72 Sermon Illustrations on Judgment

As there is a parity of guilt between the thief and the receiver, so there seems to be the like between the teller and the hearer of a malicious report; and that upon very great reason. For who would knock where he despaired of entrance? Or what husbandman would cast his seed but into an open and a prepared furrow? So it is most certain, that ill tongues would be idle, if ill ears were not open. And therefore it was an apposite saying of one of the ancients, that both the teller and hearer of false stories ought equally to be hanged; but one by the tongue, the other by the ears: and, were every one of them so served, I suppose nobody would be so fond of those many mischiefs brought by such persons upon the peace of the world, as to be concerned to cut them down, unless, perhaps, by cutting off the forementioned parts by which they hung. Dr. South.

He has his fears; they are realized: he has his hopes; they are frustrated and lost. The fears are well founded, the hopes delusive and vain. They are based and built on false and deceitful views of himself and God. They have no foundation in truth. They are like the house built on the sand, which may stand in the summer's sunshine and calm, but gives way with tremendous and utter downfall before the storm and the flood of winter. "His expectation shall perish." He flattered himself with its stability; but it was while it was untried: in the end, he is buried in its ruins. "His hope is as the giving-up of the ghost." The vision that has deceived him, the unreal phantom that has cheated his eyes, and allured his wandering steps onward and upward to the gates of hell, shall vanish then in "the blackness of darkness forever:" all his fears fulfilled, all his hopes blasted. Dr. R. Wardlaw.

As a guilty man whose conscience doth accuse him would never see the judge, and a traitor would never willingly be copied of his prince, nor a disloyal person of one that knoweth him, and, on the other side, a true and faithful subject that hath done dutiful service, desireth the presence of the prince in hope to be well rewarded: so the wicked and ungodly ones of the world are grieved to hear of Christ's coming to judge the quick and the dead; but they that have lived with good consciences do groan for his coming. Caudray.

Archibald Boyle was a resident of Glasgow, and the leading member of a wicked and infidel association called "The Hell Club." The efforts of its members were to outdo each other in blasphemy and debauchery. At their meetings, Boyle, by his culture, boldness, and brilliant talents, outshone all; while, outside of the club, he was a favorite in female society. One night, after returning from his carousals in the club, he dreamed, that as he was riding home on his black horse, in the darkness, some one seized the reins, and said, "You must go with me!"—"And who are you?" cried Boyle, struggling to free the reins from the intruder's grasp. "That you will see by and by," was the cold reply. Boyle spurred his horse cruelly; and the steed flew forward with a speed that nearly deprived his rider of breath. The mysterious guide still kept his hold of the reins. Boyle made one more desperate effort to disengage his reins from the iron grasp of his guide. His horse reared and plunged: Boyle was thrown, and fell down, down, down, with ever-increasing velocity. Discovering his resistless attendant at his side, he exclaimed, "Where are you taking me? where am I? where am I going?"—"To hell," replied the unrelenting voice. They hurried forward till the echoes of the groans and yells of frantic revelry saluted their ears. They entered a grand arched way, and stood within the precincts of hell. There Boyle beheld the inmates, chasing the same phantoms they had pursued in life. He soon perceived that he was surrounded by those whom he had known on earth, and ventured to address his former friend Mrs. D., whom he saw sitting, as she was wont on earth, apparently absorbed in her favorite game of loo. "Ha, Mrs. D.! delighted to see you: d'ye know a fellow told me to-night he was bringing me to hell? Ha, ha! if this be hell, what a devilish pleasant place it must be! Ha, ha! Come now, Mrs. D., for auld lang syne, do just stop for a moment, rest, and," he was about to add, "show me through the pleasures of hell;" when she answered, with a shriek that awoke awful echoes as loud as thunder, "THERE IS NO BEST IN HELL!" The lady unclasped the vest of her gorgeous robe, and displayed to his shuddering gaze a coil of living snakes writhing, stinging, darting, in her bosom. Others followed her example. In some, he saw throbbing hearts, on which distilled drops of molten metal, under which they writhed in hopeless agony. In every bosom, he saw that which we cannot conceive or describe, so horrible was the vision. They laughed and sang and blasphemed, as they had done on earth. Then he heard an unearthly voice proclaim, "These are the pleasures of hell," which echoed mockingly like distant thunder. He saw those who had been dead thousands of years, still engaged in the sinful pleasures they loved in life. He saw a companion of his boyish profligacy rushing on, as if in the heat of the chase, and called after him, "Stop, speak to me! Oh, rest one moment!" Scarcely had he uttered the words, before the wild yell of ten thousand voices stunned his terror-stricken ear, "There is no rest in hell." Boyle tried to shut his eyes, but could not: he tried to rest upon the pavement, but was by it instantly thrown upon his feet. He was compelled to gaze upon the steady torrent of woe and horror. His conductor stood again by his side. Boyle addressed him, "Take me from this place! by the living God, whose name I have so often outraged, I adjure thee, take me from this place!" — "Canst thou still name his name?" replied his guide, "Go, then; but, in a year and a day, we meet to part no more." At this, Boyle awoke, feeling that these last words were as letters of fire burned into his very heart. He was unable to leave his bed for several days. The impression was so deep, that he resolved never again to attend the club. His old companions flocked around him, and used every artifice to draw him back to his old ways. At last, one of them won upon his confidence by feigning similar disgust with his former life. To him, Boyle related his dream. The decoy then turned upon him with great power of ridicule, and gained his purpose. At the club, he found no relief. He grew haggard and gray under the lash of conscience and fear of the future. He shrank from the annual meeting, when the time allotted him by his guide in his dream would expire; but his companions forced him to attend. Every nerve of his body writhed in agony at the first sentence of the president's opening address: "Gentlemen, this is leap year; therefore it is a year and a day since our last annual meeting." Boyle would have rushed from the room, had he dared. He could bear the wrath of the Almighty easier than the sneers of his fellows. They plied him with wine; but his wit was gloomy, and his laugh fiendish. At the close, he mounted his horse to ride home. In the morning, his horse was discovered grazing quietly by the roadside, and a few yards distant lay the stiffened corpse of Archibald Boyle. The dream was fulfilled. The strange guide claimed him at the appointed time.

