Newspaper Page Text
T. D. HAfiUi
VOL lllV.-Vfw Series, Vet. u.
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- tin* Christian ., - , j
The Law of Newspapers.
i -4.,b**fib'n who do <* £iv* e\pr**>* notice- to th# !
.viAtr ;>•¥, r*- ••nUVr#i a-. \Wis£ to contfoae their
!••/.*. J ■*
• :i , t .
l. ts •tillerihert -oriJ'-p -hf>’•iwcootiouancc of their
c-4WMnp**r th-publiehto* may eontietjo to esd them
ntii all arrearage* are paid.* ’ -*-•—*
It*'ibjwUfcre neglect or j-et’uarto sate their ne wc
pap r *froio the office* to which r'uey are directed, they
arc Ket*l i--apoDh!e until they have settled ibc ollls
and or.iercd them diecocti^’jcd..
\. It subscribers teuwT* to other p!*> without in
foriTung the paWi*har* ar.d the newspapers arc scat to
the former directum, they, are held responsible.
5. The fV- -* hare decided that refusing to take
newspaper-” from rbe office or removing and leaving
them rfncaHwf fj*t is evident of intention
si friwid. . ..-> ‘*■ •’ • ‘
B The United rttatea Uonrt* have aleo repeatedly de
cided that a Postmaster- who neglect* to perform his
duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by the
Post Offiee Department, of the negleetof a person to
take from the office newspapers aaarewed to him, ren
der* the PoetmMter liable to the publisher for the *ul
seriptfcm price.
HOW TO HAVE A REVIVAL.
In the days of the Prophet Malachi, re
ligion was in a low state. The people
saw and felt their sad condition. But they
did not see the eanse. nor the remedy.—
Therefore the Lord sent the prophet to
make them known to the people.
The ciruse was then, as at all times, ne
glect of duty, by priefcts and people. By
this neglect* they had made the- services
of thd house of God contemptible. The
priests were first id fault, because it wati
-their business to teach the people. “The
priest’s lips shonld keep knowledge, and
they should seek the law at bi mouth: for
lie is the messenger of the Lord of Hosts.”
But, instead of this, they despised tbe
service of the Temple. It is not said that
they engaged in fanning, or
trading, or speculating, but they honored
some other enqdoyment above the service
“of the. Lord. * *- - ■
The peoplt# were next in fault-. They
offered tbejanui and the stcß for sacrifice,
thus robbing the priests of their support.
They treated the offerings of the Lord as
common things, making them contempti
ble by offering the torn, the lame and the
sick/and then complained of weariness in
the service of the Lord. Just as some
churches starve ami discourage their pas
tors, by their worldliness and inattention,
aud then complain of dull preaching, and
want of interest in the services of the Sab
bath-
To such a pass had this declension ar
rived, tjiat ther religious services became
utterly useless. They might as well leave
the doors of tbe Temple unopened, aud
not kindle a fire upon the altar at all; for
Go.) bad no pleasure in them, and would
not accept an • >fthrmg'at their hands.—
AlasHo what a sad condition is a people *
reduced, when their religious services are j
not pleasing .to God, nor profitable to j
the., selves’- The spirit of piety was tio
God was-ffispieased. -t.le people were j
unhappy, he \44u!h grew .up te profane j
the uarne ot t-Jods love, of j
pleasure) and trifling with serious things, j
hecaorirthc order of the day.
Ns r did the evil stop here# lot motel f- !
c. iaynstico. and all manner of wicked- j
ness followed, a? thev always do, in the j
wake* of irreligion. Turn’ began to say I
that it wjjs of no use to serve God, they |
uttered their onfempt of religion boldly; j
aod as a consequence they, called the proud j
happy?: they exalted wicked men so posts i
of honor, and those who ?.‘t the ‘ • ’ ws of I
God and frour at dcfinr.A. were acrecfo-d }
from merited punishment. As they be- j
came their obligations’ so God, i
they scrupled at no treachery cowards -j
* aeb otlwr. Divorce, for any muse, bv
rarat . the. altar of G*xb v wa£ cov-<
owl wj. nine tears pf forsaken women,
and abandoned, worse than orphaned chil
dren.’ The land ‘was fnlL of oppressors,
and pcvjureis, arid adulterers, and spirit
rappers', and all sorts of impostors; and, as
a consequence, the nation .became weak,
was oppressed and reduced to great mis
ery. VVht a sad picture of religious de- >
cleusion, carried on to its natural conse
quences! . ‘ i • * ‘■
Nor did the evil end here. Theeurae of
God .was upon them, priests ami people.
