:

words which constitute the third difficulty | his miraculous gift, fall into so great a miswe would wish to remove. This we say take in speaking on this subject? How do unto you, by the word of the Lord, that we they reconcile this presumption with what which are alive and remain unto the coming he says of the resurrection in his epistles, of the Lord, shall not prevent them which written prior to this, from which we have are asleep. For the Lord himself shall de- taken our text? Not to multiply arguments; scend from heaven with a shout, with the there are some texts in which St. Paul seems voice of the archangel, and with the trump to class himself with those who shall rise, of God and the dead in Christ shall rise seeing he says, 'we. Let us next attend to first: then we which are alive and remain. that in the second Epistle to the Corinthians: shall be caught up together with them in the God, who raised up the Lord Jesus, shall clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; and so raise up us also,' chap. iv 14. But in my shall we ever be with the Lord.' Concern- text he seems to associate himself in the class ing these words various questions arise, which of those who shall not be raised, being alive require illustration. when Christ shall descend from heaven; we that are alive, and remain at the coming of the Lord.' Emphasis then, should not be laid on the pronoun we, it signifies, in general, those who; and it ought to be explained, not by its general import, but by the nature of the things to which it is applied, which do not suffer us to believe, that the apostle here meant to designate himself, as I think is proved.

1. What did St. Paul mean when he affirm ed, that what he said was by the word of the Lord? You will understand it by comparing the expression with those of the first Epistle to the Corinthians, chap xv 51, where discussing the same subject, he speaks thus; 'Behold I show you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall be changed. These words, Behold I show you a mystery,' and those of my text, are of the same import. Properly to understand them, let it be observed, that besides the gift of inspiration. by which the sacred authors knew and taught, the things essential to salvation, there was one peculiar to some privileged Christians; it was a power to penetrate certain secrets, without which they might be saved, but which, nevertheless, was a glorious endow ment wherever conferred. Probably St. Paul spake of this privilege, when enumerating the gifts communicated to the primitive church, in the xiith chapter of the above epistle. To one,' he says, 'is given by the same Spirit, the word of knowledge.' This word of knowledge, he distinguishes from another, called just before, The word of wisdom. The like distinctions occur chap. xiiith and xivth, in the same epistle. Learn ed men, who think that by the word of wisdom we must understand inspiration, think also, that by the word of knowledge,' we must understand an acquaintance with the mysteries of which I have spoken. Many my steries are mentioned in the sacred writings The mystery of the restoration of the Jews; the mystery of iniquity; and the mystery of the beast. The passages to which I allude are known to you, and time does not allow me to enlarge, nor even a full recital.

3 In what respects does St. Paul prove, that those who die before the advent of the Son of God, shall not thereby retard their happiness; and that those who shall then survive, shall not enjoy earlier than they the happiness with which the Saviour shall invest them?

The apostle proves it from the supremacy of Christ at the consummation of the age. The instant he shall descend from heaven, he shall awake the dead by his mighty voice. The bodies of the saints shall rise, and the bodies of those that are alive shall be purified from their natural encumbrance, according to the assertion of St. Paul, already adduced; we shall not all sleep, but we shall be chang ed.' And it must also be remarked, that this change, he adds, shall be made in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye; that is, immedi ately on the coming of Jesus Christ: and af ter this change, the saints who shall rise, and those who shall be yet alive, shall be caught up together to meet the Lord in the air, and shall be for ever with the Lord. The survi vors, therefore, shall have no prerogative over others; so is the sense of the text: We which are alive and remain at the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord shall descend from heaven with a shout,' like that of sailors to 2. Why does St. Paul, when speaking of excite to unity of labour, as is implied by the those who shall be found on earth when Greek term, with the voice of the archanChrist shall descend from heaven, add, Wegel, and the trumpet of God; I would say, which are alive, and remain at the coming with the most vehement shout; for in the of the Lord? Did he flatter himself to be of sacred style, a thing angelic, angelical, or that number? Some critics have thought so: divine, is a thing which excels in its kind: and when pressed by those words in the se- 'The Lord shall descend, and the dead in cond Epistle to Timothy, The time of my Christ shall rise first. Then we who are departure is at hand; I am ready to be offer- alive and remain, shall be caught up together ed up; they have replied, that St Paul had with them in the clouds.' changed his ideas, and divested himself of the illusive hope that he should never die!

But how many arguments might I not adduce to refute this error, if it required refu tation, and did not refute itself? How should St. Paul, who had not only the gift of inspiration, but who declared that what he said was by the word of the Lord, or according to ❘

But this is a very extraordinary kind of consolation: St. Paul still left the Thessalo nians in their old mistake, that some of them should still live to see the last day; why did he not undeceive them? Why did he not say to console them in their trouble, that the consummation of the ages was, as yet, a very distant period; and that the living and the

will take me up Though thou slay me, yet will I trust in thee.' Isa. xlix. 14; liv. 10; Ps. xxvii. 10; Job. xiii. 15.

