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LONDON: PKINTED BY EMILY FAITHFULL, Printer and Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty, VICTORIA PRESS, PRINCES STREET, HANOVER SQUARE. 1863. LONDON : PRINTED BT EMILY FAITHFULL, PRINTER AND PUBLISHER IN ORDINARY TO HER MAJESTY, VICTORIA PRESS, PRINCE STREET, HANOVER SQUARE. PREFACE. If months of almost unremitted suffering bear no fruit for other's good no less than for one's own, its object can scarcely be said to have been attained. How far the attainment in the present case is for the future to decide. Enough indeed for myself the Record of suffering hours not altogether profitlessly em- ployed, bringing as it does, to the recollection what, I would still believe, were the whisper- ings of the Spirit the Comforter and the glad Response made to them from within, and still more, enkindling the hope that life yet spared for future duties will be spent, far better than the past, for my Master's glory and the good of my fellow-men. But surely " Consolations abound in order that we may be able to comfort others with the consolation wherewith we are comforted of God." The world of Christian sufferers is large, far greater than can be reached by living tongue ; nor are the written pages, wherein the comforted have spoken, yet too ii Preface. numerous for the wide variety of human woe; while the fact will be readily acknowledged, that by far the greater number of volumes intended for its alleviation are repetitions not only of the thoughts, but the words of the speakers. The eye familiar with our written sources of human consolation at once rests, in almost every such volume, upon lines well- known and valued. Nor if a thought of such an honour to be accorded to anything found herein be entertained, let blame attach to me. I would live in the heart of many beyond my own time and generation. I would " though dead, yet speak ;" u I have believed and therefore have I spoken ;" I know that faith and patience have but to be tried for the very fire to issue in praise. Not mere echoes are to be heard of " voices in the night," but the Pilgrim's songs are to be called forth and felt to harmonize with the notes struck by the great Master-hand. Their language, however simple, shall be recognised as part of the Heavenly Melody, and excite in their fellow-pilgrims their utterance of praise. If mine the privilege of eliciting one such utterance from a fellow-sufferer, I shall know the blessing attained, even though it may be " after many days." I N D E X. No. 1. 2. 3. 4. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. Contents. Disciples taken apart in the way . . . No Changes, no Fear... Trial no strange thing " Spare me, that I may recover strength" " Now we see through a glass, darkly" u As thy days, so thy strength" ... " Peace, be still" Day and night the Lord's u Be of good cheer, it is I" A rest remaining " Wherefore doth a living man complain?" Fear's murnmrings. Faith's answers All fulness in Christ ... Teacher and Taught ... Precious Promises " Watchman, what of the night ? " The House Eternal ... Death, to the eye of Sense Death, to the eye of Faith Nice, September 12th, 1860 Thoughts suggested by Psalm LXXXIV. " Jesus wept" " Sow in tears, reap in joy " Advent " Glorify God in the fires " Christmas Day Close of Year Scripture. Matt, xx., 17 Psalm lv., 19 1 Peter iv., 12 Psm. xxxix., 13 1 Cor. xiii., 12 Deut. xxxiii., 25 Mark iv., 39 Psalm lxxiv., 16 Matt, xiv., 27 Heb. iv., 9. Lam. iii., 39 Col. i., 19 2 Cor. iv., 17 Isaiah xliii., 2 Isaiah xxi., 11, 2 Cor. v., 1 John xi., 35 Psalm cxxvi., 5 Isaiah xxiv., 15 1 4 6 10 12 14 16 18 20 23 25 29 32 34 37 39 42 44 46 50 52 56 57 59 61 63 65 ii Index. No. Contents. Scripture. Page 28. " My times are in Thy hand " ... Psalm xxxi., 15 ... 71 29. " I go to prepare a place for you"... John xiv., 2 ... 74 30. " Make me know my end." Bible version ... ... Psalin xxxix., 4 ... 75 31. " Make me know my end " Prayer- book version ... ... Psalm xxxix., 5 ... 76 32. " What hast thou that thou didst not receive?" ... ... 1 Cor. iv., 7 ... 79 33. " Consolation abounds " ... 2 Cor. i., 5 ... 81 34. " Hereunto were ye called " ... 1 Peter ii., 21 ... 83 35. " There is a river — city of God "... Psalm xlvi. 4 ... 85 36. " Looking unto Jesus " ... Heb. xii., 2 ... 88 37. u Commit thy way unto the Lord... Psalm xxxvii., 5... 90 38. "Fear thou not, for I am with thee" ... ... ... Isaiah xli., 10 ... 92 39. Psalm XXIH. ... ... — ... 94 40. " I know their sorrows" ... Exod. iii., 7 ... 95 41. " Could ye not watch with Me one hour? " ... ... Matt, xxvi., 40 ... 96 42. Good Friday ... ... — ... 99 43. The Saviour in the Grave ... — ... 101 44. " The Lord is risen indeed." Easter Day ... ... ... Luke xxiv., 34 ... 105 45. Ascension Day ... ... — ... 107 46. Whitsunday ... ... — ... 110 47. Trinity Sunday ... ... — ...112 48. Allurement into the T/iklerness ... Hosea ii., 14,15 ... 114 49. Communion. Geneva, Aug. 4, 1861 — ... 116 50. " Thy Will be done" ... Matt, xxvi., 42 ... 119 51. " We groan, desiring the Heavenly " 2 Cor. v., 2 ... 120 52. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust" ... ... ... Job xiii., 15 ... 124 53. ''Absent from the body, present with the Lord "... ... 2 Cor. v., 8 ... 126 54. "Wearisome nights appointed" ... Job vii., 3 ... 128 55. "Soul as a weaned child " ... Psalm cxxxi., 2 ... 131 56. " Guided with counsel, raised to glory" ... ... Psalm lxxiii., 24... 134 57. " Affliction no willing thing" ... Lam. iii., 33 ... 137 Index. 111 No. Contents. Scripture. Page. 58. M Look up through nature to God " — . 139 59. " I am not alone " John xvi., 32 . 142 60. The Refiner Malac. iii., 3 . 143 61. u My grace is sufficient for thee " . . . 2 Cor. xii., 9 . 145 62. " Casting all your care on Him, &c." 1 Peter v., 7 . 146 63. u No more Sea" Rev. xxi., 1 . 148 64. This trial best — . 150 65. Bow in the Cloud Gen. ix., 13 . 153 66. u Fashioned like unto His glorious body"... Phil, iii.., 21 . 155 67. " My beloved is Mine" Song of Sol. ii., 16. . 157 68. Earth's Present Winter — . 160 69. " Ring the Old Year out" . — . 167 70. " Ring the New Year in " — . 169 71. Circumcision of Christ — . 173 72. Epiphany ... — . 175 73. Angel encamping round the fearing. . Psalm xxxiv., 7 .. . 178 74. The Cure... — . 182 75. " Given to suffer " Phil, i., 29 . 184 76. "Abide with us" Luke xxiv., 29 . . 186 77. "In all points tempted like as we are" Heb. iv., 15 . 187 78. " Thou knowest that I love thee "... John xxi., 15 . 190 79. " Lord, I believe ; help my unbelief " Mark ix., 24 . 192 80. Ash Wednesday — . 195 81. "Go forward" Exod. xiv., 15 . . 197 82. " To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" Phil, i., 21 . 200 83. Sufferings not to be compared with glory ... Rom. viii., 18 . . 202 84. "Inhabitant shall not say, 1 am sick" ... Isai. xxxiii., 24 .. . 204 85. " More than conquerors " Rom. viii. 37 . 205 86. " And so shall we ever be with the Lord" ... IThess. iv. 17 .. . 208 87. " Not yet come to the Rest " Deut. xii., 9 . 211 88. Pressing toward the mark for the Prize"... Phil. iii. 13, 14 . . 213 WAYSIDE THOUGHTS. I. "And Jesus, going up to Jerusalem, took the twelve dis- ciples apart in the way." Matt. xx. 17.) Tis not amid the busy throng The Christian Pilgrim best is guided. His steps, though dearest friends among, Were never to their care confided ; 'Tis not when most engaged in duties, How loved soe'er they be and blest. That man can see the varied beauties Which shine upon his way to Rest. He needs the standing still awhile To view the passing landscape o'er, To measure all the weary toil Of his own pathway heretofore, To value as he ought the pleasures So crowded in the toilsome past, To count the unexhausted treasures That still before his feet are cast. Wayside Thoughts. He needs to stand a while aside His fellow-Pilgrims to survey, To watch the restless human tide Sweep by him on their headlong way, To comprehend the unceasing strife For things that perish undergone, To gather truths of death and life From circles other than his own. Perchance he needs some preparation For greater calls upon his faith, And Christ would have his consecration Afresh for suffering or death ; In Him to live, by death to gain, By teaching this He loves to engage Our hearts for what may yet remain Of our appointed Pilgrimage. And hence His guidance in the way To Zion's earthly tern pie -court ; He bids His loved disciples stay With Him a while, however short; And then, amid the burning tears Such grievous tidings needs must bring, He pours into their wondering ears The future of His suffering. The Recreation of Weary Days. Their Lord and Master soon must go In paths no other feet can tread; Have they their baptism of