ever-memorable revival began in November, 1787. The word was then attended with such power, that it was not possible for the most hard hearted to hear it without some concern about their salvation; and about ninety/persous were added to the church in the space of one year. It might have been observed, in a preceding part of this Memoir, that the last time he administered the Lord's supper at Llanbrynmair, his strength being almost exhausted by speaking, he sat down in the chair, and having rested a few minutes, he said in a seeming transport of joy, "I expect, my friends, that some of us shall go to Heaven ere long. We shall there have the golden harp, and sing, and sing, and sing to our dear Friend, who died for us to purchase our life, for ever and ever." Some of Mr. Tibbott's favourite, weighty, or peculiar expressions may not improperly be subjoined. He would often say, "The salvation of men is entirely of God; and their misery entirely of themselves. The saved will ever ascribe the whole praise to God; and the damned the whole blame to themselves." After shewing that moral inability is the enmity of the heart to God and goodness, he would say, "It is so far from exculpating the sinner, that it is rather the most damnable sin. After describing the privileges of those who were united to Christ, he would say with the greatest animation, Codwch eich pennau, boneddigion y nefoedd; plant y cyfammod, byddwch byw ar eich etifeddiaeth! that is, "Lift up your heads, ye honourable ones of Heaven; ye children of the covenant, live upon your inheritance" But no translation can convey the true spirit and force of the original. A little before his death one of his friends asked him, whether there were any signs of success at a certain place where he often preached? He answered, "There are two or three who seem to be savingly wrought upon." When his friend observed he laboured much for the sake of so few, he replied, "That to be instrumental in winning one soul, would abundantly recompence him for twenty years of labour." He would often say, "That we could as soon behold the sun by the light of a candle, as we can see the glory of spiritual things by our own natural light, without the influence and illumination of the Holy Spirit;" and when in some of his more facetious moments, he would say, "Men in their natural state know no more of God than a mole of the sun, or an owl of a lecture on optics." Such expressions from him, though calculated to excite a sinile, were were not the language of levity, but the result of con viction, and uttered with a view to stamp on the memory, in a manner not easily forgotten, what would bear the test of sacred scripture and rectified reason. He would observe, "There is a high-way and a foot-path to hell; the openly profane travel the high-way, and the mere moralists the foot-path; but the latter would as surely be there as the former." Such comparisons, in connection with and founded on scripture-arguments, have often the happiest effect in illustrating what is proved; and, in the skilful management of Mr. Tibbott, were remarkably impressive. As a Christian, he was eminent for maintaining constant communion with God. He certainly walked with him, and seemed to possess such heavenly screnity and sweet peace of mind in all places, and at all times, that his state was truly enviable. He had always with him the sweet savour of Christ. In company he was rather reserved, until soine subject of importance engaged the conversation. Indeed, such was his heavenly-mindedness, that he could relish no society or discourse, except somewhat was, at least occasionally, said on spiritual and heavenly things. When the conversation turned on worldly things, to the utter exclusion of religion, he would soon discover some uneasiness, and sometimes rise and walk away. But no one enjoyed spiritual conversation more than he. His judgment on points of difficulty, relative to doctrine, experience, or conduct, was much respected; and in giving his opinion, he traced the subject to first principles; and in matters of difference among real Christians, he urged the infinite importance of those things wherein they agreed, and aimed in all to promote and strengthen love and unity. Perhaps, there never was a man inore fond of peace than he: he would sacrifice any thing, consistent with the peace of his own mind, for peace among his brethren. Mr. Tibbott was married three times. Neither of his wives was possessed of much worldly riches; but they all possessed what is infinitely more valuable, genuine piety and godliness; and, on his part, there could not be a more kind and indulgent husband. He had fifteen children, fen of whom survive him. The seven eldest are churchmembers; the two next, though young, seem to be under serious impressions about eternal things; the youngest, at the time of his decease, was only twelve years of age. May. May they all appear with their parents, at last, at the right hand of the Divine Judge! Mr. John Roberts, having been associated with him for some time in the ministerial work, succeeds him in the pastoral office with acceptance and affection from the people, and with hopeful success. Mr. R. Tibbott had a brother also in the ministry; and as there is no printed memoir of him, it may well comport with the design of this article, to take some notice of him here. Mr. John Tibbott was many years an useful preacher at Llanbrynmair, before his brother Richard, as an assistant to the Rev. Lewis Rees. About the year 1763, he accepted an invitation to undertake the pastoral care of a dissenting church at Escardawe, Carmarthenshire. He continued to discharge the various duties of his station with faithfulness and ability, till the Lord's Day, February the 6th, 1785. The morning he died, he seemed to be in good health and spirits. He went to the meeting-house," and preached with uncommon sweetness, from Matt. vi. 20. "But lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven," &c.