The Permanence of Love

Charity never faileth.”

Permanence is the climax of excellence. How often has the sigh been heaved, and the tear been shed, over the perishable nature of earthly possessions. Their transient duration presented a painful contrast to their great worth, and extorted the sorrowful exclamation, Alas! that such excellence should be mortal! The charm of beauty soon fades, the force of genius is at length exhausted, the monuments of art decay; an incurable taint of corruption has infected every thing earthly, and even religion itself does not confer immortality upon every thing that belongs to its sacred economy. One thing there is, which shall remain for ever, for “charity never faileth;” and its permanence is the crown and glory of all its other noble qualities. It is a truly immortal disposition, — bearing no exclusive relation to earth or to time, but destined to pass away from the world with the souls in which it exists, to dwell in heaven, and flourish through eternity.

When it is said that it never faileth, we are not merely to understand, that being once planted in the soul, it remains there as the centre and support of all the other practical virtues: that it will so remain, is unquestionable, for its continuance is essential to the existence of personal and social religion. A man may change his opinions on some subjects — he may give up some sentiments once believed by him to be truth; but he cannot give up love, without ceasing to be a Christian.

Nor does the Apostle mean that it remains as the spirit of Christianity till the end of time, amidst every change of external administration: that it shall so abide is unquestionable. The genius of piety is unchangeable. This was the temper obligatory upon the primitive Christian; it is obligatory upon us; and it will be no less so upon every future generation. A holier and happier age is in reserve for the Church of Christ; “compared with which, invisible though it be at present, and hid behind the clouds which envelope this dark and troubled scene, the brightest day that has yet shone upon the world is midnight, and the highest splendours that have invested it the shadow of death:” but this glory shall consist in a more perfect and conspicuous manifestation of the grace of love. It is in this, combined with a clearer perception of the truth, that the Christians of the Millennium will surpass those of every preceding age.

But the Apostle’s reference is evidently to another world: his eye was upon heaven, and he was looking at things unseen and eternal, when he said that “charity never faileth.” He was then soaring on the wing of faith, and exploring the scenes of eternity, among which he saw this celestial plant, surviving the dissolution of the universe, outliving the earthly state of the church, transplanted to the paradise of God, and flourishing in the spirits of just men made perfect near the fountain of light and love.

To give still greater emphasis to what he says of its continuance, he contrasts it with some things, which, however highly valued by the Corinthian believers, were of a transient duration, and, therefore, of greatly inferior value to this.

“Whether there be prophecies, they shall faiV^ By prophecies here, we are to understand inspired interpretation of the Scriptures; all new revelations from God, by oral or written communication, for the instruction and edification of the saints. These, so far from belonging to the heavenly state of the church, did not survive its primitive ages. The gift of inspiration was soon withdrawn, the oracle of prophecy was hushed, and all further responses from heaven were denied.

“Whether there he tongues, they shall cease.^^ This, of course, refers to the miraculous power of speaking any language without previous study. This gift also ceased with the other extraordinary endowments of the primitive ages, and bears no relation to the heavenly world! Whether the communication of ideas in the celestial state will be carried on by speech, is, at present, unknown to us; if it be so, what the language will be is beyond conjecture.

“Whether there he knoioledge, it shall vanish away.^”* This expression most probably refers to what is called, in the preceding chapter, “the word of knowledge;” and of which the Apostle speaks in the beginning of this chapter — “Though I understand all mysteries, and all knowledge, and have not love, I am nothing.” It means an inspired knowledge of the types, predictions, and mysteries, of the Old Testament, and of their accomplishment by the facts of the Christian economy. This, also, was among the signs and wonders which were to vanish away; which, having been granted as attestations to the divine authority of the word of God, and for the edification of the church, were discontinued when the canon of Scripture was completed and settled.

Some extend the Apostle’s reasoning so far, as to include every kind of our present knowledge; which, as to its imperfect attainments, and inadequate mediums, and present modes of communication, shall be removed, and give place to a more easy and perfect method of acquiring truth, and a more entire comprehension of its nature and relations.

