#^ ol tUt f hwlojjta/ ^ e to PRINCETON, N. J. %< % PRESENTED BY THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION ^% 1\L Nearing Home. COMFORTS AND COUNSELS FOR THE AGED. WILLIAM E. SCHENCK, D.D. PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 1334 CHESTNUT STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by THE TRUSTEES OF THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. estoott & Thomson, Btereotypers, Philada. CONTENTS. PREFACE 9 WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN? Caroline, Baroness of Nairn. 11 THE REVIEW OF LIFE Anonymous. 13 THE OLD FOLKS Anonymous. U NIGHTFALL Margaret Junkin. 36 FATHER, I KNOW Miss A. L. Waring. S3 OUR ONE LIFE.... Horatius Bonar, D.D. 41 RETROSPECT Martin F. Tupper. i?> REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE Archibald Alexander, D.D. 45 CHRISTIAN GRACES FOR THE AGED Anonymous. 5-3 BRIDGES A. D. F. Randolph. 55 A LITTLE WHILE Greville. 53 THE FRUITLESS TREE John M. Lowrie, D.D. CO AFTERNOON .M.aigaret Junkin. 62 OLD AGE ANTICIPATED Rev. Reuben Smith. 64 LOVING-KINDNESS Rev. Samuel Medley. 70 A FEW MOBE DAYS Horatius Panar, D.D. 73 ABIDE WITH ME Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. SO GOD IS MY LIGHT TIencstenrerg. S2 THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT Rev. Robert F. Sample. S4 3 4 CONTENTS. PAG* SYMPATHY AXD SELFISHNESS Anonymous. 87 THY SAVIOUR'S PRAYER Anonymous. 94 THE AGED CHRISTIAN . Anonymous. 96 THE VOICE FROM GALILEE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 99 THE FATHER-LAND From the German of Claus Harms. 101 THE PALM James Hamilton, D.D. 103 GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY James W. Alexander, D.D. 107 A NAME IN THE SAND Hannah F. Gould. 109 STILL WILL WE TRUST William H. Burleigh. Ill A PROSPECT OF HEAVEN Isaac Watts, D.D. 113 3ELS TO THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 115 NEARER TO THEE Miss Sarah F. Adams. 125 MY REST IS IN HEAVEN Anonymous. 127 THE CROWN OF MY HOPE William Cowper. 129 HOME IN VIEW Rev. John Newton. 131 EVENING TIME James Montgomery. 133 \XD TO WIFE John M. Lowrie, D.D. 134 To AX AGED UNBELIEVER William S. Plumer, D.D. 142 NOTHING BUT LEAVES Anonymous. 151 GOD, OUR HELP Isaac Watts, D.D. 153 I KXOW THAT I MUST DIE From the German op B. Schmolke. 155 AS CHRIST CHOOSES Riciiard Baxter. 157 THE BLESSED HOPE Rev. Augustus M. Toplady. 159 EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE John Gosman, D.D. 162 HEAVEN Anonymous. 166 LIGHT AT EVENTIDE Anonymous. 168 Martin F. Tupper. 170 CONTENTS. 5 PAGB ALL IS WELL Anonymous. 172 TO THE UTTERMOST Rev. Gardiner Spring Plumlby. 174 A LITTLE WHILE.... Horatius Bonar, D.D. 181 PECULIAR DUTIES OP THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 183 I SHALL SOON BE DYING. .....Anonymous. 192 THE LOSS OF MEMORY Anonymous. 194 PRAYER OF AN AGED BELIEVER Sir Robert Grant. 201 . HEAVENLY REALITIES From the German of J. Lange. 203 SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE Rev. John Kennedy. 206 CHRISTIAN'S VIEW OF ETERNITY From German of C. C. Sturm. 215 DIM EVE DRAWS ON Anonymous. 217 THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE Anonymous. 21S JOYS TO COME....; From the German of H. C. Von Schweinitz. 229 THE PROMISED STRENGTH Anonymous. 231 TARRY WITH ME Anonymous. 245 OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS Mrs. Adeline T. Davidson. 247 THE HOPE OF THE DISCONSOLATE Sir Robert Grant. 252 NEARER HOME Alice Cary. 254 BEYOND THE SUNSET Rev. Robert F. Sample. 256 THE UNCHANGING FRIEND Anonymous. 253 THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS Paul Gephardt. 273 THE FRIEND UNSEEN Charlotte Elliot. 276 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE James W. Alexander, D.D. 278 SOJOURNING AS AT AN INN A. D. F. Randolph. 285 TO AN OLD DISCIPLE William S. Plumer, D.D. 288 ONLY WAITING Anonymous. 302 FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS James Montgomery. 304 6 CONTENTS. FAQS WORDS IN SEASON Anonymous. 306 THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE From the German. 327 THE VERGE OF LIFE Philip Doddridge, D.D. 330 YONDER, Horatius Bonar, D.D. 332 TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL , Anonymous. 334 OLD AGE John Walton. 350 FULLY RIPE Anonymous. 351 THE HOUR OF DEPARTURE Rev. John Logan. 353 HOW TO DIE SAFELY Archibald Alexander, D.D. 355 OUR BELOVED HAVE DEPARTED From the German of J. Lange. 364 CONFIDENCE IN GOD Paul Gephardt. 366 THE BANKS OF THE RIVER Anonymous. 369 HEAVENWARD From the German op B. Schmolke. 3S7 WHEN WILT THOU DIE? Anonymous. 3S9 THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH Rev. William Romaine. 392 A LITTLE WAY Miss Josephine Pollard. 405 PORT IN DEATH From the German op N. Hermann. 407 THE HEAVENLY REST Anonymous. 409 AGED BELIEVER AT THE GATE OF HEAVEN....Thos. Guthrie, D.D. 42f A BETTER COUNTRY Rev. John Newton. 427 GRANDMA IS DEAD A. D. F. Randolph. 428 LONGING AFTER HEAVEN De Fleury. 432 CROSSING THE RIVER Rev. Robert F. Sample. 434 HEAVEN Horatius Bonar, D.D. 437 HERE AND THERE Anonymous. 439 THAT LAND From the German op Uhland. 441 PRAYER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD. ..A. Alexander, D.D. 443 CONTENTS. 7 PAGB GOD OF MY YOUTH Isaac Watts, D.D. 450 I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY William A. Muhlenberg, D.D. 452 THE LORD'S MY SHEPHERD Rouse. 454 THE PILGRIM'S SONG Anonymous. 455 WORN AND WEARY S. Roberts. 457 AS THY DAYS Lydia H. Sigourney. 459 THE HEAVENLY REST William B. Tappan. 460 THY WILL BE DONE Charlotte Elliot. 461 OUR HOME Anonymous. 463 PREFACE In this day, when so much labour is expended in producing almost innumerable books for the young, there is clanger of our neglecting the aged ones who are about to pass off the stage of life. Yet there is a host of men and women in the decline of life who will be glad to receive a few words of instruction, of sympathy and of kindly cheer. For such this book has been prepared. May God bless it and make it a blessing to all such readers ! It will be seen that the materials for the volume have been gathered from a great variety of sources. Special acknowledgment is due to a volume entitled "Life's Evening Hour," published by the Religious Tract Society of London, from which several of the excellent anonymous pieces have been taken. W. E. S. Nearing Home Jpfoulfr $mx be fWng ^gain ? * CAROLINE, BARONESS OF NAIRN. Would you be young again ? So would not I ; — One tear to memory given, Onward I'll hie ; — Life's dark wave forded o'er, All but at rest on shore, Say, would you plunge once more, With home so nigh ? If you might, would you now Retrace your way ? Wander through stormy wilds. Faint and astray ? Night's gloomy watches fled, Morning all beaming red, Hope's smiles around us shed, Heavenward, away ! * Written in the author's seventy-sixth year. u 12 NEARING BOME. Where are those dear ones, Our joy and delight, Dear and more dear, though now Hidden from sight ? Where they rejoice to be, There is the home for me ; Fly, time, fly speedily ; Come, light and life ! fyt |ttbteto of fifie. ANONYMOUS. The busy day of life is over. Its pleasures, its duties, and its anxieties have passed away. The sunshine and the shade, which alternately marked its path, have alike disappeared ; and the soft tints of evening are gathered over the sky. The evening of life ! Yes : life has its sunset hour, its twilight season. The dim eye, the silvered lock, and the feeble step indicate that the closing period of earthly existence has arrived. How rapid has been the flight of time ! How near must be the approach of eternity ! The gradual decline of health and strength is a kind and merciful preparative for the solemn change which awaits us. It seems to lessen the reluctance which our nature feels to give up life ; to wean us from the varied attractions of earth ; to soften the abrupt transition from the present to a future state of being. It accustoms us to the consideration of death : it assists us in the realization of immortality. The evening of life ! Evening is the time for rest. 13 14 NEARING HOME. The little bird seeks its leafy roost ; the rosy child throws aside its playthings and falls asleep ; the weary labourer comes home from his work. The cares of the day are forgotten ; and all is hushed and quiet. And life's closing hours, Christian reader, should be distinguished by serenity and repose. You must not harass and perplex yourself now with occupations which were once both appropriate and necessary, nor repine because you are unable to exert yourself as in former days. Your strength is to sit still. Old age is the resting-place in the journey of life ; and the feverish heat of noontide is exchanged for the refreshing coolness of twilight. An impatient, restless, grasping, or dissatisfied spirit is not consistent with the character of an aged pilgrim. Habitual quietude and self-possession should mark his demeanour. Neither the excite- ments of the world, nor the agitations of the pro- fessing church, should ruffle your equanimity ; for you are too experienced a traveller in this vale of tears to be discomposed by the distractions around you, or to doubt the wisdom and faithfulness of Him who makes all things work together l'or good. Your rest in Christ, your trust in him as your Saviour, should be more perfect, more unwavering than in earlier years. "I know whom I have be- THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 15 lieved, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day,"* should be the assured expression of your con- fidence in him. Firmly placed on the Rock of ages, and fully conscious of the security of your position, your closing life should be a realization of that promise in which Grocl has engaged to keep in " per- fect peace" those whose minds are stayed on him.f The cheerful, all-sustaining faith of an aged Chris- tian is one of the best testimonies to the worth and reality of religion, and furnishes a bright and en- couraging example to the lambs of the flock. Weary and distressed by the arduous conflict in which he is engaged, the youthful Christian is frequently too ready to conclude with the desponding patriarch, "All these things are against me;"J or to exclaim with the sorrowful Psalmist, "I shall perish one day."§ At such seasons in his experience his faith is strengthened and his hope is revived as he be- holds the tranquillity and peace of some advanced believer, who has safely passed through similar trials and successfully surmounted similar tempta- tions to his own, and who is now enjoying a foretaste of that rest which remaineth to the people of God. * 2 Tim. i. 12. t Isa. xxvi. 3. % Gen. xlii.36. \ 1 Sam. xxvii. 1. 16 HEARING HOME. Such repose is to him a pledge of his own partial deliverance from toil and conflict ; and the contem- plation of it enables him to gird up the loins of his mind, and to run with patience the race set before him. Then let those around you, Christian reader, see that your hope is like an anchor sure and steadfast ; that you are now confidently resting upon those principles which have hitherto sustained and guided you.. Let no doubt shadow your peace; no anxiety ruffle your composure. You have struggled long with trial and temptation ; you have tested in your own experience the truth of God's promises; you have done his work among your fellow-men ; and now you must calmly wait until your Father's loving voice bids you welcome home. The evening of life ! Evening is the time for re- flection. Amidst the busy and exciting occupations of the day there is seldom much opportunity for serious consideration. Well-disciplined minds, it is true, can control their thoughts, and gather them around high and holy subjects, even in those mo- ments which are necessarily devoted to worldly busi- ness; but most persons are so harassed and engrossed by the constant claims upon their time and attention is scarcely to be able to cast a hurried glance on THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 17 things which are unseen and remote ; and they feel how welcome and how desirable is the evening hour for quiet meditation, for self-examination, and for the formation of wise and good purposes. Now, reader, your eventide of life should be con- secrated to calm and elevated thought. Through the long period which is passed you have not per- haps redeemed much time for hallowed considera- tion. Martha-like, you may have been cumbered with much serving; or, Israel-like,, you may have forgotten the Lord your God. But whatever has been your j)revious history, you are now, by the infirmities of age, withdrawn from active duties, that you may muse upon coming realities. How thankful should you feel that there is yet a brief space allotted you for pious thought and preparation, before you go hence and be no more seen ! In the peaceful twilight hour, when we sit alone and commune with our own hearts, our thoughts naturally turn to the occurrences of the past day. Little incidents, too trifling perhaps to speak about, are reviewed and dwelt upon ; virtuous actions which have been performed win the approval of conscience, and wanderings from duty call forth feelings of regret ; pleasing events and painful trials have each a share in our pensive musings ; varied indeed are 18 NEARIXG HOME. the scenes which one clay's panorama brings before our view. And then we generally glance at the future. We arrange our plans for the coming day ; we look forward with glad expectance to the joys which are in store for us ; or we shrink in fear and despondency from the troubles which seem associated with the morrow ; and will not your thoughts, aged reader, thus chiefly divide themselves into retrospec- tion and anticipation ? Retrospection! "Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness."* Old age is the most appropriate season for this consideration of the past. The judg- ment is not so likely to be warped by the heat of excitement, nor the feelings to be swayed by the influence of passion, as in youthful clays. The veteran, as he recalls the battle-field, can mark events and form opinions far more advantageously than the soldier who is engaged in the midst of an action. Contemplate, then, your whole life from the dawn of infancy to its present decline; trace out the many windings of your pathway through the world; survey each minute feature of your changeful history. But is it pleasant to look back? Are there not * Deut. viii. 2. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 19 many places in our pilgrimage where memory dis- likes to linger? are there not many facts in life's early records which we feel happier in forgetting? True, the remembrance of our imperfections and our sins is painful and self-condemning ; yet it is always best to open one's eyes to the truth. Enter, then, into a full and faithful examination of your past history. Scrutinize your motives by the tests with which God's word furnishes you ; and try your con- duct by his holy law. Let neither pride nor preju- dice hide the real state of things from your view. How important is it that, on the confines of eternity, you should be kept from self-decej)tion ! Ask God himself to be your teacher. Make this your prayer : "Search me, God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts : and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way ever- lasting."* What, then, is the result of your investigation? What verdict does conscience, enlightened from above, give concerning the past ? It may be, nay, it must be, that you find enough in your recollections to overwhelm you with sorrow and confusion. So much selfishness and worldliness have mingled with your brightest deeds; so much unfaithfulness has * Psa. cxxxix. 23. 20 NEARINO HOME. been connected with your professed allegiance to Christ; so much impurity of heart and defilement of life are discovered by your rigid self-inspection, that you are ready to exclaim with the Psalmist, '•Enter not into judgment with thy servant, Lord: for in thy sight shall no man living be justified."* Or perhaps your reflections on the past have con- vinced you that you have hitherto been living with- out God and without Christ in the world ; that you have JDeen so absorbed with the trifles of earth as to have forgotten the attractions of heaven ; that, although a responsible being, and liable to be sum- moned at any moment to your final account, you have gone carelessly on in the ways of sin, and have disobeyed the commands of the Most High. The retrospect in either case is humbling. Yet it leads to hope, and peace, and salvation. Both to the troubled Christian and the penitent sinner the cheering annunciation of the gospel is, " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin."f "Be- lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. "J Then, "though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."§ " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I * Psa. cxliii. 2. t 1 John i. 7. X Acts xvi. 31. I Isa. i. 18. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 21 will give you rest."* Full and free forgiveness is offered to all who seek it at his cross. Cast yourself with all your sins, however great their number or aggravated their guilt, at the Saviour's feet, saying, "Lord, save me: I perish!" and his gracious re- sponse will be, " Thy sins are forgiven ; — go in peace, "f Let the sorrowful and self-abasing remembrance of your iniquity make Christ in your estimation increasingly precious. Your sin is the dark back- ground which throws his love and his atonement into strong relief. Without his sacrifice and intercession, how dark would be life's evening ! Not one star of hope would illumine the sky ; not one ray of glad- ness would beam on your spirit. But now the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ casts a lovely and softened radiance on all around you and before you. Oh, as you be- hold by faith the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world, as you thankfully recognize in him your gracious Mediator and ever-prevalent Intercessor, can you not exclaim with the aged and rejoicing Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- vant depart in peace : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ?"J * Matt. xi. 28. f Matt. viii. 25 ; Luke vii. 48-50. % Luke ii. 29. 22 NEARINQ HOME. But the consideration of the past should not only awaken penitence, it should excite gratitude. You have been wonderfully preserved from many dan- gers ; you have been safely guided through many difficulties ; you have been continually enriched with numberless blessings. Surely goodness and mercy have followed you all the days of your life. Recall some of the multiplied proofs which you have had of God's tender, parental care over you. It would be impossible to recount every instance of his good- ness towards you, for memory, always imperfect, is now sadly impaired; but "forget not all his benefits." Each comfort which you have enjoyed through life came from his beneficent hand; each impulse to good and each resistance to evil which you have felt was through the importation of his grace. Can you not heartily acknowledge the truthfulness of that ( harge which the dying servant of the Lord pressed homo upon the Israelites around him? — " Ye know that not one thing hath failed of all the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you ; all are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath failed thereof."* Oh yes! every aged believer will testify to the faithfulness of God in the fulfilment of his promises. You can look back to several points in * Joshua xxiii. 14. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 23 your history, where, but for the interposition of God's providence, or the aid of his Spirit, you must have been overwhelmed by temptation and sorrow. Many have been the occasions when you have had to set up your stone of remembrance, and to confess that hitherto the Lord hath helped you. Even as to your trials, you can see now, with regard to some of them at least, that they were "blessings in disguise;" and you are sure that they were all sent for some wise and loving purpose. With what grateful emo- tions, then, should your recollections of by-gone days be accompanied ! And should not gratitude for past mercies be com- bined with hope for future favours and deliverances ? " He thanked God, and took courage."* When you think of the increased weakness and perhaps suffer- ing which you have yet to bear ; of the inevitable separation between yourself and those whom you love which will soon take place; of the valley of the shadow of death through which you must pass, and of the solemn moment when your spirit shall depart from this world, — natural feeling shrinks from the scene before you. " Cast me not off in the time of old age," is the language of your heart; "forsake me not when my strength faileth."f Hearken to * Acts xxviii. 15. t Psa. lxxi. 9. 24 REARING HOME. the immediate reply of the God of your salvation : " I will never leave thee nor forsake ihee."* " Fear thou not ; for I am with thee : be not dismayed ; for I am thy God : I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. "f Ah ! you can read these assurances in the page, not of inspiration only, but of experience. You can infer with certainty, from God's conduct in past days, what its complexion will .be in future moments. He is the same yester- day, to-day, and for ever ; and therefore in the loving-kindness which he has hitherto manifested towards you, you have the surest pledge of the con- tinual exercise of his power and goodness. He hath delivered ; he doth deliver ; in whom you trust that he will yet deliver. " The God who hath fed you all your life long " is your God for ever and ever ; and he will be your guide even unto death. Anticipation! Looking back should be combined with looking forward. The weary pilgrim, who re- calls with mingled sorrow and gladness the events which have occurred during his journey, will also think of the rest and the welcome which wait for him in his happy home. The Christian traveller, as evening is closing in around him, and the objects * Heb. xiii. 5. t Isa. xli. 10. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. • 25 of earth are fading from his gaze, loves to let his imagination dwell upon the many mansions in his Father's house, where a place is being prepared for him. "A little while, and every fear, That o'er the perfect day Flings shadows dark and drear, Shall fade like mist away ; The secret tear, the anxious sigh, Shall pass into a smile ; Time changes to eternity — We only wait a little while." The morning of joy is close at hand; the things which are not seen and eternal are every moment drawing nearer to you; the promised inheritance, incorruptible, undefilecl, and never-fading, will soon be actually yours. Meditate on the glory which shall presently be revealed. Consider how perfect in its nature, and how perpetual in its duration, is the happiness which God has provided for you in his everlasting kingdom. An eminent minister, who was spending an afternoon with some Christian friends, was observed to be unusually silent. On being aroused from his reverie by a question which was addressed to him, he. said that he had been absorbed in the contemplation of eternal happiness. "Oh, my friends!" he exclaimed, with an energy 26 NEAEING HOME. which arrested the attention of all present, "thin* what it is to be for ever with the Lord ; for ever, for ever, for ever I" But is the prospect of heaven thus attractive to you ? Have you any true sympathy with its joys, any congeniality of spirit with its bright inhab- itants ? You of course hope, when you die, to go to heaven ; the most thoughtless and worldly-minded characters hope that, not because they aspire after more, intimate communion with God and closer con- formity to his image, but because they associate the idea of happiness with heaven ; and it is the in- stinctive desire of their nature to wish to be happy. But unless we are made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light, the enjoyments of heaven, were we allowed to be there, would be positively distaste- ful to us. The unjust and the unholy would be unjust and unholy still, and in a world of perfect truth and purity would find no source of satisfaction. A clergyman was conversing with an intelligent woman in his parish, who was ill and dying. After he had ceased talking to her, she said with an ex- pression of much distaste, " If heaven be such a place as you describe, I have no wish to go there." Such an avowal may seem unnatural, but it would be the confession of every un sanctified heart, if men THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 27 seriously considered the character of celestial happi- ness. The songs of the redeemed cannot change the heart, nor the glory of the heavenly city transform the spirit. What fellowship can light have with darkness ? Aged reader, rest not satisfied with anything short of a true preparation for everlasting bliss. It is easy to bear the name of Christian. But without " holi- ness" no man shall see the Lord.* " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of Grod."f How shall you attain this preparation ? By sim- ple faith in Christ, by the grace of the Holy Spirit. External acts of devotion, alms-giving, self-denial, or large charitable bequests, cannot purchase your passport for . heaven. The righteousness of God, which is unto all and upon all them that believe, and the sanctification of the heart which is effected by the power of the Holy Spirit, must be yours be- fore you can enter into everlasting glory. And they may be yours — yours now. Put your trust in that Saviour who has declared he will in no wise cast out those who come to him ; and seek for the gift of that Holy Spirit which is promised to all who earnestly and perseveringly ask for it; and you shall have everlasting life. * Heb. xii. 14. t John iii. 3. 28 NEAEING HOME. But it is possible that some humble-minded and timid Christian hesitates, from a fear of being pre- sumptuous and self-deceived, to appropriate those joys which are at God's right hand. Gladly would you anticipate the moment of your departure hence, could you be sure that an abundant entrance would be ministered unto you into Christ's kingdom. But although you cling to the Saviour as your only hope of salvation, and are anxiously striving to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit, you cannot rise to that happy confidence which many Christians feel in the prospect of eternity. You cannot echo their peace- ful and unwavering declaration, " We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."* You are like the pilgrims on the Delectable Mountains, whose hands shook so that they could not look steadily through the perspective-glass at the gate of the celestial city. Yet, fear not ! it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom; the promised possession is secured to you, although you are unable to realize your interest in it. It is both your privilege and your duty to seek earnestly the "assurance of hope;" * 2 Cor. v. 1. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 29 but remember, for your consolation and encourage- ment, that the weakest believer in Christ is as safe as the most rejoicing Christian. Keep your eye fixed upon your Saviour; strive to follow in his steps ; use with constancy and diligence the means of grace which he has provided; and you shall eventually attain to that perfect peace which casteth out fear. "At evening time it shall be light.' 7 * Happy are those whose hope is clear, whose faith is strong, and who, in the consciousness that the time of their departure is at hand, can look to the past and to the future, and meekly but confidently affirm with " Paul the aged," " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness. "f Joyful assurance! Bright antici- pation ! Well may such aged believers have an ardent desire to depart, and to be with Christ ; well may they long for that rapidly approaching hour when he shall present them faultless before the presence of their God with exceeding joy. The evening of life! Evening is the time for prayer. Then the lisping babe folds its little hands and utters its simple words of supplication and thanksgiving ; then the pious family assemble round * Zech. xiv. 7. t 2 Tim. iv. 6. 