Luke 2:25-32. Now there was a man named SIMEON who lived in Jerusalem. He was a righteous man and very devout. He was filled with the Holy Spirit, and he eagerly expected the Messiah to come and rescue Israel. The Holy Spirit had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord's Messiah. That day the Spirit led him to the Temple. So when Mary and Joseph came to present the baby Jesus to the Lord as the law required, Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying, "Lord, now I can die in peace! As you promised me, I have seen the Savior you have given to all people. He is a light to reveal God to the nations, and he is the glory of your people Israel!"

Simeon occupies, in sacred story, a place peculiar to himself. He is the Melchizedek of this transition-period--the connecting link between the Mosaic and the Gospel dispensations--telling by significant word and act, that "all old things" were "passing away" and all things becoming "new!"

We may regard him, moreover, as the "representative man" of the pious remnant of Israel of that age. He had long been sitting, an earnest student, at the feet of the prophets who had testified of Christ; or standing, like the mother of Sisera at the window, with the roll of Micah in his hand, and straining his eyes towards Bethlehem, he had been asking, in prayerful expectation, "Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariot?"

But he can afford, also, to resign himself patiently to the will of God. This he knew, that that great event waited for by all time, must be close at hand; for he had personally received a divine promise, that his eyes should not be sealed in death, until gladdened with the glorious vision which many saints and wise men of old had "desired to see, but were not permitted!" At length are his hopes and prayers gloriously realized. "The Desire of all nations," according to the latest prophetic intimation, has "come." "The Lord," whom the devout Israelite had long sought, "suddenly comes to his temple," and, in the person of a little child, "fills it with his glory!" (Mal. 3:1.) With the infant Babe in his arms, and the tear of joy and gratitude in his eye, he is permitted to take up the strains which for ages past had hung on the lips, and supported the faith of a waiting church--"Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given--and his name shall be called--Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace," the glory of his Church, the Consolation of Israel, the Light of the World! And now, the rejoicing patriarch, with the promised Savior in his arms, and salvation on his tongue, is ready to die.

Let us gaze on this Gospel Sunset with its mellowed glory. Let us gather, in thought, around this hoary-headed sire, and listen to the exulting notes with which he is willing to bid farewell to the world. Well, truly, might he exult. The greatest of the Caesars was then on the throne. But what was that scepter--that rod of empire, he wielded--although the badge of the world's sovereignty--compared to that "rod out of the stem of Jesse," which an old Hebrew clasped in his arms? The throne of Caesar!--it has long ago crumbled--the scepter of Caesar!--it has long ago been broken in pieces by the grasp of contending nations. But Simeon beheld, in these smiles of helpless infancy, the seed of a kingdom that would overthrow all others, and, yet, itself "never be destroyed;" a throne that was to be "established forever," and of "the increase of whose government and peace there was to be no end!" (Isa. 9:7).

It is interesting to mark the occasion of this scene in the temple of Jerusalem, which had brought Mary and the child Jesus from Bethlehem. At the birth of every son, the mother, by the Jewish law, was regarded as ceremonially unclean, and for forty days (as we read in the 12th chapter of Leviticus,) she was permitted to "touch no hallowed thing, nor come into the sanctuary." She was enjoined thereafter, to carry a sin-offering and a burnt-offering "unto the door of the tabernacle of the congregation, to the priest," who was to "offer it before the Lord, and make an atonement for her." "When the days of her purifying are fulfilled, for a son, or for a daughter, she shall bring a lamb of the first year for a burnt-offering, or a young pigeon, or a turtle-dove, for a sin-offering." And in the case of those whose extreme poverty and lowly condition did not permit of this costlier sacrifice, it was sufficient for them to bring a humbler one--"And if she be NOT able to bring a lamb, then she shall bring two turtle-doves, or two young pigeons; the one for the burnt-offering, and the other for a sin-offering--and the priest shall make an atonement for her, and she shall be clean," (ver. 8.)

