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Vol. XXXII.—No. 32.
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The Strong Man Bpund-
There is 110 fact more Remarkable in,
the history of than that they are
most often ensnared who are least
afraid of temptation The cause of this
is understood and dulyapproeiatod by
him who has barned/how frail man is,
or, in other words, has learned by per
sonal experience, what is
between the strength of nature and
the strength of grace. Not many years
ago in one of niy charges, there lived
a man who possessed great native pow
ers of intellect, and, in the main, was
as amiable a man as I ever knew. This
man had shared largely in Heaven’s
rich blessings. Ilis wife was a para
gon of excellence as to her domestic
qualifications, and a living monument
of the power ot the grace of God. As
might be expected of such a mother,
she taught her children early to love
and serve God.
Hut this man, with all his natural
superiority, and though having shared
so largely in the beneficence of heaven,
was a pitiable wreck, and lay at the
shrine of Bacchus, hopelessly bound by
chains of his own forging. During one
of my pastoral visits to bis family, he
related to me a briofhistory of his life,
and the sad tale of his spiritual down
fall. In early manhood, he was a live
ly member of the church, and, unlike
many backsliders, he never denied
having once experienced a sense of
sins forgiven, and the love of God shed
abroad in his heart, And even then,
)io would shed tears freoly, in retro
spect! ng the happy days, when ho en
joyed sweet and constant communion
with God. How wide the difference
between that happy period and his
present sad captivity. He said, that
he was strongly tempted, as many are,
to maintain his honor against the as
sault of a personal enemy, but having
the very highest respect for the church,
jjo could not reconcile it with his con
science to execute his design, as a mem
ber of the church. At length, ho con
cluded to withdraw his name from the
list of the members of that sacred body,
and hushed the yoieo qf a troubled
conscience, by promising himself to
reunite with them, aftor 110 hadavenged
himself of his adversary, ignoring the
declaration of holy writ. “Vengeance
js mine, I will repay saith the Lord.”
Having yielded to this temptation, he
began to retrograde rapidly, beeame a
victim to intoxication, resisting un
gloved the tears and earnest entrea
ties of a pious, fond and devoted wife
ft was not long before, in a fit of de
lirium, gorgon horrors, infuriated dev
ils, dancing around him howled for his
destruction, Wife and children fled
from his presence terror stricken, a»d
sought refuge under t'bejr neighbor’s
roof. Thus he went on, growing worse
the older he grew, until twenty years
of such sad experience as this, had
passed, when 1 formedhisacquaintaneo.
•TTHMirilhi first, lie always talked with
me freely, depreciated his sad con
dition, and made many promises to
reform. One Sabbath morning, 1 passed
his house on my way to fill an appoint
ment a few miles beyond. 1 had gone
but a short distance, when the rain
fiegan to fall in copious showers, f
pcined up my horse, turned and went
back to bis house. 11 0 liad just aroused
from a deep sleep of about twenty-four
hours length, into which ho had fallen
after a tit of delirium tremens. Ho met
me upon the threshold and greeted me
with his accustomed cordiality, and
fade me he seated. I determined to say
fiotliing to him on that occasion about
his past conduct; for l did not regard
slim as ina proper frame qf mind tq
appreciate an exhortation. A few
minutes only elapsed after my arrival,
when he began,
“I suppose Mr J. that you have
heard of my recent intoxication.’’ f
fifliiid not refrain from speaking freely
to him, for my heart was full. “Yes,”
said 1, “with deep regret I iiave heard
•fall. Yours is a deplorable case; for
you have not only ruined yoursejf, but
you have entailed much qf your dia_-
gr«ce upon your dear family. Besides,
they have to bear much of your per
sonal ill-treatment. Do you know, sit',
that you made an attempt to kill your
dear wife and children r
■No, sir,” said he, and he burst into
a Hood of tears, for when sober, he was
as kind a husband as woman ever had,
and on this account she had forborne to
tell him of his abuse to his family when
drunk. For several moments he wept
many bitter tears ; then said to me :
“Sir, by the grace of God, I’ll never
drink another drop of liquor, and I
wjll take qn oath before you to day,
that f hover will.” “The strength of
Goil’s'grace is indeed your only depen
dattce,” I answered; but I had hoard
of his having sworn several limes to
abstain from liquor, but as often vio
lated his oath. The rain continued to
fall in torrents and detained me at his
house the whole of that memorable
Sabbath.
We spent the day in social, solemn
converse, until I announced that night
was approaching, and that I must be
gone. Said he, “Stop, you must ad
minister that oath to me this evening,
before you depart,” and rising to his
feet, he presented me with the Bible.
I lectured him briefly on the solemni
ty and obligation of an oath, and told
him that the circumstances that sur
foupded us on that occasion, the sacred
iiess of the Sabbath, the person by
whom administered, would render that
oath more binding than any that he
had ever taken. Said he, “I am fully
sensible of the weight of responsibility,
and the extent of my obligation, and
am determined, by the strength of
God’s grace to pay my vows.”
His wife sat on my left, and the
children near me on the right, all wit
nessing the passing scene, all weeping
as though their hearts would break.
He knelt upon the floor before me,
and placed his hands upon the Bible,
tyhile the tears flowed copiously down
his cheeks, with trembling hand, he
prossed the Bible to his lips as the seal
of his solemn vow, then in accents bro
ken, by heartfelt grief, he articulated,
“now pray for me.” We all knelt to
pray. Ah ! that was a solemn hour,
the mother and her children wept and
agonized in their intercessions at the
throne of grace, that the husband and
father might be able to keep that
solemn vow, and turn speedily unto
God. We rose from prayer, and after
invoking heaven’s blessings upon that
household, I departed. For several
months he was faithful to his oath, but
alas! the chains of his captivity had.
not been broken ; for he had promised
not to rely in his own strength, but in
the strength of the grace of God. Duty
soon called me to another field of la
bor, and our association ceased ; but I
received the painful intelligence, short
■ , - - -■. ■ ■ 1 —— 4 J-l : »- -'■fiVV c • —■-'-MIR. W.’-. 77: —-— ; ’7 r ’ g ;
Sanibrttt Christian IMtatalt.
ly afterwards, that he had violated his
last solemn oath.