woe? They shall be ever comforted; Yet dearest friends must part on earth, 'Tis what the suffering Lord is teaching, And joy must draw its very birth From faith to Christ ascended reaching. But oh! their sorrow! Hopes of peace All centering in Him for ever, Well may disciples' courage cease, If aught the earthly bond can sever ; Well may they have to stand apart, E'en in their happy Zionward way, To gain fresh strengthening of heart For each expected sorrowing day. Nor less the Christian Pilgrim now Is made to seek his strength for toil, In love he's silenced, or laid low, By Jesus bid to rest a while: But Jesus still remains my guide, Nor suffers me to walk alone; I'll praise then while I stand aside, Nor care how long He casts me down. b2 4 Wayside Thoughts. II. " Because they have no changes, therefore they fear not God." (Psalm lv. 19.) TVhen sky above our head is bright, And not a cloud appears in sight, 'Tis well for us to recollect how soon 'tis overcast, The storm how suddenly 'tis driven O'er all the face of brightest heaven, The days of light and sunshine, oh ! how quickly they are past! Nor less when not a ray of light Is gilded to our mortal sight, But all around is thickening in darkness and in storm, 'Tis well to recollect how soon, Ere earth has reached its very noon, The clouds all vanish, and again she takes her brightest form. 'Tis thus in mercy God arranges The constant series of changes, Whereby the earth exhibits all her wonders to man- kind, The storm, the calm, the sun, the shades, One loving purpose all pervades, That man in varied blessings all his happiness shall find. The Recreation of Weary Days. 5 Were all in sunshine to remain, And each new day appear again Clothed as before in summer garb of warmth and joy and brightness, • The heart, so carnal from its birth, Mid flowers and streams and fields of earth, Would wander on enchanted and rejoicing in its lightness. So were unvaried clouds to hang, Or gather blackness as they rang With thunder threatening deluges to all the works of man, The soul would scarce to duty rise, But, leaving very exercise, Would pass in idle terror a great portion of life's span. 'Tis change that makes our life appear A pressing- on from year to year, To something better than can e'er on this our earth be found ; From infancy to youth, and then To manhood, and from being men To old age quickly passing, we are forced to look beyond. 6 Wayside Thoughts. And thus with everything in life ; E'en peace itself is learnt by strife, Joy has its bitter contrast and is taught us best by sorrow, Health in its value is unknown Till sickness with its warnings come ; We only find to-day's true worth by our caring for the morrow. What then if doubting heart repine At all the changes that are mine, Shall not my recollection wake this truth of God's own Word? Each fearful thought it will reprove, All fretful faithlessness remove, " Because there are no changes theirs, they fear not God the Lord." III. " Trial no strange thing." (1 Pet. iv. 12.) Wh^lT thine inheritance, poor sinful Flesh? Infirmity, corruption, sickness, death — Not as thou bearest thy Creator's image, But as thou sharest thy first parents' fall. The Recreation of Weary Days. 7 The world a desolation, Nature's taint O'er all pervading, all Creation groans, A bright redemption waiting from the Lord. How shall not then my heart cease wondering At daily trials or at hourly toils? My labours in the vineyard stopped awhile, The tongue forbidden to speak, the heart to plead, My flock deserted, and a foreign home, The fondest hopes just in their budding nipped, What but a proper expectation this If rightly weighing my infirmities? — ■ Tis health that I am seeking, sickness comes, The aid of the physician sought in vain, Nor yet the Great Deliverer unasked To bless the skill of man — the body fails Yet more and more ; the very breath of life Seems shortened and is rendered difficult; The days of suffering lengthened, and the nights Denied their wonted respite from the toil; What less shall a poor sinful man expect, Who knows his frailty and who asks for good? — The mind, bright emanation from on high But clogged with earthly teachings and obscured, Shall this escape the chastening ? Why, it shares Each feebleness of body and each toil : 'Twere strange if its best power did not fail, And in its turn the minister become 8 Wayside Thoughts. To yet more feebleness. The Soul, though saved From the eternal sin-wrought punishment, Is yet confined within the fleshly bond, Shall darkness then be stranger to its path? Thou hast not learned thy being yet aright, O man, that dost of punishment complain, Thy nature and its need, its source, its light, Its end, unfitness, and yet hope of Heaven — And hast thou not forgotten to compare Thine own with others' sufferings? How few Thy trials are, and theirs so numberless ! Alone how many weep ! Thy grief is shared — Unaided many a sufferer, thou art nursed And cherished with the tenderest of care — With blessings compassed, they deprived of all — No love their brightness, smiles are all for thee — 'Tis strange that others nearer Heaven by far Should less be blessed, and thou so comforted ! — But stranger far that thou should'st e'er forget The Chief of Sufferers, the Anointed One, Born in the stable yet the Lord of lords, A child obedient yet of all the King, By man despised yet living to caress, Of every woe the Sharer, for He bore The whole world's sorrows when He bore its sins. The Guiltless Sufferer, no taint nor share Of sin was His and yet its Thorns He wore. The Recreation of Weary Days. Then think of Jesus and be comforted— Yea, humbled soul, that knowest thy desert, The heritage of sin, and sorrow's curse, That lookest for the chastisement from Heaven As well deserved and bearing its intent, Oh ! think of Jesus and be comforted — How low soe'er our nature, He can raise The lowest to Eedemption's pinnacle; Already hath He sanctified a part By taking it Himself before the Throne; And thy shortcomings, feebleness, and sin, All, all shall be forgotten by the Lord Who smites in mercy and corrects in love. Mind, body, soul, whate'er to thee belongs Is under His direction, and He knows When best to chasten and how best to raise. Be sure of this, His Love, His Care are thine, He truly suffered, and for thee He died. 10 Wayside Thoughts. IV. fw O spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more." (Psalm xxxix. 13.) Fain would I linger yet Before my summons come, Things of the past forget While pressing for my home. Spare me, Saviour, spare, Nor bid me to Thy side; Earth has for me its care, For which I would abide. My strength has failed me now So rapidly and long, I scarce remember how To sing the Pilgrim's song. There is so much undone Of what I have to do, Were it for this alone I hesitate to go. The Recreation of Weary Days. 11 My labours incomplete, My lips Heaven's song untaught, I know not how to meet The Judge of every thought. For self, for others too, There is so much I need; Saviour, I cannot go, Thy sparing Love I plead. Spare me, Saviour, spare, Yet not for suffering, But to enjoy my share Of happy labouring. My former strength- 1 ask, Yea, Thine wrought out in me. That I my appointed task May work right faithfully. And when by Grace 'tis ended, Then bid me, Lord, to come, My work with Thine well-blended, Perfect will be my Home. 12 Wayside Thoughts. M Now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face." (1 Cor. xiii. 12.) - What know we here below, Poor Creatures of a Day? Unknown each step we go Along our weary way: Dark, through a glass, our brightest vision here, For Power Divine nigh fails to make it clear. Dost wonder that the cloud So often intervenes? Or darkness should enshroud Life's purest, happiest scenes? Tis that our aching vision should be spared, And thus for future usefulness prepared. Yet, oh! how longs the Mind To pierce the very sky! To wander unconfined O'er its futurity! But Mercy 'tis the unforeseen conceals, Nor to the longing heart its paths reveals. The Recreation of Weary Days. 13 Dark then let vision be; Enough is fully known, Hereafter shall we see Our path with flowers strown ; E'en blindness-self a real blessing prove, And bounded sight a gift of Perfect Love. Be sure that what is ours Is happiest and best; Our noblest, highest powers Need curbing, peace, and rest; Could clearest faith the present life survey, How deep our longings to be far away! Or were its pathway traced In characters of joy, Its labours all embraced In holiest employ, How should we cling to this our sin-stained earth, Or value life beyond its proper worth! Praise then be ours to give For this our bounded sight, 'Twere not for man to live In an unclouded light ; The cloud, the darkness, and the twilight here Are blessed tokens of a happier sphere. 