ON THE HOPE OF FUTURE REPENTANCE.

From the Letter of a Father to his Son.

I infer from your last, that, like most persons who have been religiously educated, you are not living altogether without hope; but the hope you express, instead of coniforting me on your behalf, has led to the most painful apprehensions. For what is your hope? Not that you are at present interested in the promises of life, but that hereafter you may be. Or, to adopt your own phrase, "I hope my heart is not fatally hardened, but that I shall yet come to repentance, and the enjoyment of religion."

You doubtless intended I should infer from this, as I do, that you believe religion an important reality, and yourself a sinner in need of its consolations; for if you did not believe as much as this, you would not hope to possess religion, or think of delaying it; you would banish it from your thoughts at once and forever. But, my dear child, if religion is an important reality; then why delay it at all? For what can you be justified in delaying it? As has been well observed, "If religion is anything, it is everything." If it is of any importance, it is of the utmost importance. If it will ever deserve your most earnest attention, does it not deserve it now?

Besides, it should be remembered, that your conclusion to delay religion is a deliberate conclusion to persist in sin. If you purpose to delay religion another year, you thereby purpose, through another whole year, to be a rebel. You purpose to offend the God who made you, to resist the hand that supports you, to abuse mercies, pervert blessings, to tread under foot the Son of God, and grieve the Holy Spirit, and violate all the obligations under which Heaven has laid you-another year. Will your heart suffer you to form such a purpose? And yet you cannot conclude to delay religion without forming it.

But what is it that encourages you to form the mad conclusion to delay? Is it not this,-you believe that God is good, and will bear with you, if you do offend him? If you did not believe this, you certainly would not dare to offend. If you believed he would come out in wrath against you, and strike you dead for your next offence, you would tremble at the thought of ever sinning again. But is it right to take encouragement in sin, from the consideration. that God is good? Can you consent to harden yourself in opposition to your heavenly Father by the very consideration which, more than any other, should melt you into gratitude and love? But to come more directly to your hope, in the terms in which have expressed it." You hope your heart is not fatally hardened, but that you shall yet come to repentance." Now what is it, my child, to come to repentance? What is it to repent of a

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course of sin? It is doubtless to be heartily sorry for it. It is to hate and detest it. It is to mourn, and lament, and be in bitterness, on account of it. Your hope, therefore, comes to this ;-you are doing that now, and choose to do it, which you hope you shall be heartily sorry for at some future day! You are loving, pursuing, and persisting in a course, for which you hope you shall mourn, and lament, and be bathed in tears of sorrow, before you die! Just look at this, my son, and tell me, if a hope so strange, so preposterous, was ever deliberately indulged in regard to any other subject. What would you think of a person, who was pursuing a particular kind of business, and for the present was resolved to pursue it, which he really hoped he should be sorry and distressed for, before he left the world? Or what would you think of the traveller, who was pursuing a path, and for the present was determined to pursue it, which he knew was leading him directly out of his way, and every foot of which he hoped he should at some future time be obliged to retrace with penitence and tears? Would you not think such a traveller beside himself? And yet, what is your hope more consistent than his ?

But on what, my dear child, does your hope, your expectation of future repentance rest? What reason have you to expect that you shall ever be more ready, or more willing, to repent of your sins, than you are now? Do you flatter yourself that you shall hereafter be favored with more powerful means than you have at present? But what more powerful means can you have? God will give you no other Bible than that he has given you. He will send you no more awakening truths, no more exciting motives, no better Gospel, than that he has sent, and you statedly hear. And he has himself said that, if you will not be persuaded by this Gospel, you would not be persuaded, though one rose to you from the dead.-Do you imagine, then, that your heart will be more tender, and that the same means will have a greater effect upon you at some future day? This seems to be implied in the hope you express, that your heart is not yet fatally hardened.' But if not fatally hardened, do you not know, my son, that, under abused privileges and resisted means, your heart is continually hardening? Do you not feel that your sensibilities are less easily excited, and that your soul is becoming stupid and callous? And have you not reason to know, persisting in your present course, that the same means which now affect you, and make you solemn, will shortly have this power over you no more?-You cannot expect, that while you delay, and do nothing but sin, the hold of sin upon your affections, the power of it in your heart, will be gradually weakened; for the opposite of this must be the inevitable result. Your habits of sin are constantly confirming; the avenues to temptation are opening wider and wider; Satan is confining you more closely in his snare; and the foundation of

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the separating wall between you and your God is becoming broader and deeper, and more firmly laid. As the number of your sins, too, increases, this wall of separation is growing higher as well as broader; your debt to justice is swelling to a more enormous amount; and the work of repentance is becoming every day and hour more painful and difficult.-Your last hope, then, must be, that God hereafter will be more propitious than he is now, and will grant you the more effectual strivings of his Spirit. It is my earnest prayer that this may be the case; but still, on what grounds is such an interposition of mercy to be reasonably expected? When you are continually offending God by your sins; when you are wearying out his patience by long and criminal delays; if he will not be favorable now, how can you expect he will be more propitious at a later day?

