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Lorsque le document eet trop grand pour Atre
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URGENT APPEALS

So t^r

llnsahii^,

TO FLEE FROM THE WRATH "«! COME, AND LAY HOLD ON

ETERNA. LIFE.

! S
I

HT THK

liEV. GEORGE SUTHERLAND.

CHARLOTTETOWN :

HENRY A. HARVIE, QUEEN STREET.
-MRS. intKMNEU. I'KINCE STREET.

1867.

^sum

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irlttc^ (Bflward iisilattd.

Be it kkmembeukd that on tliis the Ei«rhteenth day of
February, A. D. 1867, the Kev. Geor«;fe Sutherland of (har-
lottetown, in the said Island, has deposited in this Office the
title of a Book, the Copyri«?ht whereof he claims in the words
follo\vin«f : — ** Ur<!;'ent Appeals to the Unsaved, to tlee from
the wrarh to come, and lay hold on eternal life, by the Hev.
George Sutherlaiul,"' in conformity with the Act for the pro-
tection of copyright.

T. iip:atii II a VI land,

(JolonLal Secretary.

/o^e

PBINTKD AT TIIK

''EXCELSIOR I'HINTING

OFFICE.

PREFACE.

All irroprossihlc; desire in the pastor's licjirt to
save the impenitent and unpardoned in his flock,
will lead to an earnest application tor that w isdoni
which winncth souls, and to the searching* out of
acceptable words which the Spirit may deign to
employ in the conversion of sinners. Such is the
history of this work. God has already conde-
scended to bless the truths set forth in th<vse pages.
What lie has done on a limited field, lie can do
in an extended sphere ; and I have n(^ doubt that
in answer to believing and importunate prayer He
will continue to bless api:)eals which are Ilis own
to the salvation of man v.

In the selecting, arranging and illustrating of
the various passages of scripture, a natural and
logical order has been followed ; the whole pre-
senting a complete exhil)ition of truth on the par-
ticular subject of the work. ICveiy where an effort
is made to bring the truth in inunediate contact
with the individual conscience.

irr

PKEFACE.

T\w continuous Ijlessing of that Spirit, wboso
delight it is to rcchiim h)st souls, is fervently
invoked on this effort to co-operiite with Ilim in
bringing the outcasts of Eden back to the mansions
of the celestial Paradise.

Free Church Manse,

Charlottetown, Feb. 14th 1867.

^»*T

■5IWI

CONTENTS

■ 9 ,M^

PREFACB

CHAPTER I.

THE ANGER OF THE ALMIGHTY TO BE DHEADED.

GOn 18 TO UK FEAUED .......

M'lIV IS <i(>l) TO HE FEAREP ......

WHAT I'HOVOKES HIM TO AXGEU .....

WHO SHALL STAND WUEX GOD AVENGES ....

CHAPTER II.
CONSIDERATION DEMANDED RY GOD.

CONSIDERATION DEMANDED IJY GOD .....

■WHO ARE ADDRESSED IIY GOD ......

WHAT GOD DEMANDS .......

WHAT GOD THREATENS .......

CHAPTER III.
SINNT:RS STANDING ON SLIPPERY' GROUND.

AITEARANCES MAY DECEIVE ......

SINNERS ON SLIPPERY GROUND . ....

STANDING TIME LIMITED .......

THE CALAMITY HASTENED ......

CHAPTER IV.
JUDGMENT OVERTAKING THE SINNER.

THE WARNING ........

THE SINNER FLEEING .... ...

.JUSTICE PURSUING ........

JUDGMENT OVERTAKING THE SINN Kit .....

9
12

38
42
.51

r>4

70
70

89
102

CHAPTER V.

THE PUNISHMENT FOR SLIGHTING
DIVINE MERCYS

ILLUSTRATIONS ......

ATTEMPTS TO RECLAIM ... . .

MERCY REJECTED .......

SIN lUTTABLr FDNISHED ......

Ill
llfi
12.-)
128

rmw^mm

rONTKNTS.

VIII

CHAPTER VI.
IIKAVKN'S I.AST INVIIATIOX

I.AHT EFIOUTH

WATKU OF LIFK

WHO AKK INVHKI> .

WHO lJKIN(i TIIK INVITATION

CHAPTER YII.

GOD MKiri's riiE KpyruKNixo sinner.

MAUVKM-OUS CONDKSrENSIOK . . • • •

TIIK CAIiL ...•••••

TUK IMIOMI.SK ..•••••*
UEASONS FOR TUIIMNO TO GOD . . . •

140
149

162
166
177
182

188
lf>2
201
209

CHAPTER VIII.
SELF-DENIAL INDISPENS.UiLE TO SALVATION.

SUCCESS ATTAINED WITH DIFFICUIiTY

THE OFFENCE OF THE EYE . . . • •

TREATMENT mESCUIllED . . . • • •

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT . . . . •

CHAPTER IX.

THE lIlcaiTEOUS HONORED IN THE GREAT DAY

. 21«

THE JUDGMENT ..••••• 22O

THE UIGUTEorS ....•••' 229

TIIEIU SENTENCE jgy

THEIR REWARD

CHAPTER X.

THE HOME OF THE REDEEMED.

HEAVEN

ITS eternatj day ,

IT3 ETERNAL BLISS

. 242
. 247
. 254

Vlll

140
141»
1'>U

162
106
177
182

188
li?2
201
209

RGENT APPEALS.

CHAPTER I.

C|t anger of t|e ^linig|tn to be keakl>.

" THOU— Thou art to ])C feared : and who mav stand in Thy sight
when once Thou art angry ? " I'S. Ixxvi. 7v.

The inhabitants of earth have cast off the fear
of God. They have departed from God, and God
has departed from them ; and ceasing to desire or
realize his presence, they have ceased to stand in
awe of Him. Yet they have no peace. For they
are frequently disturbed by a voice within assert-
ing the violation of some law, and threatening the
vengeance of some unseen power. This is the
voice of conscience. The boldest »theist as well
as the most degraded savage is subjected to this
secret alarm. This is not the fear of God but an
inward terror the result of casting off that fear.
Man looks in awe at the manifestations of the
powers of nature, without exhibiting any dread of

rrT

URGENT APPEALS.

■i

\ .

{

i {

i i

I \

the God of nature. The seaman stands with pal-
pitating heart, on the deck of his ship, in the gloom
of a night of tempest, when his struggling vessel
rises on the crest of the wave to have spars bent
and rigging strained, and again descends to the
trough of the sea, to have her deck swept by the
raging billows, yet how seldom do his thoughts
rise above the immediate occasion of his alarm?
The untutored Polynesian rushes from his hut
when the earth quakes beneath him, and while
gazing in mute awe on the volcano in his neigh-
bourhood belching forth its huge columns of lire,
may leel a momentary dread of the displeasure of
some supernatural being, but how little does he
know and how little does he fear that Supreme
Being whose mundane arrangements keep alive
these subterranean fires ? The civilized inhabitant
of earth is often startled by the loud crash of
thunder rolling along the sky and the fitful light-
ning's flash leaping along the earth ; but he hears
and sees what to him is not the voice of the Al-
mighty, and the messenger of his will, but the
rush and the roar of electricity. And even in
those lands where that Book, in which God reveals
himself, has free circulation, how many are found
who, having no desire for the knowledge of God,
and absorbed in the pursuit of the vanities, plea-
sures, and riches of this world, never heartily
study its sacred pages — never search the scriptures

GOD IS TO BE FEARED.

vlth pul-
ic gloom
ig vessel
irs bent
s to the
by the
;hoaii:lits
I alarm?
his hut
d while
s iieigh-
i of fire,
asure of
docs he
supreme
3p alive
habitant
crash of
ul light-
tie hears
the Al-
but the
even in
L reveals
■e found
of God,
s, plea-
heartily

— and therefore fail to realize and reverence the
presence of Him in whom they live and move and
have their being, and who is absent from them at
no moment of their existence? If the ordinary
course of nature in all its simplicity and grandeur,
if its occasional startling providential interrup-
tions, if the possession of the Book of God itself
does not impress the souls of men with an habit-
ual dread of incurring the displeasure of their
Maker, are we not constrained to admit the truth
of that inspired statement concerning the race in
general : * ' There is no fear of God before their
eyes?" Why is this? — The human soul in that
state which is now natural to it, is in such dark-
ness that it cannot apprehend, and in such insen-
sibility that it cannot feel the presence of the unseen
but omnipresent spirit. Every effort must therefore
be made to penetrate this darkness that by the en-
trance of light, life and feeling may be restored.

Reader are you in this darkness ? Do the works
of nature and the wonders of providence reveal to
you the glory of God ? Is their voice heard, or
their utterance comprehended ? You may behold
and admire what is beautiful and grand in nature,
and stand in awe at what is startling in providence,
and yet be devoid of the fear of God. A Himiboldt,
or a Halley, may wander over our globe, or explore
with the telescope the stellar worlds around us,
may gaze upon the natural curiosities, and inves-^

URGENT APPEALS.

-J

i i

* I

tigate the singular phenomena of the one, or cal-
culate the motions and the distances of the other,
and yet never once realize, reverence, or rejoice
in the presence of that Spirit who gave him and
them their being. Experience teaches that they
who rise from nature up to nature's God, have
first had an acquaintance with the God of nature.
Does the word of God so occupy your thoughts
— so * * dwell in you " — as to lead you to aim at
setting the Lord ever before you, or is your know-
ledge of it so superficial and your meditation on it
so rare, that no sense of His presence ever restrains
you from sin or stimulates you in duty ? If so
may I not conclude that spiritual darkness and
insensibility still characterize you — ^that you are a
stranger to God — ^that his fear is not before your
eyes — ^that you are yet in your sins, and in inune-
diate danger of eternal damnation. Let me reason
with you most kindly but faithfully.

I. WHY IS GOD TO BE FEARED?

Because he is holy. Holiness is the essence
of all morality. No being can be called abso-
lutely holy in whom any one feature of morality
is found to be defective. But the term is often
used in a restricted sense, as indicating an absence
from all impurity. Thus God is said to be ** of
purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on
iniquity." God's holiness is perfect and unchange-

WHY 18 GOD TO BE FEARED.

e, or cal-
;he other,
)r rejoice

him and
that they
od, have
f nature.

thoughts
:o aim at
)urknow-
rtion on it
• restrains
Y? If so
:ness and
you are a
fore your
in imme-
ne reason

B essence
ed abso-
morality
I is often
a absence
► be ♦* of
»t look on
nchange-

-i

able. Hence no sin can ever elude his dislike and
opposition. The perfect holiness of Jehovah ren-
ders him an object of profound reverence to the
heavenly hosts. A mortal's ear heard the seraph-
im cry one to another : " Holy, holy, holy is the
Lord of hosts." The commission of sin by any
creature renders that creature an object of aversion
to 1 holy God, and the greater and more numerous
the sins, the greater the degree of aversion. This
aversion leads to separation. No matter how lofty
the spirit, or how near the throne of the Eternal,
sinning, he must depart from the presence of the
holy Jehovah. " For thou art not a God that hath
pleasure in wickedness, neither shall evil dwell
with thee." The angels that kept not their first
estate, have been cast down to hell ; and Adam,
who transgressed the express command of his
maker was cast out of paradise. God's holiness
being unchangeable, this aversion and separation
must continue for ever, unless by some means the
sin of the past be purged away and for/^otten, and
holiness be restored to the creature, and rendered
permanent.

You, therefore, as a sinning mortal have every-
thing to fear from the presence of a holy and sin-
hating God. Did he delight in sin, or did he even
regard it with indifference, you might in the midst
of your sins, maintain the utmost complacency of
mind ; but because " his soul hateth the wicked,"

URGENT APPEALS.

■ )

I '

\ I

\ f

" stand in awe, and sin not." Unpardoned, and
"in your sins," you are a stranger to Him, and
were you to die as you now arc, he could not and
would not admit you into that glory where there
are pleasures forevermore. Reflect, then, that
every additional sin which you commit increases
God's aversion to you, and that aversion ripens
into confirmed hatred, and that hatred, through
perseverance in sin, gi'ows into fury, and that fury,
through contempt of mercy, breaks out into ven-
geance, and the sinner sinks to perdition under the
frown of his holy Creator. If this is the end, what
says reason? — "Wash you, make you clean, put
away the evil of your doings, cease to do evil."
Let the fear of the displeasure of a holy God, deter
you from every sin, as the fear of losing your life
would deter you from planting your foot on a
rolling stone on the verge of a precipice.

God is to be feared, because he is Just. He is just
who renders to every one his due. God as the su-
preme ruler is perfectly just. This perfection is
everywhere attributed to Him in scripture. There
he is described as " a God of truth and without ini-
quity ^ just and right is he." And even in accom-
plishing what seems incompatible with j ustice , name-
ly, saving those who have rebelled against him from
merited punishment, it is careful to assert that he
is " a just God " while yet " a Saviour." He is re-
presented as revered and adored for his justice by

AVIIY IS GOD TO BE FEARED.

the saints in glory when they exclaim : " Great
and niarv^ellous are thy works Lord God Almighty ;
just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints."
They wlio have no sin, and who are forever freed
from all danger of sinning may revere God for his
justice, while they stand in no dread of it; but
they who have sinned and are habitually sinning
have reason to tremble at the thought of it. The
children of men can only excuse themselves for
not fearing a just God on one of two grounds, either
tlicy do not transgress Kis commands or they can-
not and will not be compelled to answer for their
conduct before His tribunal. Few are so ignorant
or so depraved as to deny that they are sinners
against God ; and none can doubt that they shall
yet appear before the bar of God without impug-
ning divine revelation, and disregarding the con-
victions and foreshadowings of their own con-
sciences. Hear the God of truth on these two
points. "There is none righteous, no, not one:"
All have sinned and come shoii; of. the glory of
God." And, " we must all appear before the judg-
ment seat of Christ, that every one may receive
the things done in his body, according to that he
hath done, whether it be good or bad." He will
not lay upon man more than is right ; but he will
exact that right ; " for every man shall bear his own
burden." Though in this life the wicked often
seem to prosper, and the righteous are oppressed,

URGENT APPEALS.

■• i

' 1

yet even here, proofs are not wanting that God has
marked the conduct of transgressors, and will re»
ward them according to their deeds. In his just
indignation he destroyed untold millions in the
dreadful catastrophe of a general deluge. This
was no hasty and inconsiderate act of retribution,
for "the longsuflTering of God waited" for one
hundred and twenty years for the repentance and
reformation of an ungodly race, but in vain. In
like manner, he overthrew the cities of the plain
of Jordan, consuming their dwellings and sub-
merging their land, the elements above and the
earth beneath, combining as in the former judg-
ment to execute the righteous displeasure of their
Creator. These cities in their sudden and terrible
doom "are set forth" says the apostle Jude, "for
an example " of God's justice against sinners suf-
fering the vengeance of eternal fire.'' In respect
to individuals, instances of the swift vengeance of
a just God are no less striking. The fire of God
strikes dead, in a moment, the two sons of Aa-
ron for approaching Him, and presuming to
serve Him, in a way expressly forbidden. A hus-
band and wife, Ananias and Sapphira, are instant-
ly smitten with death for deception and lying
against the Holy Ghost. These examples are
sufficient. The justice which requires one sin to
be visited with merited punishment, will if impar-
tial, require every sin to be treated in a similar

WHY IS OOI) TO BE FEAKED.

Srod has
will re-
his just
iu the
This
bution,
for Olio
nee and
in. In
le plain
id sub-
md the
r judg-
of their
terrible
le, "for
ers suf-
respect
ance of
of God
of Aa-
iing to
Ahus-
instant-
l lying
les are
) sin to
impar-
similar

iTiJinnor. Jehovah's justice is as impartial as it is
inflexible. He " will I>y no means clear the guilty.'
If the reader seek a proof for this, let him look on
Him who is stretched on the cross on C^alvary.
He who hangs there dyiiiir in gloom is legally
guilty, though personally innocent. Justice will
not suffer the sinner's cup to pass from the lips of
the sinner's substitute, although that substitute be
no less a personage than the eternal Son of the
supreme God. Who hereafter can ever doubt
that God is just ? When his })eloved Son undertook
to bear our burdens, and atone for our sins, the
just jndge exclaims — " Awake O sword ! against
my shepherd, and against the man that is my Fellow
saith the Lord of hosts — smite the shepherd." If
God spared not his own Son, when bearing the
sins of others how can the sinner expect that he
will escape the wrath of God when bearing his own
sins? It is absolutely hopeless.

Unconverted reader, God has marked every sin
of your past life, and he will bring you into judg-
ment for them all. You cannot, if you would, re-
move from under his eye, even for one moment.
You cannot, if you would, prevent him from mark-
ing down in the book of his remembrance every sin
as you commit it. You cannot, if you would, by
any possibility, prevent your personal appearance
before Him in judgment. And you cannot, if you
would, resist the execution of his sentence, al-

UIIGENT A PPE ALS .

! ;

I i

I il

tlioufifli it .should ('()iisi<Trii yt)U to the fljimos that shall
iievor l)c qiKuidhod. O tlitMi should you not fear
him becaus(! he is just !

God is to he feared beeause he is almighty.
If man drejids the powers of nature, why not the
God of nature? They are but the instruments.
His the arm that wields them. Man erouches ])c-
ncath the overhanging roek to escape the ])last of
of the hurricane, he starts back with terror when
the fierv arrows of heaven flash before him, he
creeps to his cabin to seek shelter from the resist-
less sweep of the ocean billow, and flies with con-
sternation from the yawning chasm of the earth-
quake, and yet maintains the most perfect indifl"-
orence with regard to the displeasure of that Being
of whose might these are but the faintest indica-
tions. " If I speak of strength lo ! He is strong."
Is tliere anything too hard for the Almighty ?

To attempt to prove his omnipotence is neadless,
fully to describe it is impossible. His own lan-
guage is best adapted to illustrate his character.
Of himself he says : " Who hath measured the
waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out
heaven with a span, and comprehended the dust
of the earth in a measure, and weighed the moun-
tains in scales and the hills in a balance." What
can he not do ? He can shake the mountains out
of their place — sweep the bed of the ocean dry —
rend the earth into fragments — crash the machinery

VniY IS GOD TO BE FEAIIEI).

it shall
)t fear

Ighty.
)()t the
incuts,
lies ])c-
►last of
when
hn, he

resist-
h cou-

earth-

iiicliff-
\ Being
indica-
:ro ng."
^?

adless,
'^n lan-
racter.
ed the
ted out
le dust
moun-

What
ins out

dry—
;hinery

of our system with his grasp, and toss the criunhled
atoms ])evond the l)oundaries of order ; ves — He
can rise in his might ami extinguish forever, those
millions f)f lights that pierc(! our heavens with their
rays, ai:d people with fresh creations of his hand
the boundless realms of space. AVho then shall
contend with God ? What madness for the insig-
nificant creature man to dash his head against the
Rock of Ages ! If the uare ^>ssil)ility of incurring
the displeasure of such a miglity one should awake
a AvholesouK* fear, wliat should be the feeling of
those who, times without number, have provoked
him to anifer ? If vou could withstand him or his
approach, if your armour could prove impenetrable
to his arrows, if you could laugh when his flaming
sword flashes before your eyes, or if you could es-
cape at your pleasure the fleetest pursuit of his
wrath, there might be some reason for your present
inditforcncc and imaginaiy security ; but when the
worm beneath your foot is less at your disposal
than you are at his — when his very frown can an-
nihiliite you, or fill you with terrors which eternity
will not assuage, how can you disregard Lis will
or trample on his laws, and still cry peace, peace,
to your deluded soul? You do not question Je-
hovah's might, you cannot question the sinner's
exposure to the full force of his vengeance, and
why do you not question that strange security in
which you rest, and to which you blindly cling?

URCfENT APPEALS.

'•\i

I S'.

■« i

We do not oxpoct tho stunned com])atant to heed
the exploding niaguzine on which he lies, or the
shiuofhtcn^d nisirine to rise from the blood smeared
deck of his battered and dismantled and now sink-
ing ship, but might W(; not expect that the boasted
reason of man would give him some note of alarm
in time to escape from the unspeakable dangers of
an impenitent state ? Reason has failed, God must
speak, and his voice alone can awaken the slumber-
ing sinner to a consciousness of his real condition.
God is also to be feared because he is true. He is
styled the " God of truth." Of him it is emphatically
said: "He cannot lie." And what has He said?
He has uttered to man many gracious promises,
and many awful threatenings. It is only to a few
of the latter that your attention is now asked. He
said to Adam : " In the day that thou eatest there-
of (the forbidden fruit) thou shalt surely die."
Man did eat, and that very hour he died. His
soul till that moment of disobedience enjoyed the
presence of God which was its life ; that presence
was withdrawn, and the soul died, as an immortal
soul only can die, although the full horrors of that
death were not immediately developed. He said
at the time of the flood : " The end of all flesh is
come before Me, and behold I will destroy them
from the earth." The days of respite ended, this
most terrible judgment, so long talked of and at
which so many had laughed, came and left not a

■P

WHY 18 GOD TO BK FFIAKEI).

o heed
or the
neared
V sink-
oasted
■ alarm
<^ers of
d must
[imbcr-
dition.
He in
itically
3 said?
)mises,

a few
L He
b there-
y die."
. His
^ed the
•eseuce
imoi-tal
of that
le said
flesh is
y them
jd, this

and at

1 not a

■.•■<■

soul alive on the sui-faeo of our tjlohe save those
within the ark. And nuiny ii<xqh after, speakin<jf
of the just retribution that should come upon Je-
rusalem for her extraordinary crimes he said : '' In
those days shall l)e afllietion such as was not from
the beginning of the crcjition which God created
unto this time, neither shall be " — and history re-
cords that the sufferings of those besieged by Titus,
in the city of Jerusalem, were unparalled in the an-
nals of warfare . To our race he has uttered this gen-
eral threat : ' The soul that sinneth it shall die," and
universal experience proclaims the fulfilment of the
decree. Judging from these testimonies and ex-
amples must we not conclude that all his threaten-
ings against particular sins shall be fulfilled. He
has said that he will render " to them that are con-
tentious and do not obey the truth, indignation and
wrath, tribulation and anguish upon every soul of
man that doeth evil." Let those who cavil at
God's word and despise instruction take warning.
He has said : " He that believeth not shall be
damned ;" and he will no doubt keep his word, al-
though it should result in the eternal ruin of mil-
lions. Against those who refuse his call, and
make light of his invitations he pronounced some
special threats — He ** will laugh at their calamity
and mock when their fear cometh — when they call
upon him he will not answer, and though they
seek him early they shall not find him." Such

UmJKNT APPEALS.

throfits are intensely jilarniin^to all who have heard
the <2fo.spel and have not yet been reeoneiled to God.
The hopes, therefore, of the impenitent and un-
pardoned rest upon the groundless supposition,
that God, to favor his enemies, will prove himself
a liar ! Will you, unconverted reader, risk your
eternal interests upon such a broken plank ? Thou,
even Thou most holy, just, mighty, and true God
art to be feared, and who may stand in thy sight
when once Thou art angry?

II. WHAT PROVOKES HIM TO ANGER?

Any and every sin, being an act of rebellion
against his righteous authority, and fatal to his
moral workmanship, awakens his displeasure.
But some sins especially provoke his indignation.
A few of these may be illustrated. Among such
sins j)ride holds the first place. This sin is an
idolization of self. It fastens on some real or im-
aginary excellence, physical, mental or accidental,
and so feeds upon it, that it raises in the mind the
most extravagant ideas of its superiority in this or
in many respects over others. It is generally
considered as the original sin of that fallen spirit
who is styled in scripture the god of this world
and " the prince of the power of the air." So far as
our conceptions can reach amid the gloom of earth,
and where scripture is not explicit, this is highly
probable. Satan was an angel of exalted rank and

J t'.—S'v <A i«^i^&-%...^%

^dtrsJi^ii ^ _-^hia£-^.^.^:^!3va^»liiuf:u»> J

^i^'St..i.h^i^d^.:^i*,h^SS&-

WHAT rUOVOKES UIM TO ANCSKIt.

of <rr<'«>t Mild hrilliant powers. His superiority over
inanv was seen and felt. Tlie eomparison, we may
suppose, le<l liini to suel» an admiration of his tran-
seendant irifts as in his ereature-weakness in iuced
u self-irloryinir, a self idoli/in<r wliich rohlied the
Most Ili.u:!! of the glory due to him ah)ne, and the
son of light, the brilliant star of heaven sank to
rise no more. This is certain, that all the devils,
glorying in themselves rather than in their Maker,
are now guilty of pride. They have stamped their
imag(^ on the race which they have seduced into
rebellion, and now pride is universally character-
istic of the fallen descendants of Adam. It may
excite wonder that a people so low in the scale of
rational l)eing, so depraved in their nature, and so
destitute in their spiritual condition, should still
entertain high ideas of their own excellence. But
the truth is, their excellence and independance arc
purely imaginary. They imagine themselves to
be rich and increased in goods and to have need
of nothing, \7hen in reality they are " wretched and
miserable, and poor, and blind and naked," So
disgusting are such to God, that he says he would
" spue them out of his mouth." Pride is idolatry,
and idolatry so destructive that it rivets the chains
on the captive, and closes the door against help,
and disdains the proffered aid of the Almighty
himself. While the Most High stoops to hold in-
tercourse with the lowly on earth, he beholds the

URGENT APPEALS.

i '

if:'

proud from a distance, " resists " them, and denies
them admission to his presence. It exchides from
the kingdom of heaven, when the contrary di.;po-
sition secures its possession ; for Christ has said :
"Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven." The soul under its influence
asserts its own goodness, denies the rectitude of
God's law, spurns the righteousness of Christ, and
impudently disputes God's right to reign in and
over his own creatures. Is it any wonder that this
sin provokes the Lord to anger ?

Reader, does pride reign in your heart ? or have
you seen your own vileness, and like Job abhorred
yourself and repented in dust and ashes ? He who
reduced and humbled the haught}'^ and God-defying
Pharaoh, he who poured contempt on the proud
Sennacherib, hurrying him back ia disgrace to his
own land, he who brought down the vain-glorious
Nebuchadnezzar from his magnificent hanging gar-
dens, stripped him of his royal robes, and turned
him out to eat grass like an ox, will surely, sooner
or later, compel you to stoop low indeed before
him. Your hopes for eternity rest on your speedy
and profound self abasement before Jehovah.

A second sin of darkest hue is sensuality. As
pride is a perversion of the spirit, so sensuality is
a perversion of the body. It is a subjection of the
spirit to sense, and such a subjection as degrades,
enfeebles ?nd destroys both soul and body. When

>VHAT PROVOKES HIM TO ANGER.

the soul is once fully enslaved, it becomes a will-
ing captive, and imagines, thinks, plans, and de-
termines solely for the gratification of sense.
This sin is, and has been in all ages, universally
prevalent. The history of all ancient nations, and
the abounding]; drunkenness and licentiousness a-
mong the modern, plainly warrant this statement.
Christ and his apostles represent sins of this class
as the common disgrace of humanity. Such gene-
ral results must have a general cause. The sim-
ple fact is, man having ceased to find his supreme
happiness in God, has sought it through the crea-
ture, and that chiefly by the gratification of sense.
The limited and subordinate enjoyment of the crea-
ture was allowed, but man has made it exclusive and
supreme. The gratification of the sight and the
taste was involved in the first great sin, and ever
since, sense has asserted a right to dictate its will
to the human soul. Alas ! that the soul should so
readily accede to that dictation. Body and soul
have sufiered together and fallen together. The
passions are now always unruly, easily become ex-
cessive, and frequently become ungovernable.
With sins of sensuality God is greatly provoked.
After enumerating some of these, the apostle Paul
adds : " For which things sake the wrath of God
cometh on the children of disobedience." God is
displeased because it destroys his workmanship.
The human body is the most extraordinary and

URGENT APPEALS.

• (fi

\ <i

admirable material creation on earth. Sensuality
utterly debases and destroys it. The body was in-
tended to be the temple of God — ^this sin not only
deprives God of his right of dwelling there, but
renders the body extremely offensive even to man.
Its natural result is death, the dissolution of the
body, corruption. " He that soweth to his flesh,
shall of the flesh reap corruption."

Reader, have you "walked after the flesh?"
Has the " carnal mind " reigned in you ? If so, you
have been defiling and destroying the temple of the
holy God, and he threatens to destroy you for so
doing. Continue a little longer in this course, and
even sin will cease to gratify you, for your appeti-
tes will become insatiable and your condition in-
curable. Say, is not the past time of your life
more than sufficient to have wrought the will of the
flesh ? And for what profit ? — awake to rights
eousness and sin not,

Another sin little thought of, though very com-
mon, and iiTitating in a high degree, is indolence
duidr.g the respite of divine mercy. Indolence is
a waste of gifts, privileges, and opportunities.
God has given man powers to be exercised wisely
and usefully. Indolence enfeebles these powers,
and deprives the possessor and others of the benefit
that might be derived from them. Culpable at all
times, it is doubly so in the midst of poverty, de-
struction and danger. Who can enter the abode of

WHAT PROVOKES HIM TO ANGER.

Sensuality
ly was in-
i not only
here, but
n to man.
on of the
his flesh,

e flesh?"
If so, you
pie of the
^ou for so
>urse, and
ur appeti-
dition in-
your life
svillofthe
to rights

^ery com-
indolence
iolence is
»rtunities.
ed wisely
) powers,
he benefit
able at all
i^erty, de-
e abode of

penury, and witness all the evils attending want, of
which the main cause is known to be idleness, with-
out experiencing a feeling of censure rise within
him ? Who can excuse the indolence that would
fold the arms in mute indifierence while a confla-
gration is seizing a neighbour's dwelling, or a rising
flood is sweeping away his property? And who
can repress his indignation when human life is at
stake, and the means of assistance within reach, to
see mere sloth restrain active exertion until all ef-
fort is hopeless ? And this indignation is not a little
[increased when the subject of sloth is one specially
'\ appointed to rescue those who are ready to perish.
And intensity is added to it when the perishing
one is suspended for a time between life and death
iWith the express view of being saved. Now God
beholds man, the chief of his works on earth, pin-
ing in spiritual destitution, consuming in the fires
of corruption, and ready to sink into the pit of
I perdition. This last and irremediable woe, the de-
|mand of his inflexible justice, is delayed in infinite
I mercy in the hope that the sinner, by repentance
and timely effort, may escape. The Lord is not
slack concerning either his promises, or his threat-
enings, but is longsuffering to us-ward not willing
[that any should perish, but that all should come to
[repentance." Therefore does he "wait that he
I may be gracious;" and therefore does he call to
the perishing : Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die I

'^■^i't^^JiieA^iJ^', Ifiik'At

U^,^

URGENT APPEALS.

M {I

,. i

and in the urgency of the occasion exclaims : '* To-
day if ye hear my voice harden not your hearts."
Yet such is the carnal security, and inveterate
spiritual indolence of fallen man, that the threaten-
ings and promises alike of the great Jehovah often
fail to arouse him to exertion. Man has a soul
to save ; and no amount of diligence in any world-
ly calling will excuse him for neglecting his eter-
nal salvation. One thing is needful; and until
that has been properly attended to, anything which
would set it aside, or give it a mere secondary
place is unlawful. But why should God be angry
with man for neglecting his own salvation? If
man perish, is it not his own loss? But I an-
swer, is man his own master? Has he a right to
dispose of himself as he pleases ? Is suicide less
heinous than murder ? Provocation or necessity
may be urged as an excuse for taking away the
life of another ; what provocation or necessity can
be urged for taking away one's own life? We
would all condemn most sincerely the man that
would cause the eternal damnation of another man's
soul, why not condemn, in like manner, the man
who would cause his own damnation? If it is a
sin to expose the soul to divine wrath, is it not a
greater sin to persist in that exposure? And if
God would be angry in the former case, would he
not be specially so in the latter? You may now
see that indolence in the impenitent sinner, while

TBi^mm

»i» i- .jmrwmmKf^img!'

WHAT PROVOKES HIM TO ANGER.

ms : *' To-
r hearts."
inveterate
5 threaten-
3Vah often
las a soul
tny world-
y his eter-

and until
ling which
secondary
1 be angry
ation ? If
But I an-

a right to
licide less
r necessity

away the
jessity can
life? We

man that
ther man's
:, the man

If it is a
is it not a
? And if
, would he
I may now
mer, while

God waits to be gracious, and delays his justice for
that purpose, is not only sin, but a confirmation of
sin in its worst form, and provokes an outburst of
the divine indignation. Reader, are you working
out your own salvation with fear and trembling, or
are you crying, ' peace and safety ' — when sudden
destruction is coming upon you ?

The companion of this sin is another not less
oflfensive — despising God's warnings. Its very
spirit is breathed in the following language from
Isaiah. Answering the Almighty, bold and pro-
fane men say : " Let him make speed and hasten
his work that we may see it ; and let the counsel
of the Holy One of Israel draw nigh and come that
we may know it !" Amos replies to them by saying :
" Woe unto you that desire the day of the Lord I
to what end is it for you ? — ^the day of the Lord is
darkness and not light."

Warning proceeds from friendliness. An en-
emy does not give notice of coming danger. To
despise God's warning is to cast a reflection on his
foreknowledge or friendliness, and to set up our
own judgment as superior to his. How often did
I he complain of this treatment from his ancient
people I Why were they subdued and oppressed
;by the nations that lay along their borders ? Why
were the Assyrians allowed to carry them captives ?
And why long afterwards was their renowned city,
Jerusalem, destroyed by the Koman conqueror,

-.,:'-L^'>y.>,:J!^.VJiiJ:iL-J'»I.,:-ii::v At.i-X''''!'^t>J^'iat^'iL.-~S-

.1/

I i

URGENT APPEALS.

and they themselves scattered over the earth ? One
answer meets all — they persistently despised the
warnings of God. How often does God refer to
the messages sent to them by his servants the pro-
phets ; which messages generally remained un-
heeded. P itience at last has run its course ; for-
bearance has ceased ; and so great is the provoca-
tion that God refuses to be entreated of by them ;
he forbids his messenger to pray for them ; and de-
clares that although three of the greatest favorites
of heaven, Noah, Daniel, and Job stood up to plead
for them, their destruction would not be averted.
Let no one imagine that he may safely despise even
one admonition from heaven. God governs his
creatures to-day on the same principles on which
he governed them three thousand years ago. In-
creased light will increase the guilt of sin com-
mitted in it. And the man who habitually dis-
regards friendly advice in a matter of so much
importance as Ms soul's salvation can have no one
to blame but himself, if the dangers so often ad-
dressed to his unwilling ears should some day sud-
denly overtake him, and all his efforts to escape
prove utterly futile. God will not meet him "as
a man," but as the avenging Judge, and even rocks
and mountains will then fail to hide him from the
face of him who sits on the throne and from the
wrath of the Lamb. O take warning and flee in
time from the wrath now coming.

WHAT PROVOKES HIM TO ANGER.

rth? One
pised the
I refer to
3 the pro-
Eiined un-
rse ; for-
provoca-
3y them ;
; and de-
favorites
) to plead
averted,
pise even
irerns his
on which
igo. In-
sin com-
lally dis-
so much
''e no one
often ad-
day sud-
;o escape
him "as
ven rocks
from the
from the
id flee in

'it.

One more sin I shall mention ; it is the sin of
rejecting the Son of God. This is the crowning sin :
it is the greatest of all sins. It puts the seal of
damnation on the soul. It not only rejects salva-
tion hut rejects it at the hand of its author. It
says, ' I will not be saved, although God himself
should come to save me.* It rejects the Father
who sent, and the Spirit wb) endowed the Son.
It disregards the love of the Father, the gifts of the
Spirit, and the condescension, compassion and
power of the Son. It locks the only door by which
the sinner can escape from his prison, and throws
away the key. It turns the back upon heaven,
and surrenders the soul to the guidance and con-
trol of hell. It puts the foot upon all the mercies
of God, and raises the hand of defiance against the
Almighty. It treats as weakness the delays of
justice, and scorns as deception the alarms of dan-
ger. This is strong language, yet it is a truthful
description of a very common sin. It will be ad-
mitted that if anything on earth could provoke the
indignation of the Lord it would be this sin. The
truth is, God is angry with the wicked every day,
and for no sin more than for rejecting his Son.
He is still without form or comeliness in the eyes
of the worldly ; he is daily despised and rejected
of men, as of old ; he comes to his own, but his
own receive him not ; and while his servants urge
obedience to Him as the only lawful ruler, they

,ii.^

0,. i

URGENT APPEALS.

receive as a reply — " We will not have this man to
rule over us." Reader, have you received this
Saviour in the arms of a living faith ? Have you
enthroned him in the purest affections of a loving
heart? Beware of delay, Receive him now, and
heaven is yours.

III. WHO SILVIX STAND WHEN GOD RISES UP
, TO TAKE VENGEANCE?

Not the monarcha and nobles, whose only excel-
lence is their earthly grandeur. " And the kings
of the earth, and the great men . . and the chief
captains and the mighty men . . hid themselves
in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains, and
said to the mountains and rocks, — ^Fall on us and
hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the
throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb."

Their high rank in the sight of men adds nothing
to their dignity in the sight of God. God looks
upon the heart ; and the soul of a beggar may, in
his estimation, be more noble than the soul of an
emperor. The power which they could wield on
earth fails them in the hour of death, and the ho-
mage which they could claim from man, secures
no respect at the bar of the Eternal. They stand
as helpless as the meanest slave in their dominions,
when the^ Almighty summons them to their account.

Not the rich, who love this present evil world.
How is mammon worshipped in this generation !

WHO SHALL STAND WHEN GOD AVENGES. 33

s man to
ved this
lave you
a loving
tow, and

5ES UP

ily excel-
le kings
the chief
emselves
lins, and
n us and
ti on the

nothing

3d looks

may, in

ul of an

iv^ield on

the ho-

secures
ey stand
ninions,
account.
1 world,
eration !

How eager the race to })e rich ; and in their haste
how many ** fall into temptation and a snare, and
into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown
men in destruction and perdition I" While they
increase their wealth, thev increase their difficulties
in getting to heaven. The rich may enter the
kingdom of God, but it is " hardly." But they
who trust in their wealth, and delight in it as their
sole portion cannot redeem their souls from death,
nor purchase exemption from the torments of liell.
Wluit availed all the wealth of that rich man, of
whom JesuH speaks, when in the place of woe he
could not obtain so much as a drop of cold water?
What does the Almighty care for the sordid dust
of earth with which so many strive to burden them-
selves. Their gold and silver may bribe an earth-
ly judge, and may avert the stroke of justice from
a guilty head, but God will condemn and strike
down the richest of his foes, as if he were the
poorest of the poor.

Not the men of science ^ who are destitute ot
the knowledge of Christ. Scientific attainments
and high erudition, may secure to man fame, may
adorn him with titles of rank, and put him in
possession of wealth ; but with all this, he may re-
main in spiritual ignorance, unrenewed in heart
and an enemy of God. The human soul has lost
its power of perceiving the things of the spirit of
God as they really are ; hence it calls evil, good,

■ii.Si«^J-.!«» J.' ->., ^SJltii^r

URGENT APPEALS.

