3tlm l[nh btui-th    hi-tion.
THE
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION;
ORn,
AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL DISCUSSION
OF THE QUJESTION,
WILL WE KNOW OUR FRIENDS IN HEAVEN?
"'_-BY
REV. It  [ HARBAUGH, A.M.
AUTHOR OF "HEAVEN; OR, THE SXINTED DEAD."
She goeth unto the grave to weep there.
Joux xl. aL
lifttt l it i
PHILADELPHIA:
LINDSAY& BLAKISTON.
1861.
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Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by
REV. 1I. IIARBAUG Ht,
in tbu O;ce of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States
:. in and for the Eastern Distr.et of Pennsylvania.
8TEREOTYPgD BY J. FAGAN.                       PRITLD BY C. SHERMA 
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2 
PREFACE
TO
THE REVISED EI)TION.
THE iiinth edition of the " HEAVENLY RECOGNITION" being called for, we have, with great care,
given the work a thorough revision, and now
again send it forth to the public, free from a few
verbal and typographical errors which occurred in
the former editions.
We humbly acknowledge God's goodness in
giving it so much favor with Christians of all denominations, in our native land as well as in England; and also for the assurance we have received
from Christian friends that the work has been a
source of light and consolation to many bereaved
hearts.
LANCASTER, September, 1855.
(iv) 
;:,. Z
My  fx,   tf
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PREFACE.
OuR friends in Heaven-shall we see and know them again?
This is my theme. I have written this book because I love
the subject of which it treats.  It was, therefore, not a toil,
but a pleasure. It was in my heart before it was in my mind;
and it grew up there like a flower, living and fragrant, to my
own soul. If life, warmth, and tenderness do not now glow
upon its leaves, it is because the mind has spoiled the image
in transferring the impression. What a pity, we are sometimes tempted to say, that it is so hard to make a picture for
others of what we ourselves see and feel! I have done as we(ll
as I could.
Three years ago, the Author published a work entitled:
"Heaven;  or, An Earnest and Scriptural Inquiry into the
Abode of the Sainted Dead." While writing that book, tho
thought of writing this gradually waked up in my mind:
hence, at the close of that book occurs the following passage:
"Here I lay down my pen, but here do I not end my meditations on the heavenly land.  My thoughts, and feelings, and
hopes, crowd onward still."  That may be taken as a promise
or prophecy of what is here fulfilled. Here, accordingly, we
~~~~~~~~~~1 *      ~(v) 
PREFACE.
offer the firuits of three years' farther meditation on the heavenly
world.   We feel thie more encouragement in offering this addition,d contribution to this department of pious inquiry,
because it is one of those peaceful themes which, even in the
present distracted and divided state of the church, is not likely
to excite any sectional jealousies.   In the hope of another and
a better life, we are all one.
The Author believes that human nature generally, and particularly in this age, is too prone to disjoin the material and
spiritual, the finite and infinite, the temporal and eternal, and,
consequently, also the kingdom on earth and the kingdom in
heaven.   God, in the Incarnation of his Son, has for ever
united these, and brought them into living and loving sympathy
with each other. Tinme and space are annihilated in "Jesus
Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."   In
Him we are raised above the ruins of the Past- above the
changes of the Present -and above the fears of the Future.
In proportion as we rise, by faith in Him, above all frag.
mentary and sectional ideas into commiunion with the general,
the catholic, the infinite, and the absolute-in that proportion
will we escape the downward tendencies towards the sordid
regions of sense, and the more refined but chilling abstractions
of Rationalism, both in its spiritualistic and materialistic extremes. God has made the heavens above us higher, broader,
deeper, and more magnificent than the earth, that we might be
overawed by them; and he has made them more bright and
beautiful than the earth, that they might allure us. MIorally,
as well as physically, God has hung the earth fast to the hea vens, and controls it by a law of gravitation whose  centre is
VI 
PREFACE.
there; and hereby He would shadow forth to us the truth,
that our spirits, in all their affections, should hinge and turn
upon the high, the infinite, the heavenly.  Our proper position
therefore is, to stand like the high-priest before the altar, and,
in devout reverence and worship, to stretch forth our hands
towards the heavens, while our hearts also rise thitherward in
humble but earnest hope and love.   We must embrace the
infinite and heavenly, in all its forms, if we would be devout.
We, therefore, firmly believe that our hearts will become
better by being filled with heavenly thoughts.   This can be
done by sitting together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus,
and meditating upon the eternal inheritance which He has in
reserve for us. The reader will discover how much Christ is
made the centre and substance of this book; and how the hope
of our eternal union with our sainted friends is ultimately resolved into our union with Him. This is a feature in this
doctrine of future recognition-and the most important onewhich we have not been able to discover in all that we have
found written on this subject, in any degree of prominence.
We believe that this is the real basis of the doctrine, which
serves to make all other arguments in its fi.vor consistent and
living.  To this feature, and to the historical manner in which
we have treated the subject, we respectfully invite the reader's
special attention, as being, in our estimation, of the greatest
inmportance.
We have carefully studied all we could find on this interest.
ing subject, and acknowledge ourselves more or less indebted
to those from whom we occasionally quote, and whose names
vii 
PREFACE.
are generally referred to, or placed in the margin.   We have
aimed at making this a full discussion of the subject; and
have therefore pursued it, so far as we could find any light to
lead us, into all its details. This has enlarged the book, but
it will hardly be considered a fault. We have not consciously
admitted any thing irrelevant.
It will be seen, we hope, on every page that we have not
followed the subject as one merely of vain curiosity, but with
a sincere desire also that it might produce its practical fruits.
We have been anxious that it should not only afford consolation, but also make the heart better. We have endeavored to
keep prominently before the mind of the reader the solemn
fact that the heavenly society of which this book treats it may
never be his happiness to enjoy, - that the only ground upon
which he can safely rest his hope of reunion in heaven with
his sainted friends is his own personal union on earth with
Him  "of whom  the whole family in heaven and earth is
named."
Standing in the deepest reverence of soul before the solemn
mysteries of that holy world into which this book presumes to
cast an humble look, and in the name of our adorable Saviour,
I lay this offering at His sacred feet.   May He pardon what
is wrong, and bless what is good, to the consolation of the
saints, and to the advancement Qf His own great Kingdom of
Eternal Love.
LTACaCSTER; Sept. 8, 1851.
viii 
CON T ENTS.
CHIAPTER I.
THE SAINTED DEAD.
Introductory reflections...........................Page 17
CHAPTER II.
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG PAGANS.
Pagan ideas of a future life. The earnest expectation of
the creature. Why this chapter is introduced. The idea
of future recognition in Homer's poems.  The ideas of
Socrates. Beautiful quotation. The heathen commit
suicide in sorrow that they may meet their friends sooner
in the future life. Widows burning themselves on the
funeral pyres of their husbands. Sacrificing human
beings as attendants at the death of kings and chiefs.
Sending messages with the dead - the Gymnosophists.
The idea of future recognition among Roman philoso phers.  Cicero-extract.  Virgil.  Modern pagans.  Ex tract from Dr. Leland. The Indians of America. Slaves
from  Africa.   Sighings  and  sorrowings.   Comforts.
Friendships.  Skeptics.  Live and love.  No tears for the
dead............................................
(ix)
24 
CONTENTS.
CIIAPTER III.
T'HE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION A UNIVERSAL BELIEF',
HOPE, AND DESIRE.
Tlis faith is universal. So is the desire. All universal
ideas are true. This is proved from the idea of the exist  ence of a God- the soul's immortality - sacrifice and
atonement.   Fragments prove a whole.  Reason never
reaches the universal.  IIumanity is no lie.  The idea of
future recognition spontaneous.  Farther deductions and
proofs from its universality. I. This idea growvs with
Christianity. II. It grovws in each heart with grace.
III. It is more firmly held by saints than by sinners.
IV. It is most active in the deepest sorrow.  Universal
desire is also a proof of its truth in the same way. Prac  tical observations. The human race a brotherhood. The
world is not all fra,gments.  The kingdom of the dead a
catholic kingdom.  Ihuman  tears promote  fellowship.
Love for the dead.  Communion with them............
CIhAPTER IV.
TIIE HEAVENLY RECOGNI'I'ION IN THE LIGHT ()F
REASON.
The dead before the resurrection. No separate discussion
necessary.  Why?  Spiritual peculiarities by which recog  nition can take place. Spirits not human do know each
other. The scriptures make no difference. Will recog nition take place on sigh7t, or gradually? Exhibitions of
both. Why is this doctrine reasonable. I. The same
means which will enable us to identify ourselves will also
enable us to recognize our friends. II. Memory will
continue in the future life. III. The social law lies
deeply and radically imbedded in our nature.  IV. Some
interruptions by death, which seem, in the nature of
things, to require completion in a future life. V. The
final Judgment inyolves details which show that recogni
x
46 
CONTENTS.
tion is reasonable and natural. VI. Our knowledge,
in the future life, will be enlarged in general and in particular. VII. The interest which heavenly beings take
in the affairs of saints on earth induces us to believe the
idea of future recognition reasonable. A pleasant con
clusion........................................... 66
CIIAPTER V.
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG THE JEWS.
The Jewish twilight.  Progress in this doctrine.  The Jews
knew of a future life. They believed in future recogni  tion. Proofs. I. The care and affection with which they
disposed of the bodies of their dead points to the hope
and belief in future reunion. II. Their strong desire to
be buried wvithl their kindred.  III. The manner in which
they spake of their dead, as "gathered to their people."
IV. This doctrine is seen in some examples of pure and
disinterested friendship. V. This doctrine is seen in the
conduct of David at the death of his child, and the way
he consoled himself. VI. This doctrine appears also in
later prophets.  This faith among the Jews was implicit.
CHAPTER VI.
THIE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION IN THE TEACHINGS
OF CHRIST.
The object of Christ's mission into the world. Ile spake
incidentally of heaven. The doctrine of heavenly recog  nition in hints and allusions. Proofs. I. This doctrine
is involved in the nature of that kingdom which Christ
established on earth, and which is to continue in heaven.
II. We',-, this doctrine in what Christ says of heaven as
thie home of the saints. III. We find this doctrine in the
Saviour's representations of the final Judgment. IV. This
doctrine appears in several passages of the Saviour's
teachings. We first feel it true, and then know it. Con  elusion. Poetry by Bp. Mant....................... 116
xi
85 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG THE
APOSTLES.
The Apostles' ideas of another life - of the kingdom of
Christ- of our union with each other in this kingdom  of the identity of the Church on earth and in heaven.
Hints and allusions. They expected to present their con  verts in the day of Christ's coming. The pastor's joy,
hope, and crown in heaven. Those asleep in Jesus-true
consolation in regard to them. A look into heaven from
Patmos, and sights which were seen. Charity never fail  eth. Holy love, and mere passion. A beautiful poem by
Southey.  Light from a happy land..................  142
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG THE CHRIS.
TIAN FATHERS.
Why we desire to know their sentiments. The affection
they showed towards their pious dead. They visit the
place where they are buried. Their desire for martyr  dom. Their horror at the Roman practice of burning the
bodies of the dead. The affecting burial of Cyprian by
his flock. They associated the remembrance of the dead
with their religious services. They buried them around
the church. They celebrated the anniversary of their
death upon the graveyards. Partook of the communion
in token of an unbroken union with them. Quotation
from Neander.  Cyprian consoling his flock.  Drawing
near to the dead in love. Heavenly attractions- an ex  tract. St. Ambrose. Venerable and anointed ideas.... 159
.i 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IX.
TIlE HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG TIIEOLO.
GIANS.
The value of this kind of testimony.  No new or strange
idea.  Its catholicity.  A clear and fresh stream ami(ng
fragments......................................... 170
SECTION I.-ARGUIMENTATIVE EXTRACTS.
Dr. Martin Luther.  MIelanethon.  Cruciger.  Olevianus.
Scaliger.  Calvin.  Thomas Bacon.  Arch. Wm. Paley.
Rcv. Charles Drelincourt. Rev. Dr. Edwards. Rev. Dr.
George Christian Knapp. Rev. John Dick, D. D. Rev.
Bp). George Burgess. - Rev. William Jay. Rev. J. WAV. Nevin,
D. D.............................................. 172
SECTION II.-ALLUSIONS TO THIS IDEA, TAKING IT FOR GR.ANTED.
Rev. Dr. John Tillotston.  Rev. Richard Baxter.  Bishop
Ilall.  Dr. Doddridge.  Mclvill.  Rev. Dr. J. F. Berg...  183
SECTION III.-CONSOLATORY EXTRACTS.
Ulrich Zwinglius.  Bunyan.  Rev. William Dodd, D. D.
George Ilerbert. Dr. P. Doddridge. Lavel. Dr. Thomas
Chalmers.  Rev. John Newton.  Fenelon.  Rev. John
James, D. D.  Rev. Thomas Smyth, D. D.  Rev. S. S.
Sclnimucker, D. D................................... 187
CIIAPTER X.
THIE HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION AMONG THE POET..
Orplheus.  The power of music and poetry.  A still sweeter
charminer. Tlhe true end of poetry.................... 195
I
xiii 
CONTENTS.
SECTION I.-ARGUMENTATIVE POETRY.
Recogniition in IIeaven. Heavenly Recognition. The Draw ings of the Dead.  The Indian Mother.  Love.  Know ledge of each other in Heaven. Not lost, but gone before 197
SECTION II.-INCIDENTAL ALLUSIONS.
IH,w easily the heart slides into this idea.  How extensively
it is taken for granted. Something for mothers alone.
The dead will receive us into heaven. The strongest de  sire of bereaved hearts. The love of sisters. Proverbial
poetry. The heavenly meeting. A secret which all can  not possess. An increasing treasure. A treasure removed,
but not lost.  A Mother's Lament.   Departed friends.
Visions by starlight. IIeber's portrait. A mother's pic  ture in the parlor. The Dying Child................. 23
SECTION III. —CONSOLATORY POETRY.
Tie vein which poets follow. The idea on which they end.
Leaving ninety and nine, and seeking one that is lost.
Sorrow makes us dull. The poet a confidential friend.
They speak in us. Reunion above. Rev. Charles Wesley.
Sorrow with hope. The babe that only sleeps. A thought
for an unconverted person. My Boy. Not lost, but gone
before. Treasures in the arms of Christ. Dreams of
Heaven. The Burial of an Emigrant's Child. Weep not
for her. Something for social singing circles. Reunion
above. A beautiful vision through a tear. Kiss the
hiand that wounds you. Unwritten poetry. Sarah B.
Judson-a "green islet" in the ocean, and a grave on it.
A ray in deep darkness.............................   212
xiv 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
OBJECTIONS TO THE DOCTRINE OF hEAVENLY
RECOGNITION.
Introductory remarks................................ 231
OBJ. I.-The great change which will take place in death.. 233
OBJ. II.-If it were true, it would be more clearly revealed. 239
OBJ. III.-The heavenly life will be much higher than this. 241
OBJ. IV.-It will introduce partiality into heaven........    242
OBJ. V.-The love of Christ will occupy us entirely.......  244
OnJ. VI.-Christ's answer to the Sadducees.............    246
CIIAPTER XII.
ANOTHER OBJECTION TO THE DOCTRINE OF
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
THE KNOWLEDGE OF OUR LOST FRIENDS WOULD GIVE US PAIN.
This objection appeals il,')re to the feeling than to the judg  ment. It can be satisfactorily answered. Various con  siderations. I. In death all ties that are not sanctified by
the life and power of grace must be dropped and left
behind. II. Those that are lost will gradually fade from
our remembrance. III. There may be room for some
uncertainty as to whether they are lost or not. IV. We
have positive evidence that a knowledge of beings lost,
who were once objects of affection, is not incompatible
with heavenly felicity.  The case of Christ- of angels.
V. Our will will be entirely conformed to God's will. In  stances as illustrations.  Poetry...................... 253
xv 
CONTENTS.
CIIAPTER XIII.
TIlE DOCTRINE OF hEAVENLY RECOGNITION IN
ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
"What good?" The tendency of error - of truth. The
Saviour's rule.  The belief in this doctrine exerts a good
influence. I. It elevates, strengthens, and purifies all our
earthly affections. II. It will induce us to form only
pious friendships.  III. It will bring us strongly under
the power of heavenly realities and attractions. IV. It
presents a strong and touching motive to piety. V. It is
consoling to the pious under bereavements.  The end... 273
xvi 
TIlE
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
CHAPTER I.
1     1rlj Itt       tt.
Mly mother! when I learned that thou wast dead,
Say, wast thlou conscious of the tears I shed t.
Hover'd thy spirit o'er thly sorrowing son,
WVretchl even then, life's journey just begun!
Perhaps thou gav'st me, thoulgh unfelt, a Iiss;
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in blissAhl, that maternal smile! it answers -yes
I heard the bell toll'd on the burial day,
I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away,
And, turning from my nurs'ry window, drew
A long, long siigh, and wept a last adieu!
But was it such?-It was. -l Where thou art golne,
Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.
May I but meet thee on that peaceful shlore,
The parting word shall pass my lips no l)orP!
COVI'ER.
TIIE Sainted Dead! they are our treasures!  Like
the inheritance upon which they have entered, they arto
incorruptible, undefiled, and they fade not awav, but
are reserved in Ileaven.
IIo! ye that would be rich - ye that seek for trea
lures —seek them not on earth.  Eirthl yields only
2*                                   (17)
_ws N w~~ 
TIIE IIEAVENLY RECOGNLTION.
that which is mortal and perishable.  That vwhich dies
seeks the earth, not that which lives.  "Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust."  This our fathers havec
repeated, and this they have experienced.  They (ldie
quickly, the flowers of earth.  It rusts soon, the goldt
of earth. They fade surely, the gems of earth. They
must perish, the foundations of earth-if not before,
in the flames of the last fire.  Ho! ye that seek for
treasures: they are our treasures-living treasuresthe Saintedl Dead.
Let us look upward.   That is the destiny of spirits.
It is the earth which wlhirls and moves; the heavens
stand permanent  andtl sure.  WVhile the earth grows
hoary with age,  vhlile empires fall and nations (lie,
while the habitations of the dead are becoming more
than habitations of the living, while all things around
us change and fade, the heavens still look down serene
as of old upon this changing and restless earth.  The
stars which wink to us  a loving  " upward("- how
changeless!  They are the same which Abraham and
Job saw, and which, ages ago,
"Gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they poured
Themselves in orisons."
So calm, changeless, cheering, and loving, are the saints
in light.  Not likle the false, fading glare of earthly
treasures, is their pure and imperishablec radiance; for
they'"sline as the brightness of the firmament, and
as the stars for ever and ever."   Tliev arc our treasures-changeless and shining treasures- the Sainted
Dead.
18 
TJIE SAINTED DEAD.
Let us look up hopefully.   "Not lost, but gone be fore."  Lost only like the stars of morning that have
fadled into the light of a bri,ghter heaven.   Lost to
earth, but not to us.   When  the earth is dark, then
the heavens are bright.   When objects around us Lc come indistinct and invisible in the shades of night,
then objects above us are more clearly seen.   So is the
night of sorrow and mourning; it settles down upon
us like a lonely twvilight at the grave of our fiiiien(ls;
but then already they shine on high.  WVhilc we wveep,
they siingi,!  While they are with us upon  earth, they
lie upon our hearts refreshingly, like the dew upon
flowers; when they disappear, it is by a power from
above that has drawn them upward, and, thoi,ugh lost
on the earth, they still float in the skies.  Like the
dew that is absorbed from the flowers, tlhey will not
return to us; but, like the flowers theimselvecs, we will
die, yet only to bloom again in the Eden above.  Then
those whom the heavens have absorbed, and removed
from us, by the sweet attraction of their love, made
holier and lovelier in light, will draw toward us again
by a holy affinity, and rest on our hearts as before.
They are our treasures-loving treasures-the Sainted
Dead.
Let us look up joyfully.   Love is eternal.   When
the light and smiles of earthly love seem to poerishl in
the girave, then it is nighlt on earth and gloomy.   " The
setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun.
']lThe brightnless of our life is gone.   Shladows of evening fall around us, and the world seems  but a dim
reflection-itself a broader shadow. We look fo-rwaidinto the coming lonelvy nighlt.  The soul withldraws into
19 
20         TIIE IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
itself. Then the stars arise, and the night is holy!"
All is yet not dark. Heaven kindles anew, across the
sea of space, beacons of hope and promise. Though
the flowers of love die in our hearts, they lose not their
fragrance.   The looks, the forms, the voices, the smiles
of the dead are still with us.  We feel their mysterious
nearness.   The remembrance of their kindness  and
love still teaches us to love them.
Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled -
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will;
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still!
Their names are still to us " like ointment poured
forth," the odor of which comes to us richest in our
loneliest hours.  Their image, lovely as the purest
thoughts we can form of them, floats before our waking
visions, and smiles upon us in the dreams of the nighlt.
Being themselves holy, the light of our love falling
upon them becomes holy too. The heart gradually
becomes like that which it loves. Purer than we are,
our affections are purified by the power of their attractions, as the sides of all objects grow bright that are
turned towards the sun.  These are our treasuresholy treasures-the Sainted Dead.
Let us look up longingly.  Where our treasures are.
there let our hearts be also.  The heart of the miser is
with his gold. The eye of the merchant follows his
freighted vessel till it disappears in the dim, distant
blue; then lookls often into the vacant air that hangs
over the broad sea, for its return, till he sees at last its
hopeful pennants streaming; and as it draws nce.ei-, 
TIIE SAIN'TE)D DEAD.
his heart grows  fuller of grateful wonderment  and
hope. Now this they do for perishable gain. Let us
do the same, yea more, for that which perishes not.  If
earthly treasures draw the heart so strongly, ought not
heavenly treasures more? Yea, but our hearts are so
gross and grovelling, and feel so little the sweet attraction of the infinite and the pure.   Let us long after
them more ardently, our treasures - attractive treasures-the Sainted Dead.
Let us look up lovingly. Love is stronger than all
ills, and will crowd itself even through  death.  Love
seeks and finds its object-dies, and yet dies not, in
the pursuit.   Under its guidance, we shall find the
objects of our affections; for it knows the hoimeward
way.   Come, ye living! let us sit together under the
moaning but ever-green cypress, and commune with
the departed.   Let us drive from our hearts Cmsar's
money-changers, and escape for a moment from the
world's benumbing rattle.  Let us draw softly down
into the quiet border-land along the valley of the shadow of death.   We  will listen intently.  The softest
notes that float to our ears across the almost breathless
solitude, shall tell us hopeful tales of a better land, and
of those who dwell in it.  We will cry earnestly into
the hollow silence which so holds the lip of death's
Lethean Jordan, as to allow it scarce a whisper of sorr()w or joy.   The earnestness of our voice will bring
back  tidings to the ear of  faith.   We  will  seek
tltem, our treasures-eternal treasures- the Sainte,l
I Dead.
Will we see them again?-know them  again?-love
21 
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
them  again? - the  Sainted Dead.   This would we
know? We will institute, humbly but earnestly, our
questionings.
As "the deepest lore is the most universal," we will
pass along the cool sequestered vale of common life,
and listen to the deep longings and hopes of those who
live and love
"In the low huts of them that toil and groan."
We will ask the mysterious prophetic -Nohings that
come to us out of the Pagan gloom. We will seek for
dawnings of hope in the Jewish twilight.  We will
look for clearer light in the Gospel dawn-lIe who
brought immortality to light will teach us. We will
draw nigh to the Apostles when they speak words of
comfort to bereaved hearts- some fragments that
prove the existence of a loaf shall be ours. The early
Christians, whose hearts were still warmn from the
words of inspired lips, shall make us wise by holy tradition. T.he wise of after ages, whose minds were
clearest because their hearts were purest, shall utter to
us right things on this interesting subject. We will sit
at the feet of the poets, who are "the interpreters of
the human heart-the expounders of its mysteries,"
and who have an utterance given them that is denied
to others; they will not send us empty away.
In all these researches, we cannot fail to gather
some rays of sacred wisdom, to shine away the sorrow
of bereaved hearts, and much of the gloom of death.
Voices, though feeble, and unheard by the dull ear of
worldlings, yet comforting as sweet songs of promise,
22 
TIIE SAINTED DEAD.
shall answer to our questionings. They will whisper
soothingly to us: You shall find them-know themlove them - your fadeless treasures - the Sainted
Dead.
Is your heart sad?  Do your lips tremble?  Are
your eyes wet? Then read on in the next chapter,
"Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted."
23 
TIIE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
CHAPTER II.
tI,Jt!if rll         tfl rngnitiun aItllung  [JaganuB
WVho would not part wiv;th a great deal to purclhase a meeting
with Orpheus, Ilesiod, Hlomer?  If it be true that this is to be the
consequence of death, I would even be glad to die often.   WVhat
pleasure wxvill it give to live with Palemnedes and others, who suffered unjustly, and to comnpare my fate with thleirs!  What an
inconceivable happiness will it be to converse, in another world,
withl Sisyphos, Ulysses, &c., especially as the,se who  inhabit that
world shlall die no more."- Socrates, Apol. apud Plat.
The ancient Gernians lhoped to nieet their friends again, beyond
death, in a beautiful and( peaceful valley.-Errnst.
TIIE knowledge of a future life has always been
common am.ong pagan tribes and nations.  That they
should live after death was believ(ed among them from
the earliest time, and has been a cherished doctrine
with them in all ages, and in all lands.  No one among
them, however, professed to have deduced tlle doctrine
of the soul's immortality from  his own reasonings;
neither did any one ever pretend to have received it by
direct revelation from spiritual beings.  They always
speak of it as a very ancient doctrine, found among
those golden glimmerings of sacred tradition whieh
appear among all nations, in the grey twilight of their
early history, fiar back as knowledge extends.
,)4
.1. 
AMONG PAGANS.
This is not strange.  Life is sweet, and it is a pleasing hope to live after death. The knowledge of an
eternal life, no doubt, came to them  by some stray
rays of divine revelation that found their way out from
the tents of Israel into the surrounding gloom of pagan
darkness. These were eagerly caught, warmly cherished, and long retained, because they served in a
great measure to interpret the deep and mysterious
wants and longings of their hearts. No one cant look
into the history, literature, poetry and religion of any
pagan nation, at any period of the world, without being
moved to pity and sympathy at the plaintive expression
of their earnest hopes and fears in reference to another
life.
What has now been said of their belief in another
life itself, is equally true in reference to their belief in
the mutual recognition of each other in that life, and
the renewal and perpetuation of their earthly friendships and affections.  It is necessary, in a full discussion of this subject, to take notice of this, not so much
to ascertain what is positively true —that will be attended to in the proper place- as to ascertain what
the heart, when left to its own longings, desires to be
true.  These deep, earnest voices and whispers of the
human heart, are always prophetic. This cry of want
is to be listened to, in order to find out the remedy
needed.   What God has provided for the saved, will
certainly correspond with the wants of the lost before
they are saved.  These pagan ideas are voices in the
wilderness, like that of John the Baptist, which do not
contradict the teachings of Him who is to come, but
really and truly proclaim what is to come. The "e car       3
25 
TIlE HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
nest expectation of the creature" will not be disap.
pointed.  It is true, in a deep and comnprehensive sense,
that "hope maketh not ashamed."   hope presupposes
a senise of want; hope is the reaching forth of the heart
after that which will satisfy its wants.  What these
wants by an inward necessity reach after, must and
does exist.  This sense of want exists for the very reason that thereby their hearts may be urged on to seek
that whichl will satisfy them. In this sense we are
"saved by hope."  This sense of want teaches us that
what will satisfy them exists, though it be out of sight;
and hence it is that the object of hope must, in the
nature of things, be unseen.  "Hope that is seen is
not hope; for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope
for?  But if we hope for that we see not, then do we
with patience wait for it."
We introduce this chapter on the doctrine of future
recognition among pagans, not only to exhibit the deep
desire they manifested that it might be true, and thus
to show that a want exists in the human spirit which
calls for it; but also to preserve, through the whole
discussion, the unbroken  thread of its history.  It
must be granted, by all who earnestly think, that no
doctrine can be correctly and clearly treated, or rightly
understood and appreciated, except in the light and
connection of its past history.  Any event or doctrine
suddenly sprung upon us, rather confounds than instructs us.  Our intellectual and moral nature always
starts with a kind of suspicious surprise at that which
is new. Only that which is light and frivolous at once
falls in with the latest; the deep and thoughtful regards the past. A doctrine, like a prophet, has not
26 
AMONG PAGANS.
,he same honor, at the time when it arises, which it has
afterwards; age is necessary to give it the authority
of wisdom.  We cannot possibly so well know an individual who is suddenly introduced to us in mature age,
even though his character be delineated to us, as we do
know the same person, if we have known him ourselves
in all his acts from childhood. In like manner, we
cannot have so correct an idea of a doctrine which is
abruptly introduced to us and abstractly discussed, as
we will have of the same doctrine when we trace it,
from its early and feeble dawnings, through all the
phases of its historical evolutions.  Ideas, like the
fragments of a broken body, may be arranged in their
proper and consistent order; but they will have neither life nor beauty unless they have grown together
this requires time-history.  We desire, therefore, to
exhibit this interesting doctrine in its early dawnings
and prophetic glimmerings, as well as in its full and
perfect glory.
Homer, the great ancient Grecian poet, who lived
and wrote about nine hundred years before Christ,
"The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle,"
as the voice of his age, speaks frequently-sometimes
direct, and sometimes incidentally-of the state of the
dead.  The sentiments he expresses are those of the
age in which he lived, as they floated around him in
mystic and sacred tradition.  He does but define, and
utter more clearly than they could have done, what all
believed.  According to his representations, the shades
of the dead retain all the characteristics, dispositions,
27 
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
habits, stations, and peculiarities, which belonged to
them before death.* There, in the shadowy land of
disembodied spirits, dead heroes meet each other and
hold conversations, retaining their earthly distinctive
characters. There his hero is
-   Still a nmaster-ghost; the rest lie awed;
The rest adored hiimi; towering as he trod;
Still at his side is Nestor's son surveyed,
And loved Patroclus still attends his shade.
Odyssey, Book XXIV., line 25.
In the eleventh took of the Odyssey, Homer represents
Ulysses as visiting the shades of the dead. There he
meets many whom  he knew on earth.  There, "wandering through the gloom," he discovered "Elpener's
shade," and also that of Tiressias, with both of which
he holds conversation; the latter informs him, in prophetic strains, of his coming fortunes. Ite meets also
the shades of ancient heroes and heroines; among
them particularly Ajax, "a gloomy shade;" also Patroclus and Achilles, whom he finds in company with
each other, having always been friends in life. With
Achilles he speaks of the affairs of earth, who, in the
course of the conversation, institutes a comparison between life on earth and life in the shades; and wishes
to know whether his son, still upon the earth, strives
to "emulate his father's godlike deeds."
Hle meets also his mother! It is an affecting scene!
lie hastes to embrace her, but she vanishes as a dream
from before him- he being still in the flesh- while he
exclaims, in true tenderness and affection:
* Vide Odyssey, Book II., line 48, &c.
28 
A.ION'G PAGAN'S.
Pliest thlou, loved shliade, while I thus fondly mourn!
Turn to my arins, to my embraces turn!
Is it, ye posters that smile at human hlarms,
Too great a bliss to weep within her arms!
Thlus, through the whole of this book, life among  the
departed is just like life upon earth, as to its social
features; it has the same warm and sensible accompa niments as it has here, and looks just as home-like and
natural to us.  They meet, know, address, love, and
hate one another, just as they did upon the earth.
Socrates, who flourished about four hundred years
before Christ, had many celebrated disciples, among
whom was the great Plato; his sentiments may therefore be fairly taken as the sentiments of his age, and
the age immediately succeeding him. In judging of
the views of Socrates, and other philosophers of that
time, it is necessary to keep in mind, that, as the doctrine of another life itself was not so clearly and fully
known as to enable their earnest minds to repose calmly
upon it, so it was also with their ideas of the future
recog,nition of friends. It was, with them, like the
doctrine of another life itself, a tradition pleasant,
ancient, and venerable, which accorded with the wants
anud wishes of their hearts, rather than a doctrine resting upon a logical basis to satisfy the mind.  Hlence
they speak of it in the varying language of Ihumanl
feeling; at times confidently, and at times withl the
waverings of painful uncertainty.
In the beginning of the Phlidon, Socrates says to
those who came to see him in prospect of death, when
Ibe was about to place the fatal hemlock to his lips,
that it would be wrong in him not to be troubled at the
3*
,)g 
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
idea of dying, "did he not think that hlie should go to
wise and just gods, and to men that had departed this
life."  "But know assuredly," he adds, "that I hope
I am now going to good men, though this I would not
take upon me peremptorily to assert."
This dark and trembling uncertainty in the mind of
this dying philosopher is caused by a temporary failing
of his faith in the ancient tradition, at this trying hour.
There is for a moment a rising of his fears above his
faith.  For this very reason, however, the testimony
of this earnest spirit bears more strongly on this subject.  It shows that it is not the?ind of Socrates
which speaks its cold logic, but it is his heart that
deeply utters its hopes and fears.  It is not so much
his views as his feelings, which he expresses-yea
rather, not his feelings, but the feelings of the whole
heathen mind, as they had gathered strength more and
more from remote anid hoary ages, and at length
uttered themselves in trembling but earnest prophecy
from the heart and lips of dying Socrates.   Such a
voice from the burdened bosom of pagan wants and
woes, has deep significance.  Its very tremblings are
an evidence of its aged, hoary, and sage-like authority.
The pagan heart, pressed thus to the solemn verge of
mortal hopes and fears, shall it not feel a want, and
have a right to express it, too?  Yes; and this want
will not be one that is not real, for the satisfaction of
vhlich the very constitution of human nature does noot
rightfully ask, and for which God has not fully pro.
vided, if this provision is sought after in the true way.
Fallen human  nature utters not a single groan for
which there is not a remedy.  It is fiuly true that
so 
AMIONG PAGANS.
"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot hleal."
The very existence of this sense of want in the paganII
heart is, therefore, a true prophecy that Christianity
will satisfy it.  This "earnest expectation of the creature" points towards a blessed hope, to which all the
heirs of life will surely attain- the future finding
again of all their sainted friends.
When the heart of Socrates was most humble and
tender, and whlen his own wisdom was most under the
powerful influence of simple faith in the ancient tradition, then he spake with more confidence, and in a
firmer and more hopeful tone.  This is the case in the
following passage.  Though it commences with a tremibling and fearful "if," yet it soon warms up, and rises
into the joyful assurance of a calm faith.  "If the
common expression be true, that death conveys us to
those regions which are inhabited by the spirits of departed men, will it not be unspeakably happy to escape
firom the hands of mere nominal judges, to appear before those who truly deserve the name, such as MALinos
and Rhadamanthus, and to associate with all who.have
maintained the cause of truth and rectitude?  Is it
possible for you to look upon this as an unimportant
journey? Is it nothing to converse with Orpheus, and
Ilomer, and -Iesiod? Believe me, I would cheerfully
suffer many a death on the condition of realizing such
a privilege.  I,ith what pleasure could I leave the
world to hold communion with Palemedes, Ajax, and
others, who, like me, have had an unjust sentence pronounced against them? Then would I explore the
wisdom of Ulysses, Sisyphus, and that illustrious chief
who led out the vast forces of the Grecian army agalinst
31 
TIE IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
the city of Troy. Nor should I be condemned to death
for indulging, as I have done here, in fiee inquiry."
Thus spake Socrates to his judges and friends,
shortly after he had been sentenced to drink the poisonous hemlock, which ended his mortal career. Though
the gloomy "if" troubled him, yet it is plain to,eo
that the hope of meeting the great and good of earth
in tile future life was stronger than his fears, and shed
i soul-cheering light upon his dying hour.
We are told that many of the lower orders among
the ancients committed suicide, in the fit of sorrow
caused by the death of friends, in order the sooner to
be with them again upon immortal shores. Socrates
refers to this fact. "Are there not numbers," says he,
" who, upon the death of their lovers, wives, and children, have chosen of their own accord to enter Hades,
induced by the hope of seeing there those they loved,
and of living withl them again?"
The custom which has long prevailed, and which still
prevails among the Hiindoos, and in India generally,
of widows burning themselves on the funeral pyre of
their beloved husbands, can only be explained on the
principle that they expected to follow them into the
future life.  "She would hasten to the society of him
she loves -v le would meet him in the spacious halls
of Brahma, to spend happier days than were ever realized on earth."
In like manner we must interpret the custom of
sacrificing human victims at the death of a chief, which
has prevailed among some pagans from  ancient times,
and is common among the tribes of India.  These are
expected to attend him, as one they wcre wvnt to obey,
82 
AMONG PAGANS.
:lefend, and honor.   This custom, and the intention of
it, are hinted at by IHomer in his Iliad, Book XXIII.,
line 211, nwhere Achilles is said to sacrifice four horses,
twio dogs, and twelve human beings, in connection with
the funeral honors of Patroclus, "selected to attend
their lord."
Four sprightly coursers, with a deadly groan,
Pour forth their lives, and on the pyre are thrown;
Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board,
Fall two, selected to attend their lord;
When  last of all, and horrible to tell,
Sad sacrifice! twelve Trojan captives fell!
This custom plainly points out their belief in the continuation of earthly relations and attachments beyond
the grave.
It is said that it was customary among the Indian
Gymnosophists, or barefooted philosophers, to send
messages to their departed friends with such as made
known their intention of committing suicide. Porphyry
says of them: -" They endure the term of life with
reluctance, as a necessary ministry to nature, and
hasten to get their souls at liberty from their bodies;
and when they appear to be in health, and have no
evil upon them to urge them to it, they freely depart
out of this life, telling others beforehand of their intention, who, far from hindering them, account them
happy, and give them commissions to their deceased
friends."
Dr. Leland, in his excellent work on the Necessity
of Divine Revelation, says: "In many parts of the
world, where they held a life after this, the notion they
33 
'rilE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
had of it seems to have 7 l a, that it shall be a lif6
perfectly like the present, / ith the same bodily wants,
the same exercises an7i viiployments, and the same
enjoyments and pleasre.f/, which they had here. Hence
it was that among eo'nf nations it was customary for
the women, the sla;es, the subjects and friends of the
deceased, to kill themselves, that in the other world
they might serve those whom they loved and respected
in this. Such was the practice among the ancient
Danes, as Bartholimus informs us in his Danish Antiquities."
These are examples of the strength of human affection, even where it is not under the influence of our
holy religion.  How lovely is this stability of earthly
feeling, and how ardently does it hope to be eternal!
Who will say that God has planted in the human heart
this principle of disinterested affection, the fruits of
which are even in this life so beautiful and pleasant,
only to end in death!
We have now found and exhibited this doctrine of
future recognition among the philosophers and poets
of refined and learned Greece, and also among the less
cultivated nations and races in the outer gloom of the
pagan world; let us now seek it among the polite and
polished Romans. - Cicero, the great Roman orator,
who flourished about one hundred years before Christ,
has left us his sentiments on this subject in a very tender and touching passage. " For my own part, I feel
imyself transported with the most ardent impatience to
join the society of my two departed friends, your illustrious fathers, whose characters I greatly respected,
and whose persons I sincerely loved. Nor is this my
34 
AMONG PAGANS.
earnest desire confined to those excellent persons alone
with whom I was formerly connected: I ardently wish
to visit also those celebrated worthies, of whose honor.
able conduct I have heard and read much, or whose
virtues I have myself commemorated in some of my
writings. To this glorious assembly I amrn speedily advancing; and I would not be turned back in my journey, even on the assured condition that my youth, like
that of Pelias, should be again restored.
"0 glorious day! when I shall retire from this low
and sordid scene, to associate with the divine assembly
of departed spirits; and not with those only whom I
have just now mentioned, but with my dear Cato, that
best of sons and most valuable of men!  It was my
sad fate to lay his body on the funeral pile, when by
the course of nature I had reason to hope he would
have performed the same last office to mine. His soul,
however, did not desert me, but still looked back on me
in its flight to those happy mansions, to which he was
assured I should one day follow him. If I seemed to
bear his death with fortitude, it was by no means that
I did not most sensibly feel the loss I had sustained:
it was because I supported myself with the consoling
reflection that we could not long be separated."
WVith what an affecting simplicity are these words
spoken! How wonderfully sweet is their consoling
influence; and how are we surprised that they are the
product of a pagan mind, and the expression of a pagan
heart!  How does the gloomn of death vanish, even in
this pagan mind, before the blessed hope of reunion in
a better life!
Virgil, the plaintive bard of Mantua, lived and
36 
TIlE IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
wrote about fifty years before Christ.  In his 2Eneid,
he makes frequent allusion to the state of the dead.
In the sixth book, he represents the Sibyl as conducting iEneas through the shades below. As he passed
along among them,
He saw his friends,  who, whelm'd beneath the waves,
Their funeral honors claimed, and asked their quiet grates
The lost Leneaspis in the crowd he knew,
Whlom, on the Tyrrhene seas, the tempests met,
The sailors mastered and the ships o'erset.
Amnid the spirits Palinurus pressed,
Yet fresh from life, a new-admrnitted guest,
Who, while he steering viewed the stars, and bore
His course from Afric to the Latian shore,
Fell headlong down.   The Trojan fixed his view,
And scarcely through the gloom the sullen shadow knew.
He saw also others, whom he had known on earth.
Passing on, he came to the "mournful fields;" a place
so called because it is the sequestered and quiet abode
of those who were crossed in love, and who had pined
away and died under the blight of unrequited affection.
Procris, Eriphyle here he found,
Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound
Made by her son.
In all his representations, he speaks of those whom lie
meets in the shades after their station and manner of
life here upon earth. Even the kind of death they
died is often alluded to. Dido is not only addressed as
a queen, but is also pictured as standing before him,
"Fresh from her wounds, her bosom bathed in blod."
36 
AMONG PAGANS.
In like manner, Deiphobus, the son of Priam, is seen
covered with his wounds, and despoiled of his limbs.
The following quotation affords a fine specimen of
the ready manner in which he recognized his friends,
and how similar their intercourse was to what they had
been accustomed to in this world:
ie, with his guide, the farther fields attained,
Whiere, severed from the rest, the warrior souls remained.
Fidens he met, with Meleager's race,
The pride of armies, and the soldier's grace;
And pale Adrastus, with his ghastly face.
Of Trojan chiefs he viewed a niumerous train,
All much lamented, all in battle slainGlaucus and Mledon, high above the rest,
Antenor's sons, and Ceres' sacred priest,
And proud Ideus, Priam's charioteer,
Who shakes his empty reins, and aims his airy spear.
The gladsome ghosts in circlingi troops attend,
AnId with unwearied eyes behold their friend;
Delight to hover near, and long to know
What business brought him to the realms below.
Virgil also represents immediate recognition as taking
place with equal ease in the highest heaven, as in the
lower and more sombre Hades.  Passing on throu,gh
gloomy and cheerless shades, the region of those who
are only partially blest, they enter at length the "verdant fields" of the highler and happier regions.  Ihere,
too, he recognizes those he knewc upon the earth
Ilere founrd they Teucer's old heroic race,
Born better times, and happier years of grace.
Assaracus and Ilus here enjoy
Perpetual fame, wvitlh him  who founded Troy.
4
37 
TIIE IhEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Still he is not satisfied. There are ties of kindred, too,
and he feels himself pressed in heart to seek his rela.
tives.  He longs especially to see his father Anchises!
The Sibyl makes inquiry of sacred priests and poets
for the venerable hero.   Kindly directed by these,
they go through "blissful meadows," and find him at
last in a flowery vale, viewing, with a kind of holy
pride, his race of illustrious descendants, as they pass
in review before him.  At once old Anchises discovers
his son!  The scene is tender and mlloving,!  The siro
sees Eneas comning, and
Aleets him with open arms and falling tears.
"Welcome," he said, "the gods' undoubted iace!
O lorng-expected to my dear embrace!"
This rapture of meeting is warmly and affectionately
reciprocated by the son.  Is it not exactly what we
feel to be natural, when, after a long( separation, we
nmeet our friends in realms of bliss? ]neas exclaims
with holy joy,
Reach forthl your hand, oh parent shade! nor shun
The dear embraces of your loving son!
He said: and filling tears his face bedew:
Then thrice around his neck his arms lie threw!
Such were the views of this Roman poet concerning
the life after death. Thus did he cheer and comfort
his own heart, and the hearts of those for whom lhe
sang,, in the dark hour of bereavement  and sorrow.
