"------frantic soul Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, Flies to each avenue, and cries for help-- But cries in vain;------"
conscious that he is the enemy of G.o.d, the abhorrence of saints; the confederate, and will soon become the companion, of evil spirits; the dying Christian looks beyond the confines of mortality into the eternal world, without one sensation but that "of a desire to depart and to be with Christ." In quitting the present world, he expects a transition from sorrow to joy--from the region of shadows to that of realities--from the habitations of sin to the abodes of purity. Embracing Jesus by faith, he exclaims with Simeon, "Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation;" or with Paul, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me in that day."
It is pleasing to see the youthful mind impressed with the concerns of religion, devoting its powers to the Saviour, and despising the solicitations of sinful pleasure; but ah! how many cloudless mornings are succeeded by gloomy days--how many false and fruitless blossoms adorn the smiling spring--how many seeds spring up, but perish because they have "no depth of earth!" Early piety, therefore, however gratifying, cannot be contemplated without anxiety, if not suspicion; the force of temptation has not yet been endured--the world has not half exhausted its quiver of poisoned arrows--Satan has not yet tried all his arts and machinations--the race is not yet run!--but in those who, like Zacharias and Elizabeth, are "well striken in years," we witness the stability of principle, the triumph of perseverance, and the reign of grace. Dear and venerable companions in the ways of G.o.d, ye have borne the burden and heat of the day! Like a shock of corn, ye shall soon be "gathered in your season;" ye shall soon drop the infirmities of humanity, and be clothed in the robes of light! "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."
The brief, but comprehensive notice of these venerable saints, in the commencement of the Gospel according to Luke, exhibits at once the characteristic features of their piety.
1. It was of a quality approved by G.o.d himself: for they are represented as "righteous _before G.o.d_," that is, in the divine estimation. It is this only which can determine our genuine character; for, however "outwardly virtuous _before men_," the internal spirit and character may be marked by moral deformities which the eye of Omniscience cannot but view with detestation. The most eminent Christians, indeed, are aware that perfection in righteousness is not attainable in the present state, and that when "weighed in the balances," they are in many respects "found wanting:" but while they look for acceptance through the righteousness of Christ, instead of "going about to establish their own," they possess a rect.i.tude of _principle_, though the _degree_ of holiness be imperfect.
They are sincere, habitual in their aim to please G.o.d, cherishing a supreme attachment to his name and character, and determined in their resistance of every influence that would seduce them from his service or impel them to commit sin.
2. Elizabeth and her venerable partner regulated their conduct by divine authority, irrespective of the opinions of men. They are said to "have walked in the _commandments and ordinances of the Lord_." The Jews were accustomed to blend the traditions of the elders with their religious services; but these believers consulted and obeyed the oracles of Heaven.
They repaired at once to the spring-head of wisdom, deriving their faith and obtaining direction with regard to their practice from Him who alone possesses the authority of a master.
This was a very decisive evidence of their religion, and is a test which is capable of being applied to every case and to every sphere of life. If the only certain evidence of true piety consisted in becoming martyrs, few could have an opportunity of evincing it, through not being called to this high and holy service; or, if the test were the distribution of ample charities, or self-devotement to the labour of the Christian ministry, the poor, and the ungifted, and ineloquent, would be excluded from the prescribed means of testifying their love to G.o.d: but obedience to his commands may be practised in the humblest circ.u.mstances, in the lowliest station, and by the most obscure individual. Any where and every where it is possible "to take up our cross," to "deny ourselves," to "mortify the flesh," to "walk in the Spirit."
3. The obedience of Elizabeth and Zacharias was universal--not partial or restricted; for they "walked in _all_ the commandments and ordinances of the Lord."
An insincere profession will be distinguished by partiality in its observances. It will practise some duties and reject others, believe some doctrines and hesitate to admit others. Influenced by many subordinate considerations, it will select those requirements which are most easily performed, most calculated to attract public attention, or most conformable to natural prepossessions. It will dispense with some things as difficult, and with others as unnecessary or unimportant. "Then,"
exclaimed the Psalmist, "shall I not be ashamed when I have respect unto _all_ thy commandments."