Now, I have not the slightest shadow
of a doubt, as to this man’s sincerity,
*and had he God earnestly, and
fixed his „b cal MP n< l gaze on things
above, be realized that his
strsjjfloh was proportioned to the de-
his Tlays. Young man, mid
dle aged, depend not too much upon
yourself. I«gire not how great be
your natural^powers of self-control,
your danger is imminent every hour.
How crafty is thq adversary of souls!
He does not beset your pathway with
snares whose destruction is glaringly
manifest, for this would alarm an en
lightened conscience, but gradually
does he seek, by various means, to hide
from your vision, the deformity of sin,
and the awful punishment of its vota
ries, and, taking counsel with your car
nal desires and the infidelity of your
heart, the pit is disguised and you fall
head long into eternal death. No con
fidence should be cherished in an arm
of flesh. The wisest are not exempt
from falling by the power of the devil.
Shun the smallest of temptations to
drink intoxicating liquors, as you would
the venom of a serpent, for yielding to
a single temptation may be the initia
tion of the reign of an imperious hab
it, the first link in a chain, which will
lengthen with your days and bind you
at last in the gloomy regions of the
damned. G. S. J,
Obedience
How much Christ loves a spirit of
obedience ! It is, before God “better
than sacrifice ” Joy is good—a blessed
boon from heaven—peace and calm are
excellent beyond expression ; but bet
ter than calm and quiet, richer than
the gift of joy, is the disposition to
obey God
Have we not undervalued the spirit ?
We are ever, like spoiled children, cry
ing after the sweets of our religion, We
want our chalice filled with nectar. “I
must have extatio joy or die,” says
one. (‘I (Jo pot enjoy myself as I wish,”
says another, “i am in darkness, un
der manifold temptations,” cries a
third. Why in darkness? “Because
I am tempted, and why so tempted, if
a child of God,” says this troubled soul.
“Count it all joy when ye fall into
divers temptations,” says God to this
one. (‘Ret the joy come and go as God
will,” says the God-man hy his exam
ple in Gethsemane. Let this be the
ground of yonr rejoicing, that you have
a heart to fear God “aud keep all his
commandments, always;” the “testi
mony of” your (‘conscience that in sim
plicity and godly sincerity” you “have
had your conversation in the world.”
Value this spirit of obedience above all
other possessions They that do His
will enter into heaven,
(‘Whosoever doolh the will of my
Father which is in heaven, the same is
ray mother and sister and brother.”
Christ's brother! Dear to Him as Mary
and Martha of Bethany—His sister!
Doaror still, His mother! Men wor
ship the virgin mother, but she who
doos His will, is as dear to Him as she,
who stood by His cross, and about
whom lie cared so tenderly midst His
death agonies.
Give me the consciousness that 1
fear God, and am humbly endeavoring
to do His will, and this Hhall ho piy
joy, my constant joy. If God will to.
mo more, blessed be His name —if
not, i’ll praise Hint for a heart to fear
and obey. Let this suifice, “where I
am there shall my servants be.”
G. 11. Wills.
soririne anb fetemnrt.
The Dying Heiress
Alice was an anlj’ chiid, an heiress.
Lovely and accomplished, she lived so; 1
this world, and this world ottered her
no ordinary attractions. Idolized by
fler parents, and beloved by an accept
ed suitor, she knew not the meaning of
a wish ungratified. But an unexpected
visitor arrived at the mansion. A pale
messenger came to Alice. A hectic
flush suffused her beautiful face, ren
dering it, if possible, more lovely still,
The eye of affectiou soon perceived
that the seetjs of consumption had been
laid, Alice sank by degrees, and as
she lay on her couch, surrounded with
all the luxuries that wealth could pro
cure, began to think how sail it was to
leave her loving friends and all her
brilliant prospects, and to go—where?
where ?
Siie could not find an answer satis
factory to her soul.
Sho sent for the High Ohuroh cler
gyman, He came. The family was
assembled.
He produced a missal. They all
kneeled round the bed. He intoned
the service for the sick. Having re
ceived her confession, and pronounced
absolution, he with peculiar genuflex
ions, administered the sacrament, and
placing his hands 0,1 her, blessed her,
and pronounced her a good child of the
ohurch. He departed, perfectly satis
fied with his own performances, and
assuring the parents that all was right.
Was Alice satisfied? She had submit
ted to all. She had endeavored to join
in the service, but in her inmost soul
she felt a blank.
“Father,” said she, “I am going to die.
Where am I going?”
The father gave no reply.
“Mother, darling, cau yo.u tell me
what I grq to do to got to heaven V”
No reply save tears.
“William, you who were to be the
guide of my life, can you tell me any
thing of the future ?”
No response.
“I’m lost!” she exclaimed. “Am I
not, father?” Is there anyone who
can tell me what I must do to be
saved ?”
At length the father spoke.
“My child, you have always been a
dutiful daughter, and have never griev
ed your parents. You have regularly
attended the Abbey church, und helped
in its services, and the minister has
performed tho rites of the church, aud
expressed himself satisfied with your
state.”
“Alas! father, I feel that is not en
ough. It is no rest to my soul. It is
hollow—it is not real. O ! lam going
to die, and I know not where I am
going. O, the blackness of the dark
ness ! Can no one tell me what I can
do to be saved ?”
Blank despair was depicted on her
countenance. Misery overshadowed
the circle. They were overtaken by a
real danger. Death was in their midst.
Eternity was looming before them.
