amongst other efforts to do good, in 1675 procured a new impression of the Welch Bible, to the number of 8000; one thousand of these were given away, and the rest sold at a reduced price. It appears, that in order to accomplish this object, he engaged the assistance of some distinguished ministers of the Established Church, and of some separatists from it, who, like himself, delighted to do good. A few months since, the writer visiting the mansion of the Duke of Bedford, at Woburn, was shown by Mr. Wiffen, his Grace's Librarian, and the admired translator of Tasso, one of these Welch Bibles, on the blank leaf of which was the following interesting inscription.

"For the Right Hon. the Earl of Bedford, Knt. of the noble order of the Garter.

"In thankful acknowledgement of his bounty to Wales in contributing towards the charge of printing the thousand Bibles in the British Language which were to be freely given to poor families, and of teaching many hundreds of poor children to read and write. (Signed) "Jo. Tillotson.

The

ad

"Edw: Stillingfleet. Benj. Whichol. "John Meriton. "Tho: Gouge. Benjamin Calamy. "Thomas Firmin. "John du Bois." Each name is in the hand writing of these venerable men. personage to whom it was dressed was William, Fifth Earl and First Duke of Bedford, nobleman of much liberality of opinion, who justly deeming religion to be of no sect, lived in friendship with the most eminent divines of his day, whether they were nonconformists, or the champions of episcopacy. That was a noble saying of his, which Isaac Andrews has recorded in his Epistola ad Ultimam," that "he

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accounted the prayers of God's ministers the best walls about his dwelling."

It is a curious fact, that the Society formed by Mr. Gouge should have originated in the same circumstance which gave rise to the British and Foreign Bible Society, viz. an attempt to supply the Welch with Bibles; and it is pleasing to observe, that in the latter as well as the former instance, the head of the noble house of Russell, though at the distance of several generations, should appear as the zealous patron of an institution, which has for its object the extensive diffusion of the word of God. B.

THE PASTOR'S RETROSPECT.
No. XIII.

The Princely and Pious Cobbler. THE religion of Christ never appears more lovely and divine than in the fruits which it sometimes produces in the most barren spots, and in the most unpromising soils. The mighty and transforming power which is in it, is less strikingly developed in those who have, previously to their spiritual renovation, enjoyed a degree of moral and mental cultivation, than in those whom it has found in a state of rude and vicious degradation, almost bordering upon heathenism and bestiality. Though the divine power and influence of the Holy Spirit are as indispensable in the one case as in the other, and the heart of the most strictly moral and the most polished needs the same regeneration to God, as the heart of the most uncultivated and depraved, yet the change is more striking, and the contrast more pointed and interesting in the latter than in the former; just as the flowery regions on the Alpine summits become infinitely more interesting and beautiful, from the contiguity of the eternal snows on which they border, and with which

they are contrasted. Yet it may be safely asserted, that the grace of God in the poor and the wretched does not attract sufficient admiration, though I believe there are innumerable cases to be found among the very lowest, and once the most degraded class of human society, which furnish illustrious monuments of the power of the Gospel, and which will appear in the celestial world among the most conspicuous trophies of the grace of Christ. The conversion of an individual in the higher circles is contemplated with admiration, and published with triumph, partly, it may be presumed, on account of his worldly importance, and partly on account of the rarity of such occurrences. Sometimes, too, on account of the influence which such individuals may be supposed to exert, through a gay and wide circle, in favour of the neglected truths and unfelt power of Christianity. I would on no account detract from the importance, or abridge the éclat of such interesting and delightful occurrences. Several such, in modern times, have powerfully illustrated the spirituality and purity of the Gospel, have given confidence and joy to many of the Lord's servants, and are circulating a healthful and happy influence over large portions of society in several parts of the kingdom. But still I may claim a niche in your miscellany for a narrative relating to humbler life, but scarcely promising less important results, and in itself affording as illustrious a display of the sovereign grace of God as any that modern times can boast.

In a part of England, where the beauty and fertility of the natural scenery are sharply and painfully contrasted with the deformity and sterility of the moral, only a few miles distant from a very principal road, along which daily passes much of the gaiety and refinement, NEW SERIES, No. 8.

and not unfrequently also much of the benevolence and piety of the land-there is a village, which the eye of the traveller may detect as he winds up and down the sides of the neighbouring hills-a spot surrounded with the luxuriance of woods and orchards, interspersed with fields of unrivalled fertility, and in the neighbourhood of some of the most lovely eminences our island contains. But fair as the scene has presented itself to the sense of successive generations, who have viewed and admired it, there was every thing morally to designate it a desert, or worse. A heathen village could scarcely have presented a more appalling scene of darkness, vice, and brutality than might there have been nightly witnessed. The Sabbath was to them a day of rest from the drudgery of the world, only to seek the worse drudgery of sin and Satan. No Sunday School blessed its children-no feet of itinerant evangelists, bringing the glad tidings of peace, were seen upon the mountains; no sympathetic female visited its cottagers, or read by the bed-side of its sick and dying poor; no kind hand of passing traveller dropt the hopeful tract. True, it was in some parish, and that parish had a priest, but he, like multitudes of the wretched hirelings of the state-church, thought more of the tythes to be gathered into his garner, than of the souls to be led to heaven-indeed, for them, no man seemed to care. In this village, there was one--as rude and ignorant as any of his neighbours, as abhorrent from every thing like serious religion, and as much estranged from God as any around him-he bore the not very promising distinction of the village cobbler. He had considerably passed the meridian of life, and was fast waning into that state, in which ignorance and sin are rendered obdurate by habit, and stiffnecked by age. He had passed 3 G

