LIBRARY 

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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. 



