experimental religion, but who has not embraced it, on what his hopes of heaven are built, and he will reply, On the expectation that I shall yet repent and believe in Christ. Ask him when brought near to death with an unrenewed heart, if the assurance of the apostle is his; and you will receive a sorrowful answer, accompanied with sighs and tears. He feels that his theory is of no avail now; his heart is unholy and unfit for heaven; he has sinned away the day of grace; he tries to repent and to pray; but death will not wait for him to redeem the time that is lost. The "coming events" of eternity "cast their shadows before," and they fall on his dreary way. Death is not a "leap in the dark” to him, but the entrance into a blazing, burning world! O, if distressing sighs and heart-rending groans are heard in any place on earth, they are heard in the dying room of the nominal Christian! Dear sinner, I charge thee to beware of procrastination! Plant not thy dying pillow with these piercing thorns!

3. The practical Christian is the only person who can adopt the triumphant language of our text. Faith in our Lord Jesus Christ as a propitiatory and vicarious sacrifice for his sins, and for the sins of the whole world-faith in Christ as a Saviour who is able entirely to deliver us from the dominion, the condemnation, and the consequences of sin-faith in Christ as the Lord to whom "is given all power in heaven and in earth," secures to him the evidence of justification, pardon, adoption, and eternal life. He knows that he is not deceived, for "the Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God." He claims the promises through faith, and knows that they cannot fail, for they are as sure as the everlasting throne upon which his Saviour sits. This was the ground of Paul's confidence: "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep

that which I have committed unto him against that day." And O! my brethren, how gloriously did this assurance support him when called to die for Christ! How different the closing scene of his life from that of the infidel and the nominal Christian! See him as he is taken from the damp cell of his gloomy prison, and led to the place of execution. No anger nor malice distorts his noble countenance, but love and joy light up every feature; that sparkling eye and smiling face tell of a hope not long to be deferred. Behold him as he surrenders himself to his executioners!—

"His fight is fought, his faith has reach'd the end,
Firm to the heav'ns his glance, his heart ascend;
There with the Judge he sees his crown remain,
And if to live be Christ, to die is gain."

"Tell him, I am glad I experienced religion when in health, else I should have nothing to support me now." Such, brethren, was the language of our departed sister, whose loss we deeply feel, and whose memory we fondly cherish. From this you plainly perceive that it was experimental religion which sustained her in the hour of death-a —a religion which she embraced a year ago, when her prospect of life was more flattering than many of ours religion which failed not when earthly prospects were

-a

blasted.

Let it be remarked, however, that the assurance of Christians will, at different times, vary in its strength; but it will always be the strongest when they are most resigned to the will of God. Our departed friend had much for which to live. Hard must it have been to resign an only child even to the hands of kind friends--harder still to die without beholding the companion of her bosom who was so soon to return to her. Strange would it have been, were there no struggle between nature and grace. While she wavered in her resignation, she could not see

clearly her "mansion in the skies;" but when she gave up all to God, she enjoyed the full assurance of the apostle. "I am ready and willing to go," said she, as she thought she was stepping into the stream. When informed that it was Saturday evening, she remarked, "I expect to spend the sabbath in heaven; but O! how dreadful would it be if I should be disappointed!" "You do not expect to be disappointed, do you?" rejoined a friend. "O no," she answered; "I shall not, I know I shall not." When extreme bodily suffering diverted the mind from its accustomed course to wander it scarce knew where, even then she spoke of death as something which had no sting; yea, as a kind angel, whom she wooed to her embrace, as bearing to her a sweet release from the pains and sufferings of life. "I died happy," said she in one of her momentary wanderings, " and was accepted." Sainted spirit! is not that a reality now, which was then the vision of a disturbed imagination?

III. Some of the practical effects which this knowledge should have upon us.

1. It should lead us to devote our chief attention to the soul. This, you are aware, is not the fashion of the world. It devotes the chief attention to gratifying the bodily appetites; to satisfying the sensual desires; and to cultivating those mental faculties which fit men to walk in the polished circles of society, and pursue the pathway to influence and fame. The soul, the spiritual part of man, is least of all regarded. Do you doubt the assertion? Look abroad over society, and count the thousands who die victims to mental labour; the tens of thousands whom sensuality destroys. But if the body must soon crumble into dust, if ambition is narrowed to this world, and if the soul is immortal, and, above all, if it may live for ever in glory, should we not prize it most? Should we not prepare it for that place where there are pleasures for ever? O! let

the inspiring truth of the soul's immortality lead us to curb its sinful desires, crucify its unholy affections, mortify its lusts, and train it for heaven. Never, my brethren, never shall we regret any sacrifices which we may make, any toils we may endure, any sufferings we may experience in this great work. Devote, then, your chief attention to the soul.

2. It should support us under bodily suffering. Many and severe are our bodily afflictions; some of them the result of imprudence, and of the infringement of the laws of our physical nature; some of them the unavoidable consequence of our fall. Piercing pains, burning fevers, convulsive spasms, rack these feeble systems. Ah! they sometimes start the hidden tear, and heave the bosom with the groan of agony, while the body writhes as if the hand of death were on it. But why not bear them patiently, since they may end so soon? Why not rejoice that God is thus loosing the ropes, and taking up the stakes of our earthly tabernacle? O brother! were you to carry a spark of the Saviour's love in your bosom, and through some strange misfortune to be deprived of the privilege of going home to heaven, but compelled to live for ever in this wicked and troublous world, you might indeed mingle your tears with those of that aged woman who mourned that God had forgotten to call her home. Take courage, brother, and bear your sufferings with Christian fortitude. Remember, you sojourn in the flesh but for a day-you wander in this vale of tears but for a night. Earth is your temporal residence, heaven your eternal home.

3. It should cheer us in death. Painful must it be to gaze for the last time upon all the beautiful objects of earth, endeared as they are to us by pleasant associations and fond recollections. Hard must it be to close these eyes for ever on flowering plains and lovely landscapes;

to shut these ears to the sweet music of the rivulet and the linnet. Painful must it be to converse for the last time with beloved friends and endeared companions; to extend to them the parting hand; to exchange with them the last token of love, and feel its warm impress on our parched and dying lips; and O! the dying struggle—the last groan-the last breath-the giving up of the ghost; timid nature is frightened even at the thought! But our noblest part will have gained the victory, and shall suffer no more for ever. It will gaze on fairer scenes than any of which earth can boast; it will hear sweeter music than earth ever listened to; it will be the associate of saints redeemed, and the companion of angels; it will participate in pure and endless joys. Our friends, too, whom we have left behind, will soon follow us; for, though we may not return to them, they, if faithful, will come to us. O! I remember, when a few years ago I was called to bury an only sister, what rapturous emotions this thrilling thought created in my bosom. I shall see that sister again, said I, and with her shall range the fields of glory, and see face to face that Redeemer whom having not seen, we both loved.

Blessed be God, these glorious truths cheer the dying saint. Christ delivers him from the fear of death, and takes away its sting; yea, while the life-strings are giving way, he cries out, "Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Bereaved friends, did he not verify his word to Martha? Death," said she, "has no terrors." A few moments before her last breath, a friend sitting by her side asked, 'Martha, how does death seem?" "Dark, dark," she calmly answered. "Is there no light?" continued her friend. "Yes," said she, while a smile of joy played and lingered on her countenance, "Jesus is with me;" and in this assurance she fell asleep. As kind to thee,