to be alarmed for the consequences of your sin, nor too young to look to the Lamb of God for healing and salvation. May each of you come to Him without delay, that you may have life, and have it abundantly!" THE KARENS. [The Rev Mr Wade, a returned missionary from Burmah. gave the following interesting account of the Karens, so often spoken of in missionary intelligence :-] WHEN I first went to Burmah there were only three missiouaries and twenty converts in the field, but now the number of missionaries is much increased, and the converts are multiplied more than a hundredfold. The first ten years of my labour was spent among the Burmans, and we had the pleasure of seeing them listen to us, and cast away their idols and put on Christ. During this time, particularly the latter part of it, we had become somewhat acquainted with a people called the Karens. The Burmans suppose this to be the most ancient people of that country. They reside in the interior of Burmah, surrounded on all sides by Burmans. Others live in Siam, and are surrounded by idolaters. We found that the Karens, as a nation, had no idols, but they were sunk in ignorance and superstition, worshipping evil spirits. They were entirely destitute of books, and had no written language, but were desirous of having books, and of being taught to read them in their own language. After I returned about fifteen years ago from a visit to my native land, I devoted my time to the Karens. At first there were but three missionaries among the nation. But now the Bible has been translated into their language, and a large number of tracts have been published and distributed among the people. Schools have been established, and taught by missionaries and native converts. Thousands have learned to read and write their own language. So great is their desire for books, that the first edition of the Testament which we published is entirely exhausted. During the last fifteen or sixteen years, more than ten thousand Karens have been baptized and received into the Church, averaging more than 500 converts every year, and this too where there have not been more than five or six foreign missionaries engaged in the labour, and in a country where every one who made a profession of the religion of the "foreigners," was liable to be punished and imprisoned for his belief. Very many have been cast into prison and their feet made fast in the stocks, to compel them to renounce the worship of the "foreigner's" God. But through all this persecution we have not heard of a single instance of apostasy. They have stood steadfast in view of immediate death. The Karens are, in a peculiar manner, prepared to become a Christian nation; and we have often had applications from distant villages, where no missionary had been, for missionaries and schools. These we have often been obliged to decline for the want of funds to meet the demand. The Karens are far more ready to receive the word than the Burmese. Though the missionaries have laboured thirty years among the latter, the number of converts is not onetenth as great as among the former. The reason of this is, that the Karens have certain traditions among them, handed down from father to son, from remote generations, that have preserved them from idolatry. They have a tradition that teaches them that there s a God. The Burmans do not suppose that there s a Creator. But the Karens believe that God created man out of the dust of the earth. They have a tradition similar to the history given in the first chapter of Genesis. They have a tradition of the scenes in the garden of Eden, of the temptation and fall of man, very similar to the description in the Bible. Their tradition informs them that God gave them his word written on leather, and that by some means they lost it, and that it would be restored to them by white foreigners. And when the missionaries came among them, they came from great distances to see them, believing them to be the white foreigners who were to restore the "word" to them. Their tradition informed them that, if they neglected the words of these white foreigners, it would be the last opportunity that would ever be presented to them to recover the lost word; so that when the Bible was translated into their own language they believed it was the word of God their Father. Hence they have been ready in all directions to receive the word. Those who have learned to read, have received it with great eagerness, and even where they have not learned to read, they have begged the Testament to carry home, in order that they might have the word of God in their houses. We have raised up a number of Christian villages in the country. In these we have Christian exercises as often and as long continued as in any village in this country. In a village about two days' journey from Tavoy, there is a church of about four hundred members; and as this church has been more particularly under my charge, I have had an opportunity of observing their devotedness to the cause of Christ. We have had at times in this church two hundred and fifty communicants at the Lord's Supper, notwithstanding many of the members live at a great distance from the village. We have often seen the house filled with devout worshippers of the living God. They will often lay aside all labour, even in the midst of the harvest, for a whole week, to engage in religious exercises. In their prayer-meetings there is great readiness on the part of all to engage in the duties of the meeting. And I have often seen them bow their heads to the ground in