ingly actuated to retard this gloomy event. Hence that unremitted care of the soul, to pre serve its companion in beauty, in health, in vigour, that tender anxious concern, when it is likely to fall into decay, that pain when it suffers, and that joy when it recovers and revives. Hence, on the other hand, that assiduous tendency of all the bodily senses to procure, and convey plea. sure to the soul, and that languor or disquiet which takes possession of it, according as the soul is depressed or violently agitated, so that there is between them a perpetual strife of mutual affection, each aiming at conveying delight. Death then is the dissolution of this union, in conséquence of which, the spiritual and corporeal parts of man are wholly disjoined, and indeed very differently disposed of; "the body returns to the " dust from which it came, and the spirit to God "who gave it." The former consideration how humbling, the latter how awful, Those bodies, which we now take so much pains in adorning, cherishing, pampering, will ere long be stretched out pale, ghastly, and loathsome; a clod of common earth, a morsel for the crawling worm-the ceremonies subsequent to death are in their nature awful, and the sight of a funeral is ready to strike a damp into the mind. He must be very insensible who can, unmoved, behold a fellow creature, one who but the other day was engaged

in the same pursuits and views with himself, and who perhaps had as fair prospects of long life and happiness, carried out to his long home, cut off in the midst of his schemes and projects, his hopes blasted, and his designs reduced to nothing. When nature calls upon us to perform the last sad duties to our own departed relations, our feelings must be still more lively and pungent; and if a beloved friend, in whom our soul delighted, claims our sorrow-if affection, as well as duty and humanity, represents death to us as the final separation between us, and what we love as our own souls, we must be still more deeply concerned; but how much more lively must be our emotions, how much more affecting the scene, when we bring the case home to ourselves, when we view ourselves as parties in all the sad solemnities of death, by such reflections as these: "Yet a little while, and these eyes which

now behold the sun and the moon, and the "heavens in all their glory, which now are delighted with the various beauties which shine "in the face of nature, shall be closed in the "darkness and shadow of death; this heart shall

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ere long cease to move, these hands and arms "shall forget their functions, and all the powers "and faculties of this body be reduced to a ❝ state of inaction; then shall I sleep with the "clods of the valley, and the worms shall feed

"sweetly upon me, the grave shall shut her "mouth upon me, and I shall be as if I had ne"ver been."

Secondly, death is a removal from this world, with all its businesses, pleasures, and troubles. Our existence in the world necessarily leads us to be engaged in a variety of employments, and to form a variety of connections and relations; by means of these, as being the constituents of our happiness, we contract a very ardent affection. for this life and the things thereof, insomuch that a separation from them becomes as great a shock to nature as that which separates the soul from the body. For a proof of this, let the appeal to the experience of every human being. Is there any one now hearing me who does not acknowledge the tender name of parent or child, husband or wife, brother or friend? is there any one insensible to the calls of nature or affection? It is hardly possible--we are all united together as with bands of iron and brass, we are tied down to life by innumerable fetters, the breaking of which is painful to the uttermost, for in proportion to the degree of affection we bestow upon these, must be the pain of parting with them; this separation, however, sooner or later, must take place upon the approach of death, Lover and

friend must stand at a distance, and we must tread the dark valley alone; between us and our dearest enjoyments, the broad and dreadful gulf must be stretched out. The businesses and cares of life must then likewise cease. We are all now engaged in some certain pursuits to which all our views are directed; one is intent on making a fortune, another on raising and aggrandizing a family, a third on purchasing fame and reputa tion, while a fourth is contented to "rise up “early, and sit up late, to eat the bread of sor"row and carefulness," to earn the common necessaries of life. At death, these likewise must cease, the business of life is finished, and an eternal farewell must be taken of what is now all our study and all our desire; but as a counterbalance to this, death likewise puts an end to the trou bles of life-this state is a state of pain, and sorrow, and disappointment, one trial and distress following close upon the heels of another; no sooner are we relieved out of one misery, than another instantly comes in the place of it--but under all the ills of mortality, let us comfort ourselves in this, that they are but transitory; though the journey be painful and irksome, it cannot be lasting. Death will, ere long, bring us deliverance from all our miseries; the fury of the perse, cutor, the stings of poverty, the racking of pain,

the malice, contempt, and ill-will of the world can pursue us no farther than the grave; there "the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest; there the prisoners rest toge, "ther, they hear not the voice of the oppressor." In the

Third place, death is the commencement of an eternal state. It is this consideration that clothes death in all its awe and terror-it is not the resigning our breath, it is not the being for ever insensible, it is not the parting with life and its enjoyments, the separation from friends and relations, that denominates this period of our existence the "king of terrors;" no, it is on account of the awful change it makes in our being, on account of the awful consequences it is attended with, that it is to be dreaded. What must be the situation of the soul in that dread moment, when it is ushered into the presence of the Almighty God, now no more seen "darkly as "through a glass," but displayed in all the awful majesty of his attributes and perfections, seated on a throne of judgment, and ready to pronounce an irreversible doom which is to adjudge to eter, nal happiness or misery? As all mankind are di vided into two general classes, the righteous and the wicked, accordingly will they be disposed of