MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 Death and Eternity 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICA ROWAN 
 / 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS 
 
 1863 
 
Z 77 
 
 University Press: 
 
 Welch, Bigelow, and Company, 
 
 Cambridge. 
 
NOTE 
 
 TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 HE circumstances under which this 
 volume has been produced are very 
 peculiar. A favorite book with his 
 late Royal Highness the Prince Con- 
 sort was the well-known German work Stun- 
 den der Andacht, which is generally ascribed to 
 Zschokke. Some of these Meditations were 
 frequently read by him, as though he had a pre- 
 sentiment of his early death. After that sad 
 event the book naturally became more than ever 
 endeared to the Queen, who solaced herself by 
 making a selection of the greater favorites ; these 
 she employed Miss Rowan to translate, and had 
 them printed in a volume, of which a small num- 
 ber of copies were circulated, with a notice that 
 the " Meditations " had " been selected for trans- 
 lation by one to whom, in deep and overwhelming 
 sorrow, they had proved a source of comfort and 
 edification. " As the volume is one so eminently 
 calculated to answer this end, it was evident that 
 a much wider circulation was desirable than at 
 
IV 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 first contemplated, and accordingly Her Majesty 
 was pleased to give her permission to that effect. 
 
 The volume is now republished in America, 
 where so many afflicted hearts need consolation. 
 It is believed that these " Meditations " will carry 
 comfort wherever they are read. 
 
Original Preface. 
 
 HE Meditations contained in this volume 
 form part of the well-known German 
 
 HI devotional work Stunden der Andacht, 
 published in the beginning of the present cen- 
 tury, and generally ascribed to Zschokke. 
 
 They have been selected for translation by 
 one * to whom, in deep and overwhelming sor- 
 row, they have proved a source of comfort and 
 edification. 
 
 London, June, 1862. 
 
 translator s Note. 
 
 ER MAJESTY having graciously grant- 
 ed her permission to publish these se- 
 IJ lections, (originally printed for private 
 circulation only,) the Translator now presents 
 them to the general public. 
 
 * Queen Victoria. 
 
tfable of Contents. 
 
 Page 
 
 Is Slow Decline or Sudden Death most desirable? . 1 
 
 Fear of Death. Part 1 14 
 
 Fear of Death. Part II 28 
 
 God is Love 42 
 
 The Consolation of the Patient Sufferer . . .56 
 
 The Sick 71 
 
 A Foretaste of Heaven. Part 1 84 
 
 A Foretaste of Heaven. Part n. .... 96 
 
 The World a Mirror of Eternity 108 
 
 The Existence of Angels 123 
 
 Death is my Gain 138 
 
 Eternal Destiny. Part 1 152 
 
 Eternal Destiny. Part II. 164 
 
 The Destination of Man 176 
 
 Immortality 193 
 
 Why must the Future Life be hidden from us? . 206 
 
 A Joy in the Hour of Death 221 
 
 Thoughts at the Graves of those we love . . 234 
 
 The Thought of Eternity 248 
 
 Interpretations of Eternity: — 
 
 I. Going in to the Father 262 
 
 II. The Future Life 278 
 
 III. Retribution 294 
 
 IV. Reunion 312 
 
 V. Reunion 329 
 
 VI. Reunion 343 
 
 Memorial Festival of our Triumph over Death . 358 
 
 The Triumph of Holiness 370 
 
 The Connection between Life and Eternity . . 385 
 
 Glorification after Death 401 
 
Meditations. 
 
 IS SLOW DECLINE OR SUDDEN 
 MOST DESIRABLE? 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Saviour ! by thy death- wound's power, 
 Strengthen me, when that blest hour, 
 Which weigheth crowns of victory, 
 To my death-bed draweth nigh. 
 
 Then peace, with soft and silent wing, 
 Round my couch thy shadow fling. 
 Ghost of my sins ! avoid the bed 
 Where I, dying, rest my head, 
 While the fading life-light pales 
 As my quivering eyesight fails. 
 
 Come, my angel, from God's throne, 
 Bring me my celestial crown ; 
 Then waft me, with thy waving palm, 
 To heavenly joys, and angel calm. 
 
 (Matthew vii. 20, 21.) 
 
 m^^^m^lAT a painful shock do we not all 
 
 experience at the intelligence of the 
 
 sudden death of a friend, or even of 
 
 Hfe a mere acquaintance, whom we may 
 
 have seen and spoken to but a few hours or a few 
 
 l A 
 
2 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 days before, and whom we believe to be in good 
 health ! We are struck with terror ; we find it 
 difficult to realize the fact ; it seems to us incom- 
 prehensible, impossible ; it is as though we had 
 expected that God, the Ruler of life and death, 
 would, in regard to us and all that concerns us 
 in this world, have made a merciful exception to 
 the general course of things. 
 
 But what is it that terrifies us ? It seems to us 
 dreadful that a human being should, unexpectedly 
 and without any preparation, be torn from amid all 
 his plans and projects, and be ushered into another 
 world. We at once picture to ourselves in im- 
 agination our own soul in the place of that of the 
 departed person, and feel the silent awe with which 
 it must be seized at the mighty change that has 
 been wrought in the course of a few seconds, 
 when it finds itself, without any forewarning, drift- 
 ing away from its common occupations into the 
 unknown world beyond the grave. We shudder 
 at such parting without leave-taking, without the 
 last pressure of the hand of affection. 
 
 Different are the impressions produced by the 
 spectacle of the slow extinction of one whose illness 
 can only end in death. It is true, that in such 
 case we are better prepared for the loss we are to 
 sustain ; but, nevertheless, the slightest sign of 
 improvement revives our hope that the malady 
 will not prove fatal, and the dearer to us the per- 
 son who seems about to depart, the more willingly, 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 3 
 
 the more fervently, do we give ourselves up to 
 hope. And when death does ensue, our grief is 
 not the less poignant because we might have been 
 prepared for all that was to come. It is true, that 
 the sufferings of the sick are seldom as intense as 
 our heated and self-torturing imaginations depict 
 them to us ; but who can watch the formerly so 
 blooming, and now so emaciated form, the pale 
 cheek and sunken eye, without being moved with 
 deep pity? Who can listen to his groans and 
 sighs, to the quick, feeble, or heavy breathing, 
 without wishing that a merciful God would soon 
 put an end to this state, and give the sufferer rest 
 in that sleep of death which is, after all, inevitable ? 
 
 Thus we are terrified by sudden death, while 
 we are pained by the spectacle of slow decline. 
 
 But which of these would be the most desirable, 
 if wishing could be of any avail, when the goal of 
 every hope and every desire has been irrevocably 
 fixed ? Is sudden or slow death to be preferred ? 
 
 This is a question which at first sight, indeed, 
 seems idle, as our opinions can have no effect upon 
 that which must and will take place. But never- 
 theless the subject has great attractions for every 
 mind, and to meditate upon it cannot fail to be 
 instructive and consolatory, if it tend to destroy 
 the many prejudices which are entertained in re- 
 gard to it. 
 
 For instance, are there not many mortals who 
 look upon sudden death as the greatest of evils, 
 
4 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 because they believe that whosoever is thus strick- 
 en clown is carried away in the midst of sins, 
 which he has not had time to repent of, to eternal 
 damnation ? Are there not many who for this 
 reason in particular pray to God to deliver them 
 from sudden death ? 
 
 But such belief can hardly be other than the fruit 
 of superstition and of an unworthy conception of 
 the greatness and justice of God. For if sudden 
 death were in reality the greatest of evils, how 
 could God — whose children we all are, to whose 
 grace and mercy we all lay claim — favor some 
 human beings in this most important matter, (if it 
 be really so,) and not others? When an earth- 
 quake or a flood suddenly destroys with one swoop 
 hundreds of lives, are there not likely to be among 
 the number as many virtuous and upright men as 
 there are deep-dyed sinners ? If sudden death 
 were the direst of misfortunes, would not an 
 all-merciful God in distributing it exercise some 
 discrimination ? What have the millions who 
 breathe out their lives slowly on a bed of sickness 
 done to deserve their being thus favored? 
 
 We may indeed say to ourselves, — On the bed 
 of sickness the evil-doer has time to repent of his 
 sins, and to turn anew to God. But are we not 
 all sinners? And if repentance, brought about 
 by the fear of death, can set everything right 
 again, would it not be opposed to the Divine love 
 of God, which embraces all alike with fatherly ten- 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 5 
 
 derness, if he were to deny this happiness to many 
 thousands while he granted it to others ? Would 
 even an earthly father, a human mother, exercise 
 such injustice towards their children ? No ; your 
 conceptions of the highest of all beings are faulty, 
 because you entertain erroneous views of the value 
 of death-bed repentance. When a criminal in his 
 prison cell, full of fear of the coming punishment, 
 repents of his misdeeds, would you at once place 
 him in moral worth on a level with the most pious 
 and virtuous of men ? If a child, who has long 
 caused you sorrow by its disobedience and mani- 
 fold naughtinesses, perceiving that you are at last 
 determined to put a stop to the evil and to carry 
 out the threatened punishment, burst into tears 
 and repent because of its fear of chastisement, 
 would you reward it in the same way, bestow 
 upon it the same pleasures, as upon the docile, in- 
 dustrious child, who, looking up to you with tender 
 love, has always obeyed your will ? Your sense 
 of justice would recoil from this. Then how can 
 you suppose the All- Just One to be less just than 
 you would be ? How can repentance, born of the 
 terror of the moment, be of the same value as 
 a life virtuous throughout ? Christ himself has, 
 with deep earnestness, warned us against this error. 
 Neither tears, nor words, nor prayers, will avail, 
 but deeds, works of penitence ! " Wherefore by 
 their fruits ye shall know them ! " Saith the 
 Lord, " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord I 
 
6 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 Lord !* shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but 
 those who do the will of my Father ivhich is in 
 heaven!" (Matt. vii. 20, 21.) 
 
 Sudden death is not, therefore, to be feared as 
 the greatest of misfortunes, because it deprives us 
 of the opportunity and of the time necessary to 
 express our repentance and to utter a few prayers. 
 The Divine Son did not teach, Repent at the 
 hour of death ; but he said, " Whoever takes up 
 my cross during his lifetime, and follows me, he is 
 my disciple I " "Be perfect, as your Father in 
 heaven is perfect." But such perfection cannot 
 be attained when sickness has worn down our 
 strength, but only by persevering struggles against 
 our sensual desires, by self-consecration according 
 to tlie words and spirit of Jesus. 
 
 If, then, it be blameworthy to fear sudden 
 death for the reasons assigned, it is no doubt 
 equally blameworthy to wish for it from sheer 
 cowardice. For, in reality, what can it be but 
 cowardice or fear of the sufferings of a deadly 
 malady, and the approach of death itself, that 
 makes so many wish to be carried off as quickly 
 as possible, when their time shall come ? To live 
 to endure adversity requires greater courage than 
 at once to seek death. Of all the circumstances 
 that dishonor the suicide, there is none that adds 
 so much to the baseness of his dastardly deed as 
 his dread of life. For this reason it was that 
 Divine wisdom implanted so deeply in the breast 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 7 
 
 of man the love of life and the fear of death, — 
 that the weak and timid race, overwhelmed by its 
 earthly trials, might not fly too soon to seek ref- 
 uge in the grave. Those trials and sufferings 
 were necessary to turn away the mind from sen- 
 sual objects, and to lift it up and make it grasp 
 higher ones ; but the love of life was not the less 
 necessary. Without these fetters, large countries 
 would often have been converted into deserts, and 
 the ends of God and the destiny of man would 
 have remained unfulfilled. 
 
 The wise man will see the same reasons for 
 deeming a slow as a rapid death desirable ; but he 
 will never see cause to fear either. For he knows 
 the Lord that created him ; he knows the voice of 
 the Lord, who speaks to us even in the hour of 
 death, saying, " Fear not ; for I have redeemed 
 thee, I have called thee by thy name ; thou art 
 mine." (Isaiah xliii. 1.) 
 
 Fear not death, whether it come early or late ; 
 whether it come slowly, through the exhaustion 
 of illness, or the decay of age ; or suddenly, in 
 the strength and enjoyment of life, or on the field 
 of battle, or by some extraordinary and unforeseen 
 occurrence. For thou mayst indeed look forward 
 to death, as at night we look forward to sleep ; 
 but thou wilt not know when it comes, as little as 
 thou art conscious of the exact moment when 
 thou sinkest into sleep. They who shall see thee 
 die will be conscious of it, and shudder. They 
 
8 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 shudder because the love of life, with which God 
 has inspired all creatures, recoils from that which 
 is parting from life. But thou wilt as little see 
 thyself die as thou hast ever seen thyself fall 
 asleep. Thou seest not the film gathering over 
 thine eyes, thou art not alarmed at the increasing 
 pallor of thy face, at the coldness of thy limbs, 
 which fill the imagination of those who surround 
 thee with dismal images. 
 
 Fear not thy dissolution, for thou knowest who 
 has redeemed thee : it is Christ Jesus who has 
 shown thee the way to heaven, and who has re- 
 vealed to thee the will of the Father ; by doing 
 which faithfully thy spirit will be ennobled and 
 rendered worthy of entering into a realm of glory. 
 Thou knowest, when thine hour cometh, who it is 
 that has called thee by thy name, and has said, 
 " Thou art mine ! " It is the almighty, the all- 
 loving Father, who has created thee, who has 
 singled thee out, not for eternal suffering and 
 destruction, but for eternal bliss. 
 
 Fear not then, even shouldst thine end be rapid. 
 Constant and exaggerated terror of death is not 
 only unworthy of a Christian, but even of a hea- 
 then ; for this useless self-torture is in itself more 
 painful than death can ever be. It wears out the 
 spirit, deprives us of all capacity for joy, — which 
 is in reality the true supporter of health and life, 
 — weakens the body, and hastens the approach of 
 death, while we are endeavoring to flee from it. 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 9 
 
 It is well known that fear is one of the most dan- 
 gerous poisoners of life. Fear is in itself deadly, 
 life-consuming. He who is ever dreading death 
 dies a thousand times, and suffers each day of his 
 life, while when death is really at hand he will 
 not be conscious of its coming. 
 
 Therefore, cheer np, divert thy mind, occupy 
 thy fancy with other images ; for it is only thy 
 diseased imagination that conjures up before thee 
 these dismal shadows, not thy rational conviction. 
 Try to turn aside thy thoughts, which are so prone 
 to cling to this painful subject, because thou hast 
 too often led them in this direction. Every cheer- 
 ful hour that thou enjoyest is a healing draught, 
 and adds to the length of thy days. 
 
 Fear not death, should it even be thy lot to die 
 suddenly. Who knows what his end may be? 
 Who can in any way foretell whether he may not 
 be cut off by a fire, by the falling of a tile from a 
 roof, by a cannon-ball, by an attack of apoplexy, 
 or by some other untoward accident ? Therefore, 
 prepare thy house, keep thy domestic affairs, thy 
 worldly concerns, in order, so that, if thou be 
 called away suddenly from the midst of thy 
 friends, everything shall be found after thy disso- 
 lution arranged with such perfect care, that there 
 shall be no neglected parts, no confusion. The 
 praise of the living will follow thee ; the blessings 
 of thy loved ones will reach thee in the eternal 
 abodes ; thou wilt have fulfilled one of the most 
 
10 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 sacred duties towards those who are bound to thee 
 by the ties of blood. We may always take it for 
 granted, that he who kept his domestic affairs in 
 order was found prepared in those more impor- 
 tant matters also that lay between him and God. 
 Live and act each day so that after thy death, 
 were it even to take place the next minute, thy 
 family shall not be left in want, and no blame shall 
 attach to thy name. For the good name of the 
 departed must ever be the most blessed inherit- 
 ance to those he leaves behind. Arrange thy 
 affairs so that they may at any moment be laid 
 before the eyes of strangers, as is always more or 
 less the case after our demise. 
 
 Prepare thy house ! If thou leadest at all 
 times a life of piety, innocence, benevolence, full 
 of active well-doing, and free from hatred or 
 anger, such as Jesus thy Saviour taught thee, 
 then sudden death can only be to thee a sudden 
 benefit. Why shouldst thou dread to appear be- 
 fore God ? Art thou not ever in his presence ? 
 Hast thou not been, even from thy birth, one of 
 his children, whom he holds in his arms, whom 
 he watches over and protects ? True, thou 
 tremblest before his judgment. He knows thy 
 shortcomings ; but he knows also thy earnest 
 efforts to correct them. He sees also the honest 
 fight which, in order to be worthy of him, thou 
 fightest against the temptations to sin ; he sees 
 how often thou hast resisted and overcome thy 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE t H 
 
 tendencies to avarice or sensual enjoyment ; he 
 witnesses thy endeavors to make amends for 
 every fault by noble actions. Ought a child to 
 fear to appear before its loving parent, even 
 though it have not yet conquered all its faults ? 
 Has not Jesus revealed to us the infinite mercy 
 of the Father in all its beauty ? Has he not 
 given us assurances of his grace and his forgive- 
 ness ? 
 
 He who ever walks before the Omnipresent in 
 the loving spirit of Jesus, he need not tremble 
 before the Omnipresent ; and to him sudden 
 death is but an unexpected benefaction. Such 
 rapid passing away deprives death of its sharpest 
 pangs : the sight of the weeping loved ones that 
 surround us, the thought of the sorrow of those 
 who are absent, which render so difficult our 
 inevitable departure from this world. For to a 
 loving heart, what bitterer grief can death bring 
 than this ? Who could behold without deep pain 
 the affliction of those he is about to leave ? Who 
 could remain unmoved, when they draw nigh to 
 stretch forth for the last time the hand of faithful 
 love ? Who could remain untouched, when they 
 surround the death-bed with mournful lamenta- 
 tions ? 
 
 Even the many solemn preparations for the 
 possible occurrence of our demise, the anxious 
 listening and watching of our clear ones, and the 
 many other distressing circumstances which gen- 
 
12 IS SLOW DECLINE OR 
 
 erally surround the dying, add to the agony of 
 these last moments. Therefore, God often sends 
 to his children sudden death. He relieves them 
 from the afflicting necessity of witnessing the 
 fruitless, and sometimes immoderate, grief of 
 those who remain behind. 
 
 Death itself, the falling asleep, has no bitter- 
 ness. It is not a suffering, it cannot be so, for it 
 is the end of all suffering, in which pain must 
 already have ceased. It is the sickness alone 
 which is distressing ; but sickness is not death, it 
 only slowly introduces the latter. He whom God 
 calls suddenly from this world is even spared the 
 trials of a bed of illness. He dies without having 
 tasted of death. Between his earthly and his 
 heavenly life scarce a moment intervenes. With- 
 out care, without fear, without pain, he passes 
 from this life into a better and higher existence, 
 like one who passes from dreaming to waking. 
 He knows nothing of the struggle between death 
 and the instinctive love of life ; in him there is no 
 longing to remain with his loved ones, no repining 
 for what he is about to leave, no anxious look- 
 ing forward to what awaits him. 
 
 No, I do not look upon sudden death as a pun- 
 ishment of God, but as one of his sweetest boons. 
 Thus he called unto himself an Elias and an 
 Enoch. 
 
 How could that be an evil, O Thou, the 
 Allgood ! that cometh from thy hand ? Lord of 
 
SUDDEN DEATH MOST DESIRABLE? 13 
 
 the seraph and of the worm, Ruler of life and 
 death, I am in thy hand ; do unto me as thou 
 deemest fit ; for what thou dost is well done. 
 When thou didst call me from nothing into life, 
 thou didst will my happiness ; when thou callest 
 me away from life, will my happiness be less thy 
 care ? No, no, thou art Love, and whosoever 
 dwells in love, dwells in thee, O Lord, and thou 
 in him. Thou, Lord, art my light and my sal- 
 vation ; why should I tremble ? Thou art the 
 Lord of my life ; what should I dread ? 
 
FEAR OF DEATH 
 
 Part I. 
 
 It is fulfilled ! once — to the cross fast bound, 
 His bitterest hour past — the Saviour cried, 
 
 His flesh transpierced with wounds, his head thorn-crowned, 
 Cried he to Him in whom he could confide ; 
 
 Nor vainly cried he, for the hour drew nigh 
 
 That ended all his mortal agony. 
 
 It is fulfilled ! Though yet a short delay, 
 
 I also once must cry, and that erelong ; 
 Then shall I go where tears are wiped away, 
 
 Where sickness cometh never more, nor wrong : 
 The heart that 's filled with love and trusting faith 
 Knows what it still may hope for, e'en in death. 
 
 (2 Cor. v. 1-5.) 
 
 we mortals could foresee from our 
 cradle all the events and sufferings 
 
 that await us, many would tremble 
 more at life than at the closino; act 
 of it which we call death. 
 
 Life has often been metaphorically represented 
 as a journey begun without our willing it, and 
 ended without our willing it. On we speed with 
 restless haste. We set out in the dim dawn of 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 15 
 
 morning, emerging from the unknown depths of 
 night, and hurrying towards another night. From 
 beginning to end it is the work of God. 
 
 Minutes vanish, hours fly past us : fain would 
 we linger among the first flowers that smile to us 
 in the rosy morn of youth ! But a hidden power 
 urges us on, the flowers fall withered from our 
 hand, the hot midday sun of life is already glow- 
 ing above our heads. We discover shady spots, 
 whose refreshing shelter invites us to repose ; and 
 gladly would we rest. But no ! we must speed 
 on. We endeavor in vain to hold fast the joys 
 we find by the wayside. They escape. Already 
 the sunset reddens the sky, and behind the lurid 
 glare night is stealthily approaching. Willingly 
 would we pause to enjoy, in longer draughts, the 
 coolness of the lovely evening. But onwards! 
 onwards ! cries an unknown voice. We cling in 
 vain to the objects we meet, to stay the speed of 
 our progress. It is but a futile effort; they are 
 carried along with us down the rapid stream. 
 The colors of the sunset fade ; darkness envel- 
 ops all things ; light is extinguished ; earth van- 
 ishes ; our senses rest ; the journey is accom- 
 plished. We are surrounded by night ; men have 
 forgotten us. 
 
 Such is our lot. We all know it. You do not 
 shudder at the night from which you have emerged 
 into this life, — why should you shudder at the 
 night into which you are to pass? Are these 
 
IQ FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 wonderful transformations of existence your own 
 work ? No ; they are the unalterable consequen- 
 ces of the wise laws of a Higher Power. 
 
 What, then, is that which we call to die ? To 
 go out like a light, and in a sweet trance to forget 
 ourselves and all the passing phenomena of the 
 day, as we forget the phantoms of a fleeting 
 dream ; to form, as in a dream, new connections 
 with God's world ; to enter into a more exalted 
 sphere, and to make a new step up man's gradu- 
 ated ascent of creation. 
 
 We know naught of the world beyond this ; 
 nor can it be revealed or expressed to mortal man, 
 because it exceeds all his previous experiences, and 
 he lacks the senses wherewith to comprehend it. 
 How could you explain to one born blind the 
 feeling of delight awakened in you by the con- 
 templation of a beautiful form, or by the spectacle 
 of early morn in spring among flowers ? If the 
 soul of an animal should ever be clad in human 
 form, and with this should receive the light of 
 reason, would this new human soul, do you think, 
 long to return to its first animal state, when in 
 dull monotony it could only brood over the pres- 
 ent as it passed by, and know of naught but what 
 was immediately before it ? 
 
 Why, then, do we fear death, which is but the 
 certain transition to a better state ? Why do we, 
 when we think of dissolution, treasure more 
 highly our existence as it is ; although there are 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 17 
 
 but few among us who, if they had the choice, 
 would care to live their life over again, with its 
 many hours of suffering, its follies and its self- 
 torturings, unless they might be allowed to intro- 
 duce some chancres ? 
 
 There are two sources from whence spring the 
 fear of death, which more especially deserve our 
 attention. 
 
 1. The Deity himself has intimately interwo- 
 ven with our whole beino; an instinctive love of 
 life. Hence the general revolt of our nature 
 against dissolution in all its forms. 
 
 Were it not for this strong and almost uncon- 
 querable love of life, were it not for this natural 
 shrinking from death, the earth would already 
 now be a depopulated desert. Man has to en- 
 counter in this world numberless dangers, which 
 would long ago have destroyed him, had not the 
 love of life given him courage to resist them, and 
 had not this courage, in its turn, given him the 
 power to conquer them. To many a man his self- 
 inflicted sufferings, or even his blind fear of mis- 
 fortune, soon render life intolerable, and he would 
 sink down before he had attained the goal of his 
 journey, did not his dread of the dark mystery of 
 the grave make him gird himself up, and recon- 
 cile him to the labors of the day. Already, dark 
 despair with dim-eyed frenzy approaches the brink 
 of the abyss, and resolves upon passing over into 
 the quiet land of death; but life puts on new 
 
18 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 smiles, and hope, which ever accompanies it, 
 plucks the dagger from the upraised hand. It is 
 the Divine will that we should live to ripen for 
 a higher destiny; therefore have we been bound 
 to life by the tenderest yet strongest ties. 
 
 Without this passionate love of life, the contin- 
 uation of our existence after death would be in- 
 different to us, and we should never earnestly set 
 about preparing ourselves for higher perfection. 
 But the passion for life is implanted in us, and 
 with it follows the desire for continued existence 
 even after the change in death. And to the hope 
 of eternity is joined the feeling of the necessity of 
 rendering ourselves worthy of a higher life here- 
 after. 
 
 Thus this inborn love, this instinctive clinajna; 
 to life, becomes to us a Divine revelation of the 
 continuance of our existence after death. And 
 not only has the Christian received this spirit-stir- 
 ring revelation through Christ Jesus, but to all 
 nations of the earth it has been vouchsafed. 
 
 The wildest savage who roams the woods in 
 still undiscovered lands looks with the same joy- 
 ous hope towards eternity as did the sage of an- 
 tiquity. 
 
 But man errs grossly when he allows this in- 
 stinctive love to degenerate into an unnatural and 
 tormenting passion for life, which leads him to 
 entertain an unreasonable fear of death, and to 
 place an exaggerated value upon existence here 
 on earth. 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 19 
 
 In many cases it is only a morbid state of the 
 body which causes us to surround death in imagi- 
 nation with shadowy terrors, — a tendency to mel- 
 ancholy, which, when permitted to gain ground, 
 harasses us with a constant and blind dread of 
 dissolution. Not the real change which takes 
 place in death, but the false images of it which 
 float before the imagination, are calculated to 
 awaken terror ; and these man has himself created 
 for his own torment. 
 
 This distressing tendency of mind is frequently 
 nothing more than the result of a too sedentary 
 life, and the consequent thickening of the humors 
 of the body, and the obstruction by these of the 
 delicate play of the nerves. It may sometimes be 
 more readily overcome by exercise, work, and 
 amusement, than by the best-founded consolatory 
 arguments. The condition of a person who is in 
 constant dread of illness, or of death, is very sad, 
 and it would be advisable to consign him to the 
 care of a skilful physician. 
 
 We ought never, either to ourselves or to 
 others, to depict death and the grave in more 
 sombre colors than in reality belong to either. 
 Gloomy images of this kind only serve to disturb 
 the imagination, and they exercise a baneful influ- 
 ence over weak minds. 
 
 The dying are as little conscious of the transi- 
 tion from life to death as the weary are aware of 
 the transition from the waking to the sleeping 
 
20 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 state. We have known many persons who on 
 the last bed of sickness have awaited with full 
 consciousness the moment of dissolution, and 
 have even predicted it. Their imaginations had 
 not been previously excited, they fell asleep smil- 
 ing and without a fear, as should every Christian 
 who believes in God, and who treasures up in a 
 pious heart a full trust in his infinite goodness. 
 That change which the spectator who stands by 
 the bedside sees in the face of the dying, they see 
 not themselves. Illness may be painful ; its cessa- 
 tion cannot be so. 
 
 When we shudder at the sight of the lifeless 
 corpse, which lies before us cold and stiff, pale and 
 breathless, having no sympathy with our feelings, 
 no pity for our tears, as though it had never 
 belonged to us, and never known us, this shud- 
 der is caused by self-deception only. If we look 
 narrowly into ourselves at such times, we shall 
 find that we pity the dead for all he has lost. But 
 he knows of no loss. We picture to ourselves 
 how tenderly he loved us, how he would fain have 
 remained with us, how he has been separated from 
 us by an unknown hand, and how vainly we 
 sought to keep him back. But the dead knows 
 naught of this, and even in his last days and 
 hours these sad thoughts and feelings were far less 
 vividly present to him than they are generally to 
 persons in health. He has vanished from the 
 realm of this life, and has left to us his ashes, his 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 21 
 
 earthly raiment, this icy statue, which we loved 
 when it was animated by the soul, but which 
 never belonged to him, and which will now return 
 to the elements out of which it was gradually 
 built up. 
 
 Not to death itself belongs terror, but to the 
 fancies we connect with it. Carry your mind 
 away from these to the simple fact, and it will lose 
 most of its gloom in your eyes. 
 
 Another unnatural deviation from the instinc- 
 tive love of life that God has implanted in us, is 
 the passionate clinging to life which many persons 
 evince, and the undue value which they attach to 
 it. Life has no value except in as far as we use 
 it for perfecting our souls, for enriching our minds 
 with nobler qualities, and for spreading happiness 
 around us. When we can no longer do this, 
 when, as in extreme old age, all hope of again 
 being able to exert ourselves in this way ceases, 
 then this life has lost its highest value, and a new 
 existence becomes desirable. 
 
 Exalted souls, ye know of nobler possessions 
 than life ! Ye who have gone to meet the hero's 
 death for the freedom and welfare of your father- 
 land and thousands of oppressed fellow-citizens ; 
 ye who, to uphold the truth of Jesus Christ's 
 religion, have courageously chosen the path of 
 the grave ; ye who have preferred death to a life 
 without dignity and without virtue, — ye knew the 
 true value of existence. Ye died courageously 
 
22 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 in the service of virtue, in the performance of 
 heavenly deeds. Your death is more enviable 
 than the life of thousands ! Ye blessed ones, ye 
 teach those that remain behind what their lives 
 ought to be. (Matt. xvi. 25.) 
 
 Life has no worth except through our virtues, 
 through the happiness that we prepare for others. 
 He therefore, who, like the animal, only lives to 
 satisfy his hunger and his thirst, without any 
 effort to prepare his mind for a future nobler ex- 
 istence ; he who lives merely to tickle his palate 
 with daintier viands and more exquisite wines than 
 other men ; he who lives but to clothe his body 
 in finer raiment than other men, to satisfy his 
 vanity and to display his miserable pride, — futili- 
 ties that must vanish on the brink of the grave, — 
 his existence has no worth, his death deserves no 
 tear. 
 
 Frequently, again, the passionate clinging to life 
 is but a consequence of too great a love and anx- 
 iety for those we may leave behind us. We trem- 
 ble at death because it will tear us from the arms 
 of a beloved husband or wife. We shrink back 
 from the grave because, when we shall descend 
 into it, dear children will stand around it, — poor 
 orphans without education, without protection, 
 without support. 
 
 For this reason we often see that young persons, 
 who have no innocent dear ones depending on 
 them, die more composedly than parents, whose 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 23 
 
 eyes are fixed lovingly upon their children. But 
 even in such cases the mind of a Christian ought 
 not to be overwhelmed by the fear of death. It 
 is not thou, O father, nor thou, O mother, who 
 hast hitherto protected thy child : it is God ! God 
 is the father of the orphan ; the same God who 
 watches over the life and the well-being of the 
 humblest worm. If he wills the welfare of thy 
 children, verily no human power shall prevail 
 against them. If God should call thee from them, 
 hasten joyfully to the Heavenly Father ; the time 
 will come when he will call thy children also. 
 
 2. The second chief source whence springs the 
 fear of death, is the turning away of men's hearts 
 from the eternal truths of religion. 
 
 You are, it is true, baptized in Christ ; you con- 
 fess him in the Holy Supper ; you perform the 
 customary rites of religion ; but do you also walk 
 in the spirit of Christ and of his commandments ? 
 Are you conscious of your God, and at one with 
 him in the depths of a pious heart? Do you at 
 all times walk in the ways of the Lord ? Do you 
 at all times aim at being just ? Do you do all 
 the good that is in your power ? Have you made 
 peace with your enemies ? Is your conscience 
 troubled by the remembrance of secret sins ? 
 
 The religious man stands highest in the human 
 scale on earth. With his eyes fixed on eternity, 
 with his hands stretched forth to do good, he walks 
 in and with God ; calm amid storms and tempests, 
 
24 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 blessed with the peace that God alone can bestow. 
 But never does the sublimity of religion appear in 
 a more beneficent light than in the hour of death, 
 or even when connected with the mere thought of 
 the tomb. It is then that its most blessed power 
 is revealed. 
 
 A sensual, uncultivated man, when he thinks 
 of death, feels the fearful isolation of his spirit, 
 and anticipates the annihilation of all that he pos- 
 sesses. What is his spirit when deprived of that 
 which has hitherto constituted its delights ? He 
 has never contemplated a higher destiny ; what is 
 to become of him then when he loses the earthly 
 things, which alone he knows and values ? He 
 is descending into the grave, and behind him 
 he leaves merry feasts, gilded honors, costly gar- 
 ments, the flatteries of parasites, the obsequious- 
 ness of dependents, the heaped-up treasures which 
 covetous heirs rush to divide. Poorer than the 
 beggar that used to hang about his door he stands 
 before the portals of eternity: he has lost his all; 
 he knew but one world, — his earthly home. What 
 is now to become of him? 
 
 O religion, O sweet peace of conscience, and 
 thou, O union of my soul with the Most High, 
 do not abandon me ! Alas for him who only 
 stretches forth his arms towards you, when all 
 earthly things are melting away ! Alas for him 
 who does not fix his eyes on a higher existence 
 until he feels this sublunary world giving way un- 
 der his feet ! 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 25 
 
 O Jesus, in thy holy revelation I will live, and 
 in it I will die. Blessed is the power of thy 
 word ; to it the power of death must yield. I live 
 to thee, and I shall not die. There is no death, 
 there is no grave ; it is but change and glorification. 
 God is no God of death ; he is our life. He cre- 
 ated life, and my spirit is his work. My spirit is 
 life, while it animates my body, and remains life, 
 when the dust, which for a time clothed it as a 
 garment, and which was to it as an instrument, 
 returns again to dust. 
 
 Heavenly and eternal Father, Source of all 
 being, thou from whom I spring, unto whom I 
 shall return, — thine I shall ever be ! Sweet is 
 life, in truth, but death has nevertheless no terrors ; 
 no fear of it shall overwhelm me, shall turn me 
 away from thee and from the path of virtue. I 
 hold as naught the days that I do not adorn with 
 good deeds ; I hold as naught a life which I cannot 
 glorify by virtue. 
 
 And me also, me also, O God, thou wilt call 
 unto thyself when my hour comes, when my earth- 
 ly goal is reached. Blessed shall I then be if I 
 can say unto myself, I have fought a good fight ; 
 as far as my powers allowed, I have completed a 
 life of well-doing ; the crown of eternal life awaits 
 me also ! 
 
 And when in the last hour I have to taste the 
 bitterness of death, to drain the final cup of trial ; 
 when my stiffened hand can no longer bestow a 
 
26 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 blessing on my loved ones, from whose sorrowful 
 eyes the tears of parting are falling on my pillow, 
 my closed lips can no longer utter words of love, 
 of love true unto death ; when the stir of the 
 world and all the sweet sounds of life cease to 
 fall upon my ear, — then, then, O Lord ! I com- 
 mend my soul to thee. Joyfully I turn away my 
 dimmed eyes from those who are dear to my heart, 
 for I know they are in thy keeping. Thou abidest 
 with them as thou abidest with me, forevermore 
 in the regions of eternal life. 
 
 No, I fear not death, Father of life! For 
 death is not eternal sleep ; it is the transition to a 
 new life, a moment of great and glorious trans- 
 formation, an ascension towards Thee. 
 
 Yet we cannot deem unpardonable the tear that 
 is wept over the bier of a beloved object. O 
 Source of all Love, thine eye penetrates our in- 
 most being. Thou seest the bleeding heart of the 
 mother standing by the coffin of her child, which 
 carries with it into the grave her brightest hopes. 
 Thou knowest the heart-rending grief of the 
 father who has,, by the death of a beloved son 
 or daughter, been bereft of every happiness in this 
 life. May thy Spirit, the blessed Comforter, pen- 
 etrate our souls, and inspire with its strength our 
 poor human hearts ! Alas ! we are but mortals. 
 We are overwhelmed by the power of the moment : 
 angels would in such moments praise thee ! 
 
 Finally, the death of our loved one sweetens our 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 27 
 
 own death, which leads us towards eternal reunion. 
 The affectionate words of Christ are an earnest to 
 us of a more joyful futurity. We also shall one 
 day be with our loved ones in paradise. Amen, O 
 God and Father! So be it. Amen. 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 Away, pale fear of death, away ! 
 
 Kejoice thyself in death, my heart, 
 The cold corpse will rejoin its clay, 
 
 And grief shall end, and pain's sharp smart, 
 And the well of tears shall dry 
 When the dust in dust shall lie. 
 
 Thou healest every wound, death ! 
 
 Thy touch at once each sorrow charms ; 
 As departs my failing breath, 
 
 Flee I unto angels' arms. 
 Though enclosed within the grave, 
 Light and freedom shall I have. 
 
 Father, for each earthly pleasure 
 
 Heart-felt thanks from me receive. 
 Thanks, should grief o'erflow the measure, 
 
 Father, still my soul shall give : 
 Shouldst thou take them both from me, 
 Yet more gladly praise I thee ! 
 
 (2 Cor. v. 1.) 
 
 COLD shudder seizes me at the thought 
 of death, and every fibre of my body 
 seems to struo-ole against the feeling of 
 dissolution and separation. And yet, 
 however much my whole being may revolt against 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 29 
 
 it, like others I must die. I see pass by me to the 
 grave the corpse of the child faded in the bud, and 
 of the old man worn out with years. The ashes 
 of the maiden, called away in her early bloom, min- 
 gle with those of the man whom some dire event, 
 some unforeseen accident, has cut oft' in the 
 prime of his manhood and activity. And my 
 corpse, too, will one day be laid among the rest. 
 
 Why am I alive ? Why should not death be as 
 familiar to me as life, as both come to me without 
 my will and without my knowledge ? 
 
 Sobbing with grief, the faithful husband stands 
 by the coffin of his dear partner, his second self, 
 her whom he called the better half of his heart ; 
 with similar grief a devoted child remembers an 
 affectionate father, or a gentle, loving mother, who 
 has been taken from him, alas ! too soon ; pain- 
 full v fall the tears of the sorrowing bride on the 
 cold clay of her beloved, whose death is to her the 
 death of every hope in life ; deep is the sadness 
 with which father or mother contemplates the little 
 grave which covers the remains of the darling child, 
 whose innocence and grace so often delighted their 
 hearts, and filled their views of the future with 
 soul-elevating images. 
 
 Wherefore do I weep ? And wherefore do you 
 weep, who have lost beloved ones ? Is it for the 
 dead, because they have to leave all that is dear to 
 them, — to leave a life which has bestowed so many 
 pleasures, and promises so many more ? O un- 
 
30 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 called-for compassion ! Do we pity each night our 
 dear ones when they fall asleep, or do we pity our- 
 selves when we go to rest ? Yet what difference 
 is there between sleep and death ? True, he who 
 falls asleep feels a profound assurance that with 
 the rising sun he will awake again with renewed, 
 strength ; while the dying has not so near a hope. 
 But when he awakes he will find instead of you 
 the long lost dear ones that have gone before him ; 
 he will find his God, who will be more to him 
 than you could ever be, poor orphans ! he finds a 
 blessed state that will endure forever ; nay, he will 
 in a short time even find you again. For what is 
 the duration of even the longest life on earth ? 
 Ask the old man of threescore and ten, and he 
 will tell you, — " So little have I retained of my 
 life, that it seems to me but a summer night's 
 dream of threescore minutes and ten." Then, 
 wherefore do we weep ? Even sleep causes sep- 
 aration ; and the separation in death, is it for a 
 much longer term ? 
 
 Nay, we ought to be able to say good night to 
 our dying friends with the same calm composure 
 with which we take leave of each other in the 
 evening, when, looking confidently beyond the 
 night, we enjoy in advance the pleasures of the 
 coming morn ; or we ought to whisper our friendly 
 farewell as though they were about to set out on a 
 safe journey to a pleasant land, to the house of our 
 Father, the home of our loved ones, whence an 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 31 
 
 invitation has gone forth to them, and whither we 
 shall follow erelonff. 
 
 In truth, when divested of all the gloomy sub- 
 ordinate circumstances with which my imagination 
 invests death, it is not so terrible. No one would 
 think of it as dreadful had he never seen a dead 
 corpse, — the pallor, coldness, and stony impassive- 
 ness of which causes a shudder; did he know 
 naught of death but that it is a transformation of 
 our souls, a passing away to a happier and more 
 blessed home. 
 
 It is to our imaginations we owe the gloomy 
 thoughts that most distress us ; in the fulness of 
 our health and strength, and our love of life, we 
 fancy ourselves in the place of the dying, and thus 
 we experience grief that he knows not, and endure 
 pains that he does not suffer. We fancy ourselves 
 in the dark tomb, and behold the members of the 
 body being converted into dust, and the grave 
 seems to us the end of all life. 
 
 But if we set aside these terrific images, the off- 
 spring of our own brains, which have no existence 
 in reality, we shall find little difference between 
 sleep and death. Numbers of persons, who in 
 their lifetime have entertained a most unreasonable 
 fear of death, have ultimately passed away with a 
 cheerfulness and serene composure which they 
 never expected. 
 
 It is still more unreasonable to picture to our- 
 selves the moment of the soul's parting from the 
 
32 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 body as especially painful. Whether this disrup- 
 tion causes suffering to the body, no one is able to 
 tell. The spasmodic twitching of the muscles 
 (which in many cases indeed does not take place) 
 is distressing to behold, but is painless as a sensa- 
 tion. With the exception of falling asleep, nothing 
 is so similar to the passing away in death as the 
 sinking of a person into a swoon ; yet he who 
 faints experiences little or no suffering before un- 
 consciousness ensues. Perhaps, if artificial stimu- 
 lants were not applied to restore to his nervous 
 system the power of serving the soul, he would 
 pass from the swoon into death without any further 
 sensation. Such also is the condition of all those 
 who, reduced to unconsciousness by excessive cold, 
 are eventually restored to life. Their limbs are be- 
 numbed, their blood flows slower and slower, and 
 finally the body stiffens as in death. The only 
 sensation they experience is unconquerable drowsi- 
 ness, and desire to lie down and rest ; and though 
 they may be perfectly conscious that sleep is likely 
 to end in death, they nevertheless brave it that 
 they may enjoy the delight of sleep. 
 
 It is thus established that the moment of dissolu- 
 tion has in itself nothing that is terrible, that very 
 few persons are clearly conscious of it, and that it 
 is the imagination of the survivors that invests it 
 with horrors. And yet even in this case it is not 
 the act of dying itself that seems so terrible, but 
 the thought, What shall I be when I have ceased 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 33 
 
 to belong to humanity, when I have -been stripped 
 of my human form ? It is this uncertainty as to 
 all that is in store for us that fills us with awe. 
 The darkness that envelopes the future makes us 
 rejoice doubly in the broad daylight that surrounds 
 us ; we learn to appreciate that which we possess ; 
 and we tremble at the thought of exchanging all 
 that is familiar to us for a state of which we can 
 hardly form a conception. 
 
 Had the wisdom of the Creator vouchsafed to us 
 in this life a knowledge of what is to come in the 
 next, verily the grave would cease to be a barrier, 
 and a small number only would await patiently the 
 natural hour of death. 
 
 But the very uncertainty in which we are left 
 constitutes the strongest tie that binds to life the 
 impatient and the frivolous, who are apt to be 
 thrown into despair by the slightest adversity, and 
 prevents them from cutting short the term of trial 
 appointed for them. It is this that surrounds death 
 with such awe, that all who are not bereft of rea- 
 son shrink back from it. 
 
 But even this uncertainty is only terrifying as 
 long as the future world seems far off ; in the hour 
 of death it changes character. Then it is the life 
 that lies behind us that appears dark and vague ; 
 while the future, with its new existence, is irradi- 
 ated by the light of certainty. The dying man 
 makes up his account with the world, once more 
 bestows his blessing upon his dear ones, and turns 
 2* c 
 
34 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 away from all- that he loves best, in order to shut 
 himself up within himself, and to pass over into 
 the happier existence. The past has no charms for 
 him ; he is attracted solely by the new world, on 
 the threshold of which he stands. 
 
 However, it is not to all that death loses its 
 terrors. It is with reason that the sinner trembles 
 when he beholds it in the distance, and still more 
 so when he finds himself inevitably face to face 
 with it. 
 
 But who is the sinner ? Every one to whom 
 this earthly life is all in all, and to whom the 
 Divine element in it is nothing ; every one who 
 lives for this world as were it never to end ; every 
 one who thinks more of the gratification of his 
 senses than of the improvement of his immortal 
 spirit ; every one who wastes year after year in 
 endeavoring to increase his earthly possessions and 
 dignities, who lives but to adorn his person, to 
 enjoy frivolous pleasures, to triumph over his rivals 
 and opponents ; in a word, to secure to himself 
 such earthly goods as seem to him most desirable, 
 while he feels it irksome to devote a moment to the 
 perfecting of his undying soul. 
 
 When such a one dies, his soul is in death even 
 poorer than in the first hour of his birth, when at 
 least it possessed the jewel innocence. He dies, 
 and his spirit sinks into nothingness ; for earthly 
 goods were everything to him, and he himself was 
 but an instrument of rude passions. What be- 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 35 
 
 comes of the soul, if made the slave of the body, 
 when the body, its master and idol, has been con- 
 verted into dust ? What becomes in death of the 
 accomplishments of the body, the artistic language 
 of gesture, the sportive wit of the moment, the 
 capacity for over-reaching and seducing others, the 
 power of flattery, the thousand little arts of vanity 
 and conceit ? They perish with the flesh. But 
 the poor neglected spirit, and the forgotten eter- 
 nity, — they endure ! Fearful as it may be, they 
 endure ; and the consequences of sin, and the 
 account to be rendered, and the judgment, and the 
 righteous before God, — they endure. 
 
 Lost one ! my soul is moved with sorrow at thy 
 lot. Angels may well weep over it ; but thou 
 hadst warning. God, nature, reason, the events 
 of the world, joy, misfortune, men, books, — all 
 preached it to thee, all recalled to thee thy higher 
 destiny ; all warned thee, now louder, now more 
 gently, now in threatening tones, now in imploring 
 accents, to remember the one thing needful. Lost 
 one ! Thou didst smile proudly, and thy pride 
 was thy god. Thou wert ashamed of being 
 good, — called it visionary enthusiasm, romance, 
 folly, to ask of thee to be truly, humanly noble, by 
 rising above thy dearest passions ! Lost one ! thou 
 hast prepared thine own destiny, and no angel will 
 alter the eternal laws of nature or of the world of 
 spirits. God is just, and no prayers, no sweat of 
 agony on thy pale forehead, can save thee ; thy life 
 
36 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 lies wasted behind thee, thy spirit passes, without 
 a hope of a better lot, into the new existence. 
 Thou hast enjoyed thy goods, and thou hast thy 
 reward. 
 
 Yea, most assuredly, a dreadful certainty awaits 
 him who in this life has lived but for the present, 
 as though it were not to be followed by a hereafter ! 
 But equally certain is that which awaits the right- 
 eous man who has quietly pursued the path of duty 
 and virtue, and who has preferred the well-being, 
 the peace, the happiness of those around him, to 
 his own. 
 
 He enjoys certainty. His heart tells him, thou 
 shalt not die entirely ; eternal love watches over 
 thee. Nature tells him so, when through her won- 
 ders he beholds, as through a veil, God in his 
 majesty, his infinitude, and his mercy. His relig- 
 ion, as revealed by Jesus, teaches it. He knows 
 that our earthly mansion, our frail body, will be 
 destroyed, but that we have a building, built by 
 God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens. (2 Cor. v. 1.) 
 
 What are the terrors of death to a noble mind ? 
 A play of the imagination, at which, not the soul, 
 but only what is earthly in us, trembles. Has not 
 Jesus Christ conquered for us the terrors of death ? 
 Did he not open for us joyful admission to the 
 Father, when he taught us to be perfect as our 
 Father in heaven is perfect ? 
 
 Though the body may shudder when about to 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 37 
 
 be reduced to ashes again, and it ceases to be an 
 instrument of the soul that until then had animated 
 it, the spirit of the righteous is at the same time 
 seized with holy transports : for it sees throughout 
 the entire universe Life only, nowhere death ; it 
 sees the mutual relations of all things, sees no link 
 wanting in the great chain of beings which the 
 almighty hand of God has woven. 
 
 Millions before me have fought the battle and 
 won the victory, and millions will do so after me. 
 Shall I alone, then, shrink back with vain and 
 cowardly fear from a death which is not death ? 
 Najr, let us depart courageously and cheerfully by 
 faith, if not yet by sight. (2 Cor. v. 7.) These 
 friends, these children, these loved ones to whom 
 my heart clings so tenderly, whenT part from them 
 will it be forever ? Nay, it is but separation for 
 the length of a summer night. Their congenial 
 souls will remain true to mine. The kind though 
 mysterious hand of Providence, which made us 
 find each other in the gloom of this life, will re- 
 unite us again in the bright daylight of eternal 
 being. God, whom the eternal Son, whom Jesus 
 calls Love, Love the purest and the highest, will 
 not destroy and tear asunder that love which he 
 himself created. No, the All-holy One, in whose 
 likeness we may grow through love and virtue, 
 will not allow love and virtue to fade with the 
 dust, from which they do not spring. 
 
 If, then, it be my Father's will that I should 
 
38 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 depart hence earlier than ye, whom he confided to 
 my care, — ye beloved ones, whom he bestowed 
 upon me, to gladden my life, — my last look will 
 dwell upon you with tender blessings, while eter- 
 nity is beckoning me away. The tears of sadness 
 ye weep at my death-bed shall be to me the last 
 test of your faithful love, which so often shed hap- 
 piness around me, and which can never die ! Ye 
 will cease to weep for me, but not to love me ; 
 and even in its heavenly abode, even amid the 
 pure transports it may there enjoy, my soul will 
 continue to love you, — that sentiment which God 
 implanted in it, I will lay again before his throne. 
 " Weep not," I will whisper to you in my last 
 hour ; " that is not death where innocence, virtue, 
 and holiness live*. Sin only is the death of the 
 soul. Flee sin, hold fast to God, act divinely in 
 as far as your powers will allow, and we shall 
 belong to each other and remain united there as 
 here." 
 
 Yes, henceforward I will walk more steadily in 
 the path of righteousness, and the terrors of death 
 will vanish before the consciousness of my growth 
 in goodness, as mist disappears before the rays of 
 the morning sun. How cheerfully have not num- 
 bers of noble mortals voluntarily encountered cer- 
 tain death for truth and right, for their country 
 and for the good of humanity ! They died in the 
 good cause as martyrs to their own nobility of 
 soul. Ye, exalted minds, ye prized sacred objects 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 39 
 
 higher than a life without merit, — prized the 
 duties of the spirit higher than a few brief hours 
 or years spent in the sensuous enjoyments of 
 earth. Ye esteemed death in the cause of God a 
 gain ; it was to you but as a change of garment, 
 and in reality was but this : you cast off the per- 
 ishable raiment, to clothe yourselves in the im- 
 perishable. 
 
 Ah, enviable fate, to breathe out the spirit in 
 the arms of God, while sacrificing an empty, 
 worthless life in the fulfilment of duty ! Jesus ! 
 such was thy death, the death that redeemed the 
 world ! Ah ! could such be the death of all thy 
 followers, could mine be such ! May it be my lot 
 to give up my spirit in the midst of well-doing, 
 and while surrounded by the blessings of a world 
 rendered happier through my exertions ! 
 
 Finally, what attractions has this earth that 
 should make parting from it so difficult? The 
 desire of the righteous is to be forever growing 
 in righteousness. Can the opportunity be ac- 
 corded here below for this continued growth? 
 No, this holy craving can only be satisfied after 
 they awake in the higher existence. 
 
 And the joys of this life, — though I am far 
 from holding them lightly, for they are the gifts 
 of God, — how fleeting are they not! How quick- 
 ly do we not tire even of the greatest pleasures 
 of earth ! What have we gained, when we have 
 obtained all that we have lusted for ? What, but 
 
40 FEAR OF DEATH. 
 
 the constant repetition of a drop of honey mixed 
 with a drop of gall ? None of this world's pleas- 
 ures is quite unalloyed. 
 
 Thou fearest death, O feeble mortal ? What 
 then wouldst thou gain by an unusually prolonged 
 life ? Thou wouldst see the friends of thy youth, 
 thy children, all thy loved ones, descend before thee 
 into the grave ; thou wouldst find thyself at last 
 alone in the world, a forlorn stranger, no longer 
 having aught in common with it. Thou wouldst 
 stretch out thine arms longingly towards those 
 that had gone before thee, and thou wouldst weary 
 of the empty hours of thy earthly existence. 
 Thy protracted life would become to thee but a 
 painful burden, which thou wouldst willingly con- 
 sign to the arms of death, that thou mightest 
 hasten free and joyful towards the beloved spirits 
 that await thee yonder where no sorrow, no part- 
 ing, no tear is known ! 
 
 Yes, O my Saviour, I will become what thou 
 demandest of me, — a true child of God, useful, 
 loving, delighting in well-doing, without hatred 
 or vanity or covetousness, pure as thou wert, 
 divine Friend of man ! Then for me the grave 
 will have no terrors ; then death will be to me 
 only the easy passing from dreaming to waking. 
 
 And when I shall awaken into the eternal, 
 more blissful existence, O Jesus, Revealer of 
 eternity ! God, bountiful Dispenser of the 
 never-ending bliss of our spirits ! what holy trans- 
 
FEAR OF DEATH. 41 
 
 ports fill my being at the mere thought of what 
 I shall then enjoy ! The grave is my cradle, 
 death is my awaking, the sunset of this life is the 
 sunrise of existence in the regions of eternity ! 
 
 Ah, ye dear ones, who have gone before me ! 
 ye tenderly beloved ones, whose sacred memory I 
 still honor here on earth with my tears : how my 
 heart yearns for you ! — And I shall once more 
 be with you. Though more perfect than I, ye 
 still love me as I love you. It is love that 
 binds together the spirits of distant worlds, that 
 forms the link between heaven and earth ; there- 
 fore its flame can never die out in my heart ! 
 And this love shall sanctify me, this hope of re- 
 union shall be my safeguard against all tempta- 
 tions to sin. Towards you are directed all my 
 wishes, — fain would I again blend my being with 
 yours. Therefore will I devote my whole soul to 
 God and virtue, that through God I may find 
 vou. I fear death no longer \ It is but the mes- 
 senger of God, sent to liberate me, to lead me to 
 you. 
 
 Soon ! soon ! shall all be done, — 
 
 Peaceful rest I, Lord, in thee ; 
 Thousands have the victory won, — 
 
 I, too, shall win the victory. 
 Louder in death than Nature's voice, 
 My heart outcries, Have faith ! — Rejoice ! 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 Could we silence every tongue, 
 Love ! thy praise would still be sung. 
 Sun and moon, and stars above, 
 All bear witness, God is Love. 
 Silent heights, depths, earth and heaven, 
 Soul ! by thee is witness given. 
 
 Labor's impulse, peaceful hour, 
 
 Joy in living, come from thee. 
 I — what am I ? whence my power 1 
 
 Gave a foe this strength to me 1 
 Say, are speech, ear, sight, and feeling 
 Tokens of love, or hate's revealing 1 
 
 O, I feel thee, and before thee, 
 
 Father of Love, in praise I fall ; 
 For that I am I will adore thee, — 
 
 Join the chorus, creatures all. 
 Love gave me life, and from above 
 Bestows all good, because 't is Love. 
 
 (1 St. John iv. 3.) 
 
 ^Ijff OD is Love ! How constantly is not 
 tins thought — the most comforting; of 
 all to an anxious human heart — re- 
 ^ produced in the prayers and writings 
 of Christians, and yet how few quite comprehend 
 it ! and, more deplorable still, how few have full 
 and unswerving faith in this blessed truth ! 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 43 
 
 Heaven and earth proclaim it, for every law of 
 nature bears witness to it ; reason also bids us put 
 faith in it, — the revelations of Jesus Christ 
 preach it, — and yet how vague and uncertain 
 is the belief in it in the most human hearts ! 
 
 All the nations of antiquity have said it : God is 
 the wisest and purest Love. The most enlight- 
 ened as well as the least civilized peoples of the 
 present day profess it. Yet all have witnessed 
 many fearful events seemingly in contradiction 
 with this faith. They have seen dreadful wars 
 that have struck down the hopes of nations, — 
 wars which have been permitted by God: and 
 they have been terrified at the thought that these 
 evils were sent by the God of Love. They have 
 seen floods and inundations devastate whole coun- 
 tries ; they have seen earthquakes shake the earth 
 to its very foundations, cities and villages engulfed 
 in the fiery abyss, and millions of human beings 
 destroyed in a moment. They have seen moun- 
 tains give way and bury under their ruins popu- 
 lous regions ; they have seen a single tempest 
 sweep every ship from the seas, and famine and 
 pestilence convert smiling landscapes into deserts, 
 — and with doubting hearts they have asked, Can 
 all this havoc be the work of a loving God ? 
 
 No ! cried a voice in their bosoms ; and yet the 
 dreadful events would force themselves upon their 
 memory. Hereupon they endeavored, by the 
 light of their immature reason, to solve the ap- 
 
44 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 parent contradictions in the government of the 
 world, and thus they came to believe, not only in 
 the loving Father of all, but also in an evil being, 
 who is ever contending against his goodness. 
 Their childish imaginations created two deities 
 of almost equal might, and placed both, as antago- 
 nistic powers, on the throne of the universe. 
 They loved the Good Deity, and brought him 
 thank-offerings ; and they feared the evil deity, 
 or the Devil, and endeavored to allay his enmity 
 by prayers. 
 
 In this manner the ignorant heathens interpret- 
 ed the origin of evil in the world, which their 
 weak understandings, and their imperfect concep- 
 tions of the greatness of God, could not reconcile 
 with his goodness. In consequence, the idea of a 
 mighty evil spirit, opposed to God, was introduced 
 among the Jews also, when they dwelt among the 
 heathen during the Babylonian captivity ; and this 
 notion of a Devil, as the author of all evil in the 
 world, was again transmitted from the Jews to the 
 Christians, Jesus and his Apostles having, when 
 addressing Jews, made use of figures of speech 
 which would be likely to be understood by the 
 people. 
 
 This ungenerous notion, so incompatible with 
 the omnipotence and omniscience of God, is per- 
 haps hardly worthy of a refutation. There is no 
 God but God ! He, and he only of all beings, is 
 the Lord of the living and the dead. He alone 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 45 
 
 rules the destinies of the worlds, as those of the 
 humblest worm in the dust. 
 
 Thus thinks the Christian. But unfortunately 
 the conceptions which a great number of Chris- 
 tians form of the all-loving God are not therefore 
 more exalted, but frequently (hard as it is to 
 believe) even less pure than those of the heathen. 
 When the heathen found it impossible to reconcile 
 the goodness of God with the evils of life, he in- 
 vented, as a means of explaining the contradiction, 
 a second deity, an evil being, but he did not ac- 
 cuse the God of goodness of being the author of 
 evil, and did not attribute to him low human, or 
 rather animal passions. Many Christians, on the 
 contrary, who as such believe of course in one 
 God only, seeing the many ills that afflict human- 
 ity, explain these by conceiving of God as a 
 God of vengeance, as an angry God, a jealous and 
 inexorable God, who punishes the faults of a mo- 
 ment (for is man's life on earth more than a brief 
 moment ?) with the sufferings of eternity, and 
 who takes revenge for the sins of the fathers on 
 their innocent offspring, — actions which, if com- 
 mitted by a human being, would rightly be con- 
 sidered as execrable and unjustifiable. 
 
 These ideas of the Most High originated at a 
 period when the human race was still in its in- 
 fancy, and when men hardly formed a higher con- 
 ception of God than that of a very powerful human 
 being, and when they even depicted the Deity in 
 
46 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 human form. These are remnants from the time 
 when Mpses exhorted the Israelites, and when he 
 was obliged to use expressions that could make an 
 impression on their hard hearts. For what were 
 the children of Israel, at the time they were led 
 out of Egypt ? Were they not rude and ignorant, 
 without instruction, without education, accustomed 
 only to bondage under their Egyptian masters, 
 obeying only when they felt the lash over them ? 
 Did they not make unto themselves idols of gold 
 and stone, and worship these as they had seen the 
 Egyptians worship their idols ? Did they not even 
 do this after Moses had preached to them that 
 there was but one Almighty God, and no other 
 God? 
 
 To be able to guide such a people and to ac- 
 custom them to strict obedience to the heavenly 
 precepts, Moses was obliged to address them in 
 accordance with their usual modes of thought. 
 Children must be spoken to in terms different 
 from those which would be used to grown-up 
 persons, and ignorant, uncivilized nations cannot 
 be addressed in the same language as thinking, 
 highly cultivated peoples. 
 
 However, even after the Israelites accepted the 
 laws of Moses, and faithfully conformed to them, 
 these ruder conceptions of God, meant only for 
 their fathers, when they came out of the Egyptian 
 bondage more than a thousand years previously, 
 continued to prevail among them. And as the 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 47 
 
 first Christians had been for the most part Jews, 
 it followed as a matter of course that they took 
 their conceptions of God over into Christianity 
 with them. And thus they have descended from 
 generation to generation, even unto our day, and 
 have been maintained, partly by the circumstan- 
 ces of the times and society, partly by the circum- 
 scribed knowledge of many teachers, partly by 
 erroneous interpretations, and applications of cer- 
 tain passages in Holy Writ. 
 
 We, however, will hold fast by that alone which 
 Jesus Christ taught and revealed. And he, the 
 Eternal Son, described the Father as the purest 
 Love, in whom there is no particle of evil, — as 
 the all-perfect Being, in whom consequently no 
 human passion or weakness can dwell, who is alike 
 incapable of jealousy, of anger, of vengeance, and 
 of repentance. He blames the outbreak of such 
 passions in man, — how then could he find them 
 praiseworthy in the highest Being, in Him who is 
 most emphatically Love and Goodness? 
 
 But how, if God knows neither anger nor ven- 
 geance, but only love, how has evil come into the 
 world ? Who, then, is the author of all the mis- 
 ery and suffering we behold on earth ? Thus asks 
 the doubting Christian, suffering man, who knows 
 not how to account for the existence of so much 
 woe. If God is the Author of all things, is he 
 not also the Author of evil ? And how am I to 
 reconcile this with his wisdom and goodness, nay, 
 even with his justice ? 
 
48 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 What can I answer to this, poor doubter, other 
 than in the entire universe there is no evil but sin f 
 And sin is the work of man, springing from that 
 freedom with which God has endowed him, to 
 will and to do right or wrong. 
 
 Now, as in the Divine creation everything is 
 just and good, all that is wrong and unjust, so to 
 say, isolates itself ; and when man wills evil, he feels 
 the suffering that attends this dissociation. This 
 suffering, however, tends to reform and enlighten 
 him, so that he may no longer act against God's 
 order of creation. And to God's ordinances be- 
 long, not only the laws of nature around us, but 
 also the laws within us. 
 
 We are, therefore, ourselves the 'principal authors 
 of our sufferings, by rushing, in our blind passions, 
 headlong against the eternal and unyielding rules 
 of creation. Thus a child is the author of its own 
 pain, when from ignorance it wounds itself with 
 dangerous weapons ; but the pain is the beneficent 
 teacher of prudence. Again, a child is the author 
 of its own suffering, when from wilfulness, disobe- 
 dience, obstinacy, or thoughtlessness, it partakes of 
 things that are injurious to its health ; but this suf- 
 fering is the beneficent inculcator of forethought 
 and virtue. 
 
 The Divine laws that rule on earth are, that we 
 should grow daily in wisdom, in knowledge, in vir- 
 tue, and in godliness. Pain and suffering are man's 
 guides to perfection. And even had wisdom and 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 49 
 
 virtue never been preached to men, nature's silent 
 language would have taught it to them. 
 
 It is true there are many evils in life which can- 
 not be said to be the consequences of our acts. 
 When hail-storms destroy the growing corn, when 
 war lays waste our homes, when the plague devas- 
 tates the country, when floods or earthquakes swal- 
 low up flourishing cities and their inhabitants, — 
 what can poor, helpless men do to stay the powers 
 of nature ? how can they struggle against the 
 might of God ? And yet these are terrible evils, 
 — and yet God is Love. 
 
 Yea, even amid the most fearful and destructive 
 phenomena of nature, let it be proclaimed, God is 
 Love. 
 
 For, after all, what is it that those terrible rev- 
 olutions destroys ? The earthly form of man, — 
 not his real self, not his immortal spirit. And can 
 we call the end of all earthly evils an evil ? And 
 is not death the conclusion of the earthly and the 
 commencement of the higher existence ? Now, 
 when thousands and thousands of human beings, 
 fathers with their children, husbands with their 
 wives, die at the same moment, struck down by 
 some natural catastrophe, in accordance with the 
 plans of Providence, — is there in the event it- 
 self any very great difference from death caused 
 by sickness or such like ? Would not those that 
 perished at all events in a few years have gone 
 home to the Eternal Father? If death is not an 
 
 3 D 
 
50 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 evil, then neither is earthquake, or flood, or pesti- 
 lence, or any natural event which is destructive of 
 human life, an evil to those who are thereby re- 
 moved from this earth. It is only to the survivors 
 that the grand spectacle of the destruction is ter- 
 rific. But why ? Because they see therein a proof 
 of the weakness of mortal man, and they tremble at 
 the thought of the power of the Most High. But 
 does this give us reason to despair of God's love ? 
 If that were so, then every case of death would 
 afford similar reason. But who would be guilty 
 of the folly of doubting God's love, because men 
 draw nigh to the goal of their destination ? 
 
 The sufferings endured by the victims of the 
 catastrophes alluded to are often more painful than 
 the death which puts an end to them. But these 
 bodily pains, which are founded in the order of na- 
 ture, afford no reason for attributing to the Deity 
 cruelty or a love of vengeance. Such sufferings 
 are only temporary, and when bodily pain grows 
 beyond endurance it generally terminates in a 
 swoon, and the patient becomes insensible. God's 
 beneficent hand has thus ordained it ; and more 
 than this, he has ordained that by the side of every 
 mortal affliction there shall grow compensatory joy, 
 which the sufferer may cull if he chooses. Life on 
 earth is but a many-colored series of changes. 
 
