TIIE LAPSE OF TIME.
OLOMON'S advice that we should do whatever our hand findeth fo do with our miht, natura]ly directs out thoughts to that great work in which ail othcrs are included, which will outlive all other works, and for which alone we really are placed here below—the salvation of our souls. And the considerafion of this great worl¢, which must be done with ail our might, and coinpleted before the grave, whither we go, presents itself fo out minds with especial force af the commencement of a mw)'car. We are now entcring on a fresh stage of out lifc's journey; we know well how if will end, and we see where we shall stop in the evening, though we do hot see the road. And we know in what our business lies while we travel, and that if is important for us fo doit with our "might; for there is no work, nor device, nor [¥II] B knowledge, nor wisdom, in ihe grave. ' This is so plain, that nothing need be said in order fo convince us that itis true. We know it wcll; the very complaint which nmnbers commolfly make vhcn told of it, is that they know it already, that itis nothing new, that thcy have no need o be told, and that itis tiresolne to hear the same thing said over and over again, and impertinent in the person who repeats it. Yes; thus if is that sinncrs silcnce their conscience, by quarrelling 'ith those who appeal toit; thcy defend themselves, if it may be called a defcnce, by pleading that they already know what they should do and do not that they know pert'ectly well that thcy are living ata distance from God, and are in peril of eternal ruin; that they l(now they are making themselves children of Satan, and denying the Lord that bought them, and want no one to tell them so. Thus they witness against then» selves. However, though we already know well enough that we have much to do before we die, yet (if we will but attend) it may be of use to hear the fact dwelt upon; because by thinking over it steadily and seriously, we may possibly, th'ough God's grace, gain some deep conviction of it; whereas while we keep to general terms, and confess that this lire is important and is short, in the nlere summary way in which men commonly confess it, we have, properly sl)eaking, no knowledge of that great truth at all.
The LaiSse of Timc.
Consider, then, what if is te die; "" thcre is no work, device, knowlcdge, or wisdoln, in the grave." Death purs an end absolutely and irrevocably te all out plans and works, and if is inevitable. The Psahnist speaks te " high and low, rich and poor, one with another." "No man tan deliver his brotler, ner makc agreement unto God for him." Even "' wise mendie, as well as the ig'norant and foolish, aud leave their rieles for otherl. '' l)ittieult as we may flnd if te bring if lmme te ourselvcs, te realize if, yet as surcly as we are here assemhled togetlwr, se surely will every che of us, sooner or later, one by che, be stretehed on the bed of death. We naturally shrink ri'cm the thouglt of death, and of ifs attendmt eireumstanees; but all that is hatefll and fearful about if will be fultilled in otlr case, Che by one. But all this is nothing" compared with the eonsequenees implicd in it. ])eath stops us; if stops out race. Ien are engaged about their work, or about tleir pleasure; tlwy are in the city, or the field; any how they are stopped; fleir deeds are suddenly gatlwred in—a rcckoning is made— all is sealed up till the g'reat day. What a elmnge is this! In the words used familiarly in speaking of the dead, they are no more. They were fill of sehemes aud 13rojeets; whether in a greater or humblcr rank, they had their hopes and fcars, their prospeets, their pnrsuits, their rivalries; all these are new corne te an end. One builds a house, and its roof is net finished; another 1 Ps. xlix. 210.
4 T/e L«.psc of Time. buys merehandise, and itis hot yet sold. And all their virtues and pleasing qualifies whieh endeared them fo their fi-iends are, as far as this world is eoneerned, vanished. Vhere are they who were so active, so" sang'uine, so g'enerous? the amiable, the modest, and the kind? Ve were told that they were dead; they suddenly disappcared; that is all we know about Thcy werc silently t.',ken from us they are not met in the seat of the elders, nor in the asscmblies of the peoplc; in the mixed concoursc of men, nor in the dolncstic retirement which they prized. As Scripturc dcseribcs it, "the wind has passed ovcr them, and they arc gone, and their place shall know lhem no more." And they have burst the many ries which held thcm; they were parents, brothers, sisters, children, and friends; but the bond of kindred is br«,ken, and the silver cord of love is loosed. They have bcen followed bv the vehclnent gricf of tcars, and the long sorrow of aching hearts; but they make no rcturn, they answer hot they do hot even satisfv our wish to know that thcy sorrow for us as we for them. We talk about theln thenceforth as if thev werc persons we do not know; wc talk about them as third persons; whereas they used fo be always with us, and every other thought which was within us was slmred by them. Or pcrhaps, if our grief is too deep, we do hot mcntion their nalnes at all. And their possessions, too, all fi, ll to others. The world goes on without theml it forgets theln. Yes, soit is the world contrives to forger that men havc souls, if looks upon them all as mêre parts of some grcat visible system. This coutinues fo movc on; fo this the world ascribes a sort of liti and pcrsonality. Whcn ont or othcr of its membcrs die, if considers them only as fidling" ont of the system, and as corne to nought. For a minute, perlmps, if thinks of them in sorrow, thcu lcaves them—leaves thcm fir evcr. It kecps ifs eyc «,n things seen and temporal. Truly whcnever a man dics, ri(.h or poor, an immortal soul )asses to judgmcnt; but somchov we read of the dcaths of 1)crsons we bave seen or heard of, and this reflcction never cornes across us. Thus does the world rcally cast off men's souls, and recognizing only their bodics, it makes it appear as if "tlmt whieh befitllcth the sons of men bcfidleth beasts, even one thing" befidleth them, as thc onc dieth so dieth the other; yea, they have ail ont breath, so tlmt a nlan bath no pre-eminence over a beast, for all is vanityt. '' But let us follow thc course of a soul thus casting" off the world, and east off by if. It g'oes forth as a stranffer on a journey. AIan seems to die and fo be no more, when he is but quitting" us, and is really begilming" fo lire. Then he sees sig.hts which before if did hot even enter into lais mind to conceive, and the world is even less to him tlmll he to the world. Just now he was lying on thê bed of sickness, but in that moment of Eccles. iii. 19.
