* LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, t , I A' {UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.! hi %>^ <%.«*-^^<^-^^^.^,^-%,'%.[p) M ■ ■ I r»r,■...•^■S■ l ».•'. , ■ I M ■ A* Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. Wbstcott & Thomson, StEBEOTYPERS, PffLLADA. CONTENTS. PAGE PREFACE 9 WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN? Caroline, Baroness of Nairn. 11 THE REVIEW OF LIFE Anonymous. 13 THE OLD FOLKS Anonymous. 34 NIGHTFALL Margaret Junkin. 36 FATHER, I KNOW Miss A. L. Waring. 38 OUR- ONE LIFE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 41 RETROSPECT Martin F. Tupper. 43 REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE Archibald Alexander, D.D. 45 CHRISTIAN GRACES FOR THE AGED Anonymous. 53 BRIDGES A. D. F. Randolph. 55 A LITTLE WHILE Greville. 58 THE FRUITLESS TREE John M. Lotvrie, D.D. 60 AFTERNOON Margaret Junkin. 62 OLD AGE ANTICIPATED ; Rev. Reuben Smith. 64 LOVING-KINDNESS Rev. Samuel Medley. 76 A FEW MORE DAYS Horatius Bonar, D.D. 78 ABIDE WITH ME Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. 80 GOD IS MY LIGHT Hengstenberg. 82 THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT Rev. Robert F. Sample. 84 3 4 CONTENTS. PAGE SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS Anonymous. 87 THY SAVIOUR'S PRAYER Anonymous. 94 THE AGED CHRISTIAN Anonymous. 96 THE VOICE FROM GALILEE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 99 THE FATHER-LAND From the German of Claus Harms. 101 THE PALM James Hamilton, D.D. 103 GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY James W. Alexander, D.D. 107 A NAME IN THE SAND Hannah F. Gould. 109 STILL WILL WE TRUST William H. Burleigh. Ill A PROSPECT OF HEAVEN Isaac Watts, D.D. 113 COUNSELS TO THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 115 NEARER TO THEE Miss Sarah F. Adams. 125 MY REST IS IN HEAVEN Anonymous. 127 THE CROWN OF MY HOPE William Cowper. 129 HOME IN VIEW Rev. John Newton. 131 EVENING TIME James Montgomery. 133 HUSBAND TO WIFE John M. Lowrie, D.D. 134 TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER William S. Plumer, D.D. 142 NOTHING BUT LEAVES Anonymous. 151 GOD, OUR HELP Isaac Watts, D.D. 153 I KNOW THAT I MUST DIE ' From the German of B. Schmolke. 155 AS CHRIST CHOOSES Richard Baxter. 157 THE BLESSED HOPE Rev. Augustus M. Toplady. 159 PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE John Gosman, D.D. 162 HEAVEN Anonymous. 166 LIGHT AT EVENTIDE Anonymous. 168 TRUST Martin F. Tupper. 170 CONTENTS. 5 PAGE ALL IS WELL Anonymous. 172 TO THE UTTERMOST Rev. Gardiner Spring Plumley. 174 A LITTLE WHILE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 181 PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 183 I SHALL SOON BE DYING Anonymous. 192 THE LOSS OP MEMORY Anonymous. 194 PRAYER OE AN AGED BELIEVER ^ Sir Robert Grant. 201 HEAVENLY REALITIES From the German op J. Lange. 203 SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE Rev. John Kennedy. 206 CHRISTIAN'S VIEW OF ETERNITY From German op C. C. Sturm. 215 DIM EVE DRAWS ON Anonymous. 217 THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE Anonymous. 218 JOYS TO COME From the German of H. C. Von Schweinitz. 229 THE PROMISED STRENGTH . Anonymous. 231 TARRY WITH ME Anonymous. 245 OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS Mrs. Adeline T. Davidson. 247 THE HOPE OF THE DISCONSOLATE Sir Robert Grant. 252 NEARER HOME Alice Cary. 254 BEYOND THE SUNSET Rev. Robert F. Sample. 256 THE UNCHANGING FRIEND Anonymous. 258 THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS Paul Gephardt. 273 THE FRIEND UNSEEN.. Charlotte Elliot. 276 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE James W. Alexander, D.D. 278 SOJOURNING AS AT AN INN A. D. F. Randolph. 285 TO AN OLD DISCIPLE William S. Plumer, D.D. 288 ONLY WAITING Anonymous. 302 FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS James Montgomery. 304 6 CONTENTS. PAGE WORDS IN SEASON Anonymous. 306 THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE From the German. 327 THE VERGE OE LIFE Philip Doddridge, D.D. 330 YONDER Horatius Bonar, D.D. 332 TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL Anonymous. 334 OLD AGE John Walton. 350 FULLY RIPE Anonymous. 351 THE HOUR OF DEPARTURE Rev. John Logan. 353 HOW TO DIE SAFELY Archibald Alexander, D.D. 355 OUR BELOVED HAVE DEPARTED From the German op J. Lange. 364 CONFIDENCE IN GOD Paul Gerhardt. 366 THE BANKS OF THE RIVER Anonymous. 369 HEAVENWARD From the German op B. Schmolke. 387 WHEN WILT THOU DIE? Anonymous. 389 THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH Rev. William Romaine. 392 A LITTLE WAY Miss Josephine Pollard. 405 SUPPORT IN DEATH From the German of N. Hermann. 407 THE HEAVENLY REST Anonymous. 409 AGED BELIEVER AT THE GATE OF HEAVEN....Thos. Guthrie, D.D. 425 A BETTER COUNTRY Rev. John Newton. 427 GRANDMA IS DEAD A. D. F. Randolph. 428 LONGING AFTER HEAVEN De Fleury. 432 CROSSING THE RIVER Rev. Robert F. Sample. 434 HEAVEN Horatius Bonar, D.D. 437 HERE AND THERE Anonymous. 439 THAT LAND From the German of Uhland. 441 PRAYER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD...A. Alexander, D.D. 443 CONTENTS. 7 PAGE GOD OF MY YOUTH Isaac Watts, D.D. 450 I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY William A. Muhlenberg, D.D. 452 THE LORD'S MY SHEPHERD , Rouse. 454 THE PILGRIM'S SONG Anonymous. 455 WORN AND WEARY S. Roberts. 457 AS THY DAYS Ltdia H. Sigourney. 459 THE HEAVENLY REST William B. Tappan. 460 THY WILL BE DONE Charlotte Elliot. 461 OUR HOME Anonymous. 463; PEEFACE. In this day, when so much labour is expended in producing almost innumerable books for the young, there is danger of our neglecting the generation who are about to pass off the stage of life. Yet there is a host of men and women in the decline of life who will be glad to receive a few words of instruction, of sympathy and of kindly cheer. For such this book has been prepared. May Grod bless it and make it a blessing to all such readers ! It will be seen that the materials for the volume have been gathered from a great variety of sources. Special acknowledgment is due to a volume entitled "Life's Evening Hour," published by the Religious Tract Society of London, from which several of the excellent anonymous pieces have been taken. W. E. S. Nearing Home. |jf mtlir g0u bt ftamtg Sgam ? * CAROLINE, BARONESS OF NAIRN. Would you be young again ? So would not I ; — One tear to memory given, Onward I'll hie ; — Life's dark wave forded o'er, All but at rest on shore, Say, would you plunge once more, With home so nigh ? If you might, would you now Retrace your way ? Wander through stormy wilds, Faint and astray ? Night's gloomy watches fled, Morning all beaming red, Hope's smiles around us shed, Heavenward, away! * Written in the author's seventy-sixth year. 11 12 NEABING HOME. Where are those dear ones, Our joy and delight, Dear and more dear, though now Hidden from sight ? Where they rejoice to be, There is the home for me ; Fly, time, fly speedily ; Come, light and life ! [ibleto of 1 tfje* ANONYMOUS. The busy day of life is over. Its pleasures, its duties, and its anxieties have passed away. The sunshine and the shade, which alternately marked its path, have alike disappeared ; and the soft tints of evening are gathered over the sky. The evening of life ! Yes : life has its sunset hour, its twilight season. The dim eye, the silvered lock, and the feeble step indicate that the closing period of earthly existence has arrived. How rapid has been the flight of time ! How near must be the approach of eternity ! The gradual decline of health and strength is a kind and merciful preparative for the solemn change which awaits us. It seems to lessen the reluctance which our nature feels to give up life ; to wean us from the varied attractions of earth ; to soften the abrupt transition from the present to a future state of being. It accustoms us to the consideration of death : it assists us in the realization of immortality. The evening of life ! Evening is the time for rest. 13 14 NEABINQ HOMK The little bird seeks its leafy roost ; the rosy child throws aside its playthings and falls asleep; the weary labourer comes home from his work. The cares of the day are forgotten ; and all is hushed and quiet. And life's closing hours, Christian reader, should be distinguished by serenity and repose. You must not harass and perplex yourself now with occupations which were once both appropriate and necessary, nor repine because you are unable to exert yourself as in former days. Your strength is to sit still. Old age is the resting-place in the journey of life ; and the feverish heat of noontide is exchanged for the refreshing coolness of twilight. An impatient, restless, grasping, or dissatisfied spirit is not consistent with the character of an aged pilgrim. Habitual quietude and self-possession should mark his demeanour. Neither the excite- ments of the world, nor the agitations of the pro- fessing church, should ruffle your equanimity; for you are too experienced a traveller in this vale of tears to be discomposed by the distractions around you, or to doubt the wisdom and faithfulness of Him who makes all things work together for good. Your rest in Christ, your trust in him as your Saviour, should be more perfect, more unwavering than in earlier years. "I know whom I have be- THE BEVIEW OF LIFE. 15 lieved, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day,"* should be the assured expression of your con- fidence in him. Firmly placed on the Rock of ages, and fully conscious of the security of your position, your closing life should be a realization of that promise in which Grod has engaged to keep in " per- fect peace" those whose minds are stayed on him.f The cheerful, all-sustaining faith of an aged Chris- tian is one of the best testimonies to the worth and reality of religion, and furnishes a bright and en- couraging example to the lambs of the flock. Weary and distressed by the arduous conflict in which he is engaged, the youthful Christian is frequently too ready to conclude with the desponding patriarch, "All these things are against me;" J or to exclaim with the sorrowful Psalmist, "I shall perish one day."§ At such seasons in his experience his faith is strengthened and his hope is revived as he be- holds the tranquillity and peace of some advanced believer, who has safely passed through similar trials and successfully surmounted similar tempta- tions to his own, and who is now enjoying a foretaste of that rest which remaineth to the people of Grod. * 2 Tim. i. 12. t Isa. xxvi. 3. % Gen. xlii.36. § 1 Sam. xxvii. 1. 16 NEABINO HOME. Such repose is to him a pledge of his own partial deliverance from toil and conflict ; and the contem- plation of it enables him to gird up the loins of his mind, and to run with patience the race set before him. Then let those around you, Christian reader, see that your hope is like an anchor sure and steadfast ; that you are now confidently resting upon those principles which have hitherto sustained and guided you. Let no doubt shadow your peace ; no anxiety ruffle your composure. You have struggled long with trial and temptation ; you have tested in your own experience the truth of God's promises; you have done his work among your fellow-men; and now you must calmly wait until your Father's loving voice bids you welcome home. The evening of life ! Evening is the time for re- flection. Amidst the busy and exciting occupations of the day there is seldom much opportunity for serious consideration. Well- disciplined minds, it is true, can control their thoughts, and gather them around high and holy subjects, even in those mo- ments which are necessarily devoted to worldly busi- ness ; but most persons are so harassed and engrossed by the constant claims upon their time and attention as scarcely to be able to cast a hurried glance on THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 17 things which are unseen and remote ; and they feel how welcome and how desirable is the evening hour for quiet meditation, for self-examination, and for the formation of wise and good purposes. Now, reader, your eventide of life should be con- secrated to calm and elevated thought. Through the long period which is passed you have not per- haps redeemed much time for hallowed considera- tion. Martha-like, you may have been cumbered with much serving; or, Israel-like, you may have forgotten the Lord your God. But whatever ha& been your previous history, you are now, by the infirmities of age, withdrawn from active duties, that you may muse upon coming realities. How thankful should you feel that there is yet a brief space allotted you for pious thought and preparation, before you go hence and be no more seen ! In the peaceful twilight hour, when we sit alone and commune with our own hearts, our thoughts- naturally turn to the occurrences of the past day.. Little incidents, too trifling perhaps to speak about, are reviewed and dwelt upon ; virtuous actions which have been performed win the approval of conscience,. and wanderings from duty call forth feelings of regret ; pleasing events and painful trials have each a share in our pensive musings ; varied indeed are 18 NEARING HOME. the scenes which one day's panorama brings before our view. And then we generally glance at the future. We arrange our plans for the coming day ; we look forward with glad expectance to the joys which are in store for us ; or we shrink in fear and despondency from the troubles which seem associated with the morrow ; and will not your thoughts, aged reader, thus chiefly divide themselves into retrospec- tion and anticipation ? Retrospection! "Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy Grod led thee these forty years in the wilderness."* Old age is the most appropriate season for this consideration of the past. The judg- ment is not so likely to be warped by the heat of excitement, nor the feelings to be swayed by the influence of passion, as in youthful days. The veteran, as he recalls the battle-field, can mark events and form opinions far more advantageously than the soldier who is engaged in the midst of an action. Contemplate, then, your whole life from the dawn of infancy to its present decline; trace out the many windings of your pathway through the world; survey each minute feature of your changeful history. But is it pleasant to look back? Are there not * Deut. viii. 2. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 19 many places in our pilgrimage where memory dis- likes to linger? are there not many facts in life's early records which we feel happier in forgetting? True, the remembrance of our imperfections and our sins is painful and self- condemning ; yet it is always best to open one's eyes to the truth. Enter, then, into a full and faithful examination of your past history. Scrutinize your motives by the tests with which God's word furnishes you ; and try your con- duct by his holy law. Let neither pride nor preju- dice hide the real state of things from your view. How important is it that, on the confines of eternity, you should be kept from self-deception ! Ask God himself to be your teacher. Make this your prayer : " Search me, God, and know my heart : try me, and know my thoughts : and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way ever- lasting."* What, then, is the result of your investigation? What verdict does conscience, enlightened from above, give concerning the past ? It may be, nay, it must be, that you find enough in your recollections to overwhelm you with sorrow and confusion. So much selfishness and worldliness have mingled with your brightest deeds ; so much unfaithfulness has * Psa, cxxxix. 23. 20 NEABING HOME. been connected with your professed allegiance to Christ; so much impurity of heart and defilement of life are discovered by your rigid self-inspection, that you are ready to exclaim with the Psalmist, "Enter not into judgment with thy servant, Lord: for in thy sight shall no man living be justified."* Or perhaps your reflections on the past have con- vinced you that you have hitherto been living with- out God and without Christ in the world ; that you have been so absorbed with the trifles of earth as to have forgotten the attractions of heaven ; that, although a responsible being, and liable to be sum- moned at any moment to your final account, you have gone carelessly on in the ways of sin, and have disobeyed the commands of the Most High. The retrospect in either case is humbling. Yet it leads to hope, and peace, and salvation. Both to the troubled Christian and the penitent sinner the cheering annunciation of the gospel is, " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin."f "Be- lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. "J Then, "though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."§ " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I * Psa. cxliii. 2. t 1 John i. 7. t Acts xvi. 31. 3 Isa. i. 18. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 21 will give you rest."* Full and free forgiveness is offered to all who seek it at his cross. Cast yourself with all your sins, however great their number or aggravated their guilt, at the Saviour's feet, saying, "Lord, save me: I perish!" and his gracious re- sponse will be, " Thy sins are forgiven ; — go in peace, "f Let the sorrowful and self- abasing remembrance of your iniquity make Christ in your estimation increasingly precious. Your sin is the dark back- ground which throws his love and his atonement into strong relief. Without his sacrifice and intercession, how dark would be life's evening ! Not one star of hope would illumine the sky ; not one ray of glad- ness would beam on your spirit. But now the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ casts a lovely and softened radiance on all around you and before you. Oh, as you be- hold by faith the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world, as you thankfully recognize in him your gracious Mediator and ever-prevalent Intercessor, can you not exclaim with the aged and rejoicing Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- vant depart in peace : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ?"J * Matt xL 28. f Matt. viii. 25 ; Luke vii. 48-50. % Luke ii. 29. 22 NEABING HOME. But the consideration of the past should not only awaken penitence, it should excite gratitude. You have been wonderfully preserved from many dan- gers ; you have been safely guided through many difficulties ; you have been continually enriched with numberless blessings. Surely goodness and mercy have followed you all the days of your life. Recall some of the multiplied proofs which you have had of God's tender, parental care over you. It would be impossible to recount every instance of his good- ness towards you, for memory, always imperfect, is now sadly impaired; but "forget not all his benefits." Each comfort which you have enjoyed through life came from his beneficent hand; each impulse to good and each resistance to evil which you have felt was through the impartation of his grace. Can you not heartily acknowledge the truthfulness of that charge which the dying servant of the Lord pressed home upon the Israelites around him ? — " Ye know that not one thing hath failed of all the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you ; all are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath failed thereof."* Oh yes ! every aged believer will testify to the faithfulness of God in the fulfilment of his promises. You can look back to several points in * Joshua xxiii. 14. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 23 your history, where, but for the interposition of God's providence, or the aid of his Spirit, you must have been overwhelmed by temptation and sorrow. Many have been the occasions when you have had to set up your stone of remembrance, and to confess that hitherto the Lord hath helped you. Even as to your trials, you can see now, with regard to some of them at least, that they were "blessings in disguise;" and you are sure that they were all sent for some wise and loving purpose. With what grateful emo- tions, then, should your recollections of by-gone days be accompanied ! And should not gratitude for past mercies be com- bined with hope for future favours and deliverances ? " He thanked Grod, and took courage."* When you think of the increased weakness and perhaps suffer- ing which you have yet to bear ; of the inevitable separation between yourself and those whom you love which will soon take place; of the valley of the shadow of death through which you must pass, and of the solemn moment when your spirit shall depart from this world, — natural feeling shrinks from the scene before you. " Cast me not off in the time of old age," is the language of your heart; " forsake me not when my strength faileth."f Hearken to * Acts xxviii. 15. t Psa, lxxi. 9. 24 NEABING HOME. the immediate reply of the God of your salvation : " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."* " Fear thou not ; for I am with thee : be not dismayed ; for I am thy God : I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. "f Ah! you can read these assurances in the page, not of inspiration only, but of experience. You can infer with certainty, from God's conduct in past days, what its complexion will be in future moments. He is the same yester- day, to-day, and for ever; and therefore in the loving-kindness which he has hitherto manifested towards you, you have the surest pledge of the con- tinual exercise of his power and goodness. He hath delivered ; he doth deliver ; in whom you trust that he will yet deliver. " The God who hath fed you all your life long " is your God for ever and ever ; and he will be your guide even unto death. Anticipation! Looking back should be combined with looking forward. The weary pilgrim, who re- calls with mingled sorrow and gladness the events which have occurred during his journey, will also think of the rest and the welcome which wait for him in his happy home. The Christian traveller, as evening is closing in around him, and the objects * Heb. xiii. 5. t Isa. xli. 10. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 25 of earth are fading from his gaze, loves to let his imagination dwell upon the many mansions in his Father's house, where a place is being prepared for him. ' 'A little while, and every fear, That o'er the perfect day Flings shadows dark and drear, Shall fade like mist away ; The secret tear, the anxious sigh, Shall pass into a smile ; Time changes to eternity — We only wait a little while." The morning of joy is close at hand; the things which are not seen and eternal are every moment drawing nearer to you; the promised inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, and never-fading, will soon be actually yours. Meditate on the glory which shall presently be revealed. Consider how perfect in its nature, and how perpetual in its duration, is the happiness which God has provided for you in his everlasting kingdom. An eminent minister, who was spending an afternoon with some Christian friends, was observed to be unusually silent. On being aroused from his reverie by a question which was addressed to him, he said that he had been absorbed in the contemplation of eternal happiness. " Oh, my friends !" he exclaimed, with an energy 26 NEABING HOME. which arrested the attention of all present, "think what it is to be for ever with the Lord ; for ever, for ever, for ever!" But is the prospect of heaven thus attractive to you? Have you any true sympathy with its joys, any congeniality of spirit with its bright inhab- itants ? You of course hope, when you die, to go to heaven ; the most thoughtless and worldly-minded characters hope that, not because they aspire after more intimate communion with God and closer con- formity to his image, but because they associate the idea of happiness with heaven; and it is the in- stinctive desire of their nature to wish to be happy. But unless we are made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light, the enjoyments of heaven, were we allowed to be there, would be positively distaste- ful to us. The unjust and the unholy would be unjust and unholy still, and in a world of perfect truth and purity would find no source of satisfaction. A clergyman was conversing with an intelligent woman in his parish, who was ill and dying. After he had ceased talking to her, she said with an ex- pression of much distaste, " If heaven be such a place as you describe, I have no wish to go there." Such an avowal may seem unnatural, but it would be the confession of every un sanctified heart, if men THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 27 seriously considered the character of celestial happi- ness. The songs of the redeemed cannot change the heart, nor the glory of the heavenly city transform the spirit. What fellowship can light have with darkness ? Aged reader, rest not satisfied with anything short of a true preparation for everlasting bliss. It is easy to bear the name of Christian. But without " holi- ness" no man shall see the Lord* " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of Grod."f How shall you attain this preparation ? By sim- ple faith in Christ, by the grace of the Holy Spirit. External acts of devotion, alms-giving, self-denial, or large charitable bequests, cannot purchase your passport for heaven. The righteousness of God, which is unto all and upon all them that believe, and the sanctification of the heart which is effected by the power of the Holy Spirit, must be yours be- fore you can enter into everlasting glory. And they may be yours — yours now. Put your trust in that Saviour who has declared he will in no wise cast out those who come to him ; and seek for the gift of that Holy Spirit which is promised to all who earnestly and perseveringly ask for it; and you shall have everlasting life. * Heb. xii. 14. f John iii. 3. 28 BEARING HOME. But it is possible that some humble-minded and timid Christian hesitates, from a fear of being pre- sumptuous and self- deceived, to appropriate those joys which are at God's right hand. Gladly would you anticipate the moment of your departure hence, could you be sure that an abundant entrance would be ministered unto you into Christ's kingdom. But although you cling to the Saviour as your only hope of salvation, and are anxiously striving to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit, you cannot rise to that happy confidence which many Christians feel in the prospect of eternity. You cannot echo their peace- ful and unwavering declaration, " 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."* You are like the pilgrims on the Delectable Mountains, whose hands shook so that they could not look steadily through the perspective- glass at the gate of the celestial city. Yet, fear not ! it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom ; the promised possession is secured to you, although you are unable to realize your interest in it. It is both your privilege and your duty to seek earnestly the " assurance of hope;" * 2 Cor. v. 1. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 29 but remember, for your consolation and encourage- ment, that the weakest believer in Christ is as safe as the most rejoicing Christian. Keep your eye fixed upon your Saviour ; strive to follow in his steps ; use with constancy and diligence the means of grace which he has provided; and you shall eventually attain to that perfect peace which casteth out fear. "At evening time it shall be light."* Happy are those whose hope is clear, whose faith is strong, and who, in the consciousness that the time of their departure is at hand, can look to the past and to the future, and meekly but confidently affirm with " Paul the aged," " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness. "f Joyful assurance! Bright antici- pation ! Well may such aged believers have an ardent desire to depart, and to be with Christ ; well may they long for that rapidly approaching hour when he shall present them faultless before the presence of their Grod with exceeding joy. The evening of life! Evening is the time for prayer. Then the lisping babe folds its little hands and utters its simple words of supplication and thanksgiving ; then the pious family assemble round * Zech. xiv. 7. t 2 Tim, iv. 6. 30 NEARING HOME. the domestic altar; then the thoughtful Christian retires into his closet, shuts his door, and prays to his Father who seeth in secret. The comparative quietude which exists in the world around him, and the repose which spreads itself over the face of nature, seem to soothe the spirit of the wearied be- liever, and to invite him to calm and hallowed inter- course with his Maker. And should not life's evening thus tranquillize and elevate his feelings? Private prayer, the de- light and duty of all who have been taught of God, is an employment peculiarly appropriate to the aged Christian. Compelled to relinquish the active occu- pations of former days, unable to read much even of the best of books, and frequently deprived, per- haps, of the long- valued ministrations of the sanc- tuary, how thankfully does he retain the inestimable privilege of pouring out his heart in secret before God, and in holding sweet converse with his heavenly Father! "I can very seldom talk or read now," said a venerable servant of God, whose days were almost numbered; "but," he added, as a happy smile lighted up his withered features, " I can pray. In my weakest moments, without opening my lips, I can make known my requests unto God, and praise him for his never-changing goodness towards me." THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 31 Let the evening of your life be much devoted to prayer; for at the close, no less than at the com- mencement of your Christian experience, you are entirely dependent upon Almighty succour. Go therefore with boldness to the throne of grace, that you may still obtain mercy, and find grace to help you in every time of need.* Old age has its especial wants and trials ; but, "Ask, and it shall be given you,"f is the inscription which is ever written over the mercy-seat. Implore that strength which you require in order that you may cheerfully bear God's will now ; that support which you will need in the hour of death, when heart and flesh shall fail ; that consolation and guidance which you desire to have imparted to those whom you must leave behind in a world of grief and danger. He who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that you can ask or think, will hear and answer your feeble but heart- felt petitions. The evening of life ! Have these words a melan- choly sound ? They tell, it is true, that the bright sunshine of youth and manhood is past; that the health and the energy which impelled our steps in the path of usefulness and renown have departed ; that the night of death will soon gather round us, * Heb. iv. 16. t Matt. vii. 7. 32 HEARING HOME. when we must close our eves upon all that is loved and lovely here. But are these facts unwelcome to the Christian ? Nay, are they not rather the incentives of his hope and his joy? Long a stranger and a pilgrim upon earth, do they not assure him that he is now on the borders of that country which he has so earnestly been seeking ? The worldling may mourn over the flowers which have withered in his grasp, but the Christian has a treasure laid up in heaven, and his heart is there also. The orphan spirit may shrink from the prospect of an unknown eternity ; but the child of G-od cannot but rejoice in the thought of soon going home. The evening of life! Aged Christian, an ever- lasting morning will soon dawn upon your redeemed and perfected spirit. "Now is your salvation nearer than when you believed."* Mark with thankfulness the shadows of evening as they deepen around you, for they are the necessary precursors of the coming day. Calmly and trustingly as an infant that slum- bers on its mother's bosom, you will soon " sleep in Jesus," to awake in that purer and happier world, which has " no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God doth lighten it, * Rom. xiii. 11. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 33 and the Lamb is the light thereof."* " Absent from the body," you will at once be "present with the Lord;"f you will "behold his face in righteousness;" you will "be satisfied, when you awake, with his likeness."! * Rev. xxi. 23. f 2 Cor. v. 8. % Psa. xvii. 15. 5 \t fflir JMIts. ANONYMOUS. Ah ! don't be sorrowful, darling, And don't be sorrowful, pray ; Taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more night than day. 'Tis rainy weather, my darling, Time's waves, they heavily run ; But taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more cloud than sun. We are old folks, now, my darling, Our heads are growing gray ; But taking the year all round, my dear, You will always find a May. We have had our May, my darling, And our roses long ago ; And the time of the year is coming For the silent night of snow. 34 THE OLD FOLKS. 35 And G-od is God, my darling, Of night as well as day ; And we feel and know that we can go Wherever he leads the way. A Grod of the night, my darling, Of the night of death so grim; The gate that leads out of life, good wife, Is the gate that leads to Him. MARGARET JUNKIN. The calm, full day, so flushed with light, So draped in placid majesty, Has sunk beneath the mystic sea That shrouds the immortal from our sight. We revelled in its aflluent rays, We sunned us in its atmosphere ; We drank its beauty — breathed its cheer, And felt its bliss a thousand ways. What princely flowers filled its morn ! What rich results its noontide hours ! How nobly its unresting powers Have all the heat and burden borne ! 'Tis well that kindly night should come With precious silence and release : So in our souls we whisper " peace" At such a tranquil sinking home. 36 NIGHTFALL. 3T But while we miss the golden bars That bounded in this day so bright, We look aloft — and lo ! the night That closes round us throbs with stars ! ||a%r, m Ifturto. MISS A. L. WARING. Fathek, I know that all my life Is portioned out by thee, And the changes that will surely come I do not fear to see ; But I ask thee for a quiet mind, Intent on pleasing thee. I ask thee for a thankful love, Through constant watchings wise, To meet the glad with cheerful smile, And to wipe the weeping eyes ; And a heart at leisure from itself To soothe and sympathize. I would not have the restless will That wanders to and fro, Seeking for some great thing to do Or secret thing to know : I would be dealt with as a child, Led, guided where to go. 38 FATHER, I KNOW. 39 Wherever in the world I am, In whatsoe'er estate, I have a fellowship with other hearts To keep and cultivate ; And a work of holy love to do For the Lord on whom I wait. I ask thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life While keeping at thy side — Content to fill a little space, So thou be glorified ! And if some things I do not ask In my cup of blessing be, I would have my spirit filled the more With gratitude to thee. More careful than to serve thee much, To serve thee perfectly. There are thorns besetting every path, That call for patient care ; There is a crook in every lot, And a need for earnest prayer ; But a lowly heart that leans on thee Is happy everywhere. 40 NEARING HOME. In a service that thy love appoints There are no bonds for me ; For my secret heart is taught the truth That makes thy children free ; And a life of self-renouncing love Is a life of liberty. tor Wm life, HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 'Tis not for man to trifle ! life is brief; And sin is here. Our age is but the falling of a leaf, A dropping tear. We have no time to sport away the hours ; All must be earnest in a world like ours. Not many lives, but only one have we — One, only one : How sacred should that one life ever be — That narrow span ! Day after day filled up with blessed toil — Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil. Our being is no shadow of thin air — No vacant dream — No fable of the things that never were, But only seem ; "lis full of meaning as of mystery, Though strange and solemn may that meaning be. 6 41 42 NEABING HOME. Our sorrows are no phantom of the night — JSTo idle tale ; No cloud that floats along a sky of light, On summer gale ; They are the true realities of earth ; Friends and companions even from our birth. life below — how brief, and poor, and sad ! One heavy sigh. life above — how long, how fair, and glad ! An endless joy. Oh, to be done with daily dying here ! Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere ! day of time, how dark ! sky and earth, How dull your hue ! day of Christ, how bright ! sky and earth, Made fair and new ! Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green ; Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene ! Itixozyttt MARTIN F. TUPPER. How many years are fled ! How many friends are dead ! Alas ! how fast The past hath passed ! How speedily life hath sped ! Places that knew me of yore Know me for theirs no more ; And sore at the change, Quite strange I range Where I was at home before. Thoughts and things, each day, Seem to be fading away ; Yet this is, I wot, Their lot to be not Continuing in one stay. A mingled mesh it seems Of facts and fancy's gleams ; 43 44 NEABING HOME. I scarce have power, From hour to hour, To separate things from dreams. Darkly, as in a glass, Like a vain shadow they pass ; Their ways they wend And tend to an end — The goal of life, alas ! Alas ! and wherefore so ? Be glad for this passing show ; The world and its lust Back must to their dust, Before the soul can grow. Expand, my willing mind, Thy nobler life to find ; Thy childhood leave ; Nor grieve to bereave Thine age of toys behind. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. The autumn of our life has actually arrived. The scenes of our youth have fled for ever ; and the feel- ings and hopes of that period have passed away also, or are greatly changed. When we take a retrospect of the past, several weighty reflections cannot but press upon our minds and sadden our hearts. How true do we now find that trite remark, that the long- est life in the retrospect appears exceedingly short, though in prospect the same period appeared almost interminable ! Old age has come upon us (though its approaches were very gradual) by surprise ; and even now, except when feeling something of the in- firmities of age, or when viewing our altered image in the mirror, we are prone to forget that we are old ; and often are impelled to undertake labours to which our strength is no longer competent. Truly our life of three- score, or more, appears like a dream when we awake from sleep. And as the past years have passed *From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication. 45 46 NEABING HOME. so quickly, the few that remain will not be less rapid in their flight. Indeed, to the aged, except when they are suffering protracted pain, time appears shorter than it did when they were young. Thus at least it seems to the writer; the year, when its days and weeks and months are numbered, is as long as ever, but to our sense it seems to grow shorter. We are less absorbed and interested in passing scenes than the young. Life has with us become a sober reality. The enchanting visions of a youthful imagination have now entirely vanished. But it brings a solemn and tenderly melancholy feeling over the minds of the aged to inquire for the friends and companions of their youth. How few of these can we now find upon earth ! The ministers whose labours were made useful to us, and the very sound of whose voice was sweeter than the richest music, are now lying beneath the clods of the valley. The beloved friends with whom we were wont to take sweet counsel, and to whom we could confidingly open our whole hearts, have been torn from our side. Many dear relatives, loved it may be as our own life, have slept the sleep of death. Time may have healed the painful wounds made by such bereavements, but their loss often leaves a chasm which can never be supplied, and, at any rate, a scar which we shall carry to the grave. There is one re- REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 47 flection connected with this subject still more sad ; it is, that some in whom we once delighted, and in whom we reposed strong confidence, have turned aside from the ways of truth and righteousness in which they appeared to be walking, and, though they may be still walking up and down upon the earth, are dead to us and to all those interests which once seemed to be common to them and us. And as to those who re- main steadfast, and have continued their pilgrimage without turning aside into crooked ways, what a sad change has time made upon their persons ! Where is the bloom of youth, the robust strength of man- hood, the eye sparkling with intelligence, and the countenance beaming with animation ? Alas ! they are fled ; and in their place we see the decrepid body, the sunken eye, the withered countenance, and the tottering gait. All are not equally changed by the ravages of time. Indeed, to some the access of gray hairs and old age brings an addition of comeliness. There is something peculiarly lovely, as well as vene- rable, in the silvery locks and placid countenance of a good old man. There is in his countenance a chas- tened expression of benignity and sobriety which long experience alone can produce. But the bitterest of all reflections to the aged is that of sins committed, duties omitted, time wasted, and 48 NEABING HOME. opportunities of doing good neglected. Reflections of this kind, at certain times, become insufferably pain- ful. And although we could not wish to go a second time through such a pilgrimage, yet we cannot but wish often that with our present views, and with the aids of experience, we could enjoy again the oppor- tunities of usefulness which were suffered to pass without improvement. But even in these painful re- grets and this bitter repentance our deceitful hearts often impose upon us, and we give ourselves more credit for present good feelings than we deserve. For let us only ask ourselves, whether we now avail our- selves of all the advantages of our situation to do good. Are we not now guilty of as gross neglects as when younger ? The probability is, therefore — yea, the cer- tainty — that if left to ourselves as much as we were, we should do no better if we were permitted to live over our unprofitable lives a second time. But while we should lay aside all fruitless wishes, we ought certainly to reflect upon our sins and short- comings, until our godly sorrow is so enkindled within us as to work a repentance not to be repented of. We cannot atone for our sins by tears of peni- tence; for this we must have recourse to another fountain, even the blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all unrighteousness ; but the flow of ingenuous, REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 49 godly sorrow has a tendency to soften and purify the heart, and our iniquities are rendered by this means odious ; so that while we are penetrated with un- feigned gratitude to Grod for pardoning mercy, we are rendered more watchful against our besetting sins, and made to walk more tenderly and circum- spectly, and more humbly too ; for I have thought, that the reason why a covenant-keeping God some- times permits his children to fall into shameful acts of transgression is because nothing else but such a sight of themselves as these falls exhibit would suf- ficiently humble their proud hearts. The recollection of such sins serves all their life long to convince them that they ought to place themselves among the "chief of sinners" and "the least of saints." And this view of our exceeding depravity of heart serves- to show us the faithfulness and loving-kindness of Grod in the strongest light. According to that which he speaks in Ezek. xvi. 62, 63, "And I will estab- lish my covenant with thee ; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord; that thou mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the Lord God." My aged friends, permit me to counsel you not to 7 50 NEARING HOME. give way to despondency and unprofitable repining at the course of past events. Trust in the Lord, and encourage your hearts to hope in his mercy and faith- fulness. Your afflictions may have been many and sore, and your present circumstances may be embar- rassing, and your prospects for the future gloomy. Providence may seem to have set you up as a mark for the arrows of adversity. Stroke upon stroke has been experienced. Billow after billow has gone over you, and almost overwhelmed you. Truly the time has come when you can say, "My joys are gone." But though friends have been snatched from you or have proved unfaithful ; though children, once your hope and joy, are numbered with the dead, or what is far worse, profligate or ungrateful; though your property has wasted away, or your riches suddenly taken wings and flown like the eagle to heaven; though bodily diseases and pain distress you, — still trust in the divine promise, " I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Though friends die, God for ever liveth. Though your earthly comforts and supports are gone, you are heir to an inheritance " incorrupt- ible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Take for your example the prophet Habakkuk, who triumphantly declares, "Although the iig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 51 labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." Learn to live by faith : no class of peo- ple need the supports of faith and hope more than the aged. And not only believe, but act. " Work while it is called to-day." "To do good, and com- municate, forget not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." Your work is never ended while you are in the body. It is a sad mistake for aged persons to relinquish their usual pursuits and resign every- thing into the hands of their children. Many have dated their distressing melancholy from such a false step. The mind long accustomed to activity is mis- erable in a state of stagnation ; or rather, having lost its usual nutriment, it turns and preys upon itself. Lighten your burdens, but do not give up business, or study, or whatever you have been accustomed to pursue. Imbecility and dotage are also prevented, or postponed, or mitigated, by constant exercise of the mind. Keep also as much of your property, if you have any, in your own hand as is necessary for your own support, and make not yourselves dependent on the most affectionate and obedient children. They will 52 NEABING HOME. be more affectionate and more respectful when you are not dependent. Dismiss corroding cares and anxieties about what you shall do to get a living. How strange it is that the nearer men come to the end of their journey, the greater concern they feel as to the means of future subsistence ! God's hand will provide. His command to us is, " Be careful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanks- giving let your requests be made known unto God." ' 'And the peace of God, which passeth all under- standing, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." iljristiau %mtt% for t\t %$$** ANONYMOUS. Be patient — life is very brief, It passes quickly by ; And if it proves a troubled scene Beneath a stormy sky, It is but like the shaded night That brings a morn of radiance bright. Be hopeful — cheerful faith will bring A living joy to thee, And make thy life a hymn of praise, From doubt and murmur free ; Whilst like a sunbeam thou wilt bless, And bring to others happiness ! Be earnest — an immortal soul Should be a worker true ; Employ thy talents for thy Grod, And ever keep in view The judgment scene, the last great day, When heaven and earth will pass away. 53 54 NEAEING HOME. Be holy — let not sin's dark stain Thy spirit's whiteness dim — Keep close to Jesus 'mid the world, And trust alone in him ; So, midst thy business and thy rest, Thou shalt be comforted and blest. Be prayerful — ask, and thou shalt have Strength equal to thy day ; Prayer clasps the Hand that guides the world Oh, make it then thy stay ! Ask largely, and thy God will be A kindly Giver unto thee ! Be ready — many fall around, Our loved ones disappear ; We know not when our call may come, Nor should we wait in fear ; If ready \ we can calmly rest ; Living or dying, we are blest. ||riirg*s. A. D. F. RANDOLPH. A bridge within my heart, Known as the " Bridge of Sighs," That stretches from life's sunny part To where its darkness lies. And when upon this bridge I stand, To watch the tides below, How spread the shadows on the land ! How dark the waters grow ! Then as they wind their way along To sorrow's bitter sea, How mournful is the spirit-song That upward floats to me, — A song that breathes of blessings dead, Of joys no longer known, And pleasures gone ; — their distant tread Now to an echo grown. 