“I will- even scori a curse upon yea, and
will curse your blessings,” saith God ty
the prophet; “yea, I liavi* cursed them at
reari v, Itecause yo do-not lay it to ireart.”
Tbi? curse had, in a great degree, dried up
their worldly prosperity,. Then* fields
wore not productive, their fruit fell from
the trees prematurely, tl>r produce of tbe
fieids was devoured;'yet still heavies.ears
t:. were threatened.
In this terrible picture of neglect of du
ty, decline in religion, and consequent
unholv teaching, social disorder, profanity
i .... 4-a y -’jl “?i ; • • “""^
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•'* <• . , ♦V.K ■ * -i. ~ * ■ -•*” - ‘ r - T ANARUS • *'* i ***. . “* rvMHr.’ .?•;*. Luf V **•'♦•-"** >*.-- v "* • v. ■ *',*,
•^■■^—- - -.-I- ——— ~~~-—-■- • •- - ■ “i 1 r.'Ki i* : "t .1—■—i t ~~ -- .jf. •-.- -'-. >.
! with fearful .-.-vcri-V. -A no now, O
j*prießtß. this commandinent ift fW jac. If
j ye wiu not hear, anti if .ye will npt lay it
i.to heart, to gfre - glory unto my name,
LaaTfh the lLora of lrot4, ixshold I will eor
■ rapt your Boed'and spioftd dung upon y6ar
! faces.” ‘*¥ are departed out of the way;
J ye faavo caused mam’ to stumble at the
! law; ye eo*ropted the covenant of
| Levj, Baitl|, the,Lord <m’ Hosts; Therefore
i ha7e I made you contemptible and base
fbefore all tbe people, according as ye have
i not kept tny wavs, i>at have been partial
! in the law.” Such are some of the conse
i -juencee of neglect of dnty on the part of
! those who are called to minister in holy
things. The priests dishonored God, mis
led, and thus corrupted the people; the
people learned to despise the service of
God, and to cheat the priests; and God
punished them all.
And what a sin is charged against them!
A qneSti'lf i? aked, which is fearfullv
startling: “Win a man kob Goo?” fs
there a man whose bhxd does not stand
still in his veins, at that question? Wbaf,
rob that God in whose hand his life and
breath is, who searches all his hkfden
thoughts, who rnleß in heaven and earth?
“ Yet ye have robted rue;' I'* 1 '* is his charge
against them, “ye have robbed me, even
this whole nation.” This was their sin.
This was the cause of their miseries. No
wonder that religion was at a low ebb.—
No wonder they robbed one another. A
man who begins by robbing God, is likely
to carry on bis sin by robbiug his neighbor,
and finish it by boing robbed of all that
can make existence a blessing.
But what did this robbing of God con
sist in? Did those Jews plunder heaven?
DI F they tear up its golden pavements,
pluck away the preciohs stones from the
foundations of the city; and lay furtive
hands on the emerald around his throne?
No: nor did they steal tbe precious things
in His temple on earth, nor carry off the
articles consecrated to Ilia worship ! How
then did they rob God? How? “In. tithes
and ofeeetngs.” But they had not the
right to do as they pleased? No: that is
the very thing that they did. But God
calls it robbery. The tithes .and offerings
were his. But were thej’ not for the sup
port of the priests? Yes. Bat for that. <
reason they were the Lord’s property. — ,i
And to rob the priests of .that which God !
has appointed, is to F r the !
same God who appointed (tlieS priests, up- j
pointed their support. . - > s f j
But great as was their sin, the Lord say.-, j
to them, “Tleturn unto me, and I will re- j
unto you.” How kind ! How merci- I
ful! How coU'.Tegcen-Hrrpl Will God re- 1
turn to such a people, if they will return j
to him? He so declares. They inquire f
hoic they shall return. He tolls them to j
restore to him that which they have robb- i
ed. Here are ais words: “Bring yc .all J
the tithes into the storehouse, that there
may be meat in my house, .and prove me
now herewith, saith th:* LoKl of Hosts, if
I will not open to you the windows of
heaven, and pour you out a blessing that
there shall not be room enough to receive
it.” Here are the Lord’s directions, in his I
own words, how to obtain a revival of re- j
ligion. Here is the w hole secret. Here i
is the cause and the cuiy of religious dc \
ch-iioieH. . There can tie no mistake here, j
What lessons may Christians and church.- !
cs learn from it?