? i

and good, evil ; and puts bitter for sweet, and
sweet for bitter. The restoration of spiritual sight
is the work of the Holy Ghost alone, and with it
follow a belief and a love of the truth. Without
this illumination the greatest scholar knows not
God ; cannot love him ; does not serve him ; and
when God arises to take vengeance will tremble
and fall before him, undistinguished except by the
intensity of his dismay, from the most ignorant
savage. "Not many wise are called." "Thou
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent."
Not the nominal Christian. External appearance
may deceive man, but not God. A profession of
religion, without its possession, is self deception
or hypocrisy, either of which is an abomination
before God. Disrobed by death of his assumed
garb, he will appear before God in his proper spir-
itual nakedness ; and confounded by the expo-
sure, he will sink in terror from his sight into the
abyss of woe.

Not the proud. His disturbed visage betrays
his dismay. His high looks have come down : and
trembling in every joint, he awaits with abject
terror, the execution of his sentence of eternal hu-
miliation.

Not the sensual. He carries with him a disease
which excludes him from the general assembly of
the saints : and on his corniptions feeds the worm
that never dies.

,«r

WHO SHALL STAND WHEN GOD AVENGES. 35

ft.

Not the slothful. His soul's salvation has been
nesrlected. His master's work has not been done.
The command goes forth — "Bind him hand and
foot, and cast him into outer darkness, where
there is weeping and gnashing of teeth."

Not the despiser of warnings. Where now is
his courage ? Where now are the vain hopes on
which he rested? Can his heart endure or his
hands be strong, now that God is dealing with him ?
Alas ! his agony is unutterable — a flood of wrath
overwhelms him.

Not the rejecter of Christ. He has refused re-
conciliation ; now he shall feel the force of indig-
nation. He would not be a friend, and he shall
be treated as a foe ; and as such he shall be made
Christ's footstool and be slain before him. Who
shall intercede for him ? Not a voice shall be raised
in all the countless throng of the saved to stay, for
one moment, the execution of the sentence of e-
ternal execration. O hearer of the gospel beware !

But THESE shall be safe in the day of venge-
ance, viz ;

The regenerate. These are the spiritual off-
spring of God, the work of his hands in which he
delights. Conformed to the image of his Son, and
enrolled among his children, they find shelter un-
der the shadow of his wings.

The reconciled. Once in rebellion, now they
are loyal subjects ; once filled with hatred to God,

1 1

3fi

UKOENT APPEALS.

'.II

now they are tilled with love to him. Once God
wan angry with thcni ; but they dreaded his dis-
pleasure, and fled for refuge to the hope set before
them in the gospel : they made their peace with
God, while the day of mercy lasted by trusting in
the atonement of C.hrist. Now clothed in the
bright robes of his righteousness, no voice of con-
demnation can be raised against them ; God him-
self delights to look upon them ; the holy angels
greet them as their companions ; and they feel
perfectly safe, amid the conflagrations of the
heavens and the earth.

The sanctified. The fire of God's anger fastens
on the sinner wherever he is found ; it leaves the
saint unscathed. Blessed are the pure in heart, for
they shall see God. Christ presents them to his
Father without spot or wrinkle or any such thing ;
and thus perfected in holiness, they are welcomed
with ineffable joy. A wide gulf will separate them
for ever from the objects of divine wrath.

The self-denying. These parted with what was
as dear as a right eye, hand, or foot rather than
offend God. Now they are rewarded. They sa-
crificed ease, liealth, wealth, home, friendships,
honour and life itself, at the call of duty. Now
they are distinguished ; and what was lost is re-
stored a thousand-fold. They have passed through
great tribulations, reproaches, persecutions, dun-
geons, and flames — to their place of safety, the
right hand of their Judge.

WHO WLVLL STAND WHEN GOD AVENGES. 37

Those who love the Lord Jesus Christ. Love
is the first principle of true religion. No man is
a disciple of Christ who does not love Christ su-
premely. And where this love really exists, it
will constrain the soul to honour and obey him Avith
a zeal, intensity and perseverence proportionate
to its power. When Christ who is their life shall
appear they shall exclaim : " Lo ! this is our God :
we have waited for him. and he will save us : this
is the Lord we have waited for him we will be
glad and rejoice in his salvation." They are safe
indeed, everlastingly safe. And,

All who have xaadQii their delight to glorify God.
Man's chief end was to glorify God, and in so doing
to enjoy him for ever. His rebellion has dishonor-
ed God, and brought destruction on himself; but
his renovation and consequent new obedience glo-
rify God and bring salvation to man. They glorify
God, and fulfil theii* whole duty, who habitually fear
him and keep his commandments ; and his chief
command is : " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ
and thou shalt be saved."

Reader, where shall your place be in the great
day of Jehovah*s anger ?

p.,.-'t3;Sfl=^*^^Js-i-^'^'.-

CHAPTER II.

Cottsiberation kmankb bg §A

** Now consider this, ye that foreet God, lest I tear you in pieces,
and there bo none to deliver." Psal. l. 22v.

Want of due consideration occasions the ruin
of multitudes, both for time and eternity. The
covetous man, in his eagerness to be rich, will not
reflect on the consequences of extortion, roguery,
and theft, until the loss of substance, reputation,
or liberty convince him of his mistake. The vo-
tary of pleasure will rush into the whirl of dissi-
pation, and flit round in its giddy circles, not
considering that health, peace, and honor are the
high price paid for the short-lived enjoyment. The
man of fashion must live as splendidly, dress as
finely, and drive about as gayly as his neighbour,
whatever be his wealth, without stooping to the
irksome task of balancing his income with his ex-
penditure, until the pressure of uneasy creditors
suddenly shuts off the stream of his resources, strips
him of his grandeur and leaves him in the cold

CONSIDERATION DEMANDED BY GOD.

shades of poverty, or compels him to hide his shame
in a foreign land. On a wider field inconsidera-
tion, less frequently perhaps, but more sweepingly
slays its victims. The driver of a passenger train
on a railway heeds not the signal that another train
is coming down on the same track, but rushes
thoughtlessly onward until a terrific crash blends
the fragments of engines and cars together, and
buries beneath their ruins scores of dead and
wounded. The captain of an emigrant ship navi-
gates her safely across the ocean. The land is
made in the gloom of the evening, and instead of
laying to till the light of the morning would reveal
his true position, he holds on his way, mistakes a
light on the shore, and drives his ship with her
living freight hard up on a dangerous ledge lying
out from the shore. As yet there is hope, but ere
midnight arrives the storm rises, the ship breaks up,
and amid the storm, darkness, and tempest, few out
of hundreds escape a watery grave, and those who
do, find themselves in dreariness and want on a
strange land. A commanding officer suffers him-
self to be deceived by a wily foe, and pursues
what appears to be a retreating army ; wh^n sud-
denly the enemy rises in his rear, and immediately
shows himself in front also ; he is surrounded,
compelled to fight on most unequal terms, and a
reckless and most fruitless waste of life is the re-
ward of his indiscretion.

URGENT APPEALS.

But it is in the great concerns of eternity that
the most lamentable and fatal results of inconsider-
ation appear. The inhabitants of earth occupy
their thoughts with the affairs of time to the almost
total exclusion of the things of eternity. With
multitudes the sole questions of any impoiiance in
their eyes are, what shall we eat? what shall we
drink? and wherewithal shall we be clothed? A
timely and satisfactory provision for the world to
come seems to elicit no concern. Many in their
thirst for pleasure will not stop to think whether
the stream from which they are drinking is poison-
ing or life-giving — their lusts are insjtia; ' > ; and
they will drink the fascinating cup within their
grasp, although the dregd should prove the despair
of damnation. Many will sti*uggle up the rugged,
steep, and slippery heights of ambition, expending
their utmost energies to acquire the fame of great
men, who will not pause to consider the vanity of
the prize for which they risk and sacrifice so much ;
and who are so absorbed in their pursuit that they
totally exclude from their minds the much mo:"o
noble and more urgent task of securing the apjp r
bation of Him whose single plaudit outweighs tli*
approbation of all creation. And a still greater
number will spend a score of years in laboring to
acquire a fortune, for which they will cross oceans
or deserts, and endure all manner of hardship, toil
and privation, who could not be induced to devote

CONSIDERATION DEMANDED BY GOD.

one year to anxious thought how they might obtain
an eternal inheritance in heaven.

Forjretfulness of God is the main cause of this
want of reflection in regard to the things of eternity.
If men thought more of God, they would think
more about eternity, and be less carried away by
the allurements, and less disturbed by the annoy-
ances of time. By shutting God out of mind they
act inconsiderately and foolishly — they spend their
strength for that which will not profit in the end —
they neglect their soul's salvation — they live and
die in sin, and perish for ever.

Reader, do you consider your ways ? Do you
ponder the path which you are now treading ? And
have you chosen it with the lamp of God's word
in your hand ? Or, regarding your own judgment
as sufficient to direct you, have you ignored the
counsels of the Most High, and resolved to follow
the bent of your own inclinations, let the conse-
quences be what they may ? If so, let me tell you,
you will find the experiment to be disastrous.
Thousands before you have tried the same course,
and have either repented of their folly and returned
back, or have passed on to inevitable destruction.

God now calls you to consider your ways, and
threatens that if, through thoughtlessness, or ob-
stinacy, you persevere in sin he will destroy you
without mercy — ^tearing in pieces when there can
be none to deliver.

URGENT APPEALS.

I. WHO ARE ADDRESSED BY GOD.?

Those who forget him. *^ Now consider this, yc
that forget God." To forget is to let slip from
the memory what was once heard or known. Those
who forget God must, at one time, have heard or
known something of his works or laws or character.
This knowledge has been displaced or buried by
what was to them more interesting or more urgent,
more impressive or more important. Unregener-
ate men, everywhere, do not like to retain the
kr^owledge of God in their minds. A conscious-
li^ of guilt makes the remembrance of the just
Judge unpleasant ; and hence they seek to exclude
him from their thoughts that they may the more
quietly pursue their chosen course. Still the for-
getfulness is not absolute or perpetual. No ra-
tional creature can live without realizing, at one
time or other, the presence or the existence of his
Creator. But the remembrance in this case is so
occasional, and so evanescent, that the forgetful-
ness may be characterized as habitual. The life
is not regulated by these random thoughts of God ;
they are simply the ruffling of the surface by
passing breezes, while the current is setting strong-
ly in the opposite direction. The mind is then
swollen with ideas of self sufficiency, discoloured by
the violence of unruly passions, and carried on-
ward by the unrestrained impulse of habitual vanity
of speech and life. God is forgotten when,

S<:

WHO ARE ADDRESSED BY GOD.

;ase is so

Men of unregenerate minds make their own
feelings the rule of their conduct. This implies
that their feelings do not flow forth towards God.
Is it not true ? Is it customary to find men anx-
iously enquiring after God their maker ? Is it not
the declaration of the Holy Ghost — "There is none
that seeketh after God ?" Their thoughts, feelings,
and inclinations all tend in the opposite direction.
Their feelings are not devotional, therefore they
seldom pray unto God, and the spontaneous up-
lifting of the heart in praise is an exercise with
which they have no familiarity. If the feelings are
to be the guide, and they turn away from God and
his service as subjects with which they have no
sympathy, and in which they find no enjoyment,
will they not lead the soul to things more congenial
to its fallen nature, and will not these things be as
much as possible alien to God, and tend to banish
all remembrance of him from the mind ? Their
feelings are not elevated and holy, but low and
grovelling, and following them, they are led away
from God, and indulge in sin — they give the reins
to their lusts, and lest they should be restrained
from their purposes, they will not turn to give a
last lingering look towards Him from whom uiey
seek to escape. Success attends their efforts. They
turn from God, and he turns from them, and thev
arrive at that condition in which God is forgotten,
so far as it is possible for a sinner to exclude all
thought of him.

URGENT APPEALS.

Their feelings are not humble, meek and for-
giving — ^but proud, passionate and revengeful.
Giving way to their pride, they despise and injure
others. Acting under the influence of passion,
they lose self restraint and become obstinate,
fierce and quarrelsome. Influenced by revenge,
they destroy the property, character or life of their
fellow men. The tendency of such a life is not
doubtful. Men of this stamp cannot walk with
God. His presence is painful to them. They
must separate from him; and they feel relieved
when no stray thought of him lodges in their minds.
Poor souls 1 what a choice they make. Darkness
is preferred to light, sorrow to joy, and dishonour
to glory. Alas I how many are there who acknow-
ledge no law, especially in their inner life, beyond
the inclinations of their depraved hearts. Reader,
do your feelings rule you, or do you rule them?
Are they your guide, or have you something more
elevated, steady, and pure by which to regulate your
life. The feelings are no safe guide to any on
earth ; for in the best of men a sense of duty
must prompt to action when the feelings are most
dormant ; but when they are regarded as the main
spring of conduct in all questions of morality, as
in the case of the unregenerate, the soul must urge
its way to a realm of thought in which God and
eternity are unheard of and forgotten. You can
tell how often the carnal mind has driven away the

WHO ARE ADDRESSED BY GOD.

spirit of prayer and praise, if you were ever blessed
with the desire *o seek after God. Your experi-
ence may remind you that sensual and grovelling
thoughts do not harmonize with thoughts of God —
they do not associate together — the indulgence of
the one is the exclusion of the other. And you
need not be told that where the demon of strife
reigns, the spirit of God does not dwell, and that
to open the door habitually to the devil, is the most
effectual means to separate your soul for ever from
God. O examine, then, your heart. Are its emo-
tions carnal, sensual, devilish ? Do such feelings
rule your conduct and reign within you ? If so,
you forget God ; you are a stranger to him ; you
tread the path of destruction ; and God calls loudly
to you to-day — ' Consider your ways lest I tear you
in pieces !'

They forget God who make the opinions of
men, and not the law of God, the rule of their con-
duct. In all ages a very large class prefer the
praise of men to the good will of God. This praise
they can only enjoy by adopting the opinions and
imitating the conduct common among men. The
profession of opposing principles, and their reduc-
tion to practice would deprive them of their favour
and exj)ose them to opprobrium. What are the
opinions most common among men? Are they
productive of genuine piety? Do they lead the
soul habitually to remember God ? — They are em-

URGENT APPEALS.

bodied in two words irreligion and foi^mality.
Many admit that religion is quite allowable to a
dying man, but deny all necessity for it in the
ordinary enjoyment of life. They affirm that a
man may discharge all the common obligations of
his existence here without disturbing himself about
religion. Religion is not condemned as a thing
unbecoming or injurious — it is simply ignored.
Others cannot go to this extreme. Their con-
science, or their training, or the society with which
they are surrounded impels them to observe, to
some extent, the forms of religion ; but beyond
the forms they do not go. Having no heart in-
terest in the matter, they simply submit to the
ceremony as an observance of respectable society to
which they do not feel prepared to offer any oppo-
sition. Such is the world in general. It knows
not God ; it acquiesces in the will and domination
of the Wicked One. He who would retain the
friendship of such, cannot be the servant of Christ,
for what concord has Christ with Satan ? If the
ordinary opinions of the world are to guide you,
you cannot retain a remembrance of your maker.
Your opinions will rule your ways ; and your ways
will either make you a friend or a stranger to God
— ^your meditation on him will be frequent and
pleasant, or looking to the conduct of worldly men
as your example, your thoughts of God will be
few and far between. Now, has not your follow-

WHO ARE ADDRESSED BY GOD.

ing of the world in the past led you away from
God? When you went with the vain and the
worldly to the bar-room or the ball-room, to the
card-table or the billiard-table, did you, could you
remember the Lord? No; thoughts of God and
eternity are intruders in those places, and an eflfort
is instantly made to give them a summary ejection.
Be this your rule — never to go where you cannot
take God with you — never to part company with
him. Then, when you die, you will change your
place, not your company, and the singularity you
were compelled to assume on earth, shall be re-
warded by a distinguished and glorious singularity
in eternity.

God is forgotten when men make a god of this
world. The heart will follow the object in which
it delights, and in its eagerness to reach it will
shut out of thought everything else deemed un-
worthy of regard. If men delighted in God, they
would follow hard after him and keep him con-
stantly in mind. But they have forsaken him,
they have all chosen ways of their own, they have
said to this and that object : Be thou our portion,
and receive the homage of our hearts, and the en-
ergies of our lives. One is bent on securing an
independence of the ordinary fluctuations of trade,
by laying up a sum sufficient to support him
through an ordinary term of life. To attain this,
every thought is given, every day spent, every

URGENT APPEALS.

effort expended. No thoughts of religion or of
eternity, of heaven or of hell can be suffered to
interfere with his cherished object. Possibly he
meets the voice of conscience by a promise of
giving due attention to these matters when he has
freed himself from the bustle and concern of his
present business. In the mean time, God himself
must stand by and wait the convenience of his poor
misguided creature. From early morn till night
every waking hour is absorbed in the cares of his
occupation — he finds no time for God, no time for
his soul, no time for eternity. Is not this for-
getting God? Is it not a deliberate abnegation of
his claims to any consideration? And should it
be a matter of surprise if the money thus gained
should never be enjoyed ; if death should step in
and say — Thou fool, this night thy soul is required
to appear before God, and what wilt thou do
with all the goods for which thou hast laboured ?
Another is born to wealth ; luxuries surround him
from earliest youth ; gaiety and frivolity mark his
associates, why should he not give way to mirth
and pleasure? The world is to him a theatre of
amusement, and his skill is exercised in constantly
devising new methods of enjoyment. Does this
man concern himself about God ? His every day
life answers the question. His portion is here, and
he is satisfied with it, so far as the soul can be
satisfied with earthly pleasure. As for God,

WHO ARE ADDHESSED BY GOD.

he desires not the knowledge of his character or
laws ; an entire absence of all thought of him is
considered a positive relief. lie drinks but thirsts
again. Another cup of pleasure is tried with simi-
lar results. And still the vain pursuit is followed.
Take his pleasures from him, and he exchiims with
Micah the Ephraimite — " Ve have taken away my
gods, and what have 1 else !" lie is without God
and without hope in the world.

In the eyes of many , fame has the most powerful at-
traction. The soldier, the scholar, and the politician
are stirred to the heart by it. Having chosen the
profession of arms, the aspirant to military rank and
fame studies with assiduity the history of warfare,
labours to master its mysteries, volunteers in the
most hazardous enteip rises, and grasps the wreath
of fame over the mangled remains of his foes at the
mouth of the cannon, or perishes in the attempt.
What inclination has he to remember God ? His
profession has a powerful tendency to drive away
religious thoughts, although the very opposite
might be expected from the fearful risks to which in
active warfare he is constantly exposed. He pants
after distinction, and whatever will not contribute
to this, or seems to stand in the way of its attain-
ment is studiously avoided. Thus God is for-
gotten.

The scholar has his eye on future fame. For
this he will barter time, strength, talent, health and

URGENT APPEALS.

■|

s m

even life itself. He will study till his constitution
is futally undermined — he will prosecute a favour-
ite branch of science day and night for a series of
years, without even giving as nnich attention to his
soul's eternal well-being as to enter the house of
God on a sabbath — he will pore over the mysteries
of nature with an intensity of interest understood
by none but men of deep research, but will turn
away from thoughts of God, as from a being de-
void of interest to him — and will prosecute his stud-
ies and explorations with a view to future fame until
his powers sink under the strain, and all this
whik persistently and deliberately forget God.
' The politician grasps at greatness and power.
For the possession of these he will neglect many
religious duties — leave the Bible a 'ed book
from one end of the month to the other, while the
newspaper is his daily food — neglect private prayer
for he finds little time and less heart for the duty
— absent himself from the sanctuary that he may
write his letters or despatches on sabbath — prac-
tice hollow professions and the most wily stratagems ,
and burden himself with a crushing load of cares,
anxieties, annoyances and disappointments ; and
through all this, ignore the existence of God, by
refusing to render to him the devout homage and
obedience which he claims . Although distracted by
the multitude of anxious thoughts, God finds no
place among them — he is cast out of mind, and
for the time totally forgotten.

WHAT GOD DEMANDS.

Tlius the poor, empty, vttnisliin*^ portion of
earth supplants in man's heart the God who <j;ave
him being — betrays its pursuer, and disapj)oints
its possessor; and by exchiding him who alone
could guide the soul through the stormy sea of
life, casts it away a hopeless wreck on the shore
of eternity.

Reader, is your pursuit of the world in any one
of its forms of business, honour, or pleasure causing
you to forget God ? O beware 1 If it exclude God
from your soul, what can it give you in exchange?
If you forget him what subject should you remem-
ber? Is there anything which you should keep
more steadily before your mind ! O nothing
whatever. Give him the ihrone of your heart,
and let your freshest, warmest, noblest thoughts
be daily occupied with him.

n. WHAT GOD DEMANDS.

Consideration. "Considerthis"saithGod. Con-
sider what? Read the foregoing words. "These
[sins] hast thou done, and I kept silence ; thou
thoughtest that I was altogether as thyself : but I
will reprove thee, and set them in order before thine
eyes. Now consider this." That is, reflect that
my silence while you were sinning is not to be un-
derstood as an approbation of your sins — ^that
although then silent, I will yet speak out, and
that in words of sharp reproof — ^and that having

URGENT APPEALS.

;. ^Vi

stopped you in your career of folly and iniquity, I
will set forth in order, in the light of my counte-
nance, every one of your sins. --

The absence of an immediate condemnation and
punishment of sin is no indication of God's appro-
bation of it. Although there is no outspoken voice
from heaven charging the transgressor as guilty of
violating a divine law, there is not absolute silence.
Conscience often speaks in whispers of accus'ition,
providence publishes its handbills of warning, and
revelation loudly proclaims its condemnation.
But men succeed in effacing, to some extent, the
law written in their hearts, so stiffling the voice of
conscience ; th^y misinterpret the writing of provi-
dence ; and defiantly disregard the inspired statutes
of heaven. Thus, because sentence against an evil
work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart
of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.
Because offences are not instantly followed by
judgments, sinners begin co imagine that God is
something like themselves — that he too may violate
engagements, and that he h very little troubled
when his creatures on earth disregard his com-
mands, and carry out their own purposes. How
vain such notions. How dishonouring to God.
God like them ! The most high, just, and holy
God, like weak, erring, polluted mortals ! He in-
different to sin, tampering with or delighting in it !
Let not men deceive themselves. Silence gives

WtLVT GOD DEMANDS.

no consent in this case. It is but temporary.
Infinite patience and mercy impose tliis silence in
kindness to you O sinner. A stream of mercy may
have run parallel with your course of sin in the
past. But do not imagine that it must always be
so. If you repent not, the stream of mercy will
be converted into a torrent of judgments ; and
these will converge upon your path until they have
seized you with resistless and consuming might.
God cannot approve of sin. His abhorrence of it
is unchangeable. His toleration of it is, therefore,
a mystery which we cannot fathom. This we do
know that it is within his control, that it can be
subdued by his power, and that it can be eradicated
at his pleasure. But for men to suppose that God
connives at sin because of indifference in respect to
it, and from this to draw encouragement to con-
tinue in sin is the very height of folly. It is to be
guilty of the great provocation of turning the grace
of God into licentiousness. Consider, then, that
present appearances are no index of what the future
shall be in this case, that a profound stillness often
precedes the blast of the hurricane, that a dead
calm is followed by the tumultuous heavings of a
tempest-tossed ocean, and that God being un-
changeable in his moral character, your construc-
tion of his present silence into an acquiescence in
your indulgence in sin, is to venture your very ex-

URGENT APPEALS.

,/■;,

istence on the thin crust which covers a slumbering
volcano.

The silence shall be l)ioken — God shall yet speak
out, and that in terms of reproof. The disobedi-
ent child must stand before his parent, the un-
faithful servant must come into the presence of his
injured master — ^the obstinate rebel shall be brought
before the throne of his offended sovereign, and it
shall then be God's turn to speak, and every mouth
shall be dumb before him. If conscience was
silenced when it spoke, if judgments were unheed-
ed when they came, there shall be no mistaking
the meaning of God's words when he speaks in
person, nor any power to evade their force. He
will reprove ; and his word shall be like a two-
edged sword piercing to the dividing asunder of
soul and spirit. What was forgotten shall be re-
called to memory, what was misunderstood shall
be corrected, and who shall stand his withering
rebuke? He shall charge the sinner with folly,
with hatred, with disobedience, with contempt of
mercies — ^what shall he answer ? He shall say —
Thou fool, what hast thou done ? Thou hast spent
thy time in vain, thy strength for nought I Thou
hast chosen evil rather than good, the friendship
of the devil and the world, rather than the favour
of God ! Thou hast bartered thy soul for gold,
and thy hope of heaven for earthly pleasure !
What canst thou say ? Thou hast hated me with-

"^T'-vi"'^- '":'>*"

WHAT GOD DEMANDS.

out a cause. My name, my sabbaths, my ordi-
nances, my laws, my people have all been hated
by you. My presence was so detested that thou
wouldst not approach me in prayer. Songs, both
vain and lewd, were sung when my praise was
abhorred. Novels were read with intense delight,
when my words of love and mercy, of salvation
and eternal glory, were despised and neglected.
My saints were scorned as fools, and hated as hypo-
(Tites. My sabbaths were polluted, and my
ordinances ridiculed. Thou didst laugh at the
mention of hell. The savor of godliness thou
couldst not endure ; and my very name thou didst
not utter except in profane conversation. What
canst thou say to this, O hateful enemy I

Thou hast disobeyed my voice. When I called
thou wouldst not answer — when I called after thee,
thou didst try to hide thyself from me ! When I
said: Thou shall have no Go«l before me — thou
didst refuse to honour mo < iid didst worship every
creature that would minisMT to thy ctirnal mind !
When I said: Thus will 1 be w( r>shipped — thou
didst reject my authority, and didst choose thine
own mode ! When I said : Reverence my holy
name — ^thou didst profane it continually with
polluted lips ! When I said : Remember my sab-
bath to keep it Loly — thou didst remember it n\y
to indulge in vain amusements or carn.-i' -ase !
When I said : Honour those in authority over thee

r5P

mmm

URGENT APPEALS.

(< ■

-i^f

)[■

— thou didst set thyself up as wiser than all who
could advise thee, and wouldst have thine own way
in defiance of restraint ! When I said : Preserve
thy life — thou didst foolishly waste it in the service
of sin ! When I said : Keep thyself pure — ^thou
didst give way to all manner of licentiousness !
When 1 said : Defraud not thy fellow-creature —
thou didst extort from thy neighbour what was not
justly thine ! When I said : Speak the tnith —
thou didst lie, and slander, and deceive as if thy
tongue was framed for mischief ! When I said :
Be content with what thou hast — thou hast greedily
coveted what was thy neighbour's, and didst mur-
mur against me, as if I had wronged thee ! O
thou disobedient sinner, thou daring rebel, what
canst thou say to all this? Thou hast despised
my mercies. I fed and clothed thee all thy life,
yet thou hast never acknowledged it. I restored
thee in sickness, and preserved thee in danger, but
thou didst soon forget it and went back to all
thine old sins ! I warned thee by conscience, by
my servants, and by my word, yet thou didst ob-
stinately refuse to repent and amend thy ways !
I sent my Son to seek and save the lost. He
offered thee redemption, held before thee the key
by which he could open thy prison, and offered to
take thee out, and thou despisedst his help : he
offered to wash away all thy sins in his own blood,
but thou wouldst not agree to it : he stretched his

WHAT GOD DEMANDS.

arm to shelter thee, but thou didst flee from under
it: — he entreated thee to follow him that thou
mightst escape damnation, but thou wouldst not
hearken, and didst press onward to hell even whilst
the gospel was sounding in thine ears I O foolish
hating, disobedient, contemptuous creature, my
mercies are exhausted, my* justice must be vindi-
cated ; thou art guilty ; thou art inexcusable ; how
canst thou escape the damnation of hell I This is
reproof indeed. May you, reader, never be expo-
sed to it.

But will the sinner attempt to plead not guilty
by saying : — Lord when did I act in this manner
towards thee ? Proof shall not be wanting. God
makes no charges which he cannot promptly sub-
stantiate. His omniscence can point out the time,
place and circumv^tances of every event ; and he will
set memory on the wing to call up the past, and
present it in all the vividness of present ob-
servation before the soul. A record has been kept
of all the moral acts of the soul from the first dawn
of responsibility till the hour of death. This re-
cord is in the hands of the gi'eat Judge. And he
has only to unfold its pages to find every sin of
thought, word or action, committed by the indi-
vidual now standing before him. He will point
out those sins in their order of time and of nature,
and set them clearly before the eyes of the sinner,
and then ask if these are not his deeds. Now, to

■■iW

URGENT APPEALS.

?!!'

>• I"

his utter amazement will appear what was long
buried in oblivion, what was done in secret when
no mortal eye was resting upon him, what was
done alone, and what was done in company with
others, what was planned and resolved upon but
never executed, what was done in ignorance, and
what was done with the full conviction that the
deed was wrong, what was done in the follies of
youth, and what was done in mature years, what
was spoken vainly, in exaggeration, detraction,
lying, slandering and false-swearing ; and, to all this,
those dense pages of thoughts, proud, mali-
cious, impure, cruel, blasphemous and diabolical,
utterly confounding in their number, aggravation
and guilt. O what can he say when all these sins
are held up before his eyes in the light of the great
throne of judgment, and when tht two witnesses,
conscience and memory, declare every charge to
be true ? Will not his brain reel in confusion, his
heart sink, his bones shake, his knees tremble, and
every joiat be loosed, and the one prevaling wish
be, that the clouds beneath him would part that he
might drop forever from the sight of the sin-aveng-
ing Judge ? O reader, is this terrible ordeal await-
ing you ? Will you not consider what is before
you, and escape, while there is time, from the
coming vengeance ?

WHAT GOD THREATENS,

III. WHAT GOD THREATENS.

That he will tear in pieces, when there can be
none to deliver. " Consider this, ye that forget
God lest I tear you in pieces and there be none to
deliver. " An event is here threatened which could
only result from fierce displeasure. The meaning
cannot be mistaken. God threatens that an un-
heeding, unreflecting continuance in sin, by for-
getting him, will awaken his sharp resentment,
and lead to terrible consequences. He speaks what
he thinks. He threatens what he intends. No
hollow, hypocritical alarms to frighten his enemies
proceed from his lips. Dread realities have ever
attested the sincerity of his warnings.

The destruction will be extreme and complete.
He will tear in pieces. Not the racking of a joint,
not the removal of a limb, but the entire dismem-
berment of the whole system. He who came as
a Lamb to be slain for the salvation of his people,
will yet appear as a Lion for the destruction of his
foes. "I will be," says he, "unto Ephraim as a
lion, and as a young lion to the house of Judah :
I, even I, will tear and go away; I will take
away and none shall rescue." Again charging
them with pride and forgetfulness he says : " Ac-
cording to their pasture, so were they filled, they
were filled and their heart was exalted ; therefore
have they forgotten me." And what is the result ?

tJRGENT APPEALS.

liJ

iri

s i

"Therefore I will be unto them as a lion, as a
leopard by the way will I observe them : I will
meet them as a bear that is bereaved of her whelps,
and will rend the caul of their heart, and there will
I devour them like a lion.**

Such destruction is complete. Nothing can be
added to it. The soul subjected to it is irretrieva-
bly lost. Who will put together what God has
rent asunder? Who will build up what he has
cnimbled into dust? He casts away with the de-
termination never to restore. He breaks in
pieces as with a rod of iron the earthen vessel fitted
for destruction. Is there any spirit so strong as
to resist his stroke ? Or can any still live after
Jehovah has expended his wrath upon him ? No ;
nothing will be left unbroken ; and nothing thus
broken will admit of restoration.

The destruction will be violent. God sajrs that
he will tear; that he will rend; that he will devour.
These expressions surely have some meaning. Must
we not interpret them as indicating that God will
handle his foes with great wrath and determined
energy ? The time for reasoning, expostulation,
and entreaty is now over ; mercy and forbearance
give place to justice ; and God suffers the full con-
sciousness of the sinner's guilt and peril to burst
upon him. Agony the most intense now seizes
him. His soul is torn with anguish. Conscience
stirs the fires of imagination, and the most terrific

WHAT OOD THREATENS.

pictures of interminable woe are held up before
him. Every feature la distorted, every faculty
distracted, and above the loudest wailings of des-
pair rise unceasing self-criminations. This heart-
rending is not the bare effect of the full realization
of guilt before God, but is also the result of the
positive curse of God, a spiritual infliction which
terribly lacerates the soul. Pronounced accursed,
he is driven from the presence of the Lord, and
violently thrust into hell. There the flames of
perdition surround him — ^they consume him, —
they everlastingly feed upon him . Thus our God,
who is a consuming fire, devours his enemies. O
is it not a fearful thing to fall unpardoned, unholy,
hell-deserving into the hands of the living God I

And need I add that this utter and violent de-
struction will be irresistible and inevitable. " /,"
saith God, " will tear in pieces, and there can be none
to deliver," We may be delivered from the hands of
a violent and blood-thirsty mortal, we may be res-
cued from the grasp of the infernal spirit himself,
but who shall interfere with the Almighty in his
work of justice? — who shall take the criminal out
of his hands, and declare that the judgment pro-
nounced against him shall not be carried out? It
is vain to imagine that ever such a thing will be
contemplated, much less attempted. Those who
behold the terrors of his wrath, know that resist-
ance is hopeless. When the chaff of the threshing-

URGENT Al PEALS.

■ I

I.-'

floor can resist the whirlwind, when the rush on
the sea-beach can withstand the incoming tide,
when the hand of an infant can stay the planets in
their course, then may a lost sinner of earth retard
for one moment the divine vengeance. Powerless
in himself, his outcries for help bring no relief.
The clouds which have supported him, while he
stood his trial before his Judge, and which bear
up the righteous as on eagles' wings, now cleave
asunder, and cease to uphold him for a moment
after his sentence is pronounced. The material
creation obeys its Creator. The waters of the Red
Sea may stand up as ramparts while the ransomed
of the Lord pass through, but let not the Egyptians
suppose that they will be equally serviceable to
them. As they stood apart to open up a high-
way to save the favoured of their maker, so did
they rush together to overwhelm in inevitable des-
truction those on whom he would be avenged.
The infernal hosts will afford neither help nor
sympathy. It is not in their nature to comfort or
pity, and it is not in their power to aid. On them,
as accursed, the same resistless stroke shall fall,
and notwithstanding their great superiority in might
they shall sink to the same depths of perdition as
their deluded victims of Adam's race. The heav-
enly hosts will proffer neither counsel nor support.
On the contrary, we are told that in obedience to
the orders of their king, they will be actively em-

WHAT GOD THREATENS.

ployed in the punishment of the wicked. Whither
will the condemned tuni ? The fires of vengeance
rage all around. One avenue is open — it is the
descent to hell. Down this burning passage the
lost soul is hurried, and the smoke of the pit hides
from our view the unutterable horrors which now
overwhelm him.

O reader, do you habitually forget God ? Is
there any pursuit, or occupation, or amusement
which shuts God out of your heart ! O consider
if the presence of God with your spirit is not worth
ten thousand times more than all the gains, than
all the charms, than all the joys of earth. Will
you part with God for ever ! You answer — No : I
would not ! What now are you doing ? If for-
gotten have you not parted with him ? Can he be
with you, and not known, and not thought of?
Never ! You have parted with him, and if you do
not speedily resume your intercourse, the separa-
tion will be eternal. Now or never I Instantly
bethink yourself of God your maker whose eye is
now resting upon you, and repent of the crime of
forgetting him — a crime which involves rebellion
and all its train of transgressions — and seek recon-
ciliation through the intercession of Christ. If
you will, intercourse may now be restored ; friend-
ship may be established ; and your soul bask for
ever in the sunshine of Jehovah's favor.

CHAPTER III.

i I

Sinners stenbing m slipperj grounb.

" Their foot shall slide in due time; for the day of their calamity is

at hand, and the things that shall come upon them

make haste." Deut. xxxii, 35v.

Appearances often deceive. That may be least
safe which ap'>'/' re most secure. Beyond appear*
ances elements may be at work, mustering their
forces and preparing for an overpowering eflbrt ;
and the hours which immediately precede the on**
set may be wholly devoid of any indication of the
approaching violence.

You walk by the ocean shore on an autumn
evening, and delight yourself by looking out on its
placid bosom unruffled by a solitary wave. From
anything now seen you might launch a boat and
make your way across its wide and lonely surface
to some distant land, without one feeling of alarm.
But beyond the range of vision, electric ourrenta
are rushing, the air is in motion, its powers are
combining, and before dawn that same glassy sur*
face will be broken by the fury of a tempest, its

ArrEAKANCEB MAY DECEIVE.

mighty waves will wildly da»h iigiiinst each other,
and the deep moanings of oceau's tortured bosom
will sound on every shore.

It is midnight. The miners' huts are scattered
along the silent valley. In them strangers fi*om
distant homes are slumbering, their weary liml>s
demanding i*est from the eager toil of many hours.
The bed of the river has yielded richly its golden
sands ; and the sleepers dream of absent friends,
of happy homes, and days of pleasure. But lo !
an unlooked for terror. Their temporary dwell-
ings are smitten, tilled and overwhelmed by rush-
ing waters. Distant mins have poured an inunda-
tion through their valley. They rise and shout
and struggle, but in vain ; the torrent cannot be
withstood ; they are borne along, some to sink in
turbid waters, others to escape a watery grave,
far from their dwelling despoiled of all they earned
and all they claimed.

It is morning. The sun is clothing the mountain
tops with its glory. An Alpine cottage is the scene
of sweet domestic happiness. The simple morning's
meal is taken ; the husband prepaixis to go forth to
his labour ; and the children are playing around the
hearth. Suddenly the family is startled by a
strange crashing sound of great vehemence. They
rush to the door. In an instant they are over-
whelmed. An avalanche has descended upon them
from the mountain. The cottage is swept away,

■\ .

Hi-

<•'

URGENT APPEALS.

and its inmates are smothered and buried, without
a minute's warning, beneath its ruins.

Let us b(>rrow from scripture. When David was
in the camp of the Philistines, a strong band of Am-
alek^i-es, wild marauders from the desert, attacked
and plundered the south of Judah, and coming to
Ziklag, the town of David, they vented their ani-
mosity in robbing and burning the place, and in
dragging into captivity the women and children
found in it. A dismal sight lay before David and
his men when they returned to their home. They
weep till nature is exhausted. This o^^er, they
think of recovering the lost ; and encouraged by
a divine promise, they set out in pursuit. The
inhumanity of the robbers leads to their destruction.
An Egyptian, abandoned because of his sickness,
sets David on the trail of the foe. They are over-
taken. But where are they ? — Three days journey
in the desert, in some favorite resort, out of the
usual routes, — and there, at dusk, they are seen
scattered in groups " eating and drinking and dan-
cing," no thought of danger disturbing their minds.
But for most of them it is their last feasting and
dancing on earth, for before another night has come,
the Hebrew chief has taken a terrible revenge ;
their dead bodies strew the desert on every side
in the very retreat in which they deemed them-
selves most secure.