14 Wayside Thoughts. Nor long shall sight be dim; Christ has prepared a place Where we shall rest in Him, And see Him face to face ; That will be vision boundless and complete When all perfections in the Lord shall meet. Lord, make it mine, I pray, Let faith embrace the hour When shadows flee away Before Thy rising power; Content I'll wait, and patient learn to trace, Each gleam of brightness from Thy wondrous grace. VI. «' As thy days, so shall thy strength be." (Deut. xxxiii. 25.) Life's morning, as the sunlight warms it, shines; Life's evening sets because its sun declines; Its midday glories on its Lord depend, From Him its birth, continuance, and end. And yet what hindrances the spirit chill Ere life's acknowledged purpose we fulfil ! Its best desire, its most exalted aim, Do but its earthly origin proclaim. The Recreation of Weary Days. 15 Eenewed and chastened, purified by fire, Its upward flight would fain be daily higher, Yet see how each reiterated blow Curtails its power, or even lays it low. How needed then some Promise to sustain ! Whence power sufficient to support it gain? The answer clear; we find it in the Word, The Promise sure, for strength is in the Lord. "E'en as thy days, so shall His strength be Thine," Thy strength from Him, 'tis sure because divine; Thy power according to thy need is lent, And grace sufficient for each duty sent. Long, weary, sin-tried is thy pilgrimage? The longer dost thou Heavenly aid engage. Brief and uncertain, hastening to decay, Are these thy days? more aided is thy way. Thy days are clouded and their light obscured, Thy footsteps through the wilderness allured? The nearer is the Arm on which to rest, Thyself of God more lovingly caressed. The dearest ties of earth are seen to break, And one by one the hand of death to take? 16 Wayside Thoughts. The Heavenly Presence is the closer brought, And power to grasp it the more surely taught. Dost ask what truth thou should'st from this receive ? Thine all to an Almighty Father leave: Thy days appointed, guarded in His hand, Life, death, and glory are at His command. VII. " Peace, be still." (Mark iv. 39, " Peace, be still, " rebellious spirit, Child of an apostate race ; Would'st thou wrath as well inherit. Loss of all protecting grace ? "Peace, be still," what can rejection Of th' Almighty's will avail ? Can it alter the complexion Of one loss thy sins entail? The Recreation of Weary Days. 17 "Peace, be still:" it is the teaching Of a love that knows thy want — Love that to the future reaching, Would thy waywardness supplant. " Peace, be still :" He calms the tossing Of the most tempestuous sea ; Thinkest thou, thy will in crossing, His power bears no calm to thee? " Peace, be still :" there is a reason For each storm He wills to send ; Doubt a trouble, — it is treason, If thou knowest not its end. "Peace, be still:" of Satan's error Thy rebellion thus partakes; Wonder not if home of terror Thine own headstrong folly makes. "Peace, be still:" 'tis Heaven's treasure After a long toil enjoyed ; Let it be thy choicest pleasure In its search to be employed, c 18 Wayside Thoughts. "Peace, be still :" yet none save Jesus Can the rebel spirit break; But He died, He lives to free us For His Name's, His Glory's sake. " Peace, be still:" 'tis He must bid it; He must chain and guide the will : By a word He calms the spirit, And He speaks it, "Peace, be still." VIII. " The day is thine, the night also is thine : thou hast pre- pared the light and the sun." (Psalm lxxiv. 16.) The day is Thine, Lord, and Thine the night; Who dares to question Thine unerring hand? Thou hast the sun prepared, and formed the light; Who doubts obedience to Thy just command? My rebel heart would gladly find excuse For some rejection of Thy gracious will; In health, so easy is it to refuse, So hard in suffering-hour to lie still! The Recreation of Weary Days. 19 Then bless'd the Spirit that imprints Thy word Upon the very portals of my heart; That makes both health and sickness to record How great, how merciful, Lord, Thou art. Thine is the day, I have rejoiced to learn, From Thee my strength, from Thee to serve the hour; No word to speak, no step is mine to turn, But Thou in love apportionest the power. Thine is the night, at length I have been taught To feel its darkness as a gift from Thee ; By Thee each step of sorrow has been brought, That I in all may know Thy constancy. And Thine I would have day and night to be, Safe in Thy hands as long as life shall last ; Their joys and sorrows I'll derive from Thee, Till shade and sunshine are for ever past. c2 20 Wayside Thoughts IX. • f Be of good cheer ; it is I; be not afraid." (Matt. xiv. 27.) Storm-tossed, and toiling Masterless, The best loved servants of the Lord may be ; Cast down, despairing, powerless, Feeling full sadly their infirmity : Behold the loved disciples thus in perilous distress Toiling by their Lord's command upon the Sea of Galilee. Not Masterless then, sufferer, Although thy path be on the stormy sea: Appointed by the Saviour, That path is one wherein you ought to be : Be sure 'tis prayer-defended by the Great Deliverer. No less than were disciples on the Sea of Galilee. Long dreary hours of toil were theirs ; And dost thou think there shall be less for thee ? Nor, when the Lord Himself appears, The form of loving Master can they see : Ah ! wonder not that Jesus' presence should excite thy fears ; 'Twas thus with the disciples on the Sea of Galilee. The Recreation of Weary Days. 21 He walked upon the highest waves — No crest too high, no blast of storm too free ; O'er all, in all, from all He saves — His power boundless as Eternity : He plucks as He sees fit, from earthly tomb or ocean graves ; 'Twas thus He saved His servants on the Sea of Galilee. Their souls within them terrified, Tis e'en a spirit that they think they see; Nor scarce less fearful when He cried, "Be of good cheer, why thus affrighted be ? 'Tis I ; be not afraid ; your loving Master at your side, What evil can befall you on the Sea of Galilee ? " O Gracious Voice of Love Divine ! Soft with the words of tender sympathy ! How oft, when scarce 1 knew them Thine, Hast Thou in loving-kindness beamed on me ! Well may I take Thy cheering words, and ever make them mine, They comforted disciples on the Sea of Galilee. 22 Wayside Thoughts. When earthly trials overwhelm, And storms of dreaded ill encompass me ; When tempests o'er me hurrying seem, And troubles gather in intensity, I'll think of One, not only near, but guiding at the helm, — The same that cheered His servants on the Sea of Galilee. "Be of good cheer, thou troubled heart," Engraven on each darkest cloud I see ; "Tis I, and I would bear a part In all thy complicated misery." Thus would I hear the Voice of Love at troubles' each new smart — The Voice that spoke with power on the Sea of Galilee. "Be not afraid;" and stilled is fear, No more shall strengthened heart urge terror's plea : Nay, if He bids me to draw near On highest waters of the troubled sea, I shrink not at the summons, for I've simply learned to hear The Voice that spoke Divinely on the Sea of Galilee. The Recreation of Weary Days. 23 X. " There remaineth a rest to the people of God." (Heb. iv. 9.) I know there's a rest by the light of creation, 'Twas the dawn of the future when the world, was complete, 'Twas the Saviour's blest Sabbath that knows no cessation, The centre of glory where His attributes meet. I know there's a rest by the Paradise blessings In the time of man's innocence fully enjoyed ; As for Man, he was born for paternal caressings, And in Sabbath communion is he fitly employed. I know there's a rest by the glow yet remaining From the Sun which then rose to give light to our race, Nor has Sin's darkened landscape, its features re- taining, Prevailed the glad rays of that light to efface. I know there's a rest by the absence of Jesus ; Where'er He is present in glory there's peace ; I can feel that in mercy He's preparing to free us, And His work when accomplished is perfect release. 