"My dear hearts, your blessed mother lived a most holy life, and made a most comfortable and happy end, and is now invested with a crown of righteousness. I think that it may be useful to you to have a narrative of your dear mother's virtues, that by the knowledge thereof you may learn to imitate her excellent qualities. "In the first place, let me recommend to you her piety and devotion (which were according to the exact principles of the Church of England). In the next place, I can affirm of her, that she was composed of modesty and humility, which virtues did possess her dear soul in a most eminent manner. Her discourse was ever grave and meek, yet pleasant withal; a vaunting, immodest word was never heard to come out of her mouth. Again; I can set her forth in her two other virtues, i. e. charity and frugality. She never valued any thing she had when the necessity of her poor neighbours did require it, but had a bountiful heart to all indigent and distressed persons. And, again, she was never lavish or profuse, but was commendably frugal; so that I profess, in the presence of God, I never knew a better housewife. She never delighted in the company of tattling women, and abhorred as much a wandering temper of going from house to house to the spending of precious time, but was ever busied in useful occupation. In all her ways she was extremely prudent, kind, and affable; yet to those from whom she thought no good could be reaped from her company, she would not unbosom herself, but in civility would dismiss their society. "I do believe, my dear hearts, upon sufficient grounds, that she was the kindest wife in the world; and I do think from my soul that she loved me ten times more than herself. Of this I will give you a notable instance. Some days before it pleased God to visit my house, she perceived a green matter to come from the issue in my leg, which she fancied to be a symptom of the raging distemper amongst us, and that it had got vent, and that I was past the maturity of the disease, whereat she rejoiced exceedingly. Now I will give you my thoughts of this business: I think that she was mistaken in her apprehensions of the matter, for certainly it was the salve that made it look so green; yet her rejoicing on that account was a strong testimony of her love to me; for I am clear that she cared not, if I were safe, though her own dear self was in ever so much pain and jeopardy. Farther, I can assure you, my sweet babes, that her love to you was little inferior to her's to me; for why should she be so desirous for my living in this world of sorrows, but that you might have the comfort of my life? You little imagine with what delight she was wont to talk of you both; and the pains that she took when you sucked on her breasts is almost incredible. She gave a large testimony of her love to you upon her death-bed. For some hours before she died, I brought her some cordials, which she plainly told me she was not able to take. I desired her to take them for your dear sakes. Upon the mention of your dear names, she lifted up herself and took them, which was to let me understand, that whilst she had any strength left, she would embrace any opportunity she had of testifying her affection to you. "Now I will give you an account of her death. It is certain that she had a sad consumption upon her, and her body was then much wasted and consumed; however, we being surrounded with infected families, she undoubtedly got the distemper from them. Her bodily strength being much impaired, she wanted not to struggle with the disease, which made her illness so very short; all which time she shewed much sorrow for the errors of her soul, and often cried out, One drop of my Saviour's blood to save my soul!' At the beginning of her sickness she entreated me not to come near her, for fear that I should receive harm thereby; but I can assure you that I did not desert her, but, thank God, I stood to my resolution not to be from her in all her sickness, who had been so tender a nurse to me in her health. Blessed be God that he enabled me to be so helpful to her in her sickness, for which she was not a little thankful. No worldly business in her sickness was any disturbance to her; for she minded nothing but the making her calling and election sure; and she asked forgiveness of her maid for giving her sometimes an angry word. I gave her several sweating antidotes, which had no kind of operation, but rather scalded and inflamed her more; whereupon her dear head became distempered, which put her upon impertinencies, and indeed I was troubled thereat; for I propounded several questions in divinity to her; as-by whom, and on what account, she expected salvation, and what assurance she had of the certainty thereof? Though in other things she talked at random, yet at the same time to such questions as these she gave me as good an answer as I could possibly desire or expect; and at these times I bade her repeat after me certain prayers and ejaculations, which