SERMON XVI.

EARLY PIETY.

REMEMBER NOW THY CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH, WHILE THE EVIL DAYS COME NOT, NOR THE YEARS DRAW NIGH, WHEN THOU SHALT SAY, I HAVE NO PLEASURE IN THEM.-Ecclesiastes xii. 1.

THE young are too apt to consider religion as a dark and gloomy object. It seems to them calculated to check the sprightliness of their spirits, and to thwart the pursuit of their pleasures. If they have been educated by pious parents, they will regard religion with reverence and awe, but still it may seem to them a bondage from which they will sometimes long to become free. The house of God is apt to appear to them cheerless and melancholy, and their thoughts will often wander from prayers and thanksgivings to the enticing scenes of gaiety and joy. This is a disposition inherent, probably, in most young minds, and which, therefore, is to be treated with some indulgence. Yet, in this disposition, we may trace the first rise of irreligion in the heart; we may observe those corrupted springs from which the waters of bitterness afterwards flow; and in that distaste to the thoughts of religion, as inconsistent with the pleasures of youth. We shall discover the root of infidelity in some minds, and in others, of that eager following after vain enjoyments, which finally blots out every serious thought.

In order, therefore, to impress upon the minds of the young, the belief, that there is nothing severe in the advice of the wise man, contained in the text, I shall endeavour to prove, first, that religion is so far from checking, that it will add a relish to every innocent pleasure, which is natural to the season of youth; and, in the next place, to show that youth is the season in which religion and pleasure may be most easily made to unite, "while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them."

I. Let us, then, consider the season of youth, and the innocent pleasures which it admits, that season, when our limbs are vigorous,-when our hearts are light,-when our hopes are warm, and when we begin to run the race of life with alacrity and joy. Care has not as yet sat down upon our minds; we have not yet experienced the vanity of the world, nor fallen a prey to discontent and repining. Every hour seems to start some new enjoyment,-something that we have not yet known, which may add new vigour to our spirits, and refresh our hopes. Life does not yet appear the same unvaried circle of dull employment, or of insipid amusement. All is smiling and delightful, for the evil days have not yet come, nor the years drawn nigh, in which we shall say we have no pleasure in them. Now, my brethren, it would indeed be a harsh design, if religion should be introduced to throw a cloud over this pleasing period, if it hastened the arrival of the evil days, instead of retarding them, or of breaking their force. If we were forbidden to use the vigour of our limbs,-if we were required to break down the cheerfulness of our spirits, and to tear from our hearts all love for those delights, which are ever opening upon us, we might indeed have some reason to complain that we served a severe master.

But religion never forbids the use of any thing which nature throws in our way. It only aims at checking the

abuse. Our heavenly Father deals with us in no other way than every wise parent acts with his child. A kind parent is pleased to see its child sprightly and gay, enjoying the amusements and games of his childhood. In those amusements, however, which he deems to be hurtful, he is careful to check him; and although it may cost a few tear and repinings, yet is he steady in enforcing obedience. Now, can we think it hard to be treated by our heavenly Father, in the manner in which the best and wisest parents treat their children? And do we see those children, who are wisely educated, less lively and cheerful, than those who are idly indulged? Where, then, is the severity of the precept," Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth?" What pleasures will it prevent? What delights will it destroy? Will it make the face of nature appear less beautiful in our eyes? Will it make us have less delight in the society of our friends, or of those who possess our hearts? Does the child appear less sprightly in his play, who recollects that his father permits certain amusements, and forbids others, than one who runs thoughtless into all kinds of mischief, whenever he is beyond the observation of the parental eye? "Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth;" and thou wilt, indeed, avoid the riots of intemperance, the insidious poison of loose debauchery, and all the other snares which lie in the path of youth. But wilt thou enjoy, with less satisfaction, the company of thy friend, or think with less delight on the object of thy chaste affections, or engage with less animation in the different occupations suitable to thy years? Every period of life has its peculiar duties and enjoyments, and religion does not expect, in a young person, all the composure and gravity of age. It however requires the young to be sober-minded, and not intemperately to give the reins to every eager desire. It requires the young, as well as the old, to remember that they are immortal beings, and that they will one day be called upon to give an account of their conduct; but under VOL. I.

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this caution it permits them to "rejoice in their youth." Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the ways of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment."

So far, then, is the remembrance of our Creator from being a hindrance to youthful pleasures, that it must clearly add to them, and give them a higher relish. The child that amuses itself under a parent's smiles, surely enjoys a greater happiness, than when fearing to be interrupted in forbidden delights, and to be subject to parental frowns and displeasure. Must it not add to the lawful pleasures of youth, when we believe that the great Father of our spirits permits them a free scope, and delights to see the happiness of his children, while they confine themselves within the gracious rules of his administration? Will not the belief that we enjoy his approbation, cheer us under every restraint? And, if we must, at times, submit to his chastisement, shall we not kiss the rod, and still acknowledge his paternal love? Let us not, my brethren, form to ourselves a dark and gloomy notion of the God who made us; but let us regard him as the Father of mercies,—as the most mild and gracious of all beings. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him; for he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust. As for man his days are as grass; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more. But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children's children, to such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them."

II. Let us, in the second place, proceed to enforce the argument of the wise man, by which he recommends early