Lectures to Young People

[airIam2worship]

But you will say, perhaps, that the words "everlasting," "eternal," "forever and ever," &c. do not necessarily imply unlimited duration, as they are sometimes used in scripture in reference to objects whose duration is acknowledged to be limited. To this I reply that, whatever this language may denote in certain cases, the manner in which it is used as descriptive of the punishment of the wicked, precludes the idea of limited duration; for the same language which expresses the duration of the miseries of the wicked—is employed in the very same connection, to express that of the happiness of the righteous; which all acknowledge to be unlimited. "Some shall arise to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." "And these shall go away into everlasting punishment—but the righteous into everlasting life;" the same Greek word being used in the latter case as in the former. Here then is an example of the strongest expressions to be found in the Greek and Hebrew languages, being used by the Spirit of God—and in circumstances in no way liable to exception—to describe the duration of future punishment. The only alternative which these passages suggest is, either that the miseries of the wicked will be strictly eternal—or else that the happiness of the righteous will be limited.

If, however, after all, you choose not to admit the passages already quoted as decisive on this point, there are others not liable to the criticism to which I have referred, and which undoubtedly convey the idea of unlimited duration, if it can be conveyed by human language. Such are the following: "Their worm dies not, and their fire is not quenched." "They shall never see life." "They shall never enter into rest." "It were good for that man if he had never been born." Surely it would have been better for Judas to have been born, if, after suffering millions of ages, he should finally begin an endless career of happiness and glory.

There is yet another test to which the doctrine which I am considering may very properly be referred. I mean its moral tendency: for it requires no argument to prove that that doctrine which removes any of the restraints to sinful indulgence, cannot have God for its author.

cont

[airIam2worship]

Now then I inquire, if there is no punishment, or only a temporary punishment, for the wicked, in a future world—in other words, if virtue and vice are ultimately to find the same level—I inquire what there is to keep a wicked man from any deeds of iniquity to which his inclinations may prompt him—provided only he can escape the eye and the arm of human law?

The wretch whose ruling passion is the love of gold, casts his eye covetously upon your possessions; but they are so guarded that he cannot reach them without shedding your blood. What hinders then, if death be the gate of glory to all—but that, when he has once satisfied himself that he can escape detection, he should draw his dagger and stab you in the dark? Nor is the penalty of human law, upon his principle, greatly to be dreaded, or even dreaded at all; for it is only anticipating a little, a momentary pang, which is after all the harbinger of eternal joy. Is it not then manifestly the tendency of this doctrine is to throw open the flood-gates of iniquity—and to license to the utmost, every corrupt propensity of the heart?

You perceive then, my young friends, that you have most serious difficulties to encounter from reason, scripture, and experience, before you can adopt either scheme of universal salvation. Be not so unwise as to yield to the dictates of mere feeling on this subject. It is a matter, I repeat, to be decided, not by the wishes of men—but by the testimony of God. To this then, as the ultimate source of evidence, be your appeal; and if the doctrine is taught here, that the punishment of the wicked will be eternal, remember that heaven and earth shall sooner pass away—than one jot or tittle of what Jehovah has threatened shall fail of being accomplished!

cont

[airIam2worship]

II. I have now completed the examination which I designed, of some of the more common errors to which young people, at the present day, are exposed: I proceed, secondly,  to suggest some considerations with a view to dissuade you from being found in the way of evil instruction. The wise man, in the text, cautions the young, not merely to avoid giving heed to the instruction of the wicked—but to avoid even hearing it. "Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causes to err from the words of knowledge." The idea clearly is, that you are not to allow yourselves, in any way, to be familiar with corrupt sentiments; neither by reading bad books, nor by listening to the preaching or conversation of bad men.

1. The first consideration which I shall offer, as a REASON why you should not be found in the way of evil instruction, is—that there is great danger that you will embrace the errors with which you thus become acquainted.