What a touching delineation is here given of the Savior's lowly state and poverty! Mary coming up to the temple to offer the accustomed sacrifices, "according to that which is said in the law of the Lord," "a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons." But where is the lamb for the burnt-offering? Has her meek spirit already forgot the thanksgivings of that hour of unexpected joy, when in exulting strains she thus poured out the emotions of an overflowing heart--"My soul does magnify the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden--for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. He that is mighty has done to me great things?" (Luke 1:48-49.) No! Her lowly estate cannot afford "the lamb for the burnt-offering"--and in its stead she must substitute the gracious alternative provided for the poor of the people, "a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons!"

It is from such incidental circumstances as these, those minuter incidents which crowd His mysterious pilgrimage of love--that we obtain the most affecting displays of the Redeemer's humiliation. At one time, we behold Him a homeless wanderer, who, when "every man went unto his own house, Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives" (John 7:53)--(when there was a home for every one in Jerusalem, there was no home for Him!) Again, as a weary, toil-worn pilgrim, exhausted and fatigued with his journey, He is seated by a well on the way-side, asking a cup of cold water from a poor sinner whom He had redeemed with His blood (John 4:6); and here, we contemplate a lowly woman, bending before the temple-gate, and telling to all around, by the humble offerings she lays on the altar, that poverty is the birthright of her infant Child!

But we proceed to gather a few beams from this hallowed "sunset"--a few thoughts from this closing chapter in Simeon's life, as delineated in the sacred narrative.

We have there presented, A BEAUTIFUL EPITOME OF THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. And though his spiritual graces were called into lively exercise by what was presented immediately to sight, that same glorious reality remains to us still an object of faith, which we may appropriate as really and as substantially as Simeon did!

Observe, I. THE OBJECT OF ALL HIS JOY--it was "seeing Christ the Lord."

To see God! what an honor! The, highest Archangel in heaven knows no higher! It was the culminating prayer of Moses of old, "I beseech you, show me your glory." The prayer was answered--but how? The honored servant of God was hid in a rocky cleft; and the hand of God covered his face, as the terribleness of the divine Majesty swept by; for, said He, "no man can see my face and live." But here, a devout Hebrew, who trod in the footsteps of Moses' faith, is permitted to gaze on the God-man unconsumed. His glory is veiled under a garb of humanity. God is "in very deed dwelling with man on the earth"--"Great is the mystery of godliness; God manifest in the flesh." Yes! Simeon stands in the magnificent shrine of which Haggai and Malachi spoke. The glory of Solomon's house, with all the gold of Ophir, and all the wealth of Lebanon, and the lavish splendor of Tyrian handicraft, fades into nothing by reason of the new consecration it has received from that "Infant of days." "The glory of this latter house" is "greater than the glory of the former." Let its veil be torn! let its dim altar-fires be quenched! Let it not bewail its missing Shekinah, or cling to its melting shadows. The types have given place to the great Antitype. The advent-hour is striking--"Lift up your heads, O you gates, that the King of glory may come in," chimes from the temple-towers. The Lord truly was in that place, though a scoffing world knew it not--"it was none other than the House of God, and the gate of heaven."

The object of the joy of every genuine believer is the same as that of Simeon--"Christ the Lord." True, indeed, that Savior is changed in His outward state or condition. The infant Babe, whom the aged man folded in his arms, is now seated on a mediatorial throne, wielding the scepter of universal empire. The earthly Temple in which He stood, is exchanged for the magnificent sanctuary above, where every knee is at this moment bending, and every tongue confessing that He is "Lord to the glory of God the Father." But though no longer an object of contemplation to the natural eye, His heart changes never--"Whom having not seen, we love; in whom, though now we see him not, yet believing," (like Simeon) "we rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory," (1 Pet. 1:8).

And as Jesus, the Object of faith, is the same to the believer now, as he was to this Saint of old; so will every soul, which has felt the burden of sin, be equally prepared to hail Him as "the Consolation of Israel." The world had been longing for its Lord; it was growing weary of its sins and sorrows; all the remedies philosophy and civilization had applied, had failed to erase one furrow from its brow, or bind up one of its bleeding wounds. Woe-worn humanity had been sighing for four thousand years for a Deliverer. The Jewish Church--the godly remnant of God's covenant people--were also panting for a brighter day. The nation's altars were blazing with unhallowed fire; a general apostasy prevailed; many a holy saint sat in ashes, amid a sadder spiritual desolation than that of the prophet who uttered the plaintive soliloquy, "How deserted lies the city, once so full of people!" (Lam. 1:1.)