They endured the short separation from their fr'iends
in the patience of hope.  They suffered not death to
break the tics which joined them to their friends.  Tlhey
38 
AI0ONG PAGANS.
loved the dead even as the living; yea, sometimes
more-even to deification.  They cherished their memories, praised their virtues, forgot their failings, and
waited in the lonely longings of warm affection to meet
them again in the vale of Tempe, in the Ilesperian
Gardens, the Elysian Fields, or in the peaceful Islands
of the blest, in far-off and quiet seas.
Among modern pagans, this precious and consoling
belief in the future recognition of friends is still held
and cherished.  The ills of life, the pangs of death,
and the long, leaden hours of separation, are still softenedl among them by the blessed hope of reunion in a
world where they die no more.   The custom to which
we have.already alluded as existing among  ancient
pagans, of women, slaves, subjects and friends, killing
themselves, that they might follow those to whom they
were attached in life, still prevails; and it points
plainly to the fact, that the belief in future recognition
and eternal friendships has a deep hold upon their
minds and hearts.  This practice continues, according
to Dr. Leland, to this day, "in Japan, Macassar, and
other places.  It is said to be a custom in Guinea, that
when a king dies many are slain, and their bloody careases buried with him, that they may again live with
him in another world. It was formerly a well-known
custom in the East Indies for women to kill themselves
after the death of their husbands, that they might accompany them in the next life. And so lately as the
year 1710, when the prince of Morava, on the coast
of Coromandel, died, aged above eighty years, his
wives, to the number of forty-seven, were burned with
his corpse.  VWe are told also that in Terra Firma, in
39 
TIIE IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
America, it was customary, when one of their caciques
died, for his chief servants, men and women, to kill themselves, to serve him in the other world; and they buried
with them maize and other provisions for their subsistence. And it is said concerning the disciples of Foe in
China, that some of them, when they meet with obstacles
to their passions (affections), go together to hang or drown
themselves, that, when they rise together again, they
may become husband and wife." True, this is ill-directed affection; and it is because it is not enlightened
and sanctified by the light and spirit of a true revelation, that it leads to such sad results; but surely the
strength and sincerity of it cannot be better shown
than it is in this willingness to die that its possessors
may follow the object they love and adore.
This precious faith in future recognition also manifests itself among modern pagans in other and lovelier
forms.  "Travellers tell us that the Brazilians also
console themselves on the death of their friends by
the hope of being united again to them, and are accustomed to express, in their lamentations, the confident
expectation of seeing them in the unknown regions
beyond the mountains which skirt their horizon, to
renew the accustomed pleasures of the chase, the
dance, and the song.  So also the poor Indian of our
western wilds stretches forth his hands with joy towards
the world beyond his blue mountains, where he anticipates the renewal of his existence in the society of
kindred and contemporary chieftains, and where he
expects that even
,]Iis faithful dog shall bear him company."
40 
AMONG PAGANS.
St) when the wretched sons of I-am are torn, by monsters in human shape, from their home and kindred,
anti sold to masters in distant lands, what is their comfort, while memnory, reverting to the scenes of youth,
brings thie tear of sorrow down their sable cheeks, but
the cherished belief that after death will be formed
anew those social bonds which infernal cruelty had
dared to sever?  This revives their spirit, and sweetens
their bitter cup of life.  They hope to meet their loved
ones again in unmolested realms of happiness, where
No fiends tormnent, nor Christians thirst for gold.
Tis, when far firom home, is their song of rapturethis is the theme of their consolation, as they sit by
the waters of captivity and weep."
'Tis but to die, and then to weep no more,
Tllen will lie wake on Congo's distant shore;
Beneath his planrtain's ancient shliade renew
The simple transports that with freedom flew;
Catch the cool breeze that musky  evening blows,
And quaff the palm's rich nectar as it flows;
The oral tale of elder times rehearse,
And chant the rude traditionary verse,
\With those, the loved companions of his youth,
When life was luxury, and friendship truth.
Such is the sighing of the pagan heart.  So  heave
the heavy, wo-pressed bosoms of those whose infinite
longings have not yet seen the star of the Christian's
hopes arise in the dark firmament which overhangs the
shades of moral death.  Such is the "earnest expectation of the creature" stumbling in painful yet hopeful
4 *
41 
THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
uncertainty in the way of its desires and wants. There
is to us something sweetly interesting and instructive
in these ideas of a future life, and the mutual recognition of friends in that life, as found among the thick
gloom of paganism.   It is, as already hinted, a prophecy of the truth.  Just as sacrifices, which aie every
where resorted to in pagan religion to reconcile men
with gods, proclaim  the necessity of that sacrifice
which Christianity reveals as an atonement for sin, so
do those hopes and longings after reunion with departedl friends prophetically proclaim that God will graciously provide for the full satisfaction of this iwant in
the future inheritance of the saints.
It makes us feel happy also to think how precious
must have been the drop of consolation, whichl this
faith in future recognition afforded to tlihose among
them who sorrowed after departed friends. How merciful is God even to human infirmities; and how true
is it that his tender mercies are over all his works in
all places of his dominion! He pities even the poor
benighted pagan, and, although he gives the children
bread, hlie denies not to them the crumbs which fall
from the table.  How many tears did this faith wipe
away! how many sad and forlorn spirits did it calm
and cheer! and what a hopeful vista did it open to bereaved and bleeding hearts beyond the otherwise cheerless grave! Let us bless God for every drop of consolation which this doctrine has afforded to poor sorrowing heathen in the hour of fresh bereavements.
Then,  too, these views  are creditable  to human
friendship, even where it is only human.  Glad are
we, in this fallen world, amid the disorganizing and
42 
AMONG PAGANS.
dividing influences of sin, to see hearts thus clinging
to each other through life, and refusing even to be
hopelessly sundered in death.  These tendrils of living
affection are like flowery vines that grow over doleful
ruins to hide their hideousness, and to make the world
more beautiful.   Oh! why should not this be prophetic
of the final and eternal renovation of our social life in
heaven, where the ruins of the fall shall be restored,
and where all that sin has divided shall be brought together again into the joyful embraces of holy love. We
find it hard to consider a doctrine so full of consolation, and so creditable to true friendship, as only
"The  herald of a lie."
We find it hard to believe that this agreeable hope,
which rises like a May sun over the world of social
life, cheering and warming and making it beautiful,
and which often sets in richest glory, shall be finally
and for ever lost in night.  No-it will surely rise
again in new beauty, when the eternal morning shall
dawn upon the grave; holy affections, as well as glorious bodies, shall come forth from the tomb; suspended ties of affection, which, like plants whose life retired
during winter into the bosom of the earth, will revive
in vernal loveliness, and bloom on in an eternal spring.
In this connection, it occurs to me that there are
sceptics in the world in these last days!  Sceptics, who
profess to regard with cold and stoic indifference ail
hopes and fears in reference to a future life.  They
boast of following the dictates of nature, reason, and
the intuitive motions of an inward sense.  Here, in
these pagan ideas, is nature uttering its desires, its
43 
TIIE IIEAV\ENLY RECOGNITION
hopes, its wants, its fears-here is a voice from tihe
deeps of burdened hearts, strong as humanity, under
the pressure of infinite wants, can utter; and what
does it proclaim, but the truth so plainly revealed in
God's word, that the infinite longings of the human
heart can find no full satisfaction on this side of an
immortal life!  This solemn and important truth the
heart of  every modern sceptic would still utter, did he
not drown the voice of his own higher nature in the
revilings and riotings, in the stupidity and slumbers,
of earthliness and sin!  Wvho would not be ashamed
of his infidelity, lwhen reproved by the earnest but
groping heathen?  Another life-and a better oneall nature proclaims.  Another life-and a better one
-is uttered from the constitution of our nature in the
restlessness of its infinite desires.  Another life-and
a better one-God promises to all who will seek it by
faith in Christ, wlho brought immortality to light.
Tihere, and there alone, are enduring treasures; there
alone are joys that end not- there is life without ills,
and affections that never die.
IWe pity the poor bewildered pagans; and it is right
that we should; but let us not so misuse our superior
mercies, as to give them just cause to rise up in judgmnent to condeimn us.  WAe enjoy superior lilght-let
us love and use it.  Let us not disgrace our faith by
sorrowing for our dead even more than those who have
no hope. Let our faith and hope in another life be
stronger than theirs-let our affections towards our
friends be holier lwhile they are with us-let our sorrows after them be inore chastened and submissive
when they are taken away - let our desires after them,
44 
AMONG PAGAN'S.
and the blessed inheritance upon which they have entered, be like a holy cord in our hearts to draw us away
from the low delights of earth and sin - and let our
gratitude to God be ardent and endless as his goodness
is to us.
If we have tears to weep, let it be for the wretched
cn earth, and not for those who rest from their toils
and woes. Weep for the dead who are dead in sin, not
for the living who are alive and blest in heaven. And
you, who have never been made alive in Christ Jesus,
weep for yourselves. Go not to the tomb where the
ashes of buried love repose - where a kindred saint
sleeps in Jesus as in a downy bed-but go to the cross,
and weep tears of penitence over your sins, till Jesus
wipes them away.
Oh, weep not for the dead!
Rather, oh! rather give the tear
To those that darkly linger here,
WVhen all besides are fled.
Weep for the spirit withering
In its cold, cheerless sorrowing;
Weep for the young and lovely one,
That ruin darkly revels on;
But never be a tear-drop shed
For them, the pure enfranchised dead t
45 
IIEAVEINLY RECOGNITION
CHAPTER III.
)3rn uru qr It gnitinn t,lnintr2         t 1 a rtirL
X        RiJ  Eh  irt.
I call'd on dreams and visions to disclose
That which is veiled from waking thoughts; conjured
Eternity as men constrain a ghost
T' appear and ainswer; to the grave I spake
Imploringly;-looked up, and asked the heavens
If angels traversed their cerulean floors,
If fixed or wandering star could tidings yield
Of the departed spirit- lwhat abode
It occupies- what consciousness retains
Of former loves and interests.
Hrordsworth, Ex. Bk. III.
ThAT the saints in light shall again reco,gnize and
know each other, and renew the acquaintances and
friendships formed on the earth, is a universal belief,
hope and desire.  Some, it is true, have affected to
doubt it, and even to pretend that it is not desirable
that it should be true; but not, we think, earnestly,
and with a sincere and humble zeal for the truth.  Any
doubts which have existed in regard to this point, have,
we are inclined to suppose, been the result of affectation; or, to attribute to such doubters the most chari
table motives, they have been entertained under the
46 
A  UN'IVERSAL BELIEJF.
influence of mere negative considerations.  If, therefore, there are a few affected doubters, they are th,e
cxception, and not the rule; andl we are not hindered
in considering the desire after, and the belief in, future
recognition as a universal sentiment.
A few remarks on this subject will convince any one
of ordinary reflection, observation,  and experience,
that the hope and desire of finding again in heaven
those loved and lost on earth, is strictly universal. W\re
have seen how pagans have vicewed it; we shall find it
equally general in Christian lands.  Not only do we
find allusions to this doctrine, taking its truth for
granted, among learned philosophers and theologians;
but we hear of it, in like manner, among  the quiet
orders Ef common andl humble life.  There is not a
country grave-yard, where some monumental stone docs
not record it, and lwhere this hopeful thought does not
prompt the rising sigh in the bosom of bereaved and
sorrow-ing hearts, and where this sigh is not  again
calmed by a rising faith in this doctrine.   There is
scarcely a funeral discourse pronounced at the grave
of the pious, in which it is not referred to in tones of
sweet consolation.   There is scarcely a funeral lhymi
in whichl it is not mentioned, referred to, or taken for
granted. There is scarcely a death-bed around whichl
it does not linger, like the mellow notes of a long,-lovedl
song, either on the lips of the dying, or from symnpatllizing firiends +who crowd affectionately around, to hand
the dcleparting one softly down into the Letlican stream.
— immediately after writing the last sentence, I was
called, as pastor, to visit a young Sabbath-school schlolar on her death-bed.  She was about twelve years old,
47 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
and had been much  afflicted.   She requested me to
sing.  I asked her  hlat hymn she loved, proamsing to
sing it.  Having a few minutes before risen from  my
meditations on this subject, to call on her, it was a
little remarkable to me that, in reply to my question,
What hymn she loved? she repeated, with feeble voice
and trembling lips, part of the following:
In this dark world of sin and pain,
We only meet to part again;
But when we reach the heavenly shore,
We then shall meet to part no more.
The hope tlhat we shall see that day,
Should chase our present griefs away;
When these few years of pain are past,
We'll meet around the throne at last.
Thus, with the solemn and affectionate farewells of
the pious, this faith mingles its words of hope and
promise: "if we meet no more on earth, we will meet
in heaven." This doctrine, also, generally closes the
heart-indited letter to the absent, and is the wing of
every sigh that follows them into lands distant and
unknown.
The common  feeling on this subject is beautifully
expressed in a happy allusion to this doctrine by the
late pious Dr. Nevins, in his Practical Thoughts, vllich
wvill serve as a specimen of numberless others of a
similar kind, abounding in biog,raphlies, obituaries,
liturgies, letters, and consolatory writings.  " True,
death separates; but it unites, also.  It takes us, I
know, frolt many we love; but it takes us to as many
we love."  Alore than half of some families have gone
48 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
already to heaven; why should we be so much  more
desirous of continuing with that part on earth, than
of joining that portion which is in heaven?
So general is this belief, that it is confined to no age
of the world, but is found in all ages. It is confined
to no place, but is found in all places. It is peculiar
to no denomination of Christians, and to no tribe, nation, or religion of pagans; but is found among all.
The learned also have it even as the ignorant, and cherish it with the same implicit tenderness and affection.
Like the partings and bereavements which call it forth,
it is extensive as our death-doomed and dying race.
"It is the voice of nature, proclaiming in loud and
joyous accents the destiny of her virtuous children."
Not only is this a common and general faith, but it
is associated also with a warm and animated desire. It
is not a cold and dead notion by which this doctrine is
held; but it is a faith that lives, and longs ardently for
its realization. All most devoutly desire it to be true,
and daily live on its happy and consoling promises.
The bare thought that it might not be true is dreadfully distressing, and every passing doubt of its truth
brings a moment's misery into the heart where it finds
entrance. 
The general existence, then, of this faith, and the
general desire that it may be true, are undoubted. Now
the question arises, Hilow does this furnish any evidence
that it is true?  WVe will answer.
Where is there an universal idea that is not true?
hVliere are there universal hopes or fears that are
groundless?  Where is there an idea that is common
to heathen, Mahomedan, Jew, and Christian-common
5
49 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
to all sects and divisions of religionists - common to
high and low, learned and ignorant - common also to
all lands and all ages-where is there such a universal
idea of any kind, that is not founded in truth? There
is none.  Error alone is sectional-the catholic an]
universal is true. Humanity does inot lie. Any want
which it expresses is a true want. Any hope which it
cherishes in its broad and universal bosom, is a hope
that may be realized by all such as can find the path;
and any fear which it feels and expresses, is no ground.
less fear.  The heathen motto "vox POPULI, Vox DEI,"
is not true, indeed, according to the sense attached to
it by those who used it; but it s true in the deeper
sense above explained.  "The deepest lore is the most
universal."  The loudest and strongest testimony to
truth, next to the voice from heaven, is that which
heaves up mightily from the broad bosom of humanity,
like the voice of one lost in a wilderness, plaintive and
tremulous-the lips of the sage always tremble and
utter feebly -but hopeful still.  Whenheavenspeaks,
earth returns the echo; and if we hear but the echo,
we know what the voice spake, though it be less distinctly.  The reflected heavens in the waters of earth,
preach of the heavens that are over them; and the
stars that shine reflected out of their tossed and restless waves, would not be there if they were not first in
the tranquil heavens above. So, what we hear sounding forth in a universal voice from the whole race of
man, has been spoken to them from heaven, though in
a voice so still, that only those who hold their breath
in quiet hear it. There be prophets in bur inner life,
as well as in our outer world!
50 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
That these universal ideas are often faint, flickering,
and unsteady, is not owing to the serene and unclouded
firmament of truth in which they have their source and
home, but to the restless medium through which they
pass, and the tarnished surface in man's darkened mind
from which they are reflected. Though tossed and
wandering, it is still truth,
As sunshine broken in a rill,
Though turned astray, is sunshine still!
That all universal ideas are true, not indeed always
in their form" but in their substance, may be farther
established and illustrated by reference to several such.
The belief in the existence of a God, for instance, is
common to all men. There are no human beings to be
found, however rude or polite, who do not hope or fear
it. Some nations, it is true, have lost His unity, and
represent Him in broken fragments; some have very
wrong, and many more, very imperfect ideas of Hilm;
but of the existence of some Sovereign Power over
them, none doubt-but fools! Ps. xiv. 1. With all,
the idea of God's existence is not so much a deduction
of reason, as a spontaneous feeling or consciousness.
It is the light and life of God's reflected image in man.
He  "glasses Himself" in man's spirit.  He speaks
forth his own existence from out the consciousness of
all men whom he has made. He looks forth from his
own image in man, in feeble, mellow, but yet in true
manifestation. The distortions into which this truth has
fallen, do not invalidate its verity- though they may
obscure it-any more than fragments disprove a whole
51 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
from which they are broken.   The many gods of the
heathen are fragments of the one true God-they
prove His existence. HIere, then, is an undoubted
instance of the truth of an universal idea.
Alike universal, though fragmentary, is the doctrine
of immortality. All men, unless they are spoiled by
a vain philosophy, believe in a future state.  This is
generally received, and properly too, as a proof that
there is another life.  If the belief in an immortal
state were a deduction of reason, it would never have
been universal-for where is there a truth that can
only be reached by reason, which is universal?-but
being the result of human spontaneiety, it is broad as
humanity itself. This corresponds exactly with the
facts as furnished by the history of this doctrine.  It
was not received by those who held it through reason;
but it came to them by tradition from the morning twilight of time. The fact is, reasoning on it led them
away from it into doubts and fears. The more human
reason was developed in the minds of pagan philosophers, and the more it sought to take this doctrine exclusively under its care, for the purpose of placing it on
solid ground, the more was it lost to them in doubt and
despair.  The universal tradition, as it lived hopefully
in the hearts and in the simple faith of the common
people, was stronger and less disturbed than it was in
the minds of those who sought to unfold, establish, and
beautify it, in the light of reason. It is a fact which
strikingly confirms what has now been said, that the
doctrine of the soul's immortality was never more
doubted than in the politest ages and circles of Grecian
cultivation.   Even Plato and Socrates, in their last
52 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
hours, refreshed their fainting faith in it, not by calling to mind their own reasonings on the subject, but
from the far-back fountains of sacred tradition. "They
say it is true," was a stronger voice of consolation to
them, than "I have reasoned that it is true."
In regard, then, to both these doctrines- viz., the
existence of God, and the soul's immortality-it is the
universal voice, which forms the firmest basis, out of
the Bible, for the soul's repose in them. HIumanity is
no lie, exclaims the earnest; truth-seeking spirit; and
its voice, where it gives but one sound, speaks not
error, but truth.
If we need any additional proof that the deepest ]ore
is the most universal, and that all universal ideas are
true, we might refer to the universal sense of sin, the
necessity of redemption, and the necessity of some
atonement by sacrifice and blood! Are not these ideas
everywhere found? Do they not form the very substance of all religious feelings among pagans? and are
they not voices in all parts of the heathen wilderness
prophetic of the coming truth? In short, there is not
one vital truth in divine revelation concerning the
whole race of man, that has not its likeness, though in
mournful caricature and hideous burlesque, in the religious ideas of pagans. This proves beyond all doubt,
that, though the reason and logic of fallen humanity
are false, its sighs are true. The infinite wants which
lie in their constitution reach after the truth. They
seek, if haply they might feel after and find it.  "For
we know that the whole creation groaneth and travail.
th in pain together until now."
Now, tlbl doctrine we are discussing stands in the
5*
53 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
same category with these universal ideas just mnen.
tioned.  What has been said of them, is equally true
of this. It belongs, like them, to those universal truths
which spring up spontaneously from all hearts, in all
ages, places, and circumstances; and, like them, it is
not doubted, except where persons have overcome their
spontaneous and instinctive feelings by false philosophy, by rationalistic sophisms, and by casting up difficulties and objections against it, without giving due
weight to positive considerations and implicit faith.
This doctrine has as deep a necessity as that of the
doctrine of a future life itself; for, that man is a social
being, is just as deeply grounded in his nature as that
he is an immortal being, or even as deeply as the feeling that he is a being at all.  Why then should not the
universal belief that the doctrine of future recognition
is true, be taken as a real prophecy of its truth? The
universal belief in its truth, and the universal desire
that it may be true, show that there is a want of it in
our nature. They show that it is not a conclusion from
premises that might be false, but a free instinctive testimony of nature, spontaneous and disinterested. We
get it not first " by any elaborate instructions, or dint
of argument, or any long train of consequences; but it
strongly masters our understandings by its native evidence, and springs up in us an unpremeditated
resolve."
These considerations, however, though to a reflecting
mnind of the deepest force, may not carry with them
the convictions of most persons, as readily as some
others which shall follow. If the mere fact that this
faith in future recognition-like that in the existence
54 
A UN'IVERSAL BELIEF.
of God, the soul's immortality, and the sense of guilt
and need of redemption by sacrifice-is general, be
taken as proof of its foundation in truth, the following
several collateral considerations will increase our convictions of its truth.
I. We remark, first, that although the belief in this
doctrine is common to all, yet it grows in the mind and
heart, and becomes firm in proportion as Christianity
prevails.
Where religion flourishes most, there this belief is
most firmly held, and most warmly cherished. This
will not be disputed.  It is not so with error; though
long held and ardently loved, it always grows faint and
feeble in the light of Christianity, and finally vanishes
entirely.  If this belief were a gross pagan error, it
would have shared the same fate, amid the progress of
Christian light and truth. It could not have lived in
the radiance of revelation.  It has, however, been just
the exact reverse.  It has not only lived in the bright
blaze of divine revelation, but it has actually grown
bright and lovely in its brightness. Error may be
compared to the mists of earth, which pass away before the rising sun; but truth, to plants which are
warmed and cheered by its rays, which bask joyfully
in its beams, and receive firom its influence new beauty
and perfection.   So has it been with this doctrine.  It
has grown lovely, consistent, and more than ever desirable, as Christianity has aroused the hopes of men,
enlarged their conceptions of the destiny of their ow.
spirits, and pointed them to the joyous inheritance of
an endless life.
II. Not only, generally, has this belief in futiro
55 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
recognition increased with the progress of religion, and
been most consistent and desirable where religion was
mnost honored; but it also grows strong in individual
hearts in proportion as they grow in grace.
Those who are most deeply imbued with the spirit
of Christ, hold most warmly to it. It grows with their
spiritual growth, brightens with their hopes, and
strengthens with their strength. Why is this so, if it
be error? Is it not the Holy Spirit of truth which
enlightens and sanctifies the Christian's heart? Are
not the changes wrought in the soul, wrought by Him?
Does not Hie work in them heavenly graces? Does not
Hle guide them into all truth, and cleanse them from
error? and, though lIe makes no new revelations to
them, yet does He not show them of the things of
Christ? unfold in their hearts divine truth in all its
enlighteing and comforting bearings and details? If
these are His workings in the heart, could this faith in
future recognition grow and increase under His influence if it were an error? Would it not wax faint, and
vanish away as fast as the Spirit wrought truth into
the heart as a sanctifying element to free it from all
error? Verily, it would. The very fact, therefore,
that this doctrine gains a firmer hold in the heart while
the Spirit is doing HIis work of grace there, proves
that He cherishes it, and that it is therefore not error,
but truth.  If this conclusion is not admitted,  we
charge the Spirit of truth with begetting error, and
the Spirit of comfort with encouraging dependence
upon a vain consolation.  We tremble at such a thought.
III. This belief is also more firmly held by saints
than by sinners.
56 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
The wicked, though they perhaps all profess i., b)elieve this doctrine, nevertheless hold it, as they do all
revealed truth, in a kind of practical unbelief.   It
never acquires the same force or preciousness in their
minds and hearts, as it does in the case of Christians.
Idow careless and thoughtless generally are unregenerate men on this subject!  When one of their friends
dies with the Christian's hope, it would be to them intolerable to think that this is an eternal separation, as
long as they remain in their sins, if a sense of future
recognition were alive in their hearts; but, though they
know themselves to be sinners, and the departed one
to have been pious, and hence to have gone whither
they cannot come, yet how little practical effect has it
upon them! It is an event that makes a transient impression, and passes in a day!  They do not feel that
this is to them an eternal separation; and yet such is
the truth; but they u'ould feel it, were this faith in
future recognition deeply set in their hearts.   This
shows how faint, shallow, and floating, are their views
and feelings in reference to it.
It is not so on the part of Christians.  They feel
deeply and long the absence of Christian friends who
have died in the Lord. They long after them with a
kind of holy impatience, till ofttimes the strength of
their sorrow draws them sooner after the departed ones
into the tomb-and into Ileaven! We can only account for the fact that this belief is stronger in saints
than in sinners, on the ground that the same grace and
the same Spirit's influences, which sanctify the heait,
also encourage it in this precious faith.  This could,
however, not be the case, were it not founded in truth.
67 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
IV. Not only is this faith more operative in Chris.
tians than in sinners, but it is most active in the hearts
of Christians themselves in the time of their deepest
sorrows.
When the darkness of their souls is greatest, on account of the loss of those whom religion itself taught
them to love more than they could have loved them
without it —when they sit dumb and silent in grief,
this thought comes and looks forth smilingly upon
them, like the cheering light of hope from behind the
clouds of despair. The consolation of this doctrine
comes, with a strength and sweetness which it has not
at any other time, in the night-time of loneliness and
bereavement-just when it is most needed. When
evening comes-and to whom does it not come?-then
do dark clouds gather around the gloomy portals of
closing day; yet the sun behind them, out of sight, it
is true, but still shining, opens up golden vistas between them, like gates of light, into a brighter heaven
beyond; so, when the friendly orbs around which our
affections circled, and which were the light and joy of
our souls, sink beneath the horizon of earth, the belief
in a heavenly recognition forms inlets, through which
the love-light of the departed still streams back into
our sad hearts, and gives us promise of a brighter
morrow. A soothing voice, deep in the forlorn spirit
seems to say,
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the cloud is the sun still shining.
Thus, while sitting, bereaved and mournful, under the
willows, where the stream of mortal life flows sighing,
58 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
we are comforted. Why is this source of consolation
so peculiarly refreshing just at this time? Is the Holy
Spirit "the Comforter," who abides with us always?
and has He nothing to do with the light of comfort
which thus arises in our hearts from this doctrine in
our darkest hours?  Yea more, does He at this time
allow our hearts to be deceived into quietude by the
sweetness of a lie? Or does He mock our sorrows by
a consolation which will only end in dreary disappointment?  God forbid!  The thought of it, if seriously
entertained, is not far short of blasphemy.
These considerations, it seems to me, must have
great force to a reflecting mind. We see that effects
are produced by this doctrine, that can only be produced by the Holy Spirit's co-operation; we must,
therefore, conclude that it has His sanction, and must
be true.
Not only do we derive a proof in favor of this doctrine from the universal belief that it is true, but also
from the universal desire that it may be true.
We do not suppose, let it be remembered, that the
mere fact that this desire exists in the minds of some
men is of itself a satisfactory proof that it is true.
This desire might be awakened in some by earnest speculation on the subject-it might spring out of the
imperfection of human knowledge, or out of wrong
ideas of heavenly felicity: yea, even out of the natural
heart entirely; for low sensualists, and even refined
ones, may look for sensual delights in heaven, and may
even ardently desire them; but this is no proof that
they will be found there. We say, therefore, that the
mere fact that this desire exists in the hearts of
0
59 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
some, is of itself no satisfactory evidence that it will
ever be realized.  It is quite different, however, when
this desire is universal, as it is in this case.  Then
it is the voice of nature, of which God himself is the
author, under the pressure and sense of its own wants,
proclaiming with undivided testimony what those wants
are, and what will satisfy them.   Men, for some selfinterest, may delude themselves, may create wants, and
then seek to have them satisfied; but these will always
be sectional and limited: a want like this, which  is
universal, is different. It is the simple, spontaneous
utterance of nature, unsophisticated and free-nature
instinctively groaning, painfully but hopefully, in the
direction of its destiny, and reaching earnestly forwaird
to feel its way into rest and peace.
As in the case of an universal belief, so also in the
case of an universal desire, this fact, in connection
with other facts, which naturally grow out of this and
are associated with it, afford a strong proof of the
truth of the doctrine of future recognition.
Thus, the fact that this desire, though universal, is
strongest where Christianity prevails most, and increases as our spirits grow in the Christian life-just
as the belief in it grows with growth in grace- is evidence beyond doubt that this desire is founded in Christian truth. If the Holy Spirit sanctifies and increases
these desires while He is performing his gracious woiok
in the heart-which he does, as is shown by the fact
that they do increase in proportion as the work cf
sanctification goes on-then they are surely founded in
real want, and will certainly be satisfied in a complete
realization.  T'he Spirit does not induce us to cherish
60 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
desires, and Himself strengthen them, for the full satis.
faction of which there is not complete provision made
in those rich consolations which He has in store for all
God's dear children.  If He did this, he would worl
on the soul for a false issue.  He would be triflng with
our spirits; yea, even with our sorrows!  He would 1)e
only mocking us, while leading us forth with comforting words to fearful and bitter disappointment!  This,
the Comforter, the Spirit of all truth, will not do. No.
Wvhen we have been long absent from our homes and
friends, the desire to see them  grows  stronger, the
nearelr we draw towards them; so, the farther we proceed on the heavenly way, under the guidance of the
Comforter,  towards  those who  are  now  "saints in
light," the more does our desire to join them increase.
Which now is most reasonable to believe, that the Holy
Spirit increases this pious desire to make the disappointment more bitter, or to make the joyful nmeeting
more ecstatic?  I have asked, and thou shalt answer
me.
We have now seen that the hope, belief, and desire
of future heavenly recognition, are universal; we have
also  seen in what way this fact furnishes a strong
ground in which to rest the belief that it is a true doetrine. We cannot help observing in what an interesting light this fact places the whole human family before our view.  Various as men are in their religious,
civil and social characters, and in their positions and
circumstances in life, all fondly cling to this hope.  In
this, high and low, rich and poor, bond and free, Christiars and pagans, all agree. The king upon his throne,
and the beggar weary beside the highway, equally de
G
61 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
sire this boon. In this the most learned theologian,
and the most ignorant pagan, are of one mind. It is
strange, if this be error, that amid such a variety there
should not be some whose hearts and minds could surmount it, and cast the delusion in hatred away.-What
is most interesting in this view, is the reflection: What
a leveller is truth, especially the truths of the other
world!  All who embrace them must step down upon
the same humble level. Where are earth's aristocratic
distinctions in the light of eternity? At the well of
Jacob, Christ the Great, and the Samaritan woman
alike quench their thirst- like that well are the fountains of consolation which God opens up from the
future life; here all who will drink must meet. The
king may dip with a golden goblet, and the beggar with
a gourd; but the water is the same to both. Where is
your greatness, ye proud ones? Where is your royalty, ye of the princely line? Where are your titles,
ye elite of the earth? Your hope of eternal blessedness is a hope to sit with a "beggar in Abraham's
bosom." Bring your crowns, your sceptres, your diadems, and all your royal toys, ye great ones-lay them
down at the feet of our common Saviour,
"And crown Him Lord of all."
The fact of the universality of this doctrine, as just
discussed, is interesting, also, in teaching us that there
are yet universal ideas in this world of fragments.
Humanity, and human hopes and fears, are still one.
In all its variety and diversity, there remains, never
theless, a blessed unity.  It proclaims itself as one, if
62 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
not in its conflicting interests, still in its wants and
wishes. Its misery is one; its bereavements are alike,
and it partakes of one sorrow. The world, then, can
still sit together, if at no other time, when it weeps!
If we come not together in our faith, we do in our
hopes. If we cannot meet in the house of praise,
prayer and worship, we do meet in the house of mouriLing. This should teach us to cultivate the sweet and
tender sympathies of an universal charity.
It is a refreshing thought to us, that, in the midst
of the almost endless perplexities of fragmentary ideas
and cold negatives, there are still some positive bonds
of universal and eternal fellowship. We testify to this
by the tears of our common grief. In this sphere our
sympathies are truly catholic. All weep over broken
ties; these ties, therefore, concern all. He that mourns
- and who mourns not - is our brother! Let us seek
to draw more closely to each other in all respects. Let
our common woes, our common love, and our common
sorrow for the dead, teach us to lay aside all selfishness-to cultivate common interests, and common sympathies. In our graves we shall be one, and alike!
The kingdom of the dead is a catholic kingdom-all
lie low in the dust.
"Their hatred and their envy is now perished."
Here  we  meet, both  in  our affections  and  in our
final condition. Let us learn, therefore, to love the
living as ive love the dead. Why should we cherish
so fondly our love for the departed, and desire that
63 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
our relations to them may not be broken for ever,
and not learn to draw closer those ties which lie so
near to us among all the living? For this purpose,
God breaks our hearts into tenderness and tears, by a
common sorrow, that our affections may
Like kindred drops be mingled into one.
Shame on our religion, that we meet not, unless we
flow together on the stream of our mutual tears!-but
better thus than not at all.
This universal desire after a heavenly recognition,
then, besides affording us a precious argument in favor
of its truth, teaches us, also, that all the hatred, divisions, and conflicts in our race, are against nature, as
well as against God's will, and the spirit of our holy
religion.  Nature, from its broad bosom, in its common
hopes and fears, proclaims the human race a brotherhlood. The cord of love, however, that should run
through humanity, alas! is broken.   Let us seek to
restore it.  This we can only do by imbibing the life
and love of that revelation in which both the true relations of life in this world, and the blessedness of love's
immortality, are brought to light. As we expect to be
eternally near each other in the upper kingdom of love,
let us begin to draw the cords closer on earth. Let us
long to have broken ties mended, even as we long to
have existing ones to last for ever.  In Christ, and in
him alone, can our race, long divided and estranged by
sin, be brought together.  He is lifted up that he may
draw all men unto Him.   To Him shall the gathering
together of the people be. Those who are united to
64 
A UNIVERSAL BELIEF.
hlm in life and love, will be united also to each other
here in this world through life, and in heaven eternally. In HIim,
The saints on earth, and all the dead,
But one communion mnake;
All join in Christ, their living Head,
And of his life partake.
In such society as this,
My weary soul would rest;
The man that dwells where Jesus is,
Must be for ever blest.
6'
65 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
CIIAPTER IV.
XU~u2'I r ErfuSnitinun  in  tlt  ItIgIt uf  T.Bft5au.
All love believes in a double immortality- in its own, and in
that of t:i.l object it loves.  When love once fears that it may
cease, it ina, already ceased.  It is all the same to our hearts whethler the beloved one fades away, or only his love.
JEAN PAUL.
IT has by some been thought necessary to raise
several distinct questions in regard to future recognition, so as to place it in a reasonable light. By some
there has been "a great gulf fixed"- not between the
saved in heaven and the lost in hell, +where God has
fixed it, but between the abode of the saints before the
resurrection and after it.  Some deny that. o. taught
in the Heidelberg Catechism, "the soul aftel-r this life
shall be immediately taken up to Christ its head"somie deny that, as taught in the Shorter Catechism,
"the souls of believers are at their death made perfect
in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory"somne deny that, as taught in the Westminster Confession, the souls of believers are at death immediately
'received into the highest heavens."  Instead of this
consoling doctrine, the existence of a " middle place"
is imagined, where the spirits of the saints are detained
until they receive their bodies.  IIence it has )been
co 
YN THE LIGIIT OF REASON.
thought necessary, in proper respect to this imagination, to inquire whether recognition will take place
among disembodied spirits in this "middle place" before the resurrection.  As to the intermediate or disembodied condition of the saints, we will presently
give answer.   The existence, however, of any such
middle place, we deny. It has no foundation either in
reason, scripture, or the teachings of the Church, except where these have been made to speak under the
influence of pagan philosophy.  This, however, is not
the place to discuss this question.*
If there is no intermediate place, there is, nevertheless, an intermediate condition.  This may still seemn
to leave behind it a difficulty.  Even if the spirits of
the saints at death, "being then made perfect in holiness, are received into the highest heavens," still, being
disembodied, there may seem to be difficulties in the
way of recognition which will not exist after the resurrection.  Still, I see no reason why this should be a
separate question; for, so far as the scripture evidence
which is brought forth on this subject bears upon future
recognition in yeneral, we have just the same reason
to believe that it will take place before the resurrection
as after it.  The Scriptures plainly make no distinction of this kind.  The only thing, then, necessary to
be determined, is, whether there are any insurmountable difficulties from the side of reason lying against it,
which would demand a separate discussion of these
* The grounds on which the existence of a middle place is denied
are given in the author's work entitled, "Heaven, or an Earnest and
Scriptural Inquiry into the Abode of the Sainted Dead;" where this
sub)ject is discussed at length.  To it the reader is referred.
67 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
questions   If no such difficulties exist, it may remain
to us one question, as the Scriptures have made it.
Do any such difficulties exist? To this we answer,
that the idea of future recognition, even among disembodied spirits, is not unreasonable. Even if it were
above reason, it might not be against it; but it is not
even above reason: for we know that there are peculiarities of spirit, peculiarities of intellectual faculties
and of moral dispositions, which mark the identity and
difference of beings, and which distinguish them from
each other, just as clearly and tangibly as they are
distinguished by any peculiarities of body. By these,
recognition is possible. In the future world, before the
resurrection, where spirits meet spirits without the intervention of the body, these peculiarities of spirit may
be even more prominent and striking than any peculiarities of the body can possibly be; and thus, instead
of hindering, may greatly facilitate mutual recognition.
- There is, moreover, reason to believe that, among
the bright and sinless hosts of heaven, there are spirits who know and recognize each other, without any
of those coarse and sensible marks of identity which
are here in this life furnished by our intervening bodies. There is therefore nothing unreasonable in the
idea of mutual recognition among the saints in their
disembodied state before the resurrection of the body.
Hence we must give the Scriptures, which, so far as
they throw light upon this subject, make no distinction
of the kind and no division of the subject, their full
weight and their greatest latitude.
It has also by some been thought necessary to determine or inquire whether future recognition will take
68 
IN THE LIGIIT OF REASON.
place at once, and on sig7ilt, as we now recognize an old
acquaintance whom we unexpectedly meet in a strange
city or country; or whether it will take place gradually,
by converse and intercourse, which will at length lead
to the mutual discovery that there was a previous acquaintance, just as we sometimes, in old age, meet a
friend that we had not seen since youth, and with whom
we gradually revive old associations. Here, again, we
see not the necessity of looking at these two ideas as
two questions which need separate discussion and inquiry. Recognition will no doubt take place in both
these ways, just as it does in this world.  We love to
look at the other world as having the same social features as this; and there is no Scripture and no reason
that forbids it.  We  shall doubtless be more surprised
to find the social aspects of the other life so much like
this, than we shall be to find it so different.
In those "heavenly pastimes," we may suppose some
sudden and joyful surprises, in cases where one shall
at once recognize his friends, and he not be at once
recognized by them. Kindred may meet, as the sons
of Jacob met Joseph in Egypt, and, while regarding
each other as strangers, a sudden joyful melting of
hearts may be produced by some such expression as"I am Joseph your brother!"  Again, there may be
meetings in which a gradual recognition will take place,
like that of the two disciples who fell in with Christ,
after his resurrection, on their way to Emmaus.   At
first when he joined himself to their company, their
"eyes were holden" that they did not know Him;  but
after some conversation with them by the way, in which
he entered into the subject of their thoughts in regard
69 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
to " the things which had happened at Jerusalem," and
especially after they came to Emmaus, while he sat at
mneat with them, and "took bread, and blessed it, and
brake, and gave to them," which brought to their minds
the scene of the last supper, behold! "their eyes were
opened, and  they knew HIim!'   Here, associations
gradually waked up in their minds and hearts the remembrance of their Lord, and with these returned to
their recollection his familiar features.  So in the hleavenly world, beyond doubt, there will be a great variety
of ways in which old associations and acquaintanceships
will be revived; some sudden and joyful to ecstacyothers gradual, but none the less pleasant on that account. Some may take place through the kind ministry of friendly angels, and others through the affectionate agency of saintly spirits. In whatever way,
and by whatever means it may take place, it is in entire accordance with reason, and just what we might
suppose to be natural and proper to that social kingdom in our Father's house, in the everlasting home of
the Sainted Dead.
In considering farther, and more particularly, the
reasonableness of this doctrine, we do not intend to
confine ourselves to deduction of pure reason, but shall
present such inferences and conclusions as may be legitimately drawn from known facts, whether in Scripture
or experience. It must be remembered that reason at
present lives in the light of revelation, and must be so
viewed. From some truths revealed in the Scriptures,
though not directly on this subject, we may nevertheless deduce arguments in favor of this doctrine, which
show it to be so reasonable as strongly to prepossess
70 
IN THE LIGHIIT OF REASON.
our mindls towards it. This will be of vast account inr
the way of preparing our minds to consider it in its
scriptural light.
I. This doctrine of future recognition is reasonable,
because many of the same means which will enable us
to identify ourselves in another life, will also enable us
to identify our friends and former acquaintances.
When we awake from the swoon or sleep of death,
or emerge through the change of death into the realities, circumstances, and affinities of another life, we
suppose our first feeling will be that of consciousness
of our own identity. We will feel and be conscious
that we are ourselves, and not another.  This we can
only do in connection with our past history. It may
be the work of an instant; but still it involves a process by which the mind connects itself with what is
past, and recollects its previous existence.  Thus, for
instance, we spend a night in the house of a friend;
we wake in the morning suddenly, and scarcely know
where we are, or who we are. The mind at once enters upon a process of discovery by self-recollection:
to do this, it goes back and calls up its past history,
remembers the way in which it has come, and, soon,
full consciousness of itself and its relations is restored.
So, in the other world, after the change of death, a
consciousness of identity must in some such way be
continued.  Suppose, however, that in the case of the
person just instanced, sleeping in the house of his
friend, the room should be furnished in a certain way
when he lay down to sleep, and the furniture should be
entirely removed and changed while he slept; the diffliculty in coming to a consciousness of his identity would
71 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
be greatly increased.   In that case it would be necessary for him to depend upon pure recollection of the
past in the way of thought and memory.   This must
be the ease with our souls passing the change of death
we will find ourselves in new relations, circumstances,
and affinities; and our consciousness of personal identity can continue only as it feels itself the living continuation of the past.   This life, with its associations,
must come up before the mind and awake in the heart;
and with this must appear our friends with vlwhom we
were bound uip on earth by social ties and relations.
Undoubtedly our social relations and dependences-for
it was these that, more than anything else, moulded
our life-must stand out in prominence among our first
recollections, after we have passed the physical transformation which awaits us in death.  This forms at
least a reasonable basis for the doctrine under contemplation; nothing can well be more reasonable.   Its
denial, under this view, involves a violence so unheardof and unnatural, that our reason is startled and distressed at the thought of it.
II. Closely allied to the above observations, is the
fact that memory will continue in another life.
That this world is remembered in the world to come,
is evident from the example of the rich man to whom
father Abraham said those piercing words, "Son, remember that thou in thy life-time!"   We are told that
he did remember his "father's house," and his "five
brethren!"  This, it is true, was in the place of the
lost; but memory being a noble faculty when rightly
used, we may safely believe, with additional reasons,
that it will continue among those who "shall know as
72 
IN THE LIGHT OF REASON.
they are known."*  "However, I may  affirm for an
infallible truth," says the pious and learned Rev.
Charles Drelincourt, of Paris, "that the glory of leaven, as well as grace, shall bring nature to perfection,
but shall not destroy it. It shall add to it other excellences, but it shall not take away those that it hath
already. It shall not abolish any of the faculties; but
it shall beautify and enrich them with new ornaments.
Therefore, consequently, it shall not take away our
memory, which is one of the rarest gifts and abilities
of the reasonable soul."
It is hard to see how memory can exist in the better
world without leading to recognition. How deep-seated
and precious are old associations! and how strong is
our desire that they may be revived!  Our friends,
from a previous knowledge of their piety, and impelled
by our affection for them, will be sought after; which,
we may reasonably conclude, will lead to the restoration of them to us, and us to them. Desire after our
friends is among the first emotions of our souls when
away from them in a new country. Especially, when
we are happy and they are in circumstances less blest,
do we think of them.   Our love to them naturally begets this feeling. We think of them, inquire after
them, and long for their presence with us, that they
may share our blessedness. We cannot conceive how
memory can continue in heaven without leading to such
results.  Thus, we will not only remember this world
as a means by wvhich our identity is preserved; but we
csee also that there is a principle in our nature which
strongly urges our thoughts backward, and sets them
*See "Heaven, or the Sainted Dead," pp. 276-282.
