his friends. The stroke was heavy, but He who in- I flicted it supported Mrs Winslow under its severity. For some time she was unable to write, but at length we find her thus giving vent to her feelings in a letter to her mother : removed, one after another, your earthly comforts, until, perhaps, you feel that you are almost desolate, and that the sources of consolation below are nearly dried up; but has not heavenly consolation descended into your soul, in proportion as creature comforts have failed? I doubt not that this has been the case, and that "I feel that I must begin another letter to you, you are still able to say, 'It is good for me that I have though it will be but a beginning; as it is now ten been afflicted.' How trying, in your widowed state, to o'clock, and we are a family of invalids. I have written look upon our dear Charles only when nature was failbut a few lines since the intelligence reached us, that ing, or when he was laid out for the tomb! After all our beloved Charles had so early finished his course; your hopes and expectations of clasping often to your not, my dear mother, that I loved you or others less, arms the first-born of your beloved Harriet, and of or that I had nothing to say, but because it is not easy seeing your eldest daughter in her eldest child, how tryto clothe in language the heart's deep sorrow. I never ing the disappointment! Yet you could say, 'It is well, felt the chastening hand of God so heavy upon me; for the Lord hath done it.' And what Providence is though I trust I can say, It is good for me that I have there, however trying-however it may wither and been afflicted.' It was a seasonable warning. I am blast our hopes, and scathe our very hearts-concerning thankful that our heavenly Father thus graciously which, as the will of God, we cannot say, 'It is well?' aroused me; that he did not leave me to be wholly Yet, alas! we are weak; and unless supported from on engrossed by my dear earthly ones, but reminded me high, there are dispensations of Providence which we that this is not my rest. My earnest desire and prayer cannot bear. We sink beneath great waters. Such an is, that he will draw me to Himself, and fix my wanaffliction has come upon me; and such, my dearly be dering heart upon Him who is the chiefest among ten loved mother, has come upon you. We are mutually thousand.' Had I chosen the form of discipline, it and most deeply afflicted; for your and my beloved would have been different, but doubtless this is best. Harriet is gone! Yes; the wife of my youth-the partMay it accomplish all for which it was sent! It would ner of all my joys and sorrows-the mother of my three have been a great comfort to have had our dear boy see (now motherless) children is gone. That tender, that and know his grandinother. Indeed, as it was the will most affectionate heart, has ceased to beat; and all her of God to remove him, this was almost our only regret. anxious cares concerning those whom she loved as her But we are thankful that he reached our dear friends, own soul, are over. She has passed the Jordan, and is, and did not sicken and die among strangers, or at sea. I doubt not, in the heavenly Canaan, rejoicing with joy His journal, and all that we hear of him, are just what unspeakable and full of glory. She is now in that world we should expect just like himself. How kind in our of spirits bright,' where no sin or sorrow can enter. compassionate Saviour, so to comfort his heart, when it My dear afflicted mother, do not mourn, but rejoice. was sorrowful on board ship! Often had he been re- Our too dear Harriet is with her Saviour, whom she minded, that he must go to Him with every sorrow and loved better than all here; though she loved us very every difficulty; and many unworthy prayers were offermuch. ed, that He who took little children in his arms, and blessed them, would comfort this lowly one. I have many precious recollections of seasons of prayer and conversation with him, and am thankful that there was so much pleasant and desirable in his character; and, for our comforting belief, that now,' as little Edward Spaulding says, 'his head has a beautiful crown upon it,' and that he has entered upon the joys of heaven. It is consoling to think of one so dear having escaped the pollutions of the world, and joined the company of heaven. There, we hope, are five of our little ones. Surely we have reason to think of our treasure above." The death of her son Charles seems to have made a very deep impression upon Mrs Winslow's mind. From the date at which the intelligence reached her, she evidently looked forward more steadily to her own departure as not far distant. In the beginning of 1833, as she was then near her confinement, this presentiment of her approaching death was remarkably strong. All the concerns of the mission with which she was intrusted, she carefully arranged. A paper of hints was left in reference to the rearing of her children, and also a farewell letter to her husband. These arrangements, it was too soon apparent, were not in vain. Death was at