better, and after eating her din ner, rose and took tea with her family and a friend who called, with whom she conversed in a very animated strain, on eternal things. She enquired into the state of the sick poor, and sent relief to those that were most in distress. About 11 o'clock she requested her husband to leave her, saying "I do not think I shall go to night, if I am worse you shall be called, but I expect yet greater conflicts with the last enemy; I feel but little pain." In less than an hour an alteration was observed, Mr. Moody was called, and very soon, without a struggle, she fell asleep in Je sus. Her loss has been severely felt, not only by her own family, but by all who had the happiness of her acquaintance. Zeal for the glory of God and the good of immortal souls, were lively traits in her character. She earnestly intreated sinners to fly from the wrath to come, and had a happy manner of addressing them, sparing no pains to be serviceable to her fellow creatures; she was very liberal to the poor: and tho' on very proper occasions, she contended for the faith once delivered to the Saints, yet she was no bigot, but esteemed all who loved Christ. Her Letters have been very much blessed, especially to her Mother: also to a family who were relations. May her dear children never forget her pious admonitions, but follow her who now through faith and patience is inheriting the promises. May her dear labours of love (especially her letters) be not in vain to her numerous relations, that the bread thus cast on the waters, may be found again, she being dead, yet thus speaketh to them. And may the MRS. ROBERTS. Eatington, Warwickshire. About Midsummer Mrs. Roberts was seized with an inflamation on her lungs, which herself and all around her thought would have removed her hence'; and she was favoured with much peace and tranquility of mind, willing and desirous if it pleased the Lord, to depart and be with Christ; but a blessing was given to means made use of for the removal of the complaint, and she soon got better, yet still conti nued poorly, and at times her mind was rather distressed repecting futurity, fearing least she should at last be found among hypocrites and self-deceivers; she was much cast down on account of her ingratitude to the best of Beings, but was much comforted by the powerful application of that passage of scripture recorded in the 8th verse of the 11th chap-> ter of Hosea, How shall I give thee up, Ephraim 2 In former gloomy seasons, she said these words comforted her, and she wished to have them to be the subject for her funeral discourse. The beginning of August she again grew worse, but her mind was very calm, her disorder con tinued and increased; a dear friend was sent for, to whom she freely communicated her feelings. It pleased the Lord to remove all her doubts, and in the midst of very excruciating pain, attended with constant sickness, to enable her to rejoice in God, and in the hope of eternally enjoying his blissful presence in Heaven. She said the sting of death was removed, and that she longed, with submission, to be released from her sufferings; but added, that the Lord's time was the best. A murmuring word was never heard to drop from her lips, she often expressed an unshaken confidence in God; was heard to say softly to herself "My God, my portion, my Rock," adding, A guilty weak and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall; [ness, Be thou my strength and righteousMy Jesus, and my all." and while her strength would permit her to converse, she went on in the same strain, saying, "O how I long to go, I shall see my Saviour without a veil between, and be for ever in his presence!" She appeared to have very exalted views of the saviour, and very humbling views of herself, "none but Christ, none but Christ," was very frequently her language, said she conld not express how much she loved him: but went on by saying that at the early age of 12 years old she was very much impressed with the love of Christ to poor sinners, in dying for them, and that at about the age of 23 she was led to see herself so vile and sinful as almost tempted her to despair of mercy, for many months, till her doubts were removed on reading a verse of a Hymn (which she could not then recollect) and that for a considerable time she enjoyed great pleasure in the ways and things of God, until she formed an acquaintance with some young professors, who only bore the name of Christians, with out the power of Religion to in fluence their conduct. An intimacy with them was a means, she said, of her losing that delight in divine things she before Vol. III. had, and also the comfortable evidences she before enjoyed of her interest in the love of God, and caused her to go on rather uncomfortably and mournfully in his ways, until the commencement of her late illness, and she wished her friend, to whom she communicated this, to tell it to others, hoping it might prove a caution to young people who set out in the ways of God, and make them careful with whom they form connections and acquaintance. At another