7
73 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
to seeking for those loved and left behind.  All this,s
favorable to future recognition; and, that it is true, is
the most reasonable conclusion we can arrive at.  Tho
opposite is certainly against reason and all experience.
III. This doctrine will appear reasonable when we
consider how deeply and radically the social law lies
imbedded in our nature.
We are created social beings, and it is in no sense
good for man to be alone. We are all by nature, and
in our constitution, physical, intellectual, and moral,
united, related, and dependent. All disorganization
and alienation is the result of sin, and in the highest
degree violent and unnatural.  This piety seeks to restore, whose nature and object is, to unite and bind.
Christianity, coming from above into a world spoiled
by the divisions which sin has caused, establishes a
fellowship which is to unite us on earth, and then to
raise us, thus united, into the upper kingdom of holy
and eternal love.  It is not reasonable that religion
should form ties to be broken at death, when it comes
from heaven and designs to raise us to heaven.  What
grace makes, is to last for ever-what grace binds, is
never to be severed.
We know, moreover, that religion elevates, improves,
sanctifies, and perfects true friendship.  Does it do
this only that death may destroy it?  Ah! who can
believe it?  On the contrary, time only increases true
attachments.  In connection with the past, true friendship lives.  The hallowed associations which connect it
with the past are its life and its joy. Memory is the
fuel of love. Old and long-remembered associations
give to it its mystic sacredness.  As the recollections
?I' 4 
IN THE LIGHT OF REASON.
Df childhood always awaken youthful feelings in our
hearts, so the remembrance of the past gives a fresh
glow and a lovely tenderness to social ties. How then
can true love die?   Our  nature must be entirely
changed before its affections can cease.
If such be our social nature, it is certainly not reasonable that it, unfolded through life under these sweet
relations and dependencies of earthly friendship and
love, should be suddenly robbed of them in the transition of death. This would be a violence which is nowhere tolerated in the laws of life and love. We will
venture the assertion that there is no law more essential to our existence, and which may not with less danger be laid aside, than this social law of love. A being
that can break loose from all former ties and affectionate affinities, is that moment changed into a devil! As
"God is love," and as all his attributes are connected
and controlled by this -the very essence of his nature
-so we, who are made in his image, are social beings
necessarily. The kingdom of Christ exists on earth
to redeem, preserve, and perfect our social nature, and
reveal the nature of God in us; all the beginnings of
it on earth are, therefore, beginnings of its heavenly
perfection.   The  very  establishment  and perpetuation of Christianity on earth has been, from the first,
by families, tribes, and generations; thus it laid hold
of, and took up into itself at once, the elements of the
world's social life, and used them in its own advancement; and it will not, it cannot, we think, cast them
off in its heavenly glorification. Hence we see that
Christianity, in its very essence, identifies itself with
the social law and life of our nature, and makes them
75 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
eterna], by making itself eternal in them. If this be
so, then the ties here formed, so far as they are sanetified by Christianity, will continue uninterrupted
through death, and be eternally perfecting in heaven.
Moreover, we know that some of the prominent ties
and relations formed in the kingdom of Christ on the
earth will be perpetuated. For this we have scripture
proof. Christ's apostles shall sit together as judges of
the twelve tribes of Israel. As to himself, his people
shall see him as he is, face to face. Is it unreasonable,
nay, is it not in the highest degree reasonable, that
this recognition shall descend from these prominent
points down into the minuter avenues and lanes of the
social life of heaven?  "Will not Hie who' loved Lazarus,' and who said,' Our friend Lazarus sleepeth,' be
recognised by Lazarus in the better world? and if he
recognise his Saviour, why not also his sisters, Martha
and Mary? And will not'the disciple whom Jesus
loved,' that bosom friend, recognise his Lord and Master? and if so, why not all those who sat at meat with
him, when he affectionately reclined on his Redeemer?"
Certainly all this is reasonable. It is difficult to see
how it can be otherwise. It is much easier to believe
it true than false.
IV. Death sometimes makes interruptions in the
process of things which seem, in the nature of things,
to require completion in a future life; which, however,
can only be done by recognition.
We are, for instance, often blest in this world by a
person who may never know that he has blessed us; we
may be prevented, by circumstances of some kind or
other, from making known to him our gratitude. Is it
76 
IN THIIE LIGHT OF REASON.
not then, exceedingly probable that, in a futurie lifc,
opportunity will be afforded us to acknowledge the
favor with gratitude, by which both his and our orwn
happiness would be greatly augmented? In the case
of the philanthropist, it seems necessary, in order to
his being rewarded according to his works, that the
fruits of his labors, as they exhibited themselves unknown to him, in the happiness and salvation of others
should be brought to his view, either by God or by the
persons blessed; that, as part of his reward, he may
review with holy satisfaction the good he has been enabled by grace to perform while on earth. This, it
seems reasonable to believe, would lead to the reviving
of earthly relations and associations, and thus gradually to recognition, and a renewal of former earthly
acquaintance.
This is the more probable, as gratitude, in the heart
of the one who receives favors, naturally produces in
him a desire to express his feelings to the one who has
blessed him. In the case where an individual is indebted for even the salvation of his soul to the instrumentality of one whom he is never afterwards privileged
to see, will he not desire to meet him in heaven?  This
(lesire will naturally lead to a search after him, and, we
may well suppose, to a meeting, and to mutual joy.
What joyful meetings of this kind may take place in
the heavenly world!  With raptures inexpressible will
those who have turned others to righteousness, find
them again in the heavenly places, as their hope, their
joy, and crown of rejoicing.
V The final judgment necessarily involves details
7*
77 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
of acts of persons inseparably associated mith each
other, so as to lead naturally to recognition.
All our good deeds are of a social kind -a great
many of our good acts are so connected with the acts
of others, and their influences are so merged into each
other, that even we ourselves cannot trace our own acts
in all their consequences. We influence others, and
they us. All the sins against the second table of the
law are social sins, and cannot be referred to, in the
judgment, without reference to all parties involved and
implicated.  So also the virtues of the second table
are social virtues, and must be so disposed of, in the
rewards of the judgment. Thus, in their reward, they
must be associated with the persons judged, as they
were associated on the earth. The judgment by which
these acts are rewarded must have reference to these
acts in their social character and connections. Thus,
faithfulness of parents in their family duties - faithfulness on the part of the members of a congregation towards each other, and in the community generally
makes the recollection and recognition of those thus
associated absolutely necessary, in the proceedings of
that great day. Though the influences of social acts
may be lost to us in the details of their silent, and ofttimes secret consequences, yet "every mnan's work shall
be made manifest: for the day shall declare it." We
know that if the giving of a cup of cold water in the name
of a disciple is rewarded in heaven, it will be done with
such a reference to the saint who received the draught
as will enable the one who is rewarded to recognise him.
How this fact will swell the little kindnesses of earth
PI 8 
IN THE LIGIIT OF REASON.
to an exceeding weight of glory in heaven!  The sensations of joy which the remembrance of such acts will
produce, are not too mean to excite into higher raptures of bliss even the holy bosoms of the saints in
light.
VI. The doctrine of heavenly recognition is highly
reasonable to us, when we consider the ground we have
for believing that our knowledge in the future world
will be vastly enlarged in a general way, and of course
in this respect in particular.
That our minds will be greatly enlarged in the future
life, none can reasonably doubt.  It is a matter of express revelation.   "For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.  But when that which is perfect is come,
then that which is in part shall be done away. When
I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a
child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man,
I put away childish things. For now we see through
a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in
part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."
1 Cor. xiii. 9-13.  The apostle's declaration, "It is
sown in weakness, it is raised in power," is as much
applicable to the soul as to the body.   Sin has greatly
obscured the mind, and partially deadened its faculties.
As the Israelites could not sing in a strange land, so
the human faculties cannot act with freedom and energy in the captivity of sin, and in their alienation
from God; but when brought home into their proper
relation to Him, they will expand into new bloom of
beauty and life.  In those genial climes of cloudless
day, they will unfold themselves without obstruction,
and without end.  There, where the heart 3hal] be
79 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
pure, the mind will become clear.  In the society of
angels and pure spirits, and near the radiant source
of all wisdom and knowledge, the human mind will,
like God himself, clothe itself with light as with a
garment.
It is certainly unreasonable to imagine, that while
the soul makes new attainments in knowledge, it will
lose and leave behind what it has already attained.
Our present knowledge, so far as consistent with the
divine will and wisdom, will not be destroyed, but taken
up and included in our future knowledge. It is not
reasonable to believe, that the attainments we have
made in this life, should give us no advantage in the
beginning of the life to come. This would make all
our earthly tuition of no avail, and needless. If, then,
our knowledge will increase in general, it must also
increase in particular; and if our present knowledge
will not be destroyed, but merged and included in the
higher wisdom of our eternal state, it will most assuredly
bear along with it that particular knowledge which is
associated with the heavenly recognition of our sainted
friends.
In this view, the.re A a good deal of sense and sound
reason in the quaint and pleasant anecdote which has
often been related of an old Welsh divine. One day,
while pursuing his studies, his wife being in the room,
she suddenly interrupted him, "John Evans, do you
think we shall be known to each other in heaven?"
AVithfJut hesitatio:n, he replied, "To be sure we shall;
do you think we shall be greater fools there, than we
are here?" It is certainly far from wise to suppose,
that it will be part of the perfection of our future state
80 
IN TIIE LIGIIT OF REASON.
to lose that knowledge which we now have, so far as it
involves no immorality.
VII. The interest which heavenly beings feel in the
affairs of saints on earth, furnishes us reasonable ground
for the belief in heavenly recognition.
There is no difficulty in believing that, on the part
of saints in heaven, an acquaintance with us is kept
up.  We have lost them for a time, but they have not
lost us. As they have gone higher, they have capacities and privileges which we, who are still beneath
them, have not; and this may extend to a constant
oversight and interest in us.* This sense is as natural
as any other to the passage, "Then shall I know even
as also I am known." We are now known to them;
but when we enter the state in which they now are,
then shall we know them as they now know us.   The
Old Testament saints are represented as a cloud of
witnesses around us, like the crowd which bent down
from all sides upon the race-ground in the Olympic
games. According to this allusion of the Apostle, they
are around us, not merely as examples, but as interested
spectators.  That we are not conscious of this, does
not prove its improbability; for the lower orders of
nature that are beneath us are not aware of our perfect
knowledge of them, neither do they know us, and yet
we know them- their nature, hlabits, prospects, and
destiny. In like manner, we have reason, and also
intimations of Scripture, to confirm in us the belief
that our sainted friends are bending an interested eye
of love over us in all our earthly pilgrimage -that
they keep up a tender and affectionate acquaintance
* See "Heaven, or the Sainted Dead," third edition, p. 282, et seq
81 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
with us, and stand ready, when we fail on earth, to
receive us into the arms of holy and eternal love, at
the very gates of the heavenly paradise. Or must we
believe that they are less interested in us than the rich
man in hell was for his five brethren!
Even if the saints do not, and cannot behold and
follow us with personal attention, they can still keep
up an acquaintance with us, in our earthly history,
through the angels. Angels are the constant companions of the blest in heaven; and they are also upon
the earth, "ministering spirits, sent forth to minister
for them who shall be heirs of salvation." In heaven
they "do always behold the face" of our Father; and
on earth they "encamp around our dwellings," and
attend us, to "keep us in all our ways."  As on
Jacob's mystic ladder, they are constantly descending
from heaven to earth, and ascending from earth to
heaven; thus keeping alive the fellowship of love on
both sides of the mysterious veil!
Can we for a moment believe that, if the saints above
are still interested in us, there are no inquiries of returning angels in regard to us, and that our sainted
friends do not thus keep themselves informed as to our
state and life? It is not only said that angels themselves are interested in saints on earth, but that "there
is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one
sinner that repenteth." Who are these that rejoice in
the presence of the angels over a converted sinner?
Are they not the sainted friends of the sinner? they
who, while on earth, often prayed for his conversion,
and in remembrance of whose faith, and in answer to
whose prayers, God has now sent forth to him His
82 
IN THE LIGIIT OF rEASON.
converting grace?  Our relation with the spirit-world,
and our participation in its sympathies, is most intimate and endearing; it is only the benumbing influence
of dull sense that keeps us from feeling it.  The very
reverence which we feel towards the unseen spirits of
the dead, proclaims the power of their influence over
us. Though this feeling is dark and unintelligible to
us, it is not so to them. We live in the midst, and
under the constant power, of mysterious unseen influences, which strongly declare the fact, that we are in
a sphere of existence influenced by a higher world, and
under the attention of higher intelligences, who are
ever drawing us to themselves; and, soon as the separation of soul and body- the natural and finite from
the spiritual and infinite-shall take place in death,
we shall discover at once how awfully and sweetly near
we have always been to the dead, and how much we
shared in their affectionate sympathies. It is only
when the infant becomes a man, that it fully sees and
knows what the mother's eyes, arms, and bosom, were
to it, during its years of infantile helplessness.  So,
when our spirits once break through the thin veil of
this imperfect earthly life, which hides the world of
spirits, into the full stature of celestial manhood, they
will only fully understand those influences, the good
of which they have always felt. If such is the relation, and such the mutual sympathies between heaven
and earth, it is in the highest degree reasonable, that
the holy ties of earthly affections pass unbroken through
the change of death, and revive with new strength and
beauty in the upper kingdom of love.
83 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNJTION
We take great pleasure in the conclusions to which
these reflections bring us. We delight greatly in the
hope that the ties which bind us to our sainted friends
are not broken in death- that while we are loving
them still, they love us too; and while we long to find
them again, they are watching with holy interest over
us, and are alluring us, by sweet mysterious influences,
into their holy society, and into a participation, with
them, of celestial joys.  Seeing we are compassed about
Fith so great a cloud of witnesses, we are animated to
lay aside every weight-even that of the body itself in
death-that we may fly to their embraces, and be near
them, as they are near the Lord.
84 
AMONG  TIE JEWS.
CHAPTER V.
't3rvf lqt _Trrnguitinu  nnItng  tht 5Sta.
O l, wondrous times! - those palmy days of old;hN'ijen God with prophets spake, and angels walk'd
With men-when heaven, with mild and radiant eye,
Through dreams, and types, and shadowy visions look'd,
And smniled on all who sought a better life.
Though darkly hung the mystic veil that hid
The better world; yet, through it, faith behleld,
On the celestial side, the lovely forms
Of sainted friends in blessed pastimes move.
They mourn'd, but still in hope, for those beyond;
And, smiiling through their tears, in meekness said,
They cannot come to us, but we shall go
To them.
WE have discovered some beautiful glimmerings of
this interesting doctrine of future recognition in tlhe
midst of pagan gloom.   We have seen that it is a universal belief, hope and desire. We have also seen that
it is in accordance with the dictates of enlightened
reason.  We come now to view it in the lovely religious
twilight of Jewish hope.
It is agreed upon, by all who have earnestly reflected upon the subject, that all religious ideas among
pagans may be traced back, through dim and misty
tradition, to the Jews, to whom alone spiritual revela
8
85 
IIEAVENLY RECOGCNITION
tions were anciently made.   The report of these reve
lations, though only in fGint and feeble echlo, reached
the surrounding pagans, and waked up their hearts
and minds to a sense of their wants. Around the
abodes of the Patriarchs, Prophets, and Jewish people
generally, the holy light of heaven shone; and though
there appears also at times to be light out in the deep
gloom, it is but a reflection: just as there are bright
objects on the earth, though the sun is the source of
their light.  If, then, we are to trace the rays of light,
which dart broken through the gloom of pagan night,
to the sun of revelation, as it arose over the Jewish
people, we may expect to find an increase of liglht
upon this subject in Jewish ideas and theology.  True,
even here we expect to find this doctrine only obscurely,
as the Jewish dispensation was one of hope-the dawn
of the eternal morning. Yet we do well to look to
this, as "a light that shineth into a dark place, until
the day-dawn  and the day-star ariseth in our hearts."
Although it is shadow, and not substance, yet the shldow always gives us a correct idea of the substance,
even if it be only a partial one; though it be only
prophecy of what shall be, it is sure prophecy, and will
lead us to a complete fulfilment.  If we follow the
smallest, feeblest rill, that rises in the remotest anti
most obscure vale of earth, it will lead us finally to the
great and wide sea-it is water, small as it is; so, if
we seize upon the feeblest ray of light that catches our
eye in the surrounding gloom, and follow it, we come
at length to the full, clear, and unclouded truth.
W'e shall see, I trust, in this inquiry into the Jewish
ideas of recognition in another life, that the doctrina
86 
AMIONG THIE JEWS.
will present itself with additional clearness, preciousness and beauty, as we proceed.   By tracing the doctrine in this historical way, it will not only seem more
living, but also more convincing; we will be carried
along by gradual degrees of evidence, and our path,
like that of the just man, will shine more anl more
unto the perfect day.
Before we proceed to offer the proof, that the Jews
believed in the doctrine of heavenly recognition, a few
preparatory remarks are necessary, to open the subject
properly before us. Some have strangely pretended
to doubt, whether the Jews knew anything at all of
another life. That their ideas on this subject were as
clear and full as ours, no one will pretend; but that
they had many consoling views of an immortal life,
none can deny.  The doctrine of immortality, like that
of the existence of God, is taken for granted in the
Old Testament. Rewards and punishments, the hopes
and fears of the future, the eternal favour or displeasure of God, were evidently as familiar ideas among
the Jews as every-day matters.  As the doctrine of
another life was thus taken for granted, it is rather indirectly alluded to, than directly stated. The Patriarchs
and Prophets no doubt knew much more of this doctrine
than is mentioned in the sacred record.  God, for instance, told our first parents that if they ate of the
forbidden tree, they should surely die, in that day. As
they did not die a natural or temporal death immediately, it seems necessary, in order that they might
know at all that the penalty had actually fallen upon
them, that they should know something of a spiritual
and eternal death. This they could not know without
87 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
the doctrine of immortality. The translation of Enoch
and Elijah could mean nothing to them without the
knowledge of another life. Noah could not have acted
the part recorded of him without reference to a recompense of reward; for, how could he be a "preacher of
righteousness," without having some motive to present
from another world, or without exhibiting the "end of
righteousness, which is quietness and assurance for
ever?" The whole, moreover, is decided by Paul, who
tells us that what Noah and the Patriarchs did, they
did "by faith." Faith itself implies the knowledge of
a future life, for it is "the substance of things hoped
for, the evidence of things not seen." To say, then,
that any of the Old Testament saints had faith, is to
say that they believed in the unseen realities of another
life.
Our present design does not require us to pursue
this part of the subject any farther.  We  may add,
that if what has been said does not satisfy the reader
on this point, he may consult the following passages
of Scripture, and see whether he can afterwards doubt
that the Jews knew of, and believed in, a future life.
2 Kings ii. 1-8.  Job xix. 25-28.   Psalms xvi. 10;
xvii. 15; xlix. 15; lxxiii. 24-26.  Eccl. xii. 7, 14.
Isaiah xxvi. 19. Ezek. xxxvii. 1-10.  Dan. xii. 1-3.
Christ himself declares that Moses knew that the dead
are raised. Luke xx. 38. Paul says that Abraham,
and a host of others, looked for an heavenly country.
HIleb. xi.
This much it was necessary to say, that all doubt on
this point may be removed, and that we may be convinced that the Old Testament saints felt themselves
88 
AM10N'G TIIE JEWVS.
in close, wvarm, and living sympathy with the unseen
and eternal world.  Under the power and influence of
this impression we will be able to see more force than
we could otherwise do, in the proofs which we intend
to present in favour of their belief in future heavenly
recognition.   It is plain, that the doctrine of another
life could not have been so prominently before their
mninds, and so warmly in their hearts, without inducing
them to be much exercised with the interesting question, whether they should meet and recognise their
friends there, and renew again the affections of earth.
Especially would their belief in the resurrection of the
body naturally lead them to this inquiry. That they
did think of it, believe in it, and console themselves
with it in bereavement and sorrow at the death of their
fiiends, is evident from several considerations to which
we will now attend.
I. The pious care and  tffection with which the Jews
treated the bodies of their beloved dead, points us
strongly to their belief in perpetuated love and final
reunion in heaven.
If they did not expect to follow the departed throughl
the grave-if they did not believe that their bodies
should be revived again, and be returned to their embraces inhabited by the souls of their friends, why did
they preserve, like a precious treasure, with such devout affection, their lifeless bodies? Look, for instance,
at the tender and affecting appeal of Abraham to the
sons of Heth, after the death of Sarah his wife, for
the field and cave of iMachpelah in the land in which
he sojourned, as a burying,-place for his dead.   They
-fered to him "the choice of their sepulchres," but he
811) 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
politely, yet decidedly, declined.  Ite wished to pur..
chase the field with money "for a possession" —he
wished to have it "made  sure for a burying-place."
lie desired a place as hi8 owtn, which he might consecrate as a place of repose for his dead in all coming
time. His soul shuddered at the thought of committing
such a treasure as the remains of his departed wife to
the sepulchres of HIeth, where he could not himself
exercise a devout watch over them. Amid the green
and rural scenes of Machpelah- for "all the trees
that were in the field, and in aill the borders round
about, were made sure"- he would have her body to
rest, in token of his belief that she still lived in the
ever-green bowers of Paradise; that he still stood in
living communion with her; and that he expected to
see her again in that world where death is unknown.
Ie desired that the glorious renovation which each returning spring-time effected, amid the rural scenes of
Maehpelah, might be to him a sweet pledge of that
new and eternal life which should once awake from her
tomb, and an earnest of the revival of those affectionate
ties which had been but temporarily sundered by death.
The conduct of the pious and mourning Patriarch,
in this whole transaction, is very significant when carefully studied.  There were the "choice sepulehres of
the Ilittites offered to him, in which to bury his beloved
Sarah; but how, in that ease, could he have been assured that her bones would lie till the final day in
peace? As once in Egypt another king arose which
knew not Joseph, who did evil to Israel; so, in the
land of the Hittites, another generation would soon
arise, who would n.ot know Abraham, and would show
90 
AMONG TIlE JEWS.
no respect for his dead. HIow too, if he buried in their
sel)ulchres, could he be assured that he would be permitted one day to lie by her side in death? Above all,
how could he then visit her grave in quiet, as Mary
did the grave of her Lord, undisturbed and unseen by
the cold world, to shed the silent tear of affection to
her memory, and refresh his sorrowing heart with the
hope of speedy reunion in heaven?  No wonder that
he insisted on having it as his own: -" For as much
money as it is worth ye shall give it me, for a possession of a burying-place among you."
This is but an instance of the general tenderness
and affection which the Jews in all ages manifested towards the remains of their kindred dead.  That the
same feeling was sacredly cherished among the Jews
in later ages is evident from a beautiful passage in
Ececlesiasticus, an apocryphal book written about three
hundred years before Christ. Chap. xxxviii. 16. " My
son, let tears fall down over the dead, and begin to
lament, as if thou hadst suffered great harm thyself;
and then cover his body according to the custom, and
neglect not his burial." For another beautiful exhibition of this feeling, read Tobit i. 17-21;  ii. 1-9.
The same may also be seen from the well-known customs of embalming their bodies, and of giving them
decent and respectable burial.   It certainly speaks
strongly of their belief that the dead were still theirs;
that the tie was not finally and for ever broken; and
that the grave, which they watched and watered with
the tears of continued affection, would yet yield back
to them their beloved dead.
II. The strong desire, which reigned in the hearts
ol 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
of the Old Testament saints, to be buried together
with their kindred in the same place, is also a proof
that they believed in a perpetuated union with their
friends through death in a future life.
They had lived together in life; they wished to lie
together in death; to rise together in the resurrection,
and to dwell together in everlasting habitations. How
significant and affecting is the dying request of Jacob!
"And the time drew nigh that Israel must die: and
he called his son Joseph, and said unto him, If now I
have found grace in thy sight, put, I pray thee, thy
hand under my thigh and deal kindly and truly with
me; bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt: but I will
lie with my fathers, and thou shalt carry me out of
Egypt, and bury me in their burying place."* Afterwards he made the same request of all his sons, standing together around his dying couch:  "And  when
Jacob made an end of commanding his sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost,
and was gathered unto his people."t
What a moving scene!  Are you a painter-  can
you throw it upon canvass? Are you a poet -can
you describe it?  Have you refined Christian sensibilities - can you feel it? Can you think that the
dying Patriarch, thus commending  his body to the
care of his sons under the solemnity of an oath, and
desiring so affectingly to be buried with his fathers,
believed this to be an eternal separation from them?
No.  HIe felt that their communion was unbroken, and
hlie wished that their bodies might sleep side by side,
io that when their souls and bodies should be reunited,
* Ge. li.290.          ~         e. -lx  3
1,-)2
t Gen. xlix. 3'.. 
AMONG THE JEWS.
they might be "raised up together," with their Redeemer in the air, "and so be ever with the Lord."
The same feeling had reigned in the heart of pious
Abraham, the father of the faithful. He had this in
his mind when he purchased Machpelah. Hie did not
need so large a piece of ground for Sarah alone.  Ite
wished that field to become the family burial-place for
his posterity in time to come, that all who proceeded
from his loins might lie around him in the peaceful
arms of death, and awake with him in the resurrection
morn. In this he succeeded. When he himself died,
it is particularly mentioned that he was buried in the
same place.  "His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him
in the cave of MIachpelah, in the field of Ephron, the
son of Zohar the Hittite, which is before Mamre; the
field which Abraham purchased of the sons of Heth:
there was Abraham buried, and Sarah his wife."*
In this same spot Jacob was afterwards buried by
his own earnest request, together with many other
members of the Patriarchal families.  Listen! "I am
to be gathered to my people," says dying Israel; "bury
me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of
Mlachpelah, which is before Mamre, in the land of
Canaan, which Abraham bought with the field of
Ephron the Hittite, for a. possession of a burying,place." How particularly he describes it, that they
may not be mistaken as to the spot! Then how affectingly, in the next verse, he gives the reason why he
desires to lie in that place! "There they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac and
Rebekah his wife; and there I buried Leah!"t What
t Gen. lxix. 29, 31.
93
* Gen. v. 9, 10. 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
a touching request-what a moving reason!  Why
this desire which they felt, and which all more or less
feel. of being buried with parents, grand-parents, wives,
brothers, sisters, and near kindred, if it does not indicate the belief that there is also a fellowship among
the dead? that if we follow the leadings of these instinctive emotions of nature, they will bring us again
to those whom death has hid, but not taken away
from us?
What lovely associations are these which cluster
around the sacred shades of MAachpelah! The future
history of this burying-place of kindred seems strikingly
to shadow forth the eternal union of its silent sleepers.
It is stated by Josephus, fifty years after Christ, that
in his day this place was still in good repair-that the
posterity of Abraham erected splendid sepulchres there,
which were, when he wrote, still to be seen.  Mention
is also made of this place by Eusebius and Jerome,
and also by other church fathers, down as late as the
eighth century. Even at this day the sepulchres of
the Patriarchs are shown to the pilgrims in the Hloly
Land, by the monks on HIebron; and so well do all
the circumstances agree with Scripture notices, that
travellers, the most intelligent, see no reason to doubt
that the tombs they behold are those of the Patriarchs
who were buried in Machpelah over four thousand years
ago.  "I know nothing," says the learned Dr. Robinson, who visited the place in 1838, "that should lead
us to question the correctness of the tradition, which
regards this as the place of sepulchre of Abraham and
the other Patriarchs, as recorded in the book of Genesis. On the contrary, there is much to strengthen it."
94 
ASIONG THE JEWS.
Where are ilow the "choice sepulchres" of the littites? Alas! there is no trace of them to be seen.
The memory of the wicked shall rot; there lingers no
living  savor of hope around the place where they lie.
Not so with Abraham's field and the cave in it; they
are s    til l before Hebron as they were in the morning of
the world; and the pious pilgrim may still stand besido
the sacred patriarchal tombs, in silent and reverential
wonder, while his heart exclaims
How many, many memories
Sweep o'er lmy spirit now!
Say, what means this fellowship of the dead? Shall
their sleeping dust be drawn to one place by their love
for each other, and remain thus undivided for ages?
and shall their spirits, by whose affectionate care and
desire this union of dust with dust was effected, be
now and for ever separate from each other, and revive
no more their former love? Who can believe it? What
we see on earth of the history of their bodies is a true
prophecy of the history of their spirits in heaven. They
believed that their spirits would still be in each other's
society above, which led them to desire that their bodies, under the promise of a blessed resurrection, should
sleep the short intervening night together till the da,wn
of that eternal day, when not only the kindred of the
patriarchs, but the saints of all ages and nations,
" shall come from the east and west, and sllUll sit down
with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom
of heaven."
This affection for klindred, whichl manifested itself
llq 5 
IEAVENLY RECOGNITION
thus in life and in death, was not wholly instinctive;
it was encouraged and cultivated by their religion. The
Jewish religion was a family religion - the Christian
religion is the same; it places our kindred nearest to
us.  It respected and used the ties of kindred in extending the covenant and its blessings to whole families
in their character as families.  It sanctified and perfected fiamily love.  This would naturally encourage
them to hope that these ties should live, and remain in
delightful force beyond this life, and be resumed in the
recognition of the heavenly state.  If then this, and
the future life, are related to each other as seeding and
harvest, we may safely take this custom of burying
together, as indicating their belief in the perpetuation
of earthly ties through the dissolution of the tomb.
This desire to be buried by the side of those we love
is not a dark morbid superstition, which passes away
before enlightened and refined Christian feeling. It is
as strong in Christian hearts as it was in Jewish-and
strongest of all with those  whom  piety itself has
taught to love their friends more than they could, or
would, otherwise have done.   We all more or less feel
its power. The family burial-ground has associations
even to us, which make the idea of death less dreary;
and there is, perhaps, no one to be found, who, if he
can have his choice, would not rather lie at last in the
silent circle of his kindred, than to be buried among
strangers in a distant land. Amid the loneliness which
steals over the spirit at the approach of death, comes
also the desire, so plaintively expressed by Jacob: -
" I will lie with my fathers - bury me in their buryirg-place!"
96 
AMONG  TilE  JEWS.
There is a beautiful instance of this, beautifully related by Mrs. Sigourney, of a little girl, who expressed
a desire that she might lie with her mother, of which
she would not be denied.
There was a shaded chamber,
A silent, watching band;
On a low couch a suffering child
VWho grasped her mother's hand.
She told her faith in Jesus  Her simple prayer was said,
And now that darkened vale she trod
Which leadeth to the dead.
Red fever scorched her bosom  Frost chilled the vital flame,
And hler sweet brow was troubled,
As anguish smote her franie.
Yet'mid the gasp and struggle,
With shuddering lips she cried,
" 0 mother, dearest mother,
Bury me by your side!"
Shle was then asked in what place she would lie-whole
thier in thie "shady dell," where the early violets bloom,
or in the "ancient church-yard," among the "white
marble monuments."  But all ideas of place faded
before the one all-absorbing idea: "Bury me by your
sidle. "
One only wish she uttered,
While life was ebbing fast, "Sleep by my side, dear mother,
And rise with mie at last."
9
97 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Thus she persisted-and the nearer she drew to her
end, the rWore ardent became this dying wish.  It was
the last request that trembled upon her tongue!
Look! Look! -the thin lip quivers,
The blue eyes open wide,
And wnat a hollow whisper steals,  "' UItt ME BY YOUR SIDE!"
HIow natural do we feel this to be? It is nothing else
but the consciousness of a continued fellowship, which
shrinks back with deep instinctive dread at the thought
of final separation.  It is the spirit, uttering its protest,-declaring that the dissolution of the body shall
not affect the ties of the soul; and, on the other hand,
it is the final protest of the body, asking that its interest in this eternal fellowship may not be forgottenand that, in the mean time, it may be permitted to
mingle with its kindred dust.
IIL That the Jews expected to meet and know each
other in the heavenly world, is also evident from the
manner in which they usually spake of the death of
their friends - that they were "gathered to their fathers," or "gathered to their people."
"Then Abraham gave up the ghost, and died in a
good old age, an old man, and full of years, and was
gathered to his people." The language is exceedingly
beautiful, tender, and consoling, and points to this
precious faith. It cannot mean that his body was ga
thered to his forefathers, for some of them lived and
died in Ur of the Chaldees; Terah, his father, died in
HIaran, (Gen. xi. 32,) and was no doubt buried there.
Abraham himself, as we have seen, was buried in
93 
AMONG THE JEWS.
Machpelah in Canaan, and Sarah his wife was the first
of the sacred families buried there; for he only purchased it at her death. Gen. xxiii. 19. Neither can
the expression, "gathered to his people," be intended
to express, in general, the idea that he was gathered
with the dead; for the language is particular, that he
was gathered to his people. That it cannot mean simply that he was laid in the grave with the rest of the
dead, is also evident, from the fact that after it is said
he was gathered to his people, it is added, in the next
verse: "and his sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in
the cave of Machpelah."  Hence he was gatlered to
his people before he was laid in the grave with the dead
in general. It must then be regarded as its natural
meaning, that after he died, and before he was buried,
his soul was gathered to his people, who had departed
this life before him, and who were now in that " city
which hath foundations," in that " better and heavenly
country," for which they all "looked,"  while they
"confessed themselves pilgrims and strangers on the
earth." Among these was his own Sarah!
"And Isaac gave up the ghost and died, and was
gathered unto his people, being old and full of days;
and his sons Esau and Jacob buried him." Here again
he was gathered to his people. In this, and also in
the former passage, it is most natural and correct to
take the personal "his" or he, as meaning the soul,
the highest and best part of his nature. We are told
what was done with his body- they buried that- but
he, that is, his spirit, which properly constitutes himself- which was the centre and substance of his personality- that was gathered to his people.  Moreover,
99 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
could it be said, in any true sense, that those bodies,
now turned to ashes in the tomb, constituted "his
people?" May not their spirits in heaven be so called,
with tenfold more propriety. He, then,- the living,
thinking, loving spirit of Isaac,- was gathered to his
people, who  were living, thinking, loving spirits in
heaven.
When the brethren of Joseph brought his bloody
coat to their father Jacob, and told him that "an evil
beast had devoured him," " he refused to be comforted:
and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto
my son mourning." Gen. xxxvii. 35. The word grave
(sheol) means here, not the place of burial, but the
place of departed spirits- eternity. To this place the
mourning patriarch expected to go "unto his son." It
does not mean that he would mourn there, but mourning would hasten him to that place, and that he would
mourn all the way until he came to him. His son had
gone, and he would now go on his pilgrim way in distress, until he found him in the place of departed
spirits, when he himself should die. That this is his
meaning is evident, for "all his sons and his daughters
rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted." He had loved Joseph, and had now lost sight of
him, and would now mourn till he found him again:
HIe will hear of no comfort which earth can offer. This
is his resolution: "I will go down into the grave unto
my son;" then will I be comforted, when he whom I
have lost is restored to me, and I to him.  "Thus  his
father wept for him."
That Jacob did not look for comfort merely in death,
and by going into the grave to his son, is evident from
100 
AM,IONG  TIlE  JEIWS.
tite fact that he believed him to have been torn by
wild beasts, and expected that if there was anything
of him left, it was but a few scattered fragments of his
torn body. He could not expect, then, in any sense
that had reference to his body merely, to go down
"unto his son." He would mourn, not till he was laid
by his side in death; for that, in the nature of the
case, could never be; but till his spirit met and embraced again his beloved Joseph, in those regions of
immortal life, where misfortune and death could no
more rush in between them.
"And when Jacob had made an end of commanding
his sons, he gathered up his feet into the bed, and
yielded up the ghost, and was gathered unto his people."  Gen. xlix. 33.  That this has not reference to
the patriarch's body being entombed with his people,
is evident from the fact that he was not buried till
forty days after his death. How then could it be said
that he was gathered to his people when he died, if by
this expression we understand merely his burial by
their side?  Ile had said just a little before (verse 29)
to his sons: "I am about to be gathered unto my
people: bury me with my fathers." If now, "to be
gathered to his people," is equivalent to being buried
with them in the grave, these words of Jacob, just
quoted, would be a tautological absurdity; thus: I am
about to be buried with my people: bury me with my
fathers. Who would charge the good patriarch with
uttering such meaningless words when just about to
die?  Surely there ought to be a better reason for
doing so, than just to clear out of the Bible so precious
and consoling a doctrine as the heavenly recognition.
9*
10'1 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
No. Abraham was in heaven, Isaac was there, and
now Jacob is about to be gathered to them; and after
them shall come many more, who shall come from the
east and west, and shall sit down with them in the
heavenly kingdom. Age after age the church in heaven
has received accessions, as the saints were gathered
home; and this glorious process will still continue till
the last blood-washed spirit has gone through the gates
of death into Abraham's bosom; then the hosts of the
ransomed will be "a great multitude which no man
can number."
When God sent Moses up into Mount Nebo, he said
to him, "Get thee up and die in the mount whither
thou goest up, and be gathered unto thy people, as
Aaron, thy brother, died in Mount Hor, and was gathered unto his people." Deut. xxxii. 50. Hlow can
this mean that Moses should be buried with his forefathers, when it is afterwards said that "he was buried
in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Bethpeor: but no man knowueth of his sepulchre unto this
day." Deut. xxxiv. 6.
From all these considerations, we think, it must be
evident to all, that the expression "gathered to their
people," meant, among the Jews, more than being
buried with them, and also more than passing into the
companionship of the dead in general.* It was to their
* Since the above was written, I have met with the following in
Jahn Arch, ~ 203: - The Hebrews regarded life as a journey, as a
pilgrimage on the face of the earth.   The traveller, as they supposed, when he arrived at the end of this journey, which happened
when he died, was received into the company of his ancestors, who
had gone before him. Opinions of this kind, (viz., that life is a jouraey, that death is the end of that journey, and that, when one lies,
102 
AMONG  TIIE JEWS.
people among the dead, and not to all the dead in general, that they were gathered.  It was their spirits,
of which alone society and fellowship can properly be
predicated, which were to be gathered together at death.
How could the consoling idea of heavenly recognrition be better and more beautifully expressed than
with the words "gathered to his people? gathered to
his fathers?" These household words waken up in the
heart a thousand pleasant associations of former attachments. It places departed friends in a waiting
circle around the couch of the dying, so that death
itself seems but as the gathering around us of the
arms of our sainted friends, receiving us with holy
affection's softest and most soothing embrace. With
the hope of being gathered into such a society of kindred at the moment of death, and these themselves
glad in the Saviour's smile, death will be sweeter an
softer than repose. There will be not a moment's loneliness between leaving our friends on earth and joining
them in heaven. Oh! to die thus, with the arms of
earthly and heavenly love joined beneath and around
us!  Can this be an hour of terror?  Can this be a
Jordan of chafing waves and chilling storms?  No.
Rather it is like going home.
How blest the righteous when he dies!
VWhen sinks a weary soul to rest,
How  mildly beam the closing eyes,
How  gently heaves the expiring breast!
he mingles with the hosts who have gone before,) are the origin and
ground of such phrases as the following: to be gathered to one's
people: to go to one's fathers.  This visiting of the fathers has reference to the immortal part, and is clearly distinguished from the
mere burial of the body.
103 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
So fades a summer cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies a wave along the shore!
IV. An argument in favour of the eternal reunion
of friends in heaven, may be drawn from the examples
of pure disinterested friendship recorded in the Old
Testament. Although we are not able to form from
these a direct proof, or deduce a logical and demonstrative conclusion, yet, in contemplating them, we are
so impressed with a sense of the eternal nature of true
friendship, that we mustfeel these ties to be indissoluble, even though we cannot, from this source alone,
know them to be such. We may, nevertheless, feel the
highest degree of assurance that those, who loved with
such pure and fervent affection, did not believe that
death would break these ties and separate them for
ever.
What can be more beautiful and tender than the revival of old kindred feelings and affections at the time
when Joseph made himself known to his brethren?
Though, on account of their previous unhappy division, their feelings must have been somewhat estranged
and alienated, still, latent but not dried up, in their
hearts lay the quiet fountains of holy brotherly love,
which was ready to flow into streams, and mingle into
one, at the touch of a word.  Oh! what a moment was
that, when Joseph had dismissed his attendants, and
was alone with his brethren!  He burst into tears before he spake a word, and "wept aloud."   How must
the past have rushed in upon the hearts of his brethren
with all its overpow-ering associations; at the words:
104 
AMONG THIE JEWS.
"I am Joseph; doth my father yet live?"-" And his
brethren could not answer him.  And he fell upon his
brother Benjamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin
wept upon his neck. Moreover, hlie kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them!" Such was this meeting,
after so long a separation; and a separation, too, which,
we should have supposed, would have gone far to root
out of their hearts all remaining affection for each
other.  But  they were brethren!  The warmth  of
kindred love was yet latent in the heart of each; and
they needed only to be brought near each other in
order reciprocally to feel its power. This was all
effected in a moment: Joseph said to his brethren:
"Come near to me, I pray you: and they came near:
and he said, I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold
into Egypt." Though the separation of these brethren,
many years before, was an unfriendly one, yet it was
only on the surface; there was a deeper life of love
beneath, and this was now powerfully revived.  Why,
we may ask, should not those who are divided by
friendly death, without any occurrence to alienate their
feelings, be drawn together again, in a similar manner,
after death? We may, without a profane stretch of
fancy, picture to ourselves many such meetings in
heaven. Memory will call up the scenes of earth, social intercourse will often lead to the discovery of old
acquaintances, even where recognition shall not take
place at once, and there will be mutual joy, not un.
worthy of heaven, in such welcome discoveries.
How pure and disinterested was the love between
David and Jonathan!  Who can believe that it ended
in death?  "The soul of Jonathan was knit with the
105
. I 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own
soul. Then Jonathan and David made a covenant,
because he loved him as his own soul." Would he not
then love him as long as he loved his own soul? As
this love was based in their soul, and had nothing of
the life of affinity in it, would it die with their bodies?
or would it not rather last while their souls lasted?
Who can believe that they walked with each other,
knit in one soul through life, and then at death were
suddenly separated, to know nothing of each other
any more for ever? No. Friendship so pure as this,
is not a mere passion or instinct of the flesh, which
will expire in the grave; it is an attribute of the soul,
which must live while the soul lives. Of these two
friends we may say truly, what is elsewhere said of
Saul and Jonathan: "Lovely and pleasant in their
lives, and in their death they were not divided."
Equally affecting and significant with the above, is
the affectionate attachment of Ruth to her mother-inlaw, Naomi. When Naomi was about to separate from
her, she "lifted up her voice and wept."  When Naomi
continued to urge her to return to her country, and
leave her, she exclaimed, in language of almost unearthly earnestness: "Entreat me not to leave thee,
or to return from following after thee: for whither thou
goest I will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge:
thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:
where thou diest I will die, and there will I be buried."
Ruth i. 16, 17. Certainly such affection, which knits
hearts so into one through life, which makes them so
cleave to each other while one after the other sinks
into the grave, and which makes them so desirous of
106 
AMONG THE JEWS.
:ying by each other's side in death - such love is not
mortal. It must be as undying as the soul itself, in
which it has its home, and as lasting as that God from
whom it emanates. "God is Love:" and such pure
disinterested affection as that exhibited in these iiistances, is the reflection of his own image in us. It is
from him that we learn to love. " He that dwelleth in
love, dwelleth in God, and God in him." It is His
Spirit in us that raises our love to its highest perfection; and He will not teach us to cherish what must
die-  He will not teach us to hope for that which will
lead to bitter and eternal disappointment.
Will it not be a delightful part of
"Celestial pastimes"
to revive old associations hallowed by earthly love, to
recount mutual trials and triumphs, to give expression
to heartfelt gratitude for favours rendered to each other
in the communion of saints below, and to join in united
thanksgivings unto God and the Lamb, that, under the
leadings of divine grace, a perilous, crooked and eventful life has ended at last in such a happy consummation
of bliss and glory? This gives a new value, and increased sacredness, to the ties of friendship on earth,
and a most desirable feature to the joys of heaven.
V. The conduct of David, after the death of his
child, and the source from which he drew consolation
for his bereaved heart on that mournful occasion, show
plainly that he believed in the doctrine of heavenly recognition. 2 Sam. xii.
David had sinned a great sin. As a salutary punislhment, God determined to bereave him of his child:
10 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
"the child that is born unto thee shall surely die."
This affected him deeply. He fasted, lying all night
upon the earth, and humbly besought God that the
child might live. The elders of his house endeavoured
to raise him and soothe him, but in vain; he fasted
and wept until the seventh day, when the child died.
