We speak of its freedom from sin, From sorrow, temptation, and care; From trials, without and within

But what must it be to be there!

We speak of its service of love,

Of the robes which the glorified wear, Of the church of the first-born aboveBut what must it be to be there!

Do thou, Lord, 'midst sorrow and wo,
Still for heaven my spirit prepare;

And shortly I also shall know

And feel what it is to be there!

CHAPTER II.

Where is Beau eu?

Oh! could our thoughts and wishes fly,
Above these gloomy shades,

To those bright worlds beyond the sky,
Which sorrow ne'er invades !

HERE let no one's curiosity be unduly on the alert. Speculations on this subject are plenty and sufficiently wild. I do not intend to add to them. There is a class of persons who are always more diligent to pry into things not revealed, than into things which are. Let that fancy which is ever on the wing, and ready at the smallest beck to soar into things not seen, stay its flight. It will fly in vain, for, like Noah's dove, it will find no resting-place. It may for a moment rest on some floating twig on this pathless ocean, but before it can nestle itself into a comfortable quiet, a billow will drive it away. Thus fancy may find a home for the spirit, but it will be a home on the deep. If, then, we desire to know where is our future home, we must cast down imaginations, take the Bible, and sit at the feet of Him who brought immortality to light. What we learn in this way, though it may not ( 45 )

be much, will be true, and it will also be all that we need know, while we are on this side of the grave.

The ancient nations and tribes have always somewhere located for themselves a heaven, as the object of their desires and hopes. The spiritual longings of the superstitious pagans found a home for their dead beyond the misty sea. There, in some island, unknown and unvisited by mortals, their imaginations located the Hesperian gardens and Elysian fields. Their fancy beautified them with beds of flowers, embowered walks, cool retreats, mossy seats, and groves of spices, quiet valleys and crystal streams, sparkling fountains and skies unclouded, and airs rich with odours, upon which floated the matins and vespers of the blest in notes of unearthly sweetness! Here was a home for their weary spirits, the thoughts of which made the ills of life more easy, and the thoughts of death more comfortable. The leaders of the people promised them that if they lived virtuous lives, according to the pagan notions of virtue, they should at death be borne away to these abodes of blessedness and peace.

More modern discoveries show that similar ideas of a home for the spirit after death, prevail among the inhabitants of the different islands of the ocean. * As the dead are put out of sight, it is natural that they should locate the abodes of their spirits out of sight; and hence they generally fix upon some lovely island in the far off seas. "The North American Indians believe that beyond the most distant mountains of

*See Dick's Future State, page 20, et seq.

their country, there is a wide river; beyond that river a great country; on the other side of that country a world of water; in that water are a thousand islands, full of trees and streams of water, and that a thousand buffaloes, and ten thousand deer, graze on the hills, or ruminate in the valleys. When they die, they are persuaded that the Great Spirit will conduct them to this land of souls." Their ideas of the place where they shall be blest after death, are beautifully described by the poet.

"Even the poor Indian, whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind,
Whose soul proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk or milky way—
Yet simple nature to his hope has given,
Behind the cloud-capt hill, an humbler heaven;
Some safer world in depths of wood embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold,-
And thinks, admitted to yon equal sky,

His faithful dog shall bear him company."-POPE.

It was natural for these pagan nations and tribes thus to create imaginary worlds of happiness. The desire for happiness in the human breast is general and natural, and where the least idea of the soul's immortality exists, this desire is increased. As immortality has been brought to light more clearly by revelation, it has also increased, in like proportion, the desire of future blessedness. The pagan nations having had but a limited knowledge of the world in which they lived, very naturally suffered their speculations to locate their heaven in the unknown regions.

We, being acquainted with this world, give our imaginations more scope, and therefore seek no more for the abode of the blest on the plain of this earth; but, invited and allured by revelation, the human mind has directed its speculation into the heavens, where many worlds are still floating like islands in the blue sea of space,-here fancy may still erect its castles where no human eye can penetrate to question the reality of their existence. Speculations are therefore not yet at an end. The earnest eye of men, stirred by immortal desires, still wanders through the wide universe of God, and fixes us now on one place, and now upon another, as the probable abode of the blessed dead.

I will present to the reader some of the speculations which have been made by deep-thinking men in reference to the locality of the future world of the blest. This is done, not to invite his faith, or to satisfy his curiosity, but to prepare the mind for something surer and better, into which, I trust, his convictions may be led by aid of the sure word of prophecy. The bee hovers around the flower before it lights upon it; we cannot tell the reason, but we are satisfied with its conduct. Men will speculate; and if you lead them not a chase through its wild regions, they will not relish the truth. The prodigal is better satisfied with his home after he has travelled. One who has long wandered in dreary mountains, scaled precipices, wound around rocks, trees, pits, and brush, though the excursion was romantic and pleasant at first, is glad to find some beaten path. So, when we walk a while in the devious and difficult regions