The Bible and the Newspaper

“I read the newspaper,” said John Newton, “that I may see how my Heavenly Father governs the world,” — a very excellent reason indeed. We have read the newspaper during the last three months that we might find illustrations of the teaching of our Heavenly Father’s Word; and we think we have not read in vain, for we have gathered instances in proof and facts in-explanation which we have jotted down in these pages. The worlds of nature and of providence are ful of parallels to things moral and spiritual, and serve as pictures to make the written book of inspiration more clear to the children of God. The Bible itself abounds in metaphors, types, and symbols; it is a great picturebook; there is scarcely a poetical figure which may not be found in the law and the prophets, or in the words of Jesus and His apostles. The preacher is bidden to speak as the oracles of God, and consequently he should imitate their illustrative method, and abound in emblems and parables. A sermon which is full li “likes” is full of windows to enlighten the mind and hands to hold it captive. Discourses decked with similes will not only give pleasure to the children, but persons of riper years will be charmed and instructed thereby. — C. H. Spurgeon.

LADIES’ DRESS.

“I will... that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety.” — i Tim. ii. 8, 9.

“Be clothed with humility.” — i Peter v. 5.

OX the nth of April, in the course of an action brought by the well-known modiste, “Madame Rosalie,” against a gentleman of property to compel him to pay a debt contracted by his wife, it was stated in evidence that from $2,500 to $10,000 a year might be considered a reasonable sum for a lady moving in good society to expend on dress. The gentleman’s wife, in the witness-box, repudiated with lofty scorn the idea that the former amount was sufficient. The lady is an invalid, has never been presented at court, and is not called into company, and yet was indebted for millinery to a very large amount.

Is it, then, a fact that so large a sum is considered needful for the clothing of one human form? Surely the luxury of the old Roman Empire is infecting our beloved country: may God grant that it may not, in our case also, be a sign of the decay of the nation. Women should be too considerate of the needs of the sick and suffering to spend their money so wastefully. A blanket placed on the bed of a poor old woman would be a better ornament to a lady’s character than all the lace a dukedom could purchase. Yet so it is; but — tell it not in Gath — a lady cannot be dressed under $10,000 a year!

Are we wrong if we place side by side with this modern fact a description of the follies of women of the olden times? “Moreover the Lord saith, Because the daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet: therefore the Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the daughters of Zion, and the Lord will discover their secret parts. In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their feet, and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the earrings, the rings, and nose jewels, the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping-pins, the glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods and the vails.” — Isaiah iii. 16-23.

What a contrast is the teaching of the Apostle Peter, in his first epistle, at the third chapter. “Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price. For after this manner in the old time the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection unto their own husbands.” Peter sends the ladies to a wardrobe better than any which the frivolous possess, and to a jewel-case richer than ever belonged to the vain and showy; but, alas, the mass of women do not care to adorn themselves in this right royal fashion! Pride of dress is so childish that one wonders to see it in grown-up people. The old proverb speaks of being twice children; but fops and dandies of either sex are always children. Archbishop Leighton has well said: “It is strange upon how poor things men and women will be vain, and think themselves somebody; not only upon some comeliness in their face or feature, which, though poor, is yet a part of themselves, but of things merely without them; that they are well lodged, or well mounted, or well apparelled, either richly or well in fashion. Light, empty minds are like bladders, blown up with anything.”

The only excuse we can think of for some dressy women is that they think themselves very ugly. What deformity must exist if it needs ten thousand a year to cover it! If these persons accurately gauge their lack of personal charms, they must be suffering under a fearful measure of uncomeliness. Why, ten or twenty families could be reared in comparative comfort upon the amount thus expended in wastefulness; and as matters go with the agricultural laborers in many of the shires, forty of the families owned by Hodge and his companions, including all the father Hodges and their wives, could be decently provided for upon ten thousand a year. It will not bear thinking of. Yet many women professing godliness are shockingly extravagant, and can never be happy till their heads are tricked out with strange gear and their bodies with fashionable millinery. They little think how much they degrade themselves and grieve the Spirit of God. A forgiven sinner decked out in the flaunting garments of a worldling, casts suspicion upon her own pardon; if she had ever been renewed in heart, would she, could she, adorn herself after the manner of a Jezebel? It is hard to think of a disciple of the Lord wasting her substance upon personal decoration. Does the lowly Jesus keep company with persons who spend hours at the glass, adorning, if not adoring, their own flesh? Can extravagance and fashionableness be pleasing to the Lord? No. Assuredly not.

We are not judging that “neat handsomeness “which George Herbert says ‘’ doth bear the sway,” but we are sorrowful when we see those who set themselves up as examples, and move in a position where no outward show is required, going beyond ordinary worldly women in extravagance. It is the bane of society and the disgrace of religion.

We wonder how much of the extravagance of female dress could be traced to the man-millinery of Anglican priests. Church congresses have been edified by exhibitions of ecclesiastical finery, in which were seen robes and vestments of the costliest material and the craudiest colors. We have read of altar frontals which have taken years to finish, and are valued at more than $2,500. All this to deck out a table! No wonder that it costs so much to dress a woman. When men, and even ministers, take to resplendent trappings, who can wonder that the weaker sex exercise a larger liberty? For shame, ye so-called priests, put away your baby garments, and quit yourselves like men!

THE RACE AND ITS SPECTATORS.

“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us!” — Heb. xii. i.

In an article upon the University boat-race of April 13, the “Times” alludes to the dense throng upon the banks of the river, and to the interest which everybody seemed to feel in the struggle, and it then very truthfully adds: —

“Nor do the competitors themselves fail to gain much from the sight of the vast crowds which attest the strength of the popular interest. The rivalry would hardly be so keen if the race were to be rowed amid the comparative privacy of a provincial stream or lake. Some years ago this was kept out of sight in a high and mighty way, by the suggestion that, to prevent the contest from being vulgarized, or for some other reason, it ought to be held at some quieter place than the neighborhood of London. Loch Maree, in the wilds of Ross-shire, would afford charming tranquillity and a few scores of cool spectators. But the stimulus of a great public competition would be gone, and, if we may venture to assume that undergraduates are made of the same stuff as other human beings, that stimulus is essential to such muscular exertion as we see at Oxford and Cambridge.”

This excellently illustrates the meaning of the apostle when he represents believers as running for a prize, with saints, apostles, and martyrs looking on. The stimulus communicated by spectators is his prominent idea. No doubt the young oarsmen find a stimulus in every eye that gazes upon them, and if the crowd were thinned they would take less interest in their task. The crowds which line the Thames may wU be compared to clouds, so com-, pletely do they darken the banks from end to end of the course; and much more may those who gaze upon the Christian’s life be thus spoken of. Myriads lean from heaven, or look from earth, or peer upward from the pit. Holy men of all ages, now with

God, join with a great host still abiding here below. Angels and principalities and powers unite as one vast army and observe us intently; and frowning demons of the pit in their dread array all gaze with interest upon the Christian’s work and way. Should not every glance animate us to do our utmost?