55 56 NEABING HOME. And hearing thus, beleaguering fears Soon shut the present out ; The good but in the past appears, The future full of doubt. Oh, often then doth deeper grow The night that round me lies ; I would that life had run its flow, Or never found its rise. II. A Bridge within my heart, Known as the Bridge of Faith ; It spans by a mysterious art The streams of life and death. And when upon this bridge I stand, To watch the tides below, How glorious looks the sunny land ! How clear the waters flow ! Then as they wind their way along, And to a distant sea, I listen to the angel- song That sweetly floats to me, — BRIDGES. 5T A song of blessings never sere, Of love beyond compare ; And life so vexed and troublous here, So calm and perfect there. And hearing thus, a peace divine Soon shuts each sorrow out, And all is hopeful and benign Where all was fear and doubt. Oh, ever then will brighter grow The light that round me lies ; I see from life's beclouded flow A crystal stream arise ! mu SOile. GREVILLE. A little while, and every fear That o'er the perfect day Flings shadows dark and drear, Shall pass like mist away ; The secret tear, the anxious sigh, Shall pass into a smile ; Time changes to eternity, — We only wait a little while. A little while, and every charm That steals away the heart, And earthly joys that warm And lure us from our part, Shall cease our heavenly views to dim ; The world shall not beguile Our ever-faithful thoughts from Him Who bade us wait a little while. A little while, and all around, The earth, and sea, and sky, 58 A LITTLE WHILE. 59 The sunny light and sound Of nature's minstrelsy, Shall be as they had never been, And we, so weak and vile, Be creatures of a brighter scene, — We only wait a little while. He ifrttitltss mtt. JOHN M. LOWRIE, D. D. " Nothing but leaves ;" so the Saviour said, And then he blasted the fruitless tree ; And I ponder his curse with trembling dread, Lest just such a word he might speak of me : I have known his name from my early youth, And my outward homage his cause receives ; Yet his judgment upon my life in truth Might render the verdict, " Nothing but leaves." " Nothing but leaves," though the ground was choice; In the Lord's own garden the tree was set ; And loving parents by life and voice Gave cheerful care to nurture it ; yet, Though of rapid growth and comely form, No answering fruit their toil retrieves ; The blossoms fell off in the first spring storm, And autumn found on it " nothing but leaves." " Nothing but leaves ;" yet the church of God Wide open her doors every Sabbath threw ; 60 THE FRUITLESS TREE. 61 And faithful preachers proclaimed aloud His fearful wrath and his mercy too ; And the showers of grace, as dew, came down, And the Spirit called who never deceives ; How many the blessings my life has known ! And still my returns are " nothing but leaves." " Xothing but leaves ;" yet I might have won More hearts than my own to taste his grace ; But the world's gay rounds my feet have run, Ever prone to the broad and downward ways ; Had I entered with zeal his harvest field, And now filled my arms with gathered sheaves, What happy reflections my life would yield ! How fearful the contrast, " Xothing but leaves!" " Xothing but leaves ;" though it has been so, Yet a remnant still of life remains ; Great Grod, thy renewing mercy show — I plead by the dying Saviour's pains ! May my zeal be warm, may my life be new, While every power of heart believes, And holy influences ever show, That I give no longer " nothing but leaves." Mttnotm. MARGARET JUNKIN. You say the years have sadder grown Beneath their weight of care and duty, That all the festive grace has flown, That wreathed and crowned their earlier beauty. You tell me Hope no more can daze Your vision with her bland delusions, Nor Fancy, versed in subtle ways, Seduce you to her gay ponclusions. The rapturous throb, the bound, the flush, That made all life one strong sensation, Grow quiet now, beneath the hush Of time's profounder revelation. You have it still — the inviolate past, So pure, so free from gloss and glitter : The wine runs limpid to the last — JSTo dregs to dash its beads with bitter. 62 AFTERNOON. 63 Vixi : — thus looking back you write ; The best that life can give, you've tasted ; And drop by drop, translucent, bright, You've sipped and drained — not one is wasted. 'Tis not in retrospect your eye Alone sees pathways pranked with flowers ; You knew the while the hours flew by, They were supremely blissful hours. The sun slopes slowly westering still, Behind you now your shadow lengthens; And in the vale beneath the hill The evening's growing purple strengthens. The morning mists that swam your eye Made large and luminous life's ideal : JNTow, cut against your clearer sky, You comprehend the true — the real. Time still has joys that do not pall, Love still has hours serene and tender : 'Tis afternoon, dear, — that is all ! And this is afternoon's calm splendour. God grant your cloudless orb may run Long, golden cycles ere we sever ; Or, like the Northern midnight sun, Circle with light my heart for ever ! fllir Jyjt Jlntxdpaieir.* REV. REUBEN SMITH. You are now descending into the valley of declin- ing years. That valley, we are persuaded, need not be dark if you but carry into it the lamp of true wisdom. To meet it aright requires reflection and experience. There is what may properly be called, perhaps, the art of growing old. But where shall it be found ? or what are those precepts and appropriate considerations and practices by which we may sus- tain and comfort ourselves when found falling " into the sear and yellow leaf" of our earthly existence? To answer these questions is the design of the pres- ent undertaking. Cicero, the heathen philosopher, has written some- thing on this subject ; nor do we think that his beau- tiful thoughts, so far as they go, are to be despised or wholly neglected. According to him, the different sources of molestation in old age are these four : 1. Our necessary withdrawing from the more active * Tract No. 138, Presbyterian Board of Publication. fi4 OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 65 pursuits of life. But lie tells us there are other em- ployments more appropriate to this condition ; and these are specified and recommended. Then comes, 2. The loss of our voluptuary enjoyments ; but these were never worthy of man, and their loss cannot be an annoyance when they are no more desired. 3. The failure of our mental faculties comes next, but this is not necessarily or universally true. Even memory need not essentially fail in old age, when it is culti- vated ; and he adduces many examples to show that it may still be strong. 4. But the most formidable of all the evils of old age is, in that it compels us to contemplate a near approaching death; and it is in- structive to observe here by what an unsatisfying- train of thoughts heathen philosophy attempts to meet this want. The argument of the aged Cato is essentially this: that death is not an evil to be dreaded, because it either ends our being, and then it is nothing ; or there is an immortality, and then it leads to eternal felicity. There is, he thinks, no third estate. For himself, he is inclined to believe in im- mortality, and then he solaces himself with the thought that he shall meet there the spirits of the illustrious and beloved dead, who, like him, will have escaped from this perturbed and transitory life ! " illustrious day!" he exclaims, "when this shall once be!" 66 NEARING HOME. Now, we are free to admit that all this, or most of it, is true and very interesting, with one exception. There are thoughts and precepts here not unworthy of a reflecting old age. But we are sure you feel their defectiveness. The last argument, in particular, is not only defective, but in part false. There is a third estate. Yes, we may live beyond time and not be happy. And then the kind of solace he seeks there is inferior, and ought not to be confined to the few things here specified. We need on every ac- count a larger and securer instruction. In nothing, perhaps, does the superiority of the blessed gospel above the teachings of heathenism more strikingly appear than in what it teaches of future happiness and the true secret of a tranquil old age. The gospel brings life and immortality to light; the gospel does not vainly deny that old age is an evil in itself, but it admits its trials, and then provides appropriate alleviations. I. Would we learn to bear the ills of old age so as to be happy under them ? therefore, let us learn, first of all, to expect it, and submit to it when it comes as a providential event. We should learn, says the pro- verb, to be seasonably old, that we may be long old. By this it is not meant that we should antedate old age, or be too often dwelling upon it in our minds. OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 67 But since we know it must come, and has its annoy- ances, and that all this is the order of Providence, it is best to admit the truth freely, and make the best provision for it that we can. The man who denies his age, or attempts to conceal its approach from him- self, acts unworthily both of his nature and condition. The consistent man rather faces his trials, anticipates them, and submits to them as they arise, because they are from G-od. And when he can say with John the Baptist, " He must increase, but I must decrease" and yet rejoice in the providence, the half of his difficulties are thereby removed. II. Here also we may properly look at and estimate the amount of these trials as they are usually seen to occur. Some trials of age are inevitable, and others may come whence they ought not. We shall undoubt- edly find some of our faculties and some of our enjoy- ments decreasing in that state. We may find ourselves pushed out of our places by those who are coming after us, and not always without a rough or thoughtless touch. The young do not in all cases honour gray hairs as they should. Some instances of vain and fanciful self-conceit will undoubtedly annoy us. The changes and wastings of things must constantly meet us — the thoughtlessness of the age aggravated to us by the too ready forgetting of what has gone before — 68 NEABING HOME. jealousy of improvements because they are new, and grief for the loss of other things because they are old ; — all these are to be met perhaps in our own case, to- gether with poverty, darkness and neglect ; and then the inevitable necessity of being swept away at last by a " rude stream that must for ever hide us," — this is more or less to be expected, and it is no wonder if the anticipations of such things do at times shake our faith and gather clouds over our future experience. III. And yet it is comfortable to be able to believe that the anticipations of abandonment and extreme trials in old age are not often realized. On the contrary, except where vicious habits or peculiar circumstances have rendered escape impossible, the wants of age are remarkably provided for, and most persons are com- paratively happy in that condition. They have many sources of enjoyment (as we shall soon see), and they have learned better to appreciate them. They have surmounted their annoyances, and their estate is gen- erally tranquil, sometimes truly enviable. Their old age is peaceful, resigned, cheerful and deeply re- spected. "The apex of old age," says Cicero, "is authority ;" by which we suppose to be meant that respect and influence to which a virtuous old man usually attains. For the attainment of this state, however, means are undoubtedly to be used. The art OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 69 is to be learned and practised. We proceed to say, therefore, IV. That an important means of rendering old age happy is to have a sufficiency of appropriate employment. Agriculture and gardening are particularly to be recommended. Let the old men plant trees, though they may never expect to eat the fruit of them ; let them cultivate a cheerful intercourse with children — let them bring forward and encourage all virtuous and enlightened progress — let them sympathize with, and, as far as possible, relieve the afflicted — let them sedulously cherish the confidence of the young and seek to do them good — let them furnish the world with the results of experience and observation — trans- mit facts and recollections — set a goodly example of patience, prayer and steadfastness, in attachment to all good institutions ; and if they have the proper furniture for it let them become authors. Old age, other things being suitable, seems the very time for authorship. We are told that Plato wrote at eighty- one years of age, and Isocrates at ninety-four. We might even recommend the study of languages, since every new language or science is an enlargement of mind, and a most absorbing employment. Cato is said to have learned Grreek in his old age, and Socrates to play on musical instruments. 70 WEARING HOME. V. Again : we should cultivate most carefully those faculties which are most usually impaired in old age. Memory is one of these. The memory soonest fails undoubtedly ; but it need not be altogether so ; nor do we see why we should not remember all we desire to remember, as well in old age as at any other period. The reason why we do not probably is, that to many things we attach less importance than we did in earlier life. Seldom does any man forget his legal titles to property; the Christian never forgets the name of his Saviour. We should occupy our memo- ries, therefore, with things most worthy to be remem- bered ; and then much may be done by practising them. Sloth and neglect will ruin any faculty. " If the instrument be blunt, then must he put to the more strength. " VI. On the same principle, it is important to keep alive our hope and ambition in old age. The affections of the mind can in many things control bodily in- firmities, and among these affections there are none stronger than those of hope and ambition. " An old man can do something," says one ; " I will show it," cries another ; and " I shall succeed," says a third. And now by believing, feeling, and trying, success and great usefulness are finally attained; while on the other hand many no doubt have sunk prematurely, OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 71 through mere discouragement or retiring too early from the activities of life. Cases are occurring to show that health and physical strength may be greatly extended by determined and appropriate efforts, and why should it not be so with mental activities ? Let us never give up hope. VII. Let us learn to avoid and resist as far as possible those tilings which may be called the besetting infirmities of this condition. These are jealousy of neglect, an undue valuation of old things, peevishness, neglect of personal appearance, moroseness, or discontent with our whole condition. These are natural tenden- cies undoubtedly, and great annoyances where they exist ; but much may be done by foreseeing and avoid- ing them. It was Dean Swift who wrote his resolu- tions as to what he would not do in old age. But the better recommendation is prayer, watchfulness, and a constant exercise of patience. VIII. Another rule is, to think as little as possible of our losses in old age, and more of the blessings which still remain. No doubt natural differences of dispo- sition will have influence here, and some cases are so providentially afflictive that human efforts can do little to modify them. But in general we believe that cheerfulness and entire contentment may be se- cured in the way now suggested ; and we have wit- 72 NEARING HOME. nessed some cases of this that were truly edifying. " See," said an old lady of eighty- six to her pastor, "how well I can read without spectacles /" "Yes," said he, " and you have all these other comforts. Here are your convenient accommodations, your dutiful children, and, above all, your Bible with all its pre- cious promises." " I know it, I know it," said she, with rising animation ; "I am only afraid that I am not thankful enough." Now that individual would have been cheerful in almost any condition. The happiness we recommend is not of indifference, how- ever — not of a mere animal, but of a rational being, and therefore it is reflective. IX. We must not omit now those more direct exer- cises of prayer, and faith, and Christian meditation so necessary and so becoming the condition we are con- templating. The aged should have opportunities for these. They should have retirement and freedom from noise; and it is one of the greatest cruelties practised upon them that these opportunities are sometimes denied. But what more pleasant, what more appropriate and profitable, when they are en- joyed, than to "Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Of that vast ocean we must sail so soon ;" to spend much of our time in reading, meditation OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 73 and prayer; to withdraw our affections more and more from the world, like old Barzillai ; to reflect much on (rod's dealings with us, like David in the 71st Psalm, and to seek the welfare of Zion, and all around us, as we find ourselves descending to the tomb ! "The land of silence and of death awaits my next remove : Oh may these poor remains of breath teach the wide world thy love." X. But we come to the closing scene. "We must all come there at last ; and now the great question is — the only question worthy of much solicitude — how shall we best be prepared to meet anticipated death? Not, we answer, by the cold despisings of philoso- phy — not by mere natural resolution or vain speculation, as if death must either be nothing, or necessarily lead to eternal felicity. For, alas, we may live after death in a very different state! And no mere natural resources seem sufficient to face with calmness a responsibility like this. Nor yet is it a sufficient solace, in view of death, that we may say, We shall meet beyond death those with whom we held intercourse here on earth. No, we feel, we know that we want all this, and more. Now, the true Christian, and he alone, has this re- source. To him the blessed gospel "has brought life and immortality to light." He believes this. 10 74 NEABING HOME. He has long obeyed the gospel, and tasted some of its blessed consolations ; and now, in his old age, he lies down to die with infinitely more and better enjoyments than the wisest of heathens ever knew. He has all that Cicero wrote so pleasingly of; and then he goes much further. He knows he must die; he sees death near; and yet he does not shudder. He has heard his divine Redeemer say, "I am the resurrection and the life," and he responds, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." He is conscious, never more so than now, of his great sins and great de- ficiencies of obedience; but he knows also that he has a great and mighty Saviour, and "that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He expects a glorious resurrection also ; and then as to the felici- ties that await him beyond the grave, he does not confine them to mere social intercourse, such as he possessed on earth, but expects these infinitely im- proved ; and then the superadded and almost incon- ceivable fruition of a present Grod, an openly-beheld Saviour, and the society of all holy and elevated beings — angels and men — in one unwearying activity around the throne of God for ever. Illustrious day indeed, when all this is to be entered upon and en- joyed! As to leaving the world, he does not regret it, for he has enjoyed what of good it could ever OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 75 afford, and finished his usefulness in it. Dear ob- jects of his affection are there still, but he leaves his blessing with them, and hopes besides to meet them all again " at the great rising day." And thus he dies, easily, tranquilly, and with glorious hopes. " Sure the last end of the good man is peace. Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground ; Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft." Surbhtj -ffhtimtss, REV. SAMUEL MEDLEY. Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, And sing thy great Redeemer's praise ; He justly claims a song from thee ; His loving-kindness, oh, how free ! He saw me ruined in the fall, Yet loved me notwithstanding all ; He saved me from my lost estate, His loving-kindness, oh, how great ! Though num'rous hosts of mighty foes, Though earth and hell my way oppose, He safely leads my soul along, His loving-kindness, oh, how strong ! When trouble, like a gloomy cloud, Has gathered thick, and thundered loud, He near my soul has always stood, His loving-kindness, oh, how good ! 76 LOVING-KINDNESS. 77 Often I feel my sinful heart Prone from my Saviour to depart ; But, though I oft have him forgot, His loving-kindness changes not. Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale, Soon all my mortal powers must fail ; Oh, may my last expiring breath His loving-kindness sing in death. tto mtsxt ftags. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. A few more years shall roll, A few more seasons come, And we shall be with those that rest Asleep within the tomb. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that great day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away ! A few more suns shall set O'er these dark hills of time, And we shall be where suns are not — A far serener clime. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away ! A few more storms shall beat On this wild, rocky shore, 78 A FEW MORE DAYS. 79 And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that calm day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away. A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away. REV. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE. Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide, The darkness thickens ; Lord, with me abide : When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away : Change and decay in all around I see ; thou, who changest not, abide with me. Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord — Familiar, condescending, patient, free ; Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me. Thou on my head in early youth did'st smile, And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, Thou hast not left me, oft as I left thee ; On to the close, Lord, abide with me. 80 ABIDE WITH ME. 81 I need thy presence every passing hour ; What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power ? Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be ? Through cloud and sunshine, oh abide with me. I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless ; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : Where is death's sting ? where, grave, thy victory ? I triumph still if thou abide with me. 11 §;0ir is mg ffigfyt. * HENGSTENBERG. God is my Light! — Never, my soul, despair In hours of thy distress ! The sun withdraws, and earth is dark and drear ; My light will never cease, days of joy with splendour beaming ! Through nights of grief, its rays are gleaming ; God is my Light ! God is my Trust ! — My soul, be not afraid ! Thy Helper will abide : " I'll not forsake thee !" — he has kindly said, — He's ever at thy side ; In feeble age will yet stand by thee, JSTo real good will he deny thee ; — God is my Trust ! His is the power ! — He speaks, and it is done ; Commands, it standeth fast ; * Translated by Dr. Mills. GOD IS MY LIGHT. 83 Ere hope of rescue is in me begun, Behold, the work is past ! When we our weakness most are feeling, God loves to prove, his strength revealing, His is the power. God is my shield ! — Of me he takes the care As none beside could do ; He guards my head, — he watches every hair, All dangers brings me through ; While thousands, to vain helpers calling, On right and left are near me falling, — He is my Shield ! God's my reward ! — Well pleased I onward go The path that he has shown : It has no trials but my God will know, When he awards my crown. I'll gladly strive, the fight sustaining, Until in death the victory gaining, — God's my Reward ! REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. " Call to remembrance the former days." — Heb. x. 32. I've travelled a long and weary way, Through many a valley dim ; I have wept in the morning gray, And sobbed my evening hymn ; But 'tis the way that leads me home, No more to weep, no more to roam; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." Sore conflicts oft with sin I've known, And tempest-tossed have been ; My heart was rent with many a groan; Alas, the power of sin ! But strength was given and armour bright; I walked by faith, and not by sight ; 84 THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT. 85 And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." The light of cherished hopes went out, And dark'ning storms came on ; In forests cold I roamed about, And refuge there was none ; But Jesus came to my relief, He hushed the wailings of my grief ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." Soon on my home dark shadows fell, My dearly-loved was dead ! Then sadly tolled the funeral bell, And blinding tears were shed ; But in the gloom arose a light, As Jesus passed within my sight ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 86 NEABING HOME. But mercies too have crowned my years, And many days were bright ; The lamps of heaven dispelled my fears, And bathed my path with light ; 'Twas sweet to lean on Jesus' arm, To feel secure from real harm ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, « 'Tis I ; be not afraid." Jgmpa% attir §*lffeljtwss. ANONYMOUS. Each season of life has its own peculiar tendencies and temptations. But selfishness is at all times and under all circumstances the common sin which doth so easily beset us. In early youth we are prone to imagine that everybody and everything about us ought in some way to minister to our gratification, and we therefore strive to employ them in the furtherance of the plans which we have arranged for our own happiness. In old age, when the infirmities of life compel us to withdraw from its activities and its pleasures, we are in danger of supposing that since we can derive but little enjoyment now from those sources which once yielded to us a rich supply, it is a matter of little importance to us whether others find any satisfaction in them or not. It often hap- pens that old age narrows the channel of our benevo- lence and our sympathy; we have less to receive, and we think we cannot have so much to give. Our thoughts, allowed to take their natural course, be- come concentrated on "self;" all that personally con- 87 88 NEABING HOME. cerns us is so magnified as very much to hide from our view the interests of our neighbours ; we look so steadily and so exclusively on our own good that we almost lose sight of the good of others. JNTow, will you guard against the influence of these selfish feelings? Will you bear in mind how op- posed, how thoroughly opposed, are selfishness and Christianity? Will you reflect upon the injury which you may do to religion by allowing an undue regard for self to be manifested in the little occur- rences of your everyday life ? A young man, who was urged by a pious friend to devote himself to the service of Grod, made this reply : " It is of no use to talk to me in this way ; I have seen too much of re- ligious people to desire to be like them. They pre- tend to be a great deal better than everybody else, but they are just the same underneath. Why, there's my uncle S , an old man with one foot already in the grave ; he calls himself a Christian, and yet he is as covetous and as selfish as possible. See him at home ; Ids comfort, his ease, his wishes, must be first consulted ; everybody must give way to him ; and he is constantly taking offence because he thinks he has not sufficient attention and respect paid to him. What's the use of religion ? it is all show — mere show." SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 89 Tt was not difficult to answer such an objection as this, but it was difficult to remove the prejudice and the misconception which had gathered around that young man's mind. The selfish behaviour of his aged relative, in conjunction with that of others, had so set him against religion that he would not listen to its claims ; and, although moral and amiable in his conduct, he still remains estranged from God and from his people. It is true that the faults and in- consistencies of professed Christians will furnish no valid excuse for his refusal to love and serve his Grod and Saviour ; but ought they not to excite the deepest grief and shame in those who have thus thrown additional stumbling-blocks in the way of a sinner's return ? Ought we not earnestly to watch and pray that we do not bring reproach upon that holy name by which we are called, through our self-love and self-indulgence ? It is not so much by flagrant de- partures from the ways of godliness that we exert a baneful influence over the undecided and the uncon- verted, as by our apparently careless disregard of whatsoever things are lovely and of good report. The warm and generous-hearted spirit of youth will shrink with distaste, if not with disgust, from a religion which our actions have led him to ally with meanness and selfishness. Our prayers, our zeal, 12 90 NEABING HOME. our alms-giving, our profession, will have but little weight with him if they are associated day after day with the unhallowed and unamiable endeavour to secure our personal ease, in preference to the comfort of others; — he will regard them but as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And will he not rightly regard them? "Though I have all faith and know- ledge; though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor; and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love — that love which seeketh not her own; which vaunteth not itself, but which suffereth long and is kind — it profiteth me nothing."* Let not, then, the infirmities of age be a plea for your lessened sympathy with others. Should the graces of the Christian decline with his fading strength? should the shadow of the tomb dim the light of his heaven-born love? Surely the nearer that he approaches to the pure and peaceful fellow- ship of the saints above, the more should his spirit be conformed to theirs. And is theirs a spirit of selfishness ? Are they absorbed in their own inter- ests, their own occupations, their own joys ? are they indifferent to the feelings and the pleasures of their bright companions? No; they joyfully and fully sympathize with each other ; self is forgotten there ; * 1 Cor. xiii. SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 91 and if we hope, through a Saviour's merits, to reach the home where they dwell, let us endeavour to cherish corresponding emotions to theirs. Let us strive to follow them as they, when on earth, followed Christ. Ah, let us rather look at once at Jesus, our perfect model, our brightest example ; let us ask to have the mind that was in him, and to be imbued with his Spirit. For then we cannot live day after day — as some who profess and call themselves Chris- tians do live — cold and careless about the welfare of others, and at the same time intensely solicitous to promote our own. " Ye have not so learned Christ ; if so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus."* His doc- trine which we have received into our hearts, and his example which we have chosen as the guide of our conduct, lead us to deny ourselves that we may benefit others, and to take the liveliest interest in all that relates to their happiness. And we are not to retrace our steps as years in- crease. We are not to be peevish, discontented, or unreasonable because we are old or getting old. This is certainly not our creed, and, God helping us, it shall never be our practice. As we advance in life we should be more considerate, more kind, more * Eph. iv. 20, 21. 92 NEABING HOME. like Christ, not less so ; and if we abide in him, and his words abide in us, there can be no doubt that we shall thus grow in grace. The stream of Christian affection will become deeper, not shallower ; the flame of unselfish love will burn more brightly, instead of almost going out. Oh how delightful is the sight of an aged be- liever richly imbued with the loving and unselfish spirit of his Master ! How refreshing is it in this dreary world to rest a while beneath some venerable palm tree, which spreads out its cooling branches as if the only object of its existence were to bless the passer-by! How cheering is it, amidst the selfish and dissatisfied throng around us, to meet with those who can smile through their own tears upon the happy and the gifted ! An aged servant of the Lord had survived all her near relatives ; the last beloved object of her tender affections, of her constant recollection, was laid in the grave. Her life had been the scene of many sorrows, and there was but little sunshine to cheer the evening of her life. One day, as, lonely and blind, she sat by the fireside in her little parlour, a friend who called to see her found her — doing what? Murmuring over her desolate condition, and com- plaining that she was uncared-for and forgotten? SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 93 No, but rejoicing in the happiness of others. A family whom she had known and loved in early life was to be gladdened on that day by the return of a long- absent member; and, through its dull and silent hours, her lips were often unclosed to express her delight at the thoughts of their meeting, her prayers that they might be blessed. " Were this my case," thought the listener, " I should have been repining that others had the comfort of tender relatives and loving friends, while I was left alone in the world, looking for none whose approach could console and gladden my solitary existence." The latter feeling is the emotion of the natural heart — the former of the Christian spirit. Reader, which would have been yours ? ANONYMOUS. " I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil." — John xvii. 15. Pilgkim in the path of life, Fainting in the daily strife, Wishing, longing to be free From thy load of misery, Panting for the heavenly home, Where no blighting sorrows come : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. Mourner, bending o'er the dead, From whose cheek the bloom has fled, Grazing in the glassy eye, Vainly asking for reply, Wishing that thy days were done, And thou with thy beloved one : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. 04 THE SAVIOURS PRAYER. 95 Aged wanderer, sad and lone, All thy youth's companions gone, Like blasted trunk, round which the vine Shall never more its tendrils twine, Like stranger on a foreign coast Weeping o'er his treasures lost : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. ' ,l Not that thou should'st take away These thy creatures of a day, Pray I, Father, but that in Thy mercy thou would'st save from sin ; Keep them from the evil one, Till their course of life is run." This thy Saviour prayed for thee ; Patient wait till thou art free. \t Jtgtir U\ti%imvL. ANONYMOUS. The spring and summer time of life have long since pass'd away, And golden autumn, with its leaves of sadness and decay, Has come and gone ; and winter shrouds each lovely scene in gloom, And bids me mark across my path the shadows of the tomb. Mine eye is growing dim with age, my step is feeble now, And deeper lines of thought and care are graven on my brow ; But shall I murmur as I trace the rapid flight of hours, Or grasp with trembling eagerness earth's fair yet fading flowers ? Oh no ! a bright and happy home awaiteth me above, And my ardent spirit longs to dwell where all is joy and love. THE AGED CHRISTIAN. 97 Does the wave-tossed mariner regret when he sees the haven near Where his shattered bark shall safely rest, nor storm nor danger fear ? Will the toil-worn labourer sigh because his weary task must close, And evening's peaceful shades afford him calm and sweet repose ? Or does the child with sorrow mark each swift re- volving mile Which bears him to his cherished home and loving father's smile ? And shall the Christian grieve because some gentle signs are given That he is nearer to the bliss, the perfect bliss of heaven ? That every moment closer brings that mansion fair and bright, Prepared for him with tender love in realms of pure delight? Oh ! with such brilliant hopes as these how can my heart repine, Although I feel my vigour fade, my wonted strength decline ? 13 98 NEABING HOME. Rather with gladness would I hail these messages of love, Which tell me I shall quickly join the white-robed throng above. My pilgrimage will soon be o'er, my arduous race be run, And the bright crown of victory triumphant faith have won ; No sorrow clouds the land of rest, hush'd is the thought of pain : Oh ! if for me to live is Christ, to die indeed is gain ! ||e ^oict from ^alilcc. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. Of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace." — John i. 16* I heard the voice of Jesus say, Come unto me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon my breast. I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in him a resting-place, And he has made me glad. I heard the voice of Jesus say, Behold, I freely give The living water, — thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live. I came to Jesus and I drank Of that life-giving stream ; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in him. 99 100 NEABING HOME. I heard the voice of Jesus say, I am this dark world's light, Look unto me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright. I looked to Jesus and I found In him my star, my sun ; And in that light of life I'll walk Till travelling days are done. FROM THE GERMAN OF CLAUS HARMS. Know ye the land — on earth 'twere vainly sought — To which the heart in sorrows turns its thought ? Where no complaint is heard, — tears never flow, — The good are blest, — the weak with vigour glow ? Know ye it well ? For this, for this, All earthly wish or care, my friends, dismiss ! Know ye the way — the rugged path of thorns ? His lagging progress there the traveller mourns ; He faints, he sinks, — from dust he cries to G-od — • " Relieve me, Father, from the weary road I" Know ye it well ? It guides, it guides To that dear land where all we hope abides. Know ye that Friend ? — In him a man you see ; — Yet more than man, more than all men, is he : * Translated by Dr. Mills. 101 102 NEARING HOME. Himself before us trod the path of thorns ; To pilgrims now his heart with pity turns. Know ye him well ? His hand, his hand Will safely bring us to that Father-land. JAMES HAMILTON, D. D. "The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree." — Psa. xcii. 12. The Palm brings forth its best fruit in old age. The best dates are said to be gathered when it has reached a hundred years. So it is with eminent Christians : the older the better ; the older the more beautiful ; nay, the older the more useful ; and, differ- ent from worldlings, the older the happier. The best Christians are those who improve to the end, who grow in grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ to the very close of life. They loved him at first, but now they love him more. At first they were selfish, and only sought to escape from wrath ; now they are jealous of the Saviour's honour, and long to be saved from sin. At first they only thought of the Priest ; now they perceive the Priest upon a throne, and love not only the Saviour's cross, but the Saviour's yoke and the Saviour's laws. One Jesus is their King. And they grow in knowledge of themselves. The truth to 103 104 NEABING HOME. which they once assented becomes a deep- wrought experience. " In ine, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." And the discovery of this de- pravity, the knowledge how debased and worthless their nature has become, instead of making them morose and bitter towards their fellow-sharers in the fall, makes them lenient and considerate. They know themselves too well to expect perfection in their friends, and find brethren to whom they can stick close in the face of obvious failings ; and even when they hear of awful wickedness, indignation is chastened by shame and self-consciousness. It is something of the old Reformer's feeling when he saw the malefactor led to prison : — " There, but for the grace of Grod, goes John Bradford." And they grow in wisdom. Long experience, and still more the secret of the Lord, dispassionate observation and heavenly-mindedness, have given them sagacity ; and sometimes in homely adages, sometimes in direct and sober counsel, they deal forth that mellow wis- dom. And they grow in spirituality. We have seen those aged pilgrims to whom earthly things at last grew insipid ; they had no curiosity for the news of the day, and little taste for fresh and entertaining books. They stuck to God's testimonies, and you never went in to see them but the ample Bible lay THE PALM. 105 open on the table or the counterpane ; and they could tell the portion which had been that morning's food or the meditation of the previous night. The word of God dwelt in them so richly that you could see they were becoming fit to dwell with God ; for when a mind has become thoroughly scriptural it wants but another step to make it celestial. And the last harvest came, and the last gleanings of their precious words, and when next we went that way their place knew them no longer. They were flourishing in the courts of God's house on high, and we should sit under their shadow and be regaled by their goodness no more. But when we recollected how fair their Christian profession was, how beneficent and service- able they had ever been, and remembered that their last days were their brightest, and their last fruits their fairest, we said over to ourselves, " The right- eous shall flourish like the palm tree. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing ; to show that the Lord is upright ; he is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him." Dear Christian reader, when your own ear cannot hear it, may this be your eulogy : when your own eye cannot read it, may this be your epitaph. In the 14 106 NEABING HOME. meanwhile, for the sake of that Saviour who is dis- honoured by proud and selfish and unlovely disci- ples, do you strive and pray for consistency. And for your own soul's sake, which is dulled by defective views, and depressed by each besetting sin, do you seek a serene and lofty faith — do you covet earnestly a blameless conversation. Let your triumphs over self, and your high-hearted zeal for the Saviour, let the largeness of your spirit and your heavenly ele- vation, let the exuberance of your goodness and the multitude of its special acts, let the fulness of your affections and the freshness of your feelings, and the abundance of your beneficence, make the Christian manifest and unmistakable. Let your happy piety be the far-eyed signal announcing an oasis in the desert, and pray that your church or congregation may become to weary pilgrims another Elim, where when they came they found "twelve wells of water, and threescore and ten palm trees." JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D. Psalm xliii. 4. Early my spirit turned From earthly things away, And agonized and yearned For the eternal clay ; Dimly I saw when but a boy, God, my exceeding joy. In days of fiercer flame, When passion urged me on, 'Twas only bliss in name — The pleasure soon was gone. Compared with thee how all things cloy, Grod, my exceeding joy ! At length the moment came — Jesus made known his love ; High shot the kindling flame To glories all above, 107 108 NEAEING HOME. Now all the powers one theme employ- God, my exceeding joy. Shadows came on apace ; Tears were a pensive shower ; I cried for timely grace To save me from the hour ; Thou gavest peace, without alloy ; God, my exceeding joy. One trial yet awaits, Gigantic at the close ; All that my spirit hates May then my peace oppose ; But God shall this last foe destroy, — God, my exceeding joy. Ittmt in fyt fbtttir. HANNAH F. GOULD. Alone I walked the ocean strand, A pearly shell was in my hand ; I stooped, and wrote upon the sand My name — the year — the clay ; As onward from the spot I passed, One lingering look behind I cast — A wave came rolling high and fast, And washed my lines away. And so, methought, 'twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me ; A wave of dark oblivion's sea Will sweep across the place Where I have trod the sandy shore Of time, and been, to be no more ; Of me, my frame, the name I bore, To leave no track nor trace. And yet, with him who counts the sands, And holds the waters in his hands, 109 110 NEABING HOME. I know a lasting record stands Inscribed against my name, Of all this mortal part has wrought, Of all this thinking soul has thought, And from these fleeting moments caught For glory or for shame ! |till toill toe |ntsi WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary, And the heart faint beneath his chastening rod ; Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary, Still will we trust in Grod ! Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed, And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain ; Through Him alone who hath our way appointed We find our peace again. Choose for us, Grod ! — nor let our weak preferring Cheat our poor souls of good thou hast designed ; Choose for us, God ! — thy wisdom is unerring, And we are fools and blind. So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows, And day pour gladness through his golden gates ; Our rough path leads to flower-enamelled meadows, Where joy our coming waits. 