hand. On the evening of Saturday the 12th of January, she was able to write a little in her Diary, but still she was not quite well. The next day was Sabbath, and to her it was the last Sabbath she was permitted to spend upon earth. It will be more interesting to our readers, however, that the closing scene should be recorded in the language of her bereaved husband, who thus writes, in a letter addressed to Mrs Winslow's mother in America: "The Lord has often come very near unto you, and "But I must give you a few particulars. On Sunday she was somewhat ill, but went to Church both forenoon and afternoon. I tried rather to dissuade her from going in the afternoon, and she at first concluded to stay at home; but, as the children wished it, she went, and seemed comfortable. On her return, she was a little fatigued, and lay down a short time on the bed; after which she rose and went down to tea. We then had family prayers. I read the forty-sixth Psalm, and made some remarks upon it, which appeared to interest her; and we conversed on the privilege of casting all our burdens upon the Lord. Afterwards she went to her room, heard the little girls repeat their hymns and lessons, and directed their devotions for the night. her room. "I went out to my study; but not being so well as usual, came in early. Finding the door of her room shut, and having a sick headache, I lay down on a couch, This was very unusual for me, and caused her to inquire a little anxiously about my health when she came from She said, I cannot bear to see you so unwell;' and soon added, I do not feel so well myself: I have a peculiar sensation in my breast.' I requested her to be as quiet as possible, and recommended that she should take a little laudanum, and lie down. She did so, and went to sleep; but in a short time awoke, feeling the same distress in her breast. I then immediately she was about to be confined. sent for Dr Scudder and Mrs Spaulding, supposing that She was partially relieved of the distress by turns, but continued very uneasy, and unable to rest in any position. She frequently requested me to pray for her. Dr Scudder came about two o'clock in the morning: he said that she had better be bled, and take a little more laudanum, and she would probably be relieved. He bled her freely, and she also vomited. This relieved her; so that she lay down quietly, and said that she felt quite at ease. She took a little coffee; and before she went to sleep, called me (as Mrs Spaulding was taking care of her,) and insisted on my lying down on the couch, on account of my being unwell, saying, at the same time, Do you know, my dear, how good it is to be perfectly at ease after severe pain?' I said, 'You feel thankful.' Her reply was, Yes, I think I do. How good is the Lord!' She then very pleasantly bade me good-night, and fell quietly asleep. This was probably the last she knew on earth. After a short time, Mrs S. noticed a peculiarity in her breathing, and attempted to wake her. As she did not succeed, she called Dr S. and myself; but, as the sleep was quiet and pulse regular, there seemed to be no danger. We again left the room; but were soon called back to notice some slight twitches of the eyes and face, which were, ere long, followed by a convulsive fit. We were then greatly alarmed, and Dr S. used every exertion to prevent a recurrence of the spasms. All was without success; and, after two or three returns of the convulsions, the breath of my beloved wife grew shorter and shorter, and, a little before six o'clock on Monday morning, the 14th instant, without a struggle or a groan, she resigned her spirit. "The funeral took place at five o'clock, P. M., of the same day. We sang at the house, Why should we mourn departing friends,' &c.; and at the grave, ‘Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb,' &c.; and I believe all felt that they expressed our sentiments, our feelings, and our hopes. The mortal remains were deposited in the Church near those of our dear George:-thus was one babe by the side, and one in the arms, of the fond mother; and the spirits of six are, I trust, with her before the throne. Oh! how she loved them; how she prayed for them; how assured was she of their final salvation! She was indeed a precious mother, as well as wife and Missionary. name. "Our departed Harriet had for the last few months been fast ripening for heaven; especially since we heard of Charles' death. How severe was that stroke! But what rich blessings did it bring! It made her lean more entirely on her Saviour. She had, under that affliction, new and peculiar evidence of the life of faith in her soul. On Saturday evening she expressed her feelings in her Diary; and on Sabbath noon renewed her covenant with God a covenant made twenty-five years ago. This was her finishing work. It was the last time she signed her As she had no opportunity for preparation after she became ill, it is most gratifying and consoling that she left these last memorials of her unwavering trust in God. She had, in every respect, set her house in order,' as though she