THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ORATION, DELIVERED AT THE GRAVE OF The Rev. SAMUEL PEARCE. WE are called together to-day upon a most Our business solemn and affecting occasion. here is, to convey the precious remains of a dear departed brother to his long home, to the house appointed for all living. The subject of our present contemplation is of no ordinary kind; it is that which ought to come home to every man's bosom, because it is that in which we are all interested. It is not like many other subjects, which, while some are materially affected by them, to others they are articles of total indifferency but death speaks in an imperious tone, and demands the attention of all. DEATH! solemn sound! the bare annunciation of which, should arrest the mind of every individual in this numerous assembly. Where is the man that liveth and shall not see death? When Xerxes viewed his incalculable army, it is said, he wept, from the consideration that in a few years, not one of that prodigious host would be living. Whether the Persian really wept or not, I am not sure; but when I consider, that in a few, comparatively a very few years, not one of all whom I am now addressing but must be laid as low as the breathless corpse of our dear departed brother, I feel my mind deeply affected. And, O that I could but awaken a due concern in every bosom about this truly momentous subject! Thus stands the irrevocable decree of the immutable God-IT IS APPOINTED UNTO ALL MEN ONCE TO DIE. The wise and unwise, the patrician and plebian, the monarch and the beggar, must submit alike to the strong arm of this universal conquer or, the king of terrors. A consideration like this should sink deep into every man's heart; but alas! man is a strange being, loth to learn what most intimately belongs to him. The most awful things lose their effect by their frequency; and hence it is, that the death of a fellow-creature is, in general, no more regarded than " the fall of an autumnal leaf in the pathless desert." Wretched apathy! Fatal insensibility! Let us for a moment meditate upon the effects subsequent to the triumph of the last enemy. What melancholy ravages does he make, even in this world! He causes the fairest flower to wither, often in the morning; he stains the pride of all sublunary glory; and casts the noblest work of. God into the dust. When he takes to himself his great power, none can stay his hand. Fixed in his purpose, and irresistible in the execution of the same, he stalks, untouched by the pangs of agonizing nature; the distress of helpless infancy; the poignant grief of paternal affection; or the bitterest sorrows of connubial love. Relentlessly he breaks in upon domestic happiness; frustrates the most benevolent designs; and costs a dark shade upon the brightest prospects. In fine, cruelty marks his footsteps; and desolation and anguish are his common attendants. If we look beyond the scene which presents itself to our view in this life; and, by the aid of revelation, endeavour to substantiate the serious realities of death, beyond "that bourne from whence no traveller returns !” If we look into the eternal world, and there behold what follows death, surely we cannot remain unmoved. Man is a mortal; it is the flesh only that dies; The spirit is incorruptible. Hence death is the most eventful period. The body returns to dust; but the spirit ascends to God; and enters then upon its eternal state. But the state of all men is not alike beyond the grave-The wicked is driven away in his wickedness. The guilty sinner then knows, that it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Guilt subjects him to the divine displeasure; and moral depravity unfits him for that place, into which nothing that defileth can possibly enter. Fearful moment! All his hopes are now like a spider's web; his imaginary refuges fail; and the wrath of God "beats upon his naked soul, in one eternal storm." The rich man in LUKE xvi. can tell us all about it. He died and was buried; and in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torment. And thus will it happen to all, who know not God. He that made them will have no mercy on them; whatever their respective situation may have been in this life. Death, that mighty leveller, will reduce them all to a sad equality. He that fared sumptuously every day, had not a drop of water to cool his burning tongue, when once he had passed the tremendous gulf. How different the estate of a good man! The righteous hath hope in his death. The day of his death is infinitely better than the day of his birth: It is his coronation day; the final close of all his troubles. He shall sorrow no more. Whatever he underwent in passing through this vale of tears; however numerous and severe his trials, they are all over. The Lamb in the midst of the throne shall feed him. He shall eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the paradise of God. He A a more out enters upon his rest, and shall go no forever. He is happy, as God is happy; and saved with an everlasting salvation. We have Here Thus death is always a solemn, and affecting event but sometimes, circumstances render it peculiarly so and this is now the case. conveyed no common mortal to the grave. lies the cold, the exanimated clay of a good man; of an eminently good man; a faithful, highly favored minister of the glorious Gospel of the blessed God. When a good man dies, it is a common loss; thus the Psalmist viewed it. Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth! The death of such a man, is a national loss, for "the strength of empire is religion." Righteousness exalteth a nation. Good men are the salt of the earth. It is particularly a loss to the cause of God on earth: there is one laborer less in the vineyard; one watchman less upon the walls of Jerusalem. The death of that good man, whom we are now bewailing, is a great loss to the churches of Christ. His ardent love for the whole truth; his flaming zeal; his chaste conversation will be long remembered by many. But you, my brethren, who compose the Church and Congregation in this place, you have had a great breach made upon you; a breach that cannot easily be repaired. You have lost a valnable minister; a man, who labored hard for your eternal good; a man, whose grand aim was to make you happy forever. You know how frequently he has warned you to flee from the wrath to come; how plainly he has pointed you to the Lamb of God, as the only sacrifice for your sins. Yes, ye are witnesses how he has prayed for you, and wept over you. You have often heard him raise, within these walls, his charming voice, in publishing glad tidings to Zion. This night, welve months, the place that I am now occupying, was occupied by him. This very night twelve Rev. Samuel months, you heard the Gospel in this very place from his mouth. But it is all over; you shall hear his voice, you shall see his face no more. There lies all that could die of a good man; a faithful minister; a tender father; and an affectionate husband. His lips are closed in silence; and along night hangs upon his eyes. Dust is returning to dust; and corruption already commences its ri ot. Painful as the stroke has been to you, there are those, on whom it has fallen with greater severity. You may be provided with another minister; but who can make up the loss to his bereaved family? Who can restore him to the deeply afflicted partner of his life? Who like him, can soothe her sorrows, and cheer her on the rugged path of time? Who can restore the fond father, to five dear helpless babes? Cruel death! Inexorable monster ! What hast thou done?-But the Lord reigneth, and we will be still. The present dispensation is not only solemn and affecting, but it is likewise alarming. It has a loud voice not to attend to it, would be highly criminal. It speaks to us all. Death always speaks loudly; but some deaths louder than oth ers. The present speaks loud enough to be heard BY THIS CHURCH AND CONGREGATION. Methinks, with strong emphasis, it now saith UNTO YOU, O MEN OF THIS PLACE, I CALL. You have had a great loss; but is there not a cause? God forbid that I should charge the death of your minister upon you! Yet I know it is possible for a people to murder their minister; and that by the most cruel means. There needs neither the poison nor the dagger; it may be done effectually without either. I hope it is quite inapplicable; but it may not be altogether useless, to ask, Are there none of you, who have pierced him through with many sorrows? Has his heart never been wrung |