ing of his days, the friend, the adviser, and the example of the young,-such an one does more to recommend the faith of Jesus, than volumes of writing, or the most ostentatious display of zeal and activity. His past days, and his present existence, prove that communion with God is a reality,—that religion is no delusion,--that to be spiritually minded is life, is peace, is joy unspeakable, and full of glory. His reward is not his who has tampered with the worldnot that of a mixed character-not that of indecision, but of one who can say, Through grace I have kept myself, and now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee. SOLITARY J. W. HOURS. (Continued from Vol. VII. col. 1106.) No. VII-On Death. in the conduct of that man, who, almost every day, hears of the dissolution of individuals whom he numbered among his acquaintances, and yet continues as indifferent about death, as if he had a peculiar revelation from heaven, assuring him that he was immortal. Nay, it too frequently occurs, that human beings can engage with all imaginable indifference, in making the minutest arrangements regarding the intended funeral of some deceased friend; and convey the fragments of mortality to the silence of the grave, without ever recollecting that they must soon accompany them thither. We cannot account for this direful infatuation, on any other principle than that of the blinding influence of sin, which either leads men to forget that they are mortal, or obstructs their moral perception of those infinitely momentous circumstances associated with the article of death. Could men be brought to an habi “Live then, while heaven in pity lends thee tual sense of their approaching disso life, And think it all too short to wash away PORTEUS. THAT the period of man's residence in this world is but of short and uncertain duration, is a doctrine of the sacred volume which is daily confirmed by actual observation. Those funerals which we so often witness passing in solemn procession through our streets, admonish us of the departure of some members of the human family; and the seeds of mortality are so thickly sown in our natures, that they will, sooner or later, bring us to the house appointed for all living. However reluctant we may be to part with those earthly objects on which our warmest affections had been centred, we cannot, by any possible means, avert the stroke which ushers us into a scene of "untried being." Stimulated by the warm attachment which friendship inspires, our friends may offer up to the Author and Preserver of our existence, many a heartfelt prayer for a prolongation of our lives; and we ourselves, shrinking at the idea of separation, may join in the petition; but 'tis all in vain; the decree hath been pronounced-and it cannot be reversed-"It is appointed unto all men once to die." There is something passing strange 85.-VOL. VIII. lution, they would necessarily begin to make that preparation for the solemn event, by which alone they can undergo it with joyful and triumphant feelings. If, instead of banishing from their minds the contemplation of their latter end, they would make it the theme of their constant meditation, we should not behold so prevailing a torrent of iniquity in the world ;—nor would our minds be so frequently made to shudder at the terrific representations of the death-bed experiences of expiring sinners. To awaken the mind from this state of torpor, let us first direct its attention to the importance of death; and secondly, to our utter uncertainty regarding the time at which it will take place with respect to ourselves. We are accustomed to invest with great importance, any of those circumstances which are calculated materially to affect our happiness or misery in this state of existence; and if the event of bodily dissolution does seal our everlasting happiness, or eternal misery,-as is readily allowed by all,— it must unquestionably be an event of the very greatest importance. Were death, as some of the French philosophers have asserted, and some of our British philosophers believed, 66 an eternal sleep;" or were it possible that, in the intermediate state betwixt death and the general judgment, we D could work out that salvation which in this world we had totally neglected, then we might justly regard the subject as of comparatively little moment, and be excused for delaying the consideration of it during the whole of our lives. But being convinced in our minds, that this is not the case,-being assured, by the concurrent testimony of reason and revelation, that our souls are in their very nature immortal, and that they must exist either in the felicity of heaven, or take up their eternal abode in those regions of unutterable wo; when, I say, we are assured of this, and are farther convinced that on the manner in which we expire, depends this everlasting happiness or eternal misery,-death is, undoubtedly, of all other subjects, the most important, and presents the most paramount claims to our serious consideration. Death is of the utmost importance, in what light soever we view it. Are we among the happy number whose names are registered