And what eyes there are among those who observe us! Had the Queen been present, we could imagine the young athletes straining themselves even more than they had done, for the glance of royalty quickens energy to the utmost. In our case, the King of kings looks down upon us, and the Prince of Life with tender sympathy watches our progress. What manner of race should ours be under the Lord’s own eye! Competitors of former years were at the boat-race to see whether the new-comers would maintain the honor of their University. Even so the worthies of ancient times, who counted not their lives dear unto them, take pleasure in the efforts of those who to-day are wrestling for victory, as they themselves did in ages past. The approving glances of prophets and apostles may well stir our souls. Dear ones who have gone before also mark our behavior in the race. A mother in heaven takes delight in the ardor of her son; brothers ‘’ gone over to the majority” are serenely glad as they see their brothers pushing forward in the noble cause. Our leaders in the faith, oarsmen who taught us how to fly over the waves, regard us with anxious interest, and joy in our successes. These things should quicken us, and lend us arguments for unabated energy.

Of course the apostle was not alluding to a boat-race, but to the Olympian games. Those games furnish a suggestive figure, which we leave the reader to work out at leisure when we have given him a glimpse at the race from the window of good Dr. John Brown.

“At Olympia, a town of Elis, games were celebrated in honor of Jupiter once every five years. An almost incredible multitude from all the states of Greece and from the surrounding countries attended these games as spectators. The noblest of the Grecian youths appeared as competitors. In this race, a course was marked out for the candidates for public fame, and a tribunal erected at the end of the course, on which sat the judges, — men who had themselves in former years been successful competitors for Olympic honors. The victors in the morning contests did not receive their prizes till the evening; but after their exertions they joined the band of spectators, and looked on while others prosecuted the same arduous labors which they had brought to an honorable termination.”

It is a fine thought that those honorable men in the Church of God who have themselves behaved worthily, take the deepest interest in the young men who have newly set out upon the race. Let the youngsters so behave themselves that the veterans may never fear for the cause of God. We know that a great deal of anxiety is felt just now, for the rising race shows signs of being unstable and superficial; but we hope for better things, and even trust that the men of the coming age will outstrip their predecessors, and draw forth the approving shouts of the encompassing cloud of witnesses.

A FOX IN THE PULPIT.

“Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines.” — Cant. ii. 15. “O Israel, thy prophets are like the foxes in the deserts.” — EzEK. xiii. 4.

A SHORT letter which appeared in “The Rock,” April 18, is well worth preserving in connection with the above texts. It is to be feared that the writer might have pointed to not a few Nonconformist pulpits, and might have made the same remark concerning their occupants, “Duty requires that they should be taken out and kept out.”

“A Fox IN THE Pulpit. — Sir: A singular circumstance took place at Hever, in Kent, on Saturday last. A fox, hard pressed by the huntsmen, leaped the churchyard wall and disappeared. The hounds and huntsmen were searching and wondering, when an old woman came out from a back door of the church, which happened to be open, with the exclamation, * Here he is, in the pulpit;’ and, sure enough, poor Reynard had slipped in at the

Open door and sought sanctuary, curled up in a corner of the pulpit. Of course he was soon ejected. To my friend, who had witnessed the scene and described it very vividly, I observed that it reminded one of certain sly foxes in the Church of England, who get into our pulpits and think they are safe there. Duty requires that they should be taken out and kept out. — I am, etc., W. J. B.”

This is written by a Church-of-England man, and published in a sound Church paper, and so it is no violation of charity to repeat it, especially as we quite agree with every word of it. We wish that all the Popish foxes could be ejected from the national Establishments, for they do more mischief than tongue can tell.

“The fox that steals the lamb so tender,
Can never be the. fold’s defender,
He ’s but a base and sly pretender.”

The difficulty seems to be to get these foxes out and keep them out. Once in the pulpit, they know how to hold their position; you may dig out a fox, but you cannot dislodge a Romanizing priest. Acts of Parliament altogether fail, because such things are meant for men, and foxes dexterously evade them. Reynard’s imitators have many knavish tricks, and know how to twist and turn, and so they escape statutes and laws, and still pursue their evil business. In the reforming times a popular caricature represented a priest as a fox preaching to an assembly of geese from the text, “How earnestly I long for you all in my bowels.” The drawing would not be out of date if it were published to-day. How silly must the geese be who yield themselves heart and soul to such foxes! Yet there are flocks of them.

THE EVIL WROUGHT BY ONE MAN.

“One sinner destroyeth much good.” — Eccles. ix. 18.

“That man perished not alone in his iniquity.” — JosH. xxii. 20.

An American paper contains the following paragraph: “An oiltrain of forty oil-tanks ran into a heavy freight-train near Slatington, Pennsylvania. The engineer of the latter train had been compelled to stop to cool off a hot ’ journal,’ but the conductor had sent no one back to warn following trains of danger. Several persons were killed and about forty injured, — the result of one man’s carelessness.” Amid the blaze of the oil, the screams of burning men and women, and the charred remains of the unhappy victims, we see how great a calamity may arise out of a little neglect, and how much the destiny of others may hang upon the acts of one man. Have we a due sense of our own personal responsibility? Have we ever reflected that our own conduct may influence others for good or evil throughout eternity? We may have no wicked intent, and yet our carelessness and indifference may be as fatal to immortal souls as if we had been profane or profligate. Moral virtues, apart from religion, may suggest to our children that godliness is needless; was not their father an excellent man, and yet he was unconverted? Thus may generation after generation be kept in spiritual death by an argument fetched from the irreligion of one who was in other respects a model character. Who among us would desire this?

Even if we hope that we are ourselves saved, it should cause us grave question if we are not bringing others to Jesus.

A destroyer of souls will have an awful doom at the last, and he who failed to do his best to save his fellows will not be held guiltless before the “Lord.

CONSCIENTIOUS SEPARATION.

“A conscience void of offence toward God, and toward men.” — Acts xxiv. 16.

“If the Lord be God, follow Him: but if Baal, then follow him.” — i Kings xviiL 21.

