The solemn act is done! By the mercy
of a kind heavenly Father you have been
accepted and confirmed as one of His own
dear children. You stand in full commu-
nion with the Church.
This is always an occasion of peculiar in-
terest, of deep impressiveness, and of hum-
ble joy, not only to the Church on earth,
but, we may believe, even in Heaven. If
“there is joy in the presence of the angels”
over one sinner that returns to God, is not
heaven the more moved by the solemnity
in which a band of youthful, willing souls,
cast themselves upon their knees before the
Altar, and utter in His presence the most
solemn vow of eternal consecration?
It is an occasion of interest and joy to Pa-
rents, who behold here their children assum-
ing their baptismal vows — it is the fruit of
their anxieties, prayers, and cares.
It is an occasion of joy to Sabbath-School
teachers, to behold those who grew up into
stature and into Christ, in their classes, at
last prostrate at the feet of Jesus, to whom
they had pointed them with many words of
earnest exhortation, and with many warm
prayers of faith. The seed, sown in tears,
is now ripening into the glorious fruit of
joy.
It is an occasion of interest and joy to the
Pastor, who has sought through a long and
anxious course of instruction to point you to
Jesus — to prepare you for full membership
in the Church, for a worthy approach to the
table of the Lord, and for an entrance into
the blessedness of the righteous.
It is an occasion of solemn interest to all
members of the Church, who are here re-
minded of their own Confirmation — in whose
hearts its solemnity is again revived and re-
produced. In reviewing their own lives
since that event, they find much to move
them to humble penitence, as well as to
gratitude and praise, while they silently re-
new their own vows with those who are
kneeling at the Altar.
Even such as are no professors of religion,
and have no personal saving interest in the
great salvation, must more or less feel the
impressiveness of the scene — must feel the
silent reproof, and the keen chidings of con-
science — must feel, when they see those
before them so earnestly laying hold of the
refuge, as though they heard a voice behind
thew, crying: “Flee ye also to the moun-
tain; tarry not in all the plain.”
This is a period of special solemnity to
you. To this time you have long looked
forward — for it you have made solemn pre-
paration. It has come at last — it is past —
and behold! before God, and angels, and
men — you have made and confirmed your
vows.
To this time you will long look back. It
will be the period in your life which you
will be least likely to forget. If you should
for a time loose it from your memory, future
occasions like this will bring it fresh again
to your mind. Your conscience will often
remind you of it. If you go astray some
sore afflictions will remind you of it. On
the bed of sickness you will think of these
vows. In a dying hour these scenes will
crowd around you like angels of peace, or of
woe — bringing to your hearts smiles of grati-
tude, or tears of bitter repentance. Even
after this life you will think of this solemn
event in heaven! — or in hell!
Believing that what is said to you in these
solemn circumstances will the more deeply
impress your minds, and be the longer re-
membered, I desire to address to you a few
words of advice and warning. “As my be-
loved sons, I warn you.”
I.