that if I have derived no benefit from it, the fault is my own. It is evidently the production of a vigorous intellect, and of a strong, if not very refined imagination. Moreover, if we may judge from the work, Mr. Zacharie Boyd must have been eminently qualified for that important part of the pastoral office the consolation of the sick.

It is true, that the style of the times in which it was written, and of which it hath a strong savour, is scarcely adapted to the fastidious taste of this polished age; but many of your readers, I am persuaded, will not on that account turn away with disgust from a work of real intrinsic merit.

As the book is very rarely to be met with, I shall take the liberty of extracting from it some passages which may give your readers a proper idea of it. It is divided into eight conferences, which take place chiefly between a dying man and his spiritual guide. It also contains the last speech of the former to his wife and children, and concludes with a dispute between the Devil and the angel Michael, touching the soul about to be disembodied.

At the beginning of the conversation, the sick man is sorely beset with temptations of different kinds. By his own confession, his attachment to the world is great, and it is not without a violent struggle that he is able to wean his thoughts from it. The faithful pastor, however, is always at hand with his assistance, and uses the following argument to reconcile him to quit the world: "If a lord should

give to some of his tennants a cottage-house of clay, with some little piece of ground for colewort or cabbage for to live upon, saying, This will I give thee for my life time; but if afterward this lord should say, Fetch thee my good servant out of his clattie cottage, and bring him to my palace, that he may eat at mine own table for ever: Tell me, if by the change that servant hath lost; would that servant, think yee, say, No, lord, I will not come to thy table, for thou hast promised me this cottage-house for my life time? What lord in the land was ever troubled with such an answer?"

Some conversation here ensues, but the minister's words are not attended with any immediately wholesome effect. The dying man continues to speak his mind plainly, and confesses, without hesitation, his carnal attachments. "I have filled my barnes, and I desire to enjoy the fruits thereof. There is no man but hath desire, after great paines, to reape some fruites of his labours: I wish that death would excuse me for some years: This is my griefe, for I must be plain with you, I cannot well accord to leave such comforts." After some farther argumentation, he still remains very much in the same state of feeling." I have latelie bought some heritage; my servants are plowing it; before I die I would wish once to reap the fruites thereof." And again, "My lands are laboured; the harvest draweth neere; there is a plentifull croppe upon the ground; cornes and wheat and all abound."

At last, however, he gives in. He exclaims, "Fye, fye, on my faultes and my folie: I foolishlie once thought that I should feather a nest into this world that should never be pulled down: Mine heart hath been bent toward this vanity, that I have neither moved foote nor finger toward eternal life."

Many interesting conversations now take place, in the course of which the dying man has his doubts removed, and his views greatly enlightened. Of the seasonable assistance of the pastor he seems fully sensible, and his gratitude vents itself in the warmest expressions of obligation. The humble pastor is, however, far from attaching any merit to his own labours." "We who are pastors (says he), are but the Lord's spouts and cocks of his conduits, whereby his graces are conveyed unto the hearts of our hearers."

The advices which are bequeathed to the wife, may be listened to with advantage by the present generation.

The husband seems aware of the danger that his spouse will not tarry long to fill up the vacancy which his death will occasion, and accordingly admonishes her to content herself without carnal marriage. "As for thee, my spouse, now shortlie thou art for to bee a widow: I counsell that thou marrie thyself to Christ; let him be thy spiritual spouse." After this preamble, he enters into the consideration of the question in form, and has the precaution to begin with a quotation on his side from St. Paul

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give to some of his tennants a cottage-house of clay, with some little piece of ground for colewort or cabbage for to live upon, saying, This will I give thee for my life time; but if afterward this lord should say, Fetch thee my good servant out of his clattie cottage, and bring him to my palace, that he may eat at mine own table for ever: Tell me, if by the change that servant hath lost; would that servant, think yee, say, No, lord, I will not come to thy table, for thou hast promised me this cottage-house for my life time? What lord in the land was ever troubled with such an answer?"

Some conversation here ensues, but the minister's words are not attended with any immediately wholesome effect. The dying man continues to speak his mind plainly, and confesses, without hesitation, his carnal attachments. "I have filled my barnes, and I desire to enjoy the fruits thereof. There is no man but hath desire, after great paines, to reape some fruites of his labours: I wish that death would excuse me for some years: This is my griefe, for I must be plain with you, I cannot well accord to leave such comforts." After some farther argumentation, he still remains very much in the same state of feeling. "I have latelie bought some heritage; y servants are plowing it; before I die I would h once to reap the fruites thereof." And again, My lands are laboured; the harvest draweth neere; here is a plentifull croppe upon the ground; cornes and wheat and all abound."

At last, however, he gives in. He exclaims, "Fye, fye, on my faultes and my folie: I foolishlie once thought that I should feather a nest into this world that should never be pulled down: Mine heart hath been bent toward this vanity, that I have neither moved foote nor finger toward eternal life."

Many interesting conversations now take place, in the course of which the dying man has his doubts removed, and his views greatly enlightened. Of the seasonable assistance of the pastor he seems fully sensible, and his gratitude vents itself in the warmest expressions of obligation. The humble pastor is, however, far from attaching any merit to his own labours. “We who are pastors (says he), are but the Lord's spouts and cocks of his conduits, whereby his graces are conveyed unto the hearts of our hearers."

The advices which are bequeathed to the wife, may be listened to with advantage by the present generation.

The husband seems aware of the danger that his spouse will not tarry long to fill up the vacancy which his death will occasion, and accordingly admonishes her to content herself without carnal marriage. "As for thee, my spouse, now shortlie thou art for to bee a widow: I counsell that thou marrie thyself to Christ; let him be thy spiritual spouse." After this preamblé, he enters into the consideration of the question in form, and has the precaution to begin with a quotation on his side from St. Paul

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