Isaac Newton, have mercy on me!" Why this changing of gods in a dying hour? And it is a remarkable fact, if an infidel have a wife who is a Christian, he is very willing in case of her death, to have the minister attending her funeral, to say, "My friends, here we have a daughter of Zion shrouded and prepared for the burying. You all knew her very well. She was a Christian, she lived the life of the Christian; she died the Christian's death, and is gone to the Christian's rest, the pilgrim's home." But, suppose this wife of his had been as thorough going an infidel as himself, and the minister, at her funeral, should say, "My friends, here is one before us, shrouded and prepared for the burying. You all knew her well. She was a thorough going infidel. She lived the life of an infidel, died his death, and is gone to his place!" Would this please him? Nay, verily, for there are certain seasons when the mind will be sober, and the voice of truth will be heard! You have heard, no doubt, of many an infidel on a dying bed, wishing that he was a good Christian; but did you ever hear of a single Christian on a dying bed, wishing that he was a good infidel? No! never! never! never! The case is clear. "Their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges." Well, my brethren, we must all die. We all wish to die happy-certainly, at least, on the safe side.

Now let it be remembered, that whilst the bed of death is most generally a terrible place for the infidel, "the chamber where the Christian meets his fate, is privileged beyond the common walks of virtuous life, quite on the verge of heaven." Here, we will suppose, is a dormitory on the right, where Christians are breathing their last. Here, on the left, is another dormitory, in which infidels are giving up the ghost. Let us visit, first, the dormitory upon the right. Who is that who is just expiring? It is the very pious Halyburton. How serene! how calm! But, he is going to speak. Hark! let us catch some of his last words. "It is no easy thing to be a Christian," says he, "but, by the grace of God, I have got the victory! Now, I know, I feel, I believe! I rejoice! I feed on manna! I have angel's food! Mine eyes shall see my Redeemer! O the glory! the unspeakable glory! My heart is full! my heart is full!"

Of the good man, is peace! How calm his exit!
Night dews fall not more gently to the ground;
Nor weary, worn out winds expire so soft!"

"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!" Now, let us pass over to the dormitory on the left. Who is that just expiring? It is the wretched Altamont; (a fictitious name, but descriptive of a real case.) O how distorted are his features! and

how full of agony does he seem to be! The clock strikes, and he exclaims, "O time! time! it is fit that thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart! How art thou fled for ever! A month! a day! I ask not for years, though an age were too little to fit me for the work which I have to do!" Another groan, and he cries out in anguish unutterable; "My principles have poisoned my friend! my extravagance has beggared my boy! my unkindness has murdered my wife! And is there another hell? O thou blasphemed, yet indulgent Lord God! hell itself is a refuge if it hide me from thy frown!" Here we have even on earth, the first notes of the wailings of the damned in the world to come! Tell me not of the peaceful death of David Hume. His nurse has told some tales of horror! but let that pass. How did he die, as the most favorable account represents? He died playing at cards, and jesting about Charon and his boat! Does it become the dignity of man, or the solemnity of the hour of dissolution, in any case, to leave the world in this way? Believe me, it was only a desperate effort to bar serious thought-like the school-boy, passing through the grave yard at night, with satchel in his hand,

"Whistling aloud to bear his courage up."

Thank God, the Christian has no occasion for any artificial excitement of this kind, for, to

him, "to die is gain." Do you demand further proof? Let us make another visit to the dormitory on the right. How pleasant is every thing around this hallowed spot! Who is that just sinking in the arms of death? It is Edward Payson. O how happy he looks! But he is going to speak; what is his language? "I am going to Mount Zion," says he, “I am going to the city of the living God! the heavenly Jerusalem! to an innumerable company of angels! to the general assembly and church of the first born, whose names are written in heaven. I swim in a river of pleasure! I swim in a flood of glory!" And who is that in the next chamber, who is bidding his friends a final adieu? It is William C. Walton, the associate of my college days; and what are his dying words? They are very beautiful and very sweet. "The sting of death is gone," says he, "the grave is disrobed of its terrors! Peace like a river flows into my soul! I am now in the Jordan of death, and, blessed be God, its waters do not cover me! I shall see Jesus! See JESUS! what a thought that is! O glorious Saviour!" Surely, my brethren, the curtains of light and glory are hung around this dormitory; but around the dormitory on the left, the curtains of gloom and despair! Over this waves the white banner of the Prince of Peace! Over that the black banner of Apollyon! Here, are choirs of angels waiting to

sing the pilgrim to his rest. There, ministers of vengeance, ready to hurry the guilty soul of the dying sinner, reluctantly, O how reluctantly, before thy throne, thrice holy God! And now, my dear friends, one and all, remember, we must die: we cannot help it; and remember, after death comes the judgment! and once lost, lost for ever! When Death's leaden sceptre is laid upon our cold bosoms, no mistakes can be rectified any more; for, so soon as the breath leaves the body, the decree of an immutable God rolls over the shrouded form: "He that is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he that is holy, let him be holy still." In which dormitory would you rather die? Immortal man! take care! great interests are at stake-see to it, that you be upon the safe side; for, I repeat it, once lost, you are lost for ever!