PBINCETON, . -A". j/._ _ ill BR 50 .C48 1846 The Christian treasury 'IMio Jjiliii !>1. Krclis DoiiHtioit. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. CONTAINING CONTKIBUTIONS EEOM MINISTEKS AND MEMBERS VARIOUS EVANGELICAL DENOMINATIONS. EDINBURGH: JOHN JOHNSTONE, HUNTER SQUARE. LONDON : RICHARD GROOMBRIDGE & SONS. GLASGOW: J. R. M'NAIR & CO. MDCCCXLVI. PEEFACE." In bringing to a close this volume of tlie " CnKisTiAU Treasury," the Editor does not deem it necessary to say much. He is conscious of many imperfections in its management, and less interested critics may, perhaps, have discovered many more. At the same time he trusts that the readers of the periodical have found in its pages a large quantity of really interesting, valu- able, and improving material. The contents of the "TREASURY"havebeenof a very varied kmd. It has been enriched with contributions from many of the most gifted men of our time— the deep and extensive mine of old Christian authorship has been as far as possible explored, and many precious fragments, sometimes rough, but always weighty, have been extracted— drafts have been made upon contemporary banks, many of them wealthy and of established reputation — while gems and jewels not a few have been borrowed from the sacred exchequer of the poets. All these the Editor has done his best to procure and arrange, adding occasionally a mite of his own i and while the work has cost him, certainly, much trouble, he can truly say that it has brought its own reward, and has given him more pleasure. And if there has been any reward higher and more honourable — if by the instrumentality of the "Christian Treasury," any soul, poor in present possession, and in prospect poorer, has been led to seek after " the unsearchable riches;" if thereby any, already rich iu faith and in good works, and heirs of the kingdom, have been taught to " covet even more ear- nestly the best gifts," and to strive after the increasing of their " heavenly treasures;" if any have found pleasure, or comfort, or instruction in its pages — the Editor would desire, with all thank- fulness and humility, to bless the God who has thus condescended to own and bonour his labours. Tk'> Editor is happy to be able to say, that he has succeeded in securing for the new volume, about to be commenced, the assistance of the leading ministers of most of the Evangelical Churches of our land, and also of several highly distinguished Christian laymen; and he fondly hopes that, under such auspices, the " Christian Treasury" may prove truly worthy of its name, may commend itself to the approbation and support of the Christian public, and may be power- ful, in the Lord's hand, as an instrument of good. February, 1846, CONTEXTS. PRACTICAL PAPERS. By the Rev. James Hamilton, lyondon, By the Rev. James Robeitson, By the Rev. Andrew Thom- Alpha and Omega 543. Bethany, The Family of. Edinburgh, 109. Christ, No Salvation out of. son, Edinburgh, 7. Christ, The Present and Future Consequences of Opposi- tion to. By the Kev. Patrick Fairbairn, Salton, 181. Conscience, Cure of an F.vil. By the Rev. Jonathan R. Anderson, Glasgow, 397. Conversion of Sinners, Special Power of God in the. By the Kev. James Begg, Edinburgh, 7.3. Day- Spring, The, from on High. By the Rev. James Robert.son, Edinburgh, 349. Death, Prei)aration for. By \V. L. Alexander, D.D., Edin- burgh, 457. Dishonesty in Religious M.itters. By the Rev. D. T. K. Drummond, Edinburgh, .517. Emmaus, Tiie Journey to. By the Rev. Jonathan Watson, Edinburgh, 5G. Evidences, Illustrations of Scripture. By the Rev. James Taylor, St Andrews, 421, 470, 497. Faith, its Nature, Value, and Etiacacy. By the Rev. Ed. Vv^ Th. Kuntze, Berlin, 265. Faith and Penitence. By the Rev. J. A. Wallace, Hawick, 536. First lAnes and Last Touches. By George Redford, D.D., Worcester, 3S9. Free Grace, .Superiority of a, to a Self- Righteous Salvation. By the Kov. 1. G. Loriraer, Glasgow, 241, 28.'J, 317. " His Voice as the Sound of Many Waters." By W. D. Killen, O. D., 433. Husbandman, Some Lessons in Moral and Spiritual Disci- pline, Supplied by the Calling of the. By W. M'Cora- bie, Esq., 452. Jacob Wrestling with the Angel. By the Kev. .Alexander Beith, Stirling, 97. Love of God in Clirist Jesus. By the Kev. Thomas Guthrie, Edinburgh, 37. Jordan, The Passage of. By the Rev. Jonathan Watson, Edinburgh, 277. Lazarus, The Rich Man and. By the Rev. John Fairbairn, Allanton, tCta. Law, Equity and Benignity of the Divine. By John Brown, D.D., Edinburgh, 1-3, 30. Life, The Path of. By the Rev. James Begg, Edinburgh, .361. Life, the Antecedent of Immortality. By the Rev. Octa- vius Winslow, Leamington, 553. Looking to Our Ways. By the Rev. John Fairbairn, .Mlanton, 325. Manna Gathered from the Ground. By the Rev. William .•irnot. Glasgow, 21, C. Landsborough, 488. Berbe. By the Rev. D. Landsborout,h, ,591. Bible in Syria, The, 358. Blind Divines, 220. Communion Sabbath in a Coloured Congregation, 57. Communion Sabbath in the Burn of Fetrintosh, l(i3. Clocks, Church, Uses of, 33,5, 442. Guldens, The, 178. Feudal System, Tlie, 391. Geneva, Revival of Religion in, 220. Holland, The (Jospel in, 297. Luther, the Church of. By the Rev. P. Fairliairn, Salton, 2(.5, 253, 270. Mohammedanism in India, 59. Moses a Natural Historian, 190. Natur;d History, Uses of. By the Rev. D. Land.sboroiigh, 137, 2 1 2. Sacrific(?s, Human, 179. Sinai, Monks at, 322. Simoom, The, 318. Solomon a Natural Historian, 190. Sibbath Schools, Teaching of Reading in, 359. Syria, The Bible in, ,358 Waldeiises, i he, 304, 314. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. CONTAINING CONTRIBUTIONS FROM MINISTERS AND MEMBERS OP VARIOUS EVANGELICAL DENOMINATIONS. TRUE AND FALSE PEACE. BY JAMES BUCHANAN, D.D., EDINBURGH. Ov a superficial view of the state of society, it might seem as if the majority of mankind were assured of their safety, and little, if at all, im- pressed with a sense of fear in regard to the state and prospects of their souls. Except in some rai-e cases of sharp conviction or spiritual awakening, they contrive generally to say to themselves, " Peace, peace ; " and often succeed in allaying every apprehension of danger, and cherishing a careless, but confident security. There are a few evei-ywhere, who, having been awakened to serious thought, and stirred up to earnest inquiry, liavc discovered a sure ground of hope, and have tlius arrived at " a peace whicli passeth all understanding, and which keepeth their mind and heart tlirough Christ Jesus." But tliere are many more wlio have never reflected at all, or have only bestowed a hasty and occasional thought on their state and prospects as subjects of the divine govern- ment, whose peace seems to be seldom disturbed by tlie intrusion of any anxious fears, and who appear to pass through life in tolerable com- posure and comfort. The negative peace which the latter enjoy, consisting mainly in the absence of anxiety and alarm, is widely different from the humble, but holy and lieavenly peace, M'hich belongs to God's believing ])eople; yet, there are so many apparent resemblances betwixt the two, that the one may be mistaken for the otlier, or suj)posed, at least, to be the same in kind, if not in degree; and it may be iiseful, therefore, to consider both, by placing tliem in tiie light of comparison or contrast, and to illustrate the nature of each, while we discriminate the dif- ference betwixt the two. In doing so, it shall be our object to show that there is a tast dif- ference hetirijct the security of unmcakened sinners, presuming on their safety, and the hearen-horn peace produced by a discovery of Gospel truth ; and to ])re- sent, at the sametime, sucii practical criteria or tests as may enable every one to ascertain for himself what is the condition of his own soul. There is a true peace and a false — the one a precious privilege, and the other a perilous de- lusion. There is a true peace, which the Gospel is de- signed and fitted to impart ; for it is described as " the Gospel of peace " (Rom. x. 15)—" the word which God sent, preaching peace by .Jesus Christ" (Acts X. 36); and the Gospel rightly understood and really believed, never fails to impart some measure of peace ; for " there is joy and peace in believing." It reveals God as " "the very God of peace" (1 Thess. v. 23); it unfolds his covenant as " the covenant of his peace " (Isa. liv.lO; Ezek. xxxiv. 25); it points to Christ as the " Pi-ince of Peace" (Isa. ix. G); nay, as being himself " our proi)itiation," and there- fore " our peace." — Eph. ii. 14: — His ministers are called " ambassadors of peace," and his people, " sons of peace." And this true peace is described as the gift of God : "The Lord of i)eace give you peace always by all means " (2 Thess. iii. IG)— as tlie purchase and legacy of Christ: " Peace I leave witli you, my peace'l give unto you ; not as the world givetli, give I unto you : let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid "—as the fruit of tlie Spirit : " For the fruit of the Spirit is peace" — ;s the present privilege of the believer : " For, being justified by faith, we have peace witli God through our Lord Jesus Clirist" (Kom. v. 1) — as the pre- cious benediction and blessing of God to the Church : " Grace be unto you, and peace from God our Father, and the Loid .Tesus Christ" — as a constituent element of the new creation; for " tlie kingdom of (rod consistcth in righ- teousness, and /vncc, and joy in the IIoly(ihost;" and, finally, as tlie end and object of the wliole dispensation of grace; for tliis is its descriptive motto: " Glory to God in the highest : peace on earth, and good-will to men." The mere de- scrijjtion of tliis peace in scriptural language is sufiicient to indicate its nature. It springs from a Ijelieving ai)prelu'nsion of the mercy of God in Ciirist, and rests on the divine testimony as its ultimate and infallible ground. It is not a persuasion for which no reason can be given, THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. nor a presumption Tjiiilt on mere human specii- l;:tion ;— it has its ground and warrant in the Word. It arises from an apprehension of the i\rcaled character and icill of God, "as God in Clirist reconciling the world imto himself :" — "The just God and the Saviour;" from an acquiescence in his own method of salvation through the blood and rij^htcousncss of Clirist; and from a cordial belief of the great and pre- cious promises in which He speaks peace to his people and his saints. But there is a false peace, widely different from this, which prevails extensively in the world, and which springs naturally from the delusions of human error, just as the other does from the discovery of diviue truth. This false peace, where it does not spring from utter thought- lessness, and is professedly ascribed to any assignable reason, naay be traced to three dis- tinct, but connected sources ; first. To a spirit of atheistical presumption, which, whether com- bined with theoretical intidelity, or appearing onlyintheformofpractical ungodliness, prompts multitudes to imagine and to feel as if " God v,-ere altogether such an one as themselves." — Ps. 1. 21:^ — they secretly persuade themselves that " God will not do good, neither will he do evil " — that he is either too great to regard, or too gracious to punish, sin ; and hence practi- cally, although not perhaps in so many words, they adopt tlie sentiment ascribed to the un- godly of old : " He hath said in his heart, God hath forgotten, he hideth his face, he will never see it." " Wherefore doth the wicked contemn God? He hath said in his heart, 'i'hou wilt not require it." — Ps. x. 1], 13. Hcrondly, It may be traced to slight and inade- quate views of sin — a source connected with the former; for " he that hath slight thoughts of sin had never great thoughts of God." — Ps. 1. And, tliirdhj. These sources of false jieace are replenished with fresh supplies drawn fi'om the fountain of grace and tinith itself; for the carnal security of many an uncon- verted man is sustained, there is too miicli I'casoa to fear, by a vague apprehension of mercy, derived from the words of Scripture, ill understood, and worse applied; such an ai:»pre- liension of moi'cy as may be produced by the mere occurrence of such expressions as these : " God is merciful ;" — " He has no pleasure in the death of the sinner ;" — " He waiteth to be gracious, and is ready to forgive." These, and similar expressions occurring frequently in Scripture, and often addressed to the careless from the pulpit, may serve, when divorced from the scheme of divine truth, and considered isolated and apart, to engender a false and pre- sumptuous confidence, which, although pro- fessedly resting on a part of God's revealed tnitii, is, nevertheless, a fatal delusion, and has jiotliiiig in common with the peace of God's children, Avhich rests on the whole testimony of the Woi-d, and not on any partial or de- fective view of it. For many are chargeable with " turning the grace of God into licentious- ness," and " continuing in sin, because grace abounds" — the doctrine of grace, which, in its own nature, is a " doctrine according to godli- ness," being perverted, by the deceitfulness of man's heart, into an opiate for the conscience, and a pretext for sinning without fear. Oh ! it is fearful to think that many may thus be hardening, imder our ministry, by the very doctrine of grace which should melt and sub- due them; and that the very same words which bring true peace to the believing soul, may be the means of under-propping the false security of the formalist — proving, in the one case, " the savour of life unto life;" in the other, " the savour of death unto death." From a comparison of the two kinds of peace which have been described, it will be evident that there is a wide and essential difference betwixt them; but the nature of that diffe- rence may be still further illustrated by a series of particulars, exhibiting the characteristic features of each, and furnishing materials for ascertaining the actual condition of our own souls. I. True peace is the fruit of serious thought; and the more thoroughly its foimdation is exa- mined, the more sure and stable it becomes: — false peace is the fruit either of inconsiderate levity, or of gross delusion, and cannot stand the test of a rigid scrutiny. Here is a wide difference betwixt the two; but which is the more likely to be solid in its nature, and per- manent in its duration ? — which best befits a rational, intelligent, and resjjonsible being? — that which proceeds on a mere assumption, taken for granted, without proof, in a light and careless si)irit, while it relates to interests so momentous as those of an immortal soul and an awful eternity? — or that which has been the result of a careful trial, of a serious exer- cise of thought, and an earnest inquiiy after t3-uth ? In tiie one case, there has been heart- felt anxiety on a subject seen to be one of urgent and awful interest; and that anxiety has been removed only by a clear apprehen- sion of the ground of a sinner's hope ; in the other, there has been no distress of mind — no deep or abiding sense of sin — no awakening conviction of danger; or, if misgivings and fears liavo been occasionally felt, they have been stifled and repressed by a strong effort to believe that they were visionary and ground- less— not appeased or removed by a discovery of Gospel truth. You cannot fail to see, not only that there is a wide difference betwixt these two states of mind, but that the one is, at least, more likely to be safe and sure than the othei-. Is yours, then, a peace that si)ri;igs from serious thoughtfulness, that rests on in- telligible reasons, and can bear to be tested by truth ? — or is it a peace spriuging from igno- rance, that can live only imder the shade of error, and wliicli a single ray of Heaven's light would scathe and destroy? 2. True peace is the fruit of a lively faith — grasping the Avliole counsel of God, and apply- ing it to our own case; — false peace is the fruit either of total unhdief, or of partial and defective viem of revealed truth. The one is " peace in helieving" (ilom. xv. 13), the other is peace iu xot believing. In the former case, the believer surveys the whole range of re- vealed truth; and, while he finds many mys- teries there — many depths which he cannot fathom, many dilScultics which he cannot solve — he discovers enough to lay a sure and solid ground of present peace and future hope : he acipiiesces in God's method of salvation; and were his faith in it perfect, his peace would be perfect too : it is never disturbed, except through the influence of remaining unbelief, and is ever most lively when he has the clearest views, and the most realizing impressions, of things unseen and eternal. How difFereut, how o])posito from this, is the false peace which depends for its being on the disbelief or exclusion of some part or other of God's truth ! Yet how many cherish that peace which unbelief alone begets, and which faith would utterly destroy! It may be said of multitudes, that their peace springs not so much from the faith of Christ's Gospel, i\s from disbelief of God's lair. They may not profess infidel or sceptical opinions; on the contrary, they may make a vague, general profession of belief in the Scrip- tures; but they take a partial view of the great system of truth which is there revealed ; and, whatever is repugnant to their natural taste, or alien from their habitual trains of thought, or fitted to fpiicken and alarm the conscience, they contrive to exclude from their creed, or, at least, from their habitual contemplation : they live very much as they might do did they believe there is no holy God above them — no solemn judgment-seat before them — no dreadful hell beneath them. Were these imseeu things revealed so as to be recognised as great realities, their present peace would be instantly destroyed. And what does this prove, but that their peace is a mere delusion, depending for its very being on the success with which they contrive to dis- believe or forget some of the greatest truths of God's Word — some of the most tremen- dous realities of the world that is unseen and eternal ? 3. True peace is associated with profound reverence for God — with satisfaction and de- light in all his perfections and prerogatives, and with zeal for his honour and glovy;— false peace is combined with jealousy and distrust of God, and either indiirereut to his glory, or bitterly opposed to it. The believer can look to God AS HE IS, in all the fulness and variety of his perfections, and yet experience a peace v.'hich " passeth all understanding." lie can think of that unsullied holiness which cannot look upon sin; that impartial justice which condemns it ; that iuilexible truth which is pledged to punish it ; that pure and watchful eye, which ia his all-seeing witness; that awful prerogative which lie claims as the rightful sovereign and the supreme judge; — he can think of all these without the consciousness of a wish that God's character were, iu any respect, other than it really is ; and the clearer his views become, the more stable is his peace and hope — ^just be- cause he has been taught how all the attributes of the divine nature may be glorified in his salvation — how harmoniously they co-operate in the work of grace, and how Jehovah can be at once the just God and the Saviour. He has seen " the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ;" and hence- forth the brighter manifestation of that glory to himself and others, is the one grand object of his habitual desires and aims. How diffe- rent the false peace which cannot endure the thought of God as he is! — which depends on a partial viev/ of his character — which demands the excision of holiness, or justice, or faithful- ness, or sovereignty from the list of Jehovah's attributes ; and which, when this concession is made, remains indifferent to his glory; if that concession be refused, is bitterly opposed to it ! Can it be a safe peace — can it be other than a perilous delusion which men indulge, when they are constrained to divest. God of his essential perfections or prerogatives, if they would suc- ceed iu maintaining it undisturbed, or, at least, to exclude one or other of them habitually from their thoughts ? And yet how many are in this condition ! — how many whose peace would be destroyed, did they conceive of God as he is! 4. True peace cures distress of conscience; false peace prevents or stifles it. Conscience is God's vicegerent in the soul — a witness testify- ing to the authority of the divine law, marking our conduct in regard to it, warning the trans- gressor of his guilt and danger, and appealing to a higher tribunal — even the judgment-seat of God himself. This moi-al power exists in all ; and often, in the case both of converted and unconverted men, it occasions deep distress. It was under the lash of an accusing conscience that David lay in sackcloth, and Peter wept bitterly, and Felix trembled, and Judas hanged himself. This distress of conscience is cured by the peace which the Gospel inspires. When the efficacy of Christ's blood is known and believed, " the heart is thereby sprinkled from an evil conscience" — it is " purged from dead works;" and the transgressor has " no more conscience of sin" as an unforgiven thing. And the peace of conscience, which is thus produced by the faith of the Gospel, is maintained and confirmed by the habit of holy living ;— the believer " keeps the mystery of faith in a pure conscience," and " exercises himself to have a conscience void of offence, both towards God and man." The Gos- pel is thus eifectual in producing true peace of conscience, because the method of salvation which it proposes meets and satisfies the de- mands of conscience, as well as the claims of God, whose mere vicegsrent conscience is. It does not proclaim amnesty for sin — it does not relax the authority or reiiuiremeiits of the lav/ it does not waive or dispense with the high perfections and i)rerogatives of the supreme Lawgiver and Judg;-; but it reveals a salvation ! based on the principle of a satisfaction — it pro- claims peace on the footing of a propitiation; and as soon as the glorious doctrine is under- stood and believed, conscience is fully satisfied, and the very " peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keeps the heart and mind through Christ Jesus." But distress of conscience is either prevented on the one hand, or suppressed on the other, by that perilous delusion which passes under the name of peace among unconverted men. The false opinion, that God is too great to regard, and too good to punish sin, to which I have already referred as one of the sources of this spurious peace, often acts as a shield to the conscience, repelling every arrow of conviction, and turning the edge even of the Sword of the Spirit. Cased in this panoply, many a hearer sits unmoved under the most awakening minis- try; and, as if " his conscience were seared witli a hot iron," he is utterly insensible both of his guilt and danger. But sometimes the Word, which is sharper than any two-edged sword, inflicts a wound: the slumbering con- science is startled for a time, its fond dream is broken, and then, pricked in his heart, the sinner is either exasperated into rage, like those who " were cut to the heart" by Stephen's preaching, and " gnashed on him with their teeth;" or they are stirred up, like those on Pentecost, to inquire, " What must we do to be saved?" But here the same perilous delu- sion, wliich has failed to prevent, is often em- ployed to suppress, the misgivings of conscience. It is at hand, as an opiate, to deaden the pain of that wound, and thus the hurt of many is healed slightly, because they say to themselves — " Peace, peace, when there is no peace." Oh ! on that awful day wlien the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, how many scars will be brought to light ! — the marks of wounds once inflicted by the Sword of the Spirit, which have been allowed to close and fester, without any radical cure ; and how solemn the reckon- ing that must then be made for so many con- victions stifled, so much resistance to God's truth, and so much deceitful tampering with conscience itself ! 5. True peace is ever found in union with love to God, and delight in his fellowship; while false peace is consistent with great and habi- tual estrangement from God and his service. Tiie peace which arises from an apprehension of God's pardoning mercy, draws the heart to God. Mary loved much, because " much had been forgiven ;" and David said : " I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my sui)plication8; because he hath inclined his car unto me, therefore will 1 call upon him as long as I live." — Ps. cxvi. 1, 2. It is this that gives life and liveliness to the believer's prayers, and brings him frequently to a throne of grace. But false jieace, as if it carried about with it a latent sense of its own hollo wness, keeps much at a distance from God ; it restrains prayer — it has no delight in secret devotion, and little sjTnpathy even with public worship. It may observe the form — foi", by the desperate deceitfulness of the human heart, the form of godliness may help to sustain this false confidence, even where the power of godliness is denied ; but, apart from this use of outward observances, as a means of quieting and soothing the conscience, there is no longing for God's presence, no love for his fel- lowship, and no sympathy with the serious seekers of his face. I know, indeed, no surer test of the peace which any man possesses than this — is it a peace that prompts, or is it a peace that prevents, prayer ? " Will the hypocrite always call upon God ? " 6. True peace is inseparable /rom the fear and hatred of sin, and is a powerful motive to a life of cheerful and unreserved obedience; false peace secretly encourages the soul to continue in the indulgence of its sins, and keeps it from aspir- ing after anyeminent degreeof holiness, whether in heart or life. The peace which is inspired by the faith of the Gospel, may be said to be in part the cause, and in part the effect, of new obedience. It is the cause, as it is the princijjle or motive, the source or spring, whence cheerful obedience flows; for it is " the grace of God which bringeth salvation, which teaches us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, and righteously, and godly, in the world." — Tit. ii. 11, 12. And it is also the effect, as it is the result of a believer's experience; " for to be spiritually-minded is life and peace" (Rom. viii. 6) ; and, " The work of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever." — Isa. xxxii. 17. The Gospel, which is " the Word of peace," is also " a doctrine according to godliness ;" and no one can enjoy the peace which that Word imparts without being brought, at the sametime, under its purifying influence, and sanctifying power. But false peace makes men easy and indifferent about sin and duty ; it secretly en- courages them with the hope of impunity, and thereby tempts them to continue in the indul- gence of their favourite lusts and passions; it represents the heights of holy living as in- acces sible, or, if accessible at all, steep and arduous in the ascent, and not necessary to be reached for securing their safety. Thus " ungodly men turn the grace of God into licen- tiousness," and " continue in sin, because gi'ace abounds." 7. True peuce is perfected at death, when false peace is utterly broken tip and destroyed. Death is the king of terrors, and his approach, even although he be the last enemy, may sometimes appal the coui-age and disturb the peace of the believer himself; but the grounds of his hope are BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLI A?,rS. adequate to sustain him even in that last conflict ; and when he is enabled to realize the presence anil promise of God, he can joyfully exclaim : "Yea, though I walk through the dark valley of tl:9 shadow of deatli, I will fear no evil; foi- thou rt with me; thy rod and tliy staff tliey comfort me." As death draws nigh, he com- mits his soul into God's hand, saying, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in eace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." — Luke ii. 29. Tlien " he lifteth up his head, knowing tliat his redemj)- tion is drawing near;" and after death, his 2>cace will be perfect and perpetual. " I\Iark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." — Ps. xxxvii. 37. As soon as the silver cord is broken — as soon as the con- nection between soul and body is dissolved — his emancipated spirit, freed from every fottei-, en- ters into perfect rest — "the rest which remain- eth for tlie people of God." " When that v/hich is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away;" and the partial, weak, and fluctuating peace which the believer enjoyed on earth shall be succeeded by "joy iiuspeak- alde, and full of glory;" — " an inheritance in- cojTuptible, undeliled, aud that fadeth not away." But the perilous delusion which passes under the name of peace among unconverted men will be utterlj' broken up and destroyed at death; not, it may be, by the approach of the last enemy; for there are some " who have made a covenant with death, and with hell are at agreement, and who go down into the grave with a lie in their right hand." — Isa. xxviii. 15; — nay, not even the passage through the dark valley; for such is the desperate malignity of self-deceit, that it would seem, from our Lord's parable, as if some may come up to the judgment-seat itself, saying " Peace, peace, when there is no peace," reckoning securely on their acceptance there, and even claiming it as their due : " Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name ?" to whom he will answer, "I never know you; depart from me !" But if neither the approach of death, nor the passage through the dark valley, yet assuredly the realities of an eternal world, will dissipate and destroy this fatal delusion; then " the hypocrite's lu:)pe shall perish ; " — then, if not before, " the sinners in Zion shall be afraid; fearfuluess shall surprise the hypo- crites. Wlio among us shall dwell with the devouring fire ? wlio among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings ?" — Isa. xxxiii. 14. " Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us, aud to the hills, Cover us; hide us fi-om the wr.".th of God, and of the Lamb." — Luke xxiii. 30. Then " God sliall sweep away every refuge of lies" (Ezck. xiii. 10); and the wall wiiicli was daubed with untempered mortar shall fall, and the conscience that was drugged wi'.h the opiate of false doctrine shall awake, and the sinner shall meet God, face to face, as " a consuming fire." UNION OF CHRISTIANS. Ouu earthly tics are weak, Whereon wc dare not rest; For time dissolves and death will break The sweetest and the best. Yet there's a tic which must remaia, Which time and death aosault in vain. The kindred links of life are bright. Yet not so bright as those In which Christ's f.ivour'd friends unite. And each on each repose. Where all the hearts in union cling To Him, the centre and the spring. The friends of Jesus, join'd to think With one desire and aim — A chain, wherein link answers lick — A heavenly kindi-ed claim; And O ! how sweet, wherein each mind A tlu'ob to echo theirs they find ! Though lovely many an eai'thly fiower. Its beauty fades and iiies ; But they, unchanging, form a bower, To bloom in ParacUse. Sprung from the true immortal Vine, In Him they live, and round liim twine. Their bond is not an earthly love, || By Nature's fondness nurs'd : As they love Him vrho reigns above, Because Ha lov'd them first, So they all minor ties disown, The sweetest — for His sake alone. Axon. THE REV. JOHN WILLIAi^.IS. MISSIONARY TO TUB SOITH SEAS. PAIiT^.^THE COJ.VJSRT. John' Wii.liajms was born in London on the 29th of June 1796, and, in his early years, enjoyed the inestimable privilege of a pious mother's training. His mother, in her youth- ful days, though sitting under the ministry, and favoured with the friendship, of the evangelical Romaine, had been a careless hearer of the Word, and an entire stranger to the power of religion. But soon after her marriage, she was brought to the knowledge of the truth, aud sub- sequently made it the endeavour of her life to do what she could, in her own sphere, for Clii-ist. Tlie religious education of her cliildren formed to her — as to Christian mothers it always must foi-m — a subject of .special anxiety and care ; her sense of responsibility in the matter being, if possible, increased by the fact, that her part- ner was not at tliat time, nor, indeed, during her life, " like-minded" with herself. And ac- coi-dingly, besides the exercise of that hallowing inHueuce which must ever attend the daily walic and conversation of a Christian mother, we are told that " every morning and evening she con- ducted them to her chamber for instruction and prayer ; and there, with a simplicity and freedom to which, in after years, her son was accustonn-l to refer with grateful pleasure, gave expression THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. to Ikt pious solicitude for their salvation."* Vov some years, howevei-, slic did not reap where she had sown, at least in the case of him who is the suhject of this memoir. The work of conversion was not her's, but the Lord's, and his good time had not yet come. When the period anived at which it was neces- sary to determine upon their son's future course, and he himself Iiaving no predilection for any particular lino, his pantits bound liin\, as ap- prentice to a Mr I'2noch Tonkin, a furnishing ironmonger, then residing in the City Road, and who, with his wife, was held in high esteem by ]\Irs Williams for consistent and unobtrusive piety. She had resolved that the spiritual inte- rests of her son should not be sacriiiced to any secular advantage, and thus took care to place him with a family in which the Lord was feared. It was provided in his indentures that young Williams should be taught only the commercial part of the business, and exempted from its more laborious and merely mechanical depart- ments. But very providentially, as it afterwards turned out, this arrangement was not adhered to. We are told that It was not long before it became evident to those wlio were with liim, that the implements and pro- cesses of the workshop presented to his eye attrac- tions far superior to those of the flnished and po- lished wares which furnished the wndows, and glittered on the shelf. Frequently did the members of Mr Tonkin's family mark wtli a kindly smile the manifest pleasure with which " John " left the coun- ter and loitered near the workmen, eagerly watching every stroke of the hammer and every movement of the hand; and not a little were they amused to find tliat when, at the accustomed hours for meals, the men had left the shop, he had stolen into their place, and was occupying some deserted bench, or busily bloiving at the forge, for the purpose of bringing his previous observations to a practical test. This course was often repeated, and in this way he taught him- self, in a surprisingly short time, to form and finish many of the common articles belonging to the trade. .... So beautifully, indeed, did he " turn out " his work, that at length Mr Tonkin found it for Ids own interest to request him to execute orders in which great delicacy and exactness were required. But while thus diligent in business,and "amia- ble," besides, in the world's sense of that term, " one thing he yet lacked," and that was " the one thing needful." His " heart was not right v/itli God;" and, as he grew in years, and came more in contact with the world, the serious im- pressions produced in childhood, by his mother's hidy example and earnest prayers, gradually faded from his mind, and were at last all but etfacod and forgotten. Referring afterwards to this period, he writes :— " My course, though not outwardly immoral, was very a\ icked. 1 was regardless of the holy Sabbath— a lover of jileasure more than a lover of God." And to this he adds, what his mother did not even sus- pect, bat a feature too frequently associated with tliat already described :— " I often scoffed at the name of * I-ife of John Williams. By the Rev. Ebenezer Prout, Holstead. Snow, London. Christ and his religion, and totally neglected those things which alone can aflbrd solid consolation." At that time the idea of his being a mis- sionary of the Cross would have been laughed at by himself, and reckoned uy his friends as of all tilings the most improbable. But the Lord's ways are not as the ways of man, nor are man's thoughts like His. He is " found of those who seek him not ;" and He was found of Williams. The circumstances attending his conver- sion are of a remarkable kind. Iiaving be- come the associate of several young men who, like himself, disregarded the Sabbath, and had forsaken the sanctuary, he was in the custom of spending his Sabbath evenings with them at tea-gardens and taverns. It had been agreed to spend, in this way, the evening of Sabbath the SOth of Januai-y 1814; and, at the appointed hour, Williams was at the place of rendezvous. But, his companions not being equally punctual, he was kept waiting, and that very much to his annoyance ; for not only was he thereby detained from his " pleasure," but Avas also greeted with unwelcome recogni- tions from many of his own and his mother's friends, who wore more appropriately hastening to the house of God. Among others, Airs Tonkin, the wife of his employer, came up, and, discovering his features by the light of a lamp, stopped and spoke with him, inquiring the rea- "son of his remaining there. This he did not endeavour to conceal, but frankly avowed, ex- pressing, at the sametime, his great vexation at the disappointment which his friends had oc- casioned him. The good woman seized the opportunity, and, after a few words of kind remonstrance, affectionately entreated him to accompany her that night to the Tabernacle. " A word spoken in season, how good is it!" He had no relish for either church or sermon; but, mortified by the non-appearance of his friends, and, in their absence, not having any ready excuse for refusing to comply with her re- quest, he did go. 'I'he pi-eacher for the evening was the Rev. Timothy East, of Birmingham, and the subject of discourse was the question — " What is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ?" This solemn inquiry was pressed home by the preacher with great point and energy; and the Word came to the mind of Williams " with power, and with the demonstration of the Spi- rit." The " brand was plucked from the bui-n- ing" — the missionary was formed. Speaking afterwards of that night from the same pulpit, Mr Williams himself said, " It is now twenty-four years ago since, as a strip- ling }'outh, a kind female friend invited me to come into this place of worship. I have the door in my view at this moment at which I entered, and I have all the chxumstances of that important ^ra in ray history vividly impressed upon my mind; and I have in my eye, at this instant, tho particular spot on NO SALVATION OUT OF CHRIST. which I took my seat. I have also a distinct im- pression of the powerful sermon th.iit was that even- ing preached by the excellent Mr East, now of Bir- mingham; and C-Jod was pleased, in his gracious providence, to influence my mind at that time so powerfully, that I forsook all my worldly compa- nions."' Nor was this the only eifect. " From that hour," he wrote suhsequently, " my blind eyes were opened, and I beheld wondrous things out of God's lav.'. 1 diligently attended the means of grace. I saw that beauty and reaUty in religion which I had never seen before. Jly love to it and delight in it increased; and I may add, in the language of the apostle, that I ' grew in grace, and in tlie knowledge of my Lord and Saviom- Jesus Christ.' " ,_-,^ IIow striking are the accidents of Providence ! But for tiie delay of his companions, Williams would have been off to the tavern. But for the passing of that Christian woman, or even but for the light which, as she passed, the lamp threw upon his features, he would not have gone to church; and Williams, not converted, so far as man can judge, many of the isles which now see a great light would, to this hour, have been sitting in darkness ! Soon after his conversion he determined on devoting himself to the work of preaching the Gospel to the heathen. The thought of doing so first struck him during an address from his p;uitor, the late Rev. ^latthow Wilks, at a ipiarterly meeting of the Tabernacle Auxiliary to the London Missionary Society. " At the time," he writes, " I took but little no- tice of it ; but afterwards, the desire was occasionally very strong for many months. My heart was fre- quently with the poor heathen. Finding this to be the case, I made it a subject of serious prayer to God tliat he would totally eradicate and banisli the desire, if it was not consistent with his holy mind and will; but that, if it was consistent, he would increase my knowledge with the desire." After still further considering the matter, and having consulted his pastor regarding it, he, in the month of July 1S16, sent in an application to the Directors of the London Society ; and, after having passed the usual examination, was unanimously received by them as a missionary. Loud cries for help were at that time coming from the South Seas and from Africa; and it was determined that Williams, and other eight missionaries who had been fixed upon for the various stations there, should go foith on as early a day as possible, although the Society wished that years, instead of months, had been allowed for the preparation of some of them. Accordingly, on the 30th of September, a public service was held at Surrey Chapel for their designation to the work ; and, after the usual questions to the missionaries had been put and answered, his biographer tells us: The Rev. George liurder and .John Angel James stood forward, and in the name of the Society, pre- sented a liible to each of the brethren, as a token of regard, the bond of their union, the basis of their efforts, and the ])le'as the youngest of the four set apart for the South Seas, and Robert Moffat the youngest of the five for Africa. NO SALVATION OUT OF CHRIST. BY KEV. ANDEEW THOMSO.N, A.B., EDINBURGH, t Acts x. 34, 35. The scene presented in the house of Cornelius, on the occasion on which these words were uttered, was one of very unusual interest. For the first time in the history of ages, the distinction between Jew and Gentile was practically merged — the wall of partition bad completely disappeared, and the Gentile soldier, from the far oil banks of the Tiber, was seen standing, side by side, with the son of Abraham, eager to receive, from the lips of the apostle, the good news of the common salva- tion. There was a world of meaning in that little group. Looking forth upon the novel and touching spectacle, and receiving from it the impressions it was fitted to conve}-, " Peter," we are told, " opened his mouth and said, Of a truth I perceive God is no re- specter of persons ; but in every nation, he that fcareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." This statement Las been much misunderstood, and not uufrequently perverted to the support of opinions directly opposed to the teaching of our Lord and bis apostles. It is to the setting forth of the true mean- ing of the passage that we devote the following re- marks : — " Here," it has been said, " it is evident that a man may be saved without a divine revelation. It matters little whether he be a Jew, or a IMohamniedan, or a Heathen, if he just be sincere in his worship of God, or of that object whicli he is pleased to regard as God, and leads a just and decent life, he is quite as sure of salvation as if he were a Christian. Moreover, it is quite evident, from Peter's words, that persons ' fear- ing God, and working righteousness,' may be found in every nation." Such is the comment which some have proposed upon these words of the good apostle — a cora- inent which we sometimes meet with deliberately stated and defended in books, and which we meet with far oftener still in t!ic current p.nd conversational theology of thousands who are ever ready to arm them- selves with e.vcuses for the want decision in their reli- gious principles. Surely it should make these persons pause a little, when they are reminded that such a view THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. of Peter's words makes him flatly contradict himself, not only iu the uniform tenor and spirit of his writings and addresses, but just in so many -words, as in that well-known declaration to the hostile rulers and elders of the Sanhedrim : " Neither is there salvation in any other : for there is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved ;" while tl;e further effect of such principles would be, to render the seriousness and earnestness of inspired men iu preaching the Gospel inconsistent and unaccountable ; to represent their self-denial in carrying the Gospel to remote countries as entluisiastic ; and to mark as al- most a work of supererogation any divine revelation at all. Let us see whether a calm and accurate examina- tion of Peter's words, as well as a consideration of the circumstances in which they were uttered, will not only bring out their entire harmony with the doctrine of the New Testament, but lay before us a large amount of valuable and wholesome instruction. It will serve greatly to elucidate this passage, if we fix with precision the signification we are to attach to the phrase " respecter of 2}erso7is." The meaning of this word will necessarily give its complexion to the whole exposition. Let it be noted, then, that the Greek word from which the phrase " respecter of per- sons " is formed, does not convey the same idea as an English reader would receive from the word "person." It does not properly refer to individuality at all, but to outward appearance, and is often rendered "face," " countenance," "presence." In this simple statement we have the key by which to unlock the passage. The meaning evidently is, God is not regulated or influ- enced in his judgment of men by any outward distinctions or differences. " Man looketh on the outward appear- ance, but God looketh on the heart." You would call that judge a respecter of persons, who favoured one of the parties brought before him, because he was a man of rank or wealth, or influence or power — because he was a native of the same countr}"-, or adhered to the same creed in politics. But, says the apostle, God does not act in this spirit. As a sovereign benefactor he may, indeed, confer his favour upon whom he will, but as a judge he receives or rejects according to charactei'. The standard is not a geographical, but a moral one. A service v/ill not be accepted, on the one hand, merely because the man performing it is a Jew ; or rejected, on the other, merely because ho is a G-entile. It is the same sentiment which is e.^pressed by Peter in his First Epistle : " If ye call on the Father, who, without re- spect of persons, judgeth every man's work." "Of a truth," says Peter, "I perceive this." The meaning is, I am strongly and infallibly led to this conclusion by all that I have now seen and heard. This is what I di;itinctly gather from the information of Cornelius, and from the scene before my eyes. The reference is to what Cornelius had told him, in verses 30, 31, " of the man that had stood before him in bright clothing, and said, Cornelius, thy prayer is heard, and thine alms are had in remembrance in the sight of God ;" and also of his own mission to Cornelius, in compliance with a direct heavenly intimation, to make known to him more fully the mind of God. Here, says Peter, is a Gentile, uncircumcised, and yet ac- pected ; and here am I, an apostle and a Jew, sent to be his teacher, to show unto him the way of God more perfectly, and to guide him forward into all the privi- leges and liberties of the Church of Christ. Of a truth, then, I perceive, that God is no respecter of persons. And who am I, that I should withstand God ? In perfect harmony with these explanations are the words of verse 35 : " But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." These two phrases are very comprehensive in their meaning, including in them the various duties which we owe to God and to our neighbour. The former — " he that feareth God" — describes the principle of piety; not slavish dread, but that confiding veneration, that filial reverence which springs from a just view of the holy and benignant, the infinitely awful, infinitely amiable, character of God, and which manifests itself ia corresponding and appropriate acts of worship and obe- dience. The latter expression — " He that worketh righteousness" — we understand to be a comprehensive description of all those duties of fidelity, justice, and kindness, which one man owes to another. And I con- ceive the direct reference here, also, is to the praters and alms of the devout centurion, which had come up as a memorial before God. The general meaning of this important passage is now completely before us. "We see what it does not teach — we see what it does teach. It does not say that God may not, and does not, distinguish one nation from an- other by external privileges. The Jews had actually been so distinguished for centuries from all the other nations of the earth. It does not say, that men might be found in heathen hands who, by the mere light of nature, had been led to the knowledge of the true God, and who performed works of piety and benevolence ac- ceptable to God. This was not the case now before the apostla at all ; for Cornelius was not a man left to the mere light of nature. He had the Old Testament — he knew and worshipped the true God, whom it re- vealed— he expected, and longed for the Messiah whom it promised. It does not say, that Cornelius was ac- cepted on account of his word's; the meaning seems rather to be, that his works were accepted as the fruit and evidence of his faith. It says none of these things, which some have attempted to extort from it. But it does say, that genuine piety and benevolence are ac- ceptable with God by .whomsoever performed; and that as no distinctions of rank, or wealth, or birth, or nation, will obtain the acceptance of hypocritical ser- vices; so neither will these distinctions, on the other hand, procure the rejection of those which are the ge- nuine fruits of the knowledge of God, and the faith of the truth. Show me a Cornelius, in short, and be his nation or descent what it may, his prayers and his alms will ascend as a memorial before God. As Peter's be- loved brother Paul has expressed it : " There is no dif- ference between the Jew and the Greek : for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him. For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." — Rom. x. 12, 13. Such we believe to be the correct view of this pas- sage, to which an examination of its terms, as well as an intelligent consideration of the circumstances which drew it forth, not to speak of a comparison of Scripture with Scripture, infallibly conducts us. But it fre- THE CLOSING DAYS OF THE APOSTLE JOHN. quently happens, that when a passage has often been dragged forth, as this has been, into the arena of con- troversy, and has been cbing to as the last forlorn re- fuge of certain forms of error, even wlien a faithful ex- position has disencumbered it of dangerous conclusions, and shown its perfect harmony with the entire system of inspired truth, it continues to be regarded rather as a trophy wrested from the enemy, than as a treasury of valuable practica,! lessons. We know of few passages, however, which, when rightly understood, are more profit;ible for reproof and correction than this. Thus, with what words of warning does it speak to the formal — to those, I mean, who are resting their hopes of salvation on the possession of valuable religious opportunities ! " I have been baptized," say they — '• I have been brought up in a religious famil}' — I am well informed in doctrines — I am a Church member !'' 'Well, but what have you made of all your inestimable religious advantages ? Have they brought you to the feet of Jesus as believing penitents, as obedient chil- dren, not fashioning 3-ourselves according to your for- mer lusts in your ignorance, but fearing God, and working righteousness.^ Remember, "God is no re- specter of persons." " Think not to say within your- selves, AVe have Abraham to our father; for I say unto you that God is able of these stones to raise up chil- dren unto Abraham." " Circumcision verily profiteth, ■if thou, keep the law." It speaks, also, to the unhclieving — to those who, from a perverted view of the character of Cornelius and of the words of Peter, imagine that their salvation is possible, independently of the Saviour. How strange that you should thus fatally mislead yourselves with a mere sound ! You refer us to the case of Cornelius, but lie was a believer in Christ. First, he expected and longed for his coming; and then lie cordially em- braced him when be knew that he had come. You cite Peter's words — " God is no respecter of persons ; " but you have now discovered that this does not declare that he will make no distinction between a believer and an unbeliever — between a Jew and a Gentile. He will not judge you according to your country, or your colour, or your kindred ; but he will judge you according to your character. And even supposing you may have proved to your own entire satisfaction the possibility of salvation being extended to those who have never heard of the Saviour, how does this appl}- to your case, who have heard of him ? You are convinced, you tell us, of the safety of those who have never had it in their power to accept of Christ; but how does this apply to your case, who have had the alternative presented to you, and have rejected him? You stand on a higher ground of privilege than the heathen, and, therefore, you are encircled by other and more awful responsibi- lities. Oh ! do you not come within the terrible sweep of these woids : " If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ,*lcthim be Anathema Maranatha.'" " How sliall we escape, if we neglect so great sal- vation.^" The sentiment of the apostle also presses upon the conscience of the merely ottticardh/ moral, who ima- gine the whole sum of human duty to be included in the rigid observance of the laws of honesty and truth. God demands this ; but he demands a great deal more. He requires that, iu the discharge of these duties, you should be impelled by a distinct and supreme regard to his authority; and, besides, that these should be accom- panied with such sentiments of enlightened devotion as a just view of his character dictates, and with such acts of worship as his law prescribes. You must fear God as well as work righteousness ; and even your works of righteousness must be the fruit and expression of your fear of God. What if you could boast that you had never robljed man, if the charge could yet be substan- tiated against you, that you had robbed God. And you have robbed him, if j-ou have withheld from him those sentiments of filial love, and those corresponding acts of holy service, which are his due. We urge upon you the rights of God. What would you think of children who should enter into a secret covenant to be faithful and kind to each other, while they shut out the father who had nourished and brought them up, and never named him, except to fortify themselves in the denial of his claims ? Or, conceive to yourself a company of brigands in some mountain- fastness, binding themselves, by a secret oath, to be honest and true to each other, while they cherished no feeling of loyalty, and yielded not the service of subjects, to that paternal government whose dominions they infested. Would their fidelity to each other make amends for their disaffection towards the sovereign, and commend them to his favourable re- gards.' Such is your mere morality, which is without holiness — and without holiness no man shall see the Lord. And how affectionately does the passage address the des'ponding I You say you wish you could assure your- self of welcome to mercy, and to all the blessings of salvation; and have you not this assurance in the text? Does it not declare that, iu this respect, Jew and Gen- tile, rich and poor, learned and unlearned, stand en the same platform of privilege and equality? Away with doubts and dreams. All are welcome who are willing. " In every nation he that feareth God, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." THE CLOSING DAYS OF THE APOSTLE JOHN. , After the death of St Paul, John chose Asia Jlinor as the scene of his labours. Here his attention was naturally directed to the farther extension of the cause of the Gospel. He went about establish- ing new Churches, ordaining pastors over them, and exercising his apostolic authority for the benefit of the brethren. Some of the Churches mentioned in the Apocalypse as requiring his superintending care, along with others not recorded, probably owed their origin to his missionary zciil. His energies, however, seem chiefly to have been directed towards confirming the communities already established iu the know- ledge and love of the truth. And his Gospel and Epistles remain an enduring monument of the wisdom of divine Providence, in directing to this sjihere of labour an individual whose mental conformation, aa well as the tenor of his Christian ex]ierience, rendered him peculiarly qualified for opposing the speculative and practical errors which had begun to manifeit themselves in the time of the Apostle I'aul, and the farther development of which he had clearly foretold, not so much by dialectic art, as by the earnest ex- pression of his heartfelt and deep-reaching intuitions of di\ine truth. Upon the rise of the persecution 10 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. under Domitian, this apostle was carried to Rome, and afterwards bauislied to Patmos, an island in the yEgean Sea, where tlie future destinies of the Church and of the world were disclosed to him in those visions whose undefined and mysterious foreshadowings con- tinue to exercise the faith and encourage the hopes of believers in the pages of the Apocalyiise. Upon the death of Uomitian, he obtained, witli other exiles, the remission of his sentence of banishment; and the closing years of his life were spent at Ephesus, as the central point of his apostolical ministrations. One or two anecdotes have been recorded by the fathers of the Church, which, as they correspond with the qualities exhibited by him, as made known to us in Sacred History, may be received as probable, thou^dl the external evidence is not conclusive. During one of his missionary joiu-neys, he was struck with the appearance of a young man whom he observed in an assembly of the brethren, and warmly recommended him to the care of the newly-ordained minister. Upon a subsequent visit, when inquiring of the pastor respecting his interesting charge, he learned that, after his baptism, the youth had been betrayed into vicious habits by idle companions ; and that, throwing aside ail restraint, he had proceeded to every extremity of guilt, and had now taken up his abode on a neighbouring mountain, where_ he was infesting the country as a captain of banditti. Tlie apostle, in the ardour of his love, proceeded at once, unarmed, towards the haunt of the outlaws, and being soon laid hold of by one of the band, he de- manded to be brought to his leader. When the young robber l^eheld the holy man approaching, he turned away in shame, to avoid his presence. But tlie apostle followed after him, and refused to leave him till, by his prayers, and tears, and expostulations, he brought him back to the true fold. Upon another occasion, in his zeal against error, he manifested perhaps some remains of the natural tem- perament which, at an earlier period, had procured for him and his brother the appellation of the " Sons of Thunder;" when, in proceeding to bathe, he per- ceived the heretic Cerinthus, and turnmg hastily away, exclaimed, " Let us flee from this place, lest the bath should fall while this enemy of the truth is within it." The prevailing sentiment, however, of his declining years was love ; and we are told by St Jerome, that when he was too much oppressed with infirmity to permit him to exercise his public ministry any longer, he was accustomed to be carried into the church, and after stretchmg forth his feeble arms and crying. Little children, love one another, to retire from the assembly. So deeply was he imbued with the seraphic love of the bosom on which he leaned, that it remained vm- inipaired amidst the decays of nature and the eclipse of intellect. The precise year of his death is not known ; but it took place during the peaceful interval in which Trajan pursued the mild policy of his immediate pre- decessor, at a date which is usually considered as corresponding ynih. the end of the second century. — Dr Wdsh''s Church History. 