convulsed, as I have stood by him over the grave of his infant boy. But how much greater the trial when the son dies in the vigour and bloom of young manhood; dies after he has by interchanges of thought, a thousand little offices of love, and many amiable features of character, sent his roots as it were into every part of the father's heart; dies after he has by years of anxious labor, assiduous attention, and expenditure of much property, been reared and fully trained for the duties of life :-dies just as the father begins to feel that his son will relieve him of many of the anxieties that have pressed upon him through his domestic history, and hopes that he will brighten the evening of his days and smooth his downward path to the grave. To lose two such sons at such a period, what a trial! This was Aaron's. Thirdly: He had lost two sons, not only after they had reached maturity, but after they had entered upon the most important and honorable office in life. Disappointment is no trivial element in the afflictions of men. In proportion to the importance you attach to the object you aim to accomplish, is the agony of disappointment if the end is not reached. What higher position could a pious parent desire for his sons than that they should become ministers of religion? This was the object we may suppose Aaron devoutly sought, this regulated his educational conduct as a father; for this he toiled and prayed. He lived to see his sons inaugurated in that most dignified position. He saw his pious aspirations realized, his devout parental ambition gratified. He might have said as he saw them put on the priestly vestments,-Now my highest expectations are realized, my prayers are answeredthey will honorably fill my place when I am gone. But scarcely had he witnessed the inauguration, before they were taken away "with a stroke." What a disappointment! Fourthly: He had lost two sons not only after they had reached maturity and entered upon the most honorable and important office in life, but in the most sudden way. Had they both, soon after they had entered on their office, been seized with some disease which would gradually undermine their constitutions and bring them to the grave; had they been for some time confined to their chamber, the subjects of great suffering, Aaron might have gradually brought his mind to expect, and even to desire, their dissolution. Many fond parents have, by witnessing day after day and week after week, the sufferings and weakness of the loved ones, been brought by very love to desire, by death, their deliverance out of their sufferings. But this was not the case of Aaron's bereavement. They were taken away in a moment. Fifthly: He had lost two sons not only after they had reached the age of maturity, entered upon the most important and honorable position in life, and that too in the most sudden way; but lost them in such a manner as afforded him no hope for their future blessedness. Great, to a godly parent, is the consolation arising from the belief that his departed children have entered the holy and happy state of redeemed spirits. Such consolation, however, was not Aaron's. He must have had the most agonizing apprehensions about their destiny. They were struck down by offended justice, they were scathed by the lightning of Divine indignation. Not a moment allowed for repentance. Bereaved parents measure your trial by Aaron's, and it will seem a trifle. "He II. THE TRANQUILISING INFLUENCES OF HUMAN LIFE. held his peace." What enabled him to do so under this tremendously exciting event? Sometimes persons hold their peace from the unutterableness of their emotions. It is said that the man who appeared at the feast "without the wedding garment," was "speechless"; his feelings choked the organs of expression. On the Day of Judgment, we are told, "every mouth shall be stopped." In these cases the silence is forced; overwhelming emotions paralyze the soul into voicelessness. But, in Aaron's case there is voluntary action. "He held his peace;" his was the peace of voluntary acquiescence and resignation. What are the influences that thus tranquilize the soul under the action of such disturbing forces? There are three kinds of calming influences that are resorted to by men under trial: the carnal, the stoical, and the Christian. Glance for a moment at each of these, in order to see which is the most worthy and which the most fit. The thoughtless worldling under trial betakes himself to the first; he mingles in the circles of the gay, he joins in the revelry of the sensual; he reads the fascinating tale, he sings the comic song, he takes the inebriating cup; and all this to deaden his conscience and to drown his sorrows. But all this is very ineffective; it is a kind of laudanum, it deadens the pain for the hour, but it does not remove its cause. The second is resorted to by the secular philosopher: he endeavors to reason himself into peace from the necessary unavoidableness of