This is a death which never dies. Here is a heart palpitating with eternal misery. Here is an eye never filmed by the kind finger of generous forgetfulness. Here will be a body never to be stiffened in apathy- never to be laid quietly in the grave, rid of keen pangs, wearing disease, and lingering wretchedness. To die, ye say, is nature's kind release- it bringeth ease. It comes to a man, for this world at least, a farewell to his woes and griefs- but there shall be no ease, no rest, no pause in the destination of impenitent souls. -Depart, ye cursed,- shall ever ring along the endless aisles of eternity. The thunderbolt of that tremendous word shall follow the sinner in his perpetual flight from the presence of God- from its baleful influence he shall never be able to escape- no, never.