from gross sins: but, omitting these unpleasant recollections, we are at least certain that his general habits and companions during a considerable part of his life were not such as a strictly consistent Christian would have chosen, because they were not such as could in any way conduce to his spiritual comfort or improvement. Dr. J. was indeed called in the usual course of Providence to "live in the world," but it was his duty so to have lived in it "as not of it ;" and with the high sense which he uniformly entertained of religion, and the vast influence which he had justly acquired in society, his conduct and example would have been of the greatest service in persuading men to a holy as well as a virtuous life, to a cordial and complete self-dedication to God, as well as to a general decorum and purity of conduct.

It is certain that in reflecting upon his past life he did not view it as having been truly and decidedly Christian. He even prays in his dying hours that God would "pardon his late conversion;" thus evidencing not simply the usual humility and contrition of every genuine Christian, but, in addition to this, a secret consciousness that his heart had never before been entirely "right with God."

Had Johnson survived this period of his decisive "conversion," we might have expected to have seen throughout his conduct that he had indeed become "a new creature in Christ Jesus." His respect for religion, and his general excellence of character, could not perhaps have admitted of much visible change for the better; but in heavenly-mindedness, in love and zeal for the souls of men, in deadness to the world and to fame, in the choice of books and companions, and in the exhibition of all those spiritual graces which belong peculiarly to the Christian nature, we might and must have beheld a marked improvement. Instead of being merely the Seneca of the English nation, he might possibly have become its Saint Paul; and would

doubtless in future have embodied his moral injunctions, not in the cold form of ethical philosophy, or even in the generalities of the Christian religion, but in an ardent love to God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ; in a union to the Redeemer and a dependence upon that Holy Spirit who is the Enlightener and Sanctifier. That such a supposition is not visionary, may be proved even from the meagre accounts afforded by a spectator who would of course be inclined rather to soften down than to give prominence to any thing which might be construed into "fanaticism." We learn then from this witness, that in point of fact there was already a marked alteration in Dr. Johnson's language upon religion, as instead of spending his time upon barren generalities, "he talked often about the necessity of faith in Jesus." That of which Dr. Johnson spoke thus earnestly and often, must doubtless have appeared to him as of the utmost importance; and we have to lament-if indeed any dispensation of Providence may be lawfully lamented-that Johnson. had not lived to check the Pelagianism and Pharisaism of his age, by proclaiming "often," and with all the weight of his authority, that "faith in the sacrifice of Jesus is necessary, beyond all good works whatever, for the salvation of mankind."

It will of course be readily allowed, that the constitutional melancholy of this great man might have had much influence in causing this religious depression; but whatever may have been the proximate cause, the affliction itself may still be viewed as performing the office of parental correction to reclaim his relapses, and teach him the hatefulness and folly of sin. But without speculating upon either the final or the efficient cause, the medium through which that cause operated was evidently an indistinctness in his views respecting the nature of the Redeemer's atonement; an indistinctness common to Dr. Johnson with no small class of moralists and learned men. He believed generally

in the sacrifice of Christ, but he knew little of its fulness and its freeness, and he was unable to appropriate it to his own case. He was perhaps little in the habit of contemplating the Son of God as "a great HighPriest, who can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities," and who is graciously interceding on our behalf. The character of the Almighty as a reconciled Father and Friend, with whom he was to have daily "communion and fellowship," was less prominent in his thoughts than those attributes which render him "a consuming fire." He feared and respected religion rather than loved it, and by building his structure for many years on a self-righteous foundation, rendered the whole fabric liable to be overthrown by the first attack of an accusing conscience.

In reply to any general inference to be derived from these remarks, it may be urged, that Dr. Johnson's was a peculiar and exempt case; and that his painful feeling of sin, and his consequent dissatisfaction with his own righteousness, were rather the effect of his natural malady than of any peculiarly correct ideas upon religion. But even admitting this to have been the fact, the inference is still nearly the same; for who can assert that either his understanding or his character has been superior to Dr. Johnson's, and that therefore he may be justly sustained in death by a support which this eminent man-from whatever cause-found unavailing. If the greatest moralist of his age and nation was obliged at length to seek repose in the same free mercy which pardoned the thief upon the cross, who that knows his own heart will henceforth venture to glory in himself? The conscience may indeed be seared; we may not feel as Johnson felt; we may be ignorant both of God and of ourselves; and thus, for want of knowing or believing our spiritual danger, may leave the world with a false tranquillity, and enter the presence of our Creator" with a lie in our right hand." All this, however, is our misfortune,

and ought not to be our boast; for if our minds were as religiously enlightened, and our hearts as correctly impressed as Dr. Johnson's, we could obtain hope only where he obtained it, by "faith in the sacrifice of Jesus."

The case, however, of Dr. Johnson is not an exempt case; for what has been the feeling of true Christians in every age, but one of a similar, though perhaps less marked and conspicuous kind?

The devout and eminent George Herbert remarked upon his death-bed, "I have nothing to present to God but sin and misery; but the first is pardoned, and a few hours will now put an end to the latter." His friend, like Dr. Johnson's, began to remind him of "his many acts of mercy," but this holy man ventured not to put any trust in them for his salvation. "They be good works," said he, "if they be sprinkled with the blood of Christ, but not otherwise." He did not speak slightly upon the subject of good works; he felt their importance and necessity; and doubtless concurred with that kindred spirit, Richard Hooker, in his well-known remark, "We acknowledge a dutiful necessity of doing well, but the meritorious dignity of doing well we utterly renounce." No inference there

fore can be more wide of that intended to be deduced in the present essay, than that the retrospect of a holy life is of little importance upon a death-bed. On the contrary, good men in every age have felt it to be a high consolation, and a source of the most unbounded gratitude to God, if they have been enabled by his grace to maintain a holy and exemplary deportment; but as the meritorious cause of human redemption, as the plea upon which our hopes are to be founded for eternity, nothing assuredly can be more unscriptural and fallacious than self-dependence and desert.

Dr. John Donne, the proverbially pious satirist and poet of the sixteenth century, remarked upon his death-bed, in nearly the same words with his friend.

George Herbert, "Though of myself I have nothing to present to God but sin and misery, yet I know he looks upon me, not as I am in myself, but as I am in my Saviour."

With the names of Donne and Herbert is intimately and pleasingly associated that of the meek and learned Hooker; and who that has heard of the eminently religious, and amiable life of this revered man, but remembers also his deeply penitential confession in the hour of death?" I have lived to see that this world is made up of perturbations, and I have long been preparing to leave it, and gathering comfort for the dreadful hour of making my account with God, which I now apprehend to be near. And though I have by his grace loved him in my youth, and feared him in mine. age, and labored to have a conscience void of offence to him, and to all men; yet if thou, O Lord, be extreme to mark what I have done amiss, who can abide it? And therefore where I have failed, Lord, show mercy to me; for I plead not my righteousness, but the forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for His merits who died to purchase a pardon for penitent sinners.” It was this plea of free grace that enabled him to say with his last breath, "God hath heard my daily petitions; for I am at peace with all men, and he is at peace with me; and from which blessed assurance I feel that inward joy, which this world can neither give nor take from me.'

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After mentioning Hooker, we ought not to pass over that other great apologist of the church of England, Bishop Jewel, from whom we hear similar confessions and anticipations. He was not, he said, afraid to die, but assigned as his reason, not the goodness of his past life, though it had been almost inimitably good, but that he had" a gracious Lord," adding, "there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness.-Christ is my righteousness."

But these persons, it may be said, were divines, and