Year: 1866

A few days before the death of Sir Wal
ter Scott, there was lucid interval of that
distressing malady which had for some time
afflicted him, and to remove which he had
travelled in vain to London, to Italy, and
to Malta. He was again in his own home.
In one of these calm moments of reason,
"gentle as an infant" says his biographer,
when the distressing alterations of his mind
had for time ceased, he desired to be
drawn into his library and placed by the
window, that he might look down upon the
Tweed To his son-in-aw he expressed a
wish that he should read to him. 'From
what book shall l read ?" said he. "And
you. ask 2" Scott replied there is but
one" 81 choose" said his biographer,
John xiv" He listened with mild devo-
ton. and said when had done. "Well this
is great comfort have followed you
distinctly, and | feel as if were yet to be
myself again. Life of Scott, vi 5S8


| comment not ON the dying testimony of
this eminent man in favor of the Bible. On
the bed of death, "there is but one" book
that can meet the case Not his own beau
tiful poems, nor his own enchanting works
of fiction, were his comforters there. He
had come to point where fiction gave way
to reality and we can conceive of scarce
ly any scene of higher sublimlty than was
thus evinced, when mind that had charm
ed so many other minds, the most popular
writer of his age, if not of any age, in the
solemn hour when life was about to close,
gave this voluntary tribute to the solitary
eminence of the Bible above all other books.
Would that his dying declaration could be
imprinted on the title page of all his works,
that wherever they shall be read his solemn
testimony might go with them, that time
is coming when but one book can have
claims ON the attention of men, and but one
book will be adapted to guide their steps
and to comfort their hearts.


May suggest to the readers of novels
and romances that the time is coming when
one after another, these books will be laid
aside when the romance of life will be eX-
changed from the sober reality of death !;
and when the most gorgeous and splendid
illusions of this world will give place to the
contemplation of the realities of that ever
lasting scene which opens beyond the grave.
Then you will need, not fiction, but truth !;
not gorgeous descriptions, not the enchant-
ing narrative. not the wizard illusions of
the master mind that can play upon the
feelings and entrance the heart but the
World-the eternal Word of that God who
cannot lie, and the sweet consultations of
that zone book" whose beauties, after all,
as much transcend the highest creations of
genius as its truths are more valuable fc-
ton We may live amidst gorgeous scenes,
amidst splendid illusions, amidst change
less clouds, amidst vapors that float on the
air, and then vanish but when we die we
shall wish to plant our feet, not on evane-
scent vapors and changing though brilliant
clouds, but on the eternal Rock, position
which shall be firm when the rain descend,
and the floods come, and the winds blow
(Matthew vii 25.) And in reference to
that dark valley which we must all soon
tread, that valley which appears so chilly
and dismal to man, along which no one has
returned to be our conductor and guide,
whatever may be said of the Bible in regard
to the past history of our race, or our own
history in particular, or the various inqui
ries which have come before the human
mind, it is indubitably then to be the only
certain clamp unto our feet, and light to
our path."- Rev. Albert Barnes.