......>ར. figned, and our heart and flesh fail us, it will be of the greatest consequence to know, upon fure and certain grounds, that God is the heart, and our portion for ever. ftrength of our The good man will then, more than at any former period, be lead to fay, In his favour is life. The sweet experience of the divine favour will be above all things desirable, to fatisfy the foul of its being in a state of fafety. Perhaps the dying man hath been often doubting and disputing his interest in the Redeemer, and his title to the heavenly inheritance, while in health and vigour. If, under the power of a threatening diftemper, and in the immediate profpects of his diffolution, these hesitations ftill remain, the bed of languishing will be very uneafy to him. He will probably exprefs the anxieties of his mind in fome fuch language as the following: "Alas! what fhall I do? I believe myself to be a dying man, and my foul, I fear, is in a dangerous state. I am paising into another world, and I know not where I fhall land. I am going the way I fhall never return; it is a great journey, and an awful one. O eternity, eternity, how folemn is the profpect! How near am I now either to heaven or hell, to eternal falvation, or everlasting damnation! My paft fins and follies crowd afrefl into my remembrance ......4.. membrance, and difquiet my confcience. I am doubtful of the truth of my repentance, because my heart is deceitful, the work is great, and attended with many difficulties. It is certain many do deceive themselves, and think they are something when they are nothing. I tremble, and am fore afraid, left I should be found one of that number. 6 Shall I fay, with the dying Emperor of Rome, "O my poor wandering, trembling, felf-flattering foul, whither art thou going! Thou must no longer hold converse with men, nor enjoy thy former delights any more; ah, whither art thou going!" Or fhall cafe be like that of him who faid, I have my lived anxioufly, and I die doubtingly!' Alas! I am afraid to part with life, and leave this world, not knowing whether God be my friend or my enemy. O what would I give for a fatisfying teftimony of my reconciliation with God! The affurance of his favour would be worth more to me than ten thousand worlds. Would he be graciously pleafed to fmile upon my foul, and lift up upon me the light of his countenance, I fhould not be afraid to die. Lord, thy favour is life to a dying man ; grant me, O grant me some kind token of it; how else shall I pass this gloomy vale, and launch forth into the unknown abyfs of eternity! "Death .... $4.... "Death is armed with a dreadful fting, and accompanied with many terrors. His fting I feel within me, his terrors fhake my trembling foul, and pierce me through. I fee his ghaftly looks, I behold his horrid grin, and even feel his fangs faftening on my wafting flesh. My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me. O merciful Redeemer, fpeak peace to my anxious bofom, fay to my foul, I am thy falvation! I will deliver thee from going down to the pit, for I have redeemed thee, and given my own life a ransom for thee. I have tafted death for thee, I have encountered and fubdued thy dreaded foe, to make thee more than conqueror over him.' "Lord, help me to believe thy faithful word, and to take the comfort of it. Haft thou not faid, 'O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy deftruction?' Haft thou not wrested the wea. pon out of the enemy's hand, and destroyed him that had the power of death, that thou mighteft be the Deliverer of them who through fear of death were all their life-time subject to bondage? Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.-I fee, I feel the thick gloom begin to break, and the light of di vine favour beaming on my foul. The wounds of my dying Saviour are healing to my languishing heart. He takes the fting of death away, and gives. mc me peace by the blood of his crofs. My God through this is reconciled, I hear his pardoning voice, I feel his celeftial confolations, and can now adopt the triumphant challenge, O death, where is thy fting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through. our Lord Jefus Chrift! Now, Lord, letteft thou thy fervant depart in peace, for mine eyes have feen thy falvation. Though I walk through the valley of the fhadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me!"* It *The following truly fublime effufions of Dr. YOUNG'S evangelical muse, can never be too much admired. To man the bleeding crofs has promis'd all; A rebel 'midft the thunders of his throne! Nor I alone! a rebel univerfe! My fpecies up in arms! Not one exempt! O'er It is through the favour of God, that the foul immediately, on its difmiffion from the body, is received into the manfions of glory. None but the objects of his love are admitted into his presencechamber. It is true, we hear not his audible voice, as the penitent thief did, faying, To-day fhalt thou be with me in paradife. Yet God speaks to us by his faithful word of promise, and on that ground the believer may say with the Pfalmift, "God fhall redeem my foul from the power of the grave, for he fhall receive me." That is, He fhall receive me O'er guilt (how mountainous!) with out-ftretch'd arms Stern juftice and foft fmiling love embrac❜d, What but the fathomlefs of thought divine |