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Nor was this obtained at an easy price. We will not speak now of the toils and hardships by which his lot on earth was marked-of the poverty which awaited him-of the griefs which oppressed him
tion for their guilt: "Father, forgive | by which everlasting good might be his them, for they know not what they do." Such is a faint outline of his character; and say, must not that be a bad man who sees in him nothing to attract his love? Imagine not that you can be neutral here; for not to love the Lord is the plainest proof that you have no of all those temptations common to love to holiness. And if you love not holiness, you are wedded to sin; you are a blot on God's universe, and death must be your doom.
Because, thirdly, want of love to Christ evidences the grossest ingratitude for the greatest of blessings.
Ingratitude has ever been accounted one of the worst of crimes. Men delighting in other sins have always sought to vindicate themselves from this. An ungrateful man is shunned by the good, and despised, even, by the bad. If, therefore, want of love to Christ evinces ingratitude, there is no doubt as to the man's moral condition.
Ingratitude is to be measured by the misery from which one is rescued, or the happiness which is secured, and the sacrifice on the part of another by whom this is accomplished. Each of these particulars shows our debt to the Saviour.
We were lost! We were breakers of the divine law! We were enemies of God! Alas! how much does this involve! That we should hate a holy being and a bountiful benefactor, speaks too plainly the turpitude of our moral nature; that we should have arrayed against us the vengeance of an almighty God, proclaims that we have nothing to look for but unmingled woe. Such were we sinners whose crimes must be atoned for; sinners whose penalty must be paid; sinners helpless, and having no one who could be our helper. Then Christ appeared--left his throne of glory -exposed himself to the threatening penalty of the law-plucked man from the jaws of death, and opened up a way
humanity which beset him. Nor will we speak of the distress which, as a holy being, was inflicted by the ever-present signs of alienation from God, nor of his desertion by his followers in the hour of his greatest need, nor even of the bitter agony of Gethsemane. All this he endured; but see him, having suffered all this, unjustly condemned to an ignominious death. He hangs in agony on the cross. Man, whom he has loved, has rejected his love and procured his death. The hour of nature's struggle and nature's dread is come. Heretofore through life he has found consolation in all his distress from a Father's presence and a Father's love. This favour he has done nothing to forfeit; this favour is his life; but this favour is now withdrawn. He is bearing our sins. He is bearing the anger of his God. He has ever sought God's love. Till now he has ever had it--but now it is withheld. "My God, my God," he cries, "why hast thou forsaken me?" Deserted by man and forsaken by God, he expires in agony on the cross.
Men and brethren, this was for you. Say, what is your desert, what must be your character, if you have no love to Christ?
This is a test of universal application —a test every man must apply for himself. "Lovest thou me ?" is a question Christ asks of each man's conscience now. "Lovest thou me ?" is the question at the last day the Judge of all shall propose. "Lovest thou me ?" No, you do not. You love yourself; you love your families; you love your money; you love your pleasures; you love your
sins; but you have no love to a holy Saviour. There are no charms for you in perfect rectitude; no attractions even in the dying love of one who gave himself for you! Pitiable is your present condition! Fearful is your future doom! Yet once more look to the cross, and find there your Saviour.
Or are there some whose consciences attest that, though often cold, often feeble, often wandering, our affections yet are fixed on Christ ?—that though we have but little delight in holiness, yet we are conscious of hatred to sin? --and though loving little, yet that we long to love more, and are looking forward to the time when, having a better knowledge of our own character, we
shall feel to him a warmer and a more enduring love? Let us, too, apply to ourselves the question, "Lovest thou me?" Then why such fear to acknowledge publicly your obligations? Why so many wanderings? Why so little sacrifice ? "Lovest thou me?" Then seek to advance my cause. Then show your love by loving these my followers. Then act as though you felt that it behoved you to "live not to yourself, but to Him who loved you and gave Himself for you." May it be the case with each, that through the business of life, in the hour of death, and at the last great day, our conscience may declare, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee !"
AN ADDRESS DELIVERED IN THE CEMETERY, ABNEY PARK, OCTOBER 20, 1852,
AT THE INTERMENT OF THE AUTHOR OF THE PRECEDING DISCOURSE,
BY HIS FATHER, THE EDITOR OF THIS MAGAZINE.
who now surrender him at thy summons. Accept the humble adoration of all the weeping relatives and friends, who bow their heads and worship, knowing that all thy ways are just and true, and that all thy determinations are wise and kind. "Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power, for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created." "Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever."