1. That dpclenoion in religion is the !
consequence of negleetof duty. God does j
not withdraw from his people till ♦hey j
withdraw from Him. . !
2. That the neglect to make adequate j
pecuniary provision ior the support of rc- !
iigions worship is, always was, always will |
be, the sin of robbing God. It was so un- !
’ der the Jewish dispensation of religion; it i
5? the same sin, greatly exaggerated, under \
the Christian dispensation. The church, j
the individual professor who thus robs j
God, will be dreadfully robbed in return.
Z. That robbing God is a very thi profit- :
able business, even in this life. Blight,’
mildew, wire worm, frosts, hail, !
led and u-t3, rosing speculation?, treachery •
r t. ieiy, wastefulness, inse- ’
! cnriiy <>f unproductiveness, so
cial disorder, relaxation of law r and justice, j
arc the natural consequences of decline in
religion. Let piety die ont of bur laud,
and our free government becomes our
| heaviest curse. We would all flee tosomo
l military despot, some-? cz;u\ or dictator,
’ who might spread over ns tbe.Egis of his
| protection. , c ,
1 f. That Go<l is willing ty forgive, and
so revive his wandering and sinning peo
i p*e, that*they mayUgaiu rejoice in Him.
1 But as the car.t-e of the declension was not
| his unfaithfulness to them, but their with
i drawal from Him. they jrftist return to
I Him if they would be revived.
5. We learn what is to be done, in or
der to return to God. Chrlstiajis must re
t store to God that of which they .have rol>-
i bed him. They must honor his worship
! with a competent support, “Tithes ami
V offerings” are something more substantial
; : fliau confessions and prayers. It is prop
} erty of which they have robbed God. A
(people who make -so. provision for the 3 Hit
port of the ministry, or who estimate it
i by its oheapneim, need nut expect a revival.
* There is nothing in them to revive, unless
T, their covetousness. God will not honor.
: etcb a people.
g —— p
Penfirtd. Georgia, Thursday, April 3, 1858.
il ’. .6. We see that a starved ministry be- j
comes, necessarily, ft and worthless \
one. Better have none at all. Better not j
open the house of God, as the prophet
Malacbi fold the Jews, than to open it for \
a useless *. t . -
7. That in religious declension niinistcrt
and people are both to blame, the minis ‘
ters especially, if they have neglected to j
teach tne-pcOple their duty. “The priest’s i
lips should keep knowledge.” If he does !
not, he dishonors tbe office, and God will j
dishonor him. He told the faithless j
priests in the days of Malachi, that he j
would spread the dung of tbe sacrifices on j
their faces. Let unfaithful ministers be- ;
ware.
8. We see how erroneously those church
es reason who expect that a revival of re
ligion will set all things right, remove
their difficulties, heal their divisions, su
persede the necessity of scriptural chureh
discipline, and build up tbe church. This
is putting the effect for the cause. We
are not to look for a revival in prefer to
help us do our dnty, hut to do our duty
that we may have a revival. We must
take the stumbling blocks out of the way.
A chureh that has left its first love, must
repent and do the first works. “Return
unto me, and I will return unto you.” We
rnnst set the church in order, remove of
fences, cast out tbe unsanctified and the
unclean, separate tbe precious from the
vile, strengthen the things that remain,
that are ready to die, confess our sins one
to another, and pray one for another, if
we expect to be revived. That is God’s
method of revival. It does not necessari
ly require protracted meetings, anxious
seats, inquiry meetings, a revival preach
er, an eloqnent preacher, or a great preach
er. It requires that the house of God lie
set in order, that it may be fitted for a re
vival.
lb We see how bountifully God will
bless bis people, when they prepare tbe
way. “I will open the windows of leav
en.” Think of that; Would it not be a
glorious sight to see? But not only so; “I
will pour yon out a blessing till there be
not room to receive more.” Could any
greater promise be given? Christian,
would you like to share that promise?—
Pastor, do yon desire such a blessing on
your people? Then set about the duty
which God has .commanded, and look is
humble faith to Him for his blessing. —
Western Watchman.
