Mr. D's end.

perished by suffocation. And now one would have thought that these childless parents would have gone to God for comfort. But they again turned to the world, heedless of the solemn call from heaven.

A Christian friend who visited the family during this season of sore trial, with the hope of directing their minds to the things of eternity, remarked, "The parents, heedless of this solemn warning, seemed to have encompassed themselves about with abundance of this world's goods; with flowers, and birds, and pictures, as if to drown the recollection of their loss by these trifling vanities."

The Lord, still waiting to be gracious, sent them another warning. The mother of Mr. D suddenly sickened. and died. This call was also unheeded. All serious thoughts were shaken off, and those places carefully avoided where religious reflection would be awakened. Thus did Mr. D- as many perhaps whom I am addressing have hitherto done, turn a deaf ear to all the calls of God. The decree at length went forth, in reference to this useless cumberer in God's vineyard, "Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground?"

I will here read you an extract from a letter I received immediately after this melancholy event, from one that resided in an adjoining house.

66

My heart sickens while I write it. Mr. D- died very suddenly yesterday in a delirium, and his distressed wife, crushed to the earth by this heavy blow, is laid upon a bed of sickness and agony. Preparations are now making for his funeral, which is to take place this afternoon. He was an amiable and intelligent man. The colour of the rose was ever on his cheek: and in social life, Mr. D- was peculiarly pleasing and interesting. But alas, alas! what will all this avail him now? But ten days since he was taken with slight intermittent fever. inflammation of the brain followed, which produced delirium. From this he never recovered. So that from the moment he was seriously ill to his last breath, he was not allowed even a brief interval in which to cry, 'God be merciful to me a sinner.' The night previous to his death, I was awakened from my slumbers by groans and cries most heart rending. It was his ravings. His attendants were compelled to confine him to his bed by

An

Covenant entered into at confirmation, everlasting.

force. I cannot describe to you, nor would I if I could, the awful impression made upon my mind by what I heard that night. It seemed to me like the wailings of a lost spirit, conscious of being upon the brink of a ruined eternity. He seemed to be shrinking back from the realities that were just before him. I never felt more deeply the necessity of giving all diligence to make my calling and election sure.

"Oh, let me be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer.' His grave seems wrapped in tenfold darkness. Not a ray of light pierces through the thick gloom, so long as this passage stands recorded in God's word, without holiness no man shall see the Lord.''

Now, I wish to say to you, my hearers, that it is very possible that I may be addressing some this evening, to whom this may be the last call that God will ever vouchsafe. In view of the facts I have stated, I would affectionately warn you to "flee from the wrath to come," and seek to make your peace with God at once.

2. Remember, the covenant you enter into when renewing your vow is an everlasting covenant.

We often enter upon pursuits that at first furnish us high satisfaction; but after a short time our interest flags, and we relinquish them. We often form friendships which at first promise much happiness, and from which, for a while, we realize all that we anticipated; but a longer and more intimate acquaintance discloses defects and features of character which detract largely from the pleasures that we felt in the earlier stages of the acquaintance. All our earthly connexions and engagements are transient and mutable; but the vow which we make at baptism, and renew in the rite of confirmation, is a vow for time and for eternity; it is a perpetual covenant, which is never to be forgotten what you renounce, you renounce for your whole life; what you engage to do, you engage to do all the days of your life. There is nothing that you can ever do after confirmation that you might not do with equal propriety the next hour after receiving this solemn ordinance. eternal One has declared, "No man, putting his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." "The just shall live by faith; but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.”

K

The

Illustration in the career of young B.

Doubtless it is infinitely to our advantage to render our covenant with God perpetual. The more we become acquainted with his character, the more we shall love, admire, and adore him. The longer we continue in his service, the more delightful we shall find that service. And, unless our vow is kept inviolate, and we can claim a covenant relation to God, we shall not be able to meet the king of terrors with calmness. Doubtless you will not be so rash as to renew your baptismal vow without intending that it shall have an influence over all your future life. But the world is full of temptations; and many who have set out in the right way have turned aside quickly into the paths of folly. To induce you to resolve that the dedication of yourselves to God shall be for time and eternity, and to remind you of the great importance of a Christian's avoiding the very appearance of evil, I will give you a hasty sketch of the career of young B

The village of M- had for many years been distin⚫guished for looseness of morals and increasing habits of irreligion. There was nothing in the physical aspect of the place that would have intimated to the passing traveller that this was the theatre of high-handed and heaven-daring iniquity. On the contrary, it seemed designed by the Creator for the abode of innocence and purity. Nature, in the scenery and choice assemblage of objects she had thrown around it, had done every thing to render it one of the most chastened, and beautiful, and lovely spots in the wide amphitheatre of her works. But here depravity rioted and revelled, and iniquity held her court. This is but another proof that the fairest works of God may be polluted and marred by human guilt.

