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SACRED POETRY

EZEKIEL'S VISION.

BY ROBERT GILFILLAN,

THE Spirit of the Lord from heaven upon Ezekiel came;
The prophet knew the voice of God, and kindl'd at the same:
"This is the valley of the dead, behold it wide and deep;

Where from their troubl'd dream of life a thousand strong men sleep! Behold their bones, in countless heaps, that blanch'd and wither'd lie:"

The prophet look'd upon the bones, and they were very dry.
"Say, son of man, can these bones live, in which no life-springs dwell?"
The prophet answered, “O Lord God! 'tis Thou alone canst tell.”
"Then bid them hear the word of God, and this that word shall be,-
• Awake ye dead men from your sleep, the Lord shall set you free;
New flesh upon your bones shall come, and skin shall gather there;
And round the clouded brow of death, I'll stamp my image fair;
And breath I'll give that ye again your Maker's praise may sing;
Then shall ye know that I am God, your Saviour, and your King!'"
The prophet rais'd his voice and cry'd, “Ye dead men now awake!"
And, lo! a mighty noise was heard, and all the bones did shake;
And bone to bone together came, each bone into its place;
But cold and lifeless was each form, and ghastly was each face;—
The eye had not yet light-the mouth unmoving, still was dumb,
And from the heart no living stream, in purple tide did come.
"Call on the four winds, bid them blow, and breathe upon the slain,
That they may wake to life once more, and walk the earth again!"
"Come forth, ye winds of heaven! obey His voice who bids ye blow;
Andraise the sleepers from their sleep, whom death has long laid low."
The winds obey in songs:-they shout, in lofty notes, his praise,
And high as ever angel soar'd, their voices forth they raise.
The dead men startle at the sound, the breath of life is given
By Him who walks upon the wind, and rules the host of heaven'
The prophet gaz'd with fear and awe to see this living band,
That grew an army great in power-that cover'd all the land.
"Who are the sleepers? Who the dead? Once blind, but now who
sce?

Whence is the vision of the bones? and what may those things be?"
"These are the lost of Israel, who, wandering from the way,
Refuse the Witness sent from God, their only hope and stay;
Who sleep in darkness and in death, and scatter'd o'er the plain,
Till God's free Spirit o'er them come, and call to life again;
Then shall their dry bones quicken'd be, and they shall hear his word;
And know that Jesus reigns as king, the great and mighty Lord!"

MISCELLANEOUS.

An Indian Conjuror.-Among other converts of Mr Brainerd's, was a man who had been a most notorious sinner, a drunkard, a murderer, a conjuror; but who at length appeared to be an illustrious trophy of the power and the riches of divine grace. He lived near the Forks of Delaware, and occasionally attended Mr Brainerd's ministry; but, for a time, like many others of the Indians, was not at all reformed by the instructions which he enjoyed. About that very time he murdered a promising young Indian, and he still followed his old trade of conjuring, being held in high reputation among his countrymen. Hence, when Mr Brainerd told them of the miracles of Christ, and represented these as a proof of his divine mission, and of the truth of his religion, they immediately mentioned the wonders of the same kind which this man had wrought by his magical charms. As he was, in this manner, a powerful obstruction to the progress of the Gospel among the Indians, Mr Brainerd often thought it would be a great mercy if God were to remove him out of the world, for he had little or no hope that such a wretch would ever himself be converted; but He, "whose thoughts are not as our thoughts," was pleased to take a more gracious and a more effectual method of removing the difficulty. Having been impressed by witnessing the baptism of Mr Brainerd's interpreter, he followed him to Croswecksung shortly after, and con