DO ONTO OTEEHS A3 YE WOULD HAVE
OTHERS DO UNTO YOU-
A correspondent of the Blair county
(Pennsylvania) Whig, furnishes that pa
per with the particulars of the following
interesting incident of which he whs ail
eye-witness. !♦ occurred a few years ago
on the line of the great internal improve
ments of that S*Me.- It was one of-tho3e
scenes of genuine kind-heartedness which
fill the mind with the involuntary con
sciousness that there is “something of the
.angel still in our com non nature.”
At the point this side of the mountain,
where occurred the transhipment of pas
sengers from the West, wan moored a ca
nal boat, awaiting the arrival of the train
ere starting on its way through to the East.
The captain of the boat, a tall, rough, sun
embrowned man, stood by his craft, super
intending the labors of his men, when the
cars rolled np, and a few moments after, a
party of about half a dozen gentlemen
came out, and deliberately walking up to
the captain, addressed him something after !
this wise : ‘ . I
“sir, we wish to go un east, but our far i
tlier progress to-day depend? on you. In ;
the cars we have just left a rick man,
whose presence is disagreeable. We have
been appointed a committee by the pas
sengers to ask that you will deny this man
a passage in your boat. If he goes, we
remain; what say you?” „ .
“Gentlemen,” replied the captaiu, “I
have heard the passengers through their
committee. Has the sick man a repre
sentative here?”
To this unexpected interrogatory, there
was no auswer; when, without a moment’s
pause, the captain crossed over to the car,’
and entering, beheld in one corner a poor,
! emaciated, worn-out creature, whose life
| was nearly eaten up by that canker-worm,
| consumption. The man’s head was bowed
i in his bands and he was weeping. The
’ captain advanced and spoke to him kind
i Iv. ;
“O, sir.,” said the shivering invalid,look- ;
ing up, his face now lit with trembling ex
pectations, “are you the captain, and will
you take me? God help me! The pas
sengers look upon me as a breathing pes
i tilencc, and are so unkind ! You see, sir,
; I am dying; but O, if I am spared to reach
j inv mother, I shall die happy. She lives
j in Burlington, sir, and my journev fs more
; than half performed. lam a poor )>aint
| er, and the only child of her in’ whoso
i arms I wish to die 1”
j “You shall go,” said the captain, “if I j
j lose every passenger for the trip,”
i By this time the whole crowd of passen- j
1 gers were grouped around the boat, with I
: their baggage piled in the path, and they |
> them selves awaiting the decision of the :
! captain before engaging their passage.
A moment more aid that decision was
| made known, as tbey beheld him coming
l.frorn the cars with the sick man cradled
m his arms. Pushing directly through
the cloird with his flying burden, he or
THE TRUTH IN LOVE.
, dja-ed a mattrass to be spread in the cboio-
ot the boat, where he laid the in- j
’ rißid with all the care of a parent. That
i-doae, the captain directed the boat to be
i prepared for starting.
Bnt anew fecliOg*seemed to possess the
passengers—that of shame and
contrition at their inhumanity. With one
J 001,1 ni ° n ini pulse they walked aboard the
j and in a few hoars®* after, another
! committee was sent to the captain, entreat
;mg his presence among-the passengers in
i the cabin.
I He went, and from their midst there
j akose a white-haired man, who, with tear
drops starting in his eyes, told that rough,
sun-browned man that they had felt hum
bled before him, and they asked his for
giveness. It was a touching scene. The
fountain of true sympathy was broken in
tbe heart of nature, and its waters welled
up choking the utterance of all present.
On the instant, a purse was made up for
the sick man, with a.“ God speed” on bis
way home, to die In the arms of bis moth
er.
APPOINTMENTS.
