Andrew Dunn: An Irish Story
Thomas Kelly
Table of Contents
The Remarkable Narrative of Andrew Dunn's Conversion
Andrew Dunn was educated a Roman Catholic, and continued till he was about forty years of age, like his neighbors, taking for granted that everything his clergy told him was true. He was a shrewd, sensible man; but his sagacity, till this time, had been exercised merely on the affairs of this world. About the age of forty he began to think of the Gospel of Christ and his own ignorance upon the subject, and he determined to make some inquiries in a matter upon which the salvation of his soul turned.
First Interview With Father Dominick
Accordingly he went to Father Dominick, the priest of his parish, and told him that he wished to have a little conversation with his reverence. "Well, Andrew," said his reverence, "what have you to say to me?" "Why, please your reverence, I have been thinking for some time back that though I can strike a bargain well enough with a neighbor, I am nearly as ignorant about the Gospel as a horse or a cow, and this I do not think becoming in me. Will your reverence be so kind as to put me in the way of getting some knowledge in this matter?" "Why," answered he, "Andrew, I never missed you at confession, nor at Mass, and you are a very honest fellow; what more do you want than this?" “Why, then, sir, to tell you the truth, if any one was to ask me why I am a member of the Catholic Church I could not tell him, unless I was to say that my father was so before me, and this, with submission, I think a very foolish reason." "But don't you know, Andrew," replied his reverence, "that you belong to the Holy Mother Church, and that there is no other true Church, and that all who do not belong to her communion are heretics, and will be damned?" "I have often," said Andrew, "heard your reverence say as much in the chapel; but, with submission, may I make bold to ask your reverence how you know all this?" "Andrew, you are the first of my flock who ever dared to ask me such a question, and I do not understand such liberties! However, your question is easily answered. I know it, because the Church says so.”
Andrew was a little dismayed at first, but recovering himself, said, "May I make so bold as to ask your reverence, how came you to be so sure that the Church can make no mistake in these matters? For your reverence knows that it is but reasonable that a man should be a little inquisitive where he may lose or gain so much." With an air of triumph Father Dominick answered: "If you will ask questions, know then that Jesus Christ has promised to be with His Church to the end of the world, and this makes her infallible, that is, incapable of error." "This, indeed, is something to the point," cried Andrew; "and if your reverence will make this matter plain to me I shall be easy in my mind forever after.”
Father Dominick, glad to get rid of him on such easy terms, told him that the promise of Jesus Christ was to be found in the last chapter and last verse of the Gospel by St. Matthew, and having the promise at his fingers' ends, he repeated it over in Latin for the benefit of Andrew. "All this," cried Andrew, "may be very fine and very good for anything I know to the contrary; but, please your reverence, I do not understand one word you say." "I know that very well," replied Father Dominick; "we take care, for the benefit of our flock, to reserve the power of explaining such passages to them according to the true interpretation put upon them by the Church." "With submission," said Andrew, "may I beg an explanation of these fine and learned words?" "Why, Andrew," answered Father Dominick, "the meaning of them is this: Jesus Christ promises to be with every council that the Pope shall call together to the end of the world; that such council, being the Church, shall be infallible, that is, shall not be liable to error; and that, consequently, every one who shall dare to dispute its decrees shall be punished as a heretic here, and that his soul shall be miserable to all eternity." "Bless me," cried Andrew, astonished at what he heard, "is all this contained in the short sentence your reverence repeated?" "Aye, and a great deal more," replied he, "if I had time to tell it to you. With this passage we are able to confound all the pretenders to religion in the world; it leaves them not a word to say for themselves.”
Procures a New Testament
Andrew had learned when a boy to read and write, and being naturally possessed of a good memory was still able to read tolerably well. He used to work frequently at a Squire's house in the neighborhood, and was taken notice of as a good workman. The Squire's lady was very kind to the poor about her, and particularly in the two last hard seasons she employed herself with such diligence to procure food for them that she was the means of saving the lives of many who would have actually starved for want of proper food. But she also remembered that they had souls to be saved or lost; and she would, when she visited the sick, drop a word or two to call their attention to their everlasting concerns. She began about this time to buy Testaments to distribute among the poor of all descriptions in her neighborhood. Father Dominick himself was ashamed to make any objection to this charitable deed of hers, although, if the truth was known, he would as soon that she had kept her favors of this kind to herself.
As Andrew was threshing one day this good lady went in to inquire after the health of one of his children who had been ill, and whom she had gone to visit. After some further conversation, she asked him if he had got a Testament in his house. "No, madam," answered he, "but I wish I had one, and was able to read and understand it." She immediately brought out a Testament, which she presented to Andrew. He put the Book in his pocket till his work was over, and then walked smartly home, that he might have an opportunity that very night of reading a part of it. As he was on his way he was led to reflect on the value of the treasure he had about him. "This Book," he said to himself, "contains the words of God. If I was in possession of a book that would teach me how to become rich I should greatly prize it, but this Book will teach me how to be rich forever. And why should Father Dominick wish to keep it from me? Come what will, I am determined, with the blessing of God, that I will read it." After he and his family had finished supper he retired to the little room where he slept. That night he read a few chapters, with which he was much delighted, and continued the same practice until he finished the whole.
He was particularly struck in his reading not to find anything like what he used to hear from Father Dominick, not a word of the Pope, of the Mass, of confession, penance, and absolution, of saints' merits, holy days, eating of fish, praying with beads, &c. "What!" cried he, "have I been hearing of these things all my life, and been taught to consider them as everything in religion, and yet I cannot find one word about them in the Testament? Does Father Dominick know this, or has God whispered in his ear that His own Word is not true? Or has He given him a liberty of changing it or of adding to it?" However, though Andrew could find nothing of this kind in the Testament, he found in it things of much greater importance.