It was a memorable night in old Babylon when

APPEARANCES MAY DECEIVE.

king Belshazzar assembled his thousand lords, his
wives and concubines, to a magnificent lianquet.
Every heart is intoxicated with pleasure. What
thought have they of danger ! It is true, an enemy
has long beseiged their gates ; but, to their eyes,
their city is as impregnable as ever. The king and
his courtiers give way to wine, and in their mad-
ness, Jehovah must be insulted, and the gods of
wood and iron applauded as his victors. But lo !
the decree of the Most High is passed. A hand, not
mortal, pens mysterious words upon the wall of
the palace in the sight of the king and his lords.
It is the lightning's flasli before the thunder's peal.
Awe is stfmiped on every face as the honoured
Daniel foretells their doom. But hark ! what rush-
ing in the streets, what shouts ! v/hat cries ! The
Persians ! the Persians ! The palace doors are
assaulted ; they are forced open ; in rush the
assailants ; terrible is the slaughter ; and among
the slain lies the pierced and bleeding body of the
royal Belshazzar. While he and his nobles were
carousing, Cyrus and his army entered the channel
of the river, found the large river gates leading
into the city open, and hurrying in spread them-
selves over the city and took possession. All
this happened in a night when the people, as well
as their leaders, gave way to reckless dissipation
in their dreams of perfect security.

Behold another child of earth consenting to re-

»f -^-^^"^

URGENT APPEALS.

ceive the homage of a god. No sooner has ho
placed his foot on that slippery height than he is
precipitated into the foulest pit of corruption.
Herod Agrippa addresses the assembled multitude
in the theatre of Ctesarea. His speech is magnil-
oquent, and his royal robes resplendent with jewels.
Struck by his appearance and speech, the people
shout — " It is the voice of a god and not of a man."
Who will dispute it? Whose rights does he in-
vade ? No opponent mutters even a dissent. But
an unseen God has heard the adulation, and mark-
ed the heart of the creature who received it. '^Im-
mediately " he is smitten " by the angel of the
Lord," and carried out of the theatre in terrible
agony, his conscience assuring him that the ven-
geance of God is upon him, and that death is at
hand. The most horrible disease of worms has
seized him ; and for five days they devour his in-
testines as if he had already been committed to the
grave : when at length, every day seeming to be
a year, his wretched spirit escapes from a body too
loathsome to be looked at, or to be approached.
How near was he to horrible corruption, when ap-
parently most exalted, most honoured, and most
secure I

There is a maturity in things. Events will
follow their course, and develop their fruits un-
til their force is expended. The tide will rise
or ebb till its moving power is exhausted, whether

APPEARANCES MAY DECEIVE.

»»

that be a foot below or above the expectation of
man. The fever will contend with the vitality of
the system till one or other is overmatched and
destroyed. Wars will continue till the fires of
animosity which keep them burning die out from
want of fuel. Beyond the point of maturity, all
is changed. A new power now reveals itself. It
may not have operated before, or its operation may
have been partially or wholly concealed, but now
it appears supreme, A tree falls under the blast
of wind ; but it had previously stood many such
blasts without any apparent effect. Why now has
it tallen ? The former blasts had done their work,
the last completed what they had begun. One
drop of water sinks the ship. Ten thousand had
previously entered with little apparent result. The
one drop has tunied the scale of resistance, and a
new power assumes control. When the superi-
ority of one power is established, every addition
which it receives accelerates in a rapid ratio the
entire demolition of the opposing force. The
water that rolls slowly over the gentle descent,
leaps on the brow of the precipice. The avalanche
wi ose first motions are imperceptible, rushes with
amazing velocity before it reaches the base of the
mountain.

Apply these illustrations to the condition of the
impenitent sinner. His danger is extreme, but he
perceives it not. He is standing on slippery

URGENT APPEALS.

ground, but a slight covering of dust conceals from
him the treacherous footing. Forces are combi-
ning to drive him from his place, but no idea of
such a combination has taken hold of him. A
time is fixed when the destructive power shall as-
sume control, resistance being overcome or re-
moved ; and once supreme, its developed force will
})ear with terrible velocity on the shattered powers
of the sinner, overwhelming him with utter des-
truction. Should not those who have examined
the foundation tell the sinner where he is standing ?
Should not those who study the spiritual barometer
forewarn him of the storm that is approaching ?
Will the unpardoned reader take it kindly, if I
should endeavour to do this friendly work for him ?
Will he heed as one personally and immediately
interested? Then, let us consider.

I. THE SLIPPERY GROUND ON WHICH
SINNERS ARE STANDING.

"Their foot shall slide." The idea is, that
sinners are standing on ground so slippery that
they cannot maintain their footing. The standing
ground of transgressors is one vast declivity,
reaching from the base of the hill of rectitude to
the brow of the hill of despair, overhanging the
pit of destruction. There is no footing so imcer-
tain as sin, — none more deceitful or more slippery.
But, as sins difler, this declivity is not all equally

SINNERS ON SLIPPERY GROUND.

slippery, nor is it all equally steep. The de-
scent is more gradual in tlie first stages from
the hill of rectitude ; but the nearer the approach
to the foot of the declivity, the steeper it becomes,
and the more slippery, so that in certain places it
is quite impossible to retrace a step once taken.
All over the declivity there are many foot paths,
all leading downwards, so glib that it is extremely
dangerous to place a foot upon them. Many who
have done so, have not been able to stop their
sliding till they fell into the pit. These paths are
temptation's slides. Not satisfied with the gradual
progress of the sinner towards hell, the devils, who
are incessantly occupied on this declivity, con-
stantly labour to persuade him to tread some one
of these smooth footpaths. Inducements are not
wanting. Over one path will be held some beau-
tiful flower, so attractive, so lovely, who would
not like to grasp it and make it his own ? And
yet to secure it, you must mingle with the gay,
the fashionable, and the foolish, and learn and de-
light in their ways. Over another is held some
ripe fruit, pleasant to the eyes, and good for food.
Why may it not be plucked and eaten ? To seize
it, you must defraud anothrr, an<l Ix^ classed
among the vile. Ah ! the taste is pleasant, but the
digestion is bitter. Over a third, is held the gold-
en purse. AVho does not d(?sire money ? who would
not accept it? How vast a crowd throng and

Tim

URGENT APPEALS.

r
1 i

(

press around in eagerness to grasp it ! A few suc-
ceed, but find it transformed into a burden of anx-
ieties and cares. The multitude struggle in vain ; it
is ever lifted beyond their reach ; while many in their
rapacity slip into the pits of dishonesty ; and others
scruple not to murder those who seem more fortu-
nate than themselves, in order to dispossess them
of the coveted money. The lust of the eyes, and
the lust of the flesh, and the love of money are the
chief decoys of the devil. As it is easier to go
down than up ; nay more, as it is perfectly easy to
descend a declivity so slippery as that on which
sinners are standing, the mass of mankind enticed
by the desires of the carnal heart readily slide into
the two great cavities of worldlinessand corruption.
From both of these there is a sloping descent into
pits still nearer the brink of the precipice. Those
in the cavity of Worldliness think and speak and
act only for this world. They are imbedded in it,
and wrapped up in it ; and seem unable even to
look beyond it. Their hopes are all here — and
their efforts are all put forth to make themselves a
permanent home here. Vain hopes, vain efforts !
They are irresistibly sliding down, and sliding out ;
and when they think they are about to enjoy some
repose and pleasure, death hurries them out of
their nest into an unseen eternity.

In the cavity of Corruption are seen those whose
sensibilities are blunted, whose purity is gone,

SINNERS ON SLIPPERY GROUND.

whose refinement, if it ever existed, is covered by
a dress two thin to conceal the rankling sensuality,
whose habits are brutalized, and whose induljren-
ces are as unsatisfying as they are corrupting.
They have stepped upon the slides of temptation,
and in grasping the forbidden fruit have sliddcn
into this horrible pit. You need not tell them that
they are in the mire ; they l^pow it ; and yet they
have a strange liking for it.'^ Not a few that draw
their feet out of the mire, and seem resolved to
climb back to the firm foundation of virtue, return
to their lusts, as the sow that is washed to her
wallowing in the mire. The loadstone of sensual-
ity, at the bottom of this pit, is woefully powerful.
But few surmount its influence ; and these owe their
escape to the divine arm which has laid hold on
them. Even the poor gratification of their evil
habits will not be continued to them, for they are
moving in mass, — fast though their feet may be in
the mire, — like a great landslide towards the centre
of their gravitation, where the indulgence of their
lusts will be impossible.

Not far from either of these cavities is the hollow
of Dishonesty. The slippery path of temptation
over which hangs the purse of gold leads directly
to it. It is not all equally deep, but consists of a
succession of slippery ledges or steps from the
slight descent of trivial extortion to the deep fall
of wholesale piracy. Alas I this staircase is crowd-

URGENT APPEALS.

fif*

( f

ed. Here are rows of pilferers and pickpockets,
rogues and thieves, smugglers and forgers, robbers
and pirates, all descending from ledge to ledge, as
if an irresistible momentum of evil urged them
forward.

Farther down the steep may be seen the pits of
Infidelity and Blasphemy, opening on the face of
the precipice. Into the one have slidden all those
who, professing to be most rational, reject all that
is supernatural as incapable of belief. Human
reason is their sole guide ; and as the deductions of
one mind difier widely from those of another, they
have no uniformity of opinions, but every possible
phase of belief is tolerated, from the denial of the
being of a God to the pantheistic phantasm of a
diffused deity animating all matter, and occupying
alike the animalcule and the archangel. Their
aim is to throw off all responsibility, to proclaim
man his own master, to deify human reason, and
to give the reins to licentiousness. The immoi-tality
of the soul is either denied, or shrouded in mystery.
Eternity is, therefore, not allowed to influence
their conduct. No judgment, no hell, no future
for them ! A screen of thickest opacity veils their
exit from earth. Truly, they must be blind who
slide into this pit of darkness in search of rest or
consolation.

Into the other have fallen those who have cast
off the fear of God, and take his holy name into

I !

SINNERS ON SLIPPERY GROUND.

jckets,
obbers
Ige, as
I them

pits of
face of
1 those
ill that
Eumaii
ions of
r, they
ossible
of the
n of a
iipying
Their
oclaim
11, and
ulality
^stery.
luence
future
Is their
id who
rest or

e cast
Le into

their lips in every subject of vain conversation.
Every vehement assertion is accompanied with an
oath ; and every subject of provocation is blasted
with curses. The laws of God are despised, the
ordinances of religion are ridiculed, and the day
of rest, the holy sabbath, the test of man's charac-
ter, habitually profaned. Here are many who
were in sabbath school classes, who were early
taught to read the Bible, who were led in early
youth to the house of God, and who were favoured
with the restraints of God-fearing parents ; but the
lusts of their wicked hearts, and the influence of
evil companions have led them to the paths of
temptation, and they now laugh at sin, and glory
in their shame. Hence this pit is filled more by
the prodigals, profligates, and outcasts of Christian
lands than by the degraded devotees of idols. No
man is more like a demon than a vile and daring
blasphemer. These blasphemers and their neigh-
bours, the infidels, may claim the unenviable dis-
tinction of being the first in advance towards hell,
of having made the nearest approach to the final de-
scent that will land them in perdition. Truly, if
the footing of every sinner is slippery, the found-
ation of these enemies of God is specially so. One
step more, and their hold of mercy, hope, and
salvation is cast off for ever.

Of the multitudes who, singly, or in groups, or
in great companies, are descending this slope.

URaENT APPEALS.

either by the same gradual descent, or by the steep
falls of its cavities and pits, can it be supposed that
none are alive to their perilous and alarming posi-
tion ? The most are profoundly indifferent because
deeply insensible ; but many are conscious of their
downward progress ; and some are at times terribly
agitated at the prospect of their approaching doom.
Where danger is perceived, there is naturally an
effort to escape from it. In providing against the
apprehended calamity, various devices arc resorted
to. Refuges of lies are erected in which they deem
themselves safe from all hostile influences. Three
of the most frequented of these refuges are named
respectively : — If-righteousness, Presumption,
and Defiance.

The inmates of Self-righteousness believe that
none of their class ever fell into the pit — ^that any
slips in the past have been more than made up by
their good deeds — ^that God is indebted to them
for their strict observance of his law — and that by
no combination of events could any of them be
debarred from the kingdom of heaven.

In Presumption every notion that dissipates
alarm, no matter on what foundation it rests, is
applauded. One avows that there is no such thing
as sin, that his past falls were simply imprudent
acts, the full consequences of which he has already
suffered. To which many respond — * That's so.'
A second asserts that God will never destroy

-i I

SINNERS ON SLIPPERY GROUND.

any creature which ho has made, that in fact there
is no hell, that if there was one kindled by some
demon, the mercy of God would extinguish it as
by an ocean of water. This brave opinion is loudly
commended. 'I presume,' says a third, *that we
have been long enough scared by hobgoblins, let
us shake off all fears for the future, God has made
man to be happy, let us eat and drink and be merry,
and now men, three cheers for our glorious deliv-
erance from false fears, and the secure retreat we
have reached .' With this, the walls of Presumption
shook with the shouts of self-deluded mortals.

Defiance showed a motley crowd of desperadoes.
The fear of God and man had long been cast off.
Recklessness was stamped on every brow. In talk,
who so bold as they ? In answer to the threatenings
of God, they exclaim : ' Let li im make haste and
come, that we may see what he can do !' They
have made a covenant with death, and an agreement
with hell, and who else need they fear? Here,
all the care-for-nothings, professing great stoutness
of heart, congregate. With seared conscience they
shut their ears against the voice of warning, and
afBrm their safety to be all that they desire. They
wish no one to trouble them ; they are prepared
for all-comers, and can bid defiance to every foe.
But, do they know where they are ? Do they know
what they are? Where are these refuges? On
what foundation do they rest ? Of what materials

URGENT APPEALS.

|i 'I

{

are they made ? Who is to defend them when the
hour of assault shall come ? Are they unassailable ?
Can they neither be overturned nor undermined ?
Did ever absurdity appear more manifest ? Will
a man go less speedily to destruction because he
shuts his eyes on the way ? Every thing based on
sin is sliding to destruction. The vain shelter in
which the sinner hides moves with no less rapidity
because he imagines it is stationery. He and all
he clings to, are pressed forward to destruction
by a momentum which no arm but that of the
Almighty can arrest even for a moment. Unpar-
doned sinner I no moment art thou stationery — no
moment art thou safe — onward and downward art
thou moving. Thou canst not stand where thou art ;
thy feet are sliding ; every step is attended with
danger; and the whole standing ground of the
unconverted is a vast declivity of ice. Look
around ; — all are staggering ; many trembling ;
many falling. Look back ; — far in the distance is
the heaven from which thou hast slidden. Look
forward ; — near in the foreground is the fearful pit
into which thou art descending. What is to be
done ? — Fall down upon thy knees and cry for help.
What I dost thou think that thou canst stand ?
Canst thou retmce thy steps unaided ? Canst thou
discover some safe spot on all this slope ? Beware I
The snow may cover the ice, but it is no less
dangerous ; the moss may cover the rock, but it is

1 '

STANDING TIME LIMITED.

no less slippery. The hollow places have all their
sliding and slippery ontlets. To seek shelter there,
is more speedy destruction. Must I argue the case
with you? Then let me show,

II. THAT THERE IS A TIME BEYOND WHICH
SINNERS CANNOT RETAIN THEIR STANDING.

Xo one can truly affirm that the foundation of
the sinner is either firm or tenable. If then it is
])oth unsteady and untenable, the sinner may be
overthrown or cast down without the greatest
difficulty. Thus feebly supported, he cannot
maintain his position against a superior force. He
may lose his footing in one of three w.ays, either
by a power from before, dragging him down ; by
the failure of internal strength to resist the down-
ward tendency ; or by violence from behind. But
a combination of these influences operating toge-
ther must insure an early and rapid overthrow and
destruction. Such is, or will be, the condition of
every impenitent sinner. At present two of
these influences are at work day and night. Sin
is weakening, every hour, his moral and physical
strength. It is a worm which, getting at the root,
stops the flow of the vital fluid, and kills the soul.
It is a rot which decays the powers of the soul from
within. It is a rust which corrodes it from without.
What soul unaided from the fountain of life can
withstand the three-fold killing process from root,

^ '

^1,;

URGENT APPEALS.

heaii;, and surface. The external appearance is not
the only, nor is it by any means, the safest index
of the soul's condition. Do we not know that a
person in the last stages of consumption sometimes
assumes the flush and glow of one in the enjoyment
of good health ? In the East Indies the white ants
bore into the timber of a house, and eat out the
heart, leaving the surface of the wood almost
untouched. In outward appearance the fr.ime may
seem to have undergone but little decay, but the
day of storm will reveal broken timbers reduced
to a shell bv the hidden devourer. But sin, the
triple consumer, scars the outside, eats out the
heart, and gnaws away the roots. Can this proceed
for any length of time, and strength remain unim-
paired? — Impossible. For all purposes of good,
for all enjoyment of happiness ,'^ the soul becomes
an imbecile. It is a moral wreck.

While sin is corroding the pillars of the soul,
Satan, the other power, is busily at work. He
has no wish to see the sinner maintain his footing
in a place of mercy. Every hour's delay is to him
a risk of losing the soul which he would carry off
as his prey. Every step forward is a gain to him,
as the declivity becomes steeper the farther the soul
advances. The power of temptation and the pros-
pect of success increase as the sinner is allured
onwar<i^ Hence no effort is spared to entice him
on and on, from one sin to anotherj and from oao

STANDING TIME LIMITED.

indulgence to another, and from one scene of ninth
to another, all so many stages of descent to the
pit. And not satisHed with this progress, the
adversary and deceiver tries to accelerate it by
mining. The slope is not so steep as he would
wish, and he undermines the standing-ground of
the wretched mortal who is his dupe. This is done
])y labouring to remove every consideration from
the mind which woidd induce it to resist the
temi)tation, and by pressing into it every imagina-
tion which can increase the power of the temptation.
Then, on a pathway amply lubricated by the slime
of the old serpent, the unwary mortal is drawn
forward, and tinds, as he proceeds, the foundation
sinking beneath him. To return is impossible, his
descent has been doubly secured. Progress at'Uiv
this sort would quickly bring the soid to perdition.
But God, in mercy, restrains the violence of tlie
enemy, and gives the sinner time to reflect, time
to repent, and time to cry for proffered helj). If
this patience is undervalued, and the respite neg-
lected ; if sin is still cherished and temptation
encouraged, forbearancce will close, and vengeance
begin.

Then^ the third power comes into operation.
The sinner weakened within by the prevalence of
sin and the consciousness of guilt, and powerfully
seized in front by the angel of darkness, is at the
same time smitten from behind by the blast of

'f.

; .1.

V !';

URGENT APPEALS.

divine vengetiiicc. What must become of him?
C.^un he still maintain his footing? — Impossible.
The stroke of the Almighty would hurl him into
the ab} ss were he entrenched behind the everlasting
mountains. What can he do on the slippery preci-
pice of sin ? Left to himself he would slide into
hell ; how certain and speedy his doom whci\ he
is, at one and the same time, dragged by the devil
and driven by the Almighty. Poor, wretched sin-
ner, what an object of pity art thou ! Thy strength
io gone, thou hast no power to resist, and there is
no hand to help. Thine own heart condemns thee,
all creiition is against thee, and God himself de-
stroys thee ! O impenitent reader this shall soon be
thy fate if mercy is not early sought. The day,
the hour, tlie moment is fixed when mercy shall
cease to restrain justice if thou repent not. When
is that moment ? None on earth can tell. Two
powers, sin and the devil, now labour to bring thee
down to hell, will you wait till the third shall finish
what they have begun. O now is the djiy of salva-
tion I Not yet smitten, not yet driven, seize the
arm of mercy stretched to save, and you will be
draAvn up to hejiven. Do not, I Ix'seechyou, hesi-
tate for one moment. Mercy is now offered to
you — yes to you personally, most willingly, most
cheerfully — will you, can you despise it, or decline
it? I do not wish to see you lost forever. T do
not wish to see you drop into the flames that shall

THE CALAMITY HASTENED.

•33

never be quenched. O then let me press you still
more by calling you to consider,

III. WHAT ARE HASTENING THE FALL, THE
CALAMITY, OF THE SINNER.

The doom threatened against the ungodly is not
to be delayed for ages, or centuries, or even many
years; but shaP ' r hi a few years at farthest,
and, it may be, ' ,•. licw months or even days.
The space to l)e passed over is short; and the
agencies to hasten its coming arc many. "The
day of their calamity is at hand, and the things
that shall come upon them make haste." Let me
enumerate some of the things which facilitate or
accelerate the progress of the wrath to come upon
the sinner.

First, God's restndnts are being cast oft' one by
one. These held back the sinner from sliding as
fast as he otherwise would into perdition. But
now some warning voice that used to speak is
silent. Some friend or neighbour, whose piety
was a check on his ungodliness, is taken away.
The preaching that once alarmed the soul and sent
the man to his knees, no more disturbs him for he
takes ctu'e to avoid it, having no more relish for it.
Perhaps he has gone oft* to a foreign land where the
sight of a relative will not prevent him from follow-
ing his evil habits. He has now no fear of meeting
one whose face would put him to shame. Above

■H

URGENT APPEALS.

i\T

(

! *'

! (

t I

all, God allows conscience to slumber. He long
strove against the admonitions of this once faithful
watch ; and now his wishes are gratified ; the
watch is asleep, and he may go on undisturl)ed to
the pit.

Second, God's forbearance is running out.
Like the sand in the minute glass it is every mo-
ment running through. While it lasts judgment
has not come; but while it wastes, wrath hastens.
Who can tell when the last <>:rain falls throu£?h.
God himself holds the glass, and the moment it is
turned, vengeance goes t'ovth. Could this for-
bearance be stayed up ; could its vohnne never be
diminished, punishment had never come. But as
it hourly falls away, it hourly l)rings near the
threatened woes. The same power that propels
the flight of forl)earance, propels the approach uf
wrath. They are bound together. As the one
moves, the other moves. If they stop, they stop
together. If they haste , they haste together, and
with ecpial progress. The rapid waste of forbear-
ance, is the rapid haste of judgment.

Third, the devil is increasing his instruments.
The nearer the soul descends to the pit, the more
agencies can the devil bring to bear upon him.
His evil companioiis are increased in number and
in power to do mischief. The spirits of darkness
haunt his footsteps more closely, and urge him
onward more easily. He is more out of the sights

THE CALAMITY HASTENED.

long

and aoTincls of heavenly things ; and all duy long
he is becoming habituated to the most alyect ser-
vitude to sin. Every agent that can prevent seri-
ous reflection is called into operation. Around
him congregate all that can laugh at death, judg-
ment, and eternity ; and can dance, and make
merry, and sing licentious songs, while the days
of pleasure last. Many who could not be employ-
ed, without creating alarm, at the outset of the
sinner's downward course, can now render much
service with satisfaction. Alas ! how sad to think
that the fallen should take pleasure in drawing
others down to their own miseries.

Fourth, death is digging a channel for the flood
of wrath to reach him. The full displeasure of the
Almighty is reserved for the world of spirits.
Whatever hastens the sinner to that world, hastens
tne approach of wrath. The curse opens the door
for death ; and although he may long look the sin-
ner in the face, without laying hold of him, ho will
not always keep that distance ; but coming to
closer quarters, he will grasp him, and demand his
appearance before his judge. Death is not idle
while he stands at a distance. He is poisoning
the atmosphere which the mortal is breatliing, and
sowing the seeds of disease. The way is pre-
pared when the hour to seize has come. That
preparation opens a passage for the pent up ven-
geance of Jehovah. Every hour the work goes

•; *

. ,1

URGENT APPEALS.

on. The loose and light materii^ on which the
sinner rests his hopes, can offer no firm resistance
to the rush of these mighty waters. They have
been accumulating for years ; but death was the
appointed agent to open the floodgates, and until
that was done, these stormy waters could only
surge against their barrier. Could the sinner only
see where he now stands ; could he see the stayed
waters swelling up ; could he see death hard at
work digging a wide and deep trench from their
barrier down to his foundations, what must be his
emotions as that work hastens to completion?
What must he feel as the last spadeful of earth is
thrown up, and the signal is made that all is now
ready for the rush of wrath ?

Fifth, a storm is gathering above with alarming
rapidity. It seems prepared to burst upon the
head of the sinner. Darker and darker it grows ;
\Ui\v and again t|io flash is seen, and the distant
peal is hiattl. jj: is approaching. The peals are
joiMlev I till hIiHI llbt". Tlfjij' Hliakc the earth. Gusts
df fi^i jUb ^ft. ^Illfete |s a rush. A hurricane
Is at naiq. Wliat s)|f)|j pk done? It is almost as
dark as night. Tne soiij of (;)ie sinner quails. He
|)egins t<> fc('| l||tit || )s till prepared for him. O
wli liner shall he iloe ? He sees before him the dread-
ed descent. It seeins to grow steeper. He is borne
onward to its verge . He shakes . Stronger are the
blasts — the lightning gleanis wildly, and the roar

THE CALAMITY IIASTENKl).

of the thunder is now become most temfying.
The despairing mortal stands shuddering on the
brink of everlasting woe.

Sixth and histly, hell is prepared to receive him.
It has now a terribly attractive power. Like a
tierce lire, it draws to itself and devours all that
comes within a certain range. Like the whirlpool,
it has brought its prey to the vortex — there is no
more whirling as if to see what danger was in store
for the captive — but down to its infernal depths
it must now plunge. O the heart-rending reality
— there is no escape ! God has Avithdrawn every
restraint ! — the last sand of his forbearance is
dropping through ! — the devils are assembled for
their rush at their prey ! — death is opening the
floodgates for the torrent of vengeance ! — the storm
has come down dark as night upon him, and the
hurricane blast is coming ! — and now on the brink
of the precipice and in full view of the infernal
lake, the resistless suction of its unquenchable
flames is felt in all its force ! — the forces cooperate
— his feet suddenly slide, and with a shriek never
to be forgotten by those who hear it, be falls head-
long, and disappears far down amid the raging
fires of the pit of despair !

Reader, are you to see and hear and feel all this ?
You exclaim — No ! — oh ! no ! But why ? The
wicked shall be turned into hell, and every sinner
that forgets God. Are you one of the wicked? —

ill'

!-■

URGENT APPEALS.

do you forget God. You can only escape by timely
repentance, by genuine conversion to God. Will
you now turn to God ? Will you now abhor your
sins ? Christ has come to save the lost. He can
hear, and he can help. His arm is not shortened ;
nor is his ear dull of hearing. Then lift up your
prayer to him ; just as you are ; with all your sins
and shame upon you. If alone , fall down upon your
knees, and stretch your hands to heaven for help.
You may be saved — ^you may be saved now, just
as you are, just where you are. Do not slide one
step farther down. You have gone too far. Stop
now ; and you may yet enjoy the full glories of
paradise. Why may you not? Others like you
have been saved. Hell has enough, more than
enough, without you. Add not to the groans and
tears and wailings of that dismal region ; but swell
the song of everlasting jubilation that shall roll
over the plains of heaven. Look up for once ;
look to Jesus, look earnestly, look imploringly,
and cast yourself without reserve on his infinite
mercy ! O may God bless for your salvation what
you have read.

CHAPTER IV.

fttkment oberfalung i\t Sinner.

"Be sure your sin will find you out." Num. xxxil. 23v.

The context explains the circumstances in which
these words were spoken. The tribes of Israel,
after a long course of training in the wilderness,
have reached the borders of Canaan. The tower-
ing Amorite has found himself no match for the
furious soldier of the desert, and the wily Midian-
ite has fallen before his avenging sword. The
conquered territory is well adapted for flocks and
herds. Two of the tribes, Reuben and Gad, rich
in cattle, set their covetous eyes on these verdant
fields, and desire to make this region their home.
They lay their request before Moses, their renown-
ed and now veteran leader. He replies in a strain
of indignant remonstrance, construing their con-
duct as rebellion against Jehovah, their great in-
visible captain, and conceiving it to be the offspring
of selfishness, cowardice, and unbelief. They ad-
p

i .1

«5

URGENT APPEALS.

mit their anxiety to possess the teiTitory, but
disclaim all thought of rebellion, or the least taint
of cowardice, and declare themselves ready to jro
armed across the Jordan, along with their brethren,
and share all the perils of war, until the last foot
of the promised land has been won. This offer of
co-operation in the coming contests is accepted ;
and, on its express condition, their request is
granted. Moses cannot live to see their promise
fulfilled ; and, knowing well the character of the
race, he warns them, in few but emphatic terms,
that any violation of their engagement would be a
sin against Jehovah, and such a sin, as should
never go unpunished. " But if ye will not do so,
behold ye have sinned against the Lord ; and be
sure your sin will find you out"

This warning embodies a principle of universal
application. Sin will ever pursue, hunt out, over-
take and seize upon the sinner, and that with
violence proportioned to his crime. In the ears
of every sinner these divine words ring an alarm ;
but there are certain transgressors to whom they
speak in trumpet-tones . Among these the selfish and
slothful professor of religion, and the secret, de-
ceitful, and defiant transgressor hold the most
prominent places. The slothful and selfish pro-
fessor heeds not the command of the captain-gene-
ral, the Lord of Hosts, — * Go ye into all the world
and preach the gospel to every creature.' Vast

y, hut
8t taint
y to "TO
ethren,
ist foot
offer of
jeptetl ;
uest is
jromise
of the
terms,
1(1 be a
slioukl
. do so,
and be

iversal
, over-
it with
le ears
alarm ;
m they
shand
et, de-
most
ti pro-
-gene-
world
Vast

THE WARNING.

territories promised to Immaniiel still li«^ under the
sway of the prince of darkness, but he cares not.
The heathen may be at his door, or a thousand
miles away, but his narrow and ignoble spirit never
prompts the enquiry, what must I do to save them ?
He is in possession of green fields and still waters ;
and has no heart to buckle on his armor and go
forth as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and display
in the face of danger and death the courage, pa-
tience, and endurance necessary to rescue captive
souls from the grasp of Satan. Millions may be
perishing for the bread of life, but he, mean soul,
can spare nothing from his personal and family
comforts to send them that which will cause them
to hunger no more, neither thirst any more. The
collector for the cause of Christ, at home or abroad,
is an unwelcome visitor ; not knowing that it is a
distinguished honor from God to be asked to aid,
in any measure, his glorious cause. It matters not
that the Bible has said that God loves a cheerful
giver, he never felt and cannot value the love of
God. His profession is a lie ; he is neither a ser-
vant, nor a soldier, of Jesus Christ. Header, art
thou a slothful and selfish professor? Be sure
your sin will find you out. Even here, it will
wither your soul, and blast it with perpetual lean-
ness. You think by withholding to be rich, but
every shilling withheld from God, when claimed
by him, is money put into a bag with holes. It is

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URGENT APPEALS.

lost beyond recovery. Your sin shall follow you
to the judgment seat, where you shall be asked —
What have you done to conquer the world for
Christ ? — ^What have you done to rescue the perish-
ing from ruin ? — What have you given to send re-
lief to the destitute ? Unable to answer, you shall
have your pare with "the fearful and the unbe-
lieving."

The seci^et transgressor says within himself —
* No eye seeth me ; I may carry out my plans ; 1
may do as I wish, it shall never be known :* for-
getting or trying to forget that there is one whose
eyes are on all the ways of the children of men,
and to whom the gloom of midnight is as the noon-
day. The deceiver wears false appearances,
speaks with lying lips, conceals his real pui'poses
by vain pretensions, and flatters himself that as
the truth can never be attained, no disclosure cau
take place. The daring, defiant sinner looks upon
might as right, takes by violence what is not his,
oppresses the poor, condemns the innocent, and
persecutes the just ; and hushes every whisper of
conscience by saying — who dare interfere with me ?
none can call me to an account — have I not the
power ? — may I not do as I please ?

And is it so that these secret, deceitful and
daring sinners shall escape detection and punish-
ment? Nay verily; every sin committed shall
spring upon their track with the keenness and

THE SINNER FLEEING.

low you
asked —
'^orld for
e perish-
send re-
yoii shall
le unbe-

limself —
plans; 1
wn :' for-
ae whose

of men,
he noon-
;arances,
piu-poses
f that as
»sure can
3ks upon

not his,
eut, and
liisper of
tvith me ?

not the

tful and
punish-
ed shall
less and

swiftness of the bloodhound ; and following them
through every winding of their crooked course,
and into every hiding place, come up with them
at last, in time or eternit}^ startling them by its
appearance, and terrifying them by its irresistible
demands for immediate satisfaction.

Would you see this statement verified ? Turn
and behold,

I. THE SINNEK FLEEING.

See ! he has wounded himself. A sharp, pierc-
ing instrument has touched a deeply sensitive part,
and he is manifestly ill at ease. Why, what has
he done? He has denied compassion to the
wretched ; he has refused aid to the destitute ; he
has driven the poor from his door ; he has belied
his neighbour; he has unjustly retained what is
not his ; he has done a corrupt thing which cannot
be wiped out ; his hands arc stained with blood ;
or, he has bound himself over to damnation by
doing that which, by a horrible oath, he swore he
would not do. Wonder not at his restlessness.
He cannot be still. If he sit or stand, go out or
come in, anguish of spirit cleaves to him. Does
he pause for a moment ? Fix your eye upon him.
His look is excited. His head instinctively hangs
forward, his brow is clouded, and the blush suf-
fuses his cheek. Shame clothes him as with a

t ( i

i }

URGENT APPEALS.

'1 \

garment.

Freedom is gone. A restraint is upon
him. He cannot look you calmly in the face.
He shuns your scrutinizing gaze. He is perplexed
as if the world was looking on him. A feeling
more powerful succeeds, and takes full possession
of him. Terror seizes him. The smouldering
fires of conscience have broken out, and a voice
is heard breathing in deep, authoritative, and angry
tones words of wrath and danger. It is the voice
of God. He cannot answer it. An attempt to
hush it, is met by the terrifying response — Woe,
woe unto thee for thou hast sinned ! Hear he must,
and yet be cannot. He starts to escape, but
whither, O whither shall he go?

He must flee from man. He dreads the look,
the scorn, the violence, the legal vengeance of man.
Does the rumseller like to meet the prostrate
form of the man whom his accursed avaiice has
beggared and besotted? Does the thief like
to pass before the windo\^s of the house into
which, the previous night, he entered as a burg-
lar ? Does the rogue like to meet the man whom
his dishonesty has impoverished and ruined?
Can the manslayer desire to meet the family of the
man whom his brutal violence laid low in death ?
Or can the seducer wish to confront the father or
husband, whose home he has blasted with infiimy ?
No — no ! The look of no mortal is invited ; but
the face of the injured and the wronged is shunned

THE SINNER FLEEING.

as the arrow of death. The sinner feels that his
looks may betray him. You may often read the
mind of a man by his looks. The anxious and the
frivolous, the sorrowful and the joyful, reveal their
condition in their face. Many arrested, on the
gi'ound of their troubled guilty look, have confess-
ed their crime, and received their punishment.
If the < >ed expor'^-- him to legal prosecution, the
sinner to avoid detection, and escape arrest, will
flee from the scene of his iniquity, and hide him-
self from the oflicer of justice. The lonely deep,
or the solitary forest, will be his resort ; and the
farther off, the better. He turns from every
familiar face, and hurries away to strange lands
and strange faces. Thus, many leave their country
for their country's good. Their flight is a testi-
mony to the evil of sin, to the power of conscience,
and to the just and holy government of God. But
are they now at rest ? Far from it. It is one thing
to change a country, or climate, and quite another
thing to change the heart or disposition. They
have fled from man, who might seize and punish
them, but God is still before them as the avenger
of sin.

They must flee from God, Hard and mournful
task ! In this attempt they are joined by a great
multitude of sinners who, without changing their
abode, feel constrained to hide their guilty souls
from the gaze of their holy Creator. Like their

■w

(

llu

URGENT APPEALS.

fallen progenitor Adam, they will go behind any
screen that will conceal the face of God ; and like
his ungodly son, Cain, they will count it a relief to
get out from the presence of the Lord. But how
shall they accomplish it ? Not only, if tliey ascend
to heaven is he there, but if they descend to hell,
he is there. And could they make the morning
light their wings, and fly to the utmost confines of
space, they would find him there before them.
Vain attempt ! But if they cannot escape from
the presence of the great Unseen, may they not,
in some measure, rid themselves of that which re-
minds them of that presence ? They may — to their
own ruin. They may close their ears to the voice
of God, as he speaks in the Bible, by excluding
that book from their homes, or by leaving it un-
read, while the newspaper, the novel, or the
review, receives daily attention. They may avoid
the place where mortals meet to confess their sins,
and supplicate the grace of the Almighty; and
make the card-table or the bar-room their resort.
And they may refuse to go to the house of the
Lord, on the holy sabbath, to participate iu the
public worship of God, preferring to enjoy their
ease at home, or their pleasures abroad. What
then? Are they now at ease? By no means.
They have not yet inhaled the first breath of peace.
They ai*e on the wrong road. They are approach-
ing a region where storms forever rage j and the

^ippa^i^^LiiJ!,. ..',■<;■">.' i)iu« N,,i «w Muii^ni" iii'v iw

THE SINNER FLEEING.

hell,

gusty, moaning winds now meeting them, betoken
a coming tempest. They are brought to a stand ;
and now each, looking within, perceives the evil
spirit of a troubled conscience flashing deflance in
his face, and charging him with guilt in fiercest
tones. What is he to do?

lie must flee from himself. Al)surd ! Yes ; he
must attempt the apparent imjiossibility of fleeing
from himself, for he c5»niiot look the inner man in
the face. What can he (V? To change his place
is useless; to expel the oe is beyond his power.
Alas, for man ! lie has power to plunge the barb-
ed arrow into his own bosom, but no power to
extract it. This he will do. He will rush into
business, and drown all thoughts of judgment and
eternity, amidst the cares and perplexities with
which he surrounds himself. Cain sets himself to
build a city, after he has escaped from the presence
of the Lord. Girard, the infidel millionaire of
Philadelphia, rises each morning with the sole pur-
pose, as he tells us, of working so hard all day
that he may sleep well at night. These men want
no time for reflection, The present world is every
thing to them. Or, he will plunge into the vortex
of pleasure, and float round on its frothy billows
as long as he can keep his head above water.
This is the end of many. They stiffle an accusing
conscience by the daily bustle of business, or by a
constant routine of frivolous amusements. Ah

\ i

!/ i

URGENT APPEALS.

i *

me I The sinner flees, but escapes not ; for his
flight is in a circle. He flees from an impending
woe, but it is to be crushed by a still heavier one.
He flees from the pain of a self inflicted wound ,
but it is to be pierced by the arrows of a thousand
foes. For see,

II. JUSTICE PURSUING.

In every well governed country there are officers
of justice whose duty it is to arrest those who have
broken the laws. These men are chosen for their
activity and strength, their expertness and courage,
and they are expected to allow no criminal, by his
cunning or strength, to escape from their grasp.
When the supposed criminal has fled, they may
pursue him by steam, and intercept him by elec-
tricity. But with all the modern agencies of justice
some of the vilest offenders, adepts in crime, elude
their pursuers, and remain at large. Human
justice, with all its swiftness and sagacity, fails in
tracing their footprints, and pursuing them to their
hiding places. But the sinner never outstrips di-
vine justice. He may sweep over the ocean before
the blast of the tempest, but divine justice arrives
in port before him — he may dash over a continent
in express trains, but as he steps out, at the last
terminus, divine justice meets him in the face —
he may expatriate himself, and make some lonely

JUSTICE PURSUING.

isle of the sea his home, like the mutineers of the
Bounty, but as he walks that solitary beach, divine
justice keeps step with him — he may make the
darkest cavern within his reach his hiding place,
but as he sits there in gloomy silence, divhie
justice takes a seat beside him — he may enter the
brilliant circle of fashion, determined to expel
every unpleasant thought of his vile deeds, but as
he takes his place upon the floor to lead the dance,
divine justice steps up, and whispers in his ear,
' Is it for you to make mirth, when the gates of
hell are opening to receive you? — or he may
mount upon a throne, but divine justice, with
authoritative step, follows him thither, and point-
ing the finger directly at him says, * Thou art the
man for whom I come.' When the sinner, in his
swiftness, can surpass the lightning's speed, and
when, by his dexterity, he can elude the eye of
omniscience, then may he outstrip divine justice —
not till then.