As soon as he was told that the child was dead, he
changed  his conduct entirely:  "Then  David arose
from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and
changed his apparel, and came into the house of the
Lord, and worshipped: then he came to his own house;
and when he required, they set bread before him, and
he did eat." This conduct surprised his servants.  They
wondered, that as he had fasted and wept while the
child was yet living, he should now rise and eat when
it was dead.  His answer to them is beautifully significant and satisfactory: "While the child was yet alive,
I fasted, and wept; for I said, Who can tell whether
God will be gracious to me, that the child may live?
But now he is dead, wherefore should I fast?  Can I
bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall
not return to me!"
In this passage the royal mourner evidently makes
known the source of his consolation under this affliction.  His servants wondered that he was sad no more,
and expressed to him their surprise; this was his reply,
in which he tells them what considerations had dried
his tears.  His consolation rests on two grounds.
1. His resignation to the will of God. While his
child lived, there was still hope that God would be
gracious to him, and grant its recovery; for which he
devoutly used the proper means - fasting, penitence,
108 
AMONG  TIIE JEWS.
and prayer. Now, however, as the child is dead, he
sees that so was God's will, and he calmly acquiesces
in it. Can I bring him back against God's will?  No:
this he would not do.  God's will is his rule; and now
that he knows fully and finally that it was His will it
should die, he lifts up towards God a cheerful counrtenance, and weeps no more.
2. The other source of his consolation is the belief
that he should find his child again. This indeed would
not be effected by his weeping the child back again to
this world; but it would be by his following the child
into a future life.  "I shall go to him, but he shall not
return to me."   "I shall go to him!" says David.
Where was the child? where did he believe it to be?
Its body was not yet buried, and was therefore, so far
as its body was concerned, still with him. If even its
body had been buried in the grave, David knew that
the dead btly was not his child, but only its mortal
remains. His child was in that place of which. David
himself frequently spake, and especially when he said
of himself, as the type of Christ, "My flesh also shall
rest in hope.  For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell;
neither wilt thou suffer thine holy one to see corruption.  Thou wilt show me the path of life: in thy
presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are
pleasures for evermore." Psalms xvi. 9-11.
With such views of immortal life, David did surely
not thlink of his child as being just among the dead,
and comfort himself with the hope that he too should
soon die, and be, like it, in the grave and free from
trouble.  This would have been a stupid or desperate
yielding to despair, instead of that cheerful resignation,
10
109 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
which he here manifests, at the thought of going to
his child. If it was the thought that he too would
die, which comforted him, he would have assignedthat
as the reason of his cheerfulness. This he did not
do; but he, as plainly as words can make it, declares,
that he has ceased to mourn, because God's will is now
manifest, and because he knows he shall go to his
child. "I shall go to him."
The rich consolation which this blessed doctrine
affords at such a time, none but a parent can fully
know and feel.  To see before us "flesh of our flesh,
and bone of our bone"- to see our own image gazing
affectionately upon us from the babe before us -to see
our own souls and hearts beaming forth from its eyes -
to hear it call us, Father! Mother! - This awakens a
feeling in us that cannot die. Then, to see this image,
which is but our other self, calm and cold in death!then the thought of feeling the warmth of its living
love no more! Does God ask any one of his children
to endure this? He Himself asks: "Can a woman
forget her sucking child?"  No! There is a yearning
after it that will not be quiet, till there is a hope of
future recognition and reunion. There is no doubt
many parents would have been drawn in grief after
their sainted children into the grave by a cord of unrelenting grief, were it not that they drew consolation
and hope from the same source from which this royal
parent was comforted: "I shall go to him."
This hope subdues the keenness of grief, and brightens
up the short interval of sorrow between their death
and our own, and casts back the light of comfort from
the distant heavens upon the bleak and dreary shores
110 
AMONG THE JEWS.
of this mortal life.  The consoling thought that the
parting look which we mournfully cast upon their cold
faces in the coflfin, is not the last one after all; and
that those eyes, in which we so often saw our own
image reflected, will open upon us with a purer ray,
and a welcome smile, in the regions of bliss, takes
away half the pangs of this sorrowful parting. This
was the consolation of David; and we may, with implicit faith, cherish it as a balm for our own hearts,
when bruised by fresh bereavement.
VI. Among the later Prophets, over three hundred
years after David, we still find allusions, which show
that the belief in future recognition was common
among the sacred writers at that time.
In the 14th chapter of Isaiah there is a graphic description of the sensation produced on earth and in
the regions of the dead, at the death of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. His glory is brought to the
dust, and his oppressions have ceased. Now the earth
rejoices, and "breaks forth in singing- yea, the firtrees rejoice at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, since thou art laid down, no feller is come up
against us." Thus was earth moved with joy at this
event.
There is also a like sensation in the regions of the
dead, to which the king has gone, at this event. "IHell*
from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy
* The word SIEOL, here translated Hell, is, like the Greek HADES,
a general term, meaning simply eternity, or the regions of the dead,
without designating the particular condition of the dead as happy or
miserable. Their actual condition must be determined by the contOti In this case it means of course the place of the lost.
ill 
IHEAVENLY RECOGNITION
coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the
Chief ones of the earth: it hath raised up from their
thrones all the kings of the nations. All they shall
speak and say unto thee, art thou also become weak as
we?  Art thou become like one of us?  Thy pomp is
brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols:
the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover
thee. How art thou fallen from heaven, 0 Lucifer,
son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the
ground, which didst weaken the nations."- The whole
tenor of this passage shows that the dead knew who he
wtas.  They recognized him as the king of Babylon,
and address him as a king. He, as a king, is represented as being received with pomp by the "chief ones
of the earth" whio knew him before.   The other kings
there are represented as still upon their thrones, and
as rising up to meet him. They address him with a
kind of taunting irony, reminding him that his pride
and glory is departed, and that he, like them, has become weak and a fellow of worms, in the dreary regions
of the dead. All this shows that there was here a
mutual recognition.
This scene, it is true, is among the lost; for, although
Sheol does only mean the region of the dead in general,
yet here its meaning is made definite by the context,
in which the character of this king is represented as
wicked -he is also received by hell "from beneath,"
and is said to have "fallen from heaven." Its force,
however, as a proof, that the prophets at this time believed in future recognition, is not weakened by this
fact. For we might insist, by way of inference, that
the ties which bind the wicked together cannot be
112 
AMONG THE JEWS.
stronger and more perpetual, than those which unite
the saints; and if the former stretch unbroken across
the grave, why not the latter? Without, however, insisting upon this inference, we may remark that we see
a great deal more force in the fact, that this passage
exhibits the dead in general as continuing still in the
same stations, and as having the same habits, dispositions and characters, as they had here on earth.  In
this passage, the general features of human life, and(
human society, are carried over the grave, and are represented as still existing there under the same general
type. Hence the dead know, and are known, recognize
and are recognized, by the same marks of identity and
difference, as here on earth.  The whole scene in this
picture is of earthly imagery, only covered over with a
thin and semi-transparent veil of mystery, with which
our mind naturally covers the somewhat awful abodes
of the dead. Hence in the shades, or in the mysterious
world of the departed, this passage still discovers the
continuation of the social life of earth in its general
features. Kings are still known and recognized as
kings, great ones as great ones, and friends as friends.
This same view of the spirit-world continued common among the Jews, and manifested itself on various
occasions in the days of our Saviour. The patriarchs
are spoken of as sitting in the kingdom of heaven, and
others are represented as being gathered to them, and
as sitting down with them. The question of the Sadducees, as to whose wife she should be, who had been
the wife of seven, shows that the Jews then believed
that the ties of earth would continue; for, though the
al(ladducees themselves did not believe in a resurrection
10''
113 
IIEAVENLY RECOGXITION
and in another life, yet they knew that the other Jews
did; and for this reason they supposed that this question would trouble them. Had the Jews not believed
that knowledge of each other would exist in heaven,
the Sadducees could not have supposed that this question would cause any difficulty.
All this shows mnost clearly that, as exhibited in these
allusions, it was a common sentiment among the Jews,
that society in the future life would exhibit essentially
the same features as here on earth -that habits, dispositions, character and station, would there be discovcrable as here -and that, consequently, all who had
known each other on earth, would there be able to recognize each other by the same marks and signs which
distinguished them in this world.  In this sense the
passage under consideration, independent of the inference alluded to, affords a strong, yea,  a conzclusive
proof, that the Jews believed in a general mutual recognition of each other in a future life.
The Jews, living in the childhood of the world, when
imagination and hope were stronger than reason and
clear understanding, must have found this doctrine
peculiarly precious and consoling.   Experience  and
observation prove that, even now, among simple-hearted
peasants, whose minds are less critical and less logical
than the minds of those who live in the light of science,
the memory of the departed is cherished with more
tenderness and less interruption. We do not mean
that they believe more, or more firmly, but that they
doubt less. With what pious and implicit faith is this
doctrine now held, where there is not the ability to
offer one reason for it, in the peaceful tents of bumble
114 
AMONG THE JEWVS.
life! Around many a green country grave-yard it
clusters with its blessed hopes and consolations, and is
as fresh and living in the hearts of mourners as the
green grass and wild flowers that grow in peace together there. There no speculative doubts arise. There
faith rests, not upon reason, but upon a sweet unquestioned tradition, too innocent and too much in accordance with unsophisticated and instinctive nature, to be
assailed by such as love to doubt.  Their love for the
dead is quite too childlike to be disturbed by thoughts
either right or wrong. They love their dear departed
ones with that love which believeth all things, hopeth
all things, and never faileth.
This was precisely the condition of the Old Testament saints. They were children in knowledge, in
thoughts, feelings, manners, hopes and affections.
Hence we have such tender and moving instances of
lovely grief for the dead recorded in the Bible.   The
family feeling was strong and sacred; and they felt
that those who, year by year, dropped away from the
circle of their love, were not lost but gone before. By
a holy and affectionate instinct which, cultivated by
revelation, grew gradually more and more into a clear
faith, they felt constrained to cherish their memory in
the sweet and comforting hope of reunion with them
in the life everlasting.
115 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
CIIAPTER VI.
Vitaut1t rf ng~nunitinui  in  tljt  (rrarW ingo   uf (trist.
When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;
Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.
THE direct object of our Saviour's mission into the
world was to reveal God's will, to bring to men life
and salvation, and thus to repair upon earth the ruins
of the fall. Intent upon this object, he was concerned
and employed, rather with men's duties upon the earth,
than with their privileges in heaven. Although what
he did and said was designed in the final issue to bear
upon the heavenly kingdom, yet his first and immediate
aim was the establishment of a kingdom upon the
earth. He did not therefore speak so largely and
directly of the heavenly world, no doubt because he
thought it not fit unduly to crowd the future into the
present. He could have said much of the glory which
surrounded Him above, and which is waiting for the
saints, but that was to be revealed to them more fully
in its timne, while us yet his great mission, and their
116 
IN THE TEACHIINGS OF CIIRIST.
most urgent duty, was to secure for them a clear and
sure title to the heavenly blessedness.
This may account for the fact that almost all we
know of heaven from the Saviour's teachings is indirect and incidental.   We must therefore expect th.at
what we shall find in His teachings on the heavenly
recognition, will be in hints and allusions, rather than
direct and positive. If, however, such hints and allusions are, here and there, scattered through the Gospel
records, they furnish a testimony just as decisive as
positive declarations.   "When  a doctrine is assumed
as the basis of any reasoning, or appears to be casually
wrought into the texture of an illustration, it is evidently supposed to be true-nay, such a use of the doctrine
amounts to a positive affirmation of it; since it originates in a belief that it is too obvious, or too generally
received, to require that it should be made the subject
of explicit statement or formal discussion." When a
traveller, for instance, in describing the country through
which he has passed, alludes to capitals, churches, and
ships, we know that the inhabitants of that country
have a government, a religion, and a commerce, just
as decidedly, as if he had directly stated it.  On the
same principle circumstantial evidence is often more
convincing and conclusive than direct testimony.
These incidental allusions are especially strong in
proof of the doctrine of heavenly recognition, when
we have other grounds upon which we may reasonably
hold it by way of supposition; in that case, these allusions confirm the correctness of the supposition, with a
degree of certainty which admits of no hesitation. This
supposition we already hold with great confidence, de.
117 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
rived from the several considerations presented in tile
preceding chapters.  Following  thus  the  historical
process of this doctrine, our assurance increases in
strength; the stream of evidence enlarges, and acquires
a more determinate force, and we are borne along freely
and yet with irresistible power, to its comforting and
delightful conclusion.
With these views of the nature and value of the
evidence we expect to derive from the incidental testimony which falls from our Saviour's lips, we proceed to
trace the history of this doctrine in His blessed and
gracious teachings.
I. The doctrine of heavenly recognition is involved
in, and may be inferred from, the nature of that kingdom which Christ established here on earth, and which
is to continue in heaven.
"I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil."  This,
though spoken directly in reference to the law, is true
in a deep and comprehensive sense, and may be applied
to the mission of Christ in all its departments. The
Saviour did not come to break and destroy human ties,
but to elevate, sanctify, and perfect them. For this
purpose He became Himself human, stood in human
relations, and was bound by human ties. He came to
establish a kingdom, making himself its centre and
life, making all the laws which bind the subjects of it
to Him and each other, laws of love; and making
these laws divine, and yet permitting them at the same
time to remain sweetly human. This kingdom on
earth is the same which is once to become the kingdom
of heaven; and we may therefore seek and see, even
hare upon the earth, the pattern and fashion of hea
118 
IN THE TEACHINGS OF CIIPIST.
venly things, though it be somewhat darkly, in inci
pient or embryonic stages.
Thus, Christ formed on earth a social economy; not
thereby to destroy existing ties, but to bind them more
firmly and lastingly together in a higher principle, the
principle of divine life, and of holy love. The bonds
which are to unite the members of his kingdom are not
to be bonds merely of a common interest, like those in
human governments, where some individual rights and
privileges are to be sacrificed for the good of the whole;
but they are cords of life and love, proceeding from
His own heart, and binding each to all, and all to Himself, as the members of one body -thus securing the
common good by individual benefit, instead of by individual sacrifice.
Here then is a brotherhood, instead of a civil compact - a family, instead of a nation. United to him
as the First Born, and Elder Brother, and to each
other as children of a family; the ties of kindred were
not to be destroyed, but to be sanctified in Him, and
from Him extended as the ties of his eternal kingdom;
so that, in this larger range, they might expand and
perfect themselves, by becoming eternal. With this
blessed object in view, the Saviour-king aimed at the
destruction of all divisions, and the uprooting of sin
as their cause. He earnestly and constantly inculcated
the duty of the holiest love, and the most refined
friendship, and hallowed all the ties of kindred, as
well as of affection, by his own example.
It seems to me, that to a reflecting mind it must be
the strongest of all proofs of perpetuated friendship
in heaven, that Christ gave countenance to particutla?
119 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
friendships upon earth. He allows and sanctifies them
by his own example.  Though Ile loved all men, Ile
loved His disciples in varticular; and even among Iiis
own disciples he seems to show a certain peculiar affection for some. Peter, James and John, seem to have
been his particular favourites. They were on many
occasions, his confidential witnesses.  When he raised
the centurion's daughter from the dead they were admitted, and no others.  On  the mysterious  mount,
where Hle was transfigured, these three were the only
ones permitted to be the witnesses of His glory.   In
the garden of Gethsemane, these three were the only
ones admitted into the secrets of His sufferings and
sorrow.  That this confidence is the mark of the most
intimate friendship, the Saviour hlimself declares, when
he says to his disciples: "I call you not servants; for
the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I
have called you friends; for all things that I have
heard of my Father I have'vade known unto you."
According to this, confidence is a mark of peculiar
and intimate friendship; and hence, because these
three were so often admitted into his secret doings,
they must have been regarded by him with peculiar
love.  Even among these three, one seems still to be
singled out by Him, as yet nearer than the other two.
This is John, "the beloved disciple," the "disciple
whom Jesus loved," the one "which also leaned on
IHis breast at supper!" There could be no meaning in
designating him, as the disciple whom Jesus loved, if
it was not generally known and understood that Ile
loved him peculiarly, and that he was regarded as the
Saviour's favourite.
120 
IN TIIE TEACHI'NGS OF CIIRIST.
Tlia pe liar and particular friendship was not confinedl to tlo circle of the apostles; for even among the
believers in general, we find, IHe had his special attaehmnnts.  The Scriptures designate, as the objects
of his special friendship, the retired family of Bethany.
Not only is this indicated by His frequently retiring to
that peaceful retreat, but we are plainly told: "Now
Jesus loved MIartha, and her sister, and Lazarus."  his
peculiar intimacy with these two sisters is also seen in
the fact that they sent for him in all the simplicity of
the most confident love, when their brother was sick;
this they did, not without having had previous assurance
that they would find in Him particular sympathy. I-How
spontaneously and freely Ile mingles His tears with
theirs'  Even the Jews took knowledge of it, and exclaimed: "Behold how Ile loved him!"
In what way, it is now asked, does this bear on the
perpetuation of firiendship and particular affection in
thle other world?  We answer, the particular love thus
manifested by Christ, proves that special affection is
not improper or inconsistent in holy beings, for He was
holy. Ihis exercising such affections, and delighting
in them, shows that they are fit to be continued in
heaven.  We can, moreover, not believe that IHe would
form ties of a special kind, and thus by his example
give encouragement to the formation of similar ones
by his people, if they are to be broken by death.  With
such vanity we must not charge the Saviour, who is
the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. In his heart
nothing can live for a moment, which is not to live for
(ever.
A still stronger feature in this testimony, is his tears
11
121 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
at the grave of Lazarus.  "He groaned in spirit and
was troubled;" and while they stood at the door of the
sepulchre, "Jesus wept!"  This proves that, to Him,
the ties of earthly and kindred love were sacred and
holy; that the breaking of them by death was an evil
in itself, which demanded tears of sorrow; and that in
repairing the evils of the fall, which brought death,
this evil called also for reparation in the case of the
saints. What can show more clearly that, though dead,
Lazarus was still bound to them, and they to him?
Here we see how the Saviour, by his own example,
justifies our crowding with sorrowful hearts, and with
undying affection, after our beloved friends, asking
loudly, by the eloquence of our grief, that they may
be restored to us again and we to them.
The argument for heavenly recognition, from this
scene of bereavement, becomes perfect by a glance at
the interview between Jesus and Marthla, and the way
I-e consoled her, on her brother's death. In deep distress she says to him, "Lord, if thou hadst been here,
my brother had not died."  Now, how does He console
her? He does not say, Weep not, for he is happy,
though you see him not, and shall see him no more.
No. He intimates to her in the tenderest manner, that
what has now been a source of grief, shall once again
be a source of joy.  "Thy brother shall rise again."
This would really have been no comfort to her, while
her heart was torn and bleeding from his death and
separation from her, if He had not intended thereby
to inform her that he should rise again, to be her brother, and if she had not so understood it.  He did not
tell her that I-He would immediately raise her brother,
1I2 
IN THE TEACHINGS OF CIIRIST.
bo that it was not that thought which was brought before her mind for comfort; she declares also that she
already knew he would rise "in the resurrection at the
last day." His answer shows, that He wished to assure
her of the general truth, that He was Himself the resurrection - that the believing dead lived in Him, and
that the believing who lived should never die: that
thus, in Him, existed even now that life which is the
basis of ties which death does not sever; and when he
should rise at the resurrection, he would rise in Him;
and that, in Him, all ties are eternally secure.  It
would be difficult to see why lie should tell her in the
way of comfort that her brother should rise again, if
it was not by way of assuring her of the renewal of
such ties beyond death. Ile would assure her that
"he is not dead but sleepeth."  He would tell her not
to mourn hopelessly, but to temper her grief with the
thought that in the case of those who are united in
Him, there continues a union, through Him, unaffected
by death; and that even the gloomy night of a short
separation is made light in the joyous hope of an endless life.
Not only did our Saviour thus hallow and sanction
special friendship by His example, but He constantly
urged it upon all his followers. He enjoined it upon
all to cultivate love towards each other, as a necessary
preparation for the heavenly kingdom. Hle declares it
to be the fulfilling of the law, and the crowning point
of Chriistian perfection. How can we, and lwhy should
we, believe that a feature of Christian character such
as this, will ever be obliterated? that Christianity
teaches us to love our friends as we would otherwise
1"3 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
not have been able to love them, but forbids us to believe that such love is intended to be eternal?
If particular attachments are to die at death, never
to be revived again in heaven, it is strange that our
adorable Saviour should manifest such a particular
concern for His mother, when Hle hung upon the cross,
as to commend her to Ihis " beloved disciple." Strange
also, that in imitation of his example, the experience
of hundreds of saints in dying have found the cords
of kindred love drawing tighter, even to the seeming
distress of their last hours.  This certainly is no sign
that love is dying, but rather proclaims its strength in
death, and is a final and almost unutterably strong assutrance that the waters of death cannot quench it, but
that it lives i-l peaceful and steady triumph amid the
"swellings of Jordan."
This being the nature of Christ's kingdom of love
on earth, such the ties formed in it, and such the
friendships and affections which it begets and cultivates, we have the strongest reason to believe that
these shall continue unbroken through death.  To
strengthen still more this belief, we must remind the
reader that, according to the teachings of Christ, this
kingdom is essentially the same in heaven as on earth.
His kingdom is one; part on earth and part in heaven.
Christ is its head and king, " of whom the whole family
in heaven and earth is named." It is all but one family,
one bodly, pervaded by one life and one love.
The saints on earth and all the dead,
But one communion make;
All join in Christ, their living head,
And in his grace partake.
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IN TIIE TEACIIINGS OF CIIRIST.
HFe hIimrself is present on both sides of death.  Wvhen
on earth, he could call Himself "the son of man who
is in heaven;" and now, being in heaven, he can say,
"Lo! I am with you alway, even to the end of the
world." Here time and space can make no separation:
so that, whether in the church on earth or in the church
in heaven, all are alike in Him; and consequently, their
relations to each other are not in the least changed.
The death of a friend is just as when, at a feast, one
passes into another chamber into which we may in time
follow him, and find him there, as we knew him before.
They pass away from earth behind the veil of our
mortal sight, and there live on as before.  Those faces
of love which beam around us like stars in the gloom
of this life, grow daily fewer, and soon we too shall
fade away into the morning light of a brighter heaven.
Thus star by star declines,
Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines,
To pure and perfect day;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,
But hide themselves in heaven's own light.
When we shall all be over, we shall live on in His eternal kingdom together, with the same attachment to
Christ and each other, only purer than here: but we
shall no mnore tremble in the cheerless prospect of separation by death: for there they die no more!
II. Not only does a view of Christ's kingdom in this
world encourage and warrant us in the belief of heavenly recognition, but we learn also to believe it from
whlat lIe says of heaven, as the future inheritance of
the saints.
11 *
1 2 I?-') 
IIEAVENL-Y PRECOGNITION
Whenever the Saviour alludes to the heavenly world,
it is alwvays a world in its social features reslembling
this, except that it is holy and free from all ills.  rWe
do not get the idea, in reading the representations of
heaven in the Gospels, that human ties must there be
set aside, or that we shall not continue to be human
in all our feelings as here.  In short, under the Saviour's teachings, we feel ourselves, together with all
the scenery of earth, both physical and social, transferred to a pure, perfect, peaceful and eternal world,
where God, angels and saints dwell together, as in a
family -and this is heaven.
Such, for instance, is the case in that incomparably
touching passage in Christ's farewell address to his
disciples, in which he comforts them on their short separation.  "In my Father's house are many mansions:
if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place
for you, I will come again and receive you to myself;
that where I am, there ye may be also."  hiere the
sad(l disciples are pointed to a "Father's house," containing many mansions-here is the idea of a heavenly
family, the members of which have all returned from a
strange land, and now live together amid all the hallowed social endearments of an eternal home. This is
the PLACE which He prepares for them.  This place,
he says, I prepare for you - that is, the same place is
for all of you, that ye, all together, may be with me
where I am. They shall, therefore, be together there,
together with Him, and consequently together with
each other, as the children of one family in their Father'- house.  We may well wonder how all this can
126 
IN TIIE TEACItINGS OF CIIRIIST.
take place without a mutual recognition!  Shall they
be eternally togethler, as children in a fiamily, and not
know each other, and without the revival of their former connections on earth?  Ilowv can they be with
the Saviour, know Him, have intercourse with Him,il,
and not be reminded of earth and each other?  IHis
looks, His words, HIis wounds, their relations to Itim-lall, all would restore their mutual knowledge of each
other. To suppose that there would be no recognition,
is to suppose that they had lost every social feature of
their original nature-that they had lost and forgotten
their origin, their identity, and become beings entirely
new; in which case, their salvation could mean nothing
to them; and they could not feel their relation to
Christ to be that of those who had been redeemed by
Himn from the earth.
The Saviour has also set forth tlhe heavenly enjoyments under the figure of a feast.  "I say unto you,
that many shall come from the east and west, and shall
sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the
kingdom of heaven."  Miatt. viii. 11.  In the parallel
passage in Luke xiii. 28, it is added: "and all the
prophets." That this is spoken of the heavenly world,
the whole context shows; for the patriarchs were already in the future life; and this meeting is put in
contrast with the "outer darkness," where are heard
the weepings and wailings of those that are "thrust
out."  Here then Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all the
prophets, are represented, not only as sitting together,
but as engaged in social intercourse as at a feast, where
old and familiar firiends meet, and where new acquaint
ances are formed.  Here others are said to come from
127 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
the four quarters of the earth, to sit down withi these
at this social feast. The passage could mean nothing,
did it not mean that these patriarchs and prophets
knew each other, and that those who came to sit with
them knew them also, or were made acquainted with
them; and, in this holy festival, introduced into their
happy society.  The idea of sitting and feasting togcther leads us naturally and irresistibly to this conclusion. Here then is recognition and heavenly acquaintance.
As in the cases upon which we have already remarked, so also in this, the most valuable testimony we receive from this passage in favour of this doctrine, is
that it represents heaven as a scene of social life, analogous to that on earth-that in this celestial communion are seen all the warm and familiar social accompaniments which are associated with the intercourse
of dear friends in this life. This is common to all the
Saviour's allusions to the heavenly place, state and
society.  It is, beyond doubt, rather superstition than
reverence, which leads us to think of the heavenly life
as so far removed from all the affinities of human life,
that we feel a sacred awe at the very thought of transferring into it any of our human ideas and feelings.
The Saviour's representations and allusions, as we see,
do not, in the least, encourage this cold and unearthly
abstraction. The heaven, which He causes to rise before our hopes, is one with which our human ideas and
feelings can most sweetly sympathize, and towards
which we are drawn with warm human, though holy
desires, as a home where, what is human in us, shall
not be destroyed, but elevated, sanctified, and perfect
128 
IN TIlE TEACHINGS OF CHRIST.
ed. It is this feature of the Saviour's teachings, it
seems to me, more than any one passage, or class of
passages, that gives us encouragement and warrant to
believe that we shall there meet again our friends and
pious kindred, who were joined with us in Christ upon
earth, and with holier affections renew and continue
the social joys begun in the communion of saints below. Would this be a bliss too tame for heaven? Well
may we ask
Is friendship then unfit for heaven? Would loveThat holy impulse wlhich in Jesus dwelt, and streamed
From Him into the souls of those who touched
His loving heart-would it pollute the place 
If that which buds in grace, is not to bloom
In bliss, and thlou canst prove it so, say on!
This passage not only permits us to believe that we
shall see and know our former friends and acquaintances, but also confirms in us the hope, so fondly cherished by us, of seeing in the heavenly world all the
illustrious of earth, who lived in previous ages of the
Church, and whom we have not seen in the flesh. WE
shall sit down at the celestial feast, with the patriarchs
and prophets- with the eminent and excellent- with
holy Fathers, Martyrs, and Reformers. This will be
an unspeakable pleasure- this is a most animating
hope! We have heard of them, we have been benefited
by them; the rays of their bright and holy influence
have come down to us through the living history of the
Church - by faith we have sought to place around us
their bright examples, as patterns for our imitation;
and we have earnestly sought to be like them, as they
129 
ItEAVENLY RECOGNITION
were like Christ. VWhat joy will it be to see them, and
sit down in their society in the blessed feastings of the
heavenly world.  What a reverend and illustrious coinpany will that be! What an element of heavenly felicity, to meet the great and good of all ages, and all
lands, together in glory; to hear from their own lips
the trials and triumphs of the Great Kingdom in their
day! The heart of Socrates, at his death, bounded
with joy at the thought of meeting and conversing with
Orpheus, Homer, Hesiod, Palemedes, Ajax, and all
others who had maintained the cause of truth and rectitude, and of exploring the wisdom of Ulysses and
Sisyphus, and the hero of the siege of Troy. Should
not our hearts leap into much higher raptures at the
thought of meeting Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses,
David, Paul, John, Polycarp, Cyprian, Augustine,
Aquinas, and all those who in more modern times have
brightened the firmament of the Church with a galaxy,
where each distinct star is lost in the blaze of all!and then to sit with these in the eternal kingdom of
Jesus Christ! Is this a low idea of heavenly felicity?
III. We find proef in favour of the doctrine of future
heavenly recognition from the Saviour's representations
of the final judgment.
When Peter, as the voice of the disciples, asks what
their reward shall be for having left all to follow Ijim,
the Saviour carries their minds forward to the time
when lie shall sit upon the throne of His glory, and
says: "Verily, I say unto you, that ye which have
followed me in the regeneration, when the Son of man
shall sit in the throne of His glory, ye also shall sit upon
twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel."
130 
IN THE TEACIIINGS OF CIIRIST.
htere Ie promises to the apostles a distinguished place
in the heavenly kingdom, where they shall sit together
as judges.  As judges, sitting together for the purpose
of counselling, consulting and comparing judgments,
they must, in the nature of the case, know each other.
A benchl of judges, unknown to each other, would be a
strange anomaly indeed. And shall not those who are
judged know them as the apostles? In Luke xxii. 30,
where the parallel passage is recorded, the description
of their social condition is still more extended and
familiar; there it is added, "That ye may eat and
drink at my table in my kingdom."
The offices which the apostles are said to fill also
plainly and necessarily involve a recognition which
must extend far beyond their own circle.  "Whatever
may be the nature of their office, or in whatever manner it may be exercised, it must include the knowledge
of individuals, and of their relation to the present
world.  In other words, the apostles must know the
persons submitted to their jurisdiction to be the twelve
tribes of Israel; and it is equally plain that the
Israelites must, on the other hand, be aware that their
judges are the twelve apostles. But if this be admitted,
what should hinder the individuals of either party
from becoming known to one another? And, in the
face of such evidence, on what ground can the belief
of a general recognition amongst friends be reasonably
called in question?"*
In the 25th chapter of Matthew, the Saviour gives
a graphic scene of the final judgment, when the nations
shall be gathered before Him, and when He shall se
* Kerr.
1001 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
parate one from another as a shepherd divideth the
sheep from the goats.   The saints shall be placed oni
Ihis right hand, and the sinners on the left.  Then IHe
shall say to the saints: " Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world." Then he gives them the
reasons why they are to receive this blessed reward.
" For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was
thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and
ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick,
and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto
mie."  At this the saints are represented as being surprised, and they ask, "Lord, when was this?" as though
they would say, WVe do not remember that we did this
to you-thou wast not on earth when we were therewe did not at any time come into personal contact with
you, for we never saw thee in the days of thy flesh.
"Then  shall the King, answer, and say unto them:
Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it
unto one of the least of TIIESE my brethren, ye have
done it unto me." Here, then, those brethren who had
been hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, sick, and in
prison, and who in this condition had shared the kind
charities of those whom the Saviour is now inviting to
their reward, as the blessed of their Father, are repre
sented as standing in the company, and the adorable
Saviour, as if passing His hand toward them. says ye
leave done it to thtese. These, then, were standing by
the side of their benefactors. Did they not know them?
Certainly.  For the Saviour directs the attention of
those about to receive their reward, to these persons,
and reminds them of their charitable acts towards
132 
IN TIIE TEACIHINGS OF CIIRIST.
them while they were upon the earth, for the very pur.
pose of showing them the reason why they are now addressed as the blessed of His Father, and why they are
now invited to enter into the joys of their ILord. They
could not feel the propriety of this reward - which it
is the Saviour's object to make them feel-if they dil
not remember their earthly relations to these, in whose
persons Ile regards himself as having been blest by
them, and the remembrance of their former earthly relations could not fail to result in a recognition. There
stood the poor disciple, who had received a cup of cold
water, by the side of the Christianl brother who had
given it to him!  There stood the once hungry and
shivering disciple, and by his side is the one who had
fed and clothed him.  There is the martyr who, while
in prison awaiting his end, had received the consoling
visits of the brother who now stands by his side, on
the right hand of the Judge-both in full view of the
joys of their Lord, into which they are soon to enter
in company. Oh! the reward of doing the smallest
good to the very least of the saints!  Oh! the joy of
meeting those in heaven whom it was in our power to
bless on earth! What mutual bliss is his who did good,
and his who received it.  In the bosom of the one is
the remembrance of a kind act; and in the bosom of
the other are the swellings of joyful gratitude towards
a benefactor.  This - oh this, is a part of heaven!
Here, again, we must remark, how at home, amid
these scenes brought before us in both the above pass:ges, are all our human ideas and sympathies.  We
can enter into them with all the familiarity and warnith
of mind and heart, which belong to our present con       12
1311 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
sciousness.  WTe almost see the tear of gratitude in the
eye of the brother blest; and the holy blushes of him
who on earth sought to do his sweet charities in modest
secrecy. Still humble, he will not at first recognize in
himself the one who has fed the hungry, clothed the
naked, visited the sick, and housed the stranger.   We
can almost see the whole company moved with the
warm glow of human, yet holy affections and emotions.
Such are the saints in heaven, human still. Such
are the scenes of heaven, enlivened with all the hallowed, familiar and endearing accompaniments of
earthly life and society.  Even angels, who mingle
with the saints around the throne, are not devoid of
human sympathies, as appears from many Bible instances of the manner of their intercourse with the
saints on earth.  Those angels who, in the palmy patriarchal times, stood in the shade of a tree at the door
of Abrahami's tent -  whose "feet he washed" -  who
eat of his "morsel of bread" - of his "cakes on the
hearth," of "butter and milk," and "calf tender and
young" -  these social spirits will feel at home sitting
down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with all the
prophets, and with us, at those holy festivities in the
spacious " many mansions" of our Father's house. It
is this, appearing so often and so naturally in the Saviour's representations of the heavenly kingdom, which,
more than all else, assures us that we shall find that
happy place and state to be a living perpetuation of
the social feelings of earth, in all the human tenderness which now endears them to us.
IV. Besides the considerations now offered, there
are several passages oG Scripture that appear in the
134 
IN TIHE TEACHINGS OF CHRIST.
Saviour's teachings, which afford proof in favour of the
doctrine of heavenly recognition.
There is a passage in Luke xvi. 9, the true meaning
of which has hitherto been somewhat controverted; we
shall therefore not insist upon it.  It is this: "Make
to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that when ye fail, they may receive you into
everlasting habitations." The meaning may be — and
it is evidently the easiest, most agreeable to the context, and not against reason or other Scripture - that
those who have befriended the destitute by their charities, and have thus made them their friends, shall by
them be welcomed to the heavenly world.
That the eminent of the earth shall be able to recognize each other is evident from the scene of the
Saviour's Transfiguration on Tabor. Matt. xvii. 1-5.
"And after six days, Jesus taketh Peter, James, and
John his brother, and bringeth them up into an high
mountain apart, and was transfigured before. them:
and His face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was
white as the light. And behold, there appeared unto
them Moses and Elias talking with Him.   Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for
us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three
tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one
for Elias." - Here we find Moses and Elias in company
with each other, though they had lived in different periods of the world, six hundred years apart, and had
consequently not seen or known each other on earth.
They must therefore have become acquainted with each
other in heaven. Their interview with Christ and His
disciples resulted, not only in a mutual acquaintance,
135 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
but, on the part of the disciples, in a peculiar affection
fe)r these two venerable representatives of the Old Testament economy, so that the disciples desired to retain
them and remain in their company.  "Lord, it is good
to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for
Elias." No doubt, through Christ's talk with them,
the disciple found out who they were; in the same
natural way acquaintances may be formed in heaven.
One object in bringing the disciples and these heavenly
visitors together on this glorious Tabor, was no doubt
to assure the disciples of the fellowship of all saints
in this kingdom, begun on earth and perfected in heaven.  Moses, who represented the  law; Elias, who
represented the prophets; and the three apostles, who
were the pillars of the New Testament Church, are
here brought together, even in this world, to foretoken
that all the saints of all these dispensations shall at
last greet each other around a glorified Head and Redeemer on the heavenly Tabor. This scene, even here
is a heavenly scene; for the veil was dropped down
around them, overshadowing them as with a bright
cloud, enclosing all as in a holy place, and may, therefore, be viewed as a fair specimen of heavenly intercourse.
It is worthy of remark that Moses and Elias " spako
of His decease which He should accomplish at Jerusa
lem." This seems to have been the chief object of
their visit. They had been looking on, from their
celestial dwelling-place, as the Saviour prosecuted Hiis
mission on earth, with intense interest; and now, in
view of the solemn and trying scene at its close on the
too)  
IN  TIIE TE:ACIIINGS OF  CIIRIST.
cross, they appeared, no doubt, as an embassy for the
encouragement both of Jesus and His disciples-to
Hizl they spake in words which are not recorded - to
tlewt was afforded a glimpse of their and His heavenly
glory, which seems to have impressed them deeply, for
it long hovered before their minds alluringly, to animate their faith.  2 Peter i. 17.  Of course, whenever
they thought of it, they associated with it the remembrance of these glorified visitors, and the hope of meeting them again on high.  The boon of retaining these
venerable worthies in those tabernacles which they so
affectionately proposed to build, could not be granted
them; but who can doubt that better things than that
shall be theirs? - fellowship with them in a tabernacle
"' not made with hands in the heavens?"  It is, moreover, plain that Moses and Elias knew in heaven what
was transpiring on the earth, and that they took a
deep interest in it.  This shows that saints in heaven
are able to keep up a continued acquaintance with the
earth, sympathizing with those who are coming after
them in all their trials and triumphs; and, when they
die, are perhaps the first to welcome them at the gate
of the city!
In the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke
xvi.), we have a scene from the other world which gives
us a view of its social character, and of the social feelings of its inhabitants.  It is so well known that we
need not quote it. The rich man " seethi Abraham afar
off and Lazarus in his bosom."  Here then he saw and
recognized both an ancient patriarch and one who lived
at the same time he did on earth, whom he was wont
i) sce as a beggar at his door.  He supposes intercourse
]o,
107
,3 
1IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
to be possible, so natural do all things in that worli
appear to him; and hence he asks Abraham to send
Lazarus to him to administer cool water to his burning
tongue.  Abraham calls him "son;" thus recognizing
him as a Hebrew; reminds him of the earth, and of
his mnode of life there: "Son, remember that thou in
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things."  Hle reminds
him of the difference of both their situations now from
what they were on the earth: "Now he is comforted,
and thou art tormented." How could they thus compare their previous and present situations and conditions, without a continuation of that consciousness
which necessarily implies recognition. lie remembers
also, and speaks of his "father's house" upon earth.
Hle thlinks of his "five brethren," and acknowledges
himfself as still sustaining that relation to them; for
he does not say I had, but "I have five brethren." IHe
still feels for them, and desires that Lazarus may be
sent to them "that hlie may testify unto them, lest they
also come into that place of torment."
This, it is true, is a parable; but is a parable intended to mean nothing; or, is it not rather intended
to make revealed truth plainer than could be done by
plain precept?  That, therefore, which is its plainest
meaning, is its true meaning.   That it contains ornamental imagery, which must not be run too closely in
the interpretation, none will deny; but if all we have
gathered from it in favour of our doctrine is taken as
imagery, what, we ask, is left as substance?
It is true, also, that this is a scene partly in the
place of the lost; and these feelings of interest in friends
are attributed to one in torment.   Yet Abraham anal
138 
IN THE TEACHINGS OF CHRIST.
T
Lazarus, who are saints, do so enter into the whole
scene, that we see the recognition to have been alike
easy and natural to each. Mloreover, if they know
each other in hell, there is yet stronger reason to believe that they will in heaven.  For not only are the
saints vastly more advanced in knowledge, but the ties
of friendship which bind them together are much more
intimate and durable. Their faculties are clearer, their
hearts holier, their affections calmer and deeper, without any of the distortions and confusions of sin; we
find, therefore, a thousand-fold more reason for expecting a renewal and continuation of former affections
among the saints in light.
From what has now been said concerning heavenly
recognition in the teachings of the Saviour, we trust
the faith of all who have followed us has been rendered
more warm and implicit.  We have sought our doctrine
in the general tenor of that hope-inspiring life which
flows from Christ and lives in His kingdom alike in
earth and in heaven, warming the hearts of all who
come under its power into a felt consciousness of a
charity which never faileth, and leading them to hope
as they could not dare to hope before.  We have followed the flow of that life and immortality which was
brought to light, not only by Him, but in Him, rather
than any single passage, or class of passages. In other
words, we have aimed by these exhibitions rather to
make the reader feel that there will be a heavenly recognition, than to make him know it. It is, -ith Christ,
as all his revelations are, not so much doctrine as life.
We have therefore laboured that our hearts might teach
our minds, rather than that our minds should teach oir
139 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
hearts. Or, scripturally, we have walked by faith more
than by sight-and "faith is the substance of things
hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
We feel sure that he who stands in full sympathy
with the inner life of faith- he who lives, moves,
hopes and loves, in the broad flow of Christ's universal
life and kingdom, can be just as sure of eternal union
with all saints in Him, as he is now sure of its existence, and of his own union with Christ. He who lives
only in the deep catholic life of faith need not be afraid
that his deepest longings, and most ardent hopes, will
die. Things must first become fragments, before they
can perish. He that is one with the infinite and eternal
will realize whatever he finds it in his heart to hope
for; and, to such an one, says the word of truth, "According to thy faith, be it unto you."
From these considerations we feel free to encourage
every one who mourns over broken ties, with the consoling words of the Saviour, which are themselves
general, and may here safely be taken in their most
general application: "Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted."  That affection for the
pious dead which is cherished by all, and most of all
in the hearts of those whose souls are purest, and whose
piety is deepest, seems for its full comfort, ardently to
ask for the restoration of the object of its devotion,
even amid the bliss of heaven.  In the tame but touchng  language of the pious bishop Maut
There is a void in lorn affection's heart,
Which yearns to be supplied.   On God's high will
Though it repose submissively, yet still
Of those, who bore,Q in its retards a part,
The cherished forms it holds, as in a chart
140 
IN THE TEACIIINGS OF CHRITST.
Depicted, hoping He niay yet fulfil
Their restitution. Pardon it if ill
Lurk in that hope, Great Father! True thou art;
Thou sayest, the just shall bliss in fulness prove,
And, what thou sayest, thy bounty will provide;
And yet meseems the blissful souls above,
The sense of earth's sweet charities denied,
Might feel a craving in those realmtns of love,
By angel hosts and patriarchs unsupplied
1,1t 
LEIAVENLY RECOGNITION
CHAPTER VII.
t- 2nuIItq  VI~-,Iguitinn   lIIIUIug  tljt J    ltnltfto
Prophets, priests,
Apostles, great reformers, all that served
MIessiah faithfiully, like stars appear
Of fairest beam: round them gather clad
In white, the vouchers of their ministryThe flock their care had nourished,
Fed and saved.
POLLOCK.
TjiErp  was nothing abstract, or purely spiritualistic,
in the ideas of the Apostles, in regard to another life.
They regarded man in religion, as he is actually in na ture, as composed of body as well as soul, and only
complete in the living union of both. They believed
in the resurrection of the body, and made this faith
prominent in all their teachings: indeed the sum and
substance of what they announced was, "Jesus and
the resurrection"-Jesus the ground of the resurrec* tion, and his people the subjects of it; in this great
truth all truths centered, and from it all truth radiated.
The Saviour's resurrection was, to them, the sweet and
sure pledge of an endless life. To convince ourselves
of this, we need only refer our minds to all those
1.12 
AMONG TIIE APOSTLES.
passages in which the resurrection of Christ and of thl
saints is spoken of.
