their heart ſtruggling with convulſive throbs; pain inſuperable, throbbing through every pulſe; and innumerable darts of agony tranſſitting their conſcience.
If this be the end of the ungodly; My ſoul come not thou into their ſecret, unto their aſſembly mine honour be not thou united! Oh how awfully accompliſhed is that prediction of inpired wiſdom! ſin, though ſeemingly ſweet in the commiſſion, in the iſſue biteth like a ſerpent, and ſtingeth like an adder.
Happy diſſolution, were this the period of their woes. But alas, all their tribulations, are only the beginning of ſorrows; one ſmall drop of that cup of trembling, which is mingled for their future portion.———No fooner has the laſt pang diſlodged the reluctant ſoul: but they are hurried into the preſence of an injured angry God: not under the conducting care of beneficent angels, but expoſed to the inſults of curſed ſpirits who lately tempted them, now upbraiding them, and will for ever torment them.———Who can conceive their confuſion and diſtreſs; when they ſtand guilty and inexcuſable, before their incenſed Creator? They are received with frowns: The God that made them, has no mercy on them: The Prince of Peace, the Fountain of Felicity, rejects them with abhorrence, he conſigns them over to chains of darkneſs, and receptacles of deſpair, againſt the ſeverer doon, and more public infamy of the great day: Then all the phials
