Page images
PDF
EPUB

once lifted up, reason rallied to her throne, and for a few minutes, like the dying Jacob, he sat up, called for his wife and children to come around him, when he gave to each a few words of lovemore precious than jewels-and sent special messages to absent children and friends. It was the sun breaking out between the evening clouds-clear, soft and beautiful. In a few moments he fell back, and the bright day-light was gone; and when the spirit again became conscious, she was in unclouded, everlasting day. When the hour of dismissal came, the angel of death walked the room so softly that his steps were not heard. Like David of old, "he fell on sleep," as on a pillow, and the only difference to him between sleep and death was, that in the one case the bosom barely heaved, and in the other it was still, and the prophesy was fulfilled: "Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season!" and the great prayer of the Redeemer was answered: "Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory."

And now, brethren and friends, my task is done. I am not vain enough to feel that I am worthy to speak at the burial of such a man; but the providence of God laid the duty upon me. I am not looking to what I have said to make the desired impression, but to the life, the death, the burial, of the beautiful character that God hath sent to live and die among us. We feel honored in having his dust laid here to awake with us at the resurrection day.

The widow who has been his helper, and whom he loved and honored so highly for more than fifty years, will mourn in loneliBut she will feel that she has been honored of the Lord in being associated with him in a life so useful, and that every closing day brings them nearer together. May she find the full and explicit promises made to the widow, to be all fulfilled to her. They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths "they will not be long divided."

The children who follow their honored father to the grave today, have a very high honor-that of calling him father! Very seldom do a family of children bury a father so aged, so widely known, and so universally honored-leaving no one deed of a long life over which they want to cast a mantle. That name and that character is an inheritance more precious than gold. May his prayers cover the heads of his children, and his children's children, to the end of time.

The ministers of Christ who gather to bury this father in the ministry, stand in awe, and feel that they are far behind him in labors and goodness, and cry: "Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth, and the faithful fail from among the children of men."

The whole community come together, praying that his mantle may fall on the ministers who are left, and feeling that the prayers

of this good man helped to spread the wing of God over the whole region, are ready to cry: "My father! my father! the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof."

Dear, good old man! we loved thee in life! we honor thee in death! We shall miss thee here! we will imitate and follow thee, till we meet thee in heaven! And let all the people say, AMEN!

[blocks in formation]

BY REV. W. H. CORNING,

PASTOR OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, WHITEHALL, NEW-YORK.

LONGING FOR SUNSET.

"As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his work: so am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed unto me."-JOB 7: 2, 3.

IN an illustrated edition of the book of Job, great vividness is given to this scripture by a picture of a slave, earnestly looking to the western sky, and longing for the evening shadow. The artist has succeeded in embodying the idea of the passage in a sketch for the eye, so that you see before you the over-worked and wearied laborer, looking anxiously for the expected signal of rest from his daily toil. By a happy stroke, condensing into a single phrase the entire passage, he has named his picture "Longing for Sunset."

And when I looked upon it I was most intensely impressed with a realization of that sad experience in the human soul which is imaged in the text. Tracing it, in the life-like lines of the graver, as it took visible shape before me, I felt that it had practical connections with human lives, of such importance as to make it a useful theme for thought before any congregation of worldworn and world-wearied men. Not for himself alone, but for a great multitude, did Job speak when he said: "As a servant earnestly desireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for a reward of his work, so am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed unto me." Our subject, thus

brought before us, is "Longing for Sunset."

Let me, first of all, set before you the different forms of that experience, in which the soul "earnestly desireth the shadow," or the coming on of the night of death.

The natural instinct of men is to desire to live. In all the ordinary moods of mind there is a shrinking back from the grim shadow of the grave. "Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is to behold the sun." The work of life and its rewards have a charm even too attractive to the heart of man. As you pass around among your fellow-creatures, it is only here and there that you see written out upon the bowed head, and sad countenance, and wearied step, the words: "I could wish to die." Upon the whole expression of the living multitude, in the swift, gladsome tread, the uplifted brow, the self-satisfied look, the eager bargain, the jocund laugh, the strong shake of the hand, you read the words: "It is good, oh! very good, to live." And yet I suspect that there are very few who have not, in some moment of disappointment or trial, had the wish to die rise almost to the lips. This life-sun, which shines so brightly, will sometimes sail, for a brief instant, into the shadows. Yet these feelings are evanescent, and only distantly related to that sadder experience which longs for sunset. This is a settled habit or mood of the soul. In naming the different forms of this experience, we may mention

First of all, that which arises out of painful and exhausting sickness. This was that which led Job to utter the words of the text, and long so earnestly for death. Months of bitterness and wearisome nights had worn away his instinct of life. The grave seemed to him a desirable refuge from his distresses. Thus of the grave he says: "There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary are at rest; there the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and the great are there, and the servant is free from his master. Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul? Which long for death, and it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures. Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave." And again, in connection with our text: "My soul chooseth death rather than life. I loathe, it; I would not live always. Let me alone, for my days are vanity."

