LIBRARY 
 
 I'RINCETQN, N. J. 
 
 Divisio n .^ 
 
 No. Case, : /' ' ' 
 
 No, Shelf, -^Jf^ 
 
 SCB , 
 
 V. 10 
 
J^iitlttlfUfitl 
 
 l?^i>J3^y LkLl^iB^lB^ 
 
 v^ii)i[i,i 
 
 '^.#^^^ 
 
 '^Ts-mrTiqb 
 
 X, 
 
 
PERSUASIVES 
 
 EARLY PIETY, 
 
 INTERSPERSED AVITH 
 
 Suitable Prayers. 
 
 BY J. G. PIKE. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 And sold at their Depository, No. 150 Nassau-street, nrar the 
 City-Hall, New-York ; and by Agents of the Society, its 
 Branches, and Auxiliaries, in the principal cities and towna 
 in tiie United States. 
 
« J^X ^i ^ >yi '^^ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE. 
 
 1. Introductory Address to the young Reader, .... 7 
 
 2. The fallen, guilty, and ruined state of Man, .... 21 
 
 3. Some of the sins of youth enumerated, 51 
 
 4. The nature of real Religion briefly described, .... 86 
 
 5. Cautions against some delusive supports, on which 
 
 many rest their Hopes to their eternal Ruin, . . 97 
 
 6. The worth of the soul a reason for early Piety, . . 109 
 
 7. The importance of Religion further shown, by re- 
 
 ference to the counsel of the Most High, con- 
 tained in his Word, 121 
 
 8. The love of God and the Lord Jesus Christ, a rea- 
 
 sor for early Piet}', . 134 
 
 9. Early Piety peculiarly acceptable to God, and pe- 
 
 culiarly liououred by him, 153 
 
 10. The advantages of early Religion, 168 
 
 11. The pleasantness of early Piety, 202 
 
 12. The happy conclusion of a religious life a motive 
 
 for early Piety 214 
 
 13. The future happiness of the young Christian a 
 
 motive for early Piety, 230 
 
 14. No real good possessed by those who are destitute 
 
 of Religion, 245 
 
 15. The young sinner's ingratitude to God, and cruel- 
 
 ty to his own soul, in-gcd as reasons for em- 
 bracing Religion ia youth, 253 
 
 16. The vanity of youth, and the uncertainty of life, 
 
 reasons for the immediate choice of early Piety, 260 
 
Iv CONTENTS. 
 
 17. The sorrows and dangers that attend the way of 
 
 transgressors, a reason for the choice of early 
 Religion 267 
 
 18. The terrors and fearful consequences of death and 
 
 judgment, to the unconverted, a reason for 
 early Piety, 283 
 
 19. The eternal ruin of the ungodly a motive for the 
 
 early choice of Religion, 292 
 
 20. The young Reader entreated to make his lasting 
 
 choice, 305 
 
 21. Twenty objections to early Piety briefly stated and 
 
 answered, 321 
 
 22. The young Reader further urged to make no de- 
 
 lay in giving himself up to God, 340 
 
 23. Brief addresses to several classes of persons; and 
 
 a few directions to the young Christian, .... 317 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Thb sole design of this little volume, is to urge 
 the young to yield themselves to God. It interferes 
 not with the minor distinctions that divide the fol- 
 lowers of the Saviour J but inculcates that heartfelt 
 Religion, whose importance they all unite in acknow 
 led gin g. 
 
 The Author of the book has no expectation of its 
 being applauded for elegance of language, or the 
 beauties of imagination. He has not written seeking 
 human applause as his reward ; for what is human 
 applause ? the applause of a world whose duration 
 is a span ; — of a world that will soon vanish away 
 like smoke ; — of a world whose very existence may 
 be next to forgotten by the soul, in the distant and 
 interminable scenes of eternity. The minister of the 
 gospel meets with the best commendation, not when 
 the discourse he may have delivered from the pulpit 
 or the pres5 is much admired, much applauded, but 
 when the sinner becomes dissatisfied with himself 
 and his pursuits; when the prodigal says, "I will 
 arise and go to my father;" when the penitent weeps 
 in secret over the crimes that have been brought to 
 his review. Such applause the writer covets, and for 
 such he does not hesitate to pray. He freely con- 
 fesses, that it is his desire to do something for pro- 
 1* 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 moting the kingdom of Christ beyond the narrow 
 limits of his own congregation, and the confined 
 space of a few short years. 
 
 In composing the subsequent pages, it has been 
 the Author's wish to imitate the serious plainness 
 which prevails in the writings of some of those emi- 
 nent men, who lived a century and a half, or two 
 centuries ago, rather than the more polished but 
 much less impressive manner of the present age. 
 Gospel truth is now often held forth in so refined a 
 style, that the oflfenoe of the cross ceases, the force 
 of divine truth is lost ; it is little better than the 
 mere wisdom of words, and has not much more ef- 
 fect than sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. 
 
 How far the writer of this little book has succeeded 
 in his aim, must now be left to the decision of God. 
 If he deign to employ it as an instrument of advanc- 
 ing his cause, it will be successful; but if he have 
 nothing for it to do, the sooner it shall sink into 
 oblivion the better. 
 
INTRODDCfwrir address to l^irOUNG READER. 
 
 § 1 . My dear young friend, if a person could 
 rise from the dead to speak to you, could come 
 from the other world to tell you what he had 
 seen there, how attentively would you listen to 
 his discourse, and how much would you be af- 
 fected by it ! Yet a messenger from the dead 
 could not tell you more important things, than 
 those to which I now beseech you to attend. I 
 come to entreat you to give your heart to God ; 
 to follow the divine Redeemer 7iow ; and to 
 walk in the pleasant path of early piety. O that 
 I could, with all the fervour of a dying man, 
 beseech you to attend to your only great con- 
 cerns ! for of how little consequence is this poor 
 transient world to you, who have an eternal 
 world to mind ! — It is not to a trifle that I call 
 your attention, but to your life, your all, your 
 eternal all, your God, your Saviour, your heav- 
 en, your every thing that is worth a thought or a 
 wish. Do not let a stranger be more anxious 
 than yourself for your eternal welfare. If you 
 have been thoughtless hitherto, be serious now. 
 It is time you were so. You have wasted years 
 enough. Think of Sir Francis Walsingham's 
 words ; " While we laugh all things are serious 
 around us. God is serious, who preserves us, 
 and has patience towards us ; Christ is serious, 
 who shed his blood for us ; the Holy Spirit is 
 serious, when he strives with us ; the whole crea- 
 
8 INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS 
 
 tion is serious in serving God and us ; all are 
 serious in another world ; how suitable then is 
 it for man to be serious ! and how can we be 
 gay and trifling ?" Do you smile at this grave 
 address, and say, this is the cant of enthusiasm ? 
 O, tiiink, that those who laughed at these solemn 
 truths, when the last hundred years began, now 
 laugh no more ! The friendly warning may be 
 neglected, and the truths of the bible disbeliev- 
 ed, but death and eternity will soon force on the 
 most careless heart, a deep conviction, that reli- 
 gion is the one thing needful. 
 
 Yes, my young friend, one thing is needful ; 
 so said the Lord of life ; needful to you, to me, 
 to all. 'I'he living neglect it, but the dead know 
 its value. Every saint in heaven feels the worth 
 oi^ religion, through partaking of the blessings to 
 vvhich it leads ; and every soul in hell knows its 
 value by its want. It is only on earth that tri- 
 riers are to be found ; and will you be one of 
 them ? God forbid ! 
 
 Read, I beseech you, this little book, with se- 
 rious prayer. Remember that it is your welfare 
 which is sought. I wish you to be happy here, 
 and when time is past, happy for ever. Fain 
 would I persuade you to seek a refuge in the 
 skies, and friends that never fail. I plead with 
 you a more important cause than was ever con- 
 ducted before an earthly judge. Not one which 
 concerns time only; but which concerns a long 
 eternity. Not one on which a little wealth or 
 reputation depends ; but one on which your 
 eternal poverty or eternal riches, eternal glory 
 or eternal shame, a smiling or a frowning God, 
 an eternal heaven or an eternal hell, are all de- 
 pending. And it is your cause I plead and not 
 
TO THE YOUNG READER. 9 
 
 my own ; and shall I plead your cause to your- 
 self in vain ? O my God, forbid that I should ! 
 
 I know, my youn^ friend, how apt we are 
 to read the most serious calls as if they were 
 mere formal thinp;s, of little more consequence 
 to us than the trifles recorded in a newspaper ; 
 but do not thus read this little book. Believe 
 me, I am in earnest with you ; and read, I en- 
 treat you, what follows, as a serious message 
 which I have from God for you. 
 
 Consider what will be your thoughts of the 
 advice here given you a hundred years hence. 
 Long before *hat time, you will have done with 
 this world for ever. Then your now vigorous 
 and yoLithful body will be turned to dust, and 
 your name probably forgotten upon earth ; yet 
 your immortal soul will be living in another 
 world, and far more sensible of joy or grief 
 than it can possibly be now. Then, my young 
 friend, what will you think of this friendly warn- 
 ing ? How happy will you be if you have fol- 
 lowed the advice it contains ! Fancy not that 
 it will be then forgotten. Calls and mercies 
 forgotten here must be remembered there, when 
 every sin is brought to the sinner's memory. If 
 now you think me over-earnest, you will not 
 then entertain the same opinion. If now you 
 slight this humble effort for promoting your sal- 
 vation, and carelessly, or contemptuously throw 
 this book aside, or read it and forget it, then, if 
 ten thousand worlds were yours, they would ap- 
 pear a little trifle, for another season of salva- 
 tion like that you now enjoy; and which, per- 
 haps, you now waste : but now is your day of 
 grace; then, another generation will have theirs. 
 
 Think again, that while you are reading this. 
 
10 INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS 
 
 thousands are rejoicing in heaven, that they, in 
 past years, attended to such earnest calls. Once 
 they were as careless as you may have been, but 
 divine grace disposed them to listen to the word 
 of life. They regarded the warnings addressed 
 to them ; they found salvation ; they are gone 
 to rest ; and now with what pleasure may they 
 recollect" the fervent sermon, or the little book, 
 that, under God, first awakened their attention, 
 and first impressed their hearts ! About one 
 hundred and fifty years ago, a gentleman went 
 into the shop of a Air. Boulter, a London book- 
 seller, to inquire for some plays. Mr. Boulter 
 told him he had none; but showed him Mr. 
 Flavel's treatise of " Keeping the Heart ;" and 
 assured him, that it would do him more good 
 than plays. 'J'he gentleman glancing a1 differ- 
 ent pages, said, "What a fanatic was he who 
 made this book !" jMr. Boulter assured him, he 
 had no cause to censure it so bitterly. He 
 bought it, but said he would not read it. " What 
 will you do with it then ?" said the friendly 
 bookseller. " I will tear and burn it," said he. 
 Mr. Boulter told him then, he should not have 
 it. Upon this, the gentleman promised to read 
 it. About a month after, he went again to the 
 shop, and spoke to this effect: "I most heartily 
 thank you for putting this book into my hands 
 — I bless God that moved you to do it — bless- 
 ed be God that ever I came into your shop!" 
 and then he bought a hundred more to give to 
 those who could not buy them. How much 
 happier, my young friend, is he now, than he 
 would have been if he had continued the same 
 thoughtless creature as he was when he entered 
 the bookseller's shop ! Now, though to us his 
 
TO THE YOUNG READER. 1 1 
 
 name is unknown, we have reason to believe li^ 
 forms one of the company above ; but had lie 
 continued to waste his fleeting years, he might, 
 in hopeless misery, have been wishing in vain 
 for those precious hours he had wasted on plays, 
 and romances, and novels. Had he slighted 
 Mr. Boulter's advice, he might now in hell have 
 been lamenting his folly. Yes, think that while 
 you are reading this little book, millions of 
 wretched souls, in utter darkness and despair, 
 are cursing that desperate madness, -which led 
 them to turn a deaf ear to such friendly warn- 
 ings, once addressed to them. O my young 
 friend, I beseech you, by the joys of saints in 
 heaven, and by the terrors of sinners in hell, 
 trifle not with this affectionate call ! 
 
 Consider further — if you were going a jour- 
 ney, you would make preparations for it. 
 Would you not, if going to travel only one or 
 two hundred miles P and were you thus far from 
 home, would not your thoughts be often there? 
 and if obstructions lay in the way, that threat- 
 ened to prevent your ever returning, w ould you 
 not exert all your skill and power to remove 
 them ? And are you indeed only a stranger and 
 traveller upon earth ? Are you only gojng for- 
 wards through a little span of time to an eternal 
 world ? And there to find an endless abode, 
 amidst the deepest sorrow or the most perfect 
 joy ? And do many things unite to hinder you 
 from reaching the kingdom of heaven ? Is this 
 the case? Indeed it is. And will you go 
 forward, thoughtless whither you are going? 
 Thoughtless of what awaits you on your en- 
 trance on that unseen world, that unseen, un-. 
 
12 INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS 
 
 known, endless world of joy unspeakable, or of 
 grief beyond expression. 
 
 Were your soul intrusted to another's care, 
 would you not complain of his cruelty, if you 
 saw one begg^ing- him to seek its happiness, and 
 yet perceived him careless whether you were 
 saved or lost? AVould you not cry out, " O un- 
 happy creature that I am, to have my eternal 
 all intrusted to a wretch so cruel, that he will 
 see me sink into the pit of destruction, to spend 
 a dreary eternity there, sooner than give himself 
 any care or concern about my eternal happi- 
 ness !" Would such be your complaint in this 
 case ? O, be not then, by carelessness, more 
 cruel to yourself! 
 
 While therefore, in what follows, I would dd- 
 dress you with affectionate earnestness, I once 
 more entreat you seriously to regard the plain, 
 but important truths I may present to you ; and 
 forgive me that I am not earnest enough, when 
 speaking to you on things of everlasting conse- 
 quence. Did we but feel the thousandth part ot 
 the worth of an immortal soul, I might abhor 
 myself for writing so coldly ; and you blush 
 and be confounded, at having ever needed 
 warning to seek its welfare. It is impossible to 
 be earnest enough with you : if you ever know 
 the worth of true piety you will be convinced 
 that it is. Did we see thousands asleep on the 
 brink of a precipice, and some every moment 
 falling and dying, could we too passionately 
 endeavour to awaken those not yet undone ? O 
 my young friend, if you have been a careless 
 trifler with the gospel of Christ, danger infinite- 
 ly worse, eternal danger threatens you ! Awake, 
 awake ! I beseech you, aw ake ! Awake, before it 
 
TO THE YOUNG READER. 13 
 
 is too late ! before eternity seals your doom ! 
 before God forgets to be gracious ! Awake ! as 
 in the sight of God I call on you, awake ! Act 
 not the sluggard's part ! say not a little more 
 sleep, a little more slumber ! Close not your 
 eyes to sleep in sin again ! lest 
 
 you should shortly feel. 
 
 The sleeper sleeps no more in hell. 
 
 Awake ! 1 beseech you, and begin to min<l that 
 one thin^, which is so needful to you ; that food 
 is not half so needful to the poor wretch perish- 
 ing" of hunger, nor help to him that is sinking 
 in the sea, or scorching in the flames ! Perhaps 
 all I urge to gain your attention is urged in 
 vain. And shall it be so ? Will you jUight 
 your God, and make your own destruction sure ? 
 Will you be a more cruel enemy to yourself 
 than even devils themselves could possibly be 
 to you ? Alas ! if you will, whar must be your 
 condition soon ? But let me iicpe better of you, 
 and offer you one reque&t — look up to God, 
 and join with me in the prayer that follows; 
 and then beg his merry on yourself. 
 
 § 2, A rRAYBR FCR THE DIVINE BLESSIN(J ON THIS BOOK. 
 
 Ever blessed and most gracious God, thy 
 smile is life, thy frown is death. Thou hast 
 access to every heart, and knowest every thought 
 of every creature in thy wide dominions. Look 
 down from thine eternal throne, and teach one 
 of the meanest of thy creatures to supplicate 
 thy mercies. W^ithout thy love we must be 
 poor in the midst of plenty ; and wretched in 
 the midst of worldly joy ; whilst in thy love is 
 
14 PaAYER FOR A DIVINS 
 
 pleasure, though in the midst of pain ; and 
 wealtii in the midst of worldly poverty. Ho 
 that knows thee and loves thee, thoui^h he die 
 of want and huni^er, is infinitely richer and 
 happier than the king who rules the widest em- 
 pire, but knows thee not. Thou art our only 
 happiness, yet have we not sought good in thee. 
 Thou art our bliss, yet have we bid thee depart. 
 Thou hast the first and most reasonable claim 
 upon our hearts, yet by nature those hearts are 
 shut against thee. But if thou hast blessed him 
 that indites this prayer, with the knowledge of 
 thyself, bless those who may read or utter it 
 with the same heavenly knowledge. Great God, 
 thou only knowest what is man. A fallen mi- 
 serable wretch ; a wilful child and slave of sin ; 
 a deserving heir of wrath and woe. Thy heav- 
 enly pity has opened for him a way of life, but 
 how few are they who find, it ! and, ah ! no 
 hand but thine can guide the sinner into that 
 peaceful path. Hard is the heart {hy goodness 
 does not melt — no rock so hard. Cold is the 
 heart thy kindness does not warm — no ice so 
 cold. Yet, alas ! great God, such is naturally 
 every human heart. Such was his, whom thou 
 hast inclined to write this little volume ; and 
 such his who reads it. But thou hast power to 
 soften the rock, and melt the ice, and change 
 the heart ; and hast thou not the desire? Mer- 
 ciful Maker, hast thou not sworn, "As I live I 
 have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but 
 that the wicked turn from his way and live?" 
 Thou hast said, "Look unto me, and be ye 
 saved, all ye ends of the earth ;" and thousands, 
 now in glory, have experienced thy saving pow- 
 ei*. The feeblest instruments can in thy hand 
 
BLESSING ON THIS BOOK. 15 
 
 perform the mightiest works. A pebble and a 
 sling can bring down to the dust thy proudest 
 foe. Now then, compassionate God, display thy 
 power to save. Grant that all who read this 
 book may yield to its persuasions, and earnestly 
 regard their best concerns. By feeble instru- 
 ments thou hast awakened many a thoughtless 
 heart ; and if this be the feeblest of the feeble, 
 yet magnify thy power and mercy by making it 
 to one soul (O, might it be to many !) a solemn 
 and awakening call. Let some of its readers 
 learn the end for which life was given ; and O, 
 let them not sleep the sleep of sin and death, 
 till awakened by judgment and destruction! 
 Gracious God, teach them that life is not given 
 to be trifled and sinned away. By the power 
 of the gospel, subdue the stony heart, and 
 break the rock of ice. With a voice, effectual 
 as that which shall wake the dead, bid the dead 
 in sin arise and live. Bid the young sinner, 
 that may read this volume, flee from the wrath 
 to come. "O, let not sin and death resist thee!" 
 Let not Satan successfully oppose thee. Let 
 not the stubborn heart refuse thee admittance. 
 But, God of mercy, by thy conquering Spirit, 
 make this little book, which in itself is feeble as 
 a reed, powerful to lead to penitence, prayer, 
 and conversion, some youthful wanderer from 
 the paths of j)eace, O thou who pitiest wretch- 
 ed men, teach the young readers of this book 
 to pity themselves ! Let them not by sin and 
 folly make even immortality a curse. Let them 
 not despise thy gracious calls, nor trample on 
 thy dying love. Over them let not hell rejoice, 
 and heaven mourn ; but let the angels that 
 dwell in thy presence, and the saints that sur- 
 
16 PRAYER FOR A DIVINE BLESSING ON THIS BOOK. 
 
 round ihy throne, exult over some penitent 
 awakened by this feeble instrument; some 
 youth embracing the gospel of thy Son, and 
 finding every good in him. Great God, grant 
 this request. O, let the sorrows of the Saviour 
 urge it ! O, let the intercession of the Saviour 
 obtain it ! O, let the influences of the Spirit ac- 
 complish what is thus desired ! for, blessed Lord, 
 it is here devoutly acknowledged, that, without 
 that Spirit, " books are senseless scrawls, studies 
 are dreams, learning is a glow-worm, and wit is 
 but wantonness, impertinence, and iolly." And 
 O may it seem meet to thy divine Majesty, to 
 g^rant, that when the author of this book has 
 finished his course, that then, though dead, he 
 may yet speak in the following pages; and con- 
 tinue to call on the young to " remember their 
 Creator in the days of their youth !" If this be 
 a sinful ambition, compassionate God, for Je- 
 sus's sake, forgive it ; but if it be a desire which 
 thy Spirit has produced in the writer's heart, for 
 Jesus's sake grant the rec[uest. Bestow thy 
 Spirit, O God of love ! Bestow those l)lessed 
 influences, O thou Saviour of mankind, who 
 hast received gifts for men ! Bestow them, O 
 Father and Lord of all, and bring some youth- 
 ful sinner to the feet of thy crucified Son ! 
 Though.it be but one, grant that one may go to 
 him lor life. But O, again permit the petition, 
 that if it please thee, the persuasions and mo- 
 tives for early piety here presented to the young, 
 may be eflfectual to the conversion of many ; 
 and that many who shall read them may be led 
 to Jesus, and be found to have their names 
 written in the book of life, when time shall have 
 
PRAYER FOR THE READER. 17 
 
 erased every name that is written even upon 
 rocks below. 
 
 And now, O God of grace, hear this sup})li- 
 cation, and teach the young reader with sincer- 
 ity of heart, to join in that which follows. Grant 
 this, great God, for his sake who died on Cal- 
 vary below, who lives, and reigns, and pleads 
 for man above ; and whose is the kingdom, the 
 power, and the glory, for ever and for ever. 
 Amen. 
 
 ^ 3. A PRAYER FOR YOUNG PERSONS, IMPLORING THE 
 DIVINE BLESSING UPON THEMSELVES WHILE READING 
 THIS BOOK. 
 
 Great God,' thou seest me, a young and 
 thoughtless creature. Young as I am in years, 
 yet lar have 1 gone in sin. So far that thou 
 mightest justly hjve said With respect to me, 
 *' Cut down that cumberer of the ground ;" and 
 had that dreadful sentence been long ago pro- 
 nounced and executed, I must have owned it 
 just. My years are i'ew, but my sins are many; 
 more numerous are they than my days or hours, 
 more countless than the hairs of my head. 
 Alas! blessed God, what a part have I acted! 
 I have received life from thee, and employed it 
 in neglecting, and sinning against thee. I 
 might have died at my birth, have seen the light 
 and closed my eyes in death, but thou didst 
 watch over me in infancy, didst guard me ia 
 childhood, and hast brought me to the blooming 
 days of youth ; and how have I requited thee? 
 Wretch that I have been to requite thy love 
 with ingratitude, thy goodness with neglect. 
 Distracted creature that T have been, to spend 
 2* 
 
18 PRAYER FOR THE READER. 
 
 the flower of my years in grieving thee, my best 
 friend; in pleasing Satan, my infernal foe; and 
 in undoing my own immortal soul. O, make 
 me sensible of my sin ; teach me to bewail and 
 loathe my folly ; and help me to forsake it ! 
 Now let me begin 1o live that life, -which on a 
 dying bed I shall wish to have lived. Merciful 
 God, thou hast spared me in mercy; let me not 
 appear to have been spared in vain; but let my 
 life, which has been too long spent without thee, 
 now be devoted to thee. Pour out thy Spirit 
 on me, for he alone can teach me what thou 
 art. Give me to thy Son, and thy Son to me. 
 Thou art permitting me in this little book to 
 read a serious invitation to early piety. Teach 
 me to regard the truths I read ; ;,md may I read 
 them with a devout and attentive mind. May 
 the persuasions and motives here presented to 
 me, reach my heart ; and may I, when I reach 
 the conclusion of this book, be no longer the 
 thoughtless creature I have hitherto been ; but 
 may I be found to have chosen that good part, 
 which none can take away. But, ah ! great 
 God ! what am I that I should speak of reach- 
 ing the conclusion even of this little book! 
 Though I have read its first pages, I know not 
 that I shall live to read its last. Young and 
 vigorous as I may now be, perhaps, before I 
 can reach its end, my time may be finished, my 
 eyes closed in death, and my soul called to meet 
 thee, my long neglected and much injured God 
 O then, teach me to be wise without delay! 
 Teach me what religion is, and enable me to 
 choose it as my portion. Teach me what I am, 
 and lead me to Jesus Christ, thy once crucified 
 but now exalted Son. O, make me thine ! O 
 
PLAN OF THE BOOK. 19 
 
 Saviour, make me thine ! O God of glory, make 
 me thine without delay, and teach me all thy 
 will! Then, whatever be the instrument that 
 awakens my soul, thine shall be the praise, for 
 it is thy work, and the glory is justly thine. 
 
 Hear me, O thou most merciful Father, and 
 wash my sins away in atoning blood ; hear me, 
 and let my youth from this day be devoted to 
 thee; hear me, for the sake of thy beloved Son; 
 and now to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as to 
 the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only 
 wise God, be glory and dominion, world with- 
 out end. Amen. 
 
 § 4. Having, my young friend, sought God's 
 blessing, allow me now to explain to you the 
 plan I design to follow in this little work. As 
 my object is to persuade you to devote your 
 youth to God, it is needful for nie to address 
 you as one whom I may suppose to be negli- 
 gent of that best of blessings, humble piety. I 
 sliall, therefore, endeavour first to shov/ you 
 what is your natural condition, (Chap. 2). Af- 
 ter this, I would entreat you to accompany me 
 while I descend more into particulars (C. 3), 
 and set before you some of the more common 
 sins of youth. I would then point you to the 
 Lamb of God ; and would represent to you the 
 nature of true piety (C. 4). Pursuing this sub- 
 ject, I would (C. 5) affectionately warn you 
 against those delusive supports, on which many 
 rest to their eternal ruin. I would then urge on 
 you the infinite importance of early piety, by 
 showing you (C. 6) the worth of your soul. By 
 referring you (C. 7) to the advice of the eternal 
 God. By displaying to you (C. 8) the love of 
 God and Christ. By setting before you (C. 9) 
 
20 PLAN OP THF, nOOK. 
 
 the peculiar acceplableness of earlj^ piety. By 
 enumeratinp: (C. 10) some of its numberless ad- 
 vantages. J^y glancing (C. II) at some of its 
 pleasures. By condnciing you (C. 12) to take 
 a view of the happy conclusion of a life of re- 
 ligion ; and attempting (C. 13) an imperfect 
 description of that heaven and that eternity ic 
 which religion conducts the soul. But fearing, 
 that in many instances, all the pleasing motives 
 which these considerations yield, may be of no 
 avail ; I shall tlien present to you reasons for 
 religion, drawn from very opposite sources. I 
 would here show you (C. H.) that while you 
 neglect early piety you are destitute of all real 
 good. I would describe to you (C. 15) the un- 
 kindness and ingratitude visible in such a 
 course to Gud. and its cruelty to yourself I 
 would show (C. 16) the vanity of youth; and 
 (C. 17) the sorrows and dangers that attend the 
 way of transgressors. I would remind you 
 (C. 18) of the approach, to the most careless, of 
 judgment and eternity; and (C. 19) would 
 glance at the dismal abodes of eternal wretched- 
 ness to which youthful sins would lead you. I 
 then (C. 20), if you have not chosen true relig- 
 ion, would affectionately beseech you to choose 
 it without delay. But, knowing how many ob- 
 jections are started against early piety, 1 pro- 
 pose ((.'. 21) to answer some of the principal of 
 these. Having noticed these, permit me to oc- 
 cupy a few more lines (C. 22), in entreating you, 
 tvilhoiif dcluji, to make your choice; and then 
 (C. 23) to conclude the whole with a few direc- 
 tions, and some brief addresses. May God 
 make this little book promote his glory, and 
 your eternal benefit. — Amen. 
 
21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FALLEN, GUILTY, AND RUINED STATE OF MAN. 
 
 §1.1 NOW, my young friend, address you on 
 a subject unspeakably important; as no hope 
 can be entertained of doing you lasting good, 
 till you feel the truth of the statement, con- 
 tained in this chapter ; but if you be led by 
 the Divine Spirit, to perceive that this chapter 
 describes your own condition, there will then be 
 a pleasing prospect of your becoming acquaint- 
 ed with those things which belong to your ever- 
 lasting peace. 
 
 In reference to bodily disorders it is said, that 
 to know our disease is half the cure : the same 
 observation will apply to the disorders of the 
 soul. If one deeply infected with a fever, or 
 the plague, were so deluded, as to believe him- 
 self enjoying perfect health, or to think himself, 
 at worst, but slightly disordered, and therefore 
 to neglect the means for restoring health, how 
 soon would death and the grave convince him 
 of his sad mistake ! Such delusion is seldom 
 met with ; but an infinitely more dreadful and 
 more mischievous delusion, is as common as the 
 light of day. Perhaps you labour under its 
 baleful influence. Perhaps, if your life has 
 been unstained by flagrant enormities, you 
 imagine yourself a good-hearted young man, or 
 an innocent young woman. Your sins are soft- 
 ened down under the name of youthful follies. 
 The deep corruption of your nature is totally 
 hidden from your view. You are in danger of 
 
22 DELUSION RESPECTING MAN'S 
 
 flying eternally of the worst of. plagues, and yet 
 thinking that all is well. You are exposed to 
 the wralh of a justly offended God, and saying 
 to yourself, " Peace, peace." 
 
 § 2. God forbid that I should wish to repre- 
 sent your state, by nature, as worse than he de- 
 scribes it in his word. If I had the wish I 
 should scarcely have the power. Be patient 
 then, and hear the worst. What are you ? If 
 guided by tlie opinions of a poor blind world, 
 you might reply, "A frail imperfect creature, 
 guilty of some sins, but yet with so many good 
 dispositions and good actions to counterbalance 
 them, that I may reasonably hope for happiness 
 and heaven." My dear young friend, are tliese, 
 or such as these, your views of yourself? If 
 they be, no wretched madman, bound with 
 chains, crowning himself with straw, and imag- 
 ining himself a mighty and happy monarch, 
 was ever more deceived. I repeat the question. 
 What are you ? Let the word of the God of 
 truth reply. And what is its answer? It teach- 
 es you that you are corrupt and polluted, and 
 at variance with your God ; having all the 
 powers of your soul disordered ; and exposed, 
 justly exposed, to everlasting ruin ; and so en- 
 tirely depraved and undone, that without a 
 chan2^e as great as a second birth, you cannot 
 possibly see the kingdom of God. 
 
 Perhaps you exclaim,* " Shocking doctrine !" 
 whilst, full of indignation, you are almost ready 
 to throw this book aside, before you have glanc- 
 ed at the proofs afforded in scripture, for the 
 assertions I have made. If this be the case, I 
 beseech you to remember I appeal to scripture, 
 
 • A few lines, \%itb a little alteration, from Fletcher's Appeal. 
 
FALLEN STATE, COMMON AND RyI^0^8. 23 
 
 not to your passions; to the declarations of 
 God, not to worldly delusions. You may ci*y 
 out at the sifjht of a shroud, a coffin, a grave, 
 " Shocking objects!" but your loudest exclama- 
 tions will not lessen the awful realities, by which 
 many have happily been shocked into a timely 
 preparation for approaching death. 
 
 Kefuse not then to listen to the declarations 
 of God, on this momentous subject : to refuse 
 to hearken is to seal your own destruction. 
 
 § 3. His word assures you, that every human 
 being is born into this world with a corrupt and, 
 sinful nature. — God formed man " in his own 
 image," innocent and holy ; but fiUlen man 
 begat a son " in his own likeness," corrupt and 
 fallen like himself. The consequence is, man 
 comes into this world with a sinful nature; for 
 "who can bring a clean thing out of an un- 
 clean? not one." Such is the exceeding sinful- 
 ness of human nature, that the word of God 
 strongly describes it, by declaring that we are 
 "shapen in iniquity and conceived in sin." 
 "Man is a transgressor from the womb, and 
 goes astray speaking lies." The devil is else- 
 where called the father of lies ; and one of the 
 earliest tokens of human depravity is, that a 
 disposition to commit that abominable sin so 
 soon appears in little children. — Man is bom 
 untamed and rude as a " wild ass's colt." " Fool- 
 ishness is bound even in the heart of a child." 
 "The imagination Oi man's heart is evil from 
 his youth," " is only evil and that continually ;" 
 " he is abominable and filthy, and drinketh in 
 iniquity like water." As he advances in life, do 
 
 Gen. V. 1. V 3. Job, xiv. 4. Ps. li. 5. Iviii. 3. Job, xi. 12, Pror. 
 xxil. 15. Gen. yiil. 21. ri. o. Job. xv. IG. 
 
24 FCinPJCIilL ACCOUNT OF man's 
 
 his coiruplions weaken ? The words of the 
 apostle answer, No : "We ourselves, also, were 
 sometimes foolish, disobedient, deceived, serv- 
 ing divers lusts and pleasures, living in malice 
 and envy, hateful and hating one another." 
 " God looked down from heaven upon the chil. 
 dren of men, to see if there were any that did 
 understand." And what is the dreadful result 
 of this examination ? '* Every one of them is 
 gone back; they are altogether become filthy; 
 there is none that doetli good, no, not one." 
 
 § 4. This sinfulness of your nature, my young 
 friend, is not partial ; it is not confined to some 
 of your powers or faculties ; but, like a mortal 
 poison, spreads through and pollutes the whole. 
 "The whole head is sick, and the whole heart 
 fiiint; from the sole of the foot even to the head, 
 there is no soundness in it, but wounds, and 
 bruises, and putrefying sores." The heart, 
 which should be the best part of man, is now 
 the v\orst. "The heart is deceitful above all 
 things, and desperately wicked." Such are the 
 windings of its corruption, that no eye but that 
 of Jehovah can trace them out. It is fall of 
 evil; not merely tainted but filled with sin; and 
 "madness dwells in it." From this corrupt 
 fountain, flows as corrupt a stream. "Out of 
 the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adul- 
 teries, fornication, theft, false witness, blasphe- 
 mies, covetousness, wickedness," or malevolence, 
 " deceit, lasciviousness," or immodesty, " envy, 
 pride, foolishness," or levity. Not merely is 
 the heart thus polluted, " but the lusts of men 
 war in their members." The eyes, the ears, the 
 
 Tit. iii. 3. Ps. liii. 2. Is. i. 5, 6. Jer. xvii. 9. Ecc. vs.. a 
 Matt. XV. 19. Mj;rk, vii. 22. Jam. iv. i. 
 
FALLEN AND SINI-LL STATE. 25 
 
 hands, the feet, the lips, are all defiled by differ- 
 ent sins; and the tongue, that member which 
 was formed peculiarly for its Creator's praise, 
 " is now a world of iniquity ; and is set on fire 
 of hell/' Man is elsewhere represented as born 
 in that state which is called flesh ; a name ap- 
 plied to this corruption of our nature. " That 
 which is born of the flesh, is flesh." And "the 
 works of the flesh," says an inspired apostle, 
 " are manifest, which are these, adultery, forni- 
 cation, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, 
 witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, 
 strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, 
 drunkenness, revellings, and such like." Such 
 is man when the corruptions of his nature have 
 opportunity for appearing ; and has he any 
 deeds of righteousness to counterbalance this 
 exceeding sinfulness ? O, let the evangelical 
 prophet answer : " We are all as an unclean 
 thing; and all our righteousnesses are as filthy 
 rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our 
 iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away." 
 So far are our best actions, in our natural state, 
 from helping, that even they are polluted and 
 loathsome ; and sin, like a whirlwind unop- 
 posed, sweeps us on to perdition. 
 
 § 5. But I foresee an objection, which some 
 may make to parts of this statement. 
 
 Perhaps you, my young friend, exclaim, " I 
 have not committecl many of the sins here 
 named." Perhaps not. I am here showing 
 you your own lost condition, by referring you 
 to those sad fruits which your depraved heart, 
 unless by one means or other prevented, would 
 produce; and which in millions of cases have 
 
 Jam. iii. G. John, iii. 6. Gal. v. 19, 2L Is. Ixiv. G. 
 3 
 
26 OBJECTION ANSWERED. 
 
 been produced. The restraints of education, or 
 other things, may in you have checked some of 
 these corruptions ; but this makes no alteration 
 as to your natural sinfulness. If in spring you 
 were to cast one handful of wheat into the 
 ground, and lay another by in a drawer, would 
 you, in autumn, say of that which had been laid 
 by, this is not wheat, because it might not 
 have put forth the blade and the eav? No, it 
 would still be wheat, still be of the same nature 
 as that scattered in the ground, though its situ- 
 ation had prevented its growing, and producing 
 fruit like that. So it is with human nature : 
 in some situations its corruptions may not be 
 so visible as in others; in some situations those 
 corruptions may not have the same nourishment 
 as in others; or may meet with more restraints; 
 like the grain of corn, which is bu'ried so deep 
 that, it can scarcely push its blade above the 
 surface of the soil. AW this may take place. 
 All this does take place, in thousands of instan- 
 ces ; but human nature, in its radical corrup- 
 tion, is every where the same; like wheat which 
 is wheat still, whether it vegetates in the furrow, 
 ripens in the ear^ or is treasured up in the barn. 
 
 § 6. Allow me, my young friend, atXer this 
 general view, to descend into particulars. 
 
 The word of God, in describing your natural 
 condition, represents it as so extremely sinful, 
 that while in it nothing which you do can be 
 pleasing to God. "They that are in the flesh" 
 (under the government of that corruption which 
 is named flesh), "cannot please God." So en- 
 tire is this corruption, that an apostle confesses, 
 "I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwell- 
 
 Roni. viii. 8. vii. 18. 
 
MAN'S BLINDNESS. 27 
 
 elh no good thing." So completely is the soul 
 indisposed by it for all that is really good, that 
 men are " dead in trespasses and sins." How 
 awful is their delusion, who are strangers to 
 real religion, and yet flatter themselves that 
 there is something good in them to recommend 
 them to God. Their best actions flow from cor- 
 rupt motives, and are in his sight but a kind of 
 splendid sins. 
 
 § 7. Man is not only so extremely sinful that 
 he cannot please God, but so blind, that he is 
 entirely ignorant of what is acceptable in his 
 Makei-'s sight. Our Lord himself declares, that 
 the design of his gospel is to open the eyes of 
 men, "and to turn them from darkness to light, 
 and from the power of Satan unto God." He 
 assures us that he came to " preach recovering 
 of sight to the blind." His most distinguished 
 apostle affirms, "that even the followers of Christ 
 were sometime darkness;" that he and they had 
 been ''delivered from the power of darkness;" 
 and humbly confesses, "we ourselves also were 
 sometime foolish, disobedient, deceived ;" being 
 blinded by those false hopes and delusions, 
 which blind thousands now. So desiructive is 
 this blindness, that men " know not the way of 
 peace." So entire, XhdX the sullen ox and stupid 
 ass know more of their masters, than unenlight- 
 ened man of his God. "The ox knoweth his 
 owner, and the ass his master's crib; but Israel 
 doth not know, my people do not consider." So 
 awful is this blindness, that " the natural man 
 receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God ; 
 for they are foolishness unto him." Even "the 
 
 tpli. 2. 1. Acts, xxvi. 18. Luke, iv. 18. Epb. v. 8. Col. i. 13. 
 TiL iii. 3. Row. iii. 17. Is. i. 3. 1 Cor. ii. 14. i. IS 
 
28 MAN'S SUBJECTION TO SATAN. 
 
 preaching of the cross itself, is, to them thai 
 perish, foolishness/' And so ivil/ul, that " men 
 love darkness ralher than light, because their 
 deeds are evil; and proceeding in their career of 
 madness, " fools make a mock at sin/* Is it pos- 
 sible, my young friend, to give a sadder repre- 
 sentation of the natural blindness of the heart, 
 than these passages give ? Sin, which God de- 
 clares to be the cause of misery, death, and hell, 
 men treat as a matter of foolish ridicule and 
 mad laughter; while that glorious plan of sal- 
 vation, which so magnifies the wisdom and love 
 of God, that it astonishes the angels of heaven, 
 even this is folly in the view of poor unconvert- 
 ed men. The man who should laugh at a thou- 
 sand swords aimed at his defenceless head, or 
 pointed at his naked breast, were wiser than he 
 who laughs at sin. Less foolish were the 
 wretch who should treat as folly, a plan to de- 
 liver him from the condemned cell, the halter, 
 the gibbet, or the fire, than he who thus treats 
 the wondrous plan which God has devised, to 
 save him from the flames of hell. 
 
 § 8. Shall I stop here ? The word of God 
 does not. The sacred writers continue the de- 
 plorable account of fallen man, by declaring 
 that he is not only polluted and blind, but un- 
 der the influence of the worst foe of God and 
 man. — The devil, on account of his extensive 
 reign, is called by them, " the god of this 
 world;" ''the prince of the power of the air;" 
 and he and the wicked spirits that have fallen 
 with him, '' are the rulers of the darkness of 
 this world." The ungodly are of their " father 
 
 Jolm, iii. 19. Prov. xiv. 9. 2 Cor. iv. 4. Eph. ii. 2, vL IS. 
 
man's subjection to SATAN. 29 
 
 the devil;" "he works in the hearts of the chil- 
 dren of disobedience;" "he takes away the seed 
 that is sown in the thoughtless heart;" he blinds 
 the minds of the irrelio^ious ; and where the 
 "gospel is hid, it is hid" through his hellish 
 influence. 'J'hey are "in the snare of the devil," 
 and are "led captive by him at his will." They 
 who neglect religion to follow the world, are 
 " turned aside after Satan ;" and lest you should 
 imagine that these deplorable assertions refer 
 merely to the most openly ungodly, you are as- 
 sured by the divine Saviour himself, that the 
 design of his gospel is to bring men " from the 
 power of Satan unto God;" and that "the 
 tares," or all who are not in reality the children 
 of God, "are the children of the wicked one." 
 The apostle Paul confesses that he and his 
 Christian friends once were of this number; the 
 apostle John as solemnly teaches us, that all 
 men are either the children of God or of the 
 devil ; and that those who do not practise righ- 
 teousness, and cherish love, " are not of God." 
 
 Adding other awful particulars to this mourn- 
 ful description: the Son of God complains, 
 that they " will not come to him for life ;" that 
 they " love darkness rather than light ;" that 
 they hated him, and will hate his friends. 
 
 § 9. To give a darker finish to this dreadful 
 picture, the word of eternal truth declares, that 
 men are " lovers of pleasures more than lovers 
 of God ;" are " alienated from the life of God, 
 through the ignorance that is in them ;" are 
 " alienated from God and enemies in their 
 minds, by wicked works;" that they "know not 
 
 Join), viii. 44. Epli. ii. 2. Matt. xiii. 19-2 Cor. iv. 4. 2 Tir . ii. 26. 
 1 Tim. V. 1-5. Acts, xxvi. 28. Matt. xiii. 23. Eph. ii. 3. 1 Job a, hi- 10. 
 John, V. 4U. iii. 19. xv. Itt. 2 Tim. iii 4. Eph, iv. 18. 
 
 3* 
 
30 MAN ALIENATED FROM GOD. 
 
 God;" are "haters of God;" are "strangers 
 and ibreigners to him ;'* and " witliout God in 
 the world." Hence, in a natural stale, "there 
 is none tliat seeketh after God ;" " there is no 
 fear of God before their eyes." By their lives, 
 even if they dare not utter it with their lips, 
 they say unto God, "depart from us, for we de- 
 sire not the knowledge of t-hy ways ;" and by 
 choosing worldly vanities in preference to the 
 favour and service of God, they, in f\ict, utter 
 the dreadful sentence, "What is the Almighty 
 that we should serve him ? and what profit 
 should we have if we pray unto him ?" The 
 apostle Paul, in giving the darkest touch to this 
 dreadful picture, declares, that "the carnal mind 
 is enmity against God." A more awful de- 
 scription of fallen man cannot be given, than 
 that contained in these few words. The carnal 
 mind is strictly the earthly or sensual mind ; 
 that which the moral and the profligate alike 
 possess, while loving the world and the things 
 of the world. It is not an expression applying 
 merely to the most abandoned, but one that 
 applies to every human being, let his outward 
 conduct he ever so fair, whose mind cleaves to 
 this earthly clod. The miser as well as the 
 spendthrift; the pleasing young man that is fol- 
 lowing earthly objects with uU his heart; the 
 engaging young woman whose thoughts are 
 fixed on fashion, dress, and gaiety, as much 
 possess the carnal mind, as does the shameless 
 profligate, whose conduct they abhor ; and the 
 sober tradesman, whose plans and schemes all 
 refer to this world, is as much under its influ- 
 ence as either of the others. All these have a 
 
 Thes. iv. 5. Ro. i. 30. Eph. ii. 19. Ro. iii. 11. Job, xxi. 14. Ro. viii. 7. 
 
A REBEL, UTTERLY RUINED. 31 
 
 worldly or carnal mind, and what is it? enmity 
 ag-ainst God, enmity itself. Can worse be said 
 of devils? have even they a mind more inimical 
 to God than the carncl mind ? what can be 
 worse than that which is enmity itself? The 
 Most High calls on heaven and earth to wonder 
 at the horrid crimes of men ; and declares, "I 
 have nourished and broug-ht up children, and 
 they have rebelled against me." The Son of 
 God represents man as a wicked prodigal, v/ho 
 has treated with the basest neglect, ingrati- 
 tude, and cruelty, the best and most affectionate 
 of parents. A prodigal so destitute of filial 
 love, that he acts the part of a madman, and 
 prefers the swinish husks in an enemy's coun- 
 try to the comforts of his fiither's house. And 
 one of the best of men confesses, " We have 
 sinned, and have committed iniquity, and have 
 done wickedly, and have rebelled, even by de- 
 parting from thy precepts, and thy judgments." 
 § 10. The word of God further shows the 
 depth of our fall, and the malignant poison of 
 our sin, by the display which it makes of the 
 greatness of the remedy provided for our deliv- 
 erance. No less a person than the Son of God, 
 the Lord of all things, appeared as a Saviour. 
 More was done to redeem than to create the 
 world ; the Most High thus showing that re- 
 demption was a more difficult work than crea- 
 tion. We are also assured, that there is a dis- 
 play of the exceeding greatness of God's power in 
 the conversion of a sinner; that all who are 
 saved are "born of the Spirit;" that "all things 
 are of God ;" and that it is God that prepares 
 the soul for death and eternity. But my young 
 
 Is. i. 2. Luke, xv. 19. Dan. ix. 5. Eph. i. 19. John, iii. 5. 2 Cor. v. la 
 
32 ALL MANKIND 
 
 Iriend, would all this be requisite if man were 
 able to deliver himself? would he need the help 
 of an almighty arm if he were not in himself 
 deeply fallen and utterly helpless P 
 
 § II. An important inquiry connected with 
 this subject, is — are we to understand this sad 
 description, as a description of mankind at 
 large, or only of the worst part of the human 
 race? Let the word of God give the reply. 
 Hear its solemn answer. "Death has passed 
 upon all men, because all have sinned.'' "The 
 scripture hath concluded all under sin." " We 
 all, like sheep, have gone astray, we have turned 
 every one to his oivn way." None then, it seems, 
 naturally incline their feet to the ways of God. 
 *' Each wanders in a different way ; but all the 
 downward road." "The whole world lieth in 
 wickedness ;" lies like a wounded and fallen 
 captive, the helpless prey of an infernal foe. 
 "All have sinned, and come short of the glory 
 of God." " They are all gone aside ; they are 
 all together become filthy ; there is none that 
 doeth good, no, not one." "They are all under 
 sin, there is none righteous, no, not one." 
 "There is not a just man upon earth that doeth 
 good and sinneth not." " If one died for all, 
 then were all deadP So completely do sin and 
 man accord, that a course of sin and rebellion 
 is termed the "course of this world;" and these 
 humiliating truths are taught us, that " every 
 mouth may be stopped, and all the world be- 
 come guilty before God. And who shall re- 
 fuse to submit, for who can say, " I have made 
 my heart clean, I am pure from sin ?" 
 
 Rom. V. 12. Gal. iii. 22. Is. liii. 6. 1 John, v. 19. Rom. iii. 2a 
 Ps. xiv. 3. Rom. iii. 9, 10. Eccles. vii. 20. 2 Cor. v. 14. Eph. ii. 2. 
 Rom. iii. 19. Prov. xx. 19. 
 
FALLEN AND DEPRAVED. 33 
 
 If we refer this point to the decision of the 
 best of men, they unite from their own sad ex- 
 perience to confirm it. — David humbly confess- 
 es, " I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did 
 my mother conceive me." Daniel, who became 
 so peculiar a favourite of heaven, humbly de- 
 plores his rebellion against his Maker. Job, 
 not less distinguished for his piety, said, " I 
 abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." 
 Isaiah exclaims, " woe is me, for I am undone, 
 because I am a man of unclean lips." Paul, who 
 rivalled them all in his piety, and in his use- 
 fulness outdid them, says, "I know that in me 
 (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing." 
 "We were by nature the children of wrath, even 
 as others." "Or now put the question to the 
 best of the human species, the watchful, dili- 
 gent, self-denying Christian, and let him decide 
 the controversy. Go with him into his closet, 
 ask him his opinion of the corruption of his 
 heart, and he will tell you, that he is deeply sen- 
 sible of its power, for he has learned it from 
 much self-observation, and long acquaintance 
 with the workings of hi° own mind. He will 
 tell you, that every day strengthens this convic- 
 tion ; yea, that hourly he sees fresh reason to 
 deplore his want of simplicity in intention, his 
 infirmity of purpose, his low views, his selfish 
 unworthy desires; his backwardness to set about 
 nis duty, his languor and coldness in perform- 
 ing it: that he finds himself obliged to confess, 
 that he feels within him two opposite principles, 
 and that he cannot do the things that he would."* 
 
 After such a review, how just appears the 
 observation, " The merely outward irregularities 
 
 P8. li. 5. Dan. ix. Job, xlii, 6. Is. vi. 5. Rom. vii. 18. Epb. ii. 3. 
 • Wilberforce. 
 
34 ALL MANKIND, BY NATURE, 
 
 of men hear no more proportion to the whole of 
 their depravity, than the particles of water, 
 which are occasionally emitted from the surface 
 of the ocean, to the tide that rolls beneath."* 
 
 § 12. Think not that I love to dwell on this 
 melancholy subject. Far from it ; but I warn 
 you of your state and danger, that you may 
 seek deliverance. Tliat divine book, which 
 gives the awful description you have now read 
 of your state, gives as an affecting account of the 
 danger, to which, as a fallen creature and a sin- 
 ner, you are exposed. By the God of eternal 
 truth are you assured, that men are " by nature 
 the children of wrath ;" " that he who believeth 
 not is condemned already;" and, "that judg- 
 ment has come upon all men to condemnation;" 
 that men as sinners are in a state of death ; 
 " that the wages of sin is death ;" the second 
 and more dreadful death, which consists in 
 being cast into the lake of fire. And that "the 
 soul which sinneth shall surely die." That 
 " destruction and misery are in the ways ot 
 men;" and that "a day of judgment and per- 
 dition to ungodly men is approaching ;" for 
 which " they are reserved." Even the compas- 
 sionate God is declared "to hate the workers of 
 iniquity ;" and to have his " face set against 
 them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance 
 of them from the earth ;" and it is his solemn 
 assertion, that "there is no peace to the wicked." 
 
 As it were, if possible, to guard men from 
 self-deception, on a point of such infinite im- 
 portance, the strongest expressions are used, in 
 the word of God, in asserting that all are thus 
 
 • Fuller. Eph. ii. 3. John, iii. 18. Kom. v. 18. Johu, v. 21. 
 Rom. vi. 23. Rev. xxi. 8. lizek. xviii. 4. Rom. iii. lu 2 Peter, 
 liu7. ii. 9. Ps. V. 5. Ps. xxxvi. 1& Is. Ivii. 20. 
 
IN DAIfSER OF ETERNAL DEATH. 35 
 
 undone. "As many as have sinned without 
 law (without the advantages of God's written 
 word), shall also perish without law;" "and as 
 many as have sinned in the law, shall be judged 
 by the law;" and its judgment is, that "every 
 one is cursed, who hath not kept all things that 
 are written in the book of the law to do them." 
 In other words, that every one, who, even by a 
 single sin, has broken the commands of God, 
 has become an accursed creature. Conformably 
 with this, the apostles of our Lord declare, 
 '' that the wrath of God is revealed from heaven, 
 not merely against some atrocious crimes, but, 
 against all unrighteousness ;" that " every trans- 
 gression and disobedience shall receive a just 
 recompence of reward;" that "God will render 
 indignation and w^rath, tribulation and anguish, 
 to every soul of man that doeth evil ;" and that 
 " whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet 
 offend in one point, he is guilty of all ;" as truly 
 condemned and ruined by that single act, as he 
 would be had he broken the whole. While 
 these" are the declarations of inspired apostles, 
 their holy Lord affirms, that even a sinful word 
 exposes the soul to the danger of hell fire. 
 
 § 13. Not merely do the Lord's inspired 
 prophets and apostles represent our natural state 
 as full of danger, but they represent that dan- 
 ger as inexpressibly dreadful. They assure us, 
 that "the unrighteous shall not inherit the king- 
 dom of God." Thq,t "the wicked shall be turn- 
 ed into hell, even all the nations that .forget 
 God;" and that on them "God will rain tire 
 and brimstone, and a horrible tempest ;" that 
 
 Rom. ii. 12. Gal. iii. 10. Rom. i. 18. Heb. ii. 2. Rom. ii. 9. 
 James, ii. 10. Matt v. 22. 1 Cor. vi. la P». ix. 17. xi. 6 
 
36 THE SINNER'S DANGER DREADFUI- 
 
 "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of 
 the living God ;" for "our God is a consuming 
 fire." That " the Lord Jesus shall be revealed 
 from heaven, with his mighty angels, in flaming 
 fire, taking vengeance on them that know not 
 God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ; who shall be punished with ever- 
 lasting destruction, from the presence of the 
 Lord, and the glory of his power." Then while 
 some awake to glory, others shall awake "to 
 shame and everlasting contempt." Then in 
 vain shall the "kings of the earth, and the great 
 men, and the rich men, and the cliief captains, 
 and the mighty men, call on the rocks and The 
 mountains to cover them, and hide them from 
 the wrath of the Lamb." " Whosoever has not 
 his name found in the book of life, will be then 
 cast into the lake of fire :" and not merely will 
 atrocious sinners meet this dreadful doom, but 
 "Ihe fearful and unbelieving," those who are 
 too cowardly to follow Christ, or who disuelieve 
 his gospel, "shall be cast into the lake that burns 
 with fire and brimstone." "Then shall they eat 
 of the fruit of their own ways, and be tilled 
 with their ow n devices ;" while " the smoke of 
 their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever." 
 
 The 'divine Saviour, who was a pattern of 
 tenderness and compassion, instead of softening- 
 down these dreadful representations, confirms 
 them in the most decisive manner. — Infinite 
 pity dwelt in his heart, he wept over wretched 
 men, yet he declared that he himself, on all the 
 irreligious, would pronounce the dreadful sen- 
 tence, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- 
 
 Heb. xli. 29. 2 Thess. 1. 7. Dun. i. 2. Rev. vi. 15. xx, 13. xxi. 8 
 Prov. i. 31. Rev. xiv. 11. 
 
FEW FIND THE PATH TO HEAVEN. 37 
 
 lastinp^ fire, prepared for the devil and his an- 
 gels;" and he affirms that "they shall go away 
 into everlasting punishment;" "into the fur- 
 nace of fire, where shall be wailing and gnash- 
 ing of teeth ;" " where the worm dieth not, and 
 the fire is not quenched." To avoid this, he 
 bids you count nothing too dear. " Fear not," 
 says he, " them which kill the body, and after 
 that have no more that they can do, but fear 
 Him who after he hath killed hath power to 
 cast into hell." Dreadful doom! "whose heart 
 can endure, or whose hands be strong in the 
 day that God shall deal with him !" who can 
 dwell with everlasting burnings ! who can en- 
 dure devouring fire ! 
 
 § 14. While, my young friend, you are thus 
 aftectionately warned of your danger, even by 
 the Lord himself, you are as solemnly assured 
 by him, that multitudes plunge into this eternal 
 ruin ; and that no outward privileges will suflfice 
 to deliver you from its horrors. As it were to 
 c{uicken your concern after everlasting blessings, 
 the Lord Jesus declares that but a few, a happy 
 few, obtain them. "Wide," says he, "is the 
 gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to de- 
 struction, and many there be which go in there- 
 at;" and then he adds in the most impressive 
 manner — " Strait is the gate, and narrow the 
 way that leadeth into life, and few there be that 
 find it !" " Many are called, but few are cho- 
 sen." Presume not then, that there is little 
 danger of missing the path to heaven, for there 
 IS much. The way is narrow. Presume not 
 that most will be saved, and that therefore you 
 
 Matt. XXV. 41. 46. xiii. 42. Mark. ix. 44. Luke, xii. 5. Matt. x. 
 28. Ezek. x.x. 14. Is. xxxiii. 14. Matt, vii 13, 14. xxii. 16. 
 4 
 
38 OBJECTION ANSWERED 
 
 may go contentedly with the multitude. The 
 multitude are travelUng the downward road ; 
 and but few find the path that leads to glory 
 and to God : O, cherish a pious concern to be- 
 come one of that happy few ! 
 
 § 15. Perhaps, my young friend, you attempt 
 to set aside all that I have urged, respecting the 
 danger of your state, by pleading, "I am not 
 guilty of any notorious crimes; lying, lewdness, 
 sabbath-breaking, dishonesty, and a hundred 
 other vices, in which thousands indulge, I never 
 practised/' If you knew yourself and the law 
 of God better, you might perceive that you 
 have, in your heart, committed many sins, of 
 which you now think yourself guiltless, but if it 
 be as you imagine, yet allow me to remind you, 
 that the word of God declares you as much a 
 condemned and ruined creature, for leaving 
 undone what you should have done, as for doing 
 what you should not. Though your life may 
 be moral, yet if you do not from your heart 
 submit to the Son of God, you do not obey the 
 gospel. "And what shall the end be of them 
 who obey not the gospel of God?" "They shall 
 be punished with everlasting destruction from 
 the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his 
 power.*' Be not then deceived ; not merely the 
 openly profligate, but the unrighteous, all who 
 are destitute of real piety, "shall not inherit the 
 kingdom of God." " If any man have not the 
 Spirit of Christ he is none of his." " If any 
 man love not the Lord Jesus Christ let him be 
 accursed." " He that believeth not the Son 
 shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth 
 
 1 Peter, iv. 17. 2 Tliess. i. 7. 1 Cor. vi. 9. Rom. viii. 9 1 Cor, 
 XT). 2-2. Joliii, iii. dl. 
 
ADDRESS TO THE READER. 39 
 
 on him." The blessed Redeemer has taught 
 us that merely " making light of the gospel," 
 is the way to eternal ruin. " How then shall 
 we escape if we neglect (do nothing worse than 
 neglect) so great salvation !" 
 
 § 16. And now, my young friend, what are 
 your views of your own state ? Do you feel that 
 you are justly condemned, or do you cling to 
 the delusions, by which thousands are undone? 
 When looking round, you see many amiable 
 persons, who seem to want nothing but the one 
 thing needful, do you ask, " Are these like the 
 vilest sinners threatened with eternal wrath ? or 
 if they are, can these be deserving of it?" 
 Search the book of God, and you will there 
 surely find that they are; and that, without one 
 thing more, all the amiable qualifications imag- 
 inable, will do no more to save them from eter- 
 nal wrath, than a fine dress to save a man from 
 destruction, if hurled from the top of a tremen- 
 dous precipice. Perhaps you may have been 
 an affectionate child, you may be tender and 
 compassionate, dutiful and obliging, but will 
 this save you? No, never. — Excellent as these 
 qualifications are in their place, if these could 
 have atoned for sin, and saved the soul, the Son 
 of God need not have died. But the fact is, 
 you may possess all these, and a thousand other 
 amiable recommendations, and yet live in re- 
 bellion against your God ; and thus, however 
 fair your character may be in the sight of men, 
 in that of God it may be as dark and as vile as 
 the character of Satan himself. What is rebel- 
 lion against God, but continued disobedience 
 and neglect of his commands ? And are you 
 
 aiatt.xxii. 1, &c. Luke, xiv.l2, &c. Heb. ii. a. 
 
40 ADDRESS TO THE READER, 
 
 not guilty of this? Perhaps, you think not. 
 Well, inquire a little further. Which is the 
 first and great commandment P Is it not, "Thou 
 shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
 and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
 and with all thy strength ?" Have you kept 
 this ? Has God had all your heart? Have all 
 your affections been fixed on him ? Has he 
 been loved with all your soul and mind ; and 
 thus stood highest in your esteem ; and been 
 chosen as your supreme good and only portion ? 
 If not, however fair and pleasing your outward 
 conduct may have been, you have yet been liv- 
 ing continually committing the greatest of sins; 
 for you have lived breaking God's first and 
 great commandment every day of your exist- 
 ence. If to love God above all things is the first 
 and greatest commandment, to live negligent 
 of him must be one of the greatest of sins, and 
 indeed a sin that opens the way to every other. 
 O my young friend, could we see things aright, 
 every other sin, so far as it referred to man only, 
 would dwindle into comparative innocence, com- 
 pared with neglect of the blessed Saviour and 
 our adorable God ! The blackness of every 
 other crime would be as light, compared with 
 the more horrible blackness of alienation of the 
 heart from God, that first of sins, that root of 
 every other. This has been mine, this has been 
 yours ! and, unless your heart be changed by 
 divine grace, even at this moment this sin is 
 yours. Though unstained with the other dark 
 offences, of the robber or the adulterer, yet this 
 blackest of all you have as well as they, l^ike 
 them you l)elong to a false apostate race, that 
 have forsaken their God, and gone away back- 
 
MAN'S SINFULNESS ILLUSTRATED. 41 
 
 ward. And how can you hope for heaven, if 
 this darkest of crimes remains unrepented and 
 un forsaken ? 
 
 § 1 7. Perhaps a familiar illustration may ren- 
 der this subject still plainer. Imagine two fa- 
 voured villages, under a kind and beneficent 
 government, uniting in a cruel and unprovoked 
 rebellion. The inhabitants of one of these vil- 
 lages are profane, contentious, quarrelsome 
 wretches ; those of the other are decent, quiet, 
 sober men. Careless of threatenings, and un- 
 moved by kindness, they persist in their rebel- 
 lion. In the former village, discord, blasphemy, 
 and every sin abound ; in the other, harmony, 
 and mutual affection prevail. Now, my young 
 friend, if the inhabitants of these two places 
 were brought to trial for their crimes at the 
 same bar, would there appear much difference 
 between them ? Would they not all be rebels, 
 ungrateful rebels ; though one party were a set 
 of tumultuous quarrelsome creatures, and the 
 other harmonious good-natured rebels? Would 
 not the same doom justly await them all? And 
 if the quiet villagers were to plead in their own 
 defence, that though it was true, they had en- 
 gaged in an unprincipled and ungrateful rebel- 
 lion ; yet that they were kind, affectionate, and 
 useful to each other : would not this very cir- 
 cumstance be an aggravation of then* guilt? 
 Might it not be answered, " Among such disor- 
 derly wretches as those, rebellion was likely to 
 happen; but from you, better things might have 
 been expected.*' Apply this to the present sub- 
 ject. The openly wicked and profixne resemble 
 the former of these; the moral and benevolent, 
 that yet neglect religion, may be compared to 
 
42 ILLUSTRATION OF THE WICKEDNESS 
 
 the latter. In many things they differ; but 
 agree in the worst, that they have rebelled 
 against their greatest and best Benefactor, Are 
 not you, by neglect and disobedience, a rebel 
 against your God ^ Have not you, at least, by 
 a careless life, said to him, " Depart from me ; 
 for I desire not the knowledge of thy ways ?" 
 Have not you lived as without God in the 
 world ? So that if there had been no God, you 
 probably could hardly have been more forgetful 
 of him, than you have frequently been? Has 
 not this been the case? and if it has, will it 
 avail for you at the last to plead, that you have 
 been kind, tender, useful, and beloved among 
 your fellow rebels ? 
 
 § 18. Have I succeeded in convincing you, 
 that neglect of God, and want of love to him, is 
 so enormous a sin, that this only, if you had no 
 other, would be sufficient to sink the soul to the 
 lowest depths of hell ? If 1 have not, 0,,let me 
 urge it further upon you, in another familiar 
 illustration ! Suppose that a child, as soon as 
 be could discover any disposition, should show 
 an entire disregard to the most affectionate pa- 
 rents. Fondly attached to him, and desirous 
 to secure a return of affection, they study all 
 they can for his advantage, and heap new fa- 
 vours on him ; still he forgets them, and shows 
 them no regard. They confer on him more 
 favours, more benefits still ; yet he still forgets 
 them, and even discovers a growing aversion 
 for them. At length they place him out in the 
 world, and do what they can to promote his 
 happiness there : he still forgets them ; seems 
 insensible to all their affection ; has no more 
 love for them than the stones beneath their feet ; 
 
OF ALL THE IRRELIGIOUS. 43 
 
 and even treats them with dislike ; shuns their 
 presence; and banishes the thought of them 
 from his mind. Would not such a child de- 
 serve to lose his parents' love, and to be cast 
 oflf for ever ? Suppose this ungrateful child, by 
 abusing his parents' kindness, undone, utterly 
 undone ; but their kindness ends not. They 
 make themselves poor, to place him once more 
 in circumstances of comfort, and give up what- 
 ever they have most valuable for this purpose: 
 yet still he goes on as ever; unaffected by their 
 tenderness ; unthankful for their favours ; and 
 with an increasing dislike to them. Could they 
 still retain one parental feeling? Would not 
 such a monster of ingratitude deserve to be^ for- 
 gotten for ever ? Or could they be thought un- 
 kind, if they refused to admit this child, with 
 the worst of dispositions in his heart, to dwell 
 in the closest intimacy with them ? Would the 
 case be mended, if this ungrateful creature were 
 affectionate and grateful to every one but his 
 parents ? and careless of none but those his best 
 friends and tenderest benefactors ? Would not 
 this make his guilt the worse ; as it would show 
 that his heart was not without gratitude and 
 affection, though too depraved to offer them 
 where most justly due? Would it be unreason- 
 able for the most affectionate parents to banish 
 such a child from their presence for ever ? My 
 young friend, harsh as it may sound, if you 
 neglect true piety, you are a more ungrateful 
 child to God, than the most ungrateful child 
 could possibly be to the most affectionate pa- 
 rents; for how little are the obligations of a 
 child to his parents, compared with those of a 
 creature to his Creator and his God ! And as 
 
44 THE YOUNG SINNER'S EXTREME 
 
 much greater as is the obligation ; so much viler, 
 so much blacker is the ingratitude of neglect. 
 O, how great is the debt of gratitude you owe to 
 God ! It is on his world you live. All that is 
 agreeable around you was made so by him. 
 Here are you placed to prepare for an unutter- 
 ably better state. Nor are you here forgotten 
 by your God. Every moment of time, every 
 breath you draw, every pleasure you feel, you 
 owe to him. No day passes without its bless- 
 ings. One favour has scarcely vanished before 
 others appear. The end of one mercy is the 
 beginning of another. Though forgotten, God 
 is not forgetful. Though he may have been 
 neglected by you for days and years, he spares 
 you still, that you may turn to him. He has not 
 cut short your days in the moment of sin ; nor 
 hurried you from the scene of guilty delight to 
 the place of eternal torment. Though unthank 
 ed for his blessings day after day, he has con- 
 tinned to give them. — Consider, that every thing 
 you enjoy is God's; and ihen think, can the 
 worst of crimes against the best of earthly 
 friends be half so heinous as ingratitude to God. 
 The mercies I have mentioned are the smallest 
 of his mercies. We are fallen creatures. You 
 have destroyed yourself, but in him is your help. 
 To save you from ruin he gave his beloved and 
 adorable Son. Could he give more ? Though 
 he was rich, the Lord Jesus Christ for your sake 
 became poor; that you, through his poverty, 
 might be rich. Could he do more ? You are 
 a child whom God has placed upon earth and 
 crowned with mercies; and because you were 
 else undone for ever, he, to restore you from 
 your fallen state, has, to every other gift, added 
 
INGRATITUDE TO GOD. 45 
 
 that best and greatest, his beloved Son. Could 
 a child, under God, indebted to his parents for 
 life, indebted to them for all his comforts, and 
 indebted to them for recovery from a thousand 
 evils; owe them a thousandth part so much love 
 and gratitude, as you owe to God ? or could 
 such a one be a thousandth part so guilty as 
 you must be, if you slight all the unspeakable 
 goodness of God, and all the infinite love of 
 the dying Saviour ? How horrible a state it is, 
 through wilful sin, to become the enemy of God 
 in this world, and then to be such for ever ! to 
 begin by neglecting a kind heavenly Father 
 here, and to end by hating him, as the sinner 
 will, beyond the grave ! To hate him who is 
 all that is excellent and amiable ; and in whose 
 favour only, one drop of happiness can be found 
 hereafter. How horrible, most horrible a state 
 is tliis ! yet this condition is yours, if you are 
 not reconciled to God, Can you expect that lie 
 should glorify in his presence, and admit to his 
 right-hand, those whose hearts are averse to his 
 ways, or entirely negligent of them ; who are 
 loaded with mercies, but still forgetful of the 
 giver ? What though they shine in the view of 
 their fellow rebels; what though they be adorned 
 with a thousand charms of body or mind : yet 
 God beholds the serpent that lurks beneath the 
 rose; He sees the ungrateful hellish heart. 
 
 § 19. An excellent writer, noticing the delu- 
 sions of the world, observes, that " young people 
 may, without much offence, be inconsiderate 
 and dissipated ; the youth of one sex may in- 
 dulge occasionally in licentious excesses; those 
 of the other may be supremely given up to van- 
 ity and pleasure : yet provided that thev are 
 
46 QUOTATION, ON HUMAN 
 
 sweet-tempered and open, and not disobedient 
 to their parents or other superiors, the former 
 are deemed good-hearted young men, and the 
 latter, innocent young women. Those who love 
 them best, have no solicitude about their spiri- 
 taal interests : and it would be deemed strangely 
 strict in themselves, or in others, to doubt ot 
 their becoming" more religious as they advance 
 in life ; to speak of them as being actually un- 
 der the divine displeasure ; or, if their lives 
 should be in danger, to entertain any apprehen- 
 sions concerning their future destiny." He 
 continues — 
 
 " Innocent young women ! Good-hearted young 
 men!" Wherein does this goodness of heart and 
 this innocence appear ? Remember that we are 
 fallen creatures, bom in sin, and naturally de- 
 praved. Christianity recognises no innocence or 
 goodness of heart, but in the remission of sin, 
 and in the effects of the operation of divine 
 grace. Do we find in these young persons the 
 characters which the holy scriptures lay down, 
 as the only satisfactory evidences of a safe state ? 
 Do we not, on the other hand, discover the spe- 
 cified marks of a state of alienation from God ? 
 Can the blindest partiality persuade itself that 
 ihey are loving, or striving " to love God with 
 all their hearts, and minds, and souls, and 
 strength?" Are they "seeking first the kingdom 
 of God, and his righteousness ?" Are thei/ 
 "working out their salvation with fear and trem- 
 bling?" Are they "clothed with humility?" Are 
 ihey not, on the contrary, supremely given up to 
 self-indulgence ? Are they not, at least, " lovers 
 of pleasure more than lovers of God ?" Are the 
 offices of religion their solace or thei?' task ? Do 
 
SINFULNESS, FROM WILBERFORCE. 47. 
 
 ihey not come to these sacred services with re- 
 luctance, continue in them by constraint, and 
 quit them with gladness ? Are not* the youth 
 of one sex often actually committing, and still 
 more often wishing to commit, those sins of 
 which the scripture says expressly, "that they 
 which do such things shall not inherit the king- 
 dom of God ?" Are not the youth of the other 
 mainly intent on the gratification of vanity ; 
 and looking for their chief happiness to the re- 
 sorts of gaiety and fashion, to all the multiplied 
 pleasures which public places, or the still high- 
 er gratifications of more refined circles, can sup- 
 ply?- 
 
 And now, my young friend, with all the seri- 
 ousness T can use, allow me to ask you, if you 
 were this moment to be summoned before the 
 throne of your Judge, and were accused of hav- 
 ing lived negligent of God, and thus of having 
 lived a life of dreadful sin; would you not be 
 obliged to plead guilty to the charge, or, at 
 least, to stand speechless and confused before 
 your Maker? Does not your conscience tell you, 
 that you must? and if it does, "God is greater 
 than your heart, and knoweth all things." 
 
 PRAYER FOR A YOUNG PERSON CONVINCED OF THE TRUTH 
 OF THE PRECEDING STATEMENT, AND HUMBLED FOR 
 SIN. 
 
 Thou kind, compassionate, and ever-blessed 
 God, teach me, a poor sinful creature, to ap- 
 proach thee ; and grant, that through the Lord 
 Jesus, I may find acceptance with thee. Shame 
 and confusion of face should cover me, while I 
 draw near to confess my sinfulness before thee. 
 Open my blind eyes, to discern my real state. 
 
48 PRAYER FOR A YOUNG 
 
 Soften my hard heart, that it may feel its mis- 
 eries, and tremble at its guilt. No longer let 
 baneful delusions hide the truth from my sip^ht. 
 
 Compassionate God, thou hast been kind to 
 me ; but I, an unkind, unthankful wretch to thee. 
 Not many years have departed since I first 
 drew the breath of life ; but, alas ! how have 
 those years been spent ? My youth has been 
 crowned with thy mercies; and yet I have for- 
 gotten thee. I have loved; but not loved thee. 
 I have had fears ; but felt no holy fear of thee. 
 I have sought to please others ; but lived dis- 
 pleasing thee. I have had a heart sensible of 
 the tenderness of friends and relatives; but in- 
 sensible of thine. The trifles and vanities of 
 time have engaged my attention ; while thy in- 
 finite love has been passed unregarded by. The 
 ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's 
 crib; but I have not known my God. The most 
 savage beasts of prey have learned to love the 
 hand that fed them ; but, viler than the brute 
 creation, I have forgotten the God in whom I 
 live, and move, and have my being : and, Oh ! 
 poor blind creature that I have been ! still 1 
 have claimed the name of Christian, and thought 
 myself a child of God, and an heir of heaven. 
 
