would never again be guilty of this offence. Yet, as Mr. Hall observes, were his resolutions expressed as if he were smarting under the penalty of his crime; not as if conscious of his own inability to keep the engagement which he was entering into. He spoke as a man strong in his own strength, and as yet unacquainted with the perfect weakness of that determination which is not taken in dependence upon the power of God. On the point of again falling into the sins of which he had repented,

or,

portance of every other possession, in comparison with the grand discovery which he had now made, had wonderfully diminished. A friend had given him the second chapter of the Ephesians for his consideration, that he might gain still further views of his state of guilt and defilement, and that he might more clearly trace both the power of Divine grace by which the sinner is quickened, and the bright prospect placed before those who have returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of the soul. The conversation of this day led to the subjects contained in this chapter; and more particularly to the impossibility of man's pardon, but by the free grace of God, procured for us by the death of our Lord Jesus Christ. In the midst of a statement of the difficulties in the way of salvation, by any natural power we possess, the evil of our heart, the weakness of our best endeavours, and the defilement of our services, Jolin remarked, "I must put off my sins." It was asked, what he meant by putting off his sins. His answer manifested at once the simple, but clear, manner in which he had received the Scripture illustration which had been pointed out to him the day before, and was truly gladdening to the feeling of his visiters: "Did you not tell me yesterday about the live goat on whose head the sins were laid?" The application of the type of the scape-goat had thus been made by him to his own state; and he had arrived at the conviction, that whatever might have been his sins, and whatever were his hindrances, he was permitted to "put them all off," upon that great all-suicient atonement, the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world. He had thus been enabled to feel his burden, to bring it to the cross of Christ; and at once it seemed to have fallen from him at the feet of his Redeemer.

three distinct states were noticed in Jolin's case before his execution. At first, as at this sit, he was fully confident that if he were once more to be set at liberty he should never again become intoxicated. Afterwards, when he came to discover the exceeding weakness of his nature, he dreaded the possibility of his life being accorded to him, lest he should again fall into temptation. And lastly, he learned to believe, that, having cast himself entirely upon Divine grace, and therefore, using those means of watchfulness and prayer which the word of God prescribes, he needed not fear, if he were called again to life, the temptation of drinking; if brought to the scaffold, the trials of that afflicting scene. That the blessing of God attended upon the last state of his mind, is proved by the courage, nay, the humble cheerfulness, with which he met his melancholy end. Jolin, after a long trial, was found guilty; and the friends who visited him judged that, after such anxious exertions and suffering, his mind would not be in a state to admit the quiet intercourse which they had desired to have with him. But he asked them to come and see him, and they accordingly went after the trial. They had expected at all events to find him, on this occasion, in some degree disturb ed and agitated in mind; but it was altogether otherwise. The irons to which he was sentenced were put on him in their presence, when they entered the prison. To this, as the consequence of his condemnation, he submitted almost without notice. Indeed, the trial and the condemnation itself seem to have made as little impression upon him as the irens which were put upon him; for it was only by minute and repeated inquiry as to the proceedings of the day that his friendly visiters could get him to give any account of them. His mind seemed absorbed in something else; and what this was, afterwards appeared. His conduct, during his trial, had been remarked by many of his judges as entirely becoming his awful situation. Indeed, his whole frame of mind was now beginning to show that a new principle was at work in it, and that the great work of regeneration was taking place. In the early part of his confinement, and indeed very recently, he had wished, as he might naturally, for his escape; and his cry to his advocate had been, "Save me from the gallows:" but at this period, the desire that his life might be spared seemed to be taken away from him in a most astonishing degree. It was not so with the very zealous and able advocate to whom his cause had been committed, and who very properly continued Monday, the 28th, was the day fixed for his to the end to urge every plea, and encourage second trial, and here he exhibited the charachis client to every effort, by which his punish-ter of a real Christian. His defence he had ment might be remitted, or even delayed. His friends too were most kindly anxious on this point; and they even attempted to prove him insane, that they might effect their purpose. Jolin might therefore act by their im pulse in his favour, as well as from the instinct which he could not but naturally feel. But to those who visited him about this period, he never once alluded to a desire to escape; but on the contrary, seemed almost always to refer to his sentence without apparent emotion; and towards the end, he appeared to long for, and to be carnest for, its completion. This state of mind was no doubt to be attributed to two causes; in part, to a complete acquaintance with the state of his own case, and that his sentence was scaled by his judges; but much more to his new state of religious feeling; by means of which the im

