PREFACE.

THE favourable reception which DEATH, a Vision, has met with by the more pious and thoughtful; and the frequent accounts I have had of its usefulness, especially to the weary and heavy-laden Christian, have induced me to endeavour to make it, as much as possible, still more acceptable, and to print it in a more suitable form for a family book, or pocket companion, as well as greatly to enlarge upon several circumstances therein related.

The subject is of the highest importance.-Death casts the die, and unalterably fixes, forever fixes, our existence, either in a state of the purest holiness and consummate felicity, or in the blackest horrour and most aggravated torments, in the howling regions of infamy and despair. It is of universal concern; all are equally interested in it; for all must die." This point admits of no controversy; nor can any man appeal from the awful decision. We may in other things, perhaps, allowably differ; but here our judgment must be unanimous, while we visit the tombs of our ancestors, and daily tread upon the dust once inhabited by immortal spirits. “Your fathers,--where are WeR 20JUN 34

they? The prophets,--do they live forever?" Burying places discover graves of every dimension, from the infant of a span, to the swain of tallest stature. The hoary head, though frequently unnoticed, proclaims aloud the swift approach of Death to venerable age, ripening for the grave by a series of bodily infirmities. The young in years, the bloom of youth, and strength of manhood, in this unequal war, can make no greater resistance than tottering weakness. Almost every day produceth fresh testimony, that youth is by no means an insurance from death, nor robust, and brawny limbs a security from the grave. The greatest monarch comes down here to a perfect equality with the basest beggar; and the most delicate epicurean ranks only with the menial drudge or scullion in the kitchen. Neither robes of the finest lawn, nor crowns of the purest gold, have power to exempt their wearers from the pains and horrours of a gloomy death bed, and its inevitable consequences. How awful is this consideration, "God has appointed that all men once shall die!" Must it not affect the mind to think of entering into an unknown state of existence? A state, of which nothing can in this life be learned but from the word of revelation. And is it not still more awful to see, that notwithstanding the absolute certainty, and the vast importance of Death, the far greatest part of mankind pay little or no regard to its dread

solemnity! Men in general will be more cautious and exact in their inquiries after even the most trifling commodity they purchase, than about the most suitable preparation for death. If a tradesman is about purchasing any valuable article, how diligent he is to guard against imposition! If a gentleman purchaseth an estate, how inquisitive he is after its real value, and with what accuracy does he examine the validity of his title ! notwithstanding he is to hold it, as it were, only by the hour, or rather by the moment!

Strange it is, but it is true as strange, that the bulk of mankind will take nothing upon trust, except their everlasting concerns. O reader, if thou art one of this thoughtless herd, allow me to tell thee, that thou hast a terrible death bed, at least a terrible death before thee, which will overtake thee, and will not spare thee one moment, because of thine unpreparedness! No: if thou remainest thoughtless, thou remainest also without excuse; thou hast had, thou still hast, monitors enough.-The passing-bell, whose doleful sound daily salutes thine ear, calls thee to remember thy mortality; every newspaper that thou readest, by the accounts of death in it, bids thee look forward to another world; yea, every pain, every symptom of disease summoneth thee to prepare for thy long home. Let no man therefore say, "he had no warning of his mortality;" seeing almost every

thing in nature, if duly attended to, proclaims it to thee. Yet man, thoughtless man, goes on under a vain show, and securely pursues earthly objects with as much assiduity as if Death had in reality no existence, and as if there was not an awful hereafter consequent upon dissolution.

Give me leave to deal plainly with thee for once my reader,--for God, thy judge, will one day, and that perhaps very soon, be plain, justly, and strictly exact with thee, and with every one; will call thee to a severe account for the thoughtlessness of thy ways; yea, and visit upon thee the sad effects of thine own inconsideration. Tremendous must that audit be, which is unthought of, and for which thou art unprovided; like the man without the wedding garment, the sinner shall remain speechless.

Thou pressest hard after the perishing riches of this world; sometimes successfully, but frequently disappointed. And what if thou couldst amass the wealth of the whole nation to thyself, so that all thy mites should increase to talents! Alas! what would this profit, if thy soul is yet a stranger to that religion which is the only preparative for a happy dissolution? A bed of state will not deter the approach of rude and uncivil disease, nor will embroidered curtains repel the shaft of Death; the silver canopy over the face will not inspire thee with one ray of hope to preserve thee from droop

ing on the prospect of losing thine all. Couldst thou leave as many millions as thou dost pounds, to surviving heirs or to charitable uses, it would not, in the least, open upon thy heart the pleasing prospect of divine felicity, nor bribe the fangs of hell from seizing thy despairing spirit; would not even purchase thee a more tolerable station in the mansions of the damned, or one moment's respite from thine unutterable woe. Vain and insignificant wealth can only comfort in health and prosperity, but boasteth not the power of relieving when in the greatest necessity. Yet how many damn themselves by prefering thee, O delusive wealth, to Jesus and his salvation! O God, open the eyes of blind and thoughtless man, that he may be wise to consider his latter end!

Art thou a man of pleasure, and is thine heart in publick places of resort? How unworthy, then, the name of man! How much more excellent are the brutal ranks, which so faithfully answer the several ends of their existence! The very beasts that draw thee to routs and assemblies, and serve to promote thy unmanly dissipation, will bring in their several accusations; and all thine enjoyments will be swift witnesses against thee. Go on in thy life of festivity. Let every day be a renewed carnival; and every returning evening produce some new, some more pleasing revel than the former. Shut out from thine impious heart all