They knew not how to answer the ap
peal of an immortal soul, awakened
to a sense of sin—to a dread of appear
ing before God, to the terrors of hell
Alice was attended by a little maid,
who was in the habit of frequenting a
meeting held in a barn in the village,
where prayer and praise were offered
up in simplicity, and where they sang
the old hymns—
‘■Th»ie is a fountain filledarith blond,
brawn from Itnmaauel’s rains,
And aimers plums-d beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains;”
and
* I lay my sin<* on Jesuw,
Tl»« sp Hless Larr b 01 God ;
H-* bears them all and fre*-s as
From the accur-ed load;”
rhero she heard words that re
igi|picd fier of the <mod old p^^r.
She IfllTged to tgjJQier that
felt diftiilWt. At took
and Lust as captive Taid
in®> NaStnan’s wife, God, mV
1 ( t Cjgttvipfthe
SamajßqjEFne w o 11 1 1 r«h nil x>f
hisSpeproMr she s
“Ttfcre is jrfTt’eacher/n tbb village who.
proclaims salvation, through faith<rq
Jesus Christ, anfl**firges us to accept
the forgiveness freely offered in the
gospel ”
“O that I could see him !” exclaimed
the dying girl.
Alice besought her father to invite
the strange preacher to their house;
though he thought extraordinary, her
wish was law.
Again the family were assembled,
and the man of God entered the room.
• The dying girl, raising herself, appealed
to him. “Can you tell me what 1 must
do to obtain rest for my soul, and die
in peace with God?”
“I fear I cannot.”
Alice fell back. “Alas!” said she,
“and is it so ? Is there no hope for
me ?”
“Stay,” said he, “though I cannot
tell you what you can do to be saved,
1 can tell you what has been done for
you.
“Jesus Christ, the Saviour God, has
completely finished a work hy which
lost and helpless sinners may be right
eously saved. God, who is love, saw
us in our lost and ruined state. Ho
pitied us, and in love and compassion
sent Jesus to die for us. ‘God so loved
the world, that he gave his only begot
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in
him should not perish, but have ever
lasting life.’ He shed his precious blood
on the accursed tree, in the stead and
place of sinners, that they might be
pardoned and saved. ‘Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shaft bo
saved.’ ”
“And have I nothing to do?”
“Nothing but i.o believe. No doing,
working, praying, giving, or abstain
ing, can give relief to a conscience bur
dened with a sense of guilt, or rest to
the troubled heart. It is not a work
done in you by yourself, but a work
done for you hy another, long, long ago.
Jesus has completed the work of our
redemption. lie hath said, ‘lt is fin
ished.’ Through faith in him you have
pardon. It is impossible for a sinner
to do ought to save himself. It is im
possible to add any thing to the perfect
work of Christ. Doing is not God’s
way of salvation, hut ceasing from do
ing, and believing what God in Christ
has already done for you. ‘God has giv
en unto us eternal life, and this life is
in his Son.’ ”
“I do believe that Jesus died on the
cross for sinners; but how am 1 to
know that God has accepted me f"
“Jesus, the God-man, fcua amended
into heaven. Ro lias presented his
bloofl before God, and has been accept
ed for us; and when you believe, you
are accepted in him.”
The awakened sinner listened with
breathless attention. She received the
word of God, which revealed Christ
to her son!. The glad tidings fell as
balm upon her wounded spirit. Her
face was lit up with heaven’s sunlight.
Looking upward, she exclaimed, “O,
what love ! what icraoe 1
fhv blood an>l righteousness
My boauly are, my glorious dres>.’ v
And in a few days afie departed to be
with Christ.
Header, were you in similar circum
stances.—were you on your death-bed
—could you die happy, believing in
Jesus? Are you now resting on His
finished atoning sacrifice ?—British Her
ald.
Shall I Lessen my Eternal Joy p
“Light is sown for the righteous, and
gladness for the upright in heart." “No
chastoning for the present seemoth to
be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless,
afterward it worketh tho peaceable
fruits of righteousness to them who
are exercised thereby.”
“Read that again,” said the invalid,
as her friend read aloud these selec
tions of Scripture. “I never before
noticed the y.eaoniblanoe in the two pas
sages. Both contain a metaphor re
minding one of the space which inte
venes between the seedtime and har
vest.”
“Yes,” replied her friend ; “the sea
son of attiiction is the springtime, when
tho soil of the heart is plowed and har
rowed, to make it fit to receive spirit
ual seed, whose fruit will in due time
bo soen by the Great Husbandman.”
“Aye, light is sown, and gladness. I
never before noticed tho word as de
noting forethought and care in the Qne
who sows. And does the Great Hus
bandman design for me a harvest ojf
joy and happiness?• and shall I repine
at the rough usages of the spring
time ?”
“If,” replied her friend, “we could
but realize that all this is requisite
for the soul’s good a s G the nee of the
implements of husbandry fbr the field
of the farmer, wo would not repine,
but ‘count it all joy,’ whenever such
trials befell us.”
“Light is sown.” Following out the
metaphor, and thinking also of that
other passage which speaks of the “far
more exceeding and e.ernal weight of
glory,” which is the result of afflictions
properly borne. I fell into a reverie.
I seemed to catch a glimpse of heav
enly mansions, and of gardens where
the Lamb leudeth his redeemed ones
to “fountains of living waters.” Augel
voices seemed to whisper:
“For every throb of pain patiently
endured ; for every suppressed feeling
of impatience or murmuring ; for every
pulsation of gratitude and love to God
—in short, for every resisted tempta
tion, and every act which finds accep
tance in God’s sight, we angels make a
record in that Book of Remembrance
which is kept for those who love him.
These are as seeds sown for that great
harvest, in which you are to reap your
‘eternal we’ght of glory ’ ’’
Oh I when those other books are
opened and the dead are judged accord
ing tjwhat is written therein,, let it
not be said, that like “wood, hay, stub
ble,” my works shall be burnt up, and
I among those saved as by fire.