This danger results partly from the fact that men naturally love darkness rather than light. Of this fact the history of the world furnishes abundant proof; else how will you account for it, not only that men in all ages have misinterpreted the voice of God speaking to them in his works and ways, and that they have worshiped everything as God but Jehovah himself—but also that so many have shut their eyes against the broad light of revelation, and have either denied its divine authority, or else perverted it to sanction the most gross and fatal errors. Taking for granted then this fact, it amounts to nothing less than a predisposition in the human heart to the reception of error.

Suppose your bodily system was exactly predisposed to some contagious disease, would not that fact greatly increase your danger, on being brought into contact with the elements of infection? Or suppose an individual had a strong thirst for intoxicating liquors, would not this invest with additional danger all opportunities for indulging in the use of them? Is it not equally manifest that that natural aversion to the reception of God's truth, of which I have spoken, must be peculiarly favorable to the influence of evil instruction?

cont

[airIam2worship]

But this danger farther arises from the love of novelty, and the pride of personal opinion. There is something exceedingly grateful to many youthful minds, in the reflection that they have turned off from the beaten track—that they have escaped from vulgar prejudices, and broken away from the trammels of education, and that they are giving the world a fine example of independent thought. But this spirit finds but little aliment in the way of truth; for that is a highway, and the simple and unlettered walk in it; and the way to be distinguished from the vulgar herd, is to leave this plain path, and broach some wild or wicked speculation. More or less of this spirit no doubt belongs to human nature; and though you may not hitherto have been sensible of its operation, yet if you venture into the way of evil instruction, there is great danger that you will find, not only that this spirit exists—but that it exerts a powerful influence in opening your mind to the reception of error.

Moreover, you are in danger of embracing the errors which you accustom yourselves to hear defended, from the fact that familiarity with error, as with vice, has a tendency to make you insensible of its deformity.  This tendency results partly from the power of habit, and partly from the deceitful nature of sin; and it exists universally; though it must be acknowledged that it is often counteracted by the influence of circumstances.

The process by which it discovers itself, needs only to be described, to be recognized by everyone as a reality. The youth who has been educated to reverence the bible as God's word, when he first hears it assailed by infidel cavils and scoffs—shudders at the impiety, and perhaps wonders that God allows such a wretch to live. He hears the same thing the second time—but with less horror than before. He hears it again and again, and at length ceases to be affected by the impiety. At no distant period, he gathers bravery enough to smile at what once made him tremble; to assent to that, which once drew from him expressions of abhorrence. At a more remote point in the process, he cordially takes the infidel by the hand, and greets him as a brother; thus, perhaps, in a little period, having traveled the whole distance—from a firm belief to a total rejection of the bible. Say, my young friends, whether all this is not perfectly natural; and easily accounted for on the principle that familiarity with error blinds the mind to its inherent odiousness. Venture not then in the way of evil instruction, lest, through the operation of the same principle, you should be the subjects of the same disastrous change.

Another consideration which renders it probable that you will embrace the errors which you hear defended, is, that, from your age and inexperience, you cannot be supposed to be properly furnished for an encounter with error. The man who, when properly armed, might stand his ground against a company of ruffians, would, if stripped of his armor, fall into their hands at the first onset. In like manner, the man who has been long accustomed to study his bible, might find little difficulty, and be in little danger, in meeting the cavils of the enemies of truth; while he who is comparatively unacquainted with the word of God, might be easily entangled, and drawn away by their sophistry. Taking it for granted then that you have not that deep and thorough knowledge of the bible which might more naturally be looked for in advanced life, you cannot but perceive that you are in great danger, from this circumstance, of receiving the errors which are defended in your hearing. Cavils which might be satisfactorily answered in many ways, and the fallacy of which a more thorough knowledge of the word of God might enable you instantly to detect, assume, from your ignorance, the weight of arguments; and there is danger that you will soon come to conclude that what you cannot answer, is unanswerable.

cont

[airIam2worship]

