who has been raising his anxious cry to the Son of David? Blessed tidings, my friend. Put thine ear to the Gospel and listen. "He calleth thee."

When they approached him the condescending Saviour said to them, "What will ye that I shall do unto you?" I have it in my power to do whatever you desire. "They say unto him, Lord, that our eyes may be opened." We come not to ask for riches or honors, but Lord, that we may receive our sight. O that you would approach him with. such direct desires for spiritual sight,-for the vision of God and the Lamb. But other things fill your minds. You are thinking more of the stripes you may receive, than of any glory which you wish to behold.

And were these humble suppliants denied? Without reluctance or delay, Jesus touched their eyes and restored their sight. And forever blessed be his name, we do assuredly know that every sinner in this house would, upon due application, be relieved with equal readiness.

While the weary and heavy laden cast a wishful look towards this scene, and perceive how Jesus came by, and how easily the blind men applied and found relief, they are ready to say, O that I had lived in that day, or that it was as easy now to find relief. Unhappy man, form no hasty conclusion against yourself. Jesus of Nazareth is as present now as he was then, and as ready to heal. With open arms he stands ready to receive you. He is very near to you, and you may apply to him without going out of your way. Hark! poor de

sponding sinner, he calleth thee. Repair to him and hear what he will say. "Unhappy soul, what wilt thou that I should do unto thee? Dost thou want pardon, thou shalt have it; holiness, thou shalt have it; happiness, heaven, thou shalt have it all. What is thy petition, and what is thy request? and it shall be done unto thee, to the half, nay to the whole of my kingdom." Dost thou not hear him? Why then not let him know thy desire? Why not seize the critical moment and pour the fervid wish into his ear, Lord, that my eyes may be opened?

It was the last time that Jesus ever passed that way before he left the world. Had these unhappy men been a little out of the way at that moment, or having been by the way, had they suffered him to pass without raising their cries of distress, they must inevitably have died blind. The next hour would have been too late. It was their last chance.

This is a solemn reflection as it relates to you, my Christless hearers. The present passage of the Saviour may prove the last chance to many of you. You have very little prospect of being called in in stupid times. In such seasons, if two or three are converted in a year in a congregation, it is as much as is expected: but what is this to the salvation of the great mass of the people? What is this to the number of births in the same congregation in the course of a year? During the present generation, almost all who have been gathered into the American Church, especially in places favored with revivals, have been brought in in seasons of revival. There is very little prospect therefore

that you, individually considered, will be brought in in times of general stupidity. And before another revival of religion, many of you, in all probability, will be in eternity, and many of the rest hardened past recovery, or at least past the age of probable conversion. It has been generally calculated that by far the greater part of the elect are called in under the age of twenty, and very few after the middle of life, and next to none in old age.

You are all flattering yourselves that you shall be prepared before you die, or else you would be agitated with great alarm. You are so confident of this that you rest secure perhaps, as though no danger was before you. But take an unawakened youth of twenty, and separate him from any revival of religion, and it is much more likely that he has a miserable eternity before him, than that he will be saved. The question of chances is always to be tried by past experience. By this rule it is tried in all insurance offices, and indeed in all the business and calculations of society. By this rule of experience then try the question respecting the prospects of that careless youth of twenty. Have half of those who have lived without God till twenty, given evidence of being afterwards converted? If so, then more than half of the people over twenty are Christians, and have been so from age to age. I say, more than half, for you must add to that half all that were converted under twenty and are now above that age: and the greater part of the elect are supposed to be converted under twenty. Now go into the most favored town in the

United States; go after the greatest revival that ever passed through it; and can you find the greater part of the people above twenty even professing religion? Such a community would be celebrated as a phenomenon throughout the Christian world. No such community was ever known. The inevitable conclusion is, that the greater part of those who live unsanctified till the age of twenty, do, even in our most favored towns, die in their sins. That careless youth then of twenty, is this moment more likely to spend his eternity in fire than on a throne of glory. This proposition is as true as that one half of the American people are not likely to live to the age of a hundred. And both propositions are as true as that two and two make four. But the case is still more discouraging. Do one in ten who have passed their twentieth year out of Christ ever profess religion? Look for Look for yourselves. Select the most favored town within your knowledge. Compare the handful at the communion table with the swarms that fill the streets. Can you find the town in which one in ten above twenty years of age profess religion? I know not the proportions, but for the present argument say one in ten. Many of these are false professors, and many of the pious were converted under twenty. Say that such has been the proportion from time immemorial, and of course is likely to continue during the present generation. Then that careless youth of twenty stands more than ten chances to one to be eternally miserable.

The great deceiver has told you all that you VOL. II.

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would be prepared before you die. And so he told the last generation of wretches who went to hell. And so he has told every generation since Adam. But while he is soothing you with this lie, it is still an awful truth that a careless youth of twenty, or even of eighteen, is far more likely to spend his eternity in hell than in heaven. Tremendous thought! enough to overwhelm the soul.

And if this is true of a careless youth of eighteen or twenty, what shall we say of a careless man of thirty? what of a stupid sinner of forty? what, of a wretched unbeliever of fifty? There are probably people in this town against whom lie a hundred chances to one, who yet are as secure as though no danger was before them, and never lift a prayer to God. And yet they are not lunatics. This is one of the most unaccountable mysteries of the moral world.

Young people often calculate to put off religion till old age; but alas few in old age are brought home to God.

Such are your dangers now. There is some more hope for you on account of this revival. But should this heavenly call be rejected,-should this revival pass off unimproved, the chances against you would be greater than they ever were before. This season will not leave you as it found you. You will never again be as you have been. You must be better or worse. Be you ever so stupid, this is a call from heaven to you. These wonders of grace which are spread around you,—these tears and entreaties which assail you,-these many opportuni