Such “must suffer loss.” Who can
tell what that loss will be which is felt
throughout eternity ? An entrance into
heaven, but not “an abundant en
trance.” Angels may welcome, but
they cannot say, your “work abideth”
in that day when “the firo shall try
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & 00., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
Macon, Friday, August 6, 1869.
every man’s work, of what sort it is.”
Jesus may receive me; but he cannot
say, “ Well done, good and faithful ser
vant.”
Am I willing t j lessen my own eter
nal joy ? Am I willing to lessen the
joy of angels? Am I willing to lessen
the joy of my Lord ? —Christian Banner.
The Last Sensation.
Since the Bishops’ correspondence,
the great sensation in the Northern
Methodist Church, is the National
Camp-meeting.—Columns of their pa
pers are filled with accounts of the
great gathering. The leading secular
'newspapers dispatched reporters to the
*icene, and their letters are flying all
over the land
It was designed to be a “big meet
ing,” and it was a big meeting, in such
a sense as to impress the Northern peo
ple tremendously. The correspondent
of the New York Herald gives us a pic
ture of the scene;
“The great National Camp-meeting
of the M. E. Church, now in full blast
at Round Lake, Saratoga county, N.
Y., far and near is attracting general
attention. Its audiences are immense,
excelled in numbers only by those of
the Boston Peace Jubilee; and its at
tractions to the worshipper, the sum
mer butterfly, philosoper, and the Bo
hemian are infinitely more attractive
than the late stupid and senseless ‘hub
bub of the Hub.’ This Round Lake
establishment is the perfection of the
camp-meeting, with all the modern im
provements. The grounds are forty
acres; the encampment is laid out like
a city, with its streets, avenues, squares
and fountains. The association have
tents to rent in any quantity, and very
cheap; likewise cooking stoves, bed
steads and bedding, chairs, tables, &c.,
there are also boarding tents, where
strangers can be accommodated at from
fifty to seventy-five cents per meal, or
for a term not less than three days, at
one dollar per day. They have accom
modations for carriages and teems, a
market, a potsoffiee, a telegraph and
express, and a bookstore, and the only
wonder is they haven’t a daily news
paper.”
There were 700 tonts, seats for 6,000
hearers, and 150 preachers who were
furnished with a “single bed per night
at 75 cents, or 50 cents if they staid
through the meeting.” There was a
tent capable of sheltering 3,000 persons.
The arrangements for watering the
crowd were ample—“a reservoir, hold
ing one hundred hogsheads, built in
masonry, about a half a mile from the
grounds, supplying the water, which is
chalybeate, through a two inch pipe,
buried four foet under ground, and, by
a happy arrangement of tank and pipe,
is brought within the reach of all.
Near the centre of the grounds is a ba
sin, sixteen feet in diameter, with eight
posts. Through these run pipes, each
throwing jets of water back into the
basin, while in the centre of the basin
rests a fino fountain about fifteen feet
high, throwing water in the form of
spray. Fishes play in the large basin
below. In another location a basin
fifty-three feet in diameter supplies the
horses. Besides these there are two
other large reservoirs ”
The old-fashioned camp-meeting horn
was dispensed with of course, and a
tine-toned bell, of two thousand pounds,
swung in a tower over the stand, sum
moned the worshippers to the services.
Among the preachers present, the
Rev. Mr, Inskip, of Eutaw Street
Church, Baltimore, seemed to be a lea
der, if not the leader. At one of the
meetings he introduced something quite
new in Methodist prayer-meetings.
Rev. Dr. Butler had preached, and Mr.
Inskip, at the close of the sermon,
struck up the hymn, “There is a foun
tain filled with blood.” As the singing
progressed and reached the third stan
za, he asked all “who felt they could
endorse the sentiment to hold up their
hands. The third verse was then Sung,
with both hands uplifted, Dr. Inskip
invoking the spirits of Wesley , Fletcher
and all the redeemed in Heaven , to help
them to accept the truth in all its
length and breadth.” Is the invoca
tion of saints practiced in the Methodist
Church? We quote the above from
one of their papers where it is given
without dissent or rebuke.
Thej’ had a grand love-feast or expe
rience-meeting. Three or four hundred
people spoke in the space of an hour.
The speeches were all short and to the
point. One bfQthev had eomc all the
w r ay from London—not New London,
hut old London in England—to attend
the meeting. A minister was present
from Paris. This American camp
meeting reminded him of the gather
ings for religious services during the
Great Exhibition. “Happy” John Al
len, of Maine, said, '‘l have been to
J 99 camp-meetings, and if God spares
me wifi go, to as many more.” lie had
moved out of grumbling alley, and now
lived in thanksgiving street.
Qf course as this was a National
meeting, the States must be represent
ed. The roll of States was called, and
someone or more spoke for each State,
The great day of the meeting was
Sunday. Yast multitudes thronged the
grounds, The preacher at 11 o’clock
was Bishop Simpson, He is said to
ha.ye preached a powerful sermon. Af
ter the seymoh speakers of both sexes
appeared all over tho grounds.
Tho correspondent of the Tribuno
thus describes this part of the services:
“The sermon which pleased me best
was delivered from an improvised
stand, in Fountain Square, by a lady
from Pawtucket, Rhode Island. She
told her simple story of trial and strug
gle with so much unaffected earnest
ness, with such womanly grace and
feeling, and in such a sweet, sympa
thetic voice, that very few who listen
ed to her could refrain from evincing
emotion. A lady from Illinois also
spoke with great effect from the head
of a water hogshead
“In my rambles around the camp I
encountered a middle-aged lady w’ho
had just button-holed a wild looking
young blood from Troy. How she
scorched that poor young man with her
burning invectives against pride, and
tobacco, and Sabbath breaking. A lit
tle beyond this earnest speaker was
gathered a knot of folks intently lis
tening to the sharp words of another
female preacher. She was mounted
upon a wagon, and her untidy cap flut
tered and flapped in the breeze like the
tattered banner of some veteran regi
ment returning from the war in a storm.
