Testimony of a Veteran.
By William Covert
In the autumn of 1882, I returned to my home from an adjoining district, to find a call awaiting me, to visit a very aged friend who had visited with me, and attended meetings with us a few years previous to this. When I called upon him I found him blind and nearly helpless. I learned that he had been on life's journey for more than fourscore years. We were led out to speak of the lights and shadows of life, when he gave in substance the following testimony. He said he had long ago buried the wife who had been his companion in early manhood, and his solace and comfort in maturer years. That he had not for years enjoyed the society of any of the friends of the first forty years of his life. Now he did not know of a single individual on the earth with whom he had traveled on life's road in youth or early manhood; he was now standing as a lone sentry—a monument of times not understood by the present generation of mankind—helpless, dependent, and blind. Notwithstanding all these things he said he was happy, for the same God that he worshiped in former times before his eyes had dimmed, or friends had passed away, was as precious to him as he had been at any time for the last sixty years. He could approach the same throne of grace and find the same Jesus there. The same sweet Spirit that softened his heart so many years ago was yet there to enlighten his spiritual eyes and renew the inner man day by day. The same hope that anchored his soul within the vail was still holding fast like a strong cable rope attached to the world beyond, and by this sure fastening he was pulling for the other shore. This gave him light in his darkness and strength in his weakness. This served as a connection with the joys of years gone by, and gave him a foretaste of the sweeter joys yet to come. He testified that the light upon his pathway was brighter and brighter as he was nearing the end of his journey. If there is so much sap in a dry tree, what should there be in a green one? WM. COVERT.