is present life.
It is in view of this he counsels "Remember thy Creator in the days of
thy youth," whilst the effect of time is to mature, and not destroy,
the powers He has given thee: for not forever will life's enjoyment
last; old age comes surely, and He who made thee, holds thy spirit in
His hand, so that whilst the body may return to dust, the spirit must
return to Him who gave it.

We will only pause for a moment again to admire the glorious elevation
of this counsel. How good were it if the remembrance of a Creator-God,
to whom all are accountable, could tone, with out quenching, the fire
and energy of youthful years, and lead in the clean paths of
righteousness. But, alas, how inadequate to meet the actual state of
things. Solomon himself shall serve to illustrate the utter inadequacy
of his own counsel. What comfort or hope could he extract from it?
His were now already the years in which he must say "I have no pleasure
in them." A more modern poet might have voiced his cry,--

"My age is in the yellow leaf,
The bud, the fruit of 'life,' is gone:
The worm, the canker, and the grief,
Remain alone!"

His youth was no more: its bright days were forever past, never to be
restored. What remains, then, for Solomon, and the myriads like him?
What shall efface the memory of those wasted years, or what shall give
a quiet peace, in view of the fast-coming harvest of that wild sowing?
Can Reason--can any human Wisdom--find any satisfactory answer to these
weighty questions? _None_!

Verses 2 to 7 beautifully and poetically depict the fall of the city of
man's body under the slow but sure siege of the forces of Time.
Gradually, but without one moment's pause, the trenches approach the
walls. Outwork after outwork falls into the enemy's hands, until he is
victor over all, and the citadel itself is taken.

Verse 2.--First, clouds come over the spirit: the joyousness of life is
dulled,--the exuberance of youth is quenched. Sorrow follows quickly
on the heel of sorrow,--"clouds return after rain." Those waves that
youth's light bark rode gallantly and with exhilaration, now flood the
laboring vessel and shut out the light--the joy--of life.

Verse 3.--Then the hands (the keepers of the house) tremble with
weakness, and the once strong men (the knees) now feeble, bend under
the weight of the body they have so long borne. The few teeth
(grinders) that may remain fail to do their required