The paradise of God opened to a penitent thief, in answer to his dying prayer to a dying Saviour, considered and improved in a sermon; the substance of which was delivered at Taunton, November 11, 1784. Upon the day of the execution of John Dixson, for burglary, aetat 24. : With an appendix, on the nature and enormity of burglary. : And a sketch of Dixson's life. / By Peres Fobes, A.M. A.A.S. Pastor of the church in Raynham. ; [Four lines of Scripture texts]

A SERMON, &c.

LUKE, xxiii.42, 43.

'And he said unto Jesus, Lord remember me when thou comest into thy Kingdom; and Jesus said unto him, verily I say unto you, to Day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.'

IN this pitiable object, who stands before us, we behold, at once, an instance of the folly and wick|edness of human nature, and a moving spectacle of won|der and horror, 'to the world, to angels, and to men.' He is one of our kindred race, who, for a capital crime, has lately received, from an earthly tribunal, a sentence of death, which is this day to be carried into final, fa|tal execution upon him.

This is the tragical scene, and most solemn occasion, which have brought together this numerous assembly. O the day, the critical day, is come! the decisive hour is at hand, which must end a mortal life, and fix an im|mortal soul in heaven or hell! before this sun goes down, his body, now vigorous and active, will be a lifeless ghastly corps, coffined and buried, deep down among the sheeted dead, while his ever-existing soul, like the dying miser's in the gospel, 'this night,' yea, before night, 'will be required of him,' and sent into the world of spirits, to smile or mourn forever. To this poor prisoner, therefore, if not to some of us, it is beyond all doubt, that this is the last opportunity for public worship; and the only message from the gospel of peace, which he will ever hear in this world. And O may he so hear that his soul shall live! for this, 'God forbid that any of us should cease to pray,' until he ceases to breath—let every heart in this great audience, be lifted up to heaven, in fervent, united prayer to the 'Father of Mercies,' that the same 'exceeding abun|dant grace,' which was once so gloriously magnified, and most triumphantly displayed, in pardoning a penitent

thief, may this day reach and conquer the heart of this malefactor. Oh that the divine Philanthropist, the in|imitable original of all love and compassion to our guilty race, who once spoke from his own cross, the merciful words recorded in the text, to a dying criminal, would again speak, 'as the Lord from Heaven,' to another, and 'say unto him, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.'

SUCH observations and memoirs, on the life of this penitent malefactor and his unrelenting companion, as can be made practically useful, I propose to consider, carefully avoiding all unconcerning speculations, all dry unaffecting truths, lest I incur upon this occasion the deserved censure of that cruel father, who, 'when his son asks him for bread will give him a stone.' 'This I say brethren, the time is short,' every moment is pre|cious beyond comparison, an immortal soul is at stake; some of the last sands in the glass of a mortal life are this instant falling upon the very verge of life, just ready to plunge into eternity; there he stands in jeopardy every hour, yea every passing minute. Hasten to the point then, let us immediately, the interesting practical point, which for the sake of method, may be divided and distinctly considered in the manner following:

I. DESCRIBE the character of this dying thief, as a real penitent.

II. CONSIDER the promise our Lord made to him as such.

III. APPLY the subject to ourselves, and to this cri|minal in particular.

I. THE person whose character, as a penitent, we are now to describe is by the sacred penmen stiled a malefactor and a thief, by which it is more than pro|bable that he had been addicted to many other vices besides theft, though this alone is mentioned. An as|cendant vice or ruling passion of some kinds may pos|sibly be found single and alone in the same person; such as avarice, intemperance and the like; but whoever

well considers the composition of human nature, will at once acknowledge that those crimes which are the re|sult of deliberation and forethought (as theft usually is) can but rarely, if ever, exist alone and unaccompanied with other vices. Common sense hath so far adopted this idea, as to frame a proverbial saying upon its ge|neral truth. 'They who steal will lie;' which is further supported by a passage of scripture well known by the name of Augur's prayer—'give me not poverty, lest I steal and lie, or take the name of my God in vain.' This being considered, it will, perhaps, be natural to conclude that this thief had been a very lewd, prophane, abandoned creature, one of the mere rabble rout of wretched men; and that he had spent his days, and now almost finished his life, in a licentious course of flagrant vice—'as in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man.' But how far the heart or life of the malefactor here described answereth to that who is here present, is only known to God and his own con|science. 'Cursed be that pride, for it is cruel,' and that pleasure, for it is sordid, ill-natured and infernal, which too often seek indulgence, in upbraiding and 'tormenting' a fellow-sinner 'before the time.'—I have suggested a comparison of characters in this in|stance, as I may in some others, only for the sake of salutary conviction. But however vicious and profli|gate the malefactor under consideration had been, yet we are from the best authority assured, that through 'the exceeding abundant grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,' he was led to repentance, and received a full pardon; and for this cause he, as well as persecuting Saul and others, obtained mercy, that in them Jesus Christ might shew forth all long suffering, for a pattern to them who should hereafter believe on him. Let every other relenting criminal look at these patterns of mercy, and flee, instantly flee, for life, flee for refuge, to lay hold upon the hope, the same all-glorious hope set before them.

THE evidence upon which we consider this thief as a true penitent, arises from the subsequent induction of particulars.

1. HE evidently had a sense and conviction of heart that he deserved to die—'we indeed (says he to his comrade) suffer justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds.' This is the language of a penitent, and it implies at least that he approved of his own sentence, which in case of theft was, according to the Roman law, death, by crucifixion; nor does it appear that he once disputed the justice of a law which made his crime, or any other besides murder, a capital offence. This however has been called in question by too many among us, and even by this prisoner, who yet owns his desert of death by the divine law. The thought is indeed painful and degrading, that any should openly dispute the justice of that sentence, founded as it is up|on one of our own laws, and which they have this day come to see executed upon this unhappy prisoner. Is there not sufficient cause, my friends, for all the emo|tions of benevolent pity, and the most generous com|passion towards his person, even while indignation and horror arise in our hearts against his crime: Certainly there is; indulge them freely then upon this occasion; our Saviour himself pitied and wept over obdurate Je|rusalem, at the very time he expressed his dislike and abhorrence of her conduct in stoning the prophets. Resentment and benevolence are 'both joined together in this divine example, let no man put them asunder.' No man can be tempted to do it, who properly considers the atrocious nature of burglary (the name of the crime for which this prisoner must die.) When the tender pas|sions rise, and run before reason, or, if through inatten|tion, or an ill-judged pity, we do not consider the nature, nor trace the consequences of a crime, we shall mistake and pronounce that rigour and cruelty, which is only a necessary guard to life, peace and property.* 1.1 It is worthy of particular notice, that when this penitent thief

was actually nailed to the cross, he frankly owns, for himself and his companion, that the penalty was just in death; 'we suffer justly,' was his honest confession; and it looks like true repentance, because it further implies that,