It often happens that the detectives sent in pur-
suit of a fugitive from justice, fail in recognizing
him, after they have arrived at the place, where
he is believed to have made a stand. They may
pass and repass him in the street, he recognizing
them, but they not recognizing him. He has
changed his name — altered his dress, assuming
what is as unlike as possible what he usually wore
— removed or assumed a beard — dyed his hair — it

"1 i

>( <
it )L

100

URGENT APPEALS.

I '

may he, feigns lameness andcamesa crutch — and
claims a profession with which he had no known
connection. Thus he escapes apprehension. Is
it so with divine justice ? No ; divine justice can
never be outwitted. Caring nothing for names or
titles, looking through all external appearances of
colour, or dress or attitude, as the most flimsy
cobweb, and disregarding every assumed profess-
ion, the highest as well as the lowest, the preacher
of the gospel alike with the sweeper of the street,
it goes up to the man, and says, ' I have a message
from God to thee." Does the sinner affect surprise
and attempt to deny the charge? A picture is
held up before his face every line of which he can
understand. The place, the time, the person or
persons with whom, the circumstances in which
the deed was committed are explicitly stated, and
the crime rises unveiled before the perpetrator.
Can he, dare he reply — 'I was not there, I did it
not?' Justice fixes its eagle eye upon him, and
answers — ' Thou art the man.' Evasion is impossi-
ble, denial equally impossible. He looks troubled,
his tongue falters, his limbs tremble, and he feels
like the wretched blood-stained Ahab when he ex-
claimed to the messenger of Jehovah — ' Hast thou
found me O mine enemy !' Reader, the best garb
of hypocrisy, which you can wear, it is so full of
holes that every sin which you have committed can
be seen through it by the eye of divine justice.

JUSTICE PURSUING.

101

But may not the criminal escape arrest although
overtaken and recognized? He may from human
justice. Armed with deadly instruments, ho may
prevent the officer of justice from placing a hand
upon him. Or if seized, he may, by superior
strength and desperate courage break away and
escape. He may take shelter behind walls or
within gates, which the pursuer cannot force open,
or break down. He may occupy a place so high,
and wield such power, that any attempt to inter-
fere with his liberty would be followed by the
death of the man who made the attempt. Thus
some dress splendidly who should wear the felon's
garb ; some occuijy palaces who deserve to be in
dungeons ; some fare sumptuously every day, who
ought to eat the bread and water of affliction ; and
some hold the reins of power whose crimes merit
the burdens of chains. It is not so with divine
justice, when it undertakes the aiTest of an offen-
der. It can neither be outbarred, nor overpower-
ed. Where is the deadly weapon which it need
fear ? Where is the arm which can break away
from its grasp ? Where is the gate which it can-
not break open, or where the wall which it cannot
scale or throw down? Where lives the noble, or
the monarch, whose rank or influence it must re-
spect? Behold, it seized Lucifer, the son of the
morning, when he raised his head in rebellion
against the Most High, and must it shrink from

i\.

102

URGENT APPE.VLS.

touching a worm of earth ? It has bound princi-
palities and powers of angelic rank, in chains of
darkness, which they never can throw off; and
woe to the sons of mortals who count upon an es-
cape from its inflexible grasp. Starting from the
centre of authority, the throne of the Eternal, it
sweeps with its influence the whole circumference
of creation. There is no spot so low that it may
not descend to it, nor any so high that it cannot
ascend to it. Nothing is beneath its notice, nor
is anything hidden from its gaze. Its accuracy
estimates the demerit of a sinful thought ; and its
fidelity records the punishment demanded. Its
impartiality binds in the same chain, the slave and
the emperor ; and its power constrains, with e-
qual ease, the myriad and the unit, to stand before
the great tribunal. O unconverted sinner, how
vain your ideas of escape, concealment, or resist-
ance ! Unpardoned, justice is now on your track,
and may at any moment lay its iron grasp upon
your shoulder; and then, all is over with you.
Your body collapses under the pressure, and your
soul, loaded with chains of despair, sinks to the
pit of eternal wailing. Will you yet doubt?
Contemplate then,

III. JUDGMENT OVERTAXING THE SINNER.

If justice can neither be outstripped, nor outwit-
ted, nor outbarred, nor overpowered, it follows as a

JUDGMENT OVERTAKING THE SINNER.

103

necessary conclusion that the sinner shall be arrest-
ed and brought to judgment Can he there escape
punishment? — By no means. When the Judge
takes his place upon the throne of judgment, it is
to rciider to every one according to his deeds.
Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ? But
is he not a God of infinite mercy, and may he not
forbear to punish at the last moment ? Alas I on
this broken reed millions rest their hopes for eter-
nity. He is, indeed, a God of infinite mercy, for-
giving iniquity, transgression and sin, but, at the
same time, he never sufifers the guilty to escape
their merited punishment. The guilty are all the
unpardoned. No mercy is dispensed from the
throne of judgment. When we appear there, it is
to receive accordhig to the things done in the body,
whether good or bad. Those who obtain mercy,
obtain it before they are summoned to judgment ;
and, on appearing there, are pronounced righteous
for there is nothing found against them. But the
sinner in fleeing from God, bars his heail; against
repentance ; and renders the instrui icnt of mercy
impossible ; and thus exj^oses himself to the crush-
ing stroke of divine vengeance. Judgment must
overtake him. So long as the arm of omnipotence
retains its strength, the sword of justice will not
fail to descend upon the head of the guilty.

Judgment is not wholly reserved for the land of
spirits. A part, and often an important, impressive

1 ■;

104

URGENT APPEALS.

n u

and instructive part, is administered within the con-
uncs of time. This is the case with those offenders
who, in respect to their general character, are good
men. Lot's undue regard for the possessions and
enjoyment of this life, as seen in his choice of
a rich, though wicked city, as his place of abode,
found him out, in the double judgment of loss of
property and character. The bloody transaction
that laid the brave Uriah low in death, found
David out. The sword that narrowly escaped his
own held fell heavily upon his family, sending
Amnon, Absalom, and Adonijah to untimely
graves. The mad rebellion which resulted in the
preposterous flight of the hasty and ill-tempered
Jonah speedil}^ overtook him. He found it harder
to get to Tarshish than to go to Nineveh. The
sea refused to carry him, and a monster of the
deep thrust him back on the very coast from which
he had attempted to flee from the presence of
Jehovah. In Corinth, the desecration of the
Lord's supper, by the carnal feasti^ig on the sym-
bols of the body and blood of the Lord, soon
overtook the ignorant and irreverent communi-
cants. That which they intended should nourish
the body, brought the judgment of death upon it
in the case of many. Every generation has fur-
nished its examples . And there are few intelligent
and observant Christinns who have not noticed
particular failings and offences bring home their

JUDGMENT OVERTAKING THE SINNER.

105

fruits, in such a time and way, as left no doubt of
their judicial connection. An inspired writer says :
" Thou wast a God that forgavcst them, though
thou tookest vengeance of their inventions."

In respect to the ungodly innumerable confirma-
tions of the doctrine might be produced. A few
of the more prominent in sacred history are selected .

Cain, the first of a Satanic band of murderers,
closed his eyes to the claims of kindred, home and
humanity, and found his reward in a perpetual
brand of infamy, and in expulsion from kindred,
home and country. The sons of Jacob, in their
envy against a younger brother, were deaf to his
entreaties and unmoved at his tears, but had their
sin brought home to them, at a future time, by
harsh, severe and repulsive treatment, which con-
strained them, on bended knees, to supplicate the
favour of that very Joseph whom they had cruelly
and unnaturally sold into bondage. The Egyptians
grew rich on the unrewarded labours of the He-
brews ; but they were glad, at last, to get clear of
them by handing over to them their most costly
jewels. They were deaf to the mourning in
Hebrew homes, when their little ones were cruelly
torn from them; but their sin found them out,
when every home in Egypt was filled with wailing,
for their first-bom was slain. They stood un-
moved at the gurgling cry of the Hebrew infant
sinking in the Nile ; but they had their reward

w 1

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Ml

•tWii,^ — *._

106

URGENT APPEALS.

when the Hebrew stood unmoved at the drowninjr
shrieks of the haughty Pharoah and his mighty
captains contending, in vain, with the raging
billows of the Red Sea. Adoni-besek, a powerful
chieftain in Canaan, took a brutal pleasure in
maiming the hands and feet of the chiefs who fell
into his power. He ran his course of victory for
a time. But his sin pursued him, and when it
came to be his turn to know the sorrows of captiv-
ity, his maimed hands and feet proved that his
brutality was not forgotten. Joab, the son of
Zeruiah, was an able general, but an ambitiouet
violent and unscrupulous man. He basely and
treacherously slew his rival, Abner. Many years
of honour and enjoyment rolled past, but the
blood of Abner still followed him ; and now in his
grey hairs, vengeance overtakes him, and even
the sanctuary cannot shield him from a violent
death. The wicked sometimes fall into the pit,
or are hanged upon the gallows, which they have
prepared for the righteous. The plot of the en-
emies of Daniel succeeded in bringing him into the
den of lions. There God befriended him, and the
lions loft him unharmed. But their crime quickly
ovei-took the malicious schemers, in the horrors
of that same den, with neither God nor man to
befriend them. Haman, the wicked, prepared a
gallows for Mordecai, the upright, but before many
days he himself swung upon that gallows, while

mighty
raging
owerful
sure in
vho fell
bory for
vhen it
captiv-
;hat his
son of
ibitiouK
jly and
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)ut the
V in his
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sy have
:;he en-
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%nd the
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emany
while

JUDGMENT OVERTASKING THE SINNER. 107

Mordecai was adorned with princely honors. But
to pass many others, the crime of crimes followed
the perpetrators of it with unparalleled vengeance.
In this case the judgment was madly invoked upon
themselves and their children. It was granted.
Th^y shed the blood of the innocent Son of God,
and their blood and the blood of their children for
centuries was shed like water. And who has read
the pages of Greek or Roman, French or Spanish,
English or Scotch history without finding in every
period traces of the same principle everywhere
pervading the providential government of God?
And let none suppose that only crimes of great
magnitude, such as inhumanity, treachery, and
bloodshed follow the perpetrators till they are
overtaken. Every sin is in its measure animated
by the same spirit, and acts upon the same princi-
ple of undeviatingly pursuing the sinner until
satisfaction is obtained. Reader, may I press this
subject on your present and earnest attention?

Do you sin, and in what? Is the first great
commandment broken, by centring your supreme
affection on some earthly idol? — Be sure your sin
will find you out. That idol will be broken ; and
your hopes, based on it, will meet a sad disappoint-
ment ; and in your sorrows you may read your sin.

Is your religion a mere form, a cold-hearted
hypocrisy ? — Be sure your sin will find you out.
Every shred of hypocrisy ^i^ill be torn off, and you

. i

108

URGENT APPEALS.

I« 1 1 : /

will be exposed; perhaps, at a time, when the
shame and pain of the exposure, can receive neither
sympathy, nor alleviation.

Do you ever take God's holy name in vain ? —
Be sure your sin will find you out. God keeps a
record of your irreverent words, and he will show
it to you some day, when you will see your sin
come home to you, with the stings of a scorpion.

Is God*s day profaned by you ? — ^Be sure your
sin will find you out. Did mortal man ever yet
gain anything by robbing God ? You are robbing
yourself, and you will yet see it. Sabbath-break-
ing will blast your soul and your estate in this
world, and if not repented of, will look you in the
face in eternity with vengeful accusations.

Are the claims of relationship disregarded? —
Be sure your sin will find you out. You will re-
ceive as you have given, good measure, pressed
down, and running over ; and you will not fail to
trace the connection between cause and effect.

Are you destroying your life by intoxicating
liquors, or are you dealing them out indiscrimi-
nately to others ? — ^Be sure your sin will find you
out. A broken constitution, or a premature death,
will proclaim to others, if you are too deaf to
hear, that your sin has found you out. And your
ill-gotten gains by the traffic, will bring no bless-
ing to your children ; and in their drunkenness, or
in that of their connections, you may see the
judgment of your sin.

JUDGMENT OVERTAKING THE SINNER.

109

Are you practising uncleanness ? — Be sure your
sin will find you out. A diseased or enfeebled
body, a wounded conscience, and a ruined repu-
tation will speedily overtake you. You shall not
go unpunished.

Do you deprive your neighbour of his rights by
theft, deceit, or extortion ? — ^Be sure your sin will
find you out. A curse will rest upon such gain ;
and your sin will, in some unexpected hour,
bestride your path, look you in the face, and de-
mand immediate restoration.

Do you lie ? — Be sure your sin will find you out.
Your falsehood however far it may travel from
home, will return to you, and not alone, it will
bring a motley group of companions. You shall
find them anything but pleasant. They will plant
your bed with thorns, and arm every man against
you.

Do you cherish a covetous and grasping dispo-
sition ? — ^Be sure your sin will find you out. It will
lead you to means and measures which if success-
ful will distress and burden you, and if unsuccess-
ful will disgrace, if they do not destroy you.
Govetousness is the mother of many sins, and she
is often compelled to own the relationship in the
day of retribution.

Reader, how do you answer these questions?
Do you say, I am innocent? No ; you cannot ; for
you have sinned in some or all of these particulars

tei

IMi

110

URGENT APPEALS.

— and, perhaps, you are now living in some of
these sins. If you are, let me assure you that
your sins are in full pursuit of you, and, by a law
as certain as that which moves the planets, will
overtake you unless you find refuge in Christ.
He is the great and only refuge for sinners.
Would a criminal pursued by the officers of justice
despise a door thrown open to receive him?
Would he not hail the sight of it with rapture, and
rush within it? See, then, O see the open door
of heavenly mercy in Jesus Christ I Hasten to it,
and you are safe. The sword of divine justice
will not pursue you within that refuge, for there
is no condemnation to them who are in Christ
Jesus. At that door every demand is satisfied,
and the refugee is set at liberty. Flee now. While
you read these lines, pause, and lift your heart to
Christ, and say — ' Keceive me O refuge of sinners,
into thy gracious shelter.* If you tarry for an
hour, the door may be shut, and then, the thunders
of eternal vengeance will burst upon you, and O
whither will you turn ? — ^there will be no hiding
place from the storm, no covert from the tempest.
Sinner though you be, rush to Christ, and in one
moment the everlasting arms of Jehovah are
around you, and you are safe — for ever !

-«?

CHAPTER V.

" Because I have called and ye reftiseil ; I have stretched out my hand

and no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all my counsel,

and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your

calamity ; I will mock when your fear cometh.''

Proverbs ICH. 24-26 vs.

It is well that men should consider that God's
patience, although lasting, is not everlasting; and
that his forbearance, although often wonderfully
lengthened out, will be succeeded, if repentence
prevent not, by an outburst of indignation. He has
unalterably determined to punish sin wherever it
is found. The highest archangel will be no more
exempted than the meanest slave of earth. And
his justice will demand that the punishment meted
out, will be carefully balanced with the guilt.
But that the connexion between the crime and the
punishment may be more readily traced, and its
effect more deeply felt, the punishment is often
made to correspond to the nature of the sin, as
well as to be in exact proportion to its guilt.
" They have sown the wind and they shall reap

-li

112

URGENT APPEALS.

f :

the whirlwind, ^^ The propriety or uatuml fitness
of this result is very manifest.

Sin may be compared to a poisonous genus of
the vegetable kingdom. Its species are numerous
and varied. And while all are deadly in their
effects, some display more extensively their viru-
lent properties, and are more rapid in their de-
structive tendencies than others. If any person
should choose to sow any of these poisonous species,
what more natural or becoming than that he should
gather the fruit corresponding to the species sown.
One might feel disposed to scatter the less noxious
seed, another the more deadly ; and in both cases
appropriate fruit would be looked for. Men are
not accustomed to sow without the desire and ex-
pectation of reaping — nor do they contemplate
reaping a harvest totally different from the seed
which they have cast into the earth.

The same law prevails in the kingdom of morals.
Every moral or immoral act bears its own fruit.
The actor, in his ignorance, may not fully under-
stand the nature of his deed, and hence may very
imperfectly foresee the consequences, but this
darkness will not change the nature of the result.
" Be not deceived," saith the Holy Ghost, — ^alluding
to the prevalent and fondly cherished error, that
good might spring out of evil — " for whatsoever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that
soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corrup-

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ILLUSTRATIONS

113

fitness

tion — but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the
Spirit reap life everlasting." This testimony is
decisive. The analogy is drawn by him who is
both Creator and moral Governor, and whose com-
prehension of all relationships and consequences is
intuitive and absolutely »)crfoct. Let Vac sinner
pause. Let him consider. Av^hat he now sows,
he shall reap both in quantity and quality. Re-
pentence alone can undo what is done, and stop
the growth of the poisonous crop before it reaches
maturity. If it reach maturity, it must be appro-
priated by tliC sower. It may not be made over
to anothei ; it cannot be cast aside as unsatisfactory.
In this the moral differs from the natural. The
gardener may reject the fruit which he has cul-
tivated, because not adapted to his taste, and the
farmer may sell his grain to another ; but in the
moral kingdom, every man must eat his own fruity
whether healthgiving or poisonous, and on his own
harvest must he feed for ever. Admitting this,
is it not vain for any to sow that which in the day
of harvest can afford no nutriment — no pleasure ;
and has not vanity expanded into folly, when not
simply the useless, but the noxious, are chosen
for cultivation ; and has not folly ripened into
madness, when of all the poisonous seed, the most
corrupting, destructive, and deadly are selected by
a rational soul to produce the sole harvest for
future and eternal sustinence ?

114

iniOENT APPEALS.

Or, to alter the illustration. Sin, introduced
into our world by the old Serpent, the devil, is a
race of serpents. It is amazinf^ly prolific, and of
its numerous species, not one is hannless, all are
venomous, and many exceedingly poisonous. All
possess the power of charming, but some are in-
tensely fascinating. Like their parent they can
assume any guise that will secure their acceptance
and indwelling in the bosom of the tempted. The
most voracious can assume the gentleness of the
dove, the most corrupting the whiteness of the
lily, and the most horrifying, the loveliness of the
rose. The sting of each is peculiar t(t itself.
Hence he who would plant in his bosom the most
venomous, need not expect to escape with the
irritating bite of an insect, but may prepare for
the mortal agonies which result from the injection
of the deadliest poison.

Dropping all metaphor, the punishment of the
sinner shall correspond to the nature of his crime
— ^his mental agonies shall partake of a character
peculiar to the sin which chiefly marked his re-
bellion against God. This is the idea of the text.
God had called, beckoned, counselled, reproved ;
and his calling was refused, his beckoning disre-
garded, his counsel slighted, and his reproof de-
spised. Here is sin of a very positive stamp,
highly offensive, provoking, repeated, confirmed.
It must be punished, it shall be punished severely.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

115

need
is a

id of

1 are
All

5 ill-
can

But in what way? — It shall be shortly their turn
to call, it sliall be their turn to stretch out their
hands, and cry for help ; but now God will treat
them as they treated him — as he called and they
refused, so they shall call and he shall refuse — as
he stretched out his hand to them in vain, so they
shall stretch out their hands to him in vain — as
they slighted and despised his counsel and reproof,
so he shall slight and despise all their outcries and
agonies ; he will laugh at their calamity and mock
when their fear cometh.*' Thus shall they eat of
the fniit of their own way, and be filled with their
own devices.

Reader, life is your seed time, eternity is the
harvest. Would the just equivalent for the past
afford you an agreeable future ? Should God deal
with you as you have dealt with him, would you
meet as friends or foes? You cannot avoid the
future, you are rushing towards it irresistibly.
What shall it be ? You are now shaping its form
— ^you are now weaving the garment which you are
to wear — ^you are now building the house in which
you are to dwell — ^you are now selecting your
eternal companions — the whole everlasting future
is taking form, colour, character, vitality from
your present actions. If you are yet unpardoned,
if you have rejected God till this hour, let me show
you what God has done to reclaim you — what re-
turn you have made to him — and what consequen-

116

UnOENT APPEALS.

ces must certainly follow your conduct if persisted
in, and may God open your eyes to see, and your
heart to feel, what demands your immediate atten-
tion, to the exclusion of every other consideration.

I GOD 8 ATTEMIT TO KECLAIM THE SINNER.

What has God doiie? He called to the sinner.
Why, what was the matter? Had he lost his way,
and was he advancing to some fearful precipice,
on the brink of which there was no foothold ? — Or
was he floundering in the quagmire of corruption,
and unable to discover any way of escape ? — Was
he drinking and carousing with those who pro-
fessed to be his best friends, but who had resolved
to rob and murder him, ere the day dawned ? Was
he profoundly asleep in a dwelling, around which
the waters of a tremendous inundation were rapidly
rising? Or was he, like some despised outcast,
sitting down beside the swine's trough, seeking the
meanest satisfaction of his animal wants ?— Yes ;
in one or other of these positions the benign eye
of God saw him, and he was moved to make a
sincere effort to save him. In this he was actuated
by the purest benevolence . He might have allowed
him to go on till the sudden fall and painful crash
had revealed his sad mistake. He might have left
him to sink, uucared for, in that mire into which
he had chosen to go, in preference to walking on

If i

ATTEMPTS TO RECLAIM.

117

rsisted
d your
i atten-
ration.

fER.

dinner.
sway,
cipice,
?— Or
iption,
-Was
> pro-
solved
• Was
which
apidly
itcast,
iig the
-Yes;
11 eye
ake a
uated
lowed
crash
e left
vhich
igon

the sure path of the king's highway. He might
have allowed him to enjoy the mirth of these false
friends, until sharp experience would discover to
him their true character. He could have allowed
the chill waters of the overflowing deluge to be
the first admonition of his woeful and hopeless
condition. Or, he might have left him to live and
die with the beasts of the field, to whom he had
made himself so much akin, by the reckless in-
dulgence of his lusts. But the parental solicitude
of God prompted to a course directly beneficial to
the sinner. He called to him. But how? — and
why?

He spoke by Providence. The early, sudden,
and unlooked for death of some friend, or acquaint-
ance, proclaimed the vanity of human hopes. The
mournful career of the profligate and criminal
warned against the certain rewards of iniquity.
The alarms and outcries of the impenitent's death-
bed condemned, in loudest tones, the folly of those
who neglect the salvation of the soul ; and indi-
cated in a way, too plainly to be mistaken, the
future woes which await transgressors. Few are
so deaf that they cannot hear this voice, few so cal-
lous as not to be startled by it, when its trumpet
tones are sounded in their ears.

He spoke by his Word, The very sight of it in
the opened trunk, on the family table, in the book
store, or on the pulpit desk bespoke its object.

i I

118

URGENT APPEALS.

When read, or heard, or enforced in the sanctuai y,
the voice of God was heard. And what deserved
more attention than the law of the eternal King,
by which the destiny ot' each immortal soul will bo
determined, on the great day of judgment ? What
more entitled to minute investigation than the
testament of Him who by his death left us, on
certain conditions, the glorious legacy of eternal
life ? What could claim more frequent and careful
perusal than the counsels and admonitions, the
promises and encouragements, of the Teacher come
from God — very God manifest in the flesh ? Who,
that ever comprehended the message of this won-
drous book, could doubt that God has spoken
by it?'

He called by Conscience. There is in the breast
of every man, a principle, a power, a voice which,
acting the part both of sentinel and judge, giv^s
notice of the approach of good or evil, and ap-
proves or condemns as the one, or other, is re-
ceived and obeyed. It is true that this sentinel
is sometimes dim-sighted, is frequently deceived,
and too often sleeps at his post, and his decisions
take shape accordingly ; but this does not disprove
his place and authority, or the powerful influence
which he may wield when properly stimulated to
fulfill his duty. At times the sensibility of this
principle is amazing, and its accusations and oft
repeated denunciations truly alarming. Then, it

ATTEMPTS TO RECLAIM.

119

ctuaiy,

jserved
King,

will bo
What
an the
us, on
eternal

areful
us, the
rcome

Who,
3 won-
poken

breast
vhich,
givrs
d ap-
is re-
ntinel
dved,
isions
prove
lence
Bd to
' this
1 oft
n, it

is, that its voice sustained by reason and the dic-
tates of humanity, may be regarded as the voice
of God. It is he who has brightened the eye of
the sentinel ij discover the designing foe, and in-
fused fire and courage into the judge to app^y the
lash with inexorable severity. How often, and in
how many different circumstances, has the charac-
ter of these internal admonitions revealed the
judgment of the Eternal, in respect to our conduct.
By the open grave, by the bed of death, in the
house of God, in the market place, on the high-
way, and on the couch of rest, has this secret
monitor dropped in broken whispers, or urged in
fiercest tones, the will of the Supreme. Who will
gainsay this ?

He called by his Spirit. Who can dispute
the ability of the omnipresent Spirit to indicate his
will to the mind of his rational creatures, when
and where he pleases? And who, in the face of
scripture and experience, can deny that his in-
fluence has been felt — his voice heard — urging on
to duty, and drawing back from sin ? The pre-
vailing tone of this voice is gentle and tender.
It is the still small voice of the Unseen. But it is
most decided ; there is no hesitancy, no wavering.
It is heard away from the bustle of this world, out
from the crowd, in seasons of retirement, on the
sick bed, and in the house of prayer. Its mild
but firm remoubtrances, its gentle but pressing

'
i

120

URGENT APPEALS.

'fl<

■ 1

invitations, its prompt and keen appeals when
circumstances offer special advantages are, alas I
too often unheeded, and the Spirit slighted, dis-
regarded and grieved, leaves the sinner to his folly,
his carnality, his self-deception and his self-de-
struction . * My Spirit , ' saith God , * shall not always
strive with man.* The wonder is, that he should
strive at all. But his thoughts are not as our
thoughts. Often he calls through the voice of
man. Selecting his instrument, he fills him with
wisdom and power, and through him invites, ex-
horts and warns against approaching wrath . Thus ,
directly and indirectly, by his Providence, his
Word, the human Conscience, and his own Spirit,
and by none more condescendingly and more
graciously than by the last, God calls to erring,
dying man.

And why ? Because he would recover and save
him. He would recall him from danger, and point
him to the path of safety. He would relieve his
burdened spirit, with the sweetest consolations.
He would rescue him from cruel captivity, and
place him in the enjoyment of blissful freedom.
He would restore to him his lost patrimony, and
enrich him with a never-fading inheritance. And
to crown all, he would redeem his soul from hell,
and enthrone him in everlasting glory. O, it was
all from pity, and from love, that he called ; and
it was all from the purest, and the noblest, and the

ATTEMPTS TO RECLAIM.

121

when
alas I
1, dis-
J folly,
elf-de-
ilways
should
as our
•ice of
with
ex-
Thus,
his
spirit,
more
rring,

1 save
point
^e his
fcions.
) and
dom.

and

And

hell,

\> was

and
Ithe

most benevolent designs. Why should not man
answer ; why should he not obey ; why should he
not come ?

But God did more than simply call. He stretch"
ed out his hand. This was the natural outgoing of
earnest feeling, and a significant expression of what
he wished to be done. God was very earnest in
seeking the salvation of man. There was no de-
ception in him. He did not invite, and secretly
wish that the invited would not come. He did not
sound an alarm of danger, and feel indifferent
whether the warning should be heeded or not.
The providing of a glorious and all-secure refuge
for those pursued by an awful vengeance ever
gaining upon them, indicated anything but indif-
ference to the terrors of the pursued. What man
possessed of parental feeling could stand with
folded arms, and simply call to his child running
towards the brink of a precipice. Would not the
thrust out arms accompany the loud call, and both
be attended with an immediate rush towards the
child ? Deep feeling will show itself in the atti-
tudes and gestures of the body. God speaks to
us after the manner of men. He means that he
clearly showed that he was deeply in earnest in
calling to sinners, and that he gave evident signs,
by which his will might be fully known. His arm
was stretched out when he smote the Red Sea, that
his ransomed might pass over ; and a similar indi-

122

URGENT APPEALS.

cation of his supreme will brought back the waters
for the destruction of their foes. He showed him-
self equally mighty to save and to destroy. These
were signs and seals which none but the wilfully
blind could fail to perceive. At later periods, he
frequently confirmed his word, and showed him-
self to be really in earnest in his threatenings by
stretching out his hand over various countries,
and desolating them by the scourge of war. But
before it is stretched out to destroy, it is long and
patiently stretched out to save. It was so in this
case. His hand was stretched far down into the
horrible pit, to lift the sinner from the miry clay.
It was stretched far out and waved, to draw the
attention of the lost, to the wide-spread and awful
conflagration, ascending from the pit towards which
they were hastening. It was stretched out most
patiently, to direct the bewildered to the only way
of escape, and the perplexed and despairing to the
only rest for the weary. And oh I the gentle man-
ner, in which it beckoned to, and encouraged the
abased and wretched prodigal, to return to the arms
of parental love. And when the soul would droop,
and cleave to the dust, with what exquisite tender-
ness &ix3. condescension would it lift it up, and point
to the Mount Zion above, encircled with light, and
to the crowns of glory glittering on the heads of
those who had triumphed over the corruptions of
earth. And was all this earnest, powerful and
winning signation in vain ?

ATTEMPTS TO RECLAIM.

123

e waters
'^ed him-
Thesc
wilfully
iods, he
ed him-
ings by
untries,
r. But
ong and
> in this
nto the
•y clay,
•aw the
d awful
is which
it most
ily way
g to the
le man-
ned the
16 arms
droop,
tender-
i point
^t, and
ads of
ions of
il and

And while he stretched out his hand, he seriously
counselled. And such advice I Was anything
ever heard so wise, so opportune, so suitable?
Ignorance and deception were alike impossible.
He knew the true state of the sinner. All the in-
fluences that operated upon him were accurately
scanned ; and the certain consequence of each line
of conduct clearly foreseen. Probabilities found
no place in his calculations — all were certainties.
The advice was timely. Mistakes had been com-
mitted, but these could be rectified. Beformation
was yet possible. In vain do you counsel, when
ruin is beyond remedy. But God saw that man
could yet escape. He had provided the means for
this. He therefore counselled, and that peremp-
torily. Now was the time to take advantage of
most favourable circumstances. O the value of
advice at such a time ! And it was so suitable.
It met the very condition of the sinner. It em-
braced all the possibilities of his state. No one
could aet it aside, as not meeting his case. It
reached the most desperate within the domains of
mercy. If he had not strength to rise and flee
from the coming wrath, he might at least grasp the
friendly hand placed within his reach to aid him.
If he could not lay hold on that hope set before
him, he might at least cry to be lifted and carried
to the place of safety. If too much exhausted for
utterance, the counsel was to look — ^to fix his eye,

124

URGENT APPEALS.

like the wounded Israelite, on the object of faith —
and the verj^ look of faith to him who gave him
counsel, would stay the progress of disease and
death, and infuse new life and vigor into his soul.
There was nothing unnecessary, nothing obscure.
All was simple and perfectly intelligible by the
most ordinary capacity. It was directly to the
point, and it could not be mistaken. O the folly
and perversity that could reject it I

But finding that advice was unavailing Go J pro-
ceeded to reprove. He named the sins that had
been committed, stripped them of all pretences,
set them in the light of his law, and charged the
sinner as a high criminal in the sight of heaven.
He had violated express commands, dishonored
God, injured his fellow mortal, and endangered
his own soul. And this was the aggravating cir-
cumstance, that ho had persisted in his evil ways,
in utter disregard of the call and advice and warn-
ing of God, showing clearly that he loved darkness
rather than light, and would not come to the light
lest his deeds should be reproved. But now to
the light God would bring his deeds, and com-
pel him to look at them, until his soul would be
filled with shame and sorrow. This was kindness
on the part of God, although it may appear severi-
ty. He only brought facts to light ; and he brought
them now to light that they might be remedied.
They must come to light at some time, and at a

MERCY REJECTED.

125

f faith —
ive him
ase and
is soul.
)bscui-e.
by the
to the
le folly

o J pro-
lat had

itences,

red the

learen.

onored

ngered

ng cir-
ways,
warn-

rkness

e light

ow to
com-

ild be

idness

everi-

oiight

idied.

i at a

later period mercy might be unattainable. Re-
proof and shame must follow their exposure — ^but
these unpleasant feelings have now become indis-
pensable, and they are designed to be salutary.
It is hoped that sharp, stern words may yet
awaken the dormant feelings of the soul, and open
the eyes of the understanding to the folly and guilt
of the course now pursued. If under all this,
there is no perception of folly, no sense of guilt,
no feeling of shame, the soul is "past feeling,"
and little remains, but that justice and judgment
should do their work. O mournful infatuation!
That God himself should call, beckon, advise and
reprove, and all in vain ! Reader, shall it be so
with you ?

II. THE sinner's rejection OF DIVINE MERCY.

Every effort on God's part was met either by
indifference, or opposition or contempt on the part
of the sinner. God called, but he refused. It
mattered not whether it was the voice of provi-
dence or of conscience, the word or the spirit; in
each case, the proud rebellious mortal disowned
the authority, and persisted in his course. So
blinded was he that his own way seemed prefer-
able to every other. So bent was he upon the
pleasures in which his soul laboured to find satis-
faction, that it was in vain that he was told that

126

ITROENT APPEALS.

there were joys nobler and better, within his reach,
which he was entirely overlooking. He refused
to give up his cards for the Bible, the dance for
the prayer meeting, or the songs of revelry for the
anthems of praise . In vain was heaven spoken of
— it had no attractions for him ; all he desired were
the pleasures of time. The mention of hell awak-
ened equally little attention; its very existence
was doubted, and if it did exist, within the limits
of God's universe, it was regarded at such a dis-
tance that there was no probability of his spirit
finding a lodgment in it. The forgiveness of sins
had no value in his eyes, for he did not feel him-
self a sinner. The robe of righteousness he could
not comprehend, for he never supposed himself to
be naked in the sight of God. The wrath of God
was, indeed, something fearful, but he imagined
himself to be among the very last on whom such
a visitation should come. And as for any imme-
diate danger, why, he could not descry it. In fact,
he wanted to have nothing to do with God — spirit-
ual and eternal verities being an unsought inter-
ruption to the business and enjoyments of life.
Ignorance and fear, carnality and unbelief, com-
bined to give a uniform refusal to every call from
heaven.

The appeal to the eye was no more successful
than the appeal to the ear. The hand of God was
outstretched, but no man regarded. It was

MERCY BEJEGTED.

127

}flll

ras

brought down within the reach of the perishing
soul, but none would seize it. It was held up in
warning of coming wrath, but without avail. It
pointed the burdened, downcast soul to Mount
Zion as the region of eternal rest, but the eye was
too much fixed on earth to heed the indication.
It gave emphasis and point and force to the most
urfrent invitations, but the spell-bound spirit still
held back. The hand may be withdrawn, the in-
difference is too strong to be removed by any
exhibition of reason or feeling.

The advice, too, is despised. It is set at
nought—counted as worthless. It is gainsay ed
and rejected. Is there any abject slave of Satan
who does not consider himself wiser than the Most
High ? What need has he of counsel I In his own
eyes he is equal to any emergency. Times and
circumstances are not to be considered, he is pre-
pared at all times. Does he not foresee all dan-
gers ! Is not every avenue of safety open at his
hand ! Has he not weighed all causes, and esti-
mated all contingencies ! Has not his own eye
discovered the path of wisdom and who can de-
monstrate that he has ever gone astray I Alas !
folly has reached its climax in absurdity. The
creature has sat in judgment on the Creator, and
condemned him as unwise 1 The advice of the all-
wise God is set aside as of no value I Is it come
to this?

■ '2

128

URGENT APPEALS.

I''

ll-i

Reproof he will not tolerate. He will have none
of it, even should it come from God himself. He
thanks no one for telling him his faults ; and still
less is he pleased for threatening any adverse con-
sequences as attending them. What has he done
more than a thousand others have done, and are
they lost? Let every man, he says, look after
himself — as for him he is quite able to do the same.
When he thinks he has done wrong, he will tiy to
do better, but he allows no one to be a judge of
his actions. He considers himself his own master,
and he will do whatever is right in his own eyes.
Could insolence rise higher than this ? Not only
will he commit sin, but he insists on being left
alone to sin. No one must tell him that he has
erred — no one must interfere with what he is
pleased to carry out. Let the Almighty stand out
of his way, and give himself no further trouble
about his conduct. These are the utterances of
his proud spirit, and this the only request he has
to offer. What is to be done ? He will not own
his sins, and hence will not bear to be reproved
for them; he scorns all thought of repentance,
and will persist in his own ways — he is bent on
ruin, and to ruin he will go. There is no further
remedy.

III. SIN SUITABLY AND DREADFULLY PUNISHED,

A change has come. The sunshine of prosperity

ai
ni

SIN SUITABLY PUNISHED.

121)

and pleasure has passed away, and the gloom of
night has followed. The songs of mirth and the
melodies of music are hushed, and the dance has
ceased. The bustle and the turmoil of life have
stopped, and the days of business are closed.
The day of reckoning has arrived, and a settle-
ment for eternity is demanded. God now appears
on the scene. The soul acknowledges his pres-
ence. Earth can no longer absorb every thought.
A new world now rises into view, and alas ! for
the sinner, it seems to him tilled with terrors.
Calamities begin to rain down upon him. His
hopes fail one after another. He looks around
to his friends and companions for comfort, but
they stand aghast at his alarm. They cannot see
what he sees — they cannot feel what he feels. Is
the cup of pleasure held to him, he turns away from
it with loathing. Is his wealth spoken of, the very
mention of it awakens remorse for the folly that
induced him to set his heart upon it. Are his
good deeds spoken of, he feels that they afford no
more shelter from the descending wrath than the
spider's web from the tempest. He hastens to one
excuse after another, but each in its turn has to be
abandoned as the blast of divine vengeance hurls
it, as a refuge of lies, upon the head of its occupant.
And now his evil deeds assault him like hungry
wolves. They leap uprm, they seize him, they
surround him; each one thirsting for blood —

130

URGENT APPEALS.

oach one greedy for vengeance. His imagination
is on fire, bnt it grasps only realities. Memory
has the eyes and wings of an eagle, and speeds
over the journey of life, and detecting each error
and each crime, pounces upon it and seizing it holds
it up before the distracted soul until the imagination
endows it with the powers of a fiery serpent, and
the soul writhes under the bite of the venemous
reptile. Who would have thought that thosa
things so often styled harmless and delicious
would have been transformed into ravening wolves
and biting serpents? Every soul that has been
injured b}' his career of ungodliness, profligacy,
and infidelity now seems to rise up before him,
and with flaming eyes and threatening gestures,
cries out the day of vengeance has come at last.
Calamity has increased to desolation . Look around ;
nought can be seen but the howling wilderness,
over which the fiery curse has passed, blackening
every object in its progress. No sweet sound
reaches the ear, no pleasant sight attracts the eye.
Every enjoyment, every comfort, even every hope
has fled, and the soul is left a prey to those vile
animals which inhabit the wastes of desolation.
They do their work, for desolation ripens into
destruction. The soul has no power to resist them.
Like a ship caught by the tempest, and driven
away, by its violence, towards the rocks ; the
p ichors are dropped, but the chains are snapped

t**\

81N SUITABLY PUNISHED.

