It is THE season puts the question to the reader, not we. not we that say, Come, let us sit down awhile and meditate upon the swift flight of years;-it is the Time that speaks. Is the question worth answering? Sometimes we have a dreary misgiving that it is not, that what hath been shall be, however much we meditate and moralize. But the question shall be heard nevertheless, were it only to meet this dismal doubt, and learn whether it is indeed so, whether it is settled that we are the creatures of circumstance, that we have no spiritual or moral power, that we are steeped in slumber and cannot arouse and so join ourselves unto Christ as to get victories. Are we for ever given up to the pursuit of wealth, the slavery of fashion, the pride of learning,—to luxury and indolence? If so, we ought not to talk any longer about happy New Years. But the case cannot be so hopeless. The world is not forsaken of God. There shall come new life with the new Time. How old art thou?-or, how young?-for the question comes to those whose days on the earth have not been many, and for whom it is likely there are long years in store. For the young it is a word of hope and good cheer; no dark past throws forward a heavy shadow; choice opportunities await them; they are strong; their hearts beat fast; the clogs of habit are not nailed to their feet; it may be a beautiful, blessed world that lies out before them. They are young, and yet old enough to hear the voice of conscience, to accept the spirit of Christ, to form a high, clear purpose of holy living, according to the law of the Gospel, — old enough to be patient, brave, and hopeful disciples of Jesus Christ,— old enough to forsake the evil and choose the good. Would that the lesson of the season might reach the hearts of those who are not yet old in worldliness; whose thoughts and lives have as yet taken no definite direction; who may exercise that blessed privilege of coming freely to the Father through the Son, in the joy and hope of youth, of their own choice, and not fleeing to him as a refuge when all else has failed. Could those who are but just entering upon manhood or womanhood only realize how many are praying to God vainly that he would give back to them the years which have been wasted in frivolity and sin,- how many would give the whole world, if they had it, to be again at the threshold of life, no awful sorrow rooted in the memory, - they would not let this season pass without recording a solemn vow, as in the presence of Him who helpeth our poor hearts, to make their days beautiful with an unaffected piety, bright with shining deeds, distinguished by an unspotted purity, a tender humanity, a spirit of self-sacrifice. Seek first the kingdom of God. Trust him to make you as happy as you need to be. He is our true portion. How old art thou? More years, it may be, added to the past, fewer remaining for the embodiment of purposes in deeds, years not a few that we recall with no great satisfaction, opportunities lost, treasures of God selfishly misused, idle words for which no account can be rendered. How |