many a year in the toilsome duties of his vocation, and had conversed with most of the equally humble and ignorant individuals of the generation around him, but still he knew not God. His attention was one day arrested by the intelligence, that in a small neighbouring town certain individuals were in the habit of privately meeting to read the Holy Scriptures, and converse together upon their contents. The fact was altogether singular and unheard of. After some meditation, he thought he should like to be present, and he accordingly resolved to go. His resolution was soon carried into effect. He witnessed the humble seriousness of a few pious persons, who met for the sole purpose of hearing the word of God read. His attention was directed to the reading and examination of that word for himself. He procured a Bible, and began to feel the influence of truths which had hitherto been utterly concealed from his view. The Sabbath, instead of being spent at the public-house, or in pleasure-taking, or idle and wicked gossip, as it usually is among villagers, where no gospel-sounds salute the ear, was now regularly devoted to this highly laudable and useful object. Month after month he cheerfully took his accustomed Sabbath-day's journey, toiling many a mile to hear the word of God read, and to join in prayer and praise with a very small band of individuals, nearly of the same rank in life with himself. At length, the word of God took deep hold upon his heart. He became a man of faith and of prayer. His neighbours wondered his family admired-and angels rejoiced. How naturally do the genuine principles of Christianity lead the heart to benevolence! He had scarcely himself become a Christian before he looked around him on his village-neighbours, and deeply and inwardly mourned over

their wretched and lost condition. But he not only pitied; he asked himself what can I do? He could do but little. He felt unable to teach them, and unfit even to attempt it. Yet he was resolved what to do, and the deed was as princely as the principle was divine. He had saved a small sum of money, the fruit of many years hard industry, economy, and diligence-the little but comfortable resource for his family in case of his removal, or of himself in case of sickness. This little property he thought would be still better devoted to the building of a small chapel for the service of the village, and he accordingly determined immediately, and unassisted, to prepare an humble building, such as his means would allow, in which he might occasionally hear the word of God proclaimed to his untaught neighbours. The work was soon effected-some Christian friends in a neighbouring town engaged to procure a preacher to open the new place of ministry; the day arrived, a happy and zealous company of friends met together; and a minister from a distance came to set apart the place for the high and holy use of divine worship. Let your readers, if they can, enter into the joyful emotions of that day-let them conceive the pure and blessed feelings of this humble Christian, when he saw the building which his own benevolence had reared, first opened as a house of prayer for all the people. It was noble and lovely, perhaps beyond precedent in modern times. The emotions of this lowly cottager that day might have been envied by a prince, and few of the princes of this world ever did an act so noble and pious. Some of the good people who had come to witness the scene, powerfully felt the influence of his zeal-so eminent and pure, and voluntarily proposed that they should be allowed, in

part at least, to share with him the expense of the erection. They endeavoured to convince him, that it was not right for him to bear the whole burden, and that collections would cheerfully be made towards assisting him in this labour of love. But the service was a luxury to his soul not to be foregone. He had consecrated his little savings to this good work of the Lord, and he was resolved to make it a monument of his gratitude to the Saviour, that might live through succeeding generations. Still, however, alert to doing good, and glad to find his fellow Christians willing to contribute of their abundance to aid the village - cause, he proposed that they should collect what they thought proper, and devote it to the purchase of a horse for the service of such ministers as they might be able to procure, and who might thereby be enabled more frequently to visit this benighted place. This was accordingly done, and now this village enjoys the regular services of a minister of the Gospel, has its Sunday School, and various other means of religious instruction. The effect has been striking and delightful, and the humble individual, who has been the instrument of all this good,still lives to witness the blessed fruits of his devotedness, and to enjoy a luxury in his latter days, which many of ampler means might have, but which few have magnanimity and piety enough to desire. Some of your readers, in affluent or in moderate circumstances, will no doubt admire the zeal, and praise the devotedness of the poor cobbler; but let them think whether they cannot do likewise. The rich may lavish their fortunes in building stately mansions, or elegant villas for their own use; but how much happier would their otium cum dignitate be found, if they would consider the multitudes in our villages, that yet have no place of worship where they can hear the

glad tidings of salvation, and who are perishing for lack of that knowledge, which, without any painful sacrifice or large privation, might be readily extended to them. There are in England enough rich men, retired from business into the country, to supply every village in England, and Wales, and Ireland with a suitable place of worship, and a suitable messenger of the glad tidings. Let this simple narrative of the pious cobbler stimulate such immediately to form the resolution, to work while it is called to-day-and let it remind the rich, that if they do not soon come to the help of the Lord, the poor will of their penury supply themselves with the requisite instruction, and deprive those who now enjoy the means of doing infinite good, both of the honour and the reward.

I am, yours, &c.

་་་་་་་་་་

EAGLET.

DEFENCE OF CECIL.

GENTLEMEN,-I beg permission to offer a few remarks on some parts of the communication of your correspondent Volens, contained in your Magazine for May. To me he appears, in some instances, to have put a construction on Mr. Cecil's language, which that eminent Minister and Christian, would have altogether disowned.

In the first quoted passage, Volens, if I do not mistake his meaning, is of opinion that Mr. C. has committed two errors; 1st, that of classing the evidences of the truth of religion with the circumstantials or externals in religion; and 2dly, that of asserting, "that considerable or continued attention to them, has a deadening effect on the soul, and tends to draw it away from union to Christ."

It would have contributed much to the clearness of his observa