When multitudes at Carthage were swept away by a desolating pestilence, Cyprian said to his church:-" We ought not to mourn for those who are delivered from the world by the call of the Lord, since we know they are not lost, but sent before us; that they have taken their leave of us in order to precede us. We may long after them as we do for those who have sailed on a distant voyage, but not lament them. We may not here below put on dark robes of mourning, when they above have already put on white robes of glory; we may not give the heathens any just occasion to accuse us of weeping for those as lost and extinct, of whom we say that they live with God, and of failing to prove by the witness of our hearts the faith we confess with our lips. We, who live in hope, who believe in God, and trust that Christ has suffered for us and risen again; we, who abide in Christ, who through Him and in Him rise again-why do we not ourselves wish to depart out of this world?—or why do we lament for the friends who have been separated from us, as if they were lost?"*

Would it not increase the loveliness of our piety as well as enrich the sources of our consolations, if we, after these examples, communed more with the spirits of the dead in the element of a holy love? We feel bound, as Christians, to love all the saints among the living, and to seek their affectionate fellowship; but why, if

"Saints on earth, and all the dead,"

make but one communion in Christ-why should we not love the dead, think of them, and long after their society as we do after those who have not yet crossed that narrow flood which divides

"That heavenly land from ours?".

*Neander's History of the Church, vol. i. pp. 333, 334.

Yes, we should love them still. Let us endeavour to hear by faith the sweet notes of their heavenly harpings, and catch the tender gleam of their eyes, as they look toward us in deep unutterable love, till we feel heaven drawing nearer to us, and ourselves drawing nearer to it. Thus did the ancient Christians, while they sat at the graves of those they had loved in life, and still loved in death, with "childlike resignation to that eternal love which takes, in order to restore what it has taken under a more glorious form; which separates for a moment, in order to reunite the separated in a glorious state through eternity."

At the close of his sermon on immortality, Cyprian breaks out in a touchingly beautiful passage, directly on the subject of the heavenly recognition. I translate it from the German, as quoted by Johann Repomuk Locherer, in his History of the Christian Religion and the Church: "Precious to us will be the day that shall assign to each of us our place of abode, that shall remove us hence and release us from the snares of earth, and bring us to Paradise in the heavenly kingdom. Who, finding himself in a strange country, does not earnestly desire to return to his Fatherland? Who, about to sail in haste for his home and his friends across the sea, does not long for a friendly wind, that he may the sooner throw his arms around his beloved ones? We believe Paradise to be our Fatherland: our parents are the patriarchs; why should we not haste and fly to see our home and greet our parents? A great host of beloved friends await us there: a numerous and various crowd, parents, brethren, children, who are secure in a blessed immortality, and only still concerned for us, are looking with desire for our arrival. To see and embrace these-what a mutual joy will this be to us and them!

What bliss, without the fear of death, to live eternally in the heavenly kingdom! How vast, and of eternal duration, is our celestial blessedness! There is the glorious choir of the apostles-there the host of joyful prophets-there the innumerable company of the martyrs, crowned on account of their victory in the conflict of suffering. There in triumph are the pure virgins. There the merciful who have fed and blest the poor, and, according to their Lord's direction, have exchanged earthly for heavenly treasures, now receive their glorious reward. To these, dearly beloved brethren, let us hasten with strong desire, and ardently wish soon to be with them, and with Christ."

St. Ambrose, who flourished in the third century, in a funeral oration, in reference to the death of the emperor Valentinian, says: "Let us believe that Valentinian is ascended from the desert, that is to say, from this dry and unmanured (inculto) place, unto those flowery delights, where being conjoined with his brother (Gratian) he enjoyeth the pleasures of everlasting life."

This same St. Ambrose, in one of his epistles, comforts Faustinus on the death of his sister, thus: "Do not the carcasses* of so many half-ruined cities, and the funerals of so much land exposed under one view, admonish thee that the departure of one woman, although a holy and admirable one, should be borne with great consolation, especially seeing they are cast down and overthrown for ever; but she being taken from us but for a time, doth pass a better life there?"

In such like passages did the ancient Christian Fathers their belief in the doctrine of a future recognition

express

* He seems to allude to some calamity by war, fire, flood, or storm, in which countries and cities were laid desolate.

among the sainted dead. Such is the mellow and soothing voice of precious consolation, as it comes to us from pious bereaved hearts, over the waste of many centuries. These voices have acquired a kind of venerable authority; and we listen to them with silent reverence, as we do to the words of grey-haired wisdom. Their preservation through so many ages best shows how congenial they are to the wants and wishes of the human heart. They have gathered around them a savour and an unction, which indicates an anointing from above. They are a living and practical commentary, extending through all ages of the church, on that article of faith pronounced in deep and steady assurance by millions: "I believe in the communion of saints."

CHAPTER IX.

Beavenly Recognition among Cheologians.

Like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.-Song of Solomon, iv. 4.

In one sense the testimonies we here present have only the weight of individual or private opinion, but in another respect they are more. There is strength in the agreement of so many. These men had the same love for truth as we have, the same motives to seek it, and the same interest in it when it is found. We may therefore be fully assured that they were as earnest and sincere in seeking the truth as we can possibly be. This certainly assists us in resting, with some assurance and confidence, upon the conclusions at which they have arrived.

In looking at the belief of others on this subject, we feel also that we are not starting up a new doctrine, or pursuing a new hope. There is truth in the postulate: what is true is not new, and what is new is not true. Especially is this true in reference to doctrines in religion. We feel, however, that we are not condemned by this principle, when we find ourselves supported in this belief by the wisest and best men in all ages and in all countries. We feel in hearing them that, in a certain sense, we "hear the