July 5 — On the Certainty of Death

Consider, first, that there is nothing more certain than death It is appointed for all men once to die, and after that judgment, Hebr. ix. 27. The sentence is general; it is pronounced upon all the children of Adam; Ecclus, xli. 5. Neither riches, nor dignity, nor strength, nor wisdom, nor all the power of the world. M£I>tTA;ri(HfS FOB ciia eiiempt any one from this common doom. From the first moment of our birth, we are hastening towards our death; every moment brings us nearer to it The day will come, when we shall never see the night; or the night will come, when the sun will no more rise to us. The day will most certainly come when thou, my soul, who art rediog these lines, must bid a long farewell to this cheating world, end to all thou hast admired therein, and even to thy own body, the individual companion of thy life; and take thy journey to another country, a strange and unknown land to thee, where all thou settest a value on here will appear as smoke. O learn, then, to despise all these perishable things, and to set thy heart on nothing, since all must ho taken away by death.

Consider, secondly, that death is not only certain, but, genially speaking, much nigher than we imagine. If ever we look upon death, it is generally with the wrong end of the perspective glass, that removes the object to a great distance when indeed it is very near. We are apt to flatter ourselves, with the worldling in the gospel, (Luke xii,) with the expectation of many yeara enjoyment of our worldly goods and pleasures; and, when we least of all suspect it, we are called away; we must suddenly be gone. Thm fool saith our Lord, this night do they require thy soul of thee; and whose shall those things be which thou hast provided? Thousands are dying, this very hour, throughout the world; and perhaps not one of them all but expected to have liv ed many more years. We daily hear of sudden deaths; we dai ly hear of young and strong people carried off by short sick nesses, in the very flower of their age; and why will we deceive ourselves? Why will we vainly imagine ourselves out of tba reach of these arrows of death, that are falling so thick on a|l sides of us?. Ah, fool, why dost thou think to live long wkeia thou art not sure ef one day? Kempis.

Consider, thirdly, the wretched blindness and stupidity ol mortals, that think so little of death, and live as if they wre t< be always here, and by this means expose themselves, every day, to the dreadful danger of dying in their sins, pd yet, aki? l sjl this while they cannot be ignorant, that death is continually fol lowing them at their heels; they even carry it about with them in the frail composition of their mortal frame. All the things about them, by their continual fading, remind them of their mortality. They daily see or hear of deaths or burials; or meet with the monuments of the dead, who, from their silent tombs, cease not to admonish them, in the words of the wise map, folus. xxxviii,) Remember my judgment: for thine also sh oc so: yesterday for me, and to-day for thee, O my soul, do ou, at mast, give ear to this admonition; keep death always beEVERT DAT Its TJlE TEAR, fore thy eyes; aad, when it comes, thou shall have nothing to fear.

Conclude, since thou must so quickly be gone from hence, to set thy house now in order, and to make all necessary provisions for that long journey, which thou must shortly take; and ever strive to be such in life as thou desirest to be found in death.