2. HE had a painful and affecting sense of the in|trinsic evil and baseness of his crime, as committed against God, and considered as a violation and contempt of his law and government. The words in which he expresses his guilt and desert of punishment, strongly imply a sense and sorrow of heart, not merely because he had by theft injured his fellow-men and violated a law of his country, which forbid it, but chiefly because he had, transgressed 'the law of his God,' which saith, 'thou shalt not steal'—'by this law is the knowledge of sin;' and here, as in a glass, the penitent beholds all the deformed features of his depraved soul, and the num|berless foul spots and errors of his unhallowed life: He looks within, and there he finds an heart stupid and stubborn, and full of the lumber of the world, proud, and prone to rebel, disaffected to God and his law, de|ceitful above all things, and above all, deceitful to it|self. Here on his heart lies the burden of his sorrow and complaint. 'The commandment is exceeding broad,' in his view, reaching every thought of his heart, as well as every action of his life; and even while he finds himself condemned by this law, he feels his very heart echoing to it, in all its precepts, prohi|bitions and penalties, as 'holy, just and good.'—This, in a word, paints and places sin before his eyes, in all its hateful colours and horrid deformity: This renders it 'exceeding sinful,' and above all, as it is against God, a holy God. Oh the relentings and remorse of David's broken heart, when he thought on his crime as committed against such a God. Swallowed up in grief and horror on this account, he seems almost to have forgotten that ever he had injured Uriah or Bathsheba, or any other being except God:—'Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight.'

Such a view of sin also made Joseph prefer a dungeon to forbidden pleasure, and bound him, though in all the heat and vivacity of youth, 'in cords and fetters,' stronger than the seven cords of Sampson, or chains of adamant. 'How shall I do this great wickedness and sin against God.' This, to add one instance more, this pierced deepest into the heart of the prodigal son, when 'he came to himself,' and thought on a return, and on what he had been doing; 'father (said he) I have sinned against heaven, and before thee.' A view of sin like this is an essential ingredient in the nature of all true repentance; for a person may hate sin, and be very sorry for it, merely because it has blackened his character, hurt his temporal interest, disgraced his family, brought pain and punishment on his body, or because it will ruin his soul forever—If such sorrow as this were true repentance, then Judas and Pharaoh and Simon Magus, and almost all malefactors condemned to die, are true penitents. Self-love, and not the love of God, aversion to pain, and not to sin as such, are the principles from whence flow all sorrow and re|pentance of this kind; while that which deserves the name is a very different and much more disinterested thing; it springs from a real sense and sight of the ma|lignity of sin, in its own nature; and hence every true penitent has a kind of inbred antipathy, a deep-rooted hatred to every sin, to one as well as another; like David 'he hates every false way,' without one excepti|on, and without any indulgence to a favourite iniquity.

BUT the sorrows of true repentance, will appear still more kindly and ingenuous, if we consider

3. THAT a belief of the pardoning mercy of God through Christ is implied in it; and this is another proof that this thief was really a penitent; for he ad|dresses our Saviour with the title of Lord, 'Lord re|member me in thy kingdom;' which implies a belief of the divinity of his person, his mission and commission from God, his delegated authority in the kingdom of providence and grace, with the compleatness of his

atonement and perfection of his righteousness unto all, and upon all that believe. Were it not for the hope of mercy and forgiveness with God, to a penitent, his would sink under the weight of numberless, soul crimes, into sullen despair. Adam, without a reve|lation of mercy, never would have solicited for pardon, but remained incorrigibly wicked, like the apostate angels, who being excluded the hope of pardon, are confirmed in eternal rebellion; from which apostate man is delivered, only by those reviving beams of hope, which emanating from Jesus, the glorious son of righte|ousness, and passing through the gospel, that blessed medium of his grace, enter the dark ill-boding soul, and dispel the incumbent gloom of hopeless horror and torpid despair; believing that paradise is open to re|pentance, and Jesus hath power in heaven, as he once had on earth, to forgive sins, yea, that he is actually ex|alted at God's right-hand, to give remission of sins as well as repentance. The guilty offender looks to him for both; to him who was pierced he looks, and mourns, being himself pierced and melted by the kindly beams of a Saviour's love. On his merits alone he rests, and not on the merit of his own repentance, prayers, or reformation, to recommend him to the di|vine favour; and if pardoning mercy is found, with what rapturous joy and filial affection, gratitude and admiration, does the pardoned penitent magnify and extol the divine mercy! Like Niobe, the forgiven fe|male penitent, who at once melted into a flood of nitential tears, and 'loved much, because much was forgiven her.' Again,

4. A TRUE penitent is always willing and ready to confess his sins; and this testimony also have we, that this malefactor's repentance pleased God; for he made a very humble public confession, and it really looks like an honest one, because it came from his own mouth freely, Sorrow, upon a real sight of the turpitude and baseness of sin, does not more freely flow from the heart, than confession from the mouth will follow:

Extorted confessions are always suspected, and well they may, for Judas, the traitor, made a confession, yea and restitution also, but they were both good for nothing, unless to prove him a hypocrite, because they were both forced from him by the rack and torture of a guilty conscience, and the dread of punishment. This, and not any real repentance for his crime, wrung them out. This also kindled up such an hell within as drove him on, in frantic horror, to make his escape, by leap|ing into an hell before him. 'I have sinned (says he) in that I have betrayed innocent blood, and he cast down the pieces of silver, and went and hanged himself.' How different this, from the bitter repentance of Peter, the confession and restitution of Zacheus and others, who, from a real and inveterate hatred of sin, have both confessed and forsaken it. Let every one therefore who hopes to find mercy of the Lord remember his faults this day, and make confession of them, both to God and man, to those in particular whom we have at any time injured, either in name or interest; and 'as much as in us lieth,' make all reasonable satisfaction, relying upon the divine mercy and promise for pardon; 'if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to for|give them, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'

