holy, thus clothing
ourselves to go and dwell with it? Does it, by its death, accomplish all
this? O! most important, most glorious mission of all, if we only heed
it, if we only accept it. Then shall we behold already the wisdom and
benevolence of our Father breaking through the cloud that overshadows
us. Already shall we see that the tie, which seemed to be dropped and
broken, God has taken up to draw us closer to himself, and that it
is interwoven with his all-gracious plan for our spiritual profit and
perfection. And we can anticipate how it will all be reconciled, when
his own hand shall wipe away our tears, and the bliss of reunion shall
extract the last drop of bitterness from "the cup that our Father had
given us."

OUR RELATIONS TO THE DEPARTED

"She is not dead, but sleepeth." Luke viii.52

A Great peculiarity of the Christian religion is its transforming
or transmuting power. I speak not now of the regeneration which
accomplishes in the individual soul, but of the change it works upon
things without. It applies the touchstone to every fact of existence,
and exposes its real value. Looking through the lens of spiritual
observation, it throws the realities of life into a reverse perspective
from that which is seen by the sensual eye. Objects which the world
calls great it renders insignificant, and makes near and prominent
things which the frivolous put off. Thus the Christian, among other men,
often appears anomalous. Often, amidst the congratulations of the world,
he detects reason for mourning, and is penetrated with sorrow. On the
contrary, where others shrink, he walks undaunted, and converts the
scene of dread and suffering into an ante-chamber of heaven. In this
light, the Apostle Paul speaks of himself and others, "As sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and
yet possessing all things." Indeed, all the beatitudes are based upon
this peculiarity; for the true blessing, the inward, everlasting riches,
are for those who, in the world's eye, are poor, and mourning, and
persecuted. Jesus himself weeps amid triumphant psalms and sounding
hosannas, while on the cross he utters the prayer of forgiveness, and
the ejaculation of peace.

No wonder, then, that the believer views the ghastliest fact of all in
a consoling and even a beautiful aspect; and death itself becomes but
sleep. Well was that trait of our religion which I have now suggested
illus