24 Wayside Thoughts. I know there's a rest by the wants of the toiling, By the streams so abundant of sorrowers' tears, By the storms of affliction the purest hearts soiling, By the cries of the mourner, by the sinking one's fears . I know there's a rest by the thirst of the spirit — Every beat of its pulse is a proof of its home ; There are joys in the future that it longs to inherit, And its cravings are met by the rest yet to come. I know there's a rest by the promise once made me ; Tis the rest of the angels no less than my own ; Tis the rest of my Father, and the Spirit has bade me Look to Him for my hope of enjoyment alone. I know there's a rest by the joys that enliven, By the conquests I'm gaining and the struggles sustained ; How the tongue will rejoice when the blessing is given To be telling for ever how the rest was obtained! The Recreation of Weary Days. 25 XL 11 Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins ?" (Lam. iii. 39.) And wherefore doth a man, A living man, complain Of that which God apportions Of trial's time or place? His mind on folly set, He surely must forget The thousand solemn cautions Of reason and of grace. The Lord of our salvation, On whom each distant nation Shall ere long suppliant call, The Lord of love and might, The Lord of earth and heaven, To whom all power is given, Shall not He, the Judge of all, Do only what is right? Then measure what is sent As 'twere in punishment, What trial can be greater than A man's desert of sin ? 26 Wayside Thoughts. Let every blessing cease; Let there be no release From trouble, even then man's Complaint should ne'er begin. What if the soul be tossed, And purposes be crossed, And all seems made to minister To sorrow's sharpest blow ? The soul is not so free As it was wont to be, And purposes full sinister Have stopped the spirit's flow. Have riches taken wing? Do sad reverses bring A loss of the position So coveted by all ? Some failure there must be Of heart's simplicity, So painful the transition, So terrible the fall! What if the body fail, And sicknesses entail The loss of all the power The frame has long enjoyed? The Recreation of Weary Days, 27 Has there been no abuse, Without one true excuse, Of every passing hour That could be well employed? The eyes, oh ! how they wander ! The hands, oh ! how they pander To the heart's too ready seeking Some strange forbidden fruit ! The lips of guile so full, So indolent the soul, The tongue e'en shrinks from speaking Before the throne its suit. No wonder if in wrath The Lord should hedge our path, And silence every utterance From creatures so defiled; For let us not forget That 'tis in mercy yet Existence is a sufferance From punishment beguiled. Grant then the trial sent By way of punishment, — Its object judgment, not in love A sinner's heart to win ; 28 Wayside Thoughts. Still would we say again, Shall living man complain At trials sent to prove The height, the depth, of sin ? The rather should we wonder That Sinai's loud thunder Has not proclaimed in anger The sinner's awful doom ; He lives, and life is spared That Jesus may be heard Delivering from danger And rifling the tomb. We live: then ne'er again Will coward heart complain Of trial's fiercest hour Encompassing the soul ; We look to Jesus' cross, And count all else but loss, That we may gain the power For fear's, for faith's control. The Recreation of Weary Days. 29 XII. FEAR'S MURMTJRINGS AND FAITH'S ANSWERS. FEAR'S MURMURINGS. When days are dark and dreary, And earth itself is cold, The heart grows sad and weary, Cast in a kindred mould ; When corn invites no reaping, And harvest is delayed, The Pastor thinks with weeping Of souls that are half dead. faith's answer. And what though the vines be failing, Or the fig-tree no blossom bear? Not a cry shall be heard of wailing, Not a thought be embraced of fear : My heart shall its courage gather From the Lord who protects His own, I know that my Heavenly Father Never leaves His own work undone. 30 Wayside Thoughts. fear's murmurixgs. The storm around us darkens, The sky is overcast, Each ear with terror hearkens To showers falling fast: Fit emblem, thinks the Pastor, Of dangers to his home, From Satan working faster Because his hour is come. FAITH S ANSWER, And what though the Lord should tarry, Or His chariot stay its course? Not a promise of His can miscarry, Not a word ever lose its force; For the time of distress and sorrow He has promised His special grace; In His hand is the unknown morrow, And each lamb has its chosen place. fear's murmurings. But see what changes hasten! What troubles without end ! How Death's sharp talons fasten On dearest, strongest friend ! The Recreation of Weary Days. 31 Whose welcome kind shall gladden The Pastor's late return ? Whose loss his heart shall sadden ? Who cease with love to burn? FAITH S ANSWER. What though the earth be upheaving, And the hills be o'erwhelmed by the sea? Not a fear shall disturb my believing That the Lord is a Father to me : And, if Father, I know He's providing Each blessing and mercy enjoyed, But I think not of one as abiding, Or the gold to be mine unalloyed. FEAR S MURMUR1NGS. What too if sickness lingers, And trials new unfold? Perchance Death's icy fingers On me may lay their hold : What if no friendly greeting Shall e'er again be given ? Or tongue should cease repeating The claims and joys of Heaven? 32 Wayside Thoughts. faith's answer. E'en though the Lord should slay me, Yet in Him will I put my trust ; Not a power of Death shall delay me, Though the flesh be returned to its dust : Nought from Jesus and Heaven can sever The dear ones surrounding Him there, We shall meet, as redeemed for ever, Eternity's glory to share. XIII. "It pleased the Father that in Him (Christ Jesus) should all fulness dwell." (Col. i. 19.) In sorrow's chill hour when in vain aid is sought, When the soul to the verge of despair has been brought, How full of sweet comfort and blessing the thought, Jesus is mine ! By Satan assaulted, how deep the dejection Of heart and of soul from the sad recollection Of failures so frequent ! Then blest the reflection, Jesus knows all! The Recreation of Weary Days, 33 The sins of the past rise in judgment to frighten, While the mercies neglected th' ingratitude heighten, A single remembrance all my hope seems to brighten, Jesus is Saviour. The path of the future is beset all around With dangers unnumbered, and terrors abound, What joy should be ours one truth to have found, Jesus yet lives. For what as to darkness when the true light is given ? Who speaks of despair when supported from Heaven ? By one revelation from the soul fear is driven, Jesus is all. Let Satan assault us with trouble or wo, With fiercer temptations and heaviest blow, We ne'er can forget he's a well-vanquished foe, Jesus has conquered. Let conscience accuse us of sin and transgression, So deep and continued as to baffle confession, Full pardon we find in the one blest expression, Jesus has died. And so for the future, our Jesus yet lives, And grace and support in abundance He gives, Each saint hope and joy from the blessing derives, Jesus is King. D 34 Wayside Thoughts. Then courage, faint-hearted, be cast down no longer If Satan be strong, there is One who is stronger, 'Tis Jesus, King, Saviour, the Victor though Crucified, He knows all, He is all, He lives though He died, And Jesus is Thine. XIV. THE TEACHER AND THE TAUGHT. " For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." (2 Cor. iv. 17.) Who shall now speak of his afflictions' weight ? The burthen who shall now refuse to bear? If thus th' Apostle calls his sufferings light And finds so much his weary heart to cheer? On every side in trouble, yet his mind Free from distress : perplexed his soul within. Yet not despairing ; privileged to find, Though persecuted, sympathy Divine. Cast down in heart, yet rising from the blow; And bearing in his body Jesus' death, E'en thus he faints not, for though lying low He lives to Christ the more by every breath. The Recreation of Weary Days. 35 And hence he calls his deep afflictions light ; They last but for a moment, and are charged With greater and eternal glory's weight, Their subject strengthened and their scope enlarged. THE TAUGHT. Light my trials and temptation, When with others they're compared: Oh ! for greater resignation From the knowing they are shared ! Shared by Saints, Apostles, Martyrs, Heroes of the written Word; Shared by Adam's sons and daughters, Feeblest servants of the Lord. Light my trials when I measure The desert of life-long sin; Light when thinking of the treasure That improved they bear within. " For a moment " is my sorrow, Should it last a whole life's span, Joy is sure to come to-morrow, So does Mercy deal with man. d 2 36 Wayside Thoughts. Nay, my trials are a blessing In the work they have to do. Standing out a plain confessing Of a glory now in view. Their aim to ^x the soul on Heaven, And for glory to prepare, With Christ to suffer it is given, And His kingdom thence to share. What shall I then call my trials? Pledges of the promised land, Not of wrath, but peace, the vials, Poured from Jesus' loving hand. Shall I bear them ? Yea, I'll praise Him, Glorious giver of all joy, Seek in all my woes to trace Him. And rejoice in the employ. The Recreation of Weary Days. 37 XV. PRECIOUS PROMISES. u When thou passest through the waters, I mil be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned." (Isaiah xliii. 