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gy shall be made evident in its proper place. But the passages in scripture, besides this, now under consideration, are very numerous and express, where the want of burial, when threatened, or inflicted, is represented as a curse and heavy judgment; which it could not be to the deceased, if the departed spirit were not sensible of, nay, were it not deeply affected with, the indignity shewn to the body.
To good men, indeed, this could be no grief, because they know, whatever the body suffers in life, or after death, it will be raised in glory. But the wicked, who have not that hope, cannot but look on the contempt, or indignities, offered to their bodies, as the earnest, or prelude, of those sufferings, which their bodies also shall be consigned to, when they are raised again at the last day. Besides, as all sense of the body, and root of perception, is in the soul, who knows what immediate sensation the soul hath of the insults, or in. juries, offered to its body, even after death, and after all its organs of sense are broken and destroyed ?
It is worth our remarking here, that this same denunciation is re. peated by the same prophet with a variety of expressions; and therefore, methinks it well becomes any one to insist upon it still a little more, particularly in imitation of so laudable and divine an example, with some variety of expression, in order, if possible, to make it have the deeper impression upon the minds of rational embodied creatures.
In chapter xxxvi. ver. 30, we have these alarming words offered to our meditation. Therefore, thus saith the Lord, of Jehoiakim, King of Judah, he shall have none to sit upon the throne of David, and his dead body shail be cast out in the day to the heat, and in the night to the frost. Allow me here to express myself with some degree of emotion. Alas! that those who call themselves Christians, and be. lieve their Bible to be the word of God, can read the very plainest and most open texts in it, and yet not make the necessary and obvi. ous reflections from them. For, if we reflect with any degree of attention, on these repeated threatenings of God against Jehoiakim for his impious malice to God's written word, that his body should be cast out in the day to the heat, and in the night to the frost, that is, be deprived of burial ; or, as above expressed, (chap. xxii.) be buri. ed with the burial of an ass, drawn and cast forth beyond the gates of Jerusalem, without any lamentation for him, or the least funeral so. lemnity; we may be assured, that the treatment our bodies shall meet with, after death, is not so indifferent a thing, as our modern sceptics pretend. Cast it, say they, where you please ; a ditch, a dunghill, a grave; it matters not. But here God himself denounces this very case, as a judgment, which should befall this wicked King, for one of the most enormous crimes, the cutting in pieces the roll, which conveyed God's message to him, and burning it in the fire, ver. 23; that after his decease, his body should be depriv. ed of burial, and lie exposed to the heat by day, and to the frost by night. It is true, as already observed, the body, when dead, is not sensible of such indignities ; but what must necessarily be inferred,
is, that the soul, in which existed all the principles of life and sense, survives the body, and consequently is affected with whatever is inflicted upon it, when it comes as a judgment from God; it being an earnest of those future torments, which it shall be doomed to undergo after its resurrection. The soul, which, in life, had placed its chief happiness in the pleasures and gratifications of sense, and knows it must be united to the body again, cannot but look on these beginnings of sorrow, and tokens of divine vengeance against it, with infinite horror and concern.
As for any indignities offered to the body after death, if they happen in the cause of God, and for his sake, it is not to be doubted but that it will be rather cause of joy to the soul; because a blessing is promised to all that suffer, and are persecuted for righteousness sake; and that therefore, when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, the body shall receive a greater and more exceeding weight of glory, for whatever it shall have endured for the sake of God and his truth.
It may teach us also the reverence that is due to all human bodies when dead, especially of Christians; whose bodies were dedicated in baptism to God, and were made the temples of the Holy Ghost; 1. Cor. iii. 16, 17; vi. 19, so that they are no longer ours, but his who purchased them with his blood, and sanctified them with his spirit. Whosoever, therefore, defiles these temples, while living, by sins of uncleanness, or, after death shall abuse them, by any indignity, or contemptuous usage, him shall God destroy. 'Tis a most heinous sacrilege, a profanation, which nature itself abhors, and the word of God most evidently condemns. We may therefore,' most assuredly conclude, that such sentiments as too many now-adays express in contempt of the body, when deceased, are not only rash and inconsiderate, but highly impious, and no small mark of infidelity, and a profane spirit.
[To be continued.) ** * POETRY.