But the consideration which crowns the evidence of your danger on this subject, is, that  multitudes of youth, from hearing evil instruction, actually have embraced the errors with which they have thus been made familiar. Yes, I could point you to many a young person, who thought himself safe when he ventured on this forbidden ground, and felt confident that his belief of the truth was never to be shaken, who can now speak boldly in defense of the most dangerous errors, and even pour contempt on the revelation of God. Tell me, my young friends, what there is in your circumstances which promises that the same experiment will result more favorably in respect to you. Rely on it, that ground which your curiosity may tempt you to explore, is beset with snares; if you venture among them, take heed lest they prove to you the snares of eternal death!

cont

http://www.gracegems.org/
Our literature is public domain—use it in any way you desire.
No monetary donations accepted. "Freely you
have received, freely give." Matthew 10:8

[airIam2worship]

2. Guard against being found in the way of evil instruction, because there is great danger that you will not only by this means embrace error—but that you will retain it until the close of life.

There are two principles which will operate powerfully towards such an evil result. The first is, the pride of consistency. The circumstances in which the error is supposed to be embraced, are exceedingly well fitted to bring this principle into action. You have become an errorist under the teaching of wicked men, who have watched you in every step of your progress, who have triumphed in their success, and have congratulated you on being set free from puritanical prejudices. In your fellowship with them and with others, you have probably gloried in your opposition to the truth; for it usually happens that the truth finds its bitterest enemies in the ranks of apostacy. How difficult then must it be to come down from this high stand which you have taken, into the dust; to acknowledge, after all your confident boasting, that you have been left to believe a lie! How hard to bear the taunting accusation of fickleness or hypocrisy; to be assailed by the hiss of contempt, instead of being greeted with the smile of approbation! If you have embraced error in the circumstances to which I have referred, is not here a powerful consideration to prevent you from abandoning it? Even if doubts should sometimes force themselves upon you, is it not probable that this pride of consistency—this fear of the world's dread laugh, would lead you to shake them off as soon as possible?

The other principle to which I referred as likely to operate in preventing you from abandoning your errors, when they are once adopted, is a regard to present comfort. No matter from what consideration you may have been induced to receive them—when once received, they will of course exert an influence to quiet the conscience, and thus minister to a life of sin. The man who speculatively believes the great truths of the Bible, has but little to defend him against the arrows of conviction. When the threatenings of God are thundered in his ears, conscience is exceedingly apt to take advantage of his belief, to stir up tumult and agony in his heart.

But the man who has embraced any fundamental error, carries a shield upon his conscience, which the sharpest arrows from the quiver of the Almighty can scarcely penetrate. He is at ease under the preaching of the word, under the warnings of Providence, in revivals of true religion, and is even mighty to oppose the operations of God's Holy Spirit: but take from him his system of error, and you strip him of the armor in which he trusted; you leave him as liable to the terrors of conviction, as other men. In every human bosom there is a natural dread of misery; especially in the bosom of the sinner, a dread of finding himself exposed to the wrath of God. How probable is it then, on this ground, that if you have once yielded to the influence of error, you will never abandon it. It produces a feeling of safety which you love to cherish; whereas the parting with it must be the signal for a painful sense of exposure to the most awful calamities.

I have said that there is a probability that a system of error once adopted will be retained until the close of life: perhaps I ought rather to say until near the close—for experience proves that the approach of death has a mighty influence to break up these delusions. Cases indeed occur, in which the soul clings to them to the last, and even with apparent triumph; but the instances are far more numerous, in which the most honest confessions, and the most gloomy forebodings, pronounce these systems of error to be refuges of lies. But this conviction is often—perhaps usually, nothing more than the conviction of despair. The soul, just in the act of making its change—though it may abandon the error, is not in a condition to escape from its influence; and hence it may be said in the most important and practical sense—that those by whom error is once received, will probably carry it with them to the gates of eternity.

cont

[airIam2worship]

3. Guard against being found in the way of evil instruction, because the errors to which you are thus exposed, if adopted, and retained until the close of life, must be fatal to your souls. I here refer particularly to those errors which have been examined in the former part of this discourse, though they are by no means the only ones of fatal tendency.

