soul remains unchanged; and whatever the soul may be, at the moment of the death of the body, such it will certainly be, also, at the commencement of that part of its immortality which begins at death; and the reason of this is evident, for the present life is not wholly unconnected with the future; it is only the preparation for, or the introduction to the future. As the spring is but the introduction to the summer, or the summer to the autumn-as our infancy is but the introduction to our childhood, childhood to manhood, and manhood to age, so is the whole of our present life in this world—the spring of an eternal year, the infancy of an eternal existence, the introduction to an endless and unchangeable state of being. Let us now imagine that the hour has arrived in which the body must die, and the spirit return to its God-and let us select the case of an humble and sincere Christian, in whom the pains of his last sickness have not destroyed the powers of his recollection and reason; and let us inquire what would be, and what we know by experience generally are, the reflections of the dying man at his last hour. Some things, which he perhaps thought to be of the utmost moment in the days of health, will certainly then appear to be as the dust upon the balance. Adversity and prosperity, wealth and fame, the charms of social intercourse, and the anticipations of hope, all, all of these are less than nothing, and vanity, to the dying Christian. But there are three subjects of solemn, serious,

deep, consideration to every human being, whether he lives or dies, and to these three subjects the immortal spirit will turn, both at the moment of death, and at the commencement of its new mode of existence. They are these-the God to whom the spirit is going the soul which is to be saved, or lostand the kindred, and the family which shall follow him to the grave. Reflections on these three subjects cannot be separated from the soul, whether the body lives, or dies; and the manner in which they are considered constitutes the happiness or misery of every dying person.-And first the dying Christian will turn to his God. He will remember the mercy which led him through life, the Providence which guided him, the redemption which was revealed to him, the atonement which the blessed Son of God has accomplished for him, that great and wonderful atonement, which is the only solid foundation of our hope of pardon, both in life and death.--The second point to which the dying Christian will turn, is the state of his soul, and its preparation for Heaven. He will remember the sins of which he has, through Divine grace, been led to make a timely repentance; and the ingratitude which he humbly trusts his God has forgiven. He will rejoice in the hope of the approaching glory.-When the thoughts of the dying Christian have thus been directed to the mercy of God, and the salvation of the soul; he will then unavoidably turn to the bonds of affection, the claims of kindred, the union of family

and friends. The dying mother will think of the surviving child. The dying child will think of the surviving mother. The same powers of memory which compel them to think of God, and of their salvation, compel them to think of their kindred,and the happiness which they may derive from reflecting on the two former of these subjects, is so intimately connected with the prospect of the re-union of spirits in the future state; that the very comfort which is derived from their religion appears to be imperfect, unless it is shared by the kindred, and the children whom they love. Such then are the reflections which rightly and justly occupy the mind at the close of life-they are, reflections on God, on the soul, on our kindred.While these reflections engage the mind, the body dies, and the immortal soul appears before God. Whatever be the scenes which break upon the spirit of man, at that moment, the faculties of the soul are the same; and therefore the remembrance of God is the same, the remembrance of his past life is the same, and therefore the remembrance of his kindred is the same. The happiness which begins in heaven, whatever be the additions which eternity may make to it, will be partly derived from our gratitude to God, partly from the joy of our salvation, and, as we must remember our kindred, partly also from the confident expectation that where the ransomed Christian is, thither his kindred and his offspring shall follow. The desire of the glorified spirit in heaven, at the com

mencement of its immortality, will be the same with that of the dying Christian upon earth at the moment of his death-the desire that the parent may be again united to the child, and the child to the parent. And because the happiness which God has promised to us in the future state, is the most perfect we can enjoy, we may justly conclude, that this desire of the heart, which alone can render that happiness perfect, will be granted to the Christian who dies in the faith of his Redeemer; and the union, therefore, of Christian families, which begins, upon earth, will be completed, as the one great consummation of the happiness of them all, in their perpetual re-union in the world of spirits.

Thus does it appear that the very same arguments by which we might prove the immortality of the soul, from the consideration of its own nature, seem to prove also the probability of our knowledge of each other in a future state. Let us now turn to those arguments which are afforded us by the pages of Revelation, in which this doctrine, like those of the being of God, and the immortality of the soul, appears to be taken for granted.

One of the most decisive proofs appears in the passage which I have now selected. On referring to the chapter you will read, that it pleased God to afflict with sickness the infant son of the king of Israel. The agonized father entreated of the Almighty, with strong supplications, and weeping

and mourning, that life might be granted to his beloved child. But the sentence had been pronounced, and the child died. Now it was the custom among the people of Israel to lament their dead with long mourning, and in deep retirement. No sooner, however, did David perceive by the conduct of his servants that his child was dead, than he departed from the prevailing custom-he restrained his tears-he conquered the natural grief which every affectionate parent will unavoidably feel for the painful consequences of the death of the body, and he taught us in what manner a believer in revelation should submit to domestic affliction. He went up to the house of God, and joined in the public worship. This conduct, however wise and noble, because it was unusual, astonished his household; and they requested him to explain the motives of this behaviour. Then it was, that the memorable reply was given which I have now read to you; While the child was yet alive, I fasted and wept. I implored the Almighty

to spare his beloved life, that I might enjoy the society of my child while my own days were prolonged-and then that the son should bury the parent, and not that the parent should weep over the grave of the son. But now that my prayer has not been granted, it only remains for me to put away my grief, and to look forward to that day, when the soul of the parent shall be again united to the soul of his child, when all the families of the earth, which have been separated for a