in the Lamb's book of life,-death will then derive its importance from being the final termination of all those trials, and sorrows, and sufferings, to which we have been subjected while here; and the glorious commencement of the full fruition of all those hopes we had formed, and fondly cherished, of happiness in the world to come. either on himself or on those around "A death-bed 's a detector of the heart. Here real and apparent are the same." The event of death is of the greatest importance to the openly profane. The man who has never bestowed one single serious thought on the condition of his soul, or the momentous concerns of eternity;-who has been plunged, during the whole of his life, in the vortex of folly, dissipation, and iniquity; whose affections have been concentrated in worldly pursuits and sensual indulgences;-such a man will find the event of death to be important indeed, for it will blast for ever the imaginary happiness he had enjoyed, and open the flood-gates of that consummate misery he has secured for himself through eternity. But if there are any who regard the disunion betwixt soul and body as a matter of no moment, let them visit the chambers of death, and while they behold the last struggles of expiring nature, let them ask the dying individual (it matters not whether he be saint or sinner) what are his sentiments regarding death? and he will immediately reply, that it is an event of the very greatest importance. But the event of death will be replete with importance to those who have never experienced the influence of vital religion on their hearts. It is painful to think, that the far greater portion of mankind is of this descrip- Should they refuse to yield implicit tion; and they may, with the greatest credence to his solemn assertion, which propriety, be arranged into two classes. surely, at so critical a moment, merits The first consists of those who are their cordial belief, let them attend to denominated religious hypocrites; and his dying exercises, and in them they the second, of the openly profane. will see the same truth fully estaThere are thousands in the world who blished. If he be a saint, they will make so great pretensions to religious see the importance of death in those feelings and experiences, (and they immediate prospects of eternal bliss may perhaps sustain their profession which its near occurrence affords him, so untarnished in the eyes of the world, clearly to be understood, not merely and even of the genuine disciples of from the expressions of his lips, but Jesus,) that their experimental ac- also from that joy which they infuse quaintance with regenerating grace into his soul, and which enlivens his has never been doubted. But when countenance. If he be an unpardoned the approaches of death begin to be sinner, the same truth will be demonobserved, the mask of hypocrisy is strated from his death-bed exercises. immediately thrown aside, and the Spectators will not merely learn the individual appears in his true charac-awful forebodings which torment his ter, and in all his native deformity. soul from the horrific exclamations He can no longer practise deception, which proceed from his mouth; but Of them it may They see the light, and turn their eyes aside they will likewise see them depicted | lent in the world. in his countenance. Already he thinks be said,— he sees the Judge enthroned, and hears him pronouncing the sentence which From our dim regions to th' eternal Sun.” seals his eternal misery. Already he thinks he bears the dolorous shrieks Happy infants! What innumerable of those wretched beings with whom disappointments!-what pungent pains! be must take up his eternal abode. what overwhelming sorrows! do you And already he thinks he smarts under avoid, by your early translation into the lash, and beholds the terrific vis- another and better world! ages, of those malignant fiends, whose sole occupation shall consist in tormenting him for ever. In one word, the impenitent sinner is, in the prospect of death, the subject of unspeakable misery. And if, on the event of death, such happiness or misery depends, is it not of infinite importance, and worthy of our habitual contemplation? But we hasten to consider the uncertainty of death. That we must die, and that the day of our death cannot be far distant, are facts of which we are as firmly convinced as we are of our own existence; but of the precise period when our dissolution shall take place, we know nothing more than we do of the day of judgment. Were we to ransack the invaluable contents of inspired truth, in search of the period of our translation from this to another world, we should be compelled to close the precious volume in disappointment, and arise from the exercise as ignorant, on that subject, as when we sat down. Or, were we to appeal to reason on the subject,-it can furnish us with no data by which to conjecture with any degree of probability, much less to arrive at any certain conclusion, with regard to the time of our death; for should we presume to measure the term of our existence in this world by the life of any given individual who had