 But the physical pains which we endure during 
 our earthly career are, like all other suffering, 
 beneficent teachers. They warn us not to forget 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 51 
 
 how fleeting, how mutable, how unreliable is 
 everything that belongs to earth, and is born of 
 earth. They warn us not to attach too great 
 value to these things, and rather to occupy our 
 spirits with that which is unchangeable, eternal, 
 and divine. He who does this can never be quite 
 stricken down either by poverty, or sickness, or 
 abandonment, or the death of his loved ones, or 
 any other misfortune. He is exalted above the 
 fluctuations of earthly happiness, and looks towards 
 eternity. 
 
 There are other Christians who think that, hav- 
 ing conceived of God as an infinitely perfect 
 Being, they must not attribute to him any human 
 qualities, not even the most sublime and lovable 
 virtues which grace humanity. For, they say, 
 that which is the most exalted in man, and which 
 presents itself to the human mind as such, may, in 
 the Deity, be no more than imperfection. Thus 
 they maintain that, although that which we call 
 love may be the highest jewel, the paradise of 
 human life, we can nevertheless not conceive of 
 such love as moves us, as an attribute of the Deity ; 
 for we stand much too low in the scale of beings 
 to be able to comprehend the perfection of God. 
 
 To many persons this mode of viewing the mat- 
 ter may seem most likely to be the true one ; but 
 if I ask them, Does it give them peace and happi- 
 ness ? they must answer, No ; for if we divest God 
 of the attribute of love, we stand indeed alone in 
 
52 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 the world, with no one to turn to for consolation, 
 and life becomes a dark and insoluble riddle. 
 Those who think thus do not deny God, it is true ; 
 but they deny the possibility of our forming a just 
 and adequate conception of him. 
 
 Miserable men ! you confess that your views 
 fail to render you happy : but why is this ? Be- 
 cause you are at variance with yourselves or with 
 your own reason. Bring your reason again into 
 harmony with yourselves and with the universe, 
 and you will reconquer your peace of mind. 
 
 It is true that we cannot approach even to a 
 faint conception of the full measure of God's being. 
 But it is as true that God is, as that you are. 
 And this once admitted, your reason cannot but 
 add, that he is the most perfect of all perfect 
 beings. For all imperfection is the reverse of 
 divine. 
 
 It is undeniable that human reason, when form- 
 ing to itself a conception of the Highest Being, 
 must divest this being of all feelings and passions 
 which have their origin in earthly nature, — such 
 as anger, hatred, rancor, cruelty, or vengeance. 
 For how can we form to ourselves an idea of him 
 as the most perfect of all beings, if we do not 
 attribute to him the highest perfection within our 
 power of conception ? Why, therefore, this self- 
 contradiction ? Why this hesitation to ascribe to 
 the highest Being the highest perfection ? How 
 do we gain any knowledge of God, except through 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 53 
 
 the great works of his creation ? Is not our 
 reason the gift of God ? Is it not through this 
 reason that he has revealed himself to all nations ? 
 Do we not behold before us his works, in which 
 he has given us a standard, though an infinitely 
 small one, by which to measure his greatness ? 
 
 If you refuse to conceive God as a perfect Spirit, 
 you cannot conceive him at all. Then God has 
 made your reason a lie, and has surrounded you 
 with meaningless phantasms. If you conceive 
 him as a being lifeless, yet wonderfully animating 
 and setting in motion the whole universe, — as a 
 powerful machine devoid of self-consciousness, but 
 which causes the worlds to roll in their meas- 
 ureless orbits, and makes the sap to rise in the 
 veins of the most insignificant lichen, according to 
 eternal laws, — then you make self-conscious man 
 more perfect and more divine than God ; and 
 reason, truth, and revelation you reduce to empty 
 sounds. 
 
 If, on the contrary, you conceive God, your 
 God, the God of the Universe, not as a lifeless 
 being, who performs his wonderful works uncon- 
 sciously (it seems madness even to suppose this), 
 O, then, honor in him the sublimest idea which 
 he affords you of himself. You fear that, sub- 
 lime as it may be, it is unworthy of his Majesty. 
 Nay, those ideas which he has himself enabled 
 us to form cannot be unworthy of him. See, 
 the high heavens, star-spangled with innumerable 
 
54 GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 worlds, paint an image of themselves on the retina 
 of your eye ; and yet how small is your eye and 
 how immeasurable are those distances, how illimit- 
 able that space, which the most highly cultivated 
 reason suffices not to calculate or to fathom! 
 Nevertheless it is through this miniature picture 
 on the glossy surface of your eye that you are 
 alone able to discern them, and admire them, and 
 thus also the infinite God ! He mirrors his per- 
 fection and his greatness, which no mind can com- 
 pass or fathom, on the eye of the mind. 
 
 Love for what is great, good, beautiful, holy, 
 perfect, prevails throughout the spiritual world ; a 
 loving Wisdom reveals itself in all the wonders of 
 heaven and earth ; and what God speaks to you 
 through the evidences of his power, would you 
 deny it ? You dare to pronounce man sublime in 
 his holy love, and you hesitate to declare God to 
 be the purest Love ! When man willingly sacri- 
 fices life and all its joys for love of God and virtue, 
 how exalted does he not appear to us ! And yet 
 you can doubt that God is Love ! Does, then, 
 man bear within himself something more divine 
 than God? 
 
 Away with these fallacies, bred of human soph- 
 istry and one-sided science. Thou, O God, art 
 Love ! Not in vain hast thou endowed us with 
 this sentiment and this feeling, which links soul to 
 soul, the living to the dead, and is but a ray of thy 
 infinite perfection, which mirrors itself faithfullv in 
 
GOD IS LOVE. 55 
 
 the spirit of man. Thou art love, and naught but 
 love ! Does not the whole creation proclaim it ? 
 Do not the events of my own life bear witness to 
 it ? Does not Jesus Christ, the Divine Enlight- 
 ener of man, declare it? 
 
 Thou art Eternal Love ! Thou wilt never dis- 
 unite what thou hast united in spirit ; thou wilt 
 never, O Father, separate us, thy children, from 
 thyself. Thou didst not in vain send Jesus to us, 
 to guide us to thee. Thou wilt never, O Father, 
 dissever the loving spirits which thou hast led 
 together here on earth. As they belong to each 
 other here, so will they belong to each other here- 
 after. They will be reunited in thee, thou centre 
 of all that is spiritual and of all that is blissful ! 
 
 O exquisite thought ! O inspiring hope ! God 
 is Love, and whosoever dwells in love can never 
 feel forsaken, and can never cease to exist ! 
 
THE CONSOLATION OF THE PA- 
 TIENT SUFFERER. 
 
 Be strong, my soul, although to-morrow 
 
 Each earthly joy were from thee torn ; 
 Have courage, though the bitterest sorrow 
 
 Should leave thee comfortless to mourn. 
 Upraise thee, groveller, from the dust, 
 In soul to grasp thy God, and trust ; 
 
 Be worthy of the glorious lot 
 Which He who died for thee, the Son, 
 Has for thee from the Father won. 
 
 This life 's a dream that lingereth not. 
 
 Striv'st thou with zeal to bless thy kind, 
 
 Still on thy country's good intent, 
 Were the whole world against thee joined, 
 
 Ne'er of thy righteous zeal repent. 
 Let neither wile nor mock of sin 
 Stifle the still, small voice within, 
 Nor hinder thee from deeds of love. 
 Thy heaven is in the realms above. 
 
 (2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.) 
 
 H HE most virtuous Christian ought al- 
 ready here on earth to be the happiest, 
 yet this is not always the case. It is 
 4 true, Religion sheds her soothing balm, 
 her heavenly peace, through the hearts of her wor- 
 shippers, so that even in the deepest depths of 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 57 
 
 their miseries they cannot be utterly wretched ; 
 she affords them an anchor in the wildest tempest, 
 a star to guide them through the darkest night. 
 But there are hours, there are days, when even 
 this anchor seems to give way, when even the 
 light of this star seems to grow dim. There are 
 hours and days when even the consciousness of 
 our uprightness, the sense of our own worth, the 
 remembrance of our virtues, far from soothing our 
 distress, only increase it, nay, overwhelm us with 
 an excess of anguish. In such an hour it was that 
 Jesus, bowed down in the dust, shed drops of 
 bloody sweat, and cried, " O my Father, if it be 
 possible, let this cup pass from me ! " In such an 
 hour it was that he stammered with dying accents 
 on the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou 
 forsaken me ? " 
 
 Sufferings of an unusual nature may indeed at 
 times even shake our faith. When we find that 
 we — though full of resignation to the ways of 
 Providence, of unwavering trust in the eternal 
 love of God, of affectionate sympathy for the weal 
 and woe of our fellow-beings, and though devoting 
 ourselves industriously to the duties of our office — 
 are visited by misfortune and affliction, while bad 
 men bask in the smiles of fortune, revel in well- 
 being, rise in the world, though totally devoid of 
 merit, and know no sorrow and no suffering, — 
 ah, how pardonable is at such times the groan of 
 the deeply depressed Christian : " Of what use is 
 3* 
 
58 THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 my virtue, of what avail are my prayers so full of 
 heart-felt devotion, of what avail my endeavors for 
 the good of others, or the many sacrifices I have 
 so frequently made to principle ? See, vice is ex- 
 ultant ; and virtue is scorned. The railer against 
 God triumphs ; fear of God, innocence of mind, 
 are scoffed at as folly ; and the worshipper of God 
 weeps lonely in the dust. No one approaches 
 lovingly the poor, deserted sufferer ; even God's 
 mercy seems to have turned away from him. Is 
 then the order of the world, such as God created 
 it, antagonistic to all that is called religion and 
 piety ? Are noble hearts predestined to suffer ? 
 Does the Ruler of the universe crown only un- 
 scrupulousness, base crime, and cunning shame- 
 lessness ? — Where am I ? Why was I taught by 
 Jesus to treasure a pure heart as above all price, 
 when this heart is, more than any other, exposed 
 to every grief? " 
 
 What has the pious Christian done, that the 
 thunder-cloud of war should burst destructively 
 over his cottage ? Perhaps his sons, the hopes of 
 his life, have been murdered, his daughters dishon- 
 ored, his goods destroyed, his means of subsistence 
 taken from him. As a helpless beggar he must 
 struggle with want all the rest of his days, and 
 totter to the grave without a friend to comfort and 
 sustain him ; while worse men than he have en- 
 riched themselves by fraudulent means, and pass 
 through life honored, loved, and flattered. What 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 59 
 
 has the child been guilty of, who is tortured by 
 sickness which it has not brought upon itself, and 
 has to drag on through a blighted life with an 
 unhealthy body ? He grows into youth and man- 
 hood, — but of what avail are his ardent prayers 
 for health to the Hearer of all prayer ? They are 
 not answered. Of what avail is his pious heart, 
 his keen desire to be useful to others ? He lives 
 and dies in helpless misery, while others in the 
 enjoyment of blooming health seem only to have 
 received the fulness of strength from Heaven, to 
 enable them to inflict the more evils on the world. 
 
 Yes, who can venture to deny it? There are 
 sufferings in the world, the spectacle of which 
 tempts us to doubt the rule of an all-just Provi- 
 dence, and the value of piety and virtue ; when 
 our faith and trust give way, and unconquerable 
 melancholy takes possession of the soul. 
 
 But even during such moments of despair a 
 friendly voice from heaven cries to our heart in 
 the words of Jesus : " Come unto me, all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest." The only fountain of consolation, therefore, 
 when reason fails to supply such, is the religion of 
 Jesus. Whither, indeed, should we flee, when the 
 world deserts us, but to the arms of God, in whose 
 might we dwell ? 
 
 And however furiously the storms of life may 
 rage around us ; though every door of escape may 
 seem closed against us ; though -the light on our 
 
60 THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 path through life be extinguished ; though the last 
 friend depart from us ; though our grief and dis- 
 tress may have reached their climax, life and death 
 be struggling for mastery within us, — God is still 
 our God ! Whatever happens is still his work, 
 and the work of the most exalted love. That 
 which he withholds from our earthly part will 
 form the strength of our immortal soul ; that 
 which we have lost, and may still lose, was and 
 is only transitory, and to lose it we must all be 
 prepared ; but our spirits are enriched by the 
 bereavement, are brought closer to God thereby. 
 
 Therefore, courage, unswerving principle, and 
 faith, even in the hour of bitterest trial ! He will 
 not abandon thee, He will not forsake thee, though 
 all earthly blessings fail thee, if thou do not for- 
 sake him ! Who has ever promised thee that the 
 things of this world should be other than fleeting ? 
 Who has ever promised that thy sweet dreams 
 should prove eternal ? And even if, like Job, 
 thou hast been deprived of thy best, thy all, what 
 is it that thou hast lost ? — Mere dust and ashes ! 
 " The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away ! " 
 
 If thou keepest up thy courage and thy faith, 
 thou hast lost nothing ; for God is all in all, and 
 all else is naught. And God will be near to thee, 
 for thou art his creature; thou art an object of 
 his care, of his love ! God remains near thee, 
 even when the world to thy dimmed eye is 
 shrouded in darkness, and the wings of death 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 61 
 
 are waving above thee, — for the goal of thy spirit 
 is eternity. 
 
 Blessed wilt thou be if, at the end of thy life's 
 journey, thou canst say, with proud consciousness 
 of how thou hast passed through every trial : "I 
 have fought a good fight, I have finished my 
 course, I have kept the faith ! " 
 
 It is an error to believe that virtue can be 
 rewarded with earthly goods, with riches, honors, 
 health, and all kinds of human enjoyments. No, 
 the spirit cannot be rewarded with what belongs 
 to the flesh ; its rewards must be spiritual. The 
 spirit's nature is immortal ; its joys must be im- 
 mortal like itself. Only in as far as we are 
 human, that is to say, sensuous beings, do we 
 seek for sensuous pleasures. These, however, fall 
 to our lot, or are withdrawn from us, quite inde- 
 pendently of our virtue and piety. They are the 
 results, partly of our prudence and judgment, 
 partly of our honest industry, partly of the confi- 
 dence with which we have known how to inspire 
 others. They are partly, or indeed entirely, the 
 consequences of the wise ordinances of the Ruler 
 of the world, according as he finds one or another 
 auxiliary means better adapted to the qualities of 
 our souls. 
 
 It is therefore erroneous to conclude, that be- 
 cause a man is visited by corporeal privations, and 
 suffers from the loss of earthly goods, that this is a 
 punishment of God. It is likewise a mistake to 
 
62 THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 look upon wealth, honors, and other gifts of for- 
 tune as rewards bestowed by God. The noblest, 
 most faithful Christian is often subject to the 
 greatest privations. The most audacious rogue, 
 who mocks at religion, often accumulates the 
 largest fortune. A more glorious recompense 
 awaits the righteous ; a more terrible punishment 
 than mere bodily privations awaits the sinner. 
 
 It is true that parents encourage their children 
 in obedience by bestowing earthly rewards on 
 them ; it is true that princes requite the merits of 
 their subjects with riches and honors, — not that 
 virtue can be paid for in so much money, but 
 because princes, not being divinities, cannot requite 
 services, cannot testify their esteem, except through 
 the bestowal of earthly tokens. 
 
 On the other hand, the sufferings to which as 
 mortals we are subject are either self-imposed, — 
 in which case, they are painful consequences of 
 the abuse which we have made of the gifts and 
 capabilities with which God has endowed us, of 
 transgressions against his rules, and thus thev are 
 indeed punishments inflicted by sin upon itself, — ■ 
 or they fall upon us without any fault of our own ; 
 and in this case, it is God's will that they should 
 be to us what the gifts of fortune may be to 
 others, — means for ennobling and perfecting our 
 souls. And thus all Suffering at length conduces 
 to the triumph of the victorious spirit, and opens 
 to it a more glorious career in eternity. God is 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 63 
 
 just ! Throughout the creation there is nothing 
 wrong or unjust. Everything leads upward to 
 a glorious end. God the rewarder lives ! And 
 what, after all, are the sufferings of this earth 
 when compared to the glory to which they con- 
 secrate us, by endowing our souls with higher 
 strength, power, and dignity ? 
 
 Besides, the wisdom of the Most High has so 
 ordained it, that no pains connected with earth can 
 endure forever. Only he who suffers damage in 
 his soul, who fails to improve his spirit, — only he 
 loses eternally ; because he neglects that which is 
 eternal. Habit deprives even the most appalling 
 evils of their terrors, and makes the heaviest bur- 
 dens lighter. No suffering endures for very long. 
 For every wound, however painfully it bleeds, 
 time has a soothing balm. Night {$ ever followed 
 by morning, storm by calm. We are dwelling in 
 the realm of the transitory ; and as no joy endures 
 forever, so also sorrow, want, and anxiety are but 
 fleeting clouds in our sky. 
 
 Sustain thy courage, persevere in well-doing, 
 keep thy faith and trust in God, and thou wilt 
 come triumphant out of the struggle, thy brows 
 encircled by the crown of glory, which God, the 
 Rewarder, bestoweth. 
 
 Thou art pining in helpless poverty, and can 
 see no end to thy tribulations. Thou hast labored 
 honestly and industriously, and yet hast laid by 
 no store, and each succeeding day makes thee 
 
64 THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 tremble more and more for the future. Though 
 faithful in the fulfilment of the duties of thy vo- 
 cation, though trustful in thy prayers to the Giver 
 of all good gifts, thou nevertheless sinkest deeper 
 and deeper into poverty and misery. Instead of 
 diminishing, thy difficulties increase every day 
 with fearful rapidity ; thou seest no means of res- 
 cue. Before thy family lies a future full of pain 
 and privation, — before thyself a life robbed of 
 honor and happiness. Yet man thyself, O un- 
 happy mortal ! and though all forsake thee, for- 
 sake not thou the path of virtue. Though every 
 hope break faithlessly away from thee, do not 
 loose thy hold on God ! Save the innocence of 
 thy soul, and thou wilt have saved everything. 
 Many have been more deeply involved even than 
 thou, and yet have been wonderfully rescued by 
 Providence. Fight a good fight, and keep thy 
 faith. Even when all have forsaken thee, God 
 is still thy God. 
 
 And thou, who never sparedst labor or pains 
 when thou couldst promote the well-being of thy 
 fellow-citizens ; who didst sacrifice the best years 
 of thy life, fortune, time, and rest to the welfare 
 of others, — why dost thou chafe at the heartless 
 ingratitude of men ? They requite thy love with 
 shameless calumny, thy noble-mindedness with 
 baseness, thy sacrifices with scorn, thy fidelity 
 with contempt and desertion. Malice triumphs, 
 prejudice prevails, thou succumbest. Yet be of 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 65 
 
 good heart, fight trustfully the good fight to the 
 end. There is One who does not misjudge thee ; 
 there is One who will deal justly by thee. He 
 is the Omniscient, the Rewarder ! Did Jesus 
 do less than thee ? Did the world reward him 
 better ? 
 
 Thou who art stricken down in the prime of 
 thy strength by painful illness, that deprives thee 
 of all enjoyment and all hope in life, — despair 
 not ! As regards thy earthly prosperity, those 
 hours are indeed lost which thou sighest away on 
 thy bed of pain ; but to thy soul they are not 
 lost. In these bitter moments of agony thou art 
 securing higher gain. Thou who once stood 
 there so proudly in the fulness of thy health and 
 strength, who wert so rich in plans for the future, 
 — thou acknowledgest now with fear and trem- 
 bling the hand of a Mighty One above thee, 
 which rules the fate of worlds, and of the mean- 
 est creature. It is his will that has fixed thy 
 destiny. It is true thy wealth will suffer, now 
 that thy arm fails that kept it up ; it is true thy 
 children, almost uncared for, move like orphans 
 round thy bed, casting sad and anxious glances 
 at thee ; it is true deep sorrow gnaws at the heart 
 of thy loving spouse, though she endeavors to 
 hide it from thee, — yet do not despair ! A strong 
 arm upholds thee, — the arm of Divine Provi- 
 dence. And should even thy illness become still 
 more painful, thy fortune still more impaired, thy 
 
QQ THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 prospects still more hopeless, God is still thy God ! 
 Fight the good fight in thy hours of suffering, 
 and keep thy faith. Not as thou seest it, but as 
 God ordaineth it, will be the fate of thy children. 
 And shouldst thou be doomed to part from thy 
 loved ones, should the tears in the eyes of thy 
 dear relatives be the first tears of the last parting, 
 — then blessed art thou ! The Father of all is 
 calling thee a few moments earlier into the better 
 world. We shall follow thee in a few brief hours, 
 after another short dream. Why sorrowest thou 
 with faithless anxiety for those who will linger 
 on earth but a short time after thee ? Who cared 
 for thee, when no mortal watched over thee ? Is 
 thy God not also the God of thy dear ones ? 
 
 And thou who with loving heart hast attached 
 thyself, as thou thoughtest, to a congenial mind, 
 and sought the happiness of life in this friendship 
 only, — why art thou so downcast ? Because that 
 heart deceived thee? Because those lips only 
 feigned the love which thou gavest with all thy 
 soul ? Because those eyes falsely smiled on thee ? 
 Because thy faith was responded to with base 
 perjury, and thy tenderness requited with shame- 
 less treachery? Unhappy mourner, thou hast 
 indeed lost much ; thy experience has perhaps 
 forever embittered thy gentle heart, and robbed 
 thee of thy faith in mankind. The treachery 
 thou hast met with has perhaps rilled thy heart 
 forever with disbelief in human virtue. Thou 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 67 
 
 hast no longer a friend in whom thou canst trust, 
 to whom thou canst devote thyself. Thou stand- 
 est alone in the world ; and without friendship life 
 has no attractions for thy delicately moulded soul. 
 Nevertheless, bear up manfully. Thou, also, pre- 
 pare to fight the good fight of the Christian ; be 
 generous-minded to the last ! God is faithful, 
 though none else be so ! If the whole world 
 deceive thee, there is One who never deceiveth. 
 He is thy God, the God of truth and love, the 
 God who endowed thy soul with its tender yearn- 
 ings. Even shouldst thou be doomed to pass 
 through life without an earthly friend, One 
 Friend remaineth to thee, — the Eternal Father, 
 thy Creator ! If those who are dearest to thee 
 abandon thee, let this play of shadows, this con- 
 stant shifting of the sublunary scene, strengthen 
 thy spirit in self-dependence, and lead thee closer 
 to what is eternally true and lasting, — to God. 
 
 Wherefore weepest thou, sorrowing widow, by 
 the coffin of thy husband ? And thou, faithful 
 child, on the grave of thy father, thy friend ? 
 And thou, disconsolate mother, by the bier of thy 
 infant ? What is it that they bear to the grave ? 
 Is it not merely the mortal coil ? Or can spirits 
 die and moulder away in the ground ? Why 
 fixest thou thine eyes, sore with weeping, on the 
 earth ? Ah ! that which hath fled from thee, that 
 which thy eye seeketh, is not there ! Lift thine 
 eyes to Heaven, let them penetrate the boundless 
 
68 THE CONSOLATION OF 
 
 universe ! Thy friend is there. The mysterious 
 power which animated the dust, and which we 
 call soul, the same that so often smiled lovingly 
 on thee through tender eyes, that spoke to thee 
 from friendly lips, now with solemn earnestness, 
 now with joyful mirth, — it has gone to God, is 
 with God, has entered into more glorious con- 
 nections, into higher spheres of action, is more 
 elevated, freer, happier, more perfect than thou ! 
 Why, then, turn thine eyes upon the grave ? the 
 ashes that lie buried there were only a borrowed 
 raiment, did not belong to the immortal being, — 
 were but an instrument useful for a short time 
 here below, now no longer needed. The soul 
 has finished its course in this world, has fought 
 the fight, and kept its faith. Henceforth it wears 
 the crown of immortality ! Man thyself, O 
 mourner, and thou, also, prepare to fight the good 
 fight. The loved one whom thou hast lost will 
 one day advance to meet thee at the gate of 
 eternity, to greet thee as a glorified companion, 
 and will cry unto thee : Here, also, God is thy 
 God! 
 
 O God ! O Father ! thou art also my God, 
 my Father ; why, then, should I be bowed down 
 with grief? Why weakly yield myself up before 
 my course is finished, before I have fought the 
 good fight to the end ? O give me strength, 
 give me power ! whatever suffering thou mayst 
 impose, I will bear it, for it will bring me nearer 
 to thee ! 
 
THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 69 
 
 Father, for each earthly pleasure 
 
 Heart-felt thanks from me receive, — 
 Thanks, should grief o'erflow the measure, 
 
 Father, still to thee I give. 
 Shouldst thou take them both from me, 
 Yet more gladly praise I thee. 
 
 In the sweet and smiling spring, 
 
 When true friends around me stand, 
 Though each hour new joys may bring, 
 
 Hopes fulfilled as soon as planned,— 
 Yet I sadly seem to see 
 All earth's joys are vanity. 
 
 What to Earth and Time, though bright, 
 
 Is the joy that can enchain ? 
 No, my spirit strives with might 
 
 Immortality to gain. 
 Only one pure joy I see, — 
 Holy, and in God to be. 
 
 Soon, soon ! shall all be done, 
 
 Peaceful rest I, Lord, in thee ; 
 Thousands have the victory won, 
 
 I, too, shall win the victory. 
 More loudly yet than thunder's voice, 
 My heart outcries, believe, —rejoice ! 
 
 Yes, I believe, till life shall close, 
 
 The God I trust will ne'er forsake. 
 On him, in hope, will I repose, 
 
 Although the last fond tie should break. 
 Can I but hold him for my own, 
 Then shall I never stand alone. 
 
 Look, Lord, with pity on my tears, 
 Behold my cares, —my fallen state ; 
 
70 THE PATIENT SUFFERER. 
 
 Comforter, come, relieve my fears. 
 
 O, I am left so desolate ! 
 Sustain me, Helper ; ease my smart ; 
 Send joy and peace into my heart. 
 
 And yet, Father, not my will, 
 But thine alone, be done on me. 
 
 Though, like the patient Jesus, still 
 I wander through Gethsemane, 
 
 At last, my God, when all is done, 
 
 The glorious guerdon shall be won. 
 
THE SICK. 
 
 In silence will I bear the pain 
 
 Which God has sent me by his will, — 
 
 Ne'er will I murmur nor complain ; 
 
 Although he wound, he loves me still, — 
 
 In sickness not the less God's child 
 
 Than if the world around me smiled. 
 
 True to himself, God changes never, — 
 
 Wise, mighty, merciful, forever. 
 
 (St. Matt. xxv. 36.) 
 
 MONG the manifold misfortunes that 
 may befall humanity, the loss of 
 health is one of the severest. All 
 the joys that life can give cannot 
 outweigh the sufferings of the sick. Give the 
 sick man everything, and leave him his sufferings, 
 and he will feel that half the world is lost to him. 
 Lay him on a soft, silken couch, he will never- 
 theless groan sleepless under the pressure of his 
 sufferings ; while the miserable beggar, blessed 
 with health, sleeps sweetly on the hard ground. 
 Spread his tables with dainty meats and choice 
 drinks, and he will thrust back the hand that 
 proffers them, and envy the poor man who 
 thoroughly enjoys his dry crust. Surround him 
 
72 THE SICK. 
 
 with the pomp of kings ; let his chair be a throne, 
 and Ins crutch a world-swaying sceptre ; he will 
 look with contemptuous eye on marble, on gold, 
 and on purple, and would deem himself happy 
 could he enjoy, even were it under a thatched 
 roof, the health of the meanest of his servants. 
 
 Hence the sight of a sick person is painful to 
 all. Who can behold without pity and emotion 
 the wan cheek, the dimmed eye, and the ema- 
 ciated form ? Even the rude warrior checks 
 his ruthless passion at this sight, and spares the 
 sufferer. 
 
 A sick person is a sacred object to every Chris- 
 tian, and ought to be so. Even levity grows 
 earnest at the side of the sick-bed. 
 
 Perhaps thou wert once thyself such a pitiable 
 object ; if so, remember the days of thy suffer- 
 ing. Thou didst then gain great and weighty 
 experiences. Come with me in spirit now to the 
 bedside of a languishing fellow-being, and renew 
 there the thoughts and resolves of those days. 
 
 But if thou hast not yet learnt what it is to lose 
 health, the day may come when thou shalt make 
 that sad experience. Prepare thyself like a sage 
 against that time of trial. Learn to love the sick 
 and to nurse them with tender care, that thou, 
 like them, mayst one day be thus honored and 
 tended. 
 
 Disease is not necessarily connected with life. 
 Originally man was made perfect in all his parts. 
 
THE SICK. 73 
 
 Thousands go through life without ever having 
 experienced any derangement of their physical 
 organization. To them even approaching death 
 brings no illness. They die because the last drop 
 of life's oil in their lamp has been consumed ; they 
 sleep away in sweet weariness, like the reaper in 
 autumn when his daily task is completed. 
 
 If we have not inherited the germs of disease 
 from our parents, it is generally to our own im- 
 prudence or thoughtlessness that may be attrib- 
 uted the loss of life's best gift, — the health of 
 our bodies, — the partial destruction of the instru- 
 ment through which our souls are to work and 
 do useful service. 
 
 In every case, observe the nature of thy body, 
 and regulate thy life accordingly. Observe its^ 
 laws in thy nourishment, thy drink, thy pleasures, 
 and thy mode of working in thy vocation. Nev- 
 er forget that one single hour of intemperance 
 may be the parent of long years of suffering. 
 Never forget that one moment of guilty self-for- 
 getfulness in the midst of joy, suffices to poison 
 thy cup of bliss. 
 
 Man's body is not his inalienable possession ; it 
 is a loan from the hand of God, which we shall 
 one day have to give up, — an instrument of the 
 spirit, without which the latter cannot fulfil its 
 appointed work on earth. If man deserve pun- 
 ishment for sin, then assuredly he deserves it 
 when he sins against his own body ; for he there- 
 
 4 
 
74 THE SICK. 
 
 by robs himself of the joy of life, and of the 
 capacity, for a long time, and perhaps forever, of 
 doing as much good as he might otherwise do. 
 
 Not only do we, by carelessness of our health, 
 render ourselves incapable of fulfilling adequately 
 our duties to God, our country, and our fellow- 
 citizens, to strangers, and to friends ; but we may 
 even, though subsequently apparently restored to 
 health, in reality have hastened the approach of 
 the hour of death. The man wanting in moder- 
 ation — whether it be, that with careless pre- 
 sumption he expose himself unnecessarily to 
 danger, or that by exaggerated care he render 
 himself over-delicate — may be said to be a self- 
 murderer, though against his will and desire. 
 
 Again, the germs of disease are often trans- 
 mitted from parents to children : the maladies 
 of one generation thus become the ailments and 
 sufferings of a distant posterity. Therefore guard 
 reverently the health of your bodies, that your 
 children may not one day upbraid you with their 
 diseases ; that the follies of one brief moment of 
 your existence may not become a source of mis- 
 ery to your children's children ! It is this that 
 the Scriptures allude to, when they say, the sins 
 of parents are punished unto the third and fourth 
 generation. 
 
 Often place yourself, in spirit, by the bedside 
 of the sick. It may be to you a school of wis- 
 dom. When the sunken eye and deathly pallor 
 
THE SICK. 75 
 
 of the poor sufferer make you tremble, the re- 
 solve will he strengthened in you to avoid every- 
 thing that may injure your own health. 
 
 But watch not only over thyself; watch also 
 over the health of thy companions. Tempt not 
 others to immoderate pleasures ; lead them not 
 into dissipation that may breed disease. What 
 satisfaction will it be to thee, when thou hast 
 robbed them of the sweet bloom of health, when 
 thou hast become, as it were, the destroyer of 
 their best joy in life ? 
 
 Nevertheless, this is a point in regard to which 
 even good people, without malice and without 
 premeditation, but in the tumult of pleasure, so 
 frequently err. Their example and their en- 
 couragement excite weaker persons to indulge 
 in undue gratifications. In the very endeavor 
 to give their friend a proof of affection, they 
 frequently become his poisoner, his destroyer. 
 Neither the malice nor the cruelty of man is so 
 dangerous as his thoughtless levity. 
 
 Honor, O Christian, in thyself as in others, the 
 sanctity of health ! Perform towards the sick 
 the holy duty of benevolence ! 
 
 Be a friend to the sick, as was Jesus, that sub- 
 lime example of what we ought and what we 
 ought not to be. Did he not go, with helping 
 hand, to the bedside of the sick ? Was it not he 
 who lovingly called unto him the lame and the 
 blind, the leper and the man sick of the palsy ? 
 
76 THE SICK. 
 
 Was he not the refuge of all sufferers? Did 
 they not let themselves be carried unto him, 
 when they learnt that the Divine Friend of suf- 
 fering humanity was nigh? Thou, who callest 
 thyself Christian, be a Christian in truth, — fol- 
 lower of Jesus, be what Jesus was ! 
 
 It is time, thy hand can perform no miracle ; 
 but it can perform acts of kindness ! Thy arm 
 cannot raise up the hopelessly sick, and place him 
 again in the blooming realm of health, nor can it 
 stay death ; but it can lovingly support the weak. 
 At thy bidding, it is true, all pains will not van- 
 ish ; but thy words may comfort, may give coun- 
 sel and cheerfulness to one whom every earthly 
 joy fails because he lacks health. 
 
 " I have been sick, and ye have not visited 
 me ! " will be the words of Jesus to those who 
 have uncharitably left the sick without tender 
 care. 
 
 Help, more especially, the poor sick stranger ! 
 Those that are at home will be tended by their 
 sorrowing relatives. The rich will not lack nurs- 
 ing, for every one will be willing to minister to 
 them, and they have the means of procuring for 
 themselves all that they require, and everything 
 that may tend to soothe their sufferings. But 
 who is there to minister to the poor? Perhaps 
 not even an unfeeling; hireling. Who is there to 
 take care of the suffering stranger ? Ah, perhaps, 
 no one, while his brothers and sisters are grieving 
 over him at a distance. 
 
THE SICK. 77 
 
 You often long to be able to do some good. 
 You think, perhaps, that when you have chari- 
 tably given alms to the beggar in the street, you 
 have done enough. But how little is this ! God 
 has given you more, far more than this ; and yet 
 how helpless and poor did you not come into the 
 world ? Go, and give more than alms. Remem- 
 ber the words of Jesus, and let them resound in 
 your hearts : " What ye have done to the least of 
 these, ye have done to me." 
 
 Go forth and visit the abode of poverty and 
 misery, and behold there the hungering father and 
 the starving mother on the comfortless bed of sick- 
 ness, with no one to nurse them, no one to advise, 
 without a doctor and without medicine, surrounded 
 by terrified and weeping children : there is the 
 post of honor for thee ; there is the field in which 
 thou art called to sow blessed seeds for eternity ; 
 there is the path that will lead thee to glory. If 
 God have bestowed upon thee in rich measure, or 
 even in moderation, the goods of this earth, then 
 seek out the poor families in thy neighborhood ; 
 inquire how they live ; find out if there be any 
 sick among them, and if so, be thou their minis- 
 tering; angel ! 
 
 In many cases the alms which you fling to a 
 professional beggar in the street are no more than 
 an encouragement to his laziness, a premium to 
 his want of thrift and order. But could you be- 
 hold with your eyes the interior of many a poor 
 
78 THE SICK. 
 
 home, those eyes would weep tears of blood. It 
 would startle you to discover such nameless mis- 
 ery in a hovel at the side of the pomp and luxury 
 of the neighboring palace. You would shudder, 
 at the thought that, in a Christian city, there could 
 be so much unalleviated suffering, — so much un- 
 known sorrow among so many thousands of joyful 
 beings. Though the sick Lazarus, covered with 
 sores, may not in our day always be found out- 
 side the rich man's door, endeavoring to stay his 
 hunger with the crumbs that fall from the rich 
 man's table, he may be found in a dwelling close 
 by, where his groans are heard by the omnipres- 
 ent God alone. 
 
 If it be in thy power, remember the sick stranger 
 with charitable institutions for his benefit. It was 
 one of the most praiseworthy customs of our fore- 
 fathers that, when blessed with riches, they ap- 
 plied part of these to founding pious and char- 
 itable institutions. God bestowed upon them 
 bountiful superfluity, and by their last testaments 
 they gratefully returned a share of it to God. 
 Their pious hearts, which called God the Father 
 of all, were open to love of their poorer fellow- 
 men ; and when the time came, the needy were 
 found numbered among their heirs. 
 
 In many places, this excellent, truly Christian 
 custom is only occasionally followed ; in others, it 
 has ceased to exist. Our fathers died, but to this 
 day thousands of sick persons, who are nursed in 
 
THE SICK. 79 
 
 the institutions founded by their benevolence, send 
 up grateful prayers for their unknown and long 
 deceased benefactors. Will future generations 
 pray thus for us? O, ye wealthy of the earth, 
 your children's children will glance with indiffer- 
 ence at the marble mausoleums you have erected 
 for yourselves. They will smile contemptuously 
 at the futile vanity which made you surround 
 yourselves with pomp even in the grave. A grate- 
 ful tear shed by a poor sufferer who had been re- 
 lieved in an institution which perpetuated your 
 kindness, even after your death, would have been 
 of more worth than the cold drop which the artist's 
 chisel fashions on the marble statue above your 
 graves. This tear will crumble away with the 
 stone in which it is cut ; the poor man's tear will 
 be registered in heaven. 
 
 Let us return to the good old custom of our 
 fathers ; let us remember on our bed of sickness 
 those helpless sufferers who have no one to take 
 care of them as we have ; and let us contribute to 
 allay their pains, even after God has put an end 
 to ours. 
 
 Honor, wherever thou meetest them, the suffer- 
 ings of thy sick fellow-creature. Wert thou not 
 liis friend before, become so when he suffers. 
 Wert thou even once his enemy, go to him, and 
 be reconciled. If he have offended thee, go to 
 him and pardon him his trespass, that he may part 
 from thee and from life with a more cheerful 
 
80 THE SICK. 
 
 spirit. If lie have reason to be angered with thee, 
 go to him and seek his forgiveness. Let no one 
 depart from thee in anger, that in eternity there 
 may be no being willing to stand forth and accuse 
 thee. 
 
 Sooner or later thou mayest thyself be thrown 
 upon a bed of sickness. No balm, no draught will 
 then be so potent to soothe as the thought, that no 
 fellow-being bears anger against thee ; that though 
 many a kind heart will send a sigh of regret after 
 thee into eternity, not one will curse thee ! 
 
 Glorify thy Christian faith in thy hour of suf- 
 fering, by patience and pious resignation to the 
 will of thy Creator, who has ever guided thee, 
 and who will be thy guide henceforward as 
 heretofore. And glorify thy faith in God's provi- 
 dence by quiescent trust, and calm abiding, and 
 cheerful resignation. Wish not for dissolution, 
 neither fear the quiet sleep of death. Millions 
 have died before thee, millions will die after thee ; 
 it is the Divine law that rules the universe ; it is 
 for the good of the world. Thou hast indeed 
 died many a time already. As often in thy life 
 as thou hast fallen asleep, thou hast tasted death, 
 for it is but the last sleep. It is not thyself that 
 sleepest away, but only thy body. Thy soul 
 sleepeth not; it keeps vigil with God, it lives 
 near him, it draws nigh to more blissful spheres, 
 and smiles at its own past fears. 
 
 And suppose thy illness should not prove deadly, 
 
THE SICK 81 
 
 but that thou art destined to recover. Is this, 
 then, so great a happiness ? Thou wilt step back 
 from the open grave only to approach it again in 
 a few years. Thy earthly dream will be pro- 
 longed for a few moments, and thy entrance into 
 the glory of the better world which awaits thee, 
 according to Jesus's promise, will be delayed for a 
 few days. 
 
 Even on thy bed of sickness, cease not thy 
 works of charity. Even on thy bed of sickness, 
 do good without ceasing. Shouldst thou in the 
 days of health have neglected to do it, do it now 
 while there is yet time. Let not a day of thy life 
 pass by without an act of Christian love. The 
 remembrance of thy well-doing will be thy happi- 
 ness in death. 
 
 But in sickness as in health, at all times alike, 
 the true Christian is ready to exchange the transi- 
 tory for the eternal. Not that it would be right 
 to dwell constantly upon the subject of death. 
 Nay, it would be folly to mar by sad thoughts the 
 many blessings which we receive here below from 
 the bountiful hand of God. But live as if thou 
 wert to be called away from this world suddenly 
 and unexpectedly. Prepare thy soul that it may 
 be ready to depart at any moment. Put thy 
 house in order, that, when sickness and death 
 overtake thee, thou shalt be found to have fulfilled 
 thy every duty towards those that depend on thee. 
 Put thy house in order. Attend at all times to 
 
 4* F 
 
§2 THE SICK. 
 
 thy avocations with such care and fidelity, that 
 thy relatives, when they lose thee, may not have 
 to sustain a double loss, — a twofold trial. When 
 in health, thou providest for those that be- 
 long to thee with tender solicitude ; but reflect, 
 would they be provided for, if, this very day, 
 some untoward accident should suddenly tear thee 
 from them, and to-morrow they should stand 
 alone with tearful eyes, without thee to lean 
 upon ? Flatter not thyself with the hope that 
 thou wilt have time during long and lingering ill- 
 ness to put thy house in order. Dost thou not 
 each week see men called away in the prime of 
 their manhood ? Dost thou not see others whom 
 protracted illness has deprived of all power and 
 desire to attend to serious business ? 
 
 The true Christian proves himself such by 
 being ever ready, ever prepared in all his rela- 
 tions, whether as a citizen of this world or of 
 eternity. He passes cheerfully and composedly 
 through life, for his accounts, both as regards this 
 world and the next, are at all times made up. 
 
 Thus let it be with me, my God and Father ! 
 The best Christian is the greatest man on earth. 
 He looks with equal calm to the past and to the 
 future ; he stands in equally happy relations to 
 both. He is a true hero, for while gratefully 
 enjoying the pleasures of life which thou, O 
 Father, vouchsafest to him, his spirit dwelleth in 
 anticipation in the realms of eternity. He is 
 
THE SICK. 83 
 
 above every accident, for none can take him by 
 surprise ; lie is greater than any fate that may 
 befall him, for trusting in thee, O my God, his 
 spirit soars above all sublunary things. 
 
 Such let me be, let me become ! Let my death 
 be such that it may teach others how to live ; and 
 let my life be such that it may teach others how 
 to die joyfully ! Thus lived, thus died, my Sav- 
 iour. He who won heavenly bliss for me, Jesus, 
 my divine teacher. He was the faithful friend 
 of the sick, — their adviser, their comforter. I 
 will be the same, as far as my feeble powers will 
 allow. 
 
 Yea, Father ! be thou my relief; 
 My comforter in pain and grief, — 
 
 Make sickness' self a gain to me ; 
 Draw my heart, all sad hearts that bleed, 
 Through all their pangs, in every need, 
 
 Unto thy love, and unto thee. 
 
 Jesus ! to thee my heart appeals, — 
 O help ! for thou art he who heals. 
 
 The sorest pain canst thou make light, 
 Our sickness e'en thou send'st to bless, — 
 Thou art our refuge in distress, 
 
 Our tears are ever in thy sight. 
 
 To thee my trust, my faith, shall hold. 
 
 never let my love wax cold, 
 Health, sickness, whatsoe'er befall. 
 
 Then can no pangs my spirit shake, 
 
 1 joy to bear them for thy sake. 
 
 My grateful heart gives thanks for all. 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 Part I. 
 
 Let everything that liveth praise the Lord ! — 
 Deep in our spirit the responsive chord 
 Awakes devotion, and a holy joy 
 Which knoweth no alloy. 
 
 Try him, and prove him, and see how bountiful he is. 
 Truth and compassion, tender love, are his. 
 Reigning forever, o'er us and around, 
 Still is his mercy found. 
 
 Let everything that loveth, love the Lord ! 
 High on his throne, by all the saints adored, 
 Seraph and cherub, — all the heavenly host, — 
 Happiest, who love him most. 
 
 Thirst then, our souls, like the blest souls above, 
 Holy and happy, evermore to love 
 Him who created us, who keeps us still 
 By his most gracious will. 
 
 All hail ! "We love him evermore. The dust 
 Loves its Consoler, puts in him its trust. 
 All eager longings he will satisfy, — 
 Tears he himself will dry. 
 
 (St. Matt. v. 8.) 
 
 WILL lift myself out of the slough 
 of this world, I will rise above the 
 storms of this life, and lay hold on 
 those higher things that afford lasting 
 peace of mind, indestructible happiness. What 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 85 
 
 is to me the noisy tumult of the world, amid 
 which I never feel perfectly satisfied, — where 
 every light has its shadow, and where every joy 
 has its attendant woe ? Can I there live entirely 
 to myself, entirely possess myself? No, I am 
 there the victim of every evil ; of care, and 
 trouble, and vain wishes, of wrecked hopes, of 
 sad events, and of wearisome pleasures. I am 
 never less lonely than when, alone, engaged in 
 silent meditation, I lift up my soul to thee, Lord 
 of all destinies. I pity those who have never 
 enjoyed such an hour, and happily their number 
 is small ; for even to the most frivolous worldling 
 there comes at length a moment — perhaps, in- 
 deed, it comes sooner to him than to others — 
 when pleasure palls upon him, when he feels 
 society a burden, or, at least, when he derives 
 but little gratification from it ; when he yearns 
 for something different, when, meditating on the 
 worthlessness of the life of trifling he leads, he 
 begins to have a presentiment of a better state, 
 and ardently to desire it. 
 
 And yet he fails to lay hold on it. For it seems 
 to him incredible that it should be in the bosom 
 of the highest wisdom, in the sanctity of religion, 
 that he is to seek for it. Religion, as he feels it, 
 inspires him with too little respect. It is to him 
 no more than a confused medley of vague and 
 disjointed sentences and precepts, which have 
 remained in his memory since childhood, but 
 
86 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 which he has never reflected upon or endeavored 
 to systematize. He wonders that people should 
 affect to find therein matters of such importance, 
 and perhaps he smiles compassionately at their 
 folly ; and he returns, though with failing heart, 
 to his former mode of life, to his accustomed 
 amusements, soon again to weary of them, and 
 soon again to feel that he has no joy in such ex- 
 istence. 
 
 So far, indeed, he is right : the disconnected 
 fragments of Biblical phrases learnt by rote in 
 childhood, which he calls his religion, and which 
 he discards from his thoughts the moment the 
 church service (which he attends merely because 
 it is customary so to do) is over, that is in truth 
 a poor religion. But this has no affinity with the 
 religion which Jesus the Messiah revealed to us. 
 His religion is not a matter of memory, nor a 
 matter of routine, but a living power of God in 
 the human soul. 
 
 However, thousands drag on through life in 
 this way, following their craft, their art, their 
 trade, then studies ; allowing themselves, in times 
 of war as in times of peace, to be consumed by 
 fleeting pleasures and long-enduring pains. They 
 commit their happiness, their contentment, to the 
 rule of chance ; believe that they can after all do 
 nothing towards -securing it themselves; and are 
 totally ignorant that it is in man's power to be 
 lastingly happy, — to enjoy, here on earth already, 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 87 
 
 a foretaste of heaven. At length, possibly, they 
 learn to despise all pleasures, and sometimes be- 
 come discontented grumblers whom nothing can 
 satisfy, — haters of then kind, and despisers of 
 their own life, because they have not leamt to 
 know true pleasure. 
 
 There are again others, wiser than these, who, 
 strengthened by religion, or animated and exalted 
 by nobler sentiments, do not deny the value of 
 this worldly life. But they deplore the fleeting 
 character of all pleasure. " I also was at one 
 time thoroughly happy, and enjoyed a foretaste 
 of Heaven," say many. " I seemed to be steeped 
 ill happiness. But — how soon did not my dream 
 vanish ! Yes, it was but a dream, and now it lies 
 far behind me in the realm of the past, like a 
 fading shadow. Soon the very memory of it will 
 be almost lost to me. I shall then continue my 
 way through the monotonous dulness of every- 
 day life, as through a desert." 
 
 Let every man take a retrospect of the days 
 that lie behind him, reflect upon them, and then 
 ask himself: "Which period of my life was the 
 happiest? Which was the sweetest moment I 
 ever enjoyed ? " 
 
 Many of us will at once recall to mind the in- 
 nocent days and delights of childhood, those. days 
 when life was colored with the rosy light of morn. 
 Then the merest trifle seemed a treasure, a flower 
 was a jewel in our estimation, and a walk our 
 
88 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 greatest happiness. Everything was invested in 
 our eyes with a higher significance ; our own joy- 
 ous souls seemed to infuse themselves even into 
 the lifeless things that surrounded us, and we 
 talked to and loved objects that could not return 
 our affection. With happy carelessness we skipped 
 over the thorns in our path, and whatever wounded 
 us was forgotten as soon as the tear was dry that 
 the pain had called forth. O, what brilliant 
 prospects all thoughts of the future then conjured 
 up ! What great expectations did not others en- 
 tertain in regard to us, and did we not ourselves 
 entertain as to what we should perform in later 
 years ! " Yes ; that was the happiest period of 
 my life ! " many will exclaim. 
 
 I believe it ; yet, when I look nearer into the 
 matter, it seems to me that each age has its own 
 pleasure which God has ordained for our enjoy- 
 ment. It cannot be our destiny to remain chil- 
 dren forever, — who indeed would wish it to be 
 so ? Who would desire to return to that dream 
 of the past, out of which we see every child long- 
 ing to emerge, that it may take part in the pleas- 
 ures of an older age ? It would be sad were 
 there no higher felicity in life than that of the 
 child, for that we can never recall. It seems to 
 me that that only can be the highest happiness 
 which each human being may, with a resolute 
 will, renew at any time. 
 
 But let us examine more closely what consti- 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 89 
 
 tuted our happiness when we were children. Was 
 it the outward things that surrounded us ? Was it 
 riches, pomp, and honors ? Ah, no ! Seated on 
 a heap of sand, we thought ourselves richer than 
 kings ; with a few boards we built ourselves pal- 
 aces ; a little picture would fill us with delight. 
 Why was this ? Surely the source of these joys 
 lay ivithin us, not in the outward world. We 
 were content with what we possessed, and, like 
 the bee, we sucked honey even from the lowliest 
 flower. We took no care for the morrow ; for 
 we believed that each day had its own joys, and 
 we thought only of the present. If we had rai- 
 ment and food sufficient, we asked not for more. 
 We had light hearts ; and although we knew 
 then, in reference to the smaller things of life, as 
 well as we do now, in reference to the greater, 
 that much that was disagreeable had to be en- 
 countered, that many tears would necessarily be 
 shed, that many fears would be excited, yet we 
 never dwelt long on what occasioned us dissatis- 
 faction ; but, on the contrary, only felt the happier 
 for having escaped from some cause of fear, only 
 rejoiced the more when we had been relieved 
 from some state of pain. For this reason we 
 seldom repined. We were joyous because we 
 anticipated not evil, because our hearts were pure 
 and our consciences unburdened. Let us recall to 
 mind the bitterest moments of our childhood ! 
 Were they not those in which we had for the 
 
90 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 first time done wrong, and in which we feared 
 discovery, and looked forward with trembling to 
 the punishment that awaited us ? But this very 
 fear served as a correction. We resisted the sin 
 the next time it lured us. When the punishment 
 had been submitted to, the guilt expiated, we 
 again skipped merrily through life. 
 
 Alas ! wherefore have we forgotten the wisdom 
 of our youth ? wherefore have we become more 
 full of folly in old age than when we were in 
 childhood ? Wherefore do we with unpardonable 
 self-deception, instead of seeking our happiness 
 and welfare within ourselves, expect it from cir- 
 cumstances that lie beyond us, and which after all 
 only assume, in regard to us, the character with 
 which we ourselves invest them ? Why do our 
 thoughts attach themselves with senseless obsti- 
 nacy to all that is disagreeable, rather than to 
 that which is innocently pleasurable ? Why are 
 our hearts no longer so contented as at that time, 
 when we extracted pleasures from trifles ? Why 
 is our position not sufficiently exalted, our income 
 not sufficiently large, our apparel, our furniture 
 not costly enough, although all are far better than 
 the humble cottage that once satisfied us ? Why 
 is it that we are forever troubled by a secret and 
 never-ceasing anxiety, a restless consciousness of 
 wrong ? Why is it that we never enjoy a 
 pleasure without being aware of some admixture 
 of bitterness in it ? 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 91 
 
 Because we have deserted the wisdom that 
 belongs to the age of childhood? Neither the 
 world, nor the people that surround us, have 
 changed since then ; the change is hi ourselves. 
 We have been untrue to ourselves, and have 
 attached ourselves to outward things as though 
 they could give us back the lost happiness ; and 
 we pursue them with blind ardor, yet never feel 
 the bliss of former days. It is not an angel, but 
 our own vanity, ambition, covetousness, and luxu- 
 riousness, our own pride, cunning, envy, and 
 hatred, that have driven us forth from the para- 
 dise of youth. " Except ye become as little 
 children," said Jesus Christ, the wisest of the 
 wise, " ye cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 If, therefore, thou believest the period of thy 
 early youth to have been the happiest of thy life, 
 forget not why it was so. It depends upon thy- 
 self whether the heaven of thy childhood shall 
 spread over thy later days also. Become again 
 what thou wert then ; simple, pious, forgiving, 
 loving, content with little, and the foretaste of 
 heaven which thou then enjoyed, thou wilt again 
 experience. Thou wilt then understand Jesus, 
 the wisest of the wise, whose words thou hast, 
 perhaps, often perused, but without entirely com- 
 prehending then' deep wisdom. 
 
 There are, however, many persons whose hap- 
 piness in childhood has been disturbed by sickness, 
 by the cruelty of a step-father or a step-mother, 
 
92 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 or by other misfortunes, and who cannot, there- 
 fore, reckon those years among their happiest. 
 But if thou belongest to these, which was the 
 most delightful period of the other portion of thy 
 life ? Perhaps that in which thy heart first 
 opened to love, when the privileged day had 
 come, and as youth, or as maiden, thou madest 
 thy first independent step in the world. Thou 
 still rememberest those hours of sweet reverie, 
 thy hopes, thy longings. Heaven and earth 
 seemed to grow brighter under the influence of 
 the inexpressible feelings which then moved thy 
 heart. Thy every thought was devoted to the 
 beloved object. Everything connected with it 
 assumed higher value in thine eyes. A look was 
 enough to make thee happy ; the simplest gift 
 was prized by thee above a crown ; the first 
 flower received from the hand of thy beloved 
 thou wouldst not have exchanged for the costli- 
 est jewel. Thou didst enter a second time the 
 heaven of thy childhood, but with new feelings, 
 with a new spirit. What a divine halo seemed 
 spread around everything, and how full of noble 
 virtues the beloved object ! How often in thy 
 humility thou didst deem thyself unworthy of the 
 love granted thee ! How earnestly thou strovest 
 to improve thyself, and to please by higher quali- 
 ties ! How much bliss was there not often in thy 
 sorrow, and how much comfort even in thy pains ! 
 What elevated resolves passed at that period 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 93 
 
 through thy soul ! How thou didst blush at every 
 vice, at every impure thought and action ! 
 
 " I, also, was once in paradise ! " cry many, in 
 whom. the memory of those by-gone days is re- 
 vived. " I was full of happiness ! And yet it 
 was no more than a delirium of the imagination, 
 a foolish self-delusion. Too soon, alas ! I awoke 
 from my dream, and, when more calm, I perceived 
 that the many perfections I had beheld in the be- 
 loved object, either did not exist at all, or only 
 in verv small measure." 
 
 Yes, such was thy experience ; but, neverthe- 
 less, those days count among the happiest of thy 
 earthly existence. Where, then, was the source 
 of the bliss that filled thy heart ? It was not in 
 the outer world, — for thou hast just confessed that 
 thou hadst deceived thyself; nay, the heavenly 
 being that thou lovedst was within thee, and thou 
 didst paint its image on the outer world. Thou 
 didst love the perfect, noble duty, the grace of 
 goodness, the sublimity of truth, — - not perfidy, 
 not vainglory, not riches, not rank. Thou lov- 
 edst, and thy love lent beauty even to the defects 
 of its object. 
 
 The awakening of first love is but a revival of 
 the innocence of youth, and of the reverence for 
 the divine element in the nature of man ! And 
 that divine element which thou reverest was in 
 thyself, and thou now callest it delusion, because 
 thou failedst to find out of thyself that ideal of 
 
94 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 every perfection that thou believedst to have dis- 
 covered within thyself. 
 
 Why hast thou never since then enjoyed an 
 equal measure of happiness? Why hast thou 
 cast away with the delusion, the bliss-inspiring 
 love of the Divine and the Perfect ? Why hast 
 thou not sought the ideal within thyself, since 
 thou couldst not find it elsewhere ? Why dost 
 thou not exert thy powers to gain for thyself that 
 rare perfection, that grace of goodness, that sub- 
 limity of truth, the conception of which caused 
 thee so much delight ? Why dost thou cease to 
 adorn thyself, as before, with nobler qualities in 
 order to please thy beloved ? Why dost thou not 
 now, as then, shun everything impure, every 
 vicious passion, every vice ? If thou didst, thou 
 wouldst still be full of bliss, for the world would 
 honor thee, and the approval of God would raise 
 thee above all the pains of earth. Ah, degener- 
 ate man ! hadst thou remained true to thy youth- 
 ful ideal of perfection, thou wouldst even to this 
 day enjoy a foretaste of heaven ! 
 
 But thou hast been untrue to thyself, to the 
 nobler nature within thee. Thou didst not find 
 in others all the perfections which thou wor- 
 shipped ; and in consequence thou forgottest thy- 
 self, thou becamest base and bad as others, per- 
 haps even worse than they. To this dost thou 
 owe that thy heaven has fled from thee. 
 
 O Lord, my God, Creator of the heavenly bliss 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 95 
 
 enjoyed on earth, I also was once fall of bliss, and 
 I enjoyed the foretaste of higher things. Ah ! in 
 like manner as thou gavest it to the first human 
 being, made in thine image, thou bestowest to 
 this day with inexhaustible bounty a paradise on 
 each earth-born soul. How long he shall retain 
 it depends upon himself. It is his as long as he 
 remains virtuous, as long as he does thy will, as 
 long as he continues to be pure in heart, as long 
 as he does not desecrate the Divine element 
 within himself. But the impure desire for out- 
 ward happiness drives him out of his Eden, and 
 he sees thee no longer. His eyes are fixed 
 greedily on the goods of this lower world, as are 
 those of" the unreasoning brute, instead of being 
 uplifted to the heavenly gift, as beseems those 
 who are made in thine image. 
 
 A second time the way to the lost paradise has 
 been opened to us, by thee, O blessed One who 
 took pity on the world, Saviour, Divine Teacher, 
 by thee and by thy word ! Why do we close our 
 ears against thy voice ? The greatest desire of 
 all men is to be perfectly happy ; in the days of 
 childhood, and of sweet adolescence, the magic 
 power of virtue affords us a foretaste of the high- 
 est bliss ; — why do we not, O Jesus, truly under- 
 stand the wisdom in thy words : " Blessed are 
 the pure in heart, for they shall see God " ? 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 If I trust in God alone, 
 
 If I feel he is mine own, 
 
 If my heart until I die 
 
 Ne'er forget his constancy, 
 
 Naught of sorrow can I know, 
 
 Feel naught but love, devotion, joy o'erflow. 
 
 If in him my soul is blest, 
 Willingly I leave the rest ; 
 Tread in faith my pilgrim road, 
 Trusting only in my God. 
 Earthly troubles, faint and dim, 
 Fade into nothing while I rest on him. 
 
 Where in God's own sight I stand, 
 
 There only is my fatherland ; 
 
 Every gift he sends me thence 
 
 Is proof of my inheritance. 
 
 Kindred and friends long mourned in vain, 
 
 With youth renewed, there shall I meet again. 
 
 (Rom. v. 3.) 
 
 EA, I know it, I believe it, and I feel 
 it ; I see it in every event of my life, 
 in the various destinies of my fellow- 
 creatures, in all the splendid works of' 
 nature, — that sublime and eternal temple of God, 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 97 
 
 — that the all-loving Father has created us chil- 
 dren of the earth for perfect happiness, that we 
 may already here below enjoy a foretaste of heav- 
 enly bliss ; but that the source of our delights, as 
 the source of our pains, is in our own bosoms, — 
 springs from our virtues or our vices. 
 
 How unutterably happy must not the man feel, 
 whose heart has not one thing to upbraid him with 
 in respect to any of his relations in life ; who does 
 not permit his mind to be unduly disturbed by 
 cares of any khid ; who does not allow either un- 
 bridled anger, or unrestrained affection, to lead 
 him into any excess ! In him dwells a sublime 
 calm, of which ordinary men can hardly form a 
 conception, — that calm whLch is the true peace 
 of God. 
 
 Have you^ ever passed a fine spring morning 
 alone amid the new-born beauties of nature ? 
 When, at such a time, you have been roving in 
 the shade of peaceful groves, through the green 
 canopy of which the rosy waves of sunlight broke ; 
 when the soft breath of morn was wafted across 
 the verdant landscape, and the numberless flower- 
 ets shivered, and the dew on the leaflets glittered 
 in the tears of joy which heaven had shed at the 
 holiness and goodness of the Creator ; and the 
 cascade leaping from the rock, and the river in its 
 bed, and the forest on the hill, sent forth solemn 
 murmurs ; while high up above, and deep down 
 below, the air resounded with the wonderful song 
 5 G 
 
98 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 of birds, and the buzzing of insects, — what 
 were your feelings? Did not a sense of inex- 
 pressible delight flash through your bosom ? You 
 drew a deep breath ; your body seemed ethereal- 
 ized ; you felt as if you must join your voice to 
 the voices of the air, as if you must mix your 
 tears with the tears of heaven ; you longed for 
 the wings of rosy morn to soar up high into the 
 empyrean, or to sink into the green depths of the 
 forests, or to lose yourself in the blue haze that 
 veiled the unknown distance. You longed to 
 pour your love through the entire world. 
 
 Did you ever he down on the top of a mountain, 
 whence you beheld a wide landscape with its 
 fields and cottages spread in silent repose before 
 your eyes ? In your bosom also perfect quiet 
 reigned ! You forgot all your domestic cares ; 
 no sorrow weighed on your spirits, no unpleasant 
 remembrance disturbed the beneficent calm, no 
 passion dared to intrude to break the holy peace 
 of your soul, and a voice within whispered, 
 " Blessed were I, could I forever remain thus ! ' : 
 What you then felt was a fleeting foretaste of 
 heaven, which sometimes even passionate, unqui- 
 et spirits are allowed to enjoy, in order that they 
 may look into themselves, and earnestly reflect 
 how they might perpetuate this tranquil and bless- 
 ed state. What you then felt was the peace of 
 God, which the virtuous and wise, which the true 
 followers of Christ, experience even in the midst 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 99 
 
 of the greatest tribulation, and which raises them 
 above it. You were happy in the moments al- 
 luded to, because you learnt then to forget your- 
 selves,, because you were free from the mundane 
 desires which regained possession of you as soon 
 as you re-entered your homes. But woe to him 
 who, in order thoroughly to enjoy life, must 
 learn to forget himself! This is a proof, either 
 that his heart is burdened with the consciousness 
 of many sins, or that it is oppressed with cares 
 and unsatisfied wants, springing from his vanity, 
 his frivolity, his covetousness, or other impure 
 tendencies ; or that when he acts, he does not act 
 wisely, and that what he possesses he does not 
 possess with wisdom ; but that he allows himself 
 to be consumed by a thousand vain and petty 
 cares, and creates for himself sorrows which he 
 will eventually discover to have been unnecessary. 
 The true disciple of Jesus never needs to for- 
 get himself in order to be cheerful in his very 
 innermost soul. On the contrary, it is when he 
 examines his inward being, and his relations to 
 the Father of all life, that he feels most happy. 
 The present day may have its storms, but the 
 future only smiles the more brightly to him. Pie 
 is with God, and God is with him. Whether 
 he be of high or humble station, rich or poor, 
 praised or blamed, to him it is all the same ; for 
 the source of his happiness is not in the out- 
 ward world, but within himself. And he is with 
 
100 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 God, and God is with hin. And " blessed are the 
 pure in heart, for they shall see God," here al- 
 ready, in their foretaste of the higher bliss of 
 heaven. 
 
 Almost every stage of human life has its heav- 
 enly moments, in which mortal man feels himself, 
 as it were, involuntarily raised above himself. 
 Not what we possess or what we earn, not what 
 we eat and drink, not our apparel, not what men 
 think of us, but a pure heart is the true source of 
 happiness. 
 
 Have you witnessed, or have you read of how 
 persecuted innocence has been rescued? how 
 some meritorious benevolent man was long mis- 
 judged, and overwhelmed with accusations by his 
 enemies, until at length the world learnt to see 
 its own injustice, and every one sought to make 
 some amends ? Do you recollect how that recog- 
 nition of long oppressed innocence made your 
 heart swell with emotion ; how a quiet joy took 
 possession of you, as though it were your own 
 innocence that had been vindicated ; how the 
 happiness of that virtue which had at length re- 
 ceived its reward, called tears of silent satisfac- 
 tion into your eyes ? On that occasion, you 
 shared in spirit, with the person whose inno- 
 cence was made manifest, a foretaste of heaven. 
 It was from your own virtuous feelings that 
 sprang the joy you experienced. It was the 
 germs of true happiness within you that were 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 101 
 
 moved ; it was the source of your eternal wel- 
 fare that began to flow. Ah ! why did you choke 
 up this spring with the rubbish of lower desires 
 and petty cares? Why did you not put forth 
 your full strength to rise in future above all low 
 tendencies, and make a resolve to remain for- 
 ever the elevated being you were during those 
 brief moments of emotion? 
 
 Childhood has its Eden. Adolescence has its 
 hours of paradise. But at a later age also we 
 behold from time to time a ray, as if from a bet- 
 ter world, flashing across our path, and lighting up 
 the commonplace things around us. These are 
 foretastes of heaven, which Providence sends to 
 poor mortals, to stimulate them to strive after 
 that which can alone render lasting such blissful 
 moments. 
 
