exalted their affections, while "his doctrine dropped as rain, and his speech distilled as the dew!" Great abilities are often allied to pride, out the character of the deceased was an illustrious exception to this rule. His talents and virtues were in some measure concealed from the world, and almost entirely from himself, by a veil of the most unaffected modesty. He was never so happy as when he was permitted to sit in the shade, though the high opinion entertained of his abilities seldom allowed him that indulgence. It would be difficult to conceive a human mind more completely purged from the leaven of pride or of envy than was that of our deceased friend. In this particular his magnanimity was so great that he seemed on all occasions desirous of sinking the recollection of himself in the reputation and applause of his contemporaries. To cultivate the seeds of reflection and improvement in the minds of his inferiors,-to behold the growing talents and virtues of his brethren, to draw merit from its obscurity, and give confidence to timid worth,-formed some of the highest satisfactions of his life.

His temper was grave and contemplative, yet few men took greater delight in Christian society; and on these occasions he seldom failed to mix with serious converse a vein of pleasantry and humour, in which he greatly excelled. From his integrity and knowledge, it may be inferred he was eminently skilled for imparting advice; yet so carefully did he shun every inclination to dictate, that he scarcely ever gave it unsolicited. His sentiments, when required, he imparted with tenderness and freedom; but he never made advice a disguise for arrogance, or an engine of rule, nor ever presumed to think himself affronted if his counsels were not followed. In his whole deportment, prudence and humility were conspicuous; a prudence, however, that was candid and manly, as far removed from art as his humility was from meanness. He had failings, no doubt, (for who is free?) but they were scarcely ever suffered to influence his conduct, or to throw even a transient shade over the splendour of his character. Upon the whole, if a strong and penetrating genius, simplicity of manners, integrity of heart, fidelity in friendship-and all these virtues consecrated by piety the most ardent and sincere on the high altar of devotion -have any claim to respect, the memory of the deceased will long be cherished with tears of admiration and sorrow by those who knew him.

A a 2

FUNERAL ORATION,

Delivered at the Interment of the Rev. HABAKKUK CRABB, of Royston, in Hertfordshire, on the 1st of January, 1795.*

AMONG the many appearances which man presents to the view of a contemplative mind, death is one of the most extraordinary. Whatever be the station he has filled, and however he has conducted himself in it, whether he has adorned it by virtue or degraded it by vice,— whether he has passed obscurely through the world, or filled it with the fame of his actions, he soon disappears, and the "place which once knew him knows him no more." Over all the sons of Adam death hath reigned. The worthy and beneficent are embalmed by the tears of tender but transient regret. The chasm their departure has occasioned in society is filled up by their successors, who tread the same circle of life and death, and thus perpetuate the established order of the universe.

But though the grave terminates the business of life, it does not terminate the inquiries of the living. Whether the whole of existence is comprised within the present life, or whether it be merely a passage into an unseen state, is a question which has engaged the attention of men in every age; nor would it be possible (were it ever so proper) to detail within the limits of this address the various reasonings and conjectures to which it has given occasion. When we contemplate death under its sensible appearances-the destruction of the external organs, and the corruption of the whole mass-we are tempted to regard it as the extinction of being, and to suppose its effects upon the human race are the same as upon the inferior orders of creatures. Whatever has been the object of the senses in both, is reduced to putrefaction and dust. But when again we recollect in how many important respects we are distinguished above the brutes, we cannot help indulging higher expectations, and looking for a nobler destiny. Our superior comprehension of mind qualifies us for a longer duration of being. While the brute is capable of enjoying little more than the present moment, the remembrance of what is past, and the anticipation of what is to come, enable us to multiply our resources, and to diffuse our existence, if I may so speak, over a larger surface. To compare one state of being with another, to learn wisdom from experience, and to regulate our future expectations by what has already occurred, are employments congenial

* This first appeared in the Introduction to a volume of Mr. Crabb's posthumous Sermons, published in 1795.-ED.

with the human mind. But it is evident that a creature possessed of
such faculties will be capable of continually making new acquisitions
of knowledge, and of advancing nearer and nearer to perfection.
Among all the tribes of creatures with which we are acquainted,
man is the only one that appears to have any dread of annihilation, or
How shall we account for
the remotest conception of another state.

the universal prevalence of these sentiments, in spite of all the sen-
sible appearances of death, unless they are either the vestige of some
How is it that
early revelation or the incorrupted dictate of nature?
we are the only beings that extend their anxieties beyond the grave;
that we are so reluctant to quit the present scene; and that, when we
are at length compelled to depart, we grasp at the very shadow of
immortality, and console ourselves with the hope of surviving in the
regrets of our friends and the reputation of our actions?

Though there seems to be much plausibility in these topics, it must be confessed the best arguments for a future state are derived from the moral part of our nature; or, in other words, from our capability of good and ill desert. For since it is plain that God has made us moral agents, and placed us under a law, we may be assured he has not made us so in vain, but that he will call us to an account for our actions; and, as there is no exact distribution of rewards and punishments in this life, we are entitled to expect another suited to the respective characters of men and the moral attributes of the Deity. If, after all, we consider actual opinions on this head, we shall find the wisest among the heathen were far from attaining any certainty. When they gave scope to their feelings and their hopes, they sometimes painted the elysian abodes of the virtuous in the warmest colouring of eloquence; in their cooler moments they subsided into skepticism; so that, on the whole, the idea of a future state seems to have operated not so much as a fixed principle as a vague presentiment.