she always did with much devotion, which was no little comfort and admiration to me, that God should be so good and gracious to her. "A little before her dear soul departed, I was gone to bed; she sent for me to pray with her: I got up and went to her, and asked her how she did. Her answer was, that she was but looking when the good should come; and thereupon we went to prayers. "She had her answers in the Common Prayer-book as perfect as if she had been in perfect health, and an amen to every pathetic expression. When we had ended our prayers for the visitation of the sick, we made use of those prayers which are in the book called the Whole Duty of Man;' and when I heard her say nothing, I urged her, and said,' My dear, dost thou mind?' 'Yes,' was the last word which she spoke. I question not, my dear hearts, but that the reading of these lines will cause many salt tears to spring from your eyes. Yet this may be some comfort to you, to think (as I conclude) your dear mother a glorious saint in heaven. "I could have told you of many more of your dear mother's excellent virtues; but I hope that you will not in the least question my testimony, if in a few words I tell you that she was pious and upright in her conversation. Now to that God who bestowed these graces on her be ascribed all honour, glory, and dominion, the just tribute of all created beings, for evermore. Amen. WILLIAM MOMPESSON." Another letter of Mr. Mompesson to Sir George Saville, Bart., patron of the living of Eyam, and written the day after that to his children, testifies no less strongly the excellence of his departed wife, and his own implicit trust in the Redeemer's merits in the immediate prospect of death. "To Sir George Saville, Bart. Eyam, Sept. 1, 1666. "Honoured and dear Sir,-This is the saddest news that ever my pen could write! The destroying angel having taken up his quarters within my habitation, my dearest dear is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested with a crown of righteousness, having made a happy end. "Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, she had fled from the pit of destruction with her sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days, but that she was resolved to die a martyr to my interest. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with her joys, which I think are unutterable. "Sir, this paper is to bid you a hearty farewell for ever, and to bring you my humble thanks for all your noble favours-and I hope that you will believe a dying man; I have as much love as honour for you, and I will bend my feeble knees to the God of heaven, that you, my dear lady, and your children, and their children, may be blessed with external and eternal happiness; and that the same blessing may fall upon my Lady Sunderland and her relations. "Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recommend this truth to you and your family, that no happiness nor solid comfort can be found in this vale of tears like living a pious life; and pray ever retain this rulenever to do any thing upon which you dare not first ask the blessing of God upon the success thereof. "Sir, I have made bold in my will with your name for an executor, and I hope that you will not take it ill. I have joined two others with you that will take from you the trouble. Your favourable aspect will, I know, be a great comfort to my distressed orphans. I am not desirous that they may be great, but good; and my next request is, that they may be brought up in the fear and admonition of the Lord. "Sir, I thank God I am contented to shake hands with all the world, and have many comfortable assurances that God will accept me on account of his Son; and I find God more good than ever I thought or imagined; and I wish from my soul that his goodness were not so much abused and contemned. "I desire, sir, that you will be pleased to make choice of an humble, pious man to succeed me in my parsonage; and could I see your face before my departure from hence, I would inform you which way I think he may live comfortably among his people, which would be some satisfaction to me before I die. "Dear sir, I beg your prayers, and desire you to procure the prayers of all about you, that I may not be daunted by all the powers of hell, and that I may have dying graces; that when I come to die, I may be found in a dying posture and with tears I beg, that when you are praying for fatherless infants, you would then remember my two pretty babes. "Sir, pardon the rude style of this paper, and if my head be discomposed, you cannot wonder at me. However, be pleased to believe that I am, dear sir, your most obliged, most affectionate, and grateful servant, WILLIAM MOMPESSON." May the reader and writer of this imperfect sketch, when the hour of death is, or is supposed to be at hand, enjoy the same rich consolations, and the same gracious trust, which supported the excellent rector of Eyam. [To be concluded in the next Number.] THE GREAT SUPPER:* BY THE