131

at once ; the helm is pressed, but in vain, the ship
refuses to obey it, it is unshipped and broken — the
desolation increases every moment — the waves roll
higher as the waters grow shallow — at last the fatal
blow is heard ; she has struck, and, in an instant, the
decks are swept by the billows ; and, the next
moment the masts are carried off by the tempest ;
the waters are rushing in, the ship is parting —
destruction has come . How wretched the condition
of every soul of which this is a true representation !
TeiTors within, around, above, and beneath. Who
can picture its agitation? At the fiist serious
apprehension of danger, fear took up its lodgment
in the soul, but that term soon tailed to convey the
real state of the sinner. He did indeed fear being
left to his own thoughts, for he had become a terror
to himself; he dreaded the scoffing and tortures
of the devils ; and was filled with alarm at the
tokens of impending woe. But as calamities poured
down upon him, the waters of trouble rolled in
upon his soul. He felt as well as feared. He who
often laughed when warned of the consequences of
sin, could laugh no more. Sharp experience gave
the best answer to all his boasted sophisms. How-
ever anxious to conceal his feelings, it was no longer
possible. Trouble rose within; and overflowed
all restraints. Woe seemed to descend in ever
increasing volume. All creation seemed at war
with him — and no pitying look, no consoling word

►I

ill

132

URGENT APPEALS.

IS 1

came from any quarter. Anguish seized him. He
cried out in his despair, * Woe is me ! woe is me ! I
am a lost soul. Hell is ready to receive me ! The
devils are waiting for me ! I have loved sin, I have
hated God, I have despised wrath, I have rejected
mercv . God has forsaken me , I am undone forever !'
But is he not mistaken ? Can not God save even
to the very uttermost? Yes, but whom?-— -Those
who come to Christ — those who seek in time —
those who aok while mercy is oflered. But none
receive mercy after God has withdrawn the
offer. None find God who, after despising advice,
are left to their own blindness. And none come
to Christ who have, in his day of grace, and
throughout his time of acceptance, refused his call
and disregarded his outstretched hand. It is in
vain to knock, after the Master of the house has
risen up and shut the door. The soul, whose sad
state we are considering, was long called, invited,
counselled, and reproved but all without effect.
It was bent on sin, absorbed in pleasure, engrossed
with the world, satisfied with sense, and regardless
of all the claims of God and eternity. Now it
receives its reward. And who will dare to say
that it is unjust or inappropriate ? He reaps what
he sowed. Is it wrong in God to refuse his call,
when he refused God's ? Is it wrong in God to
pay no attention to his outstretched arms appealing
for help, when he paid no attention to God's liand

SIN SUITABLY PUNISHED.

133

1. He

me! I
The
I have
Jected
ever !'
even
Those

ime —
none
the

Ivice,

come
and

s call

is in

i has

i sad

ited,

feet.

ssed

less

V it

say

liat

all,
to

ing

outstretched to save him ? Is it unjust in God to
despise his ti'ouble, when he so long despised God*s
counsel. Is it unjust in God to deride his anguish,
when he so often derided God*s warnings and re-
proofs? He is paid back in his own coin. And
if any assume the hardihood to find fault with this
proceeding, it can only be for a time, for if it
should ever be his case, his mouth would be stop-
ped, for conscience will say, " Amen !" to every
sentence of Jehovah, as undeniably just.

Let this be considered that when Jehovah inflicts
punishment, he does so on the principles of eternal
justice — but when he dispenses mercy, it is out of
pure sovereignty. He will have mercy on whom
he will have mercy. Be you pure, O sinner, that
when God offers you mercy, he is ready to bestow
it ; and when he withdraws that ofler, mercy is not
within your reach. You know not when it may
be withdrawn ; all you can safely count upon, is
the passing moment in which it is held out to you.
O then, then, is it offered now, now — let it not go
past ; seize it, it may never return. Now is the
accepted time — now the day of salvation. Leader,
are you reconciled to God ? If not, let me speak
plainly to you. God has often called to you, and
you have refused ; he has long held out his hand,
and you have given no heed ; he has often advised
you and you have despised it ; he has often re-
proved you, and you have not received it — now,

".r 'in—'r- vyyii-

'i' J

134

URGENT APPEALS.

what have you any 7'ight to expect at his hand ?
Do you venture to claim an answer to your prayer,
or to look for aid in the hour of danger ? Beware.
It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the
living God. Remember that instead of averting
the terrors of wrath from him who slighted mercy,
God himself will pour down those terrors on the
head of the sinner. There is a day in which He
will show no mercy. Perhaps, you are now
reaching the limits of your time of grace, the last
day of God*s forbearance towards you may >»ave
now come. For your life, then, hear this last call
— ^rise and go to the throve of mercy — ^prostrate
yourself there a humble supplicant, a mourning
penitent — and the God of mercy will pity you,
and you shall not die.

■' i

i-^-

» ). ■ / t

hand?
prayer,
'eware.
of the
v^erting
mercy,
on the
ichHe
e now
he last
y have
i«t call
ostrate
liming
you,

■ * V:

CHAPTER VI.

kMs last Inbitdion.

" And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come I And let him that heareth,
eay, Come t And let him that is athirst, come : And who*
soever will let him take the water of life freely."
Revel, xxii ch. 17 v.

A peculiar importance and solemnity often
appertain to the last efforts to save what is in
imminent danger of irrevocable destruction. A
few illustrations may present the idea with vivid-
ness and force to the mind of the reader ; and fix
the lesson which it is intended to convey all the
more permanently.

Let us imagine ourselves in the room where
some beloved one is lying at the point of death.
Around are assembled the children, relatives,
or friends, of the sufferer. Every eye is moistened
with tears, and every heart pierced with anguish.
The disease has taken a turn, and the physician
is sent for, it may be for the last time. With
what anxiety is his coming awaited? How
eagerly is every word uttered by him listened
to, and how keenly is his look scrutinized.

•li' ■*' ' ''M ".'•iiP^I'''^''''

*I'S

136

URGENT APPEALS.

•I

- ;-

The danger is not concealed. An emergency
has come. One more effort may be tried, and
if it fail, death ensues. Hopefully and anxiously
is every direction observed. The last remedy
is applied. The iccue is awaited with scarcely
a whisper. How important are those moments
— how solemn the whole scene ! Should the
remedy succeed, one is restored who, it may
L * *he stay, the light, and the joy of a family
circ Time is given for repentance, if not be-
fore experienced. Means of grace are once more
within reach. The good results of severe affliction
may be seen ; and suitable preparation for death,
yet to come in all its dread reality, obtained.
But should the last eflfort fail, how sad the scene !
The skies grow dark, and the showers of sorrow
descend in quick succession. Slow and sad and
solemn is every movement. An eye that spoke
kindness to many, is now closing for ever on all
held dear on earth ; and a hand lies motionless,
whose friendly grasp, and generous aid, will re-
joice no more. And if the soul is not prepared to
stand before its Judge, who can fully estimate the
value of this last effort to stay the immortal spirit,
if it were but a little, within the domain of mercy,
ere the irrevocable sentence be pronounced that
shall consign it to perdition ? Can we prize too
highly those moments, when an eteriiity of misery
or bliss depends upon them? On this one effort,

r>]

LAST EFFORTS.

137

hangs life or death with all its consequences for
time and eternity, and while it is being tried solem-
nity broods in silent awe, oscillating between hope
and fear, awaiting the result.

We change the scene. It is the hall of legisla-
tion. The representatives of a nation have as-
sembled to deliberate on matters of the gravest
moment. Long and fiery discussions have ensued.
The majority seem bent on the policy of aggressive
war. The enemy is by no means weak, nor are
his allies to be despised ; but self-confidence and
bold speaking have carried away the minds of
many. Before the motion is formally passed, a
statesman venerable in years, and distinguished
for sagacity, rises to address his countrymen.
His keen mental vision penetrates the future. The
heavy cost and bloody sacrifices of war lie spread
before him. He sees his country taxed until the
poor can scarcely obtain the necessaries of life ; and
the blighted homes and the fatherless children, and
the weeping widows clothing the land with sadness.
All this is reason enough to him to leave the sword
in its scabbard, if peace can be maintained "with
honor. But more, far more than this ie unveiled.
Rightly estimating the character of the foe, and
the forces of his auxiliaries, he sees the tide of
war roll back upon his own land, the revengeful
enemy take possession of their capital, tens of
thousands slaughtered, the liberty and independ-

i'-i

138

UBGENT APPEALS.

■;,•!■

ence of his country destroyed, and its population
reduced to slavery by the conqueror. Roused by
what he perceives to be the inevitable results of
such a war, he summons all his energies, and with
a clearness, a force, an eloquence and a pathos
never excelled in that hall, he throws his whole
soul into the contest, and strives by ono great final
effort to save his country from ruin. The impoi*t-
ance of the hour fills him ; and the extraordinary
energy developed throws solemnity on all.

Again, the scene is changed. It is the Niagara
river, not far above the great Falls. A boat has
crossed to the Canadian shore, freighted with
pleasure-seekers. They have enjoyed a happy
day, and are nov on their return. Suddenly when
near the centre of the river, a violent gust of wind
sweeps down ftom above, and accompanying it a
ourrent of water rushing with great rapidity and
force. The moment it strikes the boat, she is
hurried from her course, and carried down the
stream. In vain do the rowers bend all their
strength to the oars ; they cannot stem the current ;
they cannot escape from its range. In their des-
perate efforts, their oars are broken, and now they
are wholly in the power of the stream, and death
in all its terror appears inevitable. Pallid and
nerveless from fear, they are scarcely able to shout
for relief. But their perilous condition is seen
from the shore, and crowds rush down to their

LAST EFFORTS.

139

rescue. A small boat is launched, and moves out
rapidly to the edge of the torrent, but dare venture
no farther. She must return. Every moment is
precious. Down the boat is sweeping, more and
more rapidly every minute. Another boat shoots
out to their help ; but in vain, she too must return
and narrowly escapes their peril. One more effort
can be made, and if this fail, over the Falls they
must go, for escape is impossible. A larger, and
more ably manned boat is now launched, and she
carries a rope which may be thrown from the edge
of the current to the boat that is being carried
down. With what breathless anxiety is this move-
ment watched. Nearer and nearer the boat ven-
tures to the dreaded stream, and drops down to
keep pace with the imperilled crew. And now
they are abreast — and now the rope is thrown.
See I it is caught by one in the boat : it is fasten-
ed : there is hope. And now comes the struggle,
— shall they be able to draw the boat out of the
current, or will they be drawn in and perish also ?
O the terrible suspense I Every spectator is silent
— solemnity rests on all. It is now or never.
Every arm is strained—every oar is plied. Lo !
the stress has come — they hold their own — ^they
move the boat — ^they are succeeding — ^well done !
they are safe I To characterize this effort is need-
less — it speaks for itself.
The scripture under consideration is a last effort

'ill

140

URGENT APPEALS.

i'l

to save . The danger is imminent, the destruction
awful and eternal. God*s eye pities — ^he resolves
to save. In carrying out his purpose, he, at sun-
dry times and in divers manners, spake to the
children of men, pointing out the only way of es-
cape, and graciously offering his help. But at a
later period to testify more strongly his love, he
spoke by his Son, his only begotten and well-belov-
ed, commanding all men to look to Him as then*
only Saviour. The Son fulfilled his commission on
earth with fidelity and delight ; and even after he
ascended to his throne in the heavens, he continued
to issue his free invitations to pardon and salva-
tion through his apostles. This is his last invita-
tion. How important I How solenm I Never
more shall he speak in mercy to the inhabitants of
earth. When he comes again, he will speak in
judgment, and award to each his place. If this is
accepted, the soul of the sinner is rescued from
eternal flames ; if this is rejected, no further call
from heaven is heard, the sinner has made his
choice, and deserves what he shall receive, a double
condemnation. O unconverted reader, many have
heard this last call, and have been saved, shall not
you? Here observe.

'i *■

I. TO WHAT MEN ABE INVITED.

To a free participation in the water of life . "And
whosoever will let him take the water of life

I '

WATER OF LIFE.

141

ruction
esolves
at sun-
to the
' of es-
ut at a
ove, he
-belov-
is theu*
sion on
f ter he
itinued
salva-
invita-
Never
ants of
>eak in
this is
I from
er call
de his
iouble
j^have
all not

"And
f life

freely." It is life, under the emblem of water,
which is offered. This emblem is, all things con-
sidered, the most suitable that could be employed.
We know that water is indispensable to the main-
tenance of existence on earth. It is one of the
main things demanding consideration in selecting
a place for a dwelling, in encamping an army, in
equipping for a voyage. Behold Israel in the
wilderness. Their cry is, "Give us water that we
may drink I" And again, " the people chode with
Moses and spake saying — would God that we had
died when our brethren died before the Lord ; and
why have ye brought up the congregation of the
Lord into this wilderness, that we and our cattle
should die there ? And wherefore have ye made
us to come up out of Egypt to bring us in unto
this evil place . . . neither is there any water to
drink." The distress occasioned by prolonged
thirst is extreme.

Take a modern illustration . A vessel has found-
ered in mid ocean, within the tropics, and, so
suddenly, that the crew have scarcely time to save
their lives by leaping into the long boat, and for
hastily snatching any supplies that were at hand.
They soon discover their short supply of water,
and they feel as if the very scarcity increased their
desire for it. The supply is soon exhausted ; and
they look with dismay on each other. For a day
or two the craving is moderate and may be con-

142

UBOENT APPEALS.

trolled. But after that, who can describe the
restless, intolerable agony. They scan the horizon
intently for some sail — they fix their eyes on
heaven as if imploring a drop of rain to lessen
their burning thirst — ^they would fain swallow the
water around, but sad experience has taught them
that it will only increase their distress. Death will
do its work if relief is not speedily brought.

And what is the cry of this thirsting, dying world ?
Is it not for water — ^the water of life. As the cry
of the thirsty crew was for water, water I so the
cry of millions is, life, life ! The struggle is for
life. The toil, the race, the fight, the slavery is
for life. Other sounds are heard, but as the hoarse
moan of the mighty ocean rises far above the pat-
tering of the rain-drops, so the universal cry of a
dying world for life is heard swelling high above
every other sound.

In response to this wail of distress the God of
mercy issues a general proclamation, inviting all
who will to come to the fountain of life which he
has provided and now uncovers for their salvation.
Let me in pressing this invitation on your con-
sideration, notice some of the peculiarities of this
life-giving fountain. Its grand property is its
power to impart life to all who taste it. No man
can drink of this water without feeling the grasp
of death on his spirit relaxed, the warm current
of health established, and the glow of a glorious

WATER OF LIFE.

143

immortality restored. But of its distinguishing
peculiarities I may select three.

First, it is pure. The river which was revealed
to John, as flowing from the throne of God and
the Lamb, through the New Jerusalem, was clear
as crystal. This fountain has its rise in the same
place, and is in all respects similar, — " the pure
river of water of life " being but an enlargement
of the stream which has reached this earth, and
which makes glad the church of God in its journey
homeward. Every earthly fountain has its sedi-
ment ; some their gross impurity ; and others their
deadly poison. But in this living water there is
no intermixture — not the smallest particle can be
discovered by the most refined spiritual chemistry.
Hence so far as this water is drunk, unalloyed life
is enjoyed, and the desire of all who have tasted
it, is to partake of it alone. On earth life has to
struggle with death, and bliss is restricted by the
encroachments of sin. This living water over-
flowing the soul kills the roots of corruption ; the
trunks soon exhibit symptoms of decay ; the leaves
wither, the branches drop off; and eventually the
old, decayed stumps are seen no more. Its vital-
izing power invades the domains of death ; its
purifying influence encroaches upon impurity. It
will suffer neither death nor sin to exist where it
is received. Its daily use will wash out the last
dregs of impurity, and take away the very seeds

t i

144

URGENT APPEALS.

■!

•\'

of death. This is the drink for sin-stained mortals.
They cannot indulge in this to excess. There is
nothing to intoxicate — nothing to corrupt. But
with its first draught the eyes are opened, and
with every subsequent participation bliss is imbib-
ed and sorrow disappears. Come, dying reader,
drink and you shall live. Come, although yet
young and but partially poisoned by the streams
of earth. Here is what you need, what your spirit
craves though you know it not. Life may not be
long with you. The line beyond which you are
not to go may lie far on this side of thirty. Come,
if you are old, this water can revive yor Iried up
spirits, and open before you an endu ^, ever-
blooming adolescence. Come, defiled mortal, this
water shall purify within, and then you shall be
clean indeed. Vile you may be, but this shall
make you pure as the angels before the throne of
God. Come, ye sorrowful in heart, here is some-
thing to cheer. Sin is your curse : this will take
it away. Death is your dread : this will destroy
him. Tears are your meat : this will wipe them
off for ever. Life pure, sin-expelling, death-de-
stroying is now before your eyes. Drink, and be
holy : drink, and live for ever.
I Second, it is satisfying* The streams of earth
are not so. However sweetened they may be, by
all that rank and wealth and luxury can bestow,
they have ever failed to satisfy all the cravings of

WATER OF LIFE.

145

^ome,

man's soul. But of this water, it may, in truth,
l)c said that he that drinks of it shall never thirst.
That is, it will quench all the deep longings of the
spirit which lie at the secret springs of action. It
is the cordial that penetrates all the diseased
mechanism of the soul, and nistores what was
paralized and defective. It is the specific of a di-
vine physician for a sin-diseased creature. Where
has it proved a failure ? Millions have tested it ;
but as yet not one has come forward to dispute,
from experience, its satisfying qualities. What
does the soul of man long for, which it cannot
impart? Does he seek stiongth? It infuses it.
The man who drinks it becomes strong in the Lord
and in the power of his might. He is a match
for the devil, and can successfully resist him.
He has the mastery over his former masters, his
sinful habits. He can now finnly refuse all the
pressing solicitations of his former companions to
join them in the haunts of vice. Is not this power ?
Does he seek peace of mind ? It has a wonderfully
soothing influence. As oil poured on the waters
breaks down the waves, so this water prevents the
billows of trouble from agitating the soul. Fears
are allayed. The fever of a troubled conscience
is cooled down. The irritating influences of sin
are neutralized. A lasting peace progresses as
the foundations of trouble are undermined and
swept away by daily draughts from this fountain.

fjl

146

URGENT APPEALS.

'i:

hi '

We speak not of health. Spiritual strength and
spiritual peace are its offspring and attendants.
Does he seek joy ? As the thirsty traveller, after
a toilsome march under a burning sun, deems a cup
of cold water a ravishing luxury, more precious
than gold, so does the sin-parched sinner deem
this living water from heaven's fountain, a price-
less luxury. It is inspiriting. It is exhilirating.
Bright visions rise before the mind ; and the clouds
of sadness are dissipated as the mists of the morn-
ing. Before it lie opened the exhaustless treasures
of paradise. Tho glory and the beauty of that
land stretch far out before the enraptured vision ;
and what is all the tinsel glory of a court, of a
ball-room, or of a theatre compared with this ?

Sinner, would you be happy, yes gloriously
happy even on earth, try this water. It will make
you forget all your sorrows, and it will flood all
your soul with pure and satisfying bliss. Here is
strength for the oppressed of sin and the devil.
Here is peace for the troubled in spirit that know
no rest by day or night. Here is joy for the
mourning, the sad, and the lonely, whose day on
earth has been clouded, and whose hours of sun-
shine have been few and far between.

Third, it is never-f ailing , What it is to-day, it
shall be when countless ages have run their course.
It proceeds from a source that only fails when the
self-existing Jehovah cea^^es to be. How short-

WATER OF LITE.

147

th and
dants.
, after
pa cup
ecious
deem
price-
•ating.
clouds
morn-
asures
f that
ision ;
» of a

iously
make
odall
ere is
Jevil.
know
* the
lyon
sun<*

^y?it

irse.
i the
lort-

lived are all the joys and all the glories of earth ?
They dry up in an hour ; they fade like a leaf.
But here is something which is exempt from the
fate of the products of a sin-cursed earth ; it has
its origin in heaven, and is sustained from this ex-
terior and exalted source. It has supplied the
wants of many ; it shall continue to supply the
wants of more. The generations that have passed
away from earth have tasted its healing waters ;
and generations yet to come shall enjoy the same
blessed privilege in greater numbers. Its volume
has been small, as it glided from the temple of
God ; but it has increased as it rolled onward, and
as it was sought for by the children of men, and
it shall keep pace with the demand until the whole
redeemed church of the Lamb have tasted the
loving kindness of God. But wc contemplate not
only its diffusion in time, but its extension through
eternity. It will not only bless the willing and
obedient on earth but also bless the saved for ever
in heaven. And as the comforts of earth dimin-
ish, its consolations abound. When flesh and
heart faint and fail, it proves a strength and a joy
to the drooping spirit. And when death has closed
the eyes to the earthly channels in which it was
sought and found, the spirit finds itself walking
beside the same stream, enlarged to a river, and
proceeding directly from the throne of God. O
that river of life ! O that river of joy ! Every

'• 1

148

URGENT APPEALS.

drop is bliss most pure, most ravishing. To be
beside it for ever ! To see its mighty volume roll
on for ever I To have unrestrained access to.it
for ever I This is heaven indeed.

And now, reader, do not forget that this water
is offered most freely on earth. No money could
purchase it — no money is asked for it. It was
purchased for sinners. It is now offered to them as
a gift. Come, then, without money and without
price, and partake of the provision, the best pro-
vision of your heavenly Father. Do you say,
where is this living water, where shall I find it?
Do not be startled, do not be offended. It is
CHRIST. He is the fountain of life. He is the
living water. Do you say, you cannot understand
this ? Go and try. Ask of him this life-giving
water, and the first taste of it will make dark
things light. You shall know of this doctrine
y?iiether it be of God, or whether it is a vain
imagination of man. It can cost you little to
try. Do not condemn what you have not known,
and what you will not take the trouble to investi-
gate. You need this water, and must perish
without it. Now for once act the man. Put tnat
innate enmity against God beneath your feet, and
go to Christ and humbly and reverently ask this
priceless gift of living water. — It shall be yours.

I !

'o be

roll

to it

WHO ARE INVITED.

149

II. WHO ARE INVITED TO PARTAKE OF THIS

LIVING WATER.

The invitation is in the most general terms.
" Let him that is athirst come : and whosoever will,
let him take of the water of life freely." In sim-
ilar language the prophet Isaiah was instructed
to cry, many centuries before this, " Ho, every one
that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that
hath no money — come." The thirsty, the poor,
any one that pleases. Can invitation be more
general than this ? As was becoming, the thirsty
have the first offer — for who care for water like
the thirsty ? But that none may be debarred from
coming who have any desire to taste and try, the
offer is extended to all who choose to have it.

First, then, let the thirs^^^ know that they are
invited. But who are the tuiisjty ? All who crave
what this living water can supply. But what can
it supply ? All the wants of the sinful oul of n in.
"What are these wants ? They are numerous ; and
and are all associated with ideas of Satan, sin,
earth, death, judgment, hell, God, and Loaven.
Reader, does yom soul thirst for spiritual mercies ?
Perhaps under one of these terms you mnv '"ad
your case described.

Ye that groan under Satan's yoke, come I You
have been in bondage — ^you feel that bondage. It
is oppressive ; it is crushing. You would be free,

;1 \\

. j

»■■•;
'1 1

150

URGENT APPEALS.

tit

but have no power. You are filled with alarm,
and yet you cannot escape. The enemy has bound
you with fetters — ^your soul is bowed down — dis-
tress ana anguish have laid hold on you. Come
and try this living water. Christ shall say, * Be free,'
and your chains shall fall, Satan's power shall be
broken, and his yoke shall no more bend your soul
to the dust.

Ye that mourn the guilt and dominion of sin,
come ! You know that you have sinned. Iniqui-
ties compass you about : sins innumerable rise up
before you. You are startled and terrified at the
thought that for all these God shall bring you into
judgment. You feel that you have no valid excuse,
and sad experience has taught you that sin is too
strong for you. When you would rise up, it casts
you down — when you would be pure it casts you
back into the mire. What are you to do ? Guilt
is weighing you down. It is too heavy for you.
You cannot throw it off. And sin cleaves to you ;
you cannot cast it down as a rejected garment. It
is within, and you cannot take it out. Is there no
relief in this distressing perplexity. Poor, dis-
tracted sinner, there is. Come, taste this fountain.
Here, the guilty lose their burdens. Here, the
defiled lose all their stains.

Ye that are dissatisfied with earth, come I It
has not met your expectations. You looked for
much, and you obtained but little. Your day of

WHO ABE INVITED.

151

buoyant hope from earth has passed. Its dreams
have not been realized. And what you have
enjoyed has been fleeting as the summer's breeze,
You have seen friends and relatives pass away,
and gloomy shadows stretch over dwellings once
filled with light and joy, and you have sighed at
the desolations of earth, and you have longed for
something more durable, something more satisfy-
ing than earth. And to this must be added the
injustice, the ingratitude, the unfaithfulness you
have experienced from man. You have been ready
to exclaim — O earth, what hast thou here that I
should desire to live ! You would not live alway,
your spirit would fly away and be at rest. Come,
then, and taste this soul-satisfying water. Drink,
and you shall never more frequent the broken
cisterns of earth as the sources of your joy : your
soul shall know full satisfaction for ever.

Ye that are alarmed at the prospect of death,
come ! You have seen others die ; you have joined in
the solemn procession that marched to the resting-
place of the dead ; you have read there the names
of one and another whom you knew among the
living, but who are now silent and alone and
forgotten in the darkness of the grave. You have
felt that you too must die, and the thought sent a
chilling, trembling sensation over your frame.
You did not wish to die. You were attached to
many on earth; and you were hoping to enjoy

'*f^

■k

^'.

H'.

152

URGENT APPEALS.

much of life yet. But still the thought would
intrude, — ^you must die ; and you may die soon,
and why not look the matter in the face, and pre-
pare to take your turn like a man. That thought
you could not cherish ; oh I it was so gloomy ; it was
so unpleasant. But yet it often still returns ; and
it always brings uneasiness, as you think it to be
a fore Warner of an early death. Dying fellow
sinner, death is coming — it must come — and will
not tarry. You and I must go at the call of this
officer of the Almighty. But we may meet him
with joy, and with expressions of delight welcome
his approach. Come, drink this life-giving water,
and you shall never feel the bitterness of death.
It will make death to you a narrow stream, through
which you can safely wade ; and it will reveal to
you a land of glory on the other side to which you
will gladly hasten.

Ye that dread a judgment day, come I The
great judgment is before you. Your life will be
disclosed. Every secret thing will be brought to
light. No room then for excuses; no room for
evasions. No allowance for regrets ; no door for
repentance. Life as it was; deeds as they are
shall then be revealed. Would you dread the un-
covering of your sins before heaven, earth and
hell? Would you fear the frown of your Judge
on that eventful day? Would you tremble at the
doom which your misspent life merits ? O come

't)

WHO ARE INVITED.

153

to this purifying stream. All who drink of it are
pardoned ; a white stone is given to them and on
it a name which they alone can read ; they are
dressed in robes of righteousness, and their place
is on the right of the Judge, the place of the justi-
fied. The judgment will have no terrors for you
— it is the day of your complete redemption.
Drink now, and your path is henceforth to honor.

Ye that are in anguish lest you should be cast
into hell, come I You fear the anger of a just
and holy God, and well you may. You know that
you have sinned and that he has you in his power
to destroy you if he please. He has declared that
the wicked shall be turned into hell, and you can
say nothing if he should cast you into that burning
lake. Why may he not do it now, even this very
hour? His mercy waits, his patience lasts.
Come, then, now to this fountain of mercy. There
is no wrath for those who drink this water. O
shall it keep you from hell, and will you not drink
it. Taste, and flee from the coming wrath, and
that wrath shall not overtake you.

Ye that sigh for the presence of God, come !
You have felt that your life consists in the favor
of God. As the heart pants for the water brooks,
so pant ye for the coming of God to your souls.
You are in a dry and thirsty land without him.
Nothing afibrds you comfort in his absence. He
is your light, your hope, your joy, your comfort.

154

URGENT APPEALS.

] *

1 1

'fj

How can you be at rest when he is away. You
are indeed thirsty, come, then, O come, for the well
is opened for you. Its living streams flow freely
by, and you are welcome. In Christ you will see
the face of God. It has no frown for you. He
will lift on you the light of his countenance, and
your sorrows shall disappear as the dew of the
morning before the rising sun.

Ye that long for heaven, come I You would be
away from this troubled world, and be at rest with
the saints abovo. Your thoughts are often on that
better land, and you wander down in imagination
to the shore, and with the telescope of faith you
behold walking in white your kindred who have
gone before ; and their songs of joy seem to be waft-
ed across the separating stream, and increase the
longing of your soul to join them. Come then,
and come often, to this living water. It will give
you all of heaven that can be enjoyed on earth.
O sinner, you sometimes think that heaven would
be very grand and very good if only here, — come
and taste the joys of heaven on earth at this flow-
ing fountain. If there is the faintest breathing
for that happy land, O come and know the bliss of
it while walking in the shadows of this sin-smitten
world.

But if some shrink from classing themselves
among the thirsty, let them know that still they
may be included among the invited. The words

WHO ARE INVITED.

155

of Heaven's last invitation are — "and whosoever
will let him take the water of life freely." If any
man refuses this water, it will not be forced upon
him; but if he will, he may take it. Nothing
could be more generous than this. When the
great of earth invite to a rich entertainment, their
practice is to call the noble, the wealthy, the learn-
ed, the distinguished, and not to make such an
indiscriminate invitation as this. But our merciful
and bountiful heavenly Father is not like his fallen
creature, man. This is His bounty. Who now shall
deny himself or deprive himself of this inestimable
blessing? If he die, shall he blame God for his
death ? If he descend to where no drop of water
shall ever be tasted, even in the flames of hell,
shall he have excuse for his woes ? — shall he have
any mitigation of his sufferings by reason of in-
ability to avoid these tortures ? Alas ! that poor
consolation will not be his. Heaven now invites
him, — if he has any wish or will to live in glory
for ever, — ^to come to this fountain of life. The
invitation is in his hands ; the voice of God sounds
in his ears ; a choice must be made ; accept or re-
fuse are the terms before him ; one must be taken
and the other left — no evasion of choice ; no neu-
trality ; hesitation itself is condemned.

Reader, are not you invited? Come, then, and
be saved, if others will not. Don't put away from
you a blessing such as this. Don't deny yourself

156

URGENT APPEALS.

the advantages of ita possession for even an hour.
Go now to Christ, and crave this oflfered mercy,
and you shall kno^'^ that he is faithful to his
promise.

III. WHO BRING THE INVITATION.

I I

(

Three parties cry to the sinner, ' Come ;' the Spirit
and the Bride, and he who has heard their call.
Every agency fitted to spread the precious tidings
is employed. The Spirit holds the first place. He
has seen the arid waste of earth. He has marked
in pity the parched and withered soul of man.
And he has been a party to the opening of this
fountain in the desert, to save the souls of the
perishing from all the horrors of the second death.
Shall his call be despised ? He it is who waters
creation, and brings out all its beauties. He
seeks now to restore the lost life and health and
beauty of man. Gently and softly his words drop
into the soul. He seeks to allure and persuade —
not to entice and deceive. His voice is one of
love and kindness . No harshness , no severity now
proceeds from him. He would win back the lost
confidence of man. He would kindle anew the
love of the creature to his Maker. And this by
proofs of mercy and of love which amaze the en-
lightened soul. He arouses attention to spiritual
things by the dealings of his providence. Death

WHO BRING THE INVITATION.

157

hour.

and eternity arc forced upon the consideration of
those formerly careless. He calls conscience from
his slumber, and sends him to his watclitower to
give warning as directed. The eyes of the sinner
are now opened to his guilt and destitution and
danger. Then the Spirit comes with the sweet
tidings of hope and salvation. There is a well in
the wilderness, despair must not be entertained ;
that well is for such as he ; why should he die ?
The voice still whispers within, — Go and try?
Have you tried? Try again. The well is not far
off, seek and ye shall find. There is a drawing, an
increased craving for this water, a restless anxiety
to taste it, an urgency to go forward, the very
words of prayer are suggested — and an unseen
One in tones of sweetest kindness, seems constantly
to say — ' Come.* Obey that voice. It is the voice
of God. You see not yet the well, but go on and
you shall see it. Faith leads right to it. Believe
the word, and go, and to your enraptured soul the
welling up of that living fountain shall be revealed.
Do you not hear that voice now ? It says, * Come'
Again in solemn stillness, it says, *Come.' Rise
and go. Fear not ; to Christ you go ; to him you
speak. There can be no deception. Believe and
ask, — ^you shall receive.

The Bride, the church, believers bound in a
covenant of love to their husband and head, Christ,
join in this call, 'Come.* They, indeed, are specially

158

URGENT APPEALS.

entrusted with the spreading of this invitation.
When they cease to cry to sinners, they disregard
the command of their King. Through them the
world is to hear of the fulness of grace treasured
up in Christ for the sons of Adam. While a
thirsty sinner roams this weary wilderness, and
while deluded men resort to broken cisterns for
the wants of their dying souls, the church must
lift up her voice loudly and jmtiently , and call them
to the stream of life flowing from the smitten rock.
She has called, and r le will call, and while the
Spirit of her King iu • Tith her, she will rejoice to
call, and not in vuin, to her famishing fellow
creatures. Who knows better than she their
wants? Were they not her own? Have her
sympathies for others been dried up by her faith in
Christ? The very reverse is true. Her heart is
enlarged. She is pained for the woes of her kin-
dred. She is ready to lay down her life for their
salvation. Say not, O say not, she is unwilling
to say, * Come.' She has tasted that the Lord is
gracious indeed, and she is willing to share with
others her dearest joys. All the promises to her
were verified, and she may go to all the world and
say, trust him as I have done and find the truth of
what I affirm. Experience is strong evidence.
Send the enriched to sound the praises of the
benefactor. Let the liberated proclaim the virtues
of the redeemer. And commission the cured to

WHO BRING THE INVITATION.

159

recommend the skill of the physician. She fears
no reduction of her comforts by the numbers that
may accept her invitation. The ocean may be
drained but not the fountain from which she drinks.
Let them come in crowds — let them come in
myriads — the stream is inexhaustible. All are
invited — why not come ?

But that the glad tidings may have the fullest
publicity, he who has heard, or does now hear, is
enjoined to say — ' Come V

"Salvation, O Salvation!

The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation

Has learned Messiah's name.
Waft, waft ye winds the story.

And you, ye waters roll.
Till like a sea of glory,

It spreads from pole to pole."

Will not the traveller in the desert, who has
been separated from his companions in search of
water, shout to his fellows when he has espied the
long desired fountain ? — and will not he who is
nearest to him catch the joyful sound and repeat
it with gladsome emphasis to his more distant
friends ? No argument is needed to enforce this
duty. It is the outburst of nature . Let the sound
be apprehended, let its full import be known, and,
selfishness excluded, who would not spread it?

fli

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160

URGENT APPEALS.

Who would refuse to communicate to his fellows
tidings f^*' infinite value to them and to him, when
their participation in the mercies revealed would
not lessen his share but increase his happiness in
the enjoyment of it? Tlie very spirit of Chris-
tianity is an inviting, proclaiming spirit. It
receives to diffuse as woU as to enjoy, and to enjoy
in diffusing. The hearer, while he called, was to
lead the way. It was not, ' Go !' — but ' Come !'
The tidings were precious to himself and he would
go whether others followed or not. But his know-
ledge of their wants as well as his own, prompts
him to take them with him if he can. If a large
building is in flames in its lower stories, and in its
upper are many persons vainly striving to find
some door of escape, and if one of these hear a
cry from the street directing where to go, will he
not shout it to the rest as well as rush to find the
way himself? Thus should the hearer of the gospel
do. His life and the life of many othei*s is at
stake. Beneath them the flames of hell are burn-
ing fiercely. Has he seen his danger, has he
heai*d the welcome sound of a Saviour — the way
of escape — and shall he not cry aloud to others
that they also may hear and flee from approaching
wrath ? O that men saw their danger ! O that
they felt their need of Christ I Then would they
flee to him as their only refuge. Like Hagar in
the wilderness, they will perish unless the Loi*d

«*i

WHO BRING THE INVITATION.

IGl

open their eyes to the fountain of life flowing freely
beside them. How sad to perish so near to de-
liverance ! To be hurled down and crushed by the
storm, while a refuge is within reach ! To die of
thirst, while a pure fountain pours forth its living
waters at a few yards distance ! O sinners hear
now Heaven's last call, or you die. Come, and say
to others, * Come !' Bring them with you. There
is enough for all. The river of life will supply all
your wants. You are welcome — come.

' .;.

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li-

CHAPTER VII.

§fiii meets t^e retitrning Sinner.

" Therefore say thow unto them — Thus saith the Lord of hosts ;

Turn yc unto me saith the Lord of host^, and 1 will turn

unto you, saith the Lord of hosts."

Zkcii. 1 CH. 3 V.

i»«

It is a deplorable fact that the unrogenerate
man walks not only apart from God but away
from him. Born with a heart estranged from God,
the developement of his faculties has developed
this estrangement, so that his progress through
life is a progressive separation from God. The
judgment betrayed by ignorance, and inclination
confirmed by habit, both tend in the same direction.
The end of such a course cannot be doubtful.
Every step from God is a step from light, purity,
peace and life. Hence, the course being short, the
unrenewed man is hourly approaching a limit be-
yond which darkness and death hold eternal sway.
Now God does not delight in the death of the
sinner. Therefore he has no pleasure in that sin-
ful departure from him which results in death.
So far from this, he sincerely and earnestly desires

MARVELLOUS CONDESCENSION.

163

man's salvation, and therefore seeks his return as
the only means to that end. In earrying out this
purpose of mercy, he employs as heralds of his
will, not the seraphim and cherubim that wait
around his throne, but men of the lost race, in-
ferior, fallen spirits confined to tabernacles of clay.
"We have," — said an apostle, — "this treasure in
earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power
may be of God, and not of us." These ambassa-
dors are all taught of God. They have been en-
lightened by his Holy Spirit to understand and
appreciate his plan of salvation, and their hearts
have been brought into sympathy with his designs
of love and mercy towards their lost fellow crea-
tures. Thus qualified the}^ never fail to be efiicient,
whatever measure of success may attend their
mission. To such an one the divine command
came — * Say thou unto them — Turn ye unto me and
I will turn unto you saitli the Lord of hosts ?'

