also be rendered to their poor bodies after death; and that no plebeian or unlearned person should take precedency, even in the last sad memento of human frailty. After death there is but little difference between the learned and the unlearned, and the real difference is made, not by their previous learning or ignorance, but by their moral worth. An unlearned man may be, and often is, far more beloved by man, and far more pleasing in the sight of God, than the most learned, and therefore, when death has destroyed the imaginary distinctions of time, if religion makes any difference between the dead, it surely ought to make it according to that estimate, which is eternal. But the religion of the oral law cannot forget worldly distinction, even in the solemn moment of death, and therefore commands, that as the unlearned man, no matter what his moral worth may have been, has been despised in his life, he should still bear the marks of dishonour even in his death and burial. But the homage which the oral law pays to wealth and mere worldly distinction, is still more apparent in its commands respecting the measure of lamentation to be dealt out to the deceased. It says, on this subject—
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"The sons of the rich are to be regarded as the sons of the wise men; and the sons of the wise men as the sons of kings, with regard to praising their deeds." (Ibid., 344.) Here there is no concealment. The learned makers of the oral law choose to have their children honoured with the honours of royalty, and show that, however highly they might prize their learning, they had a due estimate of the value of wealth; and that however they might despise the unlearned, their contempt might be moderated, if the object of it was only rich. In the world we are not astonished at the inordinate homage paid to wealth, but when the teachers of religion bow down before the golden idol, and assign to mere wealth an honour which they refuse to the piety and moral worth of the poor, we cannot help doubting the purity of their professed principles, and questioning the truth of their religious system. The main object of religion should be to raise men above the delusive appearances of this present world—to teach men to look beyond the distinctions of rank, and wealth, and learning, to that eternal distinction which the righteous Judge will make according to man's deeds. And if there be one season more than another where religion ought to disregard the principles and customs of the world, it is with respect to the hour of death and burial. But here the oral law still maintains its love for wealth and worldly distinction, and its haughty contempt for ignorance, poverty, and humbleness