They had seen the Saviour, after His resurrection.
clothed in a body as tangible to their senses as theii
own - a body, which could be seen and felt. Luke xxiv
They saw Him also go up into heaven with that body
Acts i.  They expected, therefore, after their own resurrection, to live with Him again in their own bodies;
and however much these bodies might be chlanged in
their glorification, as to their incorruptibility, honour,
power, and spirituality, they did not imagine that in
their general appearance they would be essentially
different from what they are now. They expected,
therefore, that in the future world they would retain
all those marks and characteristics of individuality by
which they were here distinguished and known. Just
as the seed that is sown, though it seem to perish,
ripens at last into new seed exactly like that which
perished, so that every seed gets its own body again;
so, "the body that shall be," will be like thi body that
now is, and will continue in a deep sense tile same
body.
To their conceptions, then, the future world was as
tangible as this-the future life a living continuation
of this-and its social condition analogous to what it
is here, only more elevated, pure, and complete.  The
kingdom which they were labouring to extend, was one
which, in their view, joined them and all saints livingly
together in Christ as members in a body.   This union
they believed would continue through death.  IHence,
when they spake of their hopes, it was in plural lan
gutge.  FTVe are saved by hope -we have a building
1 4, 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
of God, eternal in the heavens -ue shall bear the
image of the heavenly —we shall be caught up together with them in the clouds- and so We shall ever be
with the Lord.  All this shows that they thought of
the heavenly kingdom as being an inheritance upon
which they expected to enter, not as individuals, but
as a body of brethren in Christ, already joined in the
power of an endless life, and an endless love, in the
church on earth.
They also believed that as soon as one was partaker
of Christ's grace and life, and entered the fellowship
of the saints in the church, that hlie was then already
in present and eternal fellowship and sympathy with
all the saints on earth and in heaven. They had no
fears of any intervention which would interrupt or
frustrate this fellowship.  The church, in their minds
and hearts, was not two families, one on earth and one
in heaven, which they expected only finally to be
united; but, in Him it was now one family, united by
life-ties, which stand in no hindering affinities with
time and space  "the whole family in heaven and
earth."  Hence  the apostle says to those  Hebrew
Christians, who had entered the fellowship of the saints
in Christ-"Ye ARE come"-not ye shall hereafter
come; but now, having entered the family of Christ
on earth, you are one also with those in heaven-" Ye
are come unto Mount Zion, and unto the city of the
living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumr.erable company of angels, to the general assembly
an, Church of the First-Born, which are written in
heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits
144 
AMONG  TIIE  tPOSTLES.
of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator
of the new covenant." Ileb. xii. 22-24.
Such was their idea of the future world; in such a,
living connection did they believe themselves to stand
with it; and such was their conception of the nature
of that bond which united them to Christ and to each
other, in this life and in the next. We may therefore
confidently expect to find, in the teachings of the apostles, some allusions by which we may discover their
belief in the heavenly recognition among saints.  Such
ailusions there are.
There is a hint on this subject in the passage, Col. i
28.  "Christ in you, the hope of glory:  whom  we
preach, warning every man, and teaching every man
in all wisdom; that we gmay present every man perfect
in Christ Jesus."  Here the apostle professes to feel
it to be his duty, as a minister having the charge of
souls, not only to warn and teachl them, but also to
"present" every one at last perfect in Chlrist to God.
This presenting we must take in the same sense as that
passage of the Saviour is to be taken: "those that
thlou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost."
lie expected to have an eye upon them, and to feel
concerned for them, to the end of their life; and he
would only be discharged of his responsibility to them
by presenting them perfect at the judgment.  In that
day, then, he expected to recog,nize them, as those
which once belonged to his charge, single them out,
and lead them, as fully redeemed through his ministry,
to Christ.  I-lowv could this be done without knowing
them?
13
145 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
A  similar passage runs thus: "'We are your  rejoi(ing, even as ye also are ours in the day of the
Lord Jesus."  2 Cor. i. 14.  He reminds the saints of
Corinth of the mutual help and happiness which they
had enjoyed together, and assures them that this will
one day be to them a source of mutual rejoicing. When
will this mutual joy take place?  The answer is, "in
the day of the Lord Jesus" -which is evidently the
day of judgment. This implies that, in that final
meeting they will know each other; if not, how could
they rejoice together?
The doctrine of heavenly recognition is involved in
the passage: "Knowing, that he which raised up the
Lord Jesus, shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall
present us with you." 2 Cor. iv. 14. From the context it is plain that the apostle refers to their persecutions at Philippi, from which he writes, and of their
sufferings in consequence.   He intimates to the saints
at Corinth, that these troubles may even bring them
to their death; but this, he would say, is not to be
dreaded; for it will neither destroy nor separate them
from each other, or from him; for "he which raised
up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and
shall 1)resent us wtith you."
Still more conclusive on this subject is the apostle's
language to the saints of Thessalonica, whom he, by
his ministry, had brought into the faith and fold of
Christ.  "For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of
rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our
Lord Jesus Christ at his coining? For ye are our
glory and joy." 1 Thess. ii. 19, 20. There can here
be no mistake as to the time when the apostle expects
146 
AMONG THE APOSTLES.
to have these saints as his joy and his glory; for it is
expressly mentioned -"in the presence of our Lord
Jesus Christ at his coming"-in the last judgment.
That they shall then be with him is his hope, even
though he should see them on earth no more. This is
already his joy, for he is glad in the prospect of such a
meeting at last. He expects this meeting to be an
honour to him, though he at present suffer shame, for
they are his "crown." He was instrumental in "turn..
ing them to righteousness," and now he knows that
"in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his
coming," they will shine in his crown of rejoicing "as
the brightness of the firmament," and " as the stars
for ever and ever." He had gone forth weeping,
"bearing precious seed," but then he "shall doubtless
come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with
him."  That this text ought to be taken as a proof of
future recognition, is the opinion of the learned Dr.
MIacknight.  We quote his words: "The manner in
which the apostle speaks of the Thessalonians, shows
that he expected to know his converts at the day of
judgment.  If so, we may hope to know our relations
and friends then. And, as there is no reason to think
that in the future life we shall lose those natural and
social affections, which constitute so great a part of
our present enjoyment, may we not expect'that these
affections, purified from every thing animal and terrestrial, will be a source of our happiness in that life likewise?"
If any thing more is necessary to show that the
apostle looked forward with joy to a meeting with his
converts in heaven, we may refer to the context, which
147 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
joins in urging this meaning upon the passage quoted
He speaks of his absence from them, and of his great
desire to see them again.   "But we, brethren, being
taken from you for a short time in presence, not in
heart."  He had a "great desire" to see their face,
and "endeavoured" to come to them; "but Satan
hindered him," and he was not now certain whether
they should ever meet, for they were in "tribulation,"
"affliction and distress."  Chap. iii. 3.  How thiese
would end none could tell.  Perhaps they would end
in death; but in that case, they looked forward still
with joy to the day of the Lord's coming, when they
should meet and rejoice together.
Paul, exhorting his "beloved" among the Philippians to faithfulness, says -"that I may rejoice in
the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, nor
laboured in vain."  Phil. ii. 16.  Ile wishes, in the
day of Christ, to meet them, so that he may "rejoice"
over them, and see, in their salvation in heaven, that
he has not "laboured in vain."  Equally strong, in
favour of the doctrine of a mutual meeting in heaven,
between Paul and his converts, is the passage in
2 Thess. i. 7 —"And to you, who are troubled, rest
with its, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from
heaven with his mighty angels." Here again he refers
to the final day, and says to them in reference to it:
"To them which trouble you God will give as a recompense'tribulation;' but to you who are troubled," he
will give "rest with us."  After the storms of life,
with all the wrath of their enemies, shall have h.trm
]essly blown over them, they will all meet, and rest to
148 
AMONG TIlE APOSTLES.
gether, as vessels after a tempestuous voyage, in the
haven of celestial peace.
Is it a joy too low for saints in heaven, thus tic
meet, know, and love? What joy on earth is so pure
and sweet as to bless others, or to be blest and feet
grateful for good received?  How much more -how
unspeakably more and purer must the joy be, which
those feel in heaven, who have laboured, prayed and
wept together on earth, when they are at last safcly
landed together in realms of endless bliss!
Such, Christian pastor, is thy heart's delight,
To serve thy God, and see thy people share
His service, led by thee: with them how bright
The joy to come, let holy Paul declare;
A joy, a glory, and a crown of light,
Which kitngs might envy, and exult to wear!
The doctrine of heavenly recognition comes clearly to
view in Paul's words of comfort to the Thessalonian
Christians on the death of their friends.  "I would
not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them
which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others
which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died
and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus
'ill God bring with him. For this we say unto you by
the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent
them which are asleep.  For the Lord himself shall
descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of
the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the
deadil in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive
and remain shall be caught up together with them in
the clouls, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shalh
13*
14f) 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
we ever be with the Lord.   Wherefore  comforti one
another with these words."   1 Thess. iv. 13-18.
Let it be kept in mind that these are intended to be
words of comfort: "Wherefore comfort one another
with these words."  They were written to those who
sorrowed "concerning them which are asleep" -their
dlear friends who had died.  Why did they sorrow and
mourni for them? Not because they feared that they
would not rise again; for they were not ignorant of
the doctrine of the resurrection.  This is plain from
his telling them that they should not mourn for their
dead as others, the heathen, "which have no hope"as though he had said you ]rave hope, mourn not like
those who have none.   Like Martha, they knew that
their friends should rise in the resurrection at the last
day.  It is evident then, that though they believed in
a resurrection just as we do, yet like we, they mourned
and sorrowed on account of the absence of their dead,
under a feeble faith lest they should not see them
again, though they should rise from the dead.  Ihence
we see that the apostle supposes thie existence of their
belief in the resurrection; he does not announce this
truth to them.   Ie teaches the order, and the results,
of the resurrection, and not that there shall be one.
In comforting them, then, he goes on to show that
their dead shall not only rise, but also that they shall
be joined together after they have risen; for "them
also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him."
Not only you, but them also.  "With him"-they will
be in company with Christ when he shall come to judge
the world; and, seeing Him, you shall also see them
which he shall bring with him.  "For this we say. we
150 
AMONG  TIIE APOSTLES.
which are alive and remain unto the coming of the
Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep." Though
we, who are alive, are now divided from those asleep,
and would thus seem to be better off, arrd have an advantage over them, yet there will be none in reality,
for both we and they shall be together again before we
finally enter into the heavenly life.  "For the Lord
himself shall descend, and the dead in Christ shall rise
first."  Before we or Christ shall leave the earth, the
dead whom  you mourn shall rise.  " T/len" -when
they have risen -" "we which are alive and remain
shall be caught up togethier ttitl titena."  "1 And so shall
we"- that  is. both them and we - "be ever with the
Lord."   Seeing, then, Christ will come thus and raise
our dead, and take us "together with thllem," where
" we shall ever be with the Lord," why should we sorrow like those who have no hope of this kind? Rather
let us "comfort one another with these words."
If the apostle had not intended by these words of
comfort more than merely to give them assurance that
their dead should rise, he would have concluded with
saying,'so you see your dead shall rise,' instead of
saying as he does, "so shall we ever be with the Lord."
Then, too, he would have ended with the words, " the
dead in Christ shall risc first;" but, instead of this, he
follows those who sleep in Jesus after they have risenthus, " then"- after they have risen -" we which are
alive and remain shall be caught uip together with him
in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air."  Then he
ends the whole with the sweet inference which contains
exactly the consolation they needed -" and so shall we
be ever with the Lord."  They ask not by their present
1,) I 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
tears, shall our dead rise? this they already knew;
but shall we see them, and be with them again, after
they have risen? To this question the apostle's concluding inference is the direct and satisfactory answer:
"So shall u,e be ever with the Lord.  Wherefore comfort one another with these words."   So clearly and
conclusively does this consolatory passage teach the
doctrine of heavenly recognition.
The apostle John, when rapt in holy vision on the
Isle of Patmos, "looked, and behold, a door was opened into heaven."  He saw things, in that glance into
the future life, which warrant us abundantly to infer
the truth of the doctrine of heavenly recognition.
Then was there a remembrance of the earth, for he
heard them speak of the "Lamb slain" on Calvary.
He sees those who "came out of great tribulation,"
connecting thus their present condition with their history of sorrow upon the earth.  Rev. vii. 13, 14.  It
is remarkable in reference to our doctrine, that the
elder encourages John to ask questions in regard to
those whom he sees: "And one of the elders answered,
saying unto me, what are these which are arrayed in
white robes, and whence came they?" How naturally
will it lead to recognition and acquaintance, if, when a
saint of eminence and glory appears, we may feel it
proper to ask, who is it? and whence came he? This
John was encouraged to do -why may not we?
We find, in this vision, that the saints in heaven
remember and speak of the "kindreds, and tongues,
and people, and nations," out of which they have been
redeemed.  Rev. v. 9.  How could this be without a
perpetuation of all the faculties necessary to recogrni.
15" 
AMONG THE APOSTLES.
tion? Remarkable, also, is the passage, Rev. vi. 9 — 1,
lwhich we will quote in the way of paraphrase:  "And
when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar
the souls of them that were slain for the word of God,
and for the testimony which they held."  They were
therefore recognized as martyrs and confessors.' And
they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, 0 Lord,
holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood
on them that dwell on the earth." Here is a recollection of earth, and a knowledge of the present condition
of those who had slain these martyrs. "And white
robes were given unto every one of them; and it was
said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little
season, until their fellow-servants also and their brcth?ren, that should be killed as they were, should be
fulfilled." This shows the continued interest which is
kept up in heaven, on the part of the saints, in their
brethren and fellow-servants upon the earth. We may
well ask, if such acquaintance and friendly concern is
kept up across the chasm of death, will it not be fully
renewed, when once all are over on the eternal side?
We have reserved for the conclusion of this chapter
the strong proof in favour of perpetuated friendship
and heavenly recognition, derived from the nature of
love, as exhibited in the teachings of the apostles.
"CHARITY NEVER FAILETH."  The word charity is
the same which is, in other places, translated love.
Love never ends, is the meaning of it.  It is here
ti anslated charity, because it has reference to that love
which is directed by one person towards another, which
is the proper meaning of charity. This love, between
saint and saint, never fails -never ends. Much which
153 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
the world calls love will of course end; because it tests
on a false basis, and is not therefore really love. Sonie
which professes to be love, rests on self-interest, and
some on passion; this will pass away with the causes
which produced it, like froth after the fermentation is
over. Pure love, however, even between man and
man, is a holy life, which has its ground in God, and
its life in love to Him. If we really love a fellow-being, it is because we love God, and because God loves
us and the being which we love. Any thing short of
this is "of the earth earthy," and will end in death,
if not sooner. That this is the true idea of love is
apparent from Scripture.  "Beloved, let us love one
another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth
is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth
not, knoweth not God; for God is love.  Beloved, if
God so loved us, wve ought also to love one another.
If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his
love is perfected in us. He that dwelleth in love,
dwelleth in God, and God in him. Herein is our love
made perfect.  There is no fear in love; but perfect
love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. Ite
that feareth is not made perfect in love.  If a man
say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar.
For hlie that loveth not his brother, whom he hath seen,
how can he love God, whom he hath not seen?"  "By
this we know that we love the children of God, when
we love God." 1 John iv. and v.
Does this earnest sententious language mean any
thing?  Alas! how little is it regarded!  This is the
pure philosophy and theology of love, cleansed from
all the vapourings of human passion. It is not built
151 
AMONG THE APOSTLES.
upon social convenience, upon worldly prudence, upon
fashionable cast, upon external beauty, upon a fleshly,
blind, sentimental sympathy, nor upon a platonic abstraction, which, like the music of the spheres, is much
talked of, but which no one has ever seen.
The law of heaven is love: and tho' its name
Has been usurped by passion, and profan'd
To its unholy uises through all time:
Still the eternal principle is pure.
It has its ground in God, and its life in his love to us,
and our love to Him. From this, it is evident, that no
love to friends is real, except it has its foundation and
source in love to Him. Love is the image of God in
us, for "God is love;" so that if we dwell in love, we
dwell in God, and his image dwells in us. Then we
love as he loved, with an eternal affection; for his
image in us can never perish. Whenever, therefore,
true love binds hearts together, the same cord binds
them also to God, which makes their union permanent;
so that in this case they are really "partakers of the
divine nature." This tie, being a divine tie, must last
while God lasts- for ever! This is an union of saints
with each other in the life of Christ; and because He
lives they shall live, being one with him in the power
of an endless life, and of an endless love. This love
never ends.
Hence it is also said, "charity beareth all thingsendureth all things." Lovely and appropriate in reference to this point is the song of the spouse, in the Song
of Solomon viii. 6, 7.  "Set me as a seal upon thine
heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as
155 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
death. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can
the floods drown it."
That the apostle, in saying that love never faileth,
has reference to its continuation in another life, is evident from the context, where he plainly refers to the
state of eternal perfection.  In this world — so he
argues -" we know in part, and we prophesy in part;
but when that which is perfect is come, then that which
is in part shall be done away."  HIere we are but.s
children, and all our faculties are imperfect; but when
we become more perfect in the eternal state, we shall
advance beyond our state of earthly imperfection.
When we are once in heaven, and see face to face, and
look no more at eternal things in the dim reflections
of a dark mirror, there still "abideth" the greatest of
all our graces, which is "charity."  If we believe, with
some, that faith and hope, having fulfilled their mission,
shall then cease, charity must still continue, or it would
not be greater than these other graces.  Or if we believe, with others, that faith and hope will there also
abide, then charity will also continue as the greatest
of them. Thus remains
Love the golden chain that binds
Tile happy souls above.
Such is the nature of love; it is divine- the divine in
us-the divine life uniting all to Christ, and each to
all.  It dies not.  Maost beautifully and truly does the
poet Southey sing of the eternal nature of holy love.
Most strongly does he reprove those who deny its con.
tinuance after death.   We quote it the niore gladly,
156 
AMONG THIE APOSTLES.
because of the touching manner in which he makes it
bear on the heavenly recognition.
They sin who tell us love can die;
\Vith life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.
In heaven ambition cannot dwell;
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell
Earthly these passions of the earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
But LOVE is indestructil)e.
Its holy flame for ever burneth,
From Lheaven it carne, to heaven returneth;
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,
At times d(eceived, at times opprest,
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in heaven its perfect rest.
It soweth here in toil and care,
But the harvest time of love is there.
Ol! when a mother meets on high
The babe she lost in infancy,
Ilath she not then, for pains and fears,
Tile day of wo, the  watchful night,
For all her sorrows, all her tears,
An over-paymnent of delighlt?
Blessed, in this land of partings and tears, is this glorious hope. Those friendly looks of love which faded
fi'om our day of joy in death, as stars fade in the light
of morning, are still shining on in heaven, though we
see them not, radiant in the beams of eternal love.
Inspired with the consoling hope that they shall shine
on us agaill, when, beyond the night of the grave, the
morning of an eternal day shall dawn upon us, we love
(,(d praise them still -  smiling thlrough our tears
Their sanctified images hover before the eyes of our
14
15'i 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
faith, as most  delightful allurements.   Wre think  of
them as  holier, happier than we, and long to be like
them. In the simplicity of childlike affection we thinkl
of them, and sing
Bright in that happy land
Beams every eye;
Kept by a Father's hand,
Love cannot die.
158 
AMONG THIE CIIRISTIAN FATHERS.
CHAPTER VIII.
ruStuluq jvrr uguitiu   muung t rt JC i                tlt   r.
ALL the ancient and pious fathers agreed in this. St. Cyprian
owns, that our parents, brethren, children, and near relations, expect us in heaven, and are solicitous for our good. St. Jerome
coinforts a good lady on this account, that we shall see our friends,
and know them. St. Augustine endeavours to mitigate the sorrow
of an Italian widow with this consideration, that she shall be restored to her husband, and behold and know him.-DR. EDWARDS.
WE reverence the early Christian Fathers as pious
men, not as inspired men. We love to know their sentimnents on any religious subject, because they lived in
the childlike age of Christianity, and drank  at the
fountain-head of revealed truth as well as of sacred
tradition. We introduce their testimony here by way
of keeping up unbroken the historical feature of our
doctrine, that we may follow it in the life and love of
the Church in all ages; and thus assure ourselves that
we are neither waking up an old heresy nor begetting
a new one.
In speaking of the doctrine of heavenly recognition
as held among the Jews, we rested an argument in its
favor on the fact of their having a great desire to lie
159 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
by the side of- their kindred in death. The same is
true of the early Christians. To bury their dead decently was considered an urgent religious duty; this
their affectionate feelings towards them forbade them
to neglect, and they always performed it with peculiar
promptness and devotion. In the early church, the
Christians often exposed themselves to the greatest
danger to get the bodies of the martyrs out of the
hands of their persecutors, that they might be decently
buried. According to the testimony of Tertullian,
collections were held in the church, which were devoted
to the burial of the poor. To bury the poor and strangers, says Lactantius, is the last and greatest duty of
love; and Augustine, says Stapfer, has written a whole
book on the care and attention due to the dead. This
was a peculiarity about them, which was so strikingly
prominent as to attract the attention of Julian the
Apostate; and it was even by him much admired and
commended. In times of persecution they buried their
dead secretly by night, because their persecutors denied
to them that privilege, when they were aware of it.See them!-affecting sight!-see them steal away, by
the moon's pale light, or rays of feebler stars, bearing
as sacred the lifeless but precious remains of their beloved dead!'Vith the plaintive mourner in the Night
Thoughts, -who, by persecutors, calling themselves
Christians, was compelled by stealth, and in the night,
to bury the body of his own daughter, -they could say
"With pious sacrilege a grave I stole."
The fact that the early Christians were prohibited
from burying their dead as a punishment, proves that
too 
AMION(' TIlE CHRISTIAN FATHERS.
their persecutors considered this their tenderest point,
and knew that in no other way could they afflict and
pain them more.  It seems, from this, that the desire
sacredly and decently to dispose of the bodies of their
dead, was their strongest passion: to this their hearts
clung longest and last.  For this, in the lovely spirit
of Tobit of Old,* and of Old Mortality in more modern days, they were willing, if need be, to brave dangel' and death!
Not only did they thus safely and decently deposit
the remains of their beloved dead, but they were also
in the habit of frequently visiting the place where they
lay; and in obscure and lonely catacombs, secretly
and often by night, did they seek a kind of nearness
and fellowship with them.   From this custom  they
were often called, by their heathen contemporaries,
" the light-hating people." By this daily contact and
communion with the sacred and venerable remains of
their ancestors, and the beloved relics of their kindred
and fiicnds, the fear of death was gradually made to
give place to a strong desire to die, in order to rejoin
the loved and gone before. This had, no doubt, much
to do with begetting that general desire for martyrdom
which caused it in early ages to be sought as a great
boon. Their minds in those days of persecution turned
instinctively away from the dark scenes of earthly trial
and conflict, to those far-off and peaceful abodes to
which their sainted friends had gone, "where the wicked
cease from troubling and the weary are at rest."
The early Christians had a holy horror for the practic. of burning the bodies of the dead, which was a
* Tobit i. 17-21, and ii. 1-9.
14 *
161 
HEAVENLY lRECOGNITION
custom at the time prevailing in the Roman empire.
It was, no doubt, the doctrine of the resurrection of
the body, and the belief in the perpetuation of its
identity in another life, where it might again be recognized and known, which inspired them with disgust for
a practice which seemed to indicate the belief that hope
ought in no way to cling to these lifeless remains. Their
tender and hopeful affection is beautifully seen in the
conduct of the congregation of Smyrna, in reference
to the body of Polycarp, their bishop, after he had
suffered martyrdom:  "We  gathered up his bones,"
was their affecting language, "which are more precious
than gold and jewels, and deposited them in a suitable
place; and God will grant us to assemble there in joy
and festivity, and celebrate the birth-day of his martyrdoni, in remembrance  of the departed champion,
and for the purpose of exciting and arming those whom
the conflict is still awaiting."* Who does not admire
their simple and affectionate devotion to their pastor,
who had not only taught them how to live for Christ,
but who was willing also for their sakes and for Christ's
to seal his ministry with his blood?  Can we believe,
that the affection which manifested itself so tenderly
for his body, did not also follow his spirit beyond the
grave, in the firm hope of a blessed and eternal reunion
in heaven?
It is also significant, in reference to this doctrine of
heavenly recognition, as held among the early Christians, that they associated the remembrance of the dead
in many ways with religious feelings, religious services
and ceremonies, and with religious hopes. Accordingly,
* Neander."
16;,) 
AMONG TIIE CHRISTIAN FATHIERS.
their pious consciousness led them to desire the burial
of their dead to be near the church.  Ilence it soon
became customary to secure a piece of ground for a
burial-place in connection with the church property,
and directly around their place of worship, which was
consecrated by religious solemnities as a sacred place
of repose for those who slept in Jesus.  This practice
still continues.  Ihere, then, the congregation of the
dead was with the congregation of the living, in token
of the eternal and indissoluble tie which binds together
the living and the dead in one eternal fellowship in
Christ.
There was, as is beautifully remarked by the late
and good Neander, very early, a "Christian custom
which required that the memory of departed friends
should be celebrated by their relations, husbands, or
wives, on the anniversary of their death, in a manner
suited to the spirit of the Christian faith and the Christian hope.  It was usual on this day to partake of the
communion under a sense of the inseparable jellowship
with those who had died in the Lord.   A gift was laid
on the altar in their name, as if they were still living
members of the church."
The same which is here said to have been done by
individuals was, according to the same historian, also
done by communities; which shows that it was a feeling that entered deeply into the general consciousness
of that age.  "While individual Christians and Christian families celebrated in this manner the memories
of those departed ones who were especially near to
them by the ties of kindred, whole commnunities celebrated the memory of those who, without belonging to
163 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
their own particular community, had died as witnesses
for the Lord.  The anniversary of the death of such
individuals was looked upon as their birth-day to a nobler existence. Great care was bestowed in providing
for their funeral obsequies, and the repose of their bodies, as the sanctified organs of holy souls, which were
one day to be awakened from the dead and restored to
their use under a more glorious form. On every re.
turning anniversary of their birth-day (in the sense
wvhich has been explained) the people gathered round
their graves, where the story was rehearsed of their
confession and sufferings, and the communion was
celebrated in the consciousness of a continued fellowship) with them, now that they were united with I-him
for whom, by their sufferings, they had witnessed a
good confession."
Thus with pious and lonely delight did the bereaved,
in the ancient church, cherish the memory of their
sainted dead, and cling with fondness to the hope of
meeting them again in a better world. The apparent
separation which death had caused only made them
more conscious of the necessity of a deeper tie, which
the grave could not break: this tic they found in their
mnystical union with Christ, and by all the means which
are intended to strengthen this union itself, they also
sought to bind themselves more closely to the dead in
Christ.
The interested reader will thank us for quoting in
full the beautiful testimony of Neander on tlis subject,
ill connection with a quotation from Cyprian. "As
Christianity in its general influence did not tend to
suppress but only to ennoble the natural feelings of
164 
AMONG THE CHRISTIAN FATIHERS.
man; as it opposed itself generally, as well to the
perver?ted education which would crush these natural
feelings, as to the unrestrained expression of them in
the rude state of nature; the same was its influence
also in relation to mourning for the dead.   From the
first, Christianity condemned the wild, and at the sIame
time hypocritical expressions of grief with which the
funeral procession was accompanied, those wailings of
the women who had been hired for the occasion, (mulieres pr,-eficoe;) yet it required no stoic resignation and
apathy, but mitigated and refined the anguish of sorrow, by the spirit of faith and hope, and of childlike
resignation to that eternal love, which takes, in order
to restore what it has taken, under a more glorious
form;  vhlich separates for the moment, in order to
reunite the separated in a glorified state through eternity."
AWhen multitudes at Carthage wvere swept away by
a desolating pestilence, Cyprian said to his church:"We ought not to mourn for those who are delivered
firom the world by the call of the Lord, since wve know
they are not lost, but sent before us; that they have
taken their leave of us in order to precede us.  We
may long after theit as we do for those who have sailed
on a distant voyage, but not lament them. We may
not here below put on dark robes of mourning, when
they above have already put on white robes of glory;
we may not give the heathens any just occasion to accuse us of weeping for those as lost and extinct. of
whom we say that they live with God, and of failing to
prove by the witness of our hearts the faith we cbnfess
with our lips. We, who live in hope, who believe in
165 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
God, and trust that Christ has suffered for us and risen
again; we, who abide in Christ, who through him and
in him rise again -why do we not ourselves wish to
depart out of this world? - or why do we lament for
the friends who have been se)arated from us, as if they
were lost?"*
Would it not increase the loveliness of our piety as
well as enrich the sources of our consolations, if we,
after these examples, communed more with the spirits
of the dead in the element of a holy love? We feel
bound, as Christians, to love all the saints among the
living, and to seek their affectionate fellowship; but
why, if
" Saints oni earth, and all the dead,"
make but one communion in Christ - why should we
not love the dead, think of them, and long after their
society as we do after those who have not yet crossed
that narrow flood which divides
"That heavenly land from ours?"
Yes, we should love them still. Let us endeavour to
hear by faith the sweet notes of their heavenly harpings, and catch the tender gleam of their eyes, as they
look toward us in deep unutterable love, till we feel
heaven drawing nearer to us, and ourselves drawing
nearer to it. Thus did the ancient Christians, while
they sat at the graves of those they had loved in life,
and still loved in death, with "childlike resignation to
that eternal love which takes, in order to restore what
* Neander's Hist. of the Church, vol. i. pp. 333, 334.
166 
AMIONG THE CIIRISTIAN FATIIERS.
it has taken under a more glorious form; which separates for a moment, in order to reunite the separated
in a glorious state through eternity."
At the close of his sermon on immortality, Cyprian
breaks out in a touchingly beautiful passage, directly
on the subject of the heavenly recognition: I translate
it from the German, as quoted by Johann Repomuk
Locherer, in his History of the Christian Religion and
the Church.  "Precious to us will be the day that shall
assign to each of us our place of abode, that shall remove us hence and release us from the snares of earth,
and bring us to Paradise in the heavenly king,dom.
Who, finding himself in a strange country, does not
earnestly desire to return to his Fatherland? Who,
about to sail in haste for his home and his friends across
the sea, does not long for a friendly wind, that he may
the sooner throw his arms around his beloved ones?
We believe Paradise to be our Fatherland: our parents
are the patriarchs; why should we not haste and fly
to see our home and greet our parents? A great host
of beloved friends awaits us there: a numerous and
various crowd, parents, brethren, children, who are secure in a blessed immortality, and only still concerned
for us, are looking with desire for our arrival.  To see
and embrace these    what a mutual joy will this be to
us and them!  What bliss, without the fear of death,
to live eternally in the heavenly kingdom! Hovw vast,
and of eternal duration, is our celestial blessedness!
There is the glorious choir of the apostles-there the
host of joyful prophets- there the innumerable coipany of the martyrs, crowned on account of their victory in the conflict of stiffering. There in triumph
167 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
are the pure virgins.  There the merciful, who have
fed and blest the poor, and, according to their Lord's
direction, have exchanged earthly for heavenly treasures, now receive their glorious reward.  To these,
dearly beloved brethren, let us hasten with strong desire, and ardently wish soon to be with them, and with
Chiis,.."
St. Ambrose, who flourished in the third century, in
a funeral oration, in reference to the death of the emperor ~alentinian, says: "Let us believe that Valentinian is ascended from the desert, that is to say, from
this dry and unmanured (inculto) place, unto those
flowery delights, wvhere being conjoined with his brother
(Gratian) lie enjoyeth the pleasures of everlasting
life."
This same St. Ambrose, in one of his epistles, comforts Faustinus on the death of his sister, thus: "Do
not the carcasses* of so many half-ruined cities, and
the funerals of so much land exposed under one view,
admonish thee that the departure of one woman, althlough a holy and admirable one, should be borne with
great consolation, especially seeing they are cast down
and overthrown for ever; but she being taken from us
but for a time, doth pass a better life there?"
In such like passages did the ancient Christian Fathers express their belief in the doctrine of a future
recognition among  the sainted dead.  Such  is the
mellow and soothing voice of precious consolation, as
it comes to us from pious bereaved hearts, over the
waste of many centuries.  These voices have acquired
* Ile seems to allude to some calamity by war, fire, flood or storm,
in which countries and cities were laid desolate.
168 
AMONG THE CHRISTIAN FATHERS.
a kind of venerable authority; and we listen to them
with silent reverence, as we do to the words of greyhaired wisdom.   Their preservation through so many
ages best shows how congenial they are to the wants
and wishes of the human heart. They have gathered
around them a savor and an unction, which indicates
an anointing from above. They are a living and practical commentary, extending through all ages of the
church, on that article of faith pronounced in deep and
steady assurance by millions: "I believe in the communion of saints."
1{;9 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
CHIIAPTER IX.
trournt4II   iXtltt llrng (amu           rflrfgjau!
Like the tower of David builded for an armory, whereon tihee
hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Song of Sol., iv. 4.
IN one sense the testimonies we here present have
only the weight of individual or private opinion, but
in another respect they are more.  There is strength
in the agreement of so many. These men had the
same love for truth as we have, the same motives to
seek it, and the same interest in it when it is found.
We may therefore be fully assured that they were,s
earnest and sincere in seeking the truth as we can
possibly be.  This certainly assists us in resting, with
some assurance and confidence, upon the conclusions
at which they have arrived.
In looking at the belief of others on this subject,
we feel also that we are not starting up a new doctrine,
or pursuing a new hope. There is truth in the postulate: what is true is not new, and what is new is not
true. Especially is this true in reference to doctrines
in religion. We feel, however, that we are not con
170 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS.
demned by this principle, when we find ourselves supported in this belief by the wisest and best men in all
ages and in all countries. We feel in hearing them
that, in a certain sense, we "hear the church."   We
feel convinced that an error could not have become so
general, have lived so long, and have reigned without
being questioned in so many bright and holy minds.
The Holy Spirit, who leads into all truth, would not
have suffered such a wide-spread and general defection
from the truth.
It will be seen farther that this is not the belief of
any one single sect, or of a class of sects, but that it
is the voice of the Church. Men of all creeds here
express their belief in this doctrine.  This gives it a
lovely catholic feature. It is one of those truths which
utters itself from the universal Christian mind and
heart. It is broad as human wants and woes. Like
the hope of heaven itself, it springs up in every heart
which seeks that friendly and peaceful abode.
Although what is here presented seems to be a chap,
ter of fragments, yet we believe it will be found that
the general stream of our argument flows on in living
connection through it. We desire that the testimony
of the early church, which we have exhibited in the
preceding chapter, may come down to us through these
voices in an unbroken series of witnesses- each under
the influence of the spirit of truth, but no one speaking
of himself. In this chapter, the reader may imagine
himself entering a spacious hall, illuminated by the
wisdom of ages, in which the wise and good are speaking with each other and with him on this subject; here,
while relaxing and regaling himself, new ideas will
171 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
start up in his mind and new comforts in his heart.
This chapter is "like the tower of David builded for
an armory, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers,
all shields of mighty men."
SECTION I.
ARGUMIENTATIVE.
I. DR. MARTIN LUTHER.
The following extract is part of a conversation which
took place between Luther, Justus Jonas, Michael
Celius, and the Counts of Mansfieldt, on Wednesday
evening, February 17th, 1546, at Eisleben. He died
next morning, the 18th, at 3 o'clock.  It is said that
during that evening which preceded his death "lhe
spake many earnest words in relation to death and the
eternal world."  The extract is taken from Luther's
AWorks, vol. viii., p. 384. Jena edition, 1562.
"The same evening Dr. Luther made remarks on
the question:  Whether in the future blessed and eterzal assembly and church we shall know each other?.
And as we anxiously desired to know his opinion, ho
said: How did Adam do?  He had never in his life
seen Eve-he lay and slept-yet, when he awoke he
did not say, Whence did you come? who are you? but
he said: "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of
my flesh."  How did he know that this woman did not
spring forth from a stone?  He knew it because he
was full of the lIoly Spirit, and in possession of the
true knowledge of God.  Into this knowledge  and
image we will, in the future life, again be renewed in
1'1'2 
A.'IONG TIIEOLOGIANS.
Christ; so that we will   know father, mother, and
one  another, on  sight, better than  did Adam  and
Eve."
II. IELA.XCTHIION. CRUCIGER. OLEVIANUS. SCALIGER.
"'3Ielancthon," says bishop Burgess, "a few days
before his death, told Camerarius that he trusted their
fiicndship should be cultivated and perpetuated in another world.  Cruciger, another of the school of the
Ref)rmers, spoke, in his last hours, of meeting and recognition.  Casper O1evianus,* a divine of Heidelberg,
when his son had been summoned to see him before he
should die, sent to him also the message, that'he need
not hurry: they should see one another in eternal life.'
So Joseph Scaliger spoke of'soon meeting and cinabracing(, no longer the subjects of age and infirmity.'
Ilow precious is this testimrony, in favor of this dcctrine of heavenly recognition;  showing  the power
whicl the sweet social attractions of heaven exelrcised
over these strong and earnest minds, in those stormy
times! The firmament of the church rolled in temipests,
haut thirough the darkness broke this soft lighlt from a
sereuer worldcl upon their souls —the more precious at
suchi a time.
* Olev'anus has the honor of sharing withl Ursiinus the auLthorshlip
of the oelebrated Iteidelberg Catechism-the sym)ol of all1 the Reformel  cliurches iu all lan.s and languages where the R(formed
f.aitk is held.
15*
173 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
III. TjIOIAS BECON,
Oize  of the -Enljlish Refor)ers, A. -). 1550.
Phil. If your friends live in the fear of God, and
depart in the Christian faith, they may be sure to come
thlithler, where you shall be; even unto the glorious
kingdom of God, where you shall both see them, know
them, talk with them, and be much more joyful with
them than ever you were in this world.
Claris. Some doubt of that.
Phii. Why so? Shall the knowlecldge, of God's elect
and chosen people be less in the kingdom of God than
it is in this world? We, being in this corruptible body,
know one another when we see not God, but with the
eye of faith; and shall we not know one another after
that we have put off this sinful body, and see God face
to face, in the sight of whomn is the knowledge of all
tliings?  We shall be like the glorious angels of heaven, who know one another; can it then come to pass
that one of us may not know another?   Shall we be
equal withl the angels in other things, and inferior unto
them in knowing one another?  We shall know and
see Christ as He is, who is the wisdom, image, and
brightniess of the heavenly Father; and shall the knovwledge of one another be hidden from  us?  We are
members all of one body, and shall we not know one
another?
We shall know our head, which is Christ, and shall
we not know ourselves?  We shall be citizens of one
heavenly city, where continual light shall be, and shall
wie be overwhelmed with such darkness that we shall
1'174 
AMIONG TIIEOLOGIANS.
not see and know one another?  They that in this
world continue together in one place but for a season,
know one another, and shall we, vwho for ever shall
continue together, sing,ing, praising, and magnifying
the Lord our God, not know one another?  They that
are in one household, and serve one lord and master,
know one another in this world, and shall not we know
one another, who in the king,domn of heaven whall continually serve the Lord our God together, with one
spirit and with one mind?   There is a certain knowledge one of another here in the earth, even amongst
the unreasonable and brute beasts, and shall our senses
be so darkened in the life to come, that we being immortal, incorruptible, and like unto the angels of God,
yea, seeing God face to face, shall not know one another? We shall know God as tie is, and shall we not
know one another?  Adam, before he sinned, being in
the state of innocence, knew Eve so soon as God
brought her unto him, and called her by her name;
and shall not we, being in heaven, where we shall be
in a much more blessed and perfect state than ever
Adam was in paradise, know one another?  Shall our
knowledge be inferior to Adam's knowledge in paradise?
When Christ was transfigured on Mount Tabor, his
disciples, Peter, James, and John, did not only know
Christ, but also MIoses and Elias, who talked there
with Christ, whom, notwithstanding, they had never
seen nor known in the flesh. Whereof we may learn,
that when we come to behold the glorious majesty of
the great God, we shall not only know our Saviour
Christ, and such as we were acquainted with in this
175 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
vorld, but also all the elect and chosen people of Go(],
who have been from the beginning of the worldly  As
the holy apostle saith, ye are come to the mount Sion,
and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, and
to the general assembly and church of the first-born,
which are written in heaven, and to God, the judge of
all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and
to Jesus the Mediator of the New Testament. When
we are once come into that heavenly Jerusalem, we
shall, without all doubt, both see and know all the holy
and most blessed company of the patriarchs, prophets,
apostles, and martyrs, with all others of the faithful.
As we are all members of one body, whereof Jesus
Christ is the Head, so shall we know one another, rejoice together, and be glad with one another.
IV. ARCIIDEACON WILLIAM PALEY.
If this (Col. i. 28) be rightly interpreted, then it
affords the manifest and necessary inference, that the
saints in a future life will meet and be known again to
one another: for how, without knowing again his converts, in their new and glorious state, could St. Paul
desire or expect to present them at the last day?
V. IREV. CIIARLES DRELINCOURT, PARIS.
Since God intends not to destroy those gifts and
ajilities, which hlie had bestowed upon us in this life,
much less shall he abolish our knowledge, which is one
of the brightest beams of glory.  This knowledge shall
be so far from diminishing or decaying, that it shall
Ili 6 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS.
then increase more and more, until it comes to the
hi,ghlest perfection.  As the air loseth nothing of its
twilight at break of day, when the sun riseth over our
heads, but it rather loseth all obscurity and darkness
which the presence of the sun driaws away, until it be
perfectly enlightened; likewise our understanding shall
lose nothing of that light and perfection which it receives now from the breaking of the day of God's
grace; but as the Sun of Righteousness riseth upon it
more and more in joy and salvation, it shall perfectly
lose all darkness and ignorance by degrees, until it be
fully enlightened. From hence we may probably conclude, that we shall know all the persons in heaven
whom we have known here on earth.  For if the glorified shall remember the wicked, who have tormented
them, they must needs remember all believers, who
have bestowed on them their alms, andl done them
good.
I am, therefore, more than fully persuaded, that we
shall know in heaven our parents and our friends, and
generally all the persons whom we have known here
below.
VI. REV. DR. EDWARDS.
It is reasonable to believe that the saints shall know
that they had such and such a relation to one another
when they were on earth.   The father shall know that
such a one was his child; the husband shall remember
that such a one was his wife; the spiritual guide shall
know that such belonged to his flock; and so all other
relations of persons shall be renewed and known in
heaven.   The ground of which assertion is this, that
177 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
the soul of man is of that nature that it depends not
)n the body and sense, and, therefore, being separated,
knows all that it knew in the body. And for this reason it is not to be doubted that it arrives in the other
world with the same designs and inclinations it had
here. So that the delights of conversation are continued in heaven. Friends and relations are familiar
and free with one another, and call to mind their former
circumstances and concerns in the world, so far as they
may be serviceable to advance their happiness.
VII. DR. GEORGE CHIIRISTIAN KNAPP,
Professor of Theology in the University of Halle.
According to the representations contained in the
holy scriptures, the saints will dwell together in the
future world, and form, as it were, a kingdom or state
of God. They will there partake of a common felicity.
Their enjoyment will doubtless be very much heightened by friendship, and by their confiding intercourse
with each other.  We  must, however,  separate all
earthly imperfection from our conceptions of this heavenly society. But that we shall there recognize our
former friends, and shall be again associated with them,
was uniformly believed by all antiquity.  This idea was
admitted as altogether rational, and as a consoling
thought, by the most distinguished ancient philosophers.
Even reason regards this as in a high degree pr,.)bable;
but to one who believes the holy scriptures it cannot
be a matter of doubt and conjecture.
178 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS,.
VIII. REV. JOIIN DICK, D. D.,
Professor of Theology to the United Session Clzureh.
It has been asked whether, in this blessed abode, thc
saints will know one another? One should think that
the question was unnecessary, as the answer naturally
presents itself to every man's mind; and it could only
have occurred to some dreaming Theologian, who, in
his airy speculations, has soared far beyond the sphere
of reason and common sense.  Who can doubt whether
the saints will know one another? What reason can
be given why they should not? Would it be any part
of their perfection to have all their former ideas obliterated, and to meet as strangers in the other world?
Would it give us a more favourable notion of the assembly in heaven, to suppose it to consist of a multitude
of unknown individuals, who never hold communication
with each other; or by some inexplicable restraint are
prevented, amidst an intimate intercourse, from mutual
discoveries?  Or have they forgotten what they themselves were, so that they cannot reveal it to their associates? What would be gained by this ignorance no
man can tell; but we can tell what would be lost by it.
