most excruciating pains, and in uninterrupted anticipations of eternal triumph through a protracted struggle with the king of terrors. Many single expressions of dying saints might be mentioned, equal to any that dropped from the lips of Risdon Darracott. His biographer is at this moment indeed reminded of a valued friend, George Moir, of Aberdeen, in whose house he once lived, and whose death was, like his life, an eminent display of the power of evangelical truth. After having been worn out by long and painful illness, his wife told him that the change of his countenance indicated the speedy approach of death. “Does it,” he replied, " bring me a glass.” On looking at himself in the glass, he was struck with the appearance of a corpse which he saw in his countenance, but giving the glass back, he said, with calm satisfaction, “Ah, death' has set his mark on my body, but Christ has set his mark upon my soul." To record this instance of holy triumph over death is too grateful to the writer's feelings, to suggest the necessity of an apology, and he is willing to hope that it may prove so welcome to the Christian reader as to induce him to say that it needs none. Mr. Darracott's death was a long continued scene of delights, which produced a mighty impression on all around. The wicked who heard were compelled to say, “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” But the righteous, exulted to see the happy consequences of a life devoted, as Risdon Darracott's had been, to the true end of living, the divine glory and the interests of eternity. They saw that if he was cut off in the midst of his days, which worldly prudence would have said were shortened by his excessive labours, it was by such a death as was itself the prelibation of the glory to which it conducted him, and was sufficient to induce us who most fondly cling to life to exclaim, “ to enjoy such an end, I would, this moment, gladly lie down and die."

While, indeed, many shrink from the incessant labours of the Christian ministry, and deem them aggravated by the scorn of the world, the censure of false professors, and an inadequate income; all who faithfully consecrate themselves to the work, from pure motives, find it sweetened with pleasures of the most exquisite relish, and, in the end, recompensed with honours and consolations to which the glories of the world are infamy and its delights bitterness.




From Mr. Jones, of St. Saviour's, Southwark, to

Mr. Darracott.

Castle-street, in the Park, Southwark,

March 21, 1758. Reverend and honoured sir, I Am ashamed to own I received your letter, because the very acknowledgment will accuse me of ill manners and ingratitude: to plead my multiplicity of business, and very frequent illness, would be but a poor excuse, and betray a very bad cause." Shall I then, relying on dear Mr. Darracott's indulgence, honestly own the truth? Two things have conspired to make me act thus rudely by my honoured correspondent. They are indolence and pride. The former of these makes me very averse to writing to any one, and the latter has hitherto prevented my answering yours. Indeed, dear sir, your letter quite disconcerted me; and finding how high (much too high) an opinion Mr. Darracott had entertained of me, I was really afraid to underceive him, and was very unwilling to convince him, by my letters, how much he was mistaken. A consciousness of my insufficiency made me wish to preserve Mr.: Darracott's esteem, and at the same time pot expose myself to so discerning a mind as his, but I have since found that my heart (as usual) has greatly deceived me; what I vainly thought was the effect of modesty, I now perceive to be rank, sinful pride, A desire to keep self unexposed has made me behave thus unhandsomely to an honoured fa. ther in Christ; and when I consider how many useful and instructive letters of dear Mr. Darra. cott's. I may have lost, I cannot but repent of my past misconduct. Having now confessed my crime, I already anticipate my honoured friend's forgiveness, and think myself assured of a recon. ciliation; in this confidence I will proceed, without farther apology for inability.

I think myself happy, dear sir, in the notice you take of me in your letter, and can only say, that if you would have me go forward, and wish to see me become an useful minister of the church of Christ, yourself, dear sir, (under God) must contribute to it by favouring me with your advice, from time to time, by giving me such instruction as you must be sensible I want, such as, I bumbly hope, I shall receive with thankfulness, and follow with pleasure. You see, sir, how I am drawing you into a frequent correspondence; let me hope to see it begun by a speedy answer to this, which, God willing, shall meet with as speedy and punctual a reply. O! how do I honour (I had almost said envy) Mr. Darracott his warmth of heart and glow of zeal, who can thus rejoice at the enlargement of the Mediator's kingdom, and with pleasure own his Master's image, though he finds it stamped on the coarsest subject! I can say that I have much to be thankful for to rich, sovereign grace: but, alas! so cold, so frozen, so lifeless, is my heart, that the vital heavenly flame which our dear Immanuel has kindled there is too, too often, almost extinguished. I want more zeal for God's glory! more love for precious souls. Another complaint I have to make is, that this cursed self will put in its claim for the honour of what the Mediator works in and by me.

These, dear sir, I can truly say are weights and clogs upon my mind. Think for me, pray for me, and give me some directions how to keep this fire alive, how to revive a dying zeal, how to lie low in my own esteem; in short, how to fly from self. I need not tell you what a real benefit you will be the instrument of conveying to me. i Thus, 'sir, you see I have cut out work for your next letter--let me expect it soon! You desire in yours to have the particulars of my success in the ministry, This, God willing, shall be the subject of my

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