2n^c pitssiortarg jFttltr. HUMAN LIFE. Man's uncertain life Is like a rain-drop hanging on the bough, Amongst ten thousand of its sparkling kindred, The remnants of some passing thunder-shower, Which have their moments, dropping one by one, And which shall soonest lose its perilous hold We cannot guess. JOANN.1 Baillie. HEATHEN DARKNESS. We extract the following interesting details from a work lately published, under the title of " Protestant Missions in Bengal Illustrated;" by the Rev. Mr Weitbrecht of the Church Missionary Society. I. HINDU IDOLS. The idols worshipped consist of various kinds ; but the Brahmans have di^dded them into two classes, viz., such as are made to last, which they set up iu the temples ; and others intended only for particular festival celebrations. The first consist of some solid material, as stone, copper, silver, gold ; those belonging to the second class are made of wood, straw, and clay. Idols of stone and metal are sold in the larger towns in the bazaar. I have been informed, that some merchants of Birmingham have made a good speculation lately, in manufacturing idols of Ijrass for the Indian market, for which they have found a ready sale. It was mentioned to me as a fact, last year, that two missionaries were embarking for Cal- cutta on board the same ship which carried several chests filled with idols. Idols of wood and clay are manufactured in every Hindu village. When the festival is over, they are broken up, or thrown into the water, in the eyes of the natives, the fabrication of idols is as honourable a handicraft as that of a carpenter, or more so. The maker fastens two pieces of bamboo into a board; he ihen ties straw round them, to give them a shape, and prepares his finer materials by kneading clay, mixed with manure and chaif, together ; with which the straw figure is covered. It costs him no small trouble before the eyes, and other delicate parts, are finished. On the whole, these idol makers may be said to have brought their business to a considerable degree of perfection. A nicely-vsTOught idol will cost about fifteen or twenty shillings, including paint, and other materials. On the morning of the idol fes- tival, the priest comes to undertake the consecration of it. He touches the forehead, the eyes, breast, and other parts, pronouncing each time the words, " May the spirit of Shiva, or Durga, descend, and take pos- session of this image." By virtue of these citations, or muntrus, the spirit is received; and of this the Hindu is as certain as of his own existence. Hence- forth it is considered as a dwelling of the god. Many Brahmans go even further, in assertmg a kmd of tran- substantiation, viz., that the materials of straw, mud, or stone, are changed into the substance of the god. Such a jiower does the Brahman possess, accordmg to the often-repeated prayer of the Shasters. " The world is under the power of the gods ; the gods are under the power of the muntrus ; and the muntrus are imder the power of the Brahmans; couseqiientl}'. theij are the principal gods ! " If you express your surprise to a Hindu as to how a lump of straw and clay can become a god, he an- swers, " Why should this be impossible ? God can do everything." But if a dog, or a woman, or an European should touch the idol, the god will make his escape from it. If it be of clay, it must be thrown away ; but if it be of solid material, the Brahman un- dertakes the consecration of it a second time. On passing through a village, I once had the imprudence to touch the stone image of Shiva with my stick, and some persons saw it indistinctly from a distance. The following day, a number of villagers came to the mis- sion premises, when their chief speaker said: " The god OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD. 11 felt very indignant at your touch yesterday, and was ready to make his escape ;" they therefore requested me candidly to tell them if I had touched him or not. Had I answered in the affirmative, the Brahnians would forthwith have proceeded to a second conse- cration, whicli is always accompanied with a sump- tuous dinner; and I should have had to pay the hill of fare. My reply was: " I shall not tell yoti; if the stone be a god, my touching him with a stick can have done him-no harm; and if he be not, you de- ceive yourselves ; accordingly, the sooner you throw him away the better for you, and then come and ■worship the true God with me." II. HINDU IDOL TEMPLES. The idol temples are, generally speaking, not such splendid edifices as our churches. Shiva's mundir, or temple, is a regular square building, surmounted by a dome or arched roof. The room in which the idol is placed, is not generally more than ten or twelve feet square. In villages, they are usually in the centre, or near the market-place, and they are surrounded by a feiv mango or tamarind trees, under the shade of which the natives sit down to smoke their hookahs, and converse on the events of the day. In large towns, and particularly in Benares, there are splendid raas- terpieces of architecture ; I have particularly admired the sculptures in stone, covering the walls, most taste- fully and elaborately executed ; many of them repre- senting historical pieces in their mythology. Nothing is so meritorious as the building of such a temple ; all the blessings of Heaven are promised for it, especially when it is raised on the banks of the Ganges, or at Benares. In the latter city, there are nine hinidred Shiva temples. Wealthy rajahs have endowed some of them in a munificent manner. Juggernath's tem- ple, in Orissa, is said to possess an income of ten thousand pounds annually. III. HINDU IDOL ■WORSHIP. The ceremony of worship in the temple is this : — - At the time of sunrise, the officiating priest opens the door, and prostrates himself before the idol; he then takes Ganges water to wash the image; after this it is rubbed with ghee, or clarified butter; and ■when this ceremony of cleansing is performed, he re- peats his muntrus, or forms of prayer, in a hurried, careless, undevout manner; flowers are streivn, and offerings of sweetmeats, fruits, and boiled rice, are placed before him, and the Brahman begs the idol to eat, and enjoy himself. Meanwhile, some >Sudras are seen approaching ; some prostrate themselves — others merely touch their foreheads in token of reverence, and walk away. When this senseless munmiery is over, the priest puts the eatables together, shuts the door, and eats them for his breakfast. Being divine himself, he says his eating the offering is just the same as if the idol had enjoyed it ; probably he thinks it passes all into one pantheistical stomach. 80 careful is he for the rest and comfort of his god, that he spreads a net over him during the hot season, lest he be bitten by musquitoes; in the cold weather, likewise, he dresses him with a shawl, to pro- tect him from the inclemency of the season. Some- times, however, it happens that rats eat holes into he idols of clay and straw, and make nests in them. The idols in honour of Vishnu are laid down to sleep in the day, if the image be not too large— a floor compliment to a god, that he needs rest ! If a priest want to be orthodox, he must spend at least four hours a-day in his religious ceremonies; but they are not generally very particular on this point, and get through them as fiist as they can. Their conduct sometimes reminded me of the monks whom Luther saw in the Church of St Peter at Rome. While engaged in their temple-service, they laugh, and joke, and gaze at every object X'assing in the street. ^nccUote. " OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD." The founder of Philadelphia, William Penn, was completely armed with the spirit of the principle — " Overcome evil with good." When he visited Ame- rica, he came without cannon or sword, and ivith a determination to meet the Indians with truth and kindness. He bought their land, and paid them; he made a treaty with them, and observed it; and lie always treated them as men. As a specimen of the manner in which he met the Indians, the following instance is very striking : — There were some fertile and excellent lands, which, in 1G9H, Penn ascertained were excluded from his first purchase ; and as he was very desirous of obtaining them, he made the propo- sal to the Indians that he would buy those lands, if they were willing. They returned for answer, that they had no desu'e to sell the spot where their fathers were deposited ; but to " please their father Onas," as they named Penn, they said that he should have some of the lands. This being decided, they concluded the bargain, that Penn might have as much land as a young man could travel round in one day, " ' be- ginning at the great river Cosquanco,' now Kensing- ton, ' and euchng at the great river Kallapingo,' now Bristol ; " and as an equivalent, they were to receive a certain amount of English goods. Though this I>lan of measuring the land was of their own selection, yet they were greatly dissatisfied with it, after it had been tried ; " for the young Knglishman chosen to walk off the tract of land, walked so fast and far, as to greatly astonish and mortify them. The governor observed this dissatisfaction, and asked the cause. ' The walker cheated us,' said the Indians. ' Ah ! how can it be 'i ' said Penn, ' did you not choose yourselves to have the land measured in this way ? ' ' True,' replied the Indians, ' but white brother make a big Walk.' Some of Penn's commissioners, waxing warm, said the bargain was a fair one, and insisted that the Indians ought to abide by it ; and if not, should be compelled to it. ' Compelled,' exclaimed Penn, ' how- can you compel them, without bloodshed ? Don"t you see this looks to murder ? ' Then turning with a be- nignant smile to the Indians, he said : ' Well, brothers, if you have given us too much land for the goods first agreed on, hownmch more will satisfy you? ' This jiro- posal gratfied them; and they mentioned the quantity of cloth and number of fish-hooks with which they would be satisfied. These were cheerfully given ; and the Indians, shaking hands with Penn, went away smilmg. After they were gone, tlic governor, look- ing round on his friends, exclaimed, ' O how sweet and cheap a thing is charity ! Some of you spoke just now, of compelling these poor creatures to stick to their bargain^that is, in ]>Iain I'.nglish, to fight and kill them, and all about a little jnece of land.' " For this kind condJct, manifested in all his actions to the Indians, he was nobly rewarded. 'J'he untamed savage of the forest became the M-arm friend of the white stranger; towards Penn and his followers, they buried the war-hatchet, and ever evinced the strongest respect for them. And when the colony of Pennsyl- vania was pressed for provisions, and none could be obtained from other settlements— and which scarcity arose from the increasing number of inhabitants not having time to raise the necessary food — the Indians cheerfully came forward, and assisted the colony by the fruits of their laboui's in hunting. ]2 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Saili) BvcaU. rRIDAY. " Lovest thou me ?"— John xxi. IG. 'Tis a point I long to know. Oft it causes anxious thought — Do I love the Lonl, or no ? Am I his. or am I not ? Lord, decide the doubtful case. Thou wlio .^l t tliy people's sun; Shine upon tliv work of grace, If it be indeed begun. Let me love thee more and more. If I love at all, I pray; If I have not loved before. Help me to begin to-day. They that love Christ, love to thinl of him, love to liear of him, love to read of him — love to speak of Irijii, for him, to him. They love his presence, hia ycike,'h.\s nawe. His -.vill is their wU— his dishonour is their affliction— his cause is their care— his people are their companions,— his day is their delight,— his Word is their guide,— his glory is their end. They had rather ten thousand times suffer for Christ, than that ha should suffer by ihem.— Mason. SATURDAY. " Grow in grace."— 2 Pet. iii. 13. How many vears hast thou, my heart. Acted the barren lig tree's part- Leafy, and fresh, and fair. Enjoying heavenly dews of grace, And'sunnv smiles from God's own face- But where the fruit ':■ ah ! where ? Learn, O mv soul, what God demands Is not a faith like barren sands. But fruit of heavenly hue; 1 By this we prove that Christ we know. If in his holy steps we go- Faith works by love, if true. It is some hope of goodness not to grow worse ; it is part of badness not to grow better. I will take heed of quenching the spark, and strive to kindle a fire. If I have the goodness I should, it is not too much — why should I make it less? If I keep the goodness I have, it is not enough, — why do I not seek to make it more ? He never was so good as he should be, that doth not strive to be better than he is; he never wll be better than he is, that ^doth bear to be worse than he was. — Warvnch. SABBATH. " Kememberthe Sabbath-day, to keep it holy." — EXOD. XX. 18. May I throughout this day of thine Be in thy Spirit, Lord ; Spirit of humble fear divine, That trembles at thy Word ; Spirit of faith, my heart to raise, And fix on things above ; Spirit of sacrifice and praise, Of holiness and love. When a believer lays aside his pen or loom, brushes aside his worldly cares, leaving them behind him with his week-day clothes, and comes up to the house of God, it is like the morning of the resurrection — the day when we shall come out of great tribulation into the presence of God and the Lamb. When he sits under the preached Word, and hears the voice of the shepherd leading and feeding his soul, it reminds him of the day when the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall feed him and lead him to living fountains of waters. When he joLos in the psalm of praise, it reminds him of the day when his hands shall strike the harp of God — " Where congregations ne'er break up. And Sabbaths have no end." When he retires, and meets with God in secret in his closet, or, like Isaac, in some favourite spot near his dwelling, it reminds him of the day when " he shall be a pillar in the house of our God, and go no more out." — M''Clie>jne. MONDAY. " Ask, and it shall be given you." — Matt. vii. 7. Come, my soul, thy suit prepare, Jesus lives to answer prayer; He himself has bid you pray, Therefore will not say you Nay. Our prayers and God"s mercies are like two buckets in a well: while the one ascends, the other descends; so, wlule our prayers ascend to God in heaven, his blessings and mercies descend to us upon the earth. — Hopkins. TUESDAY. " Lord, teach us to pray." — Luke xi. 1. Lord, teach us how to pray aright, With reverence and with lear ; Though dust and ashes in thy sight, We may — we must draw near. We perish if we cease from prayer; Ohl grant us power to pray; And when to meet thee we prepare. Lord, meet us by the way. When God pours out his Spirit upon man, then will man pour out his heart before God. — Mason. ■WED.NESDAY. " Watch thou in all things."— 2 Tim. iv. 5. The praying Spirit breathe. The watching power impart ; From all entanglements beneath Call off my giovelling heart. Suffered no more to rove O'er all the earth abroad, Arrest the prisoner of thy love, And shut me up in God. The Saviour joined watching to prayer ; and what he has joined together let no man put asunder. In vain I invoke God if I am careless ; and expose my- self needlessly in dangerous places and company ; and leave without a sentinel my senses, and appetites, and passions; and keep not my heart with all diligence; and use not all the means of preservation which are placed within my reach. Prayer vrithout watching is hypocrisy; and watching \rithout prayer is pre- sumption.—Vcfj/. THURSDAY. " Cleanse thou me from secret faiilts." — Ps. xix. 12. Dear Lord ! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains. And mourns, with much and frequent smart, The evil it contains. • There fiery seeds of anger lurk, Which often hurt my frame. And wait but for the tempter's work To fan them into fiame. Oh ! cleanse me in a Saviour's blood, Transform me by thy power. And make m.e thy beloved abode, And let me rove no more. Is there, in the best, a strong pronc-ncss to sin ? What cause have we, then, to long and breathe after heaven ! for not till then shall we be free from it. Indwelling sin hath taken a lease of our souls, and holds them by our own lives ; it v.ill be in us to the last gasp, and as the heart is the last that dies, so also is that corruption that lodgeth in it. But yet die it must, and die it shall; and this is the comfort of a child of God, that though he brought sin vni\\ him into the world, yet he shall not can-y it with him out of the world. As death came in by sin, so also shall sin itself be destroyed by death. — Hopkins. Edinburgh: Printed and Published by John Johnstone, Hunter Square. London: K. Groombkidge ^c Sons. Glasgow : J. K. M'Nair & Co. ; and to be had by order ; of all Booksellers throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 13 ON THE EQUITY AND BENIGNITY OF THE DIVINE LAW. BY JOHN BROWN, D.D., EDINBURGH. The object of the following remarks is to jirove and illustrate the general j)rinciplc, that tlio law of Cotl, which opposes man's natural inclina- tions, and whicli secures that he shall he jni- nlshed for following these inclinations, is a most righteous and benignant appointment. " The law is not sin." There is nothing wrong with the law. It is a faultless institution — " It is holy," — perfect — everything that it ought to be — "just and good." A law that is inconsistent with truth and right, that infringes the rights of any being, is not a holy law — it is an unjust law. A law the native tendency of wliicli, is not. to prevent or remove, but to create and increase misery, is not a holy law — it is a mischievous law; but a law which unites in it the cliaractcr ex rigii- teousncss and benignity, which is at once "just and good" — that is a " holy" or faultless law. That this is the character of the DivijfE law, is the proposition which I mean to demonstrate; and, in doing so. I do not at all feel as if I were undertaking an unnecessary work — wasting my labour, spending my strength for nought, in proving v.-hat no one denies; for though few will make the denial in so many v/ords, the great body of mankind — all men, indeed, until they are taught of the Spirit — cherish doubts of the righteousness and benignity of the divine law; and, under the shelter of those doubts, try to shield themselves from the conviction that they arc nnprovolicd and utterly inexcusable offenders in eveiy instance in which they have violated that law, that every sin is equally foolish and wicked, and that it possesses both these qualities in a degree to wdiich we can set no limits. Till these " refuges of lies" are entirely swept away — till the sinners mouth is entirely stopped, and he is constrained to bring in him- self guilty before God — till he is made to see that, in the quarrel between him and God, he has been luiilbrmly and entirely in the wrong, and God uniformly and entire!}- in the right, lie never will, he never can, be made to per- ceive the value and excellence of the Christian Ealvation, or gladly and gratefully to receive what is freely given him of God, but which can never be obtained in any other way — jjardon, peace, holiness, hope — " the salvation which ia .in Christ with eternal glory." The law is a revelation of the will of God, for the regulation of man as an intelligent and active being, with this proviso, that if man refuse to regulate himself by this revelation, lie exposes himself to such punishment as is adequate to the oflenco in the estimation of the Lawgiver. The law thus defined may be viewed in its PuixcirLES, in its precepts, and in its SAxoTiox; and it is my object to show, that in all these, however rebel man may at- tempt to persuade himself to the contrary, the lav/ is " holy," faultless, excellent, being both " JUST and good." I. First, then, the principles of the law are just and good. The principles of the divine hiw are three; frst. That the will of God should be man's rule ; secondly. That if man violate this rule, hq should be punished ; and, thirdly. That the ])unishment should be such as ajipears to the Lawgiver adequate to the offence. Now, all these princij^les are just and good. Is it not just and right, that the will of the Being who is infinite iu knowledge, in wisdom, and in moral excellence, should be the governing rule of all intelligent beings, especially as he is the Crea- tor and they the creatures, entirely dei)endent on him for all they are and all they have ? Is it not right, so far as he is concerned ? Does ho not deserve this honour ? And is it not right in reference to tiie^i ? What right of their's does it invade ? How can they have a right to govern themselves apart from, or in opposition to, his will ? And is it not obviously as good as right ? \Vliat can so directly tend to, what can so completely secure, the greatest pos- sible happiness, as the execution of the will of Him whose nature as well as whose name is love ? Just in the degree in which any will is concerned in the production of events, unregu- lated by, unsnbjected to his will, must there be happiness prevented or misery induced. Then, is it not right that the violation of the righteous, benignant will of God, should be punished? Would it not shock all our ideas of right, that he who regards, and he who dis- i-egards the law and the Lawgiver, should stand on the same level ? The justice of this prin- ciple is universally practically acknowledged; for all human laws are sanctioned by penalties. And is not this good as well as right ? Is not the threatened punishment fitted to deter all from violating the laM-? — and is not the inflicted punishment fitted to furnish those who have not offended with an additional motive to keep the law, the breaking of which, they see, leads to such jiainful consequences ? And, then, as to the third princijde. Is it not right that the punishment should be ap- pointed b}' God ? He is the k-upremo Sovereign, and, properly, too, a disinterested Person. His essential happiness and glory are not, cannot be, affected by the sin of man. He is infinite in wisdom, and knows exactly what is the de- gree and form of pimishment which will best serve the great end in view — the exhibition of his own moral excellence in the order and hap- piness of intelligent being; and his essential ilarch-i, 1815. 14 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. benignity secures that no unnecessary suffering shall be produced. It is obviously good, too, as well as right, that this prerogative of sovereignty should belong to, and be exercised by, God. In what hands in the universe could such a power be safe but in liis, whose itifinite power is not only regulated by infinite wisdom, but by infinite righteousness; and in all its operations infiuenced by infinite benignity ? That the fundamental principles of the divine law are just and good, is so evi- dent, that it may seem to require an apology to have made even these few observations, for the purpose less of demonstrating the fact, than of showing that it needs no demonstration. II. I o'o on to remark, in the second place, that the precepts of the law are just and good. Now, Avhat are the pi-ecepts of the divine law ? They are very numerous, for the law is very broad, and reaches to every part of man's na- ture— regulating his opinions, his dispositions, his actions, in all the variety of relation and circumstances in v.'hich he can be placed. But numerous as are its requisitions, we have a complete summary of them in the following very comprehensive words : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and soul, and strength, and mind. This is the first and great commandment; and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Now, arenot both these commandments right ? Would there not be an obvious violation of right if they were otherwise than they are? Is it not right to love, to love supremely, Him who is supremely lovely, who is infinitely kind — to fear supremely Him who is supremely venerable, possessed, as He is, of infinite power, wisdom, and righteousness — to trust entirely Him who is supremely trustworthy 1 And could He, with- out injustice to himself, have demanded less of us ? Would it not have been incongruous and monstrous for Ilim to have enjoined less than the love of the whole heart, and soul, and strength, and mind 2 And as to the second gi-eat commandment, which is like the first, is it not right also? Does not its rectitude stand out in strong relief, when we contemplate it in the form our great Master exhibited it : " What- soever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them ?" Would the law have been right if it had required anything else, anything less, than this ? There seems no gainsaying these statements. Yet there are two things in reference to the prece])tive part of the divine law, that many- are disposed to think scarcely consistent with what is right — what is reasonable in the whole circumstances of the case. The first is, the demand of absolute perfection in the perfor- mance of every duty; the other, the extending the preceptive part of tlic law to the inward principle, as well as to the external actions. But, with regard to the first, who does not sec that for a law to permit imperfection, is to destroy itself 2 In the degree in which there is imperfection in obedience, there is a non-fulfil- ling of the law — that is, there is disobedience ; and M'hat kind of a law would that be which makes provision for being satisfied with disobe- dience? And as to the second, though it is not right for human laws to interfere with internal principles, for two reasons— that they cannot afford the means of obedience, and they cannot certainly discover disobedience, so as to punish it — yet, for the same reasons substantially, viz., that God can furnish the means of guiding the internal principles, and can discover when these means are honestly applied, it is right that the divine law should regidate conviction and dis- positions, as well as actions. Indeed, it would not be right were not God, who is a Spirit, re- quiring woi'ship in spirit and in truth. For HiJi to be satisfied with mere external services would be obviously incongruity. That the precejitive part of the law of God is good, calculated to produce happiness, may be very easily made plain to the mind of every reflecting person. Yes, we may truly say, with regard to all the ordinances and command- ments of the divine law : " The Lord hath commanded us to do all these statutes for our good always." To love, fear, and trust God in the manner the law requires, lays a doej) foun- dation for true, permanent happiness. Without obeying these commands, man cannot be happy. In the degree in which he obeys them he is happy, and he makes others happy. Is it not evident, that to pay a strict regard to the laws of truth, justice, and benevolence, is the shortest road to happiness ? Is not by far the greater part of the misery of man the direct effect of violating God's law ? Are not all the com- manded affections pleasurable ? Are not all the forbidden, malignant passions, painful ? Is not a benevolent man generally a happ[)y man? Is not a malignant man always a miserable one ? Would the world have been happier had God permitted or enjoined gluttony arid drunken- ness, instead of temperance; and if, instead of checking natural appetite, had given it loose reins? Fleshly lusts war against the soul, and the body too, and tlie abstinence from them which the law of God requires, is necessary for the comfort of the life that now is, as well as to the happiness of that which is to come. A man entirely conformed to the law of God, would be as happy as it is possible to be out of heaven. And what a delightful scene would society pre- sent, if the laws of piety, truth, justice, and benevolence, were universally practised ! " Vio- lence would no more be heard in our land, wasting nor destruction within our borders." There would be universal, iDormanent peace among nations, and mankind would attain to a height of civilization, a measure of hapjnness, which the most sanguine philosophical philan- thropist has never dared to anticipate. III. It only remains, now, that I endeavour shortly to show, thirdly, that the sanctions of the law of God are just and good. The divine law is not a mere injunction ot" duty; it in- cludes ill it a provision that, if this injunction be neglected or disobeyed, the transgressor shall be visited with adequate punishment. This is ordinarily termed the penal sanction of the law. Yv'e have already seen, in our re- marks on the first department of our subject, that it is just and right that the divine law should be thus sanctioned. Jly object at pre- sent is to show that the sanction adopted is a just and good one. The sanction of the law is stated in such passages of Scrijjture as these : " The soul that sinneth shall die;" — " The wages of sin is death;" — " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the book of the law, to do them." And they who are finally con- demned for disobedience, are doomed to the " evei'lasting fire prepared for the devil and Lis angels;" and are said to "go away into everlasting punishment." Every sinner ex- poses himself to the displeasure of God, to be manifested in the manner which seems fit to bis wisdom and justice ; and, unless pardon is obtained " through the redemption that is in Christ Jesns," this displeasure will continue to be manifested during the whole eternity of the transgressor's being. Doubts have often been thrown out as to the justice and goodness of this arrangement; and, on this ground, some have been rash enough to call in (piestion, and even to deny, a doc- trine very clearly stated in Holy Writ — the etei'iiity of future punishment. "With what justice such doubts are cherished will appear from the following remarks : — Few will deny that sin deserves jmnishment; and as to the degree in which sin is to be punished, assuredly the sinner is not the most qualified judge. Sin — any sin, every sin — includes in it an amount of moral evil, and, therefore, of crimi- nal desert, which no human mind can fully estimate. There is in it imnatural conduct towards a father — ingratitude towards a bene- factor— rebellious conduct towards a sovereign ; and all these heightened inconceivably by the infinite excellence and the innumerable and in- appreciable benefits of Him who wears all these characters. He who reflects on this will be cautious how he asserts that sin cannot deserve imending punishment. It is also worthy of his consideration, how far suffering can remove blameworthiness; and he would do well to ask himself if the statement does not seem agreeable to right and reason, that while just desert of punishment remains, there can be no injustice in inflicting the de- served punishment? When a sinner can stand up before the Eternal Judge and say, I have suffered so much and so long, that I am be- come perfectly innocent, he may, on the ground of justice, plead that his sufferings shoidd ter- minate ; but not till then.* IJesides, there is reason to believe that the finally condemned • Smalley. will continue for ever to sin ; and, on that ground, it must be just that they should for ever continue to suft'er. The (joodness of the ponal sanction of the divine law may seem less suscej)tible of satis- factory proof than its justice. Yet we believe it to be cajiable of being shown, beyond the possibility of rational contradiction, that this awful appointment is not only consistent with, but illustrative of, the divine benignity; not, certainly, of his permanent benignant regards to those who have abused so much goodness, and drawn from the reluctant hand of Jehovah the thunderbolts of his wrath— all proofs of love to them (and they were neither few nor small) are past — but of his benignant regards to the great body of intelligent moral beings in the universe. In punishing irreclaimable offenders, a wise and benevolent government discovers its benignant regards to its subjects generally ; not to punish such offenders ade- (piately would, in a variety of ways, be in- justice and unkindness to their fellow-subjects. The manifestation of the tine character of the Supreme Legislator and Judge of all worlds, is the ultimate end of the universe ; and it is the grand means, too, of securing the order, and holiness, and happiness, of the intelligent part of it. This manifestation is made by appro- priate works. By works indicative of design, he shows his wisdom ; by deeds of power, he shows his omnipotence ; by wonderful M'orks of kindness, he shows his benignity; by awful judg- ments on the workers of iniquity, he manifests his holiness and righteousness. All these works are intended, and fitted to produce in the minds of intelligent beings, such impressions of the all-perfect character of Jehovah, as go to form, in rational beings, that character which is necessary to their permanent happi- ness. That man gives clearer evidence of arro- gance than of penetration, who, after reflecting on these statements, denies that the penal sanc- tion of the law is not only consistent with, but illustrative of, benignity as well as righteous- ness. The effect which such a manifestation of the holiness and righteousness of God is calcu- lated to produce on holy intelligences, is strik- ingly illustrated in the Apocalyi)se, where the smoke from the ruins of the mystical Babylon, rising up for ever and ever, is represented as giving nev/ encj-gy to " that imdisturbed song of pure concert, aye sung before the sa})phire- coloured throne, to Him who sits thereon, with saintly shout and solemn jubilee."* "And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying. Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God: for true and righteous are his judgments : for he hath judged the great whore, which did corrupt the earth with her fornica- tion, and hath avenged the blood of his ser- vants at her hand. And again they said. Alleluia. And her smoke rose up for ever and • Milton. 16 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ever. And the four and twenty elders and the four beasts foil down and worshipped God tliat sat on the throne, saying, Anion ; Alleluia. And a voice came out of the throne, saying, Praise our God, all ye liis servants, and ye that fear him, botli small and great. And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty Uuinderirigs, saying. Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth." — Rev. xix. 1-G. " WATCHMAN, WHAT OF THE NIGHT ?" Say, Watchman, what of the night ? Do the dews of the morning fall ■' Have the orient skies a border of light, Like the fringe of a funeral pall ^ " The night is fast waning on high. And soon shall the darkness flee, And t!ie morn shall spread o'er the blushing shy. And bright shall its glories be." But, Watchman, what of the night, When sorroiv and pain are mine, And the pleasures of life, so sweet and bright. No longer around me sliine ? " That night of sorrow thj' soul May surely prepare to meet. But away shall the clouds of thy heaviness roll. And the morning of joy be sweet." But, Watchman, what of the night. When the arrow of death is sped, And the gi'aye,which no glimmering star can light, Shall be my sleeping bed ? " That night is near — and the cheerless tomb Shall keep thy body in store, Till the morn of eternity rise on the gloom, And night — shall be no more ! " Anox. THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS, MISSIONARY TO THE SOUTH SEAS. PART n. — THE MISSIONARY. On the 16th of November, ?ilr Williams set sail for Tahiti, accompanied by jNIrs Williams, formerly Miss Mary Chauncr, and to whom he had been marrieil about a fortnight before. Having been detained for some mouths at Syd- ney, owing to the war.t of a vessel, he did not reach his destination till November 17, 1817 — • exactly a year from the time of his embarkation. They landed on the Monday ; and on the Wednes- day following embraced the opportunity of attending the native service in the chapel. " Here," vmtes Mr Williams, " my eyes beheld 700 or 800 people, who, not live years ago, were worshipping idols, and wallowing in the most dreadful wickedness, now praying to and praising our Lord and God. Surely, thought I, the work is done — there is no need of us." But he had not been long in the island before he learned that there was yet much to be done ; that, as everywhere else, so in Tahiti, many were imdisguisedly opposed to Christ, and many more, having a name to live, were, notwithstand- ing, dead. The discovery of this, however, in- stead of depressing him, set him all the more earnestly to work, during the period of his resi- dence among them, which was not a long one, he being soon called to another and more des- titute scene of labour. Sometime bcfoi'e his arrival, a number of the chiefs of the Society Islands had come over to assist Pomai-e in I'egaiuing the sovereignty of Tahiti; and these having heard and received the Gospel, now preferred remaining there, to going back to even the sovereignty of their own lands, without the prospect of carrying along with them the religious ordinances tliey so much loved. The missionaries were so struck with the self- denial and evident sincerity of this determina- tion, that, taking it as a token for good, they resolved on instituting a mission to the islands from whicli these chiefs came ; and, accordingly, three of tliem — IMessrs Williams, Ellis, and Ors- mond — accompanied by the chiefs and an inter- preter, sailed, on the ISth of June 1818, for Hualiine,the most windward of the group, which they readied two days after. They Avere i-e- ceived by the inhabitants with great joy ; and the news of their airival having i-apidly spread through the group, visitoi's poured in trom all quarters, many of them earnest in their solici- tations that some of " the white men" should return Avith them, and teach them the gospel. Among the rest was Tamatoa, King of liaiatea, the largest and most intluential of the Society Islands. Two years before, Tamatoa had heard the Gospel from a missionary who had been driven by stress of weather to take refuge in the island; and so much was he then impressed, that not only did he abandon many of his old superstitious practices, but, along v.-ith a few others who Avere favourable to Christianity, erected a sanctuaiy, in which, on Sabbaths, they regularly met, for the purpose of mutual in- struction and improvement. This being known to the missionaries, it was, after consultation, determined that Messrs Williams and Threl- keld should go to Raiatea, which they did in September, to the great joy of Tamatoa and his subjects. The labours of Williams at Raiatea were abundant, and persevering, and blessed. " Tlie work of the Lord prospered in his hands." He preached the Word — " in season and out of sea- son"— instituted schools for adults and for chil- dren, and erected a church ; and not only so, but, equally attentive to their temi)oral inte- rests, induced them to build houses — which they did so rapidly, that, in less tlian a year, they had erected a range extending nearly two mil{>s along the sea-beach; persuaded them to form a new code of laws, founded on Christian priii- ciples; established trial by jury; and taught them agriculture and many of the useful arts. But, wonderful as the results were, Wil- liams was not satisfied. He longed for a wider sphere of action. Raiatea, he thought, Avas but an island, not very large, and the inhabitants Avere comparatively few; why should he remain BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 17 and spend his lifetime there, while there were otlier fields, of wider extent and immensely lai'ger ])opiilation, to wliich he niiyht go, and where he might prove moi'e useful i After two years' travelling about in these leeward islands (he wrote home to the Directors), I am con- : cerneJ to say that I can ftnd not more, or very few j more, than about four tliousand inhabitants. 1 know that one soul is of infinite value. But how docs the mercliunt act who rocs in search of goodly pearls ? yupposins: tliat he knows where there is one pear], I which would pay him for the trouble of , searching j and procuring it, and at the sametime of another I siiot, wiicrc there were thousands of equal value, to ivhich ])lace would he direct his way ? Of course to th'i latter. Let us not, then, act a more inconsiderate p.art than those who seek after earthly riches. The Directors, however, refusing to sanction his ronioval, he remained ; and the sequel, as Williams himself soon saw and acknowledged, proved them to have been in the riglit. Scarcely a year from this time had elapsed, when, seeing the way which Providence was about to open up before him, lie wrote home : " We have now no desire to leave; and, as our station is as- suming rather an xmexpected importance, I am resolved to stay, unless compelled to aban- don it." The circumstances which caused so great a change in Mr Williams' mind will be best de- tailed in his own words: — An island called Rurutu, about three hundred and fifty miles to the south of Raiatea, was visited by an epidemic, which appears to have been exceedingly fatal. As tlie natives believe every such calamity to be an infliction of some angry deity, two cbiefs of enterprising spirit determined to build each a large canoe, and, with as many of their people as coidd be conveyed, to launch u])on the mighty deep, committing tliemselves to the winds and the waves, in search of some happier isle ; but, a violent storm having arisen, the gi-eatcr part of the crew of one of them perished. Auura, to whom the other belonged, and his party, were driven about they knew not wliither, aud for three weeks they traversed the trackless ocean ; during which time they suffered exceedingly from the v.-ant of food and water."*At length, He who holds the winds in his fists, and the waters in the hollow of his hands, to whose merciful designs the elements are subservient, guided them to tiie Society Islands. They were driven on the coral reef which siu-rounds the island of i\Iaurua, the farthest west of the group. Had they not reached this island they must have jierished. The hospitable attention of the inhabitants of this little isle soon restored the strength of the exliausted voyagers, who related the ckeailful calamities which had befallen their country and themselves. The iVIauruans informed them that they formerly wor- shipped the same deities, and attributed every evil that liefel them to the anger of their " evil spirits;" but that now tliey wej-e v.'orshippers of Jehovah, tlie one living and true God; giving tlicm a detailed account of tlie mannar in which Christianity had been introduced among themselves, and pointing to the demolished maraes (or temples), and mutilated idols in conUrmation of their statements. The asto- nished strangers, on hearing that white men, who had come in ships from a distant country to bring them good tidings, were living at islands the summits of whose mountains were in sight, determined to proceed there immediately. A westerly wind setting in, Auura and his friends again launched on the deep, not to tly from the anger of tlieir gods, but in search of those who could explain more fully to them the nature of the astonishing news they had heard. Not being acquainted with the coast of I'orapora, they missed the entrance, and were driven to Raiatea. On landing, their astonishment was again excited; the mission- aries, their wives and famihes, the natives in Euro- pean dresses with hats and bonnets, their neat white cottages, together with tlie various useful arts wliich had been introduced amongst the people, hlled the strangers witii admiration and surjirise. A\'henthey were conducted to public worship on the Sabbath, they beheld with astonishment the assembled multitude; heard them sing the praises of tlie one living and true God ; and listened with the deepest interest to the mes- sage of mercy. At once they were couvinccd of the superiority of the Christian religion, and concluded that God had graciously conducted them there for the purpose of making them acquainted with its inesti- mable blessings. They were immediately placed under instruction, which they received with great avidity and attention, and, at the end of three months, departed for their own island again. Auura, how- ever, objected to go to their " land of darkness with- out a light in his hand ; " by which he meant some person to instruct him and his people in the truths of the Gospel. We (says Williams) assembled the mem- bers of our congregation, mentioned Auura's desire, and inquired who among them would go as teachers to the heathen of Rurutu. Two of our deacons, who were amongst our best men, came forward, and, we hope with tlie spu-it as well as in the language of tlie prophet, said, '■ Here are we; send us." They were therefore set apart to their work Ijy an interesting ser- vice. The greater part of the night previous to their departure was spent in providing them with some ne- cessary and useful articles. Every member of our Church brought something as a testimonial of his afl'ection ; one a razor, another a knife, a tliird a roll of native cloth, a fourth a pair of scissoi-s, and others, various useful tools. AVe supphed them with elemen- tary books, and a few copies of the Gospels in the Tahitian language, from which their own does not materially differ. Thus we equipped them for this expedition as well as our means would allow. And, in a little, as ^ve were anxious to know what reception was given to the teachers, and to open a communi- cation with this, to us, unknown island, we sent a boat of our own, with a native crew, to bring back intel- ligence. After an absence of little more than a month, we had the pleasure of seeing this boat return, laden with the trophies of victory — tlie gods of the lieathen taken in this bloodless war, and won by the power of the Prince of Peace. On reading the" letters which accompanied them, and seeing with our OAvn eyes the rejected idols, we felt a measure of tliat sacred joy which the angels of God will experience when they shout, " The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our God and his Christ." These events " revolutionized Jlr Williams' view of his position." He saw now that his field was not so narrow. Ilurutu had cast oil' its idols. Why not Rarotonga — why not INLan- gaia — why not the Samoas— wliy not all the countless islands with which the Pacific was studded, and of wliich Raiatea was but one ? Had he but a missionary shij), tlie whole of these could be reached ; and once reached, and tiio Gospel proclaimed, "what wonders" could the Lord not work! His soul was fired with the thought, and from that time he was in 18 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. spirit, as he was afterwards ia action, " the Apostle of Polynesia." A glorious vision opened up before him, the realization of which formed the business of liis future life — the object of his most ardent hopes, and prayers, and efforts. In the midst of joy there is vreeping. About this time Williams was greatly weighed down by intelligence which he received of the death of his mother ; to whom, as may well be con- ceived, ho was very fondly attached. But " weeping did not hinder sowing." He seized the opportunity of writing a solemn and faith- ful letter to his father, v/ho, till now, had been, although a decent, yet a worldly and irreli- gious man. And the reaping was in joy. The letter was blessed to his father's conversion ; and he died in 1S27, blessing God for the child who had been made the instrument of thus leading him from " darkness unto light." Near the close of 1821, Mr and Jilrs Williams haying been attacked with a rather dangerous malady, found it to be their duty to leave, for a short time, tlie scene of their labours, and pro- ceed to New South Wales, for the purpose of obtaining medical advice ; a course which they resolved on tlie more readily, as they hoped to be able, not only to visit some islands iji their course, but also, when they were at Sydney, " to advance and consolidate the civilization of the Society Islands, by establishing a regular com- munication between them and the colony, and opening a market there for native produce." They first sailed for Aitutaki, one of the Hervey Islands, Avhich was reached ou the 26th of October. On the arrival of the vessel (says V/illiams), we were very soon surrounded by canoes ; the natives were exceedingly noisy, and presented in their persons and manners all the ivild features of savage life. Some were tatoocd from head to foot; some were painted most fantastically v.ith pipe-clay and yellow and red oclire ; others were smeared all over with charcoal ; and in this state were dancing, shouting, and exhibit- ing the most frantic gestures. "We invited the chief, Tiimatoa, on board the vessel. A number of lais people followed him. Finding that I could converse readily in their language, I informed the chief of what had taken place in the Tahitian and Society Islands with respect to the overthrow of idolatry. He asked me, very signiiicantly, where great Tangaroa was? I told him that he, with all the other gods, was burned. He then inquired where Koro of Rniatea was ? I replied, that he, too, was consumed with fire ; and that I had brought two teachers to instruct him and his people in tlic Word and knowledge of the true God, that lie and they also might be induced to abandon and destroy their idols, as others had done. On ray introducing the teachers to him, he asked me if they would accompany him to the shore. I replied in the affirmative, and proposed that they should remain with him. He seized tliem with delight, and saluted them most heartily by rubbing noses ; which saluta- tion he continued for some time. On the chief pro- mising me that he would treat the teachers with kindness, and aflbrd them protection, taking with them their little store, they got into his large canoe, and the natives paddled off to the land, appai-ently greatly delighted with their treasure. Mr Williams then left and pi-oceeded to Sydney, where, after obtaining medical ad- vice, he made it his first business to look out for a ship. The Society's agent there refused to undertake the risk of the purcliase ; but see- ing Williams determined, notv/ithstauding, on having it, he relented, and proposed, on tlio part of the Society, that the risk should be shared between them. Williams instantly closed with the ofier — having inherited some property on his mother's death. " Whatever the sum may be," ho wrote home to the Directors— " whether .£500 or £1000, 1 have, rather than not accomplish the object, agreed to advance." A vessel of from eiglity to ninety tons' burden was accordingly purchased, which they named "The Endeavour;" and ever anxious for the tempoi\al good,and improvement of the islanders, he made arrangements also with a gentleman at Sydney, to come and superintend the cultiva- tion of various articles of produce suited for exportation. In April 1S22, he returned to Raiatea — his own health and that of Mrs Wil- liams greatly restored — and was received by the people with every demousti'ation of attachment and deliffht. EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLERS NOTE-BOOK. BY THE REV. W. K. TWEEDIE, EDINBURGH. THE PASSES OF THE ALPS. St Gothard— The SpUigen Trap— The Great St Bernard- Mont Blanc— The Scmplon — Mont Cenis. When a traveller from the southern parts of this island, whose eye is not accustomed to measure great altitudes, first approaches the Alps, his feelings are often or generally those of disappointment. His mind is not able to take in at once the true idea of the gigantic masses on which he gazes. He requires a scale of ineasmrement noio different from all that he has hitherto used, and must grow familiar with new objects and new proportions, before he can thoroughly estimate the grandeur amid which the Alpine travel- ler moves. Till that be done, it is rather a vague, indefinite awe that pervades the mind, than any cleai perception of tlie magnificence that surrounds him. For days, v.-e felt ia this way almost bewildered. When we first saw the Alps, Mont Rosa, Mont Elanc, the Young Vrav,% and a hundred other masses won- der-struck tlie mind at once; but it was days or ivceks before it grew familiar v/ith those giants of the earth, so as to comprehend their real vastness. This familiarity, however, is at length acquired; and the follov/ing Notes are designed to tell the im- pressions that were produced by a summer's journey- ing among those wondrous scenes. Switzerland, ivith its mountains, cities, lakes, and stirring associations, might detain us long ; but v.'e pass at once from these, and would have om* readers to suppose us, after a sail of five or six hours on the Lake of Vv'alstettcn, or the Four C;into;is — amid scenes made famous by the achievements of Tell, the Wallace of Sv.itzerland, and by the first Swiss Con- EXTRA'CTS FROM A TRAVELLER'S NOTE-BOOK. 19 federation (1307), which broke the chains which the House of Hapsburg was forging for that free land — quartered for tlie night at Altdorf, the capital of Uri, preparing for the ascent of the St Gothard. We are surrounded with many tokens or the superstition of the cantonof which Altdorf is the little capital, for it is one of those which rejected the Ueformation — which loved and bled for civil liberty, but cared not for that with which Christ maketh free. To reconnoitre the steep and glaciered pass which we liad to face and traverse on the morrow, we ascended an eminence above tlie town, and found its summit crowned with a churcli, filled with all the insignia of superstition, and telling to the very eye how the system which is characterized by " all the deceivableness of un- righteousness," cheats and deludes its adherents by giving them a religion for the senses, not for the soul — hiding the things of the Spirit, as Achan hid the gold, "bsneath their stuff." Tell is the genius loci here. Tlie ruins of his house, the spot where he is said to have struck the apple with an arrow from the he.ad of his son, at the command of Gessler, the tyrant of the times, and other mementoes, are here pointed out; but legend is so largely mixed up with the truth, that you gladly take refuge in scepticism when you arc not forced to examine and decide. Vv'c began the ascent of the St Gothard betimes, although we v/ere some leagues from the base. On the right and the left, around Altdorf and up the pass, mountains rose to the height of more than iSOOO feet. Their flanks were covered with stupendous glaciers, among which those of Trift and Gelmer are the most remarkable ; and even beside these, we found that man had been frequent and keen in the pursuit of his mimic glory — the counterfeit of the real, the glory that is hereafter to be revealed. At the Pont-du-diable, over the Reuss, the French and the Russians encountered each other during the revolu- tionary war ( 1 799). IMany were precipitated into the diz.^y chasm which is spanned by the bridge ; and when the Russians under Suwarrow entered the village of Andermat, which stands far up on the mountain, hun- ger had reduced them to such a state, tiiat soap was greedily devoured, liides were cooked and eaten, and everything was endured which could demonstrate the madness of man's ambition — the extravagance of the price paid to indulge his lust of power. 'J'he re- gions ivhich we were now traversing, with nothing to disturb us but the constant crackling of the neigh- bouring glaciers — next to the avalanche, one of the most awing sounds to which we have listened — are dreary and bleak, like a world which is indeed weighed down by the primal curse ; but the desola- tion that is spread over such scenes is nothing like the moral blight which has passed over the creature that has risen in revolt against its God. Much delusion, fostered by more romance, exists on tlie subject of Stem Cottaejes. Their Alpine posi- tions, and eyry-like clinging to the rocks, as seen on the sides of St Gothard and elsewhere, no doubt render them often picturesrjue in the distance ; but, to examine their interior in detail dissipates the charm. First of all, they are never cleanly, and cannot be comfortable. F'ormed chiefly of wood, or having only the ground storey of stone, they are so clumsily constructed as to appear misshapen masses. Their large projecting eaves, covering a balcony which serves the multifarious purposes of an apiary, a vinery, a washing-house, a hen-roost, a depot for wood, a hemp-store, cum rjuihiisdani aliis, give the whole rather the aspect of a huge Gipsy encampment, than of those drawing-room sketches which are as fanciful as Utopia. Wherever such Swiss cottages are to be found, we have not seen them in all Swit- zerland. But we ascend the pass, and arc approaching the summit. It is a work of seven or eight toilsome hours to those who travel on foot, as every traveller in Switzerland should do. The path formed over the mountain, to connect Switzerland with Italy, is a work of utility rather than of genius, like the Semplon. The higiiest point of the pass is 6390 P'rench feet above the level of the sea, though the mountain, at one point, rises nearly as much more, sheer above the traveller's head. The windings and embankments of the route, the granite rocks blasted, and at one place tunnelled, the bridges built, and galleries formed — all tell of the eilbrts needed to level, or at least to lower, the barrier between Switzerland and Italy. On either side, and all along the pass, the in- habitants seem wholly given up to idolatry; and as one wanders from place to place, amid these strange, stupendous scenes, he is prevented, when he reflects, from enjoying their gi'andeur, by the spectacle of degi-aded minds and enslaved souls, which everywhere ! meets him. If tlie religion of the Saviour be found only in the Bible, these people still need to be con- verted to it; but the route formed vrith. so much labour, and at such a cost, which carried us over the Alps, was a step towards the grand consummation, i when " men shall run to and fro, and knowledge (the j knowledge of the Lord) shall be increased." j During a short residence in one of the valleys to the north of St Gothard, we made an experiment which, to ourselves at least, was more important far than all Professor Forbes' observations on glaciers or moraines, although vfc do not think meanly of his labours. We were at no great distance from J.Iont Pilate, Rigi, Titlis, the Blum-Alpe, Wetterhorn, and other mountains p}Tamidal and peaky — one of the noblest amphitheatres in the midst of v.-hich man could stand. The Sabbath calm v.-as reigning; for, though there was no house of God to which we could resort. He who said, " Lo, I am wth you alway," is ever redeeming his promise, and imparting his peace to those that seek him — and a Sabbath day among the Alps may be, to a spiritual mind, a sweet foretaste of "tlie rest that remaincth for the people of God." As the moon rose unclouded on that most lovely eve, we tried to put it to the proof whether men can " rise through natxre up to nature's God ;" or whether there be not a fallacy, nay, something Antichristian, in- volved in tliat maxim, if the kingdom of nature be viewed apart from the dispensation of grace. The stupendous objects that lay around us — the serene moonshine — the cold glittering of ghaciers far and near — the deep shadows of Mont Pilate and the Wettorliorn Alp — with the grave-like silence that 20 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. prevailed — all influenced or subdued the mind, so that it would be wrong to assert that there is not some kind of rehgious emotion envolved by sucli a spectacle. The mind struggles for a little to find expression, and feeling that to be impossible, re- tires into itself, and calmly contemplates the cyno- sure of glories. There may be thus produced a kind of pantheistic admiration of the things that are seen — an unsubstiiutial, impractical, imaginative theism; but the question still recurs, Can all these glories coimect ine, a sinner, with my God ? Can they re-conduct me to liis favour ? Can they answer, even by a hint, the question of Job : " How shall man be just before his God?" No doubt, "the works of God are good, and sought out by all that take pleasure therein;" and one of the charges brought s gainst his ancient people is, that they did not regard the works of his liands. But these works, by themselves, never can calm my fears, nor tell how the holy God can deal in mercy with me a sinner ; and all the iudiscribable grandeur, by which I was an hour ago surrounded, gave lac, for that jjui-pose, no clearer notion of the infinite Jehovah. It is not through nature that we can an-ive at the saving or satisfying knowledge of him. The notion of power becomes more vivid amid such scenes ; but what if it be hostile power ? The notion of the wisdom that presides over all one sees, is more solemnly impressed; but what if that wisdom be pledged to see me punished as a sinner "i These are the questions that never yet were ansvrercd amid such scenes, merely by them. It is poetry, then, not religion, that dreams of sinners ascending to God through nature. It is " God manifest in the flesh " alone, that brings the sinner and the Judge in amity together. It is in "the briglitness of the Father's glory," and not in the grandeur of the Alps, or the loveliness of other sights, that we can " acquaint ourselves v/ith God, and be at peace." I found no solution for the question, " How can man be just before his God ? " in all the groups of magnificence which surrounded mc an hour ago; but I find it solved and for ever settled when I turn from these to look, as a believer, on " the image of the invisible God." The savage aspect of the moun- tains, or the quiet aspect of the Lake of Lucerne, at a little distance — the mixture of the terrific and the tranquillizing — may combine to generate such senti- ments as pass for piety, when pure and undefiled religion is unknown. But though men may love what they call Deity more, they cannot knovvr the true Deity, tlie " God of pardons," better. '" No man knowcth the Father, save the Son, and he to whom the Hon reveals him," is the saying of Jehovah. It is true, whether I feel its truth or not; but I never felt its truth more distinctly than now, in the bosom of the Alps, with all their glories, dusked by moon- light, but therefore the more awing to maa"s spirit In returning to our home, we passed from the temple where man might have worshipped the God of nature, had sin never blighted the soul, to the church of the place — a Popish one. The worship- pers were fcvr, for the evening opera (one can lilcen their v.'orship to little else) was over, and only the stricter or more anxious devotees remained behind. The glimmering lamps were barely sufficient to make ths darkness visible, but more than sufficient to show that we had passed from the scene of one delusion to another. Men, untaught by the Spirit of God, both regarding Him and themselves, think they can worship Him with acceptance as the God of nature ; and deluded Romanists, equally untaught, think that prayers olFered by tale will be heard, and an atone- ment oiFered or eked out by self-inflicted tortures accepted. Each class, the Deist, and the Romanist, overlooks or undervalues Him who is the appointed meeting-place between the sinner and his God — the Daysman who " laid his hand upon us both, so mak- ing peace." Yet gladly vrould we believe that the sighs which we heard in that gloomy temple of su- perstition were the strugglings of sonls convinced of sin, for reconciliation with their God — a reconciliation which miglit, through the Spirit's blessing, be enjoyed, as it has been enjo)'cd, by Romanists, like A'Kempis and Pascal, iia spite of all the wood, and hay, and stubble, which a crafty priesthood has piled upon the only foundation which man can lay for hope towards his God. In our own land, how many are Papists at heart — praying by tale, and doing penance by their own acts, and pleasing God because they belong to i/t^ Church ! One leaves, ivith regret, any spot where a new truth has been learned, or old tiiiths confirmed ; but a traveller must move on ; and after a night's rest at Andermat, we resumed the ascent, now fully half completed. The snowy summit of St Gothard is crossed, where even the Scotch fir-tree first degene- rates into a feeble shrub, and then disappears — the fountains of the Reuss and the Ticino are passed; — the former rushing towards Switzerland, the Rhine, and the German Ocean; the latter, to Italy, the I'o, and the Adriatic. The hospital on the Col, fast falling to decay, because the new route has made it useless, is left behind — our passports are examined, and our knapsacks searched, on the Italian frontier — waterfalls on the Ticino are scarcely glanced at, though they would be visited by thousands, and admired by them all, in every country but Switzer- land. We descend by Airolo into sunny Italy, and soon discover that we are surrounded by a race of men specifically dififerent from those vre have left behind us, yet withal frank and bland to strangers. Monks are now even more rife, superstition is more rampant, and all that presents the religion of the Saviour in travesty or caricature becomes more abundant. Faido, Al Dazio, the Val Levantine, Bellinzona, — all can be but named, for our present business is v.ith the Passes of the Alps. Our next paper shall refer to the Splugcn Trap, by which we recrossed from Italy to Switzerland, and the great St Bernard, by which we returned to Italy again. THE CHRISTIAN S DEATH. It matters not at what hour of the day The righteous fall asleep ; Death cannot come To him untimely who is ilt to die ; The less of this cold world, the more of heaven; The briefer life, the earlier immortality. 'Milma-s, MANNA GATHERED FROM THE GROUND. 21 MANNA GATHERED FROM THE GROUND. BY THE REV. V/ILLIAM AP.XOT, GLASGOW. INTRODUCTORY. Tho WorJcs and the Word of God. " Consider the lilies of the ficlil, how they grow."