the world takes its standard of mora- | halting of its disciples. This very dislity from it; and the higher the ground position to close observation, often is on which Christianity stands, the the means of conviction and subsehigher will the morality of the world quent conversion to God. They find become. The miracles of Moses were a principle equal to all the circumcopied by the magicians of Pharaoh. stances of life, superior to its trials, capable of subduing rugged tempers, wayward passions, and alone enabling them to resist allurements and temptations, which overcome those who have no such principles to support them. The indirect and collateral influences of Christianity become subservient to its progress; and in the number of human means, will be of no trifling power. Its influence has procured for it toleration, and often encouragement. It has given to its professors opportunities of making its claims on the world more conspicuous, and has called into action a vast variety of agents and instruments, who go before it, and break up the fallow ground, and prepare the way of the Lord, making his paths straight. The enmity of the human heart breaks out in implied and secret, rather than in avowed, persecution. The glory of the church consists in the holiness of its members, and that holiness must spring from the heart. The higher the degree of holiness a professed Christian possesses, the greater will be his individual usefulness, and the higher the tone of vigour of the church of Christ.-The church becomes more in unison with heaven, more completely the temple of God, an habitation for himself through the Spirit. God delights in them, and walks in them, and they become his sons and daughters; and, collectively, they may be described fair as the sun, clear as the moon, and terrible as an army with banners. The world reads the principles of Christianity in the lives of its professors. They have a general idea, that Christians profess more than others; they find them rejecting many things in which they delight, and they expect consistency in all things. It is true a consistent Christian will be assailed as righteous overmuch, and charged with hypocrisy and deceit. The world discovers its spirit, on the one hand, in imperiously demanding "what do ye more than others?" and when they find more self-denial, and more active devotedness to good works in Christians, they basely attack their motives, and judge the secrets of their hearts. Yet religion is influential when least desired and esteemed, and gathers strength from the ranks of those who most closely watch and wait for the 66 There are many who groan under the domination of lusts they cannot overcome, of tempers they cannot subdue, and of passions they assert to be irresistible. They feel the weight of their chain, and say we are delivered to do all these abominations." Nothing can convince such characters but living examples; and when they read the power of faith in the holy lives of consistent professors, they are surprised, chagrined, and sometimes converted to God. It is not the fruits of religion so much as the internal principle, that the world dislikes; and often, for the sake of the fruit, the world tolerates the principle. An awful and serious hinderance has frequently been placed in the way of the progress of religion, by the obtrusive conduct of injudicious professors of Christianity. In its loveliest form, religion is an object of t dislike, but the excrescences arising from the folly of persons, perhaps sincere, though mistaken, afford unhappy sources of excuse to those who are already alienated from God, and opposed to his cause. If real, though mistaken professions, excite dislike and contempt, real hypocrisy is a still more hateful source of enmity and dislike. Although nothing can excuse a rejection of religion, yet those are much to be pitied who have never seen its effects, except as connected with deceit, or some unworthy. motive, A consistent Christian is a lovely sight,-lovely in early life-lovely in busy life, but one who, at the close of a lengthened life, can say, "I have fought the good fight," one who has weathered the storms of temptation, the pitiless assaults of ridicule and reproach,-one who has kept his faith amidst contending errors, whose temper has not been soured by opposi tions,-who has, through life, overcome evil by good, and triumphed by a holy life, calm and still, in the even ing of his days, the friend, the adviser, and the example of the young,-such an one does more to recommend the faith of Jesus, than volumes of writing, or the most ostentatious display of zeal and activity. His past days, and his present existence, prove that communion with God is a reality,-that religion is no delusion,--that to be spiritually minded is life, is peace, is joy unspeakable, and full of glory. His reward is not his who has tampered with the world not that of a mixed character-not that of indecision, but of one who can say, Through grace I have kept myself, and now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee. Copied J. W. SOLITARY HOURS. (Continued from Vol. VII. col. 1106.) No. VII.