ONE balmy morning in spring, a gentleman drove through grounds, fragrant with early flowers, to a house, large and handsome, denoting comfort of every kind that money or taste could supply; but a visitor had been before him, a visitor that none could keep out, that no bribe could delay, against whom money, and place, and position, and power availed as nothing,-and that visitor was death. Was he welcome? was he expected? Expected he might have been, for the life of the proprietor of that fair domain had for a long time been uncertain. And now of what avail all the wealth? it could not procure one short hour's life; of what use the sweet flowers? the senses that once enjoyed them lay still in death, never again to gaze on that beautiful scene, but, cold and silent, soon to return to the dust from whence she came.
From this house of sadness the writer drove to his next call. At the door of the humble house, a weeping woman meets him with the words, “He’s gone, sir; but I'm quite happy about him, he's gone to heaven.”
“Why think you so?”
“Well, sir, just before he died he seemed uneasy, and I said to him, ' John, is there anything you want?” Well, Mary,' he said, ' there are many things I want, but I've found the Lord Jesus Christ, and I'm going to glory.' And very shortly after that he died.”
Poor down here, wanting many things; but rich, how rich with the true riches of the One "who was rich, and yet for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might become rich." Not that he had known his Saviour long, only a day or two; but one who knew the Lord for himself had read to him the third chapter of John's Gospel, and the Spirit of God had used this Word of God to show the man his need of a Saviour, and to give him confidence in the Saviour God had provided.
Which of these two was the richer? Oh, dear reader, all Dives' wealth on earth could not procure him one drop of water in hell. Is it earthly things that occupy your gaze—that fill your heart? Put yourself for one moment on your deathbed, dear friend. Face the question,—Have you anything beyond the grave? is the future a blank? are your possessions outside this scene? are they where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal? Or are you content to sell your eternity for a few fleeting years of earthly pleasures, and to spend that eternity in the place where their worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched? E. C.