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. ftnntlecM ft'hmiian AtUotajc,
THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
YOL. XXXIII. NO. 10.
(Srigtnal jjoefrn.
Not Dead.
MATTHEW XXII. 32.
Does he live whom we call dead ?
Does he live for me ?
Though laid in the earth’s cold bed,
The glance of his beaming eyes,
Shall I once more see,
With a sweet and glad surprise ’
Whom they buried in the grave,
Many years ago,
Our own beautiful and brave,
Again,'shall we hear his voice?
Oh! if this be so,
Then, onr hearts, rejoice ! rejoice !
God, so merciful and kind,
Kound the human heart.
Such tendrils had never twined,
Twiued even witli its very core.
Then, to tear apart,
Forever and evermore.
No! no! all these broken ties
He’ll again unite,
Where tears are wiped from the eye3,
Where sighing and sorrow' erase,
In the land of light,
God’s Heaven of joy and peace.
Where pain and parting aro o’er,
There, our lov’d we’ll meet—
Meet on Eternity’s shore—
And, while its cycles shall roll,
Hold communion sweet,
Heart with heart, and soul with sonl.
Yes! they live, whom we call dead,
Even live and love,
Where soul with soul shall be wed,
Where spirit and spirit unite,
This, we’ll fully prove,
When our faith is turn’d to sight.
W’e shall know them for the same,
And by them shad be known ;
We shall call them by their name,
Ev’n, that name so sweet and dear—
Sweet as music’s tone —
That we used to call them here.
Yes! together we shall walk,
Hand in baud, once more,
And, together, sit and talk,
Hour by hour, and day by day,
As in days of yore,
Ere God call’d them hence away.
Yes! for all, unto Him, live,
The ever living God,
And our dead again He’ll give
To our longing hearts and eyes;
Though buried ’neath the sod,
Unto life aud love they’ll rise,
Forever, ever more, in the skies.
M. M.
Columbia, S. I'ehruury 21 .si, 1870.
Tlie Last Day.
The last great day, the day of days, is come,
The latest hour of time has struck—lts final doom.
I hear the bell, the great alarm bell,
Tolling the knell of time—earth’s funeral knell.
Time was. Eternity is ushered iu.
The cycles of Eternity begiu.
The earth flames from the centre to the pole ;
The Bea is boiling: W'aves like lava roll,
Lit up with supernatural, splendid glow.
I see a floating cloud, approuching slow,
And on that cloud there is a great white throne
Arched by a rainbow. On the cloud sits One,
Like to the Sou of Man. Him I behold—
His face like sunbeams flashed from burnisjied
gold;
While just before Him lie the books—the book
Os life—the book of death. Again I look,
The hook of dread remembrances. And while,
This brigtit appearance X behold, I smile
With joy that He is come to be admired
Os all His saints. He comes, the loug desired,
The loug expected. But there stands a crowd,
Os miserable wretches, wailing loud,
Grouching in horror themselves to conceal,
Tremblingly, as biast on blast and peal on peal,
Os the last trumpet sounds. Vet still they look.
And still their eyes the dread sight must brook,
Os Him they pierced. The friglitoued crowd uow
fly
To seek tlie rock 9 anil hills, while loud they cry,
“Hocks, full on us, uud hide us from the face
Os Jesus. Hide us from the dreadful blaze,
Os His fleree wrath.” But yet they cauuot hide
From tlie face of Jesus Christ, the man who died.
And now is coma to judgment. They must see
llis face, in terror mute. In vain they lice.
They cannot Sit at Jesus’s right hand,
Clothed in white robes; nor can they join tlie
grand,
Triumphal march of Jesus in the clouds:
Nor share His triumph, those poor wretched crowds.
They shall behold it, hut shall not be there.
Methinks I see it now; the Saviour dear,
Rides in his chariot on the clouds to heaven ;
Hark, how His mighty coursers, swiftly driven,
Make the sky rattle up heaven’s mighty hills.
While bound in fetters, at his chariot wheel,
Captive he drags the devil, death, and hell.
I see the saints, a happy, joyous train,
In glad procession throng the etherial plain.
Hark, how they clap their hands, and how they
sing,
Triumphaut anthems to the Saviour King.
Hark, how they shout:—“Thou hast ascended
high,
And captive Thou hast led captivity.”
And hark again, the solemn lay they cliaut,
“Hallelujah! the Lord God Omnipotent,
Doth ever reign.” With crowns upon their brow,
With rapturous faces—garments white as snow,
Hark! how their songs swell up to highest heaven,
With the loud sound, arc, heaven’s high, arches
riven.
While the Eternal answers from His throne,
"I will rejoice; joy over these alone,
With singing will I over them rejoice,
For these have I uuto me betrothed,
In everlasting loving kindnesses.”
W lI.IIF.IMINA.
m
Contributions.
Clirist Stilling the Wind.
4 * And lie went up unto them in the ship, ami tho
winds ceased.” Mark vi. 51.
The disciples had been toiling long and
hard, but had made little headway. The
difficulty was not in the construction of the
ship. It had rode the waves before, and
did well afterwards. There was no want of
skill with the oarsmen ; some well-trained
and well-tried arms were aboard. Nor were
they careless or idle amid the danger ; for
the Master himself saw them “toiling in
rowing.” They did all of man’s work at the
time, yet without avail. There was an ele
ment against them which no human power
could overcome. The furies of the moun
tains were combined, and were breathing
down their bitter blast upon the devoted
ship.
There was the germ of “the true vine,”
there the little Church of Christ. The sal
vation of the world is at the mercy of the
waves. Let the little ship be destroyed,
and the powers of darkness will ever have
dominion. The strength of the oarsman’s
arm grows weak, and the nerve of his heart
fails. The demons are triumphant; victory
seems in hand. Is the work of God imper
fect and to be destroyed ? No, never. The
ever watchful eye of the Son of God looks
on; and looking down through coming ages,
He only wants that a great work may be
wrought, a glorious lesson taught the sons
of men. Man’s insufficiency is being dem
onstrated. When completed, the Master
leaves his midnight devotions and goes to
establish forever the all-sufficiency of the
presence and power of the Saviour of the
world. His divine step is felt on the waters,
and the rolling waves sink down. The
majesty of his -presence is in the ship and
the winds cease. It was not necessary that
he should take the helm and oar, and
by supernatural strength drive the vessel
through the mad billows. Nor was it neces
sary that he take wings and go intt> the hills
and there chain the furious winds. He
comes into the ship, and all is well : his
presence alone is the “peace, be still,” that
calms other waves, as well as Genncsaret’s.
How significant !
The God of this world is constantly
breathing out his billowing, blasting breath
upon the sea of life, causing waves of
trouble to rise, and the little barks of men
to be tossed about. Many of these barks go
down. Others sport awhile in the oblivious
eddies of life, to meet the same fate,
others, however, glide in smooth seas or
ride the rugged waves in safety. The in
mates call and respond joyfully to each
other. They hold sweet communion, and
ever follow the glorious flag-ship, whose
bow is always directed to the ports, prosperi
ty, happiness, life eternal. Why is this?
