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SERMON XVIII.

THE SPEECH OF THE DEAD.

OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF DEACON MOSES HALL

DELIVERED IN CHARLESTOWN, THE FIRST SAPMATH in Aug. 1826.

HEBREWS, XI. 4.

"And by it he, being dead, yet speaketh."

In this chapter St. Paul sets forth the power and unity of faith, and, in our text and its immediate connection, he suggests that Abel was enabled by the power of faith, to continue to speak, being dead.

As the apostle contrasted the works of Abel, which were the works of faith, with those of Cain, which were the works of unrighteousness, contending that the former spake although dead, we may justly infer that the latter also speaketh, though dead, but of facts as different from those testified by Abel, as were his works from those of his brother, whom he slew.

Abel, though dead, has not ceased, since the day his blood was poured out on the ground, to testify that the righteousness of faith meekly and patiently submits to, and suffers persecution, from the wisdom and spirit of the flesh; while on the other hand, Cain, though dead, has continued, from the fatal hour in which he rose up against his brother and slew him, to testify that the wisdom, the spirit, the doctrine and religion of the flesh are armed

against the wisdom, the spirit, the doctrine and religion of God our Saviour.

By attending to these testimonies, which were borne by the two first who were born in the world, we are enabled to discern the qualities of true and false religion, and by infallible marks to distinguish them. That religion which incites its votary to persecute a brother, is unrighteousness; and that religion, which, in room of rendering evil for evil, leads its votary to love his enemy, to do good for evil, and when suffering even the extremities of persecution, to pray for him whose hand is raised against him, is the righteousness of faith, which overcometh the world.

Ever since the smoke ascended from the altar, and the divine acceptance was manifested, the bloody hand of persecution has been lifted up, and from the fatal spot of earth which drank the blood of Abel, has proudly marched round the world, that haggard monster of religion, whose devotions are sacrilege, and whose tender mercies are cruelty. While in the humblest form of self-abasement and non-resistance, the righteousness of faith hath endured both scoffs and scourges, responding_to all the imprecations of infuriate enemies, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The persecuted and the persecutor both live for a testimony, they both die for a testimony, and they both continue to speak, though dead.

These remarks are designed to present the hearer with some idea of the sense expressed by the apostle in our text.

We may now, by way of accommodation, apply this portion of scripture more generally, and allow it to direct us, to an enquiry, concerning what is said to us, by our fellow creatures, who are dead.

All who die continue to speak to the living. Their language is solemn, weighty and impressive. Ty all testify alike to some important facts, to which it is our wisdom seriously to attend.

1. They all inform us that we must soon follow them.

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2. They tell us that their work, in the land of the living, is finished; and whether it was completed as they, in their last moments, could have wished, or not, they now have no opportunity of making any alteration. By this, their united and undisputed testimony, they warn the living so to manage their time, so to economise their concerns, and so to act on the stage of life, that after they die, their memory may speak such a language to the living, as while living they could wish.

3. The dead say to the living, wherein you have discharged, with faithfulness, your duty to us, you have occasion of self-approbation and of conscious peace, of which no worldy adversity can ever deprive you; but wherein you have come short of this duty, and wherein you have done us injustice, it is now too late to repair these wrongs. By this very solemn truth the living are admonished, by no means to add another instance of irreparable injustice or delinquency.

4. As the dead, who speak to the living, are of every age, and of every character, and of every attainment occupied by the living, they inform them that no age, no character or attainment, is security against the arrows of death.

5. The dead unite in their testimony to the living, that whatever imaginations they may indulge respecting the situation of man after death, and for whatever purposes such imaginations may be inculcated, no permission has been granted them to give to the living any information on the subject; by which they direct the living to adhere to the revealed truths of the gospel, through which life and immortality are brought to light.

Concerning the foregoing particulars all the dead speak one language. In other respects, different characters speak to the living of different things, according to the various stations which they occupied in life, according to their various

situations in time, and according to what has been their allotments in the land of the living.

Parents, have we been called to part with our little ones? Has the icy hand of death snatched precious delights from our arms? Hark! They, being dead, speak to us. They tell us not to mourn for them, but for the millions of little ones, whose innocence will soon be tarnished with the corruptions of error and sin, who are destined to tread the thorny and thistley paths of human life, and to face the tempestuous storms which more or less beat on all who live. They remind us of their angel sweetness, they awaken a recollection of tender affections, and they bedew our hearts with the consoling assurance that they are heirs to all which was indicated by the lover and Saviour of the world, when he took little children in his arms and blessed them, and announced, that "of such is the kingdom of heaven.'

Have any been called to follow sons or daughters, of maturer years, to the house appointed for all the living? Have you, in anguish, seen those lovely eyes, which were the delight of your own, grow dim in death? Has that heart, which was once warm with filial affection, become cold and motionless? Is the crutch, on which you hoped to lean in old age, broken just as you begin to totter with infirmity? Does that slowly moving hearse bear the widow's son before her? And is this, her last earthly hope now gone? Are the sighs, which the winds are bearing away, the sighs of despair? Hark! The dead speak! They cail the attention of their mourning parents to the testimony of the Saviour, in which he hath given assurance, that our heavenly Father's kindness is stronger and more pure than that which parents feel for their children. They remind the afflicted and bowed down with sorrow, that earthly affec tions are light, and but for a moment, when compared with that eternal weight of glory, which is reserved and secure among the unseen treasures

of eternity. Does not the speech of the dead remind the living not to lay up treasures on the earth, where moths and rusts corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; but in heaven, that where their treasures are, there their heart may be also?

To surviving brothers and sisters the dead speak of important and tender things. They call on them duly to regard the places they have left, and as far as possible to fill the vacancy. Do aged parents survive? Let the children who live double their duty to them, that they may be comforted; let them multiply favours to each other that the abcence of the deceased may be borne with less sorrow. Have they left companions or children? Here is an opportunity of continuing to do good to them who are here no more.

Companions, who mourn the loss of bosom friends, who look with pity on their fatherless or motherless children, should diligently listen to the voice of their departed companions. On the surviving companion and parent a double duty seems to devolve; and the dead seems to say to the liv ing, the mutual love and affection, which we have equally and faithfully borne for these dear images of our own, are now wholly lodged in your breast, and the numerous duties towards them, which I once delighted to share with you, are now all your own. Let my presence remain with you; ask yourself, what would have been my will, concerning our offspring, had I continued with you and them, and I charge you, by my sacred memory, to leave no means in your power unapplied, which may promote their good, and contribute to make them wise, virtuous and happy.

Do children mourn the loss of kind and tender parents? Do they lament their orphan condition? Let them be calm, and listen to the speech of their parents from the silent mansions of death.

Dearly beloved children, although the parental bosom, which was once warm with the tenderest

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