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 (rriohographies) 
 
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 Canadiwi In^tituta fdr Htetorical MlcroraproductioM / Insthut Canadian da microraproductions hittoriquaa 
 
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 Ttdinkat ifid WbNofrsfiiile DMm/ Horn tMlmiquM M MMiefriphiiiiiM 
 
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 «om availaMa for fHrnfaif. Foaturat of tM« eomf wliioli 
 
 mayWbiMiofnpliieaNy uni^ya. ««l 
 
 of Ilia ianafM ifi Hm ra^rodiKtkMi, on 
 
 li^nHiaantly ^Hanft iha HMtal mathdd of litaiinf. ara 
 
 Coioorad aevart/ 
 Couvartura da couiaur 
 
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 0Ce«arfl 
 Couvartuia 
 
 y'-' '■ . ' -■■■■ ■■ ^^'" -' 
 
 □ Covara raftorad and/or laminatadA 
 Couvartuia rattaurte at/ou paUiauMa 
 
 □ Covar tMa miMint/ 
 La titra da eou«artur# maiiqut V 
 
 □ Colouradmapt/. '^ "::■' 
 Cartas floiraphiquat an coulauf 
 
 □ Colourad ink j|i.a. odiar than blua,or bi«eit>/ 
 Encra da eouiaur (i.a. autra qua Maua ou noira) 
 
 □ Colouiad iMatH and/So; iliuttiations/ ' 
 Planehas at/ou iliurtrationi an oo^laur * 
 
 
 
 Bound with othar matarial/ 
 Raiii avac d'autrat documants 
 
 □ Tight binding may cauia shadows or diytbrtidn 
 along intarior margin/ 
 
 La raliura tHrfa paut causar da I'ombra ou'da la 
 distorsion lalongdaiamarga inttriaura 
 
 ,' y." 
 
 Blank laavas addad duriiif rastoration may i 
 within thataxt. Whanavar possiMa. thata'hava 
 baan omittad from filming/ 
 II sa paiit qua (Bartainas pa|as Manchas ajoutiM 
 lors d'uiM rastauration apparaissant dans la taxta, 
 mais, lorsqua cala ittiit possibla. cas pagas n'ont 
 pas 4ti f ilmtes. 
 
 Additional eommants:/ 
 Commanttiras supplimant^ras: 
 
 This itam is f ihnad at tha raduction mtio chackad balow/ 
 
 Ca documant.ast filmi auttux di rMuation indiqui ci-dassoi9. 
 
 ■'"iox " ; UK ^ r ':'':■'■■ itx'- V^' 
 
 C^lnstitut a mierpfibn* la mailla u r axamplaira qu^il 
 hii a *t* paniblJ da sa proauw. Las dHaMs da eat 
 a ii amp l aita qui son! paut-«tra uniquas du point da aua 
 bibHopqpbiqua . qui^ u auaant modifiar una imaga 
 raproduita. ou qui pauaant axigar una modW ieatioii- * 
 dims la mMioda normala da fiknaga aont indiquAs 
 ddassDui, 
 
 QColoiirad pagas/ 
 Pagas da couiaur 
 
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 PkgJM rastora^.dnd^r laminatad/ 
 Pagn rastayi^ at/ou paWi^l^w ■ 
 
 Pagas d^feolourad. stainad or foxad/ 
 Fagas ^ colorte s , tacbatias ou 
 
 rqi^ig^dataehad/ 
 L-Sc^dAtachtes 
 
 HShowthrough/ 
 Transparanoa 
 
 
 
 Quality of print varias/ 
 Qualiti inigala da I'imprassion 
 
 11 Continuous paginationV 
 I I Pagination continua 
 
 □ Includes indax(as)/ 
 Comprand un (das) indax 
 
 Title on header taken from: / 
 ; Le titre da I'en-tMa provient: 
 
 □ 
 □ 
 
 title page of issue/ 
 
 Page de titre de la livraison ' 
 
 Caption of issue/ 
 
 Titre de dipart da la livraison » ^ 
 
 Mastheed/ 
 
 Ginirique (piriodiques) de la livraison 
 
 22X 
 
 26X 
 
 30X 
 
 7 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
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 32X 
 
Th« copy fllin«d h«r« has bean raproducad thank* 
 to tha Aanaroaitv of: 
 
 TlwU«Hi<C>iili«fCw»<iAriMwg 
 . . VtoiariiUHivmityAnMiM y'/'-y .■:'.-'. :: 
 
 Tha Imagaa appaaring hara ara tha baat quality 
 poaalbia conaldaring tha condition and lagibillty 
 of tha original cdpy anid in kaaping with tha 
 filming contract apacificationa. 
 
 Original copiaa in prlntad papar covars ara fiimad 
 baginning with tha front covar and anding on 
 tha laat paga with a prlntad or illuatratad imprat- 
 alon, or tha back covar whan appropriata. All 
 othar original copiaa ara fiimad baginning on tha ' 
 f init pagt with a prlntad or Illuatratad impraa- 
 aion, ind anding.on tha laat paga with a pfiiitad 
 or illuatratad impranton. 
 
 # 
 
 Tha laat racordad frama on aach mieroficha ' 
 ahall contain tha aymboi — <► (maaning "CON- 
 TINUED"L or tha fymboi Y (moaning "END"), 
 whichavar appliaa. 
 
 Mapa, plataa. eharta, ate, may ba flimtd at 
 diffarant raduction ratioa. Thosa too larga to ba 
 antiraly incliidad in ona axpotura ara fiimad 
 baginning in tha uppar iaft hand corrtar, laft to 
 right and top to bottom, aa many franiaa aa 
 raquirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha 
 mathod: 
 
 L'axamplaira film* fut raproduit grica i la 
 . ' g4n4roait* da: ' ^ ': ' 
 
 . TNUslli<ClMaiinfCMMfcAnM»w . 
 
 :^'- VliiMli llMivinily.AnMNi ... * 
 
 %,./'■'■' ' ' ■ . ■ 
 
 Las imagas auKrantoa bnt At* raproduitas avec la 
 plus grand soih, compta tanu da la condition at 
 da irjiiattat* da I'axamplaira film«, at an 
 conform'M avac las conditions du contrat da 
 filmagd, 
 
 kaa axamplairas origiriaux dont la bouvartura w* 
 papiar ast imprlmia sont filmte an commandant 
 par la pramiar plat af an tarmlnant salt par la 
 damiAra paga qui comporta una amprainta 
 d'impraasion ou d'iliustration. aoit par la aacond 
 plat, salon la cas. Toua laa autraa oxamplal'roa • 
 origiiiaux aont filmAa an commandant par la 
 pramiAra paga qui comporta una amprainfa 
 dimpiastion ou d'illustratioh at an tarmlnant par 
 la dari|ii*ra paga aui comporta una talla 
 -'amprs^nta. .;.'. '\.K.-'- .-:: -;:;■. V::.;^,^ 
 
 Un dot aymbolas suhrants apparaltra aur la 
 darhiAra imag(| da chaqu* mieroficha. salon la 
 cas: la aymbola -^^ signifia "A ^UIVRE", I* 
 symbol's V signifia "FIN". 
 
 Los cartas, planchas. tablaaux, ate, pauvant Atra 
 film«s A das taux da reduction diff Arants. ; 
 Lorsqua la document aat trop grarfd pourAtra 
 raproduit an un saul clichA, il aat fiimA A partir 
 da I'angia aupAriaur gaucha. da gaucha A droita, 
 at da haut an bas, an pranantia nombra ' 
 , d'imagas nAcaasaira. Las diagrammasauivants 
 illuatrant la mAthoda. 
 
