YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE LIBRARY OF THE
DIVINITY SCHOOL

MOSES, THE SERVANT OF THE LORD.

A SERMON

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BROOKLYN, N. Y.

On Sabbath, August 15th, 1858,

BY REV. HENRY J. VAN DYKE, PASTOR.

PUBLISHED BY BEQUEST.

NEW YORK:
FRENCH & WHEAT, BOOK AND JOB PRINTERS, 18 ANN STREET.
1858.

Yale Divinity Library
New Haven, Conn.

Brooklyn, August 20th, 1858.

Rev. H. J. Van Dyke :

Dear Sir : — Believing that the cause of Christ may be promoted
by the publication of the discourse you delivered to your people on Sabbath
morning last, we earnestly desire you will furnish a copy for that purpose.
We shall cherish its possession as another of the delightful mementoes of
your ministry among us. Very truly yours, J. LEDYARD,
HENRY BUTLER,
HENRY SHELDON,
W. S. DUNHAM,
JNO. SCRYMSER,
HENRY S. HILL,
GEO. S. SAMPSON,
JOHN LAIDLAW.

Brooklyn, August 23d, 1858.

To Messrs. Ledyard, Butler, Sheldon, and others.
Gentlemen — My discourse was prepared with an honest purpose to promote
the cause of Christ. If in your judgment its publication will in any degree
secure that end, I ought not to withhold it from you.
Yours truly in Christ, HENRY J. VAN DYKE.

MOSES,
THE SERVANT OF THE LORD

Deuteronomy 34, 5-8.
" So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, aocording to the word
of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor :
but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day. And Moses was a hundred and twenty
years old when he died : his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated. And the children
of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days : so the days of weeping and mourning
for Moses were ended."
This record is sublime in its simplicity, and full of
profitable truth. It describes in few, but weighty
words, the death, burial, character, and public estima
tion of the most illustrious of the sons of men. Each
of these topics would furnish rich materials for a long
discourse, of which I now propose to give you only a
hasty sketch. I. THE DEATH OF MOSES
1. Was the exact fulfillment of a divine decree.
He " died there in the land of Moab, according to
the word of the Lord.."
Gro back in the history to the place so significantly
called the waters of Meribah, " because the children of
Israel strove with the Lord." The stream that had
followed them from the rock of Rephidim, during so
many years of their wandering (thus typifying, as the
Apostle tells us, the spiritual blessings which flow out

6
to a perishing world from a smitten Saviour), had at
length failed them. Forgetting both the wrath
under which their fathers had perished in the
wilderness, and the mercy by which they were
hitherto preserved, the gross-hearted people broke
out with bitter eomplaints against God and his
servant. This was too much, even for the meekness
of Moses. He was stung to the quick by their ingrati
tude towards himself, and their stupid rebellion against
his Master. Accordingly, when God told him to " speak
to the rock before their eyes, and it should give forth
water," instead of obeying the commandment implicitly
and in the same spirit of long-suffering in which it was
given, he, in his turn, broke out in bitter reproaches
against the people. "Hear now, ye rebels," he
exclaims ; ' ' must we fetch you water out of this rock ?"
And then, forgetting in his anger the commandment
simply to speak to the rock, he smote it with the rod.
Against this offense God's displeasure was immediately
manifested. The voice from heaven declared that
neither Moses nor Aaron, who had sanctioned his
conduct, should lead the people into the promised land ;
they should both die upon its borders. Much has
been said as to the precise nature of this offense, and
the reason why it was followed by what seems to be so
severe a punishment. It has been contended, with
some plausibility, that the sin consisted partly in break
ing in upon the designed analogy between the rock in
Horeb and the spiritual rock, which is Christ. Once
smitten by the rod of the great lawgiver, the rock was
afterward to give water when it was only spoken to ;
thus dimly intimating what is afterwards so clearly
revealed, that Christ once crucified under the law for

