vary; and finding themfelves unfuitable companions, they mutually agreed to feparate; and feverally to follow that path, which appeared to each moft likely to lead to the object of their purfuit, viz. happiness.

The firft took a winding path, which was every where adorned with the most beautiful flowers; at once charming the eye with the variety of their tints, and regaling the smell, with the richness of their perfume. Here he was at no lofs for companions; a prodigious multitude of people being collected, who were all walking in the fame path, and engaged in the fame purfuits. At one time, they amufed themfelves by forming nofegays of the finest flowers to decorate their bofoms, or adorn their brows; at another, they lay reclined in the enchanting arbours, which art had formed; and, in all the indulgence of the moft effeminate indolence, liftened to the warblings of the birds, who carolled in the furrounding trees. Here you might fee a party of nymphs and fwains, who danced in concert to the fofteft mufic; and there a group, who were pampering their appetites with all the delicacies they could invent. I could not, however, help'obferving that our traveller and his gay friends, were frequently furprifed in the midst of their delights, with an unexpected misfortune; fometimes, while they were encircling their temples with chaplets of the fineit rofes, the thorns which environed them would pierce their flefh, and occafion the most agonizing fmart; at others, dangerous ferpents, which lay concealed among the flowery meadows, would fix their envenomed ftings in the most vital parts, and caule excruciating tortures, and, fometimes, inftant death.

Thefe difaftrous events at length made our adventurer grow weary of fcenes, which expofed him to fuch painful accidents; and he turned afide, about the middle of the defart, into another path, which, though not fo pleasant as that he had forfaken, was nearly as much thronged with paffengers as the former; but they appeared in generalfarther advanced in years, and of a graver caft than his late affociates. Here he employed himfelf in common with his new friends in collecting together immenfe quantities of fhining duft, or curious pebbles; and, ftrange to tell, each feemed to value himfelf in proportion to the load of thefe encumbering trifles which he carried with him; though as their ftrength continually decreafed as they advanced towards the end of their journey, they were often ready to fink under the weight of their burdens. I perceived, too,

that

that this path was every where covered with two noxious. weeds, called Care, and Sufpicion, which spread a peftilential vapour through the air, and foon injured the strongest conftitution.

Here I left him for a while, and turned to take a view of the youth, with whom he at first fet out. I obferved, that he was walking in a very narrow path, (which he had entered by a finall gate) which, though at intervals it prefented a few flowers, was fo over-run with briars and thorns, that his progrefs was rendered extremely difficult and inconvenient: there were likewife feveral bogs and floughs, into which he was in great danger of falling; dark clouds often intercepted the rays of the fun, fo as to occafion almoft total darknefs; and the diftrefs and perplexity occafioned by all these circumftances received no fmall addition from the fcorn, and contemptuous ufage of thofe who were walking in the pleafant paths before defcribed; who, being within fight and hearing, would frequently ridicule him in the moft.cruel and infulting termus, for what they called his folly, and madnefs in choofing a road fo befet with hazard and inconvenience. It is true, he met with fome companions, who endeavoured to encourage him in his arduous undertaking; but thele were very few when opposed to the multitudes, which were travelling the other roads; and, as they were all expofed to the fame trials as himself, they could do little more than fympathife, and condole with each other. Notwithstanding, thefe dif couragements, our traveller continued to advance, and though he met with frequent trips from the roughnefs and unevenness of the way, he fpeedily rofe again, and purfued his journey. At first, I was aftonifhed at his perfeverance; but I foon perceived that a hand, which before I had not feen, was conftantly reached from above to fupport him in all his trials; when he met with an accidental fall, this hand quickly lifted him up; when he flackened his pace, it urged him forward; and when (as was fometimes the cafe) he was fo worn out by the fatigues he had to encounter, as to be ready to turn afide; it inftantly caught his arm, and kept him in the right path. I faw, likewife, that he had a map of the country to which he was going, which he often confidered with great delight; and, he eagerly embraced every mean in his power of improving himfelf in the language fpoken by its inhabitants. The defart too was not wholly deftitute of enjoyments, and I obferved, that thefe appeared more abundant, the farther

322

he

he advanced. He frequently met with ftreams of the pureit water, at which he would drink, with a fatisfaction that feemed infinitely to exceed that of the travellers in the other paths, even when they were, rioting in all the profufion of luxurious indulgence. Sometimes the very briars, contrary to nature, would produce the most exquifite fruits; and I particularly remarked, that when a little group of thefe fcattered pilgrims happened to meet, they converfed together with fuch affection; and defcribed the land to which they were travelling with fuch transports, that all their troubles were forgotten; and thofe very perfons who derided them, could not help envying the happinefs which was depicted on their countenances.