At the time of which we speak, an unusual seriousness was spread over the minds of a large portion of the inhabitants of that place. The external means by which this had been effected, was the plain and faithful preaching of the word of God. Many who had previously been extremely dissipated, had been brought to a stand, and made to pause on the brink of that awful gulf into which they were plunging. Among the number was young B. Highly gifted in intellectual capacity, he had devoted his juvenile days to studies which had both enriched and adorned his mind. He had been drawn into the vortex of dissipation by the infec

B- -'s narrative continued.

The

tious example of those with whom he associated. remonstrance, and counsel, and tears of an affectionate mother could not deter him from visiting the revel, or withdraw him from the party convened for the purpose of deep and midnight gaming.

But now he was missing from the revel. There was a night his voice did not swell the tide of profaneness that rolled through that profligate company. That night he was alone in his chamber, crushed to the earth by a sense of sin, and pouring out his soul to God in penitence, and prayer, and supplication. From thenceforward his vicious companions were abandoned, and in their place was sought the society of the people of God. To all who were interested in the cause of righteousness, the marked change wrought in the habits of this young man was a subject of unfeigned joy. There was rejoicing in the church below, as well as among the angels of heaven, in witnessing the prodigal son in the act of returning to his father's house. Every pious heart throbbed with a new emotion of thankfulness in beholding one so young and so full of promise turning from the paths of vice, misery, and destruction, and giving himself up to God.

The occasion on which he publicly testified, in the solemn ordinance of confirmation, his determination to turn from every evil way, and devote himself to the service of God, was one that will long be remembered by the inhabitants of M- At that time there were many around the chancel, who, a few months before, had been companions in scenes of deep and daring wickedness. Now on their knees, all penitent and broken-hearted, they were vowing eternal allegiance to the most high God. Among that group, none appeared more humble, none more interesting than young B- The eyes of many parents were dim

with tears, but the emotions of no heart in that assembly were more deep and unutterable than those of his pious and affectionate mother. The ardent prayer she had so often breathed to heaven seemed now answered. None but a mother, and a mother who has seen an only and darling child sporting on the very brink of endless ruin, and just when hope was expiring, has seen that child reclaimed, can conceive her feelings.

For more than a year B

seemed unshaken in his

Termination of young B-'s career.

resolutions. His conduct was in all respects exemplary, and he appeared truly devoted to God. Business at length threw him in the way of his former associates. By degrees the intimacy that once subsisted was renewed. From that time his religious character began to decline. At first the change was so gradual, that it was unknown to himself. Some time elapsed before he consented to become one in their party of pleasure. But that time didcome; and from that hour, he rapidly and fearfully relapsed. He now went to far greater excess than ever. Business was neglected. His property was soon spent in dissipation. His mother died of a broken heart.

He at length left the scene of his early dissipation, and sought a residence in a city in a remote part of the union. A number of years subsequent, one who had known him in his early and better days, on a visit to that city, accidentally heard there was dying in a miserable hut in the neighbourhood, a man who had formerly resided in the village of M. He immediately called, and found, amid rags and wretchedness, stretched on the bed of death, the once young and talented, but now fallen and for ever ruined B- -! The dying man recognised his early friend. The recollections of the past were all bitter, and the prospect before him was dark and comfortless. His friend endeavoured to soothe him by directing his attention to the merciful Jesus, who was able and willing to pardon the chiefest of sinners. His reply was firm, and accompanied with all the calmness of fixed despair.

"It is too late," said he, "to talk of pardon. To be pardoned we must be penitent. I am not penitent. I have lived in dissipation and guilt up to the present hour; and if I was again restored, I feel confident I should return to my former practices. For though standing on the brink of hell, with eternity yawning upon me, I love them still. I still have the heart of a rebel. There was a time when I might have been saved. I once entered into covenant with God. That was the happiest time of my life. It was the only happiness that I ever enjoyed. O that I had then clung to the cross, and kept my vow. Then I should not have run this foolish career of guilt. Then I should not have plunged a dagger into that kind bosom upon which I was pillowed in infancy. Then I should