fully anticipated being thus removed, almost in an instant, from all these scenes. But I did not at all expect, nor was I at all prepared for the shock. Much had I anticipated my own death; little had I thought that the desire of my eyes would be taken away as with a stroke. Yet it has been done by the hand of a Father; I dare not, I cannot murmur. I bless His holy name, that he took my beloved so gently, and that she met the enemy without knowing of his approach, for he was disarmed." Thus was the Ceylon Mission deprived of one of its most efficient members, and the Church of Christ of a bright ornament. It is pleasing, however, to reflect, that since the death of this devoted female, two of her sisters have become connected by marriage with the same mission, and are labouring on the very spot where the remains of Mrs Winslow are laid. This circumstance will serve to explain an allusion in the latter part of the following tribute to the memory of the deceased, from the able pen of Mrs Sigourney, who had been her early friend and companion : Thy name hath power like magic. The page so often conn'd, the needle's task Of the pent river through its rocky pass, Our violet gatherings 'mid the vernal banks.- I little deem'd 'Mid all that gay and gentle fellowship, I saw thee stand PRIZE FOR AN ESSAY ON CHRISTI AN MISSIONS. IT affords us, and we are sure it will afford our readers, the highest pleasure to be informed, that a number of Christians in the west of Scotland have resolved to offer a prize of two hundred guineas for the best, and fifty guineas for the second best, Essays on Christian Missions. Every intelligent believer must be aware that the Church of Christ, as a whole, has been sadly negligent in the discharge of the great duty of communicating the blessings of the Gospel to the heathen world. Though the Church of Scotland, from a very early period in her history, manifested a fine missionary spirit, and though Scotland, as a whole, at the present day, perhaps raises as large a proportional sum, according to her population and her wealth, for sending the Gospel abroad, as any other part of the empire, still have all Churches much reason to be humbled in the presence of their Lord, when it is remembered how little is done compared with their obligations, and the mighty necessities of the case. Therefore do we rejoice in every scheme which promises, by directing many influential minds to the subject, ultimately to deepen and enlarge the public interest in Christian Missions. Such prizes as those to which we refer seem eminently calculated to promote this object. The distinguished auspices under which the scheme appears, the high character of the adjudicators, the Catholic spirit of the whole design, and the Christian zeal of the contributors, must all, we are persuaded, recommend the undertaking to every Christian mind, and especially to those classes whose influence is likely to be most beneficial. Particulars and details may be learned from the advertisements, which have been widely circulated, and to which we direct the attention of our readers. We subjoin the following extract from the prospectus : "During the last forty years, many excellent sermons, tracts, and pamphlets, have appeared on the subject of Missions to the Heathen; but the want of a comprehensive work, embracing all the topics directly and collaterally involved in the general theme, has long been felt, and very generally acknowledged. It has occurred to a few friends of the Missionary enterprise in Scotland, that this desideratum in our Christian literature might be supplied by means of friendly competition, were the theme of Missions proposed as the subject of a Prize Essay. Dispensing for the present with a consideration of the causes that may instrumentally have retarded the progress of Christianity throughout the world, and with the investigation of the most approved methods of practically conducting Missions abroad, a Prize of Two Hundred Guineas is hereby offered for the best Essay; and another Prize of Fifty Guineas for the second best Essay, on the Duty, Privilege, and Encouragement of Christians, to send the Gospel of Salvation to the unenlightened Nations of the Earth. The grand object of Missions, viz., the regeneration of a lost world, through the all-sufficient atonement of the Lord our Righteousness, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost, must be distinctly unfolded, and vindicated from the Sacred Scriptures. The duty, privilege, &c., must be illustrated, as enjoined and recommended by divine commands, evangelical motives, and explicit prophecies, as well as the beneficial effects of Christianity on the civilization of the world, and the reflex influence of the Missionary enterprise in improving the spiritual tone and condition of the reformed Churches. Under the head of Duty must be comprehended the obligation to advance the kingdom of the Redeemer, by means of prayer, counsel, pecuniary contribution, and personal services. Answers must also be furnished to all the most plausible objections that have from