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CHARLES PERRONET-PHILIP HENRY.

in taking leave of earth and hasting to another place. I am as one that is no more. I stand and look back on what God has done; his calls, helps, mercies, deliverances; and adore and devote myself with new ardour.

"In speaking of these things, it is hard to find utterance, and human weakness, intermixing much of imagination, causes the truth to be rejected. If it be asked, In what manner I beheld the triune God? I answer, It is above all description: it differs so much from what is human. Who can describe light, so as to make him understand

that has never seen it? And he that hath thus seen God, can no more describe what

he has seen, than he that hath not. In two of these Divine Interviews, the Father spoke while I was in agony of prayer for perfect conformity to himself; twice more, when I was in the depth of sorrow; and each time in scripture words.

"The manifestations to the Patriarchs were outward; and therefore admitted of being described. But what I relate was not outward: it was not an external vision: it was not what we commonly call faith; it was not an impression upon my mind, but different from all. While the soul is under the power of faith, the person of Christ is often presented to the imagination. But what I speak was not this; rather, I suppose, it was a similitude of what is seen in eternity. But still only a similitude: for while we are in the body, all the operations of God's Spirit are wrought upon one body and spirit, inseparably conjoined. We are now composed of a material and immaterial part; and nothing can possibly act upon one without affecting both. But by and by, we shall be, for a season, pure spirit: afterwards joined to a spiritual body so totally different from this corruptible body, that what we then perceive will be different from all we perceive now.

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even to me, I was overwhelmed with it body and soul, penetrated through with the rays of Deity.

"But was it light? It was not brightness more than darkness. Our common acceptation of glory above, is that of something glittering and something that is our own. But here are two mistakes: 1. We do not consider the difference between this and the other world. To us, that is excellent which is bright and shining: but what is excellent to them, is of a kind which hitherto we have no conception of. 2. We imagine glory to be something that is our own; whereas it is all things centering in God. Separate from him, there is nothing glorious: spotless souls would loath themselves, and their grace and glory, could it be possessed out of God. But there he is the first and the last, the mighty All. All things are by him and all things are to him; flowing back to their first rise, and resting in him as their eternal Centre. There the clamour of self-seeking and selfcomplacency ceases, or it would not be heaven. We only know, That God is; and he, being what he is, is our All.

"In consequence of this, I could never rest in grace absent from God. After I had beheld him, nothing but his presence could suffice."

[Alliteration.]

PHILIP HENRY would often contrive the heads of his sermons to begin with the same letter, or rather two and two of a letter; but he did not at all seem to affect or force it; only if it fell in naturally and easily, he thought it a good help to memory, and of use, especially to the younger sort. And he would say, the chief reason why he did it was because it is frequently observed in the Scripture, particularly the book of Psalms. And though it be not a fashionable ornament of discourse, if it be a Scrip

"It may be asked, was the appearance glorious?" It was all divine: it was glory I had no conception of: it was God. The ture ornament, that is sufficient to recomfirst time the glory of him I saw reached mend it, at least to justify it against the

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[Gilpin and the Challenge Glove.] “UPON a certain Lord's-day, Mr. Gilpin coming to a church in those parts, before the people were assembled, and walking up and down therein, espied a glove hanged on high in the church. Whereupon he demanded of the sexton what should be the meaning thereof, and wherefore it hanged in that place? The sexton maketh answer that it was a glove of one of the parish, who had hanged it up there as a challenge to his enemy, signifying thereby that he was ready to enter into combat with his enemy hand to hand, or any one else who should dare to take down that challenge. Mr. Gilpin requested the sexton by some means or other to take it down. Not I, sir,' replied the sexton, 'I dare doe no such thing.' But,' said Mr. Gilpin, if thou wilt bring me hither a long staffe, I will take it downe myself:' and so when a long staff was brought, Mr. Gilpin tooke downe the glove and put it up in his bosome. By and by came the people to church in abundance, and Mr. Gilpin, when he saw his time, went up into the pulpit. In his sermon he took occasion to reprove these inhuman challenges, and rebuked them sharply for that custome which they had of making challinges, by the hanging up of a glove. 'I heare,' saith he, that there is amongst you who even in this sacred

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place hath hanged up a glove to this purpose, and threateneth to enter into combat whosoever shall take it downe. Be

with

hold, I have taken it downe myself;' and

at that word, plucking out the glove, shewed it openly, and then instructed them how unbeseeming those barbarous conditions were for any man that professed himself a Christian; and so laboured to persuade them to a reconciliation, and to the practice of mutual love and charity amongst themselves."-Life of Gilpin.

['Ayánn-Charity—Love.]

"THOUGH I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal, &c.