111 112 NEABING HOME. Let us press on in patient self-denial, Accept the hardship, shrinking not from loss- Our guerdon lies beyond the hour of trial ; Our crown heyond the cross. inrspsri 0f %£%bm. ISAAC WATTS, D. D. There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite clay excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flow'rs ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Caanan stood, While Jordan rolled between. But timorous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea ; And linger, shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away. 15 113 114 NEABING HOME. Oh could we make our doubts remove — Those gloomy doubts that rise — And see the Caanan that we love With unbeclouded eyes ; Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. As an aged man, I would say to my fellow-pilgrims who are also in this advanced stage of the journey of life, endeavour to be USEFUL as long as you are continued upon earth. We are, it is true, subject to many peculiar infirmities, both of body and mind, to bear up under which requires much exertion, and no small share of divine assistance ; but still we have some advantages not possessed by the young. We have received important lessons from experience, which, if they have been rightly improved, are of inestimable value. The book of divine providence, which is in a great measure sealed to them, has been unfolded to us. We can look back and contemplate all the way along which the Lord has led us. We can now see the wise design of our Father in many events which, at the time, were dark and mysterious. The knowledge to be derived from studying the book of God's providence cannot be communicated to *Froin " Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, 115 116 NEABING HOME. another ; the lessons are like the name upon the white stone, which none can read but he that has it. The successive events of our lives we can make known, but the connection which these events have with our character, our sins, and our prayers can be fully understood only by ourselves. He who neglects to study the pages of this book deprives himself of one most important means of improvement; yet many professors of religion appear to pay little or no atten- tion to the providence of God in relation to them- selves. If they meet with some severe judgment or some great deliverance, their attention is arrested, and they acknowledge the hand of Grod in the dispen- sation ; but as to the succession of ordinary events, they seem to have no practical belief that they are ordered by divine providence, or have any important relation to their duty or interest. I would affection- ately entreat my aged brethren to make the dealings of Glod's providence towards themselves a subject of careful study. There is within our reach, except in the Bible, no source of instruction more important. And to aid you in this business permit me to recom- mend to your careful perusal two little volumes on Providence, which I have found useful and comfort- able to myself. The first is Flavel's "Mystery of Providence Opened;" and the other is Boston's COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 117 "Crook in the Lot," These excellent treatises may be read over and over again with profit. Perhaps the best method of studying such books is, not to read the whole at once, or in a short time, but to peruse a few paragraphs at a time, and then reflect upon the subject, and make application of what we read to our own case. And while I am recommending works on this subject I ought not to omit mentioning Char- nock's treatise on " Providence." I confess I am not so familiar with this as the treatises before mentioned, but I have found his other writings, especially those on the Divine Attributes, so surpassing in excellence that I feel willing to recommend any thing which ever proceeded from his pen. I began this letter with an exhortation to endeav- our to be useful while you live. To comply with this you should, in the first place, guard vigilantly against those faults and foibles into which old people are apt to fall. We must be careful not to mistake moroseness for seriousness, austerity for gravity, or discontent with our condition for deadness to the world. Why should the aged be more peevish and morose than others ? If they are pious, there can be no good reason for it ; but it is not difficult to account for the fact. In the decline of life a gradual change takes 118 NEABING HOME. place in our physical system by which the mind is considerably affected ; and often positive disease is added to this natural change. The nervous system is debilitated and shattered ; and in consequence the spirits are apt to sink or to become irregular. To these may be added the afflictions and disappoint- ments which most experience in the course of a long- life, by which the temper is apt to be soured. And when men, by reason of the decay of mind and body, become disqualified for the same active services which they were long accustomed to perform, and these fall into the hands of juniors, whom they knew when children, it is very natural to feel as if the world was turning round — as if every thing was going wrong. Old men have always been wont to laud the times, long past, when they were young, and to censure all the innovations which have come in since. Some- times, also, the aged experience a neglect from the young, and even a want of respect from their own children, which is exceedingly mortifying, and tends much to foster that acerbity of temper so frequently found in the aged. But although these and other similar things may be truly pleaded in extenuation of the fault under consideration, yet they do by no means amount to an apology which exculpates us from blame. And COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 119 that old age is not necessarily accompanied by these unamiable traits of character is proved by many happy examples. Some aged persons exhibit an uniform cheerfulness and serenity of mind ; and the remarkable fact has been recorded in regard to a few that a naturally irritable temper has been softened and mellowed, instead of being exacerbated by old age. If I recollect rightly, this is mentioned as true in relation to the Rev. Dr. Rodgers of New York by his biographer, my respected colleague, the Rev. Dr. Miller. The late venerable Dr. Livingston, of the Dutch Reformed Church, President of their College and Seminary, was distinguished by uniform cheer- fulness to a very advanced age ; and his cordial and affectionate manners were remarked and felt by all who approached him. The Rev. John Newton, of London, seems to have possessed, with large mea- sures of divine grace, a very happy physical tem- perament. It is delightful to contemplate the old age of such a man. And while I am mentioning recorded examples of a temper in old age deserving of imitation, I would recall to the remembrance of my readers the case of the Rev. Dr. Thomas Scott, who, at a period of life when most men relinquish all severe labour, actually undertook to learn the Arabic language, that he might be able to give 120 NEABING HOME. instruction to the missionaries going to the East. It has often been noticed that piety is apt to decline with the decline of manly vigour. If this be really a common event, it is exceedingly to be deplored. But perhaps it is more in appearance than reality. It requires much stronger faith and feelings of warmer piety to enable an old man to go forward in his course with zeal and alacrity than for a young man, who is buoyed up and borne along by the vigour of youthful passions, to do the same. But I rejoice to know that piety does not always even appear to grow cold by the descent into the vale of years. In some Christians it evidently goes on advancing ; and their growth in grace is much more rapid in this period of life than any other. As they approach nearer to heaven, their hearts and their conversation are more in heaven. Oh that it might be thus with us all ! As these letters are intended also for my aged friends of the female sex, I would recommend to their notice and imitation the old age of Mrs. Han- nah More. From her first appearance as a Christian she seems to have gone on advancing in evangelical knowledge and ardent piety until she was com- pletely superannuated. And even then she lost no- thing of the respect and affection which by her pious and benevolent labours she had gained; for still, COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 121 when her memory was so impaired that she did not remember the books she had written, the elevation of her piety and the enlargement of her benevolence remained unimpaired. And it is truly a delightful thought that when in the wreck of mind the whole cargo of knowledge seems to be lost, and parents no longer recognize their own children, religion, where it was possessed, still remains. Jesus Cheist is nevee foegotten. Pious sentiments are never ob- literated. Cicero in his beautiful little treatise on Old Age, in which many judicious and pleasing sen- timents are expressed, when speaking of the decay of the memory, says that he never heard of a miser forgetting the place where he had buried his treasure. What the mind prizes most is longest retained in memory. It is often remarked, and justly, " How beautiful does unaffected piety appear in youth !" But it may as truly be said, " How amiable and vene- rable is exalted piety in old age !" It has been said that avarice is peculiarly the sin of age ; we often hear of an old, but scarcely ever of a young, miser. This may be true in regard to those who have cherished the love of the world all their lives. They will hug their treasures with a closer grasp, and their affections will be more concentrated on them when other objects are removed ; but this 16 122 NEABING HOME. vice does not originate in old age ; it is only the ma- ture fruit of the seed planted in early life; and though it becomes deeply radicated in old age, it is not now so much the desire of acquiring wealth as of holding- fast what they have got. The folly of the miser who hoards his money without a thought of using it is easily shown, and has often been ridiculed. But the truth is, that all ardent pursuit of worldly objects beyond what is necessary for the real wants of nature might be demonstrated to be equally absurd. But whatever men of the world may do, let not Christians dishonour their holy profession by an inordinate love of the world. Especially, let not the aged professor bring into doubt the sincerity of his religion by manifesting a covetous disposition. " Take heed," said the Great Teacher, "and beware of covetousness ; for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Many begin the world with little, and the claims of an increasing family render it necessary to exercise much diligence and economy to make a living ; but thus it often happens that an avaricious disposition under the semblance of necessity, and even of duty, strikes its roots deep into the soul ere the man is aware of any danger. Indeed, it is almost impossible to convince a man of the sin of covetousness while he avoids open acts of COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 123 injustice or fraud. Dear friends, it is time for many of you to give up the further pursuit of wealth, un- less your object is to acquire the means of doing good. But beware of the deceitfulness of the heart. Covet - ousness will allow you to promise such an appropriation of your gains. But put yourselves to the test by a sim- ple experiment. Ask yourselves whether you are now willing to make that use of the property which Grod has given you that his honour and the advancement of Christ's kingdom require. If you indeed find in yourself that disposition to consecrate all that you have to the glory of God, then it may be lawful to go on to acquire further means of usefulness. But whatever you now possess, or may hereafter acquire, of this world's goods, for your soul's sake set not your affections on these perishable things. Be not proud of your wealth. Neglect not while you live to do good and communicate. Remember that you are but the steward of the wealth which you possess, and therefore it is required of you to be faithful in the distribution of what is put into your hands. If you have tried the plan of parsimony lest you should lessen your estate, now try the plan of wise liberality, and see whether that saying of Christ is not verified by experience, that "It is more blessed to give than to receive." 124 NEABING HOME. Whether in the former periods of our lives we have had prosperity or have passed through the deep waters of affliction, it is nearly certain that in our old age we shall feel the strokes of adversity. If our friends have been preserved in life thus far, yet we know they must all die. If hitherto we have enjoyed uninterrupted health, yet now we must expect to en- counter pain and disease. Old age itself may be called the common disease of our nature, which can only be escaped by death. Mr. Newton, in one of his last letters, says that he had but one disease, but that was incurable, which was old age. Then, my dear friends, let us set an example of patience and cheerful resignation under the afflictions which may be laid upon us. The passive virtues are more diffi- cult to be exercised than the active, and God is per- haps more honoured by quiet submission to his will under sufferings than by the greatest achievements of zeal and exertion. But let us never forget that we have not the least strength in ourselves. We are dependent on the grace of God for every good thought and desire. But if we trust in him we shall never be ashamed. Imvtt to %htt. MISS SARAH F. ADAMS. "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, God. "My soul thirsteth for G-od, for the living G-od : \rhen shall I come and appear before G-od?" — Psa. xlii. 1, 2. " Nearer, my Grod, to thee — Nearer to thee !" E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me ; Still all my song shall be, " Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee !" Though like a wanderer,* The sun go down — Darkness comes over me, My rest a stone ; Yet, in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my Grod, to thee — Nearer to thee ! * See G-en. xxviii. 10-22. 125 126 NEARING HOME. There let my way appear Steps unto heaven ; All that thou sendest me In mercy given Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee ! Then, with my waking thoughts Bright with thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise ; So by my woes to be Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee ! And when on joyful wing, Cleaving the sky, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Upward I fly, Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee !" gig tyt&t is in mtnbtn. ANONYMOUS. " Here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." — Heb, xiii. 14. My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here ; Then why should I tremble when trials are near? Be hushed, my sad spirit; the worst that can come But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home. It is not for me to be seeking my bliss And building my hopes in a region like this ; I look for a city which hands have not piled — I pant for a country by sin undefiled. The thorn and the thistle around me may grow — I would not lie down e'en on roses below ; I ask not my portion, I seek not a rest, Till I find them for ever on Jesus' loved breast. Let trial and danger my progress oppose, They only make heaven more sweet at the close ; Come joy, or come sorrow, whate'er may befall ; A home with my God will make up for it all. 127 128 NE AILING HOME. With a scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, I march on in haste through an enemy's land ; The road may be rough, but it cannot be long, So I'll smooth it with hope and cheer it with song. felje jfWton of mj moyt. WILLIAM COWPER. My Saviour, whom absent I love y Whom, not having seen, I adore r Whose name is exalted above All glory, dominion, and pow'r, — Dissolve thou those bands that detain My soul from her portion in thee ;; Ah ! strike off this adamant chain,. And make me eternally free. When that happy era begins, When clothed in thy glories I shine,. Nor grieve any more by my sins The bosom on which I recline, Oh then shall the veil be removed,, And round me thy brightness be poured ; I'll meet him, whom absent I loved — I'll see, whom unseen I adored. And then nevermore shall the fears, The trials, temptations and woes, 17 129 130 HEARING HOME. Which darken this valley of tears, Intrude on my blissful repose ; To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone ; Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to his throne. \omt in llteto, REV. JOHN NEWTON. As when some weary trav'ller gains The height of some o'erlooking hill, His heart revives, if cross the plains He eyes his home, though distant still. While he surveys the much-lov'd spot, He slights the space that lies between ; His past fatigues are now forgot, Because his journey's end is seen. Thus when the Christian pilgrim views, By faith, his mansion in the skies, The sight his fainting strength renews And wings his speed to reach the prize. The thought of home his spirit cheers, No more he grieves for troubles past ; Nor any future trial fears, So he may safe arrive at last, 131 132 NEARINO HOME. 'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell With Jesus, in the realms of day; Then I shall bid my cares farewell, And he will wipe my tears away. Jesus, on thee our hope depends, To lead us on to thine abode : Assur'd our home will make amends For all our toil while on the road. JAMES MONTGOMERY. Zechariah xiv. 7. At evening time let there be light : — Life's little day draws near its close ; Around me fall the shades of night, The night of death, the grave's repose; To crown my joys, to end my woes, At evening time let there be light. At evening time let there be light : — Stormy and dark hath been my day ; Yet rose the morn benignly bright, Dews, birds and flowers cheer'd all the way ; Oh for one sweet, one parting ray! At evening time let there be light. At evening time there shall be light : — For God hath said, "So let it be !" Fear, doubt, and anguish take their flight ; His glory now is risen on me ; Mine eyes shall his salvation see ; 'Tis evening time, and there is light. 133 glttslmttir to Wife, ON ATTAINING A HALF CENTURY. JOHN M. LOWRIE, D. D, I remember, you remember, the days when first we met : Those cheerful, pleasant hours of youth we never can forget ; And this our happiness was then, our happiness is now, — No purer source of joy and peace is given man to know, — That far above all earthly thoughts we had a common Friend, A glorious Friend, around whose throne the hosts of heaven bend, Yet dwells on earth the meek to bless, the humble to renew ; We knew each other better then, because we knew him too. 134 HUSBAND TO WIFE. 135 I remember, you remember, how then we loved to trace, With thankful hearts, yet now as then, the leadings of his grace; For what were we that wrath should stay our guilty souls to spare ? Or why should we in grace so rich obtain the mean- est share ? And now, we trust with firmer faith, we bow around his seat, As then to seek his guardian hand to guide our erring feet ; For still, as then, we walk by faith, observing his command, And fall or falter save as he still holds us by the hand. I remember, you remember, in days of gloom and grief, We've shared their pains when we could find in him alone relief; We knew they came at his command, we learned to bless him still, To bow before his sovereign hand, submissive to his will: And this upheld us many times when flesh and heart grew faint; — The cross and Calvary are still the strength of every saint — 136 NEABING HOME. That he was called this path to tread, this bitter cup to drink ; Should we not taste the griefs from which our Saviour did not shrink ? I remember, you remember, how little then we thought Of anxious cares, dejecting fears, these later years have brought ; Though we had heard the world was cold — and thought we knew it too — Yet sad experience impressed the lessons all anew ; But when our busy memory would the varied past recall, With few regrets our thankful hearts would now re- view them all ; For ours has been a happy life, for every toil repaid, " An hundred fold e'en in this life" — the Master's lips have said. And we have learned, have fully learned, that all the toil and strife Of these our changing years were but the discipline of life; When friends that promised fair have changed to coldness and neglect, When flaming pious zeal has cooled and lost our warm respect, HUSBAND TO WIFE. 137 When hopes of good in youthful hearts have van- ished as the dew — Such disappointments, ever met, yet still seemed ever new — When death removed our best-tried friends to dwell before his face, While we, alas ! were left to mourn with none to fill their place : Then have we learned, full well have learned — not only on one leaf, But written clear on every page in plain and bold relief — That though our souls have often felt discouraged by the way, When rolling seas have tossed, or naught but deserts round us lay, That still was ours a chosen way — the pathway of our Grod — That wisdom chose out every grief, and mercy every rod; And not one day, to cheer us still, did manna fail to fall ; And every hour of day and night the cloud was over all! 18 138 NEARING HOME. And we have learned, have partly learned, too much like them of old ! Forgive, Lord, our unbelief and murmurings un- told! The lessons which thy holy law from Sinai's summit gave, And later lessons of thy word of him who came to save; And not in vain — our life-long joy — and when our life is o'er, Our nobler song with nobler tongues through ages evermore ; The song of all the Church of God when gathered round his throne, Redeemed from sin, redeemed by blood of the Incar- nate Son. So have we learned, have humbly learned, whatever be our lot, That though deep darkness shrouds his ways, we comprehend them not, 'Tis ours to walk as duty bids, to find each daily care, A joy which we may win, or else a cross that we must bear; HUSBAND TO WIFE. 139 In either case his love may make the small or great impart A portion of his grace to bless and purify the heart ; And thus we grow in faith and love, in fitness too for heaven, By daily cares, all from above, just like the manna, given. And I believe, as you believe, that nothing has been lost Of all these lessons, oft impressed, at so severe a cost; We needed each chastising blow the Father's hand has laid, His strokes " according to our sins" his wrath has never made : And though it may be we have failed to gather all we might, To see the reasons of his love, to learn the way of right, Yet slowly, oft unconsciously, his providence has wrought To change our plans, our sympathies, our very modes of thought. 140 NEARING HOME. For we believe, with joy believe, that every passing year, Has better fitted us for life and for life's duties here; For though we do not yet confess we pass down life's decline — Though failing health may seem to make the sun less clearly shine — Yet hearts as warm for Christ's dear cause within our breasts beat still, And minds as clear to read his word and study out his will ; And so the past has left its wealth that we may richer prove, To speak more wisely of his truth, more kindly of his love. And I believe, as you believe, that in these days by- past, The seed so freely scattered wide has not in vain been cast ; Some have we seen spring up and fade e'er summer's sun grew old, But some has also borne its fruit, full to the hundred fold: HUSBAND TO WIFE. 141 And faith assures us that good seed, which fell we knew not where, Left to the smiles and rains of heaven, of Providence the care, Has brought forth fruit ; no man can tell how far, how long, may spread, Though planted by an infant's hand, the increase of one seed. And I believe, as you believe, this life must soon be gone ; Our battles soon be fought, our crown for ever lost or won. We hope that in that trial- day our ears may hear his word: "Well done, good servants, share the joy for ever of your Lord ;" Yet in that gladsome hour our lips shall thankfully confess, "Not unto us, Lord, but to thy mercy and thy grace :" But anxious fears and pains and sins and death itself shall cease, While with the ransomed by his blood we'll taste his perfect peace. a nn >fc Wttbdtaber,* WILLIAM S. PLUMER, D. D. Youe life thus far has passed rapidly away. You felt surprise when you heard others speak of you as old. Perhaps even now you easily forget that you are no longer young. " Gray hairs are here and there upon Ephraim, yet he knoweth it not." It seemed hard for Samson to forget the feats of former days. Even when shorn of his strength he attempted new exploits. There is a vanity in some old persons which leads them to ape the young. Let every one act as best becomes his age. Paul says : " When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." It is a pitiable sight to see old and young trying to take each other's places. If you have passed middle life, admit the fact into your serious thoughts. The Bible requires reverence for the aged. "Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head." I approach * Tract No. 63, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 142 TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 143 you with the greatest respect. " I have a message from God unto thee." I wish to deliver it meekly, honestly, and solemnly. I beg you to hear it. I will use neither many nor vain words. I hope you believe the great truths of the Bible. If you doubt any of them, I beseech you to give yourself to prayer and to the word of God itself, that you may know the truth and be persuaded of it. An honest desire to know the truth, shown by prayer and searching the Scriptures, God will bless. He can teach you as no other can. Cry mightily to him. Wisdom comes " from above." No doubt you have sometimes said, " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." But do not your actions show that while you would die the death of the righteous you are not leading his life ? Remember, you have a soul. To save it is "the one thing needful." He who is poor, sick, and despised may save his soul, and so be happy for ever. He who is rich, strong, and full of all earthly good may lose his soul, and so be eternally undone. Because it is immortal the soul is of price- less value. Many have undervalued it. None ever thought it worth more than it is. God alone can know its full value. No man can pay a ransom for it, for its redemption is precious. To save it God 144 NEABING HOME. gave his dear Son. To save it, Jesus wept, and bled, and died. To save it, the Holy Spirit calls you to repentance. If you are not a true Christian, your soul is now in a lost condition. So the Bible teaches: "The soul that sinneth, it shall die;" "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish ;" " He that believeth not shall be damned;" "If our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost." So righteous is God, and so holy is his law, that many an aged person has felt the power of a fiery condemnation in his conscience before he left this world. William the Conqueror, of England, was a great king, warrior, and statesman. In his last days he wept, he groaned, he confessed, but no comfort came. He said : " Laden with many and grievous sins, I tremble ; and being ready to be taken soon into the terrible examination of God, I am igno- rant what I should do. I can by no means number the evils I have done these sixty years, for which I am now constrained, without stay, to render an ac- count to the just Judge." Many a monarch has died in anguish of soul. Neither greatness nor obscurity can shield a guilty soul from the terrors of the Al- mighty. The aged, impenitent pauper has groaned away his dying breath in dismay on his bed of straw. Through life men often feel that they are not at peace TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 145 with. God, and dying they confess it. Death is com- monly, though not always, an honest hour. Some hold out false signals even then, though not free from fears and terrors. At that trying moment, who would not prefer hope to fear, and peace to dismay ? Yet without a change of heart and a pardon of all our sins we cannot be saved. We " are by nature the children of wrath," so that " he that believeth not is condemned already." If you, my aged friend, have not fled to Christ, you are condemned, you are lost. But although your soul is lost, it is not lost beyond recovery. Blessed be God for that ! " There is mercy with God, that he maybe feared:" "With him is plenteous redemption :" "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; but that the wicked turn from his way and live ; turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die ?" I take up the words and repeat the question, Why will you die ? Why will you not be saved ? Will you not be saved ? I trust you will. I pray you may. I know that by divine grace you can. The door of mercy is yet open, open to you. Though you have sinned long and much and grievously against God, yet he says : u To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." For many years you thought it was time enough yet. Possibly this day your soul is taken in 19 146 NEARING HOME. some such snare. Stop and think, I pray you. Per- haps in an hour God may say: " Thy soul is required of thee." If he should, would you not be undone for ever ? You know that men commonly die as they live ; that a life of sin is the forerunner of endless misery; that dying regrets are a poor substitute for a life of holiness ; and that a death-bed repentance is little to be trusted. JNo wise man will leave to his last hours the proper work of life. But perhaps you think it is now too late to turn to God. Through hardness of heart you may not be in terrible despair. But the practical persuasion of your mind may be that God has no mercy for you, and that you have sinned too long to be forgiven. If so, let me plead with you to give up this delusion. No- where has God drawn up more terrible charges against sinners than in the first chapter of Isaiah, yet he concludes his address to these guilty men (and through them he speaks to you) thus : " Come, now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord ; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Could words better suit your case? and they are uttered in sincerity and truth. They are the words of God, He never mocks any of his creatures. We have in the Bible an account of the conversion TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 147 of an old and very great sinner. Manasseh, the son of pious Hezekiah, was early instructed in the true religion. When he became king he restored idolatry, which was the highest kind of offence. He insulted God to his face by defiling the temple. He formed a league with Satan, and used enchantments and witch- craft, sins punishable with death by the fundamental law of his kingdom. He sacrificed his own children to devils. He was one of the worst of murderers. "He shed innocent blood very much, till he had filled Jerusalem from one end to another." He was obsti- nate and refractory under reproof. He made the nation follow his wicked practices. He seemed to be mad upon his idols and iniquities. His sin was aggra- vated by the example and instruction of his good father to the contrary, by his high station, by his malice and wantonness, by his stubbornness and by his long continuance in it. He ascended the throne at twelve years of age, and he lived to the age of sixty- seven. Yet when he was sixty-two years old — that is, when he had for fifty years together defiled his soul, corrupted his people, and insulted Grod by enormous crimes — he was brought to repentance, par- doned and saved. " Old or young sinners, great or small sinners, are not to be beaten off from Christ, but encouraged to repentance and faith; for who 148 NEABINO HOME. knows but the bowels of mercy may yearn at last upon one that hath all along rejected it?" God has vast treasures of rich mercy in store even for old and hardened sinners who will "cease to do evil, and learn to do well." Even in our own day how many aged persons have been brought to repentance! Every old minister who has been very useful can tell of the wondrous dis- plays of the grace of God to such. Mr. H was a man of good family. He was well educated, but a proud scorner. He avoided the house, the worship, and the people of God. He was profane and mingled with such. He was often intoxicated with strong drink. Yet at the age of seventy-two God's Spirit arrested him and brought him to cry for mercy. He lived for more than two years after his change, and gave the best evidence he could in that time that he was indeed a new man. N. D went through nearly all the the war of American Independence with honour as a soldier, but not without injury to his morals. He was honest and truthful, but for more than fifty years of his life he seldom visited a church, and he was intemperate. God was not in all his thoughts till he was eighty- nine years old. Then he began with diligence and prayer to read the Scriptures. He went to the house TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 149 of God. He sought private instruction also. After a season of great spiritual distress he was brought to settled peace of mind. I have heard his pastor say that he never saw a more lively Christian. He lived more than eighteen months after this change, and was eminently devout, humble and happy to the last. He learned to sing several hymns. Never shall I forget his appearance and voice as he sang, "Amazing grace ! how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me ! I once was lost, but now am found ; Was blind, but now I see." "That suits me, that suits me exactly!" he often said. My aged friend, do you seek further assurances that there is mercy even for you if you will turn to God? Here they are: "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money ; come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price." "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." " Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." " The bruised reed he will not break, the smoking flax he will not quench." "A broken and a contrite heart, God, thou wilt not despise." Say not, " It is too late." Call upon God in earnest prayer ; ask others to pray for you and with you. Confess your sins to 150 NEABING HOME. God. If you have injured men, repair the injury as far as possible. " Seek the Lord, while he may be found." Come to Christ as you are, a poor, lost, helpless, guilty, polluted sinner, and he will save you, " He is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him." But if you refuse another hour, it may be too late. This may be the last call you will ever have. Any moment you may drop into hell. Will you, will you, oh will } r ou be saved ? aiding but Wmbts, ANONYMOUS. Nothing but leaves : the Spirit grieves Over a wasted life — Sins committed while conscience slept ; Promises made, but never kept ; Hatred, battle, and strife — Nothing but leaves. Nothing but leaves : no garnered sheaves Of life's fair ripened grain ; Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. We sow our seed — lo ! tares and weeds : We reap with toil and pain Nothing but leaves. Nothing but leaves : memory weaves No veil to screen the past ; As we retrace our weary way, Counting each lost and misspent day, We find sadly at last, Nothing but leaves. 151 152 NEARINQ HOME. And shall we meet the Master so, Bearing our withered leaves ? The Saviour looks for perfect fruit : We stand before him, humbled, mute, Waiting the word he breathes — " Nothing but leaves." SW out ||*Ip. ISAAC WATTS, D.D. Psalm xc. Our God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. Before the hills in order stood, Or earth received her frame, From everlasting thou art God, To endless years the same. Thy word commands our flesh to dust, " Return, ye sons of men ;" All nations rose from earth at first, And turn to earth again. A thousand ages in thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising dawn. 20 153 154 NEABING HOME. Time, like an ever-rolling stream. Bears all its sons away ; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day. Our God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Be thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home. m ||tt0to t\&t m must mt. FROM THE GERMAN OF B. SCHMOLKE. My Gtod ! I know that I must die, My mortal life is passing hence ; On earth I neither hope nor try- To find a lasting residence. Then teach me, by thy heavenly grace, With joy and peace my death to face. My God ! I know not when I die, What is the moment, or the hour, How soon the clay may broken lie, How quickly pass away the flower ; Then may thy child prepared be Through time to meet eternity. My Grod ! I know not how I die, For death has many ways to come, In dark, mysterious agony, Or gently as a sleep to some. Just as thou wilt ! if but I be For ever blessed, Lord, with thee. 155 156 NEABING HOME. My God ! I know not where I die, Where is my grave, beneath what strand, Yet from its gloom I do rely To be delivered by thy hand. Content, I take what spot is mine, Since all the earth, my Lord, is thine. My gracious God ! when I must die, Oh bear my happy soul above, With Christ, my Lord, eternally To share thy glory and thy love ! Then comes it right and well to me, When, where, and how my death shall be. fLs {prist m%QQstB. RICHARD BAXTER. Lokd, it belongs not to my care Whether I die or live ; To love and serve thee is my share, And this thy grace must give. If life be long, I will be glad That I may long obey ; If short, yet why should I be sad To soar to endless day ? Christ leads me through no darker rooms Than he went through before ; He that unto God's kingdom comes Must enter by his door. Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet, Thy blessed face to see ; Eor if thy work on earth be sweet, What will thy glory be ? Then shall I end my sad complaints, And weary, sinful days, 157 158 NEAEING HOME. And join with the triumphant saints That sing Jehovah's praise. My knowledge of that life is small, The eye of faith is dim ; But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, And I shall be with him. Re mhsBth Ifupe- REV. AUGUSTUS M. TOPLADY. When languor and disease invade This trembling house of clay, Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, And long to fly away ; Sweet to look inward, and attend The whispers of his love ; Sweet to look upward to the place Where Jesus pleads above ; Sweet to look back, and see my name In life's fair book set down ; Sweet to look forward, and behold Eternal joys my own ; Sweet to reflect how grace divine My sins on Jesus laid ; Sweet to remember that his blood My debt of suffering paid ; 159 160 NEABING HOME. Sweet in his righteousness to stand, Which saves from second death ; Sweet to experience, day by day, His Spirit's quickening breath ; Sweet on his faithfulness to rest, Whose love can never end ; Sweet on his covenant of grace For all things to depend ; Sweet in the confidence of faith To trust his firm decrees ; Sweet to lie passive in his hands, And know no will but his ; Sweet to rejoice in lively hope That when my change shall come, Angels shall hover round my bed, And waft my spirit home. Soon too my slumbering dust shall hear The trumpet's quickening sound ; And by my Saviour's power rebuilt, At his right hand be found. Sweet, blessed hope ! There I at last Shall see him and adore ; Be with his likeness satisfied, And grieve and sin no more ; THE BLESSED HOPE. 161 Shall see him wear that very flesh On which my guilt was lain ; His love intense, his merit fresh, As though but newly slain. If such the views which grace unfolds, Weak as it is below, What raptures must the Church above In Jesus' presence know ! If such the sweetness of the stream, What must the fountain be, Where saints and angels draw their bliss Immediately from thee ! Oh ! may the unction of these truths For ever with me stay ; Till from her sinful cage dismissed. My spirit flees away. 21 lietg mxtntft from t\t mtngz tsi %%t. JOHN GOSMAN. D. D. Every period of life — youth, manhood, and ag( has its peculiar characteristics. Advanced years we naturally associate with infirmity, and consider them as those in which we have no pleasure. It is the time of retreat from the business and turmoil of life, in which, from the sinking of the bodily powers, we seem hourly to advance to the closing scene. We are deprived of many sources of delight, and are thrown, so to speak, on our own resources. As the susceptibility to pleasure is abated, and the senses lose much of their acuteness, social intercourse in a great measure ceases to charm. The gifts of mind often follow the laws of decline ; the power of com- bining, the glow of fancy and the faculty of retention are impaired ; the mind wearies and becomes per- plexed. But in the case of the aged believer how changed the aspect ! The spiritual principle resists decay — "it abideth for ever." The powers with which grace has endowed the soul never experience the exhaustion of debility. This happy independ- 162 PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE. 163 ence of the mind, its capacity for enjoyment, distinct and spiritual, is seen in the vigour of perception and glow of emotion attesting its divine origin. The knowledge of advanced years is comprehensive ; truths long familiar by contemplation become in- vested with new attractions. The glory of redemp- tion is seen more clearly ; the mind becomes assured of the certainty of the word of God ; and their influ- ence is continually advancing and diffusing its sacred power over the whole character. Like the tree, it seems to shoot deeper its roots. Like the lofty cedar of Lebanon, it stands unmoved by the tempests of earth. The great essential truths of the word of God, of the sinfulness of our nature, the necessity of divine and gracious influence to quicken, purify and invig- orate the soul are understood and felt to be true by the test most decisive — experience. Cut off from many sources of enjoyment, the aged believer finds an admirable substitute in the fellowship of the spirit with God. He can say, " Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." He has the best society, and his sympathies are more elevated than those which connect with imperfection and change. After exploring the heavens and the earth for happiness, they seem to him a mighty void, a 164 FEARING HOME. wilderness of shadows, where all will be empty and unsubstantial without G-od. The language of his heart is, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." He has inward self-enjoyment, for the good man is "satisfied from himself." There is an entrance now into the joys of the future; he enters now into peace — for what is spiritual life but the life of God in the soul of man ? What are peace and joy in believing but the tranquillity of heaven brought down to earth? It is not the attribute of elevated genius alone to soar above the skies ; borne on the wings of faith, the believer can adopt the language of Milton in a more exalted sense, — " Upled by thee, Into the heaven of heavens I have presumed, An earthly guest, and drawn empyrean air." The enjoyments of religion are peculiar. They depend not on the senses, which may lose their quick- ness, or on the animal passions, which may become languid and faint, or on anything which is merely outward. They spring from the recesses of the heart. The natural eye may fade, but the eye of the spirit is vivid. The review of the past, while it humbles the spirit, yet comes with rich and fragrant recollections of the PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE. 165 goodness and faithfulness of God, which strengthen his confidence as to the future. An advanced be- liever happily expresses this trust : " I am only learn- ing as yet the alphabet of that supernatural science which teaches us to rest in him every day, and all the day, as the ' Lord our Strength.' " His mind oc- cupied with such grateful subjects of contemplation, his heart in repose on his covenant God, he is a stranger to the vacuity, the peevishness of caprice, and, above all, the dissatisfaction with themselves, which embitter the lives of those who, idolizing the world, find it an empty pageant. If such the joys of the believer while still imprisoned in his "house of clay," what raptures shall swell his enfranchised spirit when, dropping this decaying earthly taber- nacle, he shall ascend into the immediate presence of his God ! ANONYMOUS. No sickness there — No weary wasting of the frame away — No fearful shrinking from the midnight air, No dread of summer's bright and fervid ray. No hidden grief; No wild and cheerless vision of despair, — No vain petition for a swift relief — No tearful eyes, no broken hearts are there ! Care has no home ; In the bright realms of ceaseless prayer and song Its billows melt away, and break in foam, Far from the mansion of the spirit throng. The storm's black wing- Is never spread athwart celestial skies, — Its wailings blend not with the voice of spring, As some too tender flow'ret fades and dies. 166 HEAVEN. 167 No night distils Its chilling dews upon the tender frame ; No morn is needed there, — the light which fills That land of glory from its Maker came. No parted friends O'er mournful recollections have to weep ; — No bed of death enduring love attends, To watch the coming of a pulseless sleep. No blasted flower Or withered bud celestial gardens know ; No scorching blast or fierce descending shower Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe. * No battle word Startles the sacred host with fear and dread : The song of peace creation's morning knew Is sung wherever angel minstrels tread. Let us depart, If home like this await the weary soul : Look up, then, stricken one, — thy wounded heart Shall bleed no more at sorrow's stern control. With Faith our guide, White-robed and innocent, to lead the way, Why fear to plunge in sorrow's rolling tide, And find the Ocean of Eternal Day ? *i$k at afbetttiire. ANONYMOUS. The chequer'd day of life is past, Its varied joys, its varied cares ; The clear blue sky is overcast, And night a solemn aspect wears ; thou whose smile makest all things bright, At evening time let there be light. Darkness has often marked our way, And sorrow on our souls has press'd ; But thou canst all our fears allay, And cheer the closing hours of rest ; Thy love is boundless as thy might : At evening time let there be light. Oh, shine within our hearts ; reveal Thyself in Christ, the God of love ; Nor let one earthly cloud conceal The glory of the land above ; Our faith increase — our hope excite : At evening time let there be light. 168 LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 169 Like radiant stars that chase the gloom, And guide the traveller to repose, So let thy promises illume The shadow which death's coming throws ; And ere our spirit takes her flight, At evening time let there be light. 11 Let there be light." One word from thee Will every passing shade dispel ; Until thy face unveil' d we see, And in thy cloudless presence dwell. Soon shall our faith be changed to sight : In heaven there will be perfect light ! 22 jlrttst. MARTIN F. TUPPER. "My times are in thy hand." Yet will I trust ! in all my fears, Thy mercy, gracious Lord, appears, To guide me through this vale of tears, And be my strength. Thy mercy guides my ebb and flow Of health and joy, or pain and woe, To wean my heart from all below, To thee at length. Yes ! welcome pain which thou hast sent, Yes ! farewell blessing thou hast lent ; With thee alone I rest content, For thou art heaven. My trust reposes safe and still On the wise goodness of thy will, Grateful for earthly good or ill, Which thou hast given. 170 TRUST. 171 blessed Friend ! blissful thought ! With happiest consolation fraught — Trust thee I may, I will, I ought — To doubt were sin. ;« is iwi. ANONYMOUS. "All things work together for good to them that love Grod." Rom. viii. 28. Through the love of Grod our Saviour, All will be well. Free and changeless is his favour ; All, all is well. Precious is the blood that healed us, Perfect is the grace that sealed us, Strong the hand stretched forth to shield us, All must be well. Though we pass through tribulation, All will be well. Ours is such a full salvation, All, all is well. Happy, still in God confiding, Fruitful, if in Christ abiding, Holy, through the Spirit's guiding, All must be well. 172 ALL IS WELL. 173 We expect a bright to-morrow ; All will be well. Faith can sing, through days of sorrow, "All, all is well." On our Father's love relying, Jesus every need supplying, Or in living, or in dying, All must be well ! j|0 % WiUzmozt REV. GARDINER SPRING PLUMLEY. Mes. M was an aged woman. For eighty-four years Grocl had spared her, though she was an im- penitent, hardened sinner. Pious parents from her birth had commended her in faith to Grod, and with their dying breath prayed that she might meet them in heaven. Early in life she had imbibed skeptical notions, which she loved to avow. She read her Bible to find difficulties and make objections. When personally addressed on the subject of religion, she would adroitly turn the conversation to disputed topics, and claim that she could not understand the doc- trines of grace. Thus she lived with no fear of God before her eyes, and with no interest in his written and preached word, except as it furnished her with materials for argument and cavilling. Her faculties were unimpaired by age, her mind clear ; and, but for her repugnance to religion, her society was agreeable. Two successive ministers of the congregation to which her family belonged declared her to be the 174 TO THE UTTERMOST. 175 most hopeless individual for whom they laboured. They did not, however, neglect her. Often was her pastor found talking pointedly with her until she proposed an argument, when he would read an ap- propriate portion of Scripture, then pray with her, and go his way. He sometimes despaired of being at all useful to her, but was encouraged when he re- flected that her parents had been faithful, that God's people were praying for her conversion, that many texts of Scripture were in her memory, and that one of her household was daily setting her a godly ex- ample. One day, as usual, he called upon her. She seemed the same woman as ever — no penitence, no softness. She remarked, " I can't see anything wrong in what Christians call sin. I see evil in ugliness and the like ; but some very good people are always talking about their sins, I can't tell what they mean." The Scripture statements respecting the guilt of disobey- ing God were held up to view, and sin was described to her as " any want of conformity unto, or trans- gression of, the law of God." "Well, if there is such a thing as religion, I should not object to have it." " Do you doubt, then, that there is such a thing as religion ?" 176 NEARING HOME. " I never saw anybody different after, from what they were before, they professed to be converted." " Indeed ! that is strange ; though much younger than you, I think I have seen many. Is not your son L a different person from what he once was? Does he not give evidence of a great change?" " I can't see that he does. He always was a good boy before he was pious, and he is a good son now." " Do you not feel that you yourself need to be changed in order to meet an infinitely holy God ?" " No, I don't know as I do. I never have done any sin." After a pause the pastor read a few verses of Scrip- ture, and committed her to God in prayer. Ten days afterwards he visited her again. But to his surprise he seemed to find a woman as different from Mrs. M as it is possible to conceive. It was Mrs. M as far as form was concerned, but with a subdued expression of countenance wonderful to behold. God's Holy Spirit had descended upon her, and was powerfully convincing her of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment. She was bathed in tears, and with sobbing and cries for mercy was beg- ging God to pardon "the chief of sinners." Her pastor sought to comfort her, but she refused his con- TO THE UTTERMOST. 