I PASSED an evening with a young man, at the house of a common friend. He was well read on several subjects, most amiable in his disposition and manners, and evidently dissatisfied with himself, —a skeptic rather than a confirmed infidel. He seemed to take a great interest in my conversation, and I saw I had made a considerable impression on him. But it is easy to silence, more difficult to convince, and impossible, by human effort alone, to convert. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.”
I said, “When do you mean to give the subject of religion an honest and diligent attention?”
“I am going to Birmingham tomorrow, to form an advantageous partnership in a leading firm. It will take me two or three months to complete all the arrangements, and then, I assure you, I will read and think as you have advised.”
“But what if you should die before the arrival of the time you fix? I hear a very solemn warning, — ‘This night shall thy soul be required:’ and then whose shall those things be that thou halt provided? Depend upon it, you are deceiving your own heart. ‘Tomorrow’ is a fatal delusion, and has been the ruin of thousands. He who defers the duty of the moment may never see the ‘more convenient season:’ and if he does, will be less inclined than ever to embrace it. You might at least begin with an hour or two a-day, till you have more leisure.”
“It is impossible, sir. I cannot spare a moment. My whole time and thoughts will be engaged in getting into the business of the house, and a proper attention to it at first may affect all my future life.”
“What, sir, is this the sound exercise of reason?”
I forget his reply, or whether he made any. We parted forever, and I heard that he was buried before the end of a month. —An Extract.