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No.
III.
By a Moralising Layman.
My Dear Readers,
When
I first commenced addressing you the language of my reflections upon our
moral condition; it was my intention to present these topics for your
consideration more frequently; but circumstances have interposed,
precluding the fulfilment of this contemplation; and I can only promise to
appear before you at such intervals as relaxation from other numerous
engagements may afford the opportunity. It is to me, however, a labour of
love, and I shall omit no occasion to prosecute the task.
The
text which I have selected as the subject of my remarks in this number,
you will find in the following words:
“What
man liveth that will not see death?”—Psalm 89:48.
It
is doubtful whether any theme could be selected better adapted to claim at
once your undivided attention and most serious reflection, than the
uncertainty of life and the certainty of death. There are none of us who
can look forward to the termination of our earthly career, without some
feelings of apprehension, without some misgivings of conscience, “for
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave
whither thou goest.” It is a feeling inherent in our nature, doubtless
implanted by the inscrutable wisdom of God, that we might know and truly
feel the responsibilities of our life and its collateral duties. I need
not say unto you, that no event, yet undeveloped, is more certain to
follow than the melancholy truth, that of those who, at this moment in the
fulness of vigorous health, are engaged in the perusal of this page, one
from amongst their number, ere a year shall have closed, will be taken
away, and consigned to the cold grave, “even to the land of darkness and
the shadow of death.” It is sure to happen to one of us; and who shall
claim the individual exemption? “Does not the thought speak
trumpet-tongued to us, that we should “set our house in order;” that
we may make our souls strong in faith, and be prepared to die? Reflect, my
dear readers, how suddenly you may be called into the presence of an offended God, before whose tribunal the extenuations of mortality
find no entrance! Have you quite abandoned all those sins, so common to
our nature, which have been registered in heaven, until the page of your
existence is darkened with the record? Have you cast aside iniquity,
transgression, and sin; purged your heart free from pride, deceit, and
envy, and, with a soul cleansed from pollution, prepared yourselves for
admission to eternity? If you are not so prepared, you are not fit to die,
and thus the great blow may fall upon you with the heaviness of your
guilt, weighing your soul down to destruction.
With
these reflections ever present to your, mind, what duty so closely demands
instant attention as the work of preparation for death? You dare not
procrastinate; for what moment can you call as certainly yours? and
to-morrow, in the agonies of death, you may learn that bitter lesson, that
repentance may come too late. What reflection more appalling than a death
bed
thus surrounded by horrors; the termination of life shrouded in agony and
misery! And why should we thus purchase affliction, when, by a life of
purity and virtue, by the practice of obedience to the word of God, we can
render our last moments the richest in glorious contemplation of all that
have preceded them? But it must be by a life of virtuous piety that
we can look forward to the hour of death with resignation, ay, with hope,
that it will translate us to a better and happier existence. The poor
offering which some of us bring of a single day, dedicated to the
expiation of our sins, will barely compensate the offended majesty of
disregarded laws, commandments disobeyed and broken. It were an easy task
to reach the eternal bliss of heaven, if such devotion could attain it;
but we do but deceive ourselves, if we are content with such a belief. The
holiness of a single day will not suffice for the transgressions of every
other in the year; and the tears of repentance, though shed in fervid
poignancy, will hardly wash clean the long record of our sins. The
offering which we render will be accounted to us for righteousness, but is
the tribute commensurate with the debt? Do not stifle your consciences
with a false belief, when your judgment gives you a better assurance of
truth.
It
is not my wish to draw a gloomy picture of our condition, or our
prospects, but it is my simple aim to reach the heart, by speaking
language, so truthful, as at once to be admitted. The use of any other
terms would completely overthrow the very end of my design. The hope,
therefore, burns strongly within me, that something tht I have said will
awaken you to a serious contemplation of this subject.
And
this thought of death how it chills the sense!
“How
beautiful a world were ours,
But for the pale and shadowy one
That treadeth on its pleasant hours,
And stalketh in its sun.”
We
need not that emperor’s decree that bound the living prisoner to the
corpse of the dead convict; for who that hath passed childhood’s years
that carries not the image of a dear one dead, yet ever present to the
living thought? But let us not descend to the grave to contemplate the
form that once was dear; for there we shall find nought but lifeless,
perishable flesh, mouldering in its own corruption; but to the stars and
the bright skies our souls shall travel with an unfettered spirit, in
unfettered thought. And it is sweet to believe
“The
souls of those we love
In darkness oft around us move,”
invisibly
watching over us, as the good spirits which avert the impending dangers
that threaten us with evil. Such contemplations elevate us nearer unto
heaven.
Take
these reflections deeply to heart; and if within your breasts there lives a
hope aspiring to those empyrean heights, on whose verge, amidst peace and
purity, your immortal souls would seek to dwell, amidst joys enduring for
eternity, let your soul be so ruled in its inclinations that every
aspiration that it breathes may bring you nearer to such a rest.
D.
Nissan,
5606.
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