equally impressive-" Be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh."

But it may be said by some light-hearted child of time and folly, Would you imbitter all our days, already sad and sorrowful enough, by making us fix our thoughts constantly on the hour of our dissolution and so rendering us gloomy and melancholy men throughout the whole period of our existence? I would reply, first of all, that this is putting an extreme case, and then begging the question upon it. There is an elasticity in human nature which will not allow it to dwell upon the melancholy and gloomy side of anything so far as to interfere with present occupations and present enjoyment. The fault is altogether the other way. And it is a very great mistake to suppose, that the habitual contemplation of death, so far carried out as to issue in an habitual preparation for it, is at all calculated to make a man melancholy and gloomy. Turn to the Scriptures. Was Abraham a melancholy and gloomy man? Was Isaac a melancholy and gloomy man? Was David a melancholy and gloomy man? Was Hezekiah a melancholy and gloomy man? Was St. Paul a melancholy and gloomy man? Were any of those saints and worthies whom the Apostle enumerates in the eleventh chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrews, as men so habitually by faith regarding the future and

invisible world, that they brought themselves to live only in this as strangers and pilgrims, sojourners and wayfaring travellers, journeying to another country, “looking for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God?" No! these, none of these, were melancholy and gloomy men. The thought of death had other and more consoling and more inspiring feelings for them— and why? Simply because they were prepared for it-they anticipated it, not as the end, but as the beginning of their real enjoyments, not as the close of time, but as the commencement of eternity, not as the annihilation of life, but as the avenue to God. But there are, it must be confessed, those whom the thought of death does make melancholy and gloomy, And I will tell you who they are: they are the men who have long wrestled with conscience, but have not been able quite to subdue it-the men upon whom, in spite of themselves, it will at times return with fearful twinges and convulsive spasms. It is not strong enough to convert them from their evil ways, but it is strong enough to render their evil ways no ways of pleasantness, no paths of peace to them. It is powerful enough, by forcing the thought of death upon them, to fill them with terror and alarm in the very midst of their unhallowed pleasures, to draw forth before their eyes the hand-writing upon the wall, and to

make them feel like criminals going to execution, instead of like Christians prepared to meet their Saviour-God. These are the men whom death makes melancholy and gloomy-and no wonderfor to them death brings no pleasant thoughts, no inspiring hopes, no glad anticipations,-it is to them no gate to heaven. They know that "after death comes judgment;" and to the sinner the thought of judgment must be, indeed, alarming, must be, indeed, horrible.

But, finally, let not the warning which we have received be lost on you-"Be ye also ready." Do you ask, in what a due preparation for eternity consists? God's Bible is in your hands, and from its blessed pages you may draw the lesson. Your Lord says to you, "Watch and pray." Remember that rule-it is a golden maxim-treasure it in your hearts-love it and live by it. Study the Holy Scriptures constantly and habitually-and pray that the Spirit of Grace, without whom you are nothing and can do nothing, will bless the study to the enlightening of your minds and the good of your immortal souls. Observe the Lord's day to keep it holy-and pray to the same Spirit that your visits to God's house may not be mere idle visits of form and ceremony, but the real homage of a Christian heart paid with Christian feelings to the Lord of the Sabbath who has commanded it to be a day consecrated to

His service. Be constant in your attendance at the Communion of the Lord's Supper-and pray that you may be spiritually, as well as formally, partakers of it-that you may feel all the love of Him whom it commemorates, all the value of the sacrifice which He offered, and all the impossibility of obtaining salvation through any other name but that of the kind and compassionate Jesus, whom you there approach in compliance with His own gracious wish and invitation. But you must "watch" as well as "pray." You must, therefore, pray that you may watch. You must recollect, as you pass through life, that you are as soldiers on a field of battle whose companions fall on every side of them, and none can tell but that, the next moment, he himself may bite the dust. Your thoughts must dwell upon the impartiality of death-upon the no respect of persons which marks its assaults upon mankind. If it carries off the peasant, it takes away the prince also if it calls the inhabitant of the cottage to his last account, it gives the same summons to the man of ceiled roofs and lofty palaces-it has the coffin and the grave for the rich and the poor, the high and the lowly, the great and the little, the clever and the ignorant, the warlike and the peaceful, the fortunate and the unfortunate, the honoured and the dishonoured-yea, all these alike pay the penalty of mortality, mingle their dust, and lie in

their tombs side by side together, equal in death, although far apart while life endured. And will not such thoughts and such recollections, quickened by God's grace, keep you ever on the watch? Will they not quench the fires of pride and passion, chill the flames of ambition, relax the grasp of covetousness, abate selfishness, palsy vanity, and put to shame all deceitful trust in the broken reeds of worldly hopes, desires, and confidence?

One other word, as I conclude-one other rule for your observance. Henceforth, in the distribution of your time, lay down a method-and keep to it inviolably-by which a certain portion of every day shall be devoted to self-examination and selfcommuning. Without this to enforce them all, the study of the Scriptures, the observance of the Sabbath, the attendance at the Lord's Supper, will be in vain-they will be limited to the form, they will not embrace the power, of Godliness. Without this, such awful and striking warnings as that which we have just received, however they may, at the moment, excite the thrill of a nerve or a throb of the heart, will produce no lasting and due impression. Each day should be scrutinized before the eyelids are closed in sleep, that, self-accused, the prodigal may learn how far he has wandered from his Saviour-God, and hasten on his return to Him. Brethren, adopt this rule, and, as I said before,