God's caring for his people, is not only relieving, but prospective. He foresees what they will need, and prepares them for difficulties and duties which they had not reckoned upon. He strengthens the shoulder when the burden is going to be increased. And when he gives them an additional supply of faith, hope, peace, and joy; little, perhaps, do they imagine what trials they are to endure, or what steps they are to take, in the strength of it!

But how was Elijah fitted for his journey! Surely the sustenance derived from this meal was miraculous. But it shews us what His power can do; and teaches us that man liveth not by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. "And he arose, and did eat and drink, and went in the strength of that meat forty days and forty nights, unto Horeb, the mount of God." And why did he choose to repair hither? Would no other place have afforded him an equally safe retreat? Was he actuated by curiosity? or piety? Here was much to strike his mind, and to aid his faith and devotion. Here, would he say, Israel encamped! Here fell the manna! Here moved, and here stood, the fiery cloudy pillar! On the top of this hill God spake all the words of his Law! And there God spake with Moses, face to face!— How much is connected with some spots! "And Jacob awoke and said, How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the House of God, and this is the Gate of Heaven."

JULY 12.-"I die daily."

1 Cor. xv. 31.

We need not confine the meaning; but take the expression in all its latitude of import. In what

sense could not Paul make this acknowledgment? In what sense is it not possible, or proper, for us to make it?

First. He died daily, because he professed to preach the Gospel, in constant hazard of life. " In

labours," says he, " says he, "more abundant, in stripes above. measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the Heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness." Well might he affirm, Well might he affirm, "I die daily."But in this sense, you say, the words are not applica ble to us. It is true, from many of his dangers you are secure. Your religion is not exposing you to the loss of your life; or even of your liberty, or your substance. But do not even you die daily? Are you not in jeopardy every hour? Are you not surrounded by wicked and unreasonable men, whose vices and passions would destroy you, without the restraining providence of God? Are you not liable to a thousand accidents? Do not

"Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
"To push us to the tomb?

"And fierce diseases wait around,

"To hurry mortals home?"

What a frail thing is the human body! How strange that such a curious machine, composed of such a multitude of delicate organs, should continue so long in force and operation! Know you not that the heart beats seconds; and that sixty movements of the blood take place every minute-so that sixty

times every minute the question is asked whether we are to live or die! We die daily!

Secondly. Paul could say this, as death was actually invading him daily. And this is the case with us. We are mortal, not only in destination, but state. We decay while we receive sustenance. We talk of dying! But is this a future thing? Have we not always been dying? Why

"The moment we begin to live,
"We all begin to die."

We talk of dying! Why many of us are half dead already; and some much more. Many of our connexions are dead: many of our comforts: many of our hopes. We have buried many of our opportunities, and days, and years-and every year, and every day, brings us near the entire end of the whole. It is absurd to confine dying to the act of separation between soul and body-This is only the finishing stroke-We die daily.

Thirdly. Paul, by a moral decease, died daily. So should we. To die to an object, according to the Scripture, is to have no more connexion with it, or attachment to it. Thus the Apostle says to the Romans, "Reckon ye yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin." "How shall we, who are dead to sin, live any longer therein?" And this moral dying is frequently expressed by the word crucifixion, in allusion to the mode of it; and to remind us also of the cause, as well as the example. Hence it is said, "Our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin; for he that is dead is" thus "freed from sin. Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him." Thus the Christian dies daily, by a course of mortification to sin, and the world, and the impression of things seen and temporal, and the power of tempta

tion-"For they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh, with its affections and lusts."

Fourthly. Paul died daily, by a readiness for his dissolution, whenever it should take place. And the man who is like-minded will feel a concern to be prepared to die-in a good state, and-in a good frame-to die safely to die cheerfully-to die glorifying God and having an abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour. And this must commence with the Apostle's desire, " To win Christ, and be found in him.' Nothing can be done to purpose, in our preparation for eternity, till we have said, "Into thine hand I commit my spirit; thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth." The voice from heaven only pronounces those blessed who "die in the Lord"-in a state of union and communion with him-having his righteousness to give them a title to, and his grace to give them a meetness for, the inheritance of the saints in light.

But we should be concerned, not only to be habitually, but actually ready to die. That is, to be in a waiting posture; having our loins girded, and our lamps burning; keeping our consciences clear and calm; drawing off our affections from earth; that when the summons comes we may be willing to depart, and not be constrained to plead for protraction, "O spare me a little, that I may recover strength before I go hence, and be no more." In the history of Charles V., emperor of Germany, we are told, that he resigned the reins of government, and retired into a convent in Spain. There he resolved to celebrate his own obsequies. For this pur

pose, he ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monastery of St. Justus. Thither, at the proper season, all his domestics were ordered to march in funeral procession, carrying in their hands black tapers. The Emperor followed in his shroud. Arrived at the place, he was laid in his coffin. The service

of the dead was performed: and when the ceremonies were ended, the doors were closed, the attendants dismissed, and he was left alone. After remaining some time in the grave, he arose, and repaired to his apartment, filled with all those awful reflections which the solemnity was adapted to inspire.-Now we do not recommend the practice of such a gloomy and abject superstition. But you may sanctify the expedient, at least, in thought. You may anticipate an event that must befal you. And, oh! that you were wise, that you understood this, that you would consider your latter end! Oh that you would remember, that the service you perform for others, will certainly be required for yourselves! Oh that when you see man going to his long home, and the mourners going about the streets, you would say, "I also am accomplishing, as an hireling, my day; and in a little time, my neighbours, friends, and relations, will seek me-and I shall not be!".

Would it be improper or useless for you, in imagination, to suppose yourselves-entering your sick-chamber-stretched upon a bed of languishingdying-wrapped up in your winding-sheet-laid in your coffin-friends, for the last time, touching your cold cheek with their lips or the back of their hand-the lid screwed down-and your remains borne through the mutes at the door-and accompanied to the grave-and left there while the spirit had returned to God, who gave it. In endeavouring to realize this condition, I ask, How would the world appear? What would you think of the censure or praise of men? What, of many of your pursuits? Would not this check the levity of the mind, and the pride of life?-Would not also this contemplation break the force of surprise?

--

"Familiar thoughts can slope the way to death."

But if we think not of the subject, the event will be a sudden precipice.