is his wrath." The dreadful nature of their punishment may be inferred from what Christ underwent, when sin was imputed to him. When such things were done in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry? When the wrath of God was so terrible to the spotless Lamb, what shall it be to his obstinately impenitent enemies! Add to these considerations that the state of suffering shall be without intermission, and without alleviation. It shall be without intermission. An interval of ease from paroxysms of pain is very refreshing; but no such interval is known there, for, as it is expressed, they are "tormented day and night," and "have no rest day nor night." It shall be without alleviation. In the bitterest earthly cup there is some sweetening ingredient; in the heaviest earthly sorrow there is some soothing cordial; but there there is not "a drop of water to cool the tongue."

Under the pressure of such suffering, this wretched man cried aloud to the patriarch for help, styling him, “Father Abraham." Even on earth, it was vain for those Jews to plead, as they were commonly ready to plead, their connexion with Abraham, who were not possessed of his faith, and not walking in his footsteps. "Think not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father," said our Lord; "for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham." And so, the plea is at least equally vain in hell. Let us not flatter ourselves, my friends, that our relation to pious persons, our Christian descent and baptism, or any outward privileges, will avail to our salvation at last, if we personally neglect salvation now. In that case, such advantages will plainly aggravate our guilt and condemnation.

It is but a small favour, you observe, that the man asks. He does not ask to be delivered altogether from hell, or to be admitted into heaven, or to have any great relief for a considerable time; nor does he ask Abraham to come to him himself: he only begs that he would "send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, to cool his tongue;" and yet this very small request cannot be granted. It has been observed, that this is the only passage in Scripture that looks like a prayer to a departed saint; and yet, it is but an application to one who is supposed to be within sight and hearing, and that, too, for a small favour, which, small as it was, was refused: so little encouragement is there here to the idolatrous practice of praying to the dead, too prevalent with many.

The reply of Abraham to this request is given in part in the 25th verse: "But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou, in thy lifetime, receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." He addresses him civilly-a rule which always ought to be attended to, however abandoned and hopeless the person addressed may be. Even "Michael, the archangel, when contending with the devil (he disputed about the body of Moses), durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee." Abraham acknowledged this lost Jew as his son, his son "according to the flesh," though, spiritually, he was of his father the devil. But, while he spoke to him civilly, he spoke to him honestly and truly, and did not extenuate his guilt and folly, or excite hopes which could never be realized. He reminded him that he had already received his "good things," those things which he had chiefly desired, namely, riches and luxurious enjoyment; and, therefore, that he had no reason to be dissatisfied, seeing that he had got his favourite wish, and that he could not now expect those spiritual and heavenly enjoyments, which he had never sought while there was a possibility of obtaining them, but must acknowledge, that the misery in which he was involved was the just and unavoidable consequence of the choice he had made. On the other hand, he reminds him that Lazarus, who had chosen rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, was only reaping the natural and promised fruit of such a choice. Let us here reflect how the remembrance of the part we have chosen in time will be to us the occasion of joy, or of misery, in the other world; and let us see that we make choice of those spiritual blessings which are connected with our everlasting good, knowing that what we sow, that we shall also reap. If we sow unto the flesh, we shall, of the flesh, reap corruption; but, if we sow unto the Spirit, we shall, of the Spirit, reap life everlasting.

But, even though Abraham had thought it right, and had been desirous, to relieve the wretched man, it would have been entirely out of his power. "And beside all this," added he, "between us and you there is a great gulf," or chasm,* "fixed: so that they who would pass from hence

* Profane writers also speak of a "great gulf,” xaoμa μɛya, in the unseen world. There is a very striking passage of this kind in Hesiod's Theogonia, lineæ 729-745. The same idea also occurs in Plato, Plutarch, Ovid, and Lucian,

to you" (if any such there could be) “cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence,” however gladly, doubtless, many would do so, if they could. Now, this is just the doctrine of the eternity of future punishment; and this eternity is its most dreadful feature. Sin, as committed against God, who is an infinite being, is an infinite evil, and deserves an infinite punishment. And sin, as committed by man, is committed by an immortal being, and deserves a punishment commensurate with his nature, that is, an endless punishment, though it will be different in degree, according to the degree of guilt. Besides, the means of obtaining pardon and holiness are not within the reach of those who are in hell; and, instead of having sin cleared off, they are still sinning more and more. Indeed, if we will but credit the plain declarations of Scripture, we cannot entertain the slightest doubt on the subject. Damnation is declared to last as long as salvation: and there is no more reason to look for the end of the one than for that of the other. These shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal." Many would fain get rid of this doctrine; but they cannot, while revelation is entitled to credit. Many would fill up the gulf, or build a bridge over it; but nothing of the kind can be done: it is absolutely impassable. What a thought is this! In any pain, the prospect of relief, at however distant a period, is very reviving. Were the impenitent condemned to suffer as many ages as there are drops of water in the ocean, or piles of grass on the earth, still, if there were a certainty, or a probability, or even a possibility, of their deliverance at last, they would not be, at any moment, utterly wretched: but, there is no prospect of the kind for them; there is no end to damnation; they cannot even hope for an end, for they are not infidels there. They look forward to an eternity of woe. No ray of hope darts across the gloom of hell's cavern. "The smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever."