5. THE fear of God, with which the heart of this malefactor was principled and governed, bears further attestation to the sincerity of his repentance: Addressing his companion, he said, 'dost not thou fear God.' I fear him, and therefore dare not affront him, as thou doest, by prophanely mocking and railing on his dying son. The fear of God, when sweetened and animated with love, is that filial reverence and pious passion of the soul, which, in scripture, is so fre|quently put for the whole circle of christian graces and duties. To fear God and keep his commandments is the whole duty of man; it is one of the most active principles in the composition of a heaven-born soul; it gently touches all its inmost springs, and sets the soul in motion, rapid incessant motion, towards its

proper object, restraining at once from every ap|pearance of evil, and constraining to a uniform, uni|versal obedience. Under the influence of this sacred passion Nehemiah renounced those oppressive measures which former governors had pursued; 'so did not I, because of the fear of God;' and 'moved with fear' of the same kind, 'Noah prepared an ark,' in obedience to the will and warning of his God, Heb. 11. In this, considered either as a passion or principle, true repen|tance is evidently implied, and must in both cases be taken into the account, as a material ingredient; for 'by their fruits ye shall know them,' as well as other graces in their true distinctive characters, so far as they can be known; but the fruits of both fear and repentance are the same, and interchangeably produce each other. Agreeably when the apostle is enumerating the fruits of godly sorrow and repentance unto salvation, he gives fear a place in the list; 'what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, &c.' Upon the other hand, we read, 'fear the Lord, and depart from evil; stand in awe, and sin not.' From all which it is manifest, that evangelical obedience and reformation are equally the fruit both of fear and repentance, and therefore, as this thief feared God, he was a penitent. But further,

6. THE admonition which he gave to his suffering companion on the cross is an additional evidence of the genuiness of his repentance: When this impious thief railed upon Christ, and said, 'if thou be the Christ, come down from the cross and save thyself and us.' The other looked upon him with anger, being grieved for the hardness of his heart, and said, 'thou, even thou thyself art in the same condemnation,' and yet darest thou with thy dying breath thus enhance thy guilt, and add to all thy other crimes such insolence and outrage, even in the immediate view of death and the judgment seat. 'Thus he was reproved.' This faithful reprover having himself tasted, yea, was now actually drinking the bitter cup, 'the wormwood and the gall,' of a vi|cious

life, and knew full well that sin was the sting of sorrow as well as of death; 'when he saw this thief, he consented with him, and was a partaker both of his sins and of his plagues.' What now can he do more? Nay, what can he do less, than give him a parting reproof, and bid others take warning? It is the last opportunity, and perhaps the only way left to make any compen|sation for the injury he had done his soul, which was now ready to sink into the bottomless pit: He pities him; his heart is full of benevolence, and in his tongue is the law of kindness; he openeth his mouth, and a reproof, the reproof of wisdom, is there, with which he makes his last, his dying effort, to save his wretched comrade, 'pulling him out of the fire.' Let others 'learn of him to go and do likewise.' Unblameable and unreprovable in the sight of all men, and pure as the gold of which the snuffers in the Jewish sanctuary were made, ought they, in general, to be, who undertake the office of correcting and reforming others; yet 'the day of death,' the last hour of life, gives to the vilest a kind of licence to speak, and adds weight and energy to their dying words. May they be, in every such in|stance, 'the words of truth and soberness,' of admo|nition and warning to all, especially to those who have been either principals or accomplices in wickedness, or who may after all once dare to do as others have done. Experience, fatal indeed to some, but 'life from the dead' to others, if the fault be not their own, speaks to our eyes as their words do in our ears; and the plain language of both is, 'the way of transgression is hard,' 'a companion of fools shall be destroyed;' and that 'sin, though sweet in the mouth, is bitter in the belly, and ever will be bitterness in the latter end.'

7. THE tender concern which this malefactor shewed for the glory of God, and the honor and reputation of his injured Son, is another substantial proof of his real penitence. He 'gave glory to God, by making con|fession,' and by vindicating the character of his dear Son. The barbarous treatment which his innocent

Lord received from the rude multitude, the insults offered him, when suffering the keen tortures of cru|cifixion, and actually in the agonies of death, deeply affected him. 'The reproaches of them that reproached him,' fell heavy upon his heart; it was full, and he opened his mouth and said, 'this man hath done nothing amiss—we indeed suffer guilty, but he is harm|less and holy.' The other thief joined the multitude in mocking and condemning Christ, expecting per|haps in that way to get a release—But this man stands alone, and dares, in direct opposition to the rooted, rancorous prejudices of the people, and in defiance of the sentence of two courts against him, he dares openly justify and acquit him; 'this man hath done nothing amiss.' Here is the honest intrepidity of virtue! And it ever ought to be expected, that every dying penitent will, in his last moments, and in all his suf|ferings 'justify God,' and vindicate, at every risque, those innocent persons and characters that may have been wronged by their means: This is a debt of resti|tution, which every man owes his God and country; yea, commutative justice lays its hands on every of|fender, and like the rigorous servant in the parable, takes him by the throat, saying, 'pay me that thou owest.' Once more,

8. Last. EVERY real penitent, as such, is a man of prayer. 'The Lord is good and ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all that call upon him;' and upon him for mercy the repenting sinner will call with as much fervency as Daniel prayed in the lion's den, or Jo|nah in the belly of hell, for deliverance. Stung with a sense of his guilt, penitent David prays as if the ghost of Uriah, bespattered with blood was constantly in his sight, and actually reproaching him for his treacherous cruelty; 'deliver me, O God (says he) thou God of my salvation, deliver me from blood-guiltiness, have mercy on me, O Lord; according to the multitude of thy tender mercies, blot out my transgression, wash me from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.'

