do you think of the remaining progress from this point, with the realities in prospect, shall we say, rising higher and larger, and more majestic above the horizon of your view? Consider too, that whatever the world and time could have given you from the first, they can at all events give you much less now, and what is sooner to be taken away.

When, and by what, shall this sad indifference be broken up and leave you? Would you quietly wait for some alarming dispensation of Providence to do it? to be admonished as Pharaoh was, in vain? Would you wait till some heavy affliction? till some disaster in your worldly affairs? till another dear relative or friend shall die? till a severe sickness, with imminent threatenings of death? Can you be content to wait for such visitations? and with the perfect certainty that, if they should come, and should effectually alarm you out of this indifference, that alarm will be mingled with an aggravated remorse, and indeed will very much consist of it? remorse especially to think that “the goodness of God" has not "led to repentance ?”

But have no such visitations come to you already? What was their effect? Are you to be so much more sensible to the impressions of the next? or do you wish them to be tenfold more severe ? If you can wish so, the interest for which you wish So, must be most urgent! But if it be so urgent, why neglected now? Consider, besides, that the next severe visitation may be the last of life;-may be a fatal disaster;—-may be a mortal illness! Or, would you wait for old age? What! because it is confessedly a great moral miracle for a man careless till old age, to be awakened then! Or, will a man profane a Christian doctrine, and say, The Spirit of God alone can be efficacious, and he must quietly wait for that? This is saying, in effect, that he will make a trial with Omnipotence, and resist as long as he can! And how can

he anticipate any other than a destructive energy from that Spirit upon him, while he is trifling with, and frustrating truth-conviction-warnings-and emotions of conscience! while he is repelling all these minor operations of that Spirit, instead of earnestly praying for the greater! It were most wicked thus to pretend a reverence for the ultimate powers of the Divine Spirit, and at the same time make light of what comes from that Spirit already.

How dreadfully obstinate a state is this careless indifference! But nevertheless we can imagine situations under the force of which it must give way! Imagine them! but that is not all:-we are certain to be in one or other of them, sometime? Happy will it be, if the love of Christ shall effectually constrain us;-if there be a prevailing impression that our affections and powers are due to him; that we must do something for him, and his great cause, while we are on earth. Happy! if an ardent desire of heaven;-happy! even if the thought of the "terrors of the Lord," should contribute to persuade us! But though all these should fail, and leave us indifferent still, there will be in reserve, that which cannot fail,-situations and circumstances of irresistible power! And can a man calmly refer himself to these! Can a man say, "I know I must awake from this indifference at last-I will indulge it till then!" "Here is a dull, stupified state of soul, but there will be blows upon it so mighty as to make it quiver with the intensest feeling!""I am making light of anticipations; -well, the realities will come!"- "Here I am, easily soothing my conscience;—well, it is but that it may rise upon me with tremendous strength! "Now I am

lightly dismissing, or evading a solemn and alarming reflection;-well, it goes away but to come back as if transformed into an avenging spirit!""I am dissipating my mind upon trifles,—be it so,—a tempest will arise which

will blast them all away!".

"I am now but in order to what I shall be then; what I shall be then will remind me of what I am now!"-Such a man can now put in words some of the sentiments, the reflections, the emotions, which his earnestness may breathe itself in, in the hour of death. Let him do it; and then say whether there be any thing possible or conceivable in this world that he should be so anxious for, as that he may not so be in earnest at that hour. This is the appeal to Fear, a just and salutary appeal; but think, how strange it is, that it should be necessary to lay the emphasis here; when that which the soul is called and excited to be in earnest for is an infinite good!—deliverance from all evil-salvation-eternal blessedness! Here are objects of mightiest attraction for the better passions, and, yet it is necessary to work by fear! as if mere escape, and impunity, and safety, were all! as if it were no good for ourselves, and only to please or pacify a power to which we are in subjection! What a manifestation of the fallen state of our nature!

Finally, let us beware of the delusive feeling as if indifference, however prolonged, had still nothing in it of the nature of a decision; as if it were but remaining in a kind of suspension and protracted equipoise. Are we insensible that an additional weight is falling all the while on the other side, by mere time itself which is going, particle by particle, to the wrong;-by irreligious habit, which is growing stronger and stronger;-and by negation, refusal, all the while, of what is claimed by the higher interest? We decide against that which we refuse to adopt. So that prolonged indifference is decision so far; and indifference to the end will but be decision completed!

October 3, 1822.

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LECTURE XVI.

NO CONCEALMENT FOR THE WICKED.

JOB XXXIV. 22.

"There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves."

"The workers of iniquity." A general idea of the character so described, is instantly formed in every mind; the thoughts do not stay upon the mere description; the actual substance, the exemplification, is too conspicuous.

But the text marks a special circumstance in their character, namely, that they are men who wish, or will wish, to hide themselves-that there is that in their dispositions and practice which they wish concealed from all knowledge and judgment. They would be delighted, inexpressibly, by the assurance of a veil of eternal darkness.

But why so? for this is contrary to the social nature of man, that loves communication, confidence, and sympathy. And, also, is it not strange that a man should wish to be, for ever, accounted other than he really is? even while he loves himself as he is. Is it that there is a malignant Supreme Power over the creation, with which there is to be an everlasting contest between the will to detect and the interest to conceal? What a wish it is! that Omniscience were extinct-that its grand sphere might be invaded on all sides-narrowed more and more to the centre; that is to say, that there were no God! And all this because God is just; for this wish to "hide" is the acknowledgment that there is justice over the creation, that

there is a righteous and retributive power inspecting everywhere } with the consciousness that there is something obnoxious to justice. But for this consciousness all would be "children of the light." "He that doth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God." "Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil." If, therefore, we could compute the sum of all that men would wish it possible to keep from the light, as being consciously wrong-bad-we should have a mighty and a sad deposition against mankind! Just imagine the whole amount of all that which men would be glad if God could not know! especially if we take into account how partial and imperfect, after all, is Conscience, in the greatest number.

The text chiefly respects the impossibility of concealment from GOD, and the wish that it were possible. But, to a certain extent, it might be truly said also with regard to human inspection and judgment. There is a great deal of concealment from even that judicial inspection, and with but partial success. It is true, that many seem little to care for exposing some of their iniquities (such as those of intemperance, profaneness, maliciousness, cruelty) to the inspection of their fellow mortals. But still, there is a great system of concealment-a respectful dread of human opinion-an apprehension of its practical consequences, an immense quantity, therefore, of truth and fact, which it is desired and endeavoured to keep from the light. Think how much is kept carefully shrouded within the soul! Think of all that hypocrisy labours to cover! How many things are endeavoured to be screened from inspection and censure by a laboured train and complication of artifices, pretences, and falsehoods! Think of the designs plotting among small combinations of the "workers of iniquity.” Figure to yourselves the retired haunts and dens which