30 NEABING HOME. the domestic altar; then the thoughtful Christian retires into his closet, shuts his door, and prays to his Father who seeth in secret. The comparative quietude which exists in the world around him, and the repose which spreads itself over the face of nature, seem to soothe the spirit of the wearied be- liever, and to invite him to calm and hallowed inter- course with his Maker. And should not life's evening thus tranquillize and. elevate his feelings? Private prayer, the de- light and duty of all who have been taught of God, is an employment peculiarly appropriate to the aged Christian. Compelled to relinquish the active occu- pations of former clays, unable to read much even of the best of books, and frequently deprived, per- haps, of the long- valued ministrations of the sanc- tuary, how thankfully does he retain the inestimable privilege of pouring out his heart in secret before God, and in holding sweet converse with his heavenly Father! "I can very seldom talk or read now," said a venerable servant of God, whose days were almost numbered; "but," he added, as a happy smile lighted up his withered features, "I can pray. In my weakest moments, without opening my lips, I can make known my requests unto God, and praise him for his never-changing goodness towards me." THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 31 Let the evening of your life be much devoted to prayer; for at the close, no less than at the com- mencement of your Christian experience, you are entirely dependent upon Almighty succour. Go therefore with boldness to the throne of grace, that you may still obtain mercy, and find grace to help you in every time of need * Old age has its especial wants and trials ; but, "Ask, and it shall be given you,"f is the inscription which is ever written over the mercy-seat. Implore that strength which you require in order that you may cheerfully bear God's will now ; that support which you will need in the hour of death, when heart and flesh shall fail ; that consolation and guidance which you desire to have imparted to those whom you must leave behind in a world of grief and danger. He who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that you can ask or think, will hear and answer your feeble but heart- felt petitions. The evening of life ! Have these words a melan- choly sound ? They tell, it is true, that the bright sunshine of youth and manhood is past; that the health and the energy which impelled our steps in the path of usefulness and renown have departed; that the night of death will soon gather round us, * Heb. iv. 16. t Matt. vii. 7. 32 NEAEINQ HOME. when we must close our eyes upon all that is loved and lovely here. But are these facts unwelcome to the Christian ? Nay, are they not rather the incentives of his hope and his joy? Long a stranger and a pilgrim upon earth, do they not assure him that he is now on the borders of that country which he has so earnestly been seeking ? The worldling may mourn over the flowers which have withered in his grasp, but the Christian has a treasure laid up in heaven, and his heart is there also. The orphan spirit may shrink from the prospect of an unknown eternity ; but the child of God cannot but rejoice in the thought of soon going home. The evening of life! Aged Christian, an ever- lasting morning will soon dawn upon your redeemed and perfected spirit. "Now is your salvation nearer than when you believed."* Mark with thankfulness the shadows of evening as they deepen around you, for they are the necessary precursors of the coming day/ Calmly and trustingly as an infant that slum- bers on its mother's bosom, you will soon " sleep in Jesus," to awake in that purer and happier world, which has " no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God doth lighten it, * Roin. xiii. 11. THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 33 and the Lamb is the light thereof."* "Absent from the body," you will at once be "present with the Lord;"f you will "behold his face in righteousness;" you will "be satisfied, when you awake, with his likeness."! * Rev. xxi. 23. T 2 Cor. v. 8. % Psa. xvii. 15. 6 'be ©lir J^lts. ANONYMOUS. Ah ! don't be sorrowful, darling, And don't be sorrowful, pray ; Taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more night than day. 'Tis rainy weather, my darling, Time's waves, they heavily run ; But taking the year together, my dear, There isn't more cloud than sun. We are old folks, now, my darling, Our heads are growing gray ; But taking the year all round, my dear, You will always find a May. We have had our May, my darling, And our roses long ago ; And the time of the year is coming For the silent night of snow. 84 THE OLD FOLKS. 35, And God is God, my darling, Of night as well as day ; And we feel and know that we can go Wherever he leads the way. A God of the night, my darling, Of the night of death so grim; The gate that leads out of life, good wife, Is the gate that leads to Him. MARGARET JUNKIN. The calm, full day, so flushed with light, So draped in placid majesty, Has sunk beneath the mystic sea That shrouds the immortal from our sight. We revelled in its affluent rays, We sunned us in its atmosphere ; We drank its beauty — breathed its cheer, And felt its bliss a thousand ways. What princely flowers filled its morn ! What rich results its noontide hours ! How nobly its unresting powers Have all the heat and burden borne ! Tis well that kindly night should come With precious silence and release : So in our souls we whisper " peace" At such a tranquil sinking home. NIGHTFALL. • 37 But while we miss the golden bars That bounded in this day so bright, We look aloft — and lo ! the night That closes round us throbs with stars ! |ra%r, || |ftt0to. MISS A. L. WARING. Father, I know that all my life Is portioned out by thee, And the changes that will surely come I do not fear to see ; But I ask thee for a quiet mind, Intent on pleasing thee. I ask thee for a thankful love, Through constant watchings wise, To meet the glad with cheerful smile, And to wipe the weeping eyes ; And a heart at leisure from itself To soothe and sympathize. I would not have the restless will That wanders to and fro, Seeking for some great thing to do Or secret thing to know : I would be dealt with as a child, Led, guided where to go. ss FATHER, I KNOW. 39 Wherever in the world I am, In whatsoe'er estate, I have a fellowship with other hearts To keep and cultivate ; And a work of holy love to do For the Lord on whom I wait. I ask thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life While keeping at thy side — Content to fill a little space, So thou be glorified ! And if some things I do not ask In my cup of blessing be, I would have my spirit filled the more With gratitude to thee. More careful than to serve thee much, To serve thee perfectly. There are thorns besetting every path, That call for patient care ; There is a crook in every lot, And a need for earnest prayer ; But a lowly heart that leans on thee Is happy everywhere. 40 NEARING HOME. In a service that thy love appoints There are no bonds for me ; For my secret heart is taught the truth That makes thy children free ; And a life of self-renouncing love Is a life of liberty. fflnt ww life. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 'Tis not for man to trifle ! life is brief; And sin is here. Our age is but the falling of a leaf, A dropping tear. We have no time to sport away the hours ; All must be earnest in a world like ours. Not many lives, but only one have we — One, only one : How sacred should that one life ever be — That narrow span ! Day after day filled up with blessed toil — Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil. Our being is no shadow of thin air — No vacant dream — No fable of the things that never were, But only seem ; 'Tis full of meaning as of mystery, Though strange and solemn may that meaning be. 6 41 42 NEAEING HOME. Our sorrows are no phantom of the night — No idle tale ; No cloud that floats along a sky of light, On summer gale ; They are the true realities of earth ; Friends and companions even from our birth life below — how brief, and poor, and sad ! One heavy sigh. life above — how long, how fair, and glad ! An endless joy. Oh, to be done with daily dying here ! Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere ! day of time, how dark ! sky and earth, How dull your hue ! day of Christ, how bright ! sky and earth, Made fair and new ! Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green ; Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene ! ItttOSfttt MARTIN F. TUPPER, How many years are fled ! How many friends are dead ! Alas ! how fast The past hath passed ! How speedily life hath sped ! Places that knew me of yore Know me for theirs no more ; And sore at the change, Quite strange I range Where I was at home before. Thoughts and things, each day, Seem to be fading away ; Yet this is, I wot, Their lot to be not Continuing in one stay. A mingled mesh it seems Of facts and fancy's gleams ; 43 44 FEARING HOME. I scarce have power, From hour to hour, To separate things from dreams. Darkly, as in a glass, Like a vain shadow they pass ; Their ways they wend And tend to an end — The goal of life, alas ! Alas ! and wherefore so ? Be glad for this passing show ; The world and its lust Back must to their dust, Before the soul can grow. Expand, my willing mind, Thy nobler life to find ; Thy childhood leave ; Nor grieve to bereave 1 hine age of toys behind. Mtflcttions on §|lir lyj*. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. The autumn of our life has actually arrived. The scenes of our youth have fled for ever ; and the feel- ings and hopes of that period have passed away also, or are greatly changed. When we take a retrospect of the past, several weighty reflections cannot but press upon our minds and sadden our hearts. How true do we now find that trite remark, that the long- est life in the retrospect appears exceedingly short, though in prospect the same period appeared almost interminable ! Old age has come upon us (though its approaches were very gradual) by surprise ; and even now, except when feeling something of the in- firmities of age, or when viewing our altered image in the mirror, we are prone to forget that we are old ; and often are impelled to undertake labours to which our strength is no longer competent. Truly our life of three-score, or more, appears like a dream when we awake from sleep. And as the past years have passed 45 46 NEARING HOME. so quickly, the few that remain will not be less rapid in their flight. Indeed, to the aged, except when they are suffering protracted pain, time appears shorter than it did when they were young. Thus at least it seems to the writer ; the year, when its days and weeks and months are numbered, is as long as ever, but to our sense it seems to grow shorter. We are less absorbed and interested in passing scenes than the young. Life has with us become a sober reality. The enchanting visions of a youthful imagination have now entirely vanished. But it brings a solemn and tenderly melancholy feeling over the minds of the aged to inquire for the friends and companions of their youth. How few of these can we now find upon earth ! The ministers whose labours were made useful to us, and the very sound of whose voice was sweeter than the richest music, are now lying beneath the clods of the valley. The beloved friends with whom we were wont to take sweet counsel, and to whom we could confidingly open our whole hearts, have been torn from our side. Many dear relatives, loved it may be as our own life, have slept the sleep of death. Time may have healed the painful wounds made by such bereavements, but their loss often leaves a chasm which can never be supplied, and, at any rate, a scar which we shall carry to the grave. There is one re- REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 47 flection connected with this subject still more sad ; it is, that some in whom we once delighted, and in whom we reposed strong confidence, have turned aside from the ways of truth and righteousness in which they appeared to be walking, and, though they may be still walking up and clown upon the earth, are dead to us and to all those interests which once seemed to be common to them and us. And as to those who re- main steadfast, and have continued their pilgrimage without turning aside into crooked ways, what a sad change has time made upon their persons ! Where is the bloom of youth, the robust strength of man- hood, the eye sparkling with intelligence, and the countenance beaming with animation ? Alas ! they are fled ; and in their place we see the decrepid body, the sunken eye, the withered countenance, and the tottering gait. All are not equally changed by the ravages of time. Indeed, to some the access of gray hairs and old age brings an addition of comeliness. There is something peculiarly lovely, as well as vene- rable, in the silvery locks and placid countenance of a good old man. There is in his countenance a chas- tened expression of benignity and sobriety which long experience alone can produce. But the bitterest of all reflections to the aged is that of sins committed, duties omitted, time wasted, and 48 NEABING ROME. opportunities of doing good neglected. Reflections of this kind, at certain times, become insufferably pain- ful. And although we could not wish to go a second time through such a pilgrimage, yet we cannot but wish often that with our present views, and with the aids of experience, we could enjoy again the oppor- tunities of usefulness which were suffered to pass without improvement. But even in these painful re- grets and this bitter repentance our deceitful hearts often impose upon us, and we give ourselves more credit for present good feelings than we deserve. For let us only ask ourselves, whether we now avail our- selves of all the advantages of our situation to do good. Are we not now guilty of as gross neglects as when younger ? The probability is, therefore — yea, the cer- tainty—that if left to ourselves as much as we were, we should do no better if we were permitted to live over our unprofitable lives a second time. But while we should lay aside all fruitless wishes, we ought certainly to reflect upon our sins and short- comings, until our godly sorrow is so enkindled within us as to work a repentance not to be repented of. We cannot atone for our sins by tears of peni- tence; for this we must have recourse to another fountain, even the blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all unrighteousness ; but the flow of ingenuous, REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 49 godly sorrow has a tendency to soften and purify the heart, and our iniquities are rendered by this means odious ; so that while we are penetrated with un- feigned gratitude to God for pardoning mercy, we are rendered more w T atchful against our besetting- sins, and made to walk more tenderly and circum- spectly, and more humbly too ; for I have thought, that the reason why a covenant-keeping God some- times permits his children to fall into shameful acts of transgression is because nothing else but such a sight of themselves as these falls exhibit would suf- ficiently humble their proud hearts. The recollection of such sins serves all their life long to convince them