Transcribed from the [1810s?] Augustus Applegath and Edward Cowper
edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org

                        [Picture: Pamphlet cover]





                                CHRISTIANS
                                   AND
                                INFIDELS.


          [Picture: Decorative wood cut with people and angels]

                                 LONDON:
             Printed by AUGUSTUS APPLEGATH and EDWARD COWPER
                      Duke-street, Stamford-street;
       Sold by F. COLLINS, 56, Paternoster-row; and EVANS and SONS
                        42, Long-lane, Smithfield.

                            _Price One Penny_.




CHRISTIANS AND INFIDELS.


“IF there is one condition in life more happy than another, it is surely
that of him who founds all his hopes of futurity on the promises of the
Gospel.”—These are the words of a respected author, and deserve the
consideration of every one.

The hour of death puts these principles still more strongly to the test
than any events of our lives.  There are many men who laugh at the Bible,
and reject the idea of a Saviour, and _say_ they are happier than those
who are shackled with the restraints of religion.  They _say_ they are
_happier_; yet their lives generally prove the falsity of the assertion,
and their deaths always do.  Their death-beds shew the miserable state of
those who thus reject the hope that is set before them; and, when
contrasted with the last hours of believers, the difference appears still
more strongly marked.

A strong instance of this is stated in a letter from the Rev. J. Hervey
to the well-known Beau Nash of Bath.  It is as follows:—

    “Sir, I was not long since called to visit a poor gentleman, erewhile
    of the most robust body, and of the gayest temper I ever knew.  But
    when I visited him; Oh! how was the glory departed from him!  I found
    him no more that sprightly son of joy which he used to be; but
    languishing, pining away, and withering under the chastening hand of
    God.  His limbs feeble and trembling; his countenance forlorn and
    ghastly; and the little breath he had left, sobbed out in sorrowful
    sighs!  His body hastening apace to lodge in the silent grave, the
    land of darkness and desolation.  His soul just going to God who gave
    it; preparing itself to wing away unto its long home; to enter upon
    an unchangeable and eternal state.  When I was come up into his
    chamber, and had seated myself on his bed, he first cast a most
    wishful look upon me, and then began, as well as he was able, to
    speak.  ‘Oh! that I had been wise, that I had considered my latter
    end.  Ah! Mr. Hervey, death is knocking at my doors: in a few hours
    more I shall draw my last gasp; and than judgment, the tremendous
    judgment! how shall I appear, unprepared as I am, before the
    all-knowing, and omnipotent God?  How shall I endure the day of his
    coming?’  When I mentioned, among many other things, that strict
    holiness, which he had formerly so slightly esteemed, he replied with
    a hasty eagerness: ‘Oh! that holiness is the only thing I now long
    for.  I would gladly part with a world to obtain it.  Now my
    benighted eyes are enlightened, I clearly discern the things that are
    excellent.  What is there in the place whither I am going, but God.
    Or what is there to be desired on earth but religion?’—But if this
    God should restore you to health, said I, do you think you should
    alter your former course?—‘I call heaven and earth to witness,’ said
    he, ‘I would labour for holiness, as I shall soon labour for life.
    As for riches and pleasures, and the applauses of men, I count them
    as dross—no more to my happiness than the feathers that lie on the
    floor.  Oh! if the righteous Judge would try me once more; if he
    would but reprieve, and spare me a little longer; in what a spirit
    would I spend the remainder of my days!  I would know no other
    business, aim at no other end, than perfecting myself in holiness.
    Whatever contributed to that; every means of grace; every opportunity
    of spiritual improvement, should be dearer to me than thousands of
    gold and silver.  But, alas! the best resolutions are now
    insignificant, because they are too late.  The day in which I should
    have worked is over and gone, and I see a sad horrible night
    approaching, bringing with it the blackness of darkness for ever.
    Heretofore, woe is me! when God called, I refused: when he invited, I
    was one of them that made excuse.  Now, therefore, fearfulness and
    trembling are come upon me; I smart, and am in sore anguish already;
    and yet this is but the beginning of sorrows!  It doth not yet appear
    what I shall be; but sure I shall be ruined, undone, and destroyed
    with an everlasting destruction!’

    “This sad scene I saw with mine eyes; these words, and many more,
    equally affecting, I heard with mine ears; and soon after attended
    the unhappy gentleman to his tomb.”

Let us compare this account with the last moments of Mr. HERVEY himself.
We are told, that when his dissolution drew near, he said to those about
him: “How thankful am I for death!  It is the passage to the Lord and
Giver of eternal life.  O welcome, welcome death!  Thou mayest well be
reckoned among the treasures of the Christian; ‘To live is Christ, but to
die is gain!’  ‘Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,
according to thy most holy and comfortable word; for mine eyes have seen
thy precious salvation.’—Here is my cordial! what are all the cordials
given to support the dying, in comparison of that which arises from the
promises of Salvation by Christ?—This, this supports me!”