2.) Sorrowing brother, cease to listen To the torrents' deafning sound, See the waters sunlit glisten, Though the clouds are gath'ring round. Suffering brother, leave, I pray you, Shudd'ring at the depth of river. See the Guide who'll ne'er betray you, Standing ready to deliver. Sin-scarred brother, wait no longer Testing what the heat of fire, The flame of Heavenly Love is stronger, See its light is spreading higher. 'Twere enough for sinful creatures, Living in a world of wo, To be sure that sorrow's features Must be scanned by all below : 38 Wayside Thoughts. Yet it bears a higher teaching, Hear its words of tender love, Human wo is ever reaching To a Brother's heart above : And that Brother bids us call Him " Dear companion, tenderest guide." Thus for all that can befall him Man shall feel a friend beside. Oh ! how clear His voice entreating Ere a drop of sorrow falls, Words of comfort oft repeating How to fearful souls He calls ! " When thou goest through the waters I am with thee, sorrowing friend, Tell it to thy sons and daughters, Heavenly patience knows no end : " When thou goest through the river Not a ripple shall o'erflow thee, I am with thee to deliver, Surest hand is then below thee. The Recreation of Weary Days. 39 " When thou walkest through the fires Fear no roar of kindling flame, Love's no feeblest spark expires, Ever is its light the same." Say we then, brother, truly That the streams are glistening bright, Warn we every sorrower duly Lest he dread the river's height: What of fire or torrent's roaring? Voice there is above all wo, Drawn by that allurement, soaring Souls may lose all sounds below. XVI. 1 ( Watchman, what of the night ? Watchman, what of the night? The watchman said, The morning cometh, and also the night." (Isaiah xxi. 11, 12.) What of the night? Watchman, say, What of the night? Though sun be far away The moon is bright; What of the night? Watchman, what dost thou say? Thou hast seen all of it: tell me, I pray. 40 Wayside Thoughts. " The morning is coming fast, s " So is the night ; " The hours they hurry past, " Soon 'twill be light, "The day comes, the night comes." So doth the Watchman say ; Heed it, ye sleepers, drive your slumbers away. 'Tis in night that the sleeper wakes, Darkness around ; When for soul a man counsel takes, Trials abound ; Blessed be the word then of Watchman, we say, For it tells more of night than it does of the day, Do the nights become drearier, Sorely-tried soul? And the heart it grows wearier, Beyond controul? The night may be dark, yet drive sorrow away, Thy fears shall the sunlight of morning allay, Nor is it all dark around, Moon shineth clear ; Some help, if not light, is found, Watchman is here : Are the night-watches ours? Bid them welcome we may, For they teach us to watch, and to wait, and to pray. The Recreation of Weary Days. 41 Night and day may be dreariest, Oh, who can tell? When the tried are the weariest, Know it is well: And think it not wisdom in sorrow to say, " How I dread the long night, how I long for the day!" Leave to God times of sorrow, friend, All is not night; If we must seek a morrow's end, Look for the light: One moment desire and long for we may, 'Tis the dawn of the morning, eternity's day. The day of my Master Lord, And it is mine: I have his undoubted word, He there doth shine; Our sorrows all ended, our tears wiped away, Oh ! for the foretaste of that cloudless day ! 42 Wayside Thoughts. XVII. e( For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." (2 Cor. v. 1.) And is this mortal frame For dissolution made? Shall men of boundless fame Within the earth be laid? A temple of the Everliving God Be mixed with earth, an undistinguished clod? Poor tenement of clay, How frail thy lifelong power! The creature of a day! The sport of every hour ! Thy helpless ruin from thy birth begun, Though years from time's inheritance be won. Who shall not mourn thy fall? Thy frailty who forget? For give to joy thy all, Thou art but dust as yet, Thy brightest days a period of decay, Thy highest beauties doomed to pass away. The Recreation of Weary Days. 43 Yet art thou image bright Of God, though under curse, Reflexion of the light That warms the universe, And hence immortal, though of worms the heir. In endless glory destined to appear. Peace to thy very dust! We hail its destiny; When death's strong chain is burst, Thy triumph we shall see, Each grain of thine bears germ of life within, Thou losest earth, eternity to win. Oh ! for the glorious change For this our frame prepared ! How all its powers will range O'er realms by angels shared! The Master calls, the dead in Christ obey, And forms celestial rise to endless day. Awake, dust, awake, The Master He is nigh; Prepare thy place to take With Him above the sky ; Like Him appear, and see Him as He is Surrounded by His Heavenly companies. 44 Wayside Thoughts. Thy form no more arrayed In perishable clay, Thy purest gold displayed, Thy dross all purged away : The perfect temple shall for ever shine With light and glory that in Christ are thine. XVIII. DEATH— TO THE EYE OF SENSE. What is death? Go, ask the Monarch Seated on the proudest throne, Power beyond him, stern and dark, King of Terrors he will own. What is death? Go, ask the mother Of her infant just bereft, She tells in grief she cannot smother Of a cruel act of theft. What is death? Go, hear the moaning Of the Victor's battlefields, Mid triumphs conscience must be owning Conquests that the tyrant wields. The Recreation of Weary Days. 45 What is death? Behold the deluge Sweeping past in pestilence, Not a hope is found of refuge, Human skill is impotence. What is death? Behold the nations Perishing from age to age, Endless stream without cessation, Close of every pilgrimage. Ruthless tyrant, at thy power Well may boldest stand appalled, Naught avails thy hand to lower, King of Terrors rightly called. Such is death to mortal senses, Foe unknown though ever near, Scatt'ring all our vain pretences, Every step a cause of fear. Sin its parent, sin its token, Sin its never-failing sting, Well may soul of man be broken In the hand of such a King. 46 Wayside Thoughts. Well may every hope within me Sink at its uncurbed approach; What can to a smile then win me, E'en its presence my reproach? Seen by eye of sense it makes me In each pulse with dread to thrill, Courage fails, and hope forsakes me, Taken captive at its will. XIX. DEATH— TO THE EYE OF FAITH. Were eye of sense alone to guide us Who could bear on earth to live? Well knowing what must soon betide us E'en to death our all to give? But 'tis not so the Lord has bound us To the body of this death, His loving Providence has found us Blest release in eye of faith. The Recreation of Weary Days. 47 And this Heaven-sent sure director Not mere things of earth reveals, But it claims to be protector, Breaking of the grave the seals: Faith our guide, nor less defender, Strips of every fear the tomb. Opening to our view the splendour Of the eternal living home. What is our death? If heart be asking, Answer is at once prepared, No need of fear's or fancy's tasking, Tis a step by Jesus shared. Shared by Him the Lord of Glory, Oh how changed its every feature! 'Tis ours, not death's, the victory, Ransomed from its power the creature : Ransomed and victorious proving, What shall make our hearts afraid? Sting and burthen once removing Jesus on Himself hath laid. 48 Wayside Thoughts. What then death to heirs of Heaven? Gilded portal to the Mansion Which to Sons of God is given, Opening of life's expansion ! What is death? The glorious passage To a bright inheritance ; Cold and cheerless? Yet the presage Of the soul's assured advance. What is death ? As Jordan's river Stream bj Jesus' presence blest, Waters opened to deliver Sons when journeying to rest. What is death ? A peaceful sleeping Of the body we now have : Cause of nature's saddest weeping When it views the loved one's grave ; Yet how soul of friend rejoices When the glorious scenes unfold, Where the lost ones mingle voices With the angels' harps of gold ! The Recreation of Weary Days. 49 Death may be the bitter breaking Of the dearest human ties, But no less is it the waking Of celestial harmonies. Where thy sting then, tyrant dreaded? Where thy victory, grave ? Jesus by His death has pleaded, Jesus living loves to save. And faith tells me, when I'm treading In the valley of death's shade, That the Lord for me is pleading, Willing, waiting, pledged to aid. Shall I e'er henceforth be fearing As I journey to the tomb ? Peace, my soul, as thou art nearing Thine own blest eternal home. Wake, wake, thou living power, Precious gift of simple faith, Anticipate the coming hour Of the mortal body's death. 