power, which shall be exerted in raising our dead bodies at the last day? Thus hath the Saviour proved himself the Son of God, by a kind of testimony the most clear and convincing in itself, and which was admirably suited to the dignity of his own character, and the importance of the errand on which he came. Thus hath he challenged our firmest faith in his doctrine and grace. And thus hath he kindled in our breasts the most cheerful hope of all the great blessings promised us in another world. But to return

Lazarus lives. And who can describe the surprise, the joy, the gratitude, which his sisters and friends feel on this strange occasion? Him they receive again into their embraces, of whom they had the other day taken their final farewell. Him they again converse with, whom they just now thought they should no more behold till the day of the resurrection. How do they congratulate each other on this happy event! and strive which shall offer the highest praises to the Saviour, the God manifest in the flesh !-Such then was the salvation they received.

But such miraculous appearances we are not now to expect. Our departed friends are not thus to be restored to us again. It were presumptuous to wish it. Nor have we any occasion for such attestations as these to the truth. Yet the same Jesus still lives; still exercises a tender compassion for the mourning relatives of his dear disciples; and still assures them that they who sleep in Jesus, God will another day bring with him a.

But it is time we now look back to that part of the story, with which the text stands immediately connected. Our Saviour, you remember, upon receiving the message from Martha and Mary, that their brother Lazarus was sick, resolved to tarry where he was for a few days. At the close of which time signifying his intention to go again into Judea, his disciples vehemently dissuaded him from it, through fear of the Jews. But he tells them (such was his exact knowledge of events which happened at a distance as well as near) that their friend Lazarus slept, and he must needs go to awake him out of his sleep. Lord, say they, if he sleep he shall do well. No

a 1 Thess. iv. 14.

but, replies he in plain terms, he is dead: and I am glad for your sakes, that I was not there, to the intent that ye may believe; nevertheless let us go to him. Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus (that is, in the Hebrew Thomas, and Didymus in the Greek) to his fellow-disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him a.

Curiosity would here naturally lead us to inquire particularly into the character of Thomas. But we can collect very little concerning him from the sacred writings. He was a good man, a sincere and faithful disciple of Christ, and one of the twelve apostles. The most remarkable circumstance related of him is his incredulity on occasion of our Saviour's resurrection from the dead: and which is the more astonishing, as it is probable he was an immediate witness of this miracle, of which we have been speaking. It should seem also from the language of the text, uttered it is likely with great vehemence and affection, that he was a man of strong passions, and of very tender feelings.

Some are of opinion that he had Christ in view, and meant going and dying with him. For the disciples had just before been dissuading him from going up to Jerusalem, for fear of the Jews. And if this were the sense of the words, they might be considered as the language either of peevishness and discontent

"If he will go and die, we may e'en as well go and die with him" or rather, of tenderness and love-" How can we bear the thought of parting with our Master? What comfort shall we have of our lives when he is gone? No. We will follow thee, Lord, even unto death. Where thou goest, we will go; where thou lodgest, we will lodge; where thou diest, we will die, and there will we be buried: nought but death shall part thee and us b."

But though I make no doubt this was the temper of the disciples towards Christ, yet I think it is most natural to conclude from the connection of the words, that Thomas had his friend Lazarus in view. "Lazarus is dead," says Christ, "nevertheless let us go to him." "Yes," says Thomas, 66 we will go and die with him." How moving the expression! And when ¿ Ruth i. 16, 17.

a John xi. 11-16.

taken in its utmost latitude, how full of the most useful and important instruction!

Considering the text in this light, it will be my business to collect as nearly as possible the sense of the words, and the temper in which we may reasonably suppose they were spoke; and to improve them as we go along to our own use.

Now the words will admit of either a good, or a bad interpretation, that is, they may be considered as spoke in a pecvish hasty manner, and under the influence of immoderate passion; or else in a serious, spiritual, heavenly temper of mind, and as became a good man and a Christian. The latter I should charitably suppose was the case. And yet I think it is very imaginable, that with all this affection which Thomas expresses for his friend Lazarus, and with all his eager desire of a better world, there was a mixture of imperfection, weakness and sin. The operations of the human mind are very quick, subtle, and complex. So that the justest sentiments may be clouded with a degree of error, and the purest affections be adulterated with a tincture of irregular passion. How far therefore this language of his was commendable, and how far it was deserving of censure, I shall endeavour to shew, while I am laying before you the several sentiments, which the words seem naturally to suggest.