Reader, examine these words. Weigh their
evident in poi*t. Reflect on the great disparity
between him who is addressing and them who are
addressed, and on the relationship in wliich they
stand, at this time, to one another; and the con-
viction must be forced upon you that this message
places the honorable character of Jehovah in a
glorious light. They are weak, erring, offending ;
can it be considered severe on his part, or in any
way unbecoming, to allow them to proceed, and

iUli i

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164

URGENT APPEALS.

i )

; S

reap the result of their own deliberate choice ? He
would be justified in doing much more. Their
weakness is no extenuation of their guilt ; and
cannot excuse them from receiving merited punish-
ment. Their folly is their own, — chosen, loved,
persevered in ; in which they have set themselves
up as wiser than God, and consequently rejected
his most friendly advice. Would there be any
injustice in punishing them for the pride, obstinacy
and rebellion which they have vshown in pursuing
such a course? They have persistently offended
him by transgressing his express, commands.
Would there be any impropriety in measuring out
to them their due reward? But instead of crush-
ing them in their weakness, confounding them in
their folly, or pouring out the terrors of his justice
for their offences, he kindly calls them to return
to him, that peace and friendship maybe establish-
ed. How magnanimous ! How honorable ! Is
this the manner of men ? Is this their treatment
of their foes ? Do not the strong leave the weak
to sue for peace ? Do not the mighty continue their
oppression of the feeble, until the latter cry out
in their despair, for mercy ? Is the folly of an
enemy rectified by the voluntary advice of his op-
ponent? Does he not rejoice to see his mistake,
and rather accelerates than impedes his course to
ruin? And is not the spirit of revenge rampant
iu the fallen spirit of man ? Will he bear ofiences

*!l*

MARVELLOUS CONDESCENSION.

165

? He
Their
; and

unish-
oved,

selves
ected
any

;inacy

without retaliation ? And how long will he return
good for evil, when the offender is a sul)ject and
he a ruler, and when the kindness is perverted into
increased occasions for sin ? Well may we exclaim
— "Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth
iniquity and passeth by the transgression of the
remnant of his heritage? — he retaineth not his
anger for ever because he delighteth in mercy !"

But the call stands not alone. To it is added a
gracious promise — "I will turn unto you." This
discloses the benign character of God. None
imderstand as well as he the value of his presence
to an immortal soul. None can comprehend as he
does the miseries to which a departure from him
inevitably leads. He sees what the sinner does
not; that he is momentarily approaching the
regions of despair within which no voice is heard
but that of wailing — that his course is right out to
the open gulf of perdition, and that already the
ice is bending beneath his feet, and here and there,
on both sides, the broken places where transgres-
sors, such as he, fell through and sank to rise no
more. He pities him, warns him of his diiii^cT,
and calls loudly to him to return. But this is not
all, he will go to meet him. His return is so gra-
tifying that the depths of Jehovah's benignity are
moved, and he waits not until the poor outcast has
found his way back, but with every returning step
on the sinner's part, advances to meet him, until

?^1

hi.

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166

URGENT APPEALS.

as yet, it may be, a great way off from settled
peace and rest he receives and embraces him, and
in the exercise of infinite love, wipes out, at once
and for ever, from the book of his remembrance,
all his misdeeds. O unconverted reader! could
anything more hopeful be presented to you ? Can
you look for anything more encouraging? God
will return to you, as you return to him. God
will abide with you, while you adhere to him.
God will satisfy your soul for time and eternity,
when you make him your chief satisfaction. It is
he who now speaks, and his voice is one of love,
of kindness, of pity. Will you not hearken and
allow it to peiNiiirate your inmost soul, that awaken-
ing the dormant feelings of your too long impen-
itent heart, it may meet with this prompt response
from you — ' It is the voice of my Father and my
God, I will arise and return at onceT

We must open up this heart-reaching subject :
its most minute details are full of interest to the
intelligent soul desirous of salvation.

I. THE CALL OF THE LORD OF HOSTS.

^^Turn ye unto me, saith the Lord of hosts."
The call is to those not now with God, to those
turned away from him, and going farther from him
— ^to sinners. They have been estranged in heart
from God, then in life and conversation. The

THE CALL.

167

fruits of that departure have been partly devel-
oped, and will soon be matured. These conse-
quences God would prevent. Hence the call.
How are thej' to comply with it? It is not a
physical turning, it is not a transportation from
one place to another. It is a change of mind and
with it, its natural result, a change of conduct.
What deflections or aberrations from the path of
light, rectitude, and puritj^ has the mind under-
gone? It has left the path of light, and in its
darkness it has entertained incorrect and unworthy
notions of God. It has regarded God as untruth-
ful, and hence unworthy of credit. The idea is
cherished that he threatens what he has no intention
to execute — and promises what he has no purpose
to bestow. He is regarded as so indifferent to the
wishes and wants of his creatures, that in the mere
exercise of his sovereign pleasure, without any
other consideration, they are indiscriminately
given over to destruction or torture — that as having
no interest in, no sympathy, no parental solicitude
for the creatures to whom he has given being, he
is not entitled to their confidence. Others, in their
deeper darkness, construing his manifest opposition
to sin into a natural unfriendliness to the work of
his hands, have arrived at the conclusion that
their own pleasure is their highest law. If such
notions of the supreme God have prevailed, it is
no matter of wonder that the principles of morality,

'1;'

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168

URGENT APPEALS.

which arc but the emanations of the divine charac-
ter, and the principles by which he governs his
rational creation, should be misunderstood and
misrepresented. Evil is conceived to be good,
and good is reckoned evil. Instead of rejoicing
in the paths of love, truth, justice, and benevo-
lence, the mind is now found frequenting the ways
of hatred, malice, envy, jealousy, revenge, pride,
lying, covetousness, deceit, dishonesty, and such
like. These are the ways of the world ; they are
not the ways of God, and they mark how widely
man has separated from his Maker. In one or
other of these paths of error every child of earth
is found wandering, and no mere persuasion of
man will constrain any one of them to walk in the
ways of rectitude. Such departures from integrity
leave their stains. Every aberration leaves its
soar — ^the spirit is distorted and defiled, every
repetition deepens the wound and increases the
corruption, till the wandering spirit wears the
aspect of dejection, perversion, and impurity. It
has lost all desire for holiness , and delights in sin
and is clothed with iniquity.

From these ruinous errors God would recall
sinners. ' Turn ye unto me,* saith he. But how
will they, entertaining such notions of him, return
to him? He will not force them back — he will
not drag them as captives, if they return it must
be of their own choice. He would have them

* fl

THE CALL.

109

abandon their errors, by convincing them that they
are such. Let them examine them — let them
bring them out to the light of reason. Is it reason
that the one living and true God should lie unto
his creatures ? What object could he have in de-
ceiving them either by promises or threatenings ?
He is not depending on them. He stands in no
dread of them. They cannot add anything to his
fullness or sufficiency. There is no necessity for
lying on his part ; and we can conceive of no good
resulting from it, either to himself or his creatures.
Is it reasonable then to suppose that he should lie
for the mere sake of lying, or in utter recklessness ?
There is no reason to suppose such a thing, there
is every reason for the contrary ; and any man who
believes that God would lie on these grounds,
would with more consistency believe that there is
no God. It is an absolute and fundamental truth
that God cannot lie, and of course has never lied.
Let poor, erring man therefore take God at his
word. Let him give implicit credit to every
utterance from heaven.

Is it reasonable to suppose that God, who has
given such proofs of his wisdom and goodness, in
the formation of his creatures, and in the provision
for their wants, should cast off the highest of his
creatures, his rational creatures, without cause or
consideration ? — that he should feel no interest in
his offspring, no sympathy in theu* suffering, no

■(

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170

URGENT APPEALS .

;

joy in their happiness ? — that he should take clelight
in their agonies or interminable sufferings. It
cannot be. Such a heartless, cruel, tyrannical
nature could never have given being to anything
good, or established such arrangements as directly
tend to happiness. Away with such unworthy
thoughts of God ! God loves his creatures. IIo
made them good, and capable of happiness,
and delights in seeing them happy. His justice
requires the punishment of sin, and this necessitates
the removal of the iner from his presence, but
in this act of severity he has not ceased to bo good
— an indifference to sin would be the destruction
of all happiness.

As correct notions of God lie at the foundation
of a return to him, so a true discrimination be-
tween good and evil is the first step to a return
from sin. The benighted soul has followed evil
as if it were good , how shall he be convinced of
its true character ? It is clear that so long as he
conceives evil to be good, he will not abandon it.
Let him reflect. Let him examine. Can there be
good in deceit, dishonesty, lying, envy and the
kindred propensities of the human heart ? If they
have no element of good in them, can their in-
dulgence or practice have any other effect than evil ?
The voice of conscience and the lessons of experi-
ence give no doubtful answer. They universally
proclaim , — ^the end of these things is death. Then ,

THE CALL.

171

why should a mun pierce his own soul with the
sting of remorse? Why hesitate to cast the
poisonous serpent from his bosom? Why carry
for one moment longer the coal that is burning its
way to his very vitals ? If the traveller has wan-
dered to the verge of the precipice, should he not
now, at last, hear the friendly voice that recalls him
from destruction?

And is tlie garment of impurity so honourable
that a man should refuse to cast it aside, and
accept the robe of holiness? Are the stains and
scars of moral pollution so desirable that every
friendly effort to remove them should be rejected?
Is the leprosy of sin so pleasing, agreeable and
attractive that the proffered aid of a never-failing
physician should be despised ?

O reader if thou art still a sinner wandering
away from thy Maker, hear his call today — " Turn
unto me." Open tliine eyes and see how thou hast
been beguiled by the great deceiver. Hast thou
thought thy Maker false, cold, cruel, hostile to his
own creatures ? Away with such false and God-
dishonoring thoughts. Thy Maker is true, kind,
friendly to all who will confide in him, to all who
will obey him. He is light, and in him is no dark-
ness. He is love, and in him is no hatred to any-
thing that should be loved. Hast thou called right,
wrong, and wrong, right? Open thine eyes — can
these bitter fruits in thine own experience come

172

URGENT APPEALS.

from a good tree? Never I Thou art deceived.
Thou hast believed a lie. God calls thee to aban-
don these false notions — to change thy mind — and
call things by their proper names. God is truth ;
turn to him, and he shall shew thee the path from
which thou hast strayed, and he will cause thee to
walk therein. Thou art defiled — disgraced — what
canst thou do ? As a leprous wretch thou art an
outcast from the holy God, and there is no place
for thee within the Holy City. But lo ! a fountain
for thee, poor sinner ! Sec ! it is near. Ah amaz-
ing! it is the Redeemer's blood. Turn to it —
wash, and thou shalt be clean.

But the erring has not been confined to the
heart. Indeed, it could not be. It has been pro-
duced in the life, and by continuous practice has
formed the character of the soul. The great be-
guiler has succeeded ; his baits have been seized
— ^his suggestions adopted, and the doings of man
are in direct opposition to the will of God. The
path of life is left, when lawful things are pursued
to an unlawful extent. This is the sin of enlight-
ened Christianized communities. Business is fol-
lowed so closely as to leave little or no time for
the enlightenment of the mind, or the renovation
of the soul. The relationships of life are allowed
to exact and absorb so much time and attention,
that a renewed relationship with the eternal Father,
and the holy family of heaven is overlooked and

THE CALL.

173

neglected. Amusements or recreations of an ex-
clusively vrtin or worldly nature fill the minds of
many, specially the young of families in easy cir-
cumstances, to the destruction of all ability or
desire for pleasures of a higher and holier charac-
ter. But the wide divergence from God is most
clearly marked, when men sin with a high hand —
acting in direct opposition to his express command.
Alas ! for earth, no habited spot of it is free from
these glaring proofs of hostility to heaven. Every-
where sin openly lifts its head, and proclaims war
against God. Every command laid down for
man's guidance is proudly and recklessly trans-
gressed. Those which specially respect God's
honor arc no more regarded than those which con-
cern man's welfare. Considerations of personal
safety more frequently deter from a commission
of the latter than of the former ; man, in his dark-
ness, being more afraid of the wrath of his fellow-
creature than of his almighty Creator. No higher
proof of this lamentable separation need be looked
for, than the fact that man's heart is unmoved by
any amount of dishonor done to God ; and in no
degree interested in any efforts which aim to please
him.

Of course, they who live away from God, and
have no fellowship with him, seek no enjoyment
in him. They turn their anxious eyes to the
creature alone. A poor sort of enjoyment they

}

IMPPnOHIil

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174

URGENT APPEALS.

often have. It is always fleeting, never lasting,
often satiating and as often perishing in the nsing,
seldom satisfying, and frequently debasing. The
divine teacher represents the food of the prodigal
as the husks on which swine were fed. The food
of the children of God is called the finest of the
wheat, and pure honey from the rock. Where
shall we find the wanderers from heaven seeking
their joys ? They are seen in the social meeting
where the name of God is excluded, and the great
things of eternity never obtain a passing allusion.
They are found in the ball-room where vanity is
the presiding genius, and the lust of the flesh and
the lust of the eye hold open court. They are
swarming in the theatres where the devil Iwlds his
grand reviews, and where exhibiting all the pomp
and splendor of his kingdom, he gathers up fresh
recruits in large numbers, and stimulates his old
hacks to redoubled speed in their hell- ward career.
But who shall mention the haunts of intemperance
and vice, where the fallen spirit wallows in the
mire? I pass them by. Every depraved heart
will find some impure stream at which to slake his
perverted appetite.

And now, reader, consider that it is to these
vain, wicked, polluted wanderers the Lord of hosts
sends this gracious message — ' Turn unto me ! '
They are fools. While they are so eagerly grasp-
ing the things of earth, the time and opportunity

THE CALL.

175

of securing a fjlorious and eternal inheritanec arc
passing beyond their reach. Engrossing them-
selves with repairing and fastening the ties wliich
death is constantly breaking, tliey neglect to secure
the spiritual bond, the heavenly relationship, which
the hand of death can never sever. Instead of the
amusements which leave an aching void when they
are past, the fields of benevolence and devotion
would open up scenes of enjoyment where peren-
nial verdure and beauty never cease to charm.
Return, O wandering sinner to God, and paradise
again shall be your possession — God will be your
Father, the holy angels your brethren, the saints
of all ages your kindred and companions — you
shall drink of a river every drop of which is life
giving, and your joys Avhile countless ages roll by
shall know no diminution ! What say you to this
call? Will you go?

From your sins God calls you. What ad-
vantage is it to you to tread under foot the statutes
of the Most High ? His honor may not concern
you, but it dearly concerns himself, and he will
make you know it. Abandon your evil ways.
Every sin is a wound inflicted on yourself, and a
wound that no mortal hand can cure — a sore that
will fester and give pain to all eternity unless
cured in sovereign pity hy the God against whom
you sin. What infatuation to attempt to withstand
the Almighty ! Your own heart will yet condemn

mmmm

17()

URGENT APPE.\LS.

■ ■ 'l

■ I*

you — your fellow men whom you injure will rise
up in judgment against you — God himself will lay
hold on vengeance. Turn then at God's call — you
leave nothing" behind that is worth the takins: —
your escape is from sorrow, woe and damnation.

From your lusts God calls you. You are feed-
ing on ashes — God would give you the bread of
heaven — you are herding w4th swine, God would
place you among angels — you are intoxicated by
the poison of sin, God would give you the living
water from his eternal throne. Will you tarry for
a moment ? O rythcr exclaim — ' Lord, I will come
— I do 710VJ come ! '

To whom would you come? "Turn unto me
saith the Lord of hosts." Consider this. It is to
the Leader of the hosts of heaven and earth that
you are to come. You are not to return to ain
subordinate olficer — to any mere creature however
high in rank — but to the great and absolute Com-
mander-in-chief of all armies rationu 1 and irrational ,
celestial, terrestrial tmd infernal. Shall vou dis-
obey this summons? Shall you disregard this in-
vitation ? Oh, never ! You arc sent for in mercy,
not in anger. It is to save not to destroy, to bless
not to curse that the great Leader calls you to his
seat. He is your Maker, Shall the thing formed
say to him that formed it — ' What have I to do with
thee?' He is your owner, will you dare dispute
his right to dispose of you as he pleases ? AVill

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THE PROMISE.

177

you deny his claim to your immediate service, or
assert your independence ? Nearer still, he is your
Father, should you not obey him? jNIust not his
intentions be good when he invites his poor dis-
tracted, dying children U^ ^ms happy and well-sup-
plied home? C^an he nt his only begotten
Son to die for his fau: ' children on earth, be
prompted by any other feelings but those of love
and mercy in thus calling you to him. Arise, and
go back at once, poor child of earth, to your wait-
ing heavenly' Father, (lo in humility, for he is
great ; go in penitence, for he is just and holy ; go
in confidence, for he is sincere and very gracious ;
and go without one hour's delay, for the salvation
of your soul may depend upon it.

II. THE PIIOMISE OF THE LOUD OF HOSTS.

" And I v/ill turn unto you, saitli the Lord of
hosts." The call comes not alone. He who was
pleased to call, condescends to disclose his feelings
and reveal his intentions. His feelings are benig-
nant, and his intentions not barely peaceful but
generous. He will meet the returning sinner.
What condescension ! To have paid Juiy attention
to any request from the simun-, after he had found
or won his way wholly back to God, would have
been undeniably an act of grace ; but to ask him to
return and to go to meet him when yet a great way

178

URGENT APPEALS.

off, with no instriimoiits of vengeance bnt with ever}'
indication of overflowing parental love, is an
amazing evidence of the divine benevolence. If
such is the Lord's disposition towards the sinner,
there can be no doubt as to the nature of his in-
tentions in seeking this interview. He seeks re-
conciliation — the restoration of his fallen creature
to his favor. And if this meeting should take
place in the manner desired, how far would the
sinner be affected by this promise ? — what results
would most surely follow this meeting?

The past would be forgiven. And what a stretch
of mercy and grace would that be ! (lod's authori-
ty had been disregarded habitually. Tlie voice of
the world, the suggestion of the devil, or the evil
desire of his own heart was sufficient, at any time,
to set aside the command of the Most High. The
attitude which his proud spirit wore, ever said —
Who is the Lord that I should obey him? — I
know not the Lord, neither will I obey him. And
if anything could add provocation to this sin, it
was the utter insigniticance of the trifle for the
sake of which he could put his foot upon the law
of God. Now, all this is forgiven. The sinner
has felt and acknowledged the authority oif the
great God, and has bowed in the dust before him ;
and the folly and ignorance and guilt of the past
is graciously put out of sight. But he had added
liJitrcd to contempt of authority. Every thing

THE PROMISE.

179

pcMjuUar to God he had disliked. lie was disj^iist-
cd with his holiness, he could not bear his justice,
his worship was most wearisome, and his laws
enslaving. His very name, except when profanely
used, awid^encd an uneasy feeling in his soul.
How can all this ill-will Ix^ forgotten ? How cjui
such an inveterate enemy he kindly treated ? He
is, for he has bemoaned the enmity which he had
wickedly cherished ; and his hatred is for ever
forgiven. But he had insulted God by refushig
to believe him, thereby making him a liar. Though
reason had been added to authority, and self-
interest to reason, still the sinner had refused to
confide in any thing which (lod said, ('an this
great p ovocation be forgotten? — It is. The sin
has been repented of, and now the returning sin-
ner will accept God's simple word against a uni-
verse of rebels. But he has sunk so low, he has
disgraced himself by so many vile sins, that in his
own, and in God's sight, he is an impure wretch,
how can these sins or the remembrance of the past
be eftaced? They can — they can. They arc? so
heartily condemned and abhorred by the sinner,
that he who comes to meet him, can apply his
own most precious blood, and leave not a stain
behind. O glorious truth to the anxious soul I
The dark, vile, shameful past is wiped out — for
ever wiped out ; and the man stands forth liberated,
unburdened, puritied once again to do his best to

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URGENT yVPrEAL8.

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serve and glorify him who is now both Rcdecnior
and God.

The future is secured by a covenant of peace,
(iod does not do liis work l)y halves. When ho
saves, he saves for ever. This is effected l)v a
covenant engagement. "Incline your ear and
come unto me — hear and your soul shall live — and
r will make an euerhistuig covenant ivith you, even
the sure mercies of David.*' This covenant is of
special advantage to the reconciled sinner. Ho
is able of himself to do nothing; but this willing
surrender of himself and all that he has to God, to
be disposed of at the divine pleasure, renders it
consistent on God's part to secure the most
precious Ijlessings to him. By the engagement,
the sinner now restored is to love and serve God
x\\\ (us days, and God passes his word to grant
j^lpHiy (.q jiai'don, grace to sustain, and light to
giildo liiiii, aii(t tinhilses nisver to leave nor forsake
IJio soul hilt 111 IliDjj Ij |j|i((|i< In everlasting glory,
lint may \\{\[ (tie s|j))j)il''s piisconduct neutralize
and destroy \\\ lliese (( vjljljages? Not entirely

y 1)0 diniiiiisli('(l,

or permanent y. The b cssings \\\\\y bo dimiii
OV (jiejr e|).|()y|)|ent g|*<'i(|)y c|(Hal cd, by reason of
illb negligence or sin of ttie creature ; but the
grand excellence of (Ills covenant is, that it recog-
|i|zos the weakness of t)ie sinner, and makes pro-
vision ngalnst such a pt'cach of the covenant as
would necessitiito |||e entire withdrtiwal of the

THE PKOMISK.

181

Holy Spirit. O precious covenant in which divine;
grace effects all : the believer is preserved and God
is glorified !

Another result of the meeting is that his presence
will assimilate you to himself. All are influenced
by the company which they keep. The stronger
spirit influences the weaker for good or evil.
Intercourse with the devil, a great and powerful
spirit, must darken and corrupt the mind. In like
manner, intercourse with God, of the intimate
nature referred to, must enlighten, ennoble and
beautify the soul. You cannot rise from a dark
pit, and stand in the beams of a summer's sun, al-
though they be but the slanting rays of the morning,
without feeling and being penetrated by their light
and warmth. And can you meet with him w4io
fills all heaven w'ith glory, and not be powerfully
impressed with a sense of his transccndant excel-
lence? But the influence experienced will not be
simply a natural result but an intentional trans-
formation. He will manifest his glory to you in
a special manner, and for a special reason, if you
will return to him. He will shine upon you to fill
you with light — he will breathe upon you to fill
you with life — he will turn his hand upon you and
transform you — and softening your heart to receive
the impression of his glory, he will cause his own
beauty to adorn you. All this you shall have in
contrast to the repulsive wretchedness and debasing

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182

IIUGKNT APPEALS.

deformity of your past condition. Reader, will
you not now go and meet your God, and becomo
for ever like him ?

But more, you shall be for ever with him. lie
turns to you now with the intention never to turn
away from you. He will keep near to you while
on earth, and when you die — which will be very
soon — he will take you up to be with himself, and
so you shall be for ever with the Lord. He will
bind you to himself by the bond of love, the
strongest tic in heaven or earth. His presence
will be so agreeable that you will never weary of
being with him. His capacity to instruct, interest,
and enrapture will be found to be inexhaustible.
The reconciliation, peace, love and delight will be
complete and everlasting. Thus will he fulfil the
promise, "I will turn unto you."

To confirm the decided, and to induce the hesi-
tating to an immediate decision to return to God,
let me add.

(

III. SOME REASONS FOR TURNING TO GOD.

The past statements abound with arguments
fitted to induce the sinner at once to seek a friendly
interview with God, and they might be multiplied
indefinitely. A few only of the simplest and most
direct will now be noticed.

First, you can lose nothing by turning to God.

REASONS FOIt TUHNINO TO GOD.

183

You may have to part with much, ])ut what you
abandon cannot truly be regarded as a loss. Sin,
shame, sorrow, evil companions, the devil himsell'
will be left, but will these be counted any loss? If
you have to give up what in themselves may be
dear and valuable, as friends, relatives, property,
home itself, it will be more than made up to you.
Is there not truth in those words of Jesus : " And
every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren,
or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children,
or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an
hundred fold, and shall inherit everlasting life,"?
Who would complain of such a trasaction ? Does
any one reply — ' But I would lose all my happiness
— I would have to give up my joys and my pleas-
ures and my life henceforth should be shrouded in
darkness " ? — O how mistaken ! No lawful pleasure
would be denied you — ^your earthly joys would be
exchanged for others, sweeter, deeper, holier, and
sunshine instead of darkness may brighten the rest
of your days.

Second, you will gain much. At present you are
in dishonor. Then you shall have honor. Now
as outcast, a wanderer, a rebel — then a member of
the family of God, protected, respected, supplied.
Now clothed in the tilthy garments of sin — then
adorned with the robe of Immanuel's righteousness.
Now a companion of wretched sinners — then a
companion of saints. Now a follower of the devil

r..

184

UUOENT AITKALS.

— then ca disciple of Christ. Now under the curse
of the Almighty, the heaviest brand of disirrace
which any being can wear — then rejoicing under
the parental blessing of the same glorious Being.
Now travelling to prison, as a condennied rebel —
then marching to glory under an escort of angels,
as a trophy of divine grace. In one word, now
a child of hell — then an heir of heaven.

You shall gain peace. Peace is a blessing which
rank cannot give, riches cannot purchase, nor hon-
ors secure. It is a divine gift. It dwells only
where the spirit of God dwells. There is no peace
to those who are away from God, nor can they find
peace while departing from him. The nations of
the world are ever sighing in their restlessness,
because they have revolted from their Maker. Sin
is the disturbing element — and where it reigns, it
will not suffer peace to rest the sole of her foot.
When you turn to God, he will cast sin out, he
will break the power of sin, and speak peace to the
troubled conscience, he will silence all the thunders
of the law which shakes the awakened soul with
terrors, and will whisper the sweetest consolations
to the agitated spirit. Instead of upbraiding with
a remembrance of the past, he will order the ring
to be produced and placed on the hand, as a token
of his love. Let storms rage without, let losses,
persecutions, bereavements, and troubles beset
and repress, there will be calm within. Let Death,

nBL,V80N8 FOR TURNING TO GOD.

185

the very king of terrors, come to frighten, the
heavenly peace bestowed by Jesus meets and dis-
arms him, when, assuming the garb of a ministering
angel, he disrobes the soul of the encumbrance of
the body, and permits it to pass untouched to the
realms of everlasting peace.

You will gain purity. While away from God
you must remain impure. God alone can cleanse
a soul defiled by sin. And whenever you return
you shall be made clean. Christ loved the church
and gave himself for it, that he might sanctify and
cleanse it with the washing of water by the word
— that he might present it to himself a glorious
church, not having spot or wrirkle or any such
thing. But what, you reply, if I should be made
pure? — Purity is the door to honor and happiness.
No purity, — no honor, no happiness before God.
Purity will admit you into the palace of the King
Eternal, and permit you to behold his face. Purity
will enroll you among the nobility of heaven, and
give you a place among the angels of God. In
comparison with it, the richest crown on earth,
adorned with all the jewels that ever sparkled in
a diadem, could not for a moment be looked at.

And let me simply say, you will gain eternal
life in unending glory. If this has no value, I
cease to speak. If it fail to induce you to return
to God, nothing in the form of a reward can have
any influence over you. Nothing can equal this.

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186

URGENT APPEALS.

O let wisdom speak. Life, then, shall be yours.

Third, you will please God. The pleasure of
your Maker should be no matter of indifference to
you. It should delight you to please him. It
should pain you to displease him. Now he is
grieved at your folly, unbelief, and sin, and would
rejoice to see you return, for he delights in mercy.
Ought you not to please him in this matter above
all things ! Will you say, — ' No ! I will not please
God even in what concerns my own salvation.'
Ah then ! you have no love to God — ^you are his
enemy, and he will treat you as such.

For, fourth, if you turn not to him, you shall
hum. So he has determined. All who obey not
his gospel, his message of mercy, his call to re-
pentance, shall be punished with everlasting de-
struction from the presence of the Lord. And
what that destruction is, he tells from the judgment
seat. It is the everlasting fire prepared for the
devil and his angels. Will you now obey his call ?
A meeting with you he would have — a meeting
he shall have. But it is for you to say where.
He would meet you now, this very hour — on this
side the grave — in this the only place of mercy.
If you decline, or it may be only defer, he will
meet you, — ^that you cannot avoid, — but it will be
in wrath, not in pity, in a place of judgment, not
of mercy, in eternity not in time — and as a con-
auming fire, O reader have you yet turned to

ITW"

REASONS FOB TUBNING TO GOD.

187

the Lord ? If not, hasten, O hasten, and God may
yet turn to you, and bringing all the glory of
hea^^en with him, may embrace, welcome and bless
you for ever.

^:!

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li.

CHAPTER VIII.

" And if thy right eye offenr?. thee pluck it out and cast it from thee ;

for it is x)rofltuble for thee that one of thv members should

perish, and not that tliy whole body should be

cast into hell." Matt, v ch. 29 v.

Iff

Nothing great or good is accomplished in this
fallen world without difficulty. It is an easy
matter like the dead tree to float down in the
turbid torrent ; it is quite another thing to stem
the stream, and grasp a foothold on the sands of
time, and strike deep the roots and throw wide the
branches, defying alike the stormy winds and the
rushing waters. It is one thing to go through the
daily routine of passing and repassing between the
field of labour and the table of refreshment, or the
couch of rest ; it is something very different to
snatch up the hasty morsel at any moment, and do
battle daily with a valiant and a vigilant foe. To
lie like the inert mass of rock within the tide-mark
to be overwhelmed or left dry by the flowing or
ebbing waters ^ requires no effort; but, like the

■I f

SUCCESS ATTAINED WITH DITFICULTY. 189

sea-plant, to float in all waters, and bear the head
above every boisterous billow, is the work of the
living, the energetic, and the brave.

The man who, with any foresight, sets himself
to acquire wealth, distinction or honors, reckons
on much self denial, much arduous toil and much
patient, perse vering labour. One act may, indeed,
secure the ob^^ct of hite .» ::bition, but is it not more
generally the hard earnings of a lifetime? The
American or Australian gold digger, while anxious-
ly looking for the shining nugget which may at
once elevate him to wealth, toils on, sinking his
shaft deeper and deeper and enlarging his galleries,
constantly swinging his pick-axe or pounding the
stubborn quartz with his sledgehammer, and
searching with untiring gaze for the shining specks
of gold. Hard is his labour for the much coveted
dust. The student who fixes an eager eye on the
heights of fame follows his researches through the
midnight hour, bending his mind with most re-
solute perseverance to comprehend his mathemati-
cal problem, to calculate a force in natural philoso-
phy, or to estimate the result of the combination
of certain chemical properties. It is after years of
exhausting mental efibrt that he expects to make
such an addition to scientific knowledj^e as will
entitle him to a place among the learuv^-d of the
earth. The man who to-day enters the ranks with
the hope of rising to the high honor ci general-in-

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190

URGENT APPEALS.

chief at some future time, counts upon daring ex-
ploits, hand to hand encounters, hard-fought
battles, tedious seiges, wearisome marches, and
innumerable risks of life. Through what an or-
deal may he pass before merit can place him at the
head of an army? Difficulties may the more
certainly be looked for when serious disadvantages
lie in the upward path. The gold seeker starts
without capital and must rely upon his industry
and vigorous constitution. The student is of
humble birth and without noble patronage, and
must work his own way or fail. The soldier is
without funds or friends to procure him a com-
mission, his rifle or his sword guided by a cool
brain and a keen eye must open up a way for him.
Does the invalid expect to regain his health at
once, or the bankrupt to recover his lost property
in a day? — In vain. Self denial — patience — toil,
must have their time.

And if so much is done, so much endured to
reach a worldly object such as perishable wealth,
or unsatisfying fame, how much more should be
performed and borne to attain a result so vast and
inestimably precious as life everlasting ? Circum-
stances may present extreme cases. The question
then is not, shall all this outlay be made for so
limited an advantage, but shall this sacrifice be
made or this risk taken, or all be lost. A man is
shipwrecked. He has to swim to the shore from

SUCCESS ATTAINED WITH DIITICULTY. 191

ex-

Jght

and

or-

the

piore

the broken vessel. He has much dearly prized
gold in his trunk. It cannot be taken. Shall he
cling to it and perish, or turning his eyes from it
boldly plunge into the deep and make for the land?
•Is not the life more than meat,' more than gold?
It may be very unpleasant to leave the comforts
of home, and endure the hardships and brave the
ever-recurring dangers of the mighty deep, but
the necessities of that very home demand the sacri-
fice and it is given. It is positively painful to
separate from wife and childrei and go forth to
the field of battle not knowing out that the very
first volley from the rifles of the foe may lay low
in death, but the honor and the defence of country
and of home demand the sacrifice, and sadly but
sternly the call of duty is obeyed. Who scruples
to take the bitter pill that is to free the system
from disease ? Who refuses to have the mortified
limb amputated, when the rest of the body is thus
to be saved from corruption ?

This is the idea of the text. Our circumstances
are no longer a matter of choice. Necessity is
laid upon us. We are dir'eased, we are dying,
and the seat and root of the disease must be reach-
ed at once, and unsparingly dealt with, or we are
lost. Shall we complain? It is vain. Sin has
struck its cancerous roots into our system, and
nothing short of the excision or extraction of the
ingrafted evil can save

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us. Shall we hesitate?

'.?''

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192

URGENT APPEALS.

What I — suffer the whole tree that might yet
bloom in the paradise of God to be consumed
rather than throw a rotten branch into the fire ! —
Consider,

I. WHAT IS THE OFFENCE OF THE EYE.

The eye is a wonderful exhibition of skill. Its
adaptation to the purposes of vision is absolutely
perfect. It is moved and moistened, washed and
drained, warmed and sheltered in the best possible
manner. And how useful ! With it we gaze upon
the starry worlds which, shining at immeasurable
distances in the realms of space, reveal the vast-
ness of Jehovah's empire. With it we look in
silent wonder on the wide ocean whose countless
billows dance in the sun-beam, or wildly roll in
the darkness of the night of storm. With it the
mind takes in the varied beauties of the landscape,
the mountain tops, the winding stream, and the
waving cornfield. But it is in the every day duties
and dangers, labours and pleasures of life that its
indispensable and invaluable services are most
patiently rendered. And how expressive ! What
power is in a look I It may fill the soul with joy,
or smite it with shame. It may pierce it as with
a sword, or infuse into it the utmost ardour. It
can kindle love or pity; or stir up wrath and
pride. It can raise up or cast down, attract or
repel.

THE OrrENCE OF THE EYE.

193

It is not suqirising that an organ of such use-
fulness and power should bo eagerly seized and
vigorously plied by those spiritual foes who have
done so much to debase and enslave our i*ace.
Through it the prince of this world allures un-
counted millions to the regions of the lost. He
holds up before their eyes the pomp and glory
and splendour, the riches and pleasures of this
evil world, dressing every crime in its most at-
tractive garb ; and they follow as readily as a
thirsty animal a pail of water. Hence the eye is
often an offence — a stumblmg-block. While it is
the inlet to ujilimited knowledge and inexpressible
pleasure, it is also the inlet to enormous crimes,
and through these to unutterable miseries. Of the
many sins of which this organ is the medium, the
the agent, or the instrument, we may select three
of the most common and most dangerous, for
iUustratiou, — the sins of pride, covetousncss, and
sensuality.

In the first great crime that precipitated our
first parents from innocence and bliss to guilt and
wretchedness, these three sins were blended to-
gether, and each was fostered by the sight of the
eyes. Pride was predominant. That was coveted
which was forbidden, and an unlawful appetite
was cherished ; but it was the desire to rise above
their natural position, Uo be as gods, ^ in the pos-
session of a wisdom heretofore unknown, that

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li V.

194

URGENT APPEALS.

burst through all restraints, and silenced all re-
monstrances of conscience, and hurried them to
woeful disobedience. And it was while the wo-
man looked upon the forbidden tree, 'saw that it
was good for food, and that it was pha.sant to the
ewe^,' that this killing ambition, this soul-destroy-
ing pride, rose and grew and prevailed. j\Iany
centuries later, one of the greatest of the Baby-
lonian monarchs, while walking in and around and
upon the splendid palace which he had adorned for
his residence, uttered the self-extolling words —
' Is not this great Babylon that I have built for the
house of the kingdom, by the might of my power
and for the honor of my majesty ?' The greatness
and grandeur and magnificence of the palace and
metropolis on which his eyes feasted inflated him
with pride, and the Most High cast him down
from his loftiness and excluded him from the
society of men. And with what feelings do the
monarchs of earth review their grand armies clad
in all the habiliments of war, or their magnificent
fleets presumed to be invincible? Do they feel
that these hosts are flesh and not spirit ; and their
fleets but the foam on the ocean wave at the
pleasure of the Almighty ? What emotions swell
the bosom of the nobleman as he rides through his
extensive estates, and surveys their varied scenery
and increasing wealth? Is he not inclined to
think that he is made of superior clay to that man

THK OFFENCE OF THE EYE.

195

who digs in the drain along which he rides ? What
ideas float in the brain of the lady of fashion who
can spend hour after hour before the mirror ad-
miring her own face, and praising the beauty atd
richness of her dress ? Her beauty is unquestion-
able, and so is her pride, and her assiduous atten-
tion to the one has consciously or unconsciously
fed and fostered the other.

It is difficult for man to behold the evidences of
his superiority over others without being elated.
The orator looks around on the vast assemblage
moved as the winds of the forest by his powerful
speech, and feels proud of his abilities. The
merchant gazes on his accumulating wealth, and
his abounding luxuries, and looks down with dis-
dain on his poorer neighbors. The man of dignity
passes on the highway a man of meanest rank, and
the very contrast increases his selfimpoi-tance,
and he walks on with haughtier mien. This feeling
is not confined to the great, the wealthy, and the
distinguished. The very lowest classes have their
petty distinctions at the sight of which they grow
proud. Even the prospect of superiority will have
the same effect. Let the eye rest on the means
which are supposed to lead with certainty to the
desired result and the soul is elated ; and the man
may turn round and despise those who are con-
sidered less fortunate. Pride, as understood in
its peculiar signification, and as distinguished from

i !

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196

URGENT APPEALS.

a proper sclfrespect and a right appreciation of our
talents, means or circumstances, is a great and
unmixed evil, and the eye is the main inlet by
which it enters and through which it is nourished
hi the human soul.

In awakening a spirit of covetousness the eye is
no loss active and instrumental. How natural, in
our fallen state, to desire to have what we sec to
be specially useful, attractive, or precious, without
regard to the obstructions which lawfully prevent
it from coming into our possession ! Achan's dis-
covery in the ruins of Jericho proved a sad sight
to him and his family. ' When I saw,^ said he, in his
confession, * among the spoils a goodly Babylonish
garment, and two hundred shekels of silver, and
a wedge of gold of fifty shekels weight, then I
coveted them, and took them ! ' Swift and terrible
rras the vengeance that overtook him. Ahab, the
wicked king of Samaria, had a palace in Jezreel,
and hard by it was the beautiful vineyard of Na-
both, a citizen of the place. As often as Ahab
sojourned in Jezreel he eyed with covetous look
the vineyard so close to his palace. His heart is
set upon it, and he must have it. ButNaboth will
neither exchange nor sell. The disappointment
is so great that it sickens the covetous king. His
wife in her craft and audacity comes to his aid, and
Naboth is murdered in form of law, that his proper-
ty may be seized. But there is a just Judge above

THE OFFENCE OF THE EYE.