As to the knowledge of the arts of the practical sciences and of literature, this shall be lost and forgotten, as utterly useless, and as bearing no relation whatever to the celestial state. Ye master spirits, ye commanding geniuses, ye lordly minds, who exhaust the force of your intellect, and lavish its treasures upon themes of mere earthly interest, — see here the termination of all your labours. Scholars, poets, painters, sculptors, warriors, ye who assemble in the temple of fame, amidst the mightiest productions of human skill, to pay homage to each other, to receive the admiration of the world, and to immortalize your names, — gi’ing to your mighty works the full measure of their value, in reference to earth and to time, — admitting that, in this view, they are bright scenes in the history of man; yet still, in reference to heaven and its eternity, they are nothing — less than nothing — and vanity. Not an angel would turn to gaze upon the noblest production of human imagination, nor will a plea be put in by a single inhabitant of heaven, to exempt from the destruction of the last fire the sublimest specimens of human skill. Myriads of volumes have been already lost and forgotten; myriads more are on their way to oblivion; myriads still shall rise, only to vanish; — and of all the accumulations that shall have been made by the time of the Millennium, and which shall have been going on through the longest and the purest age of reason — not one shall be saved from the general conflagration, as worthy to be borne to the heavenly world. “Knowledge shall vanish away.”

But not only shall the knowledge contained in the scientific, and literary, and imaginative, productions of men vanish, together with the volumes by which it was circulated; but all theological works, — our creeds, our catechisms, our articles of faith, our bodies of divinity, our works of biblical criticism, our valued, — and justly valued, commentaries, — our sermons, and our treatises.

—all shall vanish. The knowledge we gain from these sources is not that which will attend us to the skies, and be sufficient for us when we have arrived at the region of cloudless splendour, the element of wisdom, the native land, and dwelling-place of truth.

The introduction of this idea, by the Apostle, has given occasion for one of the most striking digressions from his tract of thought which he ever made. His argument only required him to state that love is better than the gift of knowledge, because the latter shall cease; but he proceeds to show why it shall cease, and ascribes its continuance to its imperfection: he then takes an opportunity to draw one of the most sublime contrasts to be found in the Word of God, between our knowledge in the present world, and our more perfect comprehension of truth in the world that is to come.

And why shall knowledge vanish away 1 because

‘* We know in part, and T?e prophesy in part.”

A part only of truth is made known, and, therefore, a part only is received by us. This may imply that there are many things ive do not know at all. Who can doubt this ] Upon the supposition that we were perfectly acquainted with all that is proper to be known, all that could be acquired by the aid of reason and the discoveries of revelation, still we should hear a voice, saying to us, “Lo, these are a part of his ways, but the thunder of his power who can understand 1” There are, doubtless, truths of vast importance and of deep interest, which have never yet approached, and, in the present world, never will approach, the horizon of the human understanding. There are paths in the region of truth which the viiiture’s eye has not seen, and which are hid from the view of all living.

When, on his death-bed, the great Newton was congratulated upon the discoveries he had made, he replied, with the modesty usually attendant on vast attainments, “I have been only walking on the shores of truth, and have, perhaps, picked up a gem or two, of greater value than others; but the vast ocean itself lies all before me.” This is strictly correct in reference to the material universe, to which the remark was intended to apply. Of natural truth, the ocean, with its depths, its islands, and the continents and kingdoms to which it leads, is all before us. We have only looked upon the surface, and seen some of the objects passing upon it: we have only seen a few land-marks, on one part of one of its shores; but the infinitude of its ample space, and the innumerable objects which that space contains, are yet to be explored. And with respect to the spiritual world, although we possess, in the volume of inspiration, a revelation of the most sublime, important, and interesting objects of knowledge; yet, probably, there are truths of which, after all that divines and philosophers have written, we can form no more conception, than we can of the objects of a sixth sense, or than a blind man can of colours. “We know only in part.”

It is implied also, that what we do know, we know but imperfectly. In some cases, our knowledge is uncertainty, and amounts only to opinion: faith is weak, and mixed with many doubts. We cannot exultingly exclaim, “I know;” we can scarcely say, “I believe.” The object sometimes presents itself to our mind, like the sun seen dimly through a mist, — now appearing, and then lost again, in the density of the fog. Now a truth comes upon us, in a thin and shadowy form; we think we see it, but it is again obscured. We only see glimmerings. We perceive appearances, rather than demonstrations; dark outlines, not perfect pictures.