177 solations. " Oh, there is, there can be no mercy for me. Such a sinner, such a sinner !" " But I thought you didn't understand what sin is — that you had never sinned ? What have you been doing so bad of late ?" " Oh, do not talk so ; I have committed the greatest sin that any one can commit." " Why, what sin is that?" " Oh, it's rejecting Christ's mercy all these years^ Surely he will not save me now." Jesus was preached to her as " able to save them to the uttermost that come unto Glod by him." Heb. vii. 25. It was, however, many clays before she could rest upon Christ alone, and believe that he- would have anything to do with such a sinner. Prayer was daily made for her and with her. The old elder, her neighbor, whose visits and prayers were once un- welcome, was urged by her to come as often as he could, and all other Christian friends were entreated to pray. ? The worst is," said she, " I have been sinning on and on, and opposing everything good so long ; and now I am shut up in this corner, where I can do nothing but come to Christ ; and can it he possible that he will receive me when I can do nothing else f " Yes, he has promised to save to the uttermost. 178 HEARING HOME. He ever liveth, he will be your Saviour eternally. He is willing to begin to be your Jesus now. Though aged, you are blessed with clear reason. You can hear and understand his message : ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' " Acts xvi. 31. At last light broke in upon her soul. She saw the compassion of Jesus. She received him into her heart, and found all his promises true. Then her prayers were mingled with praises. She called upon all about her to sing the praises of her Saviour. In the night she would awake and request this, and on more than one occasion succeeded in having her friends sing " songs in the night." Old hymns long forgotten came back to her memory, and must be searched up and sung. The burden of those she loved most was the power of Christ to cleanse and save the vilest sinners. Jesus had discovered to her her sinfulness; Jesus had made her whole. The language of her heart was, " A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall : Be thou my strength and righteousness, My Jesus and my all. ' ' Here are important lessons. 1. There is hope even for those whose case seems most TO THE UTTERMOST. 179 hopeless. Never despair of such. Use all the means of grace for them. Do not argue with them. Read or repeat to them God's word, converse with them tenderly, and pray for them earnestly. Every true prayer will be answered, and every portion of truth become at last effectual. 2. Let parents train their children for Christ, and in faith commit them to his care. Teach them his word, set before them a godly example, and if you are taken from them, trust in God to make them his own. " I believe," said a dying Christian mother, " that all my children will be converted." And the event was in accordance with her faith. 3. Do not delay accepting Jesus as your Saviour. By so doing you rob God of that service which it is your privilege to render him now, and heap up sorrows for the future. Oh may you never know the pangs of remorse that follow a life of sin ! If you are now convinced of your duty, and fail to do it, God may leave you to your chosen course, to sink into eternal death. 4. The greatest sin is rejection of Christ 1 s love. Such is the testimony of a conscience enlightened by the Holy Spirit. Ah, sinner, beware ! Are you slight- ing the infinite love of Jesus ? Remember it was to bless you that he died ; to make you for ever happy 180 NEABING HOME. he bowed his head in unutterable anguish. And his power is as mighty as his love. If you believe on him, he can, he will save you. He is able to save THEM TO THE UTTERMOST THAT COME UNTO GOD BY HIM. I |ittle spa*. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. Beyond the smiling and the weeping I shall be soon ; Beyond the waking and the sleeping, Beyond the sowing and the reaping, I shall be soon. Love, rest and home ! Sweet home ! Lord, tarry not, but come ! Beyond the blooming and the fading I shall be soon ; Beyond the shining and the shading, Beyond the hoping and the dreading, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet home ! Lord, tarry not, but come ! Beyond the rising and the setting I shall be soon ; 181 182 NEARING HOME. Beyond the calming and the fretting, Beyond remembering and forgetting, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet home ! Lord, tarry not, but come ! Beyond the parting and the meeting I shall be soon ; Beyond the farewell and the greeting, Beyond the pulse's fever beating, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home ! Sweet home ! Lord, tarry not, but come ! Beyond the frost- chain and the fever I shall be soon ; Beyond the rock-waste and the river, Beyond the ever and the never, I shall be soon. Love, rest, and home, Sweet home ! Lord, tarry not, but come! ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. I have no doubt that you have remarked with surprise that the impression of the reality and im- portance of eternal things is not increased by the nearness of your approach to the end of your course. Time glides insensibly away, and it is with us in this respect as in relation to the globe on which we re- side. While other things appear to be in motion, our feeling is that we are stationary. The mere cir- cumstance of being old seems to affect no one with a more lively concern about the salvation of the soul. JSTone appear to be more blind and stupid in regard to religious matters than many who are tottering on the brink of the grave. This, indeed, is so com- monly the fact with those who have grown old with- out religion that very little hope is entertained of the conversion of the aged who have from their youth enjoyed the means of grace. And it is also a fact that real Christians are not rendered more deeply *From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbj'terian Board of Publication. 183 184 NEABING HOME. sensible of the awful importance of eternal things by becoming old and infirm. The truth is, that no- thing but an increase of faith by the operation of the Holy Spirit will be effectual to prepare us for that change which we know is rapidly approaching. Coun- sels and exhortations, however, are not to be ne- glected, as God is pleased to work by means. I have, therefore, undertaken to address to you such considerations as occur to me. Having already spoken of the infirmities and sins which are apt to cleave to us in advanced years, I propose in this letter to inquire what are the peculiar duties incumbent on the aged. What would the Lord have us to do ? Undoubtedly we are not privileged to fold our hands and sit down in idleness, as if our work was ended. Indeed, it would be no privilege to be exempt from all occupation. Such a life to the aged or the young must be a life of misery ; for man never was made to be idle, and his happiness is in- timately connected with activity. We may be no longer qualified for those labours which require much bodily strength ; we may indeed be so debilitated or crippled by disease that we can scarcely move our crazy frame, and some among us may be vexed with excruciating pain ; yet still we have a work to per- form for Grod and for our generation. PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 185 If we cannot use our hands and feet so as to be useful in the labours which we were wont to perform, yet we may employ our tongues to speak the praises of our God and Saviour. We may drop a word of counsel to those around us ; and especially the aged owe a duty to the young, to whom they may have access and who are related to them. Every aged Christian must have acquired much knowledge from experience, which he should be ready to communicate as far as it is practicable. Why is it, my dear friends, that we suffer so many opportunities of usefulness to pass without improvement ? Why are we so often silent when the suggestions of our own conscience urge us to speak something for God ? How is it that we consume hours in unprofitable talk, and seldom attempt to say anything which can profit the hearers? We may plead inability — we may excuse ourselves because we are unlearned and not able to speak elo- quently and correctly — but let us be honest ; is not the true reason because our own hearts are so little affected with these things? We cannot consent to play the hypocrite by uttering sentiments which we do not feel ; and we have often been disgusted with the attempts of others, who in a cold and constrained manner have introduced religious conversation. It is easy to see where the fault lies ; it is in the state 24 186 NEARING HOME. of our own hearts. Let us never rest, then, until we find ourselves in a better state of mind. Let us get our hearts habitually under the influence of divine things, and then conversation on this subject will be as easy as on any other. " Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh." There are companies and occasions when to obtrude remarks on religion would be unseasonable and imprudent, for we must not cast our pearls before swine ; but in most cases an aged person may give utterance to seasonable and solemn truths without offence ; and very often a word spoken in season has been the means of saving a soul ; and the advice and exhortation of parents and pious friends are remembered and prove salutary after their heads are laid low under the clods of the valley. I have often heard aged persons, incapable any longer of active service, express surprise that their unprofitable lives were so long protracted, while the young and laborious servants of Grod were cut off in the midst of their years. The dispensations of God are indeed inscrutable — "his ways are past finding out" — and we are too little acquainted with his coun- sels to sit in judgment on them. But I would say to those who think that they can be of no further use in the world, that they do not form a just estimate of PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 187 the nature of the service which Grod requires, and by which he is glorified by his creatures upon earth. All true obedience originates in the heart, and con- sists essentially of the affections of the heart : exter- nal duties are to be performed, but are only holy as connected with holy motives. The aged man may serve Grod therefore as sincerely and fervently as any others, if only the heart be right in the sight of God. He can glorify Grod in his spirit by thinking affec- tionately of his glorious name, by contemplating his divine attributes, and by exercising love and grati- tude towards him. His devotion might thus approach more nearly to our conceptions of the services and exercises of the saints in heaven. It may be that the lives of some are lengthened out that they may offer up many prayers for the Church and for the world ; for after all the activity and bustle and zeal apparent, there is no service which can be performed by mortals so effectual as prayer. Here there is a work to which the aged may be devoted. While Joshua and the men of war contend with the Amalekites in the battle, Moses assists by lifting up his hands in prayer ; and when he is, through fatigue, no longer able to hold them up, he is assisted by Aaron on one side and Hur on the other. If you cannot preach, you can by prayer 188 NEABING HOME. hold up the hands of those who do. You can follow the missionary who leaves all to go and labour in heathen lands with your daily and fervent prayers. It is not in vain for you to live while you have access to a throne of grace. Before the advent of Christ there were some aged persons who seem to have been preserved in life that they might pray for this event, and that they might enjoy the pleasure of seeing the answer of their prayers, and embracing him in their arms whom they had so often embraced by faith. While all around was spiritual death and desolation, and corruption and error had infected all classes, from the priesthood downward, there was a little band who had taken up their residence in the temple, or often frequented this holy place, who were waiting for the Consolation of Israel. Two of these were Simeon and Anna ; but there were others of the same character ; for we read that this very aged and pious widow, who departed not from the temple, but served God with fasting and prayers, night and day, " spake of Christ, after she had seen him, to all them who looked for redemption in Israel." The darker the the times the more closely do the truly pious adhere to each other. This little knot of praying people knew each other, and no doubt spake often one to another ; and in this case the Lord hearkened and PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 189 heard; for the object of their desires and prayers was given to them. Was the life of Anna an un- profitable life, although she never left the temple, and did nothing but fast and pray ? Was Simeon a useless member of the Church because he was proba- bly too old for labour? The truth was — and the same is often verified — that the true Church of God was at this time confined to a few pious souls ; while the priests and the scribes and the rulers had neither part nor lot in the matter. As God preserved Simeon, according to a promise made to him, until he saw the Lord's Christ, so he may be lengthening out the lives of some of you, my aged brethren, until you may have the opportunity of seeing the salvation of Israel come out of Zion. Do you not wish to be witnesses of the rise and glory of the Church ? Pray, then, in- cessantly for the peace and prosperity of Jerusalem. Consider it as your chief business to pray that the kingdom of God may come. What though the signs of the times be discouraging ; what though you live in troublous times ; what though the Church may be shaken, and the prospects of her increase be dark, yet remember that she is founded on a Rock, and the gates of hell cannot prevail against her. The vessel which carries Christ, though it be buffeted by storms, is in no danger of being wrecked. But to govern 190 NEABING HOME. and direct does not belong to you ; your duty is to pray — to pray without ceasing — to wrestle with the Angel of the Covenant, and not to let him go until he bless you. Give him no rest until he establish and make Jerusalem a praise in all the earth. You can- not offend by importunity, but by this you will be sure to prevail ; for " will not God hear his own elect who cry day and night unto him?" Therefore never hold your peace, but as long as you live intercede with him to fulfil his gracious promises, and to cause the earth to be filled with the knowledge of himself as the waters cover the sea, when his people shall be all righteous, and there shall be no need any longer for any one to say to his neighbour, Know the Lord, for all shall know him from the least to the greatest. Thanksgiving is also a duty peculiarly incumbent on the aged. In the providence of God you are spared, while most of your coevals have been cut off in the midst of their career. Some of you have enjoyed almost uninterrupted prosperity. "When you consider the dispensations of God's providence to- wards you in the time and place and circumstances of your birth, in giving you pious and intelligent parents, who took care of your health and education, and in following you with goodness and mercy all the days of your life ; giving you kind friends, faithful PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 191 teachers, health and reason, together with abundant religious privileges, how thankful ought you to be ! But that which above all other things enhances your obligations to gratitude is that in his own good time he effectually called you from the devious paths of iniquity, and adopted you as a child into his own household and family, and perhaps has made you the instrument of much good to others ; if not on a large scale, yet in your own family, and in the church of which you are a member. If now, to all these blessings, he has given you pious children, who pro- mise when you are gone more than to supply your place in society, or even if they have been preserved from infidelity and disgraceful immoralities, and are disposed to pay a serious attention to the preaching of the gospel, no words can express your obligations to give thanks unto the Lord, and continually to praise his name whose mercy endureth for ever and ever. " Let us therefore offer the sacrifice of praise to G-od continually — that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name." s^dl §0011 ht Sgiit0< ANONYMOUS. Ah ! I shall soon be dying, Time swiftly glides away ; But, on my Lord relying, I hail the happy clay — The day when I shall enter Upon a world unknown : My helpless soul I venture On Jesus Christ alone. He once, a spotless victim, Upon mount Calvary bled ; Jehovah did afflict him And bruise him in my stead ; Hence all my hope arises, Unworthy as I am ; My soul most surely prizes The sin-atoning Lamb. Soon, with the saints in glory, The grateful song I'll raise, 192 I SHALL SOON BE DYING. 193 And chant my blissful story In high seraphic lays. Free grace, redeeming merit, And sanctifying love Of Father, Son, and Spirit, I'll sing in realms above. 25 fyt IfflSS 0f Mtmox$. ANONYMOUS. How impaired the memory becomes as we advance in years ! "We are constantly forgetting the little oc- currences of everyday life, and our past history sometimes appears to us like an indistinct and troubled dream. The friends and associates of our youth fade from our recollection, and we are fre- quently unable to recall even the names which they bore. It is true that an aged person will sometimes manifest as clear and as tenacious a memory as is possessed by any one around him, but his case is a peculiar one, and does not warrant others to expect that they will be similarly favoured. For loss of memory is a common and natural infirmity of old age ; and we must not be surprised, and we ought not to be impatient, at this indication, among many others, of our mortality. The present world is not our rest, although we are too prone to live as if it were so ; and our failing strength and weakened faculties are kind and neces- 194 THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 195 sary remembrancers of our actual position here. And not only do they remind us that we have reached the evening of life, and should prepare for the dawn of immortality, but they tend to assist us in making that preparation, by withdrawing us from the ardu- ous and engrossing occupations of the world, and by gradually weaning us from our natural attachment to this present state of existence. Our feeble powers, both of body and mind, unfit us for the busy engage- ments into which we once entered so heartily, and in our retirement from the active duties of life we have opportunity for meditation and reflection ; while the privations and trials to which we are subjected in- cline us to say with the afflicted patriarch, " I would not live alway ;" and thus make us willing to depart. The failure of memory is, however, very trying and inconvenient ; and it is a loss which cannot be repaired. " My memory fails clay by day," writes a Christian lady in her seventieth year to her sister. " I cannot remember where I put anything, no, not for an hour ; and though the inconvenience might be prevented by having a place for everything, and being careful to put everything in its proper place— a rule good in every time of life — it is frustrated by my forgetting that I forget. No person can conceive the trial this is but they who have experienced it. It 196 NEARING HOME. is equally distressing with regard to circumstances and dates. I must make a memorandum of every- thing ; and then I lose the memorandum, or mislay the book in which I note down things of importance. However, I have mercies great and numerous to balance, and infinitely more than balance this ; my life is hid with Christ in God ; my Jesus is my surety that all will be well : lie forgets not. All my concerns are in his hands ; he will manage all, per- fect all, finish all." Oh, amidst the changes and the imperfections which are incidental to the present life, how full of comfort is the thought that Jesus forgets not ! He ever remembers his people, and retains the liveliest interest in their minutest concerns. " Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget; yet will I not forget thee."* JNo lapse of time can enfeeble or destroy his perfect and per- petual cognizance of our affairs. And although our memories are rapidly failing, although they are unable now to fulfil the trust which we once reposed in them, they can still grate- fully recall the Saviour's precious name, and ardently cherish the recollection of his unspeakable love. * Isa. xlix. 15. THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 197 The pious Bishop Beveridge, when on his death- bed, was unable to recognize any of his relatives or friends. A clergyman with whom he had been inti- mately acquainted visited him, and when introduced into his room, said, " Bishop Beveridge, do you know me?" "Who are you?" said the aged prelate. Being told who the minister was, he shook his head, and said that he did not know him. Another friend addressed him in a similar manner, " Do you know me, Bishop Beveridge ?" " Who are you ?" he again inquired. Being told that it was one of his old friends, he replied that he did not recollect him. His wife then came to his bedside, and asked him if he knew her, but the good bishop had lost all remem- brance even of his wife. At last some one present said, "Well, Bishop Beveridge, do you know the Lord Jesus Christ?" "Jesus Christ!" repeated he, as if the name had produced upon him the influence of a charm ; "oh, yes, I have known him these forty years ; precious Saviour ! He is my only hope." " How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear!" Saviour ! if we forget all besides, may we remem- ber thee ! May we look to thee — rest on thee — abide in thee — and wait for that happy period when we shall be for ever with thee ! 198 NEABING HOME. And when we have reached heaven, we shall no longer have to complain of the imperfection of memory. For then we shall remember — remember without any effort, any mistake, any omission — the way in which the Lord our God has led us so many years in the wilderness. What a retrospect will that be ! The light of eternity will shine on the records of the past, and each page of our life will be clear and legible. And we shall read them without pain or regret. In this world the recollection of bygone days is often fraught with much that is sorrowful. Scenes and events come back to our thoughts on which we dare not dwell, and which we would fain forget. But it will not be so above. Perfect and vivid as that mental glance which shall survey our journey through life from the cradle to the grave will unquestionably prove, it will be accompanied by so deep and augmented an acquaintance with the loving providence of our heavenly Father, and by such sweet and entire submission to his will, as will render it impossible for the remembrances to awaken the slightest emotion of grief in our hearts. Or rather, it will furnish us with such accumulated and varied proofs of God's tenderness and care as will fill our spirits with grateful adoration. Oh, as we recall with accurate minuteness the circumstances of THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 199 our earthly history, we shall see enough of God's marvellous wisdom and loving-kindness to excite our praise throughout all eternity. Instead, then, of lamenting over our present in- firmity, let us endeavour to realize that freedom from all imperfection and those superior mental faculties which we shall enjoy in a future state. We are now drawing near to the land of perpetual youth and vigour. The weakened intellect, the declining- strength, the failing memory, these are tokens that it will not be very long before our weary spirits are at rest. A poor aged widow — poor in this world's wealth, but rich in faith — in reply to the kind inquiry of her minister after her health, replied with cheerfulness, " What cause I have to be thankful ! How many at my age are confined to their beds, while I am able to be about and clean my own house ! I hope I may have my faculties to the last." u You find, I dare say," he remarked, " that this earthly house of your tabernacle is being dissolved : now one pin is taken down, now another ; now this part melts away, now that." "Yes, sir, I do indeed find that my poor old body is very weak ; often when I only walk across the room I am extremely giddy ; and my memory almost fails me. Sometimes I get 200 NEABING HOME. up and go into the other room to fetch something which I want, and when I come there, I stand, and have quite forgotten for what I came." "You remember, perhaps, what took place when you were a girl far more distinctly than what you heard or saw only last week ?" " Oh yes, sir, ; it seems to me but a few days since I was a girl ; my father lived at the mill, and I re- member how I used to go into the fields, and have many a game there with my little playfellows." "Well, my dear friend, memory generally seems to be the first faculty which is taken from the aged ; and God thus reminds them to forget those things which are behind, and to reach forth to those things which are before. He prevents their looking back, in order that they may learn to look forward" Let us all " look forward ;" and as we muse on the glorious realities of heaven, can we murmur that we should forget the fading things of earth ? Is it not well that the nearer we are to the joys of eternity, the less vivid and perceptible appear the vanities of time? A mist has gathered over the scenes of earth, but everlasting sunshine is about to break forth. Stager of nn Jyjtir ||dfeb*r. SIR ROBERT GRANT. With years oppressed, with sorrows torn, Dejected, harassed, sick, forlorn, To thee, Lord, I pray ; To thee these withered hands I raise, To thee I lift these failing eyes, Oh cast me not away. Thy mercy heard my infant prayer, Thy love, with all a mother's care, Sustained my childish days ; Thy goodness watched my ripening youth, And formed my heart to love thy truth, And filled my lips with praise. Saviour, has thy grace declined ? Can years affect th' eternal mind, Or time its love decay ? A thousand ages pass thy sight, And all their long and weary flight Is gone like yesterday. 26 201 202 NEABINO HOME. Then e'en in age and grief thy name Shall still nly languid heart inflame, And bow my faltering knee ; For yet this bosom feels the fire ; This trembling hand and drooping lyre, Have still a strain for thee. Yes ! tuneless, broken, still, Lord, This voice, transported, shall record Thy goodness, tried so long ; Till sinking slow, with calm decay, Its feeble numbers melt away Into a seraph's song. FROM THE GERMAN OF J. LANGE. What no human eye hath seen, What no mortal ear hath heard, What on thought hath never been In her noblest flights conferred, — This hath Grod prepared in store For his people evermore. When the shaded pilgrim-land Fades before my closing eye, Then, revealed on either hand, Heaven's own scenery shall lie ; Then the veil of flesh shall fall, Now concealing, dark'ning all. Heavenly landscapes, calmly bright, Life's pure river, murmuring low, Forms of loveliness and light Lost to earth long time ago, — Yes, my own, lamented long, Shine amid the angel throng. 203 204 NEABING HOME. Many a joyful sight was given, Many a lovely vision here, Hill and vale, and starry even, Friendship's smile, affliction's tear, — These were shadows sent in love, Of realities above. When upon my wearied ear, Earth's last echoes faintly die, Then shall angel harps draw near, All the chorus of the sky ; Long-hushed voices blend again Sweetly in that welcome strain. Here were sweet and varied tones, Bird and breeze, and fountain's fall ; Yet creation's travail groans, Ever sadly sighed through all ; There no discord jars the air — Harmony is perfect there ! When this aching heart shall rest, All its busy pulses o'er, From her mortal robes undrest, Shall my spirit upward soar ; Then shall pure, unmingled joy All my thoughts and powers employ. HEAVENLY REALITIES. 205 Here devotion's healing balm Often came to soothe my breast ; Hours of deep and holy calm, Earnests of eternal rest ; But the bliss was here unknown Which shall there be "all" my own. Jesus reigns, the Life, the Sun, Of that wondrous land above ; All the clouds and storms are gone, All is light, and all is love. All the shadows melt away In the blaze of perfect day. REV. JOHN KENNEDY. Very mournful are some of the Bible descriptions of old age. " The days of our years are threescore years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sor- row ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." This is no picture of fancy. JS"or is that which Solomon gives us by way of enforcing the exhortation, " Re- member now thy Creator in the days of thy youth," when he says, "While the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them ; while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain ; — "In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, And the strong men shall bow themselves, And the grinders cease because they are few, And those that look out of the windows be darkened, And the doors shall be shut in the streets, * From " Eest under the Shadow of the Great Rock. A Book of Facts and Principles. ! ' By the Bey. John Kennedy, M. A. . 206 SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 207 TVTien the sound of the grinding is low, And he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, And all the daughters of music shall be brought low ; Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, And fears shall be in the way, And the almond tree shall flourish, And the grasshopper shall be a burden, And desire shall fail : because man goeth to his long home, And the mourners go about the streets : Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, Or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, Or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was : And the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. ' ' Such is old age, and such its invariable ending. And so far as its physical aspects are concerned, as it is with the wicked, so it is with the righteous. But the picture has another side. " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness." Prov. xvi. 31. " The righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree : he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing ; to show that the Lord is upright : he is my rock, and there is no un- righteousness in him." Psalm xcii. 12, 15. Even to us in Western lands, who, though we have seen palm trees and cedars, are not familiar with them, 208 NEABING HOME. this description is very striking and suggestive. The ideas of majesty, and beauty, and fruitfulness, and honour, all connect themselves with the cedar and the palm tree. "The palm," we are told, "grows slowly but steadily from century to century, uninflu- enced by those alternations of the seasons which affect other trees. It does not rejoice overmuch in winter's copious rain, nor does it droop under the drought and the burning sun of summer. Neither heavy weights which men place upon its head, nor the importunate urgency of the wind, can sway it aside from perfect uprightness. There it stands, looking calmly down upon the world below, and pa- tiently yielding its large clusters of golden fruit from generation to generation. They bring forth fruit in old age." When the Psalmist says, " Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our Grod," he alludes probably to the cus- tom of planting beautiful and long-lived trees in the courts of temples and palaces, and in all "high places" for worship — a custom still common in the East. Nearly every palace and mosque and convent in Syria has such trees in its courts, and, being well-protected, they flourish exceedingly. Solomon covered all the walls of the Holy of Holies with carvings of palm trees. They were thus represented SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 209 in the very house of the Lord ; and their presence there was not only ornamental, but appropriate and highly suggestive; the very best emblem, not only of patience in well-doing, but of the rewards of the righteous — a fat and flourishing old age, a peaceful end, a glorious immortality. Old age, with all its physical infirmities and draw- backs, may then be very beautiful, very useful and very happy. But, in order to this, the one grand essential pre- requisite is that the old man should have faith in Grod and in his Christ. I say "in his Christ," because a mere general faith in the being and government of Grod is not sufficient. " How dreary would old age* and illness be without the great doctrine of the Atonement!" said John Foster, when himself old and ill. He spoke as a Christian and with reference to his Christian life. The omissions and shortcom- ings of the best life presented themselves to his mind. " One feels," he said, "that, in the great concern of religion, much more might have been done." And it was this thought that made him revert to the great doctrine of the Atonement. Conscious that while he had " lived to God" he had lived so imperfectly, had come so far short of what he ought to be, and what he ought to have done, whither should he look for 27 210 NEARING HOME. peace but to that atonement through which sin is forgiven and the sinner reconciled to God ? And if the Christianas condition would be dreary without free and daily access to Christ for daily cleansing and pardon, how unutterably dark must be the condition roniises, and thus fills the soul with an all-sustain- ing, all-conquering energy. The Holy Spirit, by whom all spiritual blessings are bestowed, brings to the Christian just the strength which he needs, and teaches him to embrace it by faith. That faith may be weak ; but its efficacy depends upon the reality, not the degree of our faith ; and, therefore, if we sin- cerely trust in God, through Christ, we may assuredly expect that the aid which we look for, and for which we supplicate, will be granted us. Yet, while it is true that the smallest amount of true faith forms, so to speak, a channel through which God's grace flows into our hearts, it is equally true that a stronger degree of faith is more honouring to- God, while it would lead us to anticipate, and prepare us to receive, a far greater measure of heavenly assistance than we now possess. "According to your faith," says the Saviour, "be it unto you ;"* and, therefore, if we de- sire to run without weariness, to walk without faint- ing, and to mount up with wings as eagles towards our rest above, we should make the request of his disciples our own, " Lord, increase our faith. "f Your " wanderings in the wilderness," reader, may be now drawing towards a close. It will, then, not be long before you will be called to pass over the * Matt. ix„ 29. t Luke xvii. 5. 244 NEABING HOME. river Jordan, that you may enter the promised land. Yet, as we have seen, new trials may have to be encountered in the last stages of your lengthened and perhaps wearisome journey. There is no immu- nity from sorrow until you reach that blessed country, where God shall himself wipe away all tears, and give you that fulness of joy which is inseparable from his presence. But, remember, aged Christian, the promise, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be," and hold the beginning of your confidence steadfast unto the end. As you think of the evening of life, the night of death, and the solemnities of the last judgment, resolve with the Psalmist, " I will go in the strength of the Lord Grod : I will make mention of thy righteousness, even of thine only."* So shall you go on from strength to strength, until you appear in Zion before your Grod.f * Psa. lxxi. 16. t Pea. Ixxxiv. 7. arrg **$ i 1 ANONYMOUS. Taery with me, my Saviour, For the day is passing by : See ! the shades of evening gather, And the night is drawing nigh ! Tarry with me ! tarry with me ! Pass me not unheeded by ! Many friends were gathered round me In the bright days of the past ; But the grave has closed above them, And I linger here the last ! I am lonely ; tarry with me Till the dreary night is past. Dimmed for me is earthly beauty ; Yet the spirit's eye would fain Rest upon thy lovely features : Shall I seek, dear Lord, in vain ? Tarry with me, my Saviour, Let me see thy smile again ! 245 246 NEARING HOME. Dull my ear to earth-born music : Speak thou, Lord, in words of cheer : Feeble, tottering my footstep, Sinks my heart with sudden fear ; Cast thine arms, dear Lord, around me, Let me feel thy presence near. Faithful memory paints before me Every deed and thought of sin ; Open thou the blood-filled Fountain, Cleanse my guilty soul within : Tarry thou, forgiving Saviour ! Wash me wholly from my sin ! Deeper, deeper grow the shadows, Paler, now, the glowing west ; Swift the night of death advances ; Shall it be the night of rest ? Tarry with me, my Saviour ! Lay my head upon thy breast ! Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying, Lord, I cast myself on thee : Tarry with me, through the darkness ! While I sleep, still watch by me Till the morning ; then awake me, Dearest Lord, to dwell with thee. utlibri* \tx jHsefttltuss. MRS. ADELINE T. DAVIDSON. Not till the dark .waves of Jordan Shall close on the steps that have passed, Not till the portals of heaven Shall welcome the ransomed at last, — Not till I join in the chorus That sounds o'er the " crystal sea," May I cease to be striving and praying That others may enter with me. We were riding along very slowly, with the solemn, measured tread which compels reflection. She whose dust we were reverently depositing in peaceful rest was an aged Christian. For many years she had been foremost in every work of love and mercy. Generous, untiring, and self-sacrificing, she had passed a long life of usefulness in her family and in the church that she loved. Years of infirmity and helplessness followed, and for many weary months those hands which had ministered so cheerfully unto others could not supply her own slightest need. And then her change came. * Tract No. 267, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 247 248 NEABING HOME. " What a devoted Christian she was years ago !" was remarked ; " but she has long outlived her useful- ness. I have often wondered why such old people live. Such a one as old Mrs. J , for instance— so perfectly helpless. She was prepared to die, we know, and yet she must have been weary of so burdensome a life." " Did she ever express herself as being weary of life?" I asked. " Oh ! no, she was as patient as a lamb. If I were to be ill a long time, I should think it was intended to teach me patience. But she did not need such a discipline." •" And her family?" " It may have benefited them. Mary has waited upon her grandmother so long that she has grown like her, and has become a most lovely character, so gentle and self-denying." " Did she retain her eyesight sufficiently to read ?" " For several years past she has been quite blind. As her grandchildren would come in, she would ask them to read a single verse of the Bible, and which of the most thoughtless would refuse so small a re- quest ? Then she would in her quiet way make such varied, such beautiful application of this one text! It was a precious commentary. I think that they OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS. 249 will never forget some of them. I know that, she spent much of her time in prayer." " Do you suppose she is praying now?" " Certainly not. Her prayers are ended. We read of praises in heaven, but of no intercessions ex- cept those of Christ." " Has her family been blessed apparently?" " All her children are in the church. Her eldest son living is our most active elder, and just before her death she heard of the conversion of two of her grandsons at the West, who had been in situations of peculiar temptation." " Do you think she remembered the church?" " If you had known her you would not ask that. Her church was as dear unto her as the apple of her eye. She spent many a long hour in her sleepless nights in asking for blessings on the church, when the rest of the congregation were sleeping." " Just now you wondered why Grod in his provi- dence protracted the life of aged Christians when their days of active usefulness were over. And yet it seems evident that in this case it was the means of teaching patience, gentleness, a knowledge of the Scriptures, and that in answer to her prayers many of her family have been hopefully converted. ISo effectual, fervent prayer of the righteous is ever lost. 32 250 NEARING HOME. As this life is the only season for prayer, hers may have been protracted for this express purpose. For many generations, for aught you or I can tell, bless- ings temporal and spiritual may be granted in an- swer to the prayers of that helpless, bed-ridden Christian.' ' Said the angel of the covenant unto one who had wrestled with him all night, "As a prince hast thou power with God, and hast prevailed." Are there now no princes in prayer like him who strove at Peniel ? None now who wrestle not one night only, but through long years of infirmity and suffering it may be, yet of cherished communion with GJ-od, whose prayers, presented "in the golden vial" by an al- mighty Advocate, are poured back in priceless bene- dictions ? Let us try to realize that not one day of weariness will be given to the maturest saint that is not neces- sary ; not one sigh breathed that has not its errand. The servant of Christ need never be useless, under any circumstances, in any place, alone, on a bed of weakness, shut out from the world, deaf even, while the heart can beat with love to a dying world, or con- scious thought rise to the mercy-seat. We should shine till the last, and the brighter at the last. The nearer we draw to the Sun of Right- OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS. 251 eousness, the clearer should become our reflection of his loveliness and glory. "Outlived Ms usefulness!" Never let such a sen- tence be uttered by a Christian. A lady was urging a man in middle life to enter once more a Sabbath-school where he had formerly assisted, and where his services were greatly needed. He declined. " I have taught for twenty years ; I have served my time." " Then your experience will be all the more valu- able," was suggested. He persisted in refusing, adding, conclusively, that " his work was done." The next Sabbath they met in the vestibule of the church. As he greeted her she said, quietly, " I did not expect to see you here." "Ah! why not?" "You told me the last time I saw you that your work was done. Now I always supposed that when our work was all clone the Master would send for us. So I supposed you had gone to your reward." fyt Haps of t\t mztonzohtt. SIR ROBERT GRANT. When gathering clouds around I view, And days are dark and friends are few, On him I lean who, not in vain, Experienced every human pain ; He sees my wants, allays my fears, And counts and treasures up my tears. If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly virtue's narrow way, To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do, — Still he who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. When vexing thoughts within me rise, And sore dismayed my spirit dies, Yet he who once vouchsafed to bear The sickening anguish of despair Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry, The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 252 THE HOPE OF THE DISCONSOLATE. 253 When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, Which covers all that was a friend, And from his voice, his hand, his smile, Divides me for a little while, Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed, For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. And oh when I have safely passed Through every conflict but the last, Still, still unchanging, watch beside My painful bed, for thou hast died ; Then point to realms of cloudless day, And wipe the latest tear away. mux mom*. ALICE CARY. One sweetly solemn thought, Comes to me o'er and o'er, — I'm nearer my home to-day Than I've ever been before. Nearer my Father's house, Where the many mansions be, — Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the jasper sea. Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down, — Nearer leaving the cross, Nearer wearing the crown. But, lying darkly between, Winding down through the night, To the dim and unknown stream, That leads me at last to the light, — 254 NEABER HOME. 255 Close, closer my steps Come to the dark abysm, — Closer death to my lips Presses the awful chrysm. Saviour, perfect my trust, Strengthen the might of my faith ; Let me feel as I would when I stand On the rock of the shore of death, — Feel as I would when my feet Are slipping over the brink ; For it may be I'm nearer home, — Nearer now than I think. |5eg0tttr % gnmstt REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. "At evening time it shall be light."— Zech. xiv. 7. " Thy sun shall no more go down." — Isa. lx. 20. Shadows o'er the vale are creeping, And the sun sinks to his rest : Twilight draws her curtains softly, Grolden clouds hang in the west. Hushed the noise of busy labour, Toil has sought its wonted rest ; Whispering trees and murmuring streamlets Sweetly soothe each troubled breast. Time is fleeting, and I'm drawing Near the sunset of my life ; Soon will end my weary journey, Soon will cease all toil and strife. Shadows o'er my path are falling, Earthly visions fade away, Voices soft and sweet are telling Of an endless, orient day. 256 BEYOND THE SUNSET. 257 O'er the misty mountains hastens One I've waited long to see ; Soft as night- clew falls on meadows, His kind bidding, " Come to me." Lo ! the purple light of evening, Stealing gently up the sky, Bears me on its wings to meet him. Is this death ? 'Tis sweet to die. Jesus calls me, and I'm going Where the shadows never come ; Now the desert lies behind me, And I hasten to my home — To my home beyond the sunset, Far beyond the day's decline, Where the glory is unfading, Where the golden portals shine. $* ftttdjattgrttg Wtitvto. ANONYMOUS. The evening was calm and pleasant, enlivened by a gentle breeze and the rays of the declining sun. At the door of a low cottage sat an old man. His hair was white, his form was bent, and his dim eyes were fixed on the richly-tinted clouds. Was he ad- miring the simple grandeur of an evening sky ? I think not. His features wore a sad and troubled ex- pression, as if his mind were occupied by thoughts which had but little connection with the objects around him. And so indeed it was. He was think- ing of the uncertain and unsatisfying nature of earthly friendship; he was musing over a painful proof which he had that day received of the ingrati- tude and unkindness of one whom he had loved and cherished in years gone by. "It is trying, very trying," he said, "to be thus deceived and injured by an early friend. It is not an enemy that has done this, but it was my compan- ion and familiar friend. He was the last person 258 THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 259 from whom I should have expected such treatment ; I always reposed the most perfect confidence in him. Oh, what is friendship ? It is like a slender reed, which, when leaned upon, often pierces us through with many sorrows." The old man's feelings had been sadly wounded, and his mind was much disturbed. But, perhaps, just then the serene aspect of nature soothed him, or perhaps bright memories of loved and faithful ones reproached him for his indiscriminate censure ; for he added, in a more cheerful tone, "Not that all friends prove false and changeable. Oh no ! I have known and shared too much of the warm and un- selfish and continued affection of others to believe that friendship is nothing but a name. In prosperity and in adversity I have found that there are true friends. I have loved, and I have been loved; I have trusted, and I have been confided in. Life would indeed have been dreary without the sym- pathy and communion of friends — especially of Christian friends. "And yet, at the best, earthly friendships are very imperfect. Liable to little mistakes — to partial interruptions ; or, if unvarying in their character, incapable of entering into all our feelings, or of responding to all our emotions. And how slight is 260 NEABING HOME. the tenure by which they are held ! A few weeks, a days, nay, a few hours, and the most loved of our circle may be removed from us. Death severs the closest and the fondest ties. In yonder churchyard lie the remains of those who were once my dearest companions. Many gathered round me in early life, and set out with me on the pilgrimage to the celestial city ; but they have finished their course, and now I am left alone : the grave has divided us — at least for a little while." Ah, in the last half of that sentence, there was a cheering truth involved, and the old man felt its sweet influence steal over him. " For a little while ! — yes, we shall meet again. They will not return to me, but I shall go to them. I sorrow not as others without hope, for I know that those who sleep in Jesus God will bring with him, and so shall we ever be with the Lord. In this world of partings, how delightful is the assurance of a speedy and lasting re-union with all those dear friends who have departed in the true faith of Christ !" Like the sunshine bursting through a dark cloud, this bright anticipation almost dispelled the old man's sadness ; and it was succeeded by a thought so full of consolation and joy that he speedily forgot the un- THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 261 pleasant circumstance which had lately agitated his feelings. " Yet it is still more delightful to remember that I have an ever-living, an almighty Friend. The best earthly friends may change or die, but Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. He will never leave me, he will never forsake me. Oh, why should I mourn over the loss or the inconstancy of earthly friends when my kind and sympathizing Saviour is ever with me ?" Reader, you cannot have advanced thus far in the experience of life without having learned, like this aged pilgrim, that instability and uncertainty are as- sociated with all human affections. You have doubt- less mourned over those friends whom time or cir- cumstances, or death have parted from you ; but have also rejoiced in the assurance of Christ's per- petual and never-changing friendship? Ah, there are many who have been deceived and disappointed in the trust which they have reposed in their fellow- creatures, and who have also never sought that heav- enly Friend with whom there is no variableness nor shadow of turning ; there are many who have hewn out to themselves broken cisterns which could hold no water, who have yet refused to turn, when weary and dissatisfied, to the Fountain of living waters. 