II. We have reprobated the affliction of which despondency is the principle. A man

mon prudence should supply its place; it should induce us to place but a submissive attachment on objects of transient good. It should say, 'Let those that have wives be as though they have none; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that re-judges of the happiness of others, by the nojoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that use this world, as though they used it not, for the fashion of this world passeth away-Put not your trust in princes, nor in great men, in whom there is no help: his soul goeth forth, he returneth to the earth, and in that very day his purposes perish.' 1 Cor. vii. 29; Ps cxlvi. 3, 4.

Hence, when driven to despair by the oc currence of awful events, we have cause to form a humiliating opinion of our faith. These strokes of God's hand are the tests whereby he tries our faith in the crucible of tribulation, according to the apostle's idea, 1 Pet. i. 7. When in affluence and prosperity, it is difficult to determine whether it be love for the gift, or the giver, which excites our devotion. It is in the midst of tribulation that we can recognise a genuine zeal, and a conscious piety. When our faith abandons us in the trying hour, it is an evident proof that we had taken a chimera, for a reality, and the shadow for the substance. Submission and hope are the characteristics of a Christian.

The example of the father of the faithful here occurs to our view. If ever a mortal had cause to fix his hopes on any object, it was undoubtedly this patriarch. Isaac was the son of the promise; Isaac was a miracle of grace; Isaac was a striking figure of the bless ed Seed, in whom all the nations of the earth were to be blessed. God commanded him to sacrifice this son; who then had ever stronger reasons to believe that his hopes were lost? But what did Abraham do? He submitted, he hoped. He submitted; he left his house; he took his son; he prepared the altar, he bound the innocent victim; he raised his arm; he was ready to dip his paternal hands in blood, and to plunge the knife into the bosom of this dear son. But in submitting, he hoped, he believed. How did he hope? He hoped against hope. How did he believe? He believed what was incredible, rather than persuade himself that his fidelity would be fatal, and that God would be deficient in his promise; he believed that God would restore his son by a miracle, having given him by a miracle; and that this son, the unparalleled fruit of a dead body, should be raised in a manner unheard of. Believers, here is your father. If you are the children of Abraham, do the works of Abraham. I say again, that submission and hope are the marks of a Christian. In the mountains of the Lord he will there provide. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; yet my kindness shall not depart from thee; neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed. But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me; and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a won an forget her, sucking-child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her work? Yea, they may forget, yet will not I forsake thee. When my father and mother forsake me, the Lord

tion of his own happiness; and estimating life as the supreme good, he regards the person deprived of it, as worthy of the tenderest compassion. Death presents itself to us under the image of a total privation. The deceased seems to us to be stripped of every comfort. Had he, by some awful catastrophe, lost his fortune; had he lost his sight, or one of his limbs, we should have sympathized in his affliction; with how much more propriety ought we to weep, when he has been deprived of all those comforts at a stroke, and fatally sentenced to live no more? This sorrow is appropriate to those who are destitute of hope. This is indisputable, when it has for its object those who have finished a Christian course; and it is on these occasions more than any other, we are obliged to confess that most Christians draw improper consequences, and act in a manner wholly opposed to the faith they profess. We believe the soul to be immortal; we are confident at the moment of a happy death that the soul takes its flight to heaven; and that the angels who are encamped around it for protection and defence, carry it to the bosom of God. We have seen the living languish and sigh, and reach forth to the moment of their deliverance; and when they attain to this moment, we class them among the unhappy! Was I not right in saying, that there are no occasions on which Christians reason worse than on these, and act more directly opposite to the faith they profess? While the deceased were with us in this valley of tears, they were subject to many complaints. While running a race so arduous, they complained of being liable to stumble. They complained of the calamities of the church in which they were entangled They complained when meditating on revelation that they found impenetrable mysteries; and when aspiring at perfection, they saw it placed in so exalted a view, as to be but imperfectly at tained. But now they are afflicted no more; now they see God face to face; now they are come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, to the heavenly Jerusalem, to the myriads of angels, to the assembly of the first-born. Now, as the Holy Spirit has said, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.' Heb. xii. 22; Ps. xvi. 11; Rev. xiv. 13.

These remarks concern those only who die the death of the righteous: but should not piety indulge her tears, when we see these die impenitent to whom we are joined by the ties of nature; and shall we call that a criminal sorrow when it is the death of reprobates which excite our grief? Is there any kind of comfort against this painful thought, that my son is dead in an unregenerate state? And can any sorrow be immoderate which is excited by the loss of a soul? This is the ques tion we were wishful to il'ustrate, when we marked, in the third place, as a criminal

sorrow, that which proceeds from a mistaken ( should return to its centre, and associate itpiety.

III. We answer first, that nothing is more presumptive than to decide on the eternal loss of men; and that we must not limit the extent of the divine mercy, and the ways of Providence. A contrite heart may, perhaps, be concealed under the exterior of reprobation; and the religion which enjoins us to live in holy fear of our own salvation, ever requires that we should presume charitably concerning the salvation of others.

