Socrates will be gone." One of the ancients, when on his death bed, said, "My dear children, think not, when I am gone, that I shall be no more. While my soul was in this body it was undiscovered by you, but you knew I had a soul by the actions of this body-when I am gone, believe it still exists, though still unseen."

Some of the wisest and most honorable men of every age of the world have maintained the truths of divine revelation, and have attended to the great and momentous concerns of the soul. How necessary it is for every one to seriously reflect upon the words of our blessed Savior, when he said, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and loose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul." How wonderful is the love of Christ! How great his pity and tender mercy towards us -of which he gave the highest assurance when he left the realms of glory and gave himself an offering and a sacrifice upon the cross. How great must be the depravity of our hearts, to slight such love, and reject the offers of mercy purchased at so dear a rate. We were not redeemed with corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ. Our blessed Lord, while here below, suffered hunger, thirst, and weariness. He became poor

in worldly things, that we might become Spiritually rich. "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." He condescended to suffer an ignominious death for us, although he might have called for twelve legions of angels. He trod the wine-press alone, and of the people there were none with him. He well knew the nature and extent of his sufferings, yet he did not shrink from them. "The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it." O the depth of ingratitude in the hearts of those who refuse to believe and obey the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ-and how great must be their condemnation. To such I would say, make haste and delay not to consider your ways, and come to the light, that you may be the children of light, lest darkness come upon you, and you at last be constrained to say, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." May we all meditate on these things, give ourselves wholly to them-truly repent of sin, and glorify God who has done so much for us.

Was all the world of parchment made,
"And every stick therein a quill;

And every man a scribe by trade,

And was with ink the ocean filled;

128

MEMOIR OF REV. JOSEPH SNELLING.

To write the love of God how hard,
To drain the ocean dry;

Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky."

APPENDIX.

AGREEABLY to the wishes of some of my friends I have concluded to give some account of my ancestors. This narration must necessarily be brief, in consequence of the limited knowledge which I at present possess respecting them. My grandfather, Captain Jonathan Snelling, was born in Boston, and descended from a family that moved from the county of Surry, in England, to Boston, about the time of its early settlement. He married a lady in Boston by the name of Mary Falsy. I have been told that she was a lady possessing a strong mind and extensive information, and could converse upon almost any subject with a great degree of ease and intelligence—and more than all, she was a believer in the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ, and thought by her acquaintances to be very pious. They had nine children, four sons and five daughters, all well educated and respectable. My grandfather, when

young, commenced the sea-faring business, and was considered one of the first ship-masters that sailed out of Boston. For several years he used to go up the Mediterranean, but toward the latter part of his life he followed the London trade, and brought fall and spring goods. I have been told that he brought the chime of bells to Boston that are now in the North Church. He spent much of his time in London, nearly as much, perhaps, as he did in Boston.

While in London, he attended the ministry of Dr. Watts; there he could go and hear the most essential doctrines of the Gospel, and his soul be fed with the bread of life. He was also a great friend to Mr. Whitfield; and when he preached in Boston, in the house then called the New North, he put up with my grandfather, who lived opposite the meeting-house.

At one time when my grandfather was in London, a little anecdote occurred with which he was so much amused that he afterwards often spoke of it when in company with his friends,which, perhaps, for the sake of variety, may not be amiss to mention. As he was one day walking the street, a little boy with a stool came up to him, and asked him if he would have his shoes cleaned-in order to help the boy, he consented to have it done—the boy performed his work in