And where no doubt undermines the certainty of our knowledge, what narrow limits bound its extent! We walk, as through a valley shut hi on each side by lofty mountains, whose tops are lost amidst the clouds, whose shadows add to the obscurity of our situation, and whose mighty masses stand between us and the prospect which lies beyond. How imperfect and limited is our knowledge of the great God — of the spirituality of his nature — of his necessary self-existence from eternity — of his triune essence! How feeble are our conceptions of the complex person of Christ, the God-man Mediator; of the scheme of providence, embracing the history of our world, and of all other worlds; and of the connexion between providence and redemption! How have divines and philosophers been perplexed on the subject of the entrance of moral evil; on the agreement between divine prescience, and the freedom of the human will; between moral inability, and human accountability! How much obscurity hangs, in our view, over many of the operations of nature! how soon do we arrive at ultimate laws, which, for aught we can tell, may be only effects of causes that are hidden from our observation! In what ignorance do we live, of many of the most common occurrences around us. Who has perfect ideas of the essences of things, separate and apart from their qualities — of matter, for instance, or spirit] Who can perfectly conceive how the idea of motion results from that of body, or how the idea of sensation results from that of spirit ] On what theme shall we meditate, and not be mortified to find how little progress we can make before we are arrested by insurmountable difficulties ] On what eminence shall we take our stand, and to what part of the horizon direct our eye, and not see clouds and shadows resting like a veil upon the prospect ] How truly is it said, “We know but in part.” Angels must wonder at the limitation of our ideas; and disembodied spirits must be astonished at the mighty bound they make, by that one step which conducts them across the threshold of eternity.

The Apostle illustrates the present imperfection of our knowledge, compared with its future advancement, by two similitudes. The first is, the difference between the ideas of a child and those of a man. “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” The meaning of Paul in this verse is, — that our knowledge in the heavenly state will be as different from, and as superior to, any thing we gain on earth, as the ideas of an adult, in the maturity of his intellectual powers, are to those which he entertained when he was a child. Our knowledge, at present, is that of children; we are not only in the minority, but in the infancy, of our minds. Our notions, are the opinions of children; our discourses are the lispings of children; our controversies the reasonings of children. The prodigious attainments of those great luminaries, Bacon, Milton, Boyle, Locke, Newton; and in the science of theology, of those great divines, Owen, Howe, Charnock, Baxter, Bates, Butler, Hooker; — all these are but the productions of children, written for the instruction of others less taught than themselves. Yea, the Apostle includes himself and his writings in the description — “We know in part, and we prophesy in part. When / was a child, / spake as a child; but when / became a man, / put away childish things.” He alludes to his own childish conceits, and puerile simplicity, which had given way to the matured knowledge of his riper years: and, by implication, declares his expectation, that the knowledge which he should gain in the celestial state would be as much above his present views, as they were beyond those which he entertained when he was a child. Yes: that greatest of mere men — that illustrious individual who had been in the third heaven — who had explored, as we imagine, some of the secrets of the unseen world — who had fathomed so much of the depth, measured so much of the height, of truth; even he tells us, that he was but in his minority. What an idea does it give us of the infinitude of knowledge yet to be obtained, when we are informed that the Bible itself, even the New Testament — that book of books, the work of which it is said, it has God for its author, truth without any mixture of error for its contents, and salvation for its end — is but a book for children, a work for saints in their infancy, a mere elementary treatise on the subject of eternal truth, written by the finger of God, for his family, during their education and novitiate on earth.

The second similitude, by which the present imperfection of our knowledge is set forth, is that very partial acquaintance which we gain with material objects, by looking at them through a glass. “Now we see through a glass, darkly.”

Considerable diversity of opinion prevails as to the precise object of the Apostle’s allusion in the expression which he here employs. It is admitted that the word in the original literally signifies a mirror; and hence most expositors consider that the comparison is to this article, and that his meaning is, that our knowledge of divine truth in this world, is only of that partial kind which we gain by seeing objects reflected from a mirror. But does this accord with his design, which is to represent the obscurity of our present ideas, compared with what we shall know hereafter, when that which is perfect is come 1 The knowledge we gain of an object that is reflected from a highly polished surface is too accurate to furnish such a comparison. Hence some are of opinion, — and this is the view I take, — that the allusion is to those semi-transparent substances, such as horn and diaphanous stones, which were used in windows before glass was known, and through which objects would be but very dimly seen. Nothing could better accord with the Apostle’s purpose than this. How dim and shadowy do those forms appear, which we discover through such a medium: we discern only the mere out’- line; every thing is seen imperfectly, and many things connected with the object are not seen at all. “We see it through a glass, darkly.” The term rendered “darkly” signifies an enigma, a riddle, a form of speech in which one thing is put for another; which, though in some respects like it, is but an obscure representation, and calculated to puzzle those who are required to find out the thing which is thus darkly shadowed forth.

Here it may be proper to inquire why divine truth is at present involved in so much comparative darkness.