4. Elizabeth and her aged companion were distinguished also for a piety which was _blameless_. It is possible to merit blame even in our very acts of religious obedience. How seldom do we attain that purity of _motive_, that unostentatious simplicity of _manner_, that _uniformity_ of conduct, which const.i.tute a _blameless_ piety! In this respect we have daily reason, at the footstool of mercy, to deplore our deficiency, our lanquor, our lukewarmness of spirit, our unprofitableness and vileness. "If thou, Lord, wert strict to mark iniquity, O Lord, who could stand?" There is not a prayer we utter but would be rejected, were it not for the prevalence of the Redeemer"s intercession, nor a service we perform, but is so defiled with guilt that it would be an abominable offering, but for the efficacy of that blood which "cleanseth us from all sin." Nor, indeed, was the piety of Zacharias and Elizabeth in itself "_blameless_," irrespective of this atonement; nor were they "_righteous_," but as accepted and justified "through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." To a lively faith they, however, united a holy conversation, and an habitual obedience: their life was a perpetual sacrifice to G.o.d, and diffused around a sweet savour of piety.
Let us contemplate the _happiness of such a life_. It is common to represent religion as incompatible with true enjoyment, and to describe those who are under its influence as gloomy fanatics, dragging out a miserable existence--the dupes of prejudice and the slaves of melancholy.
If a perpetual sense of the divine presence, a well-founded confidence of pardoned sin, free access to the throne of mercy, abundant communications of spiritual good and lively antic.i.p.ations of a felicity beyond the grave, commensurate with the capacities of an immortal spirit, and with the everlasting ages of eternity; if these produce wretchedness, then, and in no other case, is religion a source of misery. Be not deceived; such allegations result from ignorance and depravity. Zacharias and Elizabeth, joined together by the dear bonds of mutual affection, and the still dearer ties of grace, present a picture of happiness unrivalled in the gay and thoughtless world. We appeal to them, and to those who resemble them, as "epistles" of G.o.d, that teach the efficacy of genuine religion. Read them, ye profane, and blush for your impieties! Read them, ye sons and daughters of strife, and banish discord from your houses! Read them, ye fearful, hesitating, lukewarm professors, and learn to walk in "_all_ the commandments and ordinances of the Lord!" Read them, ye worldly wise, ye ambitious, ye "lovers of pleasure," and confess ye have mistaken the true means to happiness, and have "forsaken your own mercies!"
It is a supereminent excellence of the religion of Jesus, that "the peace and joy in believing" which it inspires do not depend on external circ.u.mstances. As no worldly condition can _create_, so neither can it _destroy_ the Christian"s felicity; it is firm and immoveable amidst the changes and revolutions of human affairs--in the bright or cloudy day.
Like the mariner"s compa.s.s, which continually points in the same direction amidst changing seasons and varying climes, the most extraordinary vicissitudes of the "present evil world," cannot "move" the mind of a believer from the "hope of the Gospel."
Reflect further, on the _effect which such a life is calculated to produce on others_.
A holy life is a powerful argument for the "truth as it is in Jesus;" and that suspicious eagerness with which the wicked watch the conduct of professors, that patient malignity with which they wait for their halting, and that Satanic joy with which they exult over their misconduct, prove their own convictions of the strength of such an argument. Let us then be concerned to falsify their predictions and disappoint their enmity by "walking in _all_ the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless."