On thy dear lap these limbs reclin'd THERE is a calm for those who weep, Shall gently moulder into thee; A rest for weary pilgrims found; Nor leave one wretched trace behind, They softly lie, and sweetly sleep,
Resembling me, Low in the ground. Hark! a strange sound aftrights my, The storm that wrecks the wintersky, ear, No more disturbs their deep repose My pulse, my brain runs wild ; I rave: Than summer ev’ning's latest sigh, Ah! who art thou, whose voice I hear? That shuts the rose.
“I am the grave. I long to lay this painful head . The grave, that never spake before, And aching heart, beneath the soil, Hath found at length atongue to chide: To slumber in the dreamless bed, O listen! I will speak no more; From all my toil.
Be silent, pride! For mis'ry stole me at my birth, Art thou a wretch, of hope forlorn And cast me helpless on the wild; The victim of consuming care? I perish : Oh, my mother earth! Is thy distracted conscience torn Take home thy child.
By fell dispair? Y Y
Do foul misdeeds of former times A nobler flame shall warm thy breast, Wring with remorse thy guilty breast? A brighter maiden's virtuous charms ! And ghosts of unforgiven crimes Blest shalt thou be, supremely blest, Murder thy rest ?
In beauty's arme. Lash'd by the furies of the mind, Whate'er thy lot, whoe'er thou be, From wrath and vengeance would'st Confess thy folly; kiss the rod; thou flee?
And in thy chastening sorrows see Ah! think not, hope not, fool! to find
The hand of God. A friend in me.
A bruised reed he will not break; By all the terrors in the tomb,
Afflictions all his children feel; Beyond the power of tongue to tell! He wounds them for his mercy's sake, By the dread secrets of my womd!
He wounds to heal ! By death and hell! Humbled beneath his mighty hand, I charge thee, live!_repent and pray, Prostrate his providence adore : In dust thy infamy deplore;
'Tis done! arise! He bids thee stand, There yet is mercy ;-go thy way,
To fall no more. And sin no more. Now, traveller in the vale of tears ! Art thou a mourner? Hast thou known To realms of everlasting light, The joy of innocent delights ?
Through time's dark wilderness of Endearing days forever flown,
years, And tranquil nights ?
Pursue thy fight. O live ! and deeply cherish still There is a calm for those who weep, The sweet remembrance of the past: A rest for weary pilgrims found; Rely on Heav'n's unchanging will And while the mouldering ashes sleep, For peace at last.
Low in the ground, Art thou a Wanderer? Hast thou seen The soul, of origin divine, O'erwhelming tempests drown thy God's glorious image free'd from clay, bark?
In Heaven's eternal sphere shall shine A shipwreck'd sufferer hast thou been
A star of day! Misfortune's mark?
The sun is but a spark of fire, Though long of winds and waves the A transient meteor in the sky; sport,
The soul, immortal as its sire Condemi'd in wretchedness to roam
Shall never die." Live! thou shalt reach a sheltering port,
A quiet home. THE ASCENSION, FROM CALVARY, To Friendship didst thou trust thy fame,
A POEM And was thy friend a deadly foe,
BY RICHARD CUMBERLAND. Who stole into thy breast, to aim WHEN lo ! ascending from the A surer blow?
mount he saw Live! and repine not o'er his loss, Christ in a cloud of glory on the wings A loss unworthy to be told:
Of mighty Cherubim upborne in air Thou hast mistaken sordid dross High soaring, to this orb terraqueous For friendship's gold.
Seen over-head diminish'd to a point, Go seek that treasure seldom found
Dim and opake amid the blue serene : Of power the fiercest griefs to calm,
His raiment, whiter than the new-born And sooth the bosom's deepest wound With heavenly balm.
Struck out of chaos by the Maker's In woman hast thou plac'd thy bliss,
band And did the fair one faithless prove, In earnest of creation, sparkling blaz'd Hath she betray'd thee with a kiss In its swift motion a
In its swift motion and with fiery track And sold thy love? Mark'd his ascent to earth ; the host Live! 'twas a false bewildering fire,
of Saints Too often love's insiduous dart With joyful loud hosannas fill'd the air: Thrills the food soul with sweet desire, Glory to God on high, was all their But kills the hoarts
On the earth, good-will to all man. With their last breath to be baptiz'd kind ?
and live ; Meanwhile the Arch-angel Gabriel, So shall the seed be water'd and in. who yet kept
crcase, His tutelary station on the mount, Till all the Gentile nations shall come in So bidd’n of Christ, with arm out. And dwell beneathe its branches ever. streth'd and voice
more. Commanding silence, thus the Saints Now are le gates of everlasting life bespake.