tinued there several weeks during the season of the most remarkable and powerful awakening of the Indians. He was then brought under deep concern for his soul. His convictions of his sinfulness and misery became by degrees more deep, and the anguish of his mind was so increased, that he knew not what to do, or whither to turn. Soon after this, indeed, he became more calm; but yet, in his own apprehension, he had little or no hope of mercy. Mr Brainerd conversed with him, and said he scarcely ever saw a person more completely weaned from dependence on his own endeavours for salvation, or lying more humbly at the feet of sovereign mercy, than this poor Indian conjuror. He continued for several days to pronounce sentence of condemnation upon himself, yet it was evident he had a secret hope of mercy, though probably it was imperceptible to himself. During this time, he repeatedly inquired of Mr Brainerd when he would preach again. On being asked why he wished to hear the word, seeing that, according to his own account, "his heart was dead, and all was done for ever;" he replied, "Notwithstanding that, I love to hear about Christ." " 'But," said Mr Brainerd, "what good can that do you, if you must go to hell at last?" "I would have others," replied he, Christ, if I must go to hell myself." After continuing in this state of mind upwards of a week, he obtained such a view of the excellency of Christ, and of the way of salvation through him, that he burst into tears, and was filled with admiration, and gratitude, and praise. From that time he appeared a humble, devout, affectionate Christian; serious and exemplary in his behaviour; often complaining of his want of spiritual life, yet frequently favoured with the quickening and refreshing induences of the Holy Spirit. In short, he appeared, in all respects, to possess the character and dispositions of one who was “created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works."

66 come to

Adversity a Blessing.-The Rev. Dr Lathrop, of America, illustrating, in a sermon, the sentiment that "God often answers prayer in a way that we do not expect," introduced the following facts:-A poor African negro was led, while in his own country, by the consideration of the works of nature, to a conviction of the existence and benevolence of a Supreme Being. Impressed with this fact, he used daily to pray to this Great Being, that by some means or other he might more distinctly know him. About this time he was taken, with many others, and sold for a slave. For a while he hesitated as to the view he had taken of God, and thought that if there did indeed exist a just and good Being as he had supposed, he would not allow fraud and iniquity to prevail against innocence and integrity. But after a while this poor slave was introduced into a pious family in New England, where he was instructed in Christianity, and enabled to rejoice in God as his friend. He was now persuaded of the fact, that adverse providences are often the means of answering our prayers, and conducting us to the greatest happiness.

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THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN
OF GETHSEMANE.

PART I.

BY THE REV. W. B. NIVISON, Formerly one of the Ministers of the Scotch Church in Amsterdam.

PRICE 1d.

But there are two parts more particularly of the life of Christ, from which we might almost deduce the doctrine of the atonement, even if it had not been revealed so frequently, and with so much clearness, in the Sacred Scriptures. His agony in the garden of Gethsemane, and his death on the Mount of Calvary, would excite the wonder and compassion of mankind, if they were merely contemplated as historical facts, and not THE life of our blessed Saviour may truly be said considered at all as forming parts of the "mysto have been one continued series of instances of tery of godliness." There is something about humiliation and suffering. His assumption of hu- them so singular, so affecting, and so sublime, as man nature, and his residence on the earth, were to be equally fitted to engrave upon the mind the temporary suspensions of his divine and uncreated loftiest and the tenderest impressions. We see glory, and could not have been submitted to and en- before us a pure, benevolent, and intelligent Being, dured by him, if a sacrifice or propitiation for sin placed in a condition of life to which he appears had not formed an essential part of the Christian re-infinitely superior; gaining the affection and condemption. Pain or suffering, under all its variety of forms, is the natural consequence or effect of sin; such an arrangement constitutes, as it were, the basis on which the security and efficiency of the divine government depend; and on this account, before mercy could be shown, or pardon offered to the human race, it became necessary for our Mediator not only to assume our finite and mortal nature, but also to descend to a state of the lowest abasement, and of the bitterest suffering. He was under the necessity of making this great and wonderful sacrifice, that he might be able to remove from us the curse of the good and perfect law we had violated, and to satisfy the justice of the high and holy Being we had offended. We learn from Scripture, that "without the shedding of blood there can be no remission;" and if our merciful High Priest had not interposed to save us by the offering up of his own body, we should have been compelled to endure, in our own persons, and without the faintest hope of forgiveness, the temporal and eternal penalties of our apostasy and disobedience. When the Son of God became incarnate in the fulness of time, and appeared on the earth as the "woman's seed," he was fully aware that an afflicted life, and an accursed death, were the divinely appointed means by which he should be enabled to bruise the serpent's head, and destroy his wide and powerful dominion over every region of the moral uni

verse.

