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(COPYRIGHT RESERVED.) "sip m'leish and company, printers, toronto, ont. McMASTER UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Preface. §T has been well and eloquently said, that " Plato is mightier than Ccesar, and the pen of the thinker than embattled battalions ; and thrones and coronets, palaces, and pyr'_.mids,^ rocks, and mountains, are weaker than the world's best books." This is unquestionably true, for when a book comes before us which is not a mere effervescence, but the sound result of close-bent, hard-strained, oft-foiled, finally suc- cessful effort ; a book with thought and truth as its distinction, 't disenthralls and energizes us. We are prepared earnestly, patiently, with oft-returning glances to seek its mastery and appropriation. It enlarges us, it gives stability to wavering purposes, or fits a linked armour on the soul. Whether tt be indigenous to the consecrated heights of pufc reason, or whether \t deals with the more sjiSritual crystallisation of thougl^t arui poetry, it matters not, if thought and truth blend, the book is a power. The reader of such a book, if he be a sincere, earnest, real man, will always gather intellectual nourishment and strength from the pabuhim it supplies. No robust intellectual, moral, or religious life can well be lived in these times without the aid and auxiliaries such books afford. The author of this book is by no means a stranger to a large portion of the reading public, and we have no doubt but that this edition will be hailed with delight by a large number of readers. It displa3's an imperial fancy, real imaginative force, and a wealth of descriptive writing seldom surpassed. We have rarely met with anything finer than many of his " Sketches, " and especially the one entitled "A Night Scene in Babylon," If the aphorism be correct, that "the aim dignifies the enter- prise," then the writer of this book has an indisputable claim upon the followers of Christ, while the manner in which the task has oeen performed, will make his book a power among the thousands of Israel. W. STEPHENSON. Toronto, i872. i 1 TO The yVlEMORY of my JBeloved yWoxHER, TO WHOM I OW! MY !-[RST RELIGIOUS IMPRF.SSICNS, THIS VOLUME IS ! AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIRF-O. 1 ,J^ 'm^ ml '-.'.••• • •••'-' i^r-J m^ Contents. I'AGK THIi AN'GEUS OF MY FATHER 9 TU i: 1 AI.Li;\ STANDARD BFARER 23 TilK DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL 2^ A MOUNTAIN SCENE 41 THi: di:ath and burial of moses 55 A night scene IN BABYLON 63 HOMi: 79 the end of time 93 HOPE loi THE GOSPEL FLEET 115 THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL 125 THE HAVEN OF PEACE 131 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. UR knowledge of the angels is d. .ived from the Bible. As to the tinxC of their creation the sacred c .cles are silent. Wi. read that they were in attenda ce, and with songs of praise celebrated the biith of our world. The Angels are Spiritual Beiiif^s. — "He maketh His angels spirits." There is a variety of opinions as to whether the angels have bodies. The critics, or school-men as they are termed, who lived in the early part of the Christian era, taught that the angels had no bodies, and were altogether incorporeal. The Platonists believed that the angels had their proper bodies, and although invisible to us, are visible to God. Bernard says, ** All y TT" 10 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. spirits have their bodies except God." How can they perform their ministrations without a body, or move from place to place. If the angels have bodies they must be far more subtle or etherial than ours, but as to their nature we are incapable of forming an opinion. The angels are innumerable. — The prophet Micaiah " saw the Lord sitting on a throne^ and all the host of Heaven standing on His right hand and on His left ; " and Isaiah saw the Lord sitting upon a throne,, high and lifted up, and His train filled the temple. When the Syrians compassed the city of Dothan, and Elisha's servant saw them, trembling with fear he fled to his master saying, *' What shall we do," and Elisha prayed to the Lord to remove the scales from the young man's eyes, and he saw upon the mountains encircling the city, horses and chariots of fire. Daniel saw the Ancient of Days, descending from Heaven in great pomp and grandeur ; His throne was like a fiery flame and its wheels like burning fire, a fiery stream issued and came forth before him, thousands ministered unto Him, and ten thou- sand times ten thousand stood before Him.*' THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. ir Under the Gospel dispensation the vision of angels have been less frequent. At the incar- nation of our Lord we are lold that the heavenly hosts gathered, and a shaking of celestial wings and music was heard by the shepherds. Paul describes the angels as an innumerable company ; and John hear4 the voices of many angels round about the throne. The Angels are Powerful Beings. — Angelic power is represented as immensely great. This may be inferred from the names given to them in the scriptures. They are called powers^ thrones, authorities, dominions, principalities, archangels, cherubim, seraphim. David says, " Bless the Lord, ye His angels that excel in strength." Several instances cf ang^^lic power are given in the scriptures ; in one night an angel destroyed the army of Sennacherib, an bundled and four score and five thousand men. By what means he slew the Assyrian warriors, we cannot say, as no marks of violence were found on them. Was he the whole night in executing his dread commission, or did he sweep over that mighty army on swift wings. 12 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. leaving columns of dead as he passed. The first born of the Egyptians were slain in one night. To effect the destruction of Jerusalem, on account of the sin of David in numbering the people, only one angel was sent forth ; and David lifted up his eyes and saw the angel of the Lord standing between heaven and earth, having a drawn sword in his hand stretched out over Jerusalem. How terrible and sublime was that sight! Around the offending monarch lay the Holy City, with its inhabitants slumbering in supposed security. The pale moon was throw- ing its silvery beams upon the battlements, and the domes of the highest palaces. The stars were calmly looking down on the plains, moun- tains and gardens of Judea. Directly over the city stood this bright and powerful being grasp- ing a glittering sword. A single stroke from that flaming sword and the city would become a vast tomb with no signs of life, nor beating heart within its walls. Do we wonder that David and the elders of Israel fell on their* faces and earnestly pleaded with God, that the dreadful sword might be returned to its sheath. In the book of Revelations the THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. 13 angels are represented as being clothed with yast power, controlling the elements and exe- cuting the judgments of the Almighty upon His guilty subjects. The Apostle John saw seven mighty angels standing before God, with seven trumpets in their hands. As one startling peal followed another the most terrific woes descended and buist upon the earth. The sky was darkened by fearful storms, and the deep heavy thunder and livid lightnings told that the day of God's wrath was come. Chariots of fire were seen coursing through the air, bearing the messengers of divine vengeance. Burning mountains were hurled to and fro, and consumed every thing in their reach. Stars fell, the sky became darkened and the moon refused to shed its light. In the midst of these wild commotions and terrible calamities, a voice was heard crying, ** Babylon is fallen, that great city, because she made all nations drink of the wine of the wrath of her fornication." He heard the crash of her fall- ing palaces, and saw the smoke ascending from her ruins. The shriek of her guilty inhabitants rent the air; her haughty kings were brought L>^ mSSBSBMSSamm 14 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. low, and their crowns and thrones buried beneath the ruins of the city. The Angels are Intelligent Beings. — The boundary of angelic knowledge we cannot accurately define, but it is evident there are subjects beyond their comprehension. The mys- teries of human redemption the angels desire to look into, and in the book of Job we are told that God charges His angels with folly ; never- theless they must possess vast stores of know- ledge. They have no shattered memories to contend with, sleep never falls upon their eyelids, ** no new languages to acquire, never disheart- ened by misapplied labour, never retarded by sickness, poverty or incompetent instruction, but with immortal energy they can ponder, analyse and discuss those weighty matters re- lating to the divine being and His great pur- poses." In associating with such beings, we may expect to derive the highest intellectual benefit. The Angels are Holy Beings. — The holiness of angels is evident from the purity of their abode. Their home is the City of the Great King. The temple and mansions of the New THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. IS Jerusalem are composed of spotless material. How delightful to contemplate the society of beings ** whose thoughts, purposes and deeds are resplendent with holiness." Their very names give us an exalted conception of their purity, dignity and elevated position. They are called the sons of God. They bear the image of their Father — ** morning stars '* ever lighted up with the glorious beams of the **Sun of Righteousness." The Angels are Benevolent Beings. — Although they are often represented as executing the judgments of Jehovah, yet they delight in missions of love. With what swiftness did an angel hasten to Hagar in the wilderness to relieve her distress, and afford her comfort in her loneliness and sorrow. What earnestness did the angels manifest to save Lot and his family from ruin. A very touching example of angelic tenderness and love is furnished in the case of Elijah. This servant of the living God, after a most triumphant vindication of the sincerity of his faith and the truth of his religion, upon Mount Carmel, had escaped from his persecu- tors and reached the wilderness weary and ;! 36 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. exhausted ; reclining under a juniper tree, and pleading almost in despair for death, he fell asleep. An angel was sent to him, and bending over the unconscious slumberer, and being im- pressed with the prophet's destitute and sad condition, he prepared him food, and touching him, said, *' Arise and eat." But the most beautiful and affecting instances of the love of angels are furnished in their ministrations to our Lord while he was upon the earth. In infancy they watched over him with the utmost tender- ness. When a cruel tyrant thirsted for His bloody and formed a conspiracy to destroy Him, Joseph was warned by an angel in a dream, who said unto him, "Arise and take the young child and flee into Egypt." In every stage of His event- ful life He was seen of angels. In that terrible scene in the garden, when He struggled with the rulers of the darkness of this world ; when his mysterious and awful agony foiced the blood through the pores of His skin and He was ready to faint, there came an angel from Heaven to strengthen Him. When betrayed by Judas and about to be seized by the cruel mob, Peter indignantly cut off the ear of Malchus THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. 17 the servant of the high priest, Christ rebuked him, saying, "Thinkest thou that I cannot pray to rny Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels." So ready was the Father to send them, that a word only was needed to secure the presence of a force that would disarm every foe. We may almost see the legions pressing forward for the conflict, their swords flashing amid the darkness of that cruel night, their faces burning with zeal to rescue the Lord of life. But they are held back by the arm of Omnipotence ; no legion is sent out ; no celestial warriors are engaged in the conflict. The victory of Messiah over death and the grave, the angels came to celebrate. Their arrival is announced by the shock of an earth- quake, for the angel of the Lord descended from Heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door of the sepulchre, and -sat upon it. The Angels minister to the Christian in his last hours, " Are they not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation." Jesus speaking of the death of Lazarus, says: **And the beggar died and i8 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. I ! ■ Is S U^ i' was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom." Behold those fiery horses and chariot cleaving the air ! How they sweep by palaces with their thrones and diadems, and now they stop at the gate of a rich man's mansion. What are these celestial beings doing ? Are they about to visit the man clothed in purple and fine Hnen ? No, they have come to take up a poor beggar who is tired of life's weary pilgrimage. Oh, how those flaming steeds paw the earth with impatience and pant to be away. Now with the disem- bodied spirit by their side, swifter than the light- ning they mount upwards to the city which hath foundations. It is probable that every chamber where the good man meets his fate is thronged by angels. Hundreds of dying testimonies con- firm it. Have you never watched in the chamber of sickness the light of life fast waning away. Have you not seen the wing of the spirit just at that moment of disembodying itself, gently moving and breaking the shell of its house of clay; but have you not felt as you stood amongst sorrowing friends, that other beings were present, fanning with their wings the exhausted frame of the dying, and I THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. 19 directing the eye of the spirit to the sunlit borders of Canaan. Enter this cottage ; here, upon a bed of death is a fair child, with tresses of long black hair hanging over the pillow. Her eye is dark and piercing. A friend, bending over her, asks if she knows herself to be in a dying state. " I know that my Redeemer liveth," says she, in a sweet voice. A half-hour passes in silence, then she speaks in the same deep musical voice: "Father, I am cold; lie down be- side me." Her aged father lies down beside his dying child, and she twines her thin arms around his neck, and says in a dreamy voice, ■*' Dear father, dear father." •' My child," says the father, *'does the flood seem deep to thee ?" *' No father, for my soul is strong." " Seest thou the further shore, my child ?" ** I see it father, the banks are green." " Dost thou hear any voices ?" " I hear them, father, as the voices of angels, they call me. My mother, too — her voice, too, father. O ! I heard it there." 20 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. I II ** Does she speak to thee, child ?" " O, yes ! she speaks in tones most sweet." ** Does she smile?" ** Yes, an angel's smile. But I am cold, cold, cold, father ; there is a mist in the room. You'll be lonely, you'll be lonely. Is this death father ?" ** It is death, my Mary." " Thank God ! " replied the child, her eyes closed, and she slept in the arms of Jesus. " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." Child of sorrow, remem- ber that He giveth His angels charge concerning thee. " Hail ! happy day ! that breaks our chain ! That manumits, that calls from exile home, That leads to nature's great metropolis, And re-admits us, thro' the guardian hand of elder brothers, to our Father's house," Some years ago, there was a dreadful epidemic on this continent. The pastor of a beloved church and his wife fell a victim to the plague. A few moments before he expired, he exclaimed, "They are coming, they are coming, they are coming.'