— After preaching, he stopped a short time at the place of worship, conversing with some of his friends. He then went towards home with his son-in-law. When they had come to the house, his young companion, who walked just before him, heard him say, Pa fath iw hyn? "How is this?" His friend turned round, saw him just falling, caught him in his arms before he reached the ground; when he expired in an instant. He was a very consistent cha-. racter. He would often say, that true religion must be doctrinal, experimental, and practical. He has a son in the ministry, who is now settled at Cymmor Glyn-Orrwg, in Glamorganshire, where there is a new interest. Rotherham. My dear LETTER TO A YOUNG LADY. You will receive this as a mark of γου E. W.. my affectionate re gard for your everlasting welfare; and it is dictated by the concern which what you dropt in our conversation last evening has excited in my mind. You said, "you often thought that you should be given up by God."Alarming, tremendous thought, indeed! Given up of God! My dear young friend certainly could not realize what she said, or she must have shrunk, VOL. X. with with horror from the idea. Could you bear the thought of being left without your mother, your sisters, or without a friend in the world? without health, without food, without the means of procuring any? without the light of day, without liberty, without every thing that can make existence valuable and yet, to be thus deserted, and to be able to say, "The Lord is my Shepherd, my Friend, my Portion," would be comparative blessedness!-but to think of being given up of God!of being left to insensibility of heart!destitute of pardon and all the blessings of sal vation without hope!-without the saving experimental knowledge of real religion, and to be given up to such a state for ever!' oh, who does not tremble at the thought! But, -- May attempt to trace the origin of this hopeless dreadful thought? You have been religiously educated; you' have religious knowledge; and I doubt not but you have at times had some strong impressions of religious subjects: but shall I be uncandid, in fearing that you have not seriously and cordially welcomed these thoughts, or yielded to these convictions? Perhaps, in some hours of retirement, or when attending the preaching of the word, you have not been able to resist impressions of this kind; but you have said to them, as Felix to Paul, "Go your way at this time."-Your judgment and conscience are, on the side of religion; you know it is important;-you think they are happy who possess it; but you feel that to possess it, requires sacrifices which you are unwilling to make. When you are in gay and lively company, and with those who are influenced only by the spirit of the world, you dare not acknowledge your reverence for it; you feel too, that" the right hand must be cut off," and your carnal affec tions parted with; and, in a word, that, in order to enjoy religion, the Saviour must be enthroned, the heart surrendered to him, and his laws rule your whole conduct; and here you revolt. Your reflections, however, return: such a state of mind cannot obtain your own approbation, and yet you are unwilling" to follow the Lord fully;" and hence urises the dreadful foreboding, "that you shall be given up. of God." Your case, my dear young friend, is, I fear, that of thousands of young people like you, religiously educated, and who sit under the ministry of the Gospel. But, tho' the manner in which you uttered this fear did not express the alarm or anxiety which I should have expected, - : you ta expected, let me hope that the thought, when it returns in your serious and retired hours, thrills horror through your mind, and awakens an anxiety which vents itself in strong cries and tears to him who sees in secret, and leads deprecate the evil you mention as, of all others, most full of anguish and is this the case? Oh cherish, cherish this anxiety; but, at the same tine, rest not in it.-The.very thought itself dishonours God, and tends to harden the heart-you cannot entertain this thought of him and love him you cannot, while it prevails, approach him with pleasure. No, my dear young friend, the Saviour will cast out none that come unto him by faith; he is able, he is willing and, are there not blessings to be enjoyed in his service, that can infinitely more than compensate for all you may lose for his sake? Is not his yoke easy, and his burden light? will not pardon through his blood, peace flowing from the application of it to the conscience, a consciousness of dependence upon him, and unreserved des votedness to him, and the sweet promises of his présence, guidance, and support in life and death, far more than outweigh all the charins of the world and sin? O, take heed of halting between two opinions. Pray, pray earnestly that the Lord would "create within you a new heart," and give you such views of the Saviour, as may enable you to say, "I count all things but loss for his sake." Cast your admiring eyes to yonder Calvary! Consider if he who loves, and bleeds, and dies, be not worthy of your affections! Look. to him and be saved, his blood has everlasting virtue, his love has an indisputable claim to yours, and assures you, that those who come to him, he will in nowise cast out. But trifle not, nor any longer hesitate; dismiss those secret desponding thoughts that keep you from him, and pray for his holy promised spirit, to lead you into all truth. But I wish to be faithful to you; remember, therefore, that religion is heart-work, and though the Redeemer's "yoke is easy," yet it is a "yoke." O take it upon you, and you shall find rest to your soul. Your fears of being forsaken of God shall then vanish; and you shall find "that peace, which passeth all understanding. Your sincere friend, W. G.. MEDITATION ON DEATH. Ο My soul, call home thy wandering thoughts and cares about this transitory world, and bestow a few moments of thy inestimable time, in serious meditation, about thy Z 2 future |