"St. Paul's word is 'Ayάπη, exactly answering to the plain English word Love. And accordingly it is so rendered in all the old translations of the Bible. So it stood in William Tindal's Bible, which, I suppose, was the first English translation of the whole Bible. So it was also in the Bible published by the authority of King Henry VIII. So it was, likewise, in all the editions of the Bible that were successively published in England during the reign of King Edward VI., Queen Elizabeth, and King James I. Nay, so it is found in the Bibles of King Charles I.'s reign: I believe, to the period of it. The first Bibles I have seen wherein the word was changed, were those printed by Roger Daniel and John Field, printers to the Parliament: in the year 1649. Hence it seems probable that the alteration was made during the sitting of the Long Parliament; probably it was then that the Latin word Charity was put in place of the English word Love. It was an unhappy hour this alteration was made; the ill effects of it remain to this day: and these may be observed, not only among the

poor

and illiterate: not only thousands of common men and women no more understand the word Charity, than they do the original Greek; but the same miserable mistake has diffused itself among men of

education and learning. are misled

thereby,

Thousands of these

and imagine that the

GEORGE SHADFORD.

charity treated of in this chapter refers chiefly, if not wholly, to outward actions, and to mean little more than almsgiving! I have heard many sermons preached upon this chapter: particularly before the University of Oxford, and I never heard more than one wherein the meaning of it was not totally misrepresented. But had the old and proper word Love been retained, there would have been no room for misrepresentation."— Quære? WESLEY, vol. 10, p.

156.

George Shadford. In the Jerseys.

"ONE day a friend took me to see an hermit in the woods. After some difficulty we found his hermitage, which was a little place like a hog-sty, built of several pieces of wood, covered with bark of trees; and his bed consisted of dry leaves. There was a narrow beaten path about twenty or

thirty yards in length by the side of it, where he frequently walked to meditate. If one offered him food, he would take it; but if money was offered him, he would be angry. If any thing was spoken to him which he did not like, he broke out into a violent passion. He had lived in this cell seven cold winters; and after all his prayers, counting his beads, and separating from the rest of mankind, still corrupt nature was all alive within him. Alas! alas! what will it avail us whether we are in England or Ireland, Scotland or America; whether we live amongst mankind, or retire into a hermitage, if we still carry with us our own hell, our corrupt evil tempers!"

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withdraw himself, and use all his mighty influence to induce others to do the same. If his brethren are weak enough to regard his threats, and offer a little incense to his abominable pride, he will condescend to abide with them a little longer, till, having increased in vanity and insolence, he, through the weakness of his brethren, becomes the tyrant of the society and this oppression being more than his brethren are disposed to bear, they at length oppose him and then he retires disgusted, disappointed and enraged. Such a man is a curse to any society of christians; and the sooner they are delivered from him the better: but his guilt is of the deepest die! It is impossible to tell how many souls such a man may ruin. He may expect to be treated at the last, as one of the best friends of the old murderer."-Quære? WESLEY.

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A gentleman who is described as a peculiar genius of the present age, makes the following remarks upon the practice of sleeping at Church, without appearing to consider that part of the fault may sometimes be imputed to the preacher.

"THE horrid habit of sleeping in some is a source of infinite pain to others, and damps more than any thing else, the vivacity of a preacher. Constant sleepers are public nuisances, and deserve to be whipped out of a religious assembly, to which they are a constant disgrace. There are some who have regularly attended a place of worship for seven years twice a day, and yet have not heard one whole sermon in all the time.

"Ministers have tried a number of methods to rid our assemblies of this odious practice. Some have reasoned, some have spoke louder, some have whispered, some have threatened to name the sleeper, and have actually named him, some have cried fire, some have left off preaching, Dr. Young sat down and wept, Bishop Abbot took out his testament and read Greek. Each of

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[Mr. Gilpin and the Deadly-feod.]

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spent the rest of the allotted time which remained in disgracing that barbarous and bloody custome of theirs, and if it were possible in the utter banishing of it for ever. So often as Mr. Gilpin came into those parts afterwards, if any man amongst them stood in feare of a deadly foe he resorted usually where Mr. Gilpin was, supposing himself more safe in his company, than if he went with a guard."-Life of Gilpin.