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But in conclusion, my dear child, (for full as my heart is, I must conclude,) who has promised you a later day? Where is your assurance of any future time? If you say, 'I will delay religion till another year;' before the seasons of the present year have half revolved, disease and death may invade, and you are gone. Or if you say, 'I will delay religion till another Sabbath recollect that the sun of another Sabbath you may never see. will rise and shine with its accustomed splendor, but it may shine upon the clods that cover your mouldering remains.—We little think, amid the noise and bustle of the world, of the shortness and uncertainty of this our last trial. The young, especially, are prone to flatter themselves with the promise of long life, and to forget the near but dreaded footsteps of death. I readily admit, that you have as much assurance of living many years, as any of your companions; but this, you are aware, is no assurance at all. The shuttle may have already passed the loom, and woven your winding-sheet. The stuff may now be prepared and seasoned, which is to construct your coffin. The feet of those who have entombed others may be almost at the door, to carry your breathless body out. Is this, then, a place to trifle and delay? Is it safe, under such circumstances, to put off at all the work of preparation for a dying hour? No, my dear child, whom I love as myself, and whose salvation is dear to me as my own, you know it cannot be safe. And why then will you do it? Why have you done it? And why do you still think of continuing your delay ?-But I can proceed no further, though I know not how or where to stop. Remember that, if you slight this warning, you can never have a more solemn one from me ;-and should I not live to meet you again, or to afford you another, you will receive this as my last. I have long hoped, through the mercy of God in Christ, to stand hereafter on the right hand of my Judge. I charge you, my son, to meet me there. Let no worldly pursuit or concern be suffered to take off your thoughts

from this. Seek, first of all, the kingdom of God and his righteousness. Seek these things Now. Yes, Now, in this accepted time and day of salvation-Now, whilst the enemy of your soul is fearing lest you should escape his snare-Now, whilst your best earthly friend is pleading with you and for you with earnestness and hope-Now, whilst the heavens are waiting to rejoice over your repentance and conversion-at this present moment, so critical, so eventful, awake at once from the slumber of sin, break the chain that has so long bound you, and in the strength of Christ-the proffered strength of the omnipotent Spirit-give away your heart and soul to God.

I remain your affectionate father,

Boston, January, 1830.

REVIEW S.

AN ARTICLE ON ASSOCIATIONS IN THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINEr, SEPTEMBER 1829.

DURING the month succeeding the publication of this number of the Examiner, we were repeatedly asked if we had read Dr. Channing's famous article on Associations? We mention this circumstance to show, in the first place, that the article is, in this region, a famous one; and, secondly, that we divulge no secret in attributing its authorship to Dr. Channing.

The author seems to have been struck with the existence of the numerous societies around him. "Every thing is now done by societies."—"You can scarcely name an object for which some institution has not been formed."-Here is a new power brought to bear on society, and it is a great moral question how it ought to be viewed, and what duties it imposes.

After stating a few of the common arguments in favor of Associations, the author raises a warning voice against their influence. He dwells upon the necessity of keeping the mind independent of foreign powers; makes all virtue to consist in individual action, in inward energy, in self-determination; represents this inward power, which is to triumph over and control the influence of society, as the great object of our moral being; and begs repeatedly and most earnestly that he may not be misunderstood.

In our opinion, the writer of this article commenced with a vague, indefinite prejudice against Associations. It would seem as if he had promised to furnish something for the Examiner, and laying hold of this floating idea about the vast number of societies, and working it up into a portentous "sign of the times," resolved to write an article upon it. Accordingly he lays down a few prin

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ciples on which to build a theory respecting the effect of associated effort on the mind. But when he comes to raise his superstructure, he finds that the ground he has taken is by far too broad; his superstructure will not cover his foundation; still he proceeds, evidently under great embarrassment and with many misgivings, to stretch out his tottering frame-work from corner to corner. qualifies, commends, apologizes, and begs not to be misunderstood so frequently, that the impression left upon the reader, is, that the author mistrusted the soundness of his own work. We say with perfect sincerity, that we found as many arguments in this article in favor of Associations as against them; for the author being, as in our opinion he generally is, under the influence of the associating principle rather than of stern judgement, was caught by some chance thoughts that came along in connection with his main subject; and being more fond of discursiveness than careful about consistency, has inadvertently brought forward some of the best arguments that are offered in favor of Associations.

We shall not enter at large into the general subject of Associations. If the reader will turn to Dr. Channing's article, he will find as much in their praise as we should dare to advance. He will also be amused with the fact, that much of this praise is given in the way of retraction and apology, and that too, because the author was evidently frightened at the application of his own principles. We agree with him entirely as to the value of an independent judgement, and of freedom from the tyranny of customs and opinions; and we know, too, that we are in danger of losing these by an ill regulated intercourse with the world. But then we were surprised that the writer, with all the reverence for human nature expressed in his Sermon at Providence, should be so much afraid of trusting such "godlike" creatures as men, together. How can their mutual influence be otherwise than salutary? Is the mansion which Christ is preparing for each of his disciples a hermit's cell? Then why does this eulogist of godlike human nature' fear the mutual influence of his fellow beings in this world, if so little change is necessary to fit them for associating in heaven?

The truth is, the writer has not been to the Bible for his knowledge of human nature. He is therefore at the mercy of every floating theory that comes into his mind. His opinion of man, as may be seen by comparing this article with the Sermon referred to, varies with the nature of the subject on which he proposes to write. On every principle of common sense, merely, the author has in this article mistaken our character as social beings. He seems to regard man as possessing a sort of waxen nature, which he has the power of hardening or softening at any moment, as occasion may require. If an unholy influence approaches, he can harden into an unyielding resistance; if a good influence comes