sin, dies no more, but is henceforth a fountain of living
waters to be opened by the simple breath of prayer.
Hence it is said that Moses, by disobeying the letter of
God's command, marred the beauty of this typical
revelation. It is maintained also, with the same kind of plausi
bility, that the death of Moses has a much broader sig
nificance than as a mere punishment for his sin. The
departure of the great lawgiver on the borders of Ca
naan and the triumphant entrance of the people under
the leadership of Joshua (which is, by interpretation,
Jesus), dimly foreshadows the transactions of the cross
and the sepulchre ; when as the Great Prophet like
unto Moses died, the Levitical system which he had es
tablished was finished and done away ; and as the
second Joshua arose and ascended in triumph, the way
was fully opened over death, the spiritual Jordan, into
the heavenly Canaan. This explanation is plausible,
and so far as it goes, probably true ; but it is not the
chief lesson here written for our learning. The most
solemn and instructive meaning of the record lies upon
the surface. Moses sinned and the Lord punished him
with death on the borders of the promised land. What
could more strikingly illustrate in the eyes of all Israel
the great truth, that stiff-necked people were so slow
to learn, that God, though abundant in goodness, will
by no means clear the guilty ? Doubtless the record
stands here before all ages, to teach the double lesson,
that the weakest and best of men are subject to like
passions with ourselves, and that God, in his holiness,
will not overlook sin even in his favorite servants.
There were unbelief and pride, and its twin sister, un-
governed anger, in the conduct of Moses. He should

not have felt for a moment that the rod in his hand
was needful to verify the sure word of prophecy. He
ought to have magnified the power and goodness of
God before the people ; and if the master could afford
patiently to bear with their rebellion, it was not for the
servant to assume the office of avenger. Let the les
son never be forgotten. A holy Father laid the rod of
discipline even on the back of Moses ; and, therefore,
let not the Christian who has dwelt longest and the
most intimately on the mount of communion, and ser
ved his master most faithfully during the longest life,
suppose that he can commit the smallest sin without
being rebuked by the Lord. The rebuke in the case of
Moses was peculiarly severe.
2. Bis death was attended with .special aggravations.
It was not merely the fact, which he so often and
with such deep contrition confesses before the people,
that the Lord was angry with him. It was not
merely that the sentence of death so soon to be execu
ted shocked the instinctive love of life which always
grows stronger with increasing years, and must have
been peculiarly strong in his undimmed eye and una
bated strength. There were ties of peculiar tender
ness which that sentence was about to sever. Moses
was a true friend, and loved the people in whose service
his life had been spent. He was a true patriot, and
longed to see the prosperity of that people in their
own land. He was a true man, and had all a man's
natural desire to enjoy repose after years of toil, and to
be crowned with the full success of a life-long enterprise.
He had chosen to suffer affliction with the people of
God ; and now having sacrificed for their sakes the

riches of Egypt, must he be excluded from their re
compense of reward ? Though he was old, according
to the standard of those days, yet he had not attained
to the years of the life of his fathers. Must he be cut
down in his vigor, and in the height of his usefulness ?
Must the people for whom he had toiled with unfalter
ing affection for forty years, be deprived of his wisdom
and example at this most important juncture of their
history? Filled with such thoughts as these, Moses pros
trated himself before God and prayed for the revocation
of the bitter sentence. Like the great Intercessor whom
he typified, he prayed earnestly that the cup might
pass from him — saying " Oh, Lord, thou hast begun to
show thy servant thy greatness and thy mighty hand.
I pray thee let me go over and see the goodly land that
is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain and Lebanon."
But it might not be ; the decree is unalterable ; and he
who had so often interceded successfully for others, is
denied the blessings he craves for himself. The Lord
said, " Let it suffice thee ; speak no more unto me of
this matter. Get thee up into the top of Pisgah and
behold it with thine eyes, for thou shalt not go over
Jordan." Meekly and heroically the man of God sub
mitted. Except only the sublime courage with which
Jesus said, " Thy will be done," and rose up from
prayer to gird himself for the coming conflict, there
is not on record an example so glorious as that of Mo
ses — calmly waiting and working during all the days
of his appointed time. Though he may not share the
people's triumph he does not " bate one jot of heart' or
hope" in their behalf. During nearly three years that
elapsed from the utterance to the execution of the sen
tence, he filled his office with sleepless vigilance. The

