Written on the day preceding his Execution. MY DEAR AND LOVING MARGARET, Stirling Castle, Sept. 7, 1820. Before this arrives at your hand I will be made immortal, and will be, I trust, singing praises to God and the Lamb, amongst the spirits of just men made perfect, through the atoning blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, whose all-sufficient merits are infinitely unbounded, than even all the sins of a sinful world—and he is able and willing to save to the uttermost all those that are enabled to come to him by faith in his blood. What consolation does this render to me, who, while writing this, am within a few short hours of launching into an eternity where I am not afraid to enter, although a poor, unworthy, miserable sinner, and not worthy of the least of his notice. Yet I trust he will put on his unspotted robe of righteousness, and present my poor and unworthy soul to his Father, redeemed with his most precious blood. Think, my dear Margaret, on the goodness of Almighty God to me in the last and closing period of my life. O think on it, and draw consolation from that source from whence I obtained it, and from whence consolation and real fortitude can alone be obtained. Could you have thought that I was sufficient to withstand such a shock, which at once burst upon me like an earthquake, and buried all my vain earthly hopes beneath its ruins, and at once left me a poor shipwrecked mariner on this bleak shore, and separated from thee, in whom all my hopes were centered? But, alas! how vain are all the earthly hopes of us weak-sighted mortals. How soon are they all buried in oblivion. My dear Margaret, put yourself to no concern about me.— O may that good and gracious God who has supported me so peculiarly support you also in every gracious dispensation of his Providence that he is pleased to visit you with. O that he may send his ministering angels and soothe you with the balm of comfort. O may they approach the beauteous mourner, and tell you that your lover lives-triumphs-lives— though condemned, lives to a nobler life. My dear Margaret, I hope you will not take it as a dishonour that your unfortunate lover died for his distressed, wronged, suffering, and insulted country; no, my dear Margaret, I know you are possesed of nobler ideas than that, and well do I know that no person of feeling or humanity will insult you with it—I have every reason to believe that it will be the contrary. I shall die`firm to the cause in which I embarked, and although we were outwitted and betrayed, yet I protest, as a dying man, it was done with a good intention on my part. But well did you know my sentiments on that subject long before I was taken prisoner. No person could have induced me to take up arms to rob or plunder; no, my dear Margaret, I took them for the restoration of those rights for which our forefathers bled, and which we have allowed shamefully to be wrested from us; but I trust the innocent blood which will be shed to-morrow, in place of being a terror, will awaken my countrymen,-my poor, suffering, countrymen, from that lethargy which has so overclouded them! But, my dear Margaret, this is not a very pleasing subject to you, so I will leave it, and direct your attention to matters of more importance-to the one thing needful. Recollect, my dear Margaret, that we are, one and all of us, lost and miserable sinners, and that you have, as well as me, to stand before a great and just God, who is infinite and pure, and who cannot look upon sin but with the utmost abhorrence, and that it is only through the blood of a crucified Saviour that we can expect mercy at his awful tribunal. My dear Mar garet, I will be under the necessity of laying down my pen, as this will have to go out immediately. "O may God's grace your life direct, From evil guard your way; And in temptation's fatal paths You will give my dying love to your Father and Mother, James and Agnes, Mrs. Connell, and Jean Buchanan, and I exhort you all to a close walk with God, through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and when you have fulfilled a course of life agreeable to his word, that we may be united together in the mansions of peace, where there is no sorrow.-Farewell-a long farewell to you and all worldly cares, for I have done with them. I hope you will call frequently on my distressed and afflicted Mother. At the expense of some tears I destroyed your letters. Again farewell, my dear Margaret, may God attend you still, and all your soul with consolation fill, is the sincere prayer of your most affectionate and constant lover while on earth, ANDREW HARDIE, DEAR FRIEND, To Isobel Condy, Stirling. BEFORE this reaches your hand I will be immortal, and, I trust, singing to the glory of God and the Lamb, amongst the spirits of those who have washed their robes in the precious and innocent blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, whose all-sufficient merits are infinitely unbounded to save a whole sinful world through his blood. My dear young friend, I hope you will not put yourself to concern about me, if you would allow