Many instances might be given, proving that men, although learned, are as
fools, if ignorant of Christ and the way of salvation; one will be
sufficient.

Mr. HOBBES, was a celebrated Infidel in the last age, who, in bravado,
would sometimes speak very unbecoming things of God and his word.  Yet,
when alone, he was haunted with the most tormenting reflections, and
would awake in great terror, if his candle happened only to go out in the
night.  He could never bear any discourse of death, and seemed to
endeavour to cast off all thoughts of it.  He lived to be upwards of
ninety.  His last words were, when he found he could live no longer, “I
shall be glad to find a hole to creep out of the world at.”  And,
notwithstanding all his high pretensions to learning and philosophy, his
uneasiness constrained him to confess, when he drew near to the grave,
that “he was about to take a leap in the dark.”

Consider this in contrast with Dr. JOHN LELAND. who, after spending a
long life in the service of the Gospel, closed it with the following
words:—“I give my dying testimony to the truth of Christianity.  The
promises of the Gospel are my support and consolation.  They, alone,
yield me satisfaction in a dying hour.  I am not afraid to die.  The
Gospel of Christ has raised me above the fear of death; for ‘I know that
my Redeemer liveth.’”

Dr. LEECHMAN, late Principal of the College of Glasgow, at the close of
life, this addressed a young man, whose education he had partly
superintended: “You see the situation I am in.  I have not many days to
live: I am glad you have had an opportunity of witnessing the
tranquillity of my last moments.  But it is not tranquillity and
composure alone; it is joy and triumph; it is complete exultation.”  His
features kindled, his voice rose as he spake.  “And whence,” says he,
“does this exultation spring?—From _that book_, (pointing to a Bible that
lay on the table)—from _that book_, too much neglected indeed, but which
contains invaluable treasures! treasures of joy and rejoicing! for it
makes us certain that ‘this mortal shall put on immortality.’”

Let us now take a stronger contrast; namely, of the horrors of despair in
an unbeliever, and the triumphant confidence of one who had fled to
Christ for salvation, and whose hopes were founded thereon.  Many
instances of awful deaths of Infidels and Deists are well known;—those of
Voltaire, Newport, and many others, are so fully before the public, it is
unnecessary to cite them here; but the reader probably has not met with
the following account.  It occurred a few years since in London, and the
truth of it is well known.

Mr. B. was a man of considerable abilities, his manners were gentlemanly,
and being lively and gay, as well as good tempered, his company was much
sought after: with these advantages it is not surprising that he was what
the world usually calls a happy man; but we must add, that he was in the
fullest sense of the word, an Infidel.  His greatest pleasure was to
laugh at religion and to burlesque the Bible.

Thus he went on for several years, enjoying a state of strong health, and
every circumstance which could contribute to his worldly gratification.
At length he was attacked by a severe illness.  In a few days the
progress of disease was rapid;—he was alarmed, and eagerly enquired,
whether he was supposed to be in danger.  His friends observing his
alarm, and fearing a knowledge of his real state would hasten his end,
concealed his danger from him, _as is too frequently done_, endeavouring
to assure him that his illness would soon abate.  At length, he was
considered as decidedly past hope of recovery and it was become necessary
to acquaint him with his danger.  His friends did this in the mildest
manner, still endeavouring to buoy up his hopes, and to prevent him from
being alarmed; but the truth could be no longer concealed;—_he now saw
his awful state_.  Instantly he broke out into the most dreadful
exclamations, crying out, that _his soul was lost_, and, for some hours,
continued to repeat similar expressions, at the same time groaning
deeply.  After a short interval, he renewed his exclamations, declaring
he was now convinced the Bible was true, and that there was reality in
religion, and expressed the most earnest desire that his life might be
spared for a year, for a month, _or even for a week_, _that he might
declare he was convinced of the falsehood of his former opinions_.  In
this state he continued for some time, when feeling his end approaching,
he renewed his earnest wishes, that if he could not be spared for a week,
_a day_, _a single day_, might be granted, “that he might warn others, as
he himself was going to hell.”  At length he cried out, “_I am sinking
into hell_!—_Oh_! _the burning_—_the burning_—_the torments of hell_!”
This, and similar exclamations, he continued to utter, while life lasted,
(for about thirty hours longer,) shrieking and groaning so dreadfully
that his friends all fled from his bed-side, and even the nurse,
accustomed as she was to death-bed scenes, could scarcely be induced to
continue in the room.  At length he expired, on the third day after his
danger was communicated to him; the whole interval having been a
continued scene of horror and despair, which the pen fails to describe,
and the imagination is unable fully to conceive.