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 A DISCOURSE 
 
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 DBUVERED AT THE METHODIST NEW COKNEXION CONFERENCE 
 WATipRDOWN, JUNE 6t^ 1869, ' 
 
 BV TBi; 
 
 REV. WIIXIAM eOCKER, D. D. 
 
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 PUBLISHED BY IteQUISST OP THE CONFERENCE. 
 
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 DEPARTEI) SAINTS; 
 
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 THE SOUL-St^EEPING THEORY CONFUTED. 
 
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 A DISCOURSE 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE METHODIST NEW CONNEXl 
 f wXtERDOWN, JUNE «t«, 1869, 
 
 NFERENCB 
 
 tEV. WILLIAM GOCkIeII, D. D. 
 
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 PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THI! CONFERENCE. 
 
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 IMMBDIATB UL|^GDN£BH OF DEPARTKU tiAUiXQ : 
 
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 THE BOUL-BLXXFINO THEOBY OOHTUTEP. 
 
 TMiftfAnM I. n^U. 
 
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 " For to in« to IIvd Ir ChHiit, mi«1 to file la nin 
 
 illrl 
 
 lint If I live In Ihnflmri^^ 
 thi* !• th«< frttlt of my UlMinr : y<tt wImI I shAlT tIkmiimi I wi>t not, ftir I am In m , 
 Ntrait twtwixt two, havintt r tlMlr« to <lep«rt, »n«l t4> Im with Chrlft ; which ln'j 
 fur l)«tt«r : n«v«rtli«l««ii, to fthulu In the flesh la niuro neetlfnl for you." / 
 
 ••»' 
 
 i. 
 
 The final doAtiny of tho human soul is n subject of 
 peculiar solemnity and paramount importance. Com- , 
 pared with this, many of those questions that agitate the 
 world, are but as childish frivolities. On this subject* 
 though it is of equal moment to all men, tho most oppo- i 
 site opinions are entertained. There are those who re- 
 gard the soul as material and mortal like the body : a* 
 nothing more than the result of our physical organization, 
 and, therefore, doomed to pass away when that orgai^ixa- 
 tion shall be dissolved. ! 
 
 That this view is at variance with the instinctive ten- 
 dencies of our nature, is what every candid man wiU allow. 
 The idea of losing all consciousness, all recollection of the 
 past and all anticipations of the future, and becoming My 
 thougii we ha<l never been, wraps our spirits in appalling 
 gloom ; it chills the heart ; it withers all that is gener- 
 ous and noble in our nature ; it brings us into fellowship 
 with- the beasts that perish; it assimilates us to blocks 
 and stones ; it thus does violence to our deepest and 
 strongest sympathies ; and we flee from it as from the 
 
 ®' 
 
trfi 
 
 )£ 
 
 "\ 
 
 ftce. of some hideous monster. I^ a man should tell you 
 
 • that the highest destiny he wishes for himself is that of 
 
 ' becoming a lump of senseless cky, you would look upon 
 
 . him with astonishment as a strange and unintelligible ex- 
 
 cdption to our.race, or you Mo\M regard him with pity as 
 
 a maii bereft of reason. 
 
 ^ The Christian doctrine of the soul's immortality is cer- 
 tainly paore consonant to that love of life and that longing 
 After future good, "those pleasing hopes and fond desires" 
 which are characteristic of our common humanity. The 
 practiijal tendency of this doctrine is also most powerful 
 ; and benign. It is admirably adapted to stimulate man's 
 
 inteUectual energies andiio purify his moral aflfectioiis; to 
 strengthen and reane 'his domestic endearments and his 
 social sympathies; to jpiom<)te his constant growth in 
 knowledge and virtue; to inspire him with noble pur- 
 poses and prompt him to glorious deeds ; to clothe his 
 mind with fortitude and fill his heart with consolation 
 amidst the troubles of life ; to deliver him fr6m the en- 
 ^ slaving f4r8 of death, and Enable him to cont^plate His 
 ' removal from earth, not only with the composure of a 
 smind free from fe^r, but with» gladness of a spirit radi- 
 ant with hope. 
 
 ^ The Apodtle Paul was under the purifying and ennob- 
 ling influence of this great doctrine when be uttered the 
 . madB of pur text He exulted in the prospect of a bliss- 
 fill unmortality. He felt the mighty attraction of heaven 
 drawing his heart above eveiything earthly. The pros- 
 pect of being with Ghrist filled his soul with rapture. He 
 desired to depart," knowing that, "if absent from the 
 -body," he alumld "be present iHth^ Lord." His hearty 
 his .treasure, his honHie, were in heaven ; and thither he 
 looked for the complete fiUfilment of his highest hopes, . 
 for the entire satjrfaction of his holiwt affections and do 
 

 Hires, and for the glorious recompense of all his sacrifices 
 and toiU ; ^ei, with that spirit of self-abnegation which ' <• 
 is inseparable fix>m true greatness, he was willing to re- , 
 main amidst his hibours, conflicts, and sufferings, if, by so 
 doing, he might advance the interests of the Church, and 
 glorify his Kedeemer and Lord. . He was " in a stnit be* 
 twixt two." His strong attachment to the Church, his 
 affectionate solicitude for those who were his ow^piri 
 tual children, and his deep, absorbing interest in tliplrork 
 to which he had been ctdled as a divinely commissioned 
 ambassador, bound him to earth, as an anchor holds a ship 
 to its moorings r whilst heavenly influences were operat- 
 ing upon him, as a powerful gale upon a vessel, to bear 
 him away from these mortal shores to the fairer scenes and 
 fuller ei^oyments of the "better countiy." 
 
 The Apostie's doctrine, and the Apostle's desire, are 
 the two things that Jiow invite our attention. 
 
 1— ThJP ArOSTU^B DOCTRINB. :^ 
 
 He manifestly regarded death as the passage of the 
 fioiil to a better state of b^ng— as its immediate introduc- ' 
 tioh into the presence of Jesus Christ. He desired to de- 
 part that he might be with Christ. And we are thus 
 clearly, tau^t, that the soul of the departing saint at once 
 enters into a holier sphere for the exercise of its devout ' 
 affections and the development of ite noble powers. It 
 seems strange that this delightful doctrine of inimediate 
 blessedness after death should have met with any opposi- 
 tion amongst men professing the Christian fai^ But 
 there are those who adopt, ivhat may be ctdled, the soul- 
 sleeping theory. They tell us that when the body dies, 
 the soul falls into a profound sleep, in which it will re- 
 main until lb® mommg of the resurrection. 
 
 We regard this theory an repugnant*^ to the best wishes 
 and feelings of the renewed heart ; as discountenanced by 
 
the philosophy of the human mind ; and as contrary to 
 ♦ the teachings of God's word. 
 