 No longer, great God, let such delusions 
 blind my eyes; but help me, while I confess my 
 folly, to feel what I am. I am the sinner which 
 thy word describes. Like the lost sheep, I have 
 wandered from thee; like the prodigal, forsaken 
 thee. I have even rebelled against thee. I have 
 been a lover of pleasures more than a lover of 
 God. My heart is deceitful above all things; 
 and has been the fountain whence every sin has 
 flowed. I have by nature the carnal mind. 
 
PERSON PENITENT FOR SIN. 49 
 
 which is enmiiy against thee : and, gracious 
 God, the sad fruits of this enmity have been my 
 neglect of thy favour; my unconcern at thy dis- 
 pleasure ; and my forgetfulness of thy love. I 
 have resisted thy Spirit; but listened to the 
 suggestions of Satan. I have slighted thy 
 word ; but have been guided by the maxims of 
 a corrupt world. Thou hast bid me remember 
 thee in my youth ; but I have forgotten thee. 
 Thou hast commanded me to love thee; but I 
 have neglected thee. Thou hast encouraged 
 me to pray to thee ; but I have often restrained 
 prayer before thee, or, when I professed to 
 pray, have mocked thee with solemn sounds on 
 a thoughtless tongue. 
 
 Thou hast been a tender Father to me ; but I, 
 worse than a rebellious prodigal to thee. Thou 
 hast wooed me by thy compassion ; and, by the 
 gift of numberless mercies, hast, as it were, said. 
 Now love me, now give me thine heart : and I 
 have not heard thy voice; or, if I have, refused 
 to give what thy love claimed. I have undone 
 myself; and thou hast interposed to save me. 
 Thou hast even given thy best-beloved and ador- 
 able Son to die for me ; yet even this match- 
 less mercy melted not my hard heart. Can I, 
 great God, hide my infernal wickedness? I can- 
 not. It is open to thy view; and ever glaring 
 in all its horror before thine eyes. Shall I ex- 
 tenuate my transgressions and corruption ? 
 Shall I plead much ignorance? — but I might 
 have known thee. Shall I plead the thought- 
 lessness of youth ? I dare not ; for thoughtless 
 as I have been of thee, young as I am, I have 
 been thoughtful about the trifles of a moment. 
 Shall I — no, I dare not, say, thou art not wor- 
 
♦'^0 PllAYER FOR A PENITENT. 
 
 thy of my love ; for bar] I ten thousand hearts, 
 thy love would deserve them all. Shall I plead 
 that T have been kind, benevolent, and useful to 
 my fellow-sinners ? Ah, my God ! the plea 
 would but agp^ravate my guilt : I have been 
 kind to them ; but unkind to thee. I have loved 
 them ; but been averse to thee : though thou 
 hast an infinite and everlasting claim on my 
 regard. INIy heart has glowed with gratitude for 
 their tenderness ; but been cold and unmoved 
 by thine : though theirs has borne no more com- 
 parison to thine, than a drop to the ocean, or a 
 grain of sand to the world. Kind and much- 
 injured God, I own my guilt before thee. " I 
 have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight.'* 
 I have sinned against thee. I have sinned 
 against thy once suffering, but now^ exalted Son. 
 I have sinned against thy Holy Spirit. I have 
 sinned against my own immortal soul. God, be 
 merciful to me a sinner I No tears of peniten- 
 tial grief can wash away my stains. Teach me 
 to plead the Saviour's death, and cleanse me in 
 his atoning blood. Create in me a clean heart ; 
 and renew a right spirit within me. Let no 
 more of the precious days of my youth be spent 
 careless of thee, as many have already been. 
 Take my heart, and make it thine. Take my 
 youth, and let it be devoted to thee. Take me 
 now in the flower of life, and let me live to thee 
 alone: that while I live, I may live to the Lord; 
 and when I die, may die to the Lord ; and thus 
 whether I live or die, may be the Lord's. Grant 
 these requests, O most merciful God ! for the 
 sake of thy dear Son ; to whom I would flee as 
 ray only refuge ; and to whom be the kingdom, 
 powcr.^ and glory, for ever and for ever. Amen. 
 
61 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SOME OF THE SINS OF YOUTH ENUMERATED. 
 
 § ]. It was endeavoured, in the last chapter, 
 to show you, that you are, by nature, a fallen, 
 depraved, and apostate creature. Now, great 
 God, assist me, whilst I strive to convince my 
 youthful readers, not merely of the corruption 
 of their nature, but of the error of their ways. 
 Display to them, whither the paths of sin lead ; 
 and bid them seek true happiness in thyself. 
 
 My young friend, I entreat you to follow me, 
 while I point out to you some of those sins 
 which undo multitudes. Among these evils, a 
 thoughtless, inconsiderate spirit, is in young 
 persons, one of the most common, and one of 
 the most fatal. While open impiety slays its 
 thousands, this sink? its ten thousands to per- 
 dition. A time is coming when you must con- 
 sider your ways. From the bed of death, or 
 from the eternal world you must take a review 
 of life : but, as you love your soul, defer not till 
 that solemn period, which shall fix your eternal 
 state, the momentous question ; " How has mv 
 life been spent ?" Look back on your past 
 years. They are gone for ever. But what re- 
 port have they borne to heaven ? What is the 
 record made respecting them in the book of 
 God? Will they rise up in the judgment 
 against you ? Possibly you may not see many 
 instances of flagrant crime : but do you see 
 nothing, which conscience must condemn ; noth- 
 ing, which would fill vou with alarm, if going 
 
52 THE READER URGED TO REVIEW LIFE. 
 
 this moment to the bar of your ISIaker? Perhaps 
 you reply, "It is true, I cannot justify all the 
 actions of my youthful years; yet the worst that 
 I see, were but the frolics of youth." My friend, 
 do they bear that namj in heaven? Does your 
 Judge view them in no worse a light ? It has 
 ever been the custom of this world to whitewash 
 sin, and hide its hideous deformity ; but, know, 
 that what you pass over so lightly, your God 
 abhors as sins — sins, the least of which, if un- 
 forgiven, would sink your soul to utter, endless 
 woe. " For the wrath of God is revealed from 
 heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteous- 
 ness." The iniquities of youth, as well as of 
 riper years, are abhorred by him. The sins of 
 youth were the bitter things which holy Job 
 lamented ; and for deliverance from which Da- 
 vid devoutly prayed. " Thou writest bitter 
 things against me; and makest me to possess 
 the iniquities of my youth." "Kemember not 
 the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions : 
 according to thy mercy, remember thou me, for 
 thy goodness' sake, O Lord !" 
 
 Take then another review of life. Begin with 
 childhood. In that early period, so often falsely 
 represented as a state of innocence, the corrup- 
 tions of a fallen nature begin to appear ; and 
 the early years of life are stained with false- 
 hood, disobedience, cruelty, vanity, and pride. 
 Can you recollect no instances, in which your ' 
 earlier years were thus polluted with actual sin? 
 Can you bring to remembrance no occasion, on 
 which falsehood came from your lips; or vanity, 
 pride, or obstinacy, was cherished in your heart? 
 or when cruelty to the meaner creatures was 
 
 Rom. i. 18. Job, xiii. 2G. Ps. xxv. 7 
 
YOUTHFUL SINS — PRIDE. 53 
 
 your sport? Shrink not from the review; though 
 painful, it is useful. It is far better to see and 
 abhor your youthful sins in this world, where 
 mercy may be found ; than to have them brought 
 to your remembrance, when mercy is no more. 
 
 But you have passed the years of childhood; 
 you have advanced one stage forwarder in your 
 journey to an endless world. Has sin weakened, 
 as your years increased? Have not some sinful 
 dispositions ripened into greater vigour? Have 
 not others, which you knew not in your earlier 
 years, begun to appear? and does not increasing 
 knowledge add new guilt to all your sins ? 
 
 Among the prevailing iniquities of youth may 
 be mentioned : — 
 
 § 2. Pride. This is a sin common to all ages ; 
 but, it often peculiarly infects the young. It is 
 abhorred by God. "The proud he knoweth 
 afar off." " He resisteth the proud ; but, giveth 
 grace to the humble." "Every one that is proud 
 in heart, is an abomination to the Lord." "He 
 hateth a proud look." " A high look and a proud 
 heart, is sin." "The proud are cursed." Pride 
 is the parent of many other vices. It puts on a 
 thousand forms ; yet, unless subdued by religion, 
 is found in the palace and the cottage. You 
 may see it displayed in the character of the 
 young prodigal : (Luke, xv. 19, &c.) Has not 
 this sin, which God so much abhors, crept into 
 your heart ? Perhaps it has made you haughty, 
 when you should have been humble; obstinate, 
 when you should have been yielding; revenge- 
 ful, when you should have been forgiving. You 
 thought it showed spirit, to resent an injury or 
 
 P». ezxxriii. 6. James, ir. 6. Prov. xri. 5. Prov. V\. 17. Prov. xxi. 4. 
 Ps. cxix. 21. 
 
54 YOUTHFUL SINS — PRIDE. 
 
 insult ; instead of patiently bearing it, like him 
 you call your Lord. Perhaps it has filled you 
 with dissatisfaction ; when you should have been 
 all submission. You have thought it hard, in 
 the day of affliction, that you should be so tried ; 
 and even if you stayed the murmur against God 
 from passing your lips, have you not feU it in 
 your heart? Pride has probably led you to neg- 
 lect the counsels of wisdom ; and to turn a deaf 
 ear to those, who wished you well for ever. 
 Vain of the ornaments of apparel, have you not 
 bestowed more thought on the dress you should 
 wear, than on the salvation of your immortal 
 soul? and been more concerned about the shape 
 of a coat, or the fashion of a gown or a bonnet, 
 than about life or death eternal? Perhaps you 
 have been one of those, who spend more time in 
 surveying their own image in a glass, than in 
 seeking the favour of their God. Ah ! did pride 
 never lead you to this self-idolatry ? Did it ne- 
 ver, never fill you with vanity, from the fancy of 
 your possessing a pleasing face, or a lovely form, 
 or manly vigour? Ah, foolish vanity! when 
 you must so soon say to corruption, "Thou art 
 my father ; and to the worm, thou art my mother 
 and sister !" Yet, foolish as it is, was it never 
 yours ? " Where is there a face so disagreeable, 
 that never was the object of self-worship in a 
 glass ? And where a body, however deformed, 
 that never was set up as a favourite idol, by the 
 fallen spirit that inhabits it?" 
 
 § 3. One of the most prevalent, and most 
 baneful kinds of pride is that, which I may term, 
 the pride of self-righteousness. Our Lord, in 
 the parable of the Pharisee and Publican, gives 
 a most striking description of this sin. The 
 
DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 55 
 
 Pharisee boasts, that he was not like others; 
 that he had not committed such flagrant crimes 
 as they ; and that lie practised duties which they 
 omitted. On this sandy foundation, his hope for 
 eternity appears to have rested. Nothing like 
 humility entered his heart ; but, in all the pride 
 of fancied virtue he approached his God. This 
 is the exact spirit of multitudes in the present 
 day ; and where young persons have been re- 
 strained from open immoralities, how commonly 
 does it exist among them ! It is pleaded, respect- 
 ing them, " that they are not like many profligate 
 youth around them; they have not given way 
 to profaneness and lying; to drunkenness or 
 dishonesty: but, they have been kind and duti- 
 ful; tender and obliging; have good hearts; and 
 are good young people." They may have lived 
 all their lives careless of God and their souls; 
 but, this is not taken into account : others com- 
 mend them, and they are willing to believe these 
 commendations. They please themselves with 
 their fancied virtue; think themselves very good 
 young persons : and, proud of this goodness, go 
 forward to meet that God, who sees in them ten 
 thousand crimes; and who abhors nothing more, 
 than the pride of self-righteousnes^ in a creature 
 polluted by daily iniquities. 
 
 § 4. Another common sin of the young is, 
 disobedience to parents. "Honour thy father 
 and mother ; that it may be well with thee, and 
 that thou raayst live long on the earth." This 
 is the divine commandment. There is, it is true, 
 one case in which even parents should not be 
 obeyed ; when their directions and wishes are 
 apposed to those of God: "we ought to obey 
 
 Ephes. vi. 2, 3. 
 
66 YOUTHFUL SINS — DISOBEDIENCE, &C. 
 
 God rather than men ;" and to love the Redeem- 
 er more than parents themselves. Parents are 
 commonly the tenderest of friends; and pious 
 parents among the surest guides, that the young 
 and inexperienced can have, to lead them to the 
 footstool of God. Your interests are theirs. 
 Your welfare their happiness. But ah ! has 
 their kindness met with the return it demanded? 
 Who, my young friend, so much deserve your 
 obedience and affection, as those who gave you 
 being, and who watched over your helpless infan- 
 cy ? The father, whose years have been spent in 
 care for you ; the mother, who tended you at her 
 breast, and led you through the days of child- 
 hood. Have they received this obedience and 
 affection from you? 
 
 Perhaps I address one, whose disobedience and 
 unkindness have wrung with grief the hearts of 
 fond and pious parents ; and filled them with 
 sorrow instead of gladness. Their desire has 
 been to see you walking in the ways of God, 
 For this, they have led you to his house. For 
 this, their prayers have ascended in public and 
 in private. This, by their early instructions and 
 later admonitions, they have warned you to re- 
 gard as the chief end of life ; as that only con- 
 cern, which, beyond all others, should interest 
 your attention, and engage all your heart. And 
 now they see you negligent of God and religion; 
 and mourn in secret, that the child they love, is 
 still a child of Satan. Ah ! young man or young 
 woman, if this be your case, God will bring you 
 into judgment, for all your abuse of precious pri- 
 vileges, and all your neglect of parental instruc- 
 tions ; and the prayers, and the tears, and the 
 
 Acts, T. 29. Matt. x. 37, 38. 
 
WASTE OF TIME. 67 
 
 admonitions of your parents, will awfully witness 
 against you. Think not, that if affectionate and 
 kind to them, you will much mitigate the sorrows 
 of truly pious parents. No; they will still mourn 
 at the thought, that the affectionate child, they 
 fondly love, is not a child of God. It will grieve 
 them to the heart to consider, how near you are 
 to endless destruction; and how soon they must 
 bid you an eternal farewell, when they go to that 
 rest, i"n which they have no hope of meeting you. 
 
 Ah ! my young friend, if you slight religion, 
 pious parents may leave you, mournlully saying, 
 in their dying hour, "Alas ! our beloved child, we 
 shall see you no more : for our God you have 
 not chosen as your God ; and our Saviour you 
 have not sought as your Saviour ; and the heaven 
 to which we go, is a rest to which you have no 
 title, and which, dying as you are, yoa cannot en- 
 ter !" Yes ; bitterly will they mourn to think, that 
 with so much that is lovely in their view, there is, 
 in you, nothing that is lovely in the sight of God; 
 and that all which they esteem so pleasing in 
 you, must soon be buried in the deeps of hell. 
 
 ^ 5. Another sin, not peculiar to the young, 
 but awfully prevalent among them, is, the waste of 
 precious time. The word of God reminds us, that 
 " time is short ;" and commands us " to redeem 
 the time." The value of time is beyond our com- 
 prehension or expression. 
 
 "What Its worth? ask death-beds; they can tell: 
 
 A momentv/e may wish, when worlds want wealth to buy.'* 
 
 Time is given us to prepare for eternity ; but, aJas ! 
 how are its golden hours sinned and trifled away! 
 Many young persons act as if they thought, they 
 had so much time before them, that they may 
 
58 YOUTHFUL SINS — NOVEL READING. 
 
 afford to squander some : when, perhaps, their 
 wasted youth is their all ; all in which they will 
 ever have an opportunity of preparing for eterni- 
 ty ; all in which they can "escape from hell and 
 fly to heaven." One of the most common ways, 
 in which time is worse than wasted, is, the em- 
 ploying of it on romances, plays, and novels. 
 Novels are the poison of the age : the best of 
 them tend to produce a baneful effeminacy of 
 mind ; and many of them are calculated, to ad- 
 vance the base designs of the licentious and aban. 
 doned on the young and unsuspecting. But, 
 were they free from every other charge of evil, 
 it is a most heavy one, that they occasion a 
 dreadful waste of that time, which must be ac- 
 counted for before the God of heaven. Let 
 their deluded admirers plead the advantages of 
 novel-reading, if they will venture to plead the 
 same before the worthy Judge eternal. If you 
 are a novel-reader, think the next time you take 
 a novel into your hands. How shall 1 answer 
 to my tremendous Judge, for the time occupied 
 by this ? When he shall say to me, " I gave you 
 so many years in yonder world, to fit you for 
 eternity : did you converse with your God in 
 devotion ? did you study his word ? did you at- 
 tend to the duties of life; and strive to improve 
 to some good end even your leisure hours ?" then, 
 then, shall I be willing to reply ; " Lord, my time 
 was otherwise employed I Novels and romances 
 occupied the leisure of my days ; when, alas ! 
 my bible, my God, and my soul, were neglected \" 
 In tliis way, and many others, is time, that most 
 precious blessing, squandered away. Does not 
 conscience remind you of many leisure hours ; 
 hours, which, though thoughtlessly thrown away, 
 
i>EGLECT OF RELIGION. 59 
 
 would soon, to you, be worth more than moun- 
 tains of gold or of pearl ? 
 
 § 6. Wilful neglect of the soul and eternity, 
 is another common sin of youth. Young persons 
 presume on future life ; and grieve the Holy Spi- 
 rit, by delaying to regard the one thing needful. 
 They trust in their youth. God reproves the fol- 
 ly, and says, " Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; 
 for thou kno west not what a day may bring forth :" 
 but, few will listen to the warning. Instead of 
 doing so, they flatter themselves that they shall 
 live for many years ; and think sickness, death, 
 and judgment, far from them. Hence they neg- 
 lect the soul; and seem to imagine religion un- 
 suitable, or at least not needful for themselves. 
 The blessed God calls on them in his word ; the 
 crucified Saviour bids them come to himself, ''I 
 love them that love me, and they that seek me 
 early shall find me ;" the ministers of the gos- 
 pel urge the advice upon them ; prayers are oflfer- 
 ed, tears shed for them : yet, many persist in their 
 own ways ; and, whatever they do, will not re- 
 member their Creator in the days of their youth. 
 My young friend, has this been your sin and fol- 
 ly ? O, if it has, remember how many ways there 
 are out of the world ! how^ many diseases to cut 
 short your days ! God gives you time enough 
 to secure salvation ; but think not, that he gives 
 you any to spare. 
 
 § 7. An inordinate love of sensual pleasure 
 and worldly gaieties, is another most prevalent 
 sin of youth. The word of God describes those 
 who live in pleasure, as "dead while they live;" 
 and classes with the most abominably wicked, 
 those who are ''lovers of pleasure more than lov- 
 
 Prov xxvii 1. Prov. viii. 17. Tim. v. 6. Tim. ii. 4. 
 
60 YOUTHFUL SINS- l.OVE OP 
 
 ers of God." Though such are the declarations of 
 the Lord; yet, pleasure, pleasure, is the chief ob- 
 ject of thousands of the young. Some pursue it 
 in the gross and brutish paths of rioting and 
 drunkenness; of chambering and wantonness: 
 others, in less profligate ways ; but with hearts not 
 less intent upon it. The card-table, the dance, 
 the horse-race, the play-house, the fair, the wake, 
 are the scenes of their highest felicity. My young 
 friend, has not this love of worldly pleasure dwelt 
 in your heart? Perhaps you have not run into 
 scandalous and disgraceful excesses; but have 
 you not had a greater love to worldly pleasures, 
 than to God and religion.' If you have, you but 
 too surely bear that awful mark of being a child 
 of destruction, that you are a lover of pleasures 
 more than a lover of God. Have not you been 
 present at scenes of sinful amusement and guil- 
 ty festivity ? Have not you been as anxious as 
 others, for those sensual delights which were most 
 suited to your taste? and, while thus loving this 
 world, have not you forgotten that which is to 
 come? Have not you been more pleased with 
 some shining bauble or glittering toy, than with 
 the blessings displayed in the gospel ? and been 
 more earnest about a day of promised pleasure, 
 than about securing an eternity of pure celestial 
 joy? Think not that I mean to insinuate, that 
 the Christian should be the slave of melancholy. 
 Far from it; none have so much reason to be 
 cheerful as he, who reads his title clear to heaven. 
 But, wide is the difference between the innocent 
 cheerfulness and humble joy of the Christian, and 
 the vain pleasures of a foolish world. The truly 
 religious have their delights; though they know, 
 that there is 
 
PLEASURE — SABBATH-BREAKING. 6l 
 
 No room for mirthful trifling here 
 For worldly hope or worldly fear. 
 
 If life so soon is gone ; 
 If now the Judge is at the door, 
 And all mankind must stand before 
 
 The inexorable throne. 
 
 Let conscience now answer, as in the sight of 
 God ; has the love of worldly and sensual plea- 
 sure been cherished in your heart ? If your sit- 
 uation has prevented your freely following the 
 delights of sense, has the love of them dwelt with- 
 in? If it has; though you should not have had 
 the opportunity of indulging your worldly taste 
 once in a month, or a year, you are still, in God's 
 sight, as much a lover of pleasures, as if these 
 had occupied every moment of your time. 
 
 § 8. Sabbath-breaking, though not confinea ^o 
 the young, is a sin that eternally ruins thousands 
 of them. God calls the sabbath-day his own; 
 but makes the profit of it ours : and sabbaths 
 spent in holiness, devotion, faith, and love, are 
 blessings which help the soul on towards heaven; 
 while, broken sabbaths increase the sinner's load 
 of guilt here, and of misery hereafter. At the 
 beginning of time God set this blessed day apart 
 for sacred uses; and his express commandment 
 is, "Remember the sabbath-day to keep it holy." 
 Ex. XX. 8. He calls for the day. He does not 
 say, keep holy the sabbath morning, or the sab- 
 bath afternoon, or the sabbath evening; but, the 
 sabbath day. Though this awful commandment 
 is thus positive and express ; yet, no sin is more 
 common than sabbath-breaking. Some profane 
 the whole day ; others a part of it. Some em- 
 ploy many of the precious hours of the sabbath, 
 
 in attending to their worldly employments; 
 6 
 
C2 YOUTHFUL SINS — ENTICING OTHERS TO SIN. 
 
 others make it a season for finery and gaiety. 
 They go even to the house of God, merely to see 
 or be seen. They idle away their sacred time, in 
 trifling; conversation, vain amusements, and silly 
 mirth; or, waste the holy day, in rambling in the 
 fields with companions as frivolous and worldly 
 as themselves. Yet sabbath -breaking- is the fruit- 
 ful source of sin and misery. A sabbath-break, 
 er is justly described, as "one who despises his 
 Maker; rebels against the King of kings defies 
 his vengeance, provokes his wrath; disgraces the 
 Christian name; tramples on the laws of his coun- 
 try ; ruins his own soul; and poisons others by 
 his fatal example." And how have your sab- 
 baths been spent? Have you been one of the 
 thoughtless young women, or loose young men, 
 that, on the sabbath-day, in giddy, but truly piti- 
 able parties, throng our streets, or wander in our 
 fields? Have you been one, who has made that 
 most blessed day no blessing to yourself? 
 
 § 9. The apostle Paul, when enumerating 
 some of the sins of mankind, concludes the 
 dreadful list with that, of their taking pleasure in 
 the sins of others : Rom. i. 28. This, though 
 one of the most awful, is one of the most com- 
 mon of human iniquities ; and abounds among 
 none more than among the young. Young per- 
 sons are often each other's tempters and destroy- 
 ers. The lewd and profane, tempt others to 
 lewdness and profaneness. The thoughtless and 
 the gay, persuade others to imitate their levity 
 and folly. As if it were not sufficient to have 
 their own sins to account for, many thus make 
 themselves partakers in the sins of others; and, 
 as if it were not enough to ruin their own souls, 
 many thus contract the guilt of assisting to de- 
 
ADDRESS. 63 
 
 stroy those of their companions and friends. 
 Have you never thus led others into sin ? Per- 
 haps some, who are now lost for ever, may be 
 lamenting, in utter darkness and despair, the fa- 
 tal hour when they became acquainted with you. 
 Have any learned of you to trifle with religion ; 
 to squander away their golden day of grace ; to 
 slight their God ; and choose perdition? If not 
 by words, yet, perhaps, by a careless and irre- 
 ligious example, you have taught th^n these 
 dreadful lessons. 
 
 § 10. I have now named a few youthful ini- 
 quities ; but, think not that these things are all. 
 No; every sin to which our fallen nature is 
 prone, has been found, not merely in those, who, 
 by years, were ripened in guilt ; but, in those al- 
 so, who were beginning the journey of life. 
 And, not to enumerate the darker crimes of the 
 multitude, who drink in iniquity like water; 
 where, my young friend, is the youthful heart, 
 that never felt the rising emotions of those in- 
 fernal passions, pride, envy, malice, or revenge ? 
 Where is the youthful tongue that never uttered 
 a profane, or wanton, or, at least, an unkind, or 
 slanderous word ? Where is the youth, possess- 
 ed of the forms of piety, that never mocked God, 
 " with solemn sounds upon a thoughtless tongue !" 
 W here is the youthful ear, that was never open, 
 to drink in with pleasure the conversation of the 
 trifling and the foolish? and where the youth- 
 ful eye, that never cast a haughty, an angry, 
 a wanton, or insulting glance? Are you the 
 person ? Can you appeal to the Searcher of 
 Hearts, and rest your eternal hopes on the suc- 
 cess of the appeal, that love, unmingled love to 
 God and man, has always dwelt in your bosom; 
 
64 PRAYER FOR A PENITENT. 
 
 that no resentful, envious, or unkind emotion, was 
 ever, for a moment, harboured there; that a law 
 of constant kindness has ever dwelt upon your 
 lips; that only meekness, and tenderness, and 
 goodness have glanced from your eye ; and that 
 your ear was never opened to hear, with pleasure, 
 ol a brother's shame ? Can you make the appeal ? 
 Surely you cannot. Your own " heart condemns 
 you; and God is greater than your heart, and 
 knoweth'all things." 
 
 A PRAYER FOR A YOUNG PERSON, SENSIBLE OF BJ^NG, IN 
 A GREATER OR LESS DEGREE, GUILTV OF THE SINS 
 ENUMERATED IN THIS CHAPTER. 
 
 O Lord, the great, and dreadful God, whose 
 mercies are numberless, I have sinned, and com- 
 mitted iniquity before thee. Permit me to ap- 
 proach thee ; and enable me to come with all the 
 humility of repentance, and all the ardour of 
 gratitude. If I never prayed before, now may I 
 learn to pray. Thou art the Father and the God 
 of those, who rest in heaven : and O ! show me 
 thy forgiving mercy; and give me that interest 
 in thy beloved Son, which shall prepare me to 
 join their triumphant family. But a moment ot 
 time separates me from the dead ! yet, alas ! how 
 unprepared am I for the solemn change of death ! 
 I see, I feel this dreadful truth ; but, how much 
 more visible is it. Lord, to thee ! Once, careless 
 and unconcerned, I felt no alarm at the thought 
 of meeting thy pure and holy Majesty. Ah, sad 
 insensibility ! had I then been called to meet 
 thee, 1 must now have been lifting up my eyes 
 in hopeless misery. If, taught by thy word, I 
 review my life, I see it a constant blot. I look 
 
PRAYER FOR A PENITENT. 65 
 
 back to my childhood ; and, behold, alas ! how 
 soon the corrupt dispositions of my nature ap- 
 peared ! As my years increased, my sins gain- 
 ed strength; my heart became more estranged 
 from thee ; and my life more sinful in thy sight. 
 Thou lovest humility ; but, I have been proud. 
 Thou hast commanded me to revere the authors 
 of my being; to listen to their counsels ; and, by 
 tenderness, to requite their affection : but, how 
 often have I slighted their instructions ; forgot- 
 ten their kindness ; been undutiful to- them, and 
 in them to thee ! Thou hast directed me to view 
 life as a dream ; and, as my great concern, to 
 seek first thy kingdom and righteousness : but, 
 I have presumed on future days, and wasted 
 those thy mercy gave me. I have minded the 
 things of time ; and forgotten those of eternity. 
 Instead of seeking my happiness in Jesus, and 
 in thee ; I have sought delight amidst the follies 
 of time, and have grovelled upon earth, when I 
 should have been soaring to heaven. I have, 
 loved — O most patient God I may I dare to 
 confess it ; yet, confess it or not, thou knowest 
 the horrible sin — I have loved the shadowy 
 pleasures of this world, more than I have loved 
 thee. O, that this stony heart might break while 
 I acknowledge my guilt ! I have sunk lower than 
 the brutes that perish : they, formed for this 
 world, fill up aright their places in it ; but I, cre- 
 ated to know thee, to serve thee, to love thee, and 
 to enjoy thee for ever, have yet grovelled in the 
 dust. 
 
 Thy word directs me to redeem the time ; but. 
 Oh ! how many precious hours, hours which the 
 dying would give worlds to purchase, have I sin- 
 ned and idled away ! Alas ! the hours that I 
 6=* 
 
66 PRAYER FOR A PENITENT. 
 
 have wasied on frivolous books, while thy bless- 
 ed word has been neglected ! The hours I have 
 squandered in trifling conversation and foolish 
 mirth, while not one word of my Redeemer, or 
 thee, or thy o;oodness, has dropped from my lips. 
 
 Thou, O Lord, hast commanded me to hallow 
 the sabbath ; but, I have wasted many of those 
 sacred days. When thy children have been reap- 
 ing immortal good ; I have been heaping up 
 wrath against the day of wrath. 'J'hose blessed 
 seasons, which might have been a foretaste and a 
 preparative for an eternal sabbath in thy heav- 
 enly courts, even those to me have been days of 
 thoughtlessness, sin, and folly. Or, if I have gone 
 to thy house ; yet, how often have pride, vanity, 
 and worldly pleasures filled my thouijhts, even 
 there, and I have departed iiom thy sacred 
 courts, unmoved by thy terrors, uncharmed by 
 thy love. When I look back upon my sabbaths, 
 what a dismal blank do they appear! 
 
 To thee, O Lord God, belong mercies and 
 forgiveness, though I have rebelled against thee. 
 Thou hast not been in all my thoughts. By 
 my ungodly life, I have said to thee, " Depart 
 from me, for I desire not the knowledge of thy 
 ways ;" and though thy beloved Son, once cru- 
 cified for my sins, has claimed my heart, I have 
 refused to listen to his call. And, yet, f have de- 
 ceived myself; have deemed myself almost in. 
 nocent; have thought my life righteous; and 
 treated humble piety with contempt and scorn. 
 True wisdom I have counted folly, and folly pri- 
 zed for wisdom. Merciful Lord, my lips, my 
 tongue, my eyes, my ears, my hands, my head, 
 have all sinned against thee ; but. Oh, my heart ! 
 the heart I deemed good, what madness has 
 
PRAYER FOR A PENITENT. 67 
 
 dwelt there ! There hidden lay the seeds of ev- 
 ery sm. There have those corruptions abode, 
 which hell takes pleasure in viewing, but whixih 
 heaven must mourn to see. There anger has 
 burned. There pride has swelled. There envy 
 and revenge have rankled. There vanity, indo- 
 lence, discontent, ingratitude, and all the detes- 
 table brood of human vices, have shown their 
 hateful forms. There too has reigned love for 
 the present dying world, that love which leads a 
 legion of iniquities in its train. And shall I now 
 plead, that I am innocent ? Shall I now declare, 
 that my heart is good, and my transgressions 
 few ? Merciful God, forgive the blindness which 
 deluded me with thoughts like tliese. No, O 
 my injured Father, the smallest sin against thee 
 is huge as the frowning precip«ice, dark as the 
 shadow of death, and horrid as the depths of 
 hell ; and the smallest of my crimes have been 
 as much committed against thee, as the more 
 profligate actions of some, who never enjoyed the 
 mercies with which I have been favoured. O 
 my God, as a sinner, I would cast me at the 
 feet of Jesus ! I cannot hide my guilt from thine 
 eyes; let me not hide it from my own. Thou 
 hast seen all my sins, hast called on me again 
 and again, and hast beheld the world and Satan 
 preferred to thyself Surely love like thine might 
 have melted a rock of adamant; yet, it melted not 
 my heart. Canst thou yet show mercy ? Thou 
 dost! O wonderful love ! shall I abuse it still P 
 O, rather may my pulse cease to beat, and the 
 warm blood to flow through my veins! Lord, 
 lead me to the rock that is higher than I! Lead 
 me to the atoning blood, which washes all sin 
 away. Lead me to Christ crucified. Forgive, 
 
68 RELIGION NEEDFUL TO ALL 
 
 for his dear sake, the past ; and O, give strength 
 and grace for the future ! I have lived long 
 enough, alas, too long! to the world, to Satan, 
 and myself; now let me live to thee. Now, for 
 Jesus's sake, guide me from sin to holiness ; from 
 folly to wisdom; from death to life; from vain 
 delight to real joy; and, finally, through the 
 Lamb that was slain, advance me from earth to 
 heaven, there to praise, bless, magnify, and 
 adore redeeming love, through ages without end. 
 O gracious Lord, hear my requests, for Jesus's 
 sake. — Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE NATURE OF REAL RELIGION BRIEFLY DESCRIBED. 
 
 That religion is the chief concern of all, is 
 the declaration of the Most High ; and early 
 religion is what he solemnly requires. "Re- 
 member now thy Creator in the days of thy 
 youth, while the evil days cohie not, nor the 
 years draw nigh when thou shalt say, I have no 
 pleasure in them." It is as much as if it were 
 said, " Mind religion while you are young. Let 
 that engage your earliest care. Let that possess 
 the first place in your heart; for it is worthy of 
 it. In the days of your youth, those best days, 
 prepare to meet your God. While young, make 
 him your friend ; seek an enduring mansion in 
 the skies; and thus, to every other source of 
 cheerfulness, add those last and best, your heav- 
 enly Father's care, and your gracious Saviour's 
 love." The blessed Redeemer, who spake as ne- 
 
 Eccles. xi L 
 
BUT, REGARDED BY FEW. 69 
 
 ver man spake, affectionately declares the impor- 
 tance and value of real piety. "One tiling is 
 needful." "What shall it profit a man, if he 
 gain th^ whole world, and lose his own soul?" 
 
 Most persons will acknowledge the excellen- 
 cy and importance of religion ; yet, few are its 
 real friends. "Few there be that find it." Ma- 
 ny are entirely careless of it. Others have the 
 form without the power. Others play the hypo- 
 crite's part; they "speak fair words and act 
 foul deeds, lift their eyes to heaven and turn 
 their steps to hell." Religion is not, like many 
 worldly advantages, a blessing that descends 
 from parents to children, from heir to heir. The 
 child of the most pious parent is, by nature, as 
 destitute of the dispositions which constitute re- 
 ligion, as the child of the most profligate. It is 
 not, like the endowments of body or mind, as 
 wit, beauty, strength, a blessing that we natu- 
 rally possess; for, the dispositions of the mind, 
 by nature, are altogether opposite to those of re- 
 ligion. Nor is religion a blessing that can be 
 acquired without opposition and difficulty. The 
 command of Christ is, "Strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate." These words import, contending in 
 the most resolute and earnest manner, and, as it 
 were, forcing a way through whatever may oppose. 
 § 2. Many, my young friend, are the sources 
 whence this opposition arises. The corruptions 
 of your own heart will oppose the entrance of 
 divine truth into your soul. The false and de- 
 ceiving opinions of the world would teach you, to 
 look on real religion as enthusiasm, and to treat 
 it with aversion and contempt The evil Spirit, 
 that great enemy of God and man, by every de- 
 Luke, X. 42. Mark, rlii. 36. Matt. vii. 14. Luke, xiii. 2:i. 
 
70 NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 lusion which he can present to your mind, will 
 endeavour to prevent your submitting to Jesus 
 Christ; and often but too successful are his ex- 
 ertions. " The god of this world hatlf blinded 
 the minds of them which believe not ; lest the 
 light of the glorious gospel of Christ, should 
 shine unto them." 
 
 And now, while I endeavour to describe to 
 you what religion is, let me beseech you to unite 
 your prayers with mine, that you may indeed be 
 taught of God ; and let me beseech you to at- 
 tend as seriously to the plain and affectionate 
 truths, that may be presented to you, as you 
 would do if lying on a dying bed, and there 
 earnestly inquiring how salvation might be 
 found. 
 
 § 3. Religion consists in such a practical 
 knowledge of our own guilt and misery, as leads 
 us to abhor sin and ourselves ; and in such an 
 acquaintance with the blessed God, and the ado- 
 rable Saviour, as leads us to believe on Jesus 
 for salvation, and resting all our hopes upon his 
 atonement and righteousness, to trust our eter- 
 nal all to his care ; and to yield up ourselves, 
 body, soul, and spirit, to the Father as our Fa- 
 ther, to the Son as our Saviour, and to the Ho- 
 ly Spirit as our Sanctifier. 
 
 § 4. 'J'he foundation of religion is laid in a 
 knowledge of our own guilt and deprnvity. As 
 sickness teaches the patient to prize the physi- 
 cian's aid ; as slavery leads the captive to seek 
 for liberty ; and condemnation makes the crimi- 
 nal cry for mercy : so the knowledge of our 
 own condemnation and guilt, prepares the soul 
 for the reception of Jesus Christ. Are you ac- 
 
 2 Cor. iv. 3, 4. 
 
DEITY AND CONDESCENSION OF CHRIST. 71 
 
 quainted with this ? Are you sensible that you 
 have rebelled against a God of love ? and are 
 you penitent for your transgressions? You 
 cannot else escape destruction. The Lord has 
 declared, ''Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise 
 perish." '' God now commandeth all men every- 
 where to repent." This repentance consists, not 
 in a transient sorrow for sin, but, in such a sense 
 of its evil, vileness, and ingratitude, as begets in 
 the soul abhorrence of it, and an anxious desire 
 for deliverance from its power and punishment. 
 § 5. If knowledge of yourself, and of the evil 
 of sin, has humbled you in the dust, and led you 
 from the heart to exclaim, " God, be merciful to 
 me a sinner ;" then, permit me to add, that a most 
 essential part of religion, is an acquaintance with 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. Not a mere speculative 
 knowledge of his excellencies, like that which 
 even an infernal spirit may possess; but, such a 
 practical knowledge of his power and grace, and 
 such a belief in him, as subdues the soul, and 
 leads the penitent sinner to make Jesus his hope, 
 his trust, and his all. The substance of the gos- 
 pel message respecting Jesus Christ is, — that 
 his nature is divine: "He was in the beginning 
 with God, and was God." That his own compas- 
 sion and his Fathei-'s love, led him to assume the 
 nature of man: "He took on him the form of a 
 servant, and was made in the likeness of men;'* 
 " Though he was rich, for your sakes he became 
 poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich." 
 That his great object was to atone for sin : " He 
 was wounded for our transgressions, he was 
 bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of 
 our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we 
 
 Luke, xiii. 3. Acts. xyii. 30. John, i. 1. Phil. ii. 7. • 2 Cor. vili. 9. 
 
72 OFFICES AND ATONEMENT 
 
 are healed." That this wonderful plan, for the 
 redemption of a ruined world, was the effect of 
 the love and wisdom of God : "God commend- 
 eth his love towards us, in that, while we were 
 yet sinners, Christ died for us;" "We have re- 
 demption through his blood, the forgiveness of 
 sins, according to the riches of his grace, where- 
 in he hath abounded towards us, in all wisdom." 
 And, that Jesus Christ is now exalted at the right- 
 hand of power, to intercede for his flock ; to guide, 
 guard, and protect them ; to receive them at the 
 hour of death ; and hereafter to appear as the 
 Judge of all, when he will pass on all mankind 
 the sentence that shall fix their eternal state, and 
 when he will perfect the happiness of all his hum- 
 ble friends.* 
 
 § 6. The important doctrine of Christ's atone- 
 ment for the sins of man, may receive a plain 
 and familiar illustration, from the history of Za- 
 leucus, an ancient lawgiver. Among his laws 
 was one, which declared, that the eyes of an adul- 
 terer should be put out as a punishment for his 
 sins. It so happened that the king's own son 
 was the first convicted of the crime. The jus- 
 tice of the lawgiver called for the execution of 
 the sentence : the pity of the parent pleaded 
 for its remission. What was to be done? The 
 king at length determined, that his son should 
 lose one eye, and he himself would lose one. 
 Thus should the sin be punished, though he him- 
 self would bear part of the punishment due to 
 his guilty child. You here see such a stern re- 
 gard to justice, as would convince the whole na- 
 tion, chat the law could not be broken with im- 
 punity; and, yet, such fatherly compassion, as 
 
 l8.Iiii. 5. RoiB. T. 8. Ephes. i. 7, 8. « New Te»t. many passage*. 
 
OP THE LORD JESUS CHRIST. TO 
 
 should melt the heart of the half-pardoned offend- 
 er into deep repentance and self-abhorrence. 
 
 In the case of man, and in your own case, sin 
 has deserved eternal punishment. Its ivages 
 (that recompence which it has deserved) is death. 
 The justice of God called for the execution of the 
 sentence; but, his wisdom devised a plan of mer- 
 cy for a rebelhous world; and his compassion 
 induced him to adopt the plan. It was, that his 
 beloved Son should suffer for man, and bear the 
 curse instead of him : Gal. iii. 1 1. Thus would 
 sin be punished; and thus might the sinner be 
 entirely forgiven. Thus did God give to his whole 
 intelligent creation an awful proof, that sin, in his 
 dominions, could not escape unpunished. Yet, 
 while showing his infinite hatred of sin, he show- 
 ed his infinite love to ruined man, in thus ap- 
 pointing his beloved Son to stand in the sinner's 
 place; and in thus punishing in Christ the sins 
 of man, that the penitent sinner might go free. 
 
 § 7. An acquaintance with this divine Saviour 
 is absolutely needful for you. He is set forth 
 as the only foundation for the sinner's eternal 
 hopes. His is the only name by which a sin- 
 ner can be saved ; and he is the only way of ac- 
 cess to God. The way of salvation is, believing 
 on him from the heart. "Believe on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." "He 
 that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved.'* 
 But, my young friend, permit me affectionately to 
 caution you against deceiving your own soul with 
 the shadow of belief instead of the substance; for, 
 in one sense, "the devils believe and tremble.'' 
 Believing in Jesus is termed, in scripture, "be- 
 lieving with the heart." There is the consent of 
 
 Acts, xvi. 31. Mark, xvi 16. James, ii. 19. Rom. 1. 10. 
 
 7 
 
74 NATURE OF SAVING FAITH. 
 
 the heart to this plan of salvation, as well as the 
 persuasion of the mind. Believing on Christ is 
 described as a receiving of him. If you believe, 
 you will receive him as your Lord, your hope, 
 your Saviour, your all. Believing- is also de- 
 scribed, as bein^ a persuasion of divine truths, and 
 an embracing of them. If you believe on Jesus, 
 you will be persuaded, on God's authority, that 
 he is what the scriptures represent, an all-suffi- 
 cient Saviour ; that he has done what the scrip- 
 tures declare ; that he has laid down his life for 
 you ; and persuaded of these truths, you will em- 
 brace this great salvation. Believing is repre- 
 sented as ix going to Christ; it is such a convic- 
 tion of his power and grace as is attended by the 
 going, as it were, of the soul to him for life and 
 salvation. Look then to him. Rest your eter- 
 nal all on his righteousness and death. Let this 
 become your plea for obtaining mercy and hea- 
 ven, that Jesus loved you; that Jesus died for 
 you. Go in the solemn moments of retired de- 
 votion, and entrust your all to Jesus. Can you 
 not there say to him, to whom darkness and day 
 are alike, "Lord, I adore thee as my Saviour; 
 thou didst die for my sins, and I commit my 
 eternal all to thee. Wash me in thy blood ; wash 
 not my feet only, but also my hands and my head. 
 Thy gospel I embrace. All that thou discover- 
 est, let me believe ; all that thou teachest, let me 
 learn. Thy example I would follow. All that 
 thou lovest. let me love ; all that thou hatest, let 
 me hate ; and all that thou commandest, let my 
 faith, working by love, urge me to obey. Be thou 
 my all; thy death and righteousness, my hope; 
 
 John, i. 12. Heb. xi. 13. John, vi. 35. 
 
ENCOURAGEMENT TO COME TO CHRIST. 70 
 
 (hy life, my pattern; thy word, my rule; thy 
 glory, my aim ; thy love, my heaven." 
 
 A well -placed trust in Jesus Christ will be 
 found a sure support for hope, and peace, and 
 joy, when all other dependences sink in eternal 
 ruin, and all other hopes are blasted in black des- 
 pair. The soul, committed to his care, will be safe 
 through its little stay among the objects of time 
 and sense; and, what is far more important, will 
 be safe and happy when the graves are giving up 
 their dead, when the world is fleeing from the 
 majesty of its Maker's face, and when creation 
 is perishing in final flames. 
 
 § 8. But perhaps you ask, " May I thus ap- 
 proach the Lord ? may one so vile draw near to 
 him with confidence ?" You may ; his word de- 
 clares it. Come, says the compassionate Jesus, 
 " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are hea- 
 vy laden, and I will give you rest." " Him that 
 Cometh to me I will l\ no wise cast out." "He 
 is able to save to the uttermost, all that come un- 
 to God by him." " Whosoever will, let him take 
 the water of life freely." " Come, for all things 
 are now ready." "The blood of Jesus Christ 
 his Son cleanseth from all sin." A poor hea- 
 then was once directed to make atonement for 
 his sins, by driving iron spikes through his san- 
 dals ; on these to place his naked feet ; and in 
 them to walk about four hundred and eighty 
 miles. He began his painful journey ; but, halt- 
 ing under a tree, a missionary came, and preach- 
 ed in his hearing from, " the blood of Jesus Christ 
 cleanseth from all sin." While he was preach- 
 ing, the man rose up, threw away his torturing san- 
 
 Mattxi.28. John, ri. 37. Heb.vii.23. Rev.xxii.17. Lukt.xir.l?. 
 1 JoUa, i. 7. 
 
76 CHRIST THE christian's SOLE DEPENDENCE. 
 
 dais, and exclaimed, "This is what I want!" and 
 became a living- witness, that the blood of ('hrist 
 does cleanse from all sin. The same way for mer- 
 cy is open to you. If salvation is what you want, 
 you may find it in him who has saved thousands, 
 and who will save thousands more. Many a pro- 
 mise and many an invitation, unite to declare, 
 that you shall net apply to him in vain. 
 
 § 9. Numbers profess a reg^ard to Christ, 
 whose hopes are in reality built upon themselves; 
 and ihey imagine, that when they have done as 
 well as they can, Jesus will make up the rest. 
 Bui, that knowledge of the Saviour, in which so 
 much of religion consists, leads to very different 
 views. If you enjoy this, Jesus Christ will be 
 your all. You will, as a lost, helpless, condemn- 
 ed, and wretched creature, come to him for life. 
 Your whole trust will be in him : abhorring your- 
 self, you will flee to him as your sole dependence. 
 You will indulge no hope, from imagining that 
 your sins are few or small ; but, will own them 
 deserving of divine wrath. You will no longer 
 rest on the deluding, but absolutely false notion, 
 that you have done as well as you could, and that 
 therefore God will accept you ; but, you will be 
 humbled as a guilty creature at your Makei-'s 
 feet. Nothing past, nothing present, nothing 
 future of your own, must in the slightest degree, 
 be the ground of your dependence ; but, as stripped 
 of every thing, as in yourself destitute of all good, 
 you must look to the Lamb of God. A dying 
 minister, eminent in his day, once said to a visi- 
 tor that was taking leave of him, " Sir, I am eve- 
 ry day expecting my death ; but, I desire to die 
 like the thief, crying to the crucified Jesus for 
 mercy. I am nothing; I have nothing; I can 
 
HOLINESS ESSENTIAL TO RELIGION. 77 
 
 do nothing, except what is unworthy ; my eye, 
 and hope, and faith, is to Christ on his cross. I 
 bring- an unworthiness, like that of the poor dy- 
 ing- thief, unto him ; and have no more to plead 
 than he. Like the poor thief, I am waiting to be 
 received, by the infinite grace of my Lord, into 
 his kingdom/' 
 
 § 10. But, my young friend, do not mistake 
 the nature of the gospel ; or imagine, because 
 the soul is saved solely through the obedience 
 and death of Christ, upon its believing in him, 
 that, therefore, holiness of heart and life is an 
 unimportant thing. " Without holiness no man 
 shall see the Lord." When Jesus invites the 
 humbled soul to him, he adds, " Take my yoke 
 upon you, and learn of me." He says, "Ye are 
 my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." 
 " If a man love me, he will keep my words." 
 The true Christian's faith is represented, as " faith 
 which works by love ;" and without the fruits ot 
 holiness, " faith is dead, being alone." The Son 
 of God says to his friends, " I^et your ligh^. so 
 shine before men, that they may see your good 
 works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." 
 The apostle Paul argues, that true Christians are 
 dead to sin ; and declares, that the Son of God 
 gave himself for them, with this design, " that he 
 might redeem them from all iniquity, and purif} 
 unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good 
 works." If you, from your heart, receive the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, as your Redeemer, you will 
 also submit to him as your sovereign Lord ; 
 you will love the commandments of God, as just 
 and holy; you will yield up yourself, body, 
 
 Heb. xii. 14. Matt. xi. 29. John, xr. 14. John, xiv. 23. Gal. v. 6. 
 James, ii. 17. Matt. v. 16 Tit. ii 14. 
 
 7* 
 
78 THE CHRISTIAN NOT HIS OWN. 
 
 soul, and spirit, to tlie Lord Jesus Christ : that 
 whether you " live, you may live to the Lord ; 
 or whether you die, you may die to the Ijord." 
 While reliction leads you to trust the Saviour's 
 death, it will lead you to copy his life. 
 
 The threat principle of real holiness, implant- 
 ed in all who truly embrace the gospel, is, that 
 they are now no longer their own ; but, "bought 
 with a price," the price of " blood divine," nnd, 
 therefore, bound " to glorify God in their body 
 and spirit, which are God's," being now restored 
 to him, their rightful owner, and become the 
 property of God. From such a dedication of 
 the soul and body to Christ, flows holiness, far 
 superior to all the mere moral goodness (as it is 
 termed) of the world. They who are given up 
 to Jesus, wish to lose their own will and adopt 
 his ; to think, and act, and move., as he would 
 have them. Hence, their desires after increasing 
 and perfect holiness ; for, they belong to him 
 who is holiness itself. Hence, their love to a bet 
 ter world, and their deadness to this ; for, they 
 follow him, who cared nothing for this world, 
 but whose home was heaven. Hence, their lives 
 can no longer be devoted to the pursuit of tri- 
 fling vanities; for, they are not their own, but 
 have nobler objects to mind : they have a hea- 
 ven to reach ; a God to glorify ; and a Saviour 
 to honour, a Saviour, whose command to every 
 one of his disciples is, " Follow thou me." " H^ 
 has left us his example, that we should follow 
 his steps." 
 
 Take, my friend, a brief suiTey of his charac 
 ter, whom the Christian is ordered to follow 
 Love was the distinguishing trait in the charac 
 
 Kom. xiv. a 1 Cor. T.i. 2a I Pet ii. 21. 
 
THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 79 
 
 ter of Jesus Christ. Love to God, in the highest 
 degree ; love to man ; love to friends ; and love 
 to enemies. — Love to God swallowed up every 
 other passion in his breast. It was his meat and 
 drink to do his heavenly Father's will; as it 
 were, his refreshment and support, not his la- 
 bour and fatigue. Here was one mark of his 
 perfect love ; and submission to the will of God 
 was another. In the hour of his extremity his 
 language was, "The cup which my Father hath 
 given me, shall I not drink it?" "not my will, 
 but thine be done !" Frequent communion with 
 God in prayer and praise, displayed also the 
 heavenly love that glowed within his heart. — The 
 same gracious disposition appeared in him to- 
 wards mankind. He never laughed at human 
 follies ; but, wept for human sins and woes. He 
 laboured for the happiness of men. In the midst 
 of poverty, in spite of opposition, in the pros- 
 pect of death, he continued his labours; unhin- 
 dered by calumny, reproach, or ingratitude. 
 He lived, striving to make happy some of the 
 sons and daughters of Adam; and he died, to 
 open for them that way to heaven which none 
 shall ever shut. Such was his love to man. — To 
 his friends how tender ! Read his discourse to 
 them, and his prayers for them, in John's Gos- 
 pel, C. 14, to C. 17, and there behold the expres- 
 sions of his love. — To his enemies how kind! 
 Let his behaviour witness this, when he shed 
 tears for them who shed his blood ; oi when up- 
 on his cross he prayed, '• Father, forgive them, 
 for they know not what they do." He was meek 
 when insulted ; calm when provoked ; ready to 
 forgive an injury, and not to revenge himself up- 
 
 John, iv. 34 ; xriii. 11. Luke, xxii. 42; xxiii. 94. 
 
80 THE TRUE CHRISTIAN 
 
 on the injurer. No selfish passion dwelt within 
 his breast. Though rich, he had become poor, 
 tiiat through his poverty he might make many 
 rich. lie lived and died for others. His max- 
 ims were like himself, or like those of the liea- 
 ven from which he came; not like those of the 
 earth on wliich he abode. " Do good to them 
 tiiat hate you." " All things whatsoever ye 
 would that men should do to you, do ye even 
 the same to them." " It is more blessed to give 
 than to receive." " Lay not up for yourselves 
 treasures upon earth ; but, lay up for yourselves 
 treasures in heaven." Wherever the precious 
 gospel is embraced, and Jesus followed, a change, 
 most truly glorious and divine, will take place. 
 Under its heavenly influence man becomes a 
 " new creature ; old things pass away, and all 
 things become new." Let the passionate come 
 to Jesus; and mildness, in their breast, will take 
 the place of anger. The covetous will grow libe- 
 ral ; and from loving to grasp all they can, will 
 love to part with the utmost in their power. 
 The proud become humble. Drunkards learn 
 sobriety; and liars love the truthc Thieves be- 
 come honest. Sabbath-breakers improve the sa- 
 cred days they wasted once. 'J'he prayerless 
 learn to pray, and find their duty and their 
 pleasures united in devotion. The hard-heart- 
 ed change their natures for compassion. The 
 implacable learn to forgive, as they hope to be 
 forgiven. The earthly-minded renounce the 
 things of earth, and seek their treasures in hea- 
 ven. The man who trembled almost at a sha- 
 king reed, becomes, in his Redeemer's cause, 
 
 2 Cor. viii. 9. Matt. v. 41. Matt. vii. 12. Acts, xx. 36. 
 
 Matt vi. 19, 20. 2 Cor. v. 17. 
 
A NEW CREATURE. 81 
 
 fearless as a lion. And they who have been ad- 
 dicted to what are commonly esteemed the most 
 incurable vices, under the influence of true reli- 
 gion, change pollution for purity, wickedness for 
 holiness, and the likeness of devils for the like- 
 ness of God. It is true, these glorious victories 
 of divine truth and love often pass unnoticed by 
 the world. No tru*mpet sounds the Christian's 
 fame. No herald tells of his deathless victories. 
 He often lives and dies, honoured by his God, 
 and happy in him, though little known by man. 
 
 " Full many a gem, of purest ray serene, 
 The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; 
 
 Full mauy a Hower is born to blush unseen. 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 There are few situations in which Christians 
 can show those bright specimens of glowing pi- 
 ety, which dazzle the eyes of others : but, that 
 steady, humble, constant piety; those secret de- 
 sires for holiness and heaven ; that private, daily 
 converse with God in prayer; that cheerful, firm 
 dependence on the atoning Saviour; and those 
 attempts, in the retired scenes of domesti'c life, 
 to live as apostles would have lived, if placed in 
 a like situation — all this flows from following Je- 
 sus, as surely as water flows from a fountain. All 
 this is the effect of being not our own, but of hav- 
 ing Christ live in us, and being given up to the 
 Lord. If we were wandering in an unknowi 
 country, and having lost our way, had entrusted 
 ourselves to a guide; should we not renounce ou;; 
 own judgment, and our own will, and be so at 
 our leadei-'s disposal, that we might almost be 
 said to move with his feet, and to see with his 
 eyes ? Such is the case in religion. We have 
 lost our way to a better world : and, if Chrii-tians 
 
82 KNOWLEDGE OF GOD THE FATHER 
 
 indeed, shall commit ourselves to Jesus's care, to 
 be saved by him, in his way, by ^race alone; yet, 
 to go where he bids; to do what he enjoins; to 
 live as he directs; to love what he loves ; to hate 
 what he hates ; to shun what he commands ua 
 to avoid ; to sit at his feet and learn of him ; and 
 to "follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth." 
 
 § 11. Closely connected with the knowledge 
 of the Son, is the knowledge of the Father ; in- 
 deed, so closely, that they cannot be separated. 
 "This is life eternal; to know t«hee, the only true 
 God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." 
 Jesus was "God manifest in the flesh." In him 
 shone such a lively picture of the Fathei'^s excel- 
 lencies, that "he who hath seen him hath seen 
 the Father." Yet, it is proper to remind you, 
 that Jesus is your way to God. The design of 
 Christ is, to bring you to the Father, and recon- 
 cile you to him. He is the mediator, or inter- 
 cessor, by whom you may find acceptance with 
 your most compassionate but much-injured God. 
 The glorious perfections of God claim your most 
 devout reverence and admiration. Such is his 
 infinite majesty, that this vast world, with all its 
 islands, all its continents, all its nations, is in 
 his sight as the small dust on the balance, or the 
 drop of a bucket. Before him, 
 
 "Worms, angels, men, in every different sphere. 
 Are equal all; for, all are noticing here." 
 
 Such is his power, that in an instant he could 
 create a thousand worlds, and in another instant 
 could destroy them all. Such is his knowledge, 
 that he knows whatever has been, throuo^h the 
 eternity that is past ; and whatever will be, through 
 
 John, xrii. 3. 1 Tim. iil. 16. John, xiv. 9. John, xiv. 6. 2 Cor v. 18 
 li. xl. 16. 
 
ESSENTIAL TO RELIGION. 83 
 
 the eternity to come. He is acquainted with tlae 
 actions, words, and thoughts, of every one that 
 ever lived on the earth; he sees what now are 
 ours, and what will be those of all the nations 
 that are yet unborn. Such is his love, that, for 
 the sake of saving a lost race, he gave up to hu- 
 miliation, sorrow, and death, his best-beloved 
 Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, the partner of his 
 throne, "the brightness of his glory, and the ex- 
 press image of his person." "Thousand thou- 
 sands minister unto him, and ten thousand times 
 ten thousand stand before him." It is against 
 this great and dreadful, though gracious God, 
 that you have rebelled; but, the blessed Jesus 
 would lead you back to him. If you obey the 
 gospel, God will become your Father. To him 
 you will yield up what you have and are, as a 
 reasonable sacrifice. In him you will seek your 
 happiness; and in his presence your eternal rest. 
 To know him, to love him, and to enjoy his fa- 
 vour, will be the highest ambition of your soul. 
 
 "Give what thou wilt, without thee we are poor; 
 And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away." 
 
 Every mercy comes from God ; and every mer- 
 cy should lead you nearer and nearer to him. 
 The first and greatest of the commandments is, 
 to love him. Sin, indeed, has made you live, not 
 to God, but to yourself; selfish and lower views 
 have ruled in your heart : but, if, by the gospel, 
 you are led back to God, he will be your happi- 
 ness, and his glory your aim. It will be your 
 desire to be conformed to his will ; your pleasure 
 lo please him, so that truly, " you'll live to plea- 
 sure, while you live to Gud." Your interests, and 
 those of your Creator, will be no longer disjoined 
 
 Heb. i. 3. Dan. vii. 10. 
 
84 THE HOLY SPIRIT, AND 
 
 and opposite, but as^ain united. Your wish will 
 be, that his will may be done iii you; that his 
 will may done bij you ; and that his will may 
 be be done with you. 
 
 § 12. A very important part of religion is, a 
 knowledge of the Holy Spirit. Men, when first 
 awakened to regard divine things, often imagine, 
 that their own endeavours are to produce in them 
 those graces which real religion displays. The 
 word of God, on the other hand, represents them, 
 as formed by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spiwt 
 is promised to them that ask for his aid. The 
 Christian is " born of the Spirit." The Spirit is 
 sent, to " convince the world of sin." By the 
 power of the Holy Spirit, "the love of God is 
 shed abroad in the heart." By him hope abounds 
 in the believer ; his mind is enlightened ; he 
 is sanctified and strengthened by the Spirit of 
 God. By the Spirit he is taught to cry, " Abba 
 Father;" and ** love, joy, peace, long-suffering, 
 gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tempe- 
 rance," are the fruits of the Spirit. 
 
 All the graces of the Christian character, all 
 the parts of holiness, are thus produced by the 
 Spirit of God ; and while you are assured, that 
 " without holiness no man shall see the Lord ;" 
 you are taught, to look to God for his Spirit to 
 form your heart anew. While it is to be your 
 aim, to glorify God in all things ; your dependence 
 for ability to do so, is to be on the promised Spi- 
 rit. Yet, think not, that, on this account, slolh 
 and negligence in religious matters will be excu- 
 sed. The abuse, which Satan and the world 
 would have you make of this evangelical doc- 
 Luke, xi. i^i. John, iii.G. John, xvi. 8. Rom. v. 5. Rom. xv. IJ. 
 1 Cor, ii. 12. 1 Cor. vi. 1 !. Ephes. lii. Ki. Gal. iv. G. Gal v. Si 
 Jleb. xii. 14. John, rii. 37, 39. 
 
RIGHT IMPROVEMENT OF HIS GRACE. 85 
 
 trine, is, that if the work is thus God's, you need 
 not trouble yourself respectin<j^ it. A sure guide, 
 the Lord himself, makes a widely different infer- 
 ence. That he " works in you, both to will and 
 to do," is made by him the reason, why you 
 "should work out your salvation with fear and 
 trembling." When the husbandman in spring 
 scatters his seed on the ground, he cannot make 
 one corn produce a blade, nor one blade produce 
 an ear ; but, God, by his secret working, makes 
 the seed vegetate, clothes the field with green, 
 and, in the appointed weeks of harvest, loads it 
 with waving ears of ripened corn. Who produ- 
 ced this harvest ? Not man, but God. Yet, 
 would God have produced it if the husbandman 
 had neither ploughed nor sowed his field ? He 
 would have had no crop to reap if he had plead- 
 ed; "The work is God's, so I need not labour." 
 As it is in this case, so it is in religion. The 
 work is God's, and his shall be the praise ; yet, 
 man must use the means, and labour for his own 
 salvation. He can no more change his own 
 heart, than h.^ can make the hard earth bear 
 fruit ; but, let him use the means which his Re- 
 deemer puts in his power, and God will give the 
 blessing, through his abounding grace. But, if, 
 because salvation is of grace, and holiness by 
 the Spirit of God, men neglect the means, and 
 labour not for their own salvation; they have no 
 more prospect of eternal happiness, than a hus- 
 bandman would have of reaping an abnndant 
 crop, who never concerned himself with sowing 
 a single grain. If you turn to God, and believe 
 on Christ, you will be " a temple of the Holy 
 Spirit •" and should not his temples be holy'? 
 
 Phil. ii. 12, 13. 1 Cor. iii. 1& 
 
 8 
 
86 rilE CHRISTIAN'S CHOICE 
 
 With him working in your heart, how inexcusa- 
 ble would you be to continue the slave to sin ! 
 
 Thus you see what religion is. It consists not 
 in a round of outward forms, though, if it be en- 
 joyed, outward privileges will be prized and im- 
 proved ; it consists not in the strictest mere mo- 
 rality, though, if it influence the heart, hoV.ness 
 must surely follow : but, in such a knowledge of 
 GoQ in Christ, as makes believers his and not 
 their own. 
 
 § 13. If religion be chosen by you, you will 
 determine, in God's strength, to abide by your 
 choice to your latest day. While the almost 
 Christian halts between the world and Jesus, 
 those who really flee to him, do so to be his de- 
 cidedly. "The world will laugh at me," may 
 the young Christian say : " well, let it laugh : 
 if I may but enjoy the smile of God, I can beai 
 the senseless laugh ciT men! The world will 
 frown on me : well, let it frown ; it frowned 
 on my Master before me, and the disciple is 
 not greater than his Lord !" If you flee to Jesus, 
 you will flee to him to be his, not only deci- 
 dedly, but for ever. You will view religion as a 
 blessing, chosen once, but chosen for life. You 
 will value it as the one thing needful, compared 
 with which, suftering or delight, life or death be- 
 low, are nothing. You will view his gospel 
 as a blessing, most valuable in itself, and most 
 important to you, though there were not another 
 person on the face of the globe. As a blessing 
 so inexpressibly valuable and momentous, tha* 
 you would prize it, though it were neglected 
 by every human being but yourself, and though 
 all the nations of the earth should unite to deter 
 yoH fro'^-* pmbracing it. Such was the spirit of 
 
OF RELIGION A LASTING CHOICE. 87 
 
 the martyrs. Their religion was not a bless- 
 ing valued merely when the sun of prosperity 
 shone ; but, one to which they clung- when the 
 storms of adversity and persecution beat upon 
 ihem, and when the hour came that Christ or 
 life should be resigned. Though not called to 
 martyrdom, yet, that high degree of value for 
 Christ, which animated them, must dwell in your 
 heart, or your religion will be an empty name ; 
 for, the Lord has declared, " He that loveth father 
 or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; 
 and he that loveth son or daughter more than 
 me, is not worthy of me ; and he that taketh not 
 liis cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy 
 of me." " Whosoever he be of you that forsa- 
 keth not all that he hath, he cannot be my dis- 
 ciple.'' 
 
 § 14. You have already, in one or two instan- 
 ces, been referred to the parable of the prodigal 
 son ; permit me to refer you to it more at large, 
 as affording a beautiful description of real reli- 
 gion. In its first part (Luke, XV. 11 — 16), you have 
 a ])icture of man while destitute of real piety; 
 a })icture, my young friend, of what you yourself 
 have been. The prodigal loses all affection for 
 his father ; wanders from him ; squanders his all, 
 as if distracted ; and plunges deep in sin and 
 misery. You have wandered from a kinder Fath- 
 er ; and, as you were shown in Chapter II, have 
 acted, towards God, the prodigal's part. His sin 
 was followed by misery ; and, unless you repent, 
 youi-'s must be by eternal ruin. But he repented, 
 [n the second part of the parable, verses 17 — 19, 
 is contained a lively description of the nature of 
 real repentance. He came to himself; he felt 
 
 Matt. X. 37, 38. Luke, xiv. 33. 
 
88 RELIGION ILLUSTRATED FROM LUKE, XV. 
 
 his misery ; he was humbled for his sin and folly ; 
 longed for the meanest place in his father's house ; 
 and arose to seek forgiveness. Such is repentance. 
 The once careless sinner, the thoughtless trifler 
 comes, as it were, to his right mind ; he sees that 
 in neglectino' humble piety, and wandering from 
 his God and Saviour, he has acted as if bereft of 
 sense, and reason ; he abhors his sin ; he is hum- 
 bled for it ; he longs for a place, though it be the 
 meanest in the family of God ; religion, which 
 he once scorned, is now the object of his anxious 
 wish ; and, in sincerity and truth, he turns from 
 the ways of sin to seek his God. The reception 
 the prodigal met with, verses 20 — 24, displays the 
 nature of the gospel. No sooner did he sin- 
 cerely repent and apply for mercy, than he found 
 it. His father welcomed him to his bosom ; and 
 received him as his son again. Yet, observe, he 
 had done nothing to deserve his favour. It was 
 not of works (through any works of his); for, he 
 had returned to his parent a wretched, destitute 
 outcast : yet, no sooner did he return, than he 
 was fully and freely forgiven ; his transgressions 
 were blotted out ; and he restored at once to his 
 father's favour. Such is the grace displayed to 
 you in the gospel. It is as free ; it is as full. 
 No works of yours can deserve the favour of 
 your God ; you have none that are worthy of 
 his regard. What had the prodigal? But, he 
 was immediately and freely forgiven ; so will 
 you be, if you come to God by Christ. You are, 
 in a spiritual sense, as destitute, as wretched, as 
 guilty as he ; but, mercy as great is ready, at 
 once, upon your believing from the heart on 
 Christ, to forgive you, and save you, and make 
 you a child of tlie Most High. Observe one 
 
NATURE OF CHRISTIAN OBEDIENCE. 8^ 
 
 particular more. The prodig-al, thus freely par- 
 cloned, was admitted ag-ain as a son into his fath- 
 er's family. What would be his conduct there? 
 Surely every motive of gratitude and love, would 
 urge him to obey his fathei-'s will : but, the mo- 
 tive would not be, that he might find mercy, for he 
 had found it ; it would not be, to gain admission 
 into his father's house, for he had gained it : far 
 nobler motives, the motives of love, would influ- 
 ence his conduct. Such is the obedience, which 
 I have described as the fruit of religion. Evan- 
 gelical obedience springs from love, that love 
 which faith produces. The true Christian serves 
 God, not to gain admission into his Fathei-'s 
 family ; for, when he came to Christ he gained this 
 blessing: but, he renders to him the obedience of 
 a child, thankful for a thousand favours. " He 
 is justified by faith alone, yet not by a faith which 
 is alone, but which contains the seeds of univer- 
 sal obedience;'* and having found mercy of the 
 Lord, he lives to God. The difference between 
 the state of mind in a person hoping to gain hea- 
 ven, by his defective obedience, and that of the 
 person, justified by faith, is well described in the 
 following lines of one of Cowper's hymns : 
 
 "Then all my servile works were done 
 
 A righteousness to raise; 
 Now, freely chosen in the Son, 
 
 I freely choose his ways. 
 
 "What shall I do, was then the word, 
 
 That 1 may worthier grow ^ 
 What shall I render to the Lord? 
 
 Is my inquiry now. 
 
 "To see the law by Christ fulfil'd. 
 
 And hear his pard'uing voice. 
 Changes a slave into a child, 
 
 And duty into choice 
 
 8* 
 
90 EARLY PIETY DISPLAYED BY 
 
 § 15. Ilavinn^ now described to you what reli- 
 gion is, it may seem almost superfluous to add, 
 that early piety consists in your thus becomino; 
 a disciple of Christ in your youthful days. If 
 this be your wisdom and happiness, you will give 
 your youth to God. You will listen to him, say- 
 ing:, "Wilt thou not from this time cry unto me, 
 My Father, thou art the i^uide of my youth ?" 
 and the language of your heart will be, "Bless- 
 ed God, by thy help, I will. I consecrate the 
 morning of my life to thee. I owe thee as much 
 as eternity can acknowledge. Take then, O take 
 the little, yet the best, that T can offer; the prime, 
 the flower of my days. Most young persons a- 
 round me are ruled by the maxims of a corrupt 
 world; sinful nature governs them; evil com- 
 panions lead them astray ; and Satan urges them 
 to perdition: but, Lord, I will listen to thy voice. 
 Be thou my guide through all the slippery paths 
 of youth. I cry to thee as my Father; I seek 
 thee now as such ; and let me love and obey thee 
 as a friend, to whom my welfare is dearer than it 
 is to myself." 
 
 If early piety, my young friend, be yours, in 
 youth you will forsake the world, and dare to stand 
 up for God and religion. While thousands of 
 the young are building all their hopes upon this 
 fleeting scene; yours will be fixed on things un- 
 seen and eternal: while they are trifling witii 
 the Saviour's love, you will i^ladly listen to his 
 voice, and learn of him. Yes, in youth, you 
 will accept the proffered Saviour. To him you 
 will flee, and to him may you say, "Dear Lord, 
 my youth is thine. I gladly yield to thee thft 
 best of m y hasty life ; gladly for thy sake renounce 
 a deceiving world. For, O ! what didst thou not 
 
EARLY SELF-DEDICATION TO CHRIST. 91 
 
 yield up for me ! It is but a few false vanities 
 that I resign, when resigning the world for thee; 
 and while I part with a little dross, in thee I shall 
 tind inestimable treasures. Blessed Jesus, thou 
 didst part with real happiness on my account. 
 Brighter glories, than thy angels wear, thou didst 
 resign for me. Thou didst forego on my account, 
 nobler joys than those to which I aspire in thy 
 presence. Take then my youth. Too much of 
 it has already been lost ; but, Lord, accept its re- 
 mains; and let not another of my days be spent 
 in the service of a world, that murdered thee ; 
 or of thy great enemy and mine. "Love so 
 amazing, so divine," as is thy love, demands my 
 youth, " my soul, my life, my all." 
 
 Thus, my young friend, if true piety is yours, 
 must you renounce all that religion opposes; thus 
 change your object, your master, and your way; 
 and thus devote yourself altogether to him, who 
 died on your account. Without this, to hope for 
 heaven, is as distracted as it would be, if you thi^ew 
 yourself from the top of a precipice, to hope that 
 you should not fall. It is hoping against hope. 
 The word of God is plain, that, without conver- 
 sion, there is no salvation. 
 
 § 16. Many persons eminent for piety, when 
 devoting themselves to the Lord, have done so in 
 a written form of solemn self-dedication; and 
 many pious divines have recommended this prac- 
 tice. The following is a short form of this kind, 
 a copious and excellent one is given in Dodd- 
 ridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. 
 
 Great and ever blessed God, I humbly ap- 
 proach thee, to engage myself to thee in a cove- 
 nant that I hope shall never be forgotten. Feel- 
 ing that everlasting salvation is of more conse- 
 
92 A FORM OF SOLEMN 
 
 quence to me than a thousand worlds could be, 
 imd knowinij;' that I am under infinite obliga- 
 tions to yield up myself to thee, I solemnly de- 
 clare, that I take thee as my God. 
 
 I sincerely renounce this present evil world : 
 I will not seek my portion in it; and its sinful 
 customs, vanities, and delights, I give up; while 
 in the world, it shall be my part, to live as not of 
 it, })ut as a traveller to a heavenly country. 
 
 I solemnly take thee as my Father ; in thy fa- 
 vour and love I will seek my happiness, and in 
 thy presence my rest. I yield up myself to thee, 
 to be disposed of according to thy will, and to 
 be governed by thy laws. 
 