REV. THOMAS FEILDE, M.A. Y. "A certain man made a great supper, and bade many: and sent his servant at supper-time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse." MANY of the parables, in their first application, were intended particularly for the Jews: as, for instance, that of the householder planting a vineyard, and that of the husbandmen beating the servants and killing the heir; but it is a mistake to suppose that most of them were not equally intended for all to whom the Gospel should be preached. Thus, the parable before us, though applicable most Sce Gospel, Second Sunday after Trinity. pointedly to God's ancient people, yet concerns all in every age of the Gospel. I. Let us first briefly consider the two applications of the parable generally. II. Next, the cautions and practical wisdom which may be thence drawn. I. The persons who may be considered as first bidden were the Jews. The Holy Spirit speaks to us throughout Scripture, with a condescension to our infirmities, in sentiments and expressions suitable to our natural desires. The mighty promises, the superlatively blessed condition of holiness and happiness in heaven, are represented, particularly by our Lord, in every way that can excite the attention or attract the taste of man. Sometimes they are likened to a kingdom; sometimes to a marriage-feast, where the bridal relations are mystically typified, and where the guests are expected to be suitably attired and properly disposed to the harmony and happiness of the scene; or it is as a state of rest and pleasure, where inexhaustible views of delight await us. Here it is represented as a great supper, agreeably to similar descriptions; in other passages of holy writ, God's calling men by his grace is sometimes represented by this metaphor: "Wisdom," saith Solomon, "hath killed her beasts, hath filled her wine, and hath furnished her table;" "The Lord," saith the prophet, "shall make to all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined;" and the marriagesupper of the Lamb is an expression familiar to all readers of the Bible. The Jews were chosen by Divine Providence to be the guardians of his laws and religion, not because of their goodness or their numbers for Moses expressly tells them the contrary but because God would keep the promise made to Abraham, and multiply his posterity-shew them favour as his peculiar people, and, through them, introduce his beloved Son into the world; agreeably to which promise, our Saviour declares he was sent first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. The seventy were sent to preach the Gospel through the cities of Judah. Judea was first to be apprised of the glad tidings of redemption; which having been rejected, then, and not before, the apostles were commissioned to go and teach all nations, and to preach the Gospel to every creature. St. Paul also, in the same order,.preaches to the Jews first; and being by them refused, adds: "Be it known unto you, that the salvation of God is sent unto the Gentiles; and that they will hear it." This construction, it is presumed, leaves us under no difficulty in applying the parable to the Jews in the first instance : Come, for all things are now ready;" as if 66 our Saviour had said, "The way of the Lord | by those who refused to come, though of has been prepared for your reception of the Messiah; you have had the knowledge of God's word, and, through that, of his being and perfections, always among you; your sacrifices have pointed to me your HighPriest, and have justly represented the Mediator of a better covenant; the prophecies of my coming have been fulfilled; and you ought to have no doubt of my commission from God. Come, then, for all things are now ready." But they all with one consent began to make excuse. The Jews obstinately rejected our Saviour; the greater part did not only make excuses, but persecuted him and slew him, to which he plainly points in a similar parable, where he calls himself the heir: "This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours." Now the rejection of the Jews by our Lord from a participation in the blessings and promises of the Gospel, is plainly announced in the last sentence of this parable: "For I say unto you, That none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper." The Jews, who did not welcome him, were miserably destroyed. Many, doubtless, at that time refused to listen to Jesus for the same reason that numbers do now; the world and the flesh, covetousness and lust, business and worldly concerns, which blinded the antediluvian world in the days of Noah, blinded many of the Jews in our Saviour's day. From the history of Jewish unbelief, we are instructed to apply the latter part of the parable to the calling of the Gentiles-the preaching of the Gospel to the whole world; for, though the streets and lanes of the city may seem to imply the outskirts of the Jewish country, yet, when we learn further that the master sent his servant into the