I am sorry that I missed the best part
of this lady’s discourse. There’s many
a woman fair as she whose nouns and
verbs do more agree, but I doubt much
whether there is a score in the whole
land who can give more earnest expres
sion to their thoughts than this same
brave old disciple. “Shame on you,”
said she; “shame on you young woman
with that brazen .headgear and that
ungodly hump on your back! Where’s
the modesty your mother teached you
!to kerry through life with you ? [Here
a very pretty girl vanished into the
wood.] There’s a full-grown man
chawing a nasty, filthy wood that the
pigs wouldn’t tetch. Next to godli
ness, young man, is cleanliness Es I
didn’t love the human race as I do,
bless God, I’d like to git down from this
waggin and sicken your tobacker ebaw
ers with your nasty mouthful.” And
so on, one by one, the old lady took up
the ten commandments and handled
the infractors thereof with rough
hands. She was the plainest taker I
ever had the pleasure of hearing—for
to me it was a real pleasure to listen
to the spontaneous outburst of an hon
est woman’s feelings.
This meeting was designed to pro
mote the doctrine of holiness as it is
now taught by many in the Northern
Church. What has been the I’csult of
the meeting in this respect we have not
learned. We won’t join the M. E.
Church yet. It is too great. —Richmond
jphristian Advocate.
The Sure Word.
Our lot is fallen in times when, on
the one hand, the very foundations of
the faith are shaken by those who
ought to bo its chief defenders; aud,
on the other, a superstructure of wood,
hay and stubble is raised upon that
foundation, almost equally nerilous to
the safety of those who trust them
selves upon it. And men are asking
where is there any resting-place amidst
this deluge of unbelief and false doc
trine with which the whole earth is
overspread ? But why such a question ?
Is not the ark of God’s World floating
high above it all, offering a secure, a
permanent resting-place to every weary
and heavy-laden soul that seeks a re
fuge in it ? Is not the ark of God’s
testimony spread open bofore you?
Keep close to God’s own Word. Let
no man, call himself what he will, move
you from the foundation. And amidst
ail varied interpretations of that Word,
kyep to that which a prayerful, earnest
and diligent persual of it carries home
to your conscience. When you stand
before the bar of God hereafter, no de
pendence upon human teaching will he
your vindication for not having acted
upon God’s Word as He gave it to you.
lie who allows any man to come be
tween him and God’s message to him,
must tako the consequence of prefer
ring man’s word to God’s.
When our martyred Reformers stood,
a mere handful against an opposing
host, this was the rock on which they
fixed their footing—God’s Word, and
God’s Spirit as its alone infallible inter
preter. And God’s grace supported
them in their fiery trial, and honored
them, even here, with a victory preg
nant in blessings to their country—
that country so fervently prayed for by
one of them, and whose words, not
withstanding all that is happening
around us, let us hope, may have flowed
from prophetic lips—“Bo of good cheer,
Master Ridley, and play the man; wo
slricl! this day light such a candle in
England, by God’s grace, as shall never
be put out.” —Dean Goode.
Power of a Book.
Many years ago a tract colporteur of
tho American Tract Society in Texas,
with evangelical literature in his saddle
bags, offered to make a present of a
volume to a wagoner.
‘My friend,” said the wagoner, “I
will be plain with you—l never read
any thing of that kind.” “Perhaps
your wife would like to read the book.”
“Well, my wife is a religiously inclined
woman, and I will accept this book and
present it to her.”
Several years afterward, tho donor,
in the busy streets of a commercial
town in Texas, looking out for wagons
by which to send books into the interi
or, was asked by a good-looking man,.
“Do you recollect me ?” “I do not,”
“Are you the gentleman who some
years ago gave me-a religious book?”
The reply was, “Yes.”
“Well,” said the wagoner, bursting
into a flood of tears, “1 am that man,
and I have been wanting to see you
ever since. I was then a ringleader in
wickedness, a terror to my neighbor
hood. lam now a preacher. Tho book
yon so kindly gave me for my wife
proved the means of my conversion.
You certainly never could have given
a book to any one under more unfavor
able circumstances. I told you candid
ly 1 never read religious hooks. You
suggested that my wife might read it;
and I took it on her account. Stopping
to eat, and gvaae my oxen on the road,
I concluded I would look over the book,
and beeame somewhat interested. Ar
riving at home, Providence prostrated
mo on a bed of sickness. I had re
course to the hook intended for my
wife, read it, was led through its teach
ings to the foot of the cross, and ona
hled to repose ray faith in the bleeding
Victim, and to accept, as I humbly
trust, of salvation through tho merits
of His atoning blood ; and here I am,
a sir her savod through grace, and a
minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ,
all, under God, owing to the readjng of
a book you kindly presented me, with
a hope that it might benefit to my wife.”
Such was his history. He was fur
nished with more evangelical pulflica
tions, and again sent forth “armed and
equipped,” to apply to others the same
wonderful cure for sin-sick souls. Who
can reckon up the value ot a good
book ? ■
The Great Wheel-
Nicodcmus was a converted. Indian.
His language was highly figurative.
Once, when looking at tho mill, he said
to the missionary ; “Brother, I discov
er something that rejoices my heart.
I have seen the great wheel, and many
little ones; every one was in motion,
and seemed all alive, suddenly all stop
ped, and the mill was as dead. Just so
it is with my heart —it is as dead as
the wheel; hut as soon as Jesus’ blood
flows upon it, it gets life, and sots every
thing in motion, and the whole man
heir* 0 ’ governed by it, it becomes evi
denYthat there is life throughout. But
■when th(j.heart is removed from tho
crucified Jesus, it dies gradually, and at
length all life ceases.” .
When the doctrines of the Holy Spir
it became more dear to his mind, he
compared his body to a canoe, and his
heart to the rudder; adding “that tho
Holy Spirit was the master, sitting at
the rudder and directing the vessel.”—
Eclectic Treasury.