 I receive the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour; 
 I confess myself an unworthy and miserable sin- 
 ner ; I look upon thee, O Lord Jesus, as sent by 
 God to suffer for me; as my atoning Saviour I 
 receive thee, and would rest all my hopes on thy 
 atoning death and perfect righteousness ; and I 
 give up myself to thee, to be thy disciple and lo 
 follow thee. 
 
 As solemnly would I give up myself to the 
 Holy Spirit as my Sanctitier; praying that his 
 divine illuminations may enlighten my mind, 
 and his powerful influences completely change 
 my heart. By his teaching I would be taught, 
 and his influence I will seek. 
 
 Thus I give up the world for thee, O my God : 
 and solemnly yield up myself, body, and soul, 
 and spirit, to thee, O Father, as my Father ; to 
 the Son, as my Saviour; to the Holy Spirit, as 
 my Sanctifier: and now, with thee for my wit- 
 ness, I confirm this holy engagement. 
 
 And, O blessed God, I enter into it solemnly; 
 for, I do it a-S in thy bight 
 
SELF-DEDICATION TO GOD. 93 
 
 Fully ; for, I make no secret reservation, but 
 would be entirely thine. 
 
 Freely ; for, no constraint compels me, but it is 
 the choice to which thy grace has led me. 
 
 Deliberately ; for, I have considered what I am 
 now doing-. 
 
 And for ever ; for, this is the choice to which, 
 by thy help, I will adhere till death removes me 
 to meet my God. 
 
 A PRAVER FOR A YOUNG PERSON, DESIROUS OF COMING 
 TO GOD AND CHRIST FOR HAPPINESS. 
 
 Blessed and glorious God, thou art the happi- 
 ness of heaven ; and saints and angels find eter- 
 nal good in thee. All thy family, in those man- 
 sions above, are satisfied in thy likeness, and 
 drink of the river of thy pleasures. Thin is the 
 veil which separates me from the eternal world ; 
 but, wide the gulf that would have divided me 
 from tlieir society, their pleasures, and their praise. 
 A guilty child of man, I knew thee not. Corrupt 
 and averse to good, I sought thee not. Ignorant 
 and blind, I walked in darkness ; and, yet, I 
 thought I saw. Enslaved as the wretch that is 
 bound in fetters of iron, and helpless as he who 
 has lost every limb, I still knew not my captivity, 
 and felt not my helplessness. Thus, gracious 
 God, I might have continued, till the flames of 
 hell had flashed before my departed and trem- 
 bling spirit, if thy mercy had not interposed. 
 But, O, eternal praises to thy name! that thou 
 hast pitied, that thou hast helped a creature lost 
 like me ' Glory be to thee, that I hear of mercy ! 
 Glory m the highest, that thy Son has brought 
 it to the world I For this shall thy praises be 
 prolonged, through successive ages, till the last 
 
94 PRAYER FOR ONE 
 
 trumpet shall summon thy children to the wor- 
 ship of a better world. Surely the praises of 
 eternity will be too few for compassion like thine; 
 and the glowing offering of the hosts of heaven, 
 cold, compared with the fervour of thy love. 
 Great God, I praise thee for mercy I I praise 
 thee for thy Son I Thou hast marked out the 
 way of life. Thou hast shown the palh of peace. 
 Thou hast assured me, that by thy grace he tasted 
 "death for every man;" that "he was wounded 
 for our transgressions, and bruised for our in- 
 iquities." 
 
 Now, O my God, let this blessed Redeemer be 
 my way to thee. Without thee, earth is but a 
 wilderness; and heaven, without thee, would be 
 no longer heaven. Thy presence can cheer the 
 darkest gloom; change night to day; and pain 
 to ease: sorrow to delight; poverty to riches ; and 
 death to life. Thy presence can make the mar- 
 tyi-'s dungeon fairer than the monarch's palace; 
 and the sad stillness of the chamber of death 
 more pleasing than the voice of melody. Thy 
 love can make the dismal grave a more welcome 
 habitation, than the most cheerful dwelling 
 where harmony and affection abide. Thy love 
 is a treasure, compared with which the wealth 
 of worlds were poverty ; and, O, a treasure, 
 which the enmity of worlds could never take 
 away ! Thy presence darkens all terrestrial 
 glory, and makes earthly beauty charm no more. 
 To know thee, to love thee, and delight in thee, 
 is a heaven below, a heaven even in the midst 
 of conflicts and pain ; but, O, what a neaven is 
 theirs, who know thee, and love thee, and re- 
 joice in thee in heaven itself! Great God, may 
 this happiness be mine ! May I, a sinful child 
 
DESIROUS OF COMING TO CHRIST. 95 
 
 of sinful man, a worm, a leaf, a shade, aspire 
 so high ! May I presume to call thee, the eter- 
 nal Jehovah, mine ! Ah ! Lord, I may. Years 
 ago I might ; but, I slighted thee, and this un- 
 speakable blessedness. O ! well might my heart 
 sicken, and my head grow dizzy, with shame 
 and horror, to think of having slighted thee ! 
 But, now no more, O gracious Lord ! I would 
 act the prodigal's part no more. I come to thee ; 
 be thou my blessedness, or none will ever be 
 mine. I come to thee ; teach all my heart to 
 bow before thee. liCt love draw me to thy 
 throne. Let faith repose on thy promises. Let 
 submission make thy pleasure mine. Let me be 
 a wanderer no more. Take the remainder of 
 my youth, and let my life, longer or shorter, be 
 all thy own. 
 
 And thou, O blessed Saviour, thou art revealed 
 to me as ihe way to happiness, to heaven, and 
 God. To thee I come for life, and help, and ev- 
 ery good. Thy precious blood was shed for me. 
 Thy righteousness is sufficient to clothe my guil- 
 ty soul. I am nothing. I have nothing to pre- 
 sent to thee, but what is unworthy of thy notice. 
 JNJy prayers, my praises, my holiest actions, need 
 to be sprinkled with thy atoning blood. But, 
 didst thou not come to save the lost ! and I am 
 lost. Art not thou the way, the truth, and the 
 life ! Be thou mv life. Wash me in thy all- 
 cleansing blood. Form me to thine image. 
 Come, possess my heart, and by thy Spirit 
 dwell in me. Guilty, let me flee to thy blood. 
 Helpless, let me lean on thy arm ; and worthy 
 of destruction only, let me plead thy death be- 
 fore thy judgment throne. Act as my interces- 
 sor above ; and make me thy humble friend 
 
96 PRAYER CONTINUED. 
 
 below. I would sit at thy feet, and learn of 
 thee ; and, while I trust thy death, would wear 
 thy image, and reflect, in some humble dei^ree, 
 thy lovely likeness. J^ike thee, may I be patient, 
 humble, meek. Like thee, may I requite evil 
 with kindness, and enmity with love. To thee 
 may my life, my all be consecrated ; and may 
 death appear but a kind messenger^ sent to 
 fetch me to thyself. From this hour may my 
 youth, my health, my strength be thine. May 
 thy love animate me; thy precepts guide, and 
 thy example direct me ; thy promises cheer, and 
 thy cautions warn me ; thy hand support me ; 
 and, at the last, let me lean my dying head on 
 thy compassionate arm, aiid find death swallow- 
 ed up in victory. — Then may I praise thee in 
 those brighter courts, for that grace which dis- 
 covers to me the way of life, and which inclines 
 me now to yield my fair but fleeting youth to 
 thee. 
 
 But what, great God, am I ! and what my re- 
 solutions and desires ! Alas ! I am weak as a 
 reed, and my resolutions have been like the 
 morning cloud or tlie early dew ; yet, let me 
 })lead with ihee, for thy promised Spirit. Hast 
 thou not promised, that thou wilt give the Holy 
 Spirit to them that ask thee? Bestow on me his 
 sacred influences. With them water and refresh 
 my soul. Let his holy motions incline me to 
 every gracious act and desire. My soul is natu- 
 rally like a dark and barren desert; but, blessed 
 with his influences, the darkness will disperse, 
 and the wilderness will blossom as the rose. He 
 must teach me to know thee, or I shall never 
 know thee aright. He must teach me to love 
 ihee, or divine love will be for ever a strangei 
 
CAUTIONS AGAINST FALSE HOPES. 97 
 
 to my breast. He must discover to me all the 
 excellencies of my great Redeemer ; for, without 
 his teaching, all other would be in vain. Great 
 and blessed God, give me thy Holy Spirit, and 
 let me vield my heart to his sweet and gentle 
 guidance. Let him lead me into all important 
 truth. Let him fashion my soul anew ; and 
 create in me a clean heart ; and renew a right 
 spirit within me. By him, may all those dispo- 
 sitions that shall flourish in heaven, be formed 
 within my soul during its abode on earth. 
 
 Father of all mercies, hear and grant my re- 
 quests, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CAUTIONS AGAINST SOME DELUSIVE SUPPORTS, ON WHICH 
 MANY REST THEIR HOPES TO THEIR ETERNAL RUIN. 
 
 §.1. It is extremely evident, from the word 
 of God, that many fatally deceive themselves, 
 with respect to their spiritual state. They 
 say to themselves. Peace, peace ; while God de- 
 clares, there is no peace to persons in their con- 
 dition. Like a captive, who dreams of liberty; 
 but, wakes and sees the horrid walls of his dun- 
 geon around him : so they indulge the hope of 
 heaven, till death puts an end to the deceitful 
 dream; they awake in eternity, and find them- 
 selves for ever undone. Such is the deceitful- 
 ness of the human heart, that you cannot too so- 
 licitously guard against its delusions, and those 
 of the world, that would blast all your hopes of 
 happiness, and cover you with confusion and 
 horror, when expecting joy and glory. 
 
98 CAUTIONS FROM THE HISTORY 
 
 § 2. One of the most common is, the belief, 
 that all those are Christians who bear the Chris- 
 tian name, whose lives are virtuous, and whose 
 deportment and temper are lovely. But, alas 1 
 all this is found in thousands, who know nothing' 
 of real religion; and, with respect to eternity, 
 all these fair appearances and pleasing recom- 
 mendations will avail not, if there be not true pi- 
 ety within. Perhaps this can scarcely be made 
 more evident, than by referring you to the history 
 of one, who possessed these qualifications in no 
 common degree, but who still wanted the one 
 thing needful. 
 
 In Matt. C. 19, Mark, C. 10, or Luke, C. H, an 
 instance of this kind is recorded. "When the 
 Lord had gone forth into the way, there came 
 one (a young ruler) running, and kneeled to 
 him, and asked him, Good master, what shall I 
 do, that I may inherit eternal life V' He was so 
 moral a person, that he could say, with respect to 
 many of the commandments of God (at least as 
 far as his outward conduct was concerned), "all 
 these have I observed from my youth." " And 
 Jesus beholding him, loved him ; and said. One 
 thing thou lackest; go thy way, sell whatsoever 
 thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt 
 have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the 
 cross and follow me. And he was sad at that 
 saying, and went away grieved. He was very 
 sorrowful, for he was very rich." There cannot 
 be a reasonable doubt, that this young man was in a 
 state of sin and death, notwithstanding all that 
 seemed so promising and fair; and, perhaps, this 
 Ihtle history is recorded, to show how far a person 
 may go in morality and a concern fjr religion, 
 and yet fall short of heaven. There are but few. 
 
 i 
 
OF THE YOUNG RULER, MARK, X. 99 
 
 in the morning of life, so amiable, and, according^ 
 to worldly views, so good as this young man; 
 and, yet, with much that was lovely, he was a stran- 
 ger to real piety. He came running to the Lord, 
 to inquire how he might reach a better world. 
 Thus he manifested earnestness and humility. 
 He was not ashamed to seek instruction, but went 
 to Jesus with that most serious question, "What 
 shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" His 
 thoughtfulness about eternity was the more obser- 
 vable, as he was rich, and exposed to the snares 
 that accompany wealth. Justly has it been ob- 
 served, "that his concern about his soul was not a 
 sick-bed meditation, for he was in health ; nor a 
 melancholy qualm of old age, for he was young; 
 nor was it the effect of his being discontented and 
 out of humour with the world, for he was rich 
 and prosperous." The manner often recom- 
 mends the action; and there was much that was 
 pleasing in his manner. Though possessed of 
 wealth and honour, and coming to one that ap- 
 peared poor and despised ; yet, he used no haugh- 
 ty freedom, but approached his instructor with 
 humility and respect. Besides all this, there was 
 something more substantial in his character. In- 
 stead of running into licentiousness and riot, he 
 had atterhded to the divine commandments. His 
 life had been moral; he had been a dutiful son; 
 was most probably affectionate and kind; and 
 doubtless had secured the esteem .of his friends; 
 when even the Lord saw so much that was pleas- 
 ing in him, that, beholding him. he loved him. 
 But, when the blessed Saviour put him to the test, 
 whether he would part with all for Christ and hea- 
 ven, then his heart failed him : and he showed, that 
 with bo much that was lovelv about him, he still 
 
100 CAUTIONS — SPECULATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 was in reality a lover of this world; and if any 
 man, young or aged, wicked or virtuous, ''if any 
 man love the world, the love of tlie Father is not 
 in him." Yet, even the manner of his departure 
 proved the interest he took in the question he 
 had proposed; he went away grieved, and was 
 very sorrowful. In short, he was such a one, that 
 we may readily wish all young persons were like 
 him; and, yet, he was such a one, that we must 
 wish them to be much more than he was. In the 
 general, you may learn from this affecting little 
 history, that all which may gain the esteem of 
 man, will be of no avail, as to the salvation of 
 your immortal soul, if that true piety, which leads 
 the soul to count all things loss for Christ, be 
 wanting. 
 
 Having taken a brief view of this instructive 
 case, let me lead your thoughts to a few more 
 j)articular cautions. 
 
 § 3. Guard against their dreadful delusion, 
 who put a knowledge of some sacred truths in the 
 place of religion itself Many such self-deceiv- 
 ers abound in the world. They can discourse 
 on the hallowed themes of the gospel ; but, are 
 strangers to its influence and })ower. To hear 
 them talk, you might think them Christians; to 
 see them act, you might suppose them heathens. 
 The word of God declares, that all knowledge 
 without charity (or love), is vain, and that its pos- 
 sessor is nothing. Fallen and infernal spirits 
 probably know much more of some sacred sub- 
 jects than the most eminent Christians in this 
 life, yet they are devils still. 
 
 § 4. Watch against resting your eternal hopes 
 on outward privileges. You live in what is term- 
 
 1 John, ii. lo. 1 Cor. xiii. 2. 
 
DELUSIVE HOPE FROM PRIVILEGES. 101 
 
 ed a Christian land, but this does not make you 
 a Christian ; for a true Christian is a child of God 
 "by faith in Christ Jesus." The youno; ruler 
 was favoured with outward privileges. The in- 
 habitants of Capernaum had enjoyed them ; but 
 sunk the deeper in hell throug^h abusing them. 
 And many, who ate and drank in the presence oi 
 Christ himself, and in whose streets he taught, 
 will hear him say, " Depart from me, all ye work, 
 ers 6f iniquity." The man without the wedding 
 garment had been invited to the gospel feast; 
 though his dreadful doom was outer darkness, 
 where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. 
 Perhaps you, my young friend, have enjoyed all 
 the privileges of a pious education; yet think not 
 that these will take you to heaven. You must 
 be born again. Your parents' prayers will not 
 fix you in glory, if you do not learn to pray. 
 Your parents' faith will not be accounted yours. 
 Though you should have had parents as pious, 
 and as beloved by God, as Abraham himself; 
 yet the language of the divine word is, "Think 
 not to say within yourselves, we have Abraham 
 to our father, for I say unto you, that God is 
 able of these stones to raise up children unto A- 
 braham ;" and not merely is he able, but soon- 
 er would he do so than violate his word, by ad- 
 mitting an unconverted soul to heaven. Many 
 parents will be found at the right-hand of Christ, 
 whose children will never join ihem there; and 
 many children who found the way to glory, 
 though their parents lost it. 
 
 § 5. Trust not, my young friend, your eternal 
 hopes on the strictest attention to the outward 
 
 Gal. iii. 26. Matt. ». 23, 21. Luke, xiii. 27. Matt xxii. %$, 
 Matt. iii. 0. 
 9* 
 
102 CAUTIONS. — FORM OF RELIGION. 
 
 forms and duties of religion. Though you should 
 say, All these have I observed from my youth ; yet 
 this observance is not a foundation on which to 
 rest for eternity. O eternity, eternity ! who can 
 be anxious enough to build their hopes aright, 
 when building for eternity ! Perhaps, from your 
 infant days, the house of God may have been 
 your resort. Perhaps, few sabbaths could be nam- 
 ed, on which you have not been there. Perhaps, 
 in your chamber, or your closet, your morning 
 and evening devotions have been regularly paid. 
 Possibly, few days could be found, in which from 
 your earliest childhood to the present period, you 
 have missed this stated offering to heaven. Per- 
 haps, you are disposed to ask, What more can I 
 want? Alas ! you may have done all this, and 
 yet want every thing that most concerns you. 
 You may want a new heart, and an interest in 
 Jesus Christ. The Christian cannot live with- 
 out prayer; but some attention to its outward 
 forms does not make a Christian. God, it is true, 
 may have had your words, but who has had your 
 thoughts? Who has had your heart? Has he 
 had these too ? Have not these often been em- 
 ployed on other subjects, when, on your knees, 
 you professed to be engaged with God? While 
 some have passed months and years without 
 prayer, you may have constantly attended to re- 
 ligious duties ; but how little earnestness, how 
 little sincerity, how little life, has there been in 
 them ! Consider how often, in private, you have 
 knelt down and rose again, without a serious 
 thought of God; how often, in public, you have 
 listened with careless indifference : and then 
 think, whether you, too, may not be said to have 
 spent days and monliis without prayer; and 
 
FREEDOM FROM OPEN VICE. 103 
 
 whether you have not really resembled those, 
 who live without God in the world. But if your 
 devotions have been ever so fervent and sincere, 
 still they are not the foundation for a sinner's 
 hope. Jesus alone is that foundation. 
 
 § 6. Trust not your eternal all to the greatest 
 freedom from open vice, and to, what the world 
 might term, an innocent life. You have already 
 been shown, that there is no life so innocent as 
 to give a well-founded hope of meeting God with 
 comfort; that the young, as well as the aged, 
 without a Saviour, are undone for ever ; and that 
 what the world esteems almost an innocent life, 
 is, in the sight of God, a life of base ingratitude 
 and iniquity. Perhaps, the open vices which 
 ruin many, have not debased your character. 
 Perhaps, the impious profanations of the swear- 
 er never escaped your lips. Perhaps, the excess- 
 es of the drunkard or the libertine have not pol- 
 luted you. Perhaps, your tongue has usually ut- 
 tered truth, and the arts of the liar have been un- 
 known to you. You may have been free from 
 these and other open vices; yet this cannot give 
 you the faintest well-founded hope of acquittal 
 at the great day of judgment, for you have sins, 
 and it is impossible to express the evil of the 
 smallest sin. Christ represents those whose sins 
 are least and fewest, as owing to God ten thou- 
 sand talents ; none owe less, though some may 
 owe more. Thus the most virtuous and the most 
 abandoned, in the sight oi'God, approach much 
 nearer to each other in guilt than you probably 
 imagine. Trust not, then, to any fancied free- 
 dom from sin. It can hardly be urged on you 
 too earnestly, that a single unpardoned sin is 
 sufficient to damn a soul to all eternity. Did 
 
104 CAUTIONS. — MERE MORALITY. 
 
 not one sin sink ano;els from heaven? Did not 
 one, that would now be termed a little sin, turn 
 Adam out of Paradise ? 
 
 § 7. Rest not your everlasting all upon the 
 goodness or morality of your life. Morality is a 
 lovely thing; it will adorn, but it cannot make 
 a Christian. A person may be moral, yet a stran- 
 ger to religion ; but cannot be religious, and not 
 be moral. Various causes may produce morality 
 of conduct, while the heart is altogether estrang- 
 ed from God. The young ruler, already mention- 
 ed, could say, respecting an outward attention to 
 many of the commandments of God, All these 
 have I observed from my youth ; yet he w as per- 
 ishing in sin. In his case, you see how moral 
 may be the life, how lovely the deportment, how 
 earnest after religion, the desires of one, who, 
 after all, may fall short of religion, and thus fall 
 short of glory. Has your morality been stric- 
 ter than his ? has your deportment been more 
 amiable, or your desire after eternal life more 
 earnest ? If not, how can you hope for heaven 
 on this ground, when he had all these, and yet 
 was in the way to hell ? 
 
 § 8. If you should not rest your eternal hopes 
 on any of these things, much less should you 
 on any other amiable qualifications. 
 
 Many young persons are possessed of a va- 
 riety of these, who are destitute of all true pi- 
 ety. Though they^^vfle with God and eternity, 
 yet affection to relatives and friends seems to 
 dwell in their hearts. Cheerfulness and good- 
 humour beam from their countenances, and the 
 accomplishments of science adorn their minds. 
 All they seem to want is the one thing needful ; 
 but wanfiT^.^ time, as to the etenial world, they 
 
AxMIABLE QUALinCATIONS. 106 
 
 want every thing. Only the recommendations of 
 that humble piety, which makes Jesus all in all, 
 would avail them there. The charms of religion 
 only will bloom beyond the grave ; those of per- 
 son, of disposition, of deportment, will not long 
 keep their power to please. Where true piety 
 is absent, these are momentary attractions, that 
 must shortly fade, and leave no trace behind. 
 Very quickly the most sensible tongue will be as 
 silent as the most silly. Loveliness and defor- 
 mity will be alike in the grave ; and those of 
 the most amiable manners, and most engaging 
 deportment, there be on an equality with the 
 savage and the brute. The charms of beau- 
 ty, of manners, of wit, may adorn the young in 
 their hasty journey to an endless world ; but re- 
 ligion only will prepare them for a heavenly home. 
 Those may glitter on the casket ; but only that 
 will beautify the jewel. If then, my young friend, 
 you would know your real state, examine not 
 from what pollutions you may have been kept 
 free ; not what moral duties you have practised ; 
 not what religious ordinances you may have re- 
 garded ; or with what attractions you may be 
 adorned : but inquire, are you acquainted with 
 the sinfulness of your own heart ? Have you 
 ever experienced repentance towards God ? 
 Have you ever committed your helpless soul to 
 the Lord Jesus Christ? and sought your hap- 
 piness and eternal good in him ? If you are a 
 stranger to all this, you are a stranger to religion. 
 § 9. I may not improperly adrl, that if you 
 would guard against deception on this most mo- 
 mentous of all subjects, you should endeavour 
 to fix on your mind an abiding impression of 
 the absolute necessity of real conversion. Con- 
 
106 MEDITATIONS ON THE 
 
 Kider, that without this you cannot be saved. 
 Tlie words of Christ are, " Verily, verily, I say 
 unto thee, except a man be born of water and 
 the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 God:" (John, iii. 5.) He does not say, except 
 a man be virtuous in his habits, or moral in his 
 life, or except he attend the outward ordinan- 
 ces of religion, he cannot see the kingdom of 
 God ; for all this he may mind, and never reach 
 heaven: but, "Except a man be born of the 
 Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 God." lie represents that divine change which 
 passes on the hearts of all those that come to 
 God by him, as essential to the happiness of 
 your soul. By his atoning death, he removed 
 the obstacles to your happiness that lay on God's 
 part ; and, by conversion, would remove those 
 which spring from yourself. Be assured, on 
 God's authority, there is no new-discovered way 
 to heaven. The path is marked out. Repent, 
 and flee from the wrath to come. Believe, and 
 yield thyself to Christ. 
 
 ^ 10. A MEDITATION ON THE SUBJECT OF THIS CHAP- 
 TER, CONCLUDING WITH A PRAYER. 
 
 And is it indeed true, O my soul, that the way 
 of life is thus narrow ! And can it be, that with 
 so much to adorn the outward character, the heart 
 may still remain in the gall of bitterness, and in 
 the bonds of iniquity ! Awakening truth ! let it 
 awaken thee. It is thy Judge that says. Wide is 
 the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to de- 
 struction, and many there be which go in thereat. 
 It is he that tells thee, that many are called, but 
 fow chosen. Wilt thou trifle with his word ! Wilt 
 
WANT OF REAL PIETY. 107 
 
 thou deceive thyself, and hope against hope, 
 when vast eternity shall be the measure of tliy 
 sufferings or joys, and when the smile or the 
 frown of thy God awaits thee! Wert thou now 
 going into his presence, where would the next hour 
 find thee ? O my soul, thou must appear before 
 that Judge, whose eyes are as a flame of fire; 
 who knows all thy secret sins, and from whom 
 the minutest circumstance cannot be concealed : 
 and what plea can I present to gain his pity ? 
 Shall I tell him that some knowledge of himself 
 has been mine ; that, unlike the perishing hea- 
 then, I called him Lord ? but, has not he said, 
 " Not every one that saith unto me. Lord, Lord, 
 shall enter into the kingdom of heaven." Would 
 not this plea for mercy aggravate my guilt, and 
 cause even the heathen to rise in the judgment 
 against me to condemn me ! They knew him not, 
 and could not love him ; but I heard of him, 
 and would not love him. Or should I plead the 
 privileges I have enjoyed ? Should I tell him of 
 parents, now in heaven, whose prayers ascended 
 to his throne for me ? but, alas I my abused privi- 
 leges double all my guilt. Should I plead with 
 him that my life has been fair, my deportment 
 lovely, my temper kind, my conduct just? but 
 can all this extenuate my rebellion against him, 
 and my forgetfulness of God ? I know how vain, 
 how very vain, it would be for a criminal ar- 
 raigned ibr murder and treason, to plead in his 
 defence, that though certainly guilty of these 
 crimes; yet that he had never stolen a flower from 
 his neighbour's garden, or an apple from his or- 
 chard : nor will it more avail me, when charged 
 with ingratitude to my best benefactor, with rebel- 
 
108 PRAYER FOR TRLK PIETY. 
 
 lion against my God, to plead, in excuse for those 
 vilest of sins, my kindness to my fellow-worms. 
 
 How solemn is the warning given me, from 
 his sad condition, whose history 1 have been con- 
 sidering ! How lovely was his deportment ! how 
 moral his conduct ! how pleasing his early de- 
 sire to fmd the way to life eternal ! yet I have 
 seen that the one thing he still wanted. And hast 
 thou, my soul, that one thing ? hast thou even as 
 much to plead as he ? Can I say with him, All 
 these have T kept from my youth ? Have I, in 
 a humbler sphere, as seriously inquired the way 
 to life and peace, as he did, in the midst of the 
 cnsnarements of riches and power? Far as he 
 went, he did not go so far as to become a Chris- 
 tian altogether ; and what am I, whose concern 
 for religion has been so much less fervent, whose 
 outward conduct so much less conformed to the 
 will of God ? What then wilt thou do, O my 
 soul ? canst thou bear to be banished from the 
 realms of joy and love, and to hear thy now com- 
 passionate Saviour bid thee depart for ever ? 
 
 O my God, never let me hear those awful 
 words. Here I bow before thee, and have not 
 one plea for mercy, drawn from any thing in my- 
 self, whicli would deserve thy notice. But strip- 
 ped of every other, let this be my plea, that Je- 
 sus died for me a sinner. Thou hast taught me 
 what to do ; hast directed me to apply to him 
 for lile and peace. In him, thou hast laid a 
 foundation on wliicli I may build for eternity. 
 There let me rest rny all. 
 
 Wean me altogether from every other depen- 
 fiance. Sc.trch me and try me. If I deceive my 
 own soul, discover to me the delusion, and save 
 me from reposing my eterna. hopes on anj thing. 
 
WORTH OF THE SOUL. lO.O 
 
 except on the crucified Redeemer. Many, O 
 Lard, are the devious paths of error; while strait 
 IS the way of life, yet, though strait, it leads to 
 heaven. In that secure and peaceful path, O 
 God, may T walk. May I be found in Christ. 
 May I abide in him ; and by this sacred connex- 
 ion with him, be blessed in this life and for ever. 
 And thou, blessed Jesus, be thou my hope and 
 peace, and may I find thee my Almighty Sa- 
 viour. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL A REASON FOR EARLY 
 PIETY. 
 
 § 1. The chief design of the preceding chap- 
 ters has been to make you sensible of youi 
 need of spiritual blessings ; and to give you a 
 brief view of the nature of religion. Consider 
 now more fully some of those reasons, which 
 should induce you to embrace religion without 
 delay. And may God enable me to set them 
 before you with that affectionate earnestness and 
 plainness, which become a dying creature, when 
 addressing another who must soon be an inhabi- 
 tant of heaven or hell ! 
 
 One most weighty motive, to induce you to 
 give your youth to God, is, that you possess an 
 immortal soul. The body is the inferior part 
 of your nature. Pass away a few short years, 
 and it must mingle with the clods of the valley. 
 By the body you are allied to worms and dust ; 
 by the soul, to angels and to God. 
 
 It is almost impossible to use words strong 
 enough to express the worth of the soul. Such 
 10 
 
1 10 WORTH OF THE SOUL, AS I.-VLMORTAL. 
 
 is its value that a glorious end were answered, if 
 the earth and skies were maintained in beinij for 
 ten thousand ages, merely to ripen one soul for 
 immortality and heaven; and the labour of my- 
 riads of men and angels, through ten thousand 
 thousand years, would be well employed, in di- 
 recting one lost soul to a Redeemer. Chc of 
 our poets, when glancing at the starry firmament, 
 and comparing its glories with the soul, remarks 
 with not more fervour than truth — 
 
 "Survey that midnight glory ! Worlds on worlds ! 
 
 Amazing pomp ! Redouble that amaze ! 
 
 Ten thousand add ; add twice ten thousands more, 
 
 Then weigh the whole ; one soul outweighs them all ; 
 
 And calls the astonishing magnificence 
 
 Of unintelligent creation poor." 
 
 Another poet, with equal truth and beauty, 
 says, 
 
 "The sun is but a spark of fire, 
 A transient meteor in the sky ; 
 The soul immortal as its Sire, 
 
 Shall never die." 
 
 § 2. Your soul is immortal. It derived its 
 being from God. If religion be your choice, it 
 will siiine brighter than the stars of the firma- 
 ment, when all those stars are gone out in eter- 
 nal night. 
 
 A few years will finish all your delights, and 
 hopes, and fears, below ; then will your soul be 
 fixed where it must live for ever. While you, 
 my young friend, read these lines, the souls of 
 millions are encountering all the sorrows, or are 
 gladdened with all the joys of an endless world. 
 For ages have the bodies of many of them been 
 turned to dust ; their very tombstones are mould- 
 ered away ; but they all live in eternity, though 
 
ITS VALUE PROVED BY MARTYRS. 1 I 1 
 
 forgotten here ; they are hidden from your si'^ht, 
 but are more alive to joy or sorrow, than they 
 r.ver were upon earth. Soon will the time ar- 
 rive, when you must meet this solemn chanj^e 
 of being; when you must converse with man 
 no more, but must become a companion of 
 angels or of devils. And, O, what is the worth 
 of a soul ! that may, through endless ages, shine 
 in heaven, glorious as an angel of light; or 
 which, covered with darkness^ misery, and de- 
 spair, must become a devil, in that lake of fire, 
 where the fire never shall be quenched. O ! in 
 pity to your own precious and immortal soul^ 
 embraces without delay, the gospel of your Godo 
 § 3. The worth of the soul is a subject, on 
 which men of all descriptions have agreed ; on 
 which, the best and wisest have had their testi- 
 mony confirmed, by the most careless and the 
 worst. Martyrs have shown their sense of its 
 value, by all their sufferings to secure its salva- 
 tion. For this, thousands, as sensible as you of 
 the comforts of life, have willingly forsaken "kin- 
 dred, country, friends, and ease ;" have been tor- 
 tured on racks, or devoured by beasts of prey; 
 been burned alive, or suffered torments far more 
 intolerable than burning ! "And others had trial 
 of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreo- 
 ver, of bonds and imprisonment; they were sto- 
 ned ; were sawn asunder; were tempted; weie 
 slain with the sword ; they wandered about in 
 sheep-skins and goat-skins ; being destitute, af- 
 flicted, tormented ; of whom the world was not 
 worthy ; they wandered in deserts and in moun- 
 tains, and in dens, and caves of the earth." 
 (Heb, xi. 37.) Impressed with the worth of the 
 soul, many, with these dark scenes before them. 
 
1 12 TESTIMONIES OF THE DYING 
 
 have bid farewell to all the allurements of the 
 world, to meet the roui^hest storms of persecu- 
 tion, face its dangers and sink into the grave 
 beneath them. Yet while some were burning, 
 others were coming forward to take their places 
 in the true spirit of the English martyr, who, at 
 tlie place of execution, kissed the stake and ex- 
 clamied, "Welcome the cross of Christ, welcome 
 everlasting life." Does one of all these martyr- 
 ed myriads repent? Does one now imagine 
 that he suffered more than salvation was worth ? 
 Ah no, if they could now address you, they 
 might tell you, that sooner than lose the soul, 
 they would burn in flames a thousand times hot- 
 ter ; suffer torments a thousand times more pro- 
 tracted ; prisons a thousand times more dismal ; 
 and meet death, in forms, if possible, a thousand 
 times more terrible. And was it worth their 
 while, to endure so much to reach heaven ; and 
 is it not worth yours, in earnestness, to seek ad- 
 mittance there ? 
 
 § 4. If, after the testimony of such distin- 
 guished witnesses, you should hearken to theirs, 
 who have trodden a less brilliant and less suffer- 
 ing path to heaven, their testimony would be the 
 same. Say to the dying Christian, "You are in 
 those circumstances, which enable you to view 
 tliis world and the next aright ; what should I 
 mind ?" He, in purport, would reply, " Take 
 careof your soul.** A dying saint said, to some 
 friends that visited him, " You come hither to 
 learn to die.. I can assure you that your whole 
 life, be it ever so long, is little enough to pre- 
 pare for death. Have a care of this vain deceit- 
 ful world, and the lusts of the flesh. Be sure 
 you choose God for your portion : heaven for 
 
TO THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 1]3 
 
 your home ; God's s^lory for your end, his word 
 for your rule ; and then you need never fear, but 
 we shall meet with comfort."* Or ask the dying 
 proflio;'ate, he who treated all religion as a dream, 
 and the soul as a trifle, say to him, " What shall 
 r chiefly mind ?" and would he not reply, " Take 
 care of your soul, and avoid my folly ; for I have 
 mined mine.'* One unhappy man, who had liv- 
 ed in wealth and splendour, but had trifled with 
 eternal things, a short time before death, said, 
 "I had provided in the course of my life, for ev- 
 ery thing except death, and now, alas ! I am to 
 die, although entirely unprepared. "f Another, 
 who was eminent for his wisdom and learning, 
 but who had been negligent of the great salva- 
 tion, said, "It is lamentable, that men consider 
 not for what they are born into the world, till 
 they are ready to go out of it."+ Another, who 
 was distinguished for his talents, his ambition, 
 and his success in gaining worldly honours, not 
 long before his death, cried out, " O my poor 
 soul, what will become of thee ! whither wilt thou 
 go!'>§ 
 
 § 5. Have you, my young friend, never been 
 in that situation, in which the world appeared a 
 dream, a cheat, a nothing ? Have you never 
 lain upon the bed of sickness, and passed weari- 
 some days and sleepless nights of languor or of 
 pain ? Have you never been in such circum- 
 stances as to expect that a few days or weeks would 
 end your mortal course, fix your body in the 
 grave, and your soul in eternity ? and have you 
 forgot what were then your views and feelings? 
 Did the world appear as enchanting to you then, 
 
 * Ri'.;hard Baxter. 
 + Csosar Rorgia. J Sir T. Smith. i Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 10* 
 
114 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 
 
 as it does now ? Did the sonl and its salvation 
 then seem a thing of little moment ? Rather did 
 not the world seem vanity of vanities ? Were you 
 now on a bed of sickness, or languisliing and 
 dying, would not these be your views "^ And 
 must not you, ere long, be in such a situation ? 
 And will you not then confess, that the only 
 thing that deserves your care is the immortal 
 soul ? O, why neglect it, when you might secure 
 its salvation ! Why put oft' entering the way of 
 life, till that way is shut for ever ? By the tes- 
 timonies of others to the worth of the soui, and 
 by the convictions of your own mind, I beseech 
 you to secure its salvation, by applying, with- 
 out delay, to the Son of God for life. 
 
 § 6. Reflect on the interest taken in the wel- 
 fare of your soul by those who are best acquaint- 
 ed with its worth. If you, my young friend, 
 were to behold a person in danger of death, 
 and to witness a whole kingdom filled with anx- 
 iety on his account ; to see the monarch stoop- 
 ing to the meanest offices of kindness ; all faces 
 filled with anxiety, all hearts with concern, for 
 this individual : you might justly believe him to 
 be one held in the highest estimation. Consider 
 then, I beseech you, the interest which all the 
 inhabitants of heaven take in the welfare of the 
 soul. Angels, those blessed spirits, to whom 
 all the glory of this world would seem a con- 
 temptible dream, are not uninterested where the 
 soul is concerned. " There is joy in the presence 
 of the angels of God over one sinner that repent- 
 eth." And as they rejoice at the conversion of 
 a soul ; so they watch, doubtless, with pleasure 
 over the steps of their future companions above. 
 
 Luke, XV. 10. 
 
TESTIFIED BY ANGELS AND BY GOD. 115 
 
 Sent by their Creator on errands of kindness, 
 they descend to earth, and attend the soul i'n its 
 progress towards heaven ; and when its pilgri- 
 mage is concluded, become its convoy to the 
 abodes of l)lessednesg. O my young friend, shall 
 these happy spirits take so much interest in the 
 welflxre of your soul ; and will you yourself be 
 careless ? Shall they be willing to minister to 
 you as unseen messengers of love; and will you 
 neglect that soul over which they would fain re- 
 joice, whose mortal course they would cheer- 
 fully attend, and which they would gladly con- 
 duel to the bosom of Christ ? 
 
 § 7. But it is not merely the inferior though 
 glorious inhabitants of heaven, whose conduct 
 testifies the worth of the soul. God, the great 
 and blessed God, has so loved the world, as to 
 give his only-begotten Son to be a ransom for 
 the ruined souls of men; and Jesus Christ, the 
 brightness of his Father's glory, has suffered and 
 died to redeem immortal souls from death. Raise 
 your eyes, and view the creation of God. Be- 
 hold the earth, the moon, the sun, the stars, and 
 all the wonders of the spangled sky ; and then 
 consider, that for that soul which you have pro- 
 bably neglected, yet for that neglected soul, the 
 Creator of this splendid train became a man of 
 sorrows and acquainted with grief. O learn, my 
 young friend, the worth of your immortal spirit, 
 from what passed on Calvary in its behalf I 
 See the God of glory resigning his best beloved 
 to unbridled fury, stripes, and death ; to the 
 torturing cross, the bloody spear, and the dismal 
 grave ! See the patient Son of God, patient 
 amidst enemies foaming with rage and breath- 
 
 See Ps. xci. 11. — Heb. i. 14— Luke, xvi. 22. 
 
116 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL SHEWN 
 
 ing out cruelty ; see him there accomplishing 
 what none but he could perform, and bearing a 
 load of human guilt and sorrow, more vast and 
 dreadful than any tongue can tell. See this, and 
 learn the value of your soul more strongly than 
 a whole creation could represent it to you. The 
 creation is worthless, compared with its glori- 
 ous Maker ; but its Maker bled for us. O, that 
 I could, with the earnestness of a dying man, 
 urge upon you the worth of a soul ransomed 
 by such a ])rice ! A soul lost is more than a 
 world destroyed. Compared with this loss, the 
 destruction of this vast world will be a trifle. 
 Never did its Creator assume human nature, 
 and die for its preservation from the final 
 flames; but O, a spirit, an immortal spirit, a 
 spirit for which Jesus died, if this is lost, what 
 ruin, what misery is this ! You gaze upon a 
 dying world, and, engaged with its trifles, per- 
 haps forget the immortal visitant within, forget 
 that you have a soul which shall outlive the 
 grasp of death, the bounds of time ; but, O, for- 
 get its worth no more I Well might you won- 
 der that such a treasure should inhabit a little 
 piece of breathing clay. And can it be to you 
 a matter of little moment, whether your immor- 
 tal soul be saved or lost ? Can you treat this 
 as a thing of small importance, when the great 
 God has stooped so low, and resigned so much, 
 to open for you a way to happiness. He has 
 withheld nothing that was needed to save you. 
 No higher, nobler gift did heaven itself contain, 
 than what he gave. Can you, will you, any 
 longer treat that salvation with indifference, 
 which the Son of God freely offers you, and 
 which he purchased for you at the expense of 
 
FROM CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS, 117 
 
 his throne, his happiness, and his life ? O ! 
 danger, very, very, very dreadful, from which 
 such a Saviour came to relieve us ! O blessed, 
 blessed salvation, which was obtained at so dear 
 a rate ! O precious, invaluably precious souls, 
 for which such a price was paid ! Such a soul 
 is yours. You have one, for which the Son of 
 God in torture died, and heaven lost its bright 
 inhabitant. Such is the value which God has 
 set upon your soul ; but, my young friend, how 
 have you ''alued it ? Perhaps, if poor, you have 
 laboured earnestly for to-morrow's bread, but 
 never spent an hour's care on your immortal 
 spirit ; or, perhaps, if in easier circumstances, 
 you have followed dress, gaiety, and pleasure, 
 careless what became of your soul in that 
 dreadful eternity, to which it hastes. O, act this 
 wretched part no longer ; but now make early 
 piety your choice ' Let not the blessed God be 
 so anxious for your everlasting welfare, and you 
 as careless of it 
 
 § 8. As thus, in the most affecting manner, 
 the Father and the Son have declared the value 
 of the soul; so also, my young friend, learn the 
 same, from all which the blessed Spirit does for 
 the salvation of sinful men. He strives with 
 them. It is by his light that they discern the 
 Father and the Son, Has not he exerted his 
 power in your heart ? Have not you felt those 
 convictions of sin and folly, those devout impres- 
 sions, and salutary desires, which really came 
 from above ? Has not the still small voice with- 
 in, as it were, said to you, "Turn to God; for- 
 sake the world ; your ways lead to misery, they 
 will be bitterness in the end ; trust in Christ and 
 be happy." Have not you banished the warning. 
 
118 FROM THE HOLY SPIRIT'S CARE, 
 
 and quenched the holy thoughts and desires, 
 thus given you from above ? Yet has he left 
 you ? Has not your conscience been alarmed ; 
 and these sacred impressions repeated again and 
 again ? Why does the blessed Spirit thus strive 
 with you P Why did he not take your first re- 
 pulse, and leave you for ever ? Why has he fol- 
 lowed you with these salutary warnings '^ You 
 did not seek them. Why has he made your 
 heart at times almost begin to melt ? Why let 
 you feel the sting of sin ? Why alarmed you at 
 your situation ? Why showed you your dan- 
 ger ? Why induced you at times, if you would 
 ij^o no further, yet to wish you were a Christian i* 
 To wish that you were like some that you per- 
 haps know ? Why has the blessed Spirit be- 
 stowed all tliis care on a poor, thoughtless, un- 
 grateful creature, whose heart has been shut 
 aoainst his gentle influence ? Why, my young 
 friend, but because he wishes you well for ever? 
 God would not have you perish. Shall angels, 
 shall the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, all, all be 
 filled with concern for the welfare of your soul, 
 and will you slight that soul yourself? 
 
 § 9. If, to all this evidence of the worth of your 
 soul, 1 add more, it shall be, that even the ma- 
 lice of devils may teach you the value of your 
 soul. You are taught, in the word of God, that 
 Satan walketh about as a roaring lion, seeking 
 whom he may devour. You are assured that 
 he comes and takes away the seed sown in the 
 careless heart ; and that we have to wrestle with 
 the rulers of the darkness of tliis world. The 
 word of God represents his power as great; his 
 influence is extensive; his devices are many. 
 
 1 Peter, v. 8. Matt, xiii ly. EpKcB. vi. 12. 
 
FR(»M SATAN'S MALICE. 119 
 
 Some he tempts to presumption, others to des- 
 pair ; and in a thousand different ways strives to 
 keep the sons of men fast in his hellish chains.* 
 But though the devil is a fallen and infernal spi- 
 rit, you have no reason to doubt that he was once 
 one of an exalted rank. He knows what heaven 
 is, for he has lost it ; he knows what immortali- 
 ty is, for he is doomed to it; and his artifices, 
 his assaults, his watchfulness, his activity, in the 
 dreadful work of destruction, prove how highly 
 he values the immortal soul. It is a prize which 
 he thinks worth his care and labour. No watch- 
 fulness seems to him too much for the accom- 
 plishment of its ruin. Though you may be in- 
 active, he is activity itself. Though you may be 
 negligent and slothful, in seeking the salvation 
 of your soul, he is watchful and diligent in seek- 
 ing its destruction. 
 
 4 PRAYER IMPLORING A DEEPER SENSE OF THE VALLE OF 
 THE SOUL, WITH A DEVOUT COMiMITTAL OF IT TO THE SA- 
 VIOUR'S CARE. 
 
 O thou Almighty Father of Spirits, by thee 
 this curious mortal frame of mine was formed, 
 and from thee my immortal spirit came. Thou 
 didst create man to bear more of the image of 
 thyself, than any besides of these thy lower 
 works. Thou didst breathe into him the breath 
 of life, by which he became a living soul ; while 
 all thy other creatures here, are the creatures of 
 a day. From thee have I received a soul, that 
 must live through an eternity, as lasting as thy 
 own. I know, O Lord, that it is appointed unto 
 all men once to die ; and I, ere long, must sink 
 
 « The younjj reader is recommended to read Brookes's Precious 
 Remedies ajjaiust Satan's Devices, a truly excellent little work. 
 
120 PRAYER FOR A DEEPER 
 
 beneath the stroke of death. These hands \vil\ 
 forij^et to labour. These eyes will need the cheer- 
 inof li^ht of day no more. This tongue will be 
 silent. This heart will be filled with fear or love 
 no longer. These limbs will become cold in 
 death ; none on earth will be concerned w ilh me, 
 nor I with them ; but the worm will crawl and 
 feed upon this flesh of mine, or corruption con- 
 sume it, "till not one wretched trace remains 
 resembling me!'' But, O my God! that soul 
 which thou hast made the tenant of this dying 
 frame, must defy the power of death ; must 
 spring forward into new and unknown scenes; 
 must behold the glories or terrors of the invisi- 
 ble world ; while eternity, vast, boundless, joy- 
 ful, or dreadful eternity, becomes the only limit 
 of my suffering or happiness. With this pros- 
 pect before me, let me prize my soul as a trea- 
 sure, compared with which all the treasures of a 
 thousand worlds were emptier than a bauble and 
 lighter than vanity. O, let me feel its worth as 
 I shall do on the bed of death ! O, let me know 
 its value as they have done wlio gladly bore pri- 
 sons, and flames, and martyrdom, in every 
 dreadful form, that they might but keep their 
 immortal spirits safe beneath their Redeemer's 
 care ; and who thought all their sorrows well 
 repaid, by landing on the peaceful shore of hea- 
 ven ! O, let me feel the value of my immortal 
 soul, as they have done who trifled with theirs, 
 till their day of grace was gone ; and who then, 
 in confusion, agony, and horror, bewailed their 
 dreadful sin ! Lord, may I learn from the joy- 
 ful or sad experience of others, not to slight thy 
 love ! Thou hast cared for my eternal welfare, 
 and thought no sacrifice too costly when the 
 
SENSE OF THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 121 
 
 happiness of my immortal spirit was at stake. 
 Let endless praises be paid thee for thy conde- 
 scending- kindness, praises as lasting and as 
 fervent as ihy love. Bless the Lord, O my soul, 
 who redeemed ihy life from destruction. And 
 now, O Lord, may thy Holy Spirit, whose grace 
 I have so often resisted, whose teachings I have 
 80 often slighted, may he possess this soul of 
 mine, and make it a temple worthy of himself. 
 Shed abroad thy sanctifying influences upon 
 me, implant every grace within me, and train 
 up my deathless soul for that holy and happy 
 world, where I shall never be tainted with sin, 
 or feel pain or sorrow more. 
 
 Blessed Jesus, thou hast died to set my spirit 
 free from condemnation to eternal death : and 
 take this precious jewel, and keep it safe beneath 
 thy tender care. I cannot guard it from its rave- 
 nous foes. They seek its destruction ; but, al 
 mighty Saviour, they cannot tear the soul away 
 that is lodged within thy protecting arms. To 
 thee would I commit mine. It is the purchase 
 of thy blood ! and thou wilt keep what I com- 
 mit unto thee. Guard my soul from every foe, 
 while I am a pilgrim here ; and, in my depart- 
 ing hour, may I see heaven opened, and expire 
 with the dying prayer of thy lirst Martyr on my 
 lips, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION FURTHER SHOWN, BY 
 REFERENCE TO THE COUNSEL OF THE MOST HIGH, 
 CONTAINED IN HIS WORD 
 
 S 1 On all subjects in which eternity is 
 
122 THE BIBLE A GUIDE TO HEAVEN. 
 
 concerned, the word of God is our surest guide. 
 Do not you profess to believe that word ? By it 
 your views should be regulated, as by it your 
 conduct will be judged. A distinguished Chris- 
 tian, who is gone to his eternal rest, referring 
 to the scriptures, justly says, " I have thought I 
 am a creature of a day, passing through life as 
 an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come 
 from God, and returning to God; just hovering 
 over the great gulf, till, a few moments hence, 
 I am no more seen : I drop into an unchange- 
 able eternity. I want to know one thing, the 
 way to heaven ; how to land safe on that hap- 
 py shore. God himself has condescended to 
 teach the way. For this very end he came from 
 heaven. He hath written it down in a book. 
 O, give me that book ! At any price give me 
 the book of God ! I have it ; here is knowledge 
 enough for me. Let me be homo unius libri, 
 (the man of one book.) Here then I am, far 
 from the busy ways of men ; I sit down alone, 
 only God is here. In his presence I open, I 
 read his book ; for this end, to find the way to 
 heaven." What this pious writer felt himself 
 to be, you, my young friend, are now ; a crea- 
 ture hastening to eternity, as fast as an arrow 
 darts through the air, or as a shuttle through 
 the loom : and will you not make that sacred 
 book your guide ? It teaches you that religion 
 is true wisdom, and all else folly. That this is 
 the one thing needful, the good 'part. It teaches 
 you to seek this, whatever you lose by pursuing 
 it; to embrace it, though at the expense of all 
 you possess; to hold it fast, though that or life 
 must be resigned. It teaches you, that in pos- 
 sessing the blessings of religion, you would 
 
REPRESENTS RELIGION AS MOST IMPORTANT. 123 
 
 possess every s^ood ; and that the want of them 
 is worse than hunger, poverty, or pain, prisons, 
 or martyrdom. That if you enjoy the Saviour's 
 love, it is a matter of very little importance 
 what you suffer ; for here will be found enough 
 to make amends for all : and that if you have 
 not this, it signifies little what you possess ; for 
 the want of this is the want of every thing that 
 is worth the thoughts or wishes of an immortal 
 soul. 
 
 § 2. The judgment of the blessed God, as to 
 the importance of real piety, and of piety in 
 youth, is solemnly given in his word. There his 
 beloved Son and his inspired messengers speak 
 in his name to you ; and, God of mercy ! give 
 my youthful readers grace to listen to those ad- 
 monitions of thine, that I would now repeat to 
 them. Behold then, my young friend, "Be- 
 hold the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom ; and 
 to depart from evil is understanding. The fear 
 of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom ; a good 
 understanding have all they that do his com- 
 mandments. Seek ye the Lord while he may 
 be found. Call ye upon him while he is near. 
 Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un. 
 righteous man his thoughts. What shall it pro- 
 fit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul. One thing is needful. Seek ye 
 first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. 
 Enter ye in at the strait gate. Strive to entei 
 in ; because strait is the gate and narrow is the 
 way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that 
 find it. Ye must be born again. Behold the 
 Lamb of God. Believe on the Lord Jesus 
 
 Job, xxviii. 21. Ps. cxi. 10. Is. Iv. 6, 7. Mark, viii. 36. Luke, x. 42. 
 
 Matt. vi. a3. Matt. vii. 13. Luke, xiii. 24. Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 John, iii. 7. JohD, i. 36. Acts, xvi. 31. 
 
124 SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATIONS 
 
 Christ. Fi^ht the good fight of faith. Lay 
 hold on eternal life. Be diligent, that ye may 
 be found of him in peace, without spot and 
 blameless. Let us labour, therefore, to enter 
 into rest. Remember isow thy Creator in the 
 days of thy youth. I love them that love me; 
 and they that seek me early shall find me. O, 
 that they were wise, that they understood this, 
 that they would consider their latter end ! Fear 
 not them which kill the body, and after that 
 have no more that they can do : but I will 
 forewarn you whom ye shall fear; fear him, 
 who, after he hath killed, hath power to cast 
 into hell ; yea, I say unto you, fear him. Lay 
 not up for yourselves treasures upon earth ; but 
 lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where 
 neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where 
 thieves do not break through nor steal." 
 
 § 3. Are pot these important admonitions the 
 admonitions of your God ? Religion is the 
 blessing which they teach you to choose ; a 
 blessing which makes the poorest rich, and 
 without which the wealthiest are poor. Notice 
 a few scriptural admonitions more fully. The 
 Lord Jesus gave it as his solemn and deliberate 
 judgment, that one thing in needful. He made 
 this impressive declaration to one who loved 
 him, and whom he loved, " One thing is needful." 
 Compared with it, all that man deems most im- 
 portant is an insignificant trifle : his wisdom, 
 folly; his business and cares, laborious idling; 
 his pomp and pleasures as vain as the plays of 
 children, and his possessions as worthless as 
 their toys. But one thing is needful. All that 
 
 1 Tim. Ti. ]•?. 2 Pet. iii. 14. Heb. iv. 11. Ecclcs. xii. 1. 
 
 Pruv. viii. 17. Deut. v. £9. Lote, xii. 5. Matt. vi. ID, 2a 
 
OP THE IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION. 125 
 
 has agitated the generations of men for six 
 thousand years; all that has engaged their 
 hearts and employed their fleeting days, com- 
 pared with this, is needless, is lighter than the 
 driven chaflf, emptier than the bursting bubble, 
 and vainer than the flying shadow. 
 
 The same divine speaker said, "Labour not 
 for the meat that perisheth, but for that which 
 endureth unto everlasting life." He did not 
 mean to forbid a proper regard to the duties of 
 this life, but to command a fiir superior atten- 
 tion to the concerns of the soul ; and he assigns 
 an important reason for conduct which the 
 world deems madness. Clothing and food, the 
 body which they cherish, and even the world on 
 which they are enjoyed, must shortly perish, 
 and the time in which they are possessed is like 
 the twinkling of an eye ; but the blessings of 
 salvation endure to everlasting life ; and the soul 
 that has these shall enjoy them through an eter- 
 nity so boundless, that, compared with it, ages, 
 as numerous as the drops of the sea, and one 
 fleeting moment are alike: both so short, that 
 placed by the side of eternity, their difference 
 would be imperceptible, both would be nothing 
 there. Similar to this is the commandment, 
 " Seek ye first the kingdom of Cod and his 
 righteousness.** Jesus had been speaking of 
 food and raiment, those blessings so important 
 to this life, and then he added, " seek ye first 
 the kingdom of God and his righteousness ;" as 
 if he had said, " Let thy earliest and thy chief 
 care be to gain a title to the kingdom of God, 
 and an interest in the Redeemer's righteousness. 
 Prefer this not merely to worldly vanities and 
 follies, but to the most important earthly bless- 
 11* 
 
126 IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION SHOWN FROM 
 
 ings ; and be more concerned to possess this 
 than the food that supports, or the raiment that 
 protects, that feeble body of thine." 
 
 § 4. While the divine Saviour thus teaches 
 you to prize spiritual blessin|j^s, he directs you to 
 view this world as vanity ; to live above it ; to 
 expect and seek but little from it. The languag^e 
 of his word is, " The time is short, let those thai 
 have wives, be as though they had none ; and 
 they that weep, as though they wept not ; and 
 they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; 
 and they that buy, as though they possessed 
 not ; and they that use this world, as not abus- 
 ing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away.'' 
 Is it possible, my young friend, in a more im- 
 pressive manner to remind you, that as this 
 world is a nothing, and the next every thing to 
 an immortal soul, the next should be your choice? 
 The happy and the afflicted, the aged and the 
 young, tlie noble and the mean, are all travellers 
 to eternity ; and to them all, the lime is short. 
 It is so to you. Are you then possessed of the 
 most endeared and affectio^v^e relatives? have 
 them as though you had them not ; let not them 
 or their affection prevent your heart from rising 
 to nobler friends above. Are you sorrowful ? 
 weep as though you wept not. Pursue eternal 
 good with the same avidity, as if you had no 
 sorrow to distract your mind. Are you happy ? 
 rejoice as though you rejoiced not ; be like those, 
 whose hope and comforts here are all destroyed, 
 and who have not one pleasure left to draw their 
 hearts downwards to the earth. Have you the 
 treasures of this world ? have them as though 
 you had them not ; employ them for the glory 
 of God; and be as dead to them, as if you had 
 
I COR. VII. 29, 30,31, &2L luxe,xvi. 19,&c. 127 
 
 nothing on this side the grave your own. Let 
 neither the pains nor the pleasures of life, neither 
 poverty nor riches, prevent you from seeking, 
 with all your heart, durable riches and immortal 
 glories. In the same chapter it is said, " Art 
 thou called being a servant (in the original, a 
 slave) care not for it." As much as saying. It 
 is of so little consequence, in what situation a 
 child of God passes through this fleeting world, 
 that even slavery, dreadful as it is to human 
 feelings, is a thing of little moment. It is no 
 great matter, for so short a time, to live in po- 
 verty, hardship, and sorrow, when an eternity of 
 light and joy, and peace and liberty, is just 
 going to dawn upon the soul. 
 
 Thus, my young friend, you see it is thejudg- 
 ment of him who is eternal truth, that religion is 
 every thing, and that all on earth is as nothing. 
 Poverty or riches, health or sickness, food or 
 hunger, slavery or liberty, life or death, all are 
 trifles compared with that one most precious, 
 but most neglected blessing. 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ places the value and 
 importance of real piety in a most striking light 
 in the parable, or shall I say the history, of La- 
 zarus and the rich man: see Luke, xvi. 19, &c. 
 
 Lazarus is described as poor, despised, af- 
 flicted, a beggar without one earthly friend. He 
 has lived in poverty; and at last, unable any 
 longer to glean his scanty pittance by wandering 
 from door to door, he is laid at the rich man's 
 gate, worn down with sickness. No kind rela- 
 tion, no benevolent friend cheers him. The 
 crumbs which fall from bin wealthy neighboui-'s 
 ta.ble are his supy.ort; and these he earnestly de- 
 sires, to satisfy the cravings of hunger. His 
 
128 RELIGION ENFORCED BY LUKE, XVI. 19. 
 
 tattered rags scarcely cover the spreading wouiilIs 
 in his disordered and dying body ; and the dogs 
 come and lick his sores. Is it possible to de- 
 scribe more complicated wretchedness? But 
 he dies ; and now he who had not one friend 
 on earth, has angelic friends to conduct him to 
 {he regions of glory. Now farewell to poverty, 
 to begging, to grief, to tattered rags, to painful 
 wounds, to earth and all its sorrows. He, who 
 had no abode here, finds an eternal abode in the 
 mansions of bliss. He, who was an outcast up- 
 on earth, walks the golden streets of the new Je- 
 rusalem, and is become one of the host of saints, 
 and " angels clothed in light." Near him, while 
 upon earth, lived one, who enjoyed in abundance 
 the pleasures, gaieties, and honours of a dying 
 world. He knew not penury, or its sorrows, for 
 he was rich ; and every day had its sumptuous 
 fare, and every season its splendid attire. But 
 his all was in this world, he had nothing beyond 
 the grave. At length he died. The skill of phy- 
 sicians, the tears of friends, and all the care and 
 attendance which wealth commands, cannot 
 ward off the stroke of death. He dies, and lifts 
 up his eyes in hell. Which was the happy man ? 
 which the possessor of a real treasure ? Surely 
 you cannot hesitate to say, Lazarus. Yes, La- 
 zarus. In his poverty he was rich ; in his 
 wretchedness he was happy ; when he had no- 
 thing, he possessed all things ; and when his 
 misery seemed most complete, he was nearest 
 to endless life and joy. What was it that made 
 him so blessed ? It was true piety. Without 
 that, his poverty here had been the forerunner 
 of deeper poverty hereafter ; and poor on earth 
 he had been poorer still in l*ell. When he was 
 
EARNESTNESS IN RELIGION ENJOINED. 129 
 
 destitute of food, and friends, and raiment, and 
 shelter, he had one thing left, and that the one 
 thing needful. O my young friend, remember 
 that if you were as poor as Lazarus, as afflicted 
 as Job, as persecuted as Paul, the love of Christ 
 would make you happy ! And O, consider that 
 without this you must be a miserable wretch, 
 though you were to live in wealth, pomp, plea- 
 sure, and even royal splendour! 
 
 § 6. Thus, my young friend, the divine Sa- 
 viour represents real religion as an infinitely im- 
 portant blessing ; his word also directs you to 
 exert all the earnestness of your soul in its pur- 
 suit. You are exhorted to labour for the meat 
 which endureth unto eternal life ; to labour to enter 
 into rent ; to strive to enter in at the strait gate ; 
 to give all diligence to make your calling and elec- 
 tion sure. He calls on you, to run with the per- 
 severance of a racer ; to sacrifice every good for 
 this one, in the spirit of a merchant, who would 
 sell his all to buy one immensely valuable pearl; 
 to fight, with the resolution of a soldier deter- 
 mined to conquer or die ; and even to suffer, 
 with the constancy of a martyr, sooner than by 
 neglecting himself to lose eternal life. In two 
 most impressive passages, has the divine Savi- 
 our given this last exhortation : 'Tear not them 
 which kill the body, and after that have no more 
 that they can do." The loss of mortal life, he 
 teaches you to look upon as a little thing, if the 
 soul is but safe. " And if thy hand oftend (en- 
 snare) thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to en- 
 ter into life maimed, than having two hands to 
 go into hell, into the fire that never shall be 
 quenched ; where their wonn dieth not, and the 
 fire is not quenched. Aiid if thy foot offend 
 
130 RELIGION ENFORCED BY MARK, IX. 46, &C. 
 
 (ensnare) thee, cut it off: it is better for. thee to 
 enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast 
 into hell, into the fire that never shall be quench- 
 ed ; where their worm dieth not, and the fire is 
 not quenched. And if thine eye oflfend (ensnare) 
 thee, pluck it out : it is better for thee to enter 
 into the kingdom of God with one eye, than hav- 
 ing two eyes to be cast into hell fire; where their 
 worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched:'* 
 (Mark, ix. 46.) How solemn an admonition, to 
 make every sacrifice for eternal life, is contained 
 in this awful passage ! Not merely does the Son 
 of God command you to part with toys and trin- 
 kets for his sake ; but, to esteem no sacrifices nor 
 sufferings too great when life eternal is at stake. 
 To cut oflf a right hand, then amputate a right 
 foot, then tear out a right eye, would be to nature 
 dreadfully severe: yet his direction is, if any 
 thing which it would cost you as much pain to 
 resign, as to do all this, should endanger your 
 salvation, bear the pain; and whatever the body 
 suffers, take care that the soul is not undone. 
 Most of the liord's hearers were the poor ; and to 
 them the right hand is peculiarly important, as 
 by its labour their support is earned ; and thus 
 maimed, they might but linger out the remain- 
 der of a wretched existence. Taking these things 
 into consideration, how solemn is the counsel of 
 him, who spake as never man spake. It is as if 
 he had said, " Salvation is the one thing needful ; 
 and think nothing too precious to be resigned on 
 its account : what though any thing as dear and 
 important to you, as the hand that earns your 
 food, the foot on which you pursue your labours, 
 the eye which warns you of a thousand dangers, 
 and which is the source of a thousand satisfac- 
 
APPEAL TO THE YOUNG READER. 131 
 
 tions ; what thoug^h any thing thus dear and use- 
 ful, should ensnare your immortal soul, yet part 
 with it ; yes, part with ii;, though it cost you as 
 much exquisite torture to do so, as it would to 
 tear the tender eye from its socket, and to cut 
 away the right hand and foot from the body they 
 support and adorn. Part with the dear cause of 
 destruction, though, through its loss, the rest of 
 your days were even to be spent in misery and 
 want. Yet mind not the miseries of an hour, to 
 escape those of eternity ; mind not all that a fee- 
 ble body can endure, to escape the worm that ne- 
 ver dieth, and the fire that never shall be quench- 
 ed. Better, far better, were it for you, to go, if 
 needful, through pain, and want, and wretched- 
 ness, to heaven, than through comfort, and ease, 
 and prosperity, to hell." Solemn and awakening 
 charge ! O that it were felt by every heart ! Aw- 
 ful, awful warning, repeated six times by a com- 
 passionate Saviour, that there the fire never shall 
 he quenched. 
 
 Will you, my young friend, listen to his 
 words ? Will you, if you have not yet done so, 
 now give your youth to God, and receive the 
 blessed Jesus as your all in all 1* If you refuse, 
 O may the God of mercy grant, that wherever 
 you go in your mad career of business or of plea- 
 sure, the words of Christ may follow you, and 
 still thunder in your ear, that in that dismal 
 abode, whither sin and folly lead the soul, the 
 fire never shall be quenched ! Flee, then, from 
 it ! Flee for your life ! Flee for your soul ! If 
 milder motives have not moved you, what can 
 awaken you, if this warning of the Lord's can- 
 not ! Flee from the dear delights of sin, that are 
 binding you over to perdition! They conduct 
 
132 PRAYER FOR GRACi: TO 
 
 to that hell, where the fire never, never shall be 
 quenched. Flee from sins, that have ruled y^^u 
 to the present hour ! or they will shortly fix you 
 where the worm of remorse and despair can ne- 
 ver, never die. Flee, or ere long the fire of hell, 
 flashing in your face, will tell you, that your day 
 of p-race is past; and the worm that never dieth, 
 rising in your soul, will sting you with huge, in- 
 expressible, and everlasting sorrows. 
 
 A PRAYER, IMPLORING GRACE TO PAY DEVOUT ATTEN- 
 TION TO THE SCRIPTURAL ADVICE CONTAINED IN THIS 
 CHAPTER. 
 
 O thou great and beneficent Father of all, while 
 I draw near to thee in prayer, stoop, for Jesus's 
 sake, to accept my feeble oflfering. Humiliation 
 should be mine in these solemn seasons, while 
 infinite condescension is thine. I have passed 
 but a few fleeting years in this world, yet, per- 
 haps, have already seen many more than I shall 
 ever see again; and, O Lord, what folly, misery, 
 and madness, have marked much of my mortal 
 course! Instead of seeking first thy kingdom 
 and its righteousness, many of my early years 
 have been devoted to a thousand trifling vani- 
 ties ; and, negligent of laying up my treasures 
 in heaven, I have sought that felicity among the 
 follies of time and sense, which can be found in 
 thee alone. 
 
 Thou, O gracious Lord, hast an eternal, im- 
 mutable right to teach me what to choose, and 
 what to shun Listening to thy word, may I 
 make true piety my early and immediate choice; 
 and may 1 have strength from thee to count all 
 things loss, that I may win Christ. If I should 
 have to pass over a painful path to heaven, still 
 let me tread that path, assured, that one hour of 
 
BECOME ALTOGETHKR A CHRISTIAN. 133 
 
 glory there will compensate ajl the sorrows of 
 the way. May I follow those who trod a thorny 
 way before me, and who are inheriting the pro- 
 mises. Let me count no sufferings too heavy to 
 be endured on his account, who bore the cross 
 for me. When the world tempts me ; when reli- 
 gion IS despised, and this vile heart would be 
 negligent of its blessings : then let me think of 
 his dying love and of his various admonitions ; 
 then let me gladly make the most painful sacri- 
 fices, so that I may but escape the never-dying 
 worm, and be a partaker in his righteousness, 
 and an heir of thy kingdom. Impress deeply 
 on my heart, that the time is short ; and may I 
 rejoic6 or weep, possess or want, as a traveller 
 to eternity. JMay J, from this time, cry unto thee. 
 My Father, thou art the guide of my youth. May 
 the blessings be mine which rest on the hum- 
 ble, the pure in heart, and the peaceful. May 
 I hanger and thirst after righteousness, and feel 
 those desires, which nothing but thy love can 
 satisfy, and may I be filled. May I consider my 
 latter end, and when the solemn hour of separa. 
 tion from all mortal things arrives, then, O my 
 God, look down upon me, and show a father's 
 love. Cheer my depa-rting spirit with ihy smile. 
 Let joys like those of Lazarus, then be mine. 
 May ministering angels surround my astonished 
 soul ; and conduct it through the wondrous, but, 
 by me, untrodden path, that leads from earth to 
 heaven. There may I join the company, whose 
 robes are washed in Jesus's blood ; and there for 
 ever celebrate thy love, and pay my grateful ho- 
 nours to the Lamb that was slain. Gracious 
 Father, for his sake answer, and more than an- 
 bwei, these my humble prayers Amen. 
 12 
 
134 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE LORD JE3LS CHRIST A 
 REASON FOR EARLY PIETY. 
 
 § 1. History relates, that one oftiiose h-^p- 
 py and triumphant saints, who passed throu^li 
 the sorrows ot" martyrdom, to the glories of hea- 
 ven, just before he expired, lifting up his bum- 
 ins: hands from the miast of the flames, exclaim- 
 ed, " None but Christ, none but Christ !" In this, 
 and ten thousand other instances, maitj-rdom it- 
 self was cheerfully borne, throui(h love to the 
 adorable Saviour : but whence sprung this fer- 
 vent love ? The apostle's words reply, lie lore 
 him, because he first loved us. My young; friend, 
 let me call your attention to this most pleasing- 
 and most powerful motive, for devoting your 
 youth to God. iNIartyrs loved their God, be- 
 cause he had first loved them. — ]Martyrs died 
 for their Redeemer, because he had first died for 
 them ; but consider, I beseech you, that all 
 which was done for them, was done for you. 
 That love which won their hearts, has been man- 
 ifested for you as well as them. God in the 
 gospel, is as kind to you as he was to them ; 
 heaven as open to you as it was to them ; and 
 Jesus died for you as well as for them. Spend 
 then, a few serious moments, in meditating on 
 divine love. I have glanced at this subject be- 
 fore, but now entreat you to consider more fully 
 the love of God, and the love of Christ. 
 
 § 2. In the works of the Most High you may 
 discern his love. The fruits we gather, the sum- 
 mers we enjoy, the harvests we reap, the air we 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD IN GIVING CHRIST. 135 
 
 breathe ; are ail proofs of the love of God. Your 
 healthful days, your easy nights, your food, your 
 raiment, your tender friends ; all these are gifts 
 from the God of love. He crowns successive 
 seasons with his goodness; and seed-time and 
 harvest, summer and winter, are fraught with his 
 blessings In infancy, childhood, and youth, 
 you have experienced his kindness. Unnumber- 
 ed mercies descended from him to you, before 
 you could be conscious whence they came; and 
 the streams of his kindness have continued full 
 even to your present day ; and should you choose 
 him as your (rod and portion, then his kindness 
 will endure while eternal ages roll. It is in the 
 gift of his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, that his 
 divinest love is manifested " God so loved the 
 world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that 
 whosoever believeth in him should not perish, 
 but have everlasting life." 
 
 § 3. The gift of Christ is uniformly represent- 
 ed in the scriptures, as caused by the love of God. 
 That blessed book assures us, that the divine Re- 
 deemer did all that he did, and endured all that 
 he endured, in consequence of the love of God 
 to a ruined world. The testimony of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ to this momentous truth, is given in 
 the words just quoted; his inspired apostles as- 
 sert the same. " God commendeth his love to- 
 wards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ 
 died for us." " Herein is love, not that we loved 
 God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to 
 be the propitiation for our sins." Does the motive 
 of a giver, enhance the value of a gift ? how then 
 should you value Jesus, the best gift of God ! In 
 the gospel the infinite Lord of lords is displayed, 
 
 John, lii 16. Rom. v. a 1 John, Iv. 10. 
 
136 THE NATURE OF CHRIST INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 
 
 as stooping from the throne of his eternal majes- 
 ty, to interest himself in your behalf; and love 
 to helpless and guilty man, appears the directing 
 motive even in the conduct of the Most High. 
 God so loved the world. 
 
 § 4. The love of God, to your immortal soul, 
 is displayed in the greatness of the gift, which he 
 gave for your redemption. Think of the Giver, 
 and adore; think of the Gift, and praise and won- 
 der. The brightest throne in glory was made va- 
 cant on our account; and Jesus, the delight of 
 heaven, for us became a sufferer upon earth. He 
 is with God, and is God ; and is one with the 
 Father, in a way which none can comprehend. 
 On this subject, curious inquiry is fruitless ; de- 
 vout belief, in what God has declared, and hum- 
 ble adoration best become us. A worm or a mole 
 cannot conceive the nature of the sun, or dive in- 
 to the secrets of revolving planets, of stars fixed, 
 or comets wandering for ages in the depths of 
 the sky; but worms and moles might better at- 
 tempt to unfold the mysteries of the starry firma- 
 ment, than man try to unfold the more inexpli- 
 cable mysteries, contained in the nature of Christ. 
 Look on him as God with man; the well-belov- 
 ed of the Father. By his hands the worlds were 
 formed, and he is the same yesterday, to-day, 
 and for ever. He framed the skies ; yet, by his 
 Father's appointment, bled for you. He was the 
 object of his Father's infinite delight ; yet such 
 is the compassion of your injured God, that he 
 gave even Jesus, his dearest treasure, to be the 
 price of your redemption. 
 
 § 6. The love of (iod, in giving his beloved 
 Son for your salvation, is enhanced by his own 
 
 John, i. 1 ; X. 30. — Matt. xi. 27. 
 
