FRIENDLY VISITOR.

No. CLVII.]

OCTOBER, 1831.

[VOL. XIII.

EXAMPLES OF THE POWER OF RELIGION.

"Though the grand evidence of those truths upon which our hopes are built, arises from the authority of God declaring them in the Scriptures, and revealing them by his Spirit to the awakened heart; (for till the heart is awakened, it cannot receive this evidence ;) yet some of these truths are so mysterious, so utterly opposed to the judgment of depraved nature, that through the remaining influence of unbelief and vain reasoning, the temptations of Satan, and the subtle arguments with which some men reputed wise, attack the foundations of our faith, the minds even of believers are sometimes capable of being shaken. I know no better confirming evidence, for the relief of the mind under such assaults, than the testimony of dying persons; especially of such as have lived out of the noise of controversy, and who, perhaps, never heard a syllable of what has been started in these evil days, against some of the important articles of the Christian Faith.

"Permit me to relate some things which exceedingly struck me, in the conversation I had with a young woman, whom I visited in her last illness. She was a sober, piudent person, of plain sense; she could read the Bible, but had read little besides. Her knowledge of the world was nearly confined to the parish; for I suppose she was seldom, if ever, twelve miles from home. She had known the Gos pel about seven years before the Lord visited her with a lingering consumption, which at length removed her to a better world. A few days previous to her death, in prayer by her bed-side, I thanked the Lord, that he gave her now to see that she had not followed cunningly devised fables. When I had finished, she repeated that expression: 'No,' said she, 'not cunningly devised fables; these are realities indeed; I feel their truth; I feel their comfort. O, tell my friends, tell my acquaintance, tell inquiring souls, tell poor sinners, tell all the daughters of Jerusalem,

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(alluding to Solomon's Song,) what Jesus has done for my soul! Tell them, that now, in the time of need, I find him my Beloved, and my Friend; and as such I commend him to them.'

"She then fixed her eyes stedfastly upon me, and proceeded to the best of my recollection, as follows: "Sir, you are highly favoured, in being called to preach the Gospel. I have often heard you with pleasure; but give me leave to tell you, that I now see all you have said, or all you can say, is comparatively but little. Nor till you come into my situation, and have death and eternity full in your view, will it be possible for you to conceive the vast weight and importance of the truths you declare. Oh! sir, it is a serious thing to die; no words can express what is needful to support the soul in the solemnity of a dying hour.'

"When I visited her again, she said, 'I feel that my hope is fixed on the Rock of Ages: I know whom I have believed. But the approach of death presents a prospect which is, till then, hidden from us, and which cannot be described. She said much more to the same purpose: and in all she spoke there were dignity, weight, and evidence. We may well say, with Elihu, Who teacheth like the Lord!"

"Many instances of the like kind I have met with here. I have a poor girl near me, whose natural capacity is very small; but the Lord has been pleased to make her acquainted alternately with great temptations, and also great discoverries of his love and truth: sometimes when her heart is enlarged, I listen to her with astonishment. I think no books or ministers I ever met with, have given me such an impression and understanding of what the Apostle styles, the deep things of God,' as I have, upon some occasions, received from her conversation. ......

"We have lost another of the people here; a person of much experience, eminent grace, wisdom, and usefulness. She walked with God forty years. She was one of the Lord's poor; but her poverty was decent, sanctified, and honourable. She lived respected, and her death is considcred as a public loss. It is a great loss to me; I shall miss her advice and example, by which I have been often

instructed and animated. Almost the last words she uttered

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were, The Lord is my portion, saith my soul.'......

"My attendance upon the sick is not always equally comfortable; but could I learn aright, it might be equally instructive. Some confirm to me the preciousness of a Saviour, by the cheerfulness with which, through faith in his name, they meet the king of terrors. Others no less confirm it, by the terror and reluctance they discover, when they find they must die. For though there are too many who sadly slight the blessed Gospel while they are in health, yet, in this place, most are too far enlightened to be quite thoughtless about their souls in their last illness, if they retain their senses. Then like the foolish virgins, they say, "Give us of your oil!'

