The Biography of Robert Murray MCheyne | Page 8

the world, And its paltry crowd; She has chosen the world, And an endless shroud! She has chosen the world With its misnamed pleasures; She has chosen the world, Before heaven's own treasures.
She hath launched her boat On life's giddy sea, And her all is afloat For eternity. But Bethlehem's star Is not in her view; And her aim is far From the harbor true.
When the storm descends From an angry sky, Ah! where from the winds Shall the vessel fly? [Away, then--oh, fly From the joys of earth! Her smile is a lie-- There's a sting in her mirth.]*
When stars are concealed, And rudder gone, And heaven is sealed To the wandering one
The whirlpool opes For the gallant prize; And, with all her hopes, To the deep she hies! But who may tell Of the place of woe, Where the wicked dwell, Where the worldlings go?
For the human heart Can ne'er conceive What joys are the part Of them who believe; Nor can justly think Of the cup of death, Which all must drink Who despise the faith.
*Come, leave the dreams Of this transient night, And bask in the beams Of an endless light.
*TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: In the original "Memoirs and Remains of the Reverend Robert Murray McCheyne", the passage in brackets was the first half of the last, eight-line stanza, and the following quartet was part of the eight-line stanza beginning "When the storm descends".
"March 6.--Wild wind and rain all day long. Hebrew class--Psalms. New beauty in the original every time I read. Dr. Welsh--lecture on Pliny's letter about the Christians of Bithynia. Professor Jameson on quartz. Dr. Chalmers grappling with Hume's arguments. Evening--Notes, and little else. Mind and body dull." This is a specimen of his register of daily study.
March 20.--After a few sentences in Latin, concluding with "In meam animam veni, Domine Deus omnipotens," he writes, "Leaning on a staff of my own devising, it betrayed me, and broke under me. It was not thy staff. Resolving to be a god, Thou showedst me that I was but a man. But my own staff being broken, why may I not lay hold of thine?--Read part of the Life of Jonathan Edwards. How feeble does my spark of Christianity appear beside such a sun! But even his was a borrowed light, and the same source is still open to enlighten me."
"April 8.--Have found much rest in Him who bore all our burdens for us."
"April 26.--To-night I ventured to break the ice of unchristian silence. Why should not selfishness be buried beneath the Atlantic in matters so sacred?"
May 6, Saturday evening.--This was the evening previous to the Communion; and in prospect of again declaring himself the Lord's at his table, he enters into a brief review of his state. He had partaken of the ordinance in May of the year before for the first time; but he was then living at ease, and saw not the solemn nature of the step he took. He now sits down and reviews the past:--
"What a mass of corruption have I been! How great a portion of my life have I spent wholly without God in the world, given up to sense and the perishing things around me! Naturally of a feeling and sentimental disposition, how much of my religion has been, and to this day is, tinged with these colors of earth! Restrained from open vice by educational views and the fear of man, how much ungodliness has reigned within me! How often has it broken through all restraints, and come out in the shape of lust and anger, mad ambitions, and unhallowed words! Though my vice was always refined, yet how subtile and how awfully prevalent it was! How complete a test was the Sabbath--spent in weariness, as much of it as was given to God's service! How I polluted it by my hypocrisies, my self-conceits, my worldly thoughts, and worldly friends! How formally and unheedingly the Bible was read,--how little was read,--so little that even now I have not read it all! How unboundedly was the wild impulse of the heart obeyed! How much more was the creature loved than the Creator!--O great God, that didst suffer me to live whilst I so dishonored Thee, Thou knowest the whole; and it was thy hand alone that could awaken me from the death in which I was, and was contented to be. Gladly would I have escaped from the Shepherd that sought me as I strayed; but He took me up in his arms and carried me back; and yet He took me not for anything that was in me. I was no more fit for his service than the Australian, and no more worthy to be called and chosen. Yet why should I doubt? not that God is unwilling, not