 Let it be remembered that these errors are, in the highest degree, practical. There are many false notions, and even in respect to true religion, which may be held with little or no hazard; because they are at best mere matters of speculation, and do not involve any great point of duty or interest. But it is otherwise in respect to those which we have been considering: they contemplate man in his relations to God and eternity; and involve interests too momentous for the human mind adequately to estimate. I know there are those who will have it, that nothing is practical in true religion—but what relates to external morality and to the present life; but surely those are the most practical truths, in the only proper sense of that word, which are fitted to exert the greatest influence in preparing men for heaven; and those the most practical errors, which minister most directly and effectually to the soul's everlasting destruction.

 But the fatal influence of the errors of which I have spoken, is more directly manifest in the fact, that they either sweep away the only foundation of the sinner's hope, or else they effectually prevent a compliance with the terms on which salvation is offered. If you believe that the Bible is not the word of God, then you set at nothing all that God has done for your salvation, and fairly bring yourself under the sentence, "He who believes not, shall be damned." If you believe that Jesus Christ has made no atonement for sin, it were absurd to suppose that you should ever rest your soul's everlasting interests on his atonement; and yet this is the only sure foundation. If you believe neither the reality nor the necessity of a renovation of heart by the Holy Spirit, what motive will you have to seek it? But Jesus himself has declared, "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." And finally, if you believe that there is to be no eternal punishment, or only a limited punishment—of the wicked in the future world, what influence will this belief be likely to exert, other than that to which I have already referred; that of quieting your fears, and encouraging you to walk the downward road? I do not say that it is not possible but that the tendency of this latter doctrine may, in individual instances, be counteracted; but we may safely say that, if such instances exist, they are exceedingly rare; and that this error has generally a most direct and visible influence in carrying the soul down to perdition.

 And is it so, my young friends, that the errors to which you are exposed—are fraught with such amazing danger? Is it so, that every effort made to corrupt your principles—is an effort to destroy your souls? Then venture not into the way of evil instruction. Regard with more horror the man who would shake your belief in the truths of true religion, than the assassin who waits to plunge a dagger into your heart! The one aims only at the death of the body, which must die soon in the course of nature. The other aims at the death of the soul—a death fraught with everlasting agony. If you are tempted to place yourself, even for an hour, in the way of hearing the truths of the bible ridiculed or opposed, yield not to the temptation, unless you have made up your mind to encounter the agonies of the lost.

 And now what remains but that I exhort you to value and love the Bible? Be not satisfied with a vague and inoperative assent to its authority or its doctrines; but let your belief in both be intelligent and influential. Study it daily with diligence and prayer. Endeavor not only to become familiar with its truths—but to become imbued with its spirit. Bind it about your heart, as the richest treasure that God has ever given to mortals. In this way, you will early become fortified against the influence of evil instruction—will have a sure guide amidst difficulties—a substantial solace in sorrow—an unfailing refuge in death. Give me the directions which the bible furnishes, and I will ask for no other guide amidst the devious paths of human life. Give me the consolations which the bible yields, and I will ask for no other staff to support me when I go down into the dark valley of death.

http://www.gracegems.org/
Our literature is public domain—use it in any way you desire.
No monetary donations accepted. "Freely you
have received, freely give." Matthew 10:8

[airIam2worship]

DANGER OF A LIFE OF PLEASURE


"Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see, but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment." Ecclesiastes 11:9

A more cutting and solemn piece of irony than is contained in this passage, is, perhaps, not to be found, either in or out of the sacred volume. The wise man, in the first part of the verse, assumes the character of a mirthful and thoughtless libertine; and in the true spirit of a libertine, counsels the youth whom he is addressing, to give himself up to an unrestrained course of amusement and dissipation. He bids him abandon all serious thoughts of God, and eternity, and true religion. He welcomes him to the joys of an irreligious and profligate life; and gives him all the liberty which any sensualist could desire.

Having so far represented the wicked seducer and destroyer of the young, he suddenly lays aside his assumed character, and with all the solemnity of a preacher from the world of spirits, closes the verse, in a style of the most impressive admonition. The same young person, whom he had just before pointed into the path of forbidden pleasure, he now points to the final judgment; and alludes, with solemn emphasis, to that tremendous reckoning, which must follow such a life as he had recommended. "Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see, but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment."