This is prayer, and a proof of genuine penitence. Such proof as this had this condemned thief, that he was himself a penitent in heart, 'for behold he prayeth,' 'Lord remember me in thy kingdom:' This was his prayer, the prayer of a dying thief to a dying Saviour; it was short, but a very comprehensive prayer; it con|tains, yea, it really is, the prayer of faith, of humility, and of great importunity; he addresses Christ as Lord, the Lord of a kingdom which was not of this world: and this, as already observed, implies faith; he shews great humility in his prayer to this all-sufficient Saviour, 'Lord remember me.' He seeks for no pre|ferment; he asks not to sit on his right-hand or his left in his kingdom, as others had done; neither does he prescribe any particular way in which he would be remembered; he only begs a remembrance with Christ, that is all; and for this he is exceedingly earnest and importunate. He seems to breathe out his whole soul in the request, 'Lord remember me,' and I have enough, 'remember me,' and I have infinitely more than I deserve! remember me, O Lord, and I ask no more. 'For mercy Lord, is my request; this is the total sum; mercy, good Lord, is all my suit; O let thy mercy come!' Come, come it did; for 'Jesus said unto him, verily I say unto you, to day shalt thou be with me in paradise.' This was the promise which our Lord made to this praying penitent—and the import of it was,

II. THE second consideration in the proposed method of this discourse; to which I shall now attend in a few words.

THIS promise was indeed made by our divine Lord in person, and addressed to this thief in particular, while they were both upon the cross; but as Jesus is now in paradise above, at his Father's right-hand, and hath still in his own hand the mediatorial kingdom of grace, and ever liveth to make intercession for us: We may, every person who deserves the character of a true penitent, may properly and personally apply the

same promise to himself, and say in his dying hour, 'to day shall I be with Christ in paradise.'—Paradise, in al|lusion to that delightful place on earth where our first parents lived in their innocent, primeval state, is here put for heaven. The river of pleasure, the tree of life, and other scenes of earthly joy and felicity, that once were in it, rendered the place, beyond all others, the fittest resemblance of that paradise above, into which the holy Jesus promised this dying thief an immediate 'and abundant entrance.' This promise, if connected and compared with other passages of scripture, implies,

1. THAT there is another life after this, or that the soul will exist, after the death of the body, in a separate state. 'To day thou' i. e. thy soul 'shall be with me, &c.' And as the soul is said to be not merely with angels and glorified spirits, but with Jesus himself, who is the same yesterday, to day, and forever; it further implies,

2. THE immortality of the soul, or that its existence shall never end. And also,

3. THAT the souls of just men are immediately after death made perfect; being absent from the body, are present with the Lord in a paradise of everlasting joy. 'To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.' But a par|ticular consideration of these truths must, for the pre|sent, give place to another, very evidently implied in the promise, and which is indeed the wonder, weight and glory of it: It is the astonishing grace and conde|scension of our Lord Jesus Christ toward perishing men. How willing and ready is the all-loving and all-lovely Sa|viour, to hear the prayer of the humble and contrite soul, and to receive it to his everlasting mercy? How soon did the prayer of this penitent reach the ear of the all-compassionate Redeemer? 'While he was yet speaking,' Jesus answered 'Amen.' Thy petition is given thee; to the half, yea, to the whole of my kingdom; in which you shall have not only the remembrance of an absent friend in my mind, but a seat in my kingdom, yea, a place in my very bosom; 'that where I am,

there you may be also, and behold my glory.' O what a marvellous mixture of unrivalled mercy and dignity are here displayed in triumph! Mercy to the dying thief, but dignity and regal majesty, in speaking to him, from the cross, as from a throne; not only 'to dispense pardons, but dispose of seats in paradise.' The Saviour was now agonizing on the cross, with every appendage of infamy and distress, deserted by his friends and by his God, while his merciless enemies were insulting and triumphing over him; yet he endured all with patience; and with the thunder-bolts of their in|stant destruction in his hand, this meek, inoffensive Lamb opened not his mouth; he was deaf and dumb to all the bitter reproaches, both of the multitude and of this abandoned thief, then expiring at his side; but as soon as the other addressed him in prayer, he heard, he spoke, and heaven was given him at his petition! Oh the riches of almighty, unmerited grace! A par|don, a paradise of eternal happiness given to a thief, offered as freely to the other, and to a third, yea, to all who will humbly and freely accept what he freely gives. Can this be possible? He who made the promise fore|saw that it 'would be thought a thing incredible with us,' and therefore he hath confirmed it with an oath; 'verily, I say unto you, to day, &c.' This is indeed an instance of the power of sovereign, surprizing grace, at which men and angels will never cease to admire and wonder; but it stands not alone; other trophies have been erected beneath the banners of the same cross: Saul, of Tarsus, a bloody persecutor, the oppressing Zacheus, a publican, murderous Manasseh, the ido|later, yea, the betrayers and murderers of the Son of God at Jerusalem, with that long black roll of noto|rious criminals at Corinth. These, 'such were these,' and such have been numbers more, 'but they are washed,' in the very blood, which some of their own wicked hands had shed, 'but they are sanctified, but they are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the spirit of our God.' And through the power of

the same meritorious blood, peace and pardon await the guilty still. Grace is yet on the throne, and 'reigns through righteousness unto eternal life.' Its sphere of benign influence hath extended back to the beginning of the creation of God, and will reach forward to the general conflagration, 'and nothing is hid from the heat thereof; it is unto all, and upon all that believe,' without difference either of time, place or character. Gracious encouragement! joyful truth! and written too, as with a sun-beam, in the repeated and indefinite invitations of the glorious gospel: 'Whoever will let him come, and him that cometh I will in no wise cast out,' is his language, who came to bring peace on earth and good-will to men: For this he breathed forth that most pathetical wish, 'O that thou hadst known in this thy day the things which belong unto thy peace!' For this he poured out that ardent prayer, even for his murderers, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' For this his tears flowed out with his prayers; 'Jesus wept,' when he beheld the city of Jerusalem, where his murderers lived; he melted into tears of compassion over those inhuman wretches who crucified and slew the Lord of glory: Yea, let higher wonder rise, for he, after all this, made the first offer of himself as a Saviour to those who nailed him to the cross as a malefactor—and that none might suspect the sincerity of his heart in all he has said and done, he hath even sworn, that he hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that he turn and live. Now, if the most winning invitations, solemn oaths, pathetic wishes, affectionate tears, and ardent prayers cannot sufficiently prove his love and willingness to save, then reject them all, refuse his oath, and take his blood in proof of the darling point; for this he shed as well as his tears, this he poured forth as well as his prayers, for those whose wicked hands spilt and reeked with his vital gore! Is this the manner of man, O Lord? Are not the chief offenders made examples of justice? With men they are, but with Jesus they are sometimes

the chosen vessels and examples of his mercy! Be not faithless then, nor suspicious of Christ's willingness to save; for it is infinitely greater than your own to be saved by him. That a king on earth should be more ready to pardon than the rebel to receive it, is incre|dible indeed; but let Jesus be king, and it is true as the everlasting gospel which declares it. 'O Jerusalem, Jerusalem (said Christ, with tears in his eyes) how often would I have gathered thee, but you would not.' Hear this, with a dull insensibility, or stupid indifference who can? Believe this, guilty man, and leap for joy, look to Jesus, and immediately lay hold on eternal life! But this leads me