I have before noticed the indifference which Jolin appeared to feel to outward circumstances; I have yet to observe another point connected with it in this day's visit, which was the brightness and almost cheerfulness of aspect which his manner and countenance gradually assumed. In the period before his condemnation his downcast look and general air of wretchedness might have betokened a state of despair; but now he lifted up his head, and even his voice seemed to have changed its tone. This surprising change was observed by others. M. Hammond, Jolin's advocate, told M. Durel!, as he himself has recorded it in a tract which he published on the trial and execution, that when he saw the prisoner on the 27th of Sept. he found him "in really a distracted state, torn by every conflicting pas sion, and all his faculties hurried by the unutterable anguish of remorse. The dread of death was uppermost in his thoughts; and there was nothing to which he would not have submitted to avoid capital punishment: but when he saw him again on the evening of the 29th, he was astonished at the sudden and rapid change which had taken place in him; he was calm, placid, and resigned."

written before, and it was as follows:-" Gentlemen, whatever may be my fate, I shall not die without having to reproach myself for not having quitted my father's house. By so doing, I should have avoided being the victim in different unhappy affairs that often took place between my father and mother, in which I was generally the object upon which the weight of their discontent fell.-I was often obliged to submit to being beaten most severely, and to hear language unworthy of being uttered by either father or mother. Now, left to myself in the solitude of a dungeon, I reflect on times gone by, remembering that I was the only child, abandoned to the most deplorable fate. Yet I ought to have been wiser, and not followed the example of my nearer relations, the source of my misfortune. But now that respectable ministers of the Gospel have

taken the trouble to visit me, and point out my duty towards God and towards man, I rest contented. I pray to God to pardon the horrible, but never premeditated crime of which I am guilty. If I ever had an intention of killing my poor father, I had a very favourable opportunity of doing so, when he was stretched upon a bed of sickness, unable to help himself. I was then the only person who took care of him, and administered to his wants, as there was no other person besides myself in the house. I beg pardon of all those whom I may have willingly or unwillingly offended. Gentlemen, after this declaration, I submit myself entirely to your wisdom. It is you who are going to decide my fate. I am ready to meet it, and I will submit to your judgment without a murmur. PH. G. JOLIN."

It is said, that during his trial, his calmness was remarkable. His lips apparently were employed in prayer, and this he afterwards confessed was the case. He prayed for himself, that he might be strengthened to go through his trial, and also for his judges and his jury. There was no effrontery in his look; but, on the contrary, the appearance of deep humiliation. For four hours, during which time his trial lasted, he never lifted his eyes from the ground. On his return from the trial, he had to encounter the indignation of the populace against his crime. On the former occasion, a woman had cried "Ah, le scelerat!" which had a good deal affected him. This time he addressed the people from the prison gates, and when they observed that he was half dead from fatigue, he said, amongst other things, "I have a strength within me ye know not. This supports me. Weep not for me, weep for yourselves."

On the night previous to his execution, the kind relation who had first visited him in the prison, and brought him the first message of salvation, in bringing him the New Testament, and Mr. Gallachin, an excellent minister of the church, sat up with him.-They sang a hymn, and in the imperfection of the service he was led to say, "To-morrow I shall join in very different singing from this." At half past one in the morning, the prisoner, Mr. Durell reports from unquestionable authority, fell into a kind of dozing stupor for an hour, but did not sleep. During that time he was heard repeating the fifty-first Pealm without missing a word. Mr. Gallachin also heard him, during that period, say repeatedly, "Glory to the Lamb! glory to our Lord Jesus Christ!" And when he awoke, he said that he had seen glorious things in a dream, He also said, as they judged, in his sleep, "There is now, therefore, no condemnation for them that are in Christ Jesus." At waking he requested that a hymn might be sung to him. The next morning Mr. Hall went to him at half past six o'clock.-When he entered his cell, Jolin said, "Oh, Mr. Hall, I am so glad to see you; I am so happy. I have slept four hours, and the rest of the night we have spent in such delightful conversation. I feel so strong, but I will wait patiently the Lord's time." The day before, I have observed, he thought the hours passed slowly, he was so anxious to depart and be with Christ. Mr.