The “Daily News” of May 8, in an article on Lord Carnarvon’s resignation, says: “Mr. Carlyle, wearied with much eighteenth-century talk about virtue, somewhere requests the talker, with a strong adjuration, to * be virtuous, and have done with it.’ Too much praise of what is after all but the carrying into statesmanship of the laudable but not marvellous practice of common honesty might lead the hearer to express a similarly petulant prayer. It is not at all desirable that a politician should be perpetually interrogating his conscience to see what its opinion may be as to this tax on tobacco and that alteration in the bankruptcy laws. Such a practice could only lead to very considerable public inconvenience, and in the case of the individual practising it, to something not very different from hypocrisy. But occasions may and do arise when a policy or an individual measure commends itself to the majority of a ministry which seems morally wrong or politically unadvisable to some member thereof When this is the case, ought he to put his convictions in his pocket, and salve his conscience with the theory of party allegiance, or ought he to go out from those respecting whom he feels that he is not of them? No one will in words profess the former doctrine, but many will act upon it. Lord Carnar’on has acted upon the latter doctrine, which everybody professes, but many set aside in practice. Of course it is important that the conscience appealed to should be a healthy conscience, not given to unnecessary questioning and quibbling.”

Not only do we admire the consistency of Lord Carnarvon, but we wish we saw a little more of it among professing Christians. We know some ministers who do not believe the doctrines of the church to which they belong, and yet for reasons best known to themselves they remain in that community, and undermine the very foundations of the faith which they profess to preach. How this can be made to be in accordance with morahty we know not. Surely it would be more like common honesty if they would at once show their colors, and no longer pretend to be what they are not. Some Christians, too, who never enter a pulpit, are equally guilty, for they are recognized as members of churches against whose teaching they frequently protest. They support evil systems and know them to be evil. They dissent in their hearts, but yet consent by their actions; for fear of giving offence to men, they are constantly offending God and their own consciences. Whatever their excuses may be, are they not resolvable into doing evil that good may come? Of course it is not to be desired that men should be perpetually vexed with scruples upon minor points, and ready to quarrel about anything or nothing, because their conscience is morbidly sensitive; but surely it cannot be right for a truthful man to be a member of a church from whose confession he widely disagrees; his position is a protest against his own convictions, and his convictions make his profession a falsehood. We ought to be intensely anxious to be so clear in the whole of our religious standing that under the light of the Day of Judgment no glaring contradictions shall be discovered in our lives; otherwise, we may not only be guilty of “something not very different from hypocrisy,” but we may fall into hypocrisy itself A little tampering with conscience is a very dangerous thing; it is very like the dropping of a stitch, which may lead to the unravelling of all the work. We used to say in our childhood, —

“He who steals a pin
Will live to steal a biirser thine:.”

The rhyme was bad, but the doctrine was true. If we violate conscience, even upon the smallest matter, we may come at last to have no conscience at all.

Mr. Carlyle’s advice is thoroughly sound, and his adjuration is none too strong: “Be virtuous, and have done with it;” speak the truth and stand to it; profess the faith which is revealed in the Scriptures, and neither by word of mouth nor by act, nor by association, nor even in thought, contradict the eternal verities of God. We have had too much of concession in order to win a hollow peace from philosophic Rationalists on the one hand, and superstitious Romanizers on the other. The thing will not work, and if it would it is wrong, and ought not to be attempted. Who gave us the right to yield an atom of truth? Are the doctrines of God’s Word yours or mine to do as we like with, to give up this and modify that? Nay, verily; we are put in trust with the Gospel, and it is at our peril that we dream of compromising the least of its teachings. A straightforward, decided line of testimony is the best, is most consistent with true charit’, and in the end will most promote peace.

The trimming, hesitating policy of many reminds us of Luther’s words to Erasmus: “You desire to walk upon eggs without crushing them, and among glasses without breaking them!” This is a difficult game to play at, and one which is more suitable for a clown at a theatre than a servant of Christ. When you are attempting a compromise, you have to look around you and move as cautiously as a tiglit-rope dancer, for fear of offending on one side or the other. A little too much this way or that, and over you go. A cat on hot cinders is not in an enviable position. No true-hearted man will ever bear such wretched constraint for any length of time, or indeed at all. Think of being able to go no further than the aforementioned timorous, time-serving Erasmus, who said, ‘* I will not be unfaithful to the cause of Christ; at least, so far as the age will permit me!’ Out upon such cowardice! life is too dear when bought at such a price.

*’ I cannot tell what you and other men

Think of this life; but for my single self,
I had as lief not be, as live to be
In awe of such a thing as I myself.”

TEMPTING TEMPTATION.

“Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.” — Ps. i. i. “Lead us not into temptation.” — Matt. vi. 13.

The ‘’ Rock “of May 10 speaks of fox-hunting parsons, and remarks: “To come down to modern times, the late Rev. Joseph Berington, Roman CathoHc chaplain at Buckland, Berks, and a writer on history, was fond of a run with the hounds. When visiting his patron’s family, the Throckmortons of Weston Underwood, Bucks, he was in the neighborhood of two packs, and did not neglect the opportunity. He did not actually go” to cover,’ but rode out in the direction the hounds might take, and thus fell in with the hunt, and got half a day’s sport without appearing to seek it. This was playing the politician to gratify his inclination. This anecdote was learned at a table where he has often dined, from personal friends of his own.”

Why could n’t the man have hunted openly or not at all? If he felt ashamed of it, why did he do it? Thoroughbred fox-hunters must have despised him. The policy of the Rev. Joseph is followed by a great many in daily life. They complain of being tempted, and yet they carefully put themselves in the way of temptation; they profess to have been grievously misled by evil company, and yet they continue to stand in the way of sinners, and to delight themselves with their evil conversation. They express the greatest grief if they fall into drunkenness, and say that they have been overtaken “; but notwithstanding this they carefully ride along the road which drunkenness is known to pursue, and, under the name of moderation, drink themselves fully up to the boundary line. They do not actually go “to cover,” but they ride out in the direction which the hounds always take. They profess to be averse to frivolous amusements, to feasting, rioting, and the like, but they are pretty careful to call upon their friends when such things are going on, and so get half a day’s sport without appearing to seek it. They are averse to infidehty, and yet peruse sceptical reviews; they disHke Hcentiousness, and yet spend hours over doubtful novels. They tempt the devil to tempt them, and go into dark lanes in order to be beset by their favorite sins.

Thus to excuse sin as many do is mere nonsense, or worse; such fooling may amuse conscience, and prevent its plainly speaking the truth, but it is altogether unworthy of an honest man. Excuses which hold no water are caught up under the notion that a bad excuse is better than none: the fact being that a bad excuse is worse than none; for it proves that the man has not the courage to defend what he has the audacity to do, nor the common honesty to take the responsibility of his own act and deed. Let us follow the advice of Solomon: “Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away.” We pity a man who catches an infectious disease, but we should cease to do so if we heard that he purposely went down to the fever hospital, or wilfully rode in the small-pox carriage. If you go to li’e with a sweep, you ought not to blame him if your linen loses its whiteness, or, if you do so, every one will see through your inconsistency. If it be true that when you go to Rome you must do as Rome does, then do not go to Rome at all, and no such necessity will arise.