time to time been urged against the cause of Missions. In the preceding verses we find our Saviour assuring those who had long persisted in sin and unbelief, that the voice from heaven, in answer to his prayer, had come "for their sakes;" and when they withstood even that sign with which they had often professed they would be satisfied, he exhorted and beseeched them, in the most affectionate and earnest manner, to "believe in the light, that they might still be the children of the light." Taking all circumstances into account, there never was a case in which divine patience was more signally exemplified than in that of the Jews; but throughout the whole of the Sacred Volume the same views are presented of God's dealings with the children of men; and manifold examples are set before us of the like forbearance towards obstinate transgressors. The design of this can hardly be mistaken: it is to lead to repentance, and assures the most guilty, that if they "take with them words, and turn unto the Lord, he will receive them graciously." But on many it produces an opposite effect. They presume on this goodness and long-suffering. Because God has been pleased to represent himself as so placable and merciful, so gracious and compassionate, and ready to forgive, they take encouragement to continue in the ways of sin, and have their fill, so to speak, of the pleasures of unrighteousness, in the belief that it can never be too late to repent, but that grace and pardon are sure to be found at whatever time they may feel their need of them. Now, my friends, it would be easy to show you from the same divine Word, which contains so many assurances of mercy, that, in reasoning thus, they delude themselves, that God will not "always strive" with the wicked, that his patience has its limits, although it is great, and that there is an "accepted time," which, if allowed to pass unimproved, will leave the sinner exposed to the heaviest of all judgments,-that of being "let alone." But without going farther, the passage before us will be sufficient for the purpose; for in giving an account of the close of our Lord's ministry on earth, and the result of it with reference to those amongst whom he had laboured, it presents us with an instance of this very judg ment falling on a people who had long rejected the offers of salvation, and despised the riches of God's "goodness, and forbearance, and longsuffering." I. Let us then attend to what we are told in the thirty-seventh verse: "But though he had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on him." Here we have their sin, and the aggravation of it. Their sin was, that they did not believe on Jesus; the aggravating circumstances by which it was accompanied were, that "he had wrought so many miracles before them." The word in the original translated "so many," signifies either "so many or "so great,” and, in both senses, it is strictly applicable to the miracles of Christ. In number they had been many, and in the power that they exhibited they had been truly great. He had gone about constantly doing good, giving sight to the blind, soundness to the lame, hearing to the deaf, health to the diseased, life to the dead; and to form an idea of the number of his miracles, we must think not merely of those which are specified in the Gospel history, for these are but a few selected from the many, but of those which are referred to without being specified, in such passages as the following: "And his fame went out throughout all Syria, and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them." "Great multitudes followed him, and he healed them all.". From these general intimations, which represent him as healing multitudes at once, we | may fancy how many his miracles must have been. And they were not less remarkable for the power which they exhibited. Great they might truly be said to be, for they showed his dominion over the whole of nature. The fig-tree withered under his curse, the waves of the ocean fell at his rebuke, the howling tempest was hushed into a calm when he uttered the command,-" Peace, be still," and the spirit that had fled from its earthly tabernacle returned at his bidding to re-animate the clay. These were mighty works in themselves; and in what manner were they performed? Always in a moment, without the use of any means, or if means were used, they were such as could be only designed to show that no means were required. By a touch, by a word, when absent as well as when present, was the effect produced. And the effect was always a gracious one. His miracles were all miracles of mercy, and such as filled the hearts of the children of men, not with terror, but with joy. He had done these wonderful works; and he had done them before the Jews. They had been wrought not in secret, but in the sight of the whole nation, before enemies who watched him, in the temple itself, in so public a manner that not a shadow of suspicion could rest upon their truth. And yet, strange to say, they "believed not on him." After all was finished this was the result. His works bore