addressed, other arguments interfere, and bear down the force of reason and of conscience.

The man of pleasure cannot conceive how there should be any happiness in the enjoynents of the mind, or that it can exist in any thing except the gratification of the senses. As these are, in general, contrary to the precepts of Christianity, he cannot think of conforming to rules of conduct that preclude his favourite pursuits, or of languishing away an undiversified life in penal austerities, and monastic dulness. Such are his ideas of religion, which he considers only as a gloomy institution, that dooms its votaries to sadness and melancholy.

The man of avarice, who knows no pleasure but in the acquisition of riches-the ambitious and the vain, who can be gratified only by the dreams of eminence, and the flattery of dependence the villain of every denomination, under the mask of piety, or the front of profligacy-these will hardly be induced by any convictions of reason to embrace those precepts which deny them their pleasures, and those doctrines that would change the system of their lives.

But religion's most prevailing rivals for the heart are the love of pleasure, and the desire of fame. These passions were given us by the

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wise and benevolent Author of nature for cious and for glorious ends-to direct us for the first to the fountains of immortal life, and for the last to the approbation of our God.

From the perversion of these passions we derive much of our sin and misery.

The quest of pleasure is generally confined to our younger years; whatever flatters the present appetite, we pursue with all the eager ness of inexperience, alike regardless of the admonitions of those who have proved the vanity of this world's enjoyments, and the doctrines of those who remind us of another. The heart has found whereon it may repose, and to prepare it for repentance from what it approves, though it were repentance from dead works, would be utterly impracticable. Before the heart can repent, it must first learn to disapprove its pursuits and attachments.

Here then let me observe to the young and the gay, that those idle pleasures they are now in pursuit of are, in general, not only beneath the dignity of a reasonable being, but will, certainly, after a short time, delight no more. Youth and beauty are possessions they are parting with every day. The rejoicing spirits of manly vigour, the exulting hope, the enchanting prospect, shall in a few, may in a

very few years be extinguished in the dark mansions of the grave.

Every fair form that is now animated with lively sense and sprightly fancy, shall soon moulder in the common dust, senseless and forgotten through a series of ages. Perhaps, ere we once more assemble in this sacred place-perhaps, before to morrow's sun shall set, some ear that is now attending to these observations may be closed in insensibility.

How vain then to form any engaging attachments, except that one which is needful, in a life so short, and in all things so uncertain! Vain, at the best, are all the pleasures of youth; but more ridiculously vain are the worldly pursuits of age.

Ambition and vanity, which are the offspring of the before-mentioned perverted lave of fame, are not seldom to be found in those years, which wisdom and experience should have crowned with virtue. Yet, is it possible? Can age have its vanities? Shall the plume of folly nod over grey hairs? Can there be any thing here of consequence enough to alarm or interest those, who shortly are departing never to return? What is the business, what are the mighty engagements, that can employ the prudence and wisdom of age?

Can it be exercised in the pursuit of titles, or honours? in adding new decorations to an house, or new dignities to a name? in courting the breath of popular favour, or in feasting on the flying rumour of the day? Are these the employments of declining life? and do these prevent the heart from preparing itself for the great business of repentance?

But if the arguments which are drawn from the vanity of earthly pursuits should not have sufficient weight to overcome our attachments to them, the prospects and the sanctions of futurity cannot surely be considered in vain.

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The sense of a total exclusion from happiness, and from God-the final forfeiture of that immortality which the mercies of redemp tion have secured, and the glad tidings of the Gospel have brought to light, must, on a mind not lost to sensibility, as well as to reason, have a striking effect.

Yet should every argument however conclusive, should every motive however powerful, fail to excite in the abandoned a sense of his misery, and to prepare for repentance the heart where vice has been long established, though human means are ineffectual, there is yét a resource in that power to whom nothing is impossible.

He who has been long under the influence B b

of sin, should he behold the danger to which he is exposed-should he be convinced of the ruinous condition of wickedness, yet find his heart unwilling to quit its present attachments -nothing remains for such a one but to apply to the divine bounty for grace and assistance. Yet this is by no means a precarious resource; for, has it not the confirmation of a divine promise, that the returning sinner shall not sue in vain? and is not he faithful who hatk promised?

This introduces the second circumstance in the progress of repentance, viz. the act of humiliation before God.

When thou hast prepared thy heart, lift up thy hands towards him.

When we address our prayers to a power so infinitely superior to us as the Almighty is conceived to be, we cannot be too attentive to the propriety even of our external deport ment. And that attitude of body which carries with it the marks of submission we should do well to observe, because it is nothing more than another kind of speech, or expression, that indicates the meaning of the mind..

But whatever be the posture of the body during our penitential prayers, let us be especially attentive to the condition of the mind.