It must always be distressing, in itself, to speak or hear of such things; but what is painful may be salutary. Why are they revealed by an infinitely wise and gracious God if we are to pass them by? It is quite impossible, consistently with faithfulness, to banish from our system this doctrine, or from our vocabulary these words of inspiration. Let us be ready to give them their own place; for, however appalling to some, they are absolutely necessary to others, and

L

should be instructive to all. How very dreadful, then, this representation of the sufferings of the condemned, as being without intermission, without alleviation, and without end! It is thus that, in supposed vision, but in accordance with scriptural representations, the poet* describes the hell in which this rich man, when he was dead, lifted up his eyes, and into which every impenitent sinner is every moment in danger of sinking down:

"Wide was the place,

And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep.
Beneath I saw a lake of burning fire,
With tempest toss'd perpetually, and still
The waves of fiery darkness 'gainst the rocks
Of dark damnation broke."-

"And far as sight could pierce,
Or down descend in caves of hopeless depth,
Through all that dungeon of unfading fire,
I saw most miserable beings walk,
'Dying perpetually, yet never dead.'
Some wandered lonely in the desert flames,
And some in fell encounter fiercely met,

With curses loud, and blasphemies, that made
The cheek of darkness pale.-

And there were groans that ended not, and sigh
That always sighed, and tears that ever wept,
And ever fell-but not in mercy's sight."

Surely, this part of the parable speaks to sluggish man, as with a voice of thunder, and may well cause the stoutest heart to quake. Let sinners in Zion be afraid—let fearfulness seize the hypocrites. "Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?"+ How should we all tremble at the thought!-how should we all fly from the danger!—how should we all keep at the greatest possible distance from the awful pit!-how should we all welcome and improve the Lord's gracious proclamation in the gospel, "Deliver men from going down to the pit, for I have found a ransom!" The idea of the unfathomable chasm which separates between the two regions of the invisible world, is very awakening: but let us also remember that a separation, very similar, exists in the present world; for whether we always perceive it or not, there is a line of radical distinction which separates the living into two classes-believing and unbelieving, converted and unconverted men: and, according as they are found on the one side of that line, or on the other, at death, so they shall dwell on the one side, or on the other side of the great gulf, through eternity. There is one difference,

* Pollok.

Isa. xxxiii. 14.

however—and, blessed be God for it!—while the converted on earth are already safe for ever, the unconverted on earth may pass to the safe side of the line; the gulf of nature's condemnation and depravity is not impassable, while they are here, for, by the grace of God, and in the way of repentance towards God and "faith towards the Lord Jesus Christ," sinners may pass from death to life, and be delivered from the power of darkness, and translated into the kingdom of God's dear Son. Let us consider well on which side of the line we at present have our station; and let none of us contentedly tarry a moment on the wrong side, lest death surprise us there, and fix us there for ever.

Having failed in his application for himself, the rich man (such at least he once was), applies in behalf of his relations on earth. "Then he said, I pray thee, therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father's house; for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment." From Lazarus being happy in heaven, and the rich man miserable in hell, while the rich man's father and brethren were yet alive on earth, it is clear that the soul is not in a state of insensibility between death and the resurrection, but continues in a state of consciousness and feeling, and passes into heaven or hell, immediately on its separation from the body. And how impressive and influential should be the consideration of the nearness to which this brings the awful realities of eternity! It is to be inferred, too, from this request, in which no mention is made of widow or children, but only of father and brethren, that this wretched man had died unmarried, and in the prime of life, and that the surviving members of the family were proceeding in an irreligious and worldly course, similar to that which had brought him to the regions of despair. We cannot suppose that any true benevolence has place in the breasts of the condemned dead; it is even probable that natural affection itself is extinct, or at least, if it have any existence, it must be only the source of pain. We must, therefore, suppose that this request arose from a species of selfishness, that is, from a fear that the rest of the family, whom he had doubtless injured by his irreligious conversation and example, should come to everlasting ruin also, and his own misery be thereby aggravated. Men are chargeable, be it observed, with all the consequences which may, at any time, result from their conduct, as he who is guilty of wilful fire-raising is accountable