confounded the wise and the simple, been the sport of wrangling schoolmen, and the marvel of fanatical devotees. The great truths relating to the existence, the attributes, and providence of God, his dispensations to men, the coming of Christ, the divine character and obligations of his religion, are sufficiently perspicuous. No man can forfeit salvation through ignorance, or error, who will employ such means of knowledge as God has given him, live in strict obedience to what he believes to be the will of his Maker, and conform to the known laws of the Saviour, although he may not be fully acquainted with the nature of Christ's person, and all the particulars of the scheme, which God designed to accomplish by his mission. Read the Scriptures, believe, and obey. Guard as much as possible against errors of faith, but let it be your first and highest purpose to remove the evils of the heart.

Thoughts on Life and Death.*

No object is so insignificant, no event so trivial, as not to carry with it a moral and religious influence. The trees that spring out of the earth are moralists. They are emblems of the life of man. They grow up; they put on the garments of freshness and beauty. Yet

* From a SERMON, preached in the Hall of the House of Representatives in Congress, Washington City, March 3, 1822; occasioned by the Deatn of the Hon. WILLIAM PINKNEY, late a Member of the Senate of the United States. By JARED SPARKS, Minister of the First Independent Church in Baltimore; and Chaplain to the House of Representatives in Congress.

these continue but for a time, decay seizes upon the root and the trunk, and they gradually go back to their original elements. The blossoms that open to the rising sun, but are closed at night, never to open again, are moralists. The seasons are moralists, teaching the lessons of wisdom, manifesting the wonders of the Creator, and calling on man to reflect on his condition and destiny. History is a perpetual moralist, disclosing the annals of past ages, showing the impotency of pride and greatness, the weakness of human power, the folly of human wisdom. The daily occurrences in society are moralists. The success or failure of enterprize, the prosperity of the bad, the adversity of the good, the disappointed hopes of the sanguine and active, the sufferings of the virtuous, the caprices of fortune in every condition of life; all these are fraught with moral instructions, and if properly applied, will fix the power of religion in the heart.

But there is a greater moralist still; and that is, Death. Here is a teacher, who speaks in a voice, which none can mistake; who comes with a power, which none can resist. Since we last assembled in this place, as the humble and united worshippers of God, this stern messenger, this mysterious agent of Omnipotence, has come among our numbers, and laid his withering hand on one, whom we have been taught to honour and respect, whose fame was a nation's boast, whose genius was a brilliant spark from the etherial fire, whose attainments were equalled only by the grasp of his intellect, the profoundness of his judgment, the exuberance of his fancy, the magic of his eloquence.

It is not my present purpose to ask your attention to any picture drawn in the studied phrase of eulogy. I

aim not to describe the commanding powers and the eminent qualities, which conducted the deceased to the superiority he held, and which were at once the admiration and the pride of his countrymen. I shall not attempt to analyse his capacious mind, nor to set forth the richness and variety of its treasures. The trophies of his genius are a sufficient testimony of these, and constitute a monument to his memory, which will stand firm and conspicuous amidst the faded recollections of future ages. The present is not the time to recount the sources or the memorials of his greatness. He is gone. The noblest of heaven's gifts could not shield, even him from the arrows of the destroyer. And this behest of the Most High is a warning summons to us all. When death comes into our doors, we ought to feel that he is When his irreversible sentence falls on the great and the renowned, when he severs the strongest bonds, which can bind mortals to earth, we ought to feel that our hold on life is slight, that the thread of existence is slender, that we walk amidst perils, where the next wave in the agitated sea of life may baffle all our struggles and carry us back into the dark bosom of the deep.

near.

When we look at the monuments of human greatness, and the powers of human intellect, all that genius has invented, or skill executed, or wisdom matured, or industry achieved, or labour accomplished; when we trace these through the successive gradations of human advancement, what are they? On these are founded the pride, glory, dignity of man. And what are they? Compared with the most insignificant work of God, they are nothing, less than nothing. The mightiest works of man are daily and hourly becoming extinct. The boasted theories of religion, morals, government,

which took the wisdom, the ingenuity of ages to invent, have been proved to be shadowy theories only. Genius has wasted itself in vain; the visions it raised, have vanished at the touch of truth. Nothing is left but the melancholy certainty, that all things human are imperfect, and must fail and decay. And man himself, whose works are so fragile, where is he? The history of his works is the history of himself. He existed; he

The nature of human life cannot be more forcibly described, than in the beautiful language of eastern poetry, which immediately precedes the text. "Man, that is born of a woman, is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down; he fleeth as a shadow and continueth not. There is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground; yet through the scent of water it will bud and bring forth boughs like a plant. But man wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?" Such are the striking emblems of human life; such is the end of all, that is mortal in man. And what a question is here for us all to reflect upon! "Man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?"

Yes, when we see the flower of life fade on its stalk, and all its comeliness depart, and all its freshness wither; when we see the bright eye grow dim, and the rose on the cheek lose its hue; when we hear the voice faltering its last accents, and see the energies of nature paralyzed; when we perceive the beams of intelligence growing fainter and fainter on the countenance, and the last gleam of life extinguished; when we deposit all

that is mortal of a fellow being in the dark cold chamber of the grave, and drop a pitying tear at a spectacle so humiliating, so mournful; then let us put the solemn question to our own souls, Where is he? His body is concealed in the earth, but where is the spirit? Where is the intellect that could look through the works of God, and catch inspiration from the divinity, which animates and pervades the whole? Where the powers that could command, the attractions that could charm; where the boast of humanity, wisdom, learning, wit, eloquence, the pride of skill, the mystery of art, the creations of fancy, the brilliancy of thought; where the virtues that could win, and the gentleness that could soothe; where the mildness of temper, the generous affections, the benevolent feelings, all that is great and good, all that is noble, and lovely, and pure in the human character, where are these? They are gone. We can see nothing; the eye of faith only can dimly penetrate the region to which they have fled. Lift the eye of faith; follow the light of the gospel; and let your delighted vision be lost in the glories of the immortal world. Behold, there, the spirits of the righteous dead rising up into newness of life, gathering brightness and strength, unencumbered by the weight of mortal clay, and mortal sorrows, enjoying a happy existence, and performing the holy service of their Maker.

Let our reflections on death have a weighty and immediate influence on our minds and characters. We cannot be too soon, nor too entirely prepared to render the account, which we must all render to our Maker and judge. All things earthly must fail us; the riches, power, possessions, and gifts of the world will vanish from our sight; friends and relatives will be left behind; our present support will be taken away; our strength