SERMON S.

SERMON I.*

GENESIS xlvii. 8.

"AND PHARAOH SAID UNTO JACOB, HOW OLD ART THOU ?

NOTHING can be more exquisitely simple and affecting, than the answer, which this inquiry drew, from the venerable patriarch: "The days of the years of my pilgrimage, are an hundred and thirty years few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers, in the days of their pilgrimage."

But I shall not stay, to enlarge upon the circumstances of this particular case. I shall, at once, propose the words of my text, as a question, which every individual who hears me, would be wise in often putting, with solemn seriousness, to himself. The inquiry is suited, with a peculiar fitness, to the present moment. We have arrived, this day,

*Preached on New-Year's Day.

B

Are

at the commencement of another year. One of those brief periods, so few of which make up the whole of life's amount-one more of these has closed. Another year has joined the years beyond the flood; and left us so much nearer our latter end. We have, this day, as it were, taken one step more, down that descent, which brings us to the boundless ocean of eternity, where all is to be left behind, and we are to embark for ever. we preparing for the voyage? Are we in readiness, like those who know not at what instant the summons may arrive? Are we making our calculations, like those who really believe that the day of eternity will shortly dawn? Do we often examine, how the glass of life is running? Do we inquire of conscience, like one who called to the prophet, and said, "watchman, what of the night?" Do we, in a word, often put the serious question to ourselves," How old art thou?"

But since this may not be the case, and since, at all events, it is a matter, on which we cannot be too frequently reminded; I desire to address myself, to each individual in this assembly, separately, and with all the pointed application of a personal inquiry, and to say; how much of the time allotted you here, is gone? how near are you, in the ordinary course of nature, drawing to eternity? "How old art thou?"

One class of you might, indeed, reply; “It is

still but the morning of life with us: we are but young; and, in the usual course of things, many years lie between us, and the closing scene of life." To this the obvious answer is: look around you, and you will see the young dying as well as the old. Nay; the life of very young persons, is still more precarious, than that of the adult, or even of the aged: and, in all probability, some who now hear me, will never reach to years of manhood. But I desire to give the subject quite another turn; and request, for the advice I am just going to offer, the particular attention of all the children, now here present before God.

You have, my young friends, in your hands, and in your power, what many grown persons would give worlds to purchase, had they, indeed, worlds to give, and could worlds call back the past. I mean the commencement of life; those hours for sowing the good and precious seed; that bright morning which, if rightly used, will shine, more and more, unto the perfect day, and expand into a happy life, and a happy immortality. Alas! if you but knew the secret agonies, which swell the bosoms of many, who have thrown away their early opportunities; whose seed-time is over, and no seeds sown, but those of remorse and bitterness you would rejoice, with joy unspeakable, at still being young; at still being able to set out

well; to remember your Creator, in the days of your youth; and lay up, for the evening of your days, as far as belongs to fallen man, "the calm remembrance of a life well spent." Too many will be apt to tell you, that you were born in innocence, and that your faults are but playful follies, and the fruits of harmless nature. But you, I trust, have been better taught. You were born in sin you bring into the world a sinful nature: and your hearts, (need I tell the youngest of you?) are prone to depart from the living God. If you were what man was once in Paradise, you, like the holy angels, would have no pleasure, but in doing your heavenly Father's will; no employment, but love to God, and love to all around you. But from this happy state you fell: and none but that gracious Being, who came down from heaven, can restore a sinful creature, to the sunshine of God's favor. He alone was innocent, and undefiled by sin. But he died, the just for the unjust, that he might bring you to God. And is it too early, while you are still young, to love and serve that dearest of friends, and best of benefactors? Is it too early, to secure that bright crown, which all who confess that Saviour on earth shall wear in heaven? Is it too early, to accept that happiness, which true religion is sure to bring-to fly the dark and dreary road which leads to hell, and set out upon that path of pleasantness and peace, which, through a

When

Saviour's merits, conducts the soul to heaven? Many of you, I know, have read the lives and deaths of pious children. But if you would read such memorials, with real benefit, resolve that you will be followers of these youthful soldiers of the cross, as they were followers of Christ. you rise from the perusal of one of their interesting and affecting stories, and see how God, out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, can perfect praise; how children can adorn his gospel, in their lives, and "infants glorify him, by their deaths;" do not suffer the impression to pass from you, as if it were that, merely, of an amusing tale: but say to yourself, "Why should not I become an early saint, like this? I have the same Saviour, the same Spirit, the same God, to go to; the same eternity is before me; and the same heaven is opened to receive me!" Oh! Remember, that religion does not consist in giving ready answers, and in saying fine things. Religion is nothing, or worse than nothing, unless it show itself in daily practice. Well, then, begin the new year with this resolution; that you will devote your childhood, and your youth, to God. Accompany that resolve with fervent prayer; and God will hear it, and grant your heart's desire. Angels will listen, and rejoice: and approving conscience will attest the truth of that, which you have so often repeated in your hymn: