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all of glory hereafter, is of Him, from Him, by Him. And what effect has this sentiment upon their Christian deportment and experience? It weans them from earth; "Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than all the treasures" of the world. It is the spring of their obedience; for they are not their own, and live not unto themselves, but to Him who died for them and rose again." It is their support in weakness, their hope in darkness, their joy in sorrow, their comfort in affliction, their triumph in death. So then, Christ is "the Alpha and Omega," "the First and the Last," "their Chief Corner Stone," "all their salvation, and all their desire." And such being the case through life, it has its influence in death. Jesus appears truly precious to the bereaved and afflicted, to the tempted and persecuted believer. His word is always a cordial-His grace always sufficient-His smile always inspiring bliss unspeakable-His consolations always abundant; but never so truly so as in the hour of death. Life is departing; but he clings with a more endearing grasp to Jesus. Time is fading; but the clouds and mists which obscure all temporal things are clearing away from the face of Jesus, that he may see Him more perfectly.

Friends, kind and affectionate, are weeping around his dying bed, and waiting for his departing blessingeach lingering behind the other, to catch the dying gaze, or hear the last sigh, and he feels desolate and alone, as one after another vanishes from his vision. But Jesus departs not-Jesus forsakes him not; He is the strength of his guilty flesh and heart, and lifts up his head when bowed in death; the presence of Jesus is all he require3, and the promises of Jesus all he desires. But behold! the last struggle is come-he pants for breath-now blesses his family-now he utters his last prayer—now his fluttering heart is still-his eyes have for ever closed

-his head plainly sinks upon the pillow. Hark! he breathes not all is over, and he sleeps in Jesus. Disturb not his slumbers! he sleeps! peace reigns in his heart, and a smile beams upon the pallid check. He sleeps! composed to slumber, he awaits the sounding of the archangel's trump, to awaken his body to life.

Thus you have been led to view the twofold description of the death of a Christian. I might easily enlarge, but I forbear; enough I trust has been said, to lead you all to adopt the language of one of old, and say, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his."

Beloved brethren, I have very faintly and imperfectly sketched the picture of the Christian's death; but I would lead you to seek to become such yourselves, that you may for yourselves experience what peace they have who sleep in Jesus. But I must apply the remarks already made to the case of our dear departed friend and sister in the Lord. Without hesitation would we say, it is our hope, yea, our firm belief, that she sleeps in Jesus. Early in life, her mind became the subject of serious religious impressions, and she was always remarked for being blessed with a peculiarly tender conscience. By the reading of God's Word, and regular attendance upon the means of grace, her religious feelings expanded, and her convictions of sin became very strong, and the consciousness of her depravity preyed much upon her mind, and for some years greatly cast her down in spirit. She was at last enabled to look to Jesus, and by simple faith to commit the keeping of her soul into His hands, relying entirely upon His blood and righteousness for pardon and acceptance with God.

Hers was not a dead, or an unproductive faith. No; she evinced the power of godliness, by attendance upon its forms. Her diligent labors in the Sunday school

isk itters of they want

to rea? the benefits of Christ "in them"

f

living

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MEMORIAL TRIBUTES.

connected with this church, her self-denial in acts of piety and charity to the poor, her desire for, and labor in, promoting the cause of her Lord and Master, in collecting for the Church Missionary and other kindred societies, her visits to the house of "the widow and fatherless in their affliction," and her constant, upright, consistent profession of piety in her family—all these things, my dear hearers, speak louder than any words of mine, in proof of the sincerity of our departed sister's religion.

WHAT WILL YE DO IN THE END?

REV. THOMAS BINNEY.

WEIGH-HOUSE CHAPEL, LONDON.

"What will YE do in the end?"-JEREMIAH V; 31,

IN consistency with the very general custom, I am about to-night, as we are at the commencement of the year, to address myself to young persons, making particular reference to the circumstances, history and death of a young man, at the age of twenty-one.

His end was, peace. What will yours be? My text will be a question, which you will find in the fifth chapter of Jeremiah, and the last clause of the last verse :—

1. In the first place, I observe, then there is an end, to anticipate.

"All men," as Young says

"All men think all men mortal but themselves."

They may not say it; they might reject the thought, if presenting itself very distinctly in their intellect; but they feel it, and act as if it were true. But we know it to be a deception, and we know it to be dangerous.

There is an end. An end to life to every course of life-every kind of it. Honors cannot be accumulated for ever; nor profits made for ever; nor pleasures enjoyed for ever. Every step is getting nearer to the termination.

And it may be soon: sudden. Where are the young men, after a little while, that from every part of the country, at all times throughout the year, are being drifted hither as by a strong tide setting in from every point. round about, and bringing them to our doors, our streets, our warehouses? What is this great metropolis to them -many of them? A great gulf, into which they are drifted and drifted-and drifted; and many of them appear for a little while and vanish for ever.

Now you know this. You know what changes you young men are continually seeing in the place, in the company, in the servants, the agents, of mercantile establishments: how you miss such and such an individual. You saw him last perhaps at a place of amusement; you saw him last in the midst of pleasures-and perhaps guilty ones. You wonder what is become of him. What is become of him! the young man has gone home to die. And from our warehouses, our offices and our streets, our places of business and places of pleasure, one after another is retiring to die! Thus the change is continually going on.

"What will ye do in the end?" Then-this would seem to be of great importance at the end.

2. What has been the character of the course?

If "the end" were to be taken absolutely, with the absoluteness of infidelity, the question would have no meaning. "What will ye do in the end ?" "Nothing; for I shall be nothing.' What shall I do in the end? I shall do just what I did before I was born-when I had not an existence-when I was not; for I shall be that

again.' If infidelity be true, that would be the reply.

I know, that some teach what I suppose they may think a very magnificent and beautiful thing-the immortality of man in the sense of the immortality of the species, and its indefinite, perpetual improvement. As if it were any thing to me-to my heart with its innate hunger after life, with my affections and capacities and conscious individuality of being-to tell me about the individuals of some future generation that are to exist. To tell me to rejoice in a thing like that!-when I am to be nothing, and there is only to be this sort of abstract immortality of the species.

No. "What will ye do in the end ?” It is a matter that is to come home to our own business, character and course, in relation to ourselves. For our moral instincts, general experience, consciousness, the representations of Scripture tell us, that as we approach the end, and when we get there, the character of the course will be (if I may so express it) of more importance than it is now of more importance at the end than previously-previously where there is merciful discipline, where there is a mixture of circumstances, where there is the opportunity of change, where there are all the appliances of providence and grace. At the end," when all these are about to be removed for ever, it will be of the highest possible importance, what has been the character of the course, on which they have been impressed. So that looking upon the dead man, it is not so much a question with God, how the man died, as what the man was when he came to die -how he got there-what was the character of the course that brought him to that point.

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"3. What will ye do in the end?"

It is the part of a thoughtful and wise man, often to meditate on this.