262 NEABING SOME. " thou who driest the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to thee ! ' ' And it is dark to those who, in their hours of sorrow and desertion, have no confidence in the Saviour, no reliance on his love and sympathy. The heart that has none on earth or in heaven around whom to twine must indeed be a desolate and drooping heart. Grod grant that it may never be ours ! Nor can it if we are united by a simple and living faith to Christ, for we are then linked with those whom he graciously calls his " friends ;" and are assured that we possess at all times and under every circumstance his tender and unwavering regard. How cheering and all-sustaining, amidst the separations, the im- perfections, and the declensions which mark the fairest of earthly friendships, is the consciousness that we have an unchanging and unfailing Friend, who is always ready to impart to us his sympathy and his succour. We would not undervalue the preciousness of earthly love. It is one of the choicest gifts which Grod bestows upon a fallen world. It is a relic of Paradise and a type of heaven. Yet still we are taught by experience how precarious is the tie which THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 263 binds us to the dearest and most loved friend. It is impossible to help feeling — without the least inclina- tion towards misanthropy — that our affections are sometimes misplaced, that our dependence is often productive of disappointment. Imperfection and uncertainty are stamped on all the objects and rela- tionships of earth ; for " this is not our rest ;" we are destined for a better country, the bright inhabitants of which are linked in pure and immortal friendship. And while we anticipate with gladness the period which shall unite us with that wholly and happy brotherhood, we will remember our best Friend — the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother — and fear- lessly anchor our troubled and unsatisfied hearts in his deep and changeless love. That resting-place for the affections never has failed — never can fail. The circumstances which enfeeble, suspend, and terminate many of the friendships which are formed between man and man, possess no influence over the emotions which the Saviour feels towards his chosen friends, and are incapable of altering the position in which, if Christians, we stand with regard to Christ. For instance, it frequently happens that the dis- tance which intervenes between some friend and our- selves diminishes, and at length, perhaps, closes our friendship. He does not intend, when separated, to 264 NEABING HOME. forget us, but absence gradually lessens the strength of his attachment ; his correspondence almost imper- ceptibly declines, or, through unavoidable circum- stances, is hastily ended ; and as time rolls on, he grows more and more indifferent towards us. Had he always remained near us, and continued the per- sonal intercourse which once subsisted between us, he might not have changed ; but in his removal he verifies the truth of the old adage, " Out of sight, out of mind." Our aged readers can doubtless confirm by their own experience the truth of this statement. They can recall to mind some, it may be several, of their early acquaintances thus geographically divided from them, who have for many years been as strangers to them. But the Saviour, although personally absent from his people, never for one moment forgets them. From the time when he departed from his disciples at Bethany, where a cloud received him out of their sight, he gave them the most indisputable and unin- terrupted proofs of his unchanged affection. He as- cended then as a triumphant conqueror to heaven, and was enthroned at the right hand of God ; but the glory which as the Mediator was bestowed upon him could not intercept from his view the few poor fishermen of Galilee ; nor could the songs of angelic THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 265 adoration which he received hush the earnest sup- plications that rose from that little band who were assembled in an upper chamber at Jerusalem. ~No ; his love was the same in heaven as it had been on earth ; and the rich and abundant gifts which were poured forth upon his faithful disciples were the im- mediate results of his exaltation and intercession. He consoled and guided them by his Spirit, and strengthened them for the avowal and defence of his truth. In his remonstrance with the persecuting Saul he distinctly identified himself with his people, estimating the injuries done to them as if inflicted upon himself: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?"* And he manifested the deep interest in their welfare by his gracious appearance to the apostle of the Grentiles, when he bade him "Be of good cheer," and prepared him to advocate the cause of his Saviour in Rome. But it is unnecessary to multiply proofs, either from the early or subsequent history of the Church, of the unvarying character of that regard which the ascended Redeemer cherishes for all those who through grace have accepted his gracious overtures of friendship. We need only appeal to yourselves, dear readers, as witnesses to the cheering fact that * Acts ix. 4. 34 266 NEABING HOME. the love of Christ — that love which passeth know- ledge — is unaffected by the withdrawal of his per- sonal presence from amongst us. His continued intercessions on our behalf, his rich impartation to us of all needful grace, and his preparation of a place for us in his Father's house, are sure evidences of his perpetual and affectionate remembrance. Again, one of the causes which render human friendship so variable is alteration in worldly cir- cumstances. When competency is exchanged for poverty ; when, in the expressive language of Scrip- ture, we are " made low," what a change passes over the little world in which we dwell ! That friendship is indeed true and valuable which will stand such a testing-time ; for while many gather round us in prosperity, few cleave to us in adversity. " The friends who in our sunshine live, When winter comes are flown." It is a bitter trial to find ourselves neglected and forsaken when we are most in need of support and comfort ; but it is a sanctified trial if it teaches us that it is better to trust in the Lord than to put con- fidence in man; if it endears to us that heavenly Friend, who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 267 made rich. Lowly indeed was his lot on earth ; he had not where to lay his head ; and his chosen friends and associates were from the humblest ranks of so- ciety. It was to "the poor" that he especially pro- claimed the blessings of his gospel ; and the sarcastic designation of his opponents, which styled him " a friend of publicans and sinners," was, in reality, beautifully expressive of his true character. By his own position in the world, by his mingling chiefly with those who were poor and despised of men, and by the low and obscure situations in which the majority of his disciples have served him, poverty has been elevated and dignified. Not many noble, not many mighty, does the Saviour call; but he chooses the poor in this world, and makes them heirs of that glorious kingdom which he has promised to them that love him. The wealthy and the fashionable may grow cold and distant when penury and distress enter our home ; but Christ makes our season of affliction only the means of drawing us more closely to himself. Our loss of property or income, instead of raising a barrier between him and us, links us more firmly together. He soothes our spirit, sympathizes with our grief, and promises that he will never forsake us. Or it is possible that the natural infirmities of age 268 NEARING HOME. and a long- declining state of health may gradually narrow the circle of our friends. Deafness, or blind- ness, or sickness makes our society less attractive than formerly. It is wearisome, perhaps, to sit be- side us day after day and strive to interest us ; and, therefore, some who were once warm and even sin- cere in their professions of attachment to us, grow- tired of the society of an aged invalid, and their visits become few and far between. We feel some- times, when contrasting the present with the past, that we are forsaken and alone in the world, that we are a burden to ourselves and to others. Old age brings with it a sensitiveness on this point which occasions much mental disquietude, and frequently produces a fretful and repining spirit. Let us endeavour, in moments of loneliness and depression, to tranquilize and divert our thoughts by dwelling upon the steadfastness of Christ towards us. He does not cast us off in the time of old age nor forsake us when our strength fails; he is not weary of listening to the oft-repeated narrative of our wants and ailments, nor reluctant to cheer the solitude of life's evening ; but he beautifully fulfils to us his own promise, "Even to hoar hairs will I carry you." As we walk with trembling steps through the valley of the shadow of death, as we miss from THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 269 our side the friend on whose arm we might have leaned for support and protection ; the Saviour bids us fear no evil, because he is with us ; Ms rod and Ms staff will comfort us ; and Ms presence shall perpetu- ally abide with us. Our weakness and our infirmity may tend to loosen some of our earthly ties, but can- not diminish his kind sympathy with us. Friends may fail us, but he will never leave us. And even should our friends prove faithful, should they retain in old age the affection which they man- ifested towards us in youth, yet how suddenly and irrevocably may they be parted from us by death ! " Our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding." The dearest ones around whom our affections are so firmly entwined may soon be summoned into the presence of their Maker, and leave us to tread alone the remainder of our length- ened journey. We may have to see the grave opened for those whose hands we imagined would tenderly close our eyes at the last. Stay ! have we not already seen this? have not the separations of the tomb been painfully realized in our past history ? The green hillock, the marble tablet, are they not cherished me- morials of the departed, who still live in our hearts and are enshrined in our recollections ? More elo- quent than the preacher's words, more powerful than 270 . NEARING HOME. the written admonition, are the vacant seats in our households — yes, and at our firesides. Ah! the stern precept, " Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils ; for wherein is he to be accounted of?"* has received frequent and practical illustration in the events of bygone days. The tolling bell has mourn- fully reminded us that change and decay are stamped upon all the things of earth; the cypress tree has darkly shadowed forth the solemn truth that " In the midst of life we are in death, "f Well, be it so ; we will not murmur that God gathers the ripest fruit and the choicest flowers from our gardens, since he gives us himself as our portion. We will not forget, as we sorrow over the dead, that " the Lord liveth !" While thinking of the friends whom the last enemy has snatched from our grasp, we will gratefully re- member that Saviour from whom neither death nor the grave can part us. Around our desolated hearths, and in our solitary eventide, his voice is heard sweetly saying unto us, "Fear not; for I am with thee!" J Yes, Lord, thou art with us, our firm, our change- less, our undying Friend ! " Thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end."§ Death cannot divide * Isa. ii. 22. t Prayer Book. t Isa. xliii. 5. § Psa. cii. 27, THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 271 thee from thy people, for that vanquished foe hath no power over its almighty Conqueror ; and it cannot separate them from their Saviour, for its touch will only usher them into his immediate and visible pre- sence. ; ' There is no death ; what seems so, is transition. ' ' Oh, we are " persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to sepa- rate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."* Then let us comfort one another with this thought, Let the recollection of our indissoluble union with Christ, and of his eternal and unchanging affection for us, solace and refresh our spirits. " Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end."f Yes, neither external circumstances, nor the decay of nature, nor even continual infirmity and sinfulness, can alienate the heart of the Saviour from those whom he has chosen, and called, and blessed. Heaven and earth may pass away, but his word- that word which assures us of the freeness and per- petuity of his love — abideth for ever. Aged Christian ! dwell much on the character and * Rom. viii. 38, 39. t John xiii. 1. 272 NEARING HOME. conduct of this mighty and faithful Friend : " Cast- ing all your care upon him ; for he careth for you."* As life declines, let his preciousness increase ; as the associations of earth gradually lessen, cling more closely and confidingly to him. Think of him as preparing a place for you in the heavenly mansions, and as coming to receive you unto himself, that where he is there you may be also. And if, while now you see him not, you can rejoice in him with joy that is unspeakable and full of glory, what will be the rap- ture of your emancipated spirit when you are ad- mitted to full and uninterrupted communion with him ! If now, while you only behold him as through a glass darkly, he is in your apprehension the fairest among ten thousand and the altogether lovely, how will your admiration be increased when you behold him face to face ! If now, while you know him but in part, your acquaintance with him is the source of purest and inexpressible pleasure, who shall estimate the happiness and the delight which shall result from your knowing even as you are known ? * 1 Peter v. 7. fyt IWpat^g f ^ CSttS ' PAUL GERHARDT. I eest upon the ground Of Jesus and his blood, For 'tis through him that I have found The true Eternal good. Naught have I of my own, Naught in the life I lead ; What Christ hath given me, that alone Is worth all love indeed. His Spirit in me dwells, O'er all my mind he reigns, All care and sadness he dispels, And soothes away all pains. He prospers day by day His work within my heart, Till I have strength and faith to say, Thou, Grod, my Father art ! When weakness on me lies And tempts me to despair, 35 273 274 NEABING HOME. He speaketh words and utters sighs Of more than mortal prayer ; But what no tongue can tell, Thou, Grod, canst hear and see, Who readest in the heart full well If aught there pleaseth thee. He whispers in my breast Sweet words of holy cheer, How he who seeks in Grod his rest Shall ever find him near ; How God hath built above A city fair and new, "Where eye and heart shall see and prove What faith has counted true. There is prepared on high My heritage, my lot ; Though here on earth I fall and die, My heaven shall fail me not. Though here my days are dark, And oft my tears must rain, Whene'er my Saviour's light I mark, All things grow bright again. My heart for gladness springs, It cannot more be sad, THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS. 275 For every joy it laughs and sings, Sees naught but sunshine glad. The sun that glads mine eyes Is Christ the Lord I love ; I sing for joy of that which lies Stored up for us above. Wht jfrkttir mnstm. CHARLOTTE ELLIOT. Holy Savioitk, Friend unseen, The faint, the weak on thee may lean ; Help me, throughout life's varying scene, By faith to cling to thee ! Blest with communion so divine, Take what thou wilt ; shall I repine, When, as the branches to the vine, My soul may cling to thee ? Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, Here she has found a place of rest— An exile still, yet not unblest While she can cling to thee ! Without a murmur I dismiss My former dreams of earthly bliss ; My joy, my recompense be this, Each hour to cling to thee ! 276 THE FRIEND UNSEEN. 277 What though the world deceitful prove, And earthly friends and joys remove, With patient, uncomplaining love. Still would I cling to thee ! Oft when I seem to tread alone Some barren waste with thorns o'ergrown, A voice of love, in gentlest tone, Whispers, " Still cling to me." Though faith and hope a while be tried, I ask not, need not, aught beside ; How safe, how calm, how satisfied, The soul that clings to thee ! They fear not life's rough storms to brave, Since thou art near, and strong to save ; Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave, Because they cling to thee ! Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; What can disturb me, who appal, While as my Strength, my Bock, my All, Saviour, I cling to thee ? Iy; Nights when my wearied heart was full of fear, And Glod seemed farther off than stars and sky ; Yet then, when grief was nigh, My soul could sometimes cry, * From Hopefully Waiting, p. 73. 285 286 NEABING HOME. Out of the depths of sorrow and of sin, That at the worst I was but pilgrim here, With home beyond, while dwelling at an inn. Now I complain not of this life of mine, I less of shade have had than of the sun ; The gracious Father, with a hand divine, Has crowned with mercies his unworthy one; My cup has overrun, And I, his will undone, Have changed his countless blessings into sin ; As I forgot I was but pilgrim here, Homeless at best, and dwelling at an inn. Look on me, Lord ! Have I not need to pray That this fair world, that gives so much to me, Serve not to lead my steps so far astray That at the end I stand afar from thee ? Dear Lord, let this not be ;• Nay, rather let me see Beyond this life my happiest days begin ;s And singing on my way, a pilgrim here, Rejoice that I am dwelling at an inn. Dear Son of God ! by whom the world was made, Yet homeless, had not where to lay thy head, SOJOURNING AS AT AN INN. 287 (Not e'en by kindred was thy body laid In Joseph's tomb, thou Lord of quick and dead !) By thy example led, Of me may it be said, When I shall rest and perfect peace begin, He lived as one who was a pilgrim here, And found his home while dwelling at an inn. wo tm ©fir wsriple.* WILLIAM S. PLUMER, D. D. My heart is drawn towards you. I too am going down the hill of life, and the longer I live the more sympathy do I feel with the aged. I have no longer the sprightliness of youth. In common with you I know the sorrow caused by the failure of hopes. A light heart carries the young swiftly along, but in us, who have passed the middle of life, the spirit is at least chastened, if not somewhat broken. Once past middle life, we seldom forget our griefs as in youth. Indeed, the memory of some sorrows never grows dim. Twenty years after his child is thought to be dead, Jacob cries out, " Joseph is not," as if he had been missing but a day or a week. We too have lost friend after friend, not only by death, but by alienation. Very few of the friends of our childhood live to love us. One said: " I walk the streets, I go to the assemblies of my brethren, but I find none who began life with me. I stand alone like a with- * Tract No. 62, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 288 TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 289 ered tree, where once was a forest clothed with ver- dure." We may have our descendants around us, and "children's children are the crown of old men." But sometimes children give as much pain as pleas- ure. Or Grod may have written us childless. If so, how sad are our homes ! Or greedy heirs may be indecently hovering around to pounce upon our pelf as soon as we are gone. Nor care they how soon we are called away. How many of us, too, are cut off (sometimes by our own fault) from useful employ- ment! We lack occupation. The mind, not being- drawn out in healthy action, preys upon itself. Our latter years are often spent in melancholy useless- ness. Our senses are often blunted as we grow old. Sweet sounds and sweet odours and delicious flavours cannot now regale us as in our younger clays. To us the blue sky is no longer blue, and the green moun- tains are no longer green, and the voice of birds is no longer music. Great changes have come on. Times, manners, fashions, customs, habits, opinions, have all changed, nor have we changed with them. The world often seems to us to be moving too fast or too slowly, and we cry out, "What are we coming to?" One who had long served Grod and his generations, seeing how things were going, thus wrote : 37 290 NEABING HOME. " Prophet of ills, why should I live, Or by my sad forebodings grieve Whom I can serve no more ? I only can their loss bewail, Till life's exhausted sorrows fail, And the last pang is o'er." The pious aged have no deeper sorrows than those which spring from the memory of their sins. Job said, " Thou makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." David cried: " Remember not against me the sins of my youth." The late Dr. Moses Hoge, of blessed memory, said: " I feel great need of offer- ing the prayer of the old bishop, who said, ' God, pardon my sins of omission.' " He who in old age feels no need of sorrow for past sins is no child of God. Nor can we fail to see that our time on earth is short. A few more days and our career will be run. We must bid farewell to all we have ever known ; we must go to an untried eternity, and un- dergo the scrutiny of God. Each of us, too, has sor- rows unknown to men, and, so far as we know, pecu- liar to ourselves. We have not breathed them to any mortal, and perhaps we never shall, but the heart knoweth its own bitterness. Yet all is not sad in our state. We have memories of joys, of mercies, and of friends, which, though tinged with a brown shade, are dear to our hearts. TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 291 In general, too, we are treated with respect. Good men think with Solomon that " the hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteous- ness." The respect paid us is well suited to smooth our way. We have also stores of experience, which wealth could not buy. We have been taught the art of walking in darkness and having no light, and yet trusting in the Lord. We know that all is not lost which is brought into danger. We know better than the young disciple what is meant by such texts as these: "When I am weak, then I am strong;" "he that loseth his life, shall find it ;" " I have meat to eat, that ye know not of." A thousand good lessons of this sort has God taught us. We know, too, that in his providence, as in nature, the darkest hour is just before day. Why may it not be so with us, as our sky is more and more lowering? May not eternal day be ready to burst upon us ? Indeed, a thousand mercies still surround us. If our hearts are right, we cannot fail to see them. Let us often count them up. Will you permit one who is less than the least of all saints to give you a few words of counsel ? If the advice given is good, follow it ; if not good, re- ject it. 1. As long as you can, maintain habits of bod- 292 NEARING HOME. ily activity. If you cannot do much, do what you can. 2. Keep your mind employed. Many aged men review their youthful studies. President Edwards reviewed his Euclid every year. Some begin new studies late in life, as Dr. Scott and Dr. Bogue. Read something with care every day, or cause it to be read to you. The history of the aged is full of warnings against idleness of mind and laziness of body. Your physician and pastor can both give you many reasons in favour of activity. The average length of life among retired merchants, who have given up all business, is said not to exceed two or three years. If you live in idleness, life will soon be a burden. Beware ! 3. If you have property, retain exclusive control of enough to keep you from want. A dependent old age may be unavoidable, and, when it is, should be borne submissively. But it is a great trial. If men will treat you well without property, they will also if you have your own means. The reverse of this is not always true. 4. But beware of covetousness, that universal sin. "The love of money is the root of all evil." It is very apt to grow rapidly on the aged. Be ashamed to deny to those who have a right to expect TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 293 it, a share in your estate, when you can divide it. As far as you can, be your own almoner and executor. 5. Be always trying to clo good by word and deed, by precept and example. Encourage the timid, warn the reckless, visit the poor, support humane and mis- sionary institutions, teach the ignorant, be eyes to the blind and feet to the lame, make the widow's heart to sing for joy, and do whatever will bless men and honour Grocl. " JN T o man liveth to himself." "As you have opportunity, do good to all men." 6. Cultivate cheerfulness of temper. Try to be pleased with your lot and your generation. Be not a murmurer and complainer. A sour old man or woman is neither happy, nor useful, nor amiable. Remember, the birds sang, the lambs skipped, and the children laughed when you were young, and they always will do it. Find not fault needlessly. " Say not thou, What is the cause the former days were better than these ? for thou inquirest not wisely con- cerning this." Ever since Adam fell there have been wicked men and wicked deeds on earth. I ex- ceedingly like a common saying of a pious old Eng- lish bishop, " Serve God and be cheerful." 7. Yield not to tormenting despondency about the cause of Christ. The Church is safe. She is graven on the palms of her Redeemer's hands. The cause 294 NEABING HOME. of piety may decline in one place or at one time, but Christ's kingdom is gaining every year. The saints may lose a battle, but not the war. Christ loves the Church more than you do. " He shall not fail nor be discouraged till he have set judgment in the earth." " Hast thou not known ? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting Grod, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?" " No weapon formed against Zion shall prosper." " The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea, for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." Rest assured that Christ " shall see the travail of his soul and be satisfied." 8. Make yourself well acquainted with the pro- mises of God, especially those which have a peculiar pertinency to you. If you are a widow, hear him saying, " A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows is Grod in his holy habitation." " He relieveth the fatherless and widow." See the Con- cordance under the word "widow." Are you child- less? Thus saith the Lord unto the [childless] " that keep my Sabbaths, and choose the things that please me, and take hold of my covenant ; even unto them will I give in mine house and within my walls a place and a name better than of sons and daugh- ters : I will give them an everlasting name that shall TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 295 not be cut off." Are you poor? The promise is: " Thy bread and thy water are sure." " A little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked." Are you wearied in the greatness of your way ? " They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength." " The feeble among them shall be as David." And how was David ? Though a stripling, he slew a bear and a lion, and the giant of Gath. Whatever be your condition or fears, here are the promises to all the aged pious : " They shall bring forth fruit in old age." " Even to your old age I am He, and even to hoar hairs I will carry you : I have made, and I will bear, even I will carry you and deliver you." " What more could he say than to you he has said?" Therefore set your hope and put your trust in God. Embrace the promises. They can never fail to those who rest upon them. Nothing but unbelief can an- nihilate them. Take firm hold of them, and your last days shall be your best days, and as the outward man waxes weaker the inward man shall be renewed day by day, and God himself shall be your God. " It is one of the best sights to see silver hairs adorned with golden virtues," yea, with graces more precious than gold. Have faith in God. Hope to the end. 296 NEARING HOME. 9. Study to acquire and maintain clear views of the riches and freeness of Christ. He is a Prophet. " Learn of him." He is a Priest. Rely on his great sacrifice and intercession. His intercession is as precious as his blood. If you wish an assurance that you shall never fall into condemnation, here it is: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Christ is a King. His " throne is for ever and ever." He has all power in heaven and in earth. He is the vine, ye are the branches. Because he lives you shall live also. He is the good Shepherd, and none is able to pluck his sheep out of his hand, nor his lambs out of his bosom. He is God, and therefore counts it not robbery to be equal with God. He is man, and therefore he is not ashamed to call us brethren. He was dead, and so he made expiation. He is alive for evermore, and so we shall never perish. If sin calls for a curse, the death of Christ calls louder for pardon. If he is the Author of our faith, he is also its Finisher. Study his character and work. You cannot know too much of him. He is the desire of all nations, the delight of the sons of men, God over all, blessed for ever. 10. Endeavour to glorify God in all your sorrows, TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 297 and especially in your death. If your children give you grief, say as David in his old age : " Though my house be not so with God [as I could wish], yet hath he made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure." If your children are cut down in a way that makes you tremble for their souls, say as Eli : "It is the Lord ; let him do what seemeth him good." If men revile you, say as the royal Psalmist: "Let him curse. .It may be God will look upon mine affliction and reward me good for this cursing." If you be under any affliction which is common to men, why should you think it strange ? " Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil" also ? If you can say nothing to the praise of Gocl in your afflic- tions, at least be " dumb and open not your mouth." If your afflictions be strange, so were Christ's. "He was tempted in all points as we are, yet without sin." " If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him." By quietness and patience in affliction you will be prepared to honour Gocl in your death. It is as much a duty to glorify God in death as in life. We may, by his grace, do more in an hour at death than we have done in years before. Samson's greatest achievement against the enemies of God and of his Church was in his death. Our last battle is com- 38 298 NEABING HOME. monly our greatest. Happy is he who is able to shout and sing, "0 death, where is thy victory?" " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord." There is something very remarkable in the fact that the aged seldom fall into so great a decay of their faculties as to forget those things which have most engaged their affections. Nearly two thousand years ago, Cicero (in his treatise concerning old age) said that he had never heard of a miser's memory so far failing him that he forgot where his treasure was hid. He loved that most, and he remembered it longest. I have seen a pious man who was said to be one hundred and six years old. All his faculties were greatly impaired. His memory was so far gone that he could no more learn any man's name. Yet he could repeat many of Watts' hymns, and give an intelligible account of the w r ay of life. It is said that Bishop Beveridge in his old age, being near death, was visited by some of his old friends, who, by turns, took his hand and said, " Bishop Beveridge, do you know me?" His answer was, "No." His wife asked the same question, and re- ceived the same answer. At length one said, "Bishop Beveridge, do you know Jesus Christ?" "Yes, oh yes," said he ; "I shall never forget him. When sinking in despair under the load of my sins, Jesus TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 299 Christ showed me mercy and saved me. And he has been with me ever since." Polycarp suffered martyrdom at Smyrna in the year of our Lord 166, aged ninety-five years. The historian says that when he appeared before the proconsul, the latter said to him, " Swear, curse Christ, and I will set you free !" The old man an- swered, " Eighty-and-six years have I received only good at his hands. Can I then curse my King and Saviour?" When the proconsul continued to press him, Polycarp said, "Well, then, if you desire to know who I am, I tell thee freely, I am a Christian I If you desire to know what Christianity is, appoint an hour and hear me." The proconsul, who here showed that he would gladly have saved him if he could silence the people, said to Polycarp, " Only persuade the people." He replied, "To you I felt myself bound to render an account, for our religion teaches us to treat the powers ordained by Grod with becoming reverence, as far as is consistent with our salvation. But as for those without, I consider them undeserving any defence from me." And justly, too ! for what would it have been but throwing pearls before swine, to attempt to speak of the gospel to a wild, tumultuous, and fanatical mob ? After the governor had in vain threatened him with 300 NEABINQ HOME. the wild beasts and the fire, he made the herald pub- licly announce in the circus that Polycarp had con- fessed himself a Christian. These words contained the sentence of death against him. The people in- stantly cried out, " This is the teacher of Asia, the father of the Christians, the enemy of the gods, who has taught so many not to pray to the gods and not to sacrifice." As soon as the proconsul had complied with the demand of the populace, that Polycarp should perish on the funeral pile, Jews and Gentiles hastened with the utmost eagerness to collect the wood from the workshops and the baths. When they wished to fasten him with nails to the pile, the old man said, " Leave me thus, I pray, unfastened. He who has enabled me to abide the fire will give me strength also to remain firm on the stake." Before the fire was lighted he prayed thus : "0 Lord, Almighty God ! the Father of thy beloved Son, Jesus Christ, through whom we have received the knowledge of thee ! God of the angels, and of the whole creation ; of the whole human race, and of the saints who live in thy presence ! I thank thee that thou hast thought me worthy of this day, and this hour, to share the cup of thy Christ among the number of thy witnesses!" TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 301 Thus praying, the flame was kindled, and he went to heaven as it were in a chariot of fire. Thus God fulfils the promises : " Even to your old age I am he, and even to hoar hairs I will carry you." " I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Aged disciple, can you not trust him ? Is he not worthy ? May you not say, " I will not fear what man can do unto me;" "All the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change come ;" " Lord, what thou wilt, when thou wilt, and how thou wilt ;" "I know no will but thine;" "The Lord is my portion;" " Jesus, my Lord and my God, to thee I commit my spirit in life, in death, and for ever." ©nig Watting. ANONYMOUS. A very aged Christian, who was so poor as to be in an almshouse, was asked what he was doing now. He replied, " Only waiting." Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown ; Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last gleam is flown ; Till the night of earth is faded From the heart once full of day ; Till the stars of heaven are breaking Through the twilight soft and gray. Only waiting till the reapers Have the last sheaf gathered home ; For the summer-time is faded, And the autumn winds have come. Quickly, reapers, gather quickly The last ripe hours of my heart, For the bloom of life is withered, And I hasten to depart, 302 ONLY WAITING. 303 Only waiting till the angels Open wide the mystic gate, At whose feet I long have lingered, Weary, poor, and desolate. Even now I hear the footsteps, And their voices, far away; If they call me, I am waiting, Only waiting to obey. Only waiting till the shadows Are a little longer grown ; Only waiting till the glimmer Of the day's last gleam is flown ; Then from out the gathering darkness Holy, deathless stars shall rise, By whose light my soul shall gladly Tread its pathway to the skies. ;riettir after Jfrknir fktfutis. JAMES MONTGOMERY. Friend after friend departs ; Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime Where life is not a breath, Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upward to expire. There is a world above, Where parting is unknown— A whole eternity of love, Formed for the good alone ; And faith beholds the dying here Translated to that happier sphere. 304 FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS. 305 Thus star by star declines, Till all are passed away, — As morning high and higher shines To pure and perfect day : JSTor sink those stars in empty night ; They hide themselves in heaven's own light. 39 0rirs in i|*a:s0tt. ANONYMOUS. " Cast me not off in the time of old age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth" Psa. lxxi. 9. Aged believer ! you feel your dependence upon God for support and succour. If lie should forsake you, if he should cast you off, you would indeed be helpless and hopeless. But you rejoice in the assu- rance that this can never be realized. You know that he will never leave you to bear up alone the pressure of your trials and infirmities ; that he will never relax the grasp which enfolds you in his love. And therefore your prayer is rather the expression of confidence than the apprehension of fear. You ask for that which he has promised, which you are certain he will grant — the continuance of his gracious aid. In youthful days, it may be, in healthful hours, you found that without him you were weak and un- protected ; and now in the time of old age, when your strength faileth, you are more deeply conscious of your need of his help. Well, ask and you shall 306 WORDS IN SEASON. 307 receive ; cast your burden, cast yourself upon him, and he will sustain you. Fear not, for he is with you ; be not dismayed, for he is your God ; he will strengthen you ; yea, he will help you ; yea, he will uphold you with the right hand of his righteous- ness.* These things will he do unto you, and will never forsake you. "Why should I doubt his love at last, With anxious thoughts perplexed? Who saved me in the troubles past Will save me in the next. Will save — till at my latest hour, With more than conquest blest, I soar beyond temptation's power, And enter into rest." " Thou hast taught me from my youth: and hitherto have I declared thy wondrous ivories. Now also when I am old and gray -headed, God, forsake me not" Psa. lxxi. 17, 18. " Thou hast taught me from my youth." How encouraging it is to look back to our early life, and recognize the goodness of God in its varied events ! He was our Guide, our Instructor, our Father. He restrained us from evil ; counselled us in difficulty ; directed us in uncertainty; preserved us through * Isa. xli. 10. 308 NEARING HOME. danger. All the knowledge which we have gained of his character, of his will, of ourselves, of futurity, he has communicated to us. And how gradual, how wise, how gentle are his teachings ! How patiently has he borne with our ignorance and forgetfulness ! how tenderly has he imparted his most difficult les- sons ! And though we have been dull and wayward scholars, though we have not profited as we might have done by his Divine instructions, yet we know, if we are disciples of Christ, that we have so learned of him as to find rest unto our souls. We have learned to rely upon his strength, to depend upon his faithfulness, to trust in his righteousness. " And hitherto have I declared thy wondrous works." Grateful for his favours towards us, we have striven to live to his praise and show forth his glory. It has been our aim to communicate to others the knowledge which we have received. We have spoken of his goodness to those around us. We have not been ashamed of his gospel, nor indifferent to his honour. " Wow also when I am old and gray-headed, God, forsake me not." " Those who have been taught of God from their youth, and have made it the business of their lives to serve and honour him, may be sure that he will not leave them when they are old and WORDS IN SEASON. 309 gray-headed: lie is not a Master that is wont to cast off old servants." "In early years thou wast my guide, And of my youth the friend ; And as my days began with thee, With thee my days shall end. ' ' " And even to your old age I am He ; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you" Isa. xlvi. 4. Ah, Christian, here is ground for your confidence in God. You have his promise that he will be with you in your old age, to support you under its infir- mities, and therefore you are cheerful and tranquil. Listen to the testimony of an aged pilgrim : " What a comfort it is, as we get old and feeble, and friends drop off one after another, to remember that our God does not change ! He says to us, ' I am he ;' the same that I ever was ; 'I am he ;' the Lord who pre- served and guided you from your infancy ; * I am he :' all that I have promised to be to you, all that you can possibly need. ' And even to hoar hairs will I carry you.' What tender and expressive language ! How can we help trusting in such a mighty and lov- ing Friend ? Whether we look at the present or the future, there is no room for fear. Those who can walk have his rod and staff to help and comfort them ; and those who cannot walk find that his ever- 310 NEARING HOME. lasting arms are beneath them, and that they are borne safely onwards. We are like children, who, when they are weak and tired, are carried in a father's arms, and lifted over difficulty and danger." "Fear not, I am with thee ; oh, be not dismayed f I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid ; I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand. E'en down to old age all my people shall prove My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love ; And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, In the arms of my mercy they still shall be borne.' ' " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness.'''' Prov. xvi. 31. Old age is honourable, and commands respect. " Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and hon- our the face of the old man."* But we cannot ex- pect to receive true and lasting deference from others unless our character is calculated to win their esteem. Superiority in age should be combined with supe- riority in excellence. Multitude of years should teach wisdom. " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if" — mark that — " if it be found in the way of right- eousness." If it be found in the way of wickedness, its honour is forfeited, its crown profaned and laid in * Lev. xix. 32. WOWS IN SEASON. 311 the dust. How is it with you, reader ? Are you sanctified through faith in Christ? are you " walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless ?"* Oh, how lovely and dignified is old age when marked by piety and consistency ! ' l When piety adorns declining years, The hoaiy head a glorious crown appears ; A dignity no earthly rank bestows Marks the believer then ; and sweet repose Is stamped upon his features ; all who gaze Revere his person, and his virtues praise." " Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enter eth into that within the veil" Heb. vi. 19. A vessel was driving ashore. Her anchors were gone, and she refused to obey the helm. A few mo- ments more and she would strike. If any should be saved, they must be tossed by the waves on the beach. In the midst of the general consternation there was one person quite calm. He had done all that a man could do to prepare for the worst when the wreck was inevitable ; and now that death was apparently near he was quietly waiting the event. A friend of his asked the reason of his calmness in the midst of danger so imminent : * Luke i. 6. 312 NEABING HOME. " Do you not know that the anchor is gone, and we are drifting upon the coast ?" " Certainly I do ; but I have an anchor to the soul." On this was his trust. It entered into that within the veil. It was the ground of his confidence in the storm, and enabled him to ride securely in the view of instant and awful death. Have you this anchor, reader? Is the hope of the gospel yours ? Amidst the storms and trials of life, and in the prospect of danger and death, are you calm and trustful, assured that you will soon be admitted into the haven of everlasting peace ? Or are you destitute of this hope ? Without it, how can you be happy ? Without it, what will you do in the swellings of Jordan ? It may be yours — yours even now — if you will seek it, if you will ac- cept it. The gift of God is eternal life. Confidence in "him — faith in Christ — will link your tempest- tossed, troubled, and perishing spirit with perpetual repose and security — with the unseen glories of heaven. "How still, amidst commotion, The bark at anchor cast! Around her heaves the ocean, The anchor holds her fast. WORDS IN SEASON. 313 So hope, an anchor of the soul, How steadfast, to the saint is given : Though waves of trouble round him roll, His hope is fixed in heaven." " They shall still bring forth fruit in old age" Psa. xcii. 14. The palm tree, to which God's people are in this psalm compared, is remarkable for its lengthened and increasing fruitfulness. The best dates are said to be gathered when it has reached a hundred years. How beautiful an emblem of the aged believer, growing in grace and maturing in holiness to the close of his earthly existence ! Each day, each year, added to his life, adds to the loveliness and perfection of his Chris- tian virtues. His character has a mellowness and sweetness which it lacked in earlier seasons. He is ripening for heaven. In knowledge, in wisdom, in love, in humility, in gentleness, in forbearance, in peace, in usefulness, in happiness, he is steadily and constantly advancing. He is filled with the Spirit, and therefore brings forth the fruits of the Spirit. Is this portraiture of an aged Christian yours, reader ? Alas, it does not belong to all who profess and call themselves by the Saviour's name. Nay, it may be feared that there are some, really and mani- festly his, to whom it bears but little resemblance. 40 314 NEABING HOME. They have long been "planted" in the house of the Lord, but they do not appear to " flourish" in the courts of our God ; and as years augment they seem to imagine that the infirmities of age are excuses for their little fruitfulness. But they certainly never gathered such an idea from God's word, nor rightly studied and pleaded his promises to themselves. Follow not their example. Rest not satisfied with past attainments. Strive to glorify God more than you have ever yet done. Let your last days be your best days ; your latest fruit, the richest. " And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all judgment; that ye may ap- prove things that are excellent ; that ye may be sin- cere and without offence till the day of Christ ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God."