It is designed to accord with the analogy of faith. We are to walk by faith, which is not only opposed to the the testimony of sense, but is distinguished also from the clearness and certainty of perfect knowledge.

It comports also with the purpose of a divine revelation. There is no doubt but that some of the clouds which envelope the subjects of revealed truth could have been dissipated, and many things put in a still clearer light. A studied caution, a designed reserve, is maintained in some places; for as the Bible is given to be a test of moral disposition, the evidence should be sufficient to demand belief, without being enough to compel it. The Bible affords us light enough to assist us in discharging the duties of this world, and to guide us to glory, honour, immortality, and eternal life; but it concedes nothing to curiosity — nothing to a spirit of restless inquiry. It stands like a waymark on the high road to eternity, and is intended simply to announce what is truth, and the way to its dweUing-place, but not to make known to the traveller all the details of the city to which he is journeying.

And, in another view, this obscurity is absolutely necessary. If the disclosure were, more obscure, it would be beyond our apprehension; we could know nothing; and, in that case, religion could have no existence, or exist only as the blind offspring of ignorance. If it were more cloudy and shadowy, it would have no power to arrest attention or interest the heart: it might, indeed, point to a brighter state, where it would throw off the dense covering in which it had enwrapped itself on earth; but too little of the beauty of truth would be seen to captivate our affections, and to allure us to follow her to that world where she displays her unveiled glories: but as revelation is now given to us, enough of the beauty of truth is seen, to inspire us with a pure affection — enough is concealed, to make us long to see her face to face. And were all the knowledge that it is possible for us to receive actually communicated to us, loho, amidst such acquisitions, could attend to the low pursuits of ordinary affairs? The immediate effect of such a disclosure would be to produce, so far as real Christians are concerned, a total stagnation of the affairs of this life. All the studies and pursuits, the arts and the labours, which now employ the activity of man — which support order, or promote happiness, — would lie neglected and abandoned. It is necessary that something of the magnitude of truth should be concealed — something of its effulgence softened — something of its beauty veiled, — or the holy mind of the Christian, absorbed in such a vision, would find all that is important in life utterly insignificant, and all that is attractive tasteless and insipid. Disturbed in his lofty meditations, and interrupted in his ecstasies, by the din of business, and the obtrusion of low, grovelling cares, and judging that scenes of secular activity unfitted him for communion with this heavenly visitant, — he would retire from the social haunts of men, to converse with truth in the solitude of the hermitage or the silence of the desert. So necessary is it to hang a veil on the too dazzling brightness of divine subjects.

This partial obscurity is also necessary, on account of the feebleness and limited extent of our faculties. Our minds could no more bear to look upon the unmitigated glory of divine truth, than the eye of an infant could sustain the unsoftened effulgence of the mid-day sun. Our minds cannot grasp, in its full extent, one single subject out of all the mighty theory. Some vague idea may be formed of the almost illimitable range of this plan, when we recollect that its developement is to employ our understanding in the highest state of intellectual perfection, and to employ it, not for a measured term, but through the countless ages of an endless existence. The study, the discovery, the enjoyment, of truth will form one of the chief felicities of the heavenly state: but what must that knowledge be, which is to afford something new and interesting through eternity 1 how can this be obtained by man in the infancy of his existence upon earth 1 There are subjects yet to be known, which would have no less surpassed the understanding of Newton, than his profound discoveries in science would, the mind of a child.

No wonder, then, that we walk at present amidst shades and glimmerings. But how humbling is this view of the subject to the pride of intellect!” “There is a spirit in man, and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding.” The thinking mind is the glory of our nature; it is the candle of the Lord shining “in the earthly house of our tabernacle,” and giving light to all the faculties of our soul, to guide their operations, and to direct them in their appropriate business. To what an immeasurable elevation does it raise man above the brute creation! What wonders it has achieved — what stupendous monuments of wisdom and power it has raised! Who can mention the names of the giants of the world of mind, and especially who can survey the productions of their genius, without having high notions of the capacities of the human understanding ] But what are all the works of the greatest theologians, the profoundest philosophers, when compared with the knowledge of another world, but as the ideas of one who “thought as a child, and spake as a child!” Shall any man — shall the greatest of men — be proud of their modicum of knowledge, vain of their childish notions, puffed up with their poor scantling of information? Were the meanest and least of all the spirits of just men made perfect to come down and catechise a synod of the greatest divines on earth, how soon would he confound them amidst their most sagacious discoveries and most celebrated works. What infantine conceptions, what puerile conceits, could be found out in their most finished productions! So little reason has man for the pride of understanding — so much cause to clothe himself with the garment of humility.

