in it; and as such I
wish you to consider it, as far as this may be done in reverence and
seriousness. Putting aside for an instant the thought of the
ingratitude and the sin which indifference to Christianity implies, let
us, as far as we dare, view it merely as a matter of fact, after the
manner of the text, and form a judgment on the probable consequences of
it. Let us take the state of the case as it is found, and survey it
dispassionately, as even an unbeliever might survey it, without at the
moment considering whether it is sinful or not; as a misfortune, if we
will, or a strange accident, or a necessary condition of our
nature,--one of the phenomena, as it may be called, of the present
world.

Let me then review human life in some of its stages and conditions, in
order to impress upon you the fact of this contrariety between
ourselves and our Maker: He having one will, we another; He declaring
one thing to be good for us, and we fancying other objects to be our
good.

1. "Religion is a weariness," alas! so feel even children before they
can well express their meaning. Exceptions of course now and then
occur; and of course children are always more open to religious
impressions and visitations than grown persons. They have many good
thoughts and good desires, of which, in after life, the multitude of
men seem incapable. Yet who, after all, can have a doubt that, in
spite of the more intimate presence of God's grace with those who have
not yet learned to resist it, still, on the whole, religion is a
weariness to children? Consider their amusements, their
enjoyments,--what they hope, what they devise, what they scheme, and
what they dream about themselves in time future, when they grow up; and
say what place religion holds in their hearts. Watch the reluctance
with which they turn to religious duties, to saying their prayers, or
reading the Bible; and then judge. Observe, as they get older, the
influence which the fear of the ridicule of their companions has in
deterring them even from speaking of religion, or seeming to be
religious. Now the dread of ridicule, indeed, is natural enough; but
why should religion inspire ridicule? What is there absurd in thinking
of God? Why should we be ashamed of worshipping Him? It is
unaccountable, but it is natural. We may call it an accident, or what
we will; still it is an undeniable fact, and that is what I insist
upon. I am not forgetful of the peculiar chara