10
knowledge that he must soon depart only made his
zeal more earnest and tender. No opportunity was
neglected and no means unemployed, by which his fol
lowers might be prepared for the inheritance from which
he was cut off. As the appointed time approaches, he
recounts in the great congregation all the dealings of
the Lord. His doctrine drops ajs the rain, and distils as
the dew in his farewell words. His whole soul is pour
ed out in the blessing he pronounces upon the united
nation and upon each individual tribe. And then hav
ing finished his work, he goes up with an unfaltering
step and an undimmed eye, to that mysterious moun
tain top where he is to die alone with his God. There
is an unparalleled moral grandeur in this closing act of
his life. It is not merely a worthy end to his eventful
career ; it stands alone and unequalled in that career.
Not when he appeared before Pharaoh to deliver the
mandates of the great I am ; nor when he poured out
the plagues upon Egypt ; nor when his outstretched
arm rolled the deadly waves over the hosts of the
enemy ; nor when he came down from Sinai with his
face all glowing from that divine communion ; never
does he appear so sublime as when he goes up calmly
" according to the word of the Lord," to that mysteri
ous death and that unknown burial. I can imagine
though I can find no adequate words to picture the
scene. An event so long predicted and so carefully
prepared for, could hardly occur without the knowledge
of the people. I see the congregation of Israel swarm
ing in the valley, from, which the mighty Nebo goes up
a rocky stairway into heaven. They stand with fune
real silence ' with their eyes riveted on the familiar
form of their great leader as he toils step by step and

II
hour by hour up the side of the mountain. His stature-
is erect, his step elastic ; and were it riot for the1
bleached locks and venerable beard that shine like
snow in the sunlight, no one might suppose that up
right and vigorous traveler bears the burden of six score
years. Hours pass away and still he presses on ; and
still the straining eyes of the multitude are fixed upon
him. The receding form grows smaller and smaller as
they gaze. Now they can no longer discern his fea
tures as he turns to cast another, and yet another fare
well look towards the tents of Israel. Now his limbs
are undistinguishable — he seems like a bird, an in--
sect, a speck on the side of the mountain. And now'
he has faded away entirely from their sight. The
curtain has fallen before the drama of that wonderful
life, just as the final catastrophe was approaching.
Who shall describe the closing scene ? Who shall look
behind that drapery of clouds through which the radi
ance of the declining sun streams in purple and gold,
and reveal the secrets of that awfully magnificent death
bed ? A mysterious and1 fearful thing it is; eteri.
when surrounded by the ministrations of friends, the
good man gathers his feet up into the bed and yields up
the ghost. Who can anticipate the tearing away of
the soul from the embrace of the body, the freezing
of these warm limbs, and the sealing up of these senses
in the cold night of the grave, without an instinctive
shudder ? Oh God, it is a fearful thing to die ! And
yet would it not add much to the solemnity of this att--
ticipation, if we could know that in our last moments,
no wife or mother would bend over us to whisper'
words of comfort and catch our parting breath ; no
friend follow us to our Burial, or place one memorial

12
of affection upon our grave ? Thus in the vigor of his
life and usefulness, on the borders of that inheritance
to which he had so long pressed forward, lonely and
far away from all he had loved on earth, did Moses die.
3. And yet, while it was attended with peculiar aggrava
tions, his death had also its peculiar blessings !
After all, was it not better for him to die like a true
soldier with his harness on ? What wise man would
wish to outlive his active usefulness ? Could his history
have been as complete, and its closing scene as glorious
if he had lived in Canaan till the evil days of tottering
and weakness had come upon him ? Is it certain or
even probable that if he had been left to choose for
himself he could have selected a more fitting time and
place for his departure ? True he was alone ; and yet
he was not alone, for the Father was with him. That
mountain solitude was peopled by a more than human
presence. He breathed his last on the bosom of his God,
and underneath him were the everlasting arms. We
may reasonably believe that there were no bonds in his
death ; no fever burning in his veins, no pains racking
his joints, no disease slowly wasting his flesh. And we
are sure that his soul was sustained and made joyful in
his last hours, by visions that blended earth with heaven,
amid which his life went down, not like the setting sun
behind the clouded west, but like the morning star
fading insensibly into the light of the perfect day.
From the top of Nebo, as from a watch tower near the
gate of heaven, God showed him all the rich inheri
tance of Israel. From the entrance of Hamath even
to the river of Egypt, he beheld the fair land arrayed
not only in its natural fruitfulness but in its historic