Our subject, at once, lays itself before you. In the first part of the text, there is the ironic invitation to partake of sinful pleasure: in the latter part, the solemn admonition to remember the judgment. Let us endeavor, so far as we can, to enter into the spirit of both parts of the passage.

cont

[airIam2worship]

1. An IRONIC INVITATION "Be happy, young man, while you are young, and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see"—almost the very language by which many youth at the present day are tempted into the path of forbidden pleasure. Coming from the lips of the sensualist, it is no irony; it is the honest language of his heart; and he rejoices when it is listened to and obeyed.

Hear the sentiment contained in these words, a little expanded—"You are now in the morning of life—the season most free from worldly care, and most adapted to worldly pleasure. However it may be with middle life, or old age, when the vigor of the body is spent, or the animal spirits have grown cool—certainly your youth is not the time for true religion. You were made to enjoy life; but true religion is only a course of mortification and penance; it is the bondage both of soul and body—the grave of all that is bright and goodly in the lot of man. Resist, then, the claims of true religion, at least for the present. If you should think it fit to beckon her to you in your last hour, as a companion through the dark valley, be it so; but while these years of youthful buoyancy are passing off, make no league with this 'damper of human joy'. Come with us into these scenes of mirth and revelry, in which reflection is drowned, and restraint is not known; and here let your heart be glutted with pleasure. What if, after having devoted hours to amusement, the thought should occur to you, while in the solitude of your chamber, that all that you had enjoyed was vanity? Endeavor to convince yourself of the contrary, by thinking how happy you were while you were listening to the festive song, or while you were dancing to the sound of the music. What if the open grave of some beloved friend should bring into your mind the gloomy thought of dying? Banish it as an intruder upon the joys of life; and think how useless it is to trouble yourself about what is inevitable. What if the thought should occur to you, while at the gaming table, or in scenes of profane and boisterous riot, that you have beloved friends who would weep blood, if they should know where you are, and how you are engaged? But what right have friends to abridge your pleasure, so long as you are willing that they should judge what is best for themselves, and you attempt no interference with their plans for enjoyment? In a word, let it be your grand object to drink as deeply at the fountain of worldly pleasure, as you can; and as the hours of this golden season whirl off, let there be no inquiry agitated in your bosom more gloomy, than how you shall crowd into each hour the largest amount of careless gaiety or sensual indulgence."

But, my young friends, I dare not proceed farther in this strain of irony, which is suggested by my text, lest some of you should forget that it is irony, and should begin to think that you have found an advocate for your youthful vanities. I pass therefore immediately to the other part of the subject, in which I am to enforce:

cont

[airIam2worship]

2. The SOLEMN WARNING  contained in the closing part of the text. "But know that for all these things, God will bring you into judgment." What an awful contrast is here presented to the language of the libertine, to which we have just been attending!

Reflect on the certainty of your being brought into judgment. "Know!" says the wise man; that is, "be assured that the fact of which I speak, shall take place, without the possibility of failure." God has not left himself without witness on this subject, either in the constitution of our nature, or in the dispensations of his providence. The doctrine of a future judgment is written more or less legibly on the conscience of every man; else, how will you account for that painful restlessness which attends the remembrance of crimes long since committed, and the record of which is kept only in the perpetrator's own bosom? Moreover, the unequal distribution of rewards and punishments in the present life, in connection with the immutable justice of God—seems to constitute a ground of necessity for a future retribution; for in what other way shall the divine character be vindicated from the charge of partiality? But if reason has not spoken with sufficient distinctness on this subject, you cannot say that of the lively oracles; for here the doctrine stands written with God's own finger in letters of light. The text is decisive on this subject—"For all these things, God will bring you into judgment." And again: "God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." And again: "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that everyone may receive the things done in his body, according to that he has done, whether it be good or bad."