"UPON a time when Mr. Gilpin was in these parts at a town called Rothbury, there was a pestilent faction amongst some of them that were wont to resort to that church. The men being bloodily-minded, [Mysteries revealed to the Meek.] practised a bloody manner of revenge, "LET this therefore be fixed upon, that termed by them Deadly-feod. If this fac- there is no obedience comparable to that of tion on the one side did perhaps come to the understanding; no temperance, which the church, the other side kept away, be- so much commends the soul to God, as that cause they were not accustomed to meet which shows itself in the restraint of our together without bloodshed. Now so it curiosity. Besides which two important was that when Mr. Gilpin was in the pulpit considerations, let us consider also, that an in that church, both parties came to church over anxious scrutiny into such mysteries, in the presense of Mr. Gilpin; and both of is utterly useless, as to all purposes of a them stood, the one of them in the upper rational enquiry. It wearies the mind, but part of the church, or chancel, the other in not informs the judgment. It makes us the body thereof armed with swords, and conceited, and fantastical in our notions, javelins in their hands. Mr. Gilpin some- instead of being sober and wise to salvawhat moved with this unaccustomed spec- tion. It may provoke God also, by our prestacle, goeth on nevertheless in his sermon, sing too much into the secrets of Heaven, and now a second time their weapons make and the concealed glories of his nature, to clashing sound, and the one side drew desert and give us over to strange delusions. nearer to the other, so that they were in For they are only things revealed, (as Moses danger to fall to blows in the midst of the told the Israelites, in Deut. xxix. 29) which church. Hereupon Mr. Gilpin commeth belong to the Sons of Men to understand and downe from the pulpit, and stepping to the look into, as the sole and proper privilege ringleaders of either faction, first of all he allowed them by God, to exercise their noappeased the tumult. Next, he laboureth blest thoughts upon. But as for such high to establishe peace betwixt them, but he mysteries as the Trinity, as the subsistance could not prevail in that: onely they pro- of one Nature in three Persons, and of three mised to keepe the peace unbroken so long Persons in one and the same individual as Mr. Gilpin should remaine in the church. Nature, these are to be reckoned in the Mr. Gilpin seeing he could not utterly ex- number of such sacred and secret things, as tinguish the hatred which was now in- belong to God alone perfectly to know, veterate betwixt them, desired them that to such poor mortals as we are, humbly to yet they would forbear hostility so long as fall down before and adore."-SOUTH'S Sermons, vol. 4, p. 321.

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he should remaine in those quarters: and

this they

consented unto. Mr. Gilpin there

upon goeth upi

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made

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the pulpit againe (for he
end of his sermon) and

but

WESLEY.

[The Warning of the Whiston Cliffs.] "WHAT shall we say to the affair of Whiston Cliffs? Of which, were it not for the unparalleled stupidity of the English, all England would have rung long ago from one sea to another. And yet, seven miles from the place, they knew little more of it in May last, than if it had happened in China or Japan.

"The fact (of the truth of which any who will be at the pains of inquiring, may soon be satisfied) is this. On Tuesday, March 25th last, being the week before Easter, many persons heard a great noise near a ridge of mountains called Black Hamilton in Yorkshire. It was observed chiefly on the south-west side of the mountain, about a mile from the course where the Hamilton races are run, near a ledge of rocks, commonly called Whiston Cliffs, two miles from Sutton, and about five from Thirsk.

"The same noise was heard on Wednesday by all who went that way. On Thursday, about seven in the morning, Edward Abbot, Weaver, and Adam Bosomworth, Bleacher, both of Sutton, riding under Whiston Cliffs, heard a roaring, (so they termed it) like many cannons, or loud and rolling thunder. It seemed to come from the cliffs: looking up to which they saw a large body of stone, four or five yards broad, split and fly off from the very top of the rock. They thought it strange, but rode on. Between ten and eleven, a large piece of the rock, about fifteen yards thick, thirty high, and between sixty and seventy broad, was torn off, and thrown into the valley.

"About seven in the evening, one who was riding by observed the ground to shake exceedingly, and soon after, several large stones or rocks, of some tons weight each, rose out of the ground. Others were thrown on one side, others turned upside down, and many rolled over and over. Being a little surprised, and not very curious, he hasted on his way.

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"On Friday and Saturday the ground continued to shake, and the rocks to roll over one another. The earth also clave asunder in very many places, and continued so to do till Sunday morning.

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Being at Osmotherly, seven miles from the cliffs, on Monday, June 1, and finding Edward Abbot there, I desired him next morning to show me the way thither. I walked, crept, and climbed round and over great part of the ruins. I could not perceive by any sign, that there was ever any cavity in the rock at all; but one part of the solid stone is cleft from the rest in a perpendicular line, and as smooth as if cut with instruments. Nor is it barely thrown down, but split into many hundred pieces, some of which lie four or five hundred yards from the main rock.

"The ground nearest the cliff, is not raised, but sunk considerably beneath the level. But at some distance it is raised in a ridge of eight or ten yards high, twelve or fifteen broad, and near a hundred long. Adjoining to this lies an oval piece of ground, thirty or forty yards in diameter, which has been removed whole as it is, from beneath the cliff, without the least fissure, with all its load of rocks, some of which were as large as the hull of a small ship. At a little distance is a second piece of ground, forty or fifty yards across, which has been also transplanted entire, with rocks of various sizes upon it, and a tree growing out of one of them. By the removal of one of these, I suppose, the hollow near the cliff was made.

"All round them lay stones and rocks, great and small; some on the surface of the earth, some half sunk into it, some almost covered, in variety of positions. Between these the ground was cleft asunder in a thousand places. Some of the apertures were nearly closed again, some gaping as at first. Between thirty and forty acres of land, as is commonly supposed, though some reckon above sixty, are in this condition.

"On the skirts of these, I observed in

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