 \d,—Thi8 theory U at mrianee vfith ourfeeHngg arnl 
 ^ dedres as men, and with our ardent hopes and dewmt a«- 
 piratimis as Christians. It involves the temporary loss of 
 our heing, for we cannot conceive of the soul as existing 
 when thought and activity, its distinguishing properties, 
 are withdrawn. Now, from such a loss of all conscious- 
 ness, for an indefinite period, our natural and spiritual in- 
 stincts at once recoa Death, so melancholy in the cir- 
 cumstan<jes that precede and accompany his approach, 
 is invested with additional gloom and terror by this un- 
 welcome and repulsive theory. The pangs of bereavement 
 are greatly aggravated by the chilling notion, that the 
 ■ souls of our beloved departed ones are as insensible as 
 the clods of the valley. The hope of future glory is de- 
 prived of much of its fervor and its invigorating influence 
 by this supposed delay in its realizatioji. ' 
 
 On the other hand, the assurance that death is the im- 
 mediate introduction of the soul into a more exalted state 
 of being—a state where its powei^ will be more vigorous, 
 its conceptiomi more comprehensive, and its progress in 
 all that is good and great more rapid and glorious, is one of 
 the richest sources of consoktion aAiidst the griefs and ' 
 struggles of life, and one of the best antidotes to the dread 
 of death, Let me be assured that the disruption of ten- 
 der tiesj the loss of endeared associations, and mys^Nwa- 
 ^ tion from all that interests me on earth, will be 
 immediately followed by heavenly compensations; that 
 the friendships of earth will be exchanged for the holier 
 fellowship of heaven; that. I shall leave the sweet and 
 solemn services of the earthly sanctuary, to enter, without 
 a moment's deky; into tha* celestial temple, whose conse- 
 - ijxated aisles are trod by bright throngs of worshipping 
 
t angels and glorified spirits, and whose triumphant and 
 adoring songs will never cease, and then, I can look for- 
 ward to the hour of my departure^ not only without 
 gloomy apprehensions, hut with the eagerness of strong 
 desire and the joyfulness of hope. < 
 
 The devout spirit reaches forth to the things that are 
 before ; it mounts, oh the eagle wings qf faith and love 
 to things, above ; and are we to suppose that its glimpses 
 of the glory that sludrl be revealed and its foretastes of the 
 joys to come, are the precursors of insensibility 1 that, in- 
 stead of entering that paradise of beauty and blessedness, 
 whose overhanging fruits it plucked imd whose wafted 
 fn^prance it caught as it approached the end of its pil- 
 grimage, it will suddenly fall into the darkness and desola- 
 tion of the gravel : - • ^ \ ^' ^ , 
 ; It has now that.A4ife of peace " which is the heritage 
 of the spiritually minded ; and it lonj^ for the time when 
 it will enjoy that divine life in its fullest vigour, and that 
 inexpressible peace in-its purest calm : and Ar6 wo to be^ 
 lieve that its fervent aspirations, instead o^ being realized 
 in the realms of light, . will be extinguished in the gloom 
 of death 1 Does it not freeze 'the heart to think that long 
 ages may intervene between thfe promise and the fulfil- 
 ment I We can have no sympMihy with the hollow, heart- 
 less pretence, tht^t for our souls to lie in the grave for ages 
 will be no loss to us, inasmuch as it will be an interval of 
 unconsciousness. In the same way we might reconcile 
 ourselves to annihilation. But, if true to the holiest' in- 
 stincts and l<»ngings of his spiritual nature, the Christian' 
 must fed, that the extinction of life and thought for ageSj 
 'would lesson his bein^ and impoverish his inheritance. , 
 
 We do not offer these thoughts as decisive evidence of 
 the soul's uninterrupted consciousness 5 but as considera- 
 tions that powerfully influence our feelingi;^ and constrain 
 
 y .■■ 
 
 ■■■/' 
 
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T, *'l^f 
 
 <'y'L*^if<ff 
 
 Ay 
 
 
 w to ding to thia belief: It is, to say the least, a strong 
 presumption in favour of a doctrine, when it is found to 
 be in harmony with the purest affections and the noblest 
 desires of the regenerated heart. We welcome every ray 
 ^ of^evidence in favour of a doctrine which is so congeniiU 
 and precious. ® 
 
 2«d~H^ fftmUi/ avail ourselves 0/ the evidence fur^ 
 ntehed hy the nature of the soul itself 
 
 (1.) It is one of the dearest and most reliable deduc- 
 tions of philosophy, that the soul and the body, though 
 mysteriously united, are essentially distinct and different in 
 their nature. The essence of matter aiid the essence of 
 mmd are alike shrouded in mystery ; but their existence 
 18 demonstrated by their respective properties and pheno- 
 mena, and these show them to be totaUy dissimilar The 
 y^ thought of this distinction proves it, for that thought 
 does not belong to matter, but to mind.. There is no 
 
 :inorethoughtinetherial sunbeams ttum in the gros^st 
 ^olyects on which they shine; no more of tho#it in the 
 electee flash than in the rock which it shivers to pieces. 
 That the particles of matter composing the human body 
 are capable of thinking, is too absurd for any one to im- 
 ^e; ^ thaf the feculty of thought may result W 
 the organmfaon of these unthinking particles, is a suppo- 
 sition no less /inationaL This organization is notUg 
 more than a certain arrangement of parte, and to suppose 
 that^o arramfement of parte may be the basis of quaK- 
 ties>nuch are not to be found in tiie parte themsdves. 
 would-be tiie purest fiction, or rattier, a palpable absurd- 
 ity^ Jt would not be more ridiculous to suppose th^t the 
 cardinal virtues might be ^uced \yy a fine arrangement 
 of thjB prunaiy colours. • : ' 
 
 ,The bodymay.be divided into counties* millions of 
 parts ; but that the mind is'icapable of this endless divi- ' 
 
 i>^: 
 
::/ 
 
 u 
 
 » ■• i 
 
 '•t'".'. 
 
 sion and 8ub-divi»ion, is wliat no one in his senses can 
 believe. ' - 
 
 Physiologist* tell us that the body is perpetually 
 changing, so that the matter which composed it twenty 
 •years ago,.may now be blooming hi the flowers that, de- 
 light us with their beauty, or soaring in the birds that 
 charm us with their song. But that which a man calls 
 /iiwwcZ/, that which constitutes his personal identity, the 
 reflective, Woning, remembering mind, is not subject to 
 such changes. The old man of four score yearsj needs 
 no argument to convince him that he is the same being 
 now that he was when the bloom of youth was on his 
 cheek, and the fire of youth flashed from his eyes. And 
 that which remains unchanged amidst all the transmuta- 
 tions which the body undergoes, must be something dis- 
 tinct from the body, and something that may survive the 
 shock of death itself. , 
 
 " (2.) This essential diflerence between the body and the 
 Boul is obviously impKed, if i^t direcUy taught, in many^ 
 statements and allusions of Scripture. 
 
 In the account of man's creation we are told that he 
 was made in the image of God. To what, then, did this 
 image belong? The body was moulded into beautiful pro- 
 portions by the Divine hand,; but it could not bear the 
 likeness of its Maker : it was formed out of the dust of 
 the earth, and thete can be no resemblance between mat- 
 ter, in any of its modifications, and God, who is a spirit 
 Nor could this granddistinction pertain to the physical 
 life that animated the mute and motionless statue when 
 God breathed into it, for man possessed that life in com- 
 mon with the living things that had been previously 
 created. That image, which was man's crowning excel- 
 lence, consisted in "knowledge, righteousness, and true 
 holiness," and these God-like. qualities could belong only 
 to the immaterial and intelligent spirit. . 
 
 I 
 
.11 !^1 
 
 m 
 
 J2 
 
 ■,«-' 
 
 Soiibmon, in his graphic deacription of man's bodily 
 
 decay and final dissolution, says : — " Then shall the dust 
 
 return to the earth as it was,, and tlie spirit shall return 
 
 unto Gpd who gave it." When the matchless mechanism 
 
 of the body shall be dissolved, aiid its elements shall again 
 
 mingle with the dust, the spirit, of nobler birth, and liable 
 
 to no such dissolution, voiX return to Him by whom it was 
 .^bestowed. :■..•■•;■'••":; ;;\" . .VV .■ ;:;^;i . 
 
