One feels sometimes in prospect of death like the venerable Bede, who, when he had nearly translated the Gospel of St. John, said to the young man who was writing from his dictation, "Write fast, write fast, for I am dying. How far are you now? How many verses remain?"
"So many."
"Quicker, quicker," said he, "write more quickly, quickly for I shall be dying."
When at length he said, "I have come to the last verse," the good old man folded his arms, sung the Doxology, and fell asleep in Jesus.
Quickly brother, quickly, you will never get through the chapter if you do not work and write quickly. Quickly, quickly, your time of dying is so near. Quickly, and then when you have done, if you have worked quickly for Christ, though it is not of debt but of grace, you will be able to say at last, "Lord, now lettest thy servant depart in peace," and with the Doxology on your quivering lip you will go to sing the Doxology in sweeter strains above.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment