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 eternal reunion with your sainted child? your treasures, there let your heart be also. do, do quickly — eternity is drawing nigh! and for an There are What you 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, 'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose "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, 6 'They cannot come to us, but we can go to them?' Yes, we can go to them. They are not lost, but gone before.' There, in that world of light, and love, and 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 Redeemer 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 is with the dear objects of my mournful remembrance. Here 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." thus it The thought that many of our friends have gone be * Smyth. fore us, and that we shall shortly rejoin them in heaven, must be peculiarly animating and consoling to us, at that trying hour when 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 we 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 which 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 friends 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 inheritance. in which we may well delight, and after which we are sweetly constrained to long. We, who are heirs of such celestial treasures, may enter fully into the spirit of the Poet's holy boasting My boast is not, that I deduce my birth 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 host 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. My 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. |