Consider the impressive appeal of the apostle: "Only let your conversation be as becometh the gospel of Christ." Shine, ye professing Christians, for "ye are the lights of the world"--shine with a holy and steady radiance in the church of G.o.d, and pray for daily supplies of the oil of grace, that your light may not degenerate into a feeble glimmering or totally expire; otherwise you may become accessary to the fall and ruin of others, and "their blood may be upon _you!_" Such a pious union, such holy friendship as that of Elizabeth and Zacharias, will be _perpetuated through infinite ages_. It is not a transient but an everlasting union; it shall survive the grave and defy the stroke of mortality. They who "sleep in Jesus" will G.o.d bring with him. The sepulchre, to such as die in the faith of Christ and in a state of holy friendship with each other, only resembles a vast prison, in which dearest friends are separated only for a time in different cells, and from which they shall be released when the gloomy keeper resigns his keys, when "death is swallowed up in victory." Those humble and affectionate disciples who have "walked together in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, here, shall take sweet counsel above, and walk together in the fields of immortality." In a n.o.bler sense than the original application of the words, it may be said of all Christian friends, "they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths they were not divided."
This perpetuation of Christian society and love, is intimated in the most striking manner by our Redeemer when on the point of departure from his disciples, whom he called his "_friends_." "I will not henceforth drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father"s kingdom." Who can describe the joys of that "marriage-feast," the felicities of that endeared spiritual and eternal intercourse, that union of hearts, that concourse of affections, that flow and mingling of souls!
These are some of "the mysteries of G.o.dliness"--this is what "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive."
Let these glorious expectations revive our failing courage amidst the conflicts of life. Let us not despair, though we may weep over the companions of our pilgrimage, slain at our side by the irresistible stroke of death. The separation is transitory--the reunion will be eternal. "But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will G.o.d bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive, and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of G.o.d: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words."
Such as are opposite in character to Zacharias and Elizabeth, and who are "walking in _none_ of the commandments and ordinances of the Lord," should reflect on the misery of their condition, as utterly dest.i.tute of all those hopes and privileges which have been described. Who inst.i.tuted these ordinances?--who gave these commandments?--whose authority is it you dare despise?--or who has released you from your obligations to this authority?--what madness induces you to fly in the face of G.o.d--to measure your power against the sword of Omnipotence? O, remember--"the wages of sin is death!"
Anna.
Chapter III.
Introduction of Anna into the sacred Story--inspired Description of her--the aged apt to be unduly attached to Life--Anna probably Religious at an early Period--Religion the most substantial Support amidst the Infirmities of Age--the most effectual Guard against its Vices--and the best Preparation for its End.
Two ill.u.s.trious women have already been presented to the reader as adorning the era of our Saviour"s incarnation; the one, the mother of his humanity, the witness of his miracles, and the weeping attendant upon his crucifixion; the other, her venerable relative, the wife of Zacharias, and the parent of John, who was the destined precursor of the "Desire of all nations." We are now to contemplate another female, whose age superadds a charm to her excellences, and whose privilege also it was to witness the commencing brightness of the evangelical day. Like Elizabeth, her "memorial" is short, but it does not "perish with her." She has a place in the chronicles of the redeemed, a name before which that of heroes and heroines fades away, and which it requires no "storied urn nor animated burst" to perpetuate.
Anna is introduced to our notice on the memorable occasion which has been already mentioned, when the parents of Jesus took him after his circ.u.mcision to Jerusalem, to "present him to the Lord." Then it was that Simeon broke forth in eloquent and prophetic congratulations, expressive at once of his own triumph over death, in consequence of having witnessed the accomplishment of those prophecies which had so long and so often filled him with delightful antic.i.p.ations, and of the "glory" which he foresaw would irradiate Israel and enlighten the Gentiles. Scarcely had he finished his address, when Anna, a prophetess, remarkable for her extreme age and exemplary piety, entered the temple, and not only united with Simeon and the rest of the interesting group in "giving thanks unto the Lord," but "spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem."
