The Arrest of Premature Old-Age

‘s Her sun is gone down while it was yet day.” — Jmx. xv. 9.

HERE is a sadness about all premature things — even where the thing is in itself good. I do not think that the spectacle of a precocious child is quite free from sadness. Fair as manhood is, and much as we desire that one day the child should become a man, we do not like to see a premature birth of the man; it detracts from our interest in the child. But if even with bright things prematurity repels, what shall we say of sombre things! If we do not wish to see a meridian sun at dawn, what shall we say of beholding the evening shades at noonday! There is no spectacle so sad as premature old-age. When I speak of old-age, I mean the age of the spirit. There are souls which lose their youth early in the day. There are hearts which are bereft of their elastic

spring while it is yet morning. It need not be a grief which causes it; I think it is oftener the failure to find an imaginary joy. Youth’s heart is often chilled because it sees not, without, the fairyland which it feels within. It is rather disappointed with the world than disappointed by the world. It is not that something possessed is broken; it is that something expected has not come. The cry of youth is not “They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him”; it is rather “Where is the promise of His coming!” It is the weeping, not over fiowers that are faded, but over flowers that never bloomed. That is the sorrow of youth, the care of youth, the tearfulness of youth; it is that which often makes youth old before its time.

Lord, save the young from this danger of a premature old-age! Thou alone canst save them, for Thou alone canst fulfil their dream. Nature cannot fulfil their dream; it has nothing to correspond to their high ideal. In the visions of fancy they have seen a form of perfect beauty; but in the world of reality they have sought it in vain. It is not reached by the things around them. It is brighter than the sun. It is more to be desired than gold, than the finest gold. It is sweeter than the honeycomb. It is fairer than the children of men. The waking world attains not the glory of the night watches, and youth grows old amidst it because she misses her dream. But Thou canst fulfil that dream, O Lord; Thou canst reveal to youth the reality of fancy’s picture. Show her the living Christ! Show her that there is with Thee an image which is altogether lovely! Show her that Thou holdest in Thy bosom what eye hath not seen and ear hath not heard! Tell her that Thou canst revive her drooping fiower! Tell her that her dream was no delusion, her fancy no fiction! Tell her that the beautiful image she beheld in the night watches was no phantom of the brain! Tell her that her ideal is coming, that her desire will be satisfied! She wants her romance made true; if she found it true, the white locks would vanish and the birds would sing again. indicate her visions, O Lord! Restore the romance of the morning! Defend the sanity of the dream! Reveal the reality of that music which ushered in her day! When she sees the face of Christ she will be a child once more.