that they ought to place themselves among the "chief of sinners" and "the least of saints." And this view of our exceeding depravity of heart serves to show ns the faithfulness and loving-kindness of God in the strongest light. According to that which he speaks in Ezek. xvi. 62, 63, "And I will estab- lish my covenant with thee; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord; that thou mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more because of thy shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the Lord God." My aged friends, permit me to counsel you not to 7 50 NEARING HOME. give way to despondency and unprofitable repining at the course of past events. Trust in the Lord, and encourage your hearts to hope in his mercy and faith- fulness. Your afflictions may have been many and e, and your present circumstances may be embar- rassing, and your prospects for the future gloomy. Providence may seem to have set you up as a mark for the arrows of adversity. Stroke upon stroke has been experienced. Billow after billow has gone over yoir, and almost overwhelmed you. Truly the time has come when you can say, "My joys are gone." But though friends have been snatched from you or have proved unfaithful ; though children, once your hope and joy, are numbered with the dead, or what is far worse, profligate or ungrateful ; though your property has wasted away, or your riches suddenly taken wings and flown like the eagle to heaven ; though bodily diseases and pain distress you, — still trust in the divine promise, " I will never leave thee, forsake thee." Though friends die, God for ever livetli. Though your earthly comforts and supports are gone, you are heir to an inheritance "incorrupt- ible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Take for your example the prophet Habakkuk, who triumphantly declares, "Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE, 51 labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salfation." Learn to live by faith: no class of peo- ple need the supports of faith and hope more than the aged. And not only believe, but act. " Work while it is called to-day." "To do good, and com- municate, forget not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." Your work is never ended while you are in the body. It is a sad mistake for aged persons to relinquish their usual pursuits and resign every- thing into the hands of their children. Many have dated their distressing melancholy from such a false step. The mind long accustomed to activity is mis- erable in a state of stagnation ; or rather, having lost its usual nutriment, it turns and preys upon itself. Lighten your burdens, but do not give up business, or study, or whatever you have been accustomed to pursue. Imbecility and dotage are also prevented, or postponed, or mitigated, by constant exercise of the mind. Keep also as much of your property, if you have any, in your own hand as is necessary for your own support, and make not yourselves dependent on the most affectionate and obedient children. They will 52 NEARIXG HOME. be more affectionate and more respectful when you are not dependent. Dismiss corroding cares and anxieties about what you shall do to get a living. How strange it is that the nearer men come to the end of their journey, the greater concern they feel as to the means of future subsistence ! God's hand will provide. His command to us is, " Be careful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanks- giving let your requests be made known unto God." "And the peace of God, which passeth all under- standing, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." ^ristiatt §raxts for i\t j|gei>. ANONYMOUS. Be patient — life is very brief, It passes quickly by ; And if it proves a troubled scene Beneath a stormy sky, It is but like the shaded night That brings a morn of radiaftce bright. Be hopeful — cheerful faith will bring A living joy to thee, And make thy life a hymn of praise, From doubt and murmur free ; Whilst like a sunbeam thou wilt bless, And bring to others happiness ! Be earnest — an immortal soul Should be a worker true; Employ thy talents for thy God, And ever keep in view The judgment scene, the last great day, When heaven and earth will pass away. 63 54 NEARING HOME. Be holy — let not sin's dark stain Thy spirit's whiteness dim — Keep close to Jesus 'mid the world, And trust alone in him ; So, midst thy business and thy rest, Thou shalt be comforted and blest. Be prayerful — ask, and thou shalt have Strength equal to thy day ; m Prayer clasps the Hand that guides the world Oh, make it then thy stay ! Ask largely, and thy God will be A kindly Giver unto thee ! . Be ready — many fall around, Our loved ones disappear ; We know not when our call may come, Nor should we wait in fear ; If ready, we can calmly rest ; Living or dying, we are blest. §5riirges. A. D. F. RANDOLPH. I. A bkidge within my heart, Known as the " Bridge of Sighs," That stretches from life's sunny part To where its darkness lies. And when upon this bridge I stand, To watch the tides below, How spread the shadows on the land ! How dark the waters grow ! Then as they wind their way along To sorrow's bitter sea, How mournful is the spirit- song That upward floats to me, — A song that breathes of blessings dead, Of joys no longer known, And pleasures gone ; — their distant tread Now to an echo grown. 55 56 NEARING HOME. And hearing thus, beleaguering fears Soon shut the present out ; The good but in the past appears, The future full of doubt. Oh, often then doth deeper grow The night that round me lies ; I would that life had run its flow, Or never found its rise. II. A Bridge within my heart, Known as the Bridge of Faith ; It spans by a mysterious art The streams of life and death. And when upon this bridge I stand, To watch the tides below, How glorious looks the sunny land ! How clear the waters flow ! Then as they wind their way along, And to a distant sea, I listen to the angel-song That sweetly floats to me, — BRIDGES. 57 A song of blessings never sere, Of love beyond compare ; And life so vexed and troublous here, So calm and perfect there. And hearing thus, a peace divine Soon shuts each sorrow out, And all is hopeful and benign Where all was fear and doubt. Oh, ever then will brighter grow The light that round me lies ; I see from life's beclouded flow A crystal stream arise I jtth Mkih. GREVILLE. A little while, and every fear That o'er the perfect day Flings shadows dark and drear, Shall pass like mist away ; The secret tear, the anxious sigh, Shall pass into a smile ; Time changes to eternity, — We only wait a little while. A little while, and every charm That steals away the heart, And earthly joys that warm And lure us from our part, Shall cease our heavenly views to dim ; The world shall not beguile Our ever-faithful thoughts from Him Who bade us wait a little while. A little while, and all around, The earth, and sea, and sky, 59 A LITTLE WHILE. 59 The sunny light and sound Of nature's minstrelsy, Shall be as they had never been, And we, so weak and vile, Be creatures of a brighter scene, — We only wait a little while. JOHN M. LOWRIE, D. D. ' Nothing but leaves ;" so the Saviour said, And then he blasted the fruitless tree ; And I ponder his curse with trembling dread, " Lest just such a word he might speak of me : I have known his name from my early youth, And my outward homage his cause receives ; Yet his judgment upon my life in truth Might render the verdict, " Nothing but leaves." " Nothing but leaves," though the ground was choice; In the Lord's own garden the tree was set ; And loving parents by life and voice Gave cheerful care to nurture it ; yet, Though of rapid growth and comely form, No answering fruit their toil retrieves ; The blossoms fell off in the first spring storm, And autumn found on it " nothing but leaves." " Nothing but leaves ;" yet the church of God Wide open her doors every Sabbath threw ; 0) THE FRUITLESS TREE. 61 And faithful preachers proclaimed aloud His fearful wrath and his mercy too ; And the showers of grace, as dew, came down, And the Spirit called who never deceives ; How many the blessings my life has known ! And still my returns are " nothing but leaves." " Nothing but leaves ;" yet I might have won More hearts than my own to taste his grace ; But the world's gay rounds my feet have run, Ever prone to the broad and downward ways ; Had I entered with zeal his harvest field, And now filled my arms with gathered sheaves, What happy reflections my life would yield ! How fearful the contrast, " Nothing but leaves!" " Nothing but leaves ;" though it has been so, Yet a remnant still of life remains ; Great Grod, thy renewing mercy show — I plead by the dying Saviour's pains ! May my zeal be warm, may my life be new, While every power of heart believes, And holy influences ever show, That I give no longer " nothing but leaves." ftctnoan. MARGARET JUNKIN. You say the years have sadder grown Beneath their weight of care and duty, That all the festive grace has flown, That wreathed and crowned their earlier beauty. You tell me Hope no more can daze Your vision with her bland delusions, Nor Fancy, versed in subtle ways, Seduce you to her gay conclusions. The rapturous throb, the bound, the flush, That made all life one strong sensation, Grow quiet now, beneath the hush Of time's profounder revelation. You have it still — the inviolate past, So pure, so free from gloss and glitter : The wine runs limpid to the last — No dregs to dash its beads with bitter. 62 AFTERNOON. 63 Vixi : — thus looking back you write ; The best that life can give, you've tasted; And drop by drop, translucent, bright, You've sipped and drained — not one is wasted. 'Tis not in retrospect your eye Alone sees pathways pranked with flowers ; You knew the while the hours flew by, They were supremely blissful hours. The sun slopes slowly westering still, Behind you now your shadow lengthens; And in the vale beneath the hill The evening's growing purple strengthens. The morning mists that swam your eye Made large and luminous life's ideal : Now, cut against your clearer sky, You comprehend the true — the real. Time still has joys that do not pall, Love still has hours serene and tender : 'Tis afternoon, dear, — that is all ! And this is afternoon's calm splendour. God grant your cloudless orb may run Long, golden cycles ere we sever ; Or, like the Northern midnight sun, Circle with light my heart for ever ! ||li> Jyje Jtttiinpaitir. REV. REUBEN SMITH. You are now descending into the valley of declin- ing years. That valley, we are persuaded, need not be dark if you but carry into it the lamp of true wisdom. To meet it aright requires reflection and experience. There is what may properly be called, perhaps, the art of growing old. But where shall it be found ? or what are those precepts and appropriate considerations and practices by which we may sus- tain and comfort ourselves when found falling " into the sear and yellow leaf" of our earthly existence? To answer these questions is the design of the pres- ent undertaking. Cicero, the heathen philosopher, has written some- thing on this subject ; nor do we think that his beau- tiful thoughts, so far as they go, are to be despised or wholly neglected. According to him, the different sources of molestation in old age are these four : 1. Our necessary withdrawing from the more active fi4 OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 65 pursuits of life. But he tells us there are other em- ployments more appropriate to this condition ; and these are specified and recommended. Then comes, 2. The loss of our voluptuary enjoyments ; but these were never worthy of man, and their loss cannot be an annoyance when they are no more desired. 3. The failure of our mental faculties comes next, but this is not necessarily or universally true. Even memory need not essentially fail in old age, when it is culti- vated ; and he adduces many examples to show that it may still be strong. 4. But the most formidable of all the evils of old age is, in that it compels us to contemplate a near approaching death; and it is in- structive to observe here by what an unsatisfying train of thoughts heathen philosophy attempts to meet this want. The argument of the aged Cato is essentially this : that death is not an evil to be dreaded, because it either ends our being, and then it is nothing ; or there is an immortality, and then it leads to eternal felicity. There is, he thinks, no third estate. For himself, he is inclined to believe in im- mortality, and then he solaces himself with the thought that he shall meet there the spirits of the illustrious and beloved dead, who, like him, will have escaped from fhis perturbed and transitory life! " illustrious day!" he exclaims, "when this shall once be!" 66 NEABUQ HOME. Now, we arc free to admit that all this, or most of it, is true and very interesting, with one exception. There are thoughts and precepts here not unworthy of a reflecting old age. But we are sure you feel their defectiveness. The last argument, in particular, is not only defective, but in part false. There is a third estate. Yes, we may live beyond time and not be happy. And then the kind of solace he seeks there is inferior, and ought not to be confined to the few things here specified. We need on every ac- count a larger and securer instruction. In nothing, perhaps, does the superiority of the blessed gospel above the teachings of heathenism more strikingly appear than in what it teaches of future happiness and the true secret of a tranquil old age. The gospel brings life and immortality to light ; the gospel does not vainly deny that old age is an evil in itself, but it admits its trials, and then provides appropriate alleviations. I. Would we learn to bear the ills of old age so as to be happy under them ? therefore, let us learn, first of all, to expect it, and submit to it when it conies as a providential event. We should learn, says the pro- verb, to be seasonably old, that we may be long old. By this it is not meant that we should antedate old age, or be too often dwelling upon it in our minds. OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 67 But since we know it must come, and lias its annoy- ances, and that all this is the order of Providence, it is best to admit the truth freely, and make the best provision for it that we can. The man who denies his age, or attempts to conceal its approach from him- self, acts unworthily both of his nature and condition. The consistent man rather faces his trials, anticipates them, and submits to them as they arise, because they are from God. And when he can say with John the Baptist, " He must increase, but I must decrease,' 1 and yet rejoice in the providence, the half of his difficulties are thereby removed. II. Here also we may properly look at and estimate the amount of these trials as they are usually seen to occur. Some trials of age are inevitable, and others may come whence they ought not. We shall undoubt- edly find some of our faculties and some of our enjoy- ments decreasing in that state. We may find ourselves pushed out of our places by those who are coming after us, and not always without a rough or thoughtless touch. The young do not in all cases honour gray hairs as they should. Some instances of vain and fanciful self-conceit will undoubtedly annoy us. The changes and wastings of things must constantly meet us — the thoughtlessness of the age aggravated to us by the too ready forgetting of what has gone before — 68 NEARING HOME. jealousy of improvements because they are new, and grief for the loss of other things because they are old ; — all these are to be met perhaps in our own case, to- gether with poverty, darkness and neglect ; and then the inevitable necessity of being swept away at last by a " rude stream that must for ever hide us," — this is more or less to be expected, and it is no wonder if the anticipations of such things do at times shake our faith and gather clouds over our future experience. III. And yet it is comfortable to be able to believe that the anticipations of abandonment and extreme trials in old age are not often realized. On the contrary, except where vicious habits or peculiar circumstances have rendered escape impossible, the wants of age are remarkably provided for, and most persons are com- paratively happy in that condition. They have many sources of enjoyment (as we shall soon see), and they have learned better to appreciate them. They have surmounted their annoyances, and their estate is gen- erally tranquil, sometimes truly enviable. Their old age is peaceful, resigned, cheerful and deeply re- spected. "The apex of old age," says Cicero, "is authority ;" by which we suppose to be meant that respect and influence to which a virtuous old man usually attains. For the attainment of this state, however, means are undoubtedly to be used. The art OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 69 is to be learned and practised. We proceed to say, therefore, IV. That an important means of rendering old age happy is to have a sufficiency of appropriate employment. Agriculture and gardening are particularly to be recommended. Let the old men plant trees, though they may never expect to eat the fruit of them ; let them cultivate a cheerful intercourse with children — let them bring forward and encourage all virtuous and enlightened progress — let them sympathize with, and, as far as possible, relieve the afflicted — let them sedulously cherish the confidence of the young and seek to do them good — let them furnish the world with the results of experience and observation — trans- mit facts and recollections — set a goodly example of patience, prayer and steadfastness, in attachment to all good institutions ; and if they have the proper furniture for it let them become authors. Old age, other things being suitable, seems the very time for authorship. We are told that Plato wrote at eighty- one years of age, and Isocrates at ninety-four. We might even recommend the study of languages, since every new language or science is an enlargement of mind, and a most absorbing employment. Cato is said to have learned Greek in his old age, and Socrates to play on musical instruments. 70 NEARING HOME. V. Again : ice should cultivate most carefully those faculties which are most usually impaired in old age. Memory is one of these. The memory soonest fails undoubtedly ; but it need not be altogether so ; nor do we see why we should not remember all we desire to remember, as well in old age as at any other period. The reason why we do not probably is, that to many things we attach less importance than we did in earlier life. Seldom does any man forget his legal titles to property; the Christian never forgets the name of his Saviour. We should occupy our memo- ries, therefore, with things most worthy to be remem- bered ; and then much may be done by practising them. Sloth and neglect will ruin any faculty. " If the instrument be blunt, then must he put to the more strength." VI. On the same principle, it is important to keep alive our hope and ambition in old age. The affections of the mind can in many things control bodily in- firmities, and among these affections there are none stronger than those of hope and ambition. " An old man can do something," says one ; " I will show it," cries another ; and " I shall succeed," says a third. And now by believing, feeling, and trying ', success and great usefulness are finally attained ; while on the other hand many no doubt have sunk prematurely, OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 71 through mere discouragement or retiring too early from the activities of life. Cases are occurring to show that health and physical strength may be greatly extended by determined and appropriate efforts, and why should it not be so with mental activities ? Let us never give up hope. VII. Let us learn to avoid and resist as far as possible those things which may be called the besetting infirmities of this condition. These are jealousy of neglect, an undue valuation of old things, peevishness, neglect of personal appearance, moroseness, or discontent with our whole condition. These are natural tenden- cies undoubtedly, and great annoyances where they exist ; but much may be done by foreseeing and avoid- ing them. It was Dean Swift who wrote his resolu- tions as to what he would not do in old age. But the better recommendation is prayer, watchfulness, and a constant exercise of patience. VIII. Another rule is, to think as little as possible of our losses in old age, and more of the blessings which still remain. No doubt natural differences of dispo- sition will have influence here, and some cases are so providentially afflictive that human efforts can do little to modify them. But in general we believe that cheerfulness and entire contentment may be se- cured in the way now suggested ; and we have wit- 72 NEARHJG HOME. nessed some cases of this that were truly edifying. " See," said an old lady of eighty-six to her pastor, "how well I can read without spectacles /" "Yes," said he, " and you have all these other comforts. Here are your convenient accommodations, your dutiful children, and, above all, your Bible with all its pre- cious promises." " I know it, I know it," said she, with rising animation ; " I am only afraid that I am not thankful enough." Now that individual would have been cheerful in almost any condition. The happiness we recommend is not of indifference, how- ever — not of a mere animal, but of a rational being, and therefore it is reflective. IX. We must not omit now those more direct exer- cises of prayer, and faith, and Christian meditation so necessary and so becoming the condition we are con- templating. The aged should have opportunities for these. They should have retirement and freedom from noise; and it is one of the greatest cruelties practised upon them that these opportunities are sometimes denied. But what more pleasant, what more appropriate and profitable, when they are en- joyed, than to "Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Of that vast ocean we must sail so soon ;" to spend much of our time in reading, meditation OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 73 and prayer; to withdraw our affections more and more from the world, like old Barzillai ; to reflect much on God's dealings with us, like David in the 71st Psalm, and to seek the welfare of Zion, and all around us, as we find ourselves descending to the tomb ! " The land of silence and of death awaits my next remove : Oh may these poor remains of breath teach the wide world thy love." X. But we come to the closing scene. We must all come there at last ; and now the great question is — the only question worthy of much solicitude — how shall we best be prepared to meet anticipated death? Not, we answer, by the cold despisings of philoso- phy — not by mere natural resolution or vain speculation, as if death must either be nothing, or necessarily lead to eternal felicity. For, alas, we may live after death in a very different state! And no mere natural resources seem sufficient to face with calmness a responsibility like this. Nor yet is it a sufficient solace, in view of death, that we may say, We shall meet beyond death those with whom we held intercourse here on earth. No, we feel, we know that we want all this, and more. Now, the true Christian, and he alone, has this re- source. To him the blessed gospel "has brought life and immortality to light." He believes this. 10 74 HEARING HOME. He has long obeyed the gospel, and tasted some of its blessed consolations ; and now, in his old age, he lies down to die with infinitely more and better enjoyments than the wisest of heathens ever knew. He has all that Cicero wrote so pleasingly of; and then he goes much further. He knows he must die; he sees death near; and yet he does not shudder. He has heard his divine Redeemer say, " I am the resurrection and the life," and he responds, " I know that my Redeemer liveth." He is conscious, never more so than now, of his great sins and great de- ficiencies of obedience ; but he knows also that he has a great and mighty Saviour, and "that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He expects a glorious resurrection also ; and then as to the felici- ties that await him beyond the grave, he does not confine them to mere social intercourse, such as he possessed on earth, but expects these infinitely im- proved ; and then the superadded and almost incon- ceivable fruition of a present God, an openly-beheld Saviour, and the society of all holy and elevated beings — angels and men — in one unwearying activity around the throne of God for ever. Illustrious day indeed, when all this is to be entered upon and en- joyed! As to leaving the world, lie does not regret it, for he has enjoyed what of good it could ever OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 75 afford, and finished his usefulness in it. Dear ob- jects of his affection are there still, but he leaves his blessing with them, and hopes besides to meet them all again " at the great rising clay." And thus he dies, easily, tranquilly, and with glorious hopes. " Sure the last end of the good man is peace. Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground ; Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft." as 0bittg-|nttirt«ss. REV. SAMUEL MEDLEY. Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, And sing thy great Redeemer's praise He justly claims a song from thee ; His loving-kindness, oh, how free ! He saw me ruined in the fall, Yet loved me notwithstanding all ; He saved me from my lost estate, His loving-kindness, oh, how great ! Though num'rous hosts of mighty foes r Though earth and hell my way oppose, He safely leads my soul along, His loving-kindness, oh, how strong ! When trouble, like a gloomy cloud, Has gathered thick, and thundered loud, He near my soul has always stood, His loving-kindness, oh, how good ! 78 L VINO-KINDNESS. 77 Often I feel my sinful heart Prone from my Saviour to depart ; But, though I oft have him forgot, His loving-kindness changes not. toon shall I pass the gloomy vale, Soon all my mortal powers must fail ; Oh, may my last expiring breath His loving-kindness sing in death. H j|cto movt gags. HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. A few more years shall roll, A few more seasons come, And we shall be with those that rest Asleep within the tomb. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that great day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away ! A few more suns shall set O'er these dark hills of time, And we shall be where suns are not — A far serener clime. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away ! A few more storms shall beat On this wild, rocky shore, t8 A FEW MORE DAYS. 79 And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that calm day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away. A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more. Then, my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day ; Oh wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away. Sbitre frith mt. REV. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE. Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide, The darkness thickens ; Lord, with me abide : When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh abide with me. Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away : Change and decay in all around I see ; thou, who changest not, abide with me. Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord — Familiar, condescending, patient, free ; Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me. Thou on my head in early youth did'st smile, And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, Thou hast not left me, oft as I left thee ; On to the close, Lord, abide with me. ABIDE WITH ME. 81 I need thy jDresence every passing hour ; What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power? Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be ? Through cloud and sunshine, oh abide with me. I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless ; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still if thou abide with me. 11 0ir is mg HENGSTENBERG. God is my Light! — Never, my soul, despair In hours of thy distress ! The sun withdraws, and earth is dark and drear ; My light will never cease, days of joy with splendour beaming ! Through nights of grief, its rays are gleaming ; God is my Light ! God is my Trust ! — My soul, be not afraid ! Thy Helper will abide : " I'll not forsake thee !" — he has kindly said, — He's ever at thy side ; In feeble age will yet stand by thee, No real good will he deny thee ; — God is my Trust ! His is the power ! — He speaks, and it is done ; Commands, it standeth fast ; * Translated by Dr. Mills. 82 GOD IS MY LIGHT. 