13
glory. His prophetic eye rested upon that " goodly
mountain," where his own great antetype should re
ject the glory of this world's kingdoms and utterly
vanquish the tempter ; and that other mountain where
the light of both dispensations should be blended in the
transfiguration of Messiah ; and that other mountain,
where all the law and the prophets should be fulfilled
in the sacrifice of the great Paschal Lamb. The same
spirit that had revealed to him the secrets of creation
spread out as in a map before him the glories of re
demption. And then from this vision of earth, he
looked up to the heavenly Canaan, and beheld those
things which eye hath not seen nor ear heard, nor
heart conceived. Oh, how that Jordan faded away in
contrast with the river of life ; how poor were those
fruitful valleys compared with the gardens of God's
delight ; and how joyfully did he give up this promised
land, for a free entrance into the celestial paradise.
Who can doubt that the death of the great prophet,
like his life, was thus distinguished by God's special
favor ? And who can fail to learn from its contem
plation, a lesson of cheerful hope ? We too, brethren,
are condemned to die before we enter that land
of promised contentment and plenty, to which we
so fondly look forward. Never can we attain a
satisfying inheritance here. From some lofty mount
of anticipation we may see the rich land in the
distance, but be sure we shall die upon the borders.
God has so appointed. He has fixed the very time
and place of our departure. But if we are indeed his,
he has made these appointments in wisdom and in love.
Let us learn to entertain pleasant thoughts of death.
Terrible indeed it is to nature, but grace triumphs over

14
nature. Gr'a'ee transforms the' king of terrors into a
messenger of peace ; when the body dissolves, grace'
gives- the soul wings with which to flee away and be at
rest. After all the pang' is but momentary, but the
glory that follows is eternal. It is but to wink and then
see God. Wherefore, with this unalterable sentence
of death upon you, work and wait like Moses till the
appointed time ; and then when the summons comes
go up to the appointed place, feeling assured that how
ever lonely and mysterious,' it shall be to you a mount
of vision, from which you shall look down calmly on
the fading beauty of earth, and then mount up with
joy to the eternal glories of heaven.
II. THE BURIAL OF MOSES.
On this point the text contains one of the most re
markable statements in the Bible. It is not singular
that his sepulchre should1 be unknown, which declara
tion is as true at this day as it was when the text was
first written, notwithstanding the lying wonders of the
monks of Mount Sinai. In this respect" Moses shares'
the1 common lot of thousands. The sands of oblivion1
have covered the tombs of multitudes of earth's
mightiest sons ; and every day men expire in the lone
recesses of the forest, and go down uncoffined to the
hidden depths of the sea*. Indeed the whole earth is
covered with unknown graves ; and if the trump of the
resurrection should sound, the very dust whereon we
tread, in places where we least think of death, would
become instinct with life. But the remarkable part of
the record is the declaration' that the Lord buried him !'
Though he died far from all human ministration, yet
his body Was not left without the' last honors of the

15
dead. It was laid with magnificent ceremonies in a
.sepulchre not made with hands. No doubt the last
rites were performed by the ministrations of angels.
The everlasting gates lifted up their heads that the ra
diant form of cherub and seraph might go forth to tha$
funeral pomp. " The mountain was full of horses and
chariots of fire ;" and the silence of those awful heights
was ravished with floods " of celestial melody. The
sepulchre thus consecrated, though unknown to men,
was committed to the guardianship of a mighty arch
angel ; for " Michael contended with the devil about the
body of Moses." Whatever dispute there may be
about this mysterious statement of Jude, the plain
record before us comes home to our heart with les
sons of comfort and hope, God buried Moses, and
Michael defended his tomb ! What honor do these
facts put upon the fondness with which we bend over
our beloved as they lie cold, yet beautiful in death !
It is natural and right that their flesh should be dear
to us, for God esteems it precious. Amid the magnifi
cent scenery of Nebo, he selected a secluded valley ;
and there he laid the remains of his servant, with the
great mountain for his monument, and the everlasting
stars for his funereal lamps, and all the beauty and
riches of nature for the garniture of his tomb ! Oh !
what honor does this put upon the care with which we
sculpture the marble, and plant sweet flowers by the
graves of our beloved ! And yet, at the same time,
what comfort does it afford, if indeed we are denied
the privilege of paying these honors to any of the de
parted ! Does any one whose memory is precious to
you lie upon a foreign shore in an unknown grave ?
Has the deep sea been £0 any one whom you love both