-On Death. in the conduct of that man, who, almost every day, hears of the disso lution of individuals whom he numbered among his acquaintances, and yet continues as indifferent about death, as if he had a peculiar revelation from heaven, assuring him that he was immortal. Nay, it too frequently occurs, that human beings can engage with all imaginable indifference, in making the minutest arrangements regarding the intended funeral of some deceased friend; and convey the fragments of mortality to the silence of the grave, without ever recollecting that they must soon accompany them thither. We cannot account for this direful infatuation, on any other principle than that of the blinding influence of sin, which either leads men to forget that they are mortal, or obstructs their moral perception of those infinitely momentous circumstances associated with the article of death. Could men be brought to an habi "Live then, while heaven in pity lends thee tual sense of their approaching disso life, THAT the period of man's residence in this world is but of short and uncertain duration, is a doctrine of the sacred volume which is daily confirmed by actual observation. Those funerals which we so often witness passing in solemn procession through our streets, admonish us of the departure of some members of the human family; and the seeds of mortality are so thickly sown in our natures, that they will, sooner or later, bring us to the house appointed for all living. However reluctant we may be to part with those earthly objects on which our warmest affections had been centred, we cannot, by any possible means, avert the stroke which ushers us into a scene of "untried being." Stimulated by the warm attachment which friendship inspires, our friends may offer up to the Author and Preserver of our existence, many a heartfelt prayer for a prolongation of our lives; and we ourselves, shrinking at the idea of separation, may join in the petition; but 'tis all in vain; the decree hath been pronounced-and it cannot be reversed-" It is appointed unto all men once to die." There is something passing strange 85.-VOL, VIII. lution, they would necessarily begin. to make that preparation for the solemn event, by which alone they can undergo it with joyful and triumphant feelings. If, instead of banishing from their minds the contemplation of their latter end, they would make it the theme of their constant meditation, we should not behold so prevailing a torrent of iniquity in the world;-nor would our minds be so frequently made to shudder at the terrific representations of the death-bed experiences of expiring sinners. To awaken the mind from this state of torpor, let us first direct its attention to the importance of death; and secondly, to our utter uncertainty regarding the time at which it will take place with respect to ourselves. We are accustomed to invest with great importance, any of those circumstances which are calculated materially to affect our happiness or misery in this state of existence; and if the event of bodily dissolution does seal our everlasting happiness, or eternal misery,-as is readily allowed by all,it must unquestionably be an event of the very greatest importance. Were death, as some of the French philosophers have asserted, and some of our British philosophers believed, "an eternal sleep;" or were it possible that, in the intermediate state betwixt death and the general judgment, we D could work out that salvation which | either on himself or on those around in this world we had totally neglected, then we might justly regard the subject as of comparatively little moment, and be excused for delaying the consideration of it during the whole of our lives. But being convinced in our minds, that this is not the case,-being assured, by the concurrent testimony of reason and revelation, that our souls are in their very nature immortal, and that they must exist either in the felicity of heaven, or take up their eternal abode in those regions of unutterable wo; when, I say, we are assured of this, and are farther convinced that on the manner in which we expire, depends this everlasting happiness or eternal misery,-death is, undoubtedly, of all other subjects, the most important, and presents the most paramount claims to our serious consideration. Death is of the utmost importance, in what light soever we view it. Are we among the happy number whose names are registered in the Lamb's book of life,-death will then derive its importance from being the final termination of all those trials, and sorrows, and sufferings, to which we have been subjected while here; and the glorious commencement of the full fruition of all those hopes we had formed, and fondly cherished, of happiness in the world to come. But the event of death will be replete with importance to those who have never experienced the influence of vital religion on their hearts. It is painful to think, that the far greater portion of mankind is of this description; and they may, with the greatest propriety, be arranged into two classes. The first consists of those who are denominated religious hypocrites; and the second, of the openly profane.-There are thousands in the world who make so great pretensions to religious feelings and experiences, (and they may perhaps sustain their profession so untarnished in the eyes of the world, and even of the genuine disciples of Jesus,) that their experimental acquaintance with regenerating grace has never been doubted. But when the approaches of death begin to be observed, the mask of hypocrisy is immediately thrown aside, and the individual appears in his true character, and in all his native deformity. He can no longer practise deception, him. The judgment-seat, an omniscient and inexorable Judge, and a wretched eternity, stand unveiled before him; and as it is these, and not the world, he has now to deal with, his religious profession is of no further service.