In my imagination, I sometimes fancy I could make a perfect minister. I take the eloquence of, the knowledge of the zeal of and the pastoral meekness, tenderness, and piety of ; then putting them all together into one man, I say to myself, this would be a perfect minister. Now there is one, who, if he chose it, could actually do this, but he never did-he has seen fit to do otherwise, and to divide these gifts to every man severally as he will. I feel like a man, who has no money in his pocket, but is allowed to draw for all he wants upon one infinitely rich: I am, therefore, at once both a beggar and a rich man. I went one day to Mrs. G's, just after she had lost all her fortune; I could not be surprised to find her in tears, but she said, I suppose you think I am crying for my loss, but that is not the case; I am now weeping to think I should feel so much uneasiness on the account." After that, I never heard her speak again upon the subject as long as she lived.-Why now this is just as it should be.-Suppose a man was going to York to take possession of a large estate, and his chaise should break down a mile before he got to the city, which obliged him to walk the rest of the way; what a fool we should think him if we saw him wringing his hands, and blubbering out all the remaining mile, "My chaise is broken! My chaise is broken!" I have many books that I cannot sit down to read : they are, indeed, good and sound; but, like halfpence, there goes a great quantity to a little amount; there are silver books, and a very few golden books, but I have one book worth more than all, called the Bible: and that is a book of bank-notes. I conclude these remarks, not because my memorandum-book is exhausted, but lest the reader should think I forget the old maxim, ne quid nimis. No undue liberty, however, has been taken in publishing Mr. N.'s private conversation; since all the above remarks were submitted to him, as intended for this publication, and were approved. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS. THE difference of mental improvement, among men, seems very much to depend on their capacity and habit of gathering instruction from the objects, which are continually presented to their observation. Two men behold the same fact: one of them is in the habit of drawing such remarks and inferences as the fact affords, and learns something from every thing he sees; while the other sees the same fact, and perhaps with a momentary admiration, but lets it pass without making so much as one profitable reflection on the occasion. The excursions of the bee and the butterfly present an exact emblem of these two characters. I have present to my mind an acquaintance, who has seen more of the outside of the world than most men; he has lived in most countries of the civilized world; yet I scarcely know a man of a less improved mind. With every external advantage, he has learned nothing to any useful purpose. He seems to have passed from flower to flower without extracting a drop of honey; and now he tires all his friends with the frivolous garrulity of a capricious, vacant, and petulant old age. I wish the reader of these Memoirs may avoid such an error in passing over the history here laid before him. An extraordinary train of facts is presented to his observation; and if "the proper study of mankind is man," the history before us will surely furnish important matter of the kind, to the eye of every wise moral traveller. I would here call the attention of three classes of men to a single point of prime importance; namely, to the EFFICACY AND EXCELLENCY OF REAL CHRISTIANITY, as exhibited in the principles and practice of the subject of these Memoirs. I. Suppose the reader to be so unhappy (though his misfortune may be least perceived by himself) as to be led astray by bad society, in conjunction with "an evil heart of unbelief." I will suppose him to be now in the state in which Mr. N. describes himself formerly to have been, and in which also the writer of these Memoirs once was. I will suppose him to be given up to “believe his own lie;" and that he may be in the habit of thinking, that God, when he made man, left him to find his way, without any express revelation of the mind and will of his Maker and Governor; or, at most, that he is left to the only rule in morals, which nature may be supposed to present. What that way is, which such a thinker will take, is sufficiently evident from the general course and habits of unbelievers. But there is a conscience in man. Conscience, in sober moments, often alarms the most stout-hearted. When such an unbeliever meets an overwhelming providence, or lies on a deathbed, he will probably awake to a strong sense of his real condition. He will feel, if not very hardened indeed, in what a forlorn, unprovided, and dangerous state he exists. Life is the moment in which only this sceptical presumption can continue; and, when it is terminating, where is he to set the sole of his foot? He wildly contemplates the book of nature, in which he may have been persuaded, that man may read all he needs to know; but the forlorn outcast sees nothing there to meet his case as a sinner. Infinite power, wisdom, contrivance, general provision alone appear; but nothing of that further and distinct information, which a dying offender needs. He wants footing, and finds none. He needs the hand of a friend to grasp, but none is seen. Possibilities shock his apprehension. He may, perhaps, discern, that the present system has a moral government, which frowns upon guilt; and, for aught he knows to the contrary, the next scene may present a Judge upon his throne of justice-this world, his present idol, vanished like smoke and quick and dead called to give their account. Where then is he?