Review and Herald, Vol. 26, No. 26. (11/28/1865)

Review and Herald

Nov 28, 1865

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 28, 1865

Recognition of Friends in Heaven.

The following article, from the Ladies' Repository, will be interesting to every person who hopes for a place in the kingdom of Heaven. It is the doctrine of "personal recognition," which so sweetens our cup of sorrow, when dear friends are reft from our embrace by the relentless hand of death. But were there no such recognitions, Heaven would lose for us one of its chiefest attractions. No doctrine is better attested by both Scripture and reason than this; and for the comfort of the waiting ones who soon expect "TO SEE AS THEY ARE SEEN, AND KNOW AS THEY ARE KNOWN," the following selection finds a place in the Review.

"The warmest love on earth is still Imperfect when 't is given; But there 's a purer clime above, Where perfect hearts in perfect love Unite; and this—is Heaven."

Few themes connected with the great hereafter so deeply concern the heart, as the question of personal recognition among the redeemed. We have carefully and tearfully laid their bodies in the grave to slumber till the great awakening morning. We shall see them no more in the land of the living. And if we are never to know them in the future state, this separation—sad as may be the thought—is eternal. The hour that carries them down to the grave is the hour of final separation. If there is no personal recognition in Heaven; if we shall neither see nor know our friends there, so far as we are concerned they are annihilated, and Heaven has no genuine antidote for the soul's agony in the hour of bereavement.

The anxiety of the soul with regard to the personal recognitions of the future state, is natural. It springs from the holiest sympathies of the human heart. And any inquiry that may solve our doubts or relieve our anxiety is equally rational and commendable.

We shall proceed, then, to argue the fact of personal recognition among the redeemed in Heaven, and shall present considerations which, in their aggregate force, are absolutely conclusive of the subject.

I. REASON DEMANDS IT.

What we mean to assert here is, that the doctrine of personal recognition in the future state has a basis in nature and in reason.

The yearning of the heart for the departed must remain forever unsatisfied without it. Our loved dead are still linked to us, not only by the cords of memory, but the ties of affection. The monuments carved to their memory, the flowers that blossom above their sleeping dust, and the tears that bedew their graves, are so many living testimonials of our undying affection for them, and the yearning of the heart for a reunion with them. "She goeth unto the grave to weep there," is the record, not merely of Mary, but of the heart-yearning of humanity in all ages. This human feeling finds its consummation only in a recognized personal reunion in Heaven. The soul craves the assurance of this reunion, and in response to that craving, our funeral hymns take up the blessed strain and whisper it to our hope in sweetest melody. In the faith of it the farewells of the dying chamber are touched with a deeper pathos, and made expressive of a sublimer joy. "Good-by, papa, good-by! we'll all meet again in the morning!" Such was the language of a dying child as the night-shades of death closed around him. Yes, thanks be to God, we'll all meet again in the morning! How the thought thrills the heart! Have our brethren in Christ, with whom we have taken sweet counsel in the day of our pilgrimage, left us to finish the journey weary and alone? It cheers us by the way to know that "we'll all meet again in the morning." Bereaved parent, how often is thy yearning heart filled with a holy calmness as angelic whisperings, wafted from the far-off land, come unto thee, saying, "We'll all meet again in the morning!"

"O, wild is the tempest and dark is the night, But soon will the daybreak be dawning; Then the friendships of yore Shall blossom once more, 'And we'll all meet again in the morning!'"

The communion of the saints in Heaven is impossible without personal recognition. The communion of the saints of God on earth is one of the richest sources of comfort, as well as one of the most effective means of spiritual nurture in the Church militant. And we are led to look forward to it as one of the grand consummations of the heavenly state. "If the mere conception," says Robert Hall, "of the reunion of good men in a future state, infused a momentary rapture into the mind of Tully; if an airy speculation, for there is reason to fear it had little hold on his convictions, could inspire him with such delight, what may we be expected to feel, who are assured of such an event by the true sayings of God! How should we rejoice in the prospect, the certainty rather, of spending a blissful eternity with those whom we loved on earth; of seeing them emerge from the tomb, and the deeper ruins of the fall, not only uninjured, but refined and perfected, with every tear wiped from their eyes, standing before the throne of God and the Lamb, in white robes, and palms in their hands, crying with a loud voice, Salvation to God who sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, forever and ever! What delight will it afford to renew the sweet counsel we have taken together, to recount the toils of combat, and to approach not the house, but to the throne of God, in company, in order to join in the symphonies of heavenly voices, and lose ourselves among the splendors and fruitions of the beatific vision!"