 The words of Jesus Christ are most explicit on this 
 distinction between body and soul : — " Fear not them who 
 kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul." K the 
 apirit resulted from the bodily organization, its destruction 
 would necessarily be involved in that of the body. But 
 we are told that they who can kiU the body are not able 
 to kill the soul. The material body may be wounded, 
 mutilated, and destroyed by the deadly instruments of 
 persecution ; but the simple, uncompounded spirit is im- 
 pervious to every kind of external violence. * The sword 
 of the malignant persecutor cannot pierce it, nor can his 
 hottest fires consume it. From the flames of martyrdom 
 it rises unscathed, utdiurt, to flourish in its own immor^ 
 . i»dity.^' ' 
 
 The Apostle Paul speaks of being " almnt from the 
 body," "in the body," and "out of the body;" and his ■ 
 language is intelligible enough on the principle that the 
 body and soul are distinct, but otherwise unwairantable 
 and absurd.'-'" -;'-:''.'■ ■::''\:"^.- :■'■'■'■:■ ■••'■^^^ '■ ■' 
 
 It is because we possess a nature higher and nobler 
 than that of the body, a reflj^ctive, responsible, immortal 
 soul, to which the "inspiration of the Almighty giveth 
 understanding," and which may be adorned with all those 
 moral excellencies which constitute the image ofjGrdd, 
 that ^e are commanded to "labour not'for the ineat that 
 perisheth, but for that meat whicliN^ndureth unto oyer- 
 
■■"'■'' ■■■"/' ■/..•■•'■'■'■■■ ■■-'•■:■"'■ " ■■ ".■■f*--..f''' • •; -.■■• • ' '■''■.^- ■'. 
 
 laaUpg life," Tho doclaration of jeaus is iiu^nifostly boaod 
 ott^ this profound pliiloaophy of o^ spiritual nature: 
 '*Pilian shall not liv/e by bread alone, but by every word 
 that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'* , 
 
 By these reasonings, and these divine intimations, wo 
 .are conducted to the important conclusion, that the death 
 of the body-wiU have no tendency to destroy the soul. 
 When the pulsations of the natural life shall cease, the 
 higher life of the spirit, the energy of tlie intelligent 
 principal, will continue in all it«f vigour. \ 
 
 We are aware that some of the advocates of the souV 
 sleeping theory would endorse what has been said as to 
 the indestructible nature of the human spirit. But they 
 hold the opinion, that while it will hot be destroyed, its 
 , consciousness will be suspended. Now we confess our 
 inability -to see the difference between the destruction of 
 the soul and the suspension of all its faculties. It seems 
 to us exceedingly unphilosophicol and extremely absurd , 
 to suppose that the mind may exist when deprived of it» 
 essential attribute, the power of thought. The loss of 
 consciousness is the loss of existence. As we cannot 
 conceive of matter existing with^ its distinguishing pro- 
 perties abstracted from it, so it is impossible* to form any 
 intelligible notion of the soul existing without its distinc- 
 tive peculiarities. Mind, without thought and conscious- 
 ness,' and matter, without solidity and extension, are 
 equally absuwi ideas. 
 
 That the soul is dependent upon the body for the fex- 
 ercise of its faculties, is a supposition which there is 
 nothing in the nature of thfi soul to countenance, but 
 everything to ceijfute. For some of its perceptions and 
 impressions it id indebted to the ministry of the physical 
 fienses, but it is capable of thoughts and emotions 
 whicb cannot be originate by any of th^e senses. 
 
 pfe 
 
^sr'vsw™ * 
 
 I 
 
 14 
 
 
 I 
 
 'It poeso8808 wonderful powers of abstraction and reflec- 
 tion, by which it can retire within itself, and pursue 
 trains of thought with which the bodily senses have no- 
 thing to do. It can review its own opinions and investi- 
 gate its own nature, It can commune with itself. It can 
 bold intercourse with the wise and mighty dead. It can 
 contemplate the Infinite and Eternal Spirit Its thoughts 
 of God, and the deep, intense, and varied emotions awak 
 oned by those thoughts, are not traceable to tlie influ- 
 ence of outward objects and material organs 
 
 It is a fact familiar to you all, that when the senses of 
 the body are locked up in sleep, the soul can exercise its , 
 power of thought ; ranging over the scenes of childhood, 
 conversing with distant and departed friends, and experi- 
 encing all the alternations of hope and fear, joy and grief, 
 rapture and despair. And so when the body shall fall 
 into the deep sleep of the grave, the soul will expatiate 
 amidst scenes of beauty and sources of blessedness suited 
 to its spiritual nature. 
 
 Our conviction of this is not at all .weakened by the 
 fact, that the soul is variously affected by the changing 
 conditions of the body. They are mysteriously associated 
 for the purposes of the present life, and it is reasonable to 
 expect that the exereises of the soul will bo afiected by 
 the state of those physical organs which are the medium 
 of its intercoi|r$e with external nature, and the; instrument 
 of its power. But we must not overlook the fact, that, 
 when the body has been attenuated almost to a shadow, 
 when all its powers have been unstrung, the soul has ap- 
 peared in the highest vigour of its intellectual life and the 
 fullest glow of its spiritual affections. It has attained to 
 an elevation of thought, a triumph of faith, and an ec* 
 Stacy of joy, whiclr it never knew before. Amidst the 
 darkness of death it luis flashed forth with the brilli- 
 
 • 
 
 • *.£ ^fii^y^'f^siM^ «»,'«> 
 
■■■ f 
 
 • ■:;■,■.•■. ■• ; i ■>•; ; V. ; /liv-v , ■ ■,.:.•:,..■■ .■■■;:^';'; 
 
 aBM of a V^c^^J^ B**" ^™ ^****^** ^® ^* oUcuring 
 elements were being removed, and put forth the power 
 of an incorruptible nature almort dirontangled from tht» 
 earthy matter that held it down. Who ha« not felt him- • . 
 gelf on the verge of heaven when, seated by the departing 
 saint, he has witnessed these evidences of Inward strength, 
 these vigorous pulsations of spiritual health, these bright 
 outbeamings of animated hope, and this joyfUl triumph of 
 a spirit feeling itself free even in the grasp of death t , , 
 And thus does the indwelling •pirit demonstrate ita 
 superiority ta the decaying and dying body, and furnish, 
 at least, presumptive evidence of ^he unbroken continu- 
 anceof its noble powers when its tinjon with the body 
 
 shall be dissolved. V v^ 
 
 We do not say that there Is an absolutely necessary 
 connection between the immateriality of the soid and its 
 continued existence after the death of the body. It does 
 not follow, as a necessary consequence, that what is imma- 
 terial must be immortal. But the spiritual nature of the 
 souj fully warrants the conclusions, that death will have 
 no tendency to destroy it ; that it may continue in the 
 vigorous exercise of its various powew when the natural 
 life shall expire ; that when separated from the frail com- 
 panion of its earthy pilgrimage, it may delight itself in 
 rejections and experiences such as material organs could 
 
 not originate. ^ ^ ' ■ v ' .• 
 
 Our inability to comprehend how the spirit will exist, 
 in a disembodied state, during the interval between death 
 and the resurrection, is no valid objection to our views, 
 forwedonotknowhow the soul is connected with^^a|^ 
 body, or I how it receives sensations and impressio^ 
 through ihe medium of that complicated mechanism with 
 which it is now united. 
 
 We 1^ free tb admit, however, that the evidence de^ 
 
 # 
 

 rivable from the nature of tlie soul, though valuable aa 
 far aa it gooa, ii not sufflcient to give ua entire iatisfoction. 
 In the abaence of euperior light, the thadow of doubt 
 would come over bur most plauaible «po<mUition«, and our 
 itoiiida be tlpomed to alternate between hope and fear. 
 