— JIatt. vi. is. " Unto the pure, all things are pure; but unto them that arc dclileJ and unbelieving, is nothing pure." And the reason is added : " Tlieir mind and con- science is defiled." — Tit. i. 15. The condition of the observer's mind gives a character to all that he observes. If his spirit is burdened within him, all nature .seems arraj'ed in gloom. If his heart is joy- ful, Avliercvcr he looks the world answers with a smile. The glass through which you look gives its own colour to everything you see. This law of jiliysical nature holds good in morals too. The iiiiud — tl'.e soul's eye— whether carnal or spiritual, tinges wif.i its ovra hue all the objects of nature and all the events of Providence. In order to judge whether you get good or evil by contemplating any object, I do not care so mucli to inquire vhat you see, as Iio'V you see it. The result depends not so much on the abstract character of the object, as on the frame of the observer's mind. The same scene of vice Viill entice one into its vortex, and ckive another away. The same beauty of holiness will to one man be a weariness, and to another a delight. If your soul be set on heaven, every breath that blows will impel you tliitherward. If God's image be restored upon your soul within, God's mercy will be manifest in his works without. If Clirist dwell in your heart by faith, the objects of sight will readily remind you of Christ. If you have received the light of the glorious Gospel in upon your soul, you ^\-ill see it reflected from the face of the world. Again I say, the good or the evil your soul may get Croni converse with the material world, depends not so much on the things you meet, as the spirit you meet them in. If you are the Father's child, all things are the Father's servants. " To the pui"e, all things arj pure." When t!ie spiritual mind is imparted, there is abundant scope for its exercise. AVhen the faculties of the FOul are enlightened, and sanctified, and set on ({od, they have a wide field to go forth upon; and " the field is the world." The AVord and the works of God mutually reflect light on each other. True, we would never find the way of salvation by looking on the earth beneath. That way is found, not imprint- ed on creation, but wi-itten in the "Word — not dis- covered by rei'.son, but revealed to faith. Yet, when the knowledge of God is revealed direct from heaven, the material world supplies in part the means of diffusing it. 'J'here is a language in the work of his hand, that helps to interpret the law of his mouth. The light of day issues all from the sun on high; but nuioli of its use to men depends on its be'mg reflected back from the surfiice of the earth. The dead cold stone on the mountain side is dumb — it cannot speak ; but it is so formed, that it echoes back the voice of a li-vinjj man. So, though the Word of eternal life does not come from " herbs, and plants, and fruitful trees; " yet, tliroitijh them, it may come in more distinct articulation to the ear of man. In this sense, the earth helps the woman — helps the Church — to conceive of the glorious things that God hath prepared for them that love him. If you be Christ's, all things are yours ; and if you be skilful in the Word of Righteousness, you may turn everything to a profitable account. If the imagina- tion were sanctified, it might roam free, even over this fallen world. A lamb may safely be set at large — it will not wallov/ in the mire, although mire be within its reach. Let a bee roam free over all the bloom of summer; — it Viill bring no poison home, though there be poison in some of the liowers. Oh, for the instinct of a new nature, so strong that all impurity would repel, all holiness attract it I It is not only when reading the Word, and wait- ing on ordinances, that believers are dra^ving near to God, and tasting that he is gracious. God is every- thing to them ; and they now see God in everything. The exercise is pleasing and profitable. The Bible encourages us to engage in it, and teaches us how. Nay, it trains us into the habit. It takes young scholars by the hand, and leads them over the path oft, just that they may be able to tread it alone. I low many parables did Jesus put forth, all with the same end in view — not only to lead us to God, but to lead us to God over a path cut out of creation ! He made Nature the handmaid of Grace. This is the jieculiarity of the parables — they employ the objects and laws of nature to reveal a spiritual kingdom, and accomplish a spiritual work. A scholar in the school of Christ not only sets his affections on things above, but he lays his hand on thmgs below, .ind makes them the very ladder on which he climbs. He presses temporal things into his service, and makes them the instruments of lifting up his soul to heavenly things. Thus, one who is created again in the image of Clirist, filled with his Spirit, and trained after liis example, cannot see a hen gathering her chickens under her wing, without thinking of God's mercy shielding men, and men's madness in refusing mercy. He cannot see a fisher casting his net into the sea, without thinking of the office of the ministry, insti- tuted to draw forth sinners from a sea of wrath. He cannot see a vine branch laden with its fruit, without thinking of Christ sustaining believers, and believers abiding in Christ. In this sense, already the earth is " full of the knoAvledge of the Lord." Although it is a wilder- ness through which they are travelling, the Israel of God may gather manna from the ground they tread on; but though they gather it on earth, they know that it did not gi-oiv there — it has fallen from heaven all. The great things of God's law — the things that concern man's salvation — appear not in the laws of nature, but in the covenant of gi-ace. From the ana- logies of nature we cannot get any new light on the things that belong to our peace ; and yet it may be good to trace the analogies that exist between things temporal and things spiritual — the works of the same God. If we receive from the Word a spiritual thing, and, by means of a natural law, fix it for a longer 2-2 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. per'.od before the mind, for a more leisurely contem- plation, we have not lost our labour. Although these analogies do not make kuowu new religious truths — altliough they do not even throw any additional light on religious truths already Icnown — they are not use- less, if they serve as a hwndle to detain a little longer those unseen things which Hit so quickly past, and leave so slight an impress on our minds. Let us try this exercise. Let us take our theme froin the Word, and, under its guiding light, let us range over nature seeking food for faith. Conflning om- view, in the first instance, to the vegetable de- partment of creation, let us try so to arrange some of its facts and laws, as to make them teach spiritual wisdom. Talcing the Bible in our hands as our guide, and looking to the Lord for the blessing, we shall adopt tiie converse of Jeremiah's exclamation (xxii. 29), " O earth, earth, earth, sj^eai: the word of the Lord." The earth, as well as the heavens, may declare bis glory. A SABBATH AMONG- THE WALDENSES. All our readers must have heard of the AValdenses, who, in the retirement of their moimtain fastnesses, " kept the faith," when the whole of Christendom besides was " faithless " — and for so long a time suf- fered such fierce and relentless persecution at the hands of their Popish oppressors. The following account of a .Sabbatli spent lust July, in one of their valleys — that of Angrogna — is taken from an ex- tremely interesting volume,* lately published by Dr Henderson of Highbury College, already well kno-\vn to the public as the author of " Travels in Iceland," &c. :— On Sabbath, July 21, 1844, I accompanied Pro- fessor Revel to Angrogna, where he was to officiate for the day. We commenced our walk about eight o'clocic, and, after crossing the Angrogna torrent, pro- ceeded up the gorge through which it emerges a little above the Catholic convent. The scenery through which we jjassed was sublime and lovely, occa- sionally presenting to view immense rocks and pro- found chasms along the torrent below us on the left ; but it burst forth into all the beauties of moun- tain landscape as we prosecuted our walk farther up to the church of Serre, in which the former of the two services was to be performed. The ruggedness of the rocky glen gave place to the varied terraces of chestnut, walnut, and cherry trees, along which the pathway winded; and, in many places, I could have imagined myself taking a promenade in the walks of a nobleman's park in England, rather than traversing the mountain districts of Angrogna. As we arrived at the church, we had to pass through crowds of the Vaudois, who were exchanging saluta- tions and communications with each other ; many of the latter of which, doubtless, had reference to the occurrences of the past week. This practice of loiter- ing about the church doors till after the service has commenced is, I was sorry to learn, too common in the Valleys, as it is in many parts of my native coun- try. It may, in some measure, be accounted for on the principle, that this occasion is the only one on which most of the people have an opportunity of meeting each other; but it unquestionably argues the absence of a due sense, in tliose who indulge in it, of the importance of divine worship, and of the sanctity of the Sabbath. Some of the pastors have endea- * The Vaudois. Snow, London. voured to do away with the scandal ; but bad habits are not easily reformed, especially if there be the absence of the true spiritual principle to ^vhich an appeal can be made. In tlie coui'se of a shoit time the clmrcli filled, though it was not crowded, owing, I was told, to many of the inhabitants being away in their distant summer chalets upon the mountains. The service was begun by the regent, who ascended a desk iu the table-pew before tiie pulpit, and read the first three chapters of the Epistle to the Epho- sians, subjoining at the end of each, the words, " Ici suivent lus ohservatUms ;''"' and then read the practical reflections of Ostervald, whose large folio Bible is used in all the Vaudois churches. He next read the DecalogTie ; and concluded vnih. the substance of the law, as given by our Lord, Matt. xxii. '.')i-A\). The minister then ascended the pulpit, and h.aving engaged in prayer, gave out some verses of a psalm, which were sung by the congregation sitting, each having a psalm book, with the musical notes under the lines. They joined in full chorus, and sang with good taste, evincing that they are not only tond of sacred music, but tliat they are diligent in its culti- vation. The tune was plaintive in its character, and required the pronunciation of the mute vowels at the termination of words, as is customary in the Protes- tant psalmody of France. When the singing had ended, another prayer was offered up. The professor then preached on the marriage sup- per (Matt. xxii. 1-14), setting forth, in a very lucid and interesting manner, the provision wliich God, in his infinite love and mercy, hath made for the salva- tion of the guilty ; the extent and freeness of the Gos- pel invitations ; the proneness of mankind to plead any excuse, rather than embrace the blessings of divine grace; and the fearful doom which awaits all who reject them. The sermon was characterized by a style adapted to the meanest capacity; an earnest- ness and pathos admirably calculated to rivet the attention and move the passions; and a searching discrimination of character, which rendered it next to impossible for any of the hearers to go away with- out ha^-ing had some intimations of conscience re- specting his state before God. It was neither read nor dehvered with the assistance of notes, but preached from memory, having been previously mand.ited with care — while extemporaneous sentences and passages appeared occasionally to be thrown in, according as some apt or striking idea happened to be suggested to the mind of the speaker. This mode of preaching is universal in the churches of the Vaudois, and is regarded by them to be so important, that they would on no account listen to a minister who should read his discourse. Immediately after sermon, the ordinance of bap- tism was administered. We are told that A young-looking man stepped forward, holding in his arms a child, over which, and pinned to his shoulders, was spread a square piece of red silk brocade, ornamented with bows of ribbon at the corners. He was accompanied by two females, one of whom had a small phial with water, and a towel. When they had taken their station m front of the pulpit, in the attitude of kneeling, the muiis- ter addressed him as follows : " You present this child that it may be baptized ? " to which he replied, " Yes." A short discourse on the nature of the ordi- nance was then delivered, to the effect, that our Lord teaches us the necessity of our being born again, if we would enter into the kingdom of God; by which is meant, that a great change takes place in us when we are received into the comnuniion of our Saviour — a change which is very sensibly represented by the rite of baptism. For, as water cleanseth the impuri- ties of our body, so we shall find in communion with Christ all tliat is necessary for cleansincc the pollu- tions of our soul; and as God offers us his grace m the pardon of our sins, and the assistance of his Holy fS))irit, when he receives us into covenant with him- self, so we, on our part, engage to jiurify oui-selves from all filthine.-.s of the flesh and spirit, and to per- fect liolincss in the fear of God ! 8uch are the sacred engagements into which we enter by baptism. And we cause our children to enter into them, so far :is depends ujion us, when we consecrate them to (iod by this sacred riie, and present thcra to him to be received into his Church. And when they come to the years of discretion, they are bound to fulfil these engagements, if they would participate in the bene- fits of the covenant of God, which are destined for none but true believers. Having adverted to the readiness of God to extend his favour to children as well as to their parents, and to the circumstance of our Saviour's putting his hands upon them, and blessing them, the minister called upon the whole congi-cgation to unite in devoting the child to God, and commended it to His grace in pi-aycr. The vows were then laid upon the father and ac- companying relatives; and The minister having added : " God give you grace to fulfil your promise," came down from the pulpit, and holding out both his hands, placed close together, into which one of the females poured the water she had brought with her in the phial, he poured it upon the child, pronouncing, at the sametime, its name, and repeating the words of the institution: " I bap- tize thee," &c. The rite having thus been performed, he returned to the pulpit, and offered up another general prayer, Avhicli was followed by the Lord's Prayer and the Crocd, rehearsed by the minister alone. .Some verses of a psalm were then sung by the congregation, and the service closed with the Benediction. 'J'lierc was much about the appearance of the con- gregation that reminded me of scenes which, in my early days, I had witnessed in Scotland. The men and women were all dressed in their best clothes : the elder men with their coarse but white shirt col- lars rising above their neckerchiei's, and the young men with theirs folded down, and simply buttoned, or tied with a ribbon in front. The females wore their hair turned back under plaited caps, and had cotton handkerchiefs in the shape of small shawls. The sexes sat separately; the women in front of the jiulpit, which is placed against one side of the church, and the men to the right and left on either side. Just midcr the puli)it is a large square pew without doors, ■which is reserved for the elders and any stranger who may happen to enter the church. There are no close pews in the Vaudois churches. The worshippers sit on benches with backs, which are open to the poorest equally with those who may be in some-.vhat better circumstances. No one has occasion to envy his neighbour on account of superior accommodation. No one is put to shame by being compelled to give way to another. All distinction of persons is lost in the presence of Him who looketh not upon the out- Avard apjiearance, but u]ion the heart, and to whose omniscient eye each, while uniting with all, ought ever to regard himseli' as specially the object of iii- Bpection. The churches arc extremely simple. The only decorations exhibited in some of them are passages of Scripture, or the ancient insignia of the Vaudois — a candlestick with a light shedding its rays across the surrounding darkness, encircled with seven stars, having the motto, " Lux Iticet in tciKhrii.'''' Any- thing more appropriately descriptive of the position and destination of the people it is impossible to c, from which he took occasion to expatiate on the various classes to whom the invitation of our Jr'aviour is addressed, the nature of the rest to be found in him for the guilty, and the happiness of all who cordially choose his seiTice. Another baptism was celebrated precisely in the same manner as in the mornmg. The congregation was large, and the deepest attention appeared to be paid to the interesting discourse to which they listen- ed. After sernce we returned to the prcsbyterc. It was pleasing to observe several of the young people of both sexes proceeding shortly afterwards to a prayer-meeting, which was about to be held high up on the mountain. They were accompanied by a venerable patriarch, of upwards of eighty, who climbed up the pathway, with the New Testament under his arm, at a pace" which not a little surprised me. In this way many of the Vaudois spend the evening of the Sabbath ; while otlicrs, unimpressed with a sense of its sanctity, and of the impoi-tnnce of the objects to which it shoulil be devoted, con- gi'egate for trifling conversation, or vorldly amuse- ment. As we returned through the hamlet of St Laurent, we observed several persons, partly Roman Catholics and partly Vaudois, playuig at ninepins, without anj' apparent constitmsness that they were doing WTong. It was formerly the custom to slioat at the tirata, or target, in order to keep up the cha- racter of expert marksmen; but the practice is lc:-3 connnon tluin it was, and takes jdace on Catholic holidays, wh.en the Vaudois ai"e interdicted work, rather than on the Sabbath. After family worship, I retired to rest, in no ordin;iry degree gratified at haviiig cnjoj-ed the pri- vilege of spending a Sabbath among the Vaudois. 24 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ISailw BrcaS. FmCAY. " It is appointed unto all men once to die."— Hed. is. 27. Only this frail and fleeting breath Preserves me from tlie jaws of death: Soon as it fails at once I'm gone, And plunged into a world unknown, Value not yourselves on the blossom of youth ; for wliile ye arc "in your blooming years ye are but ripen- ing; for the grave; and Death gives the fatal stroke tvithout asking any body's age. Glory not in your strength — it will quickly be gone : the time will soon be when yc shall not be able to ttirn yourselves on a bed; and you must be carried by your grieving friends to your long home. And what signifies your healthful constitution:'' Value not yourselves on jour beauty, which " shall consume in the grave. " Remember the change Death makes on the fairest face : " Thou changest his countenance, and sendest ■him away." Death makes the gi-eatest beauty so loathsome, that it must be buried out of sight. Could a looking-glass be used in the house appouited for all living, it would be a terror to those who now look oftener into their glasses than into their Bibles. And what though the body be gorgeously arrayed ? The finest clothes are but badges of our sin and shame, and in a little time will be exchanged for a i\'inding-sheet. — Boston. SATURDAY. " And after that the judgment."— Heb. ix. 27. Tlien, leaving all I love below. To God's tribunal I must go; Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, And fix my everlasting state. Believers ! let not the terror of that day dispirit you when you meditate upon it : let those who have slighted the Jvidge, and continue enemies to him and to the way of holiness, droop and hang down their heads when they think of his coming; but lift ye up your heads with joy, for the last day ^vill be your best day. The judge is your Head and Husband, your Redeemer and your Advocate. Ye must appear before the judgment-seat, but ye shall not come into condemnation — his coming will not be against you, but for you. It is otherwise with unbelievers — a neglected Saviour yul\ be a severe Judge. — Ibid. " This day is holy unto the Lord your God." — Neh. viii. D. The King himself comes near. And feasts his saints to-day, Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray. One day amidst the place Where my dear God hath been. Is sweeter than ten thousand days Of pleasurable sin. When you enter this day into the sanctuary, or into your closets, shut the door of your hearts, so that worldly thoughts may not enter to trouble you. Set fjolemn obligations and charges upon your hearts, that they wander not from God; bind the sacrifice with cords to the altar's horns; and if the birds of pray come by surprise down upon the sacrifice, then, like Abraham (Gen. xv. 11), "drive them presently av.-ay," and summon every thought to attend your main business. Retract every vain thought yy\i\x a sigh, and chide with your hearts for vain excursions; check them as Christ did his drowsy disciples — What ? <;annot you watch with Christ for one hour? how, then, will you like to be engaged in heaven's work to all eternity, where there is no interruption? — Willison. MONDAY. "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with its afl'ections and lusts." — Gal. v. 24. O for a heart to praise ray God, A heart from sin eet free — A heart all sprinkled with that blood So freely spilt for me. A heart in every thought renewed. And full of love divine ; Perfect and right, and pure and good— A copy, Lord, of thine. Oh! never suffer sin to live any more in you, that would not suffer your Saviour to live in the world; never allow that a room m your heart, that would not allow him a room among the living on earth. O be- ware of crucifying Christ afresh ! Never dispute any more, when a temptation is presented, whether Christ or Barabbas should be preferred — your lusts denied, or Christ crucified ; but presently cry out against your lusts, " Crucify them, crucify them.'" — Willison, TUESDAY. "Be clothed with humility."—! Pet. v. 5. Lord, if thou thy grace impart, Poor in spirit, meek in heart, I shall as my Master be. Clothed with mild humility. Simple, teachable, and mild, Changed into a little child ; Pleased with all the Lord provides, Weaned from all the world besides. The casting down of our spirits in tnie humility, is but like throwing a ball on the ground, which makes it rebound the higher to heaven None was ever so high and glorious as Christ, yet none so meek and lowly. — Maso7i. ■WEDNESDAY. " Search the Scriptures."— John v. 30. Precious Bible ! what a treasure „ Does the Word of God afford ! All I want for life or pleasure. Food and med'cine, shield and sword : Let the world account me poor, Having this I need no more. Hold fast and close by your Bible. Peruse it with frequency, with seriousness, with diligence, and ivith self-application Let it be your study by day, and your song by night. Let it be your companion in society, and in solitude. Though you abandon everythuig else, keep your Bible; believe it, love it, read it, and you shall be hajipj'. It is the light of your souls; it is the source of your joy; it is the ground of your hope ; it is the well out of Vi'hich you are to draw the waters of life and salvation. — liev. Dr AndrciV Thomson s Sermons. TIIUllSDAY. " Let your speech be alway with grace seasoned with salt," — CoL. iv. G. O may I ne'er my silence break. Unless inspired by God to speak ; 'J'hen let sucli power attend my word. That all who hear may seek the Lord. I would never vrish to be in a company in which there is not room for my Master, as well as for myself. — Ilervey. Bev.'are of vain, flattering, and proud speeches. Beware also of m uch speaking. An open mouth is a sign of an empty heart, as a chest open is a sig'n that nothmg is in it. When money or jewels are within, it is kept locked. Be not hasty in speech, and as the best rule of all — commit the guidance of yoar tongue in prayer to God. — Philip Henry. Edinburgh : Printed and Published by John Johnstone, Hunter Square. London: II. Giioomuridge ^_ Sons. Glasgow : J. 11. M'Nair & Co. ; and to be had by order of all Booksellers throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 25 SCRIPTURE COINCIDENCES AGAINST POPERY. BY THE REV. JAMES BEGG, EDINBURGH. Popery has been called the " masterpiece of Satan;" and no one can have studied itscharac- teror marked its striking success without seeing how eminently fitted it is to adapt itself to all the various moods and phases of depraved human nature. It a])p('als to all the senses — calls in the aid of all tlie arts — suits itself to all the tastes of men ; it provides indulgences for the sensual — brilliant pageants for the gay — gloomy retirements for the morose — jjrincely honours for tiio amliitious — promises of heaven for the generous devotee. It is literally "all things to all men." It meets man at all the most tender and interesting i)eriods of his history — 'at his cradle — at his marriage — in sick- ness—at death — at the grave, when weeping over the remains of friends; and for all these cir- cumstances it has plausible and appropriate promises. It lays hold of the teacher, the poli- tician, the author, the statesman, the dema- gogue, the king, and strives to turn them all into its obsetpiious instruments. It seizes the press. It loves, especially, to dwell at the centres and sources of earthly power. If that power be a despotism. Popery has its most accomplished agents at the despot's ear. If it be a democracy, Popery, whilst la- bouring to overthrow all forms of human free- dom, has its busy agents everywhere wielding the masses towards the accomj)lishment of its ends. It has already achieved mighty triumphs; and the Word of God and the signs of the tunes seem to point to victories yet to be won, before it is destroyed " by the spirit of Christ's mouth, and the brightness of his coming." The man who despises it is erpially ignorant of Scripture, of history, and of the human heart. To it the striking language of our Saviour may be justly applied : " If it were possible it would deceive even the very elect." And yet Cod, in great mercy to his people, has not only drawn at full length the features of this great apostasy in his Holy Word, so that " he that runneth may read," branding it with the stamp of his deepest abhorrence, and fore- telling its fearful overtlirow; but there are cer- tain striking coincidences in Scripture which seem to have been designed sjiecially to warn Christians against the snares of the Man of Sin. It is no i)art of our intention, at present, to en- ter into an argument at lai'ge against Poi)ery, but simply to refer to a few important Scrip- ture facts which, as it were, lie on the surface. I. There was an ancient Church of Rome, to which the Apostle Paul, under the inspiration of the Spirit of God, v.rote a lengthened ejiistlc; which forms part of the canon of Scripture. In this epistle there are two points very re- No. .3. markable, as connected with the corruptions of the modern Church of Rome. First, The Epistle to the Romans contains the fullest connected exliibition tobefound in Scrip- ture of the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel, and especially of that doctrine of a sinner's justifica- tion by faith alone in the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the imputation of his all-perfect righteous- ness upon the denial of which the whole super- structure of Romish delusion is based. There was thus, therefore, not only a protest given in by anticipation against the corruptions that were afterwards to spring up in the Romish Church, but the means of escape from error were divinely provided, if Rome had not hid the key of knowledge. If her deluded votaries were permitted to read the Book of God, a professing Christian at modern Rome might have abundant means of testing the truth of the dogmas of Antichrist, and of seeiug how far the iirofcssing Church to which he now belongs has removed away from the truth of the Gospel, as maintained by the pen of in- spiration, and originally professed at Rome itself. And, meantime, every Christian has the ready means of aiiplying the same test to the overtlirow of that system of will-worship and superstition which has, under Popery, usurped the place of the simplicity of truth ; so that, amidst all vain rites and ceremonies of modern idolatry, we can hear the still small voice of truth, as addressed to ancient Rome : " Being justified by faith, we have jjeace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." But, tiecondly, The same epistle to the Poman Church contains a very solemn and striking warning of the danger of apostasy, to which the subsequent history of that Church has now ai)pcnded a commentary. To almost no other Church is such language addressed; and with what feelings must a true Christian, standing at Rome amidst spiritual desolation, read the following passage : " Thou wilt say then, The branches were broken off, that I might be grafted in. Well; because of un- belief they were broken off, and thou staudest by faith. Be not high-minded, but fear: for if (Jod spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he also sjjare not thee. " — Rom. xi. 19-21. II. The coincidences to which we have re- ferred are still nu)re remarkable in the case of Peter, the apostle who was afterwards to bo falsely set forth as the headand representativeof Romanism. To cover the fearful impostiu'e of him who sitteth in the tcmiile of God, claiming divine infallibility and universal dominion in the Chiistiau Church, the Pope professes to bo March 14, 184S. 26 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. the successor of the Apostle Peter, in whom such attributes are supposed to have primarily- resided. Now, it is very remarkable, First, That Peter, so far from beiiiw infallible, was the most fallible of all the apostles, except Judas. He fell fearfully and repeatedly before our Lord's death; and lest any one should imagine that he had acquired personal infallibility after Christ's resurrection, we are told that he sinned after that. The fact is very singu- lar, and is recorded of no other apostle. Paul makes the following statement : " When Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face; because he was to be blamed. For be- fore that certain came from James, he did eat with the Gentiles ; but when they were come, he withdrew and separated himself, fearing them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews dissembled likewise with him; inso- much that Barnabas also was carried away with theii' dissimulation." — Gal. ii. 11-13. Peter is, therefore, a singularly unfortunate head of a Church professing infallibility. Secondly, The Popish Church requires celi- bacy on the part of all her ministers — a diabo- lical device, designed to promote her worldly influence; but the parent of a world of wicked- ness. Here also it is remarkable, that Peter, v/hom the unmarried ministers of Rome profess to copy and to represent, is the only apostle whose wife is expressly mentioned in Scripture. We are told that, " when Jesus was come into Peter's house, he saw his wife^s mother laid and sick of a fever." — Matt. viii. 14. The other apostles may have had wives— Paul maintains his right to have one if he chose ; but the wives of none of the rest are expressly mentioned in Scripture. Thirdly, There is not only no such thing in the Word of God as a spiritual despotism, Uke that of Rome, set uj) by our blessed Saviour under any of his apostles; such a system is not only expressly and repeatedly con- demned as a violation of the whole sjiirit of the Gospel, but it is remarkable that, in jDlanning out the fields of their respective labours, Peter is said to have been especially an apostle to the Jetcs, whilst Paul Avas peculiarly the apostle of the Gentiles. Paul exjDressly tells us that the " Gospel of the uncircumcision was com- mitted imto him, as the Gospel of the circum- cision was unto Peter." — Gal. ii. 7. If Peter, therefore, had been destined to be an universal bishop at all, it must have been, not at Rome, but at Jerusalem ; not over Geutiles, but over Jews. It is singular that the Apostasy did not choose Paul as its head. He was the apostle of the Gentiles ; he was certainly at Rome, and certainly preached the Gospel there. But there were other reasons for their not choosing him, and God has arranged all these events in in- finite wisdom, that the light of truth may shine clearly, even in the midst of darkness, and that the very wrath and folly of man might be made to praise him. THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS, MISSIONARY TO THE SOUTH SEAS. PART III. — ^THE MISSIONART. In 1823, Williams commenced those " mis- sionary enterprises," the fame of which is in all the Churches, and which will immortalize his name as the modern " Paul " of missions. On the 4th of July, accompanied by six native teachei's, who had been solemnly ordained to the work on the preceding evening, he sailed in the " En- deavour" for the Hervey Islands; the whole of which he was determined to visit, if possible, before his return. The first at which he called was Aitutaki, where he found that a wondrous change had taken place since his previous visit. When (says he) the chief's canoe came alongside, we learned from Tebati, one of the first who embraced the Gospel, that the maraes were burned; that the idols which had escaped the general conflagration were in the possession of the teachers; that the profession of Christianity was general, so much so, indee4j that not a single idolater remained; and that a large chapel was erected, nearly two hundred feet in length, plastered, and awaiting my ai-rival to open it. When the teachers came on board, they not only confirmed all that had been told us, but added, that the Sabbath was regarded as a sacred day, no work of any kind being done on it ; that all the people, men, women, and children, attended divine service ; and that family prayer was very general throughout the island. We hastened to the shore ; and, instead of the unsightly gesticulations and lascivious songs ivith which I was greeted on my first visit, now found some spelling long words, and others repeating portions of the Catechism, or a prayer ; another asking a blessing on his food ; and others singing a verse of a hymn ; in- deed, every one appeared anxious to show what pro- gress he had made. Williams remained there two days, and then set sail for Rarotonga, accompanied by several natives of that island, whom he had met at Aitu- taki, and also by Papeiha, a'native convert. Not succeeding, however, after a week's search, in finding Rarotonga, they made for Mangaia, the inhabitants of which treated Papeiha and the teachers, who went on shore, so roughly that they could not with safety remain. They then proceeded to Atiu, another island of the group, where, some months before, two native teachers had been sent. These AVere found " in a most pitiable condition, having been stripped by the natives of every article of property, suffer- ing exceedingly from hunger, and greatly dis- heartened by their Avant of success." But it AA'as otherwise before Williams departed. The chief having come off to their vessel, one of the natives of Aitutaki took him aside, and told him of the wondrous change Avhich had taken place there — how the maraes Avei'e de- stroyed and the idols burned; at the same- time remonstrating Avith him on the folly of idol Avorship. The chief, wondering and per- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 27 plexed, not knowing wc^ll wliat to make of either his friend's intelligence or of liis arguments, remained on board the vessel all night. Next day, being Sabbath, he attended worship on board, and having heard Williams preach, was still more perplexed — returned and spent the whole night in conversation with the teachers and chiefs from Aitutaki — till at last he " saw clearly" and expressed his determination to cast off his idol gods, and worship the God of the Cliristians. On his return he proved himself sincere, by publicly renouncing the ancient su- perstitions; an example which was speedily fol- lowed by the whole of his subjects. He also accompanied Williams to Mitiaro and Wauke, two islands in the neighbourhood of which he was chief, and where, as in Atiu, the people " heai'd theWord with gladness" and abandoned their idolatry. Determined on making another attempt to discover Rarotonga, he again set sail in search of it; but for five days was unsuccessful. He says. We were baffled and perplexed by contrary wnds. Our provisions were nearly expended, and our patience all but exhausted, when, early ui the morning of the day on which we diBCOvered the island, the captain came to me, and said, " We must, Sir, give up the search, or we sliidl all be starved." I replied, that we would continue our course till eight o'clock, and, if we did not succeed by that time, we would re- turn home. This was an hour of great anxiety ; hope and fear alternately agitated my mind. I had sent a native to the top of the mast four times, and he was now ascending for the iif th ; and when we were within half-an-hour of relinquishing the object of our search, the clouds which enveloped its towering heights having been chased away by the heat of the ascenchng sun, he relieved us from our anxiety by shouting " Teic teic, tana fcnna, nciP'' — Here, here is the land we have been seeking ! Although Williams "rejoiced as one that findeth great spoil," yet, hearing the inhabi- tants of tlie island described by the Aitnta- kians, as " most treacherous and ferocious can- nibals," his joy was not nnmingled with solici- tude; " he wondered and held his peace, to wit, whether the Lord would make his journey prosperous or not." He first sent on shore Papeiha and Vahineino (a native of Aitutaki), who were kindly received by a large concourse of the islanders. They expressed not only thoir willingness, but their desire, that teachers should remain among them; and Makea the king went off himself to the ship, and conducted them on shore. But, during the night, the treatment given them liaving been the reverse of kind, and a leading chief having threatened serious mischief, they came off next morning to the ship. Williams was so much discouraged that he says, — We were about, for a time, to abandon this in- vituig field of labour, when our excellent friend Papeiha, instead of uniting with us in useless regrets, offered to remain alone at Rarotonga, provided we would Bend a coadjutor, whom he named, from Raiatea. We rejoiced in tJie proposition ; and, leaving his property in the vessel, after taking an afi'ectionatc farewell of us, this truly devoted man got mto a canoe and went on shore, carrying no- thing with him but the clothes he wore, his native Testament, and a bundle of elementary books. Two men and four women, natives of Rarotonga, whom we had brought from Aitutaki, had uU embraced Christianity some time before, and promised stcd- fastly to maintain their profession among their heathen countrymen. Thus Papeiha was not left desolate, but surrounded by a little company who were ardently attached to him, and wlio were indebted to his in- structions for all they knew of the rehgion of the Gospel. We left him with a prayer t'nut his httle flock might become the germ of a Christian Church in Rarotonga, and that by their instrumentaUty the incorruptible seed of the Word might be scattered throughout its numerous population. Nor v.cre we disappointed ; for, by tlie time Tiberio, Papeiha's colleague, arrived, which was about four months after our departure, he and his httle band had re- ceived many additions to their number. And when our esteemed friends, ]\Iessrs Tyerman and Bennet, visited the island, which was but little more than a year after its discovery, the whole population had renounced idolatry, and were engaged in erecting a place of worship, six hundred feet in length ! Williams sailed from Rarotonga to Raiatea, having been absent for about five weeks, and remained there for some months, diligently cultivating the field which he had been the first to break up. In a short time, however, he meditated a voyage to the Samoas, and other Islands, to which the Gospel had never yet been conveyed. " But just as this purpose had been formed," his biographer tells us, " it was frustrated, by the painful intelligence that their commerce to the colony, and with it their hope of retaining their vessel, was destroyed. Through the intervention of some interested merchants at Sydney, the governor had been persuaded to make certain fiscal regulations, Avhich materially reduced the value of all Poly- nesian produce; while, to complete the calamity and consummate his own disappointment, Wil- liams at the sametime received a letter from the London Directors, in which the buying of the vessel was condemned and his conduct cen- sured. Thus beset with difticnlties, he sum- moned a meeting of the chiefs, and after inge- nuously explaining to them the exact position of affairs, it was resolved to send her immediately to Sydney, laden with the most marketable pro- duce they could collect, with an order to sell both ship and cargo." W^illiams was greatly depressed by this blow. " Satan knows well," he exclaimed in a letter to the Directors, " that this ship was the most fatal weapon ever formed against hie interests in the great South Sea; and, therefore, as soon as he felt the eflects of its first blow, he has wrested it out of our hands." But he did not despair. He was determined on soon procuring another vessel, and did not doubt but that the Ijord, whose glory was in this matter the great object of his anxiety, would in due time " show him the way." ' 28 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Early in 182G he again sailed for the Ilervey Islands, in a ciiartered vessel, and in company with ISIr Pitman, who had been sent out by the Society to occupy the station at Rarotonga. Ho was received by the people with great en- tliusiasm : The report of his arrival off the island had been widely spread on the day previous to his landing, and had attracted to the beach tin immense assemblage, anxious to see and welcome the man wlio first brought to them the Gospel. As soon, therefore, as they leaped on shore, they were surrounded by the multi- tude, who would not permit them to pass, without having severally exchanged the English mode of salutation; and as with this new custom they had, unfortunately for their visitors, received the opinion, that the strength of the squeeze and the violence of the shake were the orthodox standards of sin- cerity, Mr Williams' hand at least was in no danger, for some time afterwards, of losing the im- l^rcssion. On the following Sabbath he preached in the open air to about four thousand people — the chapel not being capable of accommodating more tlian two thousand; and next day it having been determined,at a meeting of the chiefs and people, to erect a new and more commodious one, they immediately set to the work, and so great was their diligence, that in the space of seven weeks it was completed. Williams' next ob- ject was thoroughly to organize the congre- gation ; ^aul, with this view, we are told that he " distributed the baptized and those who were candidates for baptism into twenty- three classes — each containing from twenty-five to twenty-eight households — and two of the most serious and intelligent natives being ap- pointed over each class, to secure their regular attendance upon the catechetical instructions of the missionaries." He then turned his atten- tion to the establishment of a code of laM's; for in Rarotonga, as in the other islands of the Pacific, the only law previously known was the will of the chiefs. And so great was his moral influence over the chiefs, that when he explained to them the provisions of the code Mdiicli he had introduced at Raiatea, and urged tliem to adopt it, they at once acquiesced ; a circumstance which, as his judicious biographer remarks, may well excite surprise, " when the previous circumstances of the people are con- sidered, and when it is recollected that the supremacy of law would divest the chiefs of their most valued prerogatives, abolish poly- gamy, protect property, destroy despotism, and l^unish with heavy penalties crimes which had grown into customs." AVhile thus usefully occupied, however, in Rarotonga, he was not free from anxiety about Raiatea. When he left that island, he intended, within a short time, to resume his labours there. But this design was frustrated ; for no oppor.tunity to return had as yet been presented, lie who has " fixed the bounds of our habitations" detained him at Raro- tonga. Month succeeded to month, but not a ship approached its shores. With constantly increasing anxiety did the eye of the missionary, as each morn- ing dawned, and often through the day, sweep the horizon in quest of a sail. But every search only brought disappointment. The secluded spot which detained him a prisoner was then scarcely known, and seldom visited; and these considerations, together with hope long deferred, at length destroyed all ex- pectation of obtaining a passage to Raiatea. It soon appeared that there was a merciful pro- vidence in his detention. As may have been inferred from his history already told, Williams was a man of singular strength of purpose, and it was no ordinary obstacle that could detain him from anything on which, in his Mfister's cause, his heart was bent. But in no circum- stance of his life, perhaps, was this characteris- tic more strikingly exhibited than in the detei'- mination which he now formed, and speedily executed. No ship appearing to take him to Raiatea, he determined to build one for him- self; and " although he knew little of ship- building, and had scarcely any tools to work with, and the natives were wholly unacquainted with mechanical arts, he succeeded, in about three months, in completing a vessel between seventy and eighty tons burden ! " Williams was not a boaster ; and even of this work, this marvellous triumph over ditficnlties, he, with the modesty of true greatness, said but little; but of the prospects which it opened up his mind \yas full. For although the return to Raiatea was the primary object he had in the undertaking, it was not the chief one. That was rather the pro- curing of a vessel in which he might sail from island to island, teaching and jireaching " the Gosjiel of the grace of God" — a desire which previous disappointment had but rendered the more intense. And, accordingly, now that the desire was gratified, he longed to commence the work. Writing to a brother missionary, lie said : The Lord has already blessed our labours in every direction; and I trust that what has been done is only an earnest of what will be done, and as the first drops of abundance of rain. I shall write to the directors, and to Messrs James and East for their assistance. My hands, my head, and my heai't are more full of missionary work than ever. My grasp is great and extensive, and the prospect of success encouraging. I'll get help from my brethren, if I can ; if not, nothing shall deter me ; I will work single-handed. In March 1828, he left Rarotonga and sailed for Raiatea, v/here he arrived on the 26tli of April — exactly twelve months from thetimj! of his departure — and remained there till iSIay 1830, when his stated connection with that island was brought to a close. The remainder of his life was spent in missionary voyages ; and although he occasionally returned to Raiatea, he did so " rather as a visitor than as a resident." He had long before contemplated a voyage to the Samoas, but, as we have seen, the selling of the " Endeavour" had prevented it ; and, besides, as they were from eighteen hundred to two thousand miles distant, and the voyage >}i» BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 29 would require an absence of'at least six months, !Mrs Williiinjs had warmly opposed the jsro- ject. At Karotonga, however, Mrs Willi.rms, on recovering from a violent illness, which li;id threatened to prove fatal, told her husband tiiat she feared the affliction had bven sent because of her opposition in this matter, and that if she any longer withheld her consent, the Lord inii^ht remove her altogether. From this time (she continued) your desire has my full concurrence; andwiicn you go, I shall follow you every day with my prayers, that God may pre- serve you from danger, crown your attempt with suc- cess, and briu^ you back in safety. Accordingly, on the 24ih of May 1830, Vv'il- liams, accompanied by another devoted mis- sionai-y (Mr Barff ), sailed in his vessel, which he named "The Messenger of Peace," for the Samoas. Having resolved to visit the Ilervey Islands in their course, thev steered first for Man gala, and then for Atiu, Mauke, and Mitiaro ; in all of which tliey found the work of the Lord prospering. But a scene of deep affliction presented itself on their arrival at Uarotonga, where a fearful disease, then at its height, was spreading death and desola- tion through that once smiling laud. Many of the houses were left vi-ithout an inhabitant — all their former inmates having gone to the grave ; and, wherever Mr AVilliams dii-ected his steps, he was saluted either -n-itli the sounds of lamentation or by " walking skeletons," who, having heard of his ap- proach, strained their little streng-th, and crawled to the pathway, that they might once more see his face and seize his hand. Yet, amidst this dark and dreary spectacle, he was cheered by the appearance of many incipient endeuces of that spiritual prosperity which Rarotouga was so soon to enjoy. Having done what tiiey could to comfort the hearts of their brethren, and praying tliat "the Lord would repent him of the evil," and say to the angel that destroyed the people, "It is enougli," tiiey took their departure for Aitixtaki; and finding that, under tht; superintendence of the native teachers, the congregation there was in a flourishing condition, they sailed for the Samoas, and after a visit to the Wesley.an mis- sionaries at Tongatabu, reached Savaii, the largest and most imposing of the group, near the end of August. They arnved at an advantageous tune ; for, as the vessel approached the island, she was surrounded by natives in canoes, who brought the important intelligence, "that Tamafaigna, a despot wlio united the supreme spiritual with great political power, and whose boundless sway would have pre; cmted a most formidable barrier to the introduction of the Gospel, had just been slain." On receiving tliis news, they proceeded to Sapapalii, the residence of Alalietoa, the principal chief, who visited them on board, and gave tiu'm a cordial welcome; and next day they Umdod amid the acclamations of the people. The following two days were fraugh.t -.vith interest and importance. During that time, tlic purpose of his visit v/iis secured. While the people, generally, were prepared to receive the teachers, no barrier against it was raised by the chiefs. On the contrary, idalietoa, won by the representations of t'auea, a native whom Williams had brought with him from Tongatabu, and by the arguments and persuasions of the missionaries, acceded to tlieir wifhes, and gave a public pledge to protect the men, and Icam the mes- sage now l^rought to his shores. 'VMLiiams, therefore, deemed Savaii as won for the Saviour. A wide and eliectual door was opened for the Gospel ; and a dis- position evinced by all classes, which justified the hope that they would soon and universally receive it. " We remained on shore," he ^vrite3 to the Directors, " three days and two niglits, during which time although probably no European had been on shore before, we were treated with the utmost respect and kindness. A commodious building vras given up by the chiefs for our people to teach and worship in, with four good dwellings for themselves." And when they returned to the ship, nothing could exceed the expressions of regard which they received from the people, all of whom escorted them to the shore, and rent the air with the cry, " Great is our affection for you, English cliiefs ! " Williams was greatly deliglited l)y the result of his visit, and left Savaii " rejoicing and praising God." " There are two little words," said he, " which I always admire — tri/ and trust. You know not A^•hat you can or cannot effect till you tri/; and if you make your trials in the exercise of trust in God, mountains of imaginary difiiculties will vanish as yon approach them, and facilities will be afforded which you ne\-er anticipated!" Ou his way back he called at Rarotonga, where he found that the plague luid entii'ely disappeared — that the island had recovered its wonted prosperity, and that the " Gospel had free course, and was daily glorified." And having further visited Mangaia, Rurutu, Tahiti, and Eimeo, Williams again reached Raiatca at the beginnuig of September, and remained there for a year, to the great joy of the people. Two things then forced upon his attention the necessity of returning, for a season, to Eng- Lr.ul — viz., the health of ^Irs Williams, M-hich had been verj- seriously impaired, and the su- perintendence of the printing of a translation of the Scriptures, wdiich he, along with two brother missionaries, had nearly finished. But being determined, before setting out for England, to revisit the Samoas, he set sail for them on the lith of October 1832, clearing the har- bour of Raiatea, "amid the shouts and supplica- tions of the swarthy multitude who thronged the shore. The continuance of the voyage was in harmony ■nith its commencement. All things favoured them. After a deUghtful sail of eight hundred miles, on October 17th, they sighted Wanua, the most easterly island of tlie .Samoan group. As he did not visit this island on his former vo3'age, and it was two hundred and fifty miles from the residence of the teachers, l\Ir Williams little expected to ii'\ir and soo 80 nuich to gladden his heart. Dut his first visi- tors were nondnal Christians, and " We :itc sons of tiie Word," were the earliest salutations which broke upon his ear in the Samoan language. This delight- ful surprise wtis heightened by the information, that lai'ge numbers of the inhabitants of Savaii and Upolu 30 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. had embraced the Gospel. Here also he found seve- ral natives of Raivavae, who, many years before, had been drifted from theii- island ; but, having brought wth them a knowledge of the religion of Jesus, they had erected a chapel, had chosen a teacher, and were maintaining the worship of God, and singing the songs of Zion in this strange land. As they pursued their course, numerous visitors confirmed their first impressions, and convinced Mr Williams that a mighty work had already been effected throughout Samoa; and from almost every settlement he passed chiefs arrived who evinced an earnest desire for in- struction and teachers. On reaching Savaii, he found that the Lord had wrought great wonders there. He says : — I learned from the teachers that Malietoa, his brother, the principal chiefs, and nearly all the in- habitants of their settlement, had embraced Chris- tianity; that their chapel could accommodate six or seven hundred people, and that it was always full; and that in the two large islands of Savaii and Upolu the Gospel had been introduced into more than thirty villages. In addition to this, they stated that the great body of the people were only waiting my arri- val to renounce their heathen system. This was most delightful information, and drew forth tears of gratitude to God, for having, in so short a time, granted us such a rich reward. He spent some time in the island, confirming tlie good Avork ; and after visiting a number of the neighbouring islands — in all of which " the people heard the Word gladly," and " many- believed " — returned to Rarotonga. Thei"e he finished the translation of the Scriptures, and shortly' afterwards set out for England. During the voyage, he occupied tlie time in revising the translation anew, and in the preparation of other v/orks for the use of the islanders ; and on the 1 2th of Jiine 18.34, after nearly eighteen years absence, " the white cliffs of his beloved native land once more greeted and gladdened his eyes." ON SEEING A SUN-DIAL IN A CHURCH- YARD. Grey dial-stone, I fain would know What motive placed thee here, Where darkly opes the frequent grave, And rests the frequent bier. Ah ! bootless creeps the dusky shade Slow o'er thy figured plain; When mortal life has pass'd away, Time counts his hours in vain. As sweep the clouds o'er ocean's breast When shrieks the wint'ry wind, So doubtful thoughts, grey dial-stone. Come sweeping o'er my mind. I think of what could place thee here, Of those beneath thee laid. And ponder if thou Avert not raised In mock'ry o'er the dead. Nay ! man, Avhen on life's stage they fret, May mock his fellow-men; In sooth their sob'rest pranks afford Rare food for mock'ry then. But ah ! when pass'd their brief sojourn, When Heaven's dread doom is said, Beats there a human heart could pour Light mock'rics o'er the dead I-* The fiend unblest, who still to harm Directs his felon pow'r. May ope the book of grace to him Whose day of grace is o'er. But sure the man has never lived. In any age or clime. Could raise in mock'ry o'er the dead The stone that measures time. Grey dial-stone, I fain would know What motive placed thee here, Where sadness heaves the frequent sigh, And drops the frequent tear. Like thy carved plain, grey dial-stone, Grief's weary mourners be ; Dark sorrow metes out time to them, Dark shade marks time on thee. Yes ! sure Hwas wise to place thee here. To catch the eye of him To Avhom earth's brightest gauds appear Worthless, and dull, and dim. We think of time, when time has fled— The friend our tears deplore ; The God our light, proud hearts deny, Our grief-worn hearts adore. Grey stone, o'er thee the lazy night Passes untold, away, Nor is it thine at noon to teach When fails the solar ray. In death's dark night, grey dial-stone, Cease all the works of men, In life, 'if Heaven withholds its aid, Bootless then- Avorks and vain. Grey dial-stone, Avhile yet thy shade Points out those hours are mine, While yet at early morn I rise, And rest at day's decline; Would that the Sun that formed thine His bright rays beam'd on me — That I, thou aged dial-stone, Might measure time like thee. Hugh Miller. MAN'S RELATION TO THE DIVINE LAW. BY JOHN BROAVN, D.D., EDINBURGH. In a former article, it was attempted to show, Avith as much brevity and clearness as possible, that, whether Ave consider its principles its PRECEPTS, or its SANCTIONS, tlie divine law is " holy" — both "jtmt and good." It is a matter of very deep interest to every- one of us to understand Avell the relation which Ave bear to this holy, just, and good laAv; for to it we do bear, to it every intelligent being in the universe bears, a relation ; and our most important interests are dependant on that re- lation. There are multitudes Avho Avould fain have nothing to do Avith this law; they would fain have it abolished — annihilated. IMany practically deny, some theoretically question, or even deny, its obligation on them. But the laAV is as stable and immutable as its author — God. Indeed, the law is God commanding, prohibiting, threatening. Men may forget it, but it never forgets them; they may put it aAvay from them, but it keeps its hold ; they may renounce its authority, but they cannot MAN'S RELATION TO THE DIVINE LAW. 31 escape from its grasp ; tlioy may deny its obli- gation, but tlicy cannot destroy it. They may deny it now, but they will not always be able to deny it — they will be made to feel it in its painful oii'ects. There are no sceptics ia the invisible world. 1 1 is of great importan ce that we should clearly iindeistand tiie relation in which innocent man stood to this law — the relation in which fallen man stands to this law — the i-elatioa in which restored man stands to this law. To innocent man, this law was the charter by which he held the fair inheritance of divine favour bestowed on him. Tiie principle of the original economy was: "Do this, and live." Obedience to the law was the stipulated means of securing the divine favour, and of obtaining higher manifestations of this favour. It would have brought him into, and kept him in, a justified state ; and, both as a statement of duty, and incentive to duty, presented to a holy mind predisposed to holiness, it tended to make holy man more and more holy. The law was then strong to justify, to sanctify, to save. With regard to fallen man, his relation to this holy, just, and good law, has undergone a most melancholy change. He has broken the law; and he is, so far as all influence but divine is concerned, invincibly indisjjosed to keep it. Tlie princijjle of the economy which sin brings man under is : " The wages of sin is death." Tlie law says to tiie sinner: " Thou hast disobeyed, thou must, thou shalt, be punished ;" and it says also: " Obey, obey perfectly every one of my requisitions. Every neglect, every violation, brings along with it a new sentence of condem- nation— sinks thee deei)erin guilt and in perdi- tion." But not one word of promise, no ground of hope, does the holy, good law offer to the sinner. It would not be a holy, just, and good law, if it did. To the sinnei-, tlien, the law ean- lot be the means of justification. No ; " by the deeds of the law no flesh can be justified," for this ])lain reason : " By the law is the conviction of sin." Man is a sinner, and the law con- demns him because he is a sinner; how, then, can it justify him ? I'nt this is not all. To the sinner the law cannot be the primary means of sanct'ifu-at'wn. For this purpose, too, " it is weak through the flesh." It cannot remove the en- mity which conscious guilt generates and per- petuates. It merely authoritatively commands us to do what we are invincibly disinclined to do ; and forbids us to do what we are strongly inclined to do, under the most fearful sanc- tions; and in this way, through our depravity, it either rouses our depi'aved j)ropensities into a state of exasperated activity, or smites our powers of spiritual action with the torpor of despair. With regard to restored man, ho stands, too, in a peculiar and most important relation to the holy, just, and good law of (iod. He is de- livered from its curse throuHi union to Hini who " has redeemed us from the curse, having become a curse for us." " There is no con- demnation to them who are in Christ Jesus;" and the law is not with him at all the means of justification, nor the ))rimary means of sancti- fication. He is " justrified freely by God's grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." To him " eternal life is the gift of God, through Jesus Christ the Lord;" and as to sanctification, " the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, given to him" by the faith of the truth, is the spring of holy obedience. Being " not without law to God, but under the law to Christ," lie walks " at liberty, keeping the com- mandments;" not doing that he may live, but doing because he lives, and living because he believes; finding, in tlie holy, good law of God, " a light to his feet and a lamp to his path ;" a stimulus when indolent — a guide when per- plexed— a constant source of delightful con- templation and powerful motive, as an exhi- bition of the wisdom, holiness, and benignity of Him '' whose he is, and whom he serves." Such is a brief statement of the relation in which in- nocent, fallen, restored man stands to the divine law. To the two classes into which my readers, and into which, indeed, the whole human race, are divided as to their relation to the law, I conclude with offering a few affectionate exhor- tations. All are by nature related to the law in the second of- the ways I have been describing; "all have sinned" — all have incurred the curse — all are under the authority and obligation of the violated law; and all who have not been de- livered from this state, by the atoning sacrifice and sanctifying Spirit of Christ, are so related to the law still. Not a few of the readers of these pages may belong to this class. Are there not some of them who know they are sinners, and who know, too, that they are unpardoned, un- sanctified sinners? To sucli I say. Oh! think of your wretched, perilous condition, every hour becoming more perilous and wretched ! Seek not to deny the fact that you are sinners. " If you should justify yourself your own mouth would condemn you; if you say you are perfect, it also proves you perverse." Do not attemj)t to apologize, or excuse, or justify your conduct in violating the law. No excuse will bear exa- mination at the bar of your own calm conscien- tious judgment now. IloWjthen, will it bear to be urged at the bar of divine justice hereafter ? " When he luinishes you, you will have nothing to answer him." No, you will be sjieechless. Do not say the law was too strict in its requisi- tions, too severe in its sanction; we have seen tiiat the law is cveiy way worthy of its in- finitely perfect Author. Do not sjicak of tlie weakness of your nature; that is but anotiier name for its depravity. Do not harbour the thought, that you can be saved without the law being satisfied — without your being both justified and sanctified. Do not attempt, for it 32 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. is impious find vain, to obtain either the one or the other hy works of righteousness which you may suppoyc you can do. Do not sup- pose that you can, in any degree, dissolve the connection between you and the law. No, you are Ijound to it by a chain indissoluble as the decrees of the Eternal. Do not suppose that you can have the law in any degree altered. When God changes, then, and not till then, can the law change; for what is the law but a de- clai'ation of God's mind and will as to what is right; and " he is of one mind, and who can ehanoe him ?" Acknowledge the excellence and authority of the law. Acknowledge your own inconceivable folly and wickedness in vio- lating it, and in being opposed to it in your carnal minds. Instead of seeking to have your connection with the law dissolved, or to convert it into an instrument of justification, seek to have your relation to the law changed. That can take place only by a change taking place either in the law or in you. The former is absolntely impossible. The created universe may be an- nihilated, but the law of God cannot change. Oh ! dream not — it is a dangerous, if continued it will be a fatal, dream — of its demands, either preceptive or sanctionary, being lowered. The change must take place in you; you must " re- pent and believe the Gospel;" you must change your mind respecting God; you must believe the truth Avith respect to Jesus Christ; you must, in good earnest, believe that God is the immaculately holy, the infinitely kind being he appears to be " in the face of Christ Jesus." Be- lieving the truth as it is in Jesus— believing that "God is in Christ reconciling the world to himself, seeing lie made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we miglit be made the righteousness of God in liim" — believing that" he has redeemed us from the curse, having become a curse in our room" — believing that he hath '•taken away sin by the sacrifice of himself" — you shall be " justified freely through the re- demption that is in Christ Jesus;" and, " being justified by faith, ye shall have peace with God, through whom we have received the reconci- liation." You will then be reconciled to God and to God's law ; you will learn, indeed, to count it " holy, just, and good," and rejoice that it is "magnified and made honourable" in the finished work of your Lord; and loving God, you will be taught, by his grace, to " deny ungodli- ness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righ- teously, and godly in the present world," while you are " looking for the blessed hope, the glori- ousa;i])earing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave hinisclf for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify us unto himself a pecu- liar people, zealous of good works." And thus " what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the fiesh," will be accomplished tlirougli " God sending his own Son in the like- tross of sinful ticsh and for sin." Through this wonderful manifestation of the united glories of divhio holiness and love, set forth iu the word of the truth of the Gospel, understood and believed by you " the righteousness of the law will be fulfilled in you, walking not after the flesh, but after the Spirit ;'' and, in the beauties of a consistent, holy life, you will shov/ forth the glories of the character and law of Him who hath " called you out of darkness into his marvellous light." Such is the blessed re- sult when a deep conviction of the righteous- ness of the law, and the impossibility of finding either justification or sanctification by it, leads the sinner to pardon, hope, holiness and heaven, by leading him to Him who is " the end of the law for righteousness to every one that bc- lieveth." Yes — So fares it with the sinner when he feels A growing dread of vengeance at his heels; His conscience, like a glassy lake before, Lashed into foamy waves, begins to roar. The Law, grown clamorous, though silent long, Arraigns him — charges him with every wrong ; Asserts the riglits of his offended Lord — And " Death or restitution " is the word. The last impossible, he fears the first; And having well deserved, expects the worst. Then welcome refuge, and a peaceful home ! — Oh ! for a shelter from the wrath to come. " Crush me, ye rocks, ye falling mountains hide, Or bury me in ocean's angry tide. The scrutiny of these all-seeing eyes I dare not " — " And you need not," God replies; " The remedy you want I freely give ; This Book sliall teach you — read, believe, and live." 'Tis done !■ — the raging storm is heard no more; Mercy receives hiiu on her jjeaceful siiore; And Justice, guardian of the dread command, Drops the red vengeance from his willing hand. And what is the practical result? A soul redeemed demands a life of praise; Hence the complexion of his future days — Hence a demeanovir holy and unspeck"d, And the world's hatred as a sure efiect. CowrER. I have left myself room to say only a word or two to those whoserelation and feelings to the law have been hap])ily changed, " through sanctifi- cation of the Spirit and belief of tlie truth" — to which, I trust, not a few of my readers belong. Show gratitude for deliverance from the curse of the law; by cheerful obedience to its precepts make it evident that you do iiideed count the law holy, just, and good ; — that you delight to contemplate it, as exemplified in the all-perfect character of your Lord and Saviour, Avho ful- filled all righteousness ; to study it in the writ- ings of the holy prophets and apostles; and to reduce your studies to practice, in the cultiva- tion of every holy disposition — in the perfor- mance of every prescribed duty. Oh ! beware of giving the. slightest ground to the world ta suppose that the faith of these truths, the en- joyment of these privileges, has any tendency to make men say, " Let us continue in sin that grace may abound." J\Iake it evident that " the liberty wlierewith Christ has made you free," is not a liberty to sin, but liberty in holiness. A VISIT TO JERUSALEM. 33 " Walk at liberty, keeping his coinmandments." " Serve him without fear, in lighteeiisiie.sa and holiness all the days of your life." Having died and been buried, and raised again in your Surety, who died by sin under the curse of the law once, but who now liveth for ever, by the power of God, made exceeding glad in the light of his Father's countenance, '' reckon yourselves, by this death and resurrection, dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord ;" and, " let not sin reign in your mortal body, that yc should obey it in the lusts thereof; neither yield ye your members as in- struments of unrighteousness unto sin ; but yield yourselves unto God as those who are alive from the dead, and your members as in- struments of righteousness to God; for sin shall not have dominion over you ; for ye are not under the law, but under grace."* Improve the high advantages of your new situation — act up to your principles and your privileges; and " whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, wliat- soever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, whatsoever things arc commanded in the holy, just, and good law, think on tiiese things." Let your holy, hapi)y lives pi-oclaim, " His yoke is easy, his burden is light ;" " his commandments are not grievous — his law is holy, just, and good." A VISIT TO JERUSALEM.t We rose very early to set out on our journey to Jerusalem. I felt a feverish restlessness and anxiety to reach that city, which had been asso- ciated in my mind from childhood with all that is sacred and venerable ; and I often said wthin my- self as we rode along : " Is it possible that this very day my feet shall stand within the gates of Jeru- salem 'i " Our route lay for some time through a fertile plain, which had some appearance of cultivation; there being several fields of millet in it. But the farther we advanced on our journey the more barren and desolate the country became. My mind was alter- nately occupied with two very dilTereut pictures. At one time I thought of the days when all the male population of Israel went up " three times in a year " to Jerusalem; " whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord." In all proba- bility six of the tribes, whose possessions lay nortli- ward of where I then was, travelled by this very road ; the party increasing at every stage of their journey, " company by coniininy," until they all " appeared before God in Zion." As 1 thought of this goodly assembly, all animated by one spirit, and mtent on one common object, receiving each new accession of brethren with friendly greetings, and beguiling the way with social converse, the melancholy contrast • Rom. vi. 1-13. t From " A Visit to mv iMtherland, in 1813." By R. H. Ilerschcll. London, J. IJnwin. presented by the present state of the country forcibly recalled the opposite picture, as delineated in the writings of the prophets. Nay, I should not say the picture was recalled — the very reality was itself before me. " The highways " are indeed " desolate " and " he w;v3te;" instead of being trodden by a joy- ous company of Israel's sons, a few strangers from distant lands come to behold the judgments of the Lord, and to " say, when they see the plagues of that land, that it is not sown nor bearcth, nor any grass groweth therein : M'hcrefore hath the Lord done thus in this land ? What mcancth the heat of this great anger ? " The marks of the curse are indeed upon the land. Sometimes a green spot will be seen at a distance, giving the idea of fertility; but when approached, it is found to bear only the tokens of the original de- nunciation— thorns and briers. We rode on hour after hour, amid increasing deso- lation. The latter part of the way hcs over a succes- sion of mountainous ridges, where there is no regular road ; but the horses clamber up the best way they can, sometimes over smooth slabs of stone, and some- times through heaps of loose stones. My impatience to see the holy city increased every hour. As we chmbed up each ridge, I expected that from its summit I should behold Jerusalem; but I was doomed to many disappointments, as summit after summit only gave to view another range of hills to be sur- mounted. It forcibly reminded me of the journey to the heavenly Jerusalem, which is a steep and difficult path, presenting one mountain after another to be overcome ; but we know that at last we shall reach the city of God ; and should not the certainty of this reconcile us to all the difficulties of the way .» ^^'hile on this tedious journey I was made fully to understand the comparison of the Psalmist : " As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth, even for ever." At length the long expected moment arrived: about noon we reached the summit of the hill Scopus, and all at once Jerusalem burst upon my view ! The feelings of such a moment cannot be described ; they can only be faintly imagined by those who have not experienced them. Every Christian traveller speaks of the feeling as overpowering; what, then, was it to me, as at once a Christian and a Jew ! The scene of the world's redemption — the metropolis of the country of my fatliers — " the city of the great King I " I could, in some faint measure, realize the feelings of my blessed Lord and Master, when " he beheld the city, and wept over it." But here, as everywhere else in the Holy Land, you are indebted to association alone. That which actually meets your view is a comparatively modem eastern city ; her bulwarks and her ]ialnce3 are those of the false prophet. The Lord has abhor- red his sanctuary; he has given it to be "trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of the (Tcntiles be fulfilled." How near this may be, who can tell? We went first to the Dam.ascus gate, but were not admitted; we then went round to the Jufi'a gate, and 34 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. by it I entered the Holy City. My feet stood "within the gates of Jerusalem ; " a pilgriiii and a stranger I entered the city of my fathers, " Jerusalem ■which is in bondage with her children;" yet, through the great mercy of God, a citizen of " the Jerusalem which is above." When thinking of its former magnificence, and viev.'ing it ii'ow, how appropriate do the words of Jeremiah ajjpear ! " How doth the city sit solitarj', that vv"as fiiil of people ! how is she become as a iridow ! she that was gi-eat among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary I The vrays of Zion do mourn, because none come to the solemn feasts." The vrord of the Lord went forth against Jerusalem — ^that v/ord which is " a fire, and a hamnier that breaketh the rock in pieces." He said by the Prophet J.iicah that '■ Jeru- salem shall become heaps;" and it has been literally fulfilled. The modern city is built on the heaps of rubbish accumulated by the ruins of ancient build- ings. So great are these hea,ps, that in digging for the foundation of a house, they have to go to an im- mense depth before they can get to the solid rock. On this accoiTut a great many of the ])resent houses are built on arches. The glory and magnificence of Jerusalem are gone ; she is in bondage, as well as her children. The jealousy of her Turkish possessors is ever on the watch, lest anything should seem to in- terfere with their despotic sway; and any material change in her condition, while they continue to have the rule, appears impossible. "What now remains of the glory of IMount Zion ? Nothing. Its regal splendour, its hallovred sacred- ness are gone. " Therefore shall Zion for your salce be ploughed as a field," was the word of the mspired prophet to " the heads of the house of Jacob, and princes of the house of Israel;" and there is now a field of barley growing on Zion, as a testimony that the word of the Lord standeth sure. "Where now are her bulwarks and her palaces, which the Psalmist pointed out to the consideration of the faithful? They are swept away with the besom of destruction. The last denunciation uttered by the Prophet Micah has also been fulfilled — that "the mountain of the house " should become " as the high places of a forest." This latter expression signifies the places where the worship of a false religion was carried on ■ the " high places " of the heathen, in the prophet's days, being always in a wood or grove. This, also has been fulfilled to the very letter. The Mosque of Omar, the sanctuary of the false prophet, occupies the place where the temple of the Lord once stood- and, as if to fulfil the prophecy more minutely, the Mohammedans have planted around it cypress and orange trees; so thaj, looking at it from a distance, it indeed appears " like the high places of a wood " or forest. THE JE"\V IN JERUSALEM. The Jew should be seen at Jerusalem. There, if the missionary or the political economist can make little out of him, he is at leiist a striking specimen of man. In the dark-robed form that lingers thoughtfully among the tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, or bends with black turban to the gi'ound at the '• Place of Wailing," you seem to behold a destiny incarnate. The fierce dark eye and noble brow — that medallic profile that has been transmitted unimpared through a thousand generations and a thousand climates; these are na- ture's own illustrations, and vindicate old history. Thou son of a perverse, but mighty generation ; thou chosen, yet accursed of Heaven; homeless throughout the world, yet a dweller in all its cities ; treasurer of the di-isss man worships, yet despised by its bigots; tliou inhabitest the proudest palaces, and the most sordid huts; thou art welcomed in the cabinets of kings, and hooted in the haunts of the destitute. Thy destiny, that has been so far fulfilled, must yet be gloriously completed. Thy wanderings over the world sliall have an end, like the wandering in the desert, by -which thou wert first disciplined, and made lit for freedom : — " And we shall see ye go,— hear ye return Repeopling the old solitudes." - Warhurtoii''s Crescent and the Cross. THE CHILDREN OF MISSIONARIES— THE DISADVANTAGES OF THEIR POSITION.* The circumstances of the children of missionaries are: peculiarly trying, and such as should naturally and strongly commend them to the sjaiipathy and the prayers of Christians. These children are always exposed to a greater amount of physical suffering than children in our native land. They are the vic- tims of some of the same causes which work the early prostration and premature death of missionaries them- selves. They are exotic plants. The climate is generally more or less uncongenial, and often decided- ly hostile, to the children even of foreigners. JIany of the lands to which our missionaries go are often scourged by " the pestilence that walketh in dark- ness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day;" and the children of missionaries are sometimes num- bered among its victims. And some of our mission- aries are situated where medical relief, in case of the sickness of thek children, cannot be obtained. Our ovm first-bom died suddenly at Tabreez, of a disease which might at least have been greatly mitigated by judicious prescription; but there was no physician who could understand ovv language, within four hundred miles of us ; and we were in similar circum- stances during the sickness and death of our third child. The children of missionaries, also, necessarily suffer the privation of many privileges enjoyed by children in our native land. These privations are more and greater than can be told. What, for instance, axe the intellectual advantages enjoyed by these children ? In general, they have no school, no teacher, and no instruction, except the very limited amount which the missionary himself communicates, during the few moments which he is able, with the utmost diffi- culty, and but very irregularly, to redeem from his pressing care and toil for the salvation of the perish- ing around him. • From Perkins' Eight Years' Residence in Persia. THE CHILDREN OF MISSIONARIES, &c. 35 The childron of missionaries are most alarmingly exposed to moral contamination. So far as residence is concerned, tliey are upon alevel with the bsnighted around them. Nothin;^ but the single taper of the missionary's own example shines upon their path- way. All else is deep darkness. They feel nothing of the pure moral atmosphere of enlightened Chris- tian lands. Every man, every child whom they meet, is a sower of tares. They caimot step from their parents' dwelling without being in peril. The peril is nmch nearer. The domestic — the nurse, v/ho enters the missionary's abode to assist the sick mother, brings with her the deadly poison ; and ere he is awiire, there is painful evidence that it has been too successfully admmistcrcd to his unsuspectmg childi-en. It is not long ago, that a painful case occurred, in a pious English family in Persia. The parents had, with much pains-taking, secured the services of a Mohammedan domestic, whose kind attention to their little one for some time created in them only increased confidence and satisfaction. But how were they surprised and shocked, on one day finding their little girl, then four years old, kneeling with her face towards Mecca, and lisping the devo- tions of the false prophet I Such constant and appalling exposure of the child- ren of missionaries, appeals with an eloquence which nothmg else can, for the prayers of Christians, that the Lord, who alone can afford them effectual succour, would shield them from threatening destruction. The fact that so many judicious missionaries deem it to be their duty to part with their children, and send them home, for preparation to obtain a comfortable subsistence, and to be useful in future life, and for security from hostile influences, speaks volumes on this subject. Column for tije Fouucj. THE SABBATH-DAY. " Kemembcr tlie Sabhath-day, tokeepitholy." — Exod.xx.8 I PARE say yoti have often heard your minister say this at church on a Sabbath ; but perhajis you have never tnought what it means. Well, if you will listen, I will tell you the meaning of it. We are connnanded by (rod to "remember tlie Sabbath-day." Whose day is the Sabbath ? It is God's own day, and we are told to keep it holy. The word Sabbath means rest. Now when God made the world, and all in it, he was six days in making all, and on the seventh day he " rested.^'' The seventh day was the same as the Sabbath-day, and God rested on that day, to show peoj)le that he wished them to rest also. By rextimi I mean stopjiing from all week-day work — from all play, and from everything that belongs to this world. God has given us six days ui the week in which we may be busy at work, and be industrious about worldly things ; but (iod says that the Sabbath is his own day ; and that then people must do no work, but nmst keep it holy. What does keeping the Sabbatli hoi;/ mean ? It means that on the Sabbath-day we are to do no- thing but what belongs to (iod and our souls. ^\'« arc to think of God, and not of this world; wc are to thuik of our souls, and not of our week-day busi- ness. A\'e are to remember it is God's own day, and therefore we must not take away any of the time of that day for our own pleasure. Little children must remembci that the Sabbath is God's own day, and they must not rob (lod by taking some of his day for playing and making a noise. Suppose that on some grand day you had a holiday given to you, on which you were told you might play and make as nmch noise as you liked. Now, suppose that while you were very happy at play, your master or mistress called you in, and made you come to school, and learn some lessons — would you not feel angry at being robbed of some of your holiday ? I am sui-e you would. But how often do you rob God of some of his day ? How often do little boys and gu-ls play, and make a noise on Sabbath, just the same as on other days, and tlius take some of God's o>vn day for amusing themselves y Oh! this makes God very angi-y; and we cannot think that such chikken will ever go to heaven. O no ! children who love (lOd will not play on the Sabbath, because it is God's day; but what time they have over from school-time they will spend quietly and in a holy maimer. When they go to church, they will pray that they may go to get a blessing there; they will not try to be thinking of their play and other things while in church ; but they will listen, and seek to understand what the minister says. And when they go home they will go quietly, remembering it is God's day; they will not play and idle away their time with others as they go ; but they wall go home in a quiet manner, and when they get there, they will get some good Sabbath book, or their Bibles, and read them. O how I wsh there were more cliildrcn who kept God's day holy ! Do you not wish to keep holy the Sabbath-day ? If you do, you must pray to God to help you to do so, and to make you love huu ; for unless you love God, you will not wish to keep his day holy. If you love a friend very much, you ivj to do everything you can to please hiju; and you do not mind hoAV much time you spend in doing a kindness for that friend. Now, you must love God; you must pray that you may low him ; and then you will have a pleasure in serving liim. The Sabbath w ill then be your happiest day, because you will be able to hear more about God and Jesiis than on any other day in the week. Why do children think the Sabbath a dull day? I Why do they not hke going to church and Sabbath school ? It is because t-liey liate what is good, and do not love God. If they loved God, they would love his day; if they loved God, they would love to hear all they could about hun. But they love then- play, and everything more than (^od; and therefore they do not feel happy to hear about good things. Oh ! poor unhappy children, how I pity them ! If they do not love God's day in this world, they never can go to heaven, where "it is Sabbath always. In heaven it is always Sabbath; and that is what makes the good people in heaven so happy. In heaven they are praishig God always; tliey are singing sweet hymns of praise to Jesus, and thanking him for hav- ing died for them, and for ha^-ing washed their sins away with his precious blood. In heaven their greatest happiness is praising and lowng God, and thinking how khid he has been to them. Now, do you think that those children who do not love the Sab- bath here, will love it in heaven ? Do you think that those children who do not like praying to (Jod here, will like i)r:using him in heaven 'f O no ! such happi- ness can never be theu-s. Our Sabbaths here should be days on which we are particularly preparing for heaven. Then, if we arc not prepared for heaven in this world, we cannot hope ever to got there. Oh ! my dear children, go and pray that you may love God and his dav in "tliis world, and that you may grow in grace on his Sabbath-days here l)elow, so that when vou die you may join that hai)py family above where it is Sabbath every day, and where all is happhiess, holiness, and love. — Bevan's Sermons for CUUdreu. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ©ailg Breati. FRIDAY. " Who will show us any good ? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenai:ce upon us." — Vs. iv, 6. God .ill my gloomy path shall cheer. And b;inish ev'ry painful fear That can my soul invade : Should rarth and hell against me join, I'he beamings of his love divine Would give me sovereign aid. Let our house be a prison — a dungeon ; but let the light of God's countenance shine in at some little opening, and that shall make it a palace — a court — a heaven ! Let our bread be the bread of affliction, and our tears be our drink; but let the light of his countenance shine upon us, and that bread shall be changed into the food of angels, and that water turned into ivine ! If God be our enemy, nothing can secure us ; if God be our friend, nothing can hurt us. Let Pharaoh be behind, the Red Sea before, the mountains on eacii side — the Israelites can still find a way; and when there is no otlier way to escape a danger, a Christian can go by heaven! — Old Author. SATURDAY. "Let your light shine before men." — Matt. v. 16. So let your lips and lives express The holy (Gospel you profess ; That men may see your virtues shine. And own the doctrine is divine. What badge, what cognizance hast thou, to make it knoTim that thou art God's ? A human nature — ■ Gospel ordinances and pri\'ileges ? and so have thousands had who are now in hell. Wherein is thy likeness and similitude unto God ? Possibly, thou resemblest him in thy knowledge and under- standing; and hast a great measure of wisdom and prudence bestowed upon thee : possibly, thou resem- blest him likewise in thy beneficence, and art kind and charitable, and heljiful to those who stand in need of thee. It is well. But yet this is not that image that God will own thee by. He requires a nearer resemblance of himself, in thy holiness and purity; and whatsoever else thou mayest think to produce will stand thee in no stead; for "without holiness no man shall see God." — Ilop/.ins. " Keep the Sabbath-day to sanctify it. as the Lord thy God hath commanded thee." — Deut. v, 12. Ye vain cngrosshig thoughts, away ! The Lord demands our hearts this day; From earthly trifles bids us fly. And seek the glories of the sky: M'e come, O Lord, at thy decree, To yield our willing hearts to thee. Attend diligently on ordinances; yet beware of putting ordinances in God's stead. Hath not thy heart said, " I will go hear such a man, and get com- fort and get strength ? " No wonder that you feel yourself weak, barren, and unfruitful. How should means and ministers help thy soul, except the Lord help ? Christ himself keeps the key of his wine cellar. His ministering servants cannot so much as make you drink when you come to his house ; and therefore, poor soul, stop not short of Christ, but press through all the crowd of ordinances, and ask to see Jesus, to speak to Jesus, and to touch him; so will virtue come out from him to tliee. — Gurnall', JIONDAY. " In everything give thanks "—1 TuEss. v. 18. Either God's hand preserves from pain, Or, if I feel it, heals again ; From Satan's malictt shields my breast. Or over -rules it for the best. To bless God for mercies is the way to increase them ; to bless him for miseries is the way to remove them. No good lives so long as that which is thank- fully improved ; no evil dies so soon as that which is patiently endured. — Di/er. TUESDAY. " Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven." — Matt. vi. 20. Lord, draw my best affections hence. Above this world of sin and sense ; Cause them to soar above the skies. And rest not till to thee they rise. O precious treasure I— a treasure not liable to cor- ruption by moths or rust — a treasure which none can steal. Never did any kingdom aflford such a pre- cious treasure, nor a treasure of such variety ; for " he that overcometh shall inherit all things." This is the peculiar treasure of those who inherit the kingdom of heaven. Now they are rich in hope; but then they will have their riclies in hand. Now all things are theirs in respect of right; then all shall be theirs in possession. They may go for ever through Immanuel's Land, and behold the glory and riches thereof, with the satisfj'ing thought that all they see is their own. It is a pity those should ever be uneasy under the want of earthly good things, who may be sure they shall inherit all things at length. — Boston. WEDNESDAY. " Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righ- teousness."— AIait. v. 6. Dear fountain of delight unknown ! No longer sink below the brim; But overflow, and pour me down ', A living and life-giving stream ! For sure, of all the jilants that share The notice of thy Father's eye. None proves less grateful to his c.iro, Or yields him meaner fruit than L Oh ! blessed hunger, that ends always in fulness. I am sorry that I can but hunger, and yet I would not be full ; for the blessing is promised to the hun- gry. Give me more food; but so as I may hunger more. Let me hunger more, and I know I shall be satisfied. — Hall. THURSDAY. " Be content with such things as ye have." — Heb. xiii. 5. Art thou a sinner, soul ? (lie said), Then how canst thou complain ? How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd With everlasting pain ? If thou of murm'ring wouldst be cured, Compare thy griefs with mine ; Think what my love for thee endured. And thou wilt not repine. I should marvel that the covetous man can still bo poor, when the rich man is still covetous, but that I see a poor man can be content, when the contented man is only rich ; the one wanting in his store, while the other is stored in his wants. I see, then, we are not rich or poor liy what we jwssess, but by what we desire. For he is not rich tliat hath much, but he that hath enougli : nor he poor that hath but little, but he that wants more. If God, then, make me rich by store, I will not impoverish mj'self by covetous- ness ; but if he make me poor by want, I will enrich myself by content. — Warwick. Edinburgh: Printed and Published by John Johnstone, Hunter Square. London: K. GnooMnniDOE .V Sons, Glasgow: J. R. M'Nair & Co.; and to be had by order of all Booksellers throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST JESUS. ^ Sermon. BY THE REY. THOMAS GUTHRIE, EDINBURGH. "The love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." — Rom. viii. 39. 37 There are many laws in nature affecting, in some cases, one department of creation, and in sonic another — ruling the tides of ocean, the cli- mates of different lands, the verdure and varied vegetation of the globe — affecting the being and wellbeing of every creature that inhabits earth, from man himself to the meanest worm which crcejjs upon its surface. Now, while there are many laws in nature, one there is which stands, like Saul among the people, pre-eminent ! There is one gi-eat and primary law of nature — one, so far as we know, of universal ageiicy and amazing power! We believe all creation to be so skilfully contrived, that if you could derange but one (the meanest law), it woidd in time de- range the whole; just as if you took a stone (any stone) out of an arch, it would in time bring down the whole building; or, if you broke or injured any one tooth of any one wheel in an intricate machine, it would affect, in course of time, the motions of them all; but, drive the keystone from a 1)ridge, and the entire arch tumbles into immediate ruin. Put your finger on the mainspring of a watch^ — touch the pendulum of a time-jiiece — they stop; but break that spring, or remove that pendulum, and the whole machinery rushes into instant confusion! The law of which I speak — the law of gravita- tion— is, so to speak, the mainspring of the universe. There is nothing it does not govern. It governs all the elements of our earth, and reigns over all creation ! liy that law the clouds are floated in the sky, and the mariners' bark upon the sea; it rolls on the river's flood, and feeds the sea with streariis; it fills up val- leys, and levels mountains — norwitliout it could the covenant with Noah be kept; it bends the rainlxjw in the heavens, and confines the sea within its ancient bounds ! Nor is this law only terrestrial — it is celestial too; and it is a remarkal)le fact, that the same law wJiich gives its form to a tear-drop, gives its form also to tiie blazing sun. The same law that causes the rain to fall on our thii'sty flc'lds, jire- serves tiie jilanets in their sjilieres. Abolish this law, and the entire fabric of creation would go all to pieces, and, amid the rush of Iiurning suns and blazing stars, everything would jiass into chaotic confusion. That law binds the atoms into rocks, the rocks into massive mountains, the masses of earth into this solid globe, this globe to its centre sun, yonder sun with its train of planets, to tlie general fabric of crea- tion— keeping and ])reserving all in beautiful and harmonious order ! Now, that law, so ■wonderful in the material universe, has its No. 4. counterpart in the spiritual — I mean the power of love ! This love binds all the members of (lod's family to each other, while it binds them all to him. And, notwithstanding the many minor differences among Christians here (and every difference is a point of rejjulsion), yet love draws them, love binds them all together. And if every congregation were what it should be, this law woidd be seen on earth in beautiful and beneficent operation; it would bind all the members into one congregation, all the congre- gations into one Church, and all the Churches, whatever their governmeut or name, into one body, of which Jesus is at once the heart of love and the head of wisdom ! "We don't see that as Ave should do here on earth; and the reason is, because there is sin in the Churcli on earth. That is a deranging force. There is no sin in heaven ; and to heaven, therefore, we must raise our eyes to see this law in pure and perfect power. There love binds together all the ransomed saints. There is no variance there — no jealousy, no discord, no backbiting, no strife, "i'he clash of arms and the confusion of tongues are never heard in lu'aven. Love binds the ransomed saints to each other — binds saints to angels, angels to archangels, archangels to cherubim, cherubim to seraphim, and the whole to God! Love is the sceptre that i-ules in lieaven. It is the law of heaven — the veiy God of heaven is love. Every eye there beams with love — every heart beats with love, and every word is spoken in tones of love. No wonder Paul, in his most beautiful eulogium on love, speaking of the graces, proiu)unced love the greatest of all! " Whether there be propliecies, they siiall fail; whether tlu're be tongues, they shall cease; wliether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. Charity never faileth. Now abidetii faith, hojie, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." " Now abideth faith" — that is below ! " Now abideth liojie" — so is that. In Jicaven there is no faith, no hope; angels and saints have neither; but all have love. Therefore, says Paul, "Faith, hope, charity; but the greatest of these is ciuirity." And where do we find the greatest, and noblest, and best example of love ? Where would we kindle the new love in our heaits ? Torch kindles toi-cii, and fire kindles fire; and where shall we, with God's blessing, kindle tiie fire of love within us f Where, but at the love s])oken of in my text- — " the love of (Jod, which is iu Christ Jesus our Lord !" Oh ! that God would so bless the Word, when we set that love before iVnrrA2l, 1S45. 38 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. this company, that it might kindle love in every sinner's heart ; and as you would collect the sun's rays in the focus of a burning-glass, may the rays of the love of God be so collected in the burning-glass of the Gospel ; in the cross of Christ — in Christ himself —may that love be so collected and concentrated as to warm, and warming melt, every sinner's soul ! This I can say, brethren, God has no wish that his should be a reign of terror ; if so, it is your own choice, and must be your own blame ! God has no wish that his should be any but a reigu of love. And if any one ask me how I know that God would rather draw him to heaven than drive him to hell ? I tell him to look to the cross at Calvary. I see traced there in lines of blood, written with tears, inscribed in letters as of fire, that " God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked — is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance !" Now, let me turn your attention to the closing words of this most beautiful, most precious pas- sage of Scripture — one which shows us the se- curity which those enjoy who are real believers — who have received the Gospel into their hearts, and whose lives are conformed to the pat- tern of Christ. And who is there that would not wish to be a Christian ? Who would not gladly suffer all which the apostle suffered, to have a hope so clear and bright— a confidence so perfect, and a persuasion so strong, that nothing can ever separate him from the love of Christ ? No ; not fear of death, nor the love •of life, nor evil angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things jiresent, nor things to come, nor the height of prosperity, nor the depth ot adversity, nor anything else, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is be- stowed upon us through Christ Jesus our Lord ! There are just two points which we shall touch — i^trs«,'The love of God; and, secondly. The manner in which that love is manifested. I. Then, the love of God. Now, a guilty conscience clothes nature in sackcloth ; a guilty conscience will make the sweetest cup bitter ; a guilty conscience will people the night with spectres ; a guilty conscience will turn a downy pillow into a bed of thorns; and a guilty conscience will invest the loveliest being, God himself, in the clothing of terror and fear. So it was with Adam when God said to him, "Where art thou ?" He had been accustomed, as a child v.ho hears his father's voice and step, to run with love and confidence to meet him ; but now he flees. And why ? Because he had a guilty conscience ! His con- science told him he had done -v^Tong — his memory recalled the sentence : " Thou shalt surely die !" And the voice of God was heard as the voice of the executioner, when he comes to call the criminal to take his place upon the gallows. Now, brethren, I don't wonder at that; because Adam knew nothing of God's love in Christ Jesus. But for any man in this house to flee when God calls on him, is most mon- strous, and unnatural, and unreasonable ! Men act towards God as if God's voice were never heard but in the thunders of Sinai — they act towards God as if he made hLs creatures only to destroy them — they act as if God was like some earthly fathers, who live, not to bless, but to curse their children. I could bring you a heathen idol of frightful form and hideous colours, invested with horrid attributes ; and I say, the man, be he preacher or not, who invests Jehovah with nothing but the attributes of repulsive terror, that man does Jehovah more injustice than the blinded Pagan, who makes a horrid god, and trembles before the work of his own hands. God has no wish to be a God of terror to any one within these walls. The God of that Bible is a God of love. Love is, so to speak, the essence and element of divinity ! The Bible does not say, God is justice; it does not say, God Is holiness; it does not say, God is truth ; but it does say, God is love ! And I venture to say that, among you in this city, there is not a father so fond of his children as God would be of you, would you only come to him; and the fondest, happiest father on earth would not be so happy in his own family as God would be in us. And what is this fond aud faithful earthly parent but a dim and distant image of our ever-loving, ever- living, and everlasting Father in heaven ? But some may say. Does not God punish sinners ? Very true ; yet God has no pleasure in punishing sinners — God has no pleasure in sentencing any man to wrath ! Do you suppose a king, who has a heart like other men, has pleasure in signing away the felon's life ? — he has dropped a tear of pity on the very death-warrant that he signed! There was an ancient Roman who condemned his own son to die ; he was the judge as well as father of the culprit. Painful, position ! The voice of duty prevailed over that of nature, and Brutus gave his son to die ! yet I believe, if his own life could have saved his son, he would gladly have laid it down. Did Jesus destroy Jerusalem ? Very true ; but he wept over the city he destroyed ! — he would have saved her, if she would have been saved. And I believe God never consigned an immortal sjiirit to eternal misery but, in a sense, he did it unwillingly ; for " God is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." Now, brethren, men think God hates them, and they hate him for it. It is a great mistake. God hates no man ; the hatred is all your own. There is no hatred in yon dying Son, and none in yon gentle Spirit. JMen fly, as if God pur- sued them with his justice. With his justice he will pursue them; but first he pursues them with his love! What would you think of a man flying from a jiardon into the arms of his exe- cutioner ? — flymg from a place of safety into the burning fire ? Ah ! that is the man who flies THE LOVE OF GOD IN CHRIST JESUS. 39 from God ! and I say, men never made a more monstrous mistake than when, confounding tiie sinner and his sin, tliey thinic he hates the sin- ner who but hates the sin. Many people fancy that God loves you, because Christ died for you. No such thini,' ! The tree of Calvary grew from the love of God. This love was the root, not the fniit, of the tree. God did not love because Jesus died; but Jesus died because God loved. " God so loved the world" — and remember when he so loved the world, he so loved you — " that he gave up his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perisli, but have everlasting life ! " Bear, then, this in mind of the love of God, that Christ is not the root, but the fruit — not the foimtain, but the stream — not the price, but tlie gift of loA'e. In love he spared not his own Son; and shall he not, Avho spared not his own Son, with him also " freely give us all things ? " Let us now turn — II. To the manifestation of this love, here said to be " the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." It is seen in Christ — it is sho^vn in Christ — it is sent by Christ. You cannot see God from any position as a God of love, but standing on the righteousness, and loolcing on the face of Jesus. The love of God ! AVhy, brethren, that is a vast subject — a subject which would not oc- cupy us for hours, but shall occupy the re- deemed for eternity ! It is the constant theme both of the damned and the redeemed — of the lost and of the saved. The lost, as they toss on their fiery bed, restlessly and unavailingly try- ing to ease their position, and relieve their pain — ah! they thuik of the love of Christ — of many a precious Sabbath and many a Gos- pel sermon, when tliat love was offered; and now they w'onder and curse the madness, the blindness, which rejected it. And what is spoken and sung of in the hymns of heaven ? " The love of God in Christ Jesus ! " — this is the sweetest, loftiest, noblest, tlieme that tongue can speak of, pen can M-rite of, mind can think of, harp can praise, or heart can feel ! To preacli it, is the office of minis- ters; to embrace it, is the salvation of sinners; to despise it, is the loss of souls; and to prefer to it the love of sin, is the higiiest insult to Jehovah. To know it lost, is the bitterest curse of hell ; to know it gained, the highest happiness of heaven. Well may we say of the love of God what Luther said of music : " If I were to speak of it, I would not know where to begin, and I would not know when to end!" Let us now consider one or two things be- longing to this love. First, Its Author. It is celestial — it is more; the love of angels is celes- tial, but this love is divine — eteriuil ! The seat of this love is the bosom of Divinity — the heart of the everlasting God. What a wonderful thought, that from the bosom of a pure Divinity love should descend on us ! Not the love of an earthly father, that shall be short and transi- tory, but the endless lore of Him who garnished the heavens, and laid tlio foundations of tlie earth — who created worlds by the word of his mouth, and shall consume them by the breath of his lips ! Then, after looking at its Author, turn your eye, and, secondly, look at its objects. Ah! what a distance there, between the loving and the loved! What a deep descent that love accom- plished, when it descended on fallen man ! Tiiere is a common proverb, that " Like draws to like;" but how unlike — a holy God and his sinful, polluted creatures! No ])henomenon in nature were half so wonderful as this — the most marvellous spectacle a universe ever saw I W^ore the fire to freeze, the snow to burn, the sun with his noon-day beams to congeal the sea, it were far less Monderfiil than this! AVere a mother to smite the sucking infant at her breast, and cast it out from her lu-art's affection — the hatred, indeed, of all the niothei-s of earth to their own offspring, horrible and hateful as that would be, to my eye that monstrous sight were less amazing far than this most amaz- ing spectacle of the love of God descending upon us. Where he might have smitten, he heals; whei-e he might have punished, he par- dons; and calls to heaven when he might have cast to hell. And the question that has never been answered is tliis : What did God see in you and me to love ? " Oh ! the height, and depth, and breadth, and length, of the love of God! It passeth knowledge. Herein, indeed, is love; not that we loved God, but he loved us!" Now, turn we from its Author, and from its objects, and, see, thirdhj, its end. What was it this love had in view ? A most beneficent and benevolent end ! — to conquer the king of ter- rors, him also called " the terror of Icings." In its grave, to revive the dust — to sweeten tlie cup of misery — to pluck the sting from con- science— to wash the jJoUuted soul — to rebuild a ruined spirit — to bear far and for ever away yon black curse of sin — to save the soul from hell, and save the soul for lu'aven — that was the end ! The Bible speaks of a man dying as a fool dieth; and I say Christ did not die as a fool dieth. Tlie end was Avorthy for God's Son to die; and, brethren, that that end should be ac- complished in you and nu^ is the one grand, only end worth living for; and it's worthy dying for. Let us look for a mon^oni, fourthly, at the person in whom tliis love was shown. We have seen that the author of this love was God — that its objects were poor, wretched, sinful men — tiiat its end was great and glorious. Paul speaks of ''this gi-eat salvation" — great in its autlior— great in its olject — great in its i)rice; and it will be great hi its ultimate and eternal end ! Let us now look at the person in whom tliis love was shown — " tlie love of God which is," not in angels or archangels, cherubim or seraphim — not in man, but " tiie love of God in Cliiist Jesus." This is precious love in a jire- cious vessel ! wine of life in a cup of gold ! fra- 40 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. grant incense in an alabaster box! a jewel in a casket worthy of its gem! — the love of God in Jesus Christ ! And, brethren, who is Jesus Christ ? The Son — the dear Son — the only Son — the only begotten and well-beloved Son of liis own Father ! And can you sit like stocks and stones, and hear of such a love sent through such a person ? God's own Son is the channel through which it flows. The sovereign may send a peer as his messenger of mercy; but here God sends a prince. The noble may send, as the bearer of his charity, a liveried servant; but here God sends his Son; and, mark you, the Son of God, though a messenger, is more than a messenger. A messenger brings a pardon ; but what Christ brings he bought. He is mes- senger and mediator too. When the dove, on white wings, came across the flood, bearing an olive branch- — an emblem of peace — she was taken into the ark; and, the waters of wrath subsided, she was let go free, to fly with her mate to the forest. But the Dove that came from heaven, with the palm of peace and recon- ciliation to God, bled upon the altar. That blessed Dove was at once both messenger and mediator. I spoke of the box of ointment. The love of God was, so to speak, enclosed in Christ, as that precious, fragrant ointment in its alabaster box. You remember how, before the ointment could be poured on Christ's blessed head, the box had to be broken. And so it was in respect of us; before that love could be poured on us, the vessel of his humanity had to be bruised, as "bruised it was by thirty-three years of suifer- ing and sori-ow; and broken, as broken at length it was when dashed and shattered on the cross. Herein is love, indeed, that he yielded his Son to death. And now here is the position in Avhich Almighty God stands before this com- pany. He stands over the broken, bleeding, lifeless body of a beloved, a well-beloved Son, from whom, in compassion for you, he turned away his paternal and blessed face — in whom, in compassion for you, he thrust his own sword of justice ! It might move iis to see any father stand by the body of a mui-dered son; but what a spectacle is here! — Almighty God stands by the body of his lifeless Son, and says, as well he may : " What could I have done more for you than I have done?" More he could not do, though there had been as many crosses as hills on earth, and a cross on every hill, and an angel nailed on every cross. Yon single cross, yon middle tree of Calvary, was greater than them all ! More he could not do ! And what, bre- thren, can you say ? But this less I cannot do than say : " Father, my Father, which art in heaven ! I have sinned against thee ! Give me thy precious Son ! — give me thy gracious Si)i- rit !^give me Jesus, else I die !" There is one peculiarity about this love, to which, for a moment, in closing, I request your attention, althougli it perhaps more j^roperly belongs to a preceding portion of the chap- ter. Now, the love of God to angels (it is difficult to use an expression that might not be found fault with; yet I think we may venture to say), the love of God to angels was cpienchable, because quenched. Of course, Satan and his fallen crew stand not now in the position they once did with i-egard to God, as when they stood a happy and a shining throng around the throne in heaven. And thus I may safely say that angels could be separated from the love of God. And then, in paradise, under the cove- nant of works, it were safe enough to say, man could be separated from the love of God. The love of God to Adam and the first Adam's race was not only quenchable, but quenched. And, here is the value of this love (new covenant love, redemption love), that which raises it above all other love of God — it is eternal. When once in Christ, aye in Christ — sure of him, safe for ever ! Whom ho loveth, he loveth to the end. The love of God to man in Christ Jesus never can be frozen among the mountains of our native land. Some lakes there are that are never frozen, and the reason is, they are so deep; and so deep, deeper still, is God's love to be- lievers. To believers in Jesus, God is a well of water, whose waters flow night and day, springing up into everlasting life. Some wells dry up in summer; and when the mountains are white with snow, they are bound in chains of ice; but the well of God's mercies — the well of God's love in Christ — the well of God's grace in the Spirit — it is like those springs that rise from the mountain's bosom — springs, sum- mer's sun never dried, and winter's fi'ost never bound! ■ A mother may forget her sucking child; and the child may sting the bosom it has been nursed on, and trample upon a mother's heart, break its tenderest strings, and bring down her grey hairs with sorrow to the grave; and mis- conception on their part, and misconduct on ours, may quench the fires of earthly afloction — may cool, may kill, earthly love. We have seen the black, cold ashes, where the fires of love once glowed and burned; but no man ever saw the ashes of the fires of God's covenant love. They were never quenched, because unquench- able ! And if of the covenant of grace, and love of that blessed covenant, you ask for an emblem, what emblem, what figure, so appro- jiriate for its snow-white banner, as " The bush that was burning, but never consumed 1" May God bless that Word to us all, and to his name be the praise ! THE THRONE OP GRACE. As fogs obscure the light, And taint the morning air, But soon are put to fliglit If the bright sun appear; Thus Jesus will our troubles chase, By shining from the throne of grace. Newton. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 41 THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. MISSIONARY TO THC SOUTH SEAS. PART IV. — THE MARTYR. "Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, S"rvinf cold water," greatly interested and aflfected Mr Williams. A few days before his departure, a valedic- tory service was held in the Tabernacle, Lou- don; at which, after addresses from various ministers, he bade the Society and Christian friends })resent an aftectionate farewell. I am fully aware (said he) of the feelings of which my brethren and myself are conscious at the jircsent moment. We know how to appreciate the e'.ulear- ments of civilized society; we know how to a]ii)re- ciate the entwinings of nffectionate relatives; and we know that we are tearing away all the sympathies which bind heart to heart. A\'e have gazed upon it all; we have taken it into consideration. I have looked at the violent storms to which we may be ex- posed— at the ferocity of the savages among whom we are going; and having viewed it all, I have just l)laced the object in view in the opposite scale; and iixing the eye of the mind intently upon the great- ness and sublimity of that, 1 trust I can say. in the face of all difficulties and dangers : '• None of these things move me; neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I may finish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God." He sailed in the "Camden" on the 11th of April — thousands having assembled to witness his departure — and after a prosperotis voyage, having touched at Cajie Town and Sydney, ar- rived at Tutuila, one of the Samoas, on the 23d of November. On going on shore, he found tliat the majority of the peui)le ]irofessed Chris- tianity, and bad several delightful meetings with tliem. We are told that at one meeting. 42 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. After several natives had made their " little speeches," a very old chief arose, and said that many years ago a chief in a neighbouring village delivered this prophecy : " That the worship of the spirits would cease throughout Ssimoa — that a great whito chief would come from beyond the distant horizon, who would overtiirow their religion, and that all this would happen very shortly utter his death." " That old man," he added, " died just before the lotu was brought to our land;" and then turning from the assembly, fixing his eyes intently upon Mr Williams, and pointing to him as he sat in their midst, he said, in a most impressive tone, " See ! the prophecy is fulfilled. This is the great white chief who was to come from beyond the distant horizon ; this is he who has overturned the worship of the spirits ! " He then proceeded to show how completely the predic- tion had been verified, and concluded with an earnest exhortation to all to embrace the Word of God. After visiting several of the neighbouring islands, Williams wrote home as follows: — The numbers who have renounced heathenism are very great. It is supposed that the whole group con- tains a population of sixty or seventy thousand, and of these about fifty thousand are under instruction. The desire for missionaries is intense and universal. Chiefs from all quarters came, some one hundred, others two himdred miles, and pleaded with us in the most urgent manner ; and, if we had had twenty in- stead of three, all would have been readily disposed of. Your heart would have ached, had you seen the downcast dejected looks of those who were unsuc- cessful. Since my arrival, I have attended the open- ing of three or four places of worship, each of which will contain from twelve to eighteen hundred persons. In January he visited Rarotonga, where he was received by missionaries, king, and people, with every manifestation of joy and love; and the Bibles he brought were, if possible, more welcome than himself. In a letter to a friend, he says, The eagerness with which they received the Testa- ments would have cheered your heart, could you have been an eye-witness of the scene. The counte- nance of a successful applicant glistened with delight, while he held up his treasure to public view; others hugged the book ; many kissed it ; some sprang away like a dart, and did not stop till they entered their own dwellings, and exhibited their treasure to their wives and children; while others jumped and capered about like persons half frantic with joy. Many came with tears in their eyes, begging and beseeching that they might have one ; and if it was said " You cannot read," the reply was, " But my son or my daughter can, and I can hear and understand them." After a week's stay, he sailed for Tahiti, where — as subsequently at Raiatea, Eimeo, Borabora, &c. — he was received with like enthu- siasm. Thereafter he returned to the f^amoas, where for some months he remained, devising and maturing plans for carrying forward the good work, ))y the education of natives, &c. The many islands to the west, however, were still in darkness; and ho now hastened to carry to them the good news which he had already been the first to declare to so many. But lie did not commence the voyage — it was his last — without feelings of anxiety and fear. We ai-e told that, before setting out, ho preached from Acts xx. 36-38 — principally dilating upon these words: " And they all wept sore, and foil upon Paul's neck, and kissed him ; sorrow ing most of ail for the words which he spake, that they should see Ids face no more." These touching references, and the tears of the natives, acted so powerfully upon his tender spirit, that for a considerable time the place was a Bochim ; pastor and people wept together, and nothing but sighs and sobs were to be heard throughout the as- sembly. Their sorrows tended to deepen these of their departuig friend, and it was with pain tl'.at Mrs Williams remarked the depression under which he laboured. This to him was an unwonted state of mind. Formerly, when separating from his family on similar embassies of mercy, no sadness sat upon his countenance, and no feelings prevailed in his heart but those of hope and animation. But now the scene was changed. As if " coming events had already cast their shadow before them," and he felt its oppressive gloom creeping over hun, he went forth dejected and weeping. Never before had his family seen him thus, and they " wondered and held their peace." He was accompanied in the voyage by Mr Harris, a gentleman who intended devoting himself to the missionary work, and by Captain Morgan. The first island which he visited after leaving the Samoas was Tanna. There he was very kindly received by the natives, and at their request, left teachers to instruct them in the truths of Christianity. On the evening of that day he made the last entry in his diary, as follows. The words are remarkable. " This is a memorable day — a day which will be trans- mitted to posterity; and the record of the events which have this day transpired, will exist after those who have taken an active part in them have retired into the shades of oblivion, and the results of this day will be " This pas- sage has excited no little attention; and al- though it is very clear that it referred to the success with which his visit to Tanna had been crowned — he perhaps auguring weU from that for the success of his future labours — some have thought that " he wrote, though uncon- sciously, under a supernatural impression." For his end was now near at hand, and he was soon to seal with his blood the testimony which he had so long and so nobly borne in behalf of his Master. Leaving Tanna, Williams steered for the Island of Erromanga, the natives of which were reputed to be in a grossly savage state; and the night coming on, and being unable to distin- guish the creeks and bays in the land, they put the vessel about, to lie-to during the night. The tragic narrative of the subsequent morn- ing will be best detailed in the words of an eye-witness — Captain Morgan. On reaching the head of the bay, we saw several natives standing; at a distance ; we made signs to them to come towards us, but they made signs for us to go away. We threw them some beads un shore, which they eagerly picked up, and came a little closer, and received from us some fish-hooks and beads, and a small looking-gluss. On coming to a beautiful valley between the mountains, having a small run of water, BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— THE REV. JOHN WILLIAMS. 