HEAVEN A STATE OF PERFECT KNOWLEDGE.

“But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. Now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know but in part; but then shall I know, even as I am known.”

All these expressions refer to the celestial world, and unite to teach us that heaven is a state of perfect knowledge. Here we know only part of truth; then we shall know the whole: here we know nothing hut in a partial manner; there we shall know every thing completely: here we see truth, only as we perceive the dark shadow of a man, through a dense medium; there we shall behold it as clearly as we do the same man when we see him face to face: there we shall know truth, even as we are known by superior beings, i. e. with as much certainty, though not with the same comprehension.

This last expression has been sometimes explained, as conveying the intimation that we shall recognize each other in the celestial state. “We shall know others, even as we are known by them.” Many reasons concur to produce the expectation of this mutual recognition. It is almost impossible to suppose that we shall maintain our identity, not only of person but of character; and also the reminiscence of our earthly existence and history; without believing the interesting truth, that we shall again be mutually known to each other in the heavenly world. This is one of the sentiments which the sacred writers rather take for granted than stop to prove. But certainly this is not the meaning of the passage now under consideration. The

Apostle here speaks of our knowledge of things, not of persons.

The felicity of the celestial state will, doubtless, include every thing that can yield delight to a corporeal, social, intellectual, and moral creature. It is eternal life — everlasting existence, attended by every thing that can render existence a blessing. It is life, in the fullest sense of the term — life in the highest degree of perfection. The glorified body will probably retain the organs of sound and sight, — the purest of the senses, — and thus become the inlet of the most pleasurable sensations; while it will be for ever free from the cravings of appetite, the languor of sickness, the distress of pain, the weariness of labour. The social impulse will be gratified by the sublime converse of “the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.” The moral feelings will all combine in the most unsullied purity; while the intellect will be irradiated by the light of eternal truth. The heart will thus repose in the enjoyment of the chief good, and the mind in the contemplation of the first truth; beyond which nothing remains to be enjoyed — nothing to be known.

But we are now considering heaven under the representation of a state of knowledge, and as an intellectual condition. In this light the Scriptures frequently speak of the glory to be revealed. They call it an inheritance “in light;” they describe it as a world where there is no night. There “we shall see him as he is,” “behold his glory,” “see him face to face:” expressions which relate more to the eyes of the mind than to those of the body. Perhaps we do not sufficiently contemplate heaven in this view of it, The greater part of mankind are taken up with mere sensations, and are but little acquainted with the pure enjoyment connected with the perception of evidence and the apprehension of truth. The rapturous exclamation, “I have found it!” is rarely uttered by the multitude, over anything but the acquisition of wealth or the gratification of appetite. But those who have been engaged in any mea-?

sure in intellectual pursuits, will be able to appreciate the pleasures of knowledge. Evidence is to the mind like light to the eye, and the perception of truth, as water to the thirsty. Even the comparatively barren sciences of numbers and figures, which exclude the operation of the fancy, and present nothing to exercise the passions or gratify the imagination, the truths of which derive all their interest from the evidence by which they are supported, or the manner in which they are applied to other purposes; — yes; even these are a source of high and pure enjoyment to the human mind, which is ever seeking to arrive at infallible certainty, and can repose nowhere else. What exquisite delight has been experienced by some men, when, after a long process of reasoning or a fatiguing course of experiments, they have at length arrived at a demonstration. If, then, in the present world, where the subjects of our research are often so insignificant, where our knowledge is obtained with such labour, is limited by so much ignorance, and blended with so much error; if amidst such circumstances the pleasure of knowledge be so great, — what will it be in the heavenly state?

Let us consider what will be the objects of our knowledge.

If we may be allowed the expression, we shall know all things that are knowable, so far as an acquaintance with them will contribute to our felicity. We shall know every thing that is essential to the right performance of duty, or to the most perfect gratification of our intellect — all that lies within our proper sphere or compass as creatures.

