DOMESTIC.

No event probably, since the revolution has produced so deep an emotion in the public mind, as the arrival of the Marquis de La Fayette. Besides the warm and universal sentiment of gratitude with which he is welcomed to our shores, his presence awakens anew in our minds, the remembrance of those great and good men with whom he was associated in the revolution, and causes that eventful period, with all its painful and all its proud recollections, to live afresh in the minds of the whole American people.

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The Marquis arrived in the packet ship Cadmus at the New York quarantine on the morning of the 15th of August, accompanied by his son, George Washington La Fayette and M. Le Vasseur. though our readers will have been made acquainted with his movements, through other sources, yet we wish to preserve a brief sketch of his visit on our pages. On his arrival the Marquis landed on Staten Island, by invitation of the Vice President of the United States, (it being Sabbath morning,) and became his guest for the day. The following morning in pursuance of arrangements by the committee, he embarked in the steam boat Chancellor Livingston for the city, attended by the Committe of the Corporation, by Naval and Military Officers, Members of the Cincinnati &c. and by a fleet of steamboats crowded with passengers, and richly dressed and decorated, except the Chancellor Livingston which bore only the flags of France and the United States. The Cadmus also, elegantly dressed, and towed by steamboats, formed a part of the gay and novel exhibition. Having been saluted by discharges of cannon as he passed up the bay, the Marquis was landed at Castle Garden, amidst the shouts of an immense concourse of people. From the Battery, escorted by the military, he proto the City Hall through Broadway, which was crowded almost to its centre, and the houses on each side filled to their highest stories with spectators. We need not detail the formalities of his reception by the civil authorities, nor the various exhibitions and rejoicings which took place during his stay in the city. He left New York on the 20th for Boston, attended by a large number of citizens; and by a splended military escort which accompanied him to the Connecticut line where he was received by a troop of Connecticut Horse Artillery.

The same proofs of affection and respect which were shown him at New York, he

meets with wherever he comes. Not only in the cities and villages through which he passes do thousands hail his arrival, but as he passes along the country, the people crowd to the road side-all anxious to greet him as the guest and benefactor of the nation;-aged men, the venerable remnant of the army of the revolution, pressing forward to take him by the hand, and to speak of scenes which will never grow faint in their minds; and people in middle life, and children, to catch a glimpse of the man with whose name they have been made familiar in the nursery.

In all this there is nothing of the adulation of a populace servilely accustomed to do homage to an earthly potentate. It is the honest, inartificial, and warm expression of the gratitude of a free people to a public benefactor. And it is an expression which we love to witness; not simply because it discharges a public duty, but because, while it refutes the proverbial imputation that republics are ungrateful, it strengthens that love of liberty from which it arises. Like the generous sympathy lately manifested for the Greeks, it cherishes the purest feelings, and confirms the best habits of the nation-feelings and habits in which our free institutions have their surest safeguard.

The Legislature of the State of NewYork was convened at Albany on the 2nd day of August, agreeably to a proclamation by the Governor. The object of this extra session was to pass a law by which the choice of electors of President and Vice President of the United States, should be given to the people. The Senate on the second day of the session, passed a resolution that they were unconstitutionally convened, and therefore could not legislate. The House of Assembly also after several days spent in fruitless and not very magnanimous discussion, resolved "that no unexpected incident or unforeseen exigence had transpired" to justify the exercise of the executive prerogative in convening the legislature. On the 6th both houses adjourned.

The Governor in his message justifies himself on the ground that he acted in "deference to public sentiment" and to "legislative declarations" made at the last session; and also on the ground that the enactment of the contemplated law at the next regular session would be too late for the approaching election of President and Vice President. This extraordinary ses. sion has occasioned much excitement and much editorial discussion in the State.

We believe that when peace of mind in the hour of death arises from

Piety.

DANGEROUS conclusions are frequently drawn from false premises. This remark is strikingly exemplified by the deception which is probably often occasioned by laying too great stress on the manner in which men die. If one is calm and joyful in his sickness, and in a good degree free from terror as death approaches, the opinion is too common, that such a person is, without doubt, at peace with God. If another is fearful in the hour of death, a conclusion is hastily drawn against his piety. There is something unspeakably consoling in the triumph of the real christian when leaving the world; and this cherishes an inclination to believe every peaceful death to be an instance of genuine victory over the last enemy. As it is interesting to hear relations of such closing scenes as give cheering evidence of real religion, they are widely and frequently published. Hence the impression is extensive among certain classes of the community, that if a person dies without fear, it is a good indication of a safe and happy condition after death.

