LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON. N. J. 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Dr. Henry E. Hale 
 
 BV 4905 .A6 1854 
 Anspach, F. R. 1815-1867 
 The memory of the dead 
 
/J / 
 
 
t Mtnmi] tliljt Dtui). 
 
 
 -WOGiCftL'v" 
 
 OUR DEPARTED. 
 
 / 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. F. E. "ANSPACH, A.M., 
 
 HAOERSTOWX, MARYLAND. 
 
 As flowers which uight, when day is o'er, perfume, 
 Breathes the sweet memory from a good man's tomb. 
 
 Sir E. B. Lytton. 
 
 '^Ijirii ((^Mtinu. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON. 
 
 1854. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, 
 
 in the ClerK s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 STEREOTYPED BT J. FAGAN. PRINTED BY C. SHERMAN. 
 
 (ii) 
 
"We honor tbe memory of that virtue which shall never die; we 
 honor those ashes, which the confession of faith has consecrated : we 
 honor in them the seeds of eternity. "We honor then the body which 
 Christ himself honored in the sword, and which with Him, will 
 remain in Heaven." — Ambrose, Tom. ii, p. 467. 
 
 (iii) 
 
^ffcctfonatelj? Enscrfftelr 
 BY TUB AUTHOR 
 
 TO 
 
 LILLY, 
 
 HIS WIFE, 
 
 WHO IS THE SUN OP HIS DOMESTIC CIRCLE, 
 
 AND TDE DEWS OF WHOSE €ENTLE SPIRIT CLOTHE, 
 
 WITH THE FRAGRAXCE OF FILIAL AFFECTION, 
 
 THE FLOWERS THAT STILL REMAIN 
 
 AND ADORN THE GARDEN 
 
 OF HIS HOME. 
 
 1* Cv) 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting this ofl'ering, it is proper that the 
 author should accompany it with a brief statement 
 of the reasons which were influential in its prepara- 
 tion. 
 
 It is certainly to he regretted, that the earthly resting 
 places of the dead are so frequently found in a condi- 
 tion of dilapidation and neglect. A grave in ruins is 
 such a mournful spectacle that it saddens the heart, 
 and throws additional terrors around death. It tills 
 us with thoughts so gloomy and distressing, that we 
 turn from it with pain, and lose the influence of those 
 cheering and softening emotions, which should be 
 evoked in our visits to the sepulchre. The tombs of 
 our sainted ones should be ranked among our sacred 
 things. They deserve to be cherished and guarded 
 with religious concern. And so fully is the writer 
 persuaded of the importance of cultivating a devout 
 regard for the depositories of the dead, that he has 
 prepared this work with a view to direct attention to 
 the subject, and to contribute something to deepen 
 and encourage a feeling which affection inspires and 
 religion sanctifies. 
 
 (vii) 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 Anotlier object coutemplated in the preparation of 
 this vohirne has been, to assist the bereaved to improve 
 their afflictions for permanent spiritual good. It is 
 designed to be a companion for the sorrowing. It is an 
 attempt to administer the oil and balm of the Gospel 
 to wounded hearts ; to diminish the w^eight of grief, 
 and alleviate the pains of separation entailed upon 
 us by the death of friends ; and to reconcile shrink- 
 ing ISTature to its inevitable fate, by giving expression 
 to those considerations of hope, of peace and glory, 
 which Christianity throws around the ashes of our 
 departed. 
 
 But the author indulges the hope, that while it will 
 subserve the purposes indicated, it may also be interest- 
 ing and profitable to those who are free from the 
 pressures and pains of affliction. For the topics dis- 
 cussed are so vitally connected with the great interests 
 of man here, and so intimately blended with his 
 destiny hereafter, that clothed with the light of hope, 
 they constitute pleasant themes for meditation with 
 those who are looking forward to a happy immortalit}-. 
 
 Hageksto-wn, Feb. 17, 1854. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Communion with the Past 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Sacredxess of the Sepulciiiie 35 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Visits to the Sepulchres of our Departed 53 
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 Lessons which the Sepulchre imparts 72 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Glory of Man 87 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 In the Sepulchre the Conflicts of Life end 106 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 At the Sepulchres of our Departed we may learn the 
 
 Value of Life 128 
 
 (ix) 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Sepulchre peoclaijis the Evil of Sin 153 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 The Sepulchres of our Departed admonish us to be gentle 
 
 and kind to the livinq 175 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Posthumous Fame. — The Sepulchre instructs us how to 
 
 LIVE, so as to be remembered tvhen dead 200 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 The Repose of the holy Dead 227 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Sepulchre reminds us of the Value and Immortality 
 
 OF THE Soul 247 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Hope of Resurrection divests the Sepulchre of its 
 
 Terrors, and brings Consolation to the Bereaved 272 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Indestructibility of the Family Bond a Source of Con- 
 solation TO the Bereaved 294 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 At the Sepulchres of our Departed we mat also learn the 
 
 Right which God holds in us and our Families 312 
 
CONTENTS. xi 
 
 CHAriER XVI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Future Recognition 329 
 
 CFI AFTER XVII. 
 
 The Sympathy of Jesus with afflicted and bereaved Souls.. 348 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Our Present and our Future Home 368 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Darkness turned to Light, or the Uses we should make of 
 
 Afflictions and Bereavements 396 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Grave-yards and Cemeteries, or the Claims of the Dead 
 upon the Living, and the Care -which should be 
 bestowed upon the Places of their Repose 421 
 
THE 
 
 SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED. 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 " Voice after voice hath died away, 
 
 Once in my dwelling heard ; 
 Sweet household name, by name hath chang'd 
 
 To grief's forbidden word ! 
 From dreams of night on each I call, 
 
 Each of the far remov'd ; 
 And waken to my own wild cry — 
 
 AVhere are ye, my belov'd?" 
 
 It is the dictate of philosophy and religion to cherish the 
 memories which bind us to the past. To turn occasion- 
 ally from the stirring scenes around us, to hold communion 
 with the persons and events of that silent world which 
 follows on the march of time, is alike profitable and 
 pleasant. For if judiciously controlled, this intercourse of 
 the thoughts with that which has been, assists us in esti- 
 mating and appreciating that which is, while it qualifies us 
 •2 (13) 
 
14 com:.iuxiox with the past. 
 
 for that \\hich is to come. The past is an immense 
 depository, where bygone ages have stored their treasures. 
 Thither should tlie living repair, to gather the gold of ex- 
 perience and the gems of wisdom. Lessons of rare value 
 may be gleaned from the written scroll of time. For it is 
 on]}' after we have surveyed the ample page of history, and 
 wandered along that great highway which begins in Eden, 
 and upon which the world's population has journeyed for 
 six thousand years, and carefully studied the monuments of 
 their intellectual and moral triumphs, that we learn the capa- 
 bilities of the human mind. And it is in lihe manner from 
 attentively contemplating the trials and misfortunes which 
 those v.ho have gone before us encountered and overcame, 
 that we may gather fortitude to arm ourselves for life's 
 conflicts, and wisdom to derive lasting good from the adver- 
 sities incident to our earthly pilgrimage. The traveller who 
 has crossed the Alps, or traversed the desert, may, by his 
 recorded experience, greatly benefit others, who, from choice 
 or necessity, undertake a similar journey. 
 
 But it is not so much upon distant ages that we would fix 
 our meditations, nor yet hold communion with the distin- 
 guished of remote periods, as to call up those with whom we 
 once held sweet counsel, and whose forms are still enshrined 
 in the sanctuary of our souls. And that it is in accordance 
 with the Divine will that we should sometimes be occupied 
 in such exercises, seems manifest from the nature of our 
 mental and moral constitutions. Our benevolent Creator 
 has bestowed upon us an organization which neither limits 
 
COMMUXION WITH THE PAST. 15 
 
 US to the present, nor makes us exclusively dependent upon 
 surrounding objects, for all our enjoyments. He has en- 
 dowed us with memories of such retentive energies, that all 
 the events, painful or pleasant, which make up the record of 
 our experience, and all the persons with whom these are 
 associated, are summoned at our pleasure before the mind. 
 Upon the ample jjages of that faculty which keeps us apprized 
 of what we have known and felt, are painted with great ac- 
 curacy all the joyous scenes of youth. And in that group 
 of pictures which impressed themselves there, in all the vivid 
 colorings of the spring-time of life, there is not one that we 
 would willingly efface. Those rural scenes, amid which we 
 spent the morning of our existence, have left such delightful 
 impressions, that they are contemplated with satisfaction up 
 to the evening of our life. Those noble mountains in whose 
 deep shadows we have wandered, and those blooming vales 
 where flowed the crystal stream on whose moss-covered 
 banks we innocently gamboled, and those fountains from 
 which we drank refreshing draughts, can never be forgotten. 
 And to remember the companions who shared in the enjoy- 
 ment of those scenes, and participated in the amusements of 
 our childhood, not as men and women, but as children 
 clothed in their innocence and beauty, is a pleasure of which 
 we w^ould be reluctantly deprived. 
 
 But above all, would we deplore the loss of those images 
 of dear departed ones, which are so distinctly engraved upon 
 the tablets of memory, and with whom the most interesting 
 reminiscences of our life are associated. Although days, 
 
16 COMMUNION WITH THE TAST. 
 
 and months, and years may have elapsed since inexorable 
 dealh bade us surrender the bodies of cherished ones to the 
 grave, and their spirits to God, yet are they still present to 
 our minds, beautiful and life-like. And who does not realize 
 a iiielancholy pleasure in recalling departed ones, be their 
 images clothed with the innocence and loveliness of youth, 
 or marked by the cares and sorrows of age? And are not 
 those hours of solitude, which the bereaved people with the 
 recollections and endearments of other days, refreshing to 
 them, as pilgrims, who are hastening onward to that blissful 
 inheritance, where those move and shine who were once 
 fellow-travellers on earth ? So sacred are the memories 
 which come thronging from departed joys, and so fragrant 
 with the odors of crushed hopes, that the mother from whose 
 crown of rejoicing has been plucked her brightest jewel, 
 often withdraws herself from the circle of the living, to hold 
 communion with him whosp voice is no more heard, and 
 whose seat around the hearth is no longer filled. Ay, those 
 are holy moments, when at least in thought she presses her 
 loved one to her throbbing bosom. And far dearer and 
 richer in enjoyment than all the excitements of worldly 
 pleasure, are such seasons of retirement and meditation to 
 her, who was scarcely appareled in her bridal robes, before 
 a mysterious, but wise providence bade her assume the 
 weeds of mourning. And infinitely more precious than the 
 golden offerings of earth are those moments to her, when 
 alone she recalls the manly form of the noble husband, 
 to whom she had fondly and securely clung, as the frail 
 
COMJIUNION WITH THE PAST. 17 
 
 forest vine clings to the sturdy oak. And in like mannei 
 does the hoary-headed sire, who is ascending the last heights 
 of the " delectable mountains," where strains of celestial 
 melody come hastening on the air, and the sky is tinged with 
 the brilliant hues of that glory into which he hopes soon to 
 enter, find pleasure in communing with those who have long 
 since quitted the turmoils of earth, and gone to that abode 
 of peace, "where the weary are at rest." And such is the 
 tendency in all whose faculties are not paralyzed and whose 
 sensibilities are not blunted, that it may be truly affirmed 
 that nature and religion admonish us not to forget or neglect 
 the departed. 
 
 There are also many to whom there is little left but 
 departed joys. And it is a distinguished favor and a merci- 
 ful provision of our heavenly Father, that human hearts can 
 re-live and re-enjoy forever all that was beautiful and good 
 in the annals of personal experience. It is upon that w^hich 
 memory supplies from scenes fled forever, in connection with 
 that which hope furnishes from the future, that some hearts 
 live. For there are not a few to whom the present, with all 
 its activities and excitement, is void of pleasure. Persons 
 whose known and felt duties are discharged in a manner 
 which indicates very clearly that the springs of action have 
 received a stunning blow, and that the affections are some- 
 where else. (Jo with me to that mansion externally embel- 
 lished wih all the marks of affluence, and within gorgeously 
 furnished with all the comforts and decorations which a re- 
 fined taste could suggest and wealth command, and what do 
 
18 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 we see ? An air of silence and of gloom pervades those 
 halls once filled wilh light and joyous hearts. Behold the 
 mistress of that palace, formerly so brilliant and happy, now 
 so sad and pale. All her movements are mechanically per- 
 formed ; and her conversation is destitute of spirit. Why is 
 that brow, where once played the light of hope, shrouded 
 with care ? Why are those eyes from which gleamed a con- 
 stant sunshine, so dim with much weeping? And why is 
 that countenance, once wreathed in winning smiles, now 
 covered with a fixed and oppressive sadness? O ! it is the 
 blight of death which has fallen upon that home, and its 
 shadow still lingers upon its inmates. That mother is often 
 missed by the members of the household ; and when sought, 
 is found by that little bed in which the loved one last slept, 
 or seated by that drawer in v.'hich she had deposited the 
 memorials of her departed ; and one by one she looks over 
 the toys which had amused her child, and the garments 
 which it wore, and the golden locks which adorned his brow 
 whik^ living. These are links of communication between 
 the living and the dead ; they are silent messengers recalling 
 many kind words, affectionate smiles, and pleasant endear- 
 ments, in which this bereaved one once delighted. Wearily 
 pass the hours, and heavily does the day wear away, for a 
 weighty sorrow clogs the wheels of time. 
 
 And as the light of day withdraws, and the quiet evening 
 brings the husband from the scenes of his toil, it is not the 
 cheerfulness of other days which irradiates his countenance 
 as he enters his home. For he hears no little footsteps pat- 
 
COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 19 
 
 tering over the hall to greet him with their childish welcome. 
 He is solemn and thoughtful. A shade of sadness steals 
 over his features, while involuntary sighs rise from out the 
 holiest depths of his being. Those merry voices of inno- 
 cents which were wont to thrill his soul are all hushed ; and 
 those sounds which were to him the sweetest earthly melo- 
 dies that could greet his ear, have died away, and he only 
 hears their faint echoes reverberating through the chambers 
 of memory. Distant and indistinct, yet charming his 
 thoughts away to the period when his circle was unbroken, 
 and no lamb was missing from the flock. And not only 
 does the deserted place of the hearth remind them that their 
 home has lost some of its attractions, but their desolateness 
 of heart, and the suggestions of the things around them, bid 
 those bereaved parents to seek comfort in communion \Yith 
 the past. Nature, in her varying aspects, wakens remem- 
 brances of other days, and, therefore, inculcates the same 
 lesson. 
 
 Spring, bright, beautiful spring, comes with its soft winds, 
 its singing birds, and blooming flowers. But fitted as this 
 season is to inspire delightful feelings, and awaken pleasant 
 emotions ; the year in its youth also brings with it, fresh 
 recollections of the departed. It is suggestive of painful 
 reminiscences, so that while it loosens the fetters of the ice- 
 bound streams in nature, and sends them laughing on their 
 way; it also opens afresh the fountains of grief in human 
 hearts by the remembrances which it brings. For it tells us 
 of those v.'ho were arrayed in the freshness and loveliness of 
 
20 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 the spring-time of life, but who faded before the blossom ha(\ 
 been succeeded by the fruit. And while the melodies of 
 sweet warblers are floating on the air, they remind us of 
 accents, which shall no more be uttered on earth. The 
 flowers which we had planted, spring up to reward our 
 labor. We had their seeds brought from a foreign clime, we 
 cherished and tended them, and now, as if with gratitude to 
 the eyes that watched them, and the hands that cultivated 
 them, they wake into life under the warm breath of the south- 
 wind, and unfold their delicate leaves to the kissing sun- 
 beams, while they bathe the atmosphere wnth their delicious 
 fragrance. But these are also links which bind us to the 
 past, because emblems of our faded glory. They seem 
 endowed with speech ; for their unsullied purity, their 
 delicate structure, their sweetness and their frailty, all vividly 
 picture to our minds those flowers which the hand of 
 heaven had planted in the garden of our home, but which 
 had scarcely bloomed before they withered. Thus it happens, 
 that this season, flushed with so many beauties, and radiant 
 with so many joys, carries us back to the period, when hands 
 now mouldering in the dust gathered with us the violet and 
 the lily, and hearts, now still, beat warm to ours, as together 
 we rested by the warbling brook, or rejoiced in rambles 
 through field and forest. Blessed, joyous days were those! 
 And blessed be God, that we can recall those scenes, and 
 feel those joys which then flowed in untroubled streams 
 through the channels of our beinjj! 
 
 And as the flowery and joyous spring rolls into the golden 
 
COAIMUNIOX WITH THE PAST. 21 
 
 summer, we find new monitors to connect our meditations 
 witli summers and friends loncc since o-one. The eoldeii 
 harvests remind us of those, who were brought to the grave 
 — "Like as a shock of corn cometh in his season," full of 
 days and honors. The ripe grain and matured fruits of the 
 earth, speak of venerable parents, "who having served their 
 day and generation according to the will of God, fell asleep 
 and were gathered to their fathers." And while this season 
 revives recollections of the aged good, and those who were 
 cut down in the midst of life loaded with such honors as a 
 grateful people can bestow ; it also brings to our remembrance 
 those buds of promise which were early transplanted to that 
 clime where no withering winds blow, and no burning suns 
 consume, but where eternal youth clothes the immortals. 
 
 And as we are ushered into autumn whh its sered foliage, 
 the countless deaths which we witness in expiring nature 
 cause us to think of the beloved who have passed away as 
 the grass of the field, and whose glory has faded as the 
 flower of the grass. And while emotions of regret are 
 kindling within us, the mournful sighings of autumnal winds 
 through the stubble and naked shrubbery breathe notes of 
 sadness which symphonize with the music of our bereaved 
 hearts. The leaves quivering for a moment in the sharp 
 blast, then rustling through the boughs in their descent to the 
 earth, })roclaim the frailty of mani " For we do all fade as 
 the leaf." And in the lofty oak stripped of its foliage and 
 stretching its bare arms out towards heaven as if in suppli- 
 cation that the few leaves which yet tremble on its branches 
 
22 COMMUNION AVITII TUE PAST. 
 
 might be spared by the gale, we have a fit emblem of many 
 a parent who like Jacob of old utters his touching complaint, 
 "Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and now would ye also 
 take Benjamin away? All these things are against me." 
 
 And thus also when winter comes, it too calls up thoughts 
 of the departed. As the mother composes her little ones to 
 rest, and draws around them the curtains to shield them 
 from the cold air, she thinks of those who sleep far away in 
 the silent grave, over whom the night winds blow, and for 
 whom the drifting snow forms the only covering. And when 
 seated around the cheerful fire, we do not blame her for 
 dropping those silent tears as she muses on the past. And 
 how painfully do those festival occasions, the happy Christmas, 
 and the merry New Year, remind us all of those who once 
 participated in the innocent amusements of those seasons ! 
 Those time-honored feslivals seem invested with a sort of 
 enchantment which peoples the hour with all those with 
 Yv'hom v>e ever enjoyed sweet fellowship. I know not why, 
 but to my mind there is a mysterious influence connected 
 with the recurrence of Christmas which irresistibly attracts 
 me to kindred souls. As the shades of the evening gather 
 around me, I seem to hear the fond inquiries and kind greet- 
 ings of absent friends as they were wont to break upon my 
 ears, and thoughts of other days come thronging back upon 
 my mind like spirits from a distant tomb ; — thoughts, some 
 bright and beautiful as the images of angels, and others robt'd 
 in gloomy apparel, and breathing soft notes of melancholy 
 llirough my soul. And in that hour the veil of oblivion is 
 
COMMUNION AVITII THE PAST. 28 
 
 lif ed and I see all my past life opened to my view, and each 
 recurrence of this festival stands radiant with those joys with 
 which my happy childhood crowned it. And prompted hy 
 those yearnings of my spirit for kindred souls, I exclaim, 
 " 0, that I had the wings of a dove," then woakl I fly to my 
 distant loved ones. I woidd hasten to greet my aged father 
 at his fireside, and breathe a prayer at his knees. I would 
 pass from home to home, until I had mingled in the joys or 
 sorrows of all whom my soul loveth. I would leave tliose 
 earthly abodes and ascend into heaven, and seek among the 
 armies of the skies my dear sainted ones, and commission 
 one of those sons of light to wing his flight to all my beloved, 
 and shake upon their happy circles odors borne fresh from 
 the paradise of God. But as it is only in thought that I can 
 obey these impulses of my being, I never fail on those occasions 
 to breathe the prayer, that He who was born in Bethlehem, 
 may be born in every heart, and find a home in every family ; 
 and that the myrrh and incense of grateful souls may be 
 poured upon the altar of Him, who assumed our nature, that 
 we might share his glory. And while such feelings and 
 yearnings are not peculiar to an individual, but shared in 
 common by all whose sensibilities are alive to the force with 
 which the law of association operates, it is not marvellous 
 that on such occasions our sainted friends should be more 
 vividly presented to us, than at any other time. And it is 
 therefore not singular that, while we make our little gifts to 
 those whom a kind Providence still continues with us, the 
 images of those who have gone to heaven should be fre- 
 
24 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 qiiently recalled. And then, and then only, can we realize 
 the extent of that void which the removal of one little cherub 
 produces. It has been beautifully said, " that nothing on 
 earth casts so long a shadow as the little coffin." And 
 small as are those graves which hold their infant remains, 
 they are sufficiently capacious, to gather within their embrace 
 the dearest joys and fondest hopes of parental hearts. Ye 
 blest little slumberers, ye know not how you fill our thoughts, 
 and blend with all our feelings — how our affections now 
 linger around your precious dust, and now rise to your bliss- 
 ful abode on high. 
 
 That very interesting associations are kept alive with the 
 departed, that kind feelings are fostered, and that the most 
 tender recollections of them linger in the memories of the 
 living, is abundantly manifest from the many testimonials of 
 undying affection which adorn the places of their repose. 
 
 Laurel Hill Cemetery, that charming city of many dead, 
 will furnish us with illustrations of this truth. Often have I 
 regarded with admiration the efforts of survivors, as exhibited 
 within that sacred enclosure, to perpetuate the remembrance 
 of those who were dear to them. There we meet with many 
 tokens which eloquently express the language of wounded, 
 but loving hearts. There is one little grave there, on which 
 the figure of a lamb, in a state of repose, speaks to us the 
 thoughts which are cherished of the innocence, gentleness, 
 and rest of the slumberer. There is another, where stands 
 the guardian angel with his eye fixed upon the slumbering 
 dust ; thus imaging the security and happiness of the departed, 
 
COMMUNION AVITH THE PAST. 25 
 
 and reminding the survivors that their sainted are under the 
 guardianship of angels, and the companions of those blessed 
 spirits who minister to the heirs of salvation. And there, 
 too, has the sculptor's chisel fashioned out of marble the 
 rose-bud, and the half-blown flower, broken from the parent 
 stem and fallen to the earth. And there, also, lies separated 
 from the stock, the lily, as fresh and white as though it had 
 just dropped. Again, we behold the well-formed urn, the 
 broken shaft, the anchor and the cross, all appropriate and 
 .significant symbols, speaking the language of afTection, of 
 regret, and of hope, from living and loving hearts. And still 
 more delicate and touching ofi'erings of friendship are seen, 
 in the many vases and wreaths of choice flowers which are 
 daily laid upon the tombs. These tokens of affection assure 
 us that warm hearts fondly throb around those places where 
 beloved ones repose. Even that stranger who sought and 
 obtained a resting-place on the verge of that bank laved by 
 the gentle Schuylkill, is not forgotten, for his grave is often 
 fragrant from the tributes furnished by delicate hands. 
 
 And not only may we learn from the attractive manner m 
 which these tombs are adorned, but also from their inscrip- 
 tions, that their inmates were loved, and that they are remem- 
 bered. The value of these chaste and costly monuments is 
 frequently enhanced by the sublime sentiments which consti- 
 tute their records. Let us pause a moment before some of 
 these memorials of departed worth, and examine the inscrip- 
 tions dictated by piety and affection. There is the stately 
 3 
 
26 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 pile ^Yhich marks the resting-place of the philanthropist, and 
 we read — 
 
 " A friend to the fatherless, and his bounty caused the 
 v.'idow's heart to sing for joy." 
 
 " The blessing of those who were ready to perish, came 
 upon him." 
 
 There is the tomb of a beloved parent, with this inscription : 
 
 " Our mother sleeps ! when will the morning dawn ?" 
 
 Here also is one erected by a Christian congregation in 
 memory of him who broke unto them the bread of life, and 
 their feelings have found expression in the language of the 
 prophet. " How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet 
 of him that bringeth good tidings ; that publisheth peace ; 
 that bringeth good tidings of good ; that publisheth salvation; 
 that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth !" 
 
 And not far distant do we find the epitaph of a weary 
 pilgrim, w'ho hoped and longed for heaven. " Think of me 
 as a w-anderer who hath found his home ! " 
 
 And what breathings of tenderness and words of hope do 
 we find on the marble of those many little graves, which we 
 meet in every enclosure consecrated to the dead. In one of 
 these there are two reposing, whose spirits, only a few hours 
 apart, took wing for the bosom of God ; and it is written of 
 them — 
 
 " Lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death 
 *hey w'ere not divided." 
 
 " Side by side they're sweetly sleei^ing— 
 Little loved ones early blest ; 
 
COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 27 
 
 Free from care and pain and sorrow, 
 Oh ! rejoice tliej' are at rest." 
 
 And there is yet another, who sleeps lonely and far 
 removed from those in whose family crown he shines as the 
 first immortal gem with which God adorned it, whose grave 
 is guarded by kind friends, and whose history is written on 
 his tomb-stone in the sublime words of the great Redeemer ! 
 " Of such is the kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 Perhaps there are individuals whose sympathies are not in 
 unison with sentiments like these, and who may be disposed 
 to smile at those expressions of tenderness, which fond hearts 
 have caused to be engraved upon the slab which designates 
 the spot where their beloved repose ; but such are either 
 void of sensibility, or they have never tasted the cup of 
 bereavement, and are therefore not competent judges of what 
 is, or is not, a fitting epitaph. Even if those little records are 
 sometimes crude in sentiment, or not remarkable for the 
 taste which has decided upon their appropriateness, they yet 
 possess an air of sacredness which forbids criticism, even on 
 the part of those whose culture and refinement qualify them 
 to discriminate between what is, and what is not, offensive to 
 good taste. It is not often the language of adulation, but 
 that of the heart, which is found upon the tomb ; and therefore 
 it is not the intellect, but the heart, which should sit in judg- 
 ment upon it. But those who know from personal experi- 
 ence, what it is to pass through the deep waters of affliction. 
 and who have felt the pain which accompanies the severance 
 of a shoot of life from the heart, will behold beauty, pro- 
 
28 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 priety, and meaning in those little records, which the 
 inex{)erienced in such trials may not be able to discover. 
 Nature seldom if ever acts wrongly, when its operations are 
 in conformity with those laws which the Creator has ordained 
 for its government. And where reason discharges its appro- 
 priate functions, and religion controls these human tendencies, 
 those expressions of grief and of hope on the part of the 
 bereaved are perfectly consistent, because consonant Avith 
 the laws of our being. And instead of censuring the practice 
 of writing in modest language on the tomb of a friend, the 
 virtues with which his character was jeweled, and thus 
 spreading out to the public eye the history of one whose call- 
 ing and condition in life precluded the probability of his being 
 extensively and intimately known, we would rather encourage 
 it, for the reason that it cannot injure any one, while it may 
 benefit some. For the tomb-stone has sometimes been a 
 successful preacher; — one whose discourses have produced 
 effects upon the careless, which other instructions could not 
 accomplish. In some instances it has been instrumental in 
 begetting immortal hope in souls which, until brought within 
 its influence, w^ere never animated with gratitude and love to 
 God. 
 
 Leigh Richmond, a man of blessed memory, who was 
 honored with many seals to his ministry, gives an interesting 
 account, in the " Young Cottager," of the impressions which 
 the reading of those records on the tomb-stones around the 
 church, where he was accustomed to meet the children of his 
 parish, to instruct them in the principles of the gospel, made 
 
COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 29 
 
 upon that child's mind. " SoineUmes," he says, "I sent 
 the children to the various stones which stood at the head of 
 the graves, and bade them learn the epitaphs inscribed upon 
 them." On one occasion he sent the little cottase g^irl to 
 commit the following epitaph, which he greatly admired. 
 
 " Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, 
 
 That mourns thy exit from a world like this ; 
 
 J'orgive the wish that would have kept thee here, 
 
 And stfiy'd thy progress to the seats of bliss. 
 
 " No more confin'd to grov'ling scenes of night. 
 No more a tenant pent in mortal clay. 
 Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight 
 And trace thy journey to the realms of day." 
 
 Having finished her task, she returned and informed her 
 instructor that she had also learned the following, which he 
 subsequently discovered had deeply impressed her mind : 
 
 " It must be so — our father Adam's full 
 And disobedience, brought this lot on all. 
 All die in him — but hopeless should we be, 
 Blest Revelation, were it not for thee. 
 Hail, glorious gospel ! heavenly light, whereby 
 We live with comfort, and with comfort die. 
 And view beyond this gloomy scene, the tomb, 
 A life of endless happiness to come." 
 
 According to her dying testimony, the influence of those 
 epitaphs, in connection with the instructions of her pastor, 
 which were frequently enforced by illustrations drawn from 
 the grave-yard, was instrumental in her salvation. 
 
 And there are, no doubt, many of that multitude who now 
 stand radiant with glory in the presence of God, who will 
 forever, and with gratitude, remember lessons v>hich they 
 3* 
 
30 COMMUNION WITH THE TAST. 
 
 learned in the places of sepulture on earth. And while the 
 Holy Spirit has thus made sentiments, chronicled upon the 
 marble, vehicles through which He has entered and renovated 
 hearts, we i»nd in such results, as well as in that com- 
 munion of souls which they promote, a sufficient warrant for 
 the erection of appropriate memorials to departed friends, 
 and an ample vindication- of the practice of inscribing there- 
 on such epitaphs as nature and religion may suggest. 
 
 And in addition to the considerations already presented, 
 we might urge as another argument for the propriety of hold- 
 ing communion with the past, the soothing influence which 
 it has upon bereaved souls. The present may offer to the 
 contemplation of an individual a complete prostration of his 
 fondest expectations, and spread around him an utterly 
 cheerless desolation. Clouds and darkness may hang about 
 our path, and the mind may not be able to seize upon a 
 single sustaining principle or object fitted to inspire light and 
 courage. But as David frequently sustained his spirit by 
 the memory of past mercies, so there may be bright pictures 
 along the pathway of life over which we have journeyed, 
 where our dying hopes may be rekindled. 
 
 "There's not a 'leath, however rude, 
 
 But hath some little flower 
 To brighten up its solitude, 
 
 And scent the evening hour. 
 There's not a heart, however cast 
 
 By grief or sorrow down. 
 But hath some memory of the past, 
 
 To love and call its own." 
 
 The bee does not with truer instinct guide its flight to the 
 
COMMUNION WITH THE TAST. 81 
 
 f^ir-off flower, than the mind throws its thoughts back to those 
 brighter scenes which have gladdened former days. It may 
 be that these sensations of pleasure which float along those 
 chords of association which connect the presenfr^vith happier 
 scenes, account for the singular phenomenon, that the sweet- 
 est of all melody to the wounded and weary is the music of 
 their own breaking hearts. But the influence of the exercise 
 here reconmfended does not produce only a mollifying and 
 quieting effect upon lacerated hearts, but it may also be made 
 subservient to the interests of our salvation. It is a subject 
 of frequent remark, that few persons are permanently bene- 
 fited by those providential dispensations which desolate their 
 homes. The death of a cherished friend which at first 
 overwhelmed the heart with the deepest sorrow, becomes 
 less painful as the period of its occurrence is removed. 
 And as the picture loses its vividness in the distance, the 
 resolutions of improvement which had been formed are 
 forgotten. This will be the inevitable result where first im- 
 pressions are not strengthened and guided to a blessed issue, 
 by frequently recalling the scene of trial and considering the 
 end which it was intended to accomplish. It is well, there- 
 fore, to carry the lessons of their bereavement with them into 
 their retirement, and there consider calmly the dealings of 
 God with them. And we doubt not that the most disconso- 
 late may have their sorrows so judiciously and tenderly 
 directed, that their mourning will issue in rejoicing ; and the 
 harps which have long hung unstrung upon the willows will 
 again be tuned, and swept to the praise of Him whose ways 
 are unsearchable, but whose judgments ai'c riglit. 
 
32 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 But if we would attain the highest benefits of affliction, 
 we must command such a scope for our meditations as to 
 associate the occurrences of other days with those great 
 realities which are still future ; for it is from comprehensive 
 views of human destiny and the Divine government, that we 
 derive valuable lessons and solid consolation. The efful- 
 gence of those eternal realities which stand out to the vision 
 of faith, has its lustre augmented by the reflected glov/ of our 
 departed days of sunshine. For while our afTections fondly 
 linger around the graves which contain all that was 
 earthly in our beloved, our thoughts are charmed away to 
 that bright inheritance which their spirits have gone to 
 possess. And heaven has already become more attractive 
 to us, because they are there. The eternal song rises in 
 louder and sweeter harmonies, because the voices whose 
 music gladdened us on earth are mingling in the hymns of 
 Cherubim and Seraphim. The white-robed multitude is 
 arrayed in a more brilliant glory, because our sainted ones 
 are of that number. And the lustre of the New Jerusalem 
 has become more resplendent, because in the midst of its 
 glories owr jewels shine. Blessed, holy ones! how beautiful 
 you make the memories of the past, how radiant the pros- 
 pects of the future ! It cannot be wrong to indulge in such 
 reflections, for they are eminently fitted to assist us in our 
 preparations for a better world. That they may be made 
 tributary to this end is abundantly manifest from that 
 capability of the human mind which enables it to con- 
 template with satisfaction those things amiable in others, 
 
COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 33 
 
 the very consideration of \Yhiich will foster a love for all that 
 exalts them in our estimation. By such a process as this 
 may the living incorporate into their own characters those 
 virtues which they most valued in their departed. And thus 
 our growth in moral excellence will be promoted, and we 
 will endear ourselves to those with whom we are associated, 
 thereby enlarging our sphere of usefulness. Were tht-y 
 blameless in their deportment? So may we become inno- 
 cent. Were they distinguished for kindness of heart and 
 gentleness of temper ? In us these may also form promi- 
 nent characteristics. Did their presence diffuse a glow 
 of happiness as doth the blessed sunshine ? We may 
 imitate their example, and become a blessing to those 
 around us. Was their piety the steady brilliant light 
 of true heart-devotion ? Upon our hearts also may the 
 Divine fire burn, and make us "the light of the world." 
 Did hope illumine their hour of dissolution, and did their 
 i^pirits take wing from the radiant summit of salvation ? By 
 a similar course of life " our death may be that of the 
 righteous, and our last end like unto his." If we subject 
 our hearts to those influences which operated so advan- 
 tageously for them, we may expect like blessed eflects. 
 Take the highest type of Christian character — it is formed 
 by a combination of the loftiest of known virtues ; its 
 possessor is a centre of light, and exerts a fragrant influ- 
 ence, and makes the ways of piety attractive by his gentle 
 and Christ-like spirit: still this standard of excellence lies 
 within the reach of every humble and sincere follower of 
 
34 COMMUNION WITH THE PAST. 
 
 Jesus. Surviving friends may gather all these blessed fruits 
 by recalling the excellencies of their sainted ones, if 
 they are animated with a similar purpose, accompanied with 
 like perseverance and faith. And by such an importation of 
 the virtues which shone in the characters of our departed into 
 our being, we will derive lasting benefit from communion 
 with the Past. And it is by such means that our Heavenly 
 father will cause " our light afflictions to work out for us a 
 far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 
 Thus, under the tuition of the Holy Spirit, we may gather 
 honey out of the mouth of the destroyer, while a gracious 
 Providence wreathes our clouds of dark calamity with 
 brilliant bows of promise. From these considerations we 
 may see the propriety of holding communion with the past ; 
 for it brings the virtues of the departed good into collected 
 forms, and makes them flaming orbs, whose light gilds the 
 pathway of life and makes our future radiant with immortal 
 hopes. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 THE SAC REDNESS OF TEE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 "Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, 
 
 Some frail memorial still, erected nigh, 
 With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, 
 
 Implore the passing tribute of a sigh. 
 Their name, their years, spelt by the unletter'd muse. 
 
 The place of fame and elegy supply ; 
 And many a holy text around she strews, 
 
 To teach the rustic moralist to die. 
 For -who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey. 
 
 This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigu'd, 
 Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind. 
 On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 
 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 
 E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, 
 
 E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires." 
 
 Among the instincts which do honor to human nature, 
 there is none deserving of more exalted rank than that which 
 causes us to respect the dead, and constrains us to regard as 
 re]i"-iously sacred the places of their repose. (The shrines of 
 the dead are holy^ A mysterious sacredness encompasseth 
 the sepulchres of the departed. There is a stillness about 
 the "rave which breathes an air of quietness over all the 
 
 (35) 
 
86 THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 scenery around it, and which invests every object with a 
 silent, but impressive power. The atmosphere seems to 
 partake of the sanctity of the place, and the winds blow in 
 softer whispers, because they sigh their requiems over the 
 dead. Even the trees and flowers do not there appear as 
 gay and brilliant as elsewhere, but are tinged with those 
 pleasing melancholy hues which the grave only can impart. 
 The graveyard and cemetery are not common ground. They 
 are enclosures where all is not earthly ; for there the living 
 and the dead hold communion, and the influences of two 
 worlds blend. God has clothed these acres, where seed 
 for the resurrection morn is so^\^l, with a sacredness which 
 none but the grossly profane can venture to disturb ; while 
 He has also implanted in the hearts of the living such senti- 
 ments of reverence for the sainted as will form a perpetual 
 bulwark around their slumbering dust. All men seem con- 
 scious of the truthfulness of this assertion ; and hence, we 
 find among all a uniform regard for the graves of the 
 departed. 
 
 Children are often the most competent teachers, when 
 lessons pertaining to the impulses and instincts of our nature 
 are to be learned. They shall be our instructors here. It 
 was on a bright morning in May, as I had set out on a visit 
 to one of those beautiful cemeteries in the vicinity of Phila- 
 delphia, that my attention was arrested by a group of sprightly 
 children. I observed them tripping along the hill-side until 
 they reached a spot where bloomed the violet and hare-bell ; 
 and I saw their little hands busily engaged in gathering 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 37 
 
 bunches of these, and they then approached the entrance of 
 the sacred enclosure where I stood. As soon as they entered, 
 then' innocent glee abated, their merry voices subsided into 
 gentle whispers, and they moved about with subdued feelings, 
 inspecting the graves and reading the inscriptions on the 
 tomb-stones. I followed on, until they paused before a little 
 grave, and I read on the slab which covered it, the touching 
 record — " Our Willie." On this tomb two of the little girls 
 laid their treasure of violets. Why do you strew these 
 flowers on this grave, I asked ? They looked at me with an 
 air of surprise, and replied, " Why, sir, our brother Willie 
 sleeps here, and we love him, and often bring him flowers!" 
 After the others of their company had made similar 
 offerings to beloved ones, they left the place without disturb- 
 ing any thing, and with apparently happy hearts. Such are 
 the feelings of children, and they exhibit the instincts of 
 nature in relation to the sepulchre. And there is no better 
 method of ascertaining the remains of that which is com- 
 mendable and lovely in our depraved humanity, than by 
 observing the unreserved and untaught out-flows and motions 
 of the hearts of uncorrupted children. For their minds do 
 not yet labor under the pressure of those false notions, which 
 are the growth of riper years, but which despoil the heart of 
 its early and sweet sensibilities ; neither are they yet the 
 subjects of those cares and anxieties which freeze the 
 fountain of the soul's sympathies. But it is not only in 
 children that we may witness a becoming respect for the 
 graves of the departed^ out also in all those of mature years, 
 4 
 
38 THE SACREDNESS OP THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 whose culture has not been grossly neglected. And if there 
 are those occasionally found who would rudely tread upon 
 the dust of a fellow-mortal, they are such as have outlived 
 the finer and holier feelings of early years. Yet such are 
 seldom met with; and among the multitudes of those who 
 move among the mansions of the dead, there are few whose 
 emotions do not partake of the sanctity of the place. And 
 this veneration for the abodes of the dead is a sentiment not 
 peculiar to an age, or a nation, but is coextensive with time, 
 and wide-spread as the human family. For while there may 
 exist at different periods a diflference of sentiment in relation 
 to the same subject, no such diversity has marked the feelings 
 of the race in its respect for the dead. One age may prize 
 the monuments of art and of science, and cherish with intense 
 enthusiasm those trophies of genius which have come down 
 to them from a remote period, while their immediate succes- 
 sors may be as remarkable for the contempt with which they 
 treat those ancient memorials of intellectual triumph. But 
 in whatever else mankind have differed in their several 
 generations concerning the same thing, this feeling of respect 
 for the sepulchre was never impaired, neither is it liable to 
 change. From the remotest antiquity down to the present 
 hour, have men loved and venerated the silent abodes of the 
 dead. 
 
 Various causes have doubtless contributed to invest the 
 tomb with a high degree of sanctity. And apart from that 
 instinctive veneration for it, of which all are conscious, the 
 other causes most active and chiefly instrumental in clothing 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCIIRE. 39 
 
 it with its sacredness, are to be souglit in its origin, and the 
 ])roibund respect with which it has from time immemorial 
 been regarded. Its origin dates far back in history; — to 
 such a remote period in the past, that it may be safely 
 assumed to be coeval with death. And if so, is not its 
 origin Divine ? It would seem that such an inference might 
 be legitimately drawn from the declaration of God, at the 
 time when He announced to our first parents in Paradise, 
 the penalty of their disobedience. "Dust thou art, and unto 
 dust shall thou return." While there is nothing positive or 
 specific in this language, as to the mode in which the human 
 body should be resolved into the dust from which its elements 
 had been taken, it would certainly suggest itself to the mind, 
 that the most befitting way to dispose of the body would be 
 to deposit it in the ground, that it might quietly moulder 
 back to its mother. There is moreover a propriety which 
 could not escape the consideration of the living, in thus 
 removing from their sight the form of a beloved one while 
 it still w-ears the impress of beauty and life, that the 
 humiliating process of decay to which all must be subjected 
 might be seen only by the eye of Plim, whose hand will 
 reconstruct it glorious and immortal. But if such an infe- 
 rence from the sacred text were not allowed, and if we 
 could offer no tangible proof that the spirit of God even 
 suggested such a disposition of the dead, the custom of 
 inhuming has enjoyed the Divine sanction in all ages of the 
 w^orld. 
 
 In the most ancient of the Divine records, there are 
 
40 THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 frequent allusions to the grave as a place of sacred rest. It 
 is represented as a safe and blessed retreat from the miseries 
 of earth, and as a scene of undisturbed tranquillity in contrast 
 with the disquietudes of life. Job speaks of " the house 
 appointed for all the living," and hopefully looks forward to 
 the tomb, as a place where " the wicked cease from troubling, 
 and where the weary are at rest." 
 
 Abraham uttered the language of nature and religion, 
 when he said to the sons of Heth, " give me possession of 
 a burying-place with you, that I may bury my dead out of 
 my sight," And the offer which the sons of Heth made to 
 Abraham, " in the choice of our sepulchres bury thy dead," 
 conclusively shows that inhumation was generally practised 
 in those times. But Abraham seemed unwilling that his 
 sainted wife should repose undistinguished among strangers, 
 and therefore insisted on purchasing a lot of ground for this 
 particular purpose, " And Abraham weighed to Ephron the 
 silver which he had named in the audience of the sons of 
 Heth, four hundred shekels of silver, current money. And 
 after this, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the 
 field of Machpelah, before Mamre, the same is in the land 
 of Canaan." And this lot which he purchased remained as 
 a family burying-ground ; for after Abraham had died, the 
 sacred record informs us that his sons Isaac and Ishmael 
 buried him in the cave of IMachpelah. In this 'entire 
 proceeding of this ancient patriarch, there is a beautiful 
 exhibition of tenderness and regard for the dead. He would 
 not receive the field as a proffered gift, but paid for it; neither 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 41 
 
 was he willing to accept the offer of a sepulchre, but provitled 
 one lor her whom he loved. It is manifest from his conduct, 
 that his feelings concerning his departed were the same as 
 the bereaved now experience ; for he neither wished to forget 
 the companion of his bosom, nor have her buried where her 
 grave might be exposed to the intrusion of strangers. He 
 cherished those sentiments of regard for the sainted dead of 
 which all the good are conscious, and of the existence of 
 which they give pleasing evidence in their care to beautify 
 the tombs of their departed. 
 
 Jacob, in the closing scenes of his life, also gives us a 
 touching exhibition of the yearnings of his being for the dust 
 of his kindred. Although he had experienced many distin- 
 guished mercies in the land of Egypt, and the honorable 
 positfbn of his son Joseph would have secured for him a 
 royal intombment in that country, yet did he earnestly desire 
 that his body might repose with his friends, and his dust 
 mingle with theirs. "And he charged them" (his sons) 
 " and said unto them, I am to be gathered unto my people ; 
 bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of 
 Ephron the Hittite : in the cave that is in the field of JMach- 
 pelah ; which is before Mamre in the land of Canaan, which 
 Abraham bought with the field of Ephron the Hittite, for a 
 possession of a burying-place. There they buried Abraham 
 and Sarah his wife, there they buried Isaac and Rebecca his 
 wife, and there I buried Leah." And this dying request was 
 religiously observed ; for we are informed that Joseph with 
 the royal sanction, ordered the most imposing fiineral obse- 
 4* 
 
42 THE SACIIEDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 qules for his father. A large multitude, composed of 
 Hebrews and Egyptians, accompanied the remains to Canaan, 
 where they buried Jacob amid great lamentation and mourn- 
 ing. And the same intense desire to repose with his fathers 
 in that hallowed spot manifested itself in Joseph during his 
 last moments. " And Joseph said unto his brethren, I die, 
 and God will surely visit you, and bring you out-of this land 
 unto the land which he sware to Abraham, to Isaac, and to 
 Jacob. And Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel, 
 saying God will surely visit you, and ye shall carry up my 
 bones from hence." 
 
 That the people of God attached a very high degree of 
 sacredness to the sepulchre, may also be gathered from the 
 importance which they ascribed to an honorable burial. To 
 be deprived of this they viewed as one of the most distressing 
 calamities that could befall them. There is an affecting 
 instance of this kind mentioned in II. Sam. xxi. 9-14. The 
 sons of Rizpah had been delivered to the Gibeonites, who 
 slew them, and exposed their bodies. The mother of these 
 unfortunate persons " took sackcloth, and spread it upon a 
 rock from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon 
 them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air 
 to rest upon them by day, nor the beasts of the field by 
 night." And when it was told to David, he ordered their 
 remains to be gathered up and decently interred. In this 
 touching incident we see the regard which a mother had for 
 the bodies of her sons. And there is not that mother living, 
 if she be worthy of that holy name, who would not, under 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 43 
 
 like circumstances, sit down and watch the remains of those 
 whom she loved until reheved from her office by death. 
 And a similar abhorrence of being exposed to insult, or 
 devoured by the fowls of heaven, or the beasts of the field, is 
 expressed by Solomon, when he says, "If a man live many 
 years and be not filled with good, and also have no burial, I 
 say that an untimely birth is better than he." In the seventy- 
 ninth Psalm, the treatment of the dead on the part of the 
 heathen is thus deplored. " The dead bodies of thy saints 
 have they given to be meat unto the fowls of heaven, the 
 flesh of thy saints unto the beasts of the earth. Their blood 
 have they shed round about Jerusalem, and there was none 
 to bury them." A like feeling prevailed among other nations 
 on this subject. The Eg}'ptians carefully embalmed their 
 friends, and, after suitable preparations for interment, they 
 used the precaution to place them where they might remain 
 undisturbed. And such care marked their disposition of the 
 dead, that but for the restless and inquisitive antiquarian, 
 they would have slumbered on unmolested in their silent 
 mansions until the dawn of the resurrection morn. And it is 
 a well-established fact, that all nations deplore the fate of 
 those to whom the right of sepulture is denied. A distin- 
 guished writer on the Antiquities of Egypt says, that among 
 that ancient people there was a regularly organized court, 
 before which the character of the deceased person was 
 examined prior to his burial. If he had not lived in accord- 
 ance with established rules burial was denied, and he was 
 cast into a pool. If, however, the constituted authorities 
 
44 THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 pronounced a favourable judgment upon his character, an 
 honorable disposition of his body was ordered. And those 
 cases where interment was not allowed produced the most 
 painful distress among survivors ! And this instinctive dread 
 of being left without burial is common to all. With what 
 imploring looks does the emigrant mother beg of the captain 
 of the vessel, that he might spare her child's body until they 
 touch at some friendly shore where it may be committed to 
 the earth ! 
 
 Another proof of the sacredness of the sepulchre may be 
 drawn from the universal regard with which it is cherished. 
 Wherever we meet with allusions to the grave, whether in 
 sacred or profane history, there is invariably associated with 
 it a high degree of sanctity. And not only is it manifest 
 in the records of nations that they regarded the tomb as 
 something inviolable, but they have also shown a uniform 
 respect for the sepulchre by the care which they bestow upon 
 it. A traveller, in speaking of Eastern sepulchres, remarks : 
 " If we except a few persons who are buried within the 
 precincts of some sanctuary, the rest are carried out at a 
 small distance from their cities and villages, where a great 
 extent of ground is allotted for that purpose. Each family 
 has a particular portion of it walled in like a garden, where 
 the bones of their ancestors have remained undisturbed for 
 many generations ; for in these enclosures the graves are all 
 distinct and separate, having each of them a stone placed 
 upright, both at the head and feet, inscribed with the name 
 of the person who lies there interred ; whilst the intermediate 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCnUE. 45 
 
 space is either planted witli flowers, or paved all over \viih 
 tiles." Mr. Buckingham, another traveller, says, " Not far 
 from the spot where we halted to enjoy this enchanting view, 
 was an extensive cemetery, at which we noticed the custom 
 so })revalent among Eastern nations, of visiting the tombs of 
 tlieir deceased friends. These were formed with great care, 
 and finished with extraordinary neatness ; and at the foot of 
 each grave was enclosed a small earthen vessel, in which was 
 planted a sprig of myrtle, regularly watered every day by the 
 mourning friend who visited it. Throughout the whole of 
 this extensive place of burial we did not observe a single 
 grave to which this token of respect and sorrow was not 
 attached ; and scattered among the tombs, in different 
 quarters of the cemetery, we saw from twenty to thirty 
 females, sitting near the honored remains of some recently 
 lost and deeply- regretted relative or friend, and either water- 
 ing the myrtle plants, or strewing flowers over the green turf 
 that closed upon their heads." 
 
 In the book of Nehemiah, there is an interesting account 
 of an interview which took place between that Jew and 
 Artaxerxes, which illustrates the regard these representatives 
 of two nations exhibit&d for the sacredness of the p-rave. 
 Nehemiah was the son of one of the gaptives in Babylon, and 
 although born and reared in that country, he cherished that 
 love for the Holy Land which is common to every Jew. 
 Doubtless all that was glowing in the history of God's chosen 
 people was communicated to him in childhood, and it is 
 therefore not singular that his heart should burn with patriotic 
 
46 THE SACEEDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 love. Having heard from some who had come from Pales- 
 tine, of the privations and sufferings to which those were 
 subjected, who had gone there to rebuild Jerusalem, and also, 
 of the desecration of the tombs of the Prophets and Kings of 
 Judah, he gave himself to earnest prayer, and besought God 
 to make him instrumental in the deliverance of his brethren, 
 and in the restoration of the Holy Land. His appearance 
 before the king is best described in his own pathetic narrative. 
 "And it came to pass in the month of Nisan in the twen- 
 tieth year of Artaxerxes the king, that wine was before him, 
 and I took up the wine and gave it unto the king. Now I 
 had not been beforetime sad in his presence : wherefore the 
 king said unto me, why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou 
 art not sick? this is nothing else but sorrow of heart! Then 
 I was very sore afraid, and said let the king live forever ; 
 why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the 
 place of my father's sepulchres, lieth waste ? " There could 
 not be a more delicate, yet profound expression of his reve- 
 rence for the o-raves of his fathers. He makes no mention of 
 the desolations of the city, only in so far as they related to 
 the condition of the sepulchres of his kindred. He does 
 not picture the departed glory of Jerusalem, he says nothing 
 of her broken-dow^n walls, her fallen palaces, her temple in 
 ruins, only so far as these have affected those sacred enclosures 
 which contained the dust of her illustrious dead. There was 
 no eye to watch, no hand to adorn, and no arm to defend 
 the tombs of the Prophets. There is not an incident in the 
 history of this distinguished man, which sheds a brighter 
 
THE SACKEDNESS OE TJIE SEPULCHRE. 47 
 
 glow over his eventful life. His noble spirit had borne up 
 under the varied and weighty calamities which had cast their 
 dark shadows over the Holy Land, or emptied their woes 
 upon the chosen nation. He had become reconciled to all 
 the humiliations incident to his own condition, and endured 
 his servitude with cheerfulness ; but the intelligence of these 
 profaned sepulchres brought such a settled sorrow upon his 
 heart, that, even to the eye of a stranger, it was painfully 
 mirrored upon his countenance, and awakened the solicitude 
 of the Persian monarch. 
 
 Before we conclude our examination of this subject, it may 
 be important to consult the views and practices of the primi- 
 tive Christians in relation to the departed and the places of 
 their repose. Christianity in its influence does not suppress, 
 but rather exalt and ennoble the feelings of human nature. 
 Its grand aim is to build up, not to destroy ; to correct, to 
 chasten, and to purify the tendencies of our nature, and not 
 to make us stoically indifferent when the tender relations of 
 life are sundered by death. " From the first," says Neander, 
 " Christianity condemned the wild, and at the same time 
 hypocritical expressions of grief with which the funeral 
 procession was accompanied ; those wailings of women who 
 had been hired for the occasion : yet it required no stoic 
 resignation and apathy, but mitigated and refined the 
 anguish of sorrow by the spirit of faith and hope, and of 
 child-like resignation to that eternal love, which takes, in 
 order to restore what it has taken under a more glorious 
 form ; which separates for the moment, in order to re-unite 
 
48 THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 the separated in a glorified state through eternity." "We 
 ought not to mourn," says Cyprian, " for those who are 
 delivered from the world by the call of the Lord, since we 
 know they are not lost, but sent before us." " They live 
 with God!" "There await us a multitude of those whom 
 we love, fathers, mothers, brothers, and children, who have 
 secured already their own salvation, and are concerned only 
 for ours." But while they were thus comforted by the hopes 
 and promises of the gospel, diese very consolations gave 
 origin to the custom, which required that the memory of 
 departed friends should be celebrated by their relations, on 
 the anniversary of their death, in a manner conformable to the 
 spirit and hope of religion. On these festival occasions the 
 Lord's Supper was administered, and was intended to convey 
 the idea "of their inseparable fellowship with those who had 
 died in the Lord." For the same reason did they deposit gifts 
 on the altar in the name of their departed, because they were 
 still "living members of the church." Besides these more 
 private or family celebrations of the memory of those who 
 had been called to the church triumphant, whole communi- 
 ties joined in commemorating the death of martyrs. "The 
 anniversary of the death of such individuals was looked upon 
 as their birth-day to a nobler existence." " On each return- 
 ing anniversary of their birth-day (in the sense which has 
 been explained), the people gathered around their graves, 
 where the story v>'as rehearsed of their confession and suflrr- 
 ings, and the communion was celebrated in the consciousness 
 of a continued fellowship with them, now that they were 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 49 
 
 united with him for whom, by their sufferings they had 
 witnessed a good confession." This custom among the 
 early Christians was not only innocent and beautiful, but 
 eminently fitted to promote spiritual edification, to strengthen 
 their faith, and to inspire the living with fortitude to live, to 
 suffer, and to die for Christ. That it was afterwards -per- 
 verted and made to minister to superstition cannot be denied ; 
 but whatever subsequent abuses may have grown out of it, 
 these could not vitiate the original excellence and beauty of 
 the principle. 
 
 The pious solicituae manifested in the times of persecution, 
 by the followers of the Redeemer, to rescue the mutilated 
 remains of their martyred brethren from the contumely and 
 msults of the Pagans, and the care with which they attended 
 to the interment of such fragments of their bodies as they 
 could obtain, attest the respect which they cherished for the 
 dead, and their veneration for the rights of sepulture. They 
 regarded the body of the Christian as the sanctified organ 
 of the soul, and were therefore not only solicitous to provide 
 for it a place of repose, but sacredly cherished the grave, 
 from which it was one day to arise in its glorified form. 
 
 In the History of the Church, by Eusebius, lib, iv. ch. 15, 
 there is recorded a letter from the church of Smyrna, givmg 
 an account of the martyrdom of Polycarp, their bishop, in 
 which they reply to the heathens, who refused to give up the 
 remains of the martyr "lest the Christians should abandon the 
 crucified and begin to worship IdmV The church writes — 
 "our envious and malignant adversary, that wicked enemy 
 
 5 
 
50 THE SACKEDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 of all the righteous, seeing the lustre of his martyrdom, had 
 provided that not even his corpse could be obtained by us, 
 though many of us eagerly wished it, so as to have commu- 
 nion with the sacred body. It was suggested that we would 
 desert our crucified master, and begin to worship Polycarp. 
 Foolish men ! They know not, that we can neither forsake 
 that Christ who has suflTered for the salvation of all men, nor 
 w^orship another. Him we adore as the Son of God ; but the 
 martyrs we love as they deserved for their imconquerable 
 love to their king and master, and because we also wish to 
 become their companions and disciples. The centurion 
 therefore caused the body to be burned ; we then gathered 
 his bones, more precious than pearls and more tried than 
 gold, and buried them. In this place, God willing, we will 
 meet in joy and gladness and celebrate the birth-day of his 
 martyrdom, in remembrance of the departed champion, and 
 for the purpose of exercising and arming those whom the 
 conflict is still waiting." Here then we have the reason 
 why they manifested such a commendable anxiety to possess 
 the bodies of those who fell victims to the spirit of persecution : 
 it was, that they might commune with each other and with 
 the departed, around their holy sepulchres. 
 
 But they also exhibited their regard for the dead and their 
 reverence for the grave, by erecting suitable memorials in 
 honor of those whom they loved. They constructed monu- 
 ments of the most costly and durable materials, and inscribed 
 upon these the virtues of the deceased. Their cemeteries 
 were prepared with great care, and sacredly guarded against 
 profane intrusions. 
 
THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 51 
 
 " The Christians called their burial-places Koi/ji.r)rY)pia, dormi- 
 tories, because death, in the light of the Gospel, is a sleep. 
 These dormitories, as we here see, were frequented by the 
 Christians, as peculiarily calculated to cherish religious senti- 
 ments, particularly if these places had been the depositories 
 of martyred confessors. It was here, too, where, in the firm 
 faith that death is but a sleep, they could hold a kind of com- 
 munion with departed virtue, and find their own strengthened 
 by it. Well may Christianity be pronounced the only true 
 philosophy, when she arrays our greatest terrors in such a 
 light." — Euseb. lib. vii., chap. xiii. 
 
 Many of these were constructed underneath the surface 
 of the earth; and, no doubt, with a view to afford the perse- 
 cuted disciples of our Lord a safe retreat, where they might 
 worship Him unmolested. In after years of quiet and victory 
 over their enemies, they sometimes erected churches over 
 the graves of distinguished saints. 
 
 We have, therefore, the ample and conclusive testimony 
 of sacred and profane history to sustain the sacredness of the 
 sepulchre. And shattered and vitiated as our humanity is, 
 it still claims as one of its jewels reverence for the tombs of 
 our departed. And although some may raise the cry of 
 superstition and man-worship, where notliuig more is 
 intended than merited respect, we regard the feeling which 
 invests the abodes of the dead with sanctity, as one of 
 exceeding beauty and worth. The absence of such a senti- 
 ment in man must greatly detract from his character, and 
 is almost demonstrative proof that he is a stranger to those 
 
52 THE SACREDNESS OF THE SEPULCHRE. 
 
 heavenly inspirations with which the religion of Jesus 
 peoples the human heart. It is not possible that any exalted 
 and noble feelings should live where there is no respect <for 
 the grave. Even those who make no pretensions to piety, 
 and are therefore destitute of those finer sensibilities which 
 are the offspring of high moral culture, linger fondly and 
 mournfully around some ancient ruins, and utter most 
 pathetic and deeply-moving sentiments. And if the ashes 
 of the cities of antiquity can kindle such sublime emotions in 
 the bosom of man, should not the mouldering dust of the 
 human form, once divine, glow under our contemplations 
 with the fires of immortality.'' Aye, we do feel, and we 
 could not wish to feel otherwise, that the enclosures where 
 the departed repose are holy ground. The instincts of 
 nature, and the religion of Jesus, who sanctified the sepul- 
 chre with his own immaculate body, bid us cherish the 
 graves of the sainted as holy shrines. Venerable mansions 
 of our departed ! we will place some mark of affection upon 
 you. And if we can bring no other offering, we will plant a 
 flower or shrub, and water it with our tears, that some 
 emblem of life and immortality may remind the passer-by of 
 tlie glory of that day when the hand of the great Redeemer 
 shall rebuild these fallen temples of the Holy Ghost. 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED. 
 
 ' Oft let rae range the gloomy aisles along, 
 Sad luxury ! to vulgar minds unknown, 
 Along the tombs where speaking marbles show 
 What worthies form the hallow'd mould below; 
 Proud names, who once the reins of empire held, 
 In arms who triumph'd, or in arts excell'd ; 
 Chiefs grac'd with scars, and prodigal of blood, 
 Stern patriots who for sacred freedom stood ; 
 Just men by whom impartial laws were given, 
 And saints who taught and led the way to heaven." 
 
 Visits to the places where our departed repose are 
 prompted by the instincts of humanity, and the suggestions 
 of love. They have been withdrawn from those circles 
 which their presence made glad. Their voice mingles no 
 more in the hymn of praise which rises around the family 
 altar ; they are not of the number who meet around the 
 cheerful hearth ; and in their retirement they claim from us 
 an occasional visit to their graves. The remotest period in 
 my history to which memory points, is when about five years 
 of age. I was alone on the green lawn that stretches out 
 before the home of ray childhood, calling my sainted mother, 
 and wondering why she did not answer my call, and hasten 
 5 * (53) 
 
54 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 to my side. And were it permitted, would she not have 
 withdrawn herself from her angel companions, and winged 
 her flight to the presence of her lonely child ? Yea, I know- 
 not but that she was present with me, and her sweet spirit 
 may have held my thoughts in communion with her. It is a 
 beautiful and consohng thought, and one certainly not in con- 
 flict with, but rather encouraged by, the teachings of inspira- 
 tion, that we have our guardian angels to accompany us on 
 our pilgrimage through life ; to minister to us in a way we 
 know not ; yet defending us from the assaults of the tempter, 
 and bearing us safely through the dangers which encompass 
 the road in which we travel. God promised to Israel that, 
 His angel should guide and guard them through all their 
 wanderings. " Behold, I send an angel before thee, to 
 keep thee in the way, and to bring thee into the place 
 which I have prepared." " The angel of the Lord en- 
 campeth round about those who fear him." " He shall give 
 his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. 
 They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy 
 foot against a stone." " Are they not all ministering spirits 
 sent forth to minister to the heirs of salvation ? " And by 
 whom, among the armies of those spirits around Jehovah's 
 throne, would the office to guide and guard us be more fondly 
 accepted and more faithfully executed, than by those who 
 are removed from us, but who still love us ? 
 
 The doctrine concerning guardian angels, though perhaps 
 not as clearly revealed as many others, yet has its foundation 
 in that universality of belief, which clothes any dogma with 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 55 
 
 something of a divine sanction. It may be regarded as 
 belonging to that class of truths, which enter into all creeds, 
 because they have never been questioned, but always received 
 the cheerful assent of the hearts and minds of all men. The 
 Jews firmly believed that it was the prerogative of each one 
 to be accompanied by an angel, whose office was to shield 
 them from those destructive influences, physical and moral, by 
 which they were surrounded. And the belief in guardian 
 angels is equally general among Christians, And if the idea 
 were even imaginary, and possessed nothing real in itself, it 
 would still be well to cherish the belief for the sake of the 
 influence which this persuasion exerts upon the mind. For 
 by a law of our nature, as powerful as it is sure in its opera- 
 tions, man becomes gradually identified with the feelings 
 and sentiments of his companions, until he is altogether 
 assimilated to their character. If we are continually asso- 
 ciated with persons whose minds are cultivated, and whose 
 characters are adorned with lofty virtues ; we will perhaps 
 imperceptibly, yet steadily, rise to that intellectual and moral 
 elevation which they occupy, and ultimately be conscious of 
 a perfect harmony of sentiment, of taste and disposition with 
 those who have attracted and moulded our spirits into the 
 imasfe of their own. And in view of those results w-hich the 
 law of intercourse invariably produces, the persuasion of 
 attendant spirits will necessarily exert an elevating and 
 purifying influence upon us. Our intellectual and moral 
 exercises will partake of that dignity and sanctity which are 
 peculiar to those of angelic beings. And if to this we add, 
 
56 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 the consideration that, among those invisible ministers com- 
 missioned to guard us, there is one whom we fondly cherish ; 
 a father, a mother, a companion, or brotlier, or sister, or 
 child, moving with us through this busy and bustling world; 
 hovering about our path by sea or by land, by night and by 
 day, in public and in private, a spectator of all our actions, 
 and a witness of all our ways ; will not this conviction be a 
 sleepless prompter to virtue, and a constant monitor to warn 
 us against vice ? Will not the conscious presence of our 
 sainted one bind in strong fetters our evil propensities, and 
 thus save us from sin ? Will not the felt nearness of some 
 such beloved spirit animate us in every good work, and 
 make us strong in every conflict? Will it not give us 
 fortitude in trials, patience in suffering, hope amid dark 
 calamities, lift our aspirations to heaven, and bear our whole 
 spiritual being, as on eagle wings, onward to the bosom of 
 God ? O, if we cherish a realizing sense of the presence of 
 these holy ones, we cannot willingly commit sin ! We 
 cannot tear from our hearts and trample in the dust those 
 lessons of instruction, which their example in life and their 
 hope in death engraved upon our minds. 
 
 But, it may be asked, what bearing have these considera- 
 tions upon the subject which constitutes the basis of this 
 chapter? and in reply to this question, I need only remark, 
 that if we believe our departed to be occupied in unremitted 
 watchings and ministrations for our good, would not this 
 conviction place us under solemn obligations to manifest our 
 gratitude and love for them, by frequent visits to those sacred 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 57 
 
 retreats where their bodies skimber? And if the spirits of 
 our sainted are cognizant of our actions, and if any earthly 
 transaction can heighten those raptures that are ever flowing 
 through the channels of their glorified being, it might be 
 presumed that such visits to their graves would have this 
 effect. For the existence of a pious remembrance of the 
 departed, amid the mutations and excitements of earth, where 
 wave afier wave sweeps violently across the mind, and 
 obliterates or displaces by new ones, impressions which 
 former events had made, would afford them the pleasing 
 indication that its possessor is not lost in the whirl of earthly 
 pursuits, and utterly forgetful of heaven and those who have 
 gone there. But apart from all considerations of pleasure 
 which it might afford to the sainted, there are many substan- 
 tial reasons which might be urged upon the living to induce 
 thera frequently to visit the city of the dead. 
 
 Such visits are appropriate and beautiful. They are 
 suggested by the tenderest feelings of our nature, and 
 sanctioned by the examples of the great and good. Every 
 true but wounded heart echoes to its partners in sorrow 
 the invitation, 
 
 " Come unto the cLui'ch-y.ard near, 
 Where the gentle whispering breeze 
 Softly rustleth through the trees; 
 Where the moonbeam pure and white, 
 Falls in floods of cloudless light, 
 Bathing many a turfy heap 
 Where the lowlier slumberers sleep ; 
 And the graceful willow waves, 
 Banner-like, o'er nameless graves : 
 
68 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 Here hath prayer arisen like dew, — 
 Here the earth is holy, too ; 
 Lightly press each grassy mound ; 
 Surely this is hallowed ground." 
 
 There is something exceedingly attractive in the place, 
 which constrains the visitor to linger long and pleasantly 
 about it. 
 
 But it is by these visitations to their tombs that we show 
 becoming respect to departed friends. They cannot come 
 to us, but we may go and linger around their ashes. And 
 it is surely a very appropriate way in which we may express 
 our regard for them. And to this are we also strongly 
 inclined by that undying affection which will forever bind us 
 in holy union with kindred spirits. Such visits are, therefore, 
 not to be regarded as dictated by an idle custom, nor the 
 offspring of an affected sorrow ; for in this we act from a 
 common impulse, the force of which all must acknowledge 
 who have tasted the cup of bereavement. And not only 
 are Christians conscious of this inward yearning for the dust 
 of beloved ones, but those also who are destitute of the 
 Christian's hope find themselves irresistibly drawn to those 
 places where their kindred repose. Account for it as we 
 may, the voice of Natu-e is stern and peremptory in its 
 demands in this respect ; so that if it cannot move the body, 
 it will command the soul on such visits. It is one of those 
 mysteries the force of which we feel, but the nature of which 
 we cannot fully explain. Our feelings, after a few changes 
 in life, will become more or less localized. And we dis- 
 cover that there are some places and some objects which they 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 59 
 
 uill seek, as the volatilized steel seeks the magnet, and 
 around which they will as firmly cluster. And such localities 
 and such objects are enshrined in our memories, because 
 consecrated by our affections and baptized with our tears. 
 Thus are our hearts bound by a viewless chain to the dust 
 of dear departed ones ; and if, perchance, the pressure of 
 some worldly duty, or the attraction of some social interest 
 divert the thoughts and cause the heart for a moment to for- 
 get its treasure, it will turn to it again as truly as the needle 
 turns to the pole, after those disturbing influences are 
 withdrawn. Our nature yearns towards the sepulchres of 
 our departed, as though a part of our own being were laid 
 there. If, therefore, we would not do violence to the laws 
 of our own being, and war against one of the holiest 
 impulses of our nature, we cannot be wanting in those offices 
 which it is still in the power of the living to render to the 
 dead. Go, then, thou bereaved one, as often as circum- 
 stances will permit, to that little grass-grown mound, or to 
 that larger grave — go, visit the hallowed spot consecrated by 
 the ashes of thy kindred. It will amply compensate you for 
 your trouble ; for it will feed the flame of that pure love 
 which unites you to that far-off one who made your past life 
 beautiful with blessing, and who may fill your future with large 
 and glorious good. 
 
 But the influence v.-hich such visits exert upon the mind 
 and heart may also be urged as a motive for occasionally 
 repairing to the silent abodes of the dead. Cyprian, in 
 speaking of the early Christians, says, " that in seasons of 
 
60 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 persecution they were accustomed to resort to the sepulchres 
 of their martyred brethren for prayer and meditation; and 
 that they retu-rned from these more resolute and courageous, 
 and even willing to endure the most violent death for the 
 cause of their Master." And the influence which is exerted 
 upon the mind by the graves of the pious dead is always 
 beneficial. These mansions are eminently suggestive ; and 
 there is much about the entire scene of a grave-yard which is 
 fitted to detach us from earth, and bind us to heaven. It is 
 a "^lace where the thoughtful may gather gems for their 
 crown of glory. 
 
 " Through these branched -walks •will contemplation ■wind, 
 And grave wise Nature's teachings on his mind ; 
 As the white grave-stones glimmer to his eye, 
 A solemn voice v\"ill thrill him, ' Thou must die !' 
 When Autumn's tints are glittering in the air. 
 That voice ■will ■whisper to his soul, ' Prepare !' 
 When AVinter's snows are spread o'er hill and dell, 
 ' 0, this is death !' that solemn voice will swell ; 
 But when with Spring streams leap and blossoms wave, 
 * Hope, Christian, hope,' 'twill say, ' there's life beyond the 
 grave ! ' " 
 
 Aye, these inclosures will give birth to thoughts whose 
 mighty sweep will embr?ce all that is real and noble in time, 
 and all that is great and giowmg in eternity. 
 
 Is it the tomb of an honored parent that we visit ; one 
 who gave us existence and cherished us in our feeble infancy? 
 0, what memories of holy love, of pious nistructions, of 
 affectionate endearments, come thronging round the soul, like 
 bright spirits! The records of memory will glow as if newly 
 
OP OUR DEPARTED. 61 
 
 written in letters of light. Is it the grave of a beloved mother 
 where we stand? My mother! 0, what a world of thought, 
 what an ocean of bliss there is in this holy word ! Yes, 
 here sleeps my mother. She who forgot the anguish of her 
 soul in her joy that I was born. She whose eyes were held 
 waking over my infancy, when all others slumbered but- the 
 eye above. She whose love rendered her perceptions so 
 Keen and far-sighted, that she perceived and guarded me 
 against dangers while they were yet distant. She who quieted 
 my feeble cries on her gentle bosom. She who first bent 
 over me in devout supplications, and taught me the music 
 of Jesus' name. She whose last words were words of bless- 
 ing, and whose spirit, as it rose from that couch of suffer- 
 ing to eternal mansions, shook from its wings the incense of 
 prayer upon my head. Blessed holy one, who lived in her 
 child. Rejoiced when I was happy ; was in anguish when I 
 was pained. The first to know and to relieve my sorrows. 
 The first to be interested in my childish prattle, and to guide 
 my tottering footsteps. Dear departed one ! shall I not here 
 recall thy watchful care and thy unwearied love, and thank 
 the Good Being who gave me such a treasure in thee? Such 
 thoughts and feelings are fitting at such a place where a 
 mother sleeps, and becoming those who can appreciate a 
 mother's afTection. For who that has enjoyed her care and 
 received her instruction may not breathe out his soul in senti- 
 ments such as shine in the poem of Cowper, on the receipt 
 of his mother's portrait? Who would not join a living 
 author, in his tribute to maternal worth ? — 
 6 
 
62 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 "My Mother! manliood's anxious brow 
 
 And sterner cares have long been mine ; 
 Yet turn I to thee fondly now, 
 
 As when upon thy bosom's shrine 
 My infant griefs were gently hush'd to rest, 
 
 And thj' low-whisper'd prayers my slumber blest. 
 I've por'd o'er many a yellow page 
 
 Of ancient wisdom, and have won, 
 Perchance, a scholar's name — but sage 
 
 Or bard have never taught thy son 
 Lessons so dear, so fraught with holy truth, 
 As those his mother's faith shed on his youth." 
 
 But perhaps some of my readers may have had the mis- 
 fortune, like the \vriter of these pages, to lose their mother 
 before they could know her or appreciate her worth. And. 
 0, what reflections are those of which we are conscious at 
 her tomb ! If we could but recall her image, or the accents 
 of her voice, or the thrilling touch of a mother's caresses! 
 Alas ! all this is denied to some, and there is nothing left to 
 tell them how she looked ; for there were few pencils then 
 employed to transfer the image of the living upon the 
 canvass, and the sunbeam had not then learned to engrave 
 likenesses upon the poHshed plate. Did I say there was 
 nothinof left to assist the imagination in the creation of her 
 image? 0, yes, every virtue which brightens our character 
 was warmed into life by her love. For, although the seeds 
 of those virtues which adorn our characters are divine, because 
 they came from heaven, yet were they planted by a mother's 
 hand and watered by a mother's tears ; and they have 
 matured in our lives, because the eye of a covenant-keeping 
 God rested upon her prayers as chronicled in His book. O, 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 63 
 
 my beloved, my sainted mother! Though I never looked 
 upon thy face to know thee ; though not conscious at the 
 time that it was the music of thy throbbing heart that lulled 
 me into peaceful slumbers ; though unknown to the sense 
 of sight, my spirit knows thee, and no human heart has ever 
 thrilled with a holier love than mine for thee ! Yet again 
 shall I be folded in thine embrace ; for thy tomb reminds me 
 that I am mortal, and thy prayers have prevailed with God, 
 for thy son is on his pilgrimage to Zion ; and, when weary 
 and wayworn on my journey, the thought that I shall know 
 thee in heaven as my mother animates me v^'ith new strength, 
 and I press onwards to thy blessed home on high. 
 
 And thus, also, may we linger with profit around the grave 
 which contains the ashes of an honored father. For, "he 
 being dead yet speaketh." Although death has silenced his 
 tongue, and hushed the pulsations of that noble heart which 
 beat in unison with the will of heaven, he still lives ! He 
 lives in that legacy of good principles, and in the force of 
 that unsullied example, which he bequeathed to his family. 
 No tongue of malice can taunt us with any gross imperfections 
 in his life ; for his character was transmitted to his posterity 
 untarnished and without a flaw, and will forever sparkle as a 
 brilliant gem in the crown of his children's glory. He aimed 
 to impress upon the hearts of his offspring lessons of virtue, 
 and to write in their minds laws of purity and love. It was 
 his purpose to send them out into the world as transcripts 
 of his" own character, jeweled with many and lofty virtues. 
 Such a father's principles are immortal, and will, by their 
 
64 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 mysterious but potent influence, continue to mould society 
 for generations to come. Enshrined in the afTections of those 
 to whom he gave existence, these principles will be incorpo- 
 rated in their lives and perpetuated by their children, and 
 will form a part of that moral power which is to regenerate 
 mankind and illumine the world until time and eternity 
 blend. The good never die! Their names are linked with 
 virtue, and virtue is imperishable ! As the vessel which 
 glides through the ocean raises waves that will break upon 
 the farthest shore, so the passage of a good man through this 
 world will wake influences which will live through all time, 
 and, passing on into the spirit land, will vibrate in the 
 raptures of the redeemed while the music of eternity lasts. 
 All that we have loved in a father we will recall at his grave, 
 and lessons long forgotten will rise up in all their beauty and 
 potency, to command our souls and to control our lives. 
 Every visitation to his tomb will strengthen the purpose, and 
 furnish fresh incentives, to walk in the footsteps of him 
 whose " hoary head was a crown of glory, because it was 
 found in the way of righteousness." 
 
 But it may be a companion to whom we are called to pay 
 these sad offices! A husband and father cut down in the 
 midst of life, at a period when it appeared most important 
 that he should live; a youthful and interesting family was 
 budding around him ; he had overcome those incipient 
 struggles which are incident to every vocation in life, and 
 had reached that degree of prosperity which enabled 'him to 
 devote much of his time to the improvement of his children. 
 
OF OUK DEPARTED. 65 
 
 But \vhile the sky was bright, and sunshine dwelt ujion that 
 circle of devoted hearts, suddenly did the bolt of the 
 destroyer fall and blight that Eden. The stay and support of 
 dependent ones is shattered — "the strong staff and the beau- 
 tiful rod is broken." And now, from that home which death 
 has desolated, there issues a wail of wo ! The cries of widowed 
 love and helpless orphanage come up to our ears — "Have 
 pity upon us, have pity upon us, 0, our friends; for the hand 
 of the Lord hath touched us." And yet is it well for that 
 inconsolable widow, whose wounds are kept fresh and bleed- 
 ing by the innocent inquiries of her little ones concerning 
 their beloved father, to come forth from her secret weepings 
 and her home of sadness, and repair to the grave which holds 
 her heart's treasure. For there may she be reminded how the 
 " Rod of Jesse was once bruised and laid in the sepulchre," 
 where it budded and blossomed, and so became a staff, able 
 to support those who trust to it for comfort. And while her 
 tears water the springing grass upon the new grave she hears 
 words of hope and consolation descending from the throne 
 of heaven — " Leave thy fatherless children with me ; I will 
 preserve them ; and let thy widows trust in me, saith the 
 Lord." For, "He is a father unto the fatherless and a 
 husband unto the widow." And as she looks out upon the 
 landscape and up to the out-spread heavens, and sees that 
 the Divine protection encircles and sustains all things, from 
 the ponderous world to the little atom, and from the tall 
 archangel to that worm which performs its evolutions in the 
 dust at her feet, her faith gathers strength, and light springs 
 6* 
 
66 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 up in her darkness, and, with a confiding spirit, she commits 
 herself and her children to the guardianship of that Almighty 
 being, in the strength of whose arm and in the love of whose 
 heart none have ever yet trusted in vain. 
 
 Or is it the grave of a devoted wife and faithful mother 
 that a surviving partner is to visit ? What can be more 
 consoling, than occasionally to linger around the hallowed 
 scene where the cherished one reposes ? He there feels a 
 nearness to her which he cannot realize any where else ; 
 and he experiences a mournful pleasure while strewing her 
 tomb with fragrant and frail memorials of her beauty and 
 love. And is not that the most appropriate place to rehearse 
 her virtues in the presence of his children, and there to 
 admonish thera to practise those lessons with which she 
 stored their minds ? The loss of a cherished wife and beloved 
 mother occasions a deep and wide-spread disaster. " In 
 comparison with the loss of a wife all other earthly bereave- 
 ments are trifling. The wife ! she who fills so large a space 
 in the domestic heaven — she who is so busied — so un- 
 wearied in laboring for the precious ones around her — bitter, 
 bitter is the tear that falls on her cold clay. You think of 
 her now, as all gentleness, all beauty and purity. The dear 
 head that laid upon your bosom rests in the still darkness 
 upon a pillow of clay ! The hands that have administered 
 so untiringly are folded, white and cold, beneath the gloomy 
 portals ! The heart whose every beat measured an eternity 
 of love lies under your feet ! The flowers she bent over 
 with smiles bend now above her with tears, shaking the 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 67 
 
 dew from their petals, that the verdure around her may be 
 kept green and beautiful" And 0, how tVill those hours of 
 past endearments rise radiant with their memories, and the 
 images of her beauty, her gentleness, and love, start up like 
 troops of angels from her sepulchre ! And in recounting the 
 excellencies which were embodied in the character of such a 
 loved one, the sainted seems present, and we almost fancy 
 that she participates in our sadness. 
 
