3. God has so ordered things, that medicine will frequently cure the sick man. But the condition is, that it must be carefully taken.

4. God has so ordered things, that any body may know all about God and heaven, on condition that he faithfully reads the Bible, and prays to God for the Holy Spirit, and obeys God in every thing.

It is just so with every thing. Who would not laugh at the farmer who expected to raise corn except on the condition that he plant, and hoe, and plant the right seed, and at the right time? That little boy cannot see his top spin round, except on a condition-that he do something to make it go. That little girl, just beginning to talk, cannot learn a single letter, or take a single stitch with her needle, except on condition that she try to learn. No. You cannot rear a single beautiful flower so as to get one single blossom, without a condition.

Now, the greatest good that God ever gave to us is that eternal life which Christ bought for us by his own blood. No man ever became holy without a condition for him to fulfil. No man ever went to heaven without repentance. Job could not. David could not. Peter, and Paul, and John, could not. Not one of that multitude who are now in heaven, went there without repentance. Christ preached this condition, and so did the apostles; so has every true preacher since. Not one sinner in this house, not one in this place, not one in this world, will ever go to heaven without repentance. If we knew just how many, and who, would repent of sin, we should know just how many, and who, would go to heaven.

WHAT REPENTANCE IS.

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All must repent. Christ says, "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." So Paul says, "God now commandeth all men every where to repent." You cannot doubt who must repent-all must, every human being that has ever sinned.

A very great question rises up here; and that is, What is it to repent?

You all know there are two kinds of money-the good, and the counterfeit. A man might have a house full of the counterfeit, and yet he could not be said to have any money. It would do him no good. So there are two kinds of repentance. One is good, and the other good for nothing. They may not seem very different, just as two pieces of money may look alike, while one is good, and will buy things, and the other is good for nothing; just as two trees may stand together, and look alike, while one produces good fruit, and the other nothing but leaves. But you want to know what it is to repent. Let me try to tell you.

A man, who is now a minister of the gospel, gave me the following account. I tell it to you in order to show you what repentance is. "I had one of the kindest and best of fathers; and when I was a little white-headed boy, about six years old, he used to carry me to school before him on his horse, to help me in my little plans, and always tried to make me happy; and he never seemed so happy himself as when making me happy. When I was six years old, he came home one day very sick. My mother, too, was sick; and thus nobody but my two sisters could take care of my father.

In a few days he was worse, very sick, and all the physicians in the district were called in to see him. The next Sabbath morning, early, he was evidently much worse. As I went into the room, he stretched out his hand to me and said, 'My little boy, I am very sick. I wish you to take that paper on the stand, and run down to Mr C.'s, and get me the medicine written on that paper.' I took the paper, and went to the apothecary's shop, as I had often done before. It was about half a mile off; but when I got there, I found it shut; and as Mr C. lived a quarter of a mile farther off, I concluded not to go to find him. I then set out for home. On my way back I contrived what to say. I knew how wicked it was to tell a lie, but one sin always leads to another. On going in to my father, I saw that he was in great pain; and though pale and weak, I could see great drops of sweat standing on his forehead, forced out by pain. Oh, then I was sorry I had not gone and found the apothecary. At length he said to me, 'My son has got the medicine, I hope, for I am in great pain.' I hung my head, and muttered, for my conscience smote me. 'No, Sir, Mr Carter says he has got none!' 'Has got none! Is this possible?' He then cast a keen eye upon me, and seeing my head hang, and probably suspecting my falsehood, said, in the mildest, kindest tone, 'My little boy will see his father suffer great pain for the want of that medicine!" I went out of the room, and alone, I cried. I was soon called back. My brothers had come, and were standing, all the children were standing round the

bed, and he was committing my poor mother to their care, and giving them his last advice. I was the youngest; and when he laid his hand on my head, and told me that in a few hours I should have no father; that he would in a day or two be buried up; that I must now make God my father, love him, obey him, and always do right, and speak the truth, because the eye of God is always upon me'-it seemed as if I should sink; and when he laid his hand on my head again, and prayed for the blessing of God the Redeemer to rest upon me, soon to be a fatherless orphan,' I dared not look at him, I felt so guilty. Sobbing, I rushed from his bed-side, and thought I wished I could die. They soon told me he could not speak. Oh, how much would I have given to go in and tell him that I had told a lie, and ask him once more to lay his hand on my head and forgive me! I crept in once more, and heard the minister pray for the dying man.' Oh, how my heart ached! I snatched my hat, and ran to the apothecary's house, and got the medicine. I ran home with all my might, and ran in, and ran up to my father's bedside to confess my sin, crying out, O here, father'-but I was hushed; and then I saw that he was pale, and that all in the room were weeping. My dear father was dead! And the last thing I ever spoke to him was to tell him a lie! I sobbed as if my heart would break; for his kindnesses, his tender looks, and my own sin, all rushed upon my mind. And as I gazed upon his cold, pale face, and saw his eyes shut, and his lips closed, could I help thinking of

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his last words, 'My little boy will see his father suffer great pain for the want of that medicine?' I could not know but he died for the want of it.

"In a day or two, he was put into the ground, and buried up. There were several ministers at the funeral, and each spoke kindly to me, but could not comfort me. Alas! they knew not what a loadof sorrow lay on my heart. They could not comfort me. The children were all scattered abroad; for my mother was too feeble to take care of them.

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"It was twelve years after this, while in college, that I went alone to the grave of my father. took me a good while to find it; but there it was, with its humble tombstone; and as I stood over it, I seemed to be back at his bedside, to see his pale face, and hear his voice. Oh, the thought of that sin and wickedness cut me to the heart. It seemed as worlds would not be too much to give, could I then only have called loud enough to have him hear me ask his forgiveness. But it was too late. He had been in the grave twelve years; and I must live and die, weeping over that ungrateful falsehood. May God forgive me."

Now, I wish to say two or three things about this little boy's repentance.

1. You see that a child may be wicked. He can sin against a father and against God at the same time. God commands us to obey our parents and to speak the truth. This child did neither.

2. You see that a child is not too young to repent of a sin against his father. Some have an idea that a child is too young to repent; but this