sive to the sentence of the law. Indeed, though the laws of man had failed, I was condemned by the laws of God (Exodus xxi. 12): 'He that smiteth a man, so that he die, shall be surely put to death. 14. But if a man come presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay him with guile, thou shalt take him from mine altar, that he may die.' You see, then, that I am justly deserving of the sentence pronounced upon me by the laws of God and of man, and that I am a great sinner, as indeed you all are; but God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have everlasting life. (John iii. 16.) And, 'I account it a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.'-See Isaiah liii. 5. Again, John xix. 30: When Jesus had received the vinegar, he said, 'It is finished.' Now, it was from this very word I took all my joy. I am assured he hath completed all salvation for the guilty, and God hath confirmed this by raising him from the dead, and committing unto him all judgment. This, and this alone, gives strength and consolation to my soul. I go to Christ, my Lord and Saviour; to his judgment-seat, who died upon the cross for

sinners, to him I commit my departing soul. Amen, and Amen.

"Dear father and mother, you got me from the Lord, and to him I would have you to deliver me again, by prayer, on Wednesday, about three o'clock. I could wish you not to make any unbecoming work* on that day, because it is sinful in the sight of God. Dear parents, after my death, let the thought of it pass as easily as you possibly can, for it will hurt yourselves, and all of you. Think that I will be more happy with the Lord, than in this sinful world, and that in a short time you must follow. If you have made up your peace with God, death will be no terror to you; and if not, your state must be deplorable. I pray you all to make the Bible your bosom companion, where the truth is asserted from God's own mouth, and he cannot lie.

"Dear friends all! you know my time is short in this world, and to my sore grief, I leave behind me, to lament my death, a poor widow and four helpless children: but the Lord is a rich provider to those who put their trust in him. I beg, as a particular favour, that there may be not one of you but will countenance my dear wife and children, as they are innocent, which I will * Lamentation.

show to the world if they will believe; and I hope they will believe the words of a dying

man.

"Dear sister Jean, I have learnt by my brother, that you are coming down to see me.

You are

very welcome to come, but I am afraid you will be the worse for it. My dear sister Margaret, I understand, is poorly in health. You may consider with yourselves, that it hurts me very much to part with you, when such a trial is before me; but I will by no means stop any of you, as it is the last sight in this world. I am quite calm, and order everything about my funeral with the greatest composure; and what a great blessing it is to you all to hear of the state of my mind.

"I conclude in my last words. O think what sin is, and 'flee from the wrath to come; but, 'grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to whom be glory, both now and for ever. Amen, and Amen.'

"Dear father and mother, farewell! farewell, in hopes of meeting in a short time never to part. Farewell! farewell! Amen, and Amen! "MAITLAND SMITH."

6

On the evening of the 20th October, the day before he suffered, his wife, two of his brothers, and a sister, went to take a last farewell. For some days he had looked forward to this awful scene with much uneasiness; and indeed it appeared to be the only event connected with this world, that, towards the last, made any strong impression on his mind. By long confinement, his bodily strength was much reduced, and this circumstance could not fail to produce a considerable effect on the state of his nerves; but, independent of every other consideration, it was not possible that, with strong feelings like his, the ties of early affection could be rent asunder without a violent effort. At first, therefore, the shock was such as might have been expected. When he saw so many dear friends standing round him for the last time, his fortitude forsook him, and he was for some minutes most deeply and violently affected. But the fervour of religion soon rose on his soul, and he resumed his usual serenity and composure. He then spoke to his weeping friends, in a firm and animated tone of voice, for upwards of an hour, earnestly exhorting them to put their frust in Jesus, as the Saviour of sinners; and reading to them, from time to time, appropriate passages of Scripture. His mind was now warmed with

the glow of devotion. And his last words to them were in the language of the apostle Paul (2 Cor. xiii. 11): "Finally, brethren, farewell. Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you."

The bitterness of death was now past, and he spent the remainder of the night in solemn and uninterrupted preparation for the awful event. He had finished his connection with the world and its cares; he had broken the bond that attached him to the things of time, and the employments and delights of eternity seemed to his ardent imagination already begun.

In this state of pious enthusiasm he remained till about two o'clock next day, when, after prayer by Dr. Duncan, he was conducted to the scaffold. Here he was attended by the magistrates, several clergymen, and some private gentlemen. His limbs, by long disuse, tottered under the weight of his body, but his soul was firm. In the posture of devotion, and with an air of deep and solemn earnestness, he performed the usual offices of religion, and afterwards read, with a distinct and manly voice, a printed speech, which he had prepared for the occasion. He then addressed himself, in a very animated and affecting manner, to the numerous specta