He was particularly affected by such texts as the following: Jesus said: "They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." "Aye," says he, "I understand this. If we had not been sinners we should not have needed a Savior." Again, "I am not come," said Jesus "to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." "O how comfortable! I am a sinner; He came to call me among others." Again, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16). "Yes," cried Andrew, in a transport of admiration, "this is love indeed! that God should send His Son upon such an errand." But, recollecting himself, "Alas!" cried he, "what reason have I to be delighted with this news? How do I know that I have anything to do with it?" Such passages as the following used to wound him to the very soul: "The wicked shall go into everlasting punishment”
(Matt. 25:46). "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?" (1 Cor. 6:9). "God will render unto every man according to his deeds. Tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doeth evil" (Rom. 2:6, 9). When he read such passages as these his heart would sink within him, for he well knew that he had been a sinner, and that God might justly punish him with everlasting destruction. "O wretched man that I am!" he would cry, "who shall deliver me?" In this state of mind, either elevated by hope or depressed by fear, he continued some weeks.
His Family Aroused
Andrew had a family, consisting of a wife, a son, and two daughters; his son about eighteen, and his daughters, seventeen and fifteen. It was impossible that he could conceal entirely from them the feelings of his mind, and they would often ask him the cause of his concern. At first he used to put them off with some evasive answer; but upon their growing more inquisitive and importunate, he would say: "O my dear wife and children, there is much more in religion than any of us have been aware of. The Testament tells me I am a sinner, and this is what makes me uneasy." Andrew was much loved by his family, who at first thought that he was a little beside himself, and were greatly frightened; but, upon seeing that he appeared quite rational in every other respect, they endeavored to comfort him by saying, that though, to be sure, he was a sinner, yet he was as honest a man as any of his neighbors, had a good heart, and never missed his duties. "Poor comfort," cried Andrew; "poor medicine for a wounded conscience! If you have no better consolation for me than this, O spare me the pain of hearing what only inflicts a deeper wound! Can you tell me how I shall get rid of my sins?" "Aye, to be sure," cried his wife; "go, my dear to Father Dominick, and confess to him, and he will give you absolution, in the twinkling of an eye." "Give me absolution!" replied Andrew, heaving a sigh; "this might do in the days of my ignorance, but I require a different kind of absolution now. God only, my dear, can forgive sins; and Father Dominick has no more power to forgive sins than you or I.”
One day he took up the Testament and read in the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke. When he came to that part where the poor prodigal says, "I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son," he fell upon his knees, and applying the passage to himself, he cried out earnestly for pardon through Jesus Christ. Casting his eyes upon the Book, he was struck with these words, "When his father saw him he had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him;" and immediately recollecting another passage which he had read, "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin" (1 John 1:7), his heart was melted by a view of the love of God in sending His Son to save sinners; and, casting himself as a sinner upon the mercy of God through Christ, he found himself at once in possession of comfort he had never before experienced.
Andrew now began to speak more plainly to his family than before, and would tell them of the love of Christ in giving Himself to redeem perishing sinners. For some time he seemed to them all, except his youngest daughter, as a person beside himself. She, from the beginning, heard his words with much attention, and in a short time came to him, and with a countenance expressive of the feelings of her mind, confessed "that she had been deeply affected by the things he had spoken; that the thought of them had never left her by day or night; that her mind was in such a state of uneasiness that she now came to him for advice and consolation." Andrew was greatly delighted by what he heard; he told her the importance of not trifling with such serious thoughts, endeavored to set before her the love of Christ to the chief of sinners, and bid her comply with His invitation to come unto Him without delay; that she needed nothing to recommend her to Christ but her wants, which He would freely supply. Soon after Andrew had the satisfaction of seeing his wife and son convinced of the truth, and humbly seeking Salvation at the foot of the Cross; so that there remained now of his family only his eldest daughter who was not a true believer.
Matters went on in this way for some time, and it was now more than a year since Andrew had his first conversation with Father Dominick, during which period, by applying all his spare time to the study of the Testament, he had made himself a pretty good master of it, and was able, by the grace of God, "to give to every man that asked him a reason of the hope that was in him." In the meantime Father Dominick had called to know what had kept him from confession and Mass. At first he wanted courage to own the truth, and made some excuse for his neglect; but he afterward began to consider that he need not be ashamed of what he had been taught by the Word of God, and that it was his duty openly to avow his conviction of former errors. He resolved, therefore, that next time he would speak to him plainly, and having acquitted his conscience before God, patiently abide all consequences.
Second Encounter With Father Dominick
Soon after this Father Dominick called upon Andrew, and sharply upbraided him with his neglect of duty. "Aye," said Father Dominick, "I guessed this would be the consequence of your inquisitive spirit. You have learned, it seems, to despise your clergy, and you are no longer afraid of penance. I expected no better from your presumption in taking upon you to read the Testament. If I had you in a foreign country I could soon set matters to right by clapping you into the Inquisition, and make you pay well for your presumption in disputing the authority of your clergy. But in this country that vile principle of 'liberty of conscience' is so much in vogue that every man may think for himself, and our power stands on the most precarious footing." "Without intending to show any disrespect to you, sir," replied Andrew, "I cannot help expressing my thanks to God that I live in a country where every man may judge for himself, nor do I think it much to the credit of religion that torture must be employed to keep men faithful to it." He then addressed him as follows: "Do you expect, sir, to bring me back by such arguments as these? If you do, you are indeed much mistaken. A conviction that I was wrong has produced the change in me which seems to give you so much offense, and nothing, I hope, but more convincing reasons on the other side will bring me back again. If you expect to do anything with me, come into my house, and set before me your reasons. If I find them satisfactory, you will not find me obstinate.”
Father Dominick began, as he cooled, to feel a little ashamed of his conduct, and resolved to go in, and, dismounting, he tied his horse at the door, and took his seat by the fire within. Andrew sat down by him, and all the family drew nigh to hear a conversation which promised to be so interesting.
The Father in Andrew's House
“Is it not," said Father Dominick, beginning the discussion, "a strange piece of presumption in such a man as you are to venture on a dispute about religion with one like me, who can read and write Latin, and have been brought up in these things?”
Andrew. "What's every man's concern, sir, must be simple in itself. If I want to measure a piece of cloth, and have no yard to measure it with, I must take it by guess, or on the report of another; but if I have a yard measure, I apply it to the cloth, and it does not require much education to know how much there is in it.”
Father D. "What do you mean by that?”
Andrew. "I mean, sir, that God has given me a measure to judge by, and that my business is to apply that measure, which, I believe, does not require so much education as you, sir, seem to think.”
Father D. "Oh! I see what you are at. You mean, I suppose, that the Scripture is given you to judge by, and that everything is to be measured by that rule.”
Andrew. "Exactly so, sir.”
Father D. "But have you considered that that Book is fit only for the learned, and that such uneducated people as you have nothing to do with it?”
Andrew. "I know that you often told me so, sir, before I read it; but when I came to read it, and prayed for grace to understand it, I found it simple and easy to be understood. I do not pretend to explain every part of it, nor I believe can the wisest man upon earth; but I trust I have seen enough in it to make me 'wise unto Salvation.'”
Father D. "Truly, you are one of the most impudent fellows I ever met with; to think you understand the Scriptures when even men of learning and education find it hard to explain them!”
Andrew. "I am not ashamed to confess, sir, that I have no pretensions to learning. But, perhaps, if you consider the following verses which I have met with in the Testament you will not lay so much stress upon learning. Our blessed Lord says: 'I thank thee, O Father, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes' (Matt. 11:25). And, again: 'Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven' (Matt. 18:3). St. Paul, too, says: 'Not many wise men, after the flesh, are called' (1 Cor. 1:26). I could bring other texts of the same kind, but these are enough to show that our Savior and His apostles did not make so much account of learning as many are disposed to do. Moreover, sir, you know as well as I can tell you, that our blessed Master, Jesus Christ, when He was upon earth was chiefly employed in speaking to the poor, and that His discourses to the poor are given to us in the New Testament. Now, sir, I can see no reason why a poor Irishman should not be as well able to understand our Lord's Word as a poor Jew. Nor can I see why poor Irishmen should be prevented from reading what He, who was wiser than all of us, thought fit that poor Jews should hear." His reverence, who did not expect such reasoning from Andrew, was a little perplexed by his argument, and found himself unable to answer it. He was obliged, therefore, to defend himself behind the infallibility of the church, and to say, "that the Church, in her wisdom, had forbidden the reading of the Scriptures." Such an argument as this had for some time lost all its effect upon Andrew, and he observed "that he needed no more to convince him that the Church, in whose favor his reverence pleaded, could not be the true Church." This was rather too much for his reverence's patience. But he kept in his anger as well as he could, and told him that, since he would have the Scriptures, he might; and that he would show him out of those Scriptures that all he objected to in the Holy Catholic Church was of Divine authority and appointment.
Andrew. "If you can do that, sir, I promise to return into the bosom of what you call the Catholic Church.”
Father D. "Then, let me hear what you object to?”
Andrew. "I consider the whole unsound; but some of the principal things to which I object are the Mass, confession, penance and absolution, anointing, purgatory, praying to saints, and, above all, human merit!”
The Mass
Father D. "Let us begin, then, with the Mass. The Mass is that service in which the elements of bread and wine are consecrated by the priest and changed into the real body and blood of Christ, and offered up to God an unbloody sacrifice for sin. Now you need only look into the Testament, which you think is all on your side, and you will there find that Christ says of the bread in so many words, 'This is my body;' and of the wine, 'This is my blood.' What can you say against a matter so plain in itself?”
Andrew. "I acknowledge, sir, that the words are to be found as you have stated them. But you will please to observe that every word is not to be understood in a strict literal sense. St. Paul says of the rock out of which the water came to the Israelites, 'that Rock was Christ' (1 Cor. 10:4). But surely it would be wrong to suppose that the piece of stone was really Christ; yet we have as good a right to say it was as that the bread and wine in the Mass are His real body and blood. I am not learned, sir, but common sense teaches me that if our Savior's words may be understood in such a way as does not make Him speak what seems the greatest contradiction imaginable, it is in that sense that they should be explained. Now, sir, if I take those words as if they signified this bread and wine did actually become flesh and blood, I must suppose first, that a part of our Lord's body was placed upon the table after He had blessed the bread, though at the same time His body remained whole, or, more strictly speaking, that His body was removed entirely out of its place while it remained entirely in it. For if He says, 'This is my body,' and that is to be literally understood, then it was His whole body, and not a part of it that took the place of the bread. Secondly, I must suppose that a crumb of bread, not weighing perhaps half an ounce, really weighs several stone. Thirdly, I must suppose that what looks like bread, feels like bread, and tastes like bread, is, contrary to what my eyes, my hands, and my mouth declare it to be, flesh and blood. And lastly, I must suppose what is worse than all besides, that our Lord's people are fed with carnal, and not with spiritual meat.”
Father D. "This is judging by sense, and not by faith.”
Andrew. "Sir, if our Lord had said, 'This which you see is no longer bread, but is actually changed into the substance of My body notwithstanding its resemblance to bread,' it would have been the duty of His disciples to have believed His words in spite of the evidence of all their senses; but as He did not so explain Himself, it seems plain that I am no more to understand Him literally than when He says, 'I am the door,' or, 'I am the way.' We are told that our Lord turned water into wine at a marriage feast; but He did not give them a liquor with all the appearance and properties of water and tell them it was wine. Moreover, sir, our Savior has given us a key to such passages when He says, 'The words that I speak unto you they are spirit, and they are life.' ‘It is the spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing.' Besides, sir, our Lord says, 'Do this in remembrance of Me,' which shows me that He intended this Supper to bring to our memory what He had suffered for His people. But, after all sir, I can't help asking you two questions on this subject. One is: Where do you find in our Lord's proceedings on this occasion anything like what the priests do when they celebrate the Mass? The second question is: By what right do you refuse the wine to the laity? For He who desired the disciples to take the bread bid them also take the cup.”
These were two puzzling questions for Father Dominick, and all he could say was that the Church had so ordained it, and therefore it must be right. But Andrew resolved to keep to the Testament, and would not yield one inch of ground unless driven from it by clear proofs from God's Word. Father Dominick told him he was a censorious fellow, and, as no good Christian could doubt the real presence, he bid him pass on to the next objection.
Absolution
Andrew. "You tell your flock, sir, that you have a right to require of them to confess their sins in your ear and to put penance upon them, and then to give them absolution.”
Father D. "To be sure we do; what good Christian ever doubted it?”
Andrew. "I should thank you, sir, to show me anything in the New Testament which supports this pretension.”
Father D. "I can do it very easily. ‘Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained’" (John 20:23).