It is wonderful how circumstances appear to help a man when he wants to do wrong, and some there are who even dare to quote the fact as a reason why they ought not to be blamed. “They happened to be on the spot, or they would never have thought of it:” thus they are profane enough to hint that Providence itself misled them. This is only a repetition of Adam’s plea, “The woman whom thou gavest me, she tempted me, and I did eat.” Alas! the vile attempt to father sin upon the Lord Himself is often made, but it is none the less horrible. Let us abandon such blasphemous endeavors to shift the responsibility of our actions, and give our consciences a fair chance of being heard.

REVIEW AT ALDERSHOT.

“Thou hast given a banner to them that fear Thee, that it may be displayed because of the truth.” — Ps. Ix. 4.

‘* Terrible as an army with banners.” — Cant. vi. 4.

The “Daily News” of May 14, in its report of the review at Aldershot before the Queen, mentions “The Forty-ninth, whose color-party bore the tattered green flag that floated on the heights of Alma and over the trenches in front of Sebastopol, and served as a rallying-point amid the mists of Inkermann; and the gallant Fifty-second, whose history has been untarnished from the first campaign in Hindostan, through all the Peninsular wars, beginning at Vimiera and ending at Waterloo, down to the conquest of Delhi.”

Soldiers appear to have an almost religious attachment to the colors of the regiment, and the more tattered they become the more they value them. And well they may, for they are in fact the materialized history of the host. They tell of the cruel rain of shot and shell, the dust and smoke of the conflict and the battle, “with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood,” — terrible records truly, but as long as there are warriors, and courage in fight is valued, banners and standards must always be prized.

The sacramental host of God’s elect bears the standard of the truth, and has borne it these thousands of years, and the truth has become endeared to every soldier of the cross by all the conflicts through which we have borne it. Heresies and scepticisms have raged around the banner, but from the first campaign even until now it has gone on from victory to victory. The very thought of it stirs enthusiasm in the hearts of the warriors of Christ. Shall we ever desert it? Shall we sufl“er it to be trailed in the mire? God forbid! We will uplift it, and display it in the face of the enemy, until the last great battle shall be fought, and we shall hear the triumphant shout, “Hallelujah! hallelujah! the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.”

It has of late been proposed that the army of Christ should

march without its banner, or that all the banners of philosophic

sceptics should be stitched together and uplifted in its place. To

this we solemnly demur. We will march under the old ensign;

of the new ones we know nothing, except that they will lead us to

defeat. Faith has won all her victories under the standard of

revelation, and she expects to win all her future glory under the

same unaltered and unalterable flag. Let others do as they will;

as for us, the old, old gospel shall be our rallying-point amid the

mists of modern thought, and we hope to bear it from land to land

throughout the whole campaign of this dispensation, till we shall

see it borne aloft at the coronation festival of our triumphant

Lord.

“Stand up, stand up for Jesus,

Ye soldiers of the cross;

Lift high His royal banner,

It must not suffer loss.

‘* From victory to victory
His army shall He lead.
Till every foe is vanquished.
And Christ is Lord indeed.”

RELIGIOUS SLUGGARDS.

“Their nobles put not their necks to the work of their Lord.” — Neh. iii. 5. “Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep.” — Prov. xix. 15. “Let us not sleep, as do others.” — i Thess. v. 6.

An American paper has the following in its corner of wit and anecdote: “A Sunday-school boy at Maysville. Kentucky, was asked by the superintendent the other day if his father was a Christian. ‘Yes, sir,’ he replied, * but he is not working at it much.’”

In too many cases the same statement might be made, for multitudes have a name to live and are dead, and the love of many has waxed cold. Religion is a profession with them, but it is not accompanied by practice. Now, of all pursuits in the world, the

Christian profession requires the most energetic action, and it utterly fails where diligence and zeal are absent. What can a man do as a farmer, a merchant, a carpenter, or even as a beggar, unless he follows up his calling with activity and perseverance? A sluggard desireth and hath nothing, whatever his trade may be. What, then, can he hope to win who calls himself a Christian, and neither learns of Christ as his Teacher, nor follows Him as his Master, nor serves Him as his Prince? Salvation is not by works, but it is salvation from idleness. We are not saved because we are earnest; but he who is not earnest has great reason to question whether he is saved.

Do you know a Christian who never attends week-day services, and only comes to public worship once on the Sunday? “He is not working at it much.” Do you know a professor who is not engaged in the Sabbath-school, the Visiting Society, the Tract Association, or in any other form of usefulness?, “He is not working at it much.” Do you know a man who gives little or nothing to the work of the Lord, neglects family prayer, never says a word for Jesus, and never intercedes for perishing souls? “He is not working at it much.” Perhaps he is the best judge of his religion, and does not think it worth being diligent about. We heard of one who said his religion did not cost him a shilling a year, and a friend observed that he thought it was more than it was worth; and in the present case we may conclude that a man’s religion is a very poor affair when “he does not work at it much.”

Our Lord does not set before us the Christian life as a dainty repose, but as a warfare and a struggle. He bids us “strive to enter in at the strait gate,” and never suggests to us that we can enter into His rest if we are not willing to bear His yoke. Fai,th saves us, but it is the faith which worketh by love; all our salvation is wrought in us by the Lord both as to willing and doing, but yet we are to work it out with fear and trembling; which also by His grace we will henceforth do.

“Sure I must fight if I would reign:
Increase my courage, Lord!
I ’11 bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy Word.”

THE WITHERING OF UNBELIEF.

“Let them all be confounded and turned back that hate Zion, Let them be as the grass upon the housetops, which withereth afore it groweth up: wherewith the mower filleth not his hand, nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom.” — Ps. cxxix. 5, 6, 7.

“Notwithstanding the humidity of the season, the grass crop on Wandsworth Bridge will not be submitted to tender this year.” This witty paragraph, taken from the “South London Press,” an interesting local paper, of May 25, refers to a bridge upon which there is little traffic. Of course the grass will not be mown, for it has no depth of earth to grow upon, and is of no value.