reached a certain age, our reason, debilitated as it is, would admonish us of our folly, by calling up to our recollection, the vast numbers we have seen making their exit out of the world at every age,-from the infant in its mother's arms, to the infirm and decrepit man, over whose head had passed the period of fourscore years. How many thousands of innocent little babes make their entrance into, and their exit out of, this mortal state, at almost one and the same moment; indicating to all around, by their cries and suffering, that they too feel the misery which is so preva How many again do we every day behold, who, after having survived the years of infancy and childhood,-when in the full prime and vigour of youth,— full of life and gaiety of spirits ;-how many, I say, of this description, do we behold snatched away from our sight and our society, and entombed in an early grave! Matilda was young, and beautiful, and accomplished. She was the life and soul of the social party. Her company was anxiously courted by all who had ever enjoyed the pleasures of her conversation. She delighted in nothing but frequenting the theatre and ball-room, and every other place of fashionable resort ;--and it engrossed the whole of her thoughts by day and by night, how she might, when there, display her personal and intellectual charms to the greatest advantage. She looked forward to a long continuance of such scenes of gaiety and amusement, and anticipated great pleasure from them. But, ah! while returning one evening from the theatre, she met with a disaster, or rather a dispensation of Providence, which, in a few hours, terminated her earthly existence. If we proceed a step further, what numbers crowd on our sight, bending beneath a load of years,—sinking under the pressure of those accumulated infirmities which are inseparable from old age,-tottering on the brink of the grave, and at last falling into it! Christopher was a man who had seen the many interesting events, and marvellous improvements which had taken place during the space of fourscore annual revolutions of the world. He was still as intently concerned about the affairs of this life, as if he had been certain of yet surviving another century- and indeed, like most other men who have reached his advanced age-he promised himself the enjoyment of a few years more. He went out one morning to take his accustomed walk, was suddenly taken ill, and in a few days after breathed | accomplishments and powerful talents bis last. "Man oft computes that age he cannot reach, Thus the event of death happeneth to were on the eve of procuring for himself a lasting reputation, and of advancing the interests of society, arrested by the hand of death, and enshrined in the bosom of the earth, We have heard of the man, who, during his residence in a foreign sultry clime, had accumulated an immense fortune, laid low in the dust of death, while actively engaged in making the necessary arrangements for returning to his native country, with a view of Nor does the tyrant death know any enjoying the fruits of his early industry distinctions. The high, the low, the and economy. We have heard of the rich, the poor, the learned, and the most illustrious philosophers that have illiterate, are promiscuously chosen ever appeared on our globe, who, after at his time, not their's, as his unavoid- having made the most valuable disable victims. The pomp and splen- coveries, have been summoned to dour of an earthly palace form no another world, just when about to more security against the approach of receive the admiration and gratitude death, to the illustrious personages of mankind. We have heard of the who inhabit it, than the unadorned demise of the profound and sagacious walls of the secluded cottage do, to statesman, while his soul was intently the humble inmates who inhabit them. bent on the execution of some politiNor need the learned philosopher cal measure, which, had it been accom→ value himself on account of his exten-plished, might have transmitted his sive literary acquisitions; for he is every moment as much exposed to the stroke of death, as the unlettered peasant, who is entirely unacquainted with the rudiments of the most common branches of education. The arrows of death are every moment flying so thickly around us, that we cannot tell but we may be their next victim. Where is the man, among the vast multitudes of the human race, who can assure himself when he goes out on a journey, however short, that he shall live to return? or, when he arises in the morning, that he shall ever again lie down in the evening? or, when he lies down in the evening, that he shall ever again arise in the morning? The writer of this article cannot tell but these may be the last observations he shall ever commit to writing; nor canst thou, reader, be certain whether they may not be the last thou wilt ever peruse. But in considering the uncertainty of death, we might pursue another train of thought.