Sometimes, from an incidental cause,
personal or surrounding, such for instance
as head-ache or stormy weather, I have
been seduced into tbe neglect of an ap
pointment. It can’t be called anything
but neglect, not sheer neglect, but still ne
glect; I wanted to go, and was by no
means glad of an excuse for not going;
still the cause for staying sway came up,
and it appeared more important before the
hour of appointment than it did after
wards. I have always regretted such
breakages in the thread of duty, and have
always sincerely repented of them, and
have over and oyer determined to allow
♦ hern no more. Still, I would not have it
understood that I regard myself as, in this
respect, the “chief of sinners,” or as be
ing, in the neglect of appointments, “a
sinner above all the Galileans;” for the oc
casions are but few in a long period, in
which I have so done; but I have always
pit afterwards that, it would have been far
better, for myself at least, if I had bncklod
up to duty, and been on the spot at the
time, and for the Service appointed. There
—the Shove paragraph contain? about as
good a report as a man can write about
first, I have neglected bnt fare ap
pointment? in a long period, and then al
ways for an apparent cause; and secondly,
I have al ways regretted them,-and sincere-
Jy repented of them. But I did not want
so much to speak of myself as to tell a
story pertinent to the subject of keeping
appointments.
Jn a very sparsely populated county in
Western Pennsylvania, an aged minister
or theMitUodist Church was located. He
did not preach regularly, but whenever he
was called on, and made a “pintment” to
preach, he jbight be expected .vui the spot
at the time dead or alive almost. To fore
go a “piiitment” would have ruined his
peace. He made an engagement once to
preach some miles distant from his resi
dence, and lie made timely arrangements
to be absent a couple of days from his
home. Before the day of the engagement
arrived, a severe storm of rain bad raged
upon the mountains and in tbe valleys,
and the country was deluged, and the
streams swollen so a height beyond all bis
former recollections. One stream espe
cially over which his path lay, was enlarg
ed so a river, and was roaring and tumb
ling among trees and over “rocks at an
aiaftning rate. He had been advised to
give up his engagement, but all to no pur
pose; the old minister was not to be scared
at trifles. lie had preserved his integrity
for forty years, and he was not going to
tarnish his fair fame by giving up his
‘•pintment” for a shower of rain. On he
rode, until became to the stream which
he must ford, or else give up and go home'.
He stopped his borse, on whose back lie
bad traveled through many a difficulty,
and gazed on the swollen and roaring
stream before him with some uncertainty
as-to the strength of his horse to bear up
agaiost. tbe plunging tide. But lie did not
long stand and look; bis “pintment” lay j
beyond the ford, and that “was enough for j
him; and sink or swim, live or die, be was j
bound to make an effort to compass the 1
“pintment.” So saying an encouraging j
word to bis horse, and appealing to bis j
paef faithfulness in bearing him through j
difficulties, be entered the stream. Not j
| much difficulty was encountered, uqtil
near the other side of the stream. The
horse swam bravely and the old man had
kind words to say at every stroke of the
animal; until, when near theshore, the old j
minister found that the fierce and deep |
current was there flooring. There was,
however, no turning back; and turning bis
horse’s head tea point up stream he urged
him into tbe dark and whirling waters, —
Brit it was too much. The horse would be
•i cheered no more; his conrnge failed with
i his strength; and the swift tide was now
i bearing them both down, down, perhaps to
! be dashed to pieces among the rocks. —•
i What was to he done? Tbe old minister
i oliserving a branch of a tree under which
: he must pass in descending the stream,
determined that he wonld grasp it, and
thus get no further away from his “pint
ment” than was necessary. He succeeded
in reaching the branch, and grasping it
i with might and main, bis horse was swept
! from under him. The “pintment” was
i there; and the preacher hanging here over
| a torrent of raid waters; and those who
j s f ood on the shore were undecided as to
| what safe measures could be adopted for
i the relief of the preacher. Meantime the
Jiands and arms of. the preacher were
growing more and more weary, and feel
ing that his strength would fail, he cried
out, above the roar of the waters—“O!
Lord! I rnnst keep my ‘pintment’; and
thou hast promised to be with thy servants
in times of difficulty and danger, and now
I< think it is high time something was
done*” *
Speedy deliverance came from the shore,
and the old man kept his “pintment,”and
rejoiced all the more for having encoun
tered and overcome this difficulty; and ho
used to speak of it with much unction,
when exorting young preachers to be faith
ful to their “pintraeuts.”— Maine, Evan
gelist.’
r . _ MORa£*dScRETION , M
When our Lord tells his disciples to
make their prayers and their alms so se
cret, that “their left hand should not know
what their-right hand did;** and again “to
let their light so shiue before men, that
they might see their good works and glori
fy their Heavenly Father,” it is plain that
an exact literal compliance with both pre
cepts would be impossible, and therefore
could not have been designed. What then
is it, one may ask, that he did mean? Evi
dently, that when the publicity of our
alms and our devotions seems likely to
benefit men by our good example, then
we should let them see our light shining,
“that they may glorify our Father in heav
en;” and that, when it is our glory rather
than his that is sought, or that is likely to
be the only effect of publicity, then con
cealment should be preferred And of
this, our great Master requires ns to judge
for onrsel ves in each case, and to decide ac
cording to our discretion. Again, when
he telle us that, in order to be “his disci
ples,” a man must “hate father and moth
er, and wife and children, and all that be
hath,” it is plain that this was not meant
to be understood and obeyed literally.—
And indeed, he himself supplies, in an
other place, an explanation of it, when he
says, “He that loveth father or mother
more than me is not worthy of me.” But
even independently of that explanation, it
is sufficiently clear to any one of ordinary
good sense and candor, that he was look
ing feo those cases (very common at that
time) in which the opposition of .parents,
or wife, or children, must be encountered
by one resolving to be a devoted sorvant
of Christ; and that he must be ready in
such cases to account as nothing in com
parison, the regard felt for those wbo have
tbe strongest, hold on oar hearts, when we
could not comply with their wishes with
out deserting our Master’s cause. And
this he expresses in another place by say
ing, “If thine eye offend thee, pluck it
out; * * if thy right hand offend thee,
ent it off, and cast it from thee;” that is,
if what is most dear and precious to t.boe
prove a hindrance in the path of ehristian
duty, renounce it at once and completely.
WHY DO CHURCHES DIE ?
For a variety of causes too numerous to
mention; bat can any one produce arr ex
ample which t!m speaker at a Bible meet
ing had long sought for but could never
find? “Brethren,” said the speaker, “I
have heard of churches starving out of a
saving spirit, but I have never heard of
one dying out Irom benevolence. And if
I could hear of one such, I would make a
pilgrimage to it by night, and in that qui
et solitude, with the moon shining, and
the aged elm waving, I would put my
hands on the moss-clad ruins, and gazing
on the venerable scene, wonld say, ‘Bless
ed are the dead wbo die in the Lord!’ If
pastors would reflect, they would see at a
flauce that avarice destroys its thousands,
at charity has no victims; and that tbe
dangers to the prosperity of a church are
all on the side of covetousness. The same
spirit which leads men to complain of be
ing called upon to give to general objects
of benevolence, operates to make them
i niggardly in tbeir support of the gospel
jat home. A church which gives, nothing
| to foreign objects, rarely dovises liberal
| things towards its pastor for a very long
i time.”
THE GOSPEL PRECIOUB.
O, precious gospel! Will any merciless
band endeavor to tear away from our hearts
this best, this last, and sweetest avenue
through which one ray of hope can enter?
Would yotrtear from the aged and infirm
poor, the only prop on which their souls
can repose in peace? Would you deprive
the dying of their only source of consola
tion ? Would you rob the world of its
richest treasure ? Would you let loose the
fioodgrates of evety vice, and bring back
upon the earth the horrors of superstition
or the atrocities oY atheism ? Then en
deavor to subvert the gospel; throw
around yon the fire-brands of infidelity;
laugh at religion, and make a mock of fu
tnnity; but assured, that for all these things
God will bring you into judgment. I will
persuade myself that abregard for the wel
fare of their country, if no higher motive,
will induce, men te respect’ the Christian
religion. And every pious heart will say,
rather let the the light of the sun be ex
tinguished, than the precious light of the,
gcspsl.—J/r. A. Alexander,
J. T. BLALN, Printer.
NOW AND THEN.
Nothing is more certain to -come than
the day when “every one of us shall give
account of himself to God/” Seeing that
“we must all appear before the judgment
seat of Christ.” it. is surely important to
inquire, “What are my prospects, and’
what are likely to be my feelings on that
great day?” Is there any hope of stand
ing there with confidence? Shall I stand
“trembling and astonished,” or is there
any way of being calm, bold, joyous and
self-possessed?