But the great Consoler has appeared! the footfall of the great Physician is heard--the Lord has come! "He shall speak peace to his people and to his saints!"

What Christ was to the believing Jewish remnant collectively, He still is to His believing people individually. In every possible variety of condition and circumstance; in all their needs and sorrows, their afflictions, their sufferings, their temptations and fears, this is the blessed "name with which he is called"--"the Consolation of Israel."

Are there any who peruse these pages, overwhelmed under a sense of sin, which they feel too heavy for them to bear, and which is almost leading them to despair of pardon? Christ is "Consolation" for you. These are His precious words, "Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," (Matt. 11:28).

Are there any who are struggling with the corruptions of their own evil hearts--who feel the power of indwelling iniquity dragging them to the dust in spite of all their efforts to soar heavenwards--temptations so assailing them, as ofttimes to extort the cry of agony, "O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me?" Christ is "Consolation" for you. Hear His own blessed promise, "My grace is sufficient for you; for my strength is made perfect in weakness," (2 Cor. 12:9).

Are there any who are experiencing seasons of darkness and depression, who are sighing in vain over the loss of hours of holy joy and peace, whose memory is now all the remains--any who are tempted, in the despondency of their hearts, to say with mourning Zion, "My God has forsaken me, and my Lord has forgotten me?" Christ is "Consolation" also, for you. These are His own gracious words, "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? She may forget, yet will I not forget you," (Isa. 49:15). "Return, you backsliding children, and I will heal your backsliding," (Jer. 3:12).

Are there any who have been called to pass through the furnace of affliction--who are mourning over the wreck of some beloved earthly joy--some cup of 'earthly' consolation which has been dashed from their lips, and with it all their hopes of earthly happiness? Oh, Christ is "Consolation", for you. These are among the last words which dropped from His lips before He gave the great, the omnipotent pledge of His love--"I will not leave you comfortless; I will come unto you," (John 14:18).

But why need we swell the catalogue of a Savior's consolations? There is not a wounded bosom on earth for which "there is not balm in Gilead, and a Physician there." Christ is "THE consolation"--"the God of all consolation." He has a remedy for every evil--an antidote for every sorrow--a cordial for every heart--a hand of love to wipe every weeping eye--a heart of tenderness to sympathize with every sorrowful bosom--an arm of power to protect--a rod of love to chasten--immutable promises to encourage on earth--an unfading crown to bestow in heaven--strength to bestow in the hour of weakness--courage in the hour of danger--faith in the hour of darkness--comfort in the hour of sorrow--victory in the hour of death!

The world's consolations! What are they in comparison to this? Test them in the time when they are needed most, and they will be found to be the first to give way--broken reeds--the sport of every tempest that desolates the heart. But here, O tempest-tossed, here is "your Consolation," emphatically "THE consolation"--for the consolations of Christ are those alone which are independent of all times and circumstances, all vicissitudes and changes--which avail alike in prosperity and adversity, in joy and sorrow, in health and sickness, in life and death. No, the drearier the desert, the sweeter and more refreshing are the streams of consolation of which He calls us to partake. The darker and gloomier the night of earthly woe, the more gladsome is it when this great Day-star of "CONSOLATION" is made to arise!

II. Let us note the CHARACTER given of this aged man.

He was "just and devout"--"just" to man, and "devout" to God; implying a scrupulous observance of both tables of the law--a beautiful combination--the result of an active, living, influential faith--"working by love, purifying the heart, and overcoming the world." Here is the secret of all true morality and holy living. Never let it be said that the tendency of the doctrine of free forgiveness is to turn the grace of God into licentiousness, and give permission to sin with impunity! What does experience testify? Is it not that the holiest and humblest--those most distinguished by lofty integrity to man, and close and habitual walking with God, are they who are looking most simply and undividedly to Christ as their only ground of hope and assurance, who, like Simeon, have taken Him in the arms of their faith, and embraced Him as "all their salvation and all their desire?" It was the same mighty, constraining influence, in his case prospective, in ours retrospective, which leads us thus to judge, that "Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. " (2 Cor. 5:14, 15).