It was benefiting the majesty of the event which had occurred, that the spirit of prophecy should revive after being dormant for about four hundred years. Since the days of Malachi no such inspiration had been afforded; but the new and glorious period commencing with the incarnation was marked by this as well as other signs and wonders. When Simeon held the infant Saviour in his arms, the Spirit of G.o.d touched his tongue with a live coal from the altar; and when the aged "daughter of Phanuel"
approached, she caught the glow of kindling rapture, and blended with his her praises and predictions. This eminent woman is represented as "of a great age," as having "lived with a husband seven years from her virginity," and as being "a widow of about four-score and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served G.o.d with fastings and prayers night and day." This form of expression does not seem to furnish decisive evidence whether her entire age was eighty-four, or whether she was a widow during that period; if the latter, the seven years in which she had lived with a husband, together with the probable number which const.i.tuted her age at the time of her marriage, must be added to the calculation, which would produce considerably more than a hundred years; in either case she must be allowed to occupy a conspicuous place in the records of longevity.
It has been observed of the aged, that although existence, when extended beyond the usual period of "threescore years and ten," is nothing "but labour and sorrow," they still adhere to life with the utmost tenacity, and are even less disposed to relinquish it than those whose more vigorous powers and undecayed youth capacitate them for its enjoyment. But however surprised we may be to witness this anxiety to live in those who are bending beneath the pressure of years and the load of decrepitude, and to see that this anxiety rather increases than diminishes, there is something in it by no means unnatural. In addition to the love of life which is implanted in every human bosom for the wisest purposes, the aged person cannot but feel that he is nearer than others to that hour of separation from all the connexions and interests of time than the mult.i.tude around him--an hour at which nature instinctively shudders, and which is always regarded as painful, whatever may be the result. Corporeal suffering may be considerable; and that change of being which the mortal stroke produces has always something about it awful, mysterious, and terrific. There are few instances in which it can be approached without some degree of dread, some shrinking of mind, whatever be the state of detachment from the present world, and whatever pleasing antic.i.p.ations may exist with regard to another: as the patient, however a.s.sured of the necessity of the measure and the importance of the result, trembles while preparations are making to amputate his disordered limb. It may be observed also of the young, that while they compa.s.sionate their aged friends as the prey of a thousand imbecilities both of body and mind, and lament over a state in which man is reduced to a second childhood, there is scarcely an individual who does not harbour in secret the wish to attain an age equal at least, if not superior, to any of his cotemporaries. The reason is similar to that which influences persons at an advanced period of life; the thought of death, with all its concomitant evils, is unwelcome at any time, and consequently it is grateful to the mind to place it at the greatest conceivable distance; so that, were it now within the appointments of Providence or the bounds of probability, little doubt can be entertained that the great proportion of mankind would readily accept as a blessing a patriarchal or antediluvian age.
Anna is particularly noticed as the daughter of Phanuel, of whom we have no other information; and as belonging to the tribe of Asher, which was situated in Galilee. This, whether recorded for that purpose or not, might serve to refute the charge, that "out of Galilee ariseth no prophet,"
since from that quarter proceeded the very first inspirations upon the revival of the prophetic spirit. Asher was a very inferior tribe, and one of the ten carried captive by the a.s.syrians, having departed from the worship of the true G.o.d, and from the house of David, under Jeroboam. But notwithstanding this general defection, there were individuals who returned and reunited themselves with Judah, that they might enjoy the ancient privileges of the people of G.o.d. Thus even in the worst of times, and amidst the least favourable circ.u.mstances, some portion of true religion has always been preserved in the earth. Though the watchful eye of Providence has occasionally suffered the flame of devotion to languish and almost expire, yet its total extinction has been prevented, and unexpected coincidences have frequently excited it into new and more vigorous action.
We have in the history before us a specimen of a pious old age, remarkable in itself, and calculated to suggest a variety of useful considerations.