* " How beautiful to see The clustered fruit upon the bending tree ! Yet lovelier still the graces which adorn The soul that's heaven-born. And age does not diminish, but increase The precious fruits of love, and joy, and peace, And gentleness, and patience ; at life's close Each Christian virtue more luxuriant grows." * Phil. i. 9-11. WORDS IN SEASON. 315 " My times are in thy hand." Psa. xxxi. 15. Then I am sure that they will be wisely ordered. Thou hast all power in heaven and in earth ; thou art acquainted with the end from the beginning ; everything is subject to thy control, and the future to thee is as the present ; therefore there can be no mistake in thy purposes — no imperfection in thy plans. " My times are in thy hand" Then I will not be anxious nor distressed about the future. Varied may be the times which I have yet to experience — times of sorrow or joy ; of poverty or plenty ; of sickness or health ; of life or death ; but I can calmly leave them to thy disposal. I cannot foresee the events which thy providence appoints, but I can wait and trust. The period and the manner of my departure hence are unknown to me, but I am free from all solicitude on these points, because thou hast arranged them for the best. "My times are in thy hand; the night, the day, The moon's pale glimmering, and the sunny ray Are thine ; and thine the midnight of the grave. Oh, be thou there to strengthen and to save — To light death's valley with thy beam of love, And smile a welcome to thy throne above. ' ' "Bless the Lord, my soul: and all that is within 316 NEARING HOME. me, bless Ms holy name : Bless the Lord, my soul; and forget not all his benefits." Psa. ciii. 1, 2. How animating is the sight of an aged Christian, who is rejoicing in hope of the glory of God, and furnishing, by daily conduct, a bright example to others of cheerfulness and gratitude ! His life is a psalm of thanksgiving ; his happy look and thankful spirit fill his home with sunshine, and cast their radiance on all around him. It is impossible to be long in his society without feeling gladdened and invigorated by it. You can scarcely tell why, but you feel less disposed to complain, and more in- clined to rejoice, than you did before. Your own path seems to grow more hopeful and promising; you are reminded of mercies which you had hitherto forgotten ; and the troubles which you thought so heavy insensibly grow lighter. The fact is, that for a time at least you have caught his spirit and im- bibed his tone of mind. A lovely instance of real and sustained cheerful- ness was the late justly celebrated William Wilber- force. "A stranger might have noticed that he was more uniformly cheerful than most men of his time of life. Closer observation showed a vein of Chris- tian feeling, mingling with and purifying the natural flow of a most happy temper ; whilst those who lived WORDS IN SEASON. 317 most continually with him could trace distinctly in his tempered sorrows, and sustained and almost childlike gladness of heart, the continual presence of that peace which the world can neither give nor take away. The pages of his later journal are full of bursts of joy and thankfulness ; and with his children and his chosen friends his full heart swelled out ever in the same blessed strains; he seemed too happy not to express his happiness ; his song was ever of the loving-kindness of the Lord." Every- thing became with him a cause for thanksgiving. When some of the infirmities of years began to press upon him, " What thanks do I owe to God," was his reflection, " that my declining strength ap- pears likely not to be attended with painful diseases, but rather to lessen gradually and by moderate de- grees ! How good a friend God is to me ! When I have any complaint, it is always so mitigated and softened as to give me scarcely any pain. 'Bless the Lord, my soul.' What thanks do I owe to my gracious and kind heavenly Father !" And so, when one of his friends had passed through a painful operation, " Seldom," he says, " have I felt anything so deeply. How thankful should I be to be spared such trials, my strength not being equal to them ! I humbly commit myself unto Him who surely has 318 NEABING HOME. given me reason to say, ' G-oodness and mercy have followed me all my days.' " Aged Christian, do you sympathize with these feelings? do you share this thankfulness? do you manifest this gladness ? " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace."* Every allowance must be made for natural temperament. Some persons are natu- rally sanguine and cheerful; others are naturally gloomy and desponding. But, in either case, the promises of the gospel, if simply believed and heartily appropriated, cannot fail to gladden the heart and influence the conduct. And it is no less our duty than our privilege to "rejoice in the Lord alway;" to "show forth his loving-kindness in the morning, and his faithfulness every night ;" to " be thankful unto him, and bless his name."* We must cultivate this joyous and grateful frame of mind ; we must strive by meditation, practice, and prayer to acquire or to strengthen it ; for we ought no more to dishonour Grod by our unhappiness and unthankful- ness than by our unholiness. The weakness and the infirmities of old age some- times tend to depress our spirits and dim our hopes. Therefore let us be upon our guard ; and instead of giving way to discontent and despondency, let us * G-al. v. 22. t Psa. xcii. 2; c. 4. WORDS IN SEASON. 319 count up our mercies, and look more steadfastly on the bright side of things ; and as often as we do this sadness will be chased from our brow, and the self- exhortation to praise will burst from our lips : " Bless the Lord, my soul : and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, my soul, and for- get not all his benefits." ' ' Farewell to sadness, Let every tear depart ; "Wake all to gladness, Wake, my heart ! Shall worldly triflers raise the song O'er pleasures they must lose ere long? And shall not those rejoice and sing Who love the heavenly King ? Let saints on earth unite their voice With saints that round the throne rejoice ; And here begin the song that through Eternal years is new.'' u Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. 11 2 Cor. iv. 16. " We must, of necessity," says a celebrated writer, " become better or worse as we advance in years. Unless we endeavour to spiritualize ourselves, and supplicate in this endeavour for that grace which is never withheld when it is sincerely and earnestly sought, age bodylizes us more and more, and the older 320 NEARING HOME. we grow the more are we imbruted and debased ; — so manifestly is the text verified which warns us that, 4 Unto every one which hath shall be given ; and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall be taken away.'* In some the soul seems gradually to be absorbed and extinguished in its crust of clay ; in others, as if it purified and sublimed the vehicle to which it was united. Nothing therefore is more beautiful than a wise and religious old age ; nothing so pitiable as the latter stages of mortal existence, when the world, and the flesh, and that false philos- ophy which is of the devil, have secured the victory for the grave." Aged Christian, thank Grod for the strengthening and invigorating grace which he imparts to you. Your earthly frame is weak and enfeebled; it has lost its vigour and elasticity ; it is harassed with pain and infirmity; it must soon die. But while your body decays your soul thrives. If the one is pre- paring for the grave, the other is ripening for glory. Your faith grows firmer, your hope stronger, your love deeper, your views clearer. The soul's poor cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks which time hath made. "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, * Luke xix. 26. WORDS IN SEASON. 321 worJcetli for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. 11 2 Cor. iv. 17. " In visiting," writes a clergyman, " a poor man who has been bed-ridden these twenty-five years, I was preparing to pity him, but he called on me to rejoice. "Are you not wearied out with the length of your afflictions?" "Wearied, sir!" said he; " no> nature will soon faint, but God sustains me. I could lie here for another twenty-five years, if it pleased Grod. I have found this bed to be the very gate of heaven. Length of my affliction, sir! Oh, let me not call it long : it is short, very short, and will soon be over. These light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work for me a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Is not Glod all love ? He cannot then be unkind. Is he not all wise? He cannot then do wrong. Are not his promises yea and amen in Christ Jesus ? He cannot then break his word. None who have trusted him have repented of it. Oh, sir, I dare not complain. My affliction is a mercy." Troubled and afflicted Christian, remember, the troubles of earth will enhance the joys of heaven. And, compared with that weight of glory which is prepared for you above, are not your sorrows light ? Measured by the eternity of the happiness you an- 41 322 NEABING HOME. ticipate, is not their duration that of a moment? Murmur not at the present; think of the future. How striking the contrast! how glorious the change! "The gloom of the night adds a charm to the morn ; Stern winter the spring-time endears ; And the darker the clouds on which it is drawn, The brighter the rainbow appears ; So trials and sorrows the Christian prepare For the rest that remaineth above ; On earth tribulation awaits him, but there The smile of unchangeable love." "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. 11 John vi. 37. During his last hours a highly distinguished writer called for his chaplain and said, " Though I have en- deavoured to avoid sin and please God to the utmost of my power, yet I am still afraid to die." " My lord," said the chaplain, "you have forgotten that Jesus Christ is a Saviour." "True," was the answer; "but how shall I know that he is a Saviour for me? 1 " It is written, my lord, ' Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.' " " Yes, it is I" was the quick reply ; " and I am sur- prised that though I have read that Scripture a thou- sand times over, I never felt its virtue till this mo- ment ; and now I die happy." WORDS IN SEASON. 323 Reader, are you coming to the Saviour? Then this promise is yours. "Jesus, the sinner's friend, to thee, Lost and undone, for aid I flee ; Ah, wherefore did I ever doubt ? Thou wilt in no wise cast me out. ' ' " When a few years are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not return." Job xvi. 22. An approaching journey lies before me. I have to pass from time to eternity ; from this world to the next. And the time of my departure, although to me uncertain, cannot be very far distant. A few years — perhaps a few days — will close my stay on earth. It is an unavoidable journey. I must go. There is no choice. Willing or unwilling, when the sum- mons for me arrives, I shall have to set off. It is an unknown journey. I have never taken it before. I have no practical acquaintance with the road, the mode of transit, the dangers or the discom- forts which await me. And there is no one who can clearly explain them to me. Those of my friends who have travelled that way have never come back to relate their experience. It is a solitary journey. I must accomplish it alone. The most loved of my present companions 324 NEARING HOME. cannot accompany me. They may think of me, feel for me, pray for me, but they cannot be with me. We must separate ; they to remain behind, I to go forward. It is a momentous journey. For at its termination I enter upon my everlasting destiny. It will convey me either to the mansions of happiness or to the abodes of misery. The narrow boundary between the present and the future state once crossed, there will be no possibility of change. " He that is unjust, let him be unjust still ; and he that is righteous, let him be righteous still." Rev. xxii. 11. It is a final journey. I shall go the way whence I shall not return. My pilgrimage will be for ever ended. No more parting, no more change, no more toil, no more fatigue. It will be my last journey. And if I am a Christian how welcome is this fact ! I shall have done for ever with sin and sorrow. Eternal felicity will be mine — perfect holiness, per- fect happiness. This journey leads me to my home, to my father's house, to my everlasting rest. Then I will not shrink from its approach, nor com- plain of its accompaniments. It may be linked with much that is painful and unpleasant, but it is the only way home ; and therefore, although life has many ties and many joys, I feel an earnest desire to depart WORDS IN SEASON. 325 and be with Christ, which is far better than being here. Death is a solemn journey, but it is a safe one to Christ's people ; for he will not only receive and wel- come them at its close, but he will be them as they are passing through it. Oh, it will not be lonely with him ! And he is a guide who is well acquainted with the way, for he has trodden it himself, and the marks of his footsteps are visible there still. He went for the purpose of smoothing its difficulties, clearing its dangers, dispersing its terrors ; and he fully accomplished his purpose : " That through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil ; and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage."* Therefore when I walk through the dark valley, I will fear no evil ; for thou, Jesus, wilt be with me, and thy rod and thy staff shall comfort me. " The spirit shall return unto God who gave it. 11 Eccles. xii. 7. Not to a stranger, not to an unknown, untried master ; but to Him who has preserved and watched over it from year to year ; to him who knows its struggles, its anxieties, its throbbings of hope and fear; to its own Glod, even the "Grod who gave it;" * Heb. ii. 14, 15. 326 NEABING HOME. nay, more, who gave for it his only and well-beloved Son. Therefore, Christian reader, you need not fear to depart. Does the child dread to return home, to go back to its loving parents ? Oh, happy moment ! when you shall be admitted into your heavenly Fa- ther's presence, and shall share in those pleasures which are at his right hand for evermore! "Away, thou dying saint, away! Fly to the mansions of the blest ; Thy God no more requires thy stay; He calls thee to eternal rest. "Thy toils, at length, have reached a close; No more remains for thee to do ; Away, away to thy repose, Beyond the reach of sin and woe. "Away to yonder realms of light, Where multitudes redeemed with blood Enjoy the beatific sight, And dwell for ever with their God." mfct jpristian's %Mo$t* FROM THE GERMAN, Deae Saviour, when I here am blest With prospect of that future rest Thy people shall inherit, And there, by faith, see my abode ; — How light my cares ! — and all their load — How easy 'tis to bear it ! Then, too, the fond pursuits of earth Are in my view as nothing worth ; — Chased by the dawn of endless day, Its glories pass like dreams away. Lord Jesus Christ, sure ground of faith, All this is owing to thy death. When called the change of worlds to make My soul shall from its fetters break — Thou, from on high, be near me ! Thy rod and staff be then my stay — Through Death's dark valley guide my way,- With hopes of glory cheer me ! * Translated by Dr. Mills. 327 328 NEARING HOME. The splendours of the world of light, Amid the all-surrounding night, Shall through the clouds of darkness shine, Revealing what shall soon be mine. Lord Jesus Christ, with cheerful faith, I then shall sweetly sleep in death. But should my heart, reluctant, shrink, The cup of Death still fear to drink, My sins begin to number ; Then come the thought — "My Lord has died, My sins — atoning blood shall hide, Nor Grod will more remember !" The hope, for sinners thou hast wrought, Of life, — with nameless sorrows bought, Which, Grod-forsaken, thou didst meet, — . 'Tis this alone makes dying sweet. Lord Jesus Christ, my only faith, Do not forsake me at my death ! In hope my weeping eyes I'll close, My flesh in earth shall find repose, Where my Redeemer rested : And he that died, from death to save, — His voice will call me from the grave, — I know whom I have trusted. THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE. 329 He lives ! — and foes I feared below, — The Grave and Death — his power shall know ; He lives ! — and I, with saints above, Shall know the wonders of his love. Lord Jesus Christ, my spirit's faith, For life prepare me by my death ! My confidence shalt thou remain Till thou on earth appear again — The tombs be rent asunder : Before thy throne I there shall be, The Judge of all the nations see — Shall see with joy and wonder. Then will thy grace to me divide A portion always to abide, And I shall share, by promise shown, A glory lasting as thy own. Thanks, Lord, to thee ! — with shouts I'll sing, "Where, Grave, thy victory? — Death, thy sting?" 42 PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. While on the verge of life I stand, And view the scenes on either hand, My spirit struggles with its clay, And longs to wing its flight away. Where Jesus dwells my soul would be, It faints my much-loved Lord to see ; Earth, twine no more about my heart, For 'tis far better to depart. Come, ye angelic envoys, come, And lead the willing pilgrim home ; Ye know the way to Jesus' throne, Source of my joys and of your own. That blessed interview how sweet, To fall transported at his feet ; Raised in his arms, to view his face, Through the full beamings of his grace. 330 THE VERGE OF LIFE. 331 To see heaven's shining courtiers round, Each with immortal glories crowned ; And, while his form in each I trace, Beloved and loving all to embrace. As with a seraph's voice to sing : To fly as on a cherub's wing ; Performing, with unwearied hands, A present Saviour's high commands ! Yet, with these prospects full in sight, I'll wait thy signal for my flight ; For, while thy service I pursue, I find my heaven begun below. 332 HORATIUS BONAR. D. D. No shadows yonder ! All light and song ; Each day I wonder, And say how long Shall time me sunder From that dear throng ? No weeping yonder ! All fled away ; While here I wander Each weary day, And sigh as I ponder, My long, long stay. No partings yonder ! Time and space never Again shall sunder ; Hearts cannot sever ; Dearer and fonder, Hands clasp for ever. YONDER. 333 None wanting, yonder ! Bought by the Lamb ! All gathered under The evergreen palm ; Loud as night's thunder Ascends the glad psalm. m fflb to Ije f|s*fitl. ANONYMOUS. " Well, it is a pleasant sight to see young people actively engaged in doing good !" said an old lady, as she watched from her parlour window some of her grand-children setting forth on their weekly errands of mercy to the poor and afflicted. Yes ; it was a pleasant sight to look upon these youthful Christians, full of health and energy, devot- ing their time and their talents to the service of God and the welfare of their fellow-creatures ; and yet the old lady sighed as she finished her sentence, and did not seem quite comfortable. Why ? Listen to what she is saying now : "Ah, I was once as busy as any of them. I could take a class in the Sunday-school, and visit the poor, and collect for the missionary society ; but now I am forced to be idle and useless. My strength and my senses are gradually forsaking me ; and I am but a worn-out and unprofitable servant. But come, I must not complain ; I have had my share in these 334 TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 335 good works in bygone days, and I must be content to lie by now and let others labour ; for I am too old to be of any use." Was the old lady right? She meant what she said, and she meant well. She was trying to bear with patience and resignation her unavoidable exclu- sion from- the charitable engagements of her young- relatives ; but old people as well as young sometimes have mistaken ideas ; and it is possible that the old lady was not quite so clear upon the subject of Chris- tian usefulness as we should like our readers to be. It is true that the aged cannot work in Grod's vine- yard as they used to do before infirmity or ill-health disabled them for active service, but still they are not too old to be useful. Too old to be useful ! Such words are a libel upon their characters — an insult to their capabilities. It cannot be that any Christian is continued upon earth who has not something to do as well as to suf- fer for his Master. Look at the closing days of the venerable Eliot, the first missionary to the American Indians. On the clay of his death, when in his eightieth year, he was found teaching the alphabet to an Indian child at his bedside. "Why not rest from your labours, now?" said a friend. "Because," said the venerable man, " I have prayed to God to make 336 NEABING HOME. me useful in my sphere, and he has heard my prayer; for now, that I can no longer preach, he leaves me strength enough to teach this poor child this alphabet." Eighty years of age and bed-ridden ! Who after this can plead their inability to do good ? Who will not rather gather up their remaining time and talents and devote them to God's service? Like the widow's mite, your offering may seem poor and small ; you are almost ashamed to cast it into the treasury ; but bring it without hesitation — nay with gladness. What could give you more ? it is your all ; and your feeble efforts will meet with kind and gracious acknow- ledgment from a loving Saviour, who said, "She hath done what she could !"* Oh, it is so delightful to labour for Christ that the true-hearted Christian would fain keep on as Eliot did to the last. The late Rev. John Campbell, of Kingsland, went one morning to attend an early committee meeting of a religious society. On his way up-stairs he found an old friend, remarkable for his devotedness to the cause of Christ, leaning on the balustrade which led to the room, and unable to proceed from a difficulty of breathing. "What! are you here, Mr. T ? How could * Mark xiv. 8. TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 337 you venture in your state of health? You have attended our meetings for a long time, and you should now leave the work for younger men." His friend looked up with a cheerful smile, and replied, with characteristic energy, " Oh, Johnny, Johnny, man, it is hard to give up working in the service of such a Master." How cheering then is the thought that the aged have still opportunities of usefulness afforded them !' Suppose we remind our readers of a few ways in which they have it in their power to benefit others. Well, some of you, perhaps, who cannot walk about and visit your neighbours, might send them a little tract and book occasionally. A person dies in your street — a child is born in the next house — a worldly family opposite are in trouble — a gentleman has met with an accident — a grocer's shop is open on the Sunday ; — all these, and many others, are occa- sions when "a little messenger of mercy" might speak " a word in season." Listen to the following- fact: A man who was keeper of one of the locks on the Grand Junction Canal lived for many years appa- rently without any religious feelings. He possessed much personal kindness, and had been the means of saving at least twelve persons from a watery grave, 43 338 NEARING HOME. some of whom had plunged into the stream in sea- sons of frantic sorrow. In the summer of 1841 poor Matthew met with a severe accident, and was removed to the London Hospital. After he had been there a few days, he received a letter by post — of which the following is a copy — enclosing a tract .entitled "To-day:" -" You have suffered greatly, my friend ; your poor body calls for help and sympathy, and in the hos- pitdi you are mercifully attended to, as you could not be at home. How is it with your precious soul? Are you fit to die ? Had your sufferings caused in- stant death, where would your soul have been? Where, my friend ? Where ? In heaven, or in hell? Do think of this inquiry, and read the tract I en- close, or get some one to read it to you. Do not neglect this friendly warning, but attend to it while it is yet with you called ' To-day.' Oh ! what a mercy you were spared yet a little longer ! May it be for the salvation of your precious soul. The Lord Jesus is able and willing to save all who feel their need of his salvation. Pray, then, afflicted friend, for the Holy Spirit to show you your need of mercy, and of the precious blood of the Lord Jesus Christ to cleanse you from your sins, and to obtain your acceptance with God. This tract was written by a gentleman TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 339 seventy years old. May the Lord make it a blessing to your soul. He is able and willing to save you from going to bell, and willing to prepare you for the holiness and happiness of heaven. — Farewell." There was no signature to the letter ; it bore the " Stroudwater" postmark, but Matthew knew no one residing there. However, the perusal of the letter induced him to read the tract; the Holy Spirit blessed it to his conversion ; and he became a con- sistent Christian. He wished very much that he could find out who had sent him the tract ; and a kind friend to whom this interesting fact was men- tioned thought that he knew the person from whom it came. He wrote accordingly, and received the following note, which proved that his conjecture was right : " My dear sir : It was in hours of weakness, and during a long detention from the house of the Lord, that I was directed one Sabbath-day to write the letter to which you refer, to poor Matthew. It used to be a saying with myself, to myself, on doing any such thing, ' Well, I have cast one grain more of the good seed of the kingdom into the field of the world — that world which still lieth in wickedness.' I bless the Lord he permitted me to cast in that grain, and I praise him still more that he caused it 340 NEABING HOME. to germinate and bring forth fruit. Glory be to his holy name that he has seen fit to glorify the riches of his grace in the salvation of a soul by means in themselves so weak and poor. When I received the supply from London, of which that tract formed one, I selected a number of that description for the pur- pose of enclosing in letters (now in these days of penny-postage blessedness, in which in almost every letter we write we can proclaim the glad tidings of mercy, by inserting an eight-paged tract) — and among others, poor Matthew received one. Surely it would have been a shorter journey from Paternoster Row to the London Hospital ; but in this case it seemed needful that it should go from London to the coun- try, and back again to town, to reach the object for which it was designed. Several other such grains have been cast into the field of the world. Oh, that it may please the Lord to cause them to be fruitful also I" Now, reader, let the example of this pious invalid win you in some measure to follow it. It does not, you see, require much money, much talent, much in- fluence, or much strength to be useful. A few kind words written, or a good tract enclosed to an ac- quaintance or even to a stranger, may be the ap- pointed channel through which Grod's grace shall flow TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 341 into their souls. " Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shalt find it after many days."* Then there is the influence which you may exert over children and young persons. "Not by fault-find- ing, or selfish requirements, or sarcastic observations ; but by kind words, persuasive advice, and affectionate treatment. Your little grand-children, or your elder nephews and nieces, as they cluster round your cheer- ful fireside, may drink in many a gentle lesson which shall guide them in after years. If you have not any youthful relatives, you can cultivate the acquaint- ance of the children of your friends and neighbours. It is a lovely sight to see age and youth sweetly blending together — age tempering the gayety of youth, and youth brightening the gravity of age. The ivy adorns the oak, and the oak supports the ivy. " But young people," you may say, " are so self-willed and conceited ; they think they are as wise as old folks." It is often too true, but bear with them ; we have all been young in our time ; and it is astonishing how grateful even the most independent among them are for a real and warm-hearted interest in their welfare. You may influence them strongly, if you are only kind in purpose and judicious in practice. Sympathize with them in their joys and their sor- * Eccles. xi. 1. 342 NEABING HOME. rows. Show them that increase of years does not necessarily blunt the feelings or narrow the affec- tions ; that the pilgrim who has almost reached his welcome and long-expected resting-place does not forget or despise those who have but lately set out on their toilsome journey. Speak to them of your own experience of actual life ; of the mental and moral discipline which you have endured ; of the difficulties in the path of duty which you have met and con- quered ; of the comfort which has sustained you in the hour of trial and bereavement. Simple facts are more impressive than mere advice. Quietly but deeply they sink into the memory, arousing no op- position, exciting no argument ; in time of need they will be remembered and turned to good account. You may thus be the honoured instrument of guid- ing some wayward and careless heart to true peace and happiness ; of imparting right' principles which shall steer some perplexed spirit across the rough sea of temptation ; of forming the character of those who are destined in coming years to exercise great moral power over their fellow-creatures. You may not — you will not — live to behold those happy results of your patient and prayerful efforts ; but when those who die in the Lord rest from their labours, their works follow them. An aged man carefully planted TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 343 several fruit-trees in his garden, that they might grow up for the use and benefit of posterity ; so may you cast into human hearts that precious seed which will germinate and spring forth and bless the world long- after you have departed to your rest. The destiny of future generations may be linked with your Christian endeavour to gather one youthful friend into the fold of the Saviour. God grant that you may fully appreciate and fulfil your peculiar mission to the young. But perhaps the best way in which the aged Chris- tian — aye, and any Christian — can benefit others is by the purity and loveliness of his example. You cannot now do much or say much for the good of your fellow- creatures ; but "nothing speaks so loudly as the silent eloquence of a holy and consistent life;" nothing exercises such gentle and yet such powerful influence over the mind as the example of one whom we love and respect. It is a practical and perpetual sermon. Look into that quiet and half- darkened room. In the large easy-chair sits an aged lady. She is con- fined by constant indisposition to her house — to her apartment; nay, even to her chair, for she cannot move herself without assistance. Her friends are forbidden to see her, as the least excitement proves 344 NEARING HOME. injurious; and therefore a skilful nurse and a loving- hearted daughter are her only associates. But she does not wish for society ; incessant pain renders her unable to converse much, and the exertion of speak- ing but a few words fatigues her sadly. Poor lady ! the days have indeed come in which she has no pleasure ; the grasshopper is become a burden ; desire has failed ; and fears are in the w T ay. Her life has been a life full of good works ; and now, withdrawn for ever from her loved occupations, she must solace herself with the beautiful thought, " They also serve who only stand and wait." It is a beautiful thought ; she knows its truth ; she feels its preciousness ; her daily, constant prayer is, " Thy will be clone." Yet you must not imagine that her career of usefulness has ended — that it found its termination in that sick room. ~No ; in that limited sphere, during that lingering illness, she has, perhaps, done more good than you or I have effected in our lifetime. How? That kind servant who waits upon her has lately grown thoughtful and pious, and she traces the happy change in her views and in her feelings to the sweet example of her dear mistress ; not to her counsels, not to her persuasions, but to her example. She witnessed her patience, TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 345 her fortitude, her serenity, her faith in Christ, her readiness to depart ; and she felt how valuable that religion must be which could give such peace in life, such hope in death. She determined, with God's help, to make that religion her own ; and now her mistress's last hours are cheered by the delightful knowledge that her grateful attendant has chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her. Grlance now inside that lowly almshouse. There dwells a venerable man whose snow-white locks, bended frame, and tottering steps are plain indica- tions that his physical energies are rapidly declining. Is he too old or too infirm to be useful ? Almost, so far as active service is concerned, for he is both palsied and half blind ; but the light of his example shines brightly still, and sheds a holy radiance on all who come within its reach. His upright conduct, his cheerful demeanour, his kind feelings, and his heaven-like spirit are perpetual living lessons to his neighbours and friends. More than one thoughtless visitor has left his humble abode with the impression, " Well, there is such a thing as real religion ; I wish I were as good and as happy as that old man is." And many wavering or weary Christians have been strengthened for their earnest conflict through the 44 346 NEABING HOME. remembrance of the simple faith and devotedness of this aged servant of Grod. Does your life, your example, thus influence others for good ? Are you an epistle known and read of all men? Does your character and conduct commend the religion of Christ? Is it your daily endeavour to " adorn" as well as profess the doctrine of God your Saviour ? Every Christian should look well to his example ; it effects far more than his words, how- ever well-chosen and well-expressed those words may be. But especially should the aged believer be care- ful to let his light shine brightly and steadily before men, because his sphere of usefulness being limited, he should make the most of those means which are still within his reach ; and because soon, very soon, "the night cometh," and then his opportunities on earth will be closed for ever. There is one other way that we must not overlook in which the aged Christian may advance Christ's kingdom in the world, and that way is intercessory prayer. Weak and infirm, you may be unable to converse about religion; poor, perhaps, in this world's riches, it is not in your power to relieve the wants of the needy ; but amidst your feebleness and your poverty you can shut your door and pray to your Father who seeth in secret. You can implore TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 347 his succour for the distressed ; his sympathy for the sorrowful; his aid for the helpless; his instruction for the ignorant ; his pardon for the sinful ; his grace for the undeserving. You can plead with him on behalf of the heathen at home and the heathen abroad. You can supplicate his blessing both for the queen upon her throne and the peasant in his cottage. You can beseech him to guide into the way of truth those who have erred and are deceived, and to have mercy upon all men. Abraham interceded for Sodom; Job for his children; Moses for the Israelites ; Jacob for his grandsons ; the disciples for their persecuted brethren ; the apostle for his beloved converts. Catch their spirit ; follow in their steps ; add to their success. " The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."* It is impos- sible to tell how richly the healthful dew of God's grace may rest upon parched and barren hearts ; or how appropriately the gifts of his providence may be vouchsafed to the abodes of penury and want through the instrumentality of those heartfelt peti- tions which you offer at the throne of grace. Eter- nity alone will fully disclose the blessings which have been linked with intercessory prayer. Aged Christian! mourn not that your opportuni- * James v. 16. 348 NEAEING HOME. ties of usefulness are so few ; rather rejoice that you are still permitted to have a place among the labour- ers in Christ's vineyard. Your department is a retired one; your employment is easy; but your path is marked out for you by the Master whom you serve. In wise considerateness he appoints to each labourer his position and his duties ; and to all who honestly perform the work which he assigns — be it great or be it small — he will address those gracious words of commendation, "Well done, good and faith- ful servant : — enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."* Yet you cannot but sigh sometimes when you reflect how little you are really able to do for the honour of God and the good of your fellow-men; your best services are so imperfect, your holiest efforts are so defiled. As life advances you grow better acquainted with your own motives, and more enlightened respecting God's character and will ; and the inevitable result is that you are humbled under the increasing consciousness of your sinfulness and your failures. Oh if you could but serve God as you desire to do! How unwearied, how unselfish, how unlimited would be your joyful obedience ! Wait awhile, and your longings shall be satisfied. In heaven there will be no feebleness to retard your * Matt. xxv. 23. TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 349 efforts, no imperfection to sully your actions. "His servants shall serve him."* Without one difficulty or defect they shall fulfil his varied behests and do his will. And as angels are now ministering spirits for the heirs of salvation, it is not improbable that glorified Christians will be frequently engaged on some errand of love to God's intelligent creatures. How welcome is this idea to those who feel half sorry when they consider that their work on earth is so near its close ! * Kev. xxii. 3. JOHN WALTON. The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er ; So calm are we when passions are no more ; For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, too certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries ; The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home ; Leaving the Old, at once both worlds they view That stand upon the threshold of the New. 350 JfttHg flip*. ANONYMOUS. "Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of com cometh in his season." — Job v. 26. Long- standing in the Master's field, Fed daily by his sun and dew, Eager its best return to yield, To perfect symmetry it grew : The storm swept over it in vain, Nor frost could blight its noonday heat, Till, a fair shock of golden grain, It stood in perfectness complete, Fully ripe. Men saw, and gave to Grod the praise, Who smiled well pleased, and passed it by, Till in these later autumn days Its garner was prepared on high ; Then came the Reaper down at morn, Softly as feathery snow-flakes come, To gather in the golden corn, And bear the precious harvest home, Fully ripe. 351 352 NEABING HOME. Ah ! but the field is brown and bare, And heaven's great gain we grieve to lose, For in our eyes 'twas wondrous fair, While fitting for the Master's use ; And for the place left desolate, We needs must weep ; yet thanks be given, The treasure that we found so great Was for a better place in heaven, Fully ripe. Ip* Mont of fitp&rittrt. REV. JOHN LOGAN. The hour of my departure's come, I hear the voice that calls me home ; At last, Lord ! let trouble cease, And let thy servant die in peace. Not in mine innocence I trust ; I bow before thee in the dust ; And through my Saviour's blood alone I look for mercy at thy throne. I leave the world without a tear, Save for the friends I held so dear : To heal their sorrows, Lord, descend, And to the friendless prove a friend. I come, I come at thy command, I give my spirit to thy hand ; Stretch forth thine everlasting arms, And shield me in the last alarms. 45 353 354 NEABING HOME. The hour of my departure's come, I hear the voice that calls me home ; Now, my G-od, let trouble cease, Now let thy servant die in peace. itfto to Bit f^afelt). ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. Can we do anything to render our death — which cannot be far off — both safe and comfortable ? No doubt, by Grocl's assistance, we can do much to ac- complish these desirable ends, if we will set about the work in good earnest. I know that there is a feeling of despondency habitually existing in the minds of some aged per- sons of serious disposition, which leads them to con- clude that if they are not now prepared to die they never will be. And from all the acquaintance which I have had with professors of religion, I am con- strained to think that, as their near approach to the grave does not increase their impressions of the importance of eternal realities, so old age has no tendency to render the evidences of their union with Christ more clear and satisfactory. You may fre- quently inquire of a dozen such professors in suces- *From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board of Publication. 355 356 NEARING HOME. sion whether they have obtained a comfortable assu- rance of the goodness of their spiritual condition, and the probability is that four out of five, if not nine out of ten, will answer in the negative, and will express serious doubts whether they were ever the subjects of regenerating grace. It was not, I believe, always so with those who cordially received the doctrines of grace and rested their souls upon them. To say nothing about the joyful confidence and assured hope of the apostles and primitive Christians, the members of the first Reformed Churches seem to have derived from the pure doctrines of the Bible a high degree of peace and joy. The same was the fact among the pious Puritans of Old and New England, and the Presby- terians of Scotland in the best and purest days of the Scottish Church. The question has often occurred, why does the belief of these doctrines afford less comfort now than in former times? It is not my purpose at present to attempt to account for this fact. I adduce it merely to show that most profes- sors among us are not actually prepared for death. Even if their state should be one of safety, they can- not view their approaching end with confidence and comfort. And whilst their evidences of genuine piety are so dubious, they of course cannot know HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 357 that they are in a safe condition. It is then of the utmost importance that all professors of the above description, and especially the aged, should be im- portunately urged " to give diligence to make their calling and election sure." I am aware that some Christians who enjoy very comfortable evidences of being the adopted children of God are not willing to profess that they have arrived at full assurance. They suppose that they who have attained to this high privilege are in a state of uninterrupted joy, and that no shadow of doubt ever passes over their minds. The truth is, they do possess a solid assu- rance, although their frames of mind are not always equally comfortable, and although the evidence is not so great that it cannot be increased. I recollect, when very young, to have heard a judicious minister conversing with an eminently pious old lady, who had belonged to the church under the care of the Rev. Samuel Davies, in the county of Hanover. In answer to some inquiry respecting the comfort which she enjoyed in the service of her divine Master, she said, after expressing lively feelings of faith, peni- tence and gratitude, " But, my dear friend, I have never yet attained to the faith of assurance ; all I can say is, that I have the faith of reliance." " Well," said the minister, " if you know that you have the 358 NEABING SOME. faith of reliance, that is assurance." The degrees of evidence possessed by different Christians are vari- ous, from the feeblest hope up to strong confidence, and the clearness of the evidence to the same person varies exceedingly ; but in general there seems to be in our Church a sad falling below far in respect to this matter. It has, however, often been correctly observed that we are not to expect dying grace before the dying hour arrives. God gives strength as we need it ; and when the believer is called to severe trials or to difficult duties, he commonly receives aid proportioned to the urgency of his wants, and is surprised to find himself held up by a power not his own. Thus we have often seen the sincere, humble Christian, who, during life, was subject to bondage through fear of death, triumphing in the dying hour. This expectation of special aid ought to be encour- aged. It is, indeed, a part of that preparation which we should make ; and if we confidently rely on the great Shepherd to meet us and comfort us while walking through the valley and shadow of death, he will not disappoint us. But, in dealing with professors troubled with doubts, we are too apt to proceed on the assumed principle that, notwithstanding their sad misgivings and fears, they are at bottom sincere Christians, and HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 359 have the root of the matter in them ; while in regard to many this may be an entire mistake, and we are in danger of cherishing in them a fatal delusion. Here the skill and fidelity of the spiritual watchmen are put to the test ; and while they should not devi- ate a hair's -breadth from the rule of the divine word, it is better that the pious Christian should suffer some unnecessary pain than that the false professor should be bolstered up with delusive hopes. I must say, therefore, that the true reason why many pro- fessors have no comfortable evidence of their re- ligion is because they have none. They have never experienced the new birth ; and being still dead in trespasses and sins, it is no wonder that they cannot find in themselves what does not exist. I abhor a censorious spirit, which, upon slight grounds, judges this and that professor to be graceless ; but all my experience and observation lead me to believe that in our day, as well as in former times, the " foolish virgins" constitute a full moiety of the visible Church. What I would urge, therefore, on you my aged friends, and on myself, is a more serious, impartial, and thorough examination into the foundation of our hope of heaven than perhaps we have ever yet made. Let us go back to the commencement of our religious 360 NEABING HOME. course, and see whether in our present more mature judgment we can conclude that we were then the subjects of a saving change. I do not ask you whether you had an increase of serious feelings, or whether your sympathies were strongly excited and experienced some change from a state of terror or distress to comfort ; for all these things may be ex- perienced, and have been experienced, by unregener- ate persons. Let us carefully inquire whether the habitual tenour of our lives has been such as to satisfy us that a new nature was received. If we have fallen into sin, have we deeply and sincerely repented of it ? Have we wept bitterly for our sin, like Peter ? or have we mourned in deep sorrow, like David ? Not such repentance as some experience, who, after all their convictions and confessions, return again to the same course of iniquity. But, after all examinations of past experience, the main point is, What is the present habitual state of our hearts ? Do we now love God as his character is exhibited in his word ? Do we hunger and thirst after holiness or a complete conformity to the law of God ? Would we be willing that that law should be relaxed in its demands to afford us some indulgence t Do we seek our chief happiness in the favour of God, and in communion with him in his word and ordinances ? Is his glory HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 361 uppermost in our desires, and do we sincerely wish and determine to do all that we can to promote the kingdom of the Redeemer? Do we sincerely love the people of God, of every sect and name, because they bear his image and are the redeemed children of God ? Again : what is the ground on which we expect the pardon of sin and the favour of God ? Is it because we are better than many others ? Is it because we have had what we esteem great experi- ences ? Is it on account of our moral demeanour or charitable benefactions ? Dare we trust in any mea- sure to our own goodness and righteousness ? If we build on any of these, or on any similar grounds, then are we on a sandy foundation, and all our tow- ering hopes must fall. But methinks I hear the humble penitent saying, " All these things I count loss for Christ — I feel that I deserve to die — I never was more convinced of anything than that it would have been perfectly just for God to send me to hell. And now all my trust and all my hope, if I know my own heart, is in the Lord Jesus Christ, and in his perfect righteousness and intercession ; and all my confidence of being able to serve God hereafter, or to persevere for a single day, is in the grace of the Holy Spirit. " The whole evidence of Christian character may be reduced to 46 362 NEABING HOME. two particulars — entire trust in Christ for justifica- tion, and a sincere and universal love of holiness, with a dependence on the Holy Spirit for its exist- ence, continuance and increase. If, my friend, you have these evidences now, you need not perplex your- self by a multitude of scruples. You may dismiss your doubts. God's word will never deceive any who rely upon its guidance. You may not know the day nor even the year when spiritual life commenced in your soul ; and yet, if you now feel its warm pulsa- tions — if you breathe its genuine aspirations — if your heart's treasures are in heaven, and if the cause of God is dearer to you than any other interest — if his people are dearer to you than any other people — if your most constant and supreme desire is to glorify God your Redeemer, whether by living or dying — then may you welcome death. He is no king of ter- rors to you. You may say, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly !" Perhaps some of you are afraid of the pangs of death. You have heard of the convulsive struggle — the dying groans — the difficult breathing — and the ghastly countenance. Well, it must be confessed, the scene is appalling ; but it is soon over, for ever. I am of opinion, however, that often there is the ap- pearance of dreadful suffering where the patient is HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 363 unconscious of any very acute pain ; and very fre- quently the departure of the immortal spirit is, at the last, like falling into a gentle sleep. And not un- frequently, while the body is racked with pain, or with what would produce pain in other circumstances, the soul is so supported and comforted by the sweet peace of Grod poured into it, that the disorders and convulsions of the body are scarcely thought of. And in many instances Grod takes his people away by a sudden stroke; — they know nothing about it until they awake in heaven. Oh what a transition! Or, if it be necessary to let in the light of glory gradu- ally, Grod, who knows our constitution, will order all things well. I would advise you to meditate much on death. Collect and have in memory a number of precious promises for the occasion. Put up many prayers for grace and strength for a dying hour. Beg an interest in the intercessions of your Christian friends. Keep your minds calm, and yield not to perturbing cares. Be found at your post when the summons comes, with your loins girded and lights burning. But mdobti* \ttbt giejmrteir. FROM THE GERMAN OF J. LANGE. Our beloved have departed, While we tarry broken-hearted In the dreary, empty house ; They have ended life's brief story, They have reached the home of glory, Over death victorious ! Hush that sobbing, weep more lightly ; On we travel, daily, nightly, To the rest that they have found : Are we not upon the river, Sailing fast, to meet for ever On more holy, happy ground ? On we haste, to home invited, There with friends to be united In a surer bond than here ; Meeting soon, and met for ever ! — Glorious hope, forsake us never, For thy glimmering light is dear. 364 OUB BELOVED RAVE DEPABTED. 