Rather than we should perish forever, "Christ laid down His life a ransom for many. This furnishes us with a view of the desperate state of mankind before Christ did so. But for Him, who took upon himself the burden of our exceedingly great sins, we would have been lost to all eternity. But for His infinite love which induced Him to have our entire chastisement put upon Him, we would have been crushed under the heavy weight of our accumulated transgressions. Though sin has so far affected us with disease, that our whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint; from the sole of the foot even unto the head, there is no soundness in us, but wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores; yet, by reason of His contusions we were healed; for, "in Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.

* Ephesians i. 7.

[TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT NUMBER.]

ART. III. THE TEACHINGS OF THE DEAD.

Obituary of Mrs. ELIZA LELAND, consort of Rev. A. W. LELAND, D.D., Professor of Theology in the Seminary at Columbia, S. C., and epitaphs from the burial place. Charleston: Steam press of Walker, Evans & Co., No. 3, Broad street. 1857. Printed but not published.

Circular letter of the bereaved consort, in reply to letters of condolence, on occasion of the death of Mrs. LELAND. Printed but not published.

In Memoriam, obituary notices of Mrs. SARAH E. ADGER.

The clay that is moistened sends back no sound. Yes, Death is silent to the ear, but it ever speaketh to the heart.

HERVEY GILES.

The good and the true,

Never die never die;

Though gone they are here
Ever nigh-ever nigh.

There is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song; there is a remembrance of the dead, to which we turn even from the charms of the Living. These we would not exchange for the song of pleasure or the bursts of revelry.

Thou art not lost,-thy spirit giveth
Immortal peace, and high it liveth!
Thou art not mute-with angels blending,
Thy voice to me is still descending.

Thou art not absent,-sweetly smiling,
I see thee yet. my griefs beguiling!
Soft o'er my slumbers art thou beaming,
The sunny spirit of my dreaming.

Thine eyelids seem not yet concealing,
In death, their orbs of matchless feeling;
Their living charms my heart still numbers,
Ah! sure they do but veil thy slumbers.

As kind thou art; for still thou'rt meeting
The breast which gives the tender greeting!
And shall I deem thee altered ?- Never!
Thou'rt with me waking-dreaming-ever!

THE SPEAKING DEAD.

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW.

When the hours of day are numbered,
And the voices of the night
Wake the better soul that lumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true hearted
Come to visit me once more:

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the being beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep,
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me,

With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars so still and saint like,
Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer;
Soft rebukes in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.

O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,

If I but remember only

Such as these have lived and died.

CHRISTIANITY is distinguished from all other forms of religion in all that is essential both to the well being of the life that now is and of that also which is to come. But in nothing, perhaps is this contrast more striking than the aspect in which it regards sorrow, bereavement and death. These constitute the mystery of life, and the mastery of all human wisdom and philosophy; hovering over humanity in fearful darkness; terrifying us by the loud and incessant crashes of their thunder; and ever and anon bursting in storms of devastating fury. And as all other religions have stood aghast, mute and motionless before such appalling phenomena, Christianity demonstrates its inspiration and divinity by at once resolving the mystery, and imparting peace and consolation to the troubled spirit.

The earth, as Christianity teaches us, is now enveloped in a murky atmosphere of cloud and sunshine with its ever varying lights and shadows, as emblematic of the blighting curse of sin of which all sorrow is the shadow and all death the penalty. The present dispensation and government of the world is therefore, Christianity

teaches us, temporary and not final, partial and not complete, preparatory and not perfect, probationary and not retributive. It is purely a disciplinary dispensation, where everything is made to work together so as to form, develope, and mature character, whether evil or good, in view of a state, and life, and world, everlasting. The race of man is not now in its pristine and perfect condition. The earth is not what it first was. The relations between God and man are not those of a father infinitely wise and benevolent rejoicing over his children in whom He sees everything good. Men are now fallen, sinful, guilty, imperfect and helpless creatures; and God is now revealed, as having in Christ, devised a scheme of infinite mercy, whereby He is reconciling sinners unto Himself, reinstating them in holiness, and fitting and preparing them for full and final happiness in His heavenly kingdom.

All events are therefore subordinated to this gracious purpose, and to be interpreted by this light. And is it not a blessed light? Does it not at once dissipate all darkness, bring order out of confusion, impart joy to sorrow, hope to despair, life in death, and brighten every cloud of grief with a tinge of heavenly wisdom and unspeakable tenderness. Sickness and sorrow now become handmaids to virtue; tutors and governors training and educating immortal minds for the maturity of perfect men in Christ Jesus. Death is not an end. It is only a transition, a stage in our journey, a step on the onward march to immortality, a halt in the pilgrimage through the desert on our way to the heavenly Canaan, a passage over the Jordan, or a transformation out of this earth-worm, chrysalis condition, to the seraph-winged beauty of a spiritual and angelic nature.

All other religions have considered death as an end, a cessation of existence, an awful catastrophe, the annihilation of the body, and the vanishing of the soul into thin air-to roam in dreary sadness through the gloomy shades and by the turbid waters of some unknown region of the dead.

Moschus sung thus mournfully:

"Ah, Mallows in the garden die,
Parsley, and blooming Dill,

Yet waken'd by the vernal sky
Again their course fulfill.

While we, the wise, the strong, the brave,

Have no fresh spring in store;

But silent in the hollow grave

Sleep on for evermore."

Homer is not less plaintive:

"Men fade like leaves" that drop away

Beneath the parent shade,

Others again succeed, but they
Are in oblivion laid.

So spake the sire of Grecian song ;—
Through each succeeding age

The words are caught and borne along
By poet, saint, and sage.

"Better" said Achilles,

"be slaves on earth

Of some poor hind than king of all the dead."

So doth man's sinful nature deem
With ill-foreboding gloom,
And strays as in a fearful dream
In realms beyond the tomb.

For want, disgrace, and servitude

Seem nothing in that hour,

When Death's huge pinions o'er us brood,

We feel his chilling power.

Christianity alone has brought man's immortality to light, revealed and illustrated it, and endeared it to us by bright and beautiful descriptions of it. Christianity alone, has demonstrated that death is a portion, not the end of life; a change, not the destruction of the earthly house of this tabernacle; a development, not a decay of strength and beauty; or to employ its own peculiar and exquisitely attractive representation, a sleep from which the weary and troubled spirit shall awake refreshed and invigorated, rejoicing in the clear dawning of a celestial day.

All other religions also consecrated pride, passion, stoical indifference, insensibility to grief and pain, and forgetfulness of the dead. It was only thus they could, in any measure, escape from the power of these evils, and blunt the point of their severity. And hence, while ordinarily, they carefully concealed and ignored their existence, we find that on occasions of social festivity, they were wont to introduce them in their ugliest form of representation, in order that by the combined hilarity and excitement of the company, they might triumph over their awful power, and make them subservient to their greater excess of riot.

"Religion showed her head from realms above,
Threatening mankind with visage horrible."

'Twas thus that clad in storms of yore
She spread her awful mein,

And in dread lightenings ope'd the door
Of the eternal scene.