one are perhaps equally pregnant with incidents, as the years of the other.

Death is gloomy and revolting, if we look only at its externals. Who, that has seen a lifeless corpse, has been able to remain unmoved, by the affecting contrast to its former self, which it exhibited? The closed and sunken eye, which erewhile beamed with intelligence, or sparkled with delight; the motionless lips, which gave utterance to sentiments of wisdom and of piety, or, it may be, of reckless folly and unblushing falsehood; the heart which beat with feeling, and the head which meditated, planned, and formed conclusions, what are they now? A heap of lifeless clay,―a mass of corruption,-food for worms!

But, when we look deeper, and regard death with the eye of reason and religion, it assumes a very different aspect. The body is but the house of the soul. The feeble tenement has fallen into decay, and its living inmate has removed. It is but the covering in which the chrysalis was confined; the time of its change has arrived, and it has burst its shell, to expatiate in a new life; or rather it is the instrument with which an intelligent being performed its work ;-the task is finishedthe instrument is worn out, and cast away,—the artificer has gone to other labours.

Such is the conclusion of reason; and the analogy of Nature gives countenance to the view. Nothing is annihilated. Every thing, indeed,-organized matter above all, grows old, corrupts, and decays; but it does not cease to exist, it only changes its form. The herbs, the flowers, and the leafy pride of spring and summer, wither, fall, and are mingled with their parent earth; but from their mouldering remains, elements are furnished which clothe a new year with vegetable life, as fresh, and abundant, and lovely as before. Nature is not dead, but sleepeth. The seeds, roots, and buds of the year that are past, are preserved, through the rigours of winter, with admirable care, till the voice of a new spring calls them

once more into life, that the seasons may again run their course, and autumn may again spread her liberal feast. Neither does the soul perish. It has "shuffled off its mortal coil," but it has not ceased to live. This is a conclusion at which we eagerly arrive.

What, then, has become of this ethereal spark? Reason cannot tell; but conjecture has been rife. Some have imagined, that the disembodied spirit passes into other bodies, and runs a new course of birth, life, and death, in new forms,-that all living things, from the lowest to the highest grade, are possessed of souls, which either have animated, or may yet animate, human frames; and that a constant change from species to species, and from individual to individual, is taking place, regulated, in some mysterious way, by the law of retribution. This ingenious fancy, which has been called the doctrine of metempsychosis or transmigration, has been widely disseminated through the extensive regions of the East, and has given a very peculiar mould to the practices, and even to the moral character, of those who receive it.

A prouder and more metaphysical philosophy, which prevails in the same quarter of the world, has offered another solution of the question. All life, it is said by the followers of this sect, is but an emanation from the great fountain of existence,-a drop from the universal ocean of life. Death comes, and the emanation is absorbed,―the drop returns to the ocean, and mingles, undistinguished, with its parent element.

Another doctrine, well known, because associated with all our classical recollections, is that of Greece and Rome; which assigns to souls a separate state of existence in the infernal regions, where rewards and punishments are awarded, according to the good or evil deeds of a present life. The puerile fables, false morality, and fanciful traditions, which are mingled with this doctrine, tend to debase and render contemptible, what might otherwise be considered as the germ of a purer faith.

All that history records, or modern discoveries have

ascertained, of the belief of mankind on this subject of vital importance, tends to show the impotence of human reason; and shuts us up to the revealed word of God, as the only source of light and of hope regarding the future destiny of man. The soul survives the grave, but where does it go? What new forms of being does it assume? What conflicts and what triumphs are reserved for it? These are questions which curiosity, that powerful principle, unites with every selfish and every ennobling feeling of the human heart, to urge on the attention. And what is the answer which the Divine oracles return? Man is a sinner, and "the wages of sin is death." Such is the appalling response. And what is death? Not the separation of the soul from the body merely, but the separation of both soul and body from God for ever.