time, after having had a very restless night, she was asked how she found herself? She answered, "my confidence in God is unshaken, death has no sting; Jesus is very precious;" with much more in the same strain, and repeated the whole of that Hymn of Dr. Watts's O for an overcoming faith, &c. and the last verse with uncommon fervor. Her extreme pain and sickness caused her to be so very weak as to forbid her minister having the conversation with her that he otherwise would have had; but when she could bear it, she was happy in his conversation and prayer with her. Surely never was witnessed a greater pattern of patience and submission to the will of God. She would often say, “I fear, I fear I shall be impatient; O that it would please him to release me, but his will be done, his time is the best, what are my snfferings to what my saviour bore for me?" At another time she was heard repeating to herself with great earnestness, and as tho' she felt great comfort from its being applied to herself, "I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands.” Two days before her death, she on a sudden said to her friend, "1 E am tempted to unbelief; the enemy of souls, I believe, wishes to distress me." But on being reminded that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin; she appeared comforted, and rejoiced that the enemy could go no farther than he was permitted, adding, I know I love Jesus Christ.' and on the evening of the same day she was asked if she enjoyed her usual peace of mind? She said, "yes, yes, no doubt, no doubt." The day before her death, her sufferings were very great, so - much so, that she said, they unfitted her for almost any thought or recollection ; but she was heard softly to say, "blessed Jesus, shall it please thee to come quickly," and immediately added, "thy will be done." She then presently uttered the following expressions, and which were nearly the last she spoke, so as to be understood, "I am almost lost in wonder and joy that such a sinful worm as I should have a good hope of being shortly admitted into the presence of my Saviour and all the redeemed, never, never more to go out ;" adding, to those about her, "When do you think I shall go home?" On the morning of the following day, she appeared to be dying, but perfectly sensible, on being once more asked the state of her mind, she said, "Calm within, very calm," but soon became unable to speak to be much understood; but with eyes and hands lifted up to heaven, could be many times heard imperfectly to say, "Blessed Jesus," and about four in the afternoon, the happy spirit took its flight where it longed to be, without a sigh or groan. Extract from the Waterford Mirror of 31st of Oct. 1810. "Death of the Rev. Benjamin Dickenson, minister of the Congregation of Baptists, in this City. This respectable and excellent man died on Sunday last, while employed with his accustomed energy and devotion, in the discharge of the sacred functions of his Office. We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be Such were the sogood or bad. lemn and awfully prophetic words which Mr. Dickenson had announced to his hearers as the ground of his exhortations, and which have been indelibly impressed on their minds by the unexpected and afflicting event which speedily followed their delivery. Mr. D. had advanced but a short way in their discussion, when he fell down in the pulpit, and instantaneously expired. Medical aid, tho' promptly procured, was totally unavailing: and the preacher was himself summoned, by the irresistible decree of providence, to that final judgment, for whose omniscient scrutiny, he was labouring with holy fervour and indefatigable zeal, to prepare the people committed to his ministerial direction. The moment of his departure was propitious to his hopes of a blessed immortality. From the temple of God upon earth, and the service of his benevolent Mas ter, he was called to that temple which is eternal in the heavens, there to receive the happy rewards of his mortal toils. The life of Mr. D. was distinguished by the exercise of every domestic virtue, by a conscientious and unremitting discharge of the pe culiar duties of his profession, and by a faithful fulfilment of all the social obligations. His pecuniary circumstances were extremely limited: but he bore the privations of poverty without murmuring, and uniformly testified a placid resignation under all the difficulties of his condition. His manners were mild and affable, his heart without guile, his conversation pleasing and instruc. tive. In humble retirement, the study of the sacred records elevated all his feelings, aud enabled him to say with joy and truth, "There is another and a better World.”