first separation from the body, with regard to that invisible world which every where surrounds us, though we are not able to discover it through this grosser world of matter, which is accommodated to our senses in this life. His words are as follow:

"That death, which is our leaving this world, is nothing else but our putting off these bodies, teaches us, that it is only our union to these bodies, which intercepts the sight of the other world: The other world is not at such a distance from us, as we may imagine; the Throne of God indeed is at a great remove from this earth, above the third Heavens, where he displays his glory to those blessed spirits which encompass his Throne; but as soon as we step out of these bodies, we step into the other world; which is not so properly another world, (for there is the same heaven and earth still) as a new state of life. To live in these bodies is to live in this world; to live out of them is to remove into the next: For while our souls are confined to these bodies, and can look only through these material casements, nothing but what is material can affect us; nay, nothing but what is so gross, that it can reflect light, and convey the shapes and colours of things with it to the eye: So that though within this visible world, there be a more glorious scene of things than what appears to us, we perceive nothing at all of it; for this veil of flesh parts the visible and invisible world: But when we put off these bodies, there are new and surprising wonders present themselves to our views; when these material spectacles are taken off, the soul, with its own naked eyes, sees what was invisible before: And then we are in the other world, when we can see it, and converse with it. Thus St. Paul tells us, that when we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord; but when we are ab sent from the body, we are present with the Lord." 2 Cor. v. 6, 8. And methinks this is enough to cure us of our fondness for these bodies, unless we think it more desirable to be confined to a prison, and to look

through a grate all our lives, which gives us but a very narrow prospect, and that none of the best neither, than to be set at liberty to view all the glories of the world. What would we give now for the least glimpse of that invisible world, which the first step we take out of these bodies will present us with? There are such things as 'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nei ther bath it entered into the heart of man to conceive? Death opens our eyes, enlarges our prospect, presents us with a new and more glorious world, which we can never see while we are shut up in flesh; which should make us as willing to part with this veil, as to take the film off of our eyes, which hinders our sight.

"As a thinking man cannot but be very much af fected with the idea of his appearing in the presence of that Being whom none can see and live;' he must be much more affected when he considers that this Being whom he appears before, will examine all the actions of his past life, and reward or punish him accordingly. I must confess that I think there is no scheme of religion, besides that of Christianity, which can possibly support the most virtuous person under this thought. Let a man's innocence be what it will, let his virtues rise to the highest pitch of perfection attainable in this life, there will be still in him so many secret sins, so many human frailties, so many offences of iguorance, passion, and prejudice, so many unguarded words and thoughts, and, in short, so many defects in his best actions, that, without the advantages of such an expiation and atonement as Christianity has revealed to us, it is impossible that he should be cleared before his Sovereign Judge, or that he should be able to stand in his sight.' Our holy religion suggests to us the only means whereby our guilt may be taken away, and our imperfect obedience accepted."

It is this series of thought that I have endeavoured to express in the following hymn, which I have composed during this my sickness:

When rising from the bed of death,
O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker, face to face,
O how shall I appear!

If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be sought,

My heart with inward horror shrinks,
And trembles at the thought;

When thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclos'd

In Majesty severe,

And sit in judgment on my soul,
O how shall I appear!

But thou hast told the troubled mind,
Who does her sins lament,
The timely tribute of her tears

Shall endless woe prevent.

Then see the sorrow of my heart,

Ere yet it be too late;

And hear my Saviour's dying groans,
To give those sorrows weight.

For never shall my soul despair

Her pardon to procure,

Who knows thy only Son has dy'd

To make her pardon sure.

There is a noble hymn in French, which Monsieur Bayle has celebrated for a very fine one, and which the famous author of the Art of Speaking calls an admirable one, that turns upon a thought of the same nature. If I could have done it justice in English, I would have sent it you translated; it was written by Monsieur Des Barreaux, who had been one of the greatest wits and libertines in France, but in his last years was as remarkable a penitent.

Grand Dieu, tes jugemens sont remplis d'equite –
Toujours tu prens plaisir a nous etre propice.
Mais j'ai tant fait de mal, que jamais ta bonte
Ne me pardonnera, sans choquer ta justice.
Qui, mon Dieu, la grandeur de mon impiete
Ne laisse a ton pouvoir que le choix du suplice:
Ton interest s'oppose a ma felicite;

Et ta clemence meme attend que je perisse.
Contente ton desir, puis qu'il t'est glorieux;
Offense toi des pleurs qui coulent de mes yeux ;
Tonne, frappe, il est tems, rens moi guerre pour
guerre ;

J'adore en perissant la raison qui t' aigrit Mais dessus quel endroit tombera ton tonnere, Qui ne soit tout couvert du sang de Jesus Christ.

SOCRATES TO HIS JUDGES.

Nemo vir magnus sine aliquo afflatu divino unquam fuit. TULL.

All great men are in some degree inspired.

WE know the highest pleasure our minds are capable of enjoying with composure, when we read sublime thoughts communicated to us by men of great genius and eloquence. Such is the entertainment we meet with in the philosophic part of Cicero's writings. Truth and good sense have there so charming a dress, that they could hardly be more agreeably represented with the addition of poetical fiction, and the power of numbers. This ancient author has fallen into my hands within these few days, and left upon me strong impressions. If I had a mind to it, I could not at present talk of any thing else; therefore I shall trans late a passage of Cicero for the speculation of this

day. He tells us, that Plato reports Socrates, upon receiving his sentence, to have spoken to his judges in the following manner:

"I have great hopes, O my judges, that it is infinitely to my advantage that I am sent to death: for it must of necessity be, that one of these two things must be the consequence. Death must take away all these senses, or convey me to another life. If all sense is to be taken away, and death is no more than that profound sleep without dreams, in which we are sometimes buried, O Heavens, how desirable it is to die! how many days do we know in life preferable to such a state? But if it be true that death is but a passage to places which they who lived before ns do now inhabit, how much still happier is it to go from those who call themselves judges, to appear before those that really are such; before Minos, Rhadamanthus, Æacus, and` Triptolemus, and to meet men who have lived with justice and truth? Is this, do you think, no happy journey? Do you think it nothing to speak with Orpheus, Musæus, Homer, and Hesiod? I would, indeed, suffer many deaths to enjoy these things. With what particular delight should I talk to Palamedes, Ajax, and others, who like me have suffered by the iniquity of their judges! I should examine the wisdom of that great prince, who carried such mighty forces against Troy; and argue with Ulysses and Sisyphus, upon difficult points, as I have in conversation here, without being in danger of being condemned. But let not those among you who have pronounced me an innocent man be afraid of death. No harm can arrive at a good man whether dead or living; his affairs are always under the direction of the Gods; nor will I believe the fate which is allotted to me my. self this day to have arrived by chance; nor have I ought to say either against my judges or accusers, but that they thought they did me an injury- -But I detain you too long, it is time that I retire to death,