They would lose all the happiness of meeting again on
the peaceful shore, those from whom they were separated by the storms of life; of seeing among the trophies of divine grace many of whom they had despaired,
and for whose sakes they had gone down with sorrow to
the grave; of knowing the good which they had been
honoured to do, and being surrounded with the individuals who had been saved by means of their prayers,
and instructions and labours.  Tiow could those whvliom
179 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
he hadl been the instrument of converting and buildil. g
up in the holy faith, be to the minister of the gospel a
crown of joy and rejoicing in the day of the Lord, if
he did not recognize them when standing at his side?
The saints will be free from the turbulence of passion,
but innocent affections will remain; and could they
spend eternal ages without asking, Are our children
here?  Are our still dearer relatives here?  Have our
fiiends, with whom  we took sweet counsel together,
found theilr way to this country, to which we travelled
in company till death parted us?
IX. REV. GEORGE BURGESS,
Bishol) of Maine.
That it should ever have been doubted whether the
inhabitants of the spiritual world recognize each other
in that abode, is but an example of the wide influence
of unbelief, su,ggesting the strangest dimness wherever
the scriptures had not spoken in the most explicit
words, even though the obvious reason for which the
words had not been spoken was, that to speak them
was needless.  IWhy should not the departed recognize
and be recognized?  How can their very nature and
being be so utterly changed that they should be able
to exist in the same world, to remember, and to be a
general assembly, a church, a society, without recognition? If the future life is the sequel and result and
retribution of the present, how can recognition fail?
Not a step can we proceed, not a conception can we
form, not a statement of divine revelation  can we
clearly embrace, in our contemplations of the future
life, without admitting or involving the necessity of
ISO 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS.
mutual recognition as well as mutual remembrance and
affection. Were MAloses and Elias unknowuv each to the
other? Did the martyrs below the altar utter the same
cry, without knowing the history of their companions,
each a stranger amongst strangers?  Was Abraham a
stranger to Lazarus, or was Lazarus seen and known
by the rich man only?  Could those who watch for
souls render an account for them, with joy or grief,
and yet not knowv their doom?  Could Christian converts be the "glory and joy" of an apostle at the
coming of the Lord, if he knew them not?  Could the
patriarchs be seen in the kingdom of God by none but
those who should be shut out?  All proceeds on the
supposition of just such knowledge there as here. It
is probable, indeed, that the human soul must always
clothe itself with form, even in the separate state; and
such a form would bear the same impress which had
been given to the mortal body. There is no extravagance in the wish of Doctor Randolph to know Cowper
above from his picture here, or in the same thought as
expressed in the verses of Southey on the portrait of
Ileber.
X. REV. WILLIAmI JAY.
It has been asked, shall we know each other in he,a
ven? Suppose you should not; you may be assured
of   this, that nothing will be wanting to your happiness.
lut      oh! you say, how would the thought affect me
nowv! Thlere is the babe that was torn from my bosom;
]low  l1vely then, but a cherub now!   There is the
friend, who was as mine own soul, with whom I took
sweet counsel, and went to the house of God in com      16
181 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
pany. There is the minister- whose preaching turned
my feet into the path of peace-whose words were to
me a well of life. There is the beloved mother, on
whose knees I first laid my little hands to pray, and
whose lips first taught my tongue to pronounce the
name of Jesus! And are these removed firom us for
ever? Shall we recognize them no more? - Cease
your anxieties. Can memory be annihilated? Did not
Peter, James, and John know Moses and Elias? Does
not the Saviour inform us that the friends, benefactors
have made of the mammon of unrighteousness, shall
receive them into everlasting habitations?  Does not
Paul tell the Thessalonians that they are his hope,
and joy, and crown, at the coming of our Lord Jesus
Christ?
XI. REV. J. W. NEVIN, D. D.,
Professor of Theology in the Seminary of thie German
]eformed Church.
That the saints in glory shall continue to know those
whom they have known and loved on earth, seems to
me to flow necessarily from the idea of their immor
tality itself; for this cannot be real, except as it includes personal identity or a continuation of the same
consciousness.  It is moreover a strictly catholic idea,
the sense of which has been actively present to the
mind of the church, through all ages, in her doctrine
of the " Communion of Saints." This regards not
merely Christians on earth, but also the sainted dead;
according to the true word of the hymn: "The saints
on earth and all the dead, but one conimunion make."
But communion implies a continuity of reciprocal know.
182 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS.
ledge and affection. If death sundered absolutely the
new consciousness of the believer from the old, there
could be no real spiritual conjunction of this sort between the living and the departed members of Christ's
body. There is a dangerous tendency in the religious
world at the present time towards a false view of this
relation, by which in fact the dead are taken to be so
dissociated from the living, as to have no part farther
in the onward movement of Christ's kingdom. But
this is an error full as bad, to say the least, as the old
superstition of invoking the saints and of praying for
the dead. The communion of saints now noticed has
regard of course to the order of things between death
and the resurrection. But if we are required to believe that disembodied spirits in the middle state still
retain their interest in those they have left behind
them in the mortal state, how shall we question their
power of recognition afterwards in the more perfect
resurrection state, when those who are now in two different states, (and still in communion,) shall be all
gloriously brought together again in one?
SECTION II.
ALLUSIONS IN WHICII THIS DOCTRINE IS TAKEN FOR
GRANTED.
I. JOHN CALVIN.
When Calvin was near his end, Farel, his early and
faithful friend, and now a venerable sage of eighty
years, desired once more to see himin in the flesh. Calvin dissuaded him- though he did nevertheless afterwards come from Neufchatel to Genoa, on foot, to see
183 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
his friend once more, and for the last time.   In his
letter to Farel, in which he takes his final leave from
him, as he then supposed, he says: "God bless you,
best and noblest brother; and if God permits you still
longer to live, forget not the tie that binds us, which
will be just as agreeable to us in heaven as it has been
useful to the church on earth."
II. REV. DR. JOhIN TILLOTSON.
Archbiishop of Canterbury.
When we come to heaven we shall meet with all
those excellent persons, those brave minds, those innocent and charitable souls, whom we have seen, and
heard, and read of in the world. There we shall meet
many of our dear relations and intimate friends, and
perhaps with many of our enemies, to whom we shall
then be perfectly reconciled, notwithstanding all the
warm contests and peevish differences which we had
with them in this world, even about matters of religion.
For heaven is a state of perfect love and friendship.
III. REV. RICHARD BAXTER.
I must confess, as the experience of my own soul,
that the expectation of loving my friends in heaven
principally kindles my love to them on earth. If I
thought that I should never know them, and consequently never love them after this life is ended, I
should in reason number them with temporal things,
and love them as such.  But I now delight to converse
with my pious friends, in a firm persuasion that I shall
converse with them for ever; and I take comfort in
184 
AMONG ThEOLOGIANS.
those of them that are dead or absent, as believing 1
shall shortly meet them in heaven, and love them with
a heavenly love that shall there be perfected.
IV. BISHOP IHALL.
Thou hast lost thy friend: - say, rather, thou hast
parted with him.  That is properly lost which is past
all recovery, which we are out of hope to see any more.
It is not so with this friend thou mournest for; he is
but gone home a little before thee; thou art following
him; you two shall meet in your Father's house, and
enjoy each other more happily than you could have
done here below.
V. DR. DODDRIDGE.
Let me be thankful for the pleasing hope that though
God loves my child too well to permit it to return to
me, he will ere long bring me to it. And then that
endeared paternal affection, which would have been a
cord to tie me to earth, and have added new pangs to
my removal from it, will be as a golden chain to draw
me upwards, and add one farther charm and joy even
to paradise itself.  Was this my desolation? this'my
sorrow'? to part with thee for a few days, that I imighit
receive thee for ever, (Philem., ver. 15,) and find thee
what thou art? It is for no language but that of heaven, to describe the sacred joy which such a meeting
mnust occasion.
VI. MELVILL.
It is yet but a little while, and we shall be delivered
from the burden and  the conflict, and, withl all those
16 *'
1.8?  I) 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
who have preceded us in the righteous struggle, enjoy
the deep raptures of a Mediator's presence. Then reunited to the friends with whom we took sweet counsel
upon earth, we shall recount our toil only to heighten
our ecstacy; and call to mind the tug and the din of
war, only that, with a more bounding throb, and a
richer song, we may feel and celebrate the wonders of
redemption.
VII. REV. J. F. BERG, D. D.
Go where we will, we find the sentiment that friendship is perpetuated beyond the grave. It is enshrined
in the heart of our common Christianity. The pure
unsophisticated belief of the vast majority of the followers of Christ is in union with the yearnings of natural affection, which follows its object through the
portals of the grave into the eternal world. What but
this causes the Christian parent, in the dying hour, to
charge his beloved children to prepare for a reunion
before the throne of the Lamb? Hle desires to meet
them there, and to rejoice with them in the victory
over sin and death.  The widow bending in bitter bereavement over the grave of him whom God has taken,
meekly puts the cup of sorrow to her lips, with the
assured confidence that the separation wrought  by
death is transient, and that they who sleep in Jesus
shall together inherit the rest that remaineth for the
people of God.  Thus the wormwood and the gall are
tempered by the sweet balm of hope, and heaven wvins
the attraction which earth has lost. Tell me, you who
have( seen the open tomb receive into its bosom the sacred trust commnaittedl to its keeping in hope of the first
186 
AMONG TIIEOLOGIANS.
resurrection -- you who have heard the sullen rumblilng
of the death-clods as they dropped upon the coffin-lid
and told you that earth had gone back to earth, when
the separation from the object of your love was realized
in all the desolation of bereavement, next to the thought
that ere long you should see Christ as he is and be like
Him, was not that consolation the strongest which assured you that the departed one whom God had put
from you into darkness, would run to meet you when
you crossed the threshold of mortality, and with the
holy rapture to which the redeemed alone can give
utterance, lead you to the exalte(d Saviour, and with
you bow at his feet, and cast the conclueror's crown
before thim.
SECTION III.
CONSOLATORY.
I. ULRICII ZWINGLIUS,
The Swiss Refor)zer.
There you may hope to see the society, thle assembly,
and the dwelling together, of all the holy, wise, faithful, heroic, firm, and virtuous, who have lived since the
beginning of the world. There you shall see the two
Adams, the saved and the Saviour. There you will see
Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob,  Judah,
Moses, Joshua, Gideon, Samuel, Phineas, Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, and the mother of God of whom he has
prophesied.  There  you  will see David,  Hezekiab,
Josiah, John the Baptist, Peter, Paul, &c. There you
will see yours who have gone before you, and all your
forefathers who have departed this life in the faith.  In
187 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
a word, no virtuous person, no holy mind, no believing
soul, has lived from the beginning of the world, or shall
yet live, that you shall not there meet with God.
II. BUNYAN'S DYING WORDS.
Weep not for me but for yourselves. I go to the
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will no doubt
receive me, though a sinner, through the medium of
our Lord Jesus Christ, where I hope we shall ere long
meet, to sing the new song and remain happy for ever,
in a world without end. Amen.
III. REV. WILLIAM DODD, D. D.
This is the joy, this is the grand source of consolation under the loss of friends,- we shall meet again!
They are delivered from their trial, while we are left
behind a few weary years longer; and behold, the time
of our departure also cometh, when we shall follow our
friends, and be for ever with them and with the Lord!
There shall the enraptured parents receive again their
much-loved child; there shall the child, with transport,
meet again those parents in joy, over whose graves,
with filial duty, he dropt the affectionate tear; there
shall the disconsolate widow cease her complaints; and
her orphans, - orphans now no more, - shall tell the
sad tale of their distress to the husband, the father;
distress even pleasing to recollect, now that happiness
is its result, and heaven its end!  There shall the soft
sympathies of endearing friendship be renewed; affectionate sisters shall congratulate each other, and faithful
friends again shall mingle converse, interests, anities,
and walk high in bl'ss with God himself.
188 
AMO.NG THIIEOLOGIANS.
IV. GEORGE HERBERT.
My hope is that I shall shortly leave this valley of
tears, and be free from all fevers and pain; and which
will be a more happy condition, I shall be free from
sin, andl all the temptations and anxieties that attend
it; and this being past, I shall dwell in the New Jerusalem; dwell there with men made perfect; dwell where
these eyes shall see my Master and Saviour Jesus; and
with him see my dear mother, and all my relations and
firiends. But I must die, or not come to that happy
place.
V. DR. PIIILIP DODDRIDGE.
I wonder at the weakness of our minds, that they
should be so much depressed with this short separation;
for these very scriptures assure us we shall meet with
themn again; for they and we being with the Lord, we
must be with each other. What a delightful thought
is this! when we run over the long catalogue of excellent friends, which we rashly say we have lost, to think,
each of us, I shall be gatihered to any people; to those
whom my heart still owns under that character, with
an affection which death could not cancel, nor these
years of absence erase.
VI. LAVEL.
Let those mourn without measure, who mourn without hope. The husbandman does not mourn, when he
casts his seed into the ground.  I-e expects to receive
it again, and more.  The same hope have we, respecting our friends who have died in faith.  "I would not
189 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
have you ignorant," says Paul, "concerning them who
are asleep, that ye sorrow not as others who have ino
hope; for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,
even so also them who sleep in Jesus will God bring
with him." He seems to say:'Look not on the dead
as lost. They are not annihilated. Indeed, they are
not dead. They only sleep; and they sleep to wake
again.' You do not lament over your children or
friends, while slumbering on  their beds.  Consider
death as a sleep from which they shall certainly awake.
Even a heathen philosopher could say that he enjoyed
his friends, expecting to part with them; and parted
with them, expecting to see them again. And shall a
heathen excel a Christian in bearing affliction with
cheerfulness?
VII. DR. THOMAS CHALMERS.
Tell us if Christianity does not throw a pleasing
radiance around an infant's tomb? And should any
parent who hears us feel softened by the remembrance
of the light that twinkled a few short months under
his roof, and at the end of its little period expired, we
cannot think that we venture too far, when we say that
he has only to persevere in the faith and in the following of the Gospel, and that very light will again shine
upon him in heaven. The blossom which withered here
upon its stalk, has been transplanted there to a place
of endurance; and it will then gladden that eye which
now weeps out the agony of an affection that has beenii
sorely wounded; and, in the name of Him who, if on
earth, would have wept along with them, do we bid all
believers present to sorrow not even as others which
190 
AMONG THEOLOGIANS.
have no hope; but to take.comfort in the hope of that
country where there is no sorrow and no separation.
VIII. REV. JOHN NEWTON.
I need not say to myself, or my dear friends who
are in the Lord, Quo nunc abibis in loco?  We know
where they are, and how employed. There I humbly
trust my dear Mary is waiting for me, and in the Lord's
own time I hope to join with her and all the redeemed
in praising the Lamb, once upon the cross, now upon
the throne of Glory.
IX. FENELON.
If we are sorrowing under a misfortune, of which
this world affords no alleviation, the death of those
most dear to us, let us humbly offer to our God the
beloved whom we have lost. And what, after all, have
we lost? -the remaining days of a being, whom we
indeed loved, but whose happiness we do not consider
in our regret; who, perhaps, was not happy here, but
who certainly must be much happier with God; and
whom we shall meet again, not in this dark and sorrowful scene, but in the bright regions of eternal day, and
partake in the inexpressible happiness of eternity.
He has placed the friends whom  he has taken from
us in safety, to restore them to us in eternity. Hie has
deprived us of them, that he may teach us to love them
with a pure love, a love that we may enjoy in his presence for ever; he confers a greater blessing than we
were capable of desiring.
191 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Very soon they who are separated will be reunited,
and there will appear no trace of the separation. They
wvho are about to set out upon a journey, ought not to
feel themselves far distant from those who have gone
to the same country a few days before. Life is like a
torrent; the past is but a dream; the present, while
we are thinking of it, escapes us, and is precipitated
into the same abyss that has swallowed up the past;
the future will not be of a different nature; it will pass
as rapidly. A few moments, and a few more, and all
will be ended; what has appeared long and tedious,
will seem short when it is finished.
X. REV. JOIIN JAMES, D. D.,
Prebendary of Peterborough.
It is no dreaming fancy to expect, that in another
world we shall preserve our identity-shall know and
be known even as in this.  Let the mourner in Sion
continue "patient in well-doing;" "looking for and
hasting to the coming of the Lord," when shall begin
the reunion of kindred spirits, whom in this world
death had separated. Parent to child, sister to brother, husband to wife, friend to firiend, shall then be
restored-a blessed communion of saints, whom  nor
sin nor sorrow shall sever more.
XI. REV. TIIOMAS SMYTH, D. D.
Can we not with David rejoicingly declare,'They
cannot come to us, but we can go to them?' Yes, we
can go to them.  "They are not lost, but gone before."
192 
AMONG TIIEOLOGIANS.
There in that world of light, and love, and joy, they
await our comling. There do they beckon us to ascend.
There do they stand ready to welcome us. There may
we meet them, when a few more suns or seasons shill
have cast their departing shadows upon our silent
grave.  Then shall cur joy be full and our sorrows
ended, and all tears wiped from our eyes.
Death separates, but it can never disunite those who
are bound together in Christ Jesus. To them, death
in his power of an endless separation, is abolished. It
is no more death, but a sweet departure, a journey
fi-om earth to heaven.  Our children are still ours. We
are still their parents. We are yet one family- one
in memory-one in hope-one in spirit. Our children
are yet with us, and dwell with us in our sweetest,
fondest recollections. We too are yet with them in the
bright anticipations of our reunion with them, in the
glories of the upper sanctuary. We mingle together
indeed no more in sorrow and in pain,
But we shall join love's buried ones again
In endless bands, and in eternal peace.
XII. REV. S. S. SCHMUCKER, D. D.,
Professor of Theology, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
And how could Abraham's bosom, the region of the
blessed, be other than a state of enjoyment to the
Christian?  There we shall see Lazarus, and be comforted with him! There we shall see father Abraham,
and rest from all our sorrows, reclining on his bosom!
There we shall see the ancient patriarchs and prophets!
17
193 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
There we shall see Jeremiah, who wept over the deso.
lations of Israel; and Daniel, who, in defiance of the
king and all his nobles, prayed three times a day to
his God, and whom his God saved from the mouth of
the lions!  There we shall find the apostles, and Luther, and Calvin, and Zwinglius, and all that host of
worthies of whom the world was not worthy, who,
amid a wicked and perverse generation, maintained
their fidelity to the end, and received not the mark of
the beast.  How can the place of departed spirits fail
to be a place of joy to the Christian? for there he shall
meet all those pious relatives and friends whom heaven
indulgent gave to him awhile, and heaven mysterious
soon resumed again.
I94 
AMONG THE POETS.
CHAPTER X.
XPSEPIIIR  VxrrugIitinIT gnuug t? h~urts
PoTtry has been to me its own "exceeding great reward:" it
has soothed my afflictions; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude; and it has given me the habit of
wishing to discover the Good and the Beautifil in all that meets
and surrounds me.                                   COLERIDGE.
THAT is a significant and instructive fable, which the
ancients record, of Orpheus the god of Poetry and
Song. His wife Eurydice, according to the story, died
of the bite of a serpent. Her husband was so affected
by grief for her loss, that he followed her into the
shades, whither her spirit had gone. As music and
poetry were natural to Orpheus, he employed their
powerful influence in the infernal regions with such
success as to move even Pluto and Proserpine to compassion, and induced them to restore to him his beloved wife. Thus the injury which the serpent inflicted
was repaired, and even death and hell were induced to
let go their hold, charmed by the song of Orpheus. Is
not this a prophecy of another charmer, who heals the
poisonous wounds of another serpent, and turns back
the captivity of death into a life everlasting? Not less
significant is the end of the fable according to which
Orpheus concluded his life on earth by being changed
195 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
into a swan, which is the cause of its sweet notes in
dying. We know of another, from whose death saints
and angels have learned their sweetest song, which,
like the notes of the dying swan, has lingered upon
the lips of the saints in the hour of death in unearthly
strains.
This is a fable, but it may show us what a powerful
and soothing influence poetry and song were known to
exert in all ages and among all nations. Though it
will not bring our loved ones back, as did the notes of
Orpheus, it may teach us whither they have gone, and
encourage us to look for them again, -and this it will
do, not in cold abstract logic, but in the sweet persuasive language of the heart. It may be to our hearts
what the warm breath of the south is to flower-budsit can cause them to open in love and hope towards
those whose warm affections seem for a time to have
retired firom us into the silent mysteries of the tomb.
It can soothe us, as with a soft friendly voice, while
we continue to weep along life's checkered way. Who
has not felt its power? The wisest and the best have
crowned their wisdom with its garlands, and have sat,
like children, at its feet in the quiet hours of life.
Even the Bible is not ashamed of it. It hangs its
heavenly colourings around the visions of the prophets,
and mingles its strains with the public and private devotionrs of the saints.
"The great end of Poetry is to instruct, at the same
time that it gives pleasure.   By the decorations of
elegance, and the harmony of numbers, it is well calculated to win its way both to the heart and understanding,-4like a still and placid stream which beautifies and
196 
AMIONG TIIE POETS.
enrichles all around it.  hlence, from the earliest ages,
when the first hymn of praise, as it were the song of
the morning star, was borne on the wings of the cherubim to the throne of glory, Poetry has ever been a
principal mnedium for communicating instruction to the
mindcl, and captivating the affections of the heart. The
truth of this remark is well illustrated by the use which
all know has been made of it by the poets of the ancients, to instruct in the various arts and sciences, as
well as to incite to deeds of heroism, and to lives of
virtue."
The representation of this doctrine by the Poets will
be useful, and we believe welcome, to our readers.  In
following this subject among the poets, we arrange their
ideas under three heads - as argumentative - as containing incidental allusions to this subject - and as
consolatory.
SECTION I.
ARGUMENTATIVE POETRY.
I.
In the first piece we introduce, the reader will find a
number of forcible arguments, beautifully connected,
and happily expressed. They are so much the more
striking to us, because they are placed in such fair
contrast with the opposing error.
RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
Some tell us all earthly love must die,
Nor enter the heavenly land;
That friendship is lost above the sky
'Midst the happy and joyous band.
And can it be so? On that blissful shore
shall wve nimeet the lov'd we have lost. no moreI
1'; *
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HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
They tell us that those unseen on earth
Shall be dear as an only child;
And the mother belov'd, who gave us birth,
Shall be met as the savage wild!
And can it be so? in that land of love,
Are there no joys of reunion above?
They tell us the pastor, who taught us the way
To the blessed abode of the just,
Shlall know us no more in eternity's day,
Tho' the body's redeem'd from the dust.
And can it be so, in that world of bliss?
Shall we love less there than we do in this?
They tell us the martyr who fell on the shore,
'Mid the war-cry, and horror untold,
Shall meet his lov'd flock with joy no more
Than the merchant who traffics for gold.
And will it be so, in that golden street
Where Williams, and all he held dear, shall meet?
Is ig,norance found in the spirit's home?
Is memory left in the dust?
Then shall we not feel that we stand alone,
As strangers among the just?
And can it be so, in that city of light,
WVhere love is unfading, and joy ever bright?
Is darkness found in that cloudless sky
Veiling the life just pass'd:
Forgotten the friends who saw us die
All faithful and true to the last?
And can it be so? - Shall we mneet no more
When this feverish dream of life is o'er?
Then where is the pastor's "crown of joy,"
And where the reward of the saint's employ?
And why do we cherish this restless love,
If all will be lost or forgotten above?
Oh! can it be thus,-in that blissful place
Wihere we see the redeem'd( ones face to face?
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AMONG THE POETS.
II.
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
Oft wNeeping memory sits alone,
Beside some grave at even:
And calls upon some spirit flown,
Oh say shall those on earth our own,
Be ours again-in heaven!
Amid these lone sepulchral shades,
Where sleep our dear ones riven,
Is not some lingering spirit near,
To tell if those divided here,
Unite and know-in heaven?
Shall friends who o'er the waste of life,
By the same stornis are driven;
Shall they recount in realms of bliss,
The fortunes and the tears of this,
And love again- in heaven!
When hearts, which have on earth been ono,
By ruthless death are riven:
Why does the one which death has reft
Drag off in grief the one that's left,
If not to meet- in heaven?
The warmest love on earth is still
Imperfect when'tis given;
But there's a purer clime above,
Where perfect hearts in perfect love
Unite: and this- is heaven.
If love on earth is but "in part"
As light and shade at even:
If sin doth plant a thorn between
The truest hearts; there is, I ween
A  perfect love-  in heaven
199 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Oh happy world! Oh glorious place!
Where all who are forgiven,
Shall find their loved aid lost below,
And hearts, like meeting streams, shiall flow
For ever one-in heaven.
III.
The middle verse of the preceding poem embodies
the idea, that sometimes grief for the dead has the
effect of drawing the bereaved one after the one that
has departed. That poem was written before the author
had contemplated a volume on this subject; and also
before he had seen the remarkable incident upon which
the following beautiful and affecting verses are founded.
This instance, as well as others which might be produced, shows that the idea above referred to is no fancy.
It certainly shows a strength of affection which it is
hard to consider mortal. It is, indeed, only a verification of the scripture declaration: "Love is strong as
death!" Songs viii. 6.
AN INDIAN MOTHER'S LOVE.
OS-HE-OUH-MAI, the wife of Little Wolf, one of the
Iowa Indians, died while at Paris, of an affection of the
lungs, brought on by grief for the death of her young
child in London. Her husband was unremitting in his
endeavours to console and restore her to the love of
life; but she constantly replied- "No! no! my four
children recall me. I see them by the side of the Great
Spirit. They stretch out their arms to me, and are
astonished that I do not join them."
200 
AMONG THIIE POETS.
No! no! I must depart
From earthli's pleasant scenes, for they but wake
Those thrilling memories of the lost which shake
The life-sands from my heart.
Why  do ye bid me stay 
Should the rose linger when the young buds die,
Or the tree flourish when the branches lie
Stricken by sad decay 
Doth not the parent dove,
When her young nurslings leave their lowly home
And soar on joyous wings to heaven's blue dome,
Fly the deserted grovel
Why then should I remain?
Have I not seen my sweet-voiced warblers soar,
So far away that Love's fond wiles no more
May lure them back again?
They cannot come to me;
But I may go to them-and as the flower
Awaits the dewy eve, I wait the hour
That sets my spirit free.
Hark! heard ye not a sound
Sweeter than wild-bird's note or minstrel's lay?
I know that music well, for nilght and day
I hear it echoing round.
It is the tunefifl chime
Of spirit voices! -'tis my infant band
Calling the mourner from this darkened land
To joy's unclouded clime.
My  beautiful, my blest!
I see them there, by the Great Spirit's throne;
With winning words and fond beseeching tone
They woo me to my rest.
201 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
They chide my long delay,
And wonder that I linger from their home;
They stretch their loving arms to bid me come —
Now would ye have me stay!
E. S. S.
IV.
KNOWLEDGE OF EACH OTHER IN HEAVEN.
I count the hope no day-dream of the mind,
No vision fair of transitory hue,
The souls of those, whom once on earth we knew,
And lov'd, and walk'd with in communion kind,
Departed hence, again in heaven to find.
Such hope to nature's sympathies is true;
And such, we deem, the holy word to view
Unfolds: an antidote for grief designed,
One drop from comfort's well.'Tis true we read
The Book of life: but if we read amiss,
By God prepared fresh treasures shall succeed
To kinsmen, fellows, friends, a vast abyss
Of joy; nor aught tile longing spirit need
To fill its measure of enormous bliss.
BISHOP MANT.
V.
In the beautiful poem of Montgomery, this doctrine
is sweetly imbedded. It is not so much the logic as
the life which gives this piece such strength to win our
heart. We call it beautiful, and feel its influence,
without asking closely in what its strength lies. Like
a real friend, it bears acquaintance, and yields more
richly in proportion as it is studied. Thousands have
loved it who could not tell why - a real evidence of its
excellence- because it lays hold of our life deeper
than that part of us which renders a reason.
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AMIONG TIIE POETS.
NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE.
Friend after friend departs;
Who hlath not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts,
That finds not here an end:
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying none were blest.
Beyond the flight of time,
Beyond the reign of death,
There surely is some blessed clime,
Where life is not a breath;
Nor life's affections transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upward and expire.
There is a world above,
Where parting is unknown;
A long eternity of love,
Formed for the good alone;
And faith beholds the dying here,
Translated to that glorious sphere.
Thus star by star declines,
'Till all are passed away,
As morning high, and higher shines,
To putire and perfect day;
Nor sink those stars in empty night,
But hide themselves in heaven's own light.
SECTION II.
INCIDENTAL ALLUSIONS.
By these incidental allusions to this doctrine among
the Poets, we learn not only how generally it was believed by them, but also how firmly and comfortably it
sits upon the heart, especially in its silent and medita
203 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
tive hours. We see how naturally the heart, flowing
into the griefs of others in the sweet stream of song,
glides calmly on to this delightful conclusion.  Most
of these sentiments were expressed under a fresh sense
of bereavement, and are therefore real living words.
Either the Poet is comforting his own aching heart, or
the heart of a friend. If it is his own, it is significant
that he makes no apology and offers no argument in
favour of the sentiment he utters, but firmly and in
faith alludes to it as a settled truth.   When it is another's sorrow he seeks to assuage, the allusion shows
how naturally he takes it for granted, that the friend
whom he thus incidentally reminds of this doctrine has
no doubts as to its truth.
And how easily do our hearts and our convictions
follow him in these allusions. He speaks in us, and
we hear him gladly. Hle utters our griefs, he directs
our longings, better than we could ourselves; and we
are content that he should lead us on in the bright
path of our hopes, to find the loved and lost again.
I.
Here is a stanza, the full tenderness of which none
but a bereaved mother can feel.
Oi! when a mother meets on high,
The child she lost in infancy;
Hath she not then for pains and fears,
The day of woe, the watchful night,
For all her sorrows, all her tears,
An over-payment of delight?
204 
AMONG TIIE POETS.
II.
In the Sacred Lyrics of R. IHuie is a beautiful poem
on the death of his little son, which winds up with anl
fllusion to this doctrine. Here is the last verse.  Where
is there any scripture to forbid us the hope expressed
in the last line?
MAy little one, my fair one, thou canst not come to me,
Btt nearer draws the numbered hour, when I shall go to thee;
And thou, perchance, with seraph smile, and golden harp in hand,
Mlay'st come the first to welcome me, to our Emanucl's land.
III.
Ohl blissful scene! where severed hearts
Renew the ties most cherished;
Where nought the mourned and mnourner parts;
Where grief with life is perished.
Ohl! noughlt do I desire so well,
As here to die, and there to dwell!
IV.
All is not over with earth's broken tieWhere,  vlwhere should sisters love, if not ori high?
MRS. HEMANS.
V.
I look to recognize again, through the beautiful mask of their per      fiction,
I'lie dear familiar faices I have somewlile loved on earth;
I longr to talk witlh gratefil tongue of storms and perils past,
Alid praise the mighty Pilot that lath steered  us through theo
rapids.                                     M. F. TUPPER.
18
205 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
VI.
The saints on earth, when sweetly they converse,
And the dear favors of kind heaven rehearse,
Each feels the other's joys, both doubly share
The blessings which devoutly they compare,
If saints such mutual joy feel here below,
When they each other's heavenly foretastes know,
What joys transport them at each other's sight,
VWhen they shall meet in empyreal height!
Friends, even in heaven, one happiness would miss,
Should they not know each other when in bliss.
BISHOP KEI(.
VII.
There is only a certain class of mourners who can
feel the tenderness of the following touching allusion
of Southey. For them it is here inserted. As in
piety, so in mourning, there is a secret which belongs
entirely to those who have it by their own experience.
Our first-born and our only babe bereft!
Too fair a flower was she for this rude earth!
The features of her beauteous infancy
Have faded from me, like a passing cloud,
Or like the glories of an evening sky:
And seldom hath my tongue pronounced her name
Since she was summoned to a happier sphere.
But that dear love, so deeply wounded then,
I in my soul with silent faith sincere
Devoutly cherish till we meet again.
VIII.
'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.
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AMONG THE POETS.
IX.
A treasure but removedA bright bird parted for a clearer day      Yours still in heaven!
X.
A MOTHIER'S LAMENT.
I loved thee, daughter of my heart;
My child, I loved thee dearly;
And though we only met to part,  How  sweetly! how severely!
Nor life nor death can sever
My soul from thine for ever.
Thy days, my little one, were few;
An angel's morning visit,
That came and vanished with the dew,
'Twas here,-'tis gone —where is it!
Yet didst thou leave behind thee
A clue for love to find thee.
Sarah! my last, my youngest love,
The crown of every other!
Though thou art born in heaven above,
I am thine only Mother!
Nor will affection let me
Believe thou canst forget me.
Then -  thiou in heaven and I on earth  May this one hope delight us,
That thou wilt hail my second birth,
When death shall reunite us,
Where worlds no more can sever
Parent and child for ever.
MONTGOMERY.
207 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
XI.
DEPARTED FRIENDS.
How natural it is, when we gaze upon the bright
skies in a beautiful star-light night, to think of the
spirits of the dead! This all have experienced. Then,
what a feeling comes over us, strangely made up of
silent dread, inward joy, and holy longing. The poem
we here introduce, was written under the influence of
such a night scene, and commends itself to the heart.
WVho ever looked upon yon starry spheres,
Which brightly shine from out the dark blue sky,
Nor call'd to mind the friends of other years,
The hopes, the joys, the transient smiles and tears,
Gushing from out where buried memories lie,
And waking the full heart to highest ecstacy!
Oh, what a glorious vision, when the moon,
Silently gliding through her pathless way,
Has reached the extremest point of her high noon,
Shedding o'er this our earth her radiant boon,
WVhile twinkling stars, and orbs of steadier ray,
Shine with a light that mocks the intenser glare of day!
Oh, who has ever gazed on such a scene,
Nor thought the spirits of the blest were there?
Who, that beholds not in that blue serene,
Bright isles, the abode of pleasures yet unseen,
Except by those who, freed from mortal care,
Have winged their raptur'd flight to realms of upper air
The mother, who has watched with sleepless eye
Her babe, and rocked with tireless foot the while,
And when she saw the little sufferer die,
Bowed her meek head and wept in agony,
Fancies she hears, in yonder starry isle,
Her little cherub's voice, and sees his angel smile.
208 
AMIONG  TlIE POETS.
Oh, ye departed spirits of my sires,
And ye, the loved ones of my childhood's days,
While now I look on yonder heavenly fires,
Methinks I hear you tune your seraph lyres,
Methinks I see you bend your pitying gaze
On him who still must tread alone earth's gloomy maze!
Thou angel spirit, who so oft didst sing
My  infant cares to sleep upon thy breast,
Let me  but hear the rustling of thy  wing,
Around thy child its guardian influence fling!
Oh, come thou from the island of the Il)est,
Andl bear my weary soul up to thy sainted rest!
Can we forget departed friends. Ah, no!
Within our hearts their memory buried lies;
The thought that where they are, we too shall go,
Will cast a light o'er darkest scenes of wo;
For to their own blest dwellings in the skies,
The souls whom CHRIST sets free exultingly shall rise.
XII.
There is a sirngular thought in Southey's Ode on the
portrait  of Bishop H eber. Hie suggests that many of
tIeber's admirers
WVill gaze
Upon his effigy
'With reverential love,
Till they shall grow familiar with its lines,
And know him when they see his face in heaven!
Why may there not be truth in this beautiful thought?
We subjoin an incident which confirms it-an incident
which is by far too touching to be false.
'"A little girl, in a family of my acquaintance, a lovely
and precious child, lost her mother at an age too early
18*
209 
HIIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
to fix the loved features in her remembrance. She was
beautiful; and as the bud of her heart unfolded, it
seemed as if won by that mother's prayers to turn instinctively heavenward.  The sweet, conscientious, and
prayer-loving child, was the idol of the bereaved family.
But she faded away early. She would lie upon the lap
of the friend who took a mother's kind care of her,
and, winding one wasted arm about her neck, would
say,'Now tell me about my mamma!'  And when the
oft-told tale had been repeated, she would ask softly,
' Take me into the parlor; I want to see my mamma!'
The request was never refused; and the affectionate
sick child would lie for hours, gazing on her mother's
portrait. But
"Pale and wan she grew, and weakly
Bearing all her pains so meekly,
TIiat to them she still grew dearer,
As the trial-hour grew nearer.
" That hour came at last, and the weeping neighbours
assembled to see the little child die. The dew of death
was already on the flower, as its life-sun was going
down. The little chest heaved faintly - spasmodically.
"'Do you know me, darling?' sobbed close in her
ear, the voice that was dearest; but it awoke no answer. All at once a brightness, as if from the upper
world, burst over the child's colourless countenance.
lithe eyelids flashed open, and the lips parted; the wan,
curdling hands flew up, in the little one's last impulsive
effort, as she looked piercingly into the far above.
"'Alother!' she cried, with surprise and transport in
210 
AMONG TIIE POETS.
her tone - and passed with that breath to her mother's
bosom.
"Said a distinguished divine, who stood by that bedl
of joyoy.s death,' If I had nevelr believed in thle ministration of departed ones before, I could not doubt it
now.
"'Peace I leave with you,' said the wisest spirit that
ever passed from earth to heaven.  Let us be at' peace'
amid the spirit-mystcries and questionings on which
his eye soon shed the light of Eternity."
XIII.
GONE-BUT NOT LOST.
By Irs. Ellen Stone.
Sweet bud of earth's wilderness, rifled and torn!
Fond eyes have wept o'er thlee, fond hearts still wvill mourn;
The spoiler hath conime, with his cold withering breath,
And the loved and the cherished lies silent in death.
He felt not the burden and heat of the day!
He hath passed from this earth, and its sorrows, away,
With the dewn of the morning yet fresh on his brow:Sweet bud of earth's wilderness, where art thou now?
And oh! do you question, with tremulous breath,
Why the joy of your household lies silent in death?
Do you motirn round the place of your perishing dust?
Look onward and upward with holier trust!
VVho cometli to meet him, with light on her brovw?
What angel form greets him so tenderly nov w!
''is the pure sainted mother, springs onwvard to bear
The child of her love fromn this region of care!
211 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Sale bearettli him on to that realmn of repose,
Wlhere no cloud ever gathlers, no stormn ever blows:
For the Saviour calls home to the mansions above,
This frail tremnbling( floweret in inevcy and love.
There shall he for ever, unchanged by decay,
Beside the still waters and green pastures stray;
And there shall ye join him, with earth's ransomed host,
Look onward and upward! "11he's gone - but not lost!"
SECTION III.
CONSOLATORY POETRY.
The principal vein which the poets follow when they
dwell on this subject is in the way of consolation. These
sentiments will serve to show what is the burden of the
heart in its deepest sorrow when bereaved of friends.
It is the hope of blessed and eternal reunion in a better
life. To this it instinctively turns as its joyful song in
this house of pilgrimage.   In the sighings of the poet
we see what the heart wants.  This is the great stream,
ending in the ocean of eternal love, into which all incdividual tears fall, and are changed from tears of sorrow to tears of joy. Into this stream the poet merges
his mysterious soul, whenever he undertakes to speak
for us, or to guide and interpret our own feelings to
us.  Then he feels what we feel, loves vwhat we love,
and seeks what we seek.
It is remarkable and significant that with this doctrine the poets generally end their consolatory pieces.
They frequently begin with other sources of consolation, but finally slide into this. Thus the whole is
crowned with this much-desired union.  This shows
iwhither the heart's wishes tend.  Here the  aching
212 
AMONIG THE POETS.
heart rests, and only here.  Here is its home, with
what it loves - where else? Even when higher sources
of consolation are acknowledged, even when Christ is
lade the substance of heavenly felicity, still here the
heart centres when its sorrows flow from bereavement.
Not that friends are dearer to it than Christ, but because that which is the immediate cause of sorrow is
most prominent.   When one is lost to the heart it
leaves the ninety-and-nine others which are safe, and
goes after the lost one till it is found.   In joy, other
attractions in heaven are bri,lghter, but in sorrow and
fresh bereavement, this.  Nor is this wrong, for iHe
wvho wept with the sisters of Bethany for their brother
Lazarus, is merciful even to our infirmities.  Martha
did not say to Him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, I
would not have wept though my brother had died; but
she said, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother
had not died." Neither does IHe chide her, and say, I
am here, that is enough; but he rather encourages her
hope in the direction of her lost brother, upon whom
her heart was now set in the intensity of her grief, as
a source of comfort:-"  Thy brother shall rise again."
It is proper, then, that the poets terminate their consolations in this precious faith.
" In times of bereavement, the mind often becomes
utterly depressed and bewildered at its inability of expression, and it turns instinctively to the language of
another: to'the deep sad harmonies that haunt the
breast of the poet,' who has foreshadowed a portraiture
of our own hearts; and we are comforted by the assurance it gives, that our state is not peculiar.   In oul
weakness of grief wee are apt to feel as if alone; as if
213 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
set apart as a mark for the shafts of adversity; but
we now learn the fact, that we are only one of the
great brotherhood of sorrow." The discovery that we
have sympathy, and that others weep as well as ourselves, disperses our loneliness, and takes away much
of the complaint of our grief.
The poet is a comforter which all love; he comes to
us so softly, so silently, so feelingly.  In the tender
hour of fresh bereavement we instinctively withdraw
from others and love to be alone. We hide ourselves
from the every-day contact of those who, though they
would, cannot feel with us, and measure the full extent
and diepth of our grief. "' We shrink even from the incompetence of those who, from genuine kindliness of
heart, obtrude their sympathy upon us. The commonplace generalities to which such persons resort, revolt
us, as heartless and hackneyed; the human voice, even,
assumes a dissonance, when it urges us to forget a
grief over which the heart yearns with a devoted tenderness, feeling as if relief were a treason to the beloved object. Few can afford consolation in periods
like these - few should attempt it.")
At such times we choose our own comforters, and
these must have a sacred priestly character- speaking
a language removed from the common-place of ordinary
life. The poet suits us. Hle does not only speak gentle
and soothing words, but he makes himself the very soul
of our grief, speaking rather in us than to us. He
has felt the same which we now feel, sought the same
relief, and now tells us how and where he found it.
Xlis words do not flow coldly from his lips and so fall
'son our ears, but we feel them at our heart, wellir I
214 
AMONG THIE POETS.
up from the depths of the soul, warm, tender  and
living.  Thus he affords light to the heart in its darkness, and life in its death.
Truly has it been said, "the poet is the interpreter
of the human heart- the expounder of its mysteries.
An utterance is given to him which is denied to others,
even although their feelings may be akin to his own.
Through him Truth speaks: and wild or wayward as
may seem her revelations, yet it is the common sentiment, the universal emotion, she speaks; she gives the
germ of a nobler principle, the incentive to a higher
hope.  We weep over his words, relieved by a strange
sympathy; find through him a voice and utterance for
thoughts too deep for expression; and are at once relieved, comforted, and instructed."
I.
REUNION ABOVE.
Leqgett.
If yon bright stars, which gem the night,
Be each a blissful dwelling sphere,
Where kindred spirits reunite
Whom death hath torn asunder here,
How sweet it were at once to die,
To leave this blighted orb afar;
Mixt soul and soul to cleave the sky
And soar away from star to star.
But oh! how dark, how drear and lone,
Would seem the brightest world of blip,
If, wandering through each radiant one,
We failed to find the loved of this!
21b 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
If there no more the ties shall twine
Which death's cold hand alone could sever,
Ah, then those stars in mockery shine,
More hateful as they shine for ever!
It cannot be - each hope, each fear,
That lights the eye or clouds the brow,
Proclaims there is a happier sphere,
Than this bleak world that holds us now.
There is a voice which sorrow hears,
WVhen heaviest weighs life's galling chain,
'Tis heaven that whispers-" dry your tears,
The pure in heart shall meet again."
II.
"~SORR')W NOT, EVEN AS OThERS WVIIICHI HAVE NO
HOPE."
By Rev. C(Jarles Wesley.
If death my friend and me divide,
Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrows chide,
Nor frown my tears to see;
Restrained from passionate excess,
Thou bid(st me mourn in calm distress,
For thern that rest in thee.
I feel a strong, immortal hope,
Which bears my mnournrful spirit up
Beneath its mountain load;
Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again,
Within the arms of God.
Pass the few fleeting moments more,
And death the blessing shall restore,
Which death hath snatched away:
For me, thou  wilt the summons send,
And give me back my parted friend,
In that eternal d(lay!
216 
AMONG TIIE POETS.
III.
And what if the death-pang my bosom must rend,
If it mingles my spirit with that of my friend?
I care not how soon they may sever earth's ties,
For though parted on earth wve'll be linked in the skies
IV.
FROMl SACRED LYRICS, BY R. HuI~.
Sleep on, my babe! thy little bed
Is cold, indeed, and narrow;
Yet calmly there shall rest thy head,
And neither mortal pain nor dread
Shall e'er thy feelings harrow!