III. To apply the subject.

1. WHAT a marvellous illustration does the subject give us, both of the efficacy and inefficacy of the means of grace, upon different persons under the same circumstances. Here are two men who had committed the same crime, both thieves, condemned to the same death, and at the same time nailed to the same cross, at equal distance perhaps from the same Saviour, who hung between them both; and both, for aught ap|pears, enjoyed equal advantages from the instructions and example of Christ; and yet 'Christ crucified was to the one as a Saviour of life unto life, and to the other of death unto death.' One saw the Saviour in the suf|ferer, and became a penitent, the other refused, and hardened his heart. One of them went out of the world praying to the Saviour of it, the other expired reviling and cursing him.—If he who died a penitent was unacquainted with Christ before he came to the cross, which is the common opinion, then his con|version must, and will be acknowledged a rare, but glorious instance, both of the power and sovereignty of divine grace; as the other evidently was of the power of sin, and of the sottishness and depravity of the hu|man heart! The heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is in their heart while they live.' This thief was now in the most acute pain, the most pungent

distress, having but a few minutes to live, upon the very point to plunge into eternity; a fellow-sufferer in the agonies of death before his eyes, whose dying groans doubtless pierced his ears while upon the cross, to which he was nailed, naked, and exposed to shame and ignominy from the scoffing, surrounding mul|titude, a Saviour praying for his murderers on his side, with blood streaming from his mangled body, full in view; and yet, 'be astonished O heavens,' he was hardened still! 'Bray a fool in a mortar, yet will not his folly depart from him.' 'So then, neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth, but God that giveth the increase;' to him let every eye look, in the diligent use of the means of his own appointment, and not vainly imagine, as some have done, that if they could but enjoy such as others have enjoyed, or as might be afforded, success would ensue; 'to the law and the testimony,' these are perfect; but if these 'convert not the soul, nor make wise the simple,' if Moses and the prophets are not heard; 'neither will you be persuaded though one rose from the dead;' nay, it would not avail, if you could this day stand under the very cross of Christ, and have 'all your raiment stained,' with his blood distilling and streaming fresh upon it; or were ye even lifted up on the cross, like this thief, with a Saviour praying and dying by your side.

2. How great and affecting is that change, which is made by death in the same person. This we have often seen with our own eyes; we shall see it again in a few hours, in the unhappy prisoner before us; and ere long we ourselves must all feel and undergo it in our own persons: Yes, the fairest forms and finest features, all the strength and agility of body, the lilly and rose in the cheek, the sparkling eye and charming glee, must all fade, shortly fade away, and become lifeless de|formity and loathsome putrefaction. Be fond and proud of dress no more, but 'be ye cloathed with hu|mility; put on righteousness; put ye on the Lord Jesus

Christ, as a robe, and for a diadem of beauty.' But great as is the change, which death makes in the body, it is small and trifling, compared to the alteration it produces in the state of the soul, in the compass of one flying moment; it passes from time to eternity, from ease to unceasing pain, or from pain to eternal bliss; from its existence in a body to a world of separate spirits; and from earth to heaven or hell. What a transition is this! How sudden and unknown, how surprizing and important is the change! Are we all ready for it? 'Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.' This is the great prepara|tory change for heaven; if we have experienced this, we are prepared for the other, and may, in our dying moments, leave this body, and 'launch into the great deep' of eternity, with as much safety as Peter left the ship in a storm, and 'ventured to walk upon the sea to go to Jesus,' not doubting but the same helping hand which 'caught him will be stretched out to save us also from sinking' into the lake which burns below, and receive us into his everlasting kingdom.

3. From this one instance only of a late repentance, let no one presume to defer his own to some future day, and yet dream of success. To the glory of divine grace it must be acknowledged, that a true repentance is never too late; but equally to the glory of divine justice, it must also be owned, that a late repentance is seldom true: True indeed it was in this thief, ac|cording to the common interpretation; but to risk the immortal happiness of a soul, in pawn of its being the only true one, is jeopardy and folly that want a name! After all that has been said in its support, there are yet good reasons to believe, as some expositors do, that this convert had been acquainted with Christ and the nature of his kingdom while in prison, and that he actually was converted some time before he was executed; this they urge ought to be admitted as a fact, rather than an instantaneous conversion. But to wave all contro|versy, I will at present grant what never can be fully

proved, viz. That all the divine virtues which could be crouded into so narrow a space were, by a sudden and astonishing growth, produced in him, while he was upon the cross, and that he did in reality obtain mercy with his dying gasp. What then? Is this a pattern for us? A pattern it may be, but it is without a promise, and is rather a proof of what Christ can do, than of what he will do in common cases. The case of this thief, it is certain, was peculiar and extraordinary: He never had, upon the present supposition, one call to re|pentance, nor one offer of mercy from Christ before in all his life; whereas, under the gospel, dying sinners have been long and often called, and as long despised the means and overtures of grace: 'Because I have called (says God) and ye refused, therefore I will laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh.' Besides it was now an extraordinary time; Christ was on the cross, just coming to the throne, on the point of being crowned, and installed in his kingdom; his dying, royal groans, penetrated the regions of the dead, and produced universal darkness and convulsions through the heavens and earth; all nature was in mourning, and echoed groan for groan responsive to her dying God. At such a time, and under such cir|cumstances, this thief on the cross became a convert of the grace of Christ. But for any of us, at this day, to indulge in wickedness, in expectation of a similar event, would, in the true estimate of things, be ac|counted presumption, and hazard infinitely greater than that of a malefactor, who should voluntarily commit felony, in expectation of a pardon from his sovereign, merely because on the joyful day of his coronation he had once pardoned a criminal; or, if in the neglect of the ordinary means of grace, and 'the still small voice' of reason and conscience, any should depend upon an earthquake, or the darkness of a preternatural eclipse of the sun, to convert him, because a certain thief, al|most 1800 years ago, was perhaps, first awakened in such a miraculous way. The folly of such conduct is

