the success of my voyage, and readily believe that I shall be eager to return, to bear a part in the work of Christian reformation." In a subsequent letter he writes, "Whatever be the result of my sickness, I trust you will be content. I am not indifferent to this result, and cannot but hope it will be life. Life, though accompanied with many troubles, is still an invaluable gift, and I prize it,—many things I wish to learn, many things to do; but if it be appointed otherwise, I have hope towards God,' that not even death will be able to separate ine for ever from his favour." Notwithstanding the flattering changes so common in Mr. Goodier's disorder, none of its symptoms were overcome; and all the time he was in France he suffered dreadfully from large boils, that broke out on his limbs and body; yet, through all he endured, he preserved that charm of manners and sweetness of temper which, even in a land of strangers, endeared him to all around, and procured those soothing attentions which "fully prove," as he said, in making grateful mention of an old French servant at Bordeaux, "that sympathy is not confined to one language or one nation." The letters dictated by this invaluable young man on his death-bed, give ample testimony to his acquiescence in the will of heaven. The following is addressed to the whole of his beloved family, and is dated July 12, 1818: "I find myself at length forced to the performance of a painful duty, which by deferring I had hoped to escape, viz. that of making you fully acquainted with my present painful and feeble situation. I wish you to be prepared for all events; and when I tell you that I write this letter from a sick chamber, to which I have been confined for almost a week, chiefly in bed, in a state of such helplessness, as to be absolutely dependent on the kind offices of the family with whom lodge, who have been forced for several nights past to watch with me; that for a month past I have been forced to employ the skill of an eminent physician of the town, who visits me twice a day-you will agree with me, that it is very possible you have seen me for the last time on this side the tomb. I wrote to you, by a friend, last week, a general account of the reverses which have led to this state. I wish not to expatiate; my sufferings have been, and continue to be, very great, and it is quite sufficient that I have to bear them myself without making you suffer, &c. "Under these painful circumstances, the mercy of God has provided me every possible consolation, and in general my mind is tranquil and happy; oftener indeed disturbed on your account than on my own: and I earnestly pray, and confidently hope, that these consolations will soften your portion of this mysterious dispensation, as they do mine. The grand truths of the gospel, especially that of the universal love and fatherly character of Him in whose hands our breath is, confirmed as this doctrine is by reason and by past experience, fill me with humble confidence; and though dealt is awful, it has ceased to be terrible. When I look back on the merciful dealings of his providence during my long sickness, and reflect on the numerous and unexpected softenings I have constantly received from his paternal goodness, how can I doubt that all is working together for my good; that in the hands of a Father I shall always be safe; and that if his wisdom sees good to remove me from this earthly scene, it is only to remove me to another, where my enjoyments will be increased, and where my perceptions of his everlasting mercy will be more lively, my views of his glorious designs for the children of men more extensive and enchanting? "If I had had a doubt on this subject, the wonderful interposition of his providence in leading me, almost in spite of myself, to this house, would have removed it. There is not a single person in the family who does not strive to aid me, and the mistress is beyond all praise. All the day long she is in my chamber, with the exception of a few moments devoted to family affairs. She exhibits all the tenderness of a mother, performs the most menial offices with pleasure, and after all, she assures me that the pleasure of my acquaintance and friendship is an ample reward. I trust, however, my friends will enable me "Montauban, July 15, 1818. "DEAR MR. and MRS. "Contrary to my usual custom, I. address you both, because I wish to include both in a mark of my remembrance and an expression of my gratitude, which my present circumstances lead me to believe will probably be the last. After the encouraging letter of the first of June, I did not expect so soon be under the necessity of wounding your feelings by so painful a recital as the present; but to prevent a still more painful shock, I feel it my duty to give you a faithful account of the actual state of my health, in order to prepare you for an event which, though not absolutely certain, I cannot but shortly expect. I dictate this letter from a bed which has been my refuge for upwards of a week, and in which I am in such a state of weakness as to be unable almost to move myself without the assistance of those around me. During this week, my pain has been so great as almost to deprive me of sleep, the last six nights having not slept as many hours. kindness, and wishes me to assure all event of my death in a strange land, the interest which he and his friends take in my situation, will lead them to discharge every Christian and friendly duty; so that on this head you may be perfectly tranquil. In addition to this, the consolations of religion have increased with the increase of my trials, enabling me to preserve an almost uniform serenity of spirit: and I am confident that they will never forsake me. The short letter which follows is peculiarly interesting, as being, in all probability the last Mr. Goodier ever dictated; for it was written on the 22d of July, the day before he expired. It is addressed to a friend in Shropshire, to whose family he had long been indebted for proofs of the warmest attachment. "Montauban, July 22, 1818. "MY DEAR MADAM, "This is a melancholy renewal of our correspondence, if any thing can be melancholy to a Christian like you; but I cannot consider my last duty on earth fulfilled till I have requested you to write to my father; be will need comfort, and I