Christ aboard. Wisdom and grace in the
heart. Oh ! what a change then comes over
the face of tlie great deep of man’s life,
when tiie old man, Adam is put off, and
new man, Christ Jesus, put on. All oppos
ing winds cease. The dark rolling waters
grow bright and smooth, leaving only the
little wavelets, to increase life’s beauty by
catching and reflecting the glorious rays of
gospel sunlight. Then man lives to some
purpose, and is constantly advancing to
ward the kingdom of God. Until then, he
must toil in vain. He may have all the wis
dom and skill of the world combined;
they will be impotent before the great adver
sities of life. What folly for man to at
tempt the voyage of life alone ! And what
folly for him to stand in the gorges of infi
delity and worldly-mindedness, and blow his
little anathemas against the religion and
Church of God! Christ will laugh at his
calamity, and, iu the judgment one “ depart ”
will banish a whole world of such characters.
Young man, bo not deceived; if you
would be prosperous, and useful aud happy
in life, as well as saved in the end, you must
have Christ to dwell with you. Ask him to
fit up the temple of your heart, and there
remain forever.
And ye old man, it may now be too late
for you to make a voyage through life. You
aro perhaps stranded upon the shore, whence
you started more than fifty years ago. But
you liavo yet the dark Jordan of death to
cross. You are in danger of being sub
merged and carried into the burning, bot
tomless pit beneath its surging waters.
You may, however, pass safely over and be
landed by the tree of life in the city of God.
But Christ, tlie captain of your salvation,
must be in your heart. Though yon have
ignored him so long, yet he is willing to
help you in this last extremity. Call upon
him ; “come without delay,” wait not a mo
ment. You may be in the rugged stream
ere you know it.
And ye men of God, ye whose it is to
drive and direct the old ship of Zion,
though your vessel was divinely constructed
and her timber the eternal decrees of God,
himself ; though she has been successful in
“landing many thousands and may land as
many more,” yet the Savour ever present
must be her guide, her life. Without him
she “can do nothing.”
What a work there is for the Church to
do. Look out upon the great deep of life.
Heaven smiles ; all is calm. See the thous
ands of little barks, sporting on the waters,
the great majority choosing the delusive bub
bles of sin. The great waves of trouble and
death will soon be upon them, You call to
them : you warn them of their danger, and
bid them come into the Church for safety.
They hear not your voice. They laugh at
your alarm.- They do not see that you are
blessed with tlie Master’s presence ; they
do not recognize the tonos of him, who
spoke as “man never spoke.” Oh trifle not
with them longer ! Show forth to the world
that Christ is in your hearts, in your lives,
in your preaching, in your church, every- -
where. Let them hear through you, tlie
cheering strains of his voice, “come unto
me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden.”
But hope grows weary, and the heart sick,
when we turn the eye upon our old ship of
State. She was a thing of beauty, nobly
formed, and has had many wise captains
aud skillful men to guide and propel her.
She has been far advanced toward the port
of Christian civilization. But the winds have
driven her back, and we find her to-day, only
a few furlongs off the coast of barbarism,
divested of her glory, lying across a great
political billow, shivering from stem to
stem as if to go to pieoos in a moment.
Why ? No Saviour aboard. He has prayed
in the mountain and walked continually
upon the waters of our nation, ready to
stay the winds and give safety to the ship at
any moment. But He has been permitted
to “pass by.” There was none to “cry
out,” and ask his help. Oh, ye rulers, it
is time that you all “see him” aud be
"troubled." It is time, ere you “come out
of the ship,” that you “straightway know
him,” and that you run throughout the
“whole region round about,” and carry to
him, on beds of peace aud love, tlie crip
pled and diseased laws of our land. Oh !
that we could hear his voice talking with us
to-day, and bidding us to “be of good cheer;
it is I, be not afraid.” Como, Lord Jesus,
come quickly.
Doctrine anfo (L^pcrimce.
From the English Independent.
Clirist a Sacrifice for Siu.
In your brief comments on the sermon
by Dr. Temple after his enthrone
ment as Bishop of Exeter you represent
him as stating that ‘ ‘the highest revelation
of God to man” is the life of our Lord Jesus
Clirist, “in the contemplation of which”
(you say) “he apparently believes the cure for
sin is to be found.” This, I apprehend,
whether actually held by Dr. Temple or not,
is one of the prevailing errors of the age.
Its direct contradiction to the plain state
ments of the New Testament appear to me
patent and obvious, for nothing is more
clearly taught by our Lord aud His Apostles
than that the spiritual life in man is gene
rated and nurtured by believing contempla
tion, not of the life and example of Christ,
but of His peculiar and vicarious sufferings
and death in immediate connection with
His resurrection. The subject being one
of paramount importance, you will perhaps
permit me to refer to a few out of numerous
passages in proof of this.
We have lirst the express testimony of our
Lord’s forerunner, whose office it was to in
troduce Him, and who announced Him un
der this designation, “The Lamb of God,”
not to be contemplated as an example of
meekness and gentleness, of quiet submis
sion to injuries, and patient endurance of
suffering, but as the great sacrifioial victim
“which taketb away the sins of the world,”
John i. 29,30. Paul, in reference to the
Jewish feast of unleavened bread says :
“Even Christ, our passover” (paschal lamb)
“is sacrificed for us.” 1 Cor. v. 7.
Our Lord Himself tells us that He came
“to give His life a ransom” (or price of re
demption) “for many,” Matt. xx. 28; and
Peter teaches the same truth, 1 Ep. i. 18,
“Ye arc redeemed with the precious blood
of Christ,” as of an immaculate, sacrificial
lamb.
In His conversation with Nicodemns our
Lord tells him that God had sent His only
begotten Son into the world that the world
through Him might be saved, and that in
order to the accomplishment of this great
purpose it was necessary that He should be
“lifted up,” as Moses lifted up the serpent
of brass in the wilderness for the instanta
neous cure of the serpent-bitten Israelites,
pointing most clearly to His death upon
the cross. (Compare John viii. 28, xii. 32,
33.) “That whosoever believeth in Him”
(as so- lifted up) “should not perish, hut
have everlasting life.” John iii. 'l6.
In His discourse with the Jews recorded
in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel we
have a very remarkable declaration concen
ing Himself, informing them what He was
about to do, in order that men might “have
life,” and what God required of them in or
der that they might obtain it. “I am the
living” (or life-giving) “bread which came
down from heaven; if any man eat of this
bread, he shall live forever, and the bread
which I will give is my flesh, which I will
give for the life of the world. Verily, veri
ly, I say unto you, unless ye eat the flesh of
the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye
have no life in you. Whoso eateth My
flesh aud drinketh My blood hath everlast
ing life, and I will raise him up at the last
day. For My flesh is truly food and My
blood is truly drink,” vers. 50—55. Can
there he any reasonable doubt that by these
strong and figurative terms, “eating My
flesh and drinking My blood,” our Lord
meant the believing reception of the habit
ual contemplation of the truth relating to
the offspring of His body on the cross as
the means of obtaining and preserving
spiritual life, and of being nourished up to
everlasting life ? This appears to be what
Paul meant by his living faith in “the Son
of God who loved me and gave Himself for
me.” Gal. ii. 20.
