lean, an empty heaven! soul, let thy delights forever be attracted by the refined, the sublime pleasures of our holy religion! and thou, my heart, look down with indifference upon all those fineries which worldlings so much admire!

PART IV.

HAVING thus spoken, I thought my guide, the good Veratio, led me from this to another apartment in the opposite side of the stately building; and as we entered the apartment, I heard a person with a mournful tone of voice, thus express himself: "Few and evil have been the days of the years of my pilgrimage; a few days and full of sorrow."

What is the meaning of this? said I; this is a strange kind of saying. To which he replied, "You will understand this better hereafter." When we entered the chamber, I saw a grave man of advanced years, who seemed to be in great distress both of body and mind; and thus he addressed some of his friends, who, it seems, had been endeavouring to comfort and strengthen him in the prospect of dissolution.

O my friends, you little know what a sinner I have been! let sinners of the highest rank be thought of, and I assure you I am worse than all; yea, I am the very chief of sinners, the vilest and most unworthy creature in the world, Oh! how justly doth the Lord afflict me now! he leaves me not comfortless in my last trials without dreadful provocations; such provocations as makes my very heart bleed to think of them: justly, alas! am I left to the scourge of an evil conscience, and made an instance of the terrible displeasure of an offended God! O what innumerable mercies have

my

feet;

I enjoyed at his hand! but such hath been the depravity of my nature, the sinfulness and rebellion of my life, that I have grossly abused and trampled them all under and what can I now expect, but to be forever banished from the presence of him whose goodness I have so grossly abused, and against whom I have most ungratefully sinned. I tremble to think of enduring his displeasure; but, if I must endure it, I know it is my desert, and in my condemnation I will confess him righteous; for I, only I, have destroyed myself.

Here he was stopped by excessive grief, which vented itself in a flood of tears, and one of his friends, who sat by him, thus replied: My dear friend, I am exceedingly surprised to hear you lay such heavy accusations against yourself. You charge yourself with the worst and basest of crimes, whereas all we, your friends and acquaintances, who have been witnesses of your conduct, are fully convinced, that ever since you made a profession of religion, your whole conversation hath been unblameable, and becoming true godliness.

To which the sick man replied: 0 my friend! it is that--it is that which grieves me now! Oh! how it pains me to think, that people, who could only see my outside appearance, took me to be somewhat, when, alas! my own heart all along told me that I was nothing. Even now, the discovery of the pride and hypocrisy of my heart is a burden intolerable. I would fain have been sincere, it is true, and I often thought that I strove for it; but, O wretched and miserable creature that I am! I never could attain it. Sometimes,

formerly, I flattered myself that I was one of the Lord's people; but now the disguise is taken off, and I am convinced that I have been, and still am, an enemy to all real righteousness, an utter stranger to the heart-purifying religion of the holy Jesus.

the

Oh! it grieves me to think how I have imposed upon the church of Christ, where I have been only an intruder, a vile tare growing up among Lord's wheat, a filthy goat among the innocent sheep of the Redeemer! but now it is my greatest fear that I shall be forever separated from both him and them.

Here he was again stopped by the anguish of his spirit, and, after a few minutes, another friend of his, in a spiritual manner, replied: My dear brother, this is only a temptation of the enemy;` and such, I trust, ere long you will find it to be. It hath pleased the Lord to withdraw from you for a moment, and for holy ends, to leave you to the buffetings of Satan; but, believe me, believe God himself, he will return with mercy and salvation, and with everlasting loving-kindness he will gather you. What though your sins are great, the merit of the Redeemer's sacrifice is infinitely greater; what though the cry of them reach even to the heavens, his precious atonement surmounts them all; yea, although they are of a scarlet crimson stain, the blood of Jesus, the Son of God, shall wash you, and make you white as wool, or the whiter snow. Satan is, indeed, permitted, as the accuser of the brethren, to load your conscience with heavy accusations; but, yet a very little

while, and the base accuser shall be cast down; Satan shall be trampled forever under your victorious feet.

Let my friend consider the many great and precious promises which are made to the "poor in spirit, the weary and heavy laden, the captive, the broken-hearted sinner, the hungering and thirsting soul, the mourner for sin," &c. these are the names and characters of the Redeemer's people, and all these meet together in my brother; which is to us, though not to yourself, an evident token of your adoption, by grace, into the elect family. Had he not loved you, he would never have put his own seal upon you; had he not chosen you to salvation, through the sanctification of "the Spirit, you could never thus have groaned under the depravity of your nature; and having loved you, it is with an everlasting love, a love which never can alter, but is sure to endure to the end. How can my brother sink, while the arm of everlasting love is underneath him? or perish, while the eternal God is his refuge? O my friend! think of the above characters of the redeemed, and try if you find not some of them belonging to yourself.

He ceased here, and the sick man, with a trembling voice, replied: I thank you, my dear sir, in the most grateful manner, for your tender care for my welfare; but, alas! I can see nothing in me that looks in the least like to the character of the Redeemer's people. I see no promise in the Bible that belongs to me; for a word of promise would be a comforting stay to my sinful soul, now last distress. It is true, that many times in

in

my