SOS** tt f£t£t€. /f^f iU /Jyvflr^w t" ■ SSfw*^ 1 * SERMONS AND LETTERS. ■• r d^Q L £>, <$. SERMONS AND L.ETTEUS 01 THE LATE Rev. ALEX. PRINGLE, D.D. WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, BY HIS SURVIVING COLLEAGUE, The Rev. DAVID YOUNG, D D. PERTH: J. DEWAR; C. G. SIDEY; D. WOOD. EDINBURGH— M. PATERSON. GLASGOW— D. ROBERTSON. NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE— W. PRINGLE. MDCCCXL PERTH j-PRINTED BY WILLIAM BELFORD- CONTENTS Page. Memoir, 1 SERMONS. I. — "Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God and said, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant de- part in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." — Luke ii. 28, 29, 30, 5 1 II.—. Simeon's Prayer, with Christ in his Arms — "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, ac- cording to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation," CO III — Simeon's Prayer for Death — "Lettest thou thy ser- vant depart," . . 73 IV. — The kind of Death for which Simeon prayed — " Let thy servant depart in peace," . . . .82 LETTERS. To the Author's Brother, Mr. W— P— , . . .105 To the same, 109 VI CONTENT* Paf To the Author's Brother, Mr W— ?— , . . Ill To the same, . .113 To the same, 115 To the same, 117 To the same, 119 To the same, 123 To the same, 125 To the same, 12G To the same, 121) To the same, ........ 131 To the same, 132 To the same, 134 To the same, 13G To the same, 138 To the same, 140 To the Author's Brother, Mr. T— P— , . 143 To the Author's Nephew, the Rev. J— P— , . . .144 To the same, .... .... 14G To the same, 1 49 To the same, .151 To the same, 152 To the same, 154 To the same, 155 To the same, 158 To the same, 160 To the same, . . . 162 To the Rev. Dr. F— r of P— y, . . . . .164 To Mrs. J — n, Edinburgh, 165 To Mr. J— , Edinburgh, 168 To the same, 170 To the same, 171 CONTENTS. vn Tape. Mr ,1— , Edinburgh J 7^ To the same, ........ 174 To the same, . .175 To the same, 177 To the same, 178 To the Kcv. It— F— , C— d 181 To the same, 182 To Mrs. G— B— of D— , 184 To Mr. W— B— of G— , 180 To the liev. Mr. J— n of M— n, 188 To the same, 190 To the same, . . . . . . . .191 To the same, 192 To the same, 194 To Grandchildren at M — n, 195 To the same, 197 To the same, 199 To Mr. A— r J— n, 201 To the same, .... .... 203 To the same, 204 To the same, 207 To Mr. and Mrs. W — m J — n, Jamaica, . . . 209 To Mr. J— J— , M— , 211 To Mrs. M— of G— , 214 To the same, . . . . . . . . 21(> To Mr. Thomas Pringle, London, 218 To the same, . . 221 To Mrs. Thomas Pringle, London, 223 To Friends in Business, 225 To a Young Friend, . . 227 To the same, ........ 230 VIII I ONTENTS. To Mrs. L — of F — , .... To the same, To the same, To the same, . . . • To the Rev. R— C— of D— , To the Rev. J— H— of A — , To a Friend, ....•• To the same, To the Author's Nephew, Mr. R— T— , . To Mrs. M— , To a Cousin in the south of Scotland, To the same, To the same, . . • To the same, To the same, To the same, To the same, To the same, ..... Ta fi c . 231 233 . 235 236 . 238 240 . 242 245 . 247 249 . 251 253 . 255 257 . 259 200 . 2G2 203 MEMOIR. The Rev. Alexander Pringle, D.D. was born in June, 1752. His ancestors were Border farmers, who, for several generations back, seem to have been men of much respectability and private worth. His father, William Pringle of Blaiklaw, in Roxburghshire, was a true specimen of the Scottish farmer of the olden times, whose servants were, to a great extent, incorporated with his family, and were so treated as to feel that the austerity of the master was, to a great extent, sunk in the kindliness of the father and the friend. The father of this reputable man, whose name was also William, held the farm of Yair by a feudal tenure, from his near kinsman, the Laird of Whitbank. Of his family no de- tailed account can be here given ; but his son of Blaiklaw had seven sons and one daughter, most of whom lived to a great age, and the only survivor of whom is Adam Pringle, Esq. late Lord Provost of Perth. Alexander, the subject of this Memoir, was the third son of the family, and is said to have been a high-spirited, manly boy, not easily turned from his purpose, and giving promise, even in childhood, of those qualities by which his manhood was characterized. Being the inmate of a pious family, he was early initiated into the exercise B 2 MEMOIR. of prayer, and it would seem that, when very young, he had contracted a love to this exercise. When he was about eight years of age, a pious female servant of his father, who probably watched over the morals of the children, and was, in her place, the guide of their piety, told him one day that she thought he should be- come a minister, assigning as her reason, that he re- mained longer at his prayers than did the other boys. He hinted, that his father might be averse to the ex- pense of making him a minister ; to which she replied, " Then I must speak to him about it." It is every way likely that she did speak, and that what she said, aided by her prayers to the Father of all, had not a little influence in opening to her young favourite his future course of life. This incident is but a small specimen of the simple familiarity and mutual respect which bound together the master and servants at Blaiklaw, and to which, as not uncommon in the days of his youth, Dr. Pringle often referred with high satisfaction ; contrasting it with the moral degeneracy which has since come over our rural population. " My father's servants," he would often say, " were not only sober and industrious, true to their master, and guides to one another, but men of decided piety, whose meetings for prayer and conference were regularly attended, and whose godly sincerity made them a blessing to all with whom they were connected.'' This he ascribed, in no small de- gree, to the treatment servants received in their masters' houses, where they were mixed up with the religion of the family, shared freely of family comforts, were es- teemed as fellow-christians by their masters and mis- MEMOIR. ti tresses, and taught in every way to feel themselves at home. Such was the attention paid to the farm-servants of olden times ; and in general it was well repaid, in the trustiness of their characters, and the generous con- cern which they shewed for the honour and prosperity of their master's house. About the tenth year of his age, Dr. Pringle was sent to the High School at Dunse, then under the super- intendence of Mr. Cruikshanks, a man of creditable scholarship, and somewhat advanced in life. At this seminary he made respectable proficiency in studies preparatory for the University ; but it was there also, and probably about the thirteenth year of his age, that his religious impressions became fixed and decided. He used to mention the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, the fifty-third chapter, and the eighteenth verse of the first chapter of the Prophecies of Isaiah, as portions of the Word of God which then* took a deep hold of his mind. So intense, about this time, was his religious exercise, that, active as he was, it destroyed his relish for youthful recreation; and he used to remain in the school-room to meditate and pray, while his classmates were engaged in games of amusement. In his own opinion, this was the time when he was first brought to a saving reliance on the Lord Jesus Christ. " Ever after this," he used to say, " the Lord kept hold of me, amidst many sad declensions on my part." Another scene of special religious exercise, on which his memory rested with delight, occurred at Edinburgh the first year he was at College, and about the fifteenth year of his age. He had been attacked by a violent inflammation of the throat, a disease to which he conti- 4 MEMOIR. nued subject till about the meridian of life. His com- panion and bed-fellow was Mr. Colville, afterwards minister of the Secession Church in Lauder. They were in the habit of keeping family worship together ; and he often mentioned, with a glow of feeling, that one evening during his illness, as Mr. Colville was sitting by the bedside, and singing, at his request, the sixty-third Psalm, preparatory to reading and prayer, he got such a " grip" of that portion of scripture that he could never forget it. The eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans being read on the same occa- sion, the impressions he had derived from it in the school at Dunse were suddenly revived, and he was filled with inexpressible delight. It would appear that on both these occasions the exercise was soothing rather than searching, and this was much the manner of God's dealing with him through life. Indeed, it seemed suited to his cast of mind; for such was his constitu- tional temperament, that, even when his heart departed from God, it was more likely to be won back by the grace of the gospel than stormed into submission by the terrors of the law. From this time forward he looked for, and often experienced, seasons of special fellowship with God, although these were divided by intervals of comparative desolation, which cost him much sorrow and searching of heart, although they seldom shook his confidence in the God of salvation. From this period, down to the time when he was licensed to preach the gospel, little is known to us worthy of notice. After finishing his studies at the University, in which he seems to have made good pro- ficiency, he studied theology at Alloa under the Rev. MKMOIK. 5 William Moncrieff, then Professor of Divinity to the General Associate Synod, and received his license as a Preacher in the year 1776, being about 24 years of age. Thus he advanced on public service by slow and deliberate steps ; and the state of his mind, in the near view of it, is disclosed in the following extract from a letter written by him to a very dear friend, and dated June of the year aforesaid. " On Tuesday, the 4th current, I was examined by the Presbytery [with a view to receiving trial dis- courses], and was very gently dealt with. All was over in little more than half an hour. I got out for a subject [of discourse], 2 Peter, i. 4. I have my pre- parations for license nearly finished, Mr. Morison [the Presbytery Clerk] being so kind as to inform me of all the subjects, so that my trials in this respect will, I think, give me very little trouble. But when I look at what is before me, my spirits are like to sink. Still I think I am in the way of duty ; and in the strength of my Great Head I design to go forward, leaving all events to his disposal. I desire to be entirely in his hand, believing that, if he has any work for me in the service of the altar, he will give wherewith to serve him. It well becomes me to trust his word." " My desire to honour Christ in the work of the gospel is daily increasing, and I am now willing to enter on public service whenever he is pleased to call for me. If this language were spoken before the men of the world, I am sure they would call me presumptuous ; but I think I have ground for what I am saying, and can tell it without a blush to my dearest friend on earth. I would not for the world run unsent, or take b2 b MEMOIR. up the office of a preacher of the gospel without Christ's commission. O no ! may I rather be buried as deep as the centre of the earth, never more to be heard of in the land of the living." In this extract, we see a strong desire for the Christian ministry, governed by a fear of offending, which every'youth, in similar cir- cumstances, should be anxious to imitate ; for, of all the evils which befal the church, by far the most deso- lating, and, alas, it must be added, not the least com- mon, is a tendency to covet the ministry of the gospel for ease, or honour, or emolument, without caring to be actuated by the spirit which such a ministry re- quires. Soon after he began to preach, Dr. Pringle received a call from the congregation of Minihive, in Dumfries- shire; and not long after lie received another from the congregation in Perth, to which the labours of his long and useful life were subsequently devoted. It would seem that he was preaching in Perth at the time when this latter call was given to him ; and, in reference to it, he writes as follows to the friend referred to above : « Perth, 29th January, 1777. " I would, ere now, have sent my friend an account of what took place here on Thursday last, had I been at home; but on Tuesday, the week previous, I went to Methven to be out of the way, and preached last Sab- bath at Logiealmond. When Mr. Wilson [of Methven] came home from the moderation, he told us that four candidates were on the list." After detailing the state of the vote, which shows that all the members of the congregation who were present, except 23, gave their MEMOIR. 7 votes for him, while nearly Jill of the 23 afterwards subscribed his call, he thus concludes his letter : — " So, my dear friend, you see there is more work carved out for the synod. Whatever way it go, I am resolved cheerfully to abide by the synod's decision. The con- gregation is for two ministers, and I am resolved not to accept of it as a single charge ; but nothing will be done till the synod's determination is known." The synod preferred this call to that from Minihive, and, to the great joy of the congregation at Perth, he was ordained to be one of its pastors on the 14th of August, 1777. About a year thereafter, he was mar- ried to Jane, daughter of the Rev. Alexander Mon- crieff of Culfargie, minister of the Secession congrega- tion at Abernethy, in Perthshire. Mrs. Pringle was the youngest of fifteen children born to Mr. MoneriefT by a second marriage. He w r as first married to a daughter of Sir James Clark of Pennycuick, and after- wards to Jane, daughter of the Rev. Mr. Lyon, minister of the parish of Airlie. Mr. MoncriefT was one of the four brethren who were separated from the Church of Scotland in the year 1733, and founded the Secession Church, with so much honour to themselves and spi- ritual benefit to the people of Scotland. He succeeded Mr. Wilson as Professor of Divinity in the Secession Church, and was himself succeeded in that office by his own son, the Rev. William MoncriefT of Alloa, to whom reference has already been made. Dr. Pringle had two sons and four daughters. One of his sons died in infancy ; and the other, the Rev. William Pringle, is a minister of the Secession Church in the United States of America. His two oldest 8 MEMOIR. daughters and the youngest still survive ; but the third died about sixteen years ago, leaving behind her a large family. She was the wife of the Rev. John Jameson, late of Methven, who was the grandson of another of the four seceding brethren, the Rev. William Wilson of Perth. At the time of Dr. Prinale's settlement the congre- gation was very large, consisting probably of three thousand souls. The first time he dispensed the Lord's Supper, there were about three hundred young persons and others who applied for fellowship; two hundred of whom were admitted after suitable exa- mination. His labour about this time was very great, and his situation altogether not a little trying to a young man in the commencement of his ministry. Al- though he accepted of the charge on the express con- dition that it was to be collegiate, yet ten vears had nearly elapsed ere a colleague could be obtained for him. No fewer than five attempts to obtain one proved abortive. As a matter of course, there was dissatis- faction ; the people were broken into parties, and be- gan to criminate one another; it was scarcely possible that, in these circumstances, the minister should escape from blame ; he did not escape; one party or another accused him of opposing its wishes ; and he was sub- jected to years of harassing vexation, on which he never could look back without pain. After these troubles had continued for a considerable time, he began seriously to inquire what might be his share in the con- troversy which God was so obviously pleading with his people. This led him to search himself with special prayer and fasting ; and the result was, a conviction, MEMOIR. 5i wrought deep into his mind, that his estimate of the trust committed to him, in the charge of so large a congregation, had hecn hitherto very defective — that his concern for the wellbeing of souls had been neither so earnest nor so exclusive as it ought to have been — and that, however guilty others might be in causing" dissen- sions, he could neither have peace within, nor expect peace on the field of his labours, till his own sins, as thus discovered to him, were confessed and forsaken. By the blessing of God on these exercises, his heart was greatly softened, and willingly laid itself very low in devout humiliation. The fruit of them was sweet, and it was abiding. He has often remarked, with holy gratitude, and the blush of self-abasement, that about this time he began to enjoy the gracious presence of God, in his private studies and public ministrations, to an extent which was entirely new to him. This greatly encouraged his heart, and caused him to hope for a happy issue to the course of trial through which he was passing. Before being led to suspect himself, or to deal in earnest with his own heart, he seems to have thought of demitting his charge ; but afterwards he resolved to abide at his post, unless they who were over him in the Lord should, without any solicitation from him, deem it their duty to set him free. In this change of mind the hand of God was conspicuously seen ; it was the turning point of his pastoral history, and involved blessings to many who were then unborn. As his own spirit was corrected and improved by the power of divine grace, the spirits of his people were improved also; and in a short time measures were taken, if not with unanimity, at least with comparative har- 10 MEMOIR, mony, which led to the settlement of the Rev. Richard Black as his fellow-labourer in the work of the gospel, on the 3d of April, 1787. There is here a lesson to Christian ministers which they all need to study. When contentions come and evil ensues, they cannot be silent, but are bound, by their divine Master, to show the people their sin ; but neither can they speak, it maybe, without giving offence to one party, or to both ; and, when so situated, it becomes them to suspect their own hearts and govern their own spirits, to drink deep into the spirit of their Master, and to exemplify, in times of trial, that patient self-denial of which he has left them so rich an example. The collegiate connection between Dr. Pringle and Mr. Black continued, to the peace and profit of the congregation, and with a measure of mutual affection and esteem, for about thirty-three years, till at last it was dissolved by difference of view about the late happy union between the two great branches of the Secession Church. To this union Dr. Pringle, after carefully considering its terms, became a cordial friend ; for? whatever may have been his previous views, he had lived long enough to see the evils of division, as well as the very insufficient grounds on which even good men are often left to maintain it. He belonged to the committee chosen by his synod to aid in framing a basis of union ; and by his influence with brethren on both sides, by whom lie was held in much esteem, he contri- buted not a little to its consummation. Mr. Black opposed him in this, and, in common with a few others, insisted on stipulations which a great majority deemed uncalled for. When the union was formed he protested MEMOIR* ] 1 against it ; not considering his protest sufficient, he Withdrew from the fellowship of the united church, with a few of the people who adopted his views ; and his connection with his colleague and congregation was. ou the 21st of November, 1820, formally dissolved by the Preshytery. That Mr. Black, however much mis- taken, was actuated, in taking this course, by a strong sense of duty, there is no room to doubt ; the sacrifice to which he submitted shows that he was disinterested ; and justice to his memory requires us to say, that if his views were indefensible they were honestly maintained. He, also, is now gathered to his fathers, having sur- vived Dr. Pringle a little less than six months ; and it is pleasing to record, that although diversity of view, aggravated, it may be, by some infirmity of temper, did separate them in the church below, yet they still looked on each other, and loved each other, as children of the same family, and heirs of the same heavenly inheritance. During the last illness of Dr. Pringle, they met and prayed together in sweet and holy fellowship, as a foretaste, no doubt, of that higher fel- lowship where prayer is lost in praise and desire in fruition. As servants in the house of God, they were faithful, each according to his own view of what his Master required of him; and now they rest in peace, " waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of the bodv." The vacancy occasioned by Mr. Black's retirement was supplied in rather less than a year, by the call and subsequent ordination of the writer of this Memoir. In the movements which led on to this event, Dr, Pringle took a lively interest; the unanimity of the 12 MEMOIR. congregation pleased him exceedingly; and it is known that lie anticipated from the result considerable satis- faction. Between him and his second colleague a friendship was formed, which, if auspicious in its com- mencement, was deepened and confirmed by the lapse of years. Few relations of the kind were ever more agreeable ; and if, in any degree, " it was the staff of his old age," let God he magnified. This second col- legiate relation lasted for nearly eighteen years, and although, as was seemly in the circumstances, Dr. Pringle only took one of the three services each Lord's day, yet he was ever ready to extend his labours, when, by illness or otherwise, his colleague was prevented from officiating. He seemed to have a growing delight in conducting the public services of the church ; and even in accepting proffered assistance, which occasion- ally came in his way, he was more frequently actuated by respect for the fellowship of the gospel than by a desire for personal ease. Of him it may be said, with emphatic truth, not only that love to the gospel, and delight in preaching it, grew with his growth and strengthened with his strength, but that they stood out, fresh and vigorous, to the very end of his declining years. When, after the fiftieth year of his* ministry, the congregation invited him to a public entertainment, and made him a handsome present of plate, he was greatly pleased w r ith this mark of attention from a people who had shown him so much kindness; yet he disliked the public notice to which it exposed him, and felt the whole scene to be like a solemn leave-taking, little expecting that twelve years of pretty active ministration were yet MEMOIR. 13 to reserve for him. Although, during the most of these years, his bodily strength and even agility re- mained with but little abatement, yet about two years before his death the signs of decay became more and more evident. He felt a degree of fatigue after preach- ing to which he had been formerly a stranger. His memory, also, began to fail him in preaching, although rarely in prayer; and of this he now and then com- plained with a submissive sadness which was not a little affecting. The last public service he performed was on the forenoon of the first Sabbath of March, 1839. His disease had then begun to operate, but he insisted on preaching, and would not allow his colleague, who was then also slightly indisposed, to know of his illness till the Sabbath was over. After preaching, he was more than usually exhausted, looked yellow and bilious, but returned to church in the afternoon. His disease turned out to be jaundice ; but in so mild a form, that his medical friend had hopes of being able to check its progress. As he had been liable to slight bilious at- tacks, from which be often recovered with surprising rapidity, his family also indulged hope of recovery ; but it was otherwise determined — his hour was nearly come — the messenger had arrived who was to carry him away to his Father's house — and, after an illness of ten weeks, he died in the morning of Sabbath, the 12th May, 1839, in the 87th year of his age, and 62d of his ministry. These ten weeks were in fine keeping with the deep-toned godliness of Dr. Pringle's previous life, and exceedingly confirming to the Christian friends who had access to his bedside. There was scarcely a c 14 MEMOIR. cloud to darken his horizon, except on a few brief occasions, when weakness, or a slight increase of disease, partially disturbed his recollections, or inter- rupted for a little the tenor of his thoughts. Nor, on the other hand, was there anything of what might be called rapture ; the whole scene was marked by holy tranquillity arising from settled confidence in God, and sustained by constant meditation on the promises of his grace. Most impressively was it evident that the struggle with sin was well nigh over ere the struggle with death began ; his soul was ripe for glory ; and he seemed to have little else to do than to sing with the holy Psalmist, " Bless the Lord, O my soul ; and all that is within me, bless his holv name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits ; who forgiveth all thine iniquities ; who healeth all thy dis- eases ; who redeemetli thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mer- cies ; who satisfieth thy mouth with good ; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagles." There is one ex- ception to this tranquillity, which prevailed but for a little while ; and as the pain which it occasioned marks the tenderness of his conscience, it is worthy of being recorded. On being asked, one morning, how he had passed the night ? he replied, " I was a good deal dis- turbed by what I now see to have been a temptation of Satan, inducing me to magnify the usefulness of my past life, in various things connected with the public interests of religion ; but after a white the Lord let me see the snare, and these words were seasonably suggested to me, ' The God of peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly.'" MEMOIR. 15 His bodily affliction was throughout remarkably mild ; of sickness or pain he experienced but little ; and even his weakness, although towards the end it was great, was not so oppressive as in many cases it becomes. Of this he often spoke with devout thank- fulness. " The kindness of God to me," he would say, " is wonderful, in loosening the pins of this tabernacle, and taking it down so gently. It is all mercy — mercy — mercy." The Supper was dispensed in the congre- gation on the second Sabbath of April, about a month before his death ; and after loosing all hope of officiat- ing on that occasion, he seemed anxious to be able to sit down among his people, for the last time, at the Lord's table. In this also he was disappointed ; for although he had revived a little ere the day arrived, yet leaving his house, or even his room, was altogether out of the cjuestion. Still, he took a deep interest in that season of holy fellowship, inquired about the mes- sages delivered to the people, and thanked God with much emotion that the services of the sanctuary were still carried on. On Thursday, before this dispensa- tion of the Supper, a number of elders were ordained over the congregation, and in this also he felt much interested, the more so, no doubt, that, much to his gratification, Mr. John Jameson, his own grandson, was one of those set apart to office. It was in the forenoon that this service was performed ; about the time that public worship began, he fell into a kind of slumber, but after a while awoke, and asked the hour; and being lold it was about twelve o'clock, he hastily requested to be set up in bed, directed his daughter to read over to him several portions of scripture which 16 MEMOIR. relate to the office and ordination of elders, and then presented an earnest prayer for the blessing of God on the men who were that day set apart to the office. This little incident bespeaks the man ; the hand of his God had laid him low, but the spirit of the office he had so long borne was still vigorous w T ithin him ; and although he could not, as heretofore, preside among his people in scenes of solemn interest, yet neither could he refrain from taking part with them, according to the circumstances in w T hich he was placed. The assem- blies of the saints were the home of his heart, and to their God he could say, with a sincerity and pathos seldom surpassed, " Lord, I have loved the habita- tion of thy house, and the place where thine honour dwelleth." Daring his illness, many friends, and these of various denominations, but chiefly of his own session and flock, were admitted to short interviews with him, most of which will be long remembered. In these interviews, he spoke briefly but strikingly to the point. On see- ing the faces of individuals, he recollected, with unusual readiness, their personal and domestic circumstances, and shaped his address accordingly, touching freely on their besetting sins, as well as on their trials or mer- cies ; so that while some retired under the convictions -which his parting faithfulness had produced, others were confirmed in the faith, and soothed by the conso- lations of that gospel which he had so long preached to them from the pulpit, and was now preaching from the bed of death. By these efforts his remaining strength was often much exhausted ; but as he could not be easily induced to desist from them, and as it MEMOIR. 17 pained him that any should be disappointed who de- sired a parting" word from him, his medical advisers judged it best that, to a considerable extent, his wish should be gratified. Nay, the privilege of speaking for Christ, and beseeching* others to cleave to him, amidst the solemnities of his last illness, seems to have been specially desired by him. Not long before his depar- ture, he remarked to his daughter, " I have often prayed to God, in my closet, that he would enable me, on my deathbed, to speak a word in season to those who may come to visit me; and I think that, in a great measure, he has granted my request." From beginning to end of his illness, his mind was almost constantly occupied with the things of the heavenly world. This earth and its concerns, except in so far as they relate to the church, seemed to have completely sunk from his view. Whether awake or asleep, his meditations turned on "the things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God ;" and to those about him he often spoke of the happiness he experienced in having the hope of the gospel as the anchor of his soul, both sure and stedfast, entering into that within the vail. " O, sirs," he would say, " what a comfort is it, after a long journey, and sometimes a rough road, to have a home, a happy home, at night, ' an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens !' " His previous familiarity with the scriptures was of great use to him on his deathbed. Whole chap- ters of them, and even books, such as the Epistles of Peter, would pass though his mind with great dis- tinctness ; and, by something like a revival of memory, he quoted scripture more accurately than, after care- c 2 18 MEMOIR. ful preparation, he had been able to do in the pulpit during the few last years of his ministry. The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth chapers of the Epistle to the Romans, were passages in which he greatly delighted ; he called them his charter ; they had been much the food of his early piety, and they cheered and sustained him in age and in death. To a friend who, one day, asked him how he felt, he replied with great interest, " All peace ; I have just been going over my charter for an eternal world, and I find all safe in Christ Jesus." Soon after the disease commenced, he became conscious that it was the last messenger, and was so pleased to have it so, that he did not like to hear of recovery. Prayers for it he considered as scarcely becoming; and to one of his daughters, who, one morning on entering his room, said to him, M Father, you look well this morning;" he replied, " I will never look well till I get on my shining garments, which no jaundice can tarnish" The child-like simplicity with which he cleaved to the word of God, and drew his meditations directly from it, even when too weak to read it for himself, was peculiarly edifying. " Read at leisure,' 7 he would say, " and let me have time to meditate ;" and on one occasion, when the third chapter of the Epistle to the Philippians was read to him, the words, " that I may win Christ, and be found in him," so com- pletely overpowered him, that, in broken utterance, he said to the reader, " Stop, stop, and let me think !" His delight in the word of God increased very re- markably after he was confined to the chamber of affliction. M Formerly," he would say, " I was engaged in studying the scriptures for others ; but now I have MEMOIR. 10 nothing to do but feed on them for myself, and I find them unspeakably refreshing." On the afternoon of Saturday before the communion above referred to, he said, after getting some refreshment, " I'll go to sleep now ; for if the body sleeps in Jesus in the grave, it is surely better to sleep in him here, where soul and body are still united." Then his heart seeming to overflow with heavenly delight, he spoke as follows : — u Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love I O, what a blessed sickness I Come, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of separation, and these moun- tains will soon be all demolished before me. Then poor, unworthy I will be taken up, and set down be- fore the throne, one of the greatest miracles of mercy. — His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me. — O, sirs, I think this is eminently the case with me. Before I lay down here, I never got such clear views of the Lord's kindness to me, and of his providential dealings with me; and it is all from his own sweet word." Although, as already remarked, he suffered little pain, yet he had occasionally a fit of retching, which, connected with his extreme weakness, was a considerable trial to his patience. After one of these fits, he remarked, " I am sometimes like to say, How long, O Lord, wilt thou not relieve thy pri- soner ? But no : I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned against him. Although the fig-tree shall not blossom — yet will I rejoice ia the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." He was full of Christ himself, and eager that all who were dear to him might also be filled with him, 20 MEMOIR. Observing the extent to which the time of his daugh- ters and granddaughters was taken up in attending on him, and on those who called to inquire for him, he one day said to them, with much emotion, " O, it is a sad thing to go through a house like this for a whole day, bustling about your work, and speaking about common concerns, without getting any attention paid to the welfare of your immortal souls. Let the Lord be always before you. Acknowledge him in all your ways, that he may direct your steps. Pray with and for one another. Read the word of God, and medi- tate upon it." The last text from which Dr. Pringle preached was Psalm cxvi. 7, — " Return unto thy rest, O my soul ; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee." This subject, so suitable to his own case, took a deep hold of his mind ; and during the early part of his illness he expressed a desire to preach from it again, that he might warn the people of God against those things which tend to draw them away from their rest. All who knew his domestic habits are aware that lie at- tached great importance to the worship of the family, as at once a homage due to God, a testimony against domestic ungodliness, and a special means of sanctify- ing domestic providences, whether prosperous or ad- verse. This also shewed itself strong to the end. His grandson, already referred to, was in the habit of coming in to conduct the evening worship at the usual family hour. On one of these occasions he found his grandfather asleep ; and as he was now very weak, it was judged expedient not to disturb him, but to wor- ship in a separate room. This accordingly was done. MEMOIR. 21 and on discovering it lie felt hurt, and charged the family not to do so again, assuring them that the worship of God, instead of disturbing him, refreshed his spirits ; and exacting from them a promise to awake him, if at any time he should be asleep when the hour arrived. A week or two before his death, a tendency to fainting came occasionally over him. On recovering from one of these, he smilingly said to his granddaughter, Miss Jameson, who, being with him alone, was a good deal alarmed, " O, Jeanie, woman, let not your heart be troubled; the end is not just yet ; I was only sick a little." On his daughters coming in, he said to them, " O, children, I am very weak." " Yes, father," was the reply ; " but your God is very strong ; and what a mercy is it that you are so free from pain." " Aye," he rejoined, u mercy, mercy ! I have begun to sing of it here, when enter- ing on the dark valley, and it will be the burden of my song throughout eternity." About three weeks before his death, when it ap- peared to himself and to others that he could not survive for more than a day or two, he one morning expressed a wish to have every thing said or done which remained on his heart, as to this world, that when death came, he might have nothing to do but simply to meet it in the Lord. With this view he said to his daughter, " I wish you all to come around my bed this evening, that, if I am able, I may com- mit you all to the Lord, and leave you on his care." His three daughters and three grandchildren came around him accordingly, and after being set up on his bed he addressed them as follows : — 22 MEMOIR. " My dear children, for I consider you all as one family, I am about to leave you ; but the Lord will be your guide, your counsellor, and your everlasting* Fa- ther. See to it that you set him always before you ; trust him, and he will not forsake you. I have often exhorted you to pray with each ether : now you must do it. Believe me, that in going through this world, nothing strengthens the heart like prayer, and medita- tion on the word of God. Pray much in secret ; that will make other duties comparatively easy. Remem- ber to keep up the worship of God in your family morning and evening. I go away in the hope — I may say in the confirmed hope — of meeting you all in that happy world where there is no separation." Then, after committing his daughters and granddaughters to the care of Mr. John Jameson, in whose discretion and kind- ness of heart he placed great confidence, he lifted up his hands to heaven, and said with great solemnity, " I commend you all to that merciful God who has led me, and fed me all my life long in the wilderness,, and who, I trust, is about to receive me home to his eternal rest in glory." This effort had well nigh accelerated the crisis, but a little repose recruited him, and he lived on for three weeks, exemplifying the power of divine grace, and his own remarkable ripeness for heavenly glory. Not long after this, as Miss Jameson one day was standing by his bedside, feeling very sorrowful and shedding tears, he looked up and asked her why she wept ? u Oh," said she, " what is to become of us poor children when you are taken away? We never were fatherless till now." At this he felt displeased, and MEMOIR. 