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devil and my wicked heart; yet I think, by the hlessing of God, I feel I hate sin a thousand times worse than I hate a toad.

Hen. Well then father, we'll go on with the rest of it. Poor Mr. Chipman, a few days before his death, had strong fainting fits, and was entirely con: fined to his bed. After one of these fits he cried, " though my flesh and my heart faileth, yet God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for evermore." And when I observed that he appeared very faint, he directly answered, “For this cause I faint not; for though my outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.” And then again, after he had been discharging a deal of corruption from his lungs, and looking at his hands and arms, now worn away to mere skin and bones, he cried, "This corruptible shall put on incorruption; and this mortal sball put on immortality. Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written : Death is swallowed up in victory." I am sure that I have given up my precious soul into the hands of my dear Redeemer: and though I seem to feel myself the poorest sinner that ever lived, yet now through him I can sing, “O death! where is thy sting? O grave! where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin ; and the strength of sin is the law : but thanks be to God, that giveth us the victory through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Loveg. He seemed to be made of “a quick anderstanding in the fear of the Lord;" while his memory was preserved wonderfully retentive and correct.

Hen. Sir, he was always asking me to point him out those parts of Scripture, which I thought were most applicable to his state, as a dying man; and those chapters or psalms he would be perpetually reading, as long as he was able, while his poor head, through weakness, was tottering upon his shoulders all the time. He was particularly delighted with the gospel of St. John. I remember he once said,


" How little have I known till of late, what our blessed Savior could mean, by saying that he was "the bread of life," and “the living bread which came down from heaven;" but now it is explained to me by what our Lord said, He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me and I in him;" and,“ whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day;" and my soul can truly cry, “ Thy flesh is meat indeed, and thy blood is drink indeed." He was also peculiarly delighted with the fourteenth chapter, about our Lord's baving gone before to prepare many mansions for his people. And I remember while he was talking on that subject, with what a rapture he brought forward that text, “We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Then he repeated the first verse of a hymn I had frequently read to him, and with which he was wonderfully delighted.

Loveg. What was the hymn, Mr. Henry?

Henry. Jesus, thy blood and righteousness,

My beauties are, my glorious dress;
'Midst flaming worlds, in these array'd,
With joy shall I lift up my head.

Then he paused awhile and further added :

When from the dust of death I rise,
To take my mansions in the skies ;
Ev'n then shall this be all my plea,
Jesus hath liv'd, and dy'd for me.

Far. [To Henry.] But I thought my child, you told me he was most delighted at that hymn our minister put out, at the funeral of good old Edward Heaven, the Taylor: what a brave Christian for sure he was!

When we behold the heavenly state,
The rest that doth thy saints await !
What streams of comfort fill the soul,
What floods of bliss around us roll !

Above the world by faith we rise,
And taste the joys above the skies;
With angels feast, with angels join,
In hymns immortal and divine.

On wings of love still upwards borne,
Downward we look with holy scorn ;
The pains and pleasures of this life,
Afford us neither joy nor grief.

[The farmer hesitates]-There now, if I have not forgot how it goes on! I am afraid I am too near. a-kin to the old man, Master Bunyan calls Mr. Forget-good.

Hen. I think I can recollect them father; it is amazing what a heaven seemed to be upon Mr. Chipman's countenance, whenever he repeated them.

While we enjoy this blissful sight,
With hearts o'erwhelm'd with sweet delight;
We long to reach that heav'nly shore,
And see this evil world no more.

( how we dread to sin again!
'Tis sin alone that gives us pain :
We wish to melt in tears of blood,
Because we sin against our God.

But what are all these tastes of love,
To those we shall enjoy above ?
Just as a drop to all the sea;
A moment to eternity!

Wor. No wonder that he felt himself so delighted with a hymn, so suitable to his state ; but did he continue in the same happy frame of mind till bis death?

Hen. Why I remember, he sighed two or three times, and seemed a little dejected. I reminded


him of that text, “When the enemy cometh in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord lifteth up a standard against him.” He directly said, “Why should I fear, God is love: he hath loved me, and given himself for

He will never leave me ; he will never forsake me.”—I cannot recollect half the good things he said, but I never shall forget the two last visits Mr. Reader and I paid him, on the last day of his life.

Loveg. It is very confirming to hear of the testimony of dying believers in the Lord Jesus ; as I mean to make some improvement of this event from the pulpit, T should be glad of further particulars. 2 Hen. We were not a little surprised on the morning visit, at his first requesting that Mr. Fribble should be immediately sent for, and that he might be de sired to come while we were there ; and according to his wish, he was sent for directly. He then gave me the reason for the request, in some such broken language as this. As an instrument in the hands of God, how are we indebted to Mr. Lovegood for all we know?

“ It is the dying wish of my heart, that he may be invited to our town ; and I have no other desire to speak to Mr. Fribble, than to beseech him to lend the pulpit on that occasion to Mr. Lovegood ; and I hope it will be no injury to my poor penitent wife, and my dear child, if I leave him ten pounds to pay the expences of the journey. Mr. Reader not only approved the plan, but mentioned how glad he should be to receive him into his house as a guest; adding, that till he had corresponded with Mr. Lovegood, though he had so' often read his Bible as a school-master, he never understood it as a Christian.

Far. How did I ! in the days of my ignorance admire our Rector, Mr. Dolittle, for two sermons he used to preach against modern 'Thusists, and as how it was impossible for any one to understand the Bible; unless he had been brought up an Oxford schollard, bat I did not know that text in those days és I thank liee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thor

hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes!" : ; ?

Wor. Why really Mr. Reader's remark was a very excellent one, spiritual truths, can only be spiritually discerned;" the Bible is a most delightful and surprising book to those who are under the illuminating grace of the gospel.

Hen. Ob Sir! the old gentleman has told me that he could scarcely attend to the younger class of his scholars, through perpetual surprise, how he could be so ignorant with that book of knowledge in his hands. But before Mr. Fribble came, I read him the twenty-? third psalm, for I knew he wanted something short and sweet; and how he was delighted with that pas sage, " Yea, though I walk throngh the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me!". Though he seemed for a time quite revived, while he was mentioning that you Sir, (To Mr. Lovegood,] should be requested to visit Locksbury, yet after that as he seemed quite languid, I proposed that we should have a few words of prayer, and begged Mr. Reader would perform that office, at the request of his dying son-in-law; and it could scarcely be called prayer after all.

Loveg. No wonder at his hesitation on that occasion,

Hen. O Sir, how the good old man stammered and wept while he prayed ! and I remarked that almost every word he made use of, was from his recollection of some Scripture expression; and his feelings were so strong, that he could scarcely utter those words, which he adopted and converted into the language of prayer, “ Father I will that they whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory.” And after the prayer was ended, I was astonished to hear how well Mr. Chipman recollected that

“ We all, with open

face, beholding as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory,


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