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cry out with Peter, it is good for us to be here,' can I wish to delay his coming? When, remaining in this vale of misery I groan under corruption, and am burdened with a corruptible body, can I say this is better than to be fashioned in soul and body like unto the Lord? When I find here nothing but vanity, and vexation of spirit, shall I be averse to the Lord's coming to change my sorrows into joy unspeakable and full of glory? Here, beset as I am with enemies, would I not long for that blessed day when I shall see them again no more for ever? And would I not be glad to be taken from a world lying in wickedness, into the new heaven and earth wherein dwelleth righteousness? I know that my Redeemer liveth, I know that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; I have humble confidence that he will own me among the children; and shall I, like those who know no better joys than this world can afford them, are ignorant of a Redeemer's righteousness, and lie under the unconscious guilt of unnumbered and unpardoned sins; shall I, like them, cleave to this base life as my all for happiness, and not wait, and wish, and long for the day of my Master's glorious appearance? No, I will not abide in that low measure of faith, which only begets a hope that I may be well when the Lord comes, but knows not what it is to love the day of his appearance. My endeavour shall be to be strong in the faith, and abounding in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost; always fruitful in good works, and hasting unto the day of the Lord. Hold out faith, and come Lord Jesus."
Thus the saint-like minister now ripening for eter
nal glory, affirmed his own exultant expectation of the day of Christ's appearance; but his last words were those of remonstrance and entreaty to such as would not be partakers of his joys. "To be plain, I am grieved at heart for many, very many of you, to think how you will make your appearance before Christ's judgment seat. You have no works to speak there for your belonging to Christ; I can see I see works of various kinds that prove you do not belong to him. If a life of pleasure, idleness, indulgence, drunkenness, pride, covetousness, would recommend you to the favour of the judge, few would be better received than numbers of you. In the name of God, my friends, when you know this moment in your own consciences, that if, as you have been and are, you should be called to judgment, you would be as surely cast into hell, as if you were already scorching in those dreadful flames, why will you live at such a rate?-Well, we shall be all before the judgment seat of Christ together. There the controversy between me, persuading you by the terrors of the Lord, and you determined to abide in your sins, will be decided. There it will appear whether your blood will be upon your own heads for your obstinate impenitence, or upon mine for not giving you warning. Christ will certainly either acquit or condemn me on this account; and if I should be acquitted herein, what will become of you? I tremble to think how so many words of mine will be brought up against you on that day. What will you say, what will you answer, how will you excuse yourselves? O sirs, if you will not be prevailed upon, you will with eternal self-reproach
curse the day that you knew me, or heard one word from my mouth. Why, why, will you die with so aggravated a destruction? O think of the judgment; think of it, and you will not be able to hold it out against your own souls. May the Lord incline you to do so; may he cause this word to sink deep into your hearts; may he shew you all your danger; and with an outstretched arm, bring you out of the hands of the devil, and translate you into the glorious kingdom of his dear Son to his own glory, and your unspeakable happiness in the day of the appearance of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Even so, most mighty God, and most merciful Father, for the same Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
This awakening appeal seemed like a foreboding of an approaching end to the solemn duties of his sacred office; and a more touching close was never given to the ministry of any man, nor can there be produced a nobler specimen of the eloquence of a heart, throbbing at once with blissful prospects for himself, and grief over those who had not believed his report. His eye of faith could pierce through the gloom of death and the darksome regions of the grave, and enjoy a glimpse of that crown, radiant with the light of heaven, which awaited him in glory; while all that imparted a hue of mourning to the funeral pall, the shroud, and the silence of the tomb, was the conviction that he should become a witness in the great day, against those thoughtless sinners over whose salvation he yearned and wept in the bowels of Jesus Christ. Here we see at once, the sublimity and tenderness of the grace of God: a tear to love bedewed
the eye that glistened with seraphic rapture, as it caught on this side the river of death, a distant prospect of the ethereal scenes of eternal bliss; the disciple of Christ, like his Master wept, in the hour of triumph, over the place whose inhabitants might have known, ere they were hidden from their eyes, the things belonging to their peace.
Soon after this animated declaration of his own hopes, and his fears for many of his flock, Mr. Walker was seized with a violent illness. A fever confined him for several weeks to his room; and when he had in some measure lost the disease, its effects on an enfeebled system gave mournful warning of his approach to the grave.
His friends, however, had the satisfaction of seeing him recruit his strength a little, as is evident from the following letter of the Earl of Dartmouth to Mr. Rawlings, who sent this pious nobleman accounts of his health.
MY DEAR FRiend,
Blackheath, May 17, 1760.
I am more obliged to you than I can well express, for the repeated notices you have given me concerning that holy man of God, our valuable friend; and am heartily thankful to the indulgent Father of mercies, for the prospect your last brings of the continuance of his useful labours. While the will of God concerning him seemed doubtful, I could not resolve to write to you, not knowing how to suit my letter to the state it might find him in, but contented myself to wait with anxious impatience for the farther account you promised me, and which came not through the
hands of Mr. Talbot till last night. In the mean time I had various thoughts of heart; sometimes concluding that the Lord had taken him, and then supposing that a remaining doubt as to the event of his illness, had induced you to defer writing. My prayers were sometimes faintly offered up for him: had they not been addressed to him who searcheth the heart and trieth the reins, whose all piercing eyes discern the very thoughts and intents of the heart, they must have been lost in the multitude of strong cries and earnest supplications, that have been offered up at Truro and elsewhere. These I trust have prevailed to the prolonging a life, which is to be made yet farther instrumental in promoting the Redeemer's glory, and the salvation of redeemed souls. The fever with which Mr. W. has been attacked, seems by many of its symptoms, to have been of the same nature with that which many, in and about London, have undergone this spring; but with this material difference, that, in these parts, it has usually been attended with an eruption, which the physicians have endeavoured to promote as much as possible. This,
suppose, occasions the difference in the manner of their treatment; here they have spared [depletion] as much as possible, and supported their patients with cordials. In both cases the success is from the Lord; to him be all the glory. Many thanks to you for your animating exhortations. I thank God that I cannot look inward, but I see abundant cause of selfabasement, or upward, but I see mercies, that, in a less insensible heart, would excite the warmest returns of gratitude and love. A strong remainder of unmorti