 And if it be a child that we deplore, then have we com- 
 panions in our sorrow, and visits to its grave will afford us 
 occasions for mutual improvement. And here we touch a 
 chord which sends its vibrations through many hearts, for 
 who has not lost a child ? What flock has not yielded up 
 one, and that perhaps the first-born lamb, to the fold of the 
 good Shepherd ? There are few families where there is not 
 one chair vacant, one link in the family chain broken ; and 
 what can be more soothing to anguished hearts than visits 
 to their litde graves ? — perhaps it is the first one of the family 
 who has gone to the " house appointed for all the living ;" so 
 that a voice seems to call from its ashes not to forget it in 
 its loneliness. And what an array of little incidents con- 
 nected with their brief existence rise up before the mind 
 while we stand by that little mound. We recall not only all 
 that was pleasant in their life, but all that we experienced in 
 that sad hour when their wasted arms encircled our neck for 
 the last time, and all that we felt when we saw the coffin 
 descending into the deep grave. Around that sacred spot 
 do our affections still linger. Ah! that little grave, under 
 
68 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 the shadow of that tree where he had often played — the 
 place he loved— ^ there we laid him in our sorrow. But we 
 left him not to slumber alone, for we laid our hearts with him 
 in the tomb. We had often stood by other little open graves, 
 and, as we committed " dust to dust" in the hope of the resur- 
 rection, we thought happy lambs are these, so early folded, 
 and wondered why their peaceful death and happy departure 
 to heaven should cause distress. We marvelled that tears 
 should flow for those who had fled from the sorrows of earth 
 to the bosom of God. But we understood not those tears — 
 we knew not the anguish which wrung parental hearts, and 
 expressed itself in groans that shook the frame — until we 
 laid the snowy form of our own beautiful and gentle 
 boy in the grave. 0, then, as "bone of our bone, and flesh 
 of our flesh," was committed to the silent mansion, we knew 
 and felt it all ; yes, all ; and we would have deemed it a 
 privilege to lie down with him, that our dust might 
 have commingled with his. Many fond hopes do parents 
 form concerning their ofi^spring; for they are buds of promise, 
 which they would see unfold in all their loveliness. And so 
 had we formed expectations of our boy ; we thought him too 
 beautiful to die : but God had a place for him in his cherub 
 band, and so He sent a messenger to call him home. Long 
 and earnest were our vigils and prayers around his couch. 
 Anxious to retain him " we hoped against hope;" but in the 
 midnight hour his spirit went up on the wings of a storm, 
 that seemed to wail without in sympathy with that tempest 
 of sorrow which swept our souls that night. 
 
OF OUR DErARTED. 09 
 
 But it . s time to return from this circle of reflections, ^vhich 
 I suffered to enlarge that utterance might be given to all 
 hearts, over whatever loved one they might mourn, from the 
 hoary-headed sire to the little child. I would, hovv-ever, 
 yet observe, that visits to the tombs of the departed should 
 be encouraged, forasmuch as the blessings are many and 
 valuable which the bereaved and sorrowful may gather there. 
 The sepulchre of a friend will bring with great urgency 
 before the mind subjects which cannot be contemplated 
 without benefit to the soul. For while those cherished 
 places are fruitful in their suggestions of matter for profitable 
 meditation and prayer, they clothe these subjects with an 
 interest and beauty which they possess nowhere else. They 
 afford us just views of life, of death, and immortality, and 
 therefore have a tendency to keep the heart free from the 
 bondage of this world, and the thoughts associated with the 
 realities of a coming eternity. These tombs form connecting 
 links between the mortal and the immortal ; they are scenes 
 where the interests of the earthly and the heavenly, the things 
 of time and eternity, commingle, and where the inhabitants 
 of glory seem to meet earth's pilgrims, to inspire them with 
 perseverance in their upward toil to a crown of life. But 
 perhaps you say, I have the will to obey these suggestions 
 here offered, for they are consonant with the inclinations and 
 promptings of my nature, but this disposition is not coupled 
 with the needed ability ; Providence has ordained that my 
 beloved should sleep at a distance from my abode ! Far 
 beyond the ocean did death meet them, and they now repose 
 
70 VISITS TO THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 among strangers. In that distant land where, it was thought, 
 a mild and equable climate would successfully contend 
 with disease and re-establish a shattered constitution, they 
 died far from home and friends! Or, in that sunny isle 
 whither they fled with a feeble hope of restoration did disease 
 hurry them from earth! Or, on their home-bound voyage 
 they met death and found a watery grave. Be it even so ; 
 I too am far removed from the sepulchres of my departed, 
 and it is but seldom that I may drop a tear upon their ashes. 
 But a merciful Providence has furnished us with the necessary 
 ability to carry us in our meditations beyond the ocean, or 
 to any spot within the circle of our globe, wherever our 
 beloved sank into the lap of earth. And if the privilege of 
 visiting in person those consecrated places be denied us, let 
 us give wings to our spirits, that we may be carried to the 
 scene of their repose ! Let us go in the morning when the 
 new day is ushered in on its bright wings, and while our 
 minds are fresh and pure from the noisome cares of the 
 world ! In the morning, when the spring-flowers scent the 
 air with their sweetness, and the dew-drops, like showers of 
 diamonds, sparkle in the sunbeam, and remind us of the 
 glory of those " who shine as the brightness of the firmament, 
 and as the stars for ever and ever !" And let the evening 
 hour woo our meditations to the far-off grave, when the 
 glorious orb of day is sinking into his bed of gorgeous and 
 golden-tinged clouds in the western sky, and the stillness of 
 the evening hour reminds us of their peaceful passage, 
 in the light of a joyful hope, from this scene of turmoil 
 
OF OUR DEPARTED. 71 
 
 into the quiet and beautiful home of the blest! At some 
 such hour take your position in thought by the graves 
 of your cherished ones, and, wherever that spot may be, we 
 will stand beside you, and togedier we will interrogate the 
 sepulchre for such lessons as it may be able to impart ; 
 for it may be that, as it has caused us sorrow^, it may also 
 give us joy ! and as it has filled our eyes with weeping, it 
 may fill our hearts with peace ; for the same soil which 
 produces the thorn that wounds us also nourishes the 
 flower whose fragrance causes us to forget the pain. For, 
 behold ! the sepulchre is no longer that darkly-terrible and 
 loathsome receptacle since the hand of the great Redeemer 
 has scattered in its mould the seeds of immortality : for he 
 " who has brought life and immortality to light " has been 
 down in its chambers and illumined its darkness with His 
 glory! He has sanctified the shrines of the dead, and thus 
 constituted the grave a peaceful retreat, and the safe abode 
 of those who fall asleep in Jesus, where they shall slumber 
 on until waked to behold the raptures and glories of Eternal 
 Life. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 The lessons which the sepulchre is fitted to teach are 
 various, instructive, soothing, and hopeful. They impres- 
 sively set forth the momentous interests vrhich cluster around 
 life, death, and eternity. He is indeed a dull pupil who 
 does not improve under the instructions of such a master. 
 For his lessons are connected with all our hopes, enter into 
 all our pleasures, and shed a new and solemn aspect over all 
 conditions, over all stations, and over all the phases of our 
 present existence. They are adapted to all capacities ; those 
 necessary and useful are so simple that the comprehension 
 of a child masters them — and yet pregnant with the profound- 
 est mysteries that have ever baffled the laboring intellect of the 
 ripe philosopher. They are fitted to make all learners better 
 and wiser. For these instructions kindle hope in the bosoms 
 of the good calculated to incite to the attainment of greater 
 moral excellence, and cast such dark and deep shadows over 
 the profligate soul as should cause it to labor for entrance 
 into the light of God's favor. So humbling in their 
 influence as to make all ambitious aspirings kiss the dust ; so 
 sublime in their tendency as to exalt the thoughts and 
 expectations above the stars. August teacher of the nations ! 
 We venture into thy presence ! We pause in thy shadow ! 
 
 (72) 
 
LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 73 
 
 We bow at thy awful shrine to hear thy utterances ! Thou 
 art a universal teacher, declaring the same truths in all climes, 
 in all ages, and in all the tongues of earth. Thou art a 
 faithful instructor, neither awed by the pomp of kings nor the 
 power of tyrants, nor bribed by gold ; thou declarest the 
 same humiliating truths to the loftiest as to the lowliest, to 
 the wise and to the ignorant. Thou art an aged and vene- 
 rable teacher ! Six thousand years have left their wrinkles 
 upon thy brow, and the hoar of sixty centuries is upon thy 
 locks. The progenitor of our race was thy first pupil ; the 
 Patriarchs were thy disciples. The wild and wandering 
 hordes of the desert, and the civilized dwellers in ancient 
 cities, the Persians and Medes, the Egyptians and Jews, the 
 Grecians and the Romans, were all learners in thy school. 
 Thou hast known every nation in its varied fortunes and in its 
 final history ; for one after another was conducted into thy 
 mansions. Thou art acquainted with all men, from the 
 exiled lord of Eden to the one who is this moment consigned 
 to thy keeping ; for all have become thy guests and subjects 
 of thy empire. Awful sage ! we approach thee with deep 
 solemnity, but without fear ; for the Man of Calvary has 
 illumined thy stern countenance with the light of His triumph 
 over thy domain — we come, as docile scholars, to hear from 
 thy lips the lessons which thou art ready to impart. Thou 
 dost speak to the thoughtful of the value of our present ex- 
 istence, and its outflows and bearings upon immortality; but 
 especially dost thou teach us. First: — The End of all the 
 Living. The inevitable doom of dissolution is upon us, and 
 7 
 
74 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 all of US shall lie down in the sepulchre to slumber the 
 sleep of death. 
 
 " Our lives are rivers gliding free 
 To that unfathomed, boundless sea, 
 
 The silent grave ! 
 Thither all earthly pomp and boast 
 Roll to be swallowed np and lost, 
 
 In one dark wave I" 
 
 It is manifest to all who are given to observation, that the 
 Divine Being has been particularly solicitous to impress upon 
 the minds of all his rational creatures the fact that they must 
 die. And to this end he has so abundantly provided the 
 sources of that knowledge which relates to our present life 
 and its issues, that none can be ignorant of the last great 
 change which awaits us all. The Lord knew full well that 
 man would be liable to forget, not only that he would have to 
 meet death, but also that, in the multitude of objects which 
 challenge his attention and press upon his consideration, he 
 was likely to lose sight of the importance of constant pre- 
 paration for this event. That there is such a tendency in all, 
 none will presume to question. And, besides the probability 
 of having our thoughts exclusively occupied with things seen 
 and temporal, there is, also, an unwillingness on the part of 
 many to have their enjoyments disturbed, their pleasures 
 embittered, and their business trammeled by meditations on 
 this subject. And hence, if thoughts of death do arise in 
 some minds, they are regarded as unwelcome intruders and 
 summarily ejected. Why should I, says one, suffer my 
 thoughts to run upon a subject which might render me 
 
LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPAIITS. 75 
 
 gloomy, and give me a disrelish for business? Let the aged 
 ^Yho are trembUng under the weight of years ponder the 
 solemnities of the grave ! Let those who are stricken with a 
 fotal malady be occupied with such reflections as are 
 suited to a transition from time to eternity; but, as for me, I 
 have other and more agreeable duties to discharge ; at least 
 for the present I will not surrender myself to such exercises 
 as might cool my ardor, or moderate my exertions in the 
 race whh my competitors, for the honor and wealth of this 
 world ! And it is not singular that thoughts of death are 
 unwelcome to him on whose path the golden god has 
 scattered his shining dust,, and over whose life forbidden 
 pleasures shed their enchanting power ; for the glitter of 
 earthly prosperity blinds his mind to all that is great and 
 glowing in the things of eternity, and the seductive charms 
 of a delusive world hold his spirit a willing captive of the 
 dust ; so that, while he yields his reluctant assent to the truth 
 that there is a time to die, it becomes not one of those 
 strong convictions whose influence is heard in the conversa- 
 tion and seen in the conduct! And while he is continually 
 reminded in the decay around him, that all created objects 
 are subject to those laws of mutation whose silent but 
 resisdess operations are carrying all things to their dissolution, 
 he does not allow his soul to be borne on the strong pinions 
 of holy aspirations to that world where all thino-s remain 
 unblighted. The vanishing cloud, luminous with the sunset 
 glow, is an emblem of those bright things which melt away 
 under his touch ; while the fading leaf and the witherino 
 
76 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 flower continually announce that "the fashion of this 
 world passeth away!" Yes, all things material have their 
 beginning, their growth, their maturity, and decay ; from the 
 delicate flower which blooms on the bleak and rocky clitl, to 
 the brightest luminary in the firmament on high ; from the 
 atom that is constantly diminished by the friction of atmos- 
 pheric waves, to the granite that yields particle after particle 
 to the kissing billow of the deep ; all — all are passing away. 
 The pen of history is daily chronicling on her pages the 
 names of the great who had filled the world with their fame ! 
 So numerous are those who claim the admiration of the 
 world, that, with all the dazzle- of military renown, or the 
 lustre of successful statesmanship, the charms of literature 
 and science, and the more durable radiance of unsullied 
 virtue — few of the multitude of the great who have passed 
 away from among the living receive that homage which they 
 deserve. The remembrance of not a few is displaced by 
 other illustrious characters who have risen up in their places ; 
 but how many are daily passing into eternity who were never 
 known beyond the immediate circle which was the sphere 
 of their exertion. As the gentle rains which descend upon 
 the ocean never ruffle its bosom nor hush its roar, so there 
 are thousands daily departing without producing any percep- 
 tible effect upon society! Many remain unknown while 
 living and unsung when dead ; yet all men see enough of 
 change and death within the circle of their observation, 
 limited as it may be, to assure them that here they have no 
 abiding city : and their own experience reiterates the lessons 
 
LESSOXS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 77 
 
 of their mortality, if they have 3ii eye to see, a mind to 
 reflect, and a heart to feel. All have heard, not only from 
 the holy word and the dying- pillcw, but from all objects, 
 that "it is appointed unto man- once to die!" All are 
 conscious that whatsoever is earthly is hastening towards a 
 dissolution, either immediate or remote ; so that it scarcely 
 seems necessary to have a monitor, like Philip of Macedon, to 
 remind us that we are mortal. For, in all our occupations 
 and walks, we look upon no living thing which is exempt 
 from the tremendous necessity of dying. I behold the 
 magnificent forest robed in its leafy apparel, the home of 
 beasts and birds and millions of insects ; but of all those 
 leaves w'hich flutter in the breeze there is not one which is 
 not destined to fade — of all those beasts that roam its path- 
 less wilds — of all the birds that warble their morning and 
 evening songs through that wilderness, there is not one bird, 
 or beast, that must not die. In the sphere of my labors I 
 meet thousands of my fellow-creatures with greater or less 
 promise of a long and sunny future, but that earthly future 
 has a limit. I look over my assembled flock, and, as my eye 
 wanders from the hoary- headed pilgrim over those manly 
 forms where strong hearts beat, and the current of life flows 
 full — and over youth flushed with beauty and health, even 
 down to the little child that I have consecrated to God at the 
 baptismal font — among these thousands there is not one who 
 is not on his way to the sepulchre ; among all the warm 
 hands which I have or may yet grasp in friendship there is 
 not one that shall not moulder in the tomb — not one counte- 
 7* 
 
78 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 nance now animate with life but will be stricken with the 
 palor of death — not a voice whose friendly greetings vibrate 
 through my soul but will be hushed in the silence of the 
 grave — there is not an eye that glows with affection that 
 shall not grow dim — not a brow clothed with thought but 
 shall be shrouded with the shadow of death — and not one 
 heart which beats in unison with mine but will one day be 
 pulseless. 
 
 What an evil art thou, ! death, M'hen I consider the deso- 
 lations which mark thy path ! When we think of the Edens 
 which thou dost blight, the hopes which thou dost quench, 
 the hearts which thou dost still, and the homes which thou 
 makest desolate, do we not rightly call thee the great 
 destroyer ? Aye, thou art not satisfied with those whom thou 
 hast already hurried to thy mansions, for thou hast set thy 
 mark upon all the living, aged and young, parent and child 
 — all, all must die. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding this truth is echoed by the moans of 
 the dying gale and the expiring gentle breeze ; by the closing 
 day and the ever-changing aspect of the world ; by the earlh 
 and the heavens ; there is no place where we realize it so 
 Avell, and with so much profit, as at the sepulchres of our 
 departed. JMore impressive are its instructions on this subject 
 than the fall of empires, or the wasting pestilence ; for no- 
 where can I feel my own frailty so well as at the grave of my 
 friend. I may take my station on the banks of a flowing 
 stream, whose waters are hastening with their tribute to the 
 sea, and it may teach me the rapidity of Time's restless 
 
LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 79 
 
 current which is bearing me onward to eternity. I may 
 watch the morning vapor as it lazily hangs around the moun- 
 tain's side, and see its multiform evolutions as it rises and 
 circles around the brow of the highest peak, and then instantly 
 vanisheth into thin air, and I behold in its short-lived move- 
 ments an emblem of human existence ; for it seems to echo 
 the question in its vanishing, " What is your life ? It is 
 even as a vapor, which appeareth for a little while and then 
 vanisheth away." I may watch the flying clouds ; and their 
 shadows, as they glide over the plain, say to me, " Man is a 
 shadow that continueth not." I bend over the drooping 
 flower, and it says, " Man that is born of woman is of few 
 days, and full of trouble ; he cometh forth like a flower, and 
 is cut down." And a thousand objects around me may utter 
 the same lessons ; but they fall not on my heart with that 
 tremendous force with which the grave of my departed 
 invests them. At the sepulchre of my friend I realize it 
 more than anywhere else, that I must die. My friend who 
 now slumbers in this tomb lived as I live, hoped as I hope, 
 and rejoiced as I rejoice. He was conscious of all those 
 emotions, whether pleasurable or painful, \\hich I now expe- 
 rience. He formed one of that busy, bustling crowd, as I do 
 this day. He was honorably known in the halls of legislation 
 — in the court — in the Senate — in the pulpit — in the walks of 
 business. He was prominent or humble — but he ivas a living 
 man. ]\Ien bowed to him in respectful recognition. His 
 name was carried to distant parts on his vessel, or to flu'-ofF 
 markets on his wares. His opinion was solicited in all great 
 
80 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 public movements ; and his judgment quoted in all im- 
 portant projects, as they might affect the civil and commercial 
 interests of the land. For years it was known through the 
 country that he did business on such a street, and at that 
 number. Tens of thousands read his name penciled in 
 golden letters on the sign. " But the places that knew him 
 shall know him no more." 
 
 Am I the head of a family ? So was he. For years was 
 he the strong staff which supported d numerous household. 
 A gentle wife greeted him on the evening of each day, for 
 many years, on his return from the counting-house, the ofBce, 
 the farm, or the shop ; and sons and daughters showered 
 upon him their smiles, and delighted him with their affectionate 
 caresses. For such a long period did he give permanence 
 to the joy and happiness of that domestic circle, that its 
 members w^ere scarcely conscious that these blessings 
 belonged to the things that were transient. But the fatal day 
 came when they were roused from their dreams to behold 
 that all was vanity. The husband and the father can be so 
 no more, for he is stricken with death. 
 
 Do I sometimes join in innocent amusements and pleasures, 
 which lure us aside from the monotonous round of duties and 
 anxieties, and cause us to forget, for a few hours, the vexa- 
 tious cares and annoyances associated with our callings ? He 
 allowed himself the same relaxations; and moved as gaily as 
 any within that circle of enchanting scenes and pleasures. 
 But in the assemblies where his entrance produced an 
 involuntary thrill, and his presence drew a thousand sparkling 
 
LESSOXS T\'IIICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 81 
 
 eyes, he is no more seen, and his name is seklom, if ever, 
 uttered. He who had an ahiiost world-wide fame is now- 
 only remembered by a few loving hearts. He sleeps in the 
 lonely grave ; and but few of those who pass by take lime to 
 spell out his name upon the dim marble. 
 
 Am I known and loved in the sanctuary of God ? He, 
 too, was wont to mingle in the devotions of the assemblies 
 of saints. For many years his seat was seldom vacant, for 
 he was known as a pillar in the church. No interest of the 
 congregation did he allow to languish; no charity that did 
 not receive from him a cordial support. He filled the widow's 
 heart with music, and dried the iears of the orphan. He 
 responded to the call of the perishing, and sent on golden 
 winffs the news of salvation to the far-off heathen. And 
 because he wrought long and well in the vineyard of the 
 Lord, he was a pattern of good works. But it was only for 
 the day of life that the Master had hired him ; and when the 
 shades of evening came, he was called up to receive his 
 reward. Here at his grave all his life is re-enacted before 
 my mind; and as the drama closes in this tomb, Lfeel that 
 this is the end of man — this the goal of his earthly existence. 
 
 My friend died. He who moved in the same circle in 
 which I move, held the same relations to the family and to 
 the world which I hold, he is gone to the house appointed for 
 all the living. That sun which now shines upon his grave, 
 and those stars which now rise upon his lowly abode — all 
 nature — the earth, and the spangled heavens upon which I 
 now look, were contemplated and admired by him as I now 
 
82 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 admire them. But here he sleeps, "while they roll on and 
 shine ; and so, too, shall I slumber underneath the sod, 
 ^Yhile iheir rays fall silently around my mouldering dust. 
 
 Aye, my departed one once stood with me at this spot, and 
 thought and felt as I do now as he looked upon the graves 
 of others ; but sickness came — death came— and the funeral 
 obsequies ; and here now he reposes until waked by the voice 
 of the Son of God. Mortal — all are mortal; I will not 
 thrust you from my mind, ye thoughts of my frailty, for ye 
 are messengers come from heaven's high throne, to assist in 
 binding ray fleeting life to that which is immutable and 
 eternal. I know, I feel, I too must die! True, this world is 
 bright and beautiful, and it wearies me not ; health flows 
 through my veins and glows in my cheek ; strength nerves 
 my arm, and strong are the pulsations of my heart ; my 
 business, my family, and the many objects which I wish to 
 accomplish, do press and clamor for death's delay; but he, 
 the inexorable King of Terror, heeds not their voice, but 
 disdains their entreaties. Death is coming ; he has been 
 approaching me year by year, and day by day. The passing 
 hours, and minutes, and seconds, tell me as they fly that he 
 is coming nearer. With an eagle's eye he holds me in view, 
 and with a lion's heart he follows upon my path ; in the city 
 or in the forest, by land or by sea, by night and by day, he 
 never falters nor wearies ! ! yes, I feel it as I gaze upon 
 yonder setting sun, that I have one day less — and now 
 that gorgeous glow upon the mountain top vanishes, and 
 dies away in the starlight heavens — yes, one hour less to live, 
 
LESSONS AVIIICII THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 83 
 
 since I came to this tomb to commune with the dead. Yes, 
 my last sickness will come — my physician will be calm and 
 silent, he will breathe no word of hope — my wife and 
 children will weep around my bed — and I will see the shadow 
 of him who has so long pursued me fall upon my path — and 
 I shall feel his skeleton hands clutch my heart-strings, while 
 his icy embrace freezes my blood, and the tide of life stands 
 still ! All still — only the sobs of weeping loved ones will 
 echo through that chamber where I bowed to the bidding: of 
 death. Cold and insensible shall I lie, while the last vigils 
 of friendship shall be kept for the last night that I shall ever 
 spend in my long and fondly-cherished home. And the 
 morning light of another day will break, but I shall not 
 welcome the rosy morn. The chirpings of the swallow and 
 notes of the robin, that so often waked me to join in their 
 song of praise, will not ravish my ears. The beautiful land- 
 scape, over which my eyes wandered with so much delight in 
 early morn, will not be surveyed by me. Friends will gather 
 around me, and draw aside the curtains to let in the light 
 of day, that they may look upon my face, but I will not know 
 it. They will caress and kiss the lifeless form, but my heart 
 shall not thrill under the pressure of affection's hand, nor my 
 lips throw back the glow of friendship's kiss. No, I shall be 
 dead! They will shroud me for my burial, but I shall not 
 behold my white apparel. They will lay me in the coffin, 
 and I shall offer no resistance. Many familiar friends will 
 gaze upon me there, but I shall not return their look. And 
 those whom I most loved will give their last long look, and 
 
84 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IxMPARTS. 
 
 I am- shut out from the world in which I Hved and moved. 
 Gently is the lid laid over my face and screwed fast. Neigh- 
 bors and friends are gathered, and I am carried out of my 
 house never more to return. Even my name will pass from 
 it, and strangers will dwell there. The funeral cortege will 
 move away from those ancient trees, and over that familiar 
 road to the sepulchres of my fathers. And there they will 
 lay me in the grave, as they did my friend by whose tomb 
 I write. And the man of God will utter the solemn 
 but hopeful words, " We commit this body to the ground — 
 earth to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust — in hope 
 of the general resurrection and the life of the world to 
 come." 
 
 And, having performed this last sad office, they will return 
 to their homes and leave me. I shall be alone in the grave ; 
 alone shall I slumber. I shall no more speak. Strangers 
 will read my brief history, Avhich the hand of friendship may 
 chronicle upon the marble, and then turn away wdth a sigh, 
 aftd say, such is the end of man. Those in whose memories 
 I may live will often come to strew flowers upon my grave 
 and drop a tear of affection. They will plant the rose, the 
 lily, and the evergreen, as emblems of a fragrant and beauti- 
 ful immortality which they assign me in the Paradise of God. 
 All this will take place with me — yes, all may say with me. 
 Ah! it is a solemn thought, that every step brings us nearer 
 to our enemy; a solemn thought that there is but one 
 passage to eternity, and that lies through " death's iron gate." 
 For— 
 
LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 85 
 
 " Sure 'tis a serious thing to die, mj^ soul ! 
 What a strange mouieat must it be, ■when near 
 Thy journey's end thoU hast the gulf in view ! 
 That awful gulf no mortal e'er repass'd, 
 To tell what's doing on the other side ! 
 Kature runs back and shudders at the sight, 
 And every life-string bleeds at thought of parting." 
 
 Yes, the moment of death is one of thrilUng solemnity ; 
 yet all must meet it, for "there is a time to die." But, 
 blessed be God, he can arm us with that moral preparation 
 which will carry us triumphantly through the last conflict, and 
 enable us to echo back from the valley of the shadow of 
 death, for the encouragement of the living, " grave! where 
 is thy victory ? death ! where is thy sting ? The sting of 
 death is sin ; and the strength of sin is the law. But, thanks 
 be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." The Christian knows that the grave is the home of 
 the earthly, the bosom of God of the spiritual. For, as all 
 material things are in motion, and will only rest when they 
 find their appropriate centre, so the spirit which lives within 
 us will only rest when borne to the bosom of Him who 
 formed it. As the vapor that is lifted from the bosom of the 
 sea never pauses until it has performed its mission and 
 returned to its parent, so the soul finds true repose only after 
 it has as faithfully performed its work, and, by the force of 
 that spiritual law which is designed to govern it, it is drawn 
 up to God. There it shall live forever. And, as I look upon 
 this wasting world and upon my decaying frame, I rejoice 
 
86 LESSONS WHICH THE SEPULCHRE IMPARTS. 
 
 in the consciousness that I shall live when the heavens and 
 the earth are no more, 
 
 " My spirit shall return to Him 
 
 That gave its heavenly spark ; 
 Yet think not, sun, it shall be dim, 
 
 When thou thyself art dark ! 
 No ! it shall live again, and shine 
 In bliss unknown to beams of thine ; 
 
 By Him recalled to breath, 
 Who captive led captivity, 
 Who robbed the grave of victory, 
 
 And took the sting from death !" 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 " Our glories float between the eartli and heaven, 
 Like clouds that seem pavilions of the sun, 
 And are the iilaythings of the casual winds." 
 
 At the end of life's journey stands the open sepulchre to 
 receive us, and to enclose all of man that is material and 
 shadowy. Only that which is spiritual, that has emanated 
 from us, will not go down into its darkness. As inquirers 
 after the real and not imaginary worth of the things around 
 us, we must not forget the true stand-point from which to 
 survey them ; for, the position we occupy, and the medium 
 through which we view objects, greatly influence the mind 
 in the conceptions which it forms of the real or supposed 
 character of those objects. When we look forward through 
 life we are liable to form an improper estimate of the value 
 of things; for, if we look through that medium of delusive 
 worth which the world has thrown around the objects of 
 human pursuit, then will we realize in our after experience 
 that the poet has truly sung — 
 
 " Distance lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 (87) 
 
88 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 Bui svhat sad mistakes do those make who contemplate 
 life from such a point, that everything appears in a reversed 
 character, and in a magnified light. To the untaught eye 
 the glow-worm is larger and more resplendent than the orb 
 which wheels in cloudless majesty far out in immensity, and 
 which appears to the untutored observer as a feebly-burning 
 taper. And equally false are the notions which men some- 
 times form of what is, or is not, desirable, permanent, or of 
 intrinsic value, when deciding as to the objects of their 
 pursuit, or the ends for which they propose to live and to 
 toil. The unsanctified mind is restless; ^finding no elements 
 of solid peace within itself, it seeks beyond and without 
 itself the sources of that haijpiness for which it yearns. And 
 in these efTorts it may, after repeated exertions, form for 
 itself a paradise in the future, and clothe it with such an 
 aspect of loveliness, and people it with such objects as a 
 morbid fancy may suggest as needful accompaniments of an 
 earthly Eden. And if an indulgent Providence permits man 
 to reach the designated post of honor, or that state of affluence 
 which he had pictured in such lively colors — if a few whirl- 
 ing years have thrown him upon that sunny eminence that 
 flashed so long and brilliantly to his eye, in the conscious 
 possession of that of which he had dreamed, and which he 
 had coveted, there is a momentary gush of joy that sheds 
 its exhilarating influence over his soul — but it is not perma- 
 nent ; for, he has scarcely tasted the enjoyments of his new 
 position before they are exhausted, or cease to afford delight. 
 No sooner has he surveyed that high station for which he had 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 89 
 
 toiled so anxiously and long, than he finds it a weariness and 
 vexation ; because the responsibilities and cares which are its 
 inevitable appendages, diminish the glory and dispel the 
 charm which spell-bound his spirit for years ; for, all that 
 earth can give is doomed to bear thorns. 
 
 Far safer is it, and infinitely wiser is he, who goes in 
 thought to the end of life's race and looks back to its begin- 
 ning ; examines the history of others, and studies the character 
 and value of things by the testimony of those whose experience 
 enabled them to form a proper estimate of earthly things, and 
 to pronounce a just verdict upon them. For, although the 
 , sepulchre seems gloomy and silent, yet does it shed light 
 upon things otherwise dark, because all its utterances are wise 
 and truthful. Let us then stand together in the presence of 
 this calm and solemn monitor, and listen to his voice as he 
 speaks of the transient nature of all things. As a messenger 
 of God, he announces far more solemnly and impressively 
 than any other preacher, that "All flesh is grass, and the 
 glory of man as the flower of the grass. The grass withereth, 
 the flower fadeth because the spirit of the Lord bloweth 
 upon it." 
 
 And, as we have already heard his lesson concerning the 
 end of all the living, let us now hear him on the glory of 
 man. Beautiful and fragrant is the flower, but it falleth to 
 the earth and withereth ; and so short-lived and perishable a 
 thing is often the glory of man. But what is the glory of 
 man ? Doubtless, that upon which he sets the highest value, 
 8* 
 
90 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 and which constitutes his felicity. That to which all his 
 thoughts tend, that for which his heart pulsates, and around 
 Avhich his holiest affections cluster. Whatever that may be, 
 it constitutes Ms glory. He glories in its pursuit, and rejoices 
 in its possession ; but it is obvious that, in a world made up 
 of beings so various in their temperaments, so different in 
 their pursuits, so unlike in their circumstances, and so diverse 
 in their tastes, it is not the same thing with all. But 
 whatever this glory of man may be, it is the paradise which 
 he has formed and beautified with fountains and brooks, and 
 flowers and music — all for himself. There he lives 
 and loves ; there he offers his orisons and vespers ; and it is to 
 him what the light is to the sun, or beauty to the landscape — 
 his glory. It varies, however, with constitutional organiza- 
 tion, and is influenced and modified by the position and 
 calling of the individual. 
 
 There are those who may be properly styled domestic in 
 their feelings, habits, and enjoyments. Their pleasures 
 are chiefly found within the little home circle, and, therefore, 
 their exertions are mostly directed to such additions and 
 such improvements, in all that lies within that sphere, as will 
 increase their delight. Fondly do parents cherish that 
 o-roup of sprightly children which daily encircle them. They 
 leave ro means untried, and neglect no opportunities to 
 promote the intellectual and social culture of iheir ofTspring. 
 And no stranger knows the emotions of pleasure with which 
 parents contemplate their expanding forms and unfolding 
 
THE GLORY OF MAX. 91 
 
 minds. And after they have made the necessary attain- 
 ments in ust'tul and ornamental knowledge to fit them for 
 the social circle, they are conscious of a lofty pride when 
 they behold their children stepping forth into society, and 
 by their many obvious accomplishments, attracting the 
 admiring eyes of the multitude. They glory in them as so 
 many new attractions to that family, honorably known and 
 respected for generations. And there are perhaps few things 
 of a temporal character in which man may more rationally 
 glory than in a well-regulated family. For, as an institution, 
 it is certainly designed and eminently fitted to promote our 
 happiness ; and, under judicious management, it may be 
 productive of untold blessings to all its members. There, 
 hearts beat in unison and spirits intimately blend. There, 
 there is a transfusion of sympathy and love from one to the 
 other. 
 
 " There blend the ties that strengthen 
 Onr hearts in hours of grief, 
 The silver links that lengthen 
 Joy's visits when most brief." 
 
 It is the best part that is left us of Eden — it is a type of 
 heaven ; and we do not wonder that the heart should exult 
 amid the scenes and enjoyments of that home which is 
 unblighted, where none has drooped, where no shadow has 
 yet fallen, no note of sorrow has yet been uttered, but where 
 all is bright and vocal with merry voices. But how suddenly 
 are such scenes changed! Over that circle of fond and 
 
92 THE GLOUY OF MAN. 
 
 loving hearts there poises the dark angel, and shakes from 
 his plumes the elements of disease, and they fall as the 
 mildew upon the blossom. The fairest and strongest is 
 bowed under sickness, and in a few days droops and dies. 
 And another, and another, until there is nothing left but a 
 few broken hearts, weeping over the memories of other days ; 
 the sad memorials of the truth that the glory of man is as 
 the flower of the grass. 
 
 And ! what solemn lessons does the sepulchre utter of 
 some such family scenes. Perhaps it tells us of the beautiful 
 daughter, or the noble son, whose fond but mistaken parents 
 displayed more taste in the decorations of the casket, than 
 care in burnishing the priceless jewel which it contained ; 
 and who were determined that their child should dazzle in 
 society, but labored not to make it shine in heaven. And 
 now that the flower has dropped from the parent stem, the 
 aroma of a virtuous and holy life in the lost one, which is the 
 only balm that heals the wounded spirit, does not soothe their 
 bereaved hearts. For, not only has their glory faded, but no 
 hope cheers them, that the spirit of that fair form which they 
 laid in the tomb has risen to the companionship of the holy 
 around the throne of God. 
 
 There are others who glory in pleasure ; that say to their 
 hearts, " Go to, now, I will prove thee with mirth ;" and to 
 scenes of gaiety and mirth they hasten. The votaries of 
 pleasure and of fashion, they will gather what sweets may be 
 thouo-ht to exist in a life of frivolity. They are decked out 
 in costly apparel. The world is laid under tribute, and the 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 93 
 
 toil of many nations is pressed into the business of attiring 
 such for the drawing-room, the theatre, or the levee. And 
 they have a butterfly's glory while they flutter and dazzle in 
 (he blaze of jewels. But alas! how often do the frequenters 
 of those scenes, and the lovers of these enjoyments find, that 
 such a life is destitute of solid peace, and at best nothing 
 but an empty show ; for, underneath those gems that sparkle. 
 on the snowy brow there live dark, corroding thoughts ; and 
 beneath that richly-ornamented satin there may lie a broken 
 heart ; and, while that outward structure of clay is beautified 
 to such a degree that it might be mistaken for an angel's 
 abode, the inhabitant may scorn and loathe these vile 
 trappings of earth as unbefitting its nature and destiny. Had 
 we the power of drawing a truthful testimony from one and 
 all of the multitudes of those who glory in such scenes, they 
 would with one accord corroborate the declarations of 
 Solomon concerning a life of pleasure, and say, " that it is 
 vanity and vexation of spirit." " We might ask the brilliant 
 courtier, and Lord Chesterfield v.-ould tell us, I have enjoyed 
 all the pleasures of the world, and I do not regret their loss. 
 I have been behind the scenes ; I have seen all the coarse 
 pulleys and dirty ropes which move the gaudy machines ; 
 and I have seen and smelt the tallow candies which illumi- 
 nate the whole decorations to the astonishment of an ignorant 
 audience." "We might ask the world's poet, and we 
 Vv'ould be answered by an imprecation, by that splendid 
 genius who," 
 
94 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 " Drank evei-y cup of joy, heard every trump 
 Of fame ; drauk early, deeply drank, drank draughts, 
 That common millions might have quenched, then died 
 Of thirst, because there was no more to drink." 
 
 But, though we should have the testimony of all who ever 
 gloried in pleasure as to its worthless and fading character, 
 none could so well instruct us as the sepulchre. All that 
 glitter is here extinguished ; and all the pride and pomp of 
 earth go down into its darkness. It has received the sport- 
 ing youth and the thoughtless m.aiden ; the wit and the 
 buffoon ; the lordly worldhng and the haughty matron ; and 
 the duration of their glory stretched through a few vexatious 
 years, and then sank into a gloom which the ages of eternity 
 will not break. 
 
 There are those, also, who glory in wealth. Many use 
 this world so as to abuse it. They know not the only true 
 value of wealth; and are ignorant of the objects God designed 
 to be promoted, and the ends to be accomplished, by 
 its bestowal. Instead of appropriating it in a manner so as 
 to produce lasting excellence, many rejoice in its glitter, and 
 call that its glory. As everything is beautiful in its time and 
 in its place, so everything has an excellence peculiar to itself. 
 There is a glory in the sun which rolls in the firmament 
 above, and there is a glory in wealth. But as yonder sun 
 would not glow to the eyes of admiring millions, nor wreathe 
 nature in smiles, and cover the earth with golden harvests, 
 did he retain his rays within his bosom, thus wealth has no 
 glory so long as it lies in iron coffers, or is held under the 
 hard pressure of the miser's grasp, or is used to feed the 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 95 
 
 pride and passions of man. It must go out on its ordained 
 mission, and wake a world of misery into life and joy ; breathing 
 hope into the desponding, clothing the naked, feeding the 
 hungry, and beautifying sin-stricken humanity with its benefac- 
 tions — then is wealth glorious. The hand of affluence may sow 
 fields which will require many angels to gather, when Christ 
 comes on his great white throne to reap the earth. The 
 rich have great responsibilities, 'which are inherited with their 
 wealth, and many feel them. It is a fearful trust to which 
 they are called ; for, as stewards of the great Jehovah, their 
 accounts will be examined at the bar of the final day, and 
 their disbursements approbated or condemned. He who 
 fortunately or unfortunately commands millions, should have 
 more than human wisdom to direct him in their management 
 and use, that they may yield him a harvest of glory. When 
 God gives such mental capacities to an individual, that his 
 intellectual furniture fits him to legislate, or to command in 
 the field — to rule on a throne, or to send forth from 
 the retirement of the study offsprings of his mind which 
 mould the character of thousands, sending out an influence 
 which has powder to mar with stains of vice, or jewel with 
 virtues the character of immortal beings — all acknowledge 
 that he has a fearful mission, which is destined to issue 
 in a glorious or terrible future. To prostitute such talents 
 to the cause of vice, is to use immortal treasures to 
 buy immortal woes ; for he who flings with a vile hand the 
 coin imaged with the King of Kings into the dust, must 
 agonize under purchased wrath. But is not wealth a gift of 
 
96 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 God under another form? Do we not rightly baptize it 
 talent ? Is it not thus called by Him who has bestowed it ? 
 Aye, a talent which is to be used to promote the sovereign's 
 honor, and thus insure the subject's glory. 
 
 If, then, we would have the true glory of wealth, we 
 should be God's almoners — his stewards and agents, wisely 
 managing and funding our treasures, tliat, in common with 
 the other divinely-ordained instrumentalities, they may con- 
 tribute to the elevation of mankind, to the diffusion of light, 
 and the covering of the earth with the knowledge of salva- 
 tion. We would not condemn any lawful use of wealth. 
 We believe it designed to minister to the comfort of its 
 possessor and of his family ; and if that requires it, or 
 if it will promote their ha])piness and not inflict an injury, he 
 may employ it to construct elegant mansions, and ornament 
 them in princely style. He may have his spacious gardens 
 and parks, and probably many other things which may be 
 regarded as needful appendages of the wealthy and great ; 
 for all these expenditures will promote industry, and give 
 food and raiment to the worthy laborer. But if he would have 
 large and durable comfort, he must suffer the streams of 
 his affluence to roll beyond the domestic circle, beyond 
 his gardens and his parks, and carry their blessings over 
 the wide fields of our afflicted race ; — that by those 
 streams there may grow the tree of knowledge, of whose 
 fruit the poor may eat — and the tree of life, which 
 yields immortal nourishment, and whose leaves are for the 
 healing of the nations. All this the affluent can do, by en- 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 97 
 
 flowing institutions of learning, and by enriching with their 
 benefactions associations instituted for the spread of the 
 Gospel. The cause of Missions, Domestic and Foreign — 
 the cause of Education — the Bible — the Tract, and many 
 other Christian Unions, are mediums through which he can 
 diffuse his benefactions ; and then will the true glory of 
 wealth become visible, when it makes the earth radiant with 
 the blessings and hopes of Christianity. The children of this 
 world are pronounced wise because they keep their capital 
 working, and multiplying as it works. And it is the same 
 principle, only extended a little farther in its bearings, which 
 controls the action of the wealthy Christian. ! yes, 
 immortal ages will bear witness that this is the true glory of 
 wealth — when it is made to beautify eternal mansions, and to 
 augment the number of their occupants. To swell the 
 number of those who walk through the Paradise of God, who 
 rejoice along the river of life, and wake to endless praise the 
 harps of gold — this is a work of true glory. Let it then be 
 our glory, if blessed with wealth, to wake millions of heathen 
 voices in the eternal song. Would you not, if you could, in 
 the day of judgment, place a harp in the hand of that 
 degraded heathen and a crown of life upon his head, and 
 send him white-robed into the golden city to join in the song 
 of Moses and the Lamb ? And would you not then, amid 
 the throes of a dissolving universe, when the shrieks of the 
 lost and the crash of worlds shall send tremors through all 
 the framework of your spiiit, and you shall see eternity flash- 
 ing around you in all its tremendous realities, and revealing 
 9 
 
98 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 the worth of the soul and tlie av.ful price of its redemption, 
 ^\•Ollld you not then experience more pleasure in sending 
 one immortal soul into eternal life, than you would in the 
 enjoyment of unbounded wealth for ten thousand years? 
 And yet, that which you cannot do then you may do now. 
 For, behold the cry of the perishing comes from the habita- 
 tions of cruelty, and vibrates upon our ears ; and their 
 eternal destiny hangs upon thy will, ! affluent man. 
 
 But let us once more interrogate the sepulchre where we 
 stand in relation to the false and the true glory of wealth. 
 It tells us, that while it swallows up the empty glitter of the 
 worldling's grandeur, it claims not, it destroys not, the 
 abiding glory of wealth ; for that belongs to heaven, and is 
 immortal. It will live and shine forever in the objects whom 
 it lifted out of the depths of sin, and lighted to the mansions 
 on high. But behold the tomb where sleeps the man, 
 the philosophy of whose life was that of Epicurus, and see 
 how his glory is turned into shame. The owner of many 
 broad acres has but an equal space with his servant whereon 
 to repose his death-stricken limbs ; and the former occupant 
 of a princely mansion is now the inmate of the narrow grave. 
 And although his body reposes in the dust, his soul finds 
 not its home in heaven. But he who lived according to the 
 rules of Christ has a green memory on earth, while his spirit 
 rejoices in the palace of God. 
 
 " A man," says Jeremy Taylor, " may read a sermon, the 
 best and most pathetic ever man preached, if he shall but 
 enter the sepulchres of kings. In the same Escurial where 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 99 
 
 the Spanish princes live in greatness and power, and decref 
 war or peace, they have wisely placed a cemetery, where 
 their ashes and their glory shall sleep till time shall be 
 no more ; and where our kings have been crowned their 
 ancestors lie interred — and they must walk over their grand- 
 sires' heads to take the crown. There is an acre sown with 
 royal seed, the copy of the greatest change from rich to naked, 
 from ceiled roofs to arched coffins, from living like gods to 
 die like men. There is enough to cool the flames of lust, to 
 abate the heights of pride, to appease the itch of covetous 
 desires, to sully and dash out the dissembling colors of 
 a lustful, artificial, and imaginary beauty. There the warlike 
 and peaceful, the fortunate and the miserable, the beloved 
 and the despised princes mingle their dust, and pay down 
 their symbol of mortality, and tell all the world that when we 
 die our ashes shall be equal to kings', and our accounts 
 easier, and our pains for our crowns shall be less." 
 
 Having considered human glory under three different 
 forms — that of the family, of pleasure, and of wealth — it 
 remains yet for us to ask of the sepulchre as to the glory of fame. 
 It is true that the glory of man appears under many other forms ; 
 for, as the desire is innate and universal, so will it evolve itself 
 under a countless variety of aspects. Man is born for glory, 
 and if he finds not that which is real and substantial he 
 grasps its shadow. For, as the visible creations of Jehovah 
 are only manifestations or embodiments of-4hose beauti- 
 ful and grand conceptions which reposed in the Divine mind 
 from all eternity, until externalized in the works of His 
 
100 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 power, so, in the human mind, those objects in which man 
 glories lie in undeveloped desires, until outwardly manifested 
 in the object of his choice. The conception of that which he 
 prefers lies deep within his soul, whether it is low or exalted, 
 and, according as its character may be, so will be the form 
 which his glory assumes. But it is not necessary to enume- 
 rate any others, since we have a fair exhibition of it under 
 these several heads ; indeed, its character and perishable- 
 ness may be seen wherever and in whatever outward 
 manifestations it may produce itself. But let us consider it 
 for a moment under the last-mentioned form. That all men 
 desire fame is as evident as the fact that all men breathe. It 
 is an essential property in human nature ; and the mind 
 destitute of it would lack one of its prime elements, and be 
 like the eagle without his wings, or the lion without his 
 strength. But for it, none would rise to respectable stand- 
 ing, much less soar to that elevation where the range of 
 intellectual vision is widest, and the eye of science darts its 
 rapid glances over the immense fields of knowledge. Its 
 early motions are witnessed in the little child, whose first 
 essays at play or study are accompanied with a quick glance 
 at the mother for a smile of approbation. And from the 
 humble position of the little prattler by ray knee, up to the 
 loftiest pinnacle of fame where man has inscribed his name, 
 there beats not a heart between these two extremes that longs 
 not for approbation, and that loves not the music of human 
 applause. Persons covet admiration, whether it is accorded 
 for the setting out of a good dinner, or doing a useful job of 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 101 
 
 work, or successfully marshalling and leading to victory the 
 steel-bristling army, or the brilliant achievements in legislation 
 and diplomacy. All love glory ia this form, and loving, 
 pursue it. But although there is this universality of desire 
 for the esteem of others, and this unquenchable thirst for 
 glory, we should not forget that there is a dilTerence in kind ; 
 we should always recognize the distinction between the 
 human and the spiritual. Human glory will perish because 
 it is human; the spiritual will endure because it is divine. 
 And while the desire is indestructible, because a part of the 
 mind, the glory which man reaps will be lasting or evanes- 
 cent as the character of the object from which it is derived 
 is frail or immutable. We are invited to glory in purity, in 
 virtue, and in God. " Let not the wise man glory in his 
 wisdom, nor the rich in his riches, but let him that glorieth, 
 glory in the Lord!" To glory in that which is durable and 
 good is everywhere enjoined in the gospel, and represented 
 as an object of legitimate pursuit. The joys of eternal 
 salvation are offered to those who by " persevering in well- 
 doing seek for honor, glory, and immortality." But this is 
 different from that empty fame which originates with man 
 and terminates in the tomb. The military hero whose chief 
 end is to exalt himself and immortalize his name, is graspino- 
 at a shadow. He may bear himself proudly through scenes 
 of carnage, and the groans of the wounded and dying may 
 be the musical harbingers of those notes of applause ^^hich 
 will intoxicate his brain on his return from the successful 
 9* 
 
102 THE GLORY OF MAI^. 
 
 campaign. He may succeed in getting a place on the 
 historic page, and in filling the world with his fame, and pass 
 from height to height \intil he has risen to the summit of 
 imperial rule ; but if his aims have no higher origin or 
 tendency than self, he will, meteor-like, dazzle and blaze for 
 a moment and then leave the world in thicker gloom. 
 Those sounds of applause may exhilarate his spirits while 
 riding in triumph on a wave of fortune, but when washed 
 by an adverse billow on some lonely St. Helena, to die a 
 broken-hearted prisoner, his glory, like a beautiful bubble, 
 bursts and vanishes into thin air, and on his tomb it is written, 
 " Thus passeth the glory of the world." And ! how does 
 the well-earned fame of the great diminish in real worth when 
 the shadows of the sepulchre fall around them ! If the man 
 of genius, of letters, or philosophy, has sought glory from 
 men more than from God, what avails it that he is loaded 
 with chaplets and wreathed with laurels, bound upon his brow 
 by manly hands, and decorated with mementoes of woman's 
 love! how empty and worthless do all appear as he comes 
 to the open grave ! Can these earthly honors soothe him in 
 the dying strife? Can the recollection of days spent amid 
 luxurious scenes, and in brilliant circles, still one throb of 
 anffuish ? Can all the distinctions of a successful career 
 shed one gleam of light into the dark valley ? Can golden 
 honors unbar the gates of paradise, that his race may be yet 
 more brilliant and glorious? Ah! no. If he has only sought 
 the praise of man, and undervalued the praise of God, all 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 103 
 
 that he hath is worthless, and his glory, which the thoughtless 
 envied, is like the autumnal flower, which blooms a few hours 
 and then falls to the earth, and its leaves no one gathers. 
 And such is the glory which crowns the lives of all the 
 illustrious, that in whatever sphere they may move, or whatever 
 they may achieve for their country's honor, or the church's 
 interest ; all that is earthly will perish, and only that which 
 links itself with God will abide, bright and beautiful, forever. 
 Such then is the glory of man — frail, short-lived, and transient 
 — vanishing like the beauties of the rainbow — evanescent as 
 the gorgeous glow of the evening cloud — passing away like 
 s\\:eet melodies on the dying breeze. 
 
 But there is true and lasting glory in all the forms which 
 we have considered, provided our aims and purposes in all 
 the relations of life contemplate the honor of God and the 
 good of man. Let us then glory in God, and, with Paul, in 
 the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. For if we make that the 
 centre of our affections, and the shrine whither we bring and 
 lay all our crowns of joy, then those distinctions and honors 
 which we may receive from this world will be baptized by 
 the blood of the cross with a fadeless immortality, seeing that 
 all are made tributary to the divine glory. Thus we may have 
 a legitimate glory in usefulness and goodness ; and, because it 
 springs from God, it claims a lifetime with the Eternal. 
 And should these pages fall under the eye of one whose sad 
 experience has taught him the vanity of that glory which 
 comes not from God — who has been drawn far into the 
 
104 THE GLORY OF MAN. 
 
 paths of corruption, and has sullied his immortal spirit to 
 such a degree that the dark shadows of despair chill every 
 feeble purpose to rise to an elevation of purity and hope, so 
 that in view of his frequent failures he yields to the 
 current of passion as the fatigued mariner gives way to the 
 opposing tide that bears him to the fearful gulf — let him not 
 yield to despondency. 
 
 " Cast not the clouded gem away, 
 Quench not the dim but living ray ; — 
 My brother man, beware ! 
 AVith that deep voice which from the skies, 
 Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice, 
 God's angel cries forbear." 
 
 Rise again and link your next purpose of good with the 
 hand that was pierced on Calvary, and it will raise you to 
 His fellowship and glory. And if animated by His spirit, 
 whose glory was in going about and doing good, and our 
 hearts are pervaded by his love, then will the outflows of our 
 being be like streams in a desert land, waking sweet melo- 
 dies where'er they flow. For the love of Christ will 
 constrain us to live a life of charity ; and true godliness, and 
 practical benevolence form the highest glory of man. 
 
 " See the lone wand'rer 'mid the wastes of death 
 Rejoicing, hails the Alpine blossom's breath, 
 As shuddering at the glacier's awful power, 
 He seeks the beauty of the meek-eyed flower. 
 And there reposes in a steadfast trust. 
 That on the pkant no avalanche storm will burst. 
 What kindles thus his faith and calms his fears? 
 The seal of love and hope the blossom bears ; 
 
THE GLORY OF MAN. 105 
 
 Tho' round liira heave a Jark and frozen flood, 
 
 One thought is peace — is safety, "God is good;" 
 
 Nor could the wand'rer idly turn away ; 
 
 His lip might move not, but his heart would pray ; 
 
 And he would gather in that musing hour, 
 
 Amid those trophies of Jehovah's power. 
 
 New strength of soul, a grander scope of thought: 
 
 His mind to nobler purpose would be wrought, 
 
 And feel and own, in this calm, solemn mood, 
 
 That 'tis man's highest ghry to he good." 
 
CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 
 IN THE SEPULCHRE THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 
 
 Tbither the pooi', the pris'ner, and the mourner, 
 Fly for relief, and lay tbeii* burdens down." 
 
 "Weep not for him who dieth, 
 For he sleeps and is at rest ; 
 And the couch on Tfhich he lieth, 
 Is the green earth's quiet breast." 
 
 Within the compass of human life there are crowded 
 immense interests. Upon this theatre are results wrought 
 out, which will be contemplated with complacency or 
 remorse through a long eternity. Here each one builds for 
 himself a character which will give a passport to a miserable 
 or glorious future ; fashioning a name that will be fragrant 
 or offensive in heaven and on earth, while it will constitute 
 a tower of strength in which those may shelter who are 
 impressible by his example, or a pile of ruins which will 
 bury golden immortal hopes for all who are corrupted by his 
 influence. And limited as the sphere may seem which our 
 vision spans, there are forces acting within that circle whose 
 vibrations thrill far into eternity. Here all act — all are in 
 motion ; some in the pursuit of substantial good, others 
 
 (106) 
 
IN THE SEPULCHRE, ETC. 107 
 
 chasing phantoms. We are in the midst of a scene of 
 incessant activity. There can be no quiet, no peace, no rest 
 here, for it is on the great arena of hfe that the earthly and 
 the spiritual, the human and divine, are waging their hard 
 conflicts. Activity is a law which controls all things, or 
 rather the manifest result of those hidden forces which reside 
 in all created objects. And wisely has it been ordained that 
 it should be so. For it is the ceaseless roll of the ocean 
 that makes it a fountain of health, and the vibration of the 
 atmosphere which fits it to sustain life and invigorate the 
 frame. Our forests are robed in their beautiful dress ; our 
 hills and valleys smile; our fields wave with golden harvests; 
 and the world is full of life and joy, because the heavens and 
 the earth — yea, all things are in motion. 
 
 And while much of the activity in human society aims not 
 at the accomplishment of good, but is in direct conflict with 
 the laws of man's being and the rule of heaven, yet is it 
 well that God has made the mind of man restless, and 
 accorded to it liberty of choice. Even if there were a dis- 
 position for inactivity, there is no place for indolence nor 
 repose between the cradle and the grave. For each day 
 brings its cares and its toils. Life is a river, which is only 
 beautiful and refreshing while it flows. It is a voyage over 
 heaving billows, Avhich forbids us to pause — a warfare 
 which will not allow us to ungird our armor until the final 
 victory is achieved. But here, at the sepulchre, all our toils 
 and conflicts end. Here the river has found the ocean — 
 the racer has reached the goal — the mariner has gained the 
 
108 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 haven — and the soldier has won his last triumph. All toil 
 ends here. And 0, what multitudes are doomed through 
 long years to eke out a scanty subsistence. For while a few 
 in some measure escape the decree, " in the sweat of thy 
 face shalt thou eat thy bread," the masses are conscious 
 that it has fallen upon them with painful severity. Behold 
 the numbers who toil in our cities from early dawn till 
 late in the night : if the compensation was such as to 
 afford them the needful comforts of life, the labor would be 
 cheerfully performed, for then it would bring its blessings. 
 But there is the poor widow with her helpless babes, and her 
 heart laboring with heavy woes ; she feels no responsive 
 throb from all those livinjr hearts that beat through that jireat 
 city. She is alone with her helpless ones. Patiently she 
 plies her needle until her fingers bleed. Often is she 
 tempted to seek a little rest, for the night is far advanced, 
 and nature clamors for repose ; but her eye falls upon that 
 pallet of straw where sleep her children with only a few 
 tatters to shield their tender limbs from the piercing cold, and 
 the thought of their cries for bread in the morning goes like 
 an iron into her soul, and excites her to another effort. She 
 rallies her exhausted strength and toils on, cheered with the 
 hope that even for misery and poverty there will one day be 
 sweet repose in the grave. Wearily and heavily do those 
 nights roll on ; and through all her days she is cheered by no 
 smile, encouraged by no sympathising look; for rough words 
 and a haughty bearing accompany the small pittance doled 
 out bv her iron-hearted oppressor for that work which is 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 109 
 
 impregnate with the strength of her soul and the blood of 
 her heart, and baptized with the widow's and the orphan's 
 tears. And with unfailing confidence in the wisdom and 
 goodness of an overruling Providence, she continues faithful 
 to her charge, until He, under whose eye she toiled, and to 
 whose throne she looked, and in whose promises she trusted, 
 says it is enough, and sends his angels to bring that care- 
 worn spirit from that humble dwelling to the palace of God. 
 And what a spectacle would oppress the mind could we 
 penetrate those gloomy mines, where thousands are born, and 
 live and die, and who associate nothing bright or pleasant 
 with life, for they know it only in its toils and tears. Look 
 where we will — in the shop or the counting-house, on the 
 field or in the study — everywhere are arms in motion and 
 hearts palpitating under hard pressures. All these shall find 
 repose in the peaceful tomb. All care and all business will 
 end there. There will be felt no more fears and anxieties 
 about the success of this enterprise or that speculation, the 
 safety of this investment or that outlay. No more pressures 
 to cloud the mind and weigh dow^n the spirits, and to annoy 
 and make unhappy a whole family. In the tomb there are 
 no more transactions to test the shrewdness and skill of 
 competitors in trade. There the husbandman, who long and 
 faithfully tilled the soil, under whose cultivating hand the 
 wilderness was displaced by fields of waving grain, whose 
 industry brought nourishment from the earth for hungry 
 millions, and who for many years stood by the storehouse of 
 Nature and dealt out bread to the needy, at last finds a quiet 
 10 
 
110 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 retreat. Often, as he watclied the revolving earth when it 
 rolled up garnished with countless beautiful things which had 
 risen from their winter's grave and filled the world with 
 fragrance, he had pictured to his mind the prospect of those 
 who go down into the tomb with the assurances of hope ; and 
 he gladly toiled on until death bid him rest from his labors. 
 
 And there, too, sleeps sweetly the man of honest and hard 
 labor. There is one whom I often saw coming forth from 
 his cottage in the early blush of morning, and threading his 
 way through fields and woods until he reached the scene of 
 his daily work. And manfully did he bend to toil under a 
 scorching sun, animated with thoughts of home and the 
 prospect of the evening which would bring him to his neat 
 and quiet abode, where happy and cheerful hearts were 
 awaiting his return. One evening, as I was returning from 
 some pastoral visits, I observed him as he had given the last 
 stroke of the axe, and, as he laid it aside, it was with a 
 countenance beaming with satisfaction that he surveyed the 
 work he had accomplished ; with a grateful heart he 
 lifted up his thoughts to heaven, thankful to the great Father 
 for the health and strength he had aflforded, and then, with 
 a rapid step and a bounding heart, he turned his face home- 
 ward. Rapidly did the distance between him and his 
 home diminish. Long before he reached his cottage I saw 
 a group of sprightly children running to welcome their 
 beloved father ; for to children days seem like years: all at 
 once they grasped those manly hands which had grown 
 hard with toil, and, with the least one borne on his arm, and 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. ^ 111 
 
 escorted by the others, he entered his humble dwelling; and 
 there, under the caresses of those little ones and the smiles 
 of a gentle wife, he had a happiness which is but seldom 
 enjoyed by princes. I drew near to that family and was 
 kindly welcomed to the poor man's cottage. Our conversa- 
 tion soon turned upon the incidents of the day ; he spoke 
 of his labor and his condition with a cheerful spirit, and I 
 discovered that all shared his feelings. It was pleasant to go 
 there and learn how the grace of God can sustain and 
 comfort, and what a glow of peace and contentment it sheds 
 through humble life. For years was he given to imbroken 
 toil ; but the blessing of God was upon it, and the labor 
 of his hands was prospered ; his children were like trees 
 growing by the water-brooks of life, whose virtues were fresh 
 and visible ; and many pronounced them blessed. I knew 
 him long, and loved him well. But sickness came, and like 
 the oak whose bosom had been bared to many a storm, and 
 stood firm amid the shock of elements, at last bowed and 
 gently sank upon the lap of earth. I was called to his bed- 
 side, but only to see how a good man dies, and to be 
 strengthened by the lessons which flowed from his dying 
 lips. I had attended others through the struggles of the 
 final hour, and heard at other bedsides lamentations and fears 
 uttered for the wife and children, but from him I heard only 
 words of consolation and trust; and sweetly as if spoken out 
 of heaven did his dying prayer fall upon my ears. After he 
 had pressed an affectionate and hopeful farewell, he folded 
 his hands and lifted his eyes to heaven, and said, "0 1 
 
112 IN THE SEPULCnRE 
 
 my merciful and faithful God, I can toil no more for my 
 beloved ones ; but ' Thou art the Father of the fatherless, 
 and husband of the widow,' into Thy hands I commit them 
 and my spirit — Lord Jesus receive me — amen," and he 
 breathed no more. 
 
 " Sweet is the scene where Cbristians die. 
 
 Where holy souls retire to rest ; 
 How mildly beams the closing eye ! 
 
 How gently heaves the expiring breast ! 
 So fades a summer cloud away, 
 
 So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ; 
 So gently shuts the eye of day, 
 
 So dies a wave along the shore." 
 
 It was a beautiful morning in the latter end of May that 
 the neighbors gathered around that neat cottage, as by a 
 common impulse of sympathy for the bereaved and regard 
 for the dead. The rich and the poor, the young and the old 
 Avere there — for they all loved him. There is something 
 beautiful in a country funeral, where all classes and all ranks 
 meet and mingle to follow their neighbor and friend to the 
 grave. And many were the expressions of heartfelt sympathy 
 and regret as they looked upon his face for the last time. 
 And as God had given him a calm evening for his peaceful 
 death so had he ordered a beautiful day for his burial. The 
 one seemed emblematic of his brilliant end ; the other of his 
 blissful eternity. For on the evening I repaired to attend 
 him in his last moments, as I was approaching his house, 
 a dark mountain of clouds which had just poured their 
 tribute into the lap of the green earth, suddenly rose, and 
 suffered the sun to sink behind the horizon in his full-orbed 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 113 
 
 glory, while he threw a gorgeous glow upon the storm-clouds 
 which had a while obscured his brightness; a striking 
 emblem, thought I, as I came away from that house of 
 mourning, of the scene which had transpired within. Thus 
 also seemed that morning, on which we had assembled to 
 follow his remains to the tomb, prophetic of the glory amid 
 which his spirit rejoiced ; for the sun shone bright, and nature 
 was fresh and fragrant; all labor was suspended, and the 
 people neatly attired ; not the sound of a hammer nor a note 
 of the plough-boy was heard ; that universal quiet so soothing 
 to hearts smitten with grief reigned over the landscape, and 
 was only broken by the soft notes of a dove in a large willow 
 which shaded the cottage, and in whose spreading boughs 
 she had often made music for the poor cottager; and the 
 occasional sound of the tolling bell which announced that the 
 hour for the mournful service had arrived. His employer, a 
 man whose generosity to the poor and kindness to the 
 afflicted often filled me with admiration, had his carriage 
 placed in front to convey the family of the deceased, and 
 then a long line of other neat vehicles, and a large number 
 on foot, formed the funeral cortege. And as we moved 
 towards the church, in low sounds were uttered eulogies, 
 that kings might covet. And when his body was lowered 
 into the grave, and dust was committed to dust, we said 
 " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, yea saith the 
 spirit from henceforth, for they rest from their labors and their 
 works do follow them." And there was a response of tears 
 from the rich and the poor ; and from all hearts there seemed 
 
114 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 to go up the silent prayer — " Let me die the death of the 
 righteous, and let my last end be like his." 
 
 '• For him no more the blazing hearth shall burn, 
 Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; 
 No children run to lisp their sire's return, 
 Or climb his knee, the envied kiss to share." 
 
 No ! he sleeps sweetly in the grave, and his memory is 
 blessed. Farewell my first spiritual born — my friend and 
 fellow-heir of glory. 
 
 In the grave also rests the statesman who so long and 
 gallantly steered the ship of state ; faithfully did he serve 
 his country ; in war and in peace he was ever the true 
 patriot ; by the exertions of his intellect he threw of!" many a 
 brilliant page for his country's history ; when dangers were 
 present he was ready to meet them ; when storms darkened 
 the political horizon and passions rose in fearful conflict — 
 when the body politic was quivering in every fibre with alarm, 
 and the nation's heart trembled almost pulseless, and fear had 
 fallen upon the people, it was his office to quiet the storm, 
 and to heal the discords. But, ah ! how often was his spirit 
 wounded by unkindness ! his patriotic exertions were 
 pronounced the fruits of selfishness, and the ofllspring of 
 ambition ; the eye of envy was ever ready to detect flaws in 
 his character — the tongue of slander was always moving 
 with utterances of disparagement; and hands which should 
 have been employed in weaving garlands to decorate his 
 brow were busied in preparing crowns of thorns to wound 
 bis temples ; but, in the midst of opposing influences, he 
 
THE CONFLICTS OP LIFE END. 115 
 
 remained firm ; true to his cause, sublime in his conceptions 
 of duly, and exalted in his convictions of that which would 
 be lasting and glorious for his country, he stood invested 
 with that majestic grandeur which the gifted Virgil so 
 eloquently accords to Mezentius. 
 
 " He like a solid rock by seas enclosed, 
 To raging winds and roaring waves exposed, 
 From his proud summit looking down disdains 
 Their empty clamor, and unmoved remains." 
 
 Amonsf the thina;s which we have most cause to mourn, as 
 a people, is the want of a proper appreciation of the great and 
 useful while they live. No sooner does it become manifest 
 that a great intellect is rising and shooting its beams across 
 the earth, than there are those found, who, instead of doing 
 homage to the rising star, labor to diminish its light, and 
 would, if they could, quench its glory in forgetfulness and 
 gloom. But, as they cannot pluck him from that orbit in 
 which he is fitted to move, nor yet endure the strength of his 
 shining, their hearts, like those stagnant pools which are 
 troubled by the sunbeams, send up their foul vapors to 
 eclipse his brightness. Prejudice, envy, and selfishness often 
 render men incapable of appreciating that which is noble 
 and exalted. And it is a humiliating affliction which the 
 patriot must endure, to have his path beset, his progress 
 trammeled, and his efforts encumbered by the arts and low 
 tricks of the demagogue, who has mistaken himself for his 
 country — who would be content to thrive on the ruins of 
 the commonwealth which has given him birth and shelter, and 
 
116 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 v.ho would win renown by scattering with his vile hands to 
 the winds the ashes of her greatness. All illustrious 
 characters are doomed to encounter the displeasure of minds 
 that move in small circles and give birth to nothing higher 
 than detraction. Yea, too often is it the sad experience of 
 those who have done most to advance every interest of the 
 country, and to make her history luminous with gloiy, that, 
 instead of being appreciated and honored, (the only rewards 
 after which the lofty intellect aspires,) they are neglected and 
 calumniated. For there are serpents along the most 
 flowery paths of life, who, while concealed from observation, 
 are ever hissing and flinging their venom upon the deserving 
 and the just. And I do not wonder that those of conscious 
 intellectual strength and uprightness of intention sometimes 
 feel like planting their foot upon those hearts that never throb 
 with a generous emotion, and crushing them as they would 
 a noisome and venomous insect. 
 
 Perhaps none can know but those whose entire existence has 
 been devoted to unremitted labor in public life, how dearly 
 purchased was every honor which they enjoyed. But he 
 who never swerved from duty, who always aimed to do 
 right, who stood unmoved when others would have shrunk 
 from the responsibilities of the hour, welcomes the calm of 
 life's evening, the end of his conflicts. Sweet are the closing 
 hours of his eventful existence when the storms which beat 
 upon him are sighing out their last groans, and the war of 
 elements which raged around him is dying away. The sun 
 sometimes appears far more brilliant and glorious when 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 117 
 
 setting in the calm of an evening sky, than while he walked 
 the firmament, partly obscured by the vapors which rose from 
 the marshes and lowlands which he warmed. And so he, 
 who long and faithfully stood upon the watch-towers of free- 
 dom, and whose bosom bears many a scar received in those 
 battles through which the nation struggled to greatness and 
 to glory, retires into the valley of death far more res})lendent 
 than he ever was in life, doing homage to Christianity by 
 leaning only upon the staff of its promises, confessing that God 
 and eternity alone are great, and is followed by a nation's 
 regrets and tears. Here, then, in the sepulchre he 
 reposes — the envied, the hated, and the loved. Here no 
 enemy pursues him ; no shaft of calumny pierces ; no vexa- 
 tious and wasting cares annoy him in his quiet retreat. The 
 many brilliant conflicts with other intellects are ended, and 
 he sleeps humbly and peacefully as a child. And now, with- 
 drawn from the forum and the senate, he lives in many 
 devoted hearts ; and as the page of history unfolds his 
 illustrious deeds and exalted virtues, even those who were 
 wont to depreciate his worth are loud in their applauses. 
 
 Here, also, rest those who were the originators and 
 scpporters of humane and Christian enterprises. Hard did 
 they struggle to usher into existence and bring into favor with 
 the public those homes for the unfortunate and wTetched, 
 which have shed consolation and peace into desolate antl 
 weary hearts. Feeling for " others' woes," they went forth 
 on errands of mercy, their feet rejoicing in the way of benevo- 
 lence, and their hands never weary in dispensing blessings. 
 
118 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 They founded hospitals and asylums for the unfortunate 
 and sick. They provided homes for the outcasts, and 
 became the friends of the friendless. It is amazing, when 
 ^Ye inquire into the origin of charitable institutions, through 
 \vhat difficulties they pressed into existence, and what oppo- 
 sition they encountered all along their progress until the tide 
 of public sympathy began to flow in their favor. Nothing 
 but a deep, unsullied, and operative love for the poor and 
 benighted, and the consciousness of the immense and lasting 
 benefits to society, could have sustained those noble souls, 
 through whose exertions those moral enterprises were set 
 on foot which now send out their healing streams through 
 all the earth. Whether the blessings which these are 
 designed to convey are bodily or spiritual, or both, they 
 required the toil of years to bring them into general favor. 
 It was long before the generous sailor found a safe asylum, 
 after he was so worn and weather-beaten in the service of his 
 country that he was no longer able to discharge the duties 
 of his calling ; for temples, and bethels, and chaplains for 
 those who go down into the sea, and pause at Christian 
 ports like birds of passage, were only recently secured for 
 this class of men, who are the general benefactors of society. 
 Protracted and indefatigable exertions were required, even 
 in connection with the winning and constraining power of a 
 Christian lady, who, with the spirit of a Howard, has jour- 
 neyed from State to State, and it was by her faithful represen- 
 tations of the neglect, and in some instances the inhumanity 
 with which the poor insane were treated in our almshouses, tliat 
 
THE CONFLICTS OP LIFE END. 119 
 
 she prevailed on legislators to provide comfortable asylums 
 and proper care and treatment for this unhappy class of 
 citizens. And such is the early history of all other institu- 
 tions which demanded the active charities of men to give 
 them life and make them a blessing. All made many ineffec- 
 tual appeals, met with cold looks and blunt refusals, and some- 
 times with open opposition. Rocky, indeed, is the human 
 heart ; for only will its sympathies warmly and freely flow 
 after it is smitten with the rod of Jesse. Rest then in peace, 
 ye true-hearted and self-sacrificing friends of humanity ! Ye 
 endured the scorn of the heartless, and the abuse of the 
 covetous, but you bore yourselves nobly, and triumphed ; 
 and now that the Mission which has borne salvation to the 
 far-off heathen, and the society which gives an open Bible to 
 the poor, and those other instrumentalities which make glad 
 the distressed, and light millions on the road to heaven, 
 while all these institutions are shedding life, light, and happi- 
 ness over an afflicted world, ye slumber in the hallowed 
 grave. Your conflicts have ended in the tomb, and your 
 souls have found repose in heaven; and of you it has already 
 been written — 
 
 «' To the blind, the deaf, the lame, 
 
 To the ignorant and vile. 
 Stranger, captive, slave, ye came, 
 
 With a welcome and a smile. 
 Help to all ye did dispense. 
 
 Gold, instruction, raiment, food ; 
 Like the gifts of Providence, 
 
 To the evil and the good." 
 
120 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 In the sepulchre end also the trials and labors of the 
 ambassador of God : although he had gone forth with a 
 commission drawn in heaven, bearing the seal of the King of 
 Kings, and with messages of peace from the Sovereign of the 
 universe to a revolted world, yet was he not received by those 
 lo whom he preached the " Good News " as an accredited 
 messenger from the court of heaven. The multitude heard 
 with indifference the solemn words of life and of death, of 
 heaven and of hell. Some smiled at his earnestness ; others 
 ridiculed and scorned ; and because they would not take 
 warning and flee the wrath to come he wept in secret for 
 them. And those who hearkened to his words and yielded 
 submission to the claims of God, often filled him with 
 anxieties, and caused him to wet his pillow with midnight 
 tears. For behold their friendships were fickle, their piety 
 unstable, and they loathed the descending manna because 
 they lusted after the grosser meats of base appetites ; and 
 after they had been a while in the green pastures and along 
 the pleasant streams of salvation, they went back and " walked 
 no more with Jesus." All this afflicted the pastor's heart, 
 and he cried — "0! that my head were waters and mine 
 eyes fountains of tears, that I might weep day and night for 
 the slain of the daughter of my people." Faithful ones there 
 were who sympathised with his work, and who stood around 
 him and ministered like Aarons and Hurs ; but these knew but 
 few of the pressures and conflicts of the man of God. Afflic- 
 tion and poverty both did their office in weaning his affections 
 from the things that are seen, and causing him to cast the 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE EXD. 121 
 
 anchor of his hope within the veil as the only place where 
 they shall neither hunger nor thirst ; where there are neither 
 pains nor tears, and where the inhabitant shall no more say I 
 am sick. Well do I remember a faithful, godly man, whom 
 I was accustomed to hear in my childhood declare tlie un- 
 searchable riches of Christ. Age and want came with their 
 infirmities and cares ; and because his tongue was no longer 
 like the pen of a ready writer, and there were itching cars 
 and fastidious hearers, the venerable minister became a 
 burden, and his voice could no longer charm the dull ear. 
 After a little manoeuvring and hesitation, it was concluded 
 that he should be dismissed. He was duly informed that he 
 could no longer preach for the people who had grown up 
 under his service. Penniless and infirm, he was thrown out 
 to be cared for as the fowls of the air, " which neither sow 
 nor reap, nor gather into barns." The blow^ was too severe 
 for the feebleness of age, and God in mercy permitted him 
 to become the second time a child. And often did he wander 
 to the sanctuary whose doors had been closed against him, and 
 there he sat by the gate of the temple and wept away his hour, 
 and then returned to his cheerless home. Sometimes he 
 would lose himself; and often did I direct his wandering 
 footsteps into the way that led to his home ; and when assured 
 that he was in the right road, with a countenance beaming 
 with kindness he would dismiss me, saying, " God bless you, 
 dear boy." But after a few years thus spent, the Lord 
 brought his pilgrimage to a close, for He took him, and we 
 were invited to follow his remains to the sepulchre. Well 
 11 
 
122 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 do I remember that solemn occasion ; for although a mere 
 lad, the scene made such an impression upon my mind that it 
 is vividly before me even now. The words of the preacher 
 came with thrilling power, as he pointed to that coffin which 
 contained the shrouded form of the holy man, and said, "He 
 being dead yet speaketh." Ah, yes! he spoke even then to 
 many a heart. Lessons long forgotten and unimproved, which 
 had been uttered by those lips sealed by death, rose to the 
 mind with an urgency and force they never had before. 
 Years have passed away ; my childhood is gone, and the flight 
 of time has carried me far in the race of life ; but the vener- 
 able form of that holy man is ever present as a faithful 
 monitor, and that coffin has ever since been a silent but 
 eloquent preacher to my soul. Blessed servant of Jesus, thou 
 art at rest ; thy conflicts are over, and thy soul has found 
 repose. May I be as faithful as tliou hast been ; and if a 
 mysterious but wise Providence should ordain for me as it 
 did for thee, want, sickness, age, and the loss of friends 
 whose graves are not dug, yea, even exclusion from the public 
 altars of religion, may I be faithful, humble, submissive, and 
 trustful, that with thee I may wear the crown after death has 
 released me from the cross. 
 
 The sepulchre also holds the precious dust of the children 
 of affliction. The physician and the minister of religion are 
 perhaps the only persons who have any considerable know- 
 ledge of the amount of suffering and distress in human 
 society. Their mission is often to those who are pining 
 away in sorrow, unknown and uncared for by the masses of 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 123 
 
 men. The vocation of the minister brings him in contact 
 with the great, the rich, and the poor, and conducts him 
 through all the walks of humble and exalted life. He 
 is sometimes found in the stately mansion, but oftener in the 
 humble retreats of poverty : and sometimes he finds the rich 
 and the great restless and unhappy when stretched upon beds 
 of down, though under the most skilful treatment and 
 ministered to by gentle hands. And what discontent, what 
 murmurs often rise from those, whether rich or poor, who are 
 seldom indisposed, and whose few days of illness are so 
 impatiently borne, that it is a relief to all their attendants 
 when they are again able to leave the chamber of affliction ! 
 It is not of those I would speak, as persons who look to the 
 sepulchre as the end of their conflicts and trials : I might 
 relate many afTecting and instructive incidents which have 
 fallen under my notice ; but, as it is not my purpose to crowd 
 these pages with any more examples than are simply sufficient 
 to illustrate the caption of this chapter, I wfll introduce but 
 one more to the reader, whose history cannot fail to engage 
 his attention. In the commencement of my ministry I was 
 settled among a plain but interesting people ; among the first 
 with whom I formed an acquaintance was an aged lady, who 
 had then already been painfully afflicted for eight or nine 
 years. I soon discovered that she was an humble child of 
 God, and a quiet and patient suff"erer. She was almost 
 entirely helpless, and dependent upon a devoted and amiable 
 daughter for such attentions as she might need by day and 
 by night. She anticipated the wants of her mother, and 
 
124 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 soothed her in her sorrows as well as she could. For the 
 space of ten years were my visits and ministrations continued 
 to the dwellers in that humble but delightful home. They 
 lived in a neat little cottage which stood a short distance from 
 the public road, almost hid by trees and covered with the ivy 
 and the honey-suckle. Although they enjoyed the comforts 
 of life they had not the abundance and luxuries of the rich. 
 But there was peace and contentment ; and over her frugal 
 board that afflicted mother uttered the prayer of another — 
 " all this, and Jesus Christ too." To my inquiries about her 
 health she answered meekly and with holy resignation. 
 " My sufferings," she would say, " are nothing compared 
 with those which my dear Saviour endured for me. And 
 then there are many others who have not the comforts that I 
 have, nor this blessed Bible, nor such kind children and 
 neighbors. And then my trials will all end, and I hope it 
 may please the Lord to take me to heaven when he sees that 
 it is enough ; and until then he will give me grace tq bear my 
 afflictions." Although Ifer pains often held her waking 
 during the night, she would add, " I can bear them a little 
 better to-day." And often, while her countenance was radiant 
 with joy as we spoke of Jesus, and our pilgrimage and future 
 home, her anguish of body would send forth involuntary 
 groans. When conscious that she betrayed signs of distress 
 she would check herself, and with an effort suppress the rising 
 sigh. O ! what grace was needed ; and what a hold she 
 must have had upon God, and what a large measure of the 
 spirit of the Lamb of God, that she could be so fully resigned 
 
THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE END. 125 
 
 to llie will of heaven as she looked out for years from her 
 cottage window upon a landscape so beautiful ; so full of life 
 and health, and herself experience no spring-time of renewed 
 strength. But she never murmured. There is no spot on 
 earth which I remember with more pleasure ; none where I 
 learned so much the value of the gospel ; and none where I 
 saw those Christian graces, humility, patience, and resignation 
 to the Divine will, shine with such a heavenly lustre. It was 
 good to be there. And there was no place during my ministry 
 among that people where I enjoyed a more sensible nearness 
 to God, or had a richer foretaste of the blessed realities of 
 heaven, than in that little cottage. Although none of the 
 great of the earth visited her humble dwelling, God and his 
 angels cheered that home with their presence. Sweet were 
 those seasons of communion, when I broke to her the bread 
 of life and gave her the cup of blessing; and blessed are the 
 memories of those occasions. After a period of incessant and 
 painful sufTering, of about twenty years, the good Lord took 
 his servant home. A letter from her daughter, who w^as her 
 faithful attendant through all her suffering, announcing her 
 death to us, says she died " sweetly and calmly as the 
 closing day." Earnestly had she longed for the repose of the 
 sepulchre, but patiently did she w^ait for her appointed time ; 
 and now, delivered from her conflicts, she has passed from 
 her twenty years of suffering into an eternity of joy. Dearly 
 beloved one, I mourn thee as my fond and faithful friend, 
 and rejoice with thee that thou hast overcome, and now 
 wearest the crown of life. The book of God will show what 
 11* 
 
126 IN THE SEPULCHRE 
 
 blessings descended upon me and my family, and upon my 
 ministry through your prayers. For as a fountain in the 
 wilderness unobserved sends up its vapors, which empty 
 themselves upon the thirsty plain, so did thy prayers rise like 
 holy and acceptable incense into the presence of Jehovah, 
 and return in refreshing showers of grace upon the heritage 
 of God. But thy days of weariness and thy nights of anguish 
 are over ; thy poor afflicted body shall know no more pain ; 
 thy worn and weary spirit shall no more sigh in exile from 
 heaven. 
 
