sions, and confining himself to cool consideration, to meditation on "the walk of Christ to his death," and its application to his own case. We close our extracts from the narrative of Dr. Munter, with the account of the last moments of the life of Struensee. "Now the door of the prison opened, for which the Count himself never, but I very often, had looked with a fearful expectation. An officer came in, and desired me, if I pleased, to step into the coach, and to go before the Count to the place of execution. I was much moved and affected. The Count, as if it did not concern bim in the least, comforted me by saying: Make yourself easy, my dear friend, by considering the happiness I am going to enter into, and with the consciousness that God has made you a means of procur ing it for me.' "I embraced him, recommending him to the love and mercy of God, and hastened to the place of executiou. "He being soon called after me, got up from his couch, and followed those which were to conduct him. Coming out of the prison and getting into the coach, he bowed to those that were standing around. Upon the way to the place of execution, he partly spoke to the officer who was with him in the coach, partly sat in dep meditation. "As soon as both the condemned were arrived in their respective coaches near the scaffold, and Count Brandt had mounted it first, I got into the coach of Struensee, and ordered the coachman to turn about, to prevent his having the prospect of the scaffold. I "I have seen him already,' said he. I could not recollect myself so soon, and he finding my uneasiness, said, with a smiling countenance, Pray do not mind me. see you suffer. Remember that God has made you an instrument in my conversion. I can imagine how pleasing it must be to you to be conscious of this. I shall praise God with you in eternity that you have saved my soul.' "I was still more affected than before, and said, that I should look upon this transaction of mine as the most remarkable one during my whole life, since God had blessed it with so self-rewarding a success. It was a pleasing thought to me, that we should continue our friendship in a future world. I should have comforted him, but he, in this case, comforted me. He desired me then to remember him to several of his acquaintance, and to tell some of them, that if he, by his conversation and actions, had misled them in their notions of virtue and religion, he, as a dying man, acknowledged the injury he had done, begged them to efface these impressions, and to forgive him." * "On seeing the great number of spectators, I told him, that among these thousands were many that would pray to God to have mercy upon him. "I hope so,' said he, and the thought He soon after added: pleases me.' "It is a solemn sight to see so many thousands of people together; but what are these thousands, when compared with the whole sum of all God's creatures, and how very little appears one single man in Nevertheless God such a comparison? loves every individual man so much, that he has procured his salvation by sacrificing his own Son, What a love is this! "You see me,' continued he, 'ontwardly, the same as I find myself within.' And I perceived, all the while I was sitting with him in the coach, no alteration, but that he was pale, and that it was more difficult for him to think and to converse, than it was some days before, or even this very morning. However, he bad his full presence of mind, knew several of those that stood about the coach, bowed to many by pulling off his hat, and to some he bowed with a friendly mien. 66 6 My ease,' said he, is not a forced one. 1 cannot recollect any cause from which this ease arises, that could displease God. I am not ambitious to gain the applause of men, and I do not promise that I shall uot shew my uneasiness upon the scaffold. I now have disagreeable sensations, and I shall have more there, which I will not endeavour to conceal. But you may be assured, that my soul will look with calmness and hope beyond death. And how little is that which I am going to suffer, when I compare it with the sufferings Christ bore when he died. Recollect only his words: My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?' and consider, what excruciating pain it must have caused him, to hang for several hours on the cross before he died!' 6 I exhorted him again not to shew any affected fortitude in these last moments which was not natural to him. Such affectation would certainly displease God, and if he now still would mind what the spectators might think, I must tell him, that only a few short-sighted people would believe his affected firmness to be true. "I then said, Christ prayed for his mur derers even on the cross. May I rely upon your leaving this world with the same sentiments of love towards those you might have reason to think your enemies? "First,' said he, I hope that there is no one who has a personal hatred against me; but that those who have promoted my misfortunes, have done it with an intent of doing good. Secondly, I look upon myself already as a citizen of another world, and that I am obliged to entertain sentiments conformable to this dignity: and I am sure, that if I was to see those, who might perhaps be my enemies here, in the bliss of that world which I hope to enter into, it would give me the highest satisfaction. I pray to God that if my enemies might repent of their behaviour towards me, this