THE ONLY PERFECT ONE.
I have just finished "D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation." How many noble characters are here brought to light! how many fervent Christians—how many lofty souls—how many holy hearts! The firm and undaunted Luther, the gentle Melancthon, the brave and courageous Zwingle, the mild Ecolampadi—us, the zealous and fiery Farel—and a host of others equally noble in the Master's cause. And yet they all had their faults; not one of them was perfect. Though we may sometimes feel to deplore their failings, yet surely it is a comfort to the poor Christian, beset with temptations and wandering daily from the straight and narrow path, to look back upon the lives of the best of earth's sons—the noblest and the holiest,—and behold that even they sometimes went astray. It buoys up his soul with new hope and courage. It bids it cast aside every thought of justification save by faith in Jesus Christ. It increases that faith, and directs the weary pilgrim to the feet of Him who alone is holy and perfect.—June 30,1852.
THE DYING CHRISTIAN.
I have heard music from a far-off land,
Where sighs and sad laments are never heard;
Where friends can meet and clasp each other's hand,
But ne'er give utterance to that dreadful word
Which has wrung hearts, and like a funeral knell
Has tolled for our departed hopes—"Farewell!"
I have had visions of that blessed clime,
Where fadeless flowers and fruits immortal grow—
Far, far beyond the troubled waves of—Time,
Where streams of living waters sparkling flow;
And while a pilgrim here I sadly roam,
I love to call that blissful land my home.
And often with the passing breeze I hear
A sweet, a sad, perchance a warning tone:
"Heaven calls for thee," falls on my willing ear;
Oh! can the glorious message be mine own?
Can it be mine, unworthy child of clay,
To win the realms of everlasting day?
Through Him who died, through Him who rose again,
Through Him who lives, and lives forevermore,
I may at last that blissful rest obtain,
And I may stand upon the lovely shore
Where youth and health on every cheek shall bloom,
Beyond the reach of death and of the tomb.
Then hail sweet voice! sweet message to my heart!
Hail, land of love and home of endless peace!
Ye ties that bind me here, oh! quickly part,
And shout, my soul, for joy to find release,
With angels meet and sing in sweet accord,
Forever blest, forever with the Lord!
THE REQUEST.
Come sit here close beside me and take my hand in thine,
And tell me of the happy home I think will soon be mine;
Oh, tell me of the river and of the garden fair,
And of the tree of life that waves its healing branches there!