16
a death-bed and a tomb ? Do not think their depar
ture was uncheered, or their resting place unhonored
because you were not there. But think of Moses, and
say the Lord buried him there ! The bodies of all
his saints have angels to guard them ! And oh !
how safely are they kept ! Fifteen hundred years
after his mysterious burial, the body of Moses was
brought forth, and gloriously arrayed, appeared
with Jesus on that goodly mountain. And so the
time is coming when all that are in their graves
shall hear the voice of the Son of Man. This whole
earth shall be a mountain of transfiguration ; and there
is not one who sleeps in Jesus but shall appear with
him, having a white and glistering raiment and a
countenance shining like the sun !
III. THE CHARACTER OF MOSES.
How simple, yet how comprehensive and weighty
are the words of our text : ' ' Moses the servant of the
Lord was an hundred and twenty years old when he
died ; his ej was not dim, nor his natural force abated !"
His was a long life, signalized at every step from the
cradle of bulrushes in the Nile to the mysterious tomb
on Nebo, by wonderful events ; and developing in its
progress the perfect proportions of a character un
equalled except by one in the annals of the world.
Like nearly all g. eat men, he was of humble parent
age and born in troublous times. Yet by humble we
do not mean ignorant, or ungodly parentage. They
were Israelites indeed, trusting in God and waiting for
the promised redemption. The mother's breast on
which his infancy was nourished was warm not only
with the love of a true woman, but with the faith of a

17
true believer, Her eyes were riot dazzled by the splen
dors of the court into which she was so miraculously
introduced. She felt that fine dress and gorgeous
equipages, and sumptuous fare, are not the chief end of
life. While she was the nurse of her child she was also
his teacher, and fed his soul with the sincere milk of
God's Word.
Fortified by such instructions, the mind of Moses was
proof against the allurements of a forty years' residence
in the Court of Egypt, and at the period of life when
ambition is apt to be the strongest he refused to be
called the sou of Pharaoh's daughter. Soon after we
find him a fugitive from the scenes of his youth a,nd
then a shepherd watching the flock of a stranger in a
far country.
Let us not think this retirement or his lowly occupa
tion unworthy his character and destiny. Like David,
and John the Baptist, and Paul, and Christ, he was
prepared by meditation in the wilderness for the part
he was to fill in the world's history. There the. spirit
of inspiration was his teacher, and the 'Oreat I Am
gave him his commission from the burning bush.
We have not time to follow him in his marvellous
career from that bush to the borders of Canaan:
but looking over that history which is familiar
to us all, we desire to ask what is the distinguishing
feature of his life and character ? What is it makes his
record on high so glorious, and constitutes the chief
element in his praise on earth ? The text answers this
question, and its simple testimony is most instructive.
In summing up his life and character, and fixing to him
the title which should ever after distinguish him, it
does not say Moses the Gre.at, the Conqueror of Egypt,

18
the Deliverer of Israel, the Lawgiver of Sinai ; but
simply and sublimely " Moses the Servant of the Lord."
In all the elements of greatness he stands foremost
among the heroes of antiquity. Among statesmen
none ever wrought such barbarous materials into so
perfect a commonwealth. No military leader ever con
ducted such a host through such a wilderness. No man
of science ever looked so far into the secrets of nature
or exerted like mastery over her powers. No historian
has explored so thoroughly the mysteries of antiquity
or left a record so perfect and enduring. But there is
one comprehensive fact that blends all the traits of his
character into symmetry and strength, explains all the
signs and wonders that he wrought, epitomizes his
whole career, and imparts an imperishable life to his
name. He was the Servant of the Lord ; his servant
in the face of allurements and oppositions, the like of
which have seldom compassed the path of man ; his
servant to the very end of life, laying his gray hairs on
the same altar where he had consecrated the dew of
life's morning a willing sacrifice.
Here is a lesson for the votaries of fame, who, un
mindful of God, seek only the honor which cometh from
men. The ambition that impels them to ' ' live labor
ing days," is compounded of noble elements. But alas !
that so much wealth of intellect and affection should be
lavished on things that perish. Let them read in the
history of the world upon every page, that fame's glori
ous beauty is a fading flower, soon to be bound and
withered in the sheaf of the great reaper, death ; and
then beholding in Moses its living illustration, let
this saying of God ring in their ears and burn upon
their hearts : ' ' Let not the wise man glory in his wis-