know no one so well calculated as yourself to administer those gospel consolations which have been so long the support of your own life. In a letter to Mrs. FI have given the painful particulars of my illness, so that I need not repeat them here. During the last six nights I have not slept more than six hours; yet my pains are less, and my physician's hopes increase; but I am so weak as not to be able to turn myself in bed. I am tired with dictating, and will only add, that I have here every consolation; my confidence in God increases, and I am enabled to apply those comfortable words, my grace shall be sufficient for thee,' and all things shall work together for good to those who love God.' Remember me to your family, every one of whom I dearly love; and remember, that though in death we part, we shall meet in life, where there will be no parting. "I remain, dear Madam, my friends in England, that in the A communication from Mr. Goodier's kind hostess afforded the gratifying intelligence, that to the last moment of existence the departing saint preserved his faith and patience without wavering. "You desire to be made acquainted," she says, "with the minutest details of the life and death of this excellent young man. I will endeavour to give you all possible satisfaction; but you will suffer me to omit the recital of those agonizing pains which for the last three months I saw him endure. Soon after his ar rival here, his disorder took an alarming appearance; and although he then became convinced that his malady was incurable, that conviction had no power to shake the firmness of his soul; his cheerfulness was unabated, and the benevolent sweetness of his manners continued till he drew his last breath. When on his deathbed, he used to request the students, on their visiting him, to unite with him in the prayers addressed to the Almighty by the minister whose pious offices he had desired, and on these occasions he edified all around him by his patience aud resignation. The sufferings he endured in his throat, the last two days, prevented the usual distinctness of his speech; but all that I could gather from his lips throughout those trying moments, were words of true submission to the decrees of Providence, and of consolation for us; consolation which he entreated us likewise to impart to his father and his other good friends in England. With undiminished fortitude, he expressed his last wishes respecting the rewards to be given in his name to his attendants; then informed us in what way he desired to have his funeral conducted; dictated an inscription for his tomb, aud then expired!" Mr. Goodier's remains were in terred in a decent manner, and all the ministers of the place, and the professors and students of the college, as well as the English who were at Montauban, attended the funeral. 44 How mysterious are the dispensations of Providence!" we exclaim, on hearing of a life of such fair promise thus early terminated. But the gloomy mystery brightens into an evidence of divine wisdom, if we reflect on the happy influence that may be produced on the witnesses of such a holy death. This youthful Christian, brief as his existence had been, had sojourned long enough on earth to shew us how to use the precious gift of life; and it was the will of the Almighty also to make him a bright example at that trying hour when life must be resigned. We learn a heart-improving lesson when we compare the death of the aged saint, calmly and thankfully surrendering his being into the hands of Him who gave it, with that of the ungodly man appalled at the fatal moment, though cloyed even to loathing with the unhallowed pleasures of the world; yet the scene we are now contemplating is abun-. dantly more animating and instructive. The Christian far advanced in years, wearied with the many struggles he has sustained, and aware that the failing of nature's powers is fast depriving him of his wonted enjoy-. ments, is ready to ask of his Creator the repose of the grave; but when he who has just entered his joyful career of usefulness, warm with hopes as yet unchecked by disappointment, relinquishes without a murmur all the years of pleasure that imagination had promised, looking forward to that more joyful period when the oblivion of the tomb shall be exchanged for life and immortality-then, and then only is displayed the full triumph of Christian faith. Let not, therefore, the sorrowing friends of this follower of his blessed Saviour continue to sully his memory with repining tears; but, animated with his spirit, piously exclaim,-" The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord!" A. M. [Mr. Goodier eontributed to this work the Intelligence relating to the establishmeat of Unitarianism at Oldham, Lancashire, VIII. 535 and XI. 121; the Review of Ashworth's Unitarianism at Rochdale, XIII. 270; the Review of Considerations sur la Divinité de Jesus-Christ, XIII. 394; and the Specimens of Curran's Eloquence, XIII. 543. By an accident, the after his decease, and was inserted in the last communication did not appear till same Number that contained his Obituary. He was also the contributor of some excellent papers, signed B. G. in The Christian Reformer. En.] THE CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LOCKE AND LIMBORCH, TRANSLATED, WITH HISTORICAL NOTES. The Correspondence between Locke and with the inhabitants, whose state Limborch, 1685-1704. (Continued from p. 13.) Philip à Limborch to John Locke. SEND you, by this opportunity, some extracts from Paul Servita, which may be inserted in the History of the Inquisition. The Authors I now meet with I read with peculiar reference to the Inquisition, and generally extract whatever occurs which may still further illustrate that subject, and thus serve to complete my History. You may, if you please, add these to what I sent you before. As to what you communicated to me three years since from the travels of Du Mont, the more I consider it, the more I am disposed to add that passage to my History. For though the regulations of the Papal Court forbid the disclosure of secrets revealed in confession, yet in favour of the faith-they do many things which their laws seem to forbid, though, in truth, they sanction only what may more easily seduce and entangle the simple. Therefore, I think that not only