ng, he was
writing hymns or tracts or books. One of his tracts, "Believe and Live,"
was printed in more than a million copies, and the late Queen Victoria of
England was much blessed by it. His hymns number about 600, and the fact
that at least 100 are in common use today is a testimonial to their
worth. Dr. Bonar never used his hymns in his own church worship, but
when, on a certain occasion near the close of his life, he broke the
rule, two of his elders showed their emphatic disapproval by walking out
of church.

Perhaps the finest hymn we have received from his pen, if we except "I
lay my sins on Jesus," is "I heard the voice of Jesus say." Other
familiar hymns are "Thy works, not mine, O Christ," "Not what my hands
have done," "Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power," "All that I was,
my sin, my guilt," "Thy way, not mine, O Lord," and "A few more years
shall roll."

In 1843 Dr. Bonar married Miss Jane Lundie, and for forty years they
shared joy and sorrow. She, too, was a gifted writer, and it is she who
has given us the beautiful gem, "Fade, fade, each earthly joy."

Sorrow was one of the means used by the Lord to enrich and mellow the
life of Bonar. Five of his children died in early years. It required much
of divine grace in such experiences to write lines like these:

Spare not the stroke; do with us as Thou wilt;
Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred.
Complete Thy purpose, that we may become
Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord.

Bonar himself was sorely afflicted during the last two years of his life.
He died in 1889, deeply mourned by all Scotland as well as by Christians
throughout the world who had come to know him through his tracts and
hymns. At his funeral one of his own hymns was sung. It was written on
the theme of his family motto, "Heaven at Last."

What a city! what a glory!
Far beyond the brightest story
Of the ages old and hoary:
Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Christ Himself the living splendor,
Christ the sunlight mild and tender;
Praises to the Lamb we render:
Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Now, at length, the veil is rended,
Now the pilgrimage is ended,
And the saints their thrones ascended:
Ah, 'tis heaven at last!

Broken death's dread bands that bound us,
Life and victory around us;
Christ, the King, Himself hath crowned us;
Ah, 'tis heaven at last!