19
dom, nor the mighty man in his might ; but let him
that glorieth glory in this that he understandeth, and
knoweth Me." To serve God is the true pathway to
glory. And is there not a lesson here for those who profess
Christ's name, and who in the midst of a stirring busi
ness career, are longing and planning for the repose in
which they may enjoy the fruits of their toil? Almost
every man of business has a land of promise in the
distance — a goodly land, watered with pure streams
and shaded with vines and fig trees ! He purposes to
retire into some sweet valley of Canaan, where he shall
find a full recompense for the toils of the wilderness.
Now, I do not affirm that such anticipations are all evil,
or that it is under all circumstances wrong to realize
them. A man may retire from successful business with
an honest purpose to use his gains for the glory of God,
and everywhere he may find opportunities to work for
his Master. But I do say that the idea of a perfect re
pose in this world is a mere dream of foolish and indo
lent human nature. And the modified anticipation of
retirement from worldly cares for the purpose of doing
good, is in almost every case "a hope deferred that
makes sick the heart ;" even when it is not a self-
deception, by which men postpone the claims of present
duty. Amid the uncertainties that attend such anticipa
tions let me commend to you a certain and more glori
ous scheme ; even the scheme of devoting the fruits of
a life-long toil to the service of God, not to be blazoned
in a splendid will or monumentalized of some great
public trust which the pride and villainy of men will
pervert ; but by consecrating a full proportion of them
as fast as they ripen. Let me say to young men, and

20
especially to those who are engaged in successful busi
ness, banish this idea of making enough for yourself
and then resting to enjoy it — 'tis a mean, shrivelled, un
christian idea ; and embrace the higher and holier
purpose of working all your life for God's cause. Begin
now and continue till your last day to gather silver
and gold and social influence into the Lord's treasury.
Be willing to die on Mount Nebo, if your closing eye
may be cheered by the prospect of great prosperity in
the Church : a prospect made certain by your liberality
and faithfulness till deaths No danger that a man who
goes to work in such a spirit will ever come to want,
or fail of a large success. God will bless him in basket
and in store. And if he live many years, his last days
shall be genial and fruitful. If, indeed, your old age is
to be querulous and dissatisfied, clinging with desperate
fondness to this world's goods, and having no heart
interest in the life beyond, — then we should say, Go —
retire to some far country — leave your merchandize
and seek among the pure works of God to keep some
green spot in your heart. There are more than enough-
such old men in the Church and in the'marts of trade ;
and as they stand clutching the purse-strings like an
other Judas, and mingling their complaints like a
second Nabal with the counsels of God's people, — Satan
chuckles over them, — saying, "See how the boasted
love of Christ grows cold with years^see how these
professed heirs of heaven hold on to the world the
nearer they come to their inheritance !"
But 0, if you may have an old age like Moses, and,
thank God, like many to whom Israel in these days
rises up in the gate to do honor ; if as wealth increases
you might impart it more liberally to every good enter-

21
prise ; if as you draw near to Mount Nebo your interest
in the Church might grow, and your love for God's
people become more tender ; then, your presence shall
be as a pillar of fire in the wilderness ; the minister
who loves you in your young manhood will cling to and
lean upon you more fondly as you grow old together,
and children of the covenant yet unborn will rise up to
bless your memory.
IV. THE PUBLIC ESTIMATION OF MOSES.
We allude under this head, more particularly to the
expressions of love and sorrow which followed his
death. " And the children of Israel wept for Moses in
the plains of Moab thirty days." The whole nation
united in doing honor to the memory of the departed.
If there were any who had opposed and spoken evil of
him during his life, now that he was gone, their enmity
was disarmed. -Every man felt bereaved and joined in
the universal expression of sorrow. Right it is thus to
mourn over the death of the great and good. Their
departure is a grievous loss, for the world has but few
to whose character men may look for an example, and
in whose life they may feel an honest pride. More
over such mourning embalms their example and influ
ence in the hearts of the people, and by their cherish
ed memorials, they being dead, yet speak. The mem
ory of a nation's great and good men constitute its pe
culiar treasures. It is the great stimulus to enterprise
and virtue ; and above all, by the common interest they
excite, such memories are the great bond of fraternal
union. It was so among the people of Israel. Next
to their apostacy from God, the great danger that
threatened'their peace and prosperity, was alienation

