SERMON VI.

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND THE

WICKED CONTRASTED.

Prov. xiv. 32.

The wicked is driven away in his wickedness, but the righteous hath hope in his death.

ཝཱ་་་

THE pleasures of sinners are but as the crackling of thorns under a pot; their triumphs, with whatever marks of bravery connected, are but of short duration; their joys are momentary; their light may be suddenly extinguished; and their souls plunged into extreme sorrow. And yet how amazingly careless many of these are about their condition; how disinclined to bow their ear to instruction, or receive any information about their souls and eternity! how cheerfully they blend with impious crowds, and run with the multitudes to do evil; how little the anxiety they feel about these things, and how heedlessly they glide along the stream of time! Scarcely any thing appears to me morë amazing, than the little concern numbers manifest, who know assuredly that their condition is decidedly unsafe.

Are not many of you, now before me, melancholy examples of this conduct? I fear there are those around me who are in the gall of bitterness, and in the bonds of iniquity. And, what surprises me the most, you are not living ignorant of this. You know, that if the Bible be true, you are wrong. Many of you are convinced that

your sins are numerous and unpardoned,—that you are

destitute of the Divine favour,-that your feet are moving in the ways of death,-and that the paths in which you are walking, lead down to the chambers of hell.

Perhaps you likewise will be surprised at me, when you hear me inform you, that many times I am quite at a loss how to treat your case, and in what mode of expressions to address you. For, too often, when we pipe, you do not dance, and, when we mourn, you do not weep. The most animating and charming truths do not draw you. The most alarming and appalling do not deter you from sin, nor move you to the fountain of mercy and help. In vain do the thunders of Sinai roll around you. In vain do the promises of Mount Zion break upon your ears. Warnings the most solemn and awful appear of little use, and yet, so long as you come within the sound of our voices, we dare not hold our peace. Our commission runs thus, "Thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me." Hence this duty is binding upon us; we dare not shrink from it. The interest of your souls, we view, as a matter of the greatest importance. To bring you properly to feel this interest, and to act under its influence, is the principal design of all our labours. We fervently desire to be the means of saving all who hear us.

But, be this as it may, whether you will hear or whe ther you forbear, we must be clear, we must save ourselves, As ministers, however, we cannot save ourselves without plainly and faithfully warning you. The Apostle warned every man, and taught every man, that he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesus. He urged Timothy to pursue the same line of conduct in his public ministry, from the hope of saving himself and those that heard him, And this is the light in which we view our labours, and the light in which we desire them to be viewed by you. would not have you think that we study for the purpose of flattering your vanity and securing your applause ;-that

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we ascend our pulpits merely for the purpose of affording you amusement;—or that we stand before you to aid you in passing away your troublesome time. Neither would we have you think that we take pleasure in making you uneasy, or in dwelling always upon terrible things. We would not always be talking of wrath, of fury, of hell, and fiends. We do not wish to be spreading alarm where there is no danger. We would not always be thundering in your ears the tidings of future wrath. In fact, were we fully persuaded that you have entirely abandoned yourselves to folly, that you are determined to take no warning, that your conduct has exhausted the stores of Divine patience, that God has passed a curse upon your souls, and sworn in his displeasure, that you shall not enter his rest, and that consequently no manifestations of love could melt you, nor any tidings of wrath deter you; then we would forbear to fulminate threatenings, or thunder in your ears the woes that await you. We would not conduct ourselves towards you in the capacity of fiends. We would not torment you before the time. But, affecting as your condition is, we do not view it in this gloomy light. do not think that you have abandoned all designs of living to God, of dying in peace,-of escaping the miseries of hell, of securing the felicity of heaven. Your regular attendance in this house; the seriousness manifested by you; the good impressions sometimes made upon you; and the tears you shed under some of our sermons, all seem to indicate the possession of something that promises better things. But, in all this, we fear lest you are beguiled by some fatal delusion,-lest you are leaning on some broken staff, lest you are putting confidence in a reed shaken with the wind. Let me be plain with you; we fear you are deferring religion to the close of your lives; and are leaving the acquisition of this all important blessing, and the practise of its duties, to the hour of death. O that I

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could set before you, in living colours, the madness of your projects. To deter you from a line of conduct so wild and dangerous, I will thunder in your ears the sentiments of the text. I will shout to all around me," The wicked is driven away in his wickedness."

Let us with soberness turn our attention towards this plain but important passage of the Sacred Book, by noticing the melancholy circumstances under which impenitent transgressors leave the world, and the serene confidence which is possessed by a good man at the termination of his earthly course. I will consider,

"The wicked is driven away in his wickedness,?? It is not my design to enter here into a particular definition of the character and conduct of a wicked man. will scarcely stop to make any remarks upon them. I have principally to do with his death. The epithet, how ever, is commonly understood as applying to a person of decidedly loose habits and extremely bad conduct. Though, in a qualified sense, it is applicable to every person who is living according to the propensities of his fallen nature, who is unrenewed in the spirit of his mind,-who acts contrary to the government of religious principles, and whose heart is destitute of the love of God. It is in this sense we intend to treat these words at the present, and include all such characters when we say, "The wicked is driven away in his wickedness."

Let me now endeavour to describe his death, and, in order to render the description more lively and impressive, do not merely view it as concerning persons far from you, and of whom you have no knowledge; but, as an evil to which, by the improprieties of your conduct, you are wil

fully exposing yourselves; and, unless some very speedy steps be taken to prevent it, as a scene through which many of you, that now hear me, will have to pass. What numbers of you have, till this hour, intended to turn to God, but not till the close of life! In this your conduct has been decidedly foolish, and extremely dangerous. In short, it only needs to be examined by a mind free from prejudice, and desirous of knowing the truth, to see this folly, and be alarmed by its dangers. I sometimes fear, lest on this theme, you will think me same in my matter, and teasing in my manner. The best apology I can offer for my conduct is, the foolish practice I am now exploding is very extensive, and the evils connected with it, are great in their magnitude, and endless in their duration.

The wicked, whatever shades of variety may be found in their conduct, commonly place considerable dependance upon a death bed repentance, and talk largely of the work they intend to perform, and the mercy they hope to obtain at that unpromising hour. But O! what a reed shaken with the wind is this. Surrounded as you are with facts to the contrary, one would thing it almost unnecessary to inform you, that it is extremely uncertain whether or no you will have any lingering affliction prior to death. Vast numbers have not, and you may not. Nay, you know you may die without one moment's warning. How many around you are passing away so suddenly that they have not the smallest space left for repentance! If the exclamation of "God be merciful to me a sinner," would be the means of their salvation, they could not have it. Their thoughts are bewildered and their tongues are mute. Again,

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I scarcely need inform you, that should you be apprized your death, by a severe and long continued illness, yet then the means of salvation may be placed far beyond your reach. The severity of your affliction may distract you; the hopelessness of your condition may turn your brain to