youth and strength, with an idea that they will not only have leisure but inclination to give themselves up to that serious duty in the season of old age. To show the danger and vanity of this notion, Solomon reminds us of the calamities and infirmities of old age, by a great variety of figures or images, which are not without some little obscurity to us, though their general meaning is plain, and they are full of touching and simple beauty.

The infirmities of old age are often such that men have then "no pleasure" in their days. "The sun," and "the light," and "the moon," and "the stars," are then "darkened." Men are then unable to enjoy the pleasantness of the light, and the beauties of nature, as formerly. Or rather, perhaps, the meaning is, the judgment, and memory, and imagination, those lights of the mind, are so impaired that they seem to be darkened and extinguished. "The clouds also return after rain." In youth, when the season of affliction was past, the soul was able again to feel the sunshine of joy; but now the rain is no sooner over, than the clouds return, and no interval of comfort or enjoyment is experienced.

"The keepers of the house tremble." The hands and arms with which men defend themselves from assaults and accidents are now so feeble, that the house (the body) is exposed to continual danger. "The strong men bow themselves." The shoulders, which were equal to almost any load, are now so bowed with continual weakness, that even "the grasshopper is a burden." Or perhaps this means, that the legs which were once so active in their spring and tread, have now so lost their power, that instead of bearing the body unweariedly from place to place, they are

themselves a burden; and can with difficulty be moved, one before the other.

"The grinders cease, because they are few." And "the doors are shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low." The teeth are now few, and incapable of fulfilling their office; and the voice also has in consequence become so indistinct that the door of the lips is not opened as formerly in the great assembly. "All the daughters of musick are brought low." The ears, as well as the voice, have lost their capacity for the pleasure of music; and the mere "voice of a bird" is now sufficient to startle the ear that took delight in the swelling notes of those who play well on instruments. "Those also that look out of the windows are darkened." The eyes by which the soul looked forth as from a window on the beauties of nature, are now so dim that they are to a great degree unserviceable. The aged person is afraid of "that which is high;" the least ascent in his path, or the many accidents that may befall him when he goes forth abroad. His head is become white and hoary, like an almond-tree.

And at length his declining powers fail altogether to perform their office: and the mourners going about the streets proclaim that "desire has indeed ceased;" and that the period of suffering and infirmity is closed. "The silver cord is loosed." The mysterious bond by which the soul was united to the body is now dissolved; and the delicate nerves by which sensation was conveyed to the brain are now relaxed for ever. "The golden bowl is broken," and "the pitcher broken at the fountain." The heart, which is the well or reservoir of the blood, out of which it is, so to say, drawn in a bowl or pitcher, and thus made to

circulate through the veins, now fails to supply the living stream. The lungs cease to play, the heart to beat, the blood to circulate; just as when a pitcher is broken at a fountain, or a wheel at a cistern, the water can no longer be drawn up. And thus "the body returns to the earth as it was; and the spirit returns to God who gave it."

How unsuitable then is the period of old age to a work which requires so earnest an exertion of all our faculties, as the work of remembering our duty to our Creator, and preparing for death and judgment! How needful is it to apply ourselves to this most necessary duty, while we have yet the use of our various powers, and may glorify God by using them in His service! Let those sacred admonitions sink into our hearts, "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work." And, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest."2

1 John ix. 4.

2 Eccles. ix. 10.

XXXVI.-THE EARLY WORKMEN.

"I have sent also unto you all my servants the prophets, rising up early and sending them, saying, Return ye now every man from his evil way, and amend your doings."-Jer. xxxv. 15.-See also Jer. xxv. 4; Luke x. 16; xx. 9, &c.

My child, long before your head had left its pillow, our neighbour was busily employed upon his daily task. With the first dawn of daylight in the east, he rose from his scanty rest, and resumed with cheerful industry the work which he had left unfinished. No longer than was absolutely necessary for exhausted nature did he "give sleep to his eyes, and slumber to his eyelids." While spirits less earnest than his own were still buried in the forgetfulness of sleep; and few, not bound by necessary duty to such early wakefulness, were yet abroad; he had made good way in the em

ployment which he is so anxious to accomplish. Is it zeal for the progress of some important work that prompts him to such unusual sacrifice of welcome and refreshing rest? or is it his tender concern for those who are dearest to him, and his earnest desire to provide for them what is necessary to their welfare or enjoyment? Perhaps some afflicted relative is supported by the proceeds of these hours which he gains from sleep; or the earnings are wanted for the education of some beloved son, for whose sake the father thus willingly denies himself, and thinks nothing of his toil, while working for the child of his affections. Or it may be that he is "constrained" thus to "spend himself," in order to earn, in these additional hours, the means which he would not otherwise possess of contributing to the relief of Christ's poorer members, or to the propagation of His Gospel among the heathen. If this be the holy purpose for which he thus "rises early," how heavenly must be the peace of his heart, as he busily plies his task! and how happy must be his consciousness that he is serving the best of masters; and permitted thus to testify to Him by a willing service the sincerity of his love! In any wise, he is a pattern to us of industry and patient self-denial ; and reminds us how much may be done by abridging at times the hours which we allot to sleep. Let us learn of him that zeal must show itself not in word, but in deed; and be persuaded that we never work so well (whether it be in the work of prayer and praise, or in the daily duties of our calling), as when we act in the spirit of the Psalmist's resolution with respect to prayer: "My voice shalt thou hear betimes, O Lord! early in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.”1

1 Ps. v. 3.
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