to that period when God was manifest in the flesh; and pointing thee to the hill of Calvary, and to the cross where hung the man of sorrows, I would tell thee of a Saviour's suffering, and a Saviour's love; I would show thee the crown of thorns, the nails, the spear, the gushing side, and the bleeding brow; I would sound in thine ears that voice of horror, "My God, my God, why hast "thou forsaken me?" when for thy sins the eternal Son was deserted by the Father; and by his agony and bloody sweat, by his cross and passion, and by that precious death which he then endured for thee, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would point thee to the glorious company of the apostles, and the noble army of martyrs, to all their voluntary sufferings for the cause of Christ and of his truth, to "the innocency of their

lives, and to the constancy of their faith unto "death;" and by all those consolations and hopes by which they were supported, and by the crowns of glory which will be their rich reward, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would call up to influence thy decision, the oft remembered spirits of the loved and the departed; of the friends whom, in their lives, you cherished, and whom, when you laid in the grave, you laid there in hope, looking for the general resurrection in the last day, and the life of the world to come; and by all the thoughts of sorrow

which thou hast given to their memory, by all those recollections which have made thy heart within thee to be weighed down in sadness, by all thy fears of an eternal separation, and by all thy desires of being restored to them in blessedness, and of dwelling with them in glory, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would remind thee of those hours when sickness, danger, or sorrow, has oppressed thee; and when, in the dissolution of thy earthly hopes, thou didst resolve, if God should give thee opportunity, to seek his favour, to reform thy life, and to devote thyself to his service; and by all his long suffering and goodness, by the punishment which awaits thy falsehood and ingratitude, and by that sudden tribulation which thou shalt experience, if hardening thy heart thou shalt resist alike the mercies and judgments of God, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would lead thee to the bed side of the dying saint. I would ask thee to estimate the consolations of a quiet conscience, and of a reconciled God. I would open to thy view the visions of felicity which hang over the unseen world; and give thee to hear the unspeakable words which St. Paul, caught up into Paradise, was allowed to hear; and to behold the glories of the new heavens and the new earth, which St. John, in a vision, was allowed to behold; and by the reality of those blissful scenes which await that parting spirit,

and the enjoyment of which is assured to every believer, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would go with thee to the chamber where there are shed no tears but those of bitterness; where the miserable victim of infidelity and sin is terminating an unblessed life in the horrors of an unblessed death; and amidst those vain hopes of annihilation and of endless sleep, or those ravings of despair which alternately soothe or harrow up his soul; I would lift from the bottomless pit that vail of concealment which yet, for a moment, hides it from his view; and disclosing to thee the worm that never dies, and the fire that never shall be quenched, and the weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, which must for ever be endured, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would go with thee to the eager scenes of business, where the thirst of accumulation destroys all peace of mind, and all kindness of affliction; or to the haunts of pleasure and the revels of the gay, where gaudy show and worldly pomp but half conceal the emptiness and the vanity which lurk beneath; and recalling to thy mind all that thou hast thyself experienced of worldly disappointment, and of unrealized expectation, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

Raising thy view from all these temporal and transient things, I would endeavour to set before thee the importance of the things eternal, the value of the soul, the progressive nature of its

noble faculties, the heights of knowledge, wisdom, and glory, to which it may aspire; the ever increasing happiness which throughout eternity it is capable of enjoying; and the things which, unseen by mortal eye, unheard by mortal ear, and unconceived by mortal heart, the God of Christians has prepared for them that love him; and by all these exalted hopes and ennobling expectations, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

And lest this boundless view of what it is thy privilege to attain should seem too distant to influence thy will, I would place before thee the rapidly advancing hour of thy departure, when the gain or loss of all these things shall begin to be realized. I would bring around thee all the appalling circumstances which mark the near approach of death-the still dim-lighted chamber, the bed of languishment, the sinking spirit, the feeble prostrate frame, the gentle tread of kind attendants, the whispered question of solicitude, the sad unspoken but significant reply; and as the fatal symptoms thicken into certainty, the loud and unrestrained sorrow of gathering and weeping friends, who over

"Thy dying couch in anguish hang,

"Wipe the cold dew, or stay the sinking head,
"Number thy moments, and in every clock,

"Start at the voice of an eternity;

"See the dim lamp of life just feebly lift
"An agonizing beam, at them to gaze,
"Then sink again, and quiver into death,”

And with that hour of dissolution full in view, as if now it were present to admonish thee, I would set in contrast the blessed destiny which awaits thy immortal nature, or the everlasting contempt to which thou shalt be consigned; and by all the vain regrets and cutting self-reproaches, which must be the consequence of thy unpreparedness and continual neglect; and by all the peace, consolation, and conscious hope, which will then reward thee for thy obedience, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

I would carry still forward thy thoughts to that morning of the resurrection, when all the sleeping myriads of men shall start from their repose to the awful scenes of judgment, which shall then be unfolded; to the opening of the books in which shall then be written all the actions of thy life; to the sentence which shall then be pronounced upon every soul of man; and to the doom which shall chill with anguish and horror, the miserable sinner; and by those unutterable agitations which shall then seize upon the spirit of the condemned, by their banishment from happiness and from God, by their eternal hopelessness and unmingled despair, I would persuade thee to be a Christian.

Finally, I would paint before thee the grandeur of that scene, when the scrutiny being ended, and the final separation made, and the first heavens and the first earth having passed away; the morning of eternity shall rise, in unclouded serenity,