the event; he regards the universe as under the iron sway of necessity; no amount of human agency could have prevented what has occurred; to indulge in grief is to the last degree impolitic and self-injurious; his dictum is, "All things come alike to all"—his practical inference is "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." This is not effective: conscience protests against such logic. The third is resorted to by the Christian disciple; he seeks for consolation in the doctrines and promises of the Gospel. CHRISTIANITY IS THE TRUE TRANQUILIZING FORCE. It contains at least four doetrines that tend to pacify the human spirit under the most trying circumstances of life. First That all who have implicit confidence in Christ, as the mediator, are reconciled to God and delivered from condemnation. So long as there is a sense of guilt on the conscience, a self compunction, a foreboding future, nothing in the universe can tranquilize. A guilty conscience will stir the sea of the soul into tumult, however calm the outward air, and bright the outward sky. Now, Christianity gives peace to the conscience. 66 Being justified by faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Secondly: That every disturbing event takes place under the superintendence of God. The Gospel knows nothing of fortuitousness and chance. It refers all to God. It tells us of our individual history-that "Even the very hairs of our head are numbered;" that in the fluctuations of society "He puts down one and sets up another;" that in our dissolution "he changes our countenance and sends us away." "He sees with equal eye as God of all And now a bubble burst, and now a world." Thirdly: That God has an absolute right to dispose of all things as He thinks fit. "Who art thou, O man, that repliest against God?" "Has not the potter power over the clay to make one vessel for honour and another for dishonour?" He gave ; and has He not a right to take away ? Fourthly: That the most painful events to the good are short, and may be rendered subservient to their highest interest. "Our light afflictions which are but for a moment," &c. "No affliction for the present seemeth joyous," &c. In many ways trials subserve the spiritual interest of the good. They deepen the sense of our individuality by detaching us from society and making us in our sufferings feel our loneliness; they impress us with the unsatisfactoriness of all things pertaining to this material life. Brothers here in Christianity are the true tranquilizing influences of life. The calming elements of eternity are here. Herein is "the rest for the people of God." Here David stood when he said "I was dumb, I opened not my mouth because thou didst it." Here Job stood when he exclaimed, "The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord." Here Paul stood, as the loudest thunders of persecution pealed through his heavens, and said with a brave and buoyant heart, "None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me." Here, you and I may stand amidst all the changes and tumults of time as under "the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Southey has with great poetic beauty described how the calamities of life affect the pious soul:-they are only as clouds passing over the moon, making the queen of night appear more majestic in her march. "Look yonder at that cloud, which, through the sky The rolling moon! I watched it as it came, And deemed the bright opaque would blot her beams. SUBJECT:-The Nearness of God. "Though he be not far from every one of us."—Acts xvii. 27. Analysis of Homily the Three Hundred and Ninety-sixth. existence, however vast or This is a doctrine recog THERE IS ONE being in the universe who is in a direct, constant, and vital, contact with all minute, however remote or near. nized by universal consciousness, established by all true philosophy, explicitly affirmed, cogently enforced, and variously illustrated, in the glorious Old Bible. In relation to this truth, our race may be divided into five classes :First Those who enjoy His presence. The Psalmist, who said, "When I awake I am still with thee," may be taken as a representative of this class. Secondly: Those who are stolidly insensible of His presence. The unconverted men of Ephesus, referred to by Paul, (Eph. ii. 12.) as being "without God and without hope in the world," are representatives of this class, the dominant class of all ages and climes. Thirdly: Those who are in horrific dread of His presence. The ungodly spoken of by the Patriarch of Uz, (Job. xxi. 14.) are types of this miserable class. They say unto God, "Depart from us, for we desire not a knowledge of thy ways." Depart:"-this is the unceasing cry of hell. Fourthly: Those who are in earnest search of His presence. Job, in one period of his history represented this class. Their cry is, "Oh that I knew where I might find him! that I might come even to his seat !" (Job xxiii. 3.) This class comprehends all 66 |