abandoned himself to black despair, and seemed resolved to die. For some time before his death, his countenance would suddenly change, and be very horrid to look upon; he himself was conscious of it, and would go to the glass, and would then turn and say to his wife, 'Now, look at me-now will you believe?' In a short time, he was confined to his bed, and was visited by several ministers and others, (and among the rest by the gentleman :o whom the writer is indebted for this awful memoir;) but their admonitions and prayers seemed to be fruitless After this, he one day feigned himself asleep, and Mrs. Dean and her companion, that he might not be disturbed, left the room. Perceiving that they were gone, he put forth all his strength, and rolled himself on the floor; on hearing the noise, they instantly returned, and, fearful to relate, found him dead."

6. FRANCIS SPIRA.

"Will toys amuse when medicine cannot cure?
When spirits ebb, when life's enchanting scenes
Fade in the view, and vanish from the sight-
Will toys amuse? No! thrones will then be toys,
And earth and skies seem dust upon the scale!"

FRANCIS SPIRA was a man of wealth and considerable mental acquisitions-at once intelligent and eloquent. Attracted by the fame of Luther, and of the principles of the reformed religion, he laboured during six years as a preacher of evangelical doctrine. This course subjected him to persecution; but Spira was not sufficiently well-grounded in the truth to contemplate without emotion such consequences of the opinions he had adopted. He shrank from the test to which his position exposed him; he renounced his heresy, condemned his new tenets, and once more acknowledged the doctrines of the

Church of Rome. By a public act, at which two thousand persons were present, he made his recantation; but his internal agony was fearful. He fainted away immediately after the performance of the ceremony, and thenceforth became a stranger to peace.

Matthew Gribaldo, a civilian of Padua, Spira's native city, and Henry Scrimger, a professor at Genoa, have given descriptions of Spira's mental tortures. He was seized with sickness, declared his disease to be incurable, and burst forth into such exclamations as these: "Who can succour a soul oppressed by a sense of sin, and by the wrath of God? It is Jesus Christ alone who must be the Physician, and the Gospel is the only antidote."

Spira was continually calling for water to quench his burning thirst, and imploring some one to shorten his days. He eloquently described his misery; exhibited to the bystanders the crime he had committed against the Gospel of Christ, still refusing all comfort, and saying, "My sin is greater than the mercy of God. I have denied Christ voluntarily and against my convictions. I feel that he hardens me, and will allow me no hope." Sometimes he declared himself a castaway, "like Judas," and sometimes he wished that his days could be shortened, and he be suffered to depart to the dwelling of the unbelieving, which he said he deserved. He avowed, that there was no room within him for anything besides torment; and shouted out, "It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God," adding at another time, "I feel the weight of his wrath burning like the pains of hell within me, and pressing on my conscience with an anguish which cannot be described Verily, despair is in itself a hell.

"I know not what else to say," was his language, "than that I am one of those whom God has threatened to tear asunder. O, the cursed day! O, the cursed day! Would

I had never been at Venice!" The priest endeavoured to cast out the devil which was, he said, within him, but the effort was vain. Equally vain were all attempts to lead him to receive the sacrament at the hands of his confessor. He continually desired to die, and referred to himself as an illustration of the Scripture, "They shall desire to die, yet death shall flee from them." He warned those around him of the danger of denying Christ: exhorting them to seek continually the glory of God, and not to be afraid of legates, inquisitions, prisons, or any kind of death; often urging upon them the passage, "Whosoever loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." His anxiety was to demonstrate to his friends, that all these convictions were not the hallucinations of · frenzy, but the workings of a clear-sighted though most agonized mind. In vain did some of his companions urge upon him that his language was not that of a hardened heart. "I am only," said he, "like the rich man, who, though he was in hell, was anxious that his brethren should escape torment. Judas, after betraying his Master, was compelled to own his sin, and to declare the innocence of Christ, and it is neither new nor singular that I do the same. The mercy of Christ is a strong rampart against the wrath of God; but I have demolished that bulwark with my own hands."

When his friends began to say farewell to him, he avowed to one of them, that he felt his heart full of cursing, hatred, and blasphemy against God. The next day he attempted suicide. Refusing food, which he spat out when offered to him, he at length died miserably, amidst all the terrors of one forsaken of God. A spectator of this scene was Vergerio, who afterwards became an eminent bishop in the cause of the reformation, and who traced his most lasting impressions to this awful scene.

The remarks of Calvin upon this occurrence are worthy

of transcription: "May the Lord Jesus confirm our hearts in the full and sincere belief of his own Gospel, and keep our tongues in the uniform confession of him, that as we now join in one song with angels, we may at length enjoy together with them the blessed delights of the heavenly kingdom."

7. A YOUNG WOMAN.

"Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor;
Part with it as with money, sparing; pay
No moment, but in purchase of its worth;

And what its worth? Ask death-beds; they can tell.
Part with it as with life, reluctant; big

With holy hope of nobler time to come;

Time higher aimed, still nearer the great mark

Of men and angels-virtue more Divine."-YOUNG.

SEVERAL of the preceding narratives show how awful is the hour of death to those who deny the Lord who bought them. But it is not those only who advance thus far in iniquity, that feel the bitterness of death. To many who have borne the sacred name of Christian, the hour of dissolution is an hour of dismay, and would be so to every one who has reached that solemn period, negligent of the great salvation, if the soul were sensible of its own state, and awake to the contemplation of eternal realities. Let the young and careless seriously read the impressive account that follows, and while they read it, think of their latter end.

Bathed in tears, a girl came, about three months ago, to tell me that her sister was dying, and wished much to see me. The poor woman, who was 'arrived at life's tremendous verge,' was about thirty years of age; her circumstances were lowly, but her mind was better informed than that of most in her rank. She had been educated at a Sunday school, and having a remarkably

good voice, had attended the chapel with the singers till her marriage. At this period, she not only knew much of her Bible, but also gave some pleasing symptoms of a change of mind. But alas! she gave her hand to a young man who was destitute of the fear of God, and who became a snare to her. How many that in youth promise fair to be the followers of Jesus, are ruined by improper marriages! Oppressed with domestic cares. poor Mary now neglected even an occasional attendance on the means of grace. She had run well, but sin deceived her. Daily misery however preyed on a constitution at all times delicate. A dropsy threatened her with death. No sooner was she confined to the bed of affliction, than she recollected the truths which once she took delight in learning. She remembered God and was troubled;' and her neglect of those things which, she well knew, belonged to her eternal peace, filled her mind with anguish.

"I had been with her the day before; how bitterly did she then lament her conduct! How hard she found the way of the transgressor! I reminded her of what St. John says 'If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father.' She seemed a little encouraged to expect mercy; we engaged in prayer, and parted. But now she was evidently dying. As I entered the room, I beheld a face distorted with pain, and heard an exclamation, distressing enough to pierce any heart, 'O! I cannot die:—I want to see his face! Never did I enter so fully into the importance of Balaam's prayer, 'Let me die the death of the righteous; and let my last end be like his.' I asked her whose face she wished to see. Her reply was, 'The reconciled face of Jesus.'

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'Have you no hope of an interest in Christ?' I irquired.

"No, I have no hope; I am lost; I cannot die ""

"How I longed for some careless people whom I knew,