THE LOVE OF GOD. 137 
 
 infinite excellencies. Join all the most noble 
 representations of power and majesty, and all 
 fall short of him at last. Heap together all 
 the most splendid descriptions of glory and 
 greatness, and apply them to the Almighty, 
 and they will but dishonour him at best. If 
 you imagine, as some philosophers dream, every 
 star to be in reality another sun, and every sun 
 attended by its revolving worlds ; yet God, the 
 great and glorious God, excels them more, than 
 they united would excel one glimmering spark. 
 Think of God, and what is man ! Surely but 
 the insect of a moment, on the atom of a day. 
 Yet in redemption, to man the meanest, did God 
 the highest stoop from his eternal throne. With 
 an eye of softest compassion, he looked down, 
 unutterably low, upon a perishing and guilty 
 world ; no help was seen, but his own arm 
 brought salvation. In the gift of Christ also, we 
 see the Most Holy stooping to visit the most pol- 
 luted. The sun has its dark spots ; but the God 
 of heaven has not the shadow of a defect. He is 
 as holy as he is high, as pure as he is powerful ; 
 while miserable man is polluted with all deprav- 
 ity, stained with every sin, black with every 
 crime. 
 
 § 6. The love of God was still further en- 
 hanced, by his knowledge of the deep abasement 
 and cruel neglect, which awaited his beloved 
 Son. Before Jesus left the bosom of the Father, 
 he foresaw through what scenes his beloved Son 
 would pass. He saw the Saviour on the cro&s, 
 before the cross was formed ; and heard his ex- 
 piring groan, before that groan was uttered. A 
 parent parting with his beloved son, may dismiss 
 liim more readily, if assured that everywhere a 
 12*' 
 
138 THE LOVE OF GOD IN 
 
 kind reception would await him ; but with re- 
 gret, if conscious that nothing but sorrow and 
 distress would attend him. A stranger to the 
 world might have expected, that the blessed Je- 
 sus would iiave met with an infinitely welcome 
 reception here. It might have been supposed, 
 that desiring nations would have been ready to 
 hail his arrival ; to offer him the throne of the 
 world, as some humble compensation for leav- 
 ing his own ; to echo the shouts of glory to God 
 in the highest, for peace on earth and good-will 
 towards men , to receive the illustrious visitant as 
 an object of universal admiration, esteem, and 
 love. But the Most High knew that the blessed 
 Jesus would not be thus loved, admired, and fol- 
 lowed ; he knew that gracious friend of sinners 
 would have for his attendants a few despised and 
 persecuted men ; would be without a dwelling, 
 except the chance one which a few friends afford- 
 ed, and sometimes in the most literal sense, 
 without a place to lay his head. He knew the 
 shouts which awaited his beloved Son were. Cm- 
 clfy him, crucify hirn ! away ivith him ! not this 
 man, but Barahbas ! hist blood be on us, and on our 
 children! This was the reception the blessed Suf- 
 ferer met with from the world he came to save ; 
 a reception foreseen by his heavenly Father, 
 who displayed his own boundless love, in be- 
 stowing such a gift on such a world. On a world, 
 too, of which the greater part would still make 
 their own destruction sure; and in spite of all 
 these miracles of love, would still prefer the dross 
 of earth to a dying Saviour and a gracious God. 
 Well might Christ say, God SO loved the world. 
 His compassion is beyond description. O, the 
 heights, and depths, and breadths, and lengths 
 
GIVING CHRIST, INEXPRESSIBLE. 139 
 
 of the love of God ; It is higher than heaven, what 
 canst thou know ! deeper than hell, what canst thou 
 do ! the measure thereof is longer than the earth, 
 and broader than the sea! It is as vast as his 
 own eternity. Could the extended sky be crowd- 
 ed with expressions, to declare the greatness of 
 the love of God ; the extended sky would not 
 contain the half Could the ocean be emptied, 
 drop by drop, and ages pass between every drop; 
 could the world be destroyed, grain by grain, and 
 ages pass between every grain; and could an 
 archangel be employed, through all those ages, 
 in unfolding the riches of divine love: the ocean 
 would be emptied, and the world would be de- 
 stroyed, before he had half finished his task. 
 Here eternity alone can suffice. 
 
 § 7. And now, my young friend, what does 
 this love demand ? Can you give that gracious 
 God too much, who gave his Son for you ? Can 
 you too soon give him your all ? O, would you 
 part with a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, 
 a friend, to redeem even another friend from 
 distress and ruin ? But your much-injured God 
 has resigned his beloved Son to death, to redeem 
 a world and you from perishing. He has done 
 this, not for friends, but enemies ; thus has he 
 commended his love ; for enemies, wilful, wick- 
 ed, hell-deserving enemies. Shall all this be lost 
 upon you ? Had some friend, by hazarding his 
 life for you, snatched you from a burning house, 
 or raging sea, how warm would have been your 
 professions of gratitude ! But God has given 
 Jesus to snatch you from more dreadful danger, 
 even when he knew that his beloved Son would 
 fall a victim to his compassion. How frozen is 
 your heart, if such goodness does not melt it in- 
 
140 EARLY PIETY URGED FROM THE LOVE OF GOD. 
 
 to penitence and love ! Gracious Almighty, 
 what can we render unto thee ! we, bouj^ht by the 
 blood of thy Son ; we, redeemed by thy best be- 
 loved ; we, whose sins he has borne, whose sor- 
 rows he has carried ; we, rescued from the flam- 
 ing pit of misery, not at the mere hazard of his 
 life, but by that invalued life, and by sufferings 
 more tlian human : what can we offer — but 
 ourselves ! By all this matchless love, I beseech 
 you to be reconciled to God. O, harden not your 
 heart against your best benefactor ; be not your 
 own worst enemy, when God would be your 
 kindest friend. O, refuse not your youth to him, 
 who has such infinite claims upon you ! It has 
 been justly said of ingratitude, that it is "of vi- 
 ces, first, most infamous and most accurst." Il 
 was the sin of Satan ; but, O my youthful rea- 
 der, how deeply will you be polluted with it, if 
 you refuse to give your youth to God ! His 
 kindness to you through successive years, in in- 
 fancy, in childhood, in youth, in health, in sick- 
 ness, claims your heart ; but, O, the gift of his 
 Son ' If you had ten thousand hearts, the love 
 there manifested would claim them all ; and will 
 you deny hira that one ? Too long has it been 
 shut against him, while sin and folly have tri- 
 umphed in your breast; but shall it be shut 
 against him still I Shall sin and folly still be 
 preferred to a most kind compassionate God ? 
 ilad you ten thousand lives, the love of God 
 would demand them all ! O, then, refuse him 
 not that little span of life, which is all you will 
 ever have in this world. 
 
 § 8. Fvum contemplating the love of God, the 
 Father, pass on to view that of his Almighty Son. 
 Thcr.gh the Father gave his best beloved, yet Jc- 
 
GLORY AND HUMILIATION OF CHRIST. 141 
 
 PMS came not by compulsion, but to be a willing 
 victim. 
 
 " Nothing brought him from above, 
 
 Nothing but redeeming love." 
 
 His language was, "Lo, T come to do thy will, 
 O God." He declared, "Therefore doth my Fa- 
 ther love me, because I lay down my life that I 
 miofht take it asfain. No man taketh it from me, 
 but I lay it down of myself I have power to lay 
 it down, and I have power to take it again." 
 "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 that though he was rich, for your sakes he be- 
 came poor, that ye, through his poverty, migh' 
 be rich.'' " Christ Jesus, who, being in the form 
 of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with 
 God; but madehimself of no reputation, and took 
 upon him the form of a servant, and was made 
 in the likeness of men : and being found in fash- 
 ion as a man, he humbled himself, and became 
 obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." 
 Follow him in your thoughts, from his throne 
 of glory, to " his poor manger, and his bitter 
 cross," and mark the painful steps he trod ; then 
 may you feel that never love was like his love, 
 and never sorrow like his sorrow. O, meditate on 
 the compassion of a friend, before whose love 
 that of the fondest earthly friend vanishes to no- 
 thing; your best, yet, alas ! perhaps, your most 
 forgotten friend. He was the inhabitant of hea- 
 ven before the world was formed. Eternal glo- 
 ries were his ; all the riches of heaven were his 
 portion; and angels and archangels bowed at 
 ins feet. The happiness of the meanest of his 
 disciples, in the heavenly world, is inexpressible. 
 O, wliat then was the glory which the Son of God 
 
 Heb. X. 9. John, X. 17, 18. 2Coi. Tiii,9. P\il. ii. 5 — 8. 
 
142 THE LOVE OF THE LOKD JESUS 
 
 had with the Father, before the world was, when 
 he thouo;ht it not robhery to be equal with God ! 
 yet all this did he lay aside for you, for me. You 
 have, perhaps, heard of this astonishing love, till 
 it scarcely impresses or affects your mind ; but 
 think, if you can, of something that may bear a 
 humble comparison with it. Suppose that a per- 
 son, not like you, but more happy, in a more ex- 
 alted station, one who might unite the piety of 
 Paul with the glory and wisdom of Solomon, 
 should, from some disinterested motive, resign 
 his happiness and honour, and assume the na- 
 ture of a worm, like that to crawl on the ground, 
 and hide in the dust; would not this be love? 
 Could you do this ? Yet this would bear no 
 comparison with the love of Christ. Could this 
 be done, one creature would take upon him the 
 meaner nature of a brother worm ; but when the 
 Son of God appeared in the likeness of men, the 
 Almighty Creator took on him the nature of the 
 sinful creature. He came from a world where 
 no sorrows enter, to a world of sorrow and dis- 
 tress. Born in poverty, he continued so poor 
 that he could say, "The foxes have holes, and the 
 birds of the air nests; but the Son of man hath not 
 where to lay his head." He was wearied with la- 
 bours, and driven from place to place by the per- 
 secution of those very persons whose happiness 
 he came to seek. He wept over wretched men, 
 whom he saw ruining themselves for this world 
 and the next. And, O my young friend, if you 
 are unacquainted with his grace, were he upon 
 earth again he might weep for you. He would 
 see your danger, if you see it not. He would 
 know the worth of your soul, though you know 
 it not; and would «*^«» J»> "ii =*s horrors, the pre- 
 
MANIFESTED BY HB SUFFERINGS. 143 
 
 cipice whence you are fallinf^, and the state of 
 misery into which you are plunginj^. After he 
 had manifested his love to man, by his instrac- 
 tions, his tears, his prayers, his labours and his 
 institutions, at length the last sad scene of his 
 innocent life drew on ; and now behold the man ! 
 See him in the garden of Gethsemane, weighed 
 down with inward sorrow. " My soul," said he 
 " is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." He 
 was so overwhelmed with a horrid mixture of dis- 
 tress and anguish, that he prayed, if it were pos- 
 sible, the painful cup might pass from him ; but 
 he added, "Father, not as I will, but as thou 
 wilt." He saw the world lying in wickedness, 
 and ready to drop into eternal flames, and the 
 iniquities of millions were meeting upon him ; 
 but though oppressed by more terrors than any 
 of his martyred followers ever felt, he would not 
 give up his great work ; he would not let go a 
 sinking world. Again and again he prayed, and 
 an angel appeared from heaven to strengthen 
 him ; yet his unspeakable agony continued so 
 dreadful, that his sweat was as it were great 
 drops of blood falling to the ground. Was there 
 any sorrow like his sorrow ? Stop not here ; he 
 who went to Calvary for you, had not reached it 
 yet. See him betrayed by the kiss of a traitor. 
 Behold the injustice, the insults, the ignominy 
 of his mock trial. The vilest malefactor proba- 
 bly would not have had such barbarous treat- 
 ment. Some spit in his face ; others cover his 
 eyes, strike him, and scoffing, bid him prophesy 
 who struck him. Yet did not one repining word 
 escape his blessed lips ; he was meekly suffer- 
 ing for his tormentors, and for you. The heath- 
 en soldiers at length begin their part in this 
 
144 THE LOVE OF THE LORD JESUS 
 
 bloody trajT^edy. They scourge him, dress him 
 in a royal robe, plat a crown of thorns and 
 place a reed or ualkin;^ staff, as a mock sceptre, 
 in his hand. With cruelty yet unglutted, they 
 lake the staff and strike him on the head to give 
 more exquisite pain by those blows, which might 
 drive the thorns of the crown into his temples 
 and his forehead ; and now behold the man, 
 clad in the robe of mock majesty ; his head 
 crowned with thorns, and streaming with blood ; 
 his face bruised with blows, his body torn by 
 scourges : was ever love like his love ! He is 
 condemned ; and now see him carrying his cross, 
 execrated and despised. Dreadful was his patli 
 lo Calvary, but he reached it at last ; yet not to 
 escape from his sofrows, these would only end 
 with his life. Behold him at the fatal spot. See 
 thecross formed, and him extended onit ; yet even 
 there he prays, *' Father, forgive them, lor they 
 know not what they do." Listen to the strokes of 
 the hammer that drives the nails through his 
 hands and feet. Mark the gushing blood, the 
 shattered bones. See the cross raised from the 
 earth on which it lay, and letdown with a jerk 
 into the hole in which it should stand, ti at this 
 might torture more the tortured body that 
 hung upon it. Through six long hours of inde- 
 scribable misery, behold the Divine Sufferer thus 
 suspended, execrated by earth, insulted by hia 
 cruel loes ; and even in appearance deserted by 
 heaven, when he uttered that mournful cry. My 
 God, my God, tvhy hast thou forsaken me! His 
 Father seemingly deserted his best bf/'oved for 
 a time, that he might be able to receive you, a 
 poor sinful wanderer, and make yju his for 
 ever. At length he expired. What a scene fol- 
 
DISPLAYED BY HIS SUFFERINGS & INVITATIONS ; 145 
 
 lowed ! rocks rending, graves opening, midnight 
 darkness at noon-day. Was it an emblem of 
 that everlasting darkness which shall overwhelm 
 an ungodly world ! Or would heaven hide the 
 dishonours of its Lord ! When he left his throne 
 of glory he knew that all this was to befall him ; 
 he knew that he should be treated as if he were 
 the worst of malefactors; he knew that the hand 
 which 
 
 " Formed the skies would bleed for you, 
 
 But bleed the balm you want." 
 
 And he so loved our wretched and guilty race, 
 that the view of all these dreadful scenes prevent- 
 ed not his coming. He came to save ; and is 
 able to save unto the uttermost. 
 
 § 9. The love of Christ is displayed by the free 
 and gracious invitations in his word. One or two 
 of these may serve as specimens of many. He 
 came to seek and save the lost. Let the proud 
 pharisee scorn the penitent publican; but Jesus 
 calls publicans and sinners to himself. Let the 
 self-conceited philosopher look with contempt 
 upon the unlearned and the poor, who disregard 
 his cobweb speculations ; but Jesus welcomes the 
 poorest and most ignorant to his arms of mercy. 
 " Come," saith he, " come unto me, all ye that 
 labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest.'- " Him that cometh to me I will in no 
 wise cast out." To those who feel the vast 
 weight of their eternal interests, and their own 
 ruined state, how welcome are these promises, 
 and such as these ! It is as much as if he had 
 said, "Come unto me. Man may despise you, 
 but I will receive you. Come, all ye who labour 
 for salivation, and who are laden with sins and 
 
 ,o Matt. xi. 28. JoI;n, vi. 37. 
 
146 BY HIS INTERCESSION AND PERPETUAL CARE. 
 
 sorrows. Come, not one of you only, not a 
 thousand only, not a million only, but all. 
 Come from every nation ; come in every nge ; 
 come from every rank of life ; come from every 
 class of sinners; come, ye who, feeling the bur- 
 den most oppressive, are almost driven to despair. 
 Come, all; for ye cannot come in such multi- 
 tudes that I cannot help you ; ye cannot come 
 so burdened that I cannot relieve you ; ye can- 
 not come so wretched that I will not save you. 
 Come then, and I will in no wise, on no account 
 whatever, cast you out." 
 
 § 10. The love of Jesus does not stop here. 
 Tf you, my young friend, become truly his, it will 
 attend you through all the seasons of life, in the 
 hour of death, and into the eternal world. He 
 is, to his friends, the guide of youth, and the 
 support of age. Not changeable, like many 
 earthly friends ; not frail, like all. The same is 
 his love to his disciples now, as it was to those 
 who first obeyed his gospel ; for " he is the same 
 yesterday, to-day, and for ever." He is the 
 shepherd of his flock, and guards them with an 
 ever-watchful eye. He knows jheir wants, he 
 administers to their comfort, he hears their pray- 
 ers, and feels their sorrows. Such is Ijis feeling 
 for his friends, that they are represented as his 
 *' flesh and bones.*' And when J'aul persecuted 
 them, he said, " Why persecutest thou ME?" 
 He proportions their trials to their strength, and 
 says to each, " My grace is suilicient for thee." 
 Nor does he permit those trials to befall the 
 weak Christian, which the strong only could 
 bear. " Had I felt," said one of his disciples,* 
 
 Hvb. xiii. a Jolin, X. II. F.plics. v. 3. Acts, ix. 4. 2Cor. xii.9 
 • Uicliari) Baxter. 
 
LOVE DEMANDED BY THE LOVE OF CHRIST. 147 
 
 **as strongs assaults against my failli, wlile I was 
 young-, as I have done since, I am not sure it 
 would have escaped an overthrow." He is the 
 intercessor for his people in his Father's presence, 
 is still engaged with their concerns ; and is gone 
 to prepare mansions for their reception ; and soon 
 will come to fetch his followers home. If you 
 are his, he will support you through life, and 
 uphold you when the awful hour of dealli draws 
 nigh. If you partake of his love, having loved 
 you, he will love you to the end. Though friends 
 and kindred, the nearest and the dearest, die, the 
 Christian has one friend, who is always near, and 
 always gracious ; and, when death itself is pa<st, 
 will find the Saviour's love greater than any 
 heart conceived. 
 
 § 11. Can you measure the heights and depths, 
 the lengths and breadths, of all his love? It is 
 impossible. Such love demands the return of 
 gratitude and love. The affection and tender- 
 ness of parents or friends has made you love 
 them in return; but what parents, what friends, 
 ever showed so much concern for your happiness 
 as the Son of God has done ? They have not left 
 a throne in heaven, suffered persecution on 
 earth, and died a painful death for you : Jesus 
 only has done tliis. Their kindness bears no 
 comparison to his ; and if theirs wins so much 
 of your affection, does not his deserve far more ? 
 Yet if you do not give yourself to him, you will 
 deny him all his love claims from you; and 
 would you do this? What dreadful stupidity 
 they manifest who pass through the world with- 
 out ever thinking why they came into it ! And 
 vhat horrible ingratitude in treating with neglect 
 
 Ileb. iv. 14 — Ift. — 1 John, L 2. John, xiv. 23. 
 
]48 APPEAL TO THE READER ON HIS 
 
 the stupendous love of the dying Saviour ! Can 
 you offer him too much, who gave up so much 
 lor you? Can you love him too much, whose 
 love led him to endure an afflicting life and a 
 lonnenting death for you ? What an exchange, 
 ray youthful friend, has he made with wretched 
 man ! He bore our sorrows that we might sliare 
 liis joys. He suffered in the world where we 
 dwell, that w^e might rejoice in his abode. He 
 took our guilt, that we might partake of his righ- 
 teousness ; groaned, that we might smile ; wept, 
 that we might exult; was crowned with thorns, 
 that we might be crowned with glory ; endured 
 the bitterest agony, that we might escape eternal 
 torments; died, that we might live; and came 
 from heaven, that we might go and dwell for ever 
 there. O then, remember, that when he was 
 agonizing in the garden, crowned with thorns, 
 torn with scourges, nailed to the cross, and writh- 
 ing in misery there, that all this was on your 
 account, and not his own. Can you review his 
 sufferings, and yet refuse to yield your all to 
 him ? Does love to parents, affection to sisters 
 or brothers, dwell in your heart? and is there no 
 room there for love to a far better friend than a 
 thousand earthly relatives united? Can you 
 think of the Redeemer's goodness, and yet treat 
 him with neglect!^ Would any one else do for 
 you what the Lord has done? Would the gay 
 world, that perhaps tempt you to slight him, 
 bear such sufferings for you? It is related ol 
 Colonel Gardiner, that at the time of his won- 
 derful conversion, he apprehended that there was 
 before him a visil)le representation of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ on tiie cross; and he was impress- 
 ed as if a voice had come to him to this effect : 
 
OBLIGATIONS TO LOVE THE LORD JESUS. 149 
 
 "O sinner, did I suffer this for thee, and are 
 these ihy returns !" If you, my yonno- fiien({, 
 have hitherto neglected religion and the Son of 
 God, should he appear, might he not justly si^y 
 the same to you? Is this your return fur all 
 that love of his which these pages faintly display 
 to you ? By ingratitude and neglect w ill you re- 
 quite his dying love ? Suppose he were to ap- 
 pear before you, and, with compassion in his 
 eyes, and love in his heart, were to look en you, 
 and say, ''Young sinner, behold these hands, 
 these hands endured the nails for you ; will you, 
 by preferring sin to me, open these wounds 
 again ? ^Yill you undo what I died to perform ? 
 Behold this side, this side w as pierced for you ; 
 will you pierce it deeper still by your neglect ? 
 Behold this head, this head was torn by the thor- 
 ny crown for you ; will you add fresh pangs to 
 what I then endured, by forgetting him who 
 never forgot you ? Did I bear scoffs, the scourge, 
 the cross, slow torture, inward and outward ago- 
 ny, and lingering death for you; and are sin and 
 neglect your returns ? O, what answer could you 
 give to questions like these ? Surely tears would 
 start from your eyes, remorse tear your heart, 
 and confusion cover your face. And do you 
 think the blessed Jesus endured the less, or lov- 
 ed the less, because he is not here to tell you 
 the greatness of his sufferings and his love? It 
 cannot be ; and will you then submit to him ^ 
 or will you still harden your heart in ingratitude 
 and neglect ? Perhaps, if you w ere to declare 
 what has been your past treatment of the gos- 
 pel and religion, an honest confession would be. 
 "I never thought on the subject." Alas, what 
 a confession, when a vast eternity is at hand I 
 13* 
 
150 APPiUL TO TJIE YOUNG READER, 
 
 But O, airain I ask you, can you, will you thus 
 requite the Saviour of the lost ? Can you look 
 on him afflicted, tormented, suspended between 
 heaven and earth, defiled with blood, and sink- 
 ing' beneath an intolerable load of sorrow ; can 
 you look back to Calvary, and continue to treat 
 him thus ? I know the world tempts you to do 
 so; but will you let the world prevail? Did he 
 leave heaven and the brig^htest throne in glory to 
 encounter such horrors for you ; and will you not 
 give up, what the vain world can offer, for him ? 
 Let it do its best ; were its riches, pleasures, 
 honours, yours, are these things better than the 
 heaven to which Jesus fain would lead you ? 
 He came to save ^he lost ; will you refuse to let 
 him save you ? Th^ graves opened and the rocks 
 rent at his crucifixiov" ; shall graves open sooner 
 than your heart ? ai^I even rocks be softer ? 
 Were you to see a beloved friend ascend a scaf- 
 fold on your account, then see his lifeless body 
 bleeding, the eyes " that loved to look on you" 
 closed in death, and all this lor you, and in your 
 place; you could not be unaffected. Again, I 
 remind you, that for you your injured liord 
 bled, and bled not by a sudden, but a lingering 
 death ; and can you remain unaffected, because 
 you see not the mournful spectacle, when you 
 know that it was once seen, till heaven, indignant 
 !ieaven, turned the day to darkness, and hid the 
 bleeding Saviour? Unless you turn to him, as 
 far as you are concerned, all this will be in vain. 
 As to you, it will be in vain that he came from 
 heaven, and became the poor man of sorrows. 
 As to you, it will be in vain that his hands, his 
 tc*;t, his side were pierced, and that he became 
 the.su.^erer of the cross, the victim of death. O, 
 
AND WARNING. 151 
 
 let him not have to say to you, ** You tvill not 
 come to me that you might have life.'* Flee tcf him 
 for salvation O, give him your youth. Trus» 
 him with your soul. Make him your all in all ; 
 and in him be blessed for time and eternity. 
 But if you refuse to do this, if you continue l<» 
 slight his love, and to deny him all that such 
 t]^oodness claims ; then, young- sinner, expect here- 
 after no gentle flames, no tolerable damnation • 
 for know, that the deepest and most wretched 
 hell will not be more wretched than such iniqui* 
 ty will deserve. Your sin will be nothing less 
 than preferring Satan, who tries every method 
 in his power for your destruction, to that blessed 
 Friend who bore such sorrow for you. Yor 
 will be covered with a load of ingratitude, black- 
 er, in one respect, than that which sunk the devi' 
 and his angels to the lake of fire ; they sinned 
 against a gracious God, but, if you continue to 
 slight the gospel, you will sin against a graciou? 
 God, and a suffering Saviour too. Even devils 
 themselves may then rise up in the judgment to 
 condemn you; and to declare those who could be 
 insensible to such goodness, and indifferent to 
 such a friend, in this respect at least, more hor- 
 ribly wicked than themselves. 
 
 § 12. PRAYER FOR THOSE YOUTHFUL READERS, "WHO, 
 FEELING THE GREATNESS OF DIVINE LOVE, DESIRE 
 TO BE THE lord's. 
 
 Compassionate liord, what miracles of love 
 hast thou displayed ! How beautiful are thy 
 works ! how great the wonders of thy power ! but 
 O, in the gospel, how much greater are the won- 
 ders of thy love ! How numerous are those mer- 
 cies, which hourly come from thee; but, O bow 
 
152 PRAYER rO KNOW THE LOVE, 
 
 much the gift of thy Son surpasses lliem all ! 
 Anmzing' love ! that Ihou shouldst give sucIj a 
 gift to such a world. O, let this love fill all my 
 heart, and enj^age all I am and have to thee ! O, 
 let me view it as manifested to vie, a sinner ! 
 With wonder and gratitude, may I look on Jesus, 
 as given by thee, to snatch even me from perdition , 
 and may I be sweetly constrained to yield up 
 myself, body, soul, and spirit unto thee. O my 
 God, poor are my praises, cold is my gratitude. 
 I owe thee more for the gift of Jesus, than mil- 
 lions of tongues could utter, or millions of years 
 declare. I would lie abased before thee, for hav- 
 ing offered thee so little. Oh my injured God', 
 my forgotten Saviour ! my neglected soul ! Had 
 I ten thousand hearts, thy love demands them 
 all ; yet much of my life has passed, and angels 
 and men have seen me denying thee this one, poor 
 unworthy heart. Great God, could I feel the 
 evil of such sin aright, this heart would burst vviih 
 soA-ow, and these eyes would weep till death 
 slopped the flowing tears; but, imperfect in ev- 
 ery tiling, I am imperfect in my penitence. Yet 
 let me ieel so much as shall lead me to abhor 
 myself for past ingratitude : and cold as is my 
 heart, so far at least may it glow with love, as 
 shall lead me to lie cheerfully at thy feet, seek- 
 ing all my good in thee. Farewell, earth ! fare- 
 well, all the allurements of a dying world ! my 
 God demands my heart; my God shall have it. 
 And, O thou blessed Lord, form me according to 
 thy will, and make me, in some good measure, 
 holy, harmless, humble, undefiled, and separate 
 from sinners. Guide me by thy counsel, and af- 
 terwards receive me to glory. 
 
 And, O thou compassionate Saviour, what 
 
AND ENJOY THE FAVOUR UF CHRIST. 153 
 
 praises, what gratitude I owe to thee! Why 
 didst thou stoop beneath the grave, to save a 
 sinking v/orld ! Why pass by sinful angels to vi- 
 sit sinful men ! Why raise man to the heaven 
 he never enjoyed, and not restore them to the 
 heaven they lost ! Why sink so low, to raise us 
 so high ! Why suffer for such a worm as I ! 
 Even so, Lord, /br so it seemed good in thy sight. 
 Blessed Jesus, thy divine goodness undertook, 
 ihy power performed this miracle of miracles, 
 this more than wonder. No merits didst thou 
 se« in man. None wilt thou ever see. Never 
 c^n we repay the debt of gratitude. Never love 
 thee half enough. O gracious Saviour! O divine 
 sacrifice ! thou didst bleed, didst bleed for me ; 
 didst come lo wash away my stains ; to seek and 
 save me who was lost. Let me live to thee; and 
 in my life adorn thy gospel and glorify thy 
 name. Let me die to thee ; die with an assur- 
 ance that I am thine ; die, saying in my last 
 bour, Beloved Saviour, through thy merits and 
 thy death, a poor polluted worm, deserving hell, 
 ascends to heaven. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EARLY PIETY PECULIARLY ACCEPTABLE TO GOD, AND 
 PECULIARLY HONOURED BY HIM. 
 
 § 1. The affection of earthly relatives and 
 friends, you doubtless esteem of much im- 
 portance to your happiness ; but there is one in- 
 finitely greater Friend, whose approbation is of 
 more consequence, than that of all earthly friends 
 united. The King of kings deigns to legard 
 
154 NO WORLDLY INTEREST IMPORTANT LONG. 
 
 early piety as peculiarly acceptable to himself, 
 and this is a weighty reason for its choice. If 
 then you would be happy here, and happy for 
 ever, useful on earth, and ji^lorified in heaven, J 
 beseech you to make this blessing yours. I be- 
 seech you to remember, that the esteem and 
 love of mortal friends, if obtained in youth, 
 and enjoyed through following years, and if ev- 
 er so important for all the term of life, will sink 
 into insignificancy itself, when death shall dis- 
 lodge your soul from its feeble habitation, and 
 eternity receive you to its endless abodes. But 
 to possess that early acquaintance with Christ, 
 that early piety, which is peculiarly pleasing to 
 God, will most nearly concern you, long after 
 you have done with the world ; long after not one 
 trace of you or yours remains on earth ; long af- 
 ter the shroud, that dress of the grave, and the 
 coffin, that dwelling of the dead, are mixed and 
 lost in the dust that covers them ; long after the 
 graves have given up their dead, and the Judge 
 fixed their eternal doom. Tell me, my young 
 friend, of that worldly concern, which will be of 
 any importance to you, when the year 2000 
 comes. Alas ! you cannot. The world then as 
 now, may be gay and thoughtless; but to you, 
 long, long, long ere that period comes, there will 
 not remain one bitter dreg of any worldly sor- 
 row, nor one pleasing memorial of any worldly 
 joy. The sun will shine as brightly then for 
 others, the earth be as gaily dressed for them as 
 now for you ; but long ere that time arrives, 
 those who are in vigorous youth or decre- 
 pid age, will be mixed in the same dust. The 
 clods of the valley, almost for ages, will have cov- 
 ered both, alike forgetful of a busy or a plcasura- 
 
RELlGlOi. ACCEPTABLE TO GOD. 155 
 
 ble world. The e^rass of the field, for years and 
 years, will have flourished and faded about the 
 spot where you and I shall lie. O vain, and pass- 
 ing world ! how wretchedly are that youth, and 
 health, and strengUi, misemployed, which are 
 employed for thee ! Seek, my young friend, a 
 better portion than such u world can give. Pur- 
 sue his favour, whose favour will be found better 
 than life, when the world itself has passed away 
 like a shadow, that vanishes when the sun goes 
 down. 
 
 § 2. Religion in any situation, or in persons 
 of sJT.y age, is acceptable in the sight of the Most 
 High, and is deemed true wisdom by him. His 
 word declares, "Tiie fear of the Lord is the begin- 
 ning of wisdom ; a good understanding have all 
 they that do his commandments." A person 
 maybe poor, ignorant, mean, and of small capaci- 
 ty ; yet, if guided by the counsel of God, this poor 
 unlettered man shall be esteemed by his Maker, 
 as ivise and of good understanding : another may 
 be great and noble, skilful in all knowledge, able 
 to discourse in many languages, and the world 
 may be astonished at his talents ; yet, because he 
 knows not true piety, God would pronounce him 
 a fool, a man of no understanding. So precious 
 is true piety in the sight of the Lord. 
 
 But while piety in any situation or age, is 
 pleasing to the Most High, yet learn from the di- 
 vine v.'ord, that youthful piety has peculiar 
 charms. No sight upon earth is more lovely, 
 than to see young persons in the very bloom of 
 1 fe devoting themselves to the Saviour, who died 
 for them, and ornamenting his religion by giving 
 it their best years. Religion may be regarded by 
 the aged convert from sin and folly ; but it must 
 
150 EARLY PIETY PECULIARLY ACCEPTABLE 
 
 be honoured by the young, or by those who were 
 religious in the prime of their days. Early pie- 
 ty is peculiarly pleasing to the blessed Jesus. 
 One of the last commands he gave to Peter, was, 
 "Feed my lambs." The apostle John was hh 
 young disciple, but he was "the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved.'' The case of the young ruler also 
 in this view deserves jittention. Excepting the 
 apostles, he is the only person expressly men- 
 tioned in the New Testament as young who went 
 to our Lord to inquire the way to heaven. He 
 was a stranger to the Lord, and yet more is said 
 of him, than of whole multitudes besides ; for of 
 him it is said, that "Jesus loved him." ^And 
 though the Lord, notwithstanding nil he saw so 
 pleasing in him, afterwards spoke of him as a per- 
 ishing sinner; yet even his want of real piety 
 may show you how that blessing is valued by 
 the Lord Jesus when possessed by the young. 
 If, though not truly a child of God, the Lord was 
 so much taken with him, how much more would 
 he have won on Christ's affection, if to every 
 other recommendation had been added, true pi- 
 ety ! 
 
 That last and best, 
 
 Which more than doubles all the rest." 
 
 A parent may be pleased with another's child, 
 but is more pleased with his own ; and the Lord, 
 who beholding that young man loved him, would 
 doubtless have loved him more, if he had been 
 his own disciple. Ah ! had he listened to the 
 call of Jesus, how high a place might he have 
 possessed in his Redeemer's heart ! Perhaps, the 
 very fii'st; for not even of the apostles them, 
 selves, is so much said of the Lord's loving 
 
AND MOST HONOURED BY GOD. 157 
 
 them, before they became his disciples, as is said 
 of his love to this young man. 
 
 § 3. The marked and honourable distinction 
 which God has placed on early piety, strikingly 
 shows how peculiarly acceptable it is to him. 
 He has made few, except those converted in ear- 
 ly life, instruments of advancing, to any consid- 
 erable degree, his glory upon earth. Late con- 
 verts have generally crept, as it were, singly into 
 heaven ; while many converted young have been 
 employed by God, to lead their friends, their 
 children, or many others to the abodes of bliss. 
 As by early piety the young peculiarly honour 
 God ; so he condescends, in return, peculiarly to 
 honour them. Run over the list of names, which 
 God has so honourably distinguished in his 
 word, and observe they were converted while 
 young. Abel, the first of martyrs, sought God 
 in his youth. Enoch, celebrated for so glorious 
 a translation to heaven, was removed thither, 
 when (considering the length of life at that pe- 
 riod) a young man. Noah, the father of a se- 
 cond world, when young served the God of 
 heaven. Abraham, pronounced the father of the 
 faithful, and the friend of God, while young set 
 out for the heavenly country. Moses, who was 
 faithful in the Lord's house, in his youth refused 
 to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, and 
 counted the reproach of Christ greater riches than 
 the treastires of Egypt. Joshua, who made the 
 noble resolution, " as for me and my house, we irill 
 serve the Lord,'* had made the same, long, long 
 before. Samuel, that much honoured prophet, 
 when yet a child, said to the Lord, " Speak, for 
 thy servant heareth." Job. distinguished for his 
 patience and his piety, was pious in his early 
 14 
 
1.58 KMINENT SAINTS GENERALLY t 
 
 life Elijah, who was conveyed in a fiery cha-' 
 ■ ot to Rlory was, most probably, the servant of 
 God in'his'youlh. Elisha. on -hom Ins sp,r,t 
 rested, seems to have s'ven himsel to God be 
 times Isaiah, the sweetest herald of the ba- 
 viour's approach, while young became the pro- 
 ,het of Ae Lord ; so too did Ezek.el and Jere- 
 niah Daniel, who walked with God even m 
 Babvon itself, and who found his God his pro- 
 tector even in the lions' den, had sought h.s God 
 irwsearly days. Shadrach. Meshach and Abed 
 neso whom God so honoured, that they passed 
 unhurt through the burning fiery furnace, were 
 aU pious in their youth. Passing by others we 
 come down to the Redeemer's days Then John 
 Ihe Baptist, the great forerunner of the Lo.d.in 
 earlv life began to deliver the message of his 
 God -The apostles of the Lord and Saviour 
 there is much reason to believe, were converted 
 voune Thus was Peter; thus was James. Paul, 
 ITel persecutor, then an aposUe and martyr, 
 was a young man when brought to the know 
 Tedgeonhe SonofGod. So, ,00, «- J^'jU'^he 
 beloved disciple; so too roost probably all that 
 illuslrfous company. Timothy and luus were 
 youn" , but faithful followers of the Lord ; and. 
 Is if to show that in youth Gof/bouldbe^ glo- 
 rified the Son of God himself came into ihe 
 v^orld, accomplished his great errana in it, and 
 Temrned to his Father's bosom, when he had 
 spent little more than three-and-th.rty years up- 
 o^ its surface. If we turn to ^""^ J.^^'^^*;.:- 
 racters, which the scriptures commend to oui le- 
 ssee and imitation, still will the ^»-« f serva 
 lion hold. Mary, whom, as the mother of our 
 Lo"d all geneiations shall call blessed hue. 
 
CONVERTED WHILE YOUNG. 159 
 
 doubtless given her youth to God. Mary, who 
 sat at Jesus*s feet, and heard his word, who pos- 
 sessed that good part which none could take from 
 her, appears to have early chosen that one thing 
 needful* If we come to laier times, still God 
 seems, almost invariably, to have acted by the 
 same rule, and seldom to have conferred distin- 
 guished honour, except on early piety. Baxter 
 and Owen, Doddridge and Watts, Wesley and 
 Whitfield, and hundreds more, that were in their 
 day employed to lead thousands to heaven, were 
 all converted young. Almost, if not quite, every 
 living or departed missionary sought God 
 in the days of youth. Carey and Ward, Brai- 
 nerd and Elliot, Schwartz and Martyn, in youth 
 were brought into the ways of peace. Thus also 
 have the most eminently distinguished women. 
 Lady Jane Gray, and Queen Mary the Second,, 
 the Countess of Huntingdon, who from a com- 
 paratively small fortune is said to have employ- 
 
 • In proof of the youth of some of these persons, ohserve. Abel was 
 dead before the birth of Seth, which took place when Adam was bit 
 130 years old. Noah is spoken of as a just man, who walked witii God 
 ')efore the birth of any of his children, and Sbem was born 45Ci yeac? 
 Defore his death. Abraham, when at God's command he left HaTan, 
 was 75 years old, which bears the same proportion to his aj^e, as 3<} 
 would bear to the age of man in the present day. See respecting Mu- 
 ses, Heb. xi. 24. Joshua, see Exod. xxiv. 13; xxxiii. 11. &c. &c. 
 Samuel, see 1 Sam. chap. iii. Job, see Job. i. 1 ; xliii. 16. Of Elijah'* 
 age, but little is said. Elisha seems to have been a young man, 1 
 Kings, xix. 20. Isaiah, the least possible term for the duration of his 
 prophetical office, is 48 years; (see Lowth's Isaiah, Note 1.) and life 
 being then about the present length, he appears to have entered while 
 young on that office. Jeremiah exercised his prophetical functions 
 at least 42 years, and seems to have been called veiy young to it. See 
 Blaney's Jeremiah, Note 1, and Jer. i. 6. Ezekiel, see Preface to New 
 comes Bzekiel. Daniel, Shadrach, &c. see Daniel, chap. 1. James, 
 Peter, &c. See Doddridge's Remarks on the time when their Epistles 
 were written ; from their age at that time, it is easily inferred, thai 
 they were young when called by Christ. Paul, see Acts, vii. ^'>i. Ma- 
 ry, the mother of Christ, see Luke's Gospel, chap. 2. Mary of Betha- 
 ny, from the circumstances recorded respecting her, and from what 
 ancient histoi7 says of her brother Lazaius, seems most probably to 
 nave beva a young woman. 
 
160 EARLY PIETY PECULIARLY ACCEPTABLE, 
 
 ed nearly a hundred thousand pounds on reli. 
 gious objects ; the Countess of Suffolk, whose 
 piely has often been displayed for the imitation 
 of others, and many more ; the lovely Harriet 
 Newell, and others who like her have trod the 
 missionary path, have all displayed the charms 
 and obtained the honours of early piety*. AVhen 
 God, my young- friend, has thus distinguished 
 youthful reli^^ion, while he has set such honour 
 upon it, would you neglect it ? Would you de- 
 lay to seek it ? Rather, I beseech you, yield 
 yourself a living sacrifice to him who says, 
 " They that seek me early shall find me?* 
 
 § 4. AVe may discern various reasons why the 
 blessed Saviour should have a peculiar fondness 
 for his young disciples ; and why the JNIost High 
 should take early religion as a mark of regard to 
 himself, that he will distinguish with particular 
 approbation at another day ; that day when all 
 ;he dear delusions and gay vanities of this world 
 will appear wretched vanities indeed. One of 
 these is the decided affection to the Lord which 
 early piety displays. You suppose they love you 
 most, who are ready to do the most for you ; and 
 depend upon it, the blessed Jesus judges by a 
 similar rule. Those who are most willing to ho- 
 nour him, and give him most, show mostafiection. 
 Now early piety is the best proof of this kind 
 which you can of!er. If in God's strength you 
 resolve that the Lord shall have those blooming 
 years, which others spend in sin and folly, this 
 will manifest the most decided preference for 
 him. " I love my Saviour much," may be said 
 by one converted in old age ; but " I have hum- 
 bly proved I love him much," is a declaration 
 that must be left to those converted in youth 
 
AS DISPLAYING MOST LOVE TO CHRIST. 161 
 
 They do not give their Lord merely the even- 
 ino;- of a day, whose best hours have been devo- 
 ted to folly and to sin, but present him a better 
 offerinp^ than it would ever otherwise be in their 
 powei to make. As the blooming spring is the 
 loveliest season of the year, so is youth of mortal 
 life. It is the season in which those graces 
 should be implanted in your heart which may 
 bring forth fruit to the glory of God. It is the 
 season for activity and vigour ; the time in which 
 you might do much for God. AVhile your mind 
 is not distracted with cares, nor your body worn 
 with inurmities, nor your affections chilled by 
 age ; but while health, and cheerfulness, and all 
 the vigour of life are yours, is the season in 
 which to make the best offering to your God. 
 God, when he ordained sacrifices of old, ordered 
 that none w hich were blemished, should be pre- 
 sented to himself. The creatures offered were 
 to be the most perfect and vigorous of their 
 kind ; and he reproved those who brought infe- 
 rior ones. So, my young friend, before your 
 soul is loaded with the black crimes of many un- 
 grateful and wicked years; before your powers 
 are enfeebled with the infirmities of old age ; devote 
 yourself « livint^ sacrifice to God. God, it is said, 
 ioveth a cheerful giver. If this is true, where gifts 
 of much inferior value are concerned, depend 
 upon it, that it is so in the present case. The 
 Lord loves the cheerful offering which the young 
 make of themselves to him, in the bloom and vi- 
 gour of their days, better than the offering of a 
 few sad dregs of life, which is wrung, as it were, 
 from the aged and infirm. " He that soweth 
 .s'Kuingly shall reap also sparingly ; and he that 
 
 Lev. wi. 1, 6, 5cc. Mai. i. 8, &c 2 Cor. ix. 7. 
 
162 EARLY PIETY DISPLAYS 
 
 soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully." 
 Tliey that yield the most to God, shall, tluougli 
 his abounding grace, reap the most bountiful 
 harvest of glory and joy ; but who sow so boun- 
 lifully as they who forsake the worl'^ while 
 young, and then offer to God all they have and 
 are ? The affection of the young also is com- 
 monly the most fervent; it glows with a strong- 
 er flame than that of age: and the young follow- 
 ers of the Lord resign their hearts to the impres- 
 sions of his love, when most capable of loving 
 him in return. They love him soonest; and are 
 v/e to wonder if he loves them best? Some, like 
 Manasseh, after long years of rebellion, are driv- 
 en by a heavy rod to penitence, and they are wel- 
 come; but where is the late penitence of Ma- 
 nasseh celebrated, as equally acceptable to God 
 with the early piety of Abijah, Josiah, Timothy, 
 or John ? Abijah God took to himself; because 
 ■in him only iv as found some good towards the Lord 
 God of Israel, in the house of Jeroboam. Josiah 
 did right in the sight of the Lord; and God heard 
 his prayers, and promised that he should not see 
 the evils which were about to overwhelm his 
 wicked country. Over Timothy Paul rejoiced 
 as his beloved son in the faith ; and John lean- 
 ed on the bosom of Jesus. He loves all who 
 humbly love him, but those best, who, beginning 
 soonest, love him most. If you would be truly 
 pious, apply to God for grace to be so betimes. 
 If you would have your piety peculiarly plea- 
 sing to the Lord, let it be the piety, the kindness 
 of your youth. Would you thank any one to 
 offer you a shell without the kernel ? or a stalk, 
 when the flower were withered ? or dross when 
 
 2 Cor. ix. 6. 
 
MOST LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. 163 
 
 the ^olcl were gone ? ana would you offer to the 
 Lord the poor remains of a life, spent in the 
 service of Satan ? and after having wasted your 
 youth, your health, your strength, your prime, 
 would you give to Christ the leavings of the de- 
 vil? O, act not so base a part! But if you 
 would be pious, be so in these your early days ! 
 Then will they be your best days. Every year 
 that departs will bring on a happier; and the 
 last will be the happiest of all, because the last 
 will land you in that world, where there is no- 
 thing but happiness. 
 
 § 5. Early piety is also peculiarly acceptable, 
 as it not merely shows the truest love to Christ, 
 but manifests most gratitude for the boundless 
 love of God. His love calls for thankfulness 
 more fei-vent than any imagination can conceive 
 or tongue express ; but, by devoting your youth 
 to him, you may give the best expression of gra- 
 titude in your power. You may say, " Great 
 God, I owe thee more than it is in my power to 
 conceive, much less to declare. I have no way 
 of testifying gratitude equal to my obligations ; 
 but help me to show all the thankfulness I can. 
 The warmest will be cold ; the most will be lit- 
 tle : but such as I am take me, and by the of- 
 fering of my youth may T show that I am thank- 
 ful, though I can never be thankful enough." It 
 has been said, that in the war which divided the 
 United States of America from England, a Bri- 
 tish commissioner offered a great bribe to Mr. 
 Reid, an American agent, and that he answered, 
 " I am not worth purchasing ; but such as I am 
 the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to 
 do it." My young friend, be assured, it will be 
 an acceptable token of your gratitude to God, if 
 
164 EARLY PIETY PECULIARLY ACCEPTABLE, 
 
 you treat the world as he treated the British com- 
 missioner. Say to it, " BeG:one, vain world; I 
 am a poor insignificant creature, but sucii as I 
 um, thou art not rich enough to buy me from my 
 God ; I owe him such a debt as I shall never 
 throuf(h eternity discharge, but what little I can 
 offer iiim, that little with his help I will." 
 
 By early piety, you would also avoid adding 
 to that load of ingratitude, which a continuance 
 in sin would occasion. You would grieve the 
 Holy Spirit less: alas I you have grieved him 
 too much already. You would resist fewer of his 
 calls : alas ! you have resisted too many already. 
 Supposing, which most likely would not be the 
 case, but even supposing, that God should spare 
 you, and his Spirit lead you to repentance twen- 
 ty years hence ; yet must it not be more pleasing 
 to the blessed God, to see you now humbled as 
 a penitent at the Saviour's feet, than to see you 
 there, after resisting his Spirit, and adding in- 
 gratitude to ingratitude, through twenty more 
 rebellious years of sin ? O, then while you have 
 the power of showing some humble thankfulness 
 to God ; while you may avoid a load of base in- 
 gratitude ; while you have resisted fewer calls, 
 and grieved the Holy Spirit less than you w ould 
 otherwise do : be truly wise and make your God 
 your friend. 
 
 § 6. Another circumstance that may render 
 early piety peculiarly acceptable is, its rareness ; 
 for though most that come to Christ come to him 
 in youth, yet small is their number compared 
 with the multitudes that are strangers to the grace 
 of God. Among the great, how many families 
 are there in which not one true Christian is to be 
 found ! among the poor the case is the same. 
 
BECAUSE FEW ARE PIOUS. 165 
 
 liook at the factories and mills, where twenty, 
 thirty, forty, or even hundreds are employed ; 
 and among- scores, perhaps but one or two will 
 be found, that sincerely love and follow Christ. 
 True religion was never in fashion upon earth. 
 In youth, even when free from what the world 
 calls vice, there is often little to be seen besides 
 pride, vanity, and folly. That fair morning of 
 life, which a few happily improve for the glory of 
 God and their own eternal welfare, most spend, 
 as if religion were no concern of theirs ; as if 
 they had no soul to save, no death to fear, no 
 heaven to seek, no hell to escape. Many young 
 followers of Christ have done their business for 
 eternity, before others, their equals in age, began 
 theirs for time; and have been ripe for an 
 eternal weight of glory, before others began to 
 think of everlasting things. Thus the rareness 
 of early religion may well make it peculiarly 
 pleasing in the sight of the blessed Jesus. He 
 sees the greater part of the young utterly care- 
 less of his dying love, or even treating religion 
 as a thing unsuitable to youthful gaiety ; but he 
 beholds a few, that are offering him their best 
 years ; and lie beholds them with pleasure, and 
 will remember the kindness of their youth. He 
 who will remember even a cup of cold water giv- 
 en to a disciple out of love to himself, will never 
 forget the humble resolutions of that young dis- 
 ciple who says to him, "Blessed Redeemer, I 
 would be more thy friend ; because thou hast so 
 few tliat are thy friends at all. Few offer thee 
 any of their time; so T would offer thee all the 
 rest of mine. Few show any gratitude for thy 
 iiving kindness, or thy dying love ; but, O thou 
 compassionate Saviour ! take my youngest and 
 
1G6 £ARLY PIETY PECUUARLY ACCEPTABLE. 
 
 best years, that thou raayest have all my life, 
 gince thou hast none of theirs." 
 
 § 7. Early religion has frequently to surmount 
 many discouragements, which may render it 
 more acceptable to him, who tries in various 
 ways the faith of his disciples. It is pleasine^ 
 to him to see his young followers overcoming 
 the world, and pressing onwards to heaven in 
 spite of all that is done to hinder them. Young 
 persons are most apt to be taken with the follies 
 and vanities of the world. Its theatres, novels, 
 romances, and other time-wasting and sinful 
 pleasures, have frequently more charms for them 
 than for those of riper years ; and by them its 
 laugh is often more dreaded. This, those who 
 will be seriously religious, must not always ex- 
 pect to escape. Ridicule is one of Satan's grand 
 weapons ; when his servants cannot persuade 
 others out of religion, they try to laugh them 
 out of it : so that we need not be surprised, if 
 we hear true religion ridiculed as fanaticism, 
 enthusiasm, unnecessary preciseness, or cant- 
 ing hypocrisy. But to take up a despised cause ; 
 in the face of an irreligious world, to choose re- 
 ligion; to scorn alike the laugh or frown of 
 men; and, in defiance of all discouragements 
 from earth or hell, to give your youth to God, 
 and glory in the cross of Christ: this is pleas- 
 ing in the sight of the Lord. Far would I be 
 from insinuating, that this is meritorious in his 
 view. No, if you do this and ten thousand times 
 more, you will still be an unj)roJitable servant; 
 still, as one of the chief of sinners, must be saved 
 by grace: yet, such conduct is pleasing to him, 
 who does approve, and will reward the humble 
 piety of his younjj disciples. 
 
PRAYER. 167 
 
 § 8. PRAYER FOR GRACE TO COPY THE EXAMPLES OF 
 EARLY PIETY, ENUMERATED IN THIS CHAPTER. 
 
 Blessed Lord, how many are those engaging^ 
 motives, which urs^e me to yieJd my all to thee! 
 With pleasure let me review those which have 
 been presented to me ; and not merely may the 
 review afford me pleasure, but from it may I ga- 
 ther immortal benefit. Is it indeed true, O my 
 God, that I have now the opportunity of makings 
 a more acceptable offering of myself to thee, than 
 I ever hereafter shall be able to make ? Is it in- 
 deed true, that in thy sight, and that of the bless- 
 ed Jesus, early piety has such peculiar charms? 
 Let me not doubt this, even for a single mo- 
 ment ; but rather let me bless thee, for conde- 
 scending so low, as to regard any thing in sin- 
 ful man as pleasing to thyself. Now then, O 
 Lord, make me a monument to the honour of 
 thy grace. Noiv wash me in the blood of thy 
 dear Son. Now adorn my soul with his spot- 
 less righteousness, and form me to his lovely 
 likeness. Let Jesus, beholding me, love me. Let 
 him see in me of the travail of his soul, and be- 
 hold in me another young convert to his gospel. 
 In these my early days, like Mary, may I sit at, 
 his feet and hear his icord; and O, may a double 
 portion of that spirit, which dwelt in thy chil- 
 dren of old, descend on me. Like Abel, 'may I 
 offer in sacrifice to thee, whatever I possess most 
 dear and precious. Like Enoch, may I waJk 
 with God. Like Abraham, may I sojourn on 
 earth, as in a strange country ; looking/^.r a citif 
 that hath foundations, laid by thy almighty hand. 
 O, may I possess the precious faith which he pos- 
 sessed, and follow thee, though I should not know 
 whither I am going! Like Moses, may I choose 
 
168 ADVANTAGES OF EARLY RELIGION. 
 
 r:ither to suffer afflicl'xoii with the people of God, 
 than to enjoi/ the pleasures of sin for a season. 
 May I esteem the reproach of Christ my great- 
 est honour ; and may I endure, as seeint^ thee 
 who art invisible. Like Joshua, may I serve tlie 
 T^^rd ; and, with Samuel, say, Speak, Lord, for 
 thy servant heareth. O, may I imitate the faith 
 and piety of all that goodly company, who sought 
 thee in their youth ; who loved thee in their 
 prime; and who are honoured by thee in the 
 realms of endless day. If but few love thee in 
 sincerity, let me be one of that happy few who 
 make God their all. Should I find early reli- 
 gion the source of many difficulties ; should it 
 even expose me to the contempt and aversion of 
 friends, whose esteem and love I now enjoy ; 
 yet, O my God, let not this move me ; but may 1 
 gladly bear my cross for him, who bore a heavier 
 cross for me. May I cheerfully go to him with- 
 out the camp, bearing his reproach, and esteem- 
 ing nothing dear compared with thy love ; no- 
 thing valuable compared with an interest in Je- 
 sus. Grant this, O blessed Lord, for my Re- 
 deemer's sake. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF EARLY RELIGION. 
 
 § 1. Among those things which have most in- 
 fluence on the minds of men, are profit and 
 pleasure. While recommending early religion 
 to you, think not that I wish to render you poor 
 or unhappy. Far from it : I rather wish you t > 
 be truly rich, and truly happy, not merely for 
 
EARLY PIETY COMPARATIVELY EASY. 169 
 
 the little span in which earthly pleasures or 
 riches nre enjoyed ; not merely for a period so 
 short as ten thousand thousand ages, but for 
 ever and ever. Where is that treasure to be 
 found that will enrich you for eternity ? Not 
 amidst the wealth of this world. " Man know- 
 eth not the price ^.hereof; neither is it found in 
 the land of the living. The depth saith. It is not 
 in luc , and the sea saith, It is not with me. It 
 cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be 
 weighed for the price thereof." Where are they, 
 that, but a few years back, possessed pleasures 
 and honours, parks and palaces, crowns and 
 kingdoms t All vanished from the world ; 
 
 — " And now, ye lying vanities of life. 
 Ye ever tempting, ever cheating train, 
 WLut are ye now, and what is your amount !" 
 
 While entreating you to pursue more solid good, 
 I would recount to you some of the advantages 
 of religion in youth. 
 
 § 2. Early piety is comparatively easy. The 
 total corruption of man's heart is such, that at 
 every period of life, there are difficulties in turn- 
 ing to God in reality. At any time it is need- 
 ful to strive to enter the strait gate ; but it is much 
 easier to turn to God in youth, than it is in later 
 life ; the heart is then not so hardened, as it is 
 by a longer life of impenitence and sin. The 
 mind is not so averse to instruction, as it is when 
 prejudices have so darkened all its faculties as 
 almost ♦o exclude the heavenly light. When 
 sin has long reigned triumphantly ; when Satan 
 has long led the sinner captive ; it is hard to es- 
 rope fr^m his tyranny, and many have experien- 
 ced this. The scriptures confirm the doctrine 
 of the difficulty of conversion late in life. " Can 
 15 
 
170 EARLY PIETY EASY 
 
 the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard 
 his spots ? then may ye also do good, that are ac- 
 customed to do evil." In this sense we may ap- 
 ply, with dreadful propriety, the words of Ni- 
 codemus : Can a man be born lohen he is old? 
 Wlien is it that disease is most easily checked ? 
 Not when it has laid fast hold on the vitals ; but 
 when its first symptoms appear. When is it 
 that the mistaken traveller may most easily for- 
 sake the wrong, and return to the right path ? 
 Not when he has travelled for miles in a wrong 
 direction, but when he enters that way Were 
 you rushing down a steep hill, when might you 
 most easily stop ? Not when you had nearly 
 reached the bottom, but when you began to de- 
 bcend. So 
 
 " 'Tis easy work if you begin , 
 
 To fear the Lord betimes ;y 
 While sinners that grow old in sin, 
 
 Are harden'd in their crimes." 
 
 In another view early religion is comparatively 
 easy. There is reason to believe that God will 
 sooner hear your prayers for mercy, and grant 
 you peace and pardon, if you turn to him imme- 
 diately, than if you refuse for awhile to listen to 
 his calls. If you delay to turn, God may after- 
 wards delay to manifest his forgiving love ; and 
 may lead you through tedious scenes of doubt 
 and pain, anxiety and fear, which, but for these 
 refusals, you would have never known. An 
 eminent Christian, who was converted by no 
 means at a late period in life, after feeling dis- 
 :i?){)ointment that his mind was not relieved 
 l.om its oppressive burden so soon as he had 
 iioped, observed, " I have now learned how un- 
 reasonable was such an early expectation. I 
 
AND HONOURABLE. 171 
 
 have been taught to wait patiently upon God 
 who waited so long for me.'* 
 
 Before your sins are more multiplied, before 
 your heart is hardened, before Satan gains a 
 firmer hold upon you, O, turn to God ! Make not 
 work for future repentance. Harden not your 
 heart now, lest God, in righteous judgment, 
 should harden it for ever. Employ not your best 
 years in shutting tlie gate of life against your- 
 self; or in filling with difficulties the only path- 
 way to heaven. If a person, with but one way 
 from a precipice, were to employ himself for 
 weeks and months in stopping up that way, or 
 in making his escape by it tenfold more difficult, 
 how great would be his distraction ! If another, 
 with one door opened, to let him escape from a 
 dismal dungeon, were to spend the time in which 
 he should flee from prison and the gallows, in 
 fastening up that one door with bolts and bars, 
 how great, how dismal, would be his folly ! But, 
 O my young friend, if you do not now turn to 
 Jesus and to God, far greater will be yours ! 
 By conlinuuig careless of the liord, you will fill 
 with difficulties that one way of escaping from 
 hell, which is now comparatively easy ; you will 
 shut against yourself the door of mercy by which 
 you should flee from destruction ; and will make 
 it tenfold more difficult for your own soul to es- 
 cape the flaming sword of divine Justice ; the 
 eternal prison which is never opened ; and the 
 fire that never shall be quenched. 
 
 § 3. Another advantage attending early piety 
 is, that it is that which is most honourable to 
 God and to yourself; and it is that which has the 
 fairest prospect of becoming eminent piety. Re- 
 ligion is honoured, when the young but faithful 
 
172 EARLY PIETY HONOURABLE, 
 
 votaries of the Lord, are seen renouncing the 
 world in the prime of their lives. The world 
 seems to imag-ine that religion is only suited for 
 jjloom and a^e ; but they show that it has charms 
 that win the hearts of the sprightly and the young. 
 The ^vorld seems to suppose that what Satan 
 leaves, is all that should be devoted to God ; but 
 the young followers of the Lamb show, that such 
 are the excellencies of his service, that it calls for 
 their youth, their health, their prime, their all. 
 How have the glories of religion been displayed 
 by those young converts, who, after a short course 
 of humble piety, have bid an early and yet joy- 
 ful farewell to all beneath the sun ; who have 
 seen no charms in this deluding world sufficient 
 to tempt their wish to stay ; but who have calm- 
 ly departed to eternal rest, Ijefore they had pass- 
 ed even sixteen, eighteen, or twenty years below ! 
 Will not you, my young friend, make that offer- 
 ing to the liord, which such have made ? Will 
 not you tell a deluded world that religion is bet- 
 ter than life.? 
 
 Early piety is honourable, as it is that which 
 is most likely to become eminent piety. Faint 
 at the best is the likeness of God on his children 
 in this world. The greatest saint is only a peni- 
 tent and pardoned sinner ; but when faith, and 
 hope, and love, and holiness appear in their fair- 
 est earthly form, then is religion honoured most ; 
 then even its enemies at times are constrained 
 to bear testimony to its excellence. Such are the 
 testimonies that the ancient heathens bore to the 
 virtues of the primitive Christians. "These," 
 said one, "are the men who speak as they think, 
 and do as they speak." "Behold," said another, 
 "how the Christians love one another!" Even 
 
PROFITABLE, AND LIKELY TO BE EMINENT. 173 
 
 the apostate Julian, their great enemy, com- 
 mended their charity and benevolence. Who is 
 it that bear most of these divine fruits? Is it 
 the late convert? Ah, no! "Those that are 
 planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish 
 in the courts of our God, they shall still bring 
 forth fruit in old age :" (Ps. xcii.) It is the pie- 
 ty of those who knew religion in early life, that 
 thus bears fruit in age ; and having borne it long, 
 still bears it then; and becomes eminent on 
 earth, or is glorified in heaven. If, as many 
 believe, there be various degrees of happiness 
 and glory in the eternal world, who have so fair 
 a prospect of reaching the higher, as those who 
 begin the soonest ? A person setting out on a 
 journey at day-break, may travel further by noon, 
 than he who sets out at noon would do by mid- 
 night. So in religion, they who yield their 
 hearts to Christ in youth, may get much forward- 
 er in the way to heaven by middle life, than 
 they could do by extreme old oge, if they were 
 to put off the care of the soul to later years. 
 Thus every way early religion has its advanta- 
 ges. If you now come to Christ, and should live 
 to old age, he may make your piety more emi- 
 nent here, and give a brighter crown hereafter ; 
 or if you should die, as many do, in the prime 
 of life, you will have lived long enough to find 
 the way to glory and God. 
 
 " Long do ti^ey live, nor die too soon, 
 Who live till life's great work is done." 
 
 Whatever may befall you, nothing would come 
 amiss, when either life or death were a blessing ; 
 when a longer stay below might more mature 
 the work of God in your soul, and a shorter one 
 would remove you to speedier glory. 
 15* 
 
1 74 EARLY PIETY THE 
 
 § 4. Early religion is not merely easy and ho- 
 nourable, but profitable piety. " Godliness is 
 profitable for all things, having the promise of 
 the life that now is, and of that which is to come :'* 
 ( I Tim. iv. 8.) It brings its own reward ; it will 
 advance your temporal, spiritual, and eternal 
 welfare. If you are rich, it would make you in- 
 finitely richer; would give you treasures, com- 
 pared with which, the wealth of the world la 
 lighter than a feather weighed against mountains 
 of gold. If poverty be your lot, this would make 
 you partaker of those blessings, which constitute 
 an angel's wealth. Though poor on earth, you 
 would be rich in heaven. The soul that en- 
 joys the blessings of the gospel, may truly say 
 to its great Author, 
 
 " Thou art my God, and all the world is mine : 
 While Thou art sovereign, I'm secure. 
 I shall be rich, till Thou art poor ; 
 For all I wish, aud all I fear, heaven, earth, and hell 
 are thine." 
 
 So profitable is true piety, that it would not 
 merely be the source of numberless blessings, 
 but would make all things blessings to you; 
 pain and sorrow, as well as ease and comfort; 
 sickness, as well as health ; and death, as well as 
 life. How blessed a slate this is to live in, and 
 much more to die in, you may perceive by the 
 following considerations. 
 
 § 5. Consider the privileges und spiritual 1)less. 
 ings that the disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ 
 possess. Perhaps, if I mention a few of them in 
 the language of some, who being dead, yet speak, 
 I shall present you with a more pleasing enume- 
 ration of these blessings, than I could oflfer in 
 
SOURCE OF NUMBERLESS BLESSINGS. 175 
 
 any words of mine. Hear then how the Chris- 
 tian can describe his wealth : 
 
 ** 'Tis mine the covenant of his grace. 
 
 And every promise mine; 
 All sprung from everlasting love, 
 
 And seal'd by blood divine. 
 
 On my unworthy favour' d head. 
 
 Its blessings all unite ; 
 Blessings more numerous than the stars. 
 
 More lasting and more bright. 
 
 The great the everlasting God, 
 
 My Father is become ; 
 Jesus, my guardian, and my friend. 
 
 And heaven my final home. 
 
 Jesus, thou art my righteousness. 
 
 For all my sins were thine ; 
 Thy death hath bought of God my peace. 
 
 Thy life hath made him mine. 
 
 For evermore my rest shall be. 
 
 Close to thy bleeding side ; 
 This all my hope, this all my plea, 
 
 For me the Saviour died. 
 
 Thy word, through all the tedious night 
 Of life, shall guide my way, 
 
 Till I behold the clearer light 
 Of an eternal day. 
 
 Light are the pains that nature brings, 
 
 How short my sorrows are. 
 When with eternal, future things. 
 
 The present I compare ! 
 
 The Lord has promis'd good to me, 
 
 His word my hope secures ; 
 He will my shield and portion be. 
 
 As long as life endures. 
 
 Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail. 
 
 And mortal life shall cease ; 
 I shall possess within the veil, 
 
 A life of joy and peace. 
 
176 CHRISTIAN PRIVILEGES AND BLESSINGS. 
 
 Tlie earth shall soon dissolve like snow, 
 
 Tlie sun forbear to shine ; 
 But fj'od who callM me here below, 
 
 Will be for ever mine. 
 
 And O what treasures yet unknown, 
 Arc lodg'd in worlds to come ' 
 
 If ricli the enjoyments by the way. 
 How happy is my home ! 
 
 Go, worldlings, boast of all your stores. 
 And tell how bright they shine ; 
 
 Your heaps of glitt'ring dust are yours. 
 But my Redeemer's mine." 
 
 Or hear the Christian addressing the world 
 
 "Ye sitnple souls, that stray 
 
 Far from the path of peace, 
 That lonely unfrequented way. 
 
 To life and happiness j 
 Why will ye folly love, 
 
 And throng the downward road. 
 And hate the wisdom from above, 
 
 Aud mock the sous of God ? 
 
 Madness and misery. 
 
 Ye count our life beneath ; 
 And nothing great or good can see. 
 
 Or glorious in our death : 
 Yet good unsearchable 
 
 In Jesu's love we know, 
 Aud pleasures, springing from the well 
 
 Of life, our souls o'erflow. 
 
 The spirit we receive. 
 
 Of wisdom, grace, and power; 
 And always sorrowful we live. 
 
 Rejoicing evermore. 
 Angels our servants are. 
 
 And keep in all our ways ; 
 And in their careful hands they bear. 
 
 The sacred heirs of grace. 
 
 Unto that heavenly bliss. 
 They ail our steps attend ; 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S BLESSEDNESS. 177 
 
 And God himself our Father is. 
 
 And Jesus is our Friend. 
 The God we worship now, 
 
 Will guide us till we die ; 
 Will be our God while here below, 
 
 And ours above the sky. 
 
 Such, my youns^ friend, are the privileges and 
 blessings of the children of God. In fact, they 
 are so great and numerous, that the promises on- 
 ly which are made to them in the scriptures, are 
 sufficient to fill a volume * 
 
 § 6. Glance at a few of the blessings, as de- 
 scribed in the scriptures, which the real posses- 
 sors of religion enjoy. There is joy at their con- 
 version hi the presence of the angels of God ; joy 
 over one sinner that repenteth. They are born of 
 God ; are new creatures in Christ Jesus ; in them 
 old things pass away, and all things become new. 
 They are blessed, for their transgression is forgiv- 
 en, and their sin is covered. While the world li- 
 eth in ivickedness, condemned and perishing, there 
 is no condemnation for them ivho are in Christ Je- 
 sus. They have passed from 'death to life. 
 Though their sins were as scarlet, they are white 
 as snow ; and though they were red like crimson, 
 they are as wool. Their iniquities are cast into the 
 depths of the sea; are as much hidden and as 
 much forgotten as those things which are buried 
 in the fathomless abysses of the ocean. Jesus is 
 the propitiation for their sins ; they have redemp- 
 tion through his blood. They are redeemed, not 
 with corruptible things, as silver and gold, but 
 iviih the precious blood of Christ. They ivere as 
 
 * See Clarke's Scripture Promises, an instructive and encouraging 
 book. Luke, xv. 10. John, i. J.5. 2 Cor. v. 17. Ps. xxxii. 1. 
 IJolin. V. 19. Rom. viii. 1. John, v. 24. Is. i. 18. Mic. vii. 19. 
 1 John, ii. 2. Fphesians, i. 7. 1 Peter, i. 18, 19. 
 
178 DESCRIPTION, IN SCRIPTURE LANGUAGE, 
 
 sheep going astray, hut arc returned to the shepherd 
 and. bishop of their souls. They are accepted in 
 the belored; and by the Father hyc made meet for 
 the inheritance of the saints in light; and nave a 
 hope laid up for them in heaven. Being justified 
 by faith, they have peace with God, through the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. The Son has made them 
 free, and they are free indeed ; and being made 
 free from sin, they have their //'mi7 unto holiness, 
 and the end everlasting life. The world is with- 
 out Christ, without hope, without God; but they 
 are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow- 
 citizens of the saints, and oftlie household of God. 
 Even on earth they belong to heaven, for they 
 are come unto mount Sion, unto the city of the liv- 
 ing God, the heavenly Jerusalem ; and to an innu- 
 merable company of angels ; to the general assem- 
 bly and church of the first born, which are written 
 in heaven ; and to God the Judge of all ; and to 
 the spirits of just men made perfect ; and to Jesus 
 the mediator of the new covenant. God is not asha- 
 med to be called their God, for he hath prepared for 
 them a city. They are even the children of God, 
 and if children, then heirs, heirs of God, and joint 
 heirs with Christ. Behold what manner of love the 
 Father hath bestowed upon them, that they should 
 he called the sons of God ; nor doth it yet appear 
 tvhat they shall be ; but they know, that when he 
 shall appear, they shall be like him, for they shall 
 see him as he is. In their Father's house are many 
 mansions; and their Lord is gone to prepare a 
 place for them ; and ivill come again and take 
 ihem to himself, that where he is they may be also. 
 
 1 Peter, ii. 25. Ephes i. 6. Colos. i. 12. Colos. i. 5. Rom. v. 1. 
 
 Join:, viii. .%. Rom. vi. 22. Ephes. ii. 12. Ephes. ii. 19. 
 
 Ueb. xii. 22, 24. Ucb. xi. IG. Rom. viii. IG, 17. 1 Juba, ill. 1, 2. 
 
 Juho, xir. 2, i. 
 
OF THE BLESSEDNESS OF TIIE PIOUS. 179 
 
 While such is their hope for hereafter, here they 
 are led by the spirit of God; are temples of the 
 Holy Spirit; and God hath sent forth the Spirit 
 of his San into their hearts, crying, Abba, Father. 
 They are the objects of the eternal Father's ten- 
 der care. The eternal God is their refuge. The 
 Lord of Hosts is their refuge. Like as a Father pi- 
 iieih his children, so the Lord pitieth them; and 
 loves them with a love more tender than that of 
 earthly parents; for he is their Father, though 
 Abraham be ignorant of them, and though Isaac 
 acknowledge them not; and if even father and 
 mother forsook them, the Lord ivould take them 
 up. The Father loveth them because they believe 
 on Christ ; and hath set them apart for himself 
 They may cast all their care upon him, for he ca- 
 reth for them. Their Father knoweth that they 
 have need of earthly mercies ; he will icithhold no 
 good thing from them, but to his other blessings 
 will give them grace and glory. He tvill never 
 leave them nor forsake them; but tvith everlasting 
 kindnes-s will he have mercy on them. He that 
 toucheth them loucheth the apple of his erje. 
 The mountains shall depart, and the hills be remov- 
 ed ; but his kindness shall not depart from them, 
 neither shall the covenant o/"his peace be removed. 
 No iveapori formed against them shall prosper. 
 Can a icoman forget her sucking child, that she 
 should not have compassion on the fruit of her 
 womb P yea, they may forget, yet luill not I forget 
 thee, saith the Lord. He watches them with a fa- 
 ther's tender care ; behold the eye of the Lord is 
 upon the righteous, and his ears are open to their 
 
 Ilora. viii. 4. 1 Cor. iii. 16. Gal. ir. G. Deut. xxxiii. 27. 
 J's. xlvi. /. Ps. X. 3, 13. Is. Ixiii. 9. Ps. xxvii. 10. John, xvi. 27. 
 Ps. iv. 3. IPet. V. 7. Matt. vi. 32. Ps. Ixxxiv, 11. Heb. xiii. '>. 
 Is- liv. 8. Zee. \\. a. Is. Ht. 10. Is. liv. 17. Is. xlix- It Ps. xxxiv. 1.1 
 
180 DESCRIPTION, IN SCRIPTURE LANGUAGE, 
 
 cry. He will enable them to overcome their 
 mig^htiest foes, even Satan will the God of peace 
 bruise under iheiv feet shortly. The very hairs of 
 their head are all niimhered. They have access 
 to God ; he hears their secret prayers, and will 
 reward them openly. Their fellowship is loith the 
 Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. Their ef- 
 fectual fervent prayer availeth much. Jesus is 
 their di * Shepherd. He the Lord is their 
 Shepherd, they shall not want. He icill feed his 
 flock like a shepherd, he will gather the lambs with 
 his arm, and carry them in his bosom. His sheep 
 hear his voice, and he knovveth them, and they 
 follow him, and he ^iveth them eternal life, and 
 they shall never perish, neither shall any one pluck 
 them out of his hand. They are branches of Christ 
 the living vine; are members of his body; are clo- 
 thed with Christ;* are lights of the ivorld ; salt 
 of the earth ; are dear to Christ as brother, and 
 sister, and mother, united. — When Christ de- 
 scribes their character, he pronounces them bless- 
 ed, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven; they shall be 
 comforted ; they shall inherit the ( promised ) land ;f 
 shall be filled ; shall obtain mercy and see God. 
 When the world persecutes and reviles them, 
 their reward is great in heaven. Their life is hid 
 with Christ in God ; and when Christ, who is their 
 
 * Few expressions are more striking than this. It has been observ- 
 ed, that putting on Christ implies, " that to God now looking on them, 
 there api)ears nothing but Christ; they are, as it were, coTejed all 
 over with him, as a man is with the clothes he has put on. And hence, 
 it is said, in the next verse, they are all one in Christ Jesus, as if 
 there were but that one person." Vide Doddridge in loc. 
 
 + Ten gen. The land — the heavenly land, the better country 
 promised to believers. Vide Campbell in loc. 
 
 Rom. xvi. 20. Matt. x. 30. Ephes. ii. 18. Matt vi. C, vii. 7, 11. 
 I .lohn, i. 13. James, V. If). John, x, 11. Ps. xxiii. 1. Is. xl. II. 
 John, X. 27, "28. John, xv. o. Ephes. v. 30 Gal. iii. 27. Matt. v. R 
 Watt. v. 13. Matt. xii. 50. .Matt. xlii. la. Matt. v. 3—7. 
 Matt. T. 11, 12. 
 
OF THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE PIOUS. 181 
 
 life, shall appear, they also shall appear with him 
 in giory. Jesus calls them his friends. The 
 tressed angeis of heaven are employed on er- 
 rands of love on their behalf, and are ministering 
 spirits to the heirs of salvation, The angel of the 
 Lord encampeth round about them; and those 
 happy spirits have a charge given them to keep 
 them. Their names are written in heaven; are 
 recordea in the hooK of life They form a little 
 fiock, to whom it is the Fatho-'s good pleasure to 
 qive the kingdom. For them a rest remains ; and 
 eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither have enter^ 
 ed into the heart of man the things ivhich God hath 
 prepared for them that love him. The Father him- 
 self loveih them, and is willing to grant their re- 
 quests , but they have also a great intercessor in 
 heaven, to add weight to their requests; therefore 
 they may go boldly to the throne of grace. Christ 
 ever liveth to make intercession for them ; he is 
 their advocate ; and while he pleads above, gives 
 them all needful grace below. He gives them 
 strength, and left them peace ; and the peace of 
 God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep 
 their hearts and minds through Christ Jesus To 
 them to live is Christ, and to die is gain The 
 Lot d will delivei them from every evil work, a,nd 
 preserve them to his heavenly kingdom; and as 
 their souls are committed to his care, he will keep 
 what they committed unto him. Though they are, 
 at best, bu<- unprofitable servants, yet their Lord 
 will own, and infinitely reward their little servi 
 ces ; so that even a cup of cola water, given to one 
 
 Col. iii. 3, 4 John, xv. ]4. Heb. i. 14. Ps. xxxiv. 7, ?s i.ci. II. 
 Luke, X. 20. Phil. iv. 3. Luke, xii. 32. Heb iv. 9. . Cor \\. 9. 
 Jofin, xvi. 20, 27.J Heb. iv. 14, 16. Heb. vu. 25. 1 Joan, m, I. 
 2 Cor. xii. 9. John, xiv. 27. Phil. iy. 7, 9- PhW. i. 23. 
 2 Tim. iv. J8. 2Tim. i 12 Lute, xvc" 1.*, 
 16 
 
182 THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE PIOUS. 
 
 of his disciples out of love to him shall in no 
 wise lose its reward. When they spea/ often to 
 one another, the Lord hearkens, and a boo, of re- 
 membrance is written before him, for fhevi that, thus 
 fear him, and think on his name. Biassed are they, 
 they do his commandments, and have a right to the 
 tree of life, and to enter in through the gates latc the 
 heavenly city. Though they must die, yet their 
 end is peace. If this earthly house of ineir taber- 
 nacle be dissolved, they have a building of God, a 
 house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
 When absent from the body, they are present 
 with the Lord. The day they depart they are 
 with him in Paradise. There they shall hunger 
 no more, neither thirst any more; they dwell be- 
 fore the throne of God; and there is no night there. 
 The lamb that is in the midst of the throne loiil 
 feed them, and lead them to living fountains of wa- 
 ters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their 
 eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither 
 sorrow nor crying, neither shall tliere be any more 
 pain. At length the Judge will descend ; then 
 even that body which was sown in corruption, 
 shall be raised in tncorruption ; it was sown in 
 dishonour, it shall be raised in glory. This mor- 
 tal shall put on immortality ; and the worthy 
 Judge eternal will say to his friends, Come, y& 
 blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared 
 for you, from the foundation of the tvorld; and 
 they shall go away into everlasting life, and shall 
 shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Father for 
 ever, and so shall they be ever with the Lord, 
 Thus all things are theirs whether the world, or 
 life, or death, or things pre^eni, or things to come, 
 
 Matt. X. 42. Mai. iii. 16. Rev. xxii. »4. Ps. xxx^ii. 37. 2 Cor. v. 1 
 
 »Cor. V. 8. I.ukc, xxiii. 43. Rev. vii. 14, 17. J i-or. xv. 42, 43, 53 
 
 Matt. XXV. 34, 46. Matt. xiii. 43. 1 ThcbS. 4. 17. 
 
APPEAL TO THE YOUNG READER. 183 
 
 aft aie theirs, and they are Christ's and Christ is 
 trO(ts. Happy is the people that is in such a case; 
 mea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord. 
 
 § 7. iboes not your heart, my young- friend, 
 burn within you, when reviewing such a cata- 
 logue of blessings ? Yet it is an imperfect one, 
 and the hall is not yet told. Do you not exclaim. 
 Let these blessings be mine! They may be 
 yours. Listen to Jesus; commit your soul to 
 him; give him your youth; and they shall be 
 yours, O, what treasures can vie with these ! 
 The Christian with all these blessings is rich in 
 every sense ; rich for time, but richer for eternity. 
 Crowns soon fall from the heads that wear them ; 
 parks and palaces soon vanish from their posses- 
 sors : but the riches of the believer infinitely sur- 
 pass them all. What can they want who pos- 
 sess such blessings as have been enumerated ? 
 To them, what situation can be destitute of com- 
 fort ? Does their possessor look upwards? it 
 is to his eternal home. Does he look downward, 
 and see the grave at his feet ? the grave, which 
 bounds the hopes and ends the joys of others, 
 is to him but a dark passage to eternal day. He 
 has friends, compared with whose friendship, that 
 of all the mightiest monarchs upon earth is as 
 insignificant as that of a creeping worm ; his 
 God, his Saviour. The young Christian may 
 say, God is mine ; Jesus is mine ; angels my 
 future companions ; and heaven my home. 
 
 "Though riches to others be given, 
 Their corn and their vintage abound; 
 Yet if I have treasure in heaven, 
 Where should my aftections be found ? 
 Why stoop for the glittering sands. 
 Which they are so eager to share, 
 1 Cor. iii. 2!, 23. Ps. cxliv. 11, 
 
184 THE FLOCK OF CHRIST BLESSED 
 
 rorgetting those wealtliier lands. 
 That form my inheritance there. 
 
 Ye palaces, sceptres, and crowns, 
 
 Your pride with disdain I survey; 
 
 Your pomps are but shadows and sounds. 
 
 And pass in a moment away ; 
 
 The crown that my Saviour bestows, 
 
 Yon pennaneut sun will outshine ; 
 
 My joy everlastingly flows, 
 
 My God, my Redeemer, is mine." 
 
 § 8. A most inestimable advantage attending 
 early piety is, that its possessors will enjoy the 
 Saviour's everlasting- love. "Whosoever," saith 
 he, " shall do the will of my Father, which is in 
 heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and 
 mother." All such are united with him in as 
 endeared and close a union, and enjoy as much 
 of his affection, as if they could join in one seve- 
 ral of the tenderest connexions. In youth and 
 in age the best blessings flow from his love. He 
 guides the inexperienced feet of his friends " to 
 fairer worlds on high." In youth his precepts 
 direct, in age his promises support them. His 
 love is an everlasting love. ''Who shall separate 
 us from the love of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or 
 distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, 
 or peril, or the sword ? Nay, in all these things we 
 are more than conquerors, through him that hath 
 loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, 
 nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor pow- 
 ers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor 
 height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall 
 be able to separate us from the love of God, 
 which is in Christ Jesus our Lord :" Rom. viii. 
 35. The love of Christ to his friends extends to 
 another and eternal world. His unwearied af- 
 fection, once displayed on earth, ehines brightest 
 
.^.. IN HIS EVERLASTING LOVE. 185 
 
 in that heavenly country whence every evil is for 
 ever banished. The limits of the world are much 
 too narrow for his goodness ; and within the 
 contracted bounds of mortal life, he displays 
 but a small portion of that love of which eter- 
 nity itself will be perpetually making fresh dis- 
 coveries Generation after generation dies, and ' 
 the dearest human ties are quickly broken. Our 
 fathers, where are they ? Our children, where 
 shall they shortly be? Mixed in the same 
 dust with those who lived five thousand years 
 before them ; but that band which joins the 
 humble disciple to the glorious Saviour, remains 
 unbroken The seas, the vallies, the rocks, the 
 mountains, may all be thrown into one confused 
 mass of ruin ; the stars may cease to glitter in 
 the sky ; the moon no longer walk in brightness 
 there; the sun be turned to darkness; and of 
 this fair creation, nothing, or nothing but a wreck 
 remain: this must be ; but the love of Jesus will 
 be seen in other heavens when these decay. The 
 real Christian may exclaim. Take wing, my soul ; 
 pass beyond these mortal things, "beyond the 
 flaming bounds of time," beyond the " last and 
 loved, though dreadful day." — Take wing, my 
 soul ; pass in thy thoughts beyond all these : but, 
 O, to what world, to what age wilt thou go, 
 where Jesus shall cease to love thee, or cease to 
 bless thee ! Nay, thou shalt be for ever with the 
 Lord. He, who for thee was content with the 
 manger for his palace, and thorns for his crown, 
 will never forsake thee. He, whose love to thee 
 shone forth so strongly amidst the clouds of 
 worldly sorrow, will not love thee less, now he is 
 surrounded by the splendours of eternal glory. 
 Nor death, nor life, nor evil angels, principalities, 
 16* 
 
186 BLESSEDNESS OF ENJOYING CHRIST'S LOVE, , 
 
 nor powers, nothing' within the circle of time, 
 nothing within the expanse of eternity, nothing 
 here, nothing hereafter, shall part his humble, 
 faithful, friends and him. Blessed Saviour, the 
 treasure of eternity shall be thy affection; the 
 boast, the bliss of eternity, shall be thy love. 
 happy they, who enjoy the love of Jesus Christ, 
 though with the loss of all the world ! Happy 
 even they, who died to secure it ! happy mar- 
 tyrs, who bled to keep it ! Happy they, who 
 sought it in youth, though at the expense of eve- 
 ry friend besides, of every comfort, and of lifti 
 itself! Yes, happy martyrs, happy sufferers, 
 who sought and found his love, when all the 
 world hated them for seeking it ! They have it 
 still. Their persecutions are no more. Their 
 friends, from whose bosoms they were torn, and 
 Avhose hearts bled to see them bleed, have long- 
 since gone to the chambers of the dead ; but they 
 have not lost the love of Jesus, nor will they 
 through eternal days. God of heaven, teach my 
 youthful reader to count all things dross, com- 
 pared with this most precious blessing. 
 
 § 9. Connected with tlje last blessing is the 
 equally inestimable one of the eternal Father's 
 love. If brought, through his dear Son, into his 
 family, you will become the o])ject of his tender- 
 est care. So much is said on this subject, in the 
 sixth section of this chapter, that it is the less 
 needful to enlarge. What can be more touch- 
 ing than to be assured, that the eternal God pi- 
 tieth his children, as a parent pitieth his infant 
 offspring; that he not merely knoweth their 
 frame, not merely is acquainted with all their 
 weakness, frailty, and sorrow, but remembereth, 
 ever keeps in view, that they are but dust; and 
 
AND OF BEING THE CHILDREN OF GOD. J 87 
 
 that it is a far more possible thing, not merely 
 for one, but for every mother to forget the infant 
 babe she fondles on her bosom, than for that great 
 but blessed God to cease to love his children. 
 What can be more pleasing than to hear, that 
 he, though so infinite in power and majesty, is 
 not ashamed to be called their God ; but has pre- 
 pared for them a residence, where his own hand 
 shall wipe every tear from every eye ! and where 
 he will own and love them as his children for 
 ever and ever ! When the Danish Missionaries 
 in India appointed some of their Indian converts 
 to translate a catechism, in which it was mention- 
 ed, as the privilege of Christians, to become the 
 sons of God ; one of the translators, startled at so 
 bold a saying, as he thought it, said, "It is too 
 much ; let me rather render it, they shall be per- 
 mitted to kiss his feet." Too great indeed we 
 might have supposed such privileges, if God 
 himself had not so plainly revealed them. Too 
 vast we might have supposed such love, if God 
 himself had not so clearly manifested in the gift 
 of Christ, that nothing is too vast for love like 
 his. If you remember your Creator in the days 
 of your youth, he will manifest all this love to 
 you ; he will guide you safely through a thousand 
 snares, and keep you from those evils which be- 
 set your slippery path. Yes, young man, or 
 young woman, many whom the Lord has guided, 
 are already in heaven; and many a thought- 
 less youth that has refused his guidance, is lift- 
 ing up his eyes in hell, while you are reading 
 these lines. Make God your guide, and he will 
 guide you safely to his eternal kingdom; and 
 love you with everlasting kindness there. Then 
 may you say, " 1 fcis God is my God for ever and 
 
188 LIFE UNPROFITABLE AND WASTED, 
 
 ever ; be will be my guide even unto death ; and 
 when my flesh and heart fail, the strength of my 
 heart and my portion for ever." 
 
 § 10. Another advantage of early religion is, 
 that its possessors avoid the evil of an entirely 
 unprofitable life. When Paul sent Onesimus, 
 who had been a dishont»st fugitive slave, back to 
 his master Philemon, he spoke of him as one that 
 had been unprofitable, but was now profitable to 
 the apostle himself, and to his former employer. 
 It is. my young friend, an awful fact, that while 
 destitute of early piety, you answer none of the 
 ends of your being. You are unprofitable to 
 God, for you bring him no glory ; you are un- 
 profitable to Christ, for you make him no thank- 
 ful returns for all his dying love. You are un- 
 profitable fu the world around you ; your asso- 
 ciates are not encouraged by your example to 
 follow the ways of peace, but, by your negli- 
 gence and folly, are hardened in their sin. You 
 are unprofitable to your dearest relatives. If they 
 are the friends of Christ, instead of cheering them 
 by your piety, your irreligion is their grief and 
 sorrow ; and if they are unacquainted with the 
 gospel, instead of striving to lead them to a con- 
 cern for its blessings, you go madly with them 
 to destruction. You are unprofitable to yourself ; 
 for, alas! while negligent of God, you are add- 
 ing sin to sin, and are making the heavy load of 
 your transgressions heavier; are filling up the 
 measure of ycur iniquities; and thus you are 
 heaping up wrath against the day of wrath. O 
 wretched youth ! and would you live but to make 
 your own hell the more dreadful ? your own per- 
 dition the more awful ? Would you live a cum- 
 berer of the ground ? useless as the mischievous 
 
IF SPENT WITHOUT EARLY RELIGION. 189 
 
 thistle ? baneful as the deadly nightshade? and, 
 in the sight of God, more hateful than the poi- 
 sonous serpent ? Were it even certain that God 
 would spare you to repent at some future time, 
 yet, through mere delay, how many barren, and 
 worse than useless years, would you pass ! The 
 late convert loses much peace and joy; much 
 holiness and happiness ; many opportunities of 
 serving God ; and much of that grace, of which 
 even the youngest never obtained enough. 
 Growth in grace is a work of time. An infant 
 does not, in an hour, obtain the strength, the 
 vigour, the comeliness, and stature of manhood. 
 Though an infant has all the parts of the fu- 
 ture man, he has them in a weaker state. The 
 new convert, compared with the confirmed Chris- 
 tian, is like an infant. He is in Christ, yet but 
 a little child in Christ. He is possessed of the 
 same dispositions as the more confiraaed Chris- 
 tian, but in a weaker state ; and by the growth 
 of years his graces are brought nearer to perfec- 
 tion. So universally is this the case, that even 
 the apostle Paul, not long before his martyrdom, 
 after being almost thirty years a Christian and 
 an apostle; still declared, that forgetting the 
 things that were behind, he reached unto those 
 that were before; and asserted that he was not 
 yet perfect. O, how much of divine grace must 
 they lose, whose best years slide away before the 
 work of life is begun ! ^Those years that might 
 be inestimably beneficial to themselves, are but a 
 dismal blank ; worse than a blank, are years mark- 
 ed with the stains of black ingratitude, neglect, 
 and sin. Should you delay obeying the gospel, 
 you will lose much grace here, and then may 
 
 IJohn, ii. 2. 12. rhil. iii. 12, 13. 
 
190 EARLY PIETY GLORIFIES GOD, AND OFTEN 
 
 expect to lose much glory hereafter ; and even if 
 a pardoned penitent at last, mij^ht have to utter 
 such a wish, as the celebrated Earl of Rochester 
 is said to have uttered ; he wished that he had 
 been a crawling leper in a ditch, a link boy, or 
 beggar, or had lived in a dungeon, rather than 
 dishonour God as he had done. 
 
 § 1 1. But, my young friend, reverse this scene. 
 Imagine religion to be your early choice ; Jesus 
 chosen betimes, as your Lord, and prized as your 
 salvation ; and God adored as your God : and, 
 O, how changed do all things appear ! Then 
 would you, in some humble measure, glorify his 
 dear name, who bought you with his blood. 
 Then would you recommend his gospel, and 
 display the influence of his love. Then, though 
 you would ever feel yourself an unprofitable 
 servant, an unworthy creature, yet your five ta- 
 lents, or two, or one, would be employed for the 
 honour of your beloved Lord. One of our poets 
 sa id of a departed friend, 
 
 " His virtues walked their narrow round. 
 Nor made a pause, nor left a void ; 
 
 And sure the eternal Master found 
 His single talent well employ'd !" 
 
 If you have no more than one talent, O, that 
 hereafter the same may be truly said of you ! 
 
 Early religion would cause you to glorify 
 God. His name would be honoured by you ; 
 his will done in you; his glory promoted in 
 your life, and advanced by your example. 
 Then too would you be profitable to your dear- 
 est friends. Are they pious, how would they 
 rejoice over you, and lay down their heads more 
 calmly in the dust, when leaving a beloved child 
 to fill up their place in the church of Christ be- 
 
BENEFllS THE FRIENDS OF ITS POSSESSORS. 19l 
 
 low, when they depart to that above O my 
 young friend, if you. have parents w^hose prayers 
 have long ascended to God in your behalf, 
 gladden their hearts, by choosing tKeir God for 
 yours; let them say over you — "This my son, 
 or this my daughter, was dead, and is alive 
 again ; was lost, and is found." 
 
 But perhaps you reply, "My parents and 
 friends are altogether unacquainted wath reli 
 gion ; they live careless of God, and have taugh: 
 me to do the same." Alas ! if this is the case, it 
 is a lamentable one ; yet perhaps youthful piety 
 might render you profitable to them. Do you 
 love them ; and can you bear the thoughts of soon 
 losing them for ever, or of meeting them only 
 in that miserable world, where affection never en 
 ters ? Yet this must be, if you and they make 
 light of Jesus and salvation. Much as you may 
 love each other now, all that love will be forgot- 
 ten, if you should together be banished to ever- 
 lasting darkness and despair; and would you 
 not save them from that dreadful ruin ! O ! it 
 you would remember your Creator in the days 
 of your youth, and perhaps this may lead them 
 to think of those things which belong to heir ev- 
 erlasting peace. Mr. Baxter relates, that at Kid- 
 derminster, which, under his ministry, became 
 almost "one house of prayer," his first and great- 
 est success was upon the young ; and he adds, 
 "when God had touched their hearts with a love 
 of goodness, and delightful obedience to the truth, 
 their parents and grandfathers, who had grown 
 old in an ignorant, worldly state, did many of 
 them fall into liking and love of piety ; induced 
 by the love of their children, whom they perceiv- 
 ed to be made by it much wiser, and better, anc 
 
102 EARLY PIETY 
 
 more dutiful to them." Perhaps God might 
 ♦bus bless your early attention to his jrospel ; and 
 surely if any thing could increase your future 
 blessedness, it would do so to think that those 
 you loved here, had, through your early religion, 
 been led to turn from the way to hell, and to en- 
 ter that to heaven. At o.ny rate, seek God for 
 your God ; if you cannot persuade your friends to 
 follow Jesus with you, yet follow him yourself. 
 That is indeed an unhappy family, in which 
 there is not one heir of heaven ; in which all are 
 going contentedly to destruction. Early conver- 
 sion would surely be profitable to yourself; it 
 would make all the blessings that have been 
 mentioned as the Christian's portion, yours. 
 
 Then also would you be profitable to others. 
 The ministers of the gospel might then be glad- 
 dened by you ; the church of Christ delight in 
 you ; the angels of heaven rejoice over you. 
 Perhaps, if spared for future years, you may be- 
 come a parent; and what a blessing it would be 
 to your family to train them up in the ways ol 
 peace. God might reward your exertions by 
 their conversion ; they might act the same part 
 to their cliildren ; and they again to theirs ; luid 
 thus religion, beginning in your early co'oversion, 
 might flow on in your family for ages to come. 
 Think not that this is an improbable case; it has 
 doubtless been often realized. 
 
 § 12. In addition to the blessings I have enu- 
 merated, it is the happiness of the real Christian, 
 that all events in life, are designed as blessings 
 to him. All are meant in mercy, and all will end 
 in glory. Even aflSictions are blessings, bless- 
 ings in disguise. " Whom the Lord loveth he 
 chasteneth, and scourgeth every son that he re- 
 
RENDERS AFI-LICTIONS BLESSINGS. 193 
 
 ceiveth. All things work together for good to 
 them that love God. Our light affliction, which 
 is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more 
 exceeding and eternal weight of glory." The 
 Christian often finds the path to heaven most se- 
 cure, when most beset with thorns ; and the sea 
 of life safest, when most stormy. Afflictions to 
 the children of God prove the best of mercies. 
 The smiles of this world might allure them to ru- 
 in ; but its frowns urge them towards heaven. 
 The martyr's flames have often preceded the 
 throne of heavenly joy ; the crown of thorns has 
 been the forerunner of a crown of glory ; and 
 they have drunk the most bitter dregs of griei's 
 most bitter cup, who shall hereafter rejoice ever- 
 more. It has been said, that on board a ship, 
 in the midst of a violent storm, when the mari- 
 ners were in distress and alarm, one little boy re- 
 mained composed, and being asked the cause of 
 his composure, answered, "My fathei^'s at the 
 helm." So may the Christian say in every trial, 
 "My Father, my Almighty Father is at the 
 helm ; and he will steer me safe through every 
 storm ; or, when he pleases, say to the tempest. 
 Peace, be still !" 
 
 § 13. One distinguishing advantage of early 
 religion is, that it prepares the soul for every 
 possible event. By committing your all to the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, you would make an early es- 
 cape from all the dreadful danger, to which you 
 are exposed by sin ; and would obtain an early 
 title to glory, honour, and immortality. Possibly 
 it may be the will of God, that you should live 
 to threescore years or more below. An early 
 knowledge of Christ would then secure to you 
 
 Heb. xii. 6. Rom. viii. 23. 2 Cor. iv. 17. 
 
 17 
 
194 NARRATIVE ILLUS IKATINr, THE 
 
 that protection, and that guidance, which wouM 
 make your hfe a life of piety and peace : happy 
 would it be for you to live, for you would live 
 to the Lord. But, perhaps, God designs only a 
 few more months for you. If so, though it mighl 
 be a happy thing for you to live, it would be a hap- 
 pier to die. Possessed of an interest in Christ, 
 you would find the shortest life the shortest path 
 to heaven. Early death would be early blessed- 
 ness. The world might lament your early, and, 
 in their view, untimely departure ; while you 
 were rejoicing in having gained so speedy a tri- 
 umph; in having reached, 
 
 -"With sails so swift, that peaceful shore. 
 
 Where tempests never beat, nor billows roar. 
 
 They who land there before they have passed 
 even the short span of twenty years in this world, 
 will never wish to come back and pass another 
 twenty here. 
 
 Let me relate to you a little history, illustra- 
 tive of this and one or two of the preceding 
 sections. Some years back, in a village in Der- 
 bysiiire, there lived a young and thoughtless 
 girl : her name was INIary. Like most around 
 her she knew not God. Her days were chiefly 
 employed in a cotton mill ; and if a holiday came 
 it was an opportunity for vanity and sinful plea- 
 sure. Soon after she had completed her thir- 
 teenth year, the season for the wake of a neigh- 
 bouring village arrived ; and she proposed to at- 
 tend that scene of dissipation and folly. A 
 young woman, who had herself chosen the better 
 part, persuaded Mary to accompany her to hear 
 a sermon. She went. The place of preaching 
 was the cottage of a humble, aged Christian, one 
 
BLESSEDNESS OF EARLY RELIGION. 195 
 
 Of* the Lord's poor. The preachei-'s subject was. 
 The carnal mind is enmity against God. jNIary 
 listened ; the liord opened her heart ; she felt 
 the power of divine truth, in a way she had nev- 
 er done before ; and left the house with feelings 
 very different from those, which she had on her 
 entrance. She had done with the wake. She 
 felt herself deeply sinful and corrupt; her mind 
 was harrowed up with distress ; and eternal sal- 
 vation became the object of her desires. Now 
 farewell to her former vanities and follies ; she 
 forsook them for ever ; and from that evening- 
 began to live anew. She sought, and at length 
 found peace in believing; and in her 17th year 
 was solemnly admitted into the church of Christ, 
 In this sacred connexion she adorned religion 
 by consistent conduct ; she prized her religious 
 privileges; was affectionately attached to her 
 minister; and secured the esteem and regard of 
 her Christian friends: abroad, she honoured the 
 gospel, in her narrow sphere; and at home, was 
 the comfort of her parents. A fev/ months after 
 her admission into the church of Christ, the 
 symptoms of a consumption appeared, and God 
 quickly called her to himself. In her days of 
 languishing and weakness, the Lord was her sup- 
 porter. She said that she found his promises 
 sweeter and sweeter ; that there are comforts and 
 delights in his word, which none know but those 
 who enjoy them; and that she never enjoyed so 
 many blessings as during the time of her afflic- 
 tion. Death had lost his threatening sting. She 
 knew in whom she had believed; professed 
 a wish to depart: I am not, said she, afraid in 
 the least of dying at any time. At different limes 
 she expressed her hope and peace ; or called on 
 
196 RELIGION THE GOOD PART WHICH 
 
 the friends that swriounded her dyin^ bed, to 
 praise her God. At length she calmly entered 
 into rest, before she had spent 18 years on earth. 
 See, my young friend, how much the grace of 
 God may do for them, who embrace religion in 
 early life, even in a little time. On her thir- 
 teenth birth-day, Mary was a thoughdess girl; 
 and ere her eighteenth could arrive, a saint in 
 light. Within the intervening span of something 
 more than four short years, she was enabled to 
 forsake the world ; to find a Saviour ; to profess 
 his gospel; to honour that profession; to lan- 
 guish calmly through months of sickness ; to 
 conquer death ; and doubtless land in heaven. 
 In that little time she found her Lord ; finished 
 his will, and went to rest. How blessed was ear- 
 ly piety to her! She might when first awaken- 
 ed, have said, ** I am not yet fourteen, surely here- 
 after will be soon enough for me ;" and had she 
 reasoned thus, and had she put off, though but 
 for a few years, her inquiry for salvation, God, it 
 seems, by early death, would have put it OiT for 
 ever. Delay not then to accept that blessing 
 which is the source of every other; your life is 
 as uncertain as was hers. 
 
 § 14. One inestimable advantage attending the 
 blessings which early religion would give you is, 
 that these shall never be taken away from their 
 possessors. Mary, said the Lord, hath chosen that 
 good part, which shall not he taken away from her. 
 As for the lovers of this world, their all is here, 
 and shortly their all will be for ever lost to them. 
 Soon may it be said of the young, the vigorous, 
 and the gay, who know not God, Where are ihey .»* 
 Gone from the world they loved so well. Where 
 their health, and yoiuhtul bloom? Gone! for 
 
SHALL NEVER BE TAKEN AWAY. 197 
 
 ever g'one I Where their gaiety and delights, their 
 hours of thoughtless merriment, their frivolous 
 amusements, their vain companions ? All gone. 
 There is not one earthly treasure, of vvhicli its 
 possessors can affirm, that none shall separate 
 ihem from it. Alas ! poor creatures, ye gay, ye 
 wealthy, ye lovers of pleasure, " what vain things 
 are they, that you embrace and cleave to ! What- 
 soever they be, soon must you part. Can you 
 say of any of these. Who shall separate W6? 
 Nay, you may even live to see, and seek your 
 parting. At last you must part, for you must 
 die: then farewell to vanity, merriment, and plea- 
 sure; farewell, if you had even sat on thrones, 
 to parks and palaces, gardens and honours, 
 crowns and kingdoms, dearest friends and near- 
 est kindred, all must be parted with, and what 
 have you besides ?" If you, my young reader, 
 are a lover of this world, what will you have left 
 soon ? But if a possessor of early religion, you 
 may say, "Not thus fleeting are my treasures. 
 Thou art my portion, Lord ; others have parks, 
 palaces, and crowns ; or wealth, gaiety, and plea- 
 sure; this is their portion : but thou, the God of 
 heaven and earth, art mine ; and mine for ever. 
 When the miser shall have lost his wealth, and 
 crowns have fallen from the heads that wear 
 them ; when the man of this world shall have 
 left the world he idolized, and all their delights 
 shall have forsaken the young, the pleasure-tak- 
 ing, and the gay — thou wilt still be mine : thor 
 wilt be my support, when rocks crumble into 
 dust, and mountains tremble to their base ; and 
 when the sun shall shine no more ; and when 
 the earth itself shall have vanished like a falling 
 17* 
 
198 MEDITATIONS ON THE 
 
 star, that blazes and expires — thou wilt be mine 
 etill, my God, and my portion for ever" 
 
 And now, were it possible to call from the dean 
 some that have died in youth, O, what a con fir- 
 mation would they give, to all that has been ur^- 
 ed upon you here ! They who have followea 
 Jesus while young, might say to you, " Follow 
 him we followed We soon embraced his gos- 
 pel, yet not one hour too soon Early as we be- 
 gan with religion, we began much too late ; and 
 could we have felt grief in heaven, we should have 
 grieved, that we did not sooner know, and love, 
 and serve our Loid. Death cut us down in the 
 morning of our days, yet we did not die too soon; 
 for we Had bowed betimes at the feet of Jesus ; 
 and had found eternal life in him. He washed 
 our sins away ; he renewed our hearts ; and pre- 
 pared heaven for us, and us for heaven. He 
 taught us to set our aflfections on things above. 
 We saw others engaged with all their hearts, in 
 the shadowy concerns of time ; we pitied them, 
 and trod the path of life. We smiled in death. 
 Divine grace made us conquerors over the grave; 
 and now we rest from all our labours. Heaven 
 is a long, long, happy home. Follow our Lord, 
 and he will l)e your Lord. Receive him, and he 
 will receive you. Commit your souls to him, 
 and all will be well with you, for time and for 
 eternity." 
 
 A MEDITATION ON THE SUBJECT OF THE CHAPTER, 
 CONCLUDED WITH PRAYER. 
 
 Come, O my soul, and in serious meditation, 
 again review these pleasing motives for yielding 
 thyself, thy all, to God. I am passing through 
 the world like an eagle through the air. I am 
 
ADVANTAGES OF EARLY PIETY. 199 
 
 young-, but youth and health have vanisned from 
 millions, and will soon vanish from me. Could 
 I now gain the throne and become the ruler of 
 this mighty kingdom, yet, in a little while, a 
 throne and a kingdom would be of no importance 
 to me ; but I hear of things that will concern me 
 for ever, of blessings that may enrich me for 
 ever. I hear of treasures of eternal worth ; trea- 
 sures, like those which angels enjoy, and which 
 make even angels happy. Thrones and king- 
 doms upon earth never will be mine, even for a 
 fleeting hour; but these far better riches may be 
 mine "when rolling years shall cease to move ;" 
 these may be mine through one eternal day. O, 
 let me glance again at this list of blessings ! For- 
 giveness, how much I need it! Forgrvensss so 
 free, and full, and entire, that though my sins are 
 as scarlet they shall be white as snow. — Peace 
 with God; peace even in this troublesome world; 
 peace far above all that earth can impart, and 
 which "itothing earthly gives or can destroy." — 
 The love of Jesus; love, stronger than death, and 
 more lasLing than time; love, which was mani- 
 fested/or me when he groaned on Calvary; and 
 love, which would be manifested to me, infinite 
 years beyond the day, when it shall be said. The 
 judgment is finished, the world, the sun, the stars, 
 are no more. Adoption into the family of God, 
 and the privilege of becoming a child of the 
 Most High-; the dear object of his ecernal love. 
 O, precious blessing! what more piecious can 
 even an archangel possess! what higher privi- 
 lege ! what nobler honour ! Can he go higher 
 than to say, I am a chi.'d of God ? O my soul, 
 'wonder and adore ! The highest distinctions of 
 archangels themselves may be thine ; and thou 
 
200 MEDITATIONS ON THE ADVANTAGES 
 
 mayst have the })rivilef:je of sayin^, Now, even 
 in this clyinj^ world, am I a child of" God ; and it 
 doth not yet appear what I shall be, but I know, 
 ihat when he shall appear, I shall be like him, 
 and see him as he is. — Even here, I may enjoy 
 his kindness and his care ; know him as my 
 father, and rejoice in him as my portion; even 
 here, may have an interest in ail his exceeding 
 great and precious promises ; and in the hei;^hts, 
 and depths, and lengths, and breadths, of his 
 immeasurable and everlasting- love. Even here, 
 I may look to Jesus as my elder brother, my 
 friend, my Saviour, my Shepherd, my forerun- 
 ner, my guide, my ^uard, my boast, my bliss, my 
 King, my God. But, beyond all the scenes of 
 time, his word reveals a brighter world. There 
 I may possess an inheritance, incorruptible, un- 
 defiled, and that fadeth not away; an inherit- 
 ance, compared with whose pure delights, the 
 sweetest earthly pleasure is but bitter pain ; 
 compared with whose wealth, the treasures of 
 kings are poverty itself; and compared with 
 whose duration, ten thousand times ten thousand 
 years are as the twinkling of an eye. All this, and 
 infinitely more than any tongue can express, or 
 heart can conceive, I may possess. When Jesus 
 invites me to go to him, and take his yoke, he 
 invites me to make all this my own. And canst 
 thou hesitate, O my soul, or canst thou delay ? 
 Shall I refuse so kind an invitation ? Shall I 
 lose all these eternal treasures, for the things of 
 a moment, that perish in the using? O, let me 
 not act so base, so foolish, so unprofitable a part ! 
 I see, indeed, that godliness is profitable for all 
 things ; and would be infinitely profitable to me. 
 Without it I had better never have been bom. 
 
OF EARLY PIETY, AND PRA.YER. 201 
 
 Without it I must be a mere cumberer of the 
 ground. Then my very being" would be a curse 
 to myself; and I should be a curse to my friends, 
 and a curse to the world ; but with it, in my 
 humble sphere, I should be enabled to glorify 
 my God ; I should live to my blessed Redeemer ; 
 and might die leaning, as it were, my languishing 
 head for support upon his Almighty arm. 
 
 Great and blessed God, from revolving these 
 things in my mind, to thee would I turn. O, let 
 them not be lost upon me ; let these precious 
 blessings all be mine. Deny me other treasures, 
 if thou wilt but give me these. Let me " win 
 Christ," and know him as mine ; and know all 
 the blessings which flow from bis love, either on 
 earth, or in heaven, as also mine. Give me the 
 comfort of hope ; the assurance of faith ; and the 
 heaven of holy love; that heaven in the soul, on 
 earth, which is the forerunner and the earnest of 
 an eternal heaven within me, and around me, 
 when time shall be no more. Let me not have 
 merely a wavering hope, but a strong unshaken 
 confidence that thou art my God ; that thy prom- 
 ises are my charter ; thy love my portion ; thy 
 kingdom my inheritance. AVhile early religion 
 is thus profitable and honourable, and desirable, 
 let it be my immediate choice. I^et me not, by 
 delay, make repentance more bitter, and conver- 
 sion more difficult ; but may I feel true humility 
 and sorrow for having wasted, and worse than 
 wasted, so much of my life ; and again, let me 
 entreat thee to give me grace, gladly to yield the 
 rest to thee ; or if, O compassionate Father, thou 
 seest that I have been led to this happy choice, 
 then, confirm me in it, and never let sin or the 
 world divide the bands which bind my soul to 
 
202 EARLY PIKTY THE 
 
 thee ; but may I be blest in Jesus, and humbly 
 and faithfully cleave to him. Grant me but 
 these blessings, and then make whatever pleases 
 thee, welcome to me. Let afflictions be welcome, 
 as the chastisement of thy hand ; and pain, as 
 sent to meeten me for the rest, where there shall 
 be no more pain. If thou art pleased to prolong 
 my days, let life be welcome for the sake of liv- 
 ino^ to my Lord. But if thou hast determmed 
 otherwise respecting me, if a few weeks or months 
 are to finish my pilgrimage below, let even early 
 death be welcome, as a speedier removal to eter- 
 nal life ; and let those years, which are taken 
 from my mortal course, be added to that eternal 
 day, to which thou hast promised to conduct all 
 the humble followers of thy Son. Great God, 
 thou seest nothing in me, to add weight to these 
 requests ; and never wilt thou see such worthi- 
 ness in a creature so unworthy ; but grant them 
 for his sake whose blood was shed to wash away 
 my sins. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE PLEASANTNESS OF EARLY PIETY. 
 
 " On parent knees, a helpless, new-born child, 
 Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smil'd f 
 So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 
 Calm thou mayst smile, when all around th».e weep." 
 
 § J. As another reason for early piety, glance 
 at some of the pleasures which true relij^ion 
 yields. It is the common delusion of the world, 
 that religion is a melancholy thing; "unsuitable 
 to the young and sprightly ; and of such a m\. 
 
SOURCE OF GENUINE PLEASURE. 203 
 
 ture that it would blast all their pleasures, and 
 render their lives dark and dreary. The word 
 of God, on the other hand, describes true reli- 
 gion as the only source of real comfort. It is 
 the only remains of Paradise below. That holy 
 Book declares, that "the ways of wisdom are 
 ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are 
 peace.'* It also tells us of "joy and peace in 
 believing;" of "rejoicing in God;" "rejoicing 
 in the Lord always;" of "rejoicing" in Christ, 
 "with joy unspeakable and full of glory;" of 
 " delighting" in " the Lord." The scriptures re- 
 present it as the Christian's portion to possess 
 " a peace which passeth all understanding;" "if 
 sorrowful," to be "always rejoicing;" to "glory 
 even in tribulation ;" and even if " the fig-tree 
 should not blossom, and there should be no fruit 
 in the vine," if the "labour of the olive should 
 fail, and the fields should yield no meat," if the 
 "flocks should be cut off from the fold, and 
 there should be no herd in the stall ;" if, in short, 
 famine and desolation were ravaging all around, 
 still to " rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God 
 of his salvation." 
 
 § 2. If, after this, you wish for human testimo- 
 nies, to the comforts which true piety affords, you 
 may have them in abundance. Not that you 
 should ask the men of the world. This would 
 be as absurd as to request a man born blind, to 
 describe the beauties of a fine prospect. As he, 
 who never saw, cannot tell what pleasures sight 
 affords ; as he who never heard, cannot describe 
 the delights which music yields its admirers ; no 
 more can they, who never knew religion, tell you 
 
 Prov. iii. 17. Rota. xr. 13. Rom. v. 2- Phil. iv. 4. 1 Peter, i. 8. 
 Pb. xxxrii. 4. Phil. iv. 7. 2 Cor. vi. 10. Rom. v. 3. Habak. iii. 17, la 
 
204 PLEASURES OF PIETY. 
 
 what its pleasures are. But would you know 
 whether religion is the best source of happiness, 
 ask those who possess it in reality. How many 
 such would tell you, they never knew what true 
 delight was, till they found it in religion ! How 
 many such would unite their testimony with that 
 of a young person, known to the writer, on the 
 evening after her solemn admission into the 
 church of Christ, " This has been a happy day 
 to me ; I hope I shall be faithful unto death, and 
 then my last will be a happier!" 
 
 § 3. True religion, though it forbids conformi- 
 ty to this world, and directs you to set your af- 
 fections on the things above, yet forbids no law- 
 ful use of the innocent comforts of earth and 
 time. It is true, it denies you the play-house, 
 that hot-bed of vice, the licentious romance, the 
 silly novel, and those scenes of worldly revelry, 
 which a poor deceived world call happiness ; yet 
 these are not sources of real happiness, even to 
 those who love them so well. On one occasion, 
 when some of Colonel Gardiner's dissolute com- 
 panions were congratulating him on his happi- 
 ness in licentious dissipation, a dog happened to 
 come into the room, and he could not forbear 
 groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, " O 
 that I were that dog !" Such was his happiness, 
 and such is doubtless that of thousands more. 
 Early piety would give you the best pleasures. 
 Through the knowledge of Jesus you would have 
 peace. Peace within. Conscience, that else 
 must be a troublesome monitor, would become 
 a delightful friend ; while the Holy Spirit would 
 witness with your spirit that you are a child of 
 God. Peace with God is another source of true 
 
 Rom. viii. 16. 
 
PEACE, AND COMMUNION WITH GOD. 205 
 
 delight, and this too would be yours ; you might 
 look on the Most High as a tender Father, and 
 beloved friend, while to the careless sinner he is 
 a dreadful foe. 
 
 § 4. Early piety would open to you another 
 fountain of real pleasure, by forming your heart 
 for the enjoyment of delights, far, far superior to 
 those of sense.' In communion with God, in 
 meditation on divine promises and love, the 
 Christian has those pleasures which he would 
 not exchange for all the pleasures of the world. 
 Even his tears of penitential grief afford him 
 more sincere delight, than they find in all their 
 noisy mirth. The public, as well as the private 
 sen'ices of religion, also yield true delight to 
 those, who, partaking of renewing grace, are capa- 
 ble of relishing the sacred pleasure. Hear how 
 one who knew these pleasures, could express his 
 feelings, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O 
 Lord of Hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even 
 fainteth, for the courts of the Lord ; my heart 
 and my flesh cry out for the living God. Blessed 
 are Ihey that dwell in thy house : they will be 
 still pi'aising thee. For a day in thy courts is 
 better than a thousand. I had rather be a door- 
 keeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in 
 the tents of wickedness. O God, thou art my 
 God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth 
 for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and 
 thirsty land, where no water is; to see thy pow- 
 er and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the 
 sanctuary. Because thy loving-kindness is bet- 
 ter than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus 
 will 1 bless thee while I live ; I will lift up my 
 hands in thy name." 
 
 Ps. Ixxxiv. 1, 2, 4, 10. Ixiii. 1 — 4. 
 
 18 
 
206 i'LLA8Uiu:.s Of nnY — ruL best 
 
 § 5. In various other respects the ways of wis- 
 dom are ways of pleasantness. Is it pleasinj^ to 
 think of dangers escaped ? early religion would 
 give you this satisfaction. You mioht, with won- 
 der and delight, reflect that God had snatched 
 you from perdition, and that though once an heir 
 of wrath, the danger were over, and you an heir 
 of heaven. Is it pleasant to think of treasures 
 obtained and friends possessed? This pleasure 
 would be yours. You might read the long cata- 
 logue of the Christian's blessings, and say of 
 each, "This is mine. This promise is made to 
 me." You might look upwards to the abodes of 
 bliss, and exclaim, "There dwells the ever- bless- 
 ed Jehovah, and he is my God. There is the 
 adored Immanuel, and he is my Saviour. Those 
 bright abodes, which lie far beyond the reach ot 
 mortal sight, are my future home. The stars 
 that adorn that spangled firmament, 
 
 'Are glittering dust beneath the feet 
 Of those who dwell with God.'" 
 
 In health and prosperity you might soy, "God 
 gives me much here, but how much more have 1 
 hereafter; how much better are my treasures 
 there !" Or in poverty, sickness, and* pain, you 
 might smile and say, " My all is not laid here." 
 Sweet is it for a seaman, that has escaped the 
 storm, fixed on a rock, to smile on the waves that 
 are beating beneath ; but O, it is far more sweet to 
 smile at all the terrors of time, as vanquished 
 enemies and baffled foes ! Who should be so 
 happy as they, who have a humble confidence 
 that eternal happiness is theirs ? Who should 
 enjoy such peace as they who can look at death 
 without fear, and view it as the path that leads 
 their souls to God, to Jesus, to heaven; to glory, 
 
BLESSINGS, AND THE BRIGHTEST HOPES. 207 
 
 endless as that of their Creator ; and to happiw 
 ness more real than sorrows are below ! Who 
 should possess such solid comforts, as they who 
 can turn their eyes to the grave, and dread not 
 the prospect of lying there ; who can raise their 
 thoughts to the starry heavens, and rapturously 
 consider, that they shall outlive these glorious 
 fires, and shine, adorned with brighter glories, 
 when stars and sun shall shine no more ! Who 
 should be so happy as thej^, who can contemplate 
 without dread, that solemn period, when the 
 world shall burn ; the trumpet sound ; the Judge 
 descend ; the dead awake ; and happiness or mis- 
 ery inexpressible, unchangeable, and eternal, be- 
 come the lot of every human being ! Go and 
 look into an open grave, try to fancy it opened 
 for you, and see whether you can imagine this 
 with peace and composure. If you cannot, learn 
 that all your delights do not make you happy, 
 for into the dreaded grave you must ere long de- 
 scend; and thousands possessed of the blessings 
 of humble piety, have trodden that gloomy path 
 with satisfaction ; and desired to depart and be 
 with Christ. 
 
 Is it pleasant thus to look forward, with sweet 
 anticipation, to future scenes of happiness? 
 This source of pleasure would become yours, if 
 a possessor of early piety. Is it pleasant to have 
 a I'riend ready to welcome us when a long jour- 
 ney is ended ? Jesus is the young Christian's 
 friend, he waits on the distant shore of heaven. 
 In their passage through the river of death he 
 will uphold his humble friends; and welcome 
 them to glory on their arrival there. The Chris- 
 tian too, indulges the pleasing hope of reunion 
 there, witli the pious friends he has loved beloiv. 
 
208 PLEASURES OF PIETY — THE HOPE OF 
 
 He can contemplate the happy bands above. 
 Patriarclis and prophets, apostles and martyrs, 
 and numbers to the world unknown, who have 
 loved the Lord, and won the promised crown ; 
 and among them he perhaps enumerates some, 
 once dear, still dear to himself, who have finish- 
 ed their pilgrimage, and whom he hopes to meet 
 again, when he shall finish his. O happy meet- 
 ing ! O blissful prospect ! Would not you pos- 
 sess it? and when you reach the close of life, 
 do not you desire the pleasure of panting for the 
 skies? the pleasure of being able to appeal to 
 the Lord, that you have humbly loved him ? 
 Do you not wish to say at last, " Gracious Re- 
 deemer, on thee I rest my hopes ; my best obe- 
 dience has been too imperfect; my most faithful 
 duties stained with too much imperfection ; my 
 love too cold ; my thankfulness too weak ; yet I 
 expect eternal life, for it was purchased for me 
 by thy blood. 1 look to heaven ; it was secured 
 for me by thy merits, thy sufferings, and thy 
 death. Gracious Lord, thine be the honour 
 while the infinite advantage is mine. It yields 
 me pleasure now to know, that thou seest that I 
 love thee ; and have loved thee, from my early 
 days. Thou hast seen me truly thine, imperfect 
 as I am ; and though I have often offended thee, 
 yet I bless thy name that I have been kept from 
 dishonouring thee, by those numerous and dark 
 crimes, which I should have committed if I had 
 not remembered thee betimes. Though I have 
 not done my duty, and am an unprofitable ser- 
 vant, so short of thy claims have been the ser- 
 vices of my youth, and those of my riper years ; 
 yet I look forward with joyful hope to the time 
 when I shall see thee as thou art ! and though 
 
HEAVEN — COMFORT IN AFFLICTION. 209 
 
 my time is almost finished, yet I rejoice in the 
 sweet prospect of passing eternity in thy pres- 
 ence, and there will I cast at thy feet that crown 
 which T have in expectation, and which was 
 bought with thy blood." 
 
 § 6. True piety is pleasant, for it is a source 
 of pleasure even in the midst of pain. Man is 
 born to sorrow as the sparks fi y upwards ; and 
 though many young persons seem to suppose 
 that that world which has been a storm to others 
 shall be a calm lo them, yet experience soon re- 
 moves the delusion. l:\o situation on earth can 
 give perfect peace. Even the most peaceful and 
 happy dwellings, where love and harmony ever 
 abide, cannot supply that blessing, for into them 
 pain has its avenue, and death its entrance; 
 death, that dissolves the fondest ties, and takes 
 away the life that is dearer than our own. But 
 no affliction can befall the true Christian, under 
 which his Redeemer will not give him suitable 
 support and consolation. A gentleman was in- 
 vited to visit an indigent man deeply afflicted ; 
 and gave the following account of what he wit- 
 nessed : "On entering the cottage, I found him 
 alone, his wife having gone to procure him milk 
 from a kind neighbour. I was startled at the 
 sight of a pale emaciated man, a living image of 
 death, fastened upright in a chair, by a rude me- 
 chanism of cords and belts, hanging from the 
 ceiling. He was totally unable to move either 
 hand or foot, having jnore than four years been 
 entirely deprived of the use of his limbs, yet the 
 whole time suffering extreme anguish from swell- 
 ings at all his joints. I asked, ''Are you left 
 alone, my friend, in this deplorable situation ?" 
 "No, Sir." replied he, in a touchingly feeble tone 
 13* 
 
210 PLEASURES OF EARLY PIETY 
 
 of mild resip^nation, " I am not aIo7ie, for God is 
 with me." I asked him if he ever felt tempted 
 to repine under tlie pressure of so long-continu- 
 ed and heavy a calamity ? " Not for the last three 
 years," said he, " blessed be God for it I" the eye 
 of faith sparkling, and giving life to his pallid 
 countenance, while he made the declaration ; 
 "for I have learned from this book in whom to 
 believe ; and though I am aware of my weakness 
 and unworthiness, I am persuaded that he will 
 not leave me nor forsake me. And so it is, that 
 when my lips are closed with locked-jaw, and I 
 cannot speak to the glory of God, he enables me 
 to sing his praises in my heart.'* 
 
 § 7. My young friend, are not such hopes, 
 such prospects as have been mentioned, sources 
 of real pleasure ? If you are a follower of the 
 world, what is there in all your vain delights, that 
 can bear any comparison with that holy peace, 
 that pure delight which flow from the love of 
 God, and a hope full of immortality? If you 
 yourself perceive no charms in these pleasures, 
 ask those who have tried them, what support and 
 delight they yield even in the last awful hours 
 of life. Go to the sick-bed of the humble believ- 
 er, say, " Poor sufferer, can you find comfort in 
 the midst of anguish P" " Yes," says one, " I have 
 pain, but I have peace, I have peace."* "What, 
 can you contemplate death itself with comfort?" 
 "Yes," replies another, "I bless God I can lie 
 down with comfort at night, not being solicitous 
 whether I awake in this world or another."! But 
 they who made these declarations had reached 
 advanced life. Go then to the sick-bed of the 
 dying youth ; ask him, " Can you feel any plea- 
 
 * Baxter + Watts. 
 
L\ THE DAY OF DEATH. 211 
 
 sure, while sickness blasts all the joyous pros- 
 pects which the ycun^ possess, and threatens 
 you with an early tomb?'' Let one reply who 
 being dead, yet speaks, "O, that I could but let 
 you know what I now feel I O, that I could show 
 you what I see ! O, that I could express the thou- 
 sandth part of that sweetness that I now find in 
 Christ! you would all then think it well worth 
 while to make it your business to be religious. 
 O, my dear friends, you little think what Christ 
 is worth upon a death-bed. I would not, for a 
 world, nay, for millions of worlds, be now with- 
 out Christ and a pardon. I would not for a 
 world live any longer : the very thought of a pos- 
 sibility of recovery makes me even tremble. 
 Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Death, do 
 thy worst. Death hath lost its terribleness. 
 Death, it is nothing. Death is nothing (through 
 grace) to me. I can as easily die as shut my 
 eyes; or turn my head and sleep; I long to be 
 with Christ; I long to die. O, that you did but 
 see and feel what I do ! Come and behold a dy- 
 ing man more cheerful than ever you saw any 
 healthful man in the midst of his sweetest enjoy- 
 ments. O Sirs, worldly pleasures are pitiful, 
 poor, sorry things, compared with one glimpse 
 of this glory, which shines so strongly into my 
 soul ! O, why should any of you be so sad, when 
 I am so glad? This, this is the hour that I have 
 waited for."* Or now ask the pious young wo- 
 man, who, while others of her age are flaunting 
 away in vanity and folly, lies on the bed of pain 
 and suffering. Say to her, "Is religion pleasant 
 in your esteem?" "Yes," she might reply, "yes, 
 1 am very happy: I would not change situation 
 
 * Janeway. 
 
212 PRAYER, IMPLORING THE PLEASURES 
 
 with any one living. Do not weep for me : I 
 have no wish to live; if I might have life by 
 wishing fon* it, I should rather choose to die, and 
 go to my Redeemer." "I long to go home." 
 " [ am truly liappy, and if this be dying, it is a 
 pleasant thing to die." "Not for all the world, 
 not for a thousand worlds would I be restored to 
 health."* The purport of these expressions was 
 actually uttered by two young ladies, neither of 
 whom completed her sixteenth year. O happy 
 they who learn so soon, so well to die! And 
 could you follow these to the triumphant family 
 above, and see that glory which no heart con- 
 ceives, then might a heavenly voice say to you, 
 " Hither lead the despised and neglected, but 
 pleasant paths of early piety." My young friend, 
 shall they lead you there? Can you be truly 
 happy in any other way? Can you be happy 
 too soon in this? Seek happiness, then at once ; 
 O, seek it in the love of your Redeemer, and the 
 favour of your God. 
 
 A PRAYER, IMPLORING THE PLEASURES OF EARLY 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Ever blessed God, thou art thyself m finitely 
 happy ; thy presence gladdens the holy hosts of 
 heaven ; and thy word discovers the way by 
 which I, a child of dust, may pass from toilsome 
 life to never-ending rest ! May J, through the 
 Lord Jesus, receive from thee that grace which 
 will make me, in these my early years, a partaker 
 of all the sweet comforts that religion yields. 
 May I possess that pure delight, that holy joy, 
 that steadfast peace, which flow from humbly 
 felJeving on a crucified Saviour. May T view 
 
 • Elizi Cunningham and Elfza M 
 
OF EARLY RELIGION. 213 
 
 him as GOD MY SAVIOUR ; and may my 
 
 spirit rejoice in him, ^aith joy unspeakable and full 
 of glory. While many ot" the young around me 
 "grasp seeming happiness, and find it pain;" 
 court pleasure, and win perdition ; may I obtain 
 solid peace, and rest, and happiness in thee. 
 Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance 
 upon me, and cheer me with thy smile. Give 
 me, O my God, a humble assurance that I am 
 thine : and may I look backward with pleasure 
 on dangers escaped ; and praise thee, for bring- 
 ing me from darkness to light, and from the 
 power of Satan to thyself. Number me with thy 
 saints ; and by faith may I see Salem's golden 
 towers, and heaven's eternal mansions; may I 
 behold the blood-bought crowns, the palms of 
 victory, and robes of light, designed for those 
 who follow Jesus, and who are faithful unto 
 death. Let me live, rejoicing in him as my 
 guide, my Saviour, my all ; and let me die, by 
 the eye of faith discerning him waiting on the 
 heavenly shore, to welcome me to himself, and 
 to introduce me into thy presence with exceeding 
 joy. And till that solemn moment arrives, when 
 I must exchange time for eternity, O, grant that 
 I may find the ways of early wisdom the ways of 
 true pleasantness, and paths of most solid peace I 
 May my heart be attuned for devotion, my soul 
 be transformed to relish the sacred pleasures, and 
 to delio^ht in the holy exercises of meditation, 
 praise, and prayer. Thus may I have meat to eat, 
 which the world knows not of; pleasures of" which 
 they cannot partake ; and may it be my meat and 
 drink to do my Father's will. Let me find in 
 thy promises, consolations more valuable than a 
 thousand worlds. In serving and loving thee, in 
 
214 MOTIVES FOR EARLY PIETY, FROM 
 
 communion with thee, and in anticipating thy 
 kingdom, may I taste, even in this world, some 
 humble foretaste of the joy to be possessed here- 
 after. 
 
 Blessed Redeemer, I look to thee. To thee 
 would I come, not merely for life, but for happi- 
 ness also. May I draw water ivith joy, from the 
 wells of salvation. Give me to. drink from that 
 fountain, of which thou hast said, Whosoever drink- 
 eth of the ivater that I shall give him, shall never 
 thirst; but the water that I shall give him, shall 
 be in him a well of water, springing up into ever- 
 lasting life. jNlay I partake of tliis water, and 
 thirst no more ; but feeling through thy grace, 
 an ever-flowing spring of holy joy in my own 
 soul, may I look with indifference on the boasted 
 delights of a vain world. Whatever happens to 
 me, let not my heart be troubled; but believing in 
 God, and believing in thee, may I find the light 
 afflictions, which are but for a moment, ivorking 
 lor me a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory. Grant this, O thou most compassionate 
 Saviour, to me, one of the most unworthy of thy 
 creatures, and thine shall be the praise. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE HAPPY CONCLUSION OF A RELIGIOUS LIFE A 
 MOTIVE FOR EARLY PIETY. 
 
 "And when the closing scenes prevail. 
 When weiilth, state, pleasnre, all shall fail; 
 All that a foolish world admires, 
 Or passion craves, or pride inspires; 
 At that important hour of needj 
 'Jesus' shall prove a friend indeed: 
 His hand shall smooth thy dying bed, 
 His arm sustain thy drooping head •, 
 
THE HAPPY END OF A PIOUS LIFE. 215 
 
 Aud when the painful struggle's o'er, 
 
 And that vain thing, the world, no more, 
 
 He'll bear his youthful friend away, 
 
 To rapture and eternal day: 
 
 Come then be his in every part. 
 
 Nor give him less than all thy heart." 
 
 § 1. It is, my young friend, the peculiar ex- 
 cellence of religion, that its blessings yield most 
 support, when that support is needed most. The 
 humble Christian does not love a forgetful God, 
 They whose strength and prime are devoted to 
 their Maker's glory, will experience his presence 
 and support, when their flesh and heart fail ; and 
 when death is at hand, to remove them to the 
 eternal world. If you remember your Creator, 
 m these your bJooming days, he will remember 
 this kindness of your youth through all the scenes 
 of your following life, and when you come to lie 
 down and die. Death is approaching ; and when 
 M.11 sublunary objects can yield you no support, 
 God would remember that, in you, he had a child 
 conflicting with the last foe; and you might, 
 with pleasure, think 
 
 "Though unseeu by human eye, 
 
 My Redeemer's hand is nigh; 
 He has spread salvation's liglU 
 Far within the vale of night." 
 
 Though death is naturally dreadful to man, yet 
 many of the young disciples of the Lord have 
 passed, with calm composure, or holy joy, through 
 its dark valley to the realms of everlasting day. 
 
 § 2. You are called on to imitate those who, 
 through faith and patience, are inheriting the 
 protnises. Take then a view of the concluding 
 scene of the life of one, who in his youth became 
 a disciple of the Lord. Think not that in refer- 
 ring you to the apostle Paul's departure, as an 
 
2IG DYING 1RIU!\1PH Ul THK APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 example of holy triumph over death, I refer you 
 to that of too elevated a character. Like you, he 
 was but man. Like you, was once a sinner. The 
 same blood that washed away his sins, may blot 
 out yours. The Saviour who was his all, is willing- 
 to be yours. The grace he possessed, you may 
 obtain. The strength, by which he conquered, 
 you may enjoy. The Spirit, that made a tem- 
 ple of his heart, is willing to make one of yours. 
 Though not called with a call miraculous as his, 
 though not employed in labours important as 
 those in which his life was spent, yet you may 
 be dear to his Lord ; entitled to the same sup- 
 ports and privileges ; and an heir of the same 
 blessings as he. 
 
 Long had this blessed apostle been, like his 
 Lord, a man of sorrows ; and his years had been 
 worn out in labours. At length the end arrived 
 when he might take a farewell to earth ; and he 
 did so with a calmness worthy the heir of abetter 
 world. His triumphant language was, " I have 
 fought a good fight ; I have finished my course ; 
 I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up 
 ibr me a crown of righteousness, which the liOrd 
 the righteous Judge shall give me at that day ; and 
 not to me only, but unto all them also that love his 
 appearing.*' " I know in whom I have believed ; 
 and am persuaded that he is able to keep that 
 which I have committed unto him against that 
 day." The world he was about to quit, concerned 
 him no longer. He could smile at its hatred, and 
 jDity its happiness. A brighter, a better, and an 
 eternal scene lay before him. We may imagine 
 him looking back on past scenes of suflfering and 
 labour; retracing in his thoughts many a weary 
 step, and many a painful hour; and then raptu- 
 
BLESSEDNESS OF PEACE IN DEATH. 217 
 
 rously exclaimins^ — " This is all over now ; my 
 course is linished ; the victory is won ; my dan- 
 gers are passed ; I have kept the faith. In vain 
 would earth or hell attempt to excite one fear, or 
 raise one doubt within my breast. I know in 
 whom I have trusted. I know that Jesus is my 
 Saviour, and an eternal weight of glory mine. I 
 know that (Jod is my portion ; heaven my home, 
 and that a few more days will land me safely 
 there." 
 
 § 3. O my young friend, let me tell you, and 
 tell you seriously, that you must die, and unless 
 you obtain the consolations of religion, must 
 knov/ their importance when too late. Think, 
 then, that ikus, in your case, early piety might 
 disarm death of its terrors, and drive away the 
 cloud of gloom that hangs over the gi'ave. Tkvs 
 might you also leave this world of vanity, assured 
 of an interest in Jesus, and of everlasting rest. 
 O happy, happy they who thus can die ! happy 
 they who so peacefully depart in blooming 
 youth, or withering age, from scenes of sorrow, 
 or from scenes of comfort ! still happy they, who 
 die blessed in an unseen Saviour's love; and 
 soon to be blessed by a present Saviour's gracious 
 welcome to the abodes of glory ! Happy they, 
 beyond all thought and all expression ! beyond 
 the power of mortal tongues to tell, or of narrow 
 time to utter ! Let the vain world keep its pos- 
 sessions ! let the fashionable and the gay enjoy 
 their short-lived gaiety, and quickly-ending plea- 
 sure ! Let the wealthy exult in their stores, and 
 the noble in their honours! these are not the 
 liappy. The solemn death. bed, where the hum- 
 ble, faithful disciple of Jesus has lain, has often 
 afforded a happier spectacle than the most happy 
 19 
 
218 BRIEP NARRATIVES, DISPLAYING 
 
 ever beheld in scenes of worldly revelry and 
 pleasure. Many followers of the world may be 
 found professedly happy while sporting amidst 
 the gaieties of this life, but where one so when 
 leaving them for ever? Many cheerful in the 
 world, but whei*e one so when going out of it ? 
 They may be cheerful living, but the Christian 
 can be so when dying too. 
 
 Perhaps you look on death as dreadful; but 
 many as young as you have met it without a fear; 
 and without a wish to stay longer here, have pass- 
 ed through that important hour to life, to happi- 
 ness, to Jesus, heaven, and God. What causes 
 Wie difference between them and you? Is it not 
 this? They knew in whom they had believed, 
 and, knowing this, knew also that heaven was 
 their home. O my young friend, embrace that 
 gospel, whose blessings formed their support! 
 Then if life, that most uncertain of all uncertain 
 things, should end long before you expect its con- 
 clusion, it will not end before you are found rea- 
 dy for a better. 
 
 § 4. It is not merely apostles and martyrs that 
 have passed triumphantly into eternity. IMany 
 of the young disciples of the Lord have died 
 with as much composure, and as much holy joy 
 as they. In 1808, died H. S. Golding, in the 
 24th year of his age. When he felt the approach 
 of death, he is stated to have uttered these raptu- 
 rous expressions: "I find now it is no delusion ! 
 My hopes are well founded ! Eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive the glory I shall short- 
 ly partake of! Read your Bible! I shall read 
 mine no more — no more need it!" When his 
 brother said to him, "You seem to enjoy fore- 
 
THE CHEERING POWER OF EARLY RELIGION. 219 
 
 tastes of heaven," " O," replied he, " this is no 
 lona^er foretaste — this is heaven! I not only- 
 feel the climate, but breathe the air of heaven, 
 and soon shall enjoy the company ! Can this 
 be dyino^ ? This body seems no longer to belong: 
 to the soul ! it appears only as a curtain that co- 
 vers it ; and soon I shall drop this curtain, and 
 Oe set at liberty !'* Then putting his hand to his 
 breast, he exclaimed, "I rejoice to feel these 
 «K)nes give way, as it tells me I shall be with my 
 tjod in glory!" 
 
 The last words that he was heard to utter, were 
 ^gIoiT> glory, glory!" 
 
 In July, 1827, died, at an early age, a young 
 disciple of the Saviour, related to the late emi- 
 nent missionary, Mr. AVard : her name was Jane. 
 When about fifteen, she embraced religion, and 
 sought peace in a Saviour's love, encouraged by 
 (he gracious promise, " Come unto me, all ye 
 rhat labour and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest.^ The happy influence of true piety 
 upon her heart, was displayed in her conduct; 
 and is pleasingly expressed in a letter written 
 about two years after her admission into the 
 church of Chiist. The heart that dictated, and 
 the hand that wrote, now moulder in the dust of 
 death, but some expressions written by that now 
 mouldering hand, may teach the young the worth 
 of early piety. ** I am in perfect health, but not 
 knowing how soon death may come. I am has- 
 tening to the grave, but not with sorrow ; for I 
 know in whom 1 have believed, and that he is 
 Jible to keep what I have committed unto him. 
 I must soon part with all below , and with you, 
 my dear minister, but not for ever ; for I hope 
 we shall soon meet in Christ, and part no more. 
 
220 BRIlit NARRATIVES, DISPLAYING 
 
 It is my desire to press forward. O that I conid 
 jflorify my Redeemer more lliun I do I Behold, 
 God is my salvation. IMessed be the Lord that 
 he hath enabled me to say this ! If I luid a tliou- 
 sand hearts and a thousand tongues, they all 
 should be employed in praising and adorintf tlie 
 great Redeemer. O that I could leave the world 
 and all its sins! When my mind is taken np 
 with the thoughts of eternity, then I want to be 
 gone to that world, where neither sin nor sorrow 
 shall wound. 
 
 Where they who meet shall never part, 
 Where grace achieves its plau ; 
 
 And God, uniting ev'ry heart, 
 Dwells face to face with man. 
 
 I want more giiace to subdue all the evils 
 within, and bring them into sweet and humble 
 subjection to the will of God. I would be his 
 entirely, and his for ever ; his in life ; his in 
 death ; and his to all eternity ; and then I know 
 he will be mine for ever. Life is uncertain, but 
 death is welcome; death is no more the king of 
 dread to me, through Jesus Christ. I long to be 
 with him. I am young, but not too young to 
 die; not too young to glorify my Redeemer; 
 who hath bought me with his precious blood. 
 The Lord has been my refuge in time of trouble. 
 Praise him for me, for I do not, I cannot, half 
 enough. His boundless love to me is unsearc!)- 
 able. Remember me in the prayers you offtv to 
 God. Prayer will not be wanted long. Praise 
 will soon begin in brightest strains. " 
 
 My dear young reader, these sentiments were 
 not expressed by a Christian worn out with age, 
 and ripened for heaven, by a long course of pie- 
 ty; but thev were tho.'^e of an amiable girl of 
 
THE CHEERING POWER OF EARLY RELIGION. 221 
 
 seventeen, nine years before the important sum- 
 mons to eternity came. Have you her comforts ? 
 is her Saviour yours? The peace thus impart- 
 ed by a knowledge of the Saviour, Jane enjoyed, 
 when the solemnities of eternity drew near. 
 Her last illness was long and painful. Ma- 
 ny hours of severe distress did she pass in her 
 sick chamber, or on her bed of death, but all was 
 peace within. 
 
 She said, "I have enjoyed for some years more 
 comfort than I can express; then why should I 
 repine ! — When I am not torn with pain, I 
 have always felt peace and pleasure — I wish to 
 be in heaven with my Saviour — -I trust I am 
 waiting for his coming ; I feel extreme pain at 
 times, but I do not feel 07ie puln in my mind." 
 At times she expected recovery, but could say, 
 " When I began to get better, I was not anxious 
 to recover — I am now very willing to suffer, if 
 the Lord will give wxe grace and strength — If I 
 knew I were not to recover I should be happy ; — 
 I can say with the Psalu'^ist, O God, my heart is 
 fixed ; — I know he is mine ; I know that I am 
 his ; — I have not a wish to recover." — Often did 
 she express her confidence in her Saviour, which 
 at times rose to the full assurance of faith. " My 
 mind is very happy — in a very happy frame, 
 and a thankful frame — I have not exultation, 
 but I know that if all the world were lost I 
 should be saved." — She anticipated with com- 
 fort an entrance on her heavenly Father's home. 
 With all this gladdening confidence, was min 
 gled deep humility; "I am," she said, "an un- 
 worthy sinner, and have done nothing for my 
 salvation." In her latest hours, when the power 
 of speech was almost gone, she faintly wiiisper- 
 19* 
 
222 BRIEF NARRATIVES, DISPLAYING 
 
 ec?, " Happy, happy," and seemed in prayer to 
 say, "Come, my dear Saviour !" — Shall you die 
 thus? Can you die thus unless you seek the 
 Saviour as yours ? and yield, like Jane, your 
 youth to him ? 
 
 Anne Bailey in early youth sought her God ; 
 but found no settled peace fni several years. 
 Thus tried, she felt tempted to give up hope; 
 but still persevered, and at length obtained the 
 peace she sought. Enriched with that blessing, 
 she desired admission into a Christian church; 
 and when about eighteen made the solemn pro- 
 fession of religion. 
 
 Her subsecuent course was one ot consistent 
 and honourable piety. She was, in various ways, 
 the subject of affliction. Under one trial, she 
 thus expressed her feelings: "By the grace and 
 assistance of my God, none of these things shall 
 move me from my steadfastness in the Lord. 
 Many, many, my dear M — , are the trials I am 
 called to encounter daily ; but that time is not far 
 distant, at the longest, when I shall have done 
 with trials ; and then I shall be for ever at rest. 
 Though every earthly friend should forsake me, 
 I have a friend in Christ, that will not: and 
 there is still a way of access to the throne of 
 grace. I hope we shall meet in that world, 
 where our employment will be praise to him who 
 hath washed us from our sins m his own blood.'* 
 
 A few months after the date of this letter, she 
 was attacked with an illness from which she 
 never recovered ; and which, with a few intervals 
 of less severe suffering, confined her principally 
 to her bed, for upwards of six successive years. 
 During this long period of affliction, her patience, 
 resignation, and peace were exemplary, in- 
 
! 'JTIE CHEERING POWER OF EARLY RELIGION. 223 
 
 Stead of repining at what she suffered, she often 
 expressed her gratitude for what she enjoyed ; 
 and her comfort from what she anticipated. 
 Many cheerino^ expressions of the peace that 
 filled her soul dropped from her lips during these 
 wearisome years. Her resignation appeared en- 
 tire. **Itis enough for me," she observed, *' to 
 know that I am suffering the will of God." Her 
 countenance frequently beamed with benignity 
 and sacred composure. The Saviour she ioved 
 was her hope : and, as eternal scenes drew near, 
 her hope retained all its cheering power. A 
 friend observed to her, that her Jiope was worth 
 the world. " More than the world to me, Sir," 
 was the expressive reply. When her last day 
 approached apace, nothing like a wish to stay 
 longer was visible. Not " one longing, lingering 
 look" did she seem to cast behind on the world 
 she was about to leave. She said, " I desire to 
 depart and be with Christ : I long to be with my 
 Saviour." She observed, that she would not 
 change places with any of her Christian friends, 
 who were in health around her ; and spoke in 
 her last hours of being " very happy." Her de- 
 sires at length were accomplished : and her Lord 
 look her to her endless home. 
 
 My young friend, learn from this short narra- 
 tive, that early religion is indeed a precious bless- 
 ing. Here you see it cheering a young disciple 
 through successive years of illness. While the 
 young around her were exulting in the sprightli- 
 ness and bloom of youth, the bed of pain was 
 her inheritance, the chamber of affliction her 
 dwelling; yet the Saviour's love rendered her, 
 in that sick chamber, happier than those who 
 know not God are in the midst of youth, and 
 
224 BRIEF NAURATIVES, DISPLAYING 
 
 gaiety, and health. The Saviour's love shed the 
 comforts of heavenly tranquillity around her bed 
 of pain ; brightened with immortal hopes her 
 chamber of suflferinp:; and when the last solemn 
 scene drew nigh, rendered death, usually the 
 king of terrors, more desirable than life with all 
 its attractions. If you are a disciple of the Sa- 
 viour, but tried with doubts and almost ovev^- 
 whelmed with sadness, let this young Christian's 
 experience encourage you ; learn from her his- 
 tory, that years of distress, while seeking salva- 
 tion, may be followed ' years of settled peace 
 — of peace so rich, and so rirm, that long afflic- 
 tion shall not weaken its power, r»or death disturb 
 its lioly calm. 
 
