in "seeing God as he is," so it will in all probability form one bitter ingredient in the future lot of the wicked, that they shall be deprived of the transporting view of the Creator's glory as displayed in the physical and moral economy of the universe. 4. The reflections of the sinner's own breast will in all probability form one constituent part of his misery in the future world. Even in this world his reflections are often painful. Though he may be surrounded by all those gaudy images and fascinating charms which make him an object of envy to the unthinking multitude, yet could you penetrate the secret recesses of his mind when he has retired from the world and communes with his own heart, you would discover a gnawing worm. Created and sustained by God, he is rationally convinced that he should have a supreme regard to the will and glory of his Creator and kind Benefactor. He reflects upon the many mercies that his heavenly Father has bestowed upon him, and of his unmindfulness of the claims of his Benefactor, and of the many crimes which he has been guilty of committing against him-and his soul is filled with anguish. As a transgressor his way is hard. The recollection of the sins he has committed, the mercies he has abused, and the golden opportunities he has misimproved, often fill his mind with the most painful sensations. What then must be the reflections of the sinner when his eyes will be opened to all the enormity of his crimes! These must form a dreadful aggravation of his misery in the future state. Then he will not be a Nero, reflecting upon his crimes with the blunted feelings of a man who could cause hundreds of innocent beings to be covered with skins of wild beasts and torn in pieces by devouring dogs; or fastened to crosses and wrapt up in combustible garments and set on fire; and who could gaze upon the tragical scene with ferocious delight; but a Nero contemplating his wanton cruelty with the sensibility of a Howard, and the just estimation of moral worth of a St. Paul. They will then reflect that once they were within the reach of mercy, and had life and death set before them. They will reflect on the many gospel sermons they have heard, the many ordinances which they have beheld, the thunders of Sinai which have rolled over their heads, and the melting strains of Calvary which have fell upon their ears, and how painful will be their reflection! It will be painful to reflect also how easy they might have escaped their present misery, and for the sake of what they consented to part with their eternal well being. Oh! how it will gnaw the hearts of sinners to know and reflect that they wilfully procured their own destruction, notwithstanding there was an abundant provision made in the gospel for the salvation of all men who would consent to be saved on the terms of the gospel; and that there was the most vigorous and united efforts made to put them in possession of this inestimable blessing! "Son remember," will be the worm-and oh! how it will sting like a serpent in that thought, "how have I hated instruction!" 5. The gnawing worm and the unquenchable fire includes also the consciences of sinners. The reproaches of the sinner's own conscience will cleave to the damned as worms to a dead body. And the sufferings inflicted by conscience will be even more painful than those which are caused by the passions and desires, or the intellectual or moral powers of the sinner. Even in this life her scourge draws blood at every stroke. You that have ever been so unhappy as to wound your own consciences, can bear testimony to this truth. You may have changed your climate. You may have left the parched regions of the south and gone to the wintry scenes of the north; but still the barbed arrow has remained fast in your side, and the pain of remorse has followed you through all the changes of your abode. What balm can allay the aching of a bruised spirit? What art of healing can reach the troubled soul that feels with keen anguish the scorpion sting of an infuriated conscience? It was the testimony of this faithful monitor of his misdeeds that made the Roman governor tremble before Paul, for he was raised above the fear of all human punishment, and that drew Judas to despair, madness and suicide. How often have many individuals, both in the higher and lower ranks of life, who without any external cause or apprehension of punishment from men, been seized J with inward terrors and writhed under the agonies of an accusing conscience, which neither the charms of music nor all the delights of the sons of men could assuage! The power of conscience is strikingly seen in the history of Belshazzar. This elated monarch amid the shouts of long live the King, lifts the golden cup which he had taken out of the house of God to his polluted lips, that he might crown his dissipation with sacrilegious impiety, The cup passes round, and the king with his wives and concubines and a thousand of his nobles drink confusion to Cyrus and his army. And now the voice of joy and the noise of mirth resounds through the palace. The hour is devoted to dissipation and profanity. But it is done. The triumphing of the wicked is short. The king lets fall the cup from his trembling hand; his countenance is changed, and his night debauchery is turned into unutterable horror-Lo! the silence of death reigns through the palace, and every eye is fixed, and all faces