VOL. II.

fidence of all who knew and could esteem his virtues; acknowledging, in every situation in which he was placed, the constant guardianship of an Almighty Providence; adorning his adversity with the humblest patience and the most cheerful resignation; and performing, with a regular, unwearied diligence, works of kindness and mercy, far exceeding the measure of human power and of human charity; we see this holy, humane, and powerful Being, overwhelmed on two occasions with the deepest agony of mind and body, and uttering, at both periods, expressions that not only imply a foresight of his misery, but also a persuasion of its subserviency to some great and important end. There is observed to run throughout the whole of his agony a higher degree and a ruder violence of pain than are ever found in the state and circumstances of a merely human being, even when he is undergoing the most refined torture or the most cruel death. The evangelists are evidently at a loss for words strong enough to express its poignancy, and we cannot help feeling something more to be in the events than what is darkly announced to us by their simple and concise narrations. I intend, in the present article, and in a subsequent one, to offer some remarks on the first of those events, the agony of the Saviour in the garden of Gethse

mane.

On the memorable evening of the paschal sup

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per, our Saviour went out, as he was wont, with his disciples to the Mount of Olives. He had chosen this sequestered and pleasing spot for the scene of his retirement and devotion. It was situated at a convenient distance from the holy city, and afforded him a secure retreat from the harassing pursuit of the people, as well as a grateful shade from the burning rays of an eastern sun. The brook Cedron murmured at its base, and glided gently along through the vale of Jehosaphat, that lay beneath the hill on its western side. He first of all climbed up the Mount of Olives, where, it should seem, he left all his disciples except Peter, James, and John, with whom he descended into the garden. There he began to be sore amazed and very heavy, and said to the disciples, "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful even unto death; tarry ye here, and watch with me, and pray that ye enter not into temptation." When he had uttered these sad and melancholy words, he went a little farther from them and fell on his face and prayed, saying, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not my will but thine be done." The weakness of his humanity was almost overpowered by the violence of the mysterious conflict, though it was supported, at the same time, by the union of the divine nature, and also by the presence of a celestial messenger. For this latter support he was indebted to the ever watchful providence of God. The event of the Redeemer's agony was known in heaven, and created the deepest interest there. The Father, from his throne on high, had observed the opening of the last gloomy scene of his afflicted life. He saw the gathering darkness of its awful hour. He knew the piercing sharpness of its bitter pain. He heard the earnest prayer of his beloved Son. And though the latter was God as well as man, yet an angel, we are told, was sent to him from heaven to impart some additional strength to his mortal frame." Still the trial of his soul increased; and "being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." When the violence of pain had somewhat abated, he rose up from prayer, and when he came to the disciples he found them sleeping for sorrow. Disappointed, perhaps, at not meeting with the sympathy of their attention, as well as of their presence, he said unto Peter, "What! could ye not watch with me one hour?" He accompanied, however, this mild rebuke with a useful exhortation and an affectionate apology; "Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak." He retired again the second time, and prayed, saying, "O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me except I drink it, thy will be done." And when he came to the disciples, he found them asleep again, for their eyes were heavy. And he left them, and went away, and prayed the third time, saying the same words. Then cometh he unto his disciples, and saith unto them, "Sleep on now and take your rest; behold the hour is at hand,

and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners."