We shall perfectly comprehend all the laws which govern the material world. The discovery of these are now considered to be among the most dignified and gratifying employments of the human understanding. It was his discoveries in natural philosophy which gave to our great Newton his celebrity. What a high station in the records of fame is assigned to Linneus, La Place, Davy, and Watt, and to others, who have explored the secrets and explained the laws of nature! Ilhey are ranked among the illustrious members and most valuable benefactors of their species. They are looked up to with a kind of semi-idolatry, and their praises are continually chanted for their vast achievements, not only in adding to the stock of knowledge, but in accumulating fresh honours upon human nature. What sublime and astonishing facts are included in the sciences of astronomy, optics, chemistry! how much of the power, wisdom, and goodness, of the divine Architect are displayed in the works of creation! — yet these things are now hidden from a great portion of the redeemed, who, by the disadvantages of their education, are shut out from these sources of knowledge. But they will be admitted to them in heaven. Creation will not be destroyed at the judgment day, but only purified. The vast and splendid machine will not then be thrown aside, broken up, and consigned to oblivion. Nothing which the hand of the Creator hath framed shall be forgotten. The brilliant scenes which are now passing before our eyes, but on which many even regenerated minds look without understanding them, are not a mere pageant. Beautiful was the remark of the eminently pious Bishop Hall, who, on being told in his old age that his views of astronomy were not quite correct, replied, “Well! it may be so; but I am soon going to heaven, and as I shall take the stars in my way, I must leave the subject till then, when every mistake will be rectified.” So completely will all the disadvantages of our earthly condition be removed in heaven, whether those disadvantages arise from the Christian being born in an age when knowledge is in its infancy, or amidst those privations of poverty which deny him access to the sources of information. In the hour of death, the pious but illiterate tenant of the cottage, on whose mind the orb of science never rose, though the sun of righteousness poured upon it the light of a spiritual illumination, ascends above the disadvantages of education, makes a glorious transition from the shades of ignorance, in which he dwelt upon earth, into the cloudless transparency of the firmament on high. His natural faculties, compressed and enfeebled now by the circumstances of his birth, shall then expand to a comprehension, and attain to a vigour, probably not surpassed by the loftiest of the human race; and he, too, shall know in heaven, the works of the God of nature, as he knew below, and shall still better know above, the works of the God of grace.

Providence will form another mighty range of inquiry, and another source of delightful knowledge in heaven. By providence, we mean God’s moral government of the universe — the course of the divine administration towards rational and moral creatures: that mighty scheme, which commenced its application before time was born, or the foundations of the earth were laid; which embraces the annals of other worlds besides ours; which includes the history of angels, men, and devils. Providence comprises the whole range of events, which have taken place from the formation of the first creature, to the last moment of time, with all the tendencies, reasons, connexions, and results, of things; the separate existence of each individual, with the continuation and influence of the whole, in one harmonious scheme. ‘Providence is now full of mysteries. We are puzzled at almost every step. Innumerable are the events over which, after having in vain endeavoured to sound their depth with the line of our reason, we must exclaim, “O the depth!” But we shall know all; why sin was permitted, and how it entered, with all the attendant train of incomprehensible results which followed its introduction into the moral universe. It will then be made apparent to us, why so long a period elapsed between the first promise of a Saviour, and his incarnation, sufferings, and death: why, for so many ages, the world was left in ignorance, sin, and misery: why such errors were permitted to enter the church; and so soon, and so extensively, to corrupt the simplicity and deform the beauty of the Christian profession: why the man of Sin was suffered to establish his seat in the temple of Christ; to exalt himself above all that is called God; to utter his blasphemy; to shed the blood of the saints; and so iong to spread the clouds of superstition, and the shades of death, over Christendom: why the impostor of Mecca was allowed to arise, and for so many ages to render a large portion of the earth inaccessible to the rays of the Sun of Righteousness: why idolatry, with all its sanguinary deities, and all its bloody and obscene rites, was left so long to insult the heavens, to pollute the earth, and to curse mankind. What deep, unfathomable mysteries are these! How confounding to our reason, and how utterly beyond our research! What astonishment and delight, what inconceivable emotions, will be produced by the gradual unfolding of the mighty scheme, by the progressive discoveries of the connexions and issues of things, and the wondrous display of divine glory which will be made by the whole. How shall we be enraptured to find, that those events which now so confound us, were dark only by excess of wisdom, and that those facts which so often distressed us upon earth were but the more sombre shades of the perfect picture! What manifestations of Deity will then be made, when God shall admit us to his cabinet, and lay open to us the arcana of * his government!