22
from each other. When they should be settled in sep
arate and to some extent independent sovereignties, and
different pursuits and social relations should have worked
out the natural results in their character ; there was great
danger that they would wax proud and break the bond
of fraternity. Moses foresaw and cautioned them with
his dying words against this peril. And we say that
next to his precepts, his own memory was the most
powerful preventive. They all gloried in him ; his
fame was their common inheritance. And when five
centuries after they were separated into two bands,
the name of Moses and the fondness with which they
clung to his memory, kept them from becoming .utterly
estranged. We think it will be no digression from the
spirit of this discourse to intimate how this example
applies to us in our civil relations. I deem it no pre
sumption to institute a comparison between the deliv
erer of Israel and that modern Moses, who led our
fathers through the wilderness of war to the borders
of our goodly heritage ; at whose tomb the affections
of our whole country center and mingle with filial fond
ness. As, while those twelve States of Israel dwelt
peaceably together in their glorious confederation, the
last counsels of their deliverer were at once their pride
and the bond of their union ; as when in an evil hour
Ephraim began to vex Judah, and Judah, Ephraim,
the heart of the true Israelite turned mournfully to the
memory of those better counsels and more glorious
days ; so should we be bound together by the memory
of our great leader ; and if it ever comes to the worst
and the strife of brotherhood writes Ichabod on the
shattered memorials of our country's glory (which, God

23
forbid), so shall some of us turn to read and blot his
farewell words with a patriot's tears !
There is yet another reflection suggested by this
record. " And so," says the text, "the days of weeping
and mourning for Moses were ended." Of course this
does not mean that the people ceased at the expira
tion of a month to feel their loss and cherish the mem
ory of the departed. It only means they ceased from
the public and formal expression of their sorrow. They
had spent thirty days on the borders of their inheri
tance in these funereal rites. They had given full ex
pression to that grief which would still abide in many
a soul, but which ought not to hinder them from the
real enjoyments and duties of life. They, have other
employments than to linger weeping on the banks of
Jordan. The wants of their children, the cherish
ed hopes of the land of promise, the claims of their
glorious destiny are pressing upon them. Joshua, their
new leader, puts off his sackcloth and girds on his ar
mor and calls on them to go forward.
Here then is a lesson for us. It can never be
the chief business of our life to weep and lament.
There must be a limit to such mourning as unfits us to
go bravely forward in the performance of duty. The
afflicted soul may be allowed the comely expression of
his grief, and while the sorrow is fresh, a merciful Fath
er will not be offended if he sits down for a while to its
indulgence. But there is no virtue and there may be
much sin in grief. The sooner he can rise and gird
himself, and say with David, "Wherefore should I
mourn ?" the better for his own comfort and the more
likely is he to secure God's favor. Indeed it is one of
the blessed p rovisions made for our comfort that the very

24
effort to put a cheerful courage on, after a little time,
softens affliction, and almost transfigures it into joy.
It is not that the memory of the departed is forgotten.
Oh, no ! though the household may grow in numbers
and in loveliness, the absent child still comes back daily
to the parent's heart ; and often amid the busiest scenes,
the bright face and sweet voice of one far away mingles
with their thoughts. But as time rolls on, the vision
becomes, more and more sweet and welcome, gradually
losing the lineaments of earth, and putting on an an
gel's garb. The new grave that is so barren and repul
sive to-day, will be covered by another spring with
green sod and fragrant flowers. Birds will sing and
build their nests there. The morning and evening
light will glance softly upon it, until it becomes an at
tractive spot. And thus, too, the affliction that gar
nered the precious dust in its bosom, shall be mellowed
in the distance till it becomes a pleasant memory. All
over these fields of time ' ' light is sown for the right
eous, and gladness for the upright in heart. Grief itself
scatters the germs of joyful anticipation. This slumber
ing dust is but the seed corn of the resurrection har
vest. These days of absence are but the needful pre
paration for an eternal reunion. There the affinities
of the new-born soul shall be fully developed and grati
fied in the vision of God. There, too, the sanctified
affections of earth shall be renewed and intensified in
a fellowship, amid whose joys it shall be said in a higher
and truer sense, "and so the days of their weeping
and mourning were ended."