I. They may be considered as a lively and passionate expression of his friendship for Lazarus, and of the grief he felt for his death. "Lazarus is dead. The loss is exceeding great. How shall we bear up under this severe stroke of providence? Let us go and die with him."

Now the sorrow he endured on this occasion, so far as it was held under the restraints of reason and religion, was natural, innocent, and I may add, commendable. Lazarus was a good man, beloved of Christ, endowed with many amiable qualities, and it should seem from some hints concerning him, a person of considerable influence and usefulness. Our Saviour and his disciples had often been entertained at his house, they had enjoyed great pleasure in his conversation, and had maintained an intimate and cordial friendship with him. He had been a useful member of society, had done much good in his neighbourhood, and bore an extraordinary character among his ac

quaintance. Was it therefore to be wondered, that such a man as Thomas, in whose breast the tender feelings of huma→ nity were united with the generous sentiments of friendship, should be deeply affected with the sad news of the death of one he so dearly loved? To have suppressed all grief would have been to counteract the principles both of reason and religion. And could that be right? Nature must, nature will have its course- "Ah! we shall see his face no more-no more enjoy his society-no more profit by his discourse-no more be blessed with his prayers, his counsels, his reproofs. His sisters will be overwhelmed with sorrow. His friends, his neighbours, and all that knew him will join in the lamentation." Such reflections could scarce be made without a deep sigh; and if they would not justify, they might however excuse the wish that followed, "Let me go and die with him. I am distressed for thee, my brother Lazarus, very pleasant hast thou been unto me. We were one in life. O that we had not been divided in death a!"

There are no principles so favourable to true friendship, and which tend so much to refine and improve it, as those of virtue and religion. Friendships thus formed are the most beneficial, endearing, and durable. And as the loss of friends may very well be numbered among the most painful afflictions of the present life; so it would be strange, if religion, which hath an aspect thus favourable to friendship, did at all discountenance sorrow on these occasions. An affected insensibility to any kind of trouble is far from being commendable. It is unworthy of a man, much more of a Christian. There is a degree of impiety, I was going to say, of atheism in it. For if there be no evil in the city, but God hath done it b; to seem not to feel it, is to deny that he hath any concern in it, or however to treat his influence in such dispensations, with an indifference which is very indecent and unbecoming. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord c. As therefore sorrow for the death of our departed friends is in itself natural and reasonable, and is a tribute we owe to their memory; so it is an expression of regard due to the providence of God, who

u 2 Sam. i. 23, 26,

b Amos iii. 6,

c Heb, xii. 5.

sees fit thus to chasten and afflict us. Christ himself wept, and he allows his people to weep, and to express their grief to each other, on such mournful occasions as these.

On the contrary, there is such a thing as excess of sorrow. This frequently happens. And it is not improbable but it might be the case here. The 'good man's passions might be wrought up too high. And if so, his wishing to die with Lazarus was worthy of censure, as it argued an immoderate affection to this friend, to the exclusion of a due regard to others; and as it betrayed impatience, and the want of a becoming submission to the will of God. Though Lazarus was removed, he had other friends left. And though he had been bereaved of them all, could he forget that God still lived; and that therefore it became him to acquiesce in his pleasure, and to restrain his passions from having so far the mastery over him, as totally to unfit him for the enjoyments and duties of life? Nay, one would have thought, the consideration that Christ was still here on earth, should have contributed not a little to produce this effect. So far therefore, as his grief was immoderate, it was sinful. And hence we should learn, be our affliction what it may, to take heed that we do not throw the reins upon the neck of our impetuous passions, and abandon ourselves to sorrow: lest we thereby offend God, and essentially injure ourselves.

II. The language of the text may be expressive of a happy indifference to the present world, and a cheerful readiness to leave it-A high and noble attainment this!

Every good man must needs be sensible of the vanity of the world. It is a lesson which observation as well as religion teaches. How trifling, how uncertain, how unsatisfying are all the enjoyments of time and sense! Look around you and say, you who possess a well-grounded hope of a future happy immortality, what is there here that is worth living for, excepting the comforts of religion, the satisfactions of friendship, and the prospect of being useful? Is the transient pleasure that arises from the gratification of the senses, from the possession of increasing wealth, or from the vain applause of men, an adequate compensation for all that anxiety, labour, satiety,