29 looking at her rather sharply, said, " O, Jeanie, have you do faith in the promise of God ? Can you not say, 1 when my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up'? lie who has taken your father home to he with him in glory, and who is now about to take your old grandfather, will take care of you. Put your trust in him, my dear child ; he will be better to you than ten fathers; he will keep you while in the wilderness ; he will perfect that which concerneth you ; he will be with you when you come to the Jordan of death; and he will be your portion for ever and ever." Thus did he check the excesses of sorrow, and invite to confidence in that undying Father whose grace heals the wounds inflicted by his providence, and whose love is a fountain of endless consolation to all who rely on him. The length of time that life continued, after he was reduced to great debility, was surprising to his medical friends, as well as to others. On the evening before his death, there was little more evidence of its being at hand than there had been weeks before. About mid- night, however, a change came over him, which, al- though slight at first, was so discernible as to induce his daughter in attendance to awaken the rest of the family, who in a little were all around his bed. About three o'clock in the morning he seemed to be a little relieved, and said to them, u You may all go to bed again, for there is no death in the cup to-night.'' Some left the room, but others lingered; and soon it became evident that he was sinking rapidly. A little after five o'clock in the morning his colleague came in, and on being informed of this, he said, u He is ever 24 MEMOIR. welcome." The scene was sweetly solemn, and invested with a moral grandeur which the mortal eye does not behold. Its sorrows were great, but they were illu- mined and relieved by that light which the gospel sheds on the bed of death. Children, and children's children, were weeping around, while, in the tranquillity of his sanctified spirit, the venerable object of their solicitude was welcoming death as the portal of life, and waiting till that grace which had supported him hitherto should burst into glory. After his colleague had engaged in prayer, one of his daughters whispered in his ear, " My dear father, Christ is waiting to receive you." " Yes," was his reply, " he will receive me to glory, and he will be better to you than many fathers." Although he now spoke with difficulty, yet he seemed inclined to speak on in that heavenly strain which was so natural to him, when his colleague said to him, " Doctor, you must not speak so much, you cannot stand it now." To this he replied in his usual quick way, although with slow and burdened utterance, " Well, man, speak ye, and I'll hear." This led to the repeating of some passages of scripture in which he was known to have much delight ; and at the words, " Fear not for I am with thee ; be not dismayed for I am thy God," he interposed, saying, " 1 am thy God! Man, there is a great deal there !" " Yes," it was replied, " there is more there than can be seen here, and even although you were yonder, it will be beyond your conception ; but when you arrive yonder you will see enough." With great energy he rejoined, " Aye, man, plenty, plenty ; but Til not can fathom the half of it." After this he scarcely spoke, and in a few minutes breathed MEMOIR. 2.) his last. lie hud often spoken of the morning of the Sahhiith as a desirable season for a Christian to die, and it was the season appointed for him; for his spirit left its tenement of clay just about the hour when he usually rose from bed to enter on the exercises of the Lord's day. Of the high estimation in which Dr. Pringle was held by the inhabitants of Perth, a very pleasing specimen was given on the day of his interment. Up- wards of a thousand persons, decently attired in mourn- ings, attended his funeral. Many of these, as a matter of course, were members of his bereaved congregation, or ministers of the gospel, or other friends of the family who had received invitations ; but not a few, who had received no invitation, attended of their own accord, being eager to show this mark of respect for the re- mains of the man who had so long been an ornament to their city, and in whose character the Christian mi- nister had shone forth so conspicuously. Opposite his house the crowd was great; and the instant his coffin, borne shoulder high, became visible, there was a deep silence, interrupted only by the sob of sorrow, or here and there the wail of an infant in the arms of its mo- ther. Through the whole line of procession, to the place of interment, shops were shut and business sus- pended, while the streets on either side were lined with people, whose tearful eyes and calm deportment betokened the sadness of their hearts. The city felt it had lost a friend, and so in particular did the mem- bers of his own congregation, who, when they saw borne to the house of silence the remains of their de- voted pastor, wept for themselves and for their children, D 26 MEMOIR. remembering the affectionate fidelity with which he had beseeched and warned them, and sorrowing most of all that they should see his face no more in the land of the living. On the day after his interment, being the Lord's day, his people were addressed, in the forenoon, by the Rev. John Jamieson of Scone, between whom and Dr. Pr ingle there had long existed a very intimate friendship, and a strong feeling of mutual esteem. In the afternoon they were addressed by his old friend, the Rev. Dr. Mitchell from Glasgow, and in the even- ing by his colleague. The passages of scripture on which these addresses were founded are, Gen. xlix. 33 ; Deut. xxxiv. 5 ; Acts viii. 2 : — " When Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, he gathered up Lis feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost, and was gathered unto his people." — " So Moses the ser- vant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, ac- cording to the word of the Lord." — " Devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamenta- tion over him." The interest shown by the public on the previous day was renewed on this occasion. The church, throughout the day, was crowded to excess, but particularly in the afternoon, when hundreds eager for admission had to retire disappointed ; and it is hoped the impression produced will be long remem- bered, as a call to searchings of heart, and a warning to prepare for that eventful day which is so certainly and so soon to overtake us all. In personal appearance, Dr. Pringle was peculiarly prepossessing. His stature, although not tall, was above the middle size ; his figure compact and well- MEMOIR. 27 proportioned ; and his countenance bold, open, and expressive ; while his quick and penetrating eye was a ready index to the promptitude of character. With a sound and healthy constitution, he combined great muscular power and proneness to activity, particularly in walking 1 , which, aided by his habits of early rising-, and strict regularity in eating* and drinking*, contributed not a little to preserve him from corpulency, and other unhealthy tendencies which are so apt to creep in upon the man of years. Attention to these things he re- garded as, in its place, a religious duty, the neglect of which in others was offensive to him ; and when brethren somewhat his juniors complained of their growing inability to walk, he used to say to them re- provingly, " Had you made more use of your limbs in time past, they would have served you better in time to come." Without being a stickler for matters of mere etiquette, he was remarkable for good breeding — the gentleman in deportment as well as in heart ; and although, on special occasions, his manners partook a little of that olden formality which latter usage has smoothed away, they sat well on his character, and conciliated respect as well as expressed it. As " a steward of the mysteries of God," he was well furnished for the service of his Master. To a good understanding and lively imagination, which sel- dom escaped from proper restraint, he added very re- spectable professional acquirements. His acquaintance with the Word of God, which he studied much in its original tongues, was correct and extensive ; with the details of systematic theology he was quite familiar ; and his knowledge of geography and history, common '28 MEMOIR. as well as ecclesiastical, with a considerable extent of miscellaneous reading, opened to him the fields of creation and providence, and contributed not a little to augment and diversify the treasures of his mind. These acquirements he contrived, amidst many avoca- tions, to keep fresh for use by constant study, and brought them out in his ordinary ministrations as oc- casion required. As a preacher, he enjoyed from the first, and retained till near the end, a high degree of popular acceptance. His commanding appearance and clear melodious voice gave him every external advan- tage ; while the sincerity and heart so conspicuous in his addresses had a happy effect in commending them to his hearers. There were times when he fell below himself; his memory, though retentive, was not always ready ; and this, as a matter of course, produced a hesitancy which interrupted the stream of sentiment, and marred the general effect. But when he was free from such embarrassment, as was often the case, there was a fluency and warmth and cogency in his utterance which arrested the audience, and caught them away into deep sympathy with the mind of the speaker. Although he did not hesitate to preach from little previous study when circumstances shut him up to it, yet he made conscience of rigid preparation for the pulpit, and thought it his duty to write and mandate his dis- courses even in extreme old age, when a more relaxed preparation would have been much less painful to him- self, and as much, at least, to the advantage of the people. Seldom, it is believed, did he fix on a text without seeking it from God in prayer ; and when, in connection with prayer, he found a text which opened MEMOIK. with ease and interest to his mind, lie proceeded under the pleasing anticipation that God would bless it to the souls of Iiis people. In thus judging from the State of his feelings, however, he was sometimes misled ; for when study went ill with him, he was apt to suppose that he had chosen the wrong subject or the wrong way of managing it, and thus, under an impression that God was forbidding him to proceed, he was occasionally- driven from his subject when near the hour of public service, and thrown into considerable perplexity. Good men in the ministry of the gospel have often fallen into this snare ; they have forgotten that liberty of spirir, although exceedingly desirable, is a very dubious index of duty — that the choice of a subject deliberately made in the exercise of faith and prayer, should, in ordinary eases, be followed out without regard to fitfulness of feeling — and that messages, prepared amidst much diffi- culty and many painful misgivings, are often remark- ably owned of God for the edification of his church. Although the good man of whom we speak kept strictly within the limits of his office, yet there was an edifying diversity and fulness in his ministrations. For a long time past, at least, he dealt but little in doctrinal disquisition ; but in dealing with the consciences of sinners, in pouring the consolations of the gospel into the wounded spirit, and in delineating the varieties of Christian experience, he had peculiar address ; and being observant of his own people, as well as of others to whom he occasionally ministered, he recurred to one or another of these topics as circumstances seemed to require ; so that, both at home and abroad, he was felt to speak words in season more frequently, perhaps, than most of his contemporaries. d 2 30 MEMOIR. In speaking" of Dr. Pi ingle's personal character, the first thing that strikes us is his piety. This was the leading feature of his character, the secret of his happy superiority to the casualties of this world, and the source of that holy tranquillity which marked his end. He was a godly man — a man of prayer. So much was this the case, that it seems impossible for those who knew him ever to think of him without thinking of the throne of grace. Piety, with him, as with all who possess it here below, had its seasons and its varieties, its high times and its low times ; but it was not a thing of fits and starts. No ; he was habitually devout. Confidence in God, and delight in praying to him, was deeply wrought into his nature, and gave itself out in fine accordance with the varied circum- stances in which he was placed. His piety flowed in contrition, it flowed in supplication, it flowed in heart- felt gratitude for the mercy which followed him ; it pervaded his character ; it made intercession for the whole family of man, but especially for the church, and for that portion of the church which God had been pleased to place under his pastoral care. Many a time and oft did he pray for his flock, and for his colleague in the ministry, and all the people of God on the earth, when no ear heard him but that which is uncreated, and no eye saw him but that of the omniscient God. From between six and seven o'clock in the morning, the time when he usually arose, till nine, the hour of breakfast, he was generally employed in prayer and the reading of the Scriptures, as matter *of personal exercise. Every returning first day of the week he regarded as specially a season for prayer ; and the MEMOIR. 31 easy, artless fervour with which he conducted public devotion betokened a reverend familiarity with that heavenly country whence the children of God in this world derive all their supplies. It was his prac- tice, three or four times a-year, to set apart a por- tion of time for family prayer and fasting*. On these occasions his spirit was often peculiarly soft and ten- der ; while the spiritual necessities of his family, of his congregation, of the church, and of the world at large, were all made the matter of earnest supplication. The times of dispensing the Lord's Supper were, with him, special seasons of devotional excitement, particularly when it was his turn to preside ; and in presenting the prayer which immediately precedes the distribution of the elements, his spirit was, in most cases, remarkably elevated. His people will not soon forget the earnestness, the fervour, the liberty, the solemnity, with which, on such occasions, he poured out his heart in thanksgiving for the Holy Supper, and in supplication for the blessing of its great Lord on all who were to partake of it. He had great de- light in this ordinance ; he considered it as the grand instrument of confirmation and joy to the people of God in this world ; and he found it indeed to be the " Eucharist,'' for it filled his heart with gratitude and his lips with praise. Of him it may be said, more than of most of the godly, that prayer was the guide of his footsteps, and the solace of his spirit amidst the thorny paths of life. Whatever gave him particular uneasi- ness in his own exercise, or in his family, or in his congregation, or in the church, or in the world, lie not only touched in his ordinary devotions, but usually 02 MEMOIR. made the matter of separate prayer. The apostolic injunction, "Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God," seemed written on his heart. This injunction he acted out, and he was blest in doing so. His spirit, when ruffled by irritation, was speedily tranquillized by it ; he was freed from many anxieties which the less devout have to endure ; and he was raised to a degree of heaven- liness of mind which made prayer the very element in which he delighted to move. So much was this the case, that a respectable minister of the Church of Scot- land is said to have lately remarked, " I have known many men who felt much at home in prayer ; but as for Dr. Pringle, he seems just to lift up his hands and enter heaven." He had a peculiar facility at introducing religious subjects into common conversation — not only at fune- rals, where scenes of sadness opened the way to it, but also in promiscuous parties, or when travelling, or in his incidental walks. Often did he succeed in this way in arresting the attention of the gay or the frivo- lous, and in producing a good impression, where bre- thren in the ministry, of considerable standing, could not have ventured on it. On such occasions his per- sonal worth ensured respect for him where he w r as known ; and even where he was not known, his vener- able appearance and obliging deportment were sure to repress every thing like rudeness, and often to con- ciliate esteem. A variety of incidents, illustrative of this view of his character, occurred in the course of his life ; but as many of them, although floating in MEMOIR. 33 tlio circle of his friends, are not duly authenticated, they cannot with propriety be recorded. One Sabbath morning', about twenty years ago, he had occasion to ride ont from Perth to preach in the neighbourhood. After proceeding a little way, he was overtaken by a gentleman, also on horseback, who seemed equipped for a long- journey. They soon got into conversation; and on Dr. Pringle expressing his surprise that a per- son seemingly on secular business should be travelling on the Lord's day, the gentleman replied, that he was a stranger in Perth, and, as the morning was fine, he thought it better to proceed a stage or two than to remain in the inn, especially as he happened to be travelling for the benefit of his health. The excuse was a better one than can often be furnished on such occasions ; but it led to a conversation on the sanctifi- cation of the Sabbath, which induced the gentleman to say at parting, " Sir, you have convinced me that I am wrong; and I give you my hand, that, except in cases of obvious necessity, I shall not again be found travelling on the Sabbath day." This is a mere specimen of what was very much the manner of the man. As a travelling companion he was always agreeable, and often facetious, but he rarely forgot what was due to his character as a minister of Christ, and in all circumstances stirred himself up to impress, if possible, the thoughtless or the profane. The good done by him in this incidental way it is impos- sible for us to estimate ; we must wait till the day declare it ; but his example points us to a field of use- fulness which, by many Christians and Christian minis- ters, is too much neglected, and which, if cultivated with 34 MEMOIR. wisdom and faithfulness, might yield far more fruit unto holiness than has yet been reaped from it. It will easily be inferred from what has been said, that Dr. Pringle was a man of very considerable de- cision of character. Decision was a part of his physi- cal temperament, and it was sanctified by grace into an instrument of usefulness. He might be misled in forming his purpose, but he could not be easily driven from it after it was formed. There was a holy daring about him, which, whenever he saw a thing to be right, urged him on to the doing of it without staying to count the cost ; and if the seeming excess of this power sometimes hurried him into indiscretion, there was yet an honesty about him, and a zeal for God, which half redeemed the indiscretion, or caused it speedily to be forgotten. Although decided, he was not obstinate, especially in the latter part of his life. If he had the courage to proceed when he thought he was right, he had also the courage — a much more rare and peculiar quality — to retrace his steps when he saw he was wrong. The mere pride of consistency, or the fear of censure from man, seldom led him astray ; and although, in every case of importance, he took time to reflect and to pray before he would depart from his meditated purpose, yet, when treated with that respect which was due to himself, and to the subject which oc- cupied his mind, he was remarkably open to persua- sion, and confessed his mistakes with the manly frank- ness which bespeaks the upright and the noble mind. Another peculiarity about Dr. Pringle was the very unusual extent to which he was kept free from the in- firmities of the aged. Bodily infirmity he scarcely MEMOIR. knew till very near the end of his pilgrimage; infirmity of temper, which is so apt to grow with years, seemed in his case to diminish with years ; and as to that in- firmity of understanding which creeps so surely on with the decay of those organs on which mind in flesh so much depends, his share of it was much less than usually falls to the lot of the aged — as the volume which he lately gave to the public, nearly the whole of which was planned and composed after lie had en- tered on his eighty-fourth year, very strikingly shows. But what requires to be particularly noticed here is that infirmity of character, if we may so describe it, by which the aged are so apt to drop behind their times, or to become fixtures in society ; and from this Dr. Pringle was remarkably free, although he lived in times of onward movement which distanced many of his contemporaries. It is the manner of aged Chris- tians to dislike change just because it is change, with- out caring to inquire whether it is for the better or for the worse. The very depth and sincerity of their piety is often made the occasion of increasing this dislike ; their habits of thought and practice are not only form- ed, but consecrated, as it were, by devout association ; and they are usually very averse to be disturbed by what is new. In all the evangelical churches of Bri- tain which are not fettered by human legislation, but have the liberty necessary to going on to perfection, this has been a trial to many of the aged for a consi- derable time, and particularly for the last twenty years. A spirit of inquiry has been abroad in the church as well as in civil society ; the one has, in fact, been a stimulus to the other ; and while, in many cases, the S6 MEMOIR. result has been a nearer approach to the great stand- ard of belief and practice, yet many of the aged have taken offence. They stand in doubt of their juniors ; they are alarmed at the want of reverence for ancient landmarks of human erection ; and give themselves up to lamentation over the fancied degeneracy of the times. Of this feeling Dr. Pringle partook very little. He lived in an age of progression, and he progressed along with it ; he saw that the church, in all her departments, has much to learn, and much to unlearn ; and when change was proposed, he was not alarmed, but set himself to examine it with the predetermination to adopt or reject it, according to his view of its intrin- sic merits. Nay, years, in this respect, seem to have produced upon him the very opposite of their usual effect. As they rolled on, he learned to look more freely about him, and devoutly to compare the present with the past ; and thus it was that, instead of con- tracting, they liberalized his mind, and set him freer from the influence of custom and prejudice than he had been in earlier life. Of the narrow views he had for- merly entertained, he became quite sensible, and deep- ly regretted their interference with the exercise of that charity which Christians in a state of imperfection owe to each other. From these narrow views, however, he was happily delivered, and various incidents in his later history give very pleasing proof of this. He was an old man when the union was proposed between the two great branches of the Secession Church. At first he saw considerable difficulty in the way of its being scripturally effected, and a large portion of that diffi- culty no doubt arose from the predilections of his early MEMOIR. 37 life ; but he set himself to consider the subject in the spirit of candour and prayer, and the consequence w ; that his difficulties were removed ; lie became a decided friend to the union, and rejoiced in it till the day of his death, as a special token of the divine goodne- and a happy means of strength and prosperity to an important department of the Christian church. It is likely that, at the commencement of his ministry, he was opposed to the corruptions of our state churches, rather than to the principle of a civil establishment of religion. Afterwards, however, he became more de- cided in his opposition to that principle ; the discussion of the question about the magistrate's power in religion, which agitated the Secession Church about forty years ago, carried him forward very considerably ; and when, about seven years before his death, the same question was brought into national discussion under the name of Voluntaryism in religion, as opposed to secular com- pulsion, he hailed that discussion as the harbinger of good, urged his colleague to take part in it, and avow- ed his opposition to all state churches, as unscriptural in themselves, and grievous obstructions to the pro- gress of the gospel. When he was first settled in Perth, the Lord's Sup- per was dispensed only once in the year, and as crowds of people were in the habit of attending, there was a long succession of Table services, and no fewer than eight or nine ministers usually employed, with three separate worshipping assemblies on the Sabbath, and two on the Saturday and Monday. About twenty years after his settlement, the Supper began to be dis- pensed twice a-year ; after this had continued for a E 38 MEMOIR. time, it was dispensed thrice a-year; a few years ago it was extended to four times, with a considerable abridgment of the week-day services, and such an al- teration of external arrangements as rendered the ex- ercise of communicating as nearly simultaneous as the circumstances of the congregation would admit. In all these changes Dr. Pringle entirely concurred ; nay, he was active in promoting them. He came to see that, however interesting or useful the gatherings above referred to may have been in their day, that day was gone by — that they interfered injuriously with the regular services of congregations — that the extent to which Preaching-days were carried interfered with due frequency in the administration of the Lord's Supper — and that the process of filling and emptying tables created a confusion in the house of God alto- gether out of keeping with the solemnity of the ser- vice which was going on. It were wrong to suppose that he had no difficulty in adopting these alterations ; he had, at first, great difficulty ; his attachment to the olden practice was strong ; it was strengthened by hallowed remembrances of the most pleasing and im- pressive kind; but when circumstances required him to consider the subject, he took it up on its own merits, and his past attachment gave way to his sense of pre- sent duty. In short, the liberality of his spirit, in all its bearings, grew with the growth of his general character, and re- markably increased in warmth and expansion as his end drew near. In maintaining what he believed to be the truth of God, or due to the prerogative of the Lord Jesus Christ, he was unbending, and men of dubious MEMOIR. 89 piety or purity could not easily gain his confidence ; but his heart opened to the people of God of every de- nomination; he had no difficulty in giving a good man credit for honesty, or piety, or good intention, although he differed from him ; love to Christ, and to the caus< of Christ, was ever a passport to his heart and his home ; and often did he please himself with the thought, that after all their party contendings, the true followers of Jesus Christ are much nearer to one another than they are aware of. It were superfluous to speak of his zeal for the spread of the gospel, for that is known to all who knew him. Being himself a partaker of re- deeming mercy, he was anxious that all the world should partake of it along with him ; and as he felt himself approaching the confines of eternity this anxiety gathered strength, breaking out frequently into earnest supplication, and in appeals to his people on behalf of the heathen, which they will not soon forget. To Bible and Missionary Societies, and measures for reclaiming the heathen at home, he was ever a devoted friend, keep- ing himself familiar with the history of their operations, and doing every thing in his power to promote their suc- cess. In the Foreign Missions of our own church he was profoundly interested; he regarded them as the com- mencement of an auspicious era in her history; and when they touched himself in a tender part — when the Lord called to them an excellent youth on whom he greatly doated — he made the sacrifice although it cost him a pang, and willingly bade hisgrandson* a last farewell, that he might go far hence to the Gentiles. Most ardently did he long for the conversion of the Jews, as an event The Rev. Mr. Jamieson, of Goshen, Jamaica. 40 MEMOIR. fraught with unspeakable benefit to the cause of Chris* ttanity ; and not only did he study with great care, the modern history of that people, and the reports of Chris- tian efforts on their behalf, but kept himself till the last, or at least till very near it, at the head of a little private circle, which sent its annual contribution to the society for their conversion. Dr. Pringle was as remarkable for his confidence in Providence as for his reliance on the promises of grace. These two, indeed, usually go together ; and in his case their union was beautifully exemplified. The delightful truth, that " all things," in providence as well as in grace, " work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose/' had a deep hold of his mind. The consequence was, that while he was alive to adverse providences, whether national or local, public or private, and observed them very closely, he seldom, if ever, fell into despondency. No : when the storm of ad- versity beat heavily upon himself, or upon others around him — and during the years of his pilgrimage there came much evil as well as much good — his heart found rest in the God of its salvation, and sang to itself in strains of heavenly hope, as well as of holy resigna- tion, " God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble ; therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea ; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. There is a river, the streams whereof make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High.'' MEMOIR. 41 The great political movements of Britain and of Europe are a department of Providence in which he took a lively interest; not because lie cared for poli- tics as a mere matter of human speculation, but 1" cause he considered Europe, and particularly Britain, as the scene pointed out by prophecy, on which God will do great things for the establishment of civil and religious liberty ; and in this way for the advance- ment of the spiritual reign of Christ on the earth. He did not believe that piety will prosper to any extent till faith is emancipated from human authority ; nor did he expect that this emancipation can be effected till, in countries called Christian, the principles of civil liberty, and the proper sphere of civil rulers, are better understood. With him it was matter of confident belief, that political despotism, particularly in its en- croachments on religion, is the grand obstruction to those reforms in the church which are necessary to render her a nursery of piety. Thus, the zeal for civil liberty which burned in his bosom through life was kindled from the altar of his piety ; and as, to- wards the end of his life, he was actuated by a strong conviction that great changes for the good of the church are now at hand, his interest in the great ques- tions which are agitating our own country w r as sus- tained to the last. Not long before his death, and when it was supposed that he had bidden adieu to all such matters, he one day said to his colleague, " Sit down, and tell me about public events ; for since I lay here I have fallen out of the world, and do not know what the Lord is doing ;" — and after being informed about a number of things, chiefly in answer to ques- e 2 42 MEMOIR. tions put by himself, he said, referring to a change of her Majesty's Ministers which, about this time, was attempted, " Well, well, the Lord will do his own work, but he will do it in his own way/' But he delighted in contemplating the providence of God on a small as well as a large scale — in relation to individuals and families, as well as in relation to nations or the church. He considered himself and his family as pensioners on Providence ; and when diffi- culties occurred, of which he had his own share, he confidently anticipated that God would provide. It was his manner to carry all such difficulties to the throne of grace, to spread them out before Him who feeds the ravens and makes the lilies to grow ; and often had he the high satisfaction of receiving a tem- poral mercy, sweetened and enriched by the considera- tion that it was sent in answer to prayer. Many in- stances of this kind occurred in the course of his life ; but there was one which struck him very particularly. A good many years ago, a demand was made on him for a considerable sum of money, which, in point of fact, he did not owe, and the payment of which he might have easily resisted. After reflecting, however, on the circumstances of the case, he resolved to admit the demand, but was greatly perplexed by the consi- deration that he had not the means of meeting it. This led him to spread out his complaint, and to seek direction where the solace of his sorrows had so often been found ; and a short time thereafter, as he was retiring from a meeting of the Bible Society, an indi- vidual who knew nothing of the case, and from whom he had previously no expectations, put a small parcel MEMOIR. 43 into his band, saying, " There are a few notes to you; give ten of them to the society, and keep the rest for your own use." On going home and examining the parcel, he found that, after deducting the ten pounds for the Bible Society, there remained the exact sum referred to above. It was not in everv case that his difficulties were so remarkably removed ; but so sub- missive was his piety, even in cases of sore bereave- ment, that whatever pleased God, in matters connected with his lot in life, soon came to be pleasing to him ; and in this way he learnt, after the manner of the apostle of the Gentiles, in whatsoever state he was therewith to be content. It will easily be supposed that so close a student of Providence would make many references to passing events in his public ministrations : and it is well known that Dr. Pringle was not only much in the habit of this, but managed it with peculiar skill. The maxim, that Providence is the handmaid of grace, was ever present to his mind, and it was his daily aim to reduce it to practice. Sometimes he would interweave a reference to cheering or trying events with his ordinary course of instruction ; at other times he would choose a sub- ject suited to the circumstances in which he, or his people, or the general community, happened to be placed; and on these occasions he seldom failed to produce a deep impression, magnifying to his audience the goodness of God, or unfolding the vanity of earth and its attractions, and setting the importance of eternal things in a very, striking point of view. His allusions, in prayer, to passing providences were very instruc- tive ; and although they might sometimes be rather 44 ME3I0IR* minute, or now and then embrace an incident known to himself, but too recent or remote to be generally understood, yet, upon the whole, they were greatly edifying, as a development of his own devotional habits, and a specimen of that pious emotion with which the Christian should ever contemplate the ways of God upon the earth. In discharging the duties cf the pastoral office, Dr. Pringle was most exemplary. He had chosen this office in his youth; and neither the maturer judgment of his after yearsj nor the many difficulties he had to encounter, ever induced him to repent of the choice. Next to a personal interest in the gospel, his highest ambition was to proclaim it to others; and when it seemed good to the Holy Ghost to connect him with that flock of which he was so long an under-shep- herd, he was eager to promote their best interests, and studied to show himself "approved unto God, a work- man that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." " It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful ;" and at this attainment he, through grace, arrived, although not, as he often confess- ed, in all its perfection, yet to a degree highly creditable to the Christian ministry, and encouraging to those who come after him in the discharge of its arduous duties. The preaching of the gospel he ever regarded as the lead- ing part of a minister's work, and to it he gave his chief attention, making conscience, as already hinted, of pre- paring for it with great care, and taking pains to diversify his messages with doctrine, and reproof, and correction, and instruction in righteousness, as circumstances seem* ed to require. He felt that, in order to seasonable MEMOIR. 