1. The first cause of sorrow in old age without religion, to which I refer, is, that man has passed through a life, a reflection upon which gives him no comfort. So has the Divine Creator constituted the human mind, that man is compelled to look back continually upon his own conduct and character. Even if he would desire and endeavor to forget himself, he finds that he cannot do it. Past days and years rush involuntarily upon his recollection, and bring to him their load of joy or sorrow, and Jay it down before him for his cool and inevitable inspection. We are always laying up something for our latter days, and according as we have sown shall we then reap. To the Christian, the review of life is in many respects highly comforting. It gives him a new cause of thankfulness, if he can look back from the bed of death, and see that his whole life has been given to the God who made and upheld it; and that Ebenezers, as monuments of divine help, have been set up in every path through which he has been led. In the midst of all the trials of Job, this retrospect of divine grace, as displayed in his past life, gave him comfort, " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness unto me, because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him; the blessing of him that was ready to perish came on me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." Such reflections gave him no pain; and he gladly ascribed all the glory to the Almighty who was with him, and whose "candle shined upon his habitation." David could say, "I have been young and now am old; and yet have I never seen the righteous forsaken." Paul could look back upon a long ministry for Him who loved him when he was in the ignorance of unbelief, and say, "I am now ready to be offered; and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me in that day." The martyr Polycarp could exclaim at the close of life, "Eighty and six years have I served Jesus of Nazareth." In the same spirit every old disciple may look back upon life, and the reflection gives him consolation, as it brings to his mind new proofs of a Savior's love and faithfulness. But what sorrow, anguish, and self-crimination arise in the heart from the retrospect of a wasted life! No beam of light is cast forth upon the mind from any act or feeling that recollection brings to view. Every hour rises up as an accuser of a guilty conscience.--A remembrance of youth is a remembrance of convictions smothered, the Holy Spirit resisted, and a Savior's love despised. The thoughts of a past manhood present an awful picture of a sinner, carefully building for himself an altar from the stones of the world, and immolating upon it, to the enemy of God and man, his immortal soul. The latter years, as they have collected upon each other, and are thrusting him so rapidly from the earth, seem only the gathered impetus of that stone of neglected grace which is now ready to fall upon his soul and grind him to powder. All the resolutions and plans which he made for life have gone by unfulfilled. Every opportunity has been lost, every mercy has been abused, and the varied scenes of his past existence, which, when they were approaching seemed to be a pillar of light and hope, now that they are looked back upon, show no aspect but a thick cloud of darkness and despondency. O, what sorrow does such a life produce, and how often does it lead to the exclamation from the aged offender, " O, that I had been cut off from the womb, that I had perished from my birth!" How many of you, my beloved hearers, are thus laying up sorrows which shall consume your flesh as it were fire; or piling up the snows of age upon your heads, to serve only as the monument of your destruction; and compelled in looking back upon life to say, J “O pleasures past, what are ye now Nothing but wretchedness can arise from a life which has been spent without Christ. Old age may be crowned with human glory, loaded with earthly wealth, and having every comfort which the intercourse of men can give; but this reflection upon a murdered soul, a twice crucified Savior, a miserable bargain with Satan, will tear the glory from a royal diadem, and turn the sweetest joys of earth into anguish and poison. 2. The second sorrow of an old age without religion to which I will refer is, that man is pressing forward to an eternity for which he has no preparation. The only preparation which any sinner can have for a happy eternity is to be found in the Lord Jesus Christ, clothed with his everlasting righteousness, and receiving a free redemption through his blood. This eternity cannot be avoided. There is no discharge in this war. With resistless force man is pressed onward to the valley of the shadow of death, and whether prepared or unprepared, he must appear before the judgment-seat of Christ. This course is altogether inevitable. In youth, the thought of it seems to be easily removed, because the day of parting appears to be far off. The youth may live to be an old man, and as he thinks, will then have time enough to take care of his soul. But when old age has arrived, the hour of death cannot be far removed. Soon the limbs of the aged will be stiffened with dissolution, and an immortal soul must go to bear witness against itself before the throne of God. The prospect which before was a distant one, now comes to the very door. The man is now upon the very margin of the ocean. It spreads itself before him with inconceivable magnitude. But what is the view upon which his eyes will rest! Does this ocean shine with the glories of the sun? Does every image of beauty seem to be reflected from its waters, and sweet and ever-enduring peace to abide upon its glassy surface? Does its attractive stillness tempt him to launch upon its bosom with confidence and hope? or does he see it agitated with tempests