Our Lord describes His death as the
means of procuring forgiveness of sins. At
His last celebration of the paschal supper,
speaking of the wine contained in the eup,
He says, “This represents My blood of the
new covenant, which is” (about to be)
“poured out for many in order to tlio for
giveness of sins,” Matt. xxvi. 28; and Paul
in two of his epistles gives expression to the
same truth—“ln whom we have redemption
through His blood—the forgiveness of sins.”
Eph. i. 7, Col. i. 14.
The most careless reader of tlie apostoli
cal epistles oan scarcely fail to observe how
continually the writers refer to the death ol'
Christ, or to His blood poured out on the
cross as the medium through which all spirit
ual blessings flow to men, tho foundation
on which the whole weight and stress of our
salvation is laid, and the sole ground of
hope towards God of acceptance with Him,
and of everlasting life and blessedness in
His love and favor.
Paul had been made a practical .father to
many of the Corinthians, by what means he
himself tells us, “I have bogottun you
through the Gospel,” 2 Cor. iv. 15 ; the
Gospel which he had preached to them, and
which they had believed, by which also he
tells them “they are saved if they keep it in
memory” (or hold it fast.) What that Gos
pel was he had most explicitly informed
them at the beginning of his first epistle,
the main topic, the comprehensive sum and
substance, being “Christ crucified.” i. 17,
18, ii. 2, xv. I—4.
The Gospel is “the word of reconcilia
tion.” Men are reconciled to God by the
death of His Son —by belief of the love
which God manifested to our fallen race iu
giving His own Son to die in their stead.
Rom. v. 8, lrt, 2 Cor. v. 18—21.
“Know ye not,” said Paul to the Ro
mans (vi. 3,) “that so many of us as were
baptized unto Christ were baptized unto”
(a belief of) “His death?”
lam seriously apprehensive although we
are assured that old truths are only putting
on new shapes, public preachers are but
adopting a less technical theology, while
nothing that deserves to be called funda
mental is endangered at all, that neverthe
less the substance of the evangelical doctrine
is in groat danger of being gradually under
mined, and the genuine Gospel so diluted
as to be deprived of its saving power as the
instrument employed by tho Holy Spirit,
when understood and believed, to cleanse
the conscience from guilt and purify tho
heart from pollution. The lamentable pre
vailing tendency to treat doctrinal truth un
der the name of “dogma” as matter of very
inferior and secondary importance, if not of
absolute indifference, will, I greatly fear,
unless checked and counteracted, be pro
ductive of results most injurious and even
disastrous to tho spiritual welfare of the
Church.
It will greatly confirm the accuracy of the
view which I am compelled to take of this
new version of the Gospel if I quote a few
passages from the leading article, in the
number published on the Bth inst., of a
weekly newspaper called The Inquirer, one
of the recognized organs of English Unita
rians, which will show how they regard this
change iu the statement of “the way of sal
vation,” and will serve also to indicate whith
er it tends and whereunto it may grow.
“The life of Christ forms the grand central point
of Christianity, and in the reverent study and ear
nest practical imitation of that Divine image,
Christians of all parties may surely feel that they
have a common bond of union and an object of
religious faith to which our speculative differences
respecting the theological influences of His suf
ferings and death are comparatively subordinate.
The great error of Christendom for long centuries
has been that men’s thoughts have been directed
almost exclusively to the sufferings and death of
Christ, and not to His Holy life and character.
Theologians here even have perplexed themselves
and their tollowers with subtle questions respect
ing the influence of our Lord’s sufferings and
death upon the mind and purposes of God, instead
of devoutly studying that sublime martyrdom us
the noblest illustration of self sacrificing love and
patient gentleness and heroic magnanimity. They
have so entirely lost sight of the human side of
Christ’s charaoter that they have converted even
His sufferings into a mere dogma; and with thtir
old Hebrew conceptions of ‘sacrifice by the shed
ding of blood,’ ‘propitiation,’ and the like—obso
lete images and mere local figures of speech—have
well-nigh lost the highest moral conception of
self-sacrifice.”
I will leave these extracts to speak for
themselves without appending any remarks
of my own. Fas est et ab lioste doceri.
Let us stand aloof from all religious fel
lowship or association with those by whom
this fundamental doctrine of Christianity is
thus openly assailed. These are surely
times in which it becomes us to be “valiant
for the truth,” to “contend earnestly for the
faith once for all delivered to the saints, ” to
“strive together for the faith of the Gospel”
—the unchanging, everlasting Gospel which,
may I not say, like its Divine Author and
great subject, is “the same yesterday and to
day and forever ?” J. W.
A Prayer.
“ Turn us again, O Lord God of Hosts.”—Psalm
lxxx. 19.
Here is a prayer for conversion to God.
Turn us again. When thou art converted,
said Christ to Peter, strengthen the brethren.
Peter had already been converted; and the
conversion to which the Saviour referred was
his being turned from the sin of denying
him. So this prayer implies that they who
offer it have been converted, but have wan
dered from God and fallen into sin, and they
pray that they may be turned again, or con
verted from their wanderings, brought back
to God, and restored to his favor.
This prayer implies previous conversion,
for it is, Turn us again. It implies wander
ing, else why should we need to be turned.
It implies desire to be brought back, else
why call upon God to turn us. It implies a
purpose to return, for it is but mockery to
ask God to turn us, while we are unresolved
to return to him. A revival is a turning
again of God’s people unto him; and if we
have any desire for a season of refreshing
from the presence of the Lord, our constant
prayer should be, Turn us again, O Lord of
Hosts, cause thy face to shine, and we shall
be saved.
The terms ®f salvation are the same in all
ages.
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE A CO., POR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
MACON, GA., FRIDAY, MARCH 11, 1870..
How Mr. Stringent Became Lift- j
eral.
Mr. Stringent was sixty years old—very j
old, I should have called him, when I was a
child. He was “brought up” in a thrifty,
economical way. His father was a small,
snug farmer; but, ns his wants were but
few, he was called “well to do in the world,”
which I suppose, means “well to do for this
world.” His children received a fair educa
tion, aud were always among the best
scholars. No better cows and no better
sheep were owned in those parts, than
those owned by old Mr. Stringent. His
maxim was, “keep what yon have got, and
get all you can.” This maxim he inculcat
ed most faithfully into the minds of his
children. In process of time old Stringent
died, and, fortunately, such men carry noth
ing with them. The children grew up and
were scattered abroad, and I have nothing
to say about them, except that they were all
keen to gain this world. lam to speak of
the youngest son, Simon, who took “the
old place,” that is, the farm, agreeing to
pay off his brothers and sisters their shares
as fast as he could earn it.