But how would it dampen the ardor of our faith, with what a chilliness would it overspread the otherwise delightful prospect of the communion of saints in Heaven, if there we are not to recognize them as fellow-pilgrims redeemed from earth! Communion implies personal knowledge of each other. If the glorified saint shall have communion with the angels of God, it will be with them as beings who have not only a personal existence, but also a personal history that may be remembered and rehearsed. Thus each angel in Heaven may run back through all the ages of his personal history—never, at any time, losing, even for one moment, the distinct individuality of his consciousness or his experience. And so must it also be with the saints of God. If their earthly history is lost, how shall we know that there ever was to them any such history? How shall we know that they ever were of the Church militant—redeemed and saved by the blood of Christ? But if their past history is known, how can it be separated from the individual person? If this can not be done, then to know the earthly history of the saint passed into Heaven is to obtain personal knowledge of him, so that there must be recognition between him and us. If he has an earthly history, and we have an earthly history, and each is capable of communicating his own history, or of receiving the history of the other, so certain is it that personal recognitions must take place. The Christian can never lose his identity, either on earth or in Heaven.

Personal recognition in the future life is essential to the unraveling of the mysteries of this. In the history of the purest and best men that have ever lived upon the earth, there are events, conflicts of mind, and even providential dealings that were dark and mysterious, and in many instances the individuals have gone down to the grave with the darkness unrelieved and the mystery unsolved. Our Saviour said to his disciples, "What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter." John xiii, 7. Thus, in the heavenly state, there is to be an unveiling of the mysteries of this. We shall know why the good man was afflicted and his life clouded with sorrow, and why

the wicked were permitted to prosper in his wickedness. The knowledge acquired there will be such as to assure us that the Judge of all the earth has done right.

II. REVELATION PROCLAIMS IT.

In affirming that revelation proclaims the recognition of friends in Heaven, we do not mean it is any where put into the precise formula of a proposition. Some of the most elementary truths of religion are passed by without any such formal statement; but they are constantly recognized in its general teachings, and, by obvious implication at least, taught in many of its most striking recorded transactions. So it is with the doctrine of spiritual recognition. It is interwoven in the very texture of revelation and runs through the whole scope of its teachings.

The mental basis of recognition, namely, personal identity, consciousness, perception and memory, are recognized as being retained in the future state. All this is implied in the song heard by St. John sung in Heaven, "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." Revelation v, 9. No one could sing this song for himself without a remembrance of the redeeming love of the Saviour, as it found him a lost and ruined sinner upon the earth, and made him a king and a priest unto God; and all this too from among a certain nation, people, tongue, and kindred. Nor could any one join with others in saying "Thou hast redeemed us," without some recognition of each one of the great company as having been once, like themselves, possessed of definite place, and language, and kindred upon the earth.

The doctrine of the resurrection, as taught in the Bible, implies both a preserved and a recognized individuality.

"Faith sees the bright, eternal doors Unfold to make his children way; They shall be clothed with endless life And shine in everlasting day. "The trump shall sound, the dead shall wake, From the cold tomb the slumb'rers spring; Through Heaven with joy their myriads rise, And hail their Saviour and their King." [Dwight.]

We do not undertake now to argue the fact of the resurrection of our bodies from the dead. That has already been done. But we now present a single point; namely, that this resurrection implies both a preserved and recognized individuality in the persons so resurrected.

Job says, "For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another," Chapter xix, 25-27. In this early foreshadowing of the resurrection, it is only stated that Job should in his resurrection body see "God;" not that God should see him, or that any body else should see him; but it is manifestly implied not only that he should see, but also that he should be seen.

Isaiah is still more explicit: "Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they rise." Chapter xxvi, 19. It is inconceivable that he should have employed such language if these dead were to rise unknowing each other. What avails rising together, and how can the promise bring cheer or comfort if we shall neither know nor be known in the rising?

