THE DYING PROFESSOR.BY JOHN ANGELL 'JAMES.
" It is appointed unto all men once to die : " There is noexemption, even for believers, from this decree. They aredelivered from the sting of death, but not from its stroke ; —still, in one sense, they conquer, like their divine Lord, inbeing conquered. " If ever Christianity," says Mr. Hall,*' appears in its power, it is when it erects its trophies onthe TOMB ; when it takes up its votaries where the worldleaves them, and fills the breast with immortal hopes in dy-ing moments." Christ triumphed for his saints, by his owndeath, and he is continually renewing the victory in them,amidst all the sufferings and decay of their own dissolution.This is beautifully illustrated in the subject of the presentchapter; in which we are to contemplate the Christian'stermination of her profession on earth, and see her finishingher course with joy. I shall not exhibit to my readers anideal scene, but lay before them one of those glorious andblissful realities, which are continually occurring in the dyingchamber of behevers, that border-land which connects theregions of earth and heaven, and where the darkest scenesof the one are frequently irradiated by the reflected glory of the other.Mrs. P. had been a member of the church under my pas-toral oversight about ten years, and was one of many, whoPROFESSOR. 315never cost her pastor's heart a sigh, till he lost her. Lovelyin person, gentle and affectionate in her disposition, she addeda lustre to her consistency as a Christian, by all that usuallyinterests us in the general character. Tried much, andoften, in the furnace of affliction, her faith, more preciousthan gold that perisheth, was found unto the praise andhonour, and glory of Jesus Christ. At length her last sick-ness came on in the form of a lingering consumption. Itfound her the happy wife of an affectionate and devoted hus-band, and the fond mother of a son of the age of twelve years,and two daughters, one ten, and the other eight. Possessingsuch ties to life, she was called to submit, amidst trying cir-cumstances, to the stroke of death. Her profession, alwayslike a clear and steady light, now shone forth with a beauty,that made her departure resemble a glorious sun-set, after acloudless day. Amidst the alternations usually produced bythe flattering illusions of her disorder, she was never elatedby hope, nor depressed by fear, but smiled on her physician,whether he spoke of recovery or death. However lan-guishing with weakness, or racked by pain, or harrassed by