III. Observe the special Christian grace in the character of Simeon called into exercise with reference to the great object of his hopes. He is represented as "WAITING"--"waiting for the Consolation of Israel."

He had again and again gone, like the lone watcher on the mountain-top, to catch the first glimpse of the rising beam. Often, we may well believe, had he climbed, with pilgrim-staff, the steeps of Zion, and planted himself by the temple-gates, to hail the entrance of the promised King, saying, in the words of one of the old songs of Zion--"My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning." Nor would he abandon these holy watchings until he could joyfully exclaim, "Lo! this is our God; we have waited for him," (Isa. 25:9).

"Waiting." This is a compound virtue. It is made up of the two Christian graces, Faith and Patience. When a man waits, it implies, first of all, belief in the reality of the object of his expectation. He believes it to have a real existence, and that eventually it shall be his. But it implies also uncertainty as to the time of the fulfillment of its hopes; the possibility of a period of suspense and anxiety intervening before the object of his wishes can be attained.

No child of God can be ignorant of this twin Christian grace. Every redeemed soul in yonder heaven knows of it; for it is expressly said, that, from Abel downwards, it is "through FAITH and PATIENCE they are now inheriting the promises." Think how many and how precious are the assurances the Bible gives to waiting Christians. "The Lord is good to those who WAIT for him," (Lam. 3:25). "WAIT on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart," (Ps. 27:14). We found in a previous chapter that aged Jacob's dying words of exultation and joy were these--"I have WAITED for your salvation, O God."

It were easy for God to give an immediate answer to the prayers of His people; by snapping all at once every chain of sin or suffering, to usher them into the glorious liberty of His children. But He would have them learn a lesson of dependence on Himself--of trust and submission--of resignation and patience. He would have "weeping" and "waiting" to "endure for the night," that they might value all the more "the joy" which shall assuredly come "in the morning." Yes, their waiting time here, though often doubtless a trying time, will, in the light of eternity, be seen and confessed to be a precious time; a gracious part of the cross, which, in the case of every redeemed child of God, must precede the crown. How will not the blessedness of that world of unbroken rest be enhanced, by the trials and struggles, the tossings and tribulations which went before; when life's tempestuous sea, wherein faith and patience were often well-near shipwrecked, is exchanged for that haven of peace, where not one wave of trouble is ever after to roll!

IV. Let us note how Simeon was brought at this time into the Temple.

He came "by the Spirit." We read, in the previous verse, that "the Holy Spirit was upon him;" and without the Spirit's influences, none of these lofty Christian graces could have been his. On entering its courts, what does he find there? A lowly woman with an infant babe. No mystic star, no angelic host is there, to proclaim His glory. Yet the Holy Spirit opens the aged saint's eyes, and tells him to behold in that helpless Child, the Savior of mankind.

The ordinances of God are the Temple to which believers are still summoned to behold their Lord. The House of prayer is such a Temple. The power and glory of God have, in the experience of His people in all ages, been "seen in the sanctuary." "The Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob" (Ps. 87:2); and it is His own gracious declaration, "I will make them joyful in my house of prayer," (Isa. 56:7).

The Bible is such a Temple. Unlike that in which Simeon stood, whose holiest courts were open only to a favored few, it is patent to every worshiper. Glorious temple it is! God's own words its living stones; His immutable promises its pillars; His oath and covenant its foundations; its walls salvation; its gates praise; Jesus Christ its corner-stone; prophets, and apostles, and saints its high-priests, giving forth the responses of Deity!

But what will all the glories of either temple be to us, unless, like Simeon, we be led there of the Holy Spirit? Without His influence, we shall find a deserted sanctuary. We may have the name of Jesus on our lips, and His praises on our tongue; but without the Spirit of God, there will be "no beauty that we should desire him," (Isa. 53:2). Many other worshipers were doubtless in the temple of Jerusalem when Simeon entered, and who gazed with him on the infant Child; but it was he alone who had come forth from communion with his God, and on whom the Spirit was, who "beheld his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth," (John 1:14).

