I will notice only one additional character of repentance, indispensably necessary to prove it sincere, and to render it effective; even that it be immediately operative; that it include a resolution to forsake the sin that does so easily beset us, not only hereafter, at some uncertain era, some remote futurity, when we shall arrive at some more favourable situation; but instantly, from the present, whatever temptations may assail, whatever difficulties may oppress us.

The nature of such penitence is fully illustrated by our divine Lord, in a case as trying to the pride and malignity of our fallen nature, as can be conceived, even where the heart is agitated by enmity, and inflamed by hatred. "If thou bring thy gift to the altar," says our Lord, "and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee"*—what does he command? Is it that we shall determine to lay aside this enmity as soon as a favourable opportunity shall occur of effecting a reconciliation, without any apparent inconsistency of conduct, any diminution of our character for steadiness and spirit-that we shall be reconciled to our brother, as soon as he meets us halfway, and indicates a disposition of returning kindness? No such thing: our Lord's direction is plain and precise, "leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." Whatever depends upon us to effect a reconciliation must be done instantly, sincerely, openly. Till that is done, no pretence of repentance can be admitted; no supplication to the throne of mercy will be heard. In every other case, the principle and the duty are undoubtedly the same. The sin must be forsaken, before the sinner can presume to hope for pardon from the Searcher of hearts, and Judge of man. That dilatoriness in the penitential resolve, which defers its execution-I will not say until old age deprives us of the power of indulging our sinful lusts, or the terrors of impending death appal our souls ; I do not mean such delay of repentance as this, for such is a plain mockery of God-but such delay, in carrying into effect the penitential resolve, as waits the some more convenient season, far from indicating true repentance, proves a deep and

Matt. v. 23.

rooted love for that sin, which we see, and acknowledge, is hateful to God; but which we determine thus to foster and cherish in despite of him; contriving this salvo of future repentance, and consequent impunity, to prolong and sweeten present transgression. What an insult is this to our all-pure, all-seeing Judge!-No, my fellow Christians, away with such weak and wicked trifling, such an impious attempt to reconcile the service of God and mammon, to enjoy the present pleasures of sin, and yet secure, as we hope, the rewards of that virtue, which we never shall attain. The kingdom of heaven is, to each of us, at hand. In whatever state death shall leave us, judgment will assuredly find us;—and who can say how soon he may be summoned to appear before the tribunal of his Judge? Who can say whether this may not be the last opportunity, which that longsuffering mercy, we have so often abused, shall vouchsafe to us of improving the ministry of God's word for our salvation; the last time we shall hear the awful warning? Suppose ye that those who have been cut off in the prime of life, or the maturity of years, with their sins unrepented of and unforgiven; think ye, that these were sinners more than ye :-"I tell you, nay: but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."*

Luke xiii. 3, 5.

25

SERMON III.

THE DANGER OF DEFERRING REPENTANCE.

ACTS XXIV. 25.

"And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time, when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee,"

IN the character and conduct of the unhappy man whom the sacred history here represents as agitated with the terrors of guilt, and yet deferring the hour of reformation, there is something singularly instructive and awfully alarming; and it is well worth our while, my fellow Christians, to investigate the grounds of that alarm which agitated his soul, and the nature of that delusion which so fatally counteracted its salutary influence and if we discover in ourselves grounds for any similar terror, or symptoms of any similar delusion, much does it import us thoroughly to probe our hearts, and try our lives, that we may burst the bonds of sin, and escape the wrath of God. May his assisting grace enable us to improve the solemn lesson we are now considering, to the salvation of our immortal souls! The first cause of the terror of Felix was, undoubtedly, the awful nature of the truths which St. Paul preached-truths to him new as well as alarming. Educated in the darkness of Paganism, the glorious light of the Gospel now for the first time burst on his astonished sight. Educated to adore the impure and degrading objects of Pagan idolatry-ignorant of a future state, or of future retribution, except in the fictions of poetry, or the terrors of a vulgar superstition, he now for the first time was taught that he must appear before the holy and all-perfect Judge, the great Jehovah, in whose presence cherubim and seraphim veil their faces, "who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity;" the all-searching, omnipresent God, "who