The text which we have quoted here finds an illustration. It is true, a bridge is not a house-top, but in scantiness of soil it is much the same. The opponents of the Gospel are very numerous, but they never come to anything; they are always confounded before they can well establish their theories. Various orders of infidels have sprung up suddenly, and have almost as suddenly disappeared, and even those which have endured for a longer season have ultimately passed away, leaving scarcely any memorial behind them. Unbelief is an unhealthy and unsatisfactory plant; there is nothing in it; it yields neither seed for the sower nor bread for the eater; it is not even good enough to fodder the cattle with; the very lowest of mankind find it unsatisfactory meat. Rationalists should never be too confident of their favorite scheme, for it is only one of a long series of short-lived weeds, and will be sure to wither before long, and to be denounced by some other order of advanced thinkers. Infidelity, like Canaan of old under the Hivites and the Jebusites, is a land which eateth up the inhabitants thereof. Scepticism derives most of its life from opposition; it has no natural stamina, and is rather a negative than a real existence. Little cause can there be for the citizens of Zion to be afraid of such adversaries; instead of dismay we may even breathe defiance. “The virgin daughter of Zion hath despised thee and laughed thee to scorn; the daughter of Jerusalem hath shaken her head at thee.” It were well if this sacred confidence were more common among us; for it is to be deplored that, as each crop of the housetop grass of unbelief springs up, much unjustifiable alarm is manifested, and this does most of the mischief. There is really no cause to fear things so essentially feeble and self-destructive as systems of unbelief The wooden guns of the Chinese are not more ridiculous than the philosophies of infidels.

“Ashamed they fly, they start aloof,
Each foe of Zion flies, — They are as grass upon the roof.
That ere the uprooting dies;

“Where no glad store may reaper find
To fill his gathering hand,
Nor high their bosom heap who bind
The sheaves in wreathed band;

“Where never traveller as he passed
Did prayer or greeting frame,
Or say ‘God’s blessing o’er thee last,
We bless you in God’s name.’

J jj

MOORE’S REMONSTRANCE.

“Should such a man as I flee?” — Neh. vi. ii.

“He that endureth to the end shall be saved.” — Matt. x. 22.

On Tuesday, May 28, Earl Russell died. In biographical notices given by most of the papers allusion is made to the proposition of Lord John Russell to retire from public life while yet a young man, in consequence of some serious discouragement which he had received. It is stated that he was deterred from so doing by the expostulations of Thomas Moore, and quotations are made from the “Remonstrance” which that sparkling poet addressed to him. On reading the poem it struck us at once that many of the remarks would apply in other and higher senses to any Christian who should be tempted to withdraw himself from the service of his Lord. The first three verses of the poem we will quote at length: —.

“What thou with thy genius, thy youth, and thy name — Thou, born of a Russell — whose instinct to run
The accustomed career of thy sires, is the same
As the eaglet’s to soar with his eyes on the sun, —

*’ Whose nobility comes to thee stamped with a seal
Far, far more ennobling than monarch e’er set,
With the blood of thy race offered up for the weal
Of a nation that swears by that martyrdom yet, —

*’ Shalt thou be faint-hearted and turn from the strife, From the mighty arena where all that is grand, And devoted, and pure, and adorning in life,

‘T is for high-thoughted spirits like thine to command?”

Born from above and bearing the name of Christian, shall the child of God cease to battle for that which is good? Conscious of a sacred instinct which impels him onward and upward, shall he sit down in despair or retire into inglorious ease? Sending a Lord who spared not His heart’s blood for man’s redemption, and following in the track of thousands of martyrs who counted not their lives dear unto them, shall we selfishly shun self-denial and avoid reproach? No; by God’s grace let us never dream of timorous silence, nor think for an instant that our light can be spared from the darkening horizon of our times. We may have neither eloquence nor genius, but such as we have we will consecrate to the last moment of our lives to Him who hath bought us by His precious blood. We may address to every timorous heart the closing verse of Tom ]Ioore, altered to suit the case: —

“Thus ransomed, thou never canst sleep in the shade; If the stirrings of impulse, the terror of fame, And the charms of thy cause have not power to persuade, Yet think how to Jesus thou ‘rt pledged by thy name.”

He who wears the name of Christian is sworn to sustain the cause of God and truth with the last drop that warms his veins.

A PATH STREWN WITH BLESSINGS.

“I will save you, and ye shall be a blessing.” — Zech. viii. 13.

“When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me: Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him.” — Job xxix. 11, 12.

The “Sussex Daily News,” of June 6, has the following quotation and remark: * The path of a Pope must be strewn with blessings.’ Such is the neat and appropriate sentiment attributed to Leo XIII.”

So far as the history of a Pope has come under our own observation it has rather been strewn with curses than with blessings. Pio Nono at any rate appeared to be exceedingly voluble when delivering a tirade, and could fulminate an anathema as neatly and appropriately as any other dealer in strong language. Happily we have reason to believe that his denunciations were not much more effectual than his benedictions. If either the one or the other had any effect at all it would appear to have operated by the rule of contrary: for those whom he cursed most prospered best, and those whom he blessed had cause to cry “save us from our friend.” We believe that as a matter of fact his fulminations were so barren of all results, that we may apply to them the lines of “Ingoldsby Legends,” which describe the cardinal in his great red hat when he had lost his costly turquoise ring: —

“The cardinal rose with a dignified look,
He called for his candle, his bell, and his book;
In holy anger and pious grief
He solemnly cursed the rascally thief!
He cursed him at board, he cursed him in bed;
From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head;
He cursed him in sleeping, that every night
He should dream of the devil and wake in a fright;
He cursed him in eating, he cursed him in drinking;
He cursed him in coughing, in sneezing, in winking;
He cursed him in sitting, in standing, in lying;
He cursed him in walking, in riding, in frying;

He cursed him in living, he cursed him in dying!
Never was heard such a terrible curse!

But what gave rise

To no little surprise,
Nobody seemed one penny the worse /”

True, there was a certain thievish jackdaw which began to pine and lose its feathers, but we do not believe that Pio Nono ever managed to injure even a sparrow or a spider with his bulls and excommunications.

Let us hope that Leo XIIL intends to abound in benisons; but even if he does so, we suspect that nobody will seem one penny the better.

However, it will be all the better for Leo himself if he will learn to he down with the lamb.

If from the quotation we take out the word “Pope,” and write ‘’Christian,” the sentiment will be more neat and appropriate than ever: “The path of a Christian must be strewn with blessings.” God has blessed him unspeakably in Christ Jesus, and he should therefore bless God with all his heart and soul. The promise is, “I will bless thee, and thou shalt be a blessing,” and every child of believing Abraham should endeavor to be a blessing to all those that are round about him, according to that ancient covenant promise. Like David, the believer should bless his household; nay more, like the high priest of old he should bless all the people. His words should impart the blessing of instruction, and his life should confer the blessing of holy example. His private prayers should bring down innumerable blessings from heaven, and his public acts, abounding with pity and love, should bless the poor and needy of earth. The sick, the afflicted, and the desponding should hail his presence, and find in him a tender friend. He should go about doing good. As there is a promise that his path, like the shining light, shall increase in splendor, so also should he increase in the warmth and light of love and kindness, bearing life and joy and healing to the sons of men. May the blessed God reveal Himself in His blessed people, that in them and in their seed all the nations of the earth may be blessed!