* His wife was in the other room ; she happened to THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. 21 be dozing. The friends who were watchingheard a voice coming out of the room ; she was saying **is he gone, is he gone ?" They repHed, *' yes, triumphantly; "When did he die? Was he triumphant?" ''Yes, triumphant." ♦* Now I am ready and happy, my work is done, I will follow; farewell," and she closed her eyes in Jesus. The Rev. Thomas Lowe describes the last moments of his beloved wife in the following beautiful language : "While I and my dear sister were sitting up with the dear sufferer, watching with painful interest the last wave of life ebbing to and fro, we heard a rich strain of heavenly music and song — soft, sweet, silvery voices, singing in chorus — like notes from 'harps of gold;' and as we eagerly listened, rapt v/ith the celestial melody, the heavenly strain myste- riously floated away in faint, rich, silvery echoes. Heaven was very near that chamber of death." On another occasion, she exclaimed, with in- effable rapture, "Glory ! hallelujah! I see Him ! 'Tis Jesus that's come for me. Hallelujah ! beautiful ! beautiful ! There's a home in Jesus. No more weariness." The last words she 23 THE ANGELS OF MY FATHER. uttered faintly but audibly, were "Glory ! Glory! Glory!" And then in a sweet calm, unruffled by a pang, soft and gentle as an infant's slumber her happy spirit passed away to that beautiful land on high. Are they not all ministering' spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation. THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. N Springfield Cemetery, Hull, England, r-.pose the remains of the Rev. William Clowes — the seraphic burning Clowes — one of the grandest heroes of modern times. The epitaph on his tomb, reads : " He was a burning and a shining light." The eulogium is brief, but how appropriate ; an archangel could not have composed an en- conium more in harmony with his character. The last scene in the life of this great man seems to pass before me. That solemn and momentous hour, when he stood with one foot on the shifting sands of time., f nd the other on the grand terra-firma of eternity. How silent he lies ! Why does he not speak of Jesus, the 24 THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. grand theme of his life and bear testimony, to the power of rehgion to sustain in a dying hour? Death has destroyed the power of articulation. His battle cry, '' To Calvary, to Calvary ! " which has sent thousands weeping to the Cross, has been heard for the last time. His lips which quivered with the songs of Zion, have sung their last earthly song, and are being tunod for higher raptures and more entrancing melodies. His eyes which were once lit up with unearthly lustre, now roll like suns eclipsed within their spheres. His feet which trod the silent avenues and solitary lanes, in search of the wanderer, have performed their last mission. Grouped around him are his favorite marshals ; they are come to resceive the mantle of their dying chief- tain. They have fought side by side in many a fierce conflict, and now, amid inaudible shouts of triumph, they behold him bearing the flag of victory high above the smoke and storm of the last great battle, they cling around him and are loth to part, but the Master calls, and angels with their radiant fingers are preparing the unfading laurel for his brow. Even now soft as the dying cadence of an angels lute, the notes THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. 25 of welcome fall upon his ear. The flaming steeds and chariots of Jehovah have left the pearly portals, and are on their way to bear him home. Noiseless as the sunbeams they enter the chamber of death, and thread their way unseen through that solemn gathering ; but ere he departs one of his aides-de-camp steps forward and asks for a sign of his accep- tance with God. His hands, which have been motionless for hours, are raised in token of victory, and without a shudder or a groan, his spirit enters the chariot, and away go steeds and chariot, " like an ascending glory," up the hills of eternity, while the face and raiment of Clowes turn golden in the flash of the fiery vehicle. The fathers in Israel shook their heads and exclaimed, " Alas, my brother I Alas, my counsellor and friend ! " But already had the chariot entered the celestial gates. " It is drawn up amidst the songs and harpings of the harpers arrayed in white, and it there stands to deliver up its glorious passenger " And whilst friends are weeping around the fallen standard-bearer, the Master above is saying, ** Well done, thou good and faithful servant, 26 THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." The heralds that night had called aloud to the watch- man as he paced the lonely tower of Zion, <* Watchman, what of the night ? Watchman, what of the night ?" His enigmatical response was, "the morning cometh and also the night." To the Spirit, the shadows of the grave folded their wings and fled; and the morning, over whose radiant brow a cloud never passed, came. But the niglit came also — the night of weeping to the friends around the speechless corpse as they bent over him in lamentation and woe. There are tears here, joys there; solemn prayers here, grand praises ascending there. Here all is grief, sorrow, and pain ; there our father has passed into a scene of triumph and peace. He has already been clustered around by those who ascended before him through his instru- mentality, and has received from them a grand reception. He is not dead. Such a spirit cannot die. Such holiness produced by God's grace dieth not. It liveth for evermore. " He being dead, yet speaketh." Though he was not distinguished by profound THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. 27 learning — though his genius was not brilliant — though he had not the tongue of classic elo- xjuence — yet these were not things he coveted. He had sterling attributes peculiarly his own. He was a man full of faith and of the Holy Ohost. He was a man of prayer. He ever abounded in works of faith and labours of love. His motto might have been, " In labours more abundant." He was distinguished most of all by his intense and ever restless activity in the service of Christ, and though sometimes weary, yet never tired in well-doing. His warm grasp, his friendly smile, and his Christian heart, made him the common property of his ministerial brethren ; while on the other hand, his catho- licity and large-heartedness rendered him the common friend of all, while he went on plodding, gathering the fruits of his devotion and zeal. As his tomb retreats into the shade of time, the more radiant will it be with glory to the eyes of posterity. Extraordinary men are like moun- tains, and their image seems to grow in propor- tion as they recede from our view, and stand out alone on the confines of the horizon. Though the subject of this sketch finds no 28 THE FALLEN STANDARD BEARER. niche in the solemn temples of the land, the- saloons of the rich, or the galleries of sculpture, yet his name shall be had in everlasting re- membrance. When old Time shall have erased from the marble column the names of those whom the world calls great, and the dust reposing in the grand repositories of states shall have answered to the call, " Arise ye dead, and come to judg- ment," he having turned many to righteousness shall shine for ever and ever in the Kingdom of God. Let us act as noSly as did he, so will our end be serene, and full of undying hope. I THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL MID the beautiful and romantic scenery that skirts the shore of Lake Ontario, Hved a family, all of whom, except James, the eldest son, adorned the Gospel of Christ. In early life he manifested strong symp- toms of a wayward heart, which was a severe trial to his parents. As prodigals generally are, James was his mother's favorite; but like too many, he fortified his heart against her parental tenderness and holy example. He was also ex- tremely averse to labour, and spent most of his time on the lake, with the boatmen. At length he resolved to be a sailor, which brought him in contact with influences the most demoralising. Severed from home and its religious associa- tions — like the wild ass's colt, without bridle 30 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. to curb or hand to guide, he wandered far from God. But in all his wanderings there wa& one heart that beat true to him ; nothings could induce his mother to forget him, or even cause her love to wane. When night came down upon the earth, and naught was heard but the ripple of the waves along the shore,. Mrs. N knelt by her couch, and wrestled in deep agonising prayer (as mothers only can pray) for her poor prodigal. It was some years after James began to follow the lake, that his mother was taken seriously ill, and being impressed with the fact that her days were numbered, she expressed a strong desire to see him before she died. Her request was promptly attended to. Mr. N also sent for their much beloved pastor, whose presence had ever been to the dying one more precious than the glorious rays of the sun to the benighted * traveller. Obedient to the call, the man of God hastened to the chamber of sickness. On his arrival he found but few persons present except the family. Mrs. N was rapidly sinking, but still able to converse. One who saw her says ; " I do not know that I ever saw one more 'v. I THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. 3I lovely in death, or able to look into the eternal world, on the brink of which she then lay, with more calmness or composure." *' I hope you feel resigned to the will of God and ready to obey His summons," said the minister. " O, yes," was the reply, *' God has been very mer- ciful to me. His Holy Spirit has brought most of my rebellious thoughts into submission to His will, and I can truly say that I find un- speakable peace and comfort in resigning myself and all my concerns into His hands. When I look on my past life I see how devious has been my path and faltering my step — the cieature of a thousand changed and changing purposes. At one time I firmly resolved to devote all my powers and faculties to the service of God, and perhaps before an hour had passed, all my good resolutions were swept away, and myself brought into subjection to the law of sin which is in my members. O, when I think of these things I should sink into utter despair did I not remember that I am to be saved by free and unmerited grace through Jesus : ' Thou must save and Thou alone. In my hand no price I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling." 32 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. ** When I look forward to the things that are not seen ; the things which God hath prepared for them that love him, I long to depart and be with Christ — but, then the thought of those that I am leaving! Oh! there is one bitter, bitter thought — my James — my James — Oh! that I could see him, and whisper my dying entreaty to turn from the ways of death." James having received the intelligence of his mother's illness, started for home. What were- his thoughts as he sailed o'er the trackless deep is a secret. No doubt, as the wild waves swept around the brave ship, he thought of her whose life was drawing to a close. The night was dark and tempestuous when he landed. Clad in liis sailor's garb, and dripping with rain, he made all possible speed to his father's house. He entered the room unperceived by his mother, and, kneeling down by her bedside, with one hand he covered his face, and with the other clasped the hand of his dying mother. Turning towards him, she lay for a moment gazing in silence upon her wayward child, and then ex- claimed, " Oh ! my James, my James, I am going to die — and must we be parted for ever ? >^ ^ THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. 33 Have I borne and nursed vou — have I carried you in my arms and cherished you in my bosom so many days and nights that you mij;ht become a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction ? Oh ! my son, this is the last appeal that I shall ever make to you ; do turn to God. If you have no pity on your own soul, do have pity on the tears and a<;ony of your dying mother! Oh ! my God, I ask for this my son but one thing — the salvation of his soul." Her strength failing, she sank backwards on the pillow, her lips quivering with emotion. Beautiful as a summer's eve she lay waiting her Master's call. The summons came. The prodigal pressed with filial affection the hand of his dying mother. The man of God stepped forward, and, bending over her, repeated in slow and measured accents a portion of the 23rd Psalm : " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." David's harp never sounded half so sweet to Saul as did those words to the lone traveller as she passed onward through the deep shadows of death. The minister now turned to Mr. 34 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. N- -, and with an impressive whisper, that seemed to thrill through every heart, said, "The struggle is over." • ^ For some time after his mother's demise, James gave signs of a change for the better; but, alas ! he soon turned to his former habits, and became seven times more a child of Satan. He, therefore, who sitteth in the heavens, and whose kingdom ruleth over all, resolved to punish him. This was His high prerogative — His divine right. His laws he had broken. His mercies abused, and His authority spurned. He continued to follow the Lake, the naviga- tion of which is very dangerous, on account of the sudden squalls which at times sweep over it. About the time when James was expected with his schooner, there blew one of the most terrific gales that had ever been known. It would seem as if the Almighty had marshalled the elements against him, and employed the wind and waves as the dread angels of His in- dignation. Suddenly dark clouds, emitting a lurid glare, enwrapped the heavens in their sable folds. A deep muffled sound, like the wail of a dying^ THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. mariner, was heard. The next moment the storm burst upon the vessel. The sails were torn into shreds, the masts snapped like match- wood, and the ship struggled, like a thing of life, for existence. At length, overpowered by the tempest, she lay helpless on the bosom of the mighty deep. The news soon spread that a schooner was wrecked, and in a sinking condi- tion within sight of shore. Soon the beach was lined with spectators, and it soon became known that it was James N 's vessel. A number of persons could be distinctly seen clinging to the wreck. Among the spectators was Mr. N , the prodigal's father, walking about in the deepest agony. In his haste he had left the house without his hat, and his long white hair was floating in the wind, which gave to him a wild and distracted appearance. An attempt had just been made to send a small boat to the relief of the perishing crew; but there was not a boat to be had that could have lived five minutes in that gale. Mr. N implored them to make another attempt. " Oh, save my child," he cried, " I will give all that I possess if anyone will make the effort." To have done so would 36 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. have been certain destruction ; of this Mr. N — soon became sensible, and desisted from his im- portunity. Night came on, an emblem to the poor mariners of another night rapidly approach- ing. A deep darkness settled down upon the sinking wreck and blotted it out, together with its perishing crew, for ever from the gaze of the multitude. The frantic father still stood gazing in the direction of the wreck, trying to pierce with his dim eyes the darkness, to catch another glance of his profligate but still beloved child. At last, a frier.d standing by, taking him by the arm, begged him to return to his house, and re- mF,mber where his trust should be placed. '* Oh, yes," said he, turning away from the agitated waters that were roaring around them. *' Oh, yes, my heart is indeed overwhelmed. Mead me to the Rock that is higher than I.' ' Had James been penitent, could I have any evidence that his peace was made with God; but the thought of his going to an endless perdition, how agon- ising ! Oh God, help me to bow in humble submission to this painful dispe sation and to say. Thy will be done ! " The morning came, but, as was expected, not THK DYING MOTHKR AND HKR I'RODIGAI.. 