6 Te Lase of Tiret. death what.an nwful ehang'e lins eome over him! Wha n erisis çor him There is stilhiess in the room thnL lntely held him; nothing is doing there, çor he is gone, he now belongs fo others; he now belongs entirely fo the Lord who bought him; fo Ilim he returns; but whether fo be lodged safely in IIis place of hope, or fo be imprisoned against the great Day, that is another malter, that depends ou the deeds doue in the body, whether ood or evil. And now what are his thoug'hts? How infinitely important now appears the value of rime, now when it is nothing fo him Nothing; fi,r though he spend eenturies waiting for Christ, he eannot now alter his state ri'oto bad fo good, or flore good fo bad. What he dieth that he must be for ever; as the tree falleth so must iL lie. This is the eomfort of the true servant of God, and the miseç, of the transgressor. IIis lot is east once and for all, and he eau but n'ait in hope or in dread. Men on their death-beds have deelared, that no one eould form a right idea of the value of rime $i]l he came fo die; but if this has truth in it, how mueh more truly eau if be said after death AVhat an estimate shall we form of rime while we are waiting for judgment Yes, it is we—all this, I repeat, belongs fo us mos intimately. If is hOt fo bc looked a as a pieture, as a man might read a light book in a leisure hour. 1I must die, the youngest, the healthiest, the most thoughtless; n,e must be thus unnaturally torn in two, soul from body; and only united again fo be ruade more thoroug'hly happy or to be miscrable for ever. Such is death eonsidered in ifs inevitable neeessity, and iCs uuspeakab]e importance—nor can we ensure fo ourselves any certain interval before ifs coming. The time may be long; but if may also be short. If is plain, a man may die any day; ail we eau say is, that if is unlikely that he will die. But of this, af least, we are certain, that, eome if sooner or latêr, dcath is eontinually on the move towards us. We are ever nearer and nearer to if. Evel T morning, we rise we are nearer that grave in which there is no work, nor device, than we were. We are now nearer the grave, than when we entered this Church. Thus life is ever crumbliug away under us. What should we say to a man, who was placed on some precipitous ground, whieh was ever crumbling under his feet, and affording less and less seeure footing, yet was eareless about it? Or what should we say to one who suffered some precious liquor fo run froln receptacle into the thoronghfare of men, without thoug'ht to stop if? who earelessly looked on and saw the waste of if, becoming greater and greater every minute? But what treasure can equal rime? If is the seed of eternity: yet we surfer ourselves to go on, year fter year, hardly nsing if af 211 in God's service, or thinking if enough fo give Him a most tithe or sevenfla of if, while we strenuously and heartily sow to the flesh, that from the flesh we may re,p corruption.