Hall took occasion to warn him that he had still a work to do. He must not only glorify his Saviour by his conduct, and by his patient resignation, but he must again speak a word of warning to those about him. And he assured him that he might be able to do more for the praise and honour of his Master in his death upon the scaffold, by bearing testimony to his own exceeding wickedness, and to the unsearchable mercy and love of Christ, than if he had died in a more private manner. To this he assented, and took the resolution of doing all in his power. "Great indeed," says Mr. Hall, "were the grace and support which he enjoyed. He felt sick at breakfast time, and could not eat; but to oblige me he said he would try. About nine o'clock his irons were taken off; and I could not help thinking of this

as symbolical of that liberty which soon, when passed beyond this life, he would enjoy for ever in the presence of his Saviour. Jolin immediately proposed to me to kneel down and thank God for what he had done for him; saying, 'I have always before prayed in bed; now I can go on my knees in the proper posture for a sinner.' Öh at this time how deep were his confessions of sin, committed both in thought, word, and deed; his acknowledgment of mercy through Jesus Christ; his expressions of dependence upon Him for grace, to keep him in his fiery trial, and to open for him the kingdom of heaven! When he drank his milk he said, 'Oh God, I thank thee that thou hast been so merciful and good to me, who have been so great a sinner!' His hand was never cold, and his pulse was always regular to the end. I never witnessed one to whom the Lord was pleased to give a stronger faith, which was proved by his conduct to the last. He sat calmly speaking and listening till about half past twelve; when he left the prison, leaning on me and Mr. Gallachin. An immense concourse of people presented itself at the prison gates; and their rush and noise were greater than we expected. The newspaper account says,-'He was calm and collected, walked with steadiness, and evinced throughout the most decorous firmness. We could not perceive that he trembled. His mind seemed quite absorbed in religious exercises; and, from all we can learn, there was good and satisfactory evidence that he was a true penitent, and relied on the divine mercy.' Mr. Durell says, "As he was leaving the gaol he was heard to repeat the fourth verse of the twenty-third Psalm, Yea, though I walk,' &c. Mr. Hall continues: "The noise of the people prevented my being heard by Jolin, who walked as firmly as myself; I therefore opened my hymn-book, and pointed out to him the sufficiency of the Redeemer, in one of those hymns which I had previously chosen for his perusal. The hymn chosen was one beginning"He lives, the great Redeemer lives! What joy the blest assurance gives! And now, before his Father, God, Pleads the full merit of his blood. "In every dark, distressful hour, When sin and Satan join their power, Let this dear hope repel the dart, That Jesus bears us on his heart." He told me, that he did not mind the people, that they were poor worms; that he would endeavour to warn them from the scaffold, for they were standing on the brink of the pit. We mounted the steepest part of the gallows hill. I think that a worse place of ascent could not have been chosen. When we arrived at the summit, the Greffier read his sentence aloud, and Mr. Gallachin prayed most fervently with him in French. After the prayer, he ascended the platform with Mr. Gallachin and myself, and addressed the people in French, as you will see by the account in the newspaper. But the account is deficient in one most essential point. He urged the people by the love of Christ, whom he had crucified, and "whom they were crucifying by their sins." The substance of his warnings was on the subject of intemperance, Sabbathbreaking, the neglect of God and of religion; and it was addressed principally to parents and to the young. These warnings he twice delivered; once before, and once after the rope was fastened round his neck." Although I do not accurately remember," Mr. Hall continues, "the words of any of his speeches, I can safely say, that he expressed his conviction that the work which had taken place in his heart had been effected by no power or will of his own, but by a sovereign act of Divine grace. Jolin then read aloud some verses from the Testament, which sufficiently indicate the view which he took both of the nature of his change, and of the source from whence it sprang. They are taken from 1 Pet. i. 35: "Blessed be the God and Father of our

Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last time." To these verses he was particularly partial. He then spoke to me, and told me that he had full confidence in the sufficiency of the blood of Christ to blot out all his sins; and that he who had loved him so much as to shed his blood for him, and had kept him to that hour steadfast and immoveable, would receive him into glory. When the cap was drawn over his face, I told him not to dread the momentary pain, for soon he would be in the presence of his Saviour. He pressed my hand, and said he was not afraid; for he knew that He would take him unto himself. I told him that I would pray that his sufferings might be short, and went down." Mr. Gal lachin then read a part of the Burial Service, until the fatal moment. His sufferings appeared not to be great, and were of brief dura

tion.