is about our path and about our bed, and spieth out all our ways." With what agitation must the first effulgence of the majesty of an all-righteous God, have filled the soul of the degraded worshipper of those base idols, whom the heathen world adored with what alarm must such a man have heard of that hour, when an omnipotent God should arraign before his tribunal the assembled myriads of mankind, and judge the world in righteousness! With what feelings must such a man have seen, delineated by a heaven-directed hand, the images of the worm that never dieth, the fire that never shall be quenched, and that fearful darkness where shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth! But if the general nature of those awful truths which the apostle preached was the primary cause of the terror of Felix, unquestionably the peculiar circumstances of his own character and his own conduct greatly aggravated that terror, and armed the energetic denunciations of the apostle with tenfold power to agitate his guilty soul. For, in the first place, Felix was proud-proud of his birth as a Roman of high rank, proud of his dignity as a governor and the favourite of Cæsar, proud as the representative of imperial majesty, surrounded with his guards, seated on his throne, armed with the power of life and death, he probably at first regarded with scorn and contempt the prisoner now arraigned at his tribunal-a prisoner of humble rank, the preacher of a despised sect. The governor of Judea, accustomed to blind obedience, to unceasing adulation from all about him, had probably trampled on every right of his inferiors, however clear or sacred, and till now he had never heard the voice of censure, still less a threat of punishment; he feared no superior but the Roman emperor, who, himself a monster of vice and cruelty, was easily led to protect the crimes of his vicegerents, if they in their turn were submissive and servile to himself. But when the apostle reasoned of righteousness and judgment to come, he sounded an alarm which, until that moment, had never struck upon the Roman's ear. Now, for the first time, he was, as it were, called to answer for all his crimes to a superior, before whom the master himself of the Roman world sunk into insignificance-even the Lord of lords and King of kings, "all whose works are truth and his ways judgment; and those that walk in pride he is able

to abase."*

Before his dread tribunal Felix was now for the first time cited to appear, and answer for his accumulated crimes, his unjust decisions, his arbitrary edicts, his multiplied oppressions. No wonder, then, that when he heard this dread summons from the ambassador of God, who had proved his authority by uncontrolled miracles, and who now delivered his message with the dignity of truth and the firmness of a heaven-inspired fortitude, no wonder the Roman governor should tremble on his throne. This was a summons he had not expected—this was a superior to whom he was not prepared to answer. No wonder that, at such a call, his cheek should grow pale and his knees smite one another. Yes, my friends, such must ever be the horror of conscious guilt, when called on to appear in the presence of the all-righteous Judge.

The next peculiarity in the character of Felix, which must have added new terrors to the denunciations of the apostle, was his indulgence in criminal pleasure. Abandoned to sensuality and voluptuousness, he hesitated at no crimes for the gratification of his foul and degrading passions. He had for a length of time lived in an adulterous connexion with Drusilla, a beautiful but abandoned woman, who, though a Jewess, though educated in the knowledge of the true God, and instructed in the principles and sanctions of his holy law, yielded to the seductions of passion and ambition, forsook her former husband, though of high dignity, to share the more exalted authority and more splendid magnificence of the Roman governor. Alas! my friends, how does the deceitfulness of sin blind the eyes and harden the heart; what shameless audacity does it too frequently inspire! Felix could not have been ignorant of the general character and religious strictness of St. Paul; and Drusilla, it is probable, was still more clearly apprised of the tenets of the new sect, which claimed to be the completion of the prophecies, the perfection of the law, a system of the purest morals, and of the clearest divine authority. Yet neither of them seems to have felt the smallest emotion of shame, at the idea of appearing, with the open avowal of their guilty union, before the most distinguished teacher of this holy law; nay,

Dan. iv. 37.