lashed into fury with a mighty wind, rising up in anger to the heavens, only that it may the better expose the deep abyss of hell; heaving from its waters the sad mementoes of a thousand shipwrecks, and proclaiming in every roaring which strikes upon his ear, that there is no safety for this soul? Does he feel himself drawn forward by the joyous notes and the cheerful music of those who are floating upon its bosom in everlasting security? Or is he driven back upon himself by the wailings of anguish which burst from its depths, and finally, in spite of his last convulsive grasping upon some poor shrub of earthly confidence, is he plunged bound hand and foot, into all the terrors which he saw full clearly were prepared for him! O, how much is involved in this question! All resting upon the one fact, is he prepared or unprepared for judgment. Has he sought refuge, or has he not, in the hope which was set before him in the blood of Jesus Christ? How truly is that old age an evil day in which man finds no pleasure, which has no preparation for eternity, to which hope comes not that comes to all! I wonder not that the aged sinner, who is not of Christ, clings with tenacity to life,-I wonder not that he dreads to think of leaving a world beyond which there is no hope for his soul,—I wonder not that he fears an endless contrition of sorrow and anguish. But O, how unwise is he to expose himself to it! Whatever he may have gotten of earthly good, what is he now profited? Every day is now counted like the days of the criminal. To-morrow and to-morrow he may be here. But ah, the awful hour is not far removed, it cannot be, when he must be carried without hope or comfort to the bar of an offended God. And while an eternity unprovided for is thus near upon him, he feels that it would have been better for him if he had not been born. III. Another sorrow of old age without religion is, that man has experienced the vanity of the world, and has nothing to supply its place. The false paintings of the world delude the young, and palm themselves upon them for realities. They love to be thus deceived. They make no opposition to the delusions practised upon them by these enticing instruments of Satan. Wealth and pleasure and reputation seem to be proper and reasonable objects of pursuit, and in them the young vainly imagine that they can find satisfaction for their souls. But the aged have outlived these deceptions. They have experienced far too much to be induced now to believe that the present world can furnish them any abiding rest. I am addressing some, my brethren, who can tell me that they have tasted of every fountain which the earth can offer, and know that but miserable comfort is to be derived from them all. Mere sensual indulgence, whether of a light and giddy character, or of a deeper stain of pollution, can offer them nothing, for they have no feelings or desires to which such provisions are suitable. Money can do them no good, for it will require but very little to purchase for them a grave or a coffin, and soon these will be all they shall want. Their own characters can furnish them no consolation, though a thousand sycophants should praise their course of life; for they see that man judgeth by the outward appearance, but God looketh upon the heart. When they were young, they could be active and occupied, and thus had power to divert their minds from that deep consciousness of deficiency which even then was felt. But now other hands have taken their employments. They have been released from active labors. Many hours in the day must be passed in thought; and they cannot help thinking of themselves. They are obliged often to sit down in a contemplation of their own past and future existence, and their minds present a perfect blank, so far as any source or object of comfort is to be found. The world recedes and disappears; its cisterns are all broken, its springs are dried, its flowers have withered, its joys have become entirely tasteless; and in the midst of all this wilderness of the soul, they can find no fresh springs of hope or peace. Their days are consumed from the earth; they flee away and yet they see no good. There is nothing now which they would not give, they think, for a well-grounded hope. of everlasting rest. And no joy seems to them more important than that which would have arisen from an early and cordial acceptance of the loving-kindness of Jesus Christ. But alas, vain as the world is, it is all they have. They have laid up their treasure here. They have here sought their joys and comforts; and they have no treasure in any more continuing city. They ask for religious hope, but it seems to flee far from them. They call for Jesus, but he appears to turn a deaf ear to their cries. They try to persuade themselves then that they have been always believers, but conscience will not be charmed to silence. Neither alleged faith, nor attempted infidelity can furnish them what they want. They would be glad to believe that there is no hell. They sometimes say that they do believe so. But alas, their hearts cannot rest upon it They are troubled and terrified after all; for all the awful words of the Scriptures still press upon their recollection, and knock away the props upon which they have built this vain idea. They are thus left without one source of comfort, and struggling with wretchedness and despair; they feel that the man out of Christ has no hope, though he has gained in this world, when God taketh away his soul. I refer upon this occasion to none other of the sorrows of age without religion. The three sources of painful reflection which I have suggested, are sufficient to awaken attention to this matter. "If a man live many years, so that the days of his years be many, and his soul be not filled with good, I say that an untimely birth is better than