 Another young disciple of the Saviour, in his 
 last illness, observea to the writer, that the 
 thoughts of eternity were most pleasant to him. 
 He spoke of himself as lying at the Saviour's 
 feet, willing to receive ease or pain ; and said, 
 " Death is never once a terror. I am not afraid 
 to die ; it rather seems lovely. Christ is every 
 thing. — He is all. — I see more beauties in 
 him."— 
 
 Such cheering instances of the power of di- 
 vine grace have been almost numberless. One 
 of the last expressions of a dying saint whose 
 piety began in youth, w as, " Welcome joy."* 
 Another,f who sought God when but thirteen, 
 feeling her pulse while death was stealing on 
 her, said, " Well, it will be but a little while be- 
 fore my work in this world will be finished. 
 Then I shall have done with prayer. My whole 
 employment in heaven will be praise and love. 
 Here I love God faintly, yet I hope sincerely. 
 
 • Elliott f Mrs. Housman. 
 
THE CHEERING POWER OF EARLY RELIGION. 225 
 
 but there it will be perfectly. I shall behold 
 his face in righteousness, for I am thy servant, 
 Lord, bought with blood, with precious blood ; 
 Christ died to purchase the life of my soul. A 
 little while and I shall be singing that sweet 
 song, ' Blessing and honour, and glory, and pow- 
 er, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and 
 to the Lamb for ever and ever.' " With smiles 
 she often said, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. 
 
 blessed convoy, come and fetch my soul to 
 dwell with God, and Christ, and perfect spirits 
 for ever and ever ! O the glory, the glory that 
 shall be set on the head of faith and love !" 
 Soon after she said, " Farewell, sin ! farewell, 
 pains ;" and then in holy peace expired. 
 
 Many brought from all the abasements of idol- 
 atry and heathenism have felt in their dying 
 hours the sacred peace imparted by the Almigh- 
 ty Saviour. A converted Hindoo,! said in his 
 last illness, " God is my only hope. Life is 
 good — death is good; but to be wholly eman- 
 cipated is better. He is my God, and I am his 
 child. He never leaves me ; he is always pre- 
 sent." And alluding to the expressions, Grace 
 be to you, and peace from God our Father and 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, he said, *' Peace, peace, 
 
 1 now find in my own heart that peace." An- 
 other converted Hindoo,§ when dying, said, 
 "My Saviour hath sent his messenger for me, 
 and I long to go to him." A dying chief in one 
 of the Sandwich Islands, referring to his Sa- 
 viour, observed, "During the day I think of 
 Him ; durii\gthe night I think of Him , in pain 
 I think of Him ; in ease I think of Him ; I do 
 not forget him, and I trust he will not forget me." 
 
 * Pelumber. 9 Kribhna. 
 
S26 DEATH APPROACHING THE READER. 
 
 My youngf friend, shall such comforts be 
 yours ? While you see ihem found even by 
 those who once were heathens, will you nep^lecl 
 the Giver of ihem ? If you have not committed 
 your soul to Je<*us, will you still hesitate to do so ? 
 Perhaps your time for doing- so is almost gone. 
 Perhaps your days of health and vigour are al- 
 most fled. Perhaps you now see your last sum- 
 mer or your last winter; the winter of the grave 
 may be your next. Is any thing so important 
 that it should lead you, for a single hour, to 
 neglect that Saviour, whose favour will concern 
 you for ever? O how gladly would millions, 
 who were once the great, the noble, the wealthy, 
 the young, the sprightly, and the gay ; who once 
 shone in the ball-room, and glittered in the 
 theatre, welcome another day of grace, like that 
 you now enjoy! O how gladly would millions, 
 who were such but twenty or thirty years ago, 
 now flee frnm the wrath to come ! but, ah ' 
 they cannot; their day is past; but you may, 
 and let me hope you do embrace the gospel; 
 and let me, as it were, take you by the hand, 
 and lead you forward to future scenes. 
 
 § 5. You n«ist die ; yet if possessed of a 
 humble assurance that Jesus is your Saviour, 
 you may die in peace ; and when that hour comes 
 which has been passed with comfort by thou- 
 sands who were safe in Jesus, and with terror by 
 millions who were not; you undismayed may 
 meet that solemn hour. Then, when languish- 
 ing in your last sickness, you may wish for no- 
 thing less, and fear nothing more, than recovery 
 and longer life. O ! when this scene of vanity is 
 ending ; when all your ornaments must be 
 changed for a shroud, and all the amusements of 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S FAREWELL TO EARTH. 227 
 
 youth, or the cares of riper years, for the solem- 
 iiiliesof the eternal world; then indeed will ear- 
 ly piety appear a blessing past expression. 
 Then all that you are eager i'or now will have va- 
 nished like a dream ; the pleasures and the griefs, 
 the cares and the hopes of youlh, and life, will 
 be no more ; but the blessings of religion will 
 not have fled away. Then, when the last sands 
 of life are running out, you may gladly say. These 
 solemn, painful days will quickly hasten me over 
 the tempestuous sea of life; and land me "On 
 the peaceful shore of blest eternity." 
 
 And when you reacii the very borders of that 
 awful and amazing state, as with an angel's eye, 
 you might survey a vanishing world, and take 
 a last adieu of earth and time. — "Farewell, ye 
 scenes of imperfection ! Farewell, folly, sin, and 
 vanity ! Farewell, all that once I knew — the 
 spots I trod — the places where I dwelt — the 
 scenes endeared by friendly converse — the re- 
 treats made sacred by youthful devotion — all 
 farewell! I go where joy for ever reigns. I go 
 where sickness never comes. I go where death 
 is never known. I go where perfection and pu- 
 rity, happiness and endless life, shall be my long, 
 long portion. I go from mortal to immortal 
 things; from dying men to the living God ; from 
 fickle mortals to the steadfast Saviour; from sin- 
 ful creatures to joyful saints and holy angels 
 Adieu, vain world of cares, and doubts, and fears ; 
 yet, sacred world, where heaven was made my 
 portion ! Adieu, thou weary seat of troubles and 
 imperfections ; yet, endeared region, where t'le 
 Saviour's love dawned upon my soul ; and glo- 
 ry, honour, and immortality, became my inheri- 
 tance ! Adieu ! for ever, departing world, adieu ! 
 
228 THE christian's departure. 
 
 But O ! welcome, ye blessed spirits, that come to 
 convey me to my God ! AVelcome, my Saviour's 
 gracious call to his abode ! Welcome, ye bliss- 
 ful scenes of peace, and love, and joy, and praise ! 
 Welcome, heaven ! Welcome,, everlasting,^ life ! 
 § 6. At length your last conflict ends — your 
 pulse stops — to beat no more for ever — your last 
 hour comes — and goes — and you have done with 
 ihe world for ever. Your tongue is silent — your 
 eyes are closed — the silver cord is loosed, and 
 the golden bowl is broken — surrounding friends 
 look not on you, but on your lifeless clay — the 
 soul is gone — gone to other scenes — to an un- 
 changing, eternal world. O my young friend ! 
 dark and dismal as this hour appears to the eye 
 of sense, if you are found in Jesus it will not be 
 so to you; but when your last painful struggle 
 is over, in a happier world will your departed spi- 
 rit find that the blessed Jesus did not forget the 
 kindness of your youth. Then will your tri- 
 umphs begin. Others may hear your parting 
 groan, your expiring sigh, while you triumpliant- 
 ly pass into your Redeemer's presence. O bless- 
 ed change, when mortals weep because a friend 
 is dead, but angels exult because a frien J has en- 
 tered real life! Those who loved you may com- 
 plain, "Alas! our beloved friend is dead to- 
 day!" But could we hear the words of angels, 
 we might hear — " Another heir of glory has now 
 begun to live — another child of sorrow has left 
 all sorrows for eternal joys — the sad chamber 
 of sickness for these blessed mansions of hea- 
 ven — weeping mortal iriends, for Jesus and for 
 (lod; and now is ibis happy spirit with the L(.=rd 
 of (jlory, wlio, a few hours ago, was a prisoner in 
 a feeble, diseased, and dying body!" 
 
REFLECTION URGED. 229 
 
 § 7. O my youthful reader, if all the other ad- 
 vantages of early piety were to vanish in a mo- 
 ment, surely these should be sufficient to lead 
 you to make humble religion your lasting, only 
 choice. A few hasty years, at longest, must lay 
 you in the dust; but O! think of such an en- 
 trance into glory, and of an eternal dwelling 
 there ! Think of the joy with which, after a life 
 of humble religion, your spirit would ascend into 
 the presence of your Saviour, even before your 
 forsaken body was committed to the grave, even 
 before your lifeless limbs were stiffened with the 
 cold of death ! Think of the congratulations of 
 the holy saints and martyrs that fled to heaven 
 before you, and of their warm welcome on your 
 arrival there ! Think of the approving smile of 
 your Redeemer and your God 1 that smile which 
 would repay in one hour, the labours often thou- 
 sand years. Think of the delightful words, 
 "Come, thou blessed !'* Think of the joy with 
 which you would behold the God you loved, and 
 the Saviour you trusted ! And O ! think of that 
 great day when the divine Redeemer, before an 
 assembled world, would give you the crown of 
 glory, that fadeth not away 1 Then you, a shin- 
 ing inhabitant of heaven, would see, without 
 concern, the sun turned into dai-kness, and the 
 moon cease to shine; the stars fall from heaven, 
 and the heavens vanish away ; and when the last 
 trumpet shall have proclaimed, that time shall 
 be no .more, you might rejoice, that though time 
 had ended, eternity will never end ; that though 
 earthly pleasures proved a dream, heavenly de- 
 light will endure for ever and ever; and O! you 
 might add, "This eternity, this heaven is mine!" 
 
 And now, thou God of grace, let not those 
 20 •■ ' 
 
StiO FUTURE GOOD A MOTIVE FOR EARLY PIETY. 
 
 who read these patjes be unmoved by motives so 
 powerful, that they should soften even hearts of 
 stone, but by ihy spirit make them successful ; 
 for without him even these will be urged in vain. 
 Pity the young, that may be careless of these 
 solemn truths ; lead them to the Saviour. Then 
 shall they find him their friend in life, in death, 
 and at judgment, and for ever; and Thee their 
 God through endless days. For Jesus*s sake, 
 thus bless them, O thou compassionate Lord of 
 all. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FUTURE HAPPINESS OF THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN, 
 A MOTIVE FOR EARLY PIETY. 
 
 § 1. Having, my young friend, endeavoured 
 to persuade you to embrace early religion, by a 
 view of the scenes through which you must pass 
 on this side the grave, let me now beseech you 
 to contemplate the infinitely important scenes 
 beyond that solemn bound of earthly things. 
 
 The word of God reveals an awful judgment; 
 but long before its solemn scenes take place ; 
 long before the resurrection day, your soul will 
 pass into an endless world. The scripture doc- 
 trine is, that immediately after death the spirit 
 passes to a state of glory or wretchedness. Thus 
 Jesus said to the penitent malefactor, " To-datf 
 shall thou be with me in Paradise;" the apostle 
 spoke of being " absent from the body, and present 
 vnth the Lord;*' and Lazarus is represented by 
 the Lord as conducted to heaven; and Dives as 
 
 Lake, xxiii. 43. 2 Cor. v. 8. 
 
EKTRANCE ON HEAVEN. 231 
 
 waking in hell, even while his brethren were 
 livinaf upon earth. But the scriptures also teach 
 us, that neither the happiness of the blest, nor 
 the misery of the lost, will be complete till the 
 day of general judgment. 'J'hen the body will 
 rise in a new and immortal form, to partake of 
 the happiness or wretchedness of the soul. Then 
 will the doom of each individual be solemn- 
 ly and publicly proii-mnced, and the happiness 
 of the saints perfected, and the misery of the un- 
 godly awfully increased. 
 
 § 2. In the state of intermediate happiness ma- 
 ny now rest from their labours. Some of these 
 once wandered in sheep skins and goat skins, 
 being destitute, afflicted, tormented. Others were 
 sawn asunder, or torn in pieces by wild beasts, 
 or lingered for days in slow fires, or passed 
 through fiercer flames to heaven. Could you 
 ask these, whether what they now enjoy is worth 
 the pains they underwent; "Ah !" they might 
 reply, "ten thousand times more. What we 
 possess, would amply recompense the labours 
 often thousand lives, the sufferings of ten thou- 
 sand ages." If you find an interest in the Lamb 
 of God, you will soon be summoned to join these 
 sj>irits of the just made perfect; and, when the 
 last conflict is over, with inexpressible delight 
 may you spring upward to eternal rest ! How 
 great the change ! What new scenes ancj pros- 
 pects will that hour present ! what new joys in- 
 spire ! what new treasures unfold! what rap- 
 tares overwhelm the soul, just landed on that 
 ])ea(;eful shore! "Is this heaven I" may the 
 newly arrived pilgrim exclaim: "how grovel- 
 ling were my highest thoughts to this! Are 
 
 Luke, xri. 22. John, v, 29. Tim.iv. 14. Rev. xx. 12. 2The8. i. 6. 
 
232 ETERNAL JUDGMENT. 
 
 these the spirits of the just ! these the holy an- 
 freh of light! these my companions for ever! 
 
 how despicable was all I ever imagined com- 
 pared with this ! Are these they whose robes 
 were washed in Jesus's blood! Is this their 
 abode for ever, and is this mine ! O had I con- 
 ceived this below, how should I have sighed to 
 leave tliat dark dungeon, earth ! Is this my Sa- 
 viour, and is this my God ! O insufferable, yet 
 *j'ansporting glory ! How mean,- how worthless 
 is the world I left ! yet there are millions grov- 
 elling in its dust; and, but for heavenly grace, 
 
 1 might have done so too!" O blessed, incon- 
 ceivably blessed change for the holy soul, that 
 thus passes from the dismal chamber of sickness 
 to the bright and healthful regioiis of heaven ; 
 from dying pains to boundless bliss; from the 
 converse of sinful mortals to the presence of the 
 infinitely gracious and glorious God; from a 
 contentious, tumultuous world, to endless peace, 
 and rest, and love! 
 
 § 3. Now, for a few moments, turn your 
 thoughts to the day of general judgment ; ** that 
 day for which all other days were made." That 
 day, while it covers the wicked with confusion, 
 will realize the young Christian's fondest hopes. 
 You must behold all its solemnities. Then God 
 ** shall bring every work into judgment, with 
 every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether 
 it be evil." "We must all appear before the judg- 
 ment seat of Christ, that every one may receive 
 tlie things done in the body, according to that he 
 hath done, whether it be good or bad." *' I saw a 
 great white throne, and him that sat on it, from 
 whose face the earth and the heaven fled away. 
 
 Ecclei, xii 14. 2 Cor. v. 10, IL 
 
UNIVERSAL, FINAL JUDGMENT. 233 
 
 And I saw the dead, small and great, stand 
 before God : and the books were opened : and 
 another book was opened, which is the book of 
 life: and the dead were judged out of those 
 things which were written in the books, according 
 to their works. When the Son of Man shall 
 come in his glory, and all the holy angels wilh 
 him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his 
 glory ; and before him shall be gathered all na- 
 tions ; and he shall separate them one from 
 another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from 
 the goats : and he shall set the sheep on his 
 right-hand, but the goats on the left. Then 
 shall the King say unto them on the right-hand. 
 Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the 
 kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of 
 the world. Then shall he say unto them on the 
 left hand. Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- 
 lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his an- 
 gels. And these shall go away into everlasting 
 punishment ; but the righteous into life eternal." 
 How solemn is this representation — how infi- 
 nitely so will be the reality! Here is an as- 
 sembled world — all generations are met at once 
 — around are countless angels, spectators of the 
 great event — there is the Lord of heaven, en- 
 throned as the Judge eternal. With the same 
 ease as a shepherd distinguishes and parts his 
 sheep and gouts, does the Judge divide this 
 mighly multitude; and then pronounces that 
 doom which will make heaven's eternal mansions 
 ring with praise, or hell's tremendous dungeons 
 yell with horror. 
 
 § 4. Before that judgment throne you and I 
 must meet ; there must 1 account for the motives 
 
 Rev. XX. U, 12. Malt xxv. 31, ficc 
 
234 SOLEMNITY OF THE JUDGMENT DAY. 
 
 that have influenced me in writino^ these pages, 
 and you for the improvement that you have 
 made of them. How happily will you meet 
 that day, if now you listen to your God, and 
 choose the palh of early piety and peace! If 
 you now remember your Creator and your 
 Saviour, he will remember you in infinite mercy 
 then; for, O boundless grace ! the eternal Judge 
 \\\\\ then delight to honour those who honoured 
 him betimes below. Could you now behold the 
 Lord in that glory, what trifles compared with 
 his favour, would all that life can give appear ! 
 Small would seem the value of the universe, in 
 comparison of hearing from his lips, " Come, ihou 
 blessed!" Riches, pleasures, joys, splendour, 
 would be vanity itself; the passing shadow not 
 so empty, nor the flying feather half so light. 
 Even crowns and kingdoms, and all for which 
 the soul is neglected, would appear so worthless, 
 that you would not raise a finger to gain them 
 all. If you partake of his grace here, you will 
 see him there as your beloved Saviour and your 
 kindest friend, infinitely welcome will be those 
 solemn and decisive words of his, that will fix 
 your happiness for ever : " Come, ye bl*/ssed of my 
 Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from 
 the foundation oj the world." What rapturous 
 meditations will fiil their souls who hear this 
 sentence ! what sweet immortal praises flow from 
 their lips ! Early piety will then appear true 
 wisdom; and probably the far greater part of 
 ihat glorious company will be seen to have 
 sf ught their God in youth. " It is passed," may- 
 each of these exalted conquerors exclaim ! "It 
 is Dassed : he scene at which I trembled, and 
 yet rejoiced in mortal life, is passed; and O! 
 
HAPPINESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS THEN. 235 
 
 the prize for which 1 prayed, the blessedness 
 for which I looked to Jesus, through the few 
 years of mortal life, is all my own ! It is finish- 
 ed ! my conflicts are finished, and my glory 
 completed. T have heard tiie sentence of my 
 Judge; and listened while an assembled world 
 heard theirs. I have seen the Lord Jesus, that 
 Divine suflferer, who was all my salvation ; whom 
 on earth I loved and trusted, and whom I fol- 
 lowed, though with steps much too unequal ; and 
 now it is complete, my victory is complete — my 
 fears are vanished quite away — my hopes are 
 changed to certainty — but never did my highest 
 hope reach this triumphant scene. Blessing and 
 honour, and glory and power, be for ever and 
 ever to him that sitteth on the throne, and to the 
 Lamb that washed me from my sins in his own 
 blood." 
 
 If you, my young friend, give yourself to the 
 Lord, even the prospect of that day may yield 
 you pleasure. A young Christian once observed, 
 "If I were sure the day of judgment were to 
 begin within an hour, I should be glad with all 
 my heart. The thought of its certainty and near- 
 ness is more refreshing to me than the comforts 
 of the whole world." 
 
 § 5. Happy will they be who reach that hea- 
 venly country. Its glories cannotbe described. 
 "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
 entered into the heart of man, the things which 
 God hath prepai*ed for them that love him." "I 
 beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man 
 could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and 
 people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and 
 before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and 
 
 1 Cor. ii. 9. 
 
236 HEAVEN. 
 
 palms in their hands; and cried," our "salva- 
 tion " be ascribed "to our God and to the Lamb/' 
 "These are they which came out of great tribu- 
 lation, and have washed their robes, and made 
 them white in the blood of the Lamb. There- 
 fore are they before the throne of God, and serve 
 liim in his temple. They shall hun|^er no more, 
 neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun 
 lio^ht on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb, 
 which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed 
 them, and shall lead them unto living- fountains 
 of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears 
 from their eyes. And he will dwell with them, 
 and they shall be his people, and God himself 
 shall be with them, and be their God. And 
 there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor 
 crying; neither shall there be any more pain; 
 for the former things are passed away," How 
 pleasing are these descriptions! yet the most re- 
 mains untold. In that peaceful rest, no languor or 
 weariness oppresses the active spirit ; no disease 
 or ilcath shortens the endless life. No feeble in- 
 fancy or withering age; no aching head, nor 
 painful limb, nor troubled heart is there. No 
 blasts of grief there blight the joy ; no clouds of 
 distress darken the eternal day; but there are 
 spotless purity, peace, never disturbed, and hap- 
 piness, for ever unalloyed. There they whose 
 names are written in the Laml/s book of life 
 possess mansions not made with hands ; and 
 crowns of glory that sijall never fade away. 
 The " rigliteous will shine as the sun in the 
 kingdom of tiieir Father;" and liiere, "in his 
 presence is fulness of joy, and at his right-hand 
 are pleasures for evermore." 'I'here glorified 
 
 Rev. vii. 9. 14 — 17. Rev. xxi. 3, 4. Matt. xiii. 13. P*. xvl. 1 1. 
 
THE WORFH OF HEAVEN ILLUSTRATED. 237 
 
 saints and holy anp^els form one blessed family 
 in the presence of God and the liamb. O hap. 
 py day ! when all who have followed Jesus 
 here, shall dwell with Jesus there. O happy 
 world, where all are happy ! Could the Chris- 
 tian gain a glimpse of that, how would he pass 
 the rest of his time below, as an exile longing 
 for his home! O my young friend ! flee at once 
 to that Saviour who would give this heaven to 
 you; then soon will his. welcome voice prove to 
 you, that early piety is a blessed choice indeed. 
 § 6. Think of the state of those who in past 
 ages sought or slighted this boundless blessed- 
 ness; and O! let their condition now quicken 
 your desires for eternal life. Paul once stood a 
 prisoner at the bar of Festus, and Agrippa said 
 to him, " Almost thou persuadest me to be a Chris- 
 tian;*' but, alas ! it was but almost. Of how lit- 
 tle value now are all those things which once de- 
 terred him from seeking eternal life, by embrac- 
 ing a despised gospel ! Seventeen hundred years 
 have rolled away since Agrippa departed from 
 this world, and all his pleasures and all his splen- 
 dour are no more. The crown he wore exists no 
 longer — the pomps of life have for many ages 
 forsaken him. What are they now to his im- 
 mortal sou) ! All for which he neglected eter- 
 nity is gone. Paul stood in bonds before him, 
 but his bonds are vanished ; he no more endures 
 the pain of these ; but the blessed effects of his 
 knowing a Saviour's love endure. The lustre of 
 his crown outshines Agrippa's perishing diadem, 
 and never will it lose one ray of its g:lory. The 
 streams of his happiness are undiminished, and 
 will continue so for evermore. Altogether a 
 Christian then, and altogether a bright inhabitant 
 
238 GOD AND HEAVEN AN ETERNAL PORTIOIf. 
 
 of heaven now. Above seventeen hundred yeai-s 
 has Agrippa lost his fleeting- honours, pomps, and 
 pleasures. Above seventeen hundred years has 
 raul forsaken prisons, strines, and bonds; has 
 taken possession of his unfading inheritance; and 
 lives and reigns in the kingdom of his God. And 
 let these years be repeated ten thousand times 
 over, they would form but a little span of that 
 eternity, which is now the only measure of his 
 happiness, his splendour, and his triumph. 
 AVhich, my young friend, chose the better part? 
 you cannot surely hesitate to say. O choose the 
 same I By all the blessedness of a happy eter- 
 nity, be persuaded, with Paul, to count all things 
 loss that you may win Christ and be found in him, 
 not having your oimi righteousness as your trust, 
 but that which is b^j faith in Christ. Be wise for 
 eternity. Devotft your youth to God. Remem- 
 ber him now, and he will remember you in mer- 
 cy for ever. He will be your God here, and 
 your God in that bright world, millions of years 
 beyond the day when sun, moon, and stars shall 
 be blotted from the firmament. And the time 
 shall come when, if it should be asked, "How 
 long has that glorious spirit been an inhabitant 
 of heaven ? How long has it been enjoying God 
 and itself in that state of perfection? The an- 
 6wer would be such, that a line reaching even to 
 the remotest star, would not be able to contain 
 the number of ages, nor would miilions of years 
 be sufficient to number them down.'* O! then, 
 remember eternity. It is said that a pious man 
 once had this question put to him: "Why do 
 you spend so much time in reading, meditation, 
 and prayer ?" He, in reply, lifted up his hands 
 
ETERNITY. 239 
 
 and eyes to heaven, and solemnly said — " For 
 ever — For ever — For ever" 
 
 § 7. O for ever! for ever! for ever! Think 
 of this; and think that early acquaintance with 
 the Lord Jesus Christ leads to all this eternal 
 blessedness ! Eternity is the brightest jewel in 
 the triumphant believer's crown. Eternity makes 
 heaven a heaven indeed. If the Christian's 
 life here, instead of being crowned with nu- 
 merous blessings, were but one scene of dis- 
 tress, yet with eternal life as his portion, how 
 short would be the sorrow ! how long, how 
 lasting the joy I how hasty the pain ! how end- 
 less the delight ! how ie\w the moments of grief 
 and conflict ! how many the ages of triumph 
 and bliss! Earth you cannot have long, but 
 heaven you may have for ever. Here you can- 
 not long enjoy even the poor fading pleasures 
 of time, but there you may possess a whole 
 eternity of blessedness. What sweet words must 
 "for ever and ever" be to those happy spirits 
 that have entered heavenly rest. " This para- 
 dise for ever. This mansion of our God for 
 ever. This blessed society for ever. This tran- 
 quil rest and calm repose, this peace and love 
 for ever. This pure unbounded happiness. 
 This world of bliss, and light, and joy for ever !" 
 Infinite ages shall roll away ; vast eternity still 
 glide along ; but not one sorrow will they know ; 
 not one sigh will escape their hearts ; not one 
 tear drop from their eyes ; not one joy will they 
 lose ; not one passing cloud will bedim their 
 day. In Immanael's land will they ever dwell ; 
 still will they enjoy the blessings of their Fa- 
 ther's love, and of their Redeemer's favour, in 
 the highest perfection, nor ever fear the loss of 
 
i40 >.. ETERNITY. .^ 
 
 what they have; and O it will he so great, that 
 they will never wish for more ! For ever and 
 ever is the measure of their bliss ; and O what 
 is the for ever of heaven ! None on earth can 
 describe it ; none comprehend eternity. Were 
 the house you inhabit to be filled with the finest 
 sand, and then emptied so slowly that but the 
 smallest grain should be taken out once in ten 
 thousand years, how many millions of ages 
 would pass away before the last grain were re- 
 moved ! yet compared with eternity, these count- 
 less years would be like the twinkling of an eye. 
 Were ihe mighty seas, which dash their waves 
 upon so many shores, to be suddenly chang- 
 ed into one nrass of ink, and then to be em- 
 ployed in numbering down figures, and the 
 least figure to signify a million of years, what 
 countless ages would be numbered down before 
 the seas were emptied ; yet he who wrote the last 
 figure might say, " These ages are not eternity ; 
 they are nothingness itself, compared with that : 
 — less than one drop' to all the sea ; less than 
 one moment to all these infinite years: they are 
 like a tale that "is told, or a sigh that is forgot- 
 ten." Were this vast world one mass of sand, 
 and were the' Most High, by his infinite power, 
 to create as many worlds as there might be grains 
 of sand in this, and were he then to commission 
 a ministering angel to destroy them all, by re- 
 moving grain after grain, yet so slowly that he 
 should remove but one grain in a million of 
 years, what millions, and millions, and millions 
 of years, beyond all thought , and conception, 
 would pass away before one world were thus de- 
 stroyed ! and O what before all these numbers 
 wer« ! What an eternity would be here ! An 
 
ETERNITY. 241 
 
 eternity ! no, not a moment compared with it. 
 Sand after sand would be removed, though at so 
 infinitely slow a rate ; world after world would 
 be destroyed ; and the angel would finish his 
 task ; but finislt not eternity. Eternity would be 
 eternity still. One grain of sand would bear 
 some proportion to these numberless worlds ; 
 one moment to these countless millions of ages ; 
 but all these would bearnone to eternity; — when 
 they were past, it would still be " beginning — 
 rather beginning to begin." And had we lived 
 through these inconceivably countless years, 
 when we had seen them pass, and even pass a 
 thousand times over, we might still say, "But a 
 moment of eternity is passed." Beyond ages 
 that we might almost deem an eternity, other 
 eternities would rise in endless succession. Such 
 is the /or ever in heaven. Eternity is yours, and 
 it is mine. In a short time, the hand that has 
 written these pages, and the eye that reads them 
 must be turned to dust ; but in eternity we must 
 live for ever and ever, the companions of angels 
 or of devils. 
 
 k PKAYER, IMPLORING A PARTICIPATION IN THE BLESS- 
 INGS ENUMERATED IN THIS AND THE PRECEDING 
 CHAPTER. 
 
 Great and gracious God, in thy hand is the 
 breath of every living thing, and the life of all 
 mankind. From thee I have derived that exis- 
 tence which thou hast determined to make as 
 lasting as thy own. But though immortality 
 must be my portion in the future world, yet 1 
 know that in this it is appointed unto all men 
 once to die; and I am hastening to that hour, 
 which will more than realize all my hopes or all 
 my fears. Behold me supplicating mercy at thy 
 
242 PRAYER — FOR GRACE IN LIFE. 
 
 footstool ; and in, and through thy Son, make me 
 a partaker of that grace, whifh shall issue in 
 everlasting glory. 
 
 How solemn, great God, is the prospect of ap- 
 pearing in thy presence! How shall I endure 
 that awful, that amazing change, which will then 
 take place in my condition ! How shall I meet 
 thee ! Wilt thou welcome me to thy presence, 
 or bid me depart for ever I O let this doubt be 
 resolved before I die ! Blessed, for ever blessed 
 be thy name ! that, in thy glorious gospel, thou 
 hast shown how a sinner like me may become 
 just before thee; and O let the grace there dis- 
 played prepare me for the solemnities of death 
 and eternity. May I view life as a moment, and 
 esteem it my chief concern, in this world, to glo- 
 rify thee, and reach everlasting rest. May the 
 blessed Jesus blot out my sins in his own blood, 
 and thus prepare me to appear with comfort in 
 thy sight. May my youth, my strength, my 
 health, my heart, my soul, my life, my all, be 
 henceforth consecrated to thee. Number me 
 with thy children, and give to me the disposition 
 of a child ; with filial love, with patient submis- 
 sion, with holy delig' \ may I look up to thee; 
 and may the language of my soul be, Abba, 
 Father. May I enjoy such assurance of accep- 
 tance in the beloved, as will enable me to " read 
 my title clear to mansions in the skies." May 
 I know that he has loved ME and given himself 
 for ME. Only bless me, O Lord, with this as- 
 surance, and death itself shall be welcome to 
 me ! Unite with me, in faith and hope, every 
 friend I fondly love ; and may they, too, go to 
 Jesus, bearing his reproach ; .-uid thus prepare us 
 all to join in those triumphant strains — O death. 
 
AND SUPPORT IN DEATH. 243 
 
 where is thy sting ! O grave, where is thy vie- 
 tory ! Thanks he to God, who giveth us the vic- 
 tory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 At length, O most merciful Father ! the so- 
 lemn hour will come, and I must die. O in that 
 hour, when my flesh and heart fail, be thou the 
 strength of my heart ; may thy rod and thy staff 
 comfort me ! O in that hour, when all the ten- 
 derness of sorrowing friends will avail me not, 
 be thou more to me than all the world ! Disperse, 
 by thy presence, the gloom that shades the grave ; 
 and brighten that otherwise dark valley with the 
 sweet dawnings of immortal day ! Cheer my de- 
 parting spirit with the consolations of thy love ; 
 and may thine everlasting arms be my support ! 
 In the last hours of dissolving nature, enable me 
 to testify the value of tliy love, and may those, 
 who witness my dying moments, see me favour- 
 ed with such blessings as shall make them feel 
 that early piety is real wisdom. Gladly may I 
 take my farewell of earth, and leave friends and 
 kindred without regret, assured of going to dear- 
 er, better friends above. Then may He, who 
 suffered for me, be the foundation of all my hope; 
 and leaning my languishing and dying head up- 
 on his compassionate arm, may I breathe my 
 last, and sleep in Jesus. 
 
 And when. O Lord, I am numbered with the 
 dead, when my last hour is finished, and all the 
 joys or sorrows of life concluded for ever, O then 
 may those ministering angels, that watch thy chil- 
 dren's steps, become my convoy to the abodes of 
 bliss ! And may my joyful spirit, though be- 
 reft of the sweet converse of those it held most 
 dear below, yet find that it shall for ever hold 
 much sweeter converse with angelic friends. 
 
244 PRAYER — ADMISSION TO HEAVEN. 
 
 Then may an abundant entrance be administered 
 unto me info the everlasting kingdom of my Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ. May he inlroduce me 
 into thy presence ; there, with all thy saints of 
 ancient days, in p^lorious happiness to wait the 
 still fuller accomplishment of thy promises when 
 time itself shall finish. There, O my God, may 
 I exult in thy presence, even while those I left 
 behind attend this feeble body to its last long 
 home. AVhile they, with affectionate tears, com- 
 mit " earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,'* 
 O may I be rejoicing in having reached that land 
 where a sigh was never uttered, nor a tear ever 
 shed. And, merciful Father, if friends or rela- 
 tives should survive me that know thee not, O 
 may my death be their life ! and may they go 
 from my grave to prepare for their own ! 
 
 And when the period for that state of interme- 
 diate glory, which thy word reveals, shall have 
 past, may my sleeping dust arise to the resur- 
 rection of life; enraptured may I view the Judge 
 eternal on his great white throne; with gladness 
 may I hear the last trumpet sound, and the last 
 thunders roll ; with pleasure see the last light- 
 nings play, and the stormy scenes of time con- 
 clude. And O from the kind hand of Jesus, 
 may even I receive that crown of life, which fa. 
 def^i not away; the crown, which the Lord, the 
 righteous Judge, vnll give, at that day, to all that 
 love his appearing. 
 
 Then, O my most gracious God, fixed in 
 eternal rest, then, blessed with all the bliss of 
 heaven, may I with all thy ransomed family unite 
 in rendering thee praises for those infinite won- 
 ders of redeeming love, for which eternity itself 
 will never praise thee enough. Then may I and 
 
NO GOOD WITHOUT RELIGION. 245 
 
 millions more unite in that sweet sono^, "Worthy 
 is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and 
 riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, 
 and glory, and blessing. Blessing, and honour, 
 and glory, and power, be to him th;it sitleth up- 
 on the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and 
 ever." Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 NO REAL GOOD POSSESSED BY THOSE WHO ARE 
 DESTITUTE OF RELIGION. 
 
 § I. Those considerations from which T have 
 hitherto endeavoured to show the infinite impor- 
 tance of early piety, have been mostly of a pleas- 
 ing kind; but if you be one on whom all these 
 have been urged in vain, permit me now more 
 briefly to display the value of relii;ion, by pre- 
 senting to your view some of the dreadful evils 
 to wiiich the want of it will expose you. 
 
 Consider the words of the Lord Jesus to an 
 amiable youth, *' One thing thou lackest." He 
 wanted that one thing, which is of infinitely more 
 importance than every thing united besides. 
 Humble religion is the best of blessings, and the 
 want of it 
 
 " is worse than hunger, poverty, and pain, 
 And all the transitory ills below." 
 
 Heligion is so truly the one important blessing, 
 that it would, in the end, make up for the want 
 of every thing, while all earthly blessings urnted 
 can never supply its want. Were the whole 
 world your own, it could not give you real peace 
 in life ; it could not quiet the stings of conscience; 
 21* 
 
246 IRRELIGION DEPRIVES THE SOUL 
 
 it could not ease you in the hour of pain, nor 
 support you on the bed of death ; nor obtain for 
 you a place in heaven. If you possess friends, 
 the most faithful, endeared, and affectionate, yet 
 they cannot supply the want of his friendship, 
 whose favour is better than life. They cannot 
 drive sickness, pain, or death away ; nor cheer 
 your trembling soul when going to meet an in- 
 jured God; or when standing at his awful bar. 
 Helpless comforters would they then be; nor 
 could their prayers, or tears, or agonies, arrest 
 the dreadful sentence, " Depart from me, ye curs- 
 ed." Neither in God's sight will any personal, 
 any mental, or even any moral recommendations 
 stand in the stead of humble piety. " You must 
 be born again*^ or never enter heaven. Without 
 that divme change, God will look upon you as an 
 object of abhorrence; and all that is most pleas- 
 ing in human esteem, will no more recommend 
 you to him, than dressing a putrid corpse in fine 
 apparel would do to recommend it to man. The 
 richest dress could not make such a melancholy 
 object pleasing; but if life, and the bloom of 
 health and youth were restored to it, then it would 
 be so, though in the meanest garb. While desti- 
 tute of religion, you, in the divine sight, are only 
 a disgusting mass of corruption and iniquity ; 
 nor can the bloom of health and youth, or the 
 charms of beauty, nor the attractions of all the 
 pleasing endowments imaginable, hide from the 
 eye of God the loathsomeness of ruling sin. He 
 is declared to hate all workers of iniquity. (Ps. v. 
 5.) Even to be satisfied with being almost a 
 Christian, is to continue destitute of all real 
 good; you would then be like a whited sepulchre, 
 fair without, but within full of uncleanness. In 
 
OF iNUMBERLESS BLESSINGS. 247 
 
 this way you would go to hell, as it were, by the 
 j^ate of lieavcn. But if your nature were renew- 
 ed, and the divine image formed on your soul, 
 then though you were on earth most despised, 
 yet God would approve and love you. 
 
 § 2. The want of religion is a want which de- 
 prives you of a thousand benefits and comforts. 
 You live, without true wisdom, for the fear of the 
 Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge 
 of the Holy is wider standing. They must be 
 strangers to wisdom who are strangers to Christ, 
 the wisdom and the power of God. — You want the 
 forgiveness of sins ; all your crimes are upon you, 
 and the least of them is heavy enough to sink 
 you to hell. Forgiveness is the portion of those 
 who have come to Jesus for it. — You want com- 
 posure of mind and inward peace. The peace 
 which passeth all understanding cannot be yours. 
 — You may be asleep in sin. — Your conscience 
 may be seared as with a hot iron ; or you may 
 be indulging dreams of future happiness, which 
 never will be realized ; but the true peace of a 
 humble and pious mind cannot be yours till you 
 are Christ's. He left the blessed legacy of Peace, 
 not to the world but to his own. — You want 
 peace with God. There is no peace, saith my God, 
 to the wicked. You are naturally alienatecl from 
 God by sin, and till reconciled to him, God must 
 be to you an awful Judge, and you a rebel, de- 
 serving his severe displeasure ; and boundless a3 
 his love is to those that return to him by Christ, 
 yet to others he is a consuming fire. — You want 
 his fatherly care. Tn the hour of distress you 
 have no God to go to that you can justly call 
 your friend and Father. His children may ap- 
 
 Piov. ix. 10. , Isa. Ivii. 21. Htb. xil. 29. 
 
248 POVERTY AND MISERY 
 
 proach him as their own ; the languag^e ihey are 
 laiig^ht is, Abba Father ; but you are destitute of 
 this sweet interest in him. — You want all inter- 
 est in the love of Christ; how tender is his af- 
 fection to his people I but you have no part nor 
 lot in this matter. It is a treasure in which you 
 have no share. Unhappy youth ! to be without 
 a Savioui''s love. Wretched creature! to have 
 no part in that treasure, compared with which 
 the treasures of a thousand worlds would be as 
 dross and dust. You live wit .out a part in any 
 of the blessin«(s Christ bestows. He is no Sa- 
 viour of yours, though you may insult him with 
 the title of Saviour. He is no shepherd of yours, 
 for you refuse to suVunit to his gentle yoke, and 
 are not one of his flock. If you call the blessings 
 of his g'osj)^, grace and glory yours, you are de- 
 luding your own soul, for tht^y will never belong 
 to you I ill you belong to him. It is to his sheep 
 only that he gives eternal life; but j/ou will not 
 come to him that i/oii may have life. Calling him 
 Lord, Lord, will avail you not, for he has solemn- 
 ly declared, '• Not every one that saith unto me 
 Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of hea- 
 ven ; but he that doetli the will of my Father 
 which is in heaven. Many will say to me in 
 that day, liOrd, Lord, have we not prophesied 
 in thy name; and in thy name have cast out de- 
 vils ? and in thy name done many wonderful 
 works? And then I will profess unto them, I 
 never knew you : de|)U"t from me, ye that work 
 iniquity." 'I'hus you have no Saviour to take 
 your sins away ; no intercessor to plead for you 
 before the eternal Father's throne; no shepherd 
 to guide you through the wilderness of life. 
 
 Gat. iv. 6. John, t. 4a Matt vii. 21. 
 
OF THE IRRELIGIOUS. 249 
 
 Bright, indeed, are the hopes of those who are 
 truly the young disciples of the Lord ; but none 
 of those hopes are yours. O, the blest eternal 
 mansions of purity and joy ! the sweet immortal 
 morning of never-ending day ! O, the kingdom 
 of God! the smile of his countenance! tlie to- 
 kens oi" his love ! O, the welcome of a Saviour ! 
 and the crowns of glory that he purchased, when 
 wearing a crown of thorns ! O, the blessed soci- 
 ety above ! the bright natives of that higher 
 world, or revered saints from this ! These are 
 the hopes, that the dwelling, those the friends, 
 that the humble Christian shall shortly possess. 
 But, alas ! for you no glorious mansions are 
 prepared ; no Saviour smiles ; no heaven blooms ; 
 no immortal day shines for you. No crown of 
 life awaits you ; and none are ready to welcome 
 your entrance on eternity but those infernal 
 beings, who with hellish joy may exclaim. Art 
 thou become like unto usF 
 
 You want also those blessings that should 
 comfort you in death. All the false supports 
 and deluding pleasures of the world will then be 
 vanity of vanities, and what have you besides? 
 — You want a title to the bliss of heaven. — You 
 have no reason for supposing that your name is 
 " written in the book of life ;" for " he that be- 
 iieveth not shall be damned," and "except you be 
 converted you shall not enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven." Heaven is no home of yours. The 
 friends of Christ and the children of God are the 
 heirs of it; for they are "begotten again to a 
 lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible, and 
 undefiled, that fadeth not away, reserved in hea- 
 ven io): them ;" but the followers of the world are 
 
 Mark, xvi. 16. Matt xviii. 3. 1 Peter, i. 4. 
 
250 MISERY AND DANGER 
 
 the children of Satan, and have no part there; 
 ihey are "the children of wrath, without Christ 
 and without hope." (Ephes. ii. 3. 12.) Unhappy 
 young man, or youn«f woman ! this is too surely 
 your sad condition. O wretched creature I how 
 poor are you in the midst of all you may possess ! 
 how truly miserable, in the midst of all your gai- 
 eties and pleasures ! Poor irifler, you have not 
 one cheering^ promise in the book of God. If 
 you turn to God, you will have many, but now 
 you have not one. Not one promise that you 
 shall be kept out of hell, even for one month : but 
 many awful threats, that if you die as you are, 
 you shall be turned into that flaming prison. 
 Poor, indeed, are you, all you have will leave you 
 soon. Your hasty pleasures will soon depart, 
 and you must lie down in the dust of death; and 
 leave for ever the world you love so well; while 
 a dreadful and neglected eternity will appear be- 
 fore your trembling' soul. 
 
 § 3. The want of religion not merely deprives 
 you of numberless blessings, but exposes you to 
 numberless evi-ls. While without this one thing 
 needful, sin in one form or another, will reign 
 over you. You will be the easy prey of temp- 
 tations; companions in folly will l"ead you ustray, 
 and Satan guide you in the way to destruction. 
 Dreadful are the evils that sin occasions. An 
 old writer has truly said, " It brings upon us in- 
 finite sorrows, plagues, miseries, and the mosr 
 fearful judgments, blindness of mind, hardness 
 of heart, horrors of conscience, vexaiion aiid ar.- 
 guish of soul, bondage under Satan, the prince 
 of darkness, and banishment from God, tlie 
 fountain of all bliss ; and mischiefs more than 
 either tongue can tell, or heart can think. It 
 
OF THE IRRELIGIOUS. 251 
 
 kills an immortal soul eternally, which is more 
 than all the bloody men on earth or all the des- 
 perate devils in hell can do. It will bring- upon 
 it in the world to come sorrows without end, and 
 past imagination." How sad an end is this to a 
 few short years of sinful delight ! 
 
 § 4. The want of religion is a want which 
 spoils all other blessings. The longer the hum- 
 ble Christian lives, the more he may advance in 
 grace, and ripen for a crown of brighter glory ; 
 but if you live without religion, life will be no 
 blessing to you. The longer you live the worse 
 will be your guilt, the more numerous your sins, 
 and the greater your future condemnation. For 
 you in vain the Saviour died. His gospel is to 
 you the savour of death unto death. For you in 
 vain apostles preached, and martyrs bled, to hand 
 a gracious religion down. For you in vain the 
 followers of Jesus pray. The sun shines on you 
 in vain, for it shines to light you to destruction. 
 The years roll on in vain, for every added year 
 increases your load of guilt. Health blesses you 
 in vain, for your soul is sickening to eternal 
 death. All the mercies of this world, and all 
 that respect the next, are spoiled or lost to you, 
 and are, "but like a talent of gold, to a man 
 sinking in the sea, which only serves to plunge 
 him deeper in ruin." So that, harsh as it may 
 sound, it would really have been better for you 
 to have been cut off in your sins, and been sent 
 to hell years ago, than to live here adding to the 
 number of your sins, and then sink to endless 
 wretchedness. Yes, unhappy youth, if you con- 
 tinue careless of religion, every added year will 
 prove a curse instead of a blessing. The longer 
 you live in this Avorld, the deeper will be your 
 
252 IRRELIGION CHANGES BLESSINGS INTO CURSE?, 
 
 misery in the next. The more mercies you en- 
 joy, the more i^uilt you contract. The more bless- 
 inc^s you receive from God, the baser is your in- 
 gratitude and sin in refusing to give him your 
 youth. A dying profligate once said, " I have 
 been too strong for Omnipotence. I have pluck- 
 ed down ruin." Thus, by carelessness and neg- 
 lect, you change God's blessings into curses. 
 Oh, what would you think of a sick man, who, 
 by some fatal power, should change all the reme- 
 dies, by which a kind physician would restore 
 his health, into a subtle poison, which should oc- 
 casion him years of misery, and torture him to 
 death ! Distracted wretch ! you might exclaim, all 
 are kind to him but himself ! how happy might he 
 be, if he felt half the pity for himself, that others 
 feel for him ! Do you slight your God ? You 
 act this part; rather a far worse than this; you 
 change his healing medicines into poison ; his 
 blessings into curses. You heap up wrath against 
 the day of wrath. By the very mercies of God, 
 you are preparing matter for your own torment; 
 not merely through a few fleeting years, but 
 through a dreadful eternity. Distracted youth I 
 did you feel half that pity for your own soul, that 
 others feel for you, how happy would you be- 
 come ! how many are kind to you ! how cruel 
 are you to yourself! O, cease thus to run in the 
 path of destruction, you may yet find that one 
 thing, the want of which is so dreadful. O, seek 
 it now, for they that seek the Lord early, shall find 
 him. 
 
 " While Jesus speaks, his voice regard, 
 And seize the teiidi-T hour; 
 ». Humbly implore the promised grace, t 
 
 '""'r And God will gi\e the pow'r." 
 
253 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE yoCNG SINNER'S INGRATITUDE TO GOD, AND 
 CRUELTY TO HIS OWN SOUL, URGED AS REASONS 
 FOR EMBRACANO RELIGION IN YOUTH. 
 
 §1.1 HAVE already, my young friend, shown 
 you, that by the piety of youth you may testify 
 the most g"ratitude for divine love: and that God 
 would remember this kindness of your youth, to 
 your infinite advantage: but perhaps you still 
 remain undecided. I beseech you then, spend a 
 few moments in meditating- on the unkindness of 
 a youth of sin to God, and on its cruelty to your- 
 self. Indulge those thoughts that may now be 
 useful ; but which will otherwise fill your last 
 hours with horror, and plant your dying bed with 
 thorns. 
 
 While you continue careless of religion, you 
 lead a life of base mgratitude to the God that 
 gave you being. Ingratitude has been pronoun- 
 ced 
 
 " Of vi-ces first, piost infamous, and most accurs'd." 
 
 It is indescribably base when manifested to a 
 friend or parent, in this world ; but baser still is 
 ingratitude to God. Has not he given you life, 
 and crowned that life with comfort? Whence 
 flows the -ase of health ? or whence the cheerful 
 vigour rf youth but from his kindness to you^ 
 Wriefi-e tiie friends, the parents, the comforts 
 that you have enjoyed ? All are the gifts of 
 God. He has blessed you here, and in the gift 
 of Jesus, provided for your blessedness hereafter; 
 and does all this goodness merit no thankful 
 return? Shall God be thus kind to vou, and 
 22 
 
2o4 BY IRRELIGION THE YOUNG BASELY 
 
 you unkind to him? Do you remember a fable, 
 which perhaps you may have read in your child- 
 hood ? A compassionate countryman found a 
 serpent, chilled with frost; he pitied it; he put 
 It in his bosom. The vital warmth restored it to 
 life and activity; but what was its first action? 
 Jt would fain have destroyed its benefactor. 
 Apply tliis fable to the present subject. Has 
 not God done more for you than words can ex- 
 press? Are not you indebted to him for life, 
 breath, being, and all things ? Through his fos- 
 tering care, you have reached the vigour and 
 bloom of youth ; and what are your first actions? 
 Neglect of God and religion ; and thus base in- 
 givatitude and sin. O, is not this imitating the 
 serpent** It is true, your abused benefactor is 
 beyond the reach of real injury; but your in- 
 gratitude is the same, as if he could receive th'e 
 greatest injuiy from you. You deny him your 
 favoured youth. The time in which you are 
 most favoured by God, the blooming season 
 which he values moit, that very time, that very 
 bloom, you give to Satan, the >vorld and sin. O 1 
 M'hile you act this part, little as you may suspect 
 it, the venom of the old serpent is rankling in 
 your heart. 
 
 Perhaps you delude yourself by imaginhig 
 that you shall present him the latter part of life; 
 but does not his goodness claim all you.r days?* 
 Besides, what can the aged convert offer ? 
 " His riches ? but he can use them no more ; his 
 pleasures? but he can enjoy them no longe." r 
 hie honour? but it has withered on his brow i 
 his fiuthority ? but it has dropped from his 
 feeble \vo.nd. 11.^; leaves his stus, wheo they s\\\\ 
 no lonoer bC'-^^ hinj 4"omna'*">v." - ' •-' , 
 
UNGRATEFUL TO GOD AND CHRIST. 255 
 
 § 2. In neglecting early piety, you are un- 
 grateful to the Son of Cod. He humbled him- 
 self to earth, he hungered and thirsted, groan- 
 ed and wept, endured the thorns, the scfourge, 
 the cross, and even bled and died in pity to your 
 soul; and he demands no return, but what is for 
 your good as well as his glory. He demands 
 your heart, and you refuse to give it. Were not 
 they basely cruel and ungrateful to him, who 
 cried, "Not this man but Bar abbas \" who thus 
 preferred a murderer to the Lord of life; but 
 you act as guilty a part while you prefer the 
 world, that delusive destroyer, to a dying Savi- 
 our, and a gracious God ! Rather you do worse 
 than the murderers of the Lord of glory did. 
 Many of them knew not what they did, when 
 they preferred the murderer Barabbas to the 
 blessed Jesus. You are more ungrateful to 
 Christ than they ; while you profess to view him 
 as the Son of God, and Saviour of men, and yet, 
 in reality, prefer to him, not Barabbas, but sin 
 and Satan. Perhaps you say, " Surely I do not 
 act this horrid part;" but O! deceive not your 
 own heart, for in God's esteem you do, while you 
 refuse to yield your youth to Christ. Though 
 you may merely neglect his grace, yet according 
 to the Scriptures, grace neglected is grace refused ; 
 and though you may be merely careless of the 
 JiOrd Jesus, through thoughtlessness or love to 
 the world, yet it is most certain, that a Saviour 
 j^lighted is a Saviour rejected; and O dreadful ! 
 rejected for what? for vanity, folly, and plea- 
 sure ; or, in plainer words, for the service of the 
 world, and the devil. And ! rejected by whom ? 
 by one to whom Christ has an everlasting right. 
 He has such a right to you, and in denying your 
 
266 IRRELIGION, INGRATITUDE TO G0/>, 
 
 heart to him you are. not merely guilty of the most 
 base ingratitude, but of the vilest inj ustice. You 
 rob him of his right. You rob not man, but God ; 
 you rob God of his honour, and the divine Sa- 
 viour of wh it is most justly his ; God said of old 
 to Israel, " Will a man rob God ? yet ye have 
 robbed me." The language of his word is, " Ye 
 are not your own, but l30uglit with a price, there- 
 fore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, 
 which are God's." What would you think of a 
 man, that might rob an affectionate parent, to give 
 what he stole from his best friend, to a most de- 
 testable and cruel enemy of that parent and of 
 himself ? Ob, folly, madness, wickedness, mgra- 
 titude ! My young friend, is not this the part 
 you act, if you deny Jesus what is his due P and 
 give what his love claims to his greatest enemy 
 and yours ! If you refuse him your youth and 
 prime, to which he has an endless right, and give 
 that youth and prime to Satan ? Love so ama- 
 zing, so divine as Lis, demands '* your life, your 
 soul, your all ;" and shall it have no grateful re- 
 turn ? When you owe God every thing, will you 
 be so base as to give him nothing ? 
 
 § 3. In refusing your youth to God, you are 
 guilty of the greatest cruelty to yourself Bettei 
 far had it been for you never to have been bom„ 
 than to come into the world to spend a few sin- 
 ful years, and then to go and make your sad 
 abode with devils and the damned ; where the 
 worm never dieth, and the fire never shall be 
 quenched. You would think any one dreadful- 
 ly cruel to himself, who might cut and mangle 
 his own body, v\ ho might tear ofi' his own flesh, 
 who might thrust his own limbs mto the fire, and 
 keep them there, in misery till they were consum- 
 
AND CRUELTY TO THE SOUL. 267 
 
 ea. Bat which is worst, to mangle a mortal bo- 
 dy, or undo an immortal soul? to thrust a limb 
 into the fire, or to throw the soul into hell? If 
 you beheld one, that, by a fall from his horse, or 
 from a house-roof, had his limbs broken, and lay 
 writhing in agony on the grouiad, would you not 
 declare him cruel to himself, if a friend stood by 
 ready and able to cure him, and he were to re- 
 fuse the needful help? But which i-s worst, to 
 linger down to death in agony, through slight- 
 ing a surgeon's aid ; or linger a ^q\v years, a de- 
 praved, condemned, and ruined creature, and 
 then sink to endless wretchedness, through neg- 
 lecting a divine Saviovci's help? If your body 
 were in such melancholy circumstances, you 
 would welcome friendly aid, and while your soul 
 is in a state far more melancholy, I beseech 
 you, neglect not that of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 You would not be so cruel to yourself, as to 
 thrust a foot, or a hand, or even the point of a 
 finger into the tire ; O, be not so cruel to your 
 own soul, as to undo it with a sure and everlast- 
 ing destruction I Every moment that you delay to 
 turn to God, is a moment of cruelty to your soul, 
 your own, your imnaortal soul. What would 
 you think of a husbandman, who, in spring, 
 might sow his fields with poisonous weeds, and 
 say, " I'll pluck them up in winter !" Distract- 
 ed man! Where would be his harvest? In 
 winter, he should be enjoying the harvest, of 
 which the seed was sown in spring, and not then, 
 in want and misery, be tearing up the weeds that 
 had ruined his land. And will you, by neglect- 
 ing early piety, sow the seeds of sin in youth, 
 hoping to pluck up the poisonous weeds in age? 
 Perhaps that age may never come With all 
 22* 
 
268 MADNESS OF IRRELIGION. 
 
 your soul-destroying sins in their full vigour, 
 you may be snatched away to receive the judg- 
 ment of an insulted and injured God. But if 
 that age should come, it may almost be a hope- 
 less task, then to mortify those corruptions which 
 have been gaining strength through all the years 
 of life; and which have brought forth much fruit 
 unto eternal death. Cruel as the distracted hus- 
 bandman would be to himself, more cniel will 
 you be, if you spend the prime of life in storing 
 up causes for bitter repentance hereafter, and 
 thus make what should be your best years, your 
 guiltiest and your worst. Alas ! how dreadfully 
 baneful to your best interests, is carelessness 
 and irreligion on the edge of an eternal world ! 
 A drowning man will catch at a reed; a poor 
 wretch sinking into an unfathomable abyss grasp 
 a twig; but ah, miserable madness of unhappy 
 men ! though about to plunge into vast eternity, 
 they slight that helping hand which offers sure 
 deliverance. Still they go on, careless whither, 
 till death, that forceful preacher, discovers all they 
 would not learn, but which they must by sad ex- 
 perience know. O then for a reed of hope ! then 
 for a Saviour's helping hand ! then for one day 
 of offered mercy more ! Misers would give their 
 idolized wealth, monarchs their kingdoms, world- 
 lings their pleasures, for such a blessing once 
 agam. Oh, miserable folly ! to set no value now 
 on those things, for which they would, ere long, 
 think the wealth of worlds a trifling price. On 
 this side the grave, to let eternal salvation be al- 
 most the only thing they neglect, while on the 
 other, it will be the only thing that is worthy of 
 their desire. 
 
 § 4. In neglecting early piety, you are un- 
 
EXPOSTULATION WITH THE READER. 259 
 
 kind to all that wish you well. To that blessed 
 Spirit, who strives with you ; to those holy an- 
 gels, who would fain rejoice over you ; to those 
 ministers of the gospel, that labour and pray for 
 your conversion ; to those friends, if you have 
 such, that are the friends of Christ, and that wish 
 to see you such also. How much comfort you 
 deny them ! What pleasure your conversion 
 might give them ! but you refuse them this plea- 
 sure. While thus basely ungrateful to your God, 
 to the Lord Jesus, and to the Holy Spirit ; 
 while thus cruel to yourself; while thus un- 
 kind to angels, to ministers, to Christian friends; 
 whom, O young sinner! do you please? Only 
 those malignant spirits, who seek your ruin ; on- 
 ly the devil and his angels. They look on you 
 as their own. Only hell can rejoice over you, 
 while the church of Jesus mourns; and while if 
 angels could weep, they would weep for you. 
 Oh ! will you please your hellish foes, sooner than 
 your compassionate God and Saviour ! Oh ! will 
 you do that at Satan's secret bidding, which you 
 will not do at Christ's open command ! Will 
 you comply with the devil's call, and yield your 
 youth to him, while you neglect the call of God, 
 and return him nothing but neglect and sin ? 
 Oh, could you see that hateful foe, would you 
 then act this wicked part ? yet, if you will not 
 prepare to meet your God, remember you will 
 soon be given up by him into the hands of Sa- 
 tan ; then you will find that you were infinitely 
 cruel to yourself, as well as basely ungrateful to 
 God, while pleasing hell instead of heaven. 
 
 O, my young friend, would you lead a life so 
 basely wicked ? Would you have to reproach 
 yourself hereafter with choosing destruction, in 
 
:260 MOTIVES FOR EARLY PIETY, 
 
 spite of what God and man do to make you hap- 
 py? Would }oii have, at last, to lament that 
 you have rushed headlong into hell, in spite of 
 all that was done to turn your feet into the way 
 of heaven ? Prevent such sad reflections I he- 
 seech you. As ever you would find mercy at 
 the bar of God, fly to the God of mercy now. 
 Seek Jesus in these the fair days of your youth. 
 I know with many young persons, it is now an 
 easy thing to slight the friendly warning that 
 bids them follow the Saviour, and to avoid, or 
 deride the friend that gives it ; but it will be 
 dreadfully hard at last, to remember slighted 
 warnings — abused privileges — a gracious God 
 forsaken — a kind Saviour neglected — a wasted 
 youth — a heaven lost — a hell incurred — and 
 a devil pleased instead of God. One way only 
 remains for you to escape all these evils, it is, 
 to go to Christ for life. May God lead you to 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE VANITY OF YOUTH, AND THE UNCERTAINTY OF 
 LIFE, REASONS FOR THE IMMEDIATE CHOICE OF 
 EARLY PIETY. 
 
 § 1. A DIVINE writer, when urging on the 
 young attention to eternal things, employs this 
 solemn argument: "Childhood and youth are 
 vanity:" Eccles. xi. 10. And is it not so? 
 " Perhaps even now, while you hesitate, you die. 
 Perhaps the shuttle has passed the loom, that 
 wove your winding sheet. Perhaps in yonder 
 
FROM THE VANITY OF YOUTH. 2Cl 
 
 shop, lies rolled up, and ready to be severed off, 
 that piece of cloth, destined to be your shroud." 
 The admonition of the Lord is, *• Boast not thy- 
 self of to-morrow ; for thou knowest not what 
 a day may bring forth :" Prov. xxvii. 1 . What 
 is there so firm in youth, in health, or strengMi, 
 that on their continuance, you should venture the 
 salvation of an immortal soul ? On no morning 
 of the year can you positively say, that you shall 
 see the evening; on no evening can you be cer- 
 tain of beholding the approaching morning. 
 They who promise fair for most years in this 
 world, may be the very first to enter the next. 
 Possibly even by to-morrow, you may have for- 
 saken this world for ever. 
 
 § 2. Consider what others were a few seasons 
 ago, that are now fixed in the eternal world. 
 They were as young, and perhaps, alas! as 
 thoughtless and as gay as you. When you pass 
 through a burying ground, look at its graves ; 
 read the inscriptions there ; and see how many, 
 in the bloom of life, have been cut off and called 
 to meet their God. There lie the young, the 
 healthy, and the strong. There lie many whom 
 the world once charmed, and who for it slighted 
 their immortal souls. And what is the world to 
 them now ! Perhaps (>efore twelve months more 
 depart, your now youthful and healthful body 
 may be like theirs; your active limbs may be 
 mouldering into dust ; your eyes closed upon 
 the world ; and all its pleasures, will neither 
 pain nor please you in the grave. Where are 
 they now, and where must you shortly bei* They 
 a few years back, were as gay as you can be, but 
 O I all earthly things are for ever past with them. 
 You are young now, so were they then; but 
 
262 THE VANITY OF YOUTH EVINCED 
 
 youth and vigour have forsaken ihem. You are 
 heahhy now, so then were they ; though since 
 numbtired with the dead. The world then seem- 
 ed as enchanting to them, as it can do to you ; 
 they were as much set upon its dying pleasures, 
 but, they are gone; and O, what is it to their 
 poor breathless dust ! What will it soon be to 
 yours! They are mouldered back to dust. 
 Their very coffins are decayed. Their gaiety is 
 over. Their joys are past. They are gone into 
 the world of spirits. They have met their God. 
 O, what new scenes have opened upon them I 
 With what terror have they, who refused God's 
 gra-^e in this world, been dragged by hellisli 
 fiends, to everlasting burnings I Could some ot 
 these unhappy creatures now address you, did 
 not the malignity of their nature prevent them, 
 they might say, "Avoid our folly. Shun our 
 misery. Sin and the world have undone us; 
 heart-rending thought ; undone us for ever. A 
 little while back, pleasure, health, and youth, 
 were ours ! Then we were as eager in the pur- 
 suit of fancied happiness, as you can possibly 
 be. The world appeared drest in as gay colours 
 to us, as it now does to you. We trusted in our 
 youth, and looked on future years as our own, 
 which, alas ! we never lived to see. Vanity and 
 pride filled our hearts ; pleasure was our idol ; 
 and the world our delight. Alas! we lived as 
 if it were our home, and forgot that we were but 
 travellers through it, to eternal scenes. We 
 quenched the warnings of conscience ; we scorn- 
 ed the admonitions of pious friends ; and 
 thought those strangely impertinent, that re- 
 minded us of death and the grave, though, alas ! 
 we were so near to both. We deemed religion 
 
BY THE DEATH AND RUIN OF MANY. 263 
 
 a melancholy thing ; and scorned those blessings, 
 for which we should now think a thousand 
 worlds a little price. We ridiculed the folly of 
 professing to be strangers and pilgrims upon 
 earth ; and looked down, with contemptuous pi- 
 ty on those, whose chief concern on earth, was 
 safely to reach heaven. We thought our folly 
 wisdom, and their true wisdom folly. We heard 
 the tolling bell, but forgot that it vVould soon toll 
 for us. We saw the opened grave, unmindful 
 that that land of silence would quickly be our 
 long home. Trifling as you, we stopped not to 
 consider what we were, and what we soon must 
 be. But youth failed us, death arrived, and the 
 lying vanities of life fled at its touch. Then we 
 discovered our misery. Then we saw our want ; 
 but. Oh I too late. Woe is us! Our day of 
 grace is gone. The tidings of mercy are now 
 unheard by us. The blood of Jesus can never 
 cleanse us; nor the compassion of God reach us 
 now. For the vain pleasures of a moment, we 
 have ruined a whole eternity." 
 
 § 3. O my young friend ! would the tale of 
 horror, that such unhappy creatures, if permitted, 
 could relate, make you feel how vain is youth ? 
 remember, I beseech you, that it is as vain, as 
 if you could hear their doleful lamentations. 
 Millions of the young die every year. More 
 than half mankind die before they have reached 
 their twentieth year ; and what is there in you, 
 to shield you from so common a lot? are you 
 stronger, or healthier, or more sure of life, than 
 others ? Perhaps, 
 
 *' The young disease, that must subdue at length, 
 Has ' Grown with your growth, and strengthen'd with your 
 strength.' " 
 
264 LIFE UNCERTAIN TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 Or how easily may a fever seize upon you, and 
 in a few days reduce you from the highest liealth, 
 to feebleness and death ! How quickly may any 
 sudden change from heat to cold, or many other 
 causes, inflame your lungs, or some other vital 
 part, and in a few days, lodge you — where ? In 
 the eternal world. How soon may a cold turn 
 to a consumption, and before you think yourself 
 seriously ill, you may be incurably so ! How soon 
 may numerous other diseases, at God's bidding, 
 accomplish their awful errand ! You perhaps 
 now look forward to future years, which probably 
 will never be yours ; but if they should how soon 
 the years now to come, will be years departed ! 
 Others ere long will tread upon your grave, as 
 thoughtlessly as you do on theirs, who went be- 
 fore you. You live in a dying world, in a land 
 of graves. On some spot of earth or other, fresh 
 graves are ever opening. No minute passes in 
 which some do not die. While you breathe 
 some breathe their last. While you think of eter- 
 nity, others as young as you, are passing thither, 
 enraptured or dismayed. Ah, hapless state of 
 an unhappy world ! Some dying in youth, and 
 others fooling their precious youth away. Some 
 going to give up their sad account, and others 
 swelling the black list on theirs. Some neglect- 
 ing early piety, and others, too late, mourning 
 their folly in doing so. Some trifling with a 
 Saviour, and others trembling before him as their 
 Judge. How soon, if you belong to the former 
 of these classes, will time number you with the 
 latter 1 You are on the verge of eternity, and 
 some younger than you are daily dying, and en- 
 tering on its amazing scenes. O, remember that 
 youth is vanity, and life itself no belter. And 
 
REFLECTIONS ON ITS UNCERTAINTY. 265 
 
 should you continue careless of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, how bitter ere long- will be the remem- 
 brance of your wasted youth ! This one short 
 and vain life is the only season, in which you 
 may obtain peace with God, and receive the gift 
 of life eternal; and would you still throw this 
 one away ? Alas, unhappy youth ! who are so 
 truly wretched as they, who do this, excepting 
 they who have done it I Would the starving 
 beggar that has but one penny, toss that away ! 
 or the sailor that has but one way of escaping 
 shipwreck, neglect that one ! or the traveller who 
 sees but one path from a tremendous precipice, 
 slight that one I and will you waste in sinful de- 
 lays, the flower and prime of that one c^ain life, 
 in which eternal life may be sought in Christ 
 and surely found ? O ! rather unite in the 
 Psalmist's prayer, " So teach us to number our 
 days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." 
 
 § 4. Often indulge such reflections as these on 
 the passing scenes around you. 
 
 That sun is setting, and has once less to set on 
 me ; in time I may soon behold its rise, but en- 
 ter eternity before it set. This year is closing, 
 and will never more close on me ; it is finished ; 
 and has brought me so much nearer to the hour 
 when time itself shall end with me. 
 
 Do I see a leaf in summer torn from the bough, 
 on which it grew? such is my life. We all do 
 fade as a leaf. Like the leaf, when age the win- 
 ter of time comes on, it must fade ; but as a sum- 
 mer storm may tear the leaf from the tree, and 
 cast it to the ground, so disease may attack my 
 health, and lay my body among the clods of the 
 valley, and send my spirit to God who gave it. 
 O, may I flourish in faith and love, that thus 
 23 
 
266 REFLECTIONS ON LIFE'S UNCERTAINTY. 
 
 being found waiting, I may welcome tlie coming 
 of my Lord, though at the most unexpected hour. 
 
 Am I taking a journey, in a carriage going 
 rapidly along ? the trees, the hedges, the fields, 
 the houses, seem all hastily passing by me; and 
 would lead me to think, that I am sitting still to 
 observe them glide away. But, ah ! it is I who 
 move, and they are still ! Thus fast am I has- 
 tening to the end of my little journey of life, 
 thou-gh I mark not its progress, or be thought- 
 less of its close. 
 
 Do I observe a sportsman aiming at a flying 
 bird ? it has left no trace behind, and probably 
 his shot may bring it to the ground, and prevent 
 its passing through the expanse before. My past 
 years are gone as the years before the flood ; and 
 the years that are before me I may never enter. 
 Death, that surest of marksmen, may have al- 
 ready received his dread commission, to number 
 me with the dead. O, may faith and love pre- 
 pare me for eternity before I feel the awful stroke 
 of death ! Seek then, my soul ; O, seek with- 
 out delay, these precious blessings! My stay 
 here is all uncertain. My youth is vanity. My 
 days are swifter than a shuttle ; but what will be- 
 come of thee, if these fleeting days should end, 
 and thou shouldst then be found in thy ;;resent 
 state ? O, let me seek in Christ deliverance from 
 my sins. Then grace shall make even the vani- 
 ty of youth a blessing rather than an evil. 
 
 **Be wise, my soul, be timely wise. 
 Flee to the atoning sacrifice ; 
 The gospel promises embrace, 
 And trust thy all to Jesus' grace." 
 
267 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE SORROV.'S AND DANGERS THAT ATTEND THE 
 WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS, A REASON FOR THE 
 CHOICE OF EARLY RELIGION. 
 
 § 1. While the various blessings, which 
 attend a knowledge of the gospel, combine to 
 form a motive for embracing early piety, mo- 
 tives of an opposite but most weighty kind, arise 
 from the disappointments and the miseries, that 
 attend the path of transgressors. "The way of 
 transgressors is hai-d." " There is no peace to the 
 wicked ;" God to them '' distnbuteth sorrows in 
 his anger." 
 
 Were we unacquainted with any actual mise- 
 ries attendant on irreligion, yet there would be 
 enough in the divine word, to convince you that 
 it is ruinous and destructive. Depravity and 
 corruption have led you into the ways of sin ; 
 and it is blindness that keeps you contented there. 
 " The understanding of men is darkened, being 
 alienated from the life of God, through the igno- 
 rance that is in them, because of the blindness of 
 their heart." "The natural man receiveth not 
 the things of the spirit of God, for they are fool- 
 ishness unto him." " The god of this world," (or 
 Satan,) "hath blinded the minds of them which 
 believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel 
 of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine 
 into them." While in this state, you resemble 
 a blind man in the midst of treacherous enemies ; 
 he does not see them, and so he does not fear 
 them. Thus, on the edge of destruction, you 
 are unconcerned, because blind to your state; 
 
 Prov. xiii. 15. Is. Wii. 21. Joli, xxi. 17. Eph. iv. 13. 1 Cor. ii 14. 
 2 Cor. iv. 4l 
 
268 SINFUL PLEASURES UNSATISFYING. 
 
 for did you see your real stale, while uninterest- 
 ed in the Saviour, you might perceive yourself to 
 be, as it were, hanging by a single thread over 
 the mouth of hell ; devils waiting to receive you ; 
 the eternal Judge frowning upon you ; and no- 
 thing wanting to seal you up under endless des- 
 pair, but the command of God to snap the brit- 
 tle thread of life asunder. You are blinded by 
 Satan, and led captive at his will. Is not this a 
 state of wretchedness? yet this is yours ; though 
 spiritual blindness prevents your perception of it. 
 § 2. But perhaps though such is your truly 
 dismal condition, you have not felt its dan- 
 ger, nor been alarmed at its horrors. You have 
 thought, and still think, the ways of iniquity 
 pleasing. Yes, unhappy youth, in the flush of 
 health, in the moment of unbridled passion, 
 while the future is forgotten, and death and 
 judgment out of sight, the young sinner may 
 find in them a transitory though brutish plea- 
 sure. The profligate, the drunken, and the lewd 
 may be gratified for a few moments with their 
 base delights. The civiler and more moralized, 
 in the giddy ball room, or licentious theatre, or 
 when wasting invaluable time over a novel or 
 romance, may think themselves happy ; but, 
 
 " Short is the course of every lawless pleasure, 
 Grief, like a shade, on all its footsteps waits; 
 Scarce visible in joy's meridian height. 
 But downwards as the blaze decli:)ing spreads. 
 The dwarfish shadow to a giant grows." 
 
 Though sometimes the ways of irreligion may 
 yield a sliort though guilty pleasure, yet often 
 worldly delights are bitterness, in the pursuit as 
 well as in the end. They are unsatisfying. The 
 sinner pursues them for happiness ! and yet is 
 not happy. The lover of pleasure follows his 
 
WORLDLY PLEASURES HAVE A STING. 269 
 
 pleasures, yet finds little or no pleasure in them. 
 Have you never known this ? Have you never 
 by a smiling countenance, tried to hide the un- 
 easiness of your heart ? Have you never seem- 
 ed happy, in the view of others, when full of in- 
 ward misery ? Tn the vain round of amuse- 
 ments, conscience, like a still small voice with- 
 in, often tells the sinner, that the end of these 
 things is death. Conscience, with an unwelcome 
 voice, sometimes warns the deluded followers 
 of the world, that while the one thing needful is 
 neglected, they are poor in the midst of riches, 
 and on the verge of eternal misery, even in the 
 midst of worldly pleasure. Has not this sacred 
 monitor thus at times followed you, and made 
 you uneasy even in spite of yourself? Has it 
 not even at the playhouse, the card table, or the 
 dance, told you that death, judgment, and hell, 
 were at hand ? The careless sinner, who seems 
 so cheerful, who laughs so loud, who appears so 
 merry, through these inward stings, often feels, 
 in the midst of all his delight, a load of remorse 
 and wretchedness. The anecdote of Colonel 
 Gardiner, mentioned Page 204, is a well known 
 illustration of this remark. 
 