too rank and barefaced to need a serious reprobation! Add to this, that a deep and thorough repentance is a gracious habit, which, like all others, usually requires time, and a train of gradual operations, both within and from without, to fix it deep and durable in the soul. Those hasty resolutions, transient pangs of sor|row, and intermitting fits of joy, so often mistaken for 'pure religion,' are frequently no more than certain mechanical operations upon the body, arising from ex|ternal impressions, or from the latent seeds of some melancholy distemper, which, like the seeds in the parable, 'soon sprung up, and soon withered away, because they had no root or deepness of earth.' Sudden growths and changes in religion, like those in vegetable nature, are seldom solid and durable; and if one ex|perienced in them should appear at first very happy and joyful, as 'Jonah was exceeding glad of his gourd;' yet it is a thing 'for which he hath not laboured, neither made it grow,' he may suspect a devouring 'worm is at the root,' if it ever had any, and as it came up in the night, it will perish in a night, i. e. it may soon be gone; while the empty pretender, who has mistook a religious mood for a religious temper, will be left in the very 'gall of bitterness' and censure, under the do|minion of lusts, far more criminal than that 'peevish temper,' which the prophet discovered at the loss of his pleasant shade. Changes like these, however, are not more suspicious than it is impious to put off the great work of religion to the last moments of life. To waste and wanton away upon your lusts, and the service of this world, the flower and vigor of life, and then offer the wretched relicks of it to the great author and pre|server of life, is a most daring affront. Ungrateful man! foolish and unwise, do you thus requite the Lord? Is this all the return you make him for all his kindness to you? Is this thy kindness to thy friend? Is he so cheap, low, and worthless in your esteem? O! with what angry just resentment might he not say to you, as once he did to the ungrateful Jews, who bar|gained

away their Lord for thirty pieces of silver, 'a goodly price that I was prized at of them.' A goodly price indeed, to offer the sick, the blind and lame, for a Saviour in a desperate case. Offer it now to thy Governor; will he be pleased with such a sacrifice? No more will thy God, the Governor of the world, be pleased with the dregs of diseased or decripid age, pressed out by the weight of conscious guilt, and the torturing fire of a stinging conscience. Fair promises we know are often made in pain and distress, and as often almost are they recanted in ease and prosperity; yea, so commonly have the vows and resolutions of a sick bed died in embrio, where the patient has lived, that if the experience of ages had the weight of a grain, it would be granted upon every hand, that next to leaping headlong into hell without any repentance, is the folly of defering it to age, sickness, or a dying day. But if folly of such colour and magnitude should ever once be found, let not the guilty wretch utterly despond; for in the history of four thousand years, let him know, that there is one instance left on the sacred page, that none might despair, and only one, that none might de|lay. Every delinquent therefore, whose bosom tells him, even when dying. 'thou art the man,' let him, I say, look up to the cross, think of a dying penitent there, and look away all despair; he may cherish to the last a kind of 'forlorn hope;' for 'the Ethiopian can change his skin, and the leopard his spots: a man can be born when he is old, and the sinner an hundred years old may not be accursed;' because 'with God all things are possible.'—Seize the present moment then, and give thy heart to God.

4. The absolute necessity of repentance unto life appears from this subject with the most convincing evidence—This made that vast difference between the two thieves on the cross; the paradise of God was opened to one, but for ever shut against the other; not indeed as a thief merely, but as an impenitent one: And this, O! this will be to all others the turning point for eternity. Let every one therefore, now look

at his own heart, and with the eyes of an honest critic, ask himself this one plain question, am I real penitent, or not? Is my repentance a part of holiness; a part of that holiness without which no man shall see the Lord? and with which every man's 'sins shall be blotted out, and times of refreshment come from the presence of the Lord.' Is it a clear case, that 'fruits meet for repentance,' are the genuine produce of our hearts and lives every day. Push home this enquiry, and act agreeably.—But it is time to speak plainly, and in particular to this poor prisoner, who must very soon appear before the judgment seat of Christ; and may every heart be touched with tender concern for him.

UNHAPPY young man, how disappointed in your expectations, how wretched and forlorn is your con|dition! 'Have pity, have pity upon you, O my God, and look down from thy sanctuary to hear the groaning of the prisoner.' Time! your appointed time on earth is come, and die you must, in all the bloom and vigor of youth, with breasts full of milk and your bones moistened with marrow. This day, which to you is the last of days, will form the important crisis that must determine your happiness or misery for ever. To day you must appear before▪ the judgment seat of Christ; on the brink of the grave, on the verge of vast eternity you no•• stand; and after a few flying minutes more, you will know beyond a doubt, that there is a God, a heaven and an hell. Behold the numerous guard * 1.2 about you, the executioners of justice await your doom, the instruments and appendages of death are in sight, a coffin and a grave for you are open, a prisoner in chains, and you cannot escape; this, ah all this, have you merited at the hands of your injured country, by

the laws of which your mortal life is forfeited, and now demanded as the sacrifice; condemned also you are by the law of God, which extends to the thoughts and in|tents of the heart. The wages of sin is death; 'the soul that sinneth, it shall die, and cursed is every one who continueth not in all things written in the book of the law to do them; this is the law, with its tremendous sanctions and curses; and these all await you, as a trans|gressor of it—offending in one point, you are guilty of all, and all heaven and earth will sooner pass away than one jot or tittle of it fail. The tenor of this law there|fore, none can alter, the tone of vengeance you cannot soften, a God all mercy, and too indulgent to punish the wicked, can never be found; 'whose heart can en|dure, or whose hands be strong,' when the sentence of this righteous law shall be executed—was the sentence of an earthly judge lately pronounced, with the meltings of compassion, and the flowing of tears, ordering you to be hanged by the neck till you are dead;—was this terrible to you, how much more so must it be to hear your almighty Judge in righteous anger pronounce that unalterable sentence, 'depart ye cursed into ever|lasting fire.' Is this then your doom and just desert? Is your day and means of grace just expiring? Have you but a few minutes more to make your peace with an injured neglected God, and to be made 'worthy to escape all these things, and to stand before the Son of Man?' Is this your case? In the name of God! what can be done? What shall I do to be saved? Is this your heart? Are you in earnest? In earnest then, and in the language of inspiration, I most gladly say, 'believe on the Lord Jesus Christ; if thou believest with all thine heart thou shalt be saved,' though in point of justice you deserve 'to be punished with everlasting destruction;' Jesus is the end of the law for righteous|ness; he died to redeem us from the curse of the law; 'he was numbered with the transgressors,' with thieves in his death, that penitent thieves and transgressors might be pardoned; he died for the ungodly, says an inspired apostle; he died for the unjust, says another▪

