similar to this. Where are her converts from among devout and serious Christians? Where are those who confess the guilt of believing the revelation of the Bible? Where are the regrets and penitence for having obeyed the gospel? All is a blank. Infidelity and her objections, are DISOBEDIENCE; faith, with her solid fruits, is OBEDIENCE to the great God and Father of all.

But I hasten to the last division of our contrast.

III. THEIR DEATHS AND

PREPARATION

FOR AN ETERNAL STATE OF BEING.

And here the interval widens: the gloom deepens even to darkness on the one side, whilst the light breaks forth into splendour on the other. Whatever contrast there may be between the two classes, as to their principles, their general conduct, their benevolence, their public labours and writings, this contrast is immeasurably more awful as we view them as to their approach toward death, and their preparation for eternity.

What, then, is the death-bed of the unbeliever? What is he engaged in at this solemn season? How does his conscience respond to the inquiry, "Have I been seeking truth?" Alas! the thick obscurity of the scene too surely

portends what is beyond! For of whatever particular description be his death, it gives a loud and clear testimony against the objections he has been relying on-they condemn, they desert, they betray him at last.

Whether we look to the confessions and regret of some infidels in the article of deaththe obduracy and insensibility of others—the pride and presumption of a third class-the carelessness and levity which mark a fourththe rage and despair by which others are rendered awfully conspicuous; or the self-destruction by which so great a number fall; whatever cases we select and contrast with the circumstances of the dying Christian-all, all proclaim that infidelity is rebellion against the God of heaven, and that her objections are the mere foaming and boiling over of man's inbred corruptions; whilst truth and holiness and the attestations of God, in his moral government, are on the side of Christianity.

1

1. Notice the REGRET AND CONFESSIONS of the awakened infidel on his death-bed. I hear Burnet's convert acknowledge that the real source and spring of his unbelief, was a space of five years spent in profligacythat his vices had led him to seek a miserable refuge in infidelity and presumption. I hear

1 Lord Rochester.

many of the culprits, who have been doomed to expiate their crimes against society by an ignominious death, own and lament their infidel principles, as the first cause of the deeds for which they suffered.' What do these confessions teach me? Where is the Christian that ever lamented on a dying bed his belief in the revelation of the Gospel? I ask for a single example of any sincere believer in Revelation, being confused and ashamed at last for his faith. Where is the instance? I demand only one, if it exists, that at the least I may weigh the fact against the numerous,—the innumerable instances I was going to say-of confession, and shame, and sorrow, which the victims of infidelity furnish. Multitudes of Christians have regretted that they had not more fully obeyed their religion, but not one that he had reposed his trust in it.

2. But take the OBDURATE AND INSENSIBLE class of death-bed scenes. I approach the dying infidel, occupied to the last instant with secular concerns, calculating on the time which remains for him, without a thought or reference to eternity; without a reflection on the past, or

I have in my possession a letter from the chaplain, who attended the conspirators against the lives of his Majesty's ministers, in 1809, known by the name of the Cato-street conspirators, which informed me that all the leading crimi nals were avowed infidels.

a prayer for the future; utterly callous to every thing that regards him as an immortal and accountable creature; repelling the voice and invitations of the minister of religion. What does all this proclaim? What is there here of a right state of heart? Is insensibility to the greatest of all concerns reasonable or becoming in man?

Contrast with this insensibility the dying couch of the Christian. He perceives death to approach; he prepares for the event; he examines his heart and life; he calls in the minister of grace; he confesses every past sin; he forgives every injury; he composes himself to the nearer struggle with the great foe; he trusts to the mercy of God in Jesus Christ; he commends his children, his servants, to the care of a kind and powerful heavenly Father; he dies in peace. Nature, conscience, the slightest moral feeling, compel one to declare that this man is right-and the other deceived and ruined. It is impossible to look on the one without horror, or on the other without an assurance of his future happiness and joy.

3. But contrast the PRIDE AND PRESUMPTION of other infidels at the approach of death, with the humility and prostration of heart which meekly adorn the departing Christian. I see Gibbon, full of vanity to the last dregs of life, calculating, only twenty hours before its close,

on the probability of a continued existence for fifteen years; confessing, that as life wore away, the failure of hope gave "a browner tint to the prospects of man;" and meeting the Almighty, whom he had been by his laborious and artful infidelity and licentiousness, daring to his face, with a treacherous confidence. What, what does such a scene teach one? Or, again, when I hear the last presumptuous accents of Rousseau, claiming the favour of his Creator, and declaring that he returned him his soul pure and immaculate as he had received it, what does it impress upon the attentive mind?

Let the humility of the Christian's deathbed give the proper reply. I see the almost unequalled Pascal, after a life of eminent sanctity, and the composition of works which have long been the admiration of Christendom, approaching his end. During his malady, charity and patience were the conspicuous features of his mind. His humility was such, that he desired to have a poor sick person brought into his chamber, and receive the same attentions with himself. Being interrogated by the minister of religion as to his faith, before he received the sacrament, he said, "Yes, sir; I believe all that with all my heart." He then said, "May God never leave me;” which were his last words, except short thanksgivings,