recal our wandering thoughts for a moment, and bind them down to the subject. Surely it is only for want of reflection, that we speak and hear these things with so little emotion; surely they are in themselves of overwhelming interest; it is our fault that they are treated so lightly; we do not fix our attention on the meaning of the words uttered. I will once more repeat what was said, it was this--that such "manner of persons" as we shall appear to be in the sight of God, at the period of our death, such shall we be in the day of resurrection, and hour of final judgment, when we shall receive a corresponding doom of joy or woe eternal.

Do we dream?

What is it that we hear? Or are we engaged in the contemplation of actual truths? If we dream, let us laugh at these foolish fancies, and at ourselves for having been deluded by them; and like men who shake off the idle visions of the night, let us concern ourselves only about the realities of life. But no, you do not think it to be a dream, you know it to be as certain as the truth of God's unerring word; you know that all religion depends on the fact of a future retribution, that piety and virtue, impiety and vice, derive all their importance from that fact, that but for this it were immaterial whether man lived as a brute or a devil, that

without it, society would be disjointed, and order banished from the world, and human life would be a chaos of wild passions, and crimes, and misery. Why should I go on contending for the certainty of what you believe? "It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the judgment." You acknowledge both these assertions to be true; the one you know from your own experience, and the other you believe on the authority of a divine revelation. But perhaps you have looked at these truths from too great a distance; perhaps you may have had but an obscure and imperfect view of them; you may not have observed their strong colour and striking features; approach nearer to them, and examine them a little more closely.

I

To assist you in this, I will not speak in general terms, as if all mankind were my auditors, and I were addressing them in a body; for so, no one perhaps would take the observation to himself. But I will particularize, and suppose have singled out one individual among you, and I beg you each to consider, that what I am about to say is as strictly applicable to your own personal case, whoever you are that hear me, as if all others were absent, and it were addressed to yourself alone.

I

say then, it is appointed unto you to die.

You have been accustomed perhaps hitherto only to regard the general fact, as it embraces the whole species;-you have never much reflected on the truth as it pertains singly and separately to yourself. But you will die, no power can save you from that fate, except his, who will not. Time hastens on; day after day passes over your head, and each one brings you nearer to your grave. Smile not at the commonness of these remarks, as if it were ridiculous in me to lay so much stress upon what I cannot suppose you to be ignorant of; they are common, but they may have a new force, and a weight which you have never before felt, if you will now appropriate them to yourself.

I do not wish to disturb your mind by representing to your imagination the pains and terrors of death,—may it be without pain and terror! I only wish you at present to regard it as that necessary and unavoidable event, by which you will be for ever separated from the scenes and interests of this world, and introduced into a new state of existence. Well, your life runs its appointed course; a disease, or an accident, or natural decay, brings to a close your connexion with earth; and having passed through the intermediate state, in which the spirit subsists without the body, you stand at last before the long

expected seat of judgment. Oh! what an anxious moment will that be, in which your fate is to be determined for ever! With what joy or fear will you hear the word which will separate you eternally from the wicked or from the just, and place you on the right hand, or on the left of the throne of God! And which will actually be your portion? Only imagine it to be the worst.

Fancy to yourself that it is now come to your turn to have the whole life you led on earth examined into with the most strict and scrupulous impartiality. Behold the dreadful book of account opened, in which are registered all the particulars of your conduct, all your words, all your most secret thoughts! What a fatal catalogue! All rising in proof against you! Not one sin blotted out! Not one forgotten! Not one counterbalanced by a sufficient apology! See how many accusers are ready to bear witness against you ! First, conscience, whose reproaches you would not hear, when you might have profited by them, but which you must now hear, without avail, for ever! Then the bible, which might have been to you the word of life, but from which will now be read the sentence of your condemnation; the warnings, the admonitions, the exhortations you have received, from the visitations of God, the lips of pious friends, or of the minister of the

gospel, all plead for an aggravation of your punishment; the Holy Spirit declares with what unwearied kindness he urged you to repentance, but how he was finally grieved, and provoked to forsake you, through your obstinate refusal of his gracious suggestions. Those former companions of your sins, whom you seduced into the same evil courses with yourself, by your persuasions or your example, see how they crowd around, pointing at you as the author of their crimes, and their misery, and entreating of God that their iniquities may be visited on your head; and (worst of all) Satan himself, who once tempted you into sin, by representing its pleasures and its harmlessness, even he betrays your guilt, accuses you of having yielded to his temptations, claims you as his servant, and triumphs in the ruin which he has brought upon you. And are all these things against you? Is there no friend to appear on your behalf, and answer these your accusers? Where then is he, the Redeemer of mankind, who shed his blood on the cross, on purpose that the sins of the world might be forgiven? Behold him now, no longer a Saviour, but a Judge, exalted on his dreadful tribunal, and from henceforth waiting until all his enemies be put under his feet. And where is heavenly mercy, from whom at least you hoped for help, if all other resources should fail? Will