In this manner our traveller continued to proceed till he came within fight of the farther fide of the defart, which was bounded by a river, whofe tide was amazingly rapid; when he arrived here, I looked to fee whether there was any bridge, but found none; and was quickly informed that every perion, when they reached this fide of the defart, was under an unavoidable neceflity of fording the river. Our traveller accordingly prepared to enter it, but I could plainly fee that the courage he had manifested by the way, began here to fail, and he hefitated as irrefolute; when inftantly a form more lovely than any of the fons of men, appeared on the other fide of the river, and, cafting on him a look of divine benignity, faid, "Fear not, for where I am, there fhall you be alfo." Animated by this fweet promife, he looked upwards with a tranquil file, and inftantly plunging into the water, the fame fupernatural hand that had guided him in his journey, held him faft til he had got quite through the river. How great now was my aftonishment at the change, which appeared in him the moment he fet his foot on the oppofite thore! His countenance fhone with angelic luftre, his garments were whiter than fnow, and more glorious than the beams of the meridian fun; millions of heavenly forms came to welcome his arrival, and the light which emanated from their refulgent glory was fo dazzling, that I was no longer capable of fupporting the fight. I therefore, turned my eyes back to the defart, and faw the man who had originally been the companion of the happy fpirit I had juft been confidering, drawing near the banks of the river. He had accumulated fuch a weighty burden of duft and ftones," that he was fearcely able to crawl under it; and instead of advancing willingly towards the river, he tried by every poffible

poffible means to get back into the wilderness. While I looked a meagre and terrific form, caught him by the hand, and, in ipite of all his refiftance, plunged him in the waters. Stunned by the violence of the motion, he fell head-long in; but, alas! no fhining form appeared for his affiftance, no hand was fent to his fupport; he fhricked in wild defpair, and was immediately borne away by the violence of the ftream; his fcreams ftill reiterated in my ears, and I awoke. Reader, thou haft followed our adventurers to the end of their journey, haft thou confidered the confequences that enfue? The defart is the wilderness of life, the paths are called Pleasure, Riches, and Religion. You, and I are among the number of the travellers; and the application nearly concerns us; if all our time is spent in either of the former paths, the end will be mifery and endless ruin; if the latter is our choice, we thall meet with trials by the way, but it will conduct us to the shores of immortality; from whence, by a gentle afcent, we fhall reach the Paradife of God.

Sandwich.

E. T.

TH

THE GAIN OF DEATH.

HE fear of God on the heart, of man generally begins with deep and powerful impreffions refpecting the eternal world, and the felicity of the immortal foul. Whatever may be the means of it, this great object is the thing which occupies the thoughts, and engages the attention of the mind: How am I to be happy in the world to come? What is neceffary to prepare me for a blessed change, that I may die comfortably, and eater into the kingdom of God? Nor does this prevailing defire leave the Chriftian all the way through. He knows that life is uncertain, and he feels many difficulties in his paffage; and, therefore, the great concern of his foul is to familiarize death to his own mind, and to cheer his fpirits with lively prospects of a future and better ftate. How evidently does this principle prevail in the views of St. Paul! The felicity of dying, the evils he would be delivered from, and the tranfcendant happiness he would enjoy thereby, run through all his writings. And no , wonder, a man who is in perils of various kinds, who experiences the powerful oppofition of avowed enemies, and the vibrating felicity of uncertain friends, who is fometimes in want and often in prifon, will certainly look forward with

cheering

cheering hopes to an happier world, where forrow and fighing fhall flee away. "To die is gain."

But what gain can it be to die if there is no future state? If a man is not in exiftence when he leaves this world, the idea of gain is entirely loft. Whatever be our fituation in life, we have fome enjoyments, and when we die these must be given up; but if there is nothing to counterbalance this lofs, if there is not fomething fuperior to be obtained, death could not be gain, but a difadvantage. To be with Chrift is far better than any thing here, and this is the felicity the faint enjoys as foon as he leaves this world. The body returns to the duft, but the spirit goes immediately to God who gave it. It was faid to the penitent thief, "This day fhalt thou be with me in paradife." Chriftianity, in this refpect, has the advantage of every other fyftem. Probability of future happiness is the very utmoft of what philofophy can pretend to give; but the Golpel realizes future glory even while we are in this world, and removes all fears from the mind refpecting the certainty of actual poffeffion. “Faith is the fubftance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not feen."

If death is gain, the future world must be better than this. If a man leaves one country to go to another, if he does not obtain fome advantages by his removal, he gains nothing. In the prefent ftate there is much difference among the inhabitants of the world in point of poffeffion and enjoyment. Providence fmiles upon fome who are raifed to the highest pitch of earthly happinefs; while others have to encounter complicated mifery in every pol fible form: even among good men there is this difference, for it is of thefe alone we fpeak. But whatever be their circumftances, they have to die; death is common to the happy and the miferable, in the palace and the cottage; but if a man dies a happy death, though he was here in the very highest degree of worldly greatnefs, and if to this be added all the felicity of religion itfelf, with the highest attainments and enjoyments in it, death will be gain even to him above all calculation or computation. A man must have a very poor idea of Heaven who conceives of it only as being on a level with human blifs. Indeed, its grandeur, and the various fcenes which conftitute its felicity, are generally reprefented to us by figures taken from worldly things, fuch as kingdoms, poffeffions, and whatever is great and glorious among men; but thefe images are in conformity to our grovelling conceptions. We are incapable, in

Our