This holy woman probably lodged in the immediate vicinity, if not in some of the outward apartments of the temple, which gave her an opportunity of indulging in those constant devotions which accorded with her wishes and comported with her age. On every occasion she was present at appointed services, and so entire was her self-devotement to religion, that she was incessantly engaged in fasting and prayers. The world had no claims upon her, being alike unfitted for any of its avocations and indisposed to any of its pleasures: she had bid it a final farewell, and had withdrawn behind the scenes of this vast theatre, which are so artfully painted as to allure and deceive the imaginations of mankind, into the secrecy of devotion and the sanctuary of her G.o.d. Peace was the companion of her retirement, and piety shed its serenest ray upon the evening of her mortal existence.
It may be presumed that the religion of Anna was by no means of recent date, but that the seeds of so rich a harvest were sown "in the fields of youth." Whatever is great or eminent is usually the work of time. _Nature_ does not produce the oak, with its spreading branches and solid trunk, in a day or a twelve month; and, in general, a rapid luxuriancy is connected with corresponding weakness and quick decay. The plans of _Providence_ require the lapse of years or ages to accomplish: events of importance seldom burst suddenly upon the world, and without a previous course of preparatory dispensations, tending to point out the purposes of such occurrences, and to awaken human expectations. Nor can _excellence of character_ be formed without the use of means, opportunities of progressive improvement, and that experience which must be slowly gained.
Far be it from us to limit the operations of divine grace: it _can_, indeed, and in some instances _has_, produced effects of a nature to which no general rules and principles are applicable: it has instantaneously converted a furious persecutor into a faithful, laborious, and eminent preacher of "the faith which once he destroyed;" it has transformed a malefactor into a saint, and in one hour raised the criminal from the depths of infamy and the agonies of crucifixion to the dignity of a believer in Christ and the joys of paradise. But these surely ought not to be regarded as the ordinary methods of its operation, but rather as miraculous interferences. In general, religious ordinances are to be constantly and perseveringly attended, in order to the acquisition of eminence in religion: holy vigilance must concur with devout and fervent prayer, day by day, to check and finally vanquish the power of depravity, to elevate the mind above the world, and prepare the Christian for his future bliss; as the child must commonly be "_trained up_ in the way he should go," if we hope that "when he is old he will not depart from it."
Impressions deepen and acquire the force of principles by degrees, knowledge is obtained by perpetual acc.u.mulation, and faith is increased by constant exercise. It would be as vain to look for the wrinkles of age in the face of youth, or the strength of maturity in the arm of an infant, as to expect the experience which can only result from the witness of changes and the operation of circ.u.mstances, with its corresponding stability of character, in him who has but just commenced a life of piety. As "the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruits of the earth, and hath long patience for it until he receive the early and the latter rain," so we must in general look for a slow and gradual formation of the character to eminence and spiritual luxuriancy. The account given of Anna would therefore lead us to infer that she had been many years, and in all probability from her youth, devoted to the service of G.o.d.
She had not to regret that her best days were spent in riot and dissipation, in opposition or indifference to religion, by which so many debase their nature, offend their Maker, and ruin their souls: but while she contemplated the future without alarm, and perhaps with joy, she could review the past with satisfaction.
As memory predominates over the other faculties of the mind in declining life, and as so much of our happiness or misery at that period must necessarily result from its exercise, it is of the utmost importance to lay up in store a good provision in the "sacred treasure of the past."
Nothing can be more desirable than to leave the mind filled with pleasing recollections; and this can arise only from a life of holiness and purity.
How awful is it to think that the last hours should be disturbed by images of crime unrepented of, the intrusion of which into the dying chamber no force can prevent! How lamentable to see the terrors of death aggravated by the remorse and horrors of retrospection! "Life," says a profound writer, [25] "in which nothing has been done or suffered to distinguish one day from another, is to him that has pa.s.sed it as if it had never been, except that he is conscious how ill he has husbanded the great deposit of his Creator. Life, made memorable by crimes, and diversified through its several periods by wickedness, is indeed easily reviewed, but reviewed only with horror and remorse.