50 Wayside Thoughts. Give thy flight its full expansion-. Rise with an untiring wing, Death's a welcome to the mansion Of the everliving King. XX, Nice, Sept. 12, 1860. — The Emperor of the French pays his first visit to his newly acquired dominions. Hail ! self-created monarch of as fair a land As e'er was taught to bow to emperor's command ! Thy people greet thee as their own appointed lord, Yet mid their shouts of welcome hear a stranger's word : Would that to thee to learn this solemn truth were given, That none but righteous thrones are owned and blessed of Heav'n. What though to thee, Oh King, belongs a magic name To France recalling memories of her proudest fame. To thee suggestive of the empire of the world, And kings from ancient thrones by imperial vict'ries hurled? Forget not Him to whom the proudest must succumb, The Victor's double exile, and his desert tomb. The Recreation of Weary Days. 51 Wouldst thou, as though obedient to his thirst for gain, Extend thy fair dominion to the Rhenish plain ? Thy claim scarce yet established to the Alpine height, Wouldst thou secure the Rhine by treaty or by fight? Midst all thy conquests let this simple truth be told, A nation's subject heart can ne'er be forced nor sold. Or should perchance a subtle thought be entertained Of that which ne'er in highest glory could be gained, Proud Albion's fall ? and dost thou plan to wipe away The stain of Waterloo, that marks thy name for ay? A million warrior voices seem to rend the air, " Know that thou hast to beard the Lion in his lair ! " " The empire it is peace," thine own deliberate word, Let then its peaceful echoes every day be heard ; Disband thy forces gathered at thy stern command, At best to prey upon the vitals of thy land; Know that thy truest glory is to check their rage, And in the arts of peace their highest powers engage. France has unsullied glories in the empire past, Borne down to ages e'en as long as time shall last ; Thou canst add naught in war to her imperial fame, The world acknowledges her widest martial claim ; Thy destiny is peace, and to enhance her might As arbitress of nations' wrong and freedom's right. e 2 52 Wayside Thoughts, And wilt thou not accept the honour which is given, A world-wide power of good appointed thee of Heaven? Lay bare thine arm, if lust of war constrain, And deluge Europe's fairest plains with blood again, But know, whatever power or might thou dost employ, There is a King above, almighty to destroy. By Him kings reign on earth and monarchs hold their throne, He has the nations in His hand and He alone ; Obey his righteous laws, thy throne shall ne'er be moved, France guided by his counsel, and thy cause approved, Crowns of eternal glory shall be given to thee, And bless'd of Heaven and earth shall be thy dynasty XXI. THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY PSALM LXXXIV. " The prisoner of the Lord kept from the sanctuary." What these bands their glad way bending, Day by day their line extending, To Zion, city of their King? Heart and tongue so well employing, Surely they have cause for joying, Thus constrained it is they sing. The Recreation of Weary Days. 53 Yes, glad pilgrims, well may voices Tell that every heart rejoices, Strange if chorus did not swell ; Ye are of salvation speaking, While its temple ye are seeking, And ye know its portals well. Thrice the glad assembly calls you, Year by year no chance befalls you. As you wend your well-known way, Blessed feast, that well supplieth Every want that* in you lieth, Whose glad step would e'er delay? None can fail when God is guiding ; On His perfect love confiding, Sure ye go from strength to strength ; Where no streams abundance proffer, Spring or well pure waters offer, And all reach your home at length. And when shall I my steps be bending, Gratitude its quickness lending, To the courts of worship here? Month by month my day-cloud thickens This poor dying body sickens, Chilling hope and kindling fear. 54 Wayside Thoughts Sabbath after Sabbath passes, Blessed tokens in life's mazes Of its end and purpose now, Y^et for me no congregation, No, nor solemn invitation Doth the Lord to me allow. Lord, in such a time of trial, Time of privilege- denial, What can thy poor servant do ! Seek a Spring that's never failing, Try a Source for ay availing, Cast himself on Thee alone. Lord of Love, then let Thy favour Beam on me, and thus the savour Of Thy House with me shall dwell . Father, do Thou Thyself become My Sanctuary and my Home, I shall then Thy way know well. How Thou dost in Love deny me Temple service, e'en to try me, If in Christ I find my joy ; If, when earthly blessings fail me And no prayers of hope avail me, 1 can still glad praise employ. The Recreation of Weary Days. 55 Yes, and, as the weeks are flying, I am with Thy will complying, Learning as to things of earth, How they perish in the using, Without man's the least abusing, At the best, but little worth. Things of Heaven, these I'm learning How beyond the earth, discerning Whence their real source and spring ; Let me only this be reaching, Hard though be the mode of teaching, And true worship I shall bring. So when Thou hast fully taught me All through Christ is daily brought me, He the channel and the fount, Other waters, I'll reject them, Purest waters, I'll expect them. From the real Zion-Mount. Only be Thou very nigh me, With Thy strength and grace supply me, I will learn to bear Thy will; Content to find a power reach me That is willing thus to teach me Faith's first precious truth,' "Be still." 56 Wayside Thoughts. XXII. 11 Jesus wept." (John xi. 35.) " Jesus wept": — behold the man Is one with us in sorrowing, no less than one in joy : Love refuse Hini, if we can. Or in His blessed company a chastened heart t'employ. " Jesus wept " : — a grave the scene, And friendly eyes were near Him there, all moistened with their tears ; Oh ! if near Him I had been, I could not better love the Lord, or banish all my fears. " Jesus wept " : — then fears of death, Fears of the sad parting with the friends of loving days, All are hushed, and every breath Of doubting is now silenced as to God's appointed ways. The Recreation of Weary Days. 57 " Jesus wept ": — by act divine He sanctified our suffering, and made it holy ground : What if sorrow then be mine? My soul shall e'er rejoice in this, His footsteps to have found. " Jesus wept " : — let every wo Find its own glad refuge in our Rock's unfailing shade, Making of each step we go A path of consecration wherein Jesus lends His aid. XXIII. THE PASTOR'S DOUBLE HARVEST. c They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." (Psalm cxxvi. 5.) There is no fallow- time for thee, my soul ; If such there can be, it must surely be When sowing most for others, toiling hard To break unwilling soil, and planting deep In that bright vineyard plot marked out for thee. And so it has been : for in keeping it Thine own poor garden-ground thou hast not kept : 'Twas lying far too fallow; — hence the love, That blesses labourer and labour too, 58 Wayside Thoughts. Has bade thee leave thy plot awhile, and see The power that fits for the successful toil. In tears must be thy sowing — thou shalt learn To weep for all thy feebleness, fatigue, And fickleness of service, thine unrest When peace was ordered, and thy fears when faith. The souls ungained, the brands from fire unplucked The poor unaided, and the babes unfed, Thy Gospel's sad uncertainty of sound, A Father's love untaught or unexplained, A Saviour's fulness limited, the work Of full free grace unfelt if not unsought; For these thou hast to weep, and weeping learn How best to toil for Christ and reap in joy. Oh ! love transcendent, that for such an end Dost smite the labourer, banish him his toil, And take him to the Wilderness awhile. Be comforted, my soul : — the blow is hard, But every stroke that brings a tear is good; To weep is thine, thine own appointed work When voice is hushed and sickness lays thee low. Yea, this thy sowing-time. Then broadcast sow, Sow beside all the waters that come in As though to drown thee ; Christ the Lord is nigh To lower or raise the stream, in love to guide ; Thy work is His, the toil and reaping too ; The Recreation of Weary Days. 59 With Him together we rejoice ; and He Will never let His work dishonoured be. Joy in thy sorrow then, my suffering soul, Count it all joy by suffering thus to learn ; Sow broadcast of the word, drink deep the fount Of springing life, break up each clod of earth That can obstruct the seed's full energy ; Rich harvest is for thee of grace and power Of strength and comfort from this silent work. For others thou art gathering: when once The hand is full and ready to be used, Thou shaft go out, rejoicing to cast forth The bread that thou hast gained, full far and wide And bring fresh sheaves of glory to the Saviour's side. XXIV. ADVENT. Amid the darkness that surrounds us, And the Heaven's thunder-cleavings, Amid the terrors that confound us At the earth's distinct upheavings, What the increasing gleam of brightness That fills the air with balmy lightness? Lo ! 