relieved from his perturbed emotions by looking at his deeds of righteousness and blameless conduct. All, all are covered with defilement in the light of that awful purity which belongs to God, and which, in strong and startling flashes, is already beginning its eternal blaze around him. At such an instant nothing can tranquillize his excited feelings but beholding the Lamb of God "who taketh away the sin of the world." Upon him he casts his dying eyes, while with his quivering breath he cries, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit !"

"A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms I fall;

Be thou my strength, my righteousness,
My Jesus, and my All."

Eventful, however, as is the moment at which the saint of God is arrived, and certain as is the circumstance that in a little while his already struggling spirit will enter the state that is invisible, and amidst all the excitement which a keen perception of his position can hardly fail to produce within him, yet his emotions are not all either gloomy or perplexing; since, if his views of ethereal blessedness be at

all vivid and distinct, and his hope of entering upon it be at all satisfactory to him, oh! then it is impossible that the thoughts of such amazing bliss as that which is now before him, and the prospect of such a blaze of glory as that which will almost instantaneously burst upon him, can do otherwise than fill him with emotions of joy and rapture [Note a] which, as they rise, must overwhelm every other that might at all disturb or mar his peace !—True, the earth, with all her lovely scenes, hallowed associations, and endearing ties, is fast receding from him; but if the scenes and associations of earth are thus disappearing from the compass of his mortal vision, a brighter world, brighter scenes, and more hallowed associations, are opening to the vision of his faith. And it is altogether rational to suppose that that sight and perception which so exclusively belong to faith, should become the more vivid and acute in proportion as the spirit is disengaging herself from material things, and is getting nearer to her glorious destiny. And, if this be true, it will easily account for those bright perceptions of ethereal bliss with which

heavenly-minded men are not unfrequently favoured in their expiring moments, and which, when bestowed, turn the very chamber of sickness into the house of God and the gate of heaven; so that, while the strings of their heart are breaking, and the paleness of death is covering their countenance, the rapture which those perceptions produce not only raises them above the sufferings they endure, but affords them a delightful antepast of the felicity they shall enjoy when, being "absent from the body," they shall be “ present with the Lord.” Hence, many of the emotions of a holy man, as he is about to die, are animating and pleasing; occasionally, indeed, his joy [Noteb] at the prospect of so soon entering into glory, and of beholding the face of his Father "who is in heaven," almost reaches that of the spirits before the throne. So that if nature is excited at the thought of so quickly passing from a scene in which there is much to interest and attract his mind, the felicity that is before him not only lifts him above the influence of such emotions, but fills him with intense desires to depart and to enter upon it.

And, after all, great as are the attractions of the scene he is about to leave, it presents much that is repulsive and distressing to him. For, ah! it is a scene which sin has marred, whose fairest forms of beauty it has despoiled, and whose every spring of pleasure it has polluted and embittered. Great, therefore, as was the happiness he has enjoyed upon it, it has not been without a large alloy of suffering and affliction. In the world he has had tribulation. So great, indeed, has been the anguish of his heart and the sufferings he has endured, that he has not unfrequently yearned for the moment now at hand, in which his spirit, having stretched her wings, should flee away, and be at rest for ever. And often, while sailing upon this stormy scene, and endangered by its rocks and quicksands, has he darted his thoughts to the ethereal coast, and intensely longed for such a sight of that peaceful shore as is now before him. Whatever therefore be the feelings of his heart as he is separating from objects and associations which have long been endeared and hallowed to him, he is overwhelmed with rapture at the thought

that that very separation, painful as it in many respects may be, will be his deliverance from evils under which he has so deeply sighed, and his shelter from the storms and perils of a voyage for the issue of which he has so often trembled.

But that which produces the highest rapture in the breast of a righteous character while upon the wing for heaven, is the view which his faith affords of the glory that is before him, and of the felicity into which he is about to enter. For,

"Heaven waits not the last moment-owns her friends On this side death, and points them out to men." And this she does by darting her radiance upon their departing spirit, and by filling them with a portion of her own unutterable felicity. For, with every allowance for the enthusiasm of warm, lively, and ardent imaginations it can, I think, be hardly doubted that in his expiring hour many a holy man has been favoured with bright perceptions of the glory that is to encircle him for ever [Note c], and that he has then begun to drink of that river of pleasure of which ethereal spirits so abundantly partici