83 Ere hope of rescue is in me begun, Behold, the work is past ! When we our weakness most are feeling, God loves to prove, his strength revealing, His is the power. God is my shield ! — Of me he takes the care As none beside could do ; He guards my head, — he watches every hair, All dangers brings me through ; While thousands, to vain helpers calling, On right and left are near me falling, — He is my Shield ! God's my reward ! — Well pleased I onward go The path that he has shown : It has no trials but my God will know, When he awards my crown. I'll gladly strive, the fight sustaining, Until in death the victory gaining, — God's my Reward ! * fee fhlgrim's tttttozytct. REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. 11 Call to remembrance the former days." — Heb. x. 32. I've travelled a long and weary way, Through many a valley dim ; I have wept in the morning gray, And sobbed my evening hymn ; But 'tis the way that leads me home, No more to weep, no more to roam; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." Sore conflicts oft with sin I've known, And tempest-tossed have been ; My heart was rent with many a groan; Alas, the power of sin ! But strength was given and armour bright; I walked by faith, and not by sight ; 84 THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT. 85 And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " Tis I ; be not afraid." The light of cherished hopes went out, And darkening storms came on ; In forests cold I roamed about, And refuge there was none ; But Jesus came to my relief, He hushed the wailings of my grief ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." Soon on my home dark shadows fell, My dearly- loved was dead ! Then sadly tolled the funeral bell, And blinding tears were shed ; But in the gloom arose a light, As Jesus passed within my sight ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 86 NEARTNG HOME. But mercies too have crowned my years, And many days were bright ; The lamps of heaven dispelled my fears, And bathed my path with light ; 'Twas sweet to lean on Jesus' arm, To feel secure from real harm ; And like a Sabbath chime Along the by-gone time, The voice of Him who said, " 'Tis I ; be nov afraid." jgmpatljg attir Selfishness. ANONYMOUS. Each season of life has its own peculiar tendencies and temptations. But selfishness is at all times and under all circumstances the common sin which doth so easily beset us. In early youth we are prone to imagine that everybody and everything about us ought in some way to minister to our gratification, and we therefore strive to employ them in the furtherance of the plans which we have arranged for our own happiness. In old age, when the infirmities of life compel us to withdraw from its activities and its pleasures, we are in danger of supposing that since we can derive but little enjoyment now from those sources which once yielded to us a rich supply, it is a matter of little importance to us whether others find any satisfaction in them or not. It often hap- pens that old age narrows the channel of our benevo- lence and our sympathy ; we have less to receive, and we think we cannot have so much to give. Our thoughts, allowed to take their natural course, be- come concentrated on "self;" all that personally con- 87 88 NEAEING HOME. cerns us is so magnified as very much to hide from our view the interests of our neighbours ; we look so steadily and so exclusively on our own good that we almost lose sight of the good of others. Now, will you guard against the influence of these selfish feelings? Will you bear in mind how op- posed, how thoroughly opposed, are selfishness and Christianity? Will you reflect upon the injury which you may do to religion by allowing an undue regard for self to be manifested in the little occur- rences of your everyday life? A young man, who was urged by a pious friend to devote himself to the service of God, made this reply : " It is of no use to talk to me in this way ; I have seen too much of re- ligious people to desire to be like them. They pre- tend to be a great deal better than everybody else, but they are just the same underneath. Why, there's my uncle S , an old man with one foot already in the grave ; he calls himself a Christian, and yet he is as covetous and as selfish as possible. See him at home ; his comfort, his ease, his wishes, must be first consulted ; everybody must give way to him; and he is constantly taking offence because he thinks lie lias not sufficient attention and respect paid to him. What's the use of religion? it is all show — mere show." SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 89 Tt was not difficult to answer such an objection as this, but it was difficult to remove the prejudice and the misconception which had gathered around that young man's mind. The selfish behaviour of his aged relative, in conjunction with that of others, had so set him against religion that he would not listen to its claims ; and, although moral and amiable in his conduct, he still remains estranged from God and from his people. It is true that the faults and in- consistencies of professed Christians will furnish no valid excuse for his refusal to love and serve his Grod and Saviour; but ought they not to excite the deepest grief and shame in those who have thus thrown additional stumbling-blocks in the way of a sinner's return? Ought we not earnestly to watch and pray that we do not bring reproach upon that holy name by which we are called, through our self-love and self-indulgence ? It is not so much by flagrant de- partures 'from the ways of godliness that we exert a baneful influence over the undecided and the uncon- verted, as by our apparently careless disregard of whatsoever things are lovely and of good report. The warm and generous-hearted spirit of youth will shrink with distaste, if not with disgust, from a religion which our actions have led him to ally with meanness and selfishness. Our prayers, our zeal, 12 90 NEABING HOME. our alms-giving, our profession, will have but little weight with him if they are associated day after day with the unhallowed and unamiable endeavour to secure our personal ease, in preference to the comfort of others; — he will regard them but as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And will he not rightly regard them? "Though I have all faith and know- ledge ; though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor ; and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love — that love which seeketh not her own; which vaunteth not itself, but which suffereth long and is kind — it profiteth me nothing."* Let not, then, the infirmities of age be a plea for your lessened sympathy with others. Should the graces of the Christian decline with his fading strength ? should the shadow of the tomb dim the light of his heaven-born love? Surely the nearer that he approaches to the pure and peaceful fellow- ship of the saints above, the more should his spirit be conformed to theirs. And is theirs a spirit of selfishness ? Are they absorbed in their own inter- ests, their own occupations, their own joys ? are they indifferent to the feelings and the pleasures of their bright companions? No; they joyfully and fully sympathize with each other ; self is forgotten there ; * 1 Cor. xiii. SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 91 and if we hope, through a Saviour's merits, to reach the home where they dwell, let us endeavour to cherish corresponding emotions to theirs. Let us strive to follow them as they, when on earth, followed Christ. Ah, let us rather look at once at Jesus, our perfect model, our brightest example ; let us ask to have the mind that was in him, and to be imbued with his Spirit. For then we cannot live day after day — as some who profess and call themselves Chris- tians do live — cold and careless about the welfare of others, and at the same time intensely solicitous to promote our own. "Ye have not so learned Christ; if so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus."* His doc- trine which we have received into our hearts, and his example which we have chosen as the guide of our conduct, lead us to deny ourselves that we may benefit others, and to take the liveliest interest in all that relates to their happiness. And we are not to retrace our steps as years in- crease. We are not to be peevish, discontented, or unreasonable because we are old or getting old. This is certainly not our creed, and, God helping us, it shall never be our practice. As we advance in life we should be more considerate, more kind, more * EpL iv. 20, 21. 92 NEARING HOME. like Christ, not less so ; and if we abide in him, and his words abide in us, there can be no doubt that we shall thus grow in grace. The stream of Christian affection will become deeper, not shallower ; the flame of unselfish love will burn more brightly, instead of almost going out. Oh how delightful is the sight of an aged be- liever richly imbued with the loving and unselfish spirit of his Master ! How refreshing is it in this dreary world to rest a while beneath some venerable palm tree, which spreads out its cooling branches as if the only object of its existence were to bless the passer-by! How cheering is it, amidst the selfish and dissatisfied throng around us, to meet with those who can smile through their own tears upon the happy and the gifted ! An aged servant of the Lord had survived all her near relatives ; the last beloved object of her tender affections, of her constant recollection, was laid in the grave. Her life had been the scene of many sorrows, and there was but little sunshine to cheer the evening of her life. One day, as, lonely and blind, she sat by the fireside in her little parlour, a friend who called to see her found her — doing what? Murmuring over her desolate condition, and com- plaining that she was uncared-for and forgotten? SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 93 No, but rejoicing in the happiness of others. A family whom she had known and loved in early life was to be gladdened on that day by the return of a long-absent member; and, through its dull and silent hours, her lips were often unclosed to express her delight at the thoughts of their meeting, her prayers that they might be blessed. " Were this my case," thought the listener, " I should have been repining that others had the comfort of tender relatives and loving friends, while I was left alone in the world, looking for none whose approach could console and gladden my solitary existence." The latter feeling is the emotion of the natural heart — the former of the Christian spirit. Reader, which would have been yours ? kti Bpbionv* imager. ANONYMOUS. I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil." — John xvii. 15. Pilgrim in the path of life, Fainting in the daily strife, Wishing, longing to be free From thy load of misery, Panting for the heavenly home, Where no blighting sorrows come : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. Mourner, bending o'er the dead, From whose cheek the bloom has fled, Gazing in the glassy eye, Vainly asking for reply, Wishing that thy days were done, And thou with thy beloved one : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. 94 THE SAVIOUR'S PRAYER. 95 Aged wanderer, sad and lone, All thy youth's companions gone, Like blasted trunk, round which the vine Shall never more its tendrils twine, Like stranger on a foreign coast Weeping o'er his treasures lost : List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, Wait his time to set thee free. " Not that thou should' st take away These thy creatures of a day, Pray I, Father, but that in Thy mercy thou would' st save from sin; Keep them from the evil one, Till their course of life is run." This thy Saviour prayed for tnee,' Patient wait till thou art free. \t %&tb ifwrisifan. ANONYMOUS. The spring and summer time of life have long since pass'd away, And golden autumn, with its leaves of sadness and decay, Has come and gone ; and winter shrouds each lovely scene in gloom, And bids me mark across my path the shadows of the tomb. Mine eye is growing dim with age, my step is feeble now, And deeper lines of thought and care are graven on my brow ; But shall I murmur as I trace the rapid flight of hours, Or grasp with trembling eagerness earth's fair yet fading flowers ? Oh no ! a bright and happy home awaiteth me above, And my ardent spirit longs to dwell where all is joy and love. 96 THE AGED CHRISTIAN. 97 Does the wave-tossed mariner regret when he sees the haven near Where his shattered bark shall safely rest, nor storm nor danger fear ? Will the toil-worn labourer sigh because his weary task must close, And evening's peaceful shades afford him calm and sweet repose ? Or does the child with sorrow mark each swift re- volving mile Which bears him to his cherished home and loving father's smile ? And shall the Christian grieve because some gentle signs are given That he is nearer to the bliss, the perfect bliss of heaven ? That every moment closer brings that mansion fair and bright, Prepared for him with tender love in realms of -pure delight? Oh ! with such brilliant hopes as these how can my heart repine, Although I feel my vigour fade, my wonted strength decline ? 13 98 NEARING HOME. Rather with gladness would I hail these messages of love, Which tell me I shall quickly join the white-robed throng above. My pilgrimage will soon be o'er, my arduous race be run, And the bright crown of victory triumphant faith have won ; No sorrow clouds the land of rest, hush'd is the thought of pain : Oh ! if for me to live is Christ, to die indeed is gain ! m\t %oict ixtsvx faille*. HORATtUS BONAR, D. D. " Of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace." — John i. 16. I heard the voice of Jesus say. Come unto me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon my breast. I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in him a resting-place, And he has made me glad. I heard the voice of Jesus say, Behold, I freely give The living water, — thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live. I came to Jesus and I drank Of that life-giving stream ; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in him. 99 100 NEABING HOME. I heard the voice of Jesus say, I am this dark world's light, Look unto me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright. I looked to Jesus and I found In him my star, my sun ; And in that light of life I'll walk Till travelling days are done. ©Ijt Sa%r-|f anir.