 Jt should, therefore, ail our hearta with grateful prtlae 
 to know that we have a mre teHimony aa to the active 
 
 exiatenco of the soul between death and the reaunection 
 I mom. v'. :''"" ' ■■;•:' .v'l '•'■i. ■•' "'- «/.- .■■ :. ' ■ ,■^'■■^' 
 
 3n/.— 77w itudineU of our nature^ the deductions of our 
 reaeon, and (he deriree ofths renewed heart, arc fully au- 
 thenticated by the word of Ood^: -^t I 2; ',. 
 . We are not left to buUd our hopee of immediate hap^ 
 pineaa, after death, on abstract speculation, or philosophic 
 probability. When we turn to the "Uving oracless," the 
 hypothetical and the probable give place to the certain J 
 the glimmering lighiof reason is exchanged for the gloiy 
 of noon day; and the* faltering knguage of intellectual 
 inquiry is followed by the full assurance of faith. The 
 Scripture language is so phiin and unequivocal as to make 
 it a matter of wonder tliat any ond can doubt. We can 
 notice only a few of the many passages in which the doc- 
 trine of an intermediate state is either clearly implied or 
 explicitly taught. / \; ; 
 - God said to Moses :— " I am tihe God of Abraham, and 
 the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob /f* and Christ, 
 when reasoning with the unbelieving gaducees, said, i)r^ 
 reference to this passage:— "God is not the God of JIhe 
 dead, but of tlie Uving." Long Wore this declaiition 
 was made at the burning bush, the bodies of the patri- 
 archs had been consigned to the dust j but God was still 
 their God, because their spirits were still living. He can- 
 not be the God of the dead. They cannot hear his voice ; 
 they cannot receive and reciprocate hia love j they cannot 
 
 
'^■^i^^mw^^'^ 
 
 If 
 
 >» 
 
 1 . ■. '. 
 
 bear hi* glorioiui imago ; thoy cannot ei\joy Him at thoir 
 portion. The living alono can havo Him for their God. 
 Ufran thorn alone He oan lift the light of Hia coun- 
 tenance ; to them alone He oan communicate the 
 richea of Hia grace ; with them alone He oan hold oom* 
 munion ; and from thorn alone Ho oan receive those 
 •xpreaaiona of grateful and affectionate homage which aro ; 
 due to Him, and in which He delight«» Thia Divine de- 
 claration, illumined by the comment of the great Teacher, 
 Aimishea an argument which no aophiatry can ahake: 
 
 The evidence afforded by tho account of the rich man 
 and lAzorua, ia not leaa clear and conoluaive. " The beg- 
 gar died, and was carried by angola to Abraham's boaom ; 
 the rich man alao diod, and in hell he liftod up hia eyes, 
 being in torment." If these worda have any meaning, 
 they teach ua that tho soul of the pioua beggar was • 
 •traightway convoyed, by ministering lingels, to its reward 
 in heaven ; and that the spirit of the rich wonlling inime- 
 mediately passed to its own place of terrible retribution. 
 The Saviour would have us to, read tho doctrine by the 
 lurid fiamo in which one was tormented, and by the light 
 of the celestial glory with which the cjther was crowned. 
 To say that this is .a parable, does not i at all weaken its 
 force, for parables aro designed to teach iis truths, not 
 faladioods ; and this parable might ha^e been constructed 
 on the soul-sleeping theory, if it Had lieen the true one, 
 as well as on its opposite. • ! | ' ' v 
 
 The Saviour said to the penitent thi^ on the cross h— 
 " Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt tl^ou be with me in 
 paradise :" and no ingenuity of criticism lean explain away 
 thia gracious promise of immediate liappiness. The ad- 
 vocates of the soid-sleeping system liavlp resorted io the '■■ 
 pitiable expedient of supposing that thti words" to-day " * 
 were not intended to fix the time when the promise should 
 
 i."* :;_.,! 
 
/■ 
 
 18 
 
 
 
 b« fulftJliMl, but limply to a«not« tJw tfifi« w!i«ii ft wu xsaAiif 
 They raatl tli« pMii«t(« thu« — " Verily I My unto thtjc to* 
 J*y, thoU ihdt lie wltli mo in pAratliiie ;" m thouKli the 
 <lying potitioner couW Im ignorant «f th« time when the 
 |)romui6 wo* given, and ntHxltnl to Ini nMureU, with so 
 much omphMiM, Uiat it .wm on that clay. Huch ii the ri- 
 Uiculoui ahminlity into which men are betrayed, when 
 they attempt to darken what is m clear and to pervert 
 what i« ao precious. Those wonl« of the Lord Jesus ar«. 
 in harmony irith many more sayings of His which wo have 
 not time tdti^yce. , 
 
 The apf>earance of Mosos and Eiyah, in their gloriouij^ 
 costume, on the mount of transfiguration, (ilacos the ac- 
 tive existence of their spirits, after their departurc,'beyond 
 all reasonable doubt. , 
 
 Jlio writings of tJie Apostle Pwj Abmind Arith testi- 
 monies as direct and decisive as,i|ii^ that can be conceive<l 
 or desireil. ^ Wo might fearlessly^ke the whole question 
 on the wonls of our text: "For to me to live is Christ, 
 and to die is gain ; but if I live in the flesh, this is the 
 fhiit of my labour : yet what I shall choose I wot not; 
 for I am in a strait betwixt t#c>, hairing a desire to de- 
 part, and to be with Christ,- ''^V.^^il* ^^ \ifi\\AiX ; never- 
 theless, to abide in the flesh is 
 How could he have made these d 
 eiiced this "strait," this strife of 
 desire to depart, if he had held the h 
 that his death would involve an immediate 8u$peli8ion of 
 oU his faculties and a long cessation df all his joys 1 Hie 
 f continuance in the present life and his departure from it, 
 irere the two things betwixt which his spirit wavered ; 
 and he tells us that the latter would be " gain " to him, 
 and was an object of intense desire. But is it conceivable 
 that he would have regarded his death aa a personal ad- 
 
 <^, 
 
 IftjJ^ for you." • 
 expefi- 
 ^and 
 ing thei 
 
 / 
 
 i 
 
 
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■ n 
 
 t 
 
 1, 
 
 •l ^ 
 
 M^ 
 
 ly to )m) tlenirml, if ho 
 III MOttl 1 Could ht) think it 
 
 vantaK«^, M a coniuiiii 
 had bttlioveil in tl^ 
 **g«in " to efcluMMkUiu ctiRtiuunion of Mint* and all tho 
 joys of hi« •pIlMWlifu in!'(Jhri«t for thn tiuwiwibility of 
 the gravoY Could ho i{mXi it *' far b»ttor " to have hit 
 noblo {Whron paralynnl by death, than to employ thoni in 
 Having tho souiii of m«n and awcUing Uio triumphs of tho 
 oroMi 1 Tho dilvotod Honry ftCartin could aay : — **I do not 
 wiah for any lieaven on earth beaiduR tliat of proaching 
 tho prucious Goapol of Joaua Chriat to immortal noubi." 
 And sHall wo dishonour tho namo of tho great Apostlo by 
 supposing that this difficulty of choice lay between tho 
 glorious work of the ministry, and tho temporary annihil- 
 ation of his being 1 Huch a view would outrage all tho 
 lessons of oxitorienco and all tho dictates of common 
 sense. Which of us would think it gain to sink into a 
 state of uncoiuiciou:4nosH 1 Tlie gloomy and tho diacon- 
 tentoil, tho dejected and the deiymnding, may say there is 
 worth living for ; but we caa have no sympa- 
 a sentiment so <<4nnatural and unworthy. Tho 
 Ibf natl^and the productions of art, tho sweets 
 friendship and the endearments of h(»uo, the pleasures 
 of intelleotiuil culture and tho privilegi; of doing good, all 
 tend to make life a most precious tl^ug. To tlie Christian, 
 life is inestimably valuable, as affording him opportunities 
 /or glorifying his Divine Master, by cheriahiiig in his own 
 heart, and imparting to the souls of his fellow man, those 
 holy principles and affections that will live when the 
 heavens have passed away. The Apostle's "strait" was 
 not between the activities of life and tho sleep of death, 
 but between living to preach Christ on earth and depart- 
 ing to be with Him in heaven, — between immediate re- 
 ward and prolonged usefulness. He thought liot of a 
 long tuad dreary interval of unconaciousnoas, but of instant 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Ct 
 