37 :o a vestige of the wreck was to be seen. The struggle was over — the death chill past — beneath the wild waves the mariners slept. ' What a scene for a parent to witness ! What a contrast between the death of the mother and that of the son ! The former how sublime ! The latter how terrific ! What were the thoughts and feelings of the poor prodigal, as he clung shivering to the wreck, knoweth no man. May we suppose that on that dark and tem- pestuous night the closing scene of his beloved mother passed vividly before his eyes, and that her last appeal fell upon his ear, "My child! my child ! do turn to God ; if you have no pity on your own soul, do have pity on the groans and tears of your dying mother ?" Was her glorified spirit permitted to behold the death of her son ? Did she, bending over his storm-stricken form, catch his last dying prayer for mercy as it quivered half-articulated upon his lips ? This is a problem we must leave for that day to unfold when the secrets of all men shall be revealed. The prodigal has perished ! The night clouds 38 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. i are his funeral pall, the waves chant his re- quiem, and none but the monsters of the deep behold his resting-place ; but where, oh ! where is the spirit that survived that awful night ? It is to be feared that a darker night still rests upon it. Young men, pause and reflect on the sad end of this unfortunate youth. Let not the pleasures of this world deceive you ; for the *'end of these things is death." Learn a lesson from the following life scene allegorically described : ** I stood on the banks of a stream ; it was the River of Iniquity. The waters flowed rapidly by. No power could stop them. Standing on one bank was a man who wore a shining crown and royal robes. But, oh ! upon his radiant brow were scars as if a crown of thorns had some time or other rested there ; and on his outstretched hands were marks, as if, some time or other, they had been pierced with nails. But, oh ! his face was lovely beyoi)d description, and wore a look of tenderness and compassion. A little farther down the stream was what appear- ed to be a beautiful temple ; its lofty domes and THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. 39 parapets, its glittering pinnacles and gorgeous inscriptions, were splendid in the sunbeams. Just over the main entrance was written, ** Worldly Pleasure," and over the entrance on either side were the wordS; *' Fame, Honour, Riches." There it stood, beautiful in the runlight, more costly and gorgeous than was ever Grecian temple erected to the gods. Just then, an airy skiff came floating down the stream, bearing a youth, who stood erect, his strong hand upon the helm, to guide the vessel. He looked upon one picture, and then upon the other. There was Jesus on one side ; there was the world upon the other. He hesitated a moment, and then pushed on for the alluring temple in the distance. But, oh ! as he came near it, the vision began to be broken, the glory departed, the lustre faded, until what appeared to be more than a regal palace became woise than a gloomy dungeon ; and there, instead of pleasure's shout, was heard the wail of disappointment and remorse; and there, instead of mirth and gaiety, were dying moans and fearful groans. The cheat was discovered when it was i 7 late. 40 THE DYING MOTHER AND HER PRODIGAL. : .. '• The picture I have given you of this youth is- not an imaginary one, but a fact, which thou- sands, I fear, have reahsed, ** Sin, when it is- finished, bringeth forth death." M ! Ml A MOUNTAIN SCENE. "' And when they were come to the place which is called Calvary, there they crucified him, " HE hour is come — the hour of ven- geance — of mysterious darkness, when - the high destinies of man are to be sealed with blood. It is the grand climax of all tragedies — the incarnate God atoning for human g'lilt. Let us turn aside and see this great sight. On the mountain summit three crosses rise high above the heads of a maddened popu- lace. The Roman soldiers, clad in armour, and with measured steps, uplifted spears and flash- in;-: h-i^hnets, march around the scene. By the cross of Jesus stands his mother, Maiy the v/ife of Cleophas, and Mary Mag- dalene. True to ihe cause they have espoused, these heroines, with a chivalry of a higher order t I 42 A MOUNTAIN SCENE.- i II n ( ; than ever animated knights of old, brave the tempest of hostility that rages around them. A strange phenomenon mar-ks the hour. *' There is darkness over all the earth." The sun draws over his flaming countenance the pall of night, wrapping in mournful silence and shrouding in awful gloom the awe-stricken mul- titude who stand in blank amazement around the cross. In thickest folds the storm of Divine vengeance gathers around the dying Victim, lashed into fury by fierce lightning, which flash and blaze in lurid s.v or around the silent habita'-ions of the dead, .aS if to wake into life the slumbering atoms of mortality, and re-ani- mate the long-forgotten dust of ages. The storm still sweeps on in wild sublimity, till the crosses " shake like cedars in a storm." The veil of the temple is rent by an unseen hand from the top to the bottom ; and the holy place exposed to public gaze. The thunder which rocked the mountains, and the lightning which flashed around the sacred summit, have now ceased and an unearthly quiet reigns. The shaking of the earth and the strange appearance of the heavens have had a manifest A MOUNTAIN SCENIZ. 43^ effect on the blasphemous crowd. Crucified by the side of Jesus is a malefactor, who is justly suffering the last penalty of the law. This man, says the Evangelist, like his companion, railed on Jesus; but when nature gave unmis- takeable evidences of his divinity, the scoffer's lips reviled not again. He saw in Him whom the people had been railing, the true Christ. He beheld glory, majesty and power, where others could see only shame, weakness and ignominy; and fixing his dying eyes on the illustrious suf- ferer by his side, he cried, " Lord remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." For a few moments, appalling silence reigns in heaven and on earth. Angels rush from their starry seats to watch the issue of that dying prayer. They first look on the dial of life, then at the deathless spirit, whose eternal destiny trem- bles in the balance. The hand of time is fast approaching the midnight hour, and no appa- rent effort has been made to save him. But there is an Omniscient eye, that never slumbers, watching the internal struggles of the dying culprit ; and every struggle brings him nearer to the Saviour. The heart of Emmanuel begins ^summ i < J. I 44 A MOUNTAIN SCENE. to heave; there is a power coming up, and now the promise comes, ringing from the Hps of the Saviour : " Verily, 1 say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." How sweet was the repose of that poor man as those precious words smote his ear! No prince that ever slept his last on couch of gold and velvet, whilst on his ears fell the softened strains of exquisite music and devout prayer, felt so profound a peace as did this male- factor on the cross. What a change came over him in these few brief moments ! As he was nailed to the tree, ^e fell back before the black eternity appalled: now he felt the fascination of a future, that filled iiis soul with expectation ; then ghastly death haunted and terrified him ; now to die was to be most happy; then he clings to life with the grasp of a master passion ; now its charms are no more, and he waited with bated breath foi the silver cord to be loosed ; for above him the harps of the angels were being tuned to welcome him to paradise, and the Saviour had whispered — '^ To-day." The darkness which had wrapped the earth in the thick folds of night, now vanishes as suddenly U A MOUNTAIN SCENE. 45 as the li^ht fled, and the sun once more looks down upon the traged}'. There are other specta- tors than those upon the fatal mount. Guards celestial on wings of fire sweep around the sum- mit, watching with intense anxiety every scene in the awful drama. With holy indignation they behold the black apostacy, in L>attle array, advancing with intrepid step to assail their Lord. Had He spoken, thrice three hundred thou- sand swords would have started from their scab- bards, and blazed with awful fury amongst His enemies, carrying destruction into the very ranks of the foe. The prince of darkness, seeing his opponent left alone to " tread the winepress" of Jehovah's wrath, ascends the mountain w.th a loud shout, followed by his fiery legions. For a moment the Redeemer bows beneath the strong arm of His antagonist, apparently defeated, and hell rings with acclamations of victory ; but ere their plaudits had ceased to echo along the plains of eternal night, the dying Victor advances, and planting His bruised heel on the old serpent's head, cries with a loud voice, "It is finished." '' But the frantic crowd knows 1 1 ] 46 A MOUNTAIN SCENE. not its meaninr;'; they curse and howl till the shades of evening gather, and the silent dew- drops fall, then slink ciway to their nightly repose, gorged with unholy wrath. But up yonder, amid jasp-jr walls and golden pavements — yonder, where the winged archangels keep the pearly gates — yonder, in heaven's resplen- dent sanctuary of light — the home of immor- tality, the asylum of the blest — yonder, where seraphs repose on golden clouds encircling emerald thrones, yes, there they know the full meaning of that dying cry, and hovering angels catch the song as it quivers on the Conqueror's lips, and " It is finished" becomes the seven-fold chorus of a jubilant heaven. "It is finished!'' trembles on the lips of every seraph, and be- comes the song of choral angels, as they travel to their several thrones of light. Hark! how it reverberates through all the tem- ples and pavilions of eternity. Raise it, every voice, sound it, every harp ; ye thrones and dominions, principalities and powers, pass along the rapturous acclaim: 3'e archangels, seraphim and cherubim, loud as the sound of many waters and mighty thunderings, raise, raise the over- A MOUNTAIN SCENE. 47 powering symphony, until every dwelling-place of universal being shall vibrate with the tri- umphant acclamation ! Ye martyrs of the cruci- fied, spirits of the just and mighty, as you waive your palms, shout! shout, for the Lord of Hosts has gotten the victor}' ! Let the mighty orbs that people immensity, as they revolve in their primeval glory, take up the theme, and launch it onward to the distant worlds scattered through illimitable space. Let the winds that howl in the storm-blast, and gently whisper in the breeze of summer, rehearse the matchless chorus. Let the waves of the ocean, as they roll in grandeur upon the beach, or, sighing, kiss the coral strands of distant lands, make known to all "that God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotton Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." " ' It is finished ! ' let th^ joyful sound Be heard the spacious earth around. ' It is finished ! ' let the echo fly Through heaven and hell, through earth and sky." " No fiat of Godhead ever equalled this. It included in it all others, whether in the realm 48 A MOUNTAIN SCENE. of matter or of mind, in the range of visible or invisible things. Ocean-like, it went surging back to the morn of creation, and onward to the last judgment, proclaiming salvation full and free to Adam and his posterity. It was a voice saying to the high priest, " Go ! thy work is. ended ! No longer need animal sacrifices bleed — no longer need the priest officiate — no longer need he array himself in the splendour of the pontifical robes — no longer is the glory of the visible Shekinah needed. No ! the time appoint- ed for that system to exist is over. No! the true Victim has been presented, the grand sacri- fice has been made. No ! the true priest hath appeared in the true tabernacle which the Lord hath pitched, and not man. No ! Christ has- abolished the law of commandments, contained in ordinances ; the pomp of the Jewish ritual has for ever passed away.' " . When Christ died the law of ceremonies died.. It had a long and solemn burial. Then what mean the Church of Rome and the Puseyites- to dig these ceremonies up, now rotten in the grave ? Still altars ! still priests ! sacrifices still ! ■ — still washings, still unctions, sprinkling,. A MOUNTAIN SCENE. 49 shaving — purifying still: all, and more than all. Let them hear Augustine's censure: — "Whoso- ever shall now use them, as it were raking them oiit of their graves, is an impious and sacrilegi- ous wretch." "What may we learn from the scene we have just reviewed. In the cross of the Redeemer we have the emhodiment of all that is suhlime and blessed. It forms the fullest manifestation of the perfections of Deity. It exhibits the foundation of reconciliation between God and man, and the source of eternal life to all who believe. The cross is the grand theme of the gospel ministry. To the cross the believer can ever look with confidence and joy. -His increas- ing acquaintance with its designs inspires him with increasing thankfulness and hope. Through all his conflicts he hears the words of the cruci- fied One, dispelling every fear from his mind, *' Be of good cheer ; I have overcome the world." Already the cross of the Redeemer has been the grand instrument of salvation to millions, and millions more shall yet come under its influence. Sinner, the battle of life is not yet lost. Hop*: points to Calvary. As one of Napoleons i I i 50 A MOUNTAIN SCENE. marshals once naid to him, "Sire, there's time enough to win a victory yet." You are not yet before the judgment-seat, nor is your probation ended. Rise at once and hasten to Christ. Come to Him with an honest confession of your guilt. There is a terrible score against you on God's book of remembrance. Go down on your knees, and ask Jesus to lift off that mountain- load of a life-long transgression. You have a great deal to confess. Let other people's sins alone and look at your own. Implore Jesus to pardon them for His love's sake and the sorrow of His bitter cross. ' It was a hard trial to my pride to make my first prayer,' sa^'d a stout-willed man, * but when my knee touched the floor my heart burst.' His sins were heavv, but the weight of God's love was heavier still, and it broke him down. As you have lost so much time already, you must be in quick earnest to come to Jesus. Treat the sin that stands in 3'our way as you would treat the person who stood in your way if you were rushing into your burning house to child. Does fear of man hinder? save your own [own Face it d( Let no one laue:h you out of A MOUNTAIN SCLNE. 