And now, Simon, in his youth, was mar
ried and settled at “Craig’s Valley,” as the
farm waß called. He had to support him
self and his young family, and yearly pay
a good round sum toward his debt. Early
and late he toiled. Carefully aud anxiously
ha saved everything possible. His expen
ses were the lowest possible ; everything
went to “the debt.” And if there was any
thing Simon dreaded more than another, it
was a call for charity, or, as he termed it,
“the everlasting contribution box.” The
announcement that a “collection would be
made next Sabbath,” would invariably make
him unwell and unable to attend chapel.
Indeed so delicate was his constitution that
.once in a while, when he had been caught,
he was sure to have the nose-bleed, and be .
compelled to go out before the box reached
him. But years passed on, and his habits
grew strong and his debts feeble, until at
the end of fifteen years, he had paid off
every debt, and owned a large farm free
from nearly every incumbrance.
But now anew chapter in his life was to
be experienced. There was an outpouring
of the Holy Spirit upon the people. Very
many sang the new song. Very many re
joiced in tlie hope of eternal life. Several
of the children of Simon- were among the
new born children of light. Simon was the
last to become interested. He was the last
to feel his sins ; and he struggled and re
sisted a long, long time, before he yielded
to the demands and conditions of Christ.
Then he was very slow to take up the crosses
as they lay in his path. He was afraid to
commit himself. He was slow to erect the
altar of prayer in his house. He was slow
to confess Christ before the world. But he
battled all these difficulties and overcame
them, because he really had Christian prin
ciples in his soul. But now he met a diffi
culty which seemed insurmountable, unex
pected, and very trying. He found that
now his brethren and his pastor took it for
granted that he would be liberal. How
could he, who had never given away a shill
ing a year, be expected to give tens and
even hundreds ? How hard to understand
the Christian fact—that “none of us liveth
to himself!” He tried to convince himself
that a man’s first duty is to provide for his
family; and oonscience told him that he
had been doing nothing else all his life. He
tried to con vice himself that “Charity be
gins at home ;” and conscience told him
that he wanted it to stop there also. When
he read his Bible, he seemed as if he was
always stumbling upon such texts as “Free
ly ye have received, freely give.” One day
he sat a long time motionless, trying to con
vince himself that he had not received
much. “Why, what little I have, I earned
myself by hard labor. Pray, what have I
received ?” and then conscience would be
gin her whispers : “Why, Simon Stringent,
you received a good constitution—you were
never sick a day in all your life !”
“That is true.”
“And you received a shrewd mind ; you
know how to manage and make money.
And you have received a great deal of sun
shine, and a great many rains on your farm,
and a great increase of your cattle and
flocks ; and you have received a large heal
thy family, no deaths in it, and you have
received many years of life already, and
hope for more ; and you have received the
Sabbath and its blessings]; and you have, as
you hope, received the pardon of your sins,
and a hope of life eternal through God’s
own Son. Received! Why, you have re
ceived everything ; it has been nothing but
receiving, and now you must give !”
O Simon ! how hard you breathe! How
the perspiration stands on your brow ! Had
he been dreaming, or had the Spirit of God
been teaching him !
The very next day, Simon, or, as he was
called, Mr. Stringent, hoard a loud and ten
der appeal from the missionary field. Aud
now a collection was to be made, not in the
chapel where every man could dodge or con
ceal his parsimony, but by an open sub
scription, black aud white. The collector
was to come around at once. Then it was
that the dialogue, which is said to have ta
ken place between Mr. Stringent and the
devil occurred.
“How much must I giva ?” said Strin
gent.
“As little asyou can—and be respectable,”
said the devil.
“I am very far from being rich,” said
Stringent.
“You are the richest man in the church,”
said conscience.
“Suppose I give five pounds.”
“Fully enough,” said the tempter.
“Freely ye have received, freely give,”
said conscience.
“Remember your great family, their
schooling and clothing, and the new furni
ture and the new carriage which you need,”
said the tempter.
“I shall put down ten pounds,” said
Stringent.
“You are beside yourself! Why, they,
will expect you to do in like proportion for
everything hereafter. There’s no end to
these calls,” said the tempter.
“I shall put down twenty pounds,” said
Stringent.
“Yes, but do consider,” said the tempter;
“you know your taxes are awful this year;
and you know your oats are very light, and
they sell by weight, and not by the bushel,
as they once did; and the drought has injur
ed your grass, and your fruit will be next to
nothing.”
“Yes,” said conscience ; “but your corn
is magnificent, and so are your potatoes ;
and if hay is light, the price is heavy; and
your workmen never earned as much as they
do this year ; and the shipment of timber,
which had been growing long before you
were born, has brought an enormous price. ”
“I shall put down fifty pounds !
“O Mr. Stringent! Mr. Stringent ! you
are nearly crazy—to throw away your money
so ! Why, sir, with that sum you could buy
two young cows, or ten first-rate—”
“Get out—get out, you tempter of my
soul ! I shall put down one hundred pounds
this time, and if you don’t let me alone, I
declare I will double it!”
And Mr. Stringent did put it down ; and
he felt so much better, and grew so strong
under it, that it was well understood be
tween him and the devil, ever after, that if
he was tempted, he would double his chari
ties. And so well did he abide by it, that
he became one of the most liberal men in
the community. And when he went round
to collect for charities, as he often did—the
most liberal man always being the best col
lector —and when his brethren would make
excuses, he would shake his head and say,
“I only wish you could have such dialogues
with the devil as I have had !” — The Church.
Entire Devotion. —Unless I make reli
gion my great and engrtissing concern, I
shall be a stranger to all solid peace and en
joyment. I have at times caught a glimpse
of the comfort which it yields the spirit,
when I 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 entire renunciation of self, and
entire devotion to God’s service, would give
a simplicity and grandeur to my existence—
would throw an unclouded sunshine over
all my ways—would raise me above the
cares and provocations of this life—would
enhance even my sensible gratifications and
superadd those gratifications of a higher or-
der which constitute the main and essential
tdessedness of heaven. Omy God, may it
be thus with me ! Call me out of nature’s
darkness into thine own marvellous light.
Give me to aspire after the graces, and hold
forth to my acquaintances, and above all, to
my oliildren, the example of all righteous
ness. 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, aud feel it my
meat and drink to do thy will.
Japan Opening to tlie Gospel.
Theßev. Messrs. David Thompson, Ed
ward Comes and C. Carothers, missionaries
of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Mis
sions in Japan, have written a letter ad
dressed to the ministry and membership of
the United Presbyterian Church, in which
they indulge in hopeful prospects for the
future of the Japanese. They tell us—
“Budhism, which has been so long the
controlling religion of the empire, has been
virtually rejected by the government during
the present year, and forbidden to receive
any more pupils for its priesthood. This is
itsjleath blow, and so many of the priests
and people regard it. At the same time,
the Government is trying to revive Shinto
ism, the ancient faith of the land. But
there is little in it to uphold. It is too bald
a:>d cold a system to attract the masses. The
ruling and educated classes have long been
Confucionists. But the study of the litera
ture and sciences of the West is taking the
place of the study of Confueionism and tho
Chinese language.