197

►f our

and

Rt by

ished

who beholds the transactions of men. Ahab goes
do\vn to possess the vineyard of the murdered
Naboth, but while there the message of the Lord
of heaven and earth rings in his cars, and causes
his knees to tremble. Thus said the Lord to him :
* In the place where dogs licked the blood of Naboth,
shall dogs lick thy blood, even thine ' — and of the
infamous Jezebel, he said, ' The dogs shall eat
Jezebel by the wall of Jczrecl.' And so it happen-
ed ; the covetous glance of Ahab terminated in the
craunching of the bones of Jezebel by the tierce
Syrian dogs. Not many years after this, Naaman
the Syrian, was cured of leprosy through Elisha
the prophet. Gold and silver and changes of rai-
ment were ofiered, as a present, by the grateful
Syrian to the prophet. They were of no value in
the eyes of the man of God ; but they w^erc viewed
with very different feelings by Gehazi the servant
of the prophet. When Elisha persistently refused
to take anything, Gehazi wished that the same
oflfer had been made to him ; and with feelings of
deep uneasiness saw the Syrian set out in his
homeward journey, taking all his valuable gifts
with him. He resolved to follow, and by a made-
up story to secure some of the money and some of
the garments. He succeeded ; but he got more
than he looked for. The silver and the garments
became his — but so did the leprosy. The retribu-
tion was sudden and severe. It was fascinating

i f '

i\>

193

URGENT APPEALS.

1 1

?!
! i

to look upon the bags of gold and silver, and
the beautiful garments — but the end was the loath-
some disease of leprosy on himself and his posteri-
ty for ever.

And to what shall we trace nine-tenths of the
thefts riaily committed all the world over? The
eye has alighted on the valuable object and the
covetous desire has been awakened ; the resolution
is taken, the deed is committed, and all the sad
consequence^ follow. The valet of the Duke of
Brunswick (who resided in Paris and who has a
singular passion for collecting jewelry,) lately
robbed his master, the Duke, of diamonds and
jewels and gold to the enormous amount of a
million and a half of dollars. The sight of the
precious articles had kindled a passion in the
bosom of the servant, and he gathers them up and
makes oflf — but only to be caught and disgraced.
In one case, the article exposed for sale is swept
from the 'counter, on the eye of the merchant being
turned away ; in another, the fruit from tho neigh-
bor's orchard is plucked and eaten, when no
human form is within view. On one hand, may
be seen the clerk gazing on the bank notes in the
desk of his master, till, pressed by the necessities
of his extravagance, he stifles all the demurrings
of his conscience, and appropriates to himself the
amount he wants ; and on the other, the ambitious
man, stirred by the glitter and grandeur of his

THE OFFENCE OF THE EYE.

199

neighbor, rushing into reckless expenditure to
equal him in appearances until a collapse shall
involve himself and his family in ruin. How
much better to let the eyelids drop, and recall ihe
words of truth — ' As the flower of the grass shall
the rich man fade.'

The degradation of sensuality is attributable, in
a great measure, to the instrumentality of a wander-
ing, wanton, and untrained eye. No doubt the
eye is often the agent and messenger of the
previously existing desire ; but it is also often the
suggester and prompter of evil when the desire is
dormant. In the general term, sensuality', are
included the vices of gluttony, drunkenness, and
uncleanness. Of the first we need not speak par-
ticularly, as its victims are comparatively rare and
less infectious ; of the other two, alas ! the victims
may be counted by myriads. How do men and
women become drunkards? By looking on the
beer, the whiskey, the gin, the brandy and the
wine, and by seeing others drinking them. Many
would never have begun the fatal descent to this
infamy, had not some friend ( ?) brought the filled
glass, and held it up before the eyes until all aver-
sion was overcome, and the barrier of total absti-
nence was crossed. And is it not the sight of the
intoxicating fluid that often drags back and hurls
down those who for a time have escaped from the
grasp of this foul demon? In sins of uncleanness

mmm

200

URGENT APPEALS.

the eyes have ever beer, prominent agents.
Hamor^s wanton eyes brought disgrace on Jacob's
family, and ruin on himself and his father's house.
The wanton eyes of Potiphar's wife involved the
Hebrew stranger in most alarming, danger and
then consigned him to a dimgeon. The king of
Israel gazed upon the beautiful Bathsheba, and was
led to commit the scandalous and atrocious crimes
of adultery and murder, the consequences of which
were humiliating and painful, in the last degree, to
himself, and most disastrous to his family. So
connected are the eves with these sins, that the
apostle Peter speaks of persons having eyes full
of adultery and that cannot cease from sin. How
many have fallen never to rise again by the en-
snaring look of a degraded woman I And how
many once innocent and pure have been beguiled
from the path of chastity by the doting eyes of a
professed lover ! These are stains neither easily
wiped out, nor soon forgotten. The memory of
them often survives the guilty, and casts a shadow
over the innocent. That which is most useful,
when perverted becomes the most destructive.
The eye which should guide the soul into the way
of light, and home to the palace of God, leads it
into the way of darkness, and down to the prison
of the lost. Many shall have reason to curse for
ever their wanton eyes. By them they fell ; and
when fallen they were laid hold of by those who

TREATMENT PRESCRIBED.

201

prevented them from rising again. The Creator
has doubly guarded the material eye by brow and
iid, besides giving it the quickest nervous sensibility
to hide from approaching danger ; let rational and
immortal man doubly guard by thought and vigi-
lance those beautiful avenues of light and life from
the contamination of pride, covetousness and
sensuality. Then shall their possessor be honored
to see the king in his beauty, and the far-oflf land
of glory.

II. THE TREATMENT PRESCRIBED FOR THE
OFFENDING EYE.

5 § II
. ■ ^ ' -,

I. 'li-

" If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and
cast it from thee.** This treatment is severe and
radical. It is not a turning aside or covering over
of the eye, but a plucking out and casting away of
the obnoxious organ. No sensible person supposes
that this advice of our Saviour is to be literally
carried out. He applies to the eye a treatment
intended for the sins of which it has been the chief
organ or instrument. Seize, tear out, and cast
away, he says, those sins which have caused you
to stumble, be they as dear as a right eye, and their
extraction as painfal as the plucking out of that
organ. Deal resolutely, severely, and thoroughly,
for no milder treatment will save the soul from
hell. Under such a process of expurgation the
literal eye will undergo a training which will be

}

202

URGENT APPEALS.

tantamount to its extraction, in so far as these sins
are concerned. And how is this treatment to be
carried through ? Only by a deep conviction of
its absolute necessitj^ These sins are too agree-
able to the carnal heart, they adhere too closely to
it, they have wrapped their roots too firmly around
it, to be removed without a painful struggle. The
necessity will only be felt after a clear perception
of the folly, guilt and danger of these sins. Let
him summon his soul before him, and let these
questions be asked. Is he proud? What has he
to be proud of? Is it of his birth? Let him go
back a few generations, and where shall he find
his ancestor ? — A day laborer, a poor foreigner,
a serf, or an untutored idolator. Is it of his
wealth? — It is an uncaged bird with unplucked
wings. It is here to day, and may be far hence
to-morrow. It is the loaned goods of another and
may be demanded without a moment's warning.
Is it of his talents ? Are they his own creation ?
Are they not the unbought gift of God? They
were unmerited and unasked ; and must yet be
restored with suitable recompence to the giver.
Is it of beauty ? — It is a rapidly fading flower, and
no power on earth can retain its freshness or
vitality. Is it of strength? — It is unnerved, and
as tow before the flame, at the breath of disease
and at the look of death. Or, is it of success in
business ? — ^That is owing to numberless co-opera-

TREATMENT PRESCRIBED.

203

tinjr circumstances over which he could exercise
no control, and without which all his energy and
tact would have been unavailing. All is of God ;
before him let the man prostrate himself and not
before his own image. If his pride is folly, is it
not also a crime ? Shall he boast of that which be-
longs to another? Shall he glory in appearances
where nothing is enduring? Shall he claim the
honor of an owner when he is but the temporary
depositary ? Is there no danger in all this ? God
is jealous, and the Lord revengeth. He will never
suffer his glory to be given to another. Pride is
an abomination in his sight. No one can assume
that dress without instantly becoming an object of
contempt to him. Does thine eye offend thee,
reader, in this way ? Pluck it out and cast it to
the ground, and tramp it under foot. It is the
dizziness of the mariner on the mast head which
relaxes his grasp of the shrouds which surround
him, and precipitates him into the yawning gulf
below. Dash it aside and clear thy brain from this
delirium or thou art a lost soul. No proud soul
journeys heavenward ; every step is towards the
pit. What I spare the destroyer ! — shrink from
such severity ! No timid, mild, half and half
measures will now do. The enemy is in and will
put you out of rest and bliss for ever, or you must
put it out of heart and home with you. Beloved
self must come down from its throne, and sit in

M fe'

204

URGENT APPEALS.

dust and ashes at the feet of Jesus, while the eye
is fixed in mute wonder on the cross.

Does a covetous eye cause thee to stumble?
Summon it to the bar of reason. On what does
it look with such intensity of desire? Is it the
noble,moral, and spiritual qualities which adorn and
honor an immortal so'^1? If so, give it every
license, keep the gaze steadily fixed there until the
image is transferred to the beholder. But no ; it
is the perishable things of time. It is the rank,
the fame, the wealth, and even the trifles of earth.
What is there here for thee O undying soul of man !
What is rank to thee among the flitting shadows of
time ? You have gazed upon the darting, dancing,
changing lights which spread over our arctic
sky in fall or winter. How unstable, how evan-
escent I Such is earthly rank. You are scarcely
up, till you drop to make room for another, and
then the whole family group is wiped away. What
is fame to thee ? It is a passing breeze — it is a
fleeting shadow. You cannot retain it, you cannot
live by it. What is fame now to Caesar or Alex-
ander, Wellington or Napoleon ? Their stars have
set on earth never to rise again. What is wealth
to thee ? It will increase thy worldly comforts ;
but it will also increase thy worldly cares and
anxieties. It may give thee the purple and fine
linen and sumptuous fare of the rich man at whose
gate Lazarous was laid, but it may also hedge up

i^H"

mimm^mi

TREATMENT PBESORIBED.

205

thy way to heaven and give thee a place beside the
same rich man in the torments of hell. Should
you encumber yourself in travelling on a perilous
journey ? — Hear the words of Jesus : * How hardly
shall they that have riches enter the kingdom of
God." Reader, it is your great task to get there ;
and it is not wisdom eagerly to desire that which
may obstruct your progress, if it do not wholly
prevent your admission.

But more than this, God has said — " Thou shalt
not covet." He deemed this sin of sufficient im-
portance to condemn it expressly in the epitome
of his law. As the parent of many crimes such as
lying, theft, extortion, and murder, it was proper
that it should be clearly pointed out, as incurring
the divine displeasure. Man's law may not take
cognizance of a look — not so God's law. And it
is man's first concern to know how every feature
of his conduct is regarded by his omniscient Judge.
Would it not be strange if a deed was condemned
as sinful, and the thought or purpose which gave
birth to it, considered as harmless ? The covetous
look often gives rise to the midnight theft, and to
the murderous attack, with all their train of evils
to the doer and to the sufferer. Need we say that
there is danger in such a look ? Wherever there
is sin, there is danger ; and where there is a pro-
lific source of sins, there is special danger. The
bare sensation 'irising from the eye being fixed on

206

URGENT APPEALS.

an object may become a grasp upon the intellect,
and that grasp may assume resistless power, and
the soul be led a helpless captive. If the eye
must look upon the vanities of time let imagination
lead the way to the end ; — till the beauty of earth
had faded like a leaf, till the fame of earth had
vanished like smoke, till the glory of earth was
corroded with rust, till riches had disappeared
like a bird in its flight, and till all the lands and
possessions on which the heart was set had dwindled
down to one narrow and lonesome pit, the silent

grave.

Does a sensual eye offend thee ? Pluck it out
and cast it from thee. See the folly of it ! Look
at Nabal, folly by name, surrounded by the boun-
ties of providence, surfeited with feasting, " very
drunken," petrified at the report of danger, and
sinking under his own utter helplessness. Look
at Noah, the honored of all the earth, a preacher
of righteousness, humbled and disgraced by the
excessive use of the tempting fruit of his own
vineyard. Look at Samson, the mighty, the re-
nowned champion of Israel, the hammerer of the
Philistines, ensnared by the licentious look of an
abandoned woman, bound, shorn and enfeebled.
See his athletic frame, with locks restored, bend in
darkness in the prison of his foes, while his weary
arms from day to day roll round the heavy mill-
stone, the toil of the meanest slave. How is the

TREATlVrENT PRESCRIBED.

207

mighty fallen I The licentious eye which he spared
was not spared by the haughty and exulting foe.
These are but the loftier heads of the vast throng
who in ancient times fell into this pit. And has
the world grown wiser ? Alas I the successive
generations which appear on c irtb ire but copies
of the preceding. And to-day who can count the
numbers who hourly fall into the vortex of sensu-
ality through the lust of the eye ? To reason about
the folly, guilt and danger of it, is wholly super-
fluous. We point at once to the direct and in-
evitable consequences even in time, and ask, are
these trivial ? — are these desirable ? It may glad-
en and gratify the eye to gaze upon the glass filled
with the favorite drink, or to join in the song and
the dance with the licentious ; but will it gratify
the eye to look, at a future day, on a bloated,
debauched or diseased body clothed in rags, the
shunned and abhorred by all the virtuous and
pure?

What is to be done? If the stumbling-block
is in the way, remove it ; another step, and you
may fall, and your broken bones may give you
pain all your days. Resolution is demanded.
The fascinations of sin are strong cords which
mere faint wishes can never break. And where is
strength of mind so well expended as in breaking
the snares of the great soul-catcher? The plea-
sures of sin are sweet for the present; and the

208

URGENT APPEALS.

eye delights to look upon the bait regardless of
the hook. Severity must do its work. The dear-
ly loved eye must come out, painful as the open-
tion may be. These darling sins — these bosom
friends which the eye had so long entertained with
special pleasure, must now be abandoned, must no
longer be even looked at. How hard to meet
without a mutual recognition after so long an
acquaintance, so close an endearment I But it
must be so. Out it must come. The power to do
evil must be taken away. No halting, no looking
back to Sodom ; no hankering, no furtive glances
towards what is forbidden. In plain terms, the eye
so long accustomed to ensnare, upset, and enslave,
must be so trained by firm, severe and persevering
exercise that it will meet the old or new objects of
temptation, as unmoved, as uninterested, as if it
were an entire blank. It will look upon the dis-
tinctions and glory of earth, and feel that they are
shadows. It will look upon the treasures of earth,
and feel that they are dust and ashes. It will look
upon the pleasures of sense, and feel that they are
inferior, fleeting and unsatisfying. And turning
away from things below, it will fix its steady gaze
on heaven, and exclaim : " My soul thirsteth for
God, for the living God : when shall I come and
appear before God?" The self-sacrifice may be
painful, but the result shall be salutary and glorious.

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT.

209

III. THE CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECTING
THIS TREATMENT.

The whole body shall he cast into hell. This
is the most terrible of consequences, the extreme
of all material punishments. The words of Christ
imply three things.

First, that there is a hell. All believers in the
divine inspiration of the scriptures admit this.
But a few carried away by mistaken and partial
views of the divine character, deny a place of
future punishment. Their hell is the grave or a
pit of moral corruption on earth. It cannot mean
the grave here, for the argument would lose all its
force. An objector might reply — 'I may spare
my offending eye if this is all I have to dread, for
should I pluck it out my body would still descend
to the grave.' Should the disbeliever in a future
hell, answer — *The passage is metaphorical —
Christ speaks of moral pollution or corruption,
and means that the whole soul would be contami-
nated if the eye was not plucked out.' We reply ;
— ^moral corruption is only predicable of a soul, not
of a body, and as a certain physical treatment was
demanded of the natural eye, so a certain physical
result was threatened to the whole natural body.
Should the same objector shift his ground, and
urge that the hell here spoken of, is simply ma-
terial corruption the result of an unguarded eye —

if-

lu *

'■

210

URGENT APPEALS.

vvc reply, the restriction would confine the punish-
ment to u body suffering from disease, inn)rison-
mcnt,and such like, anterior to death, which would
exclude a large number, and these great sinners,
from any special, unpleasant consequences from
the indulgence of the lust of the eye. What
special suffering as the result of this sin had Nabal
of the Old Testament or the Kich Man of the New,
both guilty of pride and sensuality, to say nothing
of covetousness ? The both, for ought we know,
may have died like many of their class in a pain-
less stupor. If this is the hell of the text, many
of the chief culprits in the sins referred to never
enter it ; and if the worst escape why may not
inferior sinners run their chance? The divine
warning would be shorn of its strength. But why
restrict the term here to punishment on this side
the grave, if the same term in other places must
refer to future and everlasting punishment ? Where
did the Rich Man lift up his eyes in torment ? In
this world or the next? — "In hell" — after his
body was buried. ' But oh ! that is a parable.'
Do parables speak lies ? Is their main idea a false-
hood ? The main idea of this parable is, that the
future condition of men is often the reverse of that
in this life. Does not that imply a state of want
and suffering to those who have lived sumptuously
and sinfully on earth ? In the parallel passage in
Mark, the hell of the text is explained as " the fire

that

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT.

211

that shall never be quenched : " and the solemn
words are thrice added — " Where their worm dieth
not, and the fire is not quenched," as if to silence,
for ever, all cavilling as to a place of future punish-
ment. Is there any state of material corruption
on earth of which this description is true ? Where
is " the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and
his angels?" Is it in this world or the next?
Into that fire the wicked shall be sent. We need
not say that on earth no such fire is known. No
wonder that those who deny the existence of a
place of future punishment, deny the existence of
the fallen angels. They cannot stop here. The
Bible is accepted only so far as it accords with
their individual opinions ; the rest is repudiated as
a human imposition. At this point, Avhatever they
may call themselves, they are no better than deists.
But, O mortal man, be not deceived ; as God is
true, there is a hell, whose woes are unutterable
and eternal. To escape it, now demands thine
utmost energy and thought.

Second, that the body shall suffer in hell. The
body is a constituent part of the human person.
Hence the human being is not complete in a dis-
embodied state. Neither redemption nor damna-
tion is perfect till after the resurrection. The
body must go to share the bliss or woe of the soul.
It is just, that it should be so. In the case under
consideration the body has been actively instru-

I !>

J..'. ' I

212

URGENT APPEALS.

mental in the destruction of the soul. Alas I they
have been mutually destruvotive. And now they
must suffer together — and what is worse, be mutual
tormentors. This implies a resurrection of the
body. We see the body committed to the dust,
and we know that it is converted into the very
dust from which it was taken. It shall be restored
and reanimated when the race has run its appoint-
ed course. And further, it implies that the tor-
ments of hell shall be so far material as to affect a
material body. A fire there is, unquenchable,
eternal, fitted to torture but not consume, — a fire
80 penetrating as to reach the inmost recesses of
the soul, and throw its flaming folds around them,
and yet so material as to feed upon the reformed
material body. O horror of horrors ! a human
being, body and soul, enveloped in the unquench-
able flames of Jehovah's wrath I Who, who with
any reason, could be so ciuel to himself as to ex-
pose his body to such a doom, if any sacrifice with-
in his power could prevent it ?

Third, That an unchecked, untrained eye will
precipitate the whole body into hell. This is the
end. however attractive certain parts of the road
may have been. "For this ye know that no
whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous
man who is an idolator, haih any inheritance in
the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no man
deceive you with vain words : for because of these

immm

^■^

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT.

213

things Cometh the wrath of God upon the children
of disobedience." Ephes. v. 5, 6v. Let these fear-
ful truths be repeated. "Know ye not that the
unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God ?
Be not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolators,
nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of
themselves with mankind, nor theives, nor covet-
ous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners,
shall inherit the kingdom of God. "1 Cor. vi. 9, lOv.
If these sinners have no place in heaven, they
shall have a suitable place in hell. In the perpe-
tration of these crimes the eye has taken an active
part. And this " evil eye " has been the agent of
a corrupt heart. Stimulated from within, it has
led the whole man into the mire of licentiousness,
up the dizzy heights of pride, and into the laby-
rinths of covetousness. But wherever led by this
corrupt and deceitful guide, the body finds its last
resting place in the abyss of hell. None escape
who follow it. If the tongue is at times influenced
and controlled by the infernal spirit, so is the eye ;
and those who follow it so influenced, follow the
devil ; and there can be no question as to what
quarter he conducts his dupes. While the offend-
ing eye is spared it will lead ; and while it leads
it will destroy. What alone can save? — The
extraction of this eye. It is the mortifying mem-
ber, and must be cut off, or the whole body will
die. When this is sufliciently proved to any

i<> .

,v f

.1;

■ppn

214

URGENT APPEALS.

sensible patient, does he not consent to see the
limb removed, dear as it may have been to him?
Its usefulness is now gone ; it is worse than use-
less ; it is destroying ; and must be cast off as a
detested object. Can men part with a hand or
foot to save a body for a short time from the grave ;
and will they not act with similar severity and
self-denial to save soul and body from the pit of
perdition? There is really no loss. The corrupt
member is dead in respect to all advantage from
it ; and your duty is to save the rest of the body
from contamination. Severity in this case will
never be regretted; but leniency may be ever-
lastingly bewailed. Who among the millions in
glory now regret that they parted with an offend-
ing eye or hand or foot? And who among the
millions of the lost does not bewail with ceaseless
outcries the false and cruel leniency which spared
the offending member which ensnared and beguiled
him to destruction ? Alas I the deep and bitter
regrets are unavailing ; no mistakes are remedied,
though many are discovered, in hell.

Reader, does your eye offend you ? Has it not
often led you after vanity ? Delay not to execute
the voice of wisdom. You say, do you, that you
can follow it so far, and turn back when you
please ; that you can give it free scope to range,
and restrain it at pleasure ? Be not deceived. If
the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the

i&dU

CONSEQUENCES OF NEGLECT.

215

ditch. Your next step may occasion a wound
from which you will not recover ; it may confirm
a habit which will leave you as helpless as the
shorn Samson in the hands of the Philistines.
Would you not have your body, freed from cor-
ruption, walk the golden streets of the New Jeru-
salem with elastic step and beaming eye, rather
than, scarred and corrupt, it should lie in the pit
of perdition a prey to the worm that never dies and
to the flame that shall never be quenched ? Then
act to-day , act now, with wise and stern and noble
self-denial ; and, while maintaining unceasing vigi-
lence let your prayer ever be : " Turn away mine
eyes from beholding vanity — and quicken thou
me in thy way."

It"

I f

I
i

)

CHAPTER EX.

" Then shall the King say nnto them on his right hand : Come, ye

blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you

fh>m the foundation of tb« world" Matt, xxv ch. 34 ▼.

In my last appeal I urged upon the sinner the
necessity of casting away every besetting sin,
though as dear as a right eye, to prevent him from
falling into hell ; let me now by an exhibition of
the glory of the righteous on the last day incite
him to every effort to secure his salvation. The
holding of a supreme judicial court in any realm
is an event of some importance ; and awakens a
great interest among those specially concerned in
its proceedings. There, things said and done in
secret are t-^ be brought to light, truth to be elicit-
ed from a mass of contradictory statements,
innocence to be vindicated, and guilt to be exposed
and condemned. There, property is to be restored
or lost to the enrichment or impoverishment of
many : there, character is to be purged from foul
aspersions, or marked with the indelible stains

.iit,..

\}K'^i£^^'jV.\l^U

THE .lUDGMENT.

217

of infamy ; there, the apprehended is to be set at
liberty or descend to the prison house of bondage ;
and there, the accused is to hear the sentence of
life or death from the lips of the presiding judge.
But circumstances may render this court the scene
of unusual excitement and importance. If the
number of the accused is very large, if among
them are persons of the highest rank, if the crimes
laid to their charge are capital offences, if the
penalties are terribly severe, if the presiding judge
is of eminent ability, if there is no appeal from his
decision, and if the concourse of spectators is im-
mensely great — these, all these invest the court
with extraordinary interest. Need I say that the
great supreme court to be held when the genera-
tions of earth have run their course, and in which
heaven, earth, and hell ^re so much interested,
will be invested with all vhe circumstances which
can render it of paramount importance ? " And
I saw," — said a favoured child of earth, elevated in
spirit to behold the wonders of the future — " a
great white throne, and him that sat on it, from
whose face the earth and the heaven fled away ; and
there was found no place for them. 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. And the sea
o

• -

218

URGENT APPEALS.

gave up the dead which were in it, and death and
hell delivered up the dead which were in them, and
they were judged every man according to their
works."

Here were assembled for trial all the descendants
of Adam, men of eyery nation, kindred, tribe and
tongue ; the antediluvians and the postdiluvians ;
the builders of the tower of Babel, and of the
pyramids of Egjrpt ; the ancient Greeks and the
ancient Mexicans ; the central Africans and the
central Polynesians ; the Asiatic and the American,
— a vast multitadft. Among the accused were seen
many who held high rank on earth — emperors,
kings, nobles, statesmen, warriors and philoso-
phers. The charge preferred was rebellion against
heaven as witnessed in daring violation of known
laws, and the habitual abuse of mercies. In the
case of many, the crime assumed an aggravated
form, they having rejected the Son of God com-
missioned by heaven to seek their restoration, and
despised alibis oflfers of reconciliation and pardon.
The punishment announced, where guilt is es-
tablished, is everlasting imprisonment in the pit
of destruction, in the company and subjected to
the reproach and torture of devils. He who is
seated on the throne of judgment is God, the
supreme God» in the person of his Son. From his
decision there can be no appeal. There is no
being above him, and this is his supreme court.

....,.^A,:.

>^•.: - .„_^.;(;^^'JkJl4-il^^.i.

THE JUDGMENT.

219

He is the fountain of wisdom, and cannot err in
judgment. He is the fountain of justice, and can-
not do iniquity. He is the fountain of power, and
resistance to his will is utterly futile. And what
a concourse of spectators I The seats of glory and
the caverns of the damned are vacated. On one
side may be seen the myriad hosts of heaven
arrayed in all their splendor ; and on the other, the
scowling legions of hell, terror-stricken and
despairing.

Header, you and I shall stand our trial at that
great tribunal. The summoned shall not stand
indiscriminately together. The congregated mul-
titudes shall be formed into two great divisions, a
wide space intervening. One shall occupy the
right, and the other the left of the King-judge.
The hosts of heaven, acting as a guard of honcnr,
shall give to each his place, and maintain order.
But how is this early separation before the trial is
begun ? Their spiritual affinities and their outward
appearances enforce and proclaim their relation-
ships, and they naturally and readily segregate
into two vast throngs. The righteous are posted
on the right, the wicked on the left. We turn
our backs upon the left, and look towards the
right. O what magnificence and glory I See I the
King fixes his eyes upon them. Mark I they re-
turn his look. What ineffable joy beams in their
countenances I O to be among them I The sight

, I'

220

URGENT APPEALS.

is enrapturing. Let us draw nearer these glorified
hosts that we may see their beauty, and hear
what joyful words the King shall say unto them.
And may we not enquire —

I. WHO AND WHAT THEY ARE.

They are spoken of as "the sheep," as "the
blessed of the Father" and as "the righteous."
From the throne of judgment they are addressed
as the blessed of the Father ; and an examination
of this high distinction will show that those who
were counted worthy to receive it, have been the
sheep of the chief Shepherd, and have been so
washed and sanctified by the Holy Spirit as to en-
title them to be called "the righteous." What is
implied in this distinguishing appellation ? How
have they been specially blessed by God the
Father?

First, in having received from him the hearing
ear to follow the call of the Son of God. Many
are called, but few obey the call. The calls of
heaven are deemed of less importance and less
urgent than the calls of earth. Obedience is often
promised to the former at a convenient season, but
the latter grow louder and more importunate, and
at last the voice from heaven falls unheeded on the
worldling's ear. Our heavenly Father has blessed
them who obey. The call which they have heard

i^^^fmm^mmm^

wpmmi^^

THE RIGHTEOUS.

221

has penetrated the heart, carrying conviction and
persuasion with it; and like Levi, the publican,
they have risen up, left all, and followed Jesus.
Is it not a favor for the sheep to hear the voice of
the shepherd calling them away from the haunts
of wolves ? Is it not a blessing for the man lost in
the forest to hear the call of him who has gone in
search of him ? Is it not a blessing for the sailor
lost overboard in the midnight storm to hear
the cry from the life-boat pressing back in search
of him, before that, in his despair, he suffers him-
self to sink, to rise no more? This hearing stops
the sinner on the road to destruction, and directs
him in the road to life everlasting. Blessed, in-
deed, are those ears, for they hear.

Second, in restoration to the divine favor.
They were out of the divine favor. They were
children of wrath, even as others. The divine
displeasure rested on them ; and the divine venge-
ance followed them day by day, and would as
surely have consumed them as the fire from
heaven licked up the altar and the sacrifice of
Elijah on mount Carmel. Was it not a blessing
to have the power extended to shield, which had
been stretched out to destroy ? The Father receiv-
ed them into favor. He forgave and forgot their
offences. He turned his anger away from them
and lifted on them the light of his countenance.
The storm gave place to a blissful calm, anger to

li«

222

URGENT APPEALS.

love, and hostility to frient ship. This was the
Father's doing. He opened the door for the return
of the outcast. He employed the persuasive
agencies. He appointed the Intercessor through
whom correspondence could be re-opened ; and
at whose request the sinner was graciously pardon-
ed, and all the follies of a past life blotted out
from the records of heaven. All is peace and
satisfaction. But a higher honor awaited them.

For, Third, the Father blessed them in adopting
them into his family. This was love indeed.
Could he place them higher or nearer to himself?
Because his Son assumed their nature, they who
are saved by him are brought into the same re-
lationship with the Father. They too, are sons ;
and he their Saviour is their elder Brother. It is
the Father's prerogative to adopt, and graciously
and gloriously has he exercised it towards the lost
family of Adam. They shall sit with him at his
table ; they shall reign with him on his throne.
What can the members of this family ever want ?
Shall any be allowed to die when their parent is
the author of life ? Shall they ever suffer hunger
whose Father feeds all animate creation? Shall
they want for shelter whose Father reared the
fabric of the worlds ? What robes shall exceed in
beauty those with which their Father shall adorn
them? What fruits shall equal in sweetness those
which shall be spread upon their Father's table.

.Alii

t* il

THE RIGHTEOUS.

223

What company shall equal theirs in intelligence,
Jefinement of manners, beauty of person, elegance
of dress, sweetness of disposition, and kindness of
heart? And what palace shall excel in splendor
that which they shall occupy as their everlasting
home ? If all this is not a blessing, reader, what
will you call a blessing? All this they held, in
title, from the day of their justification. They
are now assembled to be put in full possession of
their inheritance. The very delay in receiving
the inheritance has been a blessing, for it has fully
prepared them for the enjoyment of it.

Fourth, in the gift of noble courage to confess
Christ before men. The world is in arms against
Christ. It hates and opposes all who boldly con-
fess him. Yet Christ requires a public confession
from all his followers. He declares that all who
are ashamed to own him before men will be dis-
owned by him on the great day. Why should any
be ashamed of Christ ? He is no usurper : he is
no tyrant. He stands unrivalled in his claims to
dominion, and in personal excellencies. Yet the
heart of man is frail when testifying for God, be-
fore the combined opposition of hell and earth,
unless sustained from above. Nicodemus came to
Jesus by night for fear of the reproach of his
countrymen. Peter, the boldest of the apostles,
when left to himself quailed at the look of a servant
maid who charged him with being associated with

224

URGENT APPEALS.

Jesus, but the same Peter, gifted with noble
courage by his heavenly Father, stood unmoved
before an enraged Sanhedrim, confessing hi!>
Master, and reproving an ungodly priesthood.
Thus, too, the noble Daniel looked in with unshaken
nerves upon the lions among whom he was to be
thrown. And how did John Huss and Jerome of
Prague look with calm countenance upon the stake
where their living flesh was to be consumed to
ashes? They asked for strength, and God gave
it. The almighty, everpresent Spirit upheld both
soul and body. The flames had no terrors for
them, while God was in them. And thus, too,
Patrick Hamilton and George Wishart, and all
their noble fellow martyrs on the Continent and in
Britain, endured the torture of death by lire for
the honor of their divine Master. To the same
source must we trace the finnness and the courage
by which many of their fellow countrymen, in the
same holy cause suffered imprisonment, and ban-
ishment, and the loss of every thing dear to them
on earth. Life wati sweet, and the enjoyment of
life precious ; but eternal life was sweeter, and the
pleasures of heaven more precious. But apart
from consequences, they loved a Saviour who
could love them so much as to die to save them,
far too much ever to deny him, come what may.
Notb^'^ag shall separate them from him. And al-
though the church has greatly extended her domain

■ .A.,

THE RIGirTEOUS.

225

in these later days, the world is iniehan<^ed. The
Chinese or the Hindoo, the Mohammedan or the
Jew, or the Papist who at this day embraces the
truth as it is in Jesiiv,, and announces his adherence
to it, must be prepared for the loss of friends and
relatives, and property and home. Who but God
alone can give couraire to leave all that is most
dear on earth, and daily stand the taunts and re-
proaches and persecutions of the enemies of the
faith, for the name of Jesus. And not among
avowed enemies only, but among professed friends
of Christ is noble courage needed. The man who
condemns the fashions of the world n.s subversive
of true religion, and represents a life of faith in
the Son of God as that alone which leads to heaven,
requires great firmness and boldness among a
formal and time-serving people. Who shall stand
up for Christ a living witness of the grace and
love of God to man? To him must God give
"virtue," — that genuine courage which fears God
and nought else beside. Who are these on the
right of the King ? — They are a chosen generation
— a race of heroes — men who have dared to do
and die for Christ, in defiance of all the threats
and violence of hell and its auxiliaries on earth.
God, their Father, blessed them with this spirit ;
and as soon could thev subdue the Most Hi«rh as
the souls upheld by him. To yield was to fall ;
and falling to lose immortality with its crown of

t !1

226

URGENT APPEALS.

glory. Was it not a blessing to be finn. Standing
fast, they won the fight, and grasped the palm of
victory.

Fifth, in receiving the merciful disposition of
their Father. Mercy is a prominent feature in the
divine character. And no sooner does God impart
his Spirit to his adopted children than this feature
becomes developed in them. 'Blessed are the
merciful for they shall obtain mercy.' Deeds of
benevolence and mercy are more observed by
heaven than the children of men generally suppose r
Even a cup of cold water given to a disciple is
neither unnoticed nor forgotten. And in the re-
presentation of the judgment, acts of kindness,
compassion, and generosity are deemed worthy of
special mention, as proofs of attachment to Christ
— and the neglect of them as proofs of indifference
to his cause. A disciple was hungry and they
gave him food ; he was thirsty and they gave him
drink ; he was a stranger and they took him in ;
naked, and they clothed him ; or sick and they
visited him ; or in prison and they came unto him.
The sight of destitution, or distress awakened the
tenderest emotions in their breasts. They could
not look upon the naked, and shut up their bowels
of compassion. They could not turn the hungry
away without food from their doors. They could
not hear of deep suffering without a feeling of
sympathy. The sick and the confined in prison

■Oiililili',;!;-.

THE RIGHTEOUS.

227

were not forgotten because removed from sight.
They had the spirit of their Father. When man
was lost, he sent out to seek and save him. When
the poor and needy cry unto him, he provides for
them. When distressed, he relieves them. When
oppressed, he comforts them. When cast down,
he lifts them up again. AYhen lonely and sorrow-
ful, he visits and cheers them. When abandoned
by man, he befriends them. And when the devils
would make their souls their prey, he comes in to
their rescue, and takes the captives from the
mighty, and the prey from the terrible, and con-
ducts them in safety to a city of everlasting habi-
tations of which he himself is the maker and build-
er. What compassion and generosity can equal
this? Is it not a blessing to be gifted with the
same kind heart ? Is not God perfectly happy ? —
Then every approach in spiritual likeness to him,
is an approach to happiness. The generous dis-
tribution of a benevolent heart, is rewarded by a
harvest of richest satisfaction, irrespective of the
feelings of the benefited. The pleasure of doing
good is a harvest of which no man can rob another.
But this spirit is not only a fountain of joy to the
possessor; it is also streams of happiness to all
around. If it is more blessed to give than to re-
ceive ; still it is blessed to receive. And God has
made, and God will make his children the instru-
ments of his providence and grace in blessing the

228

URGENT APPEALS.

world. Through them he will water the desert
lands ; and for them the wilderness and the solitary
place shall be glad, and the desert rejoice and
blossom as the rose. They are the channels of
mercy through which the waters of salvation shall
reach the very ends of the earth. Is it not a bless-
ing to bring liberty to the bound, hope to the
despairing, life to the dying ? Cast your eyes over
this vast multitude ! See ! there are thousands
and tens of thousands whose faces are beamii::'' a-
the sun. These are they who, animated by a spirit
of love, pity, tenderness, and generosity were co-
workers with God in saving their fellow man.

And now we have seen who they are that occupy
the place of honor on the judgment day. They
are those who have listened to the voice of heaven
in preference to every other — who have heartily
embraced the offer of reconciliation and have been
restored to the divine favor through Christ — who
have been adopted as beloved children into the
family of God — who have had the noble courage
to confess Christ before the world, and obey all
his laws, notwithstanding the opposition and per-
secution of men and devils — and who, with the
spirit of their Father and their Saviour, found their
greatest delight in acts of kindness and works of
mercy. Blessed, thrice blessed, everlastingly
blessed are they. They are "the glory and the
honor of the nations." Once, the scorned and

i.T>_V:J..l(:i.Mi=oli,>t,

THEIR SENTENCE.

229

despised of all ; now, honored in the highest degree.
Once, driven out of the world by the fiery torch of
persecution ; now, exalted to glory at God's right
hand. Once, obscure and forgotten ; now, the be-
held and admired of all creation. Reader, will
you be among them ? Now let us hear —

II. THE JOYFUL WORD ADDRESSED TO THEM.

See ! the King has turned towards them. Glory
adorns his brow. Joy speaks in his attitude and
looks. Hark I he addresses them. " Come " — ^he
exclaims, with features brightened with intensity
of delight, — " ye blessed of my Father I " What
word could be more expressive, more suitable, or
more appreciated in the circumstances than this
precious word of welcome ? The investigation has
closed; every legal step has been taken; each
character has been proved by the best of all testi-
mony, his works ; and the whole number is com-
plete, no one has been overlooked or forgotten,
and no false character has crept in among the
approved — it now remains for the Judge ofBcially
to deliver his sentence. He does so in language
so lucid and forcible that he can neither be mis-
understood nor disregarded. The adoption of this
term indicates that the barriers which enforced a
separation are now removed. A right comprehen-
sion of the nature of these barriers will afford a

mmm

230

URGENT APPEALS.

right appreciation of the present glorious invitation.
' Come near, my ransomed, every legal barrier
is now removed I ' Christ's love was so strong to-
wards his chosen that he would have brought them
at once to his glorious home, but formidable im-
pediments intervened. They had sinned; they
had fallen. The law had reared a wall high as
heaven, because of this, between the Son of God
and t ^ obiects of his regard. A curse had rested
on them Ich prevented all access to their Creator.
Justice had drawn its flaming sword, and denied
them all approach to the tree of life. This was
no feeble law of changeable man — no harmless
curse of a mortal creature — no flexible justice of an
impotent sinner : but the law, the curse, the justice
of the holy, almighty, and unchangeable Jehovah.
Who that beheld them thus kept back, could ever
suppose that they should be brought nigh to God?
He who raised these barriers could alone remove
them ; and his wisdom was found sufficient for the
task, without any detriment to his character, yea
to the brighter display of his matchless perfections.
* I,' said Christ, * will magnify the law and make
it honorable.' Its claims are right, every demand
shall be conceded. It was hard to be made a
curse ; but even here love prevailed ; and he ex-
claimed — ^ Upon me, my Father, be the curse, and
let thy blessing fall on these.' It was done, for
he was nailed to the accursed tree. Justice, too,

THEIR SENTENCE.