'tis the coming of my Lord and Master, Would, would that I could speed it faster ! 60 Wayside Thoughts. He comes; and this our world's transgression Bids us first of judgment think, While conscience uttering her confession Stands upon destruction's brink ; But not so faith* with her glad leadings, She well remembers Jesu's pleadings, Then hears glad voices of a Saviour sing, And fain would speed His Advent's wing. The Saviour comes ; no more to suffer, No more to die upon the cross, No more salvation's gift to offer Through trial, suffering, and loss ; He comes to take His ransomed bride And place her by His glorious side ; And I too, if I patiently abide Him, Shall have my happy place beside Him. Glad welcome then to every sorrow That seems to tell of shade and night, There must be soon a bright to-morrow, Methinks I see its early light ; " When troubles thicken, " Jesus said, " My people, then lift up your head, "It is the sign that your redemption draweth nigh, " Abide, abide it patiently." The Recreation of Weary Days. 61 Thrice blessed prospect of redemption ! Well may it fill the heart with gladness ! For 'tis the promise of exemption From all that chills our life of sadness ; Yea, 'tis the presence of the Saviour Omnipotent with love and favour ; He comes : let heaven and earth prepare His throne , He comes to triumph in His own. And I am His, and He is mine, I know it by the love I feel, Through Him my gleams of mercy shine, To Him my heart makes fond appeal : Come, come, thou long-desired Master, Speed on Thy chariot- wheel yet faster, Prepare the nations, be Thy church's Saviour, And take Thy Throne, O King, for ever. Nice, 1860. XXV. " Wherefore glorify God in the fires. w (Isaiah xxiv. 15.) Time of anguish, time of sorrow, 'Tis no time for mortal praise, Some other mould the sufferer must borrow Ere he can sing as in his happier days. 62 Wayside Thoughts. But who asks it? not our Father. He who every trial sends, He mocks not our sufferings, but the rathei For every sorrow gracious succour lends. Jesus asks not ; for He knoweth Full too well the sufferer's part; His loving sympathy the wider groweth, As each new sorrow tries His servant's heart. The Spirit asks not ; for He's waiting To be graciously employed, With His own blessed comforts compensating For every toil, and most when unalloyed. Nor is praise what God requires, ? Tis not tempted that we sing ; To " glorify the Lord within the fires, " This is the tribute that He bids us bring. His blessed Name to glorify, God of Mercy, God of Grace ; And this His child can do in every cry By looking up to Him with smiling face The Recreation of Weary Days, 63 His Work of Love to glorify ; Lowly patience, simple faith, By these the suffering soul can best reply To all that doubting world or tempter saitib His own Dear Son to glorify, Saviour most in trial's hour ; Prove it by drawing from His rich supply, And all around will feel the gracious power, Oh ! for the grace to glorify Jesus' love within the fires ; Praise shall be sung to all eternity, When joy in God fulfils the soul's desir XXVI. CHRISTMAS DAY. Ah! gladdest of all glad — the night That shepherds crowned with angels' light, Far brightest of all bright the morn That said, " To" us a child is born." 'Tis Host of Heaven that enraptured sing Redemption's glory messengers to bring, 64 Wayside Thoughts. Age on Age was quickly passing, Wo on wo unchecked amassing, When the glad tidings broke from heav'n, " To us, to us a son is given;" Well might the earth with glowing rapture swell And rival angels in the joy they tell. The King of Kings the manger holds, Jesus Bethlehem's stall enfolds, Immanuel in the flesh is seen, A glory that had never been ; Whose tongue could silent be ? whose heart refuse Its burst of gladness at the w r elcome news ? Yes, all shall sing the blessed story: Tell we henceforth Immanuel's glory, We triumph in that lowly birth, As sharing e'en the worst of earth ; " To us a child is born, to us a son,*' That we with Jesus may be ever one, Then carry on the joyful tiding, For 'tis " the Wonderful" abiding, " Counsellor and God Almighty, " The Father of Eternity, "The Prince of Peace : " go tell His love to men, And bid the nations visit Bethlehem. The Recreation of Weary Days. 65 There too we still each throb of sadness, There rest we every hope of gladness, Mercy and Truth together met, Who shall not there his woes forget? To Bethlehem's manger every sorrow bring, And learn of angels how for aye to sing. Nice, 1860. XXVII. CLOSE OF YEAR. Why do we love in evening hours To watch the sun in its decline, To trace it as it gently lowers Beyond our vision's boundary-line? Is it that, softest colours blending Their wondrous changes o'er the scene, We feel th' enchantment they are lending To hill and dale and each ravine? 'Tis that the eyes more calmly fasten On forms of shadow than of light, Entranced to view them as they hasten Or lengthen to embrace the night. F 66 Wayside Thoughts. Tis that the soberer tones of feeling Are most congenial to the mind, And these their furtherance or healing In twilight's solemn moments find. Who knows not that these moments wake Our memories of time gone by, Though dim and dark, as they partake Of all around insensibly? Who knows not the mysterious power That hangs o'er twilight's fading path, As telling of a coming hour Of world-wide darkness and of wrath? The present all so fitly shown In briefest glory, then in shade, Naught of the next brief moment known. But that it lives to shine and fade. Such story does the twilight tell ; And we, the creatures of a day, Must needs, as fleeting, like full well Such ending of our sunlit way. But oh ! if thus by evening taught Of doubting hope or trusting fear. How shall not every deepest thought Be wakened by the closing year ? The Recreation of Weary Days. 67 Not the declining of a sun, But earth gone down in wintry sadness ; A twelvemonth's course completely run Of joy and sorrow, woe and gladness: Not the mere colours softly blending Their transient beauties all around, But Nature very sternness lending To earth and sky, to sea and ground: Not the mere lengthening of the shade, And filling up each gleam of light, But summer long since seen to fade, And all enwrapped in folds of night: Not wakened memories dimly traced, Not kindling soberer tones of feeling, But life, in all its period faced, To conscience as its judge appealing. The past, a chain that, link by link, Connects us with a world unseen, And we, just standing on the brink, The creatures we have ever been : Each sin upon our spirit graven, Each mercy noted in its birth, Marked is each breath of love from Heav'n Just as it touched some spot of earth : f 2 68 Wayside Thoughts. And every day so marked and known ! Each moment heav'nly tokens wearing! Sure 'tis not memory wakes alone, But all stand out their record bearing: Each year and month and day and hour Has its own plainly written features, And closing years tell out with power These claims of God on all His creatures. The closing year! 'tis life just ending, Periods such as this forecast, A closing world still more portending The day of judgment nearing fast. What heart, then, at this solemn season Beats not responsive to its teaching? Why, 'tis the soul's best act of reason To present, past, and future reaching. And oh ! if reason thus direct us In thoughts of solemn doubt to share, How should not faith and love affect us Beholding mercy everywhere? Behold we this, and twilights tell Unnumbered truths to memory dear, Beholding this we love to dwell On every closing of the year. The Recreation of Weary Days. 69 Another year in mercy granted! Another year with blessings fraught! Why, 'tis an angel's tongue that's wanted To tell the story as we ought. But see how words will come apace To fill a grateful Christian's page, When he detects the Saviour's face As shining on his pilgrimage. Mark we the past by frequent losses? Each month and week its trial bears ? A Saviour's hand then points to crosses As God's best antidote to fears. There's naught so dark but what is brightened By that true glory from above, There's not a woe but must be lightened By gleams from that unending love. Is Nature's face enwrapped in gloom ? The winter does but nourish spring; In cold the flowers gain strength to bloom; And lengthened frosts best harvests bring. The sun goes down to rise again; In Christ the loved ones sleep to wake; Things dark shall at His word be plain, His heaviest clouds in mercy break. 