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receive these, not as our own acquisition, but as the gifts of God. Let us lift up our hearts to Him that giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. He alone can give that faith which is the evidence and conviction of things not seen. He alone can beget us into a lively hope of an inheritance eternal in the heavens; and He alone can shed abroad his love in our hearts, by the Holy Spirit given unto us. Ask therefore and it shall be given you; cry unto Him and you shall not cry in vain. How can you doubt? "If ye being evil know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven, give the Holy Spirit unto them that ask him?" So shall ye be living witnesses that wisdom, holiness, and happiness are one, are inseparably connected and united, and are indeed the beginning of that eternal life which God hath given us in his Son.

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CHAPTER LXI.

DIFFIDENCE IN THE AUTHOR.

If I were addressing mankind verbally, I could venture to close this subject. But when I reflect on the accountability of an Author writing on a religious subject, submitting to the world not only the views of others, but his own also, I am almost made to tremble, and my pen to falter and drop from my hand, through fear of omitting some important consideration, or advancing something erroneous, which will not only live with me, but must be sealed with my life and dying breath. What I now advance to the world is not designed to touch softly upon the ear for a moment only, and then evaporate forever; but it may remain, and be had in remembrance, when the mortal fingers that move the pen to night, shall be devoured by worms and corruption. And, considering my weakly constitution, my long indisposition, (for in ten years, I have not enjoyed one days health,) I cannot expect to continue long in the land of the living. And can I be indifferent in selecting my subject which is to be submitted to the examination of mankind, not only in the time of my tabernacling in the flesh, but when this body must lie mouldering in the dust? Shall I, whose only desire is to spend the balance of my days in the faithful discharge of my duty towards my God, and my fellow mortals be indifferent towards you? I, who have endeavoured for ten years to wean all natural ties of relationship, and live a life of hermitage, in order to become enabled to be beneficial to mankind in general, at last conclude, with cold indiffer

ence, that you are nothing to me; and say, no matter what course you pursue, I shall soon leave you, and then your conduct will not affect me? God forbid that I should cease my exertion of body or mind for the universal benefit of mankind, as long as breath remains in this mortal frame. But, grant, O Lord, to enable me to perform and discharge my duty faithfully towards all sects and denominations of men. Of all the situations that man can be placed in on earth, that of an author on religious subjects is one of the greatest importance, both with respect to himself and mankind in general. If he gives an unfaithful account of the mysteries of religion; if he imparts not truth to the ignorant, and warns not the transgressor of his danger, of him may their blood be required by their master. When these reflections crowded on my mind, I have sometimes been almost ready to repent my undertaking; but what could I do, could I flee from the presence of the Lord? Jonah had at last to go to Nineveh, and where could I go; my duty of accomplishing this work has been so strongly enforced on my mind for some years past, that I have been almost as useless to society as Jonah was when beneath the rolling billows. I tried intemperance, amusements, and various means to rid my mind of the duty, which appeared to be laid on me, but in vain; it returned with redoubled violence and I found no way to escape. In the spring of 1828, I determined to leave the state of Kentucky and return to my birth place, (Albemarle County, Virginia,) with a hope that the continual change of scenery, and the pleasure of meeting my old friends, would at length divert my attention, and release my mind from this duty. But witness O heavens, give ear O earth! How disappointed was I in this. I do verily believe, and ever shall, that Jonah's conflicts while in the whale's belly were no greater than mine while in the state of Virginia, until I determined to return to Kentucky and do that which was so much impressed on my mind, trusting in the Lord to open the way for the accomplishment thereof. (The manner in which it was commenced, &c. I shall speak of more fully in the next and last chapter of this work.) To return to my subject. I now consider, that if an author is able from the treasures of wisdom, to inform the ignorant, warn the sinner, to scatter abroad and dispense food to the hungry, his reward is with his God. And whilst engaged in a work of that kind he may rejoice at midnight; though sleep should forsake him, yet there is true gratification in the discharge of duty; I now feel an experimental knowledge of this. At this ⚫ moment is the clock telling five, and I have been steadily engaged from midnight to the present time and do not feel the least weary; no, nor have I had the least right to complain since I first com

menced writing; although but little more than three hours sleep in twenty-four has fell to my lot for many weeks; going to bed at 9, rising at 12, and writing until 5; probably then a half hours sleep, then writing again till nine at night; these have been my regulations from day to day, since I commenced this work. And yet I am happier than I have been for many years. The nearer

I come toward a close of this treatise, the more I feel convinced that I am discharging a duty enjoined on me, toward my God and my fellow men, and the more my mind is relieved from the painful reflections of omission.

I feel it my duty to instruct and persuade, and this appears to comprehend the whole duty of an author.