highways, and to the unfrequented parts of the country, we cannot but apply this to the coming in of other people and nations besides the Jews. This construction is borne out by kindred expressions in the prophets; such as waste places, a desert, a wilderness, which, in their fair exposition, imply such portions of the world as were then unblessed with a supply and nourishment of the true religion. II. But the parable may be applied to all believers who have been invited to the great supper, the marriage-supper of the Lamb. Herein are two particulars more especially demanding our attention: 1. The excuses made by those who refused to come. 2. The character and description of the persons sought for, or commanded and compelled to come. 1. It is obvious that the excuses made temporal, worldly nature, were none of them vicious: purchasing lands or cattle, the farm, and the contracting marriages, are all necessary, natural, and reputable occupations. If any one ask, Why, then, were these excuses not admitted? the answer is plain. Nothing must stand in the way of the one thing needful. The concerns of eternity, and the safety of the soul, must take precedence of every other. Many similar declarations of our Lord agree with the displeasure here noticed at the excuses here urged: the quitting home and kindred, hating father and mother, the plucking out an eye, or cutting off an hand, are but other modifications of the same truth. They are, indeed, put in strong terms; and the sacrifices which they imply run counter to the strongest propensities of human nature: but the cause is important, and the value of the soul is to be placed before every thing else. The eternal displeasure of God is not what we should wish to purchase, nor is the loss of the soul the price we ought to pay for it. If one cannot be escaped, nor the other secured, without the consideration insisted on by our Saviour, who will deny that there is sufficient cause for our more stedfast exertions to remove every difficulty, every lust, which shuts the door against all hope of heaven? But, again, we must ask when it happens that those severe and unusual sacrifices are called for? Scarcely ever and in this country, under the peaceable enjoyment of religion, we know little of such a conflict. You know that you may be pursuing the works of your calling in the very road to heaven; we see (God be praised for it) in many instances that men of business may be men of religion too. If any one pretend that the calls and demands of religion would injure his prospects and mar his civil duties, and that he cannot be faithful as master or servant, as husband or wife, as parent or son, without neglecting his duty to God,-we must contend that, if he be not a hypocrite, he is so undiscerning and so blind that he has no cure for his spiritual malady but the light and life of the Gospel. Every soul in this Christian country comes under the invited in the parable; every nominal Christian is of that number; he has, or might have had, the glad tidings of the Gospel laid before him. The great doctrines of religion have been sounding in his ears, though to no other purpose but that of awakening his fears, but yet to increase his condemnation the longer he continues in sin. Some indeed, like the Jews, do not even hold out any excuse, but obstinately, and without excuse, reject the words of eternal life; but there are numbers who put off the gracious invitation, and by feigned pretences neglect the means of grace and ordinances of religion. Numbers who attend at the Lord's house unthankfully abstain from his table. The atoning blood of Christ is shed, reconciliation with the Father is made, and the grace of the Holy Spirit is ever ready to descend upon them, yet, by unsound excuses and unjustifiable apprehensions, they cannot find in their hearts to trust the mercy, and answer the calls and the commands of their Redeemer. 2dly, What is the character given in the parable of those compelled to come in? First, be it observed, by the word compelling them can only be meant the force of persuasion such as no man's business can compel him to decline but with his own consent; for when a man is said to be compelled by the force of conscience, still it is with his own consent. These persons were the poor. It is mentioned, both in the prophecies of the Old Testament and in the Gospel, as one of the signs or proofs of the appearance of the true Messiah, that the Gospel was to be preached to the poor. The rich, the mighty, the learned, refused to hearken, and mocked and reviled the preachers; the poor, the meek in spirit, the lowly in life and circumstances, with joy received the heavenly message, and were destined to sit down in the kingdom of the Redeemer, while the children of the kingdom of the Jews were to be cast out. Who are to be understood by the next mentioned the maimed and the halt? Who but those who are wounded by the poisoned arrows of sin, or crippled in their earthly career by poverty, disgrace, or