most every page will teach you in one form and another, that religion is to be the business of early life, and not of a dying hour.

2. That few are converted in the late hours of life is manifest from the very nature of religion. It is spoken of as a thing that commences, and by time grows and is matured in the heart. It is compared to leaven hid in the meal, which gradually operates till the whole is leavened. Paul speaks of the Christian as "forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth to those things that are before, pressing toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." And again, speaking of the family of believers, says, "Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." From these representations, and a thousand like them, it would seem that the believer is converted generally long before he dies, and has time to grow in grace and in the knowledge of the truth, till by degrees he becomes matured for the heavenly state. Converted late in life there would be no time for this gradual progress. The Christian's life could not then be a warfare, he would have no need of the whole armour of God. All the directions given to the Christian how to live, and how to feel, and how to speak so as to honour religion, would seem to be lost if the great body of believers were not converted long before they die. Indeed the very idea of a visible church makes it manifest that the great body of the redeemed will be enlisted early in the service of God, be members of his church below, and in this world, by discipline, and instruction, and frequent communications of grace, become qualified for the rest and the glory of heaven.

3. The fact that a preached gospel is God's insti

tuted means of salvation, goes to show that we are to expect but few conversions on the dying bed. For "the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God." "For after that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe." Speaking of the heathen the same apostle says, "How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?" The three thousand on the day of Pentecost were awakened under a preached gospel. And ever since then, this has been the grand means of the salvation of souls. But these means are scarcely applicable to the dying man. True, he may have heard the gospel before, and the truths he has heard may awaken him when on the dying bed; or the gospel may be preached by his bedside, if infidel associates have not fenced the truth from his dying chamber. Still it is not to be expected that when one has neglected religion till the last days of his life, God will then send him the gospel and give it such efficacy as to change the heart, and if not, the hope of a death-bed repentance is small.

4. As far as we can know the purpose of God from Scripture or fact, it is his purpose to employ his people in this world as instruments of his glory, before he takes them to heaven. Inquire of the children of God the date of their conversion, and they will almost uniformly point you to some early period of life. Our revivals prevail principally among the youth. The psalmist says, “Thou wilt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory." God says, "They that honour me I will honour.". Believers go from strength to strength,

till every one of them appeareth in Zion before God. We fight for the crown, we wrestle for the prize, and strive for the victory. But all this is incompatible with a death-bed repentance, and renders it, I think, clearly improbable that there are many such instances.

5. Many circumstances conspire to render the exercises of the sick and dying bed doubtful. In that situation we are to expect from the very nature of the case, that one will be filled with alarm. He views himself on the verge of eternity. All he does must be done quickly. Conscious that the whole of life has been mis-spent, that he must soon die, and that there is no work, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, nor device in the grave, and that judgment will tread upon the heels of death, he becomes alarmed of course.

And if the paroxysms of disease do not prevent, he is very liable to become the subject of rational conviction. Shut up from the scenes of a busy world, he will naturally think on his case; and the more he thinks, the deeper will be his impression of his guilt and ruin. The truth he has heard he will now recollect. The invitations he has neglected, the admonitions he has slighted, the warnings and the reproofs, will all return anew, and pour their congregated light upon his conscience. It is an honest hour, and the truth will be felt. Hence a state of alarm and conviction would seem to be a thing of course, if the ravages of disease leaves any leisure or strength for reflection.

And such a state of mind is very liable to be followed by calmness, hope, and joy. From the very constitution of our minds, and of some more than others, we are liable to vibrate from one extreme to the other, from a state of deep depression and despair, to a state of ecstatic

joy. We have seen persons who, on the loss of some

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dear friend, seemed as if they should die, and yet, in a few days, would be even light and trifling. In times of awakening, some have seemed to be filled with the terrors of hell, and in a short time were more vain and trifling than ever. With a dying man who is conscious that he has lived without God and without Christ in the world, there is such an amazing interest at stake, that he will naturally grasp at a hope that he may be saved. When death stares us in the face, a hopeless state is intolerable. Hence the dying man will be constantly looking about him for evidence that he is a believer, and will be very liable to obtain a hope without evidence.

When hope is once acquired, many things will conspire to strengthen it. It may be succeeded by great joy. The idea that one is safe will naturally render him happy. And this false joy by re-action will strengthen his hope. Friends who are about the sick-bed, if pious or not pious, will be glad to see the sufferer happy, and will be tempted to do their utmost to strengthen and confirm his hope. And if pious, unless peculiarly faithful, they will be liable to aid his delusions, and strengthen his refuge of lies.

He thinks his passions subdued by the grace of God, when in fact they are only tamed by the paroxysms of disease. The appetites do not demand unlawful gratification, for they have for the present ceased their operation. The patient imagines that he has ceased to love the world, when in fact he is only beaten off from its embrace by the rage of disease. Because he is constrained to abandon the cares, the pleasures, and the vexations of life, and is led to think much on the subject of death and judgment, he presumes that he has become heavenly-minded.

As the words of the lips are little to be relied on, and are not spoken of in Scripture as full evidence of piety, it is difficult to suppose that a dying man should be able to apply to his piety any very decisive tests. He cannot mingle with the ungodly and show us that he hates and reproves their vile conduct. He cannot engage in trade or business, and so prove to us that he will not be hard and dishonest in his dealings. He cannot know the miseries of those around him, and show his benevolence by flying to their help. He cannot mingle with God's people in the sanctuary and the place of prayer and conference, and show us that he loves the people and wor ship of God. He is not exposed to temptation, and cannot prove to us that he has a religion that can overcome the world, and stand against the influx of iniquity.

In one word, a sick and dying man can bear but little of the fruits of holiness. He cannot give us the same evidence that a person in health can in the same time, which leads me to observe,

6. That the time is so short generally in which we can observe the exercises of a sick and dying man, that whatever the case may be, our hopes cannot rise very high. If one in health, without any special event of providence to alarm him, become the subject of awakening conviction and hope, still we at first rejoice with trembling, and often many months elapse before we lose all our fears that he may return again to a state of stupidity. And our apprehensions must be greater still in the case of one whose exercises commenced while he stood on the verge of the grave.

7. The fact that so many have appeared well in the sick and dying chamber, while death was seen to hang over them, but have on their recovery lost their impressions, and appeared even worse than ever, has rendered