“Asa natural consequence, these are be
coming neglected. This decline of the Chi
nese will also hasten the complete downfall
of Buddhism, and seriously weaken all the
religious systems, as the religious literature
is so largely in that language. The priests
and more intelligent of the people aro toss
ed on a sea of wild conjecture as to what
will be the religious future of the land, nnd
they are, perhaps, now studj-ing the subject
of religion as never before.
“The demand upon us for Chinese and
English Bibles, and for books and tracts on
Christianity, during the last year, has been
very great. A few of the most intelligent
of the priesthood have sought personal in
terviews with the missionaries to discuss re
ligious subjects. The high priests of some
of the principal temples have sent for copies
of everything we had on Chriitianity. An
educated man, not a Christian, has a school
of about a hundred pupils iu Yedo, in
which he teaehes the Chinese Bible and a
Chinese translation of the evidences of
Christianity, and he has signified his desire
to have a missionary come and explain them
to his pupils.
“These are only samples of the facts
which show plainly that now is the Church’s
opportunity, aud that she should have a
large force of active missionaries on the
field without delay. Tho duty is more ur
gent as the language is a difficult one, re
quiring two or more years of close study be
fore it can be spoken with sufficient fluency
for effective preaching.
“Japan is peculiarly an American field.
The completion of the great Pacific Rail
road brings it a month’s travel nearer to
you. It is nearer to the United States than
to any of the other protestaut Christian na
tions, and the work of evangelizing it na
turally devolves upon the American chur
ches. The other Protestant nations have
so interpreted our duty, for so far they
have left the field to American missionaries.
“The Japanese look to the United States
for instruction in all the arts of peace. They
use our school books and apparatus. They
send their young men, for the most part, to
our schools and colleges, and will do so
more exclusively in the future than in the
past. They look to us for teachers, and
thus the preference seems to be for mission
aries, as those best qualified to instruct
them. As we already have the field, and
the greatest influence with the people, shall
we not do our whole duty in entering in
with sufficient force to possess the entire
land ? Iu all the secular departments,
American enterprise is doing her duty—
shall not the American Church show equal
Zealand fidelity.”
Tlioughts about the Ministry by
Ministers.
I longed to be as a flame of fire continually
glowing in the divine service, preaching and
building up Christ’s kingdom to my latest,
my dying hour.— Brainerd.
In times past, when I was hut a young
divine, methought Paul did unwisely in glo
rying so often of his calling in all his epistles;
but I did not understand his purpose; for I
knew not that the ministry of God’s word
was so weighty a matter.— Luther.
I read other books that I may be the bet
ter able to understand the Scriptures.— M.
Henry.
May I be taught to remember that all other
studies are merely subservient to the great
work of ministering holy things to immortal
souls.— Henry Martyn.
Patient application is everything. With
out it you may have a number of half-framed
ideas floating in your mind; but deep, con
nected, large and consistent views of any
subjects, you will never gain.— Miller.
Abhor one hour of idleness as you would
be ashamed of one hour of drunkenness.—
Thomas Shepherd.
One devout thought is worth them (his
books) all.— Leighton.
In my preaching, I could not be satisfied
unless some fruits did appear in my work.—
Bunyan.
I would think it a greater happiness to
gain one soul for Christ than mountains of
silver and gold to myself.— M. Henry.
I long for the conversions of souls more
sensibly than for anything besides! Me
thinks I could not only labor, but die for it
with pleasure.— Doddridge.
He (Alleine) was infinitely and insatiably
greedy for the conversion of sinners.
God is my witness that your (his people’s)
salvation would be two salvations to me, and
your heaven would be as two heavens to me.
— Rutherford.
A.poor country parson, fighting against the
devil in his parish, has nobler ideas than
Alexander had.— Adam.
Now, after forty years preacliiDg of Christ
and his great and sweet salvation, I think I
would rather beg my bread all the laboring
days of the week for the opportunity of pub
lishing the gospel on the Sabbath to an as
sembly of sinful men, than, with such a
privilege, enjoy the richest possessions on
eartli.— J(.hn Brown of Haddington.
That a man is a minister is no token that
he shall not be cast into hell-fire. — A kxandcr.
Oh that I was all heart and soul and spirit
to tell the glorious gospel of Christ to per
ishing multitudes!— R. Hill.
I see that spirituality of mind is the main
qualification for the work of the ministry.—
Urquhart.
We are weak in the pulpit because we are
weak in the closet.— James.
I know not what others think, but for my
own part, I am ashamed of my stupidity,and
wonder at myself that I deal not with my
own and other’s souls as one that looks for
the great day of the Lord; and that I can
have room for almost any other thoughts and
words, and that such astonishing matters do
not wholly absorb my mind. — Barter.
Tell him (his son) that his poor father
learnt his most valuable lessons for the min
istry, and his most useful experience in re
ligion, in the poor man’s cottage. —Legh
Richmond.
Short Sermons. —“ Brevity is not only
the soul of wit,” but soul of wisdom for the
preacher. Who has not been conscious of
a very strong impression from a sermon up
to a certain point, which from an unfortu
nate elongation has been dissipated so that
the final impression has been a weak one ?
The trouble lias been that more members
have been added to the discourse than the
thought could vitalize. The circulation be
comes feeble in these extremities of a ser
mon. The preacher may have been all the
while warming up, but his discourse has
been sensibly cooling off. ‘Non mtdta sed
multum’ —not many things but much, is a
worthy motto for a preacher. A clergyman
died a few years since in Massachusetts who
had been settled over one parish for more
than half a century, and when a parishioner
was asked the secret of his eminent success,
he replied, ‘He never preached a sermon
over thirty minutes long.’” —Watchman and
RtfUdqr.
“If You Lowe Me, You Will Lean
Hard.”
In the memoir of Miss Fidelia Fisk, we
find the following interesting incident,
which we give in her own words. She says:
“A few Sabbaths since I went to Geog Topa
with Mr. Stoddard. It was afternoon, and
I was sitting on a mat near the middle of
the church, which has no seats, and only a
floor of earth. I had been to the exercises
before going to the church, one the Sab
bath-school, and the other a prayer-meet
ing, with my girls. I was weary, nnd long
ed for rest, and, with no support, it seem
ed to me that I could not sit there till
the close of tho service ; nor could I hope
for rest even when that was over, for I must
meet the women readers of the village, and
encourage them in reading their Testaments.
