thee during my life, I would well deserve to be cast off of thee at my death. The division which I make of my life having given almost all to sin and to the devil, and reserving to thee only the few moments which may yet remain for me, this division, I say, would deserve that thou shouldst refuse to grant my request, and that thou shouldst send me back to those idols of vanity which I have so sinfully worshipped, and which now are unable to render me the least assistance. Thus, it would be a great exertion of mercy even to accept a repentance so slow and so long delayed as mine, and it would be just that I should implore it of thee with the utmost effort of my heart. This is, nevertheless, O my God, the request which I have to make. I have not this repentance which I ought to pray thee to accept: I think only of exciting it in my heart: or rather, I cast myself at thy footstool, to beseech thee thyself to produce it. I find myself as little in a situation to feel it now, as in the other moments of my life. I find by my experience, that something more is requisite than the opportunities and the outward helps for true and sincere conversion. It is necessary that thy hand should display itself, and that. thy spirit should act. It is necessary in my case, that thou shouldst translate me from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of the mar

me.

vellous light of thy dear Son. It is necessary that thou enlighten my mind, that thou renew my heart, that thou convert me, and that thou change

Refuse me not this wonderful effect of thy mercy and of thy power, compassionate Redeemer of men. Come bind within me this strong man who has so peaceably held his dominion. Come pluck him from the dominion of this heart, which has been subject to him, and of which he has had such absolute disposal during all the course of my life. Disdain not to render thyself the master of it, and to subject all its thoughts to thy will. Above all, Lord, refuse not to awaken therein the divine flames of thy love, and to grant, that instead of sighing as it has until now for earthly advantages, it may now sigh only for thee; seeking only on one hand to please thee, and on the other to possess thee.

I am very unworthy, O my God, to obtain so precious a favor, but it is not unworthy of thee to grant it me.

The abundance of thy mercy supplies all that is wanting in the dispositions of my heart, which might induce thee to grant it me: and moreover, if I could not be acceptable of myself, I may become so by being united to thy holy Son, to that dear object of thy love who ever receives into communion with him those who seek him with faith and with confidence.

Grant me, LORD, on this account, what I now desire, and for this reason hear the prayer which he hath commanded me to offer, and which I have ground to hope he will attend with his intercession.

Our Father, &c.

CHAPTER X.

WHAT A DYING PERSON SHOULD DO FOR HIS CONVERSION.

There is, therefore, nothing that a sinner should neglect on these occasions. But shall it be said, What must be done, and what are the particular pains we are to take? This it will be well to notice more distinctly. He should, then, in the first place, call to mind all he has done in his life, and compare it with what he should have done. If he well considers this thought for a few moments, he will clearly see two things: the first, that he has absolutely done nothing, either to serve God, or for his own salvation. For truly, the few resolutions he has made, and which remain unexecuted, and the few outward actions he has performed, unattended by any inward principle which should impart to them all their value, - all this, I say, appears to him less than nothing in comparison with what his duty and interest should oblige him to do. In the second place, he will see clearly and distinctly that he has committed an infinite number of sins of all descriptions: sins of omission and of commission; of thought, of word and of deed; sins of ignorance,

of infirmity and of malice; sins known and deliberate, as well as sins unknown and unpremeditated; secret sins, as well as public and scandalous; sins against God, against his neighbor, and against himself. Hence he draws two conclusions : First, that his conduct has been precisely what it would have been even if perhaps he might have been persuaded there was no God, or that this God has no regard for the actions of men, or that though they displease him, he is neither sufficiently powerful nor just to punish them. With whichever of these ideas he might have been possessed, what could he have done other than what he has done? Second, that he has done all the same as if he had not cared to perish, and . as if to him it had been indifferent whether he were eternally happy or eternally miserable. Nothing doubting these truths, he will find no difficulty in persuading himself of the following:

I. That nothing could be more brutish, and more opposed to all the lights of reason and good sense than his past conduct. For, indeed, how could he act more directly contrary to the most common notions, than in neglecting, as he has done, an interest so great as that of his salvation, in deigning to do nothing to procure so great and so considerable a blessing as that which God offers us in his Gospel, and which he is prepared