WE are assembled on an occasion of no ordinary interest. Mortality, through the whole of its vast range, has not of late, furnished a more affecting monument, than that which we are now invited, urged, and, indeed, compelled, to contemplate. May God inspire us with appropriate feelings! A voice from the sepulchre, and from heaven, bespeaks profound attention, and, in accordance with it, several impressive views, opening before a reflecting mind, call for deep solemnity, prostrate submission, tender condolence, warm congratulations, and fervent prayer. Many more things are recommended by that interesting, sublime, and pathetic voice-especially a renewed concern for our own and others' spiritual safety and welfare. If these be duly cherished, the gifted and estimable friend, who lived not in vain, will not have died in vain; but we shall, one after another, be prompted, at least in a personal reference, to say-though weeping-"I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel."

Assuredly such is the holy and merciful design of God in the stroke so recently inflicted here. Oh, that it may be accomplished, in respect to us, to you all, my esteemed hearers, and to the cause of God in general!

As the result of that stroke, a task has devolved on me, honourable indeed, but far too arduous for my mental strength, on which it presses. I speak not this from false humility, or with the mean and worthless hope of securing a courteous contradiction; I speak as a man claiming no superior eminent talents, or Christian worth, is bound to speak. The fact is, I could not, without making an ungracious sacrifice, turn away from a request preferred by the bereaved family, and supported by the representatives of the bereaved congregation. In addition to this circumstance, looking back more than six and forty years, I cannot lightly reverence, as his fellow pupil, what our departed friend was in the sanctuary, and in the seminary, even at that early period of his splendid course. Nor can I advert without emotion to a subsequent period, during which it was my lot to occupy, with an incompetency quite humiliating, the very same department of· labour and responsibility. It may also be added that the distinguished individual, whose removal we deplore, never failed to indulge me with a prompt and most cordial reception.

By these and similar considerations, my reluctance on other grounds to appear officially before you this morning has been, though not altogether destroyed, yet materially diminished. Instead,

therefore, of dwelling on conscious inability, I will proceed in the present service, assured that you will exercise candour, and be anxious to enjoy the divine approval and blessing. As to the portraiture which it were unavailing to require of me, I would not easily resign the hope that it will be delineated by the pencil of some accomplished master. There is an ambition which is not only lawful, but is encouraged by that sacred Spirit, who at the same time, would have us to recollect these words: "Be clothed with humility; for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble."

Fain would I, particularly at this interesting hour, be inspired with an ambition to do good: and, if that heaven-born principle predominate within me, then shall I accost my fellow mourners in a right spirit; and He, who alone can infuse it, will, I doubt not, prosper my effort, and so award me a prize, in comparison with which the plaudits earned by literature, philosophy, and eloquence, are but as sounding brass and as a tinkling cymbal. Alas! those plaudits are always dangerous, and often fatal..

Death-preceded by intense pain, the silent, solitary, perhaps needful, monitor of the deceased, with slight intermissions, from his youth to more than mature agedeath has at length been commissioned to despoil your circle, my brethren, of a costly victim, who sunk under the blows of that ruthless assailant, whose flesh has in consequence seen corruption, and whose form we shall never, while sojourning here, behold again.

If a man die, shall he live again? shall he not utterly perish, and become an eternal desolation? What a relief must it be to entertain an opposite view of the case-to feel assured that this wreck, so far from being total and irremediable, can, in no degree involve, as it regards a servant of God, the unspeakably more glorious part of his compound and marvellous nature which we denominate the soul. The relief would in anticipation, be complete had we equal authority to believe that the body also shall live again, and share with the soul its felicitous immortality. He who

avows indifference to such a prospect must surely be pronounced either a hypocrite, an idiot, or a monster. Yet, in this field of inquiry, where may we expect to reap satisfaction? Pagans have toiled here with laudable diligence and solicitude, being scarcely less anxious to kindle a few sparks of hope into a bright and steady flame than our modern sons of darkness are to witness and promote their extinction. How superior in the contrast do we necessarily account a Socrates, a Plato, a Cicero, and a Seneca! Still these sages could only reason well. They ascended not above the regions of happy conjecture and high probability. All the certainty of our existence in another world must be gathered not from argument, but from information; and that information none, except "the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity," can impart. He, however, in language more or less full and distinct, has spoken of invisible and lasting realities. In making a transition especially from the Old Testament to the New, the subject is exhibited with so much additional clearness that—as if all the previous discoveries had been mere varieties of shadewe are taught by an apostle to say, “Life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel."

The great question, "If a man die, shall he live again?" may, I trust, be now numbered among questions which have received a satisfactory answer. Such an admission is sure to be made by all who consider the Bible to be a communication from the supreme Being:-with others, I enter this day into no discussion.

It remains for me to illustrate the words first read, and then to remind you afresh, and more specifically, of the dispensation which has brought hither so immense a multitude, and will elsewhere rivet the sadder minds of so many affectionate hearers. "All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come.' So spake Job, a man whose excellency and affection were alike proverbial. He spake as it becomes us to speak. Let us, with the evangelical economy before our eyes, expatiate on his determination, and adopt it too.

What, then, is the nature, and what the due influence, my fellow Christians, of our prospect as thus referred to? "All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come."

I. We have THE PROSPECT OF A

CHANGE.

Many changes are incidental to human beings, but there are three which stand out with prominence above the rest.

One extraordinary change occurs when human beings become rational. During infancy they are conscious of sensation, but unconscious of reflection. Hence, at that period, they say nothing-they learn nothing; they neither hear nor transgress any commandment; they are not in a state of probation. Gradually, however, and in a manner which entirely eludes our notice, the thinking faculty, and all the passions, develope themselves. Children listen to sounds, articulate, and converse. Young persons read, write, and learn a language or an art. A little afterwards they go into business; they provide for their families; some being condemned to the meanest drudgery, and some, like him whom you once delighted to call your minister, shining in the annals of fame, the admiration of the age and the country which they contributed to adorn. Let it not be forgotten, my hearers, that, as reason strengthens, all persons become more and more amenable both to God and

to man.

A change more momentous occurs when human beings become religious. This change is requisite for those, universally, who have not already experienced it. Its necessity arises from the hereditary contagion which corrupts the race and taints us all-whether we have rendered ourselves obnoxious to our acquaintances, or have conciliated their good will and affection-whether we have been profligate or moral-whether we have neglected sacred ordinances or outwardly observed them. We are assured, by an inspired writer, that "if any man be in Christ Jesus he is a new creature; old things are passed away and behold all things have become new." What says Christ himself?"6 Except a man be born again he cannot see the VOL. I.-17

kingdom of God." How sharp the conflicts, and pungent the sorrows-how rich and diffusive the heavenly light-how importunate the supplications-how strong the purposes-how rich the comfortshow warm the gratitude-how exemplary the whole character, when, under the regenerating agency of the Holy Ghost, fallen creatures justly reckon themselves to be "dead, indeed, unto sin, but alive unto God, through our Lord Jesus Christ:" "being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever!"

After all, the great consummation is reserved for the time when human beings become immortal-the subjects of a change of which the being made first rational, and then religious, are but the indispensable preparatories. "This corruption (my Christian brethren) must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." Then will the term of our minority expire, and we shall receive our best inheritance. Then shall we go to another world, and have joyful communion with exalted spirits, thus far invisible.

The garden of Eden never offered such beauty to the eye, such music to the ear, or such fruit to the taste, as will delight the inhabitants of those more glorious regions. They are "before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more: neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." They who ascend from the earth, thither, are transformed as well as translated. No residue of sin cleaves to them in their wonders of delight. Hence it is written,