THE Primitive Methodist Magazine DECEMBER, 1873. A Sermon,. Preached by the REV. JOSEPH LONG, in Collins Street Chapel, Hobart Town, Tasmania, June 23, 1872, being the first anniversary of the death of his son Watson Towler. "Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."-2 Sam. xii. 23. MAN is to himself a great mystery. Who of the most able and learned among men can tell how the immortal spirit dwells in and acts upon the body? We each concur in the words of the Psalmist, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." If it be beyond our comprehension how the spirit now acts upon and through the present body, what shall we say of that state of being where the spirit exists without the body? Here our faith must avail itself of the truths revealed to us by God, or we shall wander hopelessly in the dark. How dreary and sad were the ideas of ancient heathen, in reference to another state of being. Many of them could think of nothing beyond death, and some who tried to peer into the darkness beyond, were lost in the mazes of uncertainty and doubt. The wisest of heathen philosophers spoke doubtingly of a future state of existence. And how sorrowful it is to think of the clouds of darkness resting on the minds of modern heathens, in reference to another state of being beyond death. The notions of barbarous or semi-civilized tribes, are crude, distracting, visionary, or even worse-demoralising. The ideas VOL. XI.-FOURTH SERIES. 2 Z of the Chinese, the Japanese, and the Hindoos, who have a good measure of civilisation among them, are, in reference to eternity, vague or irrational, and contradictory. It is indeed saddening to think that there is such a vast stream of immortal spirits, passing on to eternity in the dark troubled waters of doubt and despair. How precious the light of God's revelation, as viewed in reference to both worlds-"Godliness hath the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." The glorious truths of Christ's kingdom which enlighten our path through this world, and set before us the glories of the next, appear to have been gradually made known. What a precious glimpse of the truth David had; how richly he enjoyed its consolation, as we find from the text. I. NOTICE THE OUTBURST OF A SORROWFUL HEART.-" Can I bring him back again? he shall not return to me." Even in our bitterest grief we do homage to truth; we believe the spirit is still living although it has left us. David here, speaking of his child who had died, yet speaks of the spirit as alive; the spirit had gone forth from the body--that which was the nobler part of the child was now beyond reach in another state of existence. us; It is only the eye of faith that takes in the whole truth in reference to a separate state of existence, -the body dies, there it remains before the pulse has ceased to beat, the heart to throb, the eyes are closed, the limbs are motionless, the body grows cold, the spirit has gone, that which a few moments before spoke to us, heard our reply, held loving intercourse with us, is gone; we speak, we are not heard; we listen, there is no reply-it is all over. But while we are saying these words one to another sorrowfully on this side the vail of eternity, on the other side of the same vail the spirit is living, indeed has entered more fully into life than ever it did. Immediately on the death of the body the soul of the believer enters upon the conscious enjoyment of a better life beyond death; scripture clearly teaches this. The holy Saviour said to the believing penitent as he hung upon the cross-"To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." And the apostle Paul saith in words so plain and express-" Absent from the body, present with the Lord." And again, speaking of his own aspirations after that state of glory, he says, "I have a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." When sin is pardoned, and the spirit is prepared for heaven, what a blessed change then takes place; the body as a ruined house had become unfit as a habitation for the soul-aches and pains attended every movement; but then, when the spirit goes forth into the freshness of spirit-life, how glorious to be greeted by ministering angels, to be told by them that the struggles of mortality are over, and that now the life of heaven is awaiting the soul for ever. We know it is impossible to bring back the departed one, and yet how we linger and watch near the remains as though the mind could scarce satisfy itself that all connection was broken off in bodily intercourse; and even after the body is committed to its resting place, under the guardianship of Jesus, we seem to wait for some footfall, or some spoken word, or something to indicate the presence of the departed one; we have to accustom ourselves to the fact that the loved one has gone, before we seem properly to realize it; but the sense of separation does settle on the hearts of those who are left behind; the earthly tie is broken and becomes a heavenly one; the bodily presence has passed away from the eye of sense; we no longer look upon the body and mark its decays-that is all past,-but the presence of the spirit is believed in and realised by faith. Those who have left us in body are oft near us in spirit; yet we know that now they belong to another order of things ; that the veil of eternity has dropped over them; that henceforth they will be no more in the world till "the end of all things;" we "cannot bring them back." And now I would say what the Christian's heart will fully concur in,—we would not bring them back. Perhaps in moments of sorrow and sadness we may think we should like to have our departed ones restored, that we might show to them more fully how dear they were to us, and especially if words of unkindness or any estrangement had taken place, we might desire that intercourse should be renewed, that every broken link of life might be repaired, and that everything might be removed which to our sensitive and trembling hearts seems likely to prevent the flow of spiritual intercourse. But this cannot be, and be assured for your comfort, that all that fulness of gushing tenderness which you feel for the departed, they become acquainted therewith, and reciprocate it; as your soul opens heavenwards they are aware of its aspirations, and hasten to minister to your consolation and hope. You would not wish their return to a life of sickness. Ah, no! the sorrow that bowed down your own spirit as you beheld them daily drooping, almost overwhelmed you. You do not wish a return even on your own account; much less, do you desire it on theirs. Say, widowed sister, could you wish your husband back to pass through the same ordeal through which he has gone? Say, parent, could you wish that the long conflict with disease through which your loved one has gone shall be again renewed, to be carried on once more, till the release of death come? No, you would not; now you say,-"My soul is even as a weaned child." Now you hasten to the throne of grace and say, Thy will be done." 66 You thank God for the gracious change wrought by the power of the eternal Spirit in their conversion. Indeed, it may be, that for that conversion you had long prayed; and it was brought about clearly and fully in a way that filled your soul with solemn awe; and then the ripen |