bed (if he bless it)—to see the vanity of even the world's best and fairest! What is poetry to the languid ear? What are pictures to the aching eye? or praise, or music, or gaiety, to the sick and sinking heart? Where is the mind itself, with all its boasted resources ?Yet when the thoughts are confused, and the fancy fevered-the judgment weakened, and the memory faithless,-even then, the words which God speaks in his gospel, are spirit and life. Just where the world leaves us, He takes us up. Look at the images under which he is

figured, and think

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whether they will apply to any other object in the universe ?-A "strong hold in the day of trouble"—a "light to them that sit in darkness”—a "refuge from the storm a "shadow from the heat"-" strength" in weakness-"wisdom" in perplexity—a "comforter" in affliction :-a sun, a shield, a fortress, a deliverer, a portion, a father, a friend, a saviour-in all a GOD! Is it not base ingratitude to forget this being, "who daily loadeth us with benefits," until he remove some of those benefits?—to put off thinking of Him who is worthy of the highest

can

powers of the highest mind, till we think of nothing to any purpose? It is not enough that to the world's blinded vision, our temper, conduct, and character, seem fair and free from blemish; God regards the heart far more than the action; his eye pierces through motives, thoughts, and desires; and estimates them solely as they have regard to himself, his glory, and his will. It is sufficient condemnation if we forget God. I give you the fourth and fifth verses of the hundred and sixth Psalm, as a daily prayer.

May the blessing of God be upon you, and may he teach you as none other can.

I leave much unsaid, but I know you read his word; and I know that if you ask him, he will give you the hearing ear, the seeing eye, and the understanding heart.

My dear friend, farewell.

LETTER VII.

MY DEAR

WE will not lose any time in preface and preliminaries, but come at once to the consideration of those points which have struck me as most important.

You will not, I hope, be disappointed, if I write to you in a less amusing, and more serious strain, than I might have done in time past; for I will not conceal from you, that my own views and feelings are, on one all-important subject, greatly changed. A bed of sickness has, I hope, been a bed of blessing; and by revealing to me the awfulness of death, has shown to me the true value of life. Allow me then, my dear with an earnestness prompted by real regard, to explain wherein I conceive its true value con

sists; and when, to the best of my ability, I have done so, you will readily draw the proper inferences for yourself.

Life, even at the longest, is short; at the happiest, is full of vexation; in its prosperity, it is transitory; at its best estate, vanity:"One generation cometh, and another goeth : "—the things we enjoy are passing, and we are passing who enjoy them. The Scriptures seem at a loss how to express its frailty with sufficient force-"a vapor that vanisheth away-a flower flourishing and fading in a day-" a handbreath "—" a watch in the night "-"a sleep when one awaketh "_" a dream"-" a sound." Yet upon this fleeting, changing life; upon that portion of its threescore years and ten allotted to us, depends eternity!-endless duration!-everlasting existence! it is the sword hanging by a single quivering hair. The heathen king was wisely reminded that he was mortal; let us, more wisely still, remember that we are immortal: not only that we are born to die, but that we die to live for And how?-Exactly in that state for which our present life has prepared us;

ever.

either in union with, or alienation from, the exhaustless source of grace, glory, and happiness- -God. Were you to ask a number of persons what was the true end of life, each would give you a different reply and unless there was a Christian present, each reply would be wrong. Riches make themselves wings; the breath that gives fame, can destroy it; pleasure is the spark that mounts upwards and expires:-in these is nothing enduring; nothing that prepares an immortal being for future immortality; nothing that arms the soul against the changes of time, and the inroads of affliction; nothing that in the end satisfies the soul. God gave this world, with all its possessions, to minister to the comfort of his creature man, but he knew that not one of them could fill the void within; and therefore, as a wise and tender friend, he says to each of us, "Give me thy heart." And it is for this heart also, that the enemy of man contends. The knee may be bent in prayer, the ear listen to religious instruction, the lips repeat scripture truth, the whole person seem occupied in religious duties—but for these he cares not; he knows that the