These were precious seasons. "How sweet their mem'ry still!" Then came an hour of tender, impressive, and almost awful interest. You entered the sanctuary of God, and in the presence of men, of angels, and your adored Saviour, avouched the Lord Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, to be your God, consecrating yourself and all your possessions, unreservedly, to his service. Was this an unmeaning ceremony? No. You remember the occasion, the hopes and fears of your trembling faith, those sweet experiences, those glimpses of your Redeemer's smiles, which forced the tear to your eye; the solemn and faltering accents of your beloved pastor; and the weeping sympathy of a dear father and mother-- now, perhaps, gone to their rest--who had long yearned over a thoughtless child. Or you may remember your soul's peaceful trust in God, as you stood _alone_, with no sympathizing kindred; and felt, as you tasted the cup,--the emblem of your Saviour's blood, and the pledge of the eternal sacrifice of yourself to him,--that you could cheerfully forsake brother and sister, father and mother, all, for Christ. It was a touching scene; and you thought you should never forget it. And, ah! it never has been forgotten in heaven. The eternal Judge, and those blest spirits who affectionately stooped to sustain and strengthen you for the irrevocable vow, remember it. Now have you acted up to this surrender of your all to Christ, especially in relation to the duty of beneficence? In that impressive hour, did you make a mental reservation, withholding certain sources of private gratification,--the privilege of using your property as you pleased, of seeing yourself and family supplied with the conveniences, the comforts, and even the luxuries of life, ere you attended to the cries of the myriads sinking to woes unutterable for the want of Gospel light? Were you thus unfeeling? Did you think to deceive the heart-searching Jesus? Oh, no! I cannot believe it; and you are appalled at the suspicion. But what did you mean by those all-surrendering vows? What do you mean, often as you renew them at the sacramental board? Let the question come home to your conscience; _what do you mean_? If they lead you not to hold your property at the call of God, ought you not to tremble lest you never gave yourself away, and are, therefore, with all your professions an heir of hell? Did Christ once weep over covenant-breaking Jerusalem? Does he not now weep over you, as he thinks of all his agonies to rescue you from unquenchable fire; of your voluntary vows; your unfaithfulness; and your mockery, as perhaps you have prayed that the kingdoms of the world might speedily become his; while amid your numerous comforts, you have refused to deny yourself scarce a convenience, or even superfluity, for the salvation of those whom he died to redeem? How inconsistent! Well might tears still bathe the Saviour's cheeks. Oh think, are these the