"Whilst I was in prayer," Mr. Hall adds "the drop fell, and our poor brother I knew had entered into the presence of his Redeemer. The women around me screamed out, "The Lord have mercy upon his poor soul!" I could not but pray that their souls might find the same mercy. He died without a struggle. I never saw him after I pressed his hand when alive, as I ascended the hill through the crowd, and was spared seeing his

mortal remains."

Thus ended the course of a young man, whose history stands an example, not only of the awful effects of a bad education, of the wretchedness and reward of sin, but also of the wonderful grace and mercy of God. Much of what has been narrated may appear almost incredible to some readers; and many especially who are justly suspicious of deathbed repentances, may be led still to doubt how far the work of this young man's conversion was complete, and whether, if he had been permitted to live, he would have lived as he has died. If, however, he was really converted to God, the observation which he made himself must be applied to his own case: "The man that is fit to die is fit to live." The same grace which brought him into the fold of Christ, would have kept him in all his way; so that the enemy of his soul should not have overpowered him. The grace of God could alone do the work in either case. And there is, as before mentioned, the most remarkable concurrence of testimony as to Jolin's state at the time of his death. Not only Mr. Hall, and Mr. Gallachin, and many others, bear witness to the facts; but the public voice has declared the wonderful change which took place in him. And even one who was not a believer in revelation, but who stood by Jolin on the gallows hill and witnessed his conduct, came to a minister, and acknowledged, that "there must be something in religion to support a man in such a manner; and that he had therefore determined to attend a place of worship, and to bring up his children in the fear of God." Mr. Hall says, "I have never had a doubt on my mind as to the reality of the change. His conduct in the court; his complete deadness to the things of time and sense, and this even when his friends seemed so anxious to save him from an ignominious death, were so many pleasing testimonies that he was really risen with Christ, and that his affections were set upon things above. God did indeed work mightily in him: though last, he was one of the first. He seemed so convinced of sin, and to have such simple dependence upon the truth and firm foundation of Christ's promises, and he showed so abundantly that these feelings were not merely talked into his head, that I always returned delighted with my visit to him. I used to pray instantly with him that he might not be deceiving himself,

nor be deceived by Satan, or any of us; and I can say, as far as I was capable of judging, that his was a real work of Divine grace."

[From the Friend.]

DR. JOHN D. GODMAN. THE late Dr. John D. Godman was in many respects an interesting and uncommon personage. His natural endowments were great, and the success with which he cultivated them amidst very numerous obstacles and discourage. ments was truly admirable. He was born at Annapolis in Maryland, and had the misfortune to lose both his parents at an early age. His father, who had been wealthy, lost the greater part of his estate before his death, and the remainder was wrested from his children by the mismanagement of those to whom it was entrusted. Thrown thus upon the world with no resources but his own talents and industry, young Godman was bound apprentice to a printer in Baltimore. He remained at the business for a few years, but as he had not chosen it himself, and as his dislike towards it increas ed with time, he determined to abandon it. He therefore left his master in the fall of 1813, and entered as a sailor on board the Flotilla, which was then stationed in the Chesapeake bay for the protection of its coasts and harbours. It was, while in this situation, that an incident occurred, which has already been related in the public prints, and to which he himself attributed much of the buoyancy and ener gy of his character. A raw sailor who had been sent aloft by the captain, and was busy in performing some duty which required him to stoop, was observed to falter and become dizzy,

Look aloft, cried the captain, and the fainting landsman, as he instinctively obeyed the. order, recovered his strength and steadiness. The young philosopher read a moral in this trifling incident which he never forgot, and which frequently animated and aroused him in the 'most adverse circumstances. It is not treating the subject with undue levity to add, that in the last and closing scene of his life, when the earth was receding from his view, and his failing strength admonished him of his peril, the watchword was still ringing in his ear. At that awful period he "looked aloft" to "worlds beyond the skies," and therein derived strength and hope which supported him in his passage through the narrow valley.

At the close of the war, young Godman, who was then about fifteen, was allowed to follow the strong bent of his mind, and commenced the study of medicine with a physician in Lancaster, Pa. He soon removed to Baltimore, where he entered the office of a highly respectable physician, and pursued his studies with such eagerness and success, and gave such promise of future eminence, that before the expiration of his term he was selected to supply for a few weeks the place of his preceptor, who was the professor of anatomy in the uni versity of Maryland, and who was disabled by the fracture of a limb, from completing his winter's course. The youthful deputy lectured with such enthusiasm and eloquence, and his illustrations were so clear and happy, that strong and unequivocal expressions of regret, it is said, were manifested by the students when he yielded up his post to his preceptor.