When Jesus said unto Martha "Thy brother shall rise again"—John xi, 23—her reply was, "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day." Chapter xi, 24. Both the Comforter and the comforted in this interview must have had more in mind than an abstract assurance of a mere resurrection. There was implied restoration. The yearning heart of the sister grasped the idea that her loved brother should not only be raised from the dead, but should be restored to her arms.

But notice the particularity with which the resurrection is described; how distinct the different classes and individuals stand out. "Marvel not at this, for the hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice and shall come forth; they that have done good unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation." John v, 28, 29. "And this is the will of him that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son and believeth on him may have everlasting life, and I will raise him up at the last day." John vi, 40. It is not implied that they shall come up from the grave with characters different from those with which they went down into it, but with the same. For "many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." Daniel xii, 2. If it should be announced that those sleeping in the night should awake in the morning, the announcement would imply that they should awake the same persons, recognizable and recognizing, as when at nightfall they lay down to sleep. So in the resurrection morning. The announcement that we shall "awake," that we shall "come forth," "rise again," and "the dead, small and great, stand before God," can not by any possibility allow of so great a detraction from our personality as to render recognition impossible.

But to settle this question and place it beyond all doubt and all controversy, let us also be reminded of the resurrection of the body of Christ and its recognition by the disciples. This has something more than a formal and technical application to us and to our race. He arose the "first fruits," and the model after which the resurrection bodies of his saints shall be formed, for he "shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body." Phil. iii, 21. Or again it is said, "When he shall appear we shall be like him." John iii, 2. And yet the body raised was identified and recognized by the disciples as "that same Jesus" whom the Jews had taken and crucified with wicked hands. They knew his form, they recognized his voice, they saw the nail prints in his hands and his feet, the scar of the wound in his side; they felt him and found him flesh and bones, they walked with him, and from the summit of Olivet saw him ascend into Heaven. The recognition was perfect. The apostles and the early converts had undoubting faith of it—"so we preach and so ye believed"—1 Cor. xv, 11—was the testimony of Paul. If, then, Christ's resurrection body was clearly distinguished and recognized so as to produce undoubting faith, and if his resurrection body was the type and pattern of ours, surely we shall recognize each other in the resurrection state.

The revelations given us concerning the heavenly state clearly imply personal recognition among the saints in Heaven.

The gathering of the saints home to Heaven is thus described by our Lord: "Then shall he send his angels, and shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the uttermost part of the earth to the uttermost part of Heaven." Mark xiii, 27. And they "shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of Heaven." Matthew viii, 11. "And I will appoint unto you a kingdom as my Father hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom." Luke xxii, 29, 30. Is there not here recognition of individuals? Why, St. Luke adds that the wicked thrust out from this scene "shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of God." Luke xiii, 28. Surely higher privileges of recognition will not be given to the wicked thrust out of the kingdom of God than to the elect gathered into it.

St. Paul teaches us the joy the faithful pastor shall feel in the salvation of those to whom he has preached and for whom he has labored. He addresses them as his "joy and crown," exhorting them to steadfastness, that he might "rejoice in the day of Christ," for "ye also are our rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus." 2 Cor. i, 14.

And then he adds, "For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?" 1 Thess. ii, 19. But how is this consummation to be reached? The apostle tells them, "He which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall PRESENT US WITH YOU." 2 Cor. iv, 14. How sadly deluded was the apostle if those saved through his ministry were to be personally unknown to him in the heavenly state! To "present us with you" means something more than gathering up a bundle of abstractions, however holy they may be.

But in the delineations of the heavenly state this knowledge is still further implied. Witness the language of the Saviour to his disciples: "In my Father's house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am there ye may be also." John xiv, 2, 3. Witness, also, that comprehensive prayer of the Redeemer for all them that should believe on him—"that they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me and I in thee, that they also may be one in us. . . . Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me." John xvii, 21, 24. All these expressions imply mutual and endearing intercourse. It is the communion of the heavenly family especially among those members of that great family who have been redeemed from earth, and to whom the bliss of Heaven is heightened by the remembrance of that redemption. Now, then, can it be supposed that they know less of each other than when in the pilgrimage state? Rather is it not certain that in them has been realized that, though once they saw through a glass darkly, now they see face to face, knowing even as they also are known? This only can fulfill the conditions of a heavenly family mingling in social fellowship, beholding each other, sitting, and eating and drinking at the table of their common Lord, and joining with united heart and voice in celebrating the amazing love that sought them out while sinners and aliens, redeeming them to Christ, made them often sit together in heavenly places in the time of their pilgrimage, and now has exalted them to be kings and priests to God and the Lamb forever and forever. And such a family are they who are now gathered into one in Christ Jesus.