 Hast thou known the feelings of a mother kin- 
 dled by the smile of her child standing before her 
 in the fresh bloom of its loveliness and grace ? 
 when in silent but holy love she bends over this 
 angel of her life, and seems with her kisses to 
 draw its pure soul over into her own ? Hast thou 
 known the delight of a father, when he beholds 
 for the first time the new-born babe that owes its 
 existence to him ? when the infant smiles upon 
 him for the first time ? when the joyous child 
 lisps its first word ? when he sees it growing in 
 health, industry, and virtue ? Ah ! the delights 
 of those heavenly moments he would not ex- 
 
102 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 change for all the treasures of the world? and 
 the mother too feels this most deeply, and says, 
 " Take all else from me, and I am nevertheless 
 blessed ! " Queens may be inexpressibly misera- 
 ble, and beggar-women unutterably happy ! 
 
 Such feelings are vibrations of the purest 
 chords of the heart. Alas ! why do we so often 
 leave them untouched? What is it that draws 
 us all so irresistibly towards the sweet world of 
 childhood ? What is the hidden power which, at 
 the sight of an infant, moves even the barbarian, 
 and which wms at once the stranger's heart ? It 
 is the guileless trust, the sweet innocence, the 
 winning grace of childhood, that charms us. It 
 is the spotless purity of the angelic nature ; it is 
 the vague anticipation of a brilliant future for the 
 child, and of how deservedly — should these 
 young beings preserve their purity and their 
 virtues in a later age — they will become objects 
 of the world's devotion. We honor in the child 
 the undesecrated sanctuary of the heart, which as 
 yet has no presentiment of evil. It is not the 
 outward form, it is not flesh and blood, that ex- 
 cites our love and admiration ; but the purity, the 
 something Divine that speaks to us from the 
 frank and open eye, the ingenuous countenance 
 of the child. It is our own inborn sense of vir- 
 tue, which, unconscious to ourselves, animates us 
 at such moments. In the intercourse with the 
 innocent little ones, we ourselves become more 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 103 
 
 innocent, more noble and more wise ; we are 
 ashamed to appear before them in all our imper- 
 fections ; and he who has not the courage to 
 conquer his faults at least tries to conceal them. 
 Verily, we may frequently learn more, improve 
 more in wisdom and goodness, in the society of 
 children, than in intercourse with the wisest of 
 our acquaintance. " Suffer little children to come 
 unto me," said Jesus; " for of such is the king- 
 dom of Heaven." 
 
 The experience of every age thus proves and 
 makes manifest, that the highest happiness of 
 which man is capable does not depend upon 
 whether he has much or little, but upon whether 
 he has a pure heart. In the moments of his 
 highest bliss his sense of virtue is always most 
 strongly excited. In such moments he is good ; 
 he rises above selfishness, malice, false pretences, 
 and impure desires. In such moments he will- 
 ingly shares with others what he possesses, he 
 would fain make the whole world happy ; he 
 forgives his mortal enemy, and embraces all 
 mankind in his love. 
 
 It is the power of virtue that is strong within 
 him, and that bears witness to the truth of Jesus' 
 promise : Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
 shall see God! 
 
 Be pure of heart, and all the sources of heav- 
 enly bliss within you will be opened up, and you 
 will enjoy constantly that foretaste of heaven 
 
104 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 which hitherto has only been vouchsafed to you 
 in your highest moments. For they were your 
 highest moments, simply because while they 
 lasted you had risen to be better men. Why 
 did you not remain ever what you were then? 
 Why did you become untrue to yourselves ? 
 
 You were untrue to yourselves in giving your- 
 selves up again to the outward world, and ex- 
 pecting from it pleasures which it does not afford. 
 You deliberately became unfaithful to yourselves, 
 because you cared not to be masters of yourselves ; 
 but preferred surrendering the mastery to things 
 which could in no way contribute to your peace of 
 mind. You abandon yourselves to excessive care 
 connected with your outward circumstances, for- 
 getting that it is your inward condition that is the 
 chief object of life, and that when this is not what 
 it ought to be, all outward honors, all comforts 
 and luxuries, all pomp and grandeur, will be pow- 
 erless to make you happy. Like madmen, you 
 sacrifice life for death, peace of mind for constant 
 anxiety, cheerfulness for sadness, the conscious- 
 ness of innocence for pangs of conscience, the 
 pride of independence for the shame of depend- 
 ence, the sense of security for never-ceasing fears. 
 Perhaps you have often sent up the prayer: 
 " Give me, O God, a pure heart ; and let thy 
 Holy Spirit inspire me." But no sooner was the 
 prayer uttered than you again gave way to anger 
 against your brother, than you again hypocriti- 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 105 
 
 cally deceived some unsuspecting person, than 
 you again allowed a sufferer to leave you with- 
 out being comforted, than you again began to 
 amass money by unrighteous means, and allowed 
 jealousy to fill your heart with hatred and malice. 
 And what have you hitherto obtained in return 
 for your many anxieties ? Perhaps physical in- 
 firmities, which prevent you from enjoying what 
 other advantages may be yours ; perhaps a few 
 more possessions than previously, but perhaps, 
 also, fewer joys than when you had less worldly 
 goods ; perhaps a post of honor which exposes 
 you to malicious attacks of envy, and heaps upon 
 you responsibilities and cares. Is that a foretaste 
 of heaven? Can these gains bear comparison 
 with the happiness you enjoyed in those higher 
 moments, when you possessed none of these, but 
 when you were pure in heart, and your mind was 
 free and fearless ? 
 
 He who is thoroughly happy within himself 
 covets not other joys, asks for nothing more 
 than to remain forever as he is. If outward cir- 
 cumstances make man happy, why then is he, 
 even after he has attained the desired end, ever 
 craving for something better, something differ- 
 ent? Why, then, is he always pursuing hap- 
 piness as the child pursues the glowing colors of 
 the rainbow, without ever reaching them ? 
 
 Pause, wonder, reflect upon the heavenly hours 
 thou hast enjoyed in life, and ask thyself how 
 
 5* 
 
106 A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 they came to thee. Not to rank, nor riches, nor 
 fine clothes, nor meat, nor drink, didst thou owe 
 them, but to thy pure heart. Thou wert a better 
 man in those hours, and therefore all that sur- 
 rounded thee was better. Abandon the mistaken 
 road towards happiness, and strive again to pos- 
 sess that which alone can lead thee back to thy 
 paradise. 
 
 Live with God in childlike purity. Never al- 
 low thyself to be too much absorbed in care for 
 outward circumstances. Do thy duty, keep thy 
 conscience clear; for all else trust in Him who 
 knows best what is good for us. Root out thy 
 faults and evil tendencies ; when a child thou 
 hadst them not, and therefore thou wert happier 
 then than now. Fust of all cast from thee the 
 desires that cause thee most uneasiness ; cor- 
 rect, by steadfast perseverance, those defects in 
 thy disposition and thy conduct, which are the 
 chief sources of disquietude to thee. Man has 
 great, nay, incredible power over himself, if he 
 will but exert it. Think not of gratifying thy- 
 self; but consider each day what good thou canst 
 do to others. Demand what thou hast a right v 
 way do injustice to others. And in order that 
 to ; but, on the other side, never in the smallest^ 
 thou mayest continue to improve, study earnest- 
 ly the spirit and precepts of Jesus. In these 
 thou wilt discover the highest wisdom, and from 
 them learn the way back into thy lost paradise. 
 
A FORETASTE OF HEAVEN. 107 
 
 There thou wilt find thy God again, and even in 
 the severest trials of life, an inward peace, cheer- 
 fulness, bliss, of which no mortal can ever deprive 
 thee. " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
 shall see God!" 
 
 Merciful and eternal God, Love inexhaustible, 
 Father of the universe, my Father ! if I have 
 but thee, all that life may bring is but a shadowy 
 phantasm. If I have but thee, I shall pass with- 
 out fear through light and through darkness, and 
 shall find my way, and shall not falter, though 
 want and death may threaten. If I have but 
 thee, I am sufficiently rich, though all fail me that 
 others call riches ; I am sufficiently exalted, 
 though all the world look down upon me ; I am 
 strong enough, though thousands conspire against 
 me ; I am safe, though disasters may befall me, 
 and all my earthly possessions be lost. If I have 
 but thee, death itself cannot rob me of my joy, 
 should it even tear from my bleeding heart all the 
 beloved souls to whom I am attached. Ah ! death 
 is thy angel messenger, he brings them to thee, 
 and in the bosom of thy love I shall find them 
 again. If I have but thee, I possess all things ! 
 Amen. 
 
 
THE WORLD A MIRROR OF 
 ETERNITY. 
 
 The Lord is King ! he reigns forever ; 
 The Lord is God ! he ceaseth never ; 
 
 He was, he e'er shall be, he is : 
 Who shall dare change what he commands 1 
 The universe rests in his hands, — 
 
 Tails he to hold, it perishes ; — 
 Yet still unconscious of decay, 
 The globe revolves from day to day ; 
 In the eternal seas of air 
 Floats yet this earthly ball, so seeming fair. 
 
 How long, ye nations, will ye try 
 His patience, " and his wrath defy " ? 
 
 Triflers on earth, his love forgot, 
 How long ere yet his anger burn, — 
 Omnipotent, although ye spurn 
 
 His power, and comprehend him not, — 
 A Father and a Judge alike, 
 Though merciful, he yet can strike ; 
 The earth rests only on his will ! 
 And ye, too, scorners ! — yet delays he still. 
 
 (1 Cor. xiii. 12, 13.) 
 
 OW gloriously does not the God, who 
 beams upon us from the heavenly 
 revelations of Jesus, harmonize with 
 the wonderful God who majestically 
 reveals himself to' me and to all nations, at all 
 periods of time, in the varying beauty and 
 
THE WORLD A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 109 
 
 grandeur of nature ! Mysterious and grand he 
 appears in his action on the world of spirits. 
 Mysterious and grand in the order of the myriads 
 of flaming worlds, which move in their eternally 
 prescribed orbits, without ever diverging from 
 their paths, or coming into collision. Mercifully 
 he reigns in the realm of immortal spirits, where 
 his call to happiness penetrates all beings, and his 
 justice rules ; mercifully in the sublunary world, 
 where his love is extended even to the lowliest 
 creature. 
 
 The longer I consider and weigh the revelations 
 of the Eternal Son, the longer I dwell upon the 
 spectacle of the infinite creation, the more con- 
 scious I become of the proximity of God, the 
 more vividly I feel : this is not mere mechanical 
 activity. In all the forms of this sublunary world, 
 through all the play of the hidden spiritual forces, 
 there is revealed a will full of almighty power, an 
 almighty power full of wisdom, a wisdom full of 
 holiness, full of love, — and this is God. But the 
 nature of God I cannot fathom. A God whose 
 nature I could fathom would not be God, for even 
 the nature of my own soul is a dark riddle to me. 
 Seek not to know wherein consists the essence of 
 the Highest Being ; for the essence of even the 
 meanest creature that he has made is an insoluble 
 mystery to thee. Audacious mortal, the longer 
 thou gazest at the dazzling brightness of the sun, 
 the more it blinds thee ! 
 
110 THE WORLD 
 
 Our knowledge here on earth is but partial, 
 said St. Paul, the wise disciple of Jesus ; " now 
 we see through a glass, darkly, but then we see 
 face to face ; now I know in part, but then I 
 shall know even as I also am known. And now 
 abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the 
 greatest of these is charity." (1 Cor. xiii. 12, 
 13.) 
 
 Yea, this world, which is for a short time as- 
 signed to us as a habitation, is to me as a darkened 
 mirror of eternity. I see here in part that which 
 I shall one day behold with delight in its wonder- 
 ful totality. What I hope here, will there be 
 fulfilled ; and that which is here but an obscure 
 foreshadowing, will there surround me as a bright 
 reality. And the God of Life, whose glory I be- 
 hold here only in reflection, will be revealed to 
 me in full effulgence, when my immortal spirit 
 shall be immersed in him and in his bliss. 
 
 The world is to me a darkened mirror of 
 eternity. That which I experience in detached 
 fragments in this life, betrays to me what I shall 
 one day experience in a more perfect life. For 
 in the divine creation all is unbroken unity ; all 
 tilings are connected ; there is no interruption of 
 continuity. In the chain of the infinite universe 
 there are no missing links. 
 
 The here and the hereafter, life and eternity, 
 are but one, form but one whole, without inter- 
 ruption. Were my eyesight sufficiently strong, I 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. m 
 
 should discover in the minute seed, which a single 
 blade of grass suffices to conceal, the gigantic tree 
 which at the end of a hundred years will over- 
 shadow a whole valley. In everything there is 
 progress, development. 
 
 God has diffused throughout the wide universe 
 a vital force, a secret power of animation. This 
 all-animating power manifests itself on every side, 
 yet how rarely do we notice it ! All things are 
 imbued with it, and it is constantly renovating 
 the form of whatever is undergoing dissolution. 
 It acts with wonderful energy in the innermost 
 germ of every seed, draws nourishment from all 
 the elements, attracts towards itself the crumbling; 
 dust of ages, spreads fresh life through it, and 
 produces a new plant, whose beauty charms us 
 in spring, whose radiant colors dazzle our eyes, 
 whose fragrance delights us, or whose fruits afford 
 us delicious nourishment. 
 
 This vital force resides in every part of animal 
 nature, so that the part is hardly separated from 
 the whole, before, in the midst of decay, new life 
 begins to develop itself. 
 
 Thus our earthly body likewise is imbued with 
 this vital force. In every minute part of our 
 bodies, also, the wonderful power diffused through- 
 out the universe is at work. It is placed at the 
 service of our spirit as long as the latter dwells 
 in the body. For the benefit of the spirit it ani- 
 mates the delicate nerve tissues, and causes the 
 
112 THE WORLD 
 
 blood to flow through the labyrinthine passages 
 of the arteries and veins ; for the benefit of the 
 spirit it draws nourishment from the elements, 
 brightens the eye, sucks in the fragrant breath of 
 the flowers, and carries the tones of the outer 
 world into the innermost recesses of the soul. 
 
 When, however, that which is immortal within 
 us outstrips the earthly coil ; when the thinking, 
 freely willing, spontaneous power within us, winch 
 is subject to special laws of its own, and which we 
 call our spirit, our real self, takes leave of the 
 body, — then the vital power ceases to perform 
 its functions, and the body perishes. 
 
 But, in the same manner as these forces and 
 life-impulses always find new materials which 
 they work into new forms, so also the noblest of 
 all forces, the immortal spirit, called to freedom, 
 to bliss, and to eternal endurance, doth clothe 
 itself hi a new vesture. It neither sleeps nor 
 dies when its first body passes away ; and it will 
 not fail to find a new veil in which to shroud it- 
 self, when called, perhaps, to act more gloriously, 
 more perfectly, in the sphere of eternal existence. 
 It must be so, — for naught perishes. What is 
 death ? Nothing more than transformation. The 
 dead flower is transformed into dust, which in 
 time becomes parts of other flowers. And in like 
 manner as the blind life-force, acting according 
 to the eternal laws of God, continues without 
 ceasing, so also the free spirit of man, when re- 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 113 
 
 lieved from its earthly coil. Thus this world is 
 to us as a darkened mirror of eternity. 
 
 What eye can measure the boundless universe 
 of God ? The strongest telescope of the astron- 
 omer fails to discover its limits. Beyond all the 
 stars or worlds which we discern through Ins hi- 
 strument, we behold the faint gleams of the pale 
 light of still more distant and unknown realms 
 of space, which may be the reflection of still 
 remoter stars, located in parts of the infinite 
 universe which will ever remain hidden to man. 
 
 The wonderful rapidity with which light travels 
 has been calculated; the relative distances have 
 been measured between the sun and the planets 
 that revolve round him, and which borrow then' 
 light from him ; but to express the relative dis- 
 tances of the greater number of stellar systems, 
 words and numbers fail us. Stars which we see 
 glimmering in the heavens because their light is 
 still travelling towards us through immeasurable 
 space, may have been long extinguished. New 
 suns may have come into existence at inexpressi- 
 ble distances from us, which we do not see, be- 
 cause the light from them has not reached our 
 eye. So immense is the universe! — Nay, not 
 the universe, but merely the small part of it 
 which we can discover from our earth ; and this 
 small part, according to the suppositions of the 
 most distinguished astronomers, is far from the 
 glorious centre round which the worlds revolve. 
 
114 THE WORLD 
 
 The earth, the sun, the myriad stars, float in the 
 great ocean of space, and revolve round a greater 
 sun which, however, remains hidden from our 
 mortal ken. Each hour the globe we inhabit 
 moves fifteen thousand miles, and each day three 
 hundred and fifty-five thousand miles, onward 
 in space. Hourly and daily the sun, with the 
 eleven planets (worlds like our own), and eigh- 
 teen moons (all of which cannot be seen with 
 the naked eye) belonging to his system, in like 
 manner move along with inconceivable rapidity, 
 without our being able to perceive it. So im- 
 measurable are the distances that separate these 
 worlds belonging to one and the same system, 
 that, even after a century's observation, we are 
 hardly able to discern their motion round another 
 — to us unknown — sun. 
 
 And these numberless spheres, almost all of 
 which are of infinitely greater magnitude than the 
 globe we inhabit, are intimately connected with 
 each other, in spite of the enormous distances 
 that separate them. Similar to each other in 
 form, they mutually dispense to each other the 
 light which they irradiate, and which is perhaps 
 the same as that which flashes from the thunder- 
 cloud, and which beams so brightly in the Aurora 
 Borealis. 
 
 Ah ! what is the finest masterpiece from the 
 hand of the first human artist, compared with 
 the great, the wonderful, the boundless universe 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. H5 
 
 whereon God is enthroned ! And all these worlds 
 form a unity, — are the intimately connected, 
 closely related parts of a continuous whole ! 
 From immeasurable distances the one acts upon 
 the other. The moon moves our seas to ebb and 
 flood, and influences the weather on our globe ; 
 and in like manner our earth is influenced by the 
 sun, which holds in dependence upon itself all 
 the spheres floating in space at distances of hun- 
 dreds of millions of miles from it. In virtue of 
 the as yet undiscovered, and probably ever to us 
 undiscoverable, matter that connects the countless 
 worlds, they are constantly influencing each other. 
 Thus all form but one whole ; all are connected 
 by the Almighty Hand of Divine Majesty ! And 
 thus this world, little as I know of it, is to me as 
 a darkened mirror of eternity. In this boundless 
 ocean of the universe, wherein nothing is ever 
 annihilated, I also dwell. Like all that belongs 
 to it, I can never cease to exist in it. I also am 
 an inhabitant of the Divine edifice, and the All- 
 Holy One, on whose breath hang myriads of suns, 
 I may call Father ! My Father ! Here, as there, 
 I am within the bounds of eternity ! There is no 
 difference, for all is one ! The hours, the years 
 which pass over my head on this earth, are parts 
 of eternity, drops in its ocean, in no way separate 
 from it ! 
 
 When I learn from the observations of dis- 
 tinguished astronomers and natural philosophers, 
 
116 THE WORLD 
 
 that the size of the sun is more than one million 
 and a half greater than that of our globe ; when 
 I learn that the sun probably consists of earths and 
 rocks similar to those of our sphere, that moun- 
 tains and valleys really appear upon its surface, 
 that it is not, as it seems, a glowing ball of fire, 
 but that it is surrounded by an indescribable lumi- 
 nous vapor in the same manner as our earth is 
 surrounded by clouds ; or when I learn, that even 
 tolerably strong telescopes show upon the sur- 
 face of the moon entire ranges of strangely formed 
 mountains and valleys, interspersed with dark 
 spots, supposed to be oceans and plains ; or when 
 I hear that in the sphere which we call our morn- 
 ing and evening star, mountains have been discov- 
 ered, which far surpass in altitude those of our 
 earth, — ■ I am seized with reverential awe, and my 
 mind is lost in amazement, at the incomprehensible 
 vastness, at the wonderful construction of the uni- 
 verse, in which I perceive so many globes like our 
 own, and probably — nay, certainly — inhabited 
 like our own by living beings. Beings, the 
 noblest of whom acknowledge and praise God, — 
 ah ! perhaps more truly and worthily than I do. 
 
 Then I see the world as in a darkened mirror ; 
 then arise in me feelings never before experi- 
 enced ; then I become conscious that I belong, 
 not alone to this earth, to this fleeting, insimiin- 
 cant life, but also to other kindred worlds ; that I 
 have brothers, more perfect and more happy, 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 117 
 
 dwelling in immeasurably distant regions of the 
 grand universe. Language fails me. My thoughts 
 are confounded. I seem to have a presentiment 
 of the infinite. I stand in the midst of eternity. 
 I am immersed in its awful depths ! 
 
 What manifold forms of life and existence may 
 there not be in those great worlds, that roll so 
 majestically through space ! What an ascending 
 scale, of ever greater perfection and happiness, 
 of which I, poor mortal, cannot form even a dis- 
 tant conception ! Even here on earth I behold 
 and admire the manifold differences which prevail 
 in great and small things. Even here I behold 
 strange inequalities. What variety of mental 
 capacity and of power of enjoyment, even among 
 animals ! What an inferior creature is not the 
 mussel clinging to the rock on the sea-shore, 
 when compared to the May-fly rising on golden 
 wings through the balmy air of spring ! What 
 an exalted position does not the sagacious ele- 
 phant, the intelligent courser, the dog, the faith- 
 ful friend of man, maintain at the side of other 
 individual species of the animal race ! And what 
 is the instinct of animals compared to the reason 
 of man ! And can we suppose that, after calling 
 man into being, the creative power of the Creator 
 was exhausted ? Can we suppose that man is the 
 most perfect of created beings in the universe, 
 because he is the highest and most glorious being 
 on this globe ? What is this earth of ours ? 
 
118 THE WORLD 
 
 Why, one of the smallest stars in the firmament. 
 And even our sun, though one and a half million 
 times larger than the earth, is but one of the 
 smallest when compared to the suns which, placed 
 at distances from us that no mortal can calculate, 
 yet appear as stars of the first magnitude. If I 
 may be allowed to draw conclusions from the 
 comparative magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, 
 O, then, man must be one of the meanest and 
 most insignificant of divinely created beings ; 
 then there exist in the infinite creation, in the 
 abodes of eternity, beings of far higher nature 
 than ours, before whom we should appear but as 
 the dust at our feet ; and whose wisdom, holiness, 
 perfection, happiness, exceeds ours as much as 
 our wisdom, holiness, happiness, exceeds that of 
 the lowly worm which we unconsciously trample 
 under foot. 
 
 Yea, there are creatures, of higher nature than 
 myself, far more holy and perfect, who, like my- 
 self, pray to the highest of all beings. Revela- 
 tion mentions them as angels, as the exalted spirits 
 of heaven, as cherubim and seraphim. There 
 are worlds aboye ours. There are inhabitants 
 of the boundless universe, in comparison with 
 whom I am a mere nothing. And had no revela- 
 tion taught me so, I should have learnt it from 
 what I observe even on this earth. Yea, verily, 
 the world is to me a mirror of eternity ; and 
 though but a darkened mirror, the images I be- 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. H9 
 
 hold in it are mighty enough to stir up my inner- 
 most soul. 
 
 Only a darkened mirror, and yet how much do 
 I not behold in it ! My knowledge here below is 
 but partial, yet how elevating even in its limited 
 form ! When my mind loses itself in the infini- 
 tude of divine creations, I feel my insignificance, 
 my nothingness, and yet, at the same time, a 
 sweet pride and consolation come to me in the 
 thought, that I also am worthy of God, the Crea- 
 tor of the universe ; that something divine lives 
 and thinks within me ! 
 
 Alas for me, when from this sublime height, 
 where I seem to have a presentiment of God, I 
 look down upon my past life ! Alas for me, what 
 have I been ? What have I done ? The sor- 
 rows I have known, have they been nearer those 
 of the angel, or of the brute ? Have I striven 
 more to secure the sublime and intense gratifica- 
 tion which the seraph enjoys in the consciousness 
 of his perfection and holiness, or the sensual 
 gratifications of my earthly body, which, are com- 
 mon to the lower animals as well ? 
 
 Blushing, I cast down my eyes before the in- 
 corruptible judge within me ; before the omnis- 
 cience of the All-holy One. Fain would I hide 
 myself, — hide the whole course of my life, that 
 no eye might behold it ! For I have looked mto 
 the darkened mirror of eternity, but failed to be 
 impressed by what I saw. I had an intuitive 
 
120 THE WORLD 
 
 perception that a higher destiny awaited me, and 
 that I must consecrate myself to it during my 
 earthly life ; but I did not raise myself up into 
 the sphere of the angels, but sank down into the 
 slough of animal life. I labored for my body 
 only ; took heed for naught but meat and drink ; 
 stretched out my hands with childlike folly after 
 pomp and earthly glory, evanescent as dust ; I neg- 
 lected myself, lived not for my soul, my real self, 
 but for my perishable body, which is mine only 
 for a time. I looked into the darkened imao-e of 
 eternity; but, like the animal whose drooping 
 head allows it only to gaze on the earth, I never 
 lifted my face towards heaven. The applause of 
 men, so contemptible and so little enduring, I 
 prized more highly than the consciousness that I 
 was making myself worthy of God and my eternal 
 destiny. Ah ! how unutterably foolish I have 
 been! how despicable I seem to myself! "Be 
 perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect ! ' ; 
 So saidst thou, my holy, my Divine Teacher, 
 Jesus Christ, who filled the spiritual world with 
 thy light, which was not of this world. Woe is 
 me ! I heard thy voice, O faithful Shepherd of 
 men, but I did not follow its call ! 
 
 Alas ! like my knowledge, so was also my will- 
 ing but partial and imperfect. But is it ever to 
 remain so ? Shall I become still more imperfect 
 than I am? Shall I be precipitated from the 
 place which I now hold in the scale of God- 
 
A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 121 
 
 created beings ? Eternity ! Eternity ! In thee 
 dwells Eternal Love ; but woe to me, sinner that 
 I am, in thee dwells also the Eternal Judge 
 whose justice deals with us according to our 
 deserts ! 
 
 Console me, ye lovely daughters of Heaven, 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity ! Accompany me 
 along the paths which I may still have to trav- 
 erse. Strengthen me, O Faith in God ! and 
 raise my mind above earthly cares and earthly 
 wishes up to its true destination. Save me wdien 
 my soul vacillates between time and eternity, 
 when it is tempted to prefer the animal to the 
 Divine. Save me when passion is nigh mastering 
 me, and when sensuality threatens to carry the 
 victory over principle and duty. And thou, O 
 Hope, divine gift of God, promise held out by 
 the lips of Jesus himself, abandon me not in the 
 most anxious hours of life ! And when I sacri- 
 fice everything for the sake of righteousness and 
 the purity of my soul, should I be poor and for- 
 saken because of my virtue, and become a laugh- 
 ing-stock to men, — O then, Hope in Eternity 
 and Mercy, do not thou forsake me ! 
 
 And thou, loveliest of all virtues, parent and 
 source of every spiritual perfection, Charity, love 
 to God, and love to man, penetrate me so that 
 in thee I may live and breathe and have my 
 being. Only he who dwells in love, dwells in 
 God ; only to him who dwells in love, who is 
 
 6 
 
122 THE WORLD A MIRROR OF ETERNITY. 
 
 thoroughly imbued with love, is eternity opened 
 here on earth ; only he enjoys here below al- 
 ready a foretaste of its bliss. For he who dwell- 
 eth and ruleth in eternity is the all-animating 
 Love, is God ! 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 Alone by reason's glimmering light 
 
 We dimly search out Nature's plan, 
 But all to Thee was clear and bright 
 
 Long ere creation's dawn began ; 
 Together linked, some scattered beams 
 
 Of truth our weary toil may claim, 
 But to thine eyes, these fitful gleams 
 
 Glow like a golden sea of flame. 
 
 The countless hosts that throng each sphere, 
 
 Each blooming flower, each hidden gem, 
 Revealed before thy glance appear, 
 
 And by their names thou callest them. 
 Thou piercest to the germ within, 
 
 Doubts, dangers, ne'er can 'scape thine eye ; 
 Thou knowest all that is, has been, 
 
 And can be in futurity. 
 
 Such glorious knowledge is in thee, 
 
 I tremble at the wondrous height : 
 The wondrous depth o'erpowers me, 
 
 As I stand praying in thy sight. 
 I faint, I falter, God ! Thy ways 
 
 Are measureless ; unless thou teach, 
 Not even the archangels' gaze 
 
 Can sound their depth, their height can reach. 
 
 (Matt, xviii. 10.) 
 
 T a very early period already the hu- 
 man race showed a tendency to be- 
 lieve in the existence of higher beings, 
 who, though created by God, were in- 
 finitely superior to man. This belief was very 
 
124 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 natural. Because, the better acquainted men 
 became with the various parts of creation, the 
 more convinced they were that in nature there 
 are no gaps ; that everything embraced in it 
 forms one great continuous chain, in which the 
 lowest link, i. e. the most imperfect being, is 
 connected with the highest, though only through 
 innumerable other links, gradually rising in the 
 scale of perfection ; that between the broken 
 fragment of lifeless rock and man lies the long 
 progressive series of plants and animals ; that 
 the lifeless stone first touches in its crystalline 
 form the lowest family of plants ; that certain 
 plants, on the other hand, approach very near to 
 animal life, such as it is seen in the water poly- 
 pus and the coral ; that in the endless scale of 
 living beings the less perfect is always followed 
 by the more perfect, until at length the most 
 perfect animal touches the least perfect, most 
 animal-like race of human beings, who are only 
 raised above the sagacity of the dog, the ele- 
 phant, or the ape, in as far as a faint spark of 
 reason glimmers within them. 
 
 On observing this remarkable and regular gra- 
 dation of beings, the question would naturally 
 arise in man, Though I may be able to discern all 
 that lies below me, does it follow that there is 
 naught above me but what I know ? The most 
 sagacious among animals are indeed aware of my 
 existence, but can they form to themselves even 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 125 
 
 a distant conception of what it is to be a man, or 
 of what man can acquire and perform through 
 means of his mental capacities ? And can I ven- 
 ture to presume that the most perfect man touches 
 immediately in the scale of beings the Deity who 
 rules the universe ? 
 
 Impossible ! the deeper I look into God's crea- 
 tion, the more his glory and his boundless power 
 are made manifest to me, the more vividly do I 
 feel how infinitely inferior I am to the All-High, 
 how far I am removed from him. And can I 
 suppose that the immense interval that separates 
 man from the Power that rules the universe is 
 left unoccupied ; that the continuity of nature 
 which I observe wherever my mind can pene- 
 trate, has here been suddenly interrupted; that 
 between God and man there is naught but an 
 infinite desert ? This is inconceivable ! 
 
 In like manner as in the planetary system 
 smaller moons revolve round the earth ; in like 
 manner as our planet and other planets revolve 
 round the sun with other moons ; in like manner 
 as the sun, accompanied by all the planets and 
 their moons, and probably together with many 
 other suns which we call fixed stars, moves in 
 space around an infinitely greater sun which our 
 eyes have never beheld ; in like manner as this 
 again, with all the surrounding suns, planets, and 
 moons, sweeps around a still more glorious centre, 
 in periods of time for which human language has 
 
126 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 no numbers ; — so, also, there must be placed 
 between human nature and the Deity myriads 
 of higher beings, supermundane natures, nearer 
 akin to God than poor mortal man ! In ordinary 
 language we comprise all these beings under the 
 name of angels, but we know not wherein consists 
 their higher nature, nor do we know the number 
 of grades which there may be between the least 
 perfect angel who is nearest akin to the most 
 perfect man, and the most glorious of created 
 beings, who enjoy unutterable bliss, feeling them- 
 selves in close proximity to God. 
 
 The Holy Scriptures also speak of the existence 
 of these lovely natures, without affording any 
 idea of what they are and wherein their advan- 
 tages consist. The Scriptures only mention their 
 superior happiness, and say that they are the 
 servants of the Most High, the doers of his bid- 
 ding. Jesus Christ, also, who withdrew the cur- 
 tain from as much of the sanctuary of the super- 
 terrestrial world as he thought the eyes of mor- 
 tals could bear to behold, — Jesus, also, speaks 
 of the higher spirits which intervene between 
 us and the Most High. But he only speaks of 
 them as beings standing nearer the throne of 
 the Eternal Father than we, and taking a loving 
 interest in the welfare of human spirits, in like 
 manner as kind-hearted mortals often constitute 
 themselves friends and protectors of beings infe- 
 rior to themselves. (Matt, xviii. 10.) 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 127 
 
 Now, although it would be vain labor to en- 
 deavor to form a conception of the nature and 
 happiness of the higher spirits, it is nevertheless 
 an interesting occupation for our thoughts to dwell 
 upon what we know of the spiritual in this earthly 
 existence, and to draw thence conclusions as to 
 the spirits that rank above us. For in the world 
 that we know, we find as great variety in the 
 spiritual forces or invisible powers as in the 
 material things. Among such spiritual forces or 
 essences, the existence of which we know only 
 through their effects, we must indeed count not 
 only human spirits and animal souls, but also 
 those powers which we usually denominate blind 
 forces of nature, and which dwell in all things, 
 not only in the animal and in the plant, but in 
 stone, in water, in fire, and in all elementary 
 substances. 
 
 Is not heat a special power which expands and 
 changes everything that is brought within its 
 influence ? Is not light a special power, which, 
 while stimulating our eyes, speeds on in all direc- 
 tions in straight lines and with inconceivable 
 rapidity ? Who has not beheld with wonder the 
 mysterious power of the loadstone, which it com- 
 municates to iron ? It works according to eternal 
 laws peculiar to itself. The magnet attracts to- 
 ward itself light iron materials from a certain dis- 
 tance ; and the iron needle rubbed with loadstone 
 ever points one of its extremities, and always 
 
128 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 the same one, towards the northern quarter of 
 the globe. In consequence hereof it becomes the 
 trusty and unerring guide of the seafarer during 
 the storms that drive him out of his track on the 
 ocean, and also of the miner, who labors deep 
 down in the bowels of the earth, far from the 
 light of day. 
 
 Is not that strange something which manifests 
 itself as lightning in the clouds of air, and as a 
 spark emitted by the coat of various animals when 
 stroked, — which betrays its existence in certain 
 fishes of the sea by a violent shock, and which 
 men of science call forth by friction from various 
 substances in the form of a flash of lightninff, or 
 of a tremendous shock, — is not this a peculiar 
 power ? 
 
 All these and many other forces of nature are, 
 in a manner, spiritual, — that is to say, they are 
 present in the various bodies, though impercep- 
 tible to our senses, until called forth by certain 
 circumstances. Then they reveal themselves by 
 some change produced in the bodies, and our 
 senses take cognizance of their presence. In like 
 manner the spiritual power of man remains hid- 
 den, until revealed in word and action. 
 
 These blind forces of nature are diffused through 
 all matter. They work for, against, and with 
 each other. They fill the air and every field of 
 space. Through them only we obtain cognizance 
 of the existence of the stars. They are in con- 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 129 
 
 sequence spread through the boundless ocean of 
 all creation ; lifeless, that is, imperceptible in 
 themselves, and only active and vivid when 
 brought into connection with certain bodies, just 
 as the spirit of man only manifests its existence 
 when united with a body. 
 
 We call the effects produced by these hidden 
 forces natural phenomena. We, as well as every 
 animal, every stone, every plant, are imbued with 
 this spiritual something, without knowing what it 
 is in itself, and how it works. It remains ever 
 hidden beneath the play of its phenomena, in like 
 manner as the spirit of man is unknown to itself, 
 but only learns from its effects on the body, or its 
 action through the body, that it is present. 
 
 Finally, all that we know about these blind 
 forces of nature is, that their influence contributes 
 greatly to maintain the life of plants, and also the 
 mere vegetable life of animals and men. It is 
 they who give heat and color to our blood, and 
 who suffuse the flowers with varied tints. It is 
 they who in the dark caverns of the earth form 
 various metals and minerals, and transform the 
 latter into regular crystals. 
 
 Nevertheless all these forces together are in- 
 capable of producing a single blade of grass, with 
 its fibres, its cells, its air-valves and spiral tubes. 
 The blade of grass only comes into existence 
 through means of a seed of its species. In this 
 seed alone lies the possibility of the future plant 
 
 6* I 
 
130 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 with all its forms, as, for instance, in the acorn is 
 the germ of the future majestic oak. 
 
 But what is it that develops itself so beautifully 
 and wonderfully in and with this germ ? What 
 is it that forms out of the volatile substances bor- 
 rowed from earth, water, and air, marvellously 
 regular tubes, valves, veins, fruits, down, leaves, 
 roots, all organized with perfect wisdom ? What 
 is it that produces in human and animal bodies, 
 bone, blood, sinews, and nerves ; that regulates 
 the internal parts, makes the blood flow according 
 to laws of its own, and establishes the relative 
 position of each part to the whole ? The human 
 spirit dwells in the body without knowing what 
 is passing within it, or how it is that everything 
 moves within it according to rational laws. 
 
 Here there is evidently something more than 
 the mere blind natural forces, such as magnetism, 
 light, and heat. Here is a higher power, which, 
 though still not self-conscious, and still following 
 blindly the laws of the Creator, yet already builds 
 up instruments for definite purposes. I call this 
 more exalted and powerful something, the vital 
 force. 
 
 This vital force — : which develops the bodies 
 of men, animals, and plants, which builds and sus- 
 tains according to eternal laws laid down by the 
 Creator — is totally different from the simple 
 blind powers of nature. A flint-rock will never 
 become a rose-bush, the seed-pods of a fruit-tree 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 131 
 
 will never grow into gold. Each remains after 
 its kind what it is, and the vital power develops 
 itself according to the laws of creation. In like 
 manner as it draws towards itself, and transmutes 
 earthly materials for the constr action of the bodies 
 of plants, animals, and men ; so also it uses, as it 
 were, for the completion of its purpose, all the 
 ethereal or spiritual substances, i. e. the simple 
 powers of nature alluded to above. It uses these, 
 however, only as means, and thus proves that it is 
 a higher power than they. 
 
 The connection between the vital power and 
 the natural forces is, however, so intimate, that 
 the former, failing the aid of the latter, remains 
 inactive. If heat and light be not admitted, the 
 vital force in the vegetable germ cannot develop 
 its activity, cannot make use of its instruments 
 above and beneath the earth, to gather up new 
 materials. 
 
 Thus we recognize in the realm of creation 
 known to us two kinds of spiritual essences : the 
 blind powers of nature, and the true life-power in 
 plants and animals. But the power which calls 
 .forth life, or rather, which in itself constitutes 
 that which in plants and animals we call life, is 
 as little self-conscious as is the force called heat. 
 What does the growing hair on our heads, what 
 does our body with all its limbs, know about it- 
 self, except through the activity of the indwelling 
 soul ? 
 
132 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 The plant lias life, so has the animal ; bnt the 
 latter has also a soul, that is to say, possesses an 
 innate power of perception, and of judgment to 
 a certain extent, and likewise a power of feeling 
 hatred and affection, anger and joy, desire and 
 repugnance. Animals have also the power of 
 willing ; but plants, which do indeed, in rare in- 
 stances, manifest a faint indication of sensation, do 
 not show the most distant appearance of a will. 
 
 Therefore the animal kingdom ranks as far 
 above the world of plants, as the self-determining 
 soul ranks above the mechanical vital power, or 
 as life ranks above the blind powers of nature. 
 
 Yet the animal soul is intimately connected 
 with the vital principle in plants, and the activity 
 of both often manifests itself in a similar manner. 
 Just as the plant, following laws of which it is not 
 conscious, draws from earth, air, and water the 
 nourishment it requires, so does the animal soul 
 act in obedience to mysterious instincts, which it 
 has not the power to resist. These instincts, how- 
 ever, originate in the peculiar construction of the 
 animal body. Thus horned cattle pass by those 
 herbs which are not congenial to the nature of 
 their bodies, and seek for those which will afford 
 them healthy nourishment. Thus hunger makes 
 the wolf ferocious, while the instinct that incites 
 them to pair makes even the fiercest beasts gre- 
 garious. All the sensations and desires of animals 
 arise out of their bodily structure, their acts are 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 133 
 
 influenced by this alone ; that which is agreeable 
 or painful to their bodies, they like or dislike. 
 
 How different from the mere animal soul does 
 the exalted spirit of man appear ! This is not 
 only conscious of its own existence, but clearly so. 
 It not only takes cognizance of the things that 
 surround it, (the animal soul does as much,) but 
 it recognizes the more subtle relations between 
 them, with their causes and consequences. It 
 investigates the wonders of the lower creation, it 
 masters the elements through its powers of inven- 
 tion, and presses them into its service ; it trans- 
 plants the produce of the vegetable kingdom into 
 foreign soils ; it conquers the strength of the most 
 powerful animals ; it calculates the movements of 
 the heavenly spheres through space, and bears 
 within itself a revelation of the Deity. 
 
 Of all this the animal knows nothing. The 
 soul of the most sagacious brute is incapable of 
 rising to the height attained by the thoughts even 
 of a young child. The animal soul has indeed a 
 will, but it only wills what its body desires, and 
 acts only in accordance with the bodily instincts. 
 The spirit of man, on the contrary, when its in- 
 nate nobility is uncorrupted, acknowledges a 
 higher law than that of bodily instincts ; it obeys, 
 not the flesh hi which it dwells, but itself alone, 
 that is to say, the laws of its reason, whereby it 
 distinguishes between good and evil, right and 
 wrong. He who obeys only self-imposed laws is 
 
134 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 free. Therefore the human spirit is capable of 
 freedom, and the animal soul, being the slave of 
 sensual instincts, is in consequence essentially dif- 
 ferent from it. The human spirit is akin to the 
 divine, the animal soul is akin to the flesh. 
 
 But the spirit of man is nevertheless, through 
 the earthly bonds in winch it is held, closely con- 
 nected with the animal soul. Frequently the 
 spirit is hardly master of itself; the animal soul 
 connected with its body overwhelms its more 
 exalted power, and thus arises a twofold law in 
 the human breast. Man does not always do that 
 which the spirit wills, but, on the contrary, often 
 does that which it abhors. Therefore St. Paul, 
 the inspired Apostle, said : — 
 
 " But I see another law in my members, war- 
 ring against the law of my mind, and bringing 
 me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my 
 members." (Rom. vii. 23,) 
 
 Further, the human spirit, in spite of its con- 
 sciousness of immortality, is also herein similar to 
 the animal soul, that, although it takes cognizance 
 of the things that surround ify it has no knowledge 
 of its own nature. It is familiar with all things, 
 but is a stranger to itself, and cannot say how or 
 wherefore it exists. All earthly matters it sur- 
 veys and organizes with wonderful acuteness, but 
 the spiritual world it cannot fathom, though it is 
 itself spirit. 
 
 Does the chain of the higher forces and 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 135 
 
 essences end with the spirit of man ? 0, if so, 
 how short were it not ! Who can believe, when 
 everything in the universe bears the stamp of 
 infinitude, that the circle of the higher powers 
 should consist only of the blind forces of nature, 
 the vital power, the animal soul, and the spirit of 
 man ? 
 
 Nay, feeling the inconceivably great distance 
 that separates my spirit from the Deity, I am will- 
 ing to believe in the existence of manifold powers, 
 and forces of a higher nature, — spirits more full 
 of knowledge, goodness, and power than ours, or 
 Angels as we term them in ordinary language. 
 
 These higher powers are, perhaps, or even 
 probably, as closely akin to the human spirit as 
 this is to the animal soul, or as the latter is to the 
 vital force in matter, or as this again is to the dead 
 forces in nature ; at all events, there can be no 
 doubt that these spirits, kindred to our own, are 
 as far above us in power and capacity as man is 
 above the animals, as animals are above plants, 
 and plants above minerals. 
 
 It seems almost as if I could picture to myself 
 the clearer insight of those higher spiritual ex- 
 istences, which rank next to ourselves in the scale 
 of beings. They must be able to look deeper into 
 the mysteries of God. While we mortals are 
 endowed with the capacity of understanding and 
 representing earthly matters, but are left in igno- 
 rance as to the nature of spirit, and as to the more 
 
136 THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 
 
 occult powers of the universe, — the higher spirits 
 are probably acquainted, and even familiar with, 
 the laws of spirit. Before their eyes the myste- 
 ries of the elementary bodies lie open, as the cup 
 of a flower, with its coronal and its stamens, lies 
 open before ours. We see only the outlines, forms, 
 and relations of things as they appear outwardly ; 
 the more lofty spirits, in virtue of their higher 
 faculties, of which we cannot even form a con- 
 ception, see and understand the internal nature 
 and structure of things. 
 
 But hold ! Whither do my thoughts venture 
 in their bold flight ? They are endeavoring to 
 break through the limits of their legitimate field 
 of activity, and sacrilegiously to force themselves 
 into the sanctuary of higher powers and spirits. 
 Retreat ! Await the hour which thy Creator has 
 appointed, when the all-animating Spirit, the Fa- 
 ther of the universe, shall call thee, and perhaps 
 place thee, also, in the rank of the more highly 
 endowed beings. 
 
 O Lord ! Can this be ? Shall I be worthy of 
 it ? Have my spiritual powers been sufficiently 
 developed ? Has my spirit ceased to obey earthly 
 desires, to follow the animal instincts of the body ? 
 has it ceased to give itself up to voluptuousness, 
 covetousness, anger, love of revenge, hatred, and 
 malice ? Is my spirit free, acting only in accord- 
 ance with its own laws, i. e. God's laws ? Does 
 it live for duty more than for worldly gain ? Is it 
 
THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS. 137 
 
 actuated at all times by love, and not by en- 
 mity ? 
 
 O Father ! O Lord God ! How my spirit 
 yearns towards thee ! How it longs to escape 
 from the imperfect and to reach the perfect ! 
 Could I gain the victory, how willingly would I 
 die! 
 
 Die ! What is death to the spirit ? It is but 
 parting from its earthly coil, the body, and 
 from its earthly sister, the soul. Even the lat- 
 ter escapes from its worn-out instrument, the 
 body, and withdraws from it its vegetable life. 
 
 Death never proceeds from the spirit to the 
 body, for the spirit is life. Death arises from 
 violent disturbance of the spirit's vehicle, the 
 body ; or in consequence of the natural forces 
 having completed their circulation in the organ- 
 ism, according to divine rule. They then with- 
 draw from the body, which thus loses light and 
 heat, motion and stimulant ; and the natural 
 forces being, as it were, the nourishing oil of the 
 flame of life, this becomes extinct, — the human 
 spirit is released, — is mature ! 
 
 O God ! may it be my right, in the solemn 
 hour of my dissolution, to proclaim in exultant 
 tones of joy : I am a power ripened for a better 
 state ! Admit me among you, O beings of higher 
 nature, brothers standing on a more exalted level 
 in the scale of creation ! I am your brother, for 
 I am immortal ! 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 Rock of God ! mine arm doth clasp thee : 
 
 Immortality ! I grasp thee : 
 
 Night and sorrow may surround me, 
 
 Grief and care my peace invade ; 
 Shall I faint because they wound me 1 
 
 No, I seek thy cooling shade ; 
 Longing after God's own rest 
 Fills my soul, and makes me blest. 
 
 As I reach that mountain height 
 Swells my soul with calm delight, 
 When the cool air, softly kissing, 
 
 Wakes a fresher spring within, 
 (Feeble image of God's blessing 
 
 After long-repented sin,) 
 Then I feel my course is gained, 
 Soon my goal shall be attained. 
 
 Then, then, what tongue can tell 
 The rapture of my bosom's swell, 
 When no sorrow more can grieve me ! 
 
 When God's mantle wraps me round, 
 Never more alone to leave me, 
 
 Every chain of sin unbound, 
 All my soul is happiness, 
 Freedom all my being's bliss. 
 
 (1 Cor. xv. 31.) 
 
 HE human body with which we are 
 invested on earth is but the transpar- 
 ent veil of the soul, and we should 
 ever hold in mind this relation be- 
 tween soul and body, for this conception is not 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 139 
 
 only true in itself, but is fruitful of important con- 
 clusions bearing upon life. 
 
 The Deity willed that the spirit of man should 
 be capable of placing itself in communication with 
 the non-spiritual existences, therefore it was en- 
 veloped in a refined earthly material, every part 
 of which is vivified by the spirit. Through means 
 of a tissue of nerves, so delicate as scarcely to be 
 perceptible to the naked eye, and which interpen- 
 etrate the entire body, the soul holds command 
 over the latter. Through the body the soul re- 
 ceives impressions from without, which tend to its 
 improvement, and it gradually learns to avail 
 itself of the body as an instrument of action 
 upon the outward world. If the bodily veil be 
 rent in twain, if the instrument be destroyed, the 
 spirit loses its power over its former habitation, 
 which becomes as foreign to it as all other earthly 
 matter. This estrangement between soul and 
 body is called death. 
 
 The body is a transparent covering of the soul. 
 In all movements and changes, in repose as in 
 action, we recognize the soul behind the appear- 
 ances of the body. It is not the body that loves 
 or is angered ; it is the soul that speaks in thun- 
 dering accents through the instrumentality of the 
 voice, and which smiles in the merry glance of 
 the eye ; it is the shame felt by the soul that suf- 
 fuses the cheek with blushes ; it is the soul's 
 courage, terror, longing, or suffering that is 
 
140 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 shown in the various expressions of its outward 
 covering. For when the soul is separated from 
 the delicate and mobile covering, which we call 
 body, what becomes of the latter ? It sinks 
 down and lies like a discarded garment. It 
 grows rigid like a marble statue, and we can 
 hardly believe that these dead ashes have ever 
 been animated by a higher essence. 
 
 It is not either the body that we love or hate in 
 others, but the soul which is concealed 'behind its 
 veil. It is the soul's loveliness that charms us ; 
 its wisdom or its virtue which inspires us with 
 respect ; its degeneracy that awakens our indig- 
 nation. In the presence of the soul-abandoned 
 corpse, all love and hatred cease, for our friend 
 or our foe has disappeared, and his discarded cov- 
 ering makes no more impression on us than any 
 other dead matter. 
 
 Natural as it is that no one should love the 
 body of another, but, on the contrary, the soul 
 that beams forth from it, as natural is it that each 
 man should love the body in which his own soul 
 is clothed. He seeks to protect and improve it, 
 because the soul requires a worthy and efficient 
 instrument ; he endeavors to adorn and beautify 
 it, because the innate and constant yearning of 
 the soul for perfection and distinction involun- 
 tarily passes over to that which is most intimately 
 connected with it. The soul even strives, in the 
 feeling of its own unworthiness, to cover its own 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 141 
 
 failings by the beauty of its earthly veil ; it tries 
 to draw the folds of this more closely around 
 itself, in order that it may not be seen in its ugli- 
 ness, — and of such persons we say that they pre- 
 sent a false appearance. 
 
 The necessity that each soul should be clad in 
 a veil of flesh is one of the eternal ordinances 
 of the Deity. Hence the deep and strong love 
 of the soul for its body; hence that clinging to 
 life which it is almost impossible to overcome. 
 
 But what is death ? Nothing but the separa- 
 tion of the soul from its earthly covering. What 
 becomes of the covering when discarded? Does 
 it vanish from God's creation? No, it moulders 
 into dust and ashes, and mingles with the rest of 
 the earth, out of whose nourishing elements it 
 was originally built up. It does not go out of 
 creation, but remains in it available for other pur- 
 poses. But what becomes of the unveiled soul ? 
 Does that vanish from God's creation ? O no ! 
 How could it be possible that the nobler element 
 should cease to exist, when the baser one is im- 
 perishable ? Are we to believe that it has been 
 removed from the infinitude of created beings, 
 because it has thrown off the veil through which 
 alone it could reveal its presence to our senses? 
 Nay, it lives ! For even the dust in which it 
 once enveloped itself is still in existence. It 
 lives ! For God is Creator, not annihilator ! It 
 lives ! For the All-wise cannot have repented 
 
142 DEATH IS MY GAIN 
 
 of the exalted purpose for which he called it into 
 being. 
 
 And is the throwing off of this earthly veil so 
 very painful? It is true the natural love of life 
 which the Creator has implanted in us makes us 
 recoil from the thought of parting from our earth- 
 ly covering ; but the strength of the human spirit 
 can conquer the terrors of nature. How many 
 noble men have not met death in the cause of 
 God, fatherland, faith, or friends ! Tliey felt no 
 fear of death. How many poor, weak, degen- 
 erate beings have not, driven by despair, volun- 
 tarily sacrificed a life that had become a burden 
 to them ! 
 
 The dying do not practise hypocrisy, and there- 
 fore from their features we may judge what is 
 passing in their minds. This being the case, it 
 would almost appear that a pleasurable feeling 
 must be experienced when the spirit is leaving 
 its mortal coil ; for it has been frequently ob- 
 served that the features of persons who are dying 
 from painful diseases at the last moment assume 
 an expression of cheerful repose, and that even 
 around the lips of the corpse a placid smile, left 
 by the spirit in parting, lingers, and seems to say, 
 "Ah, what blessed relief!" 
 
 But the imagination of those persons who 
 attach too much importance to the body, and 
 who therefore shudder at the idea that it is 
 to be delivered up to destruction in the earth, 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 143 
 
 makes death more terrible than it is in reality. 
 Giving way to self-delusion, they even at times 
 seem to fancy that the dead dust feels pain- 
 fully its state in the earth, whereas in fact that 
 which feels has hastened into a higher existence, 
 and the corpse, the discarded veil of the spirit, is 
 nothing more than insensible clay. 
 
 Parting from the habitual and pleasant relations 
 of life, the loss of well-known pleasures, and 
 separation from beloved friends on earth, may 
 indeed be painful. But in these cases it is not 
 death itself, but that which we leave behind us, 
 that causes us to mourn. It is our undue attach- 
 ment to the earthly goods which have only been 
 lent to us, and were never intended to be our 
 lasting possessions, that occasions the grief which 
 we experience. It is, therefore, an imperfection 
 of the soul, a want of true wisdom, which entails 
 suffering, as does every fault. Yea, even the 
 love we bear our friends may be reprehensible. 
 Can we expect £hat the Deity will take our obsti- 
 nate attachments into consideration, and alter his 
 higher purposes to suit our views ? And in what 
 does the parting from our beloved in death differ 
 from every other parting, even from the " good- 
 night " we wish our friends before we go to sleep ? 
 
 Death may indeed be fearful to those who 
 have entirely, or in great measure, neglected 
 their immortal soul in this life, who — like the 
 animals thoughtless of the future beyond the 
 
144 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 grave — have only taken heed for the well-be- 
 ing and enjoyment of their bodies ; who have 
 oppressed their fellow-men, or slandered and de- 
 ceived them, in order to gain for themselves more 
 honors, more riches, and more enjoyment ; to 
 whom it seems preposterous to restrain their 
 sensual desires, their animal instincts, in order 
 to strengthen the power of their souls ; who call 
 it folly to sacrifice earthly pleasure for the sake 
 of virtue ; who consider it silly enthusiasm to 
 work for the good of others, when no thanks 
 are to be reaped, or when persecution and great 
 sacrifices must be encountered. 
 
 When the moment has come for such persons 
 to throw off the earthly coil, the body they so 
 much love, for which alone they think God has 
 created them ; when they are to part from the 
 dust, for which alone they lived, to which they 
 sacrificed all things, for which they committed so 
 much injustice, — to them indeed death must be 
 terrible. For poor, unworthy, miserable, imper- 
 fect are their neglected souls, which have lost the 
 sweet innocence of which they could boast in 
 childhood, and which are now loaded with the 
 burden of many sins. As they sowed in life, so 
 they have reaped. For the eternal future of 
 their spirits they never sowed. 
 
 Even when in the full enjoyment of health the 
 unrighteous man cannot at times help blushing at 
 his own depravity. In the midst of his evil-doing 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 145 
 
 he is obliged to confess to himself that he is act- 
 ing in a manner which he cannot justify either 
 to God or to man. But his soul, though feeling 
 what is right, is conquered by the power of his 
 sensual being, to which long habit has given the 
 mastery. But when the power of the senses 
 declines with the strength of the body, when 
 self-delusion is no longer possible, and the soul 
 recognizes itself hi all its hideousness, — then 
 what must be his state ? With what feelings 
 must he look to the future, who has lost all upon 
 earth, and who has nothing to hope from eternity ? 
 
 How different the condition of the wise and 
 noble spirit, which knows its duties and fulfils 
 them, and honors the high purpose for which 
 the omnipotence of God called it into existence. 
 How different the condition of the Christian, who 
 has gained full ascendency over his lower nature, 
 and ever places the claims of the soul above those 
 of the body ; who understands the deep import of 
 the words, to live in Christ. 
 
 To him death is a gain. How could it be a 
 loss to him ? To him who has made the divine 
 thoughts of Christ his own, neither this earth, nor 
 his own house, nor village, nor city, is his true 
 home. He is conscious that he was not born to 
 be forever attached to the clod of earth which he 
 cultivates to satisfy Ins earthly necessities, but to 
 be a citizen of the eternal and infinite realm of 
 God. In his eyes it is not this short life on earth 
 7 J 
 
146 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 that is the most important, but the life in the 
 entire divine creation. The universe is his 
 Father's house, and God, who dwells therein, is 
 his Father, and every soul in it is bound to him 
 by the ties of brotherhood. 
 
 To him death is a gain. For what loss does 
 the soul sustain in death ? It only throws off its 
 heavy earthly veil ; it only changes its garment ; 
 it receives from the Father of love a more beau- 
 tiful raiment, instead of the cast-off vestment, 
 which its altered circumstances have rendered 
 useless. The soul remains what it was, God re- 
 mains with it, the divine universe, with all the 
 wonders of creation, remain. What does it lose ? 
 The friends and relatives whom it loved on 
 earth ? O no, they are still in the house of the 
 Father, they are still bound to it by the same 
 ties of brotherhood as before, though they cannot 
 communicate with it any longer through earthly 
 means. Nay, its loved ones are not lost to it. 
 That cannot be lost which is in the hands of God. 
 
 To him who knows how to live with Jesus, 
 death is a gain. Or can it be said that this sublu- 
 nary life is full of roses, and has no thorns ? It 
 is true that with the change I lose many pleas- 
 ures, but then, also, I shall be placed above many 
 fears and many sorrows. Tears will never be 
 shed by me again, for sweet is the fate of liber- 
 ated souls ! Is this earthly life so full of unmixed 
 happiness that we should wish it to endure for- 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 447 
 
 ever ? Why do persons of very advanced ao-e 
 so frequently long for rest, for dissolution, for 
 liberation, for removal into the better life ? and 
 why, among thousands and thousands of people, 
 is there not one who, if the choice were given, 
 would begin life over again if its course were to 
 be exactly the same ? Well, then, what great 
 loss can this life be in reality, when there are so 
 few to whom it has throug-h its whole course 
 brought sufficient happiness to induce them to 
 wish it to remain forever as it was ? Is it not 
 rather a gain for souls, who can with confidence 
 resign themselves to it, to go over into another 
 and a better world ? After all, what are the 
 terrors of death ? Merely the terrors of a child- 
 ishly timid imagination. The same God, O soul, 
 that divests thee of one garment, will invest thee 
 with another. 
 
 He who knows how to live with Christ, will 
 also know how to die joyfully with him. (1 Cor. 
 xv. 31.) He dies each time he lifts his thoughts 
 to God and forgets all earthly matters. He dies 
 each time he communes in spirit with his de- 
 parted loved ones, and feels that he is with them. 
 For in such solemn moments this world is to him 
 as if it were not. He is in the presence of God, 
 in the presence of those he loved. He is what 
 his soul will be when it has been uncoiled from its 
 earthly veil ; only not in such great perfection as 
 it will be when it shall be able to communicate 
 
148 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 with God and the loved friends, in a new vest- 
 ment, and as it were through means of more 
 glorious instruments. 
 
 Death is my gain ; for what is the purpose of 
 my life on earth ? Like all mankind, I am des- 
 tined to live eternally ; all nature teaches me this ; 
 and therefore, even here below, I am to live for 
 eternity; and all my longing is for a better, 
 higher existence. It is with this in view that I 
 labor to improve myself; it is with this in view 
 that I endeavor to adorn my spirit with every 
 virtue. That which I become through Christ, 
 that is, through following his divine example, that 
 shall I be on yonder side the grave. It is there- 
 fore death that leads me to the desired goal. 
 Through it I reach what I have been ever striv- 
 ing for ; through it I become what I was destined 
 to be. 
 
 Death is my gain. I exchange a less perfect 
 garment for a more perfect one, exchange a lower 
 seat, in the great paternal house of the universe, 
 for a higher one ; I exchange an inferior degree 
 of happiness for a state of bliss, of which my 
 limited earthly faculties can as little form a con- 
 ception, as the lowly worm in the dust can form 
 a conception of the joys that may vibrate in the 
 bosom of rational man. I proceed from a neces- 
 sitous state into a world of overflowing plenty, 
 where a drop becomes an ocean, and a spark of 
 light becomes a sun. 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 149 
 
 Death is my gain. Why should my soul be 
 alarmed at the unknown road along which it has 
 to travel ? Is the path that I have to wander 
 here below better known to me ? Is not each 
 succeeding hour of my life shrouded to me in 
 impenetrable darkness? Do I know what will 
 happen to me the next moment ? Whither I shall 
 go ? And yet I live through each of those hours, 
 and each becomes light to me as soon as I live 
 in it. 
 
 And equally light will be the hour that succeeds 
 that of death. The unknown road will be made 
 known to me as soon as I enter upon it. Why, 
 then, should I recoil from it with a shudder ? Is 
 it not the same as has been trodden by the dear 
 ones who have gone before me ? Why should I 
 not be rejoiced to follow in the path of those souls 
 who will ever be precious to me ? Perhaps, in the 
 very moment when the earthly veil falls from my 
 spirit, I shall recognize those dear ones, whom I 
 believed so far removed from me, and shall learn 
 that they were always nearer to me than in my 
 earthly state I had any conception of. 
 
 Yea, verily, death is my gain ! It is closer 
 union with the Father of spirits ; it is reunion 
 with my glorified loved ones, for whom my soul 
 is yearning ; reunion with those for whom to this 
 day my wounded heart bleeds, my eyes weep. 
 Reunion ! Renewed possession ! Renewed life ! 
 O ye whom God's hand directed towards me, and 
 
150 DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 linked to me in his creation ! To find you again ! 
 To love you again ! To be forever united with 
 beloved and glorified souls ! What bliss in this 
 thought ! God gave you to me : God, the most 
 exalted love, inspired us with this love, which 
 death cannot destroy, and which binds the mortal, 
 as with invisible bonds, to the inhabitants of the 
 higher world ! God does not destroy that which 
 is holy, which is good, for it is his own work ! 
 And love is the highest good which souls can ac- 
 quire in their mutual intercourse. It is because 
 he is himself Infinite Love, that God has peopled 
 the universe with living souls. 
 
 Death is my gain ! May this be my last sigh 
 on my bed of death ; and may the thought of the 
 love of my Creator, and of the dear ones that 
 have preceded me into another life, be the last 
 that occupies my soul, ere the veil falls from it. 
 When it drops, my spirit shall at once be in those 
 realms of glory which they entered before me. 
 
 Therefore, O Christ, O divine Revealer of the 
 Father, be thou my life ; for without thee, to die 
 were to see my soul enter into destruction ! O God- 
 enlightened Teacher, I will think thy thoughts, 
 I will walk according to thy divine doctrines. I 
 will contemplate from thy elevation all earthly 
 matters. With thy love I will love my brethren, 
 with thy zeal endeavor to spread joy and happi- 
 ness around me. With thy courage I will over- 
 come every obstacle to virtue, and will master 
 
DEATH IS MY GAIN. 
 
 151 
 
 myself so as to be able to act justly, nobly, di- 
 vinely. With thy patience I will bear every ill 
 of life, with thy wisdom and moderation enjoy ite 
 pleasures. With thy faith I will walk meekly 
 and trustingly in the ways of Providence, and 
 through thine eyes I will look up to eternity as 
 to my Father's house, and to God as to my 
 Father. 
 
 For if Christ be my life, death is my gain. 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 Part I. 
 
 Star of day 
 Whose laughing ray 
 Is to cheer our homesteads given, — 
 Stars of night 
 Shining bright, 
 In the deep blue vault of heaven, ■ — 
 Though ye shine 
 With peace divine, 
 Making lovely earth and sea, 
 Comes the feeling 
 O'er me stealing 
 Still how dark man's life may be. 
 Sadly turning 
 From the burning 
 Of your golden glances bright, 
 Thus I raise 
 My trembling gaze 
 To the everlasting light, 
 Which o'er cradle and o'er grave, 
 O'er the vale where palm-trees wave, 
 O'er the bloody battle strife, 
 O'er the joys and tears of life, — 
 Whether fortune smile or frown, 
 Still unchangeably looks down. 
 
 (Rom. xi. 33, 34.) 
 
 §||^ HE months pass calmly over our heads 
 heedless of our hopes and our sorrows. 
 The seasons vary in unbroken succes- 
 sion. Old things become new, and 
 new ones old; the works of the past perish, in 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 153 
 
 their turn to be forgotten. It is ever the same. 
 Everything has its invariable course assigned to 
 it, its inevitable goal marked out for it. Every- 
 thing is subject to one great iron rule, — the 
 stars of heaven as well as the flowers of the field ; 
 the rock as well as the worm that crawls at its 
 foot; the entire nation as well as the single m - 
 dividuals born into it. Nothing; can be otherwise 
 than it is ; nothing will ever be otherwise than it is 
 appointed to be. Such is destiny, — the eternal ! 
 
 What is tlestiny? — How? Everything has 
 been pre-ordained from eternity? No blossom 
 fades, no infant weeps, no rock is precipitated 
 from a mountain, no nation perishes, unless it 
 has been so ordained from the beginning of time ? 
 What, then, of my virtue and my sins ? Who is 
 the criminal, who the judge ? Is my will also 
 pre-ordained by destiny? Am I nothing more 
 nor less in the great universe than the mote 
 dancing in the sunbeam, not as it wills, but as 
 it must? If everything that happens now has 
 been pre-ordained since the beginning of time, 
 of what avail are my sighs, my wishes, my 
 striving for perfection ? Of what avail are my 
 prayers ? Were not these prayers also pre- 
 ordained in the eternal councils of destiny ? I 
 am, then, but a machine, forming part of the 
 great all ; and my supposed free-will is but a 
 delusion ? 
 
