chair at the bedside of the poor old dying sinner; and as he tosses
in the height of penitence and despair, she reads to him the promise
of the Saviour--'This night thou shalt be with me in Paradise;' and
he embraces her with transports, and, falling back on his pillow,
calmly closes his eyes in peace. She is the true religion; and when
I see what she can do even in the last moments of the guilty, well
may we exclaim, when we think of the symbols and pageantry of the
departed superstition, Can I hear any more the voice of singing men
and singing women? No; let us cling to the simplicity of the Truth
that is now established in our native land."

At the conclusion of this clause of my discourse, the congregation,
which had been all so still and so solemn, never coughing, as was
often the case among my people, gave a great rustle, changing their
positions, by which I was almost overcome; however, I took heart and
ventured on, and pointed out that, with our Bible and an orthodox
priesthood, we stood in no need of the king's authority, however
bound we were, in temporal things, to respect it; and I showed this
at some length, crying out in the words of my text, "Wherefore,
then, should thy servant be yet a burden to the king?" in the saying
of which I happened to turn my eyes towards his grace the
Commissioner, as he sat on the throne, and I thought his countenance
was troubled, which made me add, that he might not think I meant him
any offence, "That the King of the Church was one before whom the
great, and the wise, and the good--all doomed and sentenced
convicts--implore his mercy." "It is true," said I, "that in the
days of his tribulation he was wounded for our iniquities, and died
to save us; but, at his death, his greatness was proclaimed by the
quick and the dead. There was sorrow, and there was wonder, and
there was rage, and there was remorse; but there was no shame there-