 " Calm on the bosom of thy God 
 Fair spirit! rest thee now, 
 Even while with us thy footsteps trode, 
 
 His seal was on thy brow, 
 Dust to its narrow house beneath, 
 
 Soul to its place on high ! 
 They that have seen thy look in death, 
 No more may fear to die." 
 
 Yes, in the peaceful grave our labors, our conflicts, and 
 trials shall all end. Up, then, ye desponding expectants of 
 heaven ! gird up your loins and be panoplied with the armor 
 of faith, and weather the storm, for it will soon have spent 
 itself or landed you on the bright shores of a happy eternity. 
 Behold ! even now are those clouds of dark calamity spanned 
 by the bow of promise — they are rolling off, and eternal sun- 
 shine will soon flash around you; for a cloudless day of glory 
 will be the inheritance of all " who wait for thy salvation, ! 
 God." Up, then, ye downcast under a weight of suffering, 
 and make Christ your example and your refuge. Under the 
 pressure of a load that would have crushed the universe, he 
 
THE CONFLICTS OP LIFE END. 127 
 
 says, "the cup which my father hath given me, shall I not 
 drink it ?" Lift up your eyes from the gloom of your chamber, 
 tlie wreck of your hopes and your friendships, and say with the 
 Master, " Father, thy will be done." For what are even 
 twenty or more years, of keen and unceasing anguish, during 
 which shock after shock is felt, which sends tremors of pain 
 quivering through every fibre of our frame — and wave after 
 wave rolls over our heads, if meekly endured, and we are 
 " exercised thereby in righteousness ;" they will be succeeded 
 by rapturous glory. One moment in heaven will be worth a 
 whole lifetime of affliction. And as the flowing fountain is 
 prized most by him who comes panting from the burning 
 desert — and food and rest are most grateful to him who has 
 journeyed over a long and rugged path, so will the fouutain 
 of living waters be the more refreshing, and eternal rest all 
 the sweeter to the spirit that has grown worn and weary on 
 a long and painful road. Tempted, suffering soul, cling then 
 to the cross, and cast the anchor of your hope fast by the 
 throne of God, and your frail, weather-beaten bark will 
 not only outride the storm, but finally sweep into the haven 
 of endless peace amid the shouts and hosannahs of the 
 redeemed. 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 
 AT THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED WE 
 MAY LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 
 
 "Life is before ye ; from the fated road 
 Ye cannot turn ; then take ye up the load. 
 Not your's to tread, or leave the unknown way ; 
 Ye must go o'er it, meet ye what ye may ; 
 Gird up your souls within you to the deed ; 
 Angels and fellow-spirits bid you speed ! 
 What though the brightness wane, the pleasure fade, 
 The glory dim ! oh, not of these is made 
 The awful life that to your trust is given. 
 Children of God! Inhei'itors of heaven!" 
 
 0, Life! thou etliereal, intangible something, what art 
 thou .'' To us thou art known only in the emblems of thy 
 frailty. Thou art like the springing grass, " in the morning 
 it groweth up, and in the evening it is cut down and wlther- 
 eth." Thou art like the vapor which floats a moment on the 
 wind and then vanishes into air. How shall we think and 
 speak of thee, so that we may rightly understand thy worth ? 
 Thou art beautiful or sad ; thou art bright or sullen ; thou art 
 loved or loathed ; thou art on the swift wing of the dove, or 
 travelest snail-like, just as our condition fits or disposes us 
 to view thee in one or the other of those countless hues with 
 
 (128) 
 
AT THE SEPULCHRES, ETC. 129 
 
 which our ever-varying state invests thee. To the wretched 
 thou appearest as a starless night swept by storms and 
 tempests ; to the youthful and the happy thou art like a bird 
 from paradise, scattering sweet odors from thy wings, making 
 their path beautiful and fragrant. What shall we call thee ? 
 Thou art — 
 
 " A flower that doth -with opening morn arise, 
 
 And flourishing the day, at evening dies ; 
 
 A winged eastern blast, just skimming o'er 
 
 The ocean's brow, and sinking on the shore ; 
 
 A fire whose crackling flames through stubble fly, 
 
 A meteor shooting from the summer sky ; 
 
 A bowl adown the bending mountains roll'd, 
 
 A bubble breaking, and a fable told ; 
 
 A noontide shadow, and a midnight dream. 
 
 Are emblems which with semblance apt proclaim 
 
 Our earthly course." 
 
 Such imagery fitly represents the fleeting character of our 
 present life ; and yet, uncertain and transient as it is, the 
 interests of two worlds are pressed within its limits, and all 
 the blessings or woes which eternity has in store for the soul 
 are gathered within the brief space of our existence in the 
 flesh. And while a thousand incidents around us admonish 
 us of the shortness of our stay on earth, and those high con- 
 siderations which. lay hold on eternal ages demonstrate to us 
 the priceless worth of passing moments, and the ambassadors 
 of Christ ring in our ears the words of the Master, " work 
 while it is day, for the night cometh in which no man can 
 work," there is no place where we are more deeply impressed 
 with the value of life than at the sepulchres of our departed. 
 For here a voice, solemn and thrilling, rises from out the 
 
130 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 stillness of that tomb in which they moulder, saying, " What- 
 soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for 
 there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor w'isdom, in 
 the grave whither thou goest." It inculcates lessons of 
 industry ; and industry is essential to advancement in 
 temporal and spiritual things. But this admonition has more 
 particular reference to our moral preparation for another 
 world ; as if it said, whatsoever remains to be done in rela- 
 tion to your personal salvation, do it quickly. If repentance 
 has been deferred, delay it no longer, for there may be but a 
 step between thee and the grave. Smitten in our original 
 head, the whole race is corrupt and divorced from the joys 
 of God's favor and a holy immortality. "From the crown 
 of the head to the soles of the feet there are wounds and 
 bruises, and putrefying sores." The whole man, with all his 
 faculties and powers, has been swept with the blight and 
 desolation of moral death. There is no seed of life in the 
 unregenerate heart ; and no immortal hopes grow spontane- 
 ously in the human soul. Fallen from God and cut off from 
 heaven, there is no help in us ; for we are destitute of those 
 resources which are absolutely necessary to make us new 
 creatures. And unless the hand of Omnipotence lifts us oxit 
 of that horrible pit into which sin has cast us, and our feet 
 out of the miry clay of inward corruptions, and places us 
 upon the Rock and establishes our goings, our mouth will 
 never be filled with the new song of salvation and praise to 
 our God. For " he that believeth not the Son shall not see 
 life; but the wrath of God abideth on him." If we are 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OP LIFE. 131 
 
 Still unconverted we have yet a great work to perform, and 
 one which it is not wise to delay a single moment. God 
 cries to us with earnest solicitude, " To-day if you will hear 
 my voice harden not your hearts." The duty of this prepa- 
 ration presses with tremendous urgency ; for as death finds 
 us we will remain through all the revolving cycles of eternity. 
 Heaven once lost, is lost forever! And while the unseen 
 arrows of the destroyer fly thickly and fatally around us, and 
 our moments are on the wing, the magnitude and weight of 
 those great interests heyond the grave surely demand imme- 
 diate attention. 
 
 Withdraw not then thy mind from those considerations of 
 the brevity and value of life which cluster around the tomb, 
 until thy soul has bowed in deep abasement and unreserved 
 submission to that God who holds your breath, and whose dis- 
 pleasure could send you this moment uncheered into the grave, 
 and hopeless into a dread eternity. Go, kneel by the 
 mouldering remains of your cherished ones, and there, all help- 
 less and destitute of power to form your soul anew, look away 
 from your feebleness unto Him " who is mighty to save, 
 even to the uttermost, all them that come unto God through 
 Him," and turn from all human helpers to a crucified 
 Redeemer " who is made unto us, wisdom, righteousness, 
 sanctification, and complete redemption." Yes, look to 
 Calvary and fix your trust upon that crimson flood which 
 gushes from the wounded Lamb, until a living faith forms 
 the vital bond of union between you and the source of life 
 and salvation, and you can rejoice in the hope of the glory 
 
132 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 of God. For, as the Israelites in the wilderness, when 
 stung by fiery serpents, would have perished had they looked 
 at their wounds only, and not at the brazen serpent which 
 Moses had elevated as the divinely ordained means of their 
 healing, so the soul stung by sin is never restored to spiri- 
 tual health until it looks away from its wounds, and its 
 prayers and its tears, to the only hope of perishing sinners, 
 Jesus crucified. Then, and then only will he experience the 
 inflowings of a new life, and rejoice in a conscious renova- 
 tion of his nature. And, adopting the language of Paul, he 
 will triumphantly exclaim, "I am crucified unto the world, 
 nevertheless I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and 
 the life which I now live, I live by faith on the Son of God 
 who loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 
 But if you have been begotten unto a lively hope, and your 
 faith has placed you in fellowship with the Father and the 
 Son, as a Christian, you have many and urgent duties to 
 discharge, and to you does the sepulchre also say. What- 
 soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. Have 
 you a family? Then, there you have an important field to 
 cultivate. It must be o;uarded from blig^htino: and desolating 
 winds, and kept free from all briars and thorns, that you may 
 contemplate with joy your home as a garden ornamented 
 with flowers, and fragrant with the odors of love. Those 
 children are to be instructed — their minds enriched with 
 lessons of wisdom, and their hearts peopled with kind feel- 
 ings and benevolent affections. Patience, industry, prudence 
 and perseverance must all unite in this work. The artist 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 133 
 
 who sits (Iowa to a block of marble does not, by one blow 
 of the hammer and one touch of the chisel, cause it to leap 
 out into the symmetrical statue which is to immortalize his 
 name ; but months and years of application of his skill and 
 toil are needed to give that statue a place in the cabinet, and 
 draw around it admiring crowds. And it is not by one 
 good lesson, but by often repeated precepts and long and 
 laborious culture, that the character of the child is so 
 fashioned as to charm amongst men and to be admired 
 by angels. Patiently sits the painter to his task ; and only 
 after many strokes of his pencil you shall behold the rough 
 outlines of human features ; and only after many delicate 
 touches are given does the canvass glow whh the form of 
 beauty, and look life-like and breathing. And it is only 
 when we address ourselves to the work with the determina- 
 tion that we will accomplish it, even if our efforts are 
 stretched through years, that we shall succeed in imprinting 
 the graces of virtue upon the characters of our children. 
 Daily instructions, accompanied with the force of an example 
 which corresponds with our precepts, are needed to n:ake 
 our offspring intelligent and holy. I knew two neighbors, 
 who, on a spring morning, obtained from a friend each a 
 scion of a valued tree, and they both returned to their homes 
 rejoicing. Each planted his precious shoot. But the one care- 
 lessly and unwisely placed it in a rocky soil, and after refresh- 
 ing it once or twice with water, suffered it to grow as best it 
 could. And it was not long before it drooped and died, and 
 his labor was lost, and his hope disappointed. But the odier 
 12 
 
134 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 more wisely selected good soil by the side of a living brook, 
 and tenderly set his plant in the ground. I saw him lay soft 
 earth around the delicate fibres ©f its roots, and he gave it a 
 support that the winds might not disturb it until it had 
 acquired sirength to stand: and it grew, and its boughs 
 expanded, and the fowls of heaven came and made music in 
 its branches, and it yielded pleasant fruit, and all that passed 
 by said, behold how beautiful and good! And so have I 
 seen a precious child, a gift from the Lord, planted in the 
 hard and barren soil of unbelief, where no prayer softened it, 
 where no dews of grace descended to bless and fructify ; 
 and that tender plnnt, tossed by the breath of sin and 
 shaken by the storms of profanity, soon had its innocence 
 withered and its beauty blighted, and it stood as a blasted 
 tree without comeliness or fruit, and I wept and passed on. 
 But I came to another, who, at the same time, had brought 
 to him by an angel a sprig from the tree of life, and I 
 wondered how I should find that child which he had 
 received with trembling. And behold, he had restrained 
 it from the w^ay of the ungodly, and kept it from the seat 
 of the scornful, and caused it to delight in the law of the 
 Lord, and made the streams which gladden the city of God 
 flow around it ; and lo ! it grew, and God delighted in it, 
 and in its presence the tears of helpless orphanage forgot to 
 flow, and widowed hearts sang around it for joy. Great 
 indeed is the work and fearful the responsibility which 
 devolves upon parents. A work which should be commenced 
 even before our offspring are born, and not remitted until 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 135 
 
 they have entered heaven. It is while the rivulet 
 warbles its faintest song that we may form its subsequent 
 broad and peaceful current. If in its early outflows it is left 
 to seek its own channel, it will wind its way into gloomy 
 forests, and flow by serpents' nests and gather in their venom ; 
 or it will expand into the marsh and become a stagnant pool 
 whose noxious vapors will breed the pestilence ; or it will 
 dash and foam over shelving rocks until its angry current is 
 lost in the abyss of the ocean. It is thus with the life of the 
 infant child : control it while its passions are weak, and its 
 corruptions slumber; direct the out-goings of its soul towards 
 God, and as it grows in stature and in spirit, " its peace will 
 be like a river and its righteousness as the waves of the sea." 
 Earl} acquaint it with its sinfulness, and gently draw upon it 
 the moulding hand of the Saviour. In the morning of life 
 put forth your exertions for its salvation — pray with it and 
 for it, for it is while the clay is impressible and yielding that 
 the potter forms his vessel. And forget not to keep your life 
 unspotted from the world and clothed with holiness, that it 
 may see imaged in you all the graces of lofty virtue. The 
 pearl which reflects the colors of the rainbow also has the 
 power of imparting this property to the white wax which 
 is pressed firmly upon it, and in like manner has the 
 Christian character the power of impressing the pliable 
 nature of childhood with all the excellencies for which it is 
 distinguished. Those who are the constant witnesses of our 
 conduct from their earliest years, are insensibly, but so 
 eflectually assimilated to our character, that in all that 
 
136 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 constitutes the life of the child the parent re-appears before 
 the world. This transmission of character extends to such a 
 dei^ree that the manners, the bearings and intonations of 
 voice in the offspring are readily recognized as those which 
 were known in the parent. Parents of immortals, do we live 
 as immortals ? Are our affections, our thoughts, and our 
 hopes manifestly tending heavenward and circling around 
 the Eternal Throne ? ! how necessary it is to make those 
 around us feel what we profess to realize, that here we 
 have no continuing city, but seek one to come. And not 
 only has the Christian parent an immense work to do in 
 training his children and household for heaven, but the work 
 of his personal salvation, however far it may have advanced, 
 is nev^r complete this side of the sepulchre. " The path 
 of the just is as a shining light which shineth more and more 
 until the perfect day." High as he may have ascended on 
 the mount of excellence, there are other heights to be scaled ; 
 and the command is, onward, onward, until the glory of the 
 earthly is blended with the glory of the heavenly. 
 
 There is a work for all to do in the vineyard of Christ. 
 The third and the ninth hour may already be passed, and 
 even the eleventh hour may be partly spent, while the cry of 
 the master is still heard, " Why stand ye here all the day 
 idle ?" For it is possible that, although a member of the 
 church and a regular attendant on the ministrations of the 
 sanctuary, and contributing to the wealth and respectability 
 of the congregation, a man may not have added any thing to 
 the moral weight and spiritual interests of the flock with 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 137 
 
 which he is connected. And if such be the case, he has not 
 yet dischai-o'ed those duties which rank first in importance in 
 the life of a Christian. Your minister, the congregation, and 
 above all your Saviour, has a right to expect, and He does 
 demand, such a consecration of your being to His service, and 
 such a standard of piety, that others may " take knowledge 
 of you that you have been with Jesus and learned of Him." 
 Others should be able to perceive without the pains of a 
 careful observation, that you are thoroughly identified with 
 the cause and Author of Christianity. There should be such 
 visible fruits of an operative faith as to leave no room for the 
 shadow of a doubt as to your personal interest in the great 
 salvation. A branch on the vine, if it retains a healthy 
 connection with the parent stem, will be loaded with 
 delicious fruit. It is certainly required of a disciple to 
 establish an elevated Christian character, that he may in 
 reality be " as a city set on a hill," and as a light shining in 
 a dark world. His deportment and example should be of 
 such a pure and elevated form that those younger in years 
 may safely copy them. He should be a pattern of virtue 
 and benevolence, that even " when the places that know him 
 now shall know him no more forever," he may fulfil a 
 mission of mercy by his posthumous influence ; and that, 
 when his voice no longer mingles in the songs of the earthly 
 Zion, and others occupy the place now filled by him, he may 
 live in their affections, and by the recollections of his 
 devotion to the service of God, stimulate them to labors of 
 charity and to the attainment of an exalted piety. 
 1 2 * 
 
138 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 But, as a member of the social state, and particularly as 
 the head of a household, the Christian should inquire 
 whether his business is arranged in such a manner as would 
 enable him to go to his reward widiout regret, and at a 
 moment's warning. " Set thy house in order, for thou shalt 
 die and not live," was the message which the prophet of the 
 Lord brought to Hezekiah. Set thy house in order, we 
 would say to all who are expectants of heaven. Have all 
 things in a proper condition, that if death comes at a period 
 least expected, it may find you in a waiting and prepared 
 attitude. Very painful and melancholy consequences are 
 sometimes witnessed in the families of those who had made 
 no provision for a sudden departure from this world. For 
 scarcely were their bodies consigned to the grave before 
 strife and litigation commenced, which grew in violence 
 until the tenderest bonds W'ere ruptured, and a whole family 
 thrown into anarchy, and hearts once joined in holy love 
 were alienated from each other, and never after met but in 
 jarrings, criminations, and recriminations. So that even the 
 memory of a father was not pleasantly cherished ; forasmuch 
 as, through his negligence rightly to adjust his worldly affairs, 
 the happiness of his family was destroyed. And a proper 
 arrangement every year of that business which so many defer 
 to the final hour, will by no means hasten your end, nor will 
 it make you melancholy, to write your own testament while 
 in health. And not only is it the most fitting time, while 
 in the vigor of health, to have a care to this business, but it 
 will leave you calmer and your mind freer from care in that 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 139 
 
 solemn hour when your spirit is to take its flight to the bosom 
 of God ; — an hour which should not be burdened with any- 
 worldly anxieties or business, but should be emphatically an 
 hour to die, and therefore not have the communion of the 
 soul with God disturbed by earthly transactions. For what 
 interest can we then feel in houses and lands, and large 
 estates, when nothing appears momentous or great but those 
 eternal realities which come thronging around the mind, and 
 into which we shall then enter. O ! my God, suffer not my 
 last hour to be filled with the cares of this world, nor with 
 the adjustment and disposal of those blessings which thou 
 hast bestowed! Is it not enough that such a large proportion 
 of my life has been devoted to the acquisition of wealth, or 
 other creature goods, so that my very last moments must be 
 offered at some other shrine than Thine ? No ! I will so 
 order my life, and so command and shape my business, that 
 when the harbingers of death commence their work of 
 demolition upon this house of clay, that thou, blessed God, 
 mayest fill that hour with thy gracious presence ; that my 
 soul may calmly and sweetly sink into thee, the Parent of 
 my being, as the drop loses itself in the ocean. 
 
 Again would I ask, have you done all you purpose doing 
 for the extension of Christ's kingdom in the earth ? Tf not, 
 then what you design doing, do with thy might. What 
 interest do you feel in the great conflict which is now raging 
 between light and darkness? Has the love of Christ not 
 only restored you to your lost dignity, but also so elevated 
 your conceptions and expanded the sympathies of your soul 
 
140 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 that they rise above all those barriers of sectarianism, and 
 have become so truly Christian and catholic as to gather 
 within their embrace the whole family of man ? Have you 
 attained that spiritual exaltation which enables you to look 
 over this wide world where this conflict is now progressing, 
 that wherever you see the sacramental host of God fighting 
 the battles of the Lord, under whatever banner, so that you 
 see the beaming star of Bethlehem and the stripes of Calvary 
 upon it, you can pray for and rejoice in their success? This 
 may all be true of you ; for the friends of Jesus cannot look 
 with indifference on the present state of the world ; but are 
 not purposes maturing in your mind which would, if con- 
 summated, greatly contribute to the advancement of the 
 Redeemer's kingdom? For it is scarcely presumable that 
 any Christian who has largely shared in the benefactions of a 
 merciful Providence, has not also determined upon an 
 appropriation of at least a considerable amount of that which 
 he has been permitted to acquire, to the furtherance and 
 building up of Christ's empire on earth. And such a 
 recognition of the divine agency in his prosperity, and such 
 an acknowledgment of the goodness of that unseen hand 
 which has placed him among the princes and nobles of the 
 land, would assuredly be the legitimate offspring of a heart 
 renewed by the Holy Ghost and animated with a Saviour's 
 love. That there is great need for such offerings must be 
 manifest to all who take time to consider the organized forces 
 of evil which are every where arrayed against Christianity. 
 Never since the advent of the Saviour have such exertions 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 141 
 
 been made, and such instrumentalities pressed into the 
 service of the kingdom of darkness to undermine and 
 subvert the kingdom of heaven. The enemies of the cross 
 are besetting us on all sides, and are carrying on their war- 
 fare openly or secretly, as they may judge best suited to 
 advance their cause. See you not what innumerable garbs 
 they have assumed, under which to propagate their principles ? 
 Where the deformities of infidelity would shock the moral 
 sense of a community, and repel, rather than attract the 
 multitude to its standard, the enemy is clothed in the guise 
 of science, and labors to bring its deductions into conflict 
 with the revealed word of God. They have presumed to 
 lay open to the popular gaze the immensity of the universe, 
 and from the innumerable systems, and the magnitude of the 
 frame-work of creation, have labored to prove that the 
 infinite Jehovah, whose dominions are boundless, could not 
 have any solicitude for man, who, in comparison with the 
 orbs which peo})le immensity, is less than an atom to the sun, 
 and therefore beneath the notice of the Supreme Being. And 
 hence they would infer that the scheme of redemption is a 
 fiction ; forasmuch, as it is not probable that He who is the 
 architect of this stupendous materialism would humble him- 
 self to the condition of man. Forgetting, or designedly 
 avoiding, what would be a paradox to their conclusions, that 
 God, so far from being exclusively occupied with his larger 
 creation, has given us as many and even more wonderful 
 illustrations of his wisdom, goodness, and care, in the ani- 
 mated world, which lies as far beneath man as man lies 
 
142 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 beneath the dignity of angels. For, when we attentively 
 examine that world of life which the microscope reveals to 
 the eye, and see that all are provided with sustenance suited 
 to their nature, and supported in their brief existence and 
 made happy by that same Almighty Being whose energy 
 controls, and whose glory shines through all the universe ; 
 and when we further consider that each one of the myriads 
 of insects is instinct with a life of which God is the author 
 and jDreserver, it would be difficult to say whether God "is 
 greater in the world above us, or in the world beneath us." 
 And until the advocates of infidelity can conclusively demon- 
 strate that the sustaining power and preserving mercy of God 
 do not extend to all things, even to the minutest objects 
 within the wide limits of creation, their assertions have no 
 basis on which to rest, and their deductions are without force, 
 when they would reason out of existence the plan of redemp- 
 tion on the ground of man's insignificance, in comparison 
 with the vastness of Jehovah's empire. It is, moreover, in 
 harmony with all our conceptions of the infinite mind, that 
 it comprehends within its notice and care, the least, as well 
 as the greatest object within the limits of its range. They 
 have also gone down into the bowels of the earth, and 
 attempted to bring from its structure such proofs as should 
 invalidate the records of creation ; so that philosophy, litera- 
 ture, philanthropy, and even the hallowed name of religion, 
 all are made vehicles for the dissemination of error and of 
 vice. No difficulties, however formidable, deter them, no 
 labors, bow-ever arduous, are withheld from this work of cor- 
 
LEAllN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 143 
 
 ruption. Brilliant talents arc prostituted to this cause, and 
 ^vealth is freely poured out at the shrines of infidelity to 
 further its unhallowed objects. They press it into all the 
 relations of life, social, political, and religious, and, like 
 serpents, stealthily throw their immense coils around the 
 unsuspecting, and bind the souls of their victims with im- 
 mortal woes. It would seem incredible to those who are not 
 familiar with these efforts, upon what a formidable scale the 
 kingdom of darkness is organized over all the civilized world. 
 It seems as though the bottomless pit was billowing up its 
 foulest ingredients from its deep abysses, and pouring them 
 out in thousands of channels, blighting with desolation and 
 death, immortal minds. The very earth groans under ini- 
 quities ! All the infidel works, and licentious novels, and books 
 professing to be scientific, are translated into all the tongues 
 spoken by man, and offered gratuitously to those who will 
 not purchase. I ask then, in view of these facts, can a 
 Christian, identified as he is with all the interests of the 
 Redeemer's cause, be indifferent to these things .'' Not if 
 his heart is right with God — not if he loves his country, and 
 is concerned to transmit to coming posterity the blessings 
 of civil and religious freedom — not if he would be guiltless 
 of the blood of souls in the day of reckoning. And it is 
 gratifying to know that there are many disciples of Christ in 
 the various departments and pursuits of human life, who are 
 ilive to their responsibilities to God and mankind, and who 
 have not only sounded the alarm from the senate chamber, 
 from the bench, and from the pulpit, but whose intellectual 
 
144 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 and moral energies are consecrated to the work of the world's 
 regeneration. There are many occupied in efforts to neutral- 
 ize those demoralizing influences which are flowing through 
 a thousand channels upon society, and to turn back to their 
 fountain those streams of pollution which threaten to flood 
 the land. Blessed be God, that among our statesmen there 
 are those \vho cherish the Christian religion, and who regard 
 virtue and intelligence as the only durable pillars of our 
 Republic. Thanks to Him who disposes the hearts of men, 
 that He has linked the minds of our most prominent citizens 
 with all those great moral enterprises which have for their 
 object the elevation and salvation of man. And should not 
 every disciple of the Son of God put the solemn question to 
 his conscience ; have I done all that is required of me to 
 advance the conquests of the cross ? Am I making such a 
 disposition of my talents, my influence, and my wealth, as 
 will be approved in the day of judgment? Have I done all 
 that I design doing to exalt my Saviour in the earth, and to 
 enlarge his dominion among men? 0! my soul, it was a 
 great ransom which was paid for thee in the groans and the 
 blood of Jesus ; and is it not fit that all thy faculties should 
 cheerfully bend to the work of saving others from guilt and 
 ruin ? Ay, is it not the highest glory and value of life to 
 devote it to that cause which is destined to recover this world 
 from the dominion of sin, and fill it Vvith the knowledge of 
 God? 
 
 It is perhaps in your heart, beloved reader, as it was in the 
 heart of David, to manifest your love to God, and your grati- 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 145 
 
 tiule for his mercies, by building him a temple for (he 
 worship of His name. Or you have purposed to endow 
 some institution, and to enrich the Bible and the Missionary 
 Societies of our land with your legacies ; or you intend to 
 relieve the congregation to which you belong of a heavy 
 pressure which cripples its prosperity ? Whatsoever it may 
 be that you design doing, *• do it with thy might," and do it 
 quickly. In one of our large cities there lived, a few years 
 ago, a gentleman who had been wonderfully prospered by 
 Providence. He had amassed immense wealth, and upon 
 retiring from the scenes of an active business life he prayer- 
 fully considered what disposition he should make of his gains. 
 He was a man who feared God, and gratefully acknowledged 
 his goodness by his many charities to the poor and his 
 frequent contributions to benevolent objects. But he wisely 
 inferred from his own history, that human nature needs 
 discipline if it is to unfold in high-toned moral character ; and 
 while he intended to grant a liberal provision to his heirs, he 
 did not wish to make them indolent, nor assist them in 
 becoming degenerate by the influence of too much wealth. 
 He accordingly resolved to appropriate a considerable portion 
 to various benevolent purposes. The Seamen's Friend Society 
 %vas to receive $5000 ; a fund of $10,000, subject to the 
 control of a number of trustees, to be named in his will, was 
 to assist poor mechanics to set up their business. An orphan 
 asylum was to receive the interest of $5000 ; the Bible 
 Society was put down for $3000; and Home and Foreign 
 Missions each $5000, together with a legacy of some thou- 
 13 
 
146 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY 
 
 sands to the congregation of which he was a member, and 
 with which he had long and pleasantly worshipped. But as 
 he v;as in the enjoyment of excellent health, and not far 
 advanced in years, there seemed to be no pressing necessity 
 for immediately concluding these bequests in a legal manner. 
 Besides this, his wealth was increasing every day at a rate 
 which would justify him, in a few years, in enlarging the 
 amounts of these respective legacies, and perhaps including 
 others in his benefactions. Months elapsed, until almost a 
 year had expired from the time he had disclosed his purposes 
 to a friend, and he continued in his usual health, and was 
 cheerful and happy. One Sabbath morning he came to the 
 sanctuary, and the pastor, with a view to improve the death 
 of a youth who belonged to the congregation, but who had 
 suddenly perished by the explosion of an ill-fated vessel, 
 preached from the text — "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, 
 for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." The 
 uncertainty of life was dwelt upon at considerable length, and 
 enforced by the sudden and sad bereavement of a large circle 
 of friends, and the congregation of one of its members. 
 From the uncertainty of life he drew several impressive 
 lessons of the value of life. And the loss which individuals, 
 the world, and the soul may sustain by delaying that which 
 persons have solemnly determined to do, was forcibly im- 
 pressed upon his audience. " Many", said tlie preacher, 
 "intend to repent, but the work is postponed from day to day 
 for a more convenient season ; and while they delay sickness 
 comes, death comes, and they are hurried away in theii 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 147 
 
 iniquities. Many purpose to discharge some Christian 
 duty next week, or to-morrow, and behold death comes 
 between them and the day fixed, and they go into eternity 
 without accomphshing that which they meant to do before 
 leaving this world." And after this manner he still further 
 illustrated the value of life, and sho.wed what stupendous 
 interests frequently crowd themselves into an hour. As this 
 gentleman was returning home from the church, he was silent 
 and thoughtful. They had scarcely entered his house before 
 he remarked to a friend, " That was an impressive sermon we 
 heard to-day." " Remarkably so," rej)lied the one addressed, 
 "and I hope it will have a good effect upon the young." 
 "And why," said the other, " should it not make a similar 
 impression upon us all } Is not life equally if not more un- 
 certain to those of us more advanced in years ? I, for my 
 part, have deeply felt .the truth of what was said, and some 
 important matters upon which my heart is fixed shall be closed 
 to-morrow.^'' After some further remarks the conversation 
 turned upon other topics, until the friends separated. Upon 
 leaving, the gentleman who had been so much impressed by 
 the discourse said to his friend, " Will you be so kind as to 
 step in to-morrow about twelve o'clock and assist me in 
 making some business arrangements?" " With great plea- 
 sure," replied the other, as he cordially pressed his hand and 
 departed. The day had worn away and the family, were 
 assembled to engage in their evening devotions. The father 
 took his accustomed seat, opened the Bible, and read the 
 nintieth Psalm : " Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place 
 
148 AT THE SEPULCIIllES, WE MAY 
 
 in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, 
 or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even froui 
 everlasting to everlasting thou art God. Thou turnest man to 
 destruction, and sayest, Return, ye children of men. For a 
 thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is 
 passed, and as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away 
 as with a flood — they are as a sleep in the morning; they are 
 like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth and 
 groweth up, in the evening it is cut down and witherelh. For 
 we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we trou- 
 bled. Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins 
 in the light of thy countenance. For all our days are passed 
 av.-ay in thy wrath : we spend our years as a tale that is told. 
 The days of our years are three-score years and ten ; and if by 
 reason of strength they be four-score years, yet is their strength 
 labor and sorrow ; for it is soon cut ofT and we fly away. 
 Who knoweth the power of thine anger ? even according to 
 thy fear ; so is thy wrath. So teach us to number our days, 
 that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Return, O 
 Lord, how long? and let it repent thee concerning thy 
 servants. satisfy us early with thy mercy ; that we may 
 rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad ac- 
 cording to the days in which thou hast afflicted us, 
 and the years wherein we have seen evil. Let thy work 
 appearr unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. 
 And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us ; and 
 establish thou the work of our hands upon us, yea the work 
 of our hands establish thou it." 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 149 
 
 They kneeled down, and the solemn discourse of the 
 morning, and the touching and beautiful picture of human 
 frailty drawn by the Psalmist, had such an influence upon 
 his mind as caused him to pray with unusual fervor. After 
 warm expressions of gratitude for life and all its blessings, 
 and imploring the divine benediction upon his word, and 
 -commending himself and family to the care of a watchful 
 Providence, he concluded with much earnestness and empha- 
 sis in the language of the Psalm ; — " And let the beauty of 
 the Lord our God be upon us ; and establish thou the work 
 of our hands, yea the work of our hands establish thou it." 
 It was the last prayer he ever offered at the family altar. 
 Having retired without any apparent indisposition, all were 
 soon locked in slumbers of sweet repose. At midnight his 
 wife was awakened by a cold pressure upon her face : it was 
 her husband's hand, chilled by death. The next morning we 
 read the following announcement in a paper : " Died sud- 
 denly, on Sunday night, at his residence, the late . 
 
 It is feared that the unexpected and sudden departure of this 
 estimable citizen has deprived a number of benevolent 
 establishments of some valuable legacies which it was his 
 intention to leave." These fears were sadly realized, as we 
 have already seen that the time upon which he had fixed to 
 give his intentions a legal form was twelve hours later than his 
 death. What a solemn illustration does this incident furnish 
 of the value of life ! Here we have a good man whose heart 
 was fixed for years on doing something handsome for the 
 cause of God, and just on the eve of consummating his pur- 
 13* 
 
150 AT THE SEPULCHEES, WE MAY 
 
 poses he dies, \Yithout premonition or time to make his 
 bequests. Who can estimate the loss which those societies 
 sustained, and those persons who would have been blest with 
 their benevolence ! What an amount of misery might not 
 these charities have relieved ! What blessings might have 
 flown from them to the wretched and benighted ! But for 
 this delay, (which in this instance seemed without danger), 
 thousands of Bibles would have gone out on their glorious 
 mission — many orphans would have found a home — many 
 comforts would have been provided for the poor seamen, and 
 thousands of immortal spirits now sitting in the region and 
 shadow of death might rejoice in the light of Christianity, 
 and hereafter mingle in the song of Moses and the Lamb. 
 What a lesson does it convey to the living! Let not death 
 deprive you of your good intentions, while you have the 
 power of embodying theni in good deeds, O, how valuable 
 is life! and how much remains undone forever which men 
 intended to accomplish, just because they do not properly 
 estimate the value, the shortness, and the uncertainty of life ! 
 And in nothing is the evil of this more frequently and sensibly 
 felt, than with the cause of the Redeemer. A cause which 
 should be first, but for which our benefactions are postponed 
 to the closing scenes of life, and therefore in many instances 
 lost to it altogether. Consult such records, or appeal to such 
 testimony as will unfold the purposes of the departed, and 
 you wall find many painful illustrations of this truth. There 
 is a mother who designed to consecrate her child to God in 
 the holy ordinance of baptism, but the duty is deferred for 
 
LEARN THE VALUE OF LIFE. 151 
 
 weeks and months, and she takes ill and dies, and that child 
 grows up without having placed upon it the seal of the cove- 
 nant, and without any bond of union with the visible kingdom 
 of Jesus. There is a father who has long felt it his duty, and 
 had formed the resolution to speak to his offspring about the 
 interests of his soul, but he is suddenly cut off and the duty 
 remains undischarged. There is a neighbor who has deter- 
 mined to use his personal efforts to bring another into the 
 kingdom of Christ, but while he is waiting for more favorable 
 opportunities, one or the other is called to his account. 
 There was not lonir since a vounof man who had felt the 
 operations of the Holy Spirit, and resolved to consecrate 
 himself to the service of God. But as he had in contempla- 
 tion a visit to some friends in another State, he concluded to 
 postpone a public profession of religion until his return — - 
 " It will only be a month," he said ; but death met him on 
 the way, and he went to the grave before the period had 
 expired. Alas, this delaying — what purposes, what hopes 
 are doomed to perish because men do not set a proper value 
 upon the present hour ! Were the sepulchre the goal of our 
 existence as it is of the present life, and did it swallow up 
 and consume all that pertains to the destiny of man, so that 
 there would be no hereafter, then we might trifle with the 
 golden moments that flit by us on swift wing ; but — 
 
 " Life is real, life is earnest, 
 
 And the grave is not its goal ; 
 
 Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 
 
 Was not spoken of the souL" 
 
152 AT THE SEPULCHRES, WE MAY LEARN, ETC. 
 
 No, that soul is immortal, and as there is an eterna. 
 future before us, filled with raptures or woes, it becometh all 
 to set such a value on life as to improve it, that we may 
 be fitted for the exalted destiny of the redeemed, and unite 
 our present vanishing existence with the blessed realities of 
 Life Eternal. 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTH. 
 
 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS THE EVIL OE SIN. 
 
 "The other shape, — 
 If shape it might be call'd — that shape had none, 
 Distinguishable in member, joint or limb ; 
 Or suJastance might be call'd that shadow seem'd ; 
 For each seem'd either; black it stood as night, 
 Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell. 
 And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head, 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 Satan was now at hand ; and from his seat 
 The monster, moving onward, came as fast 
 "With horrid strides; hell trembled as he strode." 
 
 This sublime, but terrible, conception of sin by one of the 
 world's most gifted poets, can scarcely be contemplated with- 
 out feelings of horror. Its dreadful shadow, as it falls upon 
 our path, fills the heart with cold sensations. And yet, 
 ghastly and fear-inspiring as it is, its truthfulness is, alas! too 
 painfully illustrated in the history of the universe and in 
 human experience, to question for a moment the propriety 
 of this representation of that malignant principle which wars 
 ao-ainst the great interests of the ssoul, and which is in violent 
 conflict with all the laws of Jehovah's government. For 
 while the genius of Milton was confessedly great, and his 
 
 (153) 
 
154 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 imaginative powers of such a magnificent cast that all his 
 images are of a gorgeous or gigantic character ; yet no one 
 who has ever allowed his mind to dwell upon the manifold 
 evils of sin, which appear even within the circle of his 
 personal observation, will venture to affirm that this personi- 
 fication of it is overdrawn or too darkly shaded. Its effects 
 are as painful as they are manifest. They are so wide-spread 
 as to cover the earth ; so deep that they billow up in hell ; and 
 so penetrating that they send their writhing influence through 
 all the members and faculties of our being. The illustrious 
 author quoted seemed conscious of his inability to find an 
 object, even within the range swept by his imagination, which 
 would fitly represent it, or give a full and life-like portrait of 
 it ; and, therefore, he labors to combine an assemblage of 
 the most horrible attributes, gathered from the dark and 
 shadowy regions ; and even then are the outlines of the 
 monster so dimly sketched, that he is obscurely seen ; while 
 the conviction is present to the beholder that the reality is 
 still more fearful than the picture. Alas ! what mind, though 
 possessed of the most exalted capacities, could feel itself 
 adequately strong and properly furnished to picture the 
 parent of such a progeny as that with which sin has peopled 
 our world! It is only by a constant variation of the imagery, 
 and by laying under tribute all the objects with which distress, 
 pain, wo, and death are associated, that we learn a few of 
 the many evils of sin. It is in itself an unmixed and 
 unmitigated evil, and tarnishes the glory of every thing 
 possessed of moral excellence with which it comes in con- 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 155 
 
 tact. It is a disorganizing element, which has occasioned a 
 sad breach in the universe of God. It casts indignity upon 
 all the natural and moral perfections of the inhnitely glorious 
 Sovereign. It is at war with His holiness, justice and mercy; 
 and breathes defiance against His omnipotence. It dishonors 
 God in all his relations. As Creator it denies and comes in 
 conflict with His right to the creatures whom He formed. 
 As Legislator it rebels against His laws, and pours contempt 
 upon their authority. And as the Father and Benefactor of 
 the human family, sin has rendered His rightful subjects un- 
 grateful, and implanted in their bosoms enmity instead of 
 filial affection. It has introduced an element of disorder into 
 the Divine government, and marred the glory of the universe. 
 We behold its evil in the fall of " those angels who kept not 
 their first estate, but left their own habitation, and who are 
 reserved in everlasting chains underdarkness unto the judg- 
 ment of the great day." What amazing ruin — what fearful 
 desolation would appal the mind, could it glance over that 
 world where those dwell — 
 
 " Whom the Almighty power 
 Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 To bottomless perdition; there to dwell 
 In adamantine chains and penal fires." 
 
 The ruins of a city constitute a mournful spectacle. To 
 behold its noble palaces, its gorgeous temples, and its 
 magnificent towers all turned into a mass of destruction, is a 
 sight from the contemplation of which we turn with sorrow. 
 For painful, indeed, is it to see that site, where stood ia 
 
156 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 lordly pride the finest specimens of architectural skill, 
 covered with broken columns, partially-consumed gates, 
 fragments of holy altars, and an air of desolation overspread- 
 ing that scene of yesterday's gaiety ; — a desolation deepened 
 by the low moans of the dying storm which kindled the con- 
 flaofration, and the wail of the homeless and friendless, who 
 linger with sad hearts around the smouldering pile which 
 buried their all, and the mournful cooings of the mateless 
 dove, whose brood and companion perished in the general 
 wreck. It is a melancholy employment to contemplate the 
 once beautiful land where shepherds guided their flocks by 
 living streams, and where peace and beauty reigned, and an 
 abundance of good filled all its borders, but which is now 
 swept, and desolated, and scorched by the fire and sword of 
 the ruthless destroyer. But no disasters, however terrible, 
 and no calamities, however dark and withering, that have 
 ever befallen kingdoms, or left their impress upon the fairer 
 portions of this earth, can equal that work which sin wrought 
 on the fields of celestial light. And, however distressing it 
 misfht be to witness the desolations which mark the track of 
 the furious hurricane, or the path of a brutal and wasting 
 army ; it is far more aflfecting and painful to contemplate 
 angelic minds in ruins — to behold those mighty intellects, 
 once sw^eeping in their range of thought over the wonders of 
 the universe, and admiring the unveiled mysteries of Jehovah, 
 now laboring with eternal woes; and those immense capaci- 
 ties which then overflowed with heaven's high raptures, now 
 flaming with the wrath of God. Alas! what a change from 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 157 
 
 glory to shame ; from light to darkness ; from the music of 
 harps to that of chains ; and from exalted themes of praise 
 to piteous groans of anguish ! And yet such are the effects 
 which sin wrought upon those who once moved in cloudless 
 splendor around the eternal throne, and mingled their notes 
 whh the hymns of Cherubim and Seraphim. 
 
 But it is not our province so much to meditate upon the 
 condhion of fallen angels and upon the terrors of perdition, 
 as to look from the sepulchre over the broad earth, and set 
 forth the evils which sin has produced, and is still producing, in 
 the human flimily. No sane person has ever yet attempted to 
 deny the vicious and corrupt state of man. Voltaire, the 
 great enemy of all good, and particularly of Christianity, 
 says in Questions sitr VEncy dope die : " The fall of degener- 
 ate man is the foundation of the theology of all the ancient 
 nations." And the most distinguished sages of antiquity 
 have uniformly recognized the fact of human depravity. In 
 all the systems of religion which have been promulgated in 
 this world, the corruption of the race in its original head has 
 been more or less clearly set forth and acknowledged. 
 Socrates and Plato, Pliny and Cicero, and many others of the 
 illustrious of the distant past, have left traces in their writings 
 of their belief in the fall of man. And that which lias been 
 in all ages painfully felt and dimly shadowed forth by those 
 who were dependent for their knowledge on the deductions 
 of reason, has been clearly revealed in the Bible In that 
 brief record in Genesis of man's first disobedience, we have 
 a true representation of the origin of our corruption. That 
 14 
 
158 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 history needs no vindication ; for the narrative itself is, in the 
 judgment of every impartial and judicious critic, its best 
 defence. It wears neither the air of romance nor the studied 
 guise of imposture. It is characterized by great simplicity ; 
 yet clothed with such a sublime dignity that the statement of 
 Moses constitutes a monument of truth, around which the 
 voluntary testimony of all ages has been poured to corrobo- 
 rate its declarations. For not only has humanity always felt 
 that it was cut loose from tlfe source of its existence, but it 
 has been impelled by the force of internal wretchedness 
 and desolation to make such efforts as its feeble resources 
 would warrant, to restore its union with that invisible Power 
 of life from which it was divorced, and through which alone 
 man could be exalted to that state of happiness for which the 
 soul v.as originally designed, and for which it incessantly 
 yearned. And hence, all the mythologies of Egypt, of 
 India, of Greece — yea, of all the Pagan nations, professed 
 to furnish the means, and point out the way, in which the lost 
 good might be recovered. And it could not be otherwise ; 
 for the fact that a great change had taken place in the condi- 
 tion of the race was indisputable; forasmuch as all men were 
 conscious of those remains in their immortal natures which, 
 like the broken columns of a palace, are witnesses of former 
 greatness and grandeur now manifestly gone ; and this con- 
 viction, in connection with the existence of an evil universal 
 in its ravages and disorders, would necessarily everywhere 
 betyet desires that would mature into efforts for freedom 
 from the dire calamities which rested upon mankind, and the 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 159 
 
 recovery of the lost glory which clothed the inhabitants of 
 Eden. Even now a voice cries out of the ruins of our 
 nature, which, like unto that which seems to issue from the 
 mouldering and wasting frame in the sepulchre, speaks to us 
 of perished strength and faded excellence. Call it what you 
 will, intuition or tradition, the prevailing sentiment of the 
 human family has ever been, and is still, that man came spot- 
 less and perfect from the hands of his Maker. And this con- 
 viction harmonizes most beautifully with the utterances of the 
 inspired volume ; for it declares that " man was created in 
 the image of God." While he remained sinless he retained 
 the Divine image, and stood in unison with the infinite foun- 
 tain of life. When he sinned, that connection was broken, 
 that union dissolved ; and his glory departed ; for the cause 
 which ruptured the bond of his alliance with heaven at the 
 same time struck him with death. From an immortal he 
 became a mortal; and from absolute holiness he passed into 
 thorough depravity. And while his body was doomed to 
 decay and destined to moulder back to the dust out of which 
 it was formed, his intellectual and moral natures experienced 
 the blighting and stunning effects of sin in all their faculties. 
 It threw fetters upon the reasoning powers, so that their labor 
 is arduous and difficult, while their deductions are often 
 circuitous and doubtful. It perverted the judgment, so that 
 its decisions are not made with absolute precision, but are 
 frequently found to be fallacious. It warped and darkened 
 the will, so that it chooses evil rather than good. It crippled 
 the imagination, so that its flights are less adventurous, and 
 
160 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 its ofTspnng less glowing. It cloiuied and enfeebled con- 
 science, so that, like an impotent and chained monarch still 
 seated on the throne, its voice was no longer potent to com- 
 mand submission to its authority within the empire over 
 which it reigned ; and, therefore, the once beautiful and 
 upright being who stood at the head of creation, panoplied 
 with the vestiture of sinless glory, was stripped of moral 
 excellence. 
 
 But the results of his transgression did not terminate in 
 man ; for, as he was the living and connecting link between 
 God and this earth, thus, by the rupture of that mysterious 
 chain which united him to the infinitely glorious Maker of all 
 things, not only he, but everything which occupied an inferior 
 position in the scale of creation, was cut off from its 
 appropriate source of life. For not only was all the posterity 
 of Adam struck with death in him, but all creatures, and all 
 material things, felt the withering influence of the curse. 
 Sin is the transgression of the law ; and when the progenitor 
 of our race broke the law of Paradise, sin entered and passed 
 upon all. The fountain of blessing for this world was then 
 poisoned to its profoundest sources, and had thrown into its 
 depths such a lasting venom, that, ever since, its streams are 
 like unto the waters of Marah, bitter and intolerable ; and so 
 they must remain until they have imparted to them, not the 
 virtue of that tree from which God directed Moses to cut 
 branches to sweeten the bitter well in the desert, but until 
 they are impregnated by the virtue of Him who hung upon 
 the tree of Calvary. The influence of sin is as comprehen- 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. . 161 
 
 sive as the earth, and so crushing and agonizing in its weight, 
 that " the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain 
 together until now. And not only they^ but ourselves also, 
 which have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves 
 groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the 
 redemption of our body." The apostle represents this whole 
 creation, man and all that lies beneath him, as under an 
 oppressive burden, laboring under a painful pressure, and 
 yearning for deliverance from their bondage. The curse 
 of God fell, therefore, upon the offender, and all things allied 
 to him ; and its paralyzing power became as diffusive and 
 pervasive as the subtle electric fluid, and passed through the 
 entire realm that was placed under the dominion of the lord 
 of Eden. So that, while the laws of our physical, intellectual, 
 and moral organizations are known to be seriously aflected 
 by it, material nature and animals have in like manner 
 suffered from the shock to such an extent, that they, with us, 
 still groan in anguish. Sin is that jarring element which 
 often gives a fitful motion to the wheels of nature, and which 
 hns throv,'n her into such deep distress, that the woes with 
 which her heart is laboring are expressed in the wild howl of 
 the tempest and the thunderings of the earthquake. " Cursed 
 be the ground for thy sake," said the Lord to Adam, " in 
 sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life : thorns 
 also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee ; and thou shalt eat 
 the herb of the field. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat 
 bread, till thou return unto the ground ; for out of it wast 
 thou taken ; for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou 
 14* 
 
162 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 return." This narrative of that solemn interview of God with 
 man as a sinner, clearly affirms, that the earth participated in 
 the woes of the curse ; and it is equally just to infer, and it 
 can be as successfully established, that the inferior animated 
 creation lies under the same penalty. There is not the 
 shadow of a doubt, that order, peace, and harmony 
 reigned through the unblighted creation during the innocency 
 of man. Enmity, strife, war, cruelty, and death were not 
 known, for no malignant impulse was yet implanted in any 
 creature. An air of peace and quiet, as beautiful as that 
 which reigns in the holy depths of the midnight heaA'ens 
 above us, pervaded all things. No foul thought, no murder- 
 ous intent, no sinful passion throbbed within the circle of the 
 then glorious and sinless creation. The lion and the lamb, 
 the wolf and the kid then roamed over the fields together, 
 fed upon the same pastures and drank at the same brooks 
 with as much harmony as the stars walk and shine together 
 in the firmament above. Even the serpent, which now so 
 universally inspires dread, was then neither an object of 
 abhorrence nor fear ; forasmuch, as Satan accomplished his 
 ruinous purpose by assuming the form of one of these 
 creatures. But the effects of the fall were immediate and 
 disastrous to the harmony and glory of Paradise. Those 
 creatures that had yielded a cheerful submission to their con- 
 stituted lord then became as rebellious as himself. The 
 animals lost their peaceable dispositions and inherited fierce 
 natures, so as to make them the enemies of man and hostile and 
 destructive to each other. Milton's conception of the sudden 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 163 
 
 and sad effects of eating the forbidden fruit, may therefore be 
 regarded as strictly true. 
 
 " Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat; 
 Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat, 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of wo. 
 That all was lost." 
 
 "All things," says Dr. Chalmers, "were made subject to 
 vanity, i. e. perishableness through the transgression of our 
 first parents, at whose fall a universal blight came upon 
 nature, and she has now become a wreck of what she was — 
 still lovely in many of her aspects, though in sore distress — 
 still majestic and venerable, though a venerable ruin appear- 
 ing as if out of joint, and giving token by her extended 
 deserts, and her wintry frown, and her many fierce and fitful 
 agitations, that some mysterious ailment hath befallen her." 
 And it must be manifest to every careful reader that such 
 was Paul's conception of the wide-spread and agonizing 
 effects of sin, when he penned the eighth chapter of his 
 epistle to the Romans. As all things participated in the 
 blessings which crowned the innocency of man, and the 
 smiles of God gladdened the whole earth, so does the Apostle 
 include the entire work in the range of his vision, when he 
 says, " the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain 
 together until now," and yearneth for deliverance. Based 
 upon this fact, are his subsequent deductions of the future 
 glorification, not only of the children of God, but of nature 
 herself. It is not an arduous task to establish the unhappy 
 and restless state of the human race : for evidences of this 
 
164 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 truth are every where visible in the great variety of 
 methods adopted by them, through which they hope to 
 effect their deliverance from the painful pressure of those 
 woes, of which they are conscious ; but it may not be so easy 
 to perceive this same struggling for life and deliverance from 
 bondage in the animal and material creation. And yet, in 
 the absence of that power needed to give intelligent expres- 
 sions of what may be felt by them, there are, notwithstand- 
 ing, such manifest indications of distress in all things around 
 us, that the attentive observer needs no higher demonstration 
 of the truth that they are laboring for enlargement and free- 
 dom. The eminent divine, Olshausen, says, " The transition 
 of the curse from the conscious creature to the unconscious 
 is no arbitrary one, but one of internal necessity. Accord- 
 ingly as the fall even of the creature commenced with man, 
 so does the restoration of that creature begin also with him. 
 The notion of being subjected to vanity presupposes how- 
 ever naturally a germ of better life, which, bound only by an 
 alien power, is held in bondage. But the existence of this 
 germ of a nobler life in every creature forms the fount of its 
 yearning for redemption." This same thought is very 
 beautifully expressed in the subjoined language of Schubert. 
 ''Even in the things of the world of bodies which surrounds 
 us, there is an element of life, a yearning of what is bound, 
 which, like that Memnon statue, unconsciously makes 
 symphony when the ray touches it from above." Goethe, in 
 one of his epistles, utters a similar sentiment — "When I 
 stand all alone at night in open nature, I feel as though it were 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 165 
 
 a spirit and begged redemption of me. Often have I had the 
 sensation as if nature, in wailing sadness, entreated something 
 of me, so that, not to understand what she longed for cut 
 through my very heart." 
 
 Such feelings are not peculiar to some, but common to all 
 contemplative minds, whose meditations rise in sublimity as 
 they are assisted by those silent, but eloquent, utterances 
 from the awful shrines of nature. For there is a living bond 
 of sympathy which connects us with the outer world ; so 
 that, while we sigh over the dying brute, and feel a pang or 
 drop a tear over the withering flower, our souls throw open 
 their inmost sanctuary to welcome those images of beauty 
 and lessons of instruction which come thronging, like bright 
 spirits from the gorgeous materialism which surrounds us, to 
 seek a home within us. And, as the unseen power of life in 
 the leafless tree, or within the hard coating of the seed in 
 which it is enveloped, bends all its energies to manifest itself 
 in the blossom and the fruit, so is there a struggling in this 
 blighted creation towards that glorification which enters so 
 largely into the predictions of those holy Seers who have 
 described the promised " new heavens and the new earth." 
 This idea runs through the whole Scriptures ; and the promise 
 of its realization at some future day lies in the anguish which 
 now agitates all things. That period is invested with a 
 ravishing beauty; and the effects of that renovation are 
 graphically described by the glowing pen of Isaiah. "The 
 wilderness and the solitary place shall be made glad, and the 
 desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. It shall 
 
166 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing ; 
 the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency 
 of Carmel and Sharon ; they shall see the glory of the Lord, 
 and the excellency of our God." Pointing to that day when 
 this alienated world shall have been recovered to its rightful 
 Sovereign, and Jesus Christ shall have lifted off from this 
 earth the curse which now lies upon it, he exclaims: " The 
 wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie 
 down with the kid ; and the calf' and the young lion, and 
 the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The 
 COW' and the bear shall feed together, and their young ones 
 shall lie down together ; and the lion shall eat straw like an 
 ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the 
 asp, and the weaned child upon the cockatrice's den. They 
 shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain, saith the 
 Lord." This same prophet, in the thirtieth chapter, speaks 
 yet further of the escape from present bondage and the glori- 
 fication of nature in language as lofty as it is beautiful. 
 " Moreover the light of the moon shall be as the light of the 
 sun, and the light of the sun sevenfold as the light of seven 
 days, in the day that the Lord shall bind up the breach of 
 his people, and heal the stroke of their wound." And in 
 another prophecy it is announced : " And the waters of the 
 Dead Sea shall be healed by the waters which shall flow out 
 of the temple ; and by the stream of this water shall grow- 
 all manner of trees, whose leaf shall not wither, and whose 
 fruit shall not decay; they shall yield their fruit monthly, and 
 the leaves thereof shall be for the healino: of the heathen." 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 167 
 
 And again we have ttis pvirpose uttered from the holy 
 oracles, "Behold I create all tilings new." And then is 
 described to us the New Jerusalem, clothed in its inef- 
 fable splendor. It would seem, then, that all things animate 
 and inanimate feel within them the stirrings of a new life, 
 and shall gather upon them of the grandeurs of Calvary ; and 
 thus transformed, constitute a mirror to reflect the glory of 
 God and the Lamb, as also the splendor of the glorified 
 saints. Such is the picture drawn by the pencil of inspira- 
 tion, of the recovered happiness and glory of that vast 
 creation which now groans and travails with us under the 
 curse. 
 
 And if we turn from these objects, which we have had 
 under consideration to ourselves, and to those in a similar 
 condition, and of a like destiny, we find the most conclusive, 
 because consciously painful proofs of the evil of sin. For, 
 on every part of our marvellous organization do we see the 
 impress of a dark calamity which has been entailed upon us ; 
 and on all our faculties are fetters which sin has forged and 
 bound upon them, while all our nerves and fibres quiver 
 and tremble with notes of anguish. Look where you 
 will, in civilized or savage life, to the highly cultivated 
 or the most untutored, in the most refined circles, as also 
 in the lowest grades of human life, and you will find 
 man conscious of his imperfect and unhappy condition, 
 laborinfr for a better state, for a hio^her bliss and a firmer 
 peace than this world can give him. He is annoyed with a 
 restlessness which admits of no quiet ; oppressed with a 
 
1G8 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 burden which no arm of flesh can re/nove, and haunted by a 
 sense of spiritual wretchedness which neither the anxieties 
 and pressures of a busy occupation, nor yet the excitements 
 of company, nor the whirling fascinations of pleasure, can 
 alleviate or displace. Deeply within the soul are stirring 
 those insatiate desires and longinofs which are as deathless as 
 the undying soul, and, like prisoners in chains maddened 
 by their confinement, are ever beating the walls of their 
 dungeon, that if possible they may effect a breach which will 
 give them an exit into that immensity where alone they can 
 range with their wonted sweep, and be satiated with their 
 only aliment, the " fulness " of their infinite and glorious 
 Author. All, all are under the curse — all over this wide 
 earth come up groans and sighs from an exiled race, pining 
 away in a bondage from which they cannot disenthral them- 
 selves. And this condition is not peculiar to the humble or 
 the exalted, to the ignorant or the learned, but is common to 
 all in whom burns an immortal, but fallen spirit. Mere 
 intellectual attainments, external charities, or the rewards of 
 philanthropy, can never answer as a substitute for that moral 
 purity and goodness, destitute of which, the soul enjoys no 
 pleasure. For even the inheritor of the most brilliant talents, 
 and the possessor of the priceless wealth and glowing gems 
 of a world's literature, after he has wandered over the ample 
 fields of learning and culled its choicest flowers, and his eye 
 has ranged over the wide domain of science, is still con- 
 scious of an "inward void," and needs a soul-filling 
 object. Such has been the experience of man, and such the 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 1G9 
 
 tendencies and outcries of our fallen luunanity in all ages of 
 the world. They have appeared under various forms, in 
 which, however, the hope of a future deliverance shone more 
 or less clearly. Such were the dreams of Plato, ^nd such the 
 expectations of that golden age which loomed out before the 
 vision of the ancients while they were encompassed w-ith 
 moral darkness. And to the same origin (that of internal 
 wretchedness) may be traced all those modern projects and 
 schemes which promise perfectibility to the race, or eman- 
 cipation from all the miseries of their bondage, apart from 
 and independently of the influences of the gospel. O ! that 
 those who are pursuing these phantoms, and striving to still 
 those inward yearnings by kneeling at an earthly shrine, 
 would turn to the Holy Word, which offers a balm for 
 the bleeding heart, a blessing for every felt want, and 
 which kindles in the soul of the penitent a hope that forms 
 a channel through which the blessed realities of eternity flow, 
 fresh and full, from the throne of God, filling all his immortal 
 capacities unutterably full of glory. For the hope of the 
 believer is made up of the elements of future blessedness 
 which are inwardly present to him. 
 
 Such is the extent and severity of the curse, that even 
 Christians who rejoice in a conscious deliverance from the 
 guilt and dominion of sin yet groan under a weight of 
 imperfections. Their souls are still the theatre where the 
 powers of life war with the powers of death, and where the 
 spirit and the flesh contend for the mastery. Their hearts 
 are the seat of many sorrows which necessarily cling to 
 15 
 
170 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 our present life. The believer is in a state of humiliation, 
 and not of exaltation — he now bears the cross, but shall wear 
 the crown, "It does not yet appear what we shall be." 
 But we are tending upward to Zion, " and like as the ark in 
 the desert covered with the skins of animals had an unattrac- 
 tive exterior," but underneath those rough externals there 
 reposed the majesty and glory of Deity ; thus also, within 
 that garb of flesh which the believer wears, there lives a soul 
 instinct with divinity that shall one day burst its casement 
 and rise to the presence of God, and flame with a glory more 
 refulgent than that of the sun. And as the path which Jesus 
 trod lay through suffering to glory, we could, as his follow- 
 ers, desire no smoother road ; forasmuch as disciples should 
 contentedly and willingly tread in the footsteps of the Master. 
 Therefore we are children, " and if children, then heirs, heirs 
 of God, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ, if so be that we 
 suffer with him, that we may also be glorified together." 
 The children of God should experience the weakness and 
 decay of all earthly things, that they may not desire a " con- 
 tinuing city here, but seek one which is to come." There 
 are those whose trials are manifold, and whose life is filled 
 up with uninterrupted weakness and pain. Poverty, sickness, 
 and care are sometimes their portion, "for many are the 
 afflictions of the righteous." They are exiles who live yet 
 at a distance from their Father's house ; — pilgrims journeying 
 through a desert land, and sighing for that celestial home 
 \vhere the chosen of all ages meet. They are encompassed 
 with evils, and may suffer reproach and persecution ; for they 
 
THE EVIL OF SIN. 171 
 
 are sometimes neglected and hated, and are made the 
 subjects of derision and scorn. They behold the eifects of 
 sin around them, and. are in sympathy with an oppressed 
 world. They sorrow over those loved ones who are smitten 
 down by death. And as they lay them in the cold grave, it 
 is with groanings for that redemption which shall place 
 them all beyond the reach and power of the bondage of 
 corruption. 
 
 What a mournful spectacle, what a gloomy picture, unrolls 
 itself to the mind as we look abroad from the sepulchre over 
 the desolations which sin has wrought ! It is, indeed, an 
 exhaustless fountain of woes. It has been flowing ever since 
 man opened it in Paradise ; and all have tasted its bitter 
 waters. No tropic sun has been able to dry up its streams ; 
 no frozen north has chilled and bound its channels. No 
 desert sands have swallowed them up ; no mountain barriers 
 have stayed their progress. Its dark current rolls with fear- 
 ful violence over all the earth ; now rising into the loftiest 
 palace, then descending into the lowliest hut, and everywhere 
 quenching the lamps of life. It swept a world's population into 
 eternity, and, when repeopled, drew upon others the devouring 
 wrath of God. It has kept alive from age to age unholy 
 kindling in the bosoms of earthly potentates the lust of passions, 
 power, of gain, and of conquest, and everyv.diere announcing 
 its presence in wars and bloodshed, until the chronicles of 
 earth are burdened with crimes and woes. Ruined cities, 
 desolated countries, and masses of unburied and blenching 
 hum^n skeletons, proclaim the woes which sin has produced. 
 
172 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS 
 
 And when it does not destroy with the fire and the sword, it 
 comes in the " pestilence which walketh in darkness, and in 
 the destruction which wasteth at noonday;" in the famine 
 which devours its miUions, and in numberless diseases which 
 have filled our hearts with grief, and the sepulchres of our 
 departed with their precious forms. But for it these graves 
 would never have been dug, and these tears never would 
 have flowed. But for sin no death-groan would ever have 
 startled the ear of mortals; and this globe would not have 
 become what it now is, a vast charnel-house of corruption. 
 It is this fearful element of ruin that has made man frail as 
 the leaf; that has poisoned the air we breathe, and the water 
 we drink, so that disease rises out of fountains, floats upon 
 the winds, and meets us at every step in the journey of life. 
 Ay, it is this parent of all wo whose existence we have 
 cause to deplore. For all the physical evils to which 
 man is heir — all the social evils which afflict society — all the 
 moral deformities which mar and distort humanity — and all 
 the distresses which throw^ the heart of the vast organism of 
 creation into such anguish as to send its throbbing woes 
 through its immense channels — all these are the fruits of 
 sin. Blinded by its influence, we have only a very par- 
 tial knowledge of its loathsome character. Could we see it 
 as God sees it, and know its work as He knows it, sin would 
 indeed be a monster of frightful aspect. But we see, and 
 know, and feel enough of its blighting power. The many 
 desolate hearths, the faded Edens, and multitudes of weep- 
 ing and breaking hearts around us, proclaim its destructive 
 
' THE EVIL OF SIN. 173 
 
 character. Could we collect the anguish, the tears, and dis- 
 appointed hopes with which it has filled the world, we would 
 shrink appalled from the spectacle. And since it gives birth 
 to all secret sorrows and all public calamities, and has made 
 it necessary for the Holy One to assume our nature that He 
 mioht atone for our ffuilt, and even now inflicts fresh v.ounds 
 in every transgression on the Son of God, while it excites 
 our fears by peopling eternity with alarming torments, shuts 
 up heaven and thrusts down to hell, should we cherish it? 
 Nay, let us loathe it ; let us flee and renounce it, and bear none 
 but its necessary evils, and soften these with the balm of life. 
 Let us not suffer it to enslave us in debasing bondage, or 
 bring us to an unholy grave and an undone eternity ; for if 
 this world, in its ameliorated state by the influences of the 
 work of redemption, still groans, what must be the weight of 
 damnation ? If the curse of sin wrings cries of anguish from 
 a laboring creation, with what crushing force will not the 
 curse of final rejection fall upon the unhappy sinner ! Can 
 thy heart be strong and thy soul endure the weight of eternal 
 woes ? 0, God ! draw us, that we may hasten to Thee 
 for refuge, for peace, and for hope. For within the embraces 
 of thy love we find our true felicity ; and with Thy presence 
 to cheer us, we will press forward through this vale of tears, 
 until our bodies find repose in the grave, and our souls rest 
 in heaven. 
 
 "There shall I bathe my weary soul 
 In sens of heavenly rest ; 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 Across my peaceful breast." 
 
 lo 
 
174 THE SEPULCHRE PROCLAIMS, ETC. 
 
 0, my God ! Thou art merciful, and faithful, and true. 
 Thou hast given this world to Thy Son. He has purchased 
 it by the wealth of His priceless suffering, by His blood, and 
 the offering of His soul. Hasten, then, His universal reign, 
 and the complete redemption of this earth. O, Thou insulted 
 Sovereign ! pity Thy fallen creation. Dry up the fountains of 
 sin ; command its desolating streams back to the abysses of 
 hell, and there bind them in eternal fetters. Stay the foot- 
 steps of the destroyer ; break his terrible spell, and overturn 
 the throne of Iniquity. Multiply and encourage the good ; 
 fill with Thy wisdom and omnipotence all their schemes of 
 mercy, that Thou mayest be recognized as moving in these, 
 that the earth may tremble beneath Thy tread, and thrones 
 and kingdoms melt away before Thy purposes, until the 
 shout of final and complete conquest is rolled around the 
 globe, and ascends and mingles with the notes of the 
 numberless multitude, pealing with the voice often thousand 
 thunders through the universe, " Hallelujah ! for the kingdoms 
 of the earth have become the kingdoms of our Lord and his 
 Christ." 
 
 ! let the cries of our afflicted, yearning humanity pierce 
 Thy heavens. Almighty Father, and join their petitions with 
 those of atoning blood, and bring peace and deliverance to 
 its anguished heart. Yes, hasten the w^orld's redemption! 
 Dawn, O dawn ! thy day of glory ! that the groanings of 
 this travailing creation may be changed into songs of deliver- 
 ance and everlasting praise. 
 
CHAPTER NINTH. 
 
 THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED ADJIONISH 
 US TO BE GENTLE AND KIND TO THE LIVING. 
 
 " Be kind to each other through weal and through wo, 
 For there's many a sorrow for hearts here below ; 
 The storms of this life beat around us in vain, 
 If we're kind to each other in jsleasure and pain." 
 
 Beautiful is the twinkling star that lonely shines far out 
 in the firmament of a dark night, and charming that flower 
 which blooms amid the wide-spread waste of desert sands. 
 In the eyes of the observer the brilliancy of the one is 
 augmented by the darkness which surrrounds it ; and the 
 loveliness of the other enhanced by the absence of all things 
 else fitted to produce delight. And thus, also, in this world 
 of clashing schemes and jarring interests, of disappointments 
 and sorrows, of blighted hopes and broken hearts, there is 
 nothing which more successfully relieves the gloom and 
 softens the woes of life than kindness. That star in the 
 canopy of heaven is not so beautiful, nor is that lone flower 
 in that arid scene so lovely, as a gentle spirit. A spirit that 
 glows with goodness, thrills in all its fibres with kind inten- 
 tions, and is ever animated with purposes of mercy, is the first- 
 
 (175) 
 
176 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING, 
 
 born of holy love. It is born from heaven, and is attired 
 and sent on its mission by Him who is love. Behold how it 
 moves about with cherub wings, dropping upon the desert 
 spots of life those kindnesses and blessings which, like 
 fragrant flowers, exhale their aroma on the air we breathe. 
 It is a bright visitant to dark and desolate homes, mingling 
 its tears with wretchedness, illumining the despairing and 
 desponding with smiles of pity, and breathing into downcast 
 hearts the energies of hope. May this celestial spirit find a 
 home in every bosom, that we may with its gentle influence 
 smooth for each other the asperities of life. 
 
 Many are the blessings of social life and rich and varied 
 are its enjoyments, but it has also its trials, and its joys are 
 often embittered by disappointments and crosses. A friend 
 is unfaithful, the family is afflicted, some unkind gossip 
 reaches our ear and chafes our spirit, or envy shoots a dart 
 to wound our reputation. Vexations and annoyances in one 
 form or another meet us at every step and turn in life, so that 
 no palace nor cottage, no home nor heart may be found, where 
 the cares that befall us do not make a portion of our life a 
 weariness. And 0, how reviving to the tried and afflicted 
 is the solace which a gentle spirit imparts ; and how soothing 
 to an anguished mind are words of kindness from a friend ! 
 If the world is dark with frowns, and we tread a thorny road, 
 we regard none of these, so that a few kind hearts beat 
 around us, and a few gentle spirits bless us with their minis- 
 trations. Human nature is susceptible of high cultivation ; 
 but whatever excellencies it may possess, among aU its visible 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 177 
 
 virtues, there are none which adorn it with a lovelier aspect 
 than gentleness and kindness. These shed a lustre over all 
 other traits and invest the whole character with attractive 
 charms ; for, wherever found, they impart grace and beauty. 
 Acts of kindness are the offspring of a gentle spirit. They 
 are seeds of blessing which have always rewarded the sower 
 W'ith an abundant harvest. There are many sources from 
 which we may learn the value of gentleness and kindness, 
 and there are numerous and weighty considerations which 
 might be urged for their cultivation. They are clothed with 
 an excellence which must commend them to our understand- 
 ings, and which never fails to win our hearts. What are the 
 objects which we most admire in the world around us ? 
 Assuredly those things which are clothed with an air of 
 gentleness. The unchained hurricane may inspire feelings 
 of terror as the eye runs along the desolations that mark its 
 track ; but it is the soft breeze, which soothes the fevered 
 invalid and sustains the man of toil, that we love. The 
 traveller, oppressed by a burning sun, and toiling his slow 
 progress through hot sands, dreads the simoom ; but is glad- 
 dened and refreshed, while his soul swells with emotions of 
 delight, as the gentle zephyr fans him, as with angel wings, 
 while he reposes in the shadow of a great rock. There is a 
 wild grandeur in the dashing and foaming torrent: as if 
 incensed by the obstruction it meets in those rocky barriers 
 over which its course leads, it leaps angrily onward until it 
 falls over the frightful precipice in broken masses ; but it is 
 only beautiful when those waters pass out from that whirl- 
 
ITO KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 pool and form themselves into a river that flows quietly and 
 placidly from that scene of confusion, and winds through 
 smiling valleys reflecting the glory of the setting sun, and 
 adding to the tranquillity which reigns at evening over the 
 landscape. It is when the war of elements is hushed, and 
 the tempest has rolled off its dark chariots, and the lightnings 
 on the distant horizon are flashing their retreat, that we con- 
 template with pleasure the spangled heavens. The starry 
 firmament in the midnight stillness, when the music of the 
 spheres charms the ear of the spirit, causes our thoughts and 
 aspirations to rise on angel wings to yondr-r fields of light, 
 and carries our affections within that world of glory where sits 
 enthroned the infinite Ruler of the universe ; and the soul 
 mingles in the sublime worship above, and bends in profound 
 adoration with the innumerable throng around the throne of 
 eternal love. It is the quiet landscape on which the light of 
 day gradually melts away into the twilight ; when the bleating 
 of lambs, and the lowing of kine, are dying upon the air ; and 
 all the noises of a restless world are blending into the repose 
 of evening; and tlie gentle brook warbles its lonely and 
 plaintive notes ; it is then that the scene kindles within us the 
 sweetest emotions, because in unison with the rest of this 
 laboring world. It is the gentleness which characterizes the 
 revolutions of the heavenly bodies, and the silent but mighty 
 operations of nature, which impart to them their loftiest 
 grandeur and highest glory. It is not nature in war, but 
 nature in repose, that we love. There is gentleness in the 
 descending sunbeam and in the falling shower. Softly does 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 179 
 
 the dew distil upon the earth, and silently is the work 
 of those laws accomplished which robe the forest in iis 
 foliage, and the field in its harvests. And within the social 
 circle we are most frequently and irresistibly drawn into the 
 society of those of our associates and friends who are of a 
 meek and quiet spirit ; and for a long and prosperous friend- 
 ship none are so well qualified to crown it with blessings ; 
 forasmuch as kindness and gentleness are jewels which 
 change and age do not dim. And while we cheerfully yield 
 our admiration to the objects in which they are found, there 
 are numberless reasons which should induce us to labor for 
 their possession. Behold that mother whose life is character- 
 ized by gentleness! what an air of peace she sheds over the 
 family circle. Its moulding power is felt by the spirit of 
 her husband ; the stern and severe features of his character 
 are softened, and his mind acts "with a new force in all 
 the walks of business. And upon the pliable nature of her 
 children the image of her lovely spirit forms itself, and shows 
 all its interesting features in their looks, language, and 
 behaviour ; and the whole family becomes noted for its 
 amiability ; for all their actions are cast in the same mould of 
 kindness. 
 
 But it is time to inquire as to the manner in which the 
 sepulchre becomes a teacher of gentleness and kindness. 
 There is perhap.~ no instructor that can so impressively set 
 forth their value, and none in whose presence we feel so 
 sensibly the importance of such a course of conduct towards 
 our brethren of mankind, that, when they leave this world, 
 
180 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 we have notliing of harshness towards them with which 
 to reproach ourselves. ! what unavaiUng regrets are 
 sometimes uttered over the dead, and what burning tears 
 and lamentations are sometimes poured around theii 
 tombs ! Memory is never more active nor more faithful in 
 calling up'past events, than at the graves of our cherished 
 ones. All that we have ever done, or said, to grieve or 
 afflict a parent, a friend, or a child, will start up before the 
 mind like a frightful and accusing spectre. Even intended 
 wrongs, which were never consummated, are remembered 
 with bitterness of heart. Bitter are the tears, and touchingly 
 painful the grief of that youth, whose waywardness pierced 
 the heart of an affectionate parent, " and brought his gray 
 hairs with sorrow to the grave." It was with a vile hand 
 that he broke those golden cords by which a mother's efforts 
 and a mother's prayers had bound his infant soul to virtue ; 
 and, contrary to her example, and in opposition to her 
 instructions, he threw the pearl of price into the dust. Or it 
 may have been a companion, a friend, or a child, to whom a 
 mysterious Providence appointed a painful and protracted 
 affliction, and designed you as the kind attendant and 
 ministering spirit of that declining one. In such an office 
 human nature soon grows weary and impatient of its confine- 
 ment to the functions of tliose who nurse the afflicted ; and 
 if, as it frequently happens, the patient becomes restless and 
 peevish under his multiform sufferings, he may increase the 
 annoyance of the attendant, until it manifests itself in a 
 weary look, and in marked reluctance in the discharge of his 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 181 
 
 duty. As an illustration, I may here give the history of a 
 young lady who detailed her own experience in such a case 
 to a friend, from whom she sought comfort. Her mother 
 was called to pass through along and painful aflliiction before 
 she died. The daughter was remarkably kind and affection- 
 ate, and by day and by night ministered to her wants. The 
 sliohiest couo;h or o-roan of her mother would awaken her, 
 and instantly bring her to the couch of her sick parent. But, 
 wearied with long watchings, her own health ga\e way, and 
 she permitted thoughts of her hard condition to rise and 
 strengthen in her mind, until they assailed and overthrew her 
 patience. She had laid down to find relief in sleep from the 
 feelings which clouded her heart ; and shoilly after, having 
 fallen into a troubled slumber, the voice of the afllicted one 
 faintly called for a glass of water. She felt irritated as she 
 rose ; and, although she uttered not a word, her looks 
 betrayed her feelings as the light shone fully in her face ; and 
 the feelings depicted in that countenance put gall and worm- 
 wood into that cup of water, and crushed the heart that 
 fondly loved her — and it stood pulseless that moment. The 
 revulsion of that daughter's feelings was sudden and terrible, 
 while it swept with desolating power over her soul. In vain 
 she sobbed and shrieked ; in vain did she chafe those icy 
 hands ; in vain she bathed those cold temples with her liot 
 tears. " !" she cried. " for one word of pardon — ! (wr 
 one forgiving look from my dear mother!" but those lips 
 were sealed in death, and those eyes were closed forever. 
 " O ! sir," she said to the friend to whom she related the 
 16 
 
182 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 incident, " this sorrow lias reached through all my life. The 
 memory of that hour throws its dark shadow over every 
 bright scene, and casts its bitter ingredients into all the 
 streams of my comfort. Years have passed away ; but that 
 unkind look which broke my mother's heart rankles as a 
 thorn in my soul, and will cause my heart to bleed until I 
 obtain her forgiveness in heaven." ^ 
 
 A favorite writer, whose every intellectual offspring gloM'S and 
 dazzles, holds the following language in reference to the grave : 
 " Who can look down upon the grave even of an enemy, 
 and not feel a compunctious throb that ever he should have 
 warred with the poor handful of earth that lies mouldering 
 before him!" "But the grave of those we loved — what a 
 place for meditation !" "Ay, go to the grave of buried love, 
 and meditate! There settle the accounts with thy conscience 
 for every past benefit unrequited, every past endearment 
 unregarded, of that departed being who can never, never 
 return to be soothed by thy contrition." 
 