Many a poor, wasted, wearied sufferer, as he lay upon his bed of languishing, has felt with Job in his distress. The grave seems inviting as the end of pain and unrest. They can not but pray to God for the coming on of death, "earnestly desiring the shadow." Thus have I seen those who, while in health, loved life very much, "longing for sunset."

2. When the infirmities of old age creep on, and life continues after the loss of nearly all the friends in which it was passed, it is not uncommon that the soul turns with yearning towards the end of this earthly course. The future life appears much brighter from its contrast with the infirmities of the present. The silver cord seems but an iron chain, and the golden bowl to be only

leaden. Sometimes life is desired even into very old age, that the heart may behold the accomplishment of a prayed-for good; and when that comes, the grave is welcomed. Such seems to have been the experience of Jacob, when he said to Joseph: "Now let me die, since I have seen thy face, because thou art yet alive." And of good Simeon, when he beheld the infant Jesus, and prayed: "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

3. I have seen those, under the shadow of a mighty sorrow from God, longing for sunset. Their earthly home was desolate, and they longed to pass into the heavenly. So, too, very often worldly disappointments have almost crazed the agonized spirit, and sometimes even have pressed it so hard in those where moral principle erected but a slight barrier, as to lead to suicide itself. So we all know how to sympathize with those struggling souls, who feel the iron of oppression and pine in dungeons, with nothing to hope for but the deliverance of the grave. Thus earthly sorrow in its many forms makes the human instinct of life to yield before it, and even turns it into a prayer for death.

4. The baffled and disappointed hero of the Church, after a long conflict with wickedness, often yearns for the end of his course. Thus the grand old prophet Elijah, upon Carmel, would gladly have anticipated the chariot of fire with its horses of fire. Thus, with what a melancholy grandeur do we hear the great Martin Luther, at the close of his life, finding it impossible to mold every thing to his will, sorely disappointed at results, passionately and almost petulantly praying to die. We are told that, at one time, "after detailing all his sufferings to Melancthon," he said: "Please God to take my soul in the peace of Christ; by the grace of God I am ready to go, yea, desirous. I have lived and have finished the course marked out for me by God. Oh! may my soul, which is weary of its long pilgrimage, now be suffered to mount to hea ven." He seemed absolutely overborne, like the prophet before him, with the increasing sin of the world; and at one time, after a long account in detail of the prevailing corruption, he concludes: "All that is left for us to do, is to reiterate the prayer: "Thy will be done."" And so, at another time, he says: "I would that my adversaries would put an end to me, for my death now would be of more service to the Church than my life." Alas! noble hero of the cross! like Elijah before thee, thy spirit is overwhelmed. Thy prayer shall be answered, and thy discouraged heart shall be taken to a higher point of vision, where thou shalt see the victory coming on, even to the mount of God. Very much like this state of feeling must have been that of the Psalmist when he cried out: "Oh! that I had the wings of a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest."

5. Thus far, we have mentioned forms of experience, all of

which have their root in a loathing or weariness of life. We now mention one which differs from all these, and is perfectly harmonious with a deep love and joy in life. It is that high Christian experience which, while it finds great delight in working for God upon earth, yearns also for a full communion with him in heaven. It has no disgust of a life of Christian toil and duty, and yet it reaches after "the inheritance of the saints in life." It is not only willing to remain, but is even happy in all the cares of its mission below, and yet it would fain participate in the clearer vision of the Lamb above. Paul expressed this feeling, when he said: "I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you." "Yet what I shall choose I wot not." Perhaps this experience should be called a longing for sunrising rather than for sunset. Still there is a positive desire for the close of this life and the dawning of the celestial. Even the joy in earthly labor shades away in cases of this experience, first into a willingness clearly conceived and expressed to tarry if the Lord will, and then again into a willingness unexpressed and only implied. This last is found in the cry of the Psalmist to the throne, in which we discover a toning down of the strictly defined position of the Apostle; the heart of the sweet singer of Israel being occupied wholly with the longing for God. "My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God?" Thus often the Christian, while he is ready to keep at the work to which his Master has called him, yearns after the perfected glories of heaven. Sometimes he longs for it so much as to be almost, if not altogether, unwilling to live longer.

II. Such in its different forms is the experience in which the human soul "earnestly desireth the shadow." Is it healthy and desirable in any of its forms? We have seen that there are really but two kinds of this experience, that which roots itself in a disgust of life, and that which is inspired by a clear realization of the celestial glories.

This last is certainly both healthy and desirable. It shows great vigor of Christian character. It is both the flower and fruit of an earnest life with God. It brings a joy into the soul through communion with the upper world, which gives intensity to all Christian action. It interferes in no degree with a devoted energy in the path of duty. It only increases the vital power of the saint in all the service he attempts. Those that long after God are those that work the hardest for him, that they may be the nearest like him. It gives wings to his faith. It buoys up, and even lifts the Christian into the very hights of duty. It is possible, indeed, that such an ecstasy of mind may arise in the soul, if

« PreviousContinue »