Let the prayer of Moses ever be ours, before entering the holy ground of ordinances, "If your presence," O Spirit of God! "go not with us, carry us not up hence," (Exod. 33:15). Remember that "no man can say that Jesus is Lord but by the Holy Spirit," (1 Cor. 12:3).

V. Observe next, THE CONSUMMATION OF HIS FAITH--"Then took he him up in his arms."

What a moment of ecstasy was this! The day on which his hopes, and wishes, and prayers had long been centered, had now at last arrived. He of whom Isaiah had sung as "the Hope of Israel," was now its "Consolation!" "My eyes have seen your salvation!" The waiting-time of the saint is now at an end; and, with the promised Child in his embrace, he can look forward to a peaceful departure. What glowing emotions, in this hour of joy, must have been kindled in his heart! That great "mystery of godliness," of which seers had sung--the theme of the types, and prophecies, and hopes, and longings of ages--"the seed of the woman"--the promised "Shiloh"--"the Star of Judah"--"the hiding place from the storm"--"the Branch" whose "leaves were for the healing of the nations"--"the fountain to be opened for David's house"--"the Desire of all nations"--"the Prince of Peace"--is now folded in his arms.

But the aged Israelite, in these moments of exultation, is carried by inspiration down the vista of coming ages; and fresh visions of glory crowd up from the future. National bigotry can find no place in a heart overflowing like his. He knows no distinction between Jew and Gentile. With the true Christian and expansive spirit of the dawning gospel dispensation, he looks forward to the time when men of every nation, and kindred, and people, and tongue, shall kiss the scepter of this anointed Child, and confess him to be "King of kings, and Lord of lords"--"My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel," (Luke 2:30-32).

It forms a fine picture, to watch the sunset radiance--the last visions which crowd and linger around the evening of this old man's days. He is standing on the borders of the grave. Earth seems receding, and heaven in view. But where are his thoughts? not on himself, but on the 'Light of the world'--on that day when the Sun of Righteousness was to arise on the nations with "healing in his beams," and when "Gentiles should come to his light, and kings to the brightness of his rising," (Isa.)

It is a missionary prayer which forms the last breathings of the departing saint. It reminds us of the concluding strain which rose from the harp of the royal Psalmist of Israel. It was a magnificent anthem over a regenerated world--a prayer, not for Israel, but for mankind. "Let the whole earth be filled with his glory"--then, then only, could he close the fervent aspirations of his soul--then, then only, when he had commended the cause of A WORLD to God, could he add--"The prayers of David the son of Jesse are ended," (Psalm. 72:19, 20).

So it was with Simeon. He holds the Messiah forth, in his withered arms, by a symbolic action, to the whole world. As if he had said, "Take Him, you nations! Israel's glory is now to wane. The mission of the peculiar people is ended. The gates of the old economy are now to be shut, after being opened for two thousand years. The portico of the wide world is now to be unclosed! Gentiles, meet him with your hosannas! Come, Sheba and Seba, and offer him your gifts! Come, Ethiopia, strike off your iron fetters, and stretch out your hands unto God! Distant isles of the ocean, prepare His diadem--'crown him Lord of all.' Ships of Tarshish, spread your sails for a costlier freight, and nobler mission--carrying apostles from shore to shore with 'the unsearchable riches of Christ!' Let the kingdoms of the earth 'sing praises to this King;'--for that holy Church, which is now trodden by my tottering steps, is henceforth by Him to be made 'a house of prayer for ALL nations.'"

That which formed the consummation of Simeon's faith, is the consummation of ours also--taking Jesus in our arms! Happier the soul cannot be, than when it is enabled to lay hold on Christ as "all its salvation." Simeon having seen his Lord, his hopes could go no further. Earth could give no more, and the aged man seeks no more. And so with the believer still. When he gets Christ as his portion, he needs no other--he seeks no other. His language is, "Whom have I in heaven but you, and there is none upon earth that I desire beside you;" for, in point of fact, in thus by faith appropriating the Savior, all worth calling a portion becomes his--"the world," "life," "death," "things present," "things to come," the light of God's countenance, the sweets of His friendship, the smile of His love--assurances outweighing the wealth of worlds.

