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THERE is nothing so indispensably necessary towards the establishment of future earthly, as well as heavenly happiness, as early impressions of piety. For, as religion is the sole source of all human welfare and peace, so habits of religious reflection, in the spring of life, are the only means of arriving at a due sense of the importance of divine concerns in age, except by the bitter and hazardous roads of repentance and remorse. There is not a more awful spectacle in nature, than the death-bed of a late repentance. The groans of agony which attend the separation of the soul from the body, heightened by the heart-piercing exclamation of mental distress; the dreadful ebullitions of horror and remorse, intermingled with the half-fearful, but fervent deprecations of the divine wrath, and prayers for the divine mercy, joined to the pathetic imploring to the friends who stand weeping around the bed of the sinner to pray for him, and to take warning from his awful end, contribute to render this scene such an impressive and terrible memento of the state of those who have neglected their souls, as must bring to a due sense of his duty the most hardened of infidels.

It is to ensure you, my young friends, as far as precept can ensure you, from horrors like these in your last moments, that I write this little book, in the hopes that, through the blessing of the Divine Being, it may be useful in inducing you to reflect on the importance of early piety, and lead you into the cheerful performance of your duties to God, and to your own souls. In the pursuit of this plan, I shall, first, consider the bliss which results from a pious disposition, and the horrors of a wicked one. Secondly, the necessity of an early attention to the concerns of the soul towards the establishment of permanent religion, and its consequent happiness; and, thirdly, I shall point out and contrast the last moments of those who have acted in conformity, or in contradiction to the rules here laid down.

The contrast between the lives of the good and the wicked man affords such convincing arguments in support of the excellence of religion, that, even those infidels who have dared to assert their disbelief of the doc

trine of Revelation, have confessed that in a political point of view, if in no other, it ought to be maintained. Compare the peaceful and collected course of the virtuous and pious man, with the turbulent irregularity and violence of him who neglects his soul for the allurements of vice, and judge for yourselves of the policy of the conduct of each, even in this world. Whose pleasures are the most exquisite? Whose delights the most lasting? Whose state is the most enviable? His who barters his hopes of eternal welfare for a few fleeting moments of brutal gratification, or his who, while he keeps a future state alone in his view, finds happiness in the conscientious performance of his duties, and the scrupulous fulfilment of the end of his sojourn here? Believe me, my friends, there is no comparison between them. The joys of the infatuated mortal who sacrifices his soul to his sensualities, are mixed with bitterness and anguish. The voice of conscience rises distinctly to his ear, amid the shouts of intemperance and the sallies of obstreperous mirth. In the hour of rejoicing, she whispers her appalling monitions to him, and his heart sinks within him, and the smile of triumphant villany is converted into the ghastly grin of horror and hopelessness. But, oh! in the languid intervals of dissipation; in the dead hour of the night, when all is solitude and silence, when the soul is driven to commune with itself, and the voice of remorse, whose whispers were before half drowned in the noise of riot, rises dreadfully distinct-What!-what are his emotions !-Who can paint his agonies, his execrations, his despair! Let that man lose again, in the vortex of fashion, and folly, and vice, the remembrance of his horrors: let him smile, let him laugh and be merry; believe me, my dear readers, he is not happy, he is not careless, he is not the jovial being he appears to be. His heart is heavy within him; he cannot stifle the reflections which assail him in the very moment of enjoyment; but strip the painted veil from his bosom, lay aside the trappings of folly, and that man is miserable, and not only so, but he has purchased that misery at the expense of eternal torment.

Let us oppose to this awful picture the life of the good 'man; of him who rises in the morning with cheerfulness,

to praise his Creator for all the good he hath bestowed upon him, and to perform with studious exactness the duties of his station; and lays himself down on his pillow in the evening in the sweet consciousness of the applause of his own heart. Place this man on the stormy seas of misfortune and sorrow-press him with afflictive dispensations of Providence-snatch from his arms the object of his affections-separate him forever from all he loved and held dear on earth, and leave him isolated and an outcast in the world,-he is calm-he is composed-he is grateful-he weeps, for human nature is weak, but he still preserves his composure and resignationhe still looks up to the Giver of all good with thankfulness and praise, and perseveres with calmness and fortitude in the paths of righteousness. His disappointments cannot overwhelm him, for his chief hopes are placed far, very far, beyond the reach of human vicissitude. 'He hath chosen that good part, which none can take away from him.'

Here then lies the great excellence of religion and piety; they not only lead to eternal happiness, but to the happiness of this world; they not only ensure everlasting bliss, but they are the sole means of arriving at that degree of felicity which this dark and stormy being is capable of, and are the sole supports in the hour of adversity and affliction. How infatuated then must that man be, who can wilfully shut his eyes to his own welfare, and deviate from the paths of righteousness which lead to bliss. Even allowing him to entertain the erroneous notion that religion does not lead to happiness in this life, his conduct is incompatible with every idea of a reasonable being. In the Spectator we find the following image employed to induce a conviction of the magnitude of this truth: supposing the whole body of the earth were a great ball, or mass of the finest sand, and that a single grain, or particle of this sand, should be annihilated every thousand years; supposing then that you had it in your choice to be happy all the while this prodigious mass was consuming, by this slow method, till there was not a grain of it left, on condition that you were to be miserable ever after; or supposing that you might be happy forever after, on condition you would

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be miserable till the whole mass of sand were thus annihilated, at the rate of one sand a thousand years; which of these two cases would you make your choice? It must be confessed that in this case so many

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THE life of man is transient and unstable; its fairest passages are but a lighter shade of evil, and yet those passages form but a disproportionate part of the picture. We all seek Happiness, though with different degrees of avidity, while the fickle object of our pursuits continually evades the grasp of those who are the most eager in the chase; and, perhaps at last throws herself into the arms of those who had entirely lost all sight of her, and who, when they are most blessed with her enjoyment, are least conscious that they possess her. Were the objects in which we placed the consummation of our wishes always virtuous, and the means employed to arrive at the bourn of our desires uniformly good, there can be little doubt that the aggregate of mankind would be as happy as is consistent with the state in which they live but, unfortunately vicious men pursue vicious ends by vicious means, and, by so doing, not only ensure their own misery, but they overturn and destroy the fair designs of the wiser and the better of their kind. Thus he who has no idea of a bliss beyond the gratification of his brutal appetites, involves in the crime of seduction, the peace and the repose of a good and happy family, and an individual act of evil extends itself by a continued impulse over a large portion of society. It is thus that men of bad minds become the pests of the societies of which they happen to be members. It is thus that the virtuous among men pay the bitter penalty of the crimes and follies of their unworthy fellows.

Men who have passed their whole lives in the lap of luxury and enjoyment, have no idea of misery beyond that of which they happen to be the individual objects.

Lyman Thurston & Co. Stereotypers.

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