If the soul be forsaken of God—if the Holy Spirit, by whose power alone the heart can be renewed, take his departure—how utterly hopeless is his condition! It stands as a monument of Divine wrath, to whom the Lord says, as he did of the accursed fig-tree, "Let no fruit grow thereon forever." Already its doom is fixed beyond change, and its everlasting ruin as certain as though it were shut up in the prison of despair. What! is there no efficacy in the blood of Jesus? Ah! his atoning sacrifice has been rejected. Is there no power in the grace of God? That grace has been despised. Is there no love in the heart of God? His love and patience have been so long slighted and abused, that the very heart which once melted with pity is now insensible to the sinner's guilty state. Will no cries for mercy reach his ear? Ah! time was when he said, "I love them who love me, and those who seek me early shall find me;" but now he is regardless of the sinner's prayer, and though from the borders of the grave he lift his agonizing cry to heaven, the Lord replies, "Because I called, and ye refused; I stretched out mine arm, and no man regarded; I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early but they shall not find me."
Dear reader, what an affecting appeal does this subject make to your heart, urging you to immediate repentance! I might enforce this obligation by a consideration of approaching death. But suppose God should spare your life for many years, is there not danger that you may grieve away the Holy Spirit, and exhaust the forbearance and patience of God? Reflect how long he has been calling you by the awful threatenings of his law, and the mild accents of the gospel. You have grown up amid the privileges of a Christian land, and truth has been addressed to you in every variety of form. God has showered upon you many blessings, that your gratitude might be awakened and his goodness lead you to repentance; and occasionally perhaps, he has afflicted you, that in the experience of earth's vanity you might seek heaven's bliss. He has visited you by his Spirit. You have heard the Holy Spirit knocking at the door of your heart. At the grave of a friend, on a sick-bed, or under an impressive discourse, you have felt his secret influence, and have been almost
persuaded to be a christian. And yet, after all, you remain impenitent and far from God. Oh! would it be surprising if even a long suffering and compassionate God should be wearied and provoked to anger by such treatment, and should leave you in total obduracy? Then your case would be desperate, and nothing could produce sincere repentance. At the prospect of death you might be alarmed, and wringing your hands in anguish, you might cry for mercy; but such fear would be only the forebodings of eternal death and God will have forgotten to be gracious. You might be overwhelmed with alarm and terror, but, like Esau, who sold his birthright, find no place for repentance, though you sought it carefully with tears.
Be cautious, lest, by the too oft repeated rejection of the proffers of love, your heart become callous and indifferent under the most melting exhibitions of truth; lest the blessed Spirit of God, offended at the ungrateful requital returned at your hands, should go away forever, and your life be continued only to glorify the power and justice of an insulted and incensed God, by adding sin unto sin, and treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath.