ergies are awakened when God thus re-consecrates it; its sensibilities are restored; and, resuming its primeval ministry, as an ever watchful Levite in the temple of man's bosom, it responds to every word addressed to it by God, and faithfully impresses it on his heart. Let not the mists of prejudice obscure it, nor the fury of passions crush it. Follow its impulse when thus retouched, as a magnetic needle within, or a compass in the wide waste desert of the world.

This message is also powerfully addressed to us by reason. The gospel neither renounces an appeal to reason nor shrinks from the strictest investigation. The very reverse is true. The language of its author is, "I speak as unto wise men; judge ye," and again, "Come and let us reason together." Every announcement, inference, and argument of Scripture are most reasonable. What, indeed, can be more so than the safety of the soul, the duties of morality, or the service of God. In your calmest and best moments do you not pronounce irreligion to be folly, and the gospel of Christ the highest wisdom? and in so doing, you are sustained by the wisest, the earliest, and best of mankind.

This message is addressed to us repeatedly in providence, for providence is God acting and speaking in the world, just as grace is God teaching and acting in the church.-Have you lost your property? The space it occupied is filled with voices that bid you "trust not in uncertain riches," "lay not up treasures in earth," "set your affections on things above." Have you lost relatives? Has your family become lessened on earth, but enlarged in heaven? Does the grave hide from sight those whom memory has engraven on its tablets? The tenacity with which you hold them, refusing to let

their images fade, is intended to draw your affections after them, and to raise you on the wings of hope to joys which they have already in fruition. The sickness that wastes your body, the sorrow that gnaws your spirit, the withered joy, the blighted hope, the broken heart, all repeat the message, "To-day, if ye will hear his voice;" and sometimes add to it also, "Prepare to meet your God."

Creation also takes its part in this harmony, and bears to us a message from its Maker, the universe is Christ's work, for "by him all things were made;" and to his people it speaks his truth in multiplied and instructive voices. Do not the winds of autumn awaken the too soon faded recollection, "All flesh is grass, and the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field?" Does not winter, when you stand on layers of the dead and mouldering leaves, and look up and see the trees like skeletons, shivering in the frosty wind, speak intelligibly to you: "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return?" Does not spring seem to shine in the borrowed glories of the resurrection morn? Does not summer appear to put on the mantle of Paradise regained? Does not morning, as it opens its eyelids upon the bustling earth, disclose to you its toils, and anxieties, and disappointments? And does not evening, with its dews that lay the noontide dust, and its broad soft shadows that close around and envelope you, remind you, that "the day is far spent, and the night is at hand?"

Especially does the Holy Spirit strive with man, warning, pleading, knocking, promising, and taking of the things that belong to Christ. His voice is ever accompained with power. His eloquence is energy also. His word returns not void, when it is his purpose

to purify, to sanctify, to strengthen. Pray, dear reader, that this voice may reach you that no other sounds may drown it-that no wrappings of materialism, or worldliness, or atheism may prevent its ingress, and victory within you.

The urgency of this message, whatever be its channel, is, however, the thought I am anxious to impress. Now, the very fact that a message is addressed to me "today," implies the duty of instant attention: I must either reject or receive it "to-day." To postpone it, is really to reject it, however we may evade or disguise the fact. If the message be a falsehood, put it from you to-day; if it be truth, embrace it to-day: this is plainly the alternative. "Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." "Acquaint thyself, now, with God." For the rejection of this blessed message, there may be a show of reason; for the procrastination or postponement of it, it appears to me there can be no plausible, much less just excuse.

"All things," we are told by our Lord, "are ready" "to-day." The great atonement is finished-the longpredicted sacrifice is perfected-incapable of addition to its efficacy, or accession to its glory. God the Father is reconciled. He is ready to pour down the very riches of his pardoning mercy, through that glorious channel opened up by the mediation of Jesus. His bosom is open to the chiefest of sinners. "He waits to be gracious." He longs to see the first sign of the returning prodigal, and he listens-as he listens not to angelanthem—to the words, “Father, I have sinned against Thee." The Lord Jesus reiterates in heaven the earnest invitations he uttered upon earth: "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you

rest;" "Him that cometh to me, I will in nowise cast out." The church on earth, is ready to add you to its company; the church in heaven, triumphant longs to record your name as a fellow-heir. Angelic choirs suspend their harmonies to hear your sigh, and all the inhabitants of heaven pause to receive the key-note of the newest of these ever-new songs, "Behold, he prayeth" that there may be "joy over one sinner that repenteth." "The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and, whosoever is athirst, let him come and take of the water of life freely."

To-day only is yours; the past has slipped away like quicksilver through your fingers, bearing on its stream its testimony to be deposited in the presence of God against or for you. The future is a nonentity-it is not-and therefore is not ours. Hence the present is the intensest moment of our existence; it is big with eternal and irreversible result; it rolls away laden with men's souls to separate in twain on the right and left of the judgment throne, carrying some to glory and others to shame and everlasting contempt. To-day is the beginning of an arc that completes its circle in eternity, its zenith heaven, and its nadir hell-and your soul must culminate in joy with the one, or sink intọ & starless aphelion of woe and night with the other. The past is gone, and no eloquence can recall it-the future is not come, and no insurance can guarantee it-the present alone is yours: "work, therefore, while it is called to-day."

Life is the season God has given

To 'scape from hell and rise to heaven:
That day of grace fleets fast away,

And none its rapid course can stay.

You will never have a better opportunity. Felix thought he would have a more "convenient season;" but he was bitterly and fatally disappointed. Avoid his procrastination, that you may not perish likewise. What qualification, let me ask, will you have to-morrow that you have not to-day? Your wretchedness is now, and must be then your only recommendation. Greater fitness you cannot have a weightier title than what is · now offered you cannot procure. God's mercy will not be higher to-morrow than it is to-day, for "it reacheth unto the heavens." His love will not be greater, for already it has no limits. The gate of admission will not be wider, nor the way less narrow, nor the promises more true, nor divine strength more freely or more fully offered.

You may not see next year. We are the creatures of a day, quivering like aspen-leaves on the tree of mortality; and one daily drops after another from its withered stem and disappears. Other suns will rise and shine, but as probably upon your grave as upon your tabernacle. The house that knows you now will one day know you no more for ever.

To one who once reasoned from the past to the future, and concluded that he would live many days to come, as he had lived many days past, these words were addressed, "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee."

To-morrow you may be placed beyond the reach and influence of the truth-you may be an emigrant in distant lands, or on inhospitable shores, where no temple is reared-no preacher seen-no chime of sabbath bells heard; you may be unexpectedly carried away on the waves of temptation, and fall a victim before their fury.