Soon after receiving his diploma, Dr. Godman settled as a practitioner of medicine, at the spot described with so much truth and beauty in his Rambles of a Naturalist. He there became engaged in laborious practice, and devoted all his intervals of leisure to the acquirement of general and professional knowledge. Finding the sphere of action too contracted for his powers, he removed to Baltimore, where he married, and being offered the chair of anatomy in the medical school then about to be established in Cincinnati, he was induced to emigrate thither. The school did not succeed, and after remaining there a year, Dr. Godman returned homeward, and settled in Philadelphia, as a physician and private

Providence to heal his mortal wound, and prolong his life and strength, he would have borne away the palm from all his contemporaries.

teacher of anatomy. He was also for some time the editor of Dr. Chapman's Medical Journal. It was during this residence here that he published his Natural History of Ame- It is not meant to assert that his scientific rican Quadrupeds, a work which is deservedly works are faultless, or that his claims to oripopular. The fame of Dr. Godman as a teach-ginality were always well founded; but whater of anatomy was now widely spread, and he ever he has written bears the stamp of great was solicited to accept the professorship of that vigour and originality, and his errors were branch of medicine in the Rutger's Medical those of inexperience or of a hasty judgment, College at New York. He removed thither, which time and study would have corrected. and the clouds which had so long darkened his career, seemned at last to be breaking away. His practice soon became extensive, and the affairs of the college prosperous, when, in the midst of his second course of lectures, a severe cold settled on his lungs, accompanied by a copious hemorrhage, and compelled him to abandon his pursuits and to flee for his life to a milder region. He sailed for the island of Santa Cruz, where he passed the remainder of the winter and the spring, and returned home, cheered but not cured, by the influence of that balmy climate. After his return, Dr. Godman settled in Germantown, where for a while his disease seemed to be mitigated, and his friends flattered themselves that his life was yet to be spared to science and his country. His complaints were, however, beyond the reach of art to overcome, and he continued, though with many fluctuations, to decline in strength. He removed to this city during the autumn of 1829, and after passing the following winter and spring in great weakness, and often great suffering, died, on the 17th of fourth month last, in the 32d year of his age.

The great characteristics of Dr. Godman's mind, were his retentive memory, an unwearied industry and quick perception, and his capacity of concentrating all his powers upon any given object of pursuit. What he had once read or observed, he rarely, if ever, forgot. Hence it was, that although his early education was much neglected, he became an excellent linguist, and made himself master of Latin, French, and German, besides acquiring a knowledge of Greek, Italian and Spanish. He had read the best works in all these languages, and wrote with facility the Latin and French.

His powers of observation were quick, patient, keen and discriminating; and it was these qualities that rendered him so admirable a naturalist. He came to the study of natural history as an investigator of facts, and not as a pupil of the schools; and while he regarded systems and nomenclature with perhaps too little respect, his great aim was to learn the instincts, the structure and the habits of all animated beings. This science was his favourite pursuit, and he devoted himself to it with indefatigable zeal. He has been heard to say, that in investigating the habits of the shrew mole, he walked many hundred miles. Those parts of his natural history in which he relates the results of his own observation, are among the most interesting essays on that subject in our language. This praise is due in a still greater degree to his Rambles of a Naturalist, which are not inferior in poetical beauty and vivid and accurate description, to the celebrated Letters of Gilbert White on the Natural History of Selbourne. These cssays were among the last productions of his pen, and were written in the intervals of acute pain and extreme debility. They form a mere sketch of what he intended, and had he have lived to complete them, he would have left a work and a name of enduring popularity.

There were few subjects of general literature excepting the pure and mixed mathematics, with which Dr. Godman was not more or less familiar. Among other pursuits to which his attention had been turned, was the study of ancient coins, of which he had acquired a critical knowledge.

The powers of his mind were always buoyant. His eagerness in the pursuit of knowledge seemed like the impulse of gnawing hunger and unquenchable thirst. Neither adversity nor discage could allay it, and had it pleased

His fame however rested chiefly during his life, upon his success as a teacher of anatomy; and in this capacity he raised himself at once to the top of his profession. He was so intent upon making his students understand him, and he was so fully master of the subject himself, that his clear and animated flow of elo. quence never failed to rivet their attention, and he became whenever he taught the idol of his pupils. His lectures upon anatomy were real analytical experiments. The subject was placed before the class-tissue, and muscle, and blood-vessel, and nerve, and bone, were laid bare in turn-their use and position and nature exemplified to the eye, and enforced by the most lively and precise description, while the student was at the same time receiving the most valuable lessons in practical dissection. I have never known an individual to attend one of these courses and not receive the most profound impression of Dr. Godman's unrivalled ability as a teacher.