PEARLS.

“No mention shall be made of coral or of pearls: for the price of wisdom is above rubies.” — Job xxviii. 18.

“Who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.” — Matt. xiii. 46.

The Paris correspondent of the ‘’Daily News,” of June 11, writes: “The French have grown so clever at imitating pearls that a jeweller in this Exhibition shows a necklace which purports to be a mixture of true pearls and false, and he challenges his customers to single out the real ones if they can. Nobody had yet succeeded, when I myself made an ineffectual attempt.”

The art of pearl-making is by no means a new discovery; by various methods imitation pearls have been manufactured in divers countries for many years. The French have, however, proved themselves superior to all competitors. Specimens of their artificial productions exhibited at the Exposition of 1867 could neither in their lustre nor color be distinguished from oriental pearls, evn when the genuine and the sham were laid side by side. We are told that there is only one way by which they can be detected, and that is by their specific weight; they are much lighter than the real pearls.

There is “one Pearl of great price,” about whose genuineness there can never be a question; but all the goodly pearls which this world can yield need to be weighed before we may conclude them to be of any great value, — indeed, the choicest pearls of earth are insignificant in price compared with Him who is more precious than rubies, and of whom it is written, that ‘* all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto Him.” Even real peapls, the best of them, fit to adorn an emperor’s crown, and to heighten the beauty of the fairest of maidens, have been known to sicken and die and vanish in a day. Every now and then we hear of magnificent ancestral pearls, the pride of noble families, turning of a sickly color and crumbling into dust. Not long ago the crown-jeweller of France solemnly applied to the Academy of Science for the means of preventing the decay and corruption of the precious gems in the royal crown. No satisfactory answer was given, and many highly-prized jewels have since then passed away. “Behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.”

In a work entitled “The Wonders of the Deep,” M. Scheie de Vere tells us the following stor’, of which we leave our readers to draw the moral for themselves:” A dusky fisherman in the far-off seas of India once found a pearl in an oyster. He had heard of such costly gems, and sold it to an Arab for a gold coin which maintained him for a whole year in luxury and idleness. The Arab exchanged it for powder and shot furnished him by a Russian merchant on board a trading vessel, who even yet did not recognize the dirty, dust-covered little ball as a precious jewel He brought it home as a present for his children on the banks of the Neva, where a brother merchant saw it and bought it for a trifle. The pearl had at last found one who could appreciate its priceless value. The great man — for it was a merchant of the first class, the owner of a great fortune — rejoiced at the silent fraud by which he had obtained the one pearl of great price, without selling all and buying it fairh’, and cherished it as the pride of his heart. Visitors came from all parts of the world to see the wonder. He received them in his merchant’s costume in a palace plain without but resplendent inside with all that human art can do to embellish a dwelling, and led them silently through room after room, filled with rare collections and dazzling by the splendor of their ornaments. At last he opened with his own key the carved folding-doors of an inner room, which surprised the visitor by its apparent simplicity. The floor, to be sure, was inlaid with malachite and costly marble, the ceiling carved in rare woods, and the walls hung with silk tapestry; but there was no furniture, no gilding, nothing but a round table of dark Egyptian marble in the centre. Under it stood a strong box of apparently wonderful ingenuity, for even the cautious owner had to go through various readings of alphabets, and to unlock one door after another, before he reached an inner cavity, in which a plain square box of Russia leather was standing alone. With an air akin to reverence, the happy merchant would take the box and press it for a moment to his bosom, then, devoutly crossing himself and murmuring an invocation to some saint, he would draw a tiny gold key, which he wore next his person, from his bosom, unlock the casket, and hold up his precious pet to the light that fell from a large grated window above.

*’ It was a glorious sight for the lover of such things: a pearl as large as a small egg, of unsurpassed beauty and marvellous lustre. The sphere was perfect, the play of colors, as he would let it reluctantly roll from his hands over his long white fingers down on the dark table, was only equalled by the flaming opal, and yet there was a soft, subdued light about the lifeless thing which endowed it with an almost irresistible charm. It was not only the pleasure its perfect form and matchless beauty gave to the eye, nor the overwhelming thought of the fact that the little ball was worth anything an emperor or a millionnaire might choose to give for it, — there was a magic in its playful, ever-changing sheen as it rolled to and fro, — a contagion in the rapt fervor with which the grim old merchant watched its every flash and flare, which left few hearts cold as they saw the marvel of St. Petersburg. For such it was, and the emperor himself, who loved pearls dearly, had in vain offered rank and titles and honors for the priceless gem.

“A few years afterwards a conspiracy was discovered, and several great men were arrested. Among the suspected was the merchant. Taking his one great treasure with him, he fled to Paris. Jewellers and amateurs, Frenchmen and foreigners, flocked around him, for the fame of his jewel had long since reached France. He refused to show it for a time. At last he appointed a day when his great rival in pearls, the famous Dutch banker, the Duke of Brunswick, and other men well known for their love of precious stones and pearls, were to behold the wonder. He drew forth the golden key, he opened the casket; but his face turned deadly pale, his eyes started from their sockets, his whole frame began to tremble, and his palsied hand let the casket drop. The pearl was discolored! A sickly blue color had spread over it, and dimmed its matchless lustre. His gem was diseased. In a short time it turned into a white powder, and the rich merchant of St. Petersburg, the owner of the finest pearl known to the world, was a pauper. The pearl had avenged the poor Indian of the East, the Arab, and the poor traveller, and administered silent justice to the purchaser who paid not its price.”

THE FICKLENESS OF MANKIND.

“Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.” — Gen. xlix. 4.

“Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie.” — Ps. lxviii. 9.

The “Times,” June 10, has the following from its correspondent at St. Petersburg on public opinion in Russia: “A well-known Russian journalist, who has had abundant opportunities of observing and studying the consecutive changes of public opinion among the educated classes of his countrymen during the last two years, has just published the following results of his observations: —

‘’’July, 1876. — Wild enthusiasm. Complete enchantment with the Servians. Desire for war.

“‘October, 1876. — Despondency. Disenchantment with regard to the Servians; hostility toward them, and regret for what has been done for them.

“‘November, 1876. — Enthusiasm for a war in the interest of the Bulgarians; pity for and sympathy with them.

“‘April, 1877. — Complete ecstasy. Brotherly love for the Bulgarians. Dissatisfaction with the Servians.

‘”August and September, 1877. — Despondency in consequence of failures (before Plevna and elsewhere). Silent irritation against the Bulgarians. Readiness to abandon the whole things if only a way could be found out of it.