affliction; humbled souls, deprived of earthly resources, possibly outcasts of society, whither can they turn for comfort, or find balm to assuage their unwitnessed sorrows? The world is but a hollow comforter to such sufferers; but thanks be to God, who formed the human heart, and knows the power of its corruptions, for having made a way for its conversion and renewal by the smart of affliction, and through the very trials and destitutions which it most naturally dreads, thus wisely and graciously bringing good out of evil: to all such a blessedness for those that mourn is promised. In this class, too, must be included those whom besetting sins and assailing temptations and infirmities detain in painful conflict with their spiritual enemies; their freedom is impaired in their course-they run not their way with joy-they taste not yet the glorious liberty of God's children; but they know, and are assured, that though | they now go on in their way weeping, yet if they persevere, and bring forth good fruit, they shall come again with joy, and bring their sheaves with them. Lastly, Whom are we to understand by the blind? Those who say they see, and act inconsistently with their conviction, and those who wilfully walk on in darkness. There may be moral and humane characters, upright and peaceable, who yet see no need of a Redeemer: either they trust in their own moral conduct and fair character in the opinion of the world, and think that sufficient to secure eternal life; or, if they own the Saviour, it is not so as to receive him in heart and will, in obedience and love: they say, and do not, though they call him "Lord." But, alas! the greater part of self-deluded sinners are content to go on stumbling in the midst of light, and beguiled by the deceitfulness of their own hearts; who speak peace to themselves, while they are treading in forbidden paths; who are not careful of their words; who profess to praise the name of the Lord on his holy day, but profane it on every other. For their practices in sin, and all their known deviations from the Gospel, they plead to themselves the example and customs of the world, the infirmities of the flesh, and their own blameless behaviour in some particulars, compared with the grosser conduct and more heinous sins of others: thus comparing themselves with themselves, they are not wise-they are wilfully blind. Now to every class of characters herein described does the Gospel offer terms of gratifying invitation and ready acceptance. Come, ye mourners for sin, for comfort is prepared for you. Come, ye poor, here are joyful tidings for the meek and uninstructed. Come, ye halt and maimed, ye sinful and impure, who loathe yourselves for your iniquities,-here is One, the Master of the feast, who is ready to bear your sins and infirmities, and to heal your griefs-the great Physician of souls has prepared for you assuaging medicines, and fountains of living water are opened to cleanse your corruptions. Come, ye blind— come all to the living light; for all things are now ready. And now, my brethren, let me, in conclusion of this discourse, beg of you to consider what you are called upon and invited to accept, and what will be the consequences if you refuse. 1. What hath almighty God not done for the children of men? He hath provided us with a spacious and beautiful world, stored with innumerable objects, all adapted to our comfort, enjoyment, and use; he hath given us bodies admirably fitted for such uses, and inspired into them immortal souls; in our hearts he hath placed his vicegerent, conscience, to be a check against sin by its secret voice and faithful warnings, in furtherance of which he hath supplied us with the word of his truth-the living oracles of heavenly wisdom, for our direction; he warns us by his judgments; he attracts and invites us by his endearing and tender mercies, and watches over us by his vigilant providence; he rebukes us when we go astray; he encourages us, and raises us to hope and peace; and when sin had made a fearful breach between his majesty and our approach to it, and had opened a gulf of interminable and intolerable misery to our rebellious disobedience; then- - as if nothing were too much to do for his wayward children, as if nothing was to be left undone by him that might enrich us-he divests himself of his glory, takes the manhood into God, walks among us as a brother and a friend, pleads with us, instructs us face to face and voice to voice, takes away the charges against us, as if our sins had never been committed, wipes out our disgrace, and bids us as new creatures, led by his ever-ready Spirit-take possession of an everlasting kingdom. Thus it is that God by Christ invites us, saying, "Come; for all things are now ready." Fear not, then, my brethren; sin is subdued, death and the grave vanquished, and heaven is opened to your longing desires, where sympathising angels rejoice in your rescue, and call you to join in hosannas to their God and your God, for