"Faith, Hope, and Love."

By C. F. Worthen

By faith I see the promised land, And hope that land to gain; And love by faith to view those fields, Promised to Abraham.

By faith I see the saints arise, And hope with them to stand; And love by faith to see that throng, That glorious happy band.

By faith I see the crystal stream, And hope of it to drink, And love by faith with saints to stand Upon its verdant brink.

By faith I see the tree of life, And hope its fruits to share, And love to think its healing balm Will banish sickness there.

By faith I see the glorious throne, And hope to see God's face; And love to know that darkness will Be banished from that place.

By faith I see the sea of glass, And hope on it to stand; And love by faith to sing the song Of Moses and the Lamb.

By faith I see the robes of white, And hope a robe to wear, And love to think that through our Lord, I may these blessings share! C. F. WORTHEN. West Charleston, Vt.

One of Rutherford's Letters.

THE following sweet, terse epistle is from that sainted divine of the seventeenth century, Samuel Rutherford. Of his volume of "Familiar Letters," Cecil makes the following strong remark: "Rutherford's Letters is one of my classics. Were truth the beam, I have no doubt that if Homer, and Virgil, and Horace, and all that the world has agreed to idolize, were weighed against that book, they would be lighter than vanity." Rutherford was an Adventist of the ardent kind, one who "waited in an agony" for the Lord's return. Said he, "O heavens cleave in two, that the bright face and head may set itself through the cloud." Here is a letter to a friend on patience in suffering, which doubtless will be acceptable to the reader. G.

"REV. AND DEAR BROTHER: Grace, mercy and peace to you. I find that my extremity hath sharpened the edge of His love and kindness, so that He seemeth to devise new ways of expressing the sweetness of his love to my soul. Suffering for Christ is the very element wherein Christ's love liveth, and exerciteth itself, in casting out flames of fire and sparks of heat, to warm such a frozen heart as I have; and if Christ weeping in sackcloth be so sweet, I cannot find any imaginable thoughts to think what he will be when we clay bodies have put off mortality and come up to the marriage hall and great palace, and behold the King clothed in robes royal, sitting on his throne. I would desire no more for my Heaven, while I am sighing in this house of clay, than daily renewed feasts of love with Christ, and liberty now and then to feed my hunger with a kiss of that fairest face, that is like the sun in his strength at noonday. I would willingly subscribe to Christ all the most delightful pleasures on earth, and forfeit my part of this clay-god—this earth which Adam's foolish children worship, and be with Christ, and fill this hungered and famished soul with kissing, embracing, and real enjoyment of the Son of God. And I think that then, I might write to my friends that I had found the Golden World, and look out and laugh at the poor bodies who are slaying one another for feathers. For verily brother, since I came to this prison, I have conceived a new and extraordinary

opinion of Christ which I had not before; for I perceive we postpone all our joys to Christ, till he and we be in our own house above, thinking there is nothing of it here to be sought or found, but only hope and fair promises; and that Christ will give us here nothing but tears, sadness, and crosses; and that we shall never feel the smell of the flowers of that high garden of paradise above, till we come there. Nay, but I find that it is possible to find young glory and young green paradise of joy, even here.

I know that Christ's kisses will cast a more strong and refreshing smell of incomparable glory and joy in Heaven than they do here, because a drink of the well of life up at the well's head is more sweet and fresh by far, than that which we get in our borrowed, old, running out vessels, and our wooden dishes here. Yet I am now persuaded it is our folly to postpone all till the term day, seeing that abundance of earnest will not diminish anything of your principal sum. We dream of hunger in Christ's house while we are here, although he alloweth feasts to all the children within God's household. It were good then to store ourselves with more borrowed kisses of Christ and with more borrowed visits, till we enter heirs to our new inheritance, and our Tutor put us in possession of our own.