43 we wished to ascertain if it was fresh, and we gave thi) chief a boat-bucket to fetch us some, and in about h:df-an-liour he returned running with the water, wliich, I think, gave Mr Williams and myself more cunliJence in the natives. They ran and brought us some cocoa-nuts, but still were extremely shj-. Mr Williams drank of the water the native brought, and I held his hat to screen him from the sun. He seemed pleased with the natives, and attri- buted their sh}'ness to the ill-treatment they must have received from foreigners visiting the island on some former occasion. >Ir Cunningham asked him if he tiiought of going on shore. I thmk he said he should not have the slightest fear, and then remarked to me, " Captain, you know we like to take possession of the land, and if we can only leave good impres- sions on the mindfl of the natives, we can come again and leave teachers; we must be content to do a little; you know Babel was not built in a day." lie did not intend to leave a teacher this time. Mr Harris asked him if he might go on shore, or if he had any objection; he said, " No, not any." Mr Harris then waded on shore. As soon as he landed the natives ran from him; but Mr AVilliania told him to sit down. He did so, and the natives came close to him and brought him some cocoa-nuts, and opened them for him to drink. Mr Williams remarked, he saw a number of native boys playing, and thought it a good ■sign, as implying that the natives had no bad inten- tions ; I said, I thought so too, but I would rather see some women also; because when the natives re- solve on mischief they send the women out of the way. There were no women on the beach. At last he got up, went forward in the boat, and landed. He presented his hand to the natives, which they were unwilling to take ; he then called to me to hand some cloth out of the boat, and he sat down and divided it among them, endeavouring to win their confidence. All three walked up the beach — Mr Harris first; Mr Williams and Mr Cunningham fol- lowed. After they had walked about a hundred yards, they turned to the right, alongside of the bush, and I lost sight of them. Mr Harris was the farthest off. I then went on shore, supposing -we had found favour in the eyes of the peo])le. 1 stop- ped to see the boat anchored safely, and then walked up the beach towards the spot where the others had proceeded; but before I had gone a hundred yards, the boat's crew called out to me to run to the boat. I looked round, and saw Mr Williams and Mr Cun- ningham running; ^Ir (Junningham towards the boat, and Mr Williams straight for the sea, with one native close behind him. I got into the boat, and by this time two natives were close behind me, though I did not see them at the moment. IJy this time Sir Wil- liams had got to the water, but, the beach being stony and steep, he fell backward, and the native struck him -vrith a club, and often repeated the blow ; a short time after, another native came up and struck him, and very soon another came up and pierced several arrows into his body. My heart was deeply wounded. As soon as I got into the boat I headed the boat towards Mr Williams, in hopes of rendering him some assistance, but the natives shot an arrow at us, which went under the arm of one of our seamen, through the lining of the b(jat into a timber, and there stuck fast. They also hove stones at the sametime. The boat's crew called out to me to lay the boat otF; I did so, and we got clear of the arrows. I thought I might be able to get the body; for it lay on the beach a long time. At last I pulled alongside the brig, and made all sail, perceiving with the glass that the natives had left the body on the beach. I also ordered a gun to be fired, loaded with powder only, thinking to frighten the natives, so that I might get the body; the natives, however, made their appearance, and dragged the body out of sight. Mt Harris was also cruelly murdered. Thus foil John Williams, tlirougli life the apostolic missionary, and now in death the de- voted martyr 1 " Wiio can recall that name, and not be impressed with a sentiment of un- earthly greatness I How does the wave of Erromanija henceforth seem to redden with his blood, and to munnur with his name; and its corals to pile uj) their monument to the enterprise of his mission and the oblation of his death!"* The new.s of his death was first carried to Sydney, whither the " Camden" sailed, and where it excited the deepest distress. An appli- cation was immediately made to the governor for a ship-of-war, which might be desjjatched to Erromanga, to recover the remains, and convey the tidings of Williams' death to Samoa. The request was complied with; and on the 26th of February, the vessel, under the command of Captain Croker, reached the Island of Tanna. Here the lirst question asked by the natives was: " Where is Williams ?" and when the sad truth was told, " they hung upon Mr Cun- ningham's hand, and wept like children. On the following morning, they reached the scene of the dreadful tragedy, and Captain Croker, his second lieutenant, ;Mr Cunningham, and others, put off for the shore; but as they ap- proached it, they heard the reverberation of the war conch, and saw the savages ftying in all directions. At length, hQw«--er, communi- cations were opened, a-'/lfne wretched creatures confessed thj>.t iney had devoured the bodies, of whicn nothing remained but some of tile bones. These, including the skulls, were, after hours of delay, brought to the boat; and hav- ing satisfied himself that he now possessed all the nuitilated relies of the mui'dered mis- sionaries which could be obtained, Captain Croker hastened from these horrid shores." They sailed straight for Samoa. " The first canoe that reached us," said an eye-witness, " was guided by a middle-aged man, who, a.s soon as we were within Iniil, called out to our native teachers, inquiring for ' Missi William ;' and those who witnessed it will not forget the stunning and agonizing effect which the news of his death produced. The man seemed at once unhinged; he dropped'his j)addle, and stooped his head and wept. We. did not understand his words; but his gestures could not bo misin- terpreted. He accompanied us for some time, makingvarious inc^uiries; but no smile lightened his expressive countenance, and ever and anon lie burst out into fresh cries and tears." ;Mrs Williams resided at Samoa, and the pa- ralyzing intelligence was conveyed to her at the dead hour of night; ajid terrible and pro- tracted was her anguish. Nor was she alone in luT grief. " Had the death-scene in Egypt been tliat night repeated in Samoa, lameuta- " Rev, Dr Hamilton of Leeds. 44 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. tions more bitter and cries more piercing could scarcely have attended it, than those which this intelligence awakened. In a short time every sleeping native had been aroused, and through the morning twilight they were seen grouped together in solemn and sorrowful communica- tion, while everywhere might be heard the sounds of distress." And as the vessel carried the sad news from island to island, similar scenes occurred — the same depth of sorrow and emotion was everywhere irrepressibly exhi- bited. " Aue WiUiamu! Aue Tama!" — "Alas, Williams ! alas, our father !" — was the universal ery. They felt they had lost a friend — a friend the best they had on earth — their spiritual father — he who had been the first to declai'e to them that glorious Gospel, in whose salvation they rejoiced, and whose blissful reward they now hoped and waited for ! And on none did the news come with more stunning effect than on his brother missionaries. He was greatly beloved by them all ; his example and success had done much to strengthen and encourage them ; while his extensive experience bad en- abled him to give them much valuable advice. He was, indeed, the head of the mission ; and now that he Avas gone, there was none to fill his place. " The cedar had fallen." " By whom should Jacob now arise?" The intelligence of his death, when received Jy'+his country, spread a deep gloom over the relio-ioBS uiJ^^^'^' ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^® remember how slow for a time ma'^ "^'^^^ *« believe its truth. In London, several'pubnt; :!'ervices were held to mourn over and improve the e'.'^'it; while throughout the country, the pulpit, the pi^!" form, and the press, all united in testifying to his greatness and his worth. , His remains lie in Samoa. What a meeting will that be, when, on the resurrection morn, at the sound of the trump, he rises and again finds himself in the midst of those whom he had been the first to lead to Jesus ! And how joyfully will he enter heaven at the head of the mighty throng ! " Behold here am I, and the children whom thou hast given me !" THE SABBATH. The world is full of toil ;1 It bids the traveller roam, It binds the labourer to the soil — The student to his home. The beasts of burden sigh, Overloaded and opprest-^ The Sabbath lifts its banner high. And gives the weary rest. The world is full of care ; ' The haggard brow is wrought In furrows as of fixed despair, And checked tlie heavenward thought; But with indignant grace. The Sabbath's chastening tone Drives money-changers from the place Which God doth call his own. The world is full of grief; Sorrows o'er sorrows roll. And the far hope that brings relief Doth sometimes pierce the soxd. The Sabbath's peaceful bound Bears Mercy's holy seal — A balm of Gilead for the wound That man is weak to heal. The world is full of sin ; A dangerous flood it rolls. The imwary to its breast to win. And whelm unstable souls. The Sabbath's beacon tells Of reefs and wrecks below, And warns, though gay the billows swell, Beneath are death and woe. There isj]a world, where' none With fruitless labour sigh ! Where care awakes no lingering groan, And grief no agony : Where Sin, with fatal arts. Hath never forged her chains. But deep enthroned in angel hearts, One endless Sabbath reigns. Mrs L. H. Sigourney. POPISH RELICS. THE HOLY TUNIC OF TREVES AND THE REFORMER RONGE. Antichrist is described in Scripture as coming with " lying wonders," and with " all deceivableness of unrighteousness;" and in nothing, perhaps, has the Church of Rome more thoroughly served herself heir to this character, than in the numberless deceptions which she has practised, and still practises, on her credulous and deluded votaries in the matter of " reli- Hous relics." Holding, as one of her bishops tells us that ■" tll^ dead bodies or bones of the saints, as also whatever other tniilgs have belonged to them in their mortal life, are to be kept witi: religious respect and veneration," she has gone about the maUuTkcture of such articles with a recklessness and an effrontery- which make us almost wonder how Satan could have left one of his best and most willing servants to per- petrate frauds so easily detected, and, when detected, so sure to bring down upon her the reprobation of every rational and honest man. A catalogue of the multitudinous articles which the Church of Rome exhibits throughout her pro^dnces, under the name of " reUcs," would be a singularly ludicrous, were it not a painfully humiliating, docu- ment— humiliating, whether we consider the frau- dulent cupidity by whicKthey must have been " got up," or the nuserable superstition which beUeves them genuine. Thus they profess to have in the Church of Ls/- teran the ark which Moses made in the ■(rilderness, together with his rod; and also the table at which our Lord instituted the sacrament of the supper ! In St Peter's Church at Rome, they exhibit the cross of the repentant thief, the dice T\'ith which the sol- diers cast lots for Christ's garment, and a milhtone, on which, it is said, St Anthony sailed to Muscovy ! !' In other pLices they profess to have a finger and an arm of St Ann, the Virgin'Mary's mother; a piece of POPISH RELICS— THE HOLY TUNIC OF TREVES, &c. 45 i! the Virgin's veil ; some of her husband's (Joseph's) breath, tchick aji anfjel enclosed in a jihial; a jaw- b()i;« of Mary Magdalene; a piece of the rope with irliich Judas hanged himself; and many things even more absurd, which we would mention, but our doing so might excite a feeling of the ludicrous, which we should not wish our readers to associate in any case with our pages. And even this is not all; for, not s:ttisfied with one, they have often several of each relic ! Thus, although they possess at Lateran the (■It I ire table at which our Sa\-iour instituted the last sujjper, certain monks, both in Spain and Flanders, ftssert that they have pieces of it. Of the wood of the cross it has been calculated they have enough where- \nth to erect a temple, while, according to a well- tnown couplet, More locks of the Virgin's hair have been Tliaii single liairson her head were seen. And so on witli other duplicate relics, which, for the reason stated above, we forbear from mentioning. It is for thuigs like these that they demand and re- ■ceive the reverence and worship of the people. Before the Reformation, there were many such relics in Scotland. In the Glasgow Cathedr;d there were said to be, among other things, part of the wood of the cross, a ])iece of St Bartholomew's skin, and two bags tilled with the bones of ancient saints. But in our day the British Romanists have no such things in their possession ; at least if they have, we •never hear of them. AVhat will do in Italy or Spain •would never do here. There is " light " in Britain, and they bring not such deeds of darkness to the light, " lest they be reproved." Indeed, when Papists in this country are spoken to privately on the subject of these relics, their usual course is altogether to deny their existence. But such a course is ex- tremely foolish. Facts are overwhelmingly against them. They might as well attempt to deny that they are taught by their Church to believe in the doctrines of purgatory and the mass — doctrines w hich, by the ■way, have a common origin with that of " relics," viz., the avarice of the i)riesthood. It was the ob- servation of an old autlior, that " the fire of purga- tory was kindled, not for the purification of souls, but for the warming of the Pope's kitchen;" and the mass, it is well known, is chiefly powerful in relieving the souls of the departed when tlic equivalent, in the shape of money, is laid down by the surviving friends. The doctrine of relics forms but a branch of the same corrupt money-making system, and is commonly a very successful branch — the appeal being made to the people when, under the influence of excited su- perstition, they are never slow to give. An event has recently occurred on the Continent which has had the effect of calling the public atten- tion forcibly to this sulyect, and promises to be fol- lowed there by consequences of no mean importance. We refer to the exhibition at Treves of the so-called Holy Tunic. The cathedral there, it would ap- pear, lays claim to the possession of the garment without seam which our Saviour wore, and for which his executioners cast lots — a claim which, as usual, is disputed, the ecclesiastics of eleven other places asserting that the garment is in their pos- H session — and towards the close of last year, Arnold, ! I the Romish bishop of the place, gave intimation ! that it would be publicly exhibited during seven weeks, for tlie veneration of the faithful ! The an- nouncement excited a gi'eat sensation over Germany, and we ai-e told that hundreds of thousands of pilgrims hastened from all quarters to witness the , exhibition — including many of the sicl: and dis- l| eased, who expected, by touckinf/ the holy relic, to . be cured of all their troubles. The superstitious ex- citement of the populace on the occasion, strongly reminds one of the fanatical enthusiasm of the cru- sades. It is stated by a I'rotestant gentleman who visited the scene, that The steamer [in which he sailed to Treves'] was soon converted into a floating chapel, and at frequent intervals during the whole of the day, the greater proportion of the passengers were engaged hi their devotional exercises — in prayers, singing hymns, and listening to the addresses of the priests, who, in turn, officiated and relieved each other. The subjects of these addresses had reference to the " Jloli/ Tunic;'''' and the " Virr/in Mother''^ seemed to be the chief object of adoration. | During our ]irogre3S we ever and anon passed boats of every size, from that of the humble fisherman to the largest craft which ply on the Moselle. These : were returning from Treves, each vrith its full com- ' plement of pilgrims, as closely packed and regularly arranged as on the exterior of an Erighsh stage- \ coach in which every seat is occupied. All these ' boats, some of them with bands of nmsic on board, were decorated (lilce our steamer) witli colours, ex- ; hibiting, in every variety of form and gaudy hue, the i hoi II coat. The beautiful and picturesque banks of the | Moselle also exhibited scenes of similar interest : and religious excitement. AVc overtook several bands of pilgrims wending their weary way on foot, with their gay colours, crosses, priests, and musical uistruments, chanting their solemn hymns of praise and adoration ; the surrounding hills and valleys res]ioniUng to, and swelling with the pealing anthems j of these peaceful, simple-hearted ■victims of sujjersti- | tion and delusion. These ])rocessions were composed | of from one thousand to three thousand individuals i in each, with from six to ten waggons, containing provisions, &c., and probably also the aged and infirm. Having arrived at Treves, we are told that The scene of excitement, bustle, and confusion which tlie whole town presented, was such as the imagination cannot picture, or language accurately describe. In the market-place, and more open streets and avenues leading to tiie cathedral, were erected ranges of booths, sheds, &c., as on the occasion of a periodical fair. Tliese, like the reguhir shops, were well furnished with provisions, and a profusion of articles, sucli as handkerchiefs, &c., on which were figured the holy coat in every variety of form and representation. The entire areas, not occupied by these bootlis, &c., were crowded to excess by the assembled thousands of strangers and pilgrims, at- tracted thitlier from all parts of Germany, France, Belgium, and Holland. Tlie pilgrim processions were regularly marshalled and arranged, under the direction of the jiriests and other authorities, both civil and military. Each procession was composed of many hundreds of individuals, all slowly progress- ing in the direction of the cathedral, into which none were admitted without tickets. \N"e requested a 46 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. priest to give us tickets, which he did with much politeness, and we gained admittance through a pri- vate entrance into the cloisters, where we joined a procession entering the cathedral in that direction. Such, however, was the throng there assembled, so slow the progress and admittance into the cathedr;il, which was by only three or four at a time, that we relinquished the attempt, foreseeing that our turn would not come till a late hour. In the course of the evening my son made another attempt, and suc- ceeded in gaining an entrance, and saw the famous relic ; which was enclosed in a glass case, and ap- peared to be a kind of coat or cloak of dark brown colour. All pilgrims and strangers were permitted to hehold the relic, but we were told that those only on whom miraculous cures were to be worked were allowed to touch and handle it; and ail the pilgrims made a 2iecuniary offering to the priests. And another ivrites that — " Holy garment, I have come to thee" — " holy gar- ment, I adore thee" — " holy garment, pray for me" — were words with which the cathedral resounded. Such is Popery— the religion of moth-eaten garments and of dead men's bones ; and such the fearful influence which, to this day, she exercises over her votaries — able by a word to lead them to the worship of an old coat, and, by the exhibition of it, raising money more than sufficient to replenish an exhausted treasury ! But although many were deceived, it was not so with all. There were numbers among the more in- telligent German Romanists, who, like their brethren in this country, entirely disapproved of the exhibi- tion. And one man — John Ronge — a Romish priest, fired irith indignation at the delusion practised on his countrymen, and grieved by the readiness with which they fell into the snare, published a letter to the bishop, denouncing the whole exhibition, and de- manding that it should cease. Arnold, [he, with all the fire of an honest man, exclaimed], Arnold, Bishop of Treves ! I turn to you, and I conjure you, by the authority of my profession and calling as a priest, as an instructor of the Ger- man people — in the name of Germany, and in the name of its rulers, I conjure you to put an end to the heathen spectacle of the exhibition of the holy tunic, — to remove this garment from the public eye, and not to permit the evil to become greater than it already is. Do you not know — being a bishop, you ought to know — that the founder of the Christian religion left his disciples and his successors, not his coat, but his Spirit ':' His coat, Arnold, bishop of Treves, belongs to his executioners. Do you not know — being a bishop, you ought to know — that Christ said, " God is a Spirit, and he who worships him must worship him in spirit and in truth ? " And he may be worshipped everywhere, and not in the temple at Jerusalem only, on Mount Gerizzim, or at Treves, in the presence of the holy tunic. The effect of the letter was electric. Circulated through the whole kingdom, it raised a flame which the bishop and his clergy found they could not, with all their influence, extinguish. Ronge was imme- diately excommunicated; but that only served to increase the excitement. And the flame still spreads. For, not content with denouncing the exhibition of the fictitious garment, Ronge has now issued a creed, in which renouncing the authority of the Pope, he abjures many of the errors of Rome — proclaiming liberty of conscience, free inquiry, and the Bible as the only rule of faith, and discarding the five spurious sacraments, along with images, processions, and indul- gences. To this creed thousands of Romanists have adhered, and whole congregations are rapidly joinmg his standard. In one place alone (Schneidemiihle) wc learn, from a private letter, that there is a congre- gation of two thousand indi-v-iduals, headed by a priest, who, in the way of carrying out his reforming views, has already freed himself from the servitude of celibacy. The spirit of inquiry is so awakened that the conduct and creed of Ronge form the chief subject of conversation and discussion in ali circles — in all parts of the kingdom. And before free dis- cussion Rome cannot stand. She has been caught in her own net, and is likely to pay dear for her at- tempted imposition. Ronge has yet much to learn. He does not ap- pear to possess any clear or heart-influencing view of the necessity and nature of the Gospel scheme, and has, in consequence, made no avowal of his belief in the great fundamental doctrine of justification by faith alone. That was the point on which Luther ever kept his eye, and which gave strength and sta^ bility to the Reformation. And Ronge, if he would be Luther's successor, as by many he has already been designated, or would look for Luther's blessing, must take his stand on the same great truth on which Luther stood, and from which he was not moved by either the subtleties of Romish sophistry or the ter- rors of Papal power. Without this, the movement, so far as spiritual effects are concerned, must fail. But as even Luther could not all at once bring him- self to the denial of the Pope's supremacy, and yet, as light advanced, and as Providence hedged up his way, was brought to it ; so may we not hope that Ronge, although at present giving no very certain sound on this grand truth, ■will, ere long, be led by the Spirit's light to see and to speak clearly regard- ing it. The following account of his earlier history is taken from a letter which appeared some time ago in the Franl-fort Gazette, signed " A Friend of Ronge ": — John Ronge studied in Breslau, and was educated for the priesthood in the seminary there. He distinguished himself by diligence and assiduity in his studies, and moral purity ; so that his superiors said that they had rarely met with a young man who sought with such deep and holy seriousness for the truths of the Catholic religion. When he left the seminary, he was made chaplain in Grottkau, a place about seven German miles from Breslau. Here he undertook also the training of the children; and, by his seriousness, mildness, and educational eminence, so gained their afiections, that they looked upon him as a father; their parents also revering him, notwith- standing the envy and jealousy of the parson, who tried to culumniate him. At this time the bishop- ric of Breslau became vacant, by the abdication of Mr Sedlinitzky. C^anonicus Ritter assuming, without authority, the ofiice, used such liberties in it as to call down a severe reproof from the royal cabinet; but was supported by the Jesuits. At this time Ronge came forward, and anonamously, through the press, attacked the Jesuitic intrigues of the Capitulary, which, even after the nomination of the new bishop, Knauer, was wholly under the influence of Ritter. MISCELLANEOUS. 47 Ronge being asked, on his word as a priest, 'whether he was the author of this attack, at once admitted that he was, rather than equivocate, and being pre- pared to sacrifice his all to truth. He was ordered to be confined in the seminary of Breslau; but being fully aware of the degrading nature of the treatment to which the mind was subjected under the regimen employed in that place, he refused to obey; and, in consequence, was suspended immediately from his office. With what feelings the Catholic congrega- tion of (irottkau viewed his departure from them may be judged of from the fact, that the whole town- council petitioned the Capitulary for his restoration; although, as might have been expected, in vain. Ronge then went to Laurahutte, a colony near Ueuhten, in Upper Silesia, and employed himself in teaching the children of the superintendents there. And there also his excellent qualities secured for him the aifectionate regards of all. It was here that hewTote liis famous letter on the " Holy Tunic." TUE IMPORTANCE OF LITTLE THINGS. What if the little rain should plead, " So small a drop as I Can ne'er refresh the thirsty mead, I'll tarry in the sky ? " What if the shining beam of noon Should in its fountain stay ; Because its feeble light alone Cannot create a day ? Does not each rain-drop help to form The cool refreshing shower ? And ev'ry ray of light to warm And beautify the flower ? Wny DO WE SOMETIMES HEAR UNFAVOURABLE ACCOUNTS OF THE EFFECTS OF MISSIONS? There have been men who, on returning from visits to the scenes of missionary operation, such as the South Sea Islands, have published fierce attacks on the plan of the missions and the conduct of the mis- sionaries— attacks which the enemies of our faith are always 'glad to meet with, and of which they con- trive to make the most. The following extract from the letter of a correspondent of the New York Evati- gdisl, may serve to throw some light on the reason of these attacks, and show what value should be at- tached to them : — I once asked a very intelligent sea captain, how we were to account for the fact, that when the improve- ment in the South Sea Islands is so glaring and un- deniable, persons occasionally return from them with very unfavourable reports. His answer was, that some men are enraged because they find that the in- tellectual improvement and moral elevation of the natives interfere with their gains and their lusts. And if they can no longer purchase pigs and poultry with a rusty nail, or convert the cabin of their ship into a harem, they fill Christendom with the outcry that the missionaries are ruining the islands. Again, he stated that on many of the islands there are low prog-shops, kept by abandoned foreigners, who hate tile-missionaries, and fal)ricate all iniugiiiable slanders against them. And that many sea captains do not go near the mission houses, which are generally a little in the interior, but derive all their information respecting the measures of the missionaries from stories they hear circulated in these grog-shops. And again, there have, of course, lieen individual cases in winch a missionary has not acted wisely, or has even, as with some ministers in our own land, fallen before the power of temptation, and dishonoured the causo of Christ. But in conversing, I think, with at least a hundred captains and mates of whale-ships, I never yet have met with one who has not borne cheerful and decisive testimony to the benofi'-ial results of Christian missions in the islands of tin. I'acific Ocean. THE MOTHER S REWARD. I SAW a little cloud rising in the western horizon. In a few moments it spread over the expanse of heaven, and watered the earth with a genial shower. I saw a little rivulet start from a mountain, winding its way through the valley and the meadow, receiving each tributary rill which it met in its course, till it became a mighty stream, bearing on its bosom the merchandise of many nations, and the various pro- ductions of the adjacent country. I saw a little seed dropped into the earth. The dews descended, and the sun rose upon it; it started into life. In a little time it spread its branches and became a shelter from the heat, "and the fowls of heaven lodged in its branches." I saw a little smiling boy stand by the side of his mother, and heard him repeat from her lips one of the sweet songs of Zion. I saw him kneel at her feet, and pray that Jesus would bless his dear parents — the world of mankind, and keep him from tempta- tion. In a little time I saw him with the books of the classics under his arm, walking alone, busied in deep thought. I went into a Sabbath school, and heard him saying to a little group that surrounded him, " Suffer little children to come unto me." Long after, I went into the sanctuary, and heard him reasoning of " righteousness, and temperance, and judgment to come." I looked, and saw that same mother, at whose feet he had knelt, and from whose lips he had learned to lisp the name Immanuel. Her hair was whitened with the frosts of vrinter, and on her cheek was many a furrow ; but meekness sat on her brow, and heaven beamed in her dim eye glistening with a tear; and I thought I saw in that tear the moving of a mother's heart, whUe she re- verted to days gone by, when this Boanerges was first dawning into life, hanging on her lips, listening to the voice of instruction, and inquiring, in child- like simplicity, the way to be good ; and I said — This is the rich harvest of a mother's toil ; these are the goodly sheaves of tnat precious seed which probably was sown in weeping; and your grey hairs shall not be " brought down with sorrow to the grave," but in the bower of rest you shall look down on him who " vrill arise 'and call you blessed," and finally greet you where hope is swallowed up in fruition, and prayer in praise. The Importance of Consideration. — Considera- tion is the first step towards conversion. The prodi- gal son came to himself first, and then to his father. — Matthew Henrj. The Reason of Affliction. — The Rev. John Newton used to say — " If a man will make his nest below, ixoA will put a thorn in it; and if that will not do, he will set it on fire." " Life is sweet," said Sir Anthony Kingston to Bishop Hoo])er at the stake, trying to persuade him to recant, " and death bitter." " True, friend," he replied ; " but consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come is more sweet." Angels. — All that we know of angels is, that they serve on earth and sing in heaven. — Lullter. 48 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ©aili> Bvcati. FRIDAY. " What think ye of Christ."— Matt. xxii. 12. Ifask'd what of Je.siis I think (If lie graciously give me the power), I'll s.iy, He's my meat and my drink, My life, and my strength, and my store. My Shepherd, my Husband, my Friend, .My Saviour from sin and from thrall ; My hope from beginning to end — My portion, my tiod, and my all. Have you seen Christ, who is the truth ? Has lie been revealed to you, not by flesh and blood, but by the Spirit of our God ? Then you know how true it is that in him " are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge " — that he is the "Alpha and Omega," the beginning and the ending of all knowledge. But if you have not seen Christ, then you know nothing yet as you ought to know ; all your knowledge is like a bridge without a keystone — like a system without a sun. What good will it do you in hell that you knew all the sciences in the world, all the events of history, and all the busy politics of your little day ? SATURDAY. " Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity." — 2 Tim. ii. 19. O crucify this self, that I No more, but Christ in me, may live; Bid all my vile aft'ections die. Nor let one hateful lust survive; In all things nothing may I see, Or aught desire or seek but thee. Either take Christ in your lives, or cast him out of your lips ; either obey his commandments more, else call him Lord no more ; either get oil in your lamps, or cast away your lamps. To be a professing Chris- tian and a practiser of iniquity, is an abomination unto the Lord. Some would not seem e^^l, and yet would be SO; others would be good, and yet would not seem so ; either be what thou seemest, or else be what thou art. Oh ! Christians, bring your lights to the light. — Dijer. SABBATH. " Behold, I stand at the door and knock." — Rev. iii, 20. He now stands knocking at the door Of every sinner's heart ; The worst need keep him out no more, Nor force hiin to depart. Come quickly in, thou heavenly guest, Nor ever hence remove ; But sup with us, and let the feast Be everlasting love. Some persons, when Christ begins to knock at the door of their heart, put him off from time to time. They trifle with then- convictions. They say, I am too young yet, let me taste a little more pleasure of the world; youth is the time for mirth; another time 1 will open the door. Some say, I am too busy ; I have to pi-ovide for my family ; when I have a more con- venient season I will call for thee. Some say, I am strong and healthy ; I hope I have many years to live ; when sickness comes, then I will open the door. Consi- der that Christ may not come again. He is knocking now ; let him in. Another day he may pass by your door. — J^rCheyne. MONDAY. " This is not your rest."— Mic. ii. 10. I pity those who seek no more Than such a world can give ; Wretched they are, and blind and poor. And dying while they live. O Christian ! follow thy work, look to thy dangers hold on to the end, win the field, .ind come off the ground before thou thinkest of a settled rest. When- ever thou talkest of a rest on earth, it is like Peter on the mount — " thou knowest not what thou sayest." If, instead of telling the converted thief, " This day shalt thou be with me in paradise," Christ had said he should rest there upon the cross, would he not have taken it for a derision ? Methiuks it would be ill resting in the midst of sickness and pains, perse- cutions, and distresses. But if nothing else will con- vince us, yet sure the remainders of sin, Avhich do so easily beset us, should quickly satisfy a believer that here is not his rest. I say, therefore, to every one that thinketh of rest on earth, " Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest, because it is polluted." — Baxter. TUESDAY. " The Lord is my portion." — Lam. iii. Ii. From pole to pole let others roam. And search in vain for bliss ; My soul is satisfied at home — The Lord my portion is. Jesus, who on his glorious throne, Rules heaven, and earth, and sea. Is pleased to claim me for his own. And give himself to me. For him 1 count as gain each loss — Disgrace for him renown ; Well may I glory in his cross, While he prepares my crown ! The poorest Christian may vie estates with all the world; let the world drop down millions of gold and silver, boundless revenues, and crowns and sceptres ; a poor contemptible Christian comes and lays do^vn one God against all these, and beggars them. — Ho2> kins. ■ ■ WEDNESDAY'. " Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart." — Ps. xcvii. 11. Dark, like the moon without the sun, I'd mourn thine absence. Lord; For light or comfort I have none But what thy beams afl'ord. But, lo ! the hour draws near apace, When changes shall be o'er ; Then I shall see thee face to face, And be eclipsed no more. However gloomy our prospect may at any time be, let us wait patiently, as the husbandman doth all the winter, in expectation of a future crop from the seed which lieth buried in the earth. " Light and gladness are sown for the righteous and true-hearted," though they may not yet appear; the seed-time is in this world; the harvest will be in that to come. " In due season we shall reap, if we faint not." Gal. vi. fl. — Home. THURSDAY. " O, Grave, vihere is thy victory ?" — 1 Con. xv. 55. What though corruption's worm Devour this mould'ring flesh. Soon my triumphant spirit comes To put it on afresh. God our Redeemer lives, He knows his people's dust; He'll raise it up a purer frame — Ifis promise is our trust. Chrisfs lying in the grave before us hath quite changed and altered the nature of the grave; so that it is not what it was ; it was once a part of the curse. The grave had the nature and use of a prison, to keep the bodies of sinners against the great assizes; but now it is a bed of rest, yea, and a perfumed bed, where Christ lay before us. O then let not believers fear. He that hath one foot in heaven need not fear to put the other into the grave. — Flavel. Edinburgh : Printed and Published by John Johnstone, Hunter Square. London: R. (jHoombridge it Sonm. Glasgow: J. Ii. M'Nair S: Co. ; and to be had by order of all Booksellers throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 49 ON THE MUTUAL DUTIES OF MASTERS AND SERVANTS IN RELATION TO THE SABBATH. BY THE REV. DAVID KING, LL.D., GLASGOW. Human society presents all varieties of condi- tion. Wealth, station, and power are all dis- tributed in very unequal jiroportions ; and while some have a mcvisure of eaeh, multitudes may be said to have nothing. 'J'liat this diver- sity so far belongs to the constitution of the world, sxs planned by its Maker, cannot be rea- sonably doubted ; and they who would level all such distinctions, iniirjit as well think of re- ducing to a uniform depth the channel of tlie ocean, or transforming our Alpine chains into smooth and velvety meadows. It does not fol- low, however, that (iod instituted these dissimi- larities of lot to dissociate men, and sow dissen- sion among them, and bring them into collision with eacli other. Htrango as it appears at first view, this apjiai-ent incongruity, while it fur- nishes a stimulus to individual competition, is designed and fitted to enhance the intimacy and the felicity of the social compact. The rich and the poor are not, for being such, to separate or to strive, but to "dwell together;" and their inequality of circumstances, if rightly applied, will promote the interchange of the kindest sympathies. In a particular manner, oiit of this circum- stantial disparity arises the relation of master and servant ; and the very word relation speaks to us, not of disseverance, but of associating ties. Nor is there anything in this particular relationship to render it, in itself, obnoxious and undesiral)le ; but very much to commend it, as signally advantageous. It is odious only in its perverted and reprehensible foi-ms. In one view, all are servants, and it is a high honour for any man to be enabled to serve society; and that master knows little of true dignity, who is not gratified by having it in his power to serve a servant by genuine kindness. On tlie other hand, all have, in one view, a mastery; for if tiio servant depends ujion the master, so does the master upon the servant, and every section is necessary to every other section of the commonwealth. Ijut, without attem])ting to exjdain away or unduly to (pialify gradation of class, it is enough, meanwhile, to insist that hapinness is its intended and a]iproi)riatc end. If every one were his own master and servant, there coidd be no or- ganization ; society would be broken up, and nothing great could possibly be accomplished. But when society is classified, and superinten- dence is lodged hci'o, and service is performed there, then as stones individually small form collectively, and in their duo subordination, a spacious edifice; so the members of the human family, though individually weak, become strong No. 6. in their union, and the achievements of men assume a CJod-like magnificence. Nor is it only the interests of commerce which may be thence promoted. The relation has its religious as well as its secular bearings. Masters and servants owe much to each other of spiritual good; and if the connectiou were improved as it ought to be, we would have the joyous spectacle jiresented to us of a present inequality ministering to the certainty and the liapi>iuess of an eternal identification. iJut I need not point out the lamentable dis- tance between what is and what should be. The relation has been corrujjted and degraded. Nothing is sought from it, in many cases, but pecuniary advantage ; and, on the one side and on file other, "every one looks for gain from his quarter." A master talks of the " number of hands," as he would of the number of wheels, and scarcely distinguishes in his thoughts be- tween the men and the machinery. Of course, the compliment is returned, and the men esti- mate their employer solely by the wages which he gives them. Thus the relation is denuded of all its finer and more elevated attributes, and becomes like a once beautiful landscape, which has been stripped of all its garniture — its flowers and shrubbery — its steeps and cascades — its bounding stags and singing birds — and trampled into a thoroughfare of roads and traflic. Not only is the highest good thus forfeited, but the worst of evils are incurred. 'J'he con- nection of master and servant can never cease to be influential; it must be beneficially or mischievously powerful; and when morals and piety are not, promoted by it, it becomes the inevitable source of innnorality and irreligion. Tempoial profiting itself is, in consequence, impaired. In being alone sought, it is not the more secured, but is jeo])ardied and lost. JIuch doing becomes overdoing— labour degenerates into oppression— ^-health and substance suffer from licadlong rivalry, and the land is filled with grievances and heart-burrangs. At present, I am to sjieak of a remedy only in so far as it may be found in a right obser- vance of the yabbath. I5ut this one depart- ment of tlie sid)ject has diversified phases. For exanqde, there are various kinds of service, and tjie nature of the service of course affects very essentially the resulting obligations. Let me view the relation As it is exemplifiod, first. In private dwell- ings; svniX, second, In i)id)lic works. I. I am to speak of the relation of master and servant as exemplified in private dwellings. March 28, ISJS. 50 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. lloro the connection is very close, as the par- ties are enconii;iissed by the same avails, shel- tered by the same roof, and largely intermingle participation in the same gladsome or adverse vicissitudes. This closeness of the connection invests it with the more solemn accountability, ...and must always render it more effective for evil or benefit. 1. Looking first at the duties of those wh.o rule, it is primarily incumbent on them to spare their domestics all superfluous toil on the Lord's- dav. " Thou shalt not do any work, thou nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant." Here the master is addressed on behalf of the servant; because if the master do not impose, the ser- vant has no temptation to perform, desecrating labours. Thou snalt not do, or cause to be done, any work ; that is, any inisuitable work — any servile work which may bo dispensed with, or done the day before, or left undone until the day following. Here I cannot but remark, in passing, how sadly the Sabbath is misconceived, when it is thought of as severe in its charac- ter. It mitigates toil — it is a gift from Heaven to the labouring and heavy laden. What God has given, then, let not man take away. You v/oii!d not keep back their wag&s from your ser- vants— you would think that imjust and base; but if you viUihhold a Sabbatical rest, you are robbing tliem of what is more precious- — what is theirs by a higher title than any human cove- nant, and what menaces Avith destruction every invasion of its blessings. It is nearly a repetition of the last idea, that domestic servants should have all possible faci- lities for attending religious ordinances on the Lord's-day. They are to be allowed the rest, not that it may be spent in idleness and ennui, but that God may be worshipped, and the soul as v/cU as the body find its appropriate repose in trusting to his fidelity and leaning upon his love. Wliat are those claims of yours which you set up in competition with the sanctuary? Are you to bo served seven days, and God not one I The servant is needed at home. But is that need more urgent, more sacred than com- pliance with the proclamation : " Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his pi-esence with singing: enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise ?" Or, have you so few personal shortcomings to account for, that yau will also answer for the guilty inatten- tion of dependants, to the mandate : " Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is ? " I do not say that servants can be ahvays free for church attendance; but the restraint should be the exception, and can be vindicated only by the clearest of neces- sities. Still further, the servant should not only have liberty of attendance on public worship, but should be invited to encircle with master and mistress, parents and offspring, the family altar. This, however, is not a usage for Sab- bath only, but for eveiy day of the week. It is a heathenish house in which it is amissing ; and in some views worse than heatheni. h, for the poor Pagar.s have their household gods, and associated ceremonial; and how shall these rise up in judgment to condemn professing Chris- tians, Avho can allow the sun to rise and se' Tipon them in peace, and never unite in devo- tional acknowledgment of Him who nmde that sun, and gave it lustre, and who has promi.'ied to all his faithful servants a better and more enduring inheritance, which has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God dotli lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof ! But if the neglect of Iv.mily worship be criminal and pernicious on any day, I need not say how the contempt of it is aggra- vated by the sacredness of the Sabbath. Indeed, the day is no Sabbath where such delinquency ])revails; and though the inmates of those prayer- less and praisele?s abodes should be in the very centre of Christian privilege, they are still bxit strangers in Jerusalem, and Canaanites in its temple. Retire, then, from public worship to domestic worstiip, if you would visit your houses and not sin; and let the voice of command and the accents of submission, interchanged by fel- low-creatures, be merged for a tijiie in the con- fession of common sins and the acknowledg- ment of common mercies. I observe, furf-lier, that tlie heads of families should endeavour to benefit servants by a sys- tem of religious instruction on the Lord's-day. We do not expect a field that is never culti- vated to become a garden ; nor does a parent look for proficiency in a child, irrespectively of tuition ; but, somehow, a demand is made on servants to be in all views qualified and faultless, while no pains are bestowed on their mental and moral culture. Are offspring com- mitted to the tnist of parents? — scare servants to masters; and a double injury is done them when they are first neglected in their spiritual interests, and then harshly rejirinianded, per- haps sunmiarily dismissed, for the natural re- sults of such deficient oversight. They should be invited to read the Word of God, by one or other member of the family, and to hear expla- nations of its important truths; and when can this be so seasonabl}'', so leisurely done, and every way to so much advantage, as on the evening of the day of God ? No doubt, they who teach others must, in the first instance, teach themiselves. But* that is just one of the prin- cipal benefits of the measure recommended — its reactive influence on those giving it effect. It would diffuse illumination on all sides, and bless all sections of society, from the least to the greatest. 2. Let us now consider the obligations of servants in private families. I have been stating what your superiors should be and do. But I would caution you against supposing that your responsibility is suspended on their faithfulness. Whatever be THE DEATH-BED OF JOHN KNOX. 51 their conduct, yours should be such as bccometh J saiuts. If you ctuuiot yield them obedience from auy feeUug of personal esteem, still act dutifully towards them, from a jirinciple of jiicty — " with good-will doing service from the heart, as unto the Lord, and not unto men." Ill the piimiiive age of the Gosi)el, the converts were mostly servants, and experienced all kinds of cruel treatment at the hands of their unbe- lieving masters. But the apostles exhorted thcni, notwithstanding, to requite evil with good — to be honest, obliging, and diligent; and the fulfilment of these exhortations was one of tlie principal means of extending the (rospel in those days, and more especially of recommend- ing its princijjles to the higher ranks. Let the example lie more widely followed, and wo shall witness a renewed exhibition of its beneficial effects. But if servants should be faitliful to bad masters, need I say what special res))onsibiIity devolves on those whom Providence has placed in godly families. Esfimate highly such a position. Let no trivial considerations displace yon from its occupancy. And, above all, re- spond gladly to every efi'ort which is made for your improvement. If you do not — if you will not worship with the family, or be "nstructed by them — you not only forfeit these advantages yourselves, and accumulate guilt upon your own heads, but you discourage masters and mis- tresses iii making like attempts with others; and thus perpetuate the evil you have daringly commenced. I hope better things of such as may read this paper, and things that accompany salvation, though I thus speak And happy should I deem myself if I knew that, in any case, a master or a servant were led, 1)y these remarks, to hold sacred a relation heretofore perverted by them, and to make henceforth that use of the distinctions of time which pre- l)ares for the abolition of them, and furnishes the earnest and the foretaste to all classes, of dwelling together in a Father's house of many mansions. The relation of master and servant, as sub- sisting in public works, will bo treated of in a future Number. THE DEATH-BED OF JOHN KNOX. The following intensely affecting nan-ative of the last days of our great lleformer, is extracted from Dr ^I'Crie's " Life of Knox." AVe are aware that, to very many of our readers, it will not be "new;" but we are also afraid, from what has come under our own observation, that imfortunately it will be po to not a few of them. Although the price of the (jenuine edi- tion of the " Life of Knox" has been reduced to less than a thii-d of its original cost, still it is such as to keep the -work from the hands of many who would gladly purchjis.e it if witJiiu the reach of their restricted means. A " cheap" or " People's Edition" of this uoble volume would, we doubt not, be received a.s a great boon by "ma.ssts" of our countrymen, and might prove specially useful at the present time, when I'cpery is putting forth all her efforts to regain her lest ascendancy iii oiir lar.d, and, in so doing, is encouraged and fostered by a pro- fessedly T'rotestant (iovernment. On Sabbath, the Jith ot November 1572, Knox pre- sided at the instaliation of Lawson as his colleague and successor. The sennon was preached by him in the Tolbooth Church; after which he removed, with the audience, to the large church, where he went through the accustomed form of adiuission, by proposing the questions to the minister and people, addressing iui exhortation to both, and praying lor the divine bless- ing upon their connection. On ro former occasion did he give more s.itislaction to those who were able to hear him. After declaring the respective duties of pastor and people, he protested, in the presence of Him to whom he expected soon to give an account, that he had walked among them witli a good con- science, preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ in all sincerity, not studying to jdeass men, nor to gratify his own aflections; he praised God that he had been pleased to give them a pastor in his room, wlien he was now unable to teach ; he fervently prayed that auy gifts -(vhich had been conferred on himself migiit bo augmented a thousundiold in his successor; and, in a most serious and iuipressive manner, he exhorted and charged the ■\vhole assembly to adhere stedfastly to the faith ■ which they had professed. Having finished the service, and pronounced the blessing with a cheerful but exliaustcd voice, he descended from the pulpit, and leaning upon his staff and the arm of vas ■with great difficulty that Lc could sit on a chair. lie was very anxious to meet once more with the session of his church, to leave them his dyiuj^ charge, and bid them a last farewell. In comi)liance with tL:3 wiish, his colleague, the elders, and deacons, 'with Da\-id Lindsay, one of the ministers of JLcith, assem- bled in his room on Monday, the 17tli, when he addressed them in the following words, which made a deep and lasting impression on tlic minds of all : — " The day approaches, and is now before the door, for which I have frequently and vehemently thirsted, vfhen I shall be released from my great labom-s and innumerable sorrows, and shall be with Christ. And now, God is my witness, whom I have served in the spii-it in the Gospel of his Son, that 1 have taught nothing but the true and solid doctrine of the Gospel of the Son of God, and have had it for my only object to instruct the ignorant, to couiii-m the faithful, to comfort the weak, the fearful, and the distressed, by the promises of grace, and to light against the proud and rebellious by the divine threatenings. I know that many have frequently complained, and do still loudly complain, of my too gi-eat severity ; but God knows that my mind was always void of hatred to the per- sons of those against whom I thundered the severest judgments. I cannot deny that I felt the greatest abhorrence at the sins in which they indulged ; but still I ke])t this one thing in view, that, if possible, I might gain them to the Lord. "What influenced me to utter whatever the Lord put into my mouth so boldly, and without respect of persons, was a reve- rential fear of my God, who called, and of his grace appointed, me to be a steward of divine mysteries; and a belief that he will demand an account of the manner in which I have discharged the trust com- mitted to me, when I shall stand at last before liis tribunal. I profess, therefore, before God, and be- fore his holy angels, that I never made merchandise of the sacred Word of God, never studied to jilease men, never indulged my own private passions or those of others; but faithfully distributed the talents in- trusted to me for the eclification of the Church over which I watched. Whatever obloquy wicked men may cast on me respecting this point, 1 rejoice in the testimony of a good conscience. In the meantime, my dear brethren, do you persevere in the eternal truth of the Gospel : wait diligently on the flock over which the Lord hath set you, and which he redeemed wdth the blood of his only begotten Son. And thou, my dearest brother Lawson, tight the good fight, and do the work of the Lord joyfully and resolutely. The Lord from on high bless you, and the whole Church of Eduilnirgh, against whom, as long as they per- severe in the v/ord of truth which they have heard of me, the gates of hell shall not prevail." Those who were present were filled both with joy and grief by this affecting address. After reminding him of the warfare which he had endured, and the triumph which awaited him, and joining in prayer, they took their leave of him di'oivned in tears. After his interview wth the session he became much worse ; his difficulty of breathing increased, and he could not speak without great and obvious pain. Yet he continued still to receive persons of every rank, who came in great numbers to visit him, and sufi'ered none to go away without advices ; which he uttered with such variety and suitableness as astonished those who waited upon him. A religious lady of his acquaintance desired him to praise God for what good he had done, and was be- ginning to speak in his commendation, when he in- terrupted her : " Tongue ! tongue ! lady ; flesh of itself is over-proud, and needs no means to esteem itself." He put her in mind of what had been said to her long ago : " Lady, lady, the black one has never trampit on your futc ;" and eshorted her to lay aside pride, and be clothed with humility. He then pro- tested as to himself, as he had often done belbre, that he relied wholly on the free mercy of God, mani- fested to mankind tlirough his dear Son Jesus Christ, ivhom alone he embraced for wisdom, and righteous- ness, and sanctiflcation, and redemption. On Friday the '21st, he desired Richard Bannatyne to order his coffin to be made. During that day he was much engaged in meditation and prayer. These words di'opped from his lips at intervals: "Come,' Lord Jesus. — Sweet Jesus, into thy hand I commend my spirit. — lie merciful, Lord, to thy Church, which thou hast redeemed. — Give peace to this afflicted com- monwealth.