231

shall have its due. Sin was committed, suffering
and death must follow. Who will stand the stroke
of divine justice, and suiTive to benefit those for
whom he suffers? Here lies the diflSculty. But
God clothed with humanity can do so. When
justice demanded its victim, 'Here am I,* exclaim-
ed the Lamb of God. ' Awake, O sword — smite !'
cries justice — * death be to him, whoever he be,
that sins or stands for sinners, respect of persons
I have none.' Those towering battlements have
disappeared, and a high- way is prepared for the
ransomed of the Lord — the curse has vanished like
a roll of parchment in the devouring flame — and
justice stands at a distance with sword sheathed,
and bowing, smiles and says ' Pass on I ' It is
God who justifieth, who is he that condemneth? —
* Come, my sanctified, every moral impediment
is wiped away.' God is of purer eyes than to
behold iniquity, and yet he now invites to his
presence those who have been stained with every
species of crime. Here are they who have been
idolators, blasphemers, sabbath-breakers, murder-
ers, drunkards, whoremongers, liars and such
like. How is this? Has God changed? No;
but they are changed. They were such sinners —
but they are washed, and cleansed and sanctified.
No stream that washed the soil of earth could
cleanse them; but their Redeemer opened the
fountain of his blood, and there their souls have

232

URGENT APPEALS.

been made purer than the snow. O precious
fountain — the blood of God's dear Son I What
virtue it must possess when the very men that
shed it were cleansed by it. Who of all earth's
guilty ones ever washed there, and carried away
his stains with him? — Not one. The piercing
eyes of the King can detect no spot in all that
vast assemblage on his right. How perfect the
purification ! His own image shines on every soul.
Draw near, my holy ones, he cries, though sin long
barred your approach, you are sinners no more —
though infirmities often humbled you, you are weak
no more — though short-comings often shamed you,
you shall fail no more — *Thou art all fair, my
love, there is no spot in thee.'

* Come, my glorified, the ghastly form of death
no more haunts your path.' What an enemy was
this? Its terrifying spectre confronted man at
every turn. It walked side by side with him in
the open field. It followed him into his dwelling.
It sat down with him at his table. It lay down
with him on his couch of rest. Its shadow fell on
his most cherished joys ; and into scenes of highest
revelry, it sometimes forced its way, and seized
upon its victim. None could bribe him, — none
could outstrip him. Abhorred by all ; escaped by
none. He bestrided the path of saint and sinner
alike. When the Christian looked forward to his
rest above, to his departed friends, to his glorified

THEIR SENTENCE.

233

Saviour, his grim and ghastly visage looked him
in the face. Many through fear of him were all
their lifetime subject to bondage. Nature shrank
from his approach ; but the believer often found
that his look was more terrible than his grasp. It
seemed to deprive heaven of half its attractions
that it could only be reached after a fell encounter
with this king of terrors. But now the last of the
redeemed have passed his gloomy domains, and
they all can now look back upon the dark and
lonely valley and feel that they shall never enter
it again. The long and dreary night has passed
away, and the everlasting day has come. They
can now approach their King without the pains of
dissolution, without the sight of weeping friends,
without the pangs of separation from dearly-loved
ones. All now owned and loved are with them ;
no other bond is felt. And none are left behind.
" Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away —
for lo ! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone."
' Come, my restored and beautified creation, my
chosen companions for eternity, the grave no
longer intervenes to keep us separate.' The sen-
tence was unalterable, *Dust thou art and unto
dust thou shalt return.' Flesh and blood could
not inherit the kingdom of God, neither corruption
inherit incorruption. The body however dearly
prized and cherished must be left a prey to the
worms. Its beauty must be tarnished — its vitality
p

*^m

234

URGENT APPEALS.

U-\

extinguished ; and all covered out of sight beneath
the clods of the earth. There it has lain for many
long years, for centuries, or millenniums undis-
tinguishable from the earth which surrounded it.
But now, behold the change I A new creation
rises from the dust, fairer and more glorious than
that which , in innocence , trod Eden's garden . The;
harvest has followed the first fruits. Christ's
empty sepulchre is reproduced in the countless
untenanted graves of his redeemed church. And
what a goodly sight ! And what a glorious com-
pany ! Here is creation's fairest blossom destined
never to fade. Never was matter more subtilely
blended, more skillfully combined; its grosser
elements are all expurged, and nature's finest,
purest, swiftest and strongest elements retained.
Bodies spiritual and incorruptible appear. "Awake
and sing, ye that dwell in dust ! " And what shall
they sing ?

" Behold 1 what heavenly prophets sung,

Is now at last fulfilled:
That Death should yield its ancient reign,
And, vanquished, quit the field.

Let Sight exalt her joyful voice.

And thus begin to sing,
O Grave ! where is thy triumph now?

And where, O Death! thy sting?"

Death and the grave were colleagues. The de-
struction of the former is the annihilation of the
latter. The grave fed on the spoils of death, and

„i^'-d A* %

', -ft *4 »■ J

K ..4«xir*-l' 4liveii'^ -,.XMk%

THEIR SENTENCE.

235

dies when death is slain. Those dreaded enemies
are now no more. They have perished. The
redeemed can now obey their Saviour's call in
body as well as in spirit. No open grave, ready
to receive a lifeless body, creates a reluctance to
depart. Just as they are, their King will welcome
them. No power in earth or hell — no law of God
or man — no cause in nature or grace bars their
approach. Therefore let them come ; and in their
coming let divine love receive its brightest triumph
over the law, sin, death, and the grave.

But to whom shall they come ? — To the Lord of
Glory, It is to no earthly monarch however great
and wealthy and powerful. The glory of such is
tarnished, and it has passed as a shadow. But here
is He before whom angels fall, at whose bidding
creation rose, whose right hand controls the uni-
verse, and over whose throne no setting sun shall
ever cast its shadow. Glory uncreated and ever-
lasting surrounds him.

To the God of love. There are no joys com-
parable to those of pure love. To bask in its beams
is to enjoy life. What must it be to approach its
source I Its reflected rays were often inspiriting
to the creature on earth, what must the glorified
feel under the direct glow of its effulgence ? As
the caverns of the rocks are filled by the inrushing
of the tide, as the dwellings of mortals are illumined
by the beams of the rising sun, so shall the souls

236

URGENT APPEALS.

of the righteous be filled and overflow with the
ecstasy of love.

To their Redeemer. His glory shall not over-
power them. It is the voice of their Redeemer.
How shall they look upon him who paid their ran-
som with his blood I They will respond to his
call with alacrity. If his dying love constrained
them to obey on earth where so many things stood
in the way, O how shall his living voice bestir
them, when every impediment is swept away.

To their Husband. The bridegroom has come
to take home his bride. The long-looked for day
has come. Can any call be more welcome than
his? His home is prepared, his attendants are
with him, every needed ceremony has been ob-
served, and now the joyful word — * Come, my be-
loved,' is heard. The bride is ready. With eager
steps she hastes to meet her Lord. Shouts of
welcome rise on every side. Never was there such
a greeting. A ransomed earth and an exulting
heaven blend their voices in one choral anthem
such as creation never heard since its foundations
were laid. To describe the rapture of that song,
as the glorified bride in her snow-white robes bows
before her everlasting Husband and King, baffles
all mortal ingenuity. May you and I, dear reader,
share that rapture !

But ere we leave this scene, look around and
let the circumstances add their weight to the im-

THEIR REWARD.

237

portance of this word, ' Come I * What is now
revealed to sight? — All the glory of heaven, and
all the hoiTors of hell. Who look on? — Angels
and devils, deeply interested on the one hand in
the salvation, and on the other in the destruction
of men. They shall share their joy or their misery,
as they have helped struggling mortals up to glory,
or deluded them to perdition. But who are on
the left ? Ah ! millions of the same race as the
saved. Men great in their day on earth — full of
wealth — intoxicated with pleasure. Men of all
classes and creeds — of all tribes and tongues.
What a contrast do they present in appearance !
No word of welcome to them — no look of love on
them. Terror is depicted on every face. Beneath
them blaze the fires of hell. They await their
sentence of woe with feelings of unutterable an-
guish. With looks of vengeance, the Judge shall
cry to them — " Depart ye cursed ! " They know
it, they anticipate it. Can mortal tongue describe
the value of this one word, * Come I * at such a
time — from such a Judge? The fiat that gave
birth to worlds alone can claim a place beside it.
Be it yours, reader, to secure it to thyself on that
great day.

III. THEIR REWARD.

They have come — ^they have received a joyful
welcome, what now awaits them? — A Kingdom.

■■IIIURIW

wwmrnv^

wmmm

238

URGENT APPEALS.

* Ye blessed of my Father, come I inherit the King-
dom prepared for you from the foundation of the
world.' What is this kingdom? It is the undis-
turbed reign of divine principles in the soul ; grace
ripened into glory ; God reigning in the glorified
spirit. It is the possession of a celestial country,
an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled and fading
not away. It is the special domain of the immortal
King Immanuel where his redeemed subjects shall
behold his glory and for ever enjoy his presence.
There no error shall contend with truth — no sin
with the principle of love to God. There the
disinherited on earth shall regain an ample posses-
sion. There the oppressed on earth shall enioy
perfect freedom. If the Christianized kingdo n
earth affords privileges to the citizen far in advance
of those enjoyed by a citizen of an idolatrous
country, how much more shall the glorious king-
dom of heaven presided over by Christ himself
exceed in advantages anything seen on earth. As
a state of being, it is blissful ; as a home and in-
heritance, it is most desirable and valuable ; as a
government under which the creature must live,
it is perfect and preferable to any other that can
be conceived. All this the reward of the righteous
embraces. And this they have not by purchase,
but by inheritance. They have become heirs by a
connexion with him who purchased it. As the
adopted children of God they are heirs ; and as

C -.(.■^''Iw. 'U.^i'r4c«i£*£^vi.ia> rJ^

THEIR REWARD.

239

united to Christ they are "joint-heirs " with him.
Their claims, however long laughed at on earth,
are now confirmed by the supreme court of heaven.
Who shall prevent their entrance into possession ?
Who shall disturb them when possessed ? They
have defrauded none. None are impoverished by
their enrichment? This kingdom was prepared
for them , from the foundation of the world . When
the Most High drew the outlines of creation and
planned the frame-work of the worlds, he marked
out one central region where the magnificent and
the beautiful, the precious and the good would re-
ceive their brightest development, and display their
highest glory. That region wc call Heaven. Its
special adornment, as the abode of redeemed and
glorified humanity, was left to the God-man Jesus
Christ after he had accomplished his mission of
mercy to earth. Where is this glorious region,
this happy abode ? We cannot here point out that
favoured world. Our eyes were not formed for
such discoveries. Some have supposed that the
final abode of the righteous would be our purified
world. But against this a thousand arguments
militate. Heaven now is. Why should it be
abandoned, at the last day, for such a limited sub-
lunary sphere as our present abode, however free
from sin. Earth, in all her arrangements, was
made for a race of flesh and blood, of increase and
change ; and not only would the globe itself require

240

URGENT APPEALS.

a thorough transformation, but the system to which
it belongs must be radically changed before the
glories of heaven could in the smallest degree be
realized. For all this there is no necessity. Je-
hovah's empire is not so small that he must pull
down our paltry dwelling, before he erects his
magnificent palace for the occupation of his redeem-
ed family. Let us dismiss this subject. Heaven
is now prepared by our exalted Redeemer ; and its
actual glories far exceed anything which mortal
eye has seen or human heart has conceived. Into
its unending bliss the King-judge shall conduct
the righteous, wher tho transactions of the great
day have been brought to a close.

Reader, will you be one of that honored com-
pany? You hope so. But on what does your
hope rest ? Is the foundation so firm that it will
stand the shock of death ? You would like to hear
the bliss -imparting word, *Come,' addressed to
you on that day so awful to many. But do you
now hear the word, 'Come,' addressed to you?
The same voice speaks. To the same glory he
calls ; but time now rolls its ensnaring scenes
around you, and you perhaps are deaf to his
gracious invitation. Remember that the call to
to the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness
must be obeyed, before the call to enter glory can
be heard. Hear the present, 'Come,* and you
shall hear the future — disregard the present, and

mtmi

mm.

THEIR REWARD.

241

the future shall never be extended to you. You
know that the citizenship of this country is pre-
ferable to that of any other, why not try and se-
cure it? You know that the reward of this King
is incomparably superior to that bestowed by any
mortal monarch, why not try and obtain it ? Others
have tried and have succeeded, and so may you.
They had not one advantage more than you. They
had their evil habits, their evil companions, their
worldly pursuits, their cherished pleasures, but
they gave them up at the sight of this great prize.
They took Christ at his word, and promptly left
all and followed him. Do you the same. The
same promise is to you — the same help is offered
you. Now arise and go — just as you are. See !
heaven is before you. Its gates are opened. You
may reach it, and enter in. Linger not a moment
longer. O come away, there is room foi you yet I

CHAPTER X.

C^e Pome of tlje |leireemtit.

"Thy sun shall no more eo down; neither shall thy moon withrlraw

itself; for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days

of thy mourning shall be ended." Isaiah lx ch. 20 v.

It is fitting that these fervent appeals to flee
from the wrath to come, addressed in so many
forms to the unconverted sinner, should be con-
cluded by a picture of the felicity and glory to
which he shall attain if he will obey the warning
voice of God. To some who, convinced of sin and
impending wrath by the foregoing pages, have fled
to Christ, and are now pressing forward in their
heaven- ward course, this sight of home and rest
and bliss above will infuse fresh energy, courage
and ardour, and enable them to trample upon the
temptations and corruptions which now threaten
to retard their progress. Others, it may be, are
hesitating what course to adopt. They feel in
measure their guilt — they know in part their dan-
ger. But considerations of present loss deter them
from taking the only path of safety. They need

■■p

HEAVEN.

243

such an argument as this subject affords. The
gospel offers not only deliverance from danger, but
also the possession of bliss. It brings present
joy, and holds out the certainty of future, unutter-
able glory. Does any hesitating sinner ask me,
in reply to my urgency — 'Whether would you
lead me ? ' I answer — Home — to glory — ^to God.
Does he yet interrogate — ' And what shall I have ?'
— I answer : all that your heart can wish — all
that your nature can enjoy — all that your capacity
can receive. Does he now respond — * I pray you,
describe to me this home, and unfold to me its
glory ? ' I reply — most readily, and to the full ex-
tent of the ability given, but O, my utmost efforts
will fall far shoil; of its indescribable attractions —
for eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it
entered into the heart of man to conceive the things
which God hath prepared for them that lo\ o him.
The home of the redeemt is called a ' House.'
'In my Father's house' said Jesus, uro many
mansions.' It is a house, for one roof covers it
notwithstanding its vast dimensions ; it is occupied
by one family; and it is presided over by one
Father. It is the Father's house for it was nade
by him, and he dwells in it. As his palace it ex-
hibits all that is commodious and beautiful — all
that is adapted and pleasing. Its many man.Mous
are prepared for a countless multitude of ransomed
souls who will yet form but one household, and

244

URGENT APPEALS.

such a household — so harmonious and contented,
so loving and happy. In its varied apartments,
each varying capacity, from the infantile to the
seraph-like intellect can find its appropriate sphere.
Here are enjoyed in perfection the safety and the
quiet, the abundance and the health, the confi-
dence and the love which constitute the essential
elements of a happy home.

It is called a ' Paradise.' ' To-day,' said the dy-
ing Saviour, to the penitent thief, ' shalt thou be
with me in Paradise.' The word signifies a plea-
sure garden. In some parts of even this sin -stained
world, there are gardens of surpassing beauty,
enjoying perennial summer. There fragrant odours
are wafted on every breeze, flowers are ever bloom-
ing, and trees are ever green. What then must
be the loveliness of the celestial paradise ? Planted
by the hand of God, how perfect its arrangement,
how choice its trees, how luscious its fruits, how
gorgeous its flowers, and how fragrant its odours !
Its location is the centre of creation ; it enjoys
eternal summer ; and it is watered by the river of
life which flows from the throne of God. O to
walk with loved ones from earth through its sinless
arbors, along the banks of its crystal stream, and
gather its blooming flowers aud luscious fruits,
holding converse with angels, and enjoying the
presence of even God himself !

It is called a 'City.' * And he v^arried mo away

HEAVEN.

245

in the spirit,' says one, — to whom were vouclisafed
higher visions of future glory than to any other son
of earth, — Ho a great and high mountain, and
showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem de-
scending out of heaven from God, having the glory
of God.* Its site is unequalled, being built upon
the Mount of glory, and far removed from the
darkness and storms and shakings of earth. Its
materials are of the most costly description. The
foundations are of precious stones — the gates of
pearls, and the streets of pure gold. Its grand
characteristic is its holiness. Sin cannot enter
there. And hence it is never disturbed by war
nor famine nor pestilence. Its inhabitants all wear
robes of white, to manifest their purity, and crowns
upon their heads, to show their dignity. They
are never diminished by deaths nor increased by
births. All the relationships of earth are absorbed
in one grand relationship to their Redeemer King,
which at the same time binds them to each other
in the bonds of purest love. Though ever occupied,
they never weary, as they breathe the atmosphere
of immortality. They arc ever happy, and they
give utterance to their joys in unceasing songs of
praise to the author of their salvation. Every day
is a feast day, and yet there is no voluptuousness.
Perfect freedom is enjoyed, yet every action is
regulated by the will of their King. Poverty is
unknown, yet none are proud. Though all are

246

URGENT APPEALS.

kings, yet all are servants to the King of kings.
And together they walk the streets of their golden
city, while he leads them to living fountains of de-
light, and reveals to them the unsearchable glories
of the Godhead. As their knowledge is increased,
their capacity for glory is increased ; and so their
eternity rolls its endless round of ever-growing
bliss. O child of earth, dwelling in a cottage of
clay, wilt thou not choose this city for thine ever-
lasting home.

It is also called a ' Country.' Paul declares that
the patriarchs confessed that they were strangers
and pilgrims on the earth, and argues that such
a declaration implies that they were still in search
of * a country,' a better than that from which they
came or in which they were sojourning, ' that is an
heavenly.' This is " the far-off Land," — " Imman-
uel's Land." — " the Kingdom of glory." No narrow
limits confine it, for its area exceeds human com-
putation. Its plains are rich, and its scenery
glorious. Its climate is e. hilirating and delight-
ful. No freezing blasts sweep over it — no deadly
sirocco blasts it. No enemy approaches it — no
destroyer lurks within it. Its inhabitants never
grow old, and none complain of sickness. It is
pre-eminently the "Happy Land." To it the
passage at the head of this chapter refers. The
King of the Country addressing a pilgrim whom he
is conducting to that better land says : — "Thy sun

;

ITS ETERNAL DAY.

247

shall no more go down ; neither shall thy moon
withdraw itself; for the liord shall be thine ever-
lasting light, and the Jays of thy mourning shall
be ended." What f.nimating, what cheering words !
They describe two of the great attractions of that
upper world : its eternal day, and its eternal bliss.
This, fellow mortal, groping in the shades of night
and weeping in the vale of tears, is the world to
which I would conduct you. May I not claim
your heart with your* attention while I unfold to
you the glories of —

I. ITS ETERNAL DAY.

Terms are employed which refer to the present
condition of our planet. Two great luminaries
aflford us light, the sun by day, the moon by night.
Yet we have not perpetual light, for the moon does
not always take the place of the sun, and its light
at best cannot constitute day. But if both sun and
moon poured continuously their rays of light on
any particular portion of earth, that portion would
enjoy perpetual day. The idea, then, intended to
be conveyed by the language is — ^that country shall
never be enveloped in the gloom of night, but shall
be clothed with the beams of eternal day. But
let not the inhabitant of earth, familiar with the
light of sun and moon, imagine that the created
light of the one or the reflected light of the other
will illumine this upper world. It lies far beyond

) ^

-'u^i I vvm K

iiipipraffPlfnN^j

248

URGENT APPEALS.

our solar system, and is neither regulated nor in-
fluenced by the natural laws which conserve that
system. Jehovah himself is its everlasting light.
What need of sun or moon, with its limited and
diminishable glory, when the (Creator of countless
suns and moons is present in his transcendant
effulgence. Blend all the suns of the galazy into
one — even the superlative splendor of that lumi-
nary would be lost in the infinite brilliance of
Jehovah's person. This is 'heaven's light — uncre-
ated, undiminishable, immovable and therefore
everlasting. Rotatin,''^ on no axis, but stablished
by the decree of the Uuchangable, that world shall
never turn from the glory that illumines it, nor
shall that glory ever depart from it. Here per-
petual day would not be desirable, for both mind
and body are wearied by labor, and require the
rest and repose of night to restore their vigour.
But there, there is no toil to induce weariness,
life never loses its elasticity; exercise enfeebles
no faculty, and repose is sought by none. The
glories of the eternal day may be seen —

First, in the life which its light develops. Our
sun on its annual return draws out into fresh life
the whole vegetable world. The gardens, the
fields, and the forests all burst the bonds of sterility,
and put forth their verdure. New branches appear
on the trees and fresh shoots spring from the soil.
The insect world comes forth as if from the tomb.

.MiVlMtk^LA. ,M,. _:.

•", f Mi'

ITS ETERNAL DAY.

249

Earth, air, and water teem with countless myriads.
The higher animals feel the glow of new life, and
roam abroad to satisfy their wants. Even man
himself is stimulated by the rays of a vernal sun,
and the languishing constitution often revives, the
strong delight in the exercise of their energy,
and the enterprising find life in their activity. If
such effects are produced by the beams of our
material sun on the physical life of earth, what
will be the effect of the rays of the Sun of right-
eousness on the spiritual life of heaven? Will
they not stimulate and develop it? The life
there manifested from the lowest sanctified human
intelligence to the highest archangel had its origin
in that light. Where it rests death cannot be, for
life springs forth. And while it shines, the life
which it originated continues to expand and grow.
In its beams life enjoys its native atmosphere —
nothing retards its progress, and all its latent ener-
gies are fostered. On earth the same sun which
developed physical life, often withers it — scorching
the tender herb, killing the animal with thirst,
and striking down in its noon-tide powers the
feeble frame of man. But no burning heat is
blended with the light of this upper world. The
effulgence of Jehovah's glory rests with measured
power on all its inhabitants. It ever quickens —
it never blasts. The earthly sun retires from year
to year, and suffers desolation and death to resume

K^^m

tiwn'nuvBinvcRqjj. JUL ji "RiCTlwenMRp

250

URGENT APPEALS.

their places ; but the spiritual lumin'^ry of heaven
never recedes from that favored land, and hence
no corresponding calamities can ensue. Life, full,
expanding, exuberant, everlasting is the natural
offspring of the Sun of ughteousness.

Second, in the knowledge which its light reveals.
Light reveals to us external nature. What we
know of its immens^tv or its limitations, of its
grandeur or its simplicity, of its symmetry or its
deformity is seen in the beams of light. The ever-
lasting light of the heavenly world is the source of
all knowledge to its inhabitants. In his light they
see light. He reveals himself. No idea of his
glory can be formed except by the light which
emanates from his person. Over all the objects
of glory there he will ever be infinitely pre-eminent,
and afford a subject of devout and admiring con-
templation through eternity. By his brightness
the whole heavenly country in all its loveliness and
attractiveness shall be brought to view. Here
then will be ample scope for investigation and the
joyous acquisition of knowledge. The light will
not be dim — ^the research will not be painful — and
the discovery will not be saddening. Investigation
with the light of Jehovah will be pleasing, en-
gaging and enriching. But not this happy land
only but creation in its widest range will open its
doors for the contemplation of ** the saints in light."
Under the tuition of the great Illuminator, what

r- /

mmm

ITS ETERNAL DAY.

251

wonders will be unfolded to the gaze of his devoted
students. Mysteries will be solved in a moment
which the investigation of unaided human reason
for ages could not unravel. The changes to which
our earth was subjected before it became the abode
of man, the peculiarities and uses of each of the
planets of our system, the place which the system
holds in connection with others, the extent and
grandeur and purposes of other systems, and the
laws by which these masses of matter act and re-
act and conserve each other, will be no longer
subjects of doubtful disputation. The great Art-
ificer will show when and how the machinery was
put together, how its movements are regulated,
and what ends it subserves. The book of provi-
dence will be opened, and with the light now falling
upon its pages it will be seen how angels and man,
sinless and sinning, have been governed. What
was inexplicable on earth will now be most plain.
In all things the Lord's character will appear un-
tarnished by the slightest deviation from the prin-
ciples of truth and holiness. Light will be cast on
the grand problem why sin was allowed to enter
the creation of a holy and almighty God. It wiU
be seen that this, the essence and source of aU
disorder and misery, was permitted and controlled
for the grandest of all ends, the glory of God ; and
that even in its management the Most Holy remain-
ed uncontaminated. But it is in the retrospect of

•s«"^i

•^m^vtimti^Jiifmmm i i|,|p

252

URGENT APPEALS.

the dealings of grace, as examined in the light ot
glory, that the profoundest gratitude and admira-
tion will be evoked among the redeemed from
earth. The wrath to which they were exposed —
the price of their pardon — their personal guilt —
the time and means of their awakening and con-
version — the train of agencies by which they were
preserved-!— the necessity for their various trials
and the blessed effects of them — ^the perils from
which they were on different occasions rescued,
with the time and circumstances of their removal
from earth, will all now be comprehended with a
clearness and fullness un .tt^mable in the dim con-
ceptions of time . Such ip a glimpse of the glorious
knowledge which the eternal day will reveal.

Third, in the beauty which its light creates.
Is there beauty on earth ? — ^There is. In the even-
ing sky of summer, in the rainbow, in the dew-
drop, in the pearl, in the blooming flower, and in
the human face in the glowing days of youth,
there is real beauty — yet all this is attributable to
light. Is there beauty in heaven? Yes; there
the perfection of beauty is. In its house of many
mansions, in its blooming paradise, in its golden
oily, and in its glorious country, every shade of
physical beauty finds its place. Yet all this beauty
had its origin in him who is its everlasting light.
He himself is the essence of beauty ; and he has
transferred his own image to all the inhabitants of

ITS ETERNAL DAY.

253

his chosen abode. Their purified spirits, like the
sea of glass which John saw before the throne, re-
flects the image of Him who sits upon that throne.
O 1 heaven is the home of beauty — there is neither
physical nor moral deformity there. Every thing
is beautiful, and every one is beautiful ; and all is
created and disclosed by the glorious light of Je-
hovah. On earth beauty fades with time and
fading light ; but in the upper world time never
passes, for it is unknown, and light never fades,
for it is everlasting. Does the sight of beauty
occasion delight? What must be the delight of
heaven where everything beheld is beautiful ? O
what transformations are there I The charcoal has
become the diamond indeed. Spirits found in the
mire of sin, there shine with the brightness of the
sun for ever. And some who had been the abject
slaves of Satan on earth, now vie in beauty with the
noblest of the sons of light. O lovers of the
beautiful in nature and in morals, seek this as your
eternal home ! And,

Fourth, in the joy which that light imparts.
* Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it
is for the eyes to behold the sun.' How welcome
the return of morning to the lonely night-watcher
on the dark and stormy sea I The dwellers in the
north hail the return of the sun, after their long
bleak n^ght, with joyful exclamations. Take the
sun from our world, and you close ten thousand

y;*W!;.-d:...».V.;AM4.irt><«»< I W'ti>JT « i>itf»MIW»*.«A™iWl '^ i-:?;^:W«?aj.U>;i:

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254

URGENT APPEALS.

sources of delight. The Sim of heaven is the great
fountain of its joy. Every soul on which it shines
is enraptured. In its beams unnumbered millions
bask with uuL^Angled pleasure. None are so re-
mote, or so secluded, as to be unblessed with this
joy. It is free, continuous, full and overflowing
to all. To walk in this light is to be transported
with joy. Hence those that march the golden
streets with Jehovah's glory beaming upon them,
cannot refrain from loudest acclamations of praise.
How precious that light ! How happy that land I
— O to be there I There is no night there. They
have no need of lamp such as that by which at
midnight I am now writing. Their sun never
goes down. And with their endless day is their
endless joy.

Here are the glories of the eternal day ; life pure,
free, expanding, indestructible — knowledge pro-
found, precious, engaging, pleasurable — beauty
universal, glorious, perfect, charming — and joy
full, holy, rapturous and everlasting. But of this
joy we must speak more at length, as it has re-
ceived special mention.

II. ITS ETERNAL BLISS,

" And the days of thy mourning shall be ended."
The terms imply that the person addressed had his
days of mourning. And who among all the chil-

ITS ETERNAL BLISS.

255

dren of earth has been exempt from affliction and
sorrow? — Not one. From the cries of infancy to
the dying groans of old age, human life is marked
by constant recurrences of grief. To many life is
a journey through a vale of tears. Others enjoy
more sunshine and comfort ; but the dashing storms
of affliction cross every path trodden by sinful
mortals. Few and sorrowful are the days of man
on eai-th. This heavenly pilgrim is assured by his
guide that his days of mourning shall be ended.
Why did he mourn ?

First, he mourned for his sins. There is nothing
that demands grief like sin. It is the greatest
folly and the greatest wrong. It is an oflfence
against God and an injury to man. It kills the
body and the soul. It blasts the peace, the hopes
and the happiness of the rational being for time
and eternity. Grace opens the eyes to see the
nature of sin, as well as its consequences. Then
follow sadness, sorrow, tears, anguish. The soul
is bruised, torn and rent. It bewails its condition
and laments its folly. And although the fountain
of mercy washes the sins of the penitent away, it
leaves behind a contrite heart ; and this tenderness
of spirit is frequently wounded by contact with
the corruptions of earth. How bitterly did the
pilgrim mourn before the fetters of sin were
broken ; and before he dared hope that one so vile
as he was welcomed in the arms of mercy ! And

256

URGENT APPEALS.

how often, after passing the stmit gate, were his
hopes overcast, and from the darkened sky tears
of sorrow fell because the voice of the tempter had
successfully allured, and the path to life had been
left, and the forbidden fruit had been tasted !
Ah I there is a mourning for sins after conversion
peculiarly melting, peculiarly bitter. But O this
mourning shall be ended, and for ever. Ere long
the last step is taken in this sin-stained world, and
the soul enters a region undefiled by guilt.
There no omission, no transgression, no shortcom-
ing, no imperfection ever occasions the slightest
uneasiness, for all obey perfectly the will of their
God. Sorrow for sin has passed away.

Second, under the violence of temptations.
Earth is a battle-ground to the Christian. He has
foes within and foes without. The struggle is
often desperate. Antagonistic principles contend
within him for the mastery. Wherever he goes
he has an enemy in his bosom which is ready to
take advantage of seasons of weakness or facilities
for indulgence in sin. On either hand fascinating
allurements press upon him, and distract him by
their powerful suggestions. And numerous spi-
ritual adversaries unseen throng his path, at times
obstructing his progress, or shrouding him in thick
darkness, terrifying by alarms or wounding by
showers of fiery darts in the shape of vile and
blasphemous thoughts. On other occasions they

■Rvn^pwpiflnMiiNviMnnmwiqpfMipnivvmm

■vappcuana

ITS ETERNAL BLISS.

257

combine their forces to hurry him away from the
way of life to the bleak and rugged wilds of de-
spair, or crowed him into a pit of corruption near
which his path may lay. Harrassed, wearied,
wounded, bleeding he may be seen pressing slowly
forward, in heaviness through manifold tempta-
tions, and sighing for the time when he shall leave
for ever the domains of the prince of darkness.
Fainting soldier of the cross cheer up, the days of
thy mourning shall be ended ! You will soon bo
beyond the reach of devils and all their fiery darts.
The enemy within shall be expelled ; and you shall
go where the foes without cannot follow you. All
danger shall be over. You shall hear the sound
of the trumpet and the clash of arms no more. No
enemy shall be there. Peace, everlasting peace
shall reign all around.

Third, for the wickedness of men. The children
of God share in the feelings of God. What these
feelings are, in respect to the sinful conduct of
men, there can be no doubt. God is said to have
been "grieved at his heart" — that is deeply, in-
tensely, — 1 ecause of the intolerable wickedness of
the old world. Jesus beheld with grief the human
heart persistently resisting his gracious words, and
wept over self-blinded and impenitent Jerusalem.
The Israelites are charged with habitually, and
from age to age, vexing and grieving the Holy
Spirit. And how felt those who were made " par-

I':

; i:

258

URGENT APPEALS.

takers of the divine nature?" Lot vexed his
righteous soul from day to day in seeing and hear-
ing the shameless wickedness of Sodom. The man
after God's own heart says : " Rivers of waters
run down mine eyes because they keep not thy
law." Jeremiah, the pathetic and patriotic prophet
and preacher, after exhorting to repentance and
confession, exclaims ; " If ye will not hear it, my
soul shall weep in secret places for your pride."
Ezekiel tells us that God marked as his own, "the
men that sighed and cried for all the abominations
which were done in Jerusalem." And Paul could
not write of the enemies of the cross of Christ,
who gloried in their shame and minded earthly
things, without "weeping." The reason is obvi-
ous. They are identified in spirit and life with the
cause of holiness ; and they cannot see God dis-
honored and man ruined, by the prevalence of sin,
without the deepest sorrow. Would that there
was more of this feeling in the church of Christ !
No believer, in a right state, can see or hear what
is sinful without his nature being shocked, and his
grief awakened ; and the more holy, heavenly and
Christ-like he is, the more keenly will he feel, and
the more deeply will he mourn. And where can
the pilgrim turn his eye on earth without meeting
sin in some form ! Often the relative, the neigh-
bour, or the friend may be the object of deep
though silent grief, because of the manifest do-

■p

w^^mmm

ITS ETERNAL BLISS.

259

f I

minion which sin has over him. So long as earth
lies fettered, degraded and dying under this vile
scom*ge, so long will the pilgrim mourn for its
condition, as he passes through it to the better
land. But there no sinner is found. No thought,
word nor deed is defiled by the curse of earth.
Amid all the intercourse of redeemed millions no
light nor sound offensive or grieving is ever seen
or heard. The wicked neighbour, the ungodly
relative, and the carnal professor awaken sadness
no more. The state of the lost is sealed; and
their condition begets no sorrow although among
them may be many who were near and dear on
earth. All sympathy for any suffering the wrath
of Jehovah is absolutely eradicated under the over-
whelming conviction of the justice, necessity, and
propriety of their sentence. Instead of mourning
for the lost, they are absorbed in rejoicing for the
saved. And lastly.

Fourth, from the pressure of afflictions and
bereavements. Faith in Christ does not exempt
from the ordinary trials of humanity. It may
even occasion some peculiar additional troubles,
"In the world," said Christ, "ye shall have tribu-
lation." Hence, the believer may be seen oppress-
ed with poverty, languishing in sickness, driven
from home or country by persecution, or desolate
by domestic bereavements. He may have a large
share of trouble and sorrow on earth. But oh !

"W"^"

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260

URGENT APPEALS.

the days of his mourning shall be ended, and that
right early too, for " he that shall come, will come
and will not tarry." His affliction, which is light
compared with the woes in store for the wicked,
and but for a moment when contrasted with eter-
nity, shall prove instrumental in preparing him
for an immeasurably great and eternal weight of
glory. Poor, it may be, on earth, rich in heaven.
A slave to man here, a child of God there. Racked
with ever-recurring pains in a mortal body below,
clothed with glorious immortality above. Hiding
in dens and caves from the wrath of man here,
sitting on thrones of light under the smile of Je-
hovah there. On earth weeping for loved ones
gone no more to return, in heaven rejoicing for
ever in their company. O earth, earth, who would
tarry in thy dreary, sorrowful domains, when the
portals of heavenly glory are opened before him !

The night is past, and the eternal morn is come.
Farewell, a long farewell to earth and all its trou-
bles. Gone by are sins defilements, Satan's tempt-
ations, man's provocations, and mortality's afflic-
tions ; and in their room have come purity and
peace, honor and immortality. Eternal bliss per-
vades eternal day.

Christians ! this is your home — think of it —
press forward to it — prepare for it.

Sinners ! where shall your home be ? In the
light of heaven or in the gloom of hell — in the joys

f !

p^^«^-^

I I ifi p ^mmr^r

ITS ETERNAL BLISS.

261

of paradise or in the woes of perdition ? O re-
member that as you live, so shall you die. Tarry
a little longer in the shades of unbelief, and dark-
ness will settle down upon you, and you shall
never find the path to life. O once more would I
hold the lamp of truth over that path and cry —
Rise sinner and flee from the wrath to come. See
you that narrow gate, haste thither, and knock as
one that must get in or perish on the spot, and it
shall be opened to you. From that gate you shall
see a way, the highway, the way of holiness where-
in the redeemed walk ; by taking it you shall leave
sorrow and sighing behind ; you shall obtain joy
and gladness ; and your path, being that of the
just, shall grow brighter and brighter until ere
long you shall reach Mount Zion, the heavenly
Jerusalem, where everlasting glory shall sur-
round you.

To assist the memory in retaining the bright
conceptions of this chapter let me express in
verse —

A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN.

Land of liberty ! Land of light !
Thy brilliant plains enchain my ravished sight :
How have I longed thy cloudless sky to see,
While treading Earth's dark vale of misery!

How sweet the fragrance from thy scented bowers I
How bright the radiance from thy snow-white towers !

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>-^l^' '.^ BJUJ AP.il." ^ ■

262

URGENT APPEALS.

Thy fields how fair ! thy foliage how green !
Profusely watered by life's crystal stream.

No winter sweeps thee with its chilling blasts,
No gloomy night on thee its shadows casts,
No pestilence can tinge thy gorgeous flowers,
No shade of death in all thy arbors cowers.

But see ! yon groups that stand in garments white.
Their faces beaming with resplendent light ;
Their actions, movements all, proclaim that love
Sustained by bliss most pure, prevails above.

And hark ! what thrilling notes, what rapturous sounds,
As throng on throng that glorious Throne surrounds ;
Now, voices blending in one chorus rise.
And Jesus' name is heard 'mid rending skies.

child of Earth ! care-worn and stained with sin,
Ev'en ihou^ by faith and prayer, these realms may win ;
Rise, rise^ and seek thy native Heaven to-day^
And let sin's snares no more thy steps delay.

Reader, is all this glory in store for you? —
May our most gracious God bless these urgent
appeals for your soul's salvation I

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