But people are urgent, and being unable to find any mitigation in a doubtful case, against which a thousand circumstances seem to militate, they ask whether one ought to moderate the anguish excited by the eternal loss of one they love? The question is but too necessary in this unhappy age, where we see so great a number of our brethren die in apostacy, and in which the lives of those who surround us afford so just a ground of awful apprehensions concerning their salvation.

self with the love of our Creator. Henceforth know we no man after the flesh. I hate them with a perfect hatred. If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema. If any man love father, mother, son, or daughter, more than me, he is not wor thy of me,' 2 Cor. v. 16; Ps. cxxxix. 22; Matt. x. 37.

This duty is, perhaps, too exalted for the earth. The sentiments of nature are, per haps, too much entwined with those of religion to be so perfectly distinguished. It is certain, however, that they shall exist in heaven. If you should suppose the contrary, the happiness of heaven would be imbittered with a thousand pains: you can never conceive how a father can be satisfied with a felicity in which his son has no share; nor how a friend can be composed while his associate is loaded with chains of darkness.' Whereas, if you establish the principle that perfect charity must be an emanation of divine love, you will develop the inquiry; and you will also conclude, that excessive sorrow, excited by a criminal death, is a criminal sorrow, and that if piety be its principle, it is a mls

I confess it would be unreasonable to cen sure tears in a situation so afflictive; I confess that one has need of an extraordinary confidence to repress excess, and that an or-guided piety. dinary piety is inadequate to the task. I contend, however, that religion forbids, even in this case, to sorrow above measure. Two remarks shall make it manifest; and we entreat those whom God has struck in this sensible manner, to impress them deeply on their mind.

But if there be one kind of sorrow incom. patible with the hope of a Christian, there is another which is altogether congenial to it, and inseparable in its ties, and such is the sorrow which proceeds from one of the following principles-from sympathy;-from the dictates of nature;-and from repentance. To be explicit :

1. Our grief really proceeds from a carnal principle, and our heart disguises itself from I. We have said first, from sympathy. its own judgment, when apparently sug-Though wo have censured the sorrow excit gests that religion is the cause. If it were simply the idea of the loss of the soul; if it were a principle of love to God, and if it were not the relations of father and son; in a word, if the motives were altogether spiritual, and the charity wholly pure, which excites our grief, whence is it that this one object should excite it, while so great a multitude of unhappy men are precisely in a similar case? Whence is it that we see daily, without anxiety, whole nations running headlong to perdition? Is it less dishonourable to God, that those multitudes are excluded from his covenant, than because it is precisely your friend, your son, or your father?

Our second remark is, that the love we have for the creature should always conform itself with the Creator. We ought to love our neighbours, because like us they bear the image of God, and they are called with us to the same glory. On this principle, when we see a sinner wantonly rush on the precipice, and risking salvation by his crimes, our charity ought to be alarmed. Thus Jesus Christ, placing himself in the period in which grace was still offered to Jerusalem, and in which she might accept it, groaned beneath her hardness, and deplored the abuse she made of his entreaties; O that thou hadst known, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace,' Luke xix. 42. But when a man becomes the avowed enemy of God, when a protracted course of vice, and a final perseverance in crimes, convinces that he has no part in his covenant, then our love

ed by the loss of our dearest friends, we did
not wish to impose a rigorous apathy. The
sorrow we have censured is that excessive
grief, in which despondency prevailing over,
religion induces us to deplore the dead, as
though there was no hope after this life, and
no life after death. But the submissive sor-
row by which we feel our loss, without shut-
ting our eyes against the resources afforded
by Providence; the sorrow which weeps at
the sufferings of our friends in the road to
glory, but confident of their having attained
it; this sorrow, so far from being culpable,
is an inseparable sentiment of nature, and an
indispensable duty of religion.

Yes, it is allowed on seeing this body, this corpse, the precious remains of a part of ourselves, carried away by a funeral procession, it is allowed to recall the tender but painful recollections of the intimacy we had with him whom death has snatched away. It is allowed to recall the counsel he gave us in our embarrassments; the care he took of our education; the solicitude he took for our welfare; the unaffected marks of love which appeared during the whole of his life. and which were redoubled at the period af his death. It is allowed to recall the endearments that so precious an intimacy shed an life, the conversations in his last sickness, those tender adieus, those assurances of esteem, that frankness of his soul, those fervent prayers, those torrents of tears, and those last efforts of an expiring tenderness. It is allowed in weeping to show the robes that

But why should the thought of dying excite sorrow in a saint, in regard of whom the divine justice is disarmed, and to whom nothing is presented beyond the tomb but in viting objects? The solution of this difficulty associates with what we said in the third place, that the death of persons worthy of our esteem, should excite in our hearts the sentiments of repentance.

III. It is a question often agitated among Christians, that seeing Jesus Christ has sa