— Raise up faithful pastors who will take the charge of thy Church. — Grant us. Lord, the per- fect hatred of sin, both by the evidences of thy wrath and mercy." In the midst of his meditations, he often addressed those who stood by, in such sentences as these : " O serve the Lord in feai', and death shall not be terrible to you. Nay, blessed shall death be to those who have felt the power of the death of the only begotten Son of God." On Sabbath the SSd (which was the fii-st day of the national fast), during the afternoon sermon, after lying a considerable time quiet, he suddenly ex- claimed : " If any be present, let them come and see the work of God." Thinking that his death was at hand, Bannatyne sent to the Church for J ohnston of Elphmgston. When he came to the bed-side, Knox burst out in these rapturous expressions : " I have been these two last nights in meditation on the troubled state of the Church of God, the spouse of Jesus Christ — despised of the world, but precious in the sight of God. I have called to God for her, and have committed her to her head, Jesus Christ. I have fought against spu'itual Viickedness in heavenly things, and have prevailed. I have been in heaven, and have possession. I have tasted of the heavenly joys where presently I am." He then repeated the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, interjecting devout aspirations between the articles of the latter. After sermon, many came to visit hhn. Perceiv- ing that he breathed with great difficulty, some of them asked if he felt nmch pain. He answei-ed, that he was willing to lie there for years, if God so pleased, and if he continued to shine upon his soul through Jesus Christ. He slept very little; but was em- ployed almost incessantly either in meditation, in prayer, or in exhortation : " Live in Christ. Live in Christ, and then flesh need not fear death. — Lord, grant true pastors to thy Church, that purity of doc- trine may be retained. — Restore peace again to this commonwealth, ■with godly rulers and magistrates. — Once, Lord, make an end of my trouble." Then, stretching his hands towards heaven, he said : " Lord, I commend my spirit, soul, and body, and all, into thy hands. Thou knowest, O Lord, my troubles : I do not murmur against thee." His pious ejaculations were so numerous, that those who waited on him could recollect only a small portion of what he ut- tered ; for seldom was he silent, when they were not employed in reading or in prayer. Wouday, the '24th of November, was the last day that he spent on earth. That morning he could not be persuaded to lie in bed, but, though unable to stand alone, rose between nine and ten o'clock, and put on his stockmgs and doublet. Being conducted to a chair, he sat about half-an-hour ; and then was put to bed again. In the progress of the day, it ap- peared e\ddcnt that his end drew near. Besides his wife and Bannatyne, Campbell of Kinyeancleugh, Johnston of Elphingston, and Dr Preston, three of his most intimate acquaintance, sat by turns at his bed-side. Kinyeancleuch asked him if he had any pain : " It is no painful pain, but such a pain as shall EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLER'S NOTE-BOOK. soon, I trust, put end to the battle. I must leave the care of my wife and children to you," continued he, " to whom you must be a husband in my roora." About three o'clock in the afternoon, one of his eyes failed, and his speech was considerably afi'ected. He desired his wile to read the 15th chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. '• Is not that a comfortable chapter ?" said he, when it was finished; " O what sweet and salutary consolation the Lord has aftbrded me from that chapter!" A little after he said : " Now, for. the last time, I commend my soul, spirit, and body (touching three of his lin;|ers) into thy hand, O Lord." About live o'clock, he said to his wife : " Go, read where I cast my first anchor;" upon which she read the 17th chapter of John's Gospel, and aftenvards a part of Cahin'a sermons on the liphesians. After this he appeared to fall into a slumber, in- terrupted by heavy moans, during which the atten- dants looked every moment for his dissolution, liut at length he awaked, as if from sleep, and being asked the cause of his sighing so deeply, replied : " I have formerly, during my frail life, sustidned m;iny contests, and many assaults of Satan; but at present he hath assailed me most fearfully, and put forth all his strength to devour and malce an end of me at once. Often before has he placed my sins be- fore my eyes — often tempted me to despair — often endeavoured to ensnare me by the allurements of the world ; but these weapons were broken by the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God, and the enemy failed. Now he 1kx.s attacked me in another way : the cun- ning serpent has laboured to jiersuade me that I have merited heaven and eternal blessedness by the faith- ful discharge of my ministry. But blessed be (iod, who has enabled me to beat down and quench this fiery dart, by suggesting to me such passages of Scripture as these : ' AVhat hast thou that thou hast not received ? — By the grace of (-rod I am what I am : — Not I, but the grace of God in me.' Upon this, as one vanquished, he left me. AVherefore I give thiinks to my God through Jesus Christ, who has been pleased to give me the victory ; and I am per- suaded that the tempter shall not again attack me, but, within a sliort time, I shall, without any great pain of body or anguish of mind, exchange this mor- tal and miserable life for a blessed immortality, througli Jesus Christ." He thcTi lay quiet for some hours, except that now and then he desired them to wet his mouth with a little weak ale. At ten o'clock they read the even- ing prayer, which they had delayed beyond the usual hour, from an a]iprehension that he was asleep. After this exercise was concluded, Dr Preston asked him if he had heard the jjrayers. " Would to God," said he, " that you and all men had heard them as I have heard them; I praise God for that heavenly sound." The doctor rose up, and Kinycancleugh sat down before his bed. About eleven o'clock, he gave a deep sigh, and said : " Now it is come." Bannatyne immediately drew near, and desired him to think upon those comfortable promises of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which he had so often declared to others; and, perceiving that he was speechless, re- quested him to give them a sign that he heard them, and die in ]>eace. Upon this he lifted up one of his hands, and, sighing twice, expired without a struggle. THE CHRISTIAN'S GRAVE, WiiRN by a good man's gi'ave I muso alone, Mcthinlcs an angel sits upon the stone. Like those of old, on that tlirice hallowed night. Who sate and watched in raiment heavenly bright ; And, with a voice inspiring joy, not fe.ir. Says, pointing upward, that he is not here, That h« is risen. Rogers. EXTRACTS FROM A TKAVELLERS NOTE BOOK. BY THE REV. W. K. TWEEDIE, EDINBURGH. THE PA.SSES OF THE ALPS. The Kp'.ugen Trap— Tlic Great St IScrnard— Mont Blanc— The Semplon — Mont Ccnis. CoMO, at the lower extremity of the lake which bears its name, is the starting point for the ascent of the Splugen Alp; and that city, not often visited, but exquisitely lovely in its site, seemed, as a first impres- sion, to realize all our anticipations from Italy. In its neighbourhood we found the fig tree, the almond, the peach, the citron, the orange, all uniting to pour their abundance into the lap of man; and, for the first time, the vine appeared in the anticipated luxu- riance, clustering round every cottage, or trained to every tree, insomuch that one ceased to wonder that, in a land like this, sensual men should have made Bacchus a god. — The marble cathedral of Como is at least vast enough to be imposing; and while we walked within its gloomy precincts, and beheld the worshippers come and go, we felt more assured than ever that these children of much igno- rance, and of as strong emotion, were incapable of di-awing the subtle distinction by which Romanists seek to defend the wors'iip of creatures — their )iouXita. and >.a,rpua — their inferior and sui)erior adoration. No one that knov/s the heart of man, as dissected in the Bible, can doubt that va.st multitudes stop short at the image — the thing that is seen — instead of rising, as is pretended, through it, to the Being that is spiritual and divine. Nothing but conversion can save men from that delusion ; and when a man is con- verted, he will need no such auxiliaries to worship as a pamting or a statue. His communion will be with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ; and his adoration will be what God desires — " in spirit and in truth." The sail along the Lake of Como — the Larian Lake of the Romans— is anotlier of those enjoyments which bring out, in strong relief, the transient nature of all earthly things. Here are ruined castles, grey with the antiquity of half a thousand years. There is the Villa Pliniana, the very spot where a learned Roman had his home, and perhaps recorded the thoughts on which we still love to dwell; but now — slat nomiiiis umhra. On the slope of a neighbouring eminence is the Villa U'Este, the abode of one who claims close kindred with the Royal Family of Britain, now said to be poor and in decay, and dependant on the bounty of others. On every side, in short, all is rich or magnifi- cent, but man. As we approach the upper end of the lake, the mountains become more decidedly Alpine; and after passing the entrance to valleys once the scenes of perfidious massacres, and likely to be eo again, did any openly dare to avouch the Christian's (Jod a'.id the Christian's Ihuk as theirs, we landed at tb.e b.i.sc of a mountain, shooting upwards to a height of nine thousajid feet above the level of the l.ikc. Looking back from the Riva on the scene traversed, the gulfs, and bays, and islands of the lake, all made distinct and apparently near, by the transparency of the Italian atmosphere, the thought arises in the 54 THE CHRISTIAN TKEASURY. mind without effort — If such beauty still belong to a world where sin has wrought such havoc, how sur- passmg had its loveliness been had it never become polluted ! But enough is forthwith seen to clieck such thoughts. From the Riva v.here we landed, we hastened to Chiavenna, at the base of the Alp which we intended to climb ; and as we traversed the valley, often devas- tated by torrents from the neighbouring mountains, we saw that, along the borders of the streams, chapels had been reared by superstition, in the hope that the Virgin, or the saint thus honoured, would prevent the floods from spi-eading their devastations over the fields. Though these structures were wisely reared just by the extreme edge of the more ordinary inundations, the wide-spread debris made it all too plain that the temples were not respected by the Avaters — such talismans had no more power than the word of Canute over the flowing tide. If superstition wer« devotion, this valley were an Eden ; but its people are poor and goitrous; so that the decrepitude of man contrasts strangely here ivith the luxuriance of nature. Even the ricliness that fringes the Lake of Como cannot in reality counteract, to the extent of a sand- grain, the misery of which man, as a sinner, is the heir. The remedy for that is thus prescribed : " In ME is thy help found." The repose of the Sabbath was refreshing both to the body and the soul, after the constant excitements of the week. We found, however, that Popery was the sole religion known to exist in the commune of Chia- venna. The versatile Paul Verger, and others, at the time of the Reformation, became the pastors of that town and district ; and for a season the truth found a welcome there. But schisms, wars, and persecutions again drove it thence ; and it must return, ere the town rise from its present state of mental bondage and civil vassalage, under the rule of Austria and the spiri- tual despotism of the Pope. It is true now, as of old — " I beheld, and there was no man; .... there was no counsellor that, when I aslied, could answer a word. Behold, they are all vanity; their works are nothing; their molten images wind and confusion." The ascent of the Splugen Trap is novr an easy task, in consequence of the route constructed over the mountain in 1818-18-2-2. The highest level of the pass is six thousand five hundred and thirteen feet above that of the sea; but from Chiavenna to the village of iSplugen, in the Grisons, the distance is about twenty-four miles, so numerous are the wind- ings of the path. The highest peak of the mountain is nine thousand eight hundred and forty-five feet, and there winter is perpetual ; but only on a small portion of the road is the traveller impeded by snow. At certain seasons of the year avalanches and land- slips occasion danger; but at others, all the gi-andeur of that sterile region may be explored without even inconvenience. From the southern ascent, we saw, as at our feet, the scene of one of those catastrophes not uncommon in this wild land. The village of Piuri, containing two thousand four hundred and thirty people, stood on the southern declivity, or ratlier on one of the spurs of the mountain. A land- slip, that is, an avalanche of rock and earth, detached from the overhangmg mountain of Conto by the percolation of v.ater rending the rock, descended, and in an instant htcrally buried Piuri out of sight. On the 4th of September 1618, between two and three thousand people dwelt securely there ; on the night between that and tlie 5th, they were overwhelmed in the twinkling of an eye — only three of the inhabitants escaped ! A forest of chestnut trees now gxows v.- here that fated village stood; and the masses of rock, themselves a little mountain, forbade every attempt at excavation. At Rossberg, between Zug and Schweitz, v/e had seen a similar scene ; but there the crackling on the mountain gave warning for weeks before of v.'hat was to come. Men flocked, however, to witness the descent when it should take place; among others, a wedding party were there when the land-shp occurred. Four hundred and fifty-seven souls, in spite of all theu' warnings, were crowded to their last account ; and of the married couple, one was taken and the other left. The water- fall of Pianazzo, in the Valley of S. Jia- como, near the summit of this pass, is estimated at eight hundred feet, and is therefore next to the Stau- bach — among the loftiest in Europe; but it is one of the scenes which description has exaggerated. At no great distance, a portion of the French army of reserve, which passed the Splugen when Bonaparte crossed the St Bernard, suffered much from avalanches and whirlwinds, and found only a grave among the glaciers, while they were seeking glory in the butchery of their fellow-men. One man pants for military fame, and ten thousand die to purchase it ; and mad as all this is, the great of earth will have it &o. The descent of the mountam on the north offers nothing peculiar, except the mid grandeur of the district; and, before the sun v.ent down, we were again in" Switzerland. We had been at this time only about one hundi'ed and seventy hcm-s m the Lombardo- Venetian territory of the Emperor of Austria ; yet in that brief period our passports were thrice exa- mined— our names, ages, professions, and designs in travelling tv/ice reported to the police — our baggage searched again and again, and our books regarded v,ith an eye of special suspicion. We had to wait thrice on the custom-house officers, to explain our objects and answer questions; and were once threa- tened to be sent out of the territory by the route by which we entered it, because some functionary had neglected to attach his name to our passports. This lynx-eyed surveillance is rigidly kept up at station after station ; and more than once those with whom we conversed declined communication with us, lest their conduct should be watched and reported. In a civil point of view, this is abundantly harassuig; but a Christian does not deplore it merely on that account. The countries which are thus, in effect, under mili- tary government, and all but martial law, are her- metically sealed against the entrance of the truth — any voice lifted up to proclaim the believer's liberty without compromise would be instantly silenced ; and though the Over- ruler ■s^'ill work, and none can hinder, yet, looking at the continental, and especially the Italian states, the period seems indefinitely distant when the Icingdoms of this world sliall become the kingdoms of the Lord and of his Christ. And yet the very route which we have traversed is helping POETRY— REASONS FOR BELIEF. on that result, by facilituting intercourse; and the feeling of dissatisfaction vill increase the force of the reaction when the set time has come. There are men there, even now, to whom the Bible is precious ; while multitudes arc hungering and tiiirsting for they know not what. We have no doubt that the intro- duction of the Scriptures among them would ignite the dry materials, and perhaps cause a tremendous explosion. But when will the Scriptures, in any adequate quantity, be introduced? Shall we hazard prediction in reply? In the froiii of the next tear. We see no otlicr human means equal to the task of unlocking Italy. Arrived in S\vitzerland again, the Rheinwald be- came the scene of our wanderings for a little. The " Epic River " takes its rise in that region, and a pilgrimage to its fountains is an adventure ivhich none should visit those mountains without making. It is not fed from springs like the Nile, so that no ecstasy could be ours, like that of Bruce when he stood by the source of the riches of E53q)t. Cilaciers, and snows that never wholly melt, give rise to the Rhine ; and ftir up, towards its source, there are many places where we could leap across the stream. The region is one of perfect sterility and " tliick-ribbed ice;" for tlie sides of the mountains are covered with glaciers which stretch from the summit well-nigh to the base. No more appropriate fountain-head could be found for so majestic a stream, and no solitude more deep or unbroken — the bleat of the timid chamois, or the cry of the scared marmot, is the only sound that disturbs the silence, when the tempest is at rest. We followed the course downward, and gradually descended to the country where legend blends its fictions v.ith the tniths of history, to give interest to the canton. The dismantled towers of brigand chiefs, perched on the summit of every eminence along the river, tell that in other lands besides the East, every n.an's hand may be against his brother; and carry back one's thoughts to the times when this whole counti-y was under the control of men scarcely less wild than the chamois, the lynxes, and the wolves, which are still the tenants of those mountains and forests. In the canton of the Grisons alone, which we were now traversing, one hundred and eighty castles in ruins have been counted. The language of the district is multiform; for German, Italian, and Romansch are spoken. The last-mentioned is a dia- lect peculiar, it is said, to this province, and has been preserved, we are told, for twenty- four centuries, for the most part unprintcd, yet unaltered, among the primitive people who inhabit the uplands. Their religion is not more simple than their speech ; for the Popish and the Protestant are strangely blent ; and while the churches of the one arc daubed or conse- crated by the figure of the VLi-ghi, or some other house- hold god, those of the other are rudely inscribed with Scriptural devices. At C'oirc, where the Hefcrmation secured, and still maintains, a looting, though checked by the anomalous dialects of the country, it has rec- tified in some degree the grossncss of Popery ; for we noticed near it the following inscription, monkish at once in its religion and Latinity, though more ortho- dox than many in higher quarters : — EfTigicm Christi, quum transis, semper honora; Non effigiem, sed quern signat, semper ailura. Were it our object to trace the course of the river, the baths of PfefFcrs, Ragatz, Sargans, the Lake of Wallcnstadt (an inexpressibly magnificent scene), Glarus, and other places, might all detain us long. We must, however, hasten on only stopping to conmient on the strange aspect which religion wears in the cantons of St Gall and Glarus, where Popery and Protestantism are equally the reli- gion of the State. Much has been said regarding the harmony with which the two systems are there found to coalesce. But the truth is, as far as our observations and inquiries reached, the adherents of neither system appear seriously to regard their nominal tenets. Popery and Protestantism are so completely opposed, that it is not possible for the two to combine, except at the sacrifice of all that is \-ital in the latter. At Glarus, in particular, were these convictions forced upon our mind. A compro- mise has here been struck between the systems ; the acid and the alkali have met, and all that is pure and spiritual seems to have been thoroughly neutra- lized. In the principal church of that little capital, we saw the most preposterous efibrts made to har- monize the worship of Jehovah with that of images. The Protestants and Romanists use the same temple at diiFerent hours. The crucifix, which is unusually large, emi)loyed by the latter, is raised to the ceiling, and thus placed nearly out of sight, while the former are assembled for worship ; but its appearance, thus suspended in the air, is grotesquely ludicrous. The whole aspect of religion here reminds one of the men in the East who are said to attend mosque on Friday and church on Sunday, expecting to be acknowledged by the true prophet at the last, as they cannot, in the meantime, determine between the claims of God our Saviour and the impostor of Mecca. But death makes men decided and earnest, and however the Protes- tants and Romanists may unite in life, they are care- fully separated when they die. Their dust docs not commingle, for they bury in scp;irate compartments of the cemetery around the common church. The " bland amalgamation of the grave" is not known at Glarus — an emblem this of the eternal separation of truth from error. REASONS FOR BELIEF. What am I ? and from v.'hence ? I nothing know But that I am ; and since I am, conclude Something eternal. Had there e'er been nought, Nought still had been : eternal there nuist be. But what eternal? Why not human race, And Adam's ancestors without an end ? Thafs hard to be conceived; since every link Of that long chained succession is so frail ; Can every part depend and not the whole ? Yet grant it true; new ditticulties rise; Whence earth and these bright orbs? — Eternal too? Grant matter was etenud; still these orbs Would want some other father : much design Is seen in all their motions, all their makes; Design imjilies intelligence and art; 'i'hat can't be from thomsclvcs, or man : tliat art Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow ? And nothing greater yet allowed than man. Wlio motion, foreign to the smallest grain, 56 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Shot through vast masses of enormous weight ? Who bade brute matter's restive lump assume Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly ? Has matter innate motion 'i Then each atom, Asserting its indisputable right To dance, would form an universe of dust. Has matter none ? Then whence these glorious forms And boundless lights from shapeless and reposed 'i Has matter more than motion ? Has it thought, Judgment, and genius ? Is it deeply leanied In mathematics;-' Has it framed such laws Which but to guess a Newton made immortal ? If so, how each sage alone laughs at me, Who tliinks a clod inferior to a man ! If art to i'orm and counsel to conduct, And that with greater far than human skill, Resides not in each block — a Godhead reigns. Grant then invisible, eternal Mind; That granted, all is solved. But granting that, Draw I not o'er me still a darker cloud r' Grant I not that which I can ne'er conceive ? — A Being without origin or end ! Hail, human liberty I- — there is no God. Yet why ? on either scheme the knot subsists : Subsist it must in God, or human race. If in the last, how many knots besides, Indissoluble all ? Why choose it there. Where, chosen, still subsist ten thousand more ? Reject it; where that chosen, all the rest Dispersed, leaves reason's whole horizon clear ? AV'hat vast preponderance is here ! Can reason With louder voice exclaim. Believe a God ? What things impossible must man think true, On any otlier system I and how strange To disbelieve through mere credulity. Young. THE JOURNEY TO EMMAUS. BY THE REV. JONATHAN WATSON, EDINBURGH. Calamities frequently cloud the brightest day of the seven, and render that a season of weeping which had else proved an occasion of purest joy. Who has not known tribulation come in with the week, which has augmented as it rolled on, every new day deepen- ing the gloom, and each night exasperating the afflic- tion— the sufferer's eyes refusing to be closed, till death at length shut them in everlasting repose ? And then has come the Sabbath-day to the bereaved survivors — dark, silent, ever memorable day — spent, not in the courts of Zion, but in the chamber of grief and bitter mourning. To the disciples of Christ what a week was this ! The farewell discoiu'se had been pronounced — the betrayal, the agony, the seizure, the mock trial, the crucifixion, the death and burial of their Blaster, had all been pressed into this one eventful period of time. And what a Sabbath was that which succeeded! Their Lord lay dead in Joseph's tomb, and with him were buried all their hopes, their confidence, and their joy. It proved no day of rest to them, but one of restlessness, anxiety, and despondency. But misfortunes usually draw closer to each other the children of grief. In the softening of the heart, its bursting griefs seek relief in association with kindred spirits. The disconsolate widow seeks not to the gay and the prosperous in her day of calamity ; but to a sister who has passed, or is passing, through deep waters like herself So the two disciples get together, that they might debate the matter of their Master's fortunes — that they might mourn and weep in company— that they might have tlie luxury of fellowship in sorrow, such as they only can know who have diunk of the w^.ters of Marah. And now they go from Jerusalem, the accursed city, v.'here the spot- less victim had been cruelly put to death. A tempo- rary absence from the scene of never-to-be-forgotten biirbarity and nameless crime, might ajipear to offer a particle of relief to their wounded hearts. They selected Emmaus, probably because a convenient distance of seven to eight miles off, and also, that they might relate to deeply sympathizing spirits in the country the heart-harrowing tale which had trans- pired in the city ; or that they might indulge grief amid the stillness and solitude of rural scenery. Our blessed Lord, who was accessory to their plans, alive to their pitiable ignorance ajid their overwhelming griefs, resolved to embrace this as a fitting opportunity for revealing himself, and putting a period to their acute sufferings. And, truly, he is wont to reserve his richest consolations to the hour of our deepest distress. Does he intend good to the widow of Nain ? — he waits till the mourners were actually bearing her dead son to the silent grave. Does he sympathize in the sorrows of the family at Bethany? — but he delays his visit till Lazarus has been dead three days. Or does he design to rescue Paul and his company from impending destruction ? — he brings out his gracious purpose " when all hope that we should be saved was taken away." So here, Cleopas and his brother walked forward to Emmaus, and were '■ sad," too sad for aught on earth to up- raise or to draw oft' their drooping spirits from the one object of intense interest on which their concen- trated affections loved to settle — the death of their Master ! In such circumstances, like water to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country. Light to newly, opened eyes, or healing to the dis- eased, and health to the hopelessly incurable, could not be more welcome than the discovery which was now to burst upon these wo-begone travellers. But we must attend to the manner of his mani- festing himself. The Lord joins them in the way, ui the form of a fello^v-traveller. Having fii-st stole upon them unperceived, and listened to their tale, he enters familiarly into conversation, as one who here- tofore had been a perfect stranger to the tragic events that had taken place in Jerusalem. He makes himself strange to them. Whoin do you speak of .^ — who is Jesus of Nazareth ? — what things have taken place with respect to him? Who does not see in all this the art of Joseph, his once lively and beautiful type ? " Have you a father ? — is he alive, the old man of whom ye spake ? — have you another brother ?" Thus did the governor of the land of Egypt prepare his brethren for the disclosure of the mysterious riddle of his own life and labours ; and just as Joseph's bowels yearned over his brothers, did Jesus' heart yearn over the sorrowing brotherhood, while he made haste to divulge the secret in the manner most effec- tually to impress and convince, and best calculated to ckown them in rapturous joy. lie discourses on the Scripture account of Messiah ; he is the text — MniselJ i\\e. man; and, charmed with the unfolding of the sacred page, and with the new and wonderful COMMUNION SABCATII IN A COLOURED CONGREGATION. 57 light which the l^ nknown threw around the subject, at once the most iuterestiiig and incomprehensible to thcni, they bog that he would turn in with them to the cottage now belbrc them, and pass the night in an exercise which had already beguiled the way, and gone far to ii-radiate the darkness in which they groped. lie is easily persuaded; lor they only anti- cipate his own design. Food is spread on the table, and the God of providence must be acknowledged ; l>ut who shall be the mouth of the company — Clcopas, his brother, or the mysterious stranger? i/c waits not for invitation, but pours forth his soul in a strain ol' devotion, so elevated as to thrill their hearts and olve the charm — " they knew him, and he lishcd!" the resurrection-body being endowed v.ith mysterious power of visibility or invisibility at pleasure, and of a celerity in locomotion, like that of the living creatures seen by Ezekicl, who " went and came like a flash of lightning." And now may we not remark, that the eifects which remain leave intuitive cadence of the charac- ter of the Visitor ? " Did not our hearts bm-n witliin us when he talked with us by the way, and when he opened to us the Scriptures ? " He called us " fools ; " and fools indeed were we, not to have discovered the character of our fellow-traveller; for who but our blessed Master himself could have thus broken the seal of prophecy, and set our hearts on fire with the glad tidings of great joy, that "Christ »«?(«< needs hnYa suffered these things, and entered into liis glory." The Lord Jesus leaves, where he visits, hearts burn- ing with the love of sacred truth. Its disclosures — the wisdom, the wondrous ada]itation with which it is framed to meet man's moral necessities — the divine beauty, the transcendent glory jvhich beams on the plan of mercy — ravishes the soul with ecstatic delight, imparting a "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Where he is the teacher, the flames of holy desire arise, to penetrate yet deeper and deeper into the mind of^God, and to exploi-e the hidden riches of boundless grace which have their abode there. Other descriptions of knowledge may bless the in- tellect, but the excellent knowledge of Christ blesses the lieart. Philosophy leaves it cold and cheerless, if it does not introduce its disciple into regions of scepticism. " He that increaseth knowledge in- crcascth sorrow," inasnmch as it creates an insatiable appetite, which it is unable to gratify ; but where Christ comes he breathes full upon the soul, " Receive ye the Holy (ihost;" and forthwith, blest satisfaction steals through all the powers of the inner man; it is found to be " life eternal to know the only true God, and .fesus Christ whom he has sent." Burning zeal is enkindled there also. It is evident that Cleopas and his companion meant to remain at Emmaus over the night ; but it was found impossible to fulfil their design. Night had spread her mantle over a slum- Itering world, laying to sleep both man and beast; but the fire which had been kindled in the breasts of the disciples could neither be extinguished nor re- pressed— they " arose the same hour and returned to .lerusalem," to bear the welcome tidings to their b/ethren that the Lord was risen. Neither will it be possible for a genuine Christian poTT to remain silent sind motionless. The spirit which has been called into a new and happy exist- ence, through the revelation of Christ in his true character, must dill'use the swelling joy. He cannot contain it; there is felt to be enough for himself — enough for all — in the person and work of his blessed Saviour, and to spread the tidings becomes his high ambition. Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God — hia death is an atonement for the whole world — his resur- rection establishes the truth — doubt is at an end — eternal life abides the reception of the message. " Look unto me all ye ends of the earth and be saved; for I am God, and there is none else." Thus uU genuine Christian feeling must spring from a spiritual discernment of the meaning of the Scriptures ; and all religious zeal of a right stamp must originate in the same source. True Christianity is active, lively, vigorous, diffusive. It rejoices in its own spiritual opulence; but [it dares not monopolize its wealth, which seems to augment by being distributed. It cannot be too deeply impressed, that true reli- gion is a thing of the heart — that it creates and keeps up a burning of the affections. Heads may be full of notional Cliristianity ; there, in the liigher regions, the sickly moonbeams of a barren sentimentahsm may play to the amusement of the subject, and of many others beside ; but where the Spirit of the Lord dwells, the heart, the vitals of the man, become the seat of a divine, j'et a rational enthusiasm, which neither the remaining depravity within can overlay, nor the chilling influence without quench. Happy soul whom Jesus has thus kindly met by the way — to whom he has revealed his secret and incommunicable name! — he has warmed thy heart with the song which no man can learn save the hundred and forty-four thousand who have been redeemed from the earth. Bless him, evermore bless him ; but, seek opportuni- ties, in the journey of life, to introduce him to the acquaintance of thy fellow-sinners, that they, too, may become his admirers and partakers of thy joy. Amen. A COMMUNION SABBATH IN A COLOURED CONGREGATION. (From Lewis's Impressions of America.) AVe expected to be in Mobile early on Sabbath morn- ing, or late on Saturday night, but were agam de- tained by the darkness of the night and low state of the river. There is little distinction on board to mark the Sabbath. The nuite has got on his best coat, and there is no one playing at cards. One jias- senger has his Bible in his "hand. No opportunity offers for a public religious service, as we expect to be in Mobile soon after breakfast. The population of Mobile is between sixteen thou- sand and twenty thousand souls, and was originally a Spanish settlement. It has only started into im- ])ortancc within the last ten years. As we landed on the wharfs, I was pleased to observe most of tlie stores closed. Those that wxre open, I was told, were the stores of Frenchmen, Spaniards, or Jews. I proceeded inmiediatcly to the church of Dr Ha- milton, and found the morning service almost con- cluded. There being no service in the afternoon in his own church, ])r Hamilton, at my desire, took me to the African Methodist Church, where it happened to be the communion. There were not fewer than a thou- 58 THE CrmiSTIAN TREASURY. sand blacks present. The officiating minister was a white man, who, two yeai-s bel'ore, had been their p;istor, and was now only on a visit. His sermon was sensible and atfoctionate. The Negroes echoed every seutinieut that pleased them by an audible " Amen I " or " (i lory be to thy name ! " or " Truth. Lord ! " When ho alluded, towards the close of the discourse, to his former labours amongst them, the females, who s.it on one side of the church by themselves, began to weeji ; when he warned them against backsliding, and al- luded to some of whose evil courses he had learned, to his great sorrow, and from whom he had hoped better things, the weei)ing waxed louder and louder. The coninmnion was then celebrated; the commu- nicants coming up to the rails enclosing the table, or, as they call it, altar. '1 he females knelt on one side of the railing, and the men on the other — thirty coming up at a time to receive the sacrament. The minister stood withui the rail, before the communion table. The black deacons of the ciiurch stood around, read}' to assist the pastor in distributing the ele- ments. AVo were requested to ac| for the time as deacons; and being told by the pastor that this would be expected, we cheerfully complied ; and the black deacons attended to the marshalling of the commu- nicants as they came up and retired. All received the elements kneeling, with much solemnity, and few without tears in then- eyes, or running down their dark cheeks. The interval between each service was occupied by singing hynms, as in Scotland, by the congregation; and the singing was so lull of heart, and so sweet, that the melody, and the sight of their earnestness of soul, melted me into tears. 1 sat dowE with them to celebrati the love of Him wnose love knows no colour — before whom all are black and need washing in the same blood. Dr Hamilton was asked to close the service as it h id begun, with ])rayer, wheii we all knelt. In a few touching words he gave ihaidcs for the unspeakable gift of Christ, which drev.' forth a universal echo from the congregation. When he gave thanks that in Christ Jesus there was neither black nor white, bond nor free, master nor servant, that all were one in him, the whole congregation burst forth in a voice of mournful joy: " God be praised ! Glory be to thy name ! " The sacrament of the supper ivas followed by the bajitism of about thirty children and adults. The pastor made an exhortation, and put some questions, to which the parties bowed or curtsied assent. The adults then knelt doA'.'n, and water was poured on their heads, with the usual words. The parents and relatives then brought the children, 'whom the minis- ter took, one after another, in his arms, after the manner ff the Church of England; and with.out any sign of the cross, or any other ceremony than the worcs of the institution, poured water upon each child. I saw a young man that looked as white as a Evn-opcan, and whose features were also European, rcme up with his wife an 1 child. 1 thought at first that he was an American, until on inquiry 1 learned th;;t both he and his wife were slaves, and that the little one they brought to dedicate to Christ was the property oi' their master, as much as their own flesh, blood, and bones. The deacons in the African Church act as our Scotch elders, not only waiting on the members at the communion, but holding prayer-meetings. A FAMILY OF SCOTCH EMIQRAMS. Here I have met an interesting Scotch family from Jie neighbourhood of (Glasgow, consistingof the wor- thy parents, now tui-ning down the hill, and a family of four sons and a d;;ugliter. The history of their migi-ations afforded me nuich interest. They landed, with their infant children, at New York, and there made their fii'st essay in the New World. After be- ginning to take root, they were torn up by misfor- tunes. '1 hey then packed up all the family and all their goods in a waggon, and proceeded southward, all the world before tiicni, not knowing whither they Avere going. In Vuginia they settled a while, and made their early Scottish school education available in teaching the children of the planters, from whom they experienced much kindness, and were entreated to settle amongst them. But again they betook themselves to their ■waggon, possessed by that wan- dering spirit which, once indulged by a Scotchman, though the mobt difficult of all men to uproot from his native soil, makes him roll on in search of adven- tures, and of a happmess which, like the horizon, Hies from him as he approaches. At length this worthy pair, with their waggon and family, reached Mobile, settled, and were begmning to take root, when the lire of liiby burned the house they had built, and consumed all the earnings of several years' industry. Nothmg dismayed, instead of " folding their hands, and eating their ownHesh" like the fool, they put their trust in Him who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. Amidst the plague t» hich then desolated JIo- bile, they set about repairing their misfortunes, and I have been enabled, through industry and economy, to save a few thousand dollars, with which they have purchased a dwciiing-house and workshop, and with their family around them, promise aguin, by the blessing of God, to tlirive and take root in this southern region. I was gratified to find the old man had assembled his children, after the Scottish fashion, " to worship God." Both parents could enumerate Scottish martyrs among their ancestors in Lanark- saire, aiia rejoiced to speak of their memor}', and of the spirit of tlie martyrs tiiat seemed to animate the Free Church of Scotland. I felt quite at home at their table, and in their society ; and was pleased to learn from an American ladyj that the mother of this promising family, while a notable woman at heme, took her part zealously and heartily in every good work in the Church, and ^'as never to be missed at the meetings :ind" conferences of the Church for prayer. This niinily is one of the best specimens of our Scottish emigrants that I have met with. They emigrated before they lost all — when their fortunes were falling rather than i'allen — bel'ore adversity had impaired their spirit and courage, soured their tem- pers, or reduced them to despair. With spirits un- broken— with tlie best principles, and the best train- ing of the sons and daughters of Scotland — they en- tered the New World, and, amidst all their ups and downs, they neve:^ lost their first love and early prin- ciples. 'J heir nxisfortunes have only softened their hearts, and made them mora feelingly alive to the goodness of God and the misfortunes of others. A colony of such families, so taught and trained, and so disciplined by misfortune, would make a noble nation. now TO SPEAK TO THE HEART. A Presbyterian minister of the United States, an American by birth, but of Scottish parentage, hap- pening to be in the city of New Orleans, was re- quested to visit an old Scottish soldier who had wan- dered thither, and having been attacked by the yel- low fever, was conveyed to the hospital in a dying state. On announcing his errand, the sick soldier told him in a surly tone that he desired none of his visits — that he knew how to die without a priest. The minister replied that he was no priest, but a Presbyterian clergyman come to read to him the Word of God, and to speak of that eternity to which he seemed drawing near. The Scot doggedly re- fused all conversition, and after lingering a few minutes, the minister was reluctantly compelled to take his leave. Next day, however, he called again, thinking the reflections of the man on his own rude- SUPPRESSION OP A PRAYER-MEETING AT ROME. 59 ncss might secure a better reception on a second visit. But the soldiers tone and manner were equally rude iiud repuisive. He turned himself in bed, ivith his face to the wall, as if detcnnincd to hear nothing and relent nothing. As a last eti'ort to gain attention, he bethought himself of the hymn, well knoAvn in Scotland, the composition, it is sup- posed, of David Dicksou of Irvine, one of the wor- thies of Scotland : — O mother de.ir, Jerusalem I Wlien shall I com;.- to thco? When shall my sorrows have an end ? — Thy joys when shall 1 sue ? This hymn his Scottish motiior liad taught him to sing, when a child, to the tune of " Uunuee." He beijun to hum his mother's hynm to his mother's tune. The soldier listened for a few moments in silence, but gradually turning himself round, his countenance re- laxed, and the tear in his eye, he inquired, " Wha learned you that ? " " j\Iy mother," said the minister; " And so did mhie," replied the now softened and re- lenting soldier, whose heart was melted by the recol- lections of infancy, and who was now prepared to give a willing ear "to the man that had found the key to his Scottish heart. SPRING. The glad birds arc ^nging, The g,iy flowerets springing O'er meadow ar)d mountain, and down in the Tale; The green leaves are bursting, My spirit is thirsting To bask in the sunbeams, and breathe the fresh gale. Sweet season ! appealing 'J'o fancy and feeling, Be thy advent the emblem of all I v/ould crave — Of light more than vernai, That day-spring eternal Which shall dawn on the dark wintry night of the grave ! Barton. SUPPRESSION OF A PRAYER-MEETING AT ROJIE. From a tract lately published, entitled " The Ro- manism of Italy," by Sir Culling Eardley Smith, wo extract the statement which follows, and which will speak for itself: — During the last winter, weekly meetings of Eng- lish Protestants were held in my lodgings in the Via Gregoriana, for reading the Epistle to the Romans and for worship. A dignitary of the Church of England presided, and members and ministers of many denominations, British, Swiss, and German, were occasionally pre- sent. One meeting, rather more numerous than the rest, was held on the "2 th Mtirch last, at which a collection was made for the Church and London Mis- sionary Societies. t)n the (Jtii of April, my landlord, Signer Giuseppe Dies, was summoned before the police, when a precept (so called) was given to him vivd voce. This was afterwards reduced to ivriting, and he was required to sign it, in acknowledgment of hav- ing received the intimation. No cojiy was furnished him, and I am therefore dependant on his memory for its contents. As, however, 1 saw him very shortly after hia return from the police, and took down the words from his own lips, I have no doubt that his version is substantially correct. The docu- ment, as far as he could recollect it, ran as follows : — TR ANSI, ATI O.V. " Joseph Dies, son of the late Ignazio, a Roman, was summoned before the High PoUce by mc, Bug- lioiii; and it was given to him as a precept, that he was not .at liberty to let his lodging-hous2 tc persons of ;;ny nation that may be Jlethodists; with tlie pro- hibition, moreover, of the use of his kitchen veser- cizio della cucina). If he docs not observe the afore- said percept. Signer Dies will be subjected to the closing of his lodging-house (inabilitazione dclla locanda). " Two Witnesses. , Joseph Dies." I should mention that Signer Dics"s lodging-house is one of the largest in Rome, and is let out in floors, or suites of rooms, to several families. The kitchen is a separate enteritrise, and supplies not only the families in the house, but any otlieis who may wish to use it. Signer Dies wivs given to understand that he would be at liberty, under this order, to continue to supply families actually residing at that time imder his roof, until they should leave Rome; but, with this exception, the order would take full eti'ect. Signer Dies informed me of this proi;ccding, and consulted me how he should act. He asked me in particular how he was to distinguish a Methodist family. I told him that, as far as 1 was aware, there were no members of the Methodist denomination of Protestants at that time in Rome, and that, therefore, the word could only bo used in the sense of xcnous l-'roU'nUints, of whom there were gi'eat numbers ol various denominations. I added, that it seemed to me a very serious step on the p;irt of the Govern- ment, to compel him to inquire into the private and personal religion of foreigners, and that I thought English families who might be disposed to engage rooms in his house, would be justly oifended if he asked them questions about theii- religious opinions before accepting them as tenants. It appeared, in fact, to be an extension of the Inquisition to the Pro- testant residents in Rome. The subject, however, of practical and immediate moment to Signer Dies, was the closing of his kit- chen. By the advice of his friends he made a strong re- presentation to the Government, of the ruin which would be thus brougiit lipon himself and his family, and requested the removal of the precept. He re- ceived for answer (as he informed me), that the in- junction respecting the kitchen would be imme- diately taken off, pruvided the meetiuf/s in my rooms were disconliiiued. On learning this, my friends and myself of course resolved to hold no more meetings. We made the change known to all persons who were in the habit of attending, and whoso addresses we knew; and for the information of those fi-iends of whose residence we were ignorant, the following notice w;vs put up at the entrance of the house, on the morning of the next intended meeting : — " The meetings in Sir Culling Smith's rooms are stopped by order of the police. The Lmdlord has received a jirecello, not to let his apartments any more to METiioni.STs, with a prohibition to have a public kitchen in his house. " The latter prohibition has been suspended, on condition that there are no more meetings. " Under these circumstances, it has been thought best not to hold the meeting to-day. " April mh, 1S44. The prohibition to let apartments to Methodists, I understand to be still in force. 60 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. T liaili? BrcaO. FRIDAY. " Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believetli."— Rom. x. 4. When free grace awoke me, by light from on high, When legal fears shook me, 1 trembled to die ; No refuge, no safety, in self could I see — Jehovah-Xsidkeriu my Saviour must be. . C God showed me I was lost, if I had not Christ, because I had been a sinner; I saw that I wanted a perfect righteousness to present me withovit fault before God, and this righteousness was nowhere to be found but in the person of Jesus Christ. — Bimyan. SATURDAY. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind."— Matt. xxii. 37. O Lord, we cast our care on thee — We triumph and adore ; Henceforth our great concern shall be, To love and please thee more. The love of God, that supremely glorious and supremely gracious Being, is, of all other tempers, the most delightful and divine; a sacred flower which, in its early bud, is happiness, and in its full bloom, is heayen. To plant this noble principle in the breast — to cultivate its growth, and bring it to maturity— is the grand end of all religion, and the genuine fruit of faith unfeigned. — Ilervey. ' All things work together for good to them that love God."— KoM. viii. 28. O happy he whose hopes depend Upon the Lord alone ; The soul that trusts in such a friend Can ne'er be overthrown. Though gourds should wither, cisterns break. And creature-comforts die. No change his solid hope can shake, .Or stop his sure supply. The work is on the wheel, and every movement of the wheel is for your benefit. All the events that take place in the world carry on the same work — the glory of the Father and the salvation of his children. Every illness and infirmity that may seize you, every loss you may meet with, every reproach j'ou may endure, every shame that may colour your faces, every sor- row in your hearts, your every agony and pain, every aching in 3'our bones, are for your good; every change in your condition — your f:ur weather and your rough weather, your sunny and your cloudy weather, your ebbing and your flowing, your liberty a"nd your im- prisonment— all turn out for your good. The Lord is at work ; all creation is at work ; men and angels, friends and foes — all are busy, working together for good to you. — Roidands. ' We would see Jesus." — John xii. 21. O come, this wondrous one behold — The promised Saviour ; this is he. Whom ancient prophecies foretold. Born from our guilt to set us free. Oh ! did we but know ourselves and onr Saviour ! "We are poor, but he is rich; we are dead, but he is life; we are sin, but be is righteousness; we are guiltiness, but he is grace; we are misery, but he is mercy ; we are lost, but he is salvation. If we are willing, he never was otherwise. He ever lives, ever loves, ever pities, ever pleads, lie loves and saves to the uttermost all that come unto him. — Mason. " Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ?" 1 Cor. i. 20. Men this world's wisdom seek and gain — That wisdom which God calleth vain ; But, oh ! are strangers still ; To that which makes our spirits wise. And sets before our waiting eyes What is our Saviour's will. Some may be ready to envy the death of the scholar. His name is announced in the journals with all his honours. Some masterly pen is immediately engaged to publish his life and his works. The marble perpetuates his name, and his bones arc en- tombed by the side of poets and philosophers. But the soul — where is this '? Alas I he was great every- where but in the sight of the Lord. He could speak every language but the language of Canaan. He knew everything but the one thing needful. But see that cottager, on yonder pallet of straw. He is dying fameless and unknown; but he knows Christ Jesus the Lord, and knows that in him he has righ- teousness and strength. And the excellency of this knowledge raises him above the feai" of death, re- freshes his fainting spirit, opens a heaven m his heart, and brings angels near. Let me go and die with him ! —Jay WEDNESDAY'. " Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness ; and all these things shall be added unto you." — Matt. vi. aS Poor, weak, and worthless though I am, 1 have a rich almighty Friend — Jesus, the Saviour, is his name; He freely loves, and to the end. Get Christ, and get all ; want him, and want all. A man that catches at the shadow, loses the substance ; but get the substance, and you get the shadow with it. So long as you look after other things beside Christ, you lose him ; but if you get him, you get the shadoiv of all— you get life, and peace, and comfort, and all that your hearts can desire. Be content to lose all to get him who is so precious, and who, when you have got, you shall be sure never to lose.— A'«;- ton. TIIIRSDAY. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." — I Coit. ii. 9. High in yonder realms of light. Far above these lower skies. Fair and exquisitely bright. Heaven's unfading mansions rise. Heaven is a place where all joy is enjoyed — mirth without sadness, liglit without darkness, sweetness without bitterness, life without death, rest without labour, plenty without poverty. O what joy enter- eth into a believer, when he enters into the glory of his I\Iaster ! Who would not look for glory with the gi-eatest patience ? O Vvhat glories are there in glory ! Thrones of glory, crowns of glory, vessels of glory; a weight of glory, a kingdom of glory. Here Christ puts grace upon his spouse ; but there he puts his glory upon his spouse. In heaven the crown is made lor them, and in heaven the crown shall be worn by them. — Dyer. *** A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, will in future be published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh: Printed by John Jounstonc, residing at ?, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. Groomhridoe iV Sons, Glas- gow : J. R. M'Nair & Co. ; and to be had of any Book- seller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 61 THE REFORMATION VIEWED AS THE RESURRECTION OF SCRIPTURAL TRUTHS. BY THE REV. THOMAS M'CRIE, EDINBURGH. The history of man, as well as of nations, has its seasons of rise and fall — of death and resur- rection. 'J'liere have l)een periods in the world's history, wlicn the attainments of early nulsations were felt in the remotest regions of Europe. It was ])y the prayerful and persevering study of the Holy Scriptures, a copy of which he found in his convent, that Luther hrst aeiiuired those views of divine truth which, gradually ex- No. 6. panding and unfolding as he advanced into the full-formed Gospel of Christ, made him a new man, and ushered him into a new world. And it is with feelings of no common interest that the reader of his life traces the course of this truly great man, from the moment that the truth dawned upon his mind, through the varied inci- dents of his progress. We dwell with delight on the heroic resistance he made, at the outset of his career, to the profligate sale of indulgences — his triuinpiiaut encounter with Tetzel and the Romish doctors. W^e hang vnW\ breathless sus- pense over his journey to the city of Worms, there to confront the emperor, surrounded by a multitude of princes, nobles, archljisliops, bishops, and j-epresentatives from almost every kingdom in Europe, such as never, perhaps, convened before — to confront them alone, single-handed and unprotected, except by a safe-conduct Avhich ho kncvi^ had formerly been basely violated in the case of IIuss. We hear him, with undaunted courage, re- plying to the entreaties of his friends not to enter the city : " Go and tell your master, that though there were as many devils iu Worms as there are tiles on the roofs, I would enter it;" and when they said, " They will burn you to ashes, as they did John lluss," replying, with equal fiminess, " Though they should make a tire reaching from Worms to Wittcmberg, and rising to the sky, I would pass through it in the name of the Lord — I would appear before them — I would enter into the mouth of that Behemoth, and confess the Lord Jesus Christ '." Finally, we rejoice to see liim terminating his days in peace, after having been the instrument of imparting to unnum- bered thousands the blessings of an opened Bible, a recovered Gospel, and a purified C'iurch. But the ])ious reader of this won- drous history will bo at no loss to discover the real secret of his success. Nothing will be more deeply impressed on his mintl than the conviction, that Luther would never have become a Reformer had he not first become a Christian; that the Reformation owed its suc- cess to the operation on the hearts of men of those same ti"uths which first convinced Luther that he was a sinner, and laid him, a trem- bling but hopeful penitent, at the foot of the cross. We have said that Luther found his religion in the ]5iblc ; and it was not long before he dis- covered that, in every vital jioiut, it was at variance with the system of I'opery. One by one the abominations of that " mystery of ini- '^ApriU, 1S46. 62 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ([uity" rose into view, until it glared on liim in all its moastrous proportions — the Antichrist of Scripture, the JNIan of Sin, and Son of Per- dition. On the other hand, in direct contrast, " the Mystery of Godliness" evolved itself, and the Temple of Truth was seen standing, as the rubbish was removed from it, fresh and fair, in all its beautiful joroportions, as it was at the beginning. The discovery filled him witli mingled feelings of amazement and delight — similar to what, we may suppose, would be ex- perienced by the late discovery of the ancient cities of Herculaneum, which, built in the palmy days of Rome, but buried for ages under the burning lava of Vesuvius, immediately upon removing the rubbish, presented them- selves standing entire — streets and houses, pillars and porticoes — as they stood at the fatal hour when first entombed in their fiery sepulchre. The Reformation, therefore, was ti-uly what we have represented it — the resurrection of Scripture truths. If we are asked, What Scrip- ture truths were thenrevived ? we might answer with perfect propriety, that the u-Jio'e of revealed truth, viewed as ^■^criptiire truth, was then re- vived ; for the whole may be considered as having been buried witii the Scriptures. When once the Pope had succeeded in his blasphemous attempt to substitute his authority in place of that of Holy Scripture, and liad withdrawn the Word of God from the sight of men, " exalting himself above all that is called God and that is worshipped," it mattered little, in one respect, what truths materially scriptural were retained under the Papacy. The true foundation of faith was thus moved away; and thenceforth the faith which might be accorded to any scrip- tural truth rested not on " the power of God," but on " the M'isdom of man." The truth might be believed, but it was believed not on the testimony of God, but of man; and of man, too, " sitting in the temple of God," and assuming his prerogatives. Some Protestants have gone so far, in the excess of their charity, as to maintain that, with all her corruptions, the Church of Rome retained all the cardinal truths of Christianity — such as the inspiration of Scripture, the Trinity, the divinity of the Siiviour, and even the atone- ment of the cross ; and that Popery erred rather in excess than iu defect, in requiring men to believe too much — not only to believe in what was j-evealed, but in more than was re- vealed. We might well ask, in reply to such representations, Can the blind, implicit faith of the Papist be compared with the enlightened faith of the Protestant ? — can faith in the Church be put into the same category with faith in the Word of the living God ? But it ought to be remembered, that the truths ac- knowledged by the Romish Church were all neutralized and nullified by tlie opposite errors with which they were associated. Of what avail was it to confess the divine authority of Scripture, while the same honour was paid to human traditions ? Of what avail to acknow- ledge the Trinity and the divinity of the Saviour, while angels and a whole host of saints were exalted to divine lionours, and the Virgin Mary extolled much higher than the Sou of God ? And of what avail to profess the atonement of Christ, when the merit of salvation was shared by him in common with a multiplicity of earthly and heavenly mediators, and ascribed with an equal or not higher degree of confidence to the good works of the sinner himself? Did our Lord speak the more leniently of the errors of the Scribes and Pharisees iu his day, because they still professed some regard to Moses and the propliets, or retained some of the institu- tions of divine worship ? No ; he denounced the practised corruption as subversive of the professed truth : " Woe unto you, for ye have made void the law of God by your traditions." " In vain do tliey worship me, teaching for doc- trines the commandments of men." It has been the policy of Popery to retain a substratum, or i-ather a sprinkling, of truth, in order to give currency to its errors, and a colour to its im- postures. It is to the perversion of the Gospel of Christ, indeed, that it owes its success. And well do its interested supporters know how much they have been indebted to it. " How much," said one of the Popes, after receiving a vast sum for indulgences transmitted to Rome from foreign countries, " How much are we indebted to that Galilean! " If we look more closely to those doctrines which directly concern salvation, and which have been called the doctrines of grace, how miserably were they all corrupted under Popery. What a deplorable pictaire is that drawn by Myconius, a man who was long a monk himself, and subsequently an associate of Luther : — " The sufferings and satisfaction of Christ were treated as a vain fable, somev/hat like the Odyssey of Homer. On the subject of faith, that grace by which the righteousness of the Saviour is apprehended, and through it the in- heritance of life obtained, a profound silence was observed. Jesus Christ was repi-esented as a cruel judge, ready to condemn all who did not avail themselves of the intercessions of the saints, and the indulgences of the Pope. In his place they substituted, in the first place, the Virgin Mary, like the Diana of Paganism, and after her a crowd of saints, the list of whom was daily swelled with new creations by the Popes. To obtain the favour of these deities certain services were exacted — not the duties of the decalogue, but works of merit invented by the priests — acts of the most debasing kind; but such as to bring as much money as pot sible into their coffers. The people fiockcd to the convents— those i-eceptacles of debauchery and licentiousness — laden with money and jewels, fowls, eggs, butter, and cheese ; and then there might be heard the chanting of prayers and the chiming of bells, strangely mingled with BRIEF NOTICE OF JONATHAN EDWARDS 6S the chinki^ig of glasses and tlio kitchen pre- parations for rovehy; the whole being con- chided by tlie solemn celebration of mass."