“‘December, 1877. — Intoxication from success. Desire to carry the thing out to the end. Bad feeling toward the Bulgarians.

“‘February, 1878. — Wild delight at the peace and the yielding disposition of Turkey. Sympathy with Turkey and corresponding coolness toward the Bulgarians. Passionate determination to insist on the acquisition of Batoum. Consciousness of the necessity of this acquisition. Indifference to the question of England and Austria.

“* May, 1878. — Complete disenchantment on the score of the Bulgarians. Suspicions of insincerity on the part of the Turks. Talk about Batoum not being so necessary for us as it had formerly seemed. Something like disgust with the Eastern Question. Talk about getting the thing finished anyhow.’

‘’ This curious laconic register, though far from complete, is pretty correct so far as it goes.”

We insert this as a curious instance of the fickleness of the popular mind. He who lives to win the approbation of the public, even should he gain it, should set but small store by it, for it is as changeful as the wind, and altogether as unsubstantial. The multitude one day cried concerning our Saviour, “Hosanna, hosanna!” and ere the week was ended, they as lustily shouted, Crucify Him, crucify Him! “The apostles at Lystra found themselves at one moment in danger of being worshipped as gods; but the mistake did not last long, for the people stoned them before the sun had set. The many- headed cry first this thing, and then another: ‘’unstable as water,” they rush to extremes. The war upon which they enter with enthusiasm will either close with curses at the bloodshed it has entailed, or else it will end with illuminations intended to welcome the return of peace which they broke with so light a heart.

Let those who pride themselves upon the applause of the multitude see the worthlessness of the mere vapor for which they spend themselves. Blessed is he whose life is ruled by the will of God, and whose highest ambition is acceptance with the Most High through Jesus Christ His Son. His is an immortal and immutable inheritance, a crown of life which fadeth not away. Is the reader living wholly unto God? Then he shall not know the disappointment of those who put their trust in the sons of men, in whom is no strength. But hunters after popularity and aspirants for fame will do well to consider whether the mirage is worth their notice, or the will-o’-the-wisp worthy of their pursuit.

BLAME THE SCALE-:IAKER.

“The woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat.” — Gen. iii. 13. “Every man shall bear his own burden.” — Gal. vi. 5.

The “South London Press,” June 22, reports the following, among a number of other cases of unjust weights and measures: “A. B., cheesemonger. One machine. Defendajit said he paid a scale-maker los. 6d. to attend to it, and the neglect was his. The chairman said one of the first things defendant should have attended to was the correctness of his scales and weights. Fined £. Defendant thought the scale-maker ought to pay the fine. The clerk: ‘We look to you; we have nothing to do wuth the scale-maker.’”

National law is based upon the principle of personal responsibility, and it will not allow a transgressor to escape by pleading that he has shifted the burden of duty upon another. If in any cases responsibility could be transferred, it surely should be under the circumstances before us; but the law knows nothing of scalemakers, it deals with traders; and if anything be wrong with scales or weights it does not hold the shopkeeper guiltless, but visits the wrong upon him, even though he may have employed a person to keep his weights in order. This course appears to be severe, but it is both just and necessary; there would be no security for the purchaser, nor indeed for government itself, if the essential principle of personal responsibility could be departed from. Every man must bear his own burden.

Yet this truth is too often put into the background. In religion men have often acted as if the’ had altogether forgotten that it must of necessity be strictly personal. We hear of sponsors promising and vowing no end of things, and of priests performing service and doing the devotions of others. Proxies, however, in such matters are a sheer delusion; all true religion is a personal thing; m.en sin personally, and they must personally repent of that sin, or personally bear the guilt of it. No man can receive the new birth on behalf of another, nor can another man’s faith excuse us from believing in Jesus. Sanctification is not a boon to be vicariously received, any more than heaven can be vicariously enjoyed. A man may fancy that he pays a priest or a minister to do his religion for him, just as the tradesman paid the scale-maker; but the law does not recognize the transaction, it deals with principals only. We cannot leave our heavenly business in the hands of a clergyman as we place our secular affairs in the hands of a lawyer; we must believe in Jesus Christ on our own account, or judgment will go against us. It is true that in the matter of our justification before God we have been redeemed by the blood of our Substitute, and are accepted in His imputed righteousness; but in the practical application of the blessings thus procured everything must be direct and personal. Another may procure us food, but he cannot eat or digest it for us: Jesus has become our bread from heaven, but we must individually partake of Him if we would live for ever. Another may bring us a candle, but we cannot see the light except with our own vision, — nay more, even the Sun of Righteousness makes no man to see except by his own eyes.

Never, then, let us leave our doctrinal views to be settled for us by the Church, but let us search the Scriptures for ourselves; let us not derive our peace and confidence from the good opinion ot our pastor and the deacons, but aim at attaining a full assurance of our calling and election by the seal of the Spirit upon our own hearts; neither let us leave the work of the Lord to be discharged by others, but honestly render our fair share of the service. We must ask for grace to see to our own scales, and cease to leave to the scale-maker a matter which is altogether our own concern.

DESERTERS.

“Will ye also go away?” — Johx vi. 67.

“Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world.” — 2 Tim. iv. 10.

The “Daily News” of June 22, in an article upon the character of the men in the British army, says: “One great cause of misconduct is that few men enlist deliberateh’, but rather take the shilling as a means of escaping temporary trouble of some sort. Either a man is temporarily out of work, or he has a quarrel with his sweetheart, or he wishes for a while to keep out of the way of the police. Comparatively rarely does he become a soldier from a conviction that it is an honorable mode of earning a living, and that there are some extremely good prizes to be won. Hence speedy repentance, and if he is unable to purchase his discharge he will frequently in desperation steal, so openly that he must be discovered, some, to him, useless article, such as a broom or one boot.”

It seems, then, that very much depends upon the manner of the enlistment of soldiers, and we are quite sure that with young conver’s everything depends upon the reason for their enrolment in the army of Christ. If the’ merely come to Christ because they are under some temporary alarm of soul, and not because they are heartily convinced of the error of their ways, they will probably desert from the standard of the cross as soon as the temporary pressure of natural conviction is removed. The awakening sermon is forgotten, the alarming providence is over, the eloquent revivalist has gone to another town, and the superficial converts regret that they ever made a profession of religion, and under one pretext or another they slide away. How well it is that our young friends should count the cost and understand what they are doing, and then should deliberately and heartily cast in their lot with the people of God. They must be convinced that to be a Christian is right and honorable, and for their own eternal good; they must also be assured that the cause is one of truth and righteousness, and that in it lies all their hope of eternal salvation, — they must, in a word, be renewed in the spirit of their minds, or they will soon be the prey of temptation, and the Church will be filled with alarm at the large number of deserters.

