ciples, who was watching over him, I feel that I am dying; our care must be to minimize the pain. Do not let any of the servants come into the room, and keep away the youths; it will be distressing to them, and they can be of no service. Yet I must not be alone; you will remain with me, and you alone; and then we shall have reduced the pain to the least possible amount.'" The very thought of such conduct towards his family, in such circumstances, is enough to freeze the very soul. Indeed, there is nothing in either of these cases to indicate that the minds of the individuals were entirely at ease, or that they died without some awful forebodings of a dark, unknown futurity. Yet to induce such a state of mind is the very utmost that philosophy can do for its votaries in the last hour of life.

But how different from all this is the state of a christian in these solemn circumstances. He is enabled, by the power of faith in the revelations of scripture, to look beyond the gloom of the grave, to descry the glorious realities of the world beyond it, and to contemplate with calmness the state on which he is about to enter. This--and it may, perhaps, be considered to be the lowest degree of comfort enjoyed by the generality of christians in the immediate prospect of death-is a blessing which nothing but christianity can confer. It is rational and satisfying, and flows from a source which shall never fail. But this feeling, which we call comfort, may beincreased to the very highest degree of transport of which the soul is susceptible on this side the grave.

When faith and hope are strong, the emotion rises in proportion. It takes its character from the conception which is formed of the object on which faith and hope terminate, and the medium through which these objects are viewed. When they stand out in full perspective before the eye of faith and all dubiety respecting them is removed, "joy unspeakable and full of glory" arises in the mind. In some instances, indeed, the soul is so irradiated with heavenly light, and the visions of immortality are so clearly discerned, that the hope seems to be turned into full fruition while yet the spirit lingers in its house of clay. Now, although such delightful anticipations of " the glory which shall be revealed" are not always enjoyed by christians in the hour of death, the fact of their being often enjoyed abundantly proves that the hope, which those who die in the faith are warranted to cherish, is able to support them. And when they are enjoyed, the soul seems almost insensible to the struggles which, not unfrequently, accompany dissolution, and longs to ascend to that happy world, the glories of which shine so brightly upon it. All its guilty fears are for ever removed, and, with holy triumph, it exclaims, when the last enemy approaches, "O death! where is thy sting? O grave! where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law; but thanks be to God who giveth me the victory through the Lord Jesus Christ."