* FROM THE GERMAN OF CLAUS HARMS. Know ye the land — on earth 'twere vainly sought — To which the heart in sorrows turns its thought ? Where no complaint is heard, — tears never flow, — The good are blest, — the weak with vigour glow ? Know ye it well ? For this, for this, All earthly wish or care, my friends, dismiss ! Know ye the way — the rugged path of thorns ? His lagging progress there the traveller mourns ; He faints, he sinks, — from dust he cries to God — " Relieve me, Father, from the weary road !" Know ye it well ? It guides, it guides To that dear land where all we hope abides. Know ye that Friend ? — In him a man you see ; — Yet more than man, more than all men, is he : * Translated by Dr. Mills. 101 102 NEAEINO HOME. Himself before us trod the path of thorns ; To pilgrims now his heart with pity turns. Know ye him well ? His hand, his hand Will safely bring us to that Father-land. JAMES HAMILTON, D. D. "The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree." — Psa. xcii. 12. The Palm brings forth its best fruit in old age. The best dates are said to be gathered when it has reached a hundred years. So it is with eminent Christians : the older the better ; the older the more beautiful ; nay, the older the more useful ; and, differ- ent from worldlings, the older the happier. The best Christians are those who improve to the end, who grow in grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ to the very close of life. They loved him at first, but now they love him more. At first they were selfish, and only sought to escape from wrath ; now they are jealous of the Saviour's honour, and long to be saved from sin. At first they only thought of the Priest ; now they perceive the Priest upon a throne, and love not only the Saviour's cross, but the Saviour's yoke and the Saviour's laws. One Jesus is their King. And they grow in knowledge of themselves. The truth to 103 104 NEABINQ HOME. which they once assented becomes a deep-wrought experience. " In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." And the discovery of this de- pravity, the knowledge how debased and worthless their nature has become, instead of making them morose and bitter towards their fellow-sharers in the fall, makes them lenient and considerate. They know themselves too well to expect perfection in their friends, and find brethren to whom they can slick close in the face of obvious failings ; and even wben they hear of awful wickedness, indignation is chastened by shame and self-consciousness. It is something of the old Reformer's feeling when he saw the malefactor led to prison : — " There, but for the grace of God, goes John Bradford." And they grow in wisdom. Long experience, and still more the secret of the Lord, dispassionate observation and heavenly-mindedness, have given them sagacity ; and sometimes in homely adages, sometimes in direct and sober counsel, they deal forth that mellow wis- dom. And they grow in spirituality. We have seen those aged pilgrims to whom earthly things at last grew insipid; they had no curiosity for the news of the day, and little taste for fresh and entertaining books. They stuck to God's testimonies, and you never went in to see them but the ample Bible lay THE PALM. 105 open on the table or the counterpane ; and they could tell the portion which had been that morning's food or the meditation of the previous night. The word of God dwelt in them so richly that you could see they were becoming fit to dwell with God ; for when a mind has become thoroughly scriptural it wants but another step to make it celestial. And the last harvest came, and the last gleanings of their precious words, and when next we went that way their place knew them no longer. They were flourishing in the courts of God's house on high, and we should sit under their shadow and be regaled by their goodness no more. But when we recollected how fair their Christian profession was, how beneficent and service- able they had ever been, and remembered that their last days were their brightest, and their last fruits their fairest, we said over to ourselves, " The right- eous shall flourish like the palm tree. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing; to show that the Lord is upright ; he is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him." Dear Christian reader, when your own ear cannot hear it, may this be your eulogy : when your own eye cannot read it, may this be your epitaph. In the 14 106 NEABING HOME. meanwhile, for the sake of that Saviour who is dis- honoured by proud and selfish and unlovely disci- ples, do you strive and pray for consistency. And for your own soul's sake, which is dulled by defective views, and depressed by each besetting sin, do you seek a serene and lofty faith — do you covet earnestly a blameless conversation. Let your triumphs over self, and your high-hearted zeal for the Saviour, let the largeness of your spirit and your heavenly ele- vation, let the exuberance of your goodness and the multitude of its special acts, let the fulness of your affections and the freshness of your feelings, and the abundance of your beneficence, make the Christian manifest and unmistakable. Let your happy piety be the far-eyed signal announcing an oasis in the desert, and pray that your church or congregation may become to weary pilgrims another Elim, where when they came they found " twelve wells of water, and threescore and ten palm trees." mob, mg ffismfcinj mo$. JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D. Psalm xliii. 4. Eakly my spirit turned From earthly things away, And agonized and yearned For the eternal day ; Dimly I saw when but a boy, God, my exceeding joy. In days of fiercer flame, When passion urged me on, 'Twas only bliss in name — The pleasure soon was gone. Compared with thee how all things cloy, God, my exceeding joy ! At length the moment came — Jesus made known his love ; High shot the kindling flame To glories all above, 107 108 NEABING HOME. Now all the powers one theme employ God, my exceeding joy. Shadows came on apace ; Tears were a pensive shower ; I cried for timely grace To save me from the hour ; Thou gavest peace, without alloy ; God, my exceeding joy. One trial yet awaits, Gigantic at the close ; All that my spirit hates May then my peace oppose ; But God shall this last foe destroy, — God, my exceeding joy %, Mumt in tlje ^anir, HANNAH F. GOULD. Alone I walked the ocean strand, A pearly shell was in my hand ; I stooped, and wrote upon the sand My name — the year — the day ; As onward from the spot I passed, One lingering look behind I cast — A wave came rolling high and fast, And washed my lines away. And so, methought, 'twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me ; A wave of dark oblivion's sea Will sweep across the place Where I have trod the sandy shore Of time, and been, to be no more ; Of me, my frame, the name I bore, To leave no track nor trace. And yet, with him who counts the sands, And holds the waters in his hands, 109 110 NEARINO EOME, I know a lasting record stands Inscribed against my name, Of all this mortal part has wrought, Of all this thinking soul has thought, And from these fleeting moments caught For glory or for shame ! §till toill toe Sntst WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary, And the heart faint beneath his chastening rod ; Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary, Still will we trust in God ! Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed, And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain ; Through Him alone who hath our way appointed We find our peace again. Choose for us, God ! — nor let our weak preferring Cheat our poor souls of good thou hast designed ; Choose for us, God ! — thy wisdom is unerring, And we are fools and blind. So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows, And day pour gladness through his golden gates ; Our rough path leads to flower-enamelled meadows, Where joy our coming waits. 111 112 HEARING HOME. Let us press on in patient self-denial, Accept the hardship, shrinking not from loss — Our guerdon lies beyond the hour of trial ; Our crown beyond the cross. & fytosystt of Mcztbm. ISAAC WATTS, D. D. There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite clay excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flow'rs ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Caanan stood, While Jordan rolled between. But timorous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea ; And linger, shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away. 15 113 114 • NEARTNG HOME. Oil could we make our doubts remove — Those gloomy doubts that rise — And see the Caanan that we love With unbeclouded eyes ; Could we but climb where Moses stood, And view the landscape o'er, "Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore. J|0ttttS£ls t0 % !$*&• ARCHIBAL.' ALEXANDER, D. D. As an aged man, I would say to my fellow-pilgrims who are also in this advanced stage of the journey of life, endeavour to be useful as long as you are continued upon earth. We are, it is true, subject to many peculiar infirmities, both of body and mind, to bear up under which requires much exertion, and no small share of divine assistance ; but still we have some advantages not possessed by the young. We have received important lessons from experience, which, if they have been rightly improved, are of inestimable value. The book of divine providence, which is in a great measure sealed to them, has been unfolded to us. We can look back and contemplate all the way along which the Lord has led us. We can now see the wise design of our Father in many events which, at the time, were dark and mysterious. The knowledge to be derived from studying the book of God's providence cannot be communicated to 115 116 neXbinq home. another ; the lessons are like the name upon the white stone, which none can read but he that has it. The successive events of our lives we can make known, hut the connection which these events have with our character, our sins, and our prayers can be fully understood only by ourselves. He who neglects to study the pages of this book deprives himself of one most important means of improvement; yet many professors of religion appear to pay little or no atten- tion to the providence of God in relation to them- selves. If they meet with some severe judgment or some great deliverance, their attention is arrested, and they acknowledge the hand of God in the dispen- sation ; but as to the succession of ordinary events, they seem to have no practical belief that they are ordered by divine providence, or have any important relation to their duty or interest. I would affection- ately entreat my aged brethren to make the dealings of God's providence towards themselves a subject of careful study. There is within our reach, except in the Bible, no source of instruction more important. And to aid you in this business permit me to recom- mend to your careful perusal two little volumes on Providence, which I have found useful and comfort- able to myself. The first is Havel's "Mystery of Providence Opened ;" and the other is Boston's COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 117 "Crook in the Lot.'' These excellent treatises may be read over and over again with profit. Perhaps the best method of studying such books is, not to read the whole at once, or in a short time, but to peruse a few paragraphs at a time, and then reflect upon the subject, and make application of what we read to our own case. And while I am recommending works on this subject I ought not to omit mentioning Char- nock's treatise on " Providence." I confess I am not so familiar with this as the treatises before mentioned, but I have found his other writings, especially those on the Divine Attributes, so surpassing in excellence that I feel willing to recommend any thing which ever proceeded from his pen. I began this letter with an exhortation to endeav- our to be useful while you live. To comply with this you should, in the first place, guard vigilantly against tljose faults and foibles into which old people are apt to fall. We must be careful not to mistake moroseness for seriousness, austerity for gravity, or discontent with our condition for deadness to the world. Why should the aged be more peevish and morose than others ? If they are pious, there can be no good reason for it ; but it is not difficult to account for the fact. In the decline of life a gradual change takes 118 XEABING HOME. place in our physical system by which the mind is considerably affected ; and often positive disease is added to this natural change. The nervous system is debilitated and shattered ; and in consequence the spirits are apt to sink or to become irregular. To these may be added the afflictions and disappoint- ments which most experience in the course of a long- life, by which the temper is apt to be soured. And when men, by reason of the decay of mind and body, become disqualified for the same active services which thfey were long accustomed to perform, and these fall into the hands of juniors, whom they knew when children, it is very natural to feel as if the world was turning round — as if every thing was going wrong. Old men have always been wont to laud the times, long past, when they were young, and to censure all the innovations which have come in since. Some- times, also, the aged experience a neglect .from the young, and even a want of respect from their own children, which is exceedingly mortifying, and tends much to foster that acerbity of temper so frequently found in the aged. But although these and other similar things may be truly pleaded in extenuation of the fault under consideration, yet they do by no means amount to an apology which exculpates us from blame. And COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 119 that old age is not necessarily accompanied by these un ami able traits of character is proved by many happy examples. Some aged persons exhibit an uniform cheerfulness and serenity of mind ; and the remarkable fact has been recorded in regard to a few that a naturally irritable temper has been softened arid mellowed, instead of being exacerbated by old age. If I recollect rightly, this is mentioned as true in relation to the Rev. Dr. Rodgers of New York by his biographer, my respected colleague, the Rev. Dr. Miller. The late venerable Dr. Livingston, of the Du;ch Reformed Church, President of their College and Seminary, was distinguished by uniform cheer - fuln3ss to a very advanced age ; and his cordial and affectionate manners were remarked and felt by all who approached him. The Rev. John Newton, of London, seems to have possessed, with large mea- sures of divine grace, a very happy physical tem- perament. It is delightful to contemplate the old age of such a man. And while I am mentioning recorded examples of a temper in old