OUR first business on this sorrowful | his future usefulness and honour, but occasion is to render homage to Him by whom the life was originally given that has now been resumed. Clouds and darkness are round about him, but righteousness and judgment are the basis of his throne. Thy counsels are too deep for us to fathom, O Lord God our Creator! but thy character demands implicit and unwavering confidence. Accept the believing acknowledgments of the widow-the chief mourner on this dark and cloudy day-accept her acknowledgments that if it seemed good to thee to take away the desire of her eyes, the object of her warmest earthly love, it was thy unquestionable right to do so, and she is bound to acquiesce. Accept expressions of submission from the parents who nourished him in infancy, who guided his steps in youth, who cherished sanguine expectations of
VOL. XV.-FOURTH SERIES.
And now that the earthly course of him who is taken from us is quite finished, let us give thanks for the goodness and mercy that have followed him all the days of his life. Twenty-eight years has his Creator condescended to watch over him, preserving him from destruction and supplying his wants.
It was unmerited kindness which en- | glorious name." The great purposes of
an earthly existence have in his case been answered. The conflict is over. The course which he had to run is finished. It is not premature to triumph and give thanks.
And what is the state into which he has entered? It is better than that which he has left; "far better." Unable as we are to form exact and definite notions of the condition of a disembodied spirit, of this we are assured by infallible authority, it is a state of consciousness, a state of enjoyment,-a state of increased proximity to Christ,— a state preferable to that of a believer here; "far better." Were the necessities of the church of God on earth to be left out of consideration, and personal happiness alone to guide the choice, then, in the judgment of the apostle Paul, the condition of the departed Christian would be to be chosen
dowed him at first with those powers of body and of mind for which he was distinguished. Opportunities were then graciously afforded for the acquisition of knowledge, and the development of the faculties which he possessed. The sufferings of God's incarnate Son for the redemption of the lost were made known to him, and the plan of salvation drew forth his admiration and gratitude. The risen Saviour became his hope, his joy, his strength. For a time he was permitted to preach to others that gospel which he had himself received. Affectionate attentions soothed him throughout his illness. His sufferings were shortened; and both consciousness and serenity were granted to him till he drew his latest breath. In the immediate prospect of dissolution his language was, I know that I have committed myself to Christ, and that therefore if there is any truth in Chris-in preference to that of a living, active, tianity I am safe." It was mercy that called him into being; it was mercy that directed his course; it was mercy, doubtless, that withdrew him so early from this present evil world. Father of mercies! We bless thee for his existence, and for all that thou hast done for him. "We are the clay, and thou art the potter." Thou madest him a vessel of mercy; thou filledst him with heavenly treasures; and then thou transferredst him to thy holy habitation. Gracious Emmanuel! We bless thee that thou didst redeem him with thine own blood, purchasing him for thyself, taking him into thy service, and enabling him to proclaim to others thy unsearchable riches. Spirit of truth and grace! We bless thee that thou didst renew his heart, enlightening his mind, subduing his rebellious will, implanting in him the love of Christ, making him meet to be partaker of the inheritance among the saints in light. "Now therefore, our God, we thank thee and praise thy
laborious, successful minister of the gospel on the earth ;-he would himself on personal grounds desire " to depart and to be with Christ, which is far better." For "whilst we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord." There is a distance from the Redeemer even in the case of those who enjoy the sweetest intercourse with him that our earthly condition allows, but which is no longer an obstacle to the disembodied spirit; "absent from the body, he is present with the Lord." Absent from the body!-the body which is frequently the seat of pain and cause of disturbance to the mind-the body which is sometimes a clog and a weight on the spirit, impeding its efforts and refusing to carry out its purposes-the body which even in health requires care, and occasions anxieties-the body which often predisposes to sinful emotions and acts
the body which is the medium of communication with that world the love of which is a snare, and with all that
is in that world;-"absent from the body," yet not alone in gloomy solitude, but "present with the Lord." With the Lord! the gracious benefactor who sacrificed himself for our salvation-the Lord, in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily-the Lord, whom having not seen we love, in whom though as yet we see him not, yet believing we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory! Lord Jesus, hast thou received his spirit? Is he now with thee in some sense in which he was not with thee before? Then is it well with him, for thy presence constitutes fulness of joy. Lord Jesus, we give thee thanks on his behalf! Thou hast consummated thy purposes of love; he is with thee where thou art, and he beholds thy glory!