"The great consideration which ought to influence us in the use of the present moment, is to arise from the effect which, as well or ill applied, it must have upon the time to come; for, though its actual existence be inconceivably short, yet its effects are unlimited, and there is not the smallest point of time but may extend its consequences, either to our hurt or our advantage, through all eternity, and give us reason to remember it forever with anguish or exultation." We may take occasion from the account of Anna to remark, that true religion is the most substantial support amidst the INFIRMITIES of age. This is emphatically the period of "evil days," when diseases prey upon the const.i.tution, and the faculties both of body and mind decay. Then "the sun and the light, the moon and the stars are darkened;" the greatest change takes place in the outward circ.u.mstances of gladness and prosperity, the countenance of the man is altered, his complexion faded, and his intellectual faculties, as the understanding and the fancy, weakened. It is at this time "the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men how themselves; the grinders cease, because they are few, and those that look out of the windows are darkened;" the strongest members of the body fail, the limbs bend beneath the weight of decrepitude and the effects of paralytic distempers, the teeth drop away, while the eyes grow dim and languid; "the doors are shut in the streets when the sound of the grinding is low," the mouth becoming sunken and closed; they "rise up at the voice of the bird," awakened from imperfect slumber when the c.o.c.k crows or the birds begin their early songs; and "all the daughters of music," the tongue that expresses and the ears that are charmed with it, are "brought low;" they are "afraid of that which is high, and fears are in the way," alarmed at every step they take, lest they should stumble at the slightest obstacle, and especially apprehensive of the difficulties of any ascent. At that age their gray hairs thicken like the white flowers of the "almond tree" when it "flourishes," and even the very "gra.s.shopper is a burden," for they cannot bear the slightest inconvenience, not even the weight of an insect, and "desire fails:" then is the "silver cord loosed, the golden bowl broken; the pitcher is broken at the fountain, and the wheel is broken at the cistern;" all the animal and vital functions at length cease, and every essential organ of life decays; "then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto G.o.d who gave it."
Reduced to the state of feebleness and incapacity, which the sacred penman so beautifully describes, man becomes an object of compa.s.sion; and it is affecting to see him struggling amidst the ruins of his former self. The sight becomes increasingly painful from the consideration that this is one day to be our own condition; that we too are destined to grow old, to quit the busy scene and the social circle for the solitude of age, and in our turn to be pitied--perhaps forsaken! But there is one thing capable not only of preserving the old from contempt, but of raising them to grandeur and diffusing l.u.s.tre over their years of decrepitude. In contemplating Anna we do not think of her infirmities when we observe her piety: the meanness of the _woman_--tottering, crippled, dying--is lost amidst the majesty of the _saint_, incessantly serving G.o.d in his temple, and advancing to the grave "in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in his season." The dawning of a heavenly day seems to arise upon her "h.o.a.ry head:" which, "being found in the way of righteousness," is a "crown of glory."
Anna"s history further suggests, that religion is the most effectual guard against the VICES of advanced age. One of these is a spirit of _querulousness_. It is the common practice of those who believe themselves ent.i.tled to veneration on account of their years, to complain of the arrogant disregard of their counsels, which they impute to the rising generation. Cherishing the highest opinion of their own sentiments, to which they attribute a kind of infallibility, as being founded upon experience, they naturally expect implicit submission to their dictates and an exact conformity to their views: they require not only to be heard, but obeyed, and are impatient at the folly of those who rebel against their wisdom. Hence originate the often repeated tales of the degeneracy of the present times, and the growing insolence of the young. It may, indeed, be admitted, that, other things being equal, the aged have a just claim upon the attention of the young, whom they are sometimes qualified to instruct; but surely they are not always ent.i.tled to the same reverence, and age does not necessarily confer wisdom. Genuine humility, however, tends to correct the spirit of dictation, while it combines with an affectionate concern for the interests of those who are newly come into life; and genuine humility is the product of religion, which supplies motives to give advice with kindness, and to endure the rejection of it without anger.
