was not their case; but that, in seasons of the greatest danger, they were so occupied with other thoughts that they had no leisure to think about dying. Men intoxicated by pride and ambition, or rendered desperate by vexations and furious passions, may hurry into extreme danger, or even on certain death, without reflection: yet the same persons, when attacked by wasting disease, informed of their danger, and left in solitude to reflect on their situation, often feel that dread of death, which before seemed to be extinguished; and, cherishing vain hopes, cling to life, just like other men.

And, though the consideration that death is "the wages of sin," and the infliction of a sentence denounced against man for disobedience, (and not a matter of course, or a debt of nature, as men generally speak,) is seldom duly attended to: yet, when seriously weighed, it is suited still more to shew that death is indeed a dreadful enemy.

If God inexorably inflicts that sentence on the body, which he in just pleasure denounced, will he not prove inexorable in respect of the sentence of everlasting punishment, which hangs over the immortal soul? And shall we not "fear him who "is able to destroy both body and soul in hell?"

And can death, the dire conqueror and destroyer of our race, be deprived of his armour, nay be changed into a friend? Can that stroke, which seems to cause the loss of all things, become our "gain?" This, this, my brethren, is the peculiar triumph of the gospel. To every true believer death is gain, the richest gain. And what can worldly wisdom, or even philosophy, propose, wor

thy of being put into competition with this unspeakable benefit?

You will observe, however, that I do not say, every true believer can adopt the apostle's language of full assurance, "To me to die is gain :" I have a desire to depart." Alas! few, very few indeed, if any, are so diligent, so zealous, so self-denying, so dead to the world, and so heavenly-minded, as he was; and, in proportion, their evidence that the blessing belongs to them is less clear, and their assurance cannot on scriptural grounds be so high and unwavering.-The degree also in which to die is the Christian's gain, is proportioned to that of his "growth in grace" and fruitfulness; for "one star "differeth from another star in glory." Yet every one who believes in the Lord Jesus Christ is both an heir of heaven, and " made meet" for heaven: and death will certainly be his gain. The only difficulty lies in determining whether we have the true faith, “which works by love," and is inseparable from repentance, and from all those " things "which accompany salvation."

We may consider the Christian's life after conversion, in respect of the following particulars:

1. He has troubles and sorrows in common with other men, from which death will finally deliver him, and so be his gain. "In thy life-time thou "receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus " evil things but now he is comforted and thou "art tormented." Jesus did not come into the world, and die on the cross, to save us from temporal suffering, but from sin, and from the wrath His disciples, therefore, are often left to

to come.

feel the suffering of poverty, sickness, and pain; the sorrows of domestic losses and of public calamities. "Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward:" no condition in life is exempt: every one is ready to complain of his peculiar trials: and, as this is the case, we need only add, that the Christian has at least his full share of the troubles which are common to man; but at death God delivers him from them all: while to the unbelieving these are but "the beginnings of sorrows," and of eternal weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Indeed to be delivered from the miseries of this evil world,' if known to be separable from the miseries of another world, is generally allowed to be gain, even independently of that eternal felicity reserved for the righteous. So that in very many instances life is desired, not so much for its enjoyments, as from a secret dread of the consequences of death. 'I know where I am now, but I know 'not where I shall be when I die,' was the expressive answer of an aged sufferer to the inquiry, Why he was anxiously desirous of life, though he owned its pains were far greater than its enjoyments? What an affecting condition is such a man reduced to! what a relief would the faith and hope of the Christian bring to his mind!

Sometimes, however, the pressure of suffering is so heavy, on a stout rebellious spirit, that in desperate unbelief, as regardless of consequences, the poor wretch is urged on by the first murderer, the devil, madly to rush on death for deliverance. But the believer, assaulted, as Job was under his complicated sufferings, by the same temptation, answers, "All the days of my appointed time will I

"wait till my change come." He has indeed his sorrows, and often exceedingly heavy trials; but he has also comforts and supports peculiar to himself, which enable him to bear up under them all.

2. But the Christian has sufferings to which others are strangers, and from which death will deliver him, and thus prove his great gain. "In the world ye shall have tribulation." The world will hate or scorn the devoted servants of Jesus Christ; yet they have the same feelings as other men, and the same natural dislike to be despised, calumniated, insulted, and persecuted. The circumstance, that a Christian's "foes are those of his own house," often infuses additional bitterness into his cup of sorrow. He cannot but lament to see his dearest relatives, whose welfare lies near his heart, evidently treading the broad road to destruction. When he has bestowed all the affectionate pains he can for their best interest, they frequently send him away" to weep in secret places for their pride.' He looks around, and sometimes " rivers of water "run down his eyes, because men keep not the "divine law," and neglect the salvation of the gospel, He has "a heart of flesh," and cannot but mourn with those that mourn; as the Saviour wept at the grave of Lazarus, as well as over the devoted inhabitants of Jerusalem. The calamities of families and of nations; the divided and corrupted state of the church; the prevalence of heresy and impiety: the triumphs of infidels and deceivers; and a world lying in the wicked one; these are to him sources of frequent sorrow: and the language of profaneness is" as a sword in his bones, while men say, Where is now thy God?"

Thus he " groans, being burdened: " but especially his heart knoweth its own bitterness, in respect of his sins, conflicts, and temptations. He often finds his former sins called to remembrance, and reflects on them anew with deep remorse and self-abasement, especially when he witnesses any of their evil consequences. Alas! he has frequently still to mourn with godly sorrow and inward anguish, because he has contracted fresh guilt, and ungratefully offended his heavenly Father. Sometimes he is thus led to fear lest he has hitherto deceived himself; and having grieved his gracious Comforter, he is left in darkness, under rebukes and chastenings to bewail his folly, and is thus brought back with weeping and supplication. But it is well if he pass through life without, in some degree, rejoicing the hearts of the wicked by more grievous falls, and thus causing the name of God to be blasphemed: and, if preserved from this most deplorable evil, and a stranger to that anguish which must permanently be felt by those who have thus fallen and been graciously recovered, he has been kept by means of "fearing always," and so constantly crying for help to God. These fears, however, are a deduction from his comforts, though they conduce to his safety.

So long as the Christian lives in this world, sin dwells within him, whether it prevail against him, or not; and, the more he delights in the law of God, and longs to be perfectly holy, and consequently the more he hates sin, the greater uneasiness will he experience from its presence in his heart, and from the risings of evil desires and passions, which will mingle with his best obedience.