365 Ah ! the way is shining clearer, As we journey ever nearer To the everlasting home. Comrades, who await our landing, Friends, who round the throne are standing, We salute you, and we come. rmfibtttts ht ©air. PAUL GERHARDT. Bitter anguish have I borne, Keen regret my heart hath torn, Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes, Satan blinded me with lies ; Yet at last am I set free ; Help, protection, love to me Once more true companions be. Ne'er was left a helpless prey, Ne'er with shame was turned away, He who gave himself to God, And on him had cast his load. Who in Grod his hope hath placed Shall not life in pain outwaste ; Fullest joy he yet shall taste. Though to-day may not fulfil All thy hopes, have patience still ; For perchance to-morrow's sun Sees thy happier days begun. 366 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 367 As God willeth march the hours, Bringing joy at last in showers, And whate'er we asked is ours. When my heart was vexed with care, Filled with fears, wellnigh despair ; When, with watching many a night, On me fell pale sickness' blight ; When my courage failed me fast, Camest thou, my Grod, at last, And my woes were quickly past. Now as long as here I roam, On this earth have house and home, Shall this wondrous gleam from thee Shine through all my memory. To my God I yet will cling, All my life the praises sing That from thankful hearts outspring. Every sorrow, every smart, That the eternal Father's heart Hath appointed me of yore, Or hath yet for me in store, As my life flows on, I'll take Calmly, gladly for his sake — No more faithless murmurs make. 868 NEARING HOME. ■ ■' I will meet distress and pain, I will greet e'en death's dark reign, I will lay me in the grave With a heart still glad and brave. Whom the Strongest doth defend, Whom the Highest counts his friend, Cannot perish in the end. §t ||attks of t\t ||ib*r- ANONYMOUS. " Now I further saw that betwixt the pilgrims and the gate of the city was a river ; but there was no bridge to go over, and the river was very deep. At the sight of this river the pilgrims were much stunned; but the men that went with them said, ' You must go through, or you cannot come at the gate.' The pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the gate ? to which they answered, ' Yes ; but there hath not any, save two, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path since the foundation of the world, nor shall until the last trum- pet shall sound.' The pilgrims then began to de- spond in their minds, and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, by which they might escape the river."* Ah, how true and how touching is this description of the emotions which are often excited in the Chris- tian pilgrim's breast as he stands on the banks of * Pilgrim's Progress. 47 369 370 NEABING HOME. the river ! He fears to cross its deep, dark waters ; lie shrinks from the strange, and, it may be, the stormy passage to eternity. Oh, if he could but reach the celestial city without having to cross the stream of death ! It cannot be. When the summons for his de- parture arrives, he must enter that cold flood and meet its terrors. None can disregard the call, nor choose any other mode of transit. "It is appointed unto men once to die."* Yet why should the Christian be afraid ? Solemn and mysterious as the last change undoubtedly is, even to the child of Grod, he may rest assured that a wise and loving Saviour will shield him from every danger, and guide him in safety through it. And if Christ himself is with him then, if his rod and staff support and comfort him, what evil can he fear ? Aged reader, as you gaze upon the river which rolls between you and the promised land, is your mind filled with gloom and apprehension? Is it not because you look only at death ? You do not at the same time 1ix the eye of faith upon your Saviour. You seem to think that, unaided and alone, you will have to struggle through its waves, instead of joy- fully remembering his promise, "When thou passest * Heb. ix. 27. THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 371 through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."* Oh ! he who lays hold upon this sweet assurance may safely shut his eyes, and leave himself to the entire disposal of infinite love, and faithfulness, and wisdom. Does nature recoil from the physical suffering of the last mortal conflict ? It is true that the pains of death are sometimes so severe as to occasion the deepest distress and anguish; but in the greater number of instances how easy and tranquil are the closing moments of life ! How many pass from time to eternity as calmly as an infant falling asleep on its mother's bosom ! But should it be otherwise — should your dying hour be one of extreme suffering — is not the manner as well as the time of your departure hence appointed by your heavenly Father ? and will he suffer you to be tried above that which you are able to bear ? He knows your frame ; he remembers that you are clust, and feels the tenderest parental compassion for those who fear him ; and therefore you may be assured that the trials which his love ordains, whether in life or in death, are necessary trials, and that he will give you support under them. And if your strength is proportioned to your burden, is it not the same in effect as if that burden were re- * Isa. xliii. 2. 372 NEABING HOME. moved? Listen to the testimony of an eminent minister of Christ, whose sufferings were intense, but whose spirit was filled with rejoicing in the midst of them : "I have suffered twenty times, yes — to speak within bounds— twenty times as much as I could in being burnt at the stake ; but my joy in God so abounded as to render my sufferings not only toler- able, but welcome. The sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed. God is my all. While he is present with me no event can in the least diminish my happiness ; and were the whole world at my feet trying to minister to my comfort, they could not add one drop to the cup. Death comes every night, and stands at my bedside in the form of terrible con- vulsions, until every bone is almost dislocated with pain ; yet while the body is thus tortured, the soul is perfectly happy and peaceful — more happy than I can possibly express to you." How easily might we multiply proofs like these — proofs of God so sustaining and elevating the soul of the believer above the pressure of physical suffering as that it was comparatively unheeded and unfelt ! And can he not do the same, reader, for you ? Is not his grace sufficient for you as well as for others ? Oh, trust yourself to him ; repose with confidence upon THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 373 his promises ; and believe that in a dying hour, your succour shall be equal to your need. Do not test your preparedness for that hour by the strength and comfort which you now possess, but by the solemn engagement which Christ has made never to leave nor forsake you. He is with you now, to help you to glorify him by your life ; when death comes he will be with you then, and help you to glorify him by your death. Dying grace will not be vouchsafed until a dying hour ; you do not want it now, but it will be abundantly vouchsafed then. Wait for it in faith. "Death is somewhat dreary," said Bishop Cowper to his weeping friends, " and the streams of that Jordan which is between us and our Canaan run furiously; but they stand still when the ark comes." But perhaps your anxiety respecting death is occasioned by the thought of the separation which must take place between the soul and the body. You dread the entrance upon an unknown and untried state of existence. It is not what you know, but what you do not know of the future, which causes your distress. If any one could return from the un- seen world, and tell you exactly what he experienced in the moment of his departure from earth, and clearly describe to you the sensations which he felt 374 NEABING HOME. when he found himself absent from the body, your mind, you think, would be relieved of much of its disquietude. But it is the uncertainty, the blank, the mystery lying before, in the awful distance, at which you tremble. Like a child in the dark, be- cause you cannot see, you are afraid. The imaginary objects which fill you with awe and trepidation would disappear if there were light enough to reveal to you the true state of things. Why, then, you ask, is that light withheld? Could not God have unfolded to us in his word the nature of our future existence, and the mode of our introduction to it ? He must have foreseen the suspense and the agitation which would arise through our ignorance, and yet he has not sought to allay our fears by a clearer and fuller revelation of things to come. Why is it ? The fact of God's silence upon this point is a sufficient reply. We may be sure, since he is Love, that the know- ledge which he has reserved is neither requisite nor desirable for us. It is probable that, in our present state of existence we could not comprehend more than he has already told us about another world, or the full blaze of light which we desire, had it been granted, might have proved injurious to us. We are as yet only in the infancy of our being, and do not know what is best for us ; but our Maker knows, THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 375 and he has acted accordingly. "He has said enough to awaken curiosity, to enkindle desire, to inspire hope, to encourage confidence and expectation ; and we must wait for the rest. God calls us to honour him by our faith, by our belief, at all times and under all circumstances, in his wisdom and goodness. It is as though we were allowed to give to the universe a proof of the firmness of our dependence upon him, such as no heavenly spirits can give, to show that we are not afraid to trust him even when he bids us die." Oh, shall we not willingly prove how unshaken is our reliance on his love, by resigning ourselves in the hour of death, without one fear, to his care ? The way before us is dark and mysterious, but we will cheerfully follow where he leads us. And how gently, how tenderly will he lead us ! The act of dying which we so greatly fear may be a gentle and painless slumber — a quiet falling asleep in Christ ; and the light of eternity will dawn upon us like the tranquil beams of the morning which now gladden our waking eyes. "Hast thou ne'er looked on a little child When he first awakes from rest, And smiles to think how his dream beguiled While he slept on a parent's breast? So calm and so sweet shall the waking be In the radiant dawn of eternity. ' ' 376 NEABING HOME. There is, it is true, something strange and inexpli- cable in the idea of our existence without a body; we are apt to fancy that a disembodied spirit must at first feel as it were unclothed and unprotected. But it is a mistake to suppose that the soul owes its defence from external harms and hardships to the body in the same manner as the body does to the clothes it wears. The very contrary is true. It is here exposed to many more harms and hardships by means of its union with the mortal body ; and, con- sequently, its disunion from that will be its freedom from them. The operations and conceptions of the liberated soul will be inconceivably more perfect, free, and unbiassed than they now are, while subject to so many impediments and interruptions from its connection with animal nature. This is evident from the fact that even now we find our soul in the best frame for thinking when it is least affected by the body. How rapid, how strong, how clear, then, will be the flow of its thoughts when they meet with nothing from without to obstruct them ! The dread of death, however, may arise from other causes. It may result from apprehensions as to our eternal happiness. We fear, sometimes, whether our names are written in the Lamb's book of life — whether we have any warrant to look forward to a THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 377 participation in everlasting joys ; and therefore we cannot bear the thought of meeting our Judge face to face, and would fain retard the moment when our everlasting destiny must be fixed. Were we sure that there was a mansion prepared for us, and a crown of glory laid up for us in heaven, oh we should not mind passing through the river of death, even though its waters were deep and tempest- tossed. But how can we be sure ? What saith the Scripture ?— " There is now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." " He that belie veth on the Son hath everlasting life." " I am the living bread which came down from hea- ven ; if any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever." "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me : and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish." "I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."* But precious as these assertions are, they do not exactly relieve our distress. Our fear is not whether true believers are everlastingly saved, but whether we are among their number. We hope we are, but it is so easy to deceive ourselves ; we may be mis- taken ; and how terrible to wake in eternity and find * Rom. viii. 7; John iii. 36; vi. 51 ; x. 27; xiv. 3. 48 378 NEARING HOME. ourselves excluded from the bliss of the redeemed, beyond the possibility of change ; for, what we are then, we must be for evei Our dread, then, of death — or rather of the conse- quences of death — may be traced to the weakness of our faith or to imperfect views of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It cannot, therefore, be removed until our faith becomes stronger and our views clearer. We must study the word which God has given us, and ask for the teaching of his Spirit, that we may be enabled to understand and to apply to ourselves the heart- cheering truth, "Christ is all, and in all;" "Ye are complete in him." We must strive to lay aside the reasonings, the prejudices, and the unbelief of our own hearts, and receive with simplicity and thank- fulness the full and free promises of our Saviour. As we become better acquainted with that loving Saviour, and understand more perfectly the design of his all-sufficient atonement, our anxious forebod- ings about the future will gradually pass away as the gloom of midnight fades before the rising sun, and the God of hope will fill us with all joy and peace in believing. It will tend to mitigate the alarm with which we regard the solemn change of death, if we look at it in its true character, as a continuance of the present, THE BANKS OF THE BIVEE. 379 rather than as the commencement of a new state of existence. Heaven and hell are not so much the reward (using the word in its scriptural sense) of our past life as the necessary sequence of it. It will be what we are, not where we are, which will consti- tute our felicity or our woe ; and therefore if we are conscious now that we love the Saviour and trust in him, and follow after holiness, or even that we heartily desire and strive to do this, is it not plain that we have within us the germ of true happiness — a heart that is touched with the love of Christ, and longs for conformity to his likeness? With this principle implanted in our hearts, how could we be for ever miserable? It is impossible! not only because Grod will never falsify his own word, nor condemn those who put their trust in his Son, but because the elements of lasting peace and joy are already ours. " He that belie veth on the Son hath — not shall have — everlasting life." Meditate on this declaration, dear reader, and take the consolation which it is calculated to impart to all who are placing their reliance upon the atonement of Christ. But in the contemplation of a dying hour a tender and affectionate spirit is sometimes deeply affected at the prospect of parting with beloved relatives and friends. There are some, perhaps, to whom we are 380 NEABING HOME. a solace and a support, who have always been accustomed to lean upon us in their weary march of life, and to look to us for counsel and sympathy; how will they do without us ? how can we leave them to struggle on alone and sorrowful ? Or there are others for whose salvation we are deeply con- cerned, and over whose wanderings we often shed bitter tears ; how shall we bear to take our farewell — it may be our last farewell — of them? How keen will be the anguish of our dying hour as we reflect that they are still unchanged, unsaved, and that we dare not cherish the hope of meeting them again ! Oh how painful are the separations of the grave ! How hard it is to sever, if only for a few years, the ties which bind us so closely to the dear ones around us ! Many Christians, aged Christians too — for old age does not quench the ardency of the affections — can respond to the touching desire of a youthful disciple of the Saviour: " Oh, mamma! I wish we could all die and go to heaven together." Yet why should you dwell only on the dark side of the picture ? It may never be presented to you. Your heavenly Father, in his compassion for your weakness, may spare you the sorrow which you anticipate. You may pass away from this life as in a quiet slumber. THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 381 "Nor bear a single pang at parting ; Nor see the tear of sorrow starting ; Nor hear the quivering lips that bless you ; Nor feel the hands of love that press you. ' ' Or, if not — if fully conscious in your last moments that you are parting from those whom you love — God will so strengthen and animate your dying spirit as that you shall be enabled with calmness, nay, with cheerfulness, to resign the objects of your affection to his merciful guidance and protection. You will feel that he who has watched over you so many years in the wilderness, and brought you safely through every danger, can surely do as much for those whom you are leaving behind ; that he who has taught you to pray so earnestly and so perseveringly for their spiritual welfare will not suffer your prayers to re- main unanswered, although he calls you home before you have witnessed their fulfilment. And you will also realize your happy and speedy re-union with your dear friends in another world. Death will not long divide you; the remainder of their appointed time on earth will pass rapidly away as a tale that is told, and then you will meet them again — meet to part no more ! "With the prospect of meeting for ever, With the bright gates of heaven in view, 382 NEARING HOME. From the dearest on earth we may sever, And smile a delightful adieu. ' ' Aged believer, you are standing now on the banks of the river ; fear not, only believe. Remember that one of the reasons why Jesus Christ manifested him- self in human nature was for the express purpose of dispelling that gloom which naturally overspreads the mind as we look upon the dark waters of death. " Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same ; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil ; and de- liver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage."* Then seek deliver- ance from that fear, and expect deliverance. Christ suffered not in vain ; all the purposes of his death have been fully accomplished ; and he would have his people even now to participate in his triumph ; and without waiting for the actual encounter to join in the ascription of the apostle, " Thanks be to Glod which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" Then 1 ' Shudder not to pass the stream, Venture all thy care on him — Him whose dying love and power Still' d its tossing, hushed its roar. *Heb. ii. 14, 15. THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 383 Not one object of his care Ever suffered shipwreck there ; See the haven full in view ; Love divine shall bear thee through." Is it granted to you to possess that strong faith, that calm assurance which elevates the mind above the fear of death ? Can you say with gladness, " The time of my departure is at hand : I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith : henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that day?"* Thank your Saviour for this glorious hope — this hope which is as an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast — for he is its author and its bestower. It is because he has abol- ished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, that you are now enabled to look forward with composure to your conflict with the last foe, and triumphantly to ask, " death, where is thy sting ? grave, where is thy victory ?"f Well may you rejoice, for your life is hid with Christ in Grod, and you are safe for ever — safe amidst the infirmi- ties and perils of old age ; safe in the swelling waters of Jordan ; safe when you stand before the solemn judgment- seat; yes, safe throughout eternity. JSTo- * 2 Tim. iv. 6-8. t 1 Cor. xv. 55. 384 NEARING HOME. thing in earth or hell can separate you from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus, or pluck you from the grasp of your ever-living Saviour. He upholds and comforts you now in the evening of life; and " by-and-by, leaning upon his arm, you shall come down to the river. Not a ripple shall be on its bosom ; its clear waters shining in heaven's own light shall allure to the crossing. His feet shall but touch the stream, and, lo, a way for the ransomed to pass over." "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord;" "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."* But our remarks about the river of death have been addressed to true Christians ; are you, reader, one of their number ? If not, you have no right to appropriate to yourself the consolations which are designed only for them. There is no sight more painful than that of an aged individual on the bor- ders of the grave, on the threshold of eternity, un- renewed, unsanctified, and yet undismayed by the terrors of the future, and confident of the joys of heaven. May God preserve us from so fearful a de- lusion ! " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."f A life of carelessness — of worldliness — of self- * Rev. xiv. 13 ; Psa. cxvi. 15. f Gal. vi. 7. THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 38 5 righteousness, cannot prepare us for a life of glory. " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." " He that belie veth not the Son shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him* "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord."f A change of heart, faith in Christ, the fruits of holiness, are the precursors of the believer's assurance of eternal felicity ; what do you know of them in your own experience ? Examine yourself, whether you are in the faith, or whether you have only a name to live while you are dead. The absence of alarm, or even the possession of joy, as you draw near to death and eternity, is not of itself an indica- tion of safety. It may be but the deadly calm be- fore an awful tempest ; a fatal slumber on the edge of a frightful precipice. Ignokance trembled not when he came to the river-side and prepared to cross it; he got over it with less difficulty than Christian, for one Vain Hope helped him with his boat ; but when he reached the other side, the King commanded his servants to bind him hand and foot, and to cast him into outer darkness. Yet while this should warn the presumptuous and the self-confident, it should not discourage the awakened sinner who feels that life is receding be- * John iii. 3, 36. t Heb. xii. 14. 49 386 NEABING HOME. neath his tread, and that his feet have as yet found no sure resting-place. The language of the gospel is language of peace to all who really desire salvation from the peril and the dominion of sin. " Come unto me," says the Saviour whom it proclaims, " all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."* It is never too late to turn to him, to seek forgiveness at his cross. God's promises of salvation are made without exception of time ; for whenever a sinner repents of his sins, he has promised to put away his wickedness out of remembrance. They are made without exception of sins; for, "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin ;"f and, "All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men. "J They are made without exception of per- sons; for, "Whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved ;"§ "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely ;"|| " Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."^f Aged reader ! " Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the word." Look unto him and be saved. How else will you pass through the swellings of Jordan ? how else will you stand at the judgment-seat of Christ? * Matt. xi. 28. t 1 John i. 7. X Matt. xii. 31. \ Acts ii. 21. || Rev. xxii. 17. \ John vi. 37. FROM THE GERMAN OF B. SCHMOLKE. Heavenwakd doth our journey tend. We are strangers here on earth ; Through the wilderness we wend Towards the Canaan of our birth. Here we roam a pilgrim band, Yonder is our native land. Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings, Heavenly nature canst thou claim ; There is naught of earthly things Worthy to be all thine aim ; Every soul whom Glod inspires Back to him, its Source, aspires. Heavenward ! doth his Spirit cry, When I hear him in his word, Showing thus the rest on high, When I shall be with my Lord : When his word fills all my thought, Oft to heaven my soul is caught. 387 388 NEARING HOME. Heavenward ever would I haste, When thy table, Lord, is spread ; Heavenly strength on earth I taste, Feeding on the Living Bread. Such is e'en on earth our fare Who thy marriage feast shall share. Heavenward ! Faith discerns the prize That is waiting us afar, And my heart would swiftly rise, High o'er sun and moon and star, To that Light behind the veil Where all earthly splendours pale. Heavenward Death shall lead at last, To the home where I would be ; All my sorrows overpast, I shall triumph there with thee, Jesus, who hast gone before, That we too might heavenward soar. Heavenward ! Heavenward ! Only this Is my watchword on the earth ; For the love of heavenly bliss Counting all things little worth. Heavenward all my being tends, Till in heaven my journey ends. ||^tt toil! t\tm §ie? ANONYMOUS. Not in the solemn night, When dim and shadowy all things appear ; When thoughts are tinged with mournfulness and fear, And nature's fairest scenes are veiled from sight ; For darkness only throws a deeper gloom Around the opening tomb. But let the gladsome day Smile upon my departure ; let the bright And glorious sunshine image forth that light Which soon shall beam with pure and fadeless ray Upon my ransomed spirit ; let no cloud Life's closing scene enshroud. Not in the hour of health, Without one kind adieu or parting token, When suddenly the chain of life is broken, And our last messenger comes as by stealth ; — From quick transition to eternity ? Good Lord, deliver me. 339 390 NEARING HOME. Calm be my last farewell To all the joys and cares and griefs of earth ; On themes of precious and immortal worth In peaceful contemplation let me dwell ; As gradually fades the light of day, So let me pass away. Not in a distant land, Or on the bosom of the lonely sea, Where stranger forms would coldly bend o'er me ; Far, far from the loved and home-linked band ; Without one friend my dying hours to bless, And soothe my weariness. But gather round my bed The loved ones who have gladdened life's past hours: Let cherished objects, fondly-tended flowers, And well-known faces, comfort round me spread ; And gentle words of counsel and of love Point me to hopes above. Saviour ! thou wilt not chide These simple wishes twined around the grave ; And yet 'tis better that on death's cold wave My trembling vessel thou shouldst launch and guide, How, when, and where thou wilt: what should I fear With thee, my pilot, near ? WHEN WILT THOU DIE* 391 Through all life's troublous way Thou hast sustained me. Thou wilt keep me still. Veiled is the future, yet I fear no ill ; But ready stand thy summons to obey. It matters little what the path may be, So that it leads to thee. REV. WILLIAM ROMAINE. It is appointed unto men once to die. The time is fixed by an immutable decree. The days of our years are threescore years and ten, and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow : for it is soon cut off, and we flee away. If some be permitted to live longer, yet the infirmities of old age must arrive, bringing with them labour and sorrow, the forerunners of death. Circu- lation will become languid. The senses of the body will grow dull and heavy. The faculties of the mind will be impaired, and they will discover it by not re- membering proper names. In this decline of life believers are subject to the same infirmities with other men ; they have no ex- emption from pain, or sickness, or death ; but they have that which keeps up their spirits and makes them patient and joyful. The consolations of God are then most needed, and he has promised them, and * From "Triumph of Faith." 392 THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 393 he is faithful : he never failed them who trusted in him. He has suited his promises to all the infirmi- ties of age. He knows our frame perfectly, and has described it with an unerring pen (Eccles. xii.), that when we feel the signs of old age we may apply to to him for grace to profit by them. The symptoms there given are infallibly true and just, and are as so many monitors, warning the man that the vigour of life is declining, and that the body is returning to the earth from whence it came. Happy is he who takes this warning, and remembers his Creator in the days of his youth, before the wearisome days come of weakness and pain. He has fled to Jesus for refuge, and finds and experiences what he has engaged to do for his people when heart and flesh begin to fail them. Blessed be his grace for the abundant pro- vision which he has made for their faith and pa- tience : he says to them, " I will be with you, I will never leave you nor forsake you : so that you may boldly say, The Lord is our helper, and we need not fear what the infirmities of age can do unto us." One of them, the Christian hero, thus encouraged himself in the Lord his God : " Thou art my hope, Lord God : thou art my trust even from my youth. By thee have I been holden up from the womb ; thou art he that took me out of my mother's bowels ; my praise 50 394 NEABING HOME. shall be continually of thee. I am a wonder unto many, but thou art my strong refuge." This was his trust; and God did not forsake him. He remem- bered his word unto his servant, whereon he had caused him to depend. There failed not aught of any good thing which the Lord had spoken unto him. Oh what great encouragement have believers to follow the steps of his faith ! For his God is their God, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, to young and old, who put their trust in him. His promise to the Israel of God cannot be broken. Thus he pledges his word of truth to them, giving them a warrant to pray unto him : " Let my mouth be filled with thy praise, and with thy honour all the day; cast me not off in the time of old age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth." To this prayer the Lord inclined his ear, and vouchsafed this gracious an- swer : " Hearken unto me, house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, which are borne by me from the belly, which are carried from the womb : and even to your old age I am he ; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you : I have made, and I will bear ; even I will carry, and will deliver you." These are some of his rich cordials for the aged, which he provided for them in his love, and he is sensibly touched with the feeling of their in- THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 395 firmities in administering them ; for he himself took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses. His compassions bind him to comfort and relieve his old disciples ; and when they apply to him in time of need, he is ever present to grant them his promised help ; yea, so suited to their case as to make them grow in grace as they grow in years. They bring- forth fruit in their old age, the rich fruit of humility and the ripe fruit of thankfulness — fruit that endur- eth unto everlasting life. We have a happy instance of this in God's good- ness to an ancient believer who lived to be an hun- dred and seventy-five years old. He was the friend of God, who had blessed Abraham through life, and that in all things, and who even to hoary hairs loaded him with blessings. For God had promised him, " Thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace, thou shalt be buried in a good old age ;" and the sacred historian, relating the fulfilling of the promise, says, " He gave up the ghost, and died in a good old age, an old man, and full of years, and was gathered to his people." His old age was good in body and soul. Whatever infirmities he had, they were intended for good, and actually did him good. He was a very cheerful, pleasant old man. The peace of his mind had a sweet influence upon his temper and beha- 396 NEARING HOME. viour. It kept him from being fretful and peevish in his family. He was loving to his children and kind to his servants, God himself being witness. He was also happy in his last years; for he spent them in faith, and when they came to an end he died in peace ; with his last breath he committed his spirit into the hands of him who had redeemed it, full of years; it is in the original one word — lie was satisfied; so it is rendered, Psa. xvii. 15, "As for me I shall behold thy face in righteousness ; I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness." He was satisfied with what he had enjoyed of the favour and friend- ship of his God ; who had been his shield to defend him from, all sins and enemies, and also had promised to be his exceeding great reward. This he obtained when he was gathered to his people, to the general assembly and Church of the first-born, and to the most blissful communion of the Three- One Jehovah. All the children of faithful Abraham, treading in the steps of his faith, have the same God to deal with, who keepeth promise for ever. It is recorded of Isaac, the heir of the same promise with his father, that he died in the same faith an old man. He was tried with many infirmities, but we read of no complaints, though he was an hundred and eighty years of age. He expired in praise and thankfulness, THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 397 satisfied with life, and happy in the prospect beyond death. And his son Jacob, an hundred and forty- seven years old, when he was dying declared that he had waited for the salvation of God. Waiting faith is strong faith. And after he had blessed his chil- dren, and had given commandment concerning his bones, he quietly, as if he had been going to sleep, gathered up his feet into the bed and died in peace, an old man and satisfied. All these lived in the world, strangers and pilgrims, looking for a city that hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. And they were not disappointed of their hope ; they all died in faith — in an act of faith — and were gathered to their people, to the general assembly and Church of the first-born. When they came to the end of their faith they came to heaven. The moment they expired they entered the city which God had prepared for them ; and their bodies sleeping in the dust are in the covenant of life, and shall be raised and glori fied in the morning of the resurrection. For our Lord proves that the dead shall rise from this very circumstance; he says to the Jews : "Have ye not read in the books of Moses, how in the bush God spake unto him, saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob ? He is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living." 398 NEABING HOME. In this faith the patriarchs died ; being children of the resurrection, they left their bodies in the hand and care of a covenant God, well assured that he would raise them up to glory and life everlasting, according to that good word wherein he had caused them to put their trust. These examples of the loving-kindness of God to his aged servants were recorded for our learning, that believers, if God by his providence should bring them to old age, might be encouraged to trust in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with such a con- fidence of their hearts as not to doubt of the divine truth or of the divine power. Whatever he was to them, he is the same to us — our Gocl as well as theirs — our covenant Gocl engaged to glorify both body and soul ; on whom we are commanded to cast all our cares and concerns in extreme old age. If what is of nature be failing, what is of grace cannot. If the life of sense be dying, the life of faith should flourish the more ; it is a life that cannot die ; for the branches thrive and bring forth fruit in their old age, not of themselves, but because they are engrafted into the heavenly vine, in which they live for ever. " I am the vine," says Jesus, " ye are the branches ; he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing." But THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 399 through his Spirit strengthening you, he will make you bud and flourish, and fill the face of the world with fruit. He will so fill you with the fruits of righteousness which are through Christ Jesus, to the glory and praise of God, that your last days shall be your best days. In this view of old age, it may become a favour- able time for exercising and improving faith, because the activity of the life of sense is abating, and thereby many things are removed which before obstructed the growth of the spiritual life. Now is the time to learn to walk by faith, and not by sense. A believer, young in years and young in experience, is often tempted to judge of himself by his feelings more than by the word of God. In a good frame he is a good believer. Then all is well with him. But when he is walking in darkness he is very apt to question his state — " If all be right with me, why am I thus? My present frame is very dull and uncomfortable ; I am not so lively as I used to be in prayer or in or- dinances ; my delight in God, and the things of God, is far short of what it was formerly — perhaps I have been deceiving myself, and crying, Peace, peace, when there was no peace for me." From this temptation age itself is a sort of de- liverance ; self-activity is weakened, and thereby, 400 HEARING HOME. through grace, self-clependence. The believer, if he be a good scholar, will now learn to walk more by faith and less by sight. The vigour of his senses is decaying. The high spirits of youth are abating. His present lesson is very plain and simple, and while he attends to what is passing in him and about him, he has a thousand monitors calling upon him now to learn and practise a perfect dependence on those things which are always one and the same, with- out any variableness or the least shadow of turning — one record of Grocl — one Saviour — one Spirit — one faith, of which the Saviour is the author and the fin- isher. This faith is made to grow and flourish, as there is less dependence on other things ; and as age itself tends to weaken this dependence, it becomes, in the hand of the Holy Spirit, a favourable time to live less upon the things which are seen, and more upon the things which are not seen. Less of sense, more of faith. One scale rises as the other falls. The outward man dying, the inward man grows more lively — yea, grows up into Christ Jesus, and that in all things. blessed old man ! thou hast lived to a good time when this is thy experience ; when in the prayer of faith thou canst cast all thy burdens on thy Saviour : " Lord, keep me, a poor helpless crea- ture ; now I feel that of myself I can do nothing as THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 401 I ought or as I wish to do. Glorify thy grace in me, and strengthen me mightily by thy Spirit in the in- ner man, that I may bless thee for thy salvation, and for the things which accompany salvation. Into thy faithful hands, for life and death, I commit myself and all my concerns ; for thou hast redeemed me, Lord, thou God of truth." But it must be remembered that old age does not produce these happy effects of itself. It is not of na- ture, but entirely of grace, that any one is able to gain such spiritual profit from bodily infirmities. The mere natural man, fortify him with all his boasted aids of reason and philosophy, yet cannot help murmuring when age brings weakness, and sickness brings pains. He becomes peevish and fret- ful. Having no friendship with God, he cannot look up for divine supports when all human begin to fail him. Under a severe fit of the stone, or a long fit of the gout, he is often out of all patience. Uneasy in himself, he is out of humour with everybody and everything. How different is the believer in the same circumstances ! His body feels pain as others' do ; but his mind is comfortable and at ease. Happy in God, he has patience given him to bear his sufferings, and grace to profit from them ; yea, the peace of God rules in his heart always and by all means. 51 402 NEARING HOME. An old man with this peace, which surpasseth all understanding, ruling in his heart, will be so far from complaining, that he has everything to be thank- ful for which can render him blessed of the Lord. He is provided with an infallible antidote against all that old age can try him with. It is true, I have an infirm body, but, thank God, I have a sound mind. Age has brought upon me great weakness, but this makes more room for the power of Grod, that it may be perfected in my weakness. I have many pains, but not so many as he has comforts to give me ; in the worst of them he keeps me patient. " Father, thy will be done." I have an afflicted body, but I have a happy heart ; although the outward man be per- ishing, yet I faint not, because the inward man is renewed day by day. My supports are great, the consolations of Grod not a few. I feel the symp- toms of old age warning me daily of my approach- ing dissolution. Through grace I take the warning. They find me living, and I hope they will find me dying, in the faith of the Son of Grod. The earthly tabernacle is taken down, but he does it with much tenderness and love, and assures me that he has pre- pared for me a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. May he who keeps it for me, and me for it, never leave me nor forsake me, till I be THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 403 with him, where he is, and be like him, and enjoy him for ever and ever ! Yet a very, very little while — hold on, faith and patience — and I shall see Jesus in his glory, which is the heaven of heavens. thou merciful and faithful High Priest, Jesus Christ, I bless thee for thy kind promises to the aged. Thou hast suited them in great mercy to all their infirmities, and thou art always with them to help in time of need. I begin to feel the sad effects of sin in my body, weakening it and tending to bring it down to its appointed end. To thee I look, almighty Jesus, for thy promised grace. grant me constant supplies of thy Spirit, that I may profit by my infirmities, may exercise and improve my faith in thee, that they may keep me humble, and I may pray more in faith ; and keep me thankful, that I may be more in praise. Thine arm is not shortened, nor can thy compassions fail. Stand by me then, and hold me up according to thy word. Make me strong in thy strength, that I may daily put more honour upon thy love and thy power. In the decline of life let me not doubt of thy faithful- ness to support, and, when thou seest it best, to com- fort me. Vouchsafe me the consolations of God; when my heart and my flesh fail me, then be thou 404 NEABING HOME. the strength of my heart and my portion for ever. When I am weakest in myself, then make me strongest in the Lord ; and if it be thy holy will that I should become quite helpless, an infant again, make me to lie quiet in thy hand without murmuring or repining, but believing that thou art all my salva- tion, and enjoying in thee all my desire. Grant me this, Lord Jesus ; for thy mercy's sake, let me die in faith. Amen and Amen. itih Wag. MISS JOSEPHINE POLLARD. A little way — I know it is not far To that dear home where my beloved are ; And yet my faith grows weaker, as I stand A poor, lone pilgrim in a dreary land, Where present pain the future bliss obscures ; And still my heart sits like a bird upon The empty nest, and mourns its treasures gone ; Plumed for their flight, And vanished quite. Ah ! me, where is the comfort ? — though I say They have but journeyed on a little way ! A little way — at times they seem so near, Their voices ever murmur at my ear ; To all my duties loving presence lend, And with sweet ministry my steps attend, And bring my soul the luxury of tears. 'Twas here we met, and parted company ; Why should their gain be such a grief to me ? This sense of loss ! This heavy cross ! 405 406 NEARING HOME. Dear Saviour, take the burden off, I pray, And show me heaven is but — a little way. These sombre robes, these saddened faces, all The bitterness and pain of death recall ; Ah ! let me turn my face where'er I may, I see the traces of a sure decay ; And parting takes the marrow out of life. Secure in bliss, we hold the golden chain, Which death, with scarce a warning, snaps in twain, And never more Shall time restore The broken links ; — 'twas only yesterday They vanished from our sight — a little way ! A little way ! — this sentence I repeat, Hoping and longing to extract some sweet To mingle with the bitter. From thy hand I take the cup I cannot understand, And in my weakness give myself to thee ! Although it seems so very, very far To that dear home where my beloved are, I know, I know, It is not so ; Oh ! give me faith to feel it when I say That they are gone — gone but a little way 1 import in &tnt\.