Another fault of age, is the indulgence _of useless regrets for the past_.
In reviewing life, it is easy to discover instances of our own incaution or negligence, which have possibly influenced our affairs and been connected with many subsequent disappointments. We have not availed ourselves of fortunate conjunctures, or we have rejected profitable offers; one scheme has failed by our precipitancy, another by our procrastination--some persons, perhaps, have been foolishly trusted, and others as foolishly suspected--we have occasionally listened to advice which should not have been taken, or rejected what would have proved advantageous; and the consequence has been some diminution of fortune, some disappointment of our expectations, some failure in the crop of earthly enjoyment which we had antic.i.p.ated. If it were possible to recall the years which have for ever rolled away, or if the felicity of a rational and immortal being consisted in the possession of temporal abundance, worldly honour, or corporeal gratification, these regrets would have some show of propriety, and might at least secure a patient hearing; hut it is certain, they only betray a weak or a wicked mind; it is perhaps equally certain, they will generally continue to occupy the thoughts of the aged. There is, in fact, but one remedy, "pure and undefiled religion." It is this alone which can fix in the mind a full persuasion of the _nothingness_ of terrestrial pleasures and possessions. This only can console us after our ineffectual efforts to "gain the whole world," or amidst the loss of riches which have "taken to themselves wings," and long since "fled away," by the a.s.surance, that nothing we ever possessed was adequate to render us happy, without other and better enjoyments--that upon a fair estimate, it is questionable whether the perplexities it occasioned did not counterbalance the advantages it either bestowed or promised--and that could we _now_ call our own whatever we have most valued or desired of worldly good, it would prove incapable of making us substantially happy. _He_ need not wish to renew life, who has the hope of a better existence--nor regret the loss of temporal advantages, if he have immortal good. He who "lays up for himself treasures in heaven," may defy the storms of time, and adopt the triumphant language of the apostle, amidst the wreck of earthly good, "having nothing, yet possessing all things."
Similar views and principles alone can correct a third error of age, namely, the aim to _prolong juvenility to an unnatural period_. "To secure to the old that influence which they are willing to claim, and which might so much contribute to the improvement of the arts of life, it is absolutely necessary that they give themselves up to the duties of declining years; and contentedly resign to youth its levity, its pleasures, its frolics, and its fopperies. It is a hopeless endeavour to unite the contrarieties of spring and winter; it is unjust to claim the privileges of age, and retain the playthings of childhood. The young always form magnificent ideas of the wisdom and gravity of men whom they consider as placed at a distance from them in the ranks of existence, and naturally look on those whom they find trifling with long beards, with contempt and indignation, like that which women feel at the effeminacy of men. If dotards will contend with boys in those performances in which boys must always excel them, if they will dress crippled limbs in embroidery, endeavour at gayety with faltering voices, and darken a.s.semblies of pleasure with the ghastliness of disease, they may well expect those who find their diversions obstructed will hoot them away; and that if they descend to compet.i.tion with youth, they must bear the insolence of successful rivals." [26]
Religion also must be regarded as the best preparation for that END of life, with which old age is so closely connected. However proper it may be to realize this eventful time, at every period from our earliest to our latest day, it cannot but be regarded as more certainly and evident near at an advanced age. Anna, after the lapse of a century, had greater reason, surely, to apprehend her dissolution, than in the bloom of youth, or at the commencement of her widowhood; and how appaling the prospect!
It would diminish the impression we have of the terror of death, if his dominion were limited to a part of the world, or to any ascertainable extent of years; but, while his authority continues unimpaired and his stroke irresistible, the power he is permitted to exercise over humankind is universal. In visiting the repositories of the dead, it is calculated to awaken our liveliest sensibilities to trace the reign of the "king of terrors" upon the sepulchral stone, or the marble monument. In characters which time has almost erased, we read the records of the past, and by a more than probable a.n.a.logy penetrate some of the mysteries of the future.
