ing. The first is a separation of
the soul from God; the second, that of the body from the soul; and the
last, that of the unbelieving man, body and soul, from God forever.

It will be seen that there is one characteristic which is common to all
three kinds--that is, separation; and that there is no idea of
finality--death is not the end. When the Lord God created man, we
suppose that He made him not merely in the form of a body, but a man
with body and soul complete; and afterwards that He breathed into this
living man the Spirit, and he became a living soul. As such, he communed
with the eternal God, who is a Spirit. In this spiritual state he could
walk and converse with God in the garden of Eden. When, however, he
disobeyed the command which had been given to him, he incurred the
tremendous penalty. The Lord God had said, "In the day that you eat of
the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, you shall surely die." He
did eat, and he died there and then; that is, he forfeited that 'Spirit
which had quickened his soul, and thus became a dead soul; though, as we
know, he remained a living man for nine hundred years before his body
returned to its dust.

By his one act of disobedience, Adam opened in an instant (as an
earthquake opens a deep chasm) the great gulf, the impassable gulf of
separation which is fixed between us and God. By nature, as the children
of Adam, we are all on the side which is away from God; and we are
become subject also to the sentence pronounced against the life of the
body. We know and understand that we are mortal, and that it is
appointed unto men once to die; but we do not seem to be aware of the
more important fact of the death of our souls. Satan, who said to our
first parents, "Ye shall not surely die," employs himself now in
deceiving men by saying, "Ye are not dead;" and multitudes believe him,
and take it for granted that it is actually true. Thus they go on
unconcerned about this awful and stupendous reality.

CHAPTER 2

Religious Life.

With returning health and strength, I did not think of going back into
the world, but rather gave myself more fully to the purpose for which I
supposed that my life had been restored. I felt a thankfulness and joy
in my recovery, which confirmed me more and more in my determination to
live to the glory of God.

When I was able to return to the South, I did so by easy stages till I
got back to the neighbourhood of London; and there it was o