It is my present design to show, that a peaceful death is no sure evidence of piety; or that religious character cannot, in all cases be determined by the manner of dying. Vol. VI. No. 10.

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character of God, a resignation to his will, a reliance on Jesus Christ, and a desire to glorify God, it is an evidence of real holiness; but as there may be great peace of mind, and much apparent piety without this holiness, it is important to guard against a mistake so dangerous.

For the opinion already advanced, I offer the following reasons.

1. Other causes besides religion may excite the spirits, and pour peace into the bosom of the dying man. Some diseases, from their very nature cause the patient to feel secure and happy while they are preying upon his very vitals. Such is the consumption. Its victims frequently flatter themselves and others, with the hope of recovery, till they suddenly drop into eternity. So is it with regard to religion. Many while in sickness may feel as secure and as calm on the subject of religion, as when in health. They may converse with composure on death and eternity.

They feel no great pain of body or mind-do not realize their condi tion-and thus fall quietly into the grave, paralyzed by their disease.

In connexion with diseases, medicines are not unfrequently administered in the last hours or days of life, which lead to a mistake as to the actual state of the mind. Instances are not unknown, in which a patient has manifested a quiet submission in

death, when it was evident that he was made insensible to his situation by soporific drugs. Others, again, when under the operation of stimulants, have had the liveliness and cheerfulness of their spirits, mistaken for spiritual joy. It is well known that persons in health, when under the influence of ardent spirits, are often free and forward to converse on religion; and many, who sneer at religion when sober, will take pains when partially intoxicated to manifest their zeal in religion. It is very natural to suppose, and fact corroborates the supposition, that the same effect may be produced in the dying man, by stimulating medicines; and these means may lead to very erroneous apprehensions as to his spiritual condition.

It is well known that a fever often produces a high state of excitement in which, if it be short of delirium, the patient seems raised above himself. His feelings are strong-his imagination lively-his affections ardent his sensibility to danger taken awayand his conversation indicative of a happy state of mind. Present religion before such a person, and he may seize it with the ardor and zeal of a saint. In some well known instances of this nature in which the patients, on being restored to health, have been found, to be totally insensible to every thing which passed during their sickness, and could not recollect, and would not acknowledge a single expression of their conversation. Now had these persons died, they might have been considered as extraordinary examples of pious joy and christian triumph, when in fact, this excitement was but an excitement of the spirits produced by medicine or by disease.

The patient is frequently made to look at death without terror, by the excruciating pain under which he labors. In the agony of disease he talks of death as a familiar and pleasing friend. So far from fearing to meet it, he is calm on its approach, and even desires its relief. Of such,

Job speaks in a very striking manner; "Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul, which long for death, but it cometh not, and dig for it more than for hid treasures, which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad when they can find the grave.”

Others, whose diseases appeared to be desperate, have seemed to be greatly exercised with religious considerations, and have calmly professed joy and peace ir believing-have been willing to depart-have been confident of future happiness; and yet these very individuals, on recovering, have manifested no regard to Christ, or to his worship. On the contrary, have become most vile and abandoned. But had they died in the midst of their joys, their friends would probably have consoled themselves with a confident assurance of their happy state beyond the grave.

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There is a class of men, though perhaps not very frequently found, who appear calm and resigned in their last hours, from bracing themselves against their fate with a feeling differing little from stubbornness. have met with such instances and presume others have likewise. being called to visit a sea captain in his last sickness, I uniformly found him cheerful, and apparently willing to die. As I knew that he had been a careless, profane man, his resignation and coolness seemed unaccountable. The morning that he died, I said, "my friend, you seem fast approaching the grave"-" I am ready to go," he replied. "You feel ready and willing to die, then, do you

Perfectly." "I have noticed you seem contented and happy. I have noticed too, that you are sustained by some other principle than my religion. Will you now honestly tell me why you are so calm, so resigned to the will of God, and so ready to die ?" He took my hand, pressed it, and replied with emphasis, " because I cant help myself! I must die, and cannot escape my fate-therefore I am resigned!" In a few hours he

was dead; and I cannot but add, that though this man lived a wicked life, and though his stubbornness sustained him through sickness, without the aid of any other principle, yet on account of his peaceful death, his friends cherished the hope that he had made a happy exchange of worlds.

Another class may be mentioned who have apparently died in peace after a life of negligence and sin. Such examples not unfrequently occur. They live without prayer, without the Bible, without observing the Sabbath. Their lives indicate no seriousness. They are, on the contrary, rash, violent, profane, or intemperate and yet, these very persons, in their last sickness are zealous on the subject of religion-profess to have experienced a change of heart are full of joy-rise above the fears of death, and leave the world in peace. Though the case of the penitent thief will here be recollected, yet presumption itself can scarcely form a favorable conclusion in most instances of this nature. Without a holy life, it is scarcely possible to give satisfactory evidence of piety in the hour of death.