8 T/le Lapse of Ti1ze. We try lmw little we ean safely give fo religion, instead of la.ving tle gl'aee to gve abunda.ntly. « Pdvers of water run down mine e),es, beeause men keep hot Thy la.w;" so says the holy Psalmis. Doubtlêss an inspired prophe saw fir more elearly than we ean see, tl:e madness of men in squandering" tha. treasure upon sin, vhieh is mean o buy flwir elùef g'ood;—but if so, wha mus this madness appear in God's sight! Wha an inveerate nmlignan evil is i in the learts of the sons of men, t.ha thus leads them fo si down fo eat, and drink, and rise up fo play, wlwn rime is hurrying" on and judg'men eoming'? We have been told wha thinks of man's unbelief, though we eanno enter into the depths of IIis flmughts. He showea ig fo us in aeg and deed, as far as we eould reeeive if, when He even sent His Only-begoten Son in/o the world as a this rime, o redeem us from the world,—whieh, mos surely, was no lig'htly done; and we also learn His t.houghts abou i from the words of ha mos mereiful Son,—wlieh mos surely were no lig'htly spoken, "The wieked," He says, " shall go into eveflasting punishmeng." Oh tha there were sueh a hear in us tha we would fear Goal and keep His eommandments always! ig is of no use to speak; men know their duty—they will no do it. They aay hey do no need or wish to be old i, tlm i is an inrusion, and a rudeness, to tell ghem of death and judgment. So musg who have to speak to them, must submit fo this. Speak we must, as an act of duty to God, whetber flwy vi]l hcar, or hot, and tbcn must leave our words as a witness. Othcr means tbr rousing them we have nonc. We speak ff'oto Christ our gracious Lord, tbeir edcemcr, w]m bas already pardoncd them frcely, yct they will hot fi,llow Hiln with a truc heart; and whatc:m bc donc more? Another year is now opening Ul)On us; it sleaks fo the thoughtfid, and is heard by thosê, vho bave expecfaut ears, aud watch for Christ's eoming. The firmer year is gone, if is dead, t]mre it lies in the grave of pst rime, hot fo decay however, and be forgotten, but kept in view of God's omniscienee, with all its sins and errors irrevoeably written, till, af lengtb, it will be raised again to testify about us at the last day; and who anaong us ean bear the thought of his own doing's, in the course of if?—all that he has said and done, all that lins been eoneeived within his mind, or been acted on, and all that he has hot said aud donc, wlfieh if was duIy fo say or do. What a dreary prospect seems fo be belote us, when we refleet that we have the solemn word of truth pledged fo us, in flic last and most awthl revelation, whieb God lins ruade fo us about the future, that in that day, the books will be opened, "'and anothcr book opened, whieh is the book of lift,, and the dead judged out of those tbings whieh were written in the books aeeording" to their works'!" Vhat would a man give, any one of us, who has any rem insight into his polluted and miserable state, what would he give fo tear away some of the leaves there preserved! For how heinous are the sins therein written! Think of the nmltitude of sins donc by us since we first knew the difft, rence between rig'ht and wrong. We bave fi)rgotten them, but there we mig'ht read them elearly recorded. Vell may holy David exelaim, "Remenaber hot the sins of my youth uor my transgressions, according" to Thy mercy remember Thou me." Coneeive, too, the multitude of sins which have so grown iuto us as fo beeome part of us, and in which we now lire, hot knowing, or but partially knowing, that they are sins; habits of pride, selç-reliance, self-eoneeit, sullenuess, impurity, sloth, selfishness, wofldliness. The history of all these, their beginnings, and their g'rowth, is reeorded in those dreadful books; and when we look forward fo the future, how lnany sins shall we have eommitted by this rime next year,—though we try ever so much fo know our dut.3-, and overeome ourselres! Nay, or rather shall we have the opportunity of obeying" or disobeying" God for a year longer? Who knows whether by that rime our aceount may hot be elosed for ever? "Remember me, O Lord, when Thou comest into Thy king'doln ." Such was the prayer of the penitent thief on fhe cross, sueh must be out prayer. Who ean do us any good, but He, who shall also be our Judge.'?
When shoekig thoughts about, ourselves corne aeross us and afflict us, " Remember me," tlais is all we have fo say. We have " no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom" of our own, fo better ourselves withal. We tan say nothin fo (lod in defence of ourselves,— we can but acknowledge that wc are grievous sinners, and addressing" IIim as suppliants, merely bcg lIim fo bear us in mind in mercy, ftr IIis Son's sake fo do us some fivour, hot according o our deserts, but for the love of Christ. The more we try fo serve Him here, the better; but aftcr ail, so far do we fall short of what we should bc, that if we had but what we are in ourselves fo rely upon, wretched are ve,—and we are forced out of ourselves by the very necessity et" out condition. To whom should we go? Who ean do us any good, but I[e who was born into this world for our regeneration, was bruised for our iniquities, and rose again for our justification? Even though we have served ttim ri-oto our youth up, though after His lattern we lmve grown, as far as mere man can grow, in wisdom as we grew in stature, though we ever have had tender hearts, and a naooEified will, and a eonscientious retaper, and an obeclient spirit; yet, af the very best, how much bave we left undone, how much donc, which ought fo be otherwise! What tte eau do fir our nature, in the way of sanctit'ying if, we know indeed in a rneasure; we kno5 in the case of His saints; and we certainly do hOt know the limit of Itis carrying forward in those objects of
His special favour the work of purification, and renewal through His Spirit. Bnt for ourselves, we know full well that much as we may have attempted, we have donc very littlc, that our very best service is nothing worth,—and thc more wc aftcmpt, the more clcarly we shall sec how little wc have hitherto attcmpted. Those whom Christ saves are they who at once attcmpt to savc thcmsclvcs, yet dcspair of saving" themsclvcs; who aire to do all, and confcss they do nought; who arc all love, and all fcar; vho are the most holy, and yct coafess thcmsclves the most sinful; who ever sccl( fo please IIim, yct fcel they never can; who are thll of good works, 3"ct of works of penance. All this seems a contradiction to the latural man, but it is hot so to those whom Christ cnlightens. They understand in proportion fo their illumination, that it is possible to work out their salvation,:)'et to have if wrought out for them, to fear and trcmble at the thought of judgment, yet to rejoice always in the Lord, and hope and pray for His eolning.