 Some years ago I knew a beautiful young lady, who was 
 delicately reared and warmly cherished by a highly respect- 
 able circle of affectionate friends. She was gifted with rare 
 intellectual powers, with refined sensibilities, and these 
 crowned with that charming amiability which a gentle 
 spirit imparts to a lofty soul ; and all were canopied by a 
 person of extraordinary beauty. Like a delicate flower that 
 blooms and exhales its fragrance upon the air under the 
 wooing influences of a sunny clime, and that would shrink 
 instinctively and wither from the first breath of cold, sc v.?s 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 183 
 
 my young friend brilliant and beautiful, but so tender that a 
 frowning look would bathe her in tears. She was amiable 
 and confiding as a child. Open in her manners, ardent and 
 innocent in her feelings, no dark suspicion of the integrity of 
 others entered her soul. And, thus constituted, she measured 
 others by her own guileless nature, and believed them to be 
 upright and true as herself; and having never been deceived, 
 she thought the intentions of her suitor were as holy as those 
 which reposed in her own bosom. She was wooed and won 
 by a man of some talent, yet her inferior in intellectual 
 strength, and supremely selfish ; who but plucked the lovely 
 flower from the parent stem, then cast it aside to wither. 
 Passionately did she love him ; and fondly did the tendrils 
 of her affections twine around the spirit of him who should 
 have been to her what the oak is to the vine, a shelter from 
 the heat, and a support in the storm. But a nature so gross 
 as his was ill adapted to one of fine texture ; neither w^as he 
 capable of appreciating a creature so lovely ; and he grew 
 cold and selfish — his looks, words, and actions became 
 harshly repulsive, and fell like mildew upon her heart, so 
 that, instead of being attracted by kindness, she shrank under 
 his scowl like a timid fawn. She received not those little 
 attentions and approving smiles which are the dew and sun- 
 shine to the soul of a loving wife. She was seldom seen in 
 those little gatherings where the husband was found ; and 
 when she walked, it was alone and without the stroncj staff 
 upon which she had leaned, butl which had pierced her 
 heart. And yet she was meek ;:nd uncomplaining; no 
 
184 KINDNESS TO THE LIVINtt. 
 
 reproachful look nor unkind word escaped her; "but like 
 the pierced dove which hides her Nvounds with her snowy 
 wings," so did she conceal her heart-sorrow from all but a 
 few friends. She knew that the blow which shattered 
 her heart must soon terminate her sorrows ; and here was her 
 only comfort — the hope of deliverance from this bondage. 
 She had a mother and Saviour in heaven, and she knew that 
 they loved her; and there too, perhaps, might he whom she 
 still adored, but under whose neglect she was pining away, 
 be possessed of a gentler nature. The Lord, to whom alone 
 she told all her sorrows, had pity upon her, and in the pleni- 
 tude of His compassion, sent an angel to break her fetters 
 and set the fair prisoner free. A few months' work of a 
 gentle disease "broke the golden bowl, and loosened the 
 silver chord, and broke the pitcher at the fountain. Her 
 death was gentle and beautiful as her life had been ; and the 
 transactions of that parting scene were fraught with keen 
 anguish to the heart that had deceived her. And how^ must 
 the recollection of those wrongs which blighted one of the 
 fairest daughters of earth oppress the mind of her betrayer, 
 if there still lingers within it some measure of sensibility ! 
 Who would, for ten thousand worlds, have those dark reflec- 
 tions which must throng around his brain, and crawl like 
 scorpions and stinging adders around his conscience in the 
 midnight hour — that hour during which a mysterious Power 
 so often brings about a resurrection of our sins, and places 
 them as accusers before the mind! Would that we could 
 believe this to be an isolated case ! but, could we see what 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 185 
 
 the eye above us sees, alas! how many would we behold 
 withering like delicate flowers under intentional or uninten- 
 tional neglect on the part of those who have vowed to cherisli 
 and love them! And, oh! if there be a crime which more 
 especially merits the frown of heaven and the reprobation of 
 mankind than other wrongs, it is that of harshness and un- 
 kindness to a sensitive and gentle wife. My soul has no 
 compassion, much less respect, for one who is so brutal in 
 his feelings, and so debased in his nature, as to enable him, 
 by scowls and reproachful words to send from his presence 
 the heart that idolizes him, tremblino; with fear and bleedinsj 
 with anguish. A woman of fine sensibilities and quick per- 
 ceptions is always uncomplaining, even when she feels all 
 this ; for such is the weight of her wrongs that they find 
 expression only in secret tears, while they form that deep 
 sorrow which settles with all the fixedness and gloom of des- 
 pair upon her soul. And even when thrown within the 
 excitements of the gay circle, and she participates in social 
 amusements, there is a tinge of sadness in her eye, and a 
 languor in her smile, that reveal a deeply-seated heart-sorrow. 
 It is a dictate of wisdom, if nothing more, to shun the 
 oppressor of woman, and to beware of him as we would of 
 the wily serpent. If we have lost friends whose graves are 
 not yet dug, and who once lived within our inmost heart, 
 but who most of all others abused our confidence and out- 
 raged our feelings, we would certainly reckon as first those 
 who tyrannized over a delicate woman and crushed a gentle 
 spirit by unkindness ; for we hold it to be an incontrovertible 
 16* 
 
186 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 truth that the heart that is false in the home circle, and while 
 it throbs against a bosom of purity, is false everywhere 
 else. But we hope that there are few such instances, 
 in comparison with the many who know how to illumine 
 their homes with kindness, and under whose fostering 
 care the souls of those gentle beings with whose destiny 
 their own and that of their children is linked, are light and 
 joyous, and pour forth from those exhaustless fountains of 
 woman's affection that wealth of love which strengthens and 
 beautifies the nature of man, animates him with unconquer- 
 able energy for the race of life, gives birth to high resolves, 
 and fills his soul with that quiet, deep, and abiding happi- 
 ness which no other object except a gentle and beautiful 
 wife can bestow outside of heaven. And all those who can 
 appreciate her worth, and are cheered by her presence, and 
 sustained by the energy of her love, will respond to the 
 sentiment as though it were uttered out of their own 
 hearts, that is so happily and elegantly expressed by a gifted 
 poet : — 
 
 "Feel'st thou no joy, no quiet happiness, 
 No soothing sense of satisfaction, in 
 Loving and being loved? Is there no weight 
 Removed from the heart, in knowing there is one 
 To share all, to bear all with thee ? To soothe grief, 
 Yea, to soften away its human pain 
 By a superior love, the cup to temper 
 With words of consolation and sweet hope. 
 That even its very bitterness shall seem sweet. 
 Forgotten in the love that offers it!" 
 
 As another illustration of the painful regrets which are 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 187 
 
 sometimes induced by the consciousness of having acted 
 unkindly towards those who are near and dear to us, I may 
 mention some incidents in the life of a young man with \Yhora 
 I am personally acquainted, and who has not yet forgiven 
 himself for acting in opposition to the expressed wishes 
 of honored parents. He was the youngest of an ancient and 
 excellent family, and as fondly cherished by an aged father 
 and mother, as Jacob loved Joseph. But in common with 
 other young men who have been reared in fashionable life, 
 and in affluent circumstances, he felt those stirrings for 
 adventure and distinction within him which invariably beo-et 
 that restlessness of spirit which so frequently issues in a 
 wandering life. As these fires were slowly burning and 
 occasionally flashing forth in expressions of hope for 
 enlargement, they were suddenly fanned into irrepressible 
 power by the adventures and reported successes of those who 
 had abandoned their homes and gone to the golden land. 
 He became restive under the family restraints, and impatient 
 under the gentle rule of a worthy, but indulgent father. He 
 longed for a larger freedom, and a more untrammelled inde- 
 pendence. The venerable patriarch expostulated with his 
 son, when he uttered his determination to go to the far-off 
 land. He drew a vivid picture of the privations and suffer- 
 ings which those had endured whose bones were then 
 bleaching somewhere in the pathless wilds, where they had 
 fallen while on their way to the country whither he wished to 
 go ; and the perils of body and of soul to which he would 
 be exposed, away from the influences of the sanctuary and the 
 
188 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 pleasant restraints of home. He begged him to consider the 
 pain he would occasion to them all if he persisted in his 
 determination to sunder those ties which bound him to those 
 who gave him birth. And, softening as he proceeded, he 
 continued, "My son, why not settle down upon your farm, 
 and live near your brothers and sisters, so that when you are 
 sick we may be near to comfort you, or in distress w^e may 
 have the power to minister to your wants. Look upon 
 me and your mother — we have travelled far in the race 
 of life, the infirmities of age are fast gathering upon us, and 
 our pilgrimage is drawing to a close. Leave us not to go 
 down into the valley of death unattended by you. ! permit 
 our eyes to rest their last look upon you, the child of our old 
 age. At least, wait until we shall sleep with our fathers, 
 before you carry your purpose into effect." But the sunny 
 land, with its rivers flowing with the sparkling dust, was 
 continually floating before his excited vision, and charmed 
 his heart away. He had heard of the ample treasures which 
 men amassed in a few days ; and in his dreams by night he 
 saw the brilliant ore spread out at his feet and waiting his 
 appropriation of it. His imagination threw its bewitching 
 charms around the pomp, splendor, and honor which large 
 wealth can purchase ; and the future rose before his mind 
 clothed in the most gorgeous hues, till he resolved to break 
 away from every consideration which had been urged, and 
 go in pursuit of the coveted good. And he did go ; neither 
 the remonstrances nor tears of his parents, and a large circle 
 of friends, could detain him. He dashed every tender 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 189 
 
 recollection from his mind, quieted bis heart to every mis- 
 giving, and nerved his soul to brave every form of danger 
 that lay between him and the object he loved. Wearily and 
 sadly did those aged ones spend the evening of their life. 
 And often through the \vatches of the night there would 
 break forth from their pillow ; — " ! my son, my son — ! 
 my God, bring back our child." Others, kind and faithful, 
 strove to comfort them ; but their thoughts seemed to wander 
 continually after the absent one. The time of their departure 
 arrived, but he was not there to receive their blessing ; and 
 their dying breath was spent in supplications to the good 
 Shepherd that He might fold their straying lamb. The 
 officiating clergyman, at the funeral of the fother, begged a 
 covenant-keeping God to remember the absent son, and to bless 
 this dispensation of Providence to his soul ; and many other 
 hearts were laboring whh heaven for the young man's salvation; 
 and He who has respect to "the effectual fervent prayer of 
 the righteous," heard those petitions and reclaimed that son. 
 It was after a hard day's toil, on the evening of the 
 day on which his father was buried, that that young man 
 threw himself beneath a branching tree to repose for the 
 night. While his eyes looked up through a quiet sky, and 
 peered into the starlight firmament above, suddenly there 
 flashed upon his memory a remark which his distant father 
 had made to him when a little boy, and which had been long 
 forgotten until recalled that moment. One evening as they were 
 sitting in the open air the son innocently asked, " Father, how 
 can the stars shine every night ?" He said, " My son, God gives 
 
190 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 them light ; and, if you are a good boy, you will one day 
 become more beautiful and bright than yonder stars." The 
 recollection of this incident started a train of reflections which 
 gathered within their range the endearments of home, his 
 fond parents, and his own ingratitude and disobedience ; and 
 his heart smote him, and all the desolation and gloom of a 
 guilty soul came upon him, so that he wrestled alone with 
 God in prayer until the dawn of a new day was breaking 
 upon the world, when also the light of a reconciled Saviour's 
 countenance broke upon his soul, and he leaped from the 
 earth with the first exclamations of his new-born spirit ; " My 
 father! my mother! I will fly to their feet!" And he 
 did fly. Having hastily made the necessary preparations, he 
 started for home. But, alas for our young friend, on the 
 very day of his arrival, and only a few hours previous to his 
 return, the last parent had been committed to the grave. As 
 he rushed into the ancient mansion, the weeping and sol)bing 
 circle of brothers and sisters told him that he was too late. 
 Where is my father? my mother? not dead? They could 
 only })oint to the village graveyard, where they had laid them. 
 And to their graves he flew, and there, prostrate on their 
 newly-made sepulchres, he poured forth most touching and 
 piteous lamentations. "O! that these ashes might speak a 
 forgiving word ! O ! that they knew that their disobedient 
 son weeps tears of penitence upon their graves!" And 
 although he has been eminently successful in his efforts 
 to acquire wealth, and enjoys the confidence and esteem of a 
 large circle of friends, his unkindness to those who so fondly 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 191 
 
 cherished him, has tinged with a melancholy gloom all his 
 possessions, and imprinted on his brow a sadness so deep, 
 that no sunlight of earthly prosperity will ever drive it away. 
 These sketches, drawn from incidents in real life, may suffice 
 to show the importance of a gentle and kind behaviour 
 towards all with whom we mingle, and with whom we are 
 associated in the various relations of life. 
 
 Should these pages fall under the eye of a youth who has 
 broken through all those tender ties and affectionate endear- 
 ments of home, and gone out upon a wild and sinful career, 
 and for whom a sorrowing parent still mourns and prays, let 
 me affectionately urge him to hasten to the feet of that long- 
 neglected and injured parent, and seek forgiveness, and 
 amend his life ; for the curse of heaven rests with withering 
 })ower upon filial disobedience. Whatever parents may 
 endure in the shape of painful calamities, nothing is so crush- 
 ino- and desolatins as the conviction that all their anxieties 
 and labors for a beloved child are unrequited ; while it is the 
 extreme of baseness to despise their warnings, and pour con- 
 tempt upon their instructions ; for this is to trample on their 
 hearts and then mock their pain. Or if my reader is a 
 daughter that was undutiful, or a husband or a wife that was 
 unfaithful, let them remember that every wrong inflicted upon 
 a human being carries within it a reciprocal force, which 
 becomes the more terrible the longer it is in striking with its 
 reacting power the heart from which it sprung; and let them 
 hasten to the bleeding spirit of the injured one, and soothe 
 it with tears of repentance. For it is far better that such 
 
192 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 should submit to the most humiliating confessions, than per- 
 mit the opportunity of seeking pardon to pass away, and 
 utter their fruitless regrets over the dust of the injured. 
 
 But in giving a more positive form to the discussion of this 
 subject, I will yet add, that this lesson of -kindness to the 
 living which the sepulchre suggests is abundantly enforced, 
 and its importance successfully established, by the intimations 
 of Providence, the example of Jesus, and the expressed 
 declarations of Heaven. It is the dictate of wisdom always to 
 consult the teachings of Providence, and to copy from the ex- 
 amples of its honored instruments. And the high estimation in 
 which God holds such a disposition maybe inferred from the 
 fad that the most distinguished persons that ever lived, and 
 who were sent by Him upon the most difficult and important 
 missions into our world, were remarkable for their gentleness. 
 Moses, the illustrious leader and lawgiver of the Hebrews, was 
 noted for his quiet spirit. How calmly and majestically does he 
 stand out to our view on those occasions when encompassed 
 by a heated and clamorous multitude, w-hose insults and re- 
 proaches were poured upon his head ! How great is his 
 forbearance and meekness, while he listens to their complaints 
 and unreasonable demands ! Whh what ardent affection 
 must his heart have yearned over that ungrateful people, when 
 he appealed so touchingly to Jehovah to spare them, and 
 rather blot him from existence than not preserve that nation 
 which was the ordained instrumentality through which the 
 groat purposes of Divine mercy were to be unfalded, and the 
 constituted channel through which the blessings of redemp- 
 tion were to flow out upon a lost world ! 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 193 
 
 Our blessed Saviour, also, was gentle and kind. Every- 
 thing connected with His incarnation, His life. His death, and 
 ascension to heaven, wears an aspect of gentleness. The 
 Kinp" of Kings, whose advent might have been made under 
 the most imposing circumstances, with millions of angels, 
 all dazzling with light, and heralding his descent to our earth 
 came gently ; not with the pomp and grandeur of universal 
 empire didst Thou come, adorable Redeemer! 
 
 " Tlinu wast born of woman ; thou didst come 
 Holiest ! to this world of sin and gloom, 
 Not in thy dread omnipotent array ; 
 
 And not by thunder strow'd 
 
 Was thy tempestuous road ; 
 Nor indignation burned before thee on thy way. 
 
 But thee a soft and naked child, 
 
 Thy mother undefiled, 
 
 In the rude manger laid to rest 
 
 From off her vii-gin breast. 
 
 The heavens were not commanded to prepare 
 
 A gorgeous canopy of golden air, 
 Nor stoop'd their lamps th' enthroned fires on high ; 
 
 A single silent star 
 
 Came wand'ring from afar, 
 Gliding uncheck'd and calm along the liquid sky ; 
 
 The Eastern sages leading on. 
 
 As at a kingly throne. 
 
 To lay their gold and odors sweet 
 
 Before thy infant feet. 
 
 And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand 
 
 With devastation in thy red right hand. 
 Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew ; 
 
 But thou didst haste to meet 
 
 Thy mother's coming feet. 
 And bear the words of peace unto the faithful few ; 
 
 Then calmly, slowly, didst thou rise 
 
 Into thy native skies ; 
 
 Thy human form dissolved on high, 
 17 In its own radiancy." 
 
194 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 From the period of his birth to the startling scenes of 
 crucifixion — from Bethlehem to Calvary — we have exhibited 
 for our admiration a life of unbroken gentleness. His whole 
 career was so beautiful with goodness, so replete with all that 
 commands the homage of the mind, so sublime and 
 unearthly, that the skeptical Rousseau, after he had finished 
 reading the Saviour's life, uttered these memorable words : 
 " Can he who is the subject of this history be himself a mere 
 man ? Was his the tone of an enthusiast, or an ambitious 
 sectary ? What sweetness ! What purity in his manners ! 
 What an affectino: gracefulness in his instructions ! What 
 sublimity in his maxims ! What wisdom in his discourses ! 
 How great the command over his passions! Where is the 
 man, where the philosopher., who could so live, suffer, and 
 die without weakness and without ostentation ! If the life 
 and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the life and 
 death of Jesus were those of a God." 
 
 That God highly values these traits in the character of his 
 children is manifest from the many admonitions in his Word 
 to be meek, courteous, gentle, and kind. Christians are 
 exhorted to walk " with all lowliness and meekness, with 
 long suffering, forbearing one another in love. Endeavoring 
 to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." " Let 
 all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil- 
 speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. And be 
 ye kind one to another; tender-hearted, forgiving one another 
 even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you." "Bear 
 ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 195 
 
 And the law of Christ is a law of love or kindness. The 
 Lord has also given many gracious promises to those who 
 cultivate such a spirit. " He will beautify the meek with 
 salvation." "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the 
 earth" " Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be 
 called the children of God." These exhortations might be 
 multiplied to almost any extent, clearly showing what the 
 Apostle Paul declares, " That a meek and quiet spirit is in 
 the sight of God an ornament of great price." 
 
 And if there were no commands or laws in the Holy Word 
 bearing on this subject, the influence of kindness is so 
 obviously blessed, as to teach all men the importance of its 
 uniform practice. The person who deals gently with all who 
 come within the circle of his friendship, is amply compen- 
 sated in the happiness he derives from making others happy. 
 The sentiment in that popular song — " Be kind to the loved 
 ones at home," is as just as it is beautiful. And never do 
 we feel it so impressively, as when one of those " loved 
 ones " is removed by death, and we are called to follow his 
 remains to the silent grave. There by the sepulchre we shall 
 rejoice even in our sorrow, if the testimony of our conscience 
 assures us that we have faithfully and kindly discharged the 
 offices of friendship and affection towards the departed. It 
 will be an exercise that richly repays, often to examine our 
 conduct amid the endearing relations of home, in the light of 
 that solemn hour when all earthly ties shall be sundered ; 
 and to order all our actions in siglit of the open grave whither 
 we, and those around us, are going ; that, to the distress w'hich 
 
196 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 will then wring our hearts, there may not be added the 
 bitterest of all reflections, that we wounded by unkindness the 
 friend we mourn. In all the relations of life should we strive 
 to exhibit a quiet disposition and a kind bearing towards our 
 fellow-creatures. In the family, every heart should throb 
 with kindness. The domestic circle may sometimes become 
 a scene of trials and sufferings. Afflictions and misfortunes 
 may fall upon us, or overtake those we love, and obscure 
 our prospects ; but however painful such visitations are, they 
 are never intolerable while the light of gentle spirits illumines 
 the home. And if some member of the household is smitten 
 with a painful malady, which is slowly consuming his 
 strength, and working its way onward to the citadel of life, 
 while it induces a complaining disposition or fretfulness of 
 spirit in the sufferer, still it is our duty to bear with him 
 patiently, and to minister with cheerfulness to his increasing 
 wants. And if days and nights wear heavily away in our 
 watchings by the sick-bed, yet should we betray no impa- 
 tience ; for it will be a precious consolation when weeping 
 over the lifeless form, to know that we fondly cherished him 
 to the last. 
 
 The same spirit should accompany us into all the other 
 walks of social beings. And as gentleness diffuses itself over 
 society, it will displace suspicion and distrust, those canker- 
 worms that sap the life and purity of communities where they 
 exist, while it restores and strengthens confidence between 
 men. It is also closely allied to a spirit of disinterested 
 benevolence, and therefore raises man above the narrow 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING, 197 
 
 enclosures of sectionalism and sectarianism, and prompts him 
 to such actions as will diffuse their blessings far and wide. 
 And such a disposition will incline us to treat tenderly those 
 unfortunate poor, who call at our doors for a morsel of bread, 
 or a little pecuniary aid. If you would be " eyes to the 
 blind, and feet to the lame;" if the widow and the orphan 
 are to find a valuable friend in you, sympathy must accom- 
 pany your beneficence to them. If you feed the hungry, 
 clothe the naked, and distribute to the necessities of the 
 unfortunate, do it kindly. Let them see that it gives you 
 pleasure to befriend them ; and the value of your charity will 
 be greatly enhanced. Believe it, a charity bestowed wdth an 
 air of gentleness, and with words of encouragement and 
 of hope, will be doubly blessed. Your kind words and 
 pleasant looks may call into play feelings to which they have 
 long been strangers ; for they are mostly received coldly, and 
 sent away abruptly, as if their presence could not long be 
 endured ; so that even the little which they receive does not 
 lighten their burden ; because they discovered nothing in 
 their benefactors to assure them that they are in unison with 
 sympathising hearts, and therefore their weary and worn 
 spirits are not soothed. Be kind to those who differ from 
 you in opinion and in faith. Others enjoy the same right of 
 opinion which we claim for ourselves. They may be as 
 good, perhaps far better in the sight of God, than those who 
 would pronounce harsh judgment upon them. Let not angry 
 words or harsh feelings chill the glov/ of love, or quench the 
 flame of friendship. Suffer not selfishness to drive your mind 
 17* 
 
198 KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 
 
 and heart from others, but unite them to thyself by bonds of 
 intellectual and moral affinity. As a Christian, make mani- 
 fest in your life the spirit and principles of Him who loved 
 those who hated Him, and who, even amid the throes of his 
 agony upon the cross, uttered the unearthly prayer — " Father 
 forgive them, for they know not what they do." A gentle 
 life will be followed by a gentle death. For he that has 
 " ruled his spirit," and delighted in peace, shall pass away 
 softly as the drop mingles back into the ocean, and quietly 
 as the beam melts away into the glory of perfect day. 
 
 " Be kind to each othei' in sorrow and grief, 
 'Tis sympathy only can give thee relief, 
 Dividing our sorrow, but lessens our pain, 
 Be kind to each other — affliction is vain. 
 Be kind to each other when sickness has come. 
 Let nothing but smiles ever visit your home ; 
 Encourage and succor, and soothe the distressed, 
 Be kind to each other and still thou art blest. 
 Be kind to each other through life to its close, 
 And when thou art freed from its wishes and woes. 
 When freed from life's tears, from its sorrows and sighs, 
 Be kind to each other and meet in the skies." 
 
 As one who, in common with others has been wounded, it 
 may be, by erring shafts from the quiver of friendship, or 
 arrows shot by the spirit of envy and detraction, I deem it 
 not inappropriate here to say, that they are all buried so 
 deeply, that no resurrection awaits them on earth, and so 
 softened by the dews of forgiveness, that they may moulder 
 into the dust of oblivion before the judgment-day. And at 
 peace as I humbly trust w^ith God and man, I mean so to live, 
 that the monument which I may build, w^hether lowly or 
 
KINDNESS TO THE LIVING. 199 
 
 lofty, shall be composed of the jasper, the chrysolite, the 
 topaz and amethyst brought from the Gospel's mine, and the 
 top-stone quarried from the mount of Calvary — a polished 
 block of Christian love, inscribed with the prayer of my 
 Lord, that trembled from his death-quivering lips — " Father 
 forgive them, for they knew not what they did?" 
 
CHAPTER TENTH. 
 
 POSTHUMOUS FAME — THE SEPULCHRE INSTRUCTS US 
 HOW TO LIVE, SO AS TO BE REMEMBERED WHEN 
 DEAD. 
 
 " Lives of the great and good remind us, 
 
 We can make our lives sublime ; 
 And departing leave behind us, 
 
 Footsteps on the sands of time — 
 Footprints that perchance another, 
 
 Sailing o'er life's troubled main; 
 A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again." 
 
 It is not a noble mind that despises an honorable fame. 
 Poets have labored to sing it out of existence, and essayists 
 have written learnedly as to its vanity, but it is questionable 
 whether they succeeded in convincing any considerable portion 
 of mankind that their affected indifference about its posses- 
 sion was real. A far more probable and perhaps just conclu- 
 sion which their readers would draw, is, that the desire of 
 the thing which they denounce as unworthy of human pur- 
 suit, constituted the soul of their exertions. It has been 
 pictured as a beautiful bubble which dissolves as soon as it 
 is grasped — a light aerial thing that ceases with the breath 
 which creates it. And one whose notes are often sublime, 
 
 (200) 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 201 
 
 and rise in grandeur as they flow in unison with the theme 
 of the soul's immortality, joined company with less noble 
 minds, when his harp discoursed : — 
 
 " What so foolish as the chase of fame ? 
 How vain the prize ! how impotent our aim ! 
 For what are men who grasp at praise sublime. 
 But bubbles on the rapid stream of time • 
 That rise and fall, that swell and are no more, 
 Born and forgot ten thousand in an hour." 
 
 Minds which never rise to the comprehension of the 
 beautiful and the exalted, and whose conceptions never 
 compass the grandeur of their being, but range along that 
 lowly path which begins in the cradle and terminates in the 
 grave, have sometimes scouted the idea of its reality, and 
 uttered the idiot's laugh at its utility. Satire, wit, philosophy, 
 and religion, have at different times been marshalled into 
 service for its extermination. And if this crusade has some- 
 times been conducted by the disappointed and misanthropic, 
 the virtuous and the wise have also occasionally lent their 
 aid, that, if possible, this noble element of power and success 
 in the human mind might be annihilated. But the presump- 
 tion is as legitimate as it is charitable, that the great and the 
 excellent who have labored to discourage its pursuit, waged 
 their warfare not against an honorable fame, but against that 
 which was baptized in its name, but was of mean parentage, 
 and frail as the breath which gave it existence — a vicious 
 counterfeit of the valuable coin, that enriched no one with a 
 blessing. Those only who are afraid to live, could wish to 
 die unmourned, unwept, and unsung. There are none, 
 
202 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 unless they have quenched the noblest aspirations of their 
 souls, to whom the thought of falling into utter forgetfulness 
 is not abhorrent. The spirit no more shudders at the idea 
 of annihilation, than it shrinks appalled from the prospect of 
 oblivion. 
 
 To be thrown aside as the lifeless clod — to be cut off from 
 the sympathies of this animated world — to have our images 
 effaced from the minds of the living — all recollection of us 
 blotted from human memory — with no golden .thought — 
 no living virtue — no breathing bond of endearment to bind 
 us to those gentle spirits who survive us, and to those warm 
 hearts which will throb around this earth when ours are pulse- 
 less ; such reflections would be at war with all the elements in 
 our nature which stamp the impress of endless duration upon 
 our being. Born for immortality, all the yearnings and tenden- 
 cies which thrill through the framework of our spiritual 
 organization toil towards this high destiny. And as God 
 has given to all things which He has formed the property of 
 self-perpetuation, so has He also endowed the mind with 
 capabilities through which the memory of its existence in this 
 world may be prolonged for years after it has been trans- 
 ferred to that glorious field, where the sphere of its exertion 
 is boundless as eternity. The influence of its intellectual 
 creations and its moral offspring may flame along its path- 
 way through life, and so incorporate itself with the mass of 
 human mind, that the light of its reflected glow will assist to 
 illumine the world for generations to come. It is a tendency 
 m our nature which should be fostered, not crushed; culti- 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 203 
 
 vated, and not destroyed — it is not to be repressed, but aided 
 and judiciously directed in its out-goings ; for it is the motive 
 power of the soul, and lies at the foundation of all that 
 is noble, good, and great. This desire for a worthy posthu- 
 mous remembrance was the matrix in which were generated 
 the conceptions of those political, social, and moral organiza- 
 tions, which have made the world radiant with their blessings, 
 and advanced the race far in its progress towards perfection. 
 It is the womb in which all those intellectual creations, that 
 have enriched us with the wealth of science, the treasures of 
 philosophy, the benefits of law, and the blessings of ethics, 
 were warmed into life. It is therefore not unreasonable to 
 maintain, that an honorable fame is a legitimate object of 
 human pursuit, and worthy of the aspiration of those who 
 have just conceptions of the dignity and destiny of man. 
 Ambrose uttered the sentiment of the great and good when 
 he said : " For mine own part, I wish so to order my con- 
 versation in the world, that I may live when I am dead in 
 the affections of the best, and leave an honorable testimony 
 in the consciences of the worst ; that I may oppress none 
 and do good to all ; that I may neither be ashamed to live 
 nor afraid to die." 
 
 But what is an honorable fame ? I answer, that approba- 
 tion and veneration which mankind accord to an individual 
 whose life and labors have resulted in the elevation and 
 happiness of the race, and contributed to the advancement 
 of the Divine glory. It is that distinction which is associated 
 with acts which either immediately or remotely promote the 
 
204 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 prosperity and permanency of the State, or the progresi= 
 and the glory of the Church ; — with labors performed, whether 
 intellectual, moral, or manual, which are followed with visible 
 good to the public. For whether it is the laying of the 
 foundation of an empire, the making and administration of 
 law, or the doing of that which adds strength and beauty to 
 the social structure, the authors or promoters of such 
 deeds are worthy of profound regard. It must not be sup- 
 posed that an honorable posthumous fame is the product only 
 of elevated stations, of rare intellectual gifts, of valuable 
 discoveries, or extraordinary achievements, which enrol the 
 name of the individual associated with them on the durable 
 records of history. It need not be carved out by the sword, 
 nor purchased with blood ; for if those germs of immortality 
 which are found in every human bosom are but fostered and 
 cultivated, each one may rear for himself an imperishable 
 monument of virtues that will always command the esteem 
 of mankind. The extent of its range is not essential to its 
 existence ; a world-wide circle need not be filled by those 
 who possess it. The gem that glitters far down in the un- 
 fathomable depths of the ocean, and flames only to the eye 
 of Him who formed it, is intrinsically as excellent as the 
 diamond which sparkles in the imperial crown, and as valu- 
 able in the estimation of its producer as the more conspicu- 
 ous one that glows on the brow in which reside the destinies 
 of a kingdom. Wherever the sphere of our exertions may 
 lie, in the State or in the Church, whether in humble or 
 exalted life, man carries within himself the needful resources 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 205 
 
 to perpetuate his principles and memory. The world has, 
 perhaps, never known such deep degeneracy as wholly to 
 withhold its admiration from those who distinguished them- 
 selves in labors to benefit mankind. And, accordingly, we 
 find that among all nations was merit rewarded ; and in all 
 ages have those received expressions of public approbation 
 whose labors for the general good were crowned with 
 success. A nation's heroes and a nation's benefactors are 
 enthroned side by side in her chronicles, and their merit is 
 proclaimed by the erection of monuments of durable 
 materials. Egypt has her pyramids ; and Greece and Rome 
 have their memorials of intellectual triumphs ; and from the 
 ruins of Nineveh shafts and columns are dug up, bearing 
 records of the great and useful men who were identified with 
 the leading events of their age. Such always has been, and 
 such always will be, the sentiment of mankind. 
 
 It is one among the loftiest instincts of our nature, to 
 admire and love that which is exalted and great. The 
 beauty of the landscape, the magnificence of the river, and 
 the vastness of the sea, kindle in the mind elevated and 
 pleasurable emotions. But, amid all that is great and glow- 
 ing in the outspread gorgeousness of the universe, there is no 
 object which awakens such thrilling and unearthly joy within 
 us, as a human mind, girded with strength and robed with 
 the majesty of breathing thought. Its ethereal glow is im- 
 parted and transfused through our being, until a wild ecstacy 
 dances along every fibre of our spiritual framework, and 
 willing or unwilling, commands our homage. There is a 
 18 
 
206 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 beauty in the winged cloud, and in the circling wave — there 
 is a glory in the quiet stars, and in the flaming firmament — 
 there is a power in those utterances which come from the 
 awful shi'ines of nature — there is a grandeur in the storm- 
 tossed ocean ; but there is a higher beauty, a more ravishing 
 glory, a more subduing power, and a sublimer grandeur 
 thrown around a great intellect laboring with a theme of 
 corresponding dignity. Whether it be the mind of a Web- 
 ster rising in the greatness of his intellectual strength, far 
 above the range of ordinary thought, scattering from its 
 faculties mountain obstacles which lie in the wa^' to its 
 conclusions, as the lion shakes the dew-drop from his mane ; 
 bursting all the clogs and fetters which bind inferior capaci- 
 ties to earth and self, and moving amid the peerless splendor 
 of that sphere of deliberation, where the interests of party 
 and the individual are shut out by purity, by honor, by 
 patriotism, and right — or whether it be the mind of a 
 MassTilon, picturing the temptations, the follies, and vices of 
 a licentious court, and pealing into the ears of his proud 
 monarch the cutting declaration — "Sire, God alone is 
 great!" we are constrained to do homage to the truly great, 
 whenever and wherever the force of their genius is recalled. 
 I refer to these eminent examples, simply to illustrate the 
 point, that the laws and impulses of our being make it a 
 Kecessary pleasure to honor the intellectually great. And 
 the same elements in our nature demand a like tribute to 
 the truly good. The instincts of humanity in this particular 
 must be regarded as true and right, because sanctioned by 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 207 
 
 reason, and endorsed by the universal consent of mankind. 
 And \Yhere intellectual endowments are associated with moral 
 goodness, their possessor will bequeath to his posterity a 
 name clothed with a fraCTant remembrance. The misofuided 
 genius may link his name with intellectual creations that flash 
 with a bewilderino" Hare through all comino: time ; but if his 
 life was productive of no good, and his talents were conse- 
 crated to evil, his fame can only serve as a beacon-light, 
 flickering on the midnight cliff where he wrecked his hopes, 
 to warn other voyagers of the rocks which have destroyed a 
 soul. But that those who were benefactors of their race, will, 
 while the world stands, beneficially influence immortal minds, 
 is susceptible of the clearest demonstration, The names of 
 Luther and Washington will live forever! Their tombs are 
 pilgrim shrines, whither men from all climes, kindreds, and 
 tongues resort, to do reverence to the ashes of the distin- 
 guished dead. And what magic power attracts these admi- 
 ring crowds around their mouldering dust? Manifesdy the 
 recollection of their achievements. The one was that 
 " solitary monk who shook the world," unchained the Bible, 
 and conducted the church from a superstitious vassalage into 
 light and freedom ; the other broke from our nation's limbs 
 the shackles of oppression, and delivered us from a painful 
 bondage. Therefore are the graves of these fathers of civil 
 and religious freedom hallowed ground, because consecrated 
 by the tears of nations, and enshrined in the affections of 
 mankind. There may the victims of political and spiritual 
 despotism rekindle their hopes. And to these shrines do 
 
208 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 those repair who are groaning under painful oppression, 
 to catch from those ashes that inspiration \Yhich made them 
 a terror to all tyrants. Around these honored tombs do 
 the yearnings of laboring nations gather, and from these 
 centres radiate those influences which kindled a quickening 
 hope in the crushed and bleeding hearts of those, who now 
 convulse the kingdoms of earth by lifting from the deep 
 foundations of centuries and overturning the thrones of hoary 
 despotism. 
 
 And why are the tombs of eminent civilians and ecclesi- 
 astics, and numerous other citizens who were distinguished 
 for those qualities of mind and heart which made them use- 
 ful, often strewed with fresh memorials of undying love ? Is 
 it not because the man and the benefactor are remembered 
 in his deeds ? Behold those crowds who throng the cemetery 
 to commune with the dead ! See how they stand in groups 
 around certain graves, and direct the attention of children to 
 the decorated mounds! There is a reason for it; for there 
 sleep those who baptized the world with the influences of a 
 holy life, and who contributed to the intellectual, historical, 
 or moral wealth of the nation. Therefore do parents recount 
 the deeds of those to their children, and lay open to their 
 view the road which conducts to an honorable distinction. 
 And wouldest thou be remembered when the cumberers of 
 earth are forgotten, and cherished after tlie winds of many 
 years have sighed their requiems over thy grass-grown sepul- 
 chre ? then let it be thy care now to build thy character of 
 solid virtues, and thou wilt have a monument more durable 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 209 
 
 than marble or brass. Let thy name live in useful enter- 
 prises, in investments for the poor of thy community, for the 
 instruction and salvation of the destitute, and it will go with 
 thy benefactions and write itself in every heart befriended, 
 and engrave itself on the memory of those souls who will 
 make mention before the throne of God of the hand that 
 snatched them from devouring flames. Bring thy treasures 
 of mind, of influence, of silver and gold, and lay them at 
 the feet of the great Redeemer, saying, Son of God, take 
 these thine own gifts, bathe them with thy blood, and send 
 them on their mission for thy honor ; and so shall your name 
 live through the infinite circle of thy Saviour's glory. All 
 the venerated dead enshrined themselves in the hearts of tlieir 
 contemporaries by lives of usefulness, and commended them- 
 selves to the Divine favor by their virtues ; and, therefore, 
 their deeds, like "the spikenard of the woman in tlie gospel, 
 shall yet fill the world with their fragrance." If, therefore, 
 an honorable posthumous fame may be obtained by moral 
 goodness as well as by intellectual greatness, then is it possi- 
 ble for all to secure for themselves that kind of remembrance 
 most valued among men, and which, like the precious gem, 
 never tarnishes with age. It is peculiar to no sphere, but 
 may grow in private or in public, in humble or exalted life. 
 It demands not the intellect of a Webster, nor the eloquence 
 of a Clay, to earn it. They are among the illustrious 
 departed ; but not the only gems which sparkle in our 
 nation's diadem, nor the only stars that shine in that constel- 
 lation of worthies, ^Yhose light guides others in the way to 
 18* 
 
210 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 glory. There may not be many the range of whose earthly 
 fame is so extensive ; but, if they are just men, their 
 " memory will be blessed." The individual who leads an 
 upright and holy life imparts an influence to the world which 
 will never die. 
 
 Man, as he is sometimes viewed, is frail and evanescent. 
 " Compared with many visible objects, man is ephemeral. 
 Compared with the sun that shines over him — the air which 
 fans him — the ocean on which he floats, his ' duration is 
 swift decay.' And there is much pensiveness in the thought 
 of his own frailty. To look out, as we were last week look- 
 ing, on the plenitude of summer — to view the field in its 
 loveliness and the forest in its gorgeous glory — to inhale 
 the fragrance of roses mingling with earth's ripeness, and 
 think how soon our eyes must shut forever on that landscape 
 — how soon aromatic breezes and blushing flowers shall stir 
 no animation in our tombs ; in such contemplations there is 
 a deep pathos, and to surrender the spirit to their habitual 
 mastery would be to live a life of constant melancholy." 
 Truly would such meditations, not associated with the 
 durable elements in man, beget those sweetly sad emotions 
 which are breathed in Tennyson's " Farewell to the Brook." 
 
 " Flow down cold rivulet to the sea, 
 Thy tribute wave deliver ; 
 No more by thee my steps shall be, 
 Forever and forever. 
 
 " But here will sigh thine alder-tree, 
 And here thine aspen shiver ; 
 And here by thee will hum the bee, 
 Forever and forever. 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 211 
 
 "A thousand suns will stream on thee, 
 A thousand moons will quiver; 
 But not by thee my steps shall be, 
 Forever and forever." 
 
 But the virtuous and great will live in the remembrance 
 and homage of mankind. If indestructibility is a property 
 of matter, so is it also of thoughts, of words, and of deeds. 
 Every exalted sentiment, every pious word, every charitable 
 act, carries within itself a procreative power. And as the 
 seed only requires a soil, air, moisture, and light, to repro- 
 duce unnumbered harvests of its kind, so are the spiritual 
 emanations of man freighted with the germs of other harvests 
 which shall grow on the intellectual and moral fields of 
 humanity. It is impossible that a man should live without 
 exerting a determining influence upon others, inasmuch as 
 his actions do not, and cannot, terminate upon himself. 
 As the body of one who is wasting away under a pestilen- 
 tial disease emits an invisible but offensive odor, and imparts 
 to the atmosphere such a noxious taint that the visitor to his 
 chamber cannot long remain without contracting the malady, 
 so does the depraved man send out an unseen, but felt 
 influence, that vitiates and destroys souls. In accordance 
 with the same law does the holy man throw off an impercep- 
 tible moral power, which enlarges its circle of influence and 
 multiplies in its blessings to the end of time. None, how- 
 ever humble his mission, leaves the world as he found it : he 
 gives it the impress of his character, and vitalizes it to a 
 greater or less extent with his own spirit ; so that long 
 after he is gathered to his fathers, the desires which once 
 
212 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 throbbed only in his bosom, and the principles that once con- 
 trolled only his mind, will have become a part of those moral 
 influences which will shape the destiny of generations to 
 come. 
 
 The truth of this statement was obscurely present to the 
 consciousness of those even upon whom the light of revela- 
 tion had not dawned. The theology of the ancient Egyptians 
 recognized a vhal and indestructible principle in virtue. But 
 among all those who were chiefly indebted to the light of 
 reason and philosophical conjecture for their knowledge, 
 none have expressed themselves with such beauty and sub- 
 limity as the Parsis. Helvetius informs us, that at the burial 
 of a distinguished citizen, a funeral oration was pronounced, 
 and the subjoined service uttered over the tomb of the 
 departed. " 0, earth ! ! common mother of human 
 beings, take back what to thee appertaineth of the body of 
 this hero ; let the aqueous particles that flowed in his veins 
 exhale into the air, and falling in rain on the mountains, 
 replenish the streams, fertilize the plains, and roll back to the 
 abyss of the ocean whence they proceeded ! Let the fire 
 concentrated in this body rejoin the heavenly orb, the source 
 of light and heat ! Let the air confined in his members, 
 burst its prison, and be diffused by the mundane space ! And 
 lastly thou, 0, breath of life, if perchance thou art of a nature 
 separate from all others, return to the unknown being that 
 produced thee ; or, if thou art only a mixture of various ele- 
 ments, mayst thou, after being dispersed in the universe, 
 again assemble thy scattered particles, to form another citizen 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 213 
 
 as virtuous as this has beeir." Is there not, in these sublime 
 images and noble sentiments of this people, a dim recognition 
 of the fact, that the spiritual influences thrown off from man's 
 intellectual and moral natures perish not, but go out upon 
 their endless mission of benefactions to mankind. The same 
 thought is expressed in the forcible and eloquent tribute of 
 our own Webster, to the memory of one of his associate and 
 rival senators. " A superior and commanding intellect, and 
 truly great man, when heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not 
 a temporary flame, burning bright for a while, and then 
 expiring, giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a 
 spark of fervent heat as well as radiant light, with power to 
 enkindle the common mass of human mind; so that when 
 it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in death, no 
 night follows, but it leaves the world all light, all on fire, 
 from the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon died, but 
 the human understanding, roused by the touch of his miracu- 
 lous wand to a perception of the true philosophy, and the just 
 mode of inquiring after truth, has kept on its course success- 
 fully and gloriously. Newton died, yet the courses of the 
 spheres are still known, and they yet move on in the orbits 
 which he saw and described for them in the infinity of 
 space." 
 
 And if such is the force and destiny of a massive human 
 intellect, that it incorporates itself with the aggregate mind 
 of earth, living from age to age in breathing thoughts and 
 exalted sentiments, is it not equally true, that moral goodness 
 has the elements of an immortality co-enduring with the 
 
214 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 products of the understanding? Aye, the greatest purely 
 intellectual offspring, even of Webster, would be destined to 
 perish, if not sooner, in the fires of a consuming world, that 
 will reduce all monuments, records, and histories to ashes, 
 had he not bound by a living faith his fleeting existence to 
 the Immutable and Eternal. He was never greater than 
 when he comprehended and confessed his weakness, and 
 clung to his Saviour, uttering his conviction of the truth of 
 God's promises in his own language — " That rod ! that 
 rod,"— "That stafT! that staff" — "That is what they 
 want — that is what they want," in passing from this to that 
 nobler existence which opens in a boundless eternity. His 
 moral goodness is the element of perpetuity in his world — 
 wide, his honorable and everlasting fame. 
 
 And how much more than the Parsis to whom I referred, 
 may we from whom Christianity has lifted the veil of darkness 
 and doubt, and in whom it imparts its own undying exis- 
 tence to all the moral products that flow from it, say to those 
 virtues which adorned the character of a deceased friend, and 
 to the influences which have radiated from him who was " a 
 light of the world ;" go, ye offspring of the gospel and the 
 Holy Ghost, on your errands of blessing through the empire 
 of charity, and unite in other souls, and when the earth has 
 been renovated, humanity recovered and beautified with 
 salvation, return to the infinite fountain of all ^ood, from 
 whom you proceeded. 
 
 A marked and beautiful feature in the economy of the 
 Divine government is, that those blessings which are abso- 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 215 
 
 lately essential to the happiness and perfection of our being, 
 are indiscriminately bestowed upon all, while others that may 
 or may not be made subservient to the welfare of an immortal 
 spirit, are given to the few. For example : the air, the sun- 
 shine, and water are indispensable to our existence, and 
 these are furnished freely and abundantly to all ; whereas, 
 those rare intellectual gifts that elevate their possessor far 
 above the masses, are vouchsafed to the few, because not 
 necessary to the attainment of happiness. While, therefore, 
 intellectual eminence is reached by a comparatively small 
 number, the invaluable blessings comprehended in a life of 
 honorable actions, of benevolence and holiness, may be 
 enjoyed as abundantly by all, as the air we breathe and the 
 light which falls so profusely around us. The disciple 
 " whom Jesus loved," was doubtless intellectually inferior to 
 some of the others, and that which won for him a higher 
 place in the affections of the Master, was unquestionably his 
 moral goodness. Being naturally of an amiable disposition, 
 the powers of his soul were harmoniously developed under 
 the genial warmth of the Saviour's love, until all the graces 
 of a lofty excellence blended and glowed in his character. 
 And while it would neither be desirable, nor tend to the 
 general good, were all men endowed with like mental 
 capacities, it is important to the glory of God that all may 
 attain that style of moral excellence which exalts man into 
 sympathy with the noble and good of all ages, and to fellow- 
 ship with Jehovah. It is not needful to the excellence, 
 harmony, and efficiency of the organism of nature, that there 
 
216 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 should be a greater number of high mountains, large rivers, 
 lakes, and seas, than those which the Almighty hand has 
 fashioned ; and it is not in themselves, but as they are set ofi" 
 by hills of a less altitude, streams of a smaller compass, and 
 all these by plains and valleys, that we have beauty, because 
 variety. And not only is this diversity in the material world 
 essential to the comeliness of the picture vv'hich it offers to the 
 eye, but the mutual dependence that subsists between the 
 diiferent parts which make up the creation, gives utility to 
 the entire work. In like manner has God ordained in human 
 society a diversity of gifts and vocations, sustaining such 
 relations to each other, and so blended in their interests, that 
 when they fulfil their respective missions, they reflect the 
 wisdom of their Sovereign and promote the happiness of all. 
 And while He has assigned to the few the grandeur of the 
 mountain, to some the magnificence of the river, and to 
 others the lowliness and fragrance of the violet and lily, He 
 sheds upon all the light of His countenance and the dews of 
 His grace, that all may flourish in the beauty of holiness, and 
 reflect back to the giver an image of His own loveliness. 
 
 It is, therefore, manifest that all may become useful, virtu- 
 ous, and acceptable to God ; and if such be their privilege, 
 then may all so live as to be affectionately remembered when 
 dead. And this should be one of the great objects of life 
 with every individual. Contempt for the community which 
 is the sphere of our exertions, and of mankind in general, is 
 no evidence of v»"isdom or talent, but proof of ignorance or 
 baseness. For man cannot disregard the esteem of others 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 217 
 
 until he has first divested himself of those honorable senti- 
 ments and feelings of self-respect, which cannot be lost with- 
 out vitiating the character. And while there are not many 
 who may aspire to that illustrious distinction, that extensive 
 and brilliant renown which is properly the inheritance only 
 of a few, I would say to the youth of industry and talent : 
 Start in the race of life with the determination to rise to the 
 highest point to which the energy and capacity of your mind 
 will carry you. When you have reached that elevation, you 
 will be contented, for you have filled the measure of your 
 duty. And although no imperial crown shall glitter upon these 
 brows, and no obsequious courtiers surround us in the atti- 
 tude of menials, we may so endear ourselves to the circles 
 in which we move, and so incorporate our enterprise, 
 benevolence, and purity, in the body of the social structure, 
 that a fragrant remembrance will survive us when gone to 
 wear a fadeless diadem of glory. The man of affluence may 
 transmit his name to the latest posterity by the erection of 
 hospitals, the endowing of institutions of learning, and by 
 building houses of worship. William Penn, by a prudent 
 reservation of land in Delaware, affords facilities for intellect- 
 ual culture to the present generation. A gentleman in 
 England has recently devoted eighty thousand pounds to the 
 erection of Christian chapels; and our own LawTence, and 
 many others, have left memorials of their enlightened zeal 
 and benevolent spirit, in making provision for the wants- of 
 the indigent and friendless. That man who bends his exer 
 tions to the elevation of his race cannot be neglected or for 
 19 
 
218 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 gotten. And it should be a source of profound gratitude that 
 the instincts of nature prompt us to honor the memory of the 
 useful and great. For it is this appreciation of merit on the part 
 of mankind that encourages the young to imitate the example 
 of those whose honors they would share. I regard, there- 
 fore, the discharge of duties and the exertion of a man's 
 faculties in such a manner as to secure for him an honorable 
 fame, perfectly legitimate, and in accordance with the lessons 
 of Christianity. The gospel is not designed to give new 
 attributes to our nature, nor to throw out of our constitution 
 the elements which it there finds, and especially one so 
 potent that its extinction would cause every enterprise to 
 flag, and the wheels of progress to stand still ; but its office 
 is to purify all the generous impulses of our nature, and lead 
 them forth attired with the ornaments of Divine grace, and 
 direct them to such efforts as will benefit man and glorify 
 God. 
 
 As the truly good or great man desires only such posthu- 
 mous remembrance as is fitted to incite others to exertions 
 that may result in permanent good to mankind, so in what- 
 ever offspring of his mind or heart his memory is perpetuated, 
 he accomplishes the end of his toils. He would live in the 
 affections of others not from motives of vanity, but that the 
 recollections of his struggles and triumphs may become to 
 some other weary travellers who follow^ in the race of life, 
 what the achievements of the good of former times are to 
 him — a means of refreshment and encouragement when 
 oppressed with the burdens of his vocation. 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 219 
 
 Who that has ever struggled with difficulties until dis- 
 pirited because everything transpired adversely to his hopes, 
 and the wheels of human machinery seemed out of joint, so 
 that its music grated harshly on his sensibilities, and then 
 took down from the shelf the Holy Book, or some other 
 record which brought him into communion with men who 
 had travelled the same path, and overcome those very 
 obstacles that brought him to a stand-still, has not gathered 
 strength to start afresh and successfully keep on in that road 
 which had appeared to him in that moment of depression 
 swept by torments and obstructed by mountains ? Who can 
 estimate the number of those who have been taught the 
 omnipotent energy of faith, by the recorded trial o^ Abraham ? 
 How many young men has the example of the inflexibly 
 chaste Hebrew youth who w'as tempted to commit crime in 
 the house of Potiphar, kept back from shame and " the path 
 of the destroyer?" With what child-like and unshaken trust 
 in the goodness of an overruling Providence, does the history 
 of Elijah and that of the widow of Sarepta inspire those w'ho 
 are under the hard pressures of poverty? What millions 
 have found in the experience of David, so touchingly des- 
 cribed in his Psalms, the inward distresses, sorrows and con- 
 flicts of their ow^n souls, and by treading in his footsteps have 
 been conducted to the sources of healing, and to the fountains 
 of spiritual joy ? Where is the sufferer who may not profit 
 in the school of Job ? Who has not approached with a 
 holier boldness and a stronger confidence the throne of grace 
 after communion with Hannah, with Joshua, and Daniel ? 
 
220 posTiiuMors fame. 
 
 And who knows how much the example of Moses may have 
 contributed to the success of our Washington, who trusted in 
 God and the righteousness of our cause? If we need models 
 of purity, of benevolence, and of patriotism to animate us, 
 the records of the past are full of illustrious names. That 
 cloud of witnesses of the holy departed the Apostle exhorts 
 us to regard as patterns of excellence, and we should as 
 reluctantly attempt to strike one of these from the moral 
 firmament, as we would one of the luminaries which shines 
 in the canopy of heaven ; for they relieve the world of its 
 moral gloom, as the stars do the earth of natural darkness. 
 And in like manner are those important to the living who did 
 not rise to the intellectual and moral elevation of Patriarchs, 
 Prophets, and Apostles, but who served God in an honorable 
 capacity. 
 
 Individuals who have acquired large wealth, are mostly 
 possessed of fine intellectual capacities, which make them 
 comprehensive and far-reaching in their calculations ; and if 
 they are the followers of Him " who was rich, but for our 
 sakes became poor," they will in their recognition of the true 
 source of their prosperity, feel their high responsibility, and 
 make such a disposition of a portion of their property, that it 
 may flow down through all time in streams of blessing, and 
 shed a moral grandeur over the wide bosom of eternity. An 
 individual establishes and sustains a mission in a heathen 
 land, and multitudes will rise around the throne of judgment 
 ♦o pronounce him blessed. The Sabbath School System was 
 once a conception, as the universe was once a thought, and 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 221 
 
 the originator has linked his name with a brilliant immortality. 
 Thousands of immortal minds have been raised from a foul 
 obscurity, and transferred from paths of ruin to the path of 
 peace, by the " Ragged School ;" but it also sprang from a 
 benevolent mind. What a monument of enlightened zeal 
 and well-directed piety is the Bible Society ! Its founders 
 have long since gone to their reward, but their instrumentality 
 sheds lio-ht and salvation over our sin-stricken earth. The 
 ample charities and generous aid of affluent Christians have 
 given to the country brilliant intellects, which now shine on 
 the watch-towers of freedom and the walls of Zion, presiding 
 over the interests of religion, and controlling the destinies of 
 the nation. And are not those whose generous instrumen- 
 tality has gemmed our national history with some of its bright- 
 est jewels, by furnishing the world patriotic statesmen, gifted 
 artists, and eloquent divines, worthy of everlasting remem- 
 brance ? Aye, they cannot be forgotten — their names shall not 
 die ! No ! not as long as thought survives, for their fame 
 will be co-enduring with the immortality of that intellectual 
 and moral wealth which they were instrumental in pouring 
 upon the altars of their country and its Divine Sovereign. 
 
 There are those, however, whose inability to do something 
 great inclines them to do nothing at all. This is a mistaken 
 view of duty. God's care has accompanied the widow's 
 mite, so that it has produced its millions. He looks wiiii 
 approbation not only on the will to do good, bul alx) 
 furnishes the link to bind us in that chain of inlhu'iues which 
 shall yet regenerate the world. That little congregational 
 19* 
 
222 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 circle of ladies toiling for the poor at home and abroad, is 
 known in heaven, and contemplated with interest by angels 
 as co-workers with God and His holy ones in the great work 
 of redemption. Many schools are sustained in heathen lands 
 by the earnings of these societies. These cast their bread 
 upon the waters with regrets that they can sow so small a 
 harvest ; but the revelations of the final day will show that 
 these little efforts have wrought stupendous results. The 
 little copper and silver of the missionary-box will yet be con- 
 templated in the wealth of eternal glory. Courage, ye little 
 bands, so often tempted to discontinue your efforts ; for those 
 stitches will make white robes for heathen souls, and the 
 Holy Spirit will transform those penny contributions into 
 crowns of gold, and your tears into sparkling gems, to adorn 
 those who are the objects of your charity. All can do some- 
 thing to keep their memories green. If not possessed of the 
 needful wealth to do a work which demands a large outlay, 
 unite with kindred spirits like the drops which form the 
 rivulet, and you will create a stream that will widen its 
 channel and multiply in its blessings as it flows. Do some- 
 thing for your country, for the race, and for Christ. Have you 
 a child ? You can consecrate it to God, and train it for useful- 
 ness. If you have none, take an orphan from the Lord's 
 family of poor ; bestow upon it the tenderness of a mother, 
 or the care of a father, and you will live in it ; and in the 
 day of retribution Jesus will say, "Inasmuch as ye have 
 done this unto one of these little ones, ye have done it unto 
 me." If you can do no more, leave to your posterity a 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 223 
 
 pious example, and you will bequeath to mankind a legacy 
 more valuable than gold, yea, than much fine gold," 
 unaccompanied with moral excellence. For as the influence 
 of none is so insignificant that he may not mould some 
 character after the pattern of his own, so every one who con- 
 secrates himself to God through our instrumentality consti- 
 tutes a living monument to our memory. We die, but our 
 characters live as representatives of our vices or virtues. Of 
 the first martyr on holy record it is written : " He being 
 dead, yet speaketh." "Enoch walked with God," and his 
 example encourages others to toil for the same honorable 
 distinction. We may secure a " good name, which is more 
 precious than rubies" — a name whose effulgence may fill 
 the canopy of exalted life, or diffuse its fragrance around 
 the walks of the lowly ; and, like the flower hid by ranker 
 grasses, its sweetness will reveal the place of its seclusion. 
 Faith, hope, and charity, uniting in human character, invest 
 it with sublime energy, and cause its influence to vibrate 
 along those golden chords of love which hold in unison 
 Jehovah with the subjects of His empire. Thus a pure heart 
 exults not merely in its conscious elevation into the sympa- 
 thies of the intelligent universe, but itself becomes a fountain 
 where waters of life spring up and flow out to gladden a 
 weary world. The granite rock yields particle after particle, 
 as its just tribute to the great law of mutation, until the 
 immense pile has dissolved like snow; but a good name 
 stands unimpaired through this process of change, for its 
 foundations repose upon the rock of immuta'ule truth, and, 
 
224 , POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 built of virtues as imperishable as their Author, the noble 
 structure will not be enfeebled by the weight and moss of 
 centuries, but partake more and more of the changeless 
 nature of that eternity into which it rises sublimely and 
 gloriously. 
 
 Such are the properties of an honorable posthumous fame, 
 that each one may possess it to the full measure of his capa- 
 city. And while the exalted statesman lives in, and is 
 honored for the creation of those laws which are the sinews 
 of the body politic, and for those moral qualities with which 
 he healthfully animates the commonwealth, the gentle dews 
 of a mother's love may shine forever as gems of richest lustre 
 in her child hard by the throne of God, and, after the records 
 on adamant shall have melted in the fires of the last day, 
 those lessons written by the potent touch of her influence on 
 immortal minds, will remain bright and glorious. It is a 
 prize which w^ould more than compensate the sleepless toil 
 of ten thousand ages. It is a boon worthy of the great God 
 who offers it. Enter then in earnest upon its pursuit — fill, 
 if you can, earth and heaven with your fame, but have a care 
 that it is honorable. Drop along the walks of daily life, kind 
 words and noble deeds ; for these are the blocks which must 
 compose the pile that is to point to coming travellers the 
 path to glory. Somewhere there is a tomb with this inscrip- 
 tion — " What I have saved, I have lost ; what I gave away, 
 I have." And this will one day be the experience of all, 
 and true not only of their charities, but also of the wealth of 
 their virtues. For only that life which imparts its blessing 
 
POSTHUMOUS FAME. 225 
 
 to others, is crowned with peace ; those only who have 
 " served their day and generation according to the will of 
 God," will be kindly cherished when they rest from their 
 labors. There is animation in the thought, that when others 
 shall linger around our tombs, they may recall judicious 
 counsels, faithful instructions, and noble deeds ; and that our 
 very ashes may kindle hope and energy in minds unborn. 
 There is a glory in every conquest which the Christian makes 
 over the world and his corruptions, that I see nowhere else. 
 The interests that enter into the conflict are so commanding 
 in their issues, the enemies so formidable, the consequences 
 of failure so tremendous, and the blessings of success so 
 immeasurably great, that while I watch his struggles, all the 
 sympathies of my being kindle into burning, and I could 
 shout with all the intensity of my soul into his ears, 
 courage my brother, life, Eternal Life is the prize. The 
 mind is always' glorious in lofty action or sublime contempla- 
 tion, but never glows with such an unearthly grandeur, as 
 when she hopes, prays, and toils for eternity. Laboring in 
 unison with the Eternal, with her eye fixed on a resplendent 
 imimortality, she gathers strength and glory as chord after 
 chord which binds the noble captive to earth is snapped, 
 until the last that detains her is severed, and she ascends 
 amid the hallelujahs of ministering angels to the bosom of 
 God. It is announced for the encouragement of the good 
 and great — " Then they that feared the Lord spake often one 
 to another ; and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and 
 a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that 
 
226 POSTHUMOUS FAME. 
 
 feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they 
 shall be mine, saith the Lord, in that day when I make up 
 my jewels, and I will spare them as a man that spareth his 
 own son that serveth him." And may we all rise to that 
 sublime view of our nature and destiny, that in all our pur- 
 suits after inferior good, we may breathe the utterances of a 
 gifted poet : 
 
 " Attempt how vain, 
 With things of earthly sort, with aught but God, 
 With aught but moral excellence, truth and love — 
 To satisfy and fill the immortal soul ! 
 To satisfy the ocean with a drop ; 
 To marry immortality to death, 
 And with the unsubstantial shade of time 
 To fill the embrace of all eternity." 
 
 And under the force of this conviction we will seek the 
 light of the Divine favor, and, united to Him, we shall be 
 enshrined in the being of God, and live forever. 
 
CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 
 
 THE REPOSE OP THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 There is no place where Christianity glows with such a 
 Divine lustre, and where its consolations are so precious and 
 sublime, as at the grave where we commit a cherished one to 
 rest. Its hopes loom out upon the gloom that oppresses the 
 heart there as the sun when it bursts full-orbed through the 
 dark storm-clouds which obscure the canopy of heaven. 
 However much we may have pondered the mysteries of the 
 gospel and appreciated its lessons, we can never understand 
 its priceless value so fully as when its light bursts through 
 our clouds of dark calamity, and spans them with the bow 
 of promise, as its rays are reflected by our tears. We 
 may have often heard and read the blessed announce- 
 ment " that Christ brought life and immortality to light," 
 but there we feel it. We may have admired that charming 
 promise, " When thou goest through the waters I wmII be with 
 thee, and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee ; 
 when thou walkest through the fire thou shalt not be burnt, 
 neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord 
 thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Savii)ur." But, inef- 
 fably more precious did we find this promise in our deep 
 afflictions, when our souls felt the conscious presence and 
 
 (227) 
 
228 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 support of the everlasting arms underneath us. As the rose 
 gives out its most delicious fragrance when it is crushed, so 
 do the promises of God breathe their healing balm most 
 effectually when pressed upon hearts broken with sorrow. 
 We do not marvel that the poor bereaved Pagan should be 
 inconsolable ; for there is no power in his religion to disperse 
 the clouds which hang around the grave — all is shrouded in 
 impenetrable gloom. No voice utters words of hope from 
 the mysterious spirit- world. No messenger comes to him, 
 to tell of a bright and glorious future. To him eternity is a 
 boundless, dark expanse, where the light of reason goes out, 
 and no star of hope burns. His religion contains not one 
 lesson to relieve and comfort his grief-stricken heart ; it has 
 nothing wherewith to reconcile him to his loss. He may 
 call Socrates and Plato to his aid, and consult the maxims of 
 other philosophers, but they will leave him as hopeless and 
 miserable as ever. They may, indeed, exhort him to exer- 
 cise submission to an inevitable necessity, and extol forti- 
 tude under trials as an exalted virtue ; but, what is there 
 in all this to cure heart-sorrow ? — what are all these 
 sublime teachings of the ancient sages worth, in the hour 
 of bereavement and death ? They comfort no mourner 
 — they lift no sorrow from the heart — they soothe or heal 
 no anguished spirit. It is true their mythologies speak of 
 Elysian fields, ornamented with all that can gratify the senses ; 
 but notwithstanding the wild and romantic pictures with 
 which glowing imaginations have peopled the future home of 
 the heathen, tlrere is nothing real — nothing to fill the soul 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 229 
 
 with assurance of immortal good. For whatever fields of 
 science, of literature, and of philosophy, we may explore, 
 we shall find no plant that grows in these possessed of such 
 virtues as quiet a distressed bosom ; for only the balm of 
 Gilead can mollify and heal the wounds of a stricken soul 
 But whatever causes there may be for the distress of the 
 poor benighted and bereaved heathen, these should not disturb 
 the Christian. His sky may be shrouded in thick dark- 
 ness, but the star of Bethlehem still shines in the midst of it. 
 Storms of affliction may beat long and loud around him ; but 
 as wave after wave breaks over his soul, he hears the accents 
 of a well-known voice, " Be not afraid, it is I." The tomb 
 may have its gloom, but light falls from the cross to illumine 
 the dark mansion. 
 
 Thus far, I have endeavored to offer to the consideration 
 of the reader those lessons of instruction which the sepulchre 
 is so eminently fitted to suggest, and which, because invested 
 with the solemnities of the final hour, should be impressively 
 felt. I trust that the fact has been established, that, while it 
 bereaves us of our treasures, it compensates us in some 
 measure for the losses sustained by the instruction it affords. 
 But while it is capable of enriching the mind with lessons of 
 wisdom, and of inciting us to increased exertions in all that 
 can elevate and dignify the soul, and qualify it for the exalted 
 destiny which lies before it, the sepulchre also offers lessons, 
 which are consolatory and soothing to the distressed. To 
 those whose lot is cast amid the influences of Christianity, 
 and who are permitted to contemplate all things under the' 
 20 
 
230 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 light of revelation, there can be nothing which may not 
 become to them a messenger of good. Let us then devoutly 
 interrogate the sepulchre in the light, and with the assistance 
 of the holy oracles of God; — that Book which is truly said 
 to be " Heaven's best gift and surest guide to man." 
 
 " Most vrondrous book ! Briglit candle of the Lord ! 
 Star of eternity ! only star 
 By -which the bark of man could navigate 
 The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss 
 Securely ! only star ■which rose on time, 
 And, on its dark and troubled billows, still, 
 As generation drifting swiftly by. 
 Succeeded generation, threw a ray 
 Of Heaven's own light, and to the hills of God, 
 The eternal hills, pointed the sinner's eye. 
 This Book, this holy book, on every line 
 Marked with the seal of high divinity ; 
 On every leaf bedew'd with drops of love 
 Divine, and with th' eternal heraldry 
 And signature of God Almighty stamped 
 From first to last, this ray of sacred light. 
 This lamp from off the everlasting throne, 
 Mercy took down, and in the night of time 
 Stood casting on the dark her gracious bow; 
 And evermore beseeching men with tears 
 And earnest sighs, to read, believe, and live." 
 
 This star burns so brilliantly in our moral firmament, that it 
 sheds light into the tomb, and causes the ashes of our 
 departed to glow with immortality. It directs our thoughts 
 from the lowliness of the sepulchre, to those hills of life which 
 are radiant with immortal bloom, and from the darkness of 
 the grave to the ineffable glory of the world to come. Aye, 
 it is the Bible, with its revelations of another and a higher 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 231 
 
 state of existence, and its records of Him who went down 
 into the chambers of death, and in the domain of the king of 
 terrors won for himself and his followers a conquest over the 
 dreaded tyrant, that makes the grave to believers a pleasant 
 retreat from the turmoils of earth, and a place of peaceful 
 repose from their labors. The Bible has endowed the torao 
 with speech, so tliat its utterances to bereaved souls are 
 messages of consolation. Gathered in thought around the 
 still but venerable abodes of our loved ones, we hear from 
 the awful shrines of the dead, as the first lesson of consolation, 
 that the inmates of the sepulchre rest in peace. 
 
 " There is a calm for those who weep, 
 A rest for weary pilgrims found ; 
 They softly lie, and sweetly sleep, 
 Low in the ground." 
 
 Who has not felt a charm like that of angel melodies 
 floating over his soul, as he stood by the open grave into 
 which the remains of a weary pilgrim had been laid, 
 and over which the words were uttered, " Blessed are 
 the dead who die in the Lord ; yea, saith the spirit, 
 from henceforth ; for they rest from their labors and 
 their works do follow them." As he was not united to 
 us by any closer ties than those of humanity and religion, the 
 heart is not steeped in that grief which overwhelms the soul 
 when a family bond is broken, and therefore feels more im- 
 pressively and deeply the force of this blessed assurance. 
 The mind of the spectator is just sufficiently solemnized, and 
 is in that quiet calm, when the finer sensibilities of our nature 
 
232 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 vibrate in sweet response to lofty and touching sentiments. 
 And to one in such a franae, the words quoted fall upon his 
 placid spirit as if spoken fresh from the throne of God, and 
 still redolent with the soft and grief-quieting influences of 
 heaven. The contrast is so marked — the change so impres- 
 sive! But yesterday I stood by the bed where lay in anguish 
 this brother mortal. I held his fevered hand in mine ; 1 
 moistened his parched lips, and cooled his burning brow, 
 I still see the imploring look for help, while disease ran like 
 liquid fire through his veins, and his whole frame quivered 
 with anguish as he cried, " Lord, hasten my redemption, and 
 give me rest." And now the harp, that groaned discordant 
 notes of pain, lies shattered, but will again be strung to 
 discourse the lofty strains of redeeming love in heaven. 
 
 Yes, they are truly blessed who have overcome and fallen 
 asleep in Jesus. And there are moments of sore pressure, 
 of weariness and of pain, when we could wish the last con- 
 flict over, that we might also repose in the peaceful grave. 
 It is true, that human nature clings fondly to life, and even 
 makes us willing to exist amid the wrecks of our happiness 
 and hopes, under the pressure of poverty and sickness, 
 uncared for, and unbefriended ; but it does not, therefore, 
 follow that such would not be happier if resting in the tomb. 
 For this love of life is a law of our being, wisely ordained for 
 the good of society, and designed to prevent persons from 
 rushing unbidden into the presence of a holy God. But is not 
 this reluctance to surrender our breath also intended to sub- 
 serve a yet higher purpose ? Are not the operations of this 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 233 
 
 law, which holds man with such a firm grasp to this fleeting 
 existence, premonitions, or echoes of his immortality ? And 
 are not the dying, themselves, conscious that the dissolution 
 of the soul and body terminates not the existence of the 
 spirit? If net, what mean those outcries of terror, or those 
 rapturous utterances which break from the pillows of the 
 dying! 0! it is the unfitness, or fitness, of individuals to 
 endure those eternal realities which break in their terrific or 
 sublime grandeur upon the vision of the soul, that causes 
 those scenes of distress and joy which we sometimes witness 
 in the chambers of death. And, while there is nothing to 
 console in the case of unhappy departures but the conviction 
 that a just Sovereign is on the throne, and that they pass into 
 the hands of a merciful God, there is every thing to assure us 
 of the blessedness of those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. 
 The relations which joined them to a laboring and suffering 
 world are all dissolved, and they have uttered their eternal 
 farewell to sickness, sorrow, and pain. They now enjoy 
 unclouded peace and undisturbed tranquillity ; and is not 
 this a very precious consolation to surviving friends ? 
 
 Could we wish the weather-beaten mariner, who has just 
 crossed the threshold of his home, and is now locked in the 
 embraces of his family, back again upon the stormy seas, and 
 amid the dashing waves and pelting storms through which 
 he has passed with much suffering and with great peril ? 
 Nay, we rather pronounce him blessed, and congratulate him 
 on having safely reached his port and his home. Had we 
 the power, would we command that friend, who has been 
 20* 
 
234 THE RKPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 stretched upon a bed of languishing and pain for months and 
 years, but who is just risen up, and is for the first time abroad 
 upon a bright morning, rejoicing like an uncaged bird 
 while breathing the pure air of heaven, back to his couch, 
 and assign him yet, other sleepless nights and days of pain ? 
 Ah, no ! it is with emotions of joy, as if ourselves had been 
 relieved of a painful burden, that w^e, press his emaciated 
 hand, and welcome him back to the pleasures of society, to 
 health and to business. And should we be less considerate 
 and kind to those dear departed ones, who, though long tem- 
 pest-tossed, have at last reached the haven of eternal repose? 
 No, we cannot desire their return to other scenes of trial, or 
 to make a second voyage over the ocean of life, which heaves 
 with so many sorrows, and is filled with so many rocks and 
 shoals upon w^hich eternal hopes are often wrecked. Neither 
 could we wish those beloved ones back to this vale of tears, 
 who were known as great but patient sufferers among us, but 
 whose spirits at length burst the prison that confined them, 
 and soared to yonder glorious world where the inhabitants 
 shall no more say they are sick, and where they now rejoice in 
 the sunshine of a Saviour's love, and inhale an atmosphere 
 which thrills their being with immortal raptures. No, our 
 well beloved, but sainted ones, the Bible has thrown such 
 attractions over that world of light and immortality, that we 
 count those happy who have reached those blissful shores. 
 The quiet tomb where your bodies sleep is a precious em- 
 blem of the rest of your spirits from all that afflicted you on 
 earth. For you, all sorrows, disappointments, and woes are 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 235 
 
 ended. No more shall ye languish and pine on a foreign 
 shore in exile and in pain ; for ye are at home, forever home. 
 Ye have no more losses to mourn, no partings to endure, no 
 temptations to resist, no sins to bewail. 
 > We still painfully remember our fears and your increasing 
 infirmities, parents of our love, as we saw you passing from 
 the summer into the evening of life. How you yourselves 
 even seemed surprised as your strength abated and your eyes 
 grew dim, and thus broken with age you sought the support 
 of those arms to which you had given life, to assist you in 
 your slow progress to the shade of that elm which your own 
 hands had planted. And there, as we sat together, and 
 looked out over the landscape, so changed by cultivation 
 from its appearance in former years, you spoke to us of by- 
 gone days, of the goodness of Providence, and the com- 
 panions of your youth. One by one, their friends had passed 
 away, until they stood the lonely representatives of a former 
 generation, like a few oaks that had withstood the storm 
 which prostrated the forest. Fondly did we cling around 
 those venerable forms, and earnestly as ever did we treasure 
 up the lessons of wisdom which fell from the lips of our 
 honored parents. But every day added to their feebleness, 
 until all those images of extreme frailty, so glowingly pictured 
 by Solomon, were visible upon them. The almond tree was 
 flourishing, the grasshopper became a burden, desire failed, 
 and the golden bowl was about to be broken ; and conscious 
 that they would soon go to their long home, they often 
 uttered'that touching petition of David — " Cast me not ofT 
 
236 THE EEPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 in the lime of my old age, forsake me not when my strength 
 faileth." Well do I remember that summer evenino:, when, 
 for the last time, we surveyed together the scenes around that 
 cherished home ; and vivid is the impression of that last 
 utterance that we heard from your lips, as your eyes followed 
 the descending sun : " The path of the just is as a shining 
 light, which shineth more and more, until the perfect day." 
 We watched through your sickness, and strove to alleviate 
 those sufferings which we could not command away; and in 
 your decline and exit from this world, we felt the force of the 
 declaration, " the years of our pilgrimage are three-score 
 years and ten, and if by reason of strength they be four-score ; 
 yet is their strength labor and sorrow, for it is soon cut off 
 and we fly away." But ye have gone to the grave, and we 
 will not deplore you, for now you are at rest ; and having 
 served your day and generation according to the will of God,, 
 ye have fallen asleep, and are gathered with your fathers, 
 while your instructions and example remain to guide us on- 
 ward in that path which leads from the grave to glory. 
 
 Fresh in our minds are your sufferings, cherished com- 
 panions, fond sisters, and noble brothers. Are you a husband, 
 dear reader, and do you mourn the gentle partner of your 
 bosom } How unutterably sad is your condition ! How 
 incalculable your loss! Alas! who can enter that home, 
 from which the sunshine, the music, and the smiles of a 
 beloved wife and mother have fled, without realizing that a 
 dark calamity has befallen that family, and spread a gloom 
 over that scene which painfully affects every observer.'' And 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 237 
 
 who can withhold his sympathy from him thus bereaved, 
 whether you see him in his quiet and cheerless home, or in 
 his lonely walks with those who are continually reminding 
 him of the departed one? There may be other kind hearts 
 to yearn over that little flock, but not with the delicate ten- 
 derness of a mother. There may be others to throw around 
 the little ones a cherishing care ; but it is not the sweet influ- 
 ence of a mother, wooing into beautiful development and 
 growth, the budding affections and springing thoughts of 
 youthful souls, until they stand clothed with excellence. 
 The place and office of a good mother can never be properly 
 supplied to those children. But although he who is thus 
 bereaved, is conscious that a calamity disastrous to his hap- 
 piness has befallen him ; yet should he sustain his mind by 
 those consolatory considerations which the sepulchre sug- 
 gests. Are you not more competent, and better able to walk 
 the path of life alone, than that feeble and delicate object of 
 your affections? Have you not a stronger arm, and a stouter 
 heart, and more ample resources in your nature, to call to 
 the service of defending and directing those innocent ones 
 who claim your protection and support? And consider, also, 
 how that gentle being was bowed down with unmitigated 
 affliction for years. How her bodily infirmities made her 
 life a weariness, and put gall and wormwood into the cup of 
 her enjoyment; and her constitution so shattered, that every 
 pulsation became a throb of pain. And must not her repose 
 in the tomb be sweet ? There she slumbers on, and her 
 peace is not broken by a single disturbing inffuence. As 
 
238 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 you watched with her through that long and painful scene of 
 suffering, from which you knew she could not recover and 
 that separation was inevitable, it was a relief to your sympa- 
 thising heart, when you saw her sinking sweetly on the 
 bosom of Jesus, and the light of her countenance blending 
 with the glory of another world ; so that, in death she was 
 beautiful, and her image peaceful as an angel in repose ; and 
 you surrendered back to heaven the jewel it had lent. And 
 now the quiet sepulchre speaks to you of the peaceful repose 
 of her spirit ; and those blooming flowers which are nourished 
 by her dust, image to your mind that beautiful immortality 
 which has become her inheritance forever. 
 
 Or, it may be that yours is the desolation of the widow, 
 and then you exclaimed, as you looked upon the cold and 
 lifeless form to which you had clung with so much confidence, 
 " How is the strong staff and beautiful rod broken !" And 
 that staff may have crumbled froni beneath you at a time 
 when it seemed to you and to others that you had most need 
 of its support. Difficult as it is to administer consolation to 
 those who almost refuse to be comforted, even the sepulchre 
 of a husband may utter messages which will kindle hope in 
 that desolate heart, and breathe a reviving cordial over that 
 drooping spirit. Perhaps, in the inscrutable ways of a 
 gracious Providence, that silent grave may have brought 
 quietness and peace to your soul. While living he may have 
 been the tower of your strength, and the rock of your hopes, and, 
 from a heart brimming with affection, shed around you such 
 a flood of happiness, that you sought no higher blessing, nor 
 
THE llEPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 239 
 
 felt the need of a more impregnable refuge. But in that day, 
 when the storm of affliction shook your tower until it fell into 
 a heap of ruins, your spirit, like an affrighted bird driven from 
 its nest, flew about until it rested on the Rock of ages ; and 
 as an inhabitant of the clefts of that Rock, it now sings in 
 cadences all the sweeter, because mellowed by bereavement. 
 
 "Rock of ages, shelter me! 
 Let me hide myself in thee ; 
 Let the water and the blood 
 From thy wounded side that flowed, 
 Be of sin the double cure ; 
 Cleanse me from its guilt and power." 
 
 And if you have sought and found rest in the embraces of 
 a Saviour's love, then have the chastisements of the Lord, 
 notwithstanding their painfulness, been the vehicle of price- 
 less good to you, forasmuch as that Providence which opened 
 a grave for your beloved also unlocked the door of your 
 soul's prison, and ushered you into the liberty of God's chil- 
 dren. And although your head shall no more repose on the 
 throbbing bosom of that husband, nor his arms encircle your 
 slender form, yet do you pillow your head upon the bosom- 
 of Jesus, and underneath you are the arms that sustain the 
 universe. Thus while He, whose judgments are past finding 
 out, has taken thy partner to rest. He has given himself to 
 thee, " for He is the father of the fatherless, and the husband 
 of the widow." And while you praise Him for bestowing 
 a greater treasure than He has taken, you would not recall 
 him whom you cherished so tenderly from his hallowed 
 repose, to pass again through the throes of death. 
 