* FROM THE GERMAN OF N. HERMANN. When now the solemn hour is nigh That from this world shall call me, On what, Lord, can I rely, While terrors would appal me ? My soul and body, to the last, I'll on thine arm of mercy cast, — 'Tis safe to trust thy mercy ! My sins may seem in number more, While conscience shall recount them, Than sands upon the ocean shore, — Thy grace can still surmount them. I'll think, dear Saviour, of the death Sustained by thee ; — and thus my faith From sinking shall uphold me. I am a branch of thee, the Vine ; My strength from thee I borrow ; Round thee my tendril hopes shall twine In death's drear night of sorrow : * Translated by Dr. Mills. 407 408 NEABING HOME. And when 'tis over, thou wilt give An endless life with thee to live In bliss thy sorrows purchased. My Lord o'er death triumphant rose, From earth to Grod ascended ; His victory yields my heart repose, The fear of death is ended ; For where he is, I too shall come, And find with him a joyful home : Why should I fear to follow ? With outstretched arms I'll welcome Christ, That he from earth may take me : I'll leave my flesh in hope to rest, Till from the grave he wake me ; But Christ himself will go before, — Of heaven for me throw wide the door, And bless my soul in glory. ANONYMOUS. How welcome to the aged Christian is the thought of heaven ! As the toil-worn labourer hails with gladness the hour of rest; as the wave-tossed mariner discerns with thankfulness the haven of safety ; as the weary exile approaches with feelings of rapture his native country; so does the believer rejoice in the immediate prospect of eternal glory. He loves to think of that moment when he shall be absent from the body and present with the Lord ; when the cares, the' conflicts, and the corruptions which surround him here will be exchanged for the peace and purity which pervade the everlasting abode of the redeemed. Varied are the attractions which draw his thoughts and affections thither. Deliverance from trouble, freedom from sin, increase of knowledge, separation from the ungodly, intercourse with the holy, commu- nion with his Saviour, — these and other delineations of the heavenly state make him ready, willing, eager to depart from the present life, and to enter upon that new and noble existence. 52 409 410 NEABING HOME. "My chief conception of heaven," said Robert Hall, who was an almost constant sufferer from acute bodily pain, "is rest" And many sons and daughters of affliction can respond to his remark. They have so much to do and to suffer, they see so much misery and discord around them, their spiritual foes are so powerful and persevering, that the sigh of the Psalm- ist is often heard from their lips : " Oh that I had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be at rest/'* Rest! Where? In heaven: there the weary are at rest. They rest from toil. From physical exertion and from mental labour. The hand no longer has to procure bread for the sustenance of life, and to pro- vide things honest in the sight of all men ; the head no longer has to plan for avoiding difficulties and distress, and to strive after a temporary relief from some of the cares of daily life. " They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more."f "They rest from their labours ; and their works do follow them. "J All fatigue and anxiety are for ever ended. They rest from pain. The inhabitant of that heavenly city shall not say, I am sick; "neither shall there be any more pain : for the former things are passed away."§ " I shall soon be at home now," * Psalm lv. 6. f Rev. vii. 16. % Rev. xiv. 13. § Rev. xxi. 4. THE HEAVENLY REST. 411 said an aged Christian woman, who had been for many years afflicted with a painful disease, "and then all suffering will be over. I hope I am not im- patient ; I am willing to bear whatever God sends, and as long as he sends it ; I know he is love. But it is very sweet sometimes, when my poor body is racked with pain and I cannot get a minute's relief, to think that I am every day nearer heaven, and to feel that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed. What a change it will be !" They rest from sorrow. " God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying."* Yes ; God him- self shall wipe away their tears. The days of their mourning will be for ever ended, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Want, disappointment, care, unkindness, injustice, bereavement, and every other source of earthly distress, are unknown in heaven. The waves of grief cannot pass the confines of eternity. The clouds of sadness cannot float in the clear atmosphere of heaven. The voice of lamenta- tion and weeping can never mingle with the songs of the redeemed. They rest from spiritual conflict. Life is a period * Rev. xxi. 4. 412 NEABING HOME. of warfare and trial. The foes of the Christian are many and they are mighty. His own unsubdued passions, the world, with its temptations on the one hand and its reproaches on the other, and the great adversary of mankind going about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, are continually arrayed against him ; and he must be always upon his guard, always ready for the encounter. Nor does he, except in occasional moments of discomfiture and depression, shrink from the battle-field. It is his earnest desire to fight the good fight of faith, and to endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. To ask for victory and rest from a mere love of selfish ease is inconsistent with his principles and feelings. God has called him to the contest, and when he sees fit will call him to his reward ; till then he is willing to wait and toil and struggle on. His prayer is that when his Lord comes he may find him watching. This is a right spirit. We ought not to grow weary in well-doing. We ought not to wish for our crown before our conflict is ended. But at the same time we may look forward to our rest with hope and glad- ness. In the midst of our conflict with evil we may soothe and refresh our spirits with the thought of final victory. As we press forward in our heaven- ward journey, encompassed by difficulties and beset THE HEAVENLY BEST. 413 with dangers, we may rejoice in the consideration that "We nightly fix our moving tent A day's march nearer home !" Yes : our warfare will soon be over — our rest at- tained. And how cheering is the reflection that holiness as well as rest is linked with our anticipations of heaven ! Nothing that clefileth can enter there. The Church above is " a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing ; but holy and without blemish."* The Christian, it is true, is already sanc- tified by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. Sin has no longer dominion over him ; for the grace of God, which bringeth salvation, teaches him to deny un- godliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, right- eously and godly in this present world. His heart is purified by faith. He has put on the new man, which, after God, is created in righteousness and true holiness. He has been adopted into God's family, renewed in his image, and made a partaker of his holiness. But as yet how imperfect is the resem blance which he bears ! how feeble are the attain- ments which he has made! While he delights in the law of God after the inward man, he sees another * Eph. v. 27. 414 NEARING HOME. law in his members warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin, so that in the anguish of his spirit he exclaims with the apostle, " wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"* Day by day he presses toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of Grod in Christ Jesus, but he is often sore let and hindered in running the race that is set before him ; sometimes he stumbles and falls ; and sometimes he wanders into some by-path which leads him into distress and danger ; and although he never gives up, although each revival of the sin which so easily besets him — each temptation to which through unwatchfulness and self-dependence he yields — only prompts him to more prayerful and vigorous efforts for the future, can we wonder if he anticipates with eagerness and delight the moment when he shall be freed from the defilement and im- perfection of his present condition, and be perfectly conformed to the image of his Saviour? Oh, to have his will entirely absorbed in God's will ; to have every thought in unison with his mind ; to have self for ever lost sight of in the radiance of his glory ; to be holy and unblamable, and unreprovable in his presence ! How delightful is this prospect ! * Rom. vii. 24. THE HEAVENLY REST. 415 how all-sustaining is this hope ! And as years in- crease, as life declines, his desire after perfected holi- ness grows stronger and stronger, until it overcomes his fear of death and weakens the fondest ties which link him to earth. He is ready to leave all around him, and to press through all before him, in order that he may be separated from sin and be completely assimilated to the likeness of Christ. " We shall be like him !" is the thought — the glorious thought — which makes heaven so precious in his estimation. He longs more for purity than he does for rest. He wants to be holy, sinless, perfected. His desire will soon be granted, his hope realized. " Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness ; for they shall be filled." Filled ? Satisfied? Yes. When? In part now, in com- pleteness hereafter. In heaven they hunger no more, neither thirst any more: they are restored to the image of their Grod, and are faultless before his throne. And then how delightful to the thoughtful and in- quiring Christian — and every Christian ought to sus- tain this character — is the assurance that in a future state our knoivledge will be greatly increased ! In this world how limited are our highest acquirements ! We are like children playing on the sea- shore, and 416 NEARINQ SOME. diverting ourselves, now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lies all undiscovered before us. But what we know not now, we shall know hereafter. JSTow we see through a glass darkly ; now we know but in part ; but then we shall see face to face, and know even as we are known. Many deeply interest- ing and important questions which are unanswered now will be solved then. Many difficulties which perplex us now will be explained then. How nu- merous are the mysteries in Providence, both in con- nection with our own history and with the history of others, which will then be unravelled! How varied are the mysteries in religion which will then be clear to us as the light of noonday ! And our knowledge will be ever increasing. The first glance into eternity will not reveal to us all that it has to unfold. We shall be always learning something new — continually making fresh discoveries of the wisdom and power and goodness of God. And this without weariness, without effort, without disap- pointment. Associated with the perfected development and probable augmentation of our intellectual powers, is the noble and uninterrupted service in which we shall be engaged above. Alas ! how feeble and how poor THE HEAVENLY REST. 417 are our best attempts now for the fulfilment of God's will and the promotion of his glory! How little, comparatively have we done ; how little can we do to make him known and loved among our fellow-men ! Frequently do we mourn over our weakness and ap- parent uselessness, and feel that we are indeed un- profitable servants. But in heaven our service will be vigorous, perpetual, untiring. There the weary will be at rest, not because they cease to labour, but because labour brings no fatigue; and they that " have entered into rest" will find this to be their rest, that " they rest not day and night."* Each glorified servant will doubtless be occupied in the manner which is most accordant with his in- dividual bias and qualification. As the cherubim and seraphim are supposed to have their separate and appropriate offices, though all stand round the throne, so may we expect that holy engagements will be dis- tributed in amazing diversity among the white-robed saints. But this will be the delight, that each one occupies his own, his proper, his favourite employ- ment — that for which his being is made ; no nerve strained ; no part burdened ; no power taxed ; but all easy, enjoyable, delicious, the very part he would have chosen ; the part he loves ; the part he can do *Rev. iv. 8. 53 118 NEABING HOME. best, assigned to him for ever and ever. And in this, his own proper province, each one will exercise his whole perfected being. Whatever he loves he will understand, and whatever he understands he will love ; and both his mind and his will will take effect through the instrumentality of a body which is in complete unison with his spirit ; never cumbering it, never darkening it, but instant and capable to do everything which the thought desires or the heart suggests ; so that it will be a perfectly intelligent affection, performing without diminution and without delay all it thinks and all it feels. Then shall we understand, in that entire concurrence of all the pro- perties which make the creature, what is the mean- ing of that service of which Christ spoke, when he said, " God is a Spirit ; and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth."* And as we think of all the high functions and happy services of those in glory, shall we not re- member those loved ones among their number who were once co-workers with us here, and rejoice in the thought that we shall ere long share in their holy occupations and participate in their fadeless joys? The communion of saints on earth is sweet, but what will it be in heaven ? Here there is much to mar * John iv. 24. THE HEAVENLY BEST. 419 and interrupt it ; there it will be perfect and per- petual. We shall be associated with " the glorious company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the prophets, and the noble army of martyrs ;" we shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God. We shall share in the high and holy converse of those esteemed by us on earth for the beautiful graces and gifts which adorned their character, and become intimately acquainted with others long endeared to us by their labours and their worth, but who, through time or varied circumstances, were personally unknown to us. And there will be no discord, no prejudices, no rivalry to disturb the harmony of our intercourse. We shall dwell to- gether as the children of one Father, as the brethren of one family, as the loved and loving inhabitants of one eternal home. But dearer, far dearer, than the thought of this complete and tender sympathy with all the redeemed in glory, is the prospect of that perfect and constant communion with our Saviour which his promises now unfold to our view. " I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also;" "Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am ; that they may behold my glory which thou hast given 420 NEABING HOME. me."* Well might one of Christ's tried and hon- oured servants, in the simple meditations which she penned as she waited for her summons to pass over the river, write : "To be where thou art, to see thee as thou art, and to be made like unto thee ; the last sinful mo- tion for ever past ; no more opposition ; no more weari - ness, listlessness, dryness, or deadness; but conformed to my blessed Saviour, every way capacitated to serve him, to enjoy him, — this is heaven." And well might her glowing words animate the faith and hope of that devoted missionary of the cross who was called, when at the foot of Mount Lebanon, to encounter the last enemy. His friends having proposed to pray with him, he replied, " Yes ; but first I wish you to read some passages from ' Mrs. Graham's Provision for Passing over Jordan ;' " and on hearing the words, " To be where thou art, to see thee as thou art, to be made like unto thee," he anticipated the conclusion, and said, with an expressive emphasis, " That is heaven !" Yes, to be with Christ, to see him as he is, that indeed is heaven. In our converse with him now by faith we rejoice with joy that is unspeakable and full of glory; what, then, will be our emotions when that glory is realized and his presence is attained ? * John xiv. 3 ; xvii. 24. THE HEAVENLY BEST. 421 "Not all things else are half so dear As converse with the Saviour here ; What must it be in heaven ? 'Tis heaven on earth to hear him say, As now I journey day by day, Poor sinner, cast thy fears away : Thy sins are all forgiven. "But how will his celestial voice Make my enraptured heart rejoice ; When I in glory hear him ! While I before the heavenly gate For everlasting entrance wait. And Jesus on his throne of state Invites me to come near him. ' ' Reader, is this happy, this heart-cheering antici- pation yours? What proof can you give of your title to mansions in the skies? Is "Christ in you, the hope of glory?"* Have you "the earnest of the Spirit ?"f Are you "made meet to be partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light ?"J Then, " rejoice in hope of the glory of Grod."§ Your warfare will soon be accomplished, your labours ended, your rest begun. Now is your salvation nearer than when you believed. A little while and you shall tread the golden streets of the holy city ; you shall eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the paradise of God, and drink of the pure crystal * Col. i. 27. f 2 Cor. v. 5. % Col. i. 12. I Rom. v. 2. 422 WEARING HOME. river which proceeds out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. A crown of glory shall be yours, and the waving palm of victory ; you shall hear the voice of harpers harping with their harps, and you shall join in their ever-new and triumphant song: " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."* "In thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleas- ures for evermore, "f Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, be diligent that ye may be found of him in peace. J " Walk worthy of God, who hath called you unto his kingdom and glory."§ Remember, that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord."|| And the well-grounded hope of future blessedness necessarily leads to present sanctification. " Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as He is pure."^| The " exceeding great and precious promises" are given to us, not only that we may be gladdened and comforted by them, but also that we may be made partakers of the divine nature, and escape "the corruption that is in the world through lust."** "When Christ, who is our life, *Rev. v. 12. fPsa. xvi. 11. % 2 Pet. iii. 14. §1 Thess. ii. 12. II Heb. xii. 14. IT 1 John iii. 3. ** 2 Pet. i. 4. THE HEAVENLY BEST. 423 shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory. Mortify, therefore, your members which are upon the earth."* Weary and sorrowful pilgrim, the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed. Let the radiance of coming joys illumine the clouds of present grief; let the melody of heaven -breathed songs soothe the agi- tation of your troubled spirit. Oh, your " light afflic- tion is but for a moment," and it " worketh for you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; while you look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things which are not seen are eternal. "f Aged Christian, the time of your departure is at hand. The sunset of life and the night of death usher in the dawn of immortality. The earthly house of your tabernacle is about to be dissolved, but you have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. " Blessed be the Grod and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible * CoL.iii. 4, 5. f 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18. 424 NEARING HOME. and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time : wherein ye greatly rejoice !"* Listen to the words of your ascended and glorified Saviour : u Surely I come quickly !" What is your earnest and heartfelt response ? "Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus !"f * 1 Pet. i. 3-6. t Kev. xxii. 20, 21. f$* |yjeir %tlitbtt at t\t Sate xrf ^mbm. THOMAS GUTHRIE, D. D. I'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint and sore ; Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the door; Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come To the glory of his presence, to the gladness of his home. A weary path I've travelled, 'mid darkness, storm and strife ; Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life ; But now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be o'er; I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the door. Methinks I hear the voices of the blessed as they stand, Singing in the sunshine in the far-off sinless land ; Oh, would that I were with them, amid their shining throng, Mingling in their worship, joining in their song ! 54 425 426 NEABING HOME. The friends that started with me have entered long ago; One by one they left me struggling with the foe ; Their pilgrimage was shorter, their triumph sooner won; How lovingly they'll hail me when all my toil is done! With them the blessed angels that know nor grief nor sin ; I see them by the portals, prepared to let me in. Lord, I wait thy pleasure ; thy time and way are best; But I am wasted, worn, and weary; Father, bid me rest. $ttitt feWttirg, REV. JOHN NEWTON. The promised land of peace Faith keeps in constant view : How different from the wilderness We now are passing through ! Here often from our eyes Clouds hide the light divine ; There we shall have unclouded skies, Our Sun will always shine ! Here griefs, and cares, and pains, And fears distress us sore ; But there eternal pleasure reigns, And we shall weep no more. Lord, pardon our complaints ; We follow at thy call ; The joy prepared for suffering saints Will make amends for all. 427 •rattimra is watr< A. D. F. RANDOLPH. Our grandmamma is dead, Aggie : hear, Aggie, what I say :— My dear grandma is dead, and now her soul is gone away. It seems so strange without her, how strange I can- not tell ; She was often sick and tired, she is rested now and well. Sometimes I stop and wonder that her face I do not see, And sometimes I forget myself and ask where can she be ? She never made a bit of noise, she talked so sweet and low ; And yet our house seems stiller now, no matter where we go. 428 GRANDMA IS DEAD. 429 She loved us children, Aggie ; there are three of us in all ; The oldest is my sister Jane ; and Will is strong and tall; And I am twelve ; and all of us she used to rock to sleep, When we were little, tiny things, and couldn't even creep. I miss her more and more, Aggie, — -don't wonder that I cry ; She went without my kissing her— I did not say good-bye ; — For on the morning that she died, so did my father say, She shut her eyes and went to sleep, and slept her life away ! I'd like to tell her, if but once, and so would brother Will, We are sorry for our naughty ways, — how much we love her still. That's where she used to sit, when he would creep behind the place, And take the glasses from her eyes and feel her wrinkled face. 430 NEARING HOME. She was very old and very lame, Aggie ; sometimes was full of pain ; She never once was cross to us, or really did com- plain : Once, long ago, when she was sick, she said, I heard it so, • " Come, Lord, and take me home to heaven, for now I long to go." The day she died was stormy, and when my father prayed, He thanked the Lord for helping her that she was not afraid : I knew she was not ; many a time she did us children tell That those who love him when they die shall go with Christ to dwell. Now when I read the Bible, and about that happy place, I think that she is there, and not a wrinkle on her face ; I know she is not lame or old, that there she has no pain ; Yet somehow I keep wishing she was back with us again ! GRANDMA IS BEAD. 431 Oh, how my mother misses her! I often see her cry ;— My father tries to comfort her, and so do Jane and I ; I do not wonder, it's so strange with grandma gone away, But G-od is good, my father says, and so she used to say! I keep trying to remember that he is our Father too, And like my father here, I'm sure he nothing wrong will do ; So, Aggie, though I can't but cry, it is all right, you know ; — The Lord he wanted her to come, and she was glad to go. totging txfitt $mbm. DE FLEURY. Ye angels, who stand round the throne, And view my Immanuel's face, In rapturous songs make him known ; Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise. He formed you the spirits you are, So happy, so noble, so good ; While others sunk down in despair, Confirmed by his power ye stood. Ye saints, who stand nearer than they, And cast your bright crowns at his feet, His grace and his glory display, And all his rich mercy repeat ; He snatched you from hell and the grave, He ransomed from death and despair ; For you he was mighty to save, Almighty to bring you safe there. Oh, when will the period appear When I shall unite in your song ? 432 LONGING AFTER HEAVEN. 433 I'm weary of lingering here, And I to your Saviour belong. I'm fettered and chained up in clay; I struggle and pant to be free ; I long to be soaring away, My Grod and my Saviour to see. I want to put on my attire, Washed white in the blood of the Lamb ; I want to be one of your choir, And tune my sweet harp to his name : I want — oh I want to be there, Where sorrow and sin bid adieu, Your joy and your friendship to share, To wonder and worship with you. 55 grossing t\t fitter. REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. "When thou passest through the waters," &c. — Isa. xliii. 2. Solemn and still are the watchers pale, And quietly steal the hours away ; Heavily droopeth the empty sail, Silent the green where the children play. The curtains are drawn in the chamber of death, Through the sheltering vine faint sunbeams fall ; The watchers bow, with long-drawn breath, Casting weird shadows along the wall. On poised wings, lo ! the angels wait, And the Ancient of Days is there, Who pointeth afar to a golden gate, As faltering lips move in fervent prayer : " Jesus, my All-in-all ! To thee I cry ; The deep'ning shadows fall From yonder sky. 434 CBOSSING THE BIVJEB. 435 Lead me, Saviour dear, Through death's dark rolling tide, Let faith not yield to fear, But strong abide. " Thy footsteps, Lord, I see Along the shore, And here I wait for thee To guide me o'er. Lead me, Saviour dear, To yonder sunlit land ; Let faith not yield to fear ; Take thou my hand. " Higher the waters rise, The billows roll ; Oh calm the stormy skies, Save thou my soul ! Ah ! now I see thy face, Thy loving words I hear, I praise thee for thy grace, I shall not fear." " It shall be well," said the dying saint, And Jesus took his outstretched hand, Who uttered words of tenclerest cheer, And sweetly spake of the glory-land. 436 NEARING HOME. Enraptured we watched till the curt'ning clouds Concealed them all from our wondering sight ; Then the ringing of bells, and anthems loud, Told of the welcome from saints in light. *£* *t* *■£* *?•* »!-* *!■* *j» *$» *j* *x* »£• W$i Solemn and still are the mourners pale, And quietly steal the hours away ; Heavily droopeth the empty sail, Silent the green where the children play. There's a new-made grave in the churchyard old, At the family hearth a vacant chair ; There's gloom in the home, on field and wold, But radiant glory in the voiceless air. Liveth the sire in love's inner shine, Cherished shall be the mem'ries of yore, Linked with the light that was wont to shine On the old arm-chair by the cottage door. mcnbtu. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. That clime is not like this dull clime of ours : All, all is brightness there ; A sweeter influence breathes around its bowers, And a far milder air. No calm below is like that calm above ; No region here is like that realm of love ; Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light ; Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. That sky is not, like this sad sky of ours, Tinged with earth's change and care ; No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers ; No broken sunshine there ! One everlasting stretch of azure pours Its stainless splendour o'er those sinless shores ; For there Jehovah reigns with heavenly ray ; There Jesus reigns, dispensing endless clay. The dwellers there are not like those of earth — No mortal stain they bear; 437 438 NEABINQ HOME. And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, — Whence and how came they there ? Earth was their native soil; from sin and shame Through tribulation they to glory came ; Bond slaves, delivered from sin's crushing load; Brands, plucked from burning by the hand of God. Those robes of theirs are not like those below ; Wo angel's half so bright ! Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow ? Whence came that radiant white ? Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, Fair as the light those robes of theirs became ; And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, They wander where the freshest pastures lie, Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky. ANONYMOUS. Here, 'mid death and danger, mournfully we stay, Everything around us yielding to decay ; But in the better country, sin's dark triumph o'er, All things are enduring — life for evermore. Here, with weary footsteps, in a desert waste, Strangers in a strange land, we pass through in haste ; Tliere our rest awaits us, our hearts are gone before, In that land of brightness — rest for evermore ! Here our courage faileth in the storms of life, Our hearts are sad and anxious, ruffled in the strife ; There the tempest endeth, the billows cease to roar, — All is calm and tranquil — peace for evermore ! Here amid our sadness silence often reigns, Or our voices mingle in low and plaintive strains; There no chord of sadness shall wake an echo more, — Heaven itself resoundeth — song for evermore ! 439 440 ' NEABING HOME. Here amid our sorrow sighs are often heard, Fondest hearts are parted, sick with hope deferred ; There no tear-drop falleth, hearts are never sore, All is joy and gladness — joy for evermore ! Here 'mid deepening shadows, wearily we roam, Looking for the day-star, the bright light of home ; There the clouds shall vanish, the night of weeping o'er, When the sun ariseth — light for evermore ! Only a little longer have we to trust and wait E'er we reach the portals, pass the pearly gate, Hear the shout of welcome from loved ones gone be- fore, In our Father's mansion — home for evermore ! &at a anir. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. Theee is a land where beauty will not fade, JN"or sorrow dim the eye ; Where true hearts will not sink nor be dismayed, And love will never die. Tell me — I fain would go, — For I am burdened with a heavy woe ; The beautiful have left me all alone ; The true, the tender, from my path have gone, And I am weak and fainting with despair ; Where is it ? tell me, where ? Friend, thou must trust in Him who trod before The desolate path of life ; Must bear in meekness, as he meekly bore, Sorrow, and toil, and strife. Think how the Son of G-od These thorny paths has trod ; Yet tarried out for thee the appointed woe ; Think of his loneliness in places dim, When no man comforted or cared for him ; 56 441 442 NEABINO HOME. Think how he prayed, unaided and alone, In that dread agony, " Thy will be done !" Friend, do thou not despair, Christ, in his heaven of heavens, will hear thy prayer. rager for Bnt §,tmin$ Muofytv Iffflrito. * ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. most merciful God! I rejoice that thou clost reign over the universe with a sovereign sway, so that thou dost according to thy will in the armies of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth. Thou art the Maker of my body and Father of my spirit, and thou hast a perfect right to dispose of me in that manner which will most effectually promote thy glory ; and I know that whatsoever thou dost is right and wise, and just and good. And whatever may be my eternal destiny, I rejoice in the assurance that thy great name will be glorified in me. But as thou hast been pleased to reveal thy mercy and thy grace to our fallen, miserable world, and as the word of this salvation has been preached unto me, inviting me to accept of eternal life upon the gracious terms of the gospel, I do cordially receive the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour and only Redeemer, believing *From " Thoughts on Religious Experience, "published by the Pres- byterian Board of Publication. 443 444 NEABINQ HOME. sincerely the whole testimony which thou hast given respecting his divine character, his real incarnation, his unspotted and holy life, his numerous and bene- ficent miracles, his expiatory and meritorious death, and his glorious resurrection and ascension. I be- lieve, also, in his supreme exaltation, in his preva- lent intercession for his chosen people, in his affec- tionate care and aid afforded to his suffering members here below, and in his second coming to receive his humble followers to dwell with himself in heaven, and to take vengeance on his obstinate enemies. My only hope and confidence of being saved rests simply on the mediatorial work and prevailing inter- cession of the Lord Jesus Christ ; in consequence of which the Holy Spirit is graciously sent to make application of Christ's redemption by working faith in us and repentance unto life, and rendering us meet for the heavenly inheritance by sanctifying us in the whole man, soul, body, and spirit. Grant, gracious Grod! that the rich blesssings of the new covenant may be freely bestowed on thy unworthy servant. I acknowledge that I have no claim to thy favour on account of any goodness in me by nature, for, alas ! there dwelleth in me, that is in my flesh, no good thing ; nor on account of any works of right- eousness done by me, for all our righteousnesses are PRATER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD. 445 as filthy rags. Neither am I able to make atone- ment for any one of my innumerable transgressions ; which, I confess before thee, are not only many in number, but heinous in their nature, justly deserving thy displeasure and wrath, so that if I were imme- diately sent to hell thou wouldst be altogether just in my condemnation. Although I trust that I have endeavoured to serve thee with some degree of sin- cerity, yet whatever good thing I have ever done, or even thought, I ascribe entirely to thy grace, without which I can do nothing acceptable in thy sight. And I am deeply convinced that my best duties have fallen far short of the perfection of thy law, and have been so mingled with sin in the performance that I might justly be condemned for the most fer- vent prayer I ever made. And I would confess with shame and contrition that I am not only chargeable with sin in the act, but that there is a law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, aim- ing to bring me into captivity to the laAV of sin and death. This corrupt nature is the source of innu- merable evil thoughts and desires, and damps the exercise of faith and love, and stands in the way of well-doing, so that when I would do good, evil is present with me. And so deep and powerful is this remaining depravity that all efforts to eradicate or 446 NEABING HOME. subdue it are vain without the aid of divine grace. And when at any time I obtain a glimpse of the depth and turpitude of the sin of my nature I am overwhelmed, and constrained to exclaim with Job, " I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes." And now, Righteous Loed God Almighty, I would not attempt to conceal any of my actual transgres- sions, however vile and shameful they are, but would penitently confess them before thee; and would plead in my defence nothing but the perfect righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, who died, the just for the unjust, to bring us near to Glod. For his sake alone do I ask or expect the rich blessings necessary to my salvation. For although I am un- worthy, he is most worthy ; though I have no right- eousness, he has provided by his expiatory death, and by his holy life, a complete justifying right- eousness, in which spotless robe I pray that I may be clothed ; so that thou, my righteous Judge, wilt see no sin in me, but wilt acquit me from every accusa- tion, and justify me freely by thy grace, through the righteousness of my Lord and Saviour, with whom thou art ever well pleased. And my earnest prayer is, that Jesus may save me from my sins, as well as from their punishment ; that I may be redeemed from all iniquity, as well as from the condemnation of the PRAYER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD. 447 law ; that the work of sanctification may be carried on in my soul by thy word and Spirit, until it be perfected at thine appointed time. And grant, Lord ! that as long as I am in the body I may make it my constant study and chief aim to glorify thy name, both with soul and body, which are no longer mine, but thine; for I am "bought with a price" — ■ not with silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot. Enable me to let my light so shine that others, seeing my good works, may be led to glorify thy name. Oh make use of me as an humble in- strument of advancing thy kingdom on earth and promoting the salvation of immortal souls. If thou hast appointed suffering for me here below, I beseech thee to consider my weakness, and let thy chastise- ments be those of a loving father, that I may be made partaker of thy holiness. And let me not be tempted above what I am able to bear, but with the temptation make a way for escape. most merciful God ! cast me not off in the time of old age ; forsake me not when my strength de- clineth. Now, when I am old and gray-headed, for- sake me not ; but let thy grace be sufficient for me, and enable me to bring forth fruit even in old age. May my hoary head be found in the ways of right- 448 NEABING HOME. eousness ! Preserve my mind from dotage and im- becility, and my body from protracted disease and excruciating pain. Deliver me from despondency and discouragement in my declining years, and en- able me to bear affliction with patience, fortitude, and perfect submission to thy holy will. Lift upon me perpetually the light of thy reconciled countenance, and cause me to rejoice in thy salvation and in the hope of thy glory. May the peace that passeth all understanding be constantly diffused through my soul, so that my mind may remain calm through all the storms and vicissitudes of life. As, in the course of nature, I must be drawing near to my end, and as I know I must soon put off this tabernacle, I do humbly and earnestly beseech thee, Father of mercies, to prepare me for this in- evitable and solemn event. Fortify my mind against the terrors of death. Give me, if it please thee, an easy passage through the gate of death. Dissipate the dark clouds and mists which naturally hang over the grave, and lead me gently down into the gloomy valley. my kind Shepherd, who hast tasted the bitterness of death for me, and who knowest how to sympathize with and succour the sheep of thy pas- ture, be thou present to guide, to support, and to comfort me. Illumine with beams of heavenly light PBAYEB FOB ONE NEABING ANOTHER WOBLD. 449 the valley and shadow of death, so that I may fear no evil. When heart and flesh fail, be thou the strength of my heart and my portion for ever. Let not my courage fail in the trying hour. Permit not the great adversary to harass my soul in the last struggle, but make me a conqueror and more than a conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that my reason may be continued to the last, and, if it be thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported that I may leave a testimony in favour of the reality of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy gra- cious promises ; and that others of thy servants who may follow after may be encouraged by my example to commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keeping of the Shepherd of Israel. And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, Lord Jesus, receive it. Send some of the blessed angels to convoy my inexperienced soul to the man- sion which thy love has prepared. And oh ! let me be so situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may behold thy glory. May I have an abundant entrance administered unto me into the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; for whose sake and in whose name I ask all these things. Amen. 57 §0ir of mg fJimt^ ISAAC WATTS, D. D. G-od of my childhood and my youth, The guide of all my days, I have declared thy heavenly truth, And told thy wondrous ways. Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs, And leave my fainting heart ? Who shall sustain my sinking years If God, my strength, depart? Let me thy power and truth proclaim Before the rising age, And leave a savour of thy name When I shall quit the stage. The land of silence and of death Attends my next remove ; Oh may these poor remains of breath Teach the wide world thy love ! 450 GOD OF MY YOUTH. 451 By long experience have I known Thy sovereign power to save ; At thy command I venture down Securely to the grave. When I lie buried deep in dust, My flesh shall be thy care ; These withered limbs with thee I trust, To raise them strong and fair. ttocwlir not ftibt jtlhmg. WILLIAM A. MUHLENBERG, D. D. I would not live alway, — I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin, Temptation without, and corruption within ; The rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, The cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. I would not live alway — no, welcome the tomb ! Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom ; There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise, To hail him in triumph descending the skies. Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, Where rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, And the noontide of glory eternally reigns, — 452 J WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. 453 Where saints of all ages in harmony meet, Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet ; Where anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul? Stye §xrrir's mg i^ep^rir. ROUSE. Psalm xxiii. The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want ; He makes me down to lie In pastures green : he leadeth me The quiet waters by. My soul he doth restore again, And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness, E'en for his own name's sake. Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear no ill ; For thou art with me, and thy rod And staff me comfort still. Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me, And in Grod's house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be. fyt pilgrim's ftattj, ANONYMOUS. I'm but a stranger here ; Heaven is my home. Earth is a desert drear ; Heaven is my home. Danger and sorrow stand Round me on every hand ; Heaven is my Father-land ; Heaven is my home. What though the tempest rage ! Heaven is my home. Short is my pilgrimage ; Heaven is my home. And time's wild wintry blast Will soon be overpast ; I shall reach home at last ; Heaven is my home. There, at my Saviour's side — Heaven is my home, 455 456 NEABING HOME. I shall be glorified ; Heaven is my home. Then with the good and blest, Those I loved most and best, I shall for ever rest ; Heaven is my home. Therefore I'll murmur not — Heaven is my home. Whate'er my earthly lot, Heaven is my home. For I shall surely stand There, at my Lord's right hand ; Heaven is my Father-land ; Heaven is my home. 0rn anir fftsarg. S. ROBERTS. My feet are worn and weary with the march Over the road and up the steep hill-side ; Oh ! city of our God, I fain would see Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide. My hands are weary toiling, toiling on Day after day for perishable meat ; Oh ! city of our God, I fain would rest — I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat. My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust, Oft rent by briars and thorns that crowd my way, Would fain be made, Lord, my righteousness, Spotless and white in heaven's unclouded day. My heart is weary of its own deep sin, — Sinning, repenting, sinning still again ; When shall my soul thy glorious presence feel, And find, dear Saviour, it is free from stain ? 58 457 458 NEABING HOME. Patience, poor soul ! the Saviour's feet were worn ; The Saviour's heart and hands were weary too, His garments stained, and travel-worn, and old, His vision blinded with a pitying dew. Love thou the path of sorrow that he trod ; Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest ! Oh ! city of our Grod, we soon shall see Thy glorious walls, — home often loved and blest ! LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. When adverse winds and waves arise, And in my heart despondence sighs ; When life her throng of cares reveals, And weakness o'er my spirit steals, Grateful I hear the kind decree, That " as my day, my strength shall be." When, with sad footsteps, memory roves 'Mid smitten joys and buried loves, When sleep my tearful pillow flies, And dewy morning drinks my sighs, Still to thy promise, Lord, I flee, That " as my day, my strength shall be." One trial more must yet be past, One pang — the keenest and the last} And when, with brow convulsed and pale, My feeble, quivering heart-strings fail, Redeemer ! grant my soul to see That " as my day, my strength shall be." 459 £a WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. There is an hour of peaceful rest To mourning wanderers given ; There is a joy for souls distressed — A balm for every wounded breast ; 'Tis found above — in heaven ! There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven — When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise and ocean rolls, And all is drear but heaven ! There faith lifts up the tearful eye, The heart with anguish riven ; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene in heaven ! There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, And joys supreme are given ; There rays divine disperse the gloom : Beyond the confines of the tomb Appears the dawn of heaven ! 460 CHARLOTTE ELLIOT. My God, my Father, while I stray Far from my home in life's rough way, Oh teach me from my heart to say, " Thy will be done !" Though dark my path, and sad my lot, Let me be still and murmur not, But breathe the prayer divinely taught, " Thy will be done !" What though in lonely grief I sigh, For friends beloved, no longer nigh, Submissive still would I reply, " Thy will be done !" If thou should'st call me to resign What I most prize — it ne'er was mine; I only yield thee what was thine — " Thy will be done !" 461 462 NEABING HOME. Should pining sickness waste away My life in premature decay, My Father, still I strive to say, " Thy will be done !" If but my fainting heart be blest With thy sweet Spirit for its guest, My God, to thee I leave the rest — " Thy will he done !" Renew my will from day to day, Blend it with thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, " Thy will be done !" Then when on earth I breathe no more The prayer oft mixed with tears before, I'll sing upon a happier shore, " Thy will be done !" tor mom*. ANONYMOUS. Life's sun a longer shadow throws, And all things whisper of repose ; Our toilsome journey soon will close, And we shall reach our home ! Here we no resting-place have found ; Unnumbered dangers lurk around, Temptations, snares, and griefs abound ; Earth cannot be our home. On let us press with cheerful haste, Nor precious moments idly waste ; For, oh ! we long those joys to taste Which are reserved at home. Only a narrow stream doth flow Between this dreary waste of woe And that fair land where richly grow The lovely flowers of home. 463 464 NEABING HOME. Its peaceful waters softly glide, And Christ through them our steps will guide, And land us on the other side, Where we shall be at home. Some cherished friends have gone before; Their conflicts and their toils are o'er, And we shall meet to part no more, "When we have gained our home. Their songs of welcome, sweet and clear, Will soon be falling on our ear; For we are drawing very near Unto our ha^y home. No clouds of sorrow gather there ; Hushed is the latest thought of care ; Perpetual joys those loved ones share Within our Father's home. Life's sun a longer shadow throws* And all things whisper of repose ; Our toilsome journey soon will close, And we shall reach our home. THE END. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proces Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Oct. 2005 PreservationTechnologie A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIO 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 I I W I il***. - . ■ V'?.J*1c. ■ ■ ■ ; ■fv-V I • Hi ■ *-# ■ : --'V.: ^H ■ ^m ■