dead. The inexperienced adventurer in the practice of open imprety furnishes an illustration of the same truth. With hesitating progress he advances to the extreme boundary of correct deportment, then crosses the line, becomes familiar with vice, and no longer shudders at the commission of gross crimes. The same is true with respect to the means of awakening and conversion. The heathen, when they understand the truths of the gospel, are more susceptible of religious impressions than the inhabitants of Christian lands who have long been familiar with these truths. The same preacher of the gospel, after having laboured almost in vain in a long established religious society, may retire to some new settlement in the wilderness, and there, with the same means of instruction and awakening, may collect together from the distant cottages, a group of listening, weeping, repenting hearers. It is a fact also, that the same exhibition of divine

truth, and the same striking displays of an over-ruling Providence, produce a deeper impression upon the young, than upon the aged. When "the pestilence that walketh in darkness" commences its desolating progress, we often see children and youth become alarmed and penitent, while the hardened, aged sinner goes on his chosen way unmoved. We often see the tear stealing down the youthful cheek, under the powerful exhibition of divine truth, while the aged are carelessly nodding away the precious hours of devotion. We observe the same difference between the aged and the young in revivals of religion. Were an audience collected together, composed entirely of aged sinners, who had from infancy been to the house of God, and should they be, as they probably would be, but little affected by the clear exhibition of divine truth, with what a solemn

weight of meaning might they be addressed, in the language of Christ, Alas, for you, assembly of hardened sinners !- had the heathen, had the inhabitants of the wildernesshad the young known what you have known, they would have repented long ago. It shall be more tolerable in the day of judgment for them than for you. The truth brought to view in the words of the text, therefore, is established, as a matter of fact. It teaches us that those who have long enjoyed great privileges, and still remain impenitent, become so insensible, as to be little affected by the common means of salvation, and are given over to hopeless unbelief and hardness of heart. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not! Behold your house is left unto you desolate." "And when he was come near, he beheld the city and wept over it, saying, if thou hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. Let the young give a listening ear. "To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts!-Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation!"

II. They who become hardened by misimproving great privileges, will receive, at the day of judgment, a severer condemnation, than those who have not been so highly distinguished. "But I say unto you, that it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you." This truth is so obvious that it does not need to be supported by arguments. It results as a necessary consequence from the justice of God, and the accountability of men, that those who have misimproved the greatest blessings, if found at the judgment-seat im

great judgments and mercies, is confirmed by facts, and we are led to infer this from several considerations.

And first; In the plan of salvation, means are inseparably connected with the end, and means long used without success gradually lose their effect. The experienee of every hearer of the gospel confirms this fact. He can look back upon the time, when he was deeply affected by the clear and solemn exhibition of divine truth; he can remember the period, when the striking instances of Divine Providence filled him with alarm, and when the conversation of a pious friend affected him to tears and produced solemn purposes of reformation. But now it is far otherwise. The most alarming truths of the gospel fall upon his ear like echo of distant thunder. And this results, as a necessary consequence, from the constitution of the human mind. Things that are new, produce a deeper impression than when they have been frequently repeated. The first impression may be powerful, but the succeeding impressions are fainter and fainter, till scarcely a trace is made by the same object that once produced so powerful an effect. In human probability, the hope of salvation becomes less, as men cease to be interested or alarmed by the truths of the gospel.

Secondly: Not only do the appointed means of salvation lose their effect, but the heart becomes hardened by the misimprovement of them. Serious impressions have been so often worn away, and the convictions of duty so frequently resisted, that conscience scarcely performs its office. The sinner begins to close his ears against the truths of the gospel; for he wishes to avoid the painful feelings that may arise from a true knowledge of his condition. By degrees also he deprives himself of every means which might tend to

arouse him from his desired insensibility. He closes his Bible-forsakes the house of God-passes by the bed of sicknes and deathlooks not into the grave-avoids every thing that would remind him of eternity. What hope remains of his salvation?

A long course of disobedience, finally, is followed by judicial blindness and hardness of heart. There are many within the circle of our acquaintance, who appear to be given over to their own chosen way. They are neither allured by the "glad tidings" of the gospel, nor alarmed by its fearful truths. They stand unmoved amid the descending judgments of heaven. Nothing can soften, nothing can alarm them. They resemble in character the impenitent Israelites, and like them may send up, too late, the despairing cry for mercy. "They refused to hearken, and pulled away the shoulder, and stopped their ears that they should not hear: yea they made their hearts as an adamant stone, lest they should hear the law, and the words which the Lord of hosts hath sent in his Spirit by the former prophets; therefore came a great wrath from the Lord of hosts. Therefore it is come to pass that as he cried and they would not hear; so they cried and I would not hear, saith the Lord of hosts." The compassionate Saviour stood and wept over a city of hopeless sinners, saying, " if thou hadst known, even thou in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace; but now they are hid from thine eyes." Wisdom also, wearied by long neglect, has turned her soft and plaintive voice of entreaty, into the bitterness of reproof; "Because I have called and ye refused; I have stretched out my hand and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity: I will mock when your fear cometh: when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you; then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer, they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me: For that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord; they would none of my counsel: they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices."