witness of him that the Father had sent him, and yet they sinned still, and believed not for his wondrous works." Yea, they hardened their hearts against him; "he was despised, and they esteemed him not." He reasoned with them, but it was in vain. "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not; but if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works," was the strong appeal which he made at once to their reason and their consciences; but it was made to no purpose; they still persisted in their unbelief, and at the close of his ministry this heavy charge had to be registered against them, that "though he had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on him." Such was their sin and the aggravation of it; and now, my friends, to apply this part of the subject to ourselves; are none of us chargeable with the same degree of guilt, if not even with a greater? We may be amazed at their unbelief, and ready to condemn it as most wilful and unreasonable. We may wonder how any people could be so blinded and obstinate; but let us pause and consider if after all we are better than they. If we are still in unbelief, is not our guilt much more aggravated than even theirs? Christ indeed has not wrought his miracles before us, as he did before them. We have not seen him open the eyes of the blind, nor have we heard him recalling the dead to life. He has not walked amongst us like a messenger of mercy, dispensing his blessings upon all around, and causing many hearts that had been sunk in helpless and hopeless sorrow to sing aloud for joy. But are not "these things written that we may believe in the Son of God, and that believing we may have life through his name P We are assured that he did all these things, nay more, we are assured that he rose from the dead and "showed himself alive after his passion, being seen of the disciples forty days." We have that great miracle to confirm and crown all the others that he wrought. And since the day that he was "taken up," has he not wrought many miracles before us? What have we seen with our own eyes? the Gospel spread abroad throughout all the world by twelve poor and unlearned fishermen of Galilee-the grain of mustard seed become a great tree. What do we see with our own eyes? Is not prophecy every day receiving its fulfilment, and is not that a perpetual miracle? And yet is it not true, that there are numbers amongst us who do not believe? I do not speak of avowed unbelievers, but of those who do not obey the Gospel, and who must therefore be still in unbelief. The faith of such is counted for nothing in the sight of God. No man has believed in Christ, who is not a "new creature," and every such man will have his portion at the last "with the unbelievers." If the love of Christ doth not constrain us to live unto him, we have no real persuasion of his love, but the very same thing may be said of us which is here charged upon the Jews, that "though he had done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not on him." II. But let us now attend to what we are told in the verses that follow, "that the saying of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spake, Lord, who hath believed our report? and to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed?" You will find these words in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah and first verse; and a glance at what follows them in that place will suffice to show that they were spoken not at all of the prophet's times, but strictly of the times of our Lord and his apostles, and contain a complaint which the latter are represented as laying before God, of their small success in preaching the Gospel. By their "report" the Gospel is meant, and it is properly so called, as being a declaration simply of the things they had seen and heard, and which they were commanded to make known to others. They complain that this report was believed by so few, that it might be asked, where were they to be found, and as what was essential to produce faith in those to whom they published it, it is significantly added, "to whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed," by which no doubt, is meant the divine power of the Saviour, and especially that power as it is exercised on the hearts of men through the operations of the Holy Spirit, in "convincing them of sin, enlightening their minds in the knowledge of Christ, and renewing their wills." they complain was not believed; and why was it not believed? Not because they did not carry it to the ears of men, neither because men were incapable of hearing and knowing what they told them, but, because "the arm of the Lord was not revealed." Was then the unbelief of those who Their report as his work. heard it not chargeable upon themselves? Yes, most assuredly it was chargeable upon them, for they ought to have believed, and if they could not because of an evil and corrupt heart which made them averse to the things of God, that did not surely make him their debtor for what would subdue their enmity against him? He gives grace, but he does not owe