. Mr. D. has left to the protection of heaven, and the benevolence of man as the instrument of its bounty, a Widow and five children, who are now cast naked on the world. They have, neither here, nor in their own country a single relative, to whom they can look for even the slightest means of support. At the moment in which we write, they are not only unable to pay with decency the last sad rites to the object of their love; they are also utterly destitute of the power to purchase the common necessaries of life; while some pecuniary obligations contracted thro' indigence, add heavily to their misfortunes. These calamities are severe; and they feel themselves compelled by an imperious necessity, to rest their hopes of relief on the public charity of a city, which on every occasion of sorrow, stretches forth a saving hand, and where the gift is generally conferred before it has been solicited. Whether we consider, in the present case, the pressure of the affliction, or the merit of the sufferers, we feel our selves justified in saying, that the generosity of our fellow citizens was hardly ever appealed to on grounds more deeply interesting. The family of Mr. D. are in total want. They are the unhappy survivors of a man, who held a reputable rank in the community: some of them are young, and now exposed to all the temptations under which they may fall, unless upheld by the fostering hand of social kindness. They are strangers in the land; and to the sorrows of strangers the bosoms of Irishmen have never yet been cold. But we are pleading a cause which has already found much abler advocates. No sooner were Mr. D's death, and the circumstances of his family known, than many voices were raised in their behalf, and a subscription was almost instantaneously set on foot; the design of which extends beyond their p present relief, and contemplates the prospect of placing them in some situation, in which by industry and economy they may provide hereafter for themselves, without con. tinuing a burden on that compas. sion which has so promptly and so zealously undertaken to console and relieve them. Specific arrangements are not yet made. These will depend on the amount of the donations; in the collection of which a number of the most re-. spectable gentlemen of the city have cheerfully offered their assistance. Whatever the may be, the public may rest assured, that it will be applied with that prudent management which will draw from it the utmost possible advantages. In the mean time, and for the convenience of those who may be willing to come forward without delay, do. nations will be received at the Mirror-Office, and carefully handed over to those who may hereafter undertake the arrangement of the funds." sum On the morning of last Lord's day, I took this paper with me to meeting, and after service read it to the congregation. Mr. D. was well known to several of my friends; and had frequently filled our pulpit with acceptance. A very deep impression was made by the recital, on the congregation, and called the energy of christian charity into exercise. A collection was made, publicly, for the widow and family, at the close of the afternoon service; and every evidence afforded of sorrow for the afflicted survivors, and of respect to the worthy man who had been so suddenly and so awfully removed from his honourable labours. I take the liberty to mention what our congregation has done, on this occasion, that other churches may be stimulated to adopt such, or similar, plans for the relief of the unhappy family. Above 30 pounds has been collected for them here. I cannot conclude this sheet without entreating my brethren in the ministry to regard in this dispensation the operation of God's hand. The past year of our labours is gone "with the years beyond the flood." Another revolution of the seasons is commenced: and the Judge is at the door. He now walks in the midst of the golden candlesticks; to trim their lamps, renew their oil, and secure their position, or to remove them from their places. Holding the stars in his right hand, he either shines on them with his heavenly beams, that they may reflect his lustre below, or removes them to a higher and more serene firmament, where they shine for ever and ever. Blessed Saviour, shed thy love abroad in our hearts by thy holy Spirit: fill our frail vessels with thy heavenly treasure: animate us in thy paths: shew us thy glory, that we may be determined to publish nothing among men but Thee and Thee crucified. Keep us near to thyself, and communicate such views of thy wonderful Person, glorious Work, and abounding Grace, that we may labour incessantly to preach thine unsearchable Riches among our fellow worms, and to commend thy Love which passes knowledge to the attention and affection of perishing sinners. May we feel that we stand on the confines of the spiritual world; and looking stedfastly at Death and Judgment and Eternity, may we labour to present every man complete in Christ at thy coming and kingdom. Humbly beseeching the Head of the Church to bless this dispensation. of providence to all who are in the ministry, and hoping that the conduct of our church and congregation, will encourage others in the labours of love. 1 am, Dear Sir, Yours respectfully, ACCOUNT OF RELIGIOUS PUBLICATIONS. Lectures delivered occasionally during the Winter Months of 1809-10, at Saffron Walden, Es sex. By J. Wilkinson. Baynes, Button, &c. 3s 6d. These discourses are ushered |