 What is eternal destiny? It is the immense, 
 7* 
 
154 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 infinite, immovable universe, in which all things 
 follow each other necessarily as cause and effect. 
 Each effect becomes in its turn the cause of new 
 effects. The tree brings forth seed, and the seed 
 brings forth a tree. My youth having been what 
 it was, I must be what I am. The pre-ordained 
 occurrences of last year have produced those of 
 this year ; and had it not been for those of long- 
 forgotten centuries, we should not have witnessed 
 the events of our times. Thus has one thing been 
 linked within another from the beginning of time, 
 and this concatenation extends into the infinite 
 future. There, as in the past, one wheel of the 
 huge world-engine drives the other, one part is 
 indissolubly linked to another. Such is the rule 
 of destiny, and therefore naught can be changed. 
 Just as he who throws a stone into the still waters 
 of the lake knows beforehand the sound that will 
 ensue, and the eddies which will be formed, and 
 which, spreading hi ever wider circles, will ex- 
 tend to the distant shores, while in the centre, 
 whence the movement first issued, the waters 
 have already become still again ; so might one, 
 acquainted with the nature of all things in the 
 world, know by anticipation, from the movement 
 given to them in the first instance, thousands of 
 years previously, what would be the events and 
 occurrences during thousands of succeeding years. 
 But that would be omniscience, and omniscience is 
 not given to mortal man. Therefore he totters 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 155 
 
 with uncertain step through the great labyrinth 
 of the universe, knowing not what went before or 
 what is to come after ; calling what befalls him, 
 sometimes fortune, sometimes chance, sometimes 
 unavoidable necessity. But the terms chance 
 and accident are merely terms applied to those 
 things the immediate cause of which man is un- 
 able to detect. There can be no such thing as 
 chance, as every effect has its cause. Every- 
 thing is under the rule of necessity ; everything 
 has been included in the councils of eternal 
 destiny. 
 
 Everything? How? Is then the infinite 
 universe, with everything that stirs and moves 
 within it, nothing but a machine, a well-con- 
 structed clock-work in which nothing can take 
 place but what the constructor has foreseen and 
 pre-arranged? I myself am, then, but a very 
 insignificant part of this world's machine ? I am 
 struck with dismay. What am I ? Where am 
 I ? How alone I stand with my joys and my 
 sorrows in the midst of this cold, rigid organiza- 
 tion of the world, amid these dead, will-less be- 
 ings ! Why am I destined to feel and love, when 
 there is nothing that deserves my love ? Why 
 hate, when all evil, even vice, is pre-ordained, 
 and follows a law of necessity ? Alas, my dearest 
 wishes, my sweetest hopes, abandon me ! For 
 what purpose is this juggle carried on ? Why 
 should I be made to feel repentance for faults 
 
156 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 which I was pre-ordained to commit? Why 
 should I hate sin, if eternal destiny has conse- 
 crated me to that also? 
 
 No, no ! It cannot be so ! Every feeling with- 
 in me contradicts this conception of the universe 
 and its laws. My spirit revolts against it. I am 
 distinctly conscious of the freedom of my will; 
 and though my body may be similar to a passive 
 instrument, my spirit is not a machine, it is liv- 
 ing ; it rules and determines after mature reflec- 
 tion. Nay, the world is not a cold, dead mass, in 
 which everything moves without consciousness, 
 according to eternally pre-ordained laws. The 
 action, the power, and the goodness of a living 
 and loving God animate all things, and spread 
 happiness around. O, what would the world be 
 without love, without a Deity, without justice, 
 freedom, and retribution? A gigantic corpse, 
 from which the soul has fled ; an unconscious 
 play of things, in which there is no place for the 
 highest and the best, for virtue, love, perfection, 
 but only for then names. A miserable, unmean- 
 ing, unsolvable, never-ending riddle ; and the 
 most wretched of beings in it, man, with the 
 claims of his reason and the sentiments of his 
 heart ! 
 
 No ; such a conception of destiny is an error of 
 the understanding, arising from a one-sided view 
 of things, which entangles it in self-contradiction, 
 and sets it at variance with everything that we 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 157 
 
 perceive in the outer world, as well as with our 
 inward consciousness. 
 
 What is eternal destiny ? It is the. immense, 
 fixed, endless organization of the world, in which 
 all things follow each other necessarily as cause 
 and effect. Each effect becomes in its turn a 
 cause ; therefore that which takes place to-day is 
 the necessary consequence of the past, and that 
 which I am to-day is the necessary fruit of what 
 I was in days gone by. I cannot deny this ; how, 
 then, shall I avoid those errors of the under- 
 standing in which I am again in danger of being 
 involved ? 
 
 I will take a survey of the various aspects of 
 the universe. When I do this, I perceive in the 
 dead stone, and through all created things up to 
 the highest creature, an infinite number of forces. 
 Everything that is, is in itself a force or agency, — 
 that is to say, it acts upon the surrounding matter. 
 Even the dead stone is a force or agency, other- 
 wise it could not act upon the things around it, 
 through its weight and its cohesion ; otherwise it 
 could not act upon our senses, through its color, 
 its form, or its smell. That which produces no 
 effect upon me is to me non-existent, but that 
 which acts upon me is a force. 
 
 The forces present in God's universe are as 
 manifold as they are countless. They form an 
 immense, graduated scale, from the most insig- 
 nificant entity to the highest. They unite with 
 
158 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 other forces, and through such union produce new 
 phenomena. What a variety of forces are there 
 not, for instance, in the body which we call a 
 stone ! How much greater still is the number 
 and variety in plants ; and beyond these again in 
 animals ! But there is not only variety in these 
 forces, but also gradations. The vital force of the 
 plant is a higher agency than any that resides 
 in the stone. The plant multiplies itself, has its 
 youth and maturity, and propagates its species. 
 Higher still is the force which we call animal 
 soul ; because this latter feels, chooses, judges. 
 Higher still is the force of the human spirit in 
 the beautiful distinctness of its self-consciousness. 
 And forces higher even than this range above us, 
 and are called in the Scriptures angels and arch- 
 angels. 
 
 But all these families and kingdoms of forces 
 in God's creation are what they are by the will 
 of God ; each has its special sphere of action, its 
 special conditions, its special laws assigned to it, 
 and according to these it must exist and act. 
 Therefore the stone is, and ever remains, a stone, 
 and retains its qualities as such ; therefore the 
 roots of the vine and of the thistle seek only such 
 nourishing substances as are in conformity with 
 their nature ; therefore the birds of the air live 
 and move otherwise than the fishes in the sea. 
 Every force in nature has received from God its 
 peculiar law, and thus the human spirit has also 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 159 
 
 its own law, which is neither that of the animal, 
 the plant, nor the stone. 
 
 In conformity with these special laws of their 
 nature is the action of all created things upon 
 each other. They unite and separate, attract and 
 repel each other, seek and avoid each other, and 
 thus arise the teeming life and ceaseless movement 
 in the universe. The mutual conflict between 
 the various forces constitutes the life of the uni- 
 verse. 
 
 As none of the forces which in their totality 
 constitute the universe can act otherwise than the 
 sphere of action assigned to them and the laws 
 laid down for them by God will admit of, their 
 action is the necessary consequence of these laws. 
 And when the forces came into being, the will 
 of God, the great and eternal Constructor of the 
 worlds, foresaw all the effects they were to pro- 
 duce. This was the eternal pre- ordination of that 
 which was to be. 
 
 But when God from the beginning willed the 
 existence of the world, he willed it in his infinite 
 wisdom. Therefore the conflict of the forces 
 created no confusion, but progressive develop- 
 ment ; not internecine destruction, but a great 
 and wonderful life, comprising all and in which 
 each serves the other. Such was, such is, and 
 and such will ever be, the great order of the 
 universe, in which stars and grains of dust move 
 in their appointed circles, in which the humblest 
 
160 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 grasses and mosses bloom and die away as do 
 entire nations. 
 
 And when God in his infinite wisdom created 
 the order of the universe, and created it for in- 
 finitely exalted ends, he created it also in the 
 fulness of his love. He, the All-Good One, willed 
 that the whole should be infinitely harmonious, 
 and that all the sentient forces in it should enjoy 
 happiness. Therefore we see provision made even 
 for the happiness of the humblest insect ; and for 
 the spirit of man he provided far higher bliss. 
 But the insect is bereft of its joy, and feels pain, 
 as soon as it violates the laws of its nature ; and 
 in like manner the spirit of man forfeits the higher 
 joys provided for it, when it fails to fulfil the law 
 of its being. And this law is, that it should be- 
 come perfect, as its Father in heaven is perfect ; 
 consequently, that it should maintain the more 
 exalted position assigned to it, and rule the lower 
 forces, and not allow itself to be ruled by them. 
 The spirit is bound to hold in abeyance the animal 
 forces that reside in its body, to subdue the impure 
 desires of the latter, and to look up to God and 
 to the spiritual world to which it belongs. The 
 spirit's law is conscience, yearning after perfection, 
 abhorrence of all evil, and indestructible desire for 
 freedom. If man allow his spirit to be conquered 
 in its conflicts with the animal and plant-like parts 
 of his nature, he becomes wretched and contempt- 
 ible in his own eyes. For in the order of the 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. \Q\ 
 
 universe, everything is a concatenation of neces- 
 sary consequences. Sin and imperfection give 
 birth to suffering. 
 
 Man is consequently not pre-ordained to be 
 the victim of sin and corruption, but to be made 
 happy through his perfections. If he firmly wills 
 it, he can attain this perfection in all the relations 
 of life. He may know beforehand, that when he 
 feels sorrow or suffering there is something in 
 himself which is not as it ought to be. The sor- 
 row and suffering are in themselves his guides 
 to happiness. This is his destiny! 
 
 Whatever fate may befall us, we are consequent- 
 ly independent of it, in as far as we are ivhat we 
 ought to be. Our dear ones may die, but we are 
 not made unhappy by this, unless we forget that 
 they and we are members of the spiritual world ; 
 that, as spirits, they cannot be lost to us ; and 
 that we ought not to allow ourselves to be 
 attached to the perishable clay in the grave, as 
 though it were imperishable. The death of the 
 body was necessary in accordance with the laws 
 that rule that which is earthly ; our grief is the 
 necessary consequence of our too great attach- 
 ment to that which pertains to earth. This is 
 destiny ! But all things pre-ordained by God are 
 beneficent, they strengthen our powers ; by gentle- 
 ness they lure, or by terrible earnestness they 
 force, the spirit to rise from that which is earthly 
 and perishable to the knowledge and love of the 
 
162 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 imperishable, from the animal to the spiritual 
 which constitutes our true dignity. Wars and 
 battles, famine and misery, disease, robbery, and 
 arson, come within the rules of destiny. But 
 what are they ? Nothing more than the destruc- 
 tion of what is perishable. They point towards 
 that which is imperishable, eternal ; that is, to that 
 inward happiness of which nothing can deprive 
 us. Thy despair at the misfortunes which be- 
 fall thee, was it comprised in the doom of thy des- 
 tiny ? Yes, because it is a necessary consequence 
 of thine own imperfection. The peace of mind 
 which the sage enjoys, in spite of every misfor- 
 tune, is an equally necessary consequence of his 
 greatness of mind, and of the conquering power 
 of his soul. 
 
 The more virtuous and the more self-possessed 
 the human spirit be, the more invulnerable it is, 
 the more independent of destiny. God is raised 
 above destiny because he is the All-Holy One. 
 The more holy our inward being, the nearer 
 we stand to God ; and the nearer we are to God, 
 the higher we are lifted above the power of des- 
 tiny. 
 
 Thus the apparent contradictions are dissolved 
 into beautiful harmonies ; and from out of the 
 darkness comes forth light. Everything must 
 work for our good, everything must be on our side, 
 because God is on our side. The pre-ordinations 
 of the Lord are wise, just, and beneficent. Their 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 163 
 
 end is not to make us slaves without a will of our 
 own, but to give freedom to our spirits ; they 
 work with our spirits in order to raise them above 
 fate. O what unbounded riches in the wisdom 
 and knowledge of God ! How impenetrable are 
 his judgments, and how inscrutable his ways ! 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 From forth the darkness, deep and vast, 
 By destiny our lot is cast ; 
 Round all of earth her net she draws, 
 And the world owns her guiding laws. 
 
 But One there is, enthroned on high, 
 Beneath whose feet sits destiny, 
 Who binds together flesh and soul, 
 And holds e'en fate in his control. 
 
 For destiny is but God's slave ; 
 He rules, his grace alone can save ; 
 And mortals strive their game to make, 
 For destiny, that priceless stake. 
 
 And Jesus leads the spirit choir 
 Whose souls from dust to God aspire. 
 He Fate under subjection lays, 
 Who unto God his soul can raise. 
 
 (Isaiah lv. 8, 9.) 
 
 ^DIVIDUAL sages who lived and 
 taught in remote antiquity, and sub- 
 sequently entire nations, observed the 
 rule of destiny in the course of hu- 
 man affairs, and all hearts trembled before the 
 dread power thus recognized. Philosophic minds 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 165 
 
 among the heathens endeavored to solve the fear- 
 ful riddle. They called the eternal, inexorable 
 power to which everything was subject, which 
 nothing could resist, blind fate. On it, they be- 
 lieved, depended the lot of the meanest worm, 
 as that of the most exalted man and of every 
 nation. Nay, even all the deities with which the 
 imagination of mortals then peopled earth and 
 heaven were, in then' opinion, subject to this 
 universal law ; even the mightiest of the gods 
 were not beyond its power. 
 
 This belief in an all-ruling fate could not fail 
 to arise among men who had not yet learnt to 
 distinguish clearly between the world of matter 
 and the world of spirit; but who were, on the 
 contrary, so steeped in the material, that physical 
 and moral well-being were to them identical. 
 Beauty, power, riches, honors, were their highest 
 goods. For these they lived ; and as they recog- 
 nized no deeper import in life, the value of their 
 existence rose and sank in their eyes hi proportion 
 to the amount of these earthly advantages which 
 fell to their lot. The fate which robbed them of 
 these could therefore rob them of all. But very 
 few individuals had any intuitive perception of a 
 higher good, of which even the most relentless 
 fate could not deprive man without his own con- 
 sent. Still fewer had the courage to raise them- 
 selves above the power of fate through their own 
 magnanimity of soul. Those, however, who did 
 
166 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 bo awakened at that period already the surprise 
 and the reverence of their fellow-men by the 
 heroism of their virtues ; nay, the world was 
 even inclined to place them among the gods. 
 
 The views of the Christians regarding!; this 
 point are, however, very different from those 
 of the heathens. Jesus led the human race back 
 from the errors of the imagination and the under- 
 standing into the paths of eternal truth. He 
 revealed to us the only God as the most perfect 
 of all beings, and as the Father of spirits, whom 
 we are to worship in spirit, and not with offerings 
 and such like. He revealed to us that the whole 
 purpose of man's existence is not hedged in be- 
 tween the cradle and the grave, and he allowed us 
 to cast a glance into the mysteries of eternity. 
 He taught us to hold light the life on this earth, 
 because this is not the true sphere of our hap- 
 piness. " In my Father's house," said Jesus, 
 " there are many mansions." He taught us to 
 distinguish between the value of earthly and of 
 heavenly or spiritual things. " If ye have but 
 wherewithal to clothe and to feed your bodies," 
 said Jesus, " then be content. Lay not up treas- 
 ures for yourselves on earth, but in heaven, and 
 seek before all things the kingdom of God. Be 
 perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect. For 
 what availeth it a man if he gain the whole 
 world, and he suffer damage in his soul ? " He 
 taught that the soul ought to have the mastery 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. \^ 
 
 over the body, and pointed out the majesty of the 
 spirit, and its superiority over every good this 
 earth can afford. He showed, in his own life, 
 how a man may rise above his fate, and render it 
 powerless to affect him. He proved that the pre- 
 ordained course of things may indeed interfere 
 with our earthly concerns, but that it is powerless 
 to destroy our inward peace, or the bliss of our 
 spirits. 
 
 Destiny or fate is consequently the divine law 
 to which the material world only is subject. Bod- 
 ily health and disease, life and death, the im- 
 provement or the decline in our earthly position, 
 the increase or decrease of the consideration in 
 which we are held, of our influence, or our 
 power, the rise or fall of nations, victory or de- 
 feat on the field of battle, — all these, as things 
 earthly, are subject to the law of destiny that 
 rules all terrestrial matters. 
 
 But spirits are subject to a very different law. 
 They do not participate in the fate of that which 
 pertains to earth. Their essence is freedom, 
 their law virtue, their end likeness to God. The 
 fate of the material world only regards them in 
 as far as they are connected with matter. The 
 less self-dependent they are, the more they incline 
 to earthly things, the more they mix themselves 
 up with the sublunary world, the more also they 
 come under the law of destiny. He who places 
 himself under a strange master, must submit to 
 
168 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 his yoke. He who resigns his freedom and his 
 self-control, must be content to be treated as a 
 slave. Therefore only he who places his happi- 
 ness in outward things is really unhappy ; there- 
 fore only the follower of Christ, the true sage, 
 is really happy. To them that love God, all 
 things (even the apparently most terrible) work 
 for good. 
 
 Spirits are subject to a very different law from 
 that which governs material things ; therefore 
 they suffer when they submit to a foreign yoke. 
 In so doing they fall from their original dignity, 
 they become unfaithful to their calling ; they de- 
 sire to be, not exalted spirits, but superior animals. 
 Yet God still loves them. The law of destiny 
 becomes their chastening rod, and drives them 
 back to self-knowledge, urges them to lay hold 
 on higher things. And through fearful disasters 
 and misfortunes the voice of God speaks to them, 
 saying : " My thoughts are not your thoughts, 
 neither are your ways my ways ; for as the 
 heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways 
 higher than your ways, and my thoughts than 
 your thoughts." (Isaiah lv. 8, 9.) 
 
 We cannot, indeed, entirely dissever the bonds 
 which bind us to earth. Our place in the scale 
 of spirits is still so low, that we must of necessity 
 live in immediate and close contact with the infe- 
 rior beings of the universe. But it depends upon 
 ourselves to rise to a higher rank in the scale. 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. K39 
 
 To help us to do so Jesus the Messiah was sent. 
 He came to deliver us from the powers of dark- 
 ness and the bonds of death, which hold in sub- 
 jection all that is earthly. He came to help us 
 reconquer our lost liberty. But his redeeming 
 life will be of no avail to those who cannot deny 
 themselves, who cannot renounce the world, who 
 cannot, like him, live a righteous, innocent, and 
 unselfish life. His atoning death will prove of no 
 avail to those who do not possess spiritual freedom 
 and magnanimity of soul sufficient to wish to 
 please God rather than man, and to die as the 
 Saviour died. 
 
 We cannot entirely emancipate ourselves from 
 earthly things ; but we must not allow ourselves 
 to be mastered by our love for these, but maintain 
 our freedom in regard to them. We are obliged 
 and bound to seek food for our bodies, but we 
 are equally bound not to attach great importance 
 to the gratification of our palates. We ought to 
 dress with propriety ; but we must not allow our- 
 selves to be so far conquered by a taste for out- 
 ward show as to feel unhappy because we may no 
 longer be able to appear in costly raiment. Pur- 
 ple, velvet, and silk are, after all, not far differ- 
 ent from the winding-sheet in which a corpse is 
 clothed. We ought to labor to improve our 
 pecuniary means, in order that we ourselves, as 
 well as those who belong to us, may be raised 
 above dependence upon the caprice of others, and 
 
 8 
 
170 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 that we may be able to contribute the more to the 
 furtherance of the public welfare ; but we must 
 not seek our greatest happiness in the accumula- 
 tion of riches, or pride ourselves upon possessing 
 more than others ; and then, should our circum- 
 stances ever be reduced, this will cause us no 
 shame and no great unhappiness. We ought not 
 to despise the good opinion of others, nor be in- 
 different to the influence we may exercise over 
 them ; but we ought never to seek consideration 
 or influence except through our merits and our 
 virtues. For only in as far as the public consid- 
 eration in which a man is held, is at the same time 
 accompanied by, and has sprung from, public con- 
 fidence, can it become a means of doing much 
 good. But to thirst for consideration for its own 
 sake only, to wish for power merely for the sake 
 of possessing it, is to mistake the path leading to 
 the goal for the goal itself, to mistake the means 
 for the end, the instrument for the work it is 
 meant to fashion. To stand high or low in this 
 world's estimation, to enjoy rank and titles, or to 
 have neither, is a matter of indifference to the 
 immortal spirit, which knows that its true dignity 
 resides within itself, and depends upon nothing 
 outward ; and that, not the distinction which is 
 bestowed by man, but the worth which the spirit 
 owes to its own efforts, is indestructible. 
 
 We cannot and must not disdain the pleasures 
 and joys of life. They tend to refresh and enliven 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. yi\ 
 
 our whole being. But we must not cling to them 
 with such passion, that when they pass away we 
 feel as though we must pass away with them. 
 We must love the objects of our affection, friends, 
 parents, or children, with such tenderness as is 
 natural to refined souls. But we ouodit not to 
 forget that it is not then' body that we love, — 
 this will grow old and die, — but their spirit. We 
 should ever bear in mind that their last hour on 
 earth will and must come, but that all-ruling des- 
 tiny cannot separate the spirit from the spirit, but 
 only the body from the body. He who founds 
 his highest happiness on the life -breath of a mor- 
 tal, founds it on a frail thing indeed. He who 
 does not regard the universe as his Heavenly Fa- 
 ther's house, who does not recognize the spirit as 
 the object of his love, who does not see in immor- 
 tality the guaranty of his happiness, let him be- 
 ware of tender affection, if he would not love 
 that which would destroy him, if he would not 
 be the victim of a fearful destiny. For what he 
 loves must one day become dust and ashes. 
 
 Raise yourselves above dust and ashes, ye 
 chosen of God, ye followers of Christ ! Enjoy 
 the goods of this world, as sweet, fleeting, tran- 
 sient gifts, but lay up your treasures in heaven ! 
 Pluck the blooming rose, but forget not that to- 
 morrow it will be withered and faded. Live with 
 what is earthly, not in it, but in yourselves. Ac- 
 cept of every pleasure, but do not give yourselves 
 
172 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 up to it. Despise neither honors, nor dignities, 
 nor riches, but do not sacrifice to them even the 
 least of your higher duties ; let the gifts of for- 
 tune be to you mere accidental advantages, for 
 they cannot forever belong to you, and you belong 
 still less to them. He who acknowledges no mas- 
 ter but himself, his virtues, and his God, is master 
 of all things ; he is further removed than other 
 men from the sorrows of this earth, and over him 
 destiny holds no sway. He may be poor, despised, 
 persecuted ; he may lose his fortune, his comforts, 
 his friends, the consideration in which he was held 
 by others ; but his inward contentment, his holy 
 pride in his own worth, he need never lose. He 
 is raised above fate. It is not to the world he 
 owes his inward peace and happiness, and the 
 world cannot rob him of them. 
 
 But to whom am I saying this ? Who recog- 
 nizes the eternal truth of Jesus's words, " But 
 seek ye first the kingdom of God and his right- 
 eousness, and all these things shall be added unto 
 you"? (Matt. vi. 33.) O, they have eyes and 
 see not, they have ears and hear not ! The great 
 majority of men are absorbed in their earthly 
 needs, and have no conception of higher wants. 
 They believe in God, but bear no love to that 
 which is Divine ; they pray to God, but are the 
 slaves of their own passions. They honor virtue, 
 yet act viciously. They believe in immortality, 
 yet give themselves entirely up to this world. 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 173 
 
 They desire happiness, yet fly from it. They 
 cannot gainsay the truth, yet cling to the delu- 
 sions of their senses. They claim to be men, and 
 superior beings, yet are content to remain nothing 
 more than animals. They complain of the cruelty 
 of fate, yet will not raise themselves above it by 
 magnanimity of soul. They remain miserable, un- 
 happy, in conflict with everything that surrounds 
 them, and with themselves. They seek a means 
 of escape, and find it not. The voice of God is 
 loud in their hearts, yet they refuse to follow 
 it. They deserve their misery, for it is their 
 own choice. Therefore saith the Lord : " Your 
 thoughts are not my thoughts, neither are your 
 ways my ways. For as the heavens (and all spir- 
 itual things) are higher than the earth, (and all 
 that is earthly,) so are my ways higher than your 
 ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." 
 
 But to whom do I recall this ? To the nations ? 
 Ah ! behold their misery ! This misery is the 
 proof of their errors. How petty are the aims 
 of all, or at least the greater number of the indi- 
 viduals who constitute the nations ? What fruits 
 can we expect from such seed ? What concord 
 is there among them when the common danger is 
 past ? Where is their friendship when their self- 
 interest is touched ? Where is their patriotism 
 when their individual advantage is at stake ? 
 Where is their moderation in prosperity? Why 
 do they cherish in their own hearts that arrogance 
 which they dislike so much in others ? Why do 
 
174 ETERNAL DESTINY. 
 
 they complain of that pride in others which they 
 do not overcome in themselves ? Why do they 
 boast of the reverence they feel for the rights of 
 nations, and yet attack these whenever it can be 
 done without danger to themselves ? Why do 
 they praise honesty, and yet seek to overreach 
 others ? Ah ! they have witnessed the effects 
 of disunion, arrogance, and injustice ; they have 
 heard the warnings of universal history, but their 
 hearts are hardened. They had Moses and the 
 prophets, but they preferred to believe in their 
 own falsities and follies. In the hour of need 
 they raised aloft the banner of virtue to save 
 themselves from destruction, but when the dan- 
 ger was over they deserted the sacred banner to 
 prepare for themselves new misery. Thus let it 
 be. Your fate is sealed. You cannot escape your 
 destiny, for you have brought it upon yourselves. 
 " My thoughts are not your thoughts," saith the 
 Lord, " neither are my ways your ways ; but as 
 the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my 
 ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts 
 than yours." 
 
 Among thousands, however, there may per- 
 haps be one who recognizes God's thoughts and 
 ways in the decrees of destiny ; there may be one 
 to whom his inward being, the consciousness of 
 innocence, and the peace of God, are of more 
 value than all outward goods ; one who has given 
 himself entirely to Christ, who acknowledges him, 
 not in the performances of church ceremonies, but 
 
ETERNAL DESTINY. 175 
 
 in mmd and heart, in willing and acting, in self- 
 abnegation and self-control. All ! thou only one 
 among thousands, thou art the happiest, because 
 thee no destiny can assail. Thou art raised 
 above every earthly fate. 
 
 O, I also, I also will strive for this peace, will 
 seek to attain this height ! I will be thy brother, 
 Jesus ! Saviour ! Thou didst enjoy divine happi- 
 ness, though the world reviled thee. Thy perse- 
 cutors were seated upon thrones, and yet were 
 slaves of their brutal passions ; but thou wert a 
 prince of life, a conqueror of death, and the power 
 of destiny could not terrify thee. The cross on 
 Golgotha was thy trophy of victory ; the crown 
 of thorns was thy crown of triumph. 
 
 I will strive in spirit to reach thy elevation, 
 and the power of God will be mighty in me in 
 spite of my weakness. I will accomplish it, I 
 will be sole master of myself, I will control my 
 feelings and my tendencies, so that I allow my- 
 self nothing but what is right, true, and useful ; 
 so that I accept whatever the earth offers me that 
 is beautiful and good, but without forfeiting in 
 return my peace or the mastery over myself; so 
 that my inward freedom be not restrained by any 
 outward fetters ; so that I may be rich even in 
 poverty, and exalted even though of lowly es- 
 tate ; so that I may belong to thee, O Jesus, and 
 to all pure and noble spirits. I must, I will ac- 
 complish this ! O Spirit of God, strengthen my 
 determination ! Amen ! I shall succeed. Amen. 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 Let the song of victory sound, 
 
 Christ for us has won the day, 
 (Us, who to the grave were bound,) 
 
 And chased the night of death away. 
 Nobly hath the work been wrought, 
 And for us the victory bought. 
 
 With what a noontide brightness, Lord, 
 
 Are His promises displayed ; 
 How shines the truth of Heaven's word, 
 
 Man's soul is immortal made, 
 And before God's awful throne 
 Virtue shall receive the crown. 
 
 Sing not solemn dirges sadly 
 
 By the graves where good men lie ; 
 
 For their spirits, brother, gladly 
 Wander in infinity : 
 
 Christ for all hath victory gained, 
 
 And the tyrant, death, enchained. 
 
 (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.) 
 
 'ESUS CHRIST, our Lord, revealed to 
 us in his own life on earth, as in a mir- 
 ror, what we are, and what we ought to 
 be. I recognize in him what I ought to 
 be. From the hour of his birth in the humble 
 manger, until that of his glorification after his 
 descent into the tomb, his life was a solemn in- 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 177 
 
 dlcation of what the Deity wills that man should 
 be. In obscurity and lowliness he was born, 
 that we might learn that neither family descent 
 nor rank, neither riches nor pomp, invest man 
 with a nobility that has any worth in the sight of 
 God. He died poor ; a stranger lent the site for 
 the interment of his body, that we might learn 
 that our destination on earth is not to lay up vain 
 treasures and to attach ourselves to the things 
 that are seen, but to strive after those things which 
 are not seen. Nowhere do the Holy Scriptures 
 tell us, that in the course of his life Jesus advanced 
 in worldly honors and riches ; but they do tell us 
 that with years he increased in wisdom, and in 
 knowledge of things divine. His beneficent life- 
 task was to render men happy ; he came to re- 
 deem mortals from falsehood and sin, and his 
 spirit embraced in its love and mercy not only his 
 contemporaries, but all those who should be born 
 thousands of years after him. And he as little 
 neglected the least means of doing good as the 
 greatest. He healed the blind and the lame, and 
 succored the helpless. All this took place that 
 we might learn, that our task in life is not only to 
 attend to our business vocations, to take care that 
 our families increase in rank and riches, but to 
 grow perfect in every virtue, to improve in wis- 
 dom and in knowledge of God. For the good of 
 mankind he met death, died wholly resigned to 
 the will of God; his spirit rose above the most 
 
 8* L 
 
178 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 galling indignities, — above the severest mental 
 pangs which ingratitude and treachery could in- 
 flict, — above the most cruel physical sufferings, 
 when, exhausted by hunger, thirst, and ill-treat- 
 ment, he sank down bleeding on the way to Gol- 
 gotha ; or when, nailed to the cross and jeered 
 at by the multitude, he wrestled with death. But 
 glorious was his triumph beyond the tomb ; and 
 all this was in order that we might learn that 
 not earthly well-being, not the enjoyment of the 
 pleasures of this world, are the purposes of our 
 life ; that neither want nor suffering ought to 
 deaden in us our love of the Divine, but that, 
 whatever fate befall us, the eye of the spirit ought 
 to be directed towards eternity, where the palm 
 of victory and of glory awaits us when the death- 
 struggle is over. " For," say the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, " our light affliction, which is but for a 
 moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory. While we look not 
 at the things which are seen, but at the things 
 which are not seen ; for the things which are 
 seen are temporal, but the things which are not 
 seen are eternal." (2 Cor. iv. 17, 18.) 
 
 The day of victory of Him who has arisen from 
 the dead reminds me of my future day of vic- 
 tory, of my higher destination. 
 
 But what is the destination of man ? As yet 
 the idea is not quite clear to me. To many, I 
 know, the purpose of life is a riddle, and more 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 179 
 
 especially to those who look at the things which 
 are seen. Are we here that we may enjoy hap- 
 piness and well-being in connection with virtuous 
 sentiments ? ask many. But how few persons 
 enjoy unmixed happiness in a world where each 
 hour brings an alternation of pleasure and pain ; 
 where one moment we are called to share the 
 sorrows of others, the next we are made to groan 
 under physical suffering, or to yield up our dear- 
 est wishes ? Or how can the happiness that flows 
 from virtuous sentiments and acts be ours, when 
 each day we rise, like Peter, with the noblest 
 resolves, and yet end it with laments over our 
 own weakness ? 
 
 What is the purpose for which God called me 
 into being ? Am I born merely to be the play- 
 thing of an hour, to fill for unknown ends a brief 
 existence, extending only from the cradle to the 
 grave, or to serve the purposes of other beings to 
 me unknown, who may be amused at my mirth 
 or my tears ? Shall I sink down, and fade away 
 forever, in old age, like the flowers of the garden, 
 like the tree of the forest, like the lion in the 
 desert, or like an ephemeral insect ? How can I 
 reconcile such an idea as this with the conception 
 of the infinite perfection of God? Why do I 
 bear within me a lively consciousness of being in 
 myself an end, not a means, — a consciousness 
 which makes me feel that I exist for my own 
 sake, and that I am, as it were, a central point of 
 
180 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 the universe which I behold around me ? Why- 
 do I see before me high, aims to attain which 
 would be impossible in this short existence, while 
 other creatures have no more qualities than are 
 necessary to sustain their earthly life, to provide 
 themselves with food, and to avoid pain and 
 danger ? 
 
 Thus even our unaided reason points to con- 
 tradictions which would necessarily arise, were 
 we to suppose that our destination is comprised 
 within the narrow limits of this life. 
 
 But we know that man is spirit, and that the 
 body is ashes, and only a vestment and instrument 
 used by the spirit in this temporal existence, for 
 the enjoyment of what is earthly. The body, or 
 the animal envelope of our spirits, changes as 
 years accumulate on our heads ; the spirit in- 
 creases in knowledge, but nevertheless feels that 
 it is still the same that it has been since the first 
 awakening of consciousness. The body clings 
 tenaciously to the earth from which it came ; the 
 spirit never finds rest on earth, is never content 
 with what it has attained, but when one wish is 
 satisfied longs for the fulfilment of another, and 
 again another, and so on without end. 
 
 The spirit, therefore, is the most essential and 
 the enduring part of man ; that which is unseen 
 and eternal constitutes its life, not that which is 
 seen, or which is perishable ; its origin is divine, 
 it springs not from earth. And as the body will 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 181 
 
 one day return to its mother earth, so will the 
 spirit return to the Divine bosom whence it ema- 
 nated. 
 
 If my spirit be the essential part of me, then, 
 when I speak of the destination of man, the ques- 
 tion can only be as to the purpose for which his 
 spirit was created ; about the body there can be 
 no question. This is only a subordinate power 
 existing for the sake of the spirit. And, again, 
 if there be a question of the spirit, it can only be 
 as to its vocation during an infinitely prolonged 
 existence. But how can I know what ends the 
 Deity has in view for it after the hour- of death 
 in this world ? So far my eye does not reach. 
 And yet the voices of nature, of reason, and of 
 revelation proclaim with wonderful harmony what 
 I shall be hereafter, and what I am to hope for. 
 
 What is the lichen on the rock, the oak-tree 
 on the mountain-side, the eagle in the air, intend- 
 ed to be ? Nothing more or less than what they 
 are, and what alone they can be, in accordance 
 with the peculiar powers or forces implanted 
 in them by the Creator : moss, oak, and eagle ! 
 Thus also the spirit, which conceives of God, 
 shall become that which, in accordance with the 
 special powers implanted in it, it may, through 
 the infinite periods of its existence, raise itself to 
 be, viz. a being who through endless self-improve- 
 ment is ever drawing nearer to God ; an essence 
 higher than a thousand other subordinate forces 
 
182 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 that live and act in this world, and living and 
 acting independently of these, but understanding 
 them and governing them, and growing without 
 cessation in knowledge which will reveal to it the 
 greatness of God and the grandeur of creation, 
 in ever clearer and more enrapturing light. This 
 is the eternal, the all-important glory that awaits 
 us ; i. e. those among us who look, not at the 
 things which are seen, but at the things which 
 are not seen. This is the object of the vague 
 yearnings within our souls ; this is the meaning 
 of that commandment of the glorified Saviour, 
 wherein he disclosed the true destination of man, 
 " Be ye perfect, as your Father in heaven is per- 
 fect." (Matt. v. 48.) 
 
 To become like unto God is then my destina- 
 tion, — to let my spirit grow in the divine likeness 
 through infinite progression. The truth of this, 
 first revealed to me through Jesus, is confirmed 
 by my reason and by my experience of life on 
 earth. For even the things of this world all im- 
 pel me in that direction. All things encourage 
 the spirit to extend its mastery over that which is 
 merely sensual, and to hold this in contempt, — 
 to elevate itself above the chances of outward 
 circumstances and of fate. To do this is to grow 
 in likeness to God. For in wisdom and knowl- 
 edge, as in supreme happiness-diffusing influence 
 on the universe, and in perfect independence of 
 fate, God is infinitely great and exalted. Life on 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 183 
 
 earth is given to train the spirit for its sublime 
 destination ; but this training is not completed 
 here, but will continue without ceasing in far 
 distant spheres of life, while our happiness will 
 increase with our perfection. 
 
 All things stimulate the spirit to extend its 
 knowledge and wisdom. Even for this man is 
 born naked and defenceless, that he may exert 
 and develop his mind in efforts for his own suste- 
 nance and protection. The animal enters life ready 
 clothed, and provided with natural weapons of de- 
 fence, and with unconscious instincts to seek the 
 herbage, fruit, or carrion which it requires for its 
 nourishment, and which it finds at once. Thou- 
 sands of years have passed since the creation and 
 peopling of this globe. The animals have made 
 no progress in knowledge or wisdom. Not so 
 man, who is ever impelled forwards by the wants 
 and sufferings and cravings of his nature. At 
 first he lived in caverns, next in huts built of the 
 boughs of trees, then in well-contrived, comfort- 
 able, self-invented dwellings. At first his hands 
 and nails, next rude wooden and stone imple- 
 ments, were his only aids ; then he descended 
 into the bowels of the earth, and brought forth 
 thence the numerous metals which doubled his 
 strength, and helped him to subjugate the animals. 
 The tiger was then no longer too strong for him, 
 nor the fox too cunning, nor the eagle too far 
 above him in the air. At first he clung timidly 
 
184 THE DESTINATION OF MAN 
 
 to the spot of earth where he was born ; but soon 
 he roamed into other regions, learnt to communi- 
 cate his thoughts through means of artificial tones, 
 and acquired a knowledge of foreign languages ; 
 and next he crossed the wide ocean from one 
 quarter of the globe to another, and by means of 
 written symbols communed with friends dwelling 
 in far distant lands which his own foot had never 
 trodden. At first he trembled at the thunder of 
 the clouds, and gazed with vague wonder only at 
 the stars of heaven ; subsequently the idea of a 
 Deity took birth in him. He sought the Deity ; 
 but in the commencement worshipped him in the 
 thunder, the fire, and the stars. Then he began 
 to conceive that neither of these were God, but 
 only created things, and he prayed to the Unseen, 
 — until, when mankind had become capable of 
 receiving it, the full light was given through 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 And thus the human spirit, driven by the ne- 
 cessities of life, progressed without ceasing from 
 invention to invention, from knowledge to knowl- 
 edge. That which in the present day is known 
 to every youth, would, thousands of years ago, 
 have excited the wonder of the most experienced 
 sage. What will mankind be after another six 
 thousand years of progressive knowledge ? 
 
 Already we know the immeasurable magnitude 
 of the universe, the size and orbits of the heav- 
 enly bodies in closest proximity to us, the plains, 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 185 
 
 and mountains, and the light that clothes the 
 moon, the sun, and the distant planets ; the won- 
 derful powers of the atmosphere, of light and of 
 innumerable other works of nature. But God 
 the All-wise knows all, while the wisest of mor- 
 tals as yet knows only a drop in the ocean of the 
 universe. To grow like unto God is the desti- 
 nation of the spirit. 
 
 Towards this the whole organization of the 
 universe is impelling us. Everything incites us 
 to extend our dominion over the world of sense, 
 and tends to develop the consciousness of our 
 superior dignity as spirits, as feeble images of 
 God. The will of the spirit, and the desires and 
 instincts of the flesh, or of our sensual nature, are 
 in constant conflict. This is the twofold law with- 
 in us, of which Paul the Apostle speaks. In the 
 flesh originate all tendencies to sin, to pride, to 
 envy, to revenge, to luxury ; in the spirit origi- 
 nate our longings after holiness, our yearnings 
 for the divine, the unseen, and stable. In vain 
 the feeble spirit seeks contentment in the tempo- 
 ral ; it is ever repelled by the latter, and thrown 
 back upon itself. In vain the spirit, forgetting its 
 dignity and destination, seeks its happiness in the 
 gifts of this life. Beauty and strength perish ; 
 fame is overshadowed ; luxury creates disease ; 
 riches and earthly goods are ever changing hands, 
 and cannot follow us beyond the grave ; parents, 
 friends, husbands, wives, children, all die, none 
 
186 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 remain, nothing on earth can secure to us lasting 
 happiness. All things impel us to turn away from 
 the seen to the unseen ! 
 
 Sin is spiritual slavery, virtue spiritual freedom. 
 Sin is dominion of the flesh, virtue is dominion 
 of the spirit. In vain the spirit would forget that 
 it is free, and ought to govern the desires aris- 
 ing out of its earthly nature ; in vain it would be 
 at ease, and avoid exertions and conflicts, give 
 itself up to sensual well-being, and seek no higher 
 wisdom than to elude that which is disagreeable, 
 and to secure the enjoyment of that which is 
 exciting, pleasurable, and honorable in ordinary 
 social life ; in vain it resists the warnings of con- 
 science ; in spite of all, the entire order of the 
 universe, which is but a great school of spirits, 
 incites us again and again to reassert our domin- 
 ion over sensual influences, and to hold light all 
 that is of this earth. For every sin is followed 
 by its own peculiar punishment. Deceit is fol- 
 lowed by fear of detection, dissoluteness by pain- 
 ful diseases, intemperance by enervation. For 
 the spirit there is neither rest nor peace, until it 
 has conquered all the passions that war against it, 
 until it has learnt to be just, truthful, indepen- 
 dent of base prejudices and sensual desires, and 
 has found the highest bliss in the consciousness 
 of virtue. This is beino; like unto God. 
 
 For this purpose, the spirit is further impelled 
 by everything that surrounds it to look at all mat- 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 187 
 
 ters from a proper point of view, and to jud^e 
 and apply them accordingly ; every error of judg- 
 ment entails suffering. Towards this likeness to 
 God everything impels it until it is not only 
 raised above the enchantment of the senses, but 
 above the power of fate. The various fortunes 
 that befall men are but God's missionaries sent 
 to instruct and improve ; they are connected 
 with earthly matters only. When avalanches 
 fall, when nations are subjugated or liberated, 
 when flames devour houses and other property, 
 and war lays countries waste, when illness comes 
 upon us without any fault of our own, and friends 
 breathe their last in our arms, — all these events 
 affect us in our earthly connections only. The 
 more independent the spirit of the Christian is 
 of all earthly things, the more exalted he is above 
 the events connected with them. He may be rich 
 or poor, be living in superfluity or in want, may 
 meet with friendship or with persecution ; but in 
 none of these cases is there anything that can im- 
 pair his love of Christ, of virtue, and of the Deity. 
 The world can give him nothing which he is not 
 willing patiently to resign again. Life itself has 
 not more value in his eyes than duty. He fears 
 not death ; and he who fears not death, nor pov- 
 erty, nor the judgments of men, what power can 
 fate have over him ? He is a spirit like God ; he 
 bears his happiness, his highest good, within him- 
 self, and no fate can destroy it. Like unto a 
 
188 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 divinity lie stands above all the storms of life, 
 fearing them not in the consciousness of his inno- 
 cence and his righteousness. This is to be like 
 unto God ; this is the destination of man ! 
 
 And to this destination, which I am to reach 
 through endless progress, I ought, I can, and I 
 will draw nearer here on earth already. Jesus 
 walked the earth in human form, and endowed 
 with human qualities ; and yet he extended his 
 knowledge of divine things, and he conquered 
 his earthly desires, and rose above his fate. He 
 had friends ; he loved the tender-hearted disciple 
 that rested his head on his bosom ; nevertheless, 
 his soul did not cling exclusively and passionately 
 to individuals. " All men and women," said he, 
 " are my brothers and sisters." He was not in- 
 different to the good things of this world ; he was 
 present at the marriage-feast in Cana, and did not 
 refuse the costly ointment offered to him as a gift 
 by a pious, reverent, and grateful heart ; never- 
 theless, he renounced every sensual enjoyment 
 without a sigh ; often he had no place to lay his 
 head, and he made no effort to avoid death when 
 duty bade him give his life for the salvation of 
 sinners. But a day of victory awaits all godlike 
 spirits, and he was glorified beyond the grave. 
 
 If this be the destination of man, then woe is 
 me, for how often have I not forgotten it ! Woe 
 is the world, for what confusion of mind does there 
 not reign therein ! Can it be that nature, and 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 189 
 
 reason, and revelation have ceased to have a 
 meaning, and that Jesus, the Saviour, has not 
 risen from the dead ? For I see men busy about 
 all other matters, but not thinking of those things 
 which are not seen. They sacrifice pleasure, 
 health, and life for the attainment of other 
 things, but not to improve in spirit, to grow in 
 likeness to God. They pride themselves upon 
 their cleverness ; the one claims to excel the 
 other herein ; each is anxious to turn time and 
 circumstances cunningly to his own advantage ; 
 but who is there that aspires towards that mag- 
 nanimity of spirit that enables a man to rise above 
 fate, above time and circumstances, above hope 
 and fear? 
 
 Alas ! and when I look at the mass of the peo- 
 ple, what spiritual darkness do I behold ! A deep 
 yearning for divine things there is in all hearts ; 
 to all religion is something sacred, the eyes of all 
 are turned to heaven, all seek to penetrate the 
 mysterious depths of eternity; but what a mel- 
 ancholy idea they form of their destination, what 
 an unworthy conception of the Majesty of God. 
 They believe that they can purchase their rise in 
 the scale of beings with senseless prayers and 
 church ceremonies, while living as slaves of their 
 animal nature. Here on earth they would lead 
 a life of luxury, and for their fate in the next 
 world they would rely on the intercession of 
 saints, or on the merits of Jesus Christ. Thus, 
 
190 THE DESTINATION OF MAN 
 
 they think, they will obtain their glorification. 
 They would fain enjoy their heaven here below, 
 believing that their good deeds and their prayers 
 are quite worthy of a heavenly reward. They 
 do good merely for the sake of the recompense, 
 and avoid evil merely from fear of punishment. 
 Their conception of heaven is that of an ever- 
 enduring life of sensual enjoyment. And all 
 these errors are disseminated by the help of un- 
 principled persons, who allow themselves to be 
 called priests of the Almighty God, and teachers 
 of the doctrines of Jesus ; and magistrates see 
 the deplorable ignorance of the people, and look 
 on with indifference, neglecting their duty to in- 
 troduce better educational institutions, so that the 
 knowledge of Divine things might be spread even 
 among the humblest classes. Is it possible that 
 mankind has so completely forgotten its high 
 destination, that not even a vague and dream-like 
 remembrance of it survives ? Is not Christ risen, 
 who preached, " Be perfect, as your Father in 
 heaven is perfect !' ; But if we do not despair 
 of our destination, and have not lost our belief in 
 the truth of God, why do we live as though there 
 were no eternity ? Why do we form to ourselves 
 an image of the Highest Being, far less noble and 
 exalted than we would form of a human being 
 who was described to us as just, and incorrupti- 
 ble, and wise ? 
 
 Jesus, they honor thee with their lips, but their 
 
THE DESTINATION OF MAN 191 
 
 hearts are estranged from thee. They make 
 themselves preachers of thy holy word, not be- 
 cause they desire to follow thee, but in order to 
 secure to themselves the comforts of life ! They 
 make themselves dependent upon outward cir- 
 cumstances, upon narrow-minded prejudices, and 
 petty desires ; they, who as eternal spirits ought 
 to be exalted, as thou wert once, above the unal- 
 terable laws that rule all earthly matters ! Not 
 all do this it is true ! — Yet the number of thy 
 true confessors and followers is, alas ! but very 
 small. 
 
 Jesus, my divine example in life, in suffering, 
 and in death, I celebrate to-day in my heart the 
 festival of thy victory and glorification, — may it 
 be also the festival of the victory of my spirit over 
 all sensual influences. I recognize the purpose for 
 which I was created, and the thought of it fills 
 me with holy rapture. As thou earnest forth 
 from the grave, so will I come forth from my 
 errors, and enter into a higher spiritual life ; so 
 will I come forth from the slavery of my passions, 
 and enjoy liberty and mastery over myself. And 
 not content with doing this, I will endeavor to 
 awaken others also to a recognition of their ex- 
 alted destination ; I will strive to make my fellow- 
 men feel their sublime vocation ; I will praise thy 
 greatness, O Father in heaven, in my home, in 
 the circle of those with whom thou hast linked 
 me together here on earth ; and by my senti- 
 
192 THE DESTINATION OF MAN. 
 
 ments, words, and deeds I will endeavor to prove 
 and to make acceptable to all the truth, that amid 
 the things which we see is not our lasting home, 
 but amid the things which we do not see, in the 
 abodes of Eternity. That neither riches, nor 
 rank, nor fame, nor other fleeting goods of this 
 life, but self-improvement, growth in likeness to 
 God, ought to be the great object of every spirit, 
 in order that " we may be perfect, as our Father 
 in heaven is perfect." Amen. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 
 
 How shall I know myself for joy, the change how understand, 
 When God himself shall take me hence to his own better land 1 
 What different names the things will bear which once I deemed 
 
 Divine, 
 When in that bright-and blessed home God's glories round me shine. 
 
 As there is but one Lord of all, one God who reigns in heaven, 
 So unto all created things one life alone is given ; 
 And through creation's wide domain for death we find no place ; 
 The law of change prevails for all, — extinction none can trace : 
 I know my soul shall ever dwell, when freed from earthly stains, 
 Where in eternal majesty Christ, my Redeemer, reigns. 
 
 (Mark xvi. 1-14.) 
 
 H^HE festival of the Resurrection of 
 Jesus, after his death on the cross, 
 
 may be considered as also celebrated 
 by us in joyful commemoration of our 
 own immortality. His resurrection from the 
 grave reminds us of the great transformation 
 which our souls also shall one day undergo. The 
 soul is hot dust like the body, and never can be- 
 dust. As all the powers of the universe 
 
 come 
 
 created by the Almighty are eternally active, so 
 also will my spirit remain eternally active. Jesus, 
 our example in life, is also our example in death, 
 
 9 
 
 M 
 
194 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 and his resurrection is an indication of what we 
 have to expect after death. 
 
 There are three great ideas bearing upon the 
 most sacred interests of man, and compared with 
 which all others sink into utter insignificance ; 
 three ideas which the mind of man alone, of all 
 God's known creatures, can comprehend, and 
 which form the most sacred treasures of all 
 souls, — without which, indeed, man would cease 
 to be man. These are : the conception of an 
 all-ruling Deity, — the belief in the possibility 
 of drawing nearer to God by growing in per- 
 fection, — the hope in eternity. 
 
 He who treasures in his mind these three sa- 
 cred ideas, follows in the footsteps of Jesus ; he 
 is in the way of salvation ; he will ever enjoy that 
 peace of soul which is a foretaste of the heavenly 
 bliss that awaits us hereafter. 
 
 If the thought of the imperishable nature of the 
 soul and the infinite goodness of God were at all 
 times vividly present to men's minds, we should 
 witness less levity, less vanity, and less heartless- 
 ness, and we should experience less fear and awe 
 of death. 
 
 Therefore will I this day endeavor to fill my 
 mind with the glorious thought : There is a God, 
 and I am his work, and am forever indestructible ! 
 I will meditate upon my higher destination, upon 
 the more exalted existence which is in store for 
 me, and gladden myself with the hope which 
 
IMMORTALITY. 195 
 
 Jesus has given me, and which God himself has 
 implanted, not only in the heart of the Christian, 
 but in that of every human being that treads the 
 earth. 
 
 I am born for eternity. Christ has given me 
 the assurance thereof. A day will come when I 
 shall no longer belong to this, but to another 
 world, in which I shall enjoy a higher or a lower 
 degree of happiness, according as my soul has 
 prepared itself in this earthly life for the future 
 existence. (John v. 28 ; 2 Cor. v. 10.) 
 
 I am called to eternal life. This body, in 
 which I am now clothed, has been borrowed 
 from the earth, and will return to earth. But 
 that which is incorruptible cannot perish, cries 
 a voice to me from the Holy Scriptures. My 
 spirit will enter into new relations, and clad, as 
 it were, in nobler raiment, it will be susceptible 
 of nobler enjoyments. It is in vain for us to 
 search into, and ponder upon, what may be the 
 real nature of these wonderful changes. It is 
 folly to wish to have a knowledge of the state 
 of the soul after death. Can human weakness 
 penetrate the secrets of the Infinite Power? 
 Can human blindness scan the nameless depths of 
 Infinite Wisdom ? How could that be made clear 
 to us for which human language has no words, 
 and for which the things of this earth offer no 
 analogy ? Even St. Paul deprecated such vain 
 endeavors of inquisitive minds, and to explain that 
 
196 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 which takes place after death he has but obscure 
 images. (1 Cor. xv. 35, 44.) 
 
 Let it be enough for every Christian that he 
 has acquired the tranquillizing conviction that a 
 life awaits him which from the beginning of time 
 was pre-ordained for him. There God will wipe 
 away all tears from our eyes, and there shall be 
 no more death, neither sorrow nor weeping, 
 neither shall there be any more pain ; for the 
 former things are passed away. (Rev. xxi. 4.) 
 
 Only a few minutes before his death, Jesus, the 
 Saviour of the world, gave the sweet hope of im- 
 mortality to the criminal crucified by his side. 
 With dying voice Jesus said, " To-day thou shalt 
 be with me in Paradise. " 
 
 God revealed to all mortals alike the eternal 
 and imperishable nature of the human spirit. All 
 nations of the earth believe in the continued ex- 
 istence of their souls after death, though the one 
 people has not received the blessed intelligence 
 from the other. But the Deity has so organized 
 the laws of human reason, that as soon as the 
 mind has acquired a certain power of thought, it 
 is spontaneously impelled to believe in the infinite 
 future that awaits it. 
 
 All religions, therefore, hold out this consolation, 
 and even the heathen, when weeping over the 
 corpse of one he loves, does not fail to lift his 
 tearful eyes to the home beyond the grave. This 
 universal agreement, this universal belief, is God's 
 voice within us ! 
 
IMMORTALITY. 197 
 
 How, indeed, should the abhorrent thought of 
 eternal annihilation enter the mind of man, when 
 all nature, the entire creation of God, bears wit- 
 ness to the contrary ? Nothing that is in the 
 world can ever be lost out of it. The grain of 
 dust which you trample under foot was once part 
 of a rock. The rock has ceased to exist, but its 
 constituent parts are still present. And if the 
 most insignificant of things endures forever, 
 though in time it may undergo a thousand 
 changes of condition and combination, can we 
 believe that the noblest and most exalted of cre- 
 ated beings known to us, the spirit of man, should 
 be an exception ? When we see that the grain 
 of dust will remain in the universe as long as the 
 universe itself endures, can we believe that the 
 soul of man, which alone can conceive of God 
 and immortality, will last but for a few brief 
 moments ? 
 
 Two things are recognized in the domain of 
 creation, ever distinct from each other, viz. dead 
 matter, and certain hidden forces which unite and 
 vivify the particles of that matter. These flowers, 
 which owe nothing to the tending hand of man, 
 spring from the earth. The plant, it is true, 
 draws nourishment from water, earth, air, and 
 light, but not every particle of earth or every 
 ray of light becomes a plant. There is a secret 
 power present, which causes the grass to be grass, 
 and the oak to be an oak, and nothing else. This 
 
198 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 secret power, which may, so to say, be regarded 
 as the soul of the plants, knows how to draw 
 towards each the nourishment most suited for it. 
 Through means of this invisible, inexplicable 
 power, the flowers have become flowers. 
 
 What sayest thou now, Is it the dead sub- 
 stances which, in combining, generate a myste- 
 rious force ? or is it the secret kingdom of the 
 forces that play with the dead matter, and give it 
 manifold forms, life, movement, and enjoyment ? 
 If dead matter cannot disappear from the uni- 
 verse, thinkest thou that the forces, the higher 
 and nobler elements, can cease to exist ? When 
 the plant is abandoned by its indwelling force, 
 and it withers and returns to dust, has the power 
 that once vivified it vanished from the universe ? 
 Nay, thou dost not perceive it, but it is still active 
 under other conditions. 
 
 The same is the case as regards the human 
 spirit, which is an infinitely higher and more won- 
 derful power, so much so, indeed, that none of the 
 other forces with which we are acquainted can be 
 compared with it. And who can be unreasonable 
 enough to believe that our bodies, composed of 
 earthly matter, have produced the spirits within 
 them, — that when the body returns to dust, the 
 spirit must also perish ? Is it not the spirit that 
 takes care of, nourishes, and protects the body ; 
 that directs its movements, and arbitrarily uses it 
 as its instrument ? 
 
IMMORTALITY. 199 
 
 Verily those only can be insane enough to 
 doubt immortality, who feel that their lives have 
 not been such as to deserve it, or who have reason 
 to fear it. But they endeavor in vain to delude 
 themselves, to destroy their own reason ! A voice 
 within them cries aloud, Thy soul cannot perish ! 
 It must continue to exist, and must appear before 
 the judgment-seat ! Sinner, sinner, there is a 
 God; and as true as there is a God, thou art 
 immortal, and thy deeds will follow thee into 
 eternity. 
 
 The human soul, that spark from the infinite 
 ocean of divine light, that sublime power, which 
 holds dominion over plants, minerals, and animals, 
 which can raise itself to heaven, which calculates 
 the movements of the spheres, and which, through 
 an inward revelation, has become conscious of its 
 divine origin, — this spirit, whose thoughts fly 
 across mountains and seas, and penetrate to the 
 throne of the Almighty, this spirit is a self-de- 
 pendent essence. It exists for itself, and for 
 naught else, nor as part of anything. It cre- 
 ates, as it were, a little world for itself. It is 
 connected with the rest of creation through its 
 senses only, while observing the many changes 
 that take place round it, and developing new 
 power through them. If the human spirit were 
 not created for itself alone, if it existed for the 
 sake of other things, it would lose its value and 
 cease to be, as soon as these other things, of which 
 
200 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 it formed a part, disappeared. The spirit does 
 not exist on account of the body, on account of 
 the dust vivified by it, on account of this mere 
 instrument, but the body exists on account of the 
 spirit. It is the animating and guiding principle 
 of the body. 
 
 And the spirit's wonderful consciousness of its 
 self-dependence, the firm conviction which it 
 possesses that its exists for its own sake solely, 
 and not as part of other things, is the divine 
 guaranty of its immortality. In like manner 
 the most exalted of spirits, the Deity, the Crea- 
 tor, is not a part of the universe, is not part of 
 aught else, but is self-existent and eternal. Yea, 
 he who doubts the immortality of his own soul, 
 may also, in such moments of fearful mental aber- 
 ration, doubt thy existence, O God ! 
 
 If we observe the unreasoning brutes, with their 
 blind instincts and their capabilities, we perceive 
 that all the powers with which the Creator has 
 so wonderfully endowed them are necessary for, 
 and conducive to, the support of life, and the 
 attainment of such objects as they may have in 
 life. 
 
 Now, were the human spirit created merely for 
 this fleeting life on earth, it would not have re- 
 quired the many and superior faculties which the 
 hand of God has bestowed on it. Had it received, 
 like the rest of the animals, blind instincts to 
 guide it, these would have sufficed in its case also 
 
IMMORTALITY. 201 
 
 to provide nourishment and support for the body- 
 it animates. 
 
 But of what use are the glorious faculties of 
 our minds? Why are we, by a wonderful con- 
 catenation of circumstances, forced into improving 
 these faculties ? Why should we possess a knowl- 
 edge of God, if this God, before whose throne our 
 spirits worship, is not our eternal Father ? Why 
 did the hand of the All-merciful God implant in 
 our hearts this undying yearning for continuous 
 life, if it were meant never to be satisfied ? Were 
 the immortality of the soul a delusion, would not 
 man, with his superior knowledge and qualities, be 
 far more to be pitied than the humblest of animals ? 
 The latter knows not of death ; it takes no care 
 for the coming hour. Why has God, the All-wise, 
 endowed us with the faculty of anticipating the 
 future ? Sceptic, wouldst thou dare to utter the 
 blasphemous answer, " That we may be the more 
 unhappy " ? Are we then to suppose that God 
 has gloriously manifested his wisdom in stones, 
 in plants, and in animals ; but that in man he 
 has failed utterly ? The animals attain, through 
 means of their inferior capabilities, as great con- 
 tentment, and as high a degree of perfection, as 
 their nature is capable of; but man, with his far 
 higher faculties, does not attain to anything ap- 
 proaching the perfection of which his nature is 
 susceptible. This life, therefore, does not suffice 
 
 for the fulfilment and attainment of our destina- 
 9* 
 
202 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 tion. We bear within us the germ of a perfection 
 of infinite growth, and therefore infinitude must 
 have been a condition of our creation, or the 
 world is a chaos, and the wisdom of God is at 
 variance with itself, — a thought that none but a 
 madman can entertain. 
 
 Thou believest in a God, and yet, O rash and 
 insensate man ! thou wouldst in thy aberration 
 deny the manifestations of Ins wisdom in the won- 
 derfully organized universe. Every star, every 
 blade of grass, thine own conscience, all the 
 events of thy life, all the nations of the earth, 
 proclaim it in a thousand tongues, He is ! He is ! 
 
 And if there be a God, and he be an all-perfect 
 and all-holy Being, how durst thou doubt his jus- 
 tice ? He who does not believe in the immortal- 
 ity of the soul, and in a retributive justice dwelling 
 above the stars, he believes in an imperfect God, 
 he believes that man's mind conceives a higher 
 justice than the acts of the Most Holy One mani- 
 fest. 
 
 For how can it be reconciled with Divine justice, 
 that excellent men and women, that pious Chris- 
 tians, who have suffered the direst misfortunes on 
 earth for the sake of virtue, and without any fault 
 of their own, should suffer thus, if there were no 
 future compensation of supreme bliss for what 
 they have here endured ; that bad men, that 
 heartless tyrants, should spend their days amid 
 pomp and pleasure, and be allowed unpunished 
 
IMMORTALITY. 203 
 
 to inflict upon their innocent fellow-men, upon 
 individuals, families, and whole nations, intolerable 
 evils and misfortunes ? If there be no supreme 
 judge and no retributive justice in the universe, 
 what mortal here on earth would venture to fol- 
 low the dictates of virtue ? 
 
 True, it is said that virtue is its own reward, 
 — alas ! not always. How many have not sac- 
 rificed every joy of life for righteousness' sake, 
 and died under great suffering, faithful to the last 
 to the divine laws ! No ; it is as little an unfailing 
 rule on earth that virtue brings its own reward, as 
 it is that vice always bring its own punishment. 
 But patient Christians, as well as shameless sin- 
 ners, have an intuitive belief in another world, 
 and that eternal retribution dwells above the 
 stars ! 
 
 Yea, above the stars dwells the eternal Judge, 
 meting out retributive justice. Weep not, suffer- 
 ing friend of virtue ; despair not, persecuted and 
 forsaken innocence ; the day of thy triumph will 
 come. Bear thy cross courageously to the grave, 
 as did Jesus ; like him, thou shalt live eternally* 
 
 We are immortal ! not forever shall we be the 
 prey of death. O, ye poor orphans, why do you 
 lament so disconsolately by the grave of your 
 father, your mother ? O father ! O mother ! why 
 pine so at the death of your child? It has but 
 preceded you into a better world. You are im- 
 mortal, and you will find your lost treasure again, 
 
204 IMMORTALITY. 
 
 — God has willed it so. Your fate in regard to 
 this was eternally pre-ordained when the plan of 
 the world was laid. God will also call you away ; 
 you will one day be happy in the blessed regions, 
 while others will be weeping for you on earth. 
 
 We are immortal ! — Sinner, well mayst thou 
 turn pale ! The soul of that man, too, is immor- 
 tal whom thou didst persecute w T ith thy hatred 
 and thy slanderous tongue ; immortal is also the 
 starving wretch whom thou didst refuse to help, 
 that thou mightest have the more to spend on 
 thine own luxuries ; immortal the soul of the in- 
 nocent girl seduced by thee, and thus robbed by 
 thee of her every joy in life ; and immortal, like 
 thine own, O proud man ! is the soul of thy fel- 
 low-man whom thou trample st under foot as thou 
 dost the worm in the dust. 
 
 We are immortal ! — O Christian, O meek fol- 
 lower of Jesus, the souls of those also are immor- 
 tal on whom thou hast bestowed thy good gifts. 
 They will bear witness in thy favor before God. 
 The tears which thou hast wiped from the eyes 
 of sufferers will be transmuted into happiness for 
 thee. The children whom with pious heart thou 
 art educating for eternity will never be torn 
 away from thee. They will be hereafter as they 
 are here, the souls most closely akin to thine own. 
 
 We are immortal ! God, my God ! nameless, 
 merciful, wise, and just God, in this hope is com- 
 prised all my earthly happiness. In thy world 
 
IMMORTALITY. 205 
 
 there is no death, only life ! And that which we 
 call death is only transformation. Thy entire 
 universe is life. Thou thyself art Life ! How, 
 then, could I be in thee, and cease to exist ? 
 Thou hast not called me into existence for this 
 short dream of life on earth, — thou chosest me 
 for eternity, and Jesus who has risen from the 
 dead shows me in his holy teachings the way to 
 reach it. (Col. hi. 2.) 
 
 O what inexpressible joy takes possession of 
 my soul ! what rapture quickens the pulsations of 
 my heart, at the thought of eternal existence ! 
 Sorrows of life, hours of suffering, what are ye ? — 
 passing shadows that leave no trace behind them. 
 Warnings from God to follow the holy teachings 
 of Christ. Warnings from my Heavenly Father 
 to remind me that I am called to eternal life. 
 
 O my Father, I will cling closely to thee ! 
 Through thy will I am immortal, and penetrated 
 by thy Holy Spirit, I will endeavor to make my- 
 self worthy of immortality. I will throw off my 
 faults like defiling dust ; I will devote myself to 
 God ; for I am immortal. With longing heart I 
 strive to raise myself up to thee, O eternal 
 Father ! Receive me and mine into thy glory ! 
 Amen. 
 
WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE BE 
 HIDDEN FROM US? 
 
 Yes, I believe ; but clothed in dust, 
 How weak is still the strongest trust, 
 How oft my wavering faith hath failed, 
 And wished its hope to sight revealed J 
 
 For me, thou Life by which I live, 
 let thy Spirit witness give ; 
 Death is not death, — 't is leaving earth, 
 For nature's second, nobler birth. 
 
 When once this transient life shall fail, 
 Thy hand shall draw away the veil, — 
 The veil that dims to mortal eye 
 The vision of eternity. 
 