Here and there occur the names of those who were venerable for age, remarkable for their exploits, conspicuous by their station, rank, or talent--GREAT by the consent of their cotemporaries--who once figured upon a stage which is now decayed, or where ill.u.s.trious in an empire which is now pa.s.sed away. Some have been smitten by death"s withering hand at an earlier, some at a later period of life. Adjoining the grave of age is the tomb of youth. There you see the stone half buried in acc.u.mulating heaps of earth, and the inscriptions of love and tenderness obscured by collecting moss; while the hand that wrote them has long since become motionless, and the heart that dictated them ceased to beat.
It is affecting to visit places of public resort, under the full influence of the consideration, that this busy and anxious crowd will soon disappear--their race will be run, and the immortal prize gained--or--lost! These possessors of the soil will, in a little time, be disinherited--these tenants of a day exchanged--the funeral pall will cover the most ambitious and the most active of them all, and the motley mult.i.tude be succeeded by others equally busy, equally anxious, equally thoughtless of another state of being--and equally _mortal_!
But these sentiments, however calculated to fill irreligious persons with dread and melancholy, can produce no despondency in those who, like Anna, are accustomed to the truths of religion, and derive the chief pleasure both of their youthful and decrepit age from the services of religion.
With regard to _death itself_ they are taught that his power is limited to the body, and that it is restricted even to a short period over this inferior part of our nature; and as to its _consequences_, they cannot incessantly frequent the temple, and be occupied in devotion, without learning the value, as well as the reality, of those considerations which are drawn from eternity. They know that "this corruptible shall put on incorruption, this mortal put on immortality," and that then "there shall be no more death." And what do these expressions imply, but, _the entire renovation of our nature?_--Man is mortal, because he is sinful; and, consequently, the removal of sin will prove the extinction of death. It is only by the introduction of moral evil that the earth has been converted into a vast cemetery, and life become a short and rugged pa.s.sage to the sepulchre; but when it shall no longer prevail, our sanctified nature will inherit the abodes of purity and undecaying existence. It is this consideration which endears celestial felicity. Exemption from death implies deliverance from sin, and the Christian wishes to possess a character which G.o.d shall approve, and to be cleansed from those stains of guilt which infect his present being, and render him offensive to his Father in heaven. Were he destined always to be unholy, he would scarcely contemplate immortality as a blessing; but because he has reason to antic.i.p.ate "a waking" from the sleep of the grave, in the divine "likeness," he realizes a period in the bright annals of his future being, when he shall no longer have occasion to exclaim, "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" The pains of _separation_, too, which afflict this mortal state, cannot exist in that "better country." Society will unquestionably prove one considerable source of the happiness of heaven, where immortal beings will be so circ.u.mstanced and capacitated, as both to receive and impart enjoyment.
The very nature of man is const.i.tuted social; and though our circ.u.mstances in this life often render temporary separations unavoidable, in a perfect state of society they must be needless; consequently they will not be suffered to impair the joys of paradise.
The most afflictive of all separations, is that which is occasioned by death. In all other cases, a lingering hope may exist of a reunion at some period however distant; at least _the possibility of_ it is cheering: but, even if there be no reasonable expectation of this, the very consciousness that our friend is still alive, still on earth, still capable of receiving and performing acts of kindness, still able to communicate with us by letter or by message, to partic.i.p.ate our pleasures, to sympathize with our sorrows, and to pray for our welfare, is consoling in every vicissitude;--but when death sets his awful seal upon our companion, relative or friend, we cherish a deeper feeling of grief, and cannot look to any _earthly_ means of consolation--but we _can_ look to a _heavenly_ one! Whatever resource fails, the religion of the Bible supplies inexhaustible springs of comfort. G.o.d is on high--Jesus "ever lives"--Christians know they shall soon pa.s.s into a world where the happy circle will never be broken, the communion of kindred spirits never cease, the day of blessedness never decline, the sabbath of immortality never terminate.