prayer, and melt into a flood of tears in the agony of their confession. They never think of going to communion without confessing their sins, and begging the prayers of their brethren, or without being sure that no one has hard feelings against them. They confess all their sins, and ask forgiveness of all whom they may have offended. At their meetings, contributions are taken up for the support of schools and missionaries, and there is never a member too poor to give something. In a church not worth £200, they raise funds enough to support a native pastor and a school six months of the year. Benevolence is universal; even infants are taught to give something. The mother takes the little nursling in her arms, putting a penny or two in its hands, and carries it to the contribution box, causing it to drop the money into the box. Few as the native converts are, if they possessed property we would not be under the necessity of asking contributions from this country. They would themselves support missionaries and schools in all parts of the country. They are a disinterested and benevolent people. HIGH MASS IN ST PETER'S. THE hollowness and fraud of Popery were never brought before my mind more forcibly, nay, glaringly, than beneath the dome of St Peter's. One of my first visits to that gorgeous cathedral was on Christmas day 1832. I expected to see a sight agreeing, at least in outward appearance, with the title of Catholic, which the Church of Rome claims DEATH. as exclusively her own-to find a multitude of persons thronging in from the city and from the neighbouring country to attend the celebration of high mass by him whom they were taught to revere as Christ's vicegerent upon earth. But instead of this a row of soldiers was drawn up along each side of the nave, and kept every body at a distance during the whole service, except the few who were privileged by station or favour to enter within the lines. Beside the altar, under the dome, seats had been erected for persons of rank or wealth, who were mainly foreigners, and consequently in great part English or German Protestants. Thus the whole proceeding acquired the character, not of a religious ceremony, in which the congregation was to join, but of a theatrical exhibition before strangers, regarded for the most part as heretics, and many of whom came merely out of curiosity to see the show. After a while the Pope was brought in, borne on a raised seat or palanquin, with splendid robes and plumes and fans and other paraphernalia: he celebrated mass, the persons who ought to have formed the congregation, a very scanty one at the utmost, being prevented from approaching by the barrier of troops: and when the rite was over, the chief performer, or chief victim, in this miserable pageant, was carried out again with the same pomp. The thought of the moral debasement thus inflicted on a man, and of his utter inability to struggle against such a crushing system, so oppressed me as I walked away, that when, in mounting the steps before the Trinitá, my eyes fell on a poor beggar who used to sit there, and who had neither hands nor feet, picking up the alms thrown to him with his mouth, I could not refrain from exclaiming, How infinitely rather would I be that poor cripple than Pope! Can the effect of the ceremonies in St Peter's on intelligent Italians in these days be very different? I doubt it; whatever might be their feelings when they merely saw the empty shell of the building. I have known men indeed, whom I esteem and honour, and who have regarded Rome as a solemn and majestic witness of what they have deemed the truth. But to me, though, from the indescribable beauty and grandeur of many of the views, the intense interest of its heathen and Christian recollections, and its inexhaustible stores of ancient and modern art, the three months I spent there were daily teeming with fresh sources of delight, and have left a love such as I never felt for any other city; yet, when I thought of Rome in connection with the religion of which it is the metropolis, it seemed to me of all places the last where a man with his eyes open could be converted to Romanism. The vision of the Romish Church, and of its action upon the people, which was there graven on my mind, accords with that implied in the answer of an ingenious English painter, whom I asked, how he could bring himself to leave Rome, after living so many years there. It was indeed very painful, he replied, to tear myself away from so much exquisite beauty: but, as my children grew up, it became absolutely necessary; for I found it utterly impossible to give them a notion of truth at Rome. THE DOUBTFUL HOPE. 67 I was called upon one morning, now many years ago, to visit a gentleman, one of my congregation, who was apparently in a dying state. Not having heard of his illness before, but knowing his previous history, I felt startled, and greatly distressed; for he was one who had trifled with religious convictions, and had so far stifled them as greatly to abandon his religious connections, satisfying his conscience by attending one service on the Sabbath, frequently absenting himself altogether, and seeking, in worldly associations and amusements, to silence the voice within, and bury in oblivion the remembrance of past religious impressions. On entering his dying chamber, with a look of unutterable anguish he exclaimed, “(), sir! I am lost! Your very presence condemns me! The sermons you have preached, your faithful warnings from the pulpit, your private expostulations, all condemn