Set open to mankind, and when the Now is your resurrection sure, your Lord, joy,
Captain of their salvation, shall have Your glory and your triumph over Death
His promis'd term on earth, and thence And hell made perfect; for behold to heav'n where Christ
Ascending seat himself at God's right Your first-fruit is aris'n, and waves on
Then shall the Holy Ghost the Com. The ensign of redemption ; now he forter soars
Rush like a mighty wind upon the Up to yon pendant world, that darkling hearts speck,
Of his inspir'd apostles; tongucs of fire Which in the boundless empyrean And languages untaught they shall refloats
ceive Pois’d on its whirling axle ; there be To speak with boldness the revealed liv'd
word, And took your mortal body, there he Enduring all things for the Gospel's died
sake; And for your sakes endur'd the pain. Troubled on every side yet not disful cross,
tress'd, Giving his blood a ransom for your Perplex'd but not surrenderd to des. sins;
pair, Thither he goes to re-assume his flesh; Afflicted not forsaken they shall be, There, when his angel ministers have Cast down but not destroyed, knowing
that God, The sealed sepulchre, he shall come Who raised the Lord Jesus from the forth
dead, And shew himself resurgent from the Them also into life through him will grave
raise, To those whom he hath sanctified and And that the light affliction of this call'd
world, To be his witnesses in all the world, Which is but for a moment, soon shall And of his resurrection after death
be Their faithful evidence to seal with O'erpaid by a far more exceeding blood
weight Of martyrs and apostles, warning men of glory, eternal in the life to come.
FROM THE ORTHODOX CHURCHMAN'S MAGAZINE.
PREVIOUS to the description of the ceremonies of the holy sepulchre, it may be necessary for the reader to form some idea of the Church
The Church of the holy sepulchre is founded on Mount Calvary, which is a small eminence or hill upon the greater mount Moriah, and is about a hundred paces long, and sixty wide. The builders of this
Church were obliged to reduce the hill to a plain area, by cutting down several parts of the rocks and elevating others. But particular care was taken not to alter or diminish any of those parts of the hill which were more immediately concerned in our blessed Lord's passion. Thus that very part of Calvary, where they say Christ was fastened to, and lifted upon his cross, is left entire, being about ten or twelve yards square, and standing at this day so high above the common floor of the Church, that you have twenty-one steps or stairs to go up to its top. And the holy sepulchre itself which was at first a cave hewn into the rocks under ground, having had the rock cut awav from it, is now as it were a grotto above ground.
The Church is supposed to contain under its roof, twelve or thirteen sanctuaries, or places consecrated to a more than ordinary veneration, by being reported to have some particular action done in them relating to the death and resurrection of Christ ; and all are distinguished and adorned with so many several altars.
In galleries round about the Church, and also in little buildings on the outside, are certain apartments for the reception of friars and pilgrims; and in these places almost every Christian nation anciently maintained a small society of monks; each society having its proper quarter assigned to it by the appointment of the Turks. But the severe rents and extortions of the Turkish landlords have caused all at present to forsake their quarters except four, the Latins, Greeks, Arminians, and Cophtites.
Besides the several apartments, each fratermity have their altars and sanctuary properly and distinctly allotted to their own use. At which places they have a peculiar right to perform their divine ser. vices, and to exclude other nations from them.
But what has been the source of much unchristian fury, animos. ity, and bloodshed, is the command and appropriation of the holy sepulchre. And here our countryman Mr. Maundrell well observes, « Who can expect ever to see these holy places rescued from the hands of infidels? or if they should be recovered, what deplorable contests might be expected to follow about them, seeing even in the present state of captivity, they are made the occasion of such unchristian rage and animosity !"
However, at the French King's intercession with the Grand Vi. zier in 1685, the holy sepulchre was appointed to the Latins, who alone have now a privilege to say mass in it, and solemnize any public office of religion.
The Latins, of whom there are always about ten or twelve resid. ing at the Church, with a president over them, make every day a solemn procession, with tapers and crucifixes, and other professionary solemnities, to the several sanctuaries, singing at every one of them a Latin hymn, relating to the subject of each place. But their grand ceremony, concerning which we are to treat, begins on GoodFriday night, which they call nor tenebrosa, the black night. A particular description of which will, we doubt not, afford much cntertainment to our readers.