ever and ever. And what does God expect in return for his offer of this rich provision of happiness? Only that you should accept his invitation. O, my brethren, after such undeserved and astonishing mercies, take heed how ye refuse Him that calleth-take heed to your ways, and harden not your hearts; for dreadful, unutterable is the alternative! It is too dreadful even to contemplate the result of longsuffering love provoked, of infinite bounty slighted, and of infinite power scorned. May none of us ever experience pains which we cannot now conceive! When once the sentence shall be pronounced over those who now refuse the invitation, neither man nor angel, no, nor the Son of man himself, can reverse it; for in that case, none of those that were bidden shall then taste of his supper." 66 RAMMOHUN ROY.* THE incidents connected with this floating sanctuary (the Mariners' Church, Liverpool); the histories of adventurous individuals with whom I became acquainted in ministering there; the results of the labour in the Gospel, which the Lord of the harvest • From the Rev. W. Scoresby's Memorial of his Son. London, 1837. was occasionally pleased to manifest among the confor a volume in themselves; so that I am constrained gregation,would be sufficient to supply materials to exclude a variety of interesting particulars very closely associated with, though not necessarily belonging to, the subject of this publication. Of one particular visit, however, of an interesting stranger, which the present reference to the Mariners' Church vividly recalls, I shall be excused, it is hoped, in giving a more detailed account. The visitor on the occasion referred to was the celebrated Brahmin, Rammohun Roy; whose very first attendance at public worship, according to the formularies of the Establishment, after his arrival in England, was in the Mariners' Church. His appearance there, in his native costume, was calculated to excite the attention of even the most devotional; so that it was not surprising that Frederick should have noticed, with particular observation, the conspicuous and interesting stranger. He came to our seamen's sanctuary accompanied by a Liverpool merchant, and a young prepossessing Hindoo, an adopted son. Having been shewn into the minister's pew, he was offered a chair, which was placed at the entrance; but, with a marked expression of humility, he declined it, preferring to sit on one of the benches. He seemed greatly struck with the fixedness of attention and self particularly regardful of the forms observed by the appearance of devotion of the seamen; and was himcongregation, with only one exception, and that occurred on the reading of the Lord's Prayer, when, on each repetition of it, he was observed to stand up. The discourse on this occasion was on the moral and spiritual disease of our original nature, with an exposition of the Gospel process appointed for its healinga subject not calculated, it might seem, to be generally pleasing, especially to one supposed to hold Unitarian sentiments; yet the Rajah, in the first expression of his feelings, as he entered the vestry after the service, with evident sensibility, exclaimed, "Happy indeed I am!" And on different occasions afterwards, he spoke with a good deal of feeling of this service, and in language characteristically expressive of his enjoyment of it. Having thus introduced to the reader this remarkable stranger, I may venture to digress into some further particulars concerning him, which a not unfre quent personal intercourse, during his first visit to Liverpool, afforded me the opportunity of ascertaining or observing. It was on the 9th of April, 1831,-the very morning on which Rammohun Roy landed in England,—that I had the pleasure of being introduced to him. Though gious principles of this distinguished Hindoo, supI was unfavourably prepossessed in regard to the reliposing them to be strictly Socinian,--my prejudice was considerably removed even on my first brief interview with him. He was a striking personage, apparently about sixty years of age. Though his figure was heavy and inactive, yet his general appearance was commanding and manly-bis countenance expressive and intellectual-his manners courteous, refined, and prepossessing. His hair, as far as seen beneath his turban, was black and curly; his eyes dark, and with more expression and penetration than is usual with the Hindoos, but far from severe. He wore mustaches; but the chin and lower part of the face were shaved. His costume consisted of a kind of cloth tunic, enveloping the person, with an interior vestment of pale blue silk. A cashmere shawl hung over his shoulders, and a scarf or shawl formed a belt for the waist. His head was never seen uncovered. He wore black silk stockings, with shoes similar to ours. The tawny surface of the neck was bare. On my being introduced to him, as one who had published different volumes on the Arctic Regions, he took me cordially by the hand, and said, “he had not |