ness of God, and which we have almost always neglected; so much culpable and voluntary ignorance, in consequence of having dreaded the light, and even fled from those who could have instructed us; so many events so calculated to open our eyes, and which have served only to increase our blindness; so much good, which, through our talents or our example, we might have done, and which we have prevented by our vices; so many souls whose innocence might have been preserved by our bounty, and whom we have left to perish by refusing to abate from our profusions; so many crimes which might have been prevented in our inferiors or equals by prudent remonstrances and useful advice, and which indolence, meanness, and perhaps more culpable views, have made us suppress; so many days and moments which might have been placed to advantage for Heaven, and which we have spent in inutility and an unworthy effeminacy. And what in this is more dreadful, is that, in our own eyes, that was the most innocent part of our life, offering nothing to our remembrance, as we think, but a great void.
What endless regret, then, to the unfaithful soul, to see such a list of days sacrified to inutility, to that world which is no more; while a single moment, consecrated to a God faithful to his promises, might have merited the felicity of the holy! — to see so many meannesses, so many objections for the sake of riches, and a miserable fortune which could last only for a moment; while a single self-denial, suffered for the sake of Jesus Christ, would have secured to him an immortal crown! What regret, when he now finds that not half the cares and anxieties were required for his salvation which he has undergone to accomplish his destruction; and that a single day of that long life, wholly devoted to the world, had sufficed for eternity!
To that examination will succeed, in the fourth place, that of mercies which you have abused; so many holy inspirations either rejected or only half prosecuted; so many watchful attentions of Providence to your soul rendered unavailing; so many truths, declared through our ministry, which, in many believers, have operated penitence and salvation, but have always been sterile in your heart; so many afflictions and disappointments, which the Lord had provided for you, in order to recall you to him, and of which you have always made so unworthy a use; even so many natural gifts which once were blossoms of virtue, and which you have turned into agents of vice: ah! if the unprofitable servant be cast into outer darkness for having only hidden his talent, with what indulgence can you flatter yourself, you who have received so many, and who have always employed them against the glory of that Master who had intrusted them to you?
Here, indeed, it is that the reckoning will be terrible. Jesus Christ will demand from you the price of his blood. You sometimes complain that God doth not enough for you; that he hath brought you into the world weak, and of a temperament of which you are not the master; and that he bestoweth not the necessary
