happiness, peace and joy might be found, for which all mortal beings
pant with the same aspirations of strong desire, but has sought in
vain. From the earliest ages, one system after another has been
invented, and in succession abandoned, but all have come short of
discovering any thing solid on which to rest their hopes of earthly
felicity.

Jesus Christ, the author and finisher of our faith, has alone
accomplished what all the penetration of Pythagoras and all the moral
lessons of Seneca and Socrates failed to discover. With a bold, firm
and untrembling hand he has drawn aside the curtains of the tomb, and
pointed the human family to a second birth from the dark womb of death
into mansions of incorruptible felicity in the kingdom of God, where
they shall die no more, and where all the inquietudes, appertaining to
this fleeing existence, shall be unknown. This future state of being,
he has not only revealed, but has demonstrated its certainty by those
incontestable evidences, which can never be shaken by all the powers
of infidelity combined. He has burst the icy bands of death and risen
triumphant beyond its solemn shade, and begot in us those lively
hopes, those fond desires, that ease the aching heart--that
communicate unbroken peace amidst the various ills of life, and afford
it divine consolation and joy in the trying moment of death. In those
interesting truths the believer confides, and in every condition in
life is enabled to rejoice in the hope that when "this earthly
tabernacle is dissolved, he has a building of God, a house not made
with hands eternal in the heavens." In this faith, man's countless
wants are satisfied, inasmuch as God has secured his dearest interest.
In this faith the believer is entered into rest, is born of God, and
is translated into his kingdom. He _knows_ that by faith he has passed
from death unto life, for his soul is filled with love to God and man.
This love, this divine enjoyment, is the natural effect of _faith_,
inasmuch as it works by love, purifies the heart and overcomes, the
world. He is not only at rest respecting himself, but at rest
respecting his children and dear friends, whom he may be called to
follow to the land of silence and the shadow of death. He stands at
their dying bed and whispers to them consolation, in the joyful
assurance, that he shall meet them again beyond the dominion of death
and pain in the regions of glory. His bosom is the mansion of those
pure