_Bring out your dead_! what a solemn, terribly solemn cry! How it
must have filled with awe and dread all who heard it! And if that call
were repeated, if the holy angels of God were to go through the length
and breadth of our land, and, stopping before each house, were to cry to
those within, 'Bring out your dead, bring out your dead,' not your dead
bodies, but your dead souls; bring out all in your house who are not
alive unto God, who are dead in trespasses and sins, how many would
have to be carried out of our houses? Should we ourselves be left
behind? Are we alive or dead?

The angels have not yet come to sever the dead from the living, but the
time for that great separation is drawing daily nearer, when the Son of
man shall send forth His angels, and they shall gather out of His
kingdom all things that offend; all the loathsomeness of death, and
decay, and impurity shall be collected by angel hands, and, we read,
they shall cast them, not into a vast pit such as was dug in London in
the time of the plague, but into a furnace of fire, there shall be
wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Surely, then, it is worth while to find out whether our soul is alive or
dead. What test then shall we use? How shall we settle the matter
clearly and definitely?

There is one thing, and one thing only, which proves that a man has
life. A man apparently drowned is brought out of the water. He does not
speak, or see, or move, or feel. He is rubbed and warmed, but no sign of
life can be perceived. Can we therefore conclude that the man is dead?
Nay, we will put him to the test. Bring a feather, hold it before his
mouth, watch it carefully, does it move? A crowd of anxious bystanders
gather round to see. Soon a cry of joy is heard, the feather moves.