I thought how I would love to be in your
ehurch; but God took the thought from me
very soon, for, finding that there was some
one directly behind me, I looked, and there
was one of the sisters, who had seated her
self so that I might lean upon her. I ob
jected ; but she drew me back to the firm
support she could give, saying, ‘lf you love
me, you will lean hard.’ Did I not then
lean hard ? And then there came the Mas
ter's own voice, ‘lf you love me, you will
lean hard ;’ and I leaned on Him too, and
felt that He had sent the poor woman to
give me a better sermon than I might have
heard even with yon. I was rested long be
fore the church services were finished : and
I afterwards had a long hour with the
women readers, and closed with prayer. A
little after sunset we left, to ride six miles
to our home. I was surprised to find that I
was not at all weary that night, nor in the
morning, and I have rested ever since, re
membering the sweet words, ‘lf you love
me, lean hard. ’ ”
And does not the sympathizing Saviour
say to each one of his friends, “If you love
me, lean hard. ” How many are the emer
gencies in which they feel the need of lean
ing on one stronger than they ? How often,
under the pressure of responsibilities and
cares; duties and trials, are they worn and
weary—well-nigh crushed ? They sensibly
realize that their strength is weakness.
They faint and are ready to fall.
But the compassionate Saviour beholds
them. He well knows all their necessities,
aud his kind invitation to them is, “Come
unto me all ye that labor and are heavy
laden, and I will givo you rest.” Nor is this
a mere mocking invitation. Multitudes
both in heaven and earth can bear witness
to its faithfulness. In their need, they have
taken the Saviour at His word. They have
shown their love to Him by confiding in
Him. They have leaned hard upon Him,
and they have found that He was both will
ing aud able to sustain them. Waiting on
they have renewed their strength.
And Christ would have His people avail
themselves of this privilege to a much lar
ger extent than they do. He well knows
the number and the weight of their bur
dens, and He would not have them bear
them alone. He would have them come
with them all to Him. And, if they will,
He will impart to them abundantly as His
infinite grace. And thus shall they find in
their own blessed experience, that •> »Jen
they are weak then are they strong, and that
they can do all things through Christ, who
streugtheneth them.
Solomon, in his matchless song, repre
sents the Church under the image of a
woman, coming up from the wilderness lean
ing upon her beloved. The people of Christ
are passing throug the wilderness of this
world, on a pilgrimage to a better home be
yond. It is a long and weary pilgrimage,
and they often tire and faint. Sometimes
it seems to them as though they should sink
beneath their But Jesus, their
Almighty and ever-faithful Friend, is with
them. Unseen, he goes with them all the
weary way. He never leaves them, nor for
sakes them. It is their privilege at all
time? to lean on Him. In loving confi
dence, they may lean hard. The harder
they lean, the better will he like it. He
will take it as a token of their affection.
And thus leaning they will be refreshed.
The strong arm of their Saviour will lighten
their burdens, help them over the rough
ness of the way, aud give them ull needful
support in the Valley of the Shadow of
Death.—A. Y. Observer.
Effectual Prayer] Illustrated.
Dr. Guthrie, in his discourses on the Para
bles, gives an illustration from Eastern life,
which throws a flood of light on the succet-s
of the woman pleading with the unjust
judge. He says of her importunity :
This art is carried to the highest perfec
tion in the East. A traveler in Persia tells
how he was besieged by one who solicited a
gift more costly than ho was prepared to
give. The hoary, and as the people esteem
ed him, holy mendicant, sat himself down
before liis gate, throwing up a rude tent to
shelter himself from the noonday sun. There
he remained like a sentinel, nor left his post
but to follow the traveler out of doors, and
return with him. Taking snatches of sleep
during the day, when the other rested in
the house, he kept up a hideous howling,
and clamorous demands, all the hours of
the night—an annoyance whioh, persisted
in for successive -days and nights, and even
weeks, seldom fails, as you can suppose, to
gain its object.
Such were the means by which the widow
gained hers. So soon as ever this unjust
judge took his seat at the gate of the city,
wherein the east courts are held and all
causes heard, his eye, as it roamed over the
crowd, fell on her. There she was, and al
ways was—sorrow in her dress, but deter
mination in the flash of her eye ; her form
bent down with grief, bnt her spirit unbro
ken ; resolved to give the judge no rest till
he had avenged her of her adversary. Now
breaking in on the business of the court,
she is on her feet, passionately demanding
justice, and now, stretched on the ground
at his feet, she piteously implores it. Nor
can he shake her oft - . Denied her suit, she
follows him to his house to interrupt his
leisure and imbitter his pleasures. Her
voice ringing loud on the threshold demand
ing entry, she bursts into his presence, and
is dragged awav by the servants, thrust out,
but only to return, as the ball struck re
bounds, the billow shattered on the rock
falls back into the deep to gather volume
and strength for anew attack. And as by
constant dashing the waves in time cut into
the cliff, which, yielding to the incessant ac
tion of a weaker element, some day bows
his proud head, and precipitating itself for
ward, falls into the sea, which, swallows it
up, sweeps over it with jubilant, triumphant
waves, so the persistence of the widow over
comes the resistance of the judge. Diamond
cuts diamond. She conquers by importu
nity. Yielding to her requests, he says;
“Because this widow troubleth mo, I will
avenge her, lest by her continual coming she
weary me.”
Without Christ.
Did you ever consider tlie’import of that
apostolic expression? Only two words, a
preposition and a noun—the idea contained
lias magnitude and importance not easily
measured. Tho words are descriptive of what
every Christian on earth, and every redeemed
soul in heaven once were; and also of what
every unbeliever on earth and every lost soul
in the world of woo now are—“ without
Christ.” Those best understand the mean
ing of the phrase who have passed through
the trials of life “without Christ;” who
have died “without Christ;” who arc pass
ing their eternity “without Christ.” But
none of them are here to give the explana
tion. What are the facts as we know them?
To be “without Christ” is certainly to be
without spiritual life, “dead in sins.” “He
that hath the Son hath life; but he that hath
not the Son hath not life.” These are in
disputable facts.
It is to be without acceptable righteous
ness. Apart from a personal interest in the
merit of an atoning Savior, imputed through
faith, no one stands justified before God,
“ Accepted in the Belove'd.”
It is to be without valid hope. The Divine
promise to eternal life is to such only as be
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ. “Having
no hope” is descriptive of the condition of
every one who is “ without Christ.”
It is to be without an all-sufficient Helper
in the trials and perplexities of life. Christ
is a friend needed by all, and the occasions
are many when, to be without Him, is to be
wretched indeed,
It is to be without support and solace in
death. None but Jesus can make easy the
bed of the dying. Apart from Him the
passage to another world is dark and fearful.
It is to be without an intercessor at the
final judgment. How dreadful in that hour
to be on trial for eternity, and have no Christ
as an advocate with the Father!
It is to be without a place in heaven. The
mansions prepared by Jesus are for such as
love Him:
“ None‘sliall obtain admittance there
But followers af the Lamb.”
The Crooked Stick.
“Christ was a service for all his mem
bers,” said James Tlierrall, an old osrpen
ter in a village on Salisbury Plain, to a
youDg Christian who complained that she
was unworthy to work for the Lord. “Let
not one of tlie members say, ‘The Head has
no need of me.’ I used to think ns you do
long ago, but He taught me otherwise by a
crooked stick.