Such is a simple and accurate description of the agony of the Saviour in the garden of Gethsemane. And, we may easily perceive, from its peculiar and violent nature, that it constitutes an essential part of the mysterious train of suffering by which the work of our redemption is formed and completed. His agony in the garden may be called, with more special propriety, the suffering of his soul; his death upon the cross, the suffering of his body; and the union of both, would seem to comprehend a full and perfect atonement. The curse written in the law against sin, our readers will remember, embraces or includes the punishment both of the soul and of the body. The death threatened in the covenant of works, was not only the destruction of the body, but the perdition of the soul. It was not only corporeal, but spiritual; not only temporal, but eternal death. This important fact may probably serve to explain to us, not only the cause, but the severity of the agony in the garden. The Redeemer might at that dread season be bearing in his soul what was sufficient to compensate for the spiritual misery, the mental remorse, the moral despair, that would have oppressed and tormented the guilty minds of the whole human race. He might be drinking, at that sad moment, what was equivalent to the full draught of all the horrors, of all the pains, and of all the fears, that would have filled up to the brim the "red-coloured vial" of the divine wrath. And while undergoing this awful retribution, he would seem to have been forsaken both by God and man. The "hiding of his Father's countenance" is a form of expression we sometimes meet with in Scripture; and when applied to Christ, it conveys a dark but emphatic idea of that harrowing perturbation of feeling, of that utter desolation of spirit, of that overwhelming sense of "heaven's desertion," which were experienced in this hour of darkness by the Substitute of sinners. There was an evident suspension of the filial communion with Godhead-temporary, indeed, as it could not otherwise be, but at the same time real, and marked by the usual accompaniments of horrid consternation and excruciating painfulness. Our blessed Lord was reduced for a season to the wretched condition of a guilty creature, who has been driven from the presence and favour of his Maker-who has become the miserable victim of legal vengeance who is lost, finally lost, to holiness, to heaven, and to happiness. And as the soul is more susceptible of pain, and more capable of enduring it than the body; so we may conceive better than describe, the inward and invisible agony that preyed upon the vitals of our Lord's spiritual being, and moved "the Man of Sorrows" to pray so often to his Father, and with such anxious entreaty, and with such affecting earnestness, that required the double presence and support of the Deity and of an angel; and that pierced so deeply the frame of his human nature, as to make "the sweat of his

nody fall down to the ground in great drops of the rays of the sun intolerable to him. This of course blood!"

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

made him unable to earn a livelihood by any employment out of doors; and his parents being poor, they at length, when he had reached the age of fourteen, bound him apprentice to a shoemaker at Hackleton. For a time he continued to display the same indifference to religion, the same immorality of conduct as formerly; and though he was occasionally exposed to the visitings of an awakened conscience, he strove to repress them; and for this purpose resolved to adopt an external refor

THE REV. WILLIAM CAREY, D. D., Late Missionary to Bengal, and Professor of Oriental Languages in the College of Fort-William, Calcutta. THE name of Carey is hallowed in the remembrance of thousands, and few have ever enjoyed a more honourable reputation for extensive learning, exalted piety,mation of character, and to pay a scrupulous attention to and varied usefulness. Of his early days, nothing remarkable is known. His father was a schoolmaster in the village of Paulerspury, in Northamptonshire, having succeeded his grandfather in the same honourable employment. In this obscure locality, William Carey was born on the 17th of August 1761. He was educated under his father's care; and his mind being naturally vigorous, he made rapid progress in the acquisition of knowledge. He soon displayed a considerable taste for reading, and spent much of his time in perusing books of science, history, and voyages. In proof of his ardour in the attainment of knowledge, we may quote the following statement given by his sister:

"I have often heard my mother speak of one circumstance she had remarked with pleasure in him, even before he was six years old. She has heard him in the night, when the family were asleep, casting accompts: so intent was he from childhood in the pursuit of knowledge. Whatever he began he finished: difficulties never seemed to discourage his mind; and, as he grew up, his thirst for knowledge still increased. The room that was wholly appropriated to his use was full of insects, stuck in every corner, that he might, observe their progress. Drawing and painting he was very fond of, and made considerable progress in those arts, all acquired by himself. Birds, and all manner of insects, he had numbers of. When he was from home, the birds were in general committed to my care. Being so much younger, I was indulged by him in all his enjoy ments. Though I often used to kill his birds by kindness, yet, when he saw my grief for it, he always indulged me with the pleasure of serving them again; and often took me over the dirtiest roads, to get at a plant or an insect. He never walked out, I think, when quite a boy, without observation on the hedges as he passed; and when he took up a plant of any kind, he always observed it with care. Though I was but a child, I well remember his pursuits. He always seemed earnest in his recreations, as well as in school. Like the industrious bee, he was always gathering something useful. It seemed as if nature was fitting him for something great,-from a child forming him for future usefulness; while, at the same time, he was generally one of the most active in all the amusements and recreations that boys in general pursue."