240 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 0! how many precious little innocent ones now enjoy the 
 holy repose of the sepulchre. To them it has indeed become 
 a covert from the storms which blow along the pathway of 
 life. But young as many of these were when death overtook 
 them, and short as their race seemed, some of them suffered 
 more than others who lived to an advanced age. It will not 
 be deemed strange if I give a brief history of one, and thus 
 present a record of a great multitude. For are they not all 
 innocent and lovely.'' and is not the affection with which they 
 are cherished everywhere the same ? It was on the 22d of 
 February, 1845, in a pleasant village on the banks of the 
 Potomac, that we received our first-born from the Lord. An 
 angel-boy ; not only lovely in the eyes of his parents, 
 but all who knew him, seemed to be irresistibly drawn 
 to him. The natural comeliness of his faultless person was 
 heightened by unusual intelligence and loveliness of spirit. 
 He grew rapidly in stature and in wisdom ; and as his body 
 expanded and his snowy, ample brow hung about with 
 golden ringlets, he formed an image of rare beauty. He 
 was tenderly cherished, and perhaps too much engrossed the 
 affections of his fond parents. But he was a holy child ; and 
 of his own accord, before he could articulate words, com- 
 menced, and ever after statedly observed, secret devotion. In 
 his third year he would cause his little playmates to unite 
 with him in social worship. And as he always exhibited a 
 profound reverence for God and holy things, and delighted 
 in the w'orship of the sanctuary, we had formed our hopes 
 concerning him. We had pictured a bright future, when we 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 241 
 
 should see him walking iu the way to heaven, and luring 
 others on to glory. For such were our assurances of his 
 piety, gathered from his daily conversations, that we knew 
 God had already established his goings. On one occa- 
 sion, while his mother read the history of two good boys to 
 him, he exhibited a rare tenderness of conscience for one so 
 young; for, after attentively listening to the end, he seemed 
 deeply affected, and threw his arms about her neck, while 
 his eyes filled with tears, saying, " ma, I am bad because 
 I am yet so little." Such language from one who had never 
 manifested any disposition to be disobedient or unkind, and in 
 whose life we never had detected any fruits of depravity, 
 showed very clearly that he had been taught of the Holy 
 Spirit. But a mysterious Providence now sent us a sore 
 trial for our faith and his. He was visited with a painful and 
 distressing malady. Ah ! how painfully vivid are those long 
 nights and days of suffering before our minds ! Thrice did 
 he behold Nature rising from death renewed in vernal beaut}', 
 before the disease yielded and gradually withdrew from 
 his body ; so that his youth was renewed like the eagle's, and 
 we rejoiced as those who receive one from the dead. But 
 how uncertain are our hopes, and how vain our expectations ! 
 A month, a day, an hour may quench them all ! Our beauti- 
 ful boy, one morning as he rose from his slumbers, ran to me 
 and said, " pa, I had such a pretty dream last night !" On 
 being asked what it was, he replied, " I thought God came 
 down into ray room and took me out of my bed, and 
 21 
 
242 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 earned me up above the moon and the stars, and I saw so 
 many beautiful thuigs, and I saw persons with wings, and 
 they flew, and I flew about too : and all was so bright and 
 pretty !" That which was thus pictured upon his mind in a 
 dream, perhaps occasioned by his meditations, he was per- 
 mitted to realize in two weeks from that time. The cholera 
 broke out in our midst, and among its victims was our dear 
 child. ! how his sufferings did smite our hearts, and 
 pierce like a sword our very souls! It seemed as though our 
 own nature was dying, and every death-throe in our beloved 
 fdled us with fresh anguish. God! what bitterness there 
 is in the memory of that hour! But he longed for heaven, 
 and we yielded up our heart's treasure, our all, our only boy, 
 and said, " Go, our sweet boy, go ! we will no longer hold 
 thee back, since it is painful to thee ! May the deliverer come ! 
 Thy parents will no longer contend with him to retain thee ! 
 Go! then, our first born, our summer child; and if there 
 never more may come a summer to these hearts, still go, that 
 thou mayest have rest. Blessed be thou ! and blessed be He 
 also who gave thee to us, and who now taketh thee from us 
 to a better home- Some time, beloved son, we will come to 
 thee. Come, thou good deliverer — come, thou beloved 
 death, and give rest to his heart ; but easily, easily death." 
 And the little chest had heaved for the last time, a smile stole 
 upon his countenance and told us that he was with 
 God. But he sleeps far away from us, and we can only 
 express our feelings in the sweet strains of another bereaved 
 one: 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 243 
 
 "Thoughts of that little lonely grave, 
 Beneath the green-tree shade, 
 Come over me with anguish new. 
 As when it first was made ; 
 And "earth to earth," and "dust to dust," 
 Their fearful sound conveyed. 
 For there within, my first-born son 
 Was laid in slumber fair. 
 So life-like, that I did mistrust 
 That death was imaged there ; 
 They heaped the dark mould o'er his head, 
 And said a holy prayer. 
 And there he sleeps, so wonder not 
 That thus my tears will flow ; 
 That little grave — that lonely grave, — 
 To leave unguarded so ; 
 While far away from those sad scenes 
 I must forever go." 
 
 We can therefore join in the grief of the many bereaved 
 ones, whose homes have been desolated by death, and whose 
 hearts are robed in sackcloth. We can mingle our sorrows 
 as we recall with tears the sufferings of those dear innocent 
 ones. Ah, ye precious lambs, how can we forget that hour 
 when you looked wildly to us for help ; when you clasped 
 your little arms about our neck, and your little hearts were 
 fluttering out their last pulsations upon our anguished 
 bosoms. ! the scenes of that last hour, and that last look, 
 are forever present to our minds. But ye have overcome ; 
 ye have fallen asleep in Jesus ; and that heavenly radiance 
 that beamed upon your countenance, assured us that angels 
 pillowed your souls to rest ; and those bright and beautiful 
 things which opened to your vision, but which our eyes 
 could not see ; and those celestial melodies which charmed 
 
244 THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 your infant spirits away, but which vibrated not on mortal 
 ears ; all were imaged on your features. Ye glided peace- 
 fully av,-ay, as the rivulet loses itself in the stream ; as dew- 
 drops ye sparkled a little while, until drawn up by the light 
 and warmth of eternal love to mingle with the fellowship and 
 glory of heaven. 
 
 " Happy spirits, ye arc fled, 
 
 Where no grief can entrance find ; 
 Lull'd to rest the aching head ; 
 
 Sooth'd the anguish of the mind. 
 Every tear is wiped away, 
 
 Sighs no more shall heave the breast; 
 Night is lost in endless day, 
 
 Sorrow in eternal rest." 
 
 But we will cherish your memories ; we will religiously 
 preserve those dear images which the blessed sunlight has 
 pencilled on the steel, but we will not wish you back. No ! 
 not even to still these aching bosoms, nor to fill that void 
 which your removal has occasioned, and which all the world 
 cannot replenish. Blessed, happy ones! to have gone so 
 early, and so innocently, from earth to heaven. 
 
 ! is it not a great consolation to know that they rest in 
 peace ? Had we gone first, we could not have had the same 
 firm assurance that they would follow us to heaven. The 
 young are exposed to many dangers, both from the corrup- 
 tions of their own hearts, and from the temptations of the 
 world. Sin is a serpent which first charms, and then winds 
 its immense folds around its unsuspecting victims, until it 
 chains them firmly to vice. New sources of corruption are 
 multiplying continually, so that the parent is really happy. 
 
THE REPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 245 
 
 whose family has gone before him to the " rest that remaineth 
 for the people of God." Well may such exclaim with the 
 patriarch, " the Lord gave, the Lord has taken away, blessed 
 be the name of the Lord." For while our sainted ones have 
 escaped all dangers, they are also exempt from those sorrows 
 which are incident to the life of pilgrims on earth. The 
 ills which cling to our humanity, and the distresses which 
 are felt on our progress to eternity ; the languor of disease, 
 and the infu'mities of age, shall never afflict them with tlieir 
 hard pressures. Only a few storms beat around them in the 
 morning of life, and now their eternal existence is unclouded 
 and glorious. How much more blessed are they, than God's 
 most favored children on earth! Here we toil ; yonder they 
 rest. Here we often weep ; there they rejoice ; and while we 
 are tossed by temptations, and anguished by fears, eternal 
 sunshine plays around their heads, and ravishing melodies 
 flow from their lips. The distant echoes of that music now 
 vibrate upon my ear, and my heart throbs with emotions of 
 delight under the conscious persuasion that I have furnished 
 one to that company of harpers around the eternal throne — 
 that one, who was " bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh," 
 stands in the presence of God, and utters the hallelujahs of 
 heaven. And ! how it will relieve the last hour of its 
 bitterness, and kindle raptures in the heart laboring in the 
 throes of death, to know that there are precious ones just 
 beyond Jordan, all bright and glorious, ready to fly into our 
 embraces, and welcome us to the joys of a bhssfu] immor- 
 tality ! Father of all mercies, forgive these yearnings after 
 21 '^' 
 
246 THE KEPOSE OF THE HOLY DEAD. 
 
 our beloved, if they partake of aught that is sinful. Give us 
 a quiet and submissive spirit in every trial. Let the light of 
 thy countenance fall upon every dark scene which thy wis- 
 dom ordains for us, and help us always to feel that thou art 
 good, for — 
 
 " By our path of ti'ial, thou plantest still 
 Thy lilies of consolation ; 
 But the loveliest of all, to do thy vrill 
 Be it done in resignation," 
 
CHAPTER TWELFTH. 
 
 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OP THE VALUE AND 
 IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 
 
 •' It must be so ; Plato, thou reasonest well, 
 Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, 
 This longing after immortality ? 
 Or whence this secret dread and inward horror 
 Of falling into naught ? Why shrinks the soul 
 Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 
 'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us ; 
 'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 
 And intimates eternity to man." 
 
 When gazing upon the ruins of a palace, the first emotions 
 of surprise and sadness will be quickly succeeded by reflec- 
 tions connected with the inhabitants that either escaped from 
 the fallen pile, or perished in the ruins. And thus, also, 
 when standing by the sepulchre of a departed one, we may 
 utter our lamentations as we remember the former condition 
 of that body which now moulders under the power of corrup- 
 tion, while our thoughts are associated with the soul that 
 animated it. That body was once instinct with life ; it 
 breathed, and moved, and spoke, and performed all those 
 noble functions for which the Creator had designed it. That 
 pulseless heart once swelled with lofty emotions ; it was the 
 
 (247) 
 
248 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 home of generous friendships and the empire of holy love. 
 Those feet which, with swift and unfaltering step, trod the 
 path of duty, are motionless. That arm, once nerved with 
 strength and lifted to the execution of exalted purposes, now 
 lies helpless across the manly chest which had heaved in 
 unison with the grand designs of Jehovah. And that eye, 
 which was wont to flame with intellectual fire, is dim ; and 
 that brow, on which glowed eloquent thought, is stricken 
 with the pallor of death ; and the entire appearance of that 
 house of clay forcibly illustrates the declaration of the Psalm- 
 ist, " Thou changest his countenance, and sendest him 
 away." But while contemplating the ruins of the earthly 
 mansion, do we not instinctively ask, where is the spirit, the 
 former inhabitant of this ruined temple ? There is, perhaps, 
 ho subject which has more universally and intensely occupied 
 the attention of mankind in the different periods of the 
 world's history, than the nature and destiny of the soul. It 
 has always awakened deep and earnest thoughts among the 
 reflecting, and commanded the profound meditations of 
 ancient philosophers. Among these we number as the most 
 prominent, Socrates and Plato, who approximated the solution 
 of the problem of our being, although they did not succeed 
 in their efforts to unravel the mystery in which it was 
 involved. All men had certain internal intimations and 
 vague apprehensions of the soul's future existence ; but these 
 pushed their inquiries farther, and obtained more elevated 
 ideas of its nature and destiny. 
 
 Job asked the question, " If a man die, shall he live 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 249 
 
 again ?" If not, then religion is a delusion, the Bible a fable, 
 and eternity a dream. Then may we, then ought we, to 
 snatch from the passing moments of the present every thing 
 which can be made tributary to our enjoyment. But if we 
 shall exist hereafter, then life becomes a solemn reality ; and 
 religion, and the Bible, and eternity, the most momentous 
 subjects that can engage the attention of rational beings. 
 And then, also, will we regard as thrillingly important the 
 questions which so frequently propound themselves to the 
 mind : What am I ? Whence have I come, and whither am 
 I going ? What is the beginning, the nature, and design of 
 my existence ? Does it stop in the tomb, or stretch into the 
 far-beyond of internainable ages ? If I regard myself as 
 nothing more than a bit of organized dust, which is to be 
 scattered to the winds by the breath of the destroyer, I will 
 certainly not order my walk and conversation with any 
 reference to the future. But if I recognize in myself an 
 immortal being, I will find my thoughts at once linked and 
 associated with eternal realities ; so that very important results 
 are to flow from the manner in which I answer these 
 questions. If a man thinks at all, his reflections must some- 
 times be connected with his own mysterious being. The 
 history of other objects, and the changes through which they 
 pass to work out their appropriate results, will necessarily 
 suggest inquiries as to his own future. He beholds death at 
 work everywhere in Nature. The forest and the field are 
 stripped of their excellent glory ; and the pall of decay, and 
 the blight of desolation, at certain periods mantle the material 
 
250 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 creation around him. But he also beholds those things 
 which had descended into the grave of winter reproduced 
 under new and even more beautiful forms. " There is 
 hope of a tree," saith Job, " if it be cut down, that it will 
 sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not 
 cease." And is it possible that man should die and not live 
 again? Shall the soul participate in the decay of the body? 
 Does it cease to exist and to think? and is it struck with 
 eternal sleep, and laid in the darksome grave to wake no 
 more forever ? 
 
 " Can it be 
 Matter immortal? And shall spirit die? 
 Above the noble shall less noble rise ! 
 Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, 
 No resurrection know ? Shall man alone, 
 Imperial man ! be sown in barren ground, 
 Less privileged than grain on which he feeds ? 
 
 The sentiments embodied in this language come with 
 peculiar urgency to us at the sepulchres of our departed, and 
 demand an explicit answer before we can surrender them 
 with a cheerful heart. To the question, then, which the 
 patriarch propounds, and which is reiterated by the poet, " If 
 a man die shall he live again ?" we unhesitatingly and un- 
 qualifiedly respond in the affirmative. 
 
 The soul carries within its own nature the most conclusive 
 proofs of its immortality. What is the soul ? It is not 
 material. It cannot be seen, nor handled ; neither is it 
 subject to those laws which govern material things. And on 
 this very ground has the atheist triumphantly asked, how can 
 I believe in the existence of something which is intangible 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 251 
 
 to my senses ? Can that exist whose form eludes my vision 
 and my touch ? But we might ask such whether they ever 
 saw^ the pain which has wrung from them cries of anguish ? 
 or whether they can discern and scan the dimensions of those 
 powers whose unseen energies robe our earth with innumer- 
 able blessings ? Or can they go behind the visible effects of 
 that veiled and mysterious energy which fills the universe 
 with life, and motion, and beauty, and describe its character- 
 istics? And surely none will presume to deny the existence 
 of this hidden force which resides in the organism of nature ; 
 for it is manifested on a magnificent scale through all her 
 domain, while it is proclaimed by the revolutions of the heavenly 
 bodies, by the royal sound of thunder, and in the voice of 
 the earthquake. And are there not in like manner the most 
 imposing monuments to attest the existence of the soul ? 
 Whence are those systems of human law in which we find 
 concentrated the rays of wisdom which lay scattered 
 through the different ages of the world ? There could not be 
 a more sublime monument to human genius than our own 
 code of civil jurisprudence. And to what parentage do we 
 ascribe the philosophy, the science, the learning, and the 
 useful inventions which have contributed so largely to the 
 advancement and happiness of the race ? Are not all these 
 the offspring of the same parent — the intellect, effects pro- 
 duced by the spiritual and immaterial part of man ? Men 
 universally acknowledge a distinction between the products 
 of matter and those which emanate from that intelligent, 
 thinking being which resides in these houses of clay. It is, 
 
252 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 moreover, the soul which elevates raan above the irrational 
 animal creation. As to his body, he is conscious of all the 
 wants, passions, and appetites of an animal ; but " there is a 
 spirit in raan, and the breath of the Almighty hath given him 
 understanding." And it is this spirit which links him in 
 fellowship with God and his angels. It is this which clothes 
 him with honor, and gives him a position of pre-eminence in 
 relation to other creatures, and makes him lord of the earth. 
 The body is dust, and is irresistibly drawn to its origin ; but 
 the soul is conscious of a higher destiny, and aspires to a 
 glorious immortality. It is to his spiritual nature that man 
 is indebted for his conceptions of God ; for that which he 
 sees and enjoys ; for his ability to invent and project ; to con- 
 trol his individual actions, or to preside over the affairs of an 
 empire. For it is the soul which thinks, and reasons, and 
 wills, and acts. Our actions are not the results of a peculiar 
 organization, as infidelity, under the name of science, has 
 sometimes attempted to establish — an assumption which is as 
 foolish as it is wicked, and which must always have a low 
 origin, and a still lower tendency. Such teachings are 
 not the legitimate offspring of science, but a bastard brood 
 which have been falsely baptized scientific ; forasmuch as a 
 system never rises to the dignity of a science unless it is 
 based upon immutable deductions and demonstrations, drawn 
 from established and incontrovertible facts ; none of which 
 can be claimed for the pratings of infidelity, nor for any of 
 those perversions of true science which have been pressed 
 into the service of a bad cause. Fortunately for sound 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 253 
 
 morality, for religion, and the cause of truth, the abandoned 
 lives of these votaries of evil furnish such a commentary on 
 their system as will forever prevent its adoption by those 
 who are not prepared to plunge themselves and society into 
 hopeless ruin. For what other result could ensue if the 
 cheerless fatalism of ancient times were brought back upon 
 society, to justify the corruptions and vices of the depraved. 
 If mankind could be made to believe that man's moral actions 
 are the results of his physical and intellectual structure, 
 then there would be no escape from the conclusion that all 
 the penalties which government inflicts upon the violators 
 of law, are gross outrages committed upon those criminals ; 
 for where is the right to punish, when there is no power to 
 refrain from the commission of crime ? The brute and the 
 maniac are not subjects of government; neither do men 
 denounce the fire and steam, or any other destructive 
 element which may have occasioned the loss of life. 
 
 If a man's actions are as the leaves and fruit of a tree, the 
 legitimate growth of his nature, and not the offspring of his 
 will, he can no longer be regarded as a responsible agent, 
 and therefore cannot be justly punished for any transgression 
 which flows from a constitutional necessity. The admission 
 of this doctrine would constrain us to regard the entire 
 social structure as wrong, and totally subversive of every 
 principle of right, and the acts of the vicious as misfortunes 
 and not crimes. And this would not only conflict with all 
 the interests of society, and strike at the very existence and 
 peace of social life, but is in direct opposition to the Divine 
 22 
 
254 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 government. For wiih what justice could God punish the 
 incorrigible sinner, if he is the child of immutable fate, and 
 acts only in conformity with the laws of his being? But 
 such are not the teachings of reason, of conscience, or of 
 the Bible. All these assure us that our actions are the 
 results of a free, intelligent, and therefore accountable, soul 
 within us. It is not a material organization, but a depraved 
 heart and a perverted will, which darken the life of man 
 with crime. Such are the utterances of heaven respecting 
 the soul ; and with these the consciousness of man fully co- 
 incides ; and he is, therefore, placed in a sphere allied to that 
 of angels. 
 
 Thought and reflection are also properties peculiar to the 
 mind. Matter can never be made to think. It may undergo 
 refining processes, be turned into a gaseous or fluid state, but 
 through whatever crucible it may pass, and whatever combi- 
 nations it may be made to assume, it never rises to the 
 dignity of intelligence. Man is the author of wonderful 
 discoveries, and has made almost all things tributary to his 
 will, and subject to his power; but among all the nicely 
 contrived machinery of which he is the architect, there is 
 nothing which is able to endow matter with the faculty of 
 thought. This is a property of the soul, and incontestably 
 demonstrates that it is essentially distinct in its nature from 
 material substances, and therefore, not subject to those laws 
 which control the physical man. It cannot be impaired or 
 destroyed like the body. You may chain the human form, 
 load its limbs w'ith fetters of iron, and so oppress and 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 255 
 
 waste it by confinement, as to destroy its life by starvation, 
 or torture, but you can forge no fetters with which to manacle 
 the soul. It scorns all the implements of tyranny, and bids 
 defiance to the gloomy cell and the walled prison. From 
 the deepest and darkest dungeon into which the body may 
 be cast, the soul will soon soar away in its thoughts at plea- 
 sure to whatever fields of knowledge and enjoyment it may 
 delight to explore. Behold Paul, the ambassador of Christ, 
 while incarcerated at Rome ; though cut off from social 
 intercourse with friends, yet was he in sympathy with the 
 Church and in communion with God. His heart never 
 pulsated with freer emotions and loftier purposes, than while 
 from his narrow cell there issued those inspired intellectual crea- 
 tions, which are still going round the globe, publishing the 
 blessings and mysteries of redemption to a lost world. His 
 oppressors had loaded his hands with chains, but they could 
 not bind the faculties of his immortal spirit. His aspirations 
 darted like viewless angels to the bosom of God, and to the 
 throne of tiie Mediator, when he penned that triumphant 
 assurance — "I know in whom I have believed, and am- 
 persuaded that He is able to keep that, which I have com- 
 mitted to Him, against that day." And the like experience 
 had all " that cloud of witnesses, of whom the world was not 
 worthy." And it was in view of the spiritual nature of the 
 soul, which placed it beyond the reach of human violence, 
 that the Saviour exhorted his disciples — "Fear not them 
 which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul ; but 
 rather fear him that is able to destroy both soul and body in 
 
256 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 hell." The body soon reaches its maturity, then enters upon 
 its decline, and presently sinks into a heap of ruins ; but it is 
 not so with the spirit. The dying testimonies of millions 
 have furnished the most conclusive proof, that the soul r'e- 
 mains vigorous and unimpaired amid the decays of the body. 
 If any of its faculties seem to fail, or perform their office 
 feebly, we shall find the cause of that feebleness in the 
 weakness of those organs through which they act, and not in 
 any diminished strength of the soul. The great intellects 
 which have shone conspicuously in the civil and religious 
 world, and commanded the homage of mankind, never 
 uttered greater thoughts than when standing on that crumb- 
 ling precipice, where the interests of time and eternity blend 
 Luther and Knox, Washington and Napoleon, Clay and 
 Webster, never displayed greater intellectual force than near 
 the close of their earthly pilgrimage. And is it not equally 
 true of all, the action of whose minds is not crippled by 
 diseased organs, that while the harbingers of death were 
 busy in taking dow^n their tenement of clay, they uttered 
 thoughts wide and deep as eternity. And should not 
 the testimony of the soul in regard to its undying 
 nature be received, as it is uttered on the very thres- 
 hold of an endless futurity, and when in the very act of 
 gathering up its energies for the immortal flight ? Ah ! he 
 who has stood by the couch of the dying righteous, or the 
 wicked, and witnessed the kindlings of unutterable raptures 
 as the glories of heaven unfolded to the vision of the depart- 
 ing ; or seen the sullen gloom of despair settling upon the 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 257 
 
 coantenance as a dark and fearful destiny came thronging 
 upon his inner consciousness, can have no skepticism as to 
 the soul's immortality. Said one who was passing to a 
 better home — "My heart is so full of happiness, that it 
 seems to me that I could give out to all the world, and it 
 would still be overflowing." 
 
 It has been my painful duty on more than one occasion 
 to witness awful premonitions of despair in the dying whom 
 I was called to attend. The case of a young man to whom 
 I was warmly attached, was of this melancholy character. 
 He was sent in early life to try his fortune in one of our large 
 cities. He obtained a situation in an extensive mercantile 
 establishment, and by his aptness and intelligence, and the 
 interest which he exhibited in the business of his employers, 
 soon won their esteem and confidence. After a short appren- 
 ticeship he was placed at the head of the establishment. He 
 displayed unusual business tact, and such were his qualifi- 
 cations for his responsible post, that he managed with great 
 success nearly all the business affairs of the firm. His em- 
 ployers had unbounded confidence in his judgment and 
 honesty, and therefore committed to his trust the care of the 
 house during their absence, or while giving their attention to 
 other duties. But that young man, like too many others, 
 found no home in the families of those merchants, and no 
 watchful counselors in those whom he served. And ! how 
 many youths are there in our large cities, over whom em- 
 ployers exercise no parental care, and no moral influence for 
 good ! They scarcely know where they lodge, and perhaps 
 
 22* 
 
258 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 never inquire what associations they form ; and yet who can 
 doubt that those who are served by these young men, have 
 resting upon them a tremendous responsibility, and that 
 they are solemnly bound to bring them under such religious 
 influences as will save them from the temptations to which 
 they are exposed ? Removed from the influences of home, 
 from the light of a mother's smiles, and where the gentle 
 power of the love of brothers and sisters is not felt; and 
 add to this the small compensation for their labor, and their 
 uncomfortable lodging^s, and we need not marvel that so 
 many who go to our large cities uncorrupted soon become 
 familiar with vice in all its forms, and fall victims to their 
 passions. 
 
 Such was the condition of my unhappy friend. Having 
 no amusement at his lodgings, he sought the company of the 
 multitude. It was at the theatre that his passions were 
 kindled into burning, and it was there that he formed 
 associations which led him into dishonesty and crime. For 
 a number of years he succeeded in concealing the appropria- 
 tion made of his employers' funds to his own use, until, 
 emboldened, he ventured upon outlays which excited suspi- 
 cion and induced inquiry, and his guilt was detected. Find- 
 ing that a prosecution might follow, he fled ; but the life which 
 he had led had already shattered his constitution, and poisoned 
 the fountain of health. Soon after he was more seriously 
 smitten with disease, and he returned home to die. For a 
 number of weeks did I visit him ; and often, when seated by 
 his bedside, I discovered the workings of intense anguish 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OP THE SOUL. 259 
 
 in his countenance. But as I was ignorant of his guilt, and 
 accustomed to regard him as one possessed not only of a 
 brilliant mind, but also of a virtuous character, I ascribed 
 those indications of distress to bodily anguish. After 
 repeated efforts to learn his views on the subject of religion 
 and his preparation for eternity, in which I failed, I had 
 painful misgivings as to the correctness of the opinion which 
 I had formed of his character. A few weeks had passed 
 away, and my anxiety for his soul increased, as I could dis- 
 cover no change for the better in his body or mind. One 
 day a messenger came in great haste, and, weeping, begged 
 my immediate attention to poor L. I hastened to the 
 presence of the dying man ; and the first words that fell 
 upon my ear as I entered the room were, " 0, my friend, I 
 am lost! I am lost!" I drew near and took hold of his 
 hand, and began to speak to him of the mercy and compas- 
 sion of God. I told him of the tenderness of Jesus, and 
 of the many promises and invitations he had left to the 
 penitent guilty. I assured him that He was a great and 
 compassionate Redeemer ; — that He was not only willing, 
 " but mighty to save to the uttermost, all that come unto 
 God through him." But to all that I could urge he replied, 
 *' it is too late! too late!" I brought before his mind the 
 thief upon the cross, upon whom Christ had mercy, and 
 entreated him to call upon the Saviour for pardon, but he 
 would not pray. I besought him then, to repeat after me 
 such petitions as I might offer, and he still refused ; and 
 finally I urged him by the relation I sustained to him, and 
 
THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THB 
 
 the solemn realities of that eternity into which he was aboul 
 to enter, to pronounce the publican's prayer, " God be merciful 
 to me, a sinner ;" and told him how even one earnest believ- 
 ing prayer might open the gate of heaven to that soul which 
 throws itself upon the bleeding sacrifice of Calvary ; but he 
 would not. With an oppressed heart I bowed myself in 
 supplication before the Lord, for my poor friend, and having 
 commended him to the favor and clemency of a merciful 
 Sovereign, I rose and took my departure ; but before I 
 reached my carriage, a messenger recalled me. As soon as 
 I entered his chamber, he ordered all his attendants and 
 friends to retire and leave us alone. After they had all with- 
 drawn, he fixed his eyes upon me with great earnestness, and 
 thus addressed me: "Mr. A., you will remember that you 
 are in the chamber of death, and what you are about to hear, 
 is from the lips of a dying man, who has no motive to 
 deceive. I cannot go to eternity with this burden on my 
 soul, and therefore, I sent for you to make certain disclosures 
 of my life." He then gave a statement of his past history, 
 which I will not repeat. At the conclusion of this confession, 
 he drew me nearer o his pillow, and then in tones which 
 seemed the concentration of despair, he added — "O ray 
 friend, I am damned." I again endeavored as well as I 
 could (for I was overcome with his distress), to kindle hope 
 in that desolate heart. I suggested to him that these feelings 
 might perhaps be nothing more than sudden terror, induced 
 by his situation, or his mind might be wandering ; but to ah 
 I could say he answered emphatically and firmly in the 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 261 
 
 negative. " Sir," said he, " my mind was never clearer than 
 it is at this moment ; I am capable of appreciating the kind- 
 ness of your instructions, but I know my situation, hell has 
 commenced its torments ;" and placing his hand upon his 
 bosom, he said, with unutterable anguish — " it is here, hell 
 is already here.''^ He then turned to me, and taking my 
 hand, he thanked me for my attention to him, and said, " Go 
 now, my faithful friend, I know this is painful to you," and 
 he pressed his last farewell. A few hours after that interview 
 he passed into eternity, and was in the hands of a merciful 
 (iod. 
 
 Painfully vivid is that scene imprinted upon my mind ; and 
 often have I re-examined every particular connected with the 
 
 last hours of ray kind but unhappy friend L , to see if I 
 
 could not gather even a feeble hope, that he might have been 
 under the influence of delirium induced by bodily pain ; but 
 there was the clear eye, flashing with all the steady intelli- 
 gence that emanates from a mind acknowledging the 
 dominion of reason, and just as he had looked a thousanil 
 times upon me. I have but one observation to make in 
 connection wuth this melancholy, but unembellished record 
 of the last hours of- an amiable and gifted young man, and it 
 is this. If the testimony of the dying in relation to worldly 
 business is received in the highest courts of human judicature, 
 as the most reliable evidence which can be produced in a 
 cause that is tried, are we not warranted to regard such testi- 
 mony when it relates to the nature and destiny of the 
 soul as stamped with the most undoubted veracity ? I 
 
262 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 confess that to my mind those premonitions of tlie realities 
 of a coming eternity, constitute an incontrovertible proof of 
 the soul's immortality. 
 
 But another argument for the endless existence of man's 
 spiritual being, may be drawn from the nature of material 
 substances at which I have already hinted. It is universally 
 conceded by philosophers that matter is indestructible. You 
 may change its form and diminish its bulk, but you cannot 
 destroy it. The oak of centuries may be hewn down and 
 reduced to ashes, but this is only changing its form, and not 
 annihilating its material properties. The water which flowed 
 in its pores will be exhaled into the air ; the clouds will carry 
 it on swift wing to the far-off mountain, where they shed it 
 down to feed the fountain which replenishes the stream that 
 carries its tribute of waters to the ocean. The heat which 
 it contained will pass into that mass of caloric which W'arras 
 the earth and promotes the growth of plants and trees. And 
 thus all the solids and fluids of that oak are minglinsr again 
 with those kindred elements which produce another of its 
 kind. And if such be the privilege and mission of matter, 
 is the presumption reasonable that the spirit in man, the 
 immediate offspring of Deity, should sink into a cheerless 
 nonenity after its connection with the body is dissolved ? 
 
 " Look nature through : 'tis revolution all; 
 All change ; no death. Day follows night, and night 
 The dying day ; stars rise, and set, and rise ; 
 Earth takes the example. See the summer gay, 
 With her green chaplet and ambrosial flowers, 
 Droops into pallid autumn : winter grey 
 
VALUE AND IMxMOllTALITY OF THE SOUL. 263 
 
 Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, 
 
 Blows Autuiiiu and his golden fruits away, 
 
 Then melts into the spring ; soft spring, with breath 
 
 Favonian, from warm chambers of the south, 
 
 Recalls the tirst. All, to reflourish, fades ; 
 
 As in a wheel, all sinks to reascend, 
 
 Emblems of man, who passes, not expires." 
 
 This imaofe is as charminfj as it is true of our life and 
 destiny. As all things in nature die only to live again, and 
 as the stars of heaven retire from our view to shine on other 
 lands, so man dieth that he may rise to a nobler existence ; 
 and the liffht of his soul is withdrawn from observers on 
 earth that it may shine among the blessed in God's presence 
 forever. And is it not consoling to bereaved ones to know 
 that their departed live ? O, yes, that beautiful immortality 
 which is not obscured by a cloud nor swept by a single storm 
 can rebuild our wrecked happiness ; for even its hope, that 
 glows within our souls, brings to the weary and faint refresh- 
 ing draughts from the river that flows from the midst of the 
 throne of God and the Lamb. For we know that our sainted 
 are gone, and that we are following after to that cloudless 
 home where decay and blight never fall upon the inhabitants, 
 but where all flourish in immortal bloom ; so that the brief 
 existence here, and all the calamities which darken it, shrink 
 into insigniticance when placed by the side of that glowing 
 immortality for which all the holy are destined. 
 
 The immortality of the soul may also be inferred from its 
 constitutional frame-work. There is nothing in all material 
 and animated nature that resembles it in its structure. What 
 a noble being it is ! How unlike all other objects ! Behold 
 
264 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 its reasoning faculties — the judgment, the will, the imagina- 
 tion, the memory, and conscience. All these powers per- 
 form distinct functions, yet act in concert, and produce 
 amazing results. Reason solves the most difficult problems ; 
 and its deductions are adopted or rejected, according to the 
 dictates of conscience. The memory is its great store-house 
 where its treasures accumulate, and are hoarded for 
 eternity. The imagination wings its flight through immen- 
 sity, and gathers within its circling sweep the universe. The 
 thoughts and affections soar into the sanctities of heaven, and 
 with bright spirits, cluster around the throne of eternal love. 
 It is fitted for reflection ; and its meditations may compass 
 earth and heaven, and range from the worm to the archangel, 
 and from the flowers of the field to those which are " the 
 poetry of the skies." Its contemplations may stretch from 
 the newly-created Eden, flushed in its sinless glory, to the 
 smoulderinsf wreck from which the " new earth " shall rise 
 resplendent with righteousness. It is qualified to hold 
 communion with other intelligences distinguished or humble 
 in the distant past or the far-off' future, with men, with angels, 
 and with God. Surely such a wonderful structure was not 
 reared by Almighty power to be shattered by the stroke of 
 death into a heap of ruins, before it had time to fill out its 
 immense proportions. Is it possible that the soul's destiny 
 lies within the limits of this earthly existence ? Would such 
 a supposition be in harmony with reason, and consonant 
 with that plan of Divine procedure which we witness in His 
 other creations? It is incredible, because in conflict with 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 265 
 
 those great and \Yise principles which run through all His 
 works and government. For, what do we see in the soul ? 
 A being which has upon it the marks of an incipient great- 
 ness and grandeur which must not only burst all mortal 
 fetters and earthly limits, but which clearly demand a bound- 
 less eternity for their appropriate development and full 
 maturity. There are the dawnings of a splendor, and the 
 magnificence of a glory in its intellectual and moral exercises, 
 which infallibly intimate a future and higher sphere of 
 activity, in which these will rise to their true dignity, and 
 radiate their destined effulgence. All the aspirations and 
 impulses of the mind clamor for enlargement. Like a 
 fettered prisoner, it is impatient of its bonds, and labors to 
 burst those barriers which now circumscribe the compass of 
 its action. It spurns all the offerings of earth as utterly un- 
 suited to fill its immense capacities, or to furnish it with that 
 largeness of bliss for which it yearns. Its desires and affec- 
 tions are so insatiable, and seek for such an exalted good, 
 that they pass above and beyond all earthly pomp and all 
 human greatness, to gather within their compass God and 
 eternity. 
 
 We regard, therefore, this peculiarity of the soul as one 
 which adds force to our argument, viz. : that, unlike all the 
 creatures around it, it never attains to its full maturity on 
 earth. When we examine the animal and insect tribes which 
 throng this world, we discover that unless their existence is 
 violently cut short, they all arrive at the perfection of their 
 being. The fowls of the air and the beasts of the field are 
 23 
 
266 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 now what they have always been. The law of instinct which 
 guides them to the food suited to their natures, remains 
 unchanged. The plumage of the eagle and of the dove, as 
 well as their dispositions and habits, are the same now as 
 when they left paradise to roam over the earth. The swallow 
 builds her nest in the same manner as when she found a 
 place for her young near the altar of God. The stork and 
 the ant afford now the same instruction to the thoughtless 
 and slothful, as when Jeremiah and Solomon cited their 
 conduct as a reproof to Israel. The beaver has made no 
 improvement in the building of his dam, nor the bee in 
 forming the honey-comb, since these creatures first com- 
 menced their toil. And the pursuits and instincts of all the 
 inferior animated creation, are precisely the same as they 
 were six thousand years ago. They arrive in a given time 
 ranging from a moment to a few years, at a point beyond 
 which none of their kind will ever pass. But it is not so 
 with man : he knows not what a full-grown soul is. From 
 paradise onward to the present period, there has been a 
 steady improvement in all that relates to the human species. 
 Agriculture, arts, government, commerce and education have 
 all risen from a feeble and imperfect infancy, to their present 
 advancement, and all of them are daily pushing towards a 
 higher degree of perfection. The range of human knowledge 
 has been widening from age to age, and man's intellectual 
 and moral exertions are enlarging as the race advances in 
 civilization and religion. And in this we find conclusive 
 proof, that all the elements of our spiritual being are suscep- 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 267 
 
 tible of indefinite improvement, and that upon all the intel- 
 lectual and moral faculties of man, there is written the law* 
 of unlimited progress, which furnishes an impregnable 
 argument for the immortality of the soul. For if all things 
 else which have come from the hands of the infinitely perfect 
 Creator, grovv' in conformity with those laws which govern 
 their existence until they have passed into full maturity ; is it 
 presumptuous to claim the same destiny for the soul, the 
 noblest of all His works ? Can the thought be entertained, 
 or the stupendous folly find an advocate, that an all-wise 
 God would annihilate the spirit that claims kindred with 
 Himself, and that too, before it has reached the grand theatre 
 of its immortal exertions ? Perish the thought, for it has no 
 foundation but in those corruptions of man, which make him 
 afraid to live. Every theory which predicates the extinction 
 of the soul, is insane, at war with the Divine character, 
 and in conflict with all our conceptions of the fitness of things. 
 Our consciousness, together with all the yearnings of our 
 being, rise up to demonstrate our immortality. And this 
 assurance is not peculiar to men of the present generation, 
 but is in harmony with the convictions of mankind in all the 
 past ages of the world. There is no nation, whether barba- 
 rous or civilized, savage or cultivated, pagan or Christian, 
 that has not left memorials of its faith in the soul's immortality. 
 And all these considerations favourable to another and a 
 better life beyond the grave, are confirmed and established 
 by the holy oracles. The scriptures assure us that when God 
 had formed man, " He breathed into hira the breath of life^ 
 
268 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 and man became a living soul." The soul is therefore the 
 immediate offspring of Deity, a spark from the Infinite Intelli- 
 gence, a part of the Everlasting God ; and it might be as 
 easily proved that He who formed it will cease to exist, as to 
 show that the spirit will not survive the WTeck of the body. 
 " The dust shall return to dust, but the spirit to God who 
 gave it." The Prophets, our Lord Jesus, and His Apostles, 
 all have clearly and incontrovertibly set forth this doctrine. 
 A denial of our immortality would divest the Bible and Pro- 
 vidence of their solemn investiture and awful meaning, and 
 destroy the ground-work of Christianity, while it would leave 
 us no assignable reason for the many and mighty agencies 
 now in force to fit man for that nobler existence, which lies 
 beyond the grave and which is immutably certain. 
 
 From the nature and destiny of the soul, we may draw 
 invaluable consolations for the bereaved. To know that the 
 souls of our beloved escape unhurt from the ruins of the 
 body, is a reflection full of comfort. To be assured by the 
 profoundest deductions of reason, and by the testimony of 
 Almighty God, that the departed, if possessed of those 
 qualifications of purity which fit them for heaven, live with 
 Him forever, is cheering beyond expression. The eagle 
 which escapes from its cage, soars not with so much exultation 
 into his native skies, as those weary spirits did into the 
 presence of Jehovah. But among the many consolatory 
 reflections with which the bereaved may comfort themselves, 
 we may submit the following. 
 
 They should remember that the ransomed are delivered 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 269 
 
 from all those impediments to the acquisition of knowledge, 
 which embarrassed their efforts on earth. Every barrier is 
 broken down ; every obstruction wliicli hindered the inflows 
 of knowledge removed. And as knowledge brings pleasure, 
 and especially that which consists in clear perceptions of the 
 Divine character, we see how this will contribute to their hap- 
 piness. As the soul moves in its contemplations over the 
 infinite dimensions of its eternal home, and discovers increased 
 beauty and loveliness in all its progress amid the illimitable 
 wonders of Jehovah, it will be conscious of a similar enlarge- 
 ment of its joy. As its eye darts over the unveiled glories of 
 immensity, and its ear drinks in the melodies of heavenly 
 rapture, it will be filled with a corresponding increase of bliss. 
 The redeemed are also free from all imperfections. They 
 will have no sins to bewail, no errors to lament ; but as they are 
 perfectly holy, they are perfectly happy. And as our happiness 
 is proportionate to the extent and purity of the range of our 
 intellectual and moral faculties, those must be infinitely 
 blessed, from whom all things are removed which could in 
 any wise interfere with their exertions. What a happy con- 
 dition is theirs! what an unclouded and unending felicity is 
 their portion ! When a beloved child, or a cherished friend 
 goes to a distant land, and we receive a communication in 
 which he describes the healthfalness of the climate, the beauty 
 of the landscape, the richness and excellence of its produc- 
 tions, the elevated condition of society, and his improved 
 circumstances and still brighter prospects, do we not feel 
 contented when we know that he who languished in the 
 23* 
 
270 THE SEPULCHRE REMINDS US OF THE 
 
 home he has left, now enjoys health and prosperity ? Such a 
 communication of the happy condition of the sainted has God 
 sent us. " They hunger no more, neither thirst any more, 
 neither is there any more pain." And shall not these utter- 
 ances from heaven in regard to the glorified ones around 
 God's throne, fill us with a pious resignation to the Divine 
 will, and inspire our hearts with joy and peace in the midst 
 of our desolated homes ? O ! yes ; we may comfort ourselves, 
 for -although they have died, they live again, and that forever. 
 The former temple is in ruins, but the latter into which they 
 have entered is more glorious, because filled with the presence 
 and glory of God. And should not the fact that we are heirs 
 of the same immortality, reconcile us to the aflflictions and 
 trials which are needed to prepare us for that glorious future ? 
 Should not the prospect of entering that unbounded scene of 
 glory stretching through the interminable ages of eternity, 
 kindle such purposes, and give birth to such a course of 
 preparation as under the blessing of the Holy Spirit will fit us 
 to reign with God forever? And as expectants of such 
 a destiny, should we not fly from, and loathe every thing 
 which could mar the hope of such a brilliant future ? ! if 
 we are the " adopted children of God and heirs with Jesus 
 Christ," then are w^e more highly blest, than he who passes 
 to the most powerful earthly throne, and should therefore 
 rejoice in every tribulation which diminishes the distance 
 between us and a crown of life. We are immortal, and what 
 need we care for the titled distinctions of earth ? What is 
 the grandeur of this world to him who is so soon to enter 
 
VALUE AND IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 271 
 
 upon an immortality full of glory? God grant, that through 
 all our wanderings, the conviction that we are preparing for 
 a blessed or wretched futurity, may exert its restraining and 
 purifying influences upon our minds, that while threading our 
 weary pilgrimage through this life, we may realize to what a 
 noble destiny we are born. And may the truth of thy death- 
 less nature, impenitent reader, hang with all its tremendous 
 weight and significance about thy heart, until that heart 
 becomes contrite and holy, for — 
 
 " Immortality o'ersweeps 
 
 All pains, all tears, all time, all fears, and peals 
 Like the eternal thunders of the deep 
 Into thine ears this truth — Thou liv'st forever," 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 
 
 THE HOPE OP RESURRECTION DIVESTS THE SE. 
 PULCIIRE OF ITS TERRORS, AND BRINGS CONSO- 
 LATION TO THE BEREAVED. 
 
 " Blest are they 
 That earth to earth entrust; for they may know 
 And tend the dwelling ■whence the slumberer's clay 
 Shall rise at last ; and bid the young flowers bloom, 
 That waft a breath of hope around the tomb, 
 And kneel upon the dewy turf and pray." 
 
 Sweetly and soothingly did those words of hope in the 
 burial service, "looking for the general resurrection in the 
 last day, and the life of the world to come, through our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, who shall raise his followers to the 
 participation of his own happiness and glory in heaven," fall 
 upon our ears when we stood mournfully by the open graves 
 of our departed. They breathed a reviving influence over 
 our anguished hearts ; and on wings of hope did our 
 thoughts speed to that morn which shall yet burst upon our 
 world, when Jesus Christ shall come, " who shall change our 
 vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious 
 body ;" " when this corruptible shall put on incorruption, 
 
 (272) 
 
THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION, ETC. 273 
 
 and this mortal, immi)rtality;" and we said, "He doeth all 
 things well." With this glorious prospect have millions 
 cheerfully bid farewell to earthly friends and beloved scenes, 
 and fallen asleep in Jesus. In the hope of the resurrection 
 have bereaved Christians laid parents, husbands, wives, chil- 
 dren, brothers, and sisters, into the silent grave without a 
 murmur against Providence. But upon what basis does this 
 hope rest ? It should assuredly be broad and deep to sustain 
 such precious interests as those which repose upon it. 
 And it is a source of gratulation to know that neither conjec- 
 ture nor analogy forms its only ground-work, but that it has 
 for its foundation the Rock of immutable truth. The resurrec- 
 tion of the dead is emphatically a doctrine of revelation. It 
 lies beyond the province of reason. It is true that caution 
 should be exercised when predicating what could, or could 
 not, fall within the circle of human discovery, seeing that one 
 age cannot fix the range of intellectual research for another, 
 forasmuch as the mind is in a state of progression, and is daily 
 making some new and startling discoveries. Yet, notwith- 
 standing all the brilliant triumphs of the intellect in mechan- 
 ism, in science, and in every branch of learning which should 
 check the presumptuous, who might venture to fix limits 
 beyond which the light of reason could never travel, it is not 
 arrogant to assume that the resurrection of the body is one 
 of those mysteries which would have escaped our knowledge 
 had not the light of revelation shone into the tomb. It is 
 not improbable that men, in all ages, had their conjectures, 
 and may have had some intimations about the future glorifica- 
 
274 THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 tion of our humanity. This appears probable from two 
 considerations. First : from the fact that the iramortaUty of the 
 soul and the resurrection of the body are intimately blended. 
 Man could not conceive of the soul as existing in the spirit- 
 Avorld or the invisible state, independently of a material 
 organization. We always invest good and evil spirits widi 
 some bodily form which is present to our perceptions when 
 we think of them. And in consequence of our imperfect 
 apprehensions of spiritual beings, even God is present in our 
 conceptions of Him under a certain form. And, therefore, 
 " His fulness " is said " to dwell in Christ bodily," while 
 light is made "the garment of Deity," and the " creation 
 His house." Angels are represented in Scripture under 
 various forms, but mostly in the human, with appendages of 
 wings. If they are sent as ministers of wrath to execute the 
 judgments of heaven, they are robed in warlike armor, or 
 shrouded in the tempest, clothed with lightning, or moving 
 in the pestilence. The angel which was commissioned to 
 destroy a portion of Israel, as a judgment upon David for 
 violating the command of God, which forbade him to 
 number the people, appeared in mid-heaven over Jerusalem, 
 with a drawn sword. The one that appeared unto Jacob is 
 described as a man wrestling with the jDatriarch. It is not 
 necessary for us here to inquire whether they could, or could 
 not have accomplished their work, or discharged the functions 
 of their mission in a viewless and impalpable state ; but it is 
 of some importance for us to know that when they did make 
 their appearance they were clothed in a bodily shape. And 
 
BRINaS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. . 275 
 
 if the form was even not essential to the execution of the 
 Divine purposes, it was certainly necessary to produce the 
 intended eflect upon the minds of those who were to be 
 impressed by their visible appearance. And as we ascribe a 
 certain form to angels, so, in like manner, do we to the glori- 
 fied in heaven whenever we think of them. This must 
 always be the case, unless we adopt the Pantheistic notion 
 of spirit, which maintains that the soul, as soon as it leaves 
 the body, loses its identity, and dissolves into the Divine 
 essence. But this would be in conflict with our individual 
 consciousness ; for, whenever our minds wander to the distant 
 home of the sainted, and we see them in their adorations 
 and other delightful occupations in that world of glory, they 
 have the same forms and features which were peculiar to 
 them while living. The ancient Egyptians, who believed in 
 the indestructibility of the soul, supposed that when it 
 quitted the body it passed into some animal, and after its 
 death into another, and so on, until it had performed a trans- 
 migratory course of three thousand years, and was then 
 absorbed by Deity. And the doctrine of transmigration, 
 doubtless, originated in the impossibility of conceiving of 
 the soul's existence independently of a bodily form ; and 
 regarding it as unfit to pass directly from its first habitation 
 into the Divine nature, they sent it upon this long pilgrimage 
 to obtain the necessary purity before it could be commingled 
 with God. All nations, moreover, exhibited great reverence 
 for the remains of their departed. Some embalmed their 
 dead ; and otliers who burned the mortal remains of their 
 
276 . THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 friends, carefully collected the ashes and put them into urns, 
 which were religiously preserved ; while those who buried 
 their dead manifested an equal regard for the mouldering 
 dust of beloved ones. And why was all this care, and to 
 what can we ascribe this reverence for the ashes of their 
 kindred, if they had not some dim conceptions of a 
 mysterious destiny which they believed to hang around the 
 body? While, therefore, we regard the resurrection of the 
 dead as a doctrine which never could have been clearly 
 understood without the light of revelation, we cannot escape 
 the conviction that a vague impression of some future 
 resuscitation and glorification of the human body was at all 
 times present to the consciousness of mankind. 
 
 But let us dismiss all conjecture, and pass out from the 
 field of uncertainty, to tread that sure ground on which the 
 light of God's infallible word shines. We will take the holy 
 oracles of truth, " as a lamp to our feet, and a light to our 
 path," in our examination of this subject. It has been 
 asserted by some eminent Biblical critics, that there are no 
 traces of this doctrine in the early Hebrew Scriptures. They 
 profess their inability to find it in the Pentateuch, the books 
 of Samuel, Kings, Job, the Psalms and others. Without 
 controverting the views which these writers have advanced 
 on a number of passages in the Psalms, in which Theodoret 
 and many other distinguished men believe there is a clear 
 recognition of the doctrine, we are reluctant to yield, 
 without a struggle, that well-known and beautiful passage in 
 Job, which speaks so pointedly on this subject. I cheerfully 
 
BEINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED 277 
 
 grant that we should be slow to hold an interpretation of any 
 passage of scripture, which is in direct conflict with the views 
 of such men as Jahn, Eichorn, De Wette, Grotius, Le Clerk 
 and others ; but as the right of opinion is inalienable, so is 
 the liberty of expressing our convictions unimpaired by any 
 amount of testimony, however respectable, which may stand 
 opposed to our views. And we cannot but believe that some 
 more recent commentators have adopted the interpretation of 
 these theologians of this passage, rather from the want of 
 independence of thought, than from obedience to their con- 
 victions ; for great names are invested with a secret power 
 ^vhich often insensibly determines the mind in favor of their 
 views. Notwithstanding, then, the number of learned ex- 
 positors who regard the language of Job in the nineteenth 
 chapter, 25, 26, and 27th verses, as expressing a hope of his 
 restoration to bodily health, and deliverance from the pressure 
 of his calamities, we are clearly of the opinion that he had 
 reference to the resurrection of his body from the grave. It 
 is maintained by those who differ from this view, that such 
 an interpretation does not fall in with the design of the poem, 
 the whole argument of which is based upon a misconception 
 of the design of affliction. Granting that the friends of Job 
 labored under a misconception of the cause and object of 
 affliction, and that this was the basis of the argument, it does 
 not follow that every part and passage of the entire produc- 
 tion must necessarily and rigidly conform to the design of the 
 poem. There are many things incidentally, and sometimes 
 designedly mentioned, ay, doctrines statea and illustrated 
 24 
 
278 THE HOPE OF KESURRECTION 
 
 in this and almost every other book extant, which would be 
 deprived of their legitimate meaning under the force of this 
 rule. All who read the Scriptures with ordinary attention, 
 are familiar with the fact, that the inspired writers are often 
 very sudden and even abrupt in their transitions from one 
 subject to another. Take, as an illustration, the Psalms, and 
 many of the Prophecies, where the particular design of the 
 writer cannot be misapprehended, and yet we frequently find 
 in the midst of a prophecy, the statement of some general 
 doctrine, or the utterance of some glorious and startling truth, 
 not legitimately connected with its primary design. But, 
 perhaps, with the large majority of men, this passage itself is 
 its best vindication. There it stands out luminous upon the 
 ancient book, as a beacon-light in a dark world ; and to 
 assign to it a different meaning from that which lies so 
 obviously on its surface, would be to obscure one of the 
 brightest gems upon that oldest of all records. After touch- 
 ing appeals to his friends, to awaken their sympathies in view 
 of his afflictions, which to all human appearance were rapidly 
 carrying him to the grave, he gives utterance to the assu- 
 rances of his faith. " For I know that my Redeemer liveth, 
 and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth, and 
 though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh 
 shall I see God, whom I shall see for myself and not another, 
 though my reins be consumed within me." As it is not my 
 object to enter into an extended discussion of this passage, I 
 will simply remark that he could speak with as much 
 certainty of his resurrection, as he could of his restoration to 
 
BRINQS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 279 
 
 health ; inasmuch as, in either case, he could only predict 
 such ail event under the tuition and inspiration of the Holy 
 Ghost. Both events were involved in the obscurity of the 
 future, and his recovery from affliction was not more 
 probable than his resurrection from the grave. And many 
 other considerations might be added, which would multiply 
 the difficulties of the other interpretation. And why should 
 we blot out one of the first and most brilliant lights that shines 
 out of the bosom of antiquity, to disperse the gloom of the 
 sepulchre, and to cheer the afflicted and dying with the sure 
 conviction that they have a living Redeemer who will rebuild 
 the fallen tabernacle of the soul at the last great day ; and this, 
 too, because in the estimation of a few, the doctrine of the 
 resurrection falls not in with the design of the poem. No ! 
 we will not, we cannot so easily and upon such slight 
 grounds, surrender it. Our affections cling to it, and we will 
 rear a wall of living, hopeful, and believing hearts around it, 
 that shall cherish it as a precious legacy from our heavenly 
 father. 
 
 From this brief notice of the testimony of the book of 
 Job in favor of the resurrection, we will direct the attention 
 of the reader to such proofs as are undisputed. The 
 passages are numerous, clear, specific, and incontrovertible, 
 in which this doctrine is taught. In the prophecy of Isaiah 
 it is written : " Thy dead men shall live ; together with my 
 dead body shall they arise ; awake and sing, ye that dwell in 
 the dust, for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth 
 shall cast out the dead." In Ezekiel, chap. 37, we have a vivid 
 
280 THE HOPE OF RESURKECTION 
 
 pictvire of the restoration to national existence and prosperity 
 of Israel, wasted and broken by their captivity ; but while 
 this was unquestionably the primary design of that prophecy, 
 it also proclaimed the power and purpose of God, as these 
 will be illustrated in the general resurrection of the dead. 
 But this doctrine, like the promises of the Messiah, grows 
 clearer as we come down from the beginning in the develop- 
 ment of the plan of Redemption, until it bursts upon the 
 world in all its elFulgence. In Daniel it is announced, "And 
 many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake ; 
 some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting 
 contempt." This passage is easily understood without any 
 comment. 
 
 But whatever may have been the alleged obscurity in 
 which this doctrine is involved in the Old Testament, it 
 manifestly forms one of the most prominent of the Gospel. 
 It was the frequent theme of discourse both of our Lord and 
 His Apostles. Among the many declarations of the fact 
 itself, His address to the inquiring Greeks who sought Him 
 at Jerusalem, is designed to illustrate this great mystery. 
 The splendor of His miracles, and the wisdom of His dis- 
 courses had spread his fame far and wide. Never had it 
 been known among men that a mere word recalled the dead 
 to life ; that disease shrank from the presence and bidding of 
 man ; and that a mere touch opened the eyes of the blind, 
 or caused the warm blood to resume its circulation in the 
 withered arm, before Jesus of Nazareth appeared in Judea. 
 Need we wonder, then, that these miracles, in connection 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 281 
 
 with the discourses of our Lord, attracted even the Greeks, 
 who, perhaps, hoped to find in Him the messenger for whom 
 their Plato longed, when he said, " We have need that one 
 of the gods should teach us." And as His hour of suffer- 
 ing was near, and all who had come to Jerusalem would 
 witness His crucifixion, it was fiit that He should prepare the 
 minds of His hearers for that event, lest His death might 
 stagger and overthrow their faith. "Verily, verily, I say 
 unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and 
 die, it abideth alone ; but if it die,*it bringeth forth much 
 fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that 
 hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. If 
 any man serve me, let him follow me ; and where I am, 
 there shall also be my servant." Here He brings forward 
 the resurrection as the broad foundation upon which the hope 
 of His followers should repose. A doctrine, perhaps, some- 
 what startling to the Greeks, but only the full utterance of 
 what sometimes seemed obscurely present in their philosophy. 
 For all nations who had among them those who were given 
 to profound meditation and study, generally conceived 
 Nature to be animated by the breath of the Almighty, and 
 sustained by an invisible and eternal energy ; and, therefore, 
 might recognise in its various phenomena symbols of 
 those truths which pertained to the spiritual world; and 
 particularly might the revivification of things dead in 
 Nature suggest a similar return to life of the body which 
 sank into the tomb. But if this might be deemed too 
 great a triumph even for profound thinkers, it will not be 
 24* 
 
282 THE HOPE OF KESUREECTION 
 
 denied that the distance which they had travelled by the light 
 of reason was so much of an approach to the great truth, that 
 it had fitted their minds for the announcement of this doctrine 
 of Christianity. They were not ignorant that they must die, 
 but granting that they had no knowledge of that life which 
 springs forth afresh from death ; they yet saw the same thing 
 continually transpiring in Nature, and it was, therefore, not so 
 difficult to believe that a like privilege awaited man. The 
 seed must rot in the earth if it is to be reproduced ; and thus 
 man must submit to this inevitable law of Nature, and 
 undergo a change in the tomb if he would live forever. In 
 view of such considerations. His death and burial, as our 
 great forerunner, had nothing in them ultimately to overthrow 
 the faith of His disciples ; forasmuch as He rose from the 
 tomb and reappeared to them, and ascended with His glori- 
 fied humanity to heaven, thus opening for his followers a 
 passage from this world to a glorious immortality. This 
 illustration, then, with which the Saviour has furnished us, 
 divests death of its horrors, and takes away much of its 
 bitterness, and even makes it desirable, since it has become 
 the only passage to a blessed future. 
 
 The truth of this doctrine is then based upon God's infal- 
 lible word. Jesus Christ in the passage already cited, as also 
 in a multitude of others, distinctly avows and declares that 
 the dead shall rise. " I am the resurrection and the life ; he 
 that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." 
 " The hour is coming in the which all that are in their graves 
 shall hear his voice ; and shall come forth, they that have 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 283 
 
 done good unto the resurrection of life, and they that have 
 done evil unto the resurrection of damnation." " And this 
 is the will of Him that sent me, that every one which seeth 
 the Son and believeth on him, may have everlasting life, and 
 I will raise him up at the last day." He confirmed the truth 
 of these and similar declarations in the dominion He mani- 
 fested over death and decay, by restoring to life the son of 
 the widow of Nain and' others ; but especially in raising 
 Lazarus, who had been four days in the tomb. But this 
 doctrine is rendered impregnable by Ms own resurrection 
 from the grave. That his crucifixion resulted in death, there 
 can be no question. And even shameless infidelity ought to 
 blush, for uttering a contrary opinion. It is a pity that men 
 whose corruptions compel them to be infidels, should attempt 
 to impeach history. It is not manly to question the truth of 
 well-authenticated records, and this W'Ould never have been 
 attempted in the present case, did not infidelity divest its 
 votaries of all the exalted attributes which belong to noble 
 minds. Who could really believe that He was not dead ? 
 He was in the hands of His enemies, and was subjected to 
 such torture and suflfering, that it is as idle as it is wicked for 
 those hostile to Christianity to deny the fact. And that He 
 rose and frequently appeared to His disciples prior to His 
 ascension to heaven, is as well attested as any other historical 
 fact which has ever been offered to the faith of mankind. 
 Those who have testified to His resurrection, could have had 
 no motive to deceive themselves and others; for their identifi- 
 cation with Christianity was not the result of ambitious 
 
284 THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 aspirings, or the prospect of worldly honor or gain, but an 
 honest conviction of its truth. What inducement could there 
 have been to sacrifice their earthly all and peril their lives, 
 simply to fasten an imposture upon the world ? Could men 
 brave the terrors of martyrdom, the gloom of prisons, and the 
 tortures of the rack, whose hopes of immortality were ground 
 less upon the supposition that the resurrection of Jesus was 
 not true ? The witnesses to its truth were also of unimpeach- 
 able character, and whatever their enemies might have 
 thought and said of their religion, they could not allege any 
 thing against the character of the disciples. They gave 
 ample proof of their integrity and conscientiousness in all 
 their convictions. And that they were competent to give a 
 truthful testimony on this subject, is evident from the fact that 
 they had been the intimate companions of Jesus for three 
 years, and had a thousand times looked upon His person and 
 heard his voice ; and when he appeared to them for the first 
 time in their secluded chamber, they at once recognized their 
 Master. And in order to dispel the idea that it was a mere 
 apparition. He invites them to touch and handle Him, that 
 they might know that it was the actual body in which He had 
 suffered upon the cross. And at every subsequent time that 
 He showed himself to them, they had abundant opportunity 
 of attentively regarding the person of the Redeemer. And 
 that none might dispute His resurrection. He appeared at one 
 time to about five hundred brethren, and last of all to Paul 
 as that apostle informs us. 
 
 If, moreover, we examine the records of apostolical labor, 
 
BRINGS C05rS0LATI0N TO THE BEREAVED. 285 
 
 we shall discover that all their preaching ultimately rested 
 upon this cardinal truth. In that masterly discourse which 
 Paul delivered to the cultivated Athenians on Mars-hill, he 
 enforces the truths which he had uttered by the resurrection 
 of Jesus. " God now commandeth all men every where to 
 repent, because he hath appointed a day in the which he will 
 judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath 
 ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men in 
 that he hath raised him from the dead." Peter, in the very 
 commencement of his epistle, breaks forth in the following 
 beautiful language. " Blessed be the God and father of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy 
 hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection 
 of Jesus Christ from the dead." From a multitude of 
 passages which might be cited, it is evident that the entire 
 and magnificent structure of the gospel is based upon the 
 resurrection of Christ. The apostle Paul in his admirable 
 vindication of this doctrine in 1 Cor. chap. xv. administers 
 not only a masterly rebuke to the errors which had crept into 
 the church, but distinctly states that the truth of Christianity 
 has no other foundation upon which to repose, if this were 
 taken away. " If Christ be not raised, your faith is vain ; ye 
 are yet in your sins. Then, also, they which are fallen asleep 
 in Christ are perished." It is manifest not only from this 
 incomparable and triumphant vindication in this chapter, but 
 from the whole gospel, that they attached the highest value to 
 this doctrine. It constituted a prime article in their faith, 
 and was full of consolation to them in all their trials ; for it 
 
286 THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 peopled the future with a gloiy, the grandeur of which 
 relieved their suiferings of their gloom and poignancy. And 
 its importance can certainly not be overrated by rational 
 beings, for it underlies all our theology, and is the ground- 
 work of all immortal hopes. It connects the present and the 
 future, and gives significance to all that is mysterious and 
 solemn in the incarnation, the life and death of our Saviour, 
 It breathes life into all the doctrines of the gospel, and 
 makes the sacred page radiant with the hopes of eternal 
 existence. For if the dead rise not, how can we vindicate 
 the scheme of redemption, how solve the problem of our life, 
 or reconcile the imperfect state of man in this world with the 
 other works of God, which attain to their appropriate perfec- 
 tion ? And, deprived of that hope which causes the ashes of 
 our sainted to glow with immortality, and which opens to 
 the contemplation of man beyond the grave scenes of ineffable 
 grandeur and glory, what would there be left to animate the 
 Christian with fortitude under trials, or to comfort hina amid 
 the wreck of earthly hopes ? Very truly does the apostle 
 observe — " If in this life only, we have hope in Christ, then 
 are we of all men most miserable." For if Christianity is a 
 fiction, death an eternal sleep, and immortality a dream, then 
 may we adopt the Epicurean adage as a principle of action , 
 — " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." But as this 
 is absurd and the doctrine of fools, we being immortal should 
 live as immortals; — live in accordance with the dictates of 
 the laws, the elements and aspirations of our being, all of 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEIIEAVED. 287 
 
 which unite their testimony with reason and revelation in 
 proclaiming that we shall live forever. 
 
 It is a precious consolation to the Christian that this body, 
 in which he groans and suffers, in which he moves and acts, 
 and whose members are consecrated to God and occupied in 
 His service, shall become immortal. That this weak and 
 frail tenement of the soul, so disordered and anguished by the 
 effects of sin, shall at last rise from its humble dwelling in the 
 dust, perfectly holy, and eternally triumph with the spirit 
 in the presence of Jehovah. And equally precious is it to 
 believe that God will reanimate the dust of His saints, and 
 that they shall burst forth from the tomb arrayed in the glory 
 of Christ. He, as the first fruits of the resurrection, has 
 already ascended in His humanity to the presence of the 
 Father, where His glorified body appears as the pledge for 
 the fulfilment of the promise in all His followers, and as a 
 confirmation of the truth that all who are joined by a living 
 faith to Jesus shall be raised to the same happiness and glory 
 in heaven. In view of this fact, Paul exhorts the Thessalo- 
 nians in the following language : " But I would not have you 
 ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that 
 ye sorrow not even as others who have no hope. For if we 
 believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also 
 which sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him. For this we 
 say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are 
 alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not 
 prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall 
 descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the arch- 
 
288 ^HE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 angel, and with the trump of God ; and the dead in Christ 
 shall rise first ; then we which are alive and remain shall he 
 caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord 
 in the air, and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Where- 
 fore comfort one another with these words." With such 
 words, breathing exalted hopes, he would comfort those who 
 were sorrowing for their departed. It is not the will of 
 heaven that w^e should remain unaffected by afflictions, for 
 this would defeat their end ; and there is no law in our 
 nature which demands stoical indifference in our bereave- 
 ments, for our sorrows are only outflows of a smitten soul ; 
 but religion comes to our aid, to soothe and moderate our 
 grief by its solid and exhaustless comforts, and by the glori- 
 ous assurance that those who go down into the house 
 appointed for all the living shall rise again. Blessed, glori- 
 ous announcement, which pours such light into the tomb, and 
 such precious consolation into our hearts ! 
 
 The apostle John gives us in the Apocalypse a vivid 
 picture of the transactions connected with the coming of 
 Christ. When He shall come upon His great white throne, 
 and the heavens and the earth shrinking from His presence. 
 He shall call back to life the sleeping millions. The 
 voice which once commanded and the universe arose, and 
 the heavens were stretched out, and all the glowing orbs took 
 up their line of march, will again be heard at the final day ; 
 and as its vibrations travel over the earth, every grave will 
 fly open, and every sepulchre will be uncovered. What an 
 animating spectacle will the morning of the resurrection pro- 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 289 
 
 duce. With the breaking of its light there will be a stirring 
 of life in every cavern where a victim of death reposed ; 
 while shouts of triumph and lamentations of despair are fill- 
 ing the air, and mingling with the furious roar of burning 
 elements, the crash of worlds, and the groans of an expiring, 
 sin-burdened creation, until all are dissolved into quiet sub- 
 mission at the feet of the great Redeemer, to hear their 
 eternal doom. And not only the earth, but the " sea shall 
 give up its dead." Millions have gone down into its un- 
 fathomable depdis. It is the common highway of the nations 
 of the earth. It is the bond which holds in union and friendly 
 intercourse the large family of nations ; while it is also the 
 vast sepulchre where all kindreds have laid a portion of their 
 dead. It is the great tomb of nations. Many who have been 
 borne over its dark blue waves in search of pearls, and en- 
 gaged in commerce, have gone down into its hidden caverns. 
 Multitudes who fell in naval conflicts, and the victims of 
 marine disasters, are committed to its trust. There the vessel 
 that was freighted with hundreds of immortals was overtaken 
 by the storm and shattered, and sunk with her precious 
 cargo. There the pestilence has dropped upon the deck like 
 a viewless and dark spirit, and smitten those wandering to a 
 new and distant home. To the sea has the emigrant com- 
 mitted his beloved one, in the hope of the resurrection. The 
 many disasters along the reefy and rock-bound coasts, as well 
 as the fire and tempest on the open sea, are annually sending 
 their thousands to this tomb. 0, what precious treasure does 
 the sea hold over for the resurrection morn ! Much of silver, 
 25 
 
290 THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 of gold, and costly gems, have gone down into its bosom, 
 and this wealth may lie unclaimed ; but all in whom the 
 breath of immortality was found must be surrendered on 
 demand. 0, thou sepulchre of nations ! thou capacious and 
 unfathomable grave of the world ! thou shalt give up thy 
 dead ! 
 
 "Wliat wealth untold, 
 
 Far dovrn and shining through thy stillness lies ! 
 Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, 
 
 Won from ten thousand royal argosies. 
 Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main, 
 
 Earth claims not these again ! 
 
 Give back the lost and lovely ! those for whom 
 The place was kept at board and hearth so long ; 
 
 The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, 
 And the vain yearnings woke 'midst festal song ! 
 
 Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown, 
 But all is not thine own ! 
 
 To thee the love of woman hath gone down ; 
 
 Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head, 
 O'er youth's bright locks and beautj^'s flowery crown! 
 
 Yet must thou hear a voice — Restore the Dead ! 
 God shall reclaim His precious things from thee ! 
 
 Restore the Dead, thou Sea." 
 
 Contemplate for a moment, the grandeur of that scene! 
 Let us shift ourselves forward to that marvellous and glorious 
 spectacle. The night of death is past, the long silence of the 
 tomb is broken, and the lustre of the morning of redemption 
 bathes the world with its glory ! And although we cannot 
 with all the aids which imagination and imagery furnish, rise 
 in our apprehensions to the proper dignity and glory of that 
 day; we may behold faint reflections, and catch a few 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 291 
 
 glimpses from the manifestations of Divine power, as ex 
 hibited in the material world. As autumn is an emblem of 
 death, so is spring an image of the resurrection. And it is 
 the certainty with which we look forward to the renewal of 
 the face of nature, that reconciles us to the autumnal decay 
 of the beautiful things of earth. Without this assurance, it 
 would indeed be a melancholy spectacle to witness our 
 forests disrobed, our flowers fade, all the decorations of 
 earth perish, and see all things passing into the desolations 
 of winter. And thus also, would death be a dark and cheer- 
 less destiny, could we not look forward through its gloom 
 and see the light of the resurrection morn flashing upon our 
 vision. And shall not this hope cheer bereaved hearts ? 
 Our dead shall rise again. That aged parent who went 
 down to the narrow house bent with the weight of infirmities 
 and years, shall renew his youth ; that sweet sister whose last 
 faint echoes still linger on our ear, shall again speak to us ; 
 and that little angel form which we so often encircled, shall 
 yet again fly to our embraces, for they shall rise again. God 
 has so declared ; and from the annual recurrence of that 
 season which robes in fresh glory our hills and valleys. He 
 furnishes incontestable proof of His faithfulness and ability in 
 the performance of his promises. " Forever, O Lord, thy 
 word is settled in heaven. Thy faithfulness is unto all 
 generations." And if a feeble faith should sometimes be 
 staggered when it surveys the difficulties which unsanctified 
 reason has thrown around this doctrine of our holy religion, 
 it may recruit its energies and reassure the heart by con- 
 
292 THE HOPE OF RESURRECTION 
 
 templating those wonders which Almighty power causes to 
 transpire with unfaltering certainty in the world around us. 
 We cannot see, neither can we understand the operations of 
 that mysterious energy which is at play in the production of 
 the phenomena of nature, and yet we witness and acknow- 
 ledge its effects. And is it any more difficult to believe that 
 God can, and that God will raise his sleeping saints to life 
 and glory? " Why should it be thought a thing incredible 
 with you, that God should raise the dead?" O! it is not 
 incredible nor impossible, since the veracity and omnipotence 
 of God are pledged for its fulfilment. He will rebuild those 
 fallen structures. Believe it, believe it, and be comforted, 
 ye that mourn around the graves of the lovely and the 
 beautiful. Though their frames are wasting away, and their 
 comeliness is lost in the mould of the tomb, they shall rise 
 with a far more excellent glory than ever adorned them 
 while bearing their earthly burdens. They will rise with 
 immortal natures. Their bodies will never more be liable to 
 disease, to blight, and decay ; for they shall be fashioned 
 like unto His own glorious body. And when risen incor- 
 ruptible, the soul, once driven from that house, will 
 return to inhabit it forever. And what a change, in compari- 
 son with its former home! Then weak and corrupt, now 
 perfected in its entire organization, the soul finds it fitted for 
 the discharge of its high functions. Why should we, then, 
 sorrow foi our departed as those who have no hope ? Nay, 
 let us rather rejoice that, while we ourselves are hastening to 
 the grave, and all earthly happiness and hopes are on the 
 
BRINGS CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 293 
 
 wing and doomed to be wrecked, we may plant our hope 
 upon the threshold of that day when every sleeper shall 
 awake, and we, and those whom, in our deep affliction, we 
 laid in the silent grave, shall rise to an immortality full of 
 glory. ! it strips death of its terrors, and the grave of 
 its gloom, when I am assured of God that my humanity shall 
 share in the blessings of a glorious immortality. To know 
 that this body, so often rent by anguish and racked with pain, 
 shall share in the joys of an endless future, reconciles me to 
 the afflictions of life, and makes me long for all those quali- 
 fications which will give me a part in the resurrection of the 
 just. For what need I fear from adversity, from fire, or 
 sword, or death, when I know that these hands shall sweep 
 an everlasting harp, these eyes behold the eternal throne and 
 the wonders of Jehovah, and these feet, so wearily threading 
 the path of life, shall stand in the midst of thee, 0, Jerusa- 
 lem ! thou city of my God, my everlasting home ! 
 
 25* 
 
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. 
 
 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF THE FAMILY BOND A 
 SOURCE OF CONSOLATION TO THE BEREAVED. 
 
 ' Not in the grave, not in the grave, my soul 
 Believe thy friend belov'd ; 
 But in the lonely hour, 
 And in the evening walk, 
 Think that he companies thy solitude !" 
 
 There is a withering power in the stroke of death. It 
 not only shatters "the harp of a thousand strings," and 
 hushes its melody forever on earth, but the blow which stills 
 the heart of a friend falls with stunning effect upon all who 
 stood in intimate relation with him. A thousand persons 
 feel at the same instant the electric shock, if they form an 
 unbroken chain of contact with the battery ; and thus when 
 one is stricken by death, all who are united with him by ties 
 of friendship and affection instantly feel it. But while pain 
 and grief accompany the removal of friends, and all looks 
 desolate within and without, there is this consolation left us, 
 that they are not lost, but gone, like orbs which are carried 
 in their circle beyond the range of our vision, but which still 
 exist and shine, though their light falls not around us. And 
 surely the conviction that their being is not extinguished — 
 
 (294) 
 
THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF THE FAMILY BOND. 295 
 
 not blotted from God's intelligent universe, but that they 
 have taken their places among tlie exalted and holy, affords 
 us consolation in our sorrow, and joy in our grief. And it is 
 still more consolatory to know that they are yet ours ; that 
 they are united to us by a bond which even death cannot 
 impair. And to my heart there is nothing more cheering and 
 sustaining under the pressures of bereavement than the con- 
 viction that the changes which befall the relations of life only 
 extend to the material, and leave the spiritual without weak- 
 ness or blight. It is a sad reflection, which forces itself upon 
 the mind when contemplating the family circle, that it is 
 destined to be broken up sooner or later. And it is, perhaps, 
 on this account, that we seldom suffer our thoughts to dwell 
 upon such an event, until it is no longer possible to avoid it. 
 And on the part of many there seem to be studied efforts to 
 keep themselves from anticipating that which is borne with 
 such difficulty when it comes to pass. We instinctively turn 
 from that day, which is winging its approach momentarily 
 nearer, when one of us who compose that circle of warm 
 hearts must leave those beloved scenes and friends, and go 
 alone into eternity. We would rather, while looking upon 
 our children, and they upon us, wish that the mildew of 
 affliction and the gloom of desolation might never fall upon 
 our abode of happiness. And it may seem to some an un- 
 kind and unwarrantable intrusion to disturb the placid feel- 
 ings of those who have never yet been willing to entertain 
 the idea that the hour of separation from those whom they 
 love is coming. And if we were under the dark power of 
 
296 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OP 
 
 cheerless heathenism, it might be prudent not to think at all 
 on the subject; but since life and immortality have been 
 brought to light in the Gospel, and we are privileged to 
 take a full view of the immense range of our destiny, it is 
 both the dictate of reason and religion to consider every 
 aspect which it may assume, and to ponder every particular 
 which belongs to our history. 
 
 Although we may dread the hour of separation, it will 
 lighten the calamity if we are prepared for it. Instead, then, 
 of avoiding all reference in our thoughts and conversations 
 to the severance of those bonds which unite us to each other, 
 it should be the frequent subject of meditation and prayer. 
 Regarding ourselves and those whom God has given us as 
 immortal, and living with reference to our future existence, 
 we may look upon all those changes to which we and our 
 families are subjected in our progress to our final home, 
 without dread. For what is a brief separation compared with 
 an eternal union ? And it is after all, only an apparent, and 
 not a real rupture of the family relation. It is a part of our 
 destiny, and, if it be accompanied with pain, we find a 
 compensation for the evil in the hope of that endless and 
 glorious future, where we shall be reunited without the 
 possibility of another separation. And while we are ad- 
 vancing towards the possession of that fadeless glory which 
 Ihey have already inherited, we are conscious of the lively 
 exercises of love with which we cherished them while they 
 were living. Nothing can quench the fires of affection which 
 their presence once kindled in -our hearts, and we have no 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 297 
 
 reason to believe that their glorified spirits cease to cherish us 
 amid the wonders and joys of their blissful home. We can 
 form some idea of the sympathy which exists between friends, 
 part of whom are in heaven and part on earth, from the known 
 operations of our minds when as members of the same family 
 our lots are cast in different localities. Members of the same 
 household, as they attain maturity of years, choose different 
 occupations, and their pursuits may be such as to make it 
 necessary for them to live in different states, or countries, so 
 that the parents of a numerous family may find themselves 
 the second time the sole occupants of their dwelling. The 
 sons and daughters are all gone, but the ties which unite them 
 are not broken. If they lived affectionately and happily 
 through their childhood, then their dispersion and the distance 
 at which they reside from each other, do not enfeeble, but 
 rather strengthen the attachment which exists between them. 
 The same bond which knit together in holy love their youth- 
 ful hearts, still holds their spirits in sweet communion, though 
 many thousand miles may intervene. This bond of union 
 reaches across deserts, seas, and continents, gathering within 
 its embrace all the members of the same fold. It is a part of 
 our spiritual being, and claims an immortality with the soul. 
 There is no affection which relates to earthly objects that is 
 of equal strength and permanence. The youth who has 
 gone to a distant land in pursuit of gain, carries with him the 
 hearts of those whom he left behind. Is there a day that he 
 is out of the thoughts of his parents ? Is he not rather the 
 constant subject of their conversatic^, their prayers, their 
 
298 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 anxieties and their hopes ? ! there is a viewless chord that 
 extends from heart to heart, and, Hke the electric wire 
 which unites two opposite poles, instantly communicates to 
 the one that which transpires in the other. Has the mother 
 given up her daughter to the missionary work in a far-oflf 
 land, and is her child toiling for the advancement of the 
 gospel amid the "habitations of cruelty?" Although she 
 has cheerfully surrendered her to this glorious service, she 
 has not ceased to love her. Her thoughts are continually 
 with the absent one, and the outflows of her soul towards that 
 beloved child become more and more abundant as the days 
 and years of separation increase. Undying love brings her 
 name frequently to her lips, and her image before her mind. 
 And with equal tenderness do the absent ones cherish the 
 loved ones at home. If they are thrown out upon the 
 circumference of earth, their hearts turn as instinctively to the 
 home of their childhood, as the needle does to the pole. 
 
 It is not at their respective localities that they commune 
 with each other, but around the place of their birth ; and 
 whenever they revisit in imagination the familiar scenes of 
 other days, those places are always peopled with those 
 who once rejoiced with them in their earlier and happier 
 years. 
 
