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occasioning the scoffs and blasphemies of the enemies of the cross. But O may almighty grace enable them to live as strangers and pilgrims in this transitory world, as those who are born from above and associates of the inhabitants of heaven. May they breathe the spirit of the gospel in their every action, and may their future deportment shine eminently with all the beauties of holiness, and excellencics of Christianity, that others may have reason to say, surely the Lord is with them of a truth. O that they may manifest the power of religion in these lukewarm days, love and seek the prosperity of Zion, be blessings to the church, to society, and to the world, and when the evening of their days draws near, and death approaches to demand his prey, O may they safely and securely go down the declining vale, and land their wearied feet on Canaan's happy shores.

Eve. Yonder is the sun, shedding his last cheering beams on our western hemisphere, resigning us to the shades of night. I catch his last faint rays, as he sinks from my view, and pensively turn my eyes to the closing period of life. My morning is spent, my meridian is advancing, and long before that arrives, the darkness of death may encircle my horizon. Behold my sun has set, no more to rise on earth. Earth where art thou, with all thy boasted honours and promised joys? Vanished like a dream -buried in oblivion, as though thou never wast. Eternity, eternity, is my mighty portion, and its awful wonders press on my separating spirit. Every feeling, and every emotion of my soul, bears it weighty impress, and shall forever. Worlds unknown burst upon my view, beings new and strange salute my astonished eye, and scenes amazing enwrap me all around. Where am I? In heaven or hell? Do I greet the smiling eye of Jesus? or

do I meet the incensed wrath of an angry God? Do holy spirits welcome me to their blest abode? or do ghastly fiends conduct me to their mansions of wo?

O thou great and eternal Jehovali, I beseech thee to prepare me for the moment of death. O suffer me not to go into eternity under the guilt of one unrepented sin, nor to appear at thy judgment seat in the poor fig leaves of my own righteousness. I humbly, I devoutly, I earnestly implore thy pardoning mercy, thy forgiving love, thy reconciling smiles; that when the last moment shall arrive, I may be fitted to enter into the joy of my Lord, and to partake of the holy employments and purified delights of thy glorious habitation. O Lord be merciful to me a sinner. Kind Redeemer, be merciful to me the vilest of the vile.

May. "O that it were with me as in months past," is the mournful language of many true Christians. And why? because they have left their first love, lost the ardour of their spiritual exercises, and contracted a worldly minded, lukewarm spirit. Settled upon their lees, and immersed in the cares and pleasures of earth, they enjoy no happifying intercourse with God, no transcendent glories from the blissful mount of vision, no fervent zeal for the honour of their Maker, and the benefit of those souls he died to redeem. If the duties of the closet are not entirely omitted, they are but very unfrequently and coldly performed, as though they regretted the transient moments thus employed, and were glad when they were gone. Instead of communications from the divine Spirit, and heart-cheering visits of love from Immanuel, which once made their closets Bethels, they now hardly breathe a desire or raise a petition to the eternal Jehovah, but mechanically and formally hurry over a duty, in which

every power of their souls ought to be engaged. They go with others to the house of prayer, to keep holy day; but while sitting beneath the droppings of the sanctuary, and hearing the most sublime and impressive truths delivered with the most animated pathos, their thoughts are wandering to the ends of the earth, or culling fairy visions. No wonder they return empty and unedified; while those who are hungry for the bread of life, have been fed and nourished with manna from on high. The Sabbath, once grateful and refreshing to their souls, is now spent in indolence and coldness; and they rejoice when its wearisome hours are terminated. Travelling still the wayward path, they continue to relax from their former strictness; and verge from one devious step to another, till they exhibit little or nothing of the power of godliness, and the heavenly nature of religion. Behold them in a convivial party, and you witness conformity to the world, satisfac tion in vain conversation, and a compliant, temporising, spirit, forbidden by the gospel, and by no means characteristic of strangers and pilgrims here. Surely worldlings might well inquire, "What do ye more than others?" Thus Christ is crucified in the house of his professed friends, and his ways and truths evil spoken of, his heaven-born religion is loaded with ridicule and contumely of his enemies; and a stumbling block is thrown in the way of many sincere souls. Alas! for the lukewarm, backslidden believer; how unbecoming and inconsistent his deportment; how cheerless and lamentable his condition. Who knows how far down the declivity of vice he would slide, if abused mercy and infinite grace did not intercept his career, and turn his erring feet again to the way of holiness and path of peace Touched with the Borrows of deep compunction, he mourns over his past

folly and criminality, and abasing himself before the mercy-seat of his compassionate Father, reiterates with the publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner." He engages in the divine life with new fervour and strength, with a heart-felt sense of his own liability to err and go astray, and humble dependence on the rock that is higher than he. His character now appears with an amiable lustre, adorned with all the graces of the gospel.

EXTRACTS OF A LETTER TO MISS C. T. OF BEVERLY.

Beverly, May 11, 1814.

MY DEARLY BELOVED CLARISSA,

PAINFUL as my feelings are with regard to letterwriting, I have this moment come to a resolution, that I will again make the feeble attempt; and O may it be from love to God, and with a view to that day, when Clara and Fanny must stand at the bar of their Judge, and render an account how they have written, and how they have received. Do we realize the unutterable realities of that tremendous day? O day of dread decision and despair! Hark! the trumpet sounds, and penetrating the receptacles of the dead, calls the sleeping na tions to shake off the dust of the grave, and assemble in one vast and mighty concourse, to give up their accounts, and receive their ineffable eternal rewards! Behold them collected! and according to the characters they had formed here on earth, fixed on the right or the left hand of Jehovah, their actions, their words, their thoughts, unveiled to the view of countless millions, and brought to the test of the sure oracles of truth. Where now are the deeds of darkness, perpetrated unobserved by mortal eye? Brought to light and stamped with immortal in

famy? Where the flimsy covering of the hypocrite? Gone forever; and his soul, naked and forlorn, finds to his overwhelming wretchedness, that crying, Lord, Lord, will never gain an entrance into the kingdom of heaven. The impenitent on the left hand wait in dread dismay, to hear the awful sentence," Depart, ye cursed." But there on the right stand the glorious company of the redeemed, shining in the immaculate glories of their adorable Redeemer, greeting the heaven-beaming smiles of their Judge; while their works of faith, and labonrs of love, are brought into view as evidences of their acceptance with heaven, and, " Come ye blessed of my Fa ther," salutes their ravished souls.

O the surprising realities, the astonishing wonders, which the last great day will reveal! O the mighty bliss or woe it will pour upon every soul! Its decisions will be firm as the throne of omnipotence, and lasting. as the existence of the immortal mind. Could we constantly live under deep and realizing apprehensions of a judgment to come, would not our general deportment be widely different? We should indeed do with our might whatsoever our hands find to do; and in constant watchfulness against sin and temptation, should be habitually looking unto Jesus for pardon, peace, and assisting grace, making mention of his righteousness, and of his only. O how earnest, how importunate would be our supplications to heaven for our own souls, and the souls of others! Feeling that we are praying for no less than the eternal salvation of immortal souls, O with what fervour, with what animation, with what assiduity, should we address the mercy-seat, and send the breathings of our hearts to Jehovah's ear! Never, never would our closets witness the strange averseness, wanderings, and languor,

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