Andrew. "Are you sure, sir, that you understand those words rightly? And can you believe, that, by authority of this word, every parish priest may require his flock to confess, appoint them penance, and give them absolution? Where is the confession in the ear of a priest spoken of?”
Father D. "St. James 5:16 says, 'Confess your faults.’”
Andrew. "I am much surprised, sir, that you should pretend that this is anything to the purpose. If you would take the rest of the words you would see the apostle's meaning: 'Confess your faults one to another, brethren;' from which it is plain that St. James did not mean anything like confession to a priest. And where is the right to appoint penance given you in the Testament?”
Penance
Father D. "Aye, I thought that was it; the matter is out now. You do not like the wholesome discipline of the Mother Church, and this is the real cause of your quarrel with her.”
Andrew. "Far from it, sir, for since I have read the Testament my outward conduct has been quite changed, so that, by the grace of God, I am no longer given up to different sins as I formerly was; but I want to know where you find it in the Word of God.”
Father D. "Have you not read what St. Paul says: 'Deliver such an one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus'?" (1 Cor. 5:5).
Andrew. "St. Paul shows his meaning by what follows: 'Therefore,' he says, 'put away from among yourselves that wicked person' (1 Cor. 5:13). From which it appears, first, that the priest is wrong when he takes upon himself what the apostle directs the society of Christians to do. Secondly, that when he causes the person to inflict punishment upon his own body he does what he should not do, because the order is not 'Make them do penance,' but 'Put such an one away from among you.'”
Father D. "Penance is a wholesome discipline, and answers an important end.”
Andrew. "To the clergy it does, sir, because it keeps the people in awe of them, and makes them more afraid of the priest than they are of God Himself. And this is not saying more than the truth, for they are breaking God's commandments every day, but the priest's commands must be done. I remember, sir, when I used to confess having been drunk I had a very light penance; but being led one day to go hear a sermon, which was not preached by a priest, you made me go round the chapel on my knees, and imposed many other hardships upon me which I was then simple enough to submit to. Now, sir, was it a greater sin to go to hear a sermon than to get drunk? No; but doing the one looked like judging for myself, which you considered the greatest crime I could commit; but, by the other, I only break one of God's commands, which did not effect the authority of the clergy. Does it not appear, then, that penance is employed more as a matter of convenience for the clergy than for the purpose of preventing sin? And does it not serve rather to keep the people in awe of the priest than to keep them from offending God? You say penance is of use; but how, sir? What are you able to effect by it? Can you keep your people from open and scandalous sins? You know you cannot. You can frighten them into the keeping of Lent, or observing a holy day, or you can keep them from praying with those whom you call heretics; but you cannot make them sober, or chaste, or honest. And as to your absolution, where is the need of it? If God forgives us, what occasion have we for the absolution of the priest? And if He does not forgive us, the priest's absolution cannot deliver us from the punishment which our sins deserve.”
Father D. "I tell you, man, as I told you before, you are in a very great darkness; for the Church has settled all this matter long before either you or I were born, and you may as well attempt to shake the foundation of the world as to overthrow the infallibility of the Church.”
Extreme Unction
Andrew thought the Word of God better deserved the character of infallibility than what Father Dominick called the Church; and as he was resolved not to allow a point that could not be proved out of that Word he and his antagonist could not agree on this article, and so they were obliged to pass on to another—that was extreme unction.
"As to this," said Father Dominick, "there can be no dispute about the matter, for St. James says plainly, 'Is any man sick among you? Let him call for the elders of the Church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord' (James 5:14). What can you say to this?”
Andrew. "Why, sir, this I will say, that you have repeated only a part of the passage, by which means you keep the apostle's meaning out of sight. He adds, 'and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.' Now, sir, though I don't pretend fully to understand the matter, I see enough to show me that you put a wrong meaning upon it. You anoint a man, supposing he is dying, to give him a passport to heaven. But if he should happen to recover he must be anointed over again when he afterward seems to be in a dying state. A child may see that St. James is talking of the sick man's being raised up after he is anointed by the prayer of faith, so that your anointing and St. James' are two very different things.”
Father D. "You're a very presumptuous fellow, and woe be unto you when you come to die if you are not anointed by a priest!”
Andrew. "Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of looking for it. The Word of God makes no mention of it in the sense you mean; and I have no fear if I die in a simple dependence on the atoning death of my Savior that I shall fall short of heaven.”
Purgatory
Purgatory came next before them. Father D. "So you do not believe in Purgatory since you read the Testament?”
Andrew. "I can find nothing like it there, sir.”
Father D. "Can't you, indeed? That's strange, when so many great men could find it there. What do you think St. Paul meant when he said, 'The fire shall try every man's work, of what kind it is'?" (1 Cor. 3:13).
Andrew. "I think the meaning is very plain, sir. By looking at the passage you will see that the apostle is speaking of the different doctrines which might be taught by different people after the foundation of truth had been laid. Some of these he compares 'to gold, silver, and precious stones,' meaning sound doctrine; and some to 'wood, hay, and stubble,' meaning unsound doctrine. Now he says all these shall undergo a trial at last, and what was so proper to try the different materials which he spake of as fire? If the doctrines were like 'gold, silver, or precious stones,' we all know that they would receive no hurt by the fire, but the contrary. But if they were like 'wood, hay, or stubble' they would be consumed by the fire. But what has this to do with a place to burn the souls of men in, to purify and fit them for heaven?”
Father Dominick looked at the place and read it over and after he heard Andrew's explanation, he was surprised that he had never understood it before. However, he did not confess to Andrew that he thought his interpretation right; but told him "that he saw only the surface of the thing, and that the Church, which saw deeper than he, had declared that there was such a place as Purgatory, and that was enough.”
Andrew. "Don't be offended, sir, if I say what I think on this subject. It is this, that Purgatory would never be so much contended for if it were not for the profit which ariseth from it to the clergy. I can well remember, sir, when I used to give you money to help to pay for masses to get my old acquaintances and friends out of Purgatory. Now, sir, if you have such a power, I think you ought to be very happy to use it, merely out of charity to the poor burning souls, without looking for any payment. But when I see that all these masses must be paid for before they can be said, I cannot but suspect that the true cause why Purgatory is maintained is the benefit which arises from it to the clergy. Nor can I be persuaded that they are sincere until I see them taking all the pains in their power, without fee or reward, to help the souls that they say are in a suffering state. Even then, though I shall believe them to be in earnest, I shall from Holy Scripture oppose the doctrine, because, beside other objections to it, it gives to Purgatory what is everywhere said to be done by the blood of Christ. According to that passage, 'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin’" (1 Jo 1:7).