45 preaching, there must be intimate acquaintance with the people — with the state of their knowledge — with their spiritual attainments or deficiencies, their domes- tic circumstances, and the temptations to which they are exposed ; and this led him to be very assiduous in the more private duties of his office. The good old Scottish practice of diets of examina- tion, and of pastoral visitation from house to house, he kept up with great punctuality, not only in the prime of his life but even in extreme old age. It was only about a year before his death that he fell materially behind in these services, and so great was the import- ance he attached to them, that he could not be induced to give them up sooner, although both his family and many of his people entreated him to do so, as they saw he had no longer strength to sustain them. In his at- tentions to the afflicted he was also most exemplary. To the house of mourning, and the bedside of the sick or the dying, his visits w r ere ever w T elcome, and ever willingly paid to the utmost of his power. Many, who could have borne witness to him in this respect, are fallen asleep ; but not a few survive whose hearts can tell, not only of the holy fidelity with which he prob- ed the consciences of the afflicted in cases where he stood in doubt, but also of the kindliness of affection, with which, in cases where he had little doubt, he soothed the spirit of the dying Christian, sympathizing with his infirmities, correcting his mistakes, or fanning the flame of his heavenly delight. Nor did he content himself with spiritual ministrations to those whom God had touched with affliction, but gave liberally of his substance, in cases which were known to require it, or 46 MEMOIR. stirred up others to give for the supply of their tem- poral necessities. The poor he considered as commit- ted by Christ to the affectionate care of their brethren ; and so deep was his conviction that every thing exter- nal connected with the church should be provided by her own members, that, when his own hand could no longer be stretched out to give, he directed his family to see to it, that his weekly contributions for the poor and for missions, as well as for other things connected with the congregation, should be punctually continued till the end of his life. Next to the preaching of the gospel, that part of his pastoral work in which he most delighted was the reli- gious instruction of the young. At an early period of his ministry, he began to have separate classes for the young, one for males and another for females, which met every week, during the months of winter and spring. In these classes he laboured with much de- light; and, to a very gratifying extent, he reaped the fruit of his labour in the spiritual improvement of his charge — the lambs of the flock — which is ever an ob- ject of tender interest to the right-hearted minister of Christ. His winning way of addressing the young soon gained him their confidence ; and in bringing down re- ligious truth to the level of their capacity he was pe- culiarly skilful. As a matter of course they became strongly attached to him, and expressed their attach- ment in a variety of ways, alike gratifying to his feel- ings and creditable to their own. The pastoral atten- tion to the young, which, early in his ministry he thus exemplified, has now become general in the churches of Britain ; it is one of the most auspicious signs of our MEMOIR. 47 times; a change of which lie often spoke with delight, as likely to operate very powerfully on the religious improvement of the church at large. Thus did it come to pass, that with the young and with the old — with all, according to their circumstanc — he was constantly endeavouring to make full proof of his ministry ; and it pleased God to place him in cir- cumstances which tended not a little to cheer him on. His people knew his worth, and esteemed him very highly in love, for his work's sake. Whatever might be his trials with individuals — and who, in so wide a field of labour, can expect to be free from trials? — the congregation, as a body, appreciated his character, con- sulted his feelings, and showed a laudable concern for his comfort and success. Their affection for him — which was great — showed itself most when it was most needed. Repeatedly did they come forward, in the most frank and liberal manner, to supply his wants, when unforeseen occurrences had brought him into pecuniary difficulties; and even at the time when his public labours began to be diminished, they made a handsome addition to his stated income, which was con- tinued without abatement as long as he lived. Although, as a member of Church Courts, Dr. Pringle seldom entered into prolonged discussion, yet his piety and weight of character gave him great influence with his brethren. In attending meetings of Presbytery and Synod, he made conscience of punctuality ; his opinions on matters of business before them were always listen- ed to with respect ; and often did he succeed in bring- cases of very considerable difficulty to a wise and ami- cable issue. 48 MEMOIR. Such is a short account of the man who occupied so long, and so efficiently, a place among the ministers of the Secession Church. Had he no infirmities? He had, and he knew that he had ; he saw and confessed them every day. His temper was naturally quick; and his bold determined spirit, which could not easily brook resistance, occasionally got the better of him, especially in the earlier part of his life. His faults, however, which were few, and generally connected with good intentions, were lost to the eye of charity in the luxuriance of his Christian graces. And how de- lightful is it to reflect, that whatever they were they are his no more ; they dropped from his spirit when it let fall its mantle of clay ; and now he is joined to that mighty throng who stand " before the throne, and be- fore the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cry with a loud voice, saying, Salva- tion to our God that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." Although the numerous duties of his pastoral charge left Dr. Pringle little leisure for authorship, yet this medium of usefulness in the cause of his Lord was not altogether neglected by him. In the year 1781, he published a very useful little tract, entitled, " The Duty of Prayer Recommended, with some Thoughts upon Societies for Prayer and Reli- gious Conference," chiefly for the use of his own congregation, and as a means of aiding his oral in- structions on a subject which through life he had much at heart. In 1796, or about the time w r hen, in some of the British Churches, the spirit of Missions began to MEMOIR. 49 show itself in some vigour, there came from his pen a much larger production, " On Prayer for the Revi- val of Religion in all the Protestant Churchbi and for the spread of the gospel among ii ea- then Nations." While this work gives an interesting view of the state of evangelical instruction in most of the churches of Europe and America, at the time when it was written, it also exemplifies the heavenly delight with which its author hailed the beginnings of revival, and the importance which he ever attached to the prayers of the godly, as the grand means of preparing the church for her own extension and prosperity. About twenty-seven years ago he published another work much larger than either of the former, and en- titled, " A Practical View of Christ's Divine and Mediatory Character." This volume was intended as an antidote to what he considered as " new and dangerous opinions," vended about the time of its pub- lication ; and, independently of its controversial bear- ings, which produced but a local and transient excite- ment, it gives a view of the mediatory character of Christ, which is well fitted to be permanently useful. His largest and last work, however, entitled, " Scrip- tural Gleanings," a volume of between five and six hundred pages, and published only about nine months before his death, is that in which posterity is likely to feel the deepest interest. With the exception of that part of it which treats of the being and attributes of God, this work was planned and composed by him after he had entered on his eighty-fourth year, — an achievement, the literary labour of which has sel- dom been attempted at so advanced an age. On this F 50 MEMOIR. work the Christian public have already pronounced a favourable verdict. It is an epitome of the doctrines which its author preached as well as through life en- deavoured to practise ; and there is little doubt it will long be read, not only by his own people, who delight to recognize in it much of his wonted manner of ad- dress, but also by many in various communions who never listened to his living voice. It not only traverses the whole field of revealed truth, but, without the stiff- ness or formality of system, divides it into suitable compartments, and is so executed as to keep up a suc- cession of thought so rapid and sketchy, and yet so satisfactory, that while the less informed are encouraged to proceed, the man of intelligence is pleased and edified. Still there is a desire expressed by not a few, that something in shorter compass and still liker the man — some little Christian keepsake, exemplifying the blunt but holy simplicity with which, especially in latter years, the warm strains of piety flowed from his lips — might be provided for them. In compliance with this desire, the following Sermons and Letters have been put to press, not on account of their literary merit — for to this they make no pretensions — but because they call up the living man in all the ease of his heavenly habitudes, and are likely to be read by many of his friends as a softly cogent admonition to be followers of them who, through faith and patience, are inheriting the promises. SERMONS. SERMON I. Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God, and said, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, accord- ing to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. — Luke ii. 28, 29, 30. It is a fact fully attested in the history of militant saints, that although there is a substantial sameness in the leading traits of their character, yet there has, in all ages, been found a striking variety in their exercises, their experiences, their trials, their attain- ments, while in this world. Many passages of scrip- ture, I apprehend, warrant us to conclude, that when they arrive at their Father's house above, they will be able to remember and record all the way which the Lord led them in the wilderness, to prove them, and try them, and humble them, and do them good. May we not, then, hope to hear Abraham tell over both what he saw and what he felt on the mount, where he received his Isaac safe from the altar? and listen to Jacob while rehearsing the interesting particulars of the gracious interview he had with the angel at Peniel ? and when all the patriarchs, and prophets, and apostles, 52 SERMONS. and martyrs, with the whole assembly and church of the firstborn, shall, with all the confidence and liberty of saints made perfect, unbosom their inmost thoughts and recollections to one another, that all may unite in one harmonious anthem of praise and thanksgiving to God that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever ? But our text invites us to contemplate the singular attitude and exercise of a saint on earth, and to listen to the rapturous praises and fervent prayers which he sent up to God on a most singular occasion. The name of this saint was Simeon. As scripture is silent concern- ing his genealogy, it would be vain to hazard con- jecture; only, it is probable he was a person of some eminence among the few fearers of God in those times, as he was brought forward to give so clear and explicit testimony to the divine character and honour of the Redeemer when only a babe in his mother's arms, and that, too, in the presence and hearing of all the priests and people then in the temple. His character is drawn in these few emphatic lines — " He was a just man, and devout, and waited for the consolation of Israel." A remarkable circumstance is recorded concerning him, ver. 25, 26, — " The Holy Ghost was upon him, and it was revealed unto him, by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ." We are not told when Simeon got this inte- resting revelation ; but it assured him of two things — namely, that he should see the Saviour in the flesh before his death; and that this remarkable sight would belong to the concluding scene of his mortal life. Let us now contemplate the good old saint's holy rap- SERMONS. 5 Q ture when lie received the full accomplishment of the prophetic revelation formerly granted him. " lie took him (the Lord's Christ) in his arms, and blessed God, and said, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." — I shall call your attention, First, To Simeon's attitude and action, in taking up the child Jesus in his arms ; — and, Second, To his exercise: Praising God, and praying for his departure from this world. I. With reference to his attitude and action, when he first saw Mary bring her holy babe into the temple, he seems to have been suddenly moved by the Holy Ghost to know that this lovely infant was the Lord's Christ, formerly so designed in the revelation given concerning him. In an ecstacy of holy joy and delight, he quickly advanced to meet the happy mother, and gently lifted the tender babe from her bosom, and took him in his arms. There are some peculiarities in the circumstances and external conduct of Simeon, on this extraordinary oc- casion, which never did and never will again take place in the case of any other believer. But these are re- corded by the Holy Ghost, both as a testimony of the Lord's favour to this holy man, and as an instructive lesson to the followers and friends of Jesus to the end of time. They that honour God, he will honour. The obvious lessons which we may learn from this interest- ing scene are, 1. That Simeon clearly knew this child was the pro- f 2 54 SERMONS. inised Messiah, the Saviour of the church. — He no sooner saw him, than he instantly concluded that this child was the incarnate Son of God, whom all the pa- triarchs and prophets had been long expecting to see, and had not seen him. Two very important lines of Christian character here present themselves to view, common to Simeon and every believer: — First, They all obtain a saving knowledge of Christ. Simeon im- mediately knew that this child was the Saviour sent from God; — and, Secondly, He obtained this knowledge from the Holy Ghost. This is clearly hinted in ver. 27. He came by the Spirit into the temple, just when Jo- seph and Mary entered with the child. There are no doctrines more prominently brought forward in the word of God than these two, viz. that the knowledge of Christ is absolutely necessary to salvation, and that such knowledge can only come from God, by the saving illumination of the Spirit. It is this alone which dis- tinguishes true knowledge from that speculative and notional acquaintance with the doctrines of the gospel which many acquire by mere human education and study. These may illuminate the mind and store the memory, but they never shed any renovating influence on the heart. The knowledge which the Spirit of God pours into the soul is the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, as it shines in the face of Jesus. Now, each true believer is as really the subject of this internal illumination of the Spirit as was good Simeon. 2. Simeon believed in the Lord with all his heart. — He held the blessed babe in the arms of this body. This was the literal fulfilment of the promise formerly given him ; but it was only an outward sign of some- SERMON OJ thing- far more important and spiritual. While lie clasped the body of the Saviour in the arms of his flesh, his faith embraced him as his Saviour and his God, and thus led him with delight to exclaim, " I have seen thy salvation. " His eyes saw, his hands could handle, the body of his dear Lord ; but his faith realized and terminated on the person, the divine character, and work of the Saviour. In this there is an exact resemblance between Simeon's exercise and that of all saints. They see not, they handle not, the body of their Lord ; but by faith they see him in the glass of the word ; they embrace him too in the arms of their affection, saying, " My Lord, and my God! My beloved is mine, and I am his." I do not say that the faith of believers always acts with the same degree of strength and evi- dence. The mind may often be darkened with temp- tations and unbelieving perplexities, and then it stag- gers at the promise. But even then it will put forth its trembling finger to touch if it were only the hem of Christ's garment, and the compassionate Saviour will not reject this feeble effort, — Matt. ix. 20. Saving faith is always represented in scripture as that active principle in the soul by which we receive and rest on Christ alone for salvation. Hence it is figuratively set forth as coming to Christ — looking to him — leaning on him — trusting in him — eating his flesh and drinking his blood. All these varied forms of expression are intended by our Lord to simplify and explain the nature of this exercise, and bring it down to the level of the weakest capacity in the church. It consists simply in a cordial reception of Christ in his person, righteousness, grace, and fulness, as he is freely 5Q SERMONS. offered to us in the gospel, — John i. 12. " To as many as received him, to them gave he power to be- come the sons of God ; even to them that believe on his name." 3. Simeon's faith wrought by love. — The act of taking the child in his arms strongly expresses the ardour of his love to Christ. We naturally attach the idea of strong affection to the action of the mother, when she presses the babe to her bosom. So was it now with this good man. His love to Christ ran out in such a strong current, that he took the Saviour in his arms and pressed him to his bosom. The Lord himself explains the woman's caresses, who washed his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hairs of her head, as a strong expression of her ardent love to his person, — Luke vii. 38. He also showed his pecu- liar love to John at the passover supper, by admitting him to lean on his bosom. It is so also with the grace of faith, when it acts with liveliness and vigour. It always terminates on Christ Jesus in the word, and em- braces him with strong spiritualized affections. Hence says the spouse, " I found him whom my soul loveth : I held him, and would not let him go." When Jacob found him at Peniel, he refused to let him go until he obtained the blessing. Faith is said to work by love, first toward Christ Jesus, as immediately presented in the gospel, and then, through him, it ascends to God himself as its ultimate object. " By him," says the apostle, " we believe in God, that raised him up from the dead, and gave him glory; that your faith and hope might be in God." 4. Simeon made a noble confession of his faith in SERMONS. 57 Christ. — Tlie murderous intention of Herod against the Saviour was not yet known in Jerusalem. But it must have been generally known that the priests and rulers, and Rabbis of the Jews, were all expecting- a temporal Messiah to appear in great external pomp and power, to set up a worldly kingdom, and free that nation from the Roman yoke. It was, therefore, a very bold and noble act of Simeon's faith, to stand forward in the midst of these proud and haughty rulers and priests, with the infant Saviour in his arms, and proclaim him the true Messiah who had, only six weeks before, been born in a stable at Bethlehem, and laid in a manger. But true and strong faith can leap over all mountains of difficulties, and beat them small as the dust. When we believe with the heart unto righteous- ness, we can then with the mouth make confession unto salvation, in the face of all enemies and dangers. The blind man, whose eyes the Lord had opened, was uot afraid to go to the bar of the Jewish council, and plead the cause of the Saviour in the face of his bitter foes, — John ix. It was a sign that the faith of Joseph and of Nicodemus was very weak when they dared not con- fess their Lord in the Jewish council. But at last their faith triumphed over their fears, when they boldly stepped forward and put honour on the very corpse of their dear Lord at his burial. 5. Simeon's heart was filled with joy on this occa- sion. — While he held the blessed babe in his arms, his soul was filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory : " He took him up in his arms, and blessed God*' The word signifies both to bless and give thanks. His soul was wrapt up in an ecstacy of holy wonder at this as- OS SERMONS. tonishing manifestation of the love of God, in sending his own beloved Son into onr guilty world, in human nature, to finish the redemption of sinners ; and he was amazed, also, at the goodness and condescension of God, in honouring him to see this great sight, and to give an open testimony to the honour of the Redeemer ere he should close his eyes in death. He was thus filled with all joy and peace in believing, and vented the joy of his heart in a song of praise and thanksgiv- ing. It is so also with the believer when he obtains a spiritual view of the King in his beauty : u Though we see him not with the mortal eye, yet believing we rejoice, w r ith joy unspeakable and full of glory. — We joy in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement/' Let me now ask you, Christian reader, Have you got a hold of the Saviour by faith? This is an inquiry of the last importance to your present comfort and your eternal felicity. Thousands in Judea heard of him ; multitudes, in all the cities and villages of that land, both saw him and heard him proclaim the mes- sage of mercy; — nay, some were the subjects of his miraculous cures, who did not believe on him. He once cured ten lepers, and only one of them returned to give God thanks. You must not deceive yourselves, by imagining that because you have sat under a gospel dispensation all your days — have heard the gospel of salvation proclaiming, in your ears, the doctrines of eternal life — nor believe that the mere intellectual knowledge of these doctrines — you must not suppose, I say, that any or all these attainments do amount to what the scriptures denominate a reception of Christ. SERMONS. 59 Our Lord, in the parable of the man who sought the goodly pearl, says, that when he found the field where the pearl was, he sold all and bought that field, and so obtained possession of the pearl of great price. So the sinner who has got possession of Christ by faith, has been brought to give up all for his sake ; to give up not only the world and all its allurements, so far as these would rival Christ in his affections, but he must also put down and cast off every passion and principle of corruption in bis soul, which would oppose the reign of grace in his heart and life. His language must be, " Yea doubtless I count all things but loss, for the ex- cellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord ; and do count them but dung that I may win Christ, and be found in him." Have you, then, been brought to make this choice for eternity ? • "Why, then, you have got a saving discovery of the suitableness and ex- cellency of Christ as a Saviour — you have actively accepted of him as your own Saviour, according to the free offer made of him in the gospel — you have done this under the powerful influence of the Holy Spirit, who can only persuade and enable the sinner to believe — and then you will not be ashamed to confess your love to Christ before an evil and gainsaying world. 60 SERMONS. SERMON II. simeon's prayer, with christ ix his arms. ' l Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Every thing which we see and hear, in this remark- able passage, is altogether singular and extremely in- teresting. This was the first time the Saviour of the world had appeared in his own temple. He was the great Lord of that temple ; and an ancient prophecy foretold, that Messiah would fill it with his glory. Though he was carried into it only in swaddling bands, yet he was recognized and greeted by two distinguished witnesses, under an immediate impulse of the spirit of prophecy, viz. Simeon and Anna. Good Simeon was so transported with what he saw and felt, that he ardently prays for a present dismissal from this vale of tears, to his eternal home in his Father's house. It is always very interesting and in- structive to witness what passes in the deathbed- scene of a fellow-mortal — especially of a near and beloved relation — and still more if that relation be a lively saint, dying with his eyes fixed on heaven, his Saviour enfolded in the arms of his faith, and his lips filled with the high praises of his God. And such was Simeon, standing in the temple with Jesus in his arms, praising God, and praying for his dismissal from this sublunary scene. SERMONS. 61 We can easily imagine a case which has often oc- curred in common life. A child of a family has left his father's home — has traversed many foreign countries — struggled through many difficulties — weathered many storms — narrowly escaped many dangers — at last re- turns homeward, and arrives on the summit of a moun- tain, from which lie has a distant view of his father's house, where he hopes to spend the remainder of his life, in peace and comfort, in the bosom of his beloved family. The cheering prospect fills his soul with joy and rapture. Such was the transporting view which Moses got on the top of Pisgah; and such was Simeon's, now standing in the temple, when, with the Lord of the temple in his arms, he cried out, " Lord, now let- test thou thy servant depart in peace." And no won- der, when we reflect on his present high attainments. He held God incarnate in the arms of sense ; his faith clearly perceived the divine dignity of the child born and the son given. What more could he enjoy on earth ? what higher could he expect in heaven, except the more full manifestation of the same glory, and a more adequate capacity for perceiving and enjoying it in the upper world ? " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- vant depart in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." There are four ideas here expressed, which demand attention, viz. I. The denomination which Simeon gives to death — a departure. II. His prayer for death — " Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart." III. The kind of death for which he prays — " Let thy servant depart in peace." o 62 SERMONS. IV. The argument with which he urges his prayer — " For mine eyes have seen thy salvation.'* I. Let us consider the denomination which Simeon gives to death. It is a departure. At death the soul departs from the body. It is lite- rally so both with the righteous and the wicked : death is the termination of the union now subsisting between their soul and body. But the term here employed in- cludes two ideas, which are only applicable to the death of believers, namely, the liberation of a pri- soner from confinement, by the act of a righteous judge; and the departure of a ship from her moorings, when all things are prepared for the voyage. In none of these senses does any sinner die. Not the former; for God, the righteous judge, does not dismiss him from prison as a liberated captive. No : his guilty spirit is driven away in his wickedness as a condemned criminal, to be shut up for ever in the inner prison of eternal darkness. In the departure of the sinner at death, he is dragged away and delivered over to the tormentors, bound under the chain of the curse of an angry God. His dead body is left behind, and may be deposited in the grave with all the honours of a pompous funeral, yet the curse of God rests upon it, and it will be brought forth at the general resurrec- tion, reunited to its own spirit, to receive that awful sentence from the lips of the righteous Judge, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." How different is the departure of a child of God when his soul is separated from the body ! He dies SERMONS. 63 in peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. The Saviour comes and receives his departing spirit ; the Holy Ghost, who has completed his sanctification, fills his heart with the joyful anticipations of a happy immortality ; and his spirit departs in the well-grounded hope of being ever with the Lord : " They shall enter into peace : they shall rest in their body, each one walking in his uprightness/' — Psalm lvii. 2. Their body they must leave behind, and nature may shrink at the prospect of being unclothed with the outer gar- ment of flesh and blood ; but as it is the established law of their heavenly Father, they bow in submission to his good and sovereign will, consigning their dust to their Saviour's keeping, in the assurance of a happy resurrection at his second coming. I said that we may consider the term departure, in the text, as a figure borrowed from the conduct of mariners setting sail from a foreign shore. In this sense, the word departure is taken actively. All hands are busy completing the lading; while some lift the anchor, others unfurl the sails ; and when all things are ready the vessel floats away. Human life, in this world, has often been compared to a voyage at sea. The body is a frail bark launched on a sea of trouble, at our very entrance on life. We are constantly exposed to all the varieties of calm and storm — of sudden squalls and cross currents. These occurrences are the common lot of saints and sinners. But the grand difference is this, they are bound for quite opposite shores. The believer has taken out his clearance for Immanuers land; he sails by the chart of the holy word of God; the Lord himself is his pilot ; the gale which carries 64 SERMONS. him forward to the desired haven is the influence of the Spirit; and his anchor is faith in the promises of God. He may meet with some cross blasts in Providence, but his vessel cannot sink until he arrive at the shore of glory. There the body cannot as yet enter, because flesh and blood cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. It must be laid in the dust, to be dissolved and ulti- mately refined and purified, that it may be brought forth, on the morning of the resurrection, in all the beauty and glory of its resemblance to Christ's own glorious body. The prospect of this happy reunion may cheer the departing spirit of the child of God, even in the moment of his departure. But oh, how different the sinner's voyage through life! and how immensely different his departure at death ! He sets sail without needle or compass on the stormy ocean of human life. A God of grace hath pro- vided all things needful for every Christian voyager ; but the proud sinner will not stoop to take the benefit of the provisions of mercy. He will launch out in the fulness of his own sufficiency. For a season, through the patience and forbearance of God, he may float along the smooth surface of a calm and prosperous external lot — he may flatter himself that he is approaching the haven of eternal rest — but ere ever he is aware, the heavens above him begin to gather blackness, the stormy wind blows, the waves of affliction dash over his little frail bark, and it is broken to pieces on the rocky shore of eternity. He then discovers, to his utter confusion, that he had been all his life steering in a wrong direc- tion. Instead of taking the course leading to the haven of eternal rest, he had pursued the way to everlasting SKKMONS. 65 destruction; and now his wretched spirit departs into everlasting darkness, and leaves the wretched body t<> be imprisoned in the grave, to be brought forth, at the second coining of Christ, to receive, in union with its kindred spirit, the last sentence of condemnation from the lips of the great Judge of the quick and the dead : " The wicked shall be cast into hell, and all the nations that forget God. These shall go into everlasting pu- nishment; but the righteous into life eternal." At death the believer takes his departure from this present world of sin and sorrow. At our birth we are constituted members of the great family of man. This holds true of both saints and sinners. They compose a mixed society, out of which the church of God is selected, and prepared for glory. But at death the children of God are for ever separated from all sublunary con- nections, relations, and pursuits. For, 1. They depart for ever from the society of ungodly men. — The church of God, though not of the world, is yet in the world ; and not a few, even of them who are the children of this world, creep into the church under false pretexts, and greatly mar her spiritual beauty as well as disturb her peace. The great Head of the church hath ordained that the tares should grow among the wheat until the harvest. But at death the believer departs to that pure society around the throne, who have all washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Nothing which defileth, or is unclean, can enter there. Abraham, in the parable, told the rich man that a great gulph was fixed between the righteous and the wicked in the fu- o 2 66 SERMONS. tnre world ; so that there could be no intercourse kept up between them, — Luke xvi. 26-31. 2. They depart from their dearest relations on earth. — The domestic and social relations which subsist in the present life constitute a sweet bond of union, and prove a strong stimulus to these reciprocal duties and kind offices of mutual friendship which embalm human society, and give a peculiar zest to the intercourse of life. "What a miserable world would this be were all the endearing bonds of our social relations dissolved ! Were there no father nor mother, brother or sister, friend or favourite, the parts of the moral world would be thrown loose from one another, without any strong bond of attachment to love, and serve, and sympathize with any around us. But at death all these endearing rela- tions are for ever terminated. They served the pur- pose which God designed by them while the believer lived on earth. When the disembodied spirit arrives in heaven there will be no occasion for them. In that happy world there will be neither marrying nor giving in marriage, but the saints will be as the angels of God. A spiritual relation between the eternal Father and his spiritual children, between the Lamb in the midst of the throne and all the members of his mystical body, both in heaven and on earth, formed and preserved by their common interest in the Divine Spirit, and their delightful and holy fellowship with the angels of God, will consummate their everlasting felicity, and cement their hearts to God and to each other in the strongest bonds of pure and perfect love. It sometimes occasions a sore struggle, even to the dying believer, to quit his hold of those dear relatives who have entwined them- SEUMONS. 67 selves around his heart by many kind offices of tender regard. I>ut as death approaches, and the glories of the heavenly world open to his view, lie is enabled by faith to roll them all upon the Lord, and to depart, sing- ing as he goes, " Whom have I in heaven but thee ; and there is none on earth whom I desire beside thee." 3. At death they depart from all the pleasures ami pursuits of this life. — While the children of God remain on earth, they are entrusted with their Lord's talents, and get a commission to occupy them. A certain sphere of usefulness is appointed to each servant, which he ought to fill up, to his Master's honour and the good of others, and he must fill it up if he would wish to re- ceive the joyful sentence at last of " Well done, good and faithful servant.'' The people of God must mingle with others, in the common and lawful occupations of life, connected with the several stations in which they move. The conduct of the sluggard is as inconsistent with Christian character as that of a carnal worldling; the worldling makes the world his god, but the Chris- tian must subordinate the things of earth to his spiritual and eternal concerns. He may go to his farm and his merchandize on proper occasions, but he must go in the spirit of a Christian, who sets the Lord always before him ; and if he practically do so he is safe, although the last messenger may meet him in the house or in the field, and call him away at once from all these objects of pursuit. He must obey the summons, depart, and leave all his worldly schemes, to be perfected or ne- glected by others who may succeed him. Moses led the children of Israel to the plains of Moab, but there he had to leave them, deliver them over to Joshua, and go up to Nebo and die there. But, 68 SERMONS. 4. At death the believer departs from all the sorrows of life. — Who can count the long catalogue of sorrows which sin has brought upon a guilty world ? Our days are said to be few and full of trouble : the holy dis- ciples of the Redeemer have often a great share of them. 11 Many," says the Psalmist, " are the afflictions of the righteous." Christ warns all his followers to expect them : w In the world ye shall have tribulation." He makes special use of them as means, under his direc- tion, for promoting their sanctification ; but at death they are finally delivered out of them all. Death is the last enemy which shall be destroyed. They leave the cross behind them in Jordan, and get the crown of glory set upon their head, and all tears shall be wiped from their eyes. Into that happy world to which they go, neither pain, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor death, can enter; but the Lamb will feed them, and lead them to living fountains of water, and they shall sorrow no more at all. 5. The believer at death departs from all his spiritual enemies I said before, that he departs from an un- godly world, whose inhabitants often prove sore ene- mies to the people of God ; but his spiritual enemies are his most dangerous foes. He is no sooner brought into the family of God by conversion, than the devil employs every method, by stratagem and force, to draw him aside from the paths of holiness. He studies the characters of the people of God, and knows well their vulnerable points of attack — their besetting sin — their favourite lust — their constitutional sinful bias of temper. He knows well how to adapt his temptations to their natural infirmities or acquired evil habits; and thus even strong believers have been often cast down by SEUMOXS. GO him. But at death the child of God for over departs from this region of temptation, where the prince of darkness hath his seat. The body of sin and death is for ever put off; indwelling corruption is purged from the soul ; and the departing spirit appears before God completely washed, sanctified, and justified — without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. The spiritual bride of Christ enters the King's palace, all glorious within, and covered with raiment of needle-work, — Psal. xlv. 13, 14. 