His social and moral character was marked by the same traits of force, enthusiasm, and simplicity, as his intellectual. He was ardently devoted to his friends, and if his sense of injustice and wrong was too keen for his happiness, he learned in the school of adversity to control, if not subdue it. His conversation was the unstudied and spontaneous effusion of a mind full to overflowing, always buoyant, imaginative and ardent, loving truth above all things else, and devoting itself as on an altar to her sacred course.

Upon all this bright attainment and brighter promise for the future the grave is closed!Divine Providence saw fit to arrest him in the midst of his unfinished labours, and we must turn to contemplate the character of our lamented friend in a different light.

It had been his misfortune that his philosophical opinions were formed originally in the school of the French naturalists. Many of the most distinguished of these men were avowed atheists, and a still greater number rejected absolutely the Christian revelation. Such is human nature! Surrounded by the most magnificent displays of Almighty wisdom, placed on a scene where all things speak of God and invite us to worship and obey Him -a purblind philosophy may devote herself to the study of his works, yet pass by the evidence they convey of his existence and his attributes, and see nothing in all this wonderful creation, more noble than the mere relations of colour and form! The manliness and sincerity of Dr. Godman's character soon extricated him from this "stye of Epicurus." He was in all things a seeker of the truth, and his philosophical spirit would not rest satisfied with any superficial examination. He applied himself to the study of the New Testamenthe went to "the fountain head, where the pure waters of life gush forth in silent profusion, and in their profoundest depths exhibit neither shade nor opacity." In what temper and with what success he examined the sacred volume, the following extracts which were written during his last illness will bear witness.

"Is proof wanting that these gospels are true? It is only necessary for an honest mind to read them candidly to be convinced. Every occurrence is stated clearly, simply, and unostentatiously. The narrations are not supported by asseverations of their truth, nor by parade of witnesses: the circumstances described took place in presence of vast multitudes, and are told in that downright unpretending manner, which would have called forth

innumerable positive contradictions had they been untrue. Mysteries are stated without attempt at explanation, because explanation is not necessary to establish the existence of facts, however mysterious. Miracles, also, attested by the presence of vast numbers, are stated in the plainest language of narration, in which the slightest working of imagination cannot be traced. This very simplicity, this unaffected sincerity and quiet affirmation, has more force than a thousand witnesses-more efficacy than volumes of ambitious effort to support truth by dint of argumentation.

:

"What motive could the evangelists have to falsify? The Christian kingdom is not of this world nor in it; Christianity teaches disregard of its vanities, depreciates its honours and enjoyments, and sternly declares that none can be Christians but those who escape from its vices and allurements. There is no call directed to ambition-no gratification proposed to vanity the sacrifice of self; the denial of all the propensities which relate to the gratification of passion or pride, with the most humble dependence upon God, are invariably taught and most solemnly enjoined, under penalty of the most awful consequences! Is it then wonderful that such a system should find revilers? Is it surprising that sceptics should abound, when the slightest allowance of belief would force them to condemn all their actions? Or, is it to be wondered at, that a purity of life and conversation, so repugnant to human passions, and a humility so offensive to human pride, should be opposed, rejected, and contemned? Such is the true secret of the opposition to religion; such the cause inducing men who lead unchristian lives, to array the frailties, errors, weakness, and vices of individuals or sects, against Christianity, hoping to weaken or destroy the system, by rendering ridiculous or contemptible those who profess to be governed by its influence, though their conduct shows them to be acting under an opposite spirit.

"What is the mode in which this most extraordinary doctrine of Christianity is to be diffused? By force-temporal power-temporal rewards-earthly triumphs? None of these. By earnest persuasion, gentle entreaty, brotherly monition, paternal remonstrance. The dread resort of threatened punishment comes last-exhibited in sorrow, not in anger; told as a fearful truth, not denounced with vindictive exultation; while, to the last moment, the beamy shield of mercy is ready to be interposed for the saving of the endangered.