“One day my son went to a sale of timber,
and in the lot was a stick so twisted and
bent that I spoke sharply to him: ‘You have
a bad bargain there, lad; that crooked stick
will be of no use to any one. ’
“ ‘lt’s all timber,’ replied my son, not the
least vexed by my reproof. ‘I paid tho
same price for it as the rest. Depend upon
it, no tree grows for nothing. Wait a bit;
don’t fret, father; let us keep a lookout;
there’s a place somewhere for it.-’
“A little time after this I had a cottage to
build; a queer bit of a house it was, and
pretty enough when it was finished; there
was a corner to turn in it, and not a stick in
the yard would fit. I thought of the crook
ed one, and fetched it. Many a hard day’s
work would have failed to prepare a joist
like it. It seemed as if the tree had grown
aside for this very purpose.
“Then, said I, There’s a place for the
crooked stiok, after all! Then there’s a
place for poor James Tlierrall. Dear Lord!
show him the place into whioh he may fit
in building tliy heavenly temple! That
very day I learned that what God gives me
he gives for his glory; and poor and unlet
tered as I was, thero was a work for me.
There is a work for yon; God has some
thing for you to do, and nobody else can
do it!”
This village-carpenter had neither the
knowledge of tho schoolman, nor had he ta
ken a degree at college; yet he was a teach
er of divine truths, and lie was wise in tlie
wisdom of the children of light. He would
often recur to the time when, looking solely
on his own weakness and infirmities, he
overlooked his only source of strength, and
thought he was too jioor and ignorant to
do any thing for the Lord he loved! He
lived to a good old age, a blessing to tho
souls in his neighborhood, and where, as he
liked best to stay, he watched for his Mas
ter. When someone who loved his ease too
well, or child, or servant, or sick one, com
plained, “I can do nothing,” lie would point
to the best built cottage on the plain, with
a pretty bay-window and slanting roof, and
tell them he had once thought the same
himself, but his error had been corrected
by a dumb instructor—a beam in that roof
—a crooked stick, which seemed fit for
nothing; but it found its proper place in tho
building at last, and gavo it a grace aud
strength which no other timber, however
superior in other respects, could have im
parted. Thus the warped tree had preached
to him a sermon on true humility, and made
him from that day a humble steward of the
things of the kingdom.
A Brand from the Burning.
A student of the Episcopal Theological
Seminary in Virginia, who has labored with
much sucoess as a oolporteur, and has seen
Saod springing up wherever he has circulated
le publications, mentions a striking in
stance of reformation effected by the influ
ence of tracts:
“I do not believe the friends of the So
ciety begin to realize what an instrument it
is iu the hands of the Almighty for the pro
motion of good among the erring. The great
trouble with sinners is that they will not
think. Traots accomplish this sooner than
anything else I haveseen tried.
A few weeks ago, as I approached a little
country store, I noticed an old white-headed
man reeling and staggering in a drunken fit.
He began to curse and swear, using very
abusive language. On finding out who I
was, he immediately camo and apologised,
saying, ‘I have been drunk three days; I
know it is wrong; I ask your pardon, sir. I
wish I was a better man.’ I told him he
could be if he would, and that I had some
thing that would help him if ho would read
it carefully. He said he would. I gave him
‘A Word to the Intemperate,’ and ‘Don’t
Swear.’ He crammed them in his pocket,
saying that ho would read them when he got
sober, and he did. He read ‘ A Word to the
Intemperate ’ twice every day regularly. He
aske<l everybody he saw to read it for his
benefit and theirs, and would say, ‘ Ain’t it
the best thing you ever read? Don’t it hit
me exactly! I tell you all, by tho help of
God, I’ll never touch another drop as long
as I live. That was a good man that gave
me this, .and I am going to do better.’
Soou after, he went to a picnic, where his
friends, or enemies rather, coaxed and urged
him to drink with them; but not one drop
would he drink. A few days since, while at
tending a meeting, he was hopefully con
verted. 1 Oh,’ said he, ‘ that tract set me to
thinking, and that, together with_the ser
mon, caused me to take no rest until I found
it in Jesus. I could not stand it. I had to
give myself to God. And now when I meet
him he grasps my hand warmly, and wishes
me God-speed.”— American Messenger.
Effective Christianity.
In regard to that Christianity which the
world most requires today, Bishop Hunting
ton very truly remarks:
We want in you a Christianity that is
Christian across counters, over dinner ta
bles, behind tho neighbor's back as in his
face. Wo want in you the Christianity that
we can find in the temperance of a meal, in
moderation of dress, in respect for authority,
in amiability at home, in veracity and sim
plicity in mixed sooiety. Rowland Hill used
to say, lie would give very little for the re
ligion of a man whose very dog and cat were
not the better for his religion. We want
fewer gossipping, slanderous, peevish, con
ceited Christians.
To make them effectual, all our public re
ligious measures, institutions, benevolent
agencies, missions, need to bo managed on a
high-toned, scrupulous and unquestionable
tone of honor, without evasion or partisan
ship, or over much of the serpent's cunning.
The hand that gives away the Bible must be
unspotted from the world. The money that
sends the missionary to the heathen must be
honestly earned. In short, tho two arms of
the Church—justice and mercy—must be
stretched out, working for man, strengthen
ing the brethren, or else your faith is vain
and ye are yet in your sins.
Appointed to Me.—A voice from tlie sick
room says : —lt helped me immensely last
night, in my pain, to remember the text,
“Wearisome nights are appointed unto me.”
The idea that they were no accident, no
blunder of my physician, but appointed by
my best Friend, this was strength to me.
When all were sleeping, and His eye saw
my weariness, then I was sure that, for in
finitely wise and kind reasons, all was ar
ranged and prepared for me. This stilled
my soul. This is our life lesson. Property
takes wings—friends fail us—good schemes
miscarry—plans of usefulness nre thwarted
by most unlooked for interventions —health
gives out—action gives place to suffering.
Where we were cheerfully doing, we can now
only wait God’s will. Darkness and doubt
shut us in. For many days neither sun nor
stars appear. But all is well; these things
are appointed unto us. Only let us believe
this—let a calm faith recognize the gracions
Providence which shapes all our ways, and
we can then endure until the dawn shall
bring light and joy.— F. G. Clarke, D. D.
God would have us pray with earnestness.
The best proof of earnestness is simplicity.
Better in God’s sight are the broken but
heartfelt utterances of some than those who
think themselves wonderful in prayer.
If you would have the Lord love you, be
a cheerful giver.
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR
WHOLE NUMBER 1793.
Infidelity and tlie Faith of a Child.