* In opposition to all this pen-ersion and comip- tion, the Reformers re-asserted the grf;it saving truths of the Gospel of Christ. But the first jioint which they set themselves to establish, was the sole infallible authority of tlie Word of God. This was the primary and fundamental princijde of the Reformation. All the subsequent reforms in the doctrine, as well as in the government, ritual, and morals of the Ciiurcli, may be traced back to tlie successftil establishment and apjili- catiou of this first principle. It is hardly jios- sible, in the present day, to conceive the effect which must have been produced by this ele- mentary truth, so obvious, and yet so long over- looked and borne down. Before this sacred ark of the testament the image of Dagon fell down, and was liroken in jnecos. Thenceforth the writings of the fathers, the decrees of councils, the bulls and decretals of the Pope, ceased to be reg-arded as any part of tlie rule of faith, and every doctrine was brought to the test of " the law and the testimony." In con- r.ofHon with this, was the right of the Christian people to enjoy the Scriptures in their own lan- guage, and to peruse and search them jn the free exercise of their private judgment. This invaluable privilege, so long denied thorn, was speedily obtained. Through the labours of Luther and Melancthon, the Scriptures were translated into Gennau, and the pages of that book which is able to make wise vmto salva- tion were thrown open to the inspection of all. Nor was this all. The preaching of tlie Gosjiel — that ordinance of life which had been so long prostituted or laid aside — was revived in all its primitive purity, and attended with abnost all its ])rimitive power. The wiitings of Luther, in which the doctrines of Scripture were simply explained, and the opposite eiToi-s boldly con- demned, spread with unexamjiled rapidity ; and such was the power of the Word of God, with the energetic principles of which they were impregnated, and to which they owed all their success, that in the course of three years the gigantic system of Poiien-, tlie growth of upwards of a thousand years, and raised by pontifical decrees, scholastic subtleties, monk- ish fables, and regal violence, to the highest pinnacle of power and siilendour, began to totter, and in a short time fell into disgrace. As the tinith dawned upon the minds of men, they began to see tliat Popeiy was neitlier more nor less than the great Antichrist of Scrip- ture; and that h(? who sat on the Papal throne was the Man of Sin. This discovery, which Luther himself was slow to make, but which, once made, he was not slow to avow, proved the death-blow of Popery. Faith in the Divine Word, supplanted that Avhicli till now liad been conceded to the Church alone; and the power of the Pope, long the object of the people's • Scckendorir, Hist. Luth., lib. i., p. 4. adoration, now became that of its horror aad detestation. A statement of those peculiar doctrines of Scripture, which were revived at the Reforma- tion, must be deferred to another paper. BRIEF NOTICE OF JONATHAN EDWARDS. BY REV. JOHN FAIUBAIRN, ALLANTON. Jonathan Edwards was horn at East Windsor, U.S., in the year 1703, and was entered a student in Yale College in 171 G. Until he entered college his educa- tion was conducted under the paternal roof. His father, who was a learned and godly man, devoted a portion of his time and ruuch of his attention to the education of his family, and whilst no branch of useful study taught at the time and place was neglected, very great pains were bestowed by Llr Edwards on tbeii- religious training. His zeal, dili- gence, and prayers, seem to have been abunuantly blessed and answered, not only in respect to Jonathan, but also as concerned his other children ; from which, and many other Uke instances, parents should ta;;o encouragement to persevere diligently in that most important and responsible branch of their duty — the bringuig up of their children in the fear of God. The industry with which young Edwards entered upon and prosecuted his studies at Yale College, shows that his home education had been of a judiciou.H and solid kind. Nothing could exceed the sirdoi'-r with which he engaged in the vrjious branches of learning to which his attention was directed. But whilst he made progress in all these, the strong beist of his mind towards abstract and metaphysical pursuits soon discovered itself. It lias often been remarked, that where there is a strong bias of mind to any par- ticular pursuit, it will not be long tiU it manifest itself. The history of many eminent men, in the earlier parts of it, illustrates this and is the record of their struggles, in which they have overcome obstacle after obstacle lying between them and the object of their early and unquenchable aspirations. Many liave been surrounded with innumerable difficulties, and overcome tliem. It was otherwise ^vith Edwards. Tlie circumstances in which he was placed, from liia earliest years, were favourable to the nourishment and growth of the most marked peculiarities of Ids mind. His father's house was the resort of several eminent ministers, where, in their conversations, they gave their views on the most vital and interesting points in theology. At the age of fifteen, he is study- ing " Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding "" vnth most exact care, and digesting it with a vigorous stomach. It is a rich mine for liim. lie has more intense pleasure in it than the miser in his money- bags. Haraig gone through the course of study prescribed at Yale College, he was Uccnsed to preach the Go.spel in tlie year 17'-2, He in the same year acccjited of im in\-itation to New York, where he laboured, ivith much acceptance, for eight months. Some account should be given of his state of mind regarding spiritual concerns up till this period in liis history. He was brought, at a very early period, 64 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY, under strong religious convictions, wiiich, iu the end, resulted in his conversion to godliness. His own ac- count of the progress of divine grace iu his mind is the best source from which to draw. " I had a variety," says he, " of concerns and exer- cises about my soul from my childhood; but I had two more remarkable seasons of awakening before I met with that change by which I was brought to those new dispositions and that new sense of things that I have since had. The first time was when I was a boy, some years before I went to college, at a time of rem;u-kable awakening in my father's congregation. I was then very much affected for many months, and concerned about the things of religion and my soul's salvation, and was abundant in religious duties. I used to pray five times a^day iu secret, and to spend much time in religious conversations vnth. other boys, and used to meet with them to pray together. I ex- perienced I know not what kind of delight in religion. My affections seemed to be lively and easily moved, and I seemed to be iu my element v/hen engaged in reUgious duties. And I am ready to think, many are deceived with such affections and such kind of delight as I then had in religion, and mistake it for grace." Fm-ther on in the same record from which the above is extracted, we find the following observa- tions : — " From my cliildhood up, my mind had been full of objections against the doctrine of God's sove- reigTity in choosing whom he would to eternal life, and rejecting whom he pleased — leaving them eter- nally to perish, and be everlastingly tormented in hell. It used to appear a horrible doctrine to me. But I remember the time very well when I seemed to be convinced and fully satisfied as to tlus sove- reignty of God, and his justice in thus eternally dis- posing of men according to his sovereign pleasure. But I never could give an account how or by what means I was thus convinced ; not in the least imagining at the time, nor for a long time after, that there was any extraordinary influence of God's Spirit in it. However, my mind rested in it ; and it put an end to all these cavils and objections. And there was a wonderful alteration in my mind, with respect to the doctrine of God's sovereignty from that day to this. Absolute sovereignty is what I love to ascribe to God; but my first conviction was not 80. After this my sense of divine things gradually increased, and became more and more Uvely ; and had more of inward sweetness. The appearance of every- thing was altered: there seemed to be a calm, sweet cast or appearance of divine glory in almost every- thing. God's excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in evei-ything : in the sun, moon, and stars — in the clouds and blue sky — in the grass, flowers, trees — in the water, and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for a long time ; and in the day spent much time in vieiving the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things; in the meantime singing forth, in a low voice, my con- templations of the Creator and Redeemer. And scarcely anything, among all the works of nature, was so svi^eet to me as thunder and lightning ; for- merly nothing had been so terrible to me. Prayer seemed to be natural to me, as the breath by which the inward burnings of my heart had vent. The de- lights which I now felt in the things of religion were of an exceeding different kind from those before- mentioned that I had when a boy, and what then I had no more notion of than one born blind h;\s of pleasant and beautiful colours. They were of a more inward, pure, soul-animating, and refreshing nature. Those former delights never reached the heart ; and did not arise from any sight of the divine excellency of the things of God, or any taste of the soul-satis- fying and life-giving good there is m them." The eight months during wliich he remained at Nev/ York, was a precious season to his soul. He ejijoyed almost unmterrupted peace of mind, and much intimate and sweet commutiion with God. He pursued at great length, and with abimdant profit to his ovm soul, his favourite meditations on the excel- lence of the divine character. It was his habit to retire for hours into solitary places, and give himself up to such contemplations, carrying them often to great heights and depths, till his soul was humbled, and, at the sametime, filled with holy joy. In the years 1722 and 1723 (the nineteenth and twentieth of his age), he drew out the seventy reso- lutions regarding his designs and intentions as to self-government, so far as God should give him grace to perform them; which are well known to all who have read his biography. Some of these resolutions are in many points of view remarkable, more espe- cially as being formed and expressed by one so young. They manifest a great reach of thought, a deep in- sight into revealed truth, mature growth in grace, an entire dedication of himself to God, and an ardent desu-e after an increase in hoHness. They show how clearly he perceived that conformity to God's will is the highest state of the creature, and how earnestly he longed after being made more and more conform- able to it. Of these seventy resolutions, only one or two shall be quoted at present : — " Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God's help, I do humbly entreat him, by his grace, to enable me to keep these resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to liis will, for Christ's sake. — Resolved, tliat I will do whatsoever I think to be most to the glory of God and my own good, profit, and pleasure, in the whole of my duration ; without any consideration of the time, whether now or ever so many myriads of ages hence. Resolved, to do vrhatever I think my duty, and most for the good and advantage of man- kind in general. Resolved so to do, whatever diffi- culties I meet with, how many soever and how great soever. Resolved, never to do any manner of thing, whether in soul or body, less or more, but what tends to the glory of God; nor be, nor sufi'er it, if I can possibly avoid it. Resolved, never to lose one mo- ment of time, but to improve it in the most profitable way I possibly can. I frequently hear people in old age say how they would Uve if they were to live their lives over again. Resolved, that I will hve just so as I can tliink I shall wish I had done, supposing I live to old age." 3r- In 1727, Edwards received a call to Northampton, in which place he faithfully laboured in the Gospel during the period of twenty-four years. For the de- tails of his life and labours at Northampton, reference POPISH FANATICISM— ITS CRUELTY. 66 must Ije made to more copious biograjihies. Only one or two particulars can be mentionetl here. lie applied himself with great assiduity to his Btudics, engaging in them twelve or thirteen hours daily. Being of a weakly habit of body, such intense appli- cation was prevented from making fatal inroads upon his constitution only by the strictest attention to method in exercise, diet, &c. It has passed into a maxim, that nothing of worth can be accomphshed without labour. The experience of every one conlii-ms Scripture in this particular. His labours were greatly acknowledged and blessed by God, to the awakening and conversion of many in Northampton. Symptoms of a rc-v-iviil of religion for sometime manifested themselves, and in 1737 a great revival took place. It extended over the whole town. Every class of citizens was afl'ected. Men talked of nothing but their spiritual concerns. The salvation of their souls became, in their estimation, the " one thing needful." The Gospel triumphed. The work of grace went for- ward with prosperity. JIany were brought to the saving knowledge of the truth. It has been recorded, " that upwards of fifty persons above forty years of age — ten above ninety — neai'ly thirty between ten and fourteen, and one of four, became, in the view of Mr Edwards, the subjects of the renewing grace of God. More than three hundred persons appeared to become Christians in half a^year; about as many of them males as females." The Lord's arm is not shortened that it cannot save. For the details of this outpouring of the Holy Spirit, which are full of interest, reference must be had to Edwards' own account of it. Nor can we enter on the statement of the circum- stances which led to his retirement from Northamp- ton in 1 750 ; which was to him a very painful and severe trial — a dispensation of divine Providence very afflictive, but to which he resigned himself with truly Christian meekness. At Stockbridge, where he re- sided BLK years after his departure from Northampton, he engaged in his studies with his usual diligence and untiring delight, till he was chosen President of New-Jersey College. He had scarcely entered upon the duties of this new office, when he was carried off by death. He died on the 2-2d of March 1758, in the fifty-lifth year of his age — full of peace and humble resignation to the will of God, resting with assured confidence upon Christ his Saviour. Our space forbids us from saying anything of his works. Nor is it needful. Their excellence is well known. He is the most acute of metaphysicians; one of the most cogent of reasoners; and, at the samctime, one of the most thoroughly practical of all divines. POPISH FANATICISM— ITS CRUELTY. A STORY OF THE REFOrvMATION. Juan Diaz, a native of Cuenca, after he had studied for several years at Paris, was converted t^t'ie Pro- testant reUgion by the private instructious^f Jaymc KuEinas. Being liberally educated, he lujd, pre- viously to that event, conceived a disgust at the scholastic theology, and made himself master of the Hebrew language, that he might study the Biule in the original. With the view of enjoying the free- dom of professing the faith which he had embraced, he left Paris in company ii\-ith Matthew Bude and John Crespin, and went to (jeneva, where he resided for some time in the house of his countryman, Pedro Gales. Having removed to Strasburg in the begin- ning of the year 154(). his talents and suavity of man- ners recommended him so strongly to the celebrated Bucer, that he prevailed on the Senate to join the Spanish stranger with himself in a deputation which they were about to send to a conference on the dis- puted points of religion, to be held at Ratisbon. On going thither, Diaz met with his countryman, Pedro Alalvenda, whom he had known at Paris, and was now to confront as an antagonist at the conference. To the pride and religious prejudices of his country- men, Malvenda added the rudeness of a doctor of the Sorbonne and the insolence of a minion of the coiirt. When informed by Diaz of the change which had taken place in his sentiments, he expressed the ut- most surprise and horror, saying, that the heretics would boast more of making a convert of a single Spaniard than of ten thousand Germans. Having laboured in vain, at different interviews, to reclaim him to the Cathohc faith, he laid the matter before the emperor's confessor. It is not kno'«-n what con- sultations they had; but a Spaniard named ]\Iar- quiua, who had transactions ivith them, repaired soon after to Rome, and communicated the facts to a brother of Diaz, Dr Alfonso, who had long held the ofiice of advocate in the Sacred Rota. The pride and bigotry of Alfonso were inflamed to the highest degree by the intelligence of his brother's defection; and taking along with him a suspicious attendant, he set out instantly for Germany, determined, in one way or other, to wipe off' the infamy which had fallen on the hitherto spotless honour of his family. In the meantime, alarmed at some expressions of Malvenda, and knowing the inveteracy with which the Spaniards hated such of their countrymen as had become Pro- testants, Bucer and the other friends of Juan Diaz had prevailed upon him to retire for a season to Neu- burg, a small town in Bavaria situated on the Danube. On arriving at Ratisbon, Alfonso succeeded in dis- covering the place of his brother's retreat, and after consulting -nith Malvenda, repaired to Neuburg. By every art of persuasion, he sought during several days to bring back his brother to the Church of Rome. Disappointed in this, he altered his method — professed that the arguments which he had heard had shaken his confidence, and listened witli apparent eagerness and satisfaction to his brother while he explained to him the Protestant doctrines, and the passages of Scripture on which they rested. Finding Juan delighted with this unexpected change, he pro- posed that he should accompany him to Italy, where there was a greater field of usefulness in dissemina/- ting the doctrines of the Gospel than in Germany, which was already provided -with an abundance of labourers. The guileless Juan promised to think seriously on this proposal, which he submitted to the judgment of his Protestant friends.' They were una- nimously of opinion that he should reject it; and in particular Ochino, who had lately ficd iVom Italy, and was then at Augsburg, pointed out the danger and hopeless nature of the project. Alfonso did not yet desist. He insisted tiiat his brother should accom- pany him at least as far as Augsburg, promising to acquiesce in the decision which Ochino should pro- nounce, after they had conversed with him on the subject. His request appeared so reasonable that Juan agreed to it; but he was prevented from going by the arrival of Bucer and two otlser friends, who, having finisl'.ed their business at Ratisbon, and fear- ing that Juan Diaz m.ight be induced to act contrary to their late advice, had agreed to pay him a visit. Concealing the chagrin wliich he felt at this unex- 66 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. pected obstacle, Alfonso took an affectionate leave of liis brother, after lie had, in a private interview, forced a sum of money upon him, expressed warm gratitvide for the spu-itual benefit he had received from his conversation, and warned him to be on his guard against Malvenda. He proceeded to Augsburg, on the road to Italy ; but next day, after using various precautious to conceal his route, he returned, along ■with the man whom he had brought from Rome, and spent the night in a village at a small distance from Neuburg. Early next morning, behig the 'J7th of March 1540', they came to the house where his brother lodged. Alfonso stood at the gate, while his attendant, knocking at the door and announcing that he was the bearer of a letter to Juan Diaz from his brother, was shown up stairs to an apartment. On hearing of a letter from his brother, Juan sprang from his bed, hastened to the apiu'tment in an un- dress, took the letter from the hand of the bearer, and as it was still dark, went to the window to read it, when the ruffian, stepping softly behind him, de- spatched his unsuspecting victmi with one stroke of an axe which he had concealed under his cloak. He then joined the more guilty mm'derer, who now stood at the stair-foot to prevent interruption, and ready, if necessary, to give assistance to the assassin whom he had hired to execute his purpose. Alarmed by the noise which the assassin's spurs made on the steps as he descended, the person who slept mth Juan Diaz rose hastily, and going into the adjoining apartment beheld, ivith unutterable feelings, his friend stretched on the floor and weltering in his blood, mth his hands clasped, and the instrument of death fixed in his head. The murderers were fled, and had provided a relay of horses to convey them quickly out of f-Jermany ; but the pursuit after them, which commenced as soon as the alarm could be given, was so hot that they were overtaken at Ins- pruck, and secured in prison. Otho Henry, Count Palatine of the Rhine and Duke of Bavaria, within whose territories the crime was perpetrated, lost no time in taking the necessary measures for having it judicially tried. Lawyers were sent from Neuburg with the night-cap of the deceased, the bloody axe, the letter of Alfonso, and other documents; but though the prisoners were arraigned before the crimi- nal court at luspruck, tiie trial was suspended, through the influence of the cardinals of Trent and Augsburg, to whom the fratricide obtained liberty to write at the beginning of his imprisonment. When his plea for the benefit of clergy was set aside as contrary to the laws of Germany, various legal quirks were re- sorted to ; and at last the judges produced an order from the emperor, prohibiting them from proceeding with the trial, and reserving the cause for the judg- ment of his brother Ferdinand, king of the Romans. When the Protestant princes, at the subsequent diet of Ratisbon, demanded, first of the emperor and afterwards of his brother, that the murderers should be punished, their requests were evaded ; and, in the issue, the murderers were allowed to escape untried and with impunity, to the outraging of humanity and justice, and the disgrace of the Church of Rome, whose authorities were bound to see that the most rigorous scrutiny was made into the horrid deed, un- der the pain of being held responsible for it to Heaven and to posterity. The liberated fratricide appeared openly at Trent, along -with his bloody accomplice, without exciting a shudder in the brsasts of the holy fathers met in council; he was v/elcomed back to Rome; and finally retmmed to his native country, where he was admitted to the society of men of rank and education, who listened to him wlnle he coolly related the circumstances of his sanctified crime. Diiferent persons published accounts, agreeing in every material point, of a murder which, all circum- stances considered, has scarcely a parallel in the annals of blood since the time of the first fratricide, and affords a striking proof of the degree in which fana- tical zeal viill stifle the tenderest affections of the human breast, and stimulate to the perpetration of crimes the most atrocious and unnatural. — From M^Grie's History of the Reformation in Spain. PRAYER. There is an eye that never sleeps, Beneath the wing of night ; There is an ear that never shuts, When smk the beams of light. There is an arm that never tires, When human strength gives way; There is a love that never fails, When earthly loves decay. That eye is fixed on seraph throngs ; That ear is filled with angels' songs; That arm upholds the world on high That love is thrown beyond the sky. But there's a power that man can wield When mortal aid is vain ; — That eye, that arm, that love to reach, That hstening ear to gain. That power is prayer, which soars on liigh, And feeds on bliss beyond the sky ! MANNA GATHERED FROM THE GROUND. BY THE REV. WILLIAM ARNOT, GLASGOW. BOOTS OF BITTERNESS. " Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled." — Heb. xii. 15. Sin, whether in men or among them — whether viewed as inherent in the individual, or spread through the community — sin may well be compared to a root. This analogy does much to i^oint out the nature, and the oriijin, and the consequences, and the ciire, of that one evil which offends God and afflicts men. The analogy of a root serves to illustrate the nature of the evil. Forewarned, forearmed. An ac- curate knowledge of the danger goes far to constitute a defence. The figure directs our thoughts at once to the heart as the seat of the affections. " Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts," and words, and actions. It is not enough that v/e mark the charac- ter of the actions. The deeds that appear to others are the fruits ; but any one, or any number of these, would be comparatively a small matter. It is the root that secures continuity, and imparts power. It is not any fruit, however evU, that is so much to be dreaded, but the hidden, living, spreading root be- low, that secures a continued supply. Our care must not be exclusively directed to the deeds — the fruit above ground — we must seek to reach that hidden root which grows in the soul unseen, generating ac- tual transgression in the life of men. There are many points in which the analogy holds MANNA GATHERED FROM THE GROUND. 67 good between a root and the sinful disposition of soul which gives birth to unrighteous action. 1. The root is below ground — unseen. The surface of the field, when you pass by, may be naked, and clean, and smooth — not a green blade to be seen, far less an opening flower, or ripening fruit; yet there may be in that field a multitude of thriving, vigorous roots, that will soon cover and possess its surface with thorns and thistles. So in a church, or a family, or a single member of it : though for the time all that meets the eye be fair, there may be in the soul within a germ of evil already sv.clling, and ready to burst out iuto open wickedness. Reader, remember the danger lies in a heart deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. " What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch ! " 2. The root not only w, Imt grows. It has a vital self-increasing jirinciple. By its owni inherent energy it extends itself. It never remains stationai-y. While it lives it grows. There is no way of preventing it from growing larger, but by taking away its life. Unless you kill it, you cannot keep it doivn. So with the sinful disposition in the heart. It is not the existence of the thing merely that we have to dread, but its \-itality. It is a thing of life. The Scripture (Eph. ii. 2, 3) speaks of men being dead in sins, and yet tcalkiiig according to the course of this world. In like manner, though the guilty state of the soul be called death, yet it is a death that lives and grows. It not only bears fruit upward, but strikes root downward; and the more vigorously it shoots its fibres down into the soil, the heavier a harvest of wickedness it bears. It is not enough to say, that after one sinful deed is over, there is a root below which will produce another. There is a growing root below, which will produce a worse. Begin in time. All experience echos the Scripture injunction: "Train up a, child in the way that he should go." There is a peculiar wisdom in the resolution, " Lord, thee my God, I'll early seek." Most of the roots that are killed, are killed when young, and comparatively tender. AVhat is it that makes young sinners so fond of j^utting off their re- pentance ? Why are you not willing to repent now t Is it not just because you find your sinful desires too strong to be thwarted ? Ah ! fools,'and slow of heart to believe all that the Scripture — all that experience hath said ! Will these desires be weaker after you have given them another year to grow ? Now is the time to crucify the flesh. 3. Though you may be able to destroy the fruit, and cut do^vn tlie branches, tiie root may be l>eyoud your reach. Though the branches be lopped off, and the sten\ cut down close by the ground, yet the root left in the soil will keep its hold, and send up another stem, and spread out other branches. It is an easy thing for the husband- man to destroy all of a noxious plant that meets his eye, while it may be beyond his power to reach and remove the root. So with this sin. Much may be done to check its outward exhibition. Many agencies may be brought to bear upon it, which will not only prevent the ripening of the fruit, but will ))light the opening blossom, and maim the spreading branches. Many schemes may be tried, and tried successfully, to stop the coM-iiillUng of sins, while the dixposilion. to sin lives as vigorous, and grows as rank as ever in the soul. A parent, by a frown, may prevent his child from beati.ig a companion; but he has not thereby torn up the root of malice that grows in that child's breast. In a Christian land, and in a civilized society, there are appliances of sufficient power to prevent you from doing some of the more characteris- tic deeds of the old man ; but these appliances have no power to make you i^iit off the old raan vnih. his deeds. Oh ! ivTctched man that I am, zcho shall de- liver me ? Help, Lord ; for vain is the help of man ! Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within nie I In the text prefixed to this chapter, the root is significantly called a root of hitter ness. The analogy of a root suggests the existence, and the life, and the growth, and the power of a principle, without deter- mming whether it be good or bad ; Ijut the distin- guishuig characteristic of the root spoken of is " bit- terness." Everything depends on the nature of the root that is bedded in the soil. Earth, and air, and sun, and rain, nourish every plant that grows upon the surface of the globe. Trees that bear nutritious food, and trees that bear deadly poison, grow toge- ther on the same ground. There is a plant called the Nightshade, which is in some respects like a vine. Like the vine, its branches are slender, and unless supported, they trail upon the ground. Its bunches of fruit, too, are very similar, both in form and co- lour, to clusters of grapes. Its fruit is a poison. From its nature, it gets the name of the Deadly Night- shade. Now, this plant may grow beside a vine — may cling to the branches of a vine, and intermingle its clusters of fruit, so that you could scarcely distin- guish the one from the other. Nay, more ; in such a case, the roots of the two plants will shoot down into the same soil — they Vv'ill cross and intertwine ■with each other in the earth — they mil drink up the same sap at the same place. It would require a very close examination to distinguish the fibres that belong to each; yet this root converts the sap into delicious food — that into deadly poison. The result does not depend on air and sun, and moisture and earth — these were all the same in this case. The fruit takes its character from the root. If it be a I'oot of bitterness, it turns everything into poison. Such is the distinguishmg characteristic of a sinful affection. Our living souls are the seat of many thoughts and emotions — they constitute the soil which nourishes many roots. Home roots grow there bearing sweet fruit to the glory of God and the good of men; but they are " the jilanting of the Lord." It is the root of bitterness that springs first, and spreads farthest. There are the shattered renmants of nmch good in the human soul. There are in it many raaterials which may be turned to good ac- count, when a new heart h:v3 been given — a new spirit created. But in all at first, and in many still, a strong one has possession. A bitter root occupies and sucks the soil, wasting its strength in bringing forth death. Pride, envy, worldliness, ungodliness — these, and other roots, i)ervade the ground, and drain off all its fatness. The natural powers and emotions of the soul — the sap which these roots feed upon — would nourish trees of righteousness, if they were but planted there. There arc many precious 68 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. qualities of mind, efficient for good or for evil, just as they are employed. You have known a man pos- sessed of many good quahties — such qualities as attract and bind to their possessor a wide circle of friends. H^ is, in the common sense of the term, a good-hearted man. He is generous, and kind, and honest. He will not maliciously resent an injury — he gives liberally of his goods to feed the poor — he ren- ders to every man his due ; but he is a drunkard. A bitter root has fastened in that generous boO, and di-inks up all its riches. Oh ! it is sad to see that strong one keeping possession of a wealthy place. It is sad to see so promising a field exhausted in bearing the filthiest fruit. Avarice is another root of equal bitterness. When it has fairly got posses- sion of the ground, and mamtained its place long, and reached maturity of growth, how it wrings the man, and squeezes out the last dregs of each gene- rous emotion, leaving his soul a dry, useless, sapless, pithless thing, like a bit of rotten wood ! There is no more pitiable creature on earth than a man whose heart's warm affections have been sucked out by the lust of gold. The power of understanding and judging — of liking and disliking — of hoping and fearing — all these, as natural capabilities of the himiau soul, are melded by the presiding wiU either on the side of righteousness, or the side of sin. The same learning and ardour which Saul of Tarsus em- ployed to waste the Church, Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, plied as the instruments of extending and establishing it. Paul had met the Lord in the way, and received into his heart the seed of a new life. This is the one needful thing. These understandings and memories, and all these natural powers that are now wasted on sin — the same instruments will do for serving God, when the quickening Spirit has im- planted the new life within. " With you do I make this covenant, lest there should be among you man, or woman, or family, or tribe, whose heart tum- eth away from the Lord our God, lest there should be among you a root that beareth gall and wormwood." — Deut. xxix. 14-18. The root that beareth gall and wormwood, is a heart that turneth away from God ; and to that sprmg of evil must the cure be applied. Although it be " a root out of a di-y ground," all will be well, if it be not a " root of bitterness." If the root be holy, so also vriU the branches be. EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLER S NOTE-BOOK, EV THE REV. W. K. TWEEDIE, EDINBURGH. THE GREAT ST BERNARD. With two guides, and the best equipments we could find for Buch an expedition, we started at an early hour to ascend the Great St Bernard, travellmg by the route over which Napoleon conducted the French arm.y previous to the battle of Marengo. But his devastations, tremendous as thej'- were, are not the only judgments which have visited this province. Our path lay for some time up the Valley of Bagnes, watered by the Drance. For five years previous to 1818, the debris viduch descended from the mountain and glacier of Getroz, at the head of that valley, had r;dsed a bridge or dyke across the course of the river, whose v/aters, thus dammed up, gradually formed a lake behind the barrier, the length of which was at last about twelve th.ousand feet, while at so)iie places it was seven hundred feet deep. Terrified by this accumulated mass, and anticipating the hour when it would sweep away the barrier, and devastate the val- ley, the inhabitants made an outlet for the water, and thereby lowered the lake to the extent of fifteen yards in depth, diminishing the whole volume of water by about two hundred and thirty mUhons of cubic feet. But in spite of every effort or expedient, the pressing mass at last forced away the biU'rier, and rushed down the valley with resistless fury. In one hoiu-, tlie torrent had reached Martigny, eighteen miles distant from the gorge of the lake. Fifty houses were swept away at the hamlet of Hampsee — a forest was completely rooted up along the course of the Drance — the valley was in a few hours turned into a desert; and the whole damage was estimated, according to official returns made to the Swiss Cantons by the Pays de Vauds, at 1,6G4,640 francs. Even amid the grandeur of this morning's journey, we could not help feeling the truth and the beauty of what Corinne (Madame de Stael) has recorded re;;arding wayfarers like us. To traverse a country which you do not know, to hear a language which you can scarcely understand, and look on human countenances which have no connection with your past or your future, is solitude without repose, and insulation without dignity. That haste to arrive where no one expects you — that ceaseless agitation of which curiosity is the only source, adds nothing to your self-respect; it is only by perpetuating the agitation that you render it supportable. We per- petuated it, however, throughout this weary day. The ascent occupied upwards often hours ; and, though scarcely more than one of these was spent ■\\dthin the region of snow, it was enough to convince us of the misery of those whom a tempest overtakes in those wild regions. About half a league from the convent, we passed a hut called the Hospital, where wine and bread are deposited by the monks for the relief of those who are too much exhausted to reach the sum- mit without help. AU around was intensely wintry j and this " frosty Caucasus " contrasted strongly with the summer we had left a few hours before in the Valley of the Ehone. The ascent, though very toil- soine, is at no place very steep, till we approach the Convent ; and the ever- varying vistas up the valleys, terminated by mountains of unsullied whiteness, ex- hilarate for a time, and carry one so buoyantly for- ward, as in some measure to accoimt for the lassitude and tendency to sleep which crept over us as we drew near to the summit. At one place, we leant for a little against a mass of snow, to gather strength for what remained of the climb where it grew steepest, and it was with difficulty that we could keep ourselves, for the few moments, awake. But the remembrance of Sir Joseph Banks, and the fate of some of his fel- low-travellers in Patagonia, stirred us on — one other struggle of less than half-an-hour, and the summit was gained. EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLER'S NOTE-BOOK. 69 There are moments in one's life whcse remem- brance never can be effaced. It may be that some very simple incident is connected with them; but however simple, they cannot be forgotten; and one of these was the moment when we knocked at the Con- vent gate of the Great St Bernard. By the time we reached it, our party, was numerous; for group after group had joined us, or we them — and our characters were not all above suspicion. Among the rest at the Convent there was a truculent bandit, Avlio had been guilty of murder — whose sin had found him out, and who was then being conducted by gens-d'armes to the scene of his crime, where he was to meet his doom. But men are the same in every locality — •" enmity against God;" and what marvel if enmity to man :■• M'e could not speak the brigand's language, and could convey no hint as to the Friend of sinners. The Convent is a plain unornamented structure, and occupies a spot as dreary as any that man could select for his dwelling-place. The rocks on either side leave scarcely room for the foundations ; and the overhanging peak of Mount Velan, the loftiest of the St Bernard range, covered with, ice and glaciers, con- summates the wild gloominess of the scene. A little lake of dark, deep water, at a short distance from the Convent, and not frozen at the time, gave addi- tional stillness to the aspect of the desolate abode; and the Avhole is such — so peculiar and unique — as to impress itself ..at once and indelibly on the mind. Looking abroad, you see only Alp towering above Alp in grandeur wliich no hyperbole can overstate, while inmiediately around you, all that is sterile and wintry reigns, unvaried by a single speck of green. It is, however, in the interior of the Convent that we find the strongest attractions after sun-down on the mountain. The fatigue of the ascent had pre- pared us to be pleased even with an unkind recep- tion ; but the courteous attentions of the padre for- restiero — the stranger's father — needed not that to recommend tliem. The Convent supper was past ere we arrived; but refreshments were speedily i)re- pared for us. It was a meagre day, and our fair was regulated accordingly; that is, everything was purely vegetable, but the omelette and cheese, though the variety in some degree compensated for the meagre- ness. We were surprised, at supper, to find the father so intelligent regarding the state of matters in our native land. The Emancipation Act, the efiects of the Reform Bill, and, above all, the condition of convulsed, unhappy Ireland, were objects of interest, and even of familiarity to him.^* He knew its history and its towns, especially ui the south and west, better than we did. After a shivering night, we breakfasted at seven, and were then shown over the Convent by the father on duty; for it is taken in rotation. The refectory, to our surprise, contained a print of Theodore Bcza, and some antiquities found hi "the Plain of Jupiter" — a level rock not far from the Convent, where a tem- ple to that divhiity once stood. The library contained a tolerable collection of books, some objects of na- * This was not a solitary instance. We know from ob- servation, tliat for many years past, Komanists have looked to Ireland as llicir key to Britain; and recent events are ihowing the far-sightedness of their policy. tural history, and a telescope — the miused gift of General JIacauley. From the library we passed to the chapel, which contains the tomb of DcL^saix, one of Bonaparte's generals, who fell at ilarengo. The inscription is sunple : " A Dessaix, mort a la bat- taile de Marengo." His body is here, his heart is in another tomb which we saw in Alsace, liis Uiitive country — -where will the unmortal spirit be, when the secrets of all hearts are made bare ? More impressive far than the imunmery of the Roman ritual — its matins, its vespers, or its perpetual sa- crifice, the mass, as opposed to the one sacrifice (see Heb. X. 12, compared with 14), is the spectacle of such a termination to such a career. For fame or glory Dessaix and myriads fought and died — they got it ; and what is it, especially what is it now, to them ? At a short distance Irom the Convent stands the Maisoii des Moris, where the dead found on the moun- tain are deposited. They are placed erect against the wall, till .their friends identify and claim them, or till the corpses fall into decay, here rendered tardy by the coldness of the region. We have beheld few sights more humbling to proud humanity than this charnel-house. The ghastly skeletons, ranged in liideous order along the wall — some comparatively fresh, and others crumbling to fragments— some vrdh the struggles of their sno^vvy death-bed stiU depicted on their visage, others black, as if malignant typhus had been their death — carry one back at once to the era of tlie primal curse, and remind us, in a way that cannot be soon forgotten, of the disorganization and death introduced by sin. And yet, there is a resur- rection ! Them that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him, even from this disgusting dead-house. The dogs of St Bernard are known through the •(vorlJ; but the celebrity which they enjoy is not en- hanced by a close inspection of their character. The marvels which are told of them are often fabulous or romantic. That they do aid in the discovery of tra- vellers overtaken by storms is certam ; but not to the extent which many say. They never leave the Con- vent without an attendant monk, who threacs his way along the roads to the Convent, during the pre- valence of a tempest, wliile the dogs range from side to side, just as other dogs seek game ; and, in fact, then- instinct, or education, teaches them to find men, just as the instinct of other animals teaches them to find inferior quarry. Nay, we were told by the father who escorted us, that the dogs of St Ber- nard have been kno^vn to prey on the dying whom they had discovered. It is the monk, the good Samaritan of the mountain, that saves the wayfarer — the dog only scents him out, when exhausted, and ready to perish. It is a pity to dash so much romance as adheres to these fabled dogs ; but our authority was the stranger's father. Our entertainment was, of course, gratuitous at the convent; but we took care to deposit in the alms' box, an equivalent for the hospitahty enjoyed. The funds of the Convent have been augmented by various Sovereigns; but a yearly collection is made in Savoy and the Vallois to recruit its hisufiicicnt treasury. It were needless to rehearse the details of Bona- parte's passage of this mountain ; but the toils of the 70 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. achievement appeared to us, on the spot, to be ex- \ aggerated. The nvmhers were surprising, but not j the mere act of passing; for the difficulties were ! such as could be surmounted by industry and per- ! severance. Had it been at the season of sncv,', the attempt had been vain; but commencmg, as it did, on the 15th of May (UiOO) the wonder is diminished. In seven days, thirty thousand men, with twenty pieces of cannon, passed the mountain. At various periods, from the time of Augustus, similar efforts were made at the bidding of ambition or revenge; and during the revolutionary wars, it is calculated that, in four years, one hundred and fifty thousand men traversed the mountain. When Napoleon passed, his army pai-took of refreshments dealt out to every soldier of the thirty thousand, at the Con- vent gate ! The origin of this Institution is variously described. Some state that Charlemagne was its founder, who bestowed on it the name of liis imcle, St Bernard — thus superseding the ancient title, Mons Jovis. At present there are thirty monks of the Augustinian order attached to it — fifteen of whom were resident when we passed. The prior resides at Martigny. In looking back on our brief sojourn on the Great St Bernard, and the unv/onted scenes we witnessed, one would be glad could he cherish the hope that it is Christian principle, the only principle that will be recognised by the Judge, that has induced those tliiity men to abandon fne milrfer cnmate of their bii'th, to dwell in the most elevated abode in Europe, and undertake a perilous task, which must spread over four or five months of every year, in a region where vegetation is just not extinct, and few days of sunshine are enjoyed. We know how much more readily man will make sacrifices at the bidding of self-righteousness, than in compliance with the hum- bling doctrines of the Gospel. Give me the prospect of purchasing heaven, or of establishing a claim to its blessedness in my own right, and there is no sacrifice which I will not make. I will rival the Hindu in self- inflicted torture, or Simon Stylites himself in austerity and penance. But bid me lelieve for heaven, and not work for it; bid'me receive and rest upon Jesus Christ alone for salvation, instead of upon self, or self and Christ united — and you thereby paralyze my ejforts : unless the Spu-it of God carry home yom- message to my heart, it will be rejected as foolish- ness or falsehood. Now, on which of these two sets of motives do the monks of St Bernard act ? The self-righteous, or the believing ? — the human, or the Christian ? They stand or fall to their own Master. The day that reveals all secrets wUl decide. Immediately after leaving the Convent, we entered the Sardmian territory, and began the descent of the mountain. The side next Italy is yet more magnifi- cent than that toward the north ; but, with ordinary care, the traveller encoimters nothing on the descent that can be dignified with the name of adventure. Hitherto, our guides had enjoyed a tolerable sine- cure, as they continued to do till we commenced the ascent of Mont Blanc. At St Remy, on the southern slope of the St Bernard, and the frontier to'n'n of Savoy, we were strictly searched, mainly, we were told, lest we should import tobacco or books ; of the former we had none — of the latter few, and these were reckoned harmless, because they were English. After a few hours'' rapid descent, we found ourselves in the Valley of Aoste, where, for the present, we must rest, and reserve v.hat remains regarding the Passes of the Alps, for some future Extracts. WEEP NOT FOR ME. When the spark of life is waning, Weep not for me ; When the languid eye is straining, Weep not for me : When the feeble pulse is ceasing, Start not at its swift decreasing; 'Tis the fettered soul's releasing; Weep not for me. When the pangs of death assaU me. Weep not for me ; Christ is mine — he cannot fail me ; Weep not for me ; Yes, though sin and doubt endeavour From his love my soul to sever, Jesus is my strength for ever — Weep not for me. Dale. "THE REV. MR BERRIDGE. RELATED BY HIMSELF. Soon after I began to preach the Gospel of Christ at Everton, the church was filled from the villages around us, and the neighbouring clergy felt them- selves hurt at their churches being deserted. The squite of my own parish, too, was much offended. He did not like to see so many strangers, and be bo incommoded. Between them both it was resolved, if possible, to turn me out of my living. For this pui-pose they complained of me to the bishop of the diocese, that I had preached out of my own parish. I was soon after sent for by the bishop ; I (fid not much like my errand, but I went. When I arrived, the bishop accosted me in a very abrupt manner : — " Well, Berridge, they tell me you go about preach- ing out of your own parish. Did I institute you to the livings of A y, or E n, or P n?" " No, my lord," said I, " neither do I claim any of these livings; the clergj^nien enjoy them imdisturbed by me." " Well, but you go and preach there, which you have no right to do." " It is true, my lord, I was one day at E- n, and there were a few ]^oor people assembled together, and I admonished them to repent of their sins, and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, for the salvation of their souls ; and I remember seemg five or six clergymen that day, my lord, all ovit of their own parishes upon Er- — n bowling-green." "Poh!" said the bishop, "I tell you, you have no right to preach out of your ovm parish; and, if you do not desist from it, you will very likely be sent to Huntingdon jaU." " As to that, my lord," said I, " I have no greater liking to Huntingdon jail than other people; hut I had rather go thither with a good conscience, than live at my liberty without one." Here the bishop looked very hard at m.e, and very gravely assured me, " that I was beside myself, and that in a few months"' tmie I should either be better or worse." " Then," said I, " my lord, you may make yourself quite happy in this business; for if I should be better, you suppose I shall desist from this practice of my own accord ; and if worse, you need not send mc to Huntingdon j;dl, as I shall be provided with an accommodation in Bedlam." MISCELLANEOUS. 71 His lordship now changed his mode of attack. In- stead of threatening, he began to entreat : " Ber- ridge," said he, " you know 1 have been your friend, and I ynsh to be so still; I am constantly teazed with the complaints of the clergymen around you. Only assure me that you will kuep to your own parisJi; you may do as you please there. 1 have but little time to live; do not bring down my grey hau-s with sorrow to the grave." At this instant two gentlemen were announced, who desired to speak with the biahop. " Berridge," said he, "go to your inn, and come again at such an hour, and dine \\-ith me." 1 went, and on entering a private room, fell immediately u])on my knees. I could bear throatoning, but knew not how to withstand entreaty, especially the entreaty of a respectable old man. At the appomted time I re- turned. At dinner, I was treated with great respect. The two gentlemen also dined with us. I found they had been informed who I was, as they sometimes cast their eyes towards me, in some such manner as one would glance at a monster. After dinner, the bishop took me into the garden. " Well, Berridge," said ha, " have you considered of my request ? " " I have, my lord," said I, " and have b«en upon my knees concerning it." " Well, and will you promise me that you will preach no more out of your owa parish ? " " It would afford me great pleasure," said I, " to comply with yom- lordship's request, if I could do it v.itli a good conscience. I am satisfied the Lord has blessed my labours of this kind, and I dare not desist." "A good consci«nce!" said the bishop, " do you not know that it is contrary to tlie canons of the Church ? " " There is one c;mon, my lord," I rephod, '• which saith, ' (to, preach the Gos- jiel to every creature.' " " But why should you v/ish to interfere with the charge of other men ? One man cannot preach the Gospel to all men." " IJ they would preach the Gospel themselve:^," said I, '• there would be no ne«d for my preaching it to their people ; but as they do not, I camaot desist." The bishop then pai'ted with me in some displeasure. I returned home, not knowhig what would befall ma ; but thank- ful to God that 1 had preserved a conscience void of offence. I took no measures for my own preserva- tion, but Divine Providence wrought for me in a wny that I never expected. When I was at Clare Hall, I was particularly acquainted with a fellow of that college; and we were both upon terms of intimacy with Mr Pitt, the late Lord Chatham, who was at that time also at the university. This fellow of Clare Hall, when I began to preach the Gospel, became my enemy, and did mc some injury in some ecclesiastical privileges, which before-time I had enjoyed. At length, however, when he heard that I was likely to come into trouble, and to be turned out of my living at Everton, his heart relented. He began to think, it seems, within himself. We shall ruin this poor fellow ivmong us. This was just about the time that I was sent for by the bishop. Of his own accord he writes a letter to Mr Pitt, saying nothing about my Methodism, but to this effect: " Our old friend Ber- ridge has got a living in Bedfordshire, and, I am in- formed, he has a squire in his parish that gives him a deal of trouble — has accused him to the bishop of the diocese, and, it is said, will tm-u him out of the living. I wsh you could contrive to put a stop to these proceedings." Jlr Pitt was at that time a young man, and not choosing to ai>ply to the bishop mmself, spoke to a certain nobleman, to whom the bishop was indebted for his promotion. This noble- man within a few days made it his business to see the bishop, who was then in London. " My lord," said he, " I am informed you have a very honest fellow, one Berridge, in your diocese, iind that he has been ill-treated by a litigious squii-e who lives in his parish. He has accused hijin, I am told, to jour lordship, and wishes to turn him out of his UvLug. You would oblige me, if you would take no notice of that squire, and not suffer the honest man to be interrupted in his living." The bishop was astonished, and could not imagine in what manner things could have thus got round. It would not do, however, to object; he was obliged to bow compliance, and so I continued ever after uninterrupted in my sphere of action. TRUE SELF-DEVOTEDNESS. The most striking instance of self-devotedness in the cause of Christ of which I ever heard in these days of deadness, I was told of last week by an English minister. It has never been printed, and therefore I will relate it to you just as I heard it, to stir up our cold hearts that we may give ourselves to the Lord. The awful disease of leprosy still exists in Africa. Whether it be the same leprosy as that mentioned in the Bible I do not know, but it is regarded as per- fectly incuralle, and so infectious that no one dares to come near the leper. In the south of Africa there is a lazar-house for lepers. It is an immense space, enclosed by a very high wall, and containing fields which the lepers cultivate. There is only one entrance, which is strictly guarded. Whenever any one is found with the marks of leprosy upon him, he is brought to this gate and obliged to enter in, never to return. No om; who enters in l)y that awful gate is allowed to come out again ! AVithin this abode of misery there are multitudes of lepers in all stages of disease. Dr Halbeck, a missionary of the Church of England, from the top of a neighbouring hUl, saw them at work. He noticed two particularly, sowing peas in the field. The one had no hands, "the other had no feet — these members being wasted av.-ay by the disease. The one who wanted the hands was carry- ing the other who wanted the feet upon his back, and he again carried in his hands the bag of seed, and dropped a pea every now and then, which the other pressed uito the ground with his foot; and so they managed the work of one man between the two. Ah ! how little we know of the misery that is in the world. Such is this prison-house of disease. But you wll ask. Who cai-es for the souls of the hapless inmates ? Who will venture in at this dreadful gate, never to return again ? VY'ho vi\\\ forsake father and mother, houses and lands, to carry the message of a Saviour to these poor lepers? Two Moravian mis- sionaries, impelled by a divine love for souls, have chosen the lazar-house iis their field of labour. They entered it, never to come out again; and I am told that as soon as these die, other Moravians ;vre quiie ready to fill their place. Ah ! my dear frientls, may we not blush and be ashamed before God, that we, redeemed with the same blood, and taught by the same Spirit, should j"et be so unlike these men, in vehement, heart- consuming love to Jesus and the souls of men. — M^Ckejue. f^iotcUanfous. Real independence consists in being altogether do- pendant upon God, and thereby virtually indepen- dent of all else. Anger. — Wise anger is like fire from the flint; there is a great ado to bring it out; and when it does come, it is out again immediately. — MatUiew Uenry. " I would reprove thee," said a wise Heathen, " if I were not angry." And ;uidl not Christians say as much ? 72 DAILY BREAD. Bm\t> SSrcaU. FRIDAY. Rejoice in the Lord ahvay."— Phil. iv. 4. Rejoice, believer, in tlie Lord, Who nialics your cause his own ; The hope that's built upon his Word Can ne'er be overthrown. The true comforter in all distress is only God, through his Son Jesus Christ ; and whosoever hath him, hath company enough, although he were in a wilderness all alone ; and he that hath twenty thou- sand in his company, if God be absent, is in a mise- rable wilderness and desolation. In him is all com- fort, and without him is iione.—Cra7imer. SATURDAY. " Rejoice with trembhng." — Ps. ii. II, Though much exalted in the Lord, My strength is not my own ; Then let nie tremble at his word, And none shall cast me down. There is a fear without diffidence, and a trembling that may consist with joy. Trembling is an eifect of fear; but this fear, which we must aifect, is reveren- tial, not slavish, not distrustful. Indeed, when we look upon ourselves, and consider our own frailties and corruptions, and God's infinite justice, we have too just cause of doubt and dejection, yea, were it not for better helps, of utter despair ; but, when we cast up our eyes to the power of him that hath un- dertaken for us, and the faithfulness of him that hath promised, and the sure mercies of him that hath begun his good work in us, we can fear with confidence, and rejoice in our trembling. For what are our sins to his mercies — our un worthiness to his infinite merits — oiu- weaknesses to his omnipotence ? —Hall. SABBATH. " Call the Sabbath a delight."— Isa. Iviii. 13. Thanks to thy name, O Lord, that we One glorious Sabbath more bcliold ; Our Shepherd, let us meet with thee Among thy sheep, within thy fold. Philip Henry would often say, at the close of his Sabbath devotions — Well : if this be not heaven, it must be the way to it. Yes ; it is then Clhristians often feel themselves, like Jacob in his vision, at the gate. They have earnests and foretastes of the glory to be revealed. Perhaps they are never so willing as then to go. Many of them have wished to be released on this day; and many have been gratified. But if they do not leave on the earthly Sabbath, they enter on the heavenly one. For there remaineth a rest to the jjeople of God. — Jay. MONDAY. " Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." — Rev. iii. 1. To walk as children of the day. To mark the precept's holy light ; To wage tlie warfare, watch, and pray. Show who are pleasing in his sight. Not words alone it cost the Lord, To purchase pardon for liis own ; Nor will a soul by grace restored. Return the Saviour words alone. An empty name of religion is but a poor and piti- ful business. What though men and women have the largest testimonial drawn up, in the most ample form, and subscribed by the hands of all the most eminent, godly, and discerning ministers, and private Christians of the city or country side v.'herein they live — what will it signify or avaU if Chrisfs hand be not at it, or if he shall subscribe after all their sub- scriptions, a plain contradiction to, and a downright denial of, what they affirm. O ! when shall we once look more seriously and concernedly after real reli- gion and godliness, and be less concerned, and more holily indifl'erent, as to the name ? — Durham. " Call upon me in the day of trouble : I will deliver thee." — Ps. 1. 