 This kindred feeling is not of sickly growth ; its roots 
 extend into the holiest depths of human nature, and are 
 nourished by the purest emanations of the spirit. One of the 
 great laws in the material world, is that of affinity between 
 things of a common origin and of common properties. This 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 299 
 
 IS illustrated and proved through all the kingdoms of nature. 
 But this law controls with like authority and even with 
 OTeater force in the world of mind, than it does in the world 
 of matter. And thus we see that where there is a similarity 
 of taste and disposition, and an identity of pursuit, there is a 
 commingling of hearts. Great purposes are subserved, and 
 benevolent ends are accomplished by this arrangement of 
 Providence. A strong current of sympathy pulsates through 
 our humanity, so that all those generous emotions and 
 benevolent impulses of which we are capable, leap into em- 
 bodied forms of relief, when calamities of one kind or another 
 fall upon our brethren of mankind. It is asserted by philoso- 
 phers, that the fall of a pebble sends its vibrations through 
 the entire framework of the earth. And Melville, in discours- 
 ing of the murderer Cain, carries this thought to a still higher 
 elevation, and gives it a more sublime range, when he 
 represents him as pursued and haunted by the outcries of all 
 nature against him for his atrocious crime. " It may be, that 
 fashioned as man is out of the dust of the earth, there are 
 such links between him and the material creation, that when 
 the citadel of his life is rudely invaded, the murderous blow 
 is felt throughout the vast realm of nature ; so that, though 
 there be no truth in the wild legend., that if the assassin enter 
 the chamber where the victim is stretched, the gasping 
 wounds will bleed afresh, yet may earth, sea, and air have 
 sympathy with the dead, and form themselves into furies to 
 hunt down his destroyer. It may have been more than a 
 rhetorical expression when God assigned a voice to the 
 
300 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 ground that was saturated with human blood. And these 
 may be utterances which are more than the coinings of his own 
 racked conscience to the murderer — utterances which though 
 heard only by himself, because himself alone hath dislocated 
 a chord in the great harmonies of creation, may speak pierc- 
 ingly of the frightful atrocity, and invoke the vengeance of 
 Heaven on the wretch who hath dared to withdraw one note 
 from the universal anthem." Whether men would or would 
 not subscribe to the sentiment in this eloquent passage from 
 this gifted divine, none can have any reluctance about yield- 
 ing their acknowledgment to the fact that there is a myste- 
 rious sympathetic connection between all who are partakers 
 of human nature. Humanity is a unit. And since all the 
 children of men have a common origin, and are alike in all 
 the essential properties of their being, therefore, if the laws 
 of affinity and sympathy act any where with acknowledged 
 force, it is in the human family. And we have an exemplifi- 
 cation of the truthfulness of this, in those reciprocal influences 
 which circulate upon the surface and through all the great 
 channels of that entire body of social beings which covers the 
 earth. When the tidings of distressing suflTerings or disas- 
 trous calamities which have befallen our brethren of the flesh 
 on the opposite side of the globe reach us, the secret fountains 
 of our nature are stirred to their holiest depths, and we share 
 their misfortunes and sorrows. A fellow feeling makes us 
 conscious that they are a part of us, and that our sympathy 
 for them is eminently natural and rational. When the 
 pestilence is desolatihg the cities of Persia, or China, or the 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 301 
 
 plague is wasting the inhabitants of India, it is with painful 
 feelings that we peruse the records of such devastations. It 
 is with instinctive horror that- we follow the invisible scouro-e 
 
 o 
 
 from city to city and from kingdom to kingdom, while at the 
 same time we participate in all those emotions of dread which 
 cause men to shrink from the presence of the terrible destroyer. 
 We sympathise with suffering, in whatever form and in what- 
 ever locality it may be endured by man. A cry of distress 
 once uttered, completes the circuit of the globe. Those 
 yearnings for life and liberty which issue from hearts bleeding 
 and quivering under the iron heel of the oppressor, mourn- 
 fully echo through all the channels of our being, and pour 
 their vibrations along every chord of our souls. A crushing 
 burden, wherever it presses upon human hearts, is like a 
 mountain cast into the sea, which will raise waves whose un- 
 dulations will be felt upon the farthest shore. 
 
 It is this same law of our being, schooled and elevated by 
 our holy religion, which calls forth from the comforts of home 
 and the endearments of friendship, the man, and the female 
 delicately reared, and constrains them to present themselves 
 to the church, and say, lo ! here are we, send us to publish the 
 tidings of salvation to our benighted heathen brethren. And it 
 is in the hope of benefiting the ignorant and degraded pagans, 
 that difficulties are cheerfully encountered, and if these cannot 
 be surmounted, they are meekly endured, yea, even life itself is 
 surrendered by tliose who labor for the elevation of the race 
 and the glory of God. Behold the servants of Christ scattered 
 over all the earth, in the burning south and the frozen north, 
 26 
 
302 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 exposed to perils of every imaginable form, toiling on in their 
 arduous work of establishinc^ schools, of instructinsf the isfno- 
 rant, and of organizing churches, and thus opening fountains 
 all over this desert world, that " the streams which make glad 
 the city of God," may flow out upon the wide fields of our 
 weary humanity, and water and mature harvests for eternal 
 glory ; and search for the motives which carried them out 
 into those distant fields, and which sustain them in their self- 
 denying exertions, and these will abundantly witness that it 
 is the love of Christ and of souls which prompted them to the 
 undertaking, and which supports them in their humane and 
 Christian labors. This bond of union or fellow-feeling which 
 unites the whole race, acts with such force as to create a 
 deep concern in those nations who have been exalted above 
 others through the influences of Christianity, for their more 
 wretched brethren, so that they labor for the elevation and 
 regeneration of the kindreds and tongues who are still sitting 
 " in the region and shadow of death." 
 
 But this bond acquires strength, and acts more energetically 
 in proportion as the circle of its operation is diminished. 
 This is strictly philosophical, because in harmony with the 
 laws of our being. It is the same power acting within a 
 narrower compass ; and hence we have sentiments and feel- 
 ings of nationality. We cherish a deeper interest for the 
 citizens of this Republic than we do for those of other 
 nations. And when travelling in a distant land we are 
 thrown into the company of an American, our hearts warm 
 towards him more than towards those of any other nation. 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 303 
 
 And under such circumstances we are still more strongly- 
 attracted to him when we make the discovery that he is from 
 the same State, and yet more when he is from the same city 
 or neisrhborhood. Such a knowledge at once establishes 
 confidence between us, and we feel and converse as though 
 we had always known each other. And yet the family bond 
 rises superior to this in strength, in tenderness, and in dura- 
 bility. It is the force and depth of a law wide and deep as 
 humanity, operating within that circle of hearts which are the 
 offspring of the same beloved parents. My brothers and 
 sisters, father and mother, wife and children, are "bone of 
 ray bone, and flesh of ray flesh." I cannot think or speak 
 of them without feeUng that we are " one and inseparable." 
 That those ties which link our hearts, and those chords which 
 bind our souls in union, are never to be broken. Why, if not 
 in obedience to this law, does the child, whose father is an 
 inebriate, or the victim of some other debasing vice, still love 
 him who is shunned by society ? Why does the raother love 
 that son who has broken through every restraint, and out- 
 raged all the sensibilities of her heart, and cherish him after 
 he has become a by- word and hissing in the world .-' ! it 
 is because it is her child. The inspired writers, and our 
 Lord Jesus, have chosen the family bond, when they would 
 illustrate the depth and strength of that love which our 
 Heavenly Father bears to all his creatures. When God 
 wished to assure desponding Israel of His tender care and 
 protection. He put this language into the raouth of the 
 prophet, "But Zion said. The Lord hath forsaken rae, and 
 
304 THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman forget her suck- 
 ling child, that she should not have compassion on the son of 
 her womb ? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. 
 Behold, I have graven thee on the palms of my hands ; thy 
 walls are continually before me." There could not be a 
 more forcible image of His tenderness and His undying com- 
 passion for His people, than the one which is drawn from the 
 ardent feelings which a faithful mother cherishes for her child. 
 And thus, also, has our Saviour represented the love of God 
 in the father of the prodigal. Although that wayward and 
 profligate youth had dishonored the family, and forfeited 
 every claim to parental regard, yet did he retain a place in 
 tke father's heart ; and when at last he did return a wreck of 
 what he had been, and covered with every rr.ark of a deep 
 degradation, the yearnings and impulses of a parent's heart 
 caused him to forget the feebleness of age and the guilt of 
 his son, and he ran to meet him, and fell upon his neck and 
 kissed him, and welcomed him w'lih a baptism of tears. 
 And there are, doubtless, many parents whose children have 
 broken loose from the restraints of their authority, and have 
 gone out into the w'orld and grown w^orthless, who would 
 bestow a similar welcome upon those erring ones if they 
 would but return to the bosom of those deserted homes. 
 This bond of union stands second only to that which unites 
 the soul to God by a living faith ; only that is higher and 
 holier, and will triumph over natural affection. 
 
 As an interesting and instructive illustration of the com- 
 parative strength of natural and spiritual affection, I will sub- 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 
 
 305 
 
 mit a brief statement of the trial of a young friend. Some 
 time ago a young man of fine abilities and a good education, 
 and a member of one of the Jesuit orders in one of our large 
 cities, was awakened by the spirit of God, and made to see 
 the errors which abounded in the Roman Catholic Church ; 
 and, after mature reflection, he terminated his connection 
 with it. A few months after this occurred, he made applica- 
 tion for membership to the church of which I was pastor ; 
 and after a careful examination of the motives which influ- 
 enced him to renounce Romanism, the reasons for the 
 hope that he cherished, and a suitable term of probation, 
 he was duly admitted. Some time after his admission into 
 charch fellowship, he wrote home, informing his brother, who 
 is a priest, of the change in his ecclesiastical relations, and 
 the iTiotives which induced the change. In answer to these 
 tidings, he received a letter from his former bishop, and also 
 one from his aged mother, written by his sister. The bishop 
 strongly appealed to his natural affections, and said " he had 
 seen too deeply into his heart not to feel assured that his 
 beloved son would retrieve this fatal step, and expressed the 
 hope of his speedy return to the bosom of the Holy Mother." 
 But his mother seemed to be deeply affected, and her very 
 soul was stirred by the news of her son's conversion to 
 Protestantism. She threw all the tenderness and yearnings 
 of her maternal nature into her letter, in which she besought 
 him to retrace his steps. " Were I not enfeebled by age," 
 said she, " I would cross seas and continents to gain your 
 presence, and, like the mother of Augustine, I would throw 
 26* 
 
306. THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 myself at your feet, and would not stir until you would 
 return to the faith. 0, my son, my son! my fallen son!" 
 After telling him that prayers were ofTered in all the churches 
 of the parish for his recovery to the Church, his sister informs 
 him that his portrait, which hung in the parlor, and which 
 was fondly looked upon from day to day, had been removed 
 out of sight, and a picture of the Virgin Mary put in its 
 place. It was a sore trial, for he fondly loved that aged 
 mother, that brother and sister, and it was literally giving 
 them up; but, blessed be God, he loved his Saviour more 
 than these, and he stood unshaken amid those mighty appeals 
 which fell upon his heart with unusual power. This shows 
 the superiority of spiritual over natural affection. But, 
 although he was willing for Christ's sake to have himself cut 
 off and cast out of the hearts of his kindred, and they were 
 ready, in obedience to the dictates of a superstitious system, 
 to put out of sight the very image of the absent one that 
 glowed so harmlessly on the canvass, all this could not 
 destroy that family bond which made them one. For while 
 ostensibly there is a gulf between them so wide and deep 
 that neither could venture to cross it, that bond of union 
 which made them members of the same family reaches across 
 that gulf; and do what they may, they cannot annihilate that 
 affection which they bear to each other. 
 
 And this is surely not an isolated case ; for there are 
 innumerable instances where such barriers interpose, that all 
 personal intercourse is broken off between those of the same 
 household ; but though they should even desire to extinguish 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 307 
 
 their love for those who are joined to them by ties of con- 
 sanguinity, they shall not be able to do it. It is a law of 
 their nature, and they must yield submission to its dictates. 
 There is a father whose wishes have been thwarted concerning 
 a beloved, perhaps idolized, child, whose disobedience to 
 parental authority has banished her from his home and 
 presence ; but although there may be a coolness and deter- 
 minateness of aspect on his brow, and an inflexible sternness 
 may mantle his features, which would exclude the disobedient 
 one from his house, yet, notwithstanding that forbidding ex- 
 terior, that daughter has a home in his heart ; and in secret 
 he deplores her in all the bitterness of his soul. A kind* 
 Providence has, therefore, made a glorious provision, and 
 placed, it in our spiritual constitution with which to arm us 
 acjainst those calamities and changes which are incident to 
 our earthly pilgrimage. We are united to those we love by 
 eternal bonds. They may pass away from the earth, and we 
 may commit their bodies to the tomb ; but this bond reaches 
 beyond the sepulchre, and holds them in sweet embrace. 
 Such a view is certainly not opposed to the teachings of the 
 Scriptures, and is in strict conformity with the laws of our 
 being, and the testimony of our inward consciousness. We 
 are just as cognizant of the fact that we love our sainted 
 friends, as we are that we affectionately cherish our fellow- 
 pilgrims on earth. There is not a day that we do not hold 
 communion with them, and they with us. For it is our 
 privilege to believe that our departed are interested in our 
 welfare, and perhaps permitted to attend us, and to minister 
 
808 THE INDESTRUCTIBLITY OF 
 
 to US in our upward progress to eternal life. While they are 
 elevated in their views and feelings above the possibility of 
 experiencing pain (supposing them to be cognizant of our 
 infirmities and imperfections), they may be round and about 
 us, and render important service in the work of our salva- 
 tion. But whatever the offices may be with which they are 
 charged, we rejoice in the assurances of our hearts that the 
 flow of affection between us and them continues in a current 
 that is ever deepening and widening as we are progressing 
 towards our eternal home. The indestructibility of this 
 bond of family union is a gracious and exhaustless source 
 of consolation to the children of God, and a conviction to 
 which the soul clings with all its immortal energies. This 
 thought is beautifully expanded in some stanzas by Words- 
 worth, in a dialogue with a little girl whom he interrogates as 
 to the number of their family 
 
 " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, 
 
 How many may you be ?" 
 " How many ? seven in all," she said, 
 
 And wondering looked at me. 
 " And where are they, I pray you tell ?" 
 She answered, " Seven are we, 
 And two of us at Conway dwell, 
 
 And two are gone to sea. 
 Two of us in the churchyard lie — 
 
 My sister and my brother ; 
 And in the churchyard cottage, I 
 Dwell near them with my mother." 
 " But they are dead; those two are dead! 
 Their spirits are in heaven !" 
 'Twas throwing words away : for still 
 The little Maid would have her will, 
 And said, "Nay, wo arc seven." 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 309 
 
 No poet, ay, no philosopher could have changed her mind, 
 for none could reason out of existence this family bond. 
 They were seven ; two were at sea, two at Conway, two 
 were slumbering in the grave, and she was living with her 
 mother — like the billows of the deep, which are distinct 
 and many, yet form but one ocean. 
 
 It is a blessed thought that we shall still love in heaven, 
 and experience joy in the society of dear departed ones. 
 How cheering the knowledge, while toiling through the world 
 as strangers and pilgrims, that the bond of affection which 
 unites us to hearts throbbing with the same high impulses, 
 and animated with the same immortal hopes which thrill 
 within us, is to last forever! And if we have beloved parents, 
 brothers, sisters, companions, or children amid the glorious 
 realities of that immortal state where one instant is worth all 
 the concentrated delights of earth, we are linked by the 
 strongest and tenderest ties to those amazing blessings which 
 are at the right hand of God. Christianity throws a grandeur 
 around the prospects of the believer, so dazzling that an 
 angel might sink in silent wonder and admiration before it. 
 And what motives do these considerations furnish to rear our 
 children for heaven ! If we attune infant lips to praise, those 
 notes of thanksgiving will vibrate forever. If the mouldino- 
 hand of the Redeemer is drawn upon them, and the Holy 
 Spirit teaches their hearts to make melody to the Lord, those 
 melodies will be heard when the music of the spheres shall 
 be silent. And ! what rapture will spread through the 
 
310 THE INDESTKUCTIBILITY OF 
 
 entire circle, when all the members of our family shall have 
 reached those blissful shores ! Who can imagine what we 
 shall feel, when it can be said we are all in heaven! When 
 the last wanderer has come in with songs of deliverance, and 
 the shout rings through the armies of the redeemed — all 
 home, home from the distant land — forever home ! Let us 
 rejoice in this union of hearts. Let us bless God for making 
 the family bond durable as the soul. ! my sainted mother ! 
 my beloved sister ! my beautiful angel boy, I will not deplore 
 you as lost; for ye are still ours, we are yet one, and shall 
 forever be, for that bond which unites us shall exist in all its 
 vigor when the wheels of the universe stand still ! When 
 every mountain shall have fallen, it shall stand unimpaired ; 
 when every law whose authority is acknowledged by material 
 nature shall have been annulled, this law which makes us 
 one, shall be in force. When every river has run dry, and 
 the sea is without a drop, this family bond shall roll through 
 the immense channels of our immortal being, streams of 
 glory. This assurance of the indestructibility of the family 
 bond, fills even the grief-stricken with ecstacy, and sheds 
 gleams of eternal sunshine upon the life, dark with afflictive 
 bereavements. And is there not a depth of consolation in 
 this, which should reanimate with joy those desolate souls 
 which are wasting away in sighs of grief! Come to the cross, 
 ye mourning and afflicted ones ; gather around the bleeding 
 sacrifice of Calvary ; steep those hearts in atoning blood, 
 until, washed and purified, they become the habitation of the 
 
THE FAMILY BOND. 311 
 
 Holy Ghost, and he will give birth to such hopes as will shed 
 a sweet peace over your wounded and weary spirits, while 
 they will raise you into communion with the saints on high. 
 And if we are exalted into fellowship with the Father and 
 the Son, we shall finally ascend to the presence of God, 
 " where there is fulness of joy, and to his right hand where 
 there are pleasures forevermore." 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. 
 
 AT THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED WE MAY 
 ALSO LEARN THE RIGHT WHICH GOD HOLDS IN 
 US AND OUR FAMILIES. 
 
 " No man liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. For whether 
 we live, "we live unto the Lord, and whether we die, we die unto the 
 Lord ; whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." 
 
 In the death of those we love, God declares His sovereign 
 right to us, and to ours. He alone has power to give life, 
 and power to take it away. " We are the Lord's." And 
 it is at the graves of departed ones that we realize the fact, 
 that it is the Divine prerogative, to do with us and our 
 families as the wisdom of His counsel may suggest best 
 suited to promote His glory, and to advance our happiness. 
 And if our minds are properly instructed in relation to the 
 right which He holds in all His creatures, and our hearts are 
 schooled to acquiesce in all the dispensations of His Provi- 
 dence, we will be able to say in seasons of bereavement — 
 "It is the Lord; let him do what seemeth him good." 
 " The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the 
 name of the Lord." In the language of the Apostle which I 
 
 (312) 
 
god's iiiaiiT IN us. 313 
 
 have placed at the head of this chapter, there are two impor- 
 tant truths asserted. No man liveth to himself. Man is a 
 part of a great system, a link in that chain which binds him 
 in sympathy with all things. He is so connected with the 
 great universe of mind, that he cannot so isolate himself as 
 to act alone, or have the results of his actions terminate upon 
 himself. It is utterly impossible for him not to affect others 
 by his life and death. He will contribute his influence for 
 evil or for good, to the commynity which is the sphere of his 
 exertions. But upon this truth I will not dwell, and there- 
 fore, at once pass to the consideration of the other, viz : 
 " that we are the Lord's." We belong to God. " All souls 
 are mine, saith the Lord, as the soul of the father, so also the 
 soul of the son is mine." As the fashioner of our bodies 
 and the framer of our spirits, He has the same sovereign right 
 in us and our families, as He has in any of His other creations. 
 As the Creator of the universe, it is perfectly just that "He 
 has established His throne in the heavens, and that His king- 
 dom ruleth over all." We question not his right to every 
 system and planet, to every star which flames in the firma- 
 ment above, to this earth with all its furniture, to every 
 creature, rational or irrational, for He is the Almighty Maker 
 of heaven and earth, of things visible and invisible. The 
 Psalmist says, "the sea is His, for He made it." And the 
 Lord himself says, " every beast of the forest is mine, and 
 the cattle upon a thousand hills. I know all the fowls of the 
 mountains; and the wild beasts of the field are mine — the 
 world also and the fulness thereof." If we grant, therefore, 
 27 
 
314 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 that He has an indisputable right to every creature, from the 
 tall archangel to the worm which crawls in the dust ; if the 
 fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea ; if all the gems and 
 the buried wealth of the earth, as well as the gold and silver, 
 are His, then upon the same ground may His right be 
 asserted to every human being. We are the Lord's by 
 the right of creation. He is the centre from which proceeded 
 that creative energy which peopled immensity with its glo\v- 
 ing orbs, with its suns and systems. From the same source 
 issued the wisdom and power which formed man, and which 
 uphold him, for God is the fountain of his blessing, the spring 
 of his joy, and the centre of his glory. 
 
 There is no better, or higher right known or recognized 
 in the universe, than that which God has in us. All nations, 
 civilized and barbarous. Christian and pagan, concede the 
 right of property to him who is the originator or producer of 
 a thing. And the law of the land throws its shield of protec- 
 tion over the productions of man's physical or intellectual 
 energies. The creations of genius, as well as the fruits of 
 humble toil, are secured to their proper owners. If an 
 individual invents some nicely contrived machinery, by which 
 labor is lessened in the production of some article of com 
 merce, and it thus becomes a source of gain, he is protected 
 in his right, and in whatever of distinction or profit it may 
 confer upon him. The sculptor sits down to a block of 
 marble, and by patient toil, directed by the force of a high 
 genius, elaborates a human form clothed with grace and 
 beauty, and fitted to adorn the cabinet : and he not only 
 
god's right in us. 315 
 
 claims, but all men cheerfully accord to him the right of 
 property in it. And if he had the power to clothe thai 
 statue with muscles of flesh, and place within it a throbbing 
 heart and heaving lungs ; and if he could endow it with 
 intellectual and moral faculties, and make it a thing of life, 
 of motion, and of thought, it would be no less his. And this 
 is precisely \vhat God has done for every human being. He 
 has bestowed upon us the powers of sensibility and of 
 thought. " We are fearfully and wonderfully made," " and 
 the breath of the Almighty hath given us understanding." 
 And having made us, has He not a right in us, far more just 
 and absolute, than the artist has in the production of his 
 genius ? And may not He, without the slightest infringement 
 upon the laws of justice or propriety, dispose of us in any 
 way that his pleasure may dictate or his glory demand ? And 
 the argument loses none of its force, when it is applied to 
 any thing which we possess, whether it be property, or friends, 
 or children ; for all are the gift of Almighty God. These 
 are treasures loaned to us by the Lord, and may be demanded 
 by Him at any time. And if He has need of the services of 
 our friends or children elsewhere, and removes them, 
 not reluctantly, but cheerfully should they be surrendered. 
 When He would place another gem in the Redeemer's 
 diadem, add another note to the lofty anthem of redeeming 
 love, or needs another ministering spirit in the* execution of 
 the work of redemption, it should be a matter of granulation, 
 if we are privileged to furnish God one from our fold, for the 
 accomplishment of such an end. We should early learn this 
 
316 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 lesson, and always cherish a realizing sense of His right in 
 us and our families. And do we not offer our infants to the 
 Lord in Holy Baptism, and thus solemnly consecrate them to 
 His service, and by this means virtually acknowledge His 
 right to claim them whenever it seemeth Him good to transfer 
 them from earth to heaven? We should, therefore, resign 
 them to His arms without a murmur. 
 
 We find a very interesting illustration on this point, in the 
 history of a Swiss lady, and the wife of an honorable and 
 distinguished nobleman. Having been carefully educated in 
 the great principles of Christianity, she was known as a 
 w^oman of eminent piety, who had correct views of God's 
 right to all that He had placed in her possession. Her 
 marriage was blest with two little boys ; and these being the 
 only children, both parents ardently cherished them. They 
 were spared to them, until they had arrived at that interesting 
 age when the body glows with its highest charms, and the 
 mental and moral faculties unfold in such a manner as to 
 make youth exceedingly lovely. Gentle, amiable, and intelli- 
 gent, they were truly the jewels of their fond parents. Some 
 important business about this time called the father away 
 from his home, and during his absence they took ill 
 and died, a short time before he had returned. He had 
 known nothing of their illness or death ; and his excellent 
 wife, feeling the importance of gently breaking the painful 
 intelligence, as soon as she had welcomed him home, thus 
 addressed him : "My husband, I have something to tell you, 
 ■^hich I did during your absence, and must know at once, 
 
god's right in us. 317 
 
 whether it meets your approbation. While you were away, 
 a friend of mine who some years ago loaned me a number of 
 jewels, came here and said that he needed them, and there- 
 fore found it necessary to demand them. I told him that as 
 my husband as well as myself greatly valued them, I would 
 prefer, if he could wait until your return, and I would then 
 restore them ; but this he declined, and kindly but firmly 
 claimed them ; and so I surrendered them to the owner. 
 Did I do right, my lord ?" The husband replied, " How can 
 my good wife ask me such a question ? surely it was right." 
 " Come then," she said, "this way;" and leading him to the 
 couch where she had laid her loved ones, she lifted the white 
 sheet from her lovely boys who were sleeping in death, and 
 said, " These are my jewels. God gave them ; God claimed 
 them while you were away, and I gave them up," and she fell 
 upon his bosom and wept. The intelligence was well broken, 
 for, as soon as the stricken father could command utterance, 
 he said, " The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away, blessed 
 be the name of the Lord." 
 
 But w^e are the Lord's not only because we are the 
 creatures of His power, but also because to this right of 
 creation He adds that of preservation. He who stretched 
 out the heavens, and formed the earth, and created man upon 
 it, is also the gracious Preserver of all things. The creating 
 and sustaining power reside in the same Being. The preserv- 
 ing mercy or providence of God extends over ad the 
 universe ; it is felt in the world farthest from His throne, 
 and in the least as in tlKj, greatest of objects. Systems, suns, 
 97* 
 
318 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 and stars, are fed by His light, and clothed with glory by His 
 hand ; and all are moved by the impulse of the Almighty's 
 will. And thus, also, does His merciful providence extend 
 over us, and hold us in being. We are as dependent upon 
 God for life and its varied blessings, as the infant is upon the 
 bosom of its mother from which it draws its nourishment. 
 The Apostle expresses this idea very forcibly when he says, 
 "In Him we live, and move, and have our being." Inde- 
 pendently of His preserving mercy, there is no life and no 
 blessing. Pluck up a tree or a plant by its roots, and thus 
 destroy its connection with the earth, and it will quickly die. 
 And thus if God's providential care should be withdrawn 
 from us, we would cease to exist. We hold the same rela- 
 . tion to His sustaining power as the members do to the body ; 
 and just as this arm, if severed from its source of life, would 
 fall to the earth and rot, thus, also, would we instantly perish 
 were we cut off from the vital source of all things. If He is, 
 therefore, the author of our being and the preserver of our 
 lives, we are unquestionably His property. And if in His 
 wisdom He removes us, or any that we cherish. He is only 
 enforcing that right to us which we have already acknow- 
 ledged, and must daily acknowledge. And not only does 
 God claim us because He has brought us into being, 
 and preserves us from day to day, but He is continually 
 occupied in doing us good. We breathe His air,, enjoy 
 His sunshine, drink refreshing draughts from His fountains, 
 and are nourished by the fruits which His providence 
 rroduces. There is no blessing ftf which He is not the 
 
god's eight in us. 319 
 
 author ; for " every good and every perfect gift cometh 
 down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no 
 variableness, neither shadow of turning." If in this world a 
 human being could be divorced from all the favors of Provi- 
 dence, what would there be left ? 
 
 And while it is of His infinite and spontaneous mercy that 
 we are upheld and nourished, He gives us all needful bless- 
 ings in rich abundance. His smiles fell upon our helpless 
 infancy, and the light of His countenance illumines our path 
 through life. And while we are under solemn obligations to 
 love and to serve Him, and to place ourselves and all we 
 have at His disposal, in view of the manifold favors which 
 we have received from His hands. He has also been to us a 
 covert from the storm, and a shield in the day of peril. He 
 has guarded us from dangers seen and unseen. When 
 visible calamities threatened to overwhelm us. He reached 
 over us His protecting arm. And the records of eternity 
 will only reveal the countless, unseen dangers from which 
 the hand of Jehovah delivered us along the journey of life. 
 It will then be made manifest how " He gave His angels 
 charge concerning us ;" how they encamped about us by 
 night, and watched over us by day ; for " white-winged 
 angels meet the child on the vestibule of life," attend it 
 through its pilgrimage, and hover around the coffin of old 
 age, and never relinquish their ministering office until they 
 have borne the spirit to the bosom of God. And it is this 
 sleepless anxiety, this fatherly solicitude which the great God 
 every moment exercises over us, that gives Him an undoubted 
 
320 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 right to us who are the objects of His care, and the recipients 
 of His mercies. 
 
 But there is another right recognized among men as just 
 which God holds in us, and that is, the right acquired by- 
 possession. " By the law of nations the first discoverer of a 
 country is regarded as entitled to its possession ; and the 
 mventor of an art hath a right of exercising it." And if it 
 be deemed just (and mankind are agreed as to this,) for a 
 nation to claim the ownership in a continent or an island by 
 virtue of its discovery and possession, though they could 
 have had no agency in the formation of its soil, or tlie crea- 
 tion of its wealth, how much more may God claim us as His 
 rightful property, when He has made us, and possessed us 
 from our infancy ! It w'as under His fostering care that our 
 minds were taught to think, and our hearts to feel. He held 
 us within the embraces of His love and the circle of His 
 protection; and in the light of His favor and under the 
 gracious influences which He breathed upon us, our souls 
 have grown to their present expansion. Those objects in 
 the external world which excited our minds to intellectual 
 efibrts, and which warmed our affections into life, were 
 placed there by His hand. Those glowing heavens which 
 kindled admiration in our souls, which gave wing to our 
 thoughts and grasp ^to our imaginations; those varied 
 landscapes, and bold mountains, magnificent rivers, and 
 capacious seas, whose beauty and grandeur charmed 
 our eyes, invigorated and expanded our intellects, were 
 all fashioned and adorned by infinite power. " Lift up 
 
god's right in us. 321 
 
 your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, 
 that bringeth out their hosts by number : He calleth them all 
 by names, by the greatness of his might, for that He is strong 
 in power, not one faileth." And while all those objects in 
 nature which have contributed to the development of our 
 intellectual faculties, were created by the Lord ; thus, also, 
 must that moral excellence which any of us possess, be 
 ascribed to those divinely ordained instrumentalities and 
 influences which have come from Him. No human agency, 
 apart from the divine blessing, can refine, elevate, and 
 sanctify our spiritual being. All good desires, and all 
 virtuous actions, must be regarded as the products of the 
 Holy Spirit. So that, in whatever light we may regard our- 
 selves, we are emphatically the Lord's. " He has fearfully 
 and wonderfully made us;" — taught our bodies to move, our 
 minds to think, and our hearts to love ; and therefore, in view 
 of these considerations. He has a perfect right to us, and 
 to dispose of us, paramount to that of the potter over his 
 vessel. 
 
 But we are the Lord's by purchase or redemption. Man, 
 by his voluntary disobedience, fell under the displeasure of 
 God. He forfeited every claim to the Divine favor, and 
 became the victim of a painful vassalage, and the slave of 
 sin. "He was sold under the law," and no created power 
 could redeem him from the curse which he had brought upon 
 himself. Doomed to everlasting wo, God might have left 
 him in this lamentable condition without bringing any reflec- 
 tion upon His government. He might have permitted this 
 
322 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 whole rebellious race to lie forever under the weight of a 
 deep damnation, and His throne would have remained spot- 
 less. But His mercy restrained justice, and so eloquently 
 pleaded the cause of the fallen, that the adorable Son of God 
 compassionated our condition, and covenanted with the 
 Father to assume our debt, and to suffer in our stead, the 
 penalty of the violated law. It was the law of a great God, 
 and a great empire, which had been broken, and it demanded 
 a sacrifice for atonement, corresponding in dignity with the 
 divine statute. None but the Supreme law-giver could furnish 
 an expedient, and hence Jesus Christ alone could redeem us. 
 By a union of His divine nature with the human. He could 
 make an adequate atonement, for His sufferings would be as 
 infinite in their merit, as were his perfections in dignity ; and 
 thus He constitutes the link in that chain which binds us iu 
 reconciliation with God. " For we are redeemed not with cor- 
 ruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with the precious 
 blood of Jesus Christ, who was slain as a lamb without spot 
 and without blemish." " He was wounded for our transgres- 
 sions, and with his stripes we are healed." " The Lord hath 
 laid on Him the iniquity of us all." And it was in virtue of 
 His atoning sacrifice that the whole race became his property. 
 To Him, are promised, " the heathen for his inheritance, and 
 the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession." In view 
 of His humiliation and death, " the Father also hath highly ex- 
 alted Him, and given Him a name above every other name. 
 That at the name of Jesus," as the great mediatorial king, 
 " every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in 
 
god's RIGIIIT IN US. 323 
 
 earth, and things under the earth ; And that every tongue 
 should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God 
 the Father." It is not necessary to enlarge upon this point in 
 order to prove that we are Christ's, and that He has a sovereign 
 right in those whom He has redeemed ; suffice it to say, that the 
 law of the universe recognized us as slaves to a perpetual bond- 
 age, and by the authority of that law, Jesus Christ has obtained 
 an eternal right to the whole human family. Among the ancient 
 Romans there was a statute called "the redemption law," 
 which allowed citizens to purchase captives taken in war, 
 and subject them to involuntary servitude for life, or free them 
 at their pleasure. But when persons of this class were 
 emancipated by their masters, it was considered that gratitude 
 and friendship should cause the captives to remain in the 
 sarvice of him who befriended them, by first redeeming them, 
 and then giving them their freedom. And should not our 
 love for our compassioilate Redeemer, act with such force as 
 to make us His willing servants, and induce us to place our- 
 selves and our all at His disposal ? For, has He not redeemed 
 us from a worse slavery, and possessed us of a more glorious 
 liberty ? A few years ago, a wealthy gentleman of New 
 Orleans manumitted two slaves, who had faithfully served 
 him, and legally secured ample provision for their support, 
 and shortly afterwards died. And now, these colored men, 
 thus befriended, out of gratitude to their benefactor, spend 
 several hours each day in scouring the marble of his tomb, 
 and in decorating with fresh flowers, the place of his repose. 
 Whatever we may think of the manner in which they show 
 
824 THE SEPULCHKE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 their gratitude to their former master, we must admit that 
 they exhibit a commendable appreciation of his goodness. 
 And if we appreciate the kindness of our Divine Master, and 
 properly value the benefactions with which he has crowned 
 us, should we not be w-illing to give to our exalted Re- 
 deemer, a few of the flowers which adorn the garden of our 
 home, wherewith He may decorate His throne in heaven ? 
 Yes! we, our children, and friends, are all Thine, blessed 
 Saviour, for Thou hast purchased us with Thy anguish and 
 blood ; and we will not withhold from Thee, those whom 
 Thou wilt make partakers of Thy glory. 
 
 Such a recognition of the Divine right to us and our 
 families carries with it many blessed advantages. It Avill 
 exert a good influence upon us while we are occupied in 
 their education, and in making provision for their support. 
 It will incline us to bring up our children in the nurture and 
 admonition of the Lord, so that, when they are removed 
 from earth, they may be fitted for heaven. With just con- 
 ceptions of the relation which they and we sustain to God, 
 our influence over them, and our training of them, will all be 
 regulated in such a manner as to secure for us all the Divine 
 approbation. It will, also, induce us to bestow a higher care 
 and culture upon their souls than upon their bodies. Regard- 
 ing them as youthful immortals, we will strive to invest them 
 with those spiritual adornments which will fit them to shine 
 not so much upon the theatre of this world as in the king- 
 dom of their Father above. And we will be much more 
 concerned to make them heirs of the riches of eternal glory, 
 
god's right in us. 325 
 
 than to make them the inheritors of those treasures which are 
 transient and perishable. For a title to the mansions of God 
 and to the fields of light, written by the Spirit upon their 
 hearts, \vill, in our estimation, far exceed in value the parch- 
 ment that would make them heirs of earthly kingdoms. 
 And when there are unremitted efforts put forth on our part 
 to bring them to a knowledge of Him, whom to know aright 
 is life eternal, we can scarcely fail of success, since God is 
 striving with us for the accomplishment of the same end. 
 
 This acknowledgment of the Divine right in us and to our 
 families will also exert an important and determining power 
 in regard to the pursuits in which we might wish our children 
 to engage. We will not withhold them from any work or 
 position which the providence of God clearly marks out for 
 them. We will not object, but rejoice, if they choose even 
 the most self-denying and arduous callings, if by so doing 
 they glorify God, and secure the salvation of their souls. 
 And while it will reconcile us to any sacrifice of feeling or 
 comfort which we may endure when God calls a child to 
 labor in some distant field, it also compensates us by the 
 delightful assurance that the energies of its being are devoted 
 to their appropriate use. But a recognition of this right 
 will also exert a good influence upon our attachments. These 
 w^ill be formed with reference to, and in subordination of, the 
 Divine right in the objects we love. We will cherish each 
 other as immortal beings, so that when death parts us we 
 acquiesce in the dispensation enforcing the right which 
 28 
 
326 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE OF 
 
 God holds in our friends. And thus, in every bereavement 
 will we see the finger of the Lord, and find consolation 
 for our o-rief-stricken hearts. This doctrine carries a sweet 
 savor into all the relations of life, and clothes all things with 
 an unearthly charm. In its light I look upon myself and my 
 family as the property of God ; and I must not, therefore, 
 put my faculties, my time, and talents, to any other use than 
 that which He has designated. The sphere which He has 
 appointed is the only appropriate sphere for my exertions. 
 The work which He has commanded I must cheerfully per- 
 form. And so far as my influence can control the lives and 
 actions of others, it must be exerted to bring them into con- 
 formity with the Divine will. In what an interesting light 
 will all things be contemplated, if we cherish sentiments 
 which recognize God as the owner and ruler of them. 
 And with such views, how easy it is to consecrate our mental 
 and moral faculties, our property, and our children, to the 
 service and glory of Him whose we are ! ! it stamps an 
 immortal worth upon our bodies and souls, and throws an 
 inconceivable grandeur around the destiny of human beings. 
 And where there is a hearty acknowledgment of this right, 
 and a full surrender of ourselves to Him who claims us, we 
 pass from a state of sin to a state of holiness ; and from the 
 bondage of corruption and the gloomy prospect of eternal 
 wrath to the heirship of unclouded and everlasting glory. 
 For when we believe that we are His by creation, preserva- 
 tion, and redemption, and receive Jesus Christ in all His 
 
god's right in us. 327 
 
 fulness and all His offices, we enter into the possession of 
 all things. All things are your's, says the Apostle. And to 
 what an exalted position are Christians then elevated ! We 
 have an interest in, and a right to, all the universe, for we are 
 heirs with Christ — heirs of all the worlds which people im- 
 mensity, of all the blessings and resources of universal 
 dominion, and of all the glories which may be evolved 
 through the tremendous cycles of endless duration out of the 
 unfathomable bosom of eternity and the infinite nature of 
 Jehovah. And with such a hope, death itself becomes one 
 of our greatest earthly blessings, forasmuch as it ushers us 
 into this boundless circle of high and perpetual glory. And 
 while we fmd in this assurance every thing to sustain us, it 
 also reconciles us to the departure of those we love. For to 
 whatever comfort, happiness, honor, and renown they might 
 have been exalted on earth, all honorable distinctions here 
 are but as a drop to the ocean, when compared with their 
 portion in eternity. Let us, then, devoutly acknowledge 
 God's right in us and our families ; and by earnest prayer 
 and lively faith draw upon our homes those gracious influences 
 from above, which will beautify our souls with salvation, and 
 qualify us for an abundant entrance into the " rest which 
 remaineth to the people of God." Lord Jesus, do Thou help 
 us to recognize in Thy blood-stained cross the infinite price 
 which Thou hast paid for our redemption, and draw us with 
 the sweet influences of Thy grace, and mould us into Thine 
 own image ; for 
 
328 THE SEPULCHRE AN EVIDENCE, ETC. 
 
 •' Thou art the source and centre of all minds, 
 Their only point of rest, eternal Christ ; 
 From thee departing, they are lost, and rovo 
 At random, without honor, hope, or peace. 
 From Thee is all that smoothes the life of man ; 
 His high endeavours, and his glad success ; 
 His strength to suffer, and his will to serve! 
 But ! thou bounteous giver of all good, 
 Thou art of all thy gifts thyself the crown ; 
 Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor, 
 And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away." 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. 
 
 FUTURE RECOGNITION 
 
 *•! felt that however long to me 
 The slumber of the grave might be ; 
 I should know him again, 'mid the countless throng, 
 Who shall bear a part in the Seraphim's song." 
 
 Shall we know our friends in heaven ? This question 
 has been either silently or audibly uttered by all thoughtful 
 minds, while lingering around the remains of their departed. 
 Such an intense interest hangs around this subject, that it 
 may be safely presumed, no one can be altogether indif- 
 ferent to the answer which may be given to the question. 
 And while nothing more than detached or incidental remarks 
 from others have fallen under my notice ; and to my 
 knowledge, no elaborate discussion to disprove this univer- 
 sally received doctrine has ever been attempted, it is some- 
 what remarkable that the interrogatory should be so frequently 
 and anxiously addressed to us by those bereaved ones, to 
 whom we administer the consolations of the gospel. But is 
 not this fact in itself the most conclusive proof of the 
 intensity of feeling with which the subject is pondered in 
 2S* (;-i29) 
 
330 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 their own hearts ? Even those who have no doubts as to its 
 truthfulness, feel as though they must be reassured and 
 established in the belief, that they shall know those in heaven 
 whom they loved on earth. And in a matter so vitally 
 connected with our peace, and which is so eminently fitted 
 to beget within us a holy resignation to the Divine dispensa- 
 tions, and inspire us wath the most delightful anticipations, it 
 is certainly proper to gather all the light and argument which 
 it is possible to furnish on this subject. And more particu- 
 larly, because, while it animates the Christian in his upward 
 journey, and arms him with fortitude under trials, it presents 
 a powerful inducement to the neglecters of religion, to 
 renounce their sins, and to seek that moral preparation which 
 is absolutely essential to bring them into blessed reunion with 
 sainted friends. But to feel the truth of a subject, and to 
 unfold it intelligently, and to establish it logically, are very 
 different things. All persons know the refreshing qualities 
 of water, and yet many cannot describe its constituent parts. 
 All know^ the importance of light, in those revelations of the 
 world around us which it makes to our vision ; and yet while 
 all may know the effects it produces, many may be unac- 
 quainted with its properties and its laws. And thus it is in 
 relation to some moral subjects, which are more particularly 
 matters of faith ; they may be felt with all the certainty of a 
 demonstration, and yet lie beyond the range of our discern- 
 ment and proof. All things which pertain to the invisible 
 world, are shrouded in mystery and obscurity, if the light of 
 revelation has not fallen upon them and discovered them to 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 331 
 
 our apprehension. And while the scriptures do not speak so 
 clearly and distinctly on this subject, as upon many others, 
 they give us intimations in relation to it, which cannot well 
 be misunderstood, and open to us a large field where we may 
 gather inferential proof of a strong and decided character. 
 These we shall bring forward in their appropriate place. The 
 first reason which we would assign for our belief in this 
 doctrine, is, that according to our apprehensions of the bless- 
 edness of the saints in heaven, the recognition of those with 
 whom we were intimately associated, and whom we loved 
 on earth, forms an important element of future happiness. I 
 am aware, that persons in speaking of the felicity of the 
 righteous, have sometimes expressed themselves in a manner 
 which might induce the belief, that their souls are so filled 
 with the Divine glory, that God forms the only object of their 
 enjoyment, admiration, and rapture. And while we readily 
 concede that the manifestations of the adorable Trinity, form 
 the prominent and chief source of the glory of the redeemed ; 
 we cannot suppose that there will be such an absorption in 
 God, that all other objects fitted to contribute to their felicity 
 will be set aside, or annihilated. On the contrary, we are 
 permitted to believe that other things, apart from God, will 
 be contempt] ated and enjoyed with satisfaction. The blessings 
 and mysteries of redemption constitute a theme to which 
 sainted as well as angelic minds will forever turn with 
 increasing wonder ; but our conceptions of heaven make it 
 necessary that other things should become tributary to their 
 happiness. From the structure of the mind, as well as from 
 
832 . FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 our experience in regard to our intellectual and moral opera- 
 tions, variety in the objects contemplated, and in the exer- 
 cises engaged in, are necessary to happiness. And we 
 cannot allow that such a constitutional change in our 
 intellectual structure will take place, that the present laws 
 and tendencies of the mind will all be inoperative in the 
 world to come. It is conceded and expected, that the 
 amazing works of infinite power — the universe with its 
 gorgeous furniture — its systems and worlds, as viewed with 
 the rapid glance of the mind with its enlarged capacities, will 
 be productive of ineffable delight. And if the visible glories 
 with which Deity has garnished the residence of his saints, 
 are designed to increase their pleasure, and to heighten their 
 rapture ; have we not still stronger ground to believe that 
 the friendships and associations of earth, which are so inti- 
 mately interwoven with our thoughts and feelings, and which 
 enter into the very texture and frame-work of our nature, 
 will be allowed to subserve a yet higher office in the promo- 
 tion of our happiness in the celestial home. 
 
 That this supposition is not visionary, but rational ; appears 
 from the fact, that human beings are eminently social ; and 
 next to communion with God, there is no other source from 
 which we derive so much elevated enjoyment, as from the 
 society of kindred minds. And the more intimately we are 
 united with each other, the richer and holier is the pleasure 
 which we experience. And instead of being sinful, this bond 
 of union when sanctified, becomes an element of religion. 
 The love which we bear to each other, is the basis of all 
 
FUTUKE RECOGNITION. 333 
 
 social happiness ! Supreme love to God is the first and 
 greatest duty of man, and the legitimate offspring of this 
 supreme affection for the Lord, is love to our fellow-creatures. 
 We are required to love our neighbor as ourselves. And if 
 that love which we cherish for each other, and which forms a 
 part of our nature, is sanctified and elevated into vital union 
 with that love which we have for God, it is manifest that the 
 one cannot perish any more than the other. It forms a part 
 of the Christian's being, just as certainly, as love to the Su- 
 preme Being forms the bond of union between God and his 
 saints. And passing into eternity with this imperishable 
 principle of love for each other, could we be happy without 
 knowing those whom we do love ? Or rather, could we love 
 those whom we do not know? Is not a knowledge of the 
 character of God, anterior to the existence of the love which 
 we cherish for Him ? Can we love anything without an 
 acquaintance with its properties or appearance ? We admire 
 the landscape only after we have looked out upon the beauti- 
 ful objects w'ith which it is diversified ; or when its character 
 has been brought to our perceptions through some other 
 agency than the eye. And upon this same basis do we place 
 our argument, for the truth of the doctrine under discussion. 
 There could be no love for each other in heaven, if there be 
 no recognition of friends there. But as we are assured by 
 the oracles of truth, that love is the great law^ of heaven and 
 the fountain from which the chief blessings of the redeemed 
 flow ; we deem the argument conclusive, that we shall know 
 each other in our future home. It can be readily seen, that 
 
334 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 without the admission of this doctrine we are driven to the 
 only ahernative ; the belief that our nature will be essentially 
 different then, from what it is now. But what ground have 
 we to warrant such a conclusion ? For while the Scriptures 
 teach us that we shall carry nothing sinful into the habitation 
 of the blest, "for nothing that defileth can enter there," they 
 leave us to infer, that our humanity with its sanctified affec- 
 tions and all its essential properties, shall ascend into the 
 presence of Jehovah. 
 
 We might also contend for the truth of this doctrine on 
 the ground that it is not opposed to reason. It may, indeed, 
 be affirmed with truth, that unaided reason could not, from 
 its deductions, positively assure us that we shall know each 
 other in the future world ; but then the doctrine does not 
 conflict with any of its conclusions. On the contrary, it is 
 reasonable to infer, from the known character of God and 
 His dealings with His creatures, that He will deprive them 
 of nothing which is conducive to their happiness, and not 
 hurtful to their souls. And it is not possible that those who 
 hope for heaven should be indifferent about this matter, or 
 feel otherwise than that to know those we cherish in this life 
 would be a source of inconceivable bliss. With what emo- 
 tions do we look forward to those intervievv-s which we ex- 
 pect to have with our departed when we reach our long- 
 sought rest ! Behold that mother lingering about those little 
 graves ; does not her soul glow and swell with a holy rapture 
 as she looks forward to the period when she shall be ushered 
 into the sanctities of heaven, and recognize and embrace 
 
FUTUllE RECOGNITION. 335 
 
 those to whom she gave existence ? And would it not be a 
 painful reflection were the conviction forced upon the mind 
 of the child, who lost a beloved parent at a period too early 
 in its history to have any recollection of form or feature, that 
 it could never know that parent in heaven ? Is it not much 
 more in conformity with the dictates of reason, and in 
 harmony with our feelings, to believe that we shall know our 
 sainted friends amid the multitude of glorified spirits ? 
 
 Another consideration worthy of notice is, that the inspired 
 writers represent heaven under such emblems as to render 
 the inference of future recognition perfectly legitimate. It is 
 called a kingdom and a commonwealth ; and the inhabitants 
 are spoken of as citizens. "Now are ye no more strangers 
 and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints." As 
 subjects of the same government, and participating in all the 
 immunities and honors of a state, it would seem strange that 
 they should not know each other. Heaven is, moreover, 
 represented under the emblem of a family. God, the father, 
 is at the head of this family. Speaking of those who have 
 entered into reconciliation with heaven, the Apostle says : 
 " For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear j 
 but ye have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, 
 Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our 
 spirit that we are the children of God ; and if children, then 
 heirs ; heirs of God, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ ; if so 
 be that we sufler with hira, that we may also be glorified 
 together." And as this family is composed of all the sancti- 
 fied in heaven and on earth, we could not reject the doctrine 
 
330 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 of recognition without doing violence to all conceptions of, 
 and associations with, the family relation. Members of the 
 same family must surely know each other. 
 
 Another proof of this doctrine may be drawn from the 
 general sentiments of mankind. So far as it is possible to 
 ascertain the views of the ancients on this subject, they all 
 harmonize on this point. It is universally admitted to be 
 true by all those writers who have recorded their opinions. 
 Grecian and Roman poets, who described the invisible or 
 spirit world, uniformly represent their heroes and other 
 characters as recognizing each other when they met. And 
 Milton and Shakspeare give utterance to similar sentiments. 
 It is, therefore, just to infer that a doctrine which is so gener- 
 ally received must be true. And it is only upon the best 
 established evidence to the contrary that we should be willing 
 to reject a sentiment, the truthfulness of which has been held 
 by so many different nations for thousands of years. For it 
 is not probable that a merciful God would allow so many 
 generations, differing so widely on many other subjects, and 
 yet agreeing on this, to be in error for so long a period. 
 And could we now gather the views of the thoughtful and 
 intelligent men of the present generation, they would, doubt- 
 less, be in harmony with the belief of the ancients. The 
 most eminent theologians, in the different periods of the 
 church's history, have left us their testimony in favor of 
 future recognition. These opinions might easily be advanced 
 here ; but as there is so little, if any, difference in the 
 manner in which they have expressed themselves, it may be 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 337 
 
 sufficient to state that Luther, Calvm, Melancthon, and so 
 fcir as we know, all the Reformers fully believed that we shall 
 know each other in heaven. 
 
 But it is possible to plant this doctrine upon a still firmer 
 basis, by a direct appeal to Scripture. In the parable of the 
 rich man and Lazarus, we have the sanction of the Lord 
 Jesus to this doctrine. That thrilling history, or parable, was 
 drawn by one to whom all things were known, and who 
 never spoke at random. The spiritual world with all its 
 mysteries was laid open to Him, and He was cognizant of 
 every thing which transpired in the invisible state, so that He 
 could speak with accuracy on any subject which He might 
 wish to unfold to the minds of his hearers. We are distinctly 
 told that there was a recognition of Abraham and Lazarus 
 on the part of the rich man. " He lifted up his eyes, being 
 in torment, and saw Abraham afar off and Lazarus in his 
 bosom." In whatever light we regard that portion of scrip- 
 ture, it manifestly carries with it the Divine sanction of this 
 doctrine. And not only did he know Lazarus, who once 
 lay neglected at his gate, but he begs that one of the dead 
 might be sent to w^arn his five brethren, that they might not 
 come to the same place of torment ; and if the departed did 
 not know each other, why should he have dreaded the 
 presence of his brethren, who might reproach him for his 
 impiety and his influence upon them, for it cannot be sup- 
 posed that in hell there is any natural atTection. And if it 
 was possible for the rich man to know Lazarus and Abraham, 
 must it not be so with all. The Saviour, when he speaks to 
 29 
 
338 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 the Jews of the consequences of their rejection of Him as 
 their Messiah, says, " Ye shall see Abraham and all the 
 prophets in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves shut out." 
 There are also certain statements in the gospel of John, which 
 look to this subject. In those last few chapters, which 01s- 
 hausen calls the Holy of Holies, in the gospel history, we find 
 the Redeemer unfolding the deeper mysteries of religion, and 
 lifting the veil which hides the invisible world, so as to afford 
 believers glimpses of their exalted and glorified state. He 
 speaks particularly and affectionately of the relation that He 
 sustains to the Father, and the Father to Him, and the union 
 which exists betv»-een himself and his disciples. " Yet a little 
 while and the world seeth me no more ; but ye shall see me, 
 because I live ye shall live also." " Father, I Avill that those 
 whom thou hast given me may be with me, that where I am 
 they may be also and behold my glory." In these utterances 
 of our Lord, He encourages the belief that the most intimate 
 social relations wnll exist between Him and His saints. And 
 when He appeared to His disciples immediately after His 
 resurrection from the dead, they knew him. And there can 
 be no doubt as to the views of the apostles on this subject. 
 Paul writing to the Thessalonians, says, " What is our hope, 
 our joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the 
 presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his corning ? For ye are 
 our glory and joy." The apostle, here, evidently means that 
 he shall know those at the judgment of Christ, who were 
 converted to Christianity through his instrumentality. And 
 not only would he know them in the last great day, but he 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 839 
 
 would rejoice over them, as persons saved from the guilt and 
 condemnation of sin through his labors. 
 
 The apostle John, in the Apocalypse, holds out the same 
 idea. In his visions are represented those who had passed 
 through fiery persecutions and the tribulations of martyrdom, 
 and stood before the throne of God. " After this I beheUl, 
 and lo! a great multitude which no man could number, of all 
 nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before 
 the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes and 
 palms in their hands ; And cried with a loud voice, saying, 
 Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
 the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, 
 and about the elders, and the four beasts, and fell before the 
 throne on their faces, and worshipped God, Saying, Amen: 
 Blessing, and glory, and honor, and wisdom, and thanks- 
 giving, and power, and might, be unto our God forever and 
 ever. Amen." 
 
 Here the apostle saw those multitudes who had reached, or 
 should reach, heaven ; and still bearing those peculiarities 
 which enabled him to distinguish between the different nations 
 who were represented before the throne of God. And not only 
 is that distinction retained by the kindreds and tongues, but 
 their appearance must have been different from that of the 
 angels, or else he could not have spoken of the latter as a 
 distinct class. Now if all personal and national identity be 
 destroyed, and all those marks obliterated whereby we know 
 one person and one nation from another on earth, the 
 moment the redeemed enter their future home, how could 
 
340 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 the apostle have known that that multitude was composed of 
 the various kindreds and tongues of earth? And if the 
 glorified saints do not lose their national identity, is not the 
 inference a legitimate one, that they will also retain their 
 personal identity? And would not the loss of those various 
 aspects of human form and appearance which are peculiar to 
 individuals on earth, and the throwing the society of heaven 
 into one uniform mass, divest that abode of that order and 
 beauty which the scriptures ascribe to the heavenly world ? 
 It would do violence to all our feelings and hopes, while the 
 rejection of the doctrine would strip our future home of some 
 of its brightest attractions, and fill us with regrets at least all 
 through our earthly pilgrimage. 
 
 But it appears, also, from some intimations of Scripture, 
 that angels know each other. Gabriel, when assigning a 
 reason for the delay occasioned on his mission to the prophet, 
 ascribes it to certain hindrances which he experienced on his 
 way. " Fear not, Daniel," he says, " for from the first day 
 thou didst set thyself to understand and to chasten thyself 
 before God, thy w^ords were heard, and I am come for thy 
 words. But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood 
 me one and twenty days ; but lo ! Michael, one of the chief 
 princes, came to help me." From this it would appear that 
 angels know each other ; and if so, may we not safely con- 
 clude that a like privilege awaits the children of God ? 
 
 But we have still more positive grounds upon which to 
 base our argument. We are assured by the Evangelist who 
 describes the transfiguration of Christ on Mount Herraon, 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 341 
 
 " that Moses and Elias were present, and communed with 
 Jesus concerning the work of redemption whicli was 
 approaching its completion." And while the disciples were 
 overwhelmed with the resplendent glory which shone upon 
 that Mount, Peter exclaimed, " Lord, it is good for us to be 
 here. Let us build three tabernacles ; one for thee, one for 
 Moses, and one for Elias." From this language it appears 
 that the disciples knew Moses and Elias, although they had 
 never seen them on earth. And does not the fact afford 
 indubitable proof that saints shall know each other intuitively.'' 
 The presumption is certainly very strong, that if Peter, James, 
 and John, knew the great lawgiver of the Jews, and him who 
 stood at the head of the prophetic school, though they had 
 lived some thousand years before, and now appeared in their 
 glorified natures, that the saints will immediately recognize 
 each other upon their entrance into heaven. We might 
 adduce additional inferential proof from Scripture in support 
 of future recognition, but perhaps none which bears more 
 pointedly upon the doctrine ; and we think that this is 
 amply sufficient to establish the fact, if we do not demand 
 demonstrative proof where moral certainty is all that ought 
 to be expected. 
 
 But there is yet another source from which we may obtain 
 some light on this subject. I mean the declarations of 
 departing souls. Many incidents might be adduced, which 
 ought to confirm us in the belief that we shall know each 
 other in the spirit- world. It may be alleged, however, that 
 the mind is in a wild and delirious state for hours previous, 
 29* 
 
342 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 as well as during the dissolution of soul and body; and that 
 those forms which the dying profess to see are nothing more 
 than images of beauty, which are the offspring of an excited 
 imagination, and therefore prove nothing; But while we are 
 prepared to admit the force of this assertion in some instances, 
 it would be unjust to ascribe all such manifestations or visions 
 of the departing to the same cause. Where there is no 
 undue excitement of the brain, and no extraordinary nervous 
 sensibility, but where the conversation and appearance of the 
 individual are collected and cool, and where to the very last 
 moment all the indications assure us that reason is neither 
 clouded nor driven from its throne, we are bound to exercise 
 some confidence in the truth of their dying declarations. 
 Take, for example, the martyr Stephen. He was in perfect 
 health, and, therefore, free from the exhilarating influence of 
 disease or medicine ; " but he, being filled with the Holy 
 Ghost, looked steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of 
 God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God." He 
 could not have been mistaken about what he saw, for he was 
 speaking under the influence of inspiration, and, therefore, 
 could not err. Beside this case from Scripture history, we 
 mio-ht adduce others where the dying spoke of the presence 
 of angels and sainted friends. I have heard with my own 
 ears many glorious declarations from dying Christians of 
 what they felt and saw. A beloved sister, when passing into 
 the valley of the shadow of death, commenced uttering what 
 she felt, and describing what she saw, until the glory of the 
 invisible world seemed so fully present to her soul, that she was 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 343 
 
 overwhelniL'd and lost in wonder, and said, " ! I cannot 
 tell you all ; but you will see it !" and as the words " beauti- 
 ful, beautiful," trembled on her lips, she expired. Another 
 whom I attended in his last hours, but who was a wicked 
 man, carried on a rapid and protracted conversation with 
 what seemed to be evil spirits, until suddenly stopping, he 
 said distinctly," We will now adjourn until one o'clock, and 
 then we will rally all our forces against the great throne ;" 
 and precisely at the designated hour he breathed his last. 
 
 But a highly interesting case is mentioned by a gentleman 
 in one of our religious papers, which is yet more to the 
 point. "A little girl," he writes, "in a family of my 
 acquaintance, a lovely and precious child, lost her mother at 
 an age too early to fix the loved features in her remembrance. 
 She was as frail as beautiful ; and as the bud of her heart 
 unfolded, it seemed as if, won by that mother's prayers, to 
 turn instinctively heavenward. She was the idol of the 
 family ; but she faded away early. She would lie upon the 
 lap of the friend who bestowed a mother's care upon her, 
 and winding one wasted arm about her neck, would say, 
 'Now tell me about my mamma.' And when the oft- 
 repeated tale was told, she would say softly, ' Take me into 
 the parlor, I want to see my mamma.' The request was 
 never refused, and the affectionate child would lie for hours 
 contentedly gazing on her mother's portrait. But — 
 
 "Pale and wan she grew, and weakly, 
 Beai-ing all her pains so meekly, 
 That to them she still grew dearer, 
 As the trial-hour drew nearer." 
 
344 FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 "That hour came at last, and the weeping friends assembled 
 to see the little child die. The dew of death was already on 
 the flower as its life's sun was going down. The little chest 
 heaved spasmodically. ' Do you know me, darling ? ' 
 sobbed the voice that was dearest ; but it awoke no answer. 
 All at once a brightness, as if from the upper world, burst 
 over the child's colorless features. The eyelids flashed 
 open, the lips parted, the wan, cuddling hands flew in the 
 little one's last impulsive effort, as she looked piercingly into 
 the far-above. 'Mother!' she cried with surprise and tran- 
 sport, and past with that breath to her mother's bosom." 
 Who that has witnessed such instances can, for a moment, 
 doubt the doctrine of future recognition. 
 
 Other instances might be cited, but I will rest this doctrine 
 upon the testimony of each one's consciousness. Out of the 
 holy depths of our nature we may hear a voice say to us, 
 ^^we shall know each other in heaven." God has given 
 certain voices to our spiritual being ; and whenever these are 
 heard in favor of any subject which is clothed with an air of 
 mystery or obscurity, we have reason to believe that the 
 utterances are true. The yearnings of our nature, and the 
 perfection of our happiness, assuredly require a recognition 
 of those whom we loved on earth, and in whom were our 
 richest springs of earthly joy. Blessed be God that we have 
 ground to believe and reason to hope that we shall see oui 
 sainted friends, and know them "even as we are known." 
 And what an influence should this doctrine exert upon the 
 mind of the Christian? It should inspire him with a holy 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 345 
 
 watchfulness over his own heart, that he may not come short 
 of that " rest which remaineth to the people of God." 
 
 It is a sore trial to endure a separation for a few years ; but 
 who could endure the thought of being eternally exiled from 
 their home in heaven ? The prospect of reunion with his 
 beloved, should constrain him to " lay aside every weight and 
 the sin which doth so easily beset him, and to run with patience 
 and diligence the race that is set before him." And ! what 
 a motive he has to labor for the salvation of his children, 
 brothers, sisters, wife, or other dear friends with whom he 
 would walk by the river of life. Christian parent, have you 
 ever felt that your child might be losf) Do you see how the 
 temptations are multiplying around it, and that there is a 
 growing inclination to give way to their urgency .'' Do you 
 see the silken threads of pride, and the golden cords of plea- 
 sure, binding its immortal spirit to the dust? 0! fortify its 
 heart against those temptations ; hasten to cut those cords 
 before they become powerful as the folds of the monster. 
 Turn the eyes of those you love, away from these fading 
 glories, to that bright inheritance at God's right hand. Turn 
 their aspirations to a crown of glory and a garland of life, and 
 teach them that the highest honor within reach of mortals, is to 
 be a son or a daughter of the Lord Almighty. Beg them to 
 become reconciled to God now. Speak to them of the horrors 
 of a final separation, and the joys of eternal union. And 
 carry with you to the closet the weight of their souls' salvation, 
 that your utterances and cries may rise bathed with atoning 
 blood to the ears of the eternal God, that the arm of Jehovah 
 
346 ~ FUTURE RECOGNITION. 
 
 may awake to their deliverance from sin. Or if all are 
 adopted into God's family, or have already gone to rest, suffer 
 the delightful assurance that you shall know and love them 
 in heaven, to reconcile you to this temporary separation which 
 death induces. But if unconverted and without hope, should 
 not this prospect at once lead you to the Saviour's feet, that 
 you may be washed and sanctified ? O ! what motives are 
 addressed to you from yonder world, if you are impenitent! 
 Perhaps a beloved child bends from these seats of glory with 
 beseeching looks, and would constrain you to turn to God ! 
 A dear departed mother may yearn over you with all her 
 maternal affection! A father, a husband, a wife, a brother, 
 or sister, or friend — ay, perhaps all these, are calling down 
 to you, now, to close in with the overtures of mercy. But I 
 will not attempt to urge their pleas ; I will pray God that He 
 may plead his own cause and theirs with you. And ! that 
 they may descend in the persuasive influences of the Holy 
 Spirit, and carry your affections to the skies. And then with 
 the Christian you can look forward with joy to that hour 
 when you shall join the ransomed host above. And who can 
 picture that rapture which will thrill the bosoms of the glori- 
 fied throng, as they are joined in everlasting bonds of love. 
 To those hills of life we often look, and over those plains of 
 light and glory does the eye of our faith fondly wander, for 
 there are those whom a mysterious but wise Providence has 
 removed from our fold. And to those heights of glory where 
 the redeemed now rejoice does our hope carry us, and there 
 do we expect one day to hear all the voices which once 
 
FUTURE RECOGNITION. 347 
 
 charmed us on earth, mingling with cur's in the great anthem 
 of redemption that shall rise and swell and roll in lofty gran- 
 deur around the throne of Jehovah forever and ever. 
 
 " I count the hope no day-dream of the mind, 
 No vision fair of transitory hue ; 
 The souls of those whom once on earth we knew, 
 And loved, and walked with in communion kind, 
 Departed hence, again in heaven to find. 
 Such hope to Nature's sympathies is true ; 
 And such we deem, the Holy Word to view 
 Unfolds ; an antidote for grief designed ; 
 One drop from comfort's well. 
 Nor shall we find 
 
 More joy from aught in that celestial seat, 
 Save from God's presence, than again to greet 
 Each other's spirits, there to dwell combined 
 In brotherhood of love." 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. 
 
 THE SYMPATHY OP JESUS WITH AFFLICTED AND 
 BEREAVED SOULS. 
 
 " Like the sweet melody ■which faintly lingers 
 Upon the wind-harp's strings at close of day, 
 "When gently touch'd by evening's dewy fingers, 
 It breathes a low and melancholy lay ; 
 So the calm voice of sympathy me seemeth ; 
 And while its magic spell is round me cast, 
 My spirit in its cloister'd silence dreameth, 
 And vaguely blends the future with the past." 
 
 Humanity may justly boast of its sympathy as an excellent 
 grace and a priceless jewel. It is that fountain in our nature 
 whose streams gladden, refresh, and beautify life. Cheerless, 
 indeed, would be our existence, were we doomed to spend 
 it among beings who had no fellow-feeling for us ; for it is 
 the blending of hearts and the mingling of spirits, that create 
 and sustain social happiness. It is even painful, occasionally, 
 to meet with one whose sympathies are chilled by a heartless 
 selfishness — a man who feels not, and cares not for his com- 
 panions in the race of life. For such an one moves within 
 the narrow circle which self-love forms, and never passes 
 beyond that circumscribed sphere to drop a tear upon some 
 desolate hearth, or to utter a word of hope to a desponding 
 
 (348) 
 
SYMPATHY OF JESUS, ETC. 349 
 
 or heart-broken fellow creature. The sympathies of others 
 may distil, like gently descending dews, upon spirits made 
 weary ; and weep with those that weep, and rejoice with 
 those who rejoice; but he who remains unaffected, like a 
 mountain of ice, chills the atmosphere around him. He 
 labors and traffics, and schemes and accumulates ; but only 
 for himself. He is an object of pity, because destitute of 
 those sensibilities and generous impulses which belong to our 
 nature, and he is only a man in the outward form. We 
 regard him with the same feelings with which we look upon 
 a tree scathed and blighted by the lightnings of heaven, 
 without leaves or fruit, and even incapable of casting a 
 refreshing shadow. We all need sympathy, and should, 
 therefore, bestow it upon others. And who has not felt its 
 strange power to lighten the burdens of life, and to extract 
 the sting from disease, and the bitterness from sorrow. The 
 help of man may be vain ; but the sympathy of friends is 
 precious. You behold a fellow-traveler oppressed with a 
 load, in his estimation too heavy to be borne, and he sinks 
 exhausted and faint to the earth ; but a word of encourage- 
 ment from you will impart new energy to the weary pilgrim, 
 and even a look may inspire him with fortitude to toil on in 
 hope. And this may be done without subjecting yourself to 
 any inconvenience ; certainly without loss, and always with 
 great gain, forasmuch as every act of kindness exerts a recip- 
 rocal force upon the agent, and leaves its heavenly impress 
 upon him, while it adds a fresh gem to his character. And 
 the consciousness of having dispelled gloom, or diminished 
 30 
 
850 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 the woes which were brooding over the spirit of a fellow 
 being, is a rich compensation to those who delight in doing 
 good. To administer comfort to the children of sorrow, and 
 to utter bright words into the ears of mourners, is like open- 
 ing a crevice and letting sun-light into the gloomy dungeon 
 where prisoners of misfortune are pining away. The prison- 
 ers of Providence are often in darkness ; their faith is feeble, 
 and they need to be assured that when all within is dark, the 
 Sun of righteousness still shines, and that they need but look, 
 and they will behold the healing beams streaming through 
 their clouds of calamity ; and that although they despair 
 because of the weakness of their confidence in the Divine 
 promises, they will gather strength from the assurance that 
 Jesus is an Almighty Saviour, that when they are weak. 
 He is strong, and that, therefore, the foundation of their hopes 
 rem.ains unshaken by that storm which has agitated and over- 
 whelmed their souls. Those who in seasons of trial have 
 shared in the sympathies of others, know how precious it is 
 to have the bleeding heart bound up by gentle hands, and 
 the anguished bosom soothed by those who know from expe- 
 rience what it is to pass through the deep waters of affliction. 
 The sympathy of such, is like oil to a painful wound. 
 
 " If there be one that o'er thy dead, 
 Hath in thy grief borne part ; 
 And Avatch'd through sickness by thy bed, 
 ^ Call this a kindred heart." 
 
 But after all has been done for us which sympathising 
 friends are capable of accomplishing, they may still leave the 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 351 
 
 wound iinmollified and the heart unhealed ; for although they 
 may comfort, they cannot effectually heal. And one design 
 which a merciful Father has in sending us bereavements, un- 
 questionably, is to convince us that we need a Divine helper. 
 I had once planted a few vines, and hard by them erected a 
 substantial frame-work upon which they might find a support 
 in the storm ; but they clung to each other, and after rising 
 a little distance from the earth, they fell to the ground and 
 their growth was dwarfish and their fruit rotted, and I said 
 to my beloved, Here let us learn a lesson. These vines are 
 a. picture of ourselves. We foolishly and fondly cling to 
 each other, our affections fasten their tendrils upon beings as 
 frail and destitute of strength as ourselves, and when calami- 
 ties befall us, we sink together in our weakness ; whereas, if 
 we lay hold upon the Rock of our strength, and send our 
 affections on the wings of ardent prayer and fahh to the 
 bosom of God, they will twine their tendrils around the 
 eternal throne, and we shall stand to show forth His praise, 
 when the universe falls. If we have erred in placing too 
 much dependence upon an arm of flesh, God may have 
 withered that arm, that we might lay hold upon His. The 
 Lord often dries up the fountains of earthly comfort, that we 
 may fly to the streams of living water. He takes away friends, 
 that He may cause us to seek the friendship of Him " who 
 sticketh closer than a brother." Jesus only is able to afford 
 us grace and strength to bear the trials He appoints for us. 
 And blessed be God; He never withholds His consolations 
 from the sorrowful who seek them ; nor does He deny shelter 
 
352 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 to the distressed who fly to His bosom for refuge. And what 
 is still more important, He possesses infinite resources, and 
 is, therefore, amply qualified to furnish an antidote for all 
 distresses ; and where they cannot be removed, He overrules 
 them for His glory and our good. He, at whose word as it 
 rang through chaos, the universe sprang bright-robed and 
 glowing into existence, can call forth light and joy in the 
 darkly desolate heart. He who caused the morning stars to 
 sing, can wake up songs in the night of our affliction. For 
 He need but speak, and it is done ; and whether we can or 
 cannot always see the hidden energy which controls the 
 tempest, w^e know who has commanded our peace when 
 our troubled breasts find repose. 
 
 The sympathy of Jesus is one of the most pleasing 
 attributes of His character. There is much in the person and 
 life of our adorable Redeemer which mankind must always 
 admire. Indeed, every thing which pertains to His human- 
 ity and Divinity is possessed of a loftiness and grandeur 
 which inspires admiration. He is unlike man even in His 
 human feelings and actions ; or rather, we behold in Him 
 humanity sinless and godlike. Viewed as an individual in 
 contrast with other distinguished characters, He stands out in 
 lonely grandeur, as the Alps among the little hills, or the sun 
 in the firmament of stars — massive, spotless, and sublime in 
 all His aspects. Like the towering mountain upon which the 
 storms of centuries have spent their energies. He stands un- 
 shaken, and sends the healthful influences of immortal life 
 over our afflicted world. I have stood on the spot where the 
 
. WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 353 
 
 gifted orator swayed with his eloquence the listening multi- 
 tude as the leaf-burdened branches of the forest are swayed 
 by the winds of heaven, I have communed with many of the 
 distinguished living, and with more of the illustrious dead, 
 but when I follow Jesus Christ on His journey, and visit in 
 thought the places where He taught, and labored, and 
 suffered, and died, I am conscious of the presence of an 
 awe-inspiring majesty which I experience nowhere else. In 
 no society, and in no place, do I feel as I do in His presence. 
 There is none like Jesus. For I see in Him a wisdom un- 
 fathomable, and a power illimitable ; I behold in Him a 
 beauty more radiant than that of the flowery landscape, a 
 love broader than the earth, a glory more dazzling than the 
 glowing heavens, and a sympathy wide and durable as 
 eternity. And while some of His attributes, such as omnipo- 
 tence, omniscience, and justice, breathe a deep solemnity 
 over my soul and fill me with awe. His sympathy draws as 
 with gentle chords, and makes me bold to tell Him those 
 secret sorrows which I dare not utter in the ears of mortals. 
 And if there be none who can be aflfected with the story of 
 our woes, "He can be touched with the feelings of our 
 infirmities, having been tempted in all points like as we are." 
 "He is the man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." 
 One of the objects of His incarnation, doubtless, was, that 
 He might become familiar with all that human nature can 
 endure. And having himself been oppressed, and afHicted, 
 and stricken, and smitten, He is able to succor those who are 
 tried. Having endured a hotter furnace than He allows any 
 30* 
 
354 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 of His children to enter, He knows full well the degree of 
 heat which is adequate to the removal of the dross from the 
 gold ; and beyond that point His goodness will not suffer the 
 fire to prevail. No language could so fitly describe His 
 humiliation and destitution as His own. "Foxes have 
 holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of man 
 hath not where to lay his head." When the beasts of the 
 forest are hunted and pursued, they can fly to their rocky 
 dens and repose in safety ; when the heavens grow dark 
 and the storm howds, the fowds of the air fly to their little 
 homes and are sheltered ; but 0, amazing thought ! the Lord 
 of the universe, whose providence throws its sheltering 
 wings over all these creatures. Himself stood as a rock in 
 mid-ocean, while all the storms of affliction to which man is 
 heir, mingled with the billows of Divine wrath, were break- 
 ing over His innocent head. And why did He consent to 
 such a distressing humiliation? Why did He, the adorable 
 One, move through the deep valleys of earth, and not choose 
 its high places as the field of His labors, and as the sphere 
 of His beneficence ? He had an object in view, and it was 
 this : that however humble, neglected, and tried might be the 
 lot of His children. His sympathies might reach them. He 
 descended to the lowest depth of suffering that His people 
 might feel assured that while the Redeemer's sympathy 
 and love fill the highest heights of heaven, they also extend 
 their influence to the deepest depths of earth. And now 
 there are none so far down in sorrow and distress but He is 
 cognizant of their feelings ; and the heart which pulsates 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 355 
 
 upon the throne of universal domhiion thrills in sympathy 
 with their sufferings. Earth has no vales resounding with 
 notes of anguish and cries of lamentation from those who 
 are threading their way through streams of affliction, where 
 the voice of Jesus may not also be heard, saying, "When 
 thou goest through the waters I will be with thee, and 
 through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." 
 
 We may enjoy the society and counsel of sympathizing 
 friends ; but beyond a certain extent their efforts to relieve 
 are powerless ; but the sympathy of Jesus is joined with a 
 power which reaches the farthest wo, and relieves in every 
 time of need. In illustration of this point, let us turn for 
 a moment to the history of our Saviour's life. Behold Hira 
 one morning as in haste He leaves Capernaum with His 
 disciples. He presses forward toward Nain without pausing 
 a moment by the cool brook to take a refreshing draught, or 
 turning into the grove by the wayside to find shelter in its 
 grateful shade from a hot summer's sun. He is on an errand 
 of mercy. The distress of a widowed mother was present 
 to His omniscience and awakened His compassion, and He 
 hastens to the town where she lived, that He may restore her 
 lost treasure. About midday he reaches the city, and is met 
 at the gate by the funeral cortege. When He saw the infirm 
 and broken mourner following her only son to the grave, His 
 sympathies were kindled, and He said to her, " Weep not." 
 " And he touched the bier, and they that bore him stood still. 
 And He said, Young man, I say unto thee, arise. And he 
 that was dead sat up and began to speak. And He delivered 
 
856 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 him to his mother." Here was an exceedingly touching and 
 beautiful instance of His sympathy with the bereaved. A 
 lonely widow, who was deprived of her only stay and 
 support, excited our Lord's compassion, and He exerts His 
 omnipotence to bring her relief. He recalled life into that 
 inanimate form, and again there was a warm heart to love 
 her and to cheer her solitude ; again there were hands to 
 procure her bread, and once more there were lips to pro- 
 nounce that rapturous w^ord, mother. 
 
 A father comes to our Lord and cries, " My daughter is 
 even now dead, but come and lay thy hand upon her, and 
 she shall live." Although he is not of the house of Israel, 
 Christ does not repel the suppliant, but accompanies the 
 ruler to the chamber of death, and there recalls her to life. 
 Ah, who can estimate the preciousness of the Saviour's 
 sympathy to this ruler ? As he was a man in authority, he, 
 doubtless, had other friends who pitied him, and who 
 mingled their tears with his ; but the sympathy of Jesus was 
 associated with a power through which this man was again 
 put in possession of his child. 
 
 But the most affecting incident of this description con- 
 nected with the history of Jesus is the exhibition of His 
 tenderness at the raising of Lazarus. The family of Bethany 
 largely shared the friendship of the Saviour. Two sisters 
 and one brother composed that family " whom Jesus loved." 
 On one occasion, during His absence from the hospitable 
 house of these friends, sickness came, and Lazarus was 
 prostrated upon a bed of affliction. With fearful hearts did 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 357 
 
 those fond sisters watch around the bed of their beloved 
 brother, and carefully did they note every stage which the 
 disease might assume. Now hope would illumine their 
 coimtenances, as his eye brightened and his fever slightly 
 abated ; then again, as the symptoms became unfavorable 
 would fear cast its shadow upon their brow. O, how 
 anxiously did they long for the Saviour's return. They had 
 despatched a messenger for Him, and sufficient time had 
 elapsed for Him to reach their abode, but the Lord has 
 not yet come, and the brother grows worse. Often did 
 they look out in the direction from which they expected Him 
 to come, but there was no indication of His approach, and 
 again they returned to the bedside, weeping in all the bitter- 
 ness of their hearts. The first day has passed, and another, 
 and still another, and yet are the watchers alone. Slowly 
 yet rapidly does the time roll on ; and as the midnight hour, 
 which so often marks the crisis of disease, comes, it brings no 
 hope ; nay, it increases their alarm, for he was manifestly 
 sinking. Another hour is passed, and the struggles of nature 
 with disease are feebler ; his tongue ceases to articulate 
 responses to their affectionate inquiries, and his eyes grow 
 dim, so that he can no longer see Martha and Mary. Gently 
 he sinks until the dawn of day; and just when the orb of 
 heaven bathed the hills of Palestine with his golden light, 
 the sun of Lazarus set in death. And now those sisters are 
 overwhelmed with sorrow, why does the Master not even come 
 to comfort them in their distress ? But these sisters did not 
 bear their grief alone. Beyond Jordan there was a heajt 
 
358 ~ SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 which shared their woes, for Jesvis said to His disciples, 
 " Lazarus is dead, let us go to him." They came, but not 
 to be present at his burial ; neither did Mary and Martha 
 know when the Lord would come. Their brother was laid 
 in the sepulchre, and they sat down in sackcloth to lament 
 the dead. After the lapse of four days it was announced 
 that the Master had come ; and when Mary had approached 
 into His presence she fell down at His feet, saying, " Lord, if 
 thou hadst been here my brother had not died. When Jesus, 
 therefore, saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which 
 came with her, He groaned in spirit and was troubled, and 
 said, Where have ye laid him." 
 
