concealed the sight of futurity, and ushers him in thought before the judgment-bar of his unalterable Judge. He had invited this prisoner, far-famed for his topic and eloquence, to give a display of his powers, but he had never supposed such a presentation. As the divine word, the two-edged sword of the Spirit, wielded by such an arm, cut into the joints and marrow of the profligate sinner's conscience. It had the same effect which the handwriting on the wall once had upon Belshazzar of Babylon. He moved about uneasily, his color changed, his knees smote one against the other; "he trembled," it says. The truth had smitten to the heart, and then? Was truth victorious? Did virtue conquer? Did the judgment-hall echo the words of the Philippian jailer, "What shall I do to be saved?" or, like the publican, did he smite upon his breast, saying, "God be merciful to me a sinner"? How the angels would have rejoiced, and Felix would have been what his name means, "happy." But Satan knew his man too well. In a moment the smitten sinner had rallied from his shock; with a grace and courtesy, truly admirable if it had not been so disastrous, he says: "Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." The story of Felix has been written for our admonition. God grant that like an arrow it may smite into the joints and marrow of our conscience to-day. Our theme is: THE CONVENIENT SEASON, noting, _I. A few things that hinder the convenient season; II. The delusion of putting it off._ We have heard Felix' plea; it was not an abrupt turning away from the topics Paul had spoken to him of. He did not declare in express terms that he would never embrace the faith in Christ, that he would not renounce iniquity and prepare for the final account. No, his answer implies that he would do all this, but he begs to be excused from doing it for the present. "When I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." Felix' plea is still a most prevalent plea. Perhaps it is the most prevalent plea, never advanced so much as in our times. It is not that people are deliberately determined to rush into the arms of the devil and hell; many of the most thoughtless and the most profligate, convicted by the emotions of conscience within and the presentation of religion, still have the intention that some time or other, bye and bye, they are going to become more serious, to reform. The drunkard will some day abandon his cups, the swearer his profanity, the lewd man his profligacy, but not just now. And not only these, the thoughtless, the profligate, but those who are very thoughtful and of excellent standing and morals. What a universal plea it is!