Father D. "I told you before, and I tell you again, that you are a most uncharitable fellow, and no one can expect to get any good of you while you think that you know better than the Church.”
Andrew. "The Word of God, sir, is my guide, and I can admit nothing that is not proved from it.”
As they could not agree about Purgatory they were obliged to pass on to Andrew's next objection.
Praying to Saints
Andrew. "What authority, sir, have you in the Word of God for praying to saints?”
Father Dominick was now fairly aground, and could find nothing in Scripture to countenance praying to saints. He just hinted at the rich man in hell praying to Abraham. But the example of a lost soul is a bad subject of imitation for the pious on earth, and he saw this-so taking refuge again behind the infallibility of the Church, he bid Andrew go on to the next objection.
The True Way
"I could," said Andrew, "speak much about the impious titles given to the Virgin Mary, such as 'mother of mercy,' ‘refuge of sinners,' ‘gate of heaven,' &c. I could show the absurdity of beads, holy water, and so forth. But I shall come to what I think the worst of all, and that is the way in which sinners are to obtain the favor of God. I always used to think, before I read the Word of God, that if I did not commit any very great sin, and went regularly to my duties, I was a good Christian; and if, when I came to die, I enjoyed the rites of my Church there was no fear of me. This was what I learned, and all I learned, at the chapel. But since I have read the Testament I find the case is very different from what I thought it was. That Book, which contains the wisdom of God, tells me, first, that I and all mankind are sinners before God; that we all, on account of sin, deserve eternal misery; and that our nature is entirely corrupt and wicked, according to those passages: ‘That every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God' (Rom. 3:19); 'The carnal mind is enmity against God' (Rom. 8:7); 'The flesh lusteth against the Spirit' (Gal. 5:17); and 'Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornication, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness' (Mar 7:21-22). It tells me, secondly, that those who are saved are saved freely by the grace of God, through the death and merits of Jesus Christ, without any merit of their own, according to what follows: 'Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God' (Rom. 3:24-25). And, again, 'Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost' (Ti 3:5). Again, it tells me that those who partake of this Salvation are made partakers of it by faith, according to many passages which I could mention, but of which the following will be sufficient for the present purpose: 'Therefore, we conclude that a man is justified by faith' (Rom. 3:28). And, again, 'Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ' (Rom. 5:1). And, again, 'By grace are ye saved through faith' (Eph. 2:8). That Book tells me, moreover, sir, that those who are made partakers of this precious faith are by its means united to Christ, as a branch is united to its tree, or a limb to its body; that they are zealous of good works, and devote themselves to God.”
Here Andrew was interrupted by Father Dominick, who got up from his seat with much anger, telling him at the same time that if he had known how it would have been he would never have set foot in his house. Then turning to the rest of the family, he said to them: "Are you all determined to follow this fellow in his wicked apostasy from the Church?" All but the eldest daughter answered without hesitation, "that if they had any doubts before, what they saw and heard that day had convinced them that Andrew was right and that he was wrong.”
Father D. "Since this is the case, I give notice that unless by your repentance you prevent it, I will cut you all off from the Church next Sunday.”
Excommunication
So saying he took his hat, closed the door violently, got upon his horse, and rode away. Father Dominick said within himself: "This last argument will convince him, or if not, it will at least frighten his wife and children; but if this should not be the case, for example's sake they must be dealt with in this way to deter others from the like practices." Andrew, however, was not at all affected by the menaces of Father Dominick, knowing that he had no power to hurt him; but he was distressed to see a man, under the character of a minister of Christ, so ignorant of the true meaning. Father Dominick, finding that Andrew and his family held out, did cut them off (except the one of whom he had yet some hope) from the communion of the Catholic Church on the following Sunday. When Andrew was made acquainted with this, he could not but pity the man who could suppose that his state was really affected by such an exclusion as this. He knew that if he had continued in his sins he would never have been excluded, and that it was only since he became acquainted with the Gospel that he became an object of dislike to Father Dominick. He rather rejoiced, therefore, that he was accounted worthy to suffer shame for the sake of his heavenly Master, and earnestly prayed that he might be enabled to bear insult and opposition without anger and impatience.
Obtains a Bible
In the course of reading the New Testament Andrew perceived that there were many passages which referred to another Book with which he had no acquaintance, and without which he saw that those passages were not easily, if at all, intelligible. Unwilling to leave any part of it without being cleared up, he felt a strong desire to know what the Book in question was; and not knowing any one whom he thought so well qualified to answer his inquiries on this head as the kind lady who had given him the Testament, he determined within himself that he would take an opportunity of letting her know his perplexity, and asking her advice. He wished, too, to take an opportunity of thanking her for her former present. He accordingly seized upon the first occasion which offered, to express his grateful sense of the kindness which this good lady had shown him, and after many apologies, begged leave to ask her whether he could get the Book which was so often spoken of in the Testament, as he saw plainly that till he got that, many parts of what he had read would remain unintelligible to him. She told him the Book referred to was the Old Testament, or that part of the sacred Scriptures which was written before our Savior's appearing on earth. At the same time she promised to get him a Bible, which comprehends both the Old and New Testaments. Accordingly Andrew was made happy after a short time by the possession of a Bible. He read the Old Testament with great satisfaction, and though there were parts which he did not understand, yet there were many more which he did. He was much delighted with the account of the deliverance of the children of Israel from Egypt, and their victorious entrance into the land of Canaan. "Aye," he would say, "I, too, was once a wretched slave to sin, but Divine grace hath set me free; and though I am now passing through the wilderness of this world, the time is at hand when my God shall put me into possession of the heavenly Canaan!" The book of Psalms was a rich mine of spiritual treasure to him; and let his situation or feelings be what they might, he seldom opened that part of the sacred volume but he found something in it suited to his case. He found also great delight in reading the prophecies of Isaiah. In short, Andrew perceived that delightful correspondence between the Old and New Testaments, which proved that both were dictated by the same Spirit.
Family Worship
Andrew was for some time convinced that it was his duty, as head of a Christian family, to introduce family worship into his house. Since becoming acquainted with the Word of God he spent a part of every day in secret prayer. He had thrown his beads and charms of all kinds "to the moles and to the bats," and prayed simply from a sense of his wants and a desire to be blest. But though he could do this when alone he was afraid that he would be unable to do so in the presence of his family. One day he took courage and thus addressed his family: "My dear wife and children, through the Divine mercy most of us have been brought to an acquaintance with the truth. It is not enough, however, that we glorify God as individuals, we must endeavor to do so as a family. Now, one mark of distinction between such families as have the fear of God and such as have not seems to be that the former have family worship. I have for some time been hesitating about beginning it, on account of my own deficiency, but I now see that this excuse was occasioned chiefly by pride, and I am determined, by the grace of God, no longer to delay doing what I am convinced it is my duty to do. This night let us begin." They all consented; and, after supper was over, Andrew opened his Testament and read the third chapter of the Gospel by St. John. He ventured to make a few short remarks as he proceeded, and when that was done, kneeled down with his family around him and prayed. He prayed out of the abundance of his heart. He expressed his thankfulness to God for food, and raiment, and a house to live in. But he particularly praised God for His great love in sending His Son into the world to save sinners, and for giving him and the greatest part of his family to taste the richness of His grace. He offered up earnest petitions for all his friends and for all his enemies, if he had any. Nor did he forget Father Dominick. No! he besought God in his behalf and in behalf of all his flock, and prayed heartily that all the blessings of the Gospel might descend upon him and them. He prayed for the good of the land in which he lived, and for the increase of true religion everywhere, and concluded by committing himself and all his concerns into the hands of Him who "never slumbers nor sleeps.”
That night Andrew had an opportunity of observing the kindness of God in the preservation of those who put their trust in Him. About midnight he was awakened by the loud barking of his dog. He got up to find out the reason of his barking, but when he went out could see or hear nothing, so that he was returning to his bed, supposing that all was well, but on his way back he thought he perceived some smoke in the house, and upon examination found that a little coal had got into a heap of straw that lay in a corner, and that the straw had nearly taken fire, so that he had good reason to believe that if he had not been awakened so very seasonably the whole house would have been in a short time on fire, and that he and his family would either have been consumed or have made their escape with the loss of their house and their little substance. Andrew quietly stopped the progress of the mischief, and uttering an ejaculation of grateful acknowledgment to the Author of all good for His kind interference, returned to his bed. When the family was assembled according to his desire in the morning he told them what had happened, and took an opportunity of extolling the goodness of that God who had watched over him and his family.
Andrew's Greatest Enemy
When Father Dominick excommunicated Andrew and his family he talked a good deal about heresy, and insinuated pretty plainly that to hurt a heretic was an offense of no great magnitude. Now it happened that there was in the congregation one, James Nowlan, who owed Andrew a grudge on account of a preference in respect to a piece of ground which he held, and who would have had no objection, if a favorable opportunity occurred, to make him pay dearly for his advantage. Nowlan, upon hearing Andrew pronounced a heretic and roundly cursed by the priest, said within himself, "Now is my time to take my revenge upon Andrew Dunn. Father Dominick says that a heretic ought to be considered as a heathen man and a publican, that is, I suppose, that if he was in a foreign land he would be burned to death as an enemy to the Church, but that in this country it is contrary to law to burn heretics. Now, if Andrew Dunn deserves to be burned, and that nothing hinders it but heretical laws, there can be no harm, but a great deal of good, in my giving Andrew Dunn a sound flogging that he will remember as long as he lives. This will be doing God service, and the more so as I run the chance myself of suffering by the cruelty of those laws that will not allow good men to punish wicked heretics as they deserve. This is all true, and I'll show the dog that it is." Having settled the whole matter in his mind he determined that on the following night he would go up to Andrew Dunn's and inflict upon him the punishment which he had merited by his unnatural behavior to his Mother Church.
Accordingly, having crossed the fields he reached the door of Andrew's house about eight o'clock, just as he had done reading his chapter and had gone upon his knees with his family to thank God for the blessings of the day, and to implore a continuance of His favor. He stopped at the door for a minute to discover what was saying or doing within, when suddenly he heard the sound of a voice which was familiar to him. He knew it to be the voice of Andrew, but it was not like one man conversing with another, nor like anything he had ever heard. After listening for a little while, and looking through a crevice in the door, he perceived that it was Andrew in the act of praying, with his family around him. Curiosity made him listen to what he was saying, and he quite forgot the purpose of his coming in his astonishment at seeing the devotion of the man and his family. He heard him thank God for all the blessings which he enjoyed, but particularly for what He had done in redeeming him and his family from sin and death; but what affected him most was his prayers for his enemies. "O Lord," he said, "if we have any enemies in the world, forgive them, whatever unkind thoughts or designs they may have towards us. Bless them with the knowledge of Thy Salvation, and enable us on every occasion to return them good for evil!" In this strain he continued to pray for some time, during which James Nowlan was quite overcome with astonishment, and when his prayer was over he thought he could cordially embrace the man whom he had intended to injure. "What," said he to himself, "is this man a heretic? If he be, where are the Christians? Not in Father Dominick's congregation, I am sure. If all that call themselves Christians, aye, and Father Dominick himself, were like poor Andrew here, it would be a different sort of world from what it is." All his purposes of hostility against Andrew were at once laid aside, and he began to blame himself severely for having formed a design to hurt him. "Hurt him," said he, "God forbid! No, let my right hand forget to work rather than I should employ it to injure such a man.”
