or gaiety, or amusement!"-One could almost imagine, that realizing such a state of things in a man's own soul, might produce an amazement enough to suspend for a while even the sense of personal interest; that a man might be absorbed awhile before he came again to the consciousness of being himself the subject; as we should look at some strange and dreadful phenomenon in the natural world. And, in truth, there is no phenomenon in that world so portentous ! In such a condition (sensibly so, in a measure) men can give their attention and activity to all manner of interests and pursuits,—many very trifling ones. But the remon strance should follow them still. Recollect what it is that you are warmly pursuing this, to the neglect of, and in preference to! And cannot you rise to the resolution of saying deliberately, "Why should this take the precedence, why? Is there one moment in which I seriously approve its doing SO ? Will there ever be such a moment? and if there should! Is not this my preference made on the very principle that creates all the evil and misery in the universe? Is it not a perversity of will inclined to the worse? Do I not know that I am giving this the preference by the neglect of an interest infinite millions of times more important? Am I then an immortal, under some dreadful charm and curse, that dooms me to live but for the hour, or the day, or the few uncertain days of this my abode in the dust, -unable to go forth in a capacious apprehension of the great hereafter? Or when shall the case cease to be thus ?" If his mind answer evasively, "Not always will it be thus, I hope-not long-perhaps not to-morrow." Have you then (it might be said to him) such easy faith? Do you adhere, for the present, to your preference, on a calculation of disgusting yourself at length with what you prefer? that at the next turn, the right preference may be the easier? But why has the preceding train of your wrong preferences done so litle to disgust, or satiate, or change you? Or if we shall suppose that there is often a certain degree of disgust and recoil;—that a sense of the vanity and insufficiency of things is forced on the soul;-that the heart cannot find the living element it longs for, in any of these terrestrial things; so that the active spirit, for a while, remits, in disappointment, and is reduced to stand detached and retired. Why, this should be well; but what is the consequence? Alas! too often, it but reverts awhile in a gloomy mood, to recover and look out to see where it may try again! There is no look toward heaven, except, perhaps, for a moment, in something like an emotion of revenge upon the earth; let another delusive gleam of the world's sunshine come, and that emotion passes away! But these seasons of dissatisfaction and recoil, this sickness of the heart, experienced in the exclusive pursuit o inferior interests, might be seized upon by the Christian admonisher. He would say,-" Acknowledge that at these seasons you are in truth struck and troubled by a power from the other world, whether distinctly recognized or not; -an obscure and suppressed sympathy with the true cause of happiness. There is a certain sense of an infinitely greater interest neglected. Consider those who are earnestly intent on the higher object, are they subject to these seasons of mortifying recoil from them? Have they a forced perception of their vanity? Are they almost ashamed of them? And again,-does there not come upon you sometimes an irresistible conviction that if you had long since become animated with the spirit of the religion. of Christ, it would have been infinitely the best and happiest thing that could have befallen you? Has not this conviction prompted you to exclaim, 'What a course of happy feeling and estimable life it would have been, as compared with my past existence! One little stage of it would have been of more worth than all these long vain years have been. I should have walked with God thus far, and with his saints and angels."" There are at least some who are visited with such reflections. But, we say,-What then, NOW? Will you make this past, which you are compelled to condemn and deplore, the very precedent and pattern for what is to come? Would it not be the very worst effect of all, from this misapplied past, if it make you careless of the present and future? if it chain you to a fatal consistency? It is enough for you that that past has lost itself! When this present too shall have become past, and lost, will it appear a good reason, that the preceding periods of life were so? This time that is here, and that is coming on, lies between, on the one hand, a trifled-away portion of your existence,and the most grand and awful portion of it on the other! Now, think, and choose in the presence of God, shall it be conformed to the character of the former or of the latter? Consider, wherein would it have been so good, so happy a thing, that through preceding life you had been in earnest about the one thing needful? wherein, but chiefly in the manner in which it would have been carrying you forward toward the Great Futurity! Well! but you are going toward that same Futurity! it is the one constant inevitable action of life;-your progress is not turning another way than in the former stages; it has no reversed or circuitous movement;—it is direct, and think how rapid! And every step seems to belong more to that awful futurity and its realities, than the preceding; by the same rule that the last step, which is to be into eternity, appears to have a transcendent importance, so in proportion all that are approximating it. Now if you allow that, in regard to that Futurity, it would have been so happy, that the progress hitherto had been in the earnest spirit of a Christian, what do you think of the remaining progress from this point, with the realities in prospect, shall we say, rising higher and larger, and more majestic above the horizon of your view? Consider too, that whatever the world and time could have given you from the first, they can at all events give you much less now, and what is sooner to be taken away. When, and by what, shall this sad indifference be broken up and leave you? Would you quietly wait for some alarming dispensation of Providence to do it? to be admonished as Pharaoh was, in vain? Would you wait till some heavy affliction? till some disaster in your worldly affairs ? till another dear relative or friend shall die? till a severe sickness, with imminent threatenings of death? Can you be content to wait for such visitations? and with the perfect certainty that, if they should come, and should effectually alarm you out of this indifference, that alarm will be mingled with an aggravated remorse, and indeed will very much consist of it? remorse especially to think that “the goodness of God" has not "led to repentance ?" But have no such visitations come to you already? What was their effect? Are you to be so much more sensible to the impressions of the next? or do you wish them to be tenfold more severe ? If you can wish so, the interest for which you wish so, must be most urgent! But if it be so urgent, why neglected now? Consider, besides, that the next severe visitation may be the last of life;—may be a fatal disaster;may be a mortal illness! Or, would you wait for old age? What! because it is confessedly a great moral miracle for a man careless till old age, to be awakened then! Or, will a man profane a Christian doctrine, and say, The Spirit of God alone can be efficacious, and he must quietly wait for that? This is saying, in effect, that he will make a trial with Omnipotence, and resist as long as he can! And how can he anticipate any other than a destructive energy from that Spirit upon him, while he is trifling with, and frustrating truth-conviction-warnings and emotions of conscience! while he is repelling all these minor operations of that Spirit, instead of earnestly praying for the greater! It were most wicked thus to pretend a reverence for the ultimate powers of the Divine Spirit, and at the same time make light of what comes from that Spirit already. How dreadfully obstinate a state is this careless indifference! But nevertheless we can imagine situations under the force of which it must give way! Imagine them! but that is not all:-we are certain to be in one or other of them, sometime? Happy will it be, if the love of Christ shall effectually constrain us;-if there be a prevailing impression that our affections and powers are due to him; that we must do something for him, and his great cause, while we are on earth. Happy! if an ardent desire of heaven;-happy! even if the thought of the "terrors of the Lord," should contribute to persuade us! But though all these should fail, and leave us indifferent still, there will be in reserve, that which cannot fail,-situations and circumstances of irresistible power! And can a man calmly refer himself to these! Can a man say, "I know I must awake from this indifference at last-I will indulge it till then! "Here is a dull, stupified state of soul, but there will be blows upon it so mighty as to make it quiver with the intensest feeling!"-"I am making light of anticipations; —well, the realities will come!”- "Here I am, easily soothing my conscience ;-well, it is but that it may rise upon me with tremendous strength!". "Now I am lightly dismissing, or evading a solemn and alarming reflection;—well, it goes away but to come back as if transformed into an avenging spirit!"-"I am dissipating my mind upon trifles,—be it so,—a tempest will arise which |