Thus then we leave him, unseen by mortal eyes, but in the enjoyment of spiritual pleasures suited to his incorporeal state, till the time shall come for the redemption of the body.
shall the silence of the grave be broken by the voice of the Son of God, and he shall come forth to the resurrection of life. Then shall he appear with renewed readiness for high and holy services, every token of weakness and lassitude having passed away, his body fashioned like unto Christ's glorious body. The corruptible shall have put on incorruption. The mortal shall have put on immortality. Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory!" O Death, where is thy sting O Grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, which Christ was manifested to take away; the strength of sin is the law, the demands of which Christ has satisfied by the endurance of its penalty and the obedience of his life. "Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" Returning then without him to our habitations, pensive but not unhappy,
let us call to mind our own circumstances, and hearken to the voice of our heavenly Father, who has said to us in his providence, " Cease ye from man whose breath is in his nostrils, for wherein is he to be accounted of?" If a father might have been proud of his son, rejoicing in the prospect of his cooperation with him in his declining years, and of his afterwards carrying forward the same plans and enterprises with superior ability ;—if a wife might have rested on the arm of her husband, forgetting that sin has made all human strength but weakness, and all human excellence but vanity;-if sisters and brothers might have said of one of their number, "To him may we turn with confidence for counsel and aid when our parents die ;"-if intimate acquaintance might have thought that an earthly friend judiciously selected could satisfy the demands of the present dependent state ;-then, reliance on him who has been taken from us might have been lawful and wise. But his knees became weak, and his flesh wasted. He was but a shadow, and it has disappeared.
"Mark the field flower, where it groweth,
Frail and beautiful ;-anon,
Such is man ;-his honours pass,
A few months ago, he was sitting in the place in which you his relatives are now sitting, having come to deposit a miniature likeness of himself in that portion of the cemetery in which we are now about to deposit his remains. Sweet babe! she was a beautiful specimen of God's creative power, and it grieved her father's heart to part with her; but she was mercifully saved from the pains and perils of orphanage. There, however, he sat; and this fact may remind you whatever your hands find to do, to do it with your might, as there is no work, nor device, nor know
ledge, nor wisdom in the grave to which we are hastening. What amount of good has resulted from his efforts to serve Christ during his brief course it is impossible to ascertain, but we know that usefulness was his habitual aim. As soon as he was baptized he set himself, with characteristic energy, in conjunction with his pastor,* to establish a sabbath-school in a neglected portion of the metropolis, and there he began to preach Christ's gospel. That gospel he afterwards preached in different parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland; and the results can never be fully known till the Lord come, who shall bring to light all hidden things, manifest the counsels of all hearts, and award to every one of his servants the due proportion of praise.
But let us not forget those trials and dangers by which we are still surrounded, but from which he has escaped. For a moment let us think of ourselves. We are still exposed to the artifices of invisible but malignant foes. We are
still liable to persecution, to famine, to nakedness, to peril, to sword. We know not what times may pass over us, or what tempests may burst upon our heads. We know not in what form or under what circumstances death may present itself before us. Saviour of the departed, be thou our Saviour! Thou hast been raised from the dead, and thou wilt die no more. Death hath no more dominion over thee. Thou art able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by thee, seeing thou ever livest to make intercession for them. Almighty Jesus! guide us, succour us, purify us, sanctify us wholly. Be with us in all the vicissitudes of life. When flesh and heart shall fail, sustain and cheer us. Then receive us to thine arms, and in the day of open and final decision, give us our part with them who have known and trusted thee, that we may rejoice in the light of thy countenance and receive communications of thy love throughout eternity.
TWO ROMAN CATHOLIC LADIES OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
SARAH and Elizabeth (or, as she was generally called, Bessie) A- --n were the daughters of a Scottish protestant, who had married a lady of Irish descent, a member of the church of Rome. Elizabeth was born in 1813, her sister was seven years older. Their father dying when they were yet young, they were educated by their mother in her own religion, although their elder brothers were brought up as protestants. Their mother was a very rigid and devoted adherent of the church of Rome. Her religion being sincere, was tinctured with asceticism, as is so generally the case with those of her church in whom
The Rev. William Miall of Shoreditch.
any sincerity or earnestness is to be found. She had devoted Bessie from the cradle to be a nun, and, consequently, had adopted a peculiar mode of education to prepare her for a convent life. From infancy she was accustomed to observe the fasts of the Romish church most scrupulously, and with the utmost rigour. On ordinary fast-days she only partook of one meal, which consisted of a few plain potatoes and salt. On particular occasions she was not even allowed that scanty meal until a late hour. Her hunger was once so pressing, that she ate some raw potatoes, which she found in the garden. Her whole education was one long noviciate for a conventual life; accordingly, she was