Poor pilgrim, weary with the toils of life, distressed and afflicted
on every hand, persecuted and forsaken by thy fellowmen, hast thou
ever fathomed the depths of that glorious declaration, "I will never
leave thee, nor forsake thee"?--Heb. 13:5. Hast thou ever realized
that in whatever situation thou mayest be placed--on the mountains of
delight or in the vale of humiliation, in sickness or in health, in
prosperity or in adversity, in life or in death--thou art under the
immediate protection of the great Shepherd of Israel, who never sleeps
nor slumbers? The heavens may gather blackness, the storm may come
down in fury, but He who whispered, "Peace, be still," to the raging
billows, is "the same yesterday, to-day and forever"; and though now
invisible his presence is with thee as truly and as really as it was
with the timid band of disciples on the stormy sea of Galilee. The
same Jesus that walked the streets of Jerusalem,--the pitiful, the
affectionate, the tender-hearted,--is an eye-witness of all thy tears,
thy trials and temptations. His ear, which was never closed to the cry
of the poor and needy, is still open to thy call; and the heart which
embraced the whole universe has a place for thee. The fires upon thy
altar may have grown dim; the sacrifice may have been the poor and
lean of thy flock; but the coals of divine love are bright upon the
heavenly altar; and the great Sacrifice--the Lamb without spot or
blemish-whispers of Calvary and Gethsemane, and mentions thee in his
intercession.
Amazing love! love never to be fathomed. Angels who wait to do his'
bidding, seraphim and cherubim who behold his face in glory, can ye
comprehend the height and depth, the length and breadth of the
Saviour's love? Ah! angels, and seraphim, and cherubim still bend
above the mercy-seat and "desire to look into" these things; but ages
on ages of eternity may roll away and the love that bowed the heavens
for sinful and degraded mortals shall still remain an unsounded deep!
And this love is for thee--for _thee_--, poor pilgrim. Plunge then
deeply into this unfathomable ocean. Fear not to loosen thy hold upon
the shore: there is nothing there worthy thy love. Thou art an heir of
immortality, and the pleasures which endure for a season should be
nothing to thee. Wealth, and honor, and power are only the gildings of
a groaning and sin-cursed earth. The shouts of mirth and revelry borne
upon the midnight air, are only the prelude to tears and sighs and
mourning. Behind thee is the blackness of despair, before thee the
everlasting sunshine. Away, away! tarry not to sip water from the
broken cistern, for the living fountain gushes forth, clear as
crystal; and the invitation is for all: "Ho, every one that thirsteth"
(Isa. 55: 1; Rev. 21:6; 22:17).--_Aug_. 10, 1856.