it. He is ready to bestow it upon those who seek, but he is not bound to bestow it upon any. The call of the Gospel will not be obeyed unless the arm of the Lord is revealed, but he is not therefore under any obligation to reveal his arm; and every time that the call is heard and not answered, the guilt is in-harden their heart?” Are we to suppose this? curred of setting at nought his counsel. There are some who think that in remaining unconverted they are not to blame, seeing that they cannot believe with the heart without divine influence; but this delusion would be instantly dispelled, if they would inquire why it is that they cannot. Is it because they are so constituted? We are so constituted physically, that we cannot fly like a bird in the air, and we are not to blame for that. We are so constituted mentally, that we cannot foresee future events, and we are not to blame for that either; but are we so constituted, either physically or mentally, that we cannot believe the testimony of God? No, we can believe the testimony of man, and why not the testimony of God, which is greater? But we cannot, because we will not, and this is so far from leaving us excused, that it is, on the contrary, the very root of all the sin and corruption that are in us. Our moral disorder is a disordered will. A preached Gospel is, therefore, a report which you are bound to receive and obey every time you hear it. It is not man's word, but God's word conveyed to your ears by the mouth of man, that your faith may come by hearing," according to the method which God hath ordained. When we tell you of his mercy, that is a report which he has commanded us to carry to you; when we tell you of his wrath upon the disobedient, that is also a report which he has told us to carry; and when you hear of those things, you are not to think of the man who utters them, or of the manner in which they are uttered, but you are to think of them as so many messages from Him who is able to save and to destroy. It is true, indeed, that you may hear such reports for a lifetime in vain, if "the arm of the Lord" is not "revealed;" but still your guilt will be accumulating on you, and in these words Jehovah may challenge you, "I have called and ye have refused." But, with reference to the Jews, the evangelist declares, in the thirty-ninth verse, that " they could not believe, because that Esaias said again, He hath blinded their eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should not see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart, and be converted, and I should heal them." In these words, which are quoted from the sixth chapter of Isaiah and the tenth verse, the unbelief of that people is apparently ascribed to the judgment of God, and represented Can we imagine that this is really what is meant and taught in these words? No, my friends, not for a moment can we entertain such a monstrous supposition. I would as soon believe that God is unrighteous; and, with reverence be it spoken, he would be unrighteous if this were so. We are all his creatures, and he may do with his own what he wills, but we may be sure that he never did, and never will do this with any one of them. How, then, are the words to be explained? Did he not "blind their eyes and harden their heart?" Yes, we are free to admit that he did. But then remark, in the first place, what is the import of these expressions when employed in the Scriptures. They do not imply any positive act on the part of God, but simply a negation or withdrawal of his grace, the same which is elsewhere expressed by saying, "he gave them up to their own hearts' lusts,"-be "gave them over to a reprobate mind." He does not make the heart harder, he only leaves it to its native hardness and impenitence. It was thus that he hardened Pharaoh's heart, who is therefore said, over and over again, to have hardened his own heart; and to suppose any other thing would be to charge God as the author of evil. And now remark, in the second place, when this was done. Our Saviour tells us, in those pathetic words, which, with tears in his eyes, he spake over Jerusalem, "If thou hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes ;" and the same thing is intimated in the parable of the fig-tree, and in many other places. They had then their day-their day of grace and salvation—a day in which the Spirit of God did strive with them; and it was after they had "rebelled and vexed his Holy Spirit," that, in the sense we have explained, he blinded their eyes and hardened their heart." And so you find, in St. Matthew's Gospel, thirteenth chapter and fourteenth verse, that when he quotes this same prophecy, or rather when recording an application made of it by our Lord himself to the Jewish people, what is here represented as God's work, is declared to have been their own. "For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed." And if you turn to the last chapter of Acts, you will find St. Paul, at the twenty-fifth verse, pointedly applying it in the same sense. This, then, is the sum of the whole matter,—the |