6. At death believers depart from the present means of grace. — The exalted Head of the church hath or- dained a system of external means of grace, admirably adapted to the state of his church on earth, for gather- ing in his chosen vessels from the world lying in wickedness, and for building them up in holiness into eternal life, — Eph. iv. 11-13. " He gave apostles, pro- phets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers, for the per- fecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ : till we all come to the unity of the faith, and to the knowledge of the Son of God, into a perfect man." These means have justly been compared to the scaffolding employed in the erection of a great building, which is taken down when the building is completed. It is completed, with regard to each believer, when he is removed from the church on earth ; he is then made perfect in holiness, and immediately passes into glory. What may be the form of administration in the upper world, we cannot say ; but the scripture clearly teaches us, that the dy- ing saint leaves behind him all the external means of grace which were so precious to him in his passage 70 SERMONS. through life. The reading* of the word of God, the preaching of the gospel, the dispensation of the Lord's Supper, secret and social prayer, are the appointed mediums through which God communicates his gracious influence to the souls of his people on earth, and by which they hold communion with their heavenly Fa- ther ; but when they go home to their Father's house, these external means are no more needed : when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part is done away. There will be no occasion for prayers, for bibles, nor for ministers of the gospel, when they shall stand in the immediate presence of the Lamb in the midst of the throne, and see him as he is. Nay, more, the very exercise of those graces, which are denominated militant, will cease in that happy world. The internal principles of faith, hope, repent- ance, patience, &c. which take the lead, and constitute the very life of the Christian's exercise in this world, will there have no object directly to call them forth to exercise. These graces essentially belong to the consti- tution of the new man in every believer, and will for ever remain in their principle in the glorified saint ; but how they can be exercised when the promises are all fulfilled, the prayers of the believers all answered, and their enemies all subdued, we cannot easily con- ceive. The apostle, indeed, represents the departed souls of believers waiting for the adoption, even the redemption of their bodies from the dust, at the second coming of Christ, — Rom. viii. 23. And the Apostle John represents the souls under the altar, who had been slain for the word of God and the testimony which they held, crying with a loud voice, saying, SERMONS. 71 " How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on tin earth, 91 — Kev r . vi. 10. But both these passages refer to events yet future with respect to the bodies of the saints and the external state of the church of Christ on earth. But, in this particular, I am contemplating the heavenly state in all its perfection, as distinguished from the present imperfect state of believers in this world ; and the apostle thus distinguishes them, " Now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then shall I know even as also I am known. Now abideth faith, hope, charity ; but the greatest of these is charity," — 1 Cor. xiii. 12, 13. 7. The believer at death departs from his body for a season. — This seems to have been immediately in Simeon's eye at this time. The death threatened, as the penalty of the Covenant of Works, included tem- poral, spiritual, and eternal death, as the punishment of sin. But the substitution of Christ in the room of sinners secured deliverance to all believers from spi- ritual and eternal death ; and a holy God was pleased to appoint that all his chosen people should pass to fu- ture glory through the dark vale of natural death, and leave their earthly tabernacle to moulder in the dust until the general resurrection. Hence said he to Adam after the fall, " Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. "' The apostle seems to have this law directly in his eye, Heb. ix. 27, " It is appointed unto men once to die ; but after this the judgment." Pie is speaking of Christ's appearing once, in the end of the world, to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself, in order to deliver his people from spiritual and eternal death ; but 72 SERMONS. as fur temporal death, he did not intend to deliver them from it, seeing God had ordained, by a law posterior to the fall, that all men, both saints and sinners, should once die, and leave their dusty part behind them in the grave until the resurrection. But what a vast differ- ence between the death of the godly and the wicked! The sinner leaves his miserable remains in the hand of divine justice, locked up in the prison of the grave, to be brought forth, at the second appearance of Christ, to receive its eternal doom, in union with its miserable soul ; while the precious dust of the believer shall be raised from the grave as a bride adorned with the lovely image of her glorious Husband, to celebrate the ever- lasting espousals in the palace of the King of Glory. The assured hope of this happy consummation may well cheer the departing spirit of the child of God when entering the dark vale of death. The righteous hath hope in his death. He sleeps in Jesus ; and his very flesh may rest in hope of a joyful resurrection. How many interesting recollections, child of God, may this subject suggest to you. You are not yet at home. You are still wandering in a waste and howling wilderness — a land of drought and the shadow of death — walking among the graves and sepulchres of the dead, and the last messenger pursuing you every mo- ment, waiting the commission to summon your soul to depart to the eternal world. Consider, then, your lat- ter end, and apply your heart to wisdom. Despatch the work of every day in the season thereof; night cometh, when no man can work. The present day, the passing hour, may be the last. Leave nothing until to-morrow which should be done to-dav, as vou know not what a SERMONS. 73 night may bring forth. Above all, be sure to have your eternal concerns settled every night, lest you should be called to depart ere the dawn of another morning. Keep your eye constantly fixed on the death and re- surrection of Jesus, as your only stay and polar star in view of passing- through the valley and shadow of death. By his death he destroyed death, and him that had the power of death, that is, the devil. He went down to the chamber of the grave, to prepare for the reception of all the members of his mystical body ; and he rose again to secure the happy resurrection of all his people in due time. Keeping this in your view by faith, you may welcome the king of terrors, and sing, " O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? For me to die is gain. I have a de- sire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." SERMON III. II. — simeon's prayer for death. " Lettest thou thy servant depart." It may here be premised, that death, abstractly viewed, cannot and ought not to be an object of prayer to any mortal. We have a natural desire, implanted in us by God himself, to seek, by all lawful means, the preservation of our natural life. Self-preser- vation has been often styled the first law of our H 74 SERMONS. nature. *VVe have this law in common with all the animal creation. Every living creature has a na- tural abhorrence of death. Nay, the voice of God, in the moral law, accords with the dictate of natural conscience in this; for his command is, " Thou shalt not kill." He hath, indeed, given man liberty to take away the life of inferior animals, as one source of food to the human race; but no man may take away the life of man, except in self-defence, or as a punishment on criminals, justly condemned for capital offences against the laws of the country. If so, then the in- quiry is, In what light should we view the exercise of Simeon, praying for his departure out of this world ? It may be remarked more generally, That death belongs properly to the broken cove- nant, and is to the wicked the execution of its dreadful penalty, consigning them over to eternal ruin. For such to wish or pray for death is to pray for the consummation of their everlasting misery. But even with respect to believers, although its qualities and consequences be entirely changed by their union to Christ, yet death in itself, even to them, is the effect of sin ; it is still their enemy, and the last enemy with which they must grapple. It hath no sting to a believer, because Christ, by his meritorious and tri- umphant death, fully satisfied the holy law, and bore the curse for them. It is clear, then, that it cannot strike any child of God as the messenger of vindictive justice. This power is taken away by the death of Christ, their surety. Yet it strikes the body of the believer dead, by bursting asunder the bond of union between soul and body; and this separation gives such SERMONS. 75 a shake to the whole person, that even the holiest be- liever recoils from it. It is the violent separation or* the two constituent parts of human nature, endeared to one another by the closest natural union and a most endeared sympathy. Death, therefore, in itself, cannot be an object of desire to a believer, and conse- quently is not to be prayed for. Nothing can be an object of desire to a rational creature except things which are viewed as intrinsically good, but death is the very opposite of good. Again, things which may be directly prayed for are all the fruits of Christ's pur- chase, and belonging to the Covenant of Grace ; but Christ came not to purchase death, but to destroy it. But does not the apostle say, that he desired to de- part, and to be with Christ? — Phil. i. 23. And again, 2 Cor. v. 2, " That in this earthly house we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven " ? He does ; but in a follow- ing verse he guards us against supposing that he had any wish to part with his earthly frame : not, says he, " that we would be unclothed ; but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed, up of life." Were it lawful to desire and pray for our death, then it also would be lawful to use means for procuring it to our- selves ; but the command of God not only prohibits murder, but requires us to use all lawful means to preserve our own life and the life of others. Is it asked, may we not pray for death, in order to be freed from great and agonizing trouble ? I reply, that the sharpest trials are the visitations of God, even to his own children. He gives these trials their commission, measures their quantity, and marks out their duration. 76 SERMONS. We may lawfully employ all proper means for alleviat- ing their pressure as natural evils, and ought to pray for God's blessing on them, and may ask also the miti- gation of their severity, provided we go to our heavenly Father's throne in a humble and submissive spirit ; but to pray for death, merely to be delivered from pain and sorrow, is the expression of a proud, peevish, fretful, and impatient spirit, indicating that we are wearied of the cross. It is constructively saying to God that he is an hard master, afflicting us more and longer than we are able to bear, and that we are wiser than God. We find God reproving Job, Jeremiah, and other saints in scripture, for this very fault. Why should a living man complain, as a man, for the punishment of his sin ? On all occasions we should adopt the language of the church — " I will bear the indignation of the Lord, be- cause I have sinned against him, until he arise and plead my cause;" or of David, "Here am I, let the Lord do what seemeth him good." These things being premised, let us now look more particularly at the exercise of good Simeon in this prayer. And, 1. He pours out this fervent prayer with heaven di- rectly in his eye, and Jesus in his arms. — None can properly form a judgment of the exercise of this good man, unless he has been brought into a situation somewhat analogous to his. But let the child of God be admitted, like the spouse, to sit down under the shadow of the apple-tree, under the banner of the love of Christ — that is, let him be admitted to intimate and sensible communion with God in Christ Jesus — and then he will feel the desires of his soul naturally soaring SERMONS. / / aloft, and earnestly longing to depart to be with Christ, which is far better. It is really impossible for a saint on earth to be admitted to intimate communion with God, and not desire immediate and perfect fellowship with him in his exercise. This was eminently Simeons happy attainment on this occasion, when he breathed out this fervent prayer ; and it will also be the ar- dent desire of each gracious soul when elevated above the enjoyments of this imperfect state. The apostle expresses himself in very similar language, 2 Cor. v. 6-8, " Therefore we are always confident, knowing that while we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord ; we are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." 2. This prayer is presented to God in very humble and submissive terms — " Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart." — He has not even a wish to move one step from the place where he stood without the Lords per- mission. Why, says he, " I am thy servant ; and while I love thy service, I feel a strong desire to be at home with thee ; but I leave the whole determi- nation of the matter with thyself. If it be thy sove- reign will that I should depart, I am willing to leave this mortal state, and go instantly home to be for ever in heaven ; but if not, thy will be done." This, Chris- tian, is the proper style in which we should address our heavenly Father, in reference to all temporal events, both comfortable and trying. We have no warrant to ask any temporal blessing in positive language, because we have no absolute promise assuring us that God will certainly bestow it upon us. We have general assur- h 2 78 SERMONS. ances that God will give what is good. We are directed to pray for daily bread ; but the quantity must be left entirely to God himself. In reference to spiritual bless- ings, however, the case is different. God has been gra- ciously pleased to give believers absolute security that all these shall be certainly conferred upon each indi- vidual believer, either in time or eternity, — Ezek. xxxvi. 37. 3. This is the prayer of a servant who supposed that his work on earth w r as done — " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart." — His words plainly indicate the state of his heart. He had, been forewarned by the Spirit that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ; and now that he had both seen and got him in his arms, he views the great design of God in lengthening out his life on earth as fully ac- complished, and so he begs to be loosed from his earthly tabernacle : " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- vant depart." As if he had said, " Now that thy word is fulfilled in me, and fulfilled to my utmost satisfaction now that I have been honoured to see and embrace the great Messiah in human nature — I ask no more ; I consider my work on earth as finished. I pray thee to loose me and let me go." We are not told whether Si- meon's request was immediately granted or not; but it is plain that his mind was much in the same state with that of the Apostle Paul when he said, " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; and henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which God will give to me, and not to me only, but to all them also who love his appearing," 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. However desirous the child of God SERMONS. 79 may be to go home to his father's house, yet, if he is in proper exercise, he would not wish to leave this world era all his work for God on earth was finished. It was this very thought which reconciled the holy mind of Paul to tarry a while in the church, at the expense of postponing his own personal enjoyment of heavenly happiness. He knew it would have been far better for himself to depart and be with Christ in heaven ; but then he saw that the infant Christian churches could not well want his presence and ministry. He was thus in a dilemma which to choose; but the Lord solved his difficulty, and showed him that he should abide yet a little season in the church, for the furtherance and joy of their faith. 4. This is the prayer of one who had got above the fear of death : " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant de- part." — He speaks to God as one standing on the brink of the grave, anxiously waiting to obtain a literal sight of the Saviour in human nature, according to the reve- lation formerly given him. He had probably been cal- culating, many a day before this, upon receiving the accomplishment of the promise, as the sign of his dis- missal from earth to heaven ; and now when the pro- mised blessing arrived, he speaks as one who had set his heart and house in order, and was ready to de- part at his Lord's call. He knew that he must meet with the king of terrors ; but, with heaven in his eye, and the Saviour in his arms, death had no terrors to him. " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart." What a vast difference between Simeon's exercise and that of Hezekiah, when the Lord sent him a message of death by the prophet Isaiah, — Isa.xxxviii. 1.: " Set 80 SERMONS. thine house in order, for thou shalt die and not live.'' The king turned his face to the wall, and prayed, and wept sore. The apostle informs us that some of the Lords people are all their lifetime under bondage through fear of death, — Heb. ii. 14, 15. But death loses all its terrors to the child of God, whose faith di- rectly terminates on the meritorious death of Christ on w Calvary — on his triumphant victory over all the powers of darkness — and on the power of his intercession in heaven. He died to deliver them from the fear of death, by depriving it of its sting ; and he lives in glory, praying that they may be all brought home to behold his glory. This subject, then, presents to our view an example of one both ready and willing to die. Let me ask, hast thou attained this happy degree of sanctification, Christian reader ? Of all the events to which mortals are ex- posed in this world, death is certainly the most inte- resting. It is the connecting link between time and eternity. It is the concluding step of our worldly pil- grimage, and lands us in eternal weal or woe. These eves, which may now survey the beauties of a sur- rounding world, will then be sealed up by the cold hand of death, to be opened no more until the sound of the last trumpet summon the dead to awake and to stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. All our other bodily members will be laid under a long em- bargo, to act no more until the dead be raised from the grave to receive their final sentence. At death we leave behind us all the former associates of our labours, our pleasures, and our sorrows — the friend of our bo- som, dear to us as our own soul. Believers must leave SERMONS. 81 behind them even those ordinances of grace which had often been as the house of God and the gate of heaven to their soul ; their pastors, who had, under God, es- poused them to Christ, and often been the instruments feeding them with knowledge and understanding ; and they must also depart for a season from those Christian companions with whom they often took sweet counsel, and went to the house of God in company. Nay, death will tear asunder the two constituent parts of our nature ; and the body, which was the dear asso- ciate of the soul in all the actions of life, shall be left behind to moulder in the grave until the second coming of the Lord. And this separation, too, must be effected with a degree of violence from which even the sancti- fied nature of a child of God shrinks. Now, if these things be so, I ask, Christian, are you making preparation for this solemn and deeply inte- resting result? The text exhibits to our view the example of one standing on the watch for the coming of the Lord, with his lamp trimmed, and his light burning, longing to depart. But observe, 1st, That he holds Jesus in his arms. Have you believed unto salvation ? Have you received the unspeakable gift of God as all your salvation and all your desire ? Are you watching and warring against corruption within and temptations from without? 2d, Simeon was pray- ing. If you be a believer you are a man of prayer. If you have received the spirit of adoption you will be taught by him to cry Abba, Father. This will be your daily exercise. You will delight in drawing near to your father's throne. 3d, This good man was look- ing out for the coming of his Lord. It is very strange 82 SERMONS. and affecting to observe how few, even of the profes- sors of religion, seem to be on the out-look for the coming of the Bridegroom. We are daily witnessing the ravages which death is making among our neigh- bours, our acquaintance, and our near relations. We are called often to accompany some of them to the brink of the grave, and see their lifeless remains de- posited in the dust ; and yet the multitude can witness this solemn scene with as much indifference apparently as if they had got an exemption from death and the grave. Now, are you, like Simeon, looking for the coming of the Lord? Are you hasting through the work of every day, as if it were the last which you had to live ? Go on then, Christian, in your work of faith and labour of love, and in due time you shall reap, if you faint not. SERMON IV. III. — THE KIND OF DEATH FOR WHICH SIMEON PRAYED. " Let thy servant depart in peace." The scriptural character of the people of God is, that they are men of peace. They live as much as possible in peace with all men; as blameless and harmless, the sons of God without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom they shine SERMONS. 83 as lights in the world. As they love the truth and the peace while they live, it is natural that they should desire to die in peace. And O, how important is it k> have the mind composed and serene when the soul is entering tiie passage to the eternal world ! It is pre- sumable that Simeon, during his life, had been a man of peace, and now he is desirous to finish his course in the enjoyment of peace. Let me then inquire into the nature of that peace which he so earnestly prays for. 1. It is to die in peace with God This is to under- stand and use the term peace in its highest and most noble sense. Sinners may possess a degree of quiet in their mind, may have much external tranquillity in their lot, and may even have no bands in their death, and yet be utter strangers to peace with God. This peace is the distinguishing privilege of the children of God. It enters the soul in regeneration, when the God of peace takes possession of the heart by the Spirit, and proclaims to the guilty conscience, " I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done." But how is it consistent with the rectoral holiness of the eternal Jehovah to grant peace to rebel sinners ? I answer, the gospel plan of reconciliation clearly settles this difficulty. It exhibits the plan of salvation as originating in the sovereign love of God, and repre- sents him as openly declaring to a guilty world, " I know the thoughts which I think toward you : thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end." But how was this great design of mercy to be accom- plished ? Here the great doctrine of mediation is brought forward. God spared not his own Son, but gave him to be the great substitute and surety of a 84 SERMONS. chosen company of human transgressors. He was ap- pointed to bear their guilt and their punishment at the hand of justice, and redeem them unto God by his blood. On this great work he came at his incarnation, finished it by his death on the cross, and the God of peace brought him again from the dead at his resur- rection, that he might preach peace to them that were afar off, and to them that were nigh. Now this short outline of God's plan of peace directs the sinner s view, first, to the sovereign love of God as the grand source of our peace, and then to the atoning blood of Christ as the meritorious cause of our peace with God ; and this in perfect harmony with the whole gospel revela- tion. Hence says the apostle, " Christ is our peace." Again, " When the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law." Again, " Justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.' , This peace is brought into the soul by union to Christ through faith, which brings us to remark, 2. That to die in peace, is to die in the possession of internal peace. — This thought is intimately connected with the doctrine of the preceding particular. When the sinner enters into a state of peace with God in justification, the peace of God enters his soul in a work of begun sanctification. " The peace of God," says the apostle, " which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." It is a sense of sin pressing the guilty conscience which fills the sinner with terror ; but the application of the blood of Christ to the soul purges the conscience SERMONS. from dead works, and the believer enters into a state of peace. Whence is it, then, may you say, that we often find some of the most eminent saints in scrip- ture complaining of the want of this internal peace? J reply, that we must distinguish between the actual possession of a privilege and the present enjoyment of it. How often do we see a person really possessing natural life, and yet wanting the present enjoyment of it. Bodily distress, mental derangement, or some un- expected disaster in his lot, may deprive him, for the present, of all his peace and quiet. It is so also in the Christian life. Sore personal affliction, a sore stroke of God upon his worldly comforts, a very small de- rangement of his mental powers, or the hiding of God's face for a season, or the assault of temptation, may so becloud the Christian's mind, darken his evidences, and perplex his spirit, as to rob him of all present peace. Such was the sore trial of Job, David, Asaph, and others. But did they lose their peace with God ? No. The Redeemer says to all his saints, " Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give unto you : not as the world giveth, do I give unto you ; let not your hearts be troubled, neither be afraid.'* We must, then, distin- guish between the Christian's possession of peace and his present enjoyment of that peace ; — the former belongs to his state as a believer, but the latter to his exercise and experience as a lively believer. " Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace ;" but if the child of God do not keep closely by wisdom's ways, or by the law of God, in the way of duty, he shall not experience internal peace. If he walk contrary to God, God will also walk contrary unto him ; yet, after all, I $6 SERMONS. he declares, " I will not take away my love from htm, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail" Thev only have great peace who keep his law; nothing shall of- fend them. But I remark, 3. That to die in peace is to die in the exercise of faith. — There is clear evidence that Simeon's faith was now predominant in his exercise. He could say to God, M I have seen thy salvation ;" and therefore he could say, u I am not afraid to meet the king of ter- rors. I desire to depart, if it please thee, O Lord, to let me go." Now, Christian, this is the only way in which any soul can comfortably meet death. It is said of the ancient patriarchs, that "these all died in faith.'' It may be affirmed of every genuine believer, that he also dies in faith ; but then there is a great difference between dying in union to Christ, with the grace of faith existing in the heart, and that grace in lively exercise. In many instances the faith of the children ■ of God may be so overpowered with bodily trouble, and the powers of the mind so paralyzed, that the dying believer is incapable of the vigorous actings of the gra- cious principles in his heart ; yet he dies in Christ, and falls asleep in Jesus. By dying in the exercise of faith I mean, the believer's meeting the last messenger under the protecting shadow of the shield of faith, or depending on the atoning blood of Christ for defence against the sting of death, and for acceptance at the bar of God. In this manner the dying saint can repose his departing spirit on the bosom of his loving Saviour, bid a cordial farewell to a surrounding world, and wel- come the joys of immortality, now opening to his view. It was thus that Stephen, and Paul, and many of the SKRMONS. 87 martyrs for religion, triumphed over the king" of ter- rors in their last moments ; and even without going to such exalted examples of triumphant faith, we may often witness the cool, steady, and established believer, meeting death in the firm confidence of faith, when his exercise does not rise to joy and triumph. He meets the last enemy, wrapt in the righteousness of Christ, and leaning on the staff of the promise, and thus he quietly reclines his head on his deathbed pillow, in the sure hope of a joyful resurrection ; he departs in peace to rest in his bed, in the firm hope that his soul will walk in uprightness among the nation of them that are saved. Mark the distinction, Christian, between a state ot peace with God, and the internal experience of peace in the soul. The former consists in the removal of all the legal grounds of quarrel which a holy God had against the sinner before conversion ; but, by his union to Christ as his justifying head, God views him as now clothed with the righteousness of the surety, and fully accepted in the beloved. God is at peace with him in Christ Jesus ; and this peace is his sure, permanent, and unchangeable privilege, because God rests in his love. But internal peace of conscience, arising from experimental assurance of our interest in the love ot God, is a fruit and consequence of faith, which often ac- companies the exercise of that grace, but is also often awanting. How often did the Saviour blame his dis- ciples for the weakness of their faith? He said to Peter, " O tbou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ?" There is a species of assurance in the very nature of faith; but it is only assurance of the truth of the 88 SERMONS. divine testimony and promise which we believe; where- as assurance concerning our interest in the good of the promise arises from the internal evidence of sense and feeling, confirmed by the testimony of a pure con- science, and accompanied with the external evidence of a holy life. It is easy to see how all this bears on the believer's peace, both in life and death. Does he walk by faith ? does he live a life of faith upon the Son of God ? Then u God will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is staid upon him ; because he trusteth in him." Troubles may arise — the waters may swell up to the brim, but they shall not overwhelm his soul. Deep may call unto deep, but if faith be in present ex- ercise, he can, like Peter, walk to Jesus on the top of the billows. When death approaches with his sum- mons, he can meet the messenger, saying, " I will not fear, though I go through the valley of the shadow of death : for thou, my God, art with me ; thy rod and staff they comfort me." He may not be filled with the raptures of sensible comfort, but his heart is staid on the Lord his God, and he can quietly breathe out his last prayer on earth in the words of the Psalmist, " Into thine hand I commit my spirit : thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth." I knew a young man, who died in his seventeenth year, who said to a friend asking him how it was with him now, when he was on the brink of the eternal world ? He immediately re- plied, " My sense is as dead as a stone ; but my faith is as firm as a rock." In this manner a believer may die not only safe, but even glorify God in his death ; — in this manner the ancient patriarchs seem to have died, — Heb. xi. 13. There is no record of SERMONS* 81) any thing remarkable said by the most eminent saints mentioned in scripture when they came to die. When the Christian has been honoured to give a living testimony to the truth of religion and the glory of God, little seems to be left for him on his deathbed but to seal his testimony with his dying breath; yet the Lord is plefised, on some occasions, to favour some individuals with remarkable enlargement and comfort on their deathbed ; sometimes, perhaps, to put honour on dying believers themselves — or for the sake of some witnessing the scene — or to leave a strong testimony against some prevailing sin — or for confirming others in the faith and profession of the gospel — or to leave some careless and loose professor without excuse — or, in fine, for reasons of his own which we cannot now un- derstand. God giveth no account to us of many of his matters ; but we may rest in this, that to die in faith is to die in peace with God ; and so an entrance shall be ministered to us into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Though to some the entrance will be more abundant and glorious than to others, yet they shall all die in faith. i2 90 SERMONS. SERMON V. IV. — THE ARGUMENTS BY WHICH SIMEON URGES HIS PETITION. " Let thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." In these words there are two arguments employed tc enforce his petition ; but as the petition is one, I shall consider the arguments in conjunction. They clearly intimate, 1. That he kept the promise of God in view while he thus prayed. — It had been revealed to him by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death until he had seen the Lord's Christ, — ver. 25, 26. On the fulfil- ment of this prediction was his death suspended ; and now that this had been accomplished, he prays for the fulfilment of the other part of the promise. He con- sidered the promise of Christ's appearing to him in the flesh as the certain prelude to his departure, and the one having taken place he felt himself warranted to pray for the other. May we not, from this, draw the general conclusion, that the word and promise of God are the only rule of acceptable prayer. He hath there told us what he will do for us, what blessings he will confer on us for Christ's sake, and what we may ask of him in prayer. If we ask what he has not promised to give, we go beyond the limits which he hath prescribed, and so cannot hope for an answer of SEltMOXS. 91 peace. Our Lord's direction is, " If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you." 2. He took God at his word. — God had told him that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ. Well, says he, " Lord, I have seen him — I am now embracing" him in mine arms : O, let me now depart in peace, according to thy word." This particularly marks the actings of Simeon's faith in his prayer. It is the prayer of faith which God will re- gard and answer. Whatsoever things ye desire, says Christ, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ve shall have them. But to believe that we shall receive them from God necessarily supposes that we have Gods word before our mind in the prayer, and that our faith is resting upon it as the ground of our confidence before him. This was Jacob's plea in supplicating God's presence and protection when he was about to meet his brother Esau and his armed followers. Jacob drew near to God in prayer, and pleaded the promise which God had given him twenty years before at Bethel : M Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good, and make thy seed as the sand of the sea," — Gen. xxxii. 12. We may repeat the word of God in prayer — we may repeat many precious promises with ease and fluency — the simple repetition of them is not praying, in God's account, unless our faiih recog- nise them as the gracious declarations of God to us in particular, and rest on the truth and faithfulness of tin great Promiser, that he will make them out to us for Christ's sake in his own time. 3. Simeon expected and waited for his death in the 92 SERMONS. way of the promise : " Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart, according to thy word." — He viewed his death as wrapped up in the bosom of the promise that he should obtain a sight of the Lord's Christ before death should be permitted to summon him to depart. Having now received the greater blessing, he humbly cries for the lesser. Death is indeed a common event to all men ; but it comes in a very different channel to saints and sinners. To the sinner it comes as the executioner of the curse of a broken law, to summon the guilty crimi- nal to the bar of the righteous Judge to answer for all his crimes. Death is therefore to him an object of terror. But to the believer it comes as a summons signed with a father's hand, calling home a beloved child. Death is, in itself, an enemy still ; but being deprived of its sting, it cannot materially injure the child of God ; nay, it is made subservient to his eternal advantage. A physician frequently mixes up rank poison with such ingredients as convert it into a powerful medicine to the diseased patient- Such is death to the child of God. Our Lord Jesus Christ having drank the bitter cup of death to the bottom, filled full with the wrath of God due to us for sin, he has destroyed death, and robbed it of its power to hurt his people. Its precursors may indeed cause great pain to the clay tabernacle. If faith be weak and hope tremulous, even the spirit of the dying saint may quail at the prospect before him ; but he shall die in safety and land in glory, singing, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? If we are Christ's, all things are ours, death as well as life. To die is gain. Nothing, not even death itself, can sermons. 9:) separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 4. This good man had got all which he wanted and wished for on earth. — " Let me now depart, O Lord, for mineeyes have seen thysalvation." As if he had said. M I have seen all that the holy patriarchs, and prophets, and saints of God, have been looking and praying for these four thousand years ; I have seen the greatest blessing ever conferred on our guilty world — the most signal display of thy glory among the children of men. What more have I now to look for or expect ? O, let me depart in peace." He had not seen the actual re- demption of the church finished on the cross ; but having seen the incarnate Saviour entering on his great work, his faith could easily conclude that the whole design of God by him would be most certainly accomplished, though he could not anticipate the manner in which the glorious achievement should be executed. He saw, with wonder and delight, the commencement of the great undertaking in the appearance of the Messiah in our nature, and could entertain no doubt as to the full execution of what remained of the glorious plan. In full reliance, therefore, on the power and faithfulness of God, he requested permission to depart to his heavenly rest : " Lord, let-test thou thy servant depart/' 5. His present view of Christ made him willing to die : " Lord, lettest thou thy servant now depart ; for I have seen thy salvation." — What would this good man have thought had he been called to depart before he had got this confirming sight of the Lord's Christ ? Must he not have departed amidst great perplexities as to his own exercise and experience, and question- 94 SERMON'S. ing the truth of God's gracious promise? But now that he had received a confirming testimony of the truths of the promise, and the veracity of the Promiser, he longs to depart to that happy world where he should eternally celebrate the loving kindness of the Lord, and his faithfulness to all generations. If we appeal to fact and observation, it will be found universally to hold true, in the experience of the saints, that the nearer they live to Christ in their daily exercise, and the clearer their views are of him when they come to die, so much the more willing are they to depart, and to be with him for ever in heaven. It is only when faith is weak, when love is cold, when hope is feeble, when their evidences for eternity are dark, and when they are too much en- grossed in the cares or pleasures of this world, that the people of God are reluctant to depart from time into eternity. Many of them may be heard saying, If we were sure of landing in heaven, and of being ever with the Lord, then we could welcome death. But, believer, why are you not sure of this ? why are you in the dark as to this great concern ? Have you not yourself to blame ? Has not God set life and immortality before you in the gospel ? are you not daily invited to believe unto salvation — to receive Christ by faith, and so walk in him — and then, by a patient continuing in welldoing, to hope for glory, honour, immortality, and eternal life? But then you must give diligence to make your calling and election sure, bv a life of faith on the Son of God, and by evidencing the genuineness of your faith in a holy and heavenly conversation. You have often heard of believers being troubled with doubts and fears as to their eternal state; but these maybe all traced up to their SERMONS. 