me! O, sir! what is to become of my soul-my poor neglected soul? I have just been told I cannot live! my hours are numbered! I have no pain now; but that is the precursor of death"-(he was dying of inflammation in the bowels) -" and I shall soon be in eternity! Oh! stifled convictions a neglected Bible-misimproved Sabbaths -how will ye rise up in judgment to condemn me! O, sir! what will become of me?" I endeavoured to calm his mind, and told him he must not add unbelief to the catalogue of his sins; that the gospel was a revelation of mercy; that the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin; that whosoever cometh unto him he will in nowise cast out; that He is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto him. "Uttermost!" the dying man exclaimed, “uttermost! then there is a gleam of hope, even for me, if I had time! but, even now, feel that stage approaching which will absorb my faculties, and terminate my sad life. O! what would I give for one week! one day! oh, precious time! how have I wasted it! O, my dear pastor! pity me! pray for me! my thoughts grow confused—I cannot pray myself." I then knelt down and prayed with him, in which he most fervently joined, summoning all his strength to keep awake. I shall never forget the grasp of his hand when I alluded to the fulness and sufficiency of Divine grace. I left him with feelings which it is impossible for me to describe, and returned, according to my promise, in a few hours. I found him still sensible, but evidently sinking under the power of slumber from which he would never awake. In the interval he had been dwelling on the texts suggested; and when he saw me, he feebly but smilingly said, "Able to save to the uttermost there I must rest my hope." After again commending this dying penitent to the riches of Divine mercy, I left him not without hope, but such a hope as I would not, for ten thousand worlds, risk as my dying solace.-Life of Dr J. Fletcher. DEATH. CONCERNING death, to them that are God's dear children (as I know you are one, my tenderly beloved sister), what other thing is it, than the despatch of all displeasure, the end of all travail, the door of all desires, the gate of gladness, the post of paradise, the haven of heaven, the entrance to felicity, the beginning of all blissfulness? It is the very bed of down or the doleful bodies of God's children to rest in, and therefore well compared to a sleep, out of which they shall rise and awake most fresh to life everlast ing. It is a passage to the Father-a chariot to heaven -the Lord's messenger-a leader unto Christ-a going to our home--a deliverance from bondage and prison-a dismission from woe-a security from all sorrow, and a setting free from all misery-so that the very heathen, in some places, caused the day of their death to be celebrated with mirth, melody, and minstrels; and should we be dismayed at it-should we tremble to hear of it? Should such a friend as it is be unwelcome? Should the hardness of his husk frighten us from his sweet kernel,-should the roughness of the tide tie us to the bank and shore, there to be drowned, rather than the desire of our home drive us to go abroad?--Bradford. THOU must indeed, O believer! grapple with death, and shall get the first fall; but thou shalt rise again, and come off victorious at last. Thou must go down to the grave; but though it be thy long home, it shall not be thine everlasting home. Thou wilt not hear the voice of thy friends there; but thou shalt hear the voice of Christ there. Thou mayst be carried thither with mourning; but thou shalt come up with rejowing. Thy friends, indeed, will leave thee; but thy God will not. What God said to Jacob concerning his going down to Egypt, he says to thee,-Fear not to go down; I will go down with the, and I will surely bring thee up again. O solid comfort! O glorious hope! Wherefore, comfort yourselves, and one another with these words.-Boston. food; they shall be entertained with the hidden manna, (Rev. ii. 17.) That land enjoys an everlast ing day; for there is no night there. An eternal sunshine beautifies this better country; but there is no scorching heat there. No clouds shall be seen there for ever; yet it is not a land of drought. The trees of the Lord's planting are set by the rivers of water, and shall never want moisture; for they will have an eternal supply of the Spirit by Jesus Christ, from his Father. This is the country from whence our Lord came, and whither he is gone again; the country which all the holy patriarchs and prophets had their eye upon while on earth; and which all the saints, who have gone before us, have fought their way to; and unto which the martyrs have joyfully swam through a sea of blood. This earth is the place of the saint's pilgrimage-that is their country, where they find everlasting rest.