Revelation can alone boast of having "brought life and immortality to light." The religion of Jesus Christ places the reality of a future state at the foundation of its truths. It is there so constantly reverted to, so often repeated, and so solemnly enforced, that it has never been by any class of Christians disputed or denied. Nor is the reality only of a future state revealed in Christianity: as far as is consistent with the present limitation of our faculties, it affords us the justest views of its nature; which it makes to consist, not in sensual gratifications or festive bowers-the visions of a Mahometan paradise,—but in enjoyments the most suited to the rational and immortal mind; a union with God, the knowledge of his perfections, and the eternal fruition of his love. The information which Christianity imparts on these subjects is not conveyed in dark and symbolical expressions, or in a chain of philosophical reasoning; but in a manner the most perspicuous and popular. With what majestic simplicity does our Lord assure us of the resurrection of the just!"I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never

die." "This is the will of him that sent me, that every one which believeth on the Son may have everlasting life, and I will raise him up at the last day." When many of the disciples of our Lord went back, and walked no more with him, being offended with the sublime mysteries of his doctrine, he took occasion to ask his twelve apostles, "Will ye also go away?" To which Peter, in the name of them all, made this reply, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." In this short answer we behold the distinguished lustre of Christianity. It explains at once the ground of a rational attachment to it, and will be sufficient to justify its profession from the reproach of folly, however mysterious its doctrines, however arduous its duties, and however painful or costly its sacrifices.

There are two purposes connected with the present solemnity to which the doctrine of immortality ought to be applied. The first regards the regulation of life; the second, the inspiring us with fortitude in the contemplation of our own deaths, and those of our relatives and friends. If we consider ourselves as candidates for an eternal state of happiness, it becomes us to regard life, with all its vicissitudes, as a probationary state, and to look upon every thing that is not directly or indirectly conducive to our eternal welfare as foreign to our purpose, and undeserving our pursuit. Heavenlynindedness is, in this view, as much the dictate of reason as of Scripture. It is nothing more than the placing our affections where we expect our felicity; the wisdom of preferring the end to the means -that which is permanent to that which is transitory. Let the men of the world, who disbelieve the declarations of the gospel respecting eternal realities, lead a life, if they please, of dissipation and vice; but for a professor of religion to confine his affections to the earth is equally impious and absurd. Distracted between his inordinate attachment to the present, and his apprehension of a future world, his religion, if it will bear that name, must be a constant source of disquietude. He has neither the calmness of insensibility, nor the triumph of faith. His prevailing regard to the interests of the present life renders it impossible for him to set his affections on a better state; while the carnal and reluctant glances he is compelled to take of that state are sufficient to imbitter his enjoyments and disturb his repose.

The misery which persons of this description suffer from an inward conflict between principle and practice, is the chief reason that has induced superficial observers to represent Christianity as a gloomy, melancholy system. There is no other foundation for this charge than that its claims are grand and extensive; that it disdains a compromise with the corrupt attachments of the heart; and that they who will not allow it the dominion of their affections will find it the troubler of their thoughts.

Whoever lives under the habitual influence of those tempers which qualify us for heaven, derives from his view of the eternal world the purest serenity and delight. In the midst of the severest disappointments of human life, secret consolations spring up in his mind, which sometimes swell into rapture, disarm the world of its terrors, and afford

him a prelibation of unutterable bliss. In vain will ye look elsewhere for true magnanimity and moral grandeur. It is religion alone which both animates and softens the heart, cherishes sensibility, instils fortitude, and enables us to triumph without extravagance, and to suffer without dejection.

If the Scripture doctrine of immortality is entitled to so much weight in the regulation of LIFE, its influence is not less sovereign in dispelling the terrors of DEATH, and consoling us under the loss of our dearest friends and relatives. "I would not have you be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not as others who have no hope; for, if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and the trump of God. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; so shall we be ever with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words." And who can fail being penetrated with the divine consolation they afford? If ever Christianity appears in its power, it is when it erects its trophies on the TOMB; when it takes up its votaries where the world leaves them, and fills the breast with immortal hope in dying moments.

Nor are the words I have quoted adapted to support the mind of a Christian in the view of his own dissolution only; they administer the firmest support amid the breaches which death is continually making in the church of Christ. A degree of sorrow, on such occasions, nature compels us to feel, and religion does not condemn. At the decease of Lazarus, while his sisters were lamenting his loss," Jesus wept." But the sorrow which a Christian feels in such situations is mingled with hope. By the light of faith, he traces his deceased friends into an eternal world. Instead of considering them as lost or extinct, he beholds them still under the eye of Divine Providence. The period of their trial is closed: they have entered into rest, where, sheltered from the storms of life and the dangers of temptation, their happiness is for ever fixed and unalterable. Their separation is neither final nor complete. The pious living and the pious dead are still one family, under one Head; and, when he "who is their life shall appear, they shall appear together with him in glory." The friendships which have had virtue and religion for their basis will survive all human ties, outlive the habitable globe, and form, in all probability, a principal part of the happiness of the blessed.

It is not unusual, I am aware, on occasions like these to pass high encomiums on the character of the deceased; a mode of proceeding the less requisite in the present instance, as the character of Mr. Crabb was too well established, and held in too high esteem, to have any thing to hope from praise, or to fear from censure. His mild and gentle spirit rendered it nearly impossible for him to have any enemies. The innocence and sanctity of his behaviour, the sensibility of his heart, the fidelity with which he discharged the duties of life, and the equanimity with which he bore its rebukes and sufferings, will leave a