repentance may induce them to look out for that salvation which I promise myself through the mercy of God.' 66 Though I could not see the scaffold, yet I guessed, from the motion of the spectators, that it was Struensee's turn to mount it. I endeavoured to prepare him for it by a short prayer, and within a few moments we were called. He passed with decency and humbleness through the spectators, and bowed to some of them. With some difficulty he mounted the stairs. When we came up, I spoke very concisely, and with a low voice, upon these words of Christ; He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.' It would have been impossible for me to speak much and loud, even if I had attempted it. "I observe here, that he shewed not the least affectation in his conduct upon the scaffold. I found him to be one who knew that he was to die, on account of his crimes, by the hands of the executioner. He was pale, it was difficult for him to speak, the fear of death was visible in his whole countenance; but, at the same time, submission, calmness, and hope, were expressed in his air and deportment. "His sentence, and afterwards the King's confirmation of it, were read to him; his coat of arms was publicly shewn, and broken to pieces. During the time that his chains were taking off, I put the following questions to him: Are you truly sorry for all those actions by which you have offended God and men? "You know my late sentiments on this point, and I assure you they are this very moment still the same.' "Do you trust in the redemption of Christ, as the only ground of your being pardoned before God? "I know no other means of receiving God's mercy, and I trust in this alone.' "Do you leave this world without hatred or malice against any person whatever? "I hope nobody hates me personally; and as for the rest, you know my sentiments on this head, they are the same as I told you just before.' "I then laid my hand upon his head, saying: Then go in peace whither God call you! His grace be with you! "He then began to undress, and inquired of the executioners how far he was to uncover himself, and desired them to assist him. He then hastened towards the block, that was stained and still reeking with the blood of his friend, laid himself quickly down, and endeavoured to fit his neck and chin properly into it. When his hand was cut off, his whole body fell into convulsions. The very moment when the executioner lifted up the axe to cut off his hand, I began to pronounce slowly the words, Remember Jesus Christ crucified, who died, but is risen again.' Before I had finished these words, both hand and head, severed from the body, lay before my feet." P. 185. The confession of the Count him. self, which is subjoined, is important, as verifying the previous account of Dr. Munter, and testifying the sincerity of the penitent as well as his anxiety to make reparation, as far as he could, to the world for the evil of his former example.-It is time for us, however, to return to Mr. Rennell, and his suggestions of the practical usefulness to be derived from the Narrative which we have been considering. Its importance, generally, as an unsophisti cated detail of a conversion from infidelity to serious faith in the promises of God through Christ, has been already noticed. Mr. Rennell further regards the work, in its application to four different classes of persons:-to the professed unbeliever-to the young man just entering on the world-to the theological student-to the practical minister. We cannot better promote the edification to be derived from the work, than by transcribing his observations, with which we shall conclude this article. "Should this book happen to fall into the hands of a professed unbeliever, he will not perhaps find it uninteresting to observe the progress of opinions the same with his own in a strong and powerful understanding, and to find the sources of infidelity dissected and laid open, by one who knew well the human heart in others, and was at last brought to a knowledge of his own. He may then perhaps be tempted to look inwardly upon himself, and to examine whether there is any resemblance between his own scepticism, and that of the unfortunate Struensee-whether it proceeds from the same cause, and has been attended by the same effects-whether the fabric of both systems is not reared on the same shallow and dangerous foundations. Could he, under the blessing of a higher power, be induced to investigate with calmness and with candour these most important points, this little history will not have fallen into his hands in vain. "By the young man just entering into the world, this volume may be read with peculiar advantage. He will first observe upon what slender grounds all objections against revelation are raised and sustained, and that they are the result not of investigation but of indolence, not of knowledge but of ignorance. Struensee, like Hume, had never, since his childhood, read with the slightest attention the very Scriptures which he affected to deride; he knew nothing of the evidences of religion, nor of any, excepting the most popular, objections which might be urged against them. "He will afterwards be enabled to trace all infidel opinions to their principal, it may be said their single, source-corruption of heart and profligacy of life. It is not, perhaps, a single act of intemperance (though single acts are sufficiently dangerous) that will lead