This uncertainty as to the end of life, and of the gift of final perseverance, all holy souls have felt. To die in the friendship of God, and thence to enjoy His presence forever, is a gift of so transcendent a nature, so far above our natural powers and utmost deserts that no creature, which can at all conceive it, would dare claim it as a right. It was this conviction that made the saints tremble to think of it. This it was that prompted St. Paul to admonish the Philippians to work out their salvation with fear and trembling,(73) and that also evoked from the same Apostle those candid words concerning himself: “I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection; lest, perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway.”(74) And have we not sometimes witnessed instances which, so far as man can judge, give ground for this fear as to perseverance, and emphasize the great truth that to die in God’s favor is, indeed, a singular and a gratuitous gift? How many have we not known who started well, but terminated ill! How many are innocent and holy in youth and give every promise of splendid manhood, but fade and drop, like poisoned flowers, ere the age of maturity has dawned! How many are able to pass through the most critical period of their lives, unshaken and undefiled, full of faith, hope, love, purity; but who, when the age of security is thought to have come, lose the grip which seemed so firm, turn to evil, yield to vicious habits, and die reprobates of God! Look at King Solomon! Who was ever more promising than he in his youth? Who ever gave fairer prospects of continued holiness and of a beautiful end? He was so lovely, so amiable, so favored of God in the morning of life; graced with such high perfections, not knowing evil, a stranger to vice, a lover of sanctity, of wisdom, and of grace. It would seem that he could never fall—he who was the object of such unwonted favors, who dwelt so supremely in the smile of Heaven. But lo, and behold the end of him who had received so many graces, who chose wisdom as his handmaid that he might be guided aright! Behold that youthful figure, so full of promise and goodly hope, praying to God that he might never deviate from the ways of grace; and then see the gray-haired apostate tottering to the grave, borne down by the weight of his sins and of his years! And how many more there have been, like King Saul, like Renan and Voltaire, and numerous others that we ourselves perhaps have known, who were great and good in youth, and for a term of years, but whose end was a miserable failure!