Observe, finally, Simeon having seen and embraced Christ, is PREPARED TO DIE. "Now, Lord, let you your servant depart in peace, according to your word."

Not that he wearied of life. If God had willed it, he would cheerfully have remained to be a sharer with Christ in His sufferings, before being a partaker of His crown. But the divine promise, that death should not seal his eyes until he had seen the Savior, was fulfilled. He had now no longer any assurance of continued life, and he could fall asleep whenever his faithful Lord saw fit to take him.

Reader, having embraced your Lord by faith, are you ready to die? With a Savior in your arms, is the King of Terrors to you vanquished? and are you prepared, when it is the will of God, to depart? But mistake not. There may be some ready and willing to breathe, in one sense, Simeon's prayer--"Lord, let me depart in peace." If not at this present moment, you may, in times past, have experienced seasons, when, weary of the world, life seemed a burden, and death was coveted and longed for as a welcome relief. In hours of sadness and desolation, when some fond earthly hope has been leveled with the ground--some cup of earthly happiness dashed from the lips--some lacerating disappointment, some instance of deep ingratitude, or faithless friendship occurred--in such an hour as this, you may have often felt a longing to be done with the world, and tempted to exclaim with David, "Oh that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest," (Ps. 55:6).

But mark! Simeon's prayer was a prayer uttered, not in an hour of wretchedness, but in one of holiest and most rapturous joy--the most hallowed hour that had ever dawned on him.

It was the sight of the promised Redeemer that disarmed death of its terrors, and made him alike content to live, or willing to die. With a Savior-God in his arms, come what might, the aged saint was ready to meet it all.

Learn here, the great secret of calm composure and joy in death--a cleaving closely to Christ. Simeon was "just and devout;" and doubtless as he had lived holy, so would he, in very proportion, die happy. But the "justness" and "devoutness" of his character could not, by themselves, have smoothed his death-pillow. Many there are who thus may be said to die in peace--who can look back on lives of comparative moral purity, unstained, it may be, by any very gross or glaring violation of God's law--just in all their dealings with their fellow-men--faithful in the discharge of life's relative duties--amiability and benevolence may have followed their footsteps, and in the world's estimation and their own, heaven is all secure. And yet they may all the while be whispering to themselves, "Peace, peace, when there is no peace." It may be a delusive dream--a false slumber of self-security. Amiability of character--lofty moral virtues--will prove, in a dying hour, poor preparatives for a throne of judgment.

But, united to Christ by a living faith, we can, with this aged saint, stand on the very borders of eternity, with the declaration on our lips that we are ready, whenever it is the will of God, to depart in peace. "Jesus! Jesus!" that is the magic word the dying man loves! Jesus!--How sweet that name sounds! what music is there in it!--when the recollection of all other names, (yes, that of wife, children, sister, brother,) has faded away. "Jesus!" It is a green spot in the wasteland of memory! When all other earthly props and fastenings have given way, and the mind is drifting like a vessel broken loose from its moorings--"Jesus!" That anchor secures it. The arms that can clasp nothing else, can clasp a living Redeemer, and the lips can exclaim, "Now Lord, let me depart in peace!"

We have all heard of "triumphant death-beds," here is the secret of them--"triumphant death-songs," here is the key-note of them. Let us learn the first notes of that song now, that when we come to a dying hour, we may sing it with unfaltering voice--having then nothing to do, but to die, with Christ in the arms of our faith, and salvation thrilling on our tongues. "Jesus! Jesus!" It has been the one passport to white-robed myriads at the gate of heaven! It was the name they last uttered on their dying couches. They were heard singing it through the dark valley--they have carried it with them before the throne. Let it be our firm resolution, in a strength greater than our own, that that name shall be all our boast; "that whether we live we will live unto the Lord; or whether we die we will die unto the Lord," that thus, whether living or dying, we may be His, that, having Simeon's FAITH, we may at last be sharers in Simeon's CROWN, and with him look forward from a death full of peace, to an immortality full of glory.

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