The evidence that you are to be brought into judgment, then, is complete. Whether you take counsel of reason, or hold communion with conscience, or open the volume of God's truth, this evidence glares upon you. Forget it you may; trifle with it you may; but the solemn fact you cannot change. I charge you then to remember, wherever you go, or whatever you do—that there is a tremendous reckoning before you. Go, if you dare, into the haunts of irreligious mirth, and hear God's name profaned, and join in heaping scandal upon the cross; go and hear the scoffer ask, "Where is the promise of his coming?" and let your heart overflow with sensual joy. But remember that other scenes await you; remember that it has gone out of the mouth of Him who is "the same yesterday, today, and forever"—that you are yet to be brought into judgment!

cont

[airIam2worship]

Contemplate the purpose for which you are to be brought into judgment—"For all these things," says the wise man; that is, the things specified in the preceding part of the verse—giving yourself up to a life of vanity and pleasure. You will be brought into judgment for the waste of your time; for every hour and moment which shall have been devoted to other purposes than those for which your time was given you. You will be brought into judgment for all your profane and idle discourse, which was fitted at once to affront your Maker, and to pollute your own mind, and close it against serious reflection. You will be brought into judgment for every scene of vain amusement; for every meeting for sensual excess; for every effort to stifle conscience and forget God. You will be brought into judgment for all that you have done in corrupting others; for the deadly poison which has distilled from your lips, and from your example, operating like the blast of death, wherever it has been communicated; for that fearful amount of sin and wretchedness which will have resulted from the accumulating influence of your life on many successive generations. In a word, for all that belongs to a life of pleasure, whether it respect action or enjoyment, its more immediate or more remote influences—you will be brought into judgment.

How differently will a life of sinful pleasure appear to you, when you come to view it in the light of the judgment, from what it does now, while your heart cheers you in the days of your youth! What you here plead for as innocent—will then be seen to have involved crimson guilt. What you here regard as fraught with no danger—will there be felt to have contained the elements of a heavy curse. What you here treat with levity as though it were a dream or a fable—will there gather all the importance that belongs to an appalling reality. How will your heart sicken, and your spirit die within you, when the light of eternity reveals your mistake in respect to the object of the present life! With what emotions will you realize that the period which you have spent in trifling—was the only period given you to escape hell and to obtain heaven!

Consider, farther, by WHOM you are to be brought into judgment. The text asserts that "God will bring you into judgment"—God, from whom came all the blessings which you have perverted to purposes of sinful pleasure; and against whom every sin that you have committed, has been an act of rebellion—God, whose heart-searching eye has always been intent upon you, noticing the birth, and progress, and accomplishment of every sinful purpose; who has been with you when you supposed yourself alone; and who has kept an exact record of all that you have thought, and spoken, and done—from the first moment of your existence—God, who, though long-suffering and gracious, is yet just and holy, and will by no means clear the guilty; who has all the means of punishment in the universe at his command, and can execute with infinite ease the penalty which his righteous authority ordains. And is this the great and dreadful Being, who is to bring you into judgment? Say, whether it will not be a fearful thing to fall into the hands of such a Judge?

cont

[airIam2worship]

Were your final retribution to be decided by a mere man, or a mere creature, you might suppose it possible that you should escape the woes which hang over your eternal destiny. You might hope something from his limited knowledge. Possibly he might not be acquainted with all your transgressions in all their aggravating circumstances; or he might form too low an estimate of the punishment which you deserve on account of them. Or you might hope something from his limited power. You might imagine that by some combination of energy or influence which could be formed, you might either resist the mandate which should summon you to judgment, or prevent the execution of the final sentence. Or you might presume upon the triumph of mercy over justice. You might hope that some appeal could be made to the heart of the Judge, which should lead him at least to abate the severity of your doom; even though such mitigation should tarnish his character, and weaken his government.

But surely you can form no such imaginations in respect to the infinite God! You cannot hope to evade the scrutiny of his eye, or to resist the might of his arm, or to awaken a blind and indiscriminate compassion in his heart. What though you may be courageous on every other occasion, yet can your heart endure, or your hands be strong—when you shall stand before the throne of Almighty power, beneath the searching look of Omniscience, to receive a just recompense for a life wasted in sinful pleasure?