And is there no remedy? Not in the power of man, but in the grace and mercy of God. "God so loved the world, that he sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him might not perish, but have everlasting life." The incarnate Son of the Eternal God is our Saviour. He came to earth, and assumed our form and nature, that He might take away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. His own words are, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whosoever believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die."

Blessed assurance! But does it belong to all? No! It belongs only to believers. All else are excluded. What, then, is the portion of unbelievers? There is only one answer," Spiritual death." Their inheritance is, the undying worm, and the unquenchable fire. The offer of life has been freely made, and they have rejected it: It has been urged upon them by every motive, it has been enforced by every sanction, and yet they have rejected it. The means of grace, the warnings and lessons of Providence, in the varied occurrences of life, have all been employed in vain. They have chosen death, and have sealed their own doom.

But to you, who close with the offered redemption, it is not less secure than it is glorious in the means employed, and unspeakably gracious in the blessings bestowed. By the vicarious sufferings of the Son of God, sin is punished, and the sinner absolved; eternal justice is satisfied; and infinite holiness is reconciled. From the horrors of impending destruction, the guilty descendant of Adam is introduced to anticipations of everlasting life ; -the child of Satan has become an adopted child of God; -the heir of hell, a joint heir with Christ of the blessedness of heaven.

What, then, is death? It is to the Christian but the passing away of a feverish dream, and an awaking to the glorious realities of an endless and unclouded day. This at least it is, as far as regards his soul. But his body goes down to the grave, and, for all that we can perceive, is finally resolved into its native elements. Yet it is not So. A germ remains. It is like seed buried in winter, by the sower, beneath the sluggish soil, that it may undergo a mysterious change, and rise again to life, in a new season, under a more propitious sky. The spring of an eternal year will come. It will breathe on the dry bones, and they shall live. Then shall the soul be reunited to its material frame, sown a natural body, but raised a spiritual body;" and this mysterious re-union, which seems essential to the perfect happiness of human beings, will consummate the appointed period, when death, the last enemy, shall be "swallowed up in victory;" when time itself shall perish, along with the revolution of seasons; and when one vast, measureless, incomprehensible eternity, shall embrace all.

66

TENTH WEEK-MONDAY.

HYBERNATION. OF QUADRUPEDS-THEIR CLOTHING.

ONE obvious disadvantage arising from the change of climate from heat to cold, is the effect on the bodily

frame, which, at one season, is oppressed with the fervid rays of an almost vertical sun, and, at another, made to shiver under the biting blast of a wintry sky. It was not consistent with the plans of Providence for this fallen world, that this inconvenience should be altogether compensated for; but the contrivances by which it is alleviated, and rendered tolerable, are truly wonderful. One of the most familiar of these contrivances, is a change from summer to winter clothing.

Man is born naked, but his Creator has endowed him with rational powers, which enable him to procure a dress suited to the various climes in which he is destined to live, and to change it with the changing weather, or his altered residence. The lower animals, not being favoured with the high attribute of reason, have their wants, with respect to clothing, attended to in another way. Those which reside under the burning suns of the tropics, are remarkable for their covering of hair, and the total absence of wool; while animals of the very same species, when resident in colder countries, are found to be clothed with a warmer covering, which becomes still more abundant and woolly as we approach the Polar Regions. The remarkable change, in this respect, which takes place within a very limited distance, and under no very violent change of temperature, may be exemplified by comparing the strong and thin bristles of the Devonshire swine, with the furry coat of those of the Highland breed. As an instance of this beneficent law of Nature, in a more extensive range, we may take the sheep, whose covering, in the tropical regions, is a scanty coat of hair, which, on the alpine ranges of Spain, becomes a fine soft and silky wool; in the mainland of Britain, is changed into a fleece, coarser, indeed, but thicker, and better adapted to resist the vicissitudes of our changeable weather; in the Shetland Islands, undergoes another transformation, still more capable of resisting the cold; and, in Iceland, and other regions verging towards the Pole, acquires the character of a thick fur, interspersed with

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