yourself to contemplate a little on the wisdom and goodness of God in all his procedure with us, the weak children of his hand. He gave us our being; we are subject unto him; and he can call us to his glorious presence whenever he sees it meet. He is pure and infinite; he can do nothing wrong; and however painful our trials and afflictions may be to us poor, feeble, weak mortals, yet we are assured that he worketh all to his glory and our good. He often sees painful trials to be necessary to reconcile those whom he loveth to himself, as it is written, "The Lord chasteneth whom he loveth." What will it avail me to-morrow at this same hour if I be found in Christ? Although I had lived a thousand years in this miserable and transient world mattereth nothing to us, if we are ready: "Be ye therefore ready, for at such an hour as ye think not the call cometh." My dear friend, this is a command of great importance, and I earnestly entreat you will never forget it. My dear friend, although my past life never merited public censure, yet, upon serious self-examination, I found myself far deficient in my duty towards God. I found myself a poor, lost, miserable sinner, and utterly unable, by any means whatever, to extricate myself from a gulf of sin and misery, into which I, and the whole race of mankind, were plunged, and I found also, that I had greatly aggravated my charge by actual transgressions innumerable. I found also, by reading my Bible, which I had often done before this affair happened, but not with that serious attention which, with the assistance of God, I performed after I was taken prisoner-I found that God was just and pure, and could not look upon sin but with abhorence, and that sin merits eternal death. Now, my dear friend, I was forced to call out, like the jailor at Phillippi, who, when he saw Paul and Silas out of the stocks, or irons, which he had previously locked them into, he doubtless was convinced at once that this could not be done but by the interposition of some supernatural power-he was convinced that the god or gods which he worshipped (being a heathen) could work no such miracles as this, and trembling, fell down before Paul and Silas, and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" which brought forth that joyful and important answer from the blessed Apostle, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." O joyful sound! O joyful words! How comprehensive-how important-how complete. "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.-Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." This is the balm that heals every wound-this the cure for a wounded conscience. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the Son of Man be lifted up." So, my dear young friend, if we look unto the Lord Jesus Christ with a steady eye of faith, we shall find a balm for every wound. My dear friend, I hope you will keep a steady walk with God, through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; but I hope you are not ignorant of the nature of these matters. However, I trust you will excuse me for laying them before you; you will be nothing the worse by being put in mind of them, and I earnestly hope that you will keep them in your remembrance, particularly as they are from a poor, unfortunate young man, who was cut off in the bloom of his prime, just as it were entering into life, and who had built, as he thought, for ages, his earthly hopes; but, alas! how vain are all the hopes of man, "He cometh forth like a flower and is cut down, he appears also like a shadow, but continueth not." Farewell! farewell, my dear young friend! farewell all the fond, boasted pleasures, of a vain world, I have done with them. "A brother the Heavens hath gained, Outflying the tempest and wind; His rest he hath sooner obtain'd, And left his companions behind.” I hope you will excuse any inaccuracies in this letter, as my time is drawing very near a close. Again farewell, my young friend; I hope our next meeting will be in glory. Addressed by him thus-From Andrew Hardie to Isabella Condy, as a token of gratitude for her kind attention to him while a Prisoner in Stirling Castle, who fell a Martyr to the cause of Truth and Justice on the 8th of September, 1820. Stirling Castle, Thursday night, at 10 o'clock, 7th of September, 1820. To Isabella Condy, Stirling. In No. 13, page 200, in Note at foot of page, for John Goodwin, read Robert Goodwin. The following lines, extracted from Dr. Dodd's Thoughts in Prison, were found among his papers in his own hand-writing. ON THE SEVERITY OF THE BRITISH CODE OF PENAL LAWS. "Yet, oh ye Sons of Justice !-ere we quit This awful court, expostulation's voice Your honest hearts to nature's touches true, Of human crime! And shall the petty thief The CONCLUDING No. will be published on Saturday, the 3d of November; and along with it will be given, gratis, a Plan or Sketch of the Monument to HARDIE and BAIRD. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY MUIR, GOWANS, & CO., 42, ARGYLL-STREET, SOLD BY J. STEWART, 11, ST. JAMES'S STREET, PAISLEY; AND ALL THE BOOKSELLERS. |