Thou may'st no more return to me,
But there's a time, my dearest,
When I shall lay me down by thee,
And when of all, my babe shall be
That sleep around, the nearest!
Anrid sound our sleep shall be, my child,
Were earth's foundation shaken;
Till He, the pure, the undefiled,
Who once, like thee, an infant smiled,
The dead to life awaken!
Then, if to Hlim, with faith sincere,
Sly babe at death was given,
The kindred tie that bound us here,
Though rent apart with many a tear,
Shall be renewed in heaven!
19
217 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
V.
There is no doubt danger that some may comfort
themselves with the hope of meeting their friends in
heaven, who have themselves no sure title to that
blessed place! so deceitful is the heart; and so hastily
does it seize at pleasant conclusions, without making
all right by the way. What a sore and bitter disappointment will that be, when, instead of meeting their
friends in heaven, they find themselves excluded from
it for ever! Let the truth be deeply impressed upon
our hearts, that if we would see our friends in heaven,
our first duty is to become CHRISTIANS. NO others
shall ever enter through the gates into that blissful
city.  Let the first two lines be pondered by all wlM1
love their friends but love not Christ!
Yes-if I have not sacrificed all other claims to thine,
Surrendered with a selfish love, because that thou wert mine,
I still may hope to feel that bliss within my soul revive,
Whiich never in this yearning heart will languish while I live;
May hear thy unforgotten voice join the archangel's song,
And know my owvn beloved one, amidst a holy throng,
May see thee, by the light that breaks the shadows of the tomb,
A portion of my happiness in the bright world to come!
VI.
MY BoY!
I know his face is hid
Under the coffin lid;
Closed are his eyes; cold is his forehead fair;
My hand that marble felt,
O'er it in prayer I knelt;
Yet my heart whispers that- he is not tlere!
218 
AMONG THE POETS.
Not there?-Where, then, is he?
The form I used to see
Was but the raiment that he used to wear.
The grave that now doth press
Upon that cast-off dress,
Is but his wardrobe locked; -he is not there!
He lives!- In all the past
He lives; nor, to the last,
Of seeing him again will I despair;
In dreams I see him now,
And on his angel brow,
I see it written, "Thou shalt see me there!"
Yes, we all live to God!
FATHER, thy chastening rod
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear,
That in the spirit land,
Meeting at thy right hand,
'Twill be our heaven to find that -he is there
VII.
NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE.
Say, why should friendship grieve for those
Who safe arrive on Canaan's shore?
Released from all their hurtfuil foes,
They are not lost -but gone before.
How many painfil days on earth
Their fainting spirits numbered o'er!
Now they enjoy a heavenly birth;
They are not lost- but gone before.
Dear is the spot where Christians sleep,
And sweet the strain which angels pour;
O  why should we in anguish weep?
They are not lost -but gone before.
219 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
Secure from every mortal care,
By sin and sorrow vexed no more,
Eternal happiness they share,
Who are not lost- but gone before.
To Zion's peaceful courts above,
In faith triumphant may we soar,
Embracing in the arms of love,
The friends not lost- but gone before.
On Jordan's banks whene'er we come,
And hear the swelling waters roar,
Father, convey us safely home,
To friends not lost -but gone before.
VII1.
Ye who mourn
Whene'er yon vacant cradle, or the robes
That decked the lost one's form, call back a tide
Of alienated joy, can ye not trust
Your treasure to IIis arms, whose changeless care
Passeth a mother's love? Can ye not hope,
When a few hastening years their course have run,
To go to him, though he no more on earth
Returns to you?
And when glad faith doth catch
Some echo of celestial harmonies,
Archangel's praises, with the high response
Of cherubim, and seraphim, oh thinkThink that your babe is there!
IX.
DREAMS OF HEAVEN.
Mrs. Hemnans.
0, woman! with the soft sad eye
Of spiritual gleam!
Tell me of those bright realms on high,
How doth thy deep heart dream?
220 
AMONG  TIIE POETS.
By thy sweet mournful voice I know,
On thy pale brow I see, 
That thou hast loved in silent woe,
Say, what is heaven to thee?
"Oh! heaven is where no secret dread
May haunt lozve's meeting hour;
Where from the past no gloom is shed
O'er the heart's chosen bower;
"Where every severed wreath is bound;
And none have heard the knell,
That smites the soul in that wild sound  Farewell!  Beloved, farewell!"
X.
O     n witnessing the burial of an emigrant's child, in
real        sympathy with the bereaved, Mrs. HIemans thus
beautifully sings
And to her who bore him,
Her who long must weep,
Yet shall heaven restore him,
From his pale sweet sleep!
Those blue eyes of love and peace again
Through her soul will shine, undimmed by pain.
XI.
Weep not for her!  There is no cause for wo;
But rather nerve thy spirit, that it walk
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below,
And from earth's low defilements keep thee back:
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown,
She'll meet thee at heaven's gate-and lead thee on!
Weep not for her!
19*
221 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
XII.
This beautiful poem is doubly sweet and comforting,
as it has been set to excellent music; thus it has found
a deeper lodgment in the hearts and associations of
many than it could otherwise have done. I have frequently noticed the deep effect it produced when sung
at the breaking up of small social circles, among the
young. How many upon whose lips it lingered in
parting have not met again! Youthful associates,
alas! how they scatter! The circles of our early love,how the gems have dropped away! In different places,
and amid various fortunes, bright and sad, the companions of our early life are crowding towards the grave.
So pass we away!  May we not hope that the reading
of this poem here, may beget in the heart of the reader
a stronger resolution to strive after the eternal/inheritance of the saints - and at the same time draw forth
a prayer for those far away? And will it not open
afresh a fountain of true consolation to such as are
separated from pious friends?
REUNION IN HEAVEN.
VWhen shall we meet again?
Meet ne'er to sever?
When will peace wreathe her chain
Round us for ever? 
Our hearts will ne'er repose
Safe from each blast that blows
In this dark vale of woes  Never- no, Never!
WVhen shall love freely flow,
Pure as life's river?
WVhen shall sweet friendship glow,
Changeless for ever?
222 
AMONG  TIIE POETS.
Where joys celestial thrill,
Where bliss each heart shall fill,
And  fears of parting chill  Never-no, Never!
Up to that world of light,
Take us, dear Saviour;
May we all there unite,
Happy, for ever:
Where kindred spirits dwell,
There may our music swell,
And time our joys dispel  Never-no, Never!
Soon shall we meet again  Meet ne'er to sever;
Soon will peace wreathe her chain
Round us for ever:
Our hearts will then repose
Secure from worldly woes:
Our songs of praise shall close  Never - no, Never!
XIII.
O! it is sweet to die,-to part from earth,And win all heaven for things of idle worth;
Then sure thou wouldst not, though thou couldst awake
The little slumberer, for its mother's sake.
It is when those we love, in death depart,
That earth has slightest hold upon the heart.
Hathl not bereavement higiher wishes taught,
And purified from earth, thine earth-born thoulght-?
I know it hath. Hope then appears more dear,
And heaven's bright realms shine brightest through a tear.
Though it be hard to bid thy heart divide,
And lay the gem of all thy love asideFaith tells thee, and it tells thee not in vain,
That thou shalt meet thine infant yet again.
2:'2 3 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
On seraph wings the new-born spirit flies,
To brighter regions and serener skies;
And ere thou art aware the day may be,
When to those skies thy babe shall welcome the
XIV.
My stricken heart to Jesus yields
Love's deep devotion now,
Adores and blesses- while it bleeds -
His hand that strikes the blow.
Then fare thee well- a little while  Life's troubled dream is past;
And I shall meet with thee, my child,
In life- in bliss, at last!
These beautiful extracts from the poets show that
the spirit of poetry is in love with this doctrine, speaking of it with the most implicit faith, and giving to it
all its own sweet tenderness. Now, by way of concluding this chapter, we cannot refrain from introducing another beautiful poem, with the affecting incident which drew it forth, to show how spontaneously
the heart sings of this faith from its deep fullness in
sudden emergencies of grief. The soothing strains of
similar song, under similar circumstances, have been
breathed from a thiousand hearts, to which printed
verse has never given a local habitation, so that it
might reach the eyes and hearts of others. The inner
world has also its poetry and its music; and the heart
often has words, and a song, which the tongue is too
slow to utter. fhence there is a great deal of unwritten
poetry, and a great deal of music, that remains un
2'.14 
AMONG  THE  POETS.
sung. IHaply in the instance to which we refer, anr
utterance was given equal to the burden of the heart,
and -oh what touching numbers!
To show these lines in their true light and tenderness, as well as in their strong and beautiful bearing
on the subject before us, it is necessary to give the
circumstances which called them forth.
The author of them is MIrs. Sarah B. Judson, second
wife of the excellent and eminent Dr. Judson, a missionary to Burmah. In 1845, in the forty-fifth year
of her age, and in the twenty-first year of her missionary life, this excellent lady's health failed. It was
seen that if she remained in the field she must soon
sink into the grave.  "At last a voyage to America
was named, as presenting the only prospect of life."
It was finally concluded upon that she, with her husband and children, should enter upon this voyage.  The
thought of it was both pleasant and mournful.  "To
America! the land of her birth, and the home of many
a loved one; where parents, brothers and sisters, still
trod the soil, and where her darling, her orphan boy,*
might once again be folded to her bosom! Oh, should
she visit dear, Christian America, once more? Yet
she could not leave those for whom she had toiled and
prayed, during twenty years of her exile, without sadness. Had it been right, she would have preferred to
die quietly in Burmah, rather than interrupt her husband's labours; and her heart sunk at parting, for
years, if not for life, with the most helpless of her
babes - the eldest of the three- only four years of
* The son of her former husband, the Rev. George D. Board
man.
225 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
age. But duty demanded the sacrifice; and she had
been too long obedient to this voice to think of opposition now. They bore her to the ship, while both fair
and dusky faces circled round; and long did the sound
of those loved, farewell voices, half smothered in grief
and choked with tears, dwell upon her ear and heart.
Near the Isle of France, hope of final recovery grew
so strong, that it became almost certainty; and now a
voice from poor, perishing Burmah, seemed calling on
the invalid for one more sacrifice.  She dared not go
back herself, but there seemed no longer a necessity
for calling her husband from his missionary labor. He
should now return to his lonely home in Burmah, and
she, with her children, would pursue a way as lonely
toward the "setting sun."  It was after this resolution
that the following lines, the last words ever traced by
her fingers, were pencilled on a scrap of broken paper.
Let the reader observe how naturally and how touchingly, under the feeling of uncertainty whether they
should ever meet again on earth, her heart dwells on
the prospect of a heavenly meeting.
We part on this green islet, Love,
Thou for the Eastern main,
1, for the setting sun, Love -
Oh, when to meet again.
My heart is sad for thee, Love,
For lone thy way will be;
And oft thy tears will fall, Love,
For thy children and for me.
The music of thy daughter's voice
Thou'lt miss for many a year;
And the merry shout of thine elder boys,
Thou'It listen in vain to hear.
2'26 
AMONG THE POETS.
When we knelt to see our Henry die,
And heard his last faint moan,
Each wiped away the other's tears Now, each must weep alone.
My tears fall fast for thee, Love,  How can I say farewell?
But go; -thy God be with thee, Love,
Thy heart's deep grief to quell!
Yet my spirit clings to thine, Love,
Thy soul remains with me,
And oft we'll hold communion sweet,
O'er the dark and distant sea.
And who can paint our mutual joy,
When, all our wanderings o'er,
We both shall clasp our infants three,
At home on Burmah's shore!
But higher shall our raptures glow,
On yon celestial plain,
When the loved and parted here below
Meet, ne'er to part again.
Then gird thine armor on, Love,
Nor faint thou by the way,
Till Boodh shall fall, and Burmah's sons
Shall own Messiah's sway.
In all the missionary annals there are few things more
affecting than this. A parting took place, but not the
one anticipated in these verses. She became suddenly
worse, and died on board the ship in the port of the
Isle of St. Helena.  They parted on that "green islet,"
but instead of sailing toward the "setting sun," she
soared toward
Yon celestial plain,
Where the loved and parted here below
Meet, ne'er to part again!
227 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
The precious remains of so good a life lie buried in
that distant isle of the sea -her spirit is in the land
of eternal love.  Who can believe that the meeting
season, of which she prophesied so ardently in this
dying hymn, will not be realized?  Will she see those
no more for whom she "toiled and prayed" in Burmall,
for whom she so much desired the restoration of her
health, and for whose sake she was so wiling to see
her husband return to them, leaving her and her children in the midst of the ocean? Will she see no more
those " elder boys," and that " orphan boy," and that
"daughter," and "Henry," already in heaven?  Is
she now for ever separated from her husband, to whom
she sung almost with her dying breath:
Yet my spirit clings to thine, Love,
Thy soul remains with me.
WVho can believe it?  See! as soon as she is buried in
that "beautiful, shady spot," duty calls him to return
in haste to his Master's work.   He leaves the place
sadly, but not without the consolation of that hope of
a meeting in heaven which was the swan song of his
dying but now sainted wife. "I was obliged," says
Dr. Judson, "to hasten on board the ship, and we inmmediately went to sea. On the following morning no
vestige of the island was discernible in the distant
horizon. For a few days, in the solitude of my cabin,
with my poor children crying around me, I could not
help abandoning myself to heart-breaking sorrow. But
the promises of the Gospel came to my aid, and faith
stretched her view to the bright world of eternal life,
and anticipated a happy meeting with those beloved
228 
AMONG THE POETS.
beings whose bodies are mouldering at Amherst and
St. Ijelena."
TIIE MOTHER AND HER DYING BOY.
BOY.
MATy inother, my mother, 0 let me depart!
Your tears and your pleadings are swords to my heart;
I hear gentle voices, that chide my delay;
I see lovely visions that woo me away.
My prison is broken, my trials are o'er!
O  mothler, my  mother, detain me no more!
MOTHER.
And will you then leave us, my brightest, my best.
And will you run nestling no more to my breast?
Tile summer is coming to sky and to bowver;
The tree that you planted will soon be in flower,
You loved the soft season of song and of bloom;
0, shall it return, and find you in the tombI
BOY.
Yes, mother, I loved in the sunshine to play,
And talk with the birds and the blossoms all day;
But sweeter the songs of the spirits on high,
And brighter the glories round God in the sky:
I see them, I hear them, they pull at my heart,
My mother, my  mother, O  let me depart.
MOTHER.
O do not desert us! Our hearts will be drear,
Our home will be lonely, when you are not here;
Your brother will sigh'nJid his playthings, and say,
I wonder dear William so longr can delay:
That foot like the wild wind, that glance like a star
O what will this world be, when they are afar?
20
229 
IHEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
BOY.
This world, dearest mother, 0 live not tbfor this;
No, press oil wnith me to the fulness of bliss!
And trust me, whatever bright fields I may roam,
My heart will not wander from you and from home.
Believe me still near you on pinions of love;
Expect me to hail you when soaring above.
MIOTItER.
WVell, go, my beloved! The conflict is o'er;
My pleas are all selfish, I urge them no more;
WVhy chain your bright spirit down here to the clod,
So thirsting for freedom, so ripe for its God?
Farewell then, farewell, till we meet at the Thlrone,
WVhere love fears no parting, and tears are unknown i
BOY.
0 glory!  0 glory! what music! what light!
WVhat wonders break in on my heart, on my sight.
I come, olessed spirits! I hear you from high;
0 frail, faithless nature, can this be to die?
So near! what, so near to my Saviour and King?
0 help me, ye angels, I-is glories to sing!
230 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
CHAPTER XI.
'iftinU5 t3    t VurtrIITt uf  iuu               nttl          ititn.
I have heard you say,
That we sli.ll see and know our friends in heaven.
If that be true, I shall see my boy again!
For since the birth of Cain, the first mrnale child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud,
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost;
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;
And so he'11 die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven,
I shall not know him: therefore, never, never,
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more!
SHAKSPEARE.
THlERE  are persons who,  though  they have  any
amount of positive proof in favour of a subject, nevertheless doubt as long as certain difficulties existing in
their minds are not removed. They have proof enough
to enable them to believe, were it not for some objections which they are unable to meet with a satisfactory
answer.  There is a class of persons also, who  are,
o31 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
partly constitutionally, and partly from pride, doubters.
They take pleasure in being singular, and seem to considler it a mark of superior intelligence to doubt what
others believe. They seem to feel no other mission in
regard to truth than to cast up objections to it, and
throw difficulties in its way. Such persons never fairly
and seriously weigh positive evidence in favour of a
given subject, but only seek out objections against it;
and if they are able to hunt up a certain quantity of
objections and difficulties, they feel safe in rejecting it.
They can always tell what they do 2ot believe, and why
they do not believe it; but they canhot so well say
what they do believe, and w7ty they believe it. It does
not occur to them, that there may be more objections
to their objections, than they are able to array against
the doctrine to which they object.  Such persons are
not really in search of truth, have no real hunger for
it, and will consequently not find it. They are like one
who, professing himself in search of ripe and wholesome fruit, should be seen walking round an apple-tree,
eager to see how many dry limbs, how many rotten
apples, and how much tainted fruit unfit to eat, could
be found on it; and if he found a formidable quantity
of these, should turn away in disgust, sure that there
was no good fruit on the tree.
Many objections may be found always, even against
a true doctrine. Nothing is easier than to show that
there are difficulties which lie in the way of truth. Let
it. however, be remembered, that if any doctrine can
be proved to be true by positive evidence, a thousand
objections that may be raised against it cannot prove
it untrue.  It remains true, even if we should not be
232 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
able to answer the objections; our fuiling, to answer
them proves nothing but our own limited knowledge.
We must learn, first of all, in our search after truth,
that our own ignorance is not its measure.   In regard
to the doctrine before us, however, we discover  no
objections which may not be Ifully answeredl; and we
addrless ourselves therefore to this task.  This will be
expected of us by our readers. and we accordingly invite them to follow us patiently.
FIRST OBJECTION.
The great change which will take place in deatth.
"We shall all be changed."  Tile change which, accor(ling, to the scriptures, is to take place, especially in
our bodies at the transition of death, will, in many
respects, be great.  It is very natural that this consideration should generate fears that this change will be
such as to hinder recognition, and perhaps render it
wholly impossible.   This is perhaps the first and most
natural difficulty that arises in our minds when wve ask
the question,-shall we know our friends again in liheaven? This difficulty should be removed.
A  little careful inquiry into this matter will show,
that the greatest part of this difficulty is only apparent.
A great change may take place, both in the body and
spirit, without destroying those marks of identity and
those peculiarities of character by which recognition
takes place.  The change which comes with death will
consist, not in addling any thing entirely or essentially
new, but only in an unfolding and' perfecting of what
is tlret(ly at hand in us.  There is a great difference
233 
HEAVENLY RECCG-.NITION.
between a small sapling and a full-grown tree: atid
yet great as the apparent change is, the marks of its
identity continue through all the stages of its evolution.
In the different stages of human life, through infancy,
childhood, youth, manhood, and age, the same being
continues, carrying with him his peculiarities, and preserves from one stage to the other those marks by
which he is recognized as the same person.  There are
features which run with marked prominence through
all these transitions.  Should, however, these marks in
themselves prove insufficient to effect a recognition,
they may still serve as hints which, by the assistance
of mutual recollections, associations, inquiries and replies, shall lead to a complete revival of former acquaintance.
That the change which awaits us is one, not of transformationi, but of evolution, is evident from scripture
representations of it. The apostle Paul represents the
new celestial man as rising out of the old earthly man,
as the new grain rises out of the old.  The change is
not so much in the outward form as in the inward
potence which fills out and pervades the form with a
rnewv life. The original form will remain while the element of corruption will be changed into that of incorruption. The dishonour, which in various ways, and
in various degrees, attaches to our present life, will
give way to glory. Weakness will be swallowed up ill
power. The natural will pass into the spiritual, the
mortal into immortality.  Now, all these changes are
but risings from a lower to a higher life, which, theugh
they involve great. changes, are not in form but in
power.  They may all take place without radically
2.4 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
changing those familiar peculiarities which make recog
nitionl possible. As in life a person is changed from a
sinner to a saint, while he still retains, to a great extent, the same external features; so, the elements of
power, glory and immortality, may be unfolded in us,
in our glorification, without producing any more change
in the appearance of that side of our being with which
we were wont to converse with our friends, than the
positive condition of electricity does upon that which
it fills with its mysterious fluid.
"Gently- so have good men +taught —
Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide
Into the new."
That gracious life into which we are renovated in
regeneration, and which is to become complete in heaven, like its divine Author, does not destroy but fulfil.
It makes that which exists perfect, and makes that
perfection permanent  by making it immortal.  The
transfiguration of Christ upon the mount was no doubt
intended, in part, to give the apostles a glimpse of
what they might expect when "he should change their
vile bodies, that they might be fashioned like unto his
glorious body."- There the change which took place
in their Master was great: "the fashion of his countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and
glistening," "and his face did shine as the sun;" yet
still they knewl Him from the rest amid that "excellent
glory," and they " were eye-witnesses of his majesty."
HIis glorious person was still, as to its external marks,
what it was before, and could be recognized as his
through the veil of holy light which enshrouded it.
235 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
l'Iay not the same be the case with us in our glorified
bodies?
We have still another illustration of the continuation
through death and appearance in the resurrection of
those lmarks by which recognition takes place, in the
interview of Christ with His disciples after his resurrection from the dead.  When the disciples were together at Jerusalem, after Ie had risen, He appeared to
themn in i-tis resurrection body.   Luke xxiv. 36-44.
From this passage we learn that Christ did not only
showi his disciples that his body was composed of "flesh
and bones," showing them His hands and His feet, but,
to convince them more fully, while their joy was too
great to suffer them to believe such good tidings, He
told them to "handle" him, and He eat in their presence " a piece of broiled fish, and of an honey-comb."
I-Iere then they had marks, even in His resurrection
body, by which they might have known HIim at once,
which no doubt they would have done, had not their
great surprise amazed and confounded them. By a
natural process, however, a speedy and joyful recognition is effected.  Just let this whole scene be transferred
to heaven; and why may not the like take place there
as well as here?
True friendship and affection, moreover, are founded
not so much upon outward appearances, as upon inward
mutual spiritual qualities.  These, it is true, manifest
themselves and attract our love, through acts and organs of the body, though much obscured, the body in
its imperfections interposing media which blunt the
exhibition of these qualities, and destroying much of
their impressiveness.   Who knows but it may be one
2 I.") 6 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
of the advantages and excellencies of the glorified
body, that it will place a more transparent mediumn
between us and those qualities of soul in our friends
which have fixed our affections on them, so as actually
to facilitate our recognition of those agreeable traits
of character in them which induced us to love them at
first? It is agreeable, both to reason and intimations
of scripture, to believe that our intercourse in heaven
will be more immediate and intuitive, and less through
media, than on earth. If this be so, there are no doubt
in us capacities for intercourse far more refined and
intimate, which are not yet unfolded, but of which we
will become conscious when once our spiritual powers
and affections act in their refined and glorified bodies.
"Beloved, it doth not yet appear what we shall be!"
The apostles seem to have felt themselves labouring
under the constant consciousness of a disadvantage on
account of the medium which their "vile body" interposed between them and Christ, which kept them at
an aching distance from Him. John, who not only
saw Jesus, but lay upon His bosom, and who seemed,
as the "beloved disciple," to enjoy more intimate fellow-ship with Him than any of the rest, did not yet
"see Him as He is;" but comforts the saints with the
hope that this shall take place "when  He shall appear," and "when we shall be like Him." This same
obscurity and imperfection, according to Paul, also
characterizes the intercourse of saints with saints in
this world; for he is speaking of charity-love between
man and man -when he says, "For we know in part.
and we prophesy in part. But when that which is
perfect is come, then that which is in part shall bs
237 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
done away.   For now we see tlhroughl  a glass, darkly;
but then face to face."  What else can this "face to
face" mean, but a direct intuitive communion one with
another when in our perfect bodies? In a literal sense
they had seen each other face to face on earth, but
this was only a partial sight, obscured by imperfections
of the body; when "that which is in part shall be
done away," and when these "vile bodies" shall no
more, like a glass, darkly obscure  our view, " then
shall we know even as also we are known."
Thus the change which awaits us, so far from hindering us in recognizing our fi'iends in heaven, will be
th4e means of vastly facilitating it.  The perfection
which the scriptures encourage us to hope for in the
heavenly world, will be of service to us in the renewal
of affectionate communion with those vwe loved that
have gone before, as well as in other respects.
And( shall I e'er again thy features trace,
Beloved friend; thy lineamnents review?
Yes: though the sunken eyes, and livid lihue
And lips comprest, have quenched each lively grace,
Death's triumph; still I recognize the face
Vhiichl thine for many a year affection knew;
And what forbids, that, clothed with life anew,
It still on memory's tablet holds its place?Thllo' then thy cheek witl-h deathless bloom be sheen,
And rays of splendor wreath thy sunlike brow,
That change I deem shall sever not between
Thlee and thy former self; nor disallow
That love's tried eyes discern thee through the skreen
Of glory then, as of corruption now.
Bisiiop MANT.
233 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
SECON D OBJECTION.
If  it we2e trite, it woutld  be 7zore c?ect)?  retc,ealed.
It is said by way of objection: If this were a doc,
trine, true and to be believed, it would have been more
directly, clearly, and fully revealed.  If true, this doetrine is full of consolation  and it is therefore natural
and reasonable, it is said, to think that tie, who would
not deprive His people of any source of comfort, wvould
have spoken clearly on such an important point.
Let us look at this objection.  The fact that this
doctrine is not often, and then only incicldentally mentioned, is rather a proof in its favour than against it.
It shows that the truth of it was taken for granted at
the time when it was thus incidentally alluded to - it
was not necessary to propound it formally as a doctrine, but merely to allude to it as something, already
universally believed.  All scripture allusions to it are
made upon the supposition that it is an acknowledgred
truth.  In this view of the matter an incidental allusion is even stronger than a direct assertion; for while
it has all the authority of a direct testimony, it shows
at the same time the absence of all disposition or intention to deceive.  Thus, if I say, I travelled under
the rays of the hot sun, this is the strongest possible
proof that it was a clear day, and in the summer.
Moreover, there are many of the most important
doctrines of the scripture resting on precisely the same
ground as this, in this respect. Such, for instance, are
the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, the necessity of
making a profession of religion by a connection with
the chureh, the immortality of the soul, infant hap
2';,,,' 1 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
tism, female communion, family worship, and other less
prominent doctrines or duties, concerning which we
have no doubt.  Such doctrines existed in the church
from the beginning, were carried( down its stream in
the flow of their own life; they needed no positive
sta.tement, for they were established by the same evidence by which the mission of the church was established, and the mission of those who alluded to these'
doctrines as true. Just so in reference to this doctrine;
its existence in the favour of those inspired persons
who allude to it as true, is the strongest evidence of its
truth.  All doctrines of revelation must, in the nature
of the case, come short of logical demonstration. They
demand faith in them as the way to knowledge of them.
They are to be regarded as facts existing, rather than
as doctrines needing proof.  It is doubtful whether we
can demonstrate our own existence; at least we would
make ourselves ridiculous by the attempt.   Yet we
know the fact of our existence by the actual life of
which we are conscious.  So, in revelation; we do not
ask, can it be demonstrated, but is it a fact?-is it
credible? In like manner, with regard to the doctrine
before us; we do not ask, is it positively asserted? can
it be demonstrated? but has it existed as a fact? is it
so alluded to by the lips of inspiration? has it lived
as a reigning idea in the thoughts and hearts of men?
is it good and desirable, and can it be believed? If
all this be true, what weight can this objection have?
WVe answer, just as much as if we should deny that we
live, because it is not positively stated, but only alluded
to as an existing fact, granted by all.
240 
OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
THIRD OBJECTION.
The heavenly life will be muehI hiyher than this.
It has been thought that heavenly recognition cannot take place, because the heavenly life will be so
much higher than this, and so far different from it,
that all earthly relations, connections and dependencies, must be swallowed up, superseded, or set aside.
To this we reply, that it is scriptural to say, that
the future life will not be a destruction of this, but a
continuation of it. We will be higher beings, and different beings there, but not other beings. All our
affections will be vastly elevated, sanctified, increased
and perfected, without any violent severing of them
from their past life on the earth. Here on earth, when
one becomes a Christian, he rises into higher relations
and affinities than those in which he stood before; but
this does not annihilate his previous being; it only
perfects it.  He does not, for instance, become unfit
for family relations and social life in general by this
advancement, but rather the contrary. His new relation to Christ does not supersede and destroy his old
relations to his friends and fellow men.   His life flows
on as before, only in a holier stream.   His affections
still radiate, but with a serener and heavenlier light.
So in heaven; though introduced into higher and holier grades of social life, the soul will still draw after
it what it loved in its state of grace on earth, and
continue to turn towards it with the sweetest remembrance.
We are also taught to expect in our Father's house
of "many mansions" a variety of joys.  Granting even
21
241 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
that the soul is at times caught up into raptures of
bliss, so as entirely to forget whether it is in the body
or out of it -so as to forget all the affinities that lie
upon a lower level; still, there may also be times when
intercourse not unlike that of saints on earth may bo
desirable, profitable, and of holy relish.  The joys of
the past are passing sweet! A mutual social review
with friends of the joys and even sorrows of earth,
may fill an hour of heavenly pastime not unworthy of
the place, Especially so, as it will have a direct tendency to inspire deeper gratitude, and incite to louder
and loftier praise of God's redeeming love.   Will not
there the weary rest more sweetly as they remember
their former weariness? - will not prisoners and servants feel more joyous in their heavenly freedom, as
memory still faintly repeats the echo of the oppressor's
voice, from the far-off regions of earth and time?  On
the same principle, we may believe, will the saints in a
higher life reap increase of joy from a review and remembrance of the social life of earth, and will find
themselves advanced instead of retarded in happiness
by a reinewal of those ties commenced on earth and
now continued in heaven.
FOURTH OBJECTION.
It wtill introduce partiality into Heaven.
Will it not introduce partiality in heaven? This
question indicates an objection which is at first sight
somewhat plausible. It can, however, be easily and
satisfactory answered. Should we even find it necessary to believe that, in heaven, friends would love
friends more than other saints, this could be without
242 
OBJECTIONS ANSWVERED.
any evil effects. For there no feelings of jealousy will
exist to take cognizance of it. No one will stop, in
the general joy and harmony which will characterize
the heavenly intercourse, to measure, with suspicious
eye, the affections of other saints, much less desire to
attract any to himself to the dispairagement of others.
Suppose it even to be known there, that kindred and
kindred are peculiarly attached, it could not be regarded an evil in heaven. Do Christians here on earth feel
jealous of other Christians because they know them to
be peculiarly attached to their own kindred? Certainly
not.  They rather praise them for it, and themselves
rejoice in it; and will not heaven be entirely free from
all those unworthy feelings which would create difficulty
there in the intercourse of saints made perfect in holy
love?
Peculiar individual attachments are not uncongenial
in a perfect state of society.   On the contrary, it is
one of the most prominent and delightful features of
grace in this life, that it begets and increases general
love to all, and particular love to some. The strongest
particular attachments that earth has ever beheld, were
formed and continued under the power of the Christian
life.  Will glory divide what grace has united?  Will
those ties which grace begets and nourishes be unfit to
be renewed in the eternal existence of the saints? The
holy preferences, then, which this doctrine might seem
to introduce into heaven, are rather to be praised than
to be blamed. As the moon, in moving round the earth,
does not the less move, with all the other planets, round
the bun, so the saints in heaven, who cluster, by sweet
silent attraction, around the objects of their peculiar
243 
JIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
attachments, will not thereby fail to move on, with all
saints, round the Saviour, as the Sun of righteousness,
in the general harmony of heaven.
In this life we may act from various motives, all of
which may be right ones, though some may be subordinate to others; so in heaven, we may exercise various
affections, and if we should even grant that some are
less high and excellent than others, they would not
thereby be rendered improper. A small light is not
darkness, because it is not so large and bright as a
larger one. We might as well say that children, in
loving one another, must necessarily disparage their
parents- or because stars shine they dishonour the
moon. In this world saints have their chief enjoyments
in direct communion with God, but this does not exclude
and make unlawful those thousand little every-day joys
which fall to their lot, and make up their incidental
and subordinate comforts.
FIFTH OBJECTION.
The love of Cthrist will occupy us entirely.
It is said that in heaven Jesus and his love will employ our affections so entirely and eternally, that we
shall have no time nor desire to know and to be concerned about our friends; and that even a wish to
know our friends, and to renew our particular affection
for them, would be a disparagement to Christ. Some
have expressed themselves with great extravagance on
this point. This objection has the recommendation of
having a zeal for Christ, but it will hardly be found to
be according to knowledge.  Such expressions must Dbe
244 
OB13JECTIONS ANSW'PERED.
placed in the same class with those which speak, witlt
affected zeal, of the pure spirituality of heaven -as not
a place, but merely a state; affirming that where Christ
is, there is heaven, even if it were on earth or in hell.
It is true that with Christ, and with the love of God
shed abroad in our hearts, we have heavenly joys, but
we are nevertheless not in heaven, unless we are in
that place whichl is heaven.  Where Christ is now, there
is heaven; and it is novlwhere else, be our feelings what
they may.   In like manner, we may say, that to be
with Christ, to behold His glory, and to enjoy IHis love,
is the chief attraction of the heavenly world; but the
scriptures nowhere countenance the idea that we shall
lo nothing there but stand like statues and gaze at
Him.   Such fancies betray a strange superficial extravagance.  While the Lamb is the bright and glorious
centre, in whom all the rays of heavenly love meet, Ile
is, at the same time, the Sun which warms, animates
and enlivens all the social circles of the saints which
surround Him.  While the saints love IHim in the light
and life of that love which Hle sheds around Him, they
also see each other better, and love each other more, in
the same blessed light; just as the brightness which
tnakes the natural sun itself so prominent to our view,
is the means, at the same time, of enabling us to see
and know the objects around us.  His presence there,
no more destroys the social life and love of heaven,
than the sun makes the earth dark.
It might, with the samne propriety, be argued that
particular attachments among saints on earth were a
disparagement to Christ, and hindered our love to Him.
Thiis, however,. is not the case, but it is the direct con-.
21 *
-) 4, 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
trary; for, as we have already seen in another place,
Christ, by his example, encouraged particular friend..
ships - the family of Bethany and "the beloved disciple" shared his peculiar affections. In like manner
children that love each other are not thereby hindered,
but assisted, in loving their parents. It cannot, therefore, be, that such particular attachments can, in any
way, interfere with full, free and entire love to Christ.
They do not so interfere in this life, and it cannot be
shown that they will in the life to come. Love to Him,
and love to the brethren, cannot be disjoined; for the
same life of love which joins us to Hlim, joins us to
each other.  Where the one exists the other must also
be found; and the more we love our friends, whom we
have seen, the more will we love Christ, whom we have
not seen.
SIXTII OBJECTION.
ChIrist's answer to the Sadducees.
An objection has been built upon the answer which
Christ gave to the Sadducees, when they asked Him
whose wife she, who had been the wife of seven, should
be in the resurrection. The answer of the Saviour was:
"Ye do err, not knowing the scripture, nor the power
of God. For in the resurrection they neither marry
nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God
in heaven."   MIatt. xxii. 29, 30.  All that is here asserted is, that in heaven they do not marry -it is by
no means either said or intimated that they do not
know each other. The Saviour could have met the
difficulty which they sought, in this instance, to throw
in the way of the doctrine of the resurrection,  b3
246 
OBJECTIONS AN'SWVERED.
simply Jenying the doctrine of heavenly recognition
and we may suppose that he would have done so were
it not true.  He could have said to them: your objec-.
tion amounts to nothing; for there is no klnowledge of
acquaintances, and no extension of earthly ties beyond
the grave - even husbands and wives will have no
knowledge of each other there; and hence your question, whose wife shall she be of the seven? has no force
by way of objection.  He does not, however, resort to
this mode of silencing them.  Hle does not say that
they shall not know each other, but only that they
shall not marry nor be given in marriage. The reason
he gives for this is plain and proper- "they are as
the angels of God in heaven" -or, as Luke says,
"neither can they die any more: for they are equal
to the angels." They are equal to the angels, not in
every respect- not, certainly, in being strangers tc
each other eternally; but they are equally immortal
as the angels: "they die no more." Because they die
no more, they can need no more reparations for losses
through death by means of the marriage institution:
hence this institution will not continue in heaven.
This does not, in the least, intimate that the affections
begotten, and the friendships formed in this relation,
shall not be renewed and continue in the heavenly social life.*
* It has been made a question, indeed, whether the difference of
sex extends to the other world; and it is characteristic of the liegelian way of thinking in particular, that it allows but little room for
any such supposition, having the tendency alvways to merge the in.
dividual in the general, and to make men mere patssing exemnplific.;.
tiorns of humanity.  But this view overthrows in the end the doctrine
of a future state altogether; since without the distinction of indivi
241 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
This passage may be paraphrased thus: "Ye Sad.
ducees who deny that there is a resurrection, and suppose
that this instance gives you ground for such denial. do
dual nature, as something continued over from the present life,
there can be no sense of personal identity, no true resurrection, ol
other-world consciousness, in any form. It lies in the very conception of our being as we have here described it, that its individual distinctions should reach throughout the whole man in a permanent and
enduring way. Personality cannot be evolved at all, except in such
union with a particular natural organization, as to have wrought
into it, from first to last, the same particularity, as a necessary part
of its own constitution.  It is one of the great merits of Schleiernmacher again, to have perceived and asserted, with proper force, the
claims of the individual over against the authority of the universal
and absolute, as a permanent element in the constitution of man.
The question before us then, according to this view, is already answered. The multiplication of the race will not extend, it is true,
over into the other world, and with this must come to an end also
the present significance of sexual relation as concerned in that object; our whole present physical state indeed being but the transient
process, by which our being is destined to emerge hereafter into a
higher order of existence. In that higher state, we are told, they
shall neither marry nor be given in marriage, but resemble in this
respect the angels of heaven.  The family constitution, in its strict
sense, though it be the basis of all morality in its process of revelation, belongs only to the present order of things, and will not be
continued in the complete kingdom of God. But we may not suppo)se that the vast and mighty distinction of our nature, out of which
this radical constitution now springs, will come to an end in the
same way.  Entering as it does into the life of the entire person, it
cannot be overthrown by the simple elevation of our mortal individuality into the undying sphere of the spirit. On the contrary, it
may be expected rather to appear now under its most purely ethical,
and for that reason its highest also and richest form. In Christ
Jesus there is neither male nor female, as there is also neither Jew
nor Greek; not, however, by the full obliteration of all such differtn(ces, but only through their free harmonious comprehension in a
form of consciousness that is deeper than their opposition, and able
248 
OBJECTIONS ANSWEiXRED.
err in regard to the nature of the future life.  The
reason of your error is ignorance of the scriptural idca
of the reason of the matrimonial institution, which is
to people the earth, with the final object also of peopling
heaven, by the increase of holy families. But there
being no more death in heaven, the reason which induced Moses to command that the brother should take
her to wife, viz. to "raise up seed unto his brother,"
does not there exist; consequently the marriage insti.
tution will not continue in the resurrection; and hence
your objection to the resurrection on this ground has
no force.
We have before remarked, that the mere instinctive
attachments of kindred and friends are not in their
instinctive character eternal, but that they are designed
to be sanctified by grace; and that, in cases where this
is effected, their union with each other is a higher, an
eternal one; not, however, destroying natural instinctive attachments, but perfecting them. In like manner,
thus to reconcile them in an organic way. It is on the back ground
of such universal unity precisely, that the differences stand out after
all in the clearest delineation which their nature admits. There will
be races and nationalities and temperaments, strongly marked, in
heaven, no doubt, as we find them here in course of sanctification
upon the earth. And so there will be, not in the flesh but in the spirit,
the difference of sex there too. Humanity made for ever complete
in the new creation will comprise in itself still, as the deep groundtone of its universal organic harmony, the two great forms of existence in which it was comprehended at the beginning, when God(
created man, as we are told, male and female, after his own image.
In this view, it involves no extravagance to extend the idea of sex
even to the angels themselves, although they neither marry nor are
giver. in marriage.- Rev. Dr. J  TV.  F   evin, AMe cersburgy Reviewu, for
Nov. 1850.
249 
HIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
it may justly be supposed, that the affections creating
the marriage relation, in the case of the pious, are
raised by grace, out of the sphere of flesh and instinct
into the sphere of spirit; and thus, although the meaning and intent of this institution in its earthly sense,
comes to an end in death, the relation in its mystical
and spiritual sense continues, and its affections, beautiful and holy on earth, are made perfect and permanent
in heaven.
The probable nature of the relation, and the propriety of it, which those thus united on earth will continue to sustain to each other in heaven, may be farther
illustrated to our minds. The relation of parents to
their children, for instance, in much which that relation
involves, comes to an end and is left behind, by the
formation of new families, of which these children now
themselves become the heads. The formation of these
new relations does not, however, annihilate the filial
and parental affections that were begotten in these relttions which first existed; the children, though now
in another relation to their own children, and this perhaps a relation in some respects more sweet and
peculiar, nevertheless still feel themselves bound back
to their own parents in undying affection.  Having
become parents themselves, they do not cease to be
children; neither are their new parental feelings inconsistent with their old filial feelings -both dwell in
the sweetest peace in the same heart. Mysterious truth,
the parent is still the child! So, when those united
)n earth, in the marriage institution, shall have left
behind them the lower ties of their earthly relations
in death, the substance of those affections connected
250 
OBJECTIONS ANSWEhED.
with these relations now sanctified, may be elevated
with them into the higher sphere of eternal life and
love; and though, in the resurrection, they marry not,
and resume not their old relations in their earthly sense
and intent, yet the affections engendered in this relation, and made eternal by being made holy, may continue to incline them toward each other with sacred
preference in a higher state of being. We know that
those holy affections which are the precious joy of the
marriage state in this life, "cease not with the decay
of bodily vigor and beauty induced by old age itself,
but reach forward still, with a radiant light that grows
only more mellow as it is less tinged with the colouring
of sense, far down into the vale of years;" why should
we suppose it to end suddenly in the grave?
It is unreasonable, unphilosophical, and entirely
averse to the general spirit of Christianity, that such
a relation-not in form but in spirit, not in its earthly
features, but in the affections which it involves-should
ever come to an end.  Death itself cannot break its
bands asunder, nor take its cords from it. Beyond the
grave in an endless life alone, can this mystery evolve
fully its precious treasures. No shorter history can
afford adequate scope for the full perfection of this
relation- a relation which is grounded so deep in the
elements and constitution of our nature- upon which
the very  existence of the race depends-which is
strengthened by the mutual love of offspring as well
as by the holy influences of grace - which covers so
large and important a part of our earthly historywhich streams its influences with such momentous
power into all the other avenues and relations of life
251 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
and which finds its highest perfection in the life of
religion, being made the symbol of its deepest myste.
ries.  (Eph. v.)  It cannot be believed that the affec
tions begotten by such a relation and included in it,
can in all the fulness of their meaning come to an end
with the brief glare of a mortal life.  To enable us to
believe this, wve require more than a thousand objections like the one upon which we have made these cb.
servationrs.
252 
ANOTHER OBJECTION.
CHIAPTER XII,
Rituthr  phtrttion  tu  t   EurtrintI    of  DfautItq
1cr\ntgIInnU~.
"There shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying;
neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are
passed away."-A Voice from Heaven, Rev. xxi. 4.
IT has been objected, that if we shall be able to
know our friends in heaven, we should have to rmniss
some who will not be there. This, it has been thought,
would introduce pain and distress into heaven; for it
cannot be, it is supposed, that even in heaven we should
be able to endure without sorrow the absence of our
firiends - especially the thought that they are in the
world of despair.
This objection, no doubt, more than all other considerations, causes persons to doubt the doctrine of future
recognition. This difficulty, though perhaps in reality
not the greatest, comes nevertheless more than any
other home to the bosom of all; and it is by far tlie
most difficult one to answer satisfactorily, because of
those instinctive feelings which come in to obscure the
judgment; thus hindering the force of argument, and
22
2,53 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
vastly magnifying the difficulty.  It is not so much our
minds, as our feelings, that give us trouble on this
point.   We will carefully examine this objection, believing that the observations we shall make will entirely
remove any unpleasant doubts that may have been entertained in regard to it. Let it, however, be distinctly
borne in mind, that no objection, however formidable
it may seem, can of itself prove this, or any other doctrine, untrue.* God is master of all difficulties; and,
although we may not be able to see how they can be
removed, they will nevertheless be removed if God so
wills it.