 (2 Cor. v. 7.) 
 
 OW often, when meditating on the 
 future destiny of the soul, do not 
 mortals say, " If we but knew how 
 we shall fare in that future life ! If 
 we had but some slight indication of what will be 
 the state of the spirit after the death of the body ! 
 If we had but some little knowledge of the abode 
 into which the spirit will pass, some shadowy 
 insight into its destination there, some faint pre- 
 figurement of its joys and sorrows in eternity ! " 
 
FUTURE LIFE HIDDEN FROM US. 207 
 
 Such wishes and questionings are pardonable. 
 They do not, however, so much manifest the 
 soul's noble longing for knowledge as they betray 
 common curiosity and impatience. For the de- 
 sire for knowledge will easily be satisfied with the 
 conviction that the day will infallibly come when 
 we shall know and experience it all, and that it 
 will come as soon as it is good for us. But curi- 
 osity will not rest content with this ; it wishes for 
 knowledge merely to satisfy its craving ; it is like 
 the inquisitive child, who, though certain that at a 
 given time it will receive a gift from its tender 
 parents, yet uselessly endeavors before the time 
 comes to divine what the gift will be. 
 
 Therefore human folly has ever been busy 
 endeavoring to discover by subtle investigation 
 the secrets of eternity. Therefore there have 
 come into existence as many notions and fancies 
 regarding the future life as there have been per- 
 sons who have allowed their imaginations free 
 play respecting the subject. Among the Jews 
 as among the Turks, among the heathens as 
 among the Christians, the most contradictory 
 ideas prevail about the state of our immortal 
 spirits after death, — ideas which are often highly 
 unworthy of the greatness and majesty of God. 
 
 Some believe that in the next world the soul 
 will live in a state of sensual bliss, in the midst 
 of lovely groves and gardens, where are spread 
 richly-decked boards, at which they may feast 
 
208 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 whenever they please. Others believe that the 
 soul sleeps in the grave until the great day of 
 judgment shall come, when the dead shall arise 
 and stand forth to receive their reward. Otl: - . 
 in, believe that, until the last day of the 
 world, the - als wander about partly under 
 
 the earth, partly near the entrance to hell, partly 
 in the air. partly in the vicinity of heaven ; and 
 that thev have the power to reveal themselve- - 
 living men at certain times, particularly during 
 the night, in the form of ghosts, and thus to cre- 
 ate ten no reason or purpose. Otl: 
 a^ain. think that the spirits of the departed roam 
 about in some paradise, where their greatest hap- 
 pinr ss nsists in remembering and recounting the 
 deeds performed by them in their former exist- 
 ence. Others teach that before the soul is admit- 
 ted into paradise, or the place of eternal joy. it 
 must undergo a period of probation, during which 
 ill be cleansed of all the earthly - and 
 cares and impurities that may still cling * 
 order that it may ultimately enjoy unmixed I 
 
 En vain, however, has human cur en- 
 
 deavored to force open the gates of eternity, in 
 order to discover that which lies beyond. It has 
 never succeeded. The darkness in which God 
 wrapped the land of the future remains im- 
 penetrable : and of the dead, not one has 
 come back to unveil to inquisitive man the 
 of the world of spin:- 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM US? 209 
 
 Foolish speculations on this subject have never 
 led to any useful or beneficent result. Men have 
 tortured themselves with their own dreams. They 
 have created for themselves terrific images, which 
 have no existence except in their own heated 
 brains. They have peopled their imaginations 
 with ghosts, or supposed visible spirits, which in 
 their timidity they fancy they see and hear every- 
 where. They have spread, in consequence, not 
 the realm of wisdom, but the realm of supersti- 
 tion ; not the kingdom of God, but the kingdom 
 of error and of heathenish fables. They have 
 been less intent upon becoming like unto Jesus 
 in feeling and actions, than upon disputations 
 about their fancies and opinions. They have 
 hoped more from long and formal prayers, from 
 sacrifices and outward discipline, from fastings 
 and purifications, than from following the example 
 of Jesus in virtuous sentiments and works of 
 love. Finally, they have placed the value and 
 nee of Christianity more in certain dogmas 
 and in faith, than in doing those things that are 
 pleasing to God, as they are enjoined to do by 
 Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount, and by the 
 Apostles in all their speeches and epistles. In 
 vain St. James cries to them, " What doth it 
 profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath 
 faith, and have not works ? Can faith save him ? " 
 In vain thou criest to them, O Jesus Christ, u Not 
 every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall 
 
 N 
 
210 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that 
 doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven." 
 They persist in their melancholy conceit ; super- 
 stitious ceremonies, formal prayers, outward relig- 
 ious observances are to them more than the call 
 of Jesus, more than the warning love of Christ. 
 
 Let me then sedulously avoid all mere curiosity 
 on this solemn subject ; let me shun all notions 
 and suppositions as to the state of departed souls, 
 which may induce superstitious and irrational 
 fears, and lead me to have recourse to unmeaning 
 ceremonies. On earth there is for me but one 
 great Revealer of divine and heavenly things, 
 and this is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the 
 Saviour of the world. He alone is my light, my 
 loadstar in the darkness ; and all else that human 
 beings, be they ever so wise and holy, would re- 
 veal to me concerning eternal life, is only human 
 conceptions, only their special views. 
 
 But Jesus, who dwelleth ever in eternity, who 
 was there hi the beginning, and will be there ever- 
 more, — Jesus has assured me that my soul is 
 immortal ; yet he shed no light upon its state in 
 the next life. He taught us that the soul of man, 
 after its liberation from the body, would be re- 
 moved into a higher and happier sphere, which 
 God had prepared for it from the beginning ; 
 therefore he said to his companion on the cross, 
 " To-day thou shalt be with me in paradise." He 
 taught that our spirits must prepare here on earth 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM USf 211 
 
 for eternity ; that here already they belong to 
 the great kingdom of God ; that this kingdom of 
 God does not consist in ontward signs, but is 
 within us, in the virtuous and perfect mind. 
 " The kingdom of God," said he, " is within 
 you." (Luke xvii. 21.) He taught that accord- 
 ing as each mortal in this life makes himself 
 worthy of higher perfection and of a more bliss- 
 ful state, so will it be meted out to him hereafter. 
 There every one will be judged by his words, 
 his thoughts, and his deeds, and receive the re- 
 ward he merits. (Matt. xxv. 34 - 46.) 
 
 With these explanations as to what we have to 
 look forward to in eternity, the disciples of Christ 
 must be satisfied. They know the value of eter- 
 nal life, and to them the promises concerning it 
 must bring joy. Here, on earth, " we walk by 
 faith, not by sight ! " 
 
 And why should I not be satisfied with the 
 revelations given in the Holy Scriptures ? Why 
 should not that which Jesus has promised be suf- 
 ficient to tranquillize me ? Why should I rather 
 listen to the promptings of my restless curiosity, 
 than to the wisdom of my Divine Redeemer and 
 Comforter ? 
 
 Had the Deity thought it good for mankind that 
 we should be able to look into eternity, and to 
 penetrate its secrets, the power of doing so would 
 have been bestowed upon us. But the Omniscient 
 would not that it should be so ; and we may there- 
 
212 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 fore conclude that the faculty of following the 
 spirits along their path in eternity would not be 
 conducive to our happiness and well-being. It is 
 withheld from us until the important hour when 
 we shall ourselves become denizens of eternity. 
 
 Thy inquisitive desire to solve the mysteries 
 of the future world is therefore culpable, is un- 
 worthy of thy profession as a Christian, proves a 
 want of trust in the wisdom and fatherly love of 
 God. Be assured, that the knowledge of that 
 which the Lord conceals from thee would render 
 thee unhappy. Are there not in like manner 
 many tilings which mortal parents conceal from 
 their children in infancy, but which are communi- 
 cated to them when they reach a riper age ? 
 Too early a disclosure of these matters might be 
 injurious to the welfare of the entire family, or be 
 hurtful to the children themselves. Who would 
 blame the wisdom and prudence of these anxious 
 parents, who in this very withholding of knowl- 
 edge give a proof of their affection for their chil- 
 dren ? Will not the child himself in later years 
 thank his parents for their reticence ? 
 
 And the same is the case with man in regard 
 to God ! We also shall one day, when death 
 breaks the dark seal of the mystery, recognize the 
 wisdom of the all-loving Father, and stammer 
 forth our thanks. We also shall smile at the fu- 
 tility of our endeavors, at the childishness of our 
 fancies, respecting the eternal future. We also 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM US? 213 
 
 shall then repent with justice of our want of trust 
 in the Eternal Wisdom and Mercy. 
 
 However incapable we may be, while dwelling 
 here in the dust, and with our limited faculties, of 
 understanding the councils and the exalted ends 
 of the Most High, it is much easier for us to 
 divine why the hand of God has veiled to our 
 eyes the face of eternity, than it is to lift this veil, 
 even in the least degree. 
 
 The less we know with certainty that which 
 awaits us after this life, the purer, the more un- 
 selfish, will our virtue be on earth. 
 
 What is Christian virtue ? Wherein consists 
 the holiness which Jesus demands of us ? In self- 
 improvement, self-bestowed blessedness. Chris- 
 tian duty, as Christ understood it, must have no 
 other end than itself ; it must not be a means to 
 secure this or that advantage ; it must not be a 
 mere measure of prudence. 
 
 What value is there in that virtue which makes 
 me give alms to the poor, in order that I may 
 gain honor among men, — which makes me avoid 
 enmities in order that my life may be more easy, — 
 which leads me to afford help, that I may be 
 helped in my turn, — that induces me to perform 
 acts of public utility, that I may win popularity, — 
 that makes me act honestly in order to gain con- 
 fidence, — that makes me amiable in manner in 
 order that I may be praised, — that makes me 
 show friendship to those who may show me friend- 
 
214 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 ship in return? Is tins virtue, as Jesus under- 
 stood it ? Nay, it is but prudence ! It is a cal- 
 culation how to gain great advantages by means 
 of small sacrifices. " For if ye love them which 
 love you, what reward have ye ? And if ye 
 salute your brethren only, what do you more than 
 others?" No; "ye must be perfect, as your 
 Father in heaven is perfect " ; that is to say, your 
 goodness must be without selfishness, you must 
 not debase your virtue into a mere measure of 
 prudent calculation, you must expect no higher 
 reward than is comprised in that virtue itself. 
 
 He who does not love it for its own sake, O 
 he can never have known it ! A child who is 
 only obedient when he is promised a reward, is 
 not a wise or good child, but a calculating and 
 selfish one. 
 
 God is perfect, because he is God, and in his 
 own perfection he finds the highest bliss. God is 
 perfect not in order to gain outward advantages ; 
 and he is merciful, gracious, and beneficent, not in 
 order that weak man, a poor worm in the dust, 
 should worship him. And in this spirit Jesus tells 
 us to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect. 
 
 We are to improve ourselves, to become holy 
 through the practice of every virtue, not in order 
 to receive some other reward, but because in this 
 improvement and sanctification is comprised the 
 happiness of the spirit. The most virtuous and 
 the wisest man is the happiest, simply because he 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM US? 215 
 
 is the most perfect. That which he was here 
 below, that his spirit will remain on entering 
 eternity; and his reward in that better life is, 
 that he is allowed ever to approach nearer to the 
 Divine perfection, ever to grow in likeness to 
 God. 
 
 If any one avoid evil from fear of punishment, 
 he is prudent, but not virtuous. If any one re- 
 frain from stealing from fear of chains and prison, 
 shall we therefore call him pious ? Who can 
 assure me that he would not steal if there were 
 no chains, no prison ? If any one refrain from 
 sin through fear of hell, is he therefore righteous ? 
 Or, when any one does good in this life in the 
 hope that he will be richly rewarded in the next, 
 is he therefore a saint, in the spirit of Jesus ? 
 If he had no hope, or only a vacillating hope of 
 future reward, would he act equally well ? And 
 if not, is his selfish virtue other than a well- 
 calculated means to purchase a great good for a 
 small outlay ; to gain, at the price of a small sac- 
 rifice of a few minutes' duration, an eternity of 
 bliss ? 
 
 Nay, it is a beneficent arrangement that earth- 
 ly eyes should not be able to penetrate eternity. 
 Our virtue on earth is thereby rendered so much 
 the more pure and unselfish, because, ignorant 
 as to what is to follow, we are thrown entirely 
 upon ourselves. 
 
 But suppose a revelation of the future world 
 
216 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 should be made to us, should we be able to com- 
 prehend it? How is it possible that, bound in 
 the fetters of earth as we are, and with faculties 
 proportionately limited, we should have the power 
 of comprehending the supernatural? How can 
 the sensual embrace the spiritual ? All descrip- 
 tions would be insufficient to enlighten us, because 
 we lack means of comparison. 
 
 If a traveller from our part of the globe visited 
 the savages of the Pacific, and attemped to de- 
 scribe to them the comforts of life and the mental 
 superiority enjoyed by man in our regions, how 
 would he make himself understood, as no con- 
 ception of the kind exists in the mind of the 
 savage ? If a man blessed with sight were to 
 describe to a man born blind the beauties of a 
 landscape, the sublime forms of the lofty moun- 
 tains at the foot of which roll majestic streams, 
 and around whose summits are gathered clouds 
 glowing in the golden rays of the setting sun, 
 in what words would he represent to the blind 
 man, who knows not what light is, the wonderful 
 beauties of creation ? The blind man would re- 
 main, as before, hi darkness, without the power 
 of comprehending what the other attempted to 
 convey to him ; but greater sadness would take 
 possession of him at the thought that he was ex- 
 cluded from so much happiness that fell to the 
 share of others. 
 
 Well, then, what are we mortals more than 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM USf 217 
 
 persons born blind as regards the glories of the 
 future existence that awaits us ? Those glories 
 can only be seen by earth-freed spirits, and were 
 one of these to appear to us, and to describe the 
 greatness, the goodness, the majesty of the Crea- 
 tor, as they are manifested in those blessed 
 realms, and the condition of the souls that have 
 thrown off the bonds of flesh, should we be able 
 to comprehend what he told us ? Shoidd we not 
 be overwhelmed with sadness at the thought that 
 other creatures of God were so infinitely more per- 
 fect and more blessed than we ? Should we not 
 think the joys which God has bestowed upon us 
 here below very insignificant in comparison with 
 those he has in store for us ? O, let us rest as- 
 sured that it was with a wise hand that the Eter- 
 nal God veiled the glories of eternity from the 
 eyes of those who, being here on earth, cannot 
 yet be allowed to partake of them ; for to behold 
 them would but make us less happy than we are 
 now, when the joys that we do feel are the great- 
 est that we know. 
 
 Were we allowed to have a glimpse of the bliss 
 of future worlds, our impatience to attain it would 
 imbitter our life upon earth. How soon and how 
 easily may not the barriers of life be overleapt ! 
 How many thousand sufferers would not in mo- 
 ments of impatience, forgetful of their duties, 
 determine to leave this world ! 
 
 But it is God's will that we should work out 
 10 
 
2 i 8 WHY MUST THE FUTURE LIFE 
 
 our destination on earth, as far as it is to be ful- 
 filled here; that we should not voluntarily and 
 capriciously put an end to our earthly career, but 
 that we should pursue it to its furthest goal. 
 
 Therefore, he placed as guardians before the 
 closed gates of eternity, fear and anxious doubt, 
 and the awful stillness of death, and impenetrable 
 darkness. 
 
 These guardians drive back the human race, 
 that it may pursue to the end its appointed path 
 on earth. 
 
 In spite of all the discomforts of life, in spite 
 of our impatient longing to be reunited with the 
 friends who have gone before us to our eternal 
 home, the terrors that surround the portals of 
 eternity repel us, and we continue our earthly 
 journey with calmer spirits. 
 
 Were it not for that darkness and terror, 
 should we not be like wearied mariners, who, 
 after a long voyage on the stormy seas, behold at 
 a short distance the shores of their beloved coun- 
 try? They see the calm and secure haven, 
 where wind and tempest no longer threaten de- 
 struction ; they already discover the verdant trees 
 and the peaceful cottages ; their hearts yearn 
 towards their homes ; their eyes are suffused 
 with tears of mingled joy and sadness at the 
 long-missed sight. They tremble. Every min- 
 ute before they reach the shore seems a year. 
 Ah! they recognize already their wives, their 
 
BE HIDDEN FROM US? 219 
 
 brothers, their parents, their children, their be- 
 loved maidens waiting for them there. They 
 see their arms opened to receive them, and hear 
 from afar the longing cries of affection. What 
 prevents them from flying at once into those 
 arms, to weep out then joy on those bosoms, 
 in which the heart beats so tenderly for them ? 
 44 O home ! O joy ! which we have so long 
 missed ! " all exclaim. They forget the helm 
 of the ship, the waves of the sea, the rocks, the 
 surf around them ; they forget the treasures 
 which they have gathered together on the long 
 and wearisome voyage, — they throw themselves 
 into the sea, to reach the sooner the shores of 
 their home. 
 
 Such would be the lot of mortals, did not the 
 dark ocean separate them, for their own good, 
 from their heavenly home. 
 
 But not forever, O my God ! does it separate 
 me from the dearly beloved beings who are await- 
 ing me there ! I shall one day behold these 
 shores of my better fatherland ; I shall at length 
 see them again, those loved ones, to whom my 
 heart clings so tenderly ; and shall rest among 
 them after the dangers and hardships that I have 
 undergone on my voyage across the stormy waters 
 of life. 
 
 Yes ; be comforted, O spirit ; God has prepared 
 thy haven of rest ! God has kept a home open for 
 thee, where thou wilt find with delight what thou 
 
220 FUTURE LIFE HIDDEN FROM US. 
 
 hast lost here. Thou wilt not be alone ; thy loved 
 ones are already awaiting thee. They beckon to 
 thee with the palm of victory which thou art to 
 fight for here below. Up, then, my soul, fight 
 out the battle ! Raise thyself, through the aid of 
 Jesus' Holy Word, in the Holy Spirit of Jesus to 
 that perfection, through which alone thou canst 
 become a denizen of that better land, a partaker 
 of that more blissful eternity ! It is the Lord 
 that cries to thee, " Be faithful unto death, and I 
 will give thee the crown of life." 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 I know, I know in whom I trust, 
 And bow me humbly in the dust, 
 
 My Saviour, God, and Lord, to thee. 
 If from my sins I may be freed, 
 If I may hope thy help in need, 
 
 0, then must heaven my portion be ! 
 
 And when my last sleep draweth near, 
 Then dare I, without doubt or fear, 
 
 To the beloved One look on high. 
 And none who knew me here, and loved, 
 Will e'er repent, or stand unmoved, 
 
 Beside the grave in which I lie. 
 
 (Eev. xiv. 13.) 
 
 ^NE tiling after another fades and dies 
 away : herbs of the field, animals, and 
 man. We come, we look around us, 
 Sl 3 and depart again from this world. 
 Whether we are to depart in the bloom of youth, 
 or in the fulness of years, — who can say ? And 
 in the end it is of little consequence, — for of 
 what importance are a few days, a few years more 
 or less ? That which is past is as if it had never 
 been. The dust of the infant and the dust of the 
 old man rest side by side in the grave, and there 
 is now no difference between them. Another 
 
222 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 generation moves above them, which knows 
 naught of them, makes no mention of them, 
 lives on, but is soon to be laid low by their 
 side. 
 
 We are all aware of this, and we dread the 
 moment, but in vain. Whether it be on the field 
 of battle, or on the bed of sickness, or in the 
 midst of our relatives, or in a lonely prison, it 
 matters little ; it is sure to come. 
 
 To delude ourselves in regard to it, and never 
 to look forward to that moment, is as senseless as 
 it is to be ever tormenting ourselves with thoughts 
 of death, and thus imbittering all enjoyment in 
 life. But it is wise to keep in store, for that 
 solemn and dreaded moment, a joy that will turn 
 all bitterness to sweetness. 
 
 Many persons, it is true, do think of this, but 
 they do not always make a good choice. They 
 are frequently very one-sided in their selection of 
 that which is to comfort them in the hour of dis- 
 solution. 
 
 There are many who toil anxiously their whole 
 life through to amass money, in order that they 
 may leave their children a respectable fortune, 
 or at least a competence. That is undoubtedly 
 very praiseworthy. It must certainly be a great 
 comfort to them in their last hour, when parting 
 from those dear ones, to think that they are pro- 
 vided for, though no one may be there to watch 
 over them. That they are not quite forsaken, 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 223 
 
 are not quite without means, will not be beggars, 
 or be hustled about as troublesome beings ; that 
 they are placed in a position to lead an indepen- 
 dent and honorable life. Assuredly this is a great 
 comfort. Yet it is but a poor joy. For the good 
 or the evil fortune of our dear ones, after our 
 death, does not rest solely on the money that we 
 may leave them. Their future lot depends far 
 more upon their skill, their knowledge, their vir- 
 tues, and upon the friendship of their fellow-men, 
 and the blessing of God. All the money in the 
 world cannot make us happy, if our mental dispo- 
 sition be adverse. It is true, that a moderate 
 fortune will save our children from too great de- 
 pendence on the favor and caprice of other men. 
 But it is only he who has educated his children 
 so as to render them happy and contented, inde- 
 pendently of money, that can say that he leaves 
 them true riches, which thieves cannot steal, and 
 circumstances not impair, and moth not eat. 
 Finally, if we can find no better comfort in the 
 hour of the last parting from our loved ones, than 
 that we leave them some pecuniary means where- 
 with to get on in the world, then we have done 
 little indeed ! Even the heathens do this ! We 
 have only fulfilled a most urgent duty, and grati- 
 fied our own ambition. 
 
 Others store up for the hour of death a joy 
 which they have been hard-hearted enough to 
 deny themselves all their fife long. We hear 
 
224 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 that persons who are dying have forgiven their 
 enemies, and have been sincerely reconciled to 
 them. 
 
 True, to be reconciled to enemies is a delight 
 to the soul. And to desire to be so is a proof of 
 a noble disposition, if we have given offence by 
 our pride, our covetousness, or our irrepressible 
 anger. But if we look closely at it, what is a 
 reconciliation with our enemies on the bed of 
 death ? In fact, nothing more than a declaration 
 that we wish to make peace with them now that 
 we can no longer injure them. What would you 
 think of the sincerity of the desire for reconcilia- 
 tion of a man who, when thrown into prison, 
 promises peace and good- will, and asks your for- 
 giveness for the past ? And are not those who 
 propose reconciliation on their death-bed in the 
 same case ? Are all those present whom we have 
 in the course of life offended by word or by deed ? 
 Can our will to be reconciled to them make 
 amends for the many painful hours and days we 
 have caused them by our quarrelsome and un- 
 amiable disposition ? And are we sure they have 
 forgiven us all our trespasses ? Why hast thou 
 postponed till the hour of death that which thou 
 wert bound to do every day of thy life, and why 
 makest thou peace then only, when thy enmity 
 can no longer be dangerous ? Dost thou think 
 that the wish, forced upon thee by the fear in thy 
 heart, is sufficient to stifle the sighs of those thou 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 225 
 
 hast offended, so that they shall not rise up to 
 Heaven to witness against thee ? 
 
 Of others, again, we hear that, when disposing 
 of their property by will, they have not been for- 
 getful of the poor, that they have bestowed be- 
 nevolent gifts on almshouses, and on other useful 
 public institutions ; sometimes, that they have 
 made special arrangements for restoring that 
 which they have acquired by unrighteous means 
 to the rightful owners. This is right. We ought 
 not to depart from this world with the conscious- 
 ness of having committed a wrong, without taking 
 means to make all the amends in our power. And 
 it is praiseworthy to think of the good of the com- 
 monwealth, also, in the disposition we may make 
 of our fortunes after our death. Not only our 
 children .or our blood-relatives are our kindred, 
 all the children of God, all those for whom Jesus 
 died, are so likewise. However, the pleasure 
 which we feel in giving away that which death 
 forbids us any longer to possess must be rather a 
 sad one. Why, O miserly, ungenerous spirit, dost 
 thou not give away in thy lifetime, and thus pro- 
 mote joy and happiness ? Then that would have 
 been a merit which in thy last hour ceases to be one. 
 The poor widow mentioned in the Gospels, indi- 
 gent as she was, brought her mite to the treasury. 
 But thou hast been saving that thou mightest in- 
 crease thy goods, and thou hast only become gen- 
 erous now that the moment has arrived when thou 
 10* o 
 
226 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 canst no longer thyself enjoy thy riches. Thou, 
 who hast spent thy fortune in splendid entertain- 
 ments, in pomp and luxury, in tickling thy palate 
 with high-priced delicacies, and hast only begun 
 to think of clothing the naked and feeding the 
 hungry since illness and the approach of death 
 have deprived thee of the power of continuing 
 thy life of revelry and self-indulgence, — what 
 merit hast thou ? Thou growest more abstemious 
 because thy appetite fails thee, and thou givest 
 away what thou canst no longer use. Verily thy 
 virtue is not great ; canst thou hope that it will 
 suffice to sweeten the bitter cup of death ? 
 
 It is a consolation in the hour of death to see 
 one's self surrounded by friends and dear rela- 
 tives, and to behold in their grief and tears a grat- 
 ifying testimony of their affection and tender at- 
 tachment. But does this suffice to take away all 
 the bitterness of the last moment ? Who is not 
 saddened by the sight of death ? It is impossible 
 to witness without emotion the last sigh of even 
 a perfect stranger. Can we then regard it as a 
 merit in ourselves, as a proof of our inward worth, 
 that those who have been accustomed to live with 
 us for long years, with whom we have enter- 
 tained relations of the closest intimacy, should 
 weep at our death ? Would it not be more grati- 
 fying to know in our last hour that those also 
 with whom we have never, or at least but rarely, 
 held personal intercourse, will grieve when they 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH 227 
 
 hear of our departure ? That the whole commu- 
 nity will lament and say, " We have lost an up- 
 right fellow-citizen, a supporter of the poor and 
 afflicted, an active promoter of every good under- 
 taking, a pleasant companion, a philanthropist in 
 the fullest sense of the word" ? 
 
 Truly, one of the greatest joys that can be ours 
 at the moment of death is the consciousness that 
 in quitting the world we leave behind us a mem- 
 ory respected by all who knew us ; while, on the 
 other hand, there can be no greater pain than to 
 have the conviction that many survive who wish 
 that they had never known us, or had never been 
 brought into closer connection with us. 
 
 That sweetest of comforts, that none who sur- 
 vived him regretted having known him, was en- 
 joyed in death by Jesus Christ. He died the 
 death of supreme self-sacrifice for the happiness 
 of all souls ; he died the death of inexpressible 
 love, even for the ungrateful, who still misjudged 
 him. He died, but even his persecutors admired 
 him ; even his judges declared, " We see no evil 
 in him." A deluded people, in a storm of wild 
 passion, put him to death, — but Jerusalem wept. 
 After the lapse of a few days his enemies were 
 seized with an avenging panic, and thousands who 
 had turned away from him again sought refuge 
 with him. Even to this day, after very nearly 
 two thousand years, the race redeemed by him 
 grieves at the memory of his sufferings and his 
 
228 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 death. Verily, this is to die in God ! This is to 
 be followed by the blessings of one's works long 
 after death. 
 
 " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
 from henceforth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
 may rest from their labors ; and their works do 
 follow them." (Rev. xiv. 13.) 
 
 And this — yea, none but this — is the last 
 earthly joy that every wise man and woman, 
 every trne Christian, ought to store up for the 
 hour of death. With such consciousness it is 
 sweet to fall asleep. But what is meant by dying 
 in the Lord ? It means to die in the spirit and in 
 the holiness of Jesus Christ. But what is meant 
 by dying in Jesus ? It means, to die, not merely 
 believing in God and in Jesus, (for the devils also 
 believe and tremble,) but to be one with Jesus. 
 And how can we die in Jesus, if we have not 
 lived in Jesus ? What is meant by living in 
 Jesus ? It means to live and act in his faith, in 
 his spirit, and according to his example ; to live 
 and to act as he would have lived, thought, and 
 acted, had he been in our place. 
 
 Only he who has lived in the Lord can die in 
 the Lord. Only he who dies in the Lord can be 
 called blessed. He rests from his labors, — he 
 rests, not from his pleasures, not from his en- 
 deavors after riches, honors, and admiration, or 
 after pomp and splendor, but from his labors for 
 the good and happiness of others. And he may 
 be called blessed, for his works do follow him. 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 229 
 
 They follow liim to the hour of his death, and 
 the remembrance of them is then his last con- 
 solation. He departs joyfully, with the happy 
 thought : of all that survive me, there is not one 
 who repents having known me, or having been 
 brought into closer or more distant connection 
 with me. I leave no one behind me who rejoices 
 at my being removed from the ranks of the liv- 
 ing, because my existence has been oppressive 
 and hateful to him. No ; I leave a circle of 
 friends to not one of whom I have wilfully done 
 an injury, even though I may have done them no 
 good. I have effected in my life as much as 
 was in my power. I often asked myself, when 
 about to act or speak, Would Jesus have acted, 
 have thought, have spoken thus, had he been in 
 like circumstances ? I have lived in the Lord, 
 and therefore I die in the Lord. My Saviour 
 lives, and I also shall live. Blessed is he who 
 dies thus, for his works do follow him. 
 
 They follow him to the grave. O what fu- 
 neral pomp can be compared to the remembrance 
 of our virtues by those we leave behind us ; to 
 the tears of affection with which our friends dwell 
 upon our goodness ; to the respect with which 
 our fellow-citizens cherish our memory ; to the 
 emotion with which even strangers exclaim, Truly 
 this man may be called blessed in death, for his 
 meritorious works follow him ! yea, they follow 
 him, and will be turned into blessings for his 
 
230 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 children and his children's children. His name, 
 which lives in the remembrance of his fellow- 
 citizens, is the best recommendation for the rela- 
 tives he leaves behind him. The world is willing 
 to reward a deceased father and mother by con- 
 ferriner benefits on their children. In these the 
 parents are honored ! Woe to him who has 
 nothing to leave his beloved ones but money and 
 money's worth ! Riches vanish, but an honor- 
 able name, acquired through the possession of 
 great virtues, is a sacred treasure, which neither 
 the flames of war, nor the cunning of dissemblers, 
 nor the injustice of the great, nor the violence of 
 the ruthless, can destroy. When the mind of 
 the dying can dwell complacently on this thought, 
 they enjoy in death unutterable bliss ; for they 
 are conscious that " then' works do follow them." 
 They follow them into the better life beyond the 
 grave. Far above the stars, and — let every 
 sinner tremble at the thought, and every right- 
 eous man rejoice — above the stars dwells retrib- 
 utive justice. The God of justice lives, and I 
 shall live with him. What I have done to the 
 least of Jesus' brethren and mine, I have done 
 to him. God will requite me ! The heart-felt 
 thanks of the sufferers whom I have comforted 
 will be echoed in heaven. The glistening tears 
 of joy or emotion which a feeling heart sheds on 
 hearing of good deeds done by me unostentatious- 
 ly and disinterestedly, are reflected in heaven ; 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH 231 
 
 the deep-felt but unobtrusive praise — unheard 
 and unsought for by me on earth — with which 
 my companions mention the philanthropic insti- 
 tutions, or other works of public utility, which 
 I have founded, will be heard by me in heaven. 
 Ah ! what rapture must fill the heart of the dying 
 man when he can say to himself, " Far from leav- 
 ing behind me any one who is likely to curse my 
 memory, I may confidently hope that many will 
 remember me with affection " ! 
 
 I shall one day die ! this is beyond a doubt. 
 But shall I, in the hour of death, feel that ineffable 
 joy which sweetens the bitterness of parting ? 
 Ought I not to wish that it may be so ? Is there 
 anything I dread so much as the hour of dissolu- 
 tion ? And why not, then, endeavor to lay up 
 such store of gladness for it as may lie in my 
 power ? Ah, " blessed are they who die in the 
 Lord " ! 
 
 How, if the next night were to be my last ? or 
 the next month ? (Who knows when the hour 
 may come when God shall call him from his 
 works ?) Should I, in that case, taste the last 
 and sweetest of all earthly joys ? 
 
 If I were doomed to die this instant, could I lay 
 my head on my death-bed pillow with the con- 
 sciousness that I leave no one behind me in the 
 world who has reason to repent of having been 
 connected with me in any way ? Is there no one 
 who, by word, deed, or example, I have led into 
 
232 A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 
 
 sin ? No one who needs blush in secret when re- 
 membering me ? Is there no one whom I have 
 injured in the estimation of his fellow-citizens by 
 envious gossip, by rash judgment, or by reckless 
 sarcasm ? Is there no one who is vexed when he 
 hears my name, because I have maliciously injured 
 his good repute through love of disparagement ? 
 Is there no one from whom I have unjustly taken, 
 and perhaps still keep back, what was his by right ? 
 Who lias perhaps failed to demand it of me, be- 
 cause I have so cunningly managed that he did 
 not know who was his despoiler ? Shall I leave 
 to my heirs property so unrighteously acquired, 
 and to which no blessing can attach ? Is there no 
 one whose life I have imbittered by my caprices, 
 by my discontented, quarrelsome, domineering dis- 
 position ? Is there no one who may one day la- 
 ment that I have not attended more carefully to his 
 education ? Is there no one whom I have offend- 
 ed, and whose forgiveness I ought to seek ? Is 
 there no one who has injured me, and whom I 
 still hate, or with whom I am still at variance ? 
 
 I shall one day die ! that is beyond a doubt. 
 But shall I die in the Lord? Have I lived in the 
 Lord ? Ah ! I must veil my face from Thee, O 
 Searcher of hearts, O omniscient God, O most 
 holy Avenger ! For I feel, when examining my- 
 self, that I am not quite blameless. I have still to 
 repair much evil that I have done. I have still to 
 make amends for many things which it behooves 
 
A JOY IN THE HOUR OF DEATH. 233 
 
 me not to forget. I have not always lived in 
 thee, my Saviour, and therefore I could not now 
 die joyfully in thee. It would have been easy for 
 me to confer some little pleasure on each one of 
 my acquaintances, and to render them some ser- 
 vice had I availed myself of every favorable 
 opportunity, and yet I have rarely done so. Alas ! 
 I may have frequently done the contrary. Ah ! I 
 hardly dare to think of it. 
 
 Yet, hear my promise, O omnipresent God ! I 
 will think of it ; I will improve, I will make rep- 
 aration, I will redeem what I have neglected, I 
 will live in Jesus, that I may one day, blessed in 
 death, fall asleep in the Lord, with the conscious- 
 ness that I leave no one behind me who has cause 
 to regret having known me. I may therefore 
 apply to myself also the heavenly words : " Bless- 
 ed are the dead which die in the Lord from hence- 
 forth : Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest 
 from their labors, and their works do follow 
 them ! " 
 
THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES OF 
 THOSE WE LOVE. 
 
 Vital spark of heavenly flame, 
 Quit, quit this mortal frame : 
 Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying ; 
 O the pain, the bliss of dying ! 
 Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 
 And let me languish into life. 
 
 Hark ! they whisper ; angels say, 
 Sister spirit, come away. 
 What is this absorbs me quite ? 
 Steals my senses, shuts my sight, 
 Drowns my spirit, draws my breath ? 
 Tell me, my soul, can this be death 1 
 
 The world recedes ; it disappears ! 
 Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears 
 
 With sounds seraphic ring : 
 Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! 
 O Grave ! where is thy victory ? 
 
 O Death ! where is thy sting 1 
 
 (Luke xxiii. 46.) 
 
 LADLY do I turn my thoughts to you, 
 O beloved ones, who have gone before 
 me into a better world ! O ye never- 
 *& to-be-forgotten objects of my heart's 
 devotion, my longing for you is so great, that it 
 seems to lift me above the dust in which I still 
 
THOUGHTS OF THOSE WE LOVE. 235 
 
 dwell ! It is you who, with angel hands, as it 
 "were, bind closer the ties that unite the here and 
 the hereafter, who strew roses on the bed of death 
 on which I shall one day be stretched, and who 
 rob dissolution itself of all its terrors. To think 
 of you, to hope for reunion with you, is to add to 
 my happiness here below, and is one of the sweet- 
 est duties of my heart's religion. 
 
 I know that in remote times, when the heathens 
 saw the Christians praying at the graves of those 
 they loved, and even in our day, when Christianity 
 reminds its votaries of God and of eternity, the 
 religion of Christ was, and is still called, a severe 
 and saddening worship, incapable of inspiring 
 cheerfulness, contentment, or joy in life ; and 
 that, in consequence, many have turned away 
 from it. But these contemners of Christianity 
 have not been sufficiently acquainted with it, or 
 have judged it according to the dark views and 
 melancholy dispositions of individual preachers, 
 who loved to inspire their hearers with dread by 
 the pictures which they drew of the terrors of the 
 judgment, and the sufferings of the condemned, 
 and by the idea which they gave of eternity. 
 These men preached a Godhead as prone to an- 
 ger, as inexorable, and as revengeful as themselves. 
 
 Nevertheless, the God of Christianity is the 
 God of love and gladness, for he is the Father of 
 the beings he has created. The religion of Jesus 
 is a religion of love and joy, for it encourages 
 
236 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 innocent cheerfulness, moderate enjoyment of the 
 gifts of the Father, and contentment with our lot ; 
 its object is perfection and happiness ; and even 
 death, so much dreaded by all creatures, the Chris- 
 tian religion disarms of its terrors, making it ap- 
 pear as an angel of love and joy, which comes not 
 to destroy existence, but to lift it into a higher 
 sphere. The infidel, the man who scoffs at Chris- 
 tianity, may tremble at death, but to the Christian 
 sao-e it comes as a friendly messenger from God ; 
 and for this reason Christians are pleased at times 
 to contemplate death. To them the thought is not 
 fraught with melancholy, but with exquisite pleas- 
 ure, because, by raising expectations of a higher 
 bliss in the future it makes the present the more 
 delightful. For joy is always purest and most 
 lively when, instead of contemplating its melan- 
 choly end, we can look forward to its uninterrupted 
 continuation. And such is the hope of the Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 Although on approaching the graves of our 
 dear ones, or when communing in spirit with 
 them, a feeling of sadness may steal over us, this 
 sadness is not unhappiness, but a sweet uplifting 
 of the soul by a rapturous yearning toward those 
 that have gone before us. Know ye not that bliss 
 can have its sadness, and silent joy its tears ? If 
 ye will call this feeling pain, O then it is a sweet 
 pain, in which there is greater enjoyment than 
 noisy mirth reveals. Know ye not that when a 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 237 
 
 delicate and refined soul is most penetrated by joy- 
 it is most attuned to melancholy, and that this 
 feeling in its turn is followed by serene composure 
 and tranquil happiness ? 
 
 When a father or a mother sinks down by the 
 grave of a lost darling, or when the sight of the 
 trifles which the dear departed one was fond of in 
 life, calls forth his memory in livelier colors ; when 
 a gentle and affectionate child treasures up, as a 
 sacred relic after the death of father or mother, 
 some object that has belonged to either ; when 
 husband or wife separated from the loved partner 
 of life, and, cherishing the remembrance of their 
 mutual love and their happy marriage, places great 
 store upon some ring, or some letters traced by the 
 dear hand as a token of the affection that united 
 them in life, and a symbol of the indissoluble 
 union of their souls ; when lovers early parted, or 
 when friends, brothers, sisters, remember in soli- 
 tude and retirement the dear ones they have lost ; 
 when, with many a deep-drawn sigh, their lips 
 whisper the cherished name ; when their tears 
 falling on the grave bear witness to their undying 
 affection ; — is it pain and anguish which they expe- 
 rience, or a sad but heavenly satisfaction ? If no 
 gratification is mixed up with these tears and sighs, 
 why, then, do we mortals, who are so prone to 
 shun everything that is painful, so often indulge in 
 such sorrow ? 
 
 No, no ; there is nothing painful in the thought 
 
238 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 of you, my departed ones ! Where there is 
 true love there is also true happiness. Here in 
 my imperfect state I still cling to you with un- 
 changing; devotion : here in the dust I still re- 
 member you with unaltered affection. Ah ! and 
 may I not hope that you, in your glorified state, 
 though much more perfect than I am, still re- 
 member with affection my faithful, loving heart ? 
 Would your happiness be heightened were you 
 not allowed to love in return those that love you ? 
 Would He, whose name is Love, who binds mag- 
 netically together distant worlds and stars, and 
 who has bestowed affection as the sweetest of his 
 gifts on all sentient beings under the sun ; would 
 he have ordained it so, that the better life be- 
 yond the grave should commence with the annihi- 
 lation of that true love which is the universal law 
 of creation ? No, no ; faithful souls, in time and 
 in eternity, commune lovingly with each other, 
 and join hands above the grave. I have not for- 
 gotten you, and ye are cognizant of my love ; ye 
 behold the tears, and hear the sighs with which 
 my heart affectionately calls to you. Ye are 
 aware of my undying tenderness, and ye respond 
 to it according to the sublime conditions of your 
 higher existence. 
 
 Flow freely, tears of sadness ; bleed again and 
 again, old and deep wounds of my faithful heart ! 
 Ah ! those who have departed from me were 
 truly worthy of such homage. Ye are, as it 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 239 
 
 were, the sacred and only offerings wliich I can 
 now bring them. It is a sweet pleasure to me to 
 think that they to whom these offerings are made 
 see them and appreciate them. Flow, O tears ! 
 open again, O bleeding wounds of my heart ! 
 With the blood that gushes forth from these 
 wounds vanishes gradually all that is most sens- 
 uous in me, and I cease to cling so tenaciously to 
 the empty vanities of life. With this blood also 
 flows out many of my worst passions which in- 
 cline me to attach to the joys or sorrows of this 
 life more value than they deserve. In thinking 
 of the glorified spirits my own spirit is purified, 
 and calm contentment spreads through my heart. 
 It is only where faith in God and immortality fail, 
 and man in his blindness believes that with death 
 all ends, that this contentment can never be felt, 
 and that sorrow for lost loved ones assumes the 
 form of dark despair. In those cases the tears 
 of hopeless grief become a solemn accusation of 
 cruelty against the Highest Being, and seem to 
 declare that man is nobler and more full of love 
 than the all-animating and all-uniting Deity who 
 is enthroned above the stars. 
 
 It is folly indeed for the mourner, when think- 
 ing of the departed, to figure to himself only then* 
 earthly form, in all the loveliness with which it 
 was invested in life, and then to contrast it with 
 what it is, as it lies cold and inanimate in the 
 grave, — to think of their former tender affection 
 
240 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 for him, which now finds no voice ; their former 
 joyous disposition, and the delight they took in 
 the things of this earth, which they have now lost 
 forever, as though it were their bodies that had 
 entertained this affection for him, as though it 
 were their earthly ashes that had experienced 
 these feelings of delight ! Why, even hi the 
 animal, it is not that which it has drawn from 
 the earth, it is not its flesh and blood that experi- 
 ence pleasure, but a something higher that dwells 
 in it. 
 
 They who mourn over the dead because they 
 are no longer able to enjoy those pleasures of life 
 which were dear to them here below, may be 
 likened to a child that mourns over the departure 
 of a friend of maturer age, who has left him to 
 hasten into the arms of affectionate parents, or 
 of a loving bride, or to accept some post of honor. 
 The child deplores that his friend can no longer 
 take part in his sports, but in reality, instead of 
 grieving for his absent friend, he is weeping over 
 the abandoned toys that are laid aside as useless. 
 Ought we to feel pity for that which is utterly 
 dead, and which is incapable of suffering ? But 
 such is the state of the body, the mortal coil of 
 the soul, the left-off garment of the departed 
 friend. 
 
 Does it not sometimes happen in our sorrow, 
 that, giving ourselves up to strange delusions and 
 to mistaken pity, we lament over the fate of the 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 241 
 
 body, the outward form, while we entirely forget 
 the soul that animated it ? For if we thought f 
 the spirit, how could we weep over it as dead 
 when we know that it lives ? 
 
 Frequently, also, it is the commiseration we feel 
 with the sufferings our beloved ones underwent 
 in their last illness, or in the very hour of death, 
 that causes our tears to flow. In these cases our 
 feelings seem more justifiable ; yet, upon reflec- 
 tion, we shall find that here also we are deluded 
 by our senses and our imagination. I cannot be- 
 lieve that death, i. e. the departure of the soul 
 from the body, is in itself painful. At all events, 
 it cannot be more so than the illness which causes 
 death, and yet the most dangerous maladies are 
 generally attended by the least suffering, how- 
 ever terrible they may be to witness. For how 
 often has it not been asserted by those that have 
 recovered from such illnesses, that when they 
 were nearest death they suffered very little and 
 were but partially conscious ? We also know 
 that in distressing complaints the patient grows 
 more and more composed as the moment of dis- 
 solution draws nearer, and that, in many cases 
 of slow disease or of decay of the vital powers 
 from old age, death approaches so gently, that it 
 seems in truth but a falling asleep. Consequent- 
 ly, we have a right to conclude that dying is in 
 itself not painful, (for if it were it would be so 
 in every case,) or at all events, that it is not more 
 11 p 
 
242 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 so than the illness that precedes it, for otherwise 
 death would not bring with it that increased com- 
 posure, that painless stupor, which is so much like 
 sleep. Now, if you do not weep and despairing- 
 ly lament over those who have recovered from a 
 severe illness because of the sufferings they en- 
 dured in its course, why do you thus mourn for 
 those whom the gentle hand of death has released 
 from their sufferings ? Were not the pain and the 
 illness the same, whether the patient recovered or 
 whether he died ? Yes, say you ; but the patient 
 who recovers finds in the renewed joys of life 
 compensation for his past sufferings ! Ah ! and 
 the glorified soul of the departed, does that not 
 find far greater compensation in the higher sphere 
 to which it is removed ? Is God just to those who 
 remain on earth, and unjust to all the other beings 
 that people his universe, — unjust towards those 
 whom he calls to himself with fatherly love, 
 when their time on earth is completed ? In like 
 manner as Christ, when dying on the cross, lifted 
 up his voice and cried, " Father, into thy hands 
 I commend my spirit ! " so will I, on the receipt 
 of intelligence of the dissolution of friends, or 
 when standing by the death-bed of those I love, 
 lift up my voice and cry, Father, into thy hands 
 I commend their spirit ! Thou art their God, — 
 as here on earth, so also beyond the grave ; thou 
 wert their God before they knew thee ; thou 
 didst love them before they loved thee. 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 243 
 
 He who fears not death feels it not, nor does 
 he experience the awe that takes possession of 
 the living at the sight of it. Children who know 
 naught of death, die quietly without anticipating 
 it. To them, it is but the end of their illness. 
 They may possibly die in cramps and convulsions ; 
 but these are no more than a fearful play of the 
 muscles, which, though painful for the bystanders 
 to witness, is not felt by the dying child. For 
 instance, what can be more distressing to behold 
 than epileptic fits ? Yet it is well known that 
 persons who labor under this disease do not suf- 
 fer, and, indeed, are hardly conscious of being 
 subject to the fits, though while in them they 
 utter groans as if in pain, and their features are 
 fearfully distorted. 
 
 Only those that fear death feel it, or rather feel 
 when it is drawing nigh. The uneasy conscience 
 trembles at the thought of the judgment. The 
 approach of death awakens in the heart the dark 
 despair of a too tardy remorse. There is some- 
 thing inexpressibly fearful in the thought of being 
 unable — at the very moment when life and all 
 its joys are about to fail us — to say, "Father, 
 into thy hands I commend my spirit " ! 
 
 Yet we should be mistaken were we always to 
 attribute either the apparent nervous apprehen- 
 sion, or the calm composure of the dying, to the 
 character of the life they have led in this world ; 
 for experience teaches that the most lovable 
 
244 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 and innocent children frequently die under what 
 seems great uneasiness; while, on the contrary, 
 the greatest sinners have breathed their last with 
 unalterable outward composure. What we wit- 
 ness when standing at the bedside of the dying 
 is, as a general rule, merely the effects of the 
 malady on the body and its vital powers. What 
 is going on in the spirit of him who is about to 
 depart, while apparently sunk in a state of stupor, 
 who shall say ? Those who have seen ruthless 
 criminals led out to die by the hand of the execu- 
 tioner, in the full vigor of life, will know that 
 such persons frequently meet their death with 
 great apparent composure. But is it possible to 
 believe that this outward calm is the consequence 
 of inward peace ? 
 
 Even good and pious people are, in many cases, 
 rendered uneasy at the thought of their dissolu- 
 tion, merely because they allow their imagination 
 too much scope, and endeavor to picture to them- 
 selves what they will feel in their last moments. 
 They shudder at the thought of having to ex- 
 change all that is dear and familiar to them on 
 earth for the unknown and unfamiliar. But this 
 anxiety would soon vanish, were they sufficiently 
 acquainted with the wisdom of God, as it is re- 
 vealed throughout the entire system of nature. 
 They would then see that what they look upon as 
 unknown is in reality quite familiar to them, and 
 that what they so much dread ought rather to 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 245 
 
 awaken feelings of pleasure. They would know 
 that the new life they are to enter is only another 
 and more glorious gift of their Heavenly Father, 
 than that which he bestows when he calls us into 
 this earthly existence. Hast thou not full confi- 
 dence in the providence of thy all-loving and 
 all-seeing Father in heaven ? Why, then, dost 
 thou tremble ? Does the child tremble at the 
 thought of the Christmas gift it is to receive from 
 its parents, though what this may be is quite un- 
 known to it ? The better lot that God has pre- 
 pared for us is like a kind and fatherly gift, to 
 which we ought to look forward with pleasure 
 and joyful trust. When a human being enters 
 as an infant into this life, which he has never seen 
 or felt ; when his loving mother presses him for 
 the first time with a warm welcome to her bosom ; 
 when the father bends joyfully and tenderly over 
 the new-comer and blesses him, does the child 
 shrink back in fear from the unknown and the 
 unfamiliar ? How kindly, with how many tender 
 caresses, is he not greeted by all ? How grad- 
 ually he becomes acquainted with the new things 
 that surround him ! Now picture to yourselves 
 that man had, previously to his appearance on 
 this earth, lived in another world and under far 
 more perfect conditions ; do you conceive that 
 even in that case he would find the things of this 
 life so very strange ? And in the life to which 
 death is the introduction, we may be assured, the 
 
246 THOUGHTS AT THE GRAVES 
 
 welcome we shall meet with will not be less kind 
 and loving than that with which we were received 
 here ; perhaps, indeed, the former will far surpass 
 the latter. For in yon life preparations have 
 already been made' for our happiness ; there are 
 dear ones there awaiting our coming. 
 
 Why should I doubt this, and doubt it merely 
 because it is not known to me ? Had not God 
 made preparations for my reception on earth, and 
 provision for my happiness here, before I was 
 born ? Who thought of me before I came ? 
 Who measured out my joys to me, before I had 
 a heart to feel them ? Who meted out my suf- 
 ferings, before I knew what tears were ? Was it 
 not my eternal, all-loving Father ? Well, and 
 he who thought of me before I was, before I 
 knew him, — will he forget me now that I am ? 
 Will he forsake me now that I love him in return, 
 and have learnt to call him Father ? Will he 
 leave me unprovided for now that I worship Mm, 
 and with wondering awe adore him in his crea- 
 tion ? 
 
 Ah, no ! Father in heaven, thou wilt not, thou 
 canst not do this ! Thou canst not, thou wilt not 
 abandon the spirits whom thou hast created, when 
 they have but just attained the consciousness of 
 thy existence and of their own ! Thou wert 
 their God before they existed; thou art their 
 God as long as they dwell in this world ; and 
 thou wilt be their God when they enter into the 
 
OF THOSE WE LOVE. 247 
 
 higher existence which thou hast prepared for 
 them from the beginning of the world ! With 
 rapture, with a presentiment of unutterable joy, 
 I think of the hereafter, where I shall find thee, 
 my God, and where I shall again meet all the 
 dear ones whom thou didst bestow on me here on 
 earth ! Ah ! what a moment that will be, when 
 I shall feel myself transferred to heaven ! What 
 bliss to be reunited with all the loved ones, 
 whom thou, O Father, hast bound to me by the 
 ties of affection ! With lips tremulous with joy, 
 I shall one day utter the prayer, " Father, into 
 thy hands I commend my spirit." Amen. 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 0, hope of immortality, 
 
 Let all my soul be filled with thee, — 
 
 Teach me the ways of holiness, 
 
 And when I fail, sustain and bless. 
 O, Godlike gift, by God designed, 
 Thee do I ever bear in mind, — 
 
 "Why should sad thoughts my heart oppress ? 
 
 And when to full perfection brought, 
 
 Then shall I see and know aright 
 God's mercy, passing human thought, 
 
 Rejoicing, shall I bless the sight. 
 From doubts which made me tremble here, 
 The shadowing veil shall disappear, 
 
 And all be glory and delight. 
 
 (1 Tim. vi. 12.) 
 
 'ERHAPS there is not one of the many 
 = » sacred subjects of reflection presented 
 liailiff to the mind by the religion of Jesus 
 Christ, which so strongly rivets the 
 attention as the doctrine and hope of the immor- 
 tality of the soul. For the love of life, and the 
 desire for its continuance, is deeply implanted in 
 the human breast. However full of tribulation 
 this earthly life may be, mortal man does not 
 willingly yield it up. However loudly the 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 249 
 
 pious hypocrite may proclaim this lovely world of 
 God's to be a land of misery and a vale of tears, 
 he does not the less desire to abide in it, and he 
 recoils with a shudder from that death, which he 
 so often extols as his deliverer from the wretch- 
 edness of this life. Up to the moment when they 
 breathe their last sigh the dying still hope to live ; 
 this hope often accompanies the criminal to the 
 very steps of the scaffold, and solaces the con- 
 demned in his dark prison cell. 
 
 It is this love of life that inspires all mortals 
 with a secret horror of death, which at the same 
 time fills them with faith in the continued exist- 
 ence of their soul after the dissolution of the 
 body. In this love, by which the wisdom of the 
 Creator has bound us as with almost indissoluble 
 ties to life here on earth, he has also revealed to 
 our minds their sublime destination. All peoples, 
 when once awakened from the stupor of mere 
 animal life, embrace with ardor the idea of a life 
 beyond the grave. All religions, even those of 
 savao-e tribes, teach that the soul enters into a 
 state of bliss, or appears before the judgment- 
 seat, in a future life. But the Christian has a 
 more confident hope than others. He has, in ad- 
 dition to the revelation of God through human 
 reason, the revelation of God through his Son 
 Jesus Christ. In like manner as Jesus conquered 
 death, so shall we also conquer death, and change 
 the perishable for the imperishable. 
 11* 
 
250 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Even the most frivolous mind cannot laugh 
 away the thought of eternity. Even the most 
 lukewarm Christian, who lives in this world as 
 though he were to dwell in it forever, cannot 
 always escape from thoughts of the grave. Even 
 the reprobate who, abandoned to his own passions, 
 follies, and vices, exerts all his wits, and brings 
 forth every possible argument, to disprove the 
 existence of an avenging God in the universe, 
 and to throw discredit on the belief in the immor- 
 tality of that part of his own being that thinks 
 and wills and works so wonderfully in the body, 
 — even he is sometimes involuntarily, in the 
 midst of his dissipation, compelled to think of 
 God and eternity. The thought forces itself 
 upon him as an indestructible and eternal truth. 
 He thinks and shudders. " The devils also be- 
 lieve and tremble ! " says St. James (ii. 19). 
 
 There are three testimonies in favor of the 
 truth that man was not created for this short life 
 alone, and that he belongs not only to earth, but 
 also to a higher existence, — the world of spirits, 
 which no frivolity, no wit, no power of argument, 
 can destroy. And these testimonies, which are 
 found among all nations of the world, are : the 
 universal belief in a God, the universal presence 
 of a conscience, or an inward judge in man, and 
 the universal faith in eternity. These intuitive 
 ideas are indeed the educators and the preservers 
 of the human race. 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 251 
 
 In truth, what would the world be without 
 these three great ideas ? Where would be the 
 power capable of curbing and taming man, in the 
 frenzy of passion the most destructive of animals, 
 were these three great ideas to vanish from the 
 world ? Picture to yourself the human race, 
 with its wild, all-consuming desires, left to itself, 
 without faith in God, without the feeling of right 
 and wrong, and without the conception of a con- 
 tinued existence after death. What safety would 
 there be for life or property ? Would an oath be 
 respected ? Would law have power to bind ? 
 Would an army inspire fear ? Would innocence 
 be held sacred ? Would tears have power to 
 move ? No ; all the horrors of hell would be 
 perpetrated under the heavens. Violence, cun- 
 ning, and cruelty would reign supreme. Assas- 
 sination would precipitate ruler and subject alike 
 into the grave. The earth would soon be con- 
 verted into a depopulated waste, similar to what 
 it was before it was trodden by the foot of man. 
 
 If the thought of eternity can produce so 
 powerful, so magical an effect, even on the 
 savage, what influence must it not exercise over 
 the Christian, who, having received the revela- 
 tion of Jesus, and being admitted into his king- 
 dom, has little to hope on earth, but everything 
 to look forward to in eternity ? What must it be 
 to the Christian who can say with Christ, My 
 kingdom is not of this world, and not on this 
 
252 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 earth is my home, but in the eternal dwelling- 
 place of God, in the high heavens, in my Father's 
 house ? 
 
 And yet (who can deny it ?) even in pious 
 Christians the thought of death and of the state 
 of the soul in the future life does not always 
 awaken such feelings as might be expected. 
 Sometimes it depresses the mind too much ; 
 sometimes it gives rise to an exaggerated con- 
 tempt for this earthly existence ; sometimes it 
 degenerates into fruitless meditations upon, and 
 inquiries into, the probable condition of the soul 
 after death, and leads to all kinds of delusions ; 
 sometimes it imbitters our best joys on earth. 
 
 Such ought not to be the effects of the thought 
 of eternity. In what manner, then, ought my 
 mind to be occupied with the subject? What 
 effect ought it to produce upon me ? 
 
 To every Christian the thought of eternity 
 should be as an intimate friend, whose presence 
 is not irksome, however frequently he may visit 
 him, and whose unexpected reappearance, after 
 long absence, would cause no surprise. 
 
 But if it is to be this, we must in reality first 
 endeavor to make ourselves quite familiar with it. 
 We must be intimately acquainted with it. We 
 must know what we have to fear or to hope from 
 it. Only an intimate friend is received with a 
 smiling welcome, whether he come often or come 
 seldom. 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 253 
 
 It is the Christian's duty, therefore, to make 
 the thought of the future life his constant com- 
 panion, and never to repel it when it approaches. 
 It will never be to him other than a reminder of 
 the eternal, unalterable destination, to which each 
 hour that, passes, each step we take, draws us so 
 much nearer. 
 
 Besides, we find the thought so frequently in 
 our path, that to evade it is almost impossible. 
 A fresh grave-mound in the churchyard, or a 
 withered flower; the news of a battle in which 
 thousands have fallen, or of the illness of an 
 acquaintance ; the walk we take to brace our ex- 
 hausted system, or our nightly retiring to sleep ; 
 the house in which we live, and in which others 
 have died ; or the remembrance of parents, hus- 
 band, or wife, children, sisters, and brothers, or 
 friends who have gone before us, — all these must 
 ever be leading to the thought of the mysterious 
 future beyond the grave. 
 
 Well, then, as the thought cannot remain a 
 stranger to us, let us make a familiar friend of 
 it ; let us endeavor to correct our ideas of eterni- 
 ty ; let us endeavor clearly to define what it will 
 be to us, and in what relation we stand to it. 
 
 Not that we ought to allow ourselves to in- 
 dulge in useless speculations as to the nature of 
 the future life, and the exact conditions to which 
 our souls will there be subject. It is not neces- 
 sary to do this in order to become familiar with 
 
254 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 the thought of eternity. Such inquiries can only 
 end in making the wise man feel the limits be- 
 yond which humanity cannot reach, the bounds 
 which his reason cannot overstep ; while the un- 
 wise will be led by them into mental delusions, 
 into groundless suppositions, and be .encouraged 
 in visionary tendencies, which may be dangerous 
 to the peace of weak minds, and which, in all 
 cases, must exercise an injurious influence on 
 thought and action, and also on physical health. 
 Millions of men have dwelt on the mysteries 
 of the future life before thee, O mortal ! without 
 succeeding in solving them. For the veil, which 
 the hand of God has drawn before that future, 
 is impenetrable. And no ponderings of thine 
 will enable thee to lift it, until God calls thee. 
 Desist, therefore, from senseless attempts to 
 throw light upon the nature of the soul in eter- 
 nity, upon its local habitation after leaving the 
 body, upon its occupations in the other life. 
 Heed not either the spoken or the written words 
 of those who have woven for themselves a web 
 of visionary delusions regarding these matters 
 which are hidden from human ken ; and who, 
 in their foolish presumption, have sometimes even 
 gone so far as to attempt to prove the correctness 
 of their views from the Holy Scriptures. Alas ! 
 how can they hope to penetrate the mysteries of 
 eternal life, whose weak mental sight does not 
 even suffice to comprehend the wonderful things 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 255 
 
 of this world, to fathom the mysterious laws of 
 creation, which they behold in action before their 
 eyes each day of their life ! How dare they 
 deem themselves wiser than the All-wise, who 
 has, not without good reason, enveloped the 
 future in this beneficent darkness ! How dare 
 they venture to measure their strength against 
 the strength of the Lord, whose hand has drawn 
 the curtain before the wonders of eternity ! 
 
 To become familiar with the thought of eter- 
 nity means, to remind ourselves as often as an 
 opportunity occurs, that we are born into ever- 
 lasting life ; that God's inexhaustible fatherly love 
 -is infinite, like the existence of our souls ; that the 
 hand which has already bestowed on us here on 
 earth so many joys and exquisite gratifications, 
 will not be less generous of its gifts when we 
 whave rendered ourselves worthy and capable of 
 still higher enjoyments ; that the mercy of the 
 almighty and all-loving Creator, which has from 
 the beginning of time ruled over the measureless 
 universe, and which has also called our souls from 
 nothingness into being, will continue so to rule 
 through all eternity; that if we have firm and 
 unwavering faith in Him, any fate that may be- 
 fall us, and thus also the change in death, must be 
 for our good, but that we can only feel secure of 
 a happier lot beyond the hour of death when we 
 have fitted ourselves for it; that the only way 
 to make ourselves worthy of it is by growing 
 
256 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 in goodness during this life, according to the ex- 
 ample of the Divine Jesus ; that as on earth our 
 happiness increases with our growth in wisdom 
 and virtue, so also will unutterable bliss be our 
 reward in eternity; that by neglecting our souls 
 in this life, and only satisfying those instincts and 
 desires which belong to the body, we condemn 
 ourselves to imperfection and to a grievous and 
 terrible fate after death ; that he who neglects 
 his soul here on earth, were he even to gain the 
 whole world, will be the poorest in the world of 
 spirits, where only spiritual treasures, not earthly 
 glories, have any value. 
 
 This is what the Holy Scriptures teach us. 
 This is what Jesus, the Saviour, the Judge of the 
 world, teaches, when he says, " And shall come 
 forth : they that have done good unto the resur- 
 rection of life ; and they that have done evil unto 
 the resurrection of damnation." (St. John v. 29.) 
 " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stead- 
 fast, immovable, always abounding in the work 
 of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your 
 labor is not in vain in the Lord." (1 Cor. xv. 
 58.) 
 
 If we join these considerations to the thought 
 of eternity, it will never occur to us without re- 
 calling the necessity of improving our minds and 
 dispositions. Each time our thoughts dwell upon 
 the solemn future will come the question : " But 
 have I done anything to merit a more glorious 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 257 
 
 existence on the other side of the grave ? Has 
 my soul sanctified itself through Jesus, so that I 
 may look forward joyfully to the lot that awaits 
 me there ? " 
 
 For to think of the eternal life hereafter, with- 
 out at the same time determining to qualify our- 
 selves for it, would be but self-delusion, dead faith. 
 But when it stimulates us to goodness and noble 
 action in this world, it is an angel that leads us on 
 in the ways of Jesus, in the ways of the Lord ; 
 and as we progress in amendment and perfection, 
 it will gradually become more and more to us a 
 thought full of quiet satisfaction, of heavenly calm. 
 
 It will then never awaken in us without calling 
 forth also thoughts of the beloved souls with 
 whom we held intercourse on earth, and who 
 have gone before us. We shall then never think 
 of eternity without a rapturous thrill at the re- 
 membrance of some departed friend who died in 
 youth, or of parents or children, or of a beloved 
 spouse, or of sisters and brothers. Ah ! will the 
 the highest, the infinite Love ; will God who is 
 love, — God, who united our souls so intimately 
 here on earth, — will he part us yonder ? Will 
 he sever souls whom he has created .for each 
 other, will he separate them hi heaven, " where 
 God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; 
 and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
 nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
 pain " ? (Rev. xxi. 4.) 
 
258 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 The thought of eternity will never awaken in 
 us without reminding us of our higher destination. 
 We cannot meditate on our future existence with- 
 out at the same time thinking of how fleeting and 
 perishable is everything here below. We shall 
 thus be led to contemplate with composure that 
 which previously caused us poignant grief, and to 
 feel more strongly than before that it is folly to 
 give ourselves up to never-ending regret for things 
 which were not given, but only lent to us. For 
 all that we possess, earn, or enjoy on earth does 
 not belong to us, but to the earth. We are only 
 allowed temporary use thereof. Nothing but the 
 increased perfection of the spirit, to reach which 
 all that we have enjoyed on earth was lent us as 
 a means, — nothing but this perfection, this in- 
 nate nobility of the spirit, can save the spirit, be- 
 cause, as part and parcel of its being, it can never 
 be separated from it, and because it belongs not 
 to the minute points in time and space which we 
 call life and earth, but to eternity. 
 But though the thought of eternity does and 
 ought to awaken in us the consciousness of the 
 nothingness of life, it ought not to render us indif- 
 ferent to ihe beauties and attractions of our pres- 
 ent existence. It ought not to fill us with melan- 
 choly and sadness, or with contempt of the world ; 
 but, on the contrary, to encourage us to a wise 
 and cheerful enjoyment of the blessings that God 
 in his goodness has bestowed upon us. Why, 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 259 
 
 indeed, should we despise a life which we have re- 
 ceived from the hand of a loving Creator ? Why- 
 should we contemn a world which God has 
 created and adorned with countless wonders ? 
 Would it not be very blameworthy if the child, 
 impatient to become wise and learned, were to 
 disdain the school in which alone knowledge could 
 be acquired ? What inconsistency ! you exclaim. 
 But we fall into an equally striking inconsistency 
 when we disdain or fear to enjoy the pleasures of 
 this life, because of our expectations of still greater 
 joys, which God will one day bestow. 
 
