THE FAITH OF

DYING JACOB.

"And Israel said unto Joseph, behold, I die, but God will be with you." GENESIS xviii. 21.

WHEN I behold all the coin of the heavenly and
earthly creation, I find this motto and stamp in the
circle, I die. What is life?* but a circle that ends
where it began, dust thou art, and to dust shall thou
return. The blessed angels† died morally,‡ falling

* WHAT IS LIFE.

What is life? 'tis a delicate shell
Thrown up by eternity's flow,
On Time's bank of quicksand to dwell,
And a moment its loveliness show.

Gone back to its element grand,
To the billow that brought it on shore;
See, another is washing the land,
And the beautiful shell is no more.

MONTGOMERY.

† As long as you can discourse concerning arts and sciences, men will applaud in proportion to the knowledge and skill with which you handle the subjects: but if you only, for one moment, outstrip this line, and talk of the lives which angels live, and the future destiny of man, the world in general will only look upon you as imbecile or fanatical. A. R.

‡ This is a truth both heard and received by mankind without the slightest emotion, or injustice on the part of God in allowing this higher order of intelligences to fall, and that for ever without even the hope or promise of one of them ever being saved, since for them he has provided no Saviour; but if the argument be applied to our own race, which justly deserves eternal wrath, both on account of Adam's transgression, as well as our own personal disobedience, and we read of God's goodness in sending his own dear son in redeeming any portion of our fallen race by his own blood, they immediately call God unjust, and have hard thoughts concerning his taking a part to himself, which he gave to Christ before the foundation of the world, (though Christ's blood was shed for the whole world, and is capable of redeeming ten thousand worlds; but since salvation is not proclaimed by the blood of Christ alone, but by the spirit's application of that blood.—Lambert Articles)—which spirit all have not, for some have not the spirit, as is very evident from the athetism which has ever abounded: and from such blasphemous mouths as these is God called unjust in man's perdition, though not in the angels; and the reason is, because it comes nearer home to our own race.—Dr. Gill.

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THE FAITH OF DYING JACOB.

from the life of God and glory. Adam was clothed
with skins, *veluti quadam morte indutus*, the figures
of his dying condition. The glorious heavens which
have endured so long, at last shall perish, at least by
immutation, that the dross and stains of sin may be
burnt out, if not by abolition; not only nature, but
the God of nature dies, though he was not *ταύτης τῆς
κτίσεως* (HEB. ix. 12) of ordinary human creation,
even his stately and exquisitely compacted fabric,
that could bear more than all the world, was cracked
and dissolved by the force of death. This is the
devourer of all the brood of time: the leveller that
eveneth all at its foot: *pares nascimur, pares morimur*;
equality in birth, equality in death; all dusts
shake hands, and mingle together without strife for
precedency. *Diogenes* grovelling among the ashes of
the tombs, could perceive no difference between the rich
and poor: death with its scythe goes into all the fields
of nature, till it hath gathered in the harvest of all.
What was but supposed of other conquerors, is true
of this Black Prince, the whole world must yield to
his over-matching sword, and puissant mace. He is
like Leviathan, made without fear, beholdeth all high
things, and is king over all the children of pride:
like the war-horse, he paweth in the valley, and
rejoiceth in his strength; he goeth on to meet the
armed Mammon, he mocketh at fear, and is not
affrighted, neither turneth he back from the sword,
but saith among the trumpets, Ha! Ha! At the gates
of this conqueror are piled up the prince's sceptre,
the senator's robes, the judge's gown, the soldier's
sword, the rustic's spade, the scholar's library.* This
eats asunder the strongest sinews and joints of the

*DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays its icy hands on kings.

Sceptre and crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked sithe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;

But their strong nerves at last must yield,
They came but one another still.

THE FAITH OF DYING JACOB.

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whole creation. The strongest oak, the tallest cedar,
the whitest lily, the fairest rose do him homage. He
is not confined to one climate, but is an under-God
over all the world. He impartially treadeth on the
threshold, and knocks at the doors of all. The
prince and peasant dance in one ring; it is the way
of all the living, Josh. xxiii. 14. I know, saith Job,
that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house
appointed for all living, c. xxx. v. 23. *Post Genesin
sequitur Exodus.* The departure follows (quickly)
after the nativity. There is no man that liveth that
shall not see death, by dissolution or mutation. In
this road innumerable travellers are gone before, and
innumerable are following after by the irreversible
decree of heaven. All must lie in this bed; the
grave enquires after all. It is the common inn for
all, though in the morning of the resurrection the
travellers take their different roads, some to the
everlasting hills, and others to the infernal valleys.
The butler and baker came both out of prison, the
one to promotion, the other to execution. Two men
are unstripped, one to be scourged, the other to be
clothed with new costly apparel.

This universal mutability Israel confirms, *Behold, I die, but God will be with you*. Joseph had sent him chariots to fetch him to Egypt, and God was sending chariots to fetch him to his heavenly Canaan. Lo, a grateful mixture, Death and Life are before him: looking with his bodily eye, he cries, *Terram video*, I espy the earth; and looking with his be-lieving eye he cries, *Cœlum video*, I descry the heaven: he at once smells the savour of life and death, and revives at both.

Early or late,
They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow:
Then boast no more your mighty deeds!
Upon Death's purple altar now
See where the victor-victim bleeds!
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb.

Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.

SHIRLEY.