-an atom of guilt and wretchedness! All this I say may be, for aught he knows to the contrary. But the express and wellauthenticated revelation, which that Judge hath sent to man, tells us plainly that all this shall be, and that every eye shall behold it! "Be it so," such a reader may reply, "still I am what I am. My habits of thinking are fixed; and I perceive my habits of life can only be decently borne out by my profession of unbelief. Both are now inveterate. Nor do I see, all things considered, what can be done in my case. How can I adopt the Christian revelation? and what could it do for me if I could?" I answer by calling your attention to the fact before us. What was the case of John Newton? Could any one be more deeply sunk in depravity, in profligacy, in infidelity, than he? Can you even conceive a rational creature more degraded, or more hardened in his evil habits? Would you attempt to recover such a mind by arguments, drawn from the advantage which virtue has over vice? or by rousing his attention to the duties of natural religion? or the possible consequences of a future retribution? He would have gone on thinking he had made the most of his circumstances, in his practice of catching fish, and eating them almost raw. He would sullenly have proceeded to sleep through the drying of his one shirt, which he had just washed on the rock, and put on wet. He would, with a savage ferocity, have watched an opportunity for murdering his master. He would have drowned all reflection in a drunken revel, and overwhelmed all remonstrance by belching out newly-invented blasphemies; and then sought to rush headlong, in a drunken paroxysm, into the ocean*. Here is certainly presented the utmost pitch of a depraved and a degraded nature, nor does it seem possible for Satan to carry his point farther with a man-EXCEPT in one single instance, namely, by the final disbelief of a remedy. Now by God's help this divine remedy was applied, and its efficacy demonstrated, of which there are thousands of living witnesses. A plain matter of fact is before us. It pleased God, by a train of dispensations, that this prodigal should "come to himself." He is made to feel his wants and misery. He follows the light shining in a dark place." He calls for help. He is made willing to follow his guide. He proceeds with implicit confidence and now let us examine to what, at length, he is brought; and also by what means. * See these Memoirs, pages 11, 16, 18, 21, 22. I speak of a matter of fact-whither is he brought? He is brought from the basest, meanest, under-trodden state of slavery-from a state of mind still more degraded, being foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating"-wanting nothing of a complete devil but his powers. This man is brought, I say, to be a faithful and zealous servant of his God; an able and laborious minister of Christ; a useful and benevolent friend to his neighbour; wise to secure the salvation of his own soul, and wise to win the souls of others. Consider also the MEANS by which he was brought. It was not by the arguments of philosophists, or the rational considerations of what is called natural religion: Mr. N.'s own account informs us, that the peculiar discoveries of revealed truth gradually broke in upon his mind; till, at length, he was made sensible that there was a remedy provided in the Gospel, and which was fully sufficient to meet even his case, and he found that, and that only, to be "the power of God unto salvation." The result, therefore, which should be drawn from these premises is the following:-There exists a desperate disorder in the world called sin. Heathens as well as Christians have marked its malignant influence; they have tried various expedients, which have been prescribed for its cure, or at least its mitigation; but no means, except God's own appointed means, have been discovered, that have been able to relieve so much as a single individual. Yet, strange to say, this medicina mentis of God's own appointment, to which only he has promised a peculiar blessing, and by which he is daily recovering men in the most desperate circumstances, who actually employ it: strange to say, this remedy still remains a stumbling block-is counted foolishness-insomuch that many will rather dash this cup of salvation from the lips of a profligate, like Newton, when disposed to receive it, than he should obtain relief that way. "Rather let such a wretch Their conduct seems to say, go on in his profligacy, than the Gospel be acknowledged to be the wisdom and the power of God." Not that the case of Mr. N., here presented to the consideration of an unbeliever, is brought forward as if the Gospel needed any farther evidence, or has occasion for facts of our own time to give it additional authenticity; but we are directed to regard the "cloud of wit |