he came to seek and save that which was lost, says our Lord; and it is a faithful saying, and worthy of all ac|ceptation, that Christ came into the world to save sin|ners, even the chief of them, says the apostle. Now are you ungodly, are you unjust, are you a lost sinner, or even the chief of sinners; then for you he died, such as these he will save, save even to the uttermost, if they will come unto God by him; his blood cleanseth from all sin; even though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool, saith the Lord. Here is the door of hope, this is the door of mercy, and this the fountain to which the soft voice of invitation calls you, saying, come wash and be clean, turn and live, repent and be happy; whoever will, let him come, and him that cometh I will in no wise cast out, I beseech you therefore, O Dixson, by all that your soul is worth through eternity, and by 'the price of blood, the blood of God,' shed for its redemption, that you immediately hear the joyful sound, and instantly give your whole heart's consent to the blessed covenant of gospel grace. Now compose your mind, and make a pause, one solemn, contem|plative pause, and look back, once more upon your wretched life (before it transpires) and think, with bit|ter sorrow, and remorse of heart, O think how you have lived, what you have done, how you have treated the great God, his holy Spirit and blessed Son; think how you have injured your fellow-men, sinned against the light of reason, of revelation, and conscience, and thus wronged your own soul. Then look within, and you will find, you will feel, if not past feeling, a most vile heart, 'out of which have proceeded evil thoughts, blasphemies, thefts, &c.' Take one more survey of this heart, and then 'repent and pray to God, if perhaps the thoughts of thy heart, and the sins of thy whole life may be both forgiven thee.' I say unto you, 'what thou doest, do quickly;' your feet stand on slippery places, now is your time, now or never, 'now is the accepted time, now is the day, and to you the last, the only day of salvation; to day therefore, while it is called to day,

harden not your heart. Dixson, you still breathe, your heart and your pulse yet beat, and the vital current moves, and blessed be God the curse delays, the warn|ing voice is heard, 'you are a prisoner of hope;' turn, turn to the strong holds, for why will you die, O young man. In fine, justify God, condemn yourself, prostrate your guilty soul at the foot of the cross; look up there, and plead the merit and the application of that all-virtuous blood which once pardoned a penitent thief, who died upon it, and is infinitely sufficient to pardon and save even you; and having ascended the place of your execution, then rouse, collect and fix all your thoughts, and breathe out all your soul, in faith, repentance and prayer, 'saying, 'Lord Jesus, re|member me in thy kingdom,' God be merciful to me a dying sinner. Farewell, poor John Dixson, and the Lord have mercy on you; to day may you be with Christ in paradise; amen, and 'let all the people say amen.'

To this very numerous assembly I will now turn the address, and close my subject. Who can look around upon the numbers of all ranks, ages, sexes and com|plexions here present, and think of the transactions of this day, and not be reminded of that infinitely more solemn 'day in which God will judge the world in righteousness, by Jesus Christ.' Then, my friends, and perhaps never before, shall we meet again, not merely as spectators, but as personally and deeply interested in all the momentous scenes and decisions that will then take place. The apostle's wish for his friend, is mine for you and myself; 'the Lord grant we may all find mercy of him in that day.' To this desirable end, may the public instructions and warnings of this day be im|proved, in particular that exemplary instance of justice upon the prisoner before us, which is this day under providence set up at the head of this county as a warning piece, let off (as I may say) from a cannon of our own making, a salutary law of this Commonwealth, and which speaks aloud in the ears as well as to the eyes of all that can see or hear, crying from the earth, like the

blood of murdered Abel, for the life of this and for other malefactors. Let all take warning, and while they see and hear, may they fear and do no more so wickedly; 'let him that stole, steal no more, but rather let him labour with his hands the thing which is good.' Then may this stand alone, and for the last, as it is at present the second instance of a capital execution, and the first for burglary, since this was a shire town—youth, as well as parents, are particularly concerned in the admonitions of this day.

1. HERE is a most affecting instance, my young friends, before your eyes of a vicious youth, under the age of twenty-four years, brought to a disgraceful, un|timely death, by the vindictive hand of public justice; and it is at once a warning to you, and a proof that God's own words are words of truth. Look on this criminal, and believe that 'he who pursueth evil, pur|sueth it to his own death,' and that wicked men shall not live out half their days; believe also that he who being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall himself suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy; hearken then to the voice of a reproof from your parents and friends, from the word and providence of God; take heed to your ways, shun the vices and paths of the destroyer; 'flee youthful lusts which war against the soul,' and wound to death your own reputation and the bleeding hearts of your tender parents; beware, espe|cially beware of gaming, and that intemperate use of spirituous liquors to which this ill-fated youth was so in|famously addicted, and which, by the confession of his own mouth, had the principal hand in bringing him to this miserable end. This is indeed a sore evil under the sun, and it is now common among men; like a pestilence, 'it walketh in darkness and wasteth at noon day!' A most pernicious evil, full of deadly poison to the manners and morals of youth; a detestable Pan|dora's box, whence issue whole swarms of plagues, more numerous and fatal than those of Egypt, to sting and disturb mankind in all their peace of society, both in towns and families; yea, it now threatens with one mingled mass of ruin, the health and happiness, the

lives, fortunes and souls of the most promising part of God's creation: 'Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who hath contentions? Who hath babling? Who hath wounds, with and without a cause? Who hath redness of eyes?' Who are poor, and steal, and take the name of the Lord in vain? Who break up houses, com|mit murder, are confined to prisons, loaded with irons, and die upon the gallows? 'They that tarry long at the wine, they that go to seek mixt wine, and are mighty to drink strong drink.' This execution alas! will make the third in this county, occasioned by spi|ritous liquors; two men in a fit of intoxication com|mitted murder, and suffered the pains of death, at Bristol, upwards of 75 years ago; these were Indians, and would to God that human nature might never again be so brutalized and rankly disgraced by any but Indians alone. Could I speak in thunder, and my voice be heard from pole to pole, it should be the friendly voice of warning to young men, entreating them, by every thing that is dear and valuable, to shun the company and the haunts of tipplers and gamblers; 'come not nigh the door of the house, avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it and pass away.'

