eminent saint, and a faithful, laborious, successful minister of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Hitherto, we have borrowed our account of this excellent man from a short Memoir which was incorporated with the Address delivered at his interment, in the meeting-house at Maze Pond, Southwark, adjoining the burial-place in which his remains were deposited. We shall now take the liberty of transcribing a few lines from the Funeral Sermon, preached at Mr. Booth's meetinghouse, Prescott Street, on the following Lord's Day, Feb. 9, 1806, by the Rev. James Dore; which sermon Mr. Dore found it needful to preface, by reading a memorandum in the handwriting of the deceased, addressed to the executors of his will. It is as follows:-"I desire that nothing may be said of me in a funeral discourse, whoever may be chosen by my people to preach it." This request, unreasonable as we conceive it to be, carried with it, to the preacher and his friends, the force of a law; and while it alleviated the pain of the preacher, who modestly expresses his inability to do justice to such a character, has deprived the public of that lively description of Mr. Booth's excellence as a Christian and a pastor which Mr. Dore was qualified to afford, and which the public is taught to expect on a funeral occasion. This defect, however, Mr. D. has attempted to supply, as far as was consistent with the restriction under which he laboured. The text chosen on this occasion is Num. xxiii. 10. "Let me die the death of the righteous;" from which the preacher shews that the death of the righteous is always safe,it is generally attended with happy circumstances; and is, in some instances, followed with peculiarly glorious consequences. We shall borrow from the improvement of the subject the following practical inference: - "If the death of the righteous be supremely desirable, the consideration of it should reconcile us to the departure of those to whom this character did, undoubtedly, belong, whatever loss we, in consequence of their removal, may sustain. "Among those who are truly righteous, there are various de grees of moral excellence. Some are like "the hyssop that groweth on the wall;" and others may be compared to the majestic cedars of Lebanon." Some are as "reeds shaken with the wind ;" and others resemble the British oak, which, for centuries, defies the fury of autumnal hurricanes. As none are righteous by nature, so none are righteous in perfection. Some are so low in the graduated scale of excellence, that it may be difficult, if not wholly impossible, to ascertain whether they are on this or on that side of the line which separates between the righteous and the wicked. The world and the church claim them as their own; the world, from the severity of their judgm; and the church, from the candour of their dispositions. But others rise to so high a point, as to prevent every paintal suspicion respecting their religious integrity. "Yes, my brethren, you well know that there have been some MEMOIR OF THE REV. A. BOOTH. $39 individually so pre-eminently distinguished, whose characters were so decided, whose moral features were so strongly marked, and whose Christian virtues shone with such a bright, steady, and commanding lustre, that two opinions respecting them could not be entertained. They united in their favour the suffrages of all. Of such a man, all speak the same language:"Truly, this was a righteous man," exclaims the church: "Truly, this was a righteous man," echoes the world. "To such a man, the God of grace and truth hath promised that "an entrance into his heavenly kingdom shall be abundantly administered." Yes, he shall enter the temple of bliss in the most auspicious circumstances, amidst the shouts of angels, and the joyful acclamations of "the spirits of just men made perfect.' "Could we see those who died the death of the righteous, now standing before the throne, clothed in white robes, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads; could we behold them, "satisfied with fulness," exulting in bliss, tuning their golden harps to songs of immortal praise; could we hear their melodious voices, celebrating the "high praises of God and of the Lamb,"-all tears, on their account, would be wiped from our eyes. "The dutiful children, the other affectionate relatives, and the numerous friends, of the deceased, sustain a heavy loss, which they cannot soon forget. May you, the offspring of so revered a parent, often reflect on the instructions which you have received; on the many earnest supplications that, on your behalf, were continually presented unto God; and on the peculiarly edifying example of piety, benevolence, and uprightness, which you have long witnessed!-and, O! that it may be the unspeakable happiness of you all, to know that your father's God is your God! Then the separation, which has now taken place will not be final; for soon you will see him again, to part no more. "Wherefore, comfort one another wirh these words." It is delightful to reflect, that, though the most eminently righteous die, as to this world, yet, in some respects, they may be said to live even here. "Of many, when they die, it may be emphatically affirmed, that the place which once knew them, shall know them no more." The ocean has lost a drop. The arrow has winged its flight, and left no trace in the yielding air. They who are of little use while they live, will be soon forgotten when they die. While here, they were only shadows; and, when shadows vanish, what remains? But of others, the remembrance is not so transitory. "The memory of the just shall be blessed." The eminently righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance." They are embalmed with the most precious odours. They may be said still to live. "Yes, they sometimes live in the consciences of the wicked: there, a lasting memorial is left. On some occasions it is read; nor is it always read in vain.-They live in the hearts of their Christian friends; in their profound respect, in their affectionate regards, and in their grateful recollections.-They live in the benignant effects of their temporary residence on earth in the institutions which they patronized, in the minds which they formed, or in the books which they have written. "Though, in compliance with our deceased friend's express desire, I carefully avoid, as much as possible, speaking particularly of HIM, yet I cannot think that this prohibition should be considered as extending to his works, which are before the pub. lic. I hope, therefore, that, without violating the rules of decorum, or the laws of friendship, I may be permitted to intro duce a few words relative to his publications; which, on account of the interesting nature of the subjects of which they generally treat, the ability with which they are discussed, and the Christian spirit which they exemplify, I regard as monuments erected to his honour, far more durable than brass or marble. They are not composed of perishable materials: they contain the essential principles of longevity. By these, "he being dead, yet speaketh." "Would we form proper ideas of" the true grace of God," as reigning in our salvation from first to last,-of "the glorious gospel, as "glad tidings to perishing sinners;"-of the influence of revealed truth on the minds, consciences, hearts, and lives of those who believe it ;-of the distinguishing genius of Messiah's kingdom, as "not of this world;"-of the difference between the old and the new covenant, of the Sinai confederation and the Christian economy; of the nature and grounds of positive institutions, and the like, we may derive much advantage from the writings of our late invaluable friend." - A LETTER FROM A MINISTER TO A FRIEND. It is well. 2 Kings iv. 26. Dear Friend, YOUR long expected letter of December last I received. Indeed, I had almost given over an expectation of an answer; and began to think that you had forgotten me, or purposed, by silence, to signify your disapprobation of my first epistle; but those three words, which a great writer lays down as very difficult to be pronounced in all languages, for once yielded me satisfaction; viz. to say, "I am mistaken." It is with pleasure, therefore, I resume my pen, to write to my friend; though it gives me no sinall concern that, from late accounts, I understand it is to a friend under affliction. O, that I could send you some cordial to alleviate your misery and rejoice your soul! Or rather, I would say, O that Jesus, who is the kind physician of both soul and body, would send you a precious cordial himself, to refresh, LETTER FROM A MINISTER TO A FRIEND. 311 support, and comfort you! But as a wise God usually works by means and instruments (sometimes the weakest) I thought perhaps a few reflections, suited to your present condition, might not be entirely unprofitable. Not that I suppose myself able to administer any comfort; but it is with a peradventure, that what I suggest may be blest to you, and prove useful in some measure; at least I have the pleasing reflection, that my endeavour will be esteemed as proceeding from sympathetic tenderness and affection, and an earnest desire of contributing to your welfare. Don't think, my friend, I am going to trouble you with a long sermon when I beg you to turn to 2 Kings iv. 26. Perhaps you have not happened on these words since your last affliction commenced. I want you to look at them, consider them, weigh them attentively, think what is contained in them; and may you be enabled by faith to apply them for the comfort of your own soul! You may have been ready to say, under this affictive dispensation, "My punishment is too heavy for me to bear; the Lord hath forsaken me; my God hath forgotten to be gracious; the billows of sorrow roll over my head; and I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing." This has been the language of God's people very often in times of distress. It may It may be yours. But have not these been mistaken? Are not you also mistaken? Look at these words again, and see whether you have not reason to say with the good woman, "It is well." How is it' possible, say you, when pining sickness preys upon my own feeble frame from day to day, and from week to week; yea more, when it has taken up its dreary residence in my family for a long time; when it continues without intermission and is like to continue, what reason have I to say, "It is well?" Yes, my friend, and yet there is room to say, "It is well." Read the whole history of this pious woman, and you will see under what great affliction she could say so. And I would now beg your attention to two or three plain things, from which I hope you will not scruple to own that "It is well" with you. All I mean to say is comprehended in three words: Look at your deserts, at God's dealings with you, and at your pros pects of futurity. Were I afraid of affronting you, it might be some restraint to me in my enlargement on this first topic; but, I trust, I am writing to one who will readily join in all I say on this head. Now, when you consider yourself a sinner before God, such a one as David describes*; or such a one as Isaiah describes t (in which two places are included all our guilt and iniquity, original and actual); when you consider against whom you have thus sinned, the purity and strictness of that law which you have broken, and consequently the misery you have exposed yourself to for ever; when you have considered your deserts -- - in each of these respects, have you not reason to say, " It is well ?” O what has sin done for you and me! Sin, that cursed evil, has drawn us aside from God; has debased his image, has broken his law, and has merited for us everlasting destruction; and had we been cast into that lake which burneth for ever, from whence there is no redemption, we must have acknowledged the sentence just. Here then is matter for rejoicing under the greatest affliction; for while I am out of eternal torments “It is well." But, 2dly, Look at God's dealings with you. Having deserved such misery, had your whole life been one continued scene of sorrow, it would have been well, compared with eternal misery. But have you been thus exercised? No; God has led you, and fed you, guided and protected you all your life long; and though he has afflicted you at times, yet the rod has been tipt with honey; and in the midst of trials you have had reason to say, "It is well." But must I stop here? Have you been favoured only with temporal good things? I hope not. Consider then a little your spiritual blessings; - meditate awhile on that gospel which I hope will be the power of God to your eternal salvation; think on the love of that Saviour who left the regions of glory to dwell with man below; who veiled his Godhead and became incarnate, to rescue rebels from destruction*. Think what he endured while in our world! the shame and pain he underwent to work out the sinner's salvation! "The sufferings of his soul (says Mr. Flavel) were the soul of his sufferings." True indeed; for he bore the curse of the law, and. the wrath of God. Oh think on his sufferings till you forget your own; and meditate also on what he is now doing: he is interceeding before the throne in behalf of all his children. He sympathizes with them under all their afflictions; and he is gone to prepare mansions of everlasting joy for them,-I hope for you. This is the third thing: and Oh may you have a brighter and brighter prospect by faith every day of that goodly land above!-that land where sorrow can never enter; troubles never come; for all tears are wiped away from the eyes of the blest inhabitants. There is health without sickness, ease without pain, joy without sorrow, and, what consummates all is, the consideration that this happiness will never end. O my friend, if ever we arrive at the blissful paradise above, eternity, eternity, will be short enough to let us contemplate on all the way that Jehovah brought us;-short enough to sing of redeeming grace and dying love. Our souls will be full of seraphic raptures, and we shall glory for ever in our free salvation. To close all, therefore, view the love that passed by fallen angels, and saved the human race. View God's dispensations towards you all through life, and wonder they have been so gentle, merciful, - * Phil. ii. 6. |