Meditate on the time of your being brought into judgment. It would seem that the day of judgment, appropriately so called—the day which is to make a full revelation of the secrets of every heart, and to pour the light of a complete vindication over the character of God—is yet comparatively distant. There are purposes to be accomplished in the scheme of providence, preparatory to that grand occasion, which may require the lapse of ages. Nevertheless, there is an important sense in which it may be said that the judgment is near. The world into which the soul passes at death, is a world of retribution. Whatever means God intends ever to employ to bring the sinner to repentance, have been employed previous to that period: the first gleam of light from the eternal world reveals to the soul its destiny, which, though not yet published to the universe, is fixed by a decree which the whole creation could not change; and whatever the soul experiences, whether of joy or of woe, subsequently to that period, belongs to its everlasting retribution.

Dream not, then, my young friend, that the period of your being brought into judgment is remote. Will you presume upon youth as a security against it? So did that young man, who, the other day, was hurried into eternity, in the fullness of youthful vigor, and the bloom of youthful hope! Will you presume upon health as a security against it? Go, then, and read a lesson from yonder tombstone; and there you will find that a protracted sickness, and a lingering death-scene, are not the necessary accompaniments of dissolution. You will find that death may overtake you, while your hands are strung with vigor; and that your passage through the dark valley of death, may be the passage of a moment.

cont

[airIam2worship]

Or do you presume on promising worldly prospects? I could point you to many a father who would tell you weeping, that he once had a son whose prospects were, in every respect, as bright as yours; but that death had marked him as his victim, and he had sunk into an early grave.

Where, then, I ask, is your security against being early brought into judgment? When you go into a scene of amusement, how do you know, but that the summons may meet you there? When you mingle in the midnight revel, can you be certain that you are not passing the last hour of your probation? When you lay your head upon your pillow, without lifting your heart to God—who has given you the assurance that that is not the night in which your soul is to be required of you; that a voice from eternity may not break upon your ear amidst the stillness of midnight, calling you to judgment? But be it so that you should fill up seventy years—it would still remain true that you are on the threshold of the judgment. That period—long as it may now seem to you—is but as a hand's-breadth; while you are dreaming of its continuance, it will be spent, and your spirit will be rushing forth to meet its God.

And is it so, that the judgment is not only a reality—but that its amazing scenes are so soon to burst upon you? Tell me, then, O immortal soul, what account you are prepared to render of that wasted, perverted life, when you enter the invisible world, and stand before the dread tribunal?

Contemplate, moreover, the circumstances of your being brought into judgment. If you consider this expression as referring to the removal of the soul by death to a state of retribution, then the circumstances of this event must, in a great measure, remain concealed, until they are disclosed to you in experience. In respect to some of them, however, you may form at least a probable opinion. By the power of a burning fever, or the gradual inroads of some mysterious form of disease, you may expect before long to be laid upon the bed of death. It may be that, in that awful hour, you may be given up to delirium or insensibility, and may close your eyes upon the objects of sense without knowing where you are, or through what scenes you are passing. Or it may be that your rational powers will be active and bright, so that you will be conscious of all that happens to you in your passage through the dark valley. You may see around you beloved friends, who will alternately fasten upon you a look of mingled affection and agony, and turn away to smother the sobs which rise from a bursting heart. You may be sensible that the cold damps of death are already hanging upon your countenance; that the vital current is performing its last passage through your heart; that you are undergoing the convulsive struggle which is to dislodge the spirit from its clayey tabernacle.

cont

[airIam2worship]

And supposing that your life has been devoted to sinful pleasure, how probable is it that conscience will pour its accusations into your ears, and tell you of an offended Judge, and of coming wrath, and of interminable woe! How probable that the ghosts of wasted hours, and days, and years, will come up in frightful succession before you, as ministers of wrath, when you need so much to be attended by angels of consolation! Amidst some such assemblage of gloomy circumstances as I have now supposed, you may expect that your spirit will take its flight for the eternal world. And while your body is dressing for the grave, that spirit will be mingling in scenes of new and awful interest; and though it will have done with the agony attendant on the dissolution of the body, it will be convulsed by an agony far more dreadful—the beginning of a never-dying death! Oh what a moment will that be, when you shall first know by experience—the misery of the lost!