And, doubtless, we shall not only see the harmony and wisdom of Providence, in its general aspect and its more comprehensive combinations and arrangements, but in its particular bearing on our own private and personal history. The most important and interesting chapter in the volume of universal history is, to us, that which contains the record of our life. What clouds and shadows still rest, and in the present state ever must rest, upon our obscure and humble annals. How often is Jehovah, in his dealings with us, a God that hideth himself! hov, often does he wrap himself in clouds, and pursue his path upon the waters, where we can neither see his goings nor trace his footsteps! How many of his dispensations are inexplicable! and of his judgments, how many are unfathomable by the short Kne of our reason! But whatever we know not now, we shall know hereafter: the crooked will be made straight, the cloud of darkness will be scattered, and all his conduct towards us placed in the broad daylight of eternity. We shall see the connexion which our individual history bears with the general scheme of providence; and perceive how, notwithstanding our insignificance, our existence was no less necessary to the perfection of the whole plan, than that of the great ones of the earth. We shall see how all the varying and numerous, and seemingly opposite, events of our history were combined into one gracious purpose of mercy, which was most perfectly wise in all its combinations: now we believe that “all things work together for good;” then we shall see how this end was accomplished by events, which, at the time, put us to so much grief, and involved us in so much surprise. Delightful, most delightful will it be, to retrace our winding and often gloomy course, and discern at each change and turning the reason of the occurrence, and the wisdom of God: delightful will it be, to discern the influence which all our temporal circumstances, all our disappointments, losses, and perplexities, had upon our permanent and celestial happiness. How much of divine wisdom, power, goodness, and faithfulness, will our short and humble history present; and what rapturous fervour will the discovery give to the song of praise which we shall utter before the throne of God and the Lamb.

Revelation, as containing the scheme of human redemption by Jesus Christ, will be another object of our study, and source of knowledge. The Bible is given to make God known; and one page of the Bible, yea one verse, makes known more of God than all the volume of nature. But, after all, how little do we know of God, of his essence, of his triune mode of subsistence, of his natural perfections, of his moral attributes? What an unfathomable mystery is Deity! In what a pavilion of darkness does Jehovah dwell! Who, by searching, can find out God? In heaven we shall know him, for we shall see him face to face; we shall behold his glory, and see him as he is. We shall have as perfect an acquaintance with the divine character, as a finite mind can attain to; and in this one object, shall find employment and bliss through eternity. We shall never exhaust this theme. Eternity is necessary to study that which is in* finite.

We shall there comprehend, so far as it can be done by a finite mind, the complex person of Jesus Christ. We cannot now understand this; “great is the mystery of Godliness, — God manifest in the flesh;” but what we know not now, we shall know hereafter. Then will the cross be seen, as the central point of the divine administration, bright with ten thousand glories, and sending out its beams to the extremity of the moral system. The ruin of the world by its federal connexion with Adam; the election of the Jews, and the long abandonment of the Gentiles; the slow advance of Christianity to its millennial reign and triumph; the bearing of redemption upon other orders of beings beside man; the difficulties which hang like impenetrable clouds upon the doctrines of personal election, regeneration, perseverance, the freedom of the will viewed in connexion with divine prescience and predestination; — all, all will be laid open to the view of glorified saints in heaven. Every thing in the Scriptures, which is now dark, shall be made light. A reconciling point shall be found for every seeming contradiction, and the faith and patience of the saints be rewarded, for having received the truth on the credit of him who spoke it, without demanding to see before they believed.

Such shall be the sources of knowledge in heaven. O the bliss of eternally drinking in knowledge from such fountains!

We may now consider the advantages which the heavenly state will possess for the acquisition of knowledge.

The soul loill there be perfect in holiness, and thus the understanding loill he delivered from the disturbing and bewildering influence of sin. In our present state of imperfection, the depravity of our nature contracts and misdirects our judgment: the corruptions of the heart send up a mist, which veils the lustre of truth, and conceals its extent and glory from the mind. The judgment cannot now see spiritual objects in all their range, and order, and beauty, because of sin. But in heaven this contracting and darkening influence will cease for ever. No evil bias, no sinful prejudice, will ever warp the judgment: no disease of the soul will dim its eye or enfeeble its power. With eagle pinion it will soar to the fountain of radiance, and with eagle vision bear the full blaze of its glory. The natural faculty of the mind will then attain to its full maturity of strength. The mind is here in its infancy: there it will come to its age. Even the intellects of the greatest geniuses, while on earth, are but human minds in childhood, as we have already considered, and their most prodigious efforts but as infantine exercises. Here they only tried their powers: but in heaven the mind will put forth to their full extent all those wondrous faculties which are now shut up and compressed in our nature; for want of room and opportunity to expand. In heaven, we shall not he diverted and called off from the pursuit of truth by the inferior interests of the body: the soul will not be prevented from making excursions into the regions of light, by the cares, wants, and anxieties, which abound in this state of being, but will be left at leisure to pursue her sublime researches. She will have nothing to hinder the acquirement and enjoyment of knowledge. To crown all, heaven is an eternal state, and everlasting ages will be afforded through which the glorified mind will carry on its pursuits. Were the term of human life again protracted to the antediluvian age, what vast attainments would be made by us all in the discovery of truth! What, then, must it be to have eternity through which to grow in knowledge?