-We have seen the student, who, for a series of years, has pursued his researches with such ardent and unremitting intensity, as to deny himself the ordinary recreation of life, or that cessation from labour which is indispensably necessary for recruiting exhausted nature;--we have seen such a man, when his great name to the latest ages, and have conferred incalculable advantages on generations yet unborn.-We have heard of the most renowned warriors, which any age or country has produced, having been seized by the unyielding hand of death, after achieving a series of mighty victories, and effecting the conquests of kingdoms,-from which they had foolishly anticipated a long life of unbounded glory and aggrandizement. But not to pursue this train of thought to an unjustifiable length, let it be remarked, that the uncertainty of death must forcibly occur to every mind, if we consider the number and variety of causes by which it is produced. Some are ushered into the eternal world when they were little prepared to expect it;-by a fall from a horse-by the accidental discharge of a musket-by drowning, either when bathing or sailing for pleasure, and by a thousand other means, in addition to those internal causes by which it is most generally accomplished. And we have known many instances of mortality, by some of those circumstances which are usually considered of the most trivial nature; such as the swallowing a fly-the digesting of food-or the extraction of a hair from any part of the body. The causes of death are indeed so numerous and diversified, that we may the following Query, proposed in the well exclaim with the poet : "Ah! in what perils is vain life engag'd; Imperial Magazine, vol. 11. col. 845; which seems to have a different bear What slight neglects, what trivial faults, destroying from the other questions usually The hardiest frame! Of indolence, of toil, So that, instead of considering death We have thus very shortly considered the importance and uncertainty of death; and from these truths it follows, as a natural consequence, that the awful event is entitled to our serious and habitual contemplation. It is only by a frequent contemplation of our coming change, that our minds can be induced to prepare for it. So long as we forget that we are mortal, our minds will be necessarily engrossed with the perishable things of this present state, and we shall proceed on the journey of life quite indifferent about the event of death, until the sure presages of its near occurrence arouse us from our spiritual lethargy, and then--O solemn thought! -it will perhaps be too late. "It comprised under this subject. Who the Rev. Mr. Kennedy was, to whom the inquirer alludes, I do not know; with his writings I am wholly unacquainted; but we have something similar in the Jewish Antiquities, by Jennings, from which I derive the following quotation. ३ "It is a very probable conjecture, that the day which the heathen in general consecrated to the worship and honour of their chief god, the sun, which, according to our computation, was the first day of the week, was the ancient paradisaical Sabbath. What but the tradition of a divine institu tion should induce them to consecrate that day to their principal deity, and to esteem it more sacred than any other? The reason, perhaps, for God's changing the day, might be to take off the Israelites more effectually from The writer would, therefore, seri- concurring with the Gentiles in their ously urge on all whose eyes may idolatrous worship of the sun. For witness these observations, to make the same reason as the Heathens began the article of death the subject of their their Sabbaths and other days from daily meditation; and they will find the sun-rising, the Israelites are inthe contemplation of so important a duced to begin their Sabbaths from subject, the greatest stimulus to a holy the sun-setting; 'from evening to life. They will experience its power- evening shall ye celebrate your Sabful influence in dispelling those awful bath.' As the worshippers of the sun terrors, with which their alarmed and adored towards the east, the point of foreboding consciences had arrayed it; the sun's rising, God ordered the most and will be enabled to resign them- holy place, in which were the symbols selves to its occurrence,—saying, in of his presence in the tabernacle and the language of their heavenly Master, temple, and towards which the people "Not my will, O God, but thine be were to worship, to be placed to the done." west. It is objected, that the paradisaical Sabbath was appointed to be kept on the seventh day; and so, in the fourth commandment, was the Jewish; and they are supposed, there fore, to have been kept on the same day. But this consequence will not follow from the premises. It is by no means certain that the seventh day of the Jewish week coincided with the seventh of the paradisaical. For upon their migration out of Egypt, God appointed the Israelites a quite new computation of Elgin. J. G. OBSERVATIONS ON THE JEWISH AND CHRISTIAN SABBATH-DAYS. (In Answer to a Query.) VARIOUS questions relative to the obligations and duties of the Lord's day, or Sabbath, have at different periods agitated the Christian world; but that which it is my intention to make the subject of observation, is contained in |