If those who sneer at practical r®U;
gion would only seek it for themselves
and make a fair trial of it, their lips
would be sealed to scoffers aud. only
opened in grateful praise. I never
heard a sincere Christian who pronoun
ced Christianity an imposturo or a fai
lure. Have you?
He who is angry with his just re
prover, kindlea tho lire of the just aven
ger.
Tbe Change in Madagascar.
At tho annual meeting of the Lon
don Missionary Society in May, tho fol
lowing account of the progress of the
Gospel in the island of Madagascar was
given in the report :
In the island of Madagascar the reli
gious progress made during the past
year finds no parallel among any peo
ple in modern days. On the day of the
coronation of the present queen, three
hundred thousand people gathered to
meet their sovereign. Preceeded by a
hundred ladies, and by her Ministers
and Council, the queen was borne to
the assembly in simple state. The old
scarlet banners which were the era
blams of the Idol’s presence, were
wanting in the procession. Around
the canopy that shaded her throne
were written the words of tho angels
which welcomed tho Rodoemer into
the world. In front and to her right
stood the table which bore her crown.
On another tablo to the left was the
Biblo presented to her predecessor by
the British and Foreign Bible Society.
Her royal speech contained many ele
vated sentiments; but is specially an
nounced to all her people liberty of
conscience in regard to Christianity, of
the fullest kind. “This is my word to
you, O ye under heaven, in regard to
the praying; it is not enforced, it is not
hindered; for God made you.”
Thirty years ago, in March, 1836, on
a Sunday morning, the little prison of
the capital at Ambatonakanga was
opened, aud a young woman led forth
to be put to death. She was just thir
ty, fair to look upon, and of gentle
manners; and her face was lit with
that bright radiance which springs
from the conviction that God and heav
en are very near. She walked forth
with firm step ; she was surrounded hy
the guards ; and, though going to die,
she began to sing in a joyous tone the
hymns that she had loved. Followed
by a crowd, of which some hooted and
somo were lost in wonder, sho passed
through the city towards tho dreary
ditch at the south end of the long ridge
on which the capital is built. The
scene before her and on either side was
one of unusual beauty. East, west, and
south, the broad green plan of Imerina,
stretched to the distant horizon, pre
senting to tho eye bright gleams of
lakes and water-courses, of fertile
fields and wooded hills, amongst which
nestled the rich vilages, and the flocks
and herds were feeding in peace. She
saw it not. She saw not the smiling
land, tho taunting crowd, the cruel exe
cutor. Sho saw only the face of her
Lord. Descending tho hill, she knelt
to pray; and, so praying, she was
speared. No common honor descended
upon her that day; she was the first
martyr of Christ’s Church in tho island
of Madagascar.
Thirty-two years have passed away,
again the crowds gather at the “White
Village,” and another woman comes
down to pray, tho object of attraction
to all eyes. This is tiie queen of Mad
agascar. On the white ridge which
overhangs the ditch where Rasalama
died, stands a handsome church, with
its lofty spire, which has been erected
to her memory, and bear her name
upon its wall. Tho church is crowded
with Christian worshippers, and vast
numbers are compelled to remain out
side The Queen not a persecutor, hut
a friend, comes to join her people in
dedicating the church to Christian wor
ship ; and, in special sympathy with
the occasion, offers her Bible for pulpit
use. The Prime Minister, whoso pre
decessor has assigned Christians to
death, now urges his countrymen, in
stirring words, to believo in Christ, be
cause lie is the Saviour of the world.
The report of the Mission speaks of
20,000 hearers added to tho congrega
tions during last, year; and returns the
converts at 37 000 persons, including
7,000 members.
The missionaries write thus to the
directors:—“The most important mat
ter I have to ommunicate this month
is that on Sunday, February 21st, the
Queeu aud Prime Minister were bap
tized by Andriambelo. A large num
ber of the leading officers were present,
and the fact has been made as public
as possible. The prime Minister states
that, during tho days of darkness, ho
received a copy of tho Scriptures from
one of the last of the martyrs —Raza-
finarina—and that ho used to keep it
hid within the courtyard, in a part of
the enclosier where tho Queen kept
her fighting bulls. Tho ways of God
are wonderful, and wo possibly may
at the present time be reaping fruit
from seed then sown in toars. —JY. Y.
Observer.
The Shield of Faith.
When Epaminondas had received his
death wound, on the battle-field, lie
asked, with his fast failing oreath, if
the enemy had taken his buckler.
Oil being told that it was safe, that
the enemy had not so much as laid a
hand upon it, he laid him down again
peacefully to his soldier’s death.
So,-when the soldier of the red cross
comes to his dying hour, his failing
hand reaches out for his trusty shiold
of faith, which has borne him safely
through so many conflicts. If it is
safe, all is well. lie can rest his head
upon it, as upon a downy pillow, and
breathe his life away in the joyous
hope of a glorious resurrection.
“Now,” Haiti the bishops, to John
Huss, as the fagots wore piled about
him, “we commend thy soul to the
devil.”
“But I,” said Huss, lifting up his eyes
to heaven, “do commit my spirit into
thy hands, O, Lord Jesus Christ; to
thee I commend my spirit, which thou
hast redeemed.”
He wore a shield which no firo of
the persecutor could destroy.
A young minister of great promise
was called, at twenty-four, to lay his
armor down, and take the cross his Sav
iour held to him.
“None can know,” he said, in bis last
moments, “none can conceive, tho hap
piness I possess, but the sincere disci
ple of Josus. Redeemer of mankind,
give me strength to boar ovon this
joy!”— S. S. Times.
Living to Christ. —Brethren, let
us aim, as St. Paul did, to live to Christ.