 O man ! small, insignificant plant as thou art, 
 put forth thy buds first, and develop thy leaves 
 and branches, if thou wouldst in time stand forth 
 a perfect tree. 
 
 Nay, the thought of eternity does not forbid 
 our enjoying this world and all the good that it 
 brings, but is, on the contrary, calculated to en- 
 courage such enjoyment. Instead of repelling us 
 from this life, it ought to bind us closer to it. For 
 here we are to prepare for the future ; — here 
 on earth, amid happiness and unhappiness, amid 
 flowers and thorns, is the school in which we are 
 to be formed for eternity. How deplorable is the 
 cowardice or the insanity of the self-murderer, 
 who, troubled by earthly cares, with presumptu- 
 ous hand bursts asunder the bonds which bind 
 him to this life, in the hope that he will meet a 
 happier lot in the other world ! Who appointed 
 
260 THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 
 
 his lot here below ? If lie prepared it for himself 
 by his own misdeeds, then how can he hope to be 
 in the next existence a higher, better, more per- 
 fect beino- than he was in this ? Or if God sent 
 him misfortunes to try him, why does he with- 
 draw from the guidance of his wise Creator and 
 Father ? Does he think that his wilfulness, his 
 pusillanimity, will work a change in the eternal 
 counsels of the All-wise ? Does he think that he 
 can escape from God and his divine guardian- 
 ship? 
 
 In full reliance on the guiding hand of his 
 Heavenly Father, and with unalterable faith in 
 the immortality of the spirit, as it has been re- 
 vealed to all men, the Christian will endeavor 
 to apply to the elevation and purification of his 
 soul whatever may befall him here on earth, -*- 
 whether he gain for himself friends, honors, 
 riches, or meet with hatred, poverty, and shame. 
 He will love this earth as the school in which he 
 is preparing to take his place in a higher rank. 
 He will contemplate without fear the termination 
 of life's journey. 
 
 " So when this corruptible shall have put on in • 
 corruption, and this mortal shall have put on im- 
 mortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying 
 that is written : Death is swallowed up in victory. 
 O death ! where is thy sting ? O grave ! where 
 is thy victory ? But, thanks be to God, who giv- 
 eth us the victory through our Lord Jesus ! " 
 
THE THOUGHT OF ETERNITY. 261 
 
 When once my spirit, freed from dust, 
 Shall to my Saviour whom I trust, — 
 
 To thee, my own Messiah, fly, 
 When once, mother earth ! this shell, 
 In which the immortal soul doth dwell, 
 
 Within thy parent lap shall lie; 
 
 What, then, is mine ? What bliss unbounded ! 
 With what bright world am I surrounded i 
 
 What ami? say, what shall I be 1 
 What streams of rapture through me flow. 
 Is 't I ? are these my limbs that glow 1 
 
 This Godlike splendor, is 't for me 1 
 I am transformed, released from dust,— 
 
 Whose throne is there ? Who calls me now ? 
 Ah ! it is God, in whom I trust, — 
 
 my Messiah, it is thou ! 
 
 Lord, thy truth, it faileth never. 
 Tor life renewed I thank thee ever. 
 
 1 shall not to thy judgment come, — 
 My foe subdued, in chains doth lie, — 
 Death 's swallowed up in victory. 
 
 And I, I rest not in the tomb. 
 Hail, Lord ! All honor, might, are thine. 
 
 Saviour ! from thee my life doth spring! 
 The angelic choir I haste to join, 
 
 And loudest hallelujahs sing. 
 
 «fe^?S 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 First Meditation. 
 
 GOING IN TO THE FATHER. 
 
 A house of clay thou buildest me, 
 
 Wherein my thoughts to treasure, 
 And with thy grace, my God, and thee, 
 
 To fill my faltering measure ; 
 And as I better know thy ways, 
 To exercise my heart in praise, 
 And by thy Spirit led, to prove 
 A deeper, and yet deeper love. 
 
 Never to die, — ne'er to die ! 
 My heart shall scorn and doubt defy 
 To rob it of its glorious faith 
 In a new life, surviving death. 
 Say I should die, — unto thy side 
 Thou, God, wilt be my faithful guide ; 
 My soul triumphant sounds the strain, — 
 Death is not loss, but endless gain. 
 
 (John xiv. 28.) 
 
 ORDINARY people are loath to think 
 of death, and yet there are so many 
 things that remind them of it ! They 
 ti^&s^l^ near deceased persons spoken of, or 
 meet a funeral procession, or learn that an ac- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 263 
 
 quaintance has been called away from this world, 
 or their thoughts revert to persons they have 
 loved, whose ashes are reposing in the earth ; and 
 in each case there is that which must remind 
 them that no exception to the general laws of 
 nature can be made in their favor. The man 
 who never thinks of the hour of death without 
 a shudder, sleeps away as gently as he who has 
 been longing for dissolution. And yet ordinary 
 people are loath to think of death and the grave. 
 This is very natural. Even were the innate love 
 of life not so intense as it is in every mortal, it 
 would not be surprising that he should recoil from 
 thoughts of death, as they are opposed to every- 
 thing that is most delightful in life. Death puts 
 an end to our hopes, destroys our favorite plans 
 and projects, cuts us off from our most cherished 
 habits, and with unbending and irresistible power 
 separates us from parents, children, and friends. 
 Alas ! it has already torn from us many of life's 
 best jewels. 
 
 " And if this be so, why should we, by frequent 
 thoughts of death and the grave, mar the few 
 pleasures we have in life ? Let us enjoy while 
 we can, without foolishly imbittering our own 
 lot." 
 
 Thus say many. Nay, there are many who 
 reproach the Christian religion with being gloomy 
 and austere, because it is ever reminding its fol- 
 lowers of the nothingness of life, and of death 
 and judgment. 
 
264 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 But, in truth, he who cannot think cheerfully 
 of death has probably never thought cheerfully 
 and rationally of life. To those to whom death 
 is a mysterious, and therefore repugnant image, 
 life itself can be little more than a confused rid- 
 dle ; for they cannot, as yet, have any clear 
 conception of the purpose of their existence. 
 The question as to our being or not being ra- 
 tional creatures does not so much depend upon 
 what it is pleasant to us to think, as upon what 
 we are by our nature compelled to think. But it 
 is religion that solves the enigma of life, and 
 thereby gives us the key to the mystery of death. 
 So far is true Christianity from depressing the 
 spirits and rendering men morose, that, on the 
 contrary, by the views of death which it incul- 
 cates it elevates its wise followers above every 
 grief, and above every fear, and enables them to 
 enjoy the manifold pleasures of life with imper- 
 turbable composure, whether their last hour be 
 nigh at hand or far off. If the religion of Jesus 
 in reality do this, what is there to find fault with ? 
 Why should we avoid thoughts which will, in 
 spite of all our endeavors, force themselves upon 
 us ? There is not a human being who has not 
 sustained some loss in the course of his life ; how 
 will he avoid being reminded of this ? It is life 
 itself, it is our hearts, that recall to us our painful 
 losses ; but it is religion that consoles us, and rec- 
 onciles us to them, by the exalted views which it 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 265 
 
 imparts of the divine universe and the divine 
 mode of action. 
 
 Which of your dear ones do you already count 
 among the dead? Perhaps a father, who was 
 your guardian angel on earth? Perhaps a 
 mother, who loved you above all others ? Per- 
 haps a brother, who walked by your side full of 
 youthful hopes ? Perhaps a sister, for whom you 
 felt as if she were your second self? Or if you 
 be father or mother, poor mourners, perhaps it is 
 a child, the sweetest blossom and hope of your 
 lives ? Or is it a noble-minded husband, or a 
 gentle, faithful, loving wife ? Which of these 
 cherished ones is it that you count among the 
 departed ? Whichever it may be, is the memory 
 of this lost one not dear to you, since you shud- 
 der at the thought of death when it steals upon 
 you in tranquil hours ? Your heart bled at your 
 painful loss, and the wound is not yet healed. 
 Alas ! there are wounds that never heal in this 
 life. It is a mistake to think that time cures all 
 wounds. But for those that it cannot cure, the 
 religion of Jesus Christ has a soothing balm. 
 
 It is possible that, in some quiet hour of enjoy- 
 ment, the thought of death and corruption may 
 suddenly fill you with a sensation of horror, and 
 that every fibre of your body may, as it were, 
 revolt against dissolution. Nay, so overwhelmed 
 may you be by the terrible thought, that it may 
 seem to you better that you should never have 
 12 
 
266 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 received life, than to be obliged to yield it up 
 again. But these painful feelings are not caused 
 by the melancholy views inspired by religion, but 
 by your own innate love of life.* Christianity, on 
 the contrary, chases away all fear of death, by 
 allowing us to cast a glance into a future beyond 
 the grave, where life, activity, and joy prevail, as 
 they do here. 
 
 Do you think that the Saviour, the Light of the 
 world, came in vain to reassure us as to our im- 
 mortality, and our ultimate destiny ? And how 
 does he describe death ? He who had more ter- 
 rible experience of its horrors than any mortal, 
 doomed as he was to die in the full prime of his 
 strength and years, in the possession of unimpaired 
 health, with the consciousness of spotless inno- 
 cence, and to die the death of a criminal? He 
 called it going in to the Father ! 
 
 And with him every Christian says, with truth, 
 to die is to go in to the Father, for Jesus' Father 
 is also our Father. The Creator of the Seraphim, 
 as of the lowliest zoophyte, is also our Creator. 
 
 What a cheerful conception is not that of our 
 departure from this earth as a going in to the 
 Father ! 
 
 We ought at all times to speak of our own and 
 our friends' demise in these terms ; then death, 
 which the excited imagination of timid men has 
 presented to us under the form of a hideous skele- 
 ton, would appear as a friendly spirit, come to 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 267 
 
 help us across the boundaries of life, and to usher 
 us into the Father's presence. In reality, many 
 of the terrors with which death is invested, and 
 of the false notions concerning it which prevail, 
 originate in the erroneous and revolting designa- 
 tions which have been given to it. Thus some- 
 times it is called decay and corruption ; but we do 
 not decay, nor are we given up to corruption. 
 At other times, to die is to leave the world ; but 
 we never leave the world, because this is in itself 
 impossible. At other times, again, death is termed 
 destruction ; but we cannot be destroyed. No ; 
 to die is to go in to the Father ; our souls merely 
 cast off their unsuitable garments to clothe them- 
 selves in worthier raiment. 
 
 The shudder caused by the images in which we 
 speak of death is owing to their being borrowed 
 from the condition of the soulless body, and their 
 being consequently false. Every other false con- 
 ception is in like manner repugnant to us, because 
 of its being at variance with the laws of reason, 
 while imagination endeavors in vain to make that 
 which is unreasonable conceivable. 
 
 The condition of the corpse in the grave is not 
 our condition, but merely that of the covering 
 which we have cast off. When we cut our hair 
 with a pair of scissors, is that which is taken off, 
 and which is thrown away, part of ourselves ? 
 Nay, how little does this separation affect us ! 
 When the warrior loses a limb in battle, and sees 
 
268 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 it consigned to the earth, does he feel that the 
 condition of this limb forms part of his own state ? 
 Nay, the limb decays, but he feels it not. He 
 still exists, and is conscious of being something 
 quite distinct from that which is capable of cor- 
 ruption. 
 
 And what is our earthly coil to us ? It is but 
 the worn-out or damaged raiment of the immortal 
 spirit. Why do we not shudder every day of our 
 lives at the decay of our bodies, for, in truth, they 
 do decay daily? According to the observations 
 of profound thinkers and physicians, the body of 
 a man undergoes a total change several times in 
 the course of a moderately long life, so that as 
 youths and maidens we no longer bear the same 
 body, the same flesh and blood, as in childhood; 
 and in old age again, the body is almost entirely 
 a different one from that possessed in manhood. 
 But we are not aware of these transformations, 
 because they take place through means of imper- 
 ceptible, natural processes. Is it, then, reasonable 
 to conclude that the final transformation, whereby 
 we are entirely separated from the coarse earthly 
 covering that invests us here, will be perceptible 
 to ourselves ? Has any one ever been able to 
 observe, as regards himself, the gentle merging of 
 the waking state into sleep ? How many persons 
 have not died with such full consciousness that 
 death was approaching, that they have seemed 
 narrowly to observe themselves during the won- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 269 
 
 derful transition. There are even instances of 
 their having been able to prognosticate — we 
 know not by what means — the precise moment 
 of their dissolution, and their prognostications 
 have been pretty exactly borne out by the event. 
 But were any of these persons, who so calmly 
 departed, ever known to show signs of pain or 
 aversion while the gradual withdrawal of the soul 
 from the body was taking place ? Indeed, even 
 those who have departed amid sufferings caused 
 by the disturbance of the inward functions of the 
 body, ceased to experience pain when the sweet 
 moment of the final disseverance drew nigh. 
 
 Away, then, with all repugnant images of death, 
 borrowed from the empty, cast-off garment of the 
 soul, which is resolved again into dust and ashes. 
 This garment is not our real self. Our real self is 
 immortal. All nature, as well as the revelations 
 which we have received through Jesus, whom 
 the Father sent, and who returned to the Father, 
 teaches us this. Without this faith, — which is, 
 indeed, more than faith, for it is a beautiful and 
 deep-seated sentiment of the soul, a law of the 
 spirit, — God would not be God, the world would 
 be no world, reason would not be reason, and all 
 our thinking and planning would be but the idle 
 dreams of madness. 
 
 Before the early inhabitants of the world — 
 then so much nearer the first days of creation 
 than now — knew how to build cities, to manu- 
 
270 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 facture weapons, and to weave clothes for them- 
 selves, they were already familiar with the idea 
 of the existence of a supreme, almighty, and be- 
 neficent Being, and had the consciousness of their 
 own immortality. And thousands and thousands 
 of years will still pass over this terrestrial globe ; 
 every spot on its surface will be changed ; where 
 now are deserts, mighty cities may rise in their 
 pride ; and cities, in which kings and emperors 
 are now enthroned in pomp and splendor, may be 
 converted into deserts, in winch hardly a ruin 
 survives to tell of what has been. But the con- 
 sciousness of their own immortality, and of the 
 existence of God, is as little likely to change in 
 the generations of men, as the laws of nature, by 
 which the universe is sustained, are likely to be 
 destroyed. If there have at any time been mor- 
 tals who have doubted, or who have even denied, 
 the immortality of their own souls, such persons 
 have always been looked upon as diseased in 
 mind, or as making a false use of their mental 
 powers by giving themselves up to insane spec- 
 ulations. 
 
 Some philosophers have attempted to demon- 
 strate the inextinguishable belief of man in the 
 continuance of his own existence, by words and 
 arguments, in the same manner as self-created 
 conceptions and calculations are demonstrated. 
 But immortality is not a self-created conception, 
 an idea invented by man, as it were, but a bloom- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 271 
 
 ing forth, or a development of the thinking being ; 
 and we can as little prove it in words, as we can 
 prove that we have the consciousness of our pres- 
 ent existence. It is enough that we are, and that 
 we have the consciousness of our being. Through 
 this consciousness alone is every other idea ren- 
 dered possible. 
 
 But, in reality, men are much less anxious to 
 discover so-called proofs of their immortality, 
 (which are, after all, superfluous because of 
 their intuitive belief in it,) than they are to as- 
 certain of what nature will be the existence of the 
 spirit hereafter ; what will be its fate and its feel- 
 ings after the separation from the body ; what 
 may be that which we call eternity. 
 
 Human curiosity loves to hover round the mys- 
 teries of the future state of the soul, and many 
 dreamy visions have been indulged in concerning 
 life hereafter. This curiosity is natural and par- 
 donable. It has its source in our innate love of 
 life, and our consciousness of immortality. But 
 we ought never to forget, that as human crea- 
 tures, who have but five very imperfect senses, 
 through means of which we can acquire knowl- 
 edge of the universe, we occupy as yet a very 
 low place in the infinite scale of beings ; and that, 
 therefore, it is as impossible for us to form a con- 
 ception of what our spirit will be, and will know, 
 when placed amid totally different circumstances, 
 as it is for a man born blind to conceive what he 
 
272 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 would be, and would see, were a new sense — - 
 i. e. sisht — to be vouchsafed to him, and all the 
 influences of the universe were in consequence 
 to rush in upon him through a hitherto unknown 
 portal of the mind. We must not forget that 
 just as impossible as it is for the human spirit, 
 here on earth, to know itself and its essence, 
 just as impossible is it that it should be able 
 to know what, according to the nature of its 
 essence, it will be when the dark veil is raised 
 which covered it here on earth in the form of 
 a body. 
 
 We have received revelations through Jesus, 
 whom God sent to the human race, and these 
 revelations are expressed in terms adapted to 
 the powers of comprehension possessed by man. 
 Without being a disembodied spirit already dwell- 
 ing in eternity, it is impossible to form correct 
 conceptions of that which lies beyond the hour 
 of transformation. Jesus, however, spoke of 
 death as a going in to the Father, a union with the 
 Deity. He gave us the assurance of meeting 
 again in eternity. He promised to the more per- 
 fect spirits unutterable bliss, and to sinners stern 
 and just retribution. 
 
 Ah ! this must suffice for us ; it is enough to 
 know God's omnipotence and almighty love on 
 earth, and in this to feel full assurance as to the 
 future, and even heavenly rapture. For this love, 
 so almighty already here on earth, and so clearly 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 273 
 
 manifested eacli day that passes over us ; this love 
 revealed to us by Jesus, and also by nature, will 
 it cease when the breath and the blood in our 
 bodies cease their action ? Would that be a love 
 worthy of the Eternal Being, the Universal Fa- 
 ther, towards his creatures, which should be dis- 
 continued after the lapse of a few brief moments ? 
 No ; God, whom I am forced to conceive as In- 
 finite Perfection, whom I worship as such in the 
 smallest as in the greatest of his creations, — God 
 is as undeniably an eternal, loving, watchful Fa- 
 ther, ever bestowing happiness on his children, as 
 he is in himself eternal, and as I am a creation 
 of his love ; and in our Father's house there are 
 many mansions. 
 
 But to what he has called me, whither he will 
 one day transport me, what I shall then be, — 
 that I shall never fathom here on earth. But in 
 like manner as we perceive (I can hardly say un- 
 derstand) here on earth already the majesty of 
 the loving and almighty One in his wonderful 
 works, so also we can form a vague conception 
 of the future in the present. In the universe, as 
 we perceive it now, we see a reflection of the 
 glory of which we shall once be partakers. In 
 time, we find indications of eternity. The more 
 we study the creations of the Father of the uni- 
 verse as they appear to us on this side the grave, 
 the greater number of signs of eternity do we 
 discover, the greater number of foreshadowings 
 
 12* R 
 
274 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 of what the creations of the Lord after death 
 may be. 
 
 He who knows God can feel no alarm at the 
 thought of the hour of departure from this earth- 
 ly existence. And the more we convince oar- 
 selves, through the study of his works, of the 
 wisdom, the power, and the love of the Father, 
 — how imperishable, how conformable to their 
 end, how perfectly organized, are all his crea- 
 tions, — the more inwardly assured we shall feel 
 that his unalterable wisdom, power, and love, dif- 
 fused throughout the immeasurable universe, will 
 at all times and in all places encompass our spirits, 
 and that wherever they be, they will be of his 
 blessed kingdom. 
 
 He who knows the world, the illimitable, eter- 
 nal world, does not feel alarm at the departure 
 from this earth, which is but as a grain of sand 
 when compared to the infinite universe. But he 
 has but a very feeble conception of the greatness 
 of God who believes this earth which we inhabit 
 to be the centre of his glorious creation, round 
 which revolve all the suns and the planets of the 
 universe. Alas ! the observations of astronomers 
 make it more than probable, that we and our 
 earth, far from beino; in the centre of the uni- 
 verse, are placed in the outer circle of innumera- 
 ble world-systems ; and that hence it is, that 
 whereas the rest of creation appears to us in all 
 its sublime regularity and order, the starry heav- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 275 
 
 ens, on the contrary, present to onr eyes an ap- 
 pearance of confusion, — the innumerable worlds, 
 that beam upon us as distant stars, being thinly 
 scattered over the expanse in one direction, and 
 in another densely crowded together. If the 
 star which we inhabit occupied a more elevated 
 or a more depressed position in the choir of glo- 
 rious spheres, the spectacle presented by the 
 star-bespangled heavens would probably exhibit to 
 our eyes the same wonderful regularity and order 
 that strike us in the rest of creation. Thus, to 
 a person placed in an unfavorable position on the 
 outside of a regularly planted grove, the trees 
 may seem placed without any attention to order 
 or system, and may appear to him to form a con- 
 fused labyrinth ; whereas, if placed in the centre, 
 or any other favorable point of observation, he 
 will instantly perceive the beautiful regularity of 
 the plantations. 
 
 He who has any knowledge of the universe, 
 knows that in the great totality of things there 
 is not an atom that does not endure forever, — 
 that the whole is but a wide-spread realm of 
 the most manifold forces. These forces endure, 
 though the phenomena under which they pre- 
 sent themselves change. The human spirit is a 
 force in this sense. Its effects, i. e. its thoughts, 
 its wishes, its utterances, change and are perish- 
 able ; but the spirit itself does not perish with the 
 words it utters. Light is not diminished by the 
 
276 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 rays emitted by it. It is said that flowers are 
 evanescent, and they are so, because they are but 
 phenomena of eternally present original forces. 
 But though the flowers vanish, the forces, which 
 represent their elementary principle, do not cease 
 to exist in the universe. 
 
 And there is one great all-pervading law which 
 I recognize in the universe of God. It is this : 
 Everything is resolved into elements similar to itself. 
 Water sends up vapors which gather into clouds 
 in the sides ; and these fall again as dew and 
 rain, and again form bodies of water. Flowers, 
 animals, the human body, all these having sprung 
 from the earth, and having been nourished with 
 earthlv substances, in time return to earth. 
 
 Now, just as the unconscious forces or sub- 
 stances, after going through a variety of combi- 
 nations, return to their original families, so will 
 the self-conscious forces, the rational beings, the 
 spirits who conceive God, return again to their 
 original spiritual family. According to the all- 
 pervading law of God in nature, my body will 
 in death return to earth, but my spirit will soar 
 up to its original home. Is not this universal law 
 of nature a sign from eternity ? Have I under- 
 stood it correctly? Have I understood rightly 
 what thou didst mean, O Jesus, my Divine En- 
 lightener, when speaking to thy beloved disciples 
 of thy approaching death, and endeavoring to 
 prepare them for the heavy trial, thou saidst : 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 277 
 
 "If ye loved me, ye would rejoice that I have 
 said I go to the Father ; for the Father is greater 
 than I ! " 
 
 O, when my time comes, and the angel of 
 peace from the better world, whom we call death, 
 kisses me and bears me away from earth, then do 
 not weep, O my beloved ones ! for I also shall 
 then have gone in to my Father ! Weep not 
 for my cast-off earthly coil, for I also shall have 
 rejoined my original family in my true home, 
 in the beautiful world of blessed, self-conscious 
 spirits. I shall have gone home to the beloved 
 ones, the eternally beloved, the never-forgotten 
 ones, whom I had lost here below, and for whom 
 I so often pined. Weep not, for ye have no 
 reason to weep, as little as I had to grieve for 
 those who went in to glory before me. Yonder 
 are all those to whom my heart cleaved, the cost- 
 liest jewels of my life ; yonder are those to whom 
 the Father bound me by ties of unalterable love ; 
 yonder is Jesus, and yonder is God, to whom I 
 come through Jesus ! Weep not ! to you also 
 will come the happy moment when you shall go 
 hi to the Father ! Round the lips of your corpse 
 also will hover, to the consolation of those you 
 leave behind, the smile of joyful trust with which 
 you have hastened into the better world ! Not 
 here, but yonder, is our home, our true life ! 
 Blessed are you and I, for there is no death, only 
 a going in to the Father ! 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Second Meditation. 
 
 THE FUTURE LIFE. 
 
 Father, my heart exults itself in this : 
 
 That thou hast not created me for naught ! 
 Such happiness is mine, — with so much bliss 
 
 Even this transient dream of life is fraught, — 
 How little is it that mine eyes can see 
 Here, my God ! or understand of thee, 
 Yet e'en that little is great joy to me 
 
 My life may vanish from this earthly sphere 
 More swiftly than an idle dream of night ; 
 
 I know I am immortal, and that there 
 
 Mine eyes shall ope more clearly to the light. 
 
 Thee shall I see, my Father, as thou art ; 
 
 And there my joy, which now is but in part, 
 
 Endless and perfected, shall fill my heart. 
 
 (Matthew xxii. 29, 30.) 
 
 HE consciousness of the immortality 
 of the soul dates from the beginning 
 of the human race. Therefore this 
 '4* conviction is found to exist even 
 among- the most savage tribes in the most distant 
 countries, whither no ray of revealed religion, or 
 of Western or Eastern enlightenment, has ever 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 279 
 
 penetrated. Thus, from the beginning of crea- 
 tion, there has been but one voice, one hope, one 
 aspiration, in regard to eternity. And it was 
 the Deity himself who, in creating self-conscious 
 spirits, implanted in them this intuitive faith. 
 Now the infinite perfection of God cannot im- 
 part delusions. And why should it impart delu- 
 sions, when it holds in its hand the unbounded 
 realm of realities ? 
 
 But though perfect agreement exist throughout 
 the human race as to the belief that the higher, 
 self-conscious power that animates the body does 
 not cease to exist when the animal or corporeal 
 life becomes extinct, the notions formed by the 
 nations of the world as to the nature of the future 
 life vary much. For these notions naturally dif- 
 fer according to the degree of mental develop- 
 ment, and the amount of experience and of knowl- 
 edge of God's works possessed by men at various 
 periods and in different parts of the globe. Thus, 
 for instance, in early times, before voyages round 
 the world and scientific observation had proved 
 that our earth is a globe, floating freely in space, 
 and revolving daily on its own axis, and yearly 
 round the sun, it was believed that the dwelling- 
 place of the condemned souls was situated under 
 the earth, and that there they were tortured by 
 means of the flames which were sometimes seen 
 to issue from volcanoes. In the present day 
 every child in our schools knows that our earth 
 
280 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 is surrounded on all sides by the heavens, and that 
 it is only one of the smaller bodies which move in 
 regular orbits through infinite space. Before men 
 were enabled by means of the telescope to deter- 
 mine the magnitudes, distances, and orbits of the 
 stars nearest to our globe, all the celestial lights 
 were believed to be equally distant from us, and 
 beyond these were located the abodes of the 
 blessed, where they were supposed to revel in 
 joys and occupations as sensual as those on earth. 
 In the present day, every child at school also 
 knows that each star is a world, and that the 
 universe is an infinity of worlds. 
 
 Every people and every religious sect have 
 thus had notions of their own as to the abodes of 
 the blessed and of the lost spirits, just as at all 
 times the child and the sage entertain very dif- 
 ferent views of one and the same object. 
 
 When Jesus Christ first appeared among the 
 Jewish people and began to teach, he found the 
 professors of the Mosaic religion divided into 
 several sects. For instance, the Essenes, who led 
 a very strict and secluded life, and ascribed the 
 greatest importance to pious actions and absti- 
 nence from all sensual gratifications ; the Phari- 
 sees, who, on the contrary, placed great value on 
 outward religious ceremonies, and exacted the 
 most rigid observance of the doctrines and rules 
 laid down by Moses, or handed down by tradition, 
 and who were held in highest estimation among the 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 281 
 
 people ; and the Saclducees, who rejected all oral 
 tradition, and denied many of the doctrines taught 
 by the Pharisees, among others, that of the res- 
 urrection of the dead. One day, when convers- 
 ing with Jesus, the Sadducees, either with a view 
 to satisfy then* own doubts, or in the hope of con- 
 founding him, supposed certain earthly and social 
 relations to be carried over into the future life, 
 and then put questions regarding them, and ex- 
 pressed the misgivings of their minds on the sub- 
 ject. If a woman marry seven men in this life, 
 whose wife shall she be in eternity ? asked they. 
 Jesus answered and said unto them, " Ye do err, 
 not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of 
 God. For in the resurrection they neither mar- 
 ry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the an- 
 gels of God in heaven." (Matt. xxii. 29, 30.) 
 
 Similar to these doubts of the Sadducees are 
 the strange reasons which people deduce from 
 every-day life, and with which they disturb their 
 own minds in regard to the condition of the soul 
 after death. The hand, which can feel, but can- 
 not hear, might be inclined to deny the rolling of 
 the thunder, because it could not form a concep- 
 tion of it; yet the ear hears the thunder, and 
 knows that it exists. 
 
 Thus many persons ask, Shall we retain con- 
 sciousness and memory when we change our 
 body? For if not, though our spirit may con- 
 tinue to exist, this continued existence, without 
 
282 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 consciousness or memory of the past, will be tan- 
 tamount to a life as new as if it were then for the 
 first time introduced into the world, and death 
 must in consequence be looked upon as a kind of 
 annihilation. 
 
 These doubts, like those of the Sadducees, arise 
 out of the circumstances and events of this earthly 
 life. Comparison is made between the state of 
 the soul after death and its condition during sleep 
 or syncope, when it is unconscious of, or does 
 not remember, what has been done to the body. 
 And this is sufficient to cause uneasiness. 
 
 O ye of little faith, let me repeat to you Jesus' 
 words, " Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures, 
 nor the power of God " ! 
 
 Can we, with any show of reason, make com- 
 parisons between things quite dissimilar, or even 
 diametrically opposed to each other ? Or be- 
 tween things, one of which we only know par- 
 tially, and the other of which we know not at all ? 
 Between the spirit still held in earthly bonds, and 
 the self-dependent spirit emancipated from these ? 
 How the spirit acts on the body we know only in 
 part ; how it will appear when in the enjoyment 
 of full freedom, and unfettered by the dust which 
 now clings to it, we know not at all. 
 
 Sleep and syncope are therefore poor compari- 
 sons as regards the condition of the soul after its 
 separation from the body. It is true we know 
 nothing of what happens to us during sleep or 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 283 
 
 syncope, and we remember naught of what has 
 taken place. This is not, however, owing to the 
 spirit having ceased to exist during the interval, 
 but to the senses having become incapable of re- 
 ceiving outward impressions, and of providing for 
 the thinking power. When we close our eyes, we 
 do not see, but the spirit nevertheless continues 
 its inward life and activity. When sleep or syn- 
 cope close all the senses, so that no impressions 
 can be conveyed through them, the spirit is not the 
 less alive and active, although it knows naught of 
 what is going on without, in the world of sense. 
 What surprising and wonderful evidence of this is 
 not afforded by so-called sleep-walkers ! Or has 
 it not happened to all of us, at one time or an- 
 other, to awaken out of a deep sleep without hav- 
 ing any recollection whatsoever of having dreamt, 
 (although our souls must have been active during 
 the interval,) because the lively impressions re- 
 ceived from without on awaking have thrown 
 back the images of the dream into the shade, until 
 suddenly they are recalled to our mind, and we 
 become convinced that we have had ideas even in 
 sleep ? 
 
 Thus the soul of the dying man likewise contin- 
 ues to live and to be active ; but as his senses are 
 gradually closing, he also becomes unconscious of 
 what is going on in the outer world. The spirit 
 of the dying man does not perceive death, because 
 its own life continues as before. It knows naught 
 
 S3 
 
284 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 of the bed of death, of the sorrowing relatives 
 who stand around it, for impressions from the 
 outer world no longer come to it through the ex- 
 tinguished senses. But when the condition be- 
 gins, in which, separated from the dust, from flesh 
 and blood and nerves, it lives in its self-depend- 
 ent purity, — then all points of comparison fail us. 
 The force continues its activity, conscious of its 
 being, and God indicates to it the new path it 
 has to follow. The past and the present must 
 be one to the glorified soul, — for it saw not 
 death, it remained as before, a self-conscious 
 power. It enters into new combinations. It 
 goes in to the Father. Its lot is, as the re- 
 vealed word tells us, — Glorification. 
 
 " Ye know not the power of God," said Jesus 
 to the sceptical Sadducees. What mortal, indeed, 
 knows the majesty, the boundless nature of this 
 power of God, which is everywhere present in 
 the infinite universe ? But so much do we know, 
 that whatever God has ordained in his kino;dom is 
 sublime, magnificent, wonderful, bliss-inspiring, 
 and wise, — in that realm there is nothing petty, 
 nothing defective, nothing superfluous, nothing 
 ignoble ! And surely the entrance of the soul 
 into the state of original purity, and emancipation 
 from the fetters of earth, will not be less solemn 
 than is, here below even, every impression re- 
 ceived of the glory of the Father of the universe. 
 
 The emancipation of the soul from its frail 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 285 
 
 earthly shell is the triumph of the spiritual power 
 over the dead forces of nature. No fine-spun 
 arguments and interpretations will help us here : 
 before the power of God our boldest fancies fail, 
 and the most extensive knowledge seeks in vain 
 the limits of his infinite might. Any picture we 
 may form to ourselves of the state of the eman- 
 cipated and glorified soul cannot be otherwise 
 than mean, foolish, derogatory, for it must be 
 borrowed from things that are as little compar- 
 able to the glory of the heavens as a drop of dew 
 is to the wondrous ocean. 
 
 Ye know not the power of God ; ye know not 
 what career it has opened to the emancipated 
 soul ; ye know not in what new raiment this soul 
 may possibly be veiled when it hastens towards 
 him, towards the Father ; ye know not what new 
 views of the universe may burst upon it at the 
 moment of the great change in its condition. In 
 like manner as a world inhabited exclusively by 
 persons born blind, would have no language to 
 express the varied beauties of color and form, the 
 brightness of the heavens, or the blue tints of 
 distance, so do we lack the faculty to comprehend, 
 and the means to describe, the phenomena of the 
 future life. Indeed, our language and imagery 
 in a great measure contribute to obscure that 
 which might be clear to us even here on earth, 
 and give us confused notions of that which is in 
 itself perfectly simple. Thus the expressions 
 
286 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 u 
 
 eternity," and "beyond the grave," are mis- 
 understood by many. People frequently picture 
 to themselves, in connection with these terms, 
 something quite separate from our time, and ex- 
 isting entirely by itself; something that is, as it 
 were, to come. But eternity does not only belong 
 to the future, it is already here. We are all liv- 
 ing in eternity, for we live in God, and God is 
 eternal. The short dream of our terrestrial life, 
 this short section of eternal being, we call time. 
 Time is, however, comprised in eternity, just as 
 our globe is comprised in the infinite heavens. 
 Earth and heaven, time and eternity, are one. 
 We are already living in our Father's house here 
 on earth ; but we have not reached the higher 
 grades of perfection, and are not yet there where 
 the glory of God can appear to us in full efful- 
 gence. Thither we must be conducted by the 
 angel of the better world, whom we call death. 
 
 We live, but our beloved ones who have died 
 also live ; we stand weeping on this globe floating 
 in infinite space, but our glorified dear ones are, 
 like ourselves, in God's world ; we are here, — 
 but they are perhaps in an infinitely more beauti- 
 ful world ; we are limited by our bodies, — they 
 probably enjoy greater freedom and bliss. Now 
 what is it to die ? It is generally said to be a 
 passing into eternity; but here already we are 
 dwelling in eternity. It is a transition from the 
 finite earthly relations into a higher, more blissful, 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 287 
 
 to us incomprehensible, state ; it is a change into 
 a new mansion of the Father of all ; it is the ex- 
 change from a place in a cradle into a place on 
 the bosom of the Father. How differently does 
 not death now appear to us ! It is not annihila- 
 tion, but completion ; not cessation, but continua- 
 tion. The loved ones whose loss I lament are 
 still in existence ; they are living with me at this 
 very time ; they are, like myself, dwelling in the 
 great paternal mansion of God ; they still belong 
 to me as I to them. We are not separated. No 
 time lies between us ; for I, like they, dwell in 
 eternity, rest in the arms of God. As they are 
 ever in my thoughts, so, perhaps, am I in theirs. 
 As I mourn for their loss, perhaps they rejoice 
 in anticipation of our reunion. What to me is 
 still dark, they see clearly. Why do I grieve 
 because I can no longer enjoy their society ? 
 During their lifetime I was not discontented be- 
 cause I could not always have them around me. 
 If a journey took them from me, I -was not there- 
 fore unhappy. And why is it different now ? 
 They have gone on a journey. Whether they 
 are living on earth in a far distant city, or in some 
 higher world in the infinite universe of God, 
 what difference is there ? Are we not still in the 
 same house of the Father, like loving brothers 
 who inhabit separate rooms ? Have we therefore 
 ceased to be brothers ? 
 
 Ah, let us not weep for the dead ; their blessed 
 
288 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 spirits can experience no pain. Perhaps they, 
 being more exalted, more perfect than we, and 
 possessing a clearer knowledge of the fatherly 
 love of God, only feel a kind of tender compas- 
 sion for our ignorance. Perhaps they were un- 
 willing to die, but were torn from our arms against 
 their desire. God willed it, and the change took 
 place. In their glorified state, they bless the 
 Fatherly Hand that guided them into the higher 
 world, and the love which knew better than they 
 did what was conducive to their happiness. Per- 
 haps the past seems to them as a dream, the 
 recollection of which was hardly worth retaining. 
 The soul, the self-conscious element in the human 
 body, may possibly, when parting from the uncon- 
 scious earthly elements of that body, retain a 
 remembrance of the past. We know too little 
 of the nature of the spirit to deny this, but per- 
 haps the recollections of its earthly existence are 
 its most insignificant possessions. Here, on earth 
 even, the present is of far more importance to us 
 than our recollections of the past. Much of what 
 we have experienced seems to us hardly worthy 
 of a place in the memory, and we forget it. 
 Many of our experiences, indeed, we would be 
 glad to obliterate from our minds. The present 
 moment is always the one most fraught with 
 enjoyment, yet we are ever striving towards the 
 future. Can we suppose it to be otherwise with 
 the blessed spirits ? Perhaps the memory of their 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 289 
 
 former imperfect state would be humiliating and 
 painful to them amid the lustre of their more 
 perfect condition. If we, who are living at this 
 moment upon the earth, had existed previously 
 somewhere in the great universe, but in a very 
 inferior condition, suppose in that of an animal ; 
 would not the memory of this our animal condi- 
 tion be humiliating and repugnant to us after 
 havino; attained the status of human beings ? 
 Would we regret having lost all knowledge of 
 our former degraded state ? And may not the 
 condition of the higher beings be, in comparison 
 to that of man, what ours is in comparison to that 
 of the animals ? One remembrance, however, 
 there is, which remains dear to us mortals even 
 at the most advanced age, — that is, the remem- 
 brance of friends and persons to whom we have 
 been devotedly attached. The old man still recol- 
 lects with delight the companion of his youth, 
 the friend with whom he passed many a happy 
 hour. He may forget everything else, but objects 
 of his affection he does not forget. 
 
 Love is one of the attributes which in some 
 degree assimilate mortals to the more perfect be- 
 ings ; and this attribute can never be lost, for it 
 belongs to the nature of the spirit. God also 
 loves, but in a far higher sense than we. The 
 entire creation bears witness to this. It is true 
 that the sexual instinct and habit seem to engen- 
 der some feeling like love in animals also ; but 
 
 13 s 
 
290 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 in them it is but transitory, — it is a shadow that 
 deludes us. But God, who loves infinitely more 
 deeply and more purely than man, — God, who 
 has diffused the sentiment of love throughout 
 creation, from its highest degree of perfection 
 down to its almost imperceptible appearance in 
 the mutual attractions of the plants, — God who, 
 through love, has bound his creatures to each 
 other and to himself, — would he destroy this 
 love, this divine power in the glorified soul, at 
 the very moment that he called it into a more 
 perfect existence ? No ; that which is Divine is 
 eternal/ Imperfect man cannot be more perfect 
 than the higher spirits who stand nearer to the 
 Father than we ; and though we mortals may lose 
 the recollection of many things, our love for the 
 objects of our affection we carry with us to the 
 grave. In like manner, though a thousand mem- 
 ories may be lost with the mouldering dust of the 
 body, the memory of God, the memory of the 
 creatures of God whom we love, must accompany 
 the soul into the blessed regions. God did not 
 create spirits, and endow them with a knowledge 
 of himself, in order to allow them to forget him 
 again after a brief space. He did not unite souls 
 by the spiritual bonds of love, to separate them 
 again forever. That which the most cruel human 
 being would recoil from, God, who has stamped 
 the impress of his love on every marvel of the 
 creation, cannot will to do. And therefore the 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 291 
 
 bond that united us in life, O my beloved ! cannot 
 have been dissevered by the death of the body. 
 I still belong to you, though you are living in 
 some other mansion in our Heavenly Father's 
 house. 
 
 I shall continue to love you until my heart also 
 ceases to beat. And you, — nay, you cannot 
 have forgotten me, for God is the God of love, 
 and I must still live in your memory, and in your 
 holy state you must yearn for me ! You who, 
 dwelling in a higher world, see the greatness of 
 God in all its wonderful sublimity, you now feel 
 for me a more exalted love than I can feel for 
 you. Alas ! mine is still mingled with tears ; 
 yours knows only rapturous delight. I lift my 
 eyes with sadness to the stars, seeking the home 
 in which your spirits dwell ; you look down with 
 a happy smile upon this planet where I sojourn, 
 lonely in the dust, and in secret breathe forth 
 your names with many a sigh ! 
 
 The mutual love of souls is eternal, like the 
 souls themselves ; eternal, like God and his love. 
 It is true, all earthly ties are dissolved between 
 the living and the departed spirits, but our spirit- 
 ual brotherhood in God continues, and God is the 
 Father of all. In the better world we shall all 
 be equal, as the angels and the higher powers and 
 forces in the creation are equal. 
 
 That which belongs to the body, dies with the 
 body. The spiritual alone endures. The power, 
 
292 IXTERPRETATIOXS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 the faculty of growing in perfection alone con- 
 tinues. Our relations must be of a different 
 nature in heaven to what they were on earth, 
 for they must be purified and spiritualized ; but 
 how, we cannot imagine. The occupations of the 
 blessed spirits in the next world we are equally 
 incapable of conceiving. Most assuredly they 
 are neither the same as on earth, nor similar to 
 them ; and everything that has been said on the 
 subject by presumptuous men is nothing more 
 than idle dreams. We know not how the spirit 
 works in a disembodied state, nor do we know 
 how, when by the almighty power of God it is 
 clothed in more beautiful raiment, it will act 
 through this. For who knows the power of God ? 
 But this much we do know, and a thrill of hap- 
 piness passes through the longing soul at the 
 thought ; the loved ones who died here on earth 
 still live in a more exalted state. That which has 
 once been present is still present in the universe, 
 and that winch has once lived, still lives. For 
 " God is not the God of the dead, but of the 
 living." (Matt. xxii. 32.) 
 
 What ecstasy seizes me at this thought, the 
 truth of which is so clear, so simple, but which 
 only now beams upon me in all its fulness ! 
 Where am I ? On this little planet, the earth, 
 it is true ; but with it I float in the infinite uni- 
 verse, and in time eternal ! Where am I ? With 
 thee, O Father ! O God ! Even on this earth I 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 293 
 
 am with thee, and I behold thee, through the 
 veil of thy wondrous creation in like manner as 
 my soul beholds itself through its earthly veil, the 
 body. What a glory diffuses itself over all those 
 earthly relations which thou hast appointed for 
 me ! The starry heavens become more sacred 
 in my eves, — I seem to behold up yonder the 
 mansions of my beloved ones in the house of our 
 Father. The spot on which I dwell on this little 
 earth becomes more holy in my eyes, for it is the 
 entrance to the better world ! My toiling and 
 plodding, my cares and my efforts, all become 
 sanctified in my eyes ; they are but the exercise 
 of the faculties of the immortal power that dwells 
 within me, and that are preparing it for a higher 
 existence. One thing only is unholy, and that is 
 sin, — the disobedience of the spirit to its own law, 
 its disobedience to thy will, O most Holy One ! 
 
 Away, all love, all impure passions, which 
 would desecrate me here in the sanctuary of 
 my Father ! 
 
 Cheerfully I will look up tP thee, gladly I will 
 resign myself to thee, O Creator, abounding in 
 love ! O joy ! to belong to thee, O wonderful 
 eternity which Christ opened to me ! To belong 
 to you, O blessed spirits of my ever-beloved ones, 
 who are beckoning me to follow you into the 
 Holy of Holies ! 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Third Meditation. 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Stop, sinner, cast thy sins away ! 
 
 Though vengeance, though the Avenger stay, 
 
 He comes to judge, he hath the power, 
 
 Shed for your guilt the sorrowing tear ; 
 
 The day of wrath may soon appear, 
 
 Swift as a robber in the night. 
 
 Hark ! even now the trumpets call, — 
 
 The stars already pass away, — 
 They sound, — they sound, — and trembling all 
 
 From forth their graves must rise to-day. 
 
 When through storm He makes his path, 
 Call ye the hills to shield from wrath ; 
 
 " Cover us, hide us," shall ye cry. 
 God comes to fill his judgment-seat, 
 The heavens shall bow beneath his feet, 
 The earth shall melt with fervent heat, 
 
 The universe in ruins lie. 
 Yet midst the wTeck of worlds undone 
 
 The spirits of the just shall rise — 
 Their course fulfilled, their victory won, 
 
 And crowned with glory — to the skies. 
 
 (Matthew xxv. 31 -46.) 
 
 T is when people are deeply distressed 
 and almost inconsolable at the death 
 of some beloved object, that it is most 
 usual to remind them of religion and 
 Christianity. At such moments, even those who 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. ^ 
 
 have never previously in words expressed any 
 interest in religion, are supposed to entertain 
 Christian feelings and sentiments. And rarely 
 does a sufferer revolt against the supposition. By 
 this very appeal to his own inward religion and 
 its consolations he is made religious. It is com- 
 forting to him to have a faith, or to profess one. 
 In secret, most persons like to think of eternity, 
 and of the state of their souls after death ; but 
 they rarely speak of these subjects. However, 
 when they do touch upon them, it is not without 
 warmth and true feeling, yet less with the firm 
 voice of conviction, than in the questioning tone 
 of curiosity. And those that mock at the idea, 
 do so with a certain reserve, as though not quite 
 sure that they are right. 
 
 Many a man, though possessed of the same 
 ineradicable consciousness of immortality as all 
 other men, nevertheless likes, in conversation, 
 to affect scepticism. Not, however, because he 
 doubts in earnest ; but because, by raising objec- 
 tions, he hopes to elicit new proofs in favor of 
 his conviction. 
 
 That uneasiness which some people feel at the 
 thought of immortality and the future destiny 
 of the soul, and which almost takes the form of 
 doubt, is owing to their thinking that they must 
 be able to give proofs of that which it is as use- 
 less as it is impossible to prove. It is impossible, 
 because most persons understand by proof, a kind 
 
Stations of eternity. 
 
 /ception and demonstration of futu- 
 one ever could pretend to. Even 
 le thinking spirit can have no other 
 Lmortality than the consciousness that 
 ^6 • ind will continue to exist, and the like 
 
 consciousness it possesses in this life. But in 
 this, as in the future life, this feeling or conscious- 
 ness is matter of the immediate present ; the con- 
 viction is not derived from the future, for that has 
 no existence except in idea. When the future 
 has been reached, it is no longer future, but 
 present. 
 
 To demonstrate that which forms part of our 
 self-consciousness is useless. I exist! Of what 
 avail is it to pro ye it ? I am conscious of it with- 
 out any proof, and for this very reason it cannot 
 be verified. For only because I am, is it possible 
 that there can be any such thing as demonstration 
 in the world, as far as I am concerned. God is ! 
 Of what avail to prove it ? My consciousness 
 tells me so, and millions of proofs, for or against, 
 can as little destroy my consciousness of it, as 
 they can destroy the nature of my spirit or the 
 existence of the world. The immortality of the 
 spirit is a fact. Of what avail to prove it ? This 
 is not an acquired thought, not an opinion, the 
 opposite of which might possibly be demonstrated. 
 It is not a faith which we are at liberty to adopt 
 or to reject, — no; it is an intuition, proceeding 
 from the innermost depths of our spiritual nature, 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 297 
 
 — it is a necessary part of our consciousness. I 
 acknowledge that it is possible that in many hu- 
 man beings this consciousness has never been 
 clearly developed. It may be that there have 
 been people who neither knew of the existence 
 of God nor of their own immortality, although 
 both formed part of their consciousness. But 
 there are likewise millions of human beings who 
 do not know that they are in health, and yet 
 the sensation of health dwells in them, and in all 
 their members. A man is not ill because, when 
 healthy, he reflects not on health. God and 
 immortality are not blotted out because many 
 human beings have not yet learnt to reflect on 
 their own self-consciousness. Not until we are sick 
 in body do we feel the value of health ; and those 
 that are sick in mind meditate most upon the pos- 
 sibility and the nature of a future existence. In- 
 stead, however, of being content with the simple 
 and indestructible intuition, this unerring and im- 
 mediate revelation of God to the human spirit, 
 they seek a standard of measure among things 
 sensuous, to aid them in forming a judgment 
 of what the spirit may be when raised above all 
 sensuous things. They endeavor to embrace the 
 supersensuous with the limited faculty of their 
 imagination, and to fathom the nature of the 
 elementary forces of the universe with ideas bor- 
 rowed from their varying earthly phenomena or 
 effects. 
 
 13* 
 
298 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Thus it is that men learn to doubt that which 
 they have lost sight of by seeking for it in a false 
 direction. Because they cannot bale out the ocean 
 with the hollow of their hand, the ocean becomes 
 to them a thing of doubtful existence. Hence it 
 is that many persons conceive God to be a kind 
 of artificially combined action of dead forces, with- 
 out self-consciousness, without wisdom, will, or 
 love ; and they are thus placed hi the degrad- 
 ing necessity of assuming that the human spirit 
 is nobler than God, because that at least possesses 
 the attributes which they deny in him. Hence it 
 is that many persons, though admitting the im- 
 mortality of the soul, form a conception of this 
 immortality that makes it nothing more than a 
 kind of extinction ; for although they do not deny 
 the eternal existence of the thinking power within 
 them, they do not believe in its personality, nor 
 in any connection between the present and the 
 future. These deluded minds find in all, even 
 the smallest things in the universe, the most ad- 
 mirable order and adaptation of means to ends ; 
 but in regard to the highest and holiest things, 
 they think that disorder and the absence of de- 
 sign are matters of course. 
 
 These views are no doubt very convenient in 
 some respects; for, as in accordance with them, 
 there is no connection between this life and the 
 future, those who hold them may live as is most 
 agreeable to themselves, without a thought of 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 299 
 
 anything farther. Cause and effect they per- 
 ceive on all sides in the universe ; but that the 
 present noble or ignoble life of the soul may, as a 
 cause, be followed by its consequences in the 
 future state after death, they refuse to believe. 
 
 There are moments, however, when these 
 views prove the reverse of convenient; for in- 
 stance, when the conscience in its natural might 
 speaks in louder tones than the subtle arguments 
 of the artificially misdirected intellects of the rea- 
 soners. Still more inconvenient do they become, 
 when by the force of divinely ordained circum- 
 stances beloved friends or relatives are taken 
 away from the sceptics, and nothing is left for 
 them, while gazing gloomily into the eternal fu- 
 ture, but to send up the cry of despair : " Has the 
 Creator of the world implanted affection in the 
 heart of man in order to prepare a hell for it? 
 Did he unite souls in the tenderest of bonds, in 
 order, when dissevering these by death, to lacer- 
 ate every fibre of the loving heart? " This can- 
 not be I Does not all that is good in material 
 nature continue forever? why, then, should that 
 which is good in spiritual nature die and become 
 extinct ? 
 
 God and immortality are irrefragable truths ! 
 The belief in retribution is a necessary result of 
 this conviction, and it is one of the oldest beliefs 
 entertained by the human race. It was em- 
 bodied in the heathen religions of antiquity, as 
 
300 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 it is in those of the present day. All religions 
 teach, in accordance with the deep-seated intui- 
 tions of mankind, that there is a heaven and a 
 hell, — an abode of bliss for the good, a place of 
 punishment for evil-doers. 
 
 Without retribution, the immortality of the 
 spirit loses all meaning, all value ; without immor- 
 tality, the existence of the Deity loses all impor- 
 tance in our eyes. Belief in the one is founded 
 in belief in the other ; the one cannot exist with- 
 out the other, — they are indeed identical. 
 
 Jesus constantly alluded to retribution as a con- 
 sequence of the justice of God. He referred Ins 
 hearers from this life to its continuance after the 
 death of the body, for the solution of all the mys- 
 teries and apparent contradictions met with here 
 on earth. Who does not know the beautiful and 
 striking parable of the rich man and Lazarus, 
 which he narrated to his disciples to make clear 
 to them the compensation in heaven which fol- 
 lows good or evil done or suffered in this world ? 
 (Luke xvi. 19-31.) Or who does not remem- 
 ber the grand and terrible image in which he 
 depicted the last judgment ; the stern Judge of 
 the dead on his throne of glory, — before him the 
 gathered nations, appearing as before a human 
 tribunal, — accusation and defence, and finally 
 judgment ? (Matthew xxv. 31 - 46.) 
 
 In these similes and parables the Divine Teacher 
 revealed the future destiny of our souls, the inev- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 301 
 
 itable consequences of our acts, our dispositions, 
 and our sentiments, of our virtues, and our sins. 
 In each he expressed the eternal truth : Retribu- 
 tion awaits you! 
 
 Even the world that now surrounds us is full 
 of indications of eternity. " We see now as 
 through a glass, darkly; but then face to face." 
 (1 Cor. xiii. 12.) And as I see in the dark glass 
 of nature the majesty of God, I divine from the 
 creations which surround the earth the order of 
 the infinite universe ; as I apprehend from the 
 constant presence and never-ceasing activity of 
 the unconscious forces of nature, the indestructi- 
 bility and everlasting existence of the higher 
 powers ; as I behold in this momentary existence, 
 called earthly life, but a point of eternity, and 
 know myself and all those who have died before 
 me to be living in this eternity, so also I perceive 
 here below indications of a retribution which 
 reigns throughout eternity, as it does on earth. 
 As surely as the entire creation and our entire 
 life is comprised in the eternal infinite, and as 
 surely as the law of retribution will continue to 
 reign on earth, after I have left it, as it does now ; 
 so surely does it already reign over the spirits who 
 dwell not on earth, so surely will it prevail in re- 
 gard to those who die after me. 
 
 In nature, everything that is contrary to law is 
 attended by evil consequences, whereas every- 
 thing that is in accordance with law is attended 
 
302 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 with satisfactory consequences. Whatever takes 
 place is followed by its effects, which, assuming 
 ever new forms, continue in endless succession, 
 each becoming in its turn a cause. However, we 
 cannot always distinguish the consequences of one 
 thing from those of another, for they cross and 
 intersect each other. But whatever takes place 
 to-day is a consequence of what took place yes- 
 terday, as this again is the product of previous 
 days. Nothing can occur to-morrow the founda- 
 tions of which have not been laid to-day or some 
 previous day ; and what we call accident is only 
 the result of some cause hidden beyond our ken 
 in the great crowd of events, — the consequence 
 of circumstances which we may have overlooked, 
 but which the Lord of the universe had freighted 
 with their import. In this ever-flowing stream 
 of cause and effect the sceptre of the great Re- 
 warder and Avenger makes itself felt. 
 
 If we consider the most insignificant acts of 
 human beings, we shall find that they are followed 
 by their inevitable consequences in like manner 
 as are the acts of nature. There is no difference. 
 Imprudence, good sense, levity, all lead to good 
 or to evil. And can we suppose that such should 
 be the case in respect to natural events, and to 
 every act of man or animal, and that the highest 
 perfection to which the human spirit can attain 
 should alone form an exception to this divine law ? 
 Should virtue, the perfected stature of the im- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 303 
 
 mortal soul, alone remain without any conse- 
 quences in regard to the soul itself? Is it indif- 
 ferent whether man, made in the Divine image, 
 and endowed with free-will, grow in likeness to 
 God, or in likeness to the brutes ? Who can 
 believe this, that knows the earnest lessons which 
 life teaches ? What man in his senses can believe 
 it ? Who can believe it, that seeks in Jesus the 
 highest truth, and who revolts against the thought 
 that perfect justice should not be one of the at- 
 tributes of God, the all-perfect Being? 
 
 The law of retribution, or of cause and effect, 
 prevails. It rules in regard to dead matter ; why 
 not in respect to that which is living? In the 
 human body lives a sublime power which we call 
 spirit, and which is endowed with consciousness, 
 perception, and will. It is the nature of this 
 power to strive for self-development, that is, to 
 strive towards a perfection infinite as all spirit. 
 It bears furthermore within itself the eternal law, 
 written by the hand of God, and purified from the 
 overlying dust of sensuousness by Jesus Christ, 
 our Saviour from sin. And according to this law 
 is the striving for perfection regulated. 
 
 Can we suppose that the Creator implanted 
 within us for no purpose this fundamental instinct 
 of self-development ? Or that the law that reg- 
 ulates this self-development is given for no pur- 
 pose ? Is it a matter of indifference whether we 
 follow it, or whether we deviate from it, whether 
 
304 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 we grow in likeness to the brutes or in likeness to 
 God? 
 
 And if, O man ! this be not a matter of indif- 
 ference ; if here also the general law of creation, 
 the endless concatenation of cause and conse- 
 quence obtains : canst thou believe that the spirit 
 is perfected on earth, and that its perfection has 
 only reference to the life on this little planet ? 
 How is it possible to believe in spiritual perfection 
 on earth ? Countless numbers have died early 
 from unknown causes, others lose, as they grow 
 old, the use of their worn-out senses, and hardly 
 retain any power over the body, the tool of the 
 soul. Does not tins interruption of the onward 
 course towards that perfection, which our inward 
 instincts and all the laws of nature impel us to 
 strive for, indicate that the work is to be continued 
 in a future existence ? 
 
 BiH; suppose that the goal of perfection could 
 in truth be reached here on earth ; would it be 
 of any avail hi regard to this life ? Nay, there 
 are numbers of human beings that get very well 
 through this life without virtue, by the aid of 
 cunning and cleverness alone. Look at the beasts 
 of the fields, they know naught of the higher 
 aspirations of the spirit, and yet they live con- 
 tentedly according to their nature. Ah, it is but 
 too true, the mere earthly life can be carried on 
 without any strength of virtue, but not so the 
 true existence of the soul. Therefore virtue does 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 305 
 
 not exist for the sake of this world alone, — it is 
 ever pointing to eternity. 
 
 Indeed, it not unfrequently occurs, that virtue 
 and mere worldly or animal happiness are diamet- 
 rically opposed to each other, — that virtue, which 
 transports the spirit with joy, causes suffering to 
 the body. Do you think the ennobled spirit will 
 not receive compensation in the course of its 
 eternal existence ? It may happen, and it has 
 happened, that human beings have by means of 
 nefarious acts, which they could not think of 
 without blushing, and which in their inmost 
 hearts they abhorred, secured to themselves the 
 most brilliant earthly advantages, such as honors, 
 riches, rank, and power. Why, then, did they 
 blush, and why did they in secret shudder at their 
 own degradation ? It may happen, and it has 
 happened, that noble men have felt it their duty 
 to shed then blood and to spend their fortunes hi 
 the cause of truth, or to sacrifice life itself for the 
 good of their loved ones, or for the salvation of 
 their country or their people ? Why have they 
 made these sacrifices ? Why were they unwilling 
 to live a life they deemed unworthy ? Why is 
 there something far more exquisite than the mere 
 breath of life ? Dost thou think that these sub- 
 lime characters, with their hearts so full of excel- 
 lence, have died in vain ? O, if thou wert right 
 in supposing this, then selfishness would be a vir- 
 tue, madness reason, and the highest truth a lying 
 
306 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 contradiction. No ; there is a God ! And na- 
 ture and eternity, in which we have our being, 
 are the kingdom of God. And in the realm of 
 the All-Just, the law of retribution rules. The 
 human spirit, which by its own will, and by rising 
 above its animal nature, — above ambition, sen- 
 suality, envy, gluttony, the love of revenge, and 
 other vicious tendencies, — attains to self-depend- 
 ence, freedom, greatness, will be after death a 
 more perfect and mature power, a more divine crea- 
 ture; and will have made many steps forward in 
 the path that leads to the highest goal which the 
 Eternal Being has marked out in the infinite dis- 
 tances of existence. This spirit will have attained 
 to a higher perfection than millions of other be- 
 ings, and this is its heaven ! 
 
 And again, if a human creature, endowed with 
 will, perceptions, and peculiar spiritual laws, nev- 
 ertheless makes himself the slave of sensuality ; 
 is cunning, irate, ambitious, gluttonous, covetous, 
 voluptuous, or, in other words, lowers himself to 
 the level of an animal possessed of the mere germs 
 of humanity, — this spiritual being who has un- 
 resistingly allowed the self-conscious power within 
 him to be overcome by the blind forces of nature, 
 will, after the death of the body, be an immature, 
 impaired, decrepit power. It has prepared for itself 
 the low position it will hold in the scale of beings, 
 and in the rank of only half-conscious, animal 
 souls. Millions of glorified spirits in the enjoy- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 307 
 
 merit of inerrable bliss hover above it. Its state 
 is near to annihilation, and this is its hell! 
 
 Boast not of thy triumph over innocence, un- 
 principled seducer ; the brutes also are voluptu- 
 ous. Boast not of thy hoarded, useless treasures, 
 covetous miser, insensible to the wants and tears 
 of thousands of sufferers ; the dog also watches 
 greedily over its heap of bones. Boast not of thy 
 cleverness and cunning, selfish villain ; of how 
 thou hast managed to conceal thy malignant trick- 
 eries, and to thrust out of thy path those who 
 obstructed it ; of how thou art able to enjoy the 
 fruits of thy frauds in security and peace ; the 
 thievish fox also excels in cunning. Unhappy 
 men, ye must seek your equals among the ani- 
 mals, — among the glorified spirits you will not 
 find them. Ye know not nobility of soul ; can ye 
 expect that there be for you a heaven of higher 
 perfection ? Ye have not sought for virtue ; 
 would ye ask for its reward ? Ye do not admit 
 that Jesus died for you ; would ye lay claim to a 
 share in the redemption wrought by him ? Ye 
 have not acknowledged the Most Holy, and he 
 will not acknowledge you. " Verily, I say unto 
 you, inasmuch as ye did it not unto one of these 
 little ones, ye did it not unto me." (Matt. xxv. 
 45.) 
 
 As the present day lays the foundation of the 
 history of the morrow, so does the life of the spirit 
 on earth lay the foundation of its history in eternity. 
 
308 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Improvement and happiness are the objects of the 
 better spirits here on earth ; they are their destiny 
 in the next world. It is vain curiosity and hope- 
 less speculation to endeavor to know how and 
 where this destiny will be fulfilled. Sensuous 
 man can only comprehend the things of this 
 earth ; to grasp the things of other worlds his 
 senses do not suffice. Or, is there any one who 
 has measured the abounding wealth of God ? It 
 would be equally idle to speculate upon the local 
 habitation and the mode of punishment of those 
 spirits who have rendered themselves unworthy 
 of a higher destiny and a better world. Jesus 
 speaks of these matters, it is true, but only in 
 parables, representing them under the semblance 
 of human things. And when he compares the 
 deplorable state of the sinner's soul with the 
 agony caused to the human body by fire, 
 the all-consuming element, he avails himself, 
 with terrible purpose, of an image much in use 
 at that day among the Jews. 
 
 Nature, reason, and revelation thus agree in 
 showing that the death of the body can make no 
 difference in the life of the soul ; that between 
 the minute in which the last breath is drawn on 
 the bed of sickness or on the field of battle, 
 and the minute in which, in accordance with the 
 eternal laws of the Creator, we enter, as eman- 
 cipated, free, self-dependent spirits, into a new 
 world, there must necessarily be a moral connec- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 809 
 
 tion, such as that between cause and effect in the 
 material world. 
 
 It is thus the soul's active power of virtue that 
 raises it up to a higher destination ; and it is not 
 the loving Deity that condemns us, but our own 
 imperfection and sinfulness. The justice of God 
 is tempered by love and mercy, and therefore the 
 self-condemned may perhaps, after having been 
 purified in the furnace of new and bitter trials, 
 again be allowed to approach the all-good One. 
 But the more perfect spirits will ever be in 
 advance of them, for the consequences of the 
 neglect of the soul on earth endure eternally. 
 
 Retribution is the law of thy kingdom, O Lord 
 of the universe ! Father and judge of our spirits ! 
 I also shall receive my reward and my punish- 
 ment. The harvest I am to reap in eternity 
 is sown here upon earth ! I shall die, — but 
 not cease to exist. Why do I turn pale at the 
 thought ? I shall die, — in a few years I shall be 
 spoken of as one that has passed away ; a few 
 years more, and I shall have been forgotten on 
 earth, as millions have been forgotten before me. 
 But thou, O Father of spirits ! thou hast not 
 forgotten these millions. They still belong to 
 thy creation ; they still live ; they are thy chil- 
 dren ; thou guidest them to perfection through 
 paths unknown to us, in like manner as on earth 
 thou gavest them pain and pleasure to serve as 
 their monitors. 
 
310 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 I exist, and shall exist, while others are passing 
 heedlessly over my grave. But thou wilt not 
 forget me. I am thy child, and shall be so even 
 when I shall be freed from the earthly coil that 
 now encompasses me. Thy child, perhaps thy 
 unhappy child, lost through my own sinfulness ! 
 Sold for earthly lust to the vengeance of sin ! 
 Removed far from thee, and from the bliss of the 
 more perfect spirits, by my neglect of my own 
 soul. Woe unto me, should I have debarred 
 myself from saying when I die, that I am going 
 in to the Father ! should my imperfection have 
 raised an eternal barrier between me and my 
 glorified beloved ones in the better world. 
 