Oh that all the young heirs would seek more, and a greater, and a nearer communion with their Lord Tutor, the prime heir of all, Christ! I wish that for my part, I could send you into the King's innermost cellar and house of wine, to be filled with love;—a drink of this love is worth the having indeed. We carry ourselves but too nicely with Christ our Lord; and our Lord loveth not niceness, and dryness, and reserve in friends. Since need force that we must be under obligation to Christ, then let us be under obligation to Christ, for it will be no otherwise.

Now for my present case in my imprisonment, deliverance for anything that I can see looketh cold like. My hope, if it looked to, or leaned upon men, would wither soon at the root, yet I resolve to solace myself with waiting on my Lord, and to let my faith swim where it loseth ground. I am under the necessity of fainting (which my Master of whom I boast all the day will avert), or then to lay my faith upon Omnipotency, and to wink and stick by my grip. And I hope that my ship shall ride it out, seeing Christ is willing to blow his sweet wind into my sails, and mendeth and closeth the leaks in my ship, and ruleth all. It will be strange if a believing passenger be cast overboard."

Negro Zeal to Learn.

The Charlottesville, Va., Chronicle, thus graphically depicts the eagerness with which the negroes of that place embrace the opportunity for learning to read:

“Charlottesville is fairly entitled to be called the literary center of the South. There is, first, the University of Virginia, with its learned professors on all sorts of subjects. Then we have two large female seminaries, where young ladies learn thirty or forty things ending in —ology. Then we have some half dozen first class academies for boys. Then several select schools. Then a number of schools for the English branches. And then the whole colored population of all sexes and ages is repeating from morning to night a-b—ab, e-b—eb, i-b—ib; c-a-t—cat; d-o-g—dog; c-u-p—cup; etc.,—through all the varieties of the first lessons of orthography. There are some four or five colored schools, and little negro chaps darken every door, with primers in their hands. If we pass a blacksmith's shop, we hear a-b—ab; if we peep into a shoe-maker's shop it is a-b—ab; if we pass by a negro cabin in the suburbs of the town, we hear the sound, a-b—ab; if the cook goes out to suckle her infant, it is a-b—ab; the dining-room servant washes up his dishes and plates, crying, a-b—ab; the hostler curries his horse, repeating a-b—ab; Jerry blacks your boots, saying, with rapid strokes, a-b—ab, a-b—ab; the whole air is resonant with a-b—ab. The little yellow boy who sleeps in our chamber awoke us the other night, muttering in his dreams a-b—ab. If you send a little negro boy on an errand, he is spelling everything he meets in one syllable. The little white boys look at them wonderingly, and try to 'cork' them. In one month or so we expect to issue an evening edition of the Chronicle in monosyllables, to increase our circulation—perhaps a pictorial, with tubs and spades, and ants and cows, and owls and bats, like the primers.”

Tobacco.

The man who is a slave to tobacco makes it his idol. And has not God said in thunder tones, "Thou shalt have no other gods before me?" And are we not informed in the Bible that whoever breaks the least of God's commandments is guilty of the whole? Why will a man hazard his soul for that which is fast making a wreck of his body? When the starving man is fed, his soul is for the time satisfied. When the appetite craving for tobacco is gratified, then the soul is also satisfied. Yes, satisfied to lie down in the jaws of death—in the whirlwind of destruction! But when death approaches where is your surety; where is your guide to the pearly gates? You have made tobacco your god, but it does not grow in Heaven, so you do not want to go there. You have allowed it to lull your conscience all through the journey, and now your consolation forsakes you at the portal of the other world. You have been idle in regard to spiritual things in this life, and now an eternity of idleness awaits you. This morning, while conversing with a tobacco devotee, he said, "I must have my tobacco. It is more company to me when alone than any person could be. When I try to break off using it I want something all the time, and then I have to begin again." If then, it is such a cruel master, let me implore you, young men, to beware of the fetters. Do not think because others use it that this is any excuse for you. You are individually responsible to God your Maker, for the sins you commit. Heed a timely warning and studiously avoid an evil so destructive to soul and body.