We might notice the characters of our knowledge, It will be perfect: by which we are not to understand that it will be as complete as the nature of things admits of, for we should then possess a comprehension equal to that of God. We cannot perfectly know every thing as it may be known: our ideas of many things must be limited, especially those which relate to the divine nature. By perfection, we mean freedom from error:

our knowledge will be free from all admixture of doubtj suspense, and fallacy; our attainments will be bounded only by our capacity; there will, perhaps, be a gradation of mind in heaven, no less obviously marked than that which exists on earth; but all capacities will be filled.

Our knowledge will doubtless be progressive. Increase of ideas is, perhaps, in the case of a creature, essential to felicity. We now find more pleasure in receiving a new and important truth, than we experience in all we before possessed. A state in which there remains nothing more to be known, conveys not an idea of happiness so vividly as that where the delight of discovering something new is ever added to the joy of contemplating so much that is old. What a view of heaven! — An eternal advance in the most important knowledge; an everlasting accumulation of ideas; an interminable progression in truth. In the march of the mind through intellectual and moral perfection, there is no period set: this perfection of the just is for ever carrying on — is carrying on, but shall never come to a close. God shall behold his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, for ever drawing near to himself, yet still infinitely distant from him, the fountain of all goodness. There is not in religion a more joyful or triumphant consideration than this perpetual progress which the soul makes in the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at its ultimate period. Here truth has the advantage of fable. No fiction, however bold, presents to us a conception so elevating and astonishing as this interminable fine of heavenly excellence. To look upon the glorified spirit, as going on from strength to strength, adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; making approaches to goodness which is infinite; for ever adorning the heavens with new beauties, and brightening in the splendours of moral glory through the ages of eternity; — has something in it so transcendent, as to satisfy the most unbounded ambition of an immortal spirit. Christian! does not thy heart glow at the thought that there is a time marked out in the annals of heaven, when thou shalt be what the angels now are; when thou shalt shine with that glory in which principalities now appear; and when, in full communion with the Most High, thou shalt “see him as he is?”

How our knowledge in heaven will be acquired whether by testimony, by immediate revelation, or by some method of mental application, it would be idle to speculate. We know that whatever mode is determined upon by God, will promote, and not interrupt, our felicity; we shall have nothing of the weariness of study — nothing of the anxiety of doubt — nothing of the torture of suspense. Ideas will flow into the soul with the same ease and pleasure on our part as rays of light come to the bodily eye.

Whatever knowledge we gain in heaven will be transforming: it will not be mere opinion, or uninfluential speculation. All our ideas will be as fuel, to feed the flame of love, which will then burn upon the altar of the soul: all will be quickening, penetrating, influential. Our opinions will be principles of action. Every thing will lead us to see more of God, to love him with a more intense glow of holy aflection, and to be more conformed to him. The light of truth will ever be associated with the warmth of love. “We shall be like God, /or we shall see him as he is.”

It is difficult to find, in the volume of revelation, a stronger internal evidence of its divine original, than the view it gives of the celestial state, combining, as it does, the perfection of knowledge and of purity. Every other representation which has been given of heaven, bears the mark of an earthly source, — the proof of being a human device. As, in seeking for a Deity, man found the prototype in his own passions, when he had abandoned the one living and true God; so, in forming’ a heaven, he collected all the materials from the objects of his own fleshly delights. The Elysium of the Greeks and the Romans; the Hall of the Scandinavians; the Paradise of the Mahometans; the fantastic abodes of the departed Hindoos; — are all adapted to their depraved appetites, and were suggested by their corrupt imaginations. Beyond the pleasures of a seraglio, of a field of glory, or of a hall resounding with the shout of victory — beyond the gratification of sense — man, when left to himself, never looked for the happiness which is to constitute his paradise. A heaven made up of perfect knowledge, and of perfect love, is a vision entirely and exclusively divine, and which never beamed upon the human understanding till the splendid image came upon it from the word of God. How worthy of God is such a representation of celestial bhss! It is an emanation from his own nature, as thus described: — “God is light: God is love.” The glorious reality is evidently the provision of his own wisdom and grace; and the sublime description of it in the Scriptures, is as evidently the delineation of his own finger.