 A young friend of the writer, who had long tri- 
 fled with religion, thus to a near relative express- 
 ed her feelings: "The wicked are like a troubled 
 sea, they cannot rest ; and do I not daily experi- 
 ence the truth of this assertion ? If my present 
 course yielded me any real pleasure, then my 
 folly might be in some measure excusable, but it 
 yields none ; for the threatenings of God's word, 
 the affectionate warnings of my parents, and the 
 stings of my own conscience, continually conspire 
 to blunt the edge of worldly enjoyment, and leave 
 23* 
 
270 SIN RUINOUS — PRODlGALl-n*. 
 
 me indeed a miserable creature. Reflection I 
 cannot bear. Oh, no I for then indeed I {eel 
 the agonies of a guilty and accusino: conscience. 
 I know, I feel that I shall never have a peaceful 
 mind, never taste real bliss, till I from the heart 
 give up the world, till I from the heart embrace 
 real religion. I have drunk of the cup of worldly 
 pleasure, and for its amusements slighted my Sa- 
 viour and neglected my own soul. And what 
 have T gained? Nothing — but I have drawn 
 sighs from the hearts, and tears from the eyes, ot 
 those whom it ought to be my study to render 
 happy ; offended God ; done despite to the Spi- 
 rit of his grace ; trampled on the blood of the Sa- 
 viour ; and undone my soul ! — And with a con- 
 sciousness of this, can I ever be happy ? No -— 
 I know by experience that the way of transgres- 
 sors is hard." My youthful reader, have.not you 
 felt something of what is here described ? Per- 
 haps you have felt it all. 
 
 Were no more wretchedness than this to at- 
 tend the way of transgressors, if you have any 
 pity on your own soul, your language should be, 
 " liCt me devote myself to God, and seek in him 
 those true delights, which the ungodly nevei 
 knew !" But what has been mentioned forms 
 only a small part of the sorrows, attendant on 
 a life of sin. Not merely does sin bring de- 
 struction in the next world, but its frequent 
 fruits are wretchedness and ruin in this 
 
 Behold the prodigal: (Luke, 15.) He thinks 
 himself happy. In jollity and merriment he 
 squanders his possessions away; but see him 
 soon, he is sunk in the lowest depths of wretch- 
 edness. Where are his pleasures? his compan- 
 ion!? his gay-spent days and festive nights? 
 
SABBATH-BREAKING. 271 
 
 They are g^one. He feeds the swine, and longs 
 to satisfy his hung-er, even with the husks on 
 which they live. How many have been reduced 
 to misery as great as this, who but for a youth of 
 sins, might have passed through life in comfort! 
 Sabbath-breaking has been mentioned as one 
 of the most common sins of youth, and how sad 
 are its fruits ! It often takes the lead in a legion 
 of crimes. The sabbath-breaker is not long 
 merely a sabbath-breaker. The writer of these 
 pages once attended a criminal, who suffered 
 death for murder, and he spoke of sabbath-break- 
 ing as a sin that led him to others ! perhaps few 
 criminals have reached the gallows, who had not 
 to ascribe their destruction in a great measure to 
 this crime. Many have expressly mentioned 
 this as the source of their guilt and misery. In 
 1816 five men suffered on the gallows, at the 
 same time, in the Isle of Ely, one or two of 
 whom had been in a decent situation, and who 
 all bore this sad testimony to the effects of sab- 
 bath-breaking. "We most sincerely warn you all 
 to avoid those sins, v/hich hp'Je been the means of 
 bringing us here. By all means avoid irreligion 
 and vice of all kinds; particularly swearing, 
 drunkenness, and sabbath-breaking." One of 
 them declared that drunkenness, Vhoredom, and 
 sabbath-breaking, had brought them all to their 
 untimely end. The awful judgments of God 
 on sabbath-breakers, have also proved their way 
 a way of sorrows. Many have gone out in the 
 morning, on sabbalh-breaking parties of plea- 
 sure, who, ere the evening came, were cut off by 
 a sudden and unexpected doom ; and sent all 
 unprepared into the eternal world. Not long 
 back two parties containing eleven or twelve per- 
 
272 SIN RUINOUS — DRUNKENNESS. 
 
 sons perished duvinor one sabbath-day, in the ri- 
 ver Thames. Could some of these unhappy 
 creatures now address you, they might say, " For- 
 sake your destructive pleasures ; cease your sab- 
 bath-breaking parties, lest our doom be shortly 
 yours. Alas ! our broken sabbaths, are our mise- 
 ry now. Had we improved them, how different 
 had our stale now been. Learn wisdom from 
 our folly. Your sabbaths are not all gone, but 
 ours are, and we would give the world to have 
 spent them in the ways of God. Alas I we pro- 
 faned them ; and God was angry with us, and 
 snatched us from the world where mercy may be 
 found, and fixed us in that sad abode, where no 
 sabbath ever shines." 
 
 Drunkenness leads to temporal and eternal 
 destruction ; it entails disease on the body ; beg 
 gary on the estate; and damnation on the soul. 
 "Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath 
 contentions ? who hath wounds without cause ? 
 who hath redness of eyes ? They that tarry long 
 at the wine. Look not thou upon the wine when 
 it is red, when it gWeth its colour in the cup. 
 At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth 
 like an adder. Woe unto them that rise up early 
 in the morning, that they may follow strong 
 drink; that continue until night, till wine in- 
 flame them ! Woe unto them that are mighty 
 to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle 
 strong drink! Drunkards shall not inherit the. 
 kingdom of God." 
 
 The guilty indulgence of loose and wanton de- 
 sires, though so awfully prevalent, entails on 
 multitudes of young transgressors, years of mi- 
 sery and early death. " There is a chaste affec- 
 
 ProT. xjtiii. 29 — 32. Isa.v. 11, &e. 1 Cor. vi. 10. 
 
WANTONNESS, &C. 273 
 
 tion, which fixing on a single object, and opera- 
 ting under the guidance of discretion, produces 
 the most generous sentiments in the heart, and 
 the most tender endearments in domestic life. 
 Such a passion, by forming an attachment at 
 once the most faithful, delicate, and lasting, has 
 often a happy influence over the whole course of 
 our following years. But lust is an unhallowed 
 fire, which burns only to destroy health, honour, 
 and peace.'** "For the lips of a strange woman 
 drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smooth- 
 er than oil : But her end is bitter as wormwood, 
 sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down 
 to death ; her steps take hold on hell. I beheld 
 among the simple ones, a young man void of un- 
 derstanding, and he went the way to her house; 
 in the twilight, in the evening, in the black and 
 dark night: And, behold there mat him a wo- 
 man, with the attire of an harlot, and subtle of 
 heart. With much fair speech she caused him 
 to yield. But he knoweth not that the dead are 
 there; and that her guests are in the depths of 
 hell. He goeth after her straightway, as a bird 
 hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is 
 for his life. Remove thy way from her, and come 
 not nigh the door of her house ; lest thou give 
 thine honour unto others, and thy years unto the 
 cruel : And thou mourn at the last, when thy 
 flesh and thy body are consumed. Let not thine 
 heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her 
 paths; For many strong men have been slain by 
 her. Her house is the way to hell." Picture to 
 yourself a young man, the slave of this destruc- 
 tive sin. He might have enjoyed health and vi- 
 gour ; have been a comfort to others, and a bless- 
 
 • Thornton. ProT. v. 3. vii. 7. ix. 18. Tii.22. t. 8, ie. 
 
274 MISERIES OF THE WAY 
 
 ing to himself: but his crimes hare rained his 
 health ; disease sends him to an early tomb ; 
 and his murdered soul goes hence, laden with the 
 guilt of that crime, of which the Most High has 
 solemnly said, " They that do such things shall 
 not inherit the kingdom of God. For this ye 
 know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, 
 nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any 
 inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. 
 Let no man deceive yoa with vain words : for be- 
 cause of these things cometh the wrath of God 
 upon the children of disobedience." 
 
 Does a young woman give way to the sedu- 
 cer, alas 1 she finds the way of transgressors hard 
 indeed. Reproaches of conscience, loss of char- 
 acter, with the other bitter fruits of this crime, 
 become her sad portion. Perhaps she goes on- 
 ward in sin, and ends in prostitution ; then has 
 she peace? Ah no I she has become in reality, the 
 off-scouring of all things. How different is such 
 a one from what she might have been '. and from 
 what others are, who have made God the guide 
 of their youth. They the ornaments and com- 
 forts of the families to which they belong ; but 
 she, ah I what is she? "An abandoned prosti- 
 lute I lost to all sense of shame, and to every 
 right feeling 1 she lives only to propogate dis- 
 ease, and wicked -s, and misery, and death, 
 and damnation, to all who come within the 
 reach of her pestilential breath I She becomes 
 - -ne of the grand agents of hell, in the accomp- 
 lishment of these inftrnal works."* How deep 
 is now her wretchedness ! A minister* who was 
 called by his situation to address some hundreds 
 of these poor creatures in a year, for several years 
 
 Lvhts. T. ^ • Scbtt's Sermon on LicenUoosness, p. 21, 22. 
 
OF TRANSGRESSORS. 275 
 
 together, made this statement " Let them be 
 hardened and callous to what other subject they 
 may, there is one on which they all feel, and feel 
 acutely. Speak to them of the extreme misery 
 to which they have reduced themselves, and you 
 touch a string which vibrates from heart to heart 
 through the whole company : they are all melt- 
 ed into tears." 
 
 Connected with these crimes, dishonesty oft- 
 en takes its dreadful place. Parents are robbed 
 by ungodly children. Masters are plundered by 
 those they employ. But bitter are the fruits of 
 this disgraceful sin ! bitter for time, as well as 
 eternity. Fear of detection, distrust, discredit, 
 and in the end, the prison, transportation, or the 
 gallows, are the frequent termination of those 
 dishonest courses, to which profligacy and lewd- 
 ness lead. 
 
 O, could those who have tried to the utmost, 
 what delights transgression yields, address you, 
 they would assure you, that the ways of irreli- 
 gion are full of sorrows. Behold in your imag- 
 ination, the sabbath-breaker, that went out on a 
 party of pleasure, brought home, as hundreds 
 have been, a ghastly corpse. See the drunken 
 and the lewd, wallowing for a few short years, in 
 the m.ire of sensuality ; then view them putrefy- 
 ing with disease ; then see the close of all ; view 
 them expiring, filled with consternation and hor- 
 ror, perhaps blaspheming God and dying : dy- 
 ing miserably as that wretched atheist, who, 
 when told that nothing could be done for him, 
 and that he must die I clenched his fists, gnashed 
 his teeth, and said with the utmost fury, " God, 
 God, I won't die !" and immediately expired. 
 See this, and then say, Are these the wavs of 
 
276 DECEITFDLNESS OF SIN. 
 
 pleasantness ? Is this the path of peace ? Not 
 not unless damnation is pleasant, and hell the 
 abode of peace. All who have tried the paths of 
 sin have found them hard. Even devils could 
 assure you of this. When was it that they knew 
 happiness? It was before they sinned. 
 
 § 4. Neglect of religion is an inexpressibly 
 dangerous evil. Perhaps you look with horror 
 on some of the sins already mentioned, yet you 
 cannot, while you live without God, say. Thus 
 far will I go in sin, and no further. You can- 
 not, when you please, calm the tempest of unru- 
 ly passions, by saying, Peace, be still. Few are 
 hardened in iniquity, and sealed for perdition at 
 once. The way of sin is a progressive way. Lit- 
 tle did Hazael think, when he conversed with Eli- 
 sha, that he should afterwards murder his mas- 
 ter, and become the monster he became. liittle 
 did David, when he first turned his eyes on Bath- 
 sheba, suppose that he should soon plunge deep 
 in base adultery, and atrocious murder. Little 
 did Peter think, when he first denied his Lord, 
 that to that falsehood, perjury and profaneness 
 would so quickly be added. Little did the youth, 
 who dies the victim of youthful lusts, imagine, 
 that the first wanton thought he indulged, was 
 the forerunner of all his guilt and misery. Lit- 
 tle did the thoughtless girl, who ends her life a 
 prostitute, think, that when indulging a vain 
 pride in dress and show, she was paving the way 
 for all her future guilt and wretchedness; but, 
 " The way of the wicked seduceth them.'* 
 
 § 5. Perhaps you are clear of all these open 
 crimes ; perhaps you may continue so ; you may 
 be amiable and moral, but still you are a sinner; 
 
 ProT. xll. aC 
 
ITS HARDENING NATURE. 277 
 
 and it is inexpressibly dreadful to delay tuminpj 
 lo God. Little did thousands, once like you, ima- 
 gine where the ways of irreligion end. It is dan- 
 gerous to trifle with God. The Spirit has be- 
 gun to strive with you, but you know not how 
 roon he may have done. You may quench 
 grace, but cannot kindle it. These three kinds 
 of persons are seldom brought to heaven. Those 
 who long persist in sin ; those who long enjoy 
 the means of grace in vain; and those who fall 
 from God. Perhaps because you imagine there 
 is nothing flagrant in your pleasures you think 
 them innocent delights. But are they such in 
 the sight of God ? Are they such, while they 
 sieal your heart from him ? Are they such as 
 will give you pleasure at last? 
 
 Not merely are the ways of irreligion inex- 
 pressibly dangerous, but all their delights so 
 transient, that it is distraction to neglect eternal 
 life for them. They pass away like an arrow, 
 and end in the most bilter despair. O, leave the 
 world, before the world leaves you ! O look to 
 Jesus, cefore he says, "I never knew you, depart 
 from me!" 
 
 § 6. "A death-bed, is a detector of the heart;" 
 it proves that the ways of sin are ways of sor- 
 row. What are worldly pleasures then ? What 
 comfort can tLr-y give ? It is said that Mr. Her- 
 vey, was once travelling with a lady, who expati- 
 ated largely on the pleasures of the play-house. 
 She mentioned the pleasure of thinking before- 
 hand of the play, the pleasure of seeing it, and 
 the pleasure of recollecting it afterwards. Mr. 
 H. mildly observed, that there was one pleasure 
 which she had not mentioned. She inquired what 
 that was ; and he replied, the pleasure of recoUect- 
 24 
 
273 MlSEIlir^S OF THC UNGOniT 
 
 inp: it "pon lier death-bed. She felt the remark^ 
 and is said to have sought better pleasures. 
 The miseries that await those who are strang^ers 
 to humble ])iety have been awfully displayed in 
 the dyinfi^ hours of multitudes who had slif,d)ted 
 thai one thinj^ needful. 
 
 The author of the "Night Thoughts," de- 
 scribing the last hours of one who was once es- 
 teemed a man of pleasure, states, 
 
 " Refusing to hear any thing from me, he lay 
 silent, as far as sudden darts of pain would per- 
 mit, till the clock struck. Then with vehemence 
 exclaimed, ' O time, time! it is fit thou shouldst 
 thus strike thy murderer to the heart. How art 
 thou fled for ever ! — A month ! O for a single 
 week ! I ask not for years ; though an age were 
 too little for the much I have to do.' 
 
 " On my saying, we could not do too much : 
 that heaven was a blessed place — * So mucj) the 
 worse. 'Tis lost! 'tis lost — Heaven is to me 
 the severest part of hell !' Soon after I propo- 
 sed prayer. 'Pray you that can. I never pray> 
 ed. I cannot pray — nor need I. Is not hea- 
 ven on my side already ? It closes with my 
 conscience. Its severest strokes but second my 
 own.' To a friend he said, 
 
 "'Remorse for the past, thro vs ray thoughts 
 on the future. Worse dread of the future strikes 
 them back on the past. I turn, and turn, and 
 find no ray. Didst thou feel hall'the mountain 
 that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the 
 martyr for his stake, and bless beaven for the 
 flames ; — that is not an everlastir g flame ; that 
 is not an unquenchable fire.' He afterwards ex- 
 claimed, ' O ! thou blasphemer' yet most indul- 
 
IN THE DAY OF DEATH. 279 
 
 pent Lord God ! Hell itself is a refuge, if it 
 hides me from thy frown.'" 
 
 It is related that the honourable Francis New- 
 port, was favoured with a religious education, 
 afterwards became altogether careless of religion, 
 and died in the following awful manner. 
 
 At one time, looking towards the fire, he said, 
 "Oh ! that I were to lie and broil upon that fire 
 for a hundred thousand years, to purchase the 
 favour of God, and be reconciled to him again ! 
 But it is a fruitless vain wish ; millions of mil- 
 lions of years will bring me no nearer the end of 
 my tortures, than one poor hour. O eternity ! 
 eternity ! who can properly paraphrase upon the 
 words — for ever and ever!" 
 
 "In this kind of strain he went on, till his dis- 
 solution approached ; when with a groan so 
 dreadful and loud, as if it had not been human, 
 he cried out, "Oh! the insufferable pangs of 
 death and damnation !'' and so died ; death set- 
 tling the visage of his face in such a form, as if 
 the body, though dead, was sensible of the ex- 
 tremity of torments." 
 
 Another person, who was a gay and thought- 
 less lover of the world, uttered the following, 
 among other expressions, in his dying hours. 
 
 " O ! that I had been wise, that I had known 
 this, that I had considered my latter end. Death 
 is knocking at my doors : in a few hours more 
 I shall draw my last gasp; and then judgment, 
 the tremendous judgment! How shall I appear, 
 unprepared as I am, before the all-knowing and 
 omnipotent God ! How shall I endure the day 
 of his coming! O! that holiness is the only 
 thing I now long for. I would gladly part with 
 all my estate large as it is, or a world to obtain it. 
 
280 MISERIES OF THE UNGODLY 
 
 Now my benighted eyes are enlightened. What 
 is there in the place whither I am going but 
 God ? Or what is there to be desired on earth 
 but religion ? The day in which I should have 
 worked is over and gone, and I see a sad horrible 
 night approaching, bringing with it the blackness 
 of darkness for ever. Heretofore, woe is me ! 
 when God called, I refused ; when he invited, I 
 was one of them that made excuse. Now, I re- 
 ceive the reward of my deeds ; Tearfulness and 
 trembling are come upon me ; and yet this is 
 but the beginning of sorrows! It doth not yet 
 appear what I shall be ; but sure I shall be ru- 
 ined, undone, and destroyed with an everlasting 
 destruction!" 
 
 A young woman who had lived negligent of 
 the great salvation, not long before she died, 
 burst into tears, and said, " O, that I had repent- 
 ed, when the Spirit of God was striving with me ! 
 but now I am undone." She afterwards ex- 
 claimed, " O, how have I been deceived ! When 
 I was in health, I delayed repentance from time 
 to time. O, that I had my time to live over 
 again ! O, that I had obeyed the gospel ! but 
 now I must burn in hell for ever. Oh ! I can- 
 not bear it. I cannot bear it." Not long before 
 she died, she said, " Eternity, Eternity. Oh, to 
 burn throughout eternity !" 
 
 Perhaps you think such cases, though dread- 
 ful, not frequent ; but, it is to be feared, they are 
 by no means rare. Within a few days, several 
 awful instances, of the danger and misery of an 
 irreligious slate have been mentioned to the 
 writer. One unhappy creature in his dying 
 hours, among a number of dismal expressions, 
 used such as the following : "Oh, that hell ! Why 
 
IN THE DAY OF DEATH. 281 
 
 must I leave this earth ! O, that hell !" A far- 
 mer, filled with enmity against real religion, went 
 from his house into an adjacent field, uttering a 
 wish that he might never enter the kingdom of 
 heaven, if he did not ruin a pious neighbour 
 whom he disliked ; and scarcely had he reached 
 the bottom of the field, before he dropped, and 
 died. Another, who was a Socinian in princi- 
 ple, and in practice profane and worldly, had, by 
 an apoplectic fit, been warned to prepare for 
 meeting his God ; but he would not listen to the 
 warning; his health returned ; he loved the 
 world ; he put far oflf the thoughts of death, and 
 often talked of living to his hundredth year. 
 One afternoon, it was stated he expressed his ex- 
 pectation of this to a person, in a neighbouring 
 village: Ah, sad presumption on to-morrow! 
 that very evening, he was seized by another fit, 
 and hurried all unprepared, as it is to be feared 
 he was, to the bar of his Judge. 
 
 A young woman who had occasionally attend- 
 ed the writer's ministry, though, alas! in vain, 
 was laid upon the bed of death. In that solemn 
 situation, her lamentations and bitter grief, were 
 most affecting. She confessed that she had neg- 
 lected the great salvation. " Oh !" she exclaimed, 
 "Oh, my hard heart! I find no softness in it. 
 It will jiot relent. Is there no forgiveness for 
 me? Am I not to be saved. Lord?" Her most 
 frequent cry was, "Lord, break my hard heart!" 
 In a few hours after this, she died. 
 
 A sick man whom the writer visited, who once 
 had pious impressions, but did not yield to them, 
 observed, "I would give ten thousand worlds to 
 be pardoned." The language of another suffer- 
 er, often seen by the writer, was deeply affect- 
 24* "^ ^^ 
 
282 DEATH TERRIBLE 
 
 ins:. "I know I am not forgiven. Oh! it i« 
 dreadful to die! Oh, millions and millions of 
 years — it is dreadful! O that T could live till 
 I am forjjiven ! It is too late now ! It is all over ! 
 O that I had come to Christ sincerely !" When 
 spoken to of the Saviour's mercy, she answered, 
 "That is what makes it so bad, to sin against so 
 great a Saviour." Alarmed with the prospect of 
 eternal ruin, she said, "Nothing in this world is 
 to be compared with it. The Lord ivill not be 
 played ivith too often." 
 
 Another young woman who had attended the 
 writer's ministry, but who continued a careless 
 worldly girl, was hurried, by a sudden disease, 
 into the eternal world. It was stated that not 
 many hours before her death, she warned her 
 sister, not to walk in the ways m which she had 
 walked, declaring that they led to hell, and that 
 she was going thither. 
 
 Is such the conclusion of a life of sin ? Are 
 such the consequences of making light of Christ? 
 O, then, as you would avoid the awful end of 
 transgressors, forsake their destructive path ! If 
 you continue in it, your own departure from the 
 world, may hereafter resemble theirs, whose un- 
 happy end has been now described. Bitter 
 would it then be for you, to think of those sins, 
 and of that neglect by which the soul is undone. 
 Alas I what madness is it to choose damnation, 
 if you may but go, what is to corrupt nature, a 
 pleasant way to hell. 
 
 Listen not to the voice of seducers who would 
 lead you to ruin. They promise you liberty, but 
 are themselves the slaves of sin. Tlieir artifices 
 to lead you into sin or to keep you in your pre- 
 sent state, are stratagems of Satan to ingulf you 
 
TO THE UNGODLY. 283 
 
 in eternal misery. When the insidious but smi- 
 ling* seducer would tempt you astray, think with 
 yourself", " Can I bear my Creator's anger ? Can 
 I endure my Judge's frown? Can I dwell with 
 everlasting burnings? Shall I neglect eternal 
 life, and choose eternal death, for things that 
 perish in the using ?" — May God forbid. Amen, 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE TERRORS, AND FEARFUL CONSEQUENCES OF 
 DEATH AND JUDGMENT, TO THE UNCONVERTED, 
 A REASON FOR EARLY PIETY. 
 
 § 1. Has what I have already urged on your 
 attention produced, under God, the desired ef- 
 fect ? wr has all been urged in vain ? if it have, 
 let me, before I leave you for ever, entreat you to 
 consider those awful scenes, to which you are 
 hastening so fast. 
 
 Should you love the world ever so well, should 
 you enjoy it ever so much, and even live in it 
 through the longest terra allowed to man, yet 
 short is the longest, and when past, a nothing. 
 You must die. How thoughtless soever you 
 may be of death and eternity, they are nearer to 
 you every hour, and you, even you must die. 
 If you continue to live without God, you must 
 die without him. Imagine yourself leaving the 
 world in that awful state. You must leave it thus, 
 unless you repent and remember your Creator. 
 Imagine your last day arrived. This scene of 
 vanity is ending. The world you loved is leav- 
 ing you for ever. Behind you is a wasted and 
 sin-spent life. Before you is the grave, judg- 
 
284 DEATH OF THE UNGODLY, 
 
 ment, and eternity. Your day of ^race is finish- 
 ed. Your soul, loaded with innumerable sins, 
 is g'oino- to meet that God, to whom all your se- 
 cret guilt has been revealed. Where can you 
 look for refuge? j\Ian cannot help you, and you 
 have every r^^ason to believe that God will not. 
 Now sins forgotten come to mind again. Now 
 guilty pleasures stare you in the face; but all 
 their ch.irms are gone. Now fears and terrors 
 crowd upon your soul ; and devils seem to beck- 
 on you away. All is darkness and misery be- 
 fore ; all guilt and folly behind. O fearful state ! 
 O fearful end of an ungodly life! You must 
 plunge into eternity; and justly dread the aw- 
 ful change. No friend can go with you ; you 
 must die alone, and go alone to meet your God. 
 All else is forsaking you ; and he who woukl ne- 
 ver have forsaken you, he who would have been 
 your friend for ever, even he will refuse to re- 
 ceive you. How you would dread to be carried 
 to sea alone on a single plank ; or to be tossed 
 alone upon some unknown shore, where you knew 
 none, and none knew you ! But what is this to 
 passing into another world, where all is strange 
 and new; a world so different from this poor 
 transient state, that all is awful, and all eternal 
 there ! Yet thither you must go. The hour, the 
 dreadful hour arrives. Your last moment comes, 
 you die ; and ah ! the agonies of death are suc- 
 ceeded by the fiercer torments of damnation and 
 despair. No kind angels welcome your depart- 
 ing spirit. No gentle messengers appear to con- 
 vey it to eternal rest. O doleful state ! if this 
 were the worst; but far worse than this remains 
 untold. Your sweet season of mercj'' is gone ; 
 and in vain you wish for mercy and for time 
 
AND DREADFUL ENTRANCE ON ETERNITY. 285 
 
 a^ain. Weepinix friends commit your body to 
 the grave ; friends who little imagine where the 
 wretched soul is fixed. There must the body lie, 
 till it rise to the resurrection of damnation. 
 Your soul is conveyed to the infernal prison ; 
 there to await its final and still more dreadful 
 doom, at that day when the soul and body, that 
 were partners in sin, shall be partners in misery. 
 § 2. Oh, how dreadful a change is this! Oh, 
 when they, who trifle with salvation, have breath- 
 ed their last, how may they shrink back from the 
 scene which opens before them ! how may their 
 terrified souls wish to creep into their dead bo- 
 dies ag-ain ! but wish in vain. Oh, what terrible 
 dismay must seize upon them, when that eternal 
 world which they neglected, all at once appears 
 before them! When the majesty and glory of 
 that God, whose threatenings and invitations they 
 equally disregarded, burst upon them ! and no 
 place to hide their affrighted souls ; no way to 
 escape the terrifying sight. Now indeed they 
 find it a fearful thing, to fall into the hands of 
 the living God, whose mercy is changed to ven- 
 geance. Oh, miserable immortals ! how terril)le 
 are their feelings, while they stand trembling 
 and despairing, before the great and dreadful 
 God, and see him who is love itself to his chil- 
 dren, arrayed in vengeance and terror against 
 them ! O, could they shrink back for one year 
 more to life ! What worlds, if they had them, 
 would they give to gain this boon. O, could 
 khey have but one month's mercy more, or could 
 they die a second time and never live again. Oh, 
 how distressing, beyond the impassable gulf, to 
 see the blessed heaven but themselves shut out. 
 (Luke, xvi. 26.) To see those glorious and hap- 
 
286 THE YOUNG SLNNER REMINDED 
 
 py saints and angels, that mi{^ht have been their 
 companions for ever, but now not one friend 
 anjong- them. To see what they might have en- 
 joyed, and what their sin and neglect of Christ 
 have lost. And Oh, though heaven is shut against 
 them, hell is open to receive them; that is the re- 
 gion, which they must take instead of heaven ; 
 that seat of horrors; that mournful gloom; that 
 outer darkness; that wretched abode of everlast- 
 ing fire, and ever-tormenting fiends. Oh, dread- 
 ful hour, when they enter that flaming prison, 
 yet there they must await eternal judgment. 
 
 § 3. Ah my young friend, remember that ilie 
 hour, the now forgotten, but, if you live in your 
 sins, the terrible hour of eternal judgment will 
 arrive. You may forget it now, but will be una- 
 ble to forget it then. You possibly laugh at the 
 expectation of it, but will then find it dreadfully 
 serious, to see and feel its terrors. You, even you, 
 •must hear the archangel's trumpet. You must 
 behold the descending Judge, and the burning 
 world. Willing or unwilling, ready or unready, 
 there you must appear. There will be no shrink- 
 ing from trial ; no escaping the notice of the 
 Judge; no lingering longer in the grave. Ap- 
 pear you must, for, "the I^ord Jesus shall be re- 
 vealed from heaven with his mighty angels, in 
 flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that 
 know not God, and that obey not ♦he gospel of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ : Who shall be punish- 
 ed with everlasting destruction from the presence " 
 of the Lord, and from the glory of his power. 
 God will" render unto every man according to his 
 deeds. Unto ihem that are contentious, and do 
 not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, in- 
 
 2Tlie3S. i.7 — a 
 
OF ETERNAL JUDGMENT. 287 
 
 ^dignalior-. and -vvrath, tribulation and ang-uish. 
 upon every soul of man that doeth evil, llejoice. 
 O yount^ man, in thy youth, and let thy heart 
 cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk 
 m the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine 
 eyes ; but know thou, that for all these things 
 God will bring- thee into judgment. And who- 
 soever was not found written in the book of life 
 was cast into the lake of fire." Do you believe 
 that such a day will come, and can you forget 
 it^ forget that day, that joyful, or that dreadful 
 day, which will come as surely as the sun shines 
 in the heavens ; forget that awful day, when you, 
 without any fear or hope of change, must be- 
 come like the angels of heaven, or ihe fiends of 
 iiell. O, will you forget it ? If you were going 
 on trial for your life, before an earthly judge, 
 liow anxious would you be to procure an acquit- 
 tal ; and when you have to go before an infinite- 
 ly higher Judge, whose decision will be life or 
 death eternal, will you be so distracted as to re- 
 main unconcerned ? 
 
 § 4. There you must account for the deeds 
 done in the body. Then your actions must be 
 tried ; your words examined ; then the black ag- 
 gravations of your crimes will fully appear. O 
 sinner, then it will be known, how you broke 
 through the checks of conscience; and the re- 
 straints of religion; how you were warned of 
 your danger, and exhorted to repent, but still, 
 obstinately impenitent, went forward to destruc- 
 tion. Or if your heart has, at times, been seri- 
 ously impressed, and yet in vain, it will then be 
 seen, as one of the aggravations of your sins, 
 
 Rom. ii. 0. 8. 0. Eccles. xi. 9. Rev. xx. 15. Rorn. xiv. 12. 
 2 Cor. V. 10. Matt. xii. 30. 
 
288 GOD WILL BRING YOUNG 
 
 that you felt the power of divine truth, and yet 
 went on to sin again. The sermons of ministers, 
 the admonitions of friends, and the warnings of 
 the Bible, will all be remembered in judgment, 
 and produced, to show how much greater is your 
 guilt, than theirs, who lived in heathen lands, and 
 heard no tidings of salvation. Then too it will 
 be known what poor trifles, what base delights, 
 you preferred to the love of God and the joys 
 of heaven. O, think not to escape ! God will 
 bring thee into judgment. Though thou shouldst 
 be hardened in life, and even deluded in death, 
 yet when thou hast had thy day of sin, God will 
 have his day of vengeance; and when thou hast 
 had the pleasure, thou must have the pain. 
 Think not that you have done with the sinful 
 pleasures and follies of past years. You have 
 not done with them yet ; the delight is gone, but 
 the sad account remains behind. You perhaps 
 call your youthful sins, frolics, or innocent sports, 
 or foibles at the worst, but if you are thus deceiv- 
 ed, God is not. Your slights of religion ; — your 
 neglect of his service, and his ways; — your 
 broken sabbaths; — your wasted days; — your 
 pride ; — your vanity ; must all be answered for 
 en that tremendous day. 
 
 § 5. Know, O young man, if you are a follow- 
 er of the world, you must then receive Ce re- 
 ward of all your sinful actions; your riotings 
 and revellings, your drunkenness and debauch- 
 eries, your hardening others in sin, your wanton 
 songs, your profane words, shall all come to light, 
 and insure your damnation. Though you may 
 ' be a wanton profligate, or even a scoffing infidel, 
 yet God will bring you into judgment ; and in- 
 fidel as you may be, will make you tremble be- 
 
6INNER3 INTO JUDGMENT 289 
 
 fore that bar, which is tlie object of your contempt 
 and ridicule now. Or if you are all that is mo- 
 ral and amiable in the sight of men, yet if desti- 
 tute of saving- grace, God will see in you ten 
 thousand unforgiven sins, for which he will con- 
 demn you then. Know, O young woman ! that 
 God will then bring you also into judgment. 
 Your sabbaths wasted in indolence or triHing; 
 merriment — your time squandered on poison- 
 ous novels — your heart wrapped up in dress and 
 gaiety, while God and religion are shut out of it 
 
 — your glass consulted, while tlie Redeemer is 
 neglected — your fondness for worldly delights 
 
 — your forgetfulness of your poor immortal soul 
 
 — all these sins and many more, are crying to 
 heaven against you, and not one, in that awful 
 day, will be forgotten. Perhaps all who wish 
 you well for ever, strive in vain to impress 
 your heart ; but God will make you listen, God 
 will bring you into judgment. Vain will be the 
 pleas and excuses that now deceive yourself and 
 others. The Judge will pronounce the dread- 
 ful sentence ; he will say, " Depart from me, ye 
 cursed, mto everlasting tire, prepared for the de- 
 vil and his angels," and depart you must. Oh. 
 dreadful sentence ! to depart from Christ, the on- 
 ly source of happiness — to depart from him ac- 
 cursed, laden with the heavy curse and wrath of 
 God, never to be removed — to depart from him, 
 accursed, into everlasting fire, and that the fire, 
 which was prepared for the devil and his angels ! 
 
 § 6. O stop, my young reader ! while this sen- 
 tence sounds in your ears; stop, and consider 
 your ways. Can you bear to have it, with all its 
 horrors, pronounced upon you ? If not, O, turn 
 to God.^ Consider, that if you harden your heart 
 
290 FINAL DOOM OF THE UNGODLY. 
 
 acrainst this friendly call, that time is comin;^ 
 ^vhen you must remember it. In the latter days, 
 says God, ye shall consider it perfectly. God will 
 then remember the sins and ingratitude of your 
 youth. At that last day you may call for mer- 
 oy, and God refuse to listen, as he now calls on 
 you to turn to Chris<^, and you refuse to heark- 
 en. His word says, "Because I have called, and 
 ye refused ; I have stretched out mine hand, and 
 no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all 
 my counsel, and would none of my reproof; 1 
 also will laugh at your calamity, I will mock when 
 your fear cometli. Then shall they call upon 
 me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me 
 early, but they shall not find me. They would 
 none of my counsel; they despised all tlv re- 
 proof; Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of 
 their own v>'ay, and be filled with their own de- 
 vices." Then, when all his terrors are set in ar- 
 ray ago.inst you, how will you answer him ? You 
 cannot say you were not called to serve him, for 
 the lines you are reading would witness against 
 you. You cannot say you were too young, and 
 expected longer time, for he has taught you that 
 the youngest are not too young to die, and that 
 those who seek him early shall find him. Alas, 
 what will you then think of this warning ! how 
 tremble before your Maker for the sins of your 
 youth. The Lord Jesus Christ will remember 
 your ingratitude and wickedness ; and when they 
 who sought and found him betimes, have entered 
 his eternal rest, while he crowns them with his 
 everlasting love, you, a poor trembling, unforgiven 
 creature, may knock at the door of mercy, then 
 for ever shut. You may join your voice witn 
 
 Jer. sxiii. 20. Prov. i. 24 — 31. 
 
THCIR HOPELESS STATE AND LATE REGRET. 291 
 
 that of foolish millions, in the dismal cry, "Lord, 
 Lord, open unto us ! Leave us not in endless woe, 
 and infinite despair. Leave us not the prey of 
 devils, and the scorn of hell. Leave us not with- 
 out one glimmering beam of hope, through u 
 dreadful eternity" Alas, vain cry, the Judge: 
 will say, / never knew you, depart from me ! O. 
 be wise ! and guard, by early piety, against the 
 terrors of that day. The eternal Judge will not 
 be thus inexorable, unless, by your choice of sin, 
 you make him so. Give him now your heart,, 
 5ind he will then give you a crown of life which 
 fadeth not away. 
 
 § 7. But if you will not regard this advice, you 
 will then know your cruelty to your own soul. 
 Then you may sadly exclaim, " God was kind to 
 me ; he sought my happiness, and had I listen- 
 ed to his voice, I should have been for ever hap- 
 py. The Son of God was gracious to me. O, 
 how numberless were his compassions ; had I 
 regarded them, how blessed should I now have- 
 been. The Spirit of God was kind to me; 
 though grieved and resisted, how long he strove 
 v.'ith me. O, had I yielded to his gentle influ- 
 ence, no creature surely had been more blessed, 
 than I. The servants of God were kind to me. 
 Pious friends warned me. and prayed for me, 
 and wept for me. Faithful ministers taught me, 
 and laboured for my good, and wished for no re- 
 ward, hut my salvation. But I, alas ! was unkind 
 to all these, and cruel to myself. I denied them 
 all they sought — my happiness; — all they 
 prayed for — to see me snatched from hell. O, 
 had I had but half that compassion for myself, 
 which others had forme, hovv^ blessed had 1 been 
 
 Blatt. vii. 23. 
 
?92 ETERNAL RUIN AN AWFUL 
 
 now ! O, bad I Jet my God, my Redeemer, my 
 Cliristian friends, or ministers, have their desire, 
 I should now have been rising to eternal priory; 
 but ungrateCul to God, and cruel to myself, I have 
 undone my own soul with an everlasting des» 
 truction. Wretch that I was, to have no pity on 
 myself, while so many pitied me. Wretcli that 
 I was, to rush so madly to eternal flames, while 
 so many strove to keep me out ; and clas, so ob- 
 stinately to refuse such blessings, while so many 
 sought to make me a partaker of them." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE ETERNAL RUIN OF THE UNGODLY A MOTIVE FOR 
 THE EARLY CHOICE OF RELIGION. 
 
 § 1. There exists, in many minds, a strong 
 dislike to a faithful representation of those hor- 
 rors, to which the ungodly are exposed in the 
 eternal world ; yet the divine Saviour and his 
 apostles, by denunciations of the terrors of a 
 wretched eternity, warn the sinful to flee from the 
 wrath to come. Far, my youthful reader, am I 
 from loving to dwell on so painful, so dreadful a 
 subject. Fain would I have you sweetly con- 
 strained by the love of Christ to follow him ; but 
 perhaps 1 address some hardened, or some 
 thoughtless son or daughter of folly, on whom 
 that love has made no impression. O! then let 
 me make one effort more for your salvation ; and 
 though it is a dreadful reason, let me urge one 
 reason more for your accepting the grace of God. 
 And O, eternal God I now assist me, and by thy 
 terrors alarm that thoughtless soul, which thy 
 love has not affected, nor thy promises allured. 
 
MOTIVE FOR EARLY PIETY. 203 
 
 § 2. Dreadful are the representations which 
 the Scriptures give of the punishment of the un- 
 godly. Hell is described as " a lake of fire ;" of 
 fire prepared to punish the " devil and his angels." 
 "At the end of the world, the angels shall sev- 
 er the wicked from among the just, and shall 
 cast them into the furnace of fire." The Judge 
 shall say, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- 
 lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his an- 
 gels. And these shall go away into everlasting 
 punishment." "He will burn up the chaff with 
 unquenchable fire." "The fearful, and unbeliev- 
 ing, and the abominable, and murderers, and 
 whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and 
 all liars, shall have their part in the lake which 
 burneth Avith fire and brimstone ; which is the 
 second death." "And the smoke of their tor- 
 ment ascendeth up for ever and ever; and they 
 have no rest day nor night." "It is better for 
 thee to enter into life maimed, than having two 
 hands to go into hell, into the fire that never 
 shall be quenched, where their v/orm dieth not, 
 and the fire is not quenched." " The wicked shall 
 be turned into hell, and all the nations that for- 
 get God." The Lord Jesus himself tells of one 
 who lived in wealth and pleasure, but he died, 
 and "in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- 
 ments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Laza- 
 rus in his bosom ; and he cried and said, Fa- 
 ther Abraham, have mercy on me, and send La-' 
 zaiiis, that he may dip the tip of his finger in 
 water, and cool my tongue ; for I am toraaented 
 in this flame. But Abraham said. Son, remem- 
 ber that thou in thy life time receivedst thy good 
 
 Matt. xiii. 40, 50. IVIatt. xxv. 41, 46. Matt. iii. 12. Rev. xxi. 8. 
 RtMT. xiv. 3. Mark, ix. 43. Ps. ix. 17. Luke.'xvi. 23. 
 25* 
 
294 URETCIIEDNESS OF TIIR LOST. 
 
 thing's, and likewise liiizarus evil tlnns^s; but 
 now 1)6 is comforted, and thou art torn7ented. 
 And besides all this, between us and you there 
 is a {jreat jrulC fixed; so that they which would 
 pass from hence to you cannot ; neither can they 
 pass to us ti)at would come from ttience." 
 
 § 3. What bitter misery must they endure, 
 who feel the wretchedness here described ! 
 What outward torment ! what inward anguish ! 
 How dire will be the horrors of the hellish pri- 
 son! The place, the company, the state, wilt 
 all unite to make hell a hell indeed. Figure to 
 yourself a prisoner, in the most dismal dungeon 
 of the most dismal prison. No light ever shines 
 there. The poor sufferer has wept away a score 
 of years in darkness. Black bread is his only 
 food, water his drink. No human tongue ever 
 utters one kind word to him. He hears no sound 
 but the harsh grating of rusty doors, and the rat- 
 tling of chains. In vain for him the sun shines, 
 he sees it not. Others are happy, but he is 
 wretched. Others have friends, but he has none. 
 Others have homes, a dungeon is his home. 
 Others have clothes, chains are almost his only 
 covering. Others have comfort, no comfort is 
 ever his. — This is a prisoner in the dungeon of 
 some earthly tyrant ; but time is flying, a great- 
 er than man will soon set him at liberty. Ah ! 
 for what would you be in such a situation ? 
 Would the whole w orld bribe you to pass twen- 
 ty years in such a dungeon? Twenty years thus 
 spent would seem longer than twenty ages. Yet, 
 ah ! to those who have sunk to hell, what a hea> 
 ven would the prisoner's dungeon seem ! Com- 
 pared with the miseries of damnation, his mis- 
 eries would be blessedness. 
 
THEIR PLEASURES AND MERCIES ENDED. 295 
 
 § 4. All the delights of lost souls are s^one for 
 ever. Their pleasures, which they loved instead 
 of God, are for ever departed. Their lang'h- 
 ter is ended ; their mirth is finished. They have 
 done with play-houses, and card-tables, and tav- 
 erns, and romances, and novels. They sing their 
 wanton songs no more ; but groan beneath the 
 sting of every guilty pleasure. All their delu- 
 sive hopes are fled ; they no longer dream of 
 heaven ; but hope has left them to be torment- 
 ed by black despair. All their false peace is 
 passed away; and they learn by bitter experi- 
 ence, that there is no peace to the wicked. Once 
 they deluded themselves with presumptuous ex- 
 pectations, and hoped for heaven, while they 
 slighted the only way, that can lead a sinner 
 thither; but now they are dreadfully unde- 
 ceived. Once they could scorn religion as un- 
 necessary strictness ; but, now, too late they 
 know that it was the only real wisdom. With 
 all their pleasures, and delusive hopes, every 
 other mercy forsakes them. No sabbath shines 
 on them. No season of mercy cheers them with 
 its light; their day is ended, and a horrible 
 night of eternal darkness has begun. Once they 
 might have prayed ; but then they would not, 
 and in hell they cannot. God calls on them no 
 more ; but has forgotten to be gracious. Jesus 
 pities them no more ; nor can ^his blood ever 
 wash away one of their sins, though once it 
 might have cleansed them from all. The Spi- 
 rit strives with them no more. Once they would 
 not turn ; and now they cannot. No one will 
 ever more pray for them : No friendly voice will 
 ever say to them, " Sinner, turn, there is mercy for 
 you." The sennons of ministers shaU no long- 
 
296 HEAVEN LOST — HELL 
 
 er weary them; for they shall hear of ffospeJ 
 grace no more : the admonitions of pious friends 
 shall no longer trouble them ; for in hell they are 
 fixed beyond the reach of hope, or prayer, or 
 admonition, or mercy. 
 
 All the blessings of the eternal world, will be 
 for ever lost to them, God will never cheer them 
 with his smile. Never will they pass a single 
 hour, where saints and angels enjoy a whole eter- 
 nity. They are shut out of the heavenly city. 
 Their eyes will never behold its glories ; their 
 ears never be enraptured with its melodies ; 
 their hearts never be gladdened with its delights. 
 No crown of glory will ever be theirs. Tiieir 
 tongues shall never join the heavenly anthems 
 of praise, for victory and salvation. God will 
 never wipe one tear from their eyes; or remove 
 one pain from their hearts; but will pour out up- 
 on them all the fierceness of his wrath. Jesus 
 will never lead them to fountains of heavenly 
 pleasure ; not for one moment, manifest to them 
 the smallest portion of that love, which in full 
 perfection, he will manifest to his friends, 
 through one eternal day. 
 
 § 5. In hell too, every detestable evil, every 
 abominable passion, will reign and triumph. The 
 unhappy creature that sinks into that dreadful 
 prison, will have no companions but tormenting 
 devils, and the spirits of the damned. They, 
 whose lives were the blackest, and whose dispo- 
 sitions the most horrid, will meet there. Nero 
 and Herod, and cruel persecutors; Alexander, 
 and bloody conquerors ; the guilty crew of So- 
 dom and Gomorrah ; Paine and Voltaire, Hume 
 and hardened infidels ; profane blasphemers, fe- 
 rocious murderers, swearers, adulterers, drunk- 
 
THE ABODE OF ALL THAT IS HATEFUL. 297 
 
 ards, with Satan and his angels, will compose 
 the dreadful society of hell. Among all these 
 there will not be one mild disposition, or one 
 circumstance to soften the rage of the infernal 
 passions they feel within. There, alas ! must 
 they dwell, hateful, and hating one another ; ever 
 tormenting, and ever tormented ; with every hell- 
 ish passion, and every devilish disposition, aug- 
 mented by the madness of despair. There not 
 one soft word will be ever spoken ; not one mild 
 look ever seen ; but rage and fury be vented in 
 curses and blasphemy. O, could you endure in 
 this world, such company for a single day ! how 
 dreadful is their lot, who must dwell with devils 
 and the damned /or ever ! 
 
 § 6. To all this misery is added, that of the 
 fire that never shall be quenched. And Oh, 
 who can dwell with devouring fire? who can 
 endure everlasting burnings ? All the torments 
 which martyrs have suffered, would be almost 
 easy, compared with the torments of damna- 
 tion. Many of those faithful servants of God 
 have yielded up their lives, in the midst of dread- 
 ful burnings; but these were not an everlasting 
 fire. An old writer says, "I have read of the 
 horrid execution of a traitor : being naked, he 
 was chained fast to a chair of brass or some other 
 metal, that would burn most furiously, being fill- 
 ed with fiery heat; about which was made a 
 mighty fire, that by little and little caused the 
 chair to be red and raging hot, so that the mise- 
 rable man roared hideously many hours for ex- 
 tremest anguish, and so expired. But what an 
 horrible thing had it been to have lain in that 
 dreadful torment eternally." If merely a finger 
 be burnt, or one limb be scorched, how torment- 
 
29S "WHO CAN DWELL 
 
 \n^ is the pain ! yet what is this compared with 
 sinking in the flaming waves of hell, tormented in 
 every part, and nolhing to give a momentary re- 
 lief! yet this must be the careless sinner's dread- 
 ful portion. The Son of God himself has declar- 
 ed the awful truth ; and it is hideous cruelty to 
 an immortal soul, to reject it, through a delusive 
 hope, that God's threatenings will not be fulfilled. 
 Can you then, O young sinner ! dwell iv'ith ever- 
 lasting buruhigs f^ you must, if you do not repent. 
 If your hand were thrust into a flaming furnace, 
 the torment would he great, but more supporta- 
 ble, if you were assured that in a minute, it should 
 be taken out again : but if your hand were capa- 
 ble of lasting so long, and you were assured that 
 it should continue burning for life, how intolera- 
 ble would your misery seem ! how would you 
 wish for death to end it, yet it would be as no- 
 thing, compared with what the spirits of the lost 
 must feel in hell. There all the soul, and, after 
 the resurrection, all the immortal body, must en- 
 dure indescribable misery, and no easy part with- 
 in or without. How dreadful is the state of those, 
 who, dying in their sins, are dragged down by de- 
 vils, to infinite despair ! Oh, what a change, when 
 they are snatched away from the world they lov- 
 ed, to that where there is nothing but malignant 
 spirits to torment them ! no sound of a Saviour's 
 love; but horrid lamentations and despair. 
 What fearful horrors stare them in the face on 
 every side ! How would they shrink back from 
 the mouth of the infernal dungeon, but Oh ! they 
 caimot, for the wrath of an incensed God drives 
 them in. And when once they have entered it, 
 it is for eternity. Alas ! how infernal the socie- 
 ty, how doleful the abode ! Oh the dreadful tor- 
 
VVl'fH EVERLASTING BaRNlNGS !" 299 
 
 ments of eternal ^re ! Oh the horrid company of 
 hellish fiends ! Where can they turn their af- 
 frighted eyes ? Alas ! it is every where the same 
 sad spectacle, blackness, and darkness, and de- 
 vils, and flame. O could they die again, but die 
 they cannot. Roll on, ye everlasting ages, but 
 why roll on ? ye will never be nearer to an end. 
 
 "Tempests of angry fire shall roll 
 
 To blast the rebel worm, 
 And beat upon his naked soul, 
 
 In one eternal storm. '- 
 
 How dreadful a change is this for the careless 
 sinner! Here he has many comforts, and what 
 he esteems pleasures ; there, not one. Here ten- 
 der friends are his companions by day ; but there 
 are no kind companions there. By nii^'^lit an ea- 
 sy bed refreshes his weary limbs ; and in calm 
 sleep even his sorrows are forgotten; but there 
 he will sleep no more to forget his misery; but 
 writhe and toss his wretched form for ever on the 
 lake of fire. Here even the most distressed have 
 something remaining to lessen tlieir wretched- 
 ness; but there, human kindness cannot enter; 
 and»devils cannot love. There is nothing to give, 
 even once in ten thousand years, a momentary 
 pleasure. No ease to mingle with a sea of mi- 
 sery. Not one gleam of hope to brighten an eter- 
 nal night. Not one drop of water, to cool for a 
 moment the wretched tongue tormented in tiiat 
 everlasting flame. INIisery will reign in every 
 heart ; despair will scowl on every face ; rage, 
 anguish, and remorse, distract every soul. 
 
 § 7. Ah it will be so. To the fire that never 
 shall be quenched, is added the worm that will 
 never die. The lost sinner will feel a hell within, 
 as well as helL without. Infernal passions, like 
 
300 NARRATIVE, ILLUSTRATING 
 
 KO many ravenouo vultures, wil^tear his vvrelclied 
 soul. Little, young- sinner, do you imagine, 
 what misery will spring- from this one source. 
 Some unhappy creatures even in this world, have 
 seemed to be lively images of what lost souls 
 must be for ever. A statement to the following- 
 effect appeared in 1797, in the New York Theo- 
 logical Magazine. " A young man who had had 
 some serious impressions, but who harden^;d 
 himself in sin, declared, that after that time 
 when God seems to have forsaken him, his 
 heart became as hard as adamant — his enmity 
 against God increased to a great degree. He did 
 not feel one desire to ask or receive mercy, or the 
 least favour from God. He never reflected on 
 the divine character, but his heart rose in the 
 most violent opposition. ' Whenever,' said he, 
 'I reflect that God is Almighty, just and holy, 
 — that I am dependant on him — that he can 
 and will do with me what he pleases, my heart 
 burns with rage and fury, and had I power I 
 would execute vengeance upon the Almighty.' 
 He then said to a number under religious im- 
 pressions, 'I have heard you relate the feelings 
 of your hearts, and you appear to have some 
 sense of your wickedness; but if enmity of heart 
 against God is wickedness, and that it is I am 
 fully convinced, though I wish to believe the 
 contrary, your present sense is nothing compared 
 with the fountain of iniquity within. I know if 
 all men's hearts are alike you would dethrone 
 the Almighty if you had power. Had I an om- 
 nipotent arm, heaven would soon be stormed, 
 and God be cast headlong from his throne.* 
 *I have no peace,' said he, 'day or night, my 
 torment is as ^reat seemingly as 1 can endure. 
 
THE INWAKD MISERY OF THE LOST. 301 
 
 God is constantly in my view, and my heart is 
 constantly burning- with rage and fury/ His 
 eyes, his countenance, his air expressed the same 
 feelings with his words. Nothing said availed 
 any thing unless to increase his rage and enmity. 
 " He had,*' says the writer, " as it appeared to me, 
 the most clear and lively sense of the wickedness 
 of the human heart — of the divine character — 
 of the creature's dependence — and the nature of 
 future torments, of any person with whom I was 
 ever acquainted. His distress was sometimes so 
 great, that he would lie down and roll upon the 
 floor; groan like a man exercised with excrucia- 
 ting pain ; and cry, ' O ! that I could banish 
 from my mind, all thoughts of God for ever and 
 ever !' At one time he travelled barefoot in the 
 night, twelve miles in a deep snow ; and gave 
 as a reason for his conduct, that bodily pain was 
 the only means, by which he could divert his 
 mind from those objects which gave him greater 
 distress ; he therefore did it to mitigate his dis- 
 tress." Oh doleful condition ! Oh miserable 
 end of a life of sin, if this were all its misery ! 
 but as the happiness of saints is never perfected 
 on earth, so there is no reason for believing, that 
 even this dreadful wretchedness is at all to be 
 compared with the miseries of the lost. Words 
 cannot describe, nor imagination ever conceive, 
 what will be the remorse of such a soul. Then 
 will the sinner discern for what he lost the fair 
 inheritance of heaven ; and for what poor trifles 
 he sunk his soul to hell. Then will he know 
 what base pleasures of a moment, he preferred 
 to eternal life and eternal glory. Oh how will it 
 wound his soul, to think of grace refused, and 
 Christ neglected ! Oh, while he blasphemes his 
 
302 THE SINNER'S LATE RKMUUSE. 
 
 God, how will he curse his own self-destroying 
 folly, in choosinf^ the way to hell instead of that 
 to heaven, and sin instead of religion ! Oh how 
 bitter now will be the remembrance of sabbaths 
 wasted ! of mercy rejected ! of the calls to which 
 he would not hearken, and the admonitions he 
 would not regard ! *' Is this the hell," may the 
 unhappy creature say, " that I was choosing 
 when I turned a deaf ear to the advice of God ! 
 Is this the fruit of my fancied wisdom ! and this 
 eternal flame, the end of all my pleasures ! Is 
 even this damnation my own choice ? Ah ! why 
 have some whom I once knew risen to glory ! 
 They were not born the heirs of heaven any more 
 than I. Like ma they ivere the children of 
 wrath. Why are they admitted and I shut out ! 
 Why are they happy and I miserable ! They 
 in heaven and I in hell ! Ah ! they listened to 
 the Saviour's voice, and I hearkened not. They 
 turned to God, and I refused to turn. They 
 were wise, and I distracted ; now they are blest, 
 and I undone. Wretched creature ! and have I 
 sold my soul for a moment's base delight? 
 Have I valued eternal glories at so little a price? 
 Have I preferred the world and the devil to a 
 compassionate Saviour and a gracious God ? 
 Alas! 1 have. Woe is me! All is lost! My 
 soul is lost ! and damnation with all its horrors, 
 must be mine to all eternity." 
 
 § 8. Eternity, Eternity! this completes the 
 sinnei-'s misery. O young sinner, if once you 
 sink to hell it will make even hell itself more 
 horrid, to think that you musi be for ever there. 
 " The intolerableness," says one, " of your pain 
 and torment, will make every day seem an age, 
 and every year as long as eternity; and yet you 
 
ETERNITY. 303 
 
 must lie there an eternity of these long years." 
 Had a lost soul in hell but the faintest hope of 
 deliverance, though at the end of as many mil- 
 lions of ages as there are drops in the sea, hell 
 would lose half its horrors. But now, alas ! 
 eternity, which might have been the measure of 
 their joys, will be the only measure of their tor- 
 ments. There the fire never shall be quenched. 
 Could a lost soul shed but one tear, once 
 in ten thousand years, and do this till a sea 
 as vast, as all the seas on earth together, were 
 filled with tears, all its sufferings, in that long, 
 long period, would be but the beginning of eter- 
 nal misery. All those millions of years of 
 wretchedness, would bring the unhappy soul no 
 nearer to an end of its torments, than one poor 
 fleeting hour. Oh infinitely miserable creatures! 
 that when millions of years of sorrow are past, 
 can only say, "These flames again, these tor- 
 tures again ;" and when millions more have 
 flown, will still find their miseries beginning ; 
 and for ever see an eternity of misery still before 
 them. Were these sorrows to be borne, only for 
 the most numerous course of ages, they would 
 be more supportable ; every hour of misery 
 would then bring on an end of all misery ; and of 
 the most deeply undone sinner it might be said, 
 that the time would come, when devils should 
 cease from tormenting, and the unhappy should 
 be at rest. Yet, O eternity ! that joyful or 
 dreadful word forbids the hope. Oh pitiable 
 folly of unhappy men, wretched madness of 
 miserable sinners I so wilfully to refuse a Sa- 
 vioui-'s grace, and so obstinately to plunge into 
 perdition. And, O my young friend ! is not 
 this yours ? If it is, these sorrows will soon be 
 
o04 KIEKMIY. 
 
 yours. You may forget how fast eternity comes, 
 but will never forget how slow it goes. Do you 
 not pity those, who by one wrong step in youth, 
 entail on themselves misfortune and sorrow for 
 life? but oh, how are you to be pitied who in 
 this short life are ruining an endless one. In 
 this little inch of time, you are bringing a heavy 
 and immoveable curse on a whole eternity. You 
 are doing the worst mischief to your own soul 
 that hell can wish; and worse than a united 
 hell could do. Satan may tempt you to slight 
 salvation ; but he cannot make you do it. Oh 
 will you make light of Jesus still ^ and still re- 
 fuse your heart to him ? Oh if you do ; alas for 
 you, that ever you were bom ! for when your 
 future wretchedness has lasted as many millions 
 of miserable years as there are sands on the sea- 
 shore, it will he but beginning ; and when it has 
 continued as many more it will be no nearer end- 
 ing. A head-ache, or a tooth-ache, or a burn- 
 ing fever, for one night is painful ; but what is 
 this to a painful eternity ! Hew slowly go your 
 hours when kept sleepless with pain ! how long 
 they seem, while you count hour after hour, in 
 sad succession, and wish the morning to appear! 
 but there is no easy morning to follow the night 
 of hell. How slowly will go a sad eternity there, 
 when no hope of an end appears ! What life 
 of sinful pleasure and neglect of Christ can ev- 
 er make amends for this ! How short is the 
 trifling, and how long the sorrow I How short 
 the pleasure, and how long the pain ! How short 
 the momentary satisfaction, and how long the 
 dreadful punishment ! The Christian, when he 
 looks around, may mourn to think what will be 
 their lot in eternity, whom he sees so careless 
 
MOTIVE FOR EARLY PIETY. 305 
 
 of eternity now. "Tkese poor creatures," he 
 may often have to say, "unless they repent of 
 their sins, will be lamenting the sinful delights 
 i)f to-day, ten tiiousand ages hence ; for eterni- 
 ty is theirs." O my young friend, could you 
 now look into that flaming prison, whose terrors 
 no tongue can express; could you see the liv- 
 id flame, the darkness visible ; could you be- 
 hold those who were once angels changed in- 
 to devils ; and the immortal spirits, that might 
 have reached heaven, now weltering in the lake 
 of fire ; could you see this, you would behold 
 what you, even you, must see ere long, unless 
 you seek that grace which leads to glory. Could 
 you see this, it might then be said to you, "Hi- 
 ther tend the paths of transgression. Hither a 
 youth, spent in folly and vanity, has conducted 
 many ; here end the pleasures of sin." O, flee 
 from uestruction; flee from the tempter; flee 
 from all that would charm you to neglect your 
 God, for such charms allure to hell. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE YOUNG READER ENTREATED TO MAKE HIS 
 LASTING CHOICE. 
 
 § 1. Tt was the blessed resolution of Joshua, 
 that whatever others did, he would serve the 
 Lord ; a resolution made more than three thou- 
 sand years ago, but which doubtless yields him 
 Batisfaction even to the present hour. And now 
 you have read thus far in this little volume, what 
 IS your decision ? I have endeavoured to set be- 
 fore you some of the pleasing, and some of the 
 dreadful motives which urge you to embrace the 
 
306 SCRIPTURAL MARKS 
 
 gospel of the Lord. Yet think not that the lialf, 
 or even the thousandth part has been told. Faint 
 is the representation here attempted of the love 
 of Christ; the worth of the soul ; the joys of hea- 
 ven; or ihe terrors of hell. Those awful reali- 
 ties; in solemnity and importance, more exceed 
 the account here given of them, than a thunder- 
 clap exceeds the faintest whisper ; or than the 
 noon-day sun outshines one glimmering spark. 
 What then is your decision ? Have you chosen? 
 or will you choose tlie way of life ? Perhaps you 
 know that you have not ; or perhaps you scarce- 
 ly know whether you are in the way of life oi 
 not. If this be the case, examine yourself by a 
 few plain scriptural marks ; and try your state, 
 before it be tried by the Eternal Judge. 
 
 § 2. — 1. They who are the willing slaves of 
 their sins, are most certainly in the way to des- 
 truction. " Know ye not, that to whom ye yield 
 yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are 
 to whom ye obey ; whether of sin unto death, or 
 of obedience unto righteousness?" "The worka 
 of the flesh are manifest; which are these : Adul- 
 tery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, 
 idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, 
 wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, mur- 
 ders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like ; they 
 which do such things shall not inherit the king, 
 (lom of God.'* " Let no man deceive you with 
 »'ain words; for because of these things cometh 
 the wrath of God upon the children of disobedi- 
 ence." " He that committeth sin, is of the devil.** 
 
 2. They who indulge envy, hatred, malice, or 
 any malevolent passion, are most surely in the 
 way to hell. " If ye forgive not men their tres- 
 
 Kom. vi. It'. Gal. v 1<J, 21. Ephes,. v. 6. 1 John, iii. 8. 
 
FOR SELF-EXAMINATION. 307 
 
 passes, neither will your Father forgive your tres- 
 passes." He that loveth not his brother abideth 
 in death. Whosoever hateth his brother is a 
 murderer; and ye know that no murderer hath 
 eternal life abiding in him." " If a man say, I 
 love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar." 
 
 3. They whose lives may be moral, but who 
 indulge a careless unconcern about salvation, who 
 are thoughtful about this world, but thoughtless 
 about the next, are most certainly hastening to 
 hell. " How shall we escape, if we neglect so 
 great salvation." " See that ye refuse not him 
 that speaketh. For if they escaped not who re- 
 fused him that spake on earth, much more shall 
 not we escape, if we turn away from him that 
 speaketh from heaven." " A certain man made 
 a great supper, and bade many; and sent his ser- 
 vant at supper time to say to them that were bid- 
 den. Come, for all things are now ready. But 
 they made light of it, and went iheir \\ays, one to 
 his farm, and another to his merchandise : And 
 they all with one consent, began to make excuse. 
 I say unto you, that none of those that were bid- 
 den shall taste of my supper. For many are 
 called, but few are chosen." 
 
 4. They who are in the way to heaven, have 
 been brought to see and feel the evil and sinful- 
 ness of sin, and have been brought to true repen- 
 tance; without which no one can be saved. 
 "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." 
 " Thus saith the high and lofty One, that inhabi- 
 teth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in 
 the high and holy place, with him also that is of 
 a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit 
 
 IVtatt. Ti. 15. IJohn, iii. 14,15. iv. 20. Heb. ii. 1—3. xii. 25. 
 Luke, xiv. W, &c. Matt. xxij. 5, &c. I.nke, xiii. 3. 
 
308 SCRIPTURAL MARKS 
 
 of the liumble, and to revive the heart of the con- 
 trite ones." "The sacrifices of God are a broken 
 spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou 
 wilt not despise." " Come unto me, all ye that 
 labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest." 
 
 5. They who are in the vvav to heaven, have 
 been led to the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation. 
 *' A man is not justified by the works of the l?iw, 
 but by the faith of Jesus Christ." "Blessed be 
 the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings 
 in heavenly places in Christ; JJe hath made us 
 accepted in the Beloved." "Who his own self 
 bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that 
 we, being dead to sins, should live unto righte- 
 ousness ; by whose stripes ye were healed. For 
 ye were as sheep going astray; but are now re- 
 turned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your 
 souls." 
 
 6. They who are in the way to heaven have 
 such a value for the Lord Jesus, that they prefer 
 him to the whole world ; and they who would not 
 part with every thing, and even life itself, for 
 Christ's sake, cannot he his disciples. This truth 
 is most certainly taught in Scripture, and is so 
 decisive a mark of our real state, that I beg your 
 particular attention to it. ''Wha'. things were 
 gain to me;, those I counted Joss for Christ. I 
 have sufifered the loss of all things, and do count 
 them but dung that I may win Christ." "Unto 
 you therefore which believe he is precious." 
 "Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest 
 that I love thee.*' "Whom having not seen ye 
 
 It. Ivii. 15. Ps. li. 17. Matt. xi. 28. Gal. ii. 16. E phes. i. a 
 , I Pet ii. 24. Phil. ill. ? 1 Pet. ii. 7. John, xxi. 17 1 Pet. i. 1 
 
FOR SELF-EXAMINATION. 309 
 
 love." "He that loveth father or mother more 
 than me is not worthy of me ; and He that loveth 
 son or daug:hter more than me, is not worthy of 
 me. And he that taketh not his cross, and fol- 
 loweth after me, is not worthy of me. Whoso- 
 ever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, 
 cannot be my disciple." " Whosoever he be of 
 you that forsaketh not all thai he hath, he cannot 
 be my disciple." " If any man love not the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema Maranatha." 
 
 7. They who are in the way to heaven set their 
 affections on things above ; and they, whose af- 
 fections ar3 not fixed on heavenly things, what- 
 ever their profession may be, have no true reli- 
 gion. "Lay not up for yourselves treasures 
 upon earth : But lay up for yourselves treasures 
 in heaven ; For where your treasure is, there 
 will your heart be also." " If ye then be risen 
 with Christ, seek those things which are above." 
 Set your affections on things above, and not on 
 things on the earth." " Here have we no continu- 
 ing city, but we seek one to come." " We walk 
 by faith, not by sight." " We look not at the 
 things which are seen, but at the things which 
 are not seen ; for the things which are seen are 
 temporal ; but the things which are not seen are 
 eternal." " Many walk, of whom I have told 
 you often, and now tell you even weeping, that 
 they are the enemies of the cross of Christ, whose 
 end is destruction — who mind earthly things. 
 Our conversation is in heaven ; from whence also 
 we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 8. They who are in the way to heaven, mani- 
 fest their faith in Christ, by lives of holiness. 
 
 Matt X. 37. Luke, xiv. 27. ICor. xvi. 22. Matt. vi. 19. Col. iii. 1,2. 
 Heb. xiii. 14. 2 Cor. v 7 iv. 18. Phil. iii. 18, &c. 
 
310 MARKS OF PIKTY 
 
 They resist sin ; lliey watch and pray ; ihey stu- 
 dy and endeavour lo be like their Lord ; and 
 they who are careless of leading holy lives are 
 perishino^ in sin. " In Jesus Christ neither cir- 
 cumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumci- 
 sion ; but failh which worketh by love." "Faith, 
 if it hath not works, is dead, being alone." "Fol- 
 low peace with all men, and holiness, without 
 which no man shall see the Lord." "Being 
 made free from sin, and become servants to God, 
 ye have your fruit unto holiness; and the end, 
 everlasting life." " In this the children of God 
 are manifest, and the children of the devil ; who- 
 soever doeth not righteousness, is not of God, 
 neither he that loveth not his brother." "Mor- 
 tify therefore your members which are upon the 
 earth." " Take ye heed, watch and pray. I say 
 unto all, watch," " Christ suffered for us, leav- 
 ing us an example that we should follow his 
 steps." "If ye live after the flesh, ye shall die ; 
 but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds 
 of the body, ye shall live." " Hereby we do 
 know that we know him, if we keep his com- 
 mandments. He that saith, I know nim, and 
 keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and 
 the truth is not in him." 
 
 § 3. Do any of the former of these few plain 
 marks show you to be yet in your sins.? or do 
 the latter appear in you and mark you as a child 
 of God? Have you been humbled before God 
 for your sins? Have you fled to Christ for 
 righteousness and life ? Have you learned to 
 esteem Jesus and salvation above all earthly 
 good ? Would you sooner die for him, than live 
 
 Gal. V. G. Jam. ii. 17. Heb. xii. 14. Horn. vi. 22 1 John, iii. 10. 
 Col. iii. 5. Mark, xiii. 33. 1 Pet. ii. 21. Rem. viii. 13. 1 John, ii. 3. 
 
QUESnONS T'J THE ilEADER (ill 
 
 without him ? Do you choose heavenly things 
 in preference to earthly? and is it the chief de- 
 sire of your heart, and the main concern of your 
 life, to live as you would wish to die? Multi- 
 tudes go much further in piety, than all this, but 
 if these marks of your possessing religion be 
 wanting, be assured, on God's authority, that 
 you are no more than almost a Christian at the 
 best ; and far from happiness and heaven. Can 
 you, when you look back on life, if unable to tell 
 the time when you were first awakened, yet say. 
 One thing I know, that ivhereas I ivas blind, now I 
 see! Can you see that you have, from your 
 heart, devoted yourself to God ? that you have 
 seriously and deliberately, chosen him as your 
 God, and Christ as your Saviour? If you dis- 
 cern nothing of this kind, depend upon it, the 
 reason is that you are as yet perishing in your 
 sinsc Transactions between God and the soul, 
 of so much importance as these, cannot possibly 
 have taken place without your notice and remem- 
 biancCo When any one has been brought out of 
 darkness into light, does he not know it ? When 
 a servant has changed masters, is he not aware 
 of the change? and if he forgets the day, yet he 
 remembers that such a change nas taken place; 
 and if you had changed the service of the world 
 and sin, for that of God and Christ, would you 
 not know that you had done so? Alas you can- 
 not have a plainer proof, that you are in your 
 sins, than having no knowledge of any alteration 
 of this kind in your views and feelings. But 
 should I leave you thus ? God forbid ! I be- 
 seech you to be reconciled to God. I beseech 
 you to choose the way of life. 
 
 § 4. Youth is your choosing time. The years 
 
312 YOUTH THE TIME FOR CHOOSING RELIGION. 
 
 between fifteen and twenty-five are an awfully 
 important season. What you are at the end of 
 that period, you will probably be for ever. That 
 laborious and useful minister, Doddridg^e, not 
 many years before bis death, observed, that by 
 far the greater part of those who had been admit- 
 ted to communion in the church under his care, 
 were, as he apprehended, under twenty-four years 
 of atce ; and that of those who had been admit- 
 ted later, several were broup^ht to religion in their 
 much earlier years. Another minister, who la- 
 boured for nearly forty years, and under whose 
 mmistry it has been supposed, a thousand per- 
 sons were converted, is stated to have observed, 
 that he never knew one person, who sat under 
 the preaching of the gospel till his thirtieth year 
 without embracing religion, that ever embraced 
 it afterwards. So true is it, my young friend, 
 that youth is your choosing time. Now therefore 
 decide, whose you will be in this world, and 
 whose you will be for ever. Behold life and death 
 are before you. For eternity you have to make 
 your choice. You have to decide whether you 
 will be* a, child of God, or a slave of the devil; an 
 inhabitant of heaven, or an out-cast in hell. 
 Your early days are days for beginning to be 
 happy; for securing happiness that will last 
 for ever ; and can you do this too soon ? If you 
 would possess heaven, seek it now. 
 
 § 5. By the infinite worth of religion, I be- 
 seech you make your choice. More than a thou- 
 sand lives depend upon it, even a whole eterni- 
 ty. All that is deemed most great, and most im- 
 portant, all about which the wise debate, and the 
 noble contend, all for which nations war, and ar- 
 
THE READER ENTREATED TO CHOOSE. 313 
 
 mies die, is as worthless as a feather, compared 
 with the blessings of the gospel. 
 
 By all the joys and glories of heaven, I be- 
 seech yon, embrace early religion. If you wish 
 ever to enter those blessed abodes ; if you would 
 ever obtain a crown of life eternal; make this 
 your choice. You may obtain everlasting glo- 
 ries; you may enter heavenly rest; and when 
 this poor vain life shall have passed, dwell in the 
 presence of God and the Lamb ; you may do 
 thi?, and will you not? Are you bent on shut- 
 ting your own soul out of happiness ? The 
 crown of glory, peace and blessedness, joy and 
 triumph, the sweet society of angels, and the love 
 of God, all may be yours; and will you refuse 
 them all ? By these and ten thousand heavenly 
 blessings, I entreat you, seek God as your God. 
 Then welcome death! welcome c.ernity! wel- 
 come all the scenes beyond the grave I welcome 
 the great judgment! welcome heaven! 
 
 By the care and kindness of others for you, I 
 beseech you to turn to religion. Shall God en- 
 treat you in vain to be reconciled to him ? Shall 
 Jesus sue in vain ? Shall the Spirit strive in 
 vain ? Shall all who labour for your good, labour 
 in vain ? O, forbid it, and be wise for eternity. 
 