There are different ways in which the difficulty on
which this objection rests may reasonably be supposed
to be removed. We will present them in order; and
though any one consideration may not in itself give
full satisfaction, yet all taken together will, we hope,
prove entirely conclusive.
I. In death, all ties which are not sanctified, and
* "If casting up objections is a legitimate mode of deciding a
question, we may form, and retort, the same objection, with more
reason, against those who believe that we shall not know one another
in heaven; for we may say, also, that not knowing the persons, we
shall not know whether our parents or our friends are there; and
this is likely to disturb the quiet and satisfaction of our minlds; but
to argue in this gross manner, is to confound heaven with the earth.
Grief and displeasure can never be admitted in a paradise of joy
and perfect happiness. In this glorious condition, our knowledge
shall be so clear, our charity so pure, our love to God so fervent,
that, as we shall love all things which God shall love, and where his
image shall appear, so it shall not be possible for us to love them
whom God shall hate, them who shall bear the marks anl characters
of the devil."
254 
ANOTIhER OBJECTION.
thus made eternal by the life and power of grace, must
be dropped and left behind.
There are many ties which are in no sense, and in
no degree, gracious.  Ties that have not been formed
by the life of religion, and which are not sustained and
pervaded by it.  There are ties, in the formation of
which religion has not in the least been recognized, and
which have no religious end in view. All ties between
saints and sinners are of this kind. These must perish
in death.
Let it be well remembered that even the ties of
kindred are merely and entirely natural and instinctive, unless they are elevated and sanctified by grace.
Though higher in degree they are the same in kind as
the attachments of instinct in animal life. These warm
affections rise entirely out of the bosom of nature, and
have nothing moral in them until they are raised out
of the sphere of nature into the sphere of grace by
religion. Thus the affections of kindred and of friendship, where religion has not brought them under its
power, remain entirely instinctive and natural. Take
as an example the fond affection of a mother for her
babe.  "Whence come those bursts of maternal tenderness with which she is wont to caress the much-loved
object? Whence those expressions of heartfelt sympathy with which she enters into its pains and innocent
pleasures - the promptness with which she administers
to its many little wants- the unwearied assiduity with
wNhich she watches over it in the hour of sickness, and
the bitter sorrow into which she is plunged as soon as
death tears it from her fond embrace? It is the impulse of animal nature-the flow and specific direction
205 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
of a certain class of feelings, which are not to be accounted for on any principle of duty, or on any consideration of general humanity." Are not in this case
all religious or moral motives to love suspended by the
strong flow of instinct and nature? The heathen mother does the same.   The  godless  mother, dead in
trespasses and in sins, does just so. Yea, do not animals
caress and fondle their offspring in the same way?
Here then is nature, and nothing else. These affections
are grounded in nature; but are capable of, and are
intended to be, elevated and perfected in grace. These
instinctive feelings are to be superseded by the holy
life of moral love. If the mother be pious, these affections are already under the power of grace; her affections stoop into instinctive nature, but rise at pleasure
into the higher and holy life of grace.  Instinct is
glorified and made eternal. Natural love becomes
moral. When that child grows up to an intelligent age,
and becomes pious like its mother, its own instinctive
affections will also rise from nature into grace.   The
life of Christ, the influences of the blessed Spirit, and
not mere instinctive nature, will then mediate between
them, and be the highest and holiest media of their
intercourse with each other.  Grace in the heart of
each will then rise to a level and flow together, and
they will be one in Christ for ever as members of his
mystical body. Nature, as it bound them before, will
not be destroyed but absorbed and included in grace,
and thus made eternal. The ties of kindred remaining,
these new  moral affections may frequently ebb and
merge back into them  and become sweetly human.
Thus we see the difference between human affections,
255 
ANOTItER OBJECTION.
that are merely human, and human affections which
are gracious and eternal, wihile they remain hunian
still. 
Suppose, however, that the child, in the instance
just supposed, should ripen in sin as it ripens in years,
while its mother is pious. In that case the ties of instinct
will still remain, and the mother will still continue to
love her child with the same human love, and her love
in the sphere of instinctive nature will be reciprocated
by her child; but the higher life of grace, which alone
can make these ties eternal, is wanting in the child;
hence the tie which binds them cannot survive death.
Nature and instinct, with all the attachments which
rest on them, must perish.   When the child dies, the
cord of instinct is broken, and there being no basis for
eternal affection common to both remnaining, the relationt Ahas perished.  The mother may grieve, and even
suppose, while in this sphere of earthly imperfection,
that she shall grieve in heaven because her child will
not be there; but she may be surprised at last, that
her instinctive affections, so far as they were merely
natural, to which alone the natural affections of her
child gave response, are as if they had never existed.
She never had any affection for her child a.s a Christian; the relation was of the earth, earthy, and must
meet the fate of all earthly things.
The same may be said of the ties of the marriage
relation. The marriage cords are designed to be hloly,
and must be sanctified by the life of grace in order to
fulfil their intent. They may be, and ought to be,
mvstical and holy; and they must be, in order to be
eternal.'low often, however, are they also merelv
CID:
__..
257 
IHEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
instinctive; yea, not even that in many  cases, but
merely prudential and arbitrary, sinking far beneath
instinct into the unhallowed regions of nature, senIse
and sin! Even a religious basis is not recognizecd in
them, but the whole relation is regarded as only t
civil contract - a thing of the state, and not of the
church-a thing of man, not of God-a thing of earth,
not of heaven. No religious en(l is acknowleldged(l in
it. If the intent of this institution, in the view of such,
extend beyond the lowv consideration of personal propensities, both in a bad and good sense, and contemplate as its object the civil end of peopling the state,
yet it never rises to the religious idea of peopling heaven, and of meeting one day in the land of eternal
promise, a seed like the stars and the sands for multitu(le. Can affections having no higher, no purer basis,
live for ever? Certainly not. No more than sin itself,
for they are imbedded and matured in sin.  When, however, these affections in the marriage relation rise from
nature and sin into grace, so that this tie has indeed
something in it which makes it an appropriate symbol
of the union between Christ and His church, and between believers and Christ, (Eph. v.) then, as in the
case of the mother and child, they will be united, not
in nature merely, but in grace -not in grace alone,
but in iiature and in grace. Nature will be sanct.fied
in grace, and will finally be glorified and made eternal.
Thus the ties and affections which enter into the natiiial relation of marriage will continue, but only because they live for ever in the life and love of grace;.
This is a great, a solemn, a beautiful mystery!
Suppose now, that the husband is unregenerate a,,(,
253 
ANOTIIER OBJECTIOLN.
the wife is pious; is it iiot plain that tipsy mnay be
united on earth in the lower life of natuire, which is
common to both, and even with much warmth of affection, and yet when both are dead, that which was common with both is left behind with nature, and all the
affections which rested on it will be as though they had
not been? She, the pious wife, never had any communion with him, the unregenerate husband, in the new
and higher life of grace; for there was nothing in him
that could make response to her feelings in the sphere
of religious affections.  There never was any union
between them in the eternal life of grace; how then
can it be renewed and continue in heaven? She may
cherish his memory in grief for a wise purpose, while
she lives; but when nature, with its instinctive attachnments, dies with her, she will not be conscious in liheaven of any sense of loss; should she even remember
that such a relation once existed, she will have lost all
her affinities for it, and feel no more pain from the
remembrance of its existence than the saints of heaven
can at the remembrance of those sins from which they
are now washed in the blood of the Lamb.   "Neither
shall there be any more pain; for the former things
are passed away!"
That there is this essential difference between affections that lie in the sphere of nature and those which
lie in the sphere of grace, no one who believes the
scripture representations of this matter can for a moment  doubt.  Indeed  so insignificant, according to
scripture, are the mere instinctive relations of nature
in themselves, that, however lovely they may exhibit
themselves in the social life of earth, they are never
259 
e
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
theless perfect vanity. Like beautiful flowers o)f earth,
they are praised by the traveller that hastens by, but
they die where they bloomed. The formation of the
marriage relation, in cases where it involves this difficulty, is absolutely forbidden.  "Only in the Lord,"
is the apostolic injunction in regard to the formation
of this sacred tie. In general, the forming of ties,
with unbelievers or unregenerate persons, is called an
"unequal yoking together;" and it is asked with most
emphatic earnestness: "What fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath
light with darkness?" 2 Cor. vi. 14. Truly it is a
yoking, not matching. It is a relation, but no fellowship. It is a mere outward conjunction, cold as the
moon, which lacks entirely the lovely life and warmth
of an inward union - and how can it survive death?
On the contrary, grace forms ties which do not destroy nature, but raise it up to a higher level. While
it unites kindred and relatives more closely than ever,
it takes into its embraces "all saints," and drops all
sinners.  So far do the ties in grace exceed all others,
that when the sacred writers speak of them, they, for
the time being, comparatively lose sight of all the
earthly relations of kindred.   In this sense the words
of the Saviour, which some have even been tempted to
censure as cold, become warmly and beautifully intelligible.  "While Hle yet talked with the people, behold,
Ihis mother and His brethren stood without, desiring to
speakl with Him. Then one said unto Him, Behold.
thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to
speak with thee.  But Hle answered and said unto him,
Who is my mother? and who arc my brethren?  And
26(0 
ANOTIIER OBJECTION.
He stretclhed forth IIis hand toward His disciples, and
said, Behold my mother and my brethren!  For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in hleaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother."
Matt. xii. 46-50. The Saviour did not intend by this
expression coldly to disown His kindred- for, as we
have seen in another place, Hle not only loved them,
but He loved them particularly -but merely to inltimate to them that there are ties higher than kindred;
and that, while these affections still lived with Him,
they lived in a higher sphere than mere instinctive nature: in the sphere of grace, in which He had strong
affinities of love for all that did God's will.
Thus, then, we see, that as there is a natural body
and also a spiritual body, so there are natural affections and spiritual affections - and natural affections
that may become spiritual. Those which rise out of
nature will sink back again into nature, unless they
are taken up into grace; and those, and those alone,
which rise into grace, will live for ever.  "As is the
earthly, such are they also that are earthly: and as is
the heavenly, such are they also that are heavenly.
And as we have borne the image of the earthly, we
shall also bear the image of the heavenly.  Now this
I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the
kingdom of God." 1 Cor. xv. 48-50. Flesh and
blood, and the earthly, in this passage, mean mere
human nature without the renovation of grace by "the
Lord from heaven." All relations and affinities, there fore, in which a renovated saint may have stood to one
of " flesh and blood," who bears only "the image of
the earthly," will be broken off and left behind in
261 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
death, and consequently never become a source of pain
and trouble in heaven.
This answer of the objection under consideration,
we feel sure, would be conclusive to all, were it not for
the risings of natural feelings over reason and faith,
while we yet know but in part, thus destroying in a
great degree the force of the argument. This weakness
of faith, and its disposition to flow in the stream of
natural instinctive feeling, may more or less trouble us
through life, as we are similarly troubled in the same
way on other points; and it may be wisely so designed,
in order to make us more zealous for the salvation of
our friends and kindred; but we are sure that none of
these painful yearnings of nature will follow us through
the swellings of Jordan into the land of holy love and
pure society.
II. If we should even feel that the above mode of
answering the objection is not satisfactory, and that
these unsanctified instinctive affinities will not perish
in death, we may resort to other considerations in order
to get clear of any trouble which this difficulty may
occasion our thoughts and feelings. We may suppose
that God, who is superior to all difficulties, and with
whom nothing is impossible, may interpose his power
in some way unknown to us, in order to efface from the
recollections of the saints all remembrance of any
earthly relations which might awaken painful sensations
in heaven.   "It is surely," says one, "neither irrational nor inconsistent with a becoming sense of human
infirmity, to suppose that the recollection of an unwelcoime event hereafter can be voluntarily expelled from
2 6.1 
ANOTIIER OBJECTION.
the mind, or will have no other effect than to increase
the gratitude of the redeemed, and enhance the joys
of heaven.  Standing on the mount of eternal safety,
with what unspeakable delight may we conceive them
to look down upon the valley of sin and humniliation
beneath them! every painful emotion being absorbed
in the overflowings of joy and thankfulness to Him
who redeemed them by His blood, and conducted them
by His providence, to an incorruptible and unfading
inheritance. And since the moral perfection to which
they will then have attained forbids us to suppose that
memory or any other faculty will be applied to a sinful
or unworthy purpose, may we not presume that many
of those recollections which now find a frequent, and,
alas! unwelcome entrance into their minds, to the great
detriment of their peace and improvement, will find no
place in the associations of eternity?"
It is, moreover, not at all difficult to believe, that
even without any miraculous interposition on the part
of God, but just in the regular process of things, the
remembrance of the lost may gradually fade from our
memories.  We see traces of this in this life.  Those
feelings of grief over the death of wicked friends which
were so pungent, and almost intolerable at first, have
gradually settled down into quiet resignation.  Time
flows on, and the wound is healed and forgotten.
What even remains of this kind of sorrow in the heart
in this world of infirmity and imperfection, may entirely disappear in heaven, as the worm drops his grovelling attachments as soon asvhe rises into the nobler
capacity of a light-winged inhabitant of the upper air.
" The circumstance of their being removed out of sig7lt
2 6 -I) 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
of their former friends will probably cause their fate
to be contemplated with less lively and pungent feelings.
Further, the lapse of time will probably co-operate with
absence, and eventually obliterate the remembrance of
them from the memories of the blessed."*
We will venture the remark that it is proved by experience that in this world the cords of affection which
bind pious persons to impious relations are gradually
weakened(l, until at length they have scarcely any power
except what remains of the force of instinctive feeling,
and the mechanical power of habit. Upon the same
principle that unreasonable creatures, long yoked together in the same routine of service, feel a kind of necessity of being together, so these, though the cord
which binds them to each other is not love and inward
union, but mere outward habit.  They chime together,
not in the free acts of will, but like the wheels and
cogs of machinery; and, like it, their working together
becomes daily more loose and rickety in their inward
attachments.  This process of inward alienation will
be greatly accelerated by the disorganization which the
rupture of death produces; and, as in heaven the saints
will have more intolerance to sin than they can possi
bly have here, what remains at death of this instinctive
and habitual affection will be cast back to forgetfulness
with a kind of abrupt and holy violence. Or, if even
the remembrance of sinful friends should be, for a time,
compatible with heavenly felicity, the unpleasantness,
(wve have no better word,) of such remembrance would
gradually lead to entire forgetfulness.
* Mant.
2C)4 
ANOTHIIER OBJECTION.
1We find that in this world events which afford us no
pleasure are not revolved in our minds, and thus by
degrees fade from our recollection, while such as are
pleasant fill their place and become prominent in our
memories, though they may not have  been so when
they transpired.  It is upon this principle, and by this
process, that many of the sins of a Christian's past
life are graciously made to fade back into dim forgetfulness, and finally into entire oblivion. Thus the past
life of the saints, so far as it is marked by any thing
that is not meet to enter the heavenly world with them,
is followed up by the shades of dark annihilation, while
before them in a hopeful and cloudless heaven the sweet
stars arise as an eternal  protest against the darkness
of earth, and an ever-recurring promise of brighter and
purer realms on high.
III. In this world, the grief of those who lose impenitent relatives by death is much assuaged by a kind
of "h lope against hope" that they are perhaps after all
saved and in happiness. It has been suggested that
this sweet and consoling uncertainty may extend into
the future life.  Hleaven is spacious.   When we consider the "multitudes which no man can number." which
John saw, when he saw heaven opened eighteen hundredl years ago- when we add to their number all who
have since died in the faith, including all infants, which
are more than one-half of the human race-and when
we still add to these all who shall yet be saved fromn
tho earth, especially in the latter-day glory, when  a
nation shall be born in a day- how perfectly beyond
all comprehension must be the magnitude of the lica       23
265 
II EAVENLY RECOGNITION.
venly hosts, anid howl almost infinite must  be those
realms of light in which they dwell.   Well has the
Saviour said. as if to insure accommodations to the
countless hosts of the redeemed,  "in  my  Fathier's
house are many mansions."  Whether these many mansioIns are to he viewed as adapted to different degrees
of glory and happiness, or merely as places of extensive accommodation for so many  hildren of God, in
either case it affords room in some degree to extend
the sweet suspense alluded to into the heavenly world.
"The lot of some," says bishop Mant, "may be cast
in some of these' mansions', and of others in others;
and hence there may be room for imagining that some
are in a state of happiness, though they be not brought
to the knowledge of their former relations and friends."
May not this thought be the first to enter the mind
by way of reconciling it to the absence of some remembered relatives, if so be that some faint remembrance
of these instinctive ties should even revive with the
future life of the saints.  Then gradually, and by a
process entirely natural, the onward flow of time and
of heavenly joys may obliterate all recollection of themn.
MAemory, in this life, does not retain all that it has
known; and may not this feature of nmemrory, which
we here regard an imperfection, become a real perfection in heaven, while it drops gradually into forgetfulness all its unpleasant associations.
IV. We have positive and actual evidence that th(e
knowledge of the fate of those that are lost, even where
affection for them once was strong, is not incompatible
with the ful! ahcid happy enjoyment of lieavenly fciice;ty.
-)66 
ANOTItER OBJECTION.
The Saviour, for instance, is perfectly happy in lIeaven, with a full knowledge of the situation of the lost,
and yet He once loved them.   Will any one say that
His love for them was not once as strong as ours can
possibly be for any of our friends'? He certainly did
for these sinners what none of us would do for our
kindled, while they are enemies to us.  " He sticketlh
closer than a brother."   Yet on account of their final
impenitency his feelings toward them have undergone
a change; so that though  ie once distressed Himself
on their account, their situation does not now interfere
with His heavenly felicity.  Once their condition cost
Him tears, but now Ite weeps no more!  May not we
expect a similar change to take place in our feelings?
Now, nature rebels against that thought, and is far
from desiring such a change; yet this is not the first
time that God's goodness and grace have done for us
far better than our wishes.
The same may be said of the angels in glory.  They
once loved those angels which are now fallen. They
know also their doom and present situation. Who will
say that the love for each other which reigned in the
holy hearts of angels, before the fall of some, was not
as strong and tender as kindred love on earth can possibly be - especially as all earthly affection is tainted
more or less by sin.  Yet we know that their joys in
heaven are not for one moment interrupted by painful
thoughts of their lost companions.   In like manner
also angels in heaven are acquainted with tho situation
of lost spirits of men -those in wvhom they were interested, over whom repentance they waited to rejoice;
and though they are better acquainted than we can
267 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
possibly be with the deep woes of the second death,
yet they werep not, nor grieve, over their hapless fate.
They contemplate the judgments of a righteous God,
not with regret and sorrow, but with humility and
adoring reverence.
Though we may not feel ourselves able to decide
correctly as to the way and manner in which this
matter is adjusted, yet seeing that a similar relation
between Christ, angels, and the lost, involves no difficulty, we have satisfactory reason to rest calmly in the
patience of faith, and not to suffer difficulties which we
see have been and can be removed weaken or disturb
our faith in the consoling doctrine of heavenly recognition.
V. The last, and perhaps by far the most important
consideration we have to offer by way of answering the
objection before us, is that in heaven there will be such
entire sympathy between us and God, that our wills
will fall in entirely and cheerfully with His will. In
the language of another: "We shall have no separate
desires or inclinations from Him. We shall see that
all He does is wisest and best, and deserving of our
unqualified approbation.   Here we not unfrequently
revolt against His appointments, because we bear within us the remains of a corrupt nature; or because we
(lo not fully comprehend His designs; or because in
our hearts the affection for God has not that superiority
over our affection for the objects of earth which it ought
to have.  But in heaven, where not only the dominion.
but even the existence of depravity, shall be destroyed
in our souls -in heaven, where we shall so far com
268 
:\NiTHiER OBJECTION.
preleind the reason of God's conduct  as to perceive
that his attributes must be destroyed if he acted otherwise-in heaven, where love to the creature will justly
be subordinated to love to the Creator, our wills shall
be so absorbed in God's, as to form but one with it:
and, of course, no murmur will escape-no pang rend
our hearts - for any of his dealings with those whom
we loved on earth."*
That such unity of our wills with the divine will can
take place, as entirely to change, not only our natural
feelings, but even some of those affections which are
in other circumstances seemingly pious, is evident from
the case of David's praying for the destruction of his
enemies.  Piety teaches us to pray for our enemies
under ordinary circumstances, and forbids a vindictive
spirit toward them; and in no way can this conduct of
David, which so often comes to light in the Psalms, be
reconciled with the Christian spirit, except upon the
principle that his soul had risen into such entire union
with God, and sympathy with Ihis honour, that he felt
that God was injured in his own injuries, and thus the
breathing forth of prayer for their destruction was but
the going forth of the spirit of God's justice through
lI il.  The second table of the law, which says, "love
thy neighbour as thyself," was, in the spiit of Davi(l,
taken up into the first, which commanded him to love
God above all.  This entitled him, in very deed, to the
appellation of "a man after God's own heart."
This same sense of entire union with the will of God,
which exhibits itself so complete in the Psalmist, is in
a lesser degree begun in all saints onl earth, and will
* Kerr.
2 (-;',-)
23 * 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
become perfect with their perfection in heaven. The
martyrs have shown it, in hating comparatively their
own life and their own bodies, that they might not
break unity with the divine will.  If our desire to continue in union with the divine will can thus induce us
cheerfully to dismiss our own life, will not the same
spirit, possessed in a still higher degree in heaven,
enable us to dismiss from our affections those of our
friends whose flesh and life were not certainly nearer
to us than our own, when we know them to be the
enemies of God in heart? Alas for us, if we do not
meet in us this willingness! In that case we shall never
find ourselves in heaven; for, "if any man come to
me, and hate not-  (how strong is this expression!)
and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and
children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own
life also, he cannot be my disciple!" uIatt. x. 37. The
sense of this passage is strongly and beautifully in
place here.  The meaning of it evidently is, that we
must so love God, and so love what he loves, that if
even our attachments to our nearest kindred should interfere with this love, we must withdraw our affections
from them.  Is this the feeling of him who would sit
in heaven and weep for God's enemies, or grieve at the
exercise of Hlis justice, even if those enemies are our
nearest kindred according to the flesh?  This, which,
to our earthly sense, seems a hard requirement, becomes not only easy, but even a delight, to those wvho
love God supremely, and " who walk not after the fleshi
bltt after the spirit."
There is a fine example of this requirement and its
complete fulfilment recorded in Leviticus, x. 1-8. Na
270 
AN OTIIER OBJECTION.
dab and Abihu, the two sons of Aaron, sinned in offering strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded
not. Fire went out from the Lord and devoured them,
so that they died. This was a severe stroke on Aaron,
their father; but when Moses told him that this hbad
happened in accordance with God's declared will, that
hlie might be sanctified in all that came nilgh to him,
and glorified in the eyes of all people, "Aaron held
his peace."  Moses commanded two of Aaron's cousins
to carry the young men out of the camp. But what
seems most of all severe to the sympathies of flesh and
blood, is, that Aaron their father, and his two remaining sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, the brethren of the two
dead young men, were forbidden by Moses to nmourn or
grieve for t/heir kiindred in this their dreadful fate!
"Uncover not your heads, neither rend your clothes,
lest ye die, and lest wrath come upon all the people."
No, not a tear for the enemies of the Lord, when lie
judg,eth them, even though they be your children and
your brethren!-lest ye show that your mind is not
with God's mind, your will not as His will.  " And they
did according to the word of Moses!"
Is this possible on earth, where imperfection, like a
dark veil, covers and obscures our complete knowledge
of God's wisdom and love- where all our affections
are tainted with some corrupting instincts of remaining
unsanctified nature; and shall it not much ratlherc be
in heaven, where all the reasons of God's dealings with
us shall be more fully known —where all our infirmities
shall be left behind, and where we shall be "in the
lighlt as he is in the light."  Surely then  nothing will
hinder us fiom falling in fully with all IHis ways; we
2 i'l 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
shall approve, not only what we now see to be right,
and what we towv feel able to approve; but, forgetting
all creatures, and filled with the one idea of God,,great,
wise and good, we shall be able to join heartily in the
heavenly exclamation: "Great and marvellous are thy
works, Lord God Almighty; just and right are ALL
thy ways, thou king of saints."
Fear not, the prospect of the realms of woe
Shall mar thy bliss, or thence sad thoughts arise
To blunt thy sense of heavenly ecstasies.
There, if thy heart with warm devotion glow
Meet for thy place,'t will solace thee to know
No friend of thine,'mid those keen agonies,
In that dark prison-house of torment lies;
For none is there but is of God the foe,
An alien thus from thee. The ties of blood,
And earth's most sacred bonds, are but a twine
Of gossamer, compared with what is owed
To Him, the Lord of all! On Him recline;
He shall thy heart of every care unload,
He bid thy day with cloudless lustre shine.
Meu
272 
IN ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
CIIAPTER XIII.
Te PurriiI  uf  icfUauIIIt 1   r~xugIitii        u i il   it5i 4[trtial
Cfffrt5.
Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud
To damp our brainless ardors; and abate
That glare of life, which often blinds the wise.
Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth
Our rugged path to death, to break those bars
Of terror and abhorrence, nature throws
'Cross our obstructed way; and thus, to make
Welcome as safe, our port from every storm.
YOUNG.
" WHIIAT good?"- though this is not the most important question to be asked in the investigation of a doctrine, it nevertheless deserves some consideration, in
bringing our minds to a conclusion in respect to its
merits. If a doctrine have a good practical tendency,
it is a presumption in its favor. Error has no such
tendency. It is of the earth, earthy. It always tends
to lead the mind and heart towards the seen, the material, the temporal.  It tends to beget a cold and sceptical indifference towards the future, and the eternal.
It does not increase the warmth of our feelings towards
273 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITIOi
realities that lie beyond the reach of sense. FError is
necessarily negative, and of course destructive.  It
leans not on faith, but on sight. Hence it always comes
to an end by running out into fruitlessness.   The best
service it' renders to man is when all its effects die out
of his heart.
T'ruth is fruitful in good; and we have the Saviour's
own authority for applying to this doctrine, as to all
others, the test: "By their fruits ye shall know them."
If the fruit is good, the doctrine must be good and
true.  We have therefore. a two-fold object in view, in
introducing this concluding chapter, on the practical
tendencies of this doctrine; while, on the one hand, it
will add another argument in favor of its truth, it will
also aid us in makling a useful application of it.
We would earnestly ask, what bad influence the belief of this doctrine can have on those who hold to it?
We can think of none. We can, however, think of
many good influences which it sheds over the heart.
This tree yields only good fruit. We can say of it, as
the spouse did of Christ, the tree of Life: "I sat under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was
sweet to my taste." As the strongest influences are
always most gentle and silent, we can only describe
them in their most prominent features, leaving the
mind to fill out the more delicate and lovely details of
the picture.
I. A warm faith in this doctrine has a tendency to
elevate, strengthen, and purify all our earthly affections. In this busy, bustling, and jostling life, where
se) kinterest and worldliness are such prominent factors,
274 
IN ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
there is great danger that friendship and love be regarded as mere matters of earthly convenience. Amid
these mercenary influences the higher affections of the
soul become gradually carnalized, anl are soon valued,
like all things of earth, merely for their present use.
Even kindred are often cast coldly away, because they
are deemed unprofitable in an earthly point of view.
After the manner of Ephraim, "lovers are hired," who
love while it yields advantage to them, and cease when
the pay ceases; or are themselves dismissed when no
more needed. Thus there is a strong tendency to hinge
the friendships of life upon the low motives of prudence
and policy.
Is it not quite natural that such debasing tendencies
should appear, where ties of friendship and even of
kindred are supposed to end with earth? Of what use
can that be, which begins and ends on earth, but to
serve earthly purposes? If friendships do not extend
beyond the grave, it is difficult to prove that they
are any more worthy of being cherished than other
interests which contribute only to earthly convenience
and profit.  How degrading, however, is this to those
ties which are so much praised in poetry, music, eloquence and religion! Just as intellect is degraded
when it is not animated by a life and light from heaven, so friendship, when confined to this life, is but as
a crazed wanderer, who for our attention returns us
only an idiot's meaningless gaze.
How elevating to our affections, on the other hanrd,
is the thought that friendships are eternal if pure; that
the ties we form on earth, on virtuous and holy principles, will continue through death, and be made perfect
275 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
and permanent in heaven! This makes the cultivation
of friendship a high aim. Even the pursuit of knowledge, so fat as it has merely this world in view, and is
unsanctified by religion, is low compared with this; for
"charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they
shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish
away."  All our intercourse with our friends will be
more holy and heavenly, if we regardcl them as those
whso shall be ours in heaven as well as upon earth.
"The addition of a good friend or relative will be the
addition of one who will share with us the joys of immortality; who will enter with us into the city of the
living God,  and  be  our everlasting companion  in
glory."
The sentiment uttered by the pious Baxter, in relation to this subject, commends itself as true, to all who
are truly pious, and who cannot be content to love what
must remain on earth and die.  "I must confess, as
the experience of my own soul, that the expectation
of loving my friends in heaven principally kindles my
love to them on earth. If I thought that I should
never know them, and consequently never love them
after this life is ended, I should in reason number them
with temporal things, and love them as such.  But I
now delight to converse with my pious friends, in a
firm persuasion that I shall converse with them for
ever; and I take comnfort in those of them that are
dead or absent, as believing I shall shortly meet thein
in heaven, and love them with a heavenly love that
shall there be perfected."
27'6 
IN ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
IT. Not only will the belief in eternal friendship
elevate and refine our social affections, and cause us to
love our friends more tenderly and more holily, but it
will induce us also to see the importance of formini)
only pious firiendships. There is a strange recklessness
in this respect prevailing. Not only are many of the
common friendships of life formed without any refience to religion, but even marriage - if such'unequal
yokings' can be called marriages - are often formed
between children of Christ and children of Belial!
Such connections would not be formed as they are,
were there a deep heartfelt belief that true love and
friendship are eternal.  There is evidently in such
cases no serious reflection as to the final fate of these
ties in death.
On this point nothing can be said more appropriate
than the following, sentiments of Dr. Price.  " HIow
shocking must it be to believe that our dearest intimate
is one whom we cannot expect to see hereafter in bliss,
one who wants the love of God, and who is hastening
fast to eternal punishment?  How can any one think
of having in his bosom an enemy to the order of the
world, and a child of perdition and ruin?  With what
pain must an attentive person look upon such a friend,
and what concern must he feel for him? On this account, were irreligious friends to allow themselves time
enough for reflection, they would necessarily be the
causes of the greatest trouble to one another.  Did
they duly attend to their own circumstances, the dan.
ger they are in, the precariousness of life, and the
nearness of the time when they shall be separated,
never again to meet, except in that world where joy is
24
277 
IIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
never known, and hope never comes; did they, I say,
properly attend to these things, they would surely be
incapable of bearing one another: their love would be
turned into anguish, and their friendship into horror!"
Where, however, the belief in eternal ties is active,
no such unholy fellowships will be formed.  There will
be a holy shudder at the very idea of living in marriage, through life, with " a vessel of wrath, fitted for
destruction;" with not only the danger of being corrupted by a relation so intimate and so evil, but with
the sure prospect also that ties which now make "a
fair show in the flesh" of being love, will end at death
in an eternal blank!
Thus a firm and devout faith in this doctrine would
not only greatly change our notions of the value of
friends, but also of the nature of friendship. The light
of love would then have to be the light of piety; and
all other dazzling qualities would be regarded but as
the false light of a splendid cheat! Love toward others
would then be regarded by us — what it really is - the
love of God in us; and no ties would be either formed
or valued except such as have the prospect of extending
into an endless life, to be renewed and perfected in the
joyous and holy communion of the saints in light.
III. The belief in heavenly recognition has also a
tendency to bring us more strongly and sweetly under
the power of heavenly realities and attractions.
We think of heaven but vaguely unless we think of
it as the abode of sainted friends. Though our Saviour
is the chief attraction of the place, yet I-le, as the light
of the upper temple, reveals to us also the saints as the
278 
IN ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
happy worshippers; thus presenting to our minds these
subordinate attractions, begetting in us a kind of familiar home-feeling, and giving to heavenly joys a definiteness which they would not otherwise have.  When
we hear of a distant country, especially if we hear
much in praise of it, we think and speak of it, it is
true, yet not in the same way as we do when once some
of our dearest friends have gone to dwell there; then
our thoughts and feelings assume a definiteness in reference to it, which they had not before. So in regard
to heaven, when once we regard it as the home of our
sainted friends. Then it is, to us, no more heaven in a
vague and general idea, but it is heaven as the abode
of our departed friends -it is heaven as the place
where we expect soon to rejoin them; —this gives distinctness and intensity to all our thoughts of it. Then
our hearts transfer themselves to it, and live in it.
Then, in faith,
Our dying friends come o'er us like a cloud
To damp our brainless ardors; and abate
That glare of life, which often blinds the wvise.
Mluch is gained as help to devout reverence and tender
piety in thus drawing around us the solemn mysteries
of eternity; especially so, if we can recognize by faith
the alluring smiles of friends, looking out upon us
through the cloudy veil which partly hides its mysteries, like the golden light through the vista of clouds
which hang along the evening sky. The love which
we bear towards the saints in the triumphant church,
draws us towards them with humble reverence. It is a
sw, et attraction, which causes us to linger, in affee
27f) 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
tionate longings, on the confines of the shadowy spirits
land.  It gives us an indescribable desire for their
"silent company."  It is said that the home-sickness
of the Swiss soldiers in foreign lands was often so
strong that they must return to their beloved home in
the Alps or die; all was dreary and tasteless to them
in absence, while the "sweet home" of their childhood
hovered in smiles around them in visions of the day, and
in dreams of the night. So it is with those to whom
heaven is a Fatherland-the bright home-like abode
of kindred and friends. It brings with it an unquenchable desire to leave this foreign land and return home.
It familiarizes us with death as a narrow crossing. it
keeps the power of eternal things near us; and, to a
great extent, converts the valley of the shadow of death
into gardens of the Lord, through which lies the Father's pleasant highway, by which I-Iis children return
to Ilim and to each other.
We very much need influences like these to break in
upon the lower attachments of life, which are too prone
to detain our thoughts and feelings.  Even when we
very well know, in theory, what value to set upon
earthly things, we need also to learn the value of heavenly things, in order to enable us to feel practically
the vanity of earth. The Poet has truly said,
'Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but, to commune with heaven'Tis not so easy.
As already suggested, it is true that Christ, and the
things which He has prepared for us, ought to be to us
the chief attraction of heaven, and we shall no doubt
280 
IN ITS PPRACTICAL EFFECTS.
find it to be so when we get there; but while we are
in this world of imperfections, God graciously stoops
to our' infirmities, and draws us also by the love of our
beloved friends as with the "cords of a man."   " The
mIemory of the sainted dead hovers, a blessed and purifying, influence, over the hearts of men.  At the grave
of the good, so far from losing heart, the spirituallyminded find new strength.  They weep, but as they
veep, they lookl down into the sepulchre, and behold
angels sitting, and  the dead come nearer, and are
united to them by a fellowship more intimate than that
of l)l(,od."
Itow soul-subduing is the thought, that but a thin
veil, which a moment may lift, divides us from the conscious fellowship of our beloved dead!  I-How solemnn
the thought that, being raised into a higher sphere,
they may even now know much more of us than we do
of       them.  How like devotion does the place become to
us,   when we sit alone and summon around us their
familiar faces; or, when we think of them  in their
white robes, with harps and palms, bending before the
throne or walking in "heavenly pastime."  It makes
us       feel almost like the Publican, who stood afar off,
casting a wishful and reverent look towards the holiest
place, but conscious of his unworthiness to enter it. A
sweet penitence comes over our hearts, and we look
immediately to Jesus for a fresh application of his
cleansing blood, that we may be made more like those
into whose holy society we expect soon to be introduced.  \When the spirit of earthliness and sense hangs
too heavily upon our affctions and thoughts, so that
wc  cannot rise to the contemplation of heavenly at       t1 *
2 ' 1 
lIEAVENLY RECOGNITION
tractions as we desire, the prayer of the Poet is excusable.
Ye holy dead, now come around,
InI season mnore profound;
And through the barriers of our sense
Shed round your calming influence;
In silence come and solitude,
With thoughts that o'er the mourner brood.
IV. The belief in heavenly recognition presents a
strong and touching motive to piety.
hIow can we, who have sainted friends, continue to
live in an unregenerate and sinful state? We have
heard of one, who declared that nothing troubled him
more In his sinful state than the thought of his mother
in heaven!  He feared that she knew of it; and he
also dreaded an eternal separation from  her!  Do we
believe that our separation from our fiiends will be an
eternal one, unless we repent and become pious?  Can
we be content one moment longer in sin, when we
firmly believe that, should we die in our present condition, the look which we cast upon the face of our dear
fiiend before the coffin-lid was closed, was the last look
for ever! - that those eyes, that countenance, shall
beam on us no more! - that where he is we can never
come!  Who can endure this searching thought, and
continue to sin on earth while his bosom fiiend is singing in heaven? Alas! that such infatuation should be
found on earth! yet there are many who have parents,
brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, and children in hea,ven, whom they will never see! But is not this in
spite of this touching motive to piety?  Is it not a
strange madness?
"-I 8 2 
IN ITS PIRACTICAL EFFECTS.
Who would not strive to win a heaven
\Where all we love shall live again'.
God graciously designs that the death of our friends,
and our desire to meet them again, should lead us to
piety. "No one dieth to himself." Their death, as
well as their life, is in this way to be of real service
t       o us. It is  m   ost beautifully said —  ho  can read it
without tenderness?
Smitten friends
Are angels sent on errands full of love;
For us they languish, and for us they die.
And shall they languish, shall they die in vain?
Ungrateful shall we grieve their hovering shades,
Which wait the revolution in our hearts!
Shall we disdain their silent soft address;
Their posthumous advice, and pious prayer;
Senseless as herds which graze their ihallowed graves,
Tread utinder foot their agonies and groans,
Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths?
In many cases this sweet motive to piety has led to
blessed results-no doubt much oftener than is known.
"Several years ago," says a Pastor, "I was called to
attend the funeral of a child five years of age.  She
had sickened and died suddenly. The father I knew
lot, except that he was an infidel.  This child had attended my  Sabbath-school, and she had left behind
some interesting conversation with several members of
the church. This, after the child had died, was communicated to the bereaved mother for her consolation.
At the funeral the mother appeared more deeply interested in the subject of her own salvation than that
of the loss of her child. The next Sabbath this family
283 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
were at my church, and requested prayers that their
afflictions might be sanctified. They continued to attend my church Sabbath after Sabbath, and on the
fifth Sabbath the father became hopefully pious. Soon
after this his wife became pious, and then a sister, and
then a young lady residing in the family; and the
father, mother, sister, and young lady, all, on the same
Sabbath, made a public profession of their faith in the
Lord Jesus Christ.  That father is now a pillar in the
church. This great change in that family was produced instrumentally by the death of that child!"
Following their sainted child into a holy world, they
felt that they were not prepared to meet it there, and
this led to deep and saving penitence.  Thus,
Heaven gives Ius friends to bless the present scene,
Resumes them to prepare us for the next.
There are none on earth so near to us as our children. Yet there are no bereavements that occur more
frequently than these.  Half the human race die in infancy -all grave-yards have more small graves than
large ones. There are few parents, therefore, that have
not wept at little graves -few that have not infants in
heaven!  How tenderly they plead, that, since they
cannot return to us, we should prepare to come to them.
Reader, have you a little white-robed warbler in the
celestial choir? Are you content to see his face no
sore for ever? If you die in your present unregenerate
state, where your child is you can never come!
Those holy gates for ever bar
Pollution, sin and shame;
And none will ever enter there,
But followvers of the Lamb.
284 
IN ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS.
Far from that blessed abode of innocence and love
lies that gloomy land where dwell all the enemies of
God.  Between you and your child "there is a great
gulf fixed." The stroke of death which has separated
you, has separated you for ever, except you become
pious. Ought not the belief in future recognition press
you, in the tender hour of bereavement and sorrow, to
decide at once for Christ and heaven - and for an
eternal reunion with your sainted child? There are
your treasures, there let your heart be also. What you
do, do quickly -eternity is drawing nigh!
V. The doctrine of heavenly recognition is very
consoling to the pious under bereavement.
How often has it been whispered into the ear of
grief! The thought that the separation made by death
between us and our friends is for ever, adds the sting
of despair to the wound of affliction; but the hope of
reunion after life's remaining ills are past, is like healing oil to the wounded heart. Our faith follows them
within the veil, and sees them blest.  Instead of a sad
thought, it is rather a pleasant one.  For,
'T is sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse,
How grows in Paradise our store.
"Is not the bitterness of their death thus removed,
and its sting extracted? Can we not with Job say,
' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; bless.
ed be the name of the Lord?'  Can we not with Aaron
exclaim,'It is the Lord, let him do as seemeth to him
good?' Can we not with David rejoicingly declare,
280' 
HEAVENLY RECOGNITION
'They cannot come to us, but we can go to them?'
Yes, ive can go to them.'They are not lost, but gone
before.' There, in that world of light, and love, andi
joy, they await our coming. There do they beckon us
to ascend.  There do they stand ready to welcome us.
There may we meet them, when a few more suns or
seasons shall have cast their departing shadows upon
our silent grave. Then shall our joy be full and our
sorrows ended, and all tears wiped from our eyes."*
What greater consolation can such have, who have
departed children, than to be able to say in the full
assurance of faith: "I know that my IRedeemer liveth;"
and then, looking heavenward, add the Saviour's words
in reference to their children: " Of such is the kingdom of heaven!"  "We have known," says a Moravian
missionary in Labrador -" We have known what it is
to mourn over the loss of beloved children, having accompanied two to their resting-place during our service
in this distant land. I was once standing by the grave
of my departed children, under a brilliant sun and
cloudless sky, when suddenly a light shadow passed
over the green turf. Looking up for the cause, I beheld a snow-white gull winging her lofty flight through
the air.  The thought immediately struck me -thus it
is with the dear objects of my mournful remembrance.
Itere indeed lies the shadow, but above is the living
principle. Nor was the reflection without comfort to
my wounded spirit, since of such is the kingdom of
heaven."
The thought that many of our friends have gone be
* Smyth.
286 
IN ITS PRACTIC,iL EFFECTS.
It)re us, and that we shall shortly rejoin them in heaven, must be peculiarly aninmating and consoling to us,
at that trying hour wvben we ourselves shall be called
to die. Death will be but going away from friends on
earth to join a greater number in heaven; and, in addition to this, we have also the assurance that even
those ve leave behind will soon follow us. Death, in
that case, will be like going home.   It will be but a
short farewell to those we leave behind, and an eternal
reunion with those who have gone before.  Dying will
be as when one taketh rest in sleep - and oh! what a
blissful waking!
The same reasons which induce us to believe in a
final reunion with our sainted friends, encourage and
warrant us also in the belief that they now remember
us and feel interested in us.  This idea too is full of
consolation!  It is sweet to be remembered by friends
on earth, but how much more so to be assured that we
live in the memory of those who are now saints in light.
Being raised higher, their interest in us must increase
in proportion as they become acquainted with those
heavenly joys wvhich await us also, and which they
already possess.  As they approach towards their perfection, their benevolence and love must increase; and,
when we consider that we think most about our fiien,ls
when we ourselves are most blest, we cannot but believe that they regard us with special concern.  To
have friends in heaven, then, is to have an inheritanco
in which we may well cdelight, and after which we are
sweetly constrained to long.  We, vwho  are heirs of
such celestial treasures, may enter fully into the spirit
of the Poet's holy boasting
'-) -'7 
HiEAVENLY RECOGNITION.
ily boast is not, that I deduce rnv birth
From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth;
But higher far my proud pretensions riseThe son of parents passed into the sides!
Adieu, reader - this is the end! A kind of lovely
loneliness gathers around me, as I am about to lay
down my pen.  Withdraw not your mysterious  presence from me, ye sainted watchers! Ye have been
an hlost around me, that came at the call of faith, in
those loveliest hours of my life, while engaged in setting down the thoughts of this book. Look still on
me through the veil, and let me still feel the calming
influence of your blessed communion. Leave me not
alone! The earth is gloomy and sad from the curse.
It shines but as a cold moon, with a borrowed light.
MIv soul is weary of these storm-swept solitudes outside of holy Eden.  Hail! ye far-off lands of light.
Hail! ye happy dwellers in the peaceful Salem of
purity and love!  "Oh that I had wings like a dove!
for then would I fly away, and be at rest."
What remains eternity will reveal!
THE END.
288