95 own practical declining* from God and holiness. They liave great peace who love the holy law of God : no- thing shall be a stumbling-block to them. The path of the just is as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. 6. He hoped for a clearer manifestation of the glory of Christ, and the mysteries of salvation in the heavenlv world. — He said, " Lord, let thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ;" intimating that he expected to receive no clearer discovery of the mysteries of salvation in this world than he had already got. He had seen the Lord in the flesh ; but on leaving this world — on leaving behind him the Saviour's bodily presence, in order to finish the great errand on which he came — he anticipated, with joy and transport, the far more clear and full development of the wonderful plan of redemption in the heavenly world. Here we only see through a glass, darkly ; but there face to face. Many a time the saints have felt a reluctance to depart when the messenger of death put the summons into their hand. Even Moses once and again begged per- mission to go over Jordan to see the good land of promise, and that goodly mountain, and Lebanon, after God had repeatedly told him that he should not be per- mitted. Hezekiah wept sore when he received the message of death, and earnestly prayed for a respite ; but Simeon, now standing with the Saviour in his arms, longs to be gone, that he may contemplate in the light of glory the mysteries of that salvation which now be- gan to open to his mind, while he looks upon the holy child now in his arms. — This subject may teach us, 1. That nothing can fill the soul of a sinner with 96 SERMONS. spiritual joy but a saving sight of Christ, and salvation through him. We hear nothing of Simeon's former character and exercise, except that the Holy Ghost had revealed to him that he should see the Lord's Christ ere he died. He was doubtless a good man, and wait- ing for redemption in Israel ; but now that the promise is accomplished, and that he had got the infant Saviour in his arms, he is filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory. It was the most joyful day that ever Zaccheus saw in this world, when Christ called him down from the sycamore tree, went with him to his house, and said, " This day is salvation come to this house." It is said Zaccheus received him joyfully, — Luke xix. 5-9. And no wonder. The Saviour entered his house, and the joys of salvation entered his heart ; and how could he fail to be joyful ? Reader, have you got a spiritual discovery of Christ and his salvation. ? A sight of him in the flesh is not now to be expected, — the heavens must retain him until the restitution of all things, — and though this were possible, it could not, of itself, save your soul. Thou- sands saw him in the days of his ministry on earth, who died in their sin. Paul had a visible sight of Christ in his glory, on his way to Damascus ; but it only con- founded and struck him to the ground. He imputes his saving discovery of him to an internal and spiritual manifestation to his soul, which he afterwards received. Hence says he, " It pleased God, who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by his grace, to reveal his Son in me," — Gal. i. 15, 16. It is only by the internal manifestation of the spiritual glory of Christ to the heart, by the Holy Spirit, that the dar- SERMONS. 97 kened understanding of the sinner can be illuminated to see the glory of God in the face of Jesus, — 2 Cor. iv. 6. God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. Now, have you received this divine internal manifestation ? Then it follows, 2. That those who see Jesus by faith find complete salvation in him Simeon could say, "Mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Such as were in the temple could see the babe in his arms ; but Simeon saw the great mystery of redemption now brought to light in the appearing of the Saviour in our nature. He saw the Sun of Righteousness now risen with healing in his wings, and that he was come on the errand of saving a guilty world. Now, this is a discovery only got by faith. This grace sees things which are invisible to the natural man. It looks at the Saviour as embody- ing in himself all the blessings of salvation : to procure them by his meritorious death as a Priest — to reveal them by his word as a Prophet — and to apply them by his spirit to the heart as a King. Have you, Christian reader, got this saving sight of Christ ? If so, then you have seen that all the promises of God are in him yea and amen ; and that it is his special work to dis- pense all the blessings of the covenant to his chosen people. You may adopt the last words of the holy Psalmist, " He hath made to me the everlasting cove- nant ; it is all my salvation and all my desire." 3. That saving faith approaches the throne of God with humble confidence through Christ Jesus. — Good Simeon no sooner got Christ in his arms than he K 98 SBRMOKS. looked up to the throne of Jehovah, saying, " Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation/' Christ affirms, " that no man can come to the Father but by him." He hath removed all legal bars out of the way of the sinner's access to God by his great sacrifice. A new and living way is now consecrated into the holiest by the blood of Christ, and every believer may draw near with a true heart and in the full assurance of faith. You, believer, are accepted in the beloved, and you may sail him your Father and your God in Christ Jesus. You may ask what you will at his throne, provided you only ask in faith. By Christ, says the apostle, we all have access by one Spirit to the Father. O, let us daily improve this noble way of access. 4. Hence see how a child of God may die in peace and comfort : By a firm reliance on Christ, and look- ing forward to the land of promise. — In this holy attitude Simeon, with the Saviour in his arms, looks up to his heavenly Father and cries, Lord, let me now depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. As if he had said, " Thou hast sent thine only-begotten Son into the world to repair the breach which sin made between thee and guilty man — to destroy the works of the devil — and, by dying, to open a safe pas- sage home to thy eternal kingdom. Thou hast, ac- cording to thy promise, favoured me with a sight of him ; and now I long to depart in peace." When Israel passed through the Red Sea, the pillar and cloud went before them into the midst of the passage which the Lord opened for them ; but when their enemies pursued them into the passage, it is said the pillar of SERMON'S. 09 cloud and fire came and took its station between Israel and the Egyptian array ; but the dark cloudy side of the pillar was turned toward the Egyptians, while its bright side was toward Israel. So, believer, may you expect that when you pass through the dark valley of death, the Lord will enlighten your darkness, and land you safe on the shore of eternal peace and joy. We may suppose that when the people of Israel saw Jordon over- flowing all its banks, they had many anxious thoughts how they could get over to the land of promise. But when the day came that they must pass over, they had only to march forward, keeping their eye fixed on the ark stationed in the middle of the passage, and then to behold the fruitful plain on the opposite shore. And thus they all passed over dry-shod. It shall also be so with you, Christian, if you look to Jesus by faith in the hour of death, and keep your eye fixed on the heavenly inheritance reserved for you beyond the grave. This is all very well, may some one say ; but the great question is, How may I attain and maintain prepara- tion for my departure out of this world ? I reply, First, You must be at peace with God. — The gospel proclaims peace to sinners in Christ Jesus ; it proclaims peace on earth and glory in the highest. God's own proclamation from the excellent glory is, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I well pleased." He hath als<> committed the word of reconciliation to men, to pro- claim to all this important fact, " That God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not imputing unto them their trespasses." Now, the great question which each gospel hearer should consider, and seriously 100 SERMONS. consider, is, " Am I reconciled to God ?" The testi- mony of scripture is, that each descendant of fallen Adam is in a state of enmity against God, — Rom. viii. 7. Some sinners show their enmity more openly than others ; but all the unconverted are enemies in their mind against him. To such God himself declared there is no peace : " There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." Now study to have this great point ascertained, whether the peace of God as yet rules in your heart. If so, then, Secondly, You have accepted of Christ as your peace- maker. — He was sent of God to make peace by the blood of his cross ; he actually accomplished the great undertaking ; and to show that his Father was well pleased with him and his great sacrifice, he, as the God of peace, brought him again from the dead, through the blood of the everlasting covenant. Now there is no way by which a guilty creature can enter into peace with God but by union to Christ, his beloved son. " Justified by faith," says the apostle, " we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.'* He is our peace : his own declaration is, " Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give unto you." All the redeemed in heaven, and all saints on earth, have received this precious gift from Christ ; and the great God is at peace with them for Christ's sake, and says, I am pacified towards you for all that ye have done. But the question is, are you at peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ ? have you, by faith, accepted the offers of peac^ and pardon proclaimed in the gospel, and cordially said, I am the Lord's? It is here where a multitude of professors fatally mistake. The voice of the word, of SBRMOXfc 101 conscience, and of providence, proclaims the necessity 01 being at peace with God ; but many will nut take God's ippointed method of attaining it. They attempt to make peace with God in their own way, by forsaking the open practice of some favourite lusts — by profess- ing sorrow for them — by commencing external refor- mation — beginning to pray — to read the scriptures — to attend public ordinances — and thus they persuade them- selves that God is at peace with them, while sin retains its secret dominion in their hearts. But genuine peace with God commences by demolishing the strongholds of sin in the heart, casting down imaginations, and every high thing which exalteth itself against the know- ledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ, — 2 Cor. x. 4, 5. The spirit of grace brings the peace of God into the conscience, purging it from dead works, purifying it with the peace- speaking blood of Jesus, and thus shedding abroad the love of God on the heart of the redeemed. The captive sinner is thus laid low in his own sight at the foot of the cross, crying, Guilty, guilty ! God be mer- ciful to me a sinner ! I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, O my Father ; but thou hast graci- ously pardoned ! Not to me, not to me, but to thy name be all the praise ! Then, Thirdly, You must prosecute a life of practical holi- ness. — It is an established law in the house of God, that without holiness no man shall see the Lord. Eliphaz gave a sound counsel to Job, chap. xxii. 21, tl Acquaint now thyself with God, and be at peace ; and thereby good shall come into thee." As a man's spiritual peace begins at his first gracious acquaintance K 2 102 SERMONS. with God, so it can only be enjoyed in life and at death by a holy walking with God. He meeteth him that rejoiceth and worketh righteousness. God will never finally cast away those whom he hath chosen ; but if they practically depart from him they shall know, in experience, that it is an evil and bitter thing to have forsaken the Lord their God, and gone astray from the paths of peace and holiness. But blessed is the man that delights in the law of the Lord ; he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season ; his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doth shall prosper. Fourth, You must be given to prayer. — Faith is the first vital act which the renewed soul puts forth, and it first flows out at our Father's footstool. The first breathing of the restored prodigal was, " Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." God assured Ananias that Saul of Tarsus was now a new creature ; " for behold he prayeth." The last thing said concerning Simeon is, that he sent up this fervent prayer to God when standing on the brink of the grave. Prayer is one special mean of maintaining daily fellowship with God, and obtaining all those spiritual supplies which your soul absolutely needs ; nay, our Lord directs us daily to pray even for our daily bread. Every good gift, and every perfect gift, co/neth down from our Father in heaven ; and surely when the soul is about taking its departure for the eternal world, it is highly proper then to close the interesting scene by commit- ting our all for time and eternity into the hand of Him who keeps Israel. In this manner Jacob, David, SERMONS. 103 Stephen, and our blessed Lord himself, met the last messenger and triumphed over him. Poor sinner, your present condition is most lamentable ! The God of heaven has formed your body, has given you a rational and immortal soul, and has preserved you in life while thousands around you have been summoned into eternity. You live in a land where the light of the glorious gospel is shining around you, and inviting you to come to the Saviour ; but you are living with- out God, neglecting the great salvation, forgetting the great concerns of your immortal soul, and practically saying, " I shall have peace, though I walk in the ima- ginations of my own heart, adding drunkenness to thirst." But shall it be so ? No, no: God hath said and sworn that there shall be no peace to the wicked. Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go un- punished. O bethink yourself ere it be too late ; a God of mercy is yet waiting that he may be gracious unto you ; he is rich in mercy and ready to forgive. His own declaration is, " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts : and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, and he will abundantly pardon." Though your conscience tell you that you are among the chief of sinners, be not discouraged. Jesus declares that he is mighty to save — able to save to the utter- most all that come to God through him ; but you must come, and come with the finger on the sore, crying, " For thy name's sake pardon mine iniquity, for it is great !" and a God of mercy meets you saying, " Though your sins be as scarlet, I will make them as snow; though they be red like crimson, I will make them as 104 SRRMONS. wool/' When the best robe was put upon the prodigal, his kind father saw no spot on him, but set him down to feast with his family on the fatted calf. Delay not ; time is flying, and the door of mercy will soon be shut. Now is the accepted time, and now is the day^of sal- vation. " The spirit and the bride say, Come ; and whosoever will let him come, and take the water of life freelv." LETTERS. To the Author's Brother, Mr. W — P — . Perth, 1781. My Dear Wm. — I received yours some weeks ago. I acknowledge I have been too long in writing ; but if you consider how busy I am during summer, you will not be surprised at my long silence. From the 1st June to the 1st September I have so much public and congregational work upon my hand, that I have not an half-hour to myself. I hope your children are now all recovered from small-pox ; and that you have this as a new matter of song added to all former instances of the Lord's kindness to you and your family. It is a melancholy distemper, but so much the more is the Lord's goodness displayed by preserving in and de- livering from it. The harvest is now over here, and the season was very threatening at the beginning, al- though latterly it has been remarkably favourable. But neither mercies nor judgments seem to have any effect upon us. The generation are growing more and more secure and hardened, notwithstanding all the alarming providences passing over us as a nation. We had none of the insects you mention, although last year they did prodigious hurt to our corns ; but this, like many other judgments, passed over us unnoticed. 106 LETTERS. We have ground to fear that the Lord is about to make out his threatening, Isa. xxvi. 11, — " Lord when thy hand is lifted up, they will not see : but they shall see, and be ashamed ; for the fire of thine enemies shall consume them." In a former letter I attempted an answer to your first question about the little success of the gospel, notwithstanding the clear dispensation of it. Your second inquiry is more difficult, as it goes into the deeps of Christian exercise, to which, alas ! I am such a stranger. However, as it equally concerns us both to know it, I shall now send you a few thoughts upon it. You ask, How may one know whether he is growing, standing still, or backsliding, under the means of grace? As for your middle state, I apprehend there is no such thing in fact as a standing still. Per- sons must either be growing in grace or going back with a continual backsliding. Not to make progress more or less in the Christian race is to decline and go back. Your question, therefore, has but one side, viz. When may a believer be said to be growing in grace ; or, how may he know that he is so ? The following thoughts are what occur to me at present. 1. The believer is growing in grace when he is add- ing grace to grace. For proof of this you may consult 1 Pet. i. 5, 6, 7. A man, you know, is said to grow- in knowledge when he gets acquainted with new ob- jects of knowledge. When a man grows in riches, he adds pound to pound, house to house, and one estate to another : so, in grace, the believer grows, when to his faith he adds virtue, &c &c. The young child does not walk safely and erectly all at once ; but first he goes by a hold, then ventures alone for a step or LETTEK-. 107 two, until at length he acquires the art by practice. So the Christian goes from grace to grace, and the exer- 186 of one grace leads to progress in another: " Tri- bulation worketh patience," &c. &c. — Rom. v. 3, 4, 5. '2. The believer is growing in grace when new de- crees of strength are added to the same graces. Of this wc have a clear instance in Abraham's faith. At first this grace was but weak, and a fear of danger made him deny his wife in the land of the Philistines ; but when his faith grew stronger he faced every dan- ger without dismay : " He staggered not at the pro- mise through unbelief, but was strong in the faith, giving glory to God." At first, when the faith of the disciples was weak, every little trial put them all into confusion ; but after they received the Spirit they could glory in tribulation, and meet all the terrors of perse- cution and death, because their grace was strong. 3. The believer is growing in grace when he cleaves faster to Christ, and rests more and more on him. Christ is the vine, you know, and believers are the branches ; and the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine, no more can the believer except he abide in Christ. " I am the green fir tree,'' says Christ ; " from me is thy fruit found." The more we cleave to Christ in duties and ordinances, so much the more will we grow in grace. It is union to Christ that quickens grace at first, and it is communion with him that makes it to prosper. 4. A believer is growing in grace when he is fruit- ful in good works. Good works are the genuine fruits of grace ; faith without works is dead, says the apostle. You know a fruit tree cannot be thriving when it brings 108 LETTERS. forth nothing but leaves; so when the Christian abounds more in leaves than fruit, more in the profession than the power of godliness, he is in a declining state. 5. A believer is growing in grace when he brings forth fruit under trials and opposition. It would be a sign that a tree is very vigorous were it to blossom and bear fruit even in the winter season, amidst frost and snow. Such a thing is not to be expected in the natural world, but in the spiritual it is very common. In many instances, a believer's graces never grow faster than when the stormy blast of temptations and fiery trials blow in his teeth. For instance, consider the exercise of Jacob, Job, David, &c. But to these marks of growth I subjoin the follow- ing cautions : — 1. All saints grow not equally in the same graces. There is a diversity of graces among the saints, as well as of gifts. One is more remarkable for one grace, and another for another. Abraham was re- markable for faith, Moses for meekness, Job for pa- tience, Peter for zeal, John for love, &c. &c. ; although, wherever any one grace is growing, all the rest grow in a certain proportion, though some one of them may appear more than the rest. 2. A believer is often growing in grace when, to appearance, and in his own apprehension, he is declin- ing. There is not less growing in winter than in summer, although there is not the same evidence of it. The sap descends into the roots, and these cleave faster into the soil, and this is as essential to the tree's prosperity as a growth in branches and leaves. Just so with the Christian. The Lord, to correct him, may LETTERS. lOO for ■ season overcloud the sun of his comfort, trys! him with humbling and self-emptying 1 providences, and thus bring him to cleave faster to Christ, and to think more of him and less of himself. More might have been said on this interesting and nl subject; but what I have said may sagged other things in your own meditations. If we were really growing in grace, we would not be difficulted to find marks of it in ourselves. Farewell. — Ever your loving brother, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1782. My Dear W. — Your last favour came safe to hand, fraught with the very sorrowful news of our dear father's death. It struck us very much, it was so un- expected, although we foresaw it would be the issue of the distress. I believe it would occasion the same surprise to you, who were around him, as is generally the case when death comes. Had I thought his end was so near, I would have paid him a last visit, how- ever inconvenient. As the hurry of the funeral is now over, I beg you will send me a particular account of our father's exercise. Did he consider death as near ? Did he seem to have comfort, and speak freely about that solemn change? Now, my dear brother, we are left of father and mother; but we have ground to pray that the Lord would take us up, and to believe that ho will do so. He is a father to the fatherless and the orphan's stay. When we are stript of any earthly comfort, it would be well for us could we turn to God 110 LETTERS and take him as our up-making 1 portion. His name the repairer of breaches. When parents or friends die. is comfortable that we mav sin*? and say, God lives, blessed be our rock. A faith's persuasion of our inte- rest in the best friend is the best cordial under everv bereavement. This is a new and a very loud call to consider our latter end. O that we were wise, and understood this ! We have no reason to quarrel with vine providence in any case, much less in one like this, seeing we have been so highly favoured by having our parents so long. How many are left orphans from oil* mother's womb, or very soon after ! Let us be thankful, and study through grace to be followers of their good example, and to remember their godly in- structions. We must all have our share of personal and family trials ; but the Spirit saith, Blessed is the man that en- dureth temptation. The Lord's own people suffer no is by their trials ; they all yield a good crop of pre- vious fruit at the end of the day. And how could vou i I fill up our measure of the sufferings of Christ. ft behind for us to bear, without them? His own children shall not be condemned with the world, and therefore they must be chastened when others are ■ passed by. I suppose you have been engaged in sacra- mental work last Sabbath. I hope the King was at the banquet: and O, what joy does his presence diffuse among the guests ! it makes a time of feasting and gladness. We have like work in view, and crave a e in your prayers — I am ever yours, A. P. LETTERS. Ill To the Same. Perth, 1789. My Dear Brother — I would have written you sooner about my distress and recovery, only I under- stood you knew about both. I have very great reason to bless the Lord for the mildness of the visitation ; and I think he told me something about the ground of the quarrel, as well as about the removal of it. A fa- ther's rod may be sharp, but it is medicinal. To be without chastisement is no sign of sonship. I am far from saying that my exercise was as it ought to have been, or as I would have wished it; yet I think the Lord helped me to some measure of thankful submis- sion to his will, and now that he has restored me to my public work, he is bearing my charges. I'm sure he never employed any one in his vineyard more weak and unworthy; but I shall be the most ungrateful creature in the world, if I do not, with my living and dying breath, thank him, that he has been a kind and liberal Lord and Master to me. Help me to praise him for his kindness ! I hope it is going well with you in your spiritual exercise. A life of communion with Christ is a most pleasant life — it is a heaven upon earth ; but it requires much care, watchfulness, and diligence, to maintain it. Our gracious Lord is holy, and he cannot, he will not hold fellowship with his people, unless they walk in the way of holiness. The deceitful, wicked, and carnal heart is so very treacherous and cunning, that it is not an easy thing to keep it with the Lord. Even when the believer is striving with all diligence, it will turn 112 LETTERS. ;i?ide after its crooked ways ; but the watchful Christian will hold on his way, and, when his heart turns aside, will, by faith, prayer, and self-examination, endeavour to bring it back to a centering in the Lord himself. I believe the experience of all saints will attest, that no- thing will keep the child of God lively but daily com- munications of grace from above. These, my dear brother, are to be got in the way of frequent and fer- vent prayer ; the reading of the scriptures in secret, accompanied by meditation ; and a conscientious attend- ance on public ordinances. " Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh righteousness." I am sorry to learn from your last, that you are not bearing so well with the present trial the Lord sees meet to lay upon you. Sure I am, our kind Father in heaven both sees it, has sent it, and, I hope, will sanc- tify it for good to you in the end. If God appoints the bounds of our habitation, does he not work out all the necessary crosses as well as the comforts in our lot? And does he not all this in the exercise of infi- nite wisdom ? Is it like a son, a child of his family, to spurn at the cross, and endeavour to run from it? No; it is both very sinful and dangerous. If his own chil- dren attempt to flee from one trial, they may be sure a greater will soon overtake them. But to wait on the Lord in the day of trial is the short cut, both for ob- taining comfort under it, and a sanctified deliverance from it in due-time. You may say, according to this mode of reasoning, a person should use no means for removing trials when sent, but indolently wait the issue. I do not say so. A believing dependence on God is highly consistent LETTERS. 113 with the use of all lawful means for obtaining relief; nay, not to use such means is presumption, and not faith. But then we must be sure that the means we use for the removal of trials are lawful, and agreeable to God'tf word and will. I assure you the Lord is performing the thing that is appointed for you, and the trial will continue no longer than is necessary. To kiss the rod is the only safe course. Take care of consulting with flesh and blood. Remember me at the throne. — Farewell, my very dear brother ! A. P. To the Same. f Perth, 1792. My Dear Brother — I see you are still complaining of deadness, darkness, and barrenness, under the means of grace, and of the workings of a carnal corrupt heart. I am not at all surprised that you have cause of com- plaint : " What will you see in the Shulamite, but, as it were, the company of two armies." The Christian's heart is a field of battle, where grace and corruption are in constant conflict. It would be strange, indeed, if this should not cause much uneasiness, especially as grace is often foiled in the contest. It shall at last be crowned with victory, but in the present state seems often to be driven from the field. Hence the darkness and despondency of saints. When they find corruption more prevalent than grace, they are ready to east away their confidence, and say their hope is perished from the Lord. But this is as unreasonable as if an army should cast down their arms, and give up all for lost. l 2 114 LETTERS. when only a few skirmishing" parties are worsted. David spake unadvisedly when he said, " All men are liars," just because the promise was not so soon accom- plished as he expected. I know the common reply made by a doubting saint to such a doctrine as this — " I could hope for victory at last too, were I sure that I am a true believer." The answer is short : — If such a person be not a believer, how comes he to have such a daily conflict with indwelling sin ? A dead man is past feeling ; grace struggling is as really alive as grace triumphant. I never expect to meet with a believer free from complaints while in this world, and do not wish to meet with him, provided his complaints always centre in himself. Your case, I assure you, is not singular. The weak- ness of grace and the strength of corruption will be matter of complaint till we arrive at the measure of the stature of perfect men. May the Lord enable us to hold on in the conflict to the end ! Grace is sufficient. I hope by this time you have heard from your sons after landing at New York. The Lord, I hope, will prosper them. It would be a sore pull for you all to part with them. For feeling parents to part from chil- dren, probably for life, cannot fail to go very near the heart. But there are many reconciling considerations in your case ; and I think it is none of the least of them that they seem to be removed from the scene of heavy trials, fast coming on us that remain. They will not want troubles of various kinds, but I hope they will be taken care of and supported. As for us, that awful passage seems to be on the eve of accomplishment, Zeph. i. 12-13. But the Lord will take care of his LETTERS. 115 own in the worst of times. Even when he roars out of Zion, and utters his voice from Jerusalem, he will be the hope of his people, and the strength of the children of Israel. Considering- the peculiar nature of the controversy now carrying on, seriously exercised Christians will be very much helped of God if they are enabled to keep quiet, and make no sinful compliances on the one hand, nor imprudent appearances on the other. We need much grace and direction. No doubt we may expect hardships and difficulties ; but the Lord can bridle the fury of men and devils. Much of our crop this season is very light, but it far exceeds our expectation, and farther still our desert. We had the Lord's Supper dispensed here last Sabbath. The Master's presence, I hope, was experienced by not a few. He outwardly countenanced his work very much. Let us praise him. — Farewell. Ever yours, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1J98. My Dear Brother — Your favour came the other day, bringing the tidings of our friend's rapid decline. What shall we say ? It is the will of the great Sove- reign Lord. Tis a very quieting thought to the seri- ous Christian, that a hair of his head cannot fall to the ground without his Father's appointment and direc- tion. We would think that her life could be ill spared, and no doubt she will be very much missed by our brother and his young family ; but if our heavenly 116 LETTERS. Father studied our worldly convenience and inclina- tion in the management of his providence, we would never meet with any trial or disappointment at all. Blessed be his name, that he works according to the counsel of his own will, and can bring his children to acquiesce in those disposals that are most cross to their worldly interest. How often has he turned the wilderness of trial into a fruitful field ! I am anxious to know if she is re- signed to the will of the Lord ? if her exercise be in any measure lively ? and if she enjoys the consolations of Christ, and has good hope through grace? This will make the prospect of death very light and pleasant to herself, and ought to comfort us who are left be- hind. You should not fail to be as useful to her as possible, and bring eternal concerns before her as she may be able to bear it. As to your worthy old friend, he is, I hope, rich in faith and experience. To be sure, past attainments cannot be a pillow to the Christian's head on a bed of death, nor a staff to lean on in going through the valley of the shadow of death, — nothing, nothing but a present resting on Christ in the promise can be our support in life or at death. But it is plea- sant to hear an aged and experienced believer going off the stage, like old Jacob, telling all around him of the Lord's former loving kindness. O my dear W. matters are fast going to wreck in this nation, — our rulers seem to be judicially infatuated by God, — the day of the Lord's controversy with this wicked land seems to be come, — the general failure of the last year's crop, — the present scarcity and dearth, — this mad and iniquitous war, — the total stagnation of trade. LETTERS. 117 — the general bankruptcy taking' place, — the present frowning season, which threatens a famine, — with a great number of other things taking place, — are all so many previous strokes of wrath going before the more awful pleading of God's quarrel. I'm persuaded some very sharp stroke of national calamity is just at the door. The Lord only knows what it will be. Our great concern should be to hide in the munition of rocks, and study to be found in the Lord's way when he cometh out of his place to punish. We have no security against the deluge of temporal calamities ; but the ark of the covenant is prepared as a safe hid- ing place against the deluge of divine wrath. All the friends of Jesus shall be safe come what will. Luther was wont to say, in time of public danger, that the Lord would hide him either in or under heaven. When he saw danger approaching, he used to cry, Let us sing the ninety-first psalm. Our Lord is a good strong- hold in the time of trouble, and lie knoweth all them that put their trust in him. Give us all a place in your prayers. — Yours truly, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1799. My dear Brother — Yours, announcing the removal of your father-in-law, came in course. Our kind Lord has given him a passage to eternal rest, which few comparatively are favoured with. All saints die in a state of peace with God ; but many of them are chas- tened with sore pain, and often sit under a cloud. He, 118 LETTERS. on the contrary, seems to have enjoyed a calm serenity of mind, and also a great degree of external ease while the earthly tabernacle was dissolving. He was a Christian very remarkable for equanimity and com- posure, a man of very tender conscience, and one that lived near the Lord. You have much cause of thank- fulness that the Lord spared him so long as a blessing to your young family, and a very exemplary Christian to all around him. It should be our great concern to be followers of them who, through faith and patience, are now inheriting the promises. I may say an ami- able head of your family is taken away ; but our ever- lasting Father lives to be our guide and portion in life and death. As an aged instructor is, by an all-wise Providence, removed from your young family, I hope the Lord will enable you to double your diligence among them. You have much cause to be thankful for what is promising among them. May the Lord make them more and more your joy and crown of re- joicing ! You are at present, I am sorry to learn, smarting under a very sharp trial from one of your family leav- ing you, going to sea. This has a particular language — it brings a special message from God ; and I hope the Lord will tell you the meaning of the dispensation, and help you to improve it aright. Parents may learn very much of the mind of God about themselves, both in the way of correction and comfort, in the conduct of children toward them. It must be confessed that there is often a dark veil hung over divine management, which neither faith nor sense can remove while here. In such cases it becomes us to adore sovereignty, and LETTERS. 