— "A death-bed 's a detector of the heart. scene! The event of death is of the greatest importance to the openly profane. The man who has never bestowed one single serious thought on the condition of his soul, or the momentous concerns of eternity;-who has been plunged, during the whole of his life, in the vortex of folly, dissipation, and iniquity; whose affections have been concentrated in worldly pursuits and sensual indulgences ;-such a man will find the event of death to be important indeed, for it will blast for ever the imaginary happiness he had enjoyed, and open the flood-gates of that consummate misery he has secured for himself through eternity. But if there are any who regard the disunion betwixt soul and body as a matter of no moment, let them visit the chambers of death, and while they behold the last struggles of expiring nature, let them ask the dying individual (it matters not whether he be saint or sinner) what are his sentiments regarding death? and he will immediately reply, that it is an event of the very greatest importance. Should they refuse to yield implicit credence to his solemn assertion, which surely, at so critical a moment, merits their cordial belief, let them attend to his dying exercises, and in them they will see the same truth fully established. If he be a saint, they will see the importance of death in those immediate prospects of eternal bliss which its near occurrence affords him, clearly to be understood, not merely from the expressions of his lips, but also from that joy which they infuse into his soul, and which enlivens his countenance. If he be an unpardoned sinner, the same truth will be demonstrated from his death-bed exercises. Spectators will not merely learn the awful forebodings which torment his soul from the horrific exclamations which proceed from his mouth; but From our dim regions to th' eternal Sun.” They see the light, and turn their eyes aside Happy infants! What innumerable disappointments!-what pungent pains! what overwhelming sorrows! do you avoid, by your early translation into another and better world! they will likewise see them depicted | lent in the world. Of them it may in his countenance. Already he thinks be said,he sees the Judge enthroned, and hears him pronouncing the sentence which seals his eternal misery. Already he thinks he hears the dolorous shrieks of those wretched beings with whom he must take up his eternal abode. And already he thinks he smarts under the lash, and beholds the terrific visages, of those malignant fiends, whose sole occupation shall consist in tor-behold, who, after having survived the menting him for ever. In one word, years of infancy and childhood,-when the impenitent sinner is, in the pros- in the full prime and vigour of youth,pect of death, the subject of unspeak- | full of life and gaiety of spirits;-how able misery. And if, on the event of many, I say, of this description, do we death, such happiness or misery de- behold snatched away from our sight pends, is it not of infinite importance, | and our society, and entombed in an and worthy of our habitual contem- early grave! plation? But we hasten to consider the uncertainty of death. That we must die,and that the day of our death cannot be far distant, are facts of which we are as firmly convinced as we are of our own existence; but of the precise | period when our dissolution shall take place, we know nothing more than we do of the day of judgment. Were we to ransack the invaluable contents of inspired truth, in search of the period of our translation from this to another world, we should be compelled to close the precious volume in disappointment, and arise from the exercise as ignorant, on that subject, as when we sat down. Or, were we to appeal to reason on the subject,-it can furnish us with no data by which to conjecture with any degree of probability, much less to arrive at any certain conclusion, with regard to the time of our death; for should we presume to measure the term of our existence in this world by the life of any given individual who had reached a certain age, our reason, debilitated as it is, would admonish us of our folly, by calling up to our recollection, the vast numbers we have seen making their exit out of the world at every age,—from the infant in its mother's arms, to the infirm and decrepit man, over whose head had passed the period of fourscore years. How many thousands of innocent little babes make their entrance into, and their exit out of, this mortal state, at almost one and the same moment; indicating to all around, by their cries and suffering, that they too feel the misery which is so preva How many again do we every day Matilda was young, and beautiful, and accomplished. She was the life and soul of the social party. Her company was anxiously courted by all who had ever enjoyed the pleasures of her conversation. She delighted in nothing but frequenting the theatre and ball-room, and every other place of fashionable resort;--and it engrossed the whole of her thoughts by day and by night, how she might, when there, display her personal and intellectual charms to the greatest advantage. She looked forward to a long