 I tremble at the thought, that when all earthly 
 joys fade in the hour of death, no hopes from the 
 gardens of the heavenly paradise may spring up 
 to cheer my spirit ! O Eternal Father, I also am 
 thy child ! Banish me not from thy presence ! 
 Love me, that I may be blessed ! Ah ! thou de- 
 sirest that I should be blessed, therefore thou hast 
 sent me so many warnings in life ; therefore, also, 
 thou didst send thy Son, that I might lay hold of 
 the salvation he offered me. Why have I so long 
 neglected doing so ? Is it not I alone that am to 
 blame ? Alas ! have I not too often been the 
 willing slave of my earthly lusts, of the passions 
 which I have in common with the brutes ? Ah ! 
 how little have I hitherto had in common with 
 Jesus ! How can I, after a misspent life here, 
 hope for communion with him hereafter ? 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 3H 
 
 O Father, have mercy ! Nay, thou never re- 
 fusest mercy ; but do I ask for it with a contrite 
 heart ? How many hours will my earthly career 
 still last ? Through Jesus I will devote them to 
 thee, by endeavoring from this moment forward 
 to purify and perfect my own soul. Amen. 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Fourth Meditation. 
 
 REUNION. 
 
 He gave it, he hath taken it away, 
 
 He who in grieving us no joy can take. 
 Patient of evil, he the righteous' stay 
 
 And comfort, unto him my prayer I make, — 
 Is it not his, all, everything I have 1 
 
 Who, then, can have such right to all as he, 
 Who says, " Enclose thy prey," unto the grave ; 
 
 " Bring forth," to mothers in their agony 1 
 Reverence is mute, but love in faith is blest. 
 God loves us, though he rob us of our best. 
 
 How can he rob us ? He may take again 
 
 What is his own ; but is this robbery % 
 My bitter flowing tears will I restrain ; 
 
 He is almighty, — naught but dust am I ; 
 Yet me he raises from my anguish sore 
 
 To his own world of deep, unfading bliss, 
 Where loving hearts shall meet again once more, 
 
 Who have been torn apart by death in this. 
 What God, the Faithful One, who changeth never, 
 Has bound together, he will ne'er dissever. 
 
 (Luke xxiii. 43.) 
 
 LEED freely, and bleed ever afresh, 
 deep wounds of my heart ! Welcome 
 again and again, nameless and holy 
 sorrow which stirs my spirit at the 
 thought of the loved one who has left me. To 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 313 
 
 the living I can speak words of affection, I can 
 devote acts of friendship, I can express my love 
 in tender caresses ; hut what can I give to the 
 heloved dead, whose ashes repose in the grave ? 
 To him I can offer no other tribute than the tears 
 which I shed in remembering him, — no signs 
 of affection but my sighs. In my solitary walks, 
 where his cherished image ever accompanies me, 
 my hands are clasped in constantly renewed 
 agony, my streaming eyes are turned silently to- 
 wards heaven, and from my lips escapes the sigh : 
 "O my God! my God! why was I doomed to lose 
 the loved one of my soul, the light of my days ? 
 Alas ! why was he so early torn away from my 
 heart ? He was happy ; why was he not left to 
 enjoy still further happiness ? He was devoted 
 to me with tender fidelity ; why was he not al- 
 lowed to reap the reward thereof? Fain would 
 he have clung to life, — fain would he have lin- 
 gered in pain and illness, could he but have re- 
 mained among us. In vain ! The film of death 
 spread over his eyes, and the soul, so full of love, 
 departed from us. Ah ! how willingly would I 
 have given my life to reknit again the bonds 
 which bound him to life. But my prayers were 
 unheard ! There was no mercy for me ! It was 
 accomplished. The heart ceased to beat. In 
 obedience to the call of the Almighty, the spirit 
 of a new angel left us, — hastened along new 
 paths into the regions of eternal glory." 
 U 
 
314 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 They try to comfort me, saying : " Why dost 
 thou weep, thy beloved is happy ? Wouldst thou, 
 were it in thy power, deprive him of the bliss 
 which the Eternal Father has vouchsafed to him ? 
 He has won the victory ; thy grief is of no avail. 
 Call not upon thy glorified loved one, he is hap- 
 py ! " — What feeble consolation ! He is happy, 
 the angel who has fled from us ! I know he is 
 happy, for I believe in God. Did I not know 
 this, I should despair; I should curse my exist- 
 ence in a world so unmerciful, that it has only 
 tears for virtue, only cruel separation for faithful, 
 loving souls ; while for heartless vice it has pleas- 
 ure, and for treacherous infidelity, satisfaction. 
 He is happy, I know it, for I know God and his 
 love. But I, — am I happy ? For that which 
 the beloved departed spirit has lost he will find 
 boundless compensation in a higher and better 
 life. But what can make amends to me, in this 
 world, for my heart-rending loss ? I have still 
 friends, it is true ; but he is not among them. 
 I may win new friends, but I shall never again 
 press him to my lacerated heart. In vain I call 
 his name ; in vain I pray ; in vain I stretch out 
 my arms towards him. Others whom God has 
 left me are dear to my heart; but they cannot 
 take the place of him I have lost. For in the 
 love of souls, one cannot take the place of another. 
 
 Therefore will I not only be faithful to my love 
 through life, but also to my sorrow. It is the 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 315 
 
 sweetest incense which widowed faith can offer 
 on the altar of the dead. It will die with me, 
 when in the last hour, the yearning aspirations 
 of my heart shall at length be dissolved in the 
 ecstasy of approaching reunion. 
 
 Why force such consolation upon me ? It will 
 not give me back my lost one. My grief may, 
 perhaps, in time become less poignant, but my 
 love and my longing will remain the same, 
 even though I should hide them from the world. 
 Why, then, try to console me ? 
 
 Hast thou beheld thy father or thy mother in 
 the narrow coffin, — hast thou seen the venerable 
 head resting with closed eyes in the eternal sleep 
 of death ? Ah ! if so, with what tenderness didst 
 thou not gaze for the last time upon the features 
 of the countenance which had so often beamed 
 upon thee with affection ; with what reverence 
 didst thou not touch the stiffened hand, which 
 guided thee so tenderly in youth, — which in 
 infancy so willingly lifted thee over every thorn 
 in thy path, — which had so often been raised to 
 heaven in supplication for thee ! Hast thou be- 
 held the corpse of thy child in its coffin ? Thy 
 sweet child whom thou didst tend and watch 
 through many anxious days and sorrowful nights ! 
 But thy care proved vain. Thy hopes lay strewn 
 like withered leaves over the lovely corpse. The 
 joys which the future had promised died with thy 
 darling. In his face, still lovely in death, thou 
 
316 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 didst read the tenderness with which his heart 
 beat for thee before its throbbings were stilled. 
 With stifled voice thou didst whisper the last, the 
 eternal good-night ! You were separated. The 
 heart of father or of mother had to tear itself 
 from the child of its affections, and to resign 
 itself to solitude. 
 
 Hast thou seen thy husband or thy wife stretched 
 with pallid cheek on the funeral bier ? Thy heaven 
 on earth, thy better half, laid low in death ? Then 
 hast thou felt as though thou wert no longer thy- 
 self, as though the nobler part of thyself had been 
 taken away. Widow, or widower, didst thou 
 not sob forth : " Why, O why have I been left 
 behind ? Why cannot I follow thee into thy 
 heaven ? " 
 
 * Hast thou seen brother, or sister, or friend, or 
 beloved companion of thy childhood, laid low in 
 death? Hast thou seen the cherished remains 
 borne away from thy home, and with them all 
 the joys that had sprung from the happy rela- 
 tionship ? Thou stoodst there like a tree struck 
 by lightning, that has lost its leafy crown, and has 
 been rent asunder in the prime of its strength. 
 
 O, how bitter is the pain of parting in death ! 
 Is then affection a crime, that it must be so cruelly 
 expiated ? Why did the Creator give us a heart 
 receptive of love, and endow us with a wealth of 
 tender feelings, if this heart and these feelings 
 are not to be taken into account in this life ? 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 317 
 
 Why was the treasured object bestowed upon me, 
 and why was I allowed to bind myself to him 
 by such tender bonds, if these were to be dissev- 
 ered, and the pain thus rendered tenfold greater ? 
 What had my beloved lost one been guilty of, 
 that he should be doomed to suffer so intensely in 
 his last moments ? Why should this angel, when 
 drawing near to the hour of his glorification, be 
 tortured with the pangs of disease ? Of what 
 good was it to me to witness his patient suffering ? 
 These are fearful, cruel enigmas, which I cannot 
 solve ! But they render my grief more intense ; 
 they increase my sense of misery to an unutter- 
 able degree. I see how wretched is the lot of 
 man, I see that the mercy of the Eternal Father 
 is no more. O my God, thy mercy ? Ah ! for- 
 give, forgive the injustice which the despair of 
 the moment inspired ! No, thy mercy never 
 ceases ! Even on the bed of death thou wert 
 the Father of the sufferer. Thou diclst not inflict 
 greater pain than he could bear, and his severest 
 agonies thou didst mercifully assuage by uncon- 
 sciousness. He was perhaps less aware of his 
 physical state than I supposed. My tender anx- 
 iety, my imagination filled with terrors, impressed 
 me with exaggerated notions of the pangs which 
 he endured. Perhaps I suffered even more than 
 he, for what is the anguish of the body compared 
 with that of the soul ? Great is my distress, O 
 Father ! But greater still my faith in thy wise 
 
318 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 guidance and in thy unbounded love. Thou. O 
 L rd, didst give me my .soul'.- beloved; and thou, 
 O Lord, hast taken him away. 
 
 But why hast thou taken him away? "Wherein 
 had I offended ? Waa my love for him too great ? 
 Was I unworthy of my tranquil happiness ? Can 
 we love too much ? Yes, Father. I acknowledge 
 it : we love too much when ice cling so passionately 
 to some object in this world, as though it were to be- 
 long to us forever. Did I not know that here on 
 earth human beings meet but for a little while ? 
 Did I not know that either he, the object of my 
 affection, must leave this world before me, or I 
 before him ? The first time we grasp a new 
 friend's hand, we ought to think of the parting 
 pressure we may have to give to that same hand, 
 and to remember that the hour of separation is 
 ever nearer than we anticipate ; this will prevent 
 our friendship from becoming too ardent. When 
 father and mother impress the first rapturous kiss 
 on the soft cheek of the new-born babe, let them 
 remember that this sweet plant of ( in- 
 
 trusted to their care for a few hours, a few wee 
 or a few years, only. Then they will each day 
 be prepared to give back the precious nursling 
 n the Lord demands it. Woe to them if they 
 deceive themselves if their passionate fondness 
 ise to believe in the possibility of separation, 
 and they mor-k at the warnings of reason ! Then 
 the loss becomes a punishment, and. the anguish so 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 319 
 
 much the more poignant, because it is a consequence 
 of their own want of reflection. 
 
 Yes, Heavenly Father, I acknowledge how 
 earnestly thou dost ever admonish our souls not 
 to give themselves up with too great devotion 
 even to the noblest pleasures here below. We 
 are not to abide here. Our life on earth is to be 
 but the beginning of our life in heaven. Here 
 we are but to lay the foundations of the holy and 
 beautiful things, which are to be completed in the 
 true home of our spirits. We must ever keep 
 in mind that each good we may enjoy on earth 
 is bnt a loan, not a possession ; that nothing is our 
 own but our virtue ; and that everything is in thy 
 power, O Father, not in ours. When we forget 
 this, we begin also to forget our own destination ; 
 and we may then be thankful for some serious 
 warning, that rouses us out of our dreams and 
 delusions, and, as it were, calls out to us : " Here 
 vou cannot abide ; here all is fleeting; \ think of 
 elevating your minds by truth, of ennobling your 
 souls by fulfilling the word of Jesus. The most 
 virtuous is the most happy, only to the holy be- 
 longs the holiest, here and hereafter." 
 
 I will therefore try to be composed. I will listen 
 to the voice of religion, to the voice of truth, — 
 indeed, were I to refuse to listen to it, would 
 I not have to expiate my immoderate passion 
 bv severer sufferino; ? If my misfortune fail to 
 make me wiser, should I not deserve to be awak- 
 
320 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 ened to a sense of my duty by still greater mis- 
 fortunes ? I will no longer give myself up to the 
 unavailing melancholy that renders me incapable 
 of fulfilling my duties towards my God and to- 
 wards my fellow-men. I will banish from my 
 mind all gloomy images, and will cease to torment 
 myself with questionings as to whether I had 
 clone enough for the dear departed one, or wheth- 
 er I had not neglected some kindness that might 
 have been shown him either during; health or ill- 
 ness. If this has been the case, it was the will 
 of Providence that it should be so. How can 
 man with his limited insight and power hope to 
 escape errors and shortcomings ? 
 
 God willed the death of him for whom I have 
 wept so much ; he was ripe for the better world. 
 Before I drew the breath of life, before my lost 
 one was born, God had fixed his last hour. The 
 germ of his destiny began to unfold from the first 
 moment he beheld the light of the world, and the 
 appointed events of Ins life commenced their in- 
 fluence. He was still smiling cheerfully in the 
 circle of his relatives, when he began to die, and 
 the angel of death was hovering over him. His 
 death, and the very hour at which it took place, 
 were the consequence of a moment long past and 
 unknown to him. All the skill of the physician, 
 all my tending, could not have added one span to 
 Ins life. The bright light was to be extinguished. 
 In all probability the treatment by the physician, 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 321 
 
 my care, and my prayers were also included in 
 the pre-ordained concatenation of events. God's 
 providence had taken these also into account, and 
 permitted part of their activity to take effect, but 
 only the useful part. And when the life of the 
 dear one was ripe for the sickle, all human skill 
 and care proved unavailing. But God's will was 
 carried out. And shall I dare to complain ? Am 
 I wiser than Divine Providence ? Kinder than 
 the Creator ? I loved the dear one who has gone 
 to rest; but God also loved him. What God 
 doeth is well done. He separated a beloved soul 
 from me. My tears flow. 
 
 God separated ! Nay, God of Love, thou dost 
 not separate souls thou hast once united ! Who 
 says that my glorified friend is lost to me ? That 
 which is with God cannot be lost. And am I not 
 in God's hand, and my beloved likewise ? Am I 
 not in my Father's house, and my beloved also ? 
 I live, but thou also, O cherished soul, art living ! 
 I think of thee with a sad, yearning heart ; canst 
 thou have ceased to think of me ? Can love be 
 extinguished, when God is love ? 
 
 Thou rejoicest to-day in thy more perfect state, 
 in the better world ! While my tears are flowing 
 thou mayest be exulting in new-born bliss. While 
 I stammer forth thy earthly name with trembling 
 lips, thou mayest be awaiting my approaching 
 arrival with joyful anticipation. O glorified spirit, 
 God's love has perhaps vouchsafed to thee a hap- 
 
 14* u 
 
322 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 piness which in my mortal state I am incapable of 
 conceiving ! Thou seest me in my lonely sorrow, 
 thou lovest me, hoverest around me, guidest me ! 
 Perhaps thou art one of the guardian angels who 
 carry out the Lord's behests in regard to me. 
 
 Nay, we are not separated. The divine uni- 
 verse is but one. This earth forms part of the 
 divine edifice ; the present hour forms part of 
 eternity. I enjoy it here on earth, and thou en- 
 joyest it in happier regions. We still belong to 
 each other, although thou hast gone in earlier to 
 the Father, by whom I, also, shall one day be 
 called. And of what great importance is it 
 whether we be summoned to enter the Holy 
 of Holies an hour earlier or an hour later ? I 
 am not yet called because I have still much of my 
 Father's work to do on earth. His holy will be 
 done. I know that for me, also, unutterable fe- 
 licity is in store, when I shall have completed my 
 course. Whether it be in this year or in another, 
 what matters it ? What is the longest duration 
 of man's career ? A fleeting morning dream. 
 When it is passed, and the hour strikes, O then 
 to meet again, to stand face to face again with 
 thee, shall be the reward of my faithful, glorified 
 spirit. To be reunited to thee ! To see thee 
 again ! O thought full of heavenly rapture ! To 
 meet thee again, absent angel, whose loss I am 
 ever lamenting ! What a moment will that be in 
 the paradise of the better world ! As human 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 323 
 
 beings, we should cling to each other with tears 
 of unspeakable joy ; as glorified spirits, we shall 
 bow down in grateful adoration of God, and be 
 dissolved in bliss. 
 
 Reunion ! But can it be possible ? On what 
 do I ground the sweet hope ? Whence does it 
 come to me ? 
 
 O thou, whose wisdom has so often lifted my 
 soul to God, whose word has never deceived me, 
 whose promises have ever been wonderfully ful- 
 filled, — Jesus Christ, eternal Son of the living 
 Father, sent to comfort suffering humanity, thou 
 hast inspired me with this hope and trust. When 
 on the cross, thou spakest to thy fellow-sufferer, 
 " Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be 
 with me in paradise," (Luke xxiii. 43,) thou 
 didst speak words of rapturous hope to all sor- 
 rowing souls. 
 
 He, for whom I am weeping here in the dust, 
 has not been taken from me forever. We shall 
 be reunited ; God's voice has promised it. Even 
 in material nature I perceive a wonderful striving 
 of dissevered forces towards reunion. Those 
 elements which belong together will, in spite of 
 all man's efforts to separate them, always find the 
 means of reuniting. I see throughout creation 
 that among the living organisms as well as in 
 inanimate matter, certain beings and certain 
 things are in closer affinity to each other than 
 others, and are ever mutually attracting one an- 
 
324 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 other, and amalgamating. Throughout God's 
 great kingdom there is a division and a connec- 
 tion of things, as in families ; they adhere to each 
 other, they always find each other again. Were 
 it not for this fundamental principle in creation, 
 the world would be a chaos, and endless confusion 
 of forces and phenomena ; there would be no 
 separation and no combination. But light ever 
 blends with light, earth with earth. Watery par- 
 ticles rise up from ocean, lakes, and rivers, but 
 return again from the skies as rain or dew. Each 
 thing finds its like. I am astounded at the effects 
 even of the elective affinities in lifeless matter, 
 in which like always seeks and amalgamates irre- 
 sistibly with like, while it rejects whatever is 
 foreign to it. And what we call elective affinity 
 and sympathy in the material world, is love in the 
 spiritual realm. God himself is the highest power 
 of love, hence the never-satisfied yearning of the 
 spirit for union with him, for happiness in him, 
 for perfection. 
 
 And if this divine law of attraction and re- 
 union rules on earth, and in the high heavens, 
 as far as my eye can penetrate the various fami- 
 lies or galaxies of stars, — where every planet 
 has its satellite, where every sun belongs to a 
 special system of planets, — can we suppose that 
 it rules less in the world of the higher spirits, 
 where that which in lifeless things is but a vague 
 impulse, is raised and ennobled into a conscious 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 325 
 
 sentiment? — in that world where dwells God, 
 the source of all love, where his laws and his 
 works are but the results of love ? 
 
 It is true, the form in which the beloved being 
 became dear to me on earth rests in the grave. 
 But in reality it was not this perishable form that 
 I loved, but the imperishable spirit ; and the veil 
 that surrounded the lovely soul was only dear to 
 me because of its connection with the angel spirit 
 whom it concealed. The veil has fallen, but the 
 angel lives ! But shall I meet him again ? If so, 
 how shall I recognize him, since he has lost that 
 outer form in which alone I knew him. 
 
 Why these questions so full of doubt ? Poor 
 mortal, hast thou measured the power of God? 
 By what means do the elementary bodies in cre- 
 ation find and recognize each other? 
 
 When bright-eyed spring awakes, millions of 
 plants stand forth in the full bloom of their love- 
 liness, and each species sends forth through the 
 air its golden pollen to the others of its kind. 
 Without this pollen fructification is impossible. 
 These blossoms are often separated by consider- 
 able distances, and yet the pollen, the almost 
 invisible dust, finds the flower for which it is 
 intended. Among millions of flowers it floats 
 as if attracted by some magic power towards 
 that one only which is of similar nature to itself. 
 Here in this earthly part of creation is a miracle 
 which I witness every year. And is this mir- 
 
326 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 acle of the Almighty not an indication of the 
 things of eternity? That infinite power of God 
 which guides the fructifying pollen from afar to 
 the only flower that awaits it, can it fail in the 
 realm of higher beings, more closely akin to the 
 Godhead ? O yes ; there is reunion after death ! 
 That which God has united is united forever. 
 Therefore, O beloved spirit ! beloved through 
 eternity ! we can never be parted. Thou in 
 heaven, and I on earth, belong to each other 
 forever. Be happy in the higher regions where 
 thou dwellest. I shall one day be with you in 
 paradise. Why, then, should I weep ? We are 
 both living in the great house of our Father. To 
 me thy absence is pain, it is true ; but I could 
 not, would not, wish that thou shouldst again 
 wander with me here on earth among the living. 
 Even had I the power to call thee down again 
 from thy blissful habitation, I would not do so. 
 For thou hast fought the good fight; thou hast 
 won the victory ; it is not for thee to return to 
 me, but for me to hasten to thee. I know the 
 way that will lead me to thee without fail, — it is 
 the path of earnest dutifulness, the sincere Chris- 
 tian spirit with which I fulfil God's behests on 
 earth, — it is the way to God himself. Sin and 
 vice only can separate me from God and thee. 
 
 My anguish was great at thy death, but great 
 is now the joy of my soul. Thou, O blessed 
 spirit, art my beloved still, and thou drawest me 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 327 
 
 with hallowed bonds after thee into the better 
 world. Through the love of spirits, heaven and 
 earth are made akin. Some of my dear ones 
 are with God. What a heavenly thought is not 
 this ! 
 
 Father in heaven, my Father and Father of 
 the glorified souls that belong to me ! As in the 
 cruel hour of parting I raised my hands to thee 
 in anxious supplication, and with streaming eyes 
 I prayed, a O, leave me my beloved!" in like 
 manner, Father, I now raise my hands to thee, 
 with exultant satisfaction, crying, " Thanks that 
 thou didst call away my precious one ! " His 
 death has, indeed, deeply shaken my whole 
 being, but it has made me nobler, holier, more 
 religious. I feel myself drawn nearer to thee ; 
 I feel more alienated from earth and all its be- 
 longings, and will never again give myself up to 
 these with immoderate ardor ; a bond is estab- 
 lished between me and eternity which can never 
 be destroyed. I no longer live on earth only ; I 
 live, also, in heaven with thee, and the dear one 
 whom thou gavest me, and whom thou didst 
 take away. 
 
 There was a time when the thought of death 
 and the grave overwhelmed me and made me 
 shudder. How coidd I, indeed, love death and 
 the grave, when to me they were only the great 
 gulf that threatened to swallow up my happiness ! 
 Then the earth was still a heaven to me, and thy 
 
328 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 heaven, O God, a sacred desert, in which I 
 thought of myself as a stranger, whom no one 
 there knew or loved. And I feared death, and 
 recoiled from the unknown land. 
 
 Now it is the goal of my longings ; there is my 
 haven of rest, my home, all that I most treasure ! 
 There are the companions of my heart, of my 
 life ! And when I feel most happy among my 
 friends on earth, the thought comes to me, In 
 heaven thou wilt be happier still ! When gloom 
 settles on earthly things, I say to myself, Yonder 
 all will be clear and unclouded. 
 
 Through Jesus Christ I will render myself 
 worthy of the bliss thou hast prepared for me 
 from the beginning of time. O Father, I will do 
 thy bidding ! I will live a life of love and devo- 
 tion to my fellow-men, so that I may hereafter, 
 in my glorified state, enjoy thy love. Amen. 
 Help me, O Lord Jesus, Light of my soul! 
 Amen. 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Fifth Meditation. 
 
 REUNION. 
 
 When o'er my cold and narrow bed, 
 The last fond parting tear is shed 
 
 By sorrowing friendship, broken-hearted, 
 In that blest life shall I rejoice, 
 Where round me sounds each dear one's voice, 
 
 Where God again unites the parted. 
 
 What we begin in weakness here 
 Shall rise to full perfection there, — 
 
 Perfect ! eternal ! — one the word. 
 The earthly germ of pui-est love 
 Can only bloom in heaven above ; 
 
 For there is bliss, and there the Lord. 
 
 (John xvi. 16-22.) 
 
 'ISE up, O my soul, from the tumult 
 of this life into thy true freedom ; 
 throw off the burden of thy sorrows 
 and expand in the hope of eternal 
 peace ; look up from the whirl of pleasure, and 
 contemplate thy higher destination ! 
 
 For what is this drop of earthly life in which 
 thou at present revellest, when compared to the 
 ocean of infinite glory which will be opened to 
 
330 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 thy admiring gaze when this short dream is past ? 
 What is all the pomp of the earth, all the glitter 
 of golden dust here below, when compared to the 
 splendor that will meet thine eyes at the portals 
 of Eternity ? Ah, why waste thy admiration on 
 the poor torch with which thou illuminest thy 
 dwelling ? What is it compared to the lustre of 
 the sun, in whose effulgence countless worlds 
 float, drinking in light and heat and life ? 
 
 Yea, Eternity, final goal towards which all are 
 hastening, — the sorrowing and the joyful, the 
 king and the beggar, the sage and the fool, the 
 old man and the laughing child, — Eternity, that 
 awaits us all, be thou to-day the subject of my 
 thoughts ! The very mention of thy name makes 
 my soul feel freer, nobler, purer ! Earthly things, 
 which at other times fill me with pleasure, or 
 wound me with their thorns, seem insignificant 
 and contemptible in thy presence. Religion is 
 more attractive, more divine, more exalting, when 
 it awakens in my bosom wonderful presentiments 
 of a future existence. Eternity, at the thought 
 of which levity shudders, sin turns pale, and the 
 sceptic trembles in doubt, — Eternity, consum- 
 mator of all that is begun, retributive judge with 
 sword and palm-branch, all-reconciling, all-equal- 
 izing Eternity, — thou art the comforter of the 
 sage, the joyful hope of the Christian ! 
 
 To me also thou shalt bring consolation and 
 hope, — consolation, when I weep over my un- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 331 
 
 happy lot ; hope, when amid a cheerful circle of 
 friends I rejoice in life. Consolation, when my 
 views of life become obscured by melanchply ; 
 hope, when in the midst of joy and happiness 
 the thought forces itself upon me, Everything 
 changes, and what man possesses is taken from 
 him again ! Consolation, when the hand of death 
 robs me of my dear ones, when I stand sorrowing 
 by their death-bed, gazing with tearful eyes at 
 their pale, cold, rigid features, which will never 
 again smile sweetly upon me ; hope, when one 
 day death beckons me also, and I must part from 
 souls tenderly devoted to me, from affectionate 
 friends and weeping orphans. 
 
 O Eternity, my hope and consolation, revealed 
 to me through Jesus Christ, thou storest up for 
 me all the treasures of joy which have fled from 
 me here below ! Why, then, should I tremble 
 before thee ? Towards thee the storm-wind car- 
 ries the sweet blossoms, which it here snatches 
 from my wreath of joys. Why, then, tremble at 
 the thought of thee ? In thee, and in thee only, 
 can I find again that which I have lost on earth, 
 and that which I shall leave behind me on earth, 
 when I, in my turn, am called away. What deep 
 and rapturous emotion is caused by the thought, 
 that I shall find ao;ain what I have lost ! That in 
 eternity I may hope to see again those whom I 
 saw and loved on earth ! O my dear, my beloved 
 parents ! O affectionate companions of my child- 
 
332 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 hood ! ye who were bound to my heart by 
 ties of blood and tenderness ! O ye whom my 
 tears, my silent despair, could not recall to life ! 
 O ye who departed sorrowfully from me to go 
 over into the better existence, — I shall find you 
 again! I shall see you again! 
 
 My heart swells with new and heavenly joy, — 
 my eyes o'ernow with tears of longing, — my 
 spirit, rising on the wings of prayer, guided by 
 the light of religion, approaches the mysterious 
 portals of eternity ; it draws nigh unto you in the 
 lovely and distant worlds in which God dwells, 
 and where you abide, in a nobler, happier state 
 than mine. I am still here in the prison-house 
 of earth ; ye are free in the higher world ! I am 
 still weak and imperfect, now dwelling in sun- 
 shine, now in shade ; ye revel in the never-cloud- 
 ed brightness of the Deity, of the angels, and the 
 blessed ! O, could ye hear the voice of my heart, 
 could ye see the tears with which I yearn for 
 you ! I call to you, I sob forth the prayer, Re- 
 member in your beatitude the one you left behind, 
 and who will love you evermore ! There is a 
 God, and God will reunite us! 
 
 We shaM see each other again ! It is no dream, 
 it is no delusion ! Jesus, the sanctifier of the 
 world, Jesus, the Revealer of God, has promised 
 it to his followers. 
 
 He spake the sweetest of all consolations when, 
 in one of the most trying hours of his life, he 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 333 
 
 foretold to his disciples the tribulations and perse- 
 cutions they would have to endure ; and en- 
 deavored to prepare these men, who clung to him 
 with childlike simplicity and devotion, for his 
 death, his going in to the Father. "A little 
 while, and ye shall not see me ; again, a little 
 while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the 
 Father. Ye now have sorrow ; but I will see you 
 again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy 
 no man taketh from you." (John xvi. 16, 22.) 
 
 We shall see each other again ! In that fearful 
 hour of death when Christ, bleeding on the cross, 
 seemed abandoned by God, a malefactor, con- 
 demned to the same death as himself, but full of 
 faith, prayed to him for comfort, and Jesus gave 
 him the most blessed of all consolations. " Veri- 
 ly," so spake the World-Redeemer, and spake it 
 with dying voice, — " Verily I say unto thee, To- 
 day shalt thou be with me in paradise." (Luke 
 xxiii. 43.) 
 
 Can I doubt when Jesus speaks, Jesus, the mi- 
 raculous Heaven-sent Messenger, Jesus, born of 
 God, and who came to enlighten the dark world 
 of spirits in accordance with the will of the Eter- 
 nal Father ? Can I doubt the word of life which 
 he brought to many ? In whom could I believe 
 if not in him ? Is there any one who before him 
 or after him has proclaimed more sublime and 
 sacred truths ? Who has there been before or 
 after him who, like him, has taught in such a way 
 
334 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 that the wisest of living men, and the simplest 
 child, could follow him as an unerring guide ? 
 Who has before him or since given such an 
 example to the world of holy living? Who 
 has, like him, taught the human race self-knowl- 
 edge, and pointed out its true dignity and desti- 
 nation ? 
 
 We shall see each other again ! Jesus hath 
 said it. With deepest fervor my faith embraces 
 this divine truth, which I hold from him, and 
 which is in such perfect harmony with God's love 
 and greatness ; which affords a sacred key to the 
 thousand dark mysteries of life on earth, and 
 without which I can see naught in creation but 
 saddest contradiction, aimlessness, and confusion. 
 
 Thou sayest, O melancholy sceptic : " I cannot 
 conceive how we shall be able to find each other 
 and to recognize each other in that other world ! 
 For though the spirit may go into a happier ex- 
 istence, the body, through means of which we 
 know each other here below, remains in the 
 grave, and returns to the dust from whence it 
 came." I admit that dust returns to dust; but 
 it was not dust which was loved by dust, — it 
 was the soul which clung lovingly to another 
 soul. Thou doubtest, because thou canst not 
 solve the mysteries of eternity. Thou doubtest, 
 because thy limited understanding cannot fathom 
 the depths of God's omniscience and omnipotence. 
 Thou doubtest, because thou dost not know in 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 335 
 
 what form the spirit is clad after death. He 
 who would know this, he who would embrace 
 and understand the entire order of creation, he 
 must himself be God. This thou art not. 
 
 The limitations of thy understanding preclude 
 thee from the highest Jc?wwledge ; but the force of 
 thy reason impels thee to nourish the highest faith. 
 And the laws of reason are the voice of the 
 Deity ! To resist these laws is to descend to the 
 level of the animals, and is a proof of insanity. 
 Be what thou wert meant to be, what thou art 
 bound to be, — a reasonable being, — and thou 
 wilt at once find that the most perfect accord- 
 ance reigns in the universe. 
 
 But whateveilHhe cavilling sceptic may say, he 
 can only assert that it is possible that death may 
 separate us forever ! But he can prove nothing 
 against the hope that whispers, It is possible that 
 we may meet again on the other side of the 
 grave ! His arguments are mere conjectures, 
 inspired by his splenetic mood, or, perhaps, by a 
 vain desire to say something striking. His own 
 feelings must revolt against these weapons, with 
 which, weak as they are, he would endeavor to 
 shake the power of his own faith, and the faith of 
 all nations, civilized or savage. Even in soulless 
 nature, we perceive that kindred forces mutually 
 attract each other in obedience to laws unknown 
 to us. And when dust flies to dust to unite itself 
 with it, how can we suppose that higher organiza- 
 
336 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 tions, self-conscious beings, should be excluded 
 from the rule of these beneficent laws of attrac- 
 tion ? Are our spirits of less importance than the 
 pollen, which escapes from the cup of the flower 
 to seek, among a thousand others, for one of simi- 
 lar nature which it may fructify? Sceptic, ex- 
 plain to me this incomprehensible wonder, and I 
 will explain to thee how self-conscious, self-direct- 
 ing, and living spirits find each other again, and 
 satisfy their yearnings in the regions of eternity. 
 
 Was it man who prescribed for man the law of 
 eternal love ? Was it man who implanted in his 
 own bosom all the best affections ? Was it man 
 who, together with the sentiment of love, created 
 its desire for everlasting duration ? Nay, it was 
 God's hand that planted these feelings in our 
 hearts ; it was God who inspired the desire of kin- 
 dred souls for eternal union. And He who bound 
 us together here on earth, for a brief space of 
 time, by such tender ties, — he who is Love, 
 Mercy, Goodness, — would he dissever again, for 
 no purpose, the bonds which he himself had 
 woven ? He, the Most Blessed, would he inflict 
 upon us woe greater than the most cruel of men 
 could subject us to? He, the all-holy One, would 
 he delude us through means of our holiest feel- 
 ings, and deceive us in the hour of death ? He 
 who bids our hearts to love, would he desire to 
 witness our despair ? 
 
 Base and terrible thought, flee from me. I 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 337 
 
 believe in the all-perfect God, and with this faith 
 comes the tranquillizing conviction that he will 
 not dissever the sacred ties that bind sonl to 
 soul, and which he himself created. He is all- 
 perfect, and cannot repent of any of his works. 
 How, then, should he repent the noblest of his 
 inspirations and provisions, — the mutual love of 
 souls, their happiness, and its duration ? 
 
 God is ! Therefore shall we, who were created 
 for each other, meet again. He is the Creator, 
 and he is love ! We shall see each other a£cain, 
 we shall belong to each other again ; eternity will 
 satisfy the longings of millions of noble souls. 
 
 What would immortality be without the im- 
 mortality of my consciousness, without a continu- 
 ance of my higher essence ? And is it not the 
 power of virtue and love in the soul, which alone 
 gives me any value in my own eyes, and makes 
 the world of any value to me ? 
 
 Immortality without the consciousness that I 
 have previously existed, without connection with 
 the past, would not be immortality, but annihila- 
 tion. Were I to be born again in eternity without 
 any consciousness of my past existence, my birth 
 would be nothing more than the creation of a 
 new being;, who had never until then existed. 
 
 No ; God is ! And sure as he is eternal and 
 all-perfect, I am immortal ; and being so, the 
 power of my spirit, my virtue, my love, cannot 
 die with my body. Every nightly slumber on 
 
 15 
 
338 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 earth is like unto death, and every awakening 
 like the new existence. Each morn when I arise 
 from sleep the remembrance of my previous life, 
 my acquired virtues, my sentiments of friendship, 
 return. Explain to me, O sceptic, what makes 
 this miracle possible every morning ; then will 
 I explain how it is possible that kindred souls 
 should recognize each other, and cling to each 
 other, in eternity also. 
 
 Were those bonds, which God has knit to- 
 gether, to be dissevered forever by death ; were 
 my faithful love and the hope of sweet reunion to 
 die with my body, — O then all that seems to 
 me most glorious in God's world would be dis- 
 jointed and annihilated ! My soul would be 
 robbed of its most precious treasures, of its sweet- 
 est joys, — all eternity would be to me like a 
 place of banishment, where my bereaved soul 
 would roam about, searching in vain for what it 
 had lost. O in that case, an everlasting grave 
 would be far preferable to an everlasting life, in 
 which love could only weep hopelessly at the re- 
 membrance of its losses. Then we should shun 
 love and friendship on earth even more than envy 
 and hatred. Then the greater part of the earthly 
 life of millions and millions of noble human spirits 
 will have been as naught. O then I should 
 implore the Eternal Love to root out all affection 
 from my heart. My cry to God would be : Why 
 didst thou give me a heart, if such wounds were 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 339 
 
 to be inflicted on it ? Why didst thou lead be- 
 loved souls towards me, if thou didst mean to 
 tear them away from me again ? Why didst thou 
 bestow upon me this sentiment of love, this heart 
 full of faith, if it only enables me to feel more 
 deeply my losses, only gives me the capacity for 
 more intense suffering? In vain, then, is the 
 hope which makes husband or wife die with the 
 name of the beloved spouse on his or her lips, 
 which makes a sister pronounce the name of a 
 dear brother, or a tender mother that of her dar- 
 ling child ? Eternity would thus be an infinitely 
 enduring, never-satisfied longing, — a never-ceas- 
 ing lamentation over losses never to be repaired. 
 
 Nay, sad sceptic, listen to the words of Jesus, 
 who promises us reunion in eternity ! Listen to 
 the voice of reason, which condemns those in- 
 sane doubts of thine, that would throw the world 
 into confusion, and would make thine own life 
 and the whole of creation appear aimless and dis- 
 jointed ! Acknowledge what experience teaches 
 thee each day, what the entire history of the 
 world, what every look at the wide creation 
 teaches thee, — God leaves nothing incomplete which 
 he has created ! He does not begin, and then leave 
 unfinished ; he is eternal, and eternal is all that 
 he has brought into existence. 
 
 One of the most blessed and tranquillizing rea- 
 sons for the belief in the immortality of the soul 
 is the inward aspiration after virtue, and the hap- 
 
340 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 piness attendant upon this, which the Deity has 
 implanted in us. The goal we thus strive for is 
 seldom reached on earth; the virtuous man is 
 often the most unhappy ; therefore, only in eter- 
 nity can this thirst for perfection and for happi- 
 ness be satisfied; but there it must be satisfied, 
 if everything here below is not to be looked upon 
 as aimless, and if virtue itself is not to be deemed 
 a vain delusion. 
 
 Every reason for belief in the immortality of 
 the soul is at the same time a reason for the 
 belief that kindred souls will meet again in eter- 
 nity. Alas ! what manifold sufferings do not 
 noble beings here below endure for the sake of 
 their beloved ones, — friend for friend, parents 
 for children. And can we suppose that these 
 tears, these cares, these sacrifices, will remain 
 unrequited ? Death robs them of the noblest, the 
 dearest, part of their life ; and you suppose that 
 their grief would remain unheeded, forgotten, by 
 the justice of an all-loving Godhead ? 
 
 No, no ; the heart revolts against this thought ; 
 reason condemns it ; the divine words spoken by 
 the lips of Jesus contradict it. 
 
 Dwell ever with me, sweet and heavenly faith, 
 that I shall one day meet again, in the land where 
 tears never flow, all the dear ones whom I have 
 lost here below. This faith dispels the gloom of 
 life. In its light God and his creation, life and 
 eternity, appear in more glorious connection and 
 accordance. 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 341 
 
 We shall meet again, — what matters it how 
 and where ? God is there as here, and his will 
 is our bliss. We shall be reunited, O ye ever- 
 beloved souls ! it is no dream, no empty delusion, 
 that we shall belong to each other forevermore. 
 
 Ah ye, whose lowly graves the green mould of 
 forgetfulness is already overspreading, ye are not 
 forgotten by me. My heart still beats for you as 
 when it responded to yours ; my eyes still shed 
 tears at the remembrance of our parting. We 
 are not separated forever. Perhaps ye remember 
 me in yon happier regions, as I remember you 
 here below. For me this life has no longer any 
 attractions. I have no rest, no joy, but with you ; 
 my every wish follows you into the better world. 
 And ye, O ye blessed ones ! perhaps ye smile at 
 my grief as glorified spirits smile, knowing how 
 near is the hour of reunion. Ye smile as does 
 the husband, who after long absence from his be- 
 loved spouse, draws nigh unknown to her, and 
 while she is still lamenting over the separation. 
 
 Ah ; when shall I again embrace you ? When 
 shall I cease to sigh? When shall I again, in 
 intimate and eternal union with you, praise the 
 Lord and Creator for our ineffable bliss ? Even 
 the remembrance of our life on this earth will 
 still be dear to us ; for here we found each other ; 
 here it was that God gave us to each other ; here 
 our souls blended with each other ! 
 
 O God, thou art love ! Why do I continue 
 
342 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 to weep for the dead ? They have gone to thee, 
 and I shall see the blessed ones again ! To those 
 who have faith in thy fatherly love, even the 
 pain of waiting becomes a sweet enjoyment. 
 Calmly I bide the hour when thou wilt lead 
 me in to the dear ones. With rapturous delight 
 I look forward to an eternity of bliss, and with 
 thankfulness I look up to Him who has prepared 
 this happiness for me from the beginning of all 
 things. 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 Sixth Meditation. 
 
 REUNION. 
 
 Ah, no ! The universe is not a dream ; 
 
 This life is not a fragment cast aside ; 
 Each is a part of the eternal scheme, 
 
 By which a better life to this is tied. 
 Departed spirits do but soar above ; 
 The lost on earth, the dear ones whom we love, 
 
 Wait till we stand, uprisen, by their side. 
 
 O, blessed promise, which the Saviour gave, 
 Thou fillest us with rapture, ever-growing 
 
 Thou shinest over every loved one's grave 
 
 On which our sorrowing tears are sadly flowing. 
 
 Thou guidest our weary souls along the road 
 
 Tlrat leads us heavenward, through faith, to God, 
 And to a union which no end is knowing. 
 
 (Revelation iii. 21.) 
 
 HOU art taught by the revelations 
 of Jesus ; by the voice of the past 
 sounding through a thousand years ; 
 by the evidences in nature, from the 
 grain of sand to the glittering star ; and by thy 
 inward monitor, thy conscience. Thou confess- 
 est: Yes, there is a God! an almighty, all-holy, 
 
344 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 all-just Being, who created the universe, and who 
 directs the lifeless forces in it ; who, as the Eter- 
 nal Spirit, loves all spirits as his children; who 
 does not repent of what he created in his om- 
 niscience ; who does not destroy the least grain 
 of sand in his creation, and much less the no- 
 bler energies in it, — the human spirits which 
 are capable of conceiving God and honoring 
 him. 
 
 Thou confessest that there is a God, and in so 
 doing thou confessest that immortality must neces- 
 sarily be the destiny of our souls! 
 
 But if thy soul be immortal, thou canst not but 
 admit that, in some way or other, consciousness 
 must be retained after death. For not to be 
 aware of thy identity is the same as annihilation. 
 Or not to know that thou art the same that 
 existed previously, and how thou didst exist, is 
 not continuance, but a new beginning, — - a new 
 creation. 
 
 Were we not to be conscious after deatn of our 
 previous existence, our goodness, our nobility of 
 soul, the sacrifices made by us on earth, would 
 all be useless. For of what avail would be a 
 reward in the next world, an amelioration in 
 our condition, if that which led to it had been 
 forgotten? Or why should our sins be judged 
 on high, why should retributive justice be meted 
 out to us in the degradation of our spirits, if 
 we are not aware of how we have merited our 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 345 
 
 punishment, our degradation ? Retribution in the 
 next world would be meaningless, rewards and 
 punishments after death might as well be so many 
 acts of injustice, or at least be called so. Virtue 
 here on earth, the improvement of the soul, vice, 
 its degradation, would — if there be no connec- 
 tion between this life and the next — be almost a 
 matter of indifference. Whoever believes in the 
 perfect justice of God, whoever believes in the 
 absolute holiness of God, must also believe in a 
 true continuation of the spirit life ; i. e. in a con- 
 tinuance without interruption, in an intimate spirit- 
 ual connection between the here and the here- 
 after. 
 
 Such a connection, however, is impossible, un- 
 less the soul retain the consciousness of its previous 
 existence. The soul, when once emancipated 
 from the imperfect earthly coil which often im- 
 peded its activity, may perhaps in the next world 
 develop a vigor of which, in our present state, 
 we can form no conception. Thus in the dreams 
 of the old man while his body sleeps, memories 
 from his youth, or his early manhood, which in 
 his waking state he had completely forgotten, are 
 often revived with wonderful distinctness. 
 
 This belief in the connection between the fu- 
 ture state and the present has not only at all times 
 prevailed among all nations which have emerged 
 from the first stage of barbarism, but Jesus, the 
 Divine Man, also shadowed it forth in that first 
 
 15* 
 
346 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 parable in which he endeavors to impress upon 
 men the coming of a day of retribution. (Mat- 
 thew xxv. 31-46.) He introduces the righteous, 
 and puts these words into their mouth : " Lord, 
 when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or 
 thirsty, and gave thee drink? " Yes ; Jesus who 
 was filled with divine wisdom, and to whom 
 divine revelations were vouchsafed, hath declared 
 to us mortals, not only the undying nature of 
 our souls, but also the uninterrupted continuance 
 of the consciousness of our acts. But this con- 
 tinuance of consciousness is not possible, unless 
 we retain the remembrance also of those persons 
 with whom we have been intimately connected on 
 earth. For the greater number of our actions 
 have had reference to them; they have induced 
 our virtues and our vices ; they have been the 
 objects of our love or of our hatred, of our gen- 
 erosity or of our malignity, of our mercy or of 
 our cruelty. 
 
 To the earthly understanding which knows 
 only earthly means it may indeed be difficult to 
 comprehend how and in what way the recognition 
 between those whom God's love bound together 
 in this world by the ties of affection shall take 
 place in the next. But is it not folly to reject a 
 thing as were it not, merely because with our lim- 
 ited earthly faculties we are unable to conceive or 
 to imagine it? Must not the higher beings, if 
 they be witnesses of our weakness and our con- 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 347 
 
 ceit, smile at our folly, as we smile at the igno- 
 rance of the savage, who refuses to believe in the 
 possibility of men communicating their intimate 
 thoughts to each other in full detail, without be- 
 ing in presence of each other, and without the 
 aid of the voice ? He also mocks at any one 
 who tells him, " There are men who possess 
 higher minds and greater cultivation than we ; 
 they can communicate and make themselves intel- 
 ligible to each other, though separated by thou- 
 sands of miles, though mountains, seas, rivers, 
 and deserts intervene between them." And 
 when he is told of the art of letter- writing, he 
 takes it for supernatural sorcery. 
 
 Is not the relation in which we stand to our 
 future more exalted state, and to our present 
 comprehension of it, very much the same as that 
 in which the savage stands to us ? 
 
 The belief in the recognition of, and reunion 
 with, our beloved ones of this world in the future 
 existence beyond the grave, is coincident with the 
 belief in true immortality. We cannot separate 
 the one from the other without at once destroying 
 our conception of the perfection and love of God. 
 Therefore, though our ideas of the future life 
 may be very imperfect, and indeed they cannot 
 be otherwise, let us remain satisfied with vague 
 fore shado wings of what will be our destiny there. 
 We are but children ; let us, then, think of, and 
 believe in, that future existence with childlike 
 
348 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 simplicity. For that which will take place when 
 the corruptible shall put on incorruption, that no 
 mortal can conceive, no human language express. 
 
 Yet the influence of the thought of immortality 
 and of reunion in eternity on the heart is such, 
 that we cannot but desire frequently to occupy 
 ourselves with it. Our Divine Master did not in 
 vain give us a conception of it. We shall recog- 
 nize each other, and our deeds shall cleave to us. 
 He distinctly tells us this in his description of the 
 great day of judgment and retribution. " Where 
 have we seen thee ? Where have we had an op- 
 portunity of doing good to thee ? " inquire the 
 righteous and the sinners in the parable ; and the 
 answer is : " Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as 
 ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
 brethren, ye have done it unto me." (Matt. xxv. 
 40.) 
 
 The thought of reunion in eternity has, as I 
 have said, a powerful influence on our moral life. 
 What wonder is it that those who cannot look 
 forward to this reunion otherwise than as a mo- 
 ment of indescribable terror, should try to destroy 
 their own belief in it ? What wonder is it that 
 those who cannot dwell on the idea without shud- 
 dering, should prefer to exert their intellect to 
 the utmost to find plausible arguments against its 
 truth, — should prefer to live in contradiction with 
 their own reason, with their own conceptions of 
 the" power, greatness, wisdom, and justice of God, 
 rather than admit this truth ? 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 349 
 
 But not what man wills, not what he chooses, 
 will take place, but what the Eternal God wills, 
 that which he has pre-ordained in the harmonious 
 organization of the universe, that which he has 
 revealed to us by general and unmistakable intui- 
 tions, that which he has declared to us through 
 his holy Word. 
 
 Yea, frivolous mother and unprincipled father, 
 ye shall stand face to face again with the children 
 whom ye neglected, whom ye left in such shame- 
 ful ignorance, that vice sprung up in their hearts 
 as weeds spring up in the uncleansed soil. You 
 will recognize them in their degraded state, and 
 their crimes will rise up in judgment against 
 you, even yon side the grave, — for it was your 
 guilty neglect that left their young hearts to go 
 astray. 
 
 And thou who here on earth, in thy base self- 
 ishness, art a world and a God to thyself; who, 
 entertaining supreme indifference towards thy fel- 
 low-men, thinkest only of thyself, and esteemest 
 those fools who labor disinterestedly for others, 
 or perhaps even sacrifice part of their own happi- 
 ness to secure that of their fellow-creatures ; who 
 wilt thou meet in eternity ? Thou who never 
 thoughtest of others, but only of thyself, who 
 wilt thou meet to give to thee those thanks that 
 are due to virtue ? No one ! Thou wilt stand 
 alone in the better world, alone and unloved, a 
 stranger to all who surround thee. No loving 
 
350 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 soul is there yearning for thy presence. Thou 
 art one of those who have had their reward. For 
 thou didst selfishly stipulate and receive thy pay- 
 ment for whatever good thou mayest have done 
 on earth. When thou gavest alms, when thou 
 didst found charitable institutions, or contribute 
 thy mite to undertakings for the benefit of the 
 commonwealth, it was with a desire to gain favor 
 in the eyes of the world, it was with a view to 
 reaping honors in return. Thou hast passed 
 through life without love, without friendship, be- 
 cause thou believedst all other men to be as 
 selfish and as basely interested as thyself, — with- 
 out love, without friendship, thou shalt enter the 
 ranks of the immortals, and stand alone among 
 the blessed. 
 
 We shall meet again in eternity ! Tremble, 
 covetous wretch and heartless profligate, who 
 have despoiled the unprotected widow and help- 
 less orphans, or squandered in dissipation the sums 
 winch pious forefathers bequeathed for the as- 
 sistance of the indigent and unfortunate. Know 
 that every sigh your hard-heartedness has drawn 
 from those you have oppressed has been heard 
 by the omnipresent God ! Know that the tears 
 which some poor innocent has shed in secret at 
 your injustice have been seen by an omniscient 
 God ! And these sighs will be counted out to 
 you, and the tears measured before you. You 
 will meet again the unhappy victims whom you 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 351 
 
 deceived with impunity here below. In the next 
 world your deeds of darkness will be dragged 
 into broad daylight. Your hypocrisy will be 
 of no avail yonder, where the All-Just One 
 reigns and judges. Delude yourselves on earth, 
 delude others as well ; but in the end no delu- 
 sion can prevail ! Proclaim, while here on earth, 
 there is no God, no eternity, no reunion ! Even 
 here, the voice of conscience, in serious moments, 
 contradicts the subtle falsehood; even here, your 
 guilty hearts palpitate at the fearful thought; 
 but God is, and yon side the grave is eternity, 
 -where judgment, and the spirits of those you have 
 wronged, await you ! Your intellectual subtlety, 
 your loud denial, cannot destroy eternal truth. 
 
 God, eternity, judgment, and meeting again 
 of spirits ! Listen to this, shameless voluptuary ; 
 and turn pale at the possibility, tremble at the 
 reality ! Listen to this, deceitful seducer of inno- 
 cence ; listen to this, father of poor, abandoned, 
 despised orphans, on whom thou hast bestowed 
 life, poverty, and shame ; thou shalt meet them 
 again ! Those whom thou hast disowned in this 
 world, those whom here on earth thou madest the 
 companions of wretchedness and despair, shall wit- 
 ness against thee in eternity ! Merciless father 
 and seducer, there is a God and a day of retribu- 
 tion ; and that day will find thee without consola- 
 tion. The innocence that fell a victim to thy 
 lusts, and which was by thee given over to perdi- 
 
352 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 tion and everlasting tears of despair, shall witness 
 against thee ! 
 
 The thoughts of those who have known each 
 other on earth meeting again in eternity, fills the 
 sinner's heart with dismay ; bnt in vain the soul, 
 conscious of its own guilt, resists the conviction. 
 To the holier spirits only is the thought welcome ; 
 only to virtuous minds it brings unutterably sweet 
 hopes. It gives them a vivid sense of the un- 
 dying nature of nobility of soul, of their own 
 dignity, and of their high destination. It renders 
 life less burdensome to them, and sweetens the 
 hour of death. It strengthens then* endeavors 
 to grow hi virtue, and their power to overcome 
 evil. They understand the meaning of the sacred 
 words : " He that overcome th shall not be hurt 
 of the second death." (Rev. ii. 11.) 
 
 Righteous old man, who with failing powers art 
 tottering towards the end of thy career, weary, 
 and longing for rest, — thou art happy ! Thou 
 knowest what awaits thee ; thou knowest what 
 thou leavest ! What happiness has earth still for 
 thee ? Thy senses are blunted ; thy spirit can no 
 longer work through them, no longer reveal itself 
 through them with the same power. Thus also 
 in the old fruit-tree, though the wonderful vital 
 force (the soul of the tree) is present in unabated 
 vigor, the delicate vessels and tubes through which 
 the nourishing sap, drawn from the earth, is sent 
 upwards through every branch and twig, have 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 353 
 
 become time-worn and hardened. Therefore, 
 though the branches are still clad in verdure, 
 the leaves are sparse, and the tree bears neither 
 bloom nor fruit. 
 
 Thou hast almost become a stranger on earth. 
 The playfellows of thy youth have long since de- 
 parted, all thy best friends thou hast survived, — 
 even the greater number of the faithful compan- 
 ions of thy later years are in the grave. They 
 have gone to rest, and thy dust will soon repose 
 by the side of theirs. 
 
 But beyond the grave is thy fatherland ; there 
 reunion with all the beloved of thy soul awaits 
 thee ; there thou wilt be surrounded by the angels 
 of thy childhood ; there thou wilt behold once 
 more the smile of the beings thou lovedst so ten- 
 derly here below, but whose eyes thou sawest 
 grow dim in death. Soon thy disenthralled spirit 
 will speed to meet them, exclaiming, with exult- 
 ant joy : " Blessed am I ! I have fought a good 
 fight ; blessed be the ineffable love of the eternal 
 Father of spirits ! " 
 
 We shall meet again ! Youth and maiden, 
 righteous children of righteous parents, who la- 
 ment over the death of father and mother, you 
 will meet them again ! The love of these parents 
 was what you valued most on earth. When cares 
 oppressed you, your father's affectionate solicitude 
 soon relieved you of the burden ; when sorrow 
 weighed upon you, your tender mother knew how 
 
 w 
 
354 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 to alleviate it. They have been called away from 
 you ; but yet a little while and they will be re- 
 stored to you. 
 
 There is a way that leads to them, often full of 
 thorns, and wearisome to wander, but unfailing. 
 This is the way which Jesus indicated to his be- 
 loved disciples, that they might find him again. 
 It is the path of virtue, of holy sentiments, and 
 deeds. Never depart from this heavenly path, 
 never be unfaithful to the memory of your par- 
 ents. 
 
 When your youthful blood glows with unwonted 
 passions ; when vice approaches you in seductive 
 garb ; when turbulent desires lead you into peril- 
 ous temptations ; when a moment comes in which 
 you feel yourselves wavering between innocence 
 and guilt, between generosity and meanness ; 
 when all good resolves seem to abandon you ; 
 when even the voice of religion has lost its power 
 over your hearts, — O then think of the beloved 
 deceased and of your future meeting with them, 
 and you will recover your dignity, and resume 
 your allegiance to virtue ! 
 
 Remember the beloved ones who have gone 
 before you, and your future reunion with them, 
 when you are praying in the house of God, and 
 when at your daily avocations. Remember them 
 when you are quaffing the cup of pleasure, when 
 you are engaged in the turmoil of business, and 
 when depressed by misfortune, — and you will 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 355 
 
 not lose sight of the path that leads to them ! 
 Love is an invisible spiritual bond ; it reaches 
 across the grave into the happy regions of the 
 better world ; it knits together kindred souls on 
 earth and in heaven, in like manner as the love 
 of God embraces the entire universe, and upholds 
 and blesses it. 
 
 Remember the beloved ones and your reunion 
 with them whenever an opportunity offers to per- 
 form a noble deed, to do good to an enemy, to 
 rebuke the evil-speaking of a slanderer, to help a 
 poor and suffering family, to originate some under- 
 taking of a generally useful character, — you will 
 then fight the good fight for the crown of life, 
 and your guardian angels will rejoice, for eternity 
 is opening its portals to you. 
 
 We shall be reunited ! Dry your tears, O 
 father or mother, who art weeping for a beloved 
 and promising child, and thou also, lonely widow, 
 sorrowing in solitude ; cease to grieve, sister, for 
 thy much-regretted brother, or brother for thy 
 sister ; friend, mourn no longer for the friend torn 
 from thy bosom. Close all wounds that torture 
 tender hearts ! The dead are still alive. We 
 are not parted forever. Reunion awaits us all ! 
 
 Divinely revealed truth,. be my blessed comfort 
 evermore. I also have lost what I loved. I also, 
 when in solitude, weep for the sweetest joys of 
 my life, which have descended into the grave. 
 Into the grave ? Ah, no ; for it was not the clay 
 
356 INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 
 
 that I loved, but the soul, which smiled to me 
 through the gentle eyes, and which spoke the 
 words of tenderness that sounded from the elo- 
 quent lips. And this soul still lives, for God 
 lives. It still loves, for God loves. O heavenly 
 thought ! I am still cherished by my dear ones 
 in the better world, with a purer, nobler, and 
 more tender affection than here in the dust. 
 
 Ye love me, O ye dear ones, for whom my 
 tears flow, whom my love follows yon side the 
 grave. Love me, and the grave cannot separate 
 us. How can it separate those whom God united 
 here below in such tender bonds ? My sadness 
 is not the fruit of doubt, but of my longing for 
 you. We shall be with each other again in that 
 blessed land, where there is no sorrow and no 
 parting, but only perfection and bliss inexpressi- 
 ble. The Creator made us for each other, and 
 he created us not only for this earthly life, but for 
 eternal existence. In this world he only allowed 
 us, as it were, to catch a glimpse of each other, 
 that we might aspire the more ardently towards 
 our higher goal. He attached our hearts to 
 heaven, not only by the bonds of faith, but like- 
 wise by those of love. 
 
 Yes ; on the other side the grave, not here 
 on earth, is my real fatherland, my true home. 
 Towards the land where my loved ones dwell, 
 turn my tearful eyes ; to it ascend my devout 
 thoughts, my sacred vows. Yes ; though abiding 
 
INTERPRETATIONS OF ETERNITY. 357 
 
 on earth, I will live for eternity ; among mortals 
 I will live for the immortal ones who have gone 
 before me. If there be a sin cleaving to me, I 
 will cleanse myself of it. If there be an impure 
 desire poisoning my heart, I will banish it forth- 
 with. If there be a wrong that I have commit- 
 ted, I will repair it. If there be a fellow-being 
 whom I have offended, I will seek reconciliation. 
 We shall, we must, be reunited. O God, I 
 thank thee for thy overflowing grace and mercy. 
 What return can I make ? I feel my poverty, 
 my impotence ; but I feel also that through thee, 
 my God, my Eternal Father, the universe is blest. 
 I will seek solitude, I will fall down before thee, 
 with mingled tears of sadness and joy, and my 
 sighs and my tears shall glorify thee in silence. 
 
MEMORIAL FESTIVAL OF OUR TRI- 
 UMPH OVER DEATH. 
 
 Yes ; thou shalt rise again, my dust, more blest 
 After thy hasty rest. 
 Undying life to live, 
 Will He who made thee give. 
 Praised be he ! 
 
 Sown but to bloom again once more, was I. 
 The Harvest Lord goes by ; 
 He gathers in the sheaves, 
 Nor thine, nor mine he leaves : 
 Praised be he ! 
 
 O day of gratitude ! day of bliss ! 
 God's own best day is this, 
 "Which, my short slumber o'er, 
 Prom the cold grave once more 
 Shall waken me. 
 
 How like a dream will it then seem to me ; 
 With Jesus shall I be, 
 In all his joys I share, 
 Each weary pilgrim care 
 Is past for me. 
 
 O, to the Holiest, my Redeemer, lead, — 
 Then shall I live indeed 
 In sanctity, there raise 
 My voice, his name to praise, 
 Poreverrnore ! 
 
 (Luke xxiv. 5, 6.) 
 
OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 359 
 
 ttjj^)HY seek ye the living among the dead? 
 asked the angels of the sorrowing 
 women who came to the sepnlchre 
 of the Saviour ; " He is not here, 
 but is risen." (Luke xxiv. 5, 6.) 
 
 He is risen ! The disciples heard the tidings, 
 and a thrill of awe and joy passed through their 
 souls, and courage revived in the hearts of the 
 timid among them, who, since the death of their 
 Lord, had been roaming about like sheep that 
 have lost their shepherd. 
 
 He is risen ! The persecutors and murderers 
 of the Messiah heard it, and were terror-stricken. 
 They refused to believe in the miracle. They 
 endeavored to put it down by audacious falsehood. 
 They asserted that his disciples had stolen away 
 the dead body. But in vain was their clamor ! 
 The living Christ appeared before his followers ; 
 he appeared in the land of Galilee. He is risen ! 
 cried the exultant heavens ; and all times, all 
 centuries to come, will repeat the joyful cry. 
 
 My soul also rejoices that he is risen. His 
 triumph is my triumph ; his victory over death 
 and the grave is also mine ; his life is my life. 
 The festival of his wonderful resurrection from 
 the grave and from corruption is also the memo- 
 rial feast of my future elevation above the world 
 and death, when the corruptible shall put on in- 
 corruption, and the mortal the immortal. 
 
 His resurrection completed the work of the 
 
300 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 
 
 Messiah on earth. He had lived, taught, and 
 performed good deeds ; the holy seed of God was 
 sown, but the soil was still untilled, the growth 
 of the seed uncertain. Christ was still misjudged 
 by many; the purpose of his coining was not 
 understood, even by his most intimate friends. 
 They hoped that he had come to found an earthly 
 throne ; to restore the kingdom of David ; to free 
 them from the dominion of Rome ; to establish 
 the rule and the power of the Jews over all the 
 nations of the earth. This was their hope. Yet 
 the Messiah had said, " My kingdom is not of 
 this world." 
 
 He was doomed to suffering and death, to seal 
 the truth of his doctrine with his blood, to fall a 
 willing victim for the sins of the world, and to 
 bring the sacrificial worship of the Hebrews to an 
 end by his death. He suffered the death of the 
 World-Redeemer. His blood was, as it were, re- 
 quired to make the seeds of godliness germinate, 
 which he had sown in the rough soil of the human 
 heart. 
 
 But his work was not finished. With him died 
 the courage of his first followers. 
 
 Their bright dreams of earthly power and 
 splendor were destroyed, and with them also 
 their hopes and prospects. 
 
 His death had rendered incomprehensible to 
 them what he had taught and prophesied. The 
 life of the Messiah had become a mystery to them, 
 
OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 361 
 
 their own destination a secret. That which had 
 been begun was not completed, but was broken 
 off. Gloomy doubts obscured their souls, as the 
 night of the sepulchre hid the corpse of their 
 Divine Master. 
 
 Just then the tidings broke upon them : He is 
 risen ! And, lo ! a new day dawned upon them. 
 The mystery that clothed his words was at once 
 solved ; they comprehended his prophecies ; they 
 understood his divinity. Full of holy enthusiasm, 
 they responded to his call. Now, shame and 
 honor, life and death, were as naught to them 
 when compared to the message he had given 
 them to deliver. The seed of God, which he 
 had sown, began to sprout vigorously. His res- 
 urrection acted on it like the breath of spring. 
 Death had vanished ; hell was vanquished ; hu- 
 manity was reconciled to God ; the heavenly 
 kingdom of spirits founded ; he had finished ! 
 Thus the festival of the resurrection of Jesus 
 became the first and most sacred festival of the 
 Christians, and at the same time a memorial feast 
 of their own redemption, through Jesus. Let us 
 keep the feast, said they ; let us do it in remem- 
 brance of the purification from sin, of which we 
 are made capable, through his word ; let us cast 
 away every vicious tendency that desecrates us. 
 For as a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump, 
 so doth the smallest sin dishonor and desecrate 
 the whole dignity of man. " Therefore, let us 
 
 16 
 
362 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 
 
 keep the feast," cries St. Paul, " not with old 
 leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and 
 wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of 
 sincerity and truth." (1 Cor. v. 8.) 
 
 As Jesus finished his task, so will I finish mine. 
 As he completed the redemption of a world from 
 the fetters of sin and error, so will I complete 
 my sanctification through faith in him and in his 
 word. If his life be my life, then also is his vic- 
 tory my victory, his glorification my glorification, 
 — then shall I not taste death. My spirit shall 
 soar triumphantly above the grave and the dust 
 of earth, towards heaven. 
 
 I will seek redemption through Jesus, for in 
 no one else is there salvation. To be redeemed 
 through him is to become like unto him ; to be 
 pure in mind, and to do good ; to be free from 
 every sin, and to live for God alone ; to act in 
 my appointed sphere with godlike nobleness of 
 soul, without selfishness, without base motives ; 
 to recognize in the world of spirits my home, in 
 the Creator of the boundless universe my Father, 
 and my kindred in all created beings like myself, 
 who lie worshipping at his feet ; to seek my hap- 
 piness, not in the dust and in the fleeting things 
 of this earth, but in eternity. 
 
 Christ has risen from the dead ; he has finished 
 his work. I also shall rise again, and shall com- 
 plete my work. If I live in the spirit of Jesus, 
 the grave has no terrors for me. The grave can 
 
OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 363 
 
 only hold my corpse ; my corpse is dust and ashes ; 
 dust and ashes in themselves have no life ; but 
 the soul is life ; therefore my soul cannot die. 
 
 Cannot die ? Not so ! Did not Jesus himself 
 say, " Fear not those who would kill the body, 
 but those who would kill the soul " ? And what 
 is the death of the soul ? Sin. 
 