the young and inexperienced mind into Scepticism; but it is a continued indulgence in some bad habit, which is contrary alike to the laws both of reason and revelation. It is the unwillingness to relinquish a favourite sin, and a growing attachment to the object of some desire, added to a consciousness of an increasing neglect of the Almighty, of his laws, and probably of his worship, which renders the mind of a young man dissatisfied both with itself and with those principles which are the cause of such dissatisfaction; he finds them incompatible with bis mode of life, and then he listens to any suggestion that would teach him how to abandon them; and thus it is that Scepticism finds an easy access to the mind. "From these pages the young man may also discover the full extent of his danger, when he quits the path of Christianity, and trusts himself to the shoals and quicksands of infidelity. A man, when he begins to reject the Gospel, generally reserves to himself the privilege of making a system of religion and a code of morality of his own, which he fully believes will answer every purpose of those which he has abandoned. But he little knows how soon each of these will dwindle into nothing, or, what is perhaps worse, accommodate themselves to his favourite passions and sins. * * * These are but treacherous safeguards; they soon give way and leave the unfor tunate dupe of his own moral and religious systems to fall from one step of infidelity to another, till he denies the superintending providence of God, the essential distinction between right and wrong, and lastly the immortality of his own soul; in short, until his wretched career terminates in practical Atheism. * "Thus it is that he who commences his infidel career by abandoning revelation, will soon find that his objections are equally strong against the religion of nature; they have both the same Almighty Author, they are both parts of one connected system, and they rise and fall together. "The student in theology may not altogether find the time lost which he may expend upon the volume before us. He will there find the best and surest method of treating a case of infidelity whenever, in the course of his future profession, such a one may come under his care. The tenderness and the anxiety of Dr. Munter, accompanied as they are by the most decisive appeals to the conscience, and the most deliberate system of reasoning, are admirable: the plan which he adopts is most judicious, and so exactly suited to the circumstances of his convert, (and the cases of all infidels are more or less of the same cast) that Struensee himself testifies, p. 150. "I assure you that by no other means you would have found access to my heart than by those which you have chosen.' It would, also, be no useless employment to supply the omissions in the chain of argument by making an abridgment of those books which are recommended for perusal. "But, as the theological student may learn from the narrative of Munter how he may best convert a dying sinner, so the practical minister may also learn how he may best treat him after he is converted. To those who may, either from duty or inclination, be desirous of preparing the soul of a recently converted sinner for heaven, this book will prove a most useful and practical guide. Of the validity of a death-bed repentance we must always speak with caution, as we cannot be competent judges of its sincerity; that can be known to the Almighty only. To promise, therefore, to the sinner the highest degrees of bliss and glory, and to encourage in his mind the feelings of enthusiastic triumph, is a line of conduct unwarranted at once by experience and by Scripture. How often in these days do we see the unhappy criminal sent out of the world by his spiritual at tendants in all the extasies of fanatical as- could be accounted sincere-without con- A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the Archdeaconry of Sarum, on the 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th of July, 1824. By the Rev. Charles Daubeny, LL.D. Archdeacon of Sarum. 8vo. pp. 69. Rivingtons. 1824. THE Charges delivered to the Parochial Clergy of England at the different Visitations, if they could be viewed collectively, would form a curious and valuable body of evidence, with regard to the prevailing temper of the religious and irreligious world at successive periods of time. Being practical exhortations to the Clergy to meet the particular difficulties of their calling, more particularly as those difficulties have been affected by local or temporary circumstances, they would give us an insight into the progressive state of Christianity among ourselves, and throw considerable light on our ecclesiastical history. Viewed, however, as detached specimens, they are not without their value, or their interest. Proceeding from men of dignified and influential station in the Church-men, whose admonitions are recommended to us not only by their external dignity, but, in most cases, by the experimental proof which they have already given in inferior situations of the ministry, of the sincerity of conviction under which they speak and admonishthey solicit our attention as the words of truth and soberness; and may well be relied on either as expositions of the state of religion at the time when they were delivered, or as wise exhortations to clerical exertion. We are pleased, therefore, to see them assume a