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The rich have afflictions as well as the poor. We read of a nobleman in deep anxiety because his son was sick. We need not doubt that every means of restoration was used that money could procure. But money is not almighty. The sickness increased, and the nobleman’s son lay at the point of death. The lesson is one which needs to be constantly impressed on the minds of men. There is no more common, or more mischievous error, than to suppose that the rich have no cares. The rich are as liable to sickness as the poor; and have a hundred anxieties beside, of which the poor know nothing at all. Silks and satins often cover very heavy hearts. The dwellers in palaces often sleep more uneasily than the dwellers in cottages. Gold and silver can lift no man beyond the reach of trouble. They may shut out debt and rags, but they cannot shut out care, disease, and death. The higher the tree, the more it is shaken by storms. The broader its branches, the greater is the mark which it exposes to the tempest. David was a happier man when he kept his father’s sheep at Bethlehem, than when he dwelt as a king at Jerusalem, and governed the twelve tribes of Israel. Let the servant of Christ beware of desiring riches. They are certain cares, and uncertain comforts. Let him pray for the rich, and not envy them. How hardly shall a rich man enter the kingdom of God! Above all, let him learn to be content with such things as he has. He only is truly rich, who has treasure in heaven.

Verse 1

O God, the Rock of Ages,
Who evermore hast been,
What time the tempest rages,
Our dwelling-place serene:
Before Thy first creations,
O Lord, the same as now,
To endless generations
The Everlasting Thou!

Verse 2

Our years are like the shadows
On sunny hills that lie,
Or grasses in the meadows
That blossom but to die;
A sleep, a dream, a story
By strangers quickly told,
An unremaining glory
Of things that soon are old.

Verse 3

O Thou, who canst not slumber,
Whose light grows never pale,
Teach us aright to number
Our years before they fail;
On us Thy mercy lighten,
On us Thy goodness rest,
And let Thy Spirit brighten
The hearts Thyself hast blessed.

Verse 4

Lord, crown our faith’s endeavor
With beauty and with grace,
Till, clothed in light for ever,
We see Thee face to face:
A joy no language measures;
A fountain brimming o’er;
An endless flow of pleasures;
An ocean without shore.

O Lord our Father, Who hast stored for us in Jesus Christ all treasures of wisdom and knowledge and righteousness and power, we bless Thee that the Storehouse is open, that the box has been broken, and the ointment poured forth. We thank Thee for our access to the wealth of God in Christ our Saviour, and we beseech Thee that each of us may fill up our emptiness, and enrich our poverty, and strengthen our weakness by laying hold of, and drawing into the very substance of our lives, the riches of God in Him. We pray for grace that we may be more completely and gladly and constantly receiving of ‘His fulness, grace for grace,’ and that all in us which is low and weak and dark may be lifted, confirmed and enlightened by the inflow into our poor lives of the triumphant risen life of our Saviour. Help us day by day to find that He is made unto us wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and full redemption. And in all our daily conflicts may we have the presence of our Captain, and in all our daily journeyings may we have the guidance of our Leader.