bowers, what quiet meadows, what murmuring, laughing streams, what green, extended plains, what solemn mountains, what bright and peaceful heavens - in short, place together and take in one view, by the power of the imagination, all the thousand things of beauty which make up the lovely details of earthly scenery, and what scenes of surprising loveliness and beauty does even earth afford! If such scenes still appear in the land of the curse, what must it be where no curse was ever known! Imagination staggers and trembles in its present abode of clay, under the effort to realize the glories of the final abode of the sainted dead.

Hail ye blest inhabitants of that lovely and peaceful land! Hail ye happy spirits of the sainted dead! We feel, even here upon earth, a comfortable earnest of your celestial joys. The bright landscape of those immortal realms lies before the eyes of our faith in smiles of invitation. We are cheered, even on these low grounds of sin and sorrow, by the dawn of an eternal morning, and we have a desire to depart; yet "all the days of our appointed time will we wait till our change come. Thou shalt call, and we will answer thee."

We speak of the realms of the blest,
Of that country so bright and so fair

And oft are its glories confess'd-
But what must it be to be there!

We speak of its pathways of gold,

Of its walks deck'd with jewels so rare,
Of its wonders and pleasures untold—
But what must it be to be there!

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 Beaven?

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

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.