"And death is terrible-the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, The closed and sunken eye that once beamed with intelligence, or flashed with delight; the pallid lips, once uttering sentiments of wisdom, and the pulseless heart-strange contrast with life-all awaken thoughts of sadness. When absorbed in this survey of a friend's unburied remains, let the doctrine of utter annihilation take possession of the mind. The spirit which once gave life and beauty to that form of clay returned to primitive nothing-now nonexistent! All that is left of the once loved friend are the lifeless remains in the coffin! A union severed never more to be enjoyed! Ties broken forever! Death- the end of all hope an eternal parting! If the pangs of sorrow can be increased, if a drop can be added to the cup of human bitterness, this doctrine is suited to such an end. Eternal silence to reign over the future! A dark cloud dropping down its folds of blackness upon the tomb! An indescribable chaos swallowing up life eternally! Boding night-endless without a morning! Oh, what alleviation of sorrow to hear a voice breaking the deep silence of such a scene, "I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE!" How sweet to hail Immanuel as he comes to destroy death to grapple with the mighty conqueror and break his tyranny in pieces." If over the desolation of winter with its blasted buds, cheerless skies, and howling winds, no returning spring were to shed its genial influence, and clothe the earth with new forms of life, sadness would possess the soul as autumn buries the glories of departing summer, and hearlds the rough blasts and drifting snows. But far sadder must be the heart -- * Halleck. 66 of him who commits a member of his own family to the dust with no hope that he will "live again." But the soul shrinks from the thought of absolute extinction. The hart panteth not after the water-brook with more eagerness than mankind anticipate a fut e existence. Against the idea of becoming lost to consciousness at death some entertain the strangest and most absurd opinions respecting the condition of the soul hereafter. The history of these singular opinions illustrates with what earnestness the race have sought to escape from the awful forebodings which the doctrine of annihilation inevitably creates. some hearts it were more congenial to reflect that the soul of a departed friend inhabits the body of a grazing beast or soaring bird. То You have seen We have said that the young man dies. him die—the young man of gifted mind, high attainments, and pure and generous aspirations. He is fitted for almost any office or calling, and can promptly meet almost any demand of his asking country. Yet alike with the unlettered and brutish, he falls in death. Who can believe that gifted mind, just expanding into its commanding greatness, and fitted to wield - mighty influence over the destinies of men, has become extinct? Who can believe that noble heart, with its pure desires and living virtues, has sunk to everlasting oblivion? Who can believe that regenerated soul, burning with quenchless zeal to advance the truth, and glowing with the purest passion-love to God—is lost in absolute extinction? None. Thought abjures the sentiment. Affection repudiates it. Religion abhors it. The imagination instinctively follows the spirit, as it enters the celestial land and its faculties continue to unfold in ceaseless and indefinite expansion. The reader has been pointed to the dying child. Perhaps he has gone down to the grave from your own family. As you stood sorrowing over the stricken "bud of being," "And death is terrible. -the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, now non The closed and sunken eye that once beamed with intelligence, or flashed with delight; the pallid lips, once uttering sentiments of wisdom, and the pulseless heart—strange contrast with life—all awaken thoughts of sadness. When absorbed in this survey of a friend's unburied remains, let the doctrine of utter annihilation take possession of the mind. The spirit which once gave life and beauty to that form of clay returned to primitive nothing existent! All that is left of the once loved friend are the lifeless remains in the coffin! A union severed never more to be enjoyed! Ties broken forever! Death-the end of all hope — an eternal parting! If the pangs of sorrow can be increased, if a drop can be added to the cup of human bitterness, this doctrine is suited to such an end. Eternal silence to reign over the future! A dark cloud dropping down its folds of blackness upon the tomb! An indescribable chaos swallowing up life eternally! Boding night- endless without a morning! Oh, what alleviation of sorrow to hear a voice breaking the deep silence of such a scene, I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE! How sweet to hail Immanuel as he comes to destroy death. to grapple with the mighty conqueror and break his tyranny in pieces." 66 If over the desolation of winter with its blasted buds, cheerless skies, and howling winds, no returning spring were to shed its genial influence, and clothe the earth with new forms of life, sadness would possess the soul as autumn buries the glories of departing summer, and hearlds the rough blasts and drifting snows. But far sadder must be the heart * Halleck. of him who commits a member of his own family to the dust with no hope that he will "live again.” But the soul shrinks from the thought of absolute extinction. The hart panteth not after the water-brook with more eagerness than mankind anticipate a fut e existence. Against the idea of becoming lost to consciousness at death some entertain the strangest and most absurd opinions respecting the condition of the soul hereafter. The history of these singular opinions illustrates with what earnestness the race have sought to escape from the awful forebodings which the doctrine of annihilation inevitably creates. To some hearts it were more congenial to reflect that the soul of a departed friend inhabits the body of a grazing beast or soaring bird. We have said that the young man dies. You have seen him die-the young man of gifted mind, high attainments, and pure and generous aspirations. He is fitted for almost any office or calling, and can promptly meet almost any demand of his asking country. Yet alike with the unlettered and brutish, he falls in death. Who can believe that gifted mind, just expanding into its commanding greatness, and fitted to wield mighty influence over the destinies of men, has become extinct? Who can believe that noble heart, with its pure desires and living virtues, has sunk to everlasting oblivion ? Who can believe that regenerated soul, burning with quenchless zeal to advance the truth, and glowing with the purest passion-love to God-is lost in absolute extinction? None. Thought abjures the sentiment. Affection repudiates it. Religion abhors it. The imagination instinctively follows the spirit, as it enters the celestial land and its faculties continue to unfold in ceaseless and indefinite expansion. The reader has been pointed to the dying child. Perhaps he has gone down to the grave from your own family. As you stood sorrowing over the stricken "bud of being," with the soft tones of its voice yet ringing in the ear, and the recollection of all that was winning and beautiful vivid as the reality, could you believe, for a moment, all that loveliness had perished forever? That there is no better, brighter world, whither such lovely beings go to dwell? No! For then would the giving of life be like weaving and straining the silver chords to see them snap asunder-like fashioning the golden bowl" to see it dashed in pieces. No! "In my father's house are many mansions," and God hath one for the departed infant. 66 Thy brother shall live again! It was announced to 66 the weeping sisters of Bethany at the grave of their brother. It was said to console them in their great affliction. Thy brother shall live again!" He has not perished. He shall live as truly as he lived on earth; live with all the faculties of his soul active as when he walked with you;live in heaven-live with God: "LIVE AGAIN!" What words to revive the drooping hopes of men in this world of the dying-to swell above the silent dust of all that is loved and lovely! If Christ had left the throne to utter no other words than these on earth, still His mission to the heirs of affliction would have been glorious. A larger debt of gratitude would yet have been His due, than we owe to our best earthly benefactor. Go to the chamber of the dying believer, and there learn how precious is this truth. Draw aside the curtain that conceals the last hours of a saint's existence on earth. Hear his faltering accents of joy and peace- a man exulting as he grapples with his last, fierce foe. Victorious struggle! Look on, ye railing skeptics, God bids you look to witness joy in intensest suffering, hope refulgent as the breaking morn, and patience in the veriest agonies! Whence comes that peace so like a river? Whence this patient bearing? It is the fruit of the hope which he cherishes to live again. Hear his triumphant language. "I know that my Redeemer |