tremble who thinks the care of his soul necessary, and yet is for deferring it to the last part of life. But supposing remission of sins and repentance to be granted at last, how miserable to reflect on the evils committed, the long train of painful consequences that have followed, and which, perhaps, can never be remedied-no, not in eternity! O, how awful to think that I, by a sinful example, have been the occasion of the everlasting ruin of a son, a daughter, a servant, a neighbor! What feelings must I have, what tears must I shed, and what an awful gloom will be cast over old age! Let me entreat, my dear reader, if you be still unacquainted with divine things, no longer to indulge the thoughts of delay. It is religion alone that can make old age pleas ant, and death welcome. Holy Spirit, penetrate the hearts of the unconcerned. May they seek thee while thou art to be found. Show them their misery and sinfulness. Lead them to the Saviour of sinners. On him may they now rest, and when the declining days of life shall come, may they go down with peace to the grave, and be for ever with the Lord! Amen.

DEATH, considered in any light, is a very solemn and awful scene; but it is peculiarly so as it respects the wicked; such are said to be driven away in their wickedness. They do not descend willingly to the grave. They would be happy always to exist in the, present state; they possess no regard for a Superior Being, and therefore a future state of heavenly felicity makes little or no impression on their minds. All their happiness is confined to the present world; they are therefore driven, or, as it is said, "chased out of the world." Job xviii. 18. And what is still worse, they are driven away not only in a hopeless but a sinful state. Who can contemplate the sad scene without horror? who can bear to witness it without feelings of a nature inexpressible? How awful to behold in his very countenance everything that indicates guilt and misery; to hear his groans and prayers, that his wretched life may be protracted yet a little longer; to witness his whole frame convulsed, his features changing, his lips quivering, his mind overwhelmed with despair! Ah!

"How shocking must thy summons be, O Death!
To him that is at ease in his possessions;
Who, counting on long years of pleasure here,
Is quite unfurnished for the world to come!

In that dread moment, how the frantic soul
Raves round the wall of her clay tenement,
Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help,
But shrieks in vain! How wishfully she looks
On all she's leaving, now no longer hers!
A little longer-yet a little longer :-
Mournful sight!

Her eyes weep blood, and every groan
She heaves is big with horror. But the foe,
Like a staunch murderer, steady to his purpose,
Pursues her close through every lane of life,
Nor misses once the track; but presses on,
Till, forced at last to the tremendous verge,
At once she sinks to everlasting ruin !"

BLAIR.

But what a different scene do we behold in the death of the righteous character!

"Mark the per

for the end of

Death has no

fect man, and behold the upright, that man is peace." Ps. xxxvii. 37. terrors to him-his sins are pardoned; his guilt is removed. No bitter reflections on his past conduct. No anxiety to return and prolong his existence in the present world. No fearful looking for of the day of wrath and punishment. Not that the righteous all depart with the same feelings. The joys of some are not so high as others; yea, some expire with but a small degree of confidence and joy: but this is not the case in general. Few but can say,

when the moment actually arrives, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” 1 Cor. xv. 54.

Indeed, from the great felicity many good men enjoy at death, it seems, as a good writer observes, "as if the weakness of the bodily frame gave occasion to the awakening of some faculty, till then dormant in the soul, by which invisibles are not only believed but seen, and unutterables are heard and understood." In order, however, that we may see how peculiarly welcome it is to the righteous, let us consider the scriptural account of it.

It is called a departure. "The time of my departure is at hand." 2 Tim. iv. 7.

"Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ." Phil. i. 23. He is not violently torn or driven away in a storm, as the wicked, but he departs as one that is set at liberty from his chains. The present world is a state of confinement, when compared to the heavenly world; the soul is here lodged in the body as in a contracted prison. Her powers are cramped, her exertions are fettered, her prospects are bounded. But death unlocks the gate, destroys the chains, and says to the prisoner, go forth, enjoy your liberty; depart to yonder celestial mansion. What an idea does this give us of the happiness of a believer at the hour of death! Here, alas! the chain confines and galls. We feel the sad effects of being immured in a prison where dwells so much darkness and depravity. Fain would the soul leap out and fly;

but what powerful hindrances, what sad restraints ! When death, however, arrives, liberty is proclaimed, and a departure is announced to a land where we shall no more be reduced to captivity; where no enemy will oppose, no chain be worn, for ever.

When good men die, they depart as travellers to a better country, or as from an inn to their home. That is truly a happy land where knowledge is diffused, peace enjoyed, sociality indulged, health promóted, property secured, and persons protected. Such a country is heaven, and to depart for such a state must be pleasant and delightful. This, too, is his home: he is not going to a place where he will be a stranger, where it will be uncertain whether he shall be received. It is the kingdom of his Father, where everything is provided for his happiness. It is to his own inheritance, purchased and bestowed on him as a free gift by Jesus, his elder brother. Who, then, feels distress, who laments, who can be unhappy, at the thought of a departure from a temporary accommodation, where the storm is so often felt, to that glorious state where majesty and splendor indeed dwell, but where love and joy for ever reign?

The departure of a believer is the departure of the mariner from a distant country to his desired haven. He quits the shores of time to launch into eternity. He has been at a distance from his own land, but how willingly he leaves all to meet his happy connections, to breathe his native air, to taste