 " Then the Jews who came 
 Following Mary answered through their tears, 
 
 " Lord, come and see !" But lo ! the mighty heart 
 That in Gethsemane sweat drops of blood, 
 Taking for us the cup that might not pass ; 
 The heart whose breaking cord upon the cross 
 Made the earth tremble, and the sun afraid 
 To look upon his agony — the heart 
 Of a lost world's Redeemer — overflowed, 
 Touched by a mourner's sorrow ! Jesus wept." 
 
 W^hat a sublime lesson do those tears teach the children 
 of sorrow! I have seen the parched earth, when it seemed 
 crying to the passing clouds to descend in refreshing showers ; 
 and I have looked out upon the face of nature after those 
 dark chariots of heaven had wept themselves empty upon the 
 thirsty plain, and the whole earth looked up reflecting from 
 her tears her grateful smiles back to Him who " prepareth the 
 rain." And so have I seen desolate and weary souls con- 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 359 
 
 suming and wasting away under the slow fires of grief, until 
 the dews of a Saviour's sympathy descended upon them and 
 clothed them with the graces of submission and resignation, 
 and in whispers such as angels utter, I heard these comforted 
 souls breathe the words of Gethsemane — "Nevertheless not 
 my will, but thine, be done." 
 
 And how often like those two sisters in their grief, do 
 Christians feel as though they sorrowed alone, that the Master 
 does not pity ! But they knew not that the stroke which 
 smote Lazarus with death, was felt by Him beyond Jordan ; 
 and so, also, when the cords which bind us to loved ones 
 break, their vibrations are heard in heaven, and the weight 
 of that blow which prostrates a disciple to the earth and sends 
 anguish to our bosoms, is also felt in the heart of Him who is 
 seated on the throne of universal empire. And it could not 
 be otherwise, for the head must feel when a member of the 
 body suffers. He is the vine, we are the branches, and no 
 affliction can befall the branch, without a draught upon the 
 sympathy of the parent stem. This is what the apostle means 
 by His being "touched with the feeling of our infirmities. 
 And this is what we need in this suffering world ; an assu- 
 rance of His interest in our trials. For if we are united to 
 the Lord Jesus by a living faith, our burdens are partly borne 
 by Him. As He once addressed the multitude who were 
 groaning under bodily and spiritual burdens, so does He still 
 invite the suffering — " Come unto me, all ye that labor and 
 are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Rest from guilt 
 and sin ; rest from all your grief and anguish. Among all 
 
360 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 the examples recorded in Scripture for our encouragement 
 under affliction, there is not one that has not left its testi- 
 mony of the gracious aid and unfailing support which the 
 Lord grants his children in their day of trial. When Job 
 was visited with the most distressing calamities, and suddenly 
 deprived of his property, his children, and his health, he 
 could still bless God. And although he did pass through a 
 fiery ordeal, God so overruled his afflictions that they issued 
 in an increase and enlargement of temporal and spiritual 
 blessings. 
 
 We have a beautiful exhibition of the sympathy of Jesus, 
 in those charming discourses which He addressed to His 
 disciples, shortly before His crucifixion. When He saw the 
 effect which the announcement of His suffering and separa- 
 tion from them had produced, He strove to comfort them, 
 and to dispel their sadness by words of hope. " Let not 
 your hearts be troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in 
 me. In ray father's house are many mansions ; if it were not 
 so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." 
 He was not insensible to their sorrows, and, therefore, con- 
 soles them, and tries to reconcile them to a brief separation 
 by pointing to those glorious mansions on high, where they 
 should enjoy His presence and society forever. And what 
 language of tenderness flowed from His lips when He spoke 
 to those who were afflicted to tears by beholding His suffer- 
 ings! While under the painful pressure of that cross which 
 He was bearing onward to Calvary, He looked around and 
 saw the women w^eeping as they followed ; and unmindful 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 361 
 
 of His own anguish, he kindly said, " Daughters of Jerusalem 
 weep not for me." And in the last hour of His indescribable 
 and excruciating sufferings, His sympathy for His mother 
 was manifested in those memorable words addressed to her 
 and the beloved disciple — " Woman, behold thy son ; son, 
 behol I thy mother." And when His death had fallen with 
 stunning power upon His disciples and friends. He lost no 
 time after He arose, to bring them words of comfort. And 
 first of all, to His mother. When Mary had come to the tomb 
 and found it empty, she turned aside and stood weeping 
 until addressed, as she supposed, by the gardener ; she asked. 
 Where have ye laid Him ? And Jesus said unto her, " Mary." 
 That voice and that word breathed a heaven of glory into her 
 soul, and in an instant she was at His feet. " Jesus saith unto 
 her, Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father; 
 but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my 
 Father and your Father, and to my God and your God." 
 And to the two disciples, who journeyed to Emmaus to 
 relieve their hearts from a painful oppression and gloom, and 
 who were sad as they communed with each other of the 
 strange event which had blighted their hopes. He drew near 
 and joined in their conversation, and unfolded to them the 
 scriptures, until their hearts warmed within them under the 
 gracious revelations which He poured upon their minds ; and 
 at last He made Himself known, in the breaking of bread. 
 Filled with joy, they hasten back to announce the glorious 
 news to the other disciples, and while they were yet speaking, 
 "Jesus stood in their midst, and said, peace be with you." 
 31 
 
362 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 Had the heavens suddenly opened and let down upon them 
 the glory of the upper sanctuary, they could not have been 
 filled with greater joy. Jesus was with them, and it was 
 enough. And ever since that memorable period, there has 
 been no chamber of sorrow where His followers wept ; but 
 Jesus appeared to sympathize and to comfort. Not, indeed, 
 in a visible form ; but by His word and Spirit, and with the 
 energy and power of His grace. Behold that mother who is 
 watching over her last loved one on earth, experiencing all 
 those dreadful pangs which rend a loving heart : when the 
 only remaining earthly cord which binds her to this life is 
 breaking, she looks upon the sufferer and then to the throne 
 of Christ, and in full assurance of faith she cries — ! Jesus, 
 I give him to thee ! And thus bereft of every earthly friend, 
 there is present to her an invisible Comforter, who, as she 
 looks forward with trembling on that journey which she must 
 tread alone, says to her soul — " Lo ! I am with you always, 
 even unto the end." 
 
 That the Redeemer sympathizes with His people in their 
 afflictions and bereavements, and will afford them relief, is 
 further manifest from the multitude of encouraging promises 
 which He has left us. " He will not quench the smoking flax 
 nor break the bruised reed." The prophet Isaiah, the notes 
 of whose prophetic harp were never so eloquent and sublime 
 as when he sang our Saviour's character and mission, 
 exclaims, in one of his descriptions of the God-Man, " And 
 1 man shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert 
 from the tempest, as rivers of water in a dry place, as the 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS, 363 
 
 shadow of a great rock in a weary land." And again he 
 represents Him as commissioned " to bind up tlie broken- 
 hearted, to comfort the mourner, to give beauty for ashes, the 
 oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the 
 spirit of heaviness," 
 
 When David was hunted hke a bird, and found refuge in 
 the cave of Adulara, beyond the reach of his enemies, he 
 still felt the importance of enjoying the sympathy and protec- 
 tion of the Messiah, as he said, " When my heart is over- 
 whelmed within me, I will cry from the ends of the earth, 
 lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." And having been 
 led to that refuge for sinners, he sang, " Thou art ray rock 
 and my fortress, my deliverer, my God, my strength in whom 
 I will trust ; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and 
 my high tower." And during a severe affliction and depres- 
 sion of spirit, he exclaims, " All thy waves and thy billows 
 have (yone over me. Yet the Lord will command his loving: 
 kindness in the day-time, and in the night his song shall be 
 with me, and my prayer unto the God of ray life. Why art 
 thou cast down, my soul.'' And why art thou disquieted 
 in me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him who is 
 the health of my countenance and my God." Amid the 
 discouragements and fierce conflicts to which Luther, the 
 great Reformer, was subjected, his soul always found comfort 
 in singing the forty-sixth Psalm : " God was his refuge and 
 strength, and a very present help in time of trouble. There- 
 fore would not he fear, though the earth were removed, and 
 the mountains were cast into the midst of the ser." However 
 
364 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 weary and faint with the burdens of life, he could drink from 
 those exhaustless streams fed by the river of Divine love 
 which make glad the city of (lod. And thus, also, may- 
 every believer refresh his soul in times of distress. He can 
 go directly to the Saviour for sympathy and aid. He can say, 
 Here, Lord, are Thy promises uttered by Thy Prophets, by 
 Thee, and Thine Apostles. Thou hast told us to cast " our 
 burdens upon thee, that thou raayest sustain us." Thou hast 
 given Thy Gospel that we might have peace. Thou hast said, 
 " in the world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good 
 cheer, I have overcome the world." And Thy servants 
 have exhorted us "to cast all our cares upon ihee." If we 
 urge His own promises with an humble and believing heart, 
 He will answer our prayers in their fulfilment. 
 
 Such was the experience of the primitive disciples, and 
 hence Paul writes to the Corinthians — "For as the suffer- 
 ings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth 
 by Christ." From this declaration we perceive that the 
 sympathy of Jesus is associated with actual consolation, 
 which sustains those who are united with Christ. According 
 to the views of Billroth, Winer, and others, the sorrows 
 endured by Christ repeat themselves in the believer; and 
 hkewise the comfort and the glorification experienced by the 
 Redeemer. And this same apostle still farther magnifies the 
 consolation with which Jesus sustains His followers, when he 
 writes — " We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; 
 we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not 
 forsaken ; cast down, but not destroyed." A multitude of 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 365 
 
 illustrious examples might be cited, to show how cheerfully 
 and triumphantly the Lord carries His people through the 
 most formidable tribulations. When two of His ambassadors 
 were cast into a foul prison, wounded and bruised, such was 
 the sustaining power which He imparted, and such the joy and 
 consolation with which He filled their hearts, that at midnight 
 they made their dungeon resound with songs of praise. 
 Martyrs and confessors who were in sympathy with Jesus, 
 were so mightily strengthened in the inner man, that they 
 could not only bear the flame, but were in raptures while 
 their bodies were consumed by the slow fires of martyrdom. 
 And all that cloud of witnesses, so eloquently described in 
 Hebrews, who also encompass us, still assure us that the 
 love, sympathy, and power of Jesus are all enlisted in the 
 cause of His sufTering people. 
 
 The presence and sympathy of the great Redeemer, there- 
 fore, constitute a rich legacy, to which His followers may at 
 all times lay claim. And the excellence and importance of 
 this legacy it is impossible to estimate. He is our elder 
 brother, and has, therefore, a fellow-feeling for us. And 
 while this sympathy is high as heaven and ample as immen- 
 sity, it also possesses this advantage, that the blessings which 
 flow from it are exhaustless. There are fountains on earth, 
 which send forth copious and clear streams ; but the season 
 of drought comes, and when nature has most need of such 
 supplies, they flow no more. And thus, also, from the sources 
 of earthly pleasure and human comfort, there may issue 
 refreshing waters in time of abundance and health, but all 
 31* 
 
366 SYMPATHY OF JESUS 
 
 these are cut off or exhausted in the hour of bereave- 
 ment and death. It is not so with the sympathy of Jesus ; 
 coming from the infinite and unfathomable depths of His 
 nature, it will flow on when our desolation is greatest — when 
 our souls are " in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is," 
 this stream continues to gladden and refresh our weary spirits. 
 It is not affected by those changes which dry up the springs 
 of temporal enjoyments, only that its blessedness is better 
 appreciated, and its influences are multiplied. It is this 
 sympathy of Jesus which gives us the joy of security and the 
 triumph of victory. It was in view of the conscious union 
 of the believer, with Christ, that the Apostle breaks forth in 
 the language of triumph, as he looked to the cross, the tomb, 
 and the throne of the Redeemer, and exultingly asks, " If 
 God be for us, who (or what) can be against us ? He that 
 spared not His own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how 
 shall he not also with him freely give us all things ? Who is 
 He that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea, rather that 
 is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also 
 maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the 
 love of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, 
 or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? As it is written, 
 for thy sake are we killed all the day long ; we are accounted 
 as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are 
 more than conquerors, through Him that loved us. For 
 I am persuaded that neither life, nor death, nor angels, 
 nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things 
 to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
 
WITH BEREAVED SOULS. 367 
 
 shall be able to separate us from the love of God rhich is in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord." What a grandeur is Lere thrown 
 aiound the Christian! He is elevated above and beyond 
 himself. He triumphs not in himself, but in Christ. All 
 afflictions, and all manner of evils are trodden under his feet. 
 The love and sympathy of Jesus, raise him to the exalted 
 position of a partaker of the Redeemer's glory, so that he can 
 stand by the throne of the great Mediatorial King, and look 
 out upon the universe and claim all the resources of God's 
 dominion for his defence and protection. He can lay hold 
 of the arm of Omnipotence, and draw round about him the 
 energies of Jehovah as his bulwark, and shout in the midst 
 of this impregnable enclosure where no evil can reach him, 
 and where the love of Jesus fills his soul unutterably full of 
 glory. ! ye bereaved, tried, and disconsolate ones, hasten 
 to this refuge ! Come to this sacred and safe retreat ; for 
 here are the green pastures, here is the fountain of living 
 waters flowing fresh, free, full, and glorious, while God cries 
 to a weary world — " Ho ! every one that is athirst, come ye 
 to the waters of life." 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. 
 
 OUR PRESENT AND OUR FUTURE HOME. 
 
 " There is a spot of earth supremely blest, 
 A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, 
 Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside 
 His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride ; 
 While in his softened look benignly blend 
 The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend. 
 Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, 
 Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life ; 
 In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, 
 An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; 
 Around her knees domestic duties meet. 
 And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. 
 Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found 
 Art thou a man ? a patriot ? look around ; 
 0, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, 
 That land thy country, and that spot thy home." 
 
 The word Jiome has a singular charm and an unutterable 
 power. It is a mysterious combination of hidden forces and 
 delightful associations ; so that, whenever it is uttered, our 
 heart-strings vibrate their sweetest melodies. For helpless 
 infancy and enfeebled age, for rich and poor, for the humble 
 and exalted, it has an energy and beauty which no other 
 
 (3G8) 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 369 
 
 word possesses. It brings before the mind the place where 
 human spirits blend most intimately, and where they share 
 each other's joys and woes. Home ! who loves it not ? The 
 exiled prince sighs not more for his palace than the banished 
 peasant for his hut. In whatever clime we journey, whether 
 in the frozen north or sunny south, under the soft sky of Italy 
 or among the mountains of Switzerland, in the populous cities 
 or the dreary desert, almost every object which we behold 
 will wake remembrances which will cause our hearts to turn 
 instinctively to that beloved spot where we have made our 
 abode. And yet, amid all the elevating and joyous influences 
 of our earthly homes, there is a restlessness of spirit which 
 leaves the conviction upon the mind that there is another and 
 a better home. The aspirations of the soul rise above and 
 beyond all earthly associations and institutions. Every thing 
 around us reminds us that we have here no abiding city ; that 
 we are strangers and pilgrims on earth, and must, therefore, 
 occasionally realize that we are destined for a higher sphere. 
 The spirit of man seems, moreover, conscious of its origin, 
 and longs and pants for its home in the skies. It is from 
 the assurances of the Holy Word that heaven will be the 
 Christian's eternal home, that we draw our greatest comfort 
 when we are called to part with friends on earth. Those 
 who fall asleep in Jesus are at once taken to that blessed 
 abode which God has provided for His saints ; and seeing 
 that our present existence is rapidly running to its close, we 
 look forward v,dth joy to that hour when we shall meet our 
 sainted friends in the mansions of our Father's house. And the 
 
370 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. ' 
 
 more we may be able to fix our affections on that blessed 
 abode, the better shall we be able to endure earthly trials and 
 bereavements. Among the primitive Christians death was 
 spoken of as a sleep ; and when one of their number died, 
 it was said he has fallen asleep. When the Moravian 
 brethren announce the death of a friend, they say he has 
 gone home. And does it not take from death its bitterness 
 and terror when it is regarded as a transition into the joys of 
 eternal life ? It assuredly moderates and soothes our grief 
 when we look upon our departing as going home. In view 
 of the quieting and soothing influences which heavenly medi- 
 tations, in connection with other considerations, breathe 
 upon the troubled soul, I feel as though I could not more 
 fittingly close these consolatory lessons than by directing the 
 reader's attention to the Christian's future home. 
 
 That there is such a place as heaven, and that it is the home 
 of the redeemed, is susceptible of the clearest demonstration. 
 Admitting that there is a future state of existence for that 
 mixed multitude of souls which now people the earth, reason 
 would suggest the propriety of a place exclusively con- 
 secrated to the holy. Here they are annoyed and wearied 
 by the corruptions and pollutions of this sinful world, and it 
 is but just that those who faithfully serve God, and wage a 
 continual warfare against sin, should at last find an abode 
 where they shall be secure against its aggressions upon their 
 peace. And the Scriptures so abundantly and clearly affirm 
 that there is a blessed home for the righteous, and a rest for 
 the people of God ; and the yearnings and convictions of all 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 371 
 
 men so fully coincide with the teachings of revelation on this 
 subject ; that an array of elaborate proof would be superflu- 
 ous. Granting, then, that there is no question as to the fact 
 of its existence, the first inquiry which demands our attention 
 is that which relates to the locality of our future home. 
 Where has God established the residence of His people ? 
 Of this we cannot speak with absolute certainty ; yet is the 
 opinion universal that it is above us. It may, however, 
 be said, and that with truth, that such expressions are 
 indefinite, for the obvious reason that that which is above 
 us now will be beneath us twelve hours hence, on account 
 of the earth's motion. But that it lies, however, beyond the 
 starry firmament is justly inferable from the manner in which 
 the Bible speaks of it, and also from the language of our 
 Lord and His apostles. The Word of God speaks of three 
 heavens. First, the atmosphere ; as when Jesus directs 
 attention to the sleepless care of Providence over the fowls 
 of the air, which neither sow nor reap, but are cared for and 
 fed by the hand of God. And also in other places in the 
 Scriptures do we read of " the fowls of heaven," and " cities 
 walled up to heaven ;" in all such phrases nothing more 
 is meant than the air. The second meaning of the term is 
 applied to the firmament, or the "sidereal heavens," 
 " When I consider the heavens the work of thy fingers, the 
 moon and the stars which thou hast ordained." And lastly, 
 we have the imperial heaven, the glorious residence of God 
 and His holy ones ; or, as it is sometimes called, " the third 
 heaven ;" — the place to which Paul was elevated during his 
 
372 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 trance, and where he heard and saw things which it was not 
 lawful to utter. This classification, or division, originated 
 with the Jews ; and hence the different significations of the 
 term, when applied to different objects, were understood by 
 . them. The Apostle, in one of his epistles, says that Jesus 
 ascended above " all heavens ;" and by that he certainly 
 meant, and was doubtless understood to say, that Christ rose 
 beyond the starry firmament to the abode of Deity. And it 
 would also seem to be in harmony with our conceptions of 
 the fitness of things, to suppose, that heaven is the central 
 point of the universe of God. I do not know that we have 
 any clear intimations in Scripture which would justify this 
 supposition ; but it is absolutely certain that there is nothing 
 in the Word of God which stands opposed to this opinion. 
 
 If we are allowed to reason from analogy on a subject like 
 this, we might make out more than a plausible or probable 
 proof. If we examine any thing that is systematically 
 arranged, we shall discover that it contains some controlling 
 principle or power, which governs the entire structure ; so 
 that every system has a central point to which all that forms 
 a part of it tends. It is to the centre of the earth that all 
 things within the range of our atmosphere gravitate. And in 
 like manner, all the planetary systems have their central 
 suns, around which they perform their revolutions. A similar 
 principle is recognized in law, in philosophy, and in religion. 
 The great system of Christianity acknowledges its author as 
 its central and vitalizing power, from whom all its excellence 
 and efficiency proceed. And thus, also, do we observe a 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 373 
 
 like arrangement in those two great moral divisions of intelli- 
 o-ent beino-s in the universe. Each of these two classes has 
 a point of confluence, or a gathering-place of their appropriate 
 elements and influences. Heaven is the point to which all 
 holy beings tend ; the congregating place of the just from all 
 nations, and kindreds, and tongues. And it is just as 
 certain that all who have upon them the insignia of the king- 
 dom of darkness, and are marked by the tokens of perdition, 
 are tending to hell, as the central point of unmixed and un- 
 mitigated evil. And if this is a divinely ordained principle, 
 which controls every where, and whose potency is acknow- 
 ledged in all things; may we not reasonably infer that the 
 same order is observed in those things which lie beyond the 
 range of reason, and are matters of conjecture, or faith ? And 
 if so, is it not a warrantable conclusion, that God, whose 
 controlling energy fills the universe, has chosen the centre of 
 His vast dominions as His own appropriate residence, where 
 He will perpetually reside with all His saints ? The opinion 
 certainly commends itself to our judgment, and also falls in 
 with the gorgeous imagery of Scripture, which throws an 
 ineffable splendor around the abode of the righteous. But 
 if we are left to conjecture, in regard to the particular location 
 of that "house of many mansions," prepared for the re- 
 deemed, we are not left in doubt as to the nature and 
 employments of the place. 
 
 And here I would remark, that we have abundant reason 
 to believe, from the many declarations of Scripture as to the 
 appearance and structure of the place, that it is invested with 
 32 
 
374 PRESENT AND TUTURE HOME. 
 
 a lofty physical grandeur. Admitting that it is a place, and 
 keeping in view the object for which it was provided, and 
 the resources and skill of the Architect of the structure ; we 
 would naturally conceive it to he possessed of exalted ex- 
 cellence. The monarch who wields the sceptre of earthly 
 empire, does not make his largest expenditures upon the 
 improvement of his provinces and cities farthest from the seat 
 of royalty ; on the contrary, the style and structure of his 
 palace, and the adornments of the imperial city, will share 
 more largely in his munificence than any other portions of 
 his dominions. The place where the powers of government 
 reside, and the interests of state are shaped, is generally made 
 attractive, and in most instances honored with higher decora- 
 tions than any other. And is it not our privilege to believe 
 that the home which the Ruler of the universe has fitted up 
 for His children, will be clothed with a more excellent glory 
 than any other part of His dominions? Such an inference is 
 not more natural than we believe it to be just ; for the 
 imagery which Inspiration employs to represent heaven, is 
 always of a glowing character. Our Saviour himself speaks 
 of it under the idea of a vast structure containing many 
 apartments. " In my Father's house are many mansions , 
 if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a 
 place for you." And if He who fashioned the heavens and 
 the earth, has fitted up that abode, will it not correspond with 
 the character of His other works ? And are not all His 
 creations beautiful? There is a beauty in the winged cloud 
 and in the circling wave ! There is a beauty in the setting 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 375 
 
 sun, and in the dawn of day ! Tliere is Ijeauty in tlie warb- 
 ling streamlet and its spotted tribes! There is beauty in the 
 forest, in the field, in the dew-drop, and in the ocean ! Look 
 out upon the earth, and see ! Is it not beautiful, though it 
 rests under the curse ? With what a ravishing glory does it 
 roll forth to our view, clothed in that rich and varied robe 
 which Nature puts on in spring. Behold the mountains and 
 continents, rivers and seas, all are arrayed with a gran- 
 deur that delights and charms the observer. But if the 
 glorious Maker of all things has given so many visible dis- 
 plays of His power and goodness, and clothed with g^ory, 
 the sun, the moon, and the stars, and covered the whole 
 creation with so many visible beauties, may we not rest 
 confidently assured, that the home of His chosen ones is 
 invested with a transcendent glory ? His own presence will 
 make it glorious beyond conception. For while His glory 
 gleams from every star, and shines in every sun, and is sung 
 in every anthem of nature, all the brightness, goodness, and 
 excellence scattered through the universe, are only rays or 
 emanations which have gone out from Him, as the infinite 
 centre of all that is lovely and glorious. 
 
 The physical glory of the place may also be inferred from 
 the names by which it is known. Heaven is called the 
 Paradise of God. The Eden where Adam and Eve dwelt 
 was garnished with a rare excellence. A garden watered by 
 four rivers, adorned with flowers and fountains, and peopled 
 with every object that could excite pleasurable emotions; 
 and yet was it only an emblem of our future homo. The 
 
376 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 apostle John describes the New Jerusalem as a city built of 
 the raost costly materials. " Its foundations were garnished 
 Avith all manner of precious stones, and with walls of jasper." 
 " A city of pure gold, and with gates of solid pearls." 
 " And the glory of the nations was brought into it." "And 
 a river of water clear as crystal flbwing from the throne of 
 God and the Lamb." " And in the midst of the street 
 thereof, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of 
 life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit 
 every month ; and the leaves thereof were for the healing of 
 the nations." " And there shall be no night there ; and they 
 need no candle, neither light of the sun ; for the Lord God 
 giveth them light, and they shall reign forever and ever." 
 And thus, also, in all the other inspired books where heaven 
 is spoken of, do we find it represented under the most bril- 
 liant emblems. The material creation is laid under contribu- 
 tion for images descriptive of the physical grandeur of that 
 blessed abode. And who can doubt that the most sublime 
 and gorgeous figures will fall short of the reality? Nay, its 
 blessedness and glory will far transcend even the high- 
 wrought imagery of Inspiration. For however well-conceived 
 and graphic any representation of it may be, the figure is 
 but a shadow, and can never rise to a full conception 
 of the object which it is designed to image. Could the 
 pencil of Raphael have transferred the living grandeur of 
 Niagara upon the canvass ? Can any artist paint an evening 
 sunset with its appropriate gorgeousness and the mellowing 
 beauty of its vanishing glories ? And if not, why should it 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 377 
 
 appear marvellous that the glowing descriptions of heaven 
 cannot adequately or fully acquaint us with its actual perfec- 
 tions. The skill and resources of Jehovah have been laid 
 out upon it. Man has constructed elegant palaces, and 
 wrought many attractive things ; but God did not commit the 
 preparation of that mansion to man nor angels, but His own 
 hand has fashioned it ; and, therefore, it is doubtless true 
 even of the physical excellencies of the home of the pure 
 that " eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard ; neither hath it 
 entered into the heart of man to conceive what God hath laid 
 up for those who love him." 
 
 But the future home of Christians is also possessed of a 
 moral glory. It is an abode of spotless purity. " Nothing 
 that defileth can enter within those gates." This holiness 
 of heaven is represented under the image of light. -Light is 
 the only material substance that is altogether pure. Gold is 
 not perfectly free from impurities ; and the gems which 
 sparkle in the imperial crown are not as pure as the sunbeams 
 which they reflect. Light may pass through an impure 
 medium, and fall upon the stagnant and foul pool without 
 being tarnished. And since it is not only perfectly pure, but 
 warms and illumines the world, it is used as an image of 
 piety and holiness. The most sublime passage, perhaps, 
 in Milton, is his apostrophe to light : — 
 
 " Hail, holy Light ! Offspring of Heaven first-born ! 
 Or of the eternal coeternal beam 
 May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, 
 And never but in unapproached light, 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate." 
 
 32* 
 
378 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 And as the purity and the blessings of light made it a fit 
 emblem in the estimation of inspired writers to represent the 
 nature and effects of religion, so also for the same reason is 
 it appropriately used to describe the purity and felicity of 
 heaven. Hence it is written, " And there shall be no night 
 there." No physical night, no darkness, shall ever mantle 
 the celestial fields; no intellectual night, no errors of judg- 
 ment, no fallacious conclusions of the reasoning faculties. 
 But above all, there will be no moral night ; no impurity to 
 stain the soul, no foul breath to pollute the air, no impure 
 foot shall walk the golden streets, and no unholy eye shall 
 look upon its glories. But the moral glory of that home is 
 heightened, in view of the fact that not only the place but all 
 the inhabitants are holy. The adorable Trinity, Father, Son, 
 and Holy Ghost, are infinitely and absolutely holy. Isaiah, 
 in his vision, " saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high and 
 lifted up, and his train filled the temple." " And above it 
 stood the seraphims." "And one cried unto another, and 
 said. Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts ; the whole earth 
 is fall of his glory." And in the Apocalypse the heavenly 
 inhabitants are represented .as crying with a loud voice, say- 
 ing, " Holy, holy, holy, art thou. Lord God Almighty ; just 
 and true are all thy ways, thou King of saints." And of this 
 purity all the dwellers in heaven are partakers. All the 
 angels are holy. And as to the saints, they are like Christ ; 
 bearing His image, and reflecting His glorious holiness, as 
 the planets reflect the light of the sun. " He is able to 
 present you faultless before the presence of his glory with 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 379 
 
 exceeding joy." " Then," saith the Saviour, " shall the 
 rigliteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of the 
 Father." " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness 
 of the firmament, and as the stars, forever and ever." 
 " They shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy." 
 " The sufferings of this present time," says the Apostle, " are 
 not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be 
 revealed in us." These, and many other passages represent 
 to us the holiness of the saints. They are holy as God is 
 holy. And what an inconceivable moral splendor must, 
 therefore, clothe that heavenly world ! What a dignity and 
 glory would cover the earth, were all its inhabitants morally 
 pure ! But alas ! it is not so here ; for this world is a moral 
 waste, with here and there a flower w^aked into bloom by the 
 quickening power of Divine grace. This earth is a land of 
 storms and tempests, of tears and woes. Here we groan, being 
 burdened wuh many imperfections, and oppressed with many 
 trials. One calamity after another sweeps with desolating 
 power ov6r those cherished spots where we rejoiced in the 
 light of earthly prosperity ; and we move about in that circle 
 once radiant with joys, and vocal with voices forever hushed 
 on earth, and fill it with our lamentations, and water it with 
 our tears. Here we are continually reminded of the evil of 
 sin, and the miseries with which it embitters life. But 
 yonder we shall have passed beyond the reach of its influ- 
 ence ; for in that home of bliss there is no curse, no sin, no 
 sorrow, no death. All are happy, all are glowing with the 
 glory of Christ, and all things are flashing w^ilh the holiness 
 
380 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 of God. Blessed abode of my God ! holy home of my 
 beloved ones ! may I one day rejoice in thee, and fill thee 
 with my hallelujahs, while I lift my voice in the song of 
 Moses and the Lamb. 
 
 It is also a happy and glorious home. There there is 
 perfect harmony, and, therefore, perfect peace. No disturb- 
 ing element can enter there to conflict with our happiness. 
 Here we are never secure against those numerous external 
 evils and internal corruptions which mar our tranquillity and 
 disturb the peace of our souls. But as all those influences 
 which agitate and afflict our spirits are caused by sin, and as 
 in heaven we shall be perfectly holy, we shall also be 
 perfectly happy. And besides the absence of all disturbing 
 causes and jarring elements, the saints are also in possession 
 of all that can possibly contribute to the enjoyment of a 
 rational being. If it is already our privilege to drink so 
 largely from the fountains of grace as to fill the soul unutter- 
 ably full of joy, how much more will our happiness be aug- 
 mented when drinking from the river which flows from the 
 midst of the throne of God ! Here in this house of our 
 pilgrimage we have an occasional drop of refreshing ; but 
 there is the ocean of glory ; for it is only beyond the grave 
 that we shall enjoy the full flows of eternal happiness. Here 
 w^e have the bud and the blossom, there the fully matured 
 clusters. 
 
 But it is also a glorious home in view of the society of the 
 place, and the relations they sustain to each other. The 
 apostles speak of heaven as a house, a city, a commonwealth, 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME, 381 
 
 or association of believers. " For we know that if our earthly 
 house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building 
 of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 " Abraham, by faith, sojourned in the land of promise, as in 
 a strange land, dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, 
 the heirs with him of the same promise. For he looked 
 for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker 
 is God." " But ye are come unto mount Zion ; and unto 
 the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an 
 innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and 
 the church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and 
 to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the just made 
 perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant." 
 Now the grand idea in these and similar passages is, that 
 heaven is a great family, and that God, as the Father, 
 presides overall; and thus dwelling and rejoicing together 
 forever in each other's society. There will be the full 
 and perfect communion of saints. This family embraces 
 all the distinguished good from all nations and ages. 
 Among them will be found the parents of our race. There 
 will be found the Patriarchs ; Moses the lawgiver, and Aaron 
 the priest. There will the sweet singer of Israel pour forth 
 exalted strains of melody, and the lofty Isaiah will utter yet 
 sublimer conceptions of the grandeur of Jehovah. Jeremiah, 
 Ezekiel, Daniel, and all the prophets will mingle in the 
 eternal song, and commune with us concerning the wonders 
 and glories of redemption. And there will we meet the 
 innumerable company of martyrs and confessors, those great 
 
382 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 champions of Christianity " of whom the world was not 
 worthy." And there too, shall we join those with whom we 
 wept and rejoiced on earth, and with whom we took sweet 
 counsel ; — our parents, our children, companions and friends ; 
 and above all we will see Jesus our elder brother, the God- 
 Man, arrayed in the vestiture of His ineffable glory. 
 
 And while the great company of redeemed will present 
 the same variety in capacity and peculiarity of mind 
 which distinguished them from each other on earth, there will 
 be a perfect moral likeness. While those of lofty intellectual 
 faculties may soar higher in their conceptions, and their 
 thoughts sweep a wider range than many around them, they 
 will have upon them the same moral characteristics which the 
 humblest minds possess. All will be completely happy ; 
 but it will require more of God and of the universe to fill the 
 capacities of a Newton, than those of an African. They may 
 also retain their peculiar cast of mind, so that those who have 
 the poetic order may pour forth in flowing numbers the 
 sublime raptures which the objects around them have kindled 
 in their souls, w'hile others of a different mental sttucture, 
 may delight in watching the revolving orbs of light, and 
 investigating their physical structure. But under whatever 
 phases the intellects of the glorified may appear, they will all 
 be conscious of the same moral exercises ; for all are par- 
 takers of the spirit of Christ, and instinct with His glorious 
 presence. Their feelings, desires, and emotions, are all 
 blended in those utterances of praise to which they are 
 constantly inclined. And this moral likeness to each other 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 383 
 
 and to (iod, and this fusion of souls, will constitute their 
 intercourse one of the noblest and most delightful order. This 
 oneness of character will inspire each with love for all the 
 dwellers in the heavenly Zion, and, therefore, secure that 
 mutual aid, which may be required in their progress of know- 
 ledge, and in their study of the mysteries of eternity. The 
 angels who existed before the worlds were formed, and who 
 sang together when the creative energies of Jehovah were 
 displayed in the formation of this earth, may unfold to our 
 infant minds many things which will fill us with admiration 
 and joy. 
 
 Among the elements which will enter into our happiness in 
 that blessed home, the employments in which w^e shall engage 
 will constitute a large item. To me it has always seemed 
 an erroneous supposition that the activities of the saints are 
 wholly taken up in acts of praise and contemplations of 
 the perfections of Deity. That these exercises will enter 
 largely into their occupations is morally certain ; but that 
 they are the only and exclusive employments does not appear 
 probable. There are many other methods besides this con- 
 templation through which the excellency of the Divine char- 
 acter may be discovered and admired. The history of crea- 
 tion will be an absorbing theme of interest and study. For 
 with it are associated the grandeur, the might, the wisdom, 
 and goodness of God, The extent and duration of His 
 kingdom and being, the profundity of His counsels, and the 
 sublinjity of His power and glory, are all brought under 
 review in the volume of creation. Communications from 
 
384 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 those sons of light who were spectators of that event may be 
 imparted to the saints. And add to this the fact that God 
 will throw open to the inspection of His children the entire 
 universe, and permit them to visit all the worlds that move in 
 cloudless majesty through His vast dominions, and what sub- 
 lime lessons will the mind learn as it sweeps over that field of 
 immensity, studded with the magnificent creations of Jehovah ! 
 If the cultivated mind already derives its most exalted pleas- 
 ures from devout astronomical studies, will it not experience 
 infinitely greater delight, then, in viewing the motions and 
 listening to the melodies of the spheres ? And as the grandeur 
 of God's creations was the frequent theme of prophets and 
 inspired writers in general, and as nothing which they have 
 written impresses the mind whh a livelier sense of the might 
 and majesty of the great Architect than their allusions to, and 
 descriptions of, the vast materialism which He has fashioned, 
 so is it reasonable to infer that our impressions of the great- 
 ness of Jehovah will be proportionably increased as our con- 
 ceptions of the extent and magnificence of His empire will 
 be enlarged. We cherish it, then, as a precious conviction 
 that those heavens into whose holy depths our eyes have so 
 often and admiringly peered will become accessible to our 
 spirits, and that it will be our privilege to survey and explore 
 all the worlds with which they are peopled, as we now do the 
 earth upon which we dwell. 
 
 But another source of happiness in our future home will be 
 the volume of Divine Providence. That book contains many 
 chapters, which must be intensely interesting to all the 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 385 
 
 inhabitants of heaven. The first will be that which relates 
 to our personal history. There is much in our present life 
 which we imperfectly comprehend, and still much more that 
 is dark and mysterious. In many things which affect our 
 circumstances and condition, and which modify or determine 
 our character, we may recognize the presence of a super- 
 human agency, but cannot always know the reasons which 
 influenced the Divine mind in its providential dealings with 
 us. Things to which, perhaps, we now assign no higher 
 origin than that of our own minds or foresight, may there be 
 recognized as the legitimate products of a power behind our 
 mental operations, which, unknown to us, controlled these in 
 such a manner as to conduct us to the results which appeared 
 in our life. We like to think of God as present in all things, 
 and of His unseen hand as shaping our destinies for both 
 Vvorlds. For the Saviour has taught us that His providence 
 extends to the smallest particulars of our history. A sparrow 
 falls not to the ground, neither is a hair injured upon our 
 heads, without the Divine permission. God exercises a 
 w^atchful care over His people, and "has given His angels 
 charge concerning them." Such is the view every Christian 
 delights to entertain of the Divine protection. It is a great 
 comfort to know that His eye is upon us, and His hand over 
 us, and that His will determines our steps. I love to see my 
 God in the spangled heavens, and hear the silent utterances 
 of its hosts saying to my inmost soul, God is here. I love to 
 see God in the storm that darkens and sweeps the firmament, 
 and hear Him in the voice of the royal thunder, as it rolls 
 33 
 
886 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 along the great archway of the universe. I love to see Him 
 in the majestic ocean and in the quiet landscape, and hear 
 His breathings in the soft melodies of the sighing breeze. 
 But God is more beautiful still when I see Him in the tear ot 
 penitence, or the smile of resignation. And if such be our 
 feelings here, with what interest and wonder will we scan 
 those records of Providence which are at present so obscure 
 that no human penetration can read them ! Then will the 
 life that now appears disjointed and gloomy be a brilliant 
 chain of connected events, upon which every dark calamity 
 endured will form a glittering gem. 
 
 In this world, " we cannot, by searching, find out God," 
 for " His paths are in the seas, and His footsteps in the deep 
 waters." This is generally our experience in those afflictive 
 dispensations which befall us. We know not why God 
 should have given us that ang-elic child, and invested it with 
 such attractive charms, and endowed it with such rare 
 powers that it drew every fibre of our hearts around it, and 
 then just when the mind and heart were unfolding their 
 precious treasures destroy our hopes. The loss of friends 
 who, according to our apprehension, had not yet fulfilled 
 their mission, or the failure of health or fortune, may be 
 shrouded in impenetrable gloom to our minds, and yet those 
 very calamities may be the vestures which conceal from our 
 view the most valuable blessings which the hand of God has 
 ever bestowed upon us. " Ye know not now, but ye shall 
 know hereafter," said our Saviour to His disciples ; and thus 
 .t is with all God's people. Jacob once " said all these 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 387 
 
 things are against rae." But the sequel of his history proved 
 that God permitted those trials for the patriarch's good. And 
 when once in heaven, where we shall have a full knowledge 
 of the providential appointments of God, while He was fitting 
 us for a better world, we will be constrained to praise Him 
 for those painful incidents which here cause us our deepest 
 sorrow. We will then see that infinite mercy dictated our 
 aflflictions, and infallible wisdom controlled them for our 
 profit. And if not now, we shall hereafter see that all things 
 are ordered by God. As every atom vibrates with omnipo- 
 tence, so every event connected with the salvation of the soul 
 is instinct with Divinity. For as all things are ushered into 
 existence to show forth the glory of God ; so has He designed 
 that each one should do so in the way which He has ordained. 
 And as every object and event, so, also, has every individual 
 a particular mission to fulfil, and a special work to perform. 
 All are necessary to complete the grand design of God, and 
 to carry out those great purposes which pervade the plan of 
 the Divine government. And that we may accomplish our 
 part in the great work in which God, and Christ, and the 
 Holy Spirit, and angels, and men, are co-workers, we must 
 be qualified by that providential discipline, which an all-wise 
 God sees best suited to secure this end. It is not, then, 
 simply in the outspread and unveiled universe, that we shall 
 behold the evidences of His wisdom, the unsearchableness of 
 His goodness, and the glory of His power ; but also in all 
 the great and small events which enter into our personal 
 history. 
 
388 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME, 
 
 But in the volume of Providence are also registered the 
 histories of all those men and nations, whom Almighty power 
 made instrumental in carrying out the purposes of redemp- 
 tion. It will reveal the amazing fact, that a sleepless Provi- 
 dence presided over all the physical, intellectual, and moral 
 forces which were active in fashioning the history of this 
 earth, and of the human race. So that, while men ascribed 
 the distinction and glory of nations and individuals to their 
 own skill and genius, and the misfortunes and ruin of others 
 to opposite causes, the unseen power of Jehovah was the 
 dominant force among the elements w^hich made up the 
 history of redeemed humanity. For " the Lord hath estab- 
 lished His throne in the heavens, and His kingdom ruleth 
 over all.'' And from that exalted position He surveys all 
 things. His ear hears all the whispers in the secret cabinets 
 of the Kings and rulers of this world, and His eye beholds 
 every rising purpose in all those hearts which are beating 
 over our earth, and whenever and wherever He sees any 
 attempt, or plan, to counterwork the purposes of His govern- 
 ment, He utters the command from His throne — "Be still, 
 and know that I am God, I will be exalted among the 
 heathens, I will be exalted in the earth." And before the 
 power of that will, thrones fall, kings expire, and nations 
 perish. And it is not an arbitrary and tyrannic rule which 
 His Providence exercises over all things. But as the Maker 
 and Preserver of all, the great Proprietor v.ho has reared this 
 immense material fabric, beautified it with a rare excellence, 
 and filled it with immortal beings. He superintends and 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 389 
 
 controls the world and all His creatures in such a manner, 
 that as a whole, it may reflect the glory of His perfections, 
 and contribute to the everlasting happiness of His righteous 
 and intelligent creatures. And, therefore, all those things 
 obscurely visible here, will become manifest in heaven, and 
 form exalted themes of praise and glory. No volume will 
 ever possess richer materials for meditation, or profounder 
 exhibitions of the omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, 
 and infinite mercy of Jehovah ; and there can be no question, 
 that the sparkling multitudes who encircle the eternal throne, 
 will be indebted to the records of this book, for many of 
 their loftiest and sweetest strains. 
 
 In addition to these sources of happiness in the Christian's 
 future home, there are yet more exalted elements of glory in 
 the occupations of saints. The mysteries of redemption will 
 engage their highest efforts, and ravish their souls with their 
 holiest raplures. All things else which are tributary to the 
 happiness of the righteous are secondary to the work of 
 redemption. That scheme of mercy will stand out alone 
 amid all the stupendous trophies of the infinite mind, and 
 will be invested with a sublime grandeur peculiarly its own 
 — clothed with such an overwhelming effulgence of Divine 
 love, that it will be as marked, distinct, and flaming among all 
 the other works of God, as the sun in his noon-day splendor; 
 and the lustre of all others will fade away in the superior glory 
 of the work of redeeming mercy. And then, v>ith enlarged 
 and perfected capacities, our conceptions of the evil of sin, and 
 the depths into which it had plunged us, will be clearer; and, 
 33* 
 
390 PRESENT AND FUTUlCE HOME. 
 
 therefore, the greatness of a Saviour's compassion and a 
 Redeemer's love, which elevated us to a blessed irammortal- 
 ity, will be better appreciated than now. And as we survey 
 the infinite dimensions of the "length, and breadth, and 
 height, and depth of the love of Christ," our .souls will 
 exult amid the wonders of the New Jerusalem ; and while 
 we raise our ascriptions of praise to Him, and join our fellow- 
 heirs of that glorious inheritance in the shout, " Worthy is 
 the Lamb !" there will be such inflows of His glory into the 
 channels of our being as to fill us with all the *' fullness of 
 God." 
 
 But it is also proper to observe, if we would rise to a just 
 conception of the blessedness of the saints, that their holy 
 natures will be susceptible of infinite progress, and of ex- 
 pansion without limit. Progression is a law of our spiritual 
 being. As the power of motion which the Creator has 
 imparted to the physical universe is a law which must always 
 remain in force so long as the perfection of that organism 
 shall continue, so is progress of the mind a law coexistent 
 and coenduring with the mind itself. It is written upon all 
 the intellectual and moral faculties of the soul ; and they are 
 destined to rise from one height of excellence to another 
 through all eternity. 0, ray soul ! what a prospect there is 
 before thee ! for there is a moment in thy future history, if 
 ransomed by a Saviour's blood and sanctified by the Holy 
 Spirit, when thou shalt occupy that exalted position of excel- 
 lence which now marks the progress of the archangel nearest 
 the throne of the eternal Godhead! What a sublime destiny 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME, 391 
 
 does eternity open up to the sanctified ! The eye of faith 
 may peer onward as through ten thousand heavens, and see 
 one series after another of increasing and overwhelming 
 glories rising along its path ; for with God as the source and 
 centre, and eternity as the circle and range of our happiness, 
 we can only find fitting utterance of its vastness in the 
 language of inspiration, " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
 neither have entered into the heart of man the things which 
 God has prepared for them v.ho love hira." This view 
 gives us a faint idea of the meaning of those lofty ex- 
 pressions in relation to that blessed world, " a weight of 
 glory," " an exceeding weight of glory," " an exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory." 
 
 And this brings us to the last feature of our heavenly 
 home, and that is, its perpetuity. It will abide forever — it 
 is eternal. This is its crowning excellence. That which 
 greatly depreciates the value of the most desirable earthly 
 possessions, and honors, and distinctions, is their liability to 
 pass away ; yea, the inevitable destruction which awaits them. 
 Decay and death are imprinted upon all things. Among the 
 properties which enter into the constitution of earthly objects, 
 we neither find permanence nor indestructibility. God has 
 impressed mutability upon all the works of man. No 
 magnificent city that he has built, no stately pile nor towering 
 pyramid which his genius has planned and his industr}' has 
 executed, but hath either crumbled into a heap of ruins, or 
 has upon it the marks of decay. No, not the most costly 
 and durabh; monument of marble or of brass will remain 
 
392 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 exempt from this inevitable doom. Man himself is an illus- 
 tration of this frailty of human things ; " for his days are as 
 the grass, as a flower of the field he flourisheth ; for the wind 
 passeth over it, and it is gone, and the place that knew it 
 shall know it no more forever." " Our fathers, where are 
 they?" "And the prophets, do they live forever?" Alas! 
 what millions have gone dow^n into the tomb, and what 
 precious treasures does the earth hold over to the resurrection 
 morn ! Look we at our firesides and households ; our 
 families are growing less. 
 
 "Friend after friend departs, 
 Who has not lost a friend !" 
 
 The most lovely and happily-conditioned family has ger- 
 minating within it, the seeds of death and dissolution. But 
 the Christian dies but once, and dying, lives forever. Bless- 
 ed be God ! we can stand by our deserted family altars, and 
 desolate hearths, and look up to our future glorious home, 
 already occupied by our sainted friends, and rejoice, that 
 decay and blight never fall upon the Christian's home in 
 heaven. 
 
 " No chilling winds, nor poisonous breath, 
 Can reach that healthful shore ; 
 Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, 
 Are felt and feared no more !" 
 
 No, it is permanent. Its foundations are laid in the im- 
 mutability of Jehovah — its walls are immortality, its gates 
 praise, and its day eternity. There it stands in its peerless 
 glory, the metropolis of the universe, luminous w'ith the light 
 of God and the lamb. And amid all the changes which may 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 393 
 
 sweep with desolating power over thrones and kingdoms, it 
 
 wi.l stand radiant with salvation, and remain unshaken and 
 
 unimpaired, amid — 
 
 " The wreck of matter 
 And the crash of worlds." 
 
 Blessed city of God ! Glorious home of my departed ! may 
 my step never falter while I tread the road to thee ! May 
 my efforts never be relaxed to make my calling and election 
 sure, until safely sheltered within thy walls ! 
 
 And may not those who have furnished inmates for that 
 glorious home — who have watched by the pillow^ of the 
 dying whom they loved, until their spirits took wing for that 
 place of rest, derive comfort from the assurance that they are 
 supremely blest! 0! you would not, if you could, my 
 bereaved brother, or sister, silence one of the harps of heaven 
 by bringing back the spirit whose hand sw'eeps it to the 
 praise of the Redeemer! Nay, the more you contemplate 
 the glory of that home, and the blessedness of its occupants, 
 the more you will become reconciled to the most painful 
 bereavements ; while the hope of entering there, will excite 
 you to unremitted diligence to obtain that purity of heart, 
 without which, we cannot see God. Aged disciple, thou art 
 near thy home, and ! such a home ! Labor patiently, thou 
 man of toil, pray fervently, and wait calmly, for thy redemp- 
 tion draweth nigh ! Weary, afflicted, desolate one, drink the 
 cup which a father's hand gives, for thy night of sorrow is fast 
 passing away; for behold, the dawn of an eternal day of 
 glory is now breaking upon thy clouds. God grant that all 
 
394 PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 
 
 of US may set a proper estimate upon the realities of a coming 
 eternity. And may He, " who worketh within us according to 
 His own pleasure," kindle in our bosoms an ardent longing 
 for that blessed abode, that while threading our weary pil- 
 grimage through this world, we may cause the vale of our 
 humiliation to resound with these earnest breathings of the 
 home-sick soul. 
 
 " Jerusalem! my happy home ! 
 When shall I come to thee? 
 When shall my sorrows have an end ? 
 Thy joys when shall I see? 
 
 ! happy harbor of the saints, 
 
 ! sweet and pleasant soil ; 
 In thee no sorrow may be found, 
 
 No grief, no care, no toil. 
 
 Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 
 
 God grant I once may see 
 Thy endless joys, and of the same 
 
 Partaker, aye, to be. 
 
 Thy walls are made of precious stones, 
 
 Thy bulwarks diamonds square, 
 Thy gates are of right orient pearl. 
 
 Exceeding rich and rare. 
 
 Ah, my sweet home, Jerusalem ! 
 
 Would God I were in thee ; 
 Would God my woes were at an end, 
 
 Thy joys that I might see. 
 
 Thy saints are crowned with glory great, 
 
 They see God face to face ; 
 They triumph still, they still rejoice. 
 
 Most happy in their case. 
 
PRESENT AND FUTURE HOME. 395 
 
 Quite through the streets -with silver sound, 
 
 The flood of life doth flow ; 
 Upon whose banks, on every side, 
 
 The wood of life doth grow. 
 
 There trees forevermore bear fruit, 
 
 And evei-more do spring; 
 There saints and angels ever sit, 
 
 And evermore do sing. 
 
 Jerusalem ! my happy home ! 
 
 AVould God I were in thee ! 
 Would God my woes were at an end. 
 
 Thy joys that I might see." 
 
 May such be the aspirations of our minds, and such the 
 song of our pilgrimage, until the rays of hope which gild 
 the distant horizon shall have melted into the glory of perfect 
 day, and the joys which now thrill our hearts have swelled 
 into the raptures of the redeemed, and the glorious shout 
 echoes through the arches of the Eternal Palace — Home ! — 
 Home ! — Sweet Heavenly Home ! 
 
CHAPTER NINETEENTH. 
 
 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT, OR THE USES WE 
 SHOULD MAKE OF AFFLICTIONS AND BEREAVE- 
 MENTS. 
 
 " Affliction is the ■wholesome soil of virtue, 
 Where patience, honor, sweet humanity, 
 Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish." 
 
 There is no evil whose ashes may not nourish seeds of 
 blessing. The inundating flood and the consuming wave of 
 fire may have swept away the golden treasures of the field, 
 but they have left a fertilizing deposit to produce a richer 
 harvest. And so have I seen the swelling floods of sorrow, 
 and the consuming fires of affliction, leave the preparations 
 of a greater good than they have taken. Having communed 
 with each other around the sepulchres of our departed, I may 
 hope that there is a sufficient degree of sympathy established 
 between us, to justify me in addressing my readers on the 
 uses which we should make of afflictive dispensations. As I 
 have passed years in the school of personal aflfliction, and 
 wept over the dust of those who were " bone of my bone, 
 
 and flesh of my flesh," I may perhaps be able, under the 
 
 (396) 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 397 ♦ 
 
 guiding hand of the spirit, to lead others to those sources 
 where my own soul has gathered consolation and strength. 
 This I shall endeavor to do, by a statement of the views 
 which we should take of these dispensations. 
 
 And first of all, it is important to remember that God is in 
 our afflictions and bereavements. His will determines them, 
 and His hand brings them to pass. It is not a blind chance 
 that checkers our life with joys and sorrows. Neither are 
 those changes incident to the relations we sustain to others, 
 simply the results of secondary causes acting in conjunction 
 with our constitutional organization ; for even those law^s of 
 mutation to which all material things are subjected, can only 
 remain in active force, and accomplish tlieir end, as long as 
 they are vitally connected with that Almighty power, whose 
 energy fills and animates all things. God is, therefore, 
 accomplishing His purposes concerning us and our families 
 through these instrumentalities, and may consequently be 
 regarded as the author of our bereavements in all cases where 
 persons have not, from choice, been the procurers of their 
 own sickness, by a violation of the laws of their being. 
 But we should also remember, that when God bereaves it is 
 with a wise design. It is not a blind stroke, or a random 
 blow, which prostrates the tabernacle of an immortal being. 
 And as He afflicts not because he is cruel and delights in our 
 distress, but out of love and for our profit, we should always 
 expect to derive a greater ultimate good than that which we 
 forfeit by calamity. And this we may do, even when deprived 
 of our most cherished friends, if we improve the chastenings 
 34 
 
„398 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 of the Lord to the enlargement and correctness of our views 
 of His character and governmerrt, of life and death, of 
 time and eternity. God comes in these dispensations as a 
 Sovereign, and by the sickness, the circumstances, and the 
 time when He removes a friend, He announces the fact that 
 " no one can stay His hand, or say unto Him, what doest 
 thou ?" Said a weeping mother to me, who had lost a child 
 — "I could not bear it, did I not see the finger of God in 
 this affliction." But it was not simply a correct view of His 
 Sovereignty which gives Him an absolute right to all His 
 creatures, to dispose of them according to His pleasure ; but 
 this attribute associated with those other perfections which 
 make up His character, that sustained her in the hour of 
 tribulation. She knew that He was a God of infinite wisdom, 
 and, therefore, capable of directing all things aright, and of 
 immeasurable goodness, and that, consequently. His infallible 
 mind saw that it was for the good of the child, for the happi- 
 ness of the parents, and the glory of His name, that He 
 removed it to eternity. And it is not difficult to become 
 thoroughly convinced that He is worthy of such confidence 
 and trust at all times. But to feel this, we must look up and 
 see Him seated on His exalted throne, clothed in all those 
 Divine attributes which are necessary to constitute Him the 
 all-wise ruler of the universe. And we should also know, 
 that it is impossible for God to do wrong, for that is infinitely 
 foreign to His nature ; neither can He be mistaken as to the 
 fitness of things, or the opportuneness of events, since all time 
 and eternity lie open to His inspection, and He sees all the 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 399 
 
 results worked out before He sets in motion the cause that 
 produces them, and that, therefore. He acts not blindly, but 
 wisely, when He visits a family with death. " Just, and 
 strong, and opportune, is the moral rule of God." 
 
 With such conceptions of the Divine character and 
 government, we can cheerfully acquiesce in all that His will 
 ordains. And here, then, we are brought to the first solid 
 ground of comfort, and the first permanent basis of good in 
 afflictions, holy and unreserved submission to God. Peace 
 never visits the soul alarmed in view of its sinfulness, until it 
 bows in unconditional surrender to heaven ; and light breaks 
 not in upon the mind laboring under dark calamities, until it 
 admits and feels that it is God's prerogative to bestow 
 such comforts, or to withdraw such blessings as the counsel 
 of His will determines best suited to secure our happiness 
 and to promote His glory. Throw yourself upon His bosom, 
 as the distressed child does upon that of its mother, and He 
 will comfort you. We must not attempt to fly from God, but 
 rush to His embrace, that His everlasting arms may encircle 
 us, and shield us from dangers. A soul is never so lovely in 
 the sight of God as when it kneels in humility at His throne, 
 and breathes the prayer v>hich came from heaven, " Thy will 
 be done!" God loves to hear that prayer from the creatures 
 \s-hora He governs ; for although too feeble to contend with 
 the Eternal, or war against His providence, they may have 
 strength, and peace, and glory, by submitting to His will. 
 " Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is staid 
 on thee." "Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that 
 
400 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness 
 and hath no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord, 
 and stay upon his God.'^ 
 
 Seeing, then, that God moves in these calamities, and that 
 they come with a wise design, we should further inquire 
 what lessons he wishes to impress upon our minds. How 
 shall we interpret the language of His providence ? He 
 comes to us robed in dispensations which make His presence 
 awfully solemn. I should regard it as a thing of infinite 
 moment to be placed in such circumstances. And I should 
 carefully inquire what God means to teach me in reference to 
 myself. Do I not hear His voice addressing me from that 
 silent coffin in my house, and from that shrouded slumberer, 
 " Be ye also ready ?" Ready for what ? For thy transi- 
 tion from time to eternity, my soul ; to meet death, to die 
 happy and hopeful, and to enter into the presence of thy 
 Judge. And O, what a solemn lesson have I here to learn ! 
 what a momentous question must I decide ! Am I ready to 
 die .'' Have I made the needful preparation ? Am I clothed in 
 the robe of Divine righteousness? Am I justified, and have 
 I peace with God through the Lord Jesus? my God! help 
 me to deal honeslty with my own soul. Lord Jesus, aid me 
 in this business of my salvation! Eternal Spirit, descend 
 into the council-chamber of my heart, that I may act with 
 Thy wisdom when I sit in judgment upon the great, the 
 tremendous interests of my immortality, O my soul ! awake 
 thou to a just sense of thy condition and state before God. 
 It is not a matter of small moment whether thou shalt eter- 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 401 
 
 nally rejoice m glory, or weep in hell. Thou art not a worth- 
 less trinket, my soul ! The wealth of the universe was too 
 poor to purchase thee ; the atoning blood of the Son of God 
 bespeaks thy value. Thou shalt live forever. To thee 
 eternity is no trifle ; for thy capacities shall forever swell and 
 overflow with heaven's raptures, or labor with eternal woes. 
 O my soul ! the thought is startling ; it is oppressive ; it 
 gathers within it the energies of eternity ; it flames and 
 breathes whh endless anguish — thou mayst be lost! Shut 
 out of heaven, and confined in dark despair! The unquench- 
 able fire may roll its consuming waves through the channels 
 of thy being ! The undying death-worm may writhe as 
 a wounded monster in thy halls of memory ! and conscience 
 cause thee to utter woes wide and deep as eternity! But, 
 must thou be lost ? must a dark and cheerless future be thy 
 portion ? It must not, it will not, be thy doom, if thou 
 harden not thyself to reject the overtures of mercy. If thou 
 wilt hear the voice of God and obey it ; if thou wilt fly for 
 life to the death of Jesus, and for shelter from the storms 
 of sin and affliction to the Rock of ages, cleft to make 
 for us a hiding-place from a guilty conscience and the 
 wrath of God, thou mayest live ! 
 
 From myself may I turn to you who peruse these pages, 
 and speak kindly but earnestly to you, touching your salva- 
 tion. Afflictions form an important element among the 
 means used in God's economy, for the awakening and 
 saving of the soul. Trials appropriately used will tend to 
 the sanctification of saints; and bereavements properly 
 34* 
 
402 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 regarded will utter voices of warning to the unconverted. 
 But persons are not always converted when they are afflicted ; 
 the reason why these trials are not always effectual in lead- 
 ing to regeneration, is, because they are not used as God 
 designs they should be. If an individual is not in a state of 
 reconciliation with heaven, when he is brought under afflic- 
 tion, he should regard it as a messenger from God's throne, 
 sent on a special mission to him. It says to him — " Behold 
 I stand at the door and knock." " Set thy house in order." 
 " It is appointed unto man once to die, and after that the 
 judgment." Be ready for your departure. And if this 
 messenger has come to you darkly robed as he is, and pain- 
 ful as may be the intelligence he bears, give him a patient 
 hearing. Let your soul ponder his lessons, and give itself to 
 serious reflection. Let your eye run over the past, and also 
 look searchingly within. Open your Bible and learn the true 
 cause of your suffering. Ascribe not the calamity to second- 
 ary causes, for there is one behind these who orders and 
 controls them. Behold God in your afflictions, and recog- 
 nize in them His hand inflicting his displeasure against sin. 
 Let the holy book unfold to you His character, while in it 
 as a mirror you see your own reflected. Take a view of the 
 extent and purity of the Divine law ; — how it is a discerner 
 of the thoughts, and lays its authority upon the intents of the 
 heart. See its right to marshal outward action under its 
 control, and command the inward homage of the soul to God. 
 Study your delinquencies, and soon shalt thou discover that 
 thine iniquities are infinite. Ponder the description which 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 403 
 
 Paul gives of the unregeaerate in Ephesians. " Without 
 Christ, ahens from the commonweaUh of Israel, strangers 
 from the covenants of promise, without hope and without 
 God in the world." And such is the condition of all those 
 who have not yet acknowledged " Christ the power of God, 
 and the wisdom of God, to salvation." " Who have 
 not been born of water and the spirit, and become new 
 creatures in Christ Jesus." If you belong to this class, 
 reflect for a moment on the several aspects assigned to the 
 sinner's state, " Without Christ," Then you are cut off 
 from God's favor, and you are destitute of holiness, " without 
 which no one sees the Lord." A branch separated from the 
 parent stem has no quickening and sustaining power. It 
 must wither and die. The soul out of Christ is barren of all 
 good, and devoid of spiritual life. You have then no peace, 
 for " out of Christ, God is a consuming fire." Then you 
 cannot run to Him as your "strong tower" which shelters 
 from earthly calamities and the retributions of eternity. You 
 should, therefore, suffer your afflictions and bereavements to 
 lead you to the feet of the Saviour. Come to Him, and 
 bring with you a broken heart and a contrite spirit, and He 
 will give you rest, comfort, and hope. None other can help 
 you, and defend you. And if you remain without Him, what 
 will you do in soul-troubles ? What will you do when your 
 own tabernacle is falling to pieces, and your soul is required .'' 
 What will you do for an advocate when you come to the 
 judgment? You cannot plead your own cause, "for every 
 mouth will be stopped and the whole world stand guilty 
 
404 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 before God." What will you do. amid the fires of the last 
 great day, amid crashing worlds, and a dissolving universe, 
 when the crucified One will be the only refuge of the soul ? 
 Ponder these things while affliction marshals before your mind 
 the great realities of a boundless future. 
 
 But if unconverted, then you are also an alien from God's 
 spiritual commonwealth, and have no claim to His protection 
 and blessing. The foreigner cannot rightfully expect the 
 privileges and blessings of citizenship, until after his adoption 
 as a member of this confederacy. And can we ask less for 
 the kingdom of Jesus, than we do for a human governuient ? 
 Shall we approbate the ordinance in the human, and repro- 
 bate the same rule in the Divine ? If not, then as a spiritual 
 alien, you can set up no claim to God's care and blessing. 
 Not one of the promises which gem the sacred page can be 
 yours, until adopted into God's family, and until you have 
 become a child and heir of heaven. For if not born again, 
 then you are a " stranger from the covenants," in which the 
 Lord engages to defend, and keep, and bless us. And in 
 your distress, no one has authority to apply to you the promise 
 — "the eternal God is thy refuge, and the everlasting arms 
 are underneath you." Nor yet say to you ; " Cast thy burden 
 upon the Lord and He will sustain you." It would be un- 
 faithfulness to God to console with His promises, those who 
 still refuse to sue for His mercy ; and it would do injury to 
 the soul to bind it up with any other balm, but that of Gilead. 
 We must not cry peace, where there is no peace ; but 
 admonish the soul to enter into the way of reconciliation with 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 405 
 
 heaven But the condition of the unregenerate is still more 
 melancholy, for he is " a stranger." A stranger to grace, to 
 purity, to hope. A stranger's condition is sad. When 
 wandering through distant climes, surrounded by the living 
 throngs of populous cities, or amid the varied and rich 
 scenery of nature, everywhere and at all times there is a sense 
 of loneliness hanging about his heart. And so, also, is he 
 who is estranged from God conscious of an inward and 
 aching void. It is sad when the stranger falls sick in a 
 strange land, in a strange house, and meets death far away 
 from the sweet influences of home. O God ! how hard it is 
 to die alone ! to have no hand of affection to wipe the death- 
 drops from the brow, no sympathizing friend to cool the 
 parched tongue and gently smooth his passage from this 
 world. But what will it be to die without the gracious 
 presence of God? To have no reconciled Father to put His 
 arm beneath the sinking soul, no Spirit to comfort, no Saviour 
 to go with him through the dark valley — O! this is the 
 painful end of him who has no interest m " the covenants of 
 promise." And truly melancholy is the stranger's funeral ; 
 a rude cofEn receives the shroudless corpse ; a few follow to 
 the potter's field, where his remains are committed to earth, 
 without one tear of affection to embalm his ashes. But who 
 could picture the disposal of the soul that passed in its 
 estrangement from God into eternity ? Eternal Mercy ! what 
 are the funeral obsequies of a lost soul ? Shrouded in living- 
 flame, and buried in bottomless perdition ! 
 
 But the impenitent are " without hope and without God in 
 
406 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 the world." Another touch of darkness to the picture of 
 impenitency. No star of hope to shine in a dark sky, to com- 
 fort in sorrow, and to sustain in death. No reconciled God. 
 Living without God, is to live beyond the circle of His smiles, 
 and the range of His favors. And is it not a lamentable state to 
 be found in, when God sends death into the family ? To have 
 no heavenly Father to go to, and no compassionate Saviour to 
 share our burdens aiid woes ? And yet this spiritual aliena- 
 tion from heaven, and this comfortless state of the soul, is all 
 the result of our choice. For in the dawn of life did the 
 Lord already approach you, loaded with rare blessings, and 
 say, " Those that seek me early shall find me." And behold 
 how all along your path there gleamed the light of His favor. 
 Along the road of life did He station heralds to warn and to 
 invite you to become partakers of the great salvation. Every 
 day there came on swift wing bright blessings from a Father's 
 throne, mingled with a voice from the bleeding Jesus on the 
 cross, uttering the invitation, " Look unto me and be ye 
 saved," while the Spirit ever pointed in the way to happiness 
 and to God, and whispered " This is the way, walk ye in 
 it." And after all these admonitions produced no effect, and 
 the droppings of the sanctuary neither softened nor awakened 
 the heart, and when Jesus had stood knocking at your door 
 until his locks were w^et with dew, and could not gain admis- 
 sion into the soul for which He had agonized and bled. His 
 amazing love was not yet exhausted, and He came in your 
 bereavements to cut the cords which bound your affections to 
 the dust, and carried your treasure to heaven, that your 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 407 
 
 hearts might follow it there. The kind parent does not 
 always find the gentlest means the most efficient to mould the 
 character of a beloved child ; and thus, also, may our 
 heavenly Father reverse the current of our affections from 
 earth to heaven, by taking to Himself one who had been en- 
 shrined in our hearts. Very beautifully does Tholuck remark, 
 " Is it not true that when the sun shines upon us, and we feel 
 its gentle warmth in our life, we become indifferent to its 
 mild beams, and do not so much as ask, whence comes the 
 pleasant light ? Because it is grateful to our feelings, we 
 think that it is a matter of course. If any one says this is 
 the work of God, it is said in mere formality . Not until the 
 tempest comes which we dread, do we look around us and 
 inquire, whence comes this ?" 0, should you then, dear reader, 
 find yourself in an unrenewed state in the midst of your afflic- 
 tions and bereavements, hasten at once, and with a penitent 
 heart, to your Redeemer. A tear of penitence, shed by a stricken 
 soul, is, in His sight, a brighter jewel than any of the gems 
 with which the azure vault is studded ; for that tear will draw 
 upon it the eyes of God and His angels, and all heaven will 
 turn to look upon the penitent, while the news rolls through 
 the armies of the sky, " Behold he prayeth." Many motives 
 might be offered to the consideration of the afflicted for an 
 immediate consecration to God. It is a solemn duty. " God 
 commands men every where to repent." And He has a right 
 to issue this requirement ; and every moment that we live in 
 sin, we pour contempt upon His authority, and breathe defi- 
 ance at the threatenings v'hich come clothed with omnipotence. 
 
408 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 All the great interests associated with the present and the 
 future call for immediate reconciliation with God, And His 
 goodness and mercy of w^hich we are the undeserving 
 recipients demand a cessation of this warfare with the 
 Eternal. Is it not enough that so much of our time has been 
 prostituted upon subordinate, if not base things ? Not enough 
 that we have so long injured our God, and crucified afresh the 
 Lord Jesus? Is it so pleasant to live in self-condemnation, 
 and in conflict with every principle of the Divine govern- 
 ment? Encircled with memorials of His goodness, and our- 
 selves the most amazing monuments of His forbearance and 
 love, do we remain unmoved ? Is there no flesh in these 
 hearts? Alas! what blindness and hardness where men 
 remain unaffected under influences which should be adequate 
 to awaken the most careless, and to melt the most obdurate! 
 Sufler me to urge one more consideration, and that is, the 
 great danger of losing your soul if you pass through severe 
 afflictions and painful bereavements without a change of 
 purpose and of heart. It is impossible not to feel at all when 
 death is at work in the circle of our friendship. The realities 
 of eternity will agitate the soul, and the stroke of death, 
 though it falls upon another, will open the fountains of grief, 
 and awaken reflection; so that, if convictions are resisted, 
 solemn thoughts pushed from the mind, tender emotions 
 turned out of the heart, and all impressions, like marks upon 
 the sandy beach, obliterated by the next day's tide of excite- 
 ment or business, there is little hope left of that individual's 
 salvation. For it is while the earth is rocked by the thunder, 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 409 
 
 and the shower saturates the ground, that the germs are 
 quickened, and will spring fordi if not resisted ; and thus, 
 also, when a storm of Providence startles the soul to its 
 secret depths, and it is bathed with the melting tenderness of 
 a broken heart, the Holy Spirit will implant seeds of truth, 
 which will spring up into eternal life if not crushed by an 
 obstinate w'ill. Such, then, is the use which the un- 
 converted should make of their bereavements — they should 
 make the fall of a friend the means of their resurrection unto 
 newness of life. 
 
 But the Christian, who has already an interest in the 
 atoning sacrifice of Christ, should also derive spiritual im- 
 provement from such trials. He should carefully examine 
 the frames and dispositions of his mind ; for even the believer 
 may become worldly-minded, and grow cold and formal in 
 the discharge of his religious duties. It was spring, and I 
 heard the winged south wind breathing around me, and 
 I saw the sunbeams falling gently upon the earth, and 
 by their soft caresses wooing into life many lovely and beauti- 
 ful things, until the fields smiled and flowers bloomed, and 
 forests were clad with attractive foliage ; but the sun shone 
 on with increasing heat and brightness, and the air blew with 
 greater fervor, until the song of the brook was hushed, and 
 the half-open flowers withered upon the stem, and all nature 
 lay parched and panting under a burning sky, until clouds 
 which had been freighted by the far-off fountain and the 
 distant sea, came and wept for pity upon that desolate scene, 
 and it was made glad, and smiled back to the clouds which 
 35 
 
410 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 had overshadowed and refreshed it. And so have I seen the 
 child of God entering upon the new hfe in Christ, and the 
 sun of earthly prosperity poured its light around him, and the 
 graces of religion bloomed awhile in his heart, and his life 
 abounded with the fruits of righteousness ; but his successes 
 enlarged and multiplied his cares, which choked the channels 
 and dried up the streams of grace, until his life was stripped 
 of all spiritual excellence, and his soul had leanness and was 
 panting in " a dry and thirsty land ;" and then a merciful 
 God formed a tempest of calamity about him, which shot from 
 its dark pavilion the lightning's bolt into that mountain of his 
 strength, which had grown up to such dimensions between 
 him and the Lord, that it caught the descending dews of 
 grace that were to nourish his spirit, and the mountain fell, 
 and the clouds of sorrow euiptied their floods upon him, and 
 he cried out, " all thy waves and thy billows are gone over 
 me." But I looked again, and lo ! he stood forth clothed in 
 the light of his Father's countenance, and his piety was fresh, 
 and his hope cheerful ; and I heard him utter in sweet and 
 grateful accents — " Before I w^as afflicted I went astray, but 
 now I keep Thy word." "It was good for me that I was 
 afflicted, that I might learn Thy statutes." " For I know, O 
 Lord, that Thy judgments are right, and that Thou in faith- 
 fulness hast afflicted me." " Thus many shall be purified, 
 and made white, and tried." 
 
 But in a matter of such vital concern to the soul, and on 
 which such momentous interests are pending, it will be well 
 for us to consider more particularly the advantages which the 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGUT. 411 
 
 Christian should reap from afllictions and bereavements. 
 From the moment of our conversion, we are placed under 
 that moral discipline which the Infinite Mind sees necessary 
 to the development of that style of character which the Lord 
 would have us possess. Those immortal jewels with which 
 the crown of Jesus is to be gemmed, need grinding and 
 burnishing rightly to reflect the excellence of His religion 
 here, and His glory yonder. A certain providential course 
 of training is needed in conjunction with the constant opera- 
 tions of the Spirit, to carry forward without interruption, the 
 work of sanctification towards its completion in Christ. For 
 all who have any knowledge of their own hearts, are assured 
 that, even after renewing grace has commenced doing its 
 office, it meets with many obstructions in its gracious work. 
 We are so earthly in our dispositions and feelings, and are 
 so constantly associated with tangible objects, that it is only 
 by extraordinary and superhuman influences, that our affec- 
 tions can be fixed, abidingly fixed ^ upon those things which 
 are at the right hand of God. And even with all our watch- 
 ings and struggles for freedom from worldly entanglements, 
 the wings of the soul are often trammeled and bound by the 
 network of sensual influences which a world hostile to grace 
 throws around them. Even friends, companions, and chil- 
 dren sometimes usurp that sanctuary in our souls, which 
 should be filled with the awful presence of Jehovah. And 
 if we strive to maintain God's appropriate supremacy in our 
 affections, the objects of our human love bind with strong 
 cords our spirits to the dust. And hence it is for our own 
 
412 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 good when God breaks these bonds, either by crushing the 
 idol, or by taking our friends to himself. The Master is 
 intent upon weaning us from the things around us, and this is 
 never so effectually done as when He comes in sickness and 
 in death. It is on such occasions that we learn the lesson, 
 that however indispensable these family ties are to our 
 existence and happiness, they are only the road through 
 which we pass, and not the end of our being. Amid the 
 scenes of home- desolation, we are impressively taught the 
 vanity of earth, and the worth of heaven. And if ever we do 
 form a just estimate of the shortness and value of time, and 
 the greatness of eternity, it is while bearing the companions 
 of our journey to their silent homes. 
 
 It should be the holy determination of God's children when 
 sickness comes, to make it and its issues tributary to their 
 spiritual good. For it must be very obvious to all who are 
 acquainted with the laws of our being, and the tendencies of 
 afflictions, that they cannot and will not leave us as they 
 found us. They will make us better or worse. They will 
 make their subject humble or rebellious ; bring him nearer to 
 God, or drive him farther from Him. The gold, in passing 
 through the furnace, will acquire greater purity, and, there- 
 fore, greater value ; or it will be burnt, and rendered worth- 
 less. And so, also, the soul w'hich is not purified in its 
 passage through the fires of Providence, will be hardened. 
 But if any one should ask, what must I do in order to realize 
 the benefits which afflictions are fitted to produce .'' I would 
 answer, have a care how you enter the furnace. Resolve in 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 413 
 
 the beginning and on the first tokens of approaching trials, 
 that you will bear, patiently and meekly whatever the Lord 
 appoints. Patience and meekneps are ornaments of great 
 price in the Christian character. Remember that you are in 
 the hands of Almighty God, and that He has a perfect right 
 to do with you according to His pleasure. But look upon 
 Him, also, as one possessing infinite wisdom, and who is 
 absolutely good, and, therefore, best qualified to determine 
 how long and how severely you should be tried. Put on the 
 Christian armor, and await the coming charge. Rest thee 
 confidently on the staff of His promises, and lay hold upon 
 His strength. Never allow even a silent murmur or regret to 
 rise in your heart, and give no place to suggestions of un- 
 belief. If the devil should tempt you with hard thoughts of 
 the Divine Being, bid him to get behind thee. If a timid 
 nature would generate fears, lean trustingly on Christ. Satan 
 may tempt the child of God, and tell him that it is because 
 he has no piety, and because God does not love him, that he 
 afflicts ; but this should not shake his faith. " Happy is the 
 man whom God correcteth ; therefore, despise not thou the 
 chastenings of the Lord." " For he maketh sore and bindeth 
 up ; he woundeth, and his hands make whole." 
 
 There is nothing more common than to find persons 
 severely afflicted, or painfully bereaved, who suppose that God 
 is angry with them. They regard their trials as evidences 
 of His displeasure. Now such a view is totally opposed to 
 the declarations of Scripture. " Whom the Lord loveth He 
 chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth." 
 35* 
 
414 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 " If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with 
 sons." "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten." In 
 the language of Massillon — "the more God afflicteth, the 
 greater is His love and His watchfulness over you. Now 
 what more consoling in our sufferings ! God seeth me ; He 
 nurabereth my sighs ; He weigheth mine afflictions ; He 
 beholdeth my tears to flow ; He raaketh them subservient to 
 my eternal sanctification. Beloved sufferings, which in 
 depriving me of all human aids, restore me to God, and 
 render Him mine only resource in all my sorrows." If, then, 
 these afflictions are administered in love, we should receive 
 them with a meek and quiet spirit. Imitate the patience of 
 Jesus, whose lips never uttered a murmur, and whose heart 
 never throbbed with an emotion of complaint, even under 
 those crushing sorrovrs which He endured for a world's 
 redemption. He was patient and lamb-like, and with the 
 help of His spirit we may exhibit a like resignation to the 
 Divine will. This is what the apostle calls " being exercised 
 thereby in righteousness." And then will "these light afflic- 
 tions, which endure but for a moment, not be worthy to be 
 compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." 
 "For they work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory." 
 
 Bereavements are also eminently fitted to try the character 
 of our faith. " Blessed is the man that endureth temptation ; 
 for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life which 
 the Lord hath promised to them that love him." " That the 
 trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 415 
 
 perish eth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto 
 praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus 
 Christ." Ahhough we may have conclusive evidence of 
 the existence of a living faith in Jesus Christ, we cannot in 
 health, and amid the smiles of Providence, form a just con- 
 ception of the strength of our faith. The tree may stand 
 well when the atmosphere is calm ; but it will depend upon 
 the depth and firmness of its hold in the earth whether it will 
 abide firmly amid the war and conflict of the elements. And 
 so faith may appear to possess all the requisite properties for 
 its endurance amid disturbing causes, but it is only when 
 it is subjected to some fiery ordeal that the believer can 
 know what maturity it has attained, and to what depth it is 
 rooted in the promises and immutability of God. As long 
 as a kind Providence smiles, and all things go well with us, 
 it is not difficult to trust in God ; for there is no room even 
 for a feeble faith to question the Divine goodness, so long as 
 the outspread wings of the angel of the covenant defend us, 
 and protect our families and homes from suffering and blight. 
 But if the beaming countenance of a reconciled Father be 
 covered with a cloud, and Providence frowns, and the hand 
 of God withers our beautiful things, and we are overwhelmed 
 with darkness and desolation, then, if our faith burns the 
 brighter because of the surrounding gloom, we have assurance 
 that it lays hold on eternal life. For if it keeps the soul 
 fixed and trusting amid such scenes, then it is not the off- 
 spring of fancy, but is founded in the Divine perfections. It 
 has come from God ; and in its outflows it pass^^s beyond all 
 
416 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 subordinate means, and gathers within its embrace the Rock 
 of ages, into whose clefts it is rooted, and from \Yhich it 
 draws its nourishment and life ; and will, therefore, endure 
 as long as that Rock stands the pillar of salvation. If 
 detached from all human helpers, and from our own strength 
 we cling only " to the Rock that is higher than we are," we 
 shall abide unshaken amid the severance of the fondest rela- 
 tions ; and above the cries of our breaking hearts and the 
 throes of our dissolving nature will rise the song of triumph, 
 because our redemption is fully come. Such should be the 
 Christian's faith — a faith that gathers energy from the wreck 
 of his earthly hopes. And such will be the character of that 
 faith which is grounded upon the veracity of Jehovah, and 
 born of the Spirit, and baptized in the blood of atonement. 
 It wdll rise like a luminous pillar to the throne of glory, and 
 fill the soul with joy, when nothing is left us but God. 
 