But if you consider the text as referring immediately to the great day of final decision; the circumstances which will attend your being brought into judgment, will be of a far different character from those which we have just described; and while, in the former case, we learn them principally from observation, in the latter, we derive our knowledge solely from the oracles of God. At the hour next previous to that in which the immediate preparation for the judgment shall commence, your body, dissolved into its original elements, will be slumbering with its kindred dust; and your spirit will be mingling with other lost spirits in the region of despair. Suddenly the skies will send forth a sound—it will be a blast of the trumpet of God, which will echo from one end of the earth to the other, bursting open the doors of every sepulcher, breaking up the slumbers of all their inhabitants, and re-collecting from the earth, the ocean, the air—the scattered dust of every child of Adam that shall have died since the creation. The union between body and spirit is restored—the same body that was laid in the dust, rises up to meet the same spirit which had animated it. The Judge descends from heaven, in the glory of his Father, and with all his holy angels; and around his throne are assembled all nations, and kindreds, and tongues, and people.

The righteous are placed in open, distinguished honor, at his right hand; the wicked, as a public proof of his indignation against their character, are summoned to the left. In this latter class—you, who have been devoted to sinful pleasure, will be found. There you will be obliged to contemplate the picture of your life, drawn only in black, without one bright stroke to relieve the eye from a uniform and sickening gloom. There you will be obliged, with all others who have been "lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God," to hear the appalling sentence, "Depart, you cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels!" Oh, when that piercing sound shall enter into your ear—will it not rend your heart with agony, and open your lips in wailing? For "who can stand before his indignation? And who can abide in the fierceness of his anger?"

cont

[airIam2worship]

Meditate, finally, on the consequences of your being brought into judgment. The consequence of your being summoned by death into a world of retribution—will be an entire separation from all the objects of sense, from all the means of grace, from all the hopes of salvation. You will remember, indeed, how you once mingled in scenes of unhallowed mirth and revelry; but with the remembrance of these scenes will be associated the reflection that they have gone by forever; while the effect of them remains to be felt in an interminable scene of anguish. You will think of sabbaths given you to prepare for heaven—but perverted to purposes of mere amusement: of invitations and warnings a thousand times pressed upon you—but as often treated with indifference or contempt; of friends who had come with the tenderest concern to speak to you of the things that belonged to your peace—but who returned to their closets mourning that they could gain no access to your heart. But you will be obliged also to reflect that there are no more sabbaths for you; that the last invitation of mercy, the last warning to repent, has died away upon your ear; that no Christian friend can come where you are, to unburden a full heart in prayers, and tears, and expostulations, for the salvation of your soul.

You may remember too, how, in all your mad pursuit of pleasure, you still clung to the hope of future repentance: but the delusion is broken up; even the atoning blood of Jesus can now no longer reach you. And while you are an exile from all the good, real or imaginary, which you once enjoyed—you will be subject to the corrosion of a guilty conscience, will be a companion of fiends and reprobates, and as you look forward into eternity, will see one woe rising after another, like the billows of the ocean, in a train that will never end!

The consequence of your being brought before the last tribunal, and of receiving a formal and final sentence from the lips of the Judge—will be still more tremendous. At the close of this dreadful transaction, you will behold, with a bewildered look of agony, all above, beneath, around—vaulted with the funereal fires of this great world! And when amidst this final wreck of nature, you look out for a refuge from the fiery storm, no refuge in the universe will be open for you, except that dungeon of woe, in which the wrath of God is to have its perpetual operation. Into that prison of the universe, that grave of lost but living souls, you will immediately enter; and there, in the hopelessness of unavailing anguish—there, amidst the curses and wailings of the lost—there, where the eye can fasten upon no object upon which the wrath of God has not fastened before it—you must run the dreary round of everlasting ages!

cont