From this dreadful picture, let us turn to a brighter scene—the following
extracts present us with an account of the last hours of the learned and
excellent Bishop BEDELL.

After a life spent in the most laborious service of his Divine Master,
when he apprehended his great change to draw near, he called for his
family and spake to them, at several times, as he was able, as nearly as
could be recollected, in the following words; with many other similar
expressions:—

    “I am going the way of all flesh: ‘The time of my departure is at
    hand.’  Knowing, therefore, that ‘shortly I must put off this
    tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shown me.  I know
    also, that if this my earthly house of this tabernacle were
    dissolved, I have a building of God, a house not made with hands,
    eternal in the heavens.’  Therefore, to ‘me to live is Christ, and to
    die is gain; which increaseth my desire even now to depart, and to be
    with Christ, which is far better’ than to continue here in all
    transitory, vain, and false pleasures of this world, of which I have
    seen an end.

    “Hearken, therefore, unto the last words of your dying father.  ‘I am
    no more in this world, but ye are in the world.  I ascend to my
    Father and your Father, to my God and your God,’ through the
    all-sufficient merits of Jesus Christ, my Redeemer; ‘who ever lives
    to make intercession for me;’ who is ‘a propitiation’ for my sins,
    and washed me from them all in his own blood; who is ‘worthy to
    receive glory and honour, and power; who hath created all things, and
    for whose pleasure they are and were created.’

    “I had a desire and resolution to walk before God in every stage of
    my pilgrimage, from my youth up to this day, in truth and with an
    upright heart, and to do that which was upright in his eyes to the
    utmost of my power; and ‘what things were gain to me formerly, these
    things I count now loss for Christ: yea, doubtless, and I count all
    things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ
    my Lord; for whom I have suffered the loss of all things; and I count
    them as nothing, that I may win Christ, and be found in him, not
    having my own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is
    through the faith of Christ, the righteousness, which is of God by
    faith.’

    “Let nothing separate you from the love of Christ.  ‘In all things we
    are more than conquerors, through him that loved us: for I am
    persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
    principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
    nor height, nor depth, nor any creature, shall be able to separate me
    from the love of God in Christ Jesus, my Lord.’  Therefore, ‘love not
    the world, nor the things of the world;’ but prepare daily and hourly
    for death, which besieges us on every side; and be faithful unto
    death, that we may meet together joyfully on the right hand of Christ
    at the last day, and ‘follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth;’ with
    all those that are clothed in white robes in sign of innocency, and
    palms in their hands in sign of victory; ‘which came out of great
    tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the
    blood of the Lamb.’”

Afterwards he blessed his children and those who stood about him, in
these words,

    “God of his infinite mercy bless you all, and present you holy and
    unblameable, and irreprovable in his sight, that ye may meet together
    at the right hand of our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ, ‘with joy
    unspeakable and full of glory.’  Amen!”

And after a little interval, he said,

    “‘I have kept the faith’ once given to the saints; for the which
    cause I have also suffered these things: ‘but I am not ashamed, for I
    know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to
    keep that which I have committed to him against that day.’”

After this, the good Bishop spake little more.  His sickness increased,
his speech failed, and he slumbered the remainder of his time away, till
his discharge came.

Let Incredulity itself say, if this was not a desirable close of so
useful a life as this excellent man is known to have lived.  We may defy
all the sons of Infidelity to show us an example among their brethren, of
a life so useful, and a death so great, so noble, so glorious as this of
the good Bishop.

Reader, these things are true.  Consider them;—reflect upon them;—ask
yourself which you wish to be your own case.  Do _you_ wish to die like
an Infidel, or like a Christian?—upon this question there can be no
doubt.  Flee then, while there is time, to the only Refuge.  Seek the
Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near.  Flee to
Christ, who shed his blood upon the cross for a ransom for many; he has
said that those who come to him in faith, he will not cast out.  Read
again the account of the last hours of Bishop Bedell; weigh carefully
every word he uttered; and pray that the Holy Spirit may bless it to your
soul, and that you may be of the number who are saved from everlasting
perdition.

                                * * * * *

                                * * * * *

_London_: _Printed by_ AUGUSTUS APPLEGATH _and_ EDWARD COWPER,
_Duke-street_, _Stamford-street_; _and sold by_ F. COLLINS, _No._ 56,
_Paternoster-row_; _and_ EVANS _and_ SONS, 42, _Long-lane_, _Smithfield_.