 Bereavements should also breathe a mellowing light upon 
 the Christian character. Their tendency, if not resisted, is 
 evidently calculated to make us heavenly-minded, and to 
 bring us into closer communion with the Saviour. The trials 
 of life should so act upon our Christian graces as to cause 
 them to send out their fragrance to refresh the more feeble in 
 faith, and to proclaim the glory of Divine grace. 
 
 " The good are better made by ill — 
 As odors crush'd are sweeter still." 
 
 'Affliction is the good man's shining scene; 
 Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; 
 As night to stars, wo lustre gives to man." 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 417 
 
 And that we may glorify God in our sufferings, let us yield 
 up our all to Him, and cast ourselves upon Hirn as our all- 
 sufficient helper. If our souls are animated with His love, 
 and our scattered thoughts and affections be made to circle 
 and glow around the cross, our life will become beautiful 
 with holiness ; and with a quiet and submissive spirit we can 
 say — 
 
 "Heart, be still! 
 In tlie darkness of thy -wo 
 Bow thee, silently and low ; 
 Comes to thee whate'er God will ; — 
 
 Be thou still ! 
 
 Be thou still ! 
 Vainly all thy words are spoken, 
 Till the word of God hath broken 
 Life's dark mysteries, good or ill, 
 
 Be thou still ! 
 
 Lord, my God ; 
 By thy grace, may I be 
 All-submissive silently, 
 To the chastenings of thy rod, 
 
 Lord, my God. 
 
 Shepherd, King ! 
 From thy fulness, grant to me 
 Still, yet fearless faith in thee 
 Till, from night the day shall spring, 
 
 Shepherd, King !" 
 
 Come then, ye bereaved and desolate souls, with your 
 humble brother, once more to the sepulchres of our departed. 
 
418 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 Here let us realize that the Eternal God is our portion, that 
 the arm which controls the resources of the universe, is 
 stretched forth for our support and defence. Let us, then, 
 say to our beloved ones. Rest in peace — God hath soothed 
 our sorrows, and lifted our eyes and hearts to that home 
 where your spirits rejoice. Dear departed ones, we will still 
 revisit your sepulchres ; but not to lament that God has 
 taken you to Himself, but to commune with you, for it is good 
 for us to be here." Yea, even now we seem to hear you 
 speak to us from your silent abodes. 
 
 " Ye good distressed ! 
 Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand 
 Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, 
 And what your bounded view, which only saw 
 A little part, deem'd eyil, is no more ; 
 The storms of wintry time will quickly pass, 
 And one immortal spring encircle all." 
 
 And amid these hallowed scenes, let us bow in the name 
 of Immanuel to breathe together our final prayer. Great 
 God ! accessible to us through thy Son, it is at Thy footstool 
 we kneel to breathe our sad and sorrowful prayer. Thy 
 hand hath smitten us, but we will kiss that hand, for infinite 
 wisdom commanded, and infinite goodness controlled that 
 stroke. Our hearts lie bleeding before thee — heal them with 
 the balm of Thy love! Our spirits are crushed — breathe 
 upon them Thy quickening grace ! Alas ! we murmured, 
 because we understood not Thy dealings with us. But 
 henceforth we will say, " Thy will be done." We repent 
 31* 
 
DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 419 
 
 of all our repinings, of our doubts and unbelief, of our 
 wanderings from Thee, and of our seeking consolation apart 
 from Thy favor and promises. And we fervently beg, tliat 
 ours may be the blessedness of those whose sins are forgiven, 
 and whose iniquities are pardoned. Our deceitful hearts 
 have clung to vain hopes, and to vain desires. Our affec- 
 tions were set upon objects frail as the flowers of the field. 
 We loved too much this world, and now that Thou hast 
 stricken with death those whom we idolized, we have been 
 taught that Thou wilt not yield to another Thy rightful 
 place in our affections. Merciful God! divorced from all 
 earthly things, join our souls to Thee. Lord, make us wholy 
 Thine, and whatever Thou dost take away, give Thyself to us 
 and fill us with Thy fulness. Give u.s a faith that pierces 
 these clouds, and that views the paradise above ; — a faith all- 
 conquering, a love unfeigned, and a hope as an anchor to 
 the soul, both sure and steadfiist, and that entereth within 
 the veil. And O ! thou adorable Lamb of God, our com- 
 passionate Redeemer, wash our souls in the fountain of Thy 
 blood, that we may one day praise Thee in robes of white. 
 May Thy presence go with us through this vale of tears, 
 and in death be our portion. Commission the spirits of our 
 sainted to conduct us to Thy throne. And on the morning 
 of that day, when Thou comest on Thy great white throne, 
 and all who are in their graves shall hear Thy voice, grant 
 us a part in the resurrection of the just. And when 
 ushered into Thy glory, may we find all our families and 
 
420 DARKNESS TURNED TO LIGHT. 
 
 friends in Thy kingdom, that unitedly we may gather the 
 blessings of a happy immortality by the River of Life. 
 And unto Thee the Father, and unto Thee the Son, and unto 
 Thee the Holy Ghost, be honor, glory, and dominion, world 
 without end. Amen. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTIETH. 
 
 GRAVE -YARDS AND CEMETERIES, OR THE CLAIMS 
 OF THE DEAD UPON THE LIVING, AND THE CARE 
 WHICH SHOULD BE BESTOWED UPON THE PLACES 
 OF THEIR REPOSE. 
 
 *' Lips I have kiss'd, ye are faded and cold ; 
 Hands I have press'd, ye are covered with mould ; 
 Form I have clasp'd, thou art crumbling away, 
 And soon on thy bosom my breast I shall lay. 
 Friends of my youth, I have witnessed your bloom, 
 Shades of the dead, I have wept at your tomb . 
 Tomb, I have wreathes, I have flowers for thee, 
 But who will e'er gather a garland for me ?" 
 
 "We have not discharged all the offices of friendship and 
 affection which we owe to the departed, when we have con- 
 signed " ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," anoid the solemni- 
 ties of our holy religion. There are other duties which we 
 owe them, the performance of which cannot be neglected 
 without seriously reflecting upon our character as individuals, 
 and upon our piety as Christians. To give them a Christian 
 burial is a simple duty ; to cherish and perpetuate their 
 memory are marks of esteem. Our beneficent Creator has for 
 36 (421) 
 
422 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 wise purposes implanted in all human bosoms the desire to be 
 remembered by the living, when they shall sleep in the dust. 
 And as none can be indifferent whether they have, or have 
 not, a place in the aflfections of those whom they love, so 
 they are also conscious of a like solicitude to retain their hold 
 upon the memory of friends after their present relations with 
 this life have been dissolved. And as it would be painful to 
 us personally were we assured that we would be forgotten 
 and neglected after our removal from this world, we should 
 be careful that such is not the doom of our departed ones. 
 In this, as well as in every other particular, should we bring 
 the force of that law which is very properly styled the golden 
 rule, to bear upon our conduct: "Do unto others as ye 
 would have others do unto you." And as the wish is foreign 
 to all properly constituted minds, and in conflict with the 
 yearnings of all affectionate hearts, that when quitting the 
 busy scenes and fond circles of earth, those whom they 
 cherished should cease to speak gently of them, and not recall 
 whatever of goodness pertained to their character ; thus, also, 
 we should not allow the memory of our sainted to be clouded 
 with any uncharitable thoughts, or marred by unkind associa- 
 tions or w^ords:. The suggestions of reason, and the lessons 
 of religion enjoin the obligation to commit their faults and 
 imperfections with their bodies to the grave, and to enshrine 
 within the sanctuary of our souls all that was attractive and 
 pleasant in their history. The images of our departed should 
 always be images of beauty, and these will grow in loveliness 
 and grace in proportion as we are successful in the combination 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 423 
 
 of those intellectual, social, and moral, excellencies which 
 adorned their lives. For while it is a humiliating fact that 
 in the purest and most exalted forms of human character 
 there are many visible defects, yet even our fallen nature is 
 seldom found to be such a barren soil as not to produce some 
 flowers. And not only should we gather up and combine as 
 we would scattered gems, the virtues of those who were 
 intimately related to us, but of those, also, who were joined 
 to us by no other ties than those which the social law creates, 
 or such bonds as are the offspring of a common humanity. 
 For many of the most distinguished dead are known to us 
 only in the results of their labors, and in the blessings with 
 which they enriched mankind ; but they are, therefore, 
 worthy of our sympathy and regard. And the same con- 
 siderations which would prevent us from thinking or speak- 
 ing unkindly of those who have entered the spirit-landj 
 should induce us to hold their reputations sacred, that we 
 may vindicate their character when assailed, with an energy 
 equal to that with which we would repel a wicked or mischiev- 
 ous charge against ourselves. Happily this is not often neces- 
 sary, since comparatively few even of the viler sort of men are 
 sufficiently heartless to be altogether destitute of respect for 
 those who have passed away from among the living. It 
 demands such a viciousness of character, and such malignity 
 of disposition, that, even in this degenerate world, society 
 is not afflicted, w^ith any considerable number of these 
 cowardly revilers. And yet history and experience do 
 furnish instances where men, eminent for their virtues, and 
 
424 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 illustrious for their varied and large benefactions, were after- 
 wards the subjects of abuse and defamation. None are 
 more liable to suffer reproaches of this kind than the disciples 
 of the Redeemer, Nvho, in proportion to their devotion to 
 the cause of their Master, and the purity of their lives, 
 excite the evil passions of the wicked. The children of God 
 have always had their enemies, " for all who live godly in Christ 
 Jesus shall suffer persecution." And it seems as though it were 
 not enough for wicked hands to plant thorns in the path of the 
 just through life, since they sometimes manifest a disposition 
 to disturb their repose in the grave. But to speak 
 maliciously and falsely of the departed is a crime equally 
 abhorrent with that of violating their dust. 
 
 But as there have been thousands of minds employed in 
 framing aspersions and blasphemies, and tongues ever ready 
 to utter them against the holy name of our adorable Re- 
 deemer, it is not marvelous that such should take delight in 
 traducing the characters of those who are distinguished 
 for their piety. Does not the conceited and miserable skep- 
 tic, the man of a weak intellect and a foul heart, sneer at the 
 Old Testament saints, because of their recorded imperfections, 
 which they deplored, and of which they heartily repented ? 
 just as though the sun could have no dark spots upon its 
 broad disc, and yet fill the universe with light! And to 
 what conclusion would the honest reader be driven, were 
 they paraded on the sacred page as beings of immaculate 
 purity ? Assuredly would we be forced to adjudge the 
 "ecord to be false ; or constrained to regard them, not as 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 425 
 
 depraved human beings, struggling against their corruptions, 
 in their ascent to light and glory out of that moral abyss into 
 which sin had cast them ; but as unfallen or angelic creatures. 
 It is truly wonderful, that with their limited advantages of 
 knowledge and revelation, they should have risen to such an 
 exalted eminence, where their characters have stood out con- 
 spicuously to the eyes of centuries so luminous with moral 
 glory, that their imperfections are altogether lost in the efful- 
 gence of their virtues, and would not be known at all, but 
 for that honest confession and statement which they have left 
 us of their own delinquencies. And is it not a matter of 
 profound gratulation with all upright men, that, notwithstand- 
 ing the force of so many circumstances adverse to the attain- 
 ment of a high degree of moral excellence, they have fur- 
 nished the world with such models of piety as have seldom 
 been equalled and never surpassed, by later and more favored 
 generations. And as the voice of calumny has attempted to 
 darken the character of the spotless Son of God, and laborious 
 efforts have been called forth from master intellects, to divest 
 His miracles and discourses of all their marks of Divinity ; 
 and as the venomous tongue of slander has sought to obscure 
 the lives of the ancient saints and martyrs, and attempted to 
 depreciate the excellence of all those "of whom the world 
 was not worthy," and who now " shine as the brightness of 
 the firmament ;" thus, also, may those who have lived in 
 our generation, but who have fallen asleep in Jesus, be 
 assailed by the enemies of the cross. And should we be 
 cognizant of such instances, we owe it to them, and to the 
 36* 
 
426 GRAVE-YARDS- AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 cause of our holy religion, to vindicate their characters, and 
 to repel those assaults which they have no longer the power 
 to meet and to refute. But as I have already intimated, it is 
 but seldom that we may be required to speak in defence of 
 the departed. 
 
 But there is another method by which we can silently, but 
 effectually, proclaim our veneration and love for those who 
 have entered their rest, and that is by exhibiting a proper 
 regard for those places where their remains repose. The 
 sepulchres of our departed should be treated with profound 
 respect. They should be marked with such memorials as we 
 may be able to rear, and kept in such a condition, that they 
 show no signs of forgetfulness or neglect on the part of the 
 living. The law which governs those kind remembrances of 
 the sainted that linger in our hearts, always has a tendency 
 to externalize what is inwardly present in some tangible 
 outward forms. And by this means, the cords of affection 
 which unite us to those who have passed into eternity, 
 will remain healthy and active until they have drawn us 
 into blissful reunion with our loved ones in heaven. And 
 this leads me to the more important and prominent part of 
 the subject of this chapter, viz: the duty of the living, 
 properly to care for the sepulchres of their departed. To a 
 refined and cultivated mind, there is not a more mournful 
 spectacle on earth than a desecrated, grave, or a neglected 
 and over-grown grave-yard. It evokes from the soul of fine 
 sensibilities, emotions aptly pictured by the briars and 
 thorns which cover it. It indicates such a want of taste and 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 427 
 
 propriaty, an absence of affection on the part of the 
 living, for the dead, so unnatural and so manifestly in oppo- 
 sition to the lessons of Christianity, that it is difficult to 
 account for such a singular perversion of those humane and 
 sacred principles, with which human society is instinct. And 
 while we conceive it to be manifestly wrong, and calculated 
 to reflect unfavorably upon the community, where such 
 neglect of the dead is witnessed ; it is not to be presumed 
 that they wish to show any intentional disrespect for their 
 friends ; on the contrary, it is to be inferred, that it is solely 
 because their attention has not been specially directed to the 
 subject. It was the frequent and melancholy spectacle of 
 dilapidated tombs and neglected grave-yards which fell under 
 my notice in various sections of our land, together with the 
 hope of doing something towards removing the evil, that first 
 suggested to me the propriety of preparing a volume on the 
 subject of these pages. 
 
 The inhabitants of our large cities and populous towns 
 have wisely adopted the precaution of laying-out and improv- 
 ing cemeteries at a distance sufficiently remote from the 
 activities of business, to secure their dead against those un- 
 pleasant changes of place which the expansion of business 
 sometimes demands. In many instances have the dead 
 been removed to these places, where, it is hoped, they 
 will be permitted to repose undisturbed until Christ shall 
 call them from the tomb. The appropriation of ground 
 consecrated by the sleeping dust of former generations 
 to other uses, should be undertaken with great deliber- 
 
428 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 ation, and consummated in the most delicate and sacred 
 manner. For it is a well-known fact, that some such 
 changes have been attended with very painful feelings to 
 those whose circumstances did not enable them to provide a 
 second grave for those whom they fondly cherished, or who 
 were not apprised that the public authorities had in contem- 
 plation the conversion of old grave-yards to other purposes 
 until after it was accomplished ; and, therefore, they had no 
 opportunity to remove the remains of their friends. There 
 sleeps now the dust of a venerable minister of God under- 
 neath tlie walks of one of the most beautiful squares in one 
 of our large cities. And many others in the same place are 
 trodden upon by the thoughtless multitude. Whatever con- 
 siderations may be alleged in favor of such changes (and we 
 believe there are generally good and pressing reasons before 
 public sentiment would sanction them), it is assuredly painful 
 to know that the form of a venerable parent, or a devoted 
 friend, is continually insulted by the tread of a busy world. 
 And if the health of the city and other considerations are 
 absolute in their demands for such changes, then should the 
 remains of all the dead be removed, at the public expense, 
 to some suitably-prepared place where they may remain un- 
 molested. And it affords me sincere pleasure to state that 
 a few instances have come to my knowledge where the con- 
 stituted authorities made the necessary provision for the 
 decent re-interment of those who were raised, and ordered the 
 transfer of the dead to their new abodes to be conducted in 
 a becoming manner, and in strict conformity with the dictates 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 429 
 
 of humanity, and the suggestions of our holy religion. And 
 equally agreeable is it to the writer to record with gratitude 
 to the Divine Being, and to those through whose instru- 
 mentality those retreats of the dead were so handsomely' 
 fitted up and so tastefully adorned, the pleasure and profit he 
 has experienced in his visits to those cemeteries in and 
 around Philadelphia. It is highly gratifying to witness 
 so much skill, taste, and afTection exhibited in the many 
 beautiful and appropriate monuments erected there to 
 departed worth and excellence. 
 
 The locations are generally well, and some of them 
 admirably chosen. The arrangements of the lots, walks, 
 enclosures, and adornments, all abundantly bespeak the 
 cultivated, the excellent and liberal spirit of the families 
 who have there laid the treasures of their affection. 
 But as I shall more parlicularly speak in another place 
 of the propriety of beautifying the abodes of the dead, 
 I will return to the matter of neglecting these sacred places. 
 There may be, and doubtless are, many places even in our 
 cities where little attention is shown to the graves of departed 
 friends ; but in smaller towns, and through the country, 
 it is often with an oppressive sadness that we are forced 
 to view the dreary and cheerless aspect of the place 
 where the dead repose. There is one of these ancient grave- 
 yards which I visited on one occassion, that may afford a 
 pretty accurate picture of others in different localities. It 
 was a place of some interest, since pure and good men, 
 and persons of distinction, were buried there. There were 
 
430 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 also marked indications of antiquity about it. Many years 
 had evidently elapsed since the last sluraberer was received 
 within its bosom ; and few, if any, of the families that repose 
 there have representatives among the living. It was with 
 some difficulty that we could enter ; and in passing through 
 it, my heart was filled with mournful emotions, because 
 it was in sympathy with those who had been blotted from the 
 memory of the living. Near the entrance there were a few 
 slabs in a tolerable state of preservation ; and with some 
 effort we spelt out the names of those who had been the owners 
 of those princely estates which were lying within the range 
 of our vision. And as we passed on, we came to others that 
 had fallen prostrate to the earth ; and the letters which made 
 up their brief history were altogether effaced. A few of the 
 slabs were entire, but most of them were broken ; and all 
 sadly injured by the wasting influence of time. The graves 
 were sunken ; thorns, briars, and thistles grew in wild 
 luxuriance upon them ; and the only spot not overrun by 
 them was under a wide-spreading oak, where a group of 
 noisy children were playing, giving a yet deeper shade to the 
 melancholy picture of neglect which marked that holy 
 ground ; and it seemed as though there issued from those 
 sunken and neglected mounds reproachful utterances, saying, 
 " We have nourished and brought up children, and they 
 have rebelled against us." 
 
 Although this is, perhaps, not a fair index of the general 
 appearance of grave-yards through the land, yet is there 
 scarcely a community where you would find a field upon any 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 431 
 
 of their farms, showing such signs of neglect as we often meet 
 with in the village church-yard. And even where the enclosures 
 are of a substantial character, and all the facilities for improve- 
 ment are at hand, there is too frequently a total absence of 
 all ornament. There is no willow or evergreen planted, no 
 myrtle grown on the graves, nothing to remind us of immor- 
 tality, and no living memorial that the sleepers are remem- 
 bered and loved. They are altogether unprotected from the 
 broiling sun of summer, and there is not an object to break or 
 soften the violence of the fiercely howling storm of winter. 
 
 There are many things which fall under the observation of 
 man, that are fitted to awaken his sympathy, and to fill his 
 mind with melancholy reflections ; but it may be safely 
 assumed, that, with a large majority of men, there is nothing 
 which appeals so strongly and mournfully to their hearts, as 
 the desolate and ruined condition of the consecrated enclo- 
 sure of the dead. A country depopulated and despoiled by the 
 ravages of war — a nation consumed by famine or wasted by 
 pestilence — or a city whose inhabitants have perished under 
 some terrible judgment of heaven ; all are eminently suited 
 to spread oppressive sensations over the contemplative mind ; 
 and yet is the feeling produced by such meditations not 
 so intensely sad, nor so darkly tinged, as that with which 
 we ponder a grave-yard in ruins. The travelers who move 
 amid those scenes where the glory of centuries lies in the 
 ashes at their feet, are conscious of the most profound and 
 touchingly beautiful sentiments of which the soul is capable, 
 even under the inspiration of the most stirring recollections. 
 
432 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 Even Volney, so heartless on many other occasions, seemed 
 to be moved with some exalted sentiments while wandering 
 amid the ruins of ancient cities ; insomuch that, in that 
 singular mixture of error and of darkness, " The Ruins," 
 there gleams occasionally a brilliant thought, and there flashes 
 sometimes a just and philosophical deduction. Who could 
 visit the ruins of Babylon, and recall her ancient glory ; 
 when she was the queen city of the east, and the haughty 
 mistress of nations — when her astrologers and soothsayers 
 thought they discovered such signs of permanency and 
 strength in the frame-work of her political structure, as justi- 
 fied the belief, that she would never share the fate of those 
 empires that had yielded to the slow but sure operations of 
 the silent laws of mutation which reduce all earthly great- 
 ness to the dust, and not be filled with profound sensations 
 of regret as he contrasted her former splendor with her 
 present ruins? Once the renowned centre of refinement and 
 learning ; the home of Daniel and other illustrious men of 
 those times, but now her walls crumbled back to the earth, 
 her temples, and altars, and palaces, all mingling in a com- 
 mon ruin, and all her glory, except that which lingers on the 
 historic page, swept away by the wasting whirl of centuries, 
 and nothing remains but the sad lesson which rises from her 
 desolation, " the fashion of this world passeth away.'' 
 
 And what Christian can contemplate the ruins of the Holy 
 City, and of her temple, in which the worship of the true 
 God was celebrated with imposing solemnities, and of the 
 desecrated tombs of her prophets and kings, without 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 483 
 
 weeping around those venerable abodes of the dead, and 
 sharing the emotions of the scattered but patriotic exiles of 
 Palestine, who turn from all the ends of the earth with throb- 
 bing hearts and streaming eyes towards the sepulchres of 
 their fathers ? For, while no national sympathies invest 
 Palestine with a sacred memory to us, our holy religion was 
 cradled in Bethlehem, and went forth from Jerusalem ; and 
 this, therefore, has made that land which is enshrined in holy 
 song and consecrated by a Saviour's tears and blood, one of 
 peculiar sympathy and interest to us ; yet even that city, 
 from which flowed those streams of life of which we drink, is 
 not cherished by us with that affectionate regard which we 
 feel for that place where our departed repose. For while 
 many holy associations cluster around the land whose hills 
 and glens once resounded with the sublime effusions of the 
 sweet singer of Israel, and while it is memorable as the 
 place where Isaiah uttered his lofty predictions, and hallowed 
 as the scene where Jesus first unfolded the mysteries of 
 redemption ; there is still a destiny for that land, in the 
 womb of the future, far more resplendent with the awful and 
 visible glories of Deity, than its past history has yet furnished ; 
 for there shall the Son of God reappear in His glorified 
 humanity, and with all the investitures of universal royalty, 
 reign over " the ransomed of the Lord, who shall come to 
 Mount Zion with songs of deliverance and everlasting joy 
 upon their heads." For whether the reign of a thousand 
 years be regarded as literal or spiritual, there can be but one 
 opinion among believers in the truth of prophecy, as to the 
 37 
 
434 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 conversion of the Jews to Christianity, and their restoration 
 to their lost nationality. But fondly as we now linger in 
 thought around those scenes rendered illustrious as the 
 theatre of those amazing transactions which involved the 
 redemption of the world, and delightful as are the anticipated, 
 because prophetic glories which shall yet kindle upon the 
 hills of Palestine, and shed their effulgence over the reno- 
 vated earth; those graves which hold our kindred dust, 
 should inspire a yet deeper interest, since the same God has 
 promised that the glory of immortality shall kindle in those 
 dark mansions, and go out upon an eternity radiant with the 
 blessings of everlasting life. And those who admit the fact, 
 that these houses of clay which are dissolved by death, shall 
 be rebuilt, and those bodies raised and glorified shall bend 
 in solemn worship before King Emmanuel, will not deem it 
 a superfluous work, nor regard it an irksome task, to care 
 for, and beautify, the sepulchres of their departed. 
 
 But to render this part of the discussion more formal and, 
 if possible, more conclusive, I would urge the propriety and 
 duty of making the places where our beloved ones repose 
 attractive, and secure them from desecrating intrusions, 
 by considerations such as the following. 
 
 First, let us examine the relation which they sustain to us. 
 They were either venerable parents, beloved companions, 
 friends, or our own offspring. If parents, then, as children, 
 ^^•e are under solemn obligations to cherish their memory, and 
 to protect their ashes. They gave us existence, so that our 
 physical, intellectual, and to some extent our moral constitu- 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 435 
 
 tions, were immediately transmitted to us by them, as the 
 instruments of God. They watched over our helpless 
 infancy, and provided for all our natural and spiritual wants. 
 They taught us to know and to love God, and dedicated us 
 to His service. They conducted our infant feet to fountains 
 of knowledge, and opened to our wondering gaze mines of 
 intellectual wealth. They afforded us opportunities, and pro- 
 vided for us the means to store our minds with valuable 
 acquisitions. And convinced that an educated intellect, 
 freighted with the lore of ages, and clothed in the royal 
 robes of wisdom, but urged onward by the impulses of 
 -natural corruption, almost invariably blights and desolates 
 all that comes within the range of its tremendous and fear- 
 ful energy, while he whose mind and heart are alike tutored 
 and brought under the moulding and sanctifying power of 
 the Holy Spirit, will be fitted to cultivate and keep the para- 
 dise which may be committed to his trust ; they labored by 
 prayer, exhortation, and example, to possess us with that 
 intellectual and moral furniture necessary to our personal 
 happiness, and which would fit us to become benefactors of 
 our race. If, therefore, there is any fruit of excellence in 
 our lives, any energy of character, amiableness of disposition, 
 or devotion to good — any of those exalted characteristics 
 which qualify us for the noble functions of social beings, and 
 rank us among the successful, the honored, and useful 
 of mankind, w^e should regard all these as a legitimate 
 inheritance from our parents. Their hands planted the seed 
 of every excellence which may adorn our character ; and 
 
436 GKAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 when those seeds had germinated under the quickening 
 power of the Spirit won down upon us by their supplications, 
 they formed that atmosphere of purity, and sustained about 
 us that element of Divine life, which are absolutely essential 
 to crown the springing plants of grace with maturity, and to 
 beautify them with lasting glory. And in connection with 
 such reflections, we should also consider with what a wealth 
 of love they cherished us. The fountains of parental affec- 
 tion, have depths which no one has ever yet been able to 
 fathom. And behold how, under the force of that love, they 
 toiled long and laboriously, while they fervently prayed and 
 anxiously watched for our good. These considerations are 
 in themselves amply sufficient to induce a watchful care, and 
 to create a profound respect for the ashes of our fathers and 
 mothers who have gone down " into the house appointed for 
 all the living." 
 
 But a higher authority may be brought forward, and more 
 urgent reasons assigned, to establish this point. The first 
 commandment with promise is, " Honor thy father and thy 
 mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the 
 Lord thy God giveth thee." This command does not simply 
 require a respectful obedience to the wishes of parents during 
 our minority, and regard and protection when enfeebled by age, 
 but honor when they are dead. And do we not frequently 
 witness the visible fulfilment of the promise annexed to that 
 command in the distinguished blessings with which a 
 covenant-keeping God crowns the lives and labors of those 
 who honor their parents? And who does not commend the 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 437 
 
 spirit of those children who rear such memorials to 
 those " who nourished and brought them up," as their 
 circumstances will admit, and inscribe upon them affec- 
 tionate remembrances of their worth. And if the monument 
 be ever so simple, boasting of nothing but natural affection, 
 this itself will impart to it a far higher value than art or aught 
 else could bestow where love had been wanting. 
 
 A gentleman relates the following touching dialogue which 
 passed between himself and three children in a village grave- 
 yard. " A boy of about ten years of age was busily engaged 
 in placing sods of turf about a newly-made grave, while a girl, 
 a year or two younger, held in her apron a few roots of wild 
 flowers. The third child, still younger, was sitting on the 
 grass watching with thoughtful look the movements of the 
 other two. The girl soon commenced planting some of her 
 wild flowers around the head of the grave, when the stranger 
 addressed them : 
 
 " ' Whose grave is this, children, about "which you are so 
 busily engaged ?' 
 
 " ' Mother's grave, sir,' replied the boy. 
 
 " ' And did your father send you to plant these flowers 
 around your mother's grave?' 
 
 "'No, sir; father lies here, too, and little William, and 
 sister Jane. 
 
 " ' Then who told you to do this ?' 
 
 " ' Nobody, sir,' replied the girl. 
 
 " ' Then why do you do it .'" 
 
 " ' Oh, we do love them, sir.' 
 37 
 
488 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 " ' Then you put these grass turfs and wild flowers where 
 your parents are laid because you love them ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' they all replied." 
 
 This beautiful exhibition of children honoring their 
 deceased parents shows that it is possible for all to place 
 some memorial of affection upon the graves of those they 
 love ; if nothing else, we can plant a wild flower, that it may 
 bloom there, or a tree, in whose branches the fowls of 
 heaven may warble carols over our venerated dead. 
 
 But if they are the bosom friends, the companions of our life, 
 a wife or a husband, that we mourn, then affection prompts 
 us, and the remembrance of plighted faith, and a still existing 
 spirit-union enjoin a proper care for the places of their repose. 
 The adorning of their sepulchres alleviates our grief, and 
 soothes the wounded heart. It also ministers gratification 
 and comfort to the bereaved when they know that the 
 embellishments of the grave of their beloved arrest the 
 attention of the stranger, and cause him to pause and learn 
 the name of one who shared so laigely in the love of others ; 
 and his ascending sighs assure us that his sympathies have 
 been enlisted in behalf of the parties who once rejoiced in 
 such wealth of affection as is unfolded in memorials to the 
 departed. 
 
 And equally strong is that bond of union which united us 
 to those little ones who were once the light aiid joy of our 
 nome-circles, but who, like fragrant blossoms, soon dropped 
 into the grave. And what offering would a devoted heart 
 withhold from a beloved child? Who would not place some 
 
GRAVE- YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 489 
 
 symbol oi" affection or innocence on the little grave. Let the 
 heartless, the cold and calculating worlding, whose sympathies 
 are with his gold, or the unsubdued and unafflicted skeptic, 
 sneer and ask his silly question, " to what is this waste upon 
 mouldering dust ? " fool! what does he know of holy love, 
 of a broken heart, or a desolated soul ? Let those who are 
 destitute of the finer sensibilities of our nature, and who 
 are vulgarly gross in their feelings, ridicule the devotion of 
 fond natures — we thank those children, those widowed com- 
 panions, and those bereaved parents, for beautifying the 
 sepulchres of their departed. Against expenditures in honor 
 of the dead, heaven has uttered no prohibitions, and 
 earth is not injured, but benefited, by them. All those 
 beautiful emblems which adorn the many tombs around 
 which we have lingered, and all those affectionate records 
 upon them, have always assured us that we are in a world of 
 warm and loving hearts. Were it possible, we would write 
 every excellence, paint every feature, and breathe all the 
 animation of the painter's pencil and the sculptor's chisel 
 upon the memorial reared to our beloved. 
 
 And such is not the feeling of an individual or of an age, 
 but a sentiment as wide-spread and universal as our human- 
 ity has extended. Nations of the highest antiquity laid out 
 their skill in adorning the sepulchres of their friends, whether 
 they moved in humble or exalted life. The labors of Lay- 
 ard among the ruins of Nineveh have brought under the 
 inspection of mankind many interesting specimens of ancient 
 sculpture, which corroborate the truth of this statement. 
 
440 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 The Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and indeed all nations, 
 have acted in this from a common impulse ; and by 
 their example sanctioned the custom, and thus established 
 the fact that the dictates of Nature lead us to honor the dead, 
 so that the relation which we sustainetl to those we loved 
 rises into the dignity of a law, which makes it our duty to 
 care for the sepulchres of our departed. 
 
 The lessons of religion also inculcate the duty which we 
 have been endeavoring to enforce. It was the custom among 
 the Jews to provide imposing and expensive funeral 
 obsequies for their deceased, and to rear attractive monu-^ 
 ments at the public cost to those citizens that were 
 distinguished in their commonwealth either in civil or eccle- 
 siastical life. And while the state showed becoming respect 
 to men of eminent worth, individuals frequently prepared 
 costly tombs for themselves and families while they were yet 
 living. Although this was the practice for many genera- 
 tions, yea, for centuries, God, who never failed through His 
 prophets to reprove them for whatever wrong they committed, 
 never uttered a word of disapprobation against this custom ; 
 and it is, therefore, our privilege to claim for it the Divine 
 sanction. Instead of being attended with any deleterious 
 consequences, it is fraught with many blessings, since it can- 
 not fail to exert a highly beneficial influence upon society. 
 Such honor and respect shown to the dead often give birth 
 to noble purposes and to exalted determinations in the minds 
 of the rising generation. When a youth reads the excellen- 
 cies of the departed chronicled upon the marble, and hears 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 441 
 
 men recount the worth of a public or private citizen, this 
 very act may implant the germ of future greatness and of 
 honorable distinction. For a great idea or a high resolve 
 carries within itself an inspiration that will wake all the 
 powers of the soul into sublime activity; so that those hidden 
 energies which would have slumbered on, had not some out- 
 ward circumstance given birth to that thought, are destined 
 to unfold in large benefits to the world, and in brilliant 
 honors to the individual. Thus the interests of patriot- 
 ism, of philanthropy, and of religion, are subserved and 
 advanced by those adornments of the sepulchre which con- 
 tracted and selfish natures pronounce extravagant or man- 
 worship. And in like manner are all the social and family 
 feelings strengthened and beautified, and human nature 
 improved in all that ennobles man by attention to the graves 
 of the departed. 
 
 Would you then fill your country with patriots and citizens 
 who will lay their best energies and talents upon the altar of 
 their country, and if need be, pour out their blood at the 
 shrines of freedom as an oblation to their country's glory .'' 
 Would you draw from the seclusions of private life, men of 
 noble endowments, of undoubted integrity, and true to the 
 interests of the country, into legislative halls, into the Senate, 
 the Cabinet, and the chair of State ? Then suffer not ingrati- 
 tude and forgetfulness to mark your actions in relation to 
 those who have discharged with ability and fidelity, the high 
 functions of those stations in civil life. A great intellect is 
 conscious of its birthright to immortality. And while its 
 
442 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 mighty energies are marshalled to arduous toil, its exertions 
 are pleasant, and its results great in proportion as its labors 
 are appreciated. To toil uncheered, and to be doomed to 
 neglect and forgetfulness as soon as we are dead, would be 
 reflections in themselves sufficiently potent to quench the 
 ardor, and to paralyze the intellectual machinery of the great- 
 est mind in whose eye there flames not yet an immortal 
 crown. And although the Christian may labor with success, 
 and with some degree of cheerfulness, when he enjoys the 
 approbation of his conscience, and the favor of his God, yet 
 is he greatly aided, and his labors wonderfully facilitated, by 
 the approving smiles of those who appreciate his efforts for 
 the good of mankind. No mind is injured by a just appre- 
 ciation of its exertions for the public good ; but it may be 
 bound with leaden manacles by cold neglect. What other 
 man would submit to such trials and privations as those of 
 Washington, were the Father of our country now unhonored 
 and ansung? And whatever be the force of those higher 
 motives which heaven inspires — whatever amount of po- 
 tency they may have acquired in the Christian's mind, he 
 is still human, and although he seeks not for empty applause, 
 yet is he cheered and stimulated to still greater efforts, by 
 the gratitude and love of those for whose good he toils. 
 Would Howard have traveled over kingdoms, and visited all 
 the foul prisons they contained, had those prisoners whom he 
 befriended in the first few instances, cast on him sullen looks, 
 spurned his proffered consolations, and turned from him v>'ith 
 a scowl upon their countenance, and curses upon their lips.'' 
 
GllAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 443 
 
 Ah ! it was because their stern features were relaxed and 
 glowed with joy, and their eyes flowed with tears of gratitude, 
 that he did fly on swift wing, that he might carry his 
 consolations to others who were wretched. And who can 
 ' doubt that his eminent success with the guilty and wretched, 
 and the charms of that music which issued from contrite hearts, 
 won not only his life and fostune to that work of benevolence, 
 but induced many others to follow in his footsteps. It is 
 because his efforts were appreciated, and his memory is 
 honored, that many others, from no higher impulses than 
 those of humanity, have chosen for themselves a similar 
 vocation, and become a blessing to thousands of our race. 
 And the principle loses none of its force when brought from 
 piiblic into private life. A want of respect for the dead, and 
 a total disregard for the places of their repose, would exert a 
 debasing influence upon society. It would throw a blight 
 over all the relations of life, and weaken, if not utterly 
 destroy, every tie of affection. Treat the remains of. the 
 departed with neglect, suffer the enclosure where you 
 have deposited their ashes to be overgrown with weeds, and 
 the walls broken down, and you will place man, after the 
 vital spark has fled, upon the same basis which the inferior 
 animals occupy. It would assuredly degrade and brutalize 
 the feelings of society, did such a custom universally prevail. 
 It would diminish flie affection between parents and children, 
 for if the grave be a terminus at which all fond remem- 
 brance ceases, then the bond which unites thcrn loses its 
 
444 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 spirituality, and becomes altogether earthly, and partakes of 
 that weakness, and finally of that death, which is common to 
 all earthly things. But let grave-yards and cemeteries be 
 kept in good condition and improved ; let veneration for 
 such places become an element in the home education of our 
 offspring, and let it be an object on the part of their instruc- 
 tors on all suitable occasions, to inspire them with respect for 
 the departed, and the happy effect of such discipline and 
 instruction will be manifest in the tastefully decorated tombs 
 of their deceased friends, and also in the elevating and refi- 
 ning tendency upon their entire character. For we hold it 
 to be a truth which cannot be successfully controverted, that 
 if children are taught to gather flowers with their own little 
 hands, and weave garlands for the graves of their sainted 
 ones, this very act will awaken thoughts which will reach 
 to heaven, and produce such conversation as will embrace 
 in its topics that which is fitted above all things else, to 
 expand and purify the mind ; and what is equally important, 
 is, that the heart under such culture will be prepared for the 
 reception of those lessons of Christianity, which are to trans- 
 form it into the image of Christ, and at last conduct it to 
 everlasting life. 
 
 The condition of a grave-yard is, generally speaking, a 
 very good index of the character of the community in which 
 it is located. And, if here I might suggest a lesson of advice, 
 I would say, have a care about your confidence, and interest, 
 and reputation among a people where you witness an air of 
 negligence and desolation overspreading the sacred enclosure 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 445 
 
 where their departed repose. Be assured that no pure afFec- 
 tions, no generous friendships, and no lofty principles are 
 enthroned in hearts whose sympathies are not embodied in 
 fitting memorials of the dead. They may affect to love you, 
 and profess a high esteem, as long as caprice or policy may 
 dictate ; but they will cast you off as they would a worthless 
 garment, when their own selfish ends can no longer be sub- 
 Sffived by your presence. Butterflies are never seen in the 
 storm ; and those who profess friendship for the living, and 
 yet neglect the dead, will prove false in the hour of 
 dark adversity. Has that young man who is within an hour 
 of a mother's grave, shed no tears there for months or years ? 
 Be not surprised if you should discover improprieties in his 
 conduct, nor amazed if he should become a heartless and 
 neglectful husband. Hearts that are worthy of the wealth of 
 true affection, are those whose vibrations extend into the 
 graves of their departed. 
 
 And if a church-yard be an exponent of the character of 
 the people in whose midst it is found, so is it also a standard 
 of their piety. That fine monuments may be constructed 
 and appropriate s.entiments may be inscribed upon them, by 
 those who have no experimental knowledge of salvation, is 
 unquestionably true ; but it is an exception, rather than a 
 rule. For w^e doubt not, that even those not professedly 
 pious who exhibit their regard for lost friends, are often 
 conscious of deep exercises of soul, and feel all the 
 strugglings of new-born desires in their hearts, which they 
 earnestly hope will issue in the regeneration of their nature. 
 38 
 
446 GRAVE-YxYRDS AND CExMETERIES. 
 
 And even where such raanifestalions rise no higher than the 
 human, they still atlbrd us the pleasing conviction that their 
 authors are susceptible of good impressions, because they are 
 the subjects of noble impulses. If even the motives of 
 some could not be commended, this does by no means im- 
 pair the correctness of the assertion, that the aspect of the 
 grave-yard affords a pretty accurate idea of the religious 
 sentiment of the community. Christianity has consecrated 
 the ashes of saints, not, indeed, in such a sense as to entitle 
 the departed to religious homage, or to justify any transactions 
 of this nature ; but so as to cause them to be reverenced in 
 such a manner as to secure them from neglect. An intimate 
 acquaintance with individuals who exhibited no interest in 
 those who had fallen asleep in Jesus, has not unfreqnently 
 left the conviction on the mind, that their piety was as 
 cheerless and unattractive as those places where their departed 
 reposed, and where grew the thorn, the nightshade, and the 
 thisde in wild luxuriance. Believe it, believe it, the religion 
 of heaven humanizes and sanctifies, while it is as diffusive as 
 the leaven, and will w^ork its way into all the actions of 
 the individual in whose heart it has. found a lodg- 
 ment. As the leaven operates silently, while it irresist- 
 ibly assimilates the meal to its own nature ; thus piety has a 
 silent influence, which acts and speaks far more impressively 
 than all the professions of the lip. And if anywhere, it is 
 visible in its beautifying effects, in its hopeful teachings, and 
 its glorious intimations ; it is in those manifestations of 
 symbols and flowers, and an air of loveliness, which it gives 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 447 
 
 to the whole aspect of the sepulchres of the departed in a 
 truly Christian community. 
 
 But there is another, and as I think, a much higher con- 
 sideration, which demands the recognition and discharge of 
 the duty which has been urged upon the living. I mean the 
 connexion which exists between believers and Christ. The 
 body of the saint is no longer common dust. It is no more 
 human nature totally degenerate and corrupt ; but human 
 nature regenerated, sanctified, and exalted into living union 
 with Jesus Christ, Leaving out of view any change or 
 advantage which may have been imparted to humanity as a 
 unit, by the incarnation of the Son of God, the nature of the 
 Christian holds a vital relation to the great Redeemer. This 
 is a necessary result from the intimate union which exists 
 between the body and the soul. The temple is sanctified 
 through the indwelling and pervading influences of the Holy 
 Spirit. Through faith the soul is restored to the favor of God, 
 and brought into fellowship with Christ. Or as Paul says, 
 the believer is engrafted upon Christ as the living stem, and 
 flourishes from the out-flows of grace which proceed from 
 Him, who is the author and finisher of our faith. Hence the 
 expressions which indicate " Christ as our life," as living in 
 Christ, and He in us, and as living by faith on the Son of 
 God. The Redeemer Himself has told us, " I am the vine, 
 ye are the branches; abide in me, and I in you." "If ye 
 abide in me, ye shall bear much fruit." And in like manner 
 do many of the Apostolic exhortations run. " Brethren, I 
 beseech you by the mercies of God, that ye present your 
 
448 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto Gon 
 which is }Our reasonable service." And so, also, does the 
 Apostle pray. " Wherefore I pray God, that He may sanctify 
 your whole body, and soul, and spirit." The same idea 
 is substantially conveyed in those discourses where he speaks 
 of the members of the believers' body, as instruments of 
 righteousness. The Christian is uniformly represented as a 
 member of Christ's mystical body, and holds the same relation 
 to Him as any one member of the human frame holds to the 
 body entire. And that there is a sanctifying influence exerted 
 upon the physical man, admits of no doubt. It could not be 
 otherwise, for we might as well attempt to show that it is 
 possible for a living member of our body not to be visited 
 with the flows of life from our hearts, as to maintain that the 
 physical nature of man is not animated with the influence of 
 divine grace. For the blood does not more thoroughly 
 circulate through all our mysterious framework, and through 
 all the members of the body, than the hallowed power of the 
 life of Christ in the believer pervades the entire man. This 
 is very forcibly expressed in that passage of the Apostle 
 where he says — "Ye are the temple of the Holy Ghost." 
 The body is that temple in which the awful presence of the 
 Godhead is manifested. The Lord Jesus assured His disci- 
 ples that He and the Father would come, and with the Spirit 
 make their abode in them. Thus saith the High and Lofty 
 One who inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell 
 in the high and holy place ; also with him who is of an 
 humble heart, and a contrite spirit." Now it is in virtue of 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEJVIETERIES. 449 
 
 this union with Jesus Christ", who, by his incarnation, death, 
 and resurrection, has not only purchased for our souls the 
 blessings of a glorious immortality, but has also given iis 
 assurance that our bodies shall be raised from the grave, and 
 participate in the blessed realities of eternal life. This temple 
 of the Holy Ghost is doomed to fall into a heap of ruins ; but 
 however long it may lie in that condition, it is still in unison 
 with Him who will one day reconstruct and invest it 
 with a more gorgeous glory than when first reared out 
 of the dust, and impart an indestructibility to its proper- 
 ties that will make it coexistent with the immortality of the 
 soul. " It were a light spirit which should not be overawed 
 amid the ruins of a temple, which should recognize nothing 
 solemn in the mouldering pile which it knew had once cano- 
 pied the more immediate presence of God, especially if it 
 further knew, that on some approaching day the ruins would 
 be reinstated in symmetry and strength, forming again a struc- 
 ture whose walls should be instinct with Deity, and from 
 whose recesses as from awful shrines should issue the voice 
 of the Eternal. The dead body is that fallen temple which 
 was consecrated on earth as the habitation of the Holy Ghost ; 
 it decays only that it may be more gloriously rebuilt, and that 
 God may dwell in it forever above. Therefore, it is no slight 
 impiety to show contempt or neglect of the dead." Such is 
 the eloquent language of a great and good man who had just 
 conceptions of the dignity of the human body. ! it is not 
 a spirit of pride or vain ostentation that we would call into 
 being and foster, by pleading for the departed, and by appro- 
 3S* 
 
450 GRAVE-YAEDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 priately adorning the places where we have laid our beloved , 
 but to awaken and strengthen those Christian sentiments and 
 those sublime hopes which invest with the sanctity of heaven, 
 the abodes of the dead. For the tomb of the Christian should 
 not be so much regarded as the "house of corruption and of 
 worms," as the refining crucible which shall yield up the 
 glorified form, all glowing with the lustre of a blessed immor- 
 tality. For that body, like a seed, carries with it into the 
 tomb, a germ which will be waked into immortal life and 
 beauty by the light of the resurrection morn. 
 
 The twelfth and thirteenth centuries were distinguished 
 for those protracted and bloody wars carried on between the 
 Christians and the Infidels, who were contending for the 
 possession of the Holy Land which contained the Sepulchre 
 in which the Lord Jesus had lain. It was customary in that 
 age to make pilgrimages lo the Holy Sepulchre, and it being 
 in the possession of the Mahomedan power, those individuals 
 who, under the influences of a mistaken piety felt it to be 
 their duty to visit, at least once in their life-time, the tomb 
 of Jesus, were often molested and even murdered by the 
 hostile power. This, in connexion with other circumstances, 
 led to those long and fearful conflicts which are familiarly 
 known as the Crusades. And such is the importance which 
 those of a corrupted Christianity attach to relics and sacred 
 places, that even quite recently the Holy Sepulchre was the 
 tlieme of diplomatic discussions, and has, or is, destined to 
 enter into the treaties of some of the European powers. 
 There is, unquestionably, a vast deal of superstition mixed 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 451 
 
 with those proceedings, forasmuch as there is no absolute 
 certainty as to the precise locahty of that sepulchre in which 
 our Lord was laid by the pious Arimathean, and even if this 
 were certain, that body which reposed there for a few days, 
 is now at the right hand of the Father. But if that tomb 
 were definitely known, would not thousands against whom 
 the charge of superstition could not lie with any force visit it ? 
 Or if it were accessible to us, who would not res^ard it as a 
 great happiness to weave garlands of flowers w'ith which to 
 adorn the enclosure that was once honored as the abode of 
 the pierced body of our exalted Redeemer? Ah! yes, we 
 would cherish the spot as a holy shrine, and lay out our skill 
 to clothe it with beautiful decorations, and lavish upon it 
 offerings of our gratitude. But our glorious Saviour has left 
 us His solemn declaration — " Whatsoever ye do to one of 
 the least of these my brethren, ye do unto me." The dust 
 of His saints is as precious to Him as His own body ; for it 
 is instinct with His life. His sleepless eye is ever upon it, 
 His Providence guards and defends it until the dawn of that 
 day when He shall recall it to life, and clothe it with glory. 
 That dust is ftir more precious in the eyes of the Lord, than 
 all the gold and gems on earth, and, therefore, honor and 
 respect shown to those who sleep in Jesus by beautifying the 
 places of their repose, is rendering honor to the Redeemer. 
 It is, therefore, in view of the estimate which Christ sets upon 
 the bodies of His people, and the promised and magnificent 
 destiny that awaits then, that we urge the duty of bestowing 
 proper attention upon those places where the " trump of the 
 
452 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 archangel will cause a stirring of life, and Christ shall win 
 new triumphs as the resurrection and the life." Let us, then, 
 ornament those holy scenes where our kindred repose, with 
 emblems of fond remembrance, and with tokens of that 
 glorious hope which will terminate amid the grandeurs of a 
 blissful eternity. 
 
 As a further legitimate proof of the propriety of caring for 
 the dead, I may also cite the example of the early Christians. 
 The customs of those upon whom the light of Apostolic ages 
 shone, are invested with a sacredness which usually secures 
 for them a high degree of respect ; so that they are departed 
 from, by those of like faith, only when the weightiest con- 
 siderations demand it. Ecclesiastical historians inform us that 
 the apostate Julian commended the early Christians for the 
 care which they bestowed upon the dead, and for the manner 
 in which they cherished them. Writers of the third and 
 fourth centuries inform us that they adopted the custom of the 
 Jews and Romans in the erection of monuments to their 
 departed. During those periods when the fires of persecution 
 raged most violently, they were excluded from the public 
 burying grounds, and, therefore, forced to dispose of those 
 who died in the most secret manner. To escape the notice 
 of their enemies, and to secure their departed from being' 
 disturbed, they constructed their sepulchres under ground. 
 " By far the greater number," says a writer on Christian 
 Antiquities, " of primitive Christians were buried in subterra- 
 nean sepulchres." "These served at once as their home 
 and their burying-place; and, as it was natural that they 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 453 
 
 should wish to have the bodies of their departed brethren 
 conveyed to the same peaceful and inviolable sanctuaries, it 
 became hrst from necessity, and afterwards from choice, the 
 approved and invariable practice to deposit their dead in 
 deep and obscure caverns. Among the monuments of 
 Christian antiquity, none are more singular than these abodes 
 of the dead ; and one feels at a loss whether most to admire 
 their prodigious extent, the laborious industry that provided 
 them, or the interesting recollections with w'hich they are 
 associated. Like the Moorish caves in Spain, they were 
 generally excavated at the base of a hill, and the entrance so 
 carefully concealed that no aperture appeared, and no traces 
 were discernible, except by an experienced eye, of the ground 
 having been penetrated, and of the vast dungeons that had 
 been hollowed underneath." But after the cessation of those 
 fiery trials through which the Church had fought her way, 
 when Christianity had gained the ascendency over Paganism, 
 and become the dominant religion in the Roman empire, they 
 fitted up and consecrated suitable places for this purpose 
 around their churches. And at a still later period the custom 
 of burying distinguished personages within the walls of the 
 church w^as established. That they bestowed great care 
 upon the tombs of their departed, and were accustomed to 
 embellish their grave-yards and erect costly monuments, is 
 evident from the reproofs which some of the clergy of that age 
 administered in several instances, where these things were 
 carried to a degree inconsistent with the spirit of their religion. 
 But while Chrysostom and several other Fathers rebuked the 
 
454 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 extent to which the decorations of those places were carried, 
 they never condemned the erection of appropriate memorials, 
 or the practice of showing other becoming honors to the 
 dead. 
 
 And finally another reason w'hy the fitting up of 
 cemeteries and the adorning of grave-yards should be 
 encouraged, is that drawn from the influence which these 
 things will exert upon the living. If these places are skil- 
 fully laid out, and the graves adorned in a tasteful and ap- 
 propriate manner, their cheerful aspect will divest death and 
 the tomb of a vast deal of that terror which is naturally 
 associated with them. There is something dark and forbid- 
 ding about the dissolution of the soul and body, which causes 
 human nature to shrink instinctively from it. Death 
 is- spoken of as the King of Terrors, and as a ruthless and 
 inexorable conqueror ; so that when sickness comes w'ith its 
 wasting power, and hope of recovery flies, man dreads the 
 approaching but inevitable moment when he must be brought 
 into immediate conflict with him. Ay, it is a solemn moment 
 when he steps into our path, and confronting us, bids us 
 surrender our breath. And yet it is not so much death itself 
 as that which is to follow, that makes men reluctant to die. 
 Not to dwell upon those solemn realities into which the 
 soul is about to enter as fitted to inspire us with profound 
 solemnity, if not whh dread, there are things this side the 
 circle of the eternal world which have their share in producing 
 this reluctance to depart. Among these is that forget- 
 fulness and gloom which are so frequently associated with 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 455 
 
 the grave. To lie alone in the earth — to slumber on in the 
 darksome tomb — to have none to come near and drop a tear 
 of affection, or plant a flower — to moulder silently back to 
 dust, and have briars and thorns grow upon my bosom, and 
 be trampled underneath the foot of the unconscious brute — 
 ah ! these thoughts and associations in connection with death, 
 are calculated to cloud the mind and to trouble the heart ; 
 and they are common where no Christian care is bestowed 
 upon the mansions of the dead. But we may throw a more 
 cheerful aspect over that solemn event which will sooner or 
 later terminate our earthly pilgrimage. And since death has 
 become a tremendous necessity, we should employ our skill 
 to clothe it with all the light, and all those softening aspects 
 which lie within the ability of the mind to command, that we 
 may divest it of all that is appalling to the soul. There are 
 a number of evils connected whh our removal to eternity, for 
 all of which, Christianity furnishes an antidote. We are 
 required to leave many things which we value, and many 
 objects which we love, and this would make death a mourn- 
 ful event, did not the religion of Christ enrich us with hopes 
 of far greater and nobler blessings. We must surrender 
 those pleasures which we derive from social intercourse with 
 those to whom we are intimately and fondly united ; but 
 we pass from the society of earth to mingle with the perfected 
 and glorified in heaven. And if we lack natural fortitude to 
 go down into the dark valley alone, we are furnished with 
 the needful grace for our final journey if we make application 
 to Him " who loved us, and gave Himself for us." Leanino- 
 
456 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 upon the strong staff of His promises, and enjoying His 
 gracious presence, we shall fear no evil. Being thus 
 fortified against all the painful incidents connected with death, 
 the Christian is perfectly reconciled to the change which he 
 must undergo. And if, in addition to these Divine influences, 
 we adorn the resting-places of the departed in such a manner 
 as to render them attractive, and so as to clothe them with an 
 air of cheerfulness ; the tomb is no longer an object of lK)rror, 
 but becomes a pleasant and delightful retreat for those who 
 have grown weary in life's pilgrimage. Who that has 
 a mind given to meditation, and has visited such places as 
 Auburn, Greenwood, Laurel Hill, and other cemeteries, has 
 not derived pleasure and profit from a walk through those 
 charming abodes of the dead? Ay, are not the associations 
 of such an agreeable character, that the weary and worn 
 would be willing to lie down beneath that branching cypress 
 or fir, and return no more to the clashing and fitful scenes of 
 a busy world ? ! is there not a charm, which even reconciles 
 us to present trials, in the hope that we shall some day repose 
 peacefully within that sweet enclosure, where those whom we 
 love have been laid ? Any of the weary wanderers of earth 
 might count it a rich inheritance, if they had assurance, that 
 when their earthly house is dissolved, their remains should 
 sleep on the green and shady Laurel Hill where the may- 
 flower blooms — hard by those rocks where the swallow 
 builds her nest, and beneath those trees where the robin 
 hymns her matins and vespers, while the gentle Schuylkill 
 murmurs a requiem to the dead, and images to the living, 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 457 
 
 the flowing current of time, which is bearing us all onward 
 to the bosom of eternity. Sweet abode of the dead, 
 may those who formed thee had a Paradise for the 
 repose of their spirits, even more beautiful than all thy monu- 
 ments, emblems, flowers, and river are fitted to image to the 
 soul. 
 
 And if like skill and taste were expended in adorning our 
 church-yards, how much more elevated, refined, and holy 
 would be the feelings and sentiments of those who worship 
 the living God, hard by the sepulchres of their departed ! If 
 those enclosures were of proper magnitude, and arranged in 
 such a manner as to afford a little retiracy from the crowd ; 
 if they had shaded walks and some humble seats along those 
 graves where the aged and the young sleep together, ! what 
 lessons might be learned there, by those who reach the 
 place of worship some time previous to the hour of service. 
 Would not a short time spent in meditation around the 
 beautified graves of departed ones, be eminently fitted to 
 prepare the mind profitably to engage in the worship of 
 Almighty God ? An exercise of this description would 
 assuredly be suggestive of many and valuable reflections. 
 It would bring the mind at once into communion with 
 heaven ; forasmucli as the transition of thought from those 
 lowly mansions, to those which are on high, is as natural as 
 it is pleasant. Here repose their bodies ; yonder in that 
 world of light and glory, their souls. And all those virtues 
 with which their characters were jeweled, all that endeared 
 them to us, and gave them favor with God and with man, 
 39 
 
458 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 will rise vividly before the mind, and urge us to the attaia- 
 ment of like excellence, while it would greatly encourage us 
 to follow in the footsteps of those, " who through faith and 
 patience inherited the promises," and have entered their rest. 
 Thus we would call into existence, an influence counter 
 to that which the ill-conditioned and neglected grave-yard 
 now exerts upon the mind ; an influence potent to inspire us 
 with a holy desire to depart and be with Christ and His holy 
 ones. And instead of clinging to earth, and shrinking from 
 death, and dreading the coming of the Son of Man, the cry 
 would burst from many hearts, Hasten ! hasten thy chariots, 
 O God of our salvation ! Or if the desire to enjoy those 
 peaceful slumbers and future glories should be less ardent in 
 the minds of some, it v»'ould at least fill them with resignation 
 to the Divine will, and enable them to enter fully into the 
 sentiment so beautifully expressed in the hyrnn of the sainted 
 Muhlenberg. 
 
 " I would not live alway ; I ask not to slay, 
 Where storm after storm rises dai-k o'er the -way ; 
 The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here, 
 Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 
 I would not live alway ; no — welcome the tomb. 
 Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom ; 
 There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise, 
 To hail him in triumph descending the skies. 
 Who ? Who? would live alway, away from his God; 
 Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, 
 Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
 And the noontide of glory eternaJly reigns ? 
 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, 
 Their Saviour and brethren, transported to greet ; 
 While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll. 
 And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul." 
 
GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 459 
 
 I might urge yet other considerations to establish more 
 firmly the proposition advanced and supported, but the sub- 
 ject is one which commends itself to the judgment of noble 
 and good men, while it will, we trust, successfully plead its 
 own cause with all hearts which are the home of generous 
 friendships, of pious tendencies, and of holy remembrances. 
 There can be no expenditure of labor, or of means, which 
 will more richly compensate mankind, than that which is 
 bestowed upon the sepulchres of our departed. For attractive 
 and beautiful grave-yards and cemeteries will assist our 
 piety, promote the refinement and elevation of society, while 
 their influence is favorable to the exaltation of all the iliculties 
 of the soul. Their quiet, and peace, and beauty, give 
 birth to another and spiritual law, which attracts as strongly 
 as that of our mortality,* but which, unlike that, leads us to 
 the grave, that it m.ay conduct us to glory. And, therefore, 
 instead of clothing the city of the dead with gloomy asso- 
 ciations, it may become to us a Paradise, where all those 
 emblems and sentiments of hope and of glory, w^ill one day 
 glow in living immortal realizations. May God attend 
 with His blessing whatever is contained in these pages 
 consonant with His word, and in harmony with His will. 
 May it be the pleasure of the Lord to smile upon this 
 effort to create a healthful religious sentiment of respect and 
 veneration for those who can no longer plead their own 
 cause, save in those silent but plaintive utterances which rise 
 from their neglected abodes, and which have promj/ted the 
 author of these pages to proclaim a message from them, in 
 
460 GRAVE-YARDS AND CEMETERIES. 
 
 the ears of the living. And may He whose sleepless care 
 presides over all the works of His hand, encircle us with 
 His protecting power ; that, encompassed by His attributes, 
 and dwelling in the secret places of the most High, we may 
 fear no evil ; and thus when calamities darken our sky, and 
 streams of earthly comfort forget to flow, we may find God our 
 refuge and Rock, and our Spring of joy flowing fresh and full 
 from His unfathomable nature, to gladden us on our pilgrim- 
 age through this " dry and thirsty land." O! Thou merciful 
 One, let Thy gracious Providence attend us through all our 
 wanderings, and support us to the end of our days ; and 
 when we lie down in the silent grave, may Thy sleepless 
 eye, blessed Redeemer, watch our dust, and Thy Spirit move 
 those, whose love and skill will not suffer a grave to lie 
 neglected, or a grave-yard unadorned. And may it hence- 
 forth, even until the resurrection morn, be spoken to the 
 praise of all generations, that they venerate the dead, and 
 care for the sepulchres of their departed. 
 
 THE END. 
 
CUMMING'S WOEKS. 
 
 UNIFORM EDITION. 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON 
 
 CUMMING'S APOCALYPTIC SKETCHES; 
 
 Ob, Lectures on tub Book of Revelation. Oue vol. 12mo. Cloth. 
 
 CUMMING'S APOCALYPTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 Second Series. One vol. 12mo. Cloth. 
 
 CUMMING'S LECTURES ON OUR LORD'S MIRACLES. 
 
 One vol. 12mo. Cloth. 
 
 CUMMING'S LECTURES ON THE PARABLES. 
 
 One vol. 12mo. Cloth. 
 
 CUMMING'S PROPHETIC STUDIES; 
 
 Or, Lectures on the Book of Daniel. One vol. 12mo. Cloth. 
 
 Price 75 cts. per volume, and sent by mail, free of postage, upon receipt of 
 this amount by the publishers. 
 
 The Rev. John CuinriNC, D. D., is now the great pulpit orator of London, 
 as Edward Irving was some twenty years since. But very differont is the 
 Doctor to that strange, wonderfully eloquent, but erratic man. There could 
 not by possibility be a greater contrast. The one all fire, enthusiasm, and 
 semi-madness ; the other a man of chastened energy and convincing calmness. 
 The one like a meteor, flashing across a troubled sky, and then vanishing 
 suddenly in the darkness ; the other like a silver star, shining serenely, and 
 illuminating our pathway with its steady ray. He is looked upon as the great 
 champion of Protestantism in its purest form. His church is densely crowded 
 by the most intellectual and thinking part of that crowded city, while his 
 Writings have reached a sale unequalled by those of any theological writer of 
 the present day. His great work on the "Apocalypse," upon which his great 
 reputation as a writer rests, having already reached its 15th edition in England, 
 while his " Lectures on the Miracles," and those on " Daniel," have passed 
 through six editions of 1000 copies each, and his "Lectures on the Parables" 
 through four editions, all within a comparatively short t^me. 
 
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON 
 
 HAVE JUST PUBLISHED 
 
 THE WOMEN OF THE SCRiPTURES, 
 
 EDITED BY THE 
 REV. H. HASTINGS WELD; 
 
 WITH 
 
 ORIGINAL LITERARY CONTRIBUTIONS, 
 
 BY 
 
 DISTINGUISHED AMERICAN WRITERS: 
 
 BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 TWELVE SUPEKB ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL, 
 BY J. SARTAIN. PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS, EXPRESSLY FOR THE WORK, 
 
 BY T. P. ROSSITER, NEW YORK: 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 Minam, 
 
 Hannah, 
 
 Esther, 
 
 Etc, 
 
 Ruth, 
 
 'I'he Syrophenidajl 
 
 Sarah, 
 
 Queen of Sheba, 
 
 Martha, 
 
 Kachel, 
 
 Shunamite, 
 
 The Maryi. 
 
 Elegantly Bound in White Calf, Tiirkey Morocco, and Cloth 
 Extra, with Gilt Edges, 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Thje subject of this book entitles it to a high place among illustrated 
 oiumes. The execution, literary and artistic, will, we are confident, b« 
 found worthy of the theme ; since we have received the assistance ol 
 authors best known in the sacred literature of our country, in presenting 
 in tlieir various important attitudes and relations, the Women of th» 
 BcRiPTUKES. The contents of the volume were prepared expressly for it, 
 with the exception of the pages from the pen of Mrs. Balfour ; and for th« 
 republication of her articles, no one who reads them will require an apohigy. 
 The designs for the engravings are original; and the Publishers trust that 
 in the present volume they have made their best acknowledgment for mo 
 favour with which its predecessors have been received. Tlie whole, thoy 
 oeiieve, will be found no inapt memento of those to whom St. Peter refers 
 the sex for an ensample : " the holy women, in the old time." 
 
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON 
 
 HAVE RECENTLY PUBLISHED, 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF THE SAVIOURj 
 
 BY THE 
 
 POETS AND PAINTERS: 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 UAITV GSMS OF ART AND GrUJXlV 9, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF 
 
 THE SAVIOUR'S LIFE AND PASSION. 
 
 EDITED BY THE 
 
 REV. RUFUS GRISWOLD. 
 
 THE ILLL'STKATIONS, WHICH ARE EXQUISITELY ENGRAVED ON STEEL, 
 BY JOHN SARTAIN, ARE : 
 
 The Holy Family, painted by N. Poussin ; 
 Tlie Saviour, bv Paul Delaroclie ; 
 Christ by the Well of Sychar. by Emelie Signol; 
 Ihe Daughter of Janus, by Deloime ; 
 
 Walking on the Sea, by Henry Richter ; 
 The Ten Lepers, by A. Vandyke ; 
 The Last Supper, by Benjamiu West ; 
 The Women at the Sepulchre, by Phihp Viat 
 
 THE LITERARY CONTENTS, COMPRISING SIXTY-FOUR POEMS, ARE BY 
 
 Hilton, Hemaiis, Montgomery, Keble, Mrs. Slgoiirncy, Miss Laa* 
 
 don, Dale, Willis, BulfincU, Bethune, Longfellow, Wliittier, 
 
 Croly, Klopstock, Mrs. Osgood, Pierpont, Crossvvell, and 
 
 other celebrated Poets of tills and otlier Countries. 
 
 The volume is richly and beautifully bound in Turkey Morocco, gilt, whitt 
 calf extra, or embossed cloth, gilt edges, sides and back. 
 
 We commend this volume to the attention of those who would place a 
 Souvenir in the hands of their friends, to invite them in the purest strains of 
 poetry, and by the eloquence of art, to study the Life of the Saviour. — Christ. Obt, 
 
 The contents are so arranged as to constitute a Poetical and Pirtorial Lift 
 of the Saviour, and we can think of no more appropriate gift-book. In typo- 
 graphy, embellishments, and binding, we have recently seen nothing raois 
 tasteful and rich. — North American. 
 
 We hke this book, as well for its beauty as for its elevated character. ^ Tt 
 is just such an one as is suited, either for a library, or a parlour centre-table; 
 end no one can arise from its perusal without feeling strongly the subhmity 
 Hid enduring character of the Christian religion. — Harrisburg Telegraph. 
 
 This is truly a splendid volume in all its externals, while its contents ar 
 richly worthy of the magnificent style in which they are preserited. As illus- 
 traiions of the Life and Passion of the Saviour of mankind, it will form an 
 appropriate Souvenir for the season in which we commemorate h:a coming 
 tfton earth. — Neal's Gazette. 
 
IINOSAV &, BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIVES OF THE APOSTLES; 
 
 ILIHTSTRATED BY 
 
 CELEBRATED POETS AND PAINTERS. 
 
 EDITED DY 
 
 H. HASTINGS WELD. 
 Eight Illustrations, beautifully Engraved on Steel, bySartain* 
 
 rhe Redeemer, painted by Decaine — Frontis- Christ's charse to Pf.ter, by Raphael ; 
 
 piece ; Peter and Joliii healing tlie Lame Man at tk 
 &jit'r)ch II) Syria, by Harding— Vignette title ; Beautiful Gate of the Temple, b>- Raphael,' 
 
 Joiin reprovmg Herod, by Le Bruii ; Paul before Aprippa, by Sartain ; 
 
 rtirist, with Ins Disciples, weeping over Jerusa- John on the Isle of Patmos, by Decaine. 
 « lem, by Begas ; 
 
 THE LITKRARY CONTENTS CONSIST OF UPWARDS OF SEVENTY POEMS, BT 
 
 Bishop Heber, Lowell, Kcble, Hannah F. Gould, Clark, Mrs. 
 Hemans, 3Irs. Sigourney, Barton, Bryant, Miss Landon, Tap- 
 pan, Pierpont, LongfelloAV, Miss Davidson, Dale, Cros- 
 well, Percival, Bowring, and other celebrated Poets. 
 
 Beautifully bound, in various styles, to match " Scenes in the Life 
 of the Saviour." 
 
 We do not know where we could find a more elegant and appropriate 
 present for a Christian friend. It will always have value. It is not one of 
 those ephemeral works which are read, looked at, and forgotten. It tells of 
 scenes dear to the hearts of Christians, which must ever find there an abiding 
 place. — Banner of the Cross. 
 
 Here is truly a beautiful volume, admirable in design, and perfect in its 
 execution. The editor, with a refined taste, and a loving appreciation of 
 Scripture history, has selected some of the best writings of ancient and modern 
 authors in illustration of various scenes in the Lives of the Apostles, whilst 
 his own facile pen has given us in prose a series of excellent contributions. 
 The lyre of Heber seems to vibrate again as we turn over its pages ; and 
 Keble, Jenner, Cowper, Herrick, Bernard, Barton, and a brilliant host of 
 glowing writers, shine again by the light of Christian truth, and the beaming 
 effulgence of a pure religion. It is an elegant and appropriate volume for a 
 Christmas gift. — Transcript. 
 
 The exterior is novel and beautiful ; the typography is in the highest style 
 of the art ; and the engravings, nine in number, are among the best efforti 
 of Mr. Sartain. The prose articles contributed by the editor are well written , 
 and tlie poetical selections are made with judgment. The volume is a worthy 
 companion of " Scenes in the Life of the Saviour," and both are much more 
 worthy of Christian patronage than the great mass of annuals. — FreshyteriaTi, 
 
 The above volumes are among the most elegant specimens from the 
 American press. In neatness and chasteness of execution, they are perhapg 
 unsurpassed. The engravings are of the highest order; and illustrate most 
 strikingly, and with great beauty, some of the most sublime and the most 
 touching Scripture scenes. They also contain some of the richest specimens 
 of Sacred Poetry, whose subject and style are such as deeply to interest the 
 imagination, and at the same time to make the heart better. We hope the 
 Christian's table, at least, maybe adorned with the volumes above mentioned, 
 and such as these. — NewEiigland Puritan. 
 
luiiiiijiui k %[dhk\\, ]^\)\kM^\}k, 
 
 HAVE JUST PUBLISHED 
 
 THE SEPULCHRES OF OUR DEPARTED. 
 
 REV. F. R. ANSPAOH, A.M., 
 
 nAQERSTOTVJr, MARYLAND. 
 
 As flowers which night, when day is o'er, perfume, 
 Breathes the sweet memory from a good man's tomb. 
 Sir E. B. Lytton. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Communion with tbe Pa«t. 
 
 The Sacredness of the Sepulchre. 
 
 Visits to the Sepulchres of our De- 
 parted. 
 
 Lessons ■which the Sepulchre im- 
 parts. 
 The Glory of Man. 
 
 In the Sepulchre the Conflicts of Life 
 end. 
 
 At the Sepulchres of our Departed we 
 may learn the Value of Life. 
 
 The Sepulchre proclaims the Evil of 
 Sin. 
 
 The Sepulchres of our Departed ad- 
 monish us to be gentle and kind to 
 the Living. 
 
 I'osthumo'is Fame. — The Sepulchre 
 instruo'^s us honv to Live, so as to be 
 remembered when Dead. 
 
 fhe Repose of the Holy Dead. 
 
 The -S'apulchre reminds us of tbe Value 
 and Immortality of the Soul. 
 
 The Hope of Resurrection divests the 
 Sepulchre of its Terrors, and brings 
 Consolation to the Bereaved. 
 
 The Indestructibility of the Family 
 Bond a source of Consolation to the 
 Bereaved. 
 
 At the Sepulchres of our Departed we 
 may also learn the Right which Qod 
 holds in us and our Families. 
 
 Future Recognition. 
 
 The Sympathy of Jesus with afflicted 
 and bereaved souls. 
 
 Our Present and our Future Home. 
 
 Darkness turned to Light, or the Usei 
 we should make of afflictions and 
 bereavements. 
 
 Grave-yards and Cemeteries, or the 
 Claims of the Dead upon the Living, 
 and the Care which should be bo- 
 stowed upon the Places of their Re- 
 pose. 
 
 One Volume, 12mo. Price, $1 00. 
 
Xiiiii5ni{ k 331fllvistnn, ^.^Ijilnhlpljia; 
 
 HATE RECENTLY PUBLISHED 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW TESTAMENT 
 
 REV. THEOPHILUS STORK, D.D. 
 
 "Of such is the kingdom of heaTen." — Jesus, 
 
 "How oft, heart-sick and sore, 
 I've wished I were, once more, 
 A little child." — Mks. Southet. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. — THE WOXDEUS OP 
 BETHLEHEM. 
 
 The " Holy Child Jesus." The Child- 
 hood and Youth of Christ. The De- 
 vout Simeon, with the Infant Saviour 
 in his arms. Jesus among the Doc- 
 tors in the Temple. The s_ympathy 
 of Christ with little children. The 
 beauty of childhood. Poetical cjuo- 
 lations from Wordsworth. 
 
 LITTLE CHILDREN BROUGHT TO THE 
 SAVIOUR. 
 
 Explanation of the scene in Mark x. 
 13, 14. The Disciples' conduct. 
 The probable reasons of their inter- 
 ference. The Saviour's displeasure 
 at their conduct. His affectionate 
 welcome to children. How parents 
 now may prevent children from 
 going to Christ. An earnest dis- 
 suasive from such deportment. The 
 importance of example. The influ- 
 ence of the home-spirit. The posi- 
 tive duty of bringing our children 
 to the Saviour. 
 
 THE CHILDREN IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 R.xplanation of the temple-scene, Matt, 
 xxi. 15, 16. The hosanna of the 
 children. The displeasure of the 
 priests and scribes. The Saviour's 
 vindication of the children. Ps. 
 viii. 2, explained. The importance 
 of early impressions. Keformation. 
 
 National education. Sunday schools. 
 Facts, showing that children trained 
 in religion will become the cham- 
 pions of truth and virtue. Beautiful 
 
 visions of the future. 
 
 TIMOTHY. 
 
 His early religious education. The 
 influence of maternal piety. Eunice 
 an example for the imitation of mo- 
 thers. The " child father of the 
 man." Instruction and piety com- 
 bined. Encouragement to pious 
 mothers. 
 
 THE INFANTICIDR AT BETHLEHEM. 
 
 Explanation of the scene. Seeming 
 incongruity. Vindication of Divine 
 Providence, in the massacre of the 
 infants. Infant martj-rs. The scene, 
 suggestive of the following topics : 
 
 1. The death of little children. Sources 
 of consolation. Providence. Infant 
 salvation. 
 
 2. Mission of children. The advent 
 of a little child in the family. The 
 child at home. The sick and dying 
 child. The memory. 
 
 3. Children in heaven. Beautiful as- 
 pect of the heavenly home. 
 
 4. Recognition. Difficulties of tie 
 doctrine. Scriptural aspect of tha 
 subject. David. Ilecognition of the 
 loved and lost in heaven. 
 
 Conclusion. 
 
 Ono neat 12mo. Volume, Cloth, gilt. Price, 75 cents. 
 
t leonnilt) Unognition. 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, Philadelphia, 
 
 DAVE JUST PUBLISHED THE SIXTH EDITION OF 
 
 THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION, 
 
 3K AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL DISCUSSION OF THE QUESTIOM, 
 
 'Bill mi liiDin nnr fi'mh m ^tmml 
 
 BY REV. H. HARBAUGH, 
 
 fASTOR OF THE FIRST GERMAN REFORMED CHURCH, LANCASTER, T k. 
 
 In One Volume^ 13mo< Price 75 cents« 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 The delightful theme of the blessed recognition of each other among 
 believers, is, in this book of Mr. Ilarbaugh, pastor of the First German 
 Reformed Church, Lancaster, Pa., handled in a very attractive, living, 
 and comprehensive manner. — Professor Schaf, in his Kircherifreund, 
 Dec. 1852. 
 
 We have found great satisfaction in examining this book, and have 
 no doubt it will prove a most acceptable as well as useful contribution 
 to the theological and religious literature of the day. Christ is the 
 centre and substance of it, and the hope of our eternal union with our 
 sainted friends is ultimately resolved into our union with Him. This 
 leading idea is set forth more prominently, and greater stress is laid 
 upon it, and the subject in general is more extensively investigated 
 and fully discussed, than in any other publication that has fallen under 
 our notice. The arguments are derived from the twilight of pagan- 
 ism ; from the universal consent of mankind ; from reason; Jewish 
 theology; the teachings of Christ; of the apostles; the Christian 
 fathers,; theologians, and from the testimony of good and learned men 
 in general. The objections to the doctrine are answered, and its prac- 
 tical effects exhibited, with great ability and very satisfactorily. The 
 purity and lucidity of the style, the deep pathos and beauty that runs 
 through the whole book, and its constant tendency to stimulate us to 
 become Christians of the highest order, give unusual interest and 
 value to the volume. We hope it may be extensively read. — Lutheran 
 Observer. 
 
 We have read the above work with much pleasure. It is gotten up 
 in handsome style, and forms a very appropriate sequel to its prede- 
 cessor. " The Sainted Dead." Those who have read that work can- 
 not but desire to read this. It is full of pious. Christian thought, 
 presented in the forcible and lively style for which the productions of 
 ihe author are distinguished. 
 
t Beaunili] ikmt 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 HAVE JUST PUBLISHED THE THIRD EDITION OP 
 
 THE HEA?E1?LT HOME; 
 
 OR THE 
 
 EMPLOYMENT AND ENJOYMENTS OF THE SAINTS IN HEAVEN. 
 BY THE REV. H. HARBAUGH, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "the HEAVENLY RECOGNITION OF FRIENDS,'" AND 
 
 "heaven; or, the sainted dead." 
 In One Volnme lUmo, Price $1 00. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PKESS. 
 
 " The Heavenly Home." — There is something taking in that title — 
 at least there ought to be to the Christian heart. Like "The Saints' 
 Everlasting Rest," it wins upon the ear, and awakens delightful expec- 
 tations. Still we were not prepared for so pleasant a volume. We did 
 not look for so much earnestness in discussion, so much beauty and ele- 
 gance of style, so much fervent and exalted piety, and withal so little 
 idle speculation. In reading it, we almost felt as though we were stand- 
 ing in sight of the Heavenly Jerusalem ; and, to vary a little the senti- 
 ment of Washington Irving, if it did not leave us a better, it certainly 
 left us a more devout man than we were before its perusal. We therefore 
 feel that in commending it to the reader's notice we are doing him an 
 essential service. — Protestant. 
 
 There is nothing fanciful here — nothing bold and venturous in specu- 
 lation, nor attenuated and mystical in disquisition j but the author gives 
 himself up in all simplicity to the leading of the Holy Spirit — follows 
 the instructions of Scripture closely, expounds them agreeably to the 
 soundest principles of interpretation, infuses an humble and devotional 
 spirit into every page and paragraph of his work, aiming to lead his 
 reader through well described paths of intelligence, love, and new obe- 
 dience, into " the Heavenly Home." There is very much to enlighten 
 those sitting in darkness, much to refresh those ready to faint through 
 the greatness of the way, much to encourage the desponding, direct the 
 inquiring, and quicken the steps of the halting. In a word, the volume 
 is one that every child of God, and every one longing to bear the filial 
 relation to him, may take up with an assurance of Divine instruction 
 and consolation. — Congregaiionalist. 
 
 The style of this book is lucid — the thoughts glowing — the tone that 
 everywhere pervades, is heaven-like. The author has seized upon every 
 aspect of heaven which Scripture, reason, or imagination allow hfm to 
 present, and he has dwelt upon them with the zest of a passionate ex- 
 pectation of dwelling therein. To aged saints in particular this volume 
 will be very attractive. — Journal and Messenger,