more durable form by means of the press. This Charge of the Archdeacon of Sarum applies principally to those strong delusions of the present day which tend so much to obstruct the :-Methodismarch of true religion :tical enthusiasm,—Unitarian infideComlity,-Papal superstition. mencing with an expression of his fears for the prosperity of the Church, from the indifference of her friends on the one hand, and the increased hatred of her enemies on the other, the Archdeacon thus proceeds: "We are well aware, for the language of inspiration has informed us, that 'there shall be heresies,' and that it must needs be that offences come.' As watchmen of Israel, it is our duty, therefore, to analyze their causes, and, under grace, so far as may be, to counter-work their effects. At the same time we are to remember, that we have to deal with a being of whom the spirit of pride and independence is known to be the natural offspring. "It was a remark of the learned Jackson, (though I cannot at present take upon me to quote him with precision) that the enactment of a law was the very cause which created opposition to it. And that the circumstance of a positive command being delivered to our first parents, was what tended to give an edge to the devil's suggestions for its transgression. Hence I am inclined to think, that could the separatists from our Church be brought to a fair confession of the reasons for their separation, it would principally turn upon this insurmountable objection, that the established religion of their country carried with it at least an appearance of legal obligation, and was not a religion of their own making. Whilst, at the same time, nothing can tend more to encourage separation from an establishment, because nothing offers more grateful incense to the pride and vanity of the human heart, than the language, which levity and ignorance have in these licentious days combined to render current among us, respecting man's natural right to make a religion for himself; in other word's, to worship God in his own way." P. 2. this divine operation is of that gentle, moral, and persuasive kind, which is alone consistent with the condition of a free, reasonable, and accountable being. Accordingly, we find that, notwithstanding the strongest assistances of divine grace which may be expected from the faithful use of the appointed means, Christians, under the Gospel dispensation, are still left capable of grieving, of resisting, and even of utterly quenching the Holy Spirit. Whence the obvious conclusion is, that the Holy Spirit (in the language of the Prophet) draws with the cords of a man, with the bands of love; that is, by such motions as are calculated to produce effect upon intelligent and grateful minds; in other words, he moves and inclines, but does not compel; he leads and conducts as many as are disposed to be led and conducted by him; but does not sensibly and forcibly impel any, much less does he determinedly overrule wilful resistance-a mode of operation which would necessarily degrade a reasonable being into a mere animal machine. When, therefore, pious persons talk of their feeling the immediate impulse of the Spirit, they make use of language unwarranted by Scripture, because the Scripture has no where given Christians to understand that they are to be sensible either of the nature or time of the Spirit's operation. On the contrary, our Saviour made use of a familiar allusion, for the purpose, it should imaginations on this important subject. 'The wind,' said he, bloweth where it listeth, and ye hear the sound thereof, but cannot tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth; so is every one that is born of the Spirit.' And though our Saviour on this occasion refers more immediately to the distinct operation of the Holy Spirit in baptism, his speech may yet be considered Pointing out, then, the duty of seem, of cutting up by the roots all vain the Clergy to expose all such fallacies, and in furtherance of this object to keep the rule of the Apostle, that of dividing rightly the word of truth, always before them; distin. guishing the strict and literal from the relative and qualified sense of such passages of Scripture as admit of a perverse application-he goes on to consider more particularly the error of enthusiasm in appropriating to itself the language of immediate intercourse with God, as employed by the sacred writers in reference to the earliest converts to Christianity. "It is an admitted doctrine," observes the Archdeacon," in conformity with the language of Sacred Writ, that God worketh in Christians both to will and to do. But the particular manner in which this work is carried on has no where been revealed. From the general tenor of Scripture, in deed, we are warranted in concluding that as intended to describe the general manner in which the sanctifying office of the Holy Ghost was to be conducted under the covenant of grace. So that, in fact, there is only one sure criterion by which the pow erful influence of the Holy Spirit on bu man agents is, at this time, capable of being demonstrated; and that is, the effect produced by it on the life and conduct of the party supposed to be under its direction." P. 11. There is abundant matter, he afterwards shews, for the exercise of the affections, as well as of every sober faculty of the mind, afforded by a due contemplation of that stupendous instance of divine love to rebel |