 Where there is sin, there the lusts of the body 
 prevail ; there reason is silent ; there the con- 
 science is stifled ; there the activity of the spirit! 
 is paralyzed ; there is death. Sin is the death of 
 the spirit. In like manner as a dead human body 
 is insensible to all influences that may be brought 
 to bear upon it, so is the spirit when vice has con- 
 quered. As the dead body is without strength, 
 so also the spirit loses its power when the brute 
 instincts are triumphant. As the dead body is 
 without a will, so also the spirit loses all freedom, 
 where passions, such as worldly ambition, luxuri- 
 ousness, voluptuousness, covetousness, and malice, 
 prevail. 
 
 Therefore is sin the death of the spirit ! And 
 can a spirit, that has not lived a true life on earth, 
 continue to live when its body dies ? Does it not 
 sleep the eternal sleep ? Will it not be as if it 
 had never existed ? 
 
 It is from that death that Jesus has rescued us 
 by his doctrine, not from the death of the body. 
 This death we must all die. But when we sanc- 
 tify ourselves, that is, when we purify ourselves 
 
364 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 
 
 from all vicious tendencies, from all animal and 
 sinful desires, our spirits imbibe eternal life in 
 vigorous draughts. The death of the body is not 
 the death of the soul. If, then, a/ perfect soul, 
 after the example of Jesus, does not die, of what 
 importance is the decay of our bodies ? We live ! 
 what matters it that the earthly coil which clings 
 to us should fall away ? We live, and live through 
 the word of Jesus ; and we may exclaim with 
 rapture : Where is thy sting, O death ? O hell, 
 where is thy victory ? Praised be God, who has 
 given us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ ! 
 
 If sin be the death of the soul, then virtue, or 
 likeness to God, must be its life. Every infrac- 
 tion of the divine laws is a death-wound inflicted 
 on the spirit, and every deed pleasant in the sight 
 of God is a quickening of our spiritual life. 
 
 And thus I understand when it is said, that the 
 wages of sin are death ! When it is said, that 
 Christ saved us from death, by showing us the 
 way of life. Yes ; he has saved us from death, 
 by showing us the way of life ; by pointing out to 
 us our high destination, and teaching us to know 
 our own dignity ; by affording us the surest 
 means to reach perfection : his own example ; 
 and by bidding us deny ourselves and our sinful 
 desires, and follow him. Therefore, using figura- 
 tive language, he called himself our way to life. 
 
 Christ has risen ! He has finished gloriously 
 
OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 365 
 
 his divine mission ; he has conquered death for 
 me, if in my life I do show forth his merits and 
 his holiness, and avoid sin, which is spiritual death. 
 
 As Christ had not finished until his task on 
 earth was completed, until the grave and death 
 had been conquered, until his disciples had been 
 consecrated, and he had returned to his Father ; 
 so shall I not have finished until I have reached 
 the end of my career. As long as I remain on 
 earth my existence will be a constant wrestling 
 with sin, a constant struggle with death. Not 
 until I have reached the end will it be proved 
 whether my spirit has conquered death and sin, 
 whether I have fought the good fight, whether I 
 have won the promised palm of life. How long 
 shall this struggle still endure ? When shall I 
 rejoice in my victory over death and sin ? 
 
 However long it may be, I will hold fast my 
 faith, and shall not weary. " For he that over- 
 cometh, saith the Lord, shall inherit all things, 
 and I will be his God and he shall be my son." 
 (Rev. xxi. 7.) And however long my struggle 
 may still endure, the festival of the Messiah's 
 completion of his work shall be to me a reminder 
 of the victory I also must win. Ah, that I might 
 be able each time I celebrate thy victory, O 
 Saviour, to celebrate also my triumph over death 
 and sin ! 
 
 Blessed are ye, O glorified spirits, who have 
 already overcome ! O ye beloved of Jesus ! ye 
 
366 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 
 
 saints of God ! in solemn silence I will celebrate 
 the memory of your triumph also. Ye have 
 fought the fight; I am still wrestling with sin. 
 Ye are rejoicing, having reached the gO"al ; I am 
 still weeping at my shortcomings. 
 
 Blessed are ye, ye have conquered death in 
 Jesus, and with Jesus ! The resurrection of the 
 Lord became your resurrection. He has risen ; 
 he lives ; and ye live with him. 
 
 He lives ! He is risen ! The heavenly assur- 
 ance that this gives us, that we also shall rise from 
 the dead, quickens the wounded hearts of the dis- 
 consolate mourners who despair at their lost joys. 
 To us also God has promised immortal life ; our 
 souls shall not be victims of the grave. 
 
 He lives ! he is risen ! O disconsolate father, 
 why walkest thou so sad and un sympathizing 
 among thy fellow-men, seeking the child of whom 
 death has robbed thee ? O mother, why dost 
 thou weep on the tomb of thy darling, calling him 
 by his name, and asking the silent and myste- 
 rious grave to give him back to thee ? Why, O 
 mourners, do ye seek the living among the dead ? 
 Those ye love are not there ; they are in the 
 bosom of the Father ! Celebrate cheerfully the 
 Easter festival. It is the festival of the Resurrec- 
 tion, and of the remembrance of our victory over 
 death. Father, mother, think of this ! There is 
 no wall of separation between life and eternity ; 
 there is no real separation from those ye so ten- 
 
OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 367 
 
 derly loved. Your child lives. Ye also shall 
 live hereafter, for Jesus lives, God lives. There 
 is no death, except through sin. 
 
 He lives ! he is risen ! Unhappy husband, why 
 pinest thou to descend into the silent tomb, where 
 she sleeps who was thy noblest possession on 
 earth, thy all in all ? Her dust rests there, it is 
 true. But why seekest thou the living among 
 the dead ? The grave is not the home of her 
 spirit, which was born to eternal life. Its home 
 is in the bosom of God. God is with you ; how, 
 then, are you separated ? She lives, and thou 
 livest, and God embraces you both. Fight out 
 thy fight, O mourner! the apparent separation 
 will not be for long. Celebrate cheerfully the 
 Easter festival. It is the feast of the Resurrec- 
 tion, and of our own victory over death. 
 
 He lives ! he is risen ! Yet thou, O lonely 
 widow, thou still lamentest with stubborn grief 
 over thy departed husband? Thou, O desolate 
 maiden, askest the grave to give up the loved one 
 whom it tore from thy bleeding heart? Thou, 
 brother, still grieve st for the sister who faded in 
 early youth? Thou, sister, weepest bitter tears 
 over a brother gone to rest? Whom seek ye, 
 then, in the grave, my friends? Why seek ye 
 the living among the dead ? They are not there ; 
 they are with God. Celebrate cheerfully and 
 trustingly the Easter festival, — the festival of 
 the Resurrection, and of our victory over death. 
 
368 MEMORIAL FESTIVAL 
 
 Christ lives ! He is risen ! I also shall live 
 and be with God. Jesus' resurrection is my 
 resurrection, because his life is to be my life. 
 We are not the prey of the grave ! O ye who 
 have already overcome, and ye who will one day 
 overcome, we are all God's children? Why 
 should we despair? 
 
 O'er earth and time, my soul mount high, 
 O'er death and o'er mortality, 
 
 Upraise thee, trembling soul. 
 Thy fatherland is there, in heaven ; 
 The resurrection was but given 
 
 To lead thee to thy goal. 
 E'en here, amidst the wreck of death, 
 The higher nature gleams beneath. 
 
 Dry leaves are all thou look'st on here, 
 'T is dust of dust that fills the bier, — 
 
 Thy brother's earthly shell. 
 The fragile shell may broken be, 
 And waste away ; but not o'er thee 
 
 Prevails the grave's dark spell. 
 Free from the burden of life's pain, 
 Thy high reward awaits thee then. 
 
 The Father's love thou then wilt see, 
 His love will comprehended be, 
 
 His foresight wilt thou reach. 
 Creation's vast unbounded scheme, 
 The countless myriad worlds that gleam, 
 
 "Will all his wisdom teach. 
 Bright midst the starry host divine 
 Shall the new earth and heaven outshine. 
 
OF OUR TRIUMPH OVER DEATH. 369 
 
 Then, full of joy and reverence deep, 
 To-day thy resurrection keep 
 
 With Christ, — thy life, thy light. 
 The blessed hope of Heaven regained, 
 The endless, Godlike life attained, 
 
 In his own holy height. 
 Was not Christ's coming but for this : 
 Man to perfect, and win us bliss 1 
 
 16* 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 He left, with honor crowned, his rock-hewn tomb, 
 And God was reconciled to man. The gloom, 
 
 The curse, from Mount Sinai has passed by. 
 Instead of death, he gave us life above ; 
 Instead of wrath, he gave us heavenly love, 
 
 And confidence through his own victory. 
 He, he alone, fulfilled it in that hour, — 
 The work of grace, of mercy, and of power : 
 
 All praise unto the resurrection be ! 
 Death may appear, 
 We know no fear, 
 
 Death-Destroyer, for we follow thee ! 
 
 Shout, shout aloud to God with joyful voice ! 
 Let the whole universe in praise rejoice, 
 
 The conquest has been gained, the battle 's done, 
 All that was dim and doubtful is made clear, 
 God's will is spoken so that all may hear, 
 
 He, the Most Holy, has the victory won. 
 Shall I not, then, with stronger courage bear 
 The galling weight of earthly grief and care ? 
 
 Can what God loveth ever be cast down ? 
 Raise thine eyes 
 Unto the skies 
 
 And know, the Eternal cannot be o'erthrown. 
 
 (Rom. viii. 28.) 
 
 ;FTER the death of Jesus, his disci- 
 ples fled in fear and trembling. They 
 sought solitude to weep over the death 
 of their Divine Master, and also con- 
 cealment from the sanguinary cruelty of the 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 371 
 
 Jews. And in the first bitterness of their sorrow 
 at the loss of their dearly beloved friend, many 
 doubts probably arose in their breast. I seem to 
 hear their complaints : " Jesus, our Divine Mas- 
 ter, fell a victim to cruel murderers. How could 
 God forsake the beloved One who called himself 
 his Son ? How could the Most Holy allow the 
 base multitude to point the finger of scorn at the 
 Holy One ? Who will venture to be virtuous 
 and just, if virtue and justice lead to the felon's 
 doom, while vice triumphs and prospers? Is 
 there a Judge on high, and yet he is silent? Is 
 there an all-loving God in the universe, and yet 
 he permits the innocent to suffer painfully for 
 deeds of which he has not been guilty ? Permits 
 him to suffer without succor, without alleviation, 
 without consolation ? Does God dissever the 
 sacred bonds of love which his own hand has 
 woven, and does he leave hearts to bleed to death 
 of wounds which have been inflictea oecause they 
 trusted in him? " 
 
 But on the third day the strange rumor spread 
 through the land : The crucified has risen ! The 
 unjust rulers, the murderers, were seized with 
 terror ; but endeavored to allay their fears by 
 doubts and denial. The friends of Jesus heard 
 the tidings, and, though still doubting, they were 
 filled with gladness. They afterwards beheld 
 their Master like one glorified, and with feelings 
 of devotional joy and awe they stammered forth, 
 
372 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 " My Lord and my God ! r (John xx. 28.) 
 Holiness had triumphed. 
 
 Jesus had won the great victory ; his innocence 
 had triumphed gloriously over all his past suf- 
 ferings ; the Divine character of his revelations 
 was made wonderfully manifest to those who still 
 required such a test. Treachery, persecution, 
 crucifixion, death, and the grave had proved of 
 no avail; They had only been permitted that they 
 might swell the triumph of the eternal Son. And 
 thus, in this superlative instance also, we behold, 
 as in a great picture, the manifestation of the 
 blissful truth, which the Holy Scriptures hold 
 forth to us to this day : " We know that all things 
 work together for good to them that love God." 
 (Rom. viii. 28.) That which is holy must ulti- 
 mately be triumphant. 
 
 But what is holiness in the spiritual world? I 
 will tell thee. It is immaculate purity ! It is 
 that which maintains itself in its native simplicity 
 without any admixture of things which do not 
 belong to it. Therefore, that mind must be called 
 holy in which only the purest virtue dwells, and 
 no passion, no tendency to sin. Consequently, 
 the spirit may be said to be sanctified when it is 
 unstained by anything earthly, when it is not 
 swayed by the influences of the body, but deter- 
 mines and guides itself solely by its indwelling 
 Divine laws. Such a spirit is sure of attaining 
 the highest good ; it approaches daily towards 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 373 
 
 perfection. Purity is indestructible, eternal ; only 
 that which is mixed, compounded of various ele- 
 ments, is perishable, for it ultimately dissolves 
 again into the elements of which it is composed. 
 
 This truth holds good of the living and of the 
 dead. It is a law of nature. Everything in the 
 world which we perceive through our senses is 
 composed of simple substances. As soon as these 
 combine, their purity is alloyed. But when, as 
 compound substances, they are destroyed, they 
 immediately return to their primitive purity. 
 Thus gold is valuable in proportion to its purity. 
 In vain is every attempt to destroy it by fire. 
 The ashes of burnt wood can never again become 
 wood ; but gold, when subjected to the action of 
 fire, only throws off the dross that is mixed with 
 it, and comes out of the crucible purer and more 
 valuable than before. The same is the case with 
 a holy mind when it passes through the purifying 
 fire of earthly tribulation. It throws off the sen- 
 suous desire for honors, wealth, and other enjoy- 
 ments, which may still cling to it, and comes forth 
 purer and holier, and with intensified conscious- 
 ness of its own spotlessness. 
 
 Holiness wins the victory. The history of all 
 times and all nations proclaims it. Many errors 
 have prevailed since the beginning of the world ; 
 but they disappear gradually as men learn to know 
 truth. No error can endure forever ; while, on the 
 other hand, since the beginning of time no truth has 
 
374 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 ever perished. Each truth acquired is handed 
 down from generation to generation as a precious 
 treasure, and one century inherits it from another. 
 No doubt it may at times be obscured by passing 
 errors, as is the sun by passing clouds. But the 
 clouds are no part of the sun, and truth remains 
 ever distinct from error. It has, therefore, each 
 time come forth the more majestically from out 
 of the dark mists of ignorance. Human violence 
 may indeed do much to impede its progress, — 
 may silence men's tongues by fear, so that they 
 venture not to declare the truth, and may perse- 
 cute it even unto death. But it lives on in noble 
 minds, though all lips be mute ; for though tongues 
 may be restrained, thought cannot be coerced. 
 The spirit is free within the realm of thought. 
 It scorns the impotence of man ; and on the grave 
 of many a persecutor, Truth has, with undying 
 energy, once more reared her divine banner. 
 
 Holy as truth is goodness. The history of the 
 world bears witness to it. The good that has 
 happened on earth has been followed by blessed 
 and lasting consequences. For only that which 
 is good and just is in harmony with nature and 
 with the soul. Evil, on the contrary, is in antago- 
 nism with the entire creation. Crime has indeed 
 often been clad in royal purple, and has often 
 trampled on innocence with impunity. But the 
 purple has mouldered away, the crime remained a 
 crime, and from the blood of the persecuted inno- 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 375 
 
 cence has arisen a triumphant avenger. In vain 
 vice sharpened its murderous axe, and doomed 
 virtue to die in the flames ; though trembling 
 cowards burnt incense before the ruthless tyrant, 
 the sinner's pride was soon laid low, and the 
 funeral pile of slandered innocence was changed 
 into a throne of glory. 
 
 For this reason the memory of wise and virtu- 
 ous men has ever been revered even by very re- 
 mote posterity. They have been the benefactors 
 of entire nations and of generations of men ; 
 but being misjudged and scorned either by the 
 ignorance or malice of their contemporaries, they 
 have too frequently been the victims of their own 
 goodness, and of the barbarity of others. But 
 was the cause for which they fought therefore 
 extinguished ? No ; that which was holy re- 
 mained ultimately triumphant. With calm con- 
 sciousness of the good they had bestowed upon 
 the world, the noble spirits of these victims of 
 human oppression rose purified and exultant to 
 heaven, there to receive a more glorious palm of 
 victory than could be won on earth. "What did 
 they lose by being misjudged by the world ? In 
 carrying out their virtuous purposes they thought 
 not of the world's applause, but acted sponta- 
 neously, urged on by their inward instincts and 
 aspirations. They were consoled by their firm 
 conviction that they were accomplishing that 
 which would tend to increase the happiness of 
 
376 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 mankind, and which would never be destroyed. 
 And they did not deceive themselves. For that 
 which is holy ever triumphs ; and posterity names 
 with a blessing the men whom their contempora- 
 ries condemned. 
 
 The remembrance hereof ought to strengthen 
 and elevate our minds, and to inspire us with 
 courage and unswerving determination to act so 
 as to gain the approval of God. In like manner 
 as the wisest and noblest among our predecessors 
 ever moved onward with their eyes fixed upon 
 God, and trusting in the righteousness of their 
 cause, so let us also uphold the cause which we 
 consider good and just, and likely to diffuse hap- 
 piness, though the base multitude may scoff at us, 
 and accuse us of low and selfish motives, and per- 
 secute and ill-treat us ; for that which is holy will 
 ultimately gain the victory ! 
 
 Be thou my example, O Christ, Friend of man ; 
 thou, who in the great battle with fate didst not 
 allow thyself to be led away from the divine path 
 by temptations or by threats ; but didst persevere 
 in love and well-doing, though surrounded by 
 hatred and persecution, — be thou my example in 
 action. 
 
 Be thou also my example in patient suffering, 
 thou greatest of sufferers, who, when forsaken by 
 all, when betrayed by thy bosom friend, when 
 thine enemies rejoiced openly at thy fall, when 
 thy most faithful followers fled from before thee, 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 377 
 
 and the most zealous denied thee, — still remained 
 meek and humble, unshaken in thy sublime 
 grandeur of soul, in thy heavenly virtue. 
 
 And be my example, my strengthe'ner in hope, 
 Saviour, risen from the dead, who, in the majesty 
 of thy victory, didst annihilate the powers of evil 
 that arose against thee, blessed the world, glori- 
 ously rewarded the devotion of thy beloved dis- 
 ciples, and beheld the heavens opening to receive 
 thee, while the nations of the earth lay worship- 
 ping at thy feet. 
 
 That which is holy ever remains triumphant ; 
 therefore be holy. Only that which is impure 
 decays and perishes ; therefore avoid all that is 
 impure ! Has the voice of God, speaking through 
 the marvels of nature, through human events, 
 and through the holy words of revealed religion, 
 no power over thy heart ? 
 
 Be holy ; that is, be pure. Beware not to let 
 sensual influences obtain too great a hold over thy 
 mind, and whatever thou undertakest, let it never 
 be for the sake of earthly reward. Do the good 
 that thou art able to do, or that thou mayest wish 
 to do, without any hope of reaping honors or riches 
 in return. If thou lookest for such return, O 
 verily, then thou dost but make virtue the tool of 
 thy baseness, and thou must be counted among 
 those of whom the Saviour said, " They have 
 their reward ! " Love thy fellow-beings ; help 
 them with a good- will whenever thou canst do so ; 
 
378 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 alleviate misery as far as it lies in thy power; 
 speak well of others whenever an opportunity 
 offers ; promote useful undertakings even when 
 commenced by others ; but do all this, not in order 
 to make thyself beloved in return, not in order to 
 win a reputation, but because thou art convinced 
 that what thou dost is right and good, that the 
 deed is worthy of thee, that through it thou mani- 
 festest that perfection which thine own conscience, 
 thy God, and thy Saviour demand of thee. In act- 
 ing thus, thou wilt keep thyself pure from gross 
 earthly influences, thou wilt sanctify thy mind. 
 
 Go forth and arrest the evil that others may 
 be planning ; comfort the unhappy whose misfor- 
 tunes thou canst not prevent ; try to promote the 
 interests even of those who may have sought to 
 injure thee ; convince thine enemy, by thy gener- 
 ous acts towards him, that he has formed an erro- 
 neous opinion of thee ; but do not these things 
 from fear, but from a sense of duty, from the feel- 
 ing that a true Christian cannot think and act 
 otherwise. Then thy deed will be free from im- 
 pure earthly alloy, and will be solely the fruit of 
 the spirit called to immortality and perfection. 
 To do thus is to approach the goal of holiness ; 
 and that which is holy is triumphant at last ! 
 Therefore persevere without ceasing in thy pure 
 aspirations, and do not allow thyself to be led 
 astray by any apparent disadvantages, by any 
 personal annoyance, by any humiliations which 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 379 
 
 thou mayest be subjected to in consequence. He 
 who is incapcoble of such strength and elevation 
 of soul, he will remain lost among the crowd of 
 vulgar minds, and will deserve the ruin which he 
 will bring upon himself by his weakness and his 
 vacillation. 
 
 All men respect in others that firmness of 
 mind and strength of principle which are proof 
 against every fate ; yea, even in bad men, we 
 cannot at times help admiring the extraordinary 
 determination and inflexibility with which they 
 advance towards the end they have marked out 
 for themselves. Only those persons can with 
 truth be called contemptible who have no power 
 over themselves, who are honest to-day, base to- 
 morrow, who are ever vacillating between virtue 
 and vice, sinning and repenting, and who never 
 attain to any kind of self-dependence. We de- 
 spise them, because in them there is no decided 
 purity of will. One day they set virtue aside for 
 fear of exposing themselves to the malicious ob- 
 servations of senseless worldlings, another day 
 they follow virtue because they think that more 
 honor is to be won in this way than in following 
 sin. But they succumb, for only that which is 
 pure and holy ultimately triumphs in life. They 
 fight no real fight against the power and influ- 
 ences of the senses, for their vacillations testify 
 that they are but helpless tools of their own pas- 
 sions. In none of the circumstances of life do 
 
380 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 they show any will or spirit of their own ; what, 
 then, can remain of them when in death they lose 
 the body, which, with its earthly lusts, ruled 
 them ? 
 
 Only that which is holy triumphs ! Remem- 
 ber, O soul, the majesty of Him who has risen 
 from the dead ! When men conspire against thy 
 higher principles, and give thee in return for the 
 good thou hast achieved, not gratitude, but the 
 curse of envy, of jealousy, and malice, — remem- 
 ber him ! Adversity is only a test of thy cour- 
 age, a trial of the strength of thy virtue. It is 
 easy during a lovely summer evening to profess 
 indifference to the inclemency of the weather, or 
 while resting in the lap of peace to boast of the 
 prowess we should give proof of were we to en- 
 counter an enemy ; but it is in bearing up against 
 storm and rain, and the sudden changes of the 
 temperature, that the strong man shows his hardi- 
 ness, and it is amid the sanguinary horrors of the 
 battle-field that the hero proves his courage. 
 
 He who has made up his mind to act purely 
 and nobly, that is to say, to think, and speak, and 
 act according to his best convictions, must be pre- 
 pared to encounter many vexatious obstacles to 
 the carrying out of his good intentions. For if 
 all that is good and useful met with no impedi- 
 ments, his arm and his heart would not be re- 
 quired to promote it. 
 
 Whoever determines to do his best in life, ac- 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 381 
 
 cording to his convictions, — to be just, fair in all 
 his dealings, truthful, and zealous for the public 
 weal, — must be prepared to find numbers of per- 
 sons endeavoring to oppose him. Many, simply 
 because, being of an envious disposition, they hate 
 everything that is praiseworthy which they have 
 not themselves projected or accomplished ; others, 
 because your efforts may possibly be opposed to 
 some selfish plan of theirs, cherished in secret ; 
 some, again, because, being themselves without 
 any inward worth, they are unable to conceive 
 that others are better than themselves, and there- 
 fore attribute base sentiments even to the best of 
 men, and believe that the most upright acts are 
 dictated by selfish motives ; again, many will op- 
 pose you, not because their intentions are less 
 good than your*own, but because their views are 
 totally different, owing to their education, their 
 temperament, their outward circumstances, and 
 experiences of life being different ; others, though 
 they may do full justice to the purity of your in- 
 tentions, will resist you, because they consider 
 you a mere enthusiast. 
 
 But if your convictions are well founded, if 
 you have tried them by the test of your con- 
 science, and conceive them to be in accordance 
 with the will of God, and you know them to be 
 pure from every admixture of passion, — if you 
 firmly believe what you propound to be truth, or 
 what you undertake to be for the benefit of the 
 
382 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 world, — then do not hesitate to remain faithful 
 to yourself! For it is eternally true, that to them 
 that love God, all things work for good. Every 
 obstacle will but stimulate you to greater exer- 
 tion, and will prevent you from relaxing in your 
 efforts ; every contradiction, every objection, will 
 make you reflect, and perhaps turn your atten- 
 tion to points on which you have erred, or on 
 which you might otherwise have gone too far. 
 These impediments will therefore serve to purify 
 your principles from all earthly dross, and render 
 your triumph the more glorious. 
 
 And should the storms that assail thee prove 
 too violent, and thy courage and thy strength 
 threaten to give way, O then think of Him who 
 is risen ! God was with Christ, and God is with 
 every noble soul in its greatest tribulations on 
 earth ; God is with thee, because thou seekest 
 him ! It is possible that thou may est fail ; but 
 what wilt thou lose ? Perhaps the fame of the 
 moment, perhaps thy earthly life. But of what 
 importance are these ? Do these things affect 
 the sublime and immortal essence in thee which 
 we call spirit ? Nay, they are but of the earth, 
 earthy, and in every case vanish in death. Re- 
 main faithful to thyself to the end! The good 
 man may fail, the good cause never ! 
 
 That which is holy is triumphant at last. Jesus, 
 thou who art risen from the dead ; Messiah, 
 wonderful, glorified, majestic Victor over life and 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 383 
 
 death, the halo which surrounds thy grave teaches 
 me to see and to love this great truth. Thou 
 also hast triumphed, and century proclaims it to 
 century with exultant joy ; and the human race, 
 blessed through thee, worship thee. 
 
 Little did thy contemporaries think, whilst thou 
 wert living among them humbly and misjudged, 
 that thy name would become the object of the 
 world's love and reverence. Little did they 
 think, when thou wert preaching the highest 
 and most sacred truths with Divine power and 
 simplicity, that the words spoken by thee in re- 
 mote places, to a small band of followers, would 
 resound through hundreds of years from the lips 
 of millions of men, in all languages, in splendid 
 temples and in desert caves, in the palaces of 
 kings and in the hovels of the poor. Little did 
 they think when thou wert nailed, bleeding, to 
 the cross, between two malefactors, and drew thy 
 last sigh amid the scoffs of the malignant multi- 
 tude, when the faithful doubted, and thy beloved 
 ones fled in dismay ; little did they think that this 
 cross would become the symbol of thy Godlike 
 services to the human race, and would be raised 
 as such in the burning deserts of the tropics, on 
 the ice-fields of the far north, whither no warm 
 sunbeams ever penetrate, on the shores of un- 
 known seas, and on the cloud-capped summits 
 of high mountains. 
 
 But, strengthened by thy victory, and filled 
 
384 THE TRIUMPH OF HOLINESS. 
 
 with the Holy Ghost, thy disciples spread through 
 all parts of the world, and proclaimed to the as- 
 tonished nations the glad tidings of the kingdom 
 of God. In spite of torture, chains, sword, and 
 cross, they completed the great work of the 
 redemption of the world. They fell victims to 
 their zeal, many of them breathed their last 
 under fearful sufferings ; but their cause was 
 triumphant ! 
 
 And I, Jesus Messiah, I will do as they ! I 
 will purify myself of every evil tendency, of 
 every weakness ; I will stand forth in word and 
 deed as a perfect man, who prizes thy word and 
 thy truth above all things. When occasion offers 
 for serving my fellow-men, I will not first self- 
 ishly consider what would be to my own ad- 
 vantage, nor timidly give up what duty bids me 
 do, because of the obstacles and the trouble I 
 may have to encounter. In the end I shall suc- 
 ceed. And my reward I carry in my bosom ; for 
 that which is holy will triumph ! 
 
THE CONNECTION BETWEEN LIFE 
 AND ETERNITY. 
 
 When, after a few fleeting hours are past, 
 
 Thy will is fully perfected in me, 
 My earthly burden is removed at last, 
 
 And from the chains of sin my soul set free, — 
 The last sad tear that earth can claim is shed, 
 And " dust to dust," I rest among the dead, — 
 
 How shall I to myself, for joy, be known, 
 
 When the dark, veil is taken from mine eyes ? 
 
 When the bright angel brotherhood shall own, 
 And my glance pierces heaven's mysteries 1 
 
 And what was sacred held from mortal sight, 
 
 To the freed spirit is revealed in light. 
 
 Here, ere Thou cam'st thy hidden ways to teach, 
 My boasted wisdom was an idle dream, — 
 
 Of all the countless joys my soul shall reach, 
 My searching gaze can scarcely catch a gleam ; 
 
 Yet I, confiding in thy truth, believe, 
 
 What thou hast promised, that shall I receive. 
 
 Mercy of God ! without or mark or bound, 
 
 The heavens have not sufficient tongues to praise, 
 
 Nor words of worth enough our thanks to sound 
 For that thou lend'st thy light to guide our ways 
 
 One single ray from thee outshineth far 
 
 The sun and moon, and every glittering star. 
 
 (Revelation xiv. 13.) 
 
 HE year is but a quick succession of 
 brief moments. Who is conscious of 
 the infinitesimal part of life that is 
 comprised within each of these infini- 
 
 17 T 
 
386 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 tesimal periods of time, and which vanishes even 
 while I am thinking of it ? When a year has 
 elapsed, even this longer period, on looking back, 
 seems to us but as a moment. It was here ; it is 
 gone ; and it will never come again. 
 
 The day passes speedily by. Another and an- 
 other follows, and passes as quickly. The dura- 
 tion of a moment is but that of the twinkling of 
 an eye ; and what are weeks, months, and years 
 other than a succession of such moments, which 
 I comprise under one name ? 
 
 In all things I find constant changes going 
 on, and yet all, in fact, remain ever the same. 
 Thousands and thousands of years ago, all was 
 as it is now. The mutable is ever comprised in 
 the immutable ; the fleeting in the enduring. I 
 distinguish minutes, weeks, months. But it is 
 only the human understanding that separates 
 and makes distinctions, and applies different 
 names. In reality, all are one and the same 
 time. What I denominate the seasons are but the 
 varying positions assumed towards the sun by the 
 globe which I inhabit. Time is immutable. 
 
 And though all things seem infinitely varied, 
 nevertheless, one thing is but a consequence of 
 another ; and each is intimately connected and 
 identical with all. 
 
 All things must, by the closest concatenation, 
 be joined into one, for there is but one universe. 
 There are not two universes differing in organiza- 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 387 
 
 tion, or opposed to each other. There is but one 
 God, whose wisdom and laws originated all exist- 
 ence as a unity, as an integral, consisting of 
 many integrant parts. 
 
 Now if all things be but parts of a whole, and 
 there be but one Creator of the whole, and each 
 one thing be indestructibly linked to all others, 
 how can you speak of time and eternity as if you 
 were speaking of two distinct universes ? 
 
 How senseless would it not be to suppose that 
 the life we enjoy one day is distinct from that of 
 the next, because the days are separated by the 
 shadows of night. Who imagines because in 
 autumn plants wither and return to dust and 
 earth, that with the new spring, when vegeta- 
 tion recommences, a new world, so to say, begins I 
 There is nothing different from what has been ; 
 all is again the same as it was, eternally the 
 same. 
 
 Dost thou think that when the plant withers, 
 and its dust is dispersed by the wind, the com- 
 ponent parts of that which was a plant have been 
 blown out of the universe, and have been reduced 
 to absolute nothingness? Nay, whether united 
 in a plant, or scattered as motes in a sunbeam, 
 they are present and indestructible, irremovable 
 from the universe of God. The hidden power 
 of life, which combined this dust into verdant, 
 blooming plants, also continues apart from the 
 dust, and in winter as in summer works actively 
 
388 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 in the seeds, in the universe. When the sun of 
 spring reproduces the conditions laid down by 
 the Creator, according to which the vital force 
 acts upon the elementary substances around it, 
 this action recommences, and new plants germi- 
 nate, and put forth buds and leaves and blos- 
 soms. Thus every new thing is ever a reproduc- 
 tion of the old ; ever the same, however new it 
 may appear to the eye of man. 
 
 In the universe there is nothing new ; and 
 nothing old is annihilated. What we call new 
 and old are mere distinctions, made by our un- 
 derstanding, means to help our feeble powers of 
 conception. In reality there is in nature nothing 
 new and nothing old, for God's creation is eter- 
 nal. It is only the relations of things to one an- 
 other that change, and these changes are what 
 we call temporal. Whether a flower withers 
 and dies, and is dissolved into dust and vapor, 
 or whether some world, inhabited by millions of 
 beings, is destroyed and reduced to dust, it is the 
 same thing. Neither the component parts of the 
 flower nor of the world can escape from the uni- 
 verse of God. It is only their relations to each 
 other that have undergone a change. We make 
 a difference between the flower and the world, 
 because relatively to our bodies the one seems to 
 us very small, the other immense ; but to the 
 infinite and omnipresent God, nothing is small, 
 and nothing is great. Therefore is the most insig- 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 389 
 
 nificant worm and the most powerful of mortals 
 on tliis earth of equal importance to him. His 
 providence and his love embrace both alike, as 
 being his creatures. 
 
 We must beware not to persuade ourselves into 
 believing that that which we can see with our 
 limited sight, measure with our small standard, 
 and comprehend with our restricted faculties, 
 within our circumscribed sphere of life and space, 
 is exactly such as Ave conceive it to be. We 
 make distinctions where in nature, strictly speak- 
 ing, none exist. To us, that which is invisible, 
 and beyond the sphere of our comprehension on 
 earth, is as if it were not. There is nothing what- 
 soever extant on earth of which the elementary 
 substances were not previously in the air, in the 
 form of impalpable and invisible particles. The 
 whole globe which we mortals inhabit has been 
 formed out of components of the atmosphere. 
 From the air water is precipitated ; from the 
 air the plants receive their constituent elements ; 
 from the air and the plants the animals receive 
 theirs, and man his from all. Mountains, forests, 
 oceans, &c. are all, as it were, children of the air, 
 and may again be dissolved into air. All are one. 
 
 All are one. Therefore are all things so closely 
 linked together that the single links are often 
 indistinguishable. In the eternal universe there 
 is no yesterday and to-day, — these only exist for 
 us mortals, who inhabit the little planet called the 
 
390 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 earth, which by revolving round the sun causes 
 a fleeting alternation of light and shade, cold and 
 heat, which we call days and seasons. In the 
 eternal universe there is no beginning and no 
 ending, but only a constant play of relations, 
 and this is what we call life ; but eternal, as the 
 things themselves, as all God's works, are also 
 their varying relations to each other. Conse- 
 quently there is an uninterrupted reticulation of 
 life. The particular relations of certain parts may 
 cease, but the substances or forces themselves 
 can never cease to be ; and as little can the con- 
 stant variations of relations, i. e. life, cease to be. 
 That which seems to us as a bemnnino* and an 
 ending, as a blooming and fading, as morning and 
 evening, that which we call birth and death, old 
 and young, is only the varying play of the rela- 
 tions of things in the universe, or the life of the 
 creation. That which we call death is therefore 
 in itself a confirmation of life, an act of life, and 
 life itself! 
 
 Time and eternity are the same to God. But 
 they are likewise so to me. Why make this dis- 
 tinction ? There is but one Eternal. After death 
 I shall be in eternity, but I am already in it. 
 After death I shall be with God ; but here below 
 already I live and move and have my being in 
 God. " 
 
 However, with that intensified vital action, 
 which we call death, an active process of separa- 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 391 
 
 tion and renewed combination takes place in all 
 my component parts. As in autumn the vital force 
 leaves the withering plant, so in death the spirit- 
 ual part of my being withdraws from the earthly 
 part. That within me, which I call my real self, 
 and which is capable of conceiving God, enters 
 into combinations with other substances and things 
 in the life-teeming universe. But my discarded 
 body, which returns to dust, also continues in 
 God's universe and enters into other combinations. 
 And I, the God-conscious I, the conceiving and 
 perceiving spirit, I also, like the dust of my body, 
 shall continue through all eternity. 
 
 Am I a different being to-day to what I was 
 yesterday, because I have put on other garments ? 
 No ; for though I may yesterday have worn an 
 inferior dress, and to-day wear a better one, I am 
 nevertheless the same being. And as little as the 
 raiment which I wear forms part of myself, as 
 little does the body form part of the spirit, which 
 in death puts it off. But the same as I have been 
 while clad in the body, the same shall I be after 
 havino- entered into other combinations. For I 
 am and remain the same spirit, in like manner as 
 my body remains the same dust. 
 
 Consequently, from the brief space of time 
 which we call earthly life, T pass over into the 
 higher or lower, happier or unhappier relations 
 into which I may hereafter enter, a worthy or 
 unworthy spirit, according as I may have proved 
 
392 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 myself in this world. And thus are fulfilled the 
 words of Scripture : " Their works do follow 
 them." 
 
 " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
 from henceforth ; Yea, saith the Spirit, that they 
 may have rest from their labors ; and their works 
 do follow them." (Rev. xiv. 13.) 
 
 Our works do follow us, because between time 
 and eternity there is an intimate and indissoluble 
 connection ; more intimate indeed than that be- 
 tween the drops of the sea and the sea itself. 
 The whole system of created things is but one ; 
 and therefore living in time, I am living in eter- 
 nity ; and living in this world, I am living in the 
 universe, my Father's house, in which I shall live 
 forevermore ; for the connection between the unit 
 and the all, of which it forms an integral part, can 
 never be dissevered. 
 
 I know that this indissoluble connection between 
 time and eternity exists, because, not only is the 
 smallest mote dancing in a sunbeam imperishable, 
 but so likewise is my self-conscious spirit, which 
 aspires towards perfection. Things change, yet 
 endure. The circumstances that surround me 
 vary, but I ever remain in the midst of the infi- 
 nite vital action of the universe. Now if my soul 
 is imperishable, and ever retains its identity, how 
 can the connection between to-day and to-mor- 
 row, between the here and the hereafter, between 
 time and eternity, ever be interrupted ? I know 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 393 
 
 that the connection exists, because there is but 
 one God, who has ordained all things, who encom- 
 passes all things, who created all things perfect, 
 not as fragments and disjointed parts, but as the 
 intimately connected and closely interwoven parts 
 of a whole, infinitely harmonious in all its causes 
 and effects. And God is my God to-day, as he 
 will be my God when the circumstances of this 
 life no longer surround me, but I shall have en- 
 tered into other relations and connections. 
 
 Therefore blessed are the dead who die in the 
 Lord, for their works do follow them. They fol- 
 low them, for in the great concatenation of things 
 there are no missing links, no interruptions. One 
 thing proceeds from another ; as in the smallest, 
 so in the greatest ; as in earthly, so in moral and 
 spiritual matters. Whether thou risest or thou 
 fallest, thou takest the place thou hast prepared 
 for thyself; nothing that is done can be undone. 
 Thy works do follow thee. 
 
 There are degraded human beings, very little 
 removed from the brutes, who lack the energy to 
 develop any of their indwelling spiritual capaci- 
 ties. They aspire to nothing better than to be 
 animals, and to satisfy their animal desires. What 
 they hear said about virtue (conformity to the 
 eternal laws of God) seems to them irrational 
 and absurd, or at least they wish to think it so. 
 To be clad in costly apparel, to recline upon soft 
 couches, to live in grand houses, to feast on dainty 
 17* 
 
394 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 viands, to drink the best wines, to enjoy ample 
 pecuniary means, to have the power to oppress 
 others and to tower high above them, to possess 
 much worldly knowledge, to be able to calculate 
 cunningly, and to be irresistible in action, — in a 
 word, to be a kind of perfect animal, such is their 
 highest ambition. Of more exalted things they 
 have no conception, so utterly degraded are they. 
 If you tell them that it is their duty to sacrifice 
 all earthly things for the good of their souls, for 
 the acquisition of true nobleness of spirit, they 
 look upon you as insane. 
 
 Such men as these (in their innermost hearts 
 they are generally unhappy) are very much in- 
 clined, if they cannot deny the Creator, or refuse 
 to see him in his creation, at least to deny the 
 eternal, all-pervading laws of virtue. They 
 would fain persuade themselves that God takes 
 no heed of our actions, that piety and goodness 
 are inventions of the schools, mere prejudices 
 instilled in childhood, and intended to keep people 
 in due subjection to their rulers. That which is 
 useful they deem expedient, and that which is ex- 
 pedient they consider wise and good. Whatever 
 is for their worldly advantage they pronounce 
 right ; what injures them is, in their eyes, wrong ; 
 and they hold all means justifiable which enable 
 them to attain their end. 
 
 Nevertheless they are dismayed when they per- 
 ceive, that though there are various religions in 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 395 
 
 the world, yet virtue is the same among all nations. 
 There is consequently something stable and un- 
 varying in the human spirit, which relates to its 
 destiny, its mode of thinking and acting, and ac- 
 cording to which it judges itself, and is judged by 
 others. Virtue (which is conformity to the will 
 of God) is consequently not a shifting, accidental 
 thing. A pious and righteous man is honored in 
 all countries, by civilized and uncivilized nations, 
 and he is trusted far more than are shrewd and 
 clever men. On the other hand, a selfish villain, 
 without faith or belief, who puts no restraint upon 
 himself, is detested by all. Thus it is now, and 
 thus it was thousands of years ago. State con- 
 stitutions, church ceremonies, languages, customs, 
 science, ideas as to what is useful and what is in- 
 jurious, have altered ; but the laws of God in the 
 sphere of the spiritual, the laws and ideas relating 
 to piety and virtue, are as old as the human race 
 itself. Virtue is as indispensable to the immortal 
 spirit as food is to the mortal body. Withdraw 
 all nourishment from the body, and it perishes ; 
 withdraw virtue from the spirit, and it perishes. 
 
 If righteousness be but an accidental thing, if it 
 be not in immediate connection with the nature of 
 the spirit, why is it that even the boldest decriers 
 of virtue are frequently reluctant to commit ac- 
 tual crimes, independently of any fear of punish- 
 ment in this world ? Why is it that there are 
 things which they dare not do ? Or why is it 
 
396 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 that when they do perpetrate bad deeds, they 
 would fain, if they could, conceal them even from 
 themselves ? 
 
 Virtue is but the perfection of the spirit, its 
 mature development in regard to its destination 
 in the universe. The dying sinner is therefore 
 an immature yet rotting fruit on the great tree of 
 life. Virtue, or perfection of the spirit, is, how- 
 ever, nothing more than its self-emancipation 
 from the trammels of the earthly nature con- 
 nected with it, — its emancipation from the ani- 
 mal instincts, its self-government according to its 
 own inward and eternal law of right, and of obe- 
 dience to God ; a rising from animal nature to 
 angelic nature. Virtue is the spirit's self-eleva- 
 tion to glory. 
 
 It is not, therefore, skill in art or handicraft, nor 
 the power of cleverly calculating events and turn- 
 ing circumstances to account, nor deep learning, 
 nor extensive knowledge, that constitute true 
 greatness of soul, but piety and virtue ! That 
 which is useful to the world in which we are at 
 present living will remain here when we quit it. 
 It was derived from this world, was suited for it, 
 and will remain in it. But the virtue which sac- 
 rifices life and all earthly goods to carry out the 
 will of God, the virtue that abstains from the 
 things of this world, is not meant to remain in 
 this world, and is often in antagonism with it : it 
 is not of this earth, earthy, for it is in conflict with 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 397 
 
 all that is earthly, and conquers the power of the 
 world. Virtue, consequently, belongs exclusively 
 to the spirit; and it is the source of those holy 
 works which follow the righteous. 
 
 The virtue that denies the world does not be- 
 long to the here, but to the hereafter. It is not 
 born of this earth, but comes from God. Its 
 effects are therefore not limited to this world, but 
 extend through all eternity. All else may be re- 
 warded on earth ; but virtue in itself is above all 
 reward. And whatever is done for the sake of 
 reward, is not virtue, but an act of earthly expe- 
 diency. The righteous do not act for the sake of 
 the profit to be derived in this world ; their eyes 
 are fixed on eternity. They aspire after perfec- 
 tion, after life in God, and with God. Thus they 
 live, and thus they sleep away in the Lord, with- 
 out any thought of the pains and pleasures, the 
 praise or blame of this world. " Blessed are the 
 dead who die in the Lord, for their works do 
 follow them." 
 
 It is the hand of the Almighty and Everlasting 
 God that has linked together time and eternity ; 
 where, then, is the power that can deny or de- 
 stroy this evident and indisputable connection ? 
 
 My heart thrills with pleasure at the thought 
 which Jesus, the holy Revealer of God, has so dis- 
 tinctly expressed ! Time and eternity are one, 
 my here and my hereafter form an uninterrupted 
 whole, as surely as there is but one universe, and 
 one God, and that my works do follow me. 
 
398 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 
 
 Blessed, ah, blessed am I, for I will and shall 
 die in the Lord ! For who can separate me from 
 the love of God ? 
 
 Blessed, ah, blessed are they who die in the 
 Lord, for their works do follow them ! O my be- 
 loved ones who early departed this life, leaving 
 me behind, you are enjoying the happier lot to- 
 wards which I am still striving ; never did I feel 
 so strongly the connection between life and eter- 
 nity, as when I stood weeping by the side of your 
 pallid corpses, as when I kissed with burning lips 
 your clay-cold cheeks. Ye died in the Lord and 
 are blessed. Ye belonged to God, and therefore 
 he called you to him. Alas ! he knew and saw 
 what I did not. He witnessed how often ye had 
 struggled with yourselves in secret ; how repent- 
 ant ye were when ye had committed even the 
 smallest fault ! How trustfully ye looked up to 
 him ! How ye communed with him in earnest 
 prayer. Now ye have overcome, and your piety, 
 your innocence, your goodness, your love, do fol- 
 low you. With forgiving tenderness the merciful 
 Judge looked down upon those errors which his 
 children knew not how to avoid. Ye are not 
 the least of those whom he has taken into his 
 fatherly heart, he who allows not even the worst 
 of sinners to be lost. 
 
 Why does my soul sorrow for the dead ? O ye 
 blessed ones ! I also shall one day, and perhaps 
 very soon, throw off my earthly covering, as ye 
 
LIFE AND ETERNITY. 399 
 
 have thrown off yours, and shall, like you, be 
 clad in more glorious raiment. We shall meet 
 again, we shall be reunited. Love, like virtue, is 
 eternal ; for God is love. Similar to the connec- 
 tion between life and eternity is that which exists 
 between loving spirits. I have not entirely lost 
 you, ye dear ones, whom the Lord hath given, 
 and whom he hath taken away. Nay, he hath 
 given you to me, not taken you away ; for even 
 to this day we belong to each other. We are all 
 still dwelling in the house of our Father, though 
 in different mansions. I am living in eternity as 
 are ye, only ye have entered into new relations 
 and connections, which await me also. Life on 
 earth is but a fleeting moment, but eternity en- 
 dures, and throughout eternity we shall be with 
 each other. 
 
 Blessed, yea, blessed are they who die in the 
 Lord, for their works do follow them, and mine 
 also will follow me ! 
 
 O God of life, Judge of the dead ! O merciful 
 Saviour of sinners ! my works also will follow me, 
 the evil as the good ! I look back with dismay at 
 my past life. How often I may have erred, I do 
 not even know. Lord, Lord, wilt thou remember 
 my offences ? When thou enterest into judgment 
 with me, how shall I stand before thee ? The 
 good that was in me was but feebly sustained by 
 my will, and, alas ! it was often set at naught 
 by frivolity, thoughtlessness, or passion, while 
 
400 LIFE AND ETERNITY. 
 
 vanity frequently detracted from the merit of 
 my best deeds. How often have I been failing 
 in love, how often in perseverance, how often in 
 meekness and humility. 
 
 Save me, O Lord, from the painful discourage- 
 ment which takes possession of me when I think 
 of my shortcomings and my errors, and of all in 
 which, whether it be in secret or in public, I have 
 offended against thee and against my fellow-men ; 
 for through my own strength alone I shall never 
 attain to that which I ought to be, in accordance 
 with thy will and with the teachings of Jesus. 
 Could I not place my hope and my trust in thy 
 mercy, I should be disconsolate indeed at the 
 thought of the future, and of the change that 
 must come over me in death ! 
 
 But thou, O Merciful God, art my comfort and 
 my trust ! Accept my will for half the deed, my 
 endeavors for half success, my conflicts for half 
 the victory. Forgive me my trespasses ! Thou 
 knowest how often I try to lift myself up, though 
 I fall back each time in helpless impotence ! 
 
 But perhaps life is but one long struggle against 
 evil, and that he may find mercy before thee who 
 has had courage enough not to shrink from the 
 combat, but to carry it on to the best of his power. 
 
 And I will never weary in this struggle after 
 perfection. As thy soldier I will die, full of faith, 
 and full of hope in thy mercy, O Father, who 
 ever granteth more than we deserve. Amen. 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 What, then, is mine ? What life of bliss ? 
 
 What quickening stream my dust flows through ? 
 O'er all my limbs what glow is this 1 
 
 Is it my frame ? — I live anew 1 
 Can it be 1 ? Are these my veins ? 
 
 This Godlike glory, is it mine ? 
 I am not bound in death's cold chains 1 
 
 Who calls 1 Whose throne doth yonder shine ? 
 Ah ! it is God, — my trust, — my own, — 
 Messiah, it is thou alone ! 
 
 Lord, thy truth it faileth never, 
 For life renewed I thank thee ever. 1 
 
 In Revelation's light I soar. 
 All hail ! My foe subdued doth lie, 
 Death swallowed up in victory, 
 
 And in the dust I rest no more. 
 Hail, Lord ! All honor, might, are thine ! 
 
 Saviour ! from thee my life doth spring. 
 The angel choir I haste to join, 
 
 And loudest hallelujahs sing. 
 
 (1 Cor. xv. 36-50.) 
 
 I possess the right of citizenship in 
 two worlds ; if I belong not only to 
 the life here below, but shall hereafter, 
 and perhaps soon, belong to a higher 
 life also ; O then it cannot be wrong for me to 
 dwell at times on that which I have to look for- 
 
402 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 ward to, and which is ever drawing me towards 
 itself by a feeling of indefinite longing. It is as 
 great a satisfaction to me to occupy my thoughts 
 with the memory of the dear ones that have been 
 separated from me by death, as it is to cultivate in- 
 tercourse with those who still surround me in life, 
 and are the joy of my existence. For the former 
 also are still alive, though no longer abiding in 
 earthly form. Though the body perish, the spirit 
 lives. I still love you, ye distant ones, and can I 
 doubt that ye still love me ? Nay, spirits whom 
 God hath united, no man can put asunder, neither 
 can the grave. 
 
 It is true, that as to what will be my lot, and 
 what I myself shall be on the other side the grave, 
 I am left in ignorance ; but it cannot be wrong 
 that I should from time to time occupy my imagi- 
 nation with the subject ; that I should endeavor, 
 by comparison with what I experience here below, 
 to divine what may take place hereafter. Here 
 we live as yet by faith, not by sight. But even 
 Jesus spoke in sublime images of the supersensu- 
 ous state into which we shall enter after the death 
 of the body. His disciples also loved to dwell 
 upon the subject with their followers, or with 
 those among them who entertained doubts as to 
 the possibility of a resurrection of the dead. 
 
 The doctrine of the resurrection of the body 
 had long been accepted among the Jews. The 
 Pharisees taught it, but in a coarse and sensuous 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 403 
 
 form, maintaining that the same flesh that is con- 
 signed to the grave was again necessarily to clothe, 
 and to become the vehicle of, the spirit, — an 
 opinion which was strongly opposed by the Sad- 
 ducees, another Jewish sect. When called upon 
 to pronounce as to which of the two conflicting 
 opinions was correct, Christ showed that both 
 the Jewish sects were in error on this point ; and 
 that immortality, or life in the world beyond the 
 grave, or resurrection after death, would take 
 place without the necessity for a corporeal resur- 
 rection, in the coarsely sensual sense in which 
 they understood it ; namely, that the soul required 
 a body to be provided, as before, with all the 
 earthly instincts necessary for its preservation and 
 propagation. The Sadducees felt the truth of 
 his words, and exclaimed, u Master, thou hast 
 well said!" (Luke xx. 27-39.) 
 
 That which Jesus but rarely touched upon in 
 public, he seems to have developed more fully 
 in his confidential communings with his disciples ; 
 for we find that they entertained the same views 
 as he did as to the state of the spirit after death, 
 and as to the Jewish doctrine of the resurrection. 
 "Thou fool," says St. Paul, "that which thou 
 sowest is not quickened unless it die ; and that 
 which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body 
 that shall be, but bare grain. It is sown a natural 
 body ; it is raised a spiritual body. Flesh and 
 blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; neither 
 
404 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 doth corruption inherit incorruption." (1 Cor. 
 xv. 36-50.) The human body, composed of 
 earthly substances, will return to earth. It is not 
 capable of eternal life ; being corruptible, it can- 
 not inherit the incorruptible. It will rise from 
 the dead a spiritual body ; that is to say, when our 
 earthly members separate from our higher self, 
 this latter will rise with greater freedom above 
 that which is dead, and as if transfigured or glori- 
 fied, will be encompassed by a spiritual covering 
 or body. 
 
 This doctrine, embodied in the Holy Scriptures 
 as it was conceived in the spirit of Jesus and his 
 disciples, is in wonderful harmony with what we 
 discern here below as to the nature of man. It 
 is unmistakable that the spirit, while dwelling 
 in the earthly body, is endued with a spiritual 
 body, which is freed at the death of the former, 
 and comes forth, as it were, as the blossom does 
 from the seed. 
 
 Death is sometimes figuratively called the 
 brother of sleep. And in reality it is so. Sleep 
 is the retirement of the spirit and the soul within 
 themselves, — a withdrawal, so to say, from the 
 outward, coarser parts of the body. The same 
 takes place in death. In sleep, however, the 
 outward members of the flesh, though abandoned 
 by our higher self, continue to be animated by 
 the plant-life. Man lies there insensible, but the 
 blood still flows through the veins ; the lungs still 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 405 
 
 breathe ; all that is essential for the continuance 
 of his plant-like life is in full activity, in the same 
 manner as in the insensible flower or tree. This 
 retirement of the spiritual part of man at regular 
 intervals seems to be necessary for the preserva- 
 tion of the earthly part, as this would otherwise 
 by constant use be, as it were, worn out and ren- 
 dered less efficient as an instrument of the spirit. 
 If the plant-like life of the human body be left to 
 go on unchecked by the activity of the spirit, it 
 works more uninterruptedly, according to its own 
 laws, and thus acquires new strength. Therefore 
 it is that after every healthy sleep, we find that 
 the body is refreshed and the mind cheered. In 
 death, however, even the plant-life abandons the 
 substances of which the body is composed, and 
 which are held together by this force alone, and 
 in consequence they decay. 
 
 Spirit and soul may, on the other hand, have 
 abandoned the body, without the latter being ap- 
 parently dead, though real death may be truly 
 said to have taken place when the better part of 
 man has left it. But the body breathes, its pulses 
 beat ; and it is said of the man : he is still alive. 
 At other times it may happen that the vital power 
 withdraws from certain parts of the body, and 
 that these die, as it were, while the spirit and the 
 soul still remain united with the other parts. 
 
 Sleep is one of the greatest mysteries connected 
 with human life, and well worthy of our closest 
 
406 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 and most intelligent observation. Bnt this obser- 
 vation is rendered doubly difficult by the fact, 
 that the observing spirit is, in regard to , the mat- 
 ters to be taken cognizance of, subject to the laws 
 of corporeal nature, and must allow these to act 
 without disturbance, in order that they may be 
 restored and strengthened for its use. Sleep may 
 be said to be the nourishment of the vital force. 
 The spirit contributes nothing to this. The vital 
 force is as independent of it as is the digestive 
 process which converts the food of the body into 
 blood, or as is the growth of the hair, or the vari- 
 ous secretions that take place in the body. When 
 we are awake, the vital force is consumed, it flows 
 out and acts outwardly ; when we are asleep, it is 
 gathered in from without. Therefore, as you will 
 observe, not only men and animals sleep, but also 
 plants, — they close their calyxes, or fold and 
 hang their leaves, when night sets in. 
 
 But what is the state of our higher self during 
 its retirement from the outward senses ? It can no 
 longer receive impressions from without through 
 eye or ear, through taste, or smell, or sensation. 
 But shall we therefore say that the spirit is anni- 
 hilated during those moments ? Were this so, 
 then our bodies would each morning belong to 
 another spirit, another soul. But the spirit is 
 perfectly conscious that it is ever the same, that 
 it is no other to-day than it was yesterday. 
 Though concentrated within itself, and with- 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 407 
 
 drawn from the world of sense, and in conse- 
 quence deprived for the time of the mediums 
 through which it communicates with the outer 
 world, the spirit lives and is active. 
 
 Dreams are a proof of the continued activity 
 of the spirit during sleep. At whatever hour we 
 may be awakened out of sleep, we are conscious 
 of having dreamt, or when this is not the case, it 
 is because the remembrance of the dream is oblit- 
 erated by the strong impressions which are pro- 
 duced on the sudden reawakening of the senses. 
 And though on such occasions we mav have no 
 distinct recollection of our dreams, we have, 
 nevertheless, a clear impression that on being 
 awakened we have to turn our attention forcibly 
 away from what was inwardly occupying it, to 
 the outward objects which then lay claim to it. 
 
 In our dreams we are conscious of perceptions, 
 desires, and feelings ; but the outward senses be- 
 ing, as it were, closed, the spiritual activity goes 
 on independently of outward objects. It rarely 
 leaves a strong and lasting impression on the 
 memory ; nevertheless, it has taken place. Spirit 
 and soul are consequently active, even though we 
 may not afterwards be able to remember the na- 
 ture of their activity. Indeed, who can remem- 
 ber all the countless but fleeting ideas, that rise 
 in the mind every moment of the day? But 
 would we, therefore, maintain that our spirit, at 
 the very time when it was perhaps most active 
 and reflective, had no ideas ? 
 
408 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 In dreams, the self-consciousness of the spirit, 
 that is to say, its knowledge of its own existence, 
 is exactly the same as in waking life. In dream- 
 ing, as when awake, it distinguishes itself from the 
 objects of its perception. Without this self-con- 
 sciousness, without this insulation, so to say, of 
 the ego from the images of its own conceptions, it 
 could not dream. Whenever we are able to re- 
 call to mind a past dream, we shall find that it 
 was our ego which, with full consciousness of itself, 
 lived and moved among the creations of its imagi- 
 nation. We may forget the various details of a 
 dream, and even the entire dream, during which 
 the impressions produced by the spirit on the 
 sleeping body, through desires and feelings, were 
 not very strong ; consequently we may also forget 
 that the spirit was conscious of itself during the 
 interval ; but it does not follow from this that our 
 self-consciousness, the spirit's knowledge of its 
 own identity and existence, has for a moment 
 ceased ! There are persons who, even when 
 merged in deep thought during their waking 
 hours, become perfectly unconscious of what is 
 going on around them. The mind, withdrawn 
 from the outward parts of the body and the senses, 
 is concentrated in itself, and occupied with itself 
 alone ; to all appearance these persons, at such 
 moments, seem to be dreaming or sleeping with 
 open eyes. But who will deny that, during these 
 periods of deep thought, they are fully conscious 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 409 
 
 of themselves, though they hear not with their 
 ears and see not with their eyes ? The very fact 
 that we are able, when we are determined so to 
 do, to awaken ourselves from sleep at a fixed 
 hour, is another proof in favor of the continuance 
 of our self-consciousness, and of the consciousness 
 of our existence. 
 
 We cannot therefore say of a person, whether 
 in light slumber or in deep sleep, that he has lost 
 consciousness, for he retains the knowledge of his 
 own existence, though he does not make it known 
 to us. The spirit never loses the consciousness 
 of its own being, and the soul never loses the 
 consciousness of its identity, although when they 
 return to the sphere of the outward senses, they 
 may have lost the remembrance of having retained 
 this in their sleeping state. The same takes place 
 during a swoon, when in consequence of the par- 
 tial and temporary disturbance of the plant-life, 
 the spiritual part of man withdraws into itself; 
 for the spirit shuns what is dead, and is only 
 bound to substances which are in themselves life- 
 less by the bond of the vital force. Although a 
 person in a swoon gives no sign of self-conscious- 
 ness, he is, nevertheless, as little without it as 
 when asleep. Indeed, many persons on reeovcr- 
 ino- from a swoon remember idens which have 
 occupied them during the period of apparent life- 
 lessness, just as many, on awaking from sleep, 
 remember their dreams, while others do not. 
 
 18 
 
410 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 Nay, there are physical conditions, such, for in- 
 stance, as those of catalepsy, during which the 
 body presents a pale, cold, breathless, motionless, 
 rigid appearance, like that of a corpse ; while the 
 spirit, nevertheless, remains in connection with 
 some of the senses, and is perfectly cognizant of 
 all that goes on around it, but is unable to give 
 the slightest outward sign of life or consciousness. 
 There is another remarkable condition incident 
 to human nature, which convinces us of the unin- 
 terrupted activity of the spirit, and of its never- 
 ceasing consciousness, even during periods of 
 which it subsequently loses the remembrance. I 
 allude to the condition of the sleep-walker. He 
 falls, to all appearances, into the ordinary state of 
 sleep. His outward senses are closed. He hears 
 not, sees not, feels not. Suddenly he seems to 
 awake, not out of sleep, but in it. He hears, but 
 not with his ears ; he sees, but not with his eyes ; 
 he feels, but not through the skin. He walks, 
 he speaks, he performs various acts, and, to the 
 utter astonishment of the spectators, often with 
 greater skill and precision than he would be 
 capable of when awake. In this state he has a 
 vivid recollection of the events which have taken 
 place during his waking life, and not unfrequently, 
 indeed, of occurrences which entirely escape his 
 memory when his senses are fully awake. After 
 having remained in this state for some time, he 
 again sinks into ordinary sleep, and when at length 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 411 
 
 lie rouses himself from this, he is perfectly uncon- 
 scious of everything that has taken place. He 
 has forgotten what he said and what he did, and 
 often finds it impossible to believe what those who 
 have seen his sleep-walking tell him. But can 
 we deny that his spirit has been .self-conscious, 
 and wonderfully active, during that sleep ? When 
 the somnambulist falls again into that state of out- 
 ward sleeping and inward waking, he remembers 
 while in this condition, which even to himself is 
 incomprehensible, all that he did, and thought, 
 when previously in it, and of which, when his 
 outward senses are awake, he knows nothing. 
 
 How is this to be explained ? How is it that 
 when asleep, when the outward senses are, so to 
 say, closed, we nevertheless, in such cases as the 
 one just alluded to, can hear and see not only as 
 well, but better than when awake ? It is because 
 the body is nothing more than the outward shell 
 or covering of the spirit ; because in itself the 
 body, independently of the soul, possesses neither 
 the power of sensation nor perception, the eye of 
 the soulless body being as sightless as that of a 
 marble statue. It is consequently the soul, and 
 the soul alone, that feels, sees, and hears what is 
 going on outwardly. The eye, the ear, &c. are 
 only special arrangements in the fleshly covering, 
 skilfully adapted for conveying impressions from 
 the outer world to the soul. There are, however, 
 instances, as we have seen, in which the gross 
 
412 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 bodily covering being diseased, and having become 
 injured in some way, the soul, as it were, comes 
 forth from it, and continues its activity without 
 the aid of the outward senses. In these cases it 
 also acts upon an entirely dhTerent set of nerves 
 than when the body is in its ordinary waking 
 state ; and through the increased vegetative force 
 in these, it carries on its action against that which 
 is in itself lifeless in man. 
 
 The soul is consequently the sensitive organ, 
 not the body, and is therefore the true and real 
 body of the spirit, and the body is only its out- 
 ward framework, its shell and covering. Now, 
 as we know from numerous instances and experi- 
 ences that the activity and self-consciousness of 
 the spirit never cease, not even during the 
 moments in respect to which it may not be able 
 to remember having been self-conscious ; as we 
 know, that when engaged in deep meditation the 
 spirit may become unconscious of its own body 
 and of all outward circumstances, or in certain 
 diseases may be capable of acting on the members 
 of the body, or, as in cases of somnambulism, is 
 even capable of entirely dispensing with the aid 
 of the bodily senses : there is no difficulty in con- 
 ceiving how the immortal spirit, even after having 
 entirely thrown off its gross and perishable body, 
 can retain its self-consciousness and the feeling of 
 its identity, though it can no longer manifest itself 
 through the medium of the body to those who 
 
GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 413 
 
 are still living in the flesh ! We are thus able 
 to conceive what is the spiritual body of which 
 St. Paul speaks ; what is the incorruption which 
 is to rise out of corruption ; what is the weakness 
 that falls off, or is sown in the grave, and is raised 
 in power, and soars towards heaven, being mature 
 for the better life. (1 Cor. xv. 43.) This, then, 
 is the glorification after death ; this is the spiritual 
 resurrection. That which is born of the earth 
 must return to the earth ; but the spirit, invested 
 with the glorified body, bears the image of the 
 heavenly, as it has borne the image of the earthly. 
 (1 Cor. xv. 49.) The fleshly body, given over 
 to corruption in the grave, feels no more ; but in 
 reality it has never felt through itself alone. It 
 was the spiritual body, that is, the soul, which in 
 truth felt and perceived; and it will continue to 
 do so even though dissevered from its earthly 
 shell. Its power of feeling and perception will 
 indeed be enhanced; and the spirit, continuing 
 its self-conscious life in the spiritual body, will 
 still see the glory of God in his creation, and will 
 recognize and love the beings it loved before. 
 But it will no longer have sensual or earthly 
 wants and desires, and it will know no tears ; 
 it will bear the image of the heavenly from 
 whence it descends. 
 
 What shall I feel, when thou callest me, O my 
 Creator, my God ! When the time of my glori- 
 fication shall arrive ; when my living friends are 
 
414 GLORIFICATION AFTER DEATH. 
 
 weeping around me ; when my glorified dear ones 
 are drawing nigh ; and my heart blesses all with 
 equal love ! When I shall appear before thee, sanc- 
 tified through Jesus Christ, and having become a 
 partaker of his kingdom, I will seek him and will 
 fall down before thee, O Lord, and pray 
 to thee with increased thankfulness, 
 with deeper reverence and awe, 
 that my immortal spirit may 
 ever ripen to great- 
 er perfection in 
 every virtue ! 
 Amen. 
 
 Cambridge : Stereotyped and Trinted by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 
 
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