How bright the halo*which surrounds
tho memory of those who have done
so I Trace them, in thought, through
out past ages: tho early Christians,
amid constant persecution from Jew
and Gentile; the saints of the middle
ages —those lights shining in darkness,
of whom the world was not worthy;
the great reformers, who were not
afraid to lift up their testimony against
prevailing errors and corruptions, and
boldly to come forth from tho great
apostacy ; the Christian philanthropist
of later times—men whose love to
Christ has constrained them to devote
themselves to the service in various
ways; who have been the means of
reviving the work of true religion at
home, and who have gone forth to pro
claim tho gospel abroad, and sought to
undo tho heavy burdens which still ex
isted in lands enjoying Christian light
and liberty. How dear to us is the
memory of men like these! how sacred
are their names! how bright tho ex
ample which they have left us ! And
why? They lived to Christ; they
loved and served him, and counted all
things but loss for the excellency of the
knowledge of liis name.— Nivens.
As White as Snow—lsaiah i. 18.
That is a beautiful thought of the la
mented Dr. James Hamilton : Suppose
that every one were to mark in golden
letters tho text which has been the
means of saving his soul. The Apostle
Paul would mark tho words, “Saul,
Saul, why persecutest thou mo?” for it
was these words, spoken by Jesus from
the dazzling light, that made him anew
creature. In the Bible of the Mace
donian jailor tho letters would be
found at Acts xvi. 31: “Believe on the
Lord .Torus Christ, and thou shaft be
savedfor embracing this simple otter
he rejoiced, believing in God with all
his house. Martin Luther would print
tho text, “The just shall live by faith,"
in gold : for that text, spoken Jjy the
gentle lips of the vicar-general, guided
him to peace ; and the young monk of
Erfurth, reduced by lasts, and tears and
struggles, to tho verge of the grave,
found rest in tho wound of Jesus. In
the Bible of Bunyan, tjio mark would
he found at “Yet there is room.” It
was through the lattice of these words
that he first saw tho cross, and ho
thought God had put them into the
Bible to meet his special case. And the
ironside soldier would indicato Eccl. xi.
9 ; for it was there tho bullet stopped,
which, but for the interposing Bible,
would have pierced his bosom; and
when tho battle was over ho read,
“Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth,
and let thy heart cheer thee in the
days of thy youth, and walk in tho
ways of thine heart, and in the sight
of thine eyes; but know thou that
for all these things God will bring
thee into judgment.” But who can
tell how many would enshrine in gold
a text which has comforted millions,
and which is destined to comfort mil
lions more; or what words do we so
instinctively turn to, in directing anx
ious souls to Christ, as these: “Como
now, and let us reason together, saith
the Lord ; though your sius be as scar
let, they shall be as white as snow,
though they he red liko crimson, they
shall he as wool."— Monitor.
Censoriousness.
There is an uncommon beauty, force
and propriety in that caution which
our Saviour gives us: ‘ And why be
holdcst thou the mote that is in thy
brother’s eye, but considerest not the
beam that is in thine own eye ; or how
wilt thou say to thy brother, Lot me
pull out tho mote out of thine eye, and
behold a beam in thinOownoyo? Thou
hypocrite! first cast the beam out of
thine own eye, and then shalt thou see
clearly to cast out tho mote out of thy
brother’s eye ” In which words these
four things are plainly intimated: First,
that some are much more quick-sight
ed to discern tho faults and blemishes
of others than their own; can spy a
mote in another’s eye soonor than a
beam in their own. Second, that they
are often the most forward to correct
and cure the foibles of others, who are
most unqualified for that office. Th#
beam in their own eyes makes them
altogether unfit to pull out the mote
from their brother’s. A man half blind
himself, should never set up for an ocu
list. Third, they who are inclined to
deal in censure, should always begin at
home. Fourth, great censoriousness is
great hypocrisy.
This common failing of human na
ture the heathen were very sensible of,
and imagined in the following manner:
Every jnan (say they) carries a wallet,
or two bags, with him ; the one hang
ing before him, and the other behind
him; into that before, he puts the
faults of others ; into that behind, his
own ; by which means he never sees
his own failings, while he has those of
others always before his eyes. — John
Mason.
Devoutness —One condition of de
voutness is active and continual occu
pation in the Lord’s service. What
exercise does for the body, usefulness
does for the soul, in quickening the
circulation through the entire system,
and in giving a healthy play to tho or
gans and faculties of our being. Such
occupation may be confined to the lour
walls of a house. It is not essentia! to
it that it should ho prominent, or va
ried, or arduous, or indeed of any spec
ial sort or kind whatever. All that is
necessary is, that each Christian per
son should feel himself a laborer in tho
Lord’s vineyard, and should bo doing
with humility and cheerfulness what
the Lord gives him to do, whatever
and wherever it may be. This alone
(unless sickness or other cause of ina
bility prevent it) can keep the heart
awake, tho will obedient, tho mind
ready, the conscience pure. If it in
volve self-denial, so much tho better.
Nay, the chances are that if there is
no self-denial about it, we are pleasing
ourselves, instead ot pleasing Christ
Some people are so constituted that
they would find it harder to overcome
natural diffidence in visiting tho sick,
or oven in teaching a class of children,
than to eat dry. bread for a year. But
to master self is the meaning of sanc
tification ; and the sure and certain re
ward of following our Saviour wherev
er he leads us is f that >vo are thereby
strengthened for the daily conflict with
sloth and selfishness in our own hearts,
and that in ministering to others wo
are benefiting oitrselves.— Rev. A. W.
Thorold.
A hide in Christ. —There is safety
nowhere else. With hini are the words
of eternal life, and life itself. In him
dwells all fulness of grace. He is the
light of his people and the world. In
him may our lives bo hid, and under
the shadow of his wing may we abide
always. Tho human heart is restless,
and ill at ease. Like tho dove let loose
from the ark, it finds no placo until it
returns to its home. in the
bosom of a compassionate Saviour; may
it rest and be blessed. There tho
storms of the world do not reach:
There is no sound of strife, no ruuo
clamors, no meeting of men in deadly
conflict. There is joy unspeakable,
and full of glory. There is heaven.
Rest here, O my soul, for it is a place
of broad streams and green pastures.
Sorrow is the furnace that nelts sel
fish hearts together in love.