Becomes His Greatest Friend
He was going away, but he recollected himself a little, and determined that he would go in and tell Andrew what he intended to do, and ask his pardon. He accordingly knocked at the door, and being admitted by the unsuspecting family, Andrew invited him cordially to sit down by his little fire. "Did you hear," said James Nowlan, "that Father Dominick cursed you and your family last Sunday in the chapel?" "I did," replied Andrew, "and I heartily pity and pray for the poor mistaken man." "But are you not," said Nowlan, "afraid of the priest's curses?" "Not a bit," answered he, "while I know that God blesses me." "Do you know, Andrew, that I came here tonight with an intention of punishing you as a heretic, and at the same time of revenging our old quarrel about the ground?" "As to heresy," said Andrew, "he is the only heretic who departs from the Word of God, and I am willing to take the consequence of keeping to that Word against all the priests in the world. And as to the quarrel about the ground, you know, James, that there was nothing either unfair or unfriendly in my conduct about it. But if you think so, I am willing now to give up the ground, and what little improvements I have made upon it, if you have the landlord's consent. For though I have a family to provide for I would rather give up all that I have and trust in the Lord for support than that any man should have a cause of complaint against me." "God forbid," cried James, "that I should take your ground! No, Andrew, you got it fairly, keep it, and all I ask is that you will forgive my evil designs against you, and count me as your friend." "I heartily forgive you," replied Andrew, "and I pray God to convince you of your state, as He has convinced me of mine, and turn you by His grace to Himself."
Though James did not well understand the wish, yet from a conviction that it contained something that was good in itself, and needed by him, he felt himself strongly disposed to join in a hearty Amen! He now told Andrew what it was that occasioned the change in his resolution, and asked him whether it was usual for him to pray with his family in the way he had seen him. Being answered in the affirmative, he begged leave to come over sometimes and join them. "By all means," said he, "if you are not offended by my awkwardness." "No, indeed," answered he, with much warmth, "I never was affected in all my life by any prayer till I heard yours just now. As to Father Dominick, I do not know anything about what he is saying. His prayers are too learned for people such as I; and if it was not to have it to say that I was at Mass, I might as well, I think, spend the time at home. I never could, for the life of me, find out why the prayers of the chapel are said in a strange tongue. Is not plain English as good a language to pray in as any other? And then people will understand what they are saying." "What you say is all right, James; we have been long enough in ignorance. It is high time for us to begin to think for ourselves." He then informed him that about the same hour every evening he would find them engaged in the same way in which he had then found them, and assured him that they would all be glad to see him, and that if he would come a little sooner he might partake with them in the little supper. James thanked him, and took his leave for that night. On his way home he could not help musing on the transactions of the evening. "I came out," said he to himself, "with a determination of giving Andrew Dunn a sound beating, nor did much care if I killed him outright, and here am I now going back, not only without having touched a hair of his head, but full of admiration for the man, and reproaching myself in my own mind for having formed the design of hurting him. To judge by appearances, there is more of the Christian in Andrew than in Father Dominick.”
He slept but little during the night, and while he was at work on the following day his mind still ran upon the same subject. In the evening he went to Andrew's, and joined with him and his family at worship. Andrew was led particularly to pray for his guest, that God would be pleased to enlighten his mind and lead him into all truth. After prayer they got into conversation upon the subject of religion, and they were both so much interested that they did not observe how the time passed, and it was near twelve o'clock before they separated. It turned a good deal upon the question: "What must a poor sinner, convinced that he deserves the wrath of God, and that his heart is wicked, do to be saved?" Andrew showed James very plainly from Scripture that all the penance he could perform, and all the mortification he could submit to, and all the prayers he could say as long as he lived could not restore him to the favor of God; that the Word of God shows the only way by which it can be effected, viz., the atoning power of Christ's offering applied by faith to the soul. He showed him also how the love of Christ constrained the believer to devote himself to His service, so that he no longer continues in sin, but must hate it, and resist and overcome it. These were the topics chiefly insisted upon that night, and it pleased God to open the heart of James to receive the important truths which he heard, so that Andrew had the satisfaction in a little time of seeing him possessed of a good hope in Christ, and giving proof of this to the world.
The Shillalah Burned
This James Nowlan had been a great bully. He used to go to all the fairs and hurling matches, and pick quarrels there to make sport, or, in other words, to set people by the ears that they might cut and hack one another without mercy. He was a man of great strength, and used to carry a shillalah, which was well known by the name of Jemmy's switch. But this man whom every one feared was changed by the influence of the Gospel, and he became a striking instance of the truth, "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature" (2 Cor. 5:17). The very expression of his countenance was altered; for, before, his aspect was ferocious, and strongly marked the savage disposition that was within. But after he became possessed with genuine religion his features wore a complacent kind of smile, which indicated the composure and serenity of his soul. He brought his great stick one evening to Andrew's house, and told him he was come formally to commit to the flames the instrument with which he had so often done the work of the Devil. "This is the very weapon," said he, "with which I intended to have beaten you the night I came here for that purpose, and there can be no better place to burn it in than this." So saying, he threw it into the fire, and as it burned he said: "Blessed Redeemer! these hands have been too often employed as they should not in seeking mischief, and these eyes have too often looked with satisfaction upon scenes from which they should have turned with horror. But Thy grace has taught me to hate my former wickedness. I desire now to see no blood but the blood of Thy Cross by which my soul is redeemed. And while I look by faith on that object, may I die unto sin, and devote my powers to Thy blessed service.”