Men, in general, are ignorant of God their maker, and of them selves; of their various relations to God, and the duties arising from these relations. The author's duty is to pour upon them the light of truth, derived from the Scriptures. Men are indisposed to good, borne away by passion, and unwilling to follow the convictions of their minds. It is an author's duty to stop them in their mad career, and to entreat them by every pressing consideration to walk in the sober path of wisdom and uprightness. Though useless indeed may be his instructions, and unheeded as the idle wind his exhortations, unless the spirit of grace carry them home to their heart, yet this spirit is promised and when he is tempted to despond in the view of the inefficacy of his labours, the cheering voice of "Lo, I am with you, should exhilarate his mind and reanimate his exertions. As, then, the exhibition of truth is the first great duty of an author, I think it worthy of enquiry, what truths are best calculated to make men holy, and consequently happy, and what manner of exhibition will be the most likely to impress.

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For instruction on both these points we must have recourse to the law and to the testimony;" and the Apostles are examples, which should be carefully followed by all their successors. While we were yet sinners, it is written "Christ died for us. "He that believeth not on the Son of God hath not life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of Heaven." The sinful and perishing condition of men, the atonement of Christ, the necessity of believing on his name, and a change in our moral character by the Grace of God, are truths asserted in these passages, inculcated throughout the Gospel, and which were constantly proclaimed and insisted upon by our divine master and his disciples. They are, therefore, foundation stones, on which modern authors and speakers should build their goodly edifice of christian morality. The truth should now be taught as formerly, not with words of mans wisdom, but with plainness, clearness, and faithfulness.

CHAPTER LXII.

NOTICE OF A FEW PARTICULAR FRIENDS.

I HAVE finished the work that I at the commencement thought I had to do.

Fain would I now speak of a few particular friends, but my heart is too full; the respect and attention paid me by them, has put it out my power to acknowledge my sensations of gratitude toward them; particularly my dear old friend and uncle, John Sandidge, who has treated me with such friendship that my pen falters, and my heart swells as I call it to mind.

On the morning that I was about to commence this work, the only alternative that appeared to present itself to view for the accomplishment of it, was, to take my materials to an old waste house that I had formerly occupied, and commit to paper; but the old gentleman hearing of my intention sent his son to offer me a room in his house, which I gladly accepted. He accordingly furnished me with a large commodious apartment, well furnished with beds, tables, books, candles, and kept constantly burning in the same a charming fire; and furnished myself and horse, with every accommodation that could possibly be wished for. These things, now that I am about to leave him, have produced such overpowering sensations of gratitude as have never before experienced, and disables me in performing my desire of acknowledging my thankfulness in suitable language. My old friend, and also his family, contrary to what I at the commencement apprehended, have continued to show every mark of friendship and attention to the last moment; though I was fearful at the commencement, that a kind of envy would arise in some of them; instead of which, there has been a continued increase of intimacy and friendship from the day that I made his house my home. I can add that I could not have been better fixed, I could not have been better accommodated, nor could I have been better satisfied at any place in this world, than I have been since I engaged in this work.

The old gentleman is the person spoken of in a former chapter, who was so anxious to have a Sunday School established in our neighbourhood. His views on that subject, as well as my own, may be seen by perusing a former chapter. A few years since, he lost his companion, a year or two after, his mother departed this life at the extreme age of 106 years; her business, and her person, had been attended to by her son for forty years or upwards, with all that tender affection, gratitude and fidelity

NOTICE OF A FEW PARTICULAR FRIENDS.

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due from a child to a parent. A year or two after the death of his mother he was smitten with blindness. All who were acquainted with his persevering, industrious disposition, would naturally conclude these things would have produced a change in his mind; but I see but little; he yet has a surprising flow of spirits, and bears his losses, crosses, and afflictions, with a philosophic and christian-like fortitude. He has two sons with him, Dabney and John, who constitute the whole of his white family; they have" treated me like brothers; every thing they could do for me, was done as soon as named. Dabney attends to the whole of the old gentleman's business and no person on earth could be more attentive than he is. John is not yet settled at any particular business. The rest of his children have left him.

I would now be glad to say something respecting the long and intimate friendship that has existed between Chas. Goalder and myself, whose house has often been my home; who in all my afflictions has come in a moment's warning, done any business I required, and always to my satisfaction, for nine years past. All who are acquainted with my disposition, will readily excuse my pen faltering in writing on this subject;-no brother on earth has shewed the same friendship towards me; and when I call to mind the tender and consoling language of his wife in times of affliction and distress of mind, I can only exclaim O! what a woman. May God of his infinite mercy bless her, her husband, and dear children. The children have been so obedient, that they feel near and dear to me, and nothing that is in my power will ever be omitted that will increase their happiness and prosperity in this life, or instruct them in things pertaining to the life to come. Should any enquire why I have named these persons particularly and none of my other friends, I will explain it. I wish to give no offence, as I have received particular attention from almost every acquaintance, but, with these families I have at several different times lived and made their houses my home, and the respect shown me by them in all my afflictions, &c., has in a particular manner endeared them to me. I now close my work, humbly pleading with the Lord that it may prove a blessing to society.-AMEN.

THE END.

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