the admonitions of the preacher. You stand around the open graves of the young. You hear the knell of departed youth. You are often called to the painful duty of committing to the earth the mortal remains of those who were young like yourselves, and whose hopes and prospects of long life were as promising as your own. To those who were your companions, the sun and the light are darkened: to them the return of the clouds and the seasons are no more known. They go to their long home, and the mourners go about the streets. The silver cord is loosed; the golden bowl is broken; the pitcher is broken at the fountain; the wheel is broken at the cistern. Their dust returns to the earth as it was; their spirits return unto God who gave them. And here, a further consideration in favor of the early devotion of the heart to God, urges itself upon your attention. The return of the body to the ground, after the departure of the spirit, is but giving back earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust but the return of the immortal spirit to the immediate presence of the eternal GoD who gave it, is an event of awful interest. The return of the spirit to GOD! a spirit that came from GoD pure and undefiled. And in what state shall it return? Contaminated by guilt? stained and polluted by unrepented sins? unwashed by the atoning blood of the Lamb? unsanctified by his blessed Spirit? unfit to remain in his awful presence, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity? These are questions of deep and solemn import; and bring into immediate view the last consideration by which the admonition of the preacher is enforced the awards of eternity; the great and final question of life or death for GOD will bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. These, then, are the momentous considerations by which the inspired preacher urges upon your attention the necessity of devoting the spring-time of your life to the service of God, and of making an early preparation for the great events of the last day. But do you ask, young men, why I thus write unto you now? and why the admonition before us may, at this time, be con sidered as particularly seasonable? I answer, because it has pleased GOD, in the course of his wise and righteous providence, to bring before you, with more than ordinary frequency, those afflicting cases which tend, beyond all others, to give force and effect to admonitions of this nature.* Of the peculiar severity of these dispensations, it is not my present purpose to speak. Such cases are always deeply afflicting, and must necessarily excite your sympathy; and I should doubtless find myself unable to suggest an idea on the subject, in which your own feelings would not anticipate me. A youthful victim of disease is always an affecting spectacle. An early death-bed opens so many wounds in the bosoms of near and dear relatives, that we are unavoidably moved to weep with those who weep. But still, if we can indulge the consoling hope, that those who are gone have departed in the true faith of the Gospel, and are now resting in the arms of JESUS, we find our feelings soothed and our sinking spirits sustained: and instead of indulging in immoderate grief, we should rather derive comfort from the idea, that the great penalty is paid; and that those whom we loved have been permitted to enter the Church triumphant above, without enduring the trials and struggles attendant on a long and protracted warfare in the Church militant below. It is proper, however, to advert to cases of this kind, as I have already intimated, for the purpose of giving the more point and effect to our admonitions: and viewed in this light, my young hearers, the recent instances of mortality among you unavoidably force themselves upon your attention, and become peculiarly interesting and instructing. If the exhortation of the inspired preacher - Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth-has hitherto passed by you unheeded; and if it be not now sufficient to persuade you to bring your youthful hearts a willing sacrifice to God; can you equally disregard the admonition furnished in these affecting cases? Shall the lessons conveyed in these dispensations also prove insufficient to persuade you to turn unto God, now, while * This allusion is sufficiently explained in the subsequent pages. the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when you shall say, I have no pleasure in them? You will reflect, that among those whose departure we lament, there were some who, but a few days since, stood side by side with you as companions and friends; and that they were then, as you are now, looking forward to the enjoyment of life and its various comforts. There probably was a time, when the thoughts of eternity seldom occupied their minds. The world appeared decked out in its thousand deceitful charms. In prospect, at least, every thing was bright and flattering; and, for a time, their hopes were fixed on earthly objects. But you know the sad reverse. Withering disease, and decay, and death, followed close upon these delusive scenes; and your young companions have been summoned away to the eternal world. You have seen the earth close upon their remains. The dust has returned to the earth as it was. They have gone to their long home, and the mourners go about the streets. While, therefore, you sympathize with the bereaved, and while you fondly cherish the hope, that the sanctified spirits of the departed have returned to GOD who gave them, and now rest in the bosom of redeeming love, turn again, for one moment, to the instructive lesson conveyed in these dispensations. Young men - - you may still cherish in your memory the friends who are gone; but you meet no more in this world. How soon you may meet in another, it is not for mortals to know. A few years, at most, perhaps but a few days, or a few hours, may be the whole term of your separation. You probably now feel secure in the freshness and vigor of youth; but you know not how soon this freshness may be withered, and this vigor prostrated, by the touch of dissolution. You doubtless anticipate the enjoyment of life for many years; but you know not how soon the anticipation may be defeated. Perhaps you think not, as seriously as you ought, of eternity; but you know not how soon its awful concerns may force themselves, with tremendous energy, upon your mind. The world appears charming and inviting to you; but even now the years may be drawing nigh when darkness shall overshadow it. Your pros pects are bright; but you know not how soon disappointment may blast them. Your hopes are fixed on things below; but how soon may experience teach you the fallacy of these hopes, and constrain you to say, I have no pleasure in them! Consider, youthful hearer, by what frail ties you are bound to earth; how easily the silver cord of life is loosed; the golden bowl broken; the pitcher broken at the fountain; and the wheel broken at the cistern. Consider how liable this perishing dust is, at any moment, to return to the earth as it was, and the spirit to return unto God who gave it. Consider all this, and then ask yourself whether you do well to remain careless, secure, and indifferent to the concerns of eternity. Ask yourself whether it is right, whether it is safe, to sport, with blind temerity, upon the very brink of a fearful precipice. Ask yourself whether it is not the part of wisdom and of prudence, as well as of duty, to remember your Creator now, in the days of your youth. And as you reflect on the case of those who have departed in the true faith of the Gospel, and who have appeared calm and serene amid the most trying and distressing scenes, let every such reflection prompt you to the anxious inquiry, whether your trust in GoD is sufficient to enable you to follow their bright example, were you now called to face the terrors of death. And as you pursue this inquiry, bear in mind the awakening truth, that your great and last enemy does not always approach his victim with slow and gradual steps. In such an hour as we think not, at a moment of entire self-security, does the summons sometimes come. It is a summons, against which no human fortitude can arm us; a summons which the power of religion alone can enable us to meet with composure. May you, then, my young friends, and may we all, use our utmost diligence to have all things in readiness when the summons does come. May we now, while it is called to-day, secure the strong foundation of our present hope, and of our future bliss. May the dispensations to which we have briefly adverted, prove instrumental in the hand of GoD, in awakening our attention to the solemn admonitions which we have drawn from the sacred volume. "And may the good examples of our 12 departed friends, and the hope of their eternal blessedness, excite us to press, with the more earnestness, toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of GOD in CHRIST JESUS. In every instance of mortality, may we see how frail and uncertain our own condition is; and may we learn so to number our days as to apply ourselves unto wisdom; that so, among the changes and vicissitudes of the world, our hearts may be fixed on that sure and only foundation, where true joys are to be found." And when we reflect, that God will surely bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil, "let us learn to live above the world, to seek the favor of our heavenly Father, to study his holy will, to observe his laws and precepts, and in all our actions, to aim at his glory, the salvation of our own souls, and the souls of our fellowmortals; that so, when we go to our long home, his presence may go with us, to sustain and comfort us, to lead us to the rest eternal in the heavens !" ADMONITION TO THE YOUNG. How prone is man, in youth's enchanting hour, Does health give promise of a safer bloom When manhood crowns his short, precarious state? What if you gain this world's dear bought applause, A rigid votary to fashion's laws, Lighting the torch at folly's glaring flame? |