A little girl, eight years of age, poorly
clad, was one day sitting on the grass oppo
site the cottage of her father, who was a poor
day-laborer. Bnt she loved Jesus, and was
singing hymns, and every time she pro
nounced the name of Jesus her eyes filled
with tears. The Count de P , who lived
in a fine mansion in the neighborhood (in
Prnssia), passed by the place and (surprised
the little girl in her oocupation. He was a
rich and dissipated man, whose great delight
was to mock at the gospel. He heard the
sweet voice of the child; he saw that her eye
was wet with tears, and that a ray of celestial
joy illuminated her countenanoe, and he
stopped a moment to oonverse with her.—
“Why do you weep, my little girl?” heasked.
“Are you ill?” “No, sir,” she said, “bnt I
am so happy!” “ Why, then, do you weep?”
asked the Count, astonished. “Because I
love Jesns so much. “Why do you love
him so much? He died a long time ago. He
is not now able to do you any good.” “ You
aro mistaken. Sir; He is not dead; He is in
heaven.” “ That may be; but what benefit
is that to you? If He wished to help you
He would enable your mother to buy you
better olotbes.” “I do not care to have
beautiful clothes, but I know that Jesus will
como one day and take me with Him to
heaven.” “Stuff and nonsense!” said the
Count, stamping his foot. “ Your old and
foolish grandmother has taught you these
fooleries.” “ Pardon me, sir, these are not
fooleries, but truths. Yes, all this is true,
very true, and that is why I am so happy.”
The Count departed, but he was not able
soon to forget what he had seen and hoard.
The joyous countenance of the sweet child,
her bright and beautiful eyes filled with
tears of joy, were always in his thoughts,and
the words, spoken with so firm a voice: “All
this is true, very true, and this is why I am
so happy,” sounded continually in his cars.
“It is strange,” he said to himself, “there
is nothing in infidelity which can make a
poor child so satisfied nnd happy. There
must be in .religion a deep secret which has
escaped me hitherto. ” This idea could not
be banished from his mind. After a sharp
internal conflict ho renounced his infidelity,
and became a sincere and zealous Christian.
“Almanachdes Buns Conseils”for 1870.
Dumb but Eloquent.
The following touching story of “a hand
some English ooueli-dog” and his drunken
master, is vouched for by a leading Boston
paper:
The man pursued his devious course, close
ly followed by his four-footod companion,
until at length he approached the door of
the saloon referred to, and was about to en
ter, when, to tho surprise of all who had
witnessed the affair, the dog jumped up,
and cutoliing the skii'ts of the man’s eoat,
sought to prevent him from going in. The
inebriated biped spoko in angry tones to
the beast, but without avail, until a more
than ordinarily severe command induced
him to relinquish his hold, and the man
hastened inside, followed by his faithful
companion and would-be proteotor.
Actuated simply by curiosity, we also
went in, and as we gained a position near
the bar, saw in close proximity thereto the
beast and his master, the latter trying to
reach the bar, and the former standing on
his hind legs, with his forepaws placed
against the man’s breast, vainly endeavor
ing, even at the eleventh hour, to prevent
him from again indulging in the intoxioat
ing oup. *
To the credit of the bar-tender be it sta
ted, that he refused to furnish the man with
more liquor, and tears were drawn from eyes
that had long been nnnsed to the molting
mood, as at each refusal the undoubtedly
heart-strioken canine would bestow a look
intended, doubtless, to be one of gratitude
upon the dispenser of “juleps,” “slings,”
and “tods,” aud then turning, would, as it
were, mutely beseeoh his liquor-loving mas
ter to abstain.
The Ileal Presence.
Tlie Catholics pretend to believe that the
bread and wine used in the sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper are the real body and the real
blood of Christ. Luther was perhaps never
cured of this old Romish idea. He held to
an opinion on the subject that is' somewhat
difficult to understand. Recently we saw
an article in one of our exchanges attempt
ing to explain the doctrine of Luther and
his followers cn the subject, but to our mind
it was not very clear. Here is something
that we cut from an exchange, whioh strikes
us as having point:
Rev. Dr. Cumming, of London, recently
said that in the Highlands of Scotland he
once met a lady of noble birth who asked
him if he believed in tho “real presence.”
“Certainly I do,” he said. “I am very glad,”
she replied; ‘ ‘lmt you are the lirst Protest
ant clergyman I ever met who did.” “Wo
attach different meanings to the same words,”
said Dr. Cumming. “I believe in the real
presence of our Lord wherever two or three
are gathered together in his name. I can
not believe as you do about the real pres
ence, when I consider the words, ‘lu re
membrance of Me. ’ Memory has to do with
the past, with au altsent frieud. To eat and
drink in remembrance of one who is actually
present before one’s eyes is an absurdity.”
Hospitality in the House op God.— The
following, on church hospitality, we com
mend to the attention of our people. The
directions here given, if carefully followed
out, would have a wonderful effect for good:
Every church that would prosper must
show proper attention to strangers. It
should be seen that they are promptly and
oourteously provided with seats, and made
to feel that they have a cordial weloqgio
there. Kind looks should greet them as
they come, and follow them as they go.
Should they come again, let them meet with
the same reception. And should they be
come constant worshippers there, let them
be sought out and visited, not merely by tho
pastor, but by members of the church and
society. Whether rich or poor, they should
not be overlooked or neglected. They have
claims as strangers, irrespective of all out
ward distinction. Let us see that they have
prompt attention.
How incalculably would the tone of a con
vei-tsaion be improved if it offered no ex
ceptions to the example of Bishop Beveridge:
“ Resolve never to speak of a man’s virtues
to his face, nor his faults behind his back
a golden rule, the observance of which would
banish flattery and defamation from the
earth. Conversation stock being a joint and
common property, every one should take a
share in it, and yet thero may be societies
in which silence will be our best contribu
tion. When Isocrates, dining with tho King
of Cyprus, was asked why he did not mix
with tlie discourse of the company.he replied :
“ What is seasonable I do not know, and
what I know is not seasonable.”
Shut tee Door.— l feel that I know aud
all that I teach will do nothing for my soul
if I spend my time, as some people do, in
business or company. My soul starves to
death in the best company, and God is of
ten lost in prayers and ordinances. “Enter
into tliy closet,” said He, and “shut thy
door.” Some words iuPscripture are very
emphatical. “Shut thy door” means much:
it means, shut out, not only nonsense but
business; not only the company abroad but
the company at home ; it means, let thy
poor soul have a little rest and refreshment,
and God have opportunity to speak to thee
in a still small voice, or He will speak to
thee iu thunder.— Cecil.
We must never fall into the delusion that
the purposes of God set aside the use of
means. I have heard thoughtless or captious
talkers say: ‘ “ If God works out his pur
poses, then there is no need for preaching
or any other means.” Ah! simpleton that
thou art, if we teach yon that God works out
his purposes by means, how mad you must
be to charge us with thinking lightly of the
means!”■— Sp urgeon.
The Gospel prepares the saint for heaven,
and fits every power of his soul for the busi
ness and blessedness of those happy regions.
— Watts.
True faith makes she sinner humble, ac
tive and self-denying; false faith leaves men
proud, insolent and selfish.
Quiet consoienos gives quiet sleep.