 '.^K' 
 

 
 OD 
 
 $ 
 
 
 
 -..., '^"■)\''- 
 
 
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 1% 
 
 %\oty. He had been ^'caught up to the third heaven ;" he 
 hod stood amidst its. glowing splendour Mid minglpd with 
 its glorified throng ; he had seen « the spirits of just men 
 made perfect /' and living looked on their ineffable gl6^ 
 ries and listened to ' their npturous songs, h^ longed to 
 depart that he might again be with them. Above all, he 
 'had seen the blessed Redeemer in all the majesty of His 
 exalted state, and he burned with holy desire again to b^ 
 hold His glory. This assurance of entering heaven di- 
 rectly upon his death is expressed in the following words, 
 with a clearness and fulness that render misconception 
 impossible: "for we know that if our earthly house of 
 this tabemaqle were dissolved, we have a building of 
 Ood, a hou^ not made with hands, eternal in the heav- 
 ens. Therefpre, we are always, confident, knowing that 
 whilst we are at home in the body, vr& are absent in the 
 , Lord. We jire confident, . I say, and willing rather to be 
 absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." 
 
 When the Apostle speaks of those ancient worthies, 
 whose faith and patiencei enabled them to overcome all 
 their difficulties and to vanquish all their foes, he doesT 
 not represent them as doomed to the sle^p of ages, but as 
 already in poss«fesion of their inheritance :—"Tiat ye be 
 not slothful, but followers of them who, through faith and 
 patience, inJient thB promises." According to the soul- 
 sleeping theory, the spirits of those devoted men who so 
 patiently suffered and so heroically died-in their Master's 
 cause, are as devoid of life and ,action as the el^nents of 
 their mouldering bodies, scatteied through air, and etEoth, 
 and sea; but, accoMUng to the Apostle, th^y are crowned 
 with the^ompense of reward, they possess the promised ' 
 inheritance. In other parts of his Epistles he speaks of 
 them as " them that are sanctified," as " the saints in ' 
 light," and as "the spirits of just meii made perfect," In 
 
 
 / 
 
 •*v. 
 
•*■ 
 
 -■■C'- ■.:■..■ '■ :'. 1. ^ ■■\v-:-'^v:::;.^;: ■■■■■;• 
 
 thye, and oth&r incidental alliisions, he obviously aMumea 
 the immediate blessedness of departed saints. 
 
 We are told that when Stephen was departing he saw 
 "the heavens opening," and prayed, "Lord Jesua receive 
 my spirit." So far was this most dWout man removed 
 from the mekncholy idea of falling into darkness, so in- 
 tense was his consciousness of indestructible Itfe, so vigor- 
 ous was his faith and so blooming with immortality his 
 hope in Christ, that he saw quite through the crumbling 
 tenement of fleshy and, as the splendours of the opening 
 heavens and the majesty of the glorified Saviour burst 
 upon his enraptured vision", he breathed forth the prayer, 
 " Lord Jesus receive my spirit" Such a vision and such 
 a prayer are totally incompatible lijtii the idga «tl>** 1*^ 
 was just on the point of sinking into insensibiKtJjF. 
 
 The sublime visions of the Apostle John are in beau- 
 tiful harmony with all that has now been advancetl. He 
 saw a great multitude, clothed in white raiment, and palms 
 in their liands, standing before the throne, and before the 
 Lamb ; and he was told that the spirits bearing these em- 
 blems of purity and conquest, weie those who had passed 
 through great tribulation, and washed their rpbes in the 
 blood of the Lamb." The souls of those that were beheaded 
 fot the testimony of Jesus, the noble army of martyrs, are 
 not held captive in the gloom and silence of the sepulchre, 
 but are glorified and triumphant before' the throne of God. 
 It was most appropriate that, after being favored with 
 these visions, he should hear the "voice from, heaven" 
 commanding him to write, for the instruction and consola^ ; 
 tion of all who had yet to engage in the gooid fight of £edth; 
 " blessed are the de^d that die in the Lord from hence- 
 forth j yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest from their 
 labors ; and their works do follow them." . | 
 
 How consolatory, how inspiring, how glorious is the ' 
 
p^*'W!^m. 
 
 \ 
 
 19 
 
 it; 
 
 conclqaiou to which we are thus conducted ! Koaooii^^ 
 the frail tabetnacle of flesh dissolved, than the disencjp^ 
 bered spirit rises, with more than the lightning's speed, 
 and more than the seraph's rapture, to the presence of its 
 Redeemer and God ! No sooner is the perishable casket 
 broken by the stroke of death, than the precious gem 
 which it contained flashes with the light of heaven in the 
 mediatorial d|iadem of Jesus ! No sooner does the helmet 
 fall from |ie head of the Christian soldier, than the crown 
 of glory sparkles there ! No sooner does the sword of 
 warfare drop from the dying warrior's hand, than the vic- 
 tor's pdlm is wav>d before the eternal throne ! The shout 
 of victory in the valley of death is instantly followed by 
 the song of final triumph on the mount of heaven ! The 
 last expre8sio|i of undying lov.e to Christ which the be- 
 lieving soul isWble to pve on eariJi, is immediately suc- 
 ceeded by the ^sion of His gloiy, and the enjoyment of 
 His fellowsffip in heaven ! . 
 
 Thiswo^derful transition Of the spirit from its transient ■ 
 abode on earth to its eternal habitation in heaven, was the 
 object of that fervent desire which the Apostle expresses 
 so en^phatically in our text, and which is now to come 
 under our notice. ■ 
 
 n. — ^ThB APOStLE's X)£8IRE. 
 
 ^ 1* l&rag ft deare to dep^ to be with Christ, 
 
 which is far better." This desire may be considered ob- 
 jecHvehj and ml^ectively, in relation to its object, and the 
 state of mind of which it is indicative. 
 
 lit,— In relation to its glorious otyeet. 
 
 To be with Christ was the object of Paul's supreme 
 desire; fte regarded death as "gain," because "it would 
 introduce him into the presence of his Divine Saviour. 
 What may be comprehended in being with Christ, is a* 
 question which we cannot adequately answer. It will be 
 
 f , 
 
23 
 
 ;><fArbetW' than anything that can be attainec! iii the 
 pzeaent life. Whatever measuies of knowledge, atid love, 
 and happiness, the Christian may now oibtain, it will be 
 "far better'' to be with Christ Even if theee spiritual atUin- 
 ments conld be ei\joyed apart from all earthly evil, and in 
 the possession of all ^hly good, it would still be incal- 
 culably better to bMjll^th^esus. It is good to be in those 
 heavenly plac^-^nlpB He abready makes us sit together 
 with Him, as|l^iditate on His glories and celebrate His 
 praise; but it lMbe**fM better'^ beyond all that 
 
 can be conceived by the human mind, or expressed in the 
 f(|eble IfTignay of mortality— to be with Him in " heaven 
 
 iteeifi"- ■;.V::/ :"■■■■ •'^■■■^ 
 
 (1.) There the soul will have such a vision of His 
 glory as will far transcend all its present conceptions, and 
 such a knowledge of his redeeming.character and work, as 
 will immeasurably exceed all that it can now attain to. 
 