Beware, says Mr. Wesley, of forming a hasty judgment concerning the fortune of others. There may be secrets in the situation of a person, which few but God are acquainted with. Some years since I told a gentleman, "Sir, I am afraid you are covetous." He asked me, "What is the reason of your fears?" I answered, "A year ago, when I made a collection for the expense of repairing the Foundry, you subscribed five guineas. At the subscription made this year you subscribed only half a guinea." He made no reply, but after a time asked, "Pray, sir, answer me a question: Why do you live upon potatoes?" (I did so between three and four years.) I replied, "It has much

### CHILI

### 79. Moral and Religious Influence of Children.

YARD AND THE DISTILLERY.—An elder of the church in ——, New-York, owned a distillery, and manufactured ardent spirits. The elder was an active Christian, and seemed quite awake to the benevolent efforts of the day. His pastor was grieved that so worthy a man should be engaged in a business which brought ruin temporal and eternal upon his fellow-men: and resolved to give him faithful warning. While visiting the elder at his house, the elder looked to the grave-yard, and said, "I love to look there—it seems to be the way to

### 145. DOUBTS AND FEARS

By one of the laws of Pittacus, one of the seven wise men of Greece, every fault committed by a person when intoxicated, was deemed worthy of a double punishment.

# EWS.

ty years' captivity and then brought home again: but now there is no end of our calamities, nor do the prophets promise any."

"If," says Bishop Patrick, "this argument was hard to be answered then, in his days, it is much harder in ours, who still see them pursued by God's vengeance; which can be for nothing else but rejecting and crucifying the Messiah, the Savior of the world."

The Rev. John Cooke, of Maidenhead, once, when traveling, fell in with a rich farmer, who was very unwilling to listen to any serious remarks which he was disposed to make, and at length said, with a sneer, "I don't like religion; and I told you so." "You are not a singular farmer, sir," replied Mr. Cooke. "I have read of one whom you greatly resemble. The farmer to whom I allude, finding his ground very productive, and his barns too small, resolved on building larger barns and filling them; and said to his soul, 'Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?' Luke xii. 19, 20. Now, sir, I think you must see yourself in this picture. Here is a farmer, very rich, living to himself in health, ease, and pleasure, 'without God in the world.' No doubt his neighbors envied and flattered him; but no one dared to reprove so rich a man. And if no one reproved his sins, and many flattered them as virtues, he never heard the truth. This accounts for our Lord's words, 'How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! But although he thought himself wise, and others wished to be like him, God addresses him differently,—' Thou fool!'

"Why, sir, do you suppose the only wise God called him a fool?" He was silent.

"But, candidly, do not you think he was a fool?"

"I shall not say, sir."

"Well, sir, if you will allow me to hazard an opinion, he appears a fool,—

"1. Because he preferred his body to his soul.

"2. Because he preferred the world to God: 'Eat, drink, and be merry,' was the extent of his aim.

"3. Because he preferred time to eternity: 'Thou hast goods laid up for many years.'

4. "Because he lived as if he should never die; and, whilst presuming on many years, exposed his soul to all the horrors of sudden death, without repentance, without forgiveness, without holiness, and without hope."

In one of the Middle States, a Universalist preacher made great efforts to establish a society of his own faith. A few persons, of little character and influence, were deeply anxious that such a society should be formed amongst them, but knew not how to effect their object and build a house. It was finally agreed, that the preacher and one of his followers should wait on a distinguished judge who resided in the village, and solicit his patronage. The judge heard the loquacious preacher with great patience for almost half an hour, when he closed by asking the judge's aid in establishing the society.

"No," says the judge: "I shall not be disposed, sir, to lend you any assistance in forming such a society. For in the first place, it seems to me he trusted that he had confessed his sins, he died, hoping for pardon, through the boundless mercy of God in the Redeemer.

## SALISM.

that your system of faith is not supported by the holy Scriptures. I confess I am not so thoroughly versed in those writings as I ought to be; yet I should hardly know how to express the eternity of future punishment more clearly than I often see it there described. But this, sir, I do believe, (let the Scriptures say what they may,) that were all clergymen to preach this doctrine which you preach, there would soon be a hell in this world, if not in the next." The judge then added with seriousness, that, if all who profess to preach the gospel were to adopt and inculcate such sentiments, he did not believe it would be possible to hold civil society together. Human laws would be trampled under foot, and their penalties, if not backed by Divine threatenings, would be but a subject of mockery. With these views, he must be excused from making any efforts to establish a Universalist society in that place or any other.

Lord Clarendon, illustrious in the annals of England, is very explicit in his denunciations of this custom. "Of all the punishments and judgments which the provoked anger of divine Providence can pour out upon a nation full of transgressions, there is none so terrible and destroying as war. A whole city on fire is a spectacle replete with horror; but a whole kingdom on fire must be a prospect much more terrible. And such is every kingdom in war, where nothing flourishes but rapine, blood, and murder. We cannot make a more lively representation and emblem to ourselves of hell, than by the view of a kingdom in war."

As a man who borrows a thing of his neighbor to use, if he spoils it, the neighbor will not take it back again; so men who ruin their souls by sin cannot return them to God at death, but he refuses to receive them. Cawdray.