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Through the Lord's goodness, several whom I have visited in these circumstances, have offered me a comfortable hope. I have seen a marvellous and blessed change. take place, in a few days, in their language, views, and temper. I now visit a young person, who is cut short in. her nineteenth year, by a consumption, and who I think, cannot live many days. I found her very ignorant and insensible, and she remained so a good while; but of late, I hope, her heart is touched. She feels her lost state; she seems to have some right desires; and I cannot but think the Lord is teaching her, and will reveal himself to her before she departs.

"But the scene is sometimes different. I saw a young woman die the last week. I had been often with her; but the night she was removed, she could only say, 'O, I cannot live! I cannot live! She repeated this mournful complaint as long as she could speak: for as the vital powers were more oppressed, her voice was changed into groans; her groans grew fainter and fainter; and in about a quarter of an hour after she had done speaking, she expired. Poor creature! said I to myself, as I stood by her bed-side, if you were a duchess, in this situation, what could the world do for you now! I thought likewise, how many things are there that give us pleasure or pain, and assume a mighty importance in our view, which, in a dying hour, will be no more to us, than the clouds that

fly unnoticed over our heads. Then the truth of our Lord's declaration will be seen, felt, and acknowledged; 'One thing is needful.' And we shall be ready to apply Grotius's dying confession to a great part of our lives: Ah! I have consumed my time in laboriously doing nothing!'

ILLUSTRATION OF MALACHI iii. 2, 3.

"But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner's fire, and like fullers' soap: And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness."

Some months ago, there were a few ladies in Dublin who met together to read the Scriptures and to make them the subject of their conversation; they were reading the third chapter of Malachi: "behold I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me, &c." One of the ladies gave it as her opinion that the fullers' soap and the refiner of silver were only the same image, intended to convey the same view of the sanctifying influences of the grace of Christ.

No, said another, they are not just the same image: there is something remarkable in the expression, in the third verse," he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." They all said, that possibly it might be so. This lady was going into the town, and she promised to see a silversmith, and report to them what he said on the subject. She went, without telling him the object of her errand, and begged to know the process of refining silver; which he fully described to her. "But do you sit, Sir," said she," while you are refining ?" "Oh! yes, madam, I must sit, with my eye steadily fixed on the furnace, since if the silver remain too long, it is sure to be injured." She at once saw the beauty and the comfort too of the expression, "he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." Christ sees it needful to put his children into the furnace, but he is seated by the side of it. His eye is steadily intent on the work of purifying; and his wisdom and his love are both engaged to do all in the best manner for them. Their trials do not come at random: the very hairs of their head are all numbered.

As the lady was returning to tell her friends what she had heard, just as she turned from the shop door the silversmith called her back, and said that he had forgot to mention one thing; and that was, that he only knew that the process of purifying was complete by seeing his own image in the silver!

When Christ sees his image in his people, his work of purifying is accomplished.

SOME ACCOUNT OF BISHOP CHASE.

Amersham, March 25th, 1931.

I fear you will begin to think that I have forgotten my promise to give an account of the circumstances respecting Bishop Chase, which Mr. M- related to us. I regret that I did not make more particular enquiries of Mr. M. concerning the early circumstances of the Episcopal Church in America. During the war of independence, and for some time after, it was looked upon with much suspicion, as being associated with attachment to the government of the mother country, and to monarchy in general; after a time it began to recover a little from this depressed state, and was visited by one of the Scotch Bishops, who ordained ministers and consecrated two bishops; and it was from the latter, that Bishop Chase received consecration. When he was appointed to the diocese of Ohio, (a state only in the infancy of its settlement,) and took possession of the lands allotted him, he found the field of his labours, spiritually and literally, a barren and uncultivated wilderness. The first thing to be done was to build a log-house to shelter him, at which he laboured with his own hands. During that summer, his wife and he had the assistance of a farmer's labourer, who took care of his horse, &c. but as the winter came on, they found they could not afford this, and did all their work themselves. The winter proved a severe one, and so much exposure and hard labour affected his hands with chilblains, swelling and chopping, so that it became very difficult to him to hold a pen. While they were in this state, and while he was revolving in his mind by what means he could do any thing for the improvement of the moral desert in which he was placed, he received a letter from a gentleman of Philadelphia, known to him only by name, containing a number of questions upon the state of