August 14

I know that thou wilt bring me to death. - Job 30:23.

LET us contemplate the happiness or the misery of this knowledge. What a source of misery must this knowledge be to a man who is a sinner! If it be not, it ought to be. But it commonly is, and much more commonly than those who feel it are willing to allow. In several of Voltaire’s letters to his private friends, this expression frequently occurs:-“I hate life, and I dread death.” Why, the only concern of thousands of our fellow-creatures is to banish the thought of it from their minds; for the remembrance of it, like the handwriting on the wall, is enough to turn the pleasures of the feast into horror and anguish. Inspiration itself calls death “the king of terrors.” What view can be taken of it that can be agreeable and inviting, that must not be repulsive and terrible, to an unpardoned, unrenewed sinner?

If he desires it, the Scripture meets him with the question, “For what do you desire the day of the Lord? The day of the Lord to you is darkness, and not light.” Those who say it is better for them to die than to live are perfectly mistaken; for, whatever be their present hardships, and privations, and sorrows, and trials, these are only “the beginnings of sorrows,” these are only the harbingers of misery,-the first words in the roll which is “written within and without with lamentation and mourning and woe.”

We have heard of the afflictions of Job, and that a number of messengers arrived one after the other, and the last was always worse than the preceding; and what a sad story is the summing up of the whole! “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither,” said the patriarch: and we may apply this to a dying sinner. Oh, how many messengers may we suppose coming to him. One comes and says to him, You must resign all your offices and employments, however honourable or beneficial they may be, and have nothing more to do with any of the concerns below the sun. While he is yet speaking, another comes and says, You must be stripped of all your possessions,- your houses, your lands, your silver, and your gold. While he is yet speaking, another comes and says, You must resign all your recreations, all that ever charmed your imagination or delighted your senses; you must no more walk by the side of the murmuring brook; no more inhale the fragrance of the spring; no more behold the tints of autumn; no more be delighted by the singing of birds, or the converse of friends. While he is speaking, another comes and says, Your blood must be congealed and your body become a mass of loathsomeness; you must be laid in a corner of the earth, and be devoured by worms. While he is yet speaking, another comes and says, Your soul must enter the invisible world, and, in a new and untried condition, appear before the Judge of all!

We can easily imagine, therefore, what a source of misery this knowledge must be to a sinner. But let us turn the medal: let us see what a source of comfort it is to the Christian. If it be not, it ought to be, and continually too; for with regard to those who know the Saviour, the curse is turned into a blessing, and the enemy is converted into a friend. “The righteous hath hope in his death.” “Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace,”-peace in the issue, and commonly peace in the exit too. “To die,” says the apostle to the Philippians, “is gain.” Yes. “To depart and be with Christ is far better.”