70 Wayside Thought. For what of sin? 'tis all forgiven, When souls are cleansed in Jesus' blood ; The World unseen? His purchased Heav'n Is just beyond death's chilling flood. The future, whether joy or sorrow, Is all fore-known and well-arranged ; And He that holds the unknown morrow A purpose of His love ne'er changed. Then what if years go down in dulness ? The sunshine must be seen awhile ; We draw but from the Saviour's fulness And all around is seen to smile. Our days and years, our life and death, Our every time is in His hand, And He, who gave our earliest breath, Our life of glory shall command. Then live we for His glory here, By faith beholding that above, And banishing each shade of fear Bask in the sunshine of His love. Nice. 1860. The Recreation of Weary Days. XXVIII. { My times are in thy hand." (Psalm xxxi. 15.) My times in Thy Hand, Lord, There would I have them be, All rests on Thy good word, Nothing depends on me. Times of my sickness, each From Thy favour meted, All sent in love to teach The soul's health completed : My times of suffering So well arranged by Thee, My clouds of sorrowing Bursting so carefully : Times of yet deeper woe, By Satan invested, For trial come and go By Thy mercy tested : No drop is unbrightened By light of love divine, Each burthen is lightened By Jesus fixed as mine : 72 Wayside Thoughts. Times of my greatest joy, By Thee apportioned, Meet their exact alloy, Heart from Thee cautioned : My streams of pure blessing Flow faht from the mountain. Thy hand so well pressing Each drop from the fountain. Faith, love, and every grace From Thy great mercy spring. Salvation's time and place Thou dost, Father, bring. What then the thing of earth That can the mind enthral, If it derive its birth From Him who knoweth all? Sure it is well to leave All to a Father's care ; Much less a Christian grieve Aught at His word to share. Times are all best for me Thus by the Lord arranged; What a true rest for me When things by Him are changed! The Recreation of Weary Days. 73 Naught shall disturb my heart, Trusting my all above, God's purpose none can thwart, None stay His perfect love. That love I know is mine By Jesus' gift to me, His arm3 my life entwine, Saviour eternal He. His times my own for aye, My times His supplying, Life or death, night or day, On Him all relying, His will, my soul, await, Leave all to His command, And during life repeat, " My times are in Thy Hand." Nice, January 1st, 1861. 74 Wayside Thoughts. XXIX. " I go to prepare a place for you." (John xiv. 2.) "Many Mansions," Home of Glory, Jesus thither gone before ! Christian pilgrims, homeward soar ye, Soon you'll have to wait no more. ' 'Father's House," name how endearing! Heritage of Sons of God ! Suffering Christian, heart be cheering, Soon you'll reach your own abode. What can keep us from its blessing? Jesus now prepares our place ; Banish every thought distressing, At the bidding of His grace. Wait in patience Jesus' coming To Himself to take His own, In the distance there is looming Vision of the Coming One. Ever ready once believe Him To prepare us for our place, Making ready to receive Him We shall see Him face to face, The Recreation of Weary Days. 75 XXX. " Make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is ; that I may know how frail I am." (Bible Version, Psalm xxxix. 4.) Is it, Lord, too much to ask of Thee, To let me know my end ? How great the measure of my days may be To ask is not t'offend? Forgive me then if 1 would seek to know When Thou my soul wilt call ; Tis not that I unwilling am to go, Trusting to Thee my all. Faith bids me rest assured that a/1 my days Will have their blessing given, The past confirms th' assurance that my ways Are registered in Heaven. But yet I ask Thee ; for behold my aim My frailty is to see, To know what grace and mercy I must claim For all my life from Thee. So uniform Thy loving-kindness, Lord, So constant Thy kind care, That I am led sometimes to think Thy Word Is passed for resting here. 76 Wayside Thoughts. And Thou, Lord, knowest that I would not rest Here in the world below, A world whose hopes and pleasures stand confessed Inheritors of woe. To burst the bands that fetter me to earth My heaven-born spirit pines, I've learned to value at its proper worth Whate'er the soul confines. And hence my frailty I desire to learn How soon these earth scenes close, For thus in every time to Thee I turn For labour or repose. XXXI. " Lord, let me know mine end and the number of my days : that I may be certified how long I have to live." (Prayer Book Version, Psalm xxxix. 5.) Yes! 'tis a weak conceit to ask to know The end of life how near, Since plenteous streams of loving kindness flow Unceasing year by year. Enough for me that it is fixed and known By Him who orders all, By one who, saving, loves to make His own Whatever may us befal. The Recreation of Weary Days. 77 Perchance it might be pleasant to take count Of time yet left to me, And seem to calculate the full amount Of life's activity. So many labours might be undergone In hope their end to see ; c 'Tis finished" might be said of everyone Of works begun by me. The whole life brought within its proper space As far as man could tell, And I look up with a contented face For service done full well. But oh ! what weight of trouble would be mine To fill life's proper scene ! How would my spirit oftentimes repine For what my life has been ! T leave it now in loving Mercy's hand, Its end and space unknown, I rest each breath upon my Lord's command. And call not one my own: My labours, scanty though they be, are done Because I love my Lord, Their power developed, as it was begun, For He doth grace afford. 78 Wayside Thoughts. And life thus sought from Him is ever sure Its purpose to fulfil, Because His mercy cannot but endure To make it work His will. Not I, but Christ, is living evermore, In Christ I live my day; And if beyond my heart and spirit soar 'Tis on the Heav'nward way. That home may e'en be mine before to-morrow, And then my labours cease; There the true end of patience, as of sorrow, Life's end unending peace. The very thought of what the Lord may do Enkindles flame of love, It makes me on my toilsome way to go Enlightened from above. One thing is certain, " all uncertain here," And this for us is best, Our souls are kept in a believing fear, That here is not our rest. That rest we seek on each succeeding day, Depending on God's word, To Him commit each portion of our way, His own in Christ the Lord. The Recreation of Weary Days. 79 No anxious thought, but simple faith, we give To Him who is life's giver ; We're certified how long we have to live, " Henceforth with Christ for ever." XXXII. " And what hast thou that thou didst not receive ?" (1 Cor. iv. 7.) If aught should rest on thee alone, There's naught, man, to call thine own : Of all things present, all things past, Thine to receive, Tis God's to give The smallest blessing that thou hast. Thy life is fairly judged to be A something that belongs to thee, And yet which day, or even hour? Thine the living, God's the giving Thy breath and all thy vital power. The weary limbs demand repose, With sweetest sleep thine eyelids close, Yet when begin and wherefore cease? Thine the sleeping, God's the keeping His own beloved in rest and peace. 80 Wayside Thoughts. The morning calls thee to arise, Refreshed the frame at once complies, Yet whence the vigour to obey? Thine the waking, God's the making The term, the light, the life of day. Thou hast delights beyond the telling, All! 'tis thy tide of life-blood swelling, But whose the ocean of the love? Thine the joying, God's th' employing The winds, the springs, that waters move. Is sorrow thine appointed lot, And stranger intermeddleth not? Yet whence the fountain of thy tears? Thine the mourning, God's th' adorning With dew thy little world of fears. Or hast thou struggles sore and lengthened For each of which thy soul is strengthened? Who gives the issue of the fight? Thine the contest, Christ's the conquest, And God the Author of thy might. The Recreation of Weary Days. 81 When all thy trials are endured, Thy warfare ended, peace secured, What else remains for thee below ? Thine the dying, God's th' applying The perfect cure of all thy woe. He calls thee to thy future home, Then gives thee life and power to come, Thy crown, by whom the triumph won ? Thine for ever, For God never Has left His gracious work undone. Thy future with the Angels shared, Thy place by Jesus well prepared, Tis thine the mercy to explore, Thine the story, God's the glory, Oh ! be it His for evermore. XXXIII.