heard his prayer, and a book of remembrance had been kept, both of his fidelity and his sorrows.—~ And angels were prepared to bring him hence to the glory decreed to him from the foundations of the world. How vast the transition, in a moment, from the pains of a dying body, to a habitation not made with hands eternal in the heavens, to a crown of righteousness, to a weight of glory, to a place and seat near the throne of God to join in his praise forever! Transported in a moment from being a beggar in this world, to eat of the bread and drink of the water of life forever, and be a coheir together with Jesus Christ, of the fullness of God through all eternity! Removed from begging crumbs under the table of luxury and at the proud, unfeeling gate of affluence and power, to set in judgment on those who are unholy, great and rich and influential in this world of sin. For, saith the apostle," do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world."

Having noticed the difference of condition in these persons sep

Lazarus, and think him an outcast from his Maker's favor. But how falsely they judged! They saw not with the eye of Omnisciencenor had they read the book of divine counsels, which is every day opening by the events of his government! They had not looked into eternity, nor heard the groans or praises of that state! They had never counted the cost of a sinful life, nor considered the glories that await humble and persevering piety, through the goodness of God. In the fates of the rich man and Lazarus, let us see the truth.-How strangely changed! the man, who had power and influence, in a prison of eternal darkness; and the beggar on a throne of glory! The man of wealth begging in vain for a drop of water; while the poor saint was drinking at rivers of pleasures forever! The sensualist eternally tormented; the pious soul embosomed forever in the sight and enjoyment of God! And it was death which made all this change. How solemn! how interesting the moment of departure!

death; let us now compare them, and judge whose character and state was most desirable. We know that the rich man shone in the eyes of the world, and that multitudes envied his state-many courted his favor, and said in their hearts, O that we could be like Dives? The same persons would naturally shun the groans of pained

MISS X.

The subject of the following narrative is in her long home; and, we may well believe, in glory.

This person was in low circumstances, and went abroad to work, in different families. So poor had been her advantages, that she was never learned to read. Repeatedly I had taken occasion to speak

to her, relative to her spiritual concerns. But I found her ignorant and unconcerned.

One day at meeting, I perceived this girl was in tears, and appeared very attentive. The same appearance was afterward repeated, and continued. I conversed with her, to learn the reason of her trouble. She informed, that death stared her in the face. She saw she must die; and the event seemed near and dreadful.

I could not perceive any real conviction of sin. I endeavoured to give her instruction.

She became a constant attendant on all religious meetings; and was generally in tears while attending. Her views of death continued; and she was more and more affected with the subject.

After a while, I perceived she had a degree of conviction of sin. She spake of being a sinner; and was afraid to appear before God in judgment. She continued thus, some months, with her conviction of sin increasing. She became greatly troubled, as being a great sinner. Her convictions gradual ly became clear and rational.

On a sabbath day, her distress had become extreme. At a conference, held just before night, at a private house, I conversed with her, and found her convictions deep and most pungent. She had a great sense of the Majesty of God, and of the wickedness of her own heart.

Returning home, with several in company, I conversed with her.

Among many striking things, she said, O Mr. S. you have often preached to us on the depravity of the human heart, and told us how we all by nature hated God! I did not believe a word of it. But O, you did not tell the tenth part of the enmity I now feel! Her expressions of her views and feelings were extraordinary, and very affecting. She cried aloud, wrung her hands, and passed swiftly on before us.

The next morning I went to see her. She came down from her chamber. I asked how she felt now? She spake of her being a poor vile creature; but went immediately on, to express a new source of troubles. She said, she had been thinking and looking abroad that morning, and she saw God in every thing. And every thing was praising him, but she, and other miserable sinners! The birds praised him, the trees, and the grass, every thing spake God's glory. But she, a wretch, never praised him. She expressed much grief and astonishment at herself for her never having praised so great and good a Being, when his glory was so manifest.

I was informed, that she had been out abroad, that morning, to speak to her mates as they passed by. She would even lay hold of them, and tell them what a great, and good being God was; and how she longed that they might praise him, if she did not.

I found she had not the least idea of any saving change, as hay

ing been wrought in her heart. And did not suggest to her any idea that I thought her heart was renewed. I endeavored to give her such instructions as I thought best; and retired. She thought upon what had been said, and felt such an ardent desire to be able to praise God, that she went to converse with a very pious man, in the vicinicy, with whom she had lived, to see if he could give any further direction how she might be able to do the duty, on which her heart was so much set. He told her she must pray to God that she might be enabled to praise him. She soon after retired, and attempted to comply with his direction. While on her knees in her closet, she found her difficulties removed, and found she could praise God. Her joys were inexpressible.

So remarkable were her appearance and conversation, that even despisers of religion were struck, and acknowledged that something strange had taken place! For this person could never converse so before!

She mourned and grieved for poor perishing sinners. She longed and prayed for their salvation. As to her own salvation, it seemed much out of her sight. She said little or nothing concerning it; but was wholly engaged for the glory of God, and the salvation of sinners. A minister in conversation with her, asked her how she should feel, if after all she should be sent to misery? She replied

with the greatest readiness and simplicity, as though it was ne matter what became of her;-that she should delight in praising and adoring God, even should his glory require her destruction.