—Boston. WHAT I LOVE TOO LITTLE. I Too little love to examine my own heart. Were I fanciful in self-examination, I should know better where my affections were centred, and should bel less liable to love improper objects, or to love proper ones excessively. I know that my heart is proud, treacherous, deceitful, and greatly wanting in pure love to God; and I feel towards the work of self-examination a reluctance, such as one has to enter upon the investigation of the conduct of a disobedient child. I hesitate, and defer, and meanwhile evils are continually accumulating, and my case is being aggravated. How far better to come at once to the light, that the deeds of my wicked heart may be reproved, and that repentance and peace may ensue! love reproof too little. If I loved it, and counted the wounds of a friend faithful, how much more ready would friends be to give me needed admonition and scasonable reproof! How much more should I profit should I need it! from, when it was given; and how much less But it is not merely the reproofs of brethren that I misimprove; but those also which come from the hands of my heavenly Father. "He that refuseth reproof erreth." In the earthly paradise, I find thine angels, the cherubim; but it was to keep man off from that garden of delight, and from the tree of life in the midst of it. But, in this heavenly one, I find millions of thy cherubim and seraphim rejoicing at man's blessedness, I love labour, and sacrifice, and self-denial too little. and welcoming the glorified souls to their heaven. How reluctantly do I go into a vineyard where I There, I find but the shadow of that, whereof the know there is a burden to be borne! How easily do substance is here. There, we were so possessed of I excuse myself from doing something that is crosslife, that yet we might forfeit it; here is life withouting to the flesh! I can easily say, "I am not fit for all possibility of death. Temptation could find access thither: here is nothing but a free and complete fruition of blessedness. There were delights for earthly bodies: here is glory, more than can be enjoyed by blessed souls. That was watered with four streams, muddy and impetuous: in this is the pure water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God, and of the Lamb.-(Rev. xxii. 1.) There, I find thee only walking in the cool of the day; here, manifesting thy majesty continually. There, I see only a most pleasant orchard, set with all manner of varieties of flourishing and fruitful plants: here, I find also the city of God, infinitely rich and magnificent: the building of the wall of it of jasper: and the city itself pure gold, like unto clear glass: and the foundations of the wall garnished with all manner of precious stones.-Bishop Hall. IF one enquires, where the kingdom of the saints lies? It is not in this world; it lies in a better country than the best of this world, viz. the heavenly Canaan, Immanuel's land, where nothing is wanting to complete the happiness of the inhabitants. This is the happy country, blest with a perpetual spring, and which yieldeth all things, for necessity, convenience, and delight. There they shall eat angel's that work, or some one else can do it better than I," and so I pacify conscience by neglecting duty and living in idleness. It is easy to talk of self-denial, and of taking up the cross; but talking and doing are different things. Alas! what single thing have I renounced-what labour am I pursuing-or what sacrifice or self-denial of mine are there, to give testimony of the strength and the sincerity of my love to Christ? I love God's holy Word too little. If I suitably loved it, should I not read it more, and remember more, and practise more? "The entrance of thy words giveth light." Should I stumble so much in darkness, if I suitably loved and pondered the divine testimonies?. Could my heart be so cold, and so' much a void, if it were well instructed in the wisdom of inspiration? Could I so far wander from God, if I made his word the constant lamp to my feet and light to my path? I love the souls of men too little. Witness my want of fervour, earnestness, and importunity in praying for them. Witness my want of tenderness and faithfulness in reproving them of sin, and enWitness deavouring to lead them to the Saviour. my worldliness and trifling conversation, by which hinder instead of promoting the salvation of souls. THE FOUR WORDS. Ah! what witnesses against me will there be, who are living in impenitence, and who hear no admonition nor entreaty from my lips, but who, by my example of stupidity, are confirmed in unbelief. I love the Saviour of sinners too little. I might as well have confessed this at first. This is sufficient to account for all other evils and defects. Love to Christ is the fountain of all holy affections, and the source of all true obedience; and where this love is wanting, no marvel if its fruits are wanting. Here, then, is the cause of all my sins and sorrows. I have forsaken the Fountain of living waters, and have hewn out to myself broken cisterns which can hold no water; and, of necessity, I am found wanting in all respects. What, now, shall I do? Where is the way of return to duty and peace? Hasten, O sinful soul! with contrition, and confession, and tears, to the cross of Christ.-New York Evangelist. A PLEA FOR THE SABBATH. SOMETIMES an aspect of harshness is attempted to be thrown around the Sabbath, and it is spoken of as a thing of mere arbitrary restraints. It is said, for example, why forbid the ingenious mechanic, who has been sweating over the anvil, or bending over the loom, or cooped up in the crowded factory, to give himself up on this day to amusement and recreation? Let him angle in the stream, or sail on the river, or explore the forest, or ascend the mountain, and inhale its breeze and expatiate in its sublime prospects; and let the rustic labourer, on the other hand, visit our cities, and enter our museums, and libraries, and picture-galleries. Must not that be a burdensome institute which interdicts such recreations, and must not those be wanting in all benevolence and sensibility, who would vindicate it from popular encroachment? Such is the covert of assumed philanthropy, from which the Sabbath is not unfrequently assailed. But on what pretence is the Sabbath to be charged with trenching on the enjoyments of the artisan. What is it but the Sabbath that has secured for him a seventh day of rest, and, fencing it round with a Divine barrier, has said to tyranny, This is the poor man's day, you may not wrest it from him-to secularity. You shall not buy it from him-to the poor man himself, You may not yield it up or sell it. Doubtless, it is to be wished that more time were allowed to the hard-wrought masses of our population for bodily recreation; and in a state of society which the principles of the Bible thoroughly leavened and regulated, this would most certainly be secured. 