Most misfortunes may be turned into
blessings by waiting the tide ot attairs.
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR.
Whole Number 1763
A Parable.
A nobleman had a Dove, a Raven
and an Eagle, belonging to bw palace!
Thero was no sociability or fellowship
prevailing among them Tho Dove fed
on its own food, and bid himself in the
clefts of the rocks, or in the dove-house
nearAjhe palace. The Raven fed upon
dead wlrcasses, and sometimes picked
out tho eyes of little innocent lambs,
if she could pounce upon them in a
chance place ; she also nestled in the top
of trees. Tho Eagle was a royal bird,
flying very high, but yet of a rapacious
character. Sometimes ho would not
mind eating some half a dozen of tho
Doves for his breakfast. He thought
himself the king of birds because ho
flew higher than the}" all. The Dove
greatly dreaded his strong beak, his
wrathful eyes and his sharp grapling
claws. When the gentleman threw
wheat for tho Dovo on tho pavement,
the Raven would have a piece of an oaf'
or the foot of a lamb in its beak ; and.
the Eagle was for taking up some lit
tle child from the cradle to his nest.
Tho Dove is the pious diligent Chris
tian ; tho Raven is tho dissolute and
difficult to be managed ; and the proud,
selfish professor is the Eagle. These'
three characters are too frequently to
he found together, and there is no de
nomination, in church or chapel, with
out these three birds if there arc
any biidi at all thero. It is impos
sible lor three birds, so different in
their dispositions, ever to bo happy
P} r together. Brethren, pray for tho
unity of tho Spirit in the bond of peace.
—Christmas Evans.
Tho Master's Face.
A painter onco. on finishing a magni
ficent picture, called his artist friends
around him to examine it and express
their judgment as to its merits or de
fects. Tho ono in whose taste the au
thor most confided came last to view
the work. “Tell mo truly, brother,”
said the painter, “what do you think is
tho best point in my picture ?” “O
brothor! it is all beautiful; but that
chancel! That is a perfect master
piece—a gem!" With a sorrowful heart
tho artist took his brush and dashed it
over the toil of many a weary day,
and turning to his friends, said: “O
brothers! if there is anything in my
piece more beautiful than tho Master's
face, that I have sought to put there,
let it be gone I”— Eclectic Treasury.
Entire Devotion.— Unless I make
religion my great and engrossing con
cern, I shall he a stranger to all solid
peace and enjoyment. I have at t mes
caught a glimpse of tho comfort which
it yields the spirit, when 1 merge my
will into God’s will—when I resolve to
have no will of my own separate from
God. I feel quite assured that this en
tire renunciation of self, and entire de
votion to God's service, would give a
simplicity and grandeur to my exis
tence—would throw an unclouded sun
shine over all my
* above the cares and provocations
of this life—would enhance even my
sensible gratifications and superadd
those gratifications of a higher order
which constitute the main and essen
tial blessedness of heaven. Omy God,
may it be thus with me! Call me out
of nature’s darkness, into their own
marvellous light. Give me to aspire
after the graces, and hold forth to
my acquaintances, and, above all, to
my children, the example of all righ
teousness. Conform me to the gospel
economy under which I sit —that as
Christ died for sin, I may die to it—
that as he rose again, I may rise to
newness of. life, and feel it my meat
and drink to do thy will — Dr. Chalmers.
“Is Your Life Insured ?—Such was
tho question we heard in passing a
group of men not long ago.—lt was a
propor and important inquiry. But to
our mind it was suggestive of the most
solemn truth in the universe of God.
House, furniture, and mortal existence
are insured by men, so far as a financial
value can bo estimated and secured.
But is thero not of right, in every hu
man form, a soul-life to be insured for
eternity. That work is committed to
Christ, who - bought the right to per
form it with his own blood. Tho flames
may burst at any time from the mate
rial habitation ; death may at any mo
ment strike down the “tabernacle of
flesh but after these, at length, a
burning world I Then whose endless
life shall bo secure in Jesus ? O fellow,
man, is your soul-life insured f
Wesley’s Philosophy. —“At it and
always at it.” Wesley’s philosophy lor
the Christian was good and his life was
a noblo exhortation of its excellence.
Put it on the brain and in the heart of
every professor and the church would
be a mighty power for good—“the
desert would rejoice and blossom as the
rose.-’ Here is a large-field for thought,
and the lukewarm, idle professor, who
docs nothing for the Lord, never has
asked and never will: “Why does not
every Christian adopt this motto ?”
Ho always excepts himself, but com
plains of others for their neglect and
thinks tins is pious and praiseworthy.
Thus, dm not Wesley.
Secret Prayer. —Reader, do you
complain of your languid spirit, your
drooping faith, your fitful affections,
your lukewarm love? May you not
trace much of what you deplore to an
unfrequent chamber? The treasures
are locked up from you, bocauso you
have suffered the key to rust; the hands
hang down, because they have ceased
to bo uplifted in prayer. Without pray
er, it is the pilgrim without a staff;
the seaman without a compass; the
soldier going unarmed and unharness
ed to battle! — Macduff.
Individual Christians, why these
bitter estrangements, these censorious
words, these harsh judgments,this want
of kind consideration of the feelings and
failings of thoge who may differ from
you ? Why are your friendships so of
ten like the summer brook, soon dried ?
You hope, oro long, to meet in glory.
Doubtless, when you enter on that
“Sabbath of love,” many a greeting
will be this, “Alas I my brother, that
on earth I did not love thee more !”
Macduff. '
Argue not with a man whom you
know to be of an obstinate temper, for
when he is once contradicted, his mind
is barred up against all light and infor
mation. Arguments though never so
well grounded, do but provoke him and
make him even afraid to be convinced
of the truth.
Two things well considered, would
prevent many quarrels; first to have
it well ascertained whether we are dis
puting about terms rather than things;
and, secondly, to examine whether that
on which we differ, is worth contend
ing about,