110 live on our Lord's words to Peter, " What I do thou knowett not now, but thou shalt know hereafter** 1 But in otlier cases, when word, providence, and conscience, concur in telling us that the Lord is displeased, our im- mediate duty, and comfort too, lies in turning to the hand that smiteth, and seeking the Lord. His re- proofs are great blessings to a saint. There is not a sorer judgment out of hell to a wicked man, nor under heaven to a believer, than for God to cease to be a re- prover, or to say, Let him alone. I have often found, in my own experience, that all was well externally and in the view of others ; when, alas ! a deep consumption was begun within, and the heart sadly entangled with some lust. The attentive Christian will often find this to be the case upon a careful examination, when all the outward forms of religion are kept up. I do not say this is the case with you ; I hope not. But to make a strict examination can be no loss to you, but I hope great gain. Did you ever read Owen on Indwelling Sin, and on Mortification and Temptation ? I would recommend the serious perusal of these choice pieces to you Ever yours in love, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1807. My Dear Brother — I confess you have cause to blame my long silence. I have often been favoured with tidings about your family, and I am still grieved to learn your anxiety about your son. Like them that have gone before us, you have your mixture of crosses 120 LETTERS. and comforts. When the Lord gives children, and spares them with us, we are under the strongest obli- gation to train them up for him. But yet, after all our anxious care about thorn, our instructions and prayers, we must be taught that something more is necessary in order to make them comforts to us. The Lord often makes use of our children as a rod for cor- recting us for our past miscarriages, and a very sharp rod it is. But though this should not be the case, we must be taught to reverence divine sovereignty in the disposal of our offspring, both with regard to tem- poral and eternal concerns. They sometimes take courses which are trying in the meantime, but which the Lord turns out for good in the issue. Many a day good old Jacob mourned for Joseph as for one lost, and yet you know how very comfortable was the end that was brought about by this dark providence. Who knows what may be brought out of this event, though indeed very trying for the present. Let us try to wrestle at the throne, that the Lord may pursue your son with mercy, keep him from sin, and bring him back to himself as another gained prodigal. You have much comfort in your other children, and should not take it amiss if the Lord see it meet to try you in him. I was very happy to see J. so well at the synod ; but he must take more exercise for the sake not merely of himself, -but the church. He is a very valu- able and promising young man. You and I, my dear W. are far advanced on our journey, I hope, to a better world. O what a happy attainment is it to be daily ripening for, and to have clear views of, a safe landing ! It is by faith that the believer first enters LETTERS. 121 into rest, and it is in the exercise of faith in Christ in the promise, that we grow in meetness for the inheritance of the saints in light. Assurance of the love of God naturally springs out of believing. It is a most prevalent and pernicious notion, now-a- days among us, that assurance is only the attainment of first-rate saints, and that others need not expect to enjoy it: hence they rest satisfied without it, and neglect the proper means of obtaining it ; whereas the Spirit directs all to seek it, — 2 Cor. xiii. 5. I believe that none fail of obtaining it who seek it in the way of faith, in the promise, by prayer, meditation, and close and frequent self-examination. Now to come to the crosses of this world of a more trivial nature. I am very sorry to learn you have met with such a sharp stroke upon your substance, from your neighbour. This is a new lesson to you, my dear brother, and to me also, not to cumber ourselves with the things of this world. How soon does an all- wise Providence blow up our fairest prospects ! It is very natural for the anxious, proud heart to suggest a num- ber of very idle reflections on such events as this, and our best friends are very apt to cast them in our teeth ; such as, You had no call to enter into such close habits with this Mr. , nor to give him so much credit ; you might have suspected and foreseen what was com- ing, &c. But such reflections are now of no avail, ex- cept it be to make you more cautious for the future. If you could have foreseen and prevented this loss, the trial had not come, and you would have wanted an op- portunity of profiting by it, which, I hope, the Lord will make you experience. If you have not seen M V2'2 LETTERS. " Williams' Diary," I would recommend it to your perusal. It will show you how much good the Lord brought to that godly man by sweeping away two- thirds of all he had in the world. Worldly losses have often been overruled for raising the heart to God himself, and deadening the affections to the things of time. I believe such events seldom take place in the Christian's lot ; but he has cause to look back and re- proach himself for having given the world, in one shape or another, more room in his heart, more of his time and attention, than was meet for a disciple of Jesus ; and when that is the case, God, and religion, and eternal concerns, are too much shut up to a corner. It is very amazing, and should be very humbling to us, to think by how many ways and wiles the carnality of the heart prevails against the children of God, to draw them off from a holy frame, and from a close walking with God, by a keen and restless pursuit of what is called a lawful occupation. The thing itself is lawful, but we are in danger of sinning by the degree of our ardour in its pursuit. I don't charge you with this, though I know you are constitutionally sanguine. O, W — , cry to God that this stroke on your substance may bring a deadly stroke on the corruptions of your soul, and then the loss will prove ultimately a great gain. Seek counsel of God as to the means of relief which you should employ; he can bring you out of all difficulty, and, what is far better, he can give you faith and patience to bear the cross, and grace to support you comfortably under it. In a very little you and I will be done with seen things ; and it were well if we could be taught, by all these occurrences, to live more LETTERS. 123 for eternity. This is the best, by far the best life. You have only lost a little of the dross — the best trea- sure cannot be lost. It is surprising how little of this world's good things will satisfy a holy, humble, con- tented mind. Ponder and pray over Heb. xiii. 5, — " Let your con- versation be in heaven," &c. We are living in evil times ; but the forty-sixth Psalm is a song for such a season. Let us mind one another at the throne. — T am ever your loving brother, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1801. My Dear Brother — As a series of trying dispen- sations are passing over your family, it is my duty to give you an expression of our most sincere sympathy with you all. • I shall begin by mentioning the very trying case of poor C — . We were very much grieved to hear that the Edinburgh physicians could be of so little service to her, but much delighted to hear that she is in a calm, resigned state of mind. I hope it springs from gospel principles. Nothing can yield real support to the soul at any time — nothing can sweeten the bitter waters of affliction — but the love of God shed abroad in the heart. Tell her, from me, to go straight to Jesus, as her only physician : he rejects none that come to him. He may not be pleased to remove the disease, but he can make it a great blessing to her soul. If it prove the mean, in his hand, of awakening her to a deep and saving 124 LETTERS. sense of her need of Christ, of the value of her soul, of the sweetness and suitableness of the word, and of the evil of sin, especially the sins of the heart, this will be the best visitation she ever met with. I might say the same to J — under her continued infirmity. I hope she is blessing the God who brought her down to the mouth of the grave, and has been pleased to raise her up again. Let her read Matt. ix. and inquire if she has got such a sweet intimation as the happy man there spoken of got from the Saviour's lips. M — was in the furnace also, but the Lord had mercy on her, and soon restored her to health. I hope she has been often inquiring at her own soul why the Lord chastened her, and whether she left the dross behind her? It is a great matter to come out of a trial in a cleanly way. As for you, my dear brother, these dispensations are speaking loudly to you, and I hope they have sent you often to your knees, and that there you have got your burdened soul poured into our heavenly father's bosom. There is no cordial like this in the day of trouble ! Let not earthly troubles sit too heavy on your mind. If we can trust a good God for all spiritual and eternal things, it may seem strange that we hesitate to trust him with our worldly concerns. A full cup of tem- poral blessings is not promised ; but faith can credit the God of grace for all that is really good for us. Little will serve you and me in this world ; we have been richly provided for hitherto, and let us trust him still. Put all your confidence in your best friend : you know him well, I hope. Keep his way, and you shall be remarkably carried through. Many have had cause to bless God that they were sent to the school of LETTERS. 125 affliction ; for sanctified tribulation worketh patience, patience experience, and experience hope : deliverance will come in the best way and at the fittest time. It seems the Lord has been smiting and trying A — also : may he be caught among the thorns I Sovereign grace is as able to reach his heart in the West Indies as in Scotland. We that are parents have many causes of anxiety, and many calls to pray for our families. We should imitate the example of Job, and every day pre- sent our spiritual sacrifices of prayer and praise to God on their account. Farewell, my dear brother ! — Yours, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1813. My Dear Brother — I think you never write me unless I lay you under the necessity of answering mine. You should think on my numerous engage- ments, and not stand upon empty forms. The older I grow I find that I have the more to do, and I am not sorry at it, as I never feel so happy as when immersed in my good Master's work. I am now reckoning on the approaching termination of my poor labours in the Lord's vineyard, and that I have much need to redeem time lost in my youth, and likewise many lost oppor- tunities. After all, it is a consoling thought that we have a more noble ground of hope for acceptance with God than the very best doings or experiences of the holiest of saints. I am sorry to learn that still C — is no better. What shall we say ? The medicinal waters of Siloam had no efficacy till the angel of the covenant m 2 126 LETTERS. troubled the pool. I hope she has learned some useful lessons in this furnace which all the doctors in Scot- land could not teach her, — viz. to love Christ more, to hate sin more, to prize the word more, to value the world less, to pray more frequently, more fervently, more humbly, and more confidently. If trials send us into ourselves to see, feel, and deplore our heart plagues, our besetting sins — if they send us aw T ay to the word for light, direction, and support — if they send us up to God himself, by faith and prayer, for help, healing, and comfort — they are undoubtedly sanc- tified trials, yielding the peaceable fruits of righteous- ness, and we may thank God for them, though they may be very sharp to flesh and blood. I should be very happy if my young afflicted niece would write, and let me know how it is going with her soul. Though we may never again meet in this world, a little epistolary correspondence may be use- ful to us both. Let me know in your next how you keep your health. You and I are now far advanced in life ; we should be looking over Jordan, and ex- pecting the midnight cry. — I ever am, in sincere re- gards, yours, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1816. My dear Brother — I hope you will excuse my not answering your letter sooner. You say that you find it a difficult thing to write a letter even to a friend. I assure you that the difficulty lies in overcoming your aversion. Could you prevail on yourself to take the LETTERS. 127 pen in your hand, and write down your thoughts to your friend just as they occur, and as you would speak if you saw him face to face, you would never want matter, particularly when writing to a Christian friend. Look within to your own heart, and without to Christ in the word, and you will never want a subject. You are usually rather in the complaining way ; .this is the common breath of Christians in our time, and I rather suppose it has been the way in every age. There are a few highly favoured saints in God's house who live near himself, see his goings, and sit under his banner, while the generality of his family are kept, not by him but by their own sinful hearts, at a greater distance and on shorter allowance. Their faith and patience are put to the test by various occurrences which prove very trying. The Lord sees it best to let them feel that they are in the wilderness and the field of battle. Heaven at last will more than make up for all; but I am fully persuaded we would have more light and comfort in our Christian course were we more about God's hand, more at his throne wrestling for the blessing, and more engaged in searching for him in the word. The great evil is, that though we feel matters not right between God and us, we either sink into a listless indifference or into despondence : both are equally dishonouring to God and hurtful to ourselves. The directions of God are these, " Seek and ye shall find ;" " then shall ye seek me and find me, when ye search for me with all the heart \" " he meeteth him that rejoiceth, and worketh righteousness." Our great concern should be to learn more and more the heavenly art of living by faith on the Son of God; and such a 128 LETTERS. life cannot be without some measure of joy, peace, and assurance. May the Lord teach us more the mystery of this happy, happy life ! Some time since I heard that you had got some ac- count of your son A — 's death, but had no certainty as to its truth. I am sorry to say it is too true. I was last week visiting friends at Dundee, and met with a gentleman there, direct from Grenada, who was per- fectly well acquainted with him ; he was often visiting in his house, and used to talk over Scottish affairs with him ; he knew that A — was my nephew, and was anxi- ous to give me the information ; he says he died of a decline in April last. It is a melancholy satisfaction to be assured of the fact as to this trying event. You know where to look for direction and comfort. When death enters our families, our sovereign Lord only as- serts his divine right to take whom, and how, and where it pleases him. Your late son had his course to run, and the event shows where it was to end. Who knows but mercy may have followed and apprehended him even in that Sodom : the Lord has his small rem- nant in these wicked islands. Our chief concern should be to improve this dispensation for God's glory and our own spiritual benefit. You and I are now old ; yet, by this event, we are taught that the young and vigorous may be arrested, while the old and grey headed are spared for a little. Let us all be concerned to get into the ark without delay. The believer in Christ shall never taste of the second death. This is a most adverse and threatening season ; a great deal cut down but almost none got in, although it is now the 30th of September. If we have a day LETTERS. 129 or two fair, a deluge of rain succeeds. The Lord is angry with Britain and with Europe ; he is pouring out the vials of his indignation ; we may therefore ex- pect to drink of the bitter cup. Matters seem to be hastening to a sad crisis with this country. Our duty and safety will be to enter into our chambers, and abide there for a little moment until the indignation be over past. Let us be much at the throne. — Ever yours, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1820. My Dear Brother — You know that my dear partner in life has been very ill for some weeks. Her complaints had baffled all medical skill ; and the sove- reign Lord called her home yesterday morning at seven o'clock. But I cannot, I dare not complain, after forty-two years' loan of such a pleasant com- panion in this vale of tears. God himself lives to be my stay, my guide, my counsellor, my all. The re- mainder of my journey must be short, — I am looking out for the coming of the blessed bridegroom. He showed much mercy to my dear fellow-traveller in her last moments. Her pain was much mitigated — her mind was calm and resigned. I cannot say that she had much comfort ; but she had no fear from the apprehension of natural death. She w r as very much in prayer, and had the full possession of her mind to the last. The breach in this family is great; but the Lord is the healer of breaches. She is taken away, but he has left me daughters to sooth my mind in the 130 LETTERS. decline of life. Let us have your prayers, that we may be enabled to improve this loud warning for quickening our pace toward the goal. Let us keep our eye on the great forerunner, who has entered within the vail. Let us lean on his arm and press forward. " We shall reap, if we faint not." Your concern and mine now, my dear brother, should be to honour God in all services and trials. But I am afraid that you are under the temptation of withdrawing too soon from active life. I don't mean that you should still persevere in the bustle of the world, as the Lord has kindly given you a son to relieve you of this burden ; - but you should employ your energies in useful pursuits. For instance, you have been long an active member of the congregation and session — attend to the public interests of religion — attend all meetings of session when able for it- embrace every opportunity for encouraging and stimu- lating the young in a religious course — try to be as useful as you can in your own family, especially among careless servants brought under your charge. You will find it for your health to take a little ex- ercise every day in the field : the mind loses its spring of activity when the body sinks into an inactive state. Time is a very precious talent which the Lord re- quires us to occupy. No man in this world, though even laid on a sick-bed, should live unto himself. Excuse these hints from a brother. It is my ear- nest desire that you should be fat, and flourish even in old age. Our comfort is, that precious Christ is the green fir tree ; from hira is our fruit found. We can have no life, nor sap, nor fruit, without living LETTERS. 131 daily on him, and for him. May the Lord enable us both to aim at this in the daily exercise of faith and diligence in prayer! Farewell, my dear brother! — Ever yours, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1822. My Dear Brother — I learn, by your son, that you are feeling the decays of old age creeping on. After traversing this vale of tears threescore and fifteen years, you have reason to wonder that you retain so much strength, and particularly that your mind is so vigorous. You see the great kindness of God in providing a son and daughter to guard and comfort you in the decline of life. You may now occupy yourself only about the concerns of a better world. To feel ourselves disentangled from the cares of this life, to have some kind friends to relieve us from the necessity of attending to them when we are bowing down to meet the grave, is a great comfort. But while I mention this as a favourable circum- stance in your lot, you and I know that something more — something infinitely better — is necessary to carry on the heavenly life to perfection in the soul. When the blessed spirit of grace forms the new man in the heart, he will certainly carry on his own work. It may seem to make very slow progress — it may get many backsets from temptation ; but the hand of our great Zerubbabel hath laid the foundation, and he also will lay on the copestone. We must never forget, however, that we are also to be workers together with 132 LETTERS. God. The Spirit of God, by Jude, verses 20, 21, marks out our duty : " But ye beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, look- ing for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." If we would make progress in the Christian life, we must live daily at the throne of grace in fervent prayer. This will fan the flame of divine love in our soul, and keep us in the frame which Jude recommends. In this way, death will neither be a surprise nor a disappointment to us. O, no: it will bring us to our father's house — our Re- deemer's presence — to the delightful and eternal fel- lowship of holy saints and angels — where, I hope, we will meet and recognise many of our once fellow- travellers who have gone home before us. It is plea- sant to encourage one another with these delightful prospects while we are by the way. I would have been happy to learn, by a line from yourself, how you seem bearing up under these infirmities ;^but I feer I will not enjoy that pleasure again. May we often meet at the throne ! — Your loving brother, A. P. To the Same, Perth, 1823. My Dear Brother — I now find that no entreaties will prevail on you to drop me an answer to my letters ; and this has the effect of making me write more seldom than I otherwise would. An occasional letter from a distant friend is as a voice crying for an LETTERS. 13o answer. It is a stimulant to duty. What is an epistolary oorretpoftdeace but two distant friends conversing to- gether according to their circumstances? We have both been long on the road of life — have seen and felt many of its vicissitudes — have, I hope, tasted some- what of the grapes of Eschol — and are now approach- ing the confines of the promised land. We have made a very bad use of time — of opportunities — of the mercies and trials that have passed over us, if we have nothing to say to one another concerning the way by which the Lord hath led us these seventy years in the wilderness. I think I hear you replying, " Yes, yes ; I own that I have made a bad use of all the special privileges and opportunities which God hath graciously conferred on me." I most cordially join in the same acknowledgment ; but we may be useful to one another even in the way of reciprocating our complaints. It gives relief to a mind oppressed with woe, to get it emptied into the bosom of a friend. We old people are in danger of falling under the influence of gloomy impressions and too retired habits, because we cannot now recall the vivacity of youth, and the genial flow of animal spirits ; but we should recollect that none will expect this of us, — it would be unseemly. We may be grave and yet cheerful, com- municative without being loquacious. May the living Head of the church make you all lively members of his body mystical ! Farewell ! — Ever yours, A. P. N 184 LETTERS. To the Same. Perth, 1327- My Dear Brother — I have various reason* for continuing my correspondence with you; for, besides the claims of relationship, we are, I hope, fellow- travellers toward the heavenly Jerusalem, — and the pleasure of conversing together bv the way is crreat. While the two disciples talked together by the way to Emmans, the Lord himself drew near and joined their company. I ask you now again, my dear brother, is your soul prospering ? I have no doubt that you have long ago cast all your spiritual cares on the Lord ; nevertheless, we must take care also, 1st, That we abide in Christ by faith and humble dependence, drawing all our sup- plies from him alone, of grace and strength for duty ; 2dly, We must take care that we keep the King's high- way. There are many by-paths, many enemies waiting for our halting, and seeking to retard and mislead us,, but above them all are our heart-corruptions. You have freed yourself from external entanglements ; but I daresay you feel that it is not so easy to disburden your soul, and keep the door shut against the intrusion of vain and carnal imaginations, even at these time* when vou would wish to be wholly with God. It is a mournful fact in Christian experience, that ' ; when we would do good, evil is present with us.'' But our daily concern should be to watch, and wrestle, and pray that the enemv may be restrained, and at last cast out. 3dly, We should daily be on our guard that we fall not from our first love — spiritual decays often creep very LETTERS. 135 insensibly upon us. We, in old age, cannot expect the same How of feeling, even in religion, as when we pos- N than our Father judges necessary. He takes no pleasure in grieving the hearts of his children : he cor- rects for our profit. Justify the Lord, and say, " Re- turn into thy rest, O my soul !" Allow me to tender an advice to you, in reference to your local situation. M — is the very focus of the Socinian heresy. From what I know of that denomi- nation, they are, of all others, the most insidious ene- mies to the cross of Christ and the gospel of salvation, and also most anxious to inject their poison into young minds. The writings of Priestly (who at last confessed himself a downright materialist), and of others follow- ing him on the road to the same delusion, they recom- mend wherever they go. Their whole system is to exalt nature into the throne of nature's God, and to banish the doctrines of revealed religion concerning the Trinity, the divinity of Christ, his atonement, and the influence of the Spirit, out of the church of God. Be on your guard against them. I would recommend to your notice Miss Jane Graham's Memoir — edited by LETTERS. 207 the late Mr. Bridges — a woman and a Christian of the first rank for intelligence and religion. I have only time to add, that we were all delighted with your two last letters, they breathe such warn} Christian feeling, and resignation to the divine will, under this heavy bereavement. The Bible, the throne of grace, and the sayings and doings of your late father, must be now your only consolation. I commend you to the care of the God of all grace ; — and I ever am your sympathizing father, A. P. To the Same. March, 1837- My Dear Alexander — I thank you for your kind and acceptable letter last sent me. Although I gave you a hint concerning the infatuated followers of Priestly, it proceeded from no suspicion of any leanings toward them. But we are not the worse of a warning voice from the lips of a friend when in a situation of danger. Your reply pleased me much : it breathes the spirit of one who has taken his stand for time and eternity under the canopy of redeeming love. Study, my dear son, to live near God, and he will guide you with his counsel. Seethat you go out of your closet every morning with your heart seasoned and steeped in the love of Christ, and your hands will not stick to, nor your heart be defiled by, the bustle of the warehouse. Improve your Sabbaths as times of holy rest, conse- crated to fellowship with the God of your life. It is daily fellowship with God which alone will keep the 208 LETTERS. soul in a spiritual frame. Your young brother is leaving us to seek employment where God may open a door. It gives us all much peace of mind that he is going to be under your eye, especially at night. He is a very gentle and amiable youth, but a great stranger to the world, and not aware of the many snares which surround the young man at his outset in life. You can from experience warn him of his danger. He has shown no turn hitherto to take up or form intimacies with strangers, which is so far good. He possesses a talent which may prove very ensnaring if known in M — . I mean high musical powers. This gift has proved a snare to many a promising youth, as the means of drawing him into company, frequently of the very worst description. I intend to speak very parti- cularly to him on this subject before he leave us ; but you will act a kind part to him if you watch over him, and prevail with him utterly to conceal his talent when in company, and reserve it only for the service of God in religion, or perhaps for the gratification of his friends in private. I hope the Lord, who is the orphan's stay, will be with him. He is a promising youth. And we all join in the prayer, that our God and your late father's God may guide, and guard, and comfort you both in every step of your way through this ensnaring, sorrowing world. — And believe me your loving father, while life remains, A. P, LETTERS. 209 To Mr. and Mrs. \V — m J — n, Jamaica. Cherrybank, 1837- My Dear Children — So I address you now. Oar all- wise and gracious Father in heaven has broken the intermediate link which connected you to a father on earth, more near, more dear, and more worthy of the name father. But now that the Saviour, whom he loved, has been pleased to take him to himself, and place him in his mansion above, I feel more closely joined to you both. The staff on which we were in danger of leaning too much weight is broken. But God lives ; he is the rock of salvation ; and the blessed Kinsman is saying to us, " Because I live, ye shall live also." Your warm breathings in your last letter to us evidence that the sore blow which has fallen on us all is causing much smarting in the flesh; but the spirit is receiving that holy unction from above which is mak- ing you sing even in your sorrow. He is writing so much love in the various events passing over you, that you may well sing, " In the multitude of thoughts within, thy comforts delight my soul. — His mercy endureth for ever.'* Be this your song, and we desire cordially to join you in it. Your dear brothers and sisters have been wonderfully supported in passing through this Red Sea. And above all, we rejoice that we have such sure hope that our dear departed is sing- ing, with the happy company around the throne, " Sal- vation to God and the Lamb for ever and ever. Amen." The great void now made by the removal of him so dear to us all can only be filled up — much more than filled up — by giving our great and glorious t 2 210 LETTERS. Friend the throne of love in all our hearts. I see he is at the very core of yours. We are all overjoyed at the good tidings you send us. Your kind Lord has set your feet in a large room after trying your faith in your stormy passage. I have often thought and said, since your letter arrived., that the Lord has dealt with you as with the great apostle in his passage to Rome. He was tossed when on the boisterous waves, and at last shipwrecked. The prince of the power of the air intended to drown him, and all with him in the ship ; but God set him his boundary, over which he could not pass. The ship was lost, but all the passen- gers were saved, in answer to Paul's prayers. God saved your vessel and all in it, except the poor boy, of whom you speak with hope that the Lork took him. Your landing on the shore of Jamaica gave you full evidence that our kind Master had opened to you a wide door of entrance. The hearty welcome with which you were received was to you the voice of God, saying, " Come in, thou blessed of the Lord, and lead us to the Saviour. We are all here waiting to hear what the Lord will say to us by thy mouth.'' The very name of the place where you have pitched your tent bespeaks mercy in store for you. God, who gave his Joseph favour in the eyes of Pharoah the king, is touching the hearts of the planters and overseers of the land to favour you. We rejoice at this : but your chief work is among the Negro population. Your earnest cry for the assistance of teachers is very urgent and powerful. I intend to proclaim it wherever I go. I admire your wisdom and prudence in telling the overseers the propriety of gaining the concurrence of LETTERS. 211 the people among whom you labour to the erection of a house for worship ere you write home for assistance in money. This is the true spirit of Voluntaryism. They must and ought to feel their personal interest in all the external accommodations for the worship of God. I am glad to learn that you are within reach of two or three of your fellow-labourers in the work of God. I was also rejoiced to read the harmonious re- solutions of a considerable number of the Missionaries, of different denominations, to co-operate in all things as brethren in the great work of God in the mission, and thus guarding themselves against every thing that would mar their common usefulness, without compre- mising their distinctive principles. I hope the resolu- tions will be universally approved and acted upon by all in the island. Your next letter will, I hope, bring farther intelligence of your success and prospects. — Farewell ! Let us meet at a throne of grace, till He who sits on it be pleased to take us to his throne of glory. — Ever yours, A. P. To Mr. J— J—, M — Perth, 13th Feb. 1839. My very Dear James — I am happy to receive no- thing from M — concerning you but what is commen- datory and what I anticipated. I at first thought of addressing you in the language of congratulation, but, on second thought, I concluded that it was more suit- able to my old age and your youth to tender a few warnings and encouragements to my young friend en- tering on life in a strange place, and among many who 212 LETTERS. Will attempt to draw you aside from the path of holi- ness. I hope, dear James, you have been enabled to give a positive answer to that grave and solemn de- mand from the mouth of a gracious Saviour, " My son, give me thine heart." Remember and respect the de- dication every day. You are gone to a place where many new objects will present themselves to your view with many alluring attractions ; take care lest any of them get an undue place in your affections. Forget not that this last temptation was the chief one present- ed to our Lord himself in the wilderness, by which the devil attempted to ensnare him in his net. The great enemy of souls found nothing in him on which he could fasten his bait ; but, alas ! in us he finds so many evil principles ready to catch at the bait, that even the most guarded are apt to be caught. The inexperience of youth is apt to throw them off their guard. The apostle warns young Timothy to flee youthful lusts. You will meet with young men of various characters in M — . Some of them may appear so loose and unguarded in their conversation, that you will easily see you should avoid all intimacy with them ; but there may be others equally bad, but of a polished and insinuating address, who may have a secret design to draw you into the intimacy of friendship ; and hav- ing gained this point, they will gradually broach some loose principles against religion, as if it were gross ignorance, blind superstition, or, at best, childish folly. They will hint that the Bible must be brought down to the bar of reason, and tried by this standard. Flee such, as the worst enemies of your temporal and eter- nal interests. Trv to find some one or two who mani- LETTERS. 213 fest acquaintance with serious religious and moral principles, and occasionally associate with them as fel- low-travellers in wisdom's pleasant paths. If you can find such in your office, good and well; but do not hesitate to keep on habits of common intercourse with those with whom you mix in business. " If it be pos- sible," says the Bible, " as much as in you lieth live peaceably with all men." Be thankful that you have a parent with you in your elder brother, who, from experience, can give you suitable advice and direction. You have also had the great enjoyment of your sister's motherly kindness in your introduction into public life. Nay, more ; you see, I hope, the kindness of your hea- venly Father manifested by placing you in a situation which you much relish. These are all marks of kind- ness never to be forgotten. All friends here are rejoicing in the goodness of God to you in your outset in the world, and hope he will continue to watch over you to the end. I can only add, in a few words, study to make your closet your Bethel, your Bible your counsellor, and the throne of grace your daily resort for direction and supplies of grace, strength, and comfort. Let the Sabbath and the sanctuary be the chief time and place of your resort to God for the good of your soul. Take care, my dear James, of fall- ing into a cold and lifeless frame in the service of God. Daily stir up your soul in the duties of personal reli- gion. Cry that the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, may keep your heart and mind by Christ Jesus. I shall be happy to hear from you soon, to tell me how you come on in the Christian life. You are often 214 LETTERS. on our minds, and in our mouths and prayers. Good Mrs. D — of the G — left this vain world on Monday night last. Her precious dust is to be laid in the grave on Monday next. " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord." The removal of this warm friend makes a great blank to us. But Jesus says, I live. In the course of nature I cannot be lon^ behind her. O to be ready when my Lord comes ! Farewell ! — Ever your loving father, A. P. To Mrs. M— of G — Perth, 1835. My Dear Madam — I had the pleasure of seeing for a few moments your kind-hearted husband when last in this place, on a mournful occasion — mournful to earthly relations, but joyful to your departed friend, who is, I hope, entered into the joy of her dear Lord ; and joyful also to our gracious Redeemer, who hath pleasure in the death of his saints. She has got the start of you, who have been in deaths often, because her work was done, and she was made ready and willing to depart to be with Christ, which is far better. You, and more especially I, who have been so long spared in the wilderness, are yet in the field of battle. Though we are placed in externally comfortable cir- cumstances, I hope we both experimentally feel that daily conflict with the enemy which the apostle so strikingly describes in Rom. vii. 14-24. This is a struggle which the ungodly world know nothing of. But let us keep up our courage, we have a kind com- passionate leader, a good cause, a joyful prospect, and LETTERS. 