"Human doctrines are wavering and mutable: the doctrines of the blessed and adorable Jesus, our Saviour, are fixed and immutable. The traditions of men are dissimilar and inconsis

tent; the declarations of the gospel are harmonious, not only with each other, but with the acknowledged attributes of the Deity, and the well known condition of human na

ture.

"What do sceptics propose to give us in exchange for this system of Christianity, with its hidden mysteries,' 'miracles,'' signs and wonders?' Doubt, confusion, obscurity, annihilation! Life, without higher motive than selfishness: death-without hope! Is it for this that their zeal is so warmly displayed in proselyting? Is such the gain to accrue for the relinquishment of our souls? In very deed, this is the utmost they have to propose, and we can only account for their rancorous efforts to render others like themselves, by reflecting that misery loves company."

A conviction thus deeply impressed, did not spend itself in empty profession. It influenced his conduct as well as his opinions, and prepared him for that patient endurance of suffering which he exhibited during his long confinement. After his removal to Germantown, Dr. Godman's complaints soon assumed a more serious aspect, and he suffered severely from several violent attacks of disease. Yet the progress of the disorder was very gradual, and allowed him many intervals of comparative ease. He returned to his literary labours with

And riotous rebellion 'gainst the laws Of health, truth, heaven, to win the world's applause!

dened heart,

Till mercy spoke, and death unsheathed the dart,

His principal delight was in the promises and consolations of the Bible, which was his constant companion. On one occasion, a few days before his death, while reading aloud from the New Testament to his family, his voice faltered, and he was desired to read no longer, as it appeared to oppress him. "It is not that," replied he, "but I feel so in the immediate presence of my Maker, that I cannot control my emotion."

In a manuscript volume which he sent to a highly valued friend, and which he intended to fill with original pieces of his own composi

tion, he wrote as follows:

"Did I not in all things feel most thoroughly convinced that the overruling of our plans by an allwise Providence is always for good, I might regret that a part of my plan cannot be executed. This was to relate a few curious incidents from among the events of my most singularly guided life, which, in addition to mere novelty or peculiarity of character, could not have failed practically to illustrate the importance of inculcating correct religious and moral principles, and imbuing the mind therowith from the very earliest dawn of intellect, from the very moment that the utter imbecility of infancy begins to disappear! May HIS holy will be done, who can raise up abler advocates to support the truth!" "This is my first attempt to write in my token-why may it not be the last? Oh! should it be, believe me, that the will of God will be most acceptable. Notwithstanding the life of neglect, sinfulness, and perversion of heart, which I so long led, before it pleased Him to dash all my idols in the dust, I feel a humble hope in the boundless mercy of our blessed Lord and Saviour,

who alone can save the soul from merited condemnation. May it be in the power of those who chance to read these lines, to say, Into thy hands I commend my spirit, for thou hast redeemed me! oh Lord! thou God of Truth!"

The fine imagination and deep enthusiasm of Dr. Godman occasionally burst forth in impassioned poetry. He wrote verse and prose with almost equal facility, and had he lived and enjoyed leisure to prune the exuberance of his style, and to bestow the last polish upon his labours, he would have ranked as one of the great masters of our language, both in regard to the curious felicity, and the strength and clearness of his diction. The following specimens of his poetical compositions, are sclected less for their intrinsic excellence, than for the picture which they furnish of his pri

vate meditations.

A MIDNIGHT MEDITATION.

'Tis midnight's solemn hour! now wide unfurled

Darkness expands her mantle o'er the world; The fire-fly's lamp has ceased its fitful gleam; The cricket's chirp is hushed; the boding

scream

Of the gray owl is stilled; the lofty trees Scarce wave their summits to the failing breeze;

All nature is at rest, or seems to sleep;
'Tis thine alone, oh man! to watch and weep!
Thine 'tis to feel thy system's sad decay,
As fares the taper of thy life away
Beneath the influence of fell disease:-
Thine 'tis to know the want of mental ease
Springing from memory of time misspent;
Of slighted blessings; deepest discontent

Twanged his unerring bow, and drove the steel,

Too deep to be withdrawn, too wide the wound to heal;

Yet left of life a feebly glimmering ray,
Slowly to sink and gently ebb away.
-And, yet, how blest am I?
While myriad others lie