All these facts considered collectively-that the means of conversion after being repeatedly used, produce little, or no effect that the heart becomes insensible to serious impressions under the misimprovement of great light and knowledge -that a long series of disregarded judgments and mercies are succeeded by judicial blindness and hardness of heart, -render it sufficiently evident that those who remain impenitent, after receiving such great blessings must be left in a hopeless condition. For what hope remains of the conversion of those, who can be neither allured nor alarmed by the momentous truths of the gospel? We may speak of "everlasting burnings," but no fears are excited; we may describe the blessings of redeeming grace, but the angel-voice of mercy no longer penetrates the ear; judgments and mercies may be poured down like the showers of heaven, but the callous heart remains unmoved. Alas for thee, hardened sinner! what hope-if the solemn appeal can reach thy conscience "seared as with a hot iron," what hope remains of thy salvation?The inexplorable riches of grace may be magnified in your redemption-a sovereign arm may descend from heaven to pluck you at the "eleventh hour, "like a " brand from the burning;" but how small is the probability! How few of your unhappy number become subjects of the kingdom of grace. So far as

the human eye can discover, an impenetrable gloom rests upon your prospects. Few and faint are the rays of hope that fall upon the dark cloud. Already you seem to be numbered with the inhabitants of Chorazin and Bethsaida; it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment than for you. To the young our subject applies with peculiar interest. You are not yet hardened beyond hope. Your ears still listen to the glad tidings of salvation. Your eyes still moisten at the relation of a Saviour's sufferings for guilty man. You have not yet ceased to be alarmed by the opening grave, or the signal exhibitions of an over-ruling Providence. You have not yet closed your ears against the voice of pious counsel, nor forsaken the sanctuary of God. But if you remain impenitent under the great variety of blessings with which indulgent heaven has distinguished you, if you resist the clear convictions of duty, and the admonitions of conscience, and disregard the attractive voice of wisdom, uttering her cry in the streets; your hearts may become hard like the "adamant stone;" your feet may turn aside from the paths of rectitude, to the labyrinth of infidelity; you may forsake "the house of God, and the gate of heaven;" your pious friends may leave you in the bitterness of despair; angels, who have long waited to sing a new song at the tidings of your repentance, may drop the tear of pity from heaven, the compassionate Saviour looking down from the throne of mercy, may say: " If thou hadst known, even thou, in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace; but now they are hid from thine eyes." Beware then how you remain impenitent under the blessings of light and knowledge. If you delay the work of repentance till a more convenient opportunity, your hopes may be lost in the un

timely grave; or if life be spared, till your heads are whitened by the frost of many years, God may say of

For the Christian Spectator.

OBSERVATIONS OF AN AMERICAN IN
ENGLAND.

THERE is a family at Winson, Green, just in the vicinity of B-m, which I have occasionally seen; and as I consider them, in their manners and style of living, a very good specimen of those in the middle walks of life, I will give you an account of a late visit there, and will mingle character and description with incident. At the close of a fine day, a young Bostonian and myself, conducted by a son of the family, called at their cottage. By cottage, you will not understand me to mean a one-story, straw-thatched building, half hid in woodbine, but a neat two story brick mansion, covered with slate. We paused a few moments, in the front garden, to look at its arrangement. I have often had occasion to admire the taste, which Englishmen of this class exhibit in laying out and decorating their gardens and pleasure grounds. Whenever they fix upon a spot, and call it " home," they collect about it every little comfort and elegance that their means will admit.

A

garden seems to be a primary object in their rural economy; and even when their

means are

scanty, and they are necessarily confined to a narrow spot of ground, they contrive to throw over that spot, a thousand beauties. This taste, I conceive, cannot be too highly commended. It is not less elegant in itself, than it is favourable to purity of manners. The

same fondness for a garden and flowers may be traced in the lowest artisans and cottagers; and when they are denied the luxury of a garden, they will make a garden of their houses, and fill every window with flowers, and plants. The garden which we were now surveying, was enclosed with a welltrimmed hawthorn hedge, and two gravelled walks led up each side of a close-shaven, oval grass plat, to the front door. Trees of various kinds mingled with shrubbery skirted the edges, and gave to the centre a charming aspect of pensive retirement, and rural quietness. The lawn, by the use of a cast iron roller, and frequent shaving, had become extremely smooth, and was not only cheering to the eye, from its vivid green, but pleasant and soft as down to the foot. From the front garden we were conducted through a gate at one corner of the house, into the fruit and flower garden. This was somewhat larger than the other. Like that, it was enclosed with a hawthorn hedge, which, by constant trimming and good management had become so closely interwoven and matted together, as to form as effectual a barrier against the intrusion of cattle or the prying curiosity of man, as a stone or brick wall itself. The hedge, under the hand of a skilful gardener, can be made to assume the most fantastic shapes This was so close, that neither the hand nor the eye could penetrate it; and clothed as it then was, in the brightest green, it far surpassed in beauty, any fence or railing, and