215 final victory secured, through the cross of our trium- phant Captain of salvation. Paul's concluding sentence, in the passage just referred to, is a shout of victory anticipated, — " I thank God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. " He identifies himself with all believers to the end of time. We also shall reap, if we faint not. I am delighted to hear, by Mr. M — , that you are going on with your female associates in the way of the Lord, when so many private friendships are broken off, even among them who seem to be seeking the way to the Zion above. This is a time when the Lord seems to be coming to search Jerusalem as with lighted candles. There is much dust to be swept away, both in churches and nations, and we need not wonder that the eyes of even good folks should be somewhat blind ; but light will arise by and bye, and all the fearers of God will see eye to eye, and sing together with one voice, and also serve him with one consent. This glorious con- summation I shall not see on earth ; but let us rejoice that the happy news will be proclaimed to those around the King's royal throne. Your worthy husband informs me that you are still labouring under your frequent infirmities ; yet, although troubled, not distressed — though sometimes perplexed, yet not in despair — though cast down, not forsaken — though sometimes sorrowing, yet always rejoicing. Go on, my dear friend, in the strength of the Lord your God, singing the 130th Psalm, and your God will perfect what concerns his glory in you and by you. In G — k you began the plan of Maternal Associa- tions. A few of our mothers in Perth have caught the spirit, and commenced the good work. I hope the 216 LETTERS. example will be followed elsewhere. I need say no- thing about myself — only that I am helped of my in- dulgent Master to continue in his work with increasing pleasure — my health is steady, through the Lord's re- markable kindness — and I find that the Lord's way is my strength. I hope he will be with me to the end of my course. Pray, earnestly pray for this — it must be near — and I am in some measure on the outlook for it, yet willing to stay while the Lord is pleased to make any use of my poor services. I send this by my good colleague. My earnest wish and prayer to God for you both is, that your souls may more and more prosper. The Lord be with you in life and death ! — Ever your affectionate friend and father, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1838. My Dear Friend — I heard, the other day, that you had been at Aithry Wells, and that the great and good Physician had communicated to you some benefit from these waters. The first thought suggested to my mind was — Is my kind friend so near me, seeking a cordial to her frail body, and I knew it not, that I might have held up the case to our kind Father's throne. But it is often wisely ordered that the particular circumstances of our dearest friends on earth should sometimes be concealed from fellow-travellers Zion- ward, that we may be taught to cease from man, and place our whole confidence in the Lord alone. You have been a child of the family, inured to many fatherly LETTERS, 217 chastisements, and I am persuaded that, on the review, you would not wish to have wanted one of them. They have been the means, in your great Physician's hand, of quickening your pace heavenward, — of clearing your evidences for eternity, — of keeping you humble in your spiritual frame, — of elevating your views above this vain and ensnaring world, — and of giving you many errands to your Father's footstool. The longer we sojourn in this sinning world, and bear about us such deceitful and carnal hearts, we feel that nothing will keep us right except daily intercourse with our heavenly Father by faith and prayer. Occa- sional intercourse with a few lively and experimental fellow-travellers may cheer and encourage us onward in our course — " iron sharpeneth iron" — but it is only the heavenly unction which will cause our faces to shine and our hearts to sing as we press forward to- ward the mark for the prize of eternal life. Even the sweet singer of Israel confessed, that unless he had believed he should have fainted. Lean, my friend, lean daily on the beloved, and you shall mount upward as on eagles' wings. Be thankful, too, that a kind husband has been given you of the Lord to sympathize with you, and help you forward by his fervent and frequent prayers and Christian example. May the tender mercies of our gracious Father rest on you "both, and perfect his good work in your souls at last ! I earnestly claim a deep interest in your prayers at the footstool of mercy. I hope our mutual cries often mingle in the censer of our great and glorious High Priest before his Father's throne. I again thank you for the kind memorial put into u '218 LETTERS my hand when leaving G . It has a treble value me, as coming from a friend who is, I trust, sitting md daily walking under the broad-spreading shadow of the great Rock in this weary and sinning land. Not e drop of wrath can reach those who are under the covert of Immanuel's righteousness. The kind Keeper and Shepherd of Israel watch over you both while on earth, and at last minister to you an open and honour- able entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ ! — I remain your loving and lisred old friend, A. P. To Mr. Thomas Pringle,* London. Perth, Oct. 1834. My Dear Nephew — Your last letter arrived the her day; it came with a knell to my heart. When I turned my mind to my distant friend, I saw him, in ought, gently floating on a troubled sea ; but observed the best of all Friends standing by him, holding him by e hand, and saying, " It is I, be not afraid." My Dining song to-day was Psalm cxlvi. and cxlvii. ; you were in my mind while I sang it with delight. You have been taught experimentally the truth of that * Late Secretary to the Anti- Slavery Society in London. For a ,es of years Mr. Pringle devoted himself to the business of this So- cietv. His talents and literature, and extensive acquaintance with lunial affairs, aided by untiring zeal and pure philanthropy, were of ->?ential service in the cause of emancipation. But his labours were . ond his strength ; just about the time that the victory was achieved health gave way. As a means of bis recovery, a voyage to his nds in Africa was recommended ; but before he was prepared for the voyage be was too ill to embark ; and in a short time he died, la- mented by the best in the naticD, who well knew his worth and still vere his memory. LETTERS. 219 word, " Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help ;" but " happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help" You have felt that it is folly to lean on the staff of a broken reed ; but he that trusteth in the Lord, happy is he ! When the Lord seeth that human hope is gone, and there seems to be none shut up or left, then he repents himself for his servants. Your desire to return to the Cape seems now to be granted ; your work in London is finished, honourably finished, to the glory of God, to the honour of your country, in the liberation of the oppressed and abused African slaves, and, I hope, for gathering in a multitude of them to the Redeemer. As some compensation for your past labours, God is putting it into the hearts of friends to minister to your necessities. This is so like God's way that you cannot mistake the kind hand of a father in this dispensation. The kindness of the donors, too, will give them a deeper hold on your heart. But while I say all this concerning your external circumstances, I do not forget that I am writing to a dear friend labouring under a dangerous malady. You tell me "that you placed the result, in reference to travelling funds, in His hand who had so wisely and kindly conducted you hitherto." Well, my dear friend, make a similar deposit of your eternal all into the same gracious and faithful hand, who will keep that whicli is committed unto him against that day. All who are now before the throne took this course, and have not been disappointed. They, too, had to pass through great tribulation ; but, having washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb, they got a triumphant passage 220 LETTERS. over Jordan, and entered Immanuel's land singing, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain I" Keep your eye steadily fixed on the cross of Christ by faith, and lie will support you under all your weakness, and con- vey you through all difficulties. What think you of his dying bequest? — John xiv. 1, 2, 3-27. Put him in remembrance of his precious promises, — Isaiah xl. 28- 31; xlii. 1-4; liv. 10. The book of God is full of such precious cordials ; — drink and praise the Lord. I feel much for Mrs. P — and Miss B — in present circumstances. The prospect of another voyage to the Cape would occasion comparatively small anxiety were you in wonted health ; but tell them to encourage themselves in the Lord ; he rules in the raging of the sea, both in the literal and figurative sense. You and they are as safe, under divine protection, in the cabin of a ship, as on dry land. I entertain hope, if it be the will of our heavenly Father, that the African tem- perature may prove as beneficial to you as it was to your brother W — At any rate, the Lord is pointing it out as present duty to make the trial ; and how pleasing is the prospect of again embracing your nearest relations on earth ! You and I shall never again meet on earth ; but the best wishes and prayers of all friends in Scotland will follow you in your voyage. The Lord. I hope, will give you a safe landing, and a comfortable meeting with all friends in Glen Linden. Now, my dear friends, I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which is able to keep you from falling, and present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. — We all join in this earnest prayer, and remain yours, A. P. LETTERS. 221 To the Same. Perth, 18IU. My Dear Nephew — I was much surprised yester- day at the arrival of your letter, and deeply affected with the details it brought me of your detention in London, and especially with the cause of it. We had often been speaking and praying for you as on the bo- som of the mighty waters, hoping, however, that the Lord had detained the vessel until the terrible winds in the beginning of October had passed away. But God's ways and thoughts are not ours ; only, let us believe that he doth all things well. I must not dwell on these things, but tell you a fact about myself, which took place about forty years ago. I was laid down in a bi- lious fever, which bade defiance to all medical prescrip- tions for twenty-five days. I was so reduced that f could not walk from the bed to the chair. I said to my medical friends, quite from my own suggestion, or rather, I believe, by suggestion from above, Did you doctors never think of trying a blister in a case like this ? They owned that the thought had never struck them. The blister was immediately applied ; a blessing came along with it, and my recovery began from that moment. I merely mention this, to let you know that I too was brought to the gates of death and yet raised up again, and to suggest that the very same Physician can do the same for you, if it so please him. This would please me much ; but, dear friend, it pleases me far more to see your spirit so much mellowed down, and brought to say to your heavenly Father, " Not my will but thine be done." This holy and happy frame of mind is a u 2 '2'22 L£TTERS= satisfying evidence that the Lord's hand is supporting you, and his spirit sanctifying the rod. I hope you can say, on good ground, with the apostle, " Whether I live, I live to the Lord, and whether I die, I die to the Lord." When we look, bv faith, to the death of our kind Redeemer, what have we to fear? His merito- rious blood is a canopy to shield us from the sting of the last messenger ; and, what is better, it is a complete covering to hide all our guilt and defilement from the eye of a righteous Judge. Under this covert God sees no iniquity in Jacob, nor perverseness in Israel. I am glad to see you leaving all that concerns you personally, and also your nearest and dearest relations, in the hand of a gracious Father. He does all things well : he will fulfil all that concerneth you, and them also. Let us admire the kindness of God, in detaining you in London by this messenger of affliction, because he knew a sea voyage would have been fatal. Let us sing both of mercy and judgment. You have had an useful life, which has been devoted to God, and the promotion of one of the greatest events of our eventful time. But when we appear before God, we must throw all our poor defective works and doings behind our back, and cry, " Unprofitable servants !" I am afraid you have exerted yourself above your strength in your last kind letter. You must be very careful of this. Having taken your station at the foot- stool of the throne of a God of mercy, there remain and cry, and wait, in faith, hope, and prayer, looking on while the Angel of the Lord does wondrously. Should it be our Father's will to advance your begun recovery, I will be refreshed with a few lines from LETTERS. 223 your hand. If otherwise, the door of the bridechamber is open ; and I hope an abundant entrance will be mi- nistered to you into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, where the sun will no more go down, nor the moon withdraw her shining. You are on our hearts at our Father's throne. He hears the prayers of the destitute. Farewell ! The Lord bless you and keep you — the Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and give you peace, both in life and at death, is the prayer of your affec- tionate uncle, A. P. To Mrs. T — P — , London. Perth, 1834. My Dear Mrs. P — By this day's newspaper, I learned that your worthy husband was taken from you on Friday last, — a happy change to him, though a grievous loss to you ! But, dear friend, look at the bright side of the cloud, and read the many tokens of God's love to you. He gave you the good husband now gone ; he spared him many years with you ; has honoured him to fill a most useful sphere in society, both at home and abroad ; has raised him many friends in London, to sympathize with you in your trials, and to be ready to administer comfort ; and now, when his work is done, has, I hope, taken him home to himself for ever. I would say to you, fear not; I have no doubt he will take care of you and your sister. What a blessing you had her with you on this trying occasion. By looking at the date of his death, I perceive that he would not see my last letter. But no matter; the 224 LETTERS. Lord, I hope, filled him with joy and peace in believ- ing. I will thank you, when you find time and ability, to send me a particular account of his last moments ; and tell me, if, like good Stephen, he died calling on the Lord Jesus. Look to the widow's gracious Hus- band for direction in your course. Remember his promise, and plead it in prayer, — " I will bring the blind by a way which they knew not ; I will lead them in paths which they have not trod." " I will make darkness light before them, crooked things straight, and rough places plain." He can turn the shadow of death into the morning. His wise and kind hand should be seen and acknowledged in all his providential administrations. How are you supported under this very trying event? Remember that when Christ fore- told trials to his disciples, he said to them, When you see these things coming on you, then lift up your heads. There is no other quarter from whence we can obtain effectual relief and comfort. Study the Bible — ply the throne of grace — put in your claim to the everlasting Husband as your only friend and counsellor — believe his promise, and you shall be established. I have said before, I expect to have the particulars of the trying event as soon as possible. All here join me in the most tender expressions of sympathy and affection. May a gracious God sweeten your bitter cup of present sor- row ! I leave you on the care of Him who only com- forts his mourners ; and remain your affectionate uncle, A. P. LETTERS. 225 To Friends in Business, Perth. My Dear Friends — You are very busy trading in this world's business. Let me put the one question of the greatest importance to you, — Are you trading with heaven ? This is a trade of the most profitable and lucrative kind. There are losses and gains in this trade too ; but it is remarkable that the very things which appear present losses turn out gains in the end. On the side of loss you may mark down carnal pleasure, carnal company, the gratification of every heart lust ; and to these you may sometimes add the loss of many worldly good things, such as health, wealth, the esteem of the world, &c. Now, can you say that you count all these things loss for Christ ? On the side of gain you may mark down union to Christ, the favour of God and communion with him, the inhabitation of the Holy Spirit, pardon of sin, adoption into God's family, holiness of heart and life, assurance of God's love, peace of conscience, joy in the Holy Ghost, increase of grace, and perseve- rance in it until you reach heaven at last. It is easy to see that the side of gain far exceeds that of loss. But it is of great moment to understand the proper way of trading with heaven here. 1. You must be made citizens in regeneration. 2. You must learn the rules of the spiritual trade from the Bible. 3. You must send new orders, by faith and prayer, to heaven every day. 4. Your orders must all be made out in Christ's name. 226 LETTERS. 5. You must offer no payment except the incense of gratitude and praise. 6. When your returns come, note them down in your day-book. 7. Show what is sent you to the best advantage in your practice, but don't sell it or give it away for goods of this world. 8. Make large demands, — they cannot be too large or too frequent. 9. Drive no contraband trade on earth. It is lawfnl to traffic in the commodities of this world ; but beware of giving them that time or atten- tion which belongs to the things of a better. You think you are, on the whole, gaining in the trade of this world. O, can you say so as to your traffic with heaven? Have you taken any time to balance accounts for eternity? How do matters stand between God and you ? You must allow that it will be strange infatuation to study exactness as to your worldly business, and leave all in uncertainty as to your eternal concerns. I have hinted, that from the nature of your employ- ment you are apt to fall into carelessness, formality, and spiritual deadness. Your frequent hurries, your constant intercourse with the world, your increasing acquaintance with persons who may be agreeable enough, but sad hindrances as to religion — above all, the workings of the pride, the vanity, and carnality of the evil heart — will be a daily snare, and ought to be your great burden. Your exercise will go to wreck if you take not some time every morning for reading the word of God, meditation, and prayer. I doubt not LETTERS. 227 that you keep up the form of religion ; but this is a small matter if the heart is not in the work. You are sometimes called to large parties of friends : O, take care of any sinful compliances there, which may pro- voke the Lord to desert you both in the house and shop. It is not easy to go into company and come away with an approving God and a good conscience. I desire to exercise a constant jealousy over you and myself too, and to hold you up constantly to Him that is able to keep you from falling. May he always stand at your right hand ! — Ever yours, A. P. To a Young Friend. Perth. My Dear Friend — By a letter from your father we learnt that you have been rescued from a watery grave by a hair-breadth escape, and were much affected by the intelligence. D — n Loch, in the beginning of frost, has been for years past the spot where many incau- tious youths have been launched into eternity. Fondness for amusement on the ice has plunged many a family in and around into mourning and woe. Many admonitions have you got from God in his providence, and many else from friends, to repress your youthful propensity to ramble into scenes which expose you to danger, but you have hitherto disregarded them. The buoyancy of your spirits betrays you into many rash adventures fraught with imminent danger to your health. You seem to have despised past warnings as quite unnecessary ; but now, my dear friend, you have 228 LETTERS. received a warning from the hand of God himself. I seriously admonish you not to slight it, no, nor even forget it. Had the water where you sank been only a few inches deeper, or had none been at hand to draw you out when you stood in it up to your chin, where had you been ? I shudder at the very idea. Were you ready to meet the Judge of all on his high throne? or could you have said that you died in his servicer Did you bow your knees that morning at his throne, and seek his presence and care in your fond desire after youthful and dangerous amusement? Did you take time to open and consult the book of God for direction? Did you consider the general character of most of your companions ? Had you no forebodings that the ice might give way? Did the thought never cross your mind, that if it should, and your life be lost, your untimely death would bring down the grey hairs of your loving parents with sorrow to the grave, and wring the hearts of all your friends with bitter grief? Your father says that your own mind has got a grievous shock when reflecting on the danger to which you were exposed. This gives me some hope that the great deliverance may be sanctified for your merciful recovery from youthful inconsideration and rambling habits. O, my dear friend, your years of foolish rambling should have been over long ago. You have seen some years ; you were early devoted to God in baptism by your excellent father; your parents and other friends have often been at the throne of grace for you ; it is now time, it is high time, for you to consider the value of your soul, and the im- portance of real religion to every sinner. To live and LETTERS. 229 die without a personal interest in the Saviour of sinners is the direct road to everlasting ruin. I hope better things of you ; but I earnestly entreat you to consider your ways. The word of God repeatedly calls you to this important duty. Jesus himself says, " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteous- ness, and all other things shall be added unto you." Read and study the blessed book of God. Mock not the Father of mercy by a few hurried, rambling peti- tions, morning and evening. O begin to pray like one deeply sensible that your heart and nature are de- praved, and cry earnestly for mercy at the footstool of mercy: " Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find." Youth is a precious time. God com- mands the young to remember him, and seek him early, with the promise that they shall find him. Break off your connection with fashionable youths, who make a mock at religion, and would lead you astray, — avoid them particularly on the Lord's day. If you have not entered yourself a public member of the church, lose no time in taking this matter into serious consideration. But let your connection with the visible church be the consequence of accepting the kind offer of that Saviour who seeks the chief place in your heart. I need not say more. May the spirit of all grace bless these few friendly hints to your soul ! I put you into his gracious hand, and hope you will excuse my free dealings with you, as a friend whom I earnestly desire to see fleeing to the sinner's strong- hold. All here join in tender expressions of regard and thankfulness to God for your deliverance. — I ever am yours, A. P. x 230 LETTERS. To the Same. Perth. My Dear Friend — Your letter arrived in course. I felt much pleased with the general strain of your reply. You write like one beginning to awake out of a deep and dangerous sleep of thoughtless insensibility, lying on the brink of a tremendous precipice, and not knowing whither to run for safety* As you seem to be somewhat in the spirit of a con- vinced and returning prodigal, I would remind you that the Father of mercies, whom you have grievously offended, is seated on the throne of mercy, ready to receive you as a poor, forlorn child of woe, returning with a throbbing heart, and weeping eyes, and down- cast countenance, saying, " Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." The compassionate Redeemer is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him. But, my dear friend, you must come — come to him just as you are, a poor, guilty, helpless sinner, ready to perish, vet crying for mercy through the atoning blood of the Lamb. You must claim a personal interest in the Saviour of sinners. By faith cry that the Spirit of all grace may enable you to hide your guilty head under the glorious robe of Christ's righteousness, which can only shield you from the storm of divine wrath, ready to burst on you. You are a prisoner of hope. Flee to the stronghold open to receive you. The blood o£ Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. Open your Bible, and pray for divine illumination to understand and LETTERS. 231 apply the few following passages from the mouth of God himself, — Isa. i. 18; liii — lv. Consider closely Jer. xxxi. 18-20; Ezek. xxxvi. 25-27; Matt. xi. 28, 29 ; Eph. ii. ; and 1 John i. 8. O, pray in earnest for the heart-melting and heart-purifying influence of the Spirit of grace and supplication ! A sight of that Saviour who died for the chief of sinners will heal all your diseases, and nothing else will. I have often cried at the throne of mercy for you, and hope not to forget you ; but you must be impor- tunate with God for yourself. God hears the prayers of the poor, broken-hearted, suppliant sinner. I shall be glad to hear again from you. Break off all inti- macy with those that would lead you astray. The companion of fools shall be destroyed. Seriously study our Lord's discourse to Nicodemus, John iii. — I remain your sincere friend, A. P. To Mrs. L of F- Cherrybank, 1833. My Dear Friend — I have been told that you have got a twitch of the common rod which has been travel- ling through the land. The stroke has been pretty smart on several individuals ; it gently touched us in this family also ; and why not ? Our heavenly Father best knows what rod to use, and when to lay it on. Such as have committed their all, for time and eter- nity, to Israel's faithful Shepherd, may well leave such matters in his kind and faithful hand. He has graciously supported you these many years, and even kept you from sinking when waves and billows were passing '232 LETTERS. over you. O, let us trust him still ! Faith keeping- hold of the promise, and of God in the promise, will keep our hearts calm and quiet even in the dark and stormy night. " I had fainted," says David, " unless I had believed." I hope, through the Lord's goodness, your health is established, and that you are going on your way rejoicing in the Lord. You perhaps have heard that my only sister, Mrs. Riddel, has been called home about a month ago. She was favoured with a very quick and easy passage over Jordan. — only about twenty-four hours a little worse than ordinary. She was unable to speak much, but complained of little pain, and fell on sleep, I hope, in the bosom of the Beloved, in the close of her 88th year. This is a very loud call to me, now in my S2d year. I am trying daily to be on the outlook for the coming of my Lord ; and am sometimes helped to say, " Amen, even so come, Lord Jesus !" My stay cannot be long ; but I find my work more and more light and pleasant. I hope you do not forget me in your closet. If the Lord spare us to meet again when you return to town, I hope we will again cheer one another on the way to the Zion above. May the pre- sence of God abide on you and your worthy husband and niece; he blesses the habitation of the just; his mercv is round about them that fear him. I had no thought of saying so much at this time, but when Christian regard w r arms the heart we do not soon weary in talking to a dear friends — I ever am, my dear madam, yours in the bond of the gospel, A. P. LETTERS. 233 To the Same. Cherrybank, 1836. Mir Dear Madam — I only received a parcel of Jewish papers last Saturday, and embrace the first op- portunity of sending some of each kind to you. In sending this welcome messenger with good news from afar, concerning the doings of the Lord among his ancient Israel, I cannot suffer the messenger to go without asking you if your own soul be still prosper- ing ? O, my dear friend, it is good news to hear that the great Captain of salvation is on the field, leading forward the little bands of his servants with displayed banners, and gathering in the lost sheep in the various quarters of his world. Let us rejoice, that all whom his Father has given him shall come to him ; none of them shall be lost. I sometimes think what a goodly company there must be, and how supremely happy, when those of all nations are gathered before the throne of the Lamb, and sing together the song of triumph to that sovereign grace which brought them there. The work is going on iu our land, and in our own church, too, among the rest. I was visiting, yes- day, some families in the neighbourhood, and met with some plants among the young and the aged that seem to be growing and flourishing. This cheers my spirits. How have you stood the cold and wet of the season ? It has been rather an unfavourable summer ; but what shall we say ? an infinitely wise and good God orders all in the best way. There is a good crop on the ground, and a good deal safe in the stack. Much is yet exposed ; but we should live by faith even as to x2 234 LETTERS. temporal things. On the top of the Ochils you are somewhat nearer the clouds than we in the valley ; but few possess, as I hope we do, that eye which can look beyond the visible heavens, and sometimes get a peep within the vail through the telescope of the pro- mises ; we may see the King of grace and glory on his majestic throne, and hear him saying, " Be careful for nothing, but in every thing by prayer and suppli- cation, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God." It is very pleasant to know that we have a Father in heaven who knows all our wants and woes ; and yet he condescends to hear his poor children tell him of them at his footstool. He is too high, too holy, too independent, to be governed by any thing we can say at his footstool ; yet he is so kind, so condescending, so compassionate, as to regard the prayers of his poor children. He may, in paternal kindness, deny us the very thing which we ask, but he will always give what is good ; and, O ! what debtors we are to his boundless generosity ! I hope, my dear Christian friend, we often meet at the King's throne. This is a mode of fellowship which friends in Christ can only enjoy. My heart's desire for you all is, that you may flourish in the Lord's vine- yard. The Lord is again visiting our guilty land with a merciful change of weather: O that the inhabitants would praise him ! Let us remember one another at the footstool of mercy. May your soul be fed under the ministry of good Mr. L — e ! — Ever yours, A. P. LETTERS. 135 To the Same. Cherry bank, 1837. My very Dear Friend — Mr. L called yester- day and informed me of your very dangerous fall, the detail of which, affected me very considerably. He told me also that you had been most mercifully pre- served, having sustained comparatively but slight in- jury. Davids words in the xciv. Psalm came in view, " I said, my foot slippeth ; but thy mercy, O Lord, held me up." O, the wonderful care and kindness of our heavenly Father ! He directs all our goings with infinite wisdom and love. The very disasters and dangers we meet with in our way clearly show us the truth of that gracious saying, " The mercy of God is round about them that fear him." When we meet with trying steps in our way which we looked not for, he then shows us that his everlasting arms are under- neath us ; and O how sweet it is for a child of God to see and feel that promise made out, " Lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day." When the hand of creatures is not seen in our trials and deliverances, we are sweetly shut up to say, " It is the Lord : let him do what seemeth him good." We are sure that we need these monitors. Good Hezekiah said, after he had time to reflect on his former ways, on the sharp trial which the Lord had sent, and on his wonderful deliverance, " What shall I say ? He hath both spoken unto me, and himself hath done it." See Isa. xxxviii. 15, 16, 17. I most cordially join you in your song of thanksgiving to Him who preserved you in that hour of peril, and who, I trust, will complete the re- 236 LETTERS. covery. You have often had occasion to sing, u I was brought low, and the Lord helped me." You know that I feel deeply interested in you, and sometimes carry you with me to the throne of the King. We are to eat the Lord's Supper on Sabbath week : re- member us, my dear friend, and I hope the kind Lord of the feast will feed you with the fatness of his house, even in your closet and family duties. You must be a prisoner for some time — I hope not very long — and kept from ordinances ; but the Lord filleth every long- ing soul. I am, through the mercy of my bountiful Master, able to do a little on Sabbath, and am begin- ning visitation in the country. Let us never forget that cheering promise, " As thy day is, so shall thy strength be." Please to accept these few thoughts from a distant friend who has you on his heart. Leaving you in the kind hand of Jehovah-Rophi, — I ever am yours, A. P. To the Same. Cherrybank, 1838. My Dear Friend — For some weeks past you have been often in my mind; and my first inquiry is, How are your eyes keeping? This is only an infirmity in the flesh ; and it is good to have to say, that the gra- cious Lord who gave you your eyesight, has not only preserved it long, but enabled you to make good use of it, in consulting the book of God and other valuable helps. May he be pleased to allow you the use of this precious faculty a little longer, if it be his holy will. LETTERS. 237 But, dear madam, take courage; the eye of faitb, seated in the renewed heart, shall never be totally darkened. It may be occasionally much bedimmed by dark dispensations — by the veil of unbelief, or by the temptations of our great enemy ; but a new glimpse of the King's face will dispel all clouds, and turn the sha- dow of death into the morning. You have often had experience of this ; and you may confidently trust the faithful promise, " I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice." When men say there is a casting down, the Lord often says there shall be a lifting up ; and he will save the humble soul. I suspect that, owing to the cold and wet summer, you would have several silent Sabbaths, in your feeble state of bodily health ; but even this great privation is often amply made up by closet visits from our Father in heaven. He can make streams in the desert, to give drink to his weary pil- grim. We need only the lively exercise of faith to enable us to hold on our way rejoicing. Fear not, only believe, was our Lord's direction to a very distressed petitioner. He said, to a weeping disciple, " If thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God." Our blessed Master put all these, and similar sayings of his, on sacred record, because he knew that his chil- dren, in after ages, would need these important direc- tions in time of trouble. You, I suppose, have seen the account of the terrible wreck of the Hull steamer. It has caused a very ge- neral sensation here, as well as elsewhere. When you look back upon your sore trial, and compare it with the bereaved widows and fatherless, who are mourning over their relations, buried in a watery grave, amidst 238 LETTERS. all the horrors of a tempest, what reason have you to say, that no strange thing happened unto you, but such as is common to man. It seems a gospel minister was among the victims. What shall we say ? " The Lord is just in all his ways, and holy in all his works." O may the eighteen survivors lay it to heart ! That the Lord himself may give you all more and more grace, with joy and peace in believing, is the prayer of your ever-loving friend and fellow-traveller Zionward, A. P. To the Rev. R— C— of D— . Cherrybank, 1836. Mv Dear Brother — Through different mediums, I frequently hear of Mrs. C — and your family. The report, I hope, excites not only the emotions of friendly sympathy, but sends us sometimes to our Father's throne on your account ; and especially for supporting, sanctifying, and comforting communications to your afflicted bosom friend. Tell her, as you no doubt often do, that the Christian's heaviest trials are only light in comparison with the exceeding great and eternal weight of glory in reserve within the vail. I trust she has long ago fixed her anchor there, and thus she will have that hope which maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in her heart by the Holy Ghost given to her. The kind Redeemer knows all those who love and trust him. He may try them — he will do it ; but he writes Isa. xli. 10, on the door of the furnace as they enter, and he whispers as they proceed, " My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made LETTERS. 239 perfect in weakness." Should death be in the cup, I have no doubt that our gracious Lord will make good his farewell promise to her, — John xiv. 1-3. And, O, how much better is it for the child of God to depart and be with Christ, than stay in this sinful and polluted world. " Ah," may you say, " it is an easy thing for you to speak thus, when the trial is not your own." I own, dear brother, this makes a great difference in our present circumstances; but you know that, fifteen years ago, the Lord called me to give up my hold of one of the most endearing bosom friends ; and the delightful hope that she went home to our Father's house above, to the bosom of her everlasting Husband, when she was made ready for the happy change, in a great mea- sure quieted my agitated spirit, and brought me to bow to his holy disposal. The Lord has been for some time warning you of what seems to be approaching ; and I hope you are brought to stand and look on, saying, " Good is the will of the Lord." The kind Master whom we serve — poorly serve — condescends to assure us, " that he will not leave us nor forsake us." Let us try to take up the cross and sing, " God lives : blessed be my rock; the God of my salvation be exalted." It seems your brother is also with you in a drooping state. Deep called unto deep in David's case, yet he was ena- bled to say, " Why art thou cast down, O my soul? Hope in God. I shall yet praise him. — As thy day is, so shall thy strength be." You know who says, " Be still and know that I am God." I desire to meet you at our Father's throne, supplicating mercy for the suf- ferers in your family, and for ourselves, that the shadow of death may be turned into a morning of joy to us all. 240 LETTERS. Accept of my tender Christian sympathy, and believe me to be your loving brother in Christ, A. P. To the Rev. J — H — of A — . Cherrybaxk, August, 1837- My Dear Brother — I got the history of your journey to Kirriemuir, and your return from it : your heart was there, and you wished to serve and meet with our kind and gracious Master. The Lord, I hope, accepted the will for the deed. By late accounts, you seem to be a little convalescent ; your outward man weak, but your mind cool and somewhat collected, and, I hope, renewed day by day. Were I younger, the distance shorter, myself less engaged, and the meeting of Synod not so near, I might make an effort to see you in your confinement. We have been long fellow- travellers to the rest above — fellow-labourers in our Lord's vineyard — and have, occasionally, spent some pleasant hours in speaking together concerning the kingdom of God. We are both, I trust on the confines of Immanuel's land; should you arrive there first, you will be the first gainer of the prize ; but your success, instead of abating my joy, should, and I hope will, excite my thanksgiving to God for you, and also sti- mulate my hopes and exertions in finishing the small remainder of my pilgrimage course. You have served Christ near fifty years in your public ministry; and have been often telling saints and sinners that the only foundation on which they can safely rest for eternity- is Christ Jesus, the rock of ages. On this stable rock, LETTERS. 