Tbe beloved disci pie of tfig Lord Jpsn? Ims
said for himself, and in the nam< o t “ife
geneially who know the Lord Je*ri?, and
“love his appearing,” that we “may have
boldness in the day of judgment, because
as he is, so are we in this world.” “The
fearers of the Lord” are “bold” now, hat
tbe lovers ot the Lord are tbe only per
sons wrio shall be possessed of “boldness”
then. Those who despise “the love of
God” are now proud, haughty, and frill of
“boldness,” but‘fin the day of judgment”
they will appear altogether crest fallen,
ashamed, cm if. mrlml “- 1 * !ILJ —* tin
ror. Tew of earth's great, rieh, martial,
and mighty na*n tremble at tbe presence
of the Lord now, hut it shall le very dif
ferent then; for we read that “the kings of
the earth, and the great men, and the rich
men, and the chief captains, and the
mighty men, and every bondman, and
every freeman,” shall hide “themselves in
the dens and rocks of the mountains,” and
shall be found crying to the mountains
and rocks, “Fall on ns and hide us from
the face of Him that sittetli on the throne,
and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the
great day of his wrath is eome, an I who
shall be able to stand?”— Boston Me*cn
ger.
THE PRAYING MOTHER.
Richard Cecil record* the leliou ing as
his experience:—“Nothing qsed to im
press upon my mind s * sti.nmh- ihe.r'.a 1 ”
ty and excellence of religibn.'as my ng.ih
er’s counsels and prayc* s. Fieq.isri.Uy tde
reiired with he.rchildre:: i>.i private room:
and alter she had lead the Bible with ns,
and given us some good instruct’ n and
advice, she kneeled, down with ns an j offer
ed u prayer, which, for apparent earnest
ness and fervor, I have seldom known
equated. •rroft ,3’ rT'-T.l
-to us; and sometimes we looked tor
ward to-fbein with impatience. My (both
er seemed to me then almost an arorel ;
her language, her manner, the very expres
sion of 4ier indicating great
nearness to trie throne of gin ce. I could
not have shown levity at such times. It
wonld have been impossible. I felt then
it was a great blessipg to have u praying
mother ; and I have felt it much my£e soa
sibly since. Those prayers and counsels
time will never efface from my memory.
They form, as it were, a part of my vuy
constitution;”
A BEAUTIFUL “EXTRACT.
“When the summer of youth is slowly
wasting away info the night of age, and
the shadows of past years grow deeper, as
life wears on to its close, it i's pleasant to
look through the visits of time upon the
sorrows and felicities of our earlier yems.
If we have a home to shelter* and hearts
to rejoice us, and friends leave been gath
ered together around our firesides,, then
the rough places of our wayfaring will
have been worn and smoothed away, in
the twilight of life, while the sunny spots
we have passed through will grow bright
er and more beautifJ. Happy, indeed,
are those whose iuterconrse with the world
has not changed the holier feeling, or bro
ken those musical chords of the heart,
whose vibrations are so melodious, so ten
der and touching in the evening of age!
HAPPY SORROW AND FATAL JOY.
When 1 see an afflicted and an unhappy
man, I say to myself, There is, jHU-haps,
a man whom the world would envy, if they
knew the value of his sorrows, wlych are
possibly intended only to soften.his heart,
and to turn his affections towards their
proper centre. But when I see or hear of
a crowd of voluptuaries, who have no ears
but for music, no eyes but for splendor,
and no tongues bnt for impertinence and
foUy—4 say, or at least I see occasion to
say —this is madness—this persisted in
must have a tragical conclusion—-it will
condemn you, not only as Christians un
worthy of the name, but as infelligi iff crea
tures. Yori know by the light of nature,
if you have not quenched’ it, that tlu fe is
a God, and that a life like yours cannot, be
according to his will. —-Carpers Letters.
A QUIET RELIGION.
Many times God i? present in tbe sti)
Voice and private ictirenx lit of a quiet, re
ligion, aiidrihe cqpsTaiit ‘spi.ytuaUq, s < fpu
ordinary fife; When’ the so nil and imperi
ous wrnd, and the shining flic? ot morn
laborious and expensive actions are* nn-fi ta
ble to others only, like a tree of bjibtiin,
distilling precious liquors tor others, and
not for his own use.
Let us not t,\ ■ t - u.m u
them whom God has t iken a\va> ; let us
not trouble onrsel vet: .or flu m that are at
rest; let us not shed ove.-meny tvar# t<*r
them who can now shed tears no nn->ie f'or
eyer - let us not grieve too much iur ih< m
j who cannot grieve, because sorrow and
! sighing are fled away-
Number 14.