Rev. Mr. Ingleby.—"Some think he does, but I doubt it. When he makes his grand appearance, preparatory to the final judgment, he will be seen coming in the clouds, and all the holy angels with him; and at the blast of the archangel's trumpet, the pious dead will spring up into life, and, together with the pious who may be living at this great crisis, will undergo a change in their physical formation and appearance; the natural body will become a spiritual body, bearing the image of the heavenly, as distinctly as they bore, when living on earth, the image of the earthy. But this wonderful process of coming up into newness of life, issuing in a physical transformation from a natural to a spiritual body, is effected by the action of power. 'For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body according to the working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto himself' (Phil. iii. 20, 21). What a sublimely grand spectacle! every one of the august family of God will be arrayed in a body resembling the glorified body of Jesus Christ! But the assimilation to which the words of John refer, is produced by vision. We shall be like him when we see him; and the assimilation will take place immediately on seeing him, and in consequence of seeing him; and we shall see him the moment we die, for to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord."

Mrs. Stevens.—"There is something so strange and appalling in death and in dying, and in having to pass, and pass alone, into the great world of spirits, that I am not surprised by the shuddering dread which some feel when anticipating it; and nothing can allay this fearful commotion, but a firm belief in the watchful eye and ever-active presence of our kind and compassionate Saviour. 'I will come again and receive you to myself,' is the sweet promise which reduces agitation to calmness, and inspires confidence and joy in the moment of the final departure from earth."

Rev. Mr. Ingleby.—"We cannot tell on what living being here on earth any of us will cast the last look of recognition and affection; but the first Being we shall see on entering the great unknown world will be Jesus Christ, waiting to receive us to himself as his own, that we may be glorified together. This we believe, and this we know; and therefore we may rejoice with joy unspeakable."

Miss Roscoe.—"Then it would be more in harmony with the spirit of our faith, to cherish a desire to depart to see our Lord, than to wish to live here always away from him."

Mr. Roscoe.—"I was very much pleased with the following paragraph of the discourse which I heard the Curate deliver, from the text on which you have just been speaking:—'You are following, my brethren, no cunningly-devised fable, as infidelity asserts, when you enter the mystic inclosure of Divine revelation, and look with the piercing eye of faith on the glory to be revealed in you, because the objects of your belief are not inventions, but realities within the range of your actual knowledge. You know in whom you believe; and you know that he has effected in you the preparatory spiritual change which is to issue in the grand result of your eternal salvation. You know he has convinced you, by his Holy Spirit, of the evil of sin; that he has produced in you the feeling of deep self-humiliation and contrition; that he has drawn you to himself, to believe and trust in him; and that he has at times manifested himself to you as he does not unto the world, giving you peace and joy in believing. These emotions of contrition and self-humiliation, of peace and of joy, you know are genuine emotions; not self-originated, nor yet produced by the action of any mere human agency; and you know that they are the first spiritual operations in the new formation of your soul, which is to terminate in a perfect likeness to Jesus Christ, when you see him as he is.'"

Rev. Mr. Ingleby.—"I have in my congregation a very simple-hearted, godly man, who is in the service of an avowed sceptic; and one day, when he was at work, his master said to him, 'John, you don't know that what you believe about another world is true.'—'And you, master, don't know that it is untrue.'—'I believe, John, that the visions of future glory which now flit so vividly before your imagination, will turn out at last to be deceptions—mere fancy pictures; for when you are dead you will go out of existence.'—'I have heard you say that before, master; and if it should be so, I shall never know it; but there is one thing which I think I know.'—'And what's that, John?'—'Why, master, it is just this. If you were dying—and die you must—you would rather have the bright visions of immortality and eternal life flitting before your imagination, than die as infidels generally do, in dread uncertainty, or in the agony of self-reproach for neglecting the great salvation. I am safe against both these terrible evils, but you stand exposed to them; and it will very soon be decided which is right and which is wrong—you or I. We are both near our journey's end; I am seventy-two, and I believe, master, you are a few years older. We shall soon know what our end is to be. I have no fear, except for you, master.'"

Mr. Stevens.—"These plain godly people very often, by their homespun arguments and their shrewd remarks, stagger and confound even the most subtile and scornful infidels."

Mr. Lewellin.—"They often silence them."

Rev. Mr. Ingleby.—"I don't think we have many avowed infidels in Broadhurst, though, alas! we have too many who are theoretical believers, but practical unbelievers."