2. Many, who pass their lives relying on common morality for salvation, finish their days in security and peace. They have long been accustomed to think that a change of heart is unnecessary, and have built a strong hope on the supposed integrity of their lives. This sears the conscience, benumbs the moral feelings, and destroys their conception of guilt, and of their need of a Saviour. The Holy Spirit leaves them to believe a lie. Their language is, "God has dealt kindly by me in this world, and I trust he will in another. I rely on my own integrity of life, and the goodness of God; and I am ready to depart at any moment when he shall please to call me." The cases are painfully common, in which such persons actually leave the world without terror, and apparently in calmness and resignation.

We should naturally suppose that those who believe none will be excluded from heaven, would frequently be known to die with satisfaction, and even with triumph. They appear satisfied with living-to love a Saviour who saves all-to be benevolent in a degree towards man, and to be freed from all trouble. Allowing that any one can really believe in universal salvation-that he believes death to be the end of all evil to the sinner as well as to the saint, we see no reason why he might not die in peace, with vivid hopes of happiness

after death.

That a false hope can give peace in death, cannot be questioned. Some have been visionaries through life. They were convinced that they were christians, by a voice from heaven declaring their sins forgiven, by a revelation, by a faculty of prophecying, by something extraordinary attending their supposed conversion, or by any means except a holy life. Hence they feel such an assurance, that they think it would be a sin to doubt their own piety. Let such a confidence be cherished through life, and where is the wonder, that such persons should leave the world with exultation, and even with songs of victory? Such a belief, though founded in complete selfishness, might impart joy in a prospect so cheering.

We know that even martyrdom itself may be endured for the cause of christianity, and yet the heart be totally destitute of real religion. There was once a time when the belief prevailed, that martyrdom was a certain passport to glory. We can easily believe that under such assurance, multitudes would stand ready to sacrifice their lives. The statement amounted to this: If you will submit to the axe, the stake, or the wild beasts, you will assuredly be in parHeaven is ceradise in a proment. tain.' Luder such an impression, rushed formultiades voluntarily ward, eager for martyrdom; and doubtless many sacrificed their lives, from a principle of entire selfishness.

Paul seems to allude to this belief among the early christians, when he says, "Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." It is evident that such a belief and disposition would enable men to lay down their lives from motives wholly selfish.

Several circumstances might be mentioned from Church History, which show that there was an inclination to court persecution, and to glory in sufferings and death, especially during the reign of Trajan, when Arrius Antonius persecuted with the most unrelenting fury. "The whole body of christians, wearied with constant hardships, presented themselves before the tribunal. He ordered a few of them to execution, and said to the rest," Miserable people, if you choose death, you may find precipices and halters enough." I am willing to believe, adds the Historian, that the christians meant to disarm the persecutor by the sight of their numbers." Even Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, an eminently pious man, when ordered by Trajan to Rome to be thrown to the wild beasts, seemed to glory in the opportunity of becoming a martyr. "The subject of his letter to the Roman christians was to entreat them not to use any method for his deliverance. He had the prize of martyrdom before him, and he was unwilling to be robbed of it." The Historian proceeds to state, very judiciously, the improper motives which influenced the minds of some, and which infected the minds even of good men. Yet I have some doubt whether all this flame strong and sincere as it unquestionably was, had not something mixed with it by no means of so pure a kind. Ought not the Roman christians to endeavour to save Ignatius' life by all honest means? Has any man a right to hinder others from attempting to save his life? Was not his desire of martyrdom excessive? If it was wrong, it was doubtless a mistake of his judgment. I fear the example of Ignatius did

Truly God is good to Israel, even to such as are of a clean heart. But as for me, my feet were almost gone, my steps had well nigh slipped. For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For there are no bands in their death; but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other men; neither are they plagued like other men." The expression, "There are no bands in their death," we understand to be equivalent to saying, that they come to their end without any peculiar distress. They die as they have lived. Instead of being distressed with terrors of conscience, or with fearful apprehensions of future misery, they have a quiet and peaceful departure from the world. Of such Job says, "They spend their days in wealth, and in a moment go down to the grave;" i. e. They passed their lives in prosperity, secure from the fears of death, and there was nothing in their manner of dying to indicate their dreadful condition. If, indeed, it be not the general character of the irreligious, that "there are no bands in their death," yet it is so frequently the case, that we cannot determine their character, simply by the manner