241 I have no doubt, you have long ago taken your own standing-, for life and death. Well, the billows of affliction — the winds of temptation — cannot move, nor eveu shake this foundation. But faith must daily keep its anchor-hold; and if so, the inhabitant of the rock may sing, " He hath made to me the everlasting cove- nant, ordered in all things and sure, and this is all my salvation and all my desire." This song can only be learned in the school of Christ — the Spirit himself is the teacher — and the first stanza is first uttered by the young convert in the morning of conversion. You and I have been long trying to school others in this heavenly melody ; but, alas ! with little success as to many. This we cannot help, though we should much deplore. But when we come to the closing scene of life, we will find it pleasant to reflect that these very truths, which were the marrow of our ministry, and the solace of our souls, in our great Master's service, must be the stay of our spirits in the bed of sickness and death. Paul was in a very happy frame of soul when he penned 2 Cor. v. To carry about the earthly house of this tabernacle near eighty years, groaning under the burden of sin, temptation, and sorrow, may well make the feeble groan for deliverance. But wait- ing and watching are as much our duty, as believing and hoping to the end. You have often, I dare say, reminded others " to gird up the loins of their minds, to be sober and hope to the end, for the grace that shall be brought to them at the revelation of Jesus Christ." I hope your mind is calm, your faith resting on the finished work of Christ, and your anchor of hope fixed on that within the vail. Well, I shall only add 242 LETTERS. the remarkable words of the Apostle, 1 Pet. v. 10, — " But the God of all grace, who called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, strengthen, stablish, settle you." Amen, amen! Please tell Mr. J — to write me particularly how you are in body and mind. The great and gracious Physician abide with you as your great Comforter ! — I ever am your sympathizing bro- ther in Christ, A. P. To a Friend. Perth, 1828. My Dear Friend — The last time I visited you, I felt a wish to have some friendly and confidential con- versation with you concerning matters of eternal moment, but, by one occurrence or other, the time passed by, and the opportunity was lost. I came away with the settled determination of writing you ; and you may now say, Why so tardy in fulfilling your resolution ? I will honestly confess that the thought has often since crossed my mind, but this morning it took such hold of me that I could no longer procrasti- nate. Now, my dear friend, I propose to enter into no argument with you, but merely to expostulate with you, as an old friend, who soon must dip his foot in the Jordan. I hope you will not think me obtrusive in earnestly soliciting your serious attention to the things which concern your eternal peace. The Bible tells us, and our own conscience often whispers the same solemn truth, that we must soon appear at the tribunal of Christ, to give in our account LETTERS. 243 of the deeds done in the body, whether they be good or bad. The thought is awfully solemn and interest- ing. One of the most holy men that ever lived said, in viewing this subject, " If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquities, who shall stand?'* The great Judge is omniscient, and knows our inmost thoughts, — he is essentially righteous, and will by no means clear the guilty. The great question then is, How may a poor sinner, covered with guilt and defilement, appear before the glorious Judge with safety and acceptance ? Blessed be God that we are not left like poor heathens to grope in the dark as to this great and vital point. The blessed Bible at once directs the inquiring sinner to the compassionate Saviour — to his meritorious blood —his efficacious grace — as infinitely able and sufficient to save to the uttermost. But then this blood must be applied to the soul by the Spirit. Christ and his perfect righteousness must be received by faith, in order that we may have a personal interest in him. It is the established order of grace that every sinner to be saved must be born again, — he must believe the gospel report concerning Christ and salvation as God's testimony to him in particular. He that believeth shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be con- demned. I am persuaded you know all these things — you are a reader, and have a considerable portion of knowledge; but something more, my dear friend, a great deal more is needed than mere speculative knowledge. Consider the meaning of the Apostle's doctrine, — 2 Cor. iv. 1-6. The understanding must not only perceive the truth, but the light of the know- ledge of the glory of God, as it shines in the face, or 244 LETTERS. person, and work of Christ Jesus, must shine into the heart, and so gain the free consent of the will and affections, that the man accepts of Christ and his sal- vation, and gives up the love and practice of all known sin. This is the true evidence that we are believers indeed. Now, put the questions — O put them seriously to your own heart — Have I been really awakened out of my natural security ? have I seen and felt my own wretchedness and misery as a guilty and defiled sinner before the heart-searching God? have I been enabled to cast myself at the Saviour's feet, and cry, " Lord, save me, I perish"? have I said amen to the offers of mercy proclaimed in the gospel to the chief of sinners ? have I made this choice for eternity? and do I show that I have made it, by departing from all iniquity, and walking in the paths of Christian holiness ? These are inquiries of infinite moment, and you cannot have solid peace in your mind until they are affirmatively settled. You must remember how near eternity you were brought by a fall from your horse some time ago. The thought has surely crossed your mind, Where would my eternal destiny have been had I then died ? Would I have been admitted among the happy com- pany of the redeemed around the throne of the Lamb ? or would I have been consigned to everlasting burn- ing? Men may amuse themselves as they will in speculating about religious truths ; but unless these truths come home to the heart, obtain the consent and acceptance of the soul, and be an active principle of holiness in the life, they produce no saving fruits. I suggest these few hints to you from a pure con- LETTERS. 245 cern for your best interests. You will naturally sup- pose that they intimate a deep suspicion that all may not stand aright between God and you. I do not deny that it is so. You have many amiable qualities ; but if the one thing needful be wanting, all is wanting which can comfort you when you come to grapple with the king of terrors. If you will condescend to open your mind freely to me in answer to this letter, or if you would come and spend some time with me, it would make me very happy. I commit you and your best interests into the hana of God, and pray that you may take all this in gooc part — I ever am yours, sincerely desirous of your sal- vation, A. P. To the Same. Perth, 1N28. My Dear Friend — Your favour came in course I respect your honesty in avowing yourself a doubter, when an inward monitor tells you that such is the state of your mind. But O, my friend, why is it thus with you ? Is it from a defect of evidence in the glorious doctrines of revelation ? or is it from a defect in your own moral vision ? You remember that cer- tain characters came to our Lord, when on earth, say- ing, " How long dost thou make us to doubt ?" What a strange, and groundless, and wicked complaint ! Had they not the most abundant and striking evidence every day before their eyes, that Jesus was the Christ — the promised Messiah ? What kept them from see- y2 -46 LETTERS. ing this great fact? Ah! it was something within — the enmity, the carnality, the prejudices, the prepos- sessions of their own hearts. If you examine well, you will find that the cause of hesitation lodges within you. That there are profound mysteries in the word of God, which finite intellect cannot fully fathom, I ad- mit ; but if there were nothing such in a revelation from the infinite God, could we believe it to be di- vine? Infidels affirm that there are contradictions in the word of God, but this objection of theirs we totally deny; nay, it has been a hundred times refuted. There are a multitude of facts in nature which no philosopher can explain ; and can we suppose that there should be none in revelation ? But the shortest way of coming to a point here is, by looking at yourself as a poor guilty sinner, in the presence of that God whom you admit to be holy and just. Take a close view of your many trangressions against his holy law ; consider how you can answer to him even for one of the many thousands of your offences. Delude not yourself with the idea, that, because he is a God of mercy, he will not be strict in marking your iniquities. He is indeed a God of mercy ; but he is also a God of justice, who cannot pardon sin without a satisfaction to his justice. Where is this satisfaction to be found except in the atoning sacrifice of Christ? Look at your case, and you will see that the provision made in Jesus Christ is exactly suited to it. If you are brought to take up your rest on this foundation for eternity — to rest in him — yo u shall assuredly find peace in your soul ; wliile such a delight in holiness and hatred of sin will spring up within you as will enable you to perceive at once LETTERS. 247 the truth and the excellence of the Christian revela- tion. May the spirit of all grace savingly illuminate your mind, and lead you into all truth ! — I ever am your loving friend, A. P. To the Author's Nephew, Mr. R- Perth, 1838. My Dear R — If H — were only half the distance from Perth I might make an effort, but, considering my advanced age, I can never again expect to visit the place of my nativity. I was sorry to learn that both your sisters, M — and C — , were so poorly. I learned from Mr. R — that they are pretty severely tried. Tell them, from me, that when I was, some time ago, brought to the brink of the grave, I called in to my help a Physician who can heal all manner of sick- ness and disease. He came, and gave me a sweet medicine which powerfully effected my cure. He is still alive, and is saying to them, " Call on me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee." I cannot as- sure them that he will deliver from bodily trouble; but he can deliver from the mental disease of sin, which is preying on the soul of every unconverted sinner; and if this disease be brought under healing the soul will be safe, come what may. I hope and pray they may take this happy course, for their present comfort and their future and eternal felicity. If the Divine Spirit enable them to do so, they will never perish : for them to live will be Christ, and to die will be gain. Good Mary, in the Gospels, made choice of the one thing needful, the better part, 248 LETTERS. which should not be taken from her. It will rejoice ray heart to hear that my dear friends have made the same choice. Many are disposed to wonder at the measure of health and vigour which God is continuing to me. I am daily trying to bless him for it. But the recollection of the lost days and neglected opportunities which pass- ed over me in my youth often presses sore on my mind. I often try to put up David's prayer, — Psal. xxv. 6, 7. I am also often trying the exercise of the two disciples at Emmaus : they constrained the Lord to abide with them, saying, " The day is far spent, and the night is at hand." You have no doubt been informed of the death of your cousin, Thomas Pringle. I had two letters from him in the time of his distress. He spake, or wrote, like one savingly acquainted with the great Saviour of sinners, lying at the foot of the cross, and depending on his great atonement as the only ground of his hope for eternity. He was a very kind, warm-hearted friend, had a well-stored understanding, and a cultivated taste. His writings, both in verse and prose, do him great credit, and will embalm his memory even to those who had no personal acquaintance with him. But his ex- traordinary exertions for the emancipation of the slaves in our Colonies will associate his name with some of the greatest friends of the human race. He, I believe, fell a victim to his exertions in the cause of the Afri- cans. He has finished his useful life in this world, and is gone, I hope, to reap the fruits of his labours, in that world where sin, and sorrow, and death, cannot enter. Farewell, my dear nephew ! 0, neglect me not at the throne ! — Yours, A. P. LETTERS. 249 To Mrs. M — Perth, 30th October, 1824. My Dear Madam — Mr. H *s letter of the 27th instant brought us the distressing intelligence of Alex- ander's departure to the other, and, I hope, better world. It struck us all with deep concern. Our warmest feelings flowed out toward all the family, and especially towards you. I know well how a parent's heart beats on such trying occasions. But there js no solid relief to be got except by lying down under the shadow of the throne, and crying, " Father, thy will be done ! " We obtain all our comforts from the Lord, and should cheerfully surrender them when he recalls them. I know how our proud, selfish, and carnal hearts wince and kick at such dispensations ; but if faith be in proper exercise, it will take the bitter cup, and say, " It is the Lord, let him do as seemeth him good." Good Hannah was a very grieved person, and weeped bitterly; but she took the proper course to obtain comfort. She went to the sanctuary to God himself — she met with the High Priest — she obtained his blessing, and got a comfortable answer to her prayers. Take the same course, dear madam, and you shall have similar success. She asked a son from the Lord, and she got him, and lent him to the Lord. You got this your son from the Lord long ago — many years ago — you have often, I have no doubt, given him to the Lord, and now the sovereign Lord has taken him, I hope, to himself, and is saying to you, Go in peace, and be no more of a sad countenance. The way in which he has taken him — the time and 250 LETTERS, other circumstances — were all wisely ordered in his eternal counsels. A watery grave is just as good as an earthly one to them that sleep in Jesus. The sea must surrender its dead at the coming of our Lord as well as the church-yards. None of Christ's members will be amissing on that day. Such premature deaths (as we commonly but incorrectly speak) should put all on the outlook, especially us parents, who see those we have nursed and fondled plucked away before our eyes. What think you of the kindness of God, in sparing so many of your young family, and placing them around you, to be your comfort and your stay in advancing years. We often count more on one trial than on a thousand mercies. This is our sin, and should be guarded against. When the heart is filled with the love of Christ, worldly losses will be more easily sus- tained. The Lord allowed the sisters at Bethany to weep for Lazarus, but he was grieved at their unbelief and excessive sorrow. You and family have a deep interest in our sympathy and prayers. We salute you all in the gracious words of Him who comforts them that are cast down, saying, " Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you : not as the world giveth, give I unto you : let not your hearts be troubled, nei- ther let them be afraid." Pray accept of our kindest salutations and sympathy. Remember us affectionately to all friends. — I ever am, my dear Madam, your af- fectionate and sympathizing friend, A. P. LETTERS. 251 [The Letters which follow were not found by Dr. Pringle's family till after the foregoing were nearly through the press, else their place in the series would have been much earlier. They were written to a Cousin in the south of Scotland, some of them before, and the rest soon after, he commenced his fixed ministry ; and the reader will find in them pleasing evidence that even then, when his years were comparatively few, his heart was rich in Christian experience.] Jan. 9, 1770'. My Dear Cousin — I have, indeed, transgressed the law of friendship; bat my fault rather flowed from necessity than choice. Since I came here, you have often, often been in my mind, and as often I have re- solved to write you ; but some intervening accident has, till now, hindered me. I was very much surprised by meeting W— B — , the other day, in coming from the class. The rogue promised to come to dinner, but beguiled me. Yesterday a most alarming accident occurred at Leith. A sea captain, walking on the shore, slipped his foot, fell into the water, and was drowned. The fact is certain, and its language loud : " Be ye also i;eady ; for ye know not at what hour the Son of Man cometh." Death's grim summons we must obey, for there is no discharge in that war. O, my dear cousin, what is of so great importance as to die in Christ ? This is the one great end of life itself, the chief design of God in trying providences, and the direct tendency of the gospel. If we improve not time for eternity, we are the worst of murderers. It is an important 252 LETTERS. inquiry, How may time be so improved as not to sting the conscience when death arrests? This, I think, is answered in few words, by Solomon's pressing exhor- tation : " Do, whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, with all thy might." When a person is conscientious in the performance of every commanded duty, and dedicates all his actions, and the all of his actions, to God's glory, then he may be said to live to purpose ; but especially when he is assiduous about the great work of his own salvation, and proceeds in it, as it were, with fear and trembling. " This," says Christ, when reasoning with the Jews, " is the work of God, that ye believe on his Son whom he hath sent." Just as if God required no other work at our hands but to believe. Indeed, what- ever we do besides, if a life of faith is not our main employment — if we do not every thing in the exercise of faith — our strength is spent in vain, and our labour for that which doth not satisfy. We spend time in our lawful callings — we trifle it away in religious du- ties — nay, we abuse it egregiously eating and drinking — while we overlook this great end, and suffer eternity to slip out of our mind. But who can say he is clean, and plead innocent of the great transgression? We are verily guilty concern- ing this thing. However, my dear friend, our glass is not yet empty : let us redeem our time, and, as it were, buy back our lost opportunities, by doubling our dili- gence for the time to come. Eternity is posting upon us ; time is flying apace ; and woe, woe to us, if our time ends before our tasks ! This causes many to lie down in sorrow, who might have gone singing to Im- manuel's land. Oh, the ghost of murdered time ! It LETTERS. 253 pierces through with many bitter reflections on the improvement we have made of it. These are suitable subjects of reflection on the return of another season. What may animate us to think of them is, the frequent surprises that many are meeting with from the king of terrors. Oh, time ! how earnestly it is desired by a dying sinner ! That we may not be found laying up this precious talent in a napkin is, and shall be, the daily prayer of, dear cousin, your true soul-friend, A. P. To the Same. 16th Oct. 1776. My very Dear Cousin — A sense of my many obli- gations to you obliges me to break through every ob- stacle to send you a few lines. When in health, my situation was such as made it inconvenient to be re- gular in my returns to a dear friend whom I value so highly; but, for some weeks past, it has been out of my power, through bodily indisposition, which, in the Lord's kindness, is now removed. Although I ex- pect to see you soon, yet I must pay you a previous visit on paper, in return for your anxious care about me in my affliction, for which I shall always feel grate- ful. To spend time in giving you an account of my bodily trouble would be of little avail ; but let me re- hearse the mighty acts of the Lord, and tell of his wondrous loving kindness. But here I may well use the words of the Psalmist, — u Many, O Lord, my God, are thy wonderful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts which are to us ward : they cannot z •254 LETTERS. be reckoned up in order unto thee . if I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be num- bered." Yet I may venture to say, that if I can be sure of any thing I am certain of this, that what proved affliction to my body was the means of comfort to my soul. I think I never enjoyed greater peace of mind, nor more scripture comfort and reconciliation to any dispensation, than on the occasion of which I speak. O, it is easy going through the hottest furnance when the violence of the flames are quenched by the waters of spiritual consolation ! Far, far better to be in the sorest affliction with the smiles of divine love, than to wallow in the greatest worldly prosperity without them. What is all without God ? Utter emptiness ! O, to enjoy God in all, and all in God ! This is the true Christian's prayer ; this his portion. But the best are apt to lose sight of their portion, and fall a nestling upon the creature. There is nothing so well fitted to blast sensual, carnal affections, as the nipping wind of adversity ; and this is often the Lord's method of pro- cedure with his people in restoring his own work in their hearts. He brings them into the wilderness, and there speaks comfort to them. O, no matter what be the tenor of God's dealings with us, if they issue in the purging away of all our dross, and the taking away of all our tin. God always corrects us for our profit, * that we may be partakers of his holiness. Now, my dear friend, I am in necessity shut up to say, Amen ; and I have been very free, but I know it is to one who understands the meaning of Christian experience, and will make no bad use of what I have, perhaps, too plainly expressed. Yet, after all, there LETTERS. 255 is no room for boasting, or resting on any thing re- ceived — O, no ! It will soon become a withered gourd if put in the place of precious Christ. I only mean to give you an opportunity of praising the Father of mer- cies, and the God of consolation, on my behalf. — Pray for me, your loving cousin and heart's friend, A. P. To the Same. January 20, 1777. My Dear Friend — And so the Lord has been giv- ing you an opportunity of adopting the submissive language of a first-rate saint, " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord." A lively picture this of worldly happiness ! always fleeting, never fixed, a delusive shadow, that may please in the idea, and then dwindle into nothing. A gracious God has been experimentally teaching you the truth of this observation in the death of your little child — a promising, lovely boy, whom you now see that you could not enjoy ! Why, my dear cousin, the dispensation is heavy, but not singular ; our heavenly Father transplants many very tender flowers into the heavenly paradise before even their blossom is seen in the world. They scarcely appear above ground when they are suddenly cropt and brought home to glory, to enjoy the residue of their days in Immanuel's land. And is not this a good change ? No doubt, the loss of promising children is a heavy trial to an affectionate parent ; but, cousin, there is hope in this death ; not but that children are guilty in their federal head, and, 256 LETTERS. by nature, deserve wrath as well as adults ; yet God lias been graciously pleased to take the children of be- lieving parents into the same covenant with them- selves ; and when they die in infancy they die in that covenant, having never uncovenanted themselves by actual sinning. This I think a strong ground of con- solation to all parents in my friend's situation. Though it does not amount to certainty, yet I think it goes the length of probability about their salvation. You cer- tainly put a very proper construction upon the dispen- sation, when you view it as a check for your security, and, perhaps, for your idolatry. When we begin to dote upon any earthly comfort, it is just with God to blast it to us, or take it from us. This was certainly one lesson that good old Jacob might have learnt from God's way with him. He was dotingly fond of his beloved Joseph ; but God, in his provi- dence, wrote a blank upon that enjoyment, and Joseph became as dead to his over-fond father till the very close of his days. Again, my dear friend, the security which prevailed when your trial was sent was no singu- lar case ; it has often, often been the way of God with his dearest children, to bring them to a sense of duty by some sharp rod upon their person or family. This was the course he took with a secure, backsliding church, — Hos. v. 15. There are three things that should reconcile the believer to crosses and trials : — they tend mightily, through God's blessing, to pro- mote a life of holiness ; they sweeten heaven to the child of God ; and they supply the Christian with a store of scripture experience, which will be as the beginning of glory to his soul. Were it not for LETTERS. -J57 those dispensations* much of the Bible would he a mere blank ; for the Spirit of God, who has indited it, has framed the whole, as it were, to speak consola- tion to the afflicted saint. Scarcely can we turn over a leaf but some comforting cordial meets our view for faith to draw out of these wells of salvation. This should keep us humble in prosperity, and comfort us in adversity. That this may be your attainment un- der your present trial, is the prayer of your friend in heart, A. P. To the Same. 6th Oct. 1777. My Dearest Cousin — Suspect not my lasting friendship, though, perhaps, my epistolary returns should not be so very punctual. I know in my own heart what place you hold there : a friend — a cousin nay more, a fellow-traveller Zion-ward, who, I hope, shall, by and bye, string her harp along with mine in concert with the nations of them that are saved. This is the chief relation in which I view you; and this constitutes a nearer connection than earthly affection, friendship, or blood. What so nearly related as the members of the same body? and this all believers are, — 1 Cor. xii. 13-27. The same spirit dwells in all Christians, and will, in some measure, stir up to love the members as well as the head. This is a cement stronger than any earthly relation, — even life itself. Death shall not separate, but consummate it. What my dear friend laments over in her case is not peculiar to her, but alas ! too, too general in these days of z2 258 LETTERS. darkness and treading down. Perhaps the power of godliness was never at a lower ebb, nor zeal for Christ and his cause less discovered. The parable of the ten virgins may, with the greatest propriety, be applied to this generation. Are not the best in a midnight slum- ber? God is visibly departing from us, and yet the ancient complaint holds true, " none stirreth up himself to take hold of me ; " as if God had said, " Though I am gone just to the threshold, yet my professed people are so insensible of my departure, that there is scarcely any desiring me to return; for none stirreth himself from his spiritual slumber to prevent me from going alto- gether ." I have no doubt but the Lord has a numerous seed, even in our day of grievous defection ; but they are so much mingled with the heathen, that they have learned of them their way. Matters are come to so sad a pass with us, that there seems to be a necessity for sifting times, and, by all appearance, the stroke of judgment will fall heavy upon lukewarm professors. So much dross is mixed with the good metal, that nothing but fire will separate them. No doubt the metal will stand the proof, but the trial may be very severe. The Lord fit us for the day of his hot anger ! I cannot say, my dear friend, but I have met with very much undeserved pity since I moved in a public sphere of life. My charges have been liberally borne by my gracious Master. I think I never enjoyed more pleasure in any stage of life than I do in the work of Christ. No doubt the work is very arduous, but the promise is extensive — " As thy day is, so shall thy strength be " — and if our weakness for duty gives occasion for the display of di- vine strength, we should rejoice and be exceeding glad. LETTERS. 259 This was the great Paul's exercise : yes, says he — " I will glory in mine infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest on me." I repeat my former petition for your interest and entreaties at a throne of grace. — I am, with the greatest complacency, yours affectionately, A. P. To the Same. 1779, July 13. My Dear Cousin — I had your kind letter some time ago, expected it long before it came, and was much de- lighted with it when it arrived. But I must tell you honestly, if you go on in this way of panegyrizing (permit the odd-like word), I will give over writing altogether; for you, my dear friend, speak in such terms of my trifling letters, that I really am ashamed to write unless I have something of importance to com- municate, that may some way answer your expecta- tions. But lower your ideas of my correspondence, and I will write more freely, and now and then tell you what is going on. I heartily wish my dear cousin's exercise, with all its imperfections, were more general among professors than it is. You complain of disordered affections, faint desires, strong corruptions, languishing graces, and what not. Well, you will see a striking picture of your heart in Paul's experience, — Rom. vii. — and a blessed resemblance between you. I call it a blessed resemblance ; because, in my opinion, there cannot be a better evidence of a gracious state than a lively and affecting sense of the workings of remaining 260 LETTERS. corruptions. To groan under the crushing weight of a body of sin and death is a certain sign of spiritual life and motion. Be not discouraged ; the first fruits are a sure pledge of the full harvest — the begun victory will issue in a complete and eternal triumph. I think your sister, N — , intends matrimony, and I know she has good sense to direct her in this matter in making a proper choice ; and I can assure her, from expe- rience, that, to those who are equally yoked, marriage is the crown of worldly happiness. Pray, tell her this from me. May I ever expect the pleasure of seeing you under my roof? I can promise you a kind landlady when you come. Write me as to this. Love to all friends. In haste. — Ever yours, A. P. To the Same. 1779. My Dear Cousin — The Lord's wavs are often in m the deeps, and his paths in the mighty waters ; but in every case, we may say, he is a rock, and his work is perfect. Though clouds and darkness are round about him, yet justice and judgment are the habitation of his throne. You have been trysted with personal and fa- mily trials, but you can say, " He does all things well !" Is not he kind even when he smites, and compassionate in all his corrections? Whom he loves, he rebukes and chastens. What although the potion is somewhat bitter? a Father's hand compounded it, and a Father's blessing is in it ; and, therefore, we should always say, " The cup which my Father giveth me to drink, shall I LETTERS. 261 not drink it?'' Dear cousin, the Father of mercies knows well how to sweeten a bitter cup, and how to make a heavy rod produce the precious fruits of righteousness, peace, and comfort; as says the poet, 11 Even crosses from his sovereign hand are blessings in disguise." Observe, dear friend, the sovereignty of God, and the profound deeps of his providence : your- self was brought to the grave's mouth, as if to see the burial of your sweet little infant. The Lord was show- ing you that he might have directed the blow at the root, though, for this time, it has only alighted upon the branch. The tender-hearted mother was brought to the brink of Jordan, to see her lovely child go through before her; and can we say this was hard usage ? No : the dispensation was full of love ! You are thus taught, from experience, that, you yourself must soon bid farewell to all sublunary comforts. Death came so near, that you had almost taken your last adieu, and left a disconsolate husband, and your helpless children, to be tossed in the storm of worldly vicissitudes. But the Father of mercies thought not so : the afflicted parent is spared and recovered, and the healthy, promising child is taken. Adore a sove- reign God ! The child was God's lend, and you enjoy- ed him three years ; and why should we complain when he only recalls his own ? Have we any right to quarrel with a person for plucking a flower in his own garden ? How much less the Proprietor of all ! What though the broken cisterns of earthly comforts run dry, while the Fountain is, and will be, eternally undiminished. What we have in the creature, we have in infinitely greater perfection in the Creator, and this should silence '262 LETTERS. us. We were much disappointed in not seeing* you in Perth ; but you had too good reason for returning home. I am truly sorry to understand that my dear mother has been poorly. Tell me candidly if you think her case any way dangerous, and I will leave every thing to pay her a visit ; but I will hope the best. Let me know immediately. — I remain your sympathizing cou- sin, A. P. To the Same. January 31st, 1780. My Dear Cousin — I have been too long in your debt; but I know you will make allowance for my many engagements, and pardon my seeming neglect. In your last, as usual, you dwell on the plaintive strain. This is the more common, but, I apprehend, the least becoming part of Christian exercise. In this imperfect, sinful, suffering state, I own the child of God will have frequent occasion for dropping the tear of sorrow; but to dwell always on this is to hinder the work of grace, to embolden unbelief, and to dis- hearten the believer. A cheerful spirit, says Solomon, does good like a medicine ; and praise is comely for the righteous, says the holy Psalmist: yes, and he resolved to persist in this exercise as long as he had any being. It is very remarkable that the scripture is full of encomiums upon, and exhortations to, the exer- cise of praise, just because the Spirit of God foresaw how backward the sons of men, and even the ungrate- ful children of God, would be to this heavenly exercise. letters. :263 The common reply of the disconsolate Christian is, Alas, my wicked and deceitful heart — my disordered, dead, and lifeless exercise — my weak and languishing graces (if I have any) — and my strong and turbulent corruptions — all set before me such a gloomy prospect, that I cannot but complain 1 The pretext is, indeed, plausible ; but it is not solid. Is the above case yours or mine? Then, let us rejoice, it is not quite hope- less ; the remedy is provided, the cure is at hand ; there is balm in Gilead, and a physician there. Why then, in sullen discontent, dwell on the dark and dis- mal case ? Is it not more pleasant and profitable to sing with Habakkuk, " Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." O, my dear friend, if we had more faith we would have more joy and comfort, for there is a joy and peace in believing which neither outward fightings nor inward fears can prevent or take away. Grace and peace be with you and your family ! — I ever am yours in the Lord, A. P. To the Same. October 12th, 1790. My Dear Cousin — I cannot let the bearer go with- out acknowledging your two last favours, as this would not be consistent with friendship, gratitude, or dutv. I rejoice to see you are trying to join in the church's 264 LETTERS. song: " I will sing of mercy and of judgment." The Lord is giving you occasion for both. You are no worse treated, I should rather say you are as well treated, as the other members of our Father's family. They that have gone before us had to go through fires and waters — those that are on the way are treading in the same paths — and can we expect, or should we desire, to be conducted to our Father's house by a separate road ; nay, by a road quite different from that which our dear Lord and elder Brother trod? No, no ; it would neither be for our interest nor our comfort. I see you are not disposed to com- plain of your personal or family trials, at least you are striving against all hard thoughts of a correct- ing Father ; but you are still complaining much of a dead frame — of a carnal heart — of little progress in sanetification. Continue to complain. Had you no fault to find on this score, I should think a great deal worse both of your frame and exercise. Only there is an unavailing, an unprofitable kind of complaining that even saints often fall into, — a complaining when the heart is not deeply affected, — a complaining more to men than to God at the throne, — a complaining more than is meet. Bad habits are very easily contracted, and, when contracted, it is very difficult to lay them aside. It is so in the spiritual as well as in common life. I have often found saints grieved for that which was their mercy, and sighing when they should have been singing. I do not say this is your case alto- gether — I hope not. But one thing I am sure of — to feel the workings of corruption so as to mourn over them, to be enabled to pray, and watch, and fight LETTERS. 265 against them, is good exercise, and bespeaks a lively frame. But I presume your greatest trial is, that you feel sin strong and often prevailing, and yet you can- not war, nor watch, nor pray against it, nor mourn over it a9 you would and should. Alas, my dear cousin, you have many, many fellows. I am sure I may join you in this complaint. But to whom can we go? Our Lord will give final victory in a little. The triumph of our spiritual enemies shall be short. Though the child of God fall, he shall rise ; though he sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light unto him; though he for a long time walk in the midst of trouble, the Lord will revive him — he will stretch forth his hand against the wrath of his enemies, and his right hand will save him. Let us try to take Eliphaz's counsel to Job : u I would seek unto God, and unto God would I commit my cause ; which doeth great things and unsearchable; marvellous things without number : who giveth rain upon the earth, and sendeth waters upon the fields : to set up on high those that be # low ; that those which mourn may be exalted to safety." — I am sincerely yours, A. P. PERTH: — PRINTED J1Y WILLIAM RELFORD. >