69 too late, that that blessed institute which had enshrined his dignity, his liberty, and his immortal interests, was lost; and that, in an evil hour, he had sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. The man of toil is insulted by that sentimentalism which never looks above his physical condition, and shuts out the idea that he is an immortal being travelling to an eternal world. And surely it is a far truer philanthropy which delights to behold him exchanging not mere animal toil for animal recreation, but moving with a virtuous household to that hallowed place where rich and poor meet together, raising his thoughts above all that is sordid and secular, holding converse with themes that at once dignify and purify, receiving motives to virtuous action, solace to grief, and with "looks commercing with the skies," meditating on those things into which even angels desire to look. These are the men that make an empire great, by keeping it virtuous: the salt of the earth, the lights of the world.-Rev. Andrew Thomson. THE FOUR WORDS, AN INCIDENT FOR CHILDREN. "FOUR little words did me more good when I was a boy, than almost any thing else," said a gentleman the other day. "I cannot reckon up all the good! they have done me; they were the first words which my mother taught me.' "Indeed, what were the four little words?" said I. He answered me by relating the following story:"My father grafted a pear-tree; it was a very choice graft, and he watched it with great care. The second year it blossomed, but it bore but one pear. They were said to be a very nice kind of pear, and my father was quite anxious to see if they came up to the man's promises. This single pear, then,' was an object of some concern to my father. He wanted it to become fully ripe; the high winds, he hoped, would not blow off the pear; and he gave express directions to all the children on no account to touch it. The graft was low, and easily reached by us. It grew finely. I think that graft will meet my expectations,' said my father many times to my mother. I hope, now, there is some prospect of our having good pears.' "Every body who came to the garden he took to the graft, and every body said, 'It will prove to be a most excellent pear.' "It began to look very beautifully; it was full and round; a rich red glow was gradually dyeing its cheeks, and its grain was clear and healthy. 666 "Is it not almost ripe? I long for a bite,' I cried, as I followed father one day down the alley to the pear-tree. But are not the intelligence and the morality of a people of infinitely more importance, both to their individual happiness and to national strength? We wish to see secured for the artisan time for recreation, but we wish to see secured for him time for religion too, and shall we be asked to sacrifice the more important for the less important? Would not recreation itself, without intelligence and morality, rapidly degenerate into brutal licentiousness? And how are these to be secured by those sons of toil, without a weekly recurring day given to converse "I thought I loved pears better than any thing else! with Divine truths and eternal realities? Let the often I used to stop and look longingly up to this. real state of the case be clearly seen. The hours for recreation on common days have gradually passed, how good it looks!' I used to think, smacking my from the hands of the working man; commercial enterprise has brought them up and changed them into hours of toil; and now, when the question is asked, What time shall we have for recreation, the answer given is, His Sabbath-day. Well, let us suppose the presumptuous and impious demand yielded, what security has he that his Sabbath once given to recreation would not soon be demanded for toil also, and the poor deluded artisan discover, when it was "Wait patiently, my child; it will not be fully ripe for a week,' said my father. lips; I wish it was all mine. The "The early apples did not taste as good; the currants were not as relishing, and the damsons I thought nothing of in comparison with this pear. longer I stopped alone under the pear-tree, the greater my longing for it, until I was seized with the idea of getting it. O, I wish I had it!' was the selfish thought that gradually got uppermost in my mind. "One night after we were in bed, my brothers fell asleep long before I did; I tossed about and could not get to sleep. I crept up and went to the window. It was a warm still summer night: there was no moon; no noise except the hum of numberless insects. My father and mother were gone away. I put my head out of the window and peeped into the garden. I traced the dark outlines of the trees. I glanced in the direction of the pear-tree. The pear-tree-then the pear! My mouth was parched; I was thirsty. I thought how good a juicy pear would taste. I was tempted. "A few moments found me creeping down the back-stairs, with