Thoughts on Hearing a Funeral Bell Tolling

Gone! — gone! — gone!
And the bell toll’d solemnly slow;
Gone! — gone! — gone!
But is it to glory or woe?
Has the spirit found rest
On a Saviour’s breast,
Or gone with the damned below?
Gone! — gone! — gone
How that sound rings through the air!
Gone! — gone! — gone!
From it’s sheath of clay — but where?

Has it joined the song
Of the ransomed throng,
Or the wail of dark despair?
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
If saved by the blood, ‘tis well;
Gone! — gone! — gone!
The Redeemer’s praise to swell,
Who came from above,
In His wondrous love,
To save lost souls from hell.
Gone! — gone! — gone!
If Christless, how terrible!
Gone! — gone! ―gone!
‘Neath the wrath of God to dwell!
‘Neath the judgment dire
Of endless fire,
And woes no tongue can tell
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
Oh, sinner, had this been thee―
Gone! — gone! — gone!
Say, what would thy portion be?
To be singing the song
Of the blood-bought throng?
Or be wailing eternally?
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
Let the message speak home to thee―
Gone! ―gone! ―gone!
From God’s wrath and judgment flee;
No longer delay,
Trust Jesus today,
And be saved for eternity.

T.M.

The Diary of a Soul
By the Editor
A DEAR Christian, whom I visited the other day, said to me, I am so tired and weary, I do not know what to do, I am not fit for anything but to die.” “Well,” I said, “if you are fit to die, that’s everything”; and so it was in her case, ripening as she is for the glory day by day.
We are only fit to live when we are fit to die. We never do live unless Christ lives in us. To die daily is to live successfully.
I was talking about the New Theology to a dying saint. He looked up and said: “This New Theology makes me want to throw my aims around my Saviour.” His idea was to protect Christ against His traducers, and to show his love for Him as well. Shall we believe the apostles’ doctrine, or the doctrine of devils? The mystery of iniquity, or the mystery of godliness?