gather paleness, as a shadow wearing the appearance of the fingers of a man's hand glides along the wall of the palace and writes in mysterious characters, "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." But why this premature distress? Perhaps yonder inscription declares some joyful intelligence of the destruction of their enemies. Why then do the thoughts of the king terrify him, and his knees smite one against another? His terror cannot proceed from the sentence of condemnation written on the wall, for he is ignorant both of the writing and of its meaning. But he was conscious of the wickedness of which he had been guilty, and therefore he considered the extraordinary appearance upon the wall as an awful foreboding of punishment from that Almighty and Invisible Being whom he had offended. Ah! there are seasons when the ungodly, even in their most prosperous moments, feel the lash of a guilty conscience, and the curse of Cain in their breasts. In their secret retirements and fortified retreats, where no eye but the eye of God is upon them, and when no hostile invasion is apprehended, they tremble at a shadow, and feel a thousand disquietudes from the reproaches of a monitor which they cannot escape. "Conscience, the torturer of the soul unseen, Your crimes, and your own conscience be your hell.” But her keen reproaches here arel mere whispers compared with the thundering voice in which she will speak hereafter. Here her voice is often drowned, and her reproaches stifled. Here she is often lulled asleep by opiates. But she will not always sleep on the myrtle bed. In the future state the sinner will have no means of silencing her voice; and she will speak without interruption or intermission. She will be no longer seared or blinded, but will see every thing in the clear light of eternity; and the voice of her accusations will be more painful than the sting of a scorpion. How painful have been the reproaches of the sinner's conscience on his dying bed! The guilt, the fear, the horror which appeared in his countenance-his bitter regret, and the awful forebodings of endless misery which seemed to prey upon his mind, have wrung with anguish the hearts of all who surrounded his bedside. I have been told by persons on a dying bed that the pains of their body were extreme, but that their bodily sufferings were nothing in comparison to the anguish of their souls. And a dying infidel has been known to exclaim, "Sure there is a God, for nothing less than Omnipotence could inflict what I now feel!" What then must be the pangs inflicted by the reproaches of conscience in eternity? 6. Another ingredient in that cup which will be the future portion of the wicked is the power of recognition. As we have satisfactory evidence that the happiness of departed saints consists partly in the knowledge which they have of each other's blessedness, so we have sufficient reason to conclude that the misery of hell consists partly in the knowledge which lost souls have of each others doom. The man who employed his talents in ridiculing others because they were serious, and thus occasioned them to stifle their serious impressions; who allured the thoughtless and inexperienced into scenes of mirth and dissipation; or tempted them to become deistical or profane; or who induced them to embrace pernicious and fatal errors in principle and in practice, may find when it is too late to repent his folly, that these victims whom he has ridiculed and deceived, are his tormenters. The wailings of those deluded, unhappy beings, and their angry curses that they will heap upon the instruments of their ruin, will add a pang to the keenness of that anguish which he will be called to endure. The frowns and bitter accusations of companions in woe will fill up the measure of his sorrows. No doubt those who have been leaders in wickedness, and have by precept or example led others to become infidel in sentiment and profligate and impious in practice, and thus ruined them for time and eternity, will be rendered most miserable by the reproaches and bitter accusations of those whom they have ruïned. No doubt many admired writers who have already passed into the unseen world, would wish to come back and publish a recantation of their sceptical, heretical, and licentious works. No doubt many play-actors would desire the opportunity on earth of acting a different part on the stage from that by which they inflamed the unhallowed passions and corrupted the morals of mankind. No doubt many miniature painters would wish to come back and give a different coloring to those obscene pictures by which they have ruined many souls. No doubt many false teachers would now be willing to come back and publish and defend a more orthordox creed than that which they once preached. For men will be accountable for all the effects of their conduct, however widely they may spread, and however disastrous may be their consequences. Oh! how great will be the agony of that despair when the poor outcasts from the divine favor shall hear the groans and shrieks and lamentations of their wretched companions in woe. Companions in sin must be sharers in punishment as tares bound in bundles for the flames. As heaven is represented as a social state, and as much of the bliss of glorified saints will result from social intercourse, so the society of the wicked will be an aggravation of their misery. And as the |