age deserving of imitation, I would recall to the remembrance of my readers the case of the Rev. Dr. Thomas Scott, who, at a period of life when most men relinquish all severe labour, actually undertook to learn the Arabic language, that he might be able to give 120 NEARING HOME. instruction to the missionaries going to the East It has often been noticed that piety is apt to decline with the decline of manly vigour. If this be really a common event, it is exceedingly to be deplored. But perhaps it is more in appearance than reality. It requires much stronger faith and feelings of warmer piety to enable an old man to go forward in his course with zeal and alacrity than for a young man, who is buoyed up and borne along by the vigour of youthful passions, to do the same. But I rejoice to know that piety does not always even appear to grow cold by the descent into the vale of years. In some Christians it evidently goes on advancing ; and their growth in grace is much more rapid in this period of life than any other. As they approach nearer to heaven, their hearts and their conversation are more in heaven. Oh that it might be thus with us all ! As these letters are intended also for my aged friends of the female sex, I would recommend to their notice and imitation the old age of Mrs. Han- nah More. From her first appearance as a Christian she seems to have gone on advancing in evangelical knowledge and ardent piety until she was com- pletely superannuated. And even then she lost no- thing of the respect and affection which by her pious and benevolent labours she had gained: for still, COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 121 when her memory was so impaired that she did not remember the books she had written; the elevation of her piety and the enlargement of her benevolence remained unimpaired. And it is truly a delightful thought that when in the wreck of mind the whole cargo of knowledge seems to be lost, and parents no longer recognize their own children, religion, where it was possessed, still remains. Jesus Christ is never forgotten. Pious sentiments are never ob- literated. Cicero in his beautiful little treatise on Old Age, in which many judicious and pleasing sen- timents are expressed, when speaking of the decay of the memory, says that he never heard of a miser forgetting the place where he had buried his treasure. What the mind prizes most is longest retained in memory. It is often remarked, and justly, " How beautiful does unaffected piety appear in youth!" But it may as truly be said, " How amiable and vene- rable is exalted piety in old age I" It has been said that avarice is peculiarly the sin of age ; we often hear of an old, but scarcely ever of a young, miser. This may be true in regard to those who have cherished the love of the world all their lives. They will hug their treasures with a closer grasp, and their affections will be more concentrated on them when other objects are removed ; but this 16 122 NEABINQ HOME. vice does not originate in old age ; it is only the ma ture fruit of the seed planted in early life; and though it becomes deeply radicated in old age, it is not now so much the desire of acquiring wealth as of holding fast what they have got. The folly of the miser who hoards his money without a thought of using it is easily shown, and has often been ridiculed. But the truth is, that all ardent pursuit of worldly objects beyond what is necessary for the real wants of nature might be demonstrated to be equally absurd. But whatever men of the world may do, let not Christians dishonour their holy profession by an inordinate love of the world. Especially, let not the aged professor bring into doubt the sincerity of his religion by manifesting a covetous disposition. " Take heed," said the Great Teacher, "and beware of covetousness ; for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." Many begin the world with little, and the claims of an increasing family render it necessary to exercise much diligence and economy to make a living ; but thus it often happens that an avaricious disposition under the semblance of necessity, and even of duty, strikes its roots deep into the soul ere the man is aware of any danger. Indeed, it is almost impossible to convince a man of the sin of covetousness while he avoids open acts of COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 123 injustice or fraud. Dear friends, it is time for many of you to give up the further pursuit of wealth, un- less your object is to acquire the means of doing good. But beware of the deceitful n ess of the heart. Covet- ousness will allow you to promise such an appropriation of your gains. But put yourselves to the test by a sim- ple experiment. Ask yourselves whether you are now willing to make that use of the property which God has given you that his honour and the advancement of Christ's kingdom require. If you indeed find in yourself that disposition to consecrate all that you have to the glory of God, then it may be lawful to go on to acquire further means of usefulness. But whatever you now possess, or may hereafter acquire, of this world's goods, for your soul's sake set not your affections on these perishable things. Be not proud of your wealth. Neglect not while you live to do good and communicate. Remember that you are but the steward of the wealth which you possess, and therefore it is required of you to be faithful in the distribution of what is put into your hands. If you have tried the plan of parsimony lest you should lessen your estate, now try the plan of wise liberality, and see whether that saying of Christ is not verified by experience, that "It is more blessed to give than to receive." 124 HEARING 1ICME. Whether in the former periods of our lives we have had prosperity or have passed through the deep waters of affliction, it is nearly certain that in our old age we shall feel the strokes of adversity. If our friends have been preserved in life thus far, yet we know they must all die. If hitherto we have enjoyed uninterrupted health, yet now we must expect to en- counter pain and disease. Old age itself may be called the common disease of our nature, which can only be escaped by death. Mr. Newton, in one of his last letters, says that he had but one disease, but that was incurable, which was old age. Then, my dear friends, let us set an example of patience and cheerful resignation under the afflictions which may be laid upon us. The passive virtues are more diffi- cult to be exercised than the active, and God is per- haps more honoured by quiet submission to his will under sufferings than by the greatest achievements of zeal and exertion. But let us never forget that we have not the least strength in ourselves. We are dependent on the grace of God for every good thought and desire. But if we trust in him we shall never be ashamed. Mtnnt ta jp**. MISS SARAH F. ADAMS. u As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, God. "My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" — Psa. xlii. 1, 2. " Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee !" E'en though it be a cross That-raiseth me ; Still all my song shall be, " Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee !" Though like a wanderer,* The sun go down — Darkness comes over me, My rest a stone ; Yet, in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee ! * See Gen. xxviii. 10-22. 125 126 NEARING HOME. There let my way appear Steps unto heaven ; All that thou senclest me In mercy given ; Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee ! Then, with my waking thoughts Bright with thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise ; So by my woes to be Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee ! And when on joyful wing, Cleaving the sky, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Upward I fly, Still all my song shall be, " Nearer, my God, to thee — Nearer to thee !" Mg 8*st is in mtttbtxt. ANONYMOUS. " Here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." — Heb. xiii. ]4. My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here ; Then why should I tremble when trials are near? Be hushed, my sad spirit; the worst that can come* But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home. It is not for me to be seeking my bliss And building my hopes in a region like this ; I look for a city which hands have not piled — I pant for a country by sin undefiled. The thorn and the thistle around me may grow — I would not lie down e'en on roses below ; I ask not my portion, I seek not a rest, Till I find them for ever on Jesus' loved breast. Let trial and danger my progress oppose, They only make heaven more sweet at the close ; Come joy, or come sorrow, whate'er may befall ; A home with my God will make up for it all. 127 128 NEARING HOME. With a scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, I march on in haste through an enemy's land ; The road may be rough, but it cannot be long, So I'll smooth it with hope and cheer it with song. Ije fifjrohw of mjj jfooyt. WILLIAM COWPER. My Saviour, whom absent I love, Whom, not having seen, I adore, Whose name is exalted above All glory, dominion, and pow'r, — Dissolve thou those bands that detain My soul from her portion in thee ; Ah ! strike off this adamant chain, And make me eternally free. When that happy era begins, When clothed in thy glories I shine, Nor grieve any more by my sins The bosom on which I recline. Oh then shall the veil be removed, And round me thy brightness be poured I'll meet him, whom absent I loved — I'll see, whom unseen I adored. And then nevermore shall the fears, The trials, temptations and woes, 17 129 130 HEARING HOME. Which darken this valley of tears, Intrude on my blissful repose ; To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone ; Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to his throne. i0tne in tSlieto, REV. JOHN NEWTON. As when some weary trav'ller gains The height of some o'erlooking hill, His heart revives, if cross the plains He eyes his home, though distant still. While he surveys the much-lov'd spot, He slights the space that lies between ; His past fatigues are now forgot, Because his journey's end is seen. Thus when the Christian pilgrim views, By faith, his mansion in the skies, The sight his fainting strength renews And wings his speed to reach the prize. The thought of home his spirit cheers, No more he grieves for troubles past ; Nor any future trial fears, So he may safe arrive at last. 131 132 HEARING HOME. 'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell With- Jesus, in the realms of day; Then I shall bid my cares farewell, And he will wipe my tears away. Jesus, on thee our hope depends, To lead us on to thine abode : Assur'd our homo will make amends For all our toil while on the road. teWntttj Uitnt. JAMES MONTGOMERY. Zecliariah xiv. 7. At evening time let there be light: — Life's little clay draws near its close ; Around me fall the shades of night, The night of death, the grave's repose; To crown my joys, to end my woes, At evening time let there be light. At evening time let there be light : — •Stormy and dark hath been my day ; Yet rose the morn benignly bright, Dews, birds and flowers cheer'd all the way; Oh for one sweet, one parting ray! At evening time let there be light. At evening time there shall be light : — For God hath said, "So let it be !" Fear, doubt, and anguish take their flight ; His glory now is risen on me ; Mine eyes shall his salvation see : 'Tis evening time, and there is light. 133 Susbanb to Wife, ON ATTAINING A HALF CENTURY. JOHN M. LOWRIE. D. D, I eemember, you remember, the days when first we met: Those cheerful, pleasant hours of youth we never can forget ; And this our happiness was then, our happiness is now, — No purer source of joy and peace is given man to know, — That far above all earthly thoughts we had a common Friend, A glorious Friend, around whose throne the hosts of heaven bend, Yet dwells on earth the meek to bless, the humble to renew ; We knew each other better then, because we knew him too. 134 HUSBAND TO WIFE. 135 I remember, you remember, how then we loved to trace, With thankful hearts, yet now as then, the leadings of his grace; For what were we that wrath should stay our guilty souls to spare ? Or why should we in grace so rich obtain the mean- est share ? And now, we trust with firmer faith, we bow around his seat, As then to seek his guardian hand to guide our erring feet ; For still, as then, we walk by faith, observing his command, And fall or falter save as he still holds us by the hand. I remember, you remember, in days of gloom and grief, We've shared their pains when we could find in him alone relief; We knew they came at his command, we learned to bless him still, To bow before his sovereign hand, submissive to his will : And this upheld us many times when flesh and heart grew faint — The cross and Calvary are still the strength of every saint — 136 NEABING HOME. That lie was called this path to tread, this bitter cup to drink ; Should we not taste the griefs from which our Saviour did not shrink ? I remember, you remember, how little then we thought Of anxious cares, dejecting fears, these later years have brought ; Though we had heard the world was cold — and thought we knew it too — Yet sad experience impressed the lessons all anew ; But when our busy memory would the varied past recall, With few regrets our thankful hearts would now re- view them all ; For ours has been a happy life, for every toil repaid, " An hundred fold e'en in this life" — the Master's lips have said. And we have learned, have fully learned, that all the toil and strife Of these our changing years were but the discipline of life; When friends that promised fair have changed to coldness and neglect, When flaming pious zeal has cooled and lost our warm respect, HUSBAND TO WIFE. 137 When hopes of good in youthful hearts have van- ished as the dew — Such disappointments, ever met, yet still seemed ever new — When death removed our best-tried friends to dwell before his face, While we, alas ! were left to mourn with none to fill their place : Then have we learned, full well have learned — not only on one leaf, But written clear on every page in plain and bold relief — That though our souls have often felt discouraged by the way, When rolling seas have tossed, or naught but deserts round us lay, That still was ours a chosen way — the pathway of our God — That wisdom chose out every grief, and mercy every rod; And not one day, to cheer us still, did manna fail to fall ; And every h