The Circle Widens
James Nowlan, having himself found Salvation, was anxious that his family should be possessed of an interest in the blessing. Accordingly he begged that they would accompany him at the usual hour to Andrew's house. They all of them showed a great deal of reluctance, and for some days absolutely refused. "A pretty thing, indeed," said they, "to go and pray with such a fellow." They could not, however, help observing the change which had taken place in James (he was no longer quarrelsome and drunken as he used to be, but stayed at home, and endeavored to make his family happy). They could not deny that Andrew Dunn (for they did not know then that it was the work of God) had accomplished in a few weeks what Father Dominick had not been able to effect by all his preaching, and penance, and holy sprinklings in twenty years. At last they took courage and determined to go. Andrew's prayer was simple and affecting, and there was not a dry eye in this little congregation. When they went home they concurred in praising Andrew, and the next night they needed no entreaties to persuade them to go. Without entering into further particulars, I shall just mention that James Nowlan's family soon began to feel the power of the Gospel, and showed the change by turning to the Lord Jesus Christ and leading a new life. Andrew had now the satisfaction also of seeing his eldest daughter upon the fullest conviction renounce her errors and embrace the truth, so that this little family was at perfect unity with itself. On Sundays they and James Nowlan's family used to meet regularly for worship and praise to God. For some time these two families alone dared to be singular to worship God in a simple and spiritual way. Others were afraid on account of Father Dominick's curses to join them, and they were exposed to much ridicule and opposition on account of their adherence to the Scriptures. However, after the first impressions occasioned by the priest's denunciations had a little worn away, some began to reflect upon the grave change which had taken place in the lives both of Andrew Dunn and James Nowlan, and particularly in the latter. They could not help observing, too, the order of their families, their kind and gracious manner one to another; they were struck also with the improvement in their outward circumstances. They supposed from what Father Dominick had said that God would by some signal providence, such as destroying his house or blasting his crops, show His displeasure against Andrew on account of his heresy. But instead of that Andrew was thriving in his worldly circumstances more than any of his neighbors in his own line of life. "Pure religion" proved to him the source of temporal profit as well as of eternal benefit, for his wife and children now became as active and industrious as they were before lazy and idle. While he was employed at the Squire's, and his son engaged in the cultivation of their little farm, his wife and daughters were to be seen cheerfully working at their wheels spinning flax. Many, from seeing these things, were induced to think more favorably of Andrew than they did at first; and after a while some took courage and ventured to come on a Sunday morning to attend the little religious meetings at his house, while others, curious to know the nature of these meetings, and afraid to enter, would listen outside at the windows, and in this they were emboldened by degrees to break through the restraint by which they were held. As Andrew made it his business simply to follow the Scriptures, and to direct those who attended at his house to take no other guide, he had the satisfaction after a little time of seeing that his feeble efforts to point out the nature of the Gospel, as contained in the sacred volume, were not in vain. He took particular pains to convince them that he did not attempt to introduce anything new, but simply to show them what the Word of God contained, that it was their business to read that Word as if they had learned nothing before, and that if they did they would find that it contained everything necessary to be known for their Salvation.
Cabin Services Commence
It pleased God also, by means of the simple persuasion of Andrew, to rouse several other people from their indifference, and to incline many to read His blessed Word; and about a dozen families began to feel a concern about everlasting things, and to read the Word of God to know if matters were as Andrew stated them. They were at first surprised, and soon after convinced. Their prejudices fell before the blessed truth of God, and Andrew had delightful employment on his hands in answering the inquiries of some, encouraging the hearts of others, and uniting with some in praising the name of that Redeemer Who had called them out of darkness into the marvelous light of His Gospel.
Andrew's cabin was now filled twice every Sunday, and though the worship held there had nothing splendid in outward show to recommend it, yet it was such as God had declared His respect to "worship in spirit and in truth." And those who met there found by blessed experience that God is as little a respecter of places as of persons. When the morning worship was over they made a little collection out of their savings during the week (See 1 Cor. 16:2). Andrew Dunn and James Nowlan were chosen as the persons to manage the little fund, which they did most faithfully, putting down in a book everything that was received and laid out. As every one was willing to contribute as far as he was able, they could do a great deal of good in the neighborhood. They had upon their list six old men who were past their labor, and each of them received out of the funds a small though welcome sum every week. They were particularly attentive to the sick, and used to visit them, and buy whatever was necessary for them. Thus "their light shone before men," and they proved that their religion was not in words, nor in show, but in faith which worketh by love.
Death of Father Dominick
About this time Andrew got an account that Father Dominick was dying. After many struggles he resolved that he would go and see him. Accordingly he went. When it was known who it was that was there, the people informed the dying man of it, supposing that Andrew was come to ask forgiveness of Father Dominick before he died. Andrew was admitted, and was much shocked to see the state in which Father Dominick was. When he saw Andrew, he cried out: "Oh, Andrew, I am a dying man, but that is not the worst of it; I am afraid my soul is lost forever!" "Say not so, sir," answered Andrew, with much emotion, "while the Word of God says that the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin." "Oh, Andrew, had I attended to your faithful reproof on the day when we talked together at your cabin I might have done well; I have a dreadful account to give in at the bar of God for the loss of souls ruined by my neglect or ignorance!" Andrew hastened away from a place where he could be of no use.
A Triumphant Termination
Two years after this time, one evening as Andrew was sitting with his family, an account was brought him that James Nowlan was very ill and wished to see him. He obeyed the summons without the least delay, and upon entering his sick friend's house, was addressed by him as follows: "Andrew, I feel myself very ill, but my soul is full of comfort. I do not know whether this sickness is unto death, but my Redeemer knows, and that's enough for me. For some time past I have desired to live only to His glory, and if He is more glorified by my death than my life I would choose rather to die than to live. Oh! how precious to my heart," cried James, "are the comfortable promises of the Gospel! How sweetly does the Name of Jesus sound in my ears!" Andrew proposed that they should pray together, and that a portion of God's Word should be read: "Oh, yes!" cried James, "let me hear the voice of my Redeemer; it is He who speaks; my soul is all attention." Andrew read 1 Cor. 15, and then kneeling down by the side of the bed, poured out his soul in fervent thankfulness to God for what He had done for his friend, and in prayers for a continuance of His supporting grace. He then returned home, but early in the morning he went again to James' house. He found him weaker in body, but strong in spirit. It was evident that he was growing worse, and both he and all about him were now convinced that he was going to be removed to a habitation in the heavens. A few hours before his departure he broke out in a kind of transport, taking up the concluding verses of the chapter which had been read the night before. "Oh death!" he cried, "where is thy sting? Oh grave! where is thy victory? thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Cor. 15:55, 57). "Yes," said he, "my Savior by His death overcame the last enemy, and He allows me to gather up the spoils." Upon seeing his family weeping, he would say, "Weep not for me, my dear wife and children, but rejoice with me, and help me to praise the Redeemer's name. I am going where I shall see Him as He is, and be forever with Him. Oh! the exceeding and eternal weight of glory, of which my ransomed soul will be a partaker!" His bodily strength grew weaker, but his soul enjoyed the most triumphant views of happiness. After remaining silent for some time, he exclaimed, "Hallelujah! blessing, and honor, and glory be unto the Lamb forever!" These were his last words, but the heavenly smile upon his countenance showed to all around the state of his mind; and the expressive manner in which he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, when unable to speak, were sufficient indications that his mental faculties were still in exercise, and that his triumph over death was complete. In a few hours his happy spirit was translated to the paradise of God. "May we die the death of the righteous, and may our last end be like his!"
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