In agony of fever or of pain,
With parching tongue and burning eye,
Or fiercely throbbing brain;
My feeble frame, though spoiled of rest,
Is not of comfort dispossest.
My mind awake, looks up to thee,
Father of mercy! whose blest hand I see
In all things acting for our good,
Howe'er thy mercies be misunderstood.
-See where the waning moon
Slowly surmounts yon dark tree tops,
Her light increases steadily, and soon
The solemn night her stole of darkness drops:
Thus to my sinking soul in hours of gloom,
The cheering beams of hope resplendent come,
Thus the thick clouds which sin and sorrow

couch on which genius, and virtue, and learn ing thus lay prostrated, beamed with more hallowed lustre, and taught a more salutary les son than could have been imparted by the proudest triumphs of intellect. The memory of Dr. Godman, his blighted promise, and his unfinished labours, will long continue to call forth the vain regrets of men of science and learning. There are those who treasure up in their hearts as a more precious recollection, his humble faith and his triumphant death, and who can meet with an eye of pity, the scornful glance of the scoffer, and the infidel, at being told that if Dr. Godman was a philosopher, he was also a Christian.

[From the Journal of Health.] INFANCY.

INFANCY has been called the spring-time of life; and, certes, the comparison is a just one. The alternate sunshine and shower, and shifting breezes of a vernal day, are fit emblems of the rapid transition from smiles to tears, from playfulness to angry passion, in the young being. As the spring gives promise of the flowers of summer and the fruits of autumn, so does infancy exhibit those traits out of which we picture the youth and future man. Exuberance, is the leading characteristic both of the age and the season: and hence the watchful care required of those who would superintend the growth in either case-to repress rank luxuriance, and give to the several parts in the economy of each, that bias and direction, which it is desired they should take at a more advanced period. Noxious weeds are now to be destroyed, either by immediate eradication; or if this should endanger the germs of good and profitable plants near them, they must be more gradually restrained in their growth, until they finally wither and decay. So it is with the more evil propensities of human nature,-they must be early checked in their display, until, by forced quiescence, they cease to possess a Lines written under a feeling of the immediate dangerous activity, and become nearly harmapproach of Death.

rear

Are changed to brightness, or swift disappear. Hark! that shrill note proclaims approaching day;

The distant east is streaked with lines of gray; Faint warblings from the neighbouring groves arise,

The tuneful tribes salute the brightening skies. Peace breathes around; din visions o'er me creep,

The weary night outwatched, thank God! I too may sleep.

"Rather

Beneath the above stanzas in the manuscript alluded to, is the following note. more than a year has elapsed since the above was first written. Death is now certainly nearer at hand; but my sentiments remain unchanged, except that my reliance on the Saviour is stronger."

This reliance on the mercies of God through Christ Jesus, became indeed the habitual frame of his mind; and imparted to the closing scenes of his life a solemnity and a calmness, a sweet serenity, and a holy resignation, which robbed death of its sting, and the grave of its victory. It was a melancholy sight to witness the premature extinction of such a spirit; yet the dying

less.

In infancy and adolescence the fluids abound and circulate with great rapidity; and are directed to all parts, for their growth and increase. So constant is this expansion, that if it be at all retarded in one direction, it is increased in another-and hence irregularity of distribution is soon followed by deformity. Curtail the freedom of a child's movements by

allowing or keeping one side bent, and the other

is soon bowed out to undue size-let a ligature be applied on a limb, or round any other part of the body, so as to prevent the growth beneath, and the portion above will be in excess, and adverse to symmetry. Just as when we notch a tree, by peeling off a circle of the bark, or surrounding a branch with a band so tight as to prevent the passage of the sap, the parts above wither, but immediately beneath the band or notch there is an excrescence-a

rough bulging ring-a true vegetable deformiof the most rapid growth and abundant in ty. As the gardener is well aware, that plants juices, are the shortest lived-most readily nipped by frost, or parched by the sun,-80 ought a parent to be aware, that a child of the fleshiest habit, most abundant in blood and other fluids, is far from being the most robust or exempt from the common causes of disease. How criminal then must be the conduct of those who treat the young being like a hothouse plant, and force it, by much and stimulating food and indulgence of all its senses, to premature development of body and precocity of thought. By such conduct they make a pigmy, which may at first astonish us, but from which we soon turn in disgust, to contemplate human nature, in the full and enlarged possession of those physical and mental endowments, which time and an assiduous cultivation of the faculties can alone bestow.

It is in early life, in the tender years of infancy, that we must countervail the tendency to hereditary disease, whether it consists in eorporeal deformity or mental obliquity. Im