Being destitute of religious principle, however, young Carey seems to have exhibited in his juvenile years some of the worst qualities of the unrenewed heart; and being addicted to the company of wicked associates, he sunk into the most awful profligacy of conduct. In vain did his father warn him of the dangerous course upon which he was entering. To the solitary counsels and affectionate advices of his parent he lent a deaf ear. It pleased God, however, to lay his hand upon the abandoned youth, and thus to arrest him in his career. From about seven years of age, William was subject to a very painful disease of the skin, which, though it rarely appeared in the form of an eruption, yet rendered

all the outward duties of religion. To the vital influence of divine truth he was as yet an utter stranger. At this time a circumstance occurred, which shews at once the laxity of his principles, and the complicated stratagems by which Satan endeavours to secure his victims. We present the narrative in the very language of young Carey himself:

"It being customary in that part of the country for apprentices to collect Christmas-boxes from the tradesmen with whom their masters have dealings, I was When I applied permitted to collect these little sums.

one.

to an ironmonger, he gave me the choice of a shilling or a sixpence; I of course chose the shilling, and, putting it into my pocket, went away. When I had got a few shillings, my next care was to purchase some little articles for myself; I have forgotten what. But then, to my sorrow, I found that my shilling was a brass I paid for the things which I bought, by using a shilling of my master's. I now found that I had exceeded my stock by a few pence. I expected severe reproaches from my master, and therefore came to the resolution to declare strenuously that the bad money was his. I well remember the struggles of mind which I had on this occasion, and that I made this deliberate sin a matter of prayer to God as I passed over the fields home. I there promised, that if God would but get me clearly over this, or, in other words, help me through with the theft, I would certainly for the future leave off all evil practices; but this theft, and consequent lying, appeared to me so necessary, that they could not be dispensed with.

"A gracious God did not get me safe through. My master sent the other apprentice to investigate the matter. The ironmonger acknowledged the giving me the shilling, and I was therefore exposed to shame, reproach, and inward remorse, which increased and preyed upon my mind for a considerable time. I at this time sought the Lord, perhaps much more earnestly than ever, but with shame and fear. I was quite ashamed to go out; and never till I was assured that my conduct was not spread over the town did I attend a place of worship."

In the course of a short time Mr Carey joined the Baptist communion, and was baptized at Northampton by Mr Ryland, junior. After he had pursued his business with industry, he thought of renouncing the employment of a shoemaker and commencing that of a schoolmaster. For this purpose he removed to Moulton, where, besides conducting a school, he regularly offi ciated as pastor to a small congregation of Baptists. His flock were few in number, and poor in outward circumstances, and as he had married some time before, his family were increasing, so that his pecuniary resources were sometimes sufficiently scanty. Under all privations, however, he persevered in acquiring knowledge of every kind. From his local situation he had an opportunity of profiting by the conversation and experience of some of the most eminent ministers connected with the communion to which he belonged. To Mr Hall of Arnsby, in par

ticular, father on the celebrated Robert Hall, he professed | devoted like a sacrifice to holy uses, is the great busi himself, through life, under the strongest obligation.

While resident at Moulton, Mr Carey's mind became much impressed with the claims of the heathen abroad to the exertions of Christians at home. He proposed the point for discussion at a meeting of ministers, held at Northampton, but his views met with little countenance and sympathy. Instead of being discouraged by the coolness of his brethren, he only directed his mind, with greater intensity to the subject, and composed a pamphlet, pointing out the obligations of Christians to make all possible endeavours for the conversion of the heathen. In the year 1789 Mr Carey was relieved, to some extent, from his pecuniary embarrassments, by a cordial invitation from a Baptist congregation in Leicester, to become their pastor. He accordingly removed from Moulton, but even in Leicester he was under the necessity of increasing his income by teaching a school, besides receiving assistance from the Baptist fund for the relief

of necessitous ministers and churches. Still his labours were incessant, not merely in the multifarious duties of

his ministerial office, but in the attainment of useful information. To give an idea of the manner in which he spent his time, we may quote a passage from a letter which he wrote from Leicester, addressed to his father.