continuance of such scenes of gaiety and amusement, and anticipated great pleasure from them. But, ah! while returning one evening from the theatre, she met with a disaster, or rather a dispensation of Providence, which, in a few hours, terminated her earthly existence. If we proceed a step further, what numbers crowd on our sight, bending beneath a load of years,-sinking under the pressure of those accumulated infirmities which are inseparable from old age,-tottering on the brink of the grave, and at last falling into it! Christopher was a man who had seen the many interesting events, and marvellous improvements which had taken place during the space of fourscore annual revolutions of the world. He was still as intently concerned about the affairs of this life, as if he had been certain of yet surviving another century and indeed, like most other men who have reached his advanced age-he promised himself the enjoyment of a few years more. He went out one morning to take his accustomed walk, was suddenly taken ill, and in a few days after breathed | accomplishments and powerful talents his last. "Man oft computes that age he cannot reach, He scarce believes he's older for his years; Thus, at life's latest age, we keep in store One disappointment, sure to crown the rest, The disappointment of a promis'd hour." Thus the event of death happeneth to men of every age; and we have seen, that at whatever period it doth come, it generally comes in an unexpected and uncertain moment. Nor does the tyrant death know any distinctions. The high, the low, the rich, the poor, the learned, and the illiterate, are promiscuously chosen at his time, not their's, as his unavoidable victims. The pomp and splendour of an earthly palace form no more security against the approach of death, to the illustrious personages who inhabit it, than the unadorned walls of the secluded cottage do, to the humble inmates who inhabit them. Nor need the learned philosopher value himself on account of his extensive literary acquisitions; for he is every moment as much exposed to the stroke of death, as the unlettered peasant, who is entirely unacquainted with the rudiments of the most common branches of education. The arrows of death are every moment flying so thickly around us, that we cannot tell but we may be their next victim. Where is the man, among the vast multitudes of the human race, who can assure himself when he goes out on a journey, however short, that he shall live to return? or, when he arises in the morning, that he shall ever again lie down in the evening? or, when he lies down in the evening, that he shall ever again arise in the morning? The writer of this article cannot tell but these may be the last observations he shall ever commit to writing; nor canst thou, reader, be certain whether they may not be the last thou wilt ever peruse. But in considering the uncertainty of death, we might pursue another train of thought.-We have seen the student, who, for a series of years, has pursued his researches with such ardent and unremitting intensity, as to deny himself the ordinary recreation of life, or that cessation from labour which is indispensably necessary for recruiting exhausted nature;--we have seen such a man, when his great were on the eve of procuring for himself a lasting reputation, and of advancing the interests of society, arrested by the hand of death, and enshrined in the bosom of the earth. We have heard of the man, who, during his residence in a foreign sultry clime, had accumulated an immense fortune, laid low in the dust of death, while actively engaged in making the necessary arrangements for returning to his native country, with a view of enjoying the fruits of his early industry and economy. We have heard of the most illustrious philosophers that have ever appeared on our globe, who, after having made the most valuable discoveries, have been summoned to another world, just when about to receive the admiration and gratitude of mankind.—We have heard of the demise of the profound and sagacious statesman, while his soul was intently bent on the execution of some political measure, which, had it been accomplished, might have transmitted his name to the latest ages, and have conferred incalculable advantages on generations yet unborn.-We have heard of the most renowned warriors, which any age or country has produced, having been seized by the unyielding hand of death, after achieving a series of mighty victories, and effecting the conquests of kingdoms,-from which they had foolishly anticipated a long life of unbounded glory and aggrandizement. But not to pursue this train of thought to an unjustifiable length, let it be remarked, that the uncertainty of death must forcibly occur to every mind, if we consider the number and variety of causes by which it is produced. Some are ushered into the eternal world when they were little prepared to expect it;-by a fall from a horse-by the accidental discharge of a musket-by drowning, either when bathing or sailing for pleasure, and by a thousand other means, in addition to those internal causes by which it is most generally accomplished. And we have known many instances of mortality, by some of those circumstances which are usually considered of the most trivial nature; such as the swallowing a fly-the digesting of food-or the extraction of a hair from any part of the body. The causes of death are indeed so |