still resolved to go. And when he fixes his eye on you, among the millions called up to hear their doom in the great day of final account, remember that on the day when you read these lines, you made a choice that justly exposed you to that sentence which separates you for ever from the presence of God.

"DEPART!" O, how that sentence will fall on the ear of the finally impenitent in the last day! They who were always far from God, will then be filled with dismay, as they find that that separation is to be eternal. Prodigals whom no love could win back, will then bewail their departure, and feel, that the guilt and misery of sin are now justly the portion of those who have deserted their father's house.

9

CHAPTER VII.

Riotous living-The follies and vices of youth-Dancing, gaming, play-going, licentiousness, and other sins-The sinner wastes his substance, his time, talents, opportunities, parental counsel, the Holy Spirit, the blood of the Son of God.

THROWING the rein on the neck of his passions, the young man dashed madly on in the highway to ruin. The parable does not mention the steps of his downward course, the several sins by which he was reduced to beggary and shame, but it tells us, in one comprehensive remark, that in the far country he wasted his substance in riotous living. But we need no inspired pen to write the record of a prodigal's ruin. It will be easy, without a guide, to follow him from one haunt of vice to another, his extravagance gradually increasing, his moral sense declining, his passions growing more and more inflamed, the restraints of early instruction becoming less powerful, until his property, health,

character, self-respect, are all gone, and he is left a wreck tossed on the sea of pleasure at the mercy of winds and waves.

In the opening of this little book, I have told the story of a young man whose early fall it was that led to the preparation of these pages; and the reader will remember that the prodigal ran through a regular career of vice, beginning with amusements that in themselves are innocent, and terminating in sins that speedily make wreck of property, reputation, life and hope. Let us look at some of these pursuits, so fascinating to the young heart, and learn their nature and their final tendency. We saw that elegant young man, the ornament of a BALL-ROOM, and happy in the gay circle of which he was the life and pride; and here, in the giddy whirl of the dance, he began his career of dissipation that ended in a death of horror, the very remembrance of which, though years have since fled, now fills me with fear!

You will, perhaps, tell me that "there is a time to dance," and that there can be no sin or danger in visiting the ball-room now and then. There are seasons when, beyond

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all doubt, it is not a time to dance. Thus, it is not a time to dance,

You

1. When it is a time to mourn. would not dance at a funeral, or when your friend was dying, or your house was burning, or your life in danger. But if your sins are still unrepented of and unforgiven, with you it is a time to mourn.

You ought to be in bit

terness as one who is in bitterness for his firstborn. Your soul in danger! Your interests for eternity about to be ruined! Your all about to be burned up in the fire that is never quenched! Your friends about to perish, and with these dangers thick around you, will you dance?

2. When more important business presses for attention. If an opportunity offers of making a handsome sum of money, you would not lose the offer for the sake of spending an evening in the ball-room. You would answer the invitation by saying, that "business calls me away and I must be excused." But have you nothing to do to secure the pearl of great price, riches for eternity, the salvation of your precious soul, and will you spend perhaps the last hour of time in dancing?

3. When you are on the verge of hell! You would not dance on a precipice. You would not dance on slippery places while fiery billows roll below. Dancing there would resemble more the antics of a madman, than the rational amusements of a sound mind. But many a ball has there been on the threshold of hell.

A few years ago, at a ball in New Hampshire, four young men left the room to spend a little time in a game of cards, and while they were at play, one of them fell back in a fit and died. His companions covered up his body with cloaks, returned to the dance, and said nothing of the awful event, lest it should spoil the sport of the evening.

One of the first balls which the young man, whose history opens this book, ever attended, was marked by the following impressive incident. On the very day of the ball, a young lady who had been invited, and who was intending to be present, was summoned suddenly into the eternal world. Her residence was directly opposite the public house in which the assembly was to be held. The