51 It to your soul. Does business hinder? Make it your first business to seek God. Do pleasure-lovi..j; friends flood you with invitations to their enter- tainments? So is God invitinij you to the place of prayer. Whose invitation will you decline — man's or God's? If you would be saved, you must be in earnest. From a burnini; ship a crowd of passengers leaped out into the boats and cut them loose. One boat was so filled that it settled to the water's edj^e. One drown- ing man clung frantically to the boat's side. 'Throw him off!' v/as the cry in the boat; 'he will sink us.' Some one, seizing a knife, cut off the fingers that clutched the gunwale ; but the resolute creature flung his bleeding .am around the rudder and clung to that! 'His life is as precious to him as any of ours, let him hold on if he can,' was the tender cry that ran through the boat. That man was in earnest. He felt a thousand fathoms of cold ocean beneath him, saw death glaring at him in every wave. Shall a man be more earnest to save his natural life than you are to save your immortal soul? Come, then, my soul-smitten brother, to Christ. "The Spirit and the Bride say. Come." I ! 52 A MOUNTAIN SCEME. Young man, come to God, and satisfy thy heart- thirstings with the warm gushing streams that flow in one unb^^oken current from the side of Him who bled on Calvary. If age has pressed his freezing fingers on thy pulse, come; rest thy trembling spirit on the arms that alone can bear thee* up. Draw nigh, and grasp the robe of thy Saviour. He will never shake off thy feeble hold, but clasp thy band tenderlv m His own, and thou shalt lean on His eternal strength all through the vale of death's cold shadow. THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES, was just rising over the moun- Palestine, and flashinir his the bai f Iden beams c Mount Nebo, when Moses stood up to dehver his dying charge to Israel. The morning zephyrs, soft as the passage of an angel's wing, gently raised the silver locks from his noble forehead, while his flowing beard rested in silken tresses on his heaving bosom. Before him, scattered over the plain, were the white tents of Jacob, while around him stood the warriors of Israel, clad in the gaib of battle, and the priesthood, in their sacerdotal robes, with the ark of God in their midst. And this is the blessing wherewith Moses blessed the children of Israel before his death : f ! 54 THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. .... "There is none like unto the God of Jeshurun, who rideth upon the heavens in thy help, and in His excellency on the sky. The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms ; and he shall thrust out the enemy from before thee, and shall say, ' Destroy them.' Israel then shall dwell in safety alone; the fountain of Jacob shall be upon a land of corn and wine; also His he^ .ens shall drop down dew. Happy art thou, O Israel, who is like unto thee ! O people saved by the Lord, tlie shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excellency; and thine enemies shall be found liars unto thee, and thou shalt tread upon their high places." The last words of this solemn address had scarcely passed from the lips of Moses, when there came rolling up, like the roar of an ocean tempest, from that mighty host, a deep wail of lamentation which made the heart of the great lawgiver tremble. Josephus says, *' Amidst the tears of the people, the women beating their breasts, and the children giving way to uncontrol- lable wailing, he withdrew." Alone he ascended the rugged side of Nebo. For awhile he paused in THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. :)D his journey, and standing upon one of the pro- jecting rocks 0^ Pisgah, he allowed his eyes once more to look on a scene v/hich threatened to rend his heart asunder. Riglit beneath him were tlie people of his chcice, the companions of his toil, for whom he had forsaken the blandishments of a court and the brilliancy of a palace. Joshua, Eleazar, and the captains of the host of Isiael still stood watching him, their right hands rest- ing on the hilts of their polished swords; the mothers of Israel held their children high above that forest of human beings, and bade them look upon that lone figure standing on the mountain's side, while the daughters of Judah buried their faces in the earth and wept aloud. Again he turned to the ascent, and soon disap- peared for ever from the gaze of the multitude. He walked on, wrapped in profound meditation, up that lonely and untrodden mountain-path, the solitude of which was broken only by the sound of his own footsteps. When he reached the summit, and saw the place which Jehovah had chosen for his death-bed, may we not sup- pose that the following sentiments would be something like his feelings: "And are these rocks 56 THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. to be my dyinj; pillow, and this mountain brow my resting place, where thunder-clouds spend their fury, the lightnings gambol, and the grey- bald eagle builds her eyrie? Have I not carried the bones of Joseph these forty years in the wilderness, and they are to rest in the Promised Land, while mine lie bleached and scattered on this lonely mountain? Even so, Father; for so it seemeth good in thy sight. Thy will — thy holy will — unerring guide of all my steps, is right, and wise and good. Within the folds of thy unchanging love I find my soul secure ! O breathe the breath of endless life upon me now, and let mortality be left below on this bleak spot! I come to thee! O let me taste the pure ethereal joys that beam for ever in the open * vision of thy face! O blissful hour! sweetest moment of my life! I yield — I give up all to thee! I wait! I'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint, and sore; waiting till thou shalt bid me rise and come to the glory of thy pre- sence, to the gladness of thy home." •"'Aweary path I've travelled, 'mid the darkness, storm, and strife. Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life ; But the morn is breaking, my toils will soon l)e o'^r ; I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the door.'" THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 57 When the deep gush of feeling had ceased to flow, he heard a still small voice saying unto him, '' Moses! Moses!" He looked up, and lo and behold, there stood before him the same glorious Being who met him in a chariot of fire on the rugged steeps of Sinai. The mountain now assumed an aspect the most glorious. Lit up with the golden splendours of an eternal day, the savage cliffs of Nebo were changed into thrones of sapphire. Overpowered with the grandeur of the scene, Moses fell on his face; but Jehovah bade him arise and behold the in- heritance of his people. What a magnificent panorama lay spread out before him. Jordan rolled onward, its bright waters sparkling in the golden rays of the setting rsun, like diamonds in an angel's crown; palm trees shook their green tops in the sighing winds, and the vine clad hills of Canaan spread away in smiling beauty; while the sea of Galilee slept ki its mountain cradle, the gentle murmur of its waves falling upon his ear, like the dying strains of distant music. The last mournful gaze was turned on the thousands of Israel far below him, and then the ^ 58 THE DEAiH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. great law-giver lay down to die. As to the manner of his Jeath knoweth no man. There is one circumstance in his death which requires particular notice. It is said — He died — accord- ing to the word of the Lord. Dr. Clarke says, the original words al pi Yehovah, signify lite- rally, at (or upon) the mouth of Jehovah ; which Jonathan ben Uzziel interprets thus, " by a kiss of the word of Jehovah;" and this has given rise to an ancient tradition among the Jews, " that God embraced Moses, and drew his soul out of his body by a kiss." When it was over, Moses- lay a corpse on the mountain top, and " God buried him." " Was ever such distinction conferred upon a mortal ? Did ever human dust receive such honour? Ye may talk of the magnificence of human obsequies — the pomp and pageantry that gather round the hero's funeral car; the city hushed irrto a holiday of grief; the long pro- cession of the nation's chivalry ; the booming guns; the bell's dull clang; the crowded mins- ter; the organ's wail, and the solemn requiem — shuddering round the walls, and quivering to the dome, like a nation's sigh; — but bring ye all THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 59 your funeral pomp, and see it fade beside the one brief record of these unimaginable obsequies !" — *' The Lord buried him in a valley in the land of Moab." Who can describe the grandeur of that funeral ? The pomp of imagery utterly fails. The potentates of the earth and the pageantry of kingdoms formed no part in these obsequies. The equipage of royalty, and the deco- rations of human art, would have been lost amid the splendours of that funeral cortege. No droop- ing banner hung in sable folds over the heads of that funeral train ; no muffled drum sent forth its dull monotonous sounds ; no sigh was heard on Pisgah, or tear fell on its barren brow; none wept save Israel. No mortal eye saw that fune- ral go forth. Rank upon rank of thrones and dominions, principalities and powers, cherubim and seraphim formed that grand procession, still more and more their pomp revealing. They descended into a lonely vale over against Beth- pe®r, and Jehovah dug the sepulchre and laid the dead man there. What a burial! Who will venture to conceive the spectacle. The sun scarred and cloaked with mist; the night falling on the landscape like a pall ; the hills gathering 6o THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. up their solemn mantles; the sad moon rising silently and pale; the faces of the mountains smit with her ashy light; and the Lord himself in solitude and silence, laying the venerated dust in the mystery of the hills, while He bids the eternal mountains be its monument, and writes the epitaph with lightnings on their brow ! Where now is the pomp of human sorrow? Let your urns and your pyramids, your gorgeous mausoleums and monumental marbles crumble into the dust, as they surely will, poor perishable mockeries of human pride, and own that this death of loneliness and dishonour was marked by a glory unparalleled and alone, though the clouds were the only curtains round his death- bed, and the mountains the only mourners round his grave. Such honour have not all his saints. Not for them is a grave opened by Omnipotence, and the " gates of the hills charged with the secret." "And no man knoweth of his sepulchre until this day." • Rest on in thy unknown grave, thou venerable servant of the Most High God! Though no colossal monument stands o'er thy remains to point the passing pilgrim to thy resting-place, THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MOSES. 6i thy memory is still precious to the Israel of God ! Though thou wast denied an entrance into Canaan, thou hast entered the land of heavenly promise, which God hath given thee for an everlasting inheritance, where thy sun shall go down no more forever. Where thou art there is no agitation, no fear, no alarm; thy crown shall never lose its lustre, thy robe its purity, nor thy harp its rich and seraphic cadence. How unlike this thy wilderness journey, chequered like the twilight of morning with the shades of evening. But it is past! Thy sorrows have vanished like a cloud, to re-appear no more ! Bright and changeless is the hemisphere of thy spirit ! Thou hast long since met with those who were thy companions in the wilderness, and I expect ere long to see thy face. Till then, farewell. A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. BOUT three hundred miles from the Persian Gulf, on the River Euphrates, is the site where "Babylon the Great, the glory of kingdoms, and the beauty of the Chaldeans' excellency," once stood. Nations beheld her with admiration and dread. Kings dethroned by her conquests, were led in chains through her spacious streets — pleasing spectacles for a proud and ambitious populace to gaze upon. Through her magnificent gates passed in silent grief the captive King of Israel, and the bleeding fragment of the Jewish nation. In that band of exiles, clinging, childlike, to the travel stained raiment of their broken-hearted mothers, were the youths Daniel and Ezekiel, who afterwards became so famous for their pro- phetic utterances. l! il 64 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. The evening sun throws his gorgeous colour- ing on the towers, and temples and palaces, of Babylon.] Deeper grandeur still. Crimson as of blood, and gold as of Ophir, and diamond as of the Orient. Then the magnificent glory fades, and the moon shines clear in the vast expanse. Silence breathing over Babylon! The colos- sal city rises towards the starry sky; massive, ponderous, immense. Far off the voice of a solitary lion comes at times. Then the cry of a lonely night-bird winging over head, with slow, dull clang. A million lamps, with oil scented, light up the joyous capital. They spread their splendour on the dark and silent plain, which stretches far away from the huge walls. There is the sound of timbrel and lute, and dulcimer and song. The noise of merriment increases. Thousands of gay and glittering forms crowd the street. The royal palace sparkles with living gems. The great hall is filled with guests, robed in garnients of azure,, scarlet and gold. The brilliant lights turn into living glow the emerald, and sapphire, and topaz. i' A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 65 Belshazzar is surrounded by a thousand of his lords; his wives and his concubines. Sel- dom does night look down upon such a scene of splendour. Gems of jewelled lustre nestle in quiet beauty upon the heaving bosoms of the ladies of the court, whose flowing hair, in curls luxuriant, rests in downy softness upon their shoulders, and their attire throughout presents a scene of magnificence and extravagance, which the trea- sures of Babylon could alone upliold. The banquet-room is not less gorgeous than the assemblage ; column within column, arch above arch, long corridors, splendid statues of kings that have reigned, statesmen that have governed, and warriors that have bled and died for the empire. It is illuminated by lights from a thousand candlesticks, beneatli which is a table spread with vessels of gold, filled with luxuries from all climes. The music swells into a grander tone; the flowers breathe sweet odours, and eyes sparkle with intenser lustre. The king, wild with excite- ment, pushes round the wine goblet, and offers libations to the memory of their celebrated gods 66 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. (proper deities to preside at such assemblies, where imprudence and excess are prompted). Belsiiazzar, not content with blending idolatry and voluptuousness together at the luxurious feast, adds sacrilege to his sins. He commands the gold and silver vessels which his father Nebuchadnezzar had taken out of the temple at Jerusalem, to be brought, that he and his Princes, his wives, and his concubines, might drink therein. The golden and silver vessels which had been conseciated by sacred hands to the worship of the Almighty, are filled with wine, and passed round to the jubilant assembly, whj applaud the king, hurl defiance at Israel's i. od, and vow destruction to the captive Jew. But while Belshazzar is filling the sacred vessels, and passing them round to his Pagan lords, the thought never flashes across his mind that the God of Heaven, whom he is insulting, is filling the vials of his indignation, and His messengers are preparing to pour them out on him and his kingdom. In the midst of the ' banquet, a strange phenomenon