2. THIS example of condign punishment speaks aloud and home to parents and all who are entrusted with the care and education of children. Next to in|temperance, as a cause, this malefactor ascribes his li|centious life and ignominious death to the want of pro|per restraint in youth; left to the care of a mother when young, he had, like too many others, his own way and will without controul. His parent we are told is yet alive, if a parent can live who has 'travailed in birth and drawn out the breasts' to such a son! Can words express the feelings of a parent's heart on such an oc|casion; put your soul in her soul's stead this day, and imagine for once, you who are parents, if the thought is not insupportable, that this was your own son! a son who had 'made himself vile, and you restrained him not,' a son, whose education, whose morals and immortal soul you had neglected, and now is trembling

in chains, with the strangling noose about his neck, and 'made a gazing stock' to thousands around him—at length you follow him to the place of execution; there stand the father who begat him, and the mother who bore him, beholding their son writhing in the agonies of death, and they for him, in agonies as great of living distress; O how they wring their hands, and almost gnaw their tongues, while they cry, 'my son, my son, would to God I might die for thee, O my son, my son,' I am the criminal, and I the guilty thief; 'his blood be upon us, and not upon our child;' we are the faulty cause; our cruel neglect of timely instructions, a good example, and the rod of correction, have mur|dered our son! The Bible and experience both told us to train him up in the way he should go, and that when he was old he would not depart; we were commanded to beat him with a rod, and not spare for his crying, with a promise that he should not die an untimely death, and that we should deliver his soul from hell; but Oh! 'we are guilty, verily guilty, concerning our son, and therefore is this distress come upon us,' as a just punish|ment of our folly as well as his own; go now and write him a monster! pronounce that heart 'an heart of stone, which is not melted and moved out of its place;' even in sympathy with such pungent parental distress; and may both the sleeping and waking hours of that parent, be perpetually haunted with all the tra|gical operations of this day, who can after all go home, and neglect the education of his own children; yea, let him take his rank in future with 'the cruel ostrich in the wilderness,' because he is hardened against his young, as though they were not his own.

3. THIS public example of justice adds to the proof, already large, of the existence and wisdom of a special providence: 'Verily there is a God that judgeth in the heavens and in the earth.' To deter men from vice, the Deity has mercifully mingled pain and punishment with the very nature and perpetration of it; if we look within we shall find, we shall feel a demonstration of this. Envy and malice, rancor and revenge, &c. are 'a ge|neration

of vipers' in the soul, perpetually stinging and gnawing upon it; yea, they create in that bosom, which is their nest, a little domestic hell, 'where the worm' of envy 'dieth not, and the fire' of malice 'is not quenched.' Vices torment the soul, however, not mere|ly from their nature, and when separately indulged, but from their number and combination. So numerous, and so contrary, in their desires and separate interests, that they raise a kind of civil war within; for while one lust is gratified, another is displeased; while the man humours and feeds his covetousness, he is obliged to starve luxury and affront his pride; and even should 'Belzebub cast out devils,' or one predominant master lust conquer a number of its inferiors, there would be even in this infernal conquest an opposition, which must create pain and vexation. But if to the misery which is entailed on vice, in its nature and in their jaring num|bers, we add that which both attends and follows vi|cious actions, we shall still have a greater proof of the wisdom and goodness of divine providence, by which it is evidently decreed, that bold transgressors shall not only be punished in this world, but in numberless in|stances shall in fact be punished according to the laws of a strict retaliation. I have seen (says Eliphaz) that they who plow iniquity and sow wickedness reap the same; his mischief (says the Psalmist) shall return up|on his own head, and his violent dealings shall come down upon his own pate; and even after conscience hath long slept, and no human justice could pursue the criminal, his own iniquity has at last found him out, and by some remarkable incident in providence brought him to deserved punishment. In this view it is worthy of observation, that soon after the commit|ment of this prisoner to the goal in this town, he was providentially discovered late in the night upon the point of an escape from this, as he had before done from every other prison he had been confined to; this alarmed the sheriff, who knowing and lamenting the enfeebled state of the gaol, thought it unsafe to risque a

second attempt, and therefore appointed him a guard; and to this single circumstance, however trifling or ac|cidental it may appear, must be ascribed, under pro|vidence, the memorable event of this day. Rather than wicked men should go unpunished, by any neglect of government, all wise providence will take occasion from that neglect, and make a superanuated gaol the very means of their execution. 'The weakness of God is stronger than men,' and ever will be too strong for the guilty to escape. Let us, especially of this county, notice a providence so friendly to government, and re|member that this in full cannot by done until the new proposed gaol shall be compleated, with every needful precaution of strength and security. Finally,

WHEN we look at this unhappy criminal, and think what would the poor wretch give that he were in our condition: Let none of us indulge, or nourish in our hearts the pride of the Pharisee, or even so much as think, in a way of boasting, what he spoke with his mouth, 'God I thank thee, that I am not as other men, or even as this malefactor;' when perhaps the principal distinction between him and numbers here present may be nothing more than the gilding of a coffin or the paint of a sepulchre; and even of some others, the difference may consist only in this, that he is de|tected and condemned, but they as yet are concealed from human eye, while in the eye of God omniscient, both they and we and 'all have sinned, and come short of his glory.' Condemned therefore by the same law, guilty before the same God, we are all the prisoners of divine justice, and equally need repentance and par|doning mercy, through the blood of the same atone|ment. 'Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish;' repent therefore, let us all, and 'be converted, that we may have redemption through the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace; and receive in the end the riches of the glory of the inheritance, in his everlasting kingdom.' Amen.

(The End of the SERMON.)

Notes

• * 1.1

  Vide Appendix
• * 1.2

  A guard of 130 men were ordered to attend the execution. This ad|ded to government a dignity, as well as security, which the Sheriff ex|emplified in his own p••••son, with honour and applause, refusing a mer|cenary executioner, offered him for a mere pittance, he claimed the office as a part of his duty, and a proof of his fidelity in it, and with an amia|ble mixture of soft compassion and dignity he executed the criminal with his own hands.