nd wishes
to see you happy. He has for this purpose sent his Son into the world
to die for your sins, and to lead you to piety and peace. The Savior
now asks you to repent of sin and love him, that, when you die, you
may be received to heaven, and be happy for ever. You perhaps
remember the passage of Scripture found in Rev. 3:2, "Behold, I
stand at the door, and knock; if any man hear my voice, and open the
door, I will come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me." By
this he expresses his desire that we should receive him to our
hearts.

One of the most affecting scenes described by the pen of the most
eloquent of writers, is, that of an aged father driven from his home
by ungrateful and hard-hearted children. The broken-hearted man is
represented as standing by the door of his own house, in a dark and
tempestuous night, with his gray locks streaming in the wind, and his
head unprotected to the fury of the storm. There he stands, drenched
with the rain, and shivering with the cold. But the door is barred,
and the shutters are closed. His daughters hear the trembling voice of
their aged parent, but refuse him admission. Their flinty hearts
remain unmoved. The darkness increases; the tempest rages; the rain
falls in torrents, and the wind howls most fearfully. The voice of
their father grows feebler and feebler, as the storm spends its fury
upon him. But nothing can touch the sympathies of his unnatural
children. They will not open the door to him. At last, grief, and the
pangs of disappointed hope, break the father's heart. He looks at the
black and lowering clouds above him, and, in the phrensy of his
distracted mind, invites the increasing fury of the storm. And still
those wretched children refuse to receive him to their fireside, but
leave him to wander in the darkness and the cold.

The representation of this scene, as described by the pen of
Shakspeare, has brought tears into millions of eyes. The tragedy of
King Lear and his wretched daughters is known throughout the civilized
world. What heart is not indignant at such treatment? Who does not
abhor the conduct of these unnatural children?

Our blessed Savior represents himself as taking a similar attitude
before the hearts of his children. He has presented himself at the
door of your heart, and can you refuse him admission? "Behold," says
he, "I stand at the door and knock." But we, with a hardness of heart
which has triumphed over greater blessings, an