gle persons of every age and character, of every rank and condition in life; the young and the old, the poor and the rich, the gay and the grave, the renowned and the ignoble. A few weeks ago, most of those whom we have seen carried to the grave, walked about as we do now on the earth; enjoyed their friends, beheld the light of the sun, and were forming designs for future days. Perhaps, it is not long since they were engaged in scenes of high festivity. For them, perhaps, the cheerful company assembled; and in the midst. of the circle they shone with gay and pleasing vivacity. But now-to them, all is finally closed. To them no more shall the seasons return, or the sun rise. No more shall they hear the voice of mirth, or behold the face of man. They are swept from the universe, as though they had never been. They are carried away as with a flood: the wind has passed over them, and they are gone. A tomb, it has been justly said, is a monument situated on the confines of both worlds. It, at once, presents to us the termi nation of the inquietudes of life, and sets be fore us the image of eternal rest. Death only occasions a temporary separa. tion from our friends, they whom we have loved, still live, though not present to us. They are only removed into a different mansion in the house of our common father. Death bed repentance is at best precarious and uncertain; one was saved at the last hour, that none might despair; and but one, that none might presume. O Eternity! Eternity! How are our boldest, our strongest thoughts, lost and overwhelmed in thee! who can set land marks to limit thy dimensions; or find plummets to fathom thy depths? Arithmeticians have figures to compute all the progressions of time, astronomers have instruments to calculate the distances of the planets. But what numbers can state, what lines can gauge, the lengths and breadths of eternity? Mysterious, mighty existence! A sum not to be lessened by the largest deductions! An extent not to be contracted, by all possible diminutions! None can truly say after the most prodigious waste of ages," So much of eternity is gone," for when millions of centuries are elapsed, it is but just commencing; and when millions more have run their ample round, it will be no nearer ending. Yea when ages numerous as the bloom of spring, increased by the herbage of summer, both augmented by the leaves of autumn, and all multiplied by the drops of rain which drown the winter-when these, and ten thousand times ten thousand more-more than can be represented by any similitude, or imagined by any conception-when all these are revolved and finished, eternity, vast, boundless, amazing eternity, will only be beginning! HEAVEN AND HELL. HEAVEN LEAVEN is the christian's home, and abiding place for ever-an inheritance to which none are entitled but the virtuous and good, it admits of no defilement, it is a state incorruptible in its nature, and eternal in its duration! In heaven the good man ceases from the means of grace, enjoys a perfect freedom from all evils, attains the highest degree of personal perfection, and the nearest enjoyment of God, the chief good. The heavenly Jerusalem is a purchased possession, and the freedom of this city, granted to Done but the excellent of the earth. The society of heaven is an association of angels and the spirits of just men made perfect; a corporation of perfected saints, whereof Christ is the head. Hell is the place of punishment, appointed for the wicked and ungodly, the dreary abode of everlasting woe and wretchedness; where hope and mercy are excluded for ever: where the worm never dies and the fire is never 'quenched-numbers cannot compute its duration, nor language describe its misery. Were an angel employed to describe the glory of heaven, he could not accomplish his task in an age. How impressive is the language of inspira tion, "Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, what God hath prepared for them that love him" the eye may have seen a great deal, the ear may have heard of more than the eye hath seen, and fancy may |