BONAR, D.D.

One of the most esteemed of living Scottish theological writers,
Horatius Bonar, is likewise favourably known as a sacred lyric poet. He
is a native of Edinburgh, where his father, the late James Bonar, Esq.,
a man of eminent piety and accomplished scholarship, held the office of
a Solicitor of Excise. His ancestors for several successive generations
were ministers of the Church of Scotland. He was educated at the High
School and the University of his native city. After engaging for some
time in missionary labour at Leith, he was ordained to the ministry at
Kelso in November 1837, and has since prosecuted his pastoral duties in
that place. His first literary efforts appeared in the shape of
religious tracts, now published in a volume under the title of "The
Kelso Tracts." He next published the work by which he has become most
widely known, "The Night of Weeping," which was followed by other two
works of the same series, "The Morning of Joy," and "The Eternal Day."
Of his subsequent publications, the more conspicuous are, "Prophetical
Landmarks," "The Coming and the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus," "A Stranger
Here," "Man; his Religion and his World," "The Story of Grace," "The
Blood of the Cross," and "The Desert of Sinai, or Notes of a Tour from
Cairo to Beersheba." Dr Bonar was for many years editor of the
_Presbyterian Review_; he now edits _The Quarterly Journal of Prophecy_.
The following spiritual songs, well adapted for music, are from his
volume entitled "Hymns of Faith and Hope."

THE MEETING PLACE.

Where the faded flower shall freshen,
Freshen never more to fade;
Where the shaded sky shall brighten,
Brighten never more to shade:
Where the sun-blaze never scorches,
Where the star-beams cease to chill;
Where no tempest stirs the echoes
Of the wood, or wave, or hill:
Where the morn shall wake in gladness,
And the noon the joy prolong,
Where the daylight dies in fragrance,
'Mid the burst of holy song:
Brother, we shall meet and rest
'Mid the holy and the blest!

Where no shadow shall bewilder,
Where life's vain parade is o'er,
Where the sleep of sin is broken,
And the dreamer dreams no more;
Where the bond is never sever'd,
Partings, claspings, sob and moan,
Midnight waking, twilight weeping,
Heavy noontide, all are done:
Where the child has found its mother,