A female professor of religion had occasion to sleep one night with this young convert, and related, that she appeared in the highest strains of devotion, in the course of the night, even in her sleep. She prayed for sinners; and sung praise to God.

She joined the church; and as long as I heard of her, she adorned her profession. After this she lived at a distance from me, till her death.

DR. GILBEE'S DYING TESTIMONY.

The night before this excellent man departed, he sent for a few of his most intimate friends in the town, in order to leave with them his dying testimony. He addressed them to the following purpose: I do not think it right to quit this world without leaving behind me my dying testimony, for the comfort of my people. I charge you, therefore, to tell them from me, that the truths which I have preached to them bear me up now above the fear of death. My faith in Christ is without a cloud, and makes me happy in the prospect of death. The Gospel supports my soul; but I have to repent that I have not been more faithful and zealous for the Lord. The religion of Jesus is so consoling to me, that it suppresses all doubts

and fears.

"For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."Though my family at this time want a father's care, yet with Christ I can confidently trust my soul, my family, and my people; knowing that infinite wisdom cannot err.

"Tell my people, that I feel myself a sinner, a penitent sinner, a sinner saved by divine grace; and charge them to cleave to the Lord with full purpose of heart, and they will find the blessed effects of this in life, and the comfort of it in the prospect of death. Tell them to be rooted and grounded in the truths of that Gospel which I have declared unto them. Yes, tell them from me, their dying pastor; from one who has a regard for their immortal interests; to watch and pray much, that their spiritual enemies may not get the advantage over them. I entreat them to attend diligently on all the means of grace, waiting upon God, that they be not moved from the hope of the Gospel; and let them not be ashamed to declare to the world that they are on the Lord's side. Let them act a faithful part, that they may in their last moments say, from heartfelt experience, "Lord, now let test thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

"Tell those of them who have some thoughts of religion, not to put off such concerns to a future time, but to be in earnest now; for time fleeth fast away, and

death is at their door. O bid them from me not to trifle with their precious time, but to seek Christ with their whole hearts while he may be found. The work is most important; let them no longer halt between two opinions, but be decisive, seeing their eternal salvation depends upon it.

"Tell those of my parishioners who have made light of the truths which I have preached, now to reflect and consider how many opportunities they have lost, how many sermons they have heard with indifference, how many sabbaths they have trifled away, and how much time they have squandered which can never be recalled. O tell them, that it is my earnest prayer that the death of their minister may be the life of their souls. Assure them, that I find the world to be now what it has been to me for a long time, nothing more than a shadow, a vapor, a bubble, a nothing. Tell those who have treated me and the truths which I have preached with scorn and contempt, that I now solemnly declare my firm persuasion, in the prospect of my speedy dissolution, that nothing but faith in the crucified Redeemer, and a full dependance on his mercy, can render a sinner acceptable in the sight of God."

PLEASURES OF SICKNESS.

Few have celebrated the pleasures of sickness; as I have lately experienced them, permit me to say a little on the subject. And,

1st. As we are social beings, it is pleasant to experience those manifestations of sympathy which are sure to be called into action by sickness. A man feels that he is not alone in life. He perceives himself linked with thousands of others. All their anxieties and their attentions afford him pleasure. 2dly. It is pleasant to perceive in full operation that deeper, stronger love which exists in the breasts of those nearly related to us: to behold that love in all the richness of its spontaneous action overflowing with tenderness and

care.

We regret causing anxiety, but that anxiety is, nevertheless, a source of pleasure.

3dly. It is pleasant to discover how many are the comforts calculated to alleviate how many well adapted helps there are of which we knew nothing before we wanted them :-the skill of physicians, the assiduity of nurses, the power of medicines, the multitude of little soothing ministers which wait and watch with prompt assiduity. 4thly. The sensation accompanying the experience of relief from suffering is indescribably pleasant. While all our powers are in full play we have no idea of the sweetness of health, but when pain and disease have held possession of the frame, then to feel them passing off, and vigor and ease once more returning-oh! it is delightful.A glow of gratitude fills the heart. The strong recollection of what we have just undergone makes, by contrast, every moment pleasant,

and we are as persons born to new and more exhilarating hopes.

5thly. There is great pleasure in retirement from the bustle of the world. All is quiet in the sick chamber-no scenes of business invade its silent precincts.— Even to the man who loves employ there is pleasure in occasionally escaping from turmoil; and surely he who knows the preciousness of quiet, whose rich delight it is, in the secret of his heart, to hold converse with his God, he cannot but rejoice at the opportunity of retirement. Oh! it is sweet to lie and look upward-to think of that Father who for Christ's sake has forgiven us-to implore that Spirit, which like the dew on Hermon, descends to refresh the soul-to experience the fulfilment of those promises which are as green pastures and still waters.

6thly. The idea that you are thus experiencing profit is an abundant source of pleasure. Το think that your Father has appointed your sickness because he loves you; that by it he means to draw you nearer to himself, to purify you, and prepare you to walk more stedfastly in your christian course, is most charming. And then the lifting up of the light of his countenance upon you, always great in proportion to your need-truly it is no cause of wonder that many have regretted the departure of sickness because with it departed their extraordinary consolation.-Phil. Rec.