The Scriptures and Christianity

THE SCRIPTURES AND CHRISTIANITY.—The following curious and interesting items are furnished by Miss Virginia Penny, from whose pen we have had several valuable articles:

“The giving of the Scriptures occupied 1,500 years. The division of the Scriptures into chapters and verses is said to have originated with Cardinal Langton in the commencement of the thirteenth century. The Bible is composed of sixty-six books. Those that have turned their attention to the subject assert that more than five hundred Bible prophecies have been fulfilled. The Bible is translated into two hundred languages. One hundred and sixty of these translations have been made during the last fifty years. Fifty have been made by American instrumentality. There are seventy Bible societies in existence. There are 3,000 missionaries. During the first half of the present century 1,200 American women went out as missionaries. There are supposed to be 50,000,000 Bibles published in the world—over 4,000,000 published in the United States. The number of nominal Christians is stated to be 200,000,000, of which it is thought only 1-30 are real Christians. 800,000,000 of the 1,000,000,000 human beings extant are ignorant of the plan of salvation.—Ladies' Repository.

Our Home

By Sir Matthew Hale

Our Home.—Our home, our country, is Heaven, where there are no sorrows, nor fears, nor troubles; this world is the place of our travel and pilgrimage, and, at the best, our inn.

In my Father's house there are mansions, many mansions, instead of an inn; and my Saviour himself hath not disdained to be my harbinger; he is gone before me, to prepare a place for me. I will therefore, content myself with the inconveniences of my short journey, for my accommodations will be admirable when I come to my home, that heavenly Jerusalem, which is the place of my rest and happiness.—Sir Matthew Hale.

The Healing Power of Kind Words

Hasty words often rankle the wound which injury gives; but soft words assuage it; forgiving cures it; and forgetting takes away the scar.

The Sad Fate of Rumsellers.

“The Rumseller,” says T. P. Hunt, “is wont to die a bankrupt—his sons and clerks to die drunkards—his daughters to marry drunkards—and his family to waste away by the ravages of vice.” Says a merchant, “I have been engaged in trade and commerce in this city upward of twenty-two years, and occupied the store I am now in during the whole time. Not an individual originally near me is now to be found, save three flour merchants. In casting my eyes around the old neighborhood, and looking back to the period above mentioned, I ask, Where are they now? On my left were a father and his two sons, grocers, in prosperous business. The sons went down to the grave several years since in poverty, confirmed drunkards. On my right was a firm of long and respectable standing, engaged in foreign commerce, the junior partner of which some years since died, confirmed in this habit. Five or six doors above, was one holding a highly responsible position under our State Government. At first, he was seen to stop and take a little gin and water; and soon he was seen staggering in the street; presently he was laid in the grave, a victim to intemperance. On the corner immediately opposite my store, was a grocer, doing a moderate business. Being addicted to drink, in a state of intoxication he went into the upper loft of his store at noon-day, put fire into an open keg having powder in it, blew the roof off his store, and himself into eternity. One door beyond this corner was a father, an officer in one of our churches, a grocer, and his two sons. Both sons have long since been numbered with the dead, through the effects of drink; a son-in-law of the above father, pursuing the same business, following the practice of the sons, has come to the same end; a young man, clerk and successor in the same store, has also gone down to the grave from the same cause. On the other side of the Slip, a wealthy grocer died, leaving a family of several young men, three of whom, together with a sister and her husband, have since died in poverty, confirmed drunkards. Next door to this, a junior partner of one of the most respectable grocers in this city, has long since followed the above from the same cause, leaving behind him two brothers, comparatively young in years, but old in this vice, now living on the charity of friends.”

God a Satisfying Portion.

Do we desire affection? Who can measure the rich treasures of that heart that spans the universe in one grasp of its benevolence, and that has promised to withhold no good thing from them that walk uprightly? Who can estimate that affection that knows no change or fickleness; that is permanent as God's own being, untouched by the chills of earth, undestroyed by the feebleness of our love to him, and undiminished by the long lapse of time or eternity? Do we desire riches? He offers us “an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that fadeth not away.” Do we covet power? “To him that overcometh,” says the Saviour, “I will grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.” Do we desire station and rank, and honor and influence? He will make us kings and priests unto God. Do we desire rest from the pains, sorrows, and troubles of life? “There the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.” And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain. Do we long for freedom from sin? There shall in no wise enter into that city anything that defileth. Its holy gates forever bar pollution, sin, and shame. Do we desire a blessed place of abode as our future home? “In our Father's house are many mansions” and there shall be no more curse, and the city shall have “no need of the sun neither of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” And this is an abode of bliss that may be ours forever for he that hath gone to prepare a place for us, will come again, and receive us unto himself.

Continue reading: The Immortality of the Soul