"On Monday I confine myself to the study of the learned languages, and oblige myself to translate something. On Tuesday, to the study of science, history, and composition. On Wednesday I preach a lecture, and have been for more than twelve months on the

book of Revelation. On Thursday I visit my friends. Friday and Saturday are spent in preparing for the Lord's day; and the Lord's day in preaching the Word of God. Once a fortnight I preach three times at home; and once a fortnight I go to a neighbouring village in the evening. Once a month I go to another village on the Tuesday evening. My school begins at nine o'clock in the morning, and continues till four o'clock in winter, and five in summer. I have acted for this twelvemonth as secretary to the committee of dissenters; and am now to be regularly appointed to that office, with a salary. Add to this, occasional journeys, ministers' meetings, and so forth; and you will rather wonder that I have any time, than that I have so little."

ness of a Christian, pursuant to these requisitions. I
consider myself as devoted to the service of God alone,
and now I am to realize my professions. I am appointed
to go to Bengal in the East Indies, a missionary to the
Hindoos. I shall have a colleague who has been there
five or six years already, and who understands their
language. They are the most mild and inoffensive
people in all the world, but are enveloped in the greatest
superstition, and in the grossest ignorance. My wife
and family will stay behind at present, and will have
sufficient support in my absence; or should they choose
to follow me, their expenses will be borne. We are to
leave England on the third of April next. I hope,
the Lord for the most arduous, honourable, and im-
dear father, you may be enabled to surrender me up to
portant work that ever any of the sons of men were
called to engage in. I have many sacrifices to make.
I must part with a beloved family, and a number of
most affectionate friends. Never did I see such sorrow
manifested as reigned through our place of worship last
's day. But I have set my hand to the plough."
The congregation at Leicester were very unwilling
to part with a pastor who had endeared himself to their

Lord's

hearts by the tenderness and faithfulness of his ministrations among them; but so frequently and powerfully had he pleaded the cause of the heathen, that they were fully convinced it was their duty, however reluctantly, to acquiesce. Before setting out to India, Mr Carey's mind was thrown into great perplexities by various circumstances of a most distressing kind. For some time his wife appeared to be resolute in remaining at home, and it was not until her sister consented to accompany her to India that she would be persuaded to yield. Mr Thomas, his colleague, who was engaged to accompany him, was detained, in consequence of the claims of creditors, Lis affairs having previously been in an embarrassed state. And what was most discouraging of all, when at length they had actually embarked at Ryde, the captain of the vessel received an anonymous letter, warning him at his peril against proceeding with persons on board unlicensed by the East India Company. On the receipt of this ominous communication, which had probably been sent by one of Mr Thomas's creditors, the captain reUnder Mr Carey's ministry the congregation at Lei- quired both the missionaries to disembark. Mr Carey and cester increased in numbers, and he was much esteemed his companion returned to London, disappointed by this by the inhabitants of the town, both churchmen and apparent frustration of all their hopes. In a few days, dissenters. Still, however, his mind was bent upon a however, the dark cloud disappeared. An arrangement mission to the heathen. He frequently introduced the was obtained with Mr Thomas's creditors, a foreign vessel subject in conversation with pious friends, and at length was procured, not subject to the control of the Company, succeeded in awakening an interest in the object. So Mrs Carey's scruples were overcome, and the whole early as 1784, a few devoted ministers formed an assoparty re-embarked and set sail for the East Indies. ciation at Nottingham, with the view of setting apart an hour on the first Monday evening of every month, "for extraordinary prayer for the revival of religion, and for the extending of Christ's kingdom in the world." This was the origin of the monthly prayer meetings, now held almost universally throughout the Christian world.

It was not till 1792 that, chiefly in consequence of Mr Carey's exertions, the Baptist Missionary Society was organized, and he himself volunteered to be the first to undertake, under their sanction, the responsible office of a missionary to the heathen. He thus alludes

to his new vocation in a letter to his father :—

"The importance of spending our time for God alone is the principal theme of the Gospel. I beseech you, brethren,' says Paul, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice; holy and acceptable, which is your reasonable service.' To be

|

The voyage was somewhat stormy, but, by the blessing of Providence, nothing disastrous occurred. The missionaries maintained family worship regularly on board, and preached twice on the Sabbath. At length they reached the shores of India in the beginning of November 1793. The missionary party had scarcely landed, when trials of the most distressing kind were appointed them. Their finances were soon exhausted, and Mrs Carey, who had left her native country with reluctance, became still more discontented with her situation; Mr Thomas, whose dispositions were very different from those of Mr Carey, conducted himself, for some time, in a manner scarcely reconcileable with Christian consistency, and, in short, like the holy Brainerd, whose character he so much admired, Mr Carey, at the outset of his mission, was almost com

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