which has dazzled and tantalized the mind is removed by death! Severus, after having been raised from a humble station to the throne of the Roman empire, exclaimed, "I have been all things, and all things yield no profit." The late Lord Chesterfield was much noticed for his accomplishments, and addicted to all the flattering delights of a worldly life. “ I have," says he, "enjoyed all the pleasures of this world, and consequently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise them at their real value, which, in truth, is very low; whereas those, who have not experienced, always over-rate them. They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with the glare, but I have been behind the scenes, I look upon all that has passed as one of those romantic dreams, which opium commonly occasions, and I do by no means desire to repeat the nauseous dose for the sake of the fugitive dream." Is this all that the world gives its votaries? Is this the end of their course, who are lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God? Surely, such examples of blasted designs and expectations, ought to check men from so eagerly grasping what they cannot keep, and adding new turrets to the fabric of ambition when the foundation shakes.

But the Christian enjoys a lasting happiness, He has "durable riches, a treasure which neither rust can corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal." He possesses the honour that cometh from God, which remains unimpaired when the laurels of aspiring ambition are withered, and the dying echo of fame is heard no more. He has joys which never pall upon the taste, but continually heighten and improve. What the conscience fully allows, what the understanding for good reasons approves, and what the affections ardently embrace to the last, is bliss worthy of the name. As the believer grows in knowledge and experience, the glorious Redeemer becomes increasingly precious to him. The violent raging of the storm enhances the value of the refuge. While nature sinks, grace triumphs. The saint can testify at the hour of death, "No one good thing hath failed, of all that my God hath promised."

2. There is a striking contrast between the Christian and the unbeliever in their future conditions.

In what has been advanced, an appeal may be made to the result of experience; but in what follows, we must rely wholly on the Divine testimony. Never, while we are shut up within the walls of mortality, will the veil which bides.

the eternal world be removed, to present in full view to our astonished souls the glories of heaven and the horrors of hell. Nor are we sure, if such a thing were permitted, that the feeble powers of human nature would be able to bear the impression. But though we have no opportunity actually to survey the regions of bliss or woe before we enter them, yet every thing is not involved in absolute uncertainty, nor does the Christian at last need to use the language that a modern poet hath put into the mouth of a dying heathen

"The wide, unbounded prospect lies before me, But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it."

Faith supplies the want of sight; and Divine truth sheds rays, which discover those grand and affecting scenes that could never otherwise have been known. It is the power of faith which embodies eternal things to the eye of the mind.

1. The future condition of the Christian will be a state of perfect rest, while that of the unbeliever will be a state of ceaseless torment. 44

The first idea of heavenly bliss, suggested by the Scriptures, is a total exemption from every kind and degree of evil, both moral and natural. "There remaineth a rest for the people

of God." In the celestial land of promise all is serenity and peace. There no roots of bitterness spring up to trouble, no storms of violence blow to annoy the blessed inhabitants. The triumphant Christian has rest from all his painful conflicts with sin. There will be no sighs and tears under the powerful workings of depravity in the heart; no vain thoughts and corrupt passions to disturb his delightful tranquillity; nothing that defileth can enter into the gates of the New Jerusalem. There the believer will have rest from all his pains and toils. It was the entrance of sin which at first let into the world disease, calamity, and death. It was the dreadful decree, the penal curse of God, that overspread the earth with barrenness, and doomed man to eat his bread in the sweat of his brow. But in heaven there will be no craving, unsupplied wants, no fruitless or disappointed labours, no fainting languors, no piercing pangs, no gloomy, anxious days, or sleepless, wearisome nights. Not one of the inhabitants of that blessed world will say, "I am sick," for those that dwell there will be forgiven their iniquity. In heaven, the believer will rest from all his enemies. Ungodly men will no more shoot at him, in secret, their poisoned arrows, even bitter words; no entangling snares will be

spread by the workers of iniquity, no fires of persecution kindled by enmity and malice. There the wicked cease from troubling, there the weary are at rest. In a word, all the long train of miseries which accompany the whole course of mortal life, will be for ever excluded from those happy realms. Nor does this assertion rest on conjecture. “And I heard a voice from heaven, saying unto me, write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them,” Rev. xiv, 13.

But think of the ceaseless torments which await the unbeliever. This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. While here, the despisers of religion may lull themselves into false security, crying "Peace, peace," when there is no peace.

Oh

how will the shock of death chase away all their dreams! What rest can those find who are cast down to hell? What peace, when conscience, the never-dying worm, incessantly gnaws and devours the soul? What rest, where the fire of Divine wrath burns as a furnace, and shall not be quenched? Do we need to wonder that the