Have not some of you the assurance of hope, that you will be found in this holy company? Do we not there behold a part of this assembly? And are not all of you on the right hand! Where, where! is the poor, miserable, lost soul, to be found on the left hand? In which seat is he? Is he our friend, our brother? Have pity on him; have pity on him ;—but have you not a serious concern for yourselves? On the right, are the countless millions of the millennium. The precious and the vile never will unite again. Families, churches, and congregations are separated for the last time. In some instances parents take a last view of their children. David, no more, will see his Absalom. Children for the last time will see their parents. Good Josiah resigns his wicked father Amon, to the dreadful justice of God. Lovers and friends, whom death could not separate, are now forever and forever separated. Fathers, can ye resign your darling boys to the unchangeable sentence of their Judge? Mothers, can ye leave your daughters on the left hand of your Saviour? What is the anguish of closing the eyes of a child or a parent compared with this; what the anguish of leaning over the grave of an, only son. How great the day, which separates the righteous from the wicked; when we hear the final adieu of neighbours and friends; the last farewell of parents and children.

5. The probable length of the day of judgment, will render it great and solemn.

How much time the process of this day will require, no created being can ascertain. If we examine the business to be accomplished, we shall probably be

convinced that more than one natural day will be required. The great design of the solemnity is not to inform Deity, but to convince and satisfy creatures. These receive truth gradually, and often slowly. Every one must give an account of his open sins, of his secret sins, of his actions, his passions, his thoughts, of his childhood, his youth, and his riper years. We presume not to fix the duration of this day; but sure we are, it will continue till all the ungodly are convinced of all their ungodly deeds. The term day is used in Scripture; but a thousand years with the Lord are as one day. Possibly, therefore, the day of judgment may continue a thousand years; a thousand years solemnly examining the lives and hearts of men. Great and awful period!

6. The joys of the righteous, and the terrours of the wicked, led before their Judge, increases the greatness of the day.

Here words fail, nor can imagination realize the truth. Eloquence might not dare attempt a description. Who can describe what is inconceivably terrible. Those who had passed through life without terrour of conscience, without a sense of danger, the hope of pleasure in their hearts, and the voice of gladness in their lips, now awake to guilt, dismay, and terrour. Friendly advice, serious reproofs, awakening sermons, holy sabbaths, years of salvation, all disregarded; all lost, for ever lost, now rush on the mind. The convictions they quenched; the resolutions they violated; the calls of Providence they rejected; the solemn vows they broke, wring their hearts, and overwhelm their spirits. Their self-deception, their oppo

sition to good men; their hatred of truth, their wilful errours, fill them with consternation. The kindling wrath of their Judge; the malignant spirits, devils and fallen angels, who are to be their companions; the lake of fire, already burning, distract and amaze their souls. They cry, "Oh that we had known the things of our peace; Oh that we had not hated instruction and despised reproof. Had we been wise; had we listened to parents and ministers, we had not come to this place of torment." On the other hand are seen the smiles of peace and cheerfulness, of hope and joy. Were a number of prisoners, tried for their lives, justified by an earthly court, would not the relief of their anxiety, the gladness and the raptures of their minds, surpass description? What is this compared with pardon, with justification at the bar of God? They recollect their wanderings, their sins, their crimes; of their spiritual dangers, their temptations, and their terrours of conscience, they have a lively remembrance. Their sense of unworthiness and crimson guilt, sinks deep in their hearts. But they find themselves surrounded with chosen vessels of honour. Their Judge is reconciled; he is "their brother;" he has bled and died for them. Their past sufferings are foils to set off their present prospects; their losses, their trials, and tears, enhance their present felicity. Raised above the darkness, the distress, and dangers of this life, they are waiting for glory and immortality. As Moses saw from Pisgah's top the land of promise, and the goodly mountain of Lebanon, so they see in heaven, vacant seats and golden thrones, waiting their arrival. With the voice of love and grace, the Judge

addresses them, "Come, ye blessed, inherit the kingdom, prepared for you, before the foundation of the world."

Then, assuming all the terrours of an angry Judge, to those on the left, he says, "depart, accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil and his angels." They sink; they fall; hatred, and envy, and anger, raging in every breast. Almighty wrath hurls them down, down to burning lakes, to the blackness of darkness; to the prisons of everlasting despair. Damnation opens all its horrours. They lie down in everlasting burnings; but not a heart of love, not a hand of kindness or pity, is found in all the miserable regions of lost souls.

What do we say? Does not one pray, who never prayed before? "Have mercy on me, and send, Oh send, one drop of water, to cool my parched tongue, tormented in this flame. Send Lazarus, wrapt in a blaze of glory, to warn my brethren, that they come not to this place of torment." Prayers in hell, will never be answered; prayers, not addressed to God in the name of Christ, will never be answered. The poor stubborn, unbending soul is denied a drop of water, or a message to his five brethren.

The righteous, being invited by Jesus Christ, have ascended to glory, to mansions prepared for them before the foundations of the world. Jesus and his redeemed ones, robed in spotless purity, are entering the pearly gates of the heavenly city. There they rest from their labours; there the wicked cease from troubling; there God shall wipe tears from every eye; there shall be no more death. The splendours of

glory kindle immortal raptures in every breast; they join in the song of Moses and the Lamb, saying, "Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord, God, Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints." Gabriel, and the angelic hosts, ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, with a loud voice, swell the chorus of praise, "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. Blessing and honour, and glory and power, be unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever. Amen." In his creatures' felicity, God himself is blest.

But, finally, our world like a falling temple, or a sinking ship, having been forsaken during the long day of judgment, is now to be burned! This closes the great day. The world, which had for thousands of years been polluted with sin; the hospital of the human race; the province of death, being itself one continued burying-ground, this world is now to perish.

At this awful crisis as the judgment closes, the lightnings blaze, the thunders roar, the air is flame. The combustible substances on the surface of the earth begin the conflagration. The fields are consumed; the forests vanish; villages, and towns, and cities, are lost in a flood of fire. One boundless blaze enwraps the world. A hundred burning mountains burn, and heaven's last thunders shake the world. The meadows undermine the hills; they bow, and fall, and vanish, as fuel in a furnace. The snowy top