he." Why is it so? Because he has passed a long life, and he has no comfort in looking back upon it, for it is only by filling his soul with good, that the remembrance of many days can give him peace: Because he is pressed to the very margin of a boundless eternity, for which he has made no preparation; for it is only a soul filled with good that can be a preparation for eternity: because he has proved that the world can do him no good, and he has nothing which can supply its place. It cannot fill his soul, and he has made no other provision for its failure which might receive him to everlasting habitations. Surely then the assertion of my text is proved to be established upon a true foundation. And every hearer who has come to old age in an unconverted state, has infinite reason to shake himself from the dust, to give up every thought about any other object, and to consecrate singly to this great purpose of his soul's salvation every remaining hour of life. I feel no sorrow in driving the aged who are without Christ to despair. When they do feel and care enough about the matter to despair, I shall have hope that the Lord is so overturning all their long-standing self-righteousness, that he may build for them a city which hath foundations, which shall be eternal in the heavens. It is not despair which is likely to injure them. They are perishing in lethargy, in cold and heartless unconcern, and the sooner they despair of accomplishing any thing but eternal ruin in their present course, the better will it be for them. Having applied to them peculiarly my former discourse upon this subject, let me now address the word of exhortation to those who have not quite attained this period of life. There are many of you, in youth and in maturity, who are postponing to old age the concern which you ought now to feel about your souls. I would that you could be convinced of the folly of this course of self-destruction. What have you seen attractive in the picture I have set before you of an irreligious old age? Why will you persist in your determination thus to seek the living among the dead! Can you present to your minds one rational excuse for the course you are pursuing? Travelling in the broad road to death, beholding the pit bottomless and open, knowing that no soul ever returned from its darkness and despair, can you hope to find a reconciled God at the close of this persevering and determined course of folly? No, I solemnly proclaim to every soul in this assembly who is thus pushing forward the day of return to God, refusing the firstfruits of the harvest, and leaving only the gleanings of a wasted mortality to the living God, that the rest of God will never be found. You are laying up in store nothing but wrath and destruction. You are provoking a God, justly offended, to withdraw his Spirit from you. You are crushing the Spirit of God, as he lifts up his admonitions in your heart, with the vainly gilded determination of final ruin. You are not postponing a day of return,-you are thrusting it from you for ever. Do not deceive yourselves with any false expectations of a future repentance. You will never repent. Satan is rejoicing this moment over every procrastinating soul, in the assurance that he has accomplished his design. Let him persuade you to go from this place with the plan of becoming religious when you become old, and his work is finished. Your souls are lost. The day of your conversion will never come; and the door of hope will be closed against you for ever. To-morrow is good for nothing to you. Now is your proper time of return to God; and that return now neglected will be neglected for ever: You will go out in darkness, and your name shall be covered with darkness, and the only lasting record of your existence will be the remembrance of God, that you were a poor, obstinately deluded creature, that was led to bargain away eternal life for a paltry provision of this perishing world. Now is your accepted time and your day of salvation. And may the Holy Ghost be pleased to apply to your hearts these solemn truths, to persuade you to improve it. Amen. END OF VOL. VI. TERMS OF THE N. PREACHER 1. The Monthly Numbers, usually contain two Sermons. II. Price, One Dollar and Twenty-five Cents, annually, on the receipt of he sixth Number, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents, on the receipt of the welfth Number; or One Dollar only, if paid in advance, or on becoming a Subscriber. III. Such as do not pay up arrearages and give the Editor notice of a desire discontinue taking the work at the end of a Volume, are responsible for the cceeding Volume,-agreeably to common law in regard to periodicals. Postmasters are hereby authorized to receive and forward payents to the Editor, at his risk, as well as names of Subscribers. Correspondents will be careful in naming the individuals to whom edit is to be given, and the Post-Office and State to which the Work is to e sent. Letters may be directed, FOST-PAID, to AUSTIN DICKINSON, 144 Nassau-street, New-York. TESTIMONIALS. From the Quarterly Christian Spectator. 6 "We do not hesitate to say, that Mr. Dickinson has adopted one of the happiest pedients hitherto devised, for eliciting that diversity of gifts,' in the Christian nistry, which infinite wisdom and benevolence have bestowed for the edification of body of Christ, and for bringing sinners to the foot of the cross." From Professors of Princeton Theological Seminary. The plan, proposed by the Rev. AUSTIN DICKINSON, of publishing a Monthly ries of Sermons, from the pens of respectable ministers of different denomiions of Christians in the United States, is one, which, in our opinion, may be dered highly interesting, and extensively useful. We do therefore willingly ommend the undertaking to the patronage of the Christian community. A. ALEXANDER. |