arrests the attention of the royal guests. The king is the first to behold it, and, A NIGHT SCENE IN BAHYLON. ey as if smitten by paralysis, the wine goblet falls from his hand, and transfixed with horror, he cits, .gazing on the strange phenomenon. The prmces, in dread amazement, and breathless silence, stand, and point the reeling lords to the mysterious hand, which leaves behind it characters lliey cannot understan'L The concu- bines of the King, shrieking, fall as if by lightning smitten. Pale and insensible they lie, with dishevelled hair and garments rent. The melody of instruments ceases, the fingers which wrung out sweet music from the liarp refuse to move, the sumptuous banquet is o'er. But why this alarm ? — Why this sudden change ? — What is it that sends terror to the hearts of the Babylonian knights ? Is it the appearance of some angry cherub, like him whom God appointed to guard the way to the tree of life ? Or an instrument of death, sus- pended from the ceiling of the palace over the king's head, like that which hung over Darnoclcs, the base flatterer of a Sicilian tyrant, and disturbed his peace in the midst of a ban- quet? " No; it is simply the fingers of a man's hand, writing over against the candlestick on 68 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. H the wall of the palace ; and the king saw the part of the hand that wrote. He saw it, and trembled. His countenance is changed from cheerfulness and hilarity to sudden paleness, and his thoughts trouble him — thoughts of the past and the future. His sins, in dread array, stand before his eyes, and so alarm him that his joints are loose, and his knees knock together. As he continues to watch those letters of flame, burning with lurid splendour, he becomes more alarmed; and giving expression to his feelings, he cries aloud, '"Bring in the Astrolo- gers, the Chaldeans, and the Soothsayers." Messengers are despatched in all haste for the magicians. The greatest confusion still reigns amongst the illustrious guests. The ladies ot the Court who are restored to consciousness bury their faces in their hands, not daring to look up. The suspense is awful, minutes seem lengthened into hours — *' They come! they come!" shouts an officer of the imperial guard. The wise men enter, the astrologers taking the lead. They approach the king; who, manifest- ing much agitJrtion says, *' Whosoever shall read this writing and show me the interpreta- A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 69 tion thereof, shall be clothed with scarlet, and have a chain of gold abc U his neck, and shall be the third ruler in the kingdom." But they stand confused and speechless, gazing first on the king, and then on the writing they had come to interpret. This failure on the part of the magicians adds tenfold terror to the scene. In the meantime, news of the strange occurrence had spread throughout the palace. Having reached the ears of the Queen Dowager, she hastened to the banqueting-room, and being informed that the wise men could not explain the vision, and that the agony of the king was caused by his inability to comprehend it, she turned to his majesty, saying, '* O king, live for ever: let not thy thoughts trouble thee, nor let thy countenance be changed : there is a man in thy kingdom in whom is the spirit jf the holy gods; and in the days of thy father light and understanding and wisdom, like the wisdom of the gods, v/as found in him: whom the King Nebuchadnezzar, thy father, made master of the Magicians, Astrologers, Chaldeans, and Sooth- sayers. Forasmuch as an excellent spirit and knowledge, and understanding, interpreting of ^ 70 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. dreams, and showing of hard sentences, and dissolving of doubts, were found in the same Daniel, whom the king named Belteshazzar : now let Daniel be called, and he will shew the interpretation." Daniel is summoned before the king. The Hebrew captive enters, now nearly ninety years of age, but still preserving the traces of his once majestic beauty. His dark hair is flung back from his forehead, and rests promiscuously upon his shoulders. He approaches the king, and fixing his dark, piercing eyes upon the agitated monarch, waits in solemn silence the king's command. And the king spake and said unto Daniel, " Art thou that Daniel which art of the children of the captivity of Judah, whom the king, my father, brought out of Jewry ? I have even heard of thee that the spirit of the gods is in thee, and that light and understanding, and excellent wisdom, are found in thee; and now the wise men, the Asfero- logers, have been brought in before me, that they should read this writing, and make known unto me the interpretation thereof, but they could not show the interpretation of the thing, and I have heard of thee that thou canst make A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 71 interpretations and dissolve doubts. Now it" thou canst read the writing and make known the. interpretation thereof, thou shalt be clothed with scarlet, and have a chain of gold about thy neck, and shalt be the third ruler in the kingdom." The venerable prophet restraining the feelings of honour and indignation which the sight of the sacred vessels roused within his bosom, replied to the king with calmness ; but it was with the calmness of a judge enumerating his crimes, and pronouncing the sentence of his punishment. He reminded him, to what a state of grandeur and power the Almighty had raised his illustrious grandfather, and how Nebuchad- nezzar had offended God by his pride. He also recalled to his memory the humiliating details of the insanity with which the prince was pun- ished. And then he added, with awful sternness, And thou, his son, O Belshazzar, hast not hum- bled thine heart though thou knewest all this, but hast lifted up thyself against the Lord of Heaven ; and they have brought the vessels of His house before thee, and thou and thy lords, thy wives and thy concubines, have drunk wine lit 72 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. in them ; and thou hast praised the gods of silver and gold, of brass, iron, wood and stone, which see not, nor hear, nor know, and the God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy ways, hast thou not glorified. This is that which was written before thee, by a mysterious hand sent to check thee at thy impious banquet, ' Mene, mene, tekel, uphar- siN.' And this is the interpretation thereof: Mene, God hath numbered thy kingdom and finished it. Tekcl, thou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting. Peres thy king- dom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians." The ill-fated Belshazzar hears his doom with horror. The princes stand aghast, the lords are seized with terror, while tears drip through the jewelled fingers of the ladies. This terrible denunciation had scarcely been delivered, when two detachments of the Medes and Persians, commanded by Cyrus, entered the city by the bed of the Euphrates. Trumpets peal, banners wave in the night breeze, and as they march along they slaughter the people indiscriminately. A courier is des- patched in haste to the king, like an arrow A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 73 «hot from a bow ; he passes the guard at the palace gates, and rushing into the banquet hall, shouts, " Serious things ! serious things ! the Persians have entered the city." The king, grasping his sword, leaps from his throne, and rushes out to defend his kingdom. The Persians meet the king and his guard just as they are coming forth from the palace. They defend themselves bravely, but are cut down and trampled under foot, and the excited conquerors stream through the royal apart- ments. As the ladies of the Court beheld the plumes of the Medes and the Persians, shaking like cedars in a storm, among the Babylonian princes, and their polished swords drinking their blood at every stroke, they fell at the feet of their conquerors, but plead in vain for their lives. What a sight would that hall present on the following morning ! Princes and warriors and fair women had fallen by the sword, and together they lay; rank and strength and beauty were mingled in the confusion of death ; drinking cups half emptied, broken swords, shattered lyres, and dishevelled plumes were scattered in indescribable disorder. The 74 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. ■ I I ■ t dance had ceased, the music was heard no more, gorgeous robes were stift' with blood, ghttering jewels were trampled into common dirt, and nothing disturbed the silence that brooded o'er the desolating scene, save the stealthy footfall of some plunderer of the dead, or the wild wail of some bereaved mourner. The banquet hall of Belshazzar had become the banquet hall of the king of terrors. How hath the mighty fallen ! The gigantic monarchy is no more. Her throne of fretted ivory is buried in the dust ; her palaces, with all their regal splendour, have passed away ; and wild beasts now prowl over the very spot where kings sat enthroned amid the pride and chivalry of an empire : '' Belshazzar's grave is made, His kingdom passed away, He, in the balance weigh'd, Is light and worthless clay ; His shroud, the robe of state. His canopy, the stone ; The Mede is at his gate, The Persian on his throne 1" Prophecy has been fulfilled ; it hath become a heap of ruins, the dwelling place of dragons^ an astonishment and a hissing. A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 75 IS, What a sudden and awful transition ! From the banquet hall of a palace to the prison house of the damned ! From a crown sparkling with jewels to a coronet of fire ; from a purple robe, embroidered with gold, to the sackcloth of ever- lasting mourning ; from imperial power to eternal slavery ; from the society of princes to the companionship of fiends ; from the music of the harp and the rich cadence of the lyre, to terrific shrieks and agonizing groans ; from the light of day to an eternal night. Nearly 2,500 years have passed away since the Almighty sealed the doom of Belshazzar, and no ray of light has ever penetrated his gloomy abode. With him it will ever remain an undisturbed and unbroken night. Doubtless he had passed many a sorrowful and painful night ; experience had taught him that "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." But no night to him was like this — a dark, tempestuous, sleepless, restless, and painful night. No orb in regal splendour ever floats across its sable sky, fringing with silvery light the dark shadows which brood over the spirits of the lost. No star of hope trembles amid 76 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. the gloom, to cheer with heavenly beams their forlorn and abject condition. No light from Calvary skirts its horizon. This occurrence teaches us the insecurity of human life. The Babylonians never thought when the evening feast commenced that their end was so near — that the music would so soon be hushed in the silence of death, and that that very night their souls would be required of them. There was nothing in the aspect of affairs to create alarm; trusting in their huge fortifications, they lay down to dream that night with minds as free from fear of danger as on any previous night. *' Yet this was the very hour when ruin, with swift and silent foot, was approaching their doors ; they were as one who walketh blindfold over some precipice, or into the mouth of a burning crater." My dear reader, are you trusting in the same false security, crying '' Peace, peace !" when there is no peace? Think of the night in Babylon we have just reviewed. It was not on the battle-field where death, with swift and silent wing, passes from column to column of A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. 77 hostile armies, bedewing the green grass with the blood of the brave — it was not on the ocean, surrounded by dashing, foaming waves, lashed into fury by the wild hurricane ; but when all seemed serene, and no thought of danger was nigh, Belsha;?zar and his lords sat down to their sumptuous banquet , yet, *' in that night was Belshazzar, the King of the Chaldeans, slain." Again, the occurrence teaches us the awful consequences of procrastination, and the great need of a preparation for death. How brief is the season of probation, and how soon it is gone ! It was written on the grave of a child, " Sic transit gloria mundi :" so passeth the glory of the world. " Let us work while it is called to-day ; for the night Cometh, when no man can work." Among the beautiful fables of the Orientals, there is one which speaks of a certain man who made an image in human shape, and so con- structed it, that it could speak and dictate important duties. Having completed it, he lay down to rest, setting his servant to watch, with a charge to awaken him whenever the image }• ■; ( : ■: 78 A NIGHT SCENE IN BABYLON. should say anything of importance. After a while the colossal statue opened his brazen mouth, and uttered in solemn and meaning tone the words — ''Time is." The servant did not think these words of much consequence, and permitted the master to sleep on. After a time, the image uttered his voice again, in these words — "Time was." The servant did not think these words conveyed any important meaning, and still permitted his master to slumber. After a space the massive image spoke again, in these words — "Time is past." Time is — time was — time is past. He sprang to seize Time and to obey; but it was too Ir'e. Time had passed, and the master fell dead at the idol's feet. With you the momentous words are — "Time is!" Now is the motto of the tacred oracles; NOW is the watchword of the wise. Now is on the banner of the prudent. "To-day is thy scanty pittance; the golden chance wherewith to snatch fruition." Now is the accepted time, and behold, now is the day of salvation. in! HOME, MODERN writer describes home as "heaven's fallen sister." It is a star that shines in every horizon, and a flower that blooms in every soil. It is not the princely mansion, beautiful landscape, rippling streams, and flowers of glorious beauty that make home, but where the affections dwell. It may be amid the savage clifts of some rugged mountain like Horeb, where Elijah prayed; or in the jungle, where the wild grass waves to the morning breeze, and the ferocious tiger seeks a shade from the heat of India's sun. It may be in the deep-tangled forest where the pine tree rears its withered trunk, or in the gloomy cave where profound silence reigns, and dark, dark night for ever broods; it may be on the sea- washed shore, where the last survivors of a 8o HOME. wreck are gathered together in one shivering group; or on the lonely desert, where the wild Arab pitches his tent. It may be in the worm- eaten garret where the beggar Hes down to die, or around the gipsies' fire, the star-Ht heavens for their covering, and the wild grass for theircouch. ** Home is one of the blessings that has survived the ruins of the fall." A relic of man's primeval state, which infinite beneficence guarded from the lightning of His indignation. Home is an oasis in the wilderness of life where human spirits meet in fraternal greetings. It is the morning star of our existence, and the evening star of our declining years. It is the rainbow upon the thunder-cloud that tells us of a quiet reti'eat from the tempest of misfortune and calamity. Home is the garden of the affections, where the choicest flowers grow and even die, but not before their fibres have taken deep root in the parent soil, and the tendrils have entwined tiicmselves around tlie sire's afiections. The strongest attachment and warmest endearment of Irfe arc found here. Home is the asylum of a mother's love. What ties are so imperishable as those which bind the mother to her offspring. HOME. 8x 1^ With what interest does she watch the open- ing faculties and dawning intelHgence of her child. His education, moral culture, and pro- spects for life absorb her thoughts. Is he afflicted? Night after night she watches by his couch, bathing his fevered brow, and ministeriiig to his necessities. However contagious may be the disease, and jeapordized her life, she leaves not the sufferer. Should h( become un- fortunate, and clouds of sorrow darken his path, and those who were his friends in prosperity leave him, there is one retreat to wliich he can flee — the asylum of a mother's love. He may forget her, and disregard her warning voice, and be unmoved by her tears; but she cannot for- get him. We may go stih further, and follow that son through a career of crime. He may violate the laws of his country, and become the inmate of a prison. Yet, however heinous may be the crime he has perpetrated, there is one heart which e^'eI• beats true to the prodigal.- Not long ago we had a man confined in one of our condemned cells, under sentence of death for poisoning his wife. Men of influence tried to avert the sentence. Barristers aroused their ': I fST-sam wamtmasmmKn IJ m In !! 82 HOME. energies, ministers and editors spoke and wrote in favor of the culprit. Even his widowed and broken-hearted mother sent a memorial to the Queen, earnestly requesting her to mitigate the sentence, and spare the life of her son. All m England watched with deep solicitude the result, hut all proved a failure. The extreme penalty of the law was carried out. But he died not alone; two lives were sacrificed! Home is a school for the culture of the strongest religious feelings, and principles. The impressions made on us by a parent's religious teachings, prayers, and example, are the deepest and inost abid- ing that the mind receives. They linger with us long after impressions from other sources have faded away. No son can wander so far from a Christian home as to be beyond the reach of its religious influences. He may leave the laughing streams and woodlands of his rural home, and take up his residence in a distant city, where new scenes and duties engage his attention He may 'et go the reins of pas- sion, and revel in the whirlpool of dissipation — associate with the gay, and make the opera and the saloon the place of his evening resort, but HOME. 83 in the midst of all his revelry, whispering voices will tell him of his home — of a pious father'ry anxiety, of a mother's solicitude concerning him. Wlierever he may be, the influences of home will follow him as so many "angel messengers" thronging his pathway, and pointing hack to his home. If the son of pious parents is out upon the broad ocean, he will carry with him the re- membrance of his Christian home. The Bible in his chest, placed there by a mother's hand, will remind him of her tender care and counsel. In the midnight storm, when the raging tempest is roaring, and death is rushing on the gale, the sailor-boy will think of home, and the warm in- rj^ence that is felt there in his welfare. I remember reading an account of a storm at sea, which came on suddenly, and with such violence as to make the bravest heart on board ship quail. The infuriated winds, the foam- crested waves, the forked lightning, the bending masts, and the wild melancholy music of the shrouds, all seemed as so many harbingers of approaching death. At the moment when the tempest in terrific grandeurwas sweeping around the brave ship, the cabin-boy hastened to the 84 HOME. captain and assured him that they would outride the storm. ** What reason have you for think- ing so?" asked the captain. " Sir," said he, *' this is the time for evening prayer at home^ and I know father and mother are praying for me." Nor was he disappointed. The storm ceased, the dark clouds fled, and the beautiful stars shone down upon the waters, and it was ascertained afterwards that at that hour the family were engaged in earnest devotion, and that the absent son was commended to Him who controls the waves and can hush the fury of the storm. You may have read of the orphan sailor who left his home at an early age, and after years spent in vice, returned to his native village in search of his widowed mother. Ap- proaching the old homestead, he knocked at tiie door, but no one came to admit him, he called aloud, but received no reply; all was silent as the tomb. / 1 length a neighbour, see- ing his anxiety and cistress, inquired of him whom he was seeking. Scarcely able to give utterance to his words, for he feared the worsts he stammered out the r ame of his mother and little brother. The neigiibour, in tones of tender- HOME. 85 ness, and with a heart touched with sympathy, informed him that the boy had been dead a year ago, and this severe affliction, together with the mother's distress and anxiety for a son long ab- sent at sea, had hurried her to the grave ; '* but yesterday the good woman was buried." The in- telligence went like an arrow to the young man's heart, he could not find words to express his bitter anguish in being the cause of so much grief to a pious and devoted mother. Could he have seen her but for one hour — could he have mingled one drop of consolation in her cup of sorrow. But yesterday she was lowered into the cold grave, the fresh sods marked her rest- ing place, whither the young man would have gladly gone, that he might have died with her. The neighbour, on learning that he was the widow's eldest son, said she had a letter for him which his poor mother wrote a few days before she died, and desired the neighbour, should he ever return, to give to him. The following is a correct copy — " My dcarost only Son,— When this reaches you I shxll bo no more ; your little brother hiisg:one before me, and I cannot but hope and beliiive that he was prepared. I liad fondly boped that I should once more have seen you on the shore of I j • iih 86 HOME. mortality, but thii) hope is now relinquished. I have followed you by my prayers through all your wandering ; often while you have little suspected it ; even in the dark cold night of win- ter I have prayed for my lost son. There is but one thing that gives me pain iit dyinj;, and that is, my dear William, that I must leave you in this witktd world, as I feat, unreconciled to your Maker. I am loo feeble to say more, my glass is run. As you visit the sod th.it cover:- my dust.^ O ! remember that you must foUow. farewell ! The last breatli of your mother will be spent in praymg for you. that we may meet above." How sublime and touching were tlie thoughts and feehngs of that dying mother. How strong must have been the emotions of parental affec- tions, to enable her to rise superior to death, and grasp the pen with fmgers fast stiffening, to inscribe on paper an appeal, by which, though dead, she cnuld speak to the heart ot her prodi- gal. The love of home is universal. It is the twin- feeling to that of life. The rude savage loves the primeval forests of his native land better than all the grandeur and associations of civilized life. The Israelites as they sat by Babel's stream. w;t'r. their harps hung on the willows exclaim as niemory recalled the hallowed scenes of home. " If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning ; if I do not remember thee let my tongue cleave to the roof HOME. 87 of my mouth ; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy." The thouj^jhts of Zion drew tears from their eyes. " They wept when they re- membered Zion." Joseph when he became an Egyptian prince, and was surrounded by the glittering pomp and proud magnificence of that vast empire, he could not forget the white tents of Jacob. The exile, torn by the rude hand of tyranny from his home and kindred, dreams of the land that gave him birth. You may have seen that beautiful picture called " The Soldier's Dream." A soldier wrapt in his Highland plaid is lying upon the shore of the sea at cundown ! His horse is near; arms are scattered about, and some bro- ken cannon. Over the sea in the distant west the sun is fast sinking, it is half beneath the sea, and the soldier lies there sleeping and dreaming. Above him is a picture of his dream ; he dreams that the battle is over, that he is go- ing up the Highland valley, that he sees his cottage, that the door is thrown open, and that one he knows well runs swiftly out, his arms are thrown apart, he clasps that one to his bosom, and his children cling about him. tif I a i 88 HOME. An American correspondent fjives the follow- ing touching incident which came under his notice at the close of the battle of Fort Donelson. "A dark-haired man of apparently twenty-two or three years of age, I found leaning against a tree, his breast pierced by a bayonet. He said he lived in Alabama; that he joined the rebels in opposition to his parent's wishes; that his mother, when she found that he would go into the army, had given him her blessing, a Bible, and a lock of her hair. The Bible lay half-open on the ground, and the hair — a dark lock tinged with grey — that had been within the leaves, was in his hand, and tears were in his eyes as he thought of his anxious mother, pausing, per- haps, amid her prayers, to listen for the long- expected footsteps of her son who would never- more return. In that lock of hair, even more than in the sacred volume, religion was revealed to the dying man; and I saw him lift the tress again and again to his lips and kiss it, as his eyes looked dimly across the misty sea that bound tlic shore of life from death, as if he saw his mother reaching out to him the arms that had nursed him in his infancy! HOME. 89 )rc led ;ss his lat tiw lat Wherever you go, you can find no place like horn e. ou may travel east, west, north, and south, in s arch of variety and beauty. Vou may go to Arabia, where groves of palm trees shake their green tops in the breeze ; 01 to Greenland, letf »f stars stud th( 'nere coront heavens and icebergs glisten like polished dia- monds in the night-queen's rays. You may go to Africa, where lakes sleep in solitary grandeur, or to America, and sit down amid the wild pomp of her mountains and the sublime silence of her forests ; go where you please, you can find no place like home. It is our tent, however frequently we strike it; it is our company, whether we lodge in it, or whe- ther it be sent over while we are left alone. The mother (^f the crucified Jesus, grief-absorbed beneath tliat awful tragedy, has gained half her relief and recovered all her composure, when the beloved disciple is seen leading her to his home. Blessed is the habitation of the just! Beautiful are the habitations of the righteous I Patriotism cannot exist without its homestead ! Religion dies without its altar-hearth ! Let me point you to another home — a home i > . I •1 ;* •i i ^ I .a % tf |l, 90 HOME. bright with celestial glory — a home of abiding friendship, and angelic love — a home where sorrow never enters, and death never comes. There you shall be at rest. "There shall gather around you the family of the redeemed. Each countenance wears an unfading smile ; the eye knows no tear; there is endless greeting; the heart swells with rapture ; there is a full tide of love. Identity and variety lend their charms. It is our house ! My Father's house ! Where in distant space rise thy pmnacles? Where sweep thy mansions ? Where in tlie star-kindled firmament is thy ethereal dome ? When shall mine eyes see thee ? When shall my feet stand in the midst of thee ? When shall thy children all be brought home? When shall the latest born have passed thy gate ? When shall the hymn of that great assembly salute the ear, and bless the grace of Him who hath said ' I will be a Father unto you? Oh, that I had wings, like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest!'" All you who have wanderedjfrom your Father's house. Come home! The mansion gates stand open to receive you. Then why delay ? The HOME. 91 banquet is prepared and the gue.its are waiting your arrival. The robe, the shoes, and the rinjjj are ready. Come home! before it be too late. Hark ! the storm is gathering;. The thunder of the Almighty's voice is heard from Sinai, and its barren crest is on a bla;je with the lightning of His indignation. Come home! before the tidal wave of death overtakes you, and you are carried away to be tossed upon the desolate shores of eternal woe. Co)iic home! while mercy weeps upon the neck of justice, and ministers of Jesus point you to the Cross, all stained and dripping with redeeming blood. Then Come Home, while mansions, thrones, crowns, and harps appear in view; while parents, wives, and children, long since dead, shout with one harmonious voice, *' Come Home !" "They are gathering homewards from every land, One by one, As their weary feet touch tlic golden strand. One by one, Their travel-stained garments are all laid down, Their brows are encircled in a golden crown, And, clothed in white raiment, they rest on the mead Where the Lamb loveth His chosen to lead, One by one ! m m sTVj %, A^ <>?...> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y d I ,<" ce 'f^r s t-p y 1.0 I.I 1.25 IIIM 1112,5 IIM IIIII2.2 e IIIM if 4 2.0 !.4 1.8 1.6 Vi (^ /} % 'a. '?i '^ Photographic Sciences Corporation s. a? V - ir ^^1 io8 HOPE. the appointed time had come, it wai< seen in the person of Jesus Christ, the Sun ot" Ri<^ijteoas- ness, who scattered the grim shades of nij^ht which had brooded for ages over the abyss of iniquity. ** Those that sat in darkriess saw a great light," and the dwellers in the region <>t" the shadow of death came forth from their liiding places to behold the glory of the Lord. It con- tinued to increase in magnitude and became more resplendent ; but never did it uppear so imposing as when it pillowed its shining bosom^ or concentrated its beams, in one grand t'ocusv upon Calvary. Then it became the ensign to the wanderer in the unblest vnle oi' time. Upon that sacred summit hangs the sinner's- only hope; there may the prodigal tind lii& Father's house, and the lost one a refuge trom the gathering tempest. Sinner, cast tiiere thy swimming eyes; though beaten by the storm* of an unfriendly world, hope lingers for thee in the fountain of thy Saviour's blood. -Look unto me," He says, "and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth." The Christian's hope rests on the Kock of Ages. The strong arm of the hurricane may HOPE. 109 tear up tht sturdy oak, and engulph the strong- buili barque : earthquakes in their march may shaktr iht pillars of the globe, and bury in the dusi tlie strongest monuments of human art; bui no p(»vver can shake the foundation of the Christ ici US liope. At Calvary "Justice lingers into lo\'t. purity proffers pardon, grace triumphs on the throne of truth ; Hope casts her anchor •deep within the veil far below the surface into thf hidden truths that lie beneath." Though troubles may assail and trials sweep their angry surjj^es lieyvily around, yet the ''anchor is sure and stead I H St." Yes. uhen our frail barque is being shattered by the Ihsi storm, and every human prop is givin^^ v\ ay. Christ alone can bear us up. S(»me year.*; ago, a ship was wrecked on the stormy coast of Cornwall. It was a time of great dan»rer. but the Lord in his infinite mercy allowed n<» lives to be lost. On the following Sabbath the rescued sailors attended Divine service in the nearest parish church. The .clergyman who officiated was aware of the cir- cum.aances. and endeavoured to improve them .to the benefit of his audience. At the conclusion I ^ 's 11 no HO^E. of his sermon he spoke with great earnestness of the sinner's danger, and the readiness of Christ to save. Among other things, "Imagine," said he, ''the situation of a drowning man, who feels that all his own efforts are unavailing, and that he is fast sinking beneath the overwhelming waters; imagine what would be his feelings if suddenly a plank floated within his reach, and if, taking hold of it, he found that it would bear his weight. My fellow-sinner, that is your case and my own. We are Hke the drowning mari- ner; Christ is the plank of safety. This plank will bear; O refuse it not; delay not to seize upon it." The Sabbath passed away, and by degrees the incident was erased from the good man's remembrance. Fourteen years after- wards he received a message, couched in language irresistible, summoning him to a death-bed scene in a village at a considerable distance ; he, having a strong desire to save a soul from death, obeyed the call. On entering the room, he was directed to the bed of the sufferer. For a few moments he stood and watched the poor man, who was a perfect stranger to him, struggling with his stern and HOPE. Ill powerful adversary, and perceiving his moments were swiftly passing away, he knelt down be- side the bed, and said, "My brother, you have sent for me, and I am come; you are on the verge of that awful transition which awaits us all, will you tell me on what hope you are rest- ing for eternity?" The dying man was evidently conscious, but the power of speech seemed gone. ** My brother," continued the clergyman, " if you can no longer speak, will you give me a sign, a token to tell if your hope is now in Christ." The poor man made a mighty effort, and with a tremulous voice, just audible, whis- pered in the ear of the messenger of mercy, ** The plank bears." These words sent a thrill of rapture through the clergyman's soul — that long-forgotten sermon had not been preached in vain. " The plank bears," cried the dying man, as he was borne on the mountain-swell of the last river ; '' It bears," he faintly articulated, as he receded from the gaze of weeping friends who stood upon the shore. Yes, sinner, the plank will bear ; venture on it, grasp it firmly, for on it, and on it alone, depends thy everlast- ing welfare. I 112 HOPE. The Christian's hope entereth into that within the veil. " Christ hath brought Hfe and immor- tahty to light." The mcst rude and barbarous nations cherish the hope of a second life — an existence beyond the cold, unconscious tomb. The hope of immortality is a star that shines in every horizon. It is seen in the burial of the forest-cradled Indian; amid polar snows, where Franklin breathed his last ; on the banks of the silvery Ganges, and around the tent of the wild Arab; in the flower-wreathed tombs of China ; the catacombs of Rome ; and the pyramids of Egypt. What is to the heathen a probability, is to us a grand reality; they have the outline, we the development. Eternal things appear to them in obscure grandeur; they have been revealed to us by the Gospel. Life and Immortality — those mighty champions of the Christian faith — have appeared upon the vast theatre of time with a halo of fadeless glory encircling their brows, leading death in chains, and the grave in complete destruction. The grand old prophecy is fulnlled, **0h, grave, I will be thy plague; Oh death, I will be thy destruction." HOPE. "3 I Hope has erected her throne upon every tomb, and, queen-like, waves her sceptre over the dominions of death. She has written on every grassy mound and marble column the epitaph — not that which the infidels of France wrote over the gates of their cemeteries — *' Death, an eternal sleep," but, ** The hour is coming in which all that are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth." When the archangel shall have blown the trumpet for the dead to arise, Hope will leave her imperial seat, and will cease to ! reign : " Eternal Hope, when yonder spheres sublime, Pealed their first notes to sound the march of time, 'Twas then thy joyous youth began— but not to fade When all the sister planets have decayed, When wrapt in fire the realms of ether glow, And heaven's last thunder shakes the world below, Thou undismayed shall o'er the ruin smile, And light thy torch at nature's funeral pile." U t6 THE GOSPEL FLEET. meet the spiritual necessities of the human race, the Captain of our salva- tion has established on life's rugged and stormy coast several naval stations, where vessels are built and sent forth to cruise on the broad ocean of time. Mark ! not all which bear the King's name belong to the service. There, lying at anchor in the roadsteads, is a large and noble looking vessel ; some of her crew look like Roman priests, but the majority are fine athletic men, whose deeds of valor are worthy of being chronicled in marble. There is a h^avy strain upon her cable just now, and her crew fear that ere long she will break from her state moorings. This vessel is the ENGLISH EPISCOPALIAN. Not least among the many ships in the King's service is the fine old "Presbyterian" frigate. ;-l : ii6 THE GOSFEL FLEET. She has come out of many a battle with her yards almost stript of canvas, yet she has never had to chronicle a defeat ; and if her present seamen are equal in courage and nautical skill to those who manned her in earlier days, her future is indeed an enviable one. There, gliding in solemn majesty over the un- ruffled waters, is an admirable vessel, designated the ** Baptist." In the early part of her cruise, she had many fierce storms to encounter. John Bunyan was one of her chief officers. For twelve years he was confined in a miserable dungeon, whose walls were ever dripping with damp, because he would not cease to recruit for the King's service. " But from that dim apart- ment he sent forth a book, whose original con- ception, grand and beautiful imagery, touching pathos, purity of style, and truthful to nature and experience, has given him an unrivalled fame." At present, among the noble seamen upon her deck, is a young officer by the name of Spurgeon. His eyes gleaming with the fire of his enkindled soul, his form expanding to its utmost height, and his lips moving with energy, he paces the deck, exclaiming, as he points to THE GOSPEL FLEET. 117 the formidable batteries of Anti-Christ, '* These strongholds must be taken. Quick ! Clear the deck ; make ready for action !" *' Comrades ! stand firmly by your guns, and never cease firing till you see that flag, dripping with the blood of the martyrs, hauled down." The com- mand, *' Blaze away," rings like a trumpet-blast from one end of the ship to the other. Flash follows flash in rapid succession, and the roar of the cannon booms across the sea. " How goes the battle, Landels ?" cries the young Oi cer. " I already see several breaches in the walls, sir," is the reply. *' Quit yourselves like men ; be strong and fear not, for the Lord of Hosts is with us, and the God of Jacob is our refuge." *' Let the Armstrongs of imperishable truth be brought to bear upon them, Burns." **.Aye ! aye ! sir." " What shouts are those I hear from the mast head ?" *' They are the shouts of victory, sir. The enemy has surren- dered." The mariners man the yards, and then ascend the high and joyful strains of the old Hebrew faith. " God is our refuge and our strength, In straits a present aid, Therefore, although the earth remove, We will not be afraid." % ii8 THE GOSPEL FLEET. Yonder, riding splendidly over the waves, is another vessel : she bears the name of ** Con- OREGATiONALiST." She has just come in from a cruise in the South Sea Islands, where John Williams, one of her bravest seamen, perished, a name that will live in the memory of men, when time has wiped out the names of the heroes- of military fame from the sculptured marble of Westminster, and the fretted ivory of St. Paul's. Her present position in the service is second to none ; and need we wonder, when «he numbers amongst her crew a phalanx of such glorious heroes as James Parsons, Thomas Binney, Newman Hall, and Henry Ward Beecher. Far to the Northward, where iceburgs glisten beneath the diadem of night, is another ship; she is called the '* Moravian." A more faithful crew is not to be found in the service, and a most glorious reward awaits these devoted ser- vants of the King. Coming into sight, under a heavy press of canvas, is the *' Methodist Monitor." Wes- ley, Coke, Ashbury, Bourne, Clowes, and other eminent worthies, by Divine direction, built this THE GOSPEL FLEET. 119 ship, and launched her into the world's deep sea of iniquity. She has sailed through storms and tempests, among rocks and quicksands for many years ; and has hitherto surmounted every diffi- culty. She is made of the very best material. All her timbers are branches from the tree of life. Her bolts, spikes, pins, and nails are pre- pared by Omnipotent power ; and she is planked with salvation down to her keel. Her masts are so high and stately, that they are like the tall cedars of Lebanon. Every stay, shroud, and rope is made of the silken cords of God's love. Hope is her anchor, faith her cable, the Holy Bible her compass, and Christ her pilot. Her sails are all set, and a breeze from heaven fills them ; and not a more gallant vessel is found among the heaven-bound fleet. She has on board millions of valiant sailors, and their Captain often gives them a glorious cheer while passing through the storms of life. He says, '^ Be ye faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life." The crew of this vessel are in earnest, and they are determined never to strike sail, or take in an inch of canvas, till the world is conquered. They have given chase and boarded many a pirate. 'i ''K 120 THE GOSPEL FLEET. I ( I I This ship carries heavy guns, has an excellent furnace for making " red-hot " shot ; and has large mortars for sending shells into the City of Destruction. With these weapons of spiritual warfare, she has stormed families, villages, towns, cities, kingdoms, islands, and continents. Her colours are nailed to the mast, to let the enemy see that she never means to surrender, until she has gained a complete conquest. Her sailors are brave in battle, calm in danger, and stand firmly by their guns. They have the greatest confi- dence in their Captain, and give Him praise- when they take a prize. ' ' Fill her sails, ye heavenly breezes, Swiftly waft the ship along : Hark ! the sailors are rejoicing, Glory bursts from every tongiie." Hoving in sight is another ship. She hails^ from Scotland, and bears the name of the '• Free Kirk," and was launched in 1843. At the helm stood the polished and classic Welsh, " his pure and glowing spirit shining through his fragile body, like a lamp through a vase of alabaster." At his right hand was the white- headed Chal- mers, with ** his massive frame and lion port,'' THE GOSPEL FLEET. 121 supported by nearly four hundred of Scotland's best ministers, and as many elders. As this vessel left the national docks and ecclesiastical emoluments, dismay and astonish- ment marked the countenances of the royal commissioners and adherents of the crown ; while a long-drawn, sobbing sigh, a suppressed cheer of admiration and sympathy swept from the thousands of spectators, who gazed with solemn wonder at the sight. Most of those brave men who stood true to principle in that stern hour of trial have gone to their reward. They now walk the golden strands of Canaan. "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat." Amongst the present crew of this Scottish vessel, like Saul among the elders of Israel, stands the venerable Guthrie. Grand old man ! His brow is furrowed with more than thirty years of active service. I can see him with form erect, near the figure-head, his eyes peer- ing through the haze that curtains the sea of life, watching for the lights upon the distant shore. May he watch there till the morning Cometh that knows no darkening. 122 THE GOSPEL FLEET. The^e ships are all provided with provisions- and instruments of navigation — *' A perfect and infallible chart, a chronometer that only needs care in winding, and a barometer that foretells all changes of weather. They have their log- books and the best spy-glasses ; and, besides all these, they have means, by the faithful use of which, though it needs no little skill and atten- tion, they can detect the direction and strength of unseen tides and under-currents. They are^. indeed, provided with everything likely to make the voyage, prosperous, sure, and successful. " *' There are ships," says the eloquent Mel- ville, *'that never will founder in life's battles,- or go down in life's tempest ; which will be in no peril when the last hurricane shall sweep^ earth and sea and sky ; and which, when the fury is overpast, and the light that knows na night breaks gloriously forth, shall be found on tranquil and crystal waters, resting beautifully on their shadows. These are they who have trusted in Jesus ; these are they who have been- anchored upon Christ." Oh, how different it will be with the careless- professor ! Though he may reach the shore 11 THE GOSPEL FLEET. 125 with his hfe, it will be at midnight, surrounded by roaring tempests, full of bitter remembrances and most tormenting fears ; yet, with tattered sails and broken ropes, peradventure he may gain the port, for " the Lord is good, and his mercy endureth for ever." But who shall describe the condition of the ungodly, driven out to sea in all their wicked- ness ; not even allowed a quarantine within sight of the heavenly Jerusalem, but obliged to drift about, dismantled and disabled, amid the darkness of eternal storms ! Oh ! to be forced from their moorings at midnight, when they cannot see a hand-breadth before them ; the thunders rolling ; the lightnings flashing ; strange voices of wrath mingling with every blast ; and the great bell of eternity tolling a funeral knell for the lost through all its dismal, solitary, and everlasting voyage ! Let us flee for refuge, to lay hold on the hope set before us, which hope is an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast, grasping the Rock of Ages, within the veil. ^ I ly > i; II- , :! Si 11 THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL RAND and imposing stood Vesuvius, under whose benignant shadow Pompeii had for centuries reposed. The inhabitants had gone to their nightly repose, and naught was heard but the measured tread of the Roman sentinel. There was no- thing in the aspect of affairs to create alarm. Men, women, and children lay down to dream that night as free from fear as on any previous night ; yet this was the very hour when ruin, with a swift and silent foot, was approaching their doors. Suddenly an unnatural gloom came down on the city, and a rumbling was heard, as if an earthquake was on the march. This was fol- lowed by a tremor of the earth, which aroused many from their slumbers. They had scarcely risen, when the volcano belched forth a stream 126 THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL. of lava, encircling its rugged crest with a wreath of fire, that lighted up the heavens with lurid splendour. Clouds of ashes filled the air, which made it difficult for the people to flee from the ruin that awaited them. The terror-stricken groups ran to and fro in wild confusion, seeking in vain for a place of refuge. The governor's daughter, refusing to leave the city, perished ; and eighteen hundred years afterwards her remains were found. Old Time had taken off her costly raiment, but her jewels were preserved, by which she might be distinguished from her attendants. The prison- ers incarcerated in the gaols had no means of escape. They struggled with fearful desperation to break their fetters, but those massive chains could not be snapped asunder by ordinary means. Through the grating of their cells they watched, in the agony of despair, the fiery streams, as they swept in terriffic sublimity down the mountain side, till death put an end to their misery. A few years ago they were found with the chains still wrapped round their skeleton limbs. The groaning of the mountain became more and more terrific. Strong men, as they ran ■VI THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL. 127 :along the streets, were dashed to the earth by the fiery embers, which were hurled by volcanic force for miles. Mothers sought in vain for their children, and children staggered out of their homes to die on the pavement. The aged, the sick, and the dying made no effort to escape, but resigned themselves, as best they could to their fate. The temple was crowded with people, who frantically implored help from their deities ; but the gods were powerless : both they and their worshippers perished. *' The Roman centurion still kept watch at the gate which looked towards the burning moun- tain. Amidst the confusion, the guard had forgotten to relieve him. There he stood, defiant ■of the storm that swept around him ; for be it known, that Rome taught her sentinels to hold their post till set at liberty by the guard ; there- fore he had to choose between death and dis- honor. Thick and fast the ashes fell around the sturdy Roman, whose polished helmet red- wdened in the flash of the fiery mountain. Higher and higher the ashes rose, till they choked his breathing. After the lapse of seven- teen centuries, they found his skeleton standing NMH 128 THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL. erect in a marble niche, clad in rusty armour^ the helmet on his empty skull, and his bony fingers closing on his spear." He was faithful unto death. I would that every Christian soldier were as true to God and his cause, as the Roman was to Caesar. Like ancient Rome, the Church has ever had her heroes. What a " coronet of stalwart storm-defiers " graced the summit of God's Zion in^the Reformation days. Wickliffe, the Elijah of modern times ; Luther, the monk that shook the world ; Zwingle, of Switzerland ; John Knox, whose thrilling appeals made the diadem quiver on the brow of Mary, Queen of Scots ; burly Latimer, who marched singing to Smithfield; John Bunyan, the immortal dreamer^ whose matchless allegory has been the guiding star of thousands thronging the dusty paths of life ; George Whitfield, who moved the masses as the forest is moved by the wind ; John Wes- ley, who toiled as only few men toil in the vine- yard of the Lord. These men were *' storm-proof, gold-proof^ and temptation-proof." While the unfaithful sentinels slumbered, the footfalls of these faith- THE FAITHFUL SENTINEL. 129 ful watchmen were heard, as they marched round the walls of Zion. Yes, with their hands upon the hilts of their polished and two-edged swords, they bade defiance to the enemies of the cross; and when the grim guard of death came to relieve them, like the Roman of old, they were found watching. So watch ye, for in such an hour as ye think not, the guard may come to relieve you. wmammtmmm THE HAVEN OF PEACE. " Hurrah ! the harbor's near, lo ! the red lights ; Slacken not sail yet, at inlet or island ; Straight for the beacon steer, straight for the highland ; Crowd all the canvass on, cut through the foam, Christian, cast anchor now, heaven's thy home." HAT emotions thrill the heart of the mariner when he hears from the mast- head the shout "land ahead !" Now the gallant bark draws near, expressive looks are exchanged; she runs into port, drops her anchor, and the mariners leap ashore, greeted by a thousand welcomes. Such, in a higher sense, will be the joy experienced by the Christian, as he enters the harbor of glory. What scenes of grandeur shall the Christian behold as he draws near the bright and beautiful shore of the Better Land. No mortal eye ever gazed on such transcendent loviiness. All 132 THE HAVEN OF PEACE. around the land blushes with entrancing beauty, and on either side of the harbor stand mansions of inconceivable splendor, and elysian bowers, which angel-fingers formed, ' ' Ere the fresh stars began their race of glory, And young Time told his first birthday by the sun." The celestial city is full in view. ** Gold paves its streets ; around its secure and blissful homes rise jasper walls ; earth holds no such city, the depths of ocean no such pearls as form its gates. Winter never strips its trees, day never dies into night, but crowns of glory flash and blaze on the heads of its sinless and white-robed multitudes." ** These are they which came out of great tribu- lation, and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Some of them had to pass through tribula- tions of a personal and domestic character. One of them had a large family and a splendid fortune ; but the same black day saw that fortune fly away, ?nd the grave close upon seven sons and daughters. Another was a king, and his heir apparent was his pride and joy, a youth whose beauty was a proverb through all the realm; so noble, so handsome, that his glance was THE HAVEN OF PEACE. 133 fascination, and the people followed his chariot with delirious plaudits; but while the doting father with swelling emotion eyed his gallant successor, the selfish youth grasped at his father's crown, and the old monarch fled with a bursting heart, to return with a broken one, for his mis- guided son was slain. One of them filled a digni- fied office in a heathen land ; but fidelity to his God brought him into jeopardy, till reft of his title and torn from his mansion, he was flung food for lions, into the howling den. Another was an evangelist, who delighted to go from city to city, proclaiming the Saviour whom he dearly loved, till the hand of tyranny bore him away to an ocean rock, and left him to chant the name of Jesus amidst the wild music of the winds and waves. Among the shining ones " is the spirit of a heroic Christian, who was dragged from one of the jungles of India, pale with loss of blood, and wasted to a shadov; with famine and hardship. Far away from father and mother or any earthly friend, and surrounded by a cloud o^ ■ lack incar- nate fiends 01 Fepoys, he saw a Mahommedan who had been converted to the Christian faith, 134 THE HAVEN OF PEACE. appalled at the preparations these demons were making for his torture, and about to renounce his faith. Fast dying, and almost beyond the vengence of his enemies, this good lad, having a moment longer to live, and willing to spend his last breath for Jesus, he raised himself up, and casting an imploring look at the wavering convert, cried, " Oh ! do not deny your Lord." Inspired with holy courage, the Hindoo yielded not, but was willing, if need be, to pass through the fires of martj^rdom to heaven. He has long since heard the victorious shout — the conquering hallelujah, burst from heaven's full -peopled depth. ' ' We come ! for hark ! we hear the seraph lay ; V/e come thy Son to kiss, His grace to pay ; No more we roam. We give ourselves to God, to earth our clay ; Herald of bliss ! we come with Thee away ; Lead, lead us home." Yes, guide us, Father, to that harbor that knows no agitation — unruffled, smooth, and pellucid ; where there shall arise no shades of darkness, no tempests to discompose ; for in those days of our eternal youth, the clouds re- turn not aftsr the former rain. There no sighs THE HAVEN OF PEACE. 135 are heard, no tears are shed ; but the tossed and the wearied enjoy eternal quietude. The death-chill's past, the struggle's o'er; they have reached the radiant shore, where angels stand all diademed, and harp in hand, to hail the storm-tossed mariner to the land of perfect bliss. Hark ! how the welcome plaudit rolls in strains seraphic from the shining minstrelsy, as the feet of ransomed spirits touch the golden strands of Canaan. This Harbor knows no change. Its pleasures are perpetual. ** Destruction is the law of the present system. The race of earthly glory is soon run ; riches flee away ; youth is a dewdrop which the rising sun soon exhales ; thrones and sceptres are but the tottering emblems of power; empires and states pass away," but the happiness of the glorified is eternal. Immortality is written on the gates and walls of the Celestial City. It flashes in jewelled iustre from the wreath that encircles the brow of til? cherubim. It glows and burns in the splendor of the sapphire throne. It rises in the mansions and the temples where the redeemed dwell, worship, and adore. 136 THE HAVEN OF PEACE. In this Harbour there will he no more dangers. No more hazards, likened to perils on the sea. Many a noble ship has foundered at the entrance of the harbour, when all danger was esteemed as past. They strike, and while they triumph they expire. But once these conflicts survived, and the latest billow past, all fear may be given to the wind. ** Oh ! tr )'i tossed with tempest and not yet comforted ; 1 who art driven by adverse winds from thy course, and disappointed in thy hope, when it was fondly thought thy troubles were all over ; wait a little, and thou shalt escape the blast of the tempest, and enter the harbour where there shall be no more privations and trials — no more nights of weary watching and deep agony — no more startling intelligence of the loss of those we love." In this Harbour there will be no more separa- tions from our friends. It was on the sea-shore that Paul knelt down and prayed, and wept at leaving those whom strong affection and a kindred faith had so mutually endeared. Though we may never have parted with friends in like THE HAVEN OF PEACE. 137 circumstances, yet we have experienced many sad partings, the Hke of which we pray our eyes may never witness, and our hearts never again feel. *' Since the beginning of the world what vast multitudes have been deposited in the seaman's churchyard. Though no tolling bell has called together sympathising friends ; though no green sod has opened to receive them, and no quiet grave invited them to rest beneath its shadows ; yet they have had their funeral services ; the the winds have sung their requiem, the waves have furnished a winding sheet, coral monu- ments mark their resting-places, generation after generation has sunk in the dark waterPy and now wait the summons of the last trumpet- peal. Multitudes will follow them, and go down to sleep beside them — yes, but there is a home far above ocean tempests, a home where the death-chill from cold waters will never be ex- perienced. 'And I saw them that had gotten the victory over the beast, and over his image, and over his mark, and over the number of his name, stand on the sea of glass, having the harps of God, and they sang the song of Moses and the Lamb.' " 138 xHE HAVEN OF PEACE. The tides of time sweep us out to open sea. We may not cross each other's path, as we stand off and on ; we may or may not come within hail ; but shall we not come at last to anchor in the harbour ? The harbour ! I seem to see it sometimes, when the night wind is high, and hurrying clouds scud wildly across the heavens, or sullen clouds hang dense and drear, and there is no light of the sun, or the moon, or of any star. Then from its light-house streams the clear signal-light, and we know we near it pci^ely. I see it again, when, as in the glory of our rich autumn, the sun sweeps westerly in mantle of crimson and gold. It is no storm-scene now ; it was stormy, but the tempest passed with a rainbow hanging upon its sable skirts, and now the ships are coming in, not battered with rent canvas and broken cordage, but with sails full- bent- and the cross-blazoned colors flying, with decks crowded with happy voyagers, who shout the voyage ended ! See ! they look landward ; they are watching for familiar faces among those who crowd the wharves. Do they not see them ? Who are they that shout glad welcomes from THE HAVEN OF PEACE. 139 the ever-green shore ? Are those strangers that wear pahii and laurel ? Are those eyes of tender flame such as we have looked upon never? Oh ! land of the pure and the holy ; country where graves are never made \ Oh, mountains of beatitude ! Oh, city which hath foundation ! Oh, throne of God and the Lamb, bright with excessive light ! There, there, after the battle, after the mortal affliction, after the sore conflict with the King of Terrors ; there, where near the Redeemer, gather the rapt foreflyers from our homes and altars ; there, at the portals of our Father's house, we name our trysting place, and there appoint our g eeting. Until then, hail and farewell ! *' We're afloat, we're afloat for the haven of rest, We're afloat, in full sail, for our home in the skies ; For the home of the weary, the home of the blest, The mansions of peace, and the kingdom of joys ! Who's afraid, when our Christ, and our God, and His Spirit, Assure us Their kingdom we now shall inherit ? Let us go. ^ Death's below — l^ife's above ! Let us go." " The unspeakable blessedness of our holy religion in life's closing scene is most strikingly illustrated in an interesting narrative of a con- verted British sailor, by Lieutenant Rhind, R.N. . i 140 THE HAVEN OF PEACE. The subject of this sketch, Andrew Millar, when dying, was visited by a pious friend, who said to him, *It is a blessed thing to make a good landfall when the voyage of life is drawing to- wards its close, Andrew.' " The fading eye of the dying one brightened^ and his pale and wasted features became ani- mated, as he gave expression to his glorious hope and unshaken faith in Christ; 'Oh, it is! it is ! and I may truly say I have had the land aboard ever since I was laid up here. It's the looming of the hills of glory that cheers my soul; and it matters not how rough the voyage has been, since I have got into a good roadstead, and the port is right under my lee.' "To his pastor he said, 'I have but another anchor to heave, and then I am off with a flow- ing sheet to the land of endless bliss.' " On another occasion he said, with a smile, 'I am close hauled, but I hold a good wind. The pirates hove in sight this morning, but I spied the black-flag and marrow-bone. One of them ranged alongside ; but I poured a broad- side into him, and he sheered ofl" again. ' You THE HAVEN OF PEACE. 141 are a horrible sinner,' said he ; but I stopped his his mouth quickly. ' I know that,' said I. ' I the chief of s'^ners am ; But Jesus died for me." ' Oh, sir, what should I do with these fellows if it were not for the witness of the spirit? Sometimes I have them on all sides, like a swarm of bees, and then I run up my red ensign to the main, and they are off like smoke.' " As the last storm darkened and lowered around, he said, " I have had a heavy strain or two, but my ground-tackling is good ; and when the breeze freshened, I began to pay away more of my cable, and with the long service I rode easy enough till slack tide, and I hove short, and got under weigh again, and now I am once more in deep water.' " With his dying breath he whispered to his friend — for the power of articulation was now failing ; his voice was broken and low — *' I mean to cross the bar, all standing, stud- ding sails, royals, and sky-sails, and fire a royal salute as I run in ; my last breath on earth, and my first in glory shall praise Him. I can only think of one thing now. Oh ! the greatness of 142 THE HAVEN OF PEACE. His love. I am persuaded there is nothing greater, or more surprising in heaven. There is nothing will ever astonish me more than that He should bring such a sinner as me to see Him as He is. You will be praising Him still in our blessed little Zion, and some may think that my lips are silent in the dust ; but your Andrew will be praising him louder than you all.' " Christian, cheer up, the day breaks o'er thee, Bright as the summer's noon-tide ray ; The star-gemm'd crowns, and realms of glory, Invite thy happy soul away.