the laws of the Inquisition should be considered, but especially the acts of its administration, which are very often directly opposed to its regulations. One thing is worthy of remark. Du Mont says, that the Confessors at Malta are obliged to reveal to the Inquisitors whatever any persons disclose to them in secret confession, if it concern the faith. I have no doubt that these secret confessions are re vealed to the Inquisitors; though I can scarcely believe there is really a law to reveal them. Perhaps there is a verbal order given to the confessors, though no such law exists. Thus a Protestant and a stranger may be led into an error by conversations * Sec XIII. 478, 481. ments are often very uncertain, and even false, as I have frequently discovered in travels, which contained a description of Holland. Whence it is to be considered how such cavils of the priests may be most surely refuted. Yet, however it be, this narration seems to me worthy of a place in my History, if it can be confirmed by any writer whose authority is unsuspected by the priests. If in the any other passages of this sort, pray course of your reading you meet with mention them. I informed you, two or three months since, that a certain excellent person was very desirous of seeing your wished to deal freely and openly with arguments on the Divine Unity. I you, and could not conceal what was given me in commission. I am unwilling to interrupt your more important occupations, or to give you any trouble. I know, however, that business, a sight of your arguments if you can detach your thoughts from will highly gratify that eminent person; for he esteems greatly your judgment and ingenuity. Yet should leisure requisite for the consideration not your avocations allow you the of such a subject, and for writing more at large, or should I be in danger of I beg of you to decline,) I will, if giving you too much trouble, (which you desire it, excuse you to that eminent person as well as I can; but in that case pray dictate to me such an excuse, or rather, if you can, without finding or fearing any inconvenience, pray do this favour to that eminent person, who will thus have a clearer thoughts have been so long occupied. view of a subject on which your Farewell, my worthy friend, Yours, affectionately, * See XIV. 9. No. 38. Philip à Limborch to John Locke. Amsterdam, Kal. April, 1698. MY WORTHY FRIEND, I RECEIVED, in due course, the 21st of March, your very instructive letter of the 21st of February. Of this I informed you in a short note delivered by my son. Mr. Le Clerc and I have read over your letter attentively. We think you have established by unanswerable proofs the Unity of the Divine Essence, so that nothing can be wanting to your argument. But we decline shewing your letter to that eminent person till we know more of your mind. There seems to be something farther required, and this I fear arises from my neglect in not sufficiently discovering to you the train of that eminent person's thoughts. So far as I can judge from his conversation, he readily admits that it is sufficiently evident that the Ruler of this universe is only one; but he desires an argument by which it may be proved that a Being, necessarily existent, can be but one; that argument to be deduced from the necessity of his existence, and to infer it à priori, (as the schools speak,) not à posteriori, or, in other words, to prove from the nature of a necessary existence, that it cannot be common to many. He says that, debating this subject with others, he has sometimes argued thus: What though such a Being exist, besides the one God on whom we depend, that Being will be regardless of us, because we depend not on him, and this may sufficiently incline us to love and worship the one God with all our hearts. But then it may be asked, can there be such a Being necessarily existing, besides the God necessarily existing, on whom we depend? Therefore if you can add any thing that may fully satisfy the curiosity of that eminent person, I shall expect to see it. In the mean time I shall be careful to keep your letter strictly to myself. Farewell, most worthy friend, and if there has been any thing amiss in • This must have been a second letter, and in answer to Limborch's of 11th March, but neither of these letters has been preserved, this business, perhaps through my imprudence, kindly forgive me. Yours, affectionately, P. à LIMBORCH. No. 39. John Locke to Philip à Limborch. (Lettre de M. Locke à M. Limborch.) Oates, April 2, 1698. SIR, THE question which you have proposed to me, is from a person so eminent in genius and capacity, that I am quite embarrassed by the honour which he does me, to defer so much to my judgment on an occasion where he might, with more advantage and security, depend on himself. I know not how you have represented me to him, under the delusive influence of the friendship you bear me; but of one thing I am sure, if I consulted only my own reputation, I should forbear to expose my trivial speculations to a person of so profound a judgment, or venture to treat that article as a question to be argued; most people, probably, considering that it should be received as a maxim. For in their opinion it is better established on the common grounds, than if we attempt to explain it by speculations and reasonings to which every one is not accustomed. But I know that the person to whom I attribute that question has a mind of another description. His candour and integrity are equal to his knowledge and his other great qualities. Should he find my arguments not sufficiently clear or convincing, he will not on that account censure my design, nor judge ill of me, under the idea of my reasonings being not so good as he could have wished. Indeed, the less he finds of satisfaction in my arguments, the more ought he to excuse me, because though convinced of my insufficiency, yet I did not hesitate to obey his commands. I write then, merely because you both would have it so; and 1 freely consent, Sir, that you shew my letter, if you please, to that excellent person, and to others with whom you may converse on the subject. Yet this must be on the following conditions: First, that those gentlemen promise to give me their opinion of what I say, freely and without reserve. Secondly, that you do not give a copy |