 Amidst those resplendent objects that attract the atten- 
 tion, and excite the admiration of the glorified in heaven^ 
 there is One of peerless beauty— of surpassing magnificence— 
 " in the midst of the throne." It is that illustrious Per> 
 soiu^e, who is "the image of the invisible God," "the 
 brightness of the Father's glory." He sits enthroned in Hi» 
 mediatorial majesty, surrounded by His ransomed ones, the 
 trophies of His cross, the monuments of His matchless love ; 
 and to them He manifests Himself, and reveals the glorie» 
 of the eternal Godhead, in a manner very difierent from, 
 and vastly superior to, anything that they realized in the 
 present world. When they were here, many elements of 
 imperfection mingled witti their purest and loftiest con- 
 ceptions. They had but partial discoveries made to them, 
 and these were made through inadequate mediums, and to 
 limited .capacities. There, more direct and more ample 
 revelations are i^iade, and their capacities are wonderfully 
 
-y^ 
 
 enrlaiged to receive tihem. They no longer see as " through 
 a glas9 darkly," but " face to fiice." Their knowledge no 
 longer resembles the. faint and indistinct reiAeclioni^ of an 
 obscure mirror, but the clearness, and certainty, and satis- ^ 
 faction with which we look upon a beautiful olgecty-otiatpj-rJ 
 the countenance of a beloved friend. They need not tbe^ 
 written word, with its sensible analogies^ or the sacramen- 
 tal service, with its material emblems, for, they see the Sa- 
 viour '^as He is." "With undimmed eyes, they behold the 
 wondrous glories of His nature, and the sublime mysteries 
 of His redemption as they are unveiled in the light of 
 heaven..' ■". ^'.■■'-:'-. -l :yy'- :-'/■■■■". :C. '■" '"'■ 
 
 Paiil longed for these celestial revelations, for that 
 more perfect knowledge. He compared his thoughts and 
 utteruices here, to those of childhood, and eagerly looked 
 forward to a time when he should put away childi«h things, 
 and when, having reached' the manhood of hiis spiritual 
 being, he should pursue his inquiries into the deep things of 
 6od with maturer faculties, with unrestricted freedom, and 
 amidst the plenitude of heavenly inspirations. His largest 
 attainments in this world, even as the ri^sults of divine 
 inspiration, were not worthy to be coiinpaibd with those 
 marvetldus discoveries tihiat have flashed upon his spirit, 
 aiwi those lofty heights of intelligence ta which he has risen 
 iitthe^pregence^^QfJ^hrist Those dite 
 
 \'; 
 
 excellence, which are suited to the celestial sanctuary, and 
 which f»tonish and delight the glorified, would be'over- 
 povv4ing to our faculties in this state of imperfection, and 
 incompatible with the duties and interests 'of life. With / 
 those dazzling glories before his eyes, theGhristian woulij^ 
 be blinded to the objects of earth, and totally unfitted t6 
 bear its burdens. In respect to knowledge, it will be an 
 immense advantage for him "todeiMirtand'be with Chrisfc" 
 It will be to pass from gloomy shades into the light of 
 
 /.; 
 
 /' 
 
^jlpW^' 
 
 25 
 
 'l}> 
 
 perf^t day. The change may be compared to that which 
 the traveller sometimes experiences. He ascends to the 
 suminit of « l(^y mountain, situated in the midst of a 
 richly diversified and beautiful country, but is disappointed 
 by findit^g himself encompassed about with thick mists 
 and clouds, so that his vision is cdnfined within a narrow 
 circle, and all the surrounding scenery shut out from Ids 
 view. But he patiently uraits, hoping that ere long these 
 obstructions will pass away, and the beauties and varieties 
 of the panorama beneath him be clearly revealed. At 
 length the vapors begin to dissolve, and the clouds to open 
 in various directions, disclosing lake after lake, valley rater 
 valley, mountain after moun&in, iintil the whole scene, 
 with all its amplitude and grandeur, is spread out before 
 his delighted eyes. /; . ^ t / : , .; 
 
 I The mists and clouds of time now surround the be- 
 iieyer, and the sphere of his vision is very circumscribed. 
 He sees only a few objects, and these are seen but dimly. 
 But when the hour of his departure sliall come, the reful- 
 gent light of eternity will break upon him, Revealing a 
 thousand hidden glories, and raising, him; to a degree of 
 illumination and excellence sUch a» human inu^nation 
 nev^r; conceived. He now believes in the tnuoscendant 
 glory of his IMvine Saviour, but he will itken/Uhold it. 
 The ideas we obtSAii of illustrious personages and miagnifi- 
 cent scenes from mere descriptions, however accurate and 
 eloquent th<we d^mptions may be, ore vogue and feeble 
 compared with those which we derive from actual view. 
 Hie Queen of Sl^ba had heard of the wisdom and glory of 
 Solomon, but when i^ went and actually looked upon his 
 splendor, and listened to lus discourse, she was overpow- 
 ered witb wonder, and acknowledged tiiat the half liad not 
 been told her. And so, the best conceptions that we can 
 now form pf the invisible Bedeemer, are extremely poor. 
 
;V 
 
 •^ 
 
 
 V 
 
 "■ '\- 
 
 V- 
 
 ■ ^aK ■ • - ■■■'■■ ■ ■ ■'" - ■ ' ' ■ ■■ -■ . 
 
 coinpared with thope which Wiesliali have of iHiin whea 
 we hehold His glory. - 
 
 (2.) It will he " for hette^ to he with Christ, hecivM 
 then the Boul will be more perfectly aMimikted to His 
 image. ■ * 
 
 There the believer will be like the object of his love ; 
 
 ' he wiU reflect the 'glory which he admires ; he will be pei^ 
 i^t in Christ Jesus/ To he like the blessed Saviour #iU / 
 
 ' be Uie primary element iii the felicity of heaven, the crown* 
 ing IB^ory of the saints in light , : In this ^ Christian will 
 realize the end of his fedth, the glorious object of his hope, 
 the prijge of his h%h calling, the final .ansirer to his un- \ 
 ceasing prayerif, and the fulT recompense of all his toils and : 
 struggles. ** Holiness tp the 'ijoit^\ will be written in let^ 
 ters of immortal l^ht and beauty on all his faculties and 
 affections, on all his son^Qs and sravices, on aU hisj'oyS and 
 aspirations. M'oll may he sing in blissful anticipation : 
 
 * "0 gloriofiu hour^ O Uew'd lAbde t 
 
 r' I ihftU be neSiv unl like my God ; ' V 
 
 AiidflediaiidbkiO|dno Aorecontrcl , .. \ 
 
 %« TlwiBacredpleMniMSQfmy souL" , ; v - 
 
 ' (3.) The Apostle desired to depart, that he might have 
 a more intimate fellowship wi^ Christ. 
 
 Hire, " Clnrist was formed in his heart by faith," and 
 ho rejoiced in Him as "the hope pf glory ; but i;n lieaven 
 there will be a moire distinct recognition of Him, a cloa$r << 
 conununion with Hiln, and a fuller realisation of HiiBLXp^i^>», 
 The visions of faith are <8uffioieilt to thrill the soul with 
 admiration, and to fill ^e heart with a joy .unspcMkaUe, 
 and full of glory \ hut iuiel<Mided sight wUt be ^*far better." 
 The anticimtions of Ik^ are invigorating and refirediing * 
 to the spirit^ but the {Measures, ti possessioii will be "far 
 better.^' It is sweet to hold intereonrs^wi^th distant iriimds 
 th r ough the medium of correspondenee, but it is^tter to 
 
 ■'■'■: ■!■' 
 
 y* 
 
• . ■ I 37 ■;:■:■::■•• 
 
 be with them, to look into their radiant countenancesi and . 
 to listen to the music of their voice; and so it is delightful' 
 
 y>> -* to hold feUo#ahip with a loving Saviour through the me- 
 dium of His word and ordinances ; but it will be infinitely 
 * ^ better to see His fiu^, to hear His majestic voice, and to 
 «have,umntem]pted commimion with Him in heaven. No : 
 tongue can tell, no imagination can conceive, the raptuie 
 of the glorified spirit fts'it realises all that is meant in 
 those pregnant words, ^* The Lamb which is in the miidst 
 of the throne shall feed them, and. shall lead them unto 
 living fountains of waters." II' 
 