 By all the solemnities of death, I beseech you 
 -choose the way of life. Think of your dying 
 hour, of your physician saying, There is no hope ; 
 of your friends bidding you a last farewell, of 
 your pulse stopping, your voice failing, your eyes 
 closing, and your soul taking its everlasting 
 flight. And w-ill you for the pleasures of a mo- 
 ment undo that immortal soul ? Think of your- 
 t-elf stretched lifeless in a coffin ; of your grave 
 opened; of your funeral over; of your body the 
 
3l4 THE READER ENTREATED 
 
 prey of worms and corruption; and in a little 
 while of nothing remaining- of you in ihis world 
 but a heap of dust ; O think of these thini^s, and 
 by these be persuaded, to make that choice now, 
 which will yield you satisfaction when you die. 
 
 By the vanity of this world, I beseech you to 
 choose that Saviour, who would jruide you to a 
 better. When you see the remains of skeletons, 
 and of mouldered coffins, thrown up in a grave- 
 yard to make room for another who is going to 
 the same long home, think what is the value of 
 this world to them, that lay in those coffins once. 
 Its worth to them is its worth to you. You must 
 die though they are dead. You must need a 
 coffin soon, though they have done needing one. 
 How small is the difference ! They have met 
 their God ; and you will shortly meet him ! 
 They are in heaven or hell ; and you upon the 
 edge of one or the other. In this situation, for so 
 vain a world slight not, I entreat you, your im- 
 moi*tal soul. 
 
 By all the eternal Fathei*'s kindness, I beseech 
 you yield your heart to him. By his goodness 
 in giving you life ; by his kindness in crowning 
 your days with comforts ; by his patience in 
 bearing with you when he might justly have 
 spurned you to hell ; by his pity in offering you 
 salvation ; by his love in giving his beloved Son 
 to death for your transgressions, and frowning 
 on him that he might for ever smile on you ; by 
 all this, and by all that goodness of the Lord's, 
 which, if you had ten thousand hearts, would 
 claim them all ; I beseech you give him that one 
 poor heart you have. As you would not be base- 
 ly ungrateful, and infernally wicked to your best 
 friend, I entreat you no longer yield to vanity. 
 
TO EMBRACE THE GOSPEL. 315 
 
 sin, and Satan, that health and youth which God 
 demands. 
 
 By all the compassion and love of the Son of 
 God, I beseech you make his service your sin- 
 cere and lasting choice. By his deep humilia- 
 tion and poverty ; by his poor manger and his 
 life of sorrows ; by his tears and sighs for wretch- 
 ed men ; by his bloody agony, and his thorny 
 crown ; by his bitter cross, and all his sufferings 
 there ; I entreat you give him yourself. Love 
 like his demands your all for ever. By his en- 
 during all this, to save you from the dreadful 
 pains of eternal death, I entreat you defeat not 
 his gracious desifms. As you would ever have 
 an interest in his love, as you would have him re- 
 ceive you to his eternal abode, O receive him nov^ 
 as your Saviour, your Lord, your all. 
 
 By every feeling of pity for yourself, and com- 
 passion for your own soul, I beseech you embrace 
 early religion. Will you not have pity on your 
 own soul, that deathless soul, which at another 
 day, you will want God and Christ to pity ? You 
 love your body, would you hate your soul ? You 
 love to adorn and preserve the feeble building of 
 clay; would you damn the immortal spirit that 
 dwells within it ? You love ease, O, pity your- 
 self, and rush not forward to eternal pain ! You 
 love happiness, O, be wise, and choose eternal 
 happiness ! As you would not have all your hopes 
 end in despair ; as you would not have all your 
 pleasures end in sorrow ; as ever you would find 
 pity at the bar of God, and mercy at his hands, 
 pity yourself, and make his love your po'iion. 
 
 If you would not abuse the grace of God to 
 your own destruction ; if you would not be die 
 wilful murderer of your own soul ; I beseecb 
 
316 THE READER ENTREATED 
 
 you embrace the gospel. Plow liaid you \voula 
 think il, if God had decreed your everlasting 
 misery, and irrevocably shut you out of heaven ; 
 and now. when he offers you life and salvation, 
 would you shut out yourself? Would you be 
 so cruel a self-murderer as to expose your own 
 soul to the death that never never dies ? for that 
 is the destruction which the soul incurs. You 
 will, you must do this, if you do not turn to the 
 Lord. Could some hardened creature ask you 
 to sign a declaration, that you hated religion ; 
 that you determined to have nothing to do with 
 God or the Redeemer; that as for heaven they 
 were welcome to it, who thought it worth their 
 care ; and as for hell you cared nought for it; — 
 Could you be asked to sign such a declaration, 
 would not you start back with horror at the pro- 
 posal of doing so ? Or had some one the power 
 of offering you the whole world, and of saying, 
 " I will give you all the happiness of this world, 
 all its wealth and all its honours, if you will give 
 up all hope of heaven, and engage when you die 
 to dwell with the devil and his angels through all 
 eternity :" would you not tremble at tlie very 
 thought of accepting such an offer ? and of be- 
 ing your own wilful destroyer ? O, then do not 
 do in reality, what you would not do by such an 
 agreement. Most persons lose their souls as 
 completely as if they bargained for the loss. 
 He who lives careless of religion, says by his 
 conduct, "I choose hell for my portion, and Sa- 
 tan for my master." It comes to the same at 
 last, whether you profess that you hate religion, 
 or live careless of the blessed Son of God. To 
 despise serious religion would sink you to hell, 
 and thus make you the murderer of your own 
 
TO EMBRACE THE GOSPEL. 317 
 
 soul ; and to live without embracing humble pi- 
 ety, and obeying the gospel, will do the same : 
 and where in the end, is the difference ? 
 
 By all the sorrows of the ungodly, be persua- 
 ded to make your instant choice. By all the mi- 
 sery of dying in despair ; " By all the terrors of 
 the tomb; by death and hell;" I entreat you 
 yield your youth to Christ. By the fire that 
 never shall be quenched ; by the worm that nev- 
 er dieth ; by the utter darkness, which shall nev- 
 er be cheered with one gleam of light ; by the 
 misery, that shall never know one moment's ease ; 
 by all the horrors of an eternity in hell, I be- 
 seech you flee from the wrath to come ! 
 
 By the eternal difference between those who 
 love the Lord, and those who love him not, I en- 
 treat you embrace the gospel. All other distinc- 
 tions will shordy vanish for ever. Youth and age, 
 strength and weakness, will be soon on a level in 
 the grave. My young friend, when you see a per- 
 son oppressed with poverty and gloom ; covered 
 with rags ; and worn out with the burden of four 
 ecore years, while you feel vigorous and gay, 
 young and healthy, you perhaps think with plea- 
 sure, how different is your lot from his. A little 
 time, and that difference will be over. It will be 
 all over when you meet your God : health, and 
 youth, and vigour, will have fled away; nothing 
 but an interest in Jesus will then avail you. No 
 distinction will remain but that which springs 
 from true religion ; and that will last for ever. 
 Here the difference between those who love Christ, 
 and those who slight him, is not most percepti- 
 ble : but it will be most fully seen in the eternal 
 world. Here the religious and the irreligious meet 
 together. Tliey dwell in the same houses; they 
 27* 
 
318 THE YOUNG READER ENTREATED 
 
 engafT-e in the same business. In the house of 
 God they sit in the same seats, and hear the same 
 truths ; but hereafter they will be parted far asun- 
 der. The last great separating day is hastening 
 on; and then shall they mingle together no more. 
 No more shall they occupy the same seats ; nor 
 dwell in the same houses ; nor pursue the same 
 employments. All this will be for ever done 
 with ; and a distance wide indeed, will part them 
 for eternity. O ! as you would then have the dis- 
 tinction of belonging to Jesus, embrace his gos- 
 pel now ! As ever you would share the happi- 
 ness of those who meet in glory, I beseech you 
 by coming to Christ, secure it now ! How hap- 
 pily will they meet there, who have trodden the 
 same path of humble religion here I How happily 
 will the pious child meet his parents I the faith- 
 ful pastor his flock ! relations join relations 
 again ! and friends unite with friends ! 
 
 And now, my young friend, life and death are 
 set before you. " I call heaven and earth to re- 
 cord against you, that I have set before you life 
 and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose 
 life." The only alternative presented to you, is. 
 Religion and heaven; or, Want of Religion and 
 hell. Which, O, which is your choice? Now 
 is your choosing time. You must be a saint or 
 a brute here, and an angel or a devil hereafter. 
 Perhaps you may never again be invited to make 
 this important choice ; and your decision this 
 day, may be that by which your eternal state will 
 be fixed. Choose then, I entreat you, the way of 
 life, if you have not already chosen it. Peace 
 attends it, and happiness is at its end ; happiness 
 inconceivable, unutterable> and eternal. And 
 will you choose ? or have you chosen humble re- 
 
TO EMBRACE EARLY RELIGION. 319 
 
 I.gion? If you have, let me take you by the 
 iiand, and lead you into yonder fair and spacious 
 world. May I imagine that I see you arrived 
 there ? or are you determined never to go thither? 
 May I imagine that I see you before the throne 
 of the Eternal, adorned with the splendours, and 
 blessed in the raptures of heaven ? Ah ! is it 
 but deception ? do you still slight the way that 
 leads a sinner to glory and to God ? May I ima- 
 gine, or is that too happy a supposition, that you 
 ascribe your early choice of the way of life, to the 
 blessing of the Most High on this little volume? 
 O, if in any instance this be the case, blessed be 
 God, who gave the disposition to write it ! and 
 blessed be the day that saw it begun ! May T 
 imagine, that you look on this as the happy 
 choosing day that led you to Jesus ; and thus fix- 
 ed your joy for an eternity, where days, and years, 
 and ages are no more ? O my brother, my sister, 
 may I fancy that I m.eet you there, with your 
 great interests and mine secured for ever? 
 Blessed hour I blessed scene! O, in the pros, 
 pect of it, let me urge you to make religion your 
 earliest, only choice. Jt is the best that you can 
 make. Were you prevailed on this day to obey 
 the gospel, and begin a lit'e of early piety, how 
 happy a day would this be to you ! The best 
 and happiest day of your life. The day that you 
 might look back upon witii most pleasure, even 
 from a death-bed, and from the eternal world. 
 Will you then, in God's strengtli, determine to 
 make early religion your first concern? and ne- 
 ver more to refuse the Saviour's grace ? If you 
 will, seek help from God in fervent prayer ; com- 
 mit your soul to Jesus ; and then how happily 
 will you ere long enter endless blessedness, when 
 
320 BLESSINGS OF DECIDED PIETY 
 
 this vain and inconstant, world, this deceitful and 
 fleeting life, have passed away forever. Then how 
 Iiappy will you be a hundred years hence, when 
 otliers are as husv about this world, and you are 
 quite forgotten ; and your very tombstone hard- 
 ly to be read by passing travellers. Then, in 
 what inconceivable blessedness will your happy 
 spirit dwell, long after not " one wretched trace" 
 remains of the hand that has written, or the eye 
 that reads. — Choose but religion. Give yourself 
 to Christ, and life or death will be equally a pri- 
 vilege, Your last sigh will then be a forerunner 
 of eternal praise; your last pang of eternal rap- 
 tures; and the paleness of death will be seen on 
 your countenance, but a moment before the glo- 
 ries of eternal life. Yet a few years, and you, 
 if you know the Saviour's grace, shall experience 
 a far more transporting change than any heart 
 can conceive. O, could we see what thirty or 
 forty years will discover, it might then be seen 
 what are the effects upon your heart, of this little 
 book. It might then be known who chose the 
 happy, who the wretched part. Young as you 
 may be, yet a few years and this will be known. 
 O, flee to Jesus. Choose religion Then will 
 your life be blessed ; your death ha})py ; your 
 eternity glorious. Remember that this is the 
 most important choice you can ever be called to 
 make. On this it depends whether life shall be 
 a blessing or a curse; — yourself an angel or a 
 devil — God a friend or an enemy; — .Jesus a 
 kind Saviour, or a dreadful Judge; — heaven 
 your home, or hell your prison; — praise your 
 sweet delight, or cursings and blasphemy your 
 dreadful employment; — angels and <^lorified 
 saints your beloved associates, or devils and the 
 
IMPORTANCE OF THE CHOICE. 321 
 
 damned your horrid companions ; — Satan a 
 vanquished enemy, or a horrid tormentor. May 
 the God of heaven lea^ you to seek your happi- 
 ness in the Lord Jesus and himself! if you have 
 made early religion your choice, may he lead 
 you forward to the promised crown ; and if you 
 are not a partaker of that best of blessiuirs, even 
 now may he soften your heart to penitence, and 
 direct you to his crucified Son ; and thus, at 
 length, bring- you to that blessed world, where 
 hope shall be exchanged for happiness ; faith for 
 sight ; grief for gladness ; danger for safety ; 
 death for life ; and where, to complete all, saints 
 will be for ever with the Lord. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 TWENTY OBJECTIONS TO EARLY PIETY BRIEFLY 
 STATED AND ANSWERED. 
 
 Perhaps, my young friend, you feel that reli- 
 gion is important; but would be excused from 
 attending to it at present. Perhaps you strength- 
 en this disinclination, by some of those objections 
 to early religion which abound in this corrupt 
 world. Permit me to enumerate a few of these, 
 and to give them a plain though serious answer. 
 
 Objection 1. I am but young; I have time 
 enough yet ; I do not mean to put religion off for 
 ever ; but why should 1 begin with it so soon ? 
 
 Answer. Young as you are, you are not too 
 young to die ; nor if you die in sin, are you too 
 young to be lost for ever. Young as you are, 
 were you to die with only one of your youthful 
 sins upon you, that one would sink you to de- 
 struction. Young as you are, you are not too 
 
322 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 young- 10 be called to meet your God, to stand at 
 his judgment-bar, and to be fixed in heaven or 
 liell for ever. In G. Britain, alone, it is com- 
 puted, that nearly seven thousand persons die 
 every week; numbers of these are the young; 
 and while so many graves are opening every day, 
 may not one soon be opened lor you? Why 
 should you promise yourself that you shall see 
 old age, when so few comparatively reach it ? 
 But if you should, "he that in his youth reckons 
 it too early to be converted, in his old age may 
 find it too late to be saved." Few, repent in age. 
 Who are the irreligious crowds that throng our 
 towns and country, but those who neglect God 
 while young? It is a dreadful fact, that few turn 
 to God in age ; enough to guard the aged from 
 despair ; but so i'ew as to warn the young, not 
 to expect to be made partakers of grace and glo- 
 ry, unless brought to Christ in youth. 
 
 Obj. 2. I see many, older than myself, follow- 
 ing the world ; why should not I do so too ? 
 
 Ans. Because if they choose destruction, you 
 should not choose it with them. If they abuse 
 the mercies of God, and heap up wrath agamst 
 the day of wrath, you should not do the same. 
 If yon saw some aged neighbours taking- the way 
 that would lead them to prison and the gallows, 
 you would not say, " They ought to kno\y better 
 than I, why should I not follow them ?" And if 
 you see hoary-headed sinners, that have served 
 the devil all their days, serving him still, why 
 then would you make their desperate madness 
 a reason for giving your youth to the devil? 
 God will not inquire of you what they did, but 
 what you did. If your friends, if your relatives, 
 are all the servants of sin, O ! be ambitious to be 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 323 
 
 \^he first in your family, that shall find the way 
 to heaven. Pray for them ; perhaps some of 
 them may follow ; but if they should not, it is 
 better to go to heaven without ungodly relatives, 
 than to go to hell with them. 
 
 Okj. 3. Perhaps, my young friend, such is your 
 humble lot in life, that you have to object, 
 
 I am poor, and possess but little knowledge. 
 I work hard all the week, and if I do not make 
 Sunday a day of recreation, I can never take my 
 pleasure. I see too my superiors in riches and 
 knowledge, giving themselves little concern about 
 religion, then why should I mind it ? 
 
 ^ns. You should regard religion as your chief 
 concern, because you are not to follow the exam- 
 ple of the great and the noble, but that of the 
 blessed Saviour, who was in this world a man of 
 poverty and sorrows. You are told, in his word, 
 "that not many wise men after the flesh, not many 
 mighty, not many noble are called ;" and that ifc 
 is " the poor" that "have the gospel preached to 
 them." Tbey often hear it gladly, when the rich 
 and great scorn and neglect it. And though you 
 may have no day for recreation except the Sab- 
 bath, yet what will be the end of that pleasure, 
 which is gained by profaning that holy day ? It 
 will be everlasting bitterness and despair. Is not 
 vour soul worth more than your body ? and end- 
 less ages than a few short sorrowful years ? If 
 you knew the pleasures of religion, you would 
 think "a day in God's house better than a thou- 
 sand" days of mirth elsewhere ; and though you 
 may be poor in this world, would find that de- 
 light in prayer and communion with God, which 
 you never found in all your sinful sabbath-break- 
 ing pleasures; and which those of the great and 
 
324 OlUECTlONS TO EARLY 
 
 noble, that know not God, never obtained from 
 all their riches and honours. 
 
 Obj. 4. Religion it is true is important; but 
 this is not to me a suitable season for following 
 it : when I have a convenient time I intend to in- 
 quire for the ways of God. 
 
 .^ns. And what lime will be more convenient 
 than the present ? Will it be so when the cares 
 and burdens of the world, or perhaps of a young 
 and rising family, are prt^ssing on you ? Will it 
 be so, when the pains of disease and the lan- 
 guors of sickness are overpowering all your fa- 
 culties? or when the intirmities of age make the 
 grasshopper a burden ? Ah no. Least of all will 
 it be so when you come to die. Often have 1 
 lieard the sick and dying declare, that if they 
 had not sought the Lord before, they could not 
 have sought him then. But perhaps you think 
 that as life advances, your appetite for sensual 
 pleasures will grow less; and that you shall em. 
 brace religion with less difficulty then than now. 
 Alas ! you are dreadfully deceived. " You might 
 as well expect to drown a fish by putting it into 
 water, as to extinguish sensual desires by follow 
 ing sensual delights." If you could scarcely cure 
 a cold, would you expect to cure it when become 
 a confirmed consumption ? If it be hard for a 
 captive to break a single chain, will it be easy foi 
 him to escape when loaded with more than dou- 
 ble fetters ? So conversion is made more diffi- 
 cult by delay. Think then of no more conveni- 
 ent time. None can be more so ; all will be less 
 so than the present. Remember, Felix said, 
 "Go thy way for this time, when I have a 
 convenient season, I will call for thee;" but that 
 coDvetiient season never came, and Felix 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 325 
 
 was undone. God tells you of no season more 
 convenient than the present. "Now/' says his 
 word, " is the accepted time, behold, now is the 
 day of salvation." 
 
 Obj. 5. I might attend to religion, but I have 
 little leisure, and have much else to attend to. 
 
 Ans. O my young friend ! whatever else you 
 may have to mind, the salvation of your soul 
 should be your lirst concern. If you were sure 
 of gaining a crown and a kingdom ; what would 
 this be compared with gaining a crown of glory, 
 and an endless life of blessedness in heaven? 
 To enjoy this, and escape the damnation of hell, 
 is often thousand times more consequence to you, 
 than to gain the whole world, if you were sure you 
 could do it. The apostle Paul counted all things 
 loss that he might win Christ ; nor does he now 
 repent of his choice. Would a dying man say, 
 ** I have so much else to mind, that I cannot 
 find leisure to take the medicines, that, under 
 God, may raise me from this bed of sickness ?" 
 Would a condemned criminal say, "1 have so 
 much business to attend to, that I cannot and 
 time to apply for my pardon, or to accept it if 
 offered ?" And shall a perishing sinner say, " 1 
 have no leisure to escape from hell and seek for 
 heaven?" What will all your studies, or la- 
 bours, or cares come to if your soul be iost ? 
 You would think a condemned criminal dis- 
 tracted, who would eagerly attend to other 
 things, and slight the pardon offered him, though 
 the hour of execution might be at hand. You 
 would say to him, " Secure your life first, then 
 you may follow other concerns with comfort.'* 
 But what is the loss of life compared with the 
 loss of the soul ? What is the folly of the man 
 28 
 
326 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 who might trifle in view of the gallows, com- 
 pared with his who trifles on the edge of hell ? 
 Secure your soul first: Seek first the kingdom 
 of God and his righteousness, and all other 
 things will be added unto you. Mind this one 
 great business. Let that one work be done, with- 
 out which you are undone for ever ; and then 
 you may comfortably attend to the other busi. 
 ness of life. Delay is injustice to the God of 
 heaven ; and insulting treatment to his holy Ma- 
 jesty, to put off attending to what he enjoins, 
 while you are busied with mere worldly trifles. 
 If ten thousand pounds and a fine estate were 
 offered you, would you say, "I have too much 
 else to mind, to think of this offer now ?" And 
 when God offers you Christ, and salvation, and 
 heaven, will you neglect a Saviour, and everlast- 
 ing blessings, for things, for which 3'ou would 
 not neglect a few hundred pounds or shillings, if 
 offered by a fellow creature ? 
 
 Obj. G. T see no need of such strictness ; and 
 cannot think it necessary to make so much ado 
 to get to heaven. 
 
 Ans. You are by nature corrupt and blind, 
 and it is not what you may see, but what the 
 eternal God declares,that should be your guide. 
 Your Judge will not inquire at last whether you 
 fancied it right to be in earnest in seeking the 
 kingdom of God, but whether you listened to his 
 decisions. He says " strive to enter in at the 
 strait gate Labour for the meat which endur- 
 eth to everlasting life." You think probably 
 that a little formal religion will be sufficient, but 
 he says to such, " Thou hast a name that thou 
 livest and art dead ; I know thy works, that thou 
 art neither cold nor hot : because thou art luke- 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 327 
 
 warm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee 
 out of my mouth." If you speak of making too 
 much ado about reli^^ion, will you stand to your 
 own words at last ? Will you say on your death- 
 bed, that the most prayerful and religious per- 
 son that ever lived, was too earnest in getting to 
 heaven ? Do saints in glory, think they made 
 too much ado to get there ? and that they might 
 have reached it as well with less care and pains? 
 Do lost souls in hell, now think, as they once 
 did, that heaven was not worth so much care 
 and thought ? Do they think you can make too 
 much ado to flee from the everlasting burnings? 
 O, could you see that world, to which you are 
 hastening; could you know what it is to stand 
 before the eternal God, and hear your sentence 
 from his lips ; and could you taste but for one 
 short hour the joys of the blest, or the miseries 
 of the damned ; you would think no care, and 
 labour, and pains, and diligence could be enough, 
 in making your own salvation sure. Then if you 
 saw saints, as eminent as Paul himself, around 
 you, you might say to them, "O, how slow is 
 your progress ! how formal your prayers I how 
 cold your zeal and love, to what theirs should 
 be, who have such an eternity before them !" 
 
 Obj. 7. I love the pleasures of the world; and 
 when should I enjoy them except in youth ! I 
 cannot give them up. 
 
 Ans. But has not God declared, tnat living 
 in pleasure is being dead while we live P 1 Tim. 
 5, 6. What will the end of your delights be? 
 The pleasures of the world end in bitterness and 
 gall. Often do they leave a sting behind even 
 here, and will sting the guilty soul with ever- 
 lasting remorse hereafter. The paths of worldly 
 
328 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 pleasure conduct to endless pain. Remember 
 that unhappy lover of pleasure, whom the Lord 
 describes, in Luke, 16. He loved the delights 
 of the world, and had them too; but died and 
 awoke in helh Ah, dismal end of a pleasant 
 course! How short, how wretched is that plea- 
 sure, which ends in such bitter and eternal sor- 
 row ! And cannot you give up the sinful de- 
 lights of a foolish world ? you must give them 
 up, or must lose your soul. If you will not 
 part with them now, you must at last part with 
 them all, and lose God and Christ, and heavenly 
 glory for them. If you choose them as your 
 poition, remember you choose damnation with 
 them. 
 
 Obj. 8. I might follow religion ; tut it is such 
 a melancholy thing, that I fear it would destroy 
 all the comfort of my life. 
 
 Ans. My young friend, what is real religion ? 
 Is it not the knowledge of God ? and the enjoy- 
 ment of his love and favour ? This constitute* 
 the happiness of angels. And is that which 
 makes them happy, a melancholy thing ? How 
 you condemn yourself, and prove yourself to 
 have a carnal mind which in enmity against God 
 while you look on his service and love, as a source 
 of gloom and dissalistaction ! But while you 
 think religion melancholy, it is dreadfully plain 
 that you are not fit for the enjoyment of heaven, 
 where every pleasure is religious. AVho are 
 they that charge religion as unhappy? Are 
 they those who have tried what comforts it can 
 afford? No; they will tell you, they never 
 knew what comfort was, till they found it in the 
 paths of peace and piety. Who is it then ? It 
 is a poor, foolish, distracted world ; that speaks 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 329 
 
 evil of what it knows not. Would you believe 
 a thief, that might be extolling the advantages 
 of robbery, and representing honesty as contemp- 
 tible and mischievous? And why will you be- 
 lieve a world that is at enmity with God, when 
 it extols the way of destruction, and represents 
 the path of piety as base and contemptible? 
 
 It is true the most pious Christians have some 
 sorrows peculiar to themselves ; but their sorrows 
 spring, not from the religion they possess, but 
 from the want of more ; and even in their tears 
 of humble grief, there is more true satisfaction, 
 than in the foolish laughter and noisy merriment 
 of the sons of pleasure. 
 
 It is true also, that such an exercise of mind 
 as deep repentance, may embitter some of the 
 first parts of their way, who are turning from the 
 world to God. But is it not better to be trou- 
 bled lor sin here than in hell ? Is it not better 
 to re[.ent of sin in time, than to grieve for it to 
 eternit/? To feel even the bitterest pangs of 
 penitent.' al sorrow for days or weeks in this 
 world, thc.n burdened with sin to lie in misery 
 for ever anv\ ever ? 
 
 Obj. 9. I cannot embrace religion, for all my 
 companions a^'e averse to it; and were I to 
 follow it, I must lose the friendship of them all. 
 
 Ans. Yes, if you follow religion, you must 
 come out from the ivorld, and be separate from 
 them; and if they will not forsake the ways of 
 sin, you must forsake them. But io their love 
 to you so great, tnat you should ruin your soul 
 on their account? Are you not grieving and 
 losing better friends while you are pleasing 
 them? They did not make you an immortal 
 being. They have not crowned vour life with 
 28* 
 
330 OBJECTIONS TO EARLT 
 
 comforts. It is your God that has done this ; 
 and will you slight your God for them ? They did 
 not redeem you. No one of them has groaned, 
 and wept, and hungered, and thirsted, and bled, 
 and died for you ; but this, the Lord has done ; 
 and will you prefer them to him ? No one of 
 them can cheer you in sickness ; comfort you in 
 death ; make even the gloomy grave the passage 
 to eternal day ; befriend you when help is need- 
 ed most ; and welcome your departed soul to 
 glory and to God : but all this the Lord would 
 do ; and should not you prefer him and his 
 friendship to theirs ? If they can make up to 
 you the loss of a Saviour ; if they can give you 
 a place in heaven ; and save you from the pit of 
 destruction ; then cleave to them. You know 
 they cannot: if now companions in sin, unless 
 you or they repent, you will soon be compa- 
 nions in hell. 
 
 Obj. 10. Religion would expose me to the 
 scorn and ridicule of my companions and friends. 
 
 Ans. And what is the ridicule you fear? Is 
 it so serious an evil, that to avoid it you should 
 run into perdition ? Were not the blessed Savi- 
 our and his apostles scorned and derided by the 
 world ? Was not he insulted with profane mock- 
 ings, even in his dying moments ? And did he 
 endure such contempt for you, and will you re- 
 fuse to endure a little contempt and derision for 
 him ? But if you are afraid of following Christ 
 lest you should be luup^hed at, think which is 
 worst, the silly laugh of dying men, or the eter- 
 nal frown of the eternal God. Will you choose 
 the last for the sake of missing the first P Is it 
 not better to enter the way to heaven, though all 
 the world were to deride and despise you for do- 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 331 
 
 kig so, than to take the way to hell, though all 
 the world were to applaud your choice ? Will 
 you, to avoid the scorner's laugh, lose God, and 
 Christ, and glory ? Surely, if you do, angels may 
 pity, and devils deride such folly. 
 
 Obj. 11. Whatever advantages may flow from 
 religion, yet it has many difficulties. 
 
 Ans. And has not sin its difficulties, and its 
 sorrows too ? Is not the way of transgressors of- 
 ten hard? and always ruinous ? If religion bids 
 us sacrifice much, does not sin lead many to sa- 
 crifice more ? Do not youthful lusts hurry some 
 to the gallows, and multitudes to the grave? 
 How many do they sink from plenty to begga- 
 ry! On how many others do they entail infa- 
 my or disease, where health might have been en- 
 joyed ! How many sleepless nights and painful 
 days do they occasion ! How many fears lest se- 
 cret sins should come to light ! and how many 
 contrivances to conceal from detection, those 
 crimes which lie open in the sight of God ! Do 
 the lewd, and the drunken, and extravagant, find 
 no difficulties attendant on their crimes? Yes, 
 my young friend, such are the difficulties of the 
 ways of sin, that it often ruins reputation and 
 health ; blasts every pleasing hope ; destroys the 
 body, and damns the soul. Many have suffered 
 martyrdom for Christ ; but where one has been 
 a martyr for religion, thousands have been, in ef- 
 I'ect, martyrs to sin. Excess in iniquity has short- 
 ened their days ; and they have sacrificed their 
 all in this world, and in that which is to come. 
 And though religion may have some difficulties, 
 yet it is easier to overcome these, than to be lost 
 lor ever ; especially as grace and strength from 
 God and Christ are promised ; and as the far- 
 
332 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 ther any one p^oes in the ways of relig:ion, the ea- 
 sier they will become. In a little while too all 
 the Christian's trials will cease. A few days or 
 years are the moment for his conflict, but eterni- 
 ty the measure of his rest. 
 
 Obj. 12. Though I may not have just such ii 
 religion as you recommend, yet I have more than 
 many round aboyt me. I see some that go not 
 to a place of worship once a year, while I attend 
 one frequently, and I hope I shall fare better 
 than they. 
 
 Ans. If many have not even the outward forms 
 of piety, and you have nothing but those forms, 
 you are only taking a different road to the s'ame 
 wretched abode as they. If they choose destruc- 
 tion in one way. you should not choose it in ano- 
 ther. You will not be judged by comparison 
 with them. The Lord declares "you must be 
 born again." He does not merely say you must 
 excel your ungodly neighbours, or never enter 
 eternal rest, but, ''Verily, verily, I say unto thee. 
 Except a man be born of water and of the Spi- 
 rit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. Mar- 
 vel not that I say unto thee. Ye must be born 
 again." If you go on in your negligent course, 
 will it comfort you, when cast into hell, to think, 
 that you fare as well as those ungodly creatures 
 that may be perishing by thousands round you? 
 Whatever others are, let it be your concern to be 
 a Christian in sincerity ; and whatever others do, 
 let it be your tirst business to make sure of the 
 kingdom of heaven. 
 
 Obj. 13. It is true, I have not much religion, 
 but I hope to repent at last. The thief on the 
 cross in his last extremity found mercy ; and 
 
 John, iii. 5-7. 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 333 
 
 why should I despair ? They who went at the 
 eleventh hour received as much, every man his 
 penny, as they who were called at the first. 
 
 Ans. It is true God is merciful, but he is also 
 just. Now is the day of mercy, and now he says, 
 **Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un- 
 righteous man his thoughts ; and let him return 
 unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, 
 and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." 
 But his word discourages their presumptuous 
 hope, who neglect him now hoping to find mer- 
 cy at last. " Then shall they call upon me, but 
 I will not answer ; they shall seek me early but 
 they shall not find me." As for the case of the 
 thief on the cross, his situation was peculiar; he 
 hung dying by the Lord of life ; and God at that 
 hour would glorify his Son. You can never be 
 placed in his situation, and therefore have no 
 ground from it to hope for mercy at last. It 
 would be more reasonable for you to expect a 
 translation to heaven without dying, because 
 Enoch and Elijah thus went to glory, than it is 
 to hope for God's mercy on your death-bed, be- 
 cause the dying thief was pardoned. You read 
 in the word of God of two that went thus to hea- 
 ven ; but from the creation of the world to the 
 death of Christ, a period of above four thousand 
 years, you read but of one who found mercy in 
 the hour of death. As for a hope of heaven, be- 
 cause those who went at the eleventh hour were 
 admitted, it is a hope founded on delusion. Even 
 if the parable were to be thus interpreted, it 
 would afford no encouragement for delay. For 
 they who went at the eleventh hour, went as soon 
 as they were called. Therj were not called till the 
 
 Isa. 1\.7. Prov. i. 28. 
 
334 oiUf.r'noNr, ro kari.y 
 
 eleventh; and listened as soon as they were; but 
 you are called now. The clay was not quite gone 
 with them ; they had one hour to labour lor their 
 Lord ; but you on a sick-bed would have none. 
 Nevertheless, it is proper to add, that the para- 
 ble is wholly misinterpreted when thus applied. 
 That the reward mentioned does not mean the 
 blessings of eternity, is extremely evident from 
 ver. 1 1 and 15 ; where some are represented as 
 murmuring, and as having that evil, or malignant 
 eye, which is the effect of an envious temper; but 
 such murmurings and dispositions will not be 
 found among the blessed ; and consequently the 
 parable has no reference to their future state. 
 The 16th ver. also speaks of many as being re- 
 jected. But this will not be the case of any, that 
 receive the promised crown. The intent of the 
 parable seems briefly this : the early labourers 
 denote the Jews, who were soon called into the 
 vineyard of God ; the latter ones, the Gentiles, 
 who were called much later to the enjoyment of 
 spiritual privileges and blessings ; and the mur- 
 muring of those called soon into the vineyard, 
 expresses the malignant murmurings of the Jews, 
 when the Gentiles were called to partake of equal 
 privileges with themselves. Many instances of 
 this envious disposition are recorded in the New 
 Testament. 
 
 Obj. 14. Would you have me believe that all 
 are going to destruction, who are not acquaint- 
 ed with that divine change in which you state 
 religion to consist? Few seem to know any 
 thing of that ; are few only to be saved ? 
 
 Ans. My young friend, this is not what I 
 would make you believe, but what the eternal 
 Judge declares. He assures you that his Jlock 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 336 
 
 is small ; that the way of life is narrow, and but 
 few travellers in it. His word says, " If any man 
 he in Christ, he is a new creature ; old things are 
 passed away ; behold, all things are become 
 new." " Verily I say unto you, except ye be 
 converted, and become as little children, ye shall 
 not enter into the kingdom of heaven ;" " Ma- 
 ny are called, but few are chosen." Numbers 
 are no proof of safety. God's judgments will 
 not be turned aside, because the number that 
 choose ruin is great. " The wicked shall be turn- 
 ed into hell, and all the nations that forget 
 God." If nations are unacquainted with religion 
 together, together they must perish. Numbers 
 perished in Sodom for one that escaped. Hun- 
 dreds of thousands of the Israelites died in the 
 desert, for one that reached the promised land. 
 Millions perished in the deluge, for one that was 
 Kaved in the ark. 
 
 Obj. 15. There are so many different kinds of 
 religions among Christians, that I hardly know 
 which to choose. 
 
 Ans. And would you therefore choose none? 
 But you mistake : among real Christians there 
 neither is, nor ever was more than one religion. 
 -All that are Christians in sincerity, though they 
 may vary in some minor points, unite in the 
 most important. Tliey all believe in repentance 
 toivards God: and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ: 
 he is the only Saviour to whom they all look. 
 'J'hey all are born again by the Spirit of God. 
 They all live to the glory of God ; and walk in 
 the ways of holiness. They all lay up their trea- 
 sures in heaven; and, as pilgrims, go through this 
 
 J.nke, xii. 32. Matt vii. 14. 2 Cor. v. 17. Matt, xviii. 3 ; xxii. 14. 
 J'slani, ix. 17. 
 
336 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 world aspiring to a better. In this world per- 
 sons wear clothes of different colours, or a differ- 
 ent shape, who all possess similar limbs, and 
 a similar form. They speak different lanc^uages ; 
 and have been born in different lands ; but they 
 all belong to the same race; all are descended 
 from the same parents. So in religion, true Chris- 
 tians may be distinguished by a vartety of smaller 
 differences, but they are all related to the same 
 Parent ; they are all begotten again by the same 
 Spirit. An army may have many regiments, 
 and these composed from different nations, and 
 wearing different uniforms; but the same leader 
 guides them ; they form but one army still. En- 
 list, my young friend, into the army of the Sa- 
 viour ; and as to the particular regiment to which 
 you should attach yourself, make his word your 
 guide. In other words, embrace religion, and 
 let the scriptures teach you what denomination 
 of real Christians to join. 
 
 Obj. 16. I have heard of so many crimes com- 
 mitted by persons who professed religion, that 
 I am disposed to think all who make such a 
 stir about religion are alike, and are hypocrites 
 at heart. 
 
 Jns. What if they were ; would that set aside 
 death and judgment, to which you hasten ? 
 Would it unmake heaven and hell, one of which 
 must be your eternal dwelling ? Would it ren. 
 der the favour of God less valuable, or his anger 
 less dreadful ? Would it excuse your neglect of 
 him ? You are not to answer for them, but for 
 yourself. But perhaps the crimes that have giv- 
 en you disgust, were those of persons, sincere in 
 heart, but unhappily drawn, in an unguarded mo- 
 ment, into sin, which has since cost them many 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 337 
 
 a week of bitter grief. Now if this were the case, 
 should their unhappy fall be a reason with you 
 to neglect your God? Should you cut your 
 throat because they have cut a finger ? If you 
 saw a man slip his foot into the sea, would you 
 make that a reason for throwing yourself head- 
 long, with a millstone round your neck, into the 
 mighty deep ? O, do not then, because some, in 
 the main sincere, may by sin have wounded their 
 own souls, cast yours into the pit of edfemal per- 
 dition. 
 
 Obj. 17. If God have elected me to eternal life, 
 I shall be saved, and if he have not, it is in vain 
 for me to give myself any concern respecting it 
 
 Ans. You most probably know that with res- 
 pect to the ground of this objection, there is a 
 wide difference in the opinions of those that re- 
 ally love Ihe Lord Jesus Christ. Nor is it your 
 business to trouble yourself with inquiries into 
 the decrees of God, but to listen to what he en- 
 joins ; and he now commandeth ALL men eve- 
 ry WHERE to repent. God's foreknowledge as 
 much extends to all the concerns of this world, 
 as to the state of souls in that which is to come. 
 But what would you think of the farmer who 
 might say, " I will not sow my fields; if God de- 
 sign me a harvest, I shall have it." Or of a man 
 fallen into the sea, who might say, "I will not 
 get out ; if God have decreed that I shall not be 
 drowned, he will take me out.'* You would not 
 argue, " I will take no food ; and though I am 
 but twenty, if God have decreed that I shall live 
 to sixty, I shall live as v/ell without it as with 
 it." Do not then let Satan delude you to neg- 
 lect an mimortal soul by an excuse so frivolous 
 
 „,, Acts, xvii. 30. 
 
338 OBJECTIONS TO EARLY 
 
 and foolish, that you would not, for the same, de- 
 ny your perishing body even the food of a single 
 day. Without inquiring into the secret things 
 of God, remember these are his decrees, " He 
 that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved ; 
 but he that believeth not shall be damned.'* 
 " Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and 
 drink his blood, ye have no life in you." " He 
 that believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life ; 
 and he tm.t believeth not tb,e Son, shall not see 
 life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him.'* 
 "Except ye repent^ ye shall all likewise perish." 
 
 Obj. 18. I do not see that early reli^^ion comes 
 to much : many that once professed it have for- 
 saken it, and become worse than ever. 
 
 Ans. You must be sadly blinded by ignorance, 
 prejudice, and sin, if you do not perceive that it 
 is early piety which is commonly the most emi- 
 nent, even in the present world. Some instan- 
 ces of this were mentioned in chapter 9, ana ma- 
 ny might be added ; for most who adorn religion 
 are converted young. It is true, a young hypo- 
 crite may prove an old apostate. If men in youth 
 wear religion as a form or mask, they will proba- 
 bly cast it aside ; and then be more profligate 
 than ever. One devil might appear to have left 
 them, but stven to have taken possession of them : 
 but not thus is it with the possessors of real, 
 youthful piety. Their path is that of the just, 
 shining more and more unto the perfect day. 
 
 Obj. 19. But I do not believe that God will be 
 so strict as he is represented. Nor do I believe 
 that he will be off"ended with me for following 
 ray pleasures, and gratifying the inclinations of 
 the nature he has given me. 
 
 Mark, XTJ. 10. John, vi. 53. iii. 36. Luke,xi»> ^. 
 
PIETY ANSWERED. 339 
 
 Ans, So then your objections come to infideli- 
 ty at last. You do not believe what God de- 
 clares ; for he in his own word represents himself 
 thus righteously strict ; he there assures you that 
 the end of a life of vanity is eternal death. You 
 do not believe God, but listen to the tempter in 
 preference to him. Thus was the world at first 
 ruined. The tempter said to our parent, "Ye 
 shall not surely die." The lie was believed, and 
 they were undone. As for following- the incli- 
 nations of your nature, you might safely do so, 
 if your nature were what it w.as, when man came 
 from his Creator's hands : then were his dispo- 
 sitions holy ; but now your nature is corrupt and 
 fallen ; its dispositions earthly, sensual, and devil- 
 ish. The heart is deceitful above all things, and 
 desperately wicked, as is shown Chap. 2. § 4. It 
 would be as safe for a man, in a fit of raging mad- 
 ness, to follow the suggestions of his disordered 
 mind, as for you, in your fallen state, to follow 
 those of corrupt nature. 
 
 Obj. 20. After all that can be urged, I am de- 
 termined not to relinquish my pleasures, and be- 
 come a poor melancholy creature. I will ven- 
 ture eternity. I will have my own way. 
 
 Ans. Alas ! if these are your feelings, rt is your 
 own way, and the downward road; it is not 
 God's, nor will it lead you to him. But if you 
 have your way, depend upon it, by and by he 
 will have his. You have your day of sin, and 
 your Judge will have his day of retribution. 
 And what will you do in that day of visitation ! 
 
340 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE YOUNG READER FURTHER URGED TO MAKE NO 
 DELAY IN GIVING HIMSELF UP TO GOD. 
 
 §.1. It is related, that a pious minister of the 
 17th century, having finished pra5'er, observed a 
 young- gentleman just shut into one of the pews, 
 who discovered much uneasiness, and seemed 
 to wish to get out. again. The minister felt a 
 peculiar desire to detain him, and turning to- 
 wards one of the members of his church, who 
 sat in the gallery, he asked him aloud — " Bro- 
 ther, do you repent of your coming to Christ ?'* 
 " No, Sir," he replied : " I never was happy till 
 then : I only repent that I did not come to him 
 sooner." The minister turned towards the op- 
 posite gallery, and addressed himself to an aged 
 member. — " Brother, do you repent that you 
 came to Christ?" "No, Sir," said he : "I have 
 known the Lord from my youth up." He then 
 looked down upon the young man, whose atten- 
 tion was fully engaged, and, fixing his eyes up- 
 on him, said, " Young man, are you willing to 
 come to Christ?" This unexpected address from 
 the pulpit, exciting the observation of all, so af- 
 fected him, that he sat down and hid his face. 
 The person who sat next him encouraged him 
 to rise, and answer the question. The minister 
 repeated it — " Young man, are you willing to 
 come to Christ?" With a tremulous voice he 
 replied, " Yes, Sir." " But ichcn, Sir ?" added 
 the minister, in a solemn and loud tone. He 
 mildly answered, "Now, Sir." "Then stay," 
 
INTERESTING ANECDOTE. 341 
 
 said he, '''and hear the word of God, which you 
 will find in 2 Cor. vi. 2 : Behold, now is the ac- 
 cepted time ; behold, NOW is the day of salvation.^* 
 By this sermon he was greatly affected : he went 
 into the vestry, after service, dissolved in tears. 
 That unwillingness to stay, which he had disco- 
 vered, was occasioned by the injunction of his 
 father, who threatened, that, if ever he went to 
 hear the fanatics, he would turn him out of 
 doors. Having now heard, and being unable to 
 conceal t"he feelings of his mind, he was afraid 
 to meet his father. The minister sat down and 
 wrote an affectionate letter to him, which had so 
 good an effect, that both father and mother came 
 to hear for themselves. They were both brought 
 to the knowledge of the truth; and father, mo- 
 ther, and son, were together received with uni- 
 versal joy into the church. 
 
 Does this young man now repent that he lis- 
 tened immediatehj to the message of God ? Far 
 from it. God rewarded his immediate compli- 
 ance, by bringing his parents also to the know- 
 ledge of the truth. 
 
 § 2. Already have you been entreated to make 
 the same choice ; and have you done so ? or are 
 you still for putting it off a little longer ? O ! if 
 you are, be assured that delay is one of the most 
 successful of Satan's infernal stratagems for ru- 
 ining immortal souls ; hell, it is to be feared, is 
 filled with delayers. Multitudes that did not in- 
 tend to live and die neglecting Christ, yet have 
 been persuaded to delay a little longer, and still 
 a little longer, till death overtook them unprepa- 
 red. Not merely then do I beseech you to give 
 your youth to God, but to do so without delay : 
 consider the dreadtul evils of delaying. 
 29* 
 
342 EVILS OF DELAYING 
 
 While you delay, your life is going ; every 
 sabbath leaves you one season of mercy less. 
 Your heart is hardening ; and every day there is 
 less hope of your conversion than there was the 
 day before. While you delay, you are grieving 
 the Spirit of God, and templing him to leave 
 you for ever ; and, if he should, you will be un- 
 done for ever. The oftener he has called, the 
 seldoraer he will call. The oftener you have 
 slighted, or quenched, the impressions he has 
 made on your heart, the less probability there is 
 of your ever partaking of the grace of God. While 
 you delay, you continue in your lost and wretch- 
 ed state ; all your sins are upon you. You lin- 
 ger on the brink of hell. You put off seeking 
 mercy, but cannot put off the approach of judg- 
 ment. Alas ! your judgment lingereth not, and 
 your damnation slumhereth not. You lie down at 
 night with no security that you shall not awake 
 in hell before the morning dawns. You rise in 
 the morning to pursue your business, or your 
 amusements, with no certainty of being out of 
 endless misery when the evening comes. What 
 would you think of a man playing with a weed 
 while drownmg, instead of accepting the help 
 that should snatch him from destruction ? Alas! 
 how ruinous would be his folly ! but, O ! how 
 much more ruinous is yours, while you nut off 
 attending to those things which belong to your 
 everlasting peace ! An hour improved or lost 
 may be to you more than a thousand worlds. 
 
 While you delay, you let Satan have his ends ; 
 it is enough for him, if you will but put oil turn- 
 ing to Christ; for he knows full well, though you 
 forget it, that death will soon put this off for ev. 
 er. Whik you delay, you live without one real 
 
TO EMBRACE RELIGION^ 343 
 
 blessing; you have no hope of glory; no inter- 
 est in God ; no place in heaven. You insult 
 the Most High, who bids you to seek him to- 
 day. You are ungrateful to his beloved Son, 
 ^vho did not delay lo come and die for wretch- 
 ed men, when the appointed time arrived. 
 
 § 3. Consider also that many are eternally 
 shut out of heaven, and eternally shut up in hell, 
 through delaying to turn to God. Some years 
 back, I repeatedly visited an aged man, who 
 was ill. He had spent nearly fourscore years 
 without God in the world ; but then professed 
 
 f)enitence. He unexpectedly grew better, and a 
 ittle space was added to his life ; but apparent- 
 ly added in vain. When his health was restor- 
 ed, he seemed to serve the same hard master 
 again, as he had always served. But illness 
 soon returned ; and it was understood that he di- 
 ed miserably. I knew another person, that 
 seemed much in earnest in inquiring for spirit 
 ual blessings ; but, ah, delay ! after a time he 
 grew careless. God now visited him with a pain- 
 ful affliction. I saw him at that time ; he seem- 
 ed sensible of his sin and folly, and penitent for 
 it. At length divine mercy favoured him once 
 more with health ; but when health returned, the 
 serious impressions of illness, fled away. Again 
 he grew careless of his God. Again he delayed; 
 but, ah ! not for a long period : illness soon re- 
 turned. His soul was filled with distress and 
 misery, and death summoned the unhappy crimi- 
 nal to the bar of his God. Shall I relate an- 
 other anecdote ? A young person called upon 
 an aged man, ill, and hastening to the grave ; 
 the youth spoke of the blessed Saviour and the 
 precious gospel; for a few minutes he listened 
 
344 WICKEDNESS AND INGRATITUDE 
 
 with serious attention, then burst into a flood of 
 tears, and exclaimed, "Ah! my young friend, 
 had I thouo^ht on these things thirty or forty 
 years ago, what a happy man might I now have 
 been, but now (wringing his hands) it is too 
 late ; hell must be my portion for ever." 
 
 "And shall I say, "Tis yet too soon 
 To seek for heaven, or think of death?* 
 
 A flower may fade before 'tis noon. 
 And I this day resign my breath. 
 
 If this rebellious heart of mine 
 
 Despise the gracious calls of Heaven, 
 
 I may be harden'd in my sin, 
 
 And never have repentance given." 
 
 .§ 4. The word of the Most High says, " To- 
 day if ye will hear his voice, harden not youi 
 hearts ;" and that is a most important question 
 " Wilt thou not from this time cry unto me. 
 My Father, thou art the guide of my youth ?" 
 Can you, will you, hesitate to say, " Great God, 
 thou shalt be the guide of mine ?" What ! he- 
 sitate whether to seek God as your Father, or to 
 have no interest in him ! What ! hesitate whe- 
 ther Christ shall be your Saviour, or Satan your 
 tormentor ! whether heaven or hell shall be your 
 inheritance ! whether angels or devils shall be 
 your companions ! If you will delay, consider 
 well what you are about. Try if you can make 
 a memorandum to this effect: "That, having 
 weighed the importance of true religion, you yet 
 resolve to pay it no attention at present ; — that 
 you resolve, for some years more, to plunge 
 deeper and deeper in the service of the devil ; 
 — that though yoar present path conducts to hell, 
 yet that you will not so soon leave the way to hell 
 
OF DELAY. 345 
 
 for thJit to heaven ; — that, though living every 
 day on the goodness of God, you resolve to spend 
 at least some years more in insulting him, in for- 
 getting his love, in abusing his mercies, and in 
 tempting him to cut you down as a cumberer of 
 the ground, to send you to perdition ; — that 
 though the blood of the Saviour was shed to re- 
 deem you, yet that y/3u will spend some years 
 more in all manner of ingratitude to him, and in 
 doing what you can to defeat the end for which 
 he died ; — and that having done all this till, if 
 God spare you, all the best and prime of life is 
 past, that you will then profess to forsake these 
 evil ways ; will declare that you are very sorry 
 for what you have so wilfully done ; and that you 
 then will offer to God the wretched dregs of a life 
 spent in serving the devil." Could you commit 
 to writing such horrid resolutions as these ? If 
 you could not, O ! do not, by your actions what 
 you would not profess by your words ; for, re- 
 member that " actions speak louder than words." 
 § 5. Rather be persuaded this day to cast your- 
 self at the Saviour's feet. Happy then would this 
 day be to you. Happy would be this year. 
 Happy is the day to the condemned criminal, in 
 which he finds forgiveness; but^appier far would 
 be the day to you, that brought you to the bless- 
 ed Jesus for mercy and life ; that led you to him 
 for deliverance from all your soul-destroying 
 sins. Inexpressibly happy would be the day to 
 you, in which God received you as his child, in 
 which Christ and heaven became your own. O ! 
 if this day you would, in sincerity, cry to God, 
 " My Father, thou art the guide of my youth ;" if 
 you would this day look to the Lamb of God, 
 and commit your soul to his care ; long would 
 
34() HAPPY CONSEQUENCES OF 
 
 it be a memorable day to you ; yon might re- 
 member it with pleasure on a sick-bed, in your 
 dying- hour, and in the elernal world. Then, uc 
 some future period of life, you might say, " Alas ! 
 I gave my youth to the world, to sin, and folly, 
 for too many sinful years ! But, O ! I remember 
 the day when God turned my feet into the paths 
 of peace. Blessed day ! it has been the source 
 of a thousand comforts to me. I was a poor, 
 thoughtless creature, but God met with me, and 
 pitied my dying soul." If this, «r any other lit- 
 tle volume like this, were made the means of awa- 
 kening your mind, you might have to add, " With 
 a careless heart I began to read even of those 
 things which belonged to my everlasting peace; 
 })lessed be the name of the Lord that I laid the 
 book down with feelings so different from those 
 w ith which I took it up." 
 
 O, be persuaded now to yield yourself to God ; 
 and then next new-year's-day shall find you 
 walking in the way to heaven, or landed there. 
 In either case, how blessed a change would the 
 j^race of God have made in your condition ! 
 Should you be spared for future years, how hap- 
 py an alteration would it be, though you began 
 the year in sin, long ere it ended, to have found 
 forgiveness for all your sins; — though you be- 
 gan it a child of wrath, before it ended to be a 
 child of God ; — though you began it without any 
 part in one spiritual blessing, ere it ended, to be 
 able to say, " God and all his love, Christ and all 
 the riches of his grace, and all the sweet promises 
 of Scripture, and all the glories of heaven, are 
 mine !" But, perliaps, before even this year shall 
 conclude, your mortal course may finish. If it 
 should do so, and none can tell that it will not. 
 
IMMEDIATELY RECEIVING CHRIST. 347 
 
 how infinitely important is it for you, without an 
 hour's delay, to flee to Christ ; for then, how hap- 
 py a year would even this, though your last year, 
 be to you ! How changed next new-year's-day 
 would your state then appear ! O, happy change ! 
 to have begun the year on earth, and ended it in 
 heaven ; — to have begun it with man, and end- 
 ed it with God ; — to have begun it unacquainted 
 with the ways of peace, and ere the year conclu- 
 ded, to have found the way, have fought the bat- 
 tle, and received the .prize; — to have begun it 
 a thoughtless, prayerless creature; and, before it 
 ended, to have learned to commune with God be- 
 low, and to have begun communion with him 
 above; — to have begun it far from peace, and 
 Christ, and heaven ; and, ere it ended, to have 
 found salvation, and to be a companion of angels 
 and saints in the regions of glory. May the God 
 of all grace make you, from this hour, a child of 
 his own, in and through Christ the Lord ! Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 BRIEF ADDRESSES TO SEVERAL CLASSES OF PER- 
 SONS; AND A FEW DIRECTION.S TO THE YODNfl 
 CHRISTIAN. 
 
 TO THE IRRELIGIOUS CHILDREM OF PIOUS PARENTS. 
 
 § 1. My young friends, much of what has 
 been here said to all, applies with peculiar force 
 to you. You have peculiar privileges ; and your 
 youthful sins are proportionably greater and 
 heavier than those of others. God has laid you 
 under especial obligations to live to him ; and, 
 if you perish, your ruin will be far more dread- 
 
348 ADDRESS TO THE IRRELIGIOUS 
 
 ful than theirs, who have been brought up in 
 the midst of ignorance and sin. Alas ! you 
 have lived in the miast of spiritual privileges ; 
 vet had them all in vain. You have been 
 brought, from your infancy, to the house of God, 
 yet gone there in vain, or worse than in vain ; 
 you are, perhaps, almost hardened in careless 
 neglect of what you have heard so long, to 30 
 little purpose. You have heard of mercy, yet 
 have no part in it. You have heard of heaven, 
 yet have no title to its blessings. You have 
 heard of Jesus, but not sought him as your Sa- 
 viour. You have heard of God, but not chosen 
 him as your Father. Young as you are, for 
 how many years have the prayers of your pa- 
 rents ascended to God for you, but they are not 
 yet answered. For how many years have you 
 seen others coming forward to devote themselves 
 to God, and yet you have not done so. They, 
 who were once the vile and the profligate, enter 
 the kingdom of God ; but you go not in. You 
 have probably seen many, who had not sat un- 
 der the gospel a quarter of the time that you have 
 done, forsaking the world to follow Jesus. You 
 have probably seen many that had been brought 
 up in the abodes of ignorance, by parents that 
 are going to destruction, forsaking the way of 
 their parents, to come to Christ ; yet you, with 
 all your privileges — you, nursed as it were, 
 in the house of God — you, whose parents would 
 rejoice to lead you with them in the path to 
 heaven, yet you refuse to go. Are you happy ? 
 Do you not often feel an inward sting? or have 
 you resisted (fod so long, tliat he has left you 
 to hardened hearts? If this be not the case, do 
 not you feel that you are still in an awful state ? 
 
CHILDREN OF PIOUS PARENTS. 349 
 
 Can novels, or vain companions, drive the 
 thoughts of your condition quite away ? Do not 
 you leel that something is wanting? That 
 something is religion. Perhaps you have pious 
 parents in heaven. Would you not join them 
 there ? There is but one way to do so : make 
 their God and Saviour yours. Perhaps your 
 parents are still on earth, sorrowing over their 
 ungodly children. Shall God guide them, and 
 Satan you ? Heaven be their abode, and hell 
 yours ? Will you so live as to be sure, ere long, 
 to lose them for ever? Alas ! you are amongst 
 the most guilty of mankind; and your sins the 
 most inexcusable. Your neglect of Christ is pecu- 
 liarly wicked and dreadful. Your future account 
 iviil be awfully strict, and inexpressibly terrible, 
 when all your abused mercies are brought for- 
 ward in the judgment against you, to show the 
 aggravations of your sins, and to double your 
 condemnation. O ! lay up then a better portion 
 for futurity, than the bitter fruits of such youth- 
 ful sins. When you see those, who have had 
 none of your peculiar advantages, pressing into 
 the kingdom of God, O ! let it stir up you to 
 deplore your past folly, and to enter in at the 
 strait gate. In pity to yourselves, choose reli- 
 gion; have compassion on your own highly. fa- 
 voured souls. You would not make a fellow- 
 creature wretched for a month ; do not, by abus- 
 ing your privileges any longer, make your own 
 souls doubly wretched for eternity. You may 
 be happy; and will you not ? You might glo- 
 rify God, as many, who never had half your 
 privileges, are doing, by lives devoted to him ; 
 and will you not ? O, listen to the persuasions 
 
350 ADDRESS TO CHILDREN OF UNGODLY 
 
 that have been addressed to you! Yield to 
 God, and be happy. 
 
 But, perhaps, you, who read these lines, have 
 felt at times the importance of religion. Once 
 you seemed about to enter the way of life ; yet, 
 alas ! the pleasing hope was blasted, and you be- 
 came careless again. O, once more consider your 
 ways ! After all your awful delays turn to God, 
 and the past shall be forgiven and forgotten. 
 But if you will not, if you will quench the Spirit 
 still, O, remember, though you may forget the 
 tears you shed, the desires you expressed, the 
 impressions you felt, yet God forgets them not. 
 They all stand recorded against you ; and you, 
 hereafter, may feel the truth of the remark, that 
 "slighted convictions are the worst death-bed 
 companions." 
 
 § 2. TO THE CHILDREN OF IRRELIGIOUS PARENTS. 
 
 You, my young friends, have not had all those 
 advantages which many have enjoyed. You, 
 perhaps, have been almost nursed in crimes; 
 and to the evil propensities of your hearts, has 
 been added the fatal influence of their evil ex- 
 ample, who should have taught you better things. 
 Yet, notwithstanding all the guilt of your lives, 
 remember, that God is no respecter of persons ; 
 and, if you listen to his voice, none will he more 
 welcome to his kingdom than you. To have 
 lived so long in the midst of ignorance, has made 
 yours a wretched state. But God is willing to 
 receive you, and to number you with his chil- 
 dren. If you give your youth to Christ, he will 
 not love or bless you the less, because you may 
 not have one friend on earth travelling in the 
 way to heaven. All the blessings promised the 
 
PARENTS — TO SUCH PARENTS. 3ol 
 
 young Christian, you, by coming to Christ, may 
 obtain. Consider not then what your friends or 
 relatives are, but what God would have you be; 
 and what, on a dying bed, you will wish to have 
 been. Perhaps you have to say, "I have been 
 taught to serve Satan, to profane the sabbath, to 
 laugh at religion, and undo my own soul ;" yet, 
 if you have to make this sad complaint, O ! be 
 persuaded to add, "But I will listen to these in- 
 instructions no more. If I cannot take my 
 friends with me to heaven, I will strive to go 
 myself. If I cannot save their souls, I will seek 
 salvation for my own." Many, that like you, 
 have been trained up in vice and folly, have for- 
 saken the paths of sin ; have turned to God ; 
 have honoured religion ; have been distinguish- 
 for their piety on earth ; and shine in glory for 
 evermore. And would not you be like them? 
 you may. Yield yourself to Jesus, and you will. 
 
 § 3. TO IRRELIGIOUS PARENTS.- 
 
 [f the importance of early religion is so great, 
 how much should your affection for your chil- 
 dren, urge upon you to improve every means, 
 for bringing them to a knowledge of it! How 
 great is your guilt while you trifle with your own 
 salvation, and, by your example, teach your chil- 
 dren to trifle with theirs ! Ancient heathens pre- 
 sented their offspring to be burnt alive, as offer- 
 ings to that horrid idol Moloch. And do not 
 you, in reality, act a still more shocking part, if 
 you train up your off'spring, in that way, which 
 will make them slaves to Satan here, and sink 
 them to hell hereafter ? Where is your pity for 
 your children, if you have no pity for their im- 
 mortal souls ? And where is your pity for their 
 
352 BRIEF DlItECTIONS TO 
 
 gouls, if, by your example, you teach ihem to 
 profane the sabbath, and to neglect God, and 
 Christ, and heaven ? You would be filled with 
 horror at the thought of being their destroyers; 
 yet, which, at last, will appear the greater cru- 
 elty, to destroy the bodies of your children, or, 
 by your sinful negligence, to sink to damnation 
 their immortal souls? O, as you love your off- 
 spring, show yourselves their real friends by 
 teaching them to seek the friendship of their God. 
 
 § 4. TO THE TOUMG CHRISTIAN. 
 
 I may now, my young friend, with pleasure 
 address you, who are a partaker of those spiri- 
 tual blessings, which are so vast, that their worth 
 can never be unfolded, except in the realms of 
 everlasting day. Happy are you, and, if faith- 
 ful unto death, you will soon be unspeakably 
 happier. Allow me to suggest to you a little 
 affectionate advice. 
 
 Direciion 1. Be thankful: you have peculiar 
 reason for gratitude. Look around you, and 
 see what multitudes die in sin ! what thousands 
 float down the torrent of iniquity, that bears 
 them to perdition ! And why are not you one 
 of the number? It is the grace of God that has 
 made you to differ. Perhaps you are poor; you 
 are employed in the factory, the fields, or the 
 mill; and many others are employed around 
 you, who are unacquainted with the blessings 
 of religion; and why are not you, like them, 
 poor for both worlds ? Why have you riches 
 that will endure, when those of this world pe- 
 rish ? 
 
 " 'Twas the same Love that spread the feast, 
 Tbat sweetly forc'd you ia ; 
 
YOUNG CHRISTIANS. 353 
 
 Else you had still refus'd to taste, 
 And perish'd iu your sin," 
 
 Perhaps you are placed amidst wealth and 
 splendour, but you have learned to seek more 
 enduring riches. If so, you have double cause 
 for gratitude. Few that are in such circum- 
 stances find the safe, the narrow way. 
 
 Direction 2. Be prayerful. Cherish a spirit 
 of devotion. There can be no religion without 
 prayer. The word of God says, " Pray without 
 ceasing. Be careful for nothing ; but in every 
 thing, by prayer, and supplication, with thanks- 
 giving, let your requests be made known unto 
 God. And the peace of God, which passeth all 
 understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds, 
 through Christ Jesus. Pray to thy Father which 
 is in secret ; and thy Father, which seeth in se- 
 cret, shall reward thee openly. Ask, and it shall 
 be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, 
 and it shall be opened unto you; for every one 
 that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, find- 
 eth ; and to him that knocketh, it shall be open- 
 ed." 
 
 Have stated times for devotion. At the very 
 least, begin and end every day with God. You 
 cannot justly expect to keep religion alive in 
 your heart with less than this. Take time from 
 sleep, sooner than want time for prayer. Watch 
 against formality in your devotions. It is heart- 
 felt, not cold, though studied prayers, that are 
 acceptable to God. Cherish a devotional spirit; 
 and, besides your intercourse with God in stated 
 seasons of prayer, often be looking up to him ; 
 and ever go to him in the name of Jesus. Re- 
 member that, in the hour of prayer, God, in a 
 
 1 Thess. T. 17. Phil. iv. 6, 7. Matt vi. 6; vii. 7, 8. 
 30* 
 
354 DIRECTIONS TO 
 
 peculiar manner, is present with you. Go into 
 your closet or down on your knees, for prayer, 
 with as much reverence as if you beheld the 
 g^reat and blessed God. Could you ascend into 
 heaven, every moniinjjand evening-, to offer your 
 devotions to the Most Hij^h, and then return 
 again to earth, what a life of holiness woula 
 you lead ! what fervent prayers and thanksgiv- 
 ings would you offer ! O ! consider that you are 
 as much before the heart-searching God now as 
 you would be then, and that he as much knows 
 your desires and hears your reqi>3sts, 
 
 JDirection 3. Be humble. " 13e clothed with 
 humility." Wear it as a garment ; let it appear 
 in all your intercourse with God and man. 
 Pride goeth before destruction. Nothing would 
 give Satan more advantage against you than 
 pride. This would make you self-conceited, and 
 unwilling to be reminded of your defects ; and 
 the next step to this is ruin. Remember what 
 you were — a child of wrath; — what you are 
 — a frail, defective creature ; — and what you 
 should be — holy as a saint in heaven — perfect 
 as your Father in heaven is perfect. When you 
 compare yourself with what, according to the de- 
 clarations of the Lord, you ought to be, you may 
 cry out vviih one in former times, "Blessed Je- 
 sus, either these are not thy words, or we are 
 not Christians ;" and, while this is the case, you 
 should chei'ish humility. 
 
 Direction 4. Cleave to Jesua. Make him your 
 all in all. Let his death be your hope, his life 
 your pattern, his promises your encouragement, 
 his precepts your guide. Watch agamst every 
 thing that would lead you to rest your hopes on 
 any foundation, except Jesus crucified. Remem- 
 
YOUNG CHRISTIANS. 355 
 
 ber that you always were, that you still are, and 
 ever will be, at the best, but an unprofitable ser- 
 vant. Keep in mind that the Lord has said. 
 Without me ye can do nothing. Apply to him for 
 strength, and grace, and every good. Consider 
 that you are not your own; that you are not to 
 live to yourself, but to Christ ; and that the gov- 
 erning desire of your heart should be, that the 
 Lord Jesus Christ may be magnified by you, in 
 your life and death. 
 
 Direction 5. Follow holiness, and live to the 
 glory of God. Christianity is a religion all heart 
 and soul ; and you having embraced it betimes, 
 have the best opportunity for exemplifying its 
 power. The slothful servant is a wicked servant. 
 The fruitless tree is a cumberer of the ground. 
 Jesus expects more than the leaves of a fair pro- 
 fession ; he expects the fruits of holiness. When 
 he compares the divine word to seed, he repre- 
 sents it, in his real disciples, as producing thirty, 
 sixty, and even a hundred fold. Though more in 
 some than others, yet much, even where least. 
 You have much to do for the glory of God, for 
 the honour of Christ, for the welfare of others, 
 and the benefit of your own soul. Though your 
 situation should be ever so humble, though you 
 should even have but one talent, yet by the si- 
 lent, but powerful eloquence of a life of constant 
 holiness, you may do much to recommend the 
 gospel 
 
 Direction 6. Improve every help for growing 
 in grace. With this view, attend some place of 
 worship, where the gospel is faithfully preached. 
 Make jjiose your friends who are the friends of 
 
 John, XV. .-i. Phil. i. 20. 1 Cor. Ti. lU, 20. Matt. xxv. 20. 
 
 Luke, xiiL 7. Mark, xi. 13, 14. Matt xiii. 8. 
 
356 DIRECTIONS TO 
 
 Christ, and whose converse and counsel will help 
 you onward to heaven. By all means seek ad- 
 mission into the church of Christ. You have 
 no right to the honourable name of Christian, 
 till you are a member of it. Be not satisfied 
 with merely hearing of Jesus, but confess him ; 
 avow yourself on the Lord's side, and openly 
 take part with his people. Search the scriptures ; 
 read them daily, with prayer, for divine illumi- 
 nation, and the divine blessing. Read such 
 practical works as Baxter's Saint's Rest, Dodd- 
 ridge's Rise and Progress, Freeston's Directions, 
 &c. &c.* 
 
 Direction 7. Live above the world. Consider 
 it your chief business on earth to gk)rify God, 
 and get safe to heaven. Confess yourself a 
 stranger and pilgrim upon earth ; and keep 
 eternity and heaven in view^ Thus strive to 
 entertain no more regard for the world, than you 
 will have for it, when in death yon are leaving 
 it for ever. " Pray, as for eternity ; hear, as for 
 eternity ; live, as for eternity ; obey, and do 
 every thing as for eternity." 
 
 Direction 8. Be faithful unto death. The 
 young followers of Jesus are exposed to so 
 many snares, that, while the aged Christian re- 
 joices over them, he may, excepting over a few 
 who seem to be too firmly rooted to be shaken, 
 rejoice with trembling. Irreligious connexions 
 are among the most fatal snares. Alas ! there 
 is too much truth in the severe observation ; 
 " How few young professors are there, that 
 will not forsake their Christian friends and their 
 
 • A Guide for Young Disciples, by the Author of this book, is espe. 
 cially designed to instruct and animate young Christians in tbeii 
 way to heaven. 
 
YOUNG CHRISTIANS. 357 
 
 Redeemer, for an ungoaly wife or husband." 
 Watch against all the snares that would en- 
 tangle your feet ; and all the fleshly lusts that 
 war against the soul. Keep in view the blessings 
 promised to those who persevere. Wh^n the 
 world tempts you aside, think of Peter's words : 
 " Lord, to whom shall we go F thou hast the 2vords 
 of eternal life .'" I once knew a poor man, who 
 mentioned to me how much happiness he had 
 found in religion, in the early part of his Chris- 
 tian course. Peace with God made his life 
 pleasant. The night and the day were alike 
 cheerful ; and fear and grief fled far from him. 
 But words to this effect were suggested to him, 
 and run in his mind : " What need is there of 
 so much ado about religion ?" For a time he 
 resisted, but at length yielded to the tempter. 
 He went backwards, and Satan triumphed. 
 And now farewell to peace ; his comforts were 
 gone. Distress haunted him ; he could not lie 
 down at night without fear of waking in eternal 
 torments before the morning came. He found 
 it a hitler, as well as a guilty thing to forsake 
 his Redeemer. And, though he was afterwards 
 restored to God, he stated that he did not tind 
 that degree of happiness which he had experi- 
 enced before his fall. Holdfast, then, what thou 
 hast, that no man take thy croimi. 
 
 § 5. A PRAYER FOR THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 
 
 Great and most compassionate God, with what 
 pleasure should I approachthee, since thou hast 
 taught me to call thee my Father, and hast con- 
 descended to become my God. Thy love to me 
 has been as unceasing as the flight of time ; and 
 
 Rev. iii. 11. 
 
358 PRAYER FOR 
 
 O I thou hast taught me to indulge the ecstatic 
 hope, that thou wilt be my portion in a better 
 world, when time, with all its periods, is no more. 
 I bless thee, my God ; I praise thee for what I 
 am, and what I have, and what I hope for. I 
 am, I trust, through thy grace, a child of thine, 
 though once I was thy enemy. For ever be thy 
 love adored, for softening my hard heart, for en- 
 lightening my benighted mind, for leading me 
 to Jesus, and giving me every good in him. O 
 my Father ! the praises of all tho inhabitants of 
 heaven, through ten thousand ages, would not 
 sufficiently extol thy love to me : and alas ! how 
 mean are my feeble offerings. O my Saviour I 
 I owe thee a debt which I shall never be able fully 
 to acknowledge. Train me, O my God 1 for that 
 world, where I shall praise thee in sweeter 
 strains, "while immortality endures." Let me 
 keep that world in view; and lead me forward, 
 till thou shalt fix me safely there. Ever let grati- 
 tude dwell in my heart, and praises flow from 
 my lips. Let prayer, as it is my highest privi- 
 lege, ever be my dear delight. While I am pursu- 
 ing my pilgrimage to eternity, may I daily, and 
 often in the day, hold sweet communion with 
 thee, O Lord. To thee may I flee in every hour 
 of temptation or grief, to tell thee all my heart; 
 and show thyself the hearer of my prayers. Let 
 me be clothed with humility. Let me manifest 
 this grace, in all my intercourse with mankind. 
 May I feel my defects, reach at higher holi- 
 ness, and lie, with a lowly spirit, at the foot of 
 the cross. May I abide in Christ, as the life 
 of my soul, the foundation of my hopes, the 
 source of my comfort, and my all in all. While 
 I trust in his death, may I imitate his life ; and. 
 
A YOUNG CHRISTIAN. 359 
 
 by consistent holiness, adorn the gospel I pro- 
 fess. Let thy word be dear to me. May its trea- 
 sures be hidden in my heart ; and when I search 
 its sacred pages, may it be with a humble, teach- 
 able mind ; and may ihy Spirit deign to be my 
 instructor. May thy house and ordinances be 
 the delight of my soul ; and may I live on earth 
 looking forward, with longing desires, to thy 
 house above. Let me confess myself a stranger 
 upon earth, have my affections set on heaven ; 
 and feel that all which worldly men esteem im- 
 portant, is a trifle to me, who hope soon to ap- 
 pear in thy presence above. My God, for Je- 
 sus's sake grant these blessings, and this one 
 more request: Keep me faithful unto death; 
 and, when I have done and borne thy will here, 
 with robes washed in the blood of Jesus, may I 
 enter thy kingdom, and unite in the triumphal 
 song — Salvation to our God, which sitteth upon 
 the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever ! 
 Amen. 
 
 THB Erin.