Our Lord was always anxious that men should be saved, but He was never in a hurry to gather nominal disciples. When the scribe said to Him, “Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest,” He did not reply, as many of us would have done, with a pressing invitation and an enthusiastic welcome; but He was far more wise in His procedure, for He replied, “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but I, the Son of man, have not where to lay My head.” He put before him the poverty of the Captain and the hard fare of the soldier. When the multitude thronged around Him, He did not commence taking their names, enrolling them as His converts, and counting heads in order to publish astounding statistics, but, on the contrary. He sifted them with words like these: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye seek Me, not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled.” The recruiting-sergeants of her Majesty’s army are so anxious to get hold of the men that they are not scrupulous as to the arguments they use. Drink is freely given, the soldier’s condition is set forth in rosy colors, and the young man is cajoled and seduced into a way of life which he would not have thoughtfully chosen; but it must not be so among us. We may not repel any man who wishes to join our ranks, but we may not persuade men and women to make a hasty profession, and take the name of Christian upon them to please their friends. The door must not be closed with lock and key, but there must be a porter to open it, in order that the sheep, and not the goats, may go in and out and find pasture. Since the porter himself may be readily deceived, it is every man’s personal responsibility to see that he enters with his heart and soul into the Church of God, if he does enter at all; and it is at his own peril that he dares to intrude unworthily or insincerely into the fold of Christ.

A profession carelessly made will soon be dishonorably abandoned. We know who it was that said: “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us: but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us.” He who wrote these words was of a loving nature, and never formed a harsh judgment, and therefore from his verdict we conclude that the backslidings and apostasies which weaken the visible Church of Christ are caused by a want of reality at the comm.encement of the religious life. There was no root, and therefore the plant withered when the sun was risen with burning heat. There was no call to the soldier’s life, or the reputed warrior of the Cross would not have so shamefully deserted the colors. Hence the stern necessity of our being careful in examining all candidates, and honest in warning them of their responsibilities.

“Have ye counted the cost,
Have ye counted the cost,
Ye warriors of the Cross?
Are ye fixed in heart, for your Master’s sake,

To suffer all earthly loss?
Can ye bear the scoff of the worldly-wise,

As ye pass by Pleasure’s bower
To watch with your Lord on the mountain-top
Through the weary midnight hour?

“Do ye answer, ‘We can,’
Do ye answer, ‘We can,’
Through His love’s constraining powder r
But do ye remember the flesh is weak.

And shrinks in the trial hour?
Yet yield to His hand who around you now

The cords of a man would cast,
The bands of His love who was smitten for you.
To the altar binding you fast.

“In the power of His might,
In the power of His might,
Who was made through weakness strong,
Ye shall overcome in the fearful fight,

And sing His victory song.
But count ye the cost, yea, count ye the cost, —

The forsaking all ye have.
Then take up your cross and follow your Lord,
Not thinking your life to save.”

THE BEST PREPARATION FOR THE SECOND ADVENT.

“Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning; and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord.” — Luke xii. 35, 36.

The “Dally Telegraph” has a leading article commencing as follows: —

“There is a well-known story in New England which relates that about a century ago a day of remarkable gloom and darkness overspread the States of Massachusetts and Connecticut, — a day still spoken of in local histories as ’ the dark aay,’ when the light of the sun was slowly extinguished as if by an eclipse. The legislature of Connecticut happened at that moment to be in session, and, to quote an American writer, * As its members saw the unexpected and unaccountable darkness coming on, they shared in the general awe and terror. It was supposed by man)- that the Last Day — the Day of Judgment — had come, and in the consternation of the hour some member moved the adjournment of the House. Then straightway there arose an old Puritan legislator, Davenport of Stamford, and said that if the Last Day had come, he desired to be found in his place and doing his duty; for which reasons he moved that candles should be brought, so that the House might proceed with its debate.”

This Davenport of Stamford was a wise man. What could the other senators have suggested which would be equally suitable for the occasion? If it had been the Last Day, would they have been more ready for it if they had gone to their homes and waited there in idleness? Would it have been more seemly to have rushed into the street, and to have stood there with gaping mouths looking upward to the sky? What was better than being ready for whatever might happen, and waiting at the post of duty? We believe firmly in the second advent of Christ, and in the grand fact that He may come at such an hour as we think not; but what of that? What is the practical use of the revelation? Are we to forego matters of imm.ediate concern in order to pry into the impenetrable darkness of the future? Are we to make ourselves into mere star-gazers and prognosticators? Are we to spend our time in idle wonder, concluding that every time we hear of wars and rumors of wars, and read of earthquakes in divers places, it is an infallible token that the end of the world is near? Why, there have been wars and rumors of wars, and all the other signs, a score of times, and yet the world wags on at its usual rate. No; rather let us give ourselves up more entirely to the pressing demands of our Lord’s household; let us bring out of His storehouse things new and old, continue to feed our fellow-servants, and welcome home the wanderers; and then, whether the Master come at cockcrow or at midnight, it will signify little enough to us. We shall welcome Him whenever He comes, and He will meet us with joy, for “blessed is that servant whom his Lord when He cometh shall find so doing.”

Master Davenport of Stamford doubtless had a solid confidence in the Lord Jesus; his faith had fixed itself upon His first advent, and received the salvation which Jesus came to bring; and therefore, delivered from all trepidation and alarm, he did not share in the general terror, nor draw inferences of alarm from the unexpected and unaccountable darkness. The heavens might fall, but he dwelt above the heavens, and in quietness and assurance was his strength. Moreover, the good man possessed a faith which manifested itself by works; his business was his religion, and religion was his business. He believed he was called of God to sit in the legislature of Connecticut, and therefore there he sat; he only wanted candles, that he might see what he was at. He was doing what was right, he was there to vote for justice and truth, and if his Master had come, he would have risen from his seat and said, ‘’ Here I am, in the place Thou wouldst have me to occupy.” We remember once calling upon one of our members, a sister who managed her household with discretion. She was in humble circumstances, and when we stopped opposite her house she was whitening the front steps. She rose from her pail, and apologized for being found with her sleeves up; but we begged her to make no excuse, for she was doing her duty, and we earnestly hoped that when our Lord should come He would find us in the same condition. If she had known we were coming, it is just possible she would have put on her best gown, and have been waiting in the little parlor; but we should not have been one half as charmed with her prepared appearance as with the exhibition of her every-day industry. The most fitting condition for death and for judgment is to be diligent in the Master’s business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. The times are very dark: bring in the candles, and let the House proceed with the present business.

Thus we close, wishing our readers to remember the words of Him who so shortly shall appear: “Behold, I come quickly; and My reward is with Me, to give every man according as his work shall be. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last. Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.”

Pr~

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