neither shoes, stockings, nor trousers on. The slightest creaking frightened me. I stopped on every stair to listen. Nancy was busy somewhere else, and John had gone to bed, At last I fairly felt my way to the garden door. It was fastened. It see:ned to take me ages to unlock it, so fearful was I of making a noise, and the bolt grated. I got it open, went out, and latched it after me. It was good to get out in the cool night air. I ran down the walk. The patting of my feet made no noise on the moist earth. I stopped a moment and looked all round, then turned in the direction of the pear-tree. Presently I was beneath its branches. "Father will think the wind has knocked it off; but there was not a breath of air stirring. Father will think somebody has stolen it- some boys came in the night and robbed the garden-he'll never know. I trembled at the thought of what I was about to do. "I leaned against the trunk of the tree and raised my hand to find it, and to snatch it. On tiptoe, with my hand uplifted, and my head turned upward, I beheld a star looking down upon me through the leaves. THOU God SEEST ME!' escaped from my lips. The star seemed like the eye of God spying me out under the pear-tree. I was so frightened I did not know what to do. Thou God seest me! I could not help saying over and over again. God seemed on every side. He was looking me through and through. I was afraid to look, and hid my face. It seemed as if father and mother, and all the boys, and every body in town, would take me for a thief. It appeared as though all my conduct had been seen as by the light of day. It was some time before I dared to move, so vivid was the impression made upon my mind by the awful truth in these four words, Thou God seest me.' I knew he saw me. I felt that he saw me. "I hastened from the pear-tree; nothing on earth would at that moment have tempted me to touch the pear. With very different feelings did I creep back to my bed again. I lay down beside Asa, feeling more like a condemned criminal than any thing else. No one in the house had seen me; but O! it seemed as if every body knew it, and I should never dare meet my father's face again. It was a great while before I went to sleep. I heard my parents come home, and I involuntarily hid my face under the sheet. But I could not hide myself from a sense of God's presence. His eyes seemed every where, diving into the very depths of my heart. It started a train of influences which, God be praised, I never got over, If I was ever tempted to any secret sin, Thou God seest me, stared me in the face, and I stood back restrained and awed." "Thou God seest me.' I The gentleman finished; his story interested me greatly. I think it will interest many children. hope it will do more than interest them; I hope it may do them much good. Those four little words are from the Bible. Hagar uttered them. She filed in anger from her mistress, Sarah, and went into the wilderness. An angel met her by a fountain of water. The angel bade her return to her mistress, and told her some things in her life, which Hagar thought nobody knew but herself. "Thou God seest me," she exclaimed. Then she knew it was the angel of God, for nobody but he could look into the most secret things. Children, learn these four small words. Impress them upon your heart. Think of them when you lie down, when you get up, and when you go by the way, when alone or when with your companions, both at home and abroad, remember "Thou God seest me."-American Messenger. HELPS TO THE RESISTANCE OF SIN. GEr a sincere opposition in thy life to sin. are helps thereto :- These 1. When any bait of Satan, or old companions, would allure thee to sin, take this dilemma: Either I must repent, and then it will bring more sorrow than the pleasure did good: or not repent, and then it is the damnation of my soul. 2. Consider thy madness, which lays most desperately in one scale of the balance, heaven, the soul; in the other, a little dust, pelf, base lust, &c., favour of God, the blood of Christ, and thine own and lets this over sway, which bringeth rottenness to thy bones, perhaps loss of thy good name, &c. 3. And that thou mayest yet be further armed to withstand the assaults of thy three grand enemies, the world, the flesh, and the devil, which daily seek the destruction of thy soul; consider these twelve antidotes: (1.) Consider the shortness of the pleasure of ein, with the length of the punishment; the one for a moment, the other everlasting. (2.) Consider the companions of sin; for one sin never goes alone, but, being once entertained, it sets all the faculties of the soul also in a combustion, and so procures a spiritual judgment, if not temporal, upon estate and person. (3.) Consider, thy life is but a span, a breath, a blast soon gone: now if we had all the pleasure in the world, yet being so soon to lose it, it is not worth esteeming. (4.) Consider, sin causeth us to lose a greater good than that can be, as the favour of God, interest in Christ. (5.) Consider the uncertainty of repentance; thou mayest never repent after thou hast sinned, and so art damned. (6.) Consider the nearness of death to thee; some have lived out above half their time, others almost all of it; young and old often die suddenly. (7.) Consider, one moment in hell will be worse than all the pleasure in the world did good, though it should have lasted a thousand years twice toli. So, good than all the hardness and pains in good duties, on the contrary, one moment in heaven doth more or persecution for them, did hurt. |