 '.^ (4.) ]ju the presence of Christ, the soul will be free 
 fir^m all the temptations and perils of its spiritual warfare. 
 ^' In this life it has to be furnished with military armour, 
 having to contend against "|Hincipalities and poweils, and 
 / the ruters of the darkness of this World, and spiritual 
 wickedness in hi^h phuies.'* In its most sacred ex- 
 ercises^ in its holiest comniunings, in ito nearest approaches 
 to God, it is liable to the intrusion of " the old serpent," 
 and to the assaults of hellish hosts. Its connection with 
 the flesh in its fallen state, is often the cause of temptation 
 and a, source of dangcir. Fleshly lusts war a^iiist the 
 souL Sensual appetites and passiotts clamour for supre- 
 mooy. The world is in direct antagonism to all who will 
 live godly in Christ Jesus ; and it is difficult to say whether 
 . it is rendered more dangerous by its'smiles and blandish- 
 ments, or by its frowns and terrors. At every stage, and 
 in every situation, of his eartlily existence^ the Christian is 
 surrounded with perils. The buoyancy of youth, the v^ur 
 of manhood, and the infirmities of age, all have their ten- 
 dencies to eviL Health has its ensnaring suggestions, and 
 sickness its depressing power ; prosperity has its beguile- 
 mentSj and adv^ity its snares. But whMi the spirit 
 
 shall enter into the presence of Christ, its probation will 
 
v.. 
 
 , be passed, its warfare will be accomplished, its sanctincib* 
 tioQ^ll be complete, and its declension will be impossible. 
 The shout (^d iitrife of buttle will be exchanged for the 
 song of peace and triumph. Released from the burden of 
 the flesh, rescued from the dangers of the world, and raised 
 beyond the reach of satanic influence^ the spirit will expa- 
 tiate in the perfect freedom and inviolable security of A 
 nature holy and incorruptible. ^ 
 
 ' * 2nd.— 'lVe have next to eonnde)\the state 0/ mind qf 
 
 which the Apostle* sde»irei»tndiealiv^. • 
 
 (1.) It supposes a preparedness of spirit to be with > 
 Christ. That fervent love which constrained the Apostle 
 to labor and Buffer for the glory of Christ on earth, consti- 
 tuted hia fitnetss for the presence and fellowship of Christ 
 
 *ir in heaven. W6 cmi truly wish to be with the Saviour 
 
 only when we truly love Him. As we rise in His imi^, 
 oui denre to be with Him will proportionately increase; 
 and as His service on earth becomes more interesting to us, 
 Hiij presence in heaven will become more attractive. ; H >' 
 the believer were suddenly transported from earth ta 
 heaven, he would have within him those principles and 
 affections that would render the presence of a holy Saviour 
 most' welcome, and His service a source of ever-growing 
 delight. Here, thtri, is' a sure test of character. Without 
 that love to Christ that longs to be vrith Him, we can have 
 no hope, A mere willingness to cUe is no proof of pre- 
 paration. It may spring from various causes. The ch 
 ■ J repining ben^th his lot; the mortilfted victim of disap- 
 pointed ambition ; the exhausted votaryl of the world* 
 whoeiiB sensibilities are deadened, and whose spirits have 
 sui^ into incurable dejection and despondency ; and the 
 man bowed down under the accumulated infirmities of age, 
 may be willing to die, without duly estimating thp conse- 
 
 ■ / 
 
 quences of death. But it was for none of these reasons 
 
that Paul desired to depart. He watf in the fulness of hifr 
 strength, and life was never more precious to him. H(» 
 would not have changed his position for one of imperial 
 wealth and grandeur. But he desired to depart because 
 the object of his mpreme affection was in heaven. There 
 was his Saviour, there his crown of righteousness, and 
 there his eternal home. v, 
 
 (2.) His desire demonst^tes s noble superiority to the^ 
 fear of death. 
 
 The dread of death, as a natural evil, must be as uni- 
 versal as the love of life ; it is the common, instinctive 
 recoil of humanity from that which breaks endearing iv^y 
 and brings along with ifr bodily suffering. 
 
 " Who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 
 , This pleasing, anxious being e'er regJIgned, 
 , Left the warm precincts of the cheerftilday, 
 y^ . Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind T" 
 
 •^ But there is fuiother fear of death by which «mou are- 
 held in bondi^. The unpardoned sinner trembles at the 
 thought of death, not so much on account of its pains and 
 privations, as from the awful fact that it will introduce his 
 soul into a world of endldss retribution. The judgment 
 that' follows death, awakens those gloomy forebodings, 
 those distressing apprehensions, which invest this "King 
 of terrors " with his most hideous aspect, and arm him 
 with his most envenomed sting. Nature knows not how 
 to repress or assuage these appaling fears. But religion. 
 brii^Jt complete deliverance. Pai4 Vmrerj to depart. 
 He was' npl only free firom fear, but full of hope. Be- 
 liold the last enemy vanquished I See the Cluristian hero 
 crowned witii laurels ! listen to the exultant exclama- 
 tions ; " To die is gain 1" "Thanks be unto God who- 
 givetfi lis the victory through our J!i0rd Jesus Christ." 
 
 fv:- 
 
 See, my Christian friends, what ip your privilege. You. 
 
■•iT'-'^^pl^ 
 
 * 
 
 
 80 
 
 .. ;,f. 
 
 may look forwani to tho hour of your departure, hot only 
 without dread, but with holy desire ^d heavenly joy* 
 Nothing c^ bto, more inconsistent than for ^ the heir of 
 heaven to live /in bondage through fear ' of death. Does 
 the way'Wom, meaxy pilgrim dread the hour that will ter- 
 minate his pilgrimage, with all its privations and perils! 
 Does the soldier, anii<lst the din and danger of the conflict, 
 dread the hour when victory will smile upon his arms, 
 and the horrid noise of battle be followed by the sweet 
 song of peace 1 Does the mariner, under darkening skies 
 and amidst. roaring tempests, dreail the hour when the. 
 wild tumult ot wind and wave, and all the dangers of the 
 deep, will be exchanged for the salutations of friends 
 on his native shore and the fond endearments of his distant 
 home 1 WHy, then, should the Christian .dread the hour 
 when, as a pil|yprim, he will reach his Father's house ; 
 wheii, as a storm-tossed mariner,' he will come to his de- 
 sired haven ; when as a warrior, he will put off his ar* ^ 
 notour and put on his crown 9 Let us endeavour to realize ' 
 the change that awaits us. How amaring, and how glo- 
 rious the transition of that moment when thesuul becomes , 
 "absent from the body and present with the Lord T' 
 There lies the Christian ou the bed of death, the subject of 
 humiliation, weakness, and pain ; and the object of com- 
 miseration and pity; but the time of his departure comes, 
 and froiii that wasted, agonjjzed, dying body, there arises 
 a deathless spirit, robed in Goieipel righteousness and made 
 ready for the "marriage supper of the Lamb I" The dark 
 valley of death is at once exohanged for the shining montit 
 of God. As earthly scenes fade from the bodily eyes and 
 earthly sounds die on the bodily ears, heaven's glories 
 burst upon the vision, and heaven's music breaks upon 
 the ears of the triumphant spirit r The Itot faint whis- 
 
 pers of the soul's undying affection, and tiie final adieus 
 
 '%■. 
 
of MloTed oiiea oii oairtti, Ar6 Immotliatoly followed by the 
 coRgratuIationa of the glorifto<l, ami the jubilant aongs o^ 
 heaven. The departing aoul has no sooner breathed forth 
 the prayer^ ♦*Come Lord Jesus," than it hears the wiBlcomo 
 words, ".£i|^r thou into the Joy of thy Lord." 
 
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