15. In every trouble, sharp and strong, To God my spirit flies ; My anchor-hold is firm in him, When swelling billows rise. This is the only effectual path out of sorrow. And this is effectual to deliver us from every sorrow — the deepest and the worst. If we catch at worldly things for help, we shall find them but as stravv'S, that mock our grasp. If we cling to men around us, they can hold us up but for a moment ; nay, perhaps drag us with themselves into a deeper sorrow. If we depend upon ourselves, our strength is momently diminishing. But if we turn to God, in penitence, in faith, with all the earnestness of drowning agony, he can, he will, he does, deliver us from the lowest deep. The Lord is a refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. — Griffith. WEDNESDAY. " Adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things." — Titus ii. 10. O Lord, I would be thine alone — ; Come take possession of thine own ; For thou hast set me free. Released from Satan's hard command, See all my powers waiting stand To be employed by thee. Consider for your encouragement, that if you adorn the doctrine of Clirist, it will for ever adorn you ; and as you have made it glorious in the world, it will make you for ever glorious in heaven. This is the reward which it promiseth. It will put a wreath of beams, a diadem of stars, a crown of glory upon your heads. " Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father." — Rojikins. THURSDAY. " A better country, that is, an heavenly." — Heb. xi. !6. Sorrow and p^iin, and every care, >\iul discord there shall cease ; And perfect joy and love sincere. Adorn the realms of peace. The heavenly Canaan, ImmanuePs land, a country better than the best of tliis v.'orld, where nothing is wanting to com^jlete the happiness of the i\\\\i\r bitants — that land enjoys an everlasting day ; " for there is 'ao night there." An eternal sunshine beau- tifies this better country; but there is no scorching heat there. No clouds shall be seen there forever; yet it is not a land of drought. The trees of the Lord's planting are set by the rivers of water, and shall never want moisture ; for they will have an eternal supply of the Spu'it, by Jesus Christ, from his Father. — JJostoii. *:!:* A stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, will in future be published, price 'id. each Number. Edinburgh : Printed by John Johnstone, residing at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. Groombridge fc Sons. Glasgow: J. R. M'Nair & Co.; and to be had of any Bookselle throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 73 THE SPECIAL POWER OF GOD IN CONVERTING SINNERS. BY THE REV. JAMES BEGG, EDINBURGH. It is difficult to understand how any oiio not blindod by in-cjudice can read the divine Word without being convinced that, in every instance of a sinner's conversion, there is a special ma- nifestation of tin; onniipotent power of the Spirit of (lod. The statements made in re- gard to human depravity imply this. Fallen man is declared not only to l)e covered witli sin as with a leprosy, so that from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot there is no spiritual soundness in him; but his understand- ing is said to be darlart deceitful above all tilings, and desperately wicked — his conscience defiled — his will bent towards evil, like an iron sinew. lie is wise to do evil, whilst to do good ho has no understanding. Ho is without strength — in a sleep — dead even whilst he lives ; and as soon may the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots, as lie, being accustomed to do evil, may learn to do well. The mighty change which is declared to take place in conversion, illustrates this still more clearly. TJie nnd(M-standing is then said to be enlightened by liini " who commanded the light to shine out of darkness." A new heart is (i t'> death; for herelics are so much the more pernicious than thieves and murderers, as it is a greater crime to steal and slay the souls of men than their bodies." Again, in the works of Cardinal Bellarmine, who is well known as one of their standai'd and most esteemed authors, the following very plain passage occurs. Speaking of putting heretics to death, ho- states: — " Experience teaches ns that there is no other remedy; for the Church has advanced by degrees, and tried every remedy. At first she only excommunicated, then she added fnrs in money, then exile — at last she was compelled to have recourse to death. For here- tics despise excominunication, and say that it is a brut'tm fiUmen. If you tlireaten them with pecu- niary lines, they neither fear God nor regard man ; well knowing that fools will not be wantmg who will beUeve them, and by whom they will be supported. If you throw them into pi-ison, or send them into exile, they corrupt their neighbours by their lan- guage, iind those who are at a distance by their books; therefore the only remedy is, to send them speedily to their proper 2)l<-i^e''''' And he goes on to say : — " It is an act ofhindness to obstinate heretics to take them out of this life ; for the longer they live the more errors they invent, the more men do they per- vert, and tlie greater damnation do they acquire v.nto And nowhere, perhaps, is the diabolical policy of Rome, on tliis point, more plainly and ti-uthfully stated than in a passage by the same Cardinal Bel- larmine : — " If, indeed," says he, " it can ledone, heretics ARE DNDour.TEDLY TO BE EXTIRPATED; but if they can- not, either because they are not sufficiently known, and there is diinger lest the innocent should suffer for the guilty, or if they are stronger than v:e are, and there is danger, if we attack them in war, that more of us would fall than of them, tlieJi %ve are to keep quiet.'''' And again : — " Heretics, when strong, are to be committed to god; wuen weak, to the executioner." " Here for once," in the words of a cotemporary,* " we see Popery without her maslc. When heretics are strong (like the Protestants of England), they are not to be attacked; when they are weak (like Maria Joacjuina and her fellow-Christiiuis in Ma- deira), they are to be exterminated. And this is the system which the British Government now propose to patronize by including a seminary for the train- ing of its teachers amongst the established institu- tions of the nation !" * London Watchman of March 19. Again, it is a well-known doctrine of the Romish Church, that no priest is at liberty to divulge, in any case, the secrets of the confessional, even should it be to save a man\ life, or to prevent a, revolution. So well understood is this, that a converted Popish priest (the Rev. L. J. Nolan), stated some years acco that, through tlie confessional, he had been frequently apprised of intended assassinations and most diabo- lical conspiracies; but had been prevented, by what is called " the seal of confession," from giving the slightest uitimation to the marl:ed-out victims of slaughter — although in one instance ho met in the public streets a man v.'hom he knew it was intended to murder ! But that our readers may have some idea of the lengths to which Romish doctrine and practice go in this matter, we solicit their attention to the follow- ing passage from " Dens' Theology," one of the May- nooth class-books, also used in many of the Roman Catholic colleges : — " AV'hat ought a confessor to answer, being interro- gated concerning trath, which he has knov.'n through sacramental conlession alone ':' — He ought to answer that HE DOES NOT KNOW IT; AND, IF NECESSARY, CON- FIR.y THE SAME DY AN OATH. " It is objected — It is in no case lawful to tell a falsehood; but the confessor would tell a falsehood, because he knows the ti"uth; therefore, &c. " Ansv,er. — [ deny the minor, that is, that the con- fessor would lie, bec;i.Hse such confessor is interro- gated as a man, a.id replies as a man; but now he does not know that truth as a man, though he knows IT AS God, and that sense is naturally mherent in the rejjly, for wlion he is interrogated or rephes out of confession, he is considered as a man. " What if it be directly inquired of the confessor, whether he k^o^vs a particular thing by sacrar.iental confession ^ — It is replicil, In this case he ought to answer nothing ; so think Steyaert and Sylvius. But the interrogation is to be rejected as unpious; or he can say absolutely, not in relation to the question, ' I know nothing,' because the word ' I ' restricts to knov.'ledge acquired by him as a man." We might go over several other doctrines taught to the students at JIaynooth, and afterwards, of course, tauglit by them as priests to the Irish people, but our hmits forbid; and enough has been stated to show how extreme — hov/ fearfully blasphemous and intolerant a thing that Maynooth Popery is, which our Government is so ready to patronize. II. Viewed as a proof of the influence which the Vatican exercises over the legislative councils of our land, the proposed measure may well fill us with alarm ; for we cannot doubt that Rome herself is at the bottom of the whole matter. She has her agents every^vhere — all at work, if not above ground, under it — and all directed by the consummate craft of Je- suitism. And so vrell have her plans been laid, and so vigorously have they been followed out, that at tills moihent she may be said to govern most of the Governments of Europe. P'rance is at her feet — the royal family there being among the most active of her servants. Not long ago Spain, while Espartero was regent, was at war with Rome, and confiscated a large projiortion of the immense jiroperty held by her ecclesiastics. Now, however, Espartero being driven from the kingdom — (may it not have been by 7S THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Popisli intrigue ?) — the property is restored, and she has resumed her sway. In Portugal, her influence is sufficient to get laws passed declaring it death for a Portuguese to turn Protestant. And with most of the Governments of the Continent her will is law; as a recent proof of which it may be mentioned, that in Austria and Bavaria it has been declared illegal for any one to join the German Catholic Church which has sprung from the movement of John Ronge. These are facts sad and startling enough. But what shall we say when we find that even this is not all ; but that, worse than all, Rome is also so influential with the Govermnent of our own Protestant land, as to procure from it a large sum annually for the educa- tion of priests, whom she may disperse over the whole country with the \-iew of seducing the people from their Protestantism, and again bringing in her own dark and despotic reign ? We need scarcely further remark that, III. The proposed measure is alarming and dis- couraging, when viewed in connection with the prospects of Protestantism. These are at present anything but promising. Popery has not only the majority of the Governments of Europe on her side, and is not only working through them, she is availing herself of every means within her power which may assist her in the attainment of her object. Swarms of priests are at work — the Jesuits are at work — her missionaries are at work — the press is at work, tracts being distributed in huntkeds of thousands — and all is under the direction of a master-hand. Enormous sums are annvially raised to carry on the warfare, so that her cofFers are never empty. And what is Pro- testantism doing all the while ? What plans are devised — what steps are taken wherewith to meet the enemy, and bafBe him ? Why, the first thing that nov/ stares us in the face, as an answer to such question, is the fact, that the chief Protestant Government of the world is doing what ? — is actually helping Rome v:ith riijluence aiid money to secure that ascendency after 'which she is straining J And what are the Protestant Churches doing? In our own land, the Church of England has more than enough to do with a mass of Papists among her own clergy, aU actively engaged in spreading Popish principles within her borders, under the g-uise of Protestant truths. And the other Churches, it may be said, are doing nothing, at least nothing aggressive. They have their missionaries to the heathen, and it is well — they should double them ; but when they see Rome making such rapid strides to supremacy, that the world is " wondering after the Beast," what are they doing to withstand her ? when they see whole kingdoms already under her withering sway, and others likely soon to be in the same position, what are they doing to save them ^ when the enemy is coming in like a flood, where is the standard which they ought to lift against him ? — where are their missionaries to Popish countries ? Is it said these are shut against them ? It is not so with them all. France is open; and how miserably inadequate are the means adopted for leading the many millions of her people to the truth as it is in Jesus ! Several of the kingdoms of the Continent are open, and what is done for them ? If we do not avail ourselves of the openings which 'are before us, how can we expect the Lord to open up other fields which are now in- accessible ? In France, on the Continent, and in Ire- land, little has been done ; and on that little such a blessing has been vouchsafed as may well fill our hearts with hope that if greater eiforts were made — efforts more commensurate w ith the necessity — ^tlie windows of heaven would be opened, and the landfi which are now iron-bound and barren under the blight of Rome, would receive such a shower of the Spirit's blessing as might convert them into gar- dens of the Lord. AVhen ivill the Churches be awakened to a sense of their duty in this matter ? and when will they perform it ? When, casting aside the quarrels which subsist among themselves, will they, as one man, go forth to put to flight the armies of the aliens ? Much is said in our day about Chris- tian union ; but not too much, if more were felt. The strength of Rome is in her union. /;;. action, she is not divided, but brings a imited strength to bear upon the accomplishment of all her objects, and therefore she succeeds. Protestantism " is divided against her- self," and how can she expoct to stand ? Her weak- ness is in her divisions — her strength would return Mere these but healed. " The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice." Tliis is the comfort of all the true people of God in the midst of trouble, or in the prospect of it. And it ought to be our comfort now, as it shows lis where lies our strength. But let us not look for results -with- out using means. Let us be much in prayer to him that he would arise and plead his own cavise — that he would show his servants what they ought to do, and give them grace and strength to do it. " The Lord reigneth; let the earth tremble." These are words which seal the doom of Rome. The time is coming when she shall be made to drink " the wine of astonishm.ent," and shall fall before the judgments with which the Lord shall visit her. But let not such a consideration make us lukewarm in the work. How many immortal souls is she now keeping in darkness and in bondage ! SUDDEN DEATH. [The remarkable circumstance this Poem records happened while a party of friends were debating which might be the most happy death.] Vriiich is the happiest death to die ? " Oh ! " said one, " if I might choose, Long at the gate of bliss would I lie, And feast my spirit ere I fly With bright celestial views. Mine were a lingering death without pain— A death which all might love to see. And mark how bright and sweet would ho The victory I should gain. " Fain would I catch a hjTnn of love From the angel-harps that ring above And sing it as my parting breath Quivered and expired in death ; ON THE MUTUAL DUTIES OF MASTERS AND SERVANTS, &c. 79 So that those on earth mjiy hear- E The harp-notes of another sphere, And mark, when nature faints and dies, ! What springs of lieaveuly light arise." " No,'' said another, " no not I ; Sudden as tliought is the death I -would die ; I would suddenly throw my shackles by, Nor bear a single pang at parting, Nor see the tear of sorrow starting. Nor hear the quivering lips that bless me, Nor feel the hands of love that press me. Nor the frame with mortal terror shaking, ' Nor the heart where love's soft bands arc breaking; So Avould I die ! All bliss witliout a pang to cloud it ! All joy without a pain to shroud it ! Not slain, but caught up, as it were, To meet my Saviour in the air ! So would I die ! Oh I how bright Were the realms of light, Bm-sting at once upon the sight ! Even so, I long to go — These parting hours how sad and slow I " His voice grew faint, and fixed was his eye, As if gazing on visions of ecstasy ; The hue of his cheeks and lips decayed — Around his mouth a sweet smile played ; They looked — he was dead ! His spirit had fled Painless and swift as his own desire ; The soul undrfst, From her mortal vest. Had stepped in her car of heavenly fire, And proved how briglit Were the realms of light. Bursting at once upon the sight ! Axon. ON THE MUTUAL DUTIES OF MASTERS AND SERVANTS IN RELATION TO THE SABBATH. BY THE REV. DAVID KING, LL.D., GLASGOW. IIavixg, in a foniicr paper, considered the duties of masters and servants in private fami- lies, I now proceed to speak of the rclationshij) as t'xen)j)lilied in pnblie works. Under tills phraseolon^y I include those wlio arc employed in shops and offices, as well as in mills, warehouses, and various kinds of large manufacturing estahlisliments. We cannot be ex])Iieit in saying how much employers have here in tlu-ir ])ower. It would be easy to say to them: "(live moderate work and ))lenty of wages, and you will thus ])romote the moral improvement, as well as tlie tem])oral comfort of your workuien, and ])ut tiiem into a ))Osition exceedingly favourable to Sabbath-day observance." This is easily said, but not so easily done. The master's system is moulded ♦.0 a vast extent by influences external to him- self, and over which he has but secondary con- trol. Traffic has its jdace in the appointed constitution of the world, and by the excel- lence of that constitution, has mucli of self-cor- recting tendency, if left to its native, and, I may say, its divine operation. But if a blinded ])olicy has opjiosed itself to a beneficent I'rovi- deuce, no master can annul national impediments by his solitary fiat, or actr iu the face of them, as if they liad no existence. I make these re- marks merely to draw a line of demarcation, and show wliat may be reasonably asked of masters indlndtiaUy. No doubt, federal grie- vances should be redressed, ancl such legisla- tion adojited as would jdaco commerce on au enlightened footing, and thus facilitate the keejang of all (rod's commandments. But, on the duty of the State, or the subjects in relation to the State, I do not here enter— /rsf. Because it would take me too far away irom the imme- diate subject which I proposed to consider; second, Because the discussion would assume too nmch of a political aspect for a religious publication ; and, third, Because I would bo in danger of relmquishing the common gi-ound of fraternal co-operationj; for, while all will admit that the powers of masters and servants to fulfil adequately the duties of their stations must be greatly affected by the shape and com- plexion whicli law has given to trade, all are not agreed what the law should be, and how it may be amended. Conceding, then, that masters and servants cannot, as such, put everything to right which affects the Sabbath injuriously, and leaving the best legislative means of making the relationship happy and profitable, to the distinctive pi'ovince of the political economist, I shall content myself with offering some sug- gestions, strictly religious in their character, and such as all whom they concern may carry into practice. 1 . Beginning in this case, as in the former, \f\\.\\Masters, there is cause for congratulation in seeing so general a cessation from business on the Sabbath, throughout this country. "We may still know the day by its indications, and read in a prevalent tranquillity, that it is a day of rest. But tliere are exceptions to this admis- sion. One of a gloomy character has been lately added to the number. A great national undertaking has been Inade the occasion of shocking tlie sacred impressions of religious society, and coercing the servants of a i)owerful company into unwarrantable and desecrating labours. I am aware how all opposition to railway travelling on Sabbath is jeered at by nundjers, and esi)ecially by interested parties, who maintain the innovation, as they introduced it with a high hand, and with uncomjironusing (•(>ntemi)t of wounded conviction. But we are not to be deterred, in this manner, from sjjeak- ing honestly on an important question. If the matter were "settled," as some say, there might be little good in fruitless attem|)ts to disturb its settlement. But the evil lamented is only 80 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ill its first stage. When railway communications shall have been opened with England, the trains on all the Scotch lines will run on Sabbath ; coaches and steam-boats will be equally in ac- tion, for the one accommodation would be im- perfect without the other ; and thus our Vv'hole country will be traversed " by lovers of plea- sure" from its shores to its centre, from its crowded cities to its secluded lakes, on that sacred day, when the quiet of nature was wont to reflect the peace-speaking efficacy of a gra- cious revelation. 0 that the calamity may still be arrested ! The originators of it have gained a victory ; let them acquire the higher honour of beneficent concession. There has been enough of heat and temper. Let a spirit of Christian conciliation be now cherished, and let that spirit appear in " remembering the Sab- bath-day, to keep it holy." The rest of the Sabbath is entrenched upon in other cases ; and its causefess violation is always, even on the smallest scale, to be un- feignedly lamented. If a servant or clerk be simply sent for letters on the Lord's-day, no special reason impdling to the action, the affair may seem trivial ; but it concerns and impugns a great principle, and nothing is unimportant which militates against the whole claim of the Sabbath, and unsettles, in a single mind, the impression of its sacredness. Where the Sabbath itself is not directly en- croached upon, an equal amount of mischief is done, in many cases, by the misimprovemeiit of adjacent time, and especially by prolonging business to unseasonable hours on Saturday night. If young men and women are made to toil all the day preceding the Sabbath, and, in- stead of being released sooner than usual from their labours, to bring the mind into harmony with the season and solemnities before them, are detained and toiled through the evening- till the eleventh hour is struck, or the very midnight has been reached — how is such pre- paration compatible with a becoming entrance on the Sabbath, or spirited fulfilment of its functions ? It may be difficult at once, and in every case, to change this system entirely; but, at all events, a reform should be ti-ied. What can be done should be done, and no eftbrt should be spared to undo the rigour of such cruel bondage. The evil of late business-liours, especially on the Saturday night, is happily re- ceiving an augmented attention ; and all classes should combine in promoting the improvement in this province which has already commenced. Let the sufferers from the abuse i)lead for redress respectfully, but unceasingly ; let fami- lies beware of deferring purchases to unseason- able hours which can be made eai'ly ; and let a prefeience be given to those generous employers who listen to the calls of humanity, and peril their profits, or make an undoubted sacrifice in acting kindly by their labourers. Is the cry raised against exclusive dealing? — Let them show some conscience who appeal to its dic- tates, and exemplify that mercy of which they solicit the benefit. i Apart altogether from the prolongation of sei'vice, much evil has resulted from the timing of its remuneration. The payment of wages on Saturday afternoon has not only produced much dissipation throughout the evening of that day, but has extended, as might have been an- ticipated, its ruinous influence to the day fol- lowing, and caused the Sabbath, and its insti- tutions to be trampled under foot. But other arrangements are now extensively adopted, and we may hope that, ere long, they will obtain universally. To my own knowledge, the change has been accompanied, in various cases, with the happiest results. Masters should not deem it enough, hov/ever, to make good external ar- rangements. It is of great importance that they should look into the moral condition of their establishments, and endeavour to find out and repress every demoralizing abuse. If anj' servants have it for their eflfort and theii- glory to corrupt their fellow-servants, and more es- pecially to snare the young and inexperienced; if tliis practice be carried on constantly, sys- tematically, and unblushingly, surely these are cases calling for intervention. An individual who always inebriated himself, would bo dis- missed from the Avorks ; but he who misleads others — he v/ho diffuses pestilence in his every breath^ — who imprints curse with his every stei) — surely a seducer like this is infinitely more guilty, and infinitely more dangerous ! Nor should masters be careful only to dis- courage immorality — they should do what in them lies to induce and further good conduct. Might they not institute Sabbath schools for the children of workmen ? ^Mighfc they not facilitate attendance on day-schools for general education ? Slight they not evince sympathy with their labourers, by giving special help where it is specially needed ? And where the hand of Death breaks the staff of life, might they not visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction ? Above all, might they not set a pattern of Sabbath propriety and general well-doing, in their own behaviour, before the eyes of their servants ? Without this, all other expedients will go for little; and tliLs stimulus, even when alone, has a mighty influence. There is no preaching of righteousness like the prac- tising of righteousness; and if superior station and godly demeanour, from bemg united in fact, were to become associated in the public mind, it would be impossible to estimate the conse- quent benefit. Would that overseers put the averment to the test ! You are intent on gain; but nothing would be more lucrative than such a career. It secures the blessing that makes rich, and adds no sorrow. It belongs to that godliness which has the promise of the life that now is, and that which is to come. Your pre- sent elevation will cease; your enterprises will go down, or be carried on by others; all your coffers, empty or replenished, you shall soon COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON. . 81 i leave behind you; and >vhat yon call yonr own will swell the account of another's wealth. But if you do good, real, moral, and relij^ious good, it will not prove so perisliable. If the tens, or twenties, or hundreds of labourers intrusted to you are benefited by the relationshij) — are ren- dered more sober, more thoughtful, more blame- less, more devotional — this is a return wliicli will cross the grave with you, and still remain when heaven and earth shall pass away. Your five talents, instead of being lost, will bring ten, and elicit for you the joyous salutation : "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I wiU make thee ruler over many tilings." 2. I should now speak to those who are ser- vants in iiublic works. But as the remarks already made have greatly exceeded the limits I had proposed for them, I nmst be brief on this topic. — It is the duty of all who are em- ployed in the manner supposed, to support masters in adopting such measures as I have recommended. Welcome the scrutiny from which evil-doers shrink, and which is to .save you from their contagion. Comply with regu- lations, and submit to restrictions which may bo sevei'e in tlieir asj)ect, but are salutary in their design. Allow your children the entire bene- fit of the instructions accessible to them; oc- cupy the spare time which maybe extended to you in cultivating personal improvement, or in doing good to others ; and should any malign these constituents of righteous suiierintendence, be ever ready to defend them with the energy of courage and the fervour of gratitude. In thus sjieaking, I have? taken for granted what will hardly be denied — that if you have something to fear from masters, you have also not a little to appreheml from one another. Yoii mingle with destroyers; and the equality of footing which they occupy with yon, aids all their at- tacks. Already committed themselves, they sing from the fowler's cage, to allure you to its wires, promising you liberty, while they them- selves are the servants of corruption; for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage. They strive to render yea the victims of bad jmncijjles and bad practices. I have not room to discuss either of these in its details, and descant on the characteristic features of its ensnaring insidiousness ; but I may remark on their alliance, and point to the lesson which it teaches us. A conjunction like this is more than sus])icious. If they wlio urge you to discredit Scripture, and contenm tlie Sabbath, and liold all l>iety in derision, be the same persons who tempt yon to waste time, and revel in the gin-shop, and practise lewdness, and pass, by successive stages, into every species and excess of wickedness — have you not cause to consider o})inions false of which the opera- tion is so flagitious i No trutJis ai-e better sub- stantiated than tliese two — first, That there is a God, an all-perfect God, in whom we live, and move, and have our being; and, secondly. That if I there be such a Cod, he ought to be supremely honoured. Is it not reasonable that he who gave us memory, should be remembered — that he who gave us belief, shoidd be trusted — that he who made us think, should be thought of — that he who implanted love, should have the first place in our affections ? The jjositions have an almost axiomate certainty; and yon may be, therefore, well assured tliat tenets M'hich witlidraw you from (iod withdraw you from truth; and tliat theories, be they ever so plausi- ble, which involve you in iniquity, must be themselves founded in error. On the other liand, you have a strong presumptive proof that the Scriptures come from God, if they lead you to 1dm, and that a system must have truth for its pathway, which has holiness for its end. On these subjects, however, I cannot now ex- patiate. Read the Word of God for yourselves, and that will supply all omissions. It is a good character of which the admiration grows upon you with acquaintance; and that is the cjiarac- ter of the Scriptures. The more you ponder them and prove them, the more will you be disposed to say : "Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever; for they are the re- joicing of my heart." Think it not enough to read or to learn the Scriptures — lire them. Are others active and bold against God ; — much more show your activity and courage on his side. Meet for intellectual iinpi-ovement — meet for religious exercises. Betake yourselves to Christ, and become, if you are not already, members of his Churcli. AMiatever be the section of it to which j-ou attach yourselves, stir up zeal among its members. Join its senior classes for your own edification, and if it be in your power form junior classes, and superintend them. To do the utmost jjossiblo good — to fill life with as much beneficence as its limits will allow — ^be this the aim of your honourable ambition. Such a career is the best antidote to Atheism and })rofligacy, as it is the best vindication of C'hristian doctrine : " For so is the will of God, that witli well-doing ye put to silence the ignorance of foolish men." COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON. TuK following incident in the life of this truly Christian lady, will be read with interest: — At one time Lady Iluntingdon engaged in an affair which had excited much of tlie pubhc atten- tion, and ultimately drew forth the censures of royalty. Dr Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterlmry, during the preceding winter, had given several large balls and con>-i\ial routs at his i)alace. Mrs Corn- wallis was also recognised, in all the journals of the day, as a leading personage in the fashionable world, who eclipsed cTCrybody by the spleiuloiir and magni- ficence of her equipages and entertainments. These outrages on all decency attracted the notice of every friend to propriety, and even drew fortli many sati- rical observations from some of the gay personages who were most frequently^at the palace. Although 82 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Lady Huntingdon did not feel herself called upon to be a regulator of public morals, she nevertheless felt that such gross violations of established order and decency required some check. With tlie Archbishop her Ladyship was unacquainted ; but, through the medium of a family connection, she was resolved on making some attempt, in a ])rivate way, to put a stop to what was so loudly complained of on all sides. George, first Marquis of Townshend, had married her Ladyship's cousin. Lady Charlotte Compton, only sur- viving child of the Earl of Northampton, who in- herited, in his own right, the baronies of Compton and ferrars of Chartley. The JIarquis was nephew, by marriage, to Charles Earl of Cornwallis, brother to the archbishop; and by this means Lady Hun- tingdon obtained an audience with his Grace of Canterbui-y, having been introduced by the Marquis of Townshend, who attended her to the palace, and seconded her Ladyship's remonstrances. Although this matter was conducted with the ut- most privacy and delicacy on the part of Lady Hun- tingdon and the Marquis of Townshend, his Grace was violently offended; and Mrs Cornwallis scrupled not to reprobate and ridicule Lady Huntingdon in all the fashionable circles. But this, instead of ha^ang the effect she so much desired, only drew additional odium on the archbishop, whose popularity sustained a. severe shook by a line of proceeding so utterly in- consistent with the gravity and decorum of the sacred character of a prelate. Lady Huntingdon, having failed in this attempt, next applied to Mr Madan, whose brother, Dr Spencer Madan, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, had mar- ried Lady Charlotte Cornwallis, niece to the arch- bishop. But his Grace, still disregarding every re- monstrance, and becoming more violent in his abuses of those whom he was pleased to brand as Methodists and hypocrites. Lady Huntingdon made application for a private audience with the king (George III.), which was most graciously granted. On the day appointed, her Ladyship, accompanied by the Duchess of Ancaster and Lord Dartmouth, went to the king's palace at Kew, where she was re- ceived in the most gracious manner by both their majesties. The king listened to everything she said with great dignity and marked earnestness, but with evident emotion. " Madam," said he, " the feelings you have discovered, and the conduct you have adopted on this occasion, are highly creditable to you. The archbishop's behaviour has been slightly hinted to me already; but now that I have a certainty of his proceedings, and his ungracious conduct towards your Ladyship, after your trouble in remonstrating with him, I sliall interpose my authority, and see what that will do towards reforming such indecent practices." Lady Huntingdon had the honour of conversing with their Majesties for upwards of an hour, on a great variety of toj)ics. The king, and also the queen, complimented her Ladyship, in the highest terms, on the many benevo- lent actions which had been reported to them, and her great and commendable zeal in the cause of re- ligion. His Majesty then told Lady Huntingdon that he was no stranger to her proceedings ; but added, that he often found it difficult to obtain an unprejudiced account of what she said and did. " I have been told so many odd .stories of your Ladyship," said the king " that I am free to confess I felt a great de- gree of curiosity to see if you were at all hke other women ; and I am happy in having an opportunity of assuring your Ladyship of the vei-y good opinion I have of you, and how very highly I estimate yoiu- character, your zeal, and abilities, which cannot be consecrated to a more noble purpose." His Majesty then spoke of the talents of some of her Ladyship's preachers, whom he understood were very eloquent men. " The bishops," said he, " are very jealous of such men ;" and he went on to men- tion a conversation he had lately had with a ilignitary whom he would not name. The prelate had com- plained of the conduct of some of Lady Huntingdon's students and ministers, who had made a great dis- turbance in his diocese. " Make bishops of them — make bishops of them," said the king. " That might be done," replied the bishop ; " but, please your Majesty, we cannot make a bishop of Lady Hunting- don." " Well, well," said the king, " see if you can- not imitate the zeal of these men." The queen added, " You cannot make a bishop of her, 'tis true : it would be a lucky cu'cumstance if you could, for she puts you all to shame." His Lordship made some reply, which did not please the king; and his Majesty, mth more than usual warmth, remarked, " I wish there was a Lady Huntingdon in every diocese in the kingdom." It is remarkable, that this bishop never after made his appearance at court. " We discussed a great many topics," says Lady Huntingdon; "for the conversation lasted upwards of an hour, without intermission. The queen spoke a good deal, asked many questions, and, before I re- tned, insisted on my taking some refreshment." A few days after this interview, the good monarcli addressed the follomng admonitory letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury : — " My good Lord Primate, — I could not delay giving you the notification of the grief and concern with which my breast was affected, at receiving authentic information that routs have made their way into your palace. At the same time, I must signify to you my sentiments on this subject, v/hich hold these levities and vain dissipations as utterly inexpedient, if not unlawful, to pass in a residence for many centuries devoted to divine studies, religious retirement, and the extensive exercise of charity and benevolence — I add, in a place where so many of yoiu- predecessors have led their lives in such sanc- tity as has thrown lustre on the pure rehgion they professed and adorned. " From the dissatisfaction vritli which you must perceive I behold these improprieties — not to speak in harsher terms — and on still more pious principles, I trust you will suppress them immediately; so that I may not have occasion to show any further marks of my displeasure, or to interpose in a different man- ner. May God take your Grace into his almighty protection ! " I remain, My Lord Primate, your gracious friend, G. R." The first time their Majesties saw Lord Dartmouth, after the interview with Lady Huntingdon, the king told him he thought her Ladyship one of the best of vi'omen — a sentiment in which the queen heartily concurred. " I was much taken with her appearance and manner," said his Majesty : " there is something so noble, so commanding, and withal so engaging about her, that I am quite captivated with her Lady- ship. She appears to possess talents of a very su- perior order ; is clever, well informed, and has all the ease and politeness belonging to a woman of rank. With all the enthusiasm ascribed to her, she is an honour to her sex and the nation." The Duchess of Ancaster was for some years a constant attendant at Lady Huntingdon's house, and always professed a great respect for religious persons, with whom she frequently associated. For Lord Dartmouth she had a very high esteem, and always lived in habits of great intimacy with him and Lady Dartmouth. This union was strengthened by a near family connection, the Duke of Ancaster having had, MISCELLANEOUS. 83 for his first wife, Lady Nicholl, the motlier of Lr.dy Dartmouth. One day, tit court, Lady Huntingdon became the subject of conversation ; when a lady of rank observed, she thouglit her " so great an en- thusiast, tliat she certainly nuist be deranged in her intellect." The king, who had been listening most attentively, replied, with great quickness : " Deranged, Madam, did you say •'" " Yes, please your Majesty," said her Ladyship ; " for no one could act as she does that was not insane :" and -then related the circum- stance of Lady Huntingdon having called on the Archbishoj) of Canterbury to " preach to his (Irace for presuming to see company; which impertinence," she said, " Mrs C'ornwallis resented with a becom- ing spirit." Their Majesties and the Duchess of Ancaster exchanged looks, and the king laughed heartily. The Duchess of Hamilton, who was present, fear- ing the unlbrtunate marchioness ■would get deeper into the scrape, made a motion to her to be silent; which the king perceiving, innuediately demanded of her Lad3'ship what Mrs Cornwallis had said of Lady Huntingdon, and if the archbishop had not given her his blessing. "His blessing!" repeated the mar- chioness, with much surprise ; " no, indeed, please j'our Majesty; I am sure she had no right to expect any such favour. 1 really don't know what I might have said, had she intruded herself upon me in a similar manner." Observing the Duchess of Ancas- ter smile, the marchioness added : " H j'our Majesty wishes to be further informed of Lady Huntingdon's jiractices, I dare say the Duchess of Ancaster can give you every information, as she is a very great friend of her Ladyship's." " I am proud of the friendship of such a Avoman," replied the duchess ; '■ and know of nothing to condemn, but much to commend in the Countess of Huntingdon." The queen, perceiving the temper of the marchioness a little rufHed, observed that she had lately derived much pleasure in the society of Lady Iluntmgdou, whom she considered a very sensible, a very clever, and a very good woman. The unfortunate mar- chioness was all astonishment and confusion; and would have withdrawn immediatelj', had not the king in the kindest manner taken her by the hand, and assured her she was "quite mistaken in the opinion she had formed of Lady Huntingdon." "Pray, Madam," said his Majesty, "are you ac- quainted with her ?" The marchioness replied in the negative. " Have you ever been in company with her?" inquired the king. " Never I" replied the astonished marchioness. " Then," said the monarch, " never form your opinion of any one from the ill-natured remarks and censures of others. Judge for yourself; and you have my leave to tell every body how highly 1 think of Lady Huntingdon." • — Life end I'linc-i of (he Cuuntess of HuntuKjdon. AFFLICTION. Metiiinks if ye would know IIoTT visitations of calamity Affect the pious soul, "tis shown you here. Look yonder at that cloud, ■which, through the sky Sailing along, doth cross in her career The rolling moon. I watched it as it came. And deemed the deep opaque would blot her beams; But melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes The orb with richer beauties than her o'wti ; Then, passing, leaves her in her light serene. SOUTHEY. The late Rev. Mr Young (United Secession), Jed- burgh, was once ■\TS:ting the death-bed of an aged member of his congregation, who was hourly looking for his last change. " Well, my friend," said the minister, " how do you feel yourself to-day >"'' " Very weel, Sir," was the answer, " very weel, hut jiuit a ivee covfvsed wi'' theflittin''.'''' One stormy winter day he was ■visiting another of his people, an old man, who lived in great poverty in a lonely cottage a few miles from Jedburgh. He found him sitting with the Bible open on his knees, but in outward circumstances of gi'eat discoml'ort — the snow drifting through the roof, and under the door, and scarce any fire on the hearth. " What are you about to-day, John ?" was Mr Young's question on entering. " Ah ! Sir," said the happy saint, " Pm sittiii' under His shadow wV great delight ! " Love to Christ. — Dear brethren, get love to the Lord Jesus, and you have everythmg. Union to Jesus is salvation. Love to Jesus is religion. Love to the Lord Jesus is essential and vital Christianity. It is the main-spring of the life of God in the soul of man. It is the all-inclusive germ, -w'hich involves within it every other grace. It is the pervasive spirit, without which the most correct demeanour is but dead Avorks, and the seemliest exertions are an elegant futility. Love to Christ is the best incentive to action— the best antidote to idolatry. It adorns the labours which it animates, and hallows the friend- ships which it overshadows. It is the smell of the ivory wardrobe — the precious perfume of the believer's character — the fragrant mystery which only lingers round those souls which have been to a better clime. Its oi)eration is most marvellous ; for when there is enough of it, it makes the timid bold, and the slothful diligent. It inits eloquence into the stammering tongue, and energy into the withered arm, and inge- nuity into the dull, lethargic brain. It takes posses- sion of the soul, and a joyous lustre beams in languid eyes, and mngs of new obedience sprout from lazy, leaden feet. Love to Christ is the soul's true heroism, which courts gigantic feats, which selects the heaviest loads and the hardest toils, which glories in tril)ula- tions, and hugs reproaches, and smiles at death till tlie King of Terrors smiles again. It is the aliment which feeds assurance — the opiate which lulls suspi- cions— the oblivious draught which scatters misery and remembers poverty no more. IjOvc to Jesus is the beauty of the believing soul; it is the elasticity of the willing steps, and the brightness of the glowing coun- tenance. If you would be a happy, a holy, and an use- ful Christian, you must be an eminently Christ-loving disciple. If you have no love to Jesus at all, then you are none of his. But if you have a little love — ever so little — a little drop, almost frozen in the coldness of your icy heai-t — oh ! seek more. Look to Jesus, and cry for the Spirit till you find your love increas- ing; till you find it droA\Tiing besetting sins; till you find it drowning guilty fears — rising, till it touch that index, and open your closed lips — rising, till every nook and cranny of the soul is filled witli it, and all the actions of life and relations of earth are pervaded by it — rising, till it swell up to the brim, and, Hke the apostle's love, rush over in a full assurance : " Yes, I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pre- sent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, wliich is in Clirist Jesus our Lord." — Hamilton's Life in £articsi. 84 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ©ailg Brcati. FRIDAY. " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."— Matt. xi. ^8. Does the Gospel word proclaim Rest for those who weary be ? Then, niv soul, put in thy claim- Sure that promise speaks to thee : Marks of grace 1 cannot siiow, All polluted is my best ; Yet I weary am, I know. And the weary long for rest. Resolve to take no rest till you be in the element and place of soul-rest, where solid rest indeed is. Rest not till you be with Christ. Though all the world should offer their best, turn them by with dis- dain ; if they will not be turned by throw them down, and go over" them and trample upon them. Say, You have no rest to give me, nor will I take any at your hands, nor from any creature. There is no rest lor me till I be under His shadow, who endured so mucli trouble to purchase my rest, and whom having found, I may sit down quiet and satisfied; and when the men of the world may boast of the highest content, I will out\-ie all with this one word : " My beloved is mine, and I am his." — Leighlon. SATURDAY. "And other (seed) fell on good ground, and did yield fruit." — JIark iv. 8. But where the Lord of grace and power Has bless'd the happy field. How plenteous is the golden store The deep-wrought furrows yield ! The good ground is the good heart. No one is good but through the grace of God. It was a mercy of thee, O Lord, to purchase, at so dear a rate, such barren and accursed ground, full of thorns and briers, and tit only to be burned, that thou mightest make it a rich and blessed soil, fruitful in every kind of good fruit ! Blind and miserable must that man be who attributes this work to himself, and gives not thee the glory of it, O my Saviour ! — QicesneL SABBATH. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterd.^y, to-day, and for ever."— Hed. xiii. 8. Tliis God is the God we adore. Our faithful, unchangeable friend, Whose love is as great as his power. And knows neither measure nor end. 'Tis Jesus, the first and the last. Whose Spirit shall guide us s.ife home ; We'll praise him for all that is i>ast. And trust him for all that's to come. Oh ! how cheering to know that Christ is now the same in heaven as he was when on earth ; tliat the glory of heaven has not changed him; that, when he died, he did not throw aside our nature, but resumed it at his resurrection, and still retains it in personal union with the divme ; that, amidst the. joys of heaven, he has not forgotten any one of his " little flock," for whom he sufl'ered in the garden and on the cross ; that he who was " bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh," is now made " head over all things," yet, that he still regards us with a brother's eye ; that, having borne our grief, he still sympathizes with our sorrows — " a great High Priest passed into the heavens," yet, " touched with a feeling of om* infirmities ! " AVhile awed by the majesty of his Godhead, how cheering to think of the tenderness of his humanity ; and, when almost afraid to lift up om- eyes to the place where his honour dwelleth, how atfecting the thought, that there is a human heart on the tlirone. — Buc/iMiian. " 1 have seen all the works that are done under the sunj and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit."— EccLES. i. 14. Sin has spread a curse aro imd Poison'd all things here below; On this base polluted ground Peace and joy can never grow. Think how little the world can do for you, and what it doth, how deceitfully — what stings there are ■with its honey — what a farewell succeeds its welcome! When this Jael brings you milk in the one hand, know she hath a nail in the other. — Bishop Hall. " God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of oiU" Lord Jesus Christ." — Gal. vi. 14. When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss. And pour contempt on all my pride. The glory of the cross of Christ which we are chiefly to esteem, is the glory of God's infinite per- fections displayed in the work of redemption. God's love to his people is from everlasting to everlasting; but from everlasting to everlasting there is no mani- festation of it known, or conceivable ])y us, that can be compared to this. The light of the sun is always the same, but it shines briglitest to us at noon ; the cross of Christ was the noon-tide of everlasting love — the meridian splendour of eternal mercy. There were many bright manifestations of the same love before, but they were like the light of tlie morning, that shines more and more unto the perfect day; and that perfect day was when Christ was on the cross, when darkness covered all the Iand.^il/'Z/aiS)-/?j. WEDNESDAY. "Be ye holy."— 1 Pet. i. IG. True faith unites to Christ the root, . By him producing holy fruit ; And they who no such fruit can show. Still on the stock of nature grow. I wish for no other heaven on this side of the last sea I must cross, than this service of Christ — to make my blackness beauty, and my deadness life. I long much for that day wlien I shall be altogether holy. O what spots are yet unwashed ! — Rutherford. THURSDAY. " Seek ye the Lord while yet he may be found." — Isa. Ir. 6. He will not let me seek in vain ; For all who trust his word Shall everlasting life obtain. And favour from the Lord. Know the Lord and seek Christ. You have a soul that cannot die ; seek for a lodging for your poor soul ; for that clay-house will fall! Set your thoughts often upon death and judgment. Fear not men, but let God be your fear, and make the seeking of Christ j'our daily task. — Ibid. *!is* A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh: Printed by John Johnstone, residing at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at % Hunter Square. London: R. Groombridge &: Sons. Glas- gow : J. R. M'Nair & Co. ; and to be had of any Book- seller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 85 PRACTICAL REMARKS FOUNDED ON JOHN XVII. 1-5. BY JOHN ROBSON, D.D., GLASGOW. " These words spake Josus, and lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, Fatlior, the hour is come ; glorify thy Son. that thy Son also may glorify thee : as thou hast given him power overall flesh, that he should give eternal life to as many as thou hast given him. And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Ctirist, whom thou hast sent. I have glorified tliee on the earth : I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. And now, O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glor^ which I had with thee be- fore the world was." To give a full exposition of this passage -would require more space than can be aflfbrded in a journal such as this. It is a passage familiar to every Christian mind, and the general import of which cannot be mistaken. Taking into view the circumstances in which the prayer of the Saviour was uttered, as well as the substance of the prayer itself, various reflections seem naturally enough suggested by it, with a brief illustration of which this paj^er will be occupied. 1st, The first we mention is, that prayer is a proper conclusion to religious exercises. — Jesus had been employed in instituting the sacrament of the supper, and communicating instruction to his disciples, and he concludes the whole with fervent supplication. In this he has " left us an example, that we should walk in his steps." We 1)elieve that if the public ministrations of the Word, and the private instructions of the family, were more frecjuently followed up by earnest prayer at the throne of grace, both by ministers and people, we should receive more enlarged communications of spiritual iutiuence, and should see brought forth in richer abun- dance those fruits of holiness which are to the praise of God's glory. It is ours to plant and to water; it is (Jod's to give the increase. He has connected the Ijcstowment of blessing with our asking it ; and it is because the outpouring of the heart before God is restrained, that so little apparent good results from the adminis- tration of public ordinances, or from the more private means of religious improvement. Were this duty more faithfully discharged, who can tell v.hat might be the blessed consequences? iliglit we not ex])ect to see more earnest thirsting after spiritual knowledge — more ar- dent longings after the courts of God's house — more deep, and lasting, and saving impres- sions produced — less rejoicing in iniquity, and more rejoicing in the truth — greater delight in heavenly communion, and higher degrees of holiness? Alight we not expect to beliold the spirit of deadness and insensibility, which pre- vails to so lamentable an extent, giving way before the all-powerfid agency of prayer ! Let us, then, acknowledge God in every exercise in which we engage. Let us imi)Iore his blessing, Avhich niaketh rich, and addeth no sorrow ; and thus shall we not only benefit our own souls, No. 8. but become honourably instrumental in ad- vancing Zion's prosperity, in spreading the Redeemer's glory, and in hastening the time when it shall extend to earth's remotest bound. '2(/, A second reflection suggested by the passage is, that prayer forms the best prepara- tive for trials. — This prayer was presented by the Saviour immediately before the last scenes of suifering which awaited him. He says : "The hour is come ;" and, in the prospect of that hour, he commits himself and his followers to his Father in the solemn supplications which tliis chapter contains. No Christian need ex- pect altogether to escape trials ; and, generally s]ieaking, at one period or another of his life, trials of some kind will come in close succession. The standing law of Christ's kingdom is : " In the world ye shall have tribulation." The best preparation for these trials, whether they be expected or come upon us unawares, is that which I have specified. Prayer has a direct tendency to induce that habit of mind which is the surest safeguard in the hour of temptation and of trouble. It leads us to put our trust in all-powerful protection. It conducts us to a fortress and a hiding-place, Avhere we may stand unmoved amid the assaults of enemies, and amid all the storms which may assail us, how- ever dark and tempestuous they be. The mau of prayer is doubly armed. Although weak in himself, he is " strtjug in the Lord, and in the power of his might;" and is thus enabled to sustain the sharpest and severest afflictions which may be mingled in his lot : and not only so, but be })ossesses, so to sjjcak, a talisman which converts these apparently great and op- pressive evils into rich and inestimable bless- ings. Prayer brings him out from the furnace brighter and more resplendent than ever. It lifts his head above the deep waters which had well-nigh overwhelmed him, and bears him to the Rock of Ages, where he may ever stand secure. It raises him to a spiritual elevation, from Mhich he looks down on all the clouds and darkness in which liis worldly pros])ects are enveloped, while all within him and above him is tranquil and serene. Would you, O Chris- tian ! be fortified against those trials which are awaiting you, or sustained under those which may even now be pressing heavily upon you ? Then " watch unto prayer" — abound in prayer ! and, as an angel from heaven was commissioned to strengthen our Saviour amid the agonies of the garden, so will heavenly aid be inq)ai-ted to your soul, and you will thus be enabled to " glory even in tribulations." 3(/, A third reflection is, that the glory of God should be the great end of all our actious.— ^jtril 18, 1845. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Christ constantly kept this great end in view; and when he said anytliing- or did anything, it was that his Father might be glorified. " (xlo- rify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee." Tlie great design which God had in view, in the creation of man, was the manifes- tation of his glory ; and by keeping this object before iis we are only fulfilling the law of our creation. But fallen and degraded man has burst asunder this golden chain which bound him to the throne of the Eternal, and, in the pridk^- of his heart, has substituted his own honour and his selfish interests as the rule of his conduct. He longs and labours for whatever may contribute to his own ag- grandizement, or secure for him the congra- tulations and applause of the world ; and all the while he obstinately shuts his eyes to the frowns of that God whose authority he con- temns, and whose power he virtually defies. He gives np the substance for the shadow. He forsakes "the fountain of living waters" for broken and empty " cisterns." This con- duct not merely implies the deepest guilt, but the most consummate folly. Let Our readers see that their conduct be regulated by higher wis- dom. Keep in mind this general law : " Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks nnto God, even the Father, through him." Remem- ber that God has connected, by an inseparable link and in infinite goodness, the advancement of his glory with your own eternal welfare, and that by aiming continiially at the former, yon are taking the direct path to the attainment of the latter. As you reverence, then, the autho- rity of God — as you value your immoi'tal souls — as you would have the lost dignity and glory of your nature restored — let this be your earnest and habitual prayer : " Hallowed be thy name, and enable us to hallow it." 4th, A fourth subject of reflection is, the se- curity of the people of God. — Christ is invested with all power, that he may give eternal life to as many as the Father hath given him. Hav- ing all power, and exercising that power for the benefit of his people, it is impossable that anything should prevent the accomplishment of his gracious designs. Earth and hell may combine against them — the Avorld may bring all its terrors and all its allurements to bear upon their minds — apostate spirits may muster in strong and in terrible array, and assail them with all their fiery darts; but still, amid all that tends to seduce, and all that tends to appal them, their song for evermore shall be: "Who shall separate us from the love of Cliiist? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these things we are more than con- querors through llim that loved us. For we are persuaded tliat neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any creature, shall be able to sepa- rate us from tlie love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 5th, We would only further remark, that the passage suggests evidence in support of the divinity of Christ. — It is impossible that " all jiower" should be communicated to the highest created intelligence, or that it should be skil- fully exerted by him. None but Deity could sustain or wield the power with which our Sa- viour is invested. He on whose shoulder the government is laid must be " Wonderful, Coun- sellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace." Besides, Chiist claims eternal pre-existence as his prerogative; and this can be affirmed only of God. He speaks of a glory which he had with the Father " before the world was;" which last expression is just a formula eqiiivalent to eterniti/. He who was before all thisigs, and by whom all things con- sist— he who is possessed of eternal, nnderived existence — he who was from everlasting " the brightness of the Fathei-'s glory, and the ex- press image of his person," now " in the like- ness of sinful flesh," utters the prayer to which our thoughts have been directed. What think you, then, O Christians, of 3'our High Priest ? Is he not worthy of your admi- ration and love ? Can you contemplate his unparalleled generosity in giving himself up for your sakes to the awful and mysterious agonies of that " hoiir" to which he so empha- tically alludes; can you view him in the act of offering up sujiplications to his Father, and in these supplications identifying your interests with his own, and identifying both with the glory of his God — proclaiming himself ready to bear all the unutterable sorrow which was ne- cessary to this result, that you might reap all the unutterable joy — without having your affec- tions awakened, and your veiy hearts melted within you ? This prayer was uttered on earth, but ho has carried the substance of it, in so far as yon are concerned, within the veil, where he is exalted above all the dark and threaten- ing clouds which lowered around his path while here; and in him who sits on hi.i Fatliei-'s right hand, clothed with your nature, and in whom you see concentrated so bright an as- semblage of glories, you behold your High Priest on his throne, still watching over your interests — still pleading your cause. The love which led him to the garden and the cross on your account, has not dissipated like " the morning cloud and the early dew." It still glows in his bosom as strongly as ever. And shall your love to him grow cold — shall your gratitude and admiration be diminished ? Will you give your afi'ections to that world, from the evil of wliicli he is even now praying you may be delivered ? Will you not much rather give yoiirselves up entirely to him who has done so much to draw you to himself? Will you not devote yourselves to his service? Will you not glory in avowing your connection witli him, and your allegiance to him, and put forth all THE MOVEMENT IN GERMANY. your enerjfies to extend the glories of his cross and the triumphs of liis Gospel ? Oh ! who can tell the blessedness of tliose who are enabled thus to act ? When their " hour" is come in which they must be '' no more in the world," they will be able to say with something of Christ's Spirit, and with something of his triumphant exulta- tion: " We have glorihed thee, O God, however imperfectly, on the earth; we have finished the work which thou gavest us to do." To their departing spirits the portals of immortality will be thrown wide open, and, having overcome, they will " take their seats v/ith Jesus on his throne, even as he also overcame, and is set down with the Father on his throne." Impenitent sinners should remember, that as this glory cannot be theirs if they remain as they are, God will be glorified in their eternal destruction. Think of the awful, the alarming alternative, and while yet your day of grace continues, and while the offers of mercy are still held out to your acceptance, " ki.ss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him." THE MOVEMENT IN GERMANY. JOHN RONGE AND THE GERMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. In a former Number of the Treasury, we gave some account of the remarkable movement which has re- cently taken place on the Continent, under the leadership of John Ronge, a Romish priest, who, fired with indignation at tlic imposition practised on his countrjTnen, by the exhibition of the pretended Holy Tunic at Treves, addressed a letter to his bishop, boklly denouncing the whole affair; and for doing so, was deposed and excommunicated. An extremely interesting and intelligent narrative of the whole proceedings having just been published, "■ we are enabled by it, and by uiformation which we have received from other sources, to lay before our readers some further particulars in connection with the movement. The excitement it occasioned is still very great, or rather apparently every day increasing. In a large number of the principal towns, congregations have been formed, and hi many other places tlie people are but waiting for the sanction of Govern- ment to abandon the Romish communion, and form congregations also. The uncertainty which prevails as to the course to be adopted by the State, m refe- rence to the new Church, seems to act as a consider- able hmdrance ; but hopes are entertained that free toleration will be granted. The King of Saxony has already declared that his subjects may follow the dictates of their own consciences in the matter, and join the new Church wthout fear, if they think it right to do so. The bishop and clergy of Leipsic waited upon him, and in the true spirit of Romish intolerance, attempted to enforce upon him the duty * John Ronge, the Holy Coat of Treves, and the New German Catholic Church.— Edinburgh : 1815. of putting down the new sect by the strong hand of power. The reply he made to them was as follows : — " I wonder much at the demand you have made ; and all the more, as you know that nineteen-twen- tieths of my sul)jects are Protestants, whose conduct of late to my Catholic fellow-citizens has greatly re- joiced my heart. You know, moreover, that 1 am king of a conMitiitional State, and, as such, have pro- mised and sworn to secure full religious freedom to my subjects, of ivhatever faith. I shall, then, place no obstruction in the way of what has taken jdace, but give events theh free course, because J vilL not, and dan' not, make any one swerve from that laith and worshij) from which alone he expects salvation. This is my Ihrnly-settled resolution." It is expected, that in Prussia a similar course will be followed. But it is othenvise in Austria, where, as we stated in our last. Popery has been suf- ficiently powerful to prevail upon the Government to issue proclamations declaring the formation of German - Catholic congregations contrary to, and punishable by, law. The movement is very evidently, in any view, one of immense importance. A breach in the ranks of Rome — ^wide already, and ev-ery day widening — thousands m all parts of the Continent, including many of her priests, abjuring her communion, and a spirit of inquiry excited even among those who still adhere to her — these are cir- cumstances full of promise, and from which we do not wonder that much is expected. At the same time, everything depends on the direction which is given to the movement. If, while the people's minds — dehvered from the shackles of superstition — are thus excited and sthred, the free and full Gospel of Christ were proclaimed everywhere, how blessed would be the results ! The Continent might be won fur Jesus. But if it be otherwise — if the Gospel, not understood by the leaders, be not proclaimed to the people, and if both settle down without a knowledge or a thought of the alone way of salvation — then how miserable will be the end ! — how dark the day after such a morning of promise ! A heavy responsibihty lies upon the Evangelical Churches of Britain in this eventful matter; for we are not without our fears that Ronge hunself is, as yet, a stranger to the truth as it is in Jesus. AVe have read his vindication — his letter to the inferior clergy — his confession of faith, and extracts from the sermon which he preached after his induction at Breslau, and cannot conceal from ourselves the fact, that in them all the (xospel of Clmst is not to be found. Nor will this be wondered at, if we consider that he has Uved all his days in a locality where the principal sway is divided between Popery on the one liand, and Ra- tionahsm on the other. But how awful will be the blunder — how great the sin — if the Churches of Bri- tain stand idly by, uistead of doing what in them Ues to give the movement an Evangelical direction ! ''A German Presbyterian" has addressed to us a letter, which will appear in our next Number, and in which he proposes that a deputation should be sent to Germany from the Churches here, who might declare to lionge and his brethren the whole truth, and urge them to take their stand, as Luther did, on a pure Gospel basis. Most assuredly, some such step THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ought instantly to be taken ; and, if taken, who knows how abundantly the Lord might bless it ? Every week's delay will but make the task more difficult. It would be well if Protestants were, in this matter, to take a lesson from the enemy. While Protes- tantism speaks, Popery acts; and while words are as nothing, deeds jirove to be everything. Let, then, every influence be brought to bear on this signally important movement, while it is so fitted to receive the truth's impression. Popery has not yet recovered from its astonishment; but it will soon be on the field with all its resources, directed by all its craft, towards the recovery of the ground it has lost. And if she has the field to herself, unopposed by an army with the Gospel banner, it is not difficult to foretell the issue. The following extracts from the pamphlets above referred to, will be read with interest :— THE HOLY COAT. " The relic itself was placed near the altar in a gold frame, with a glass front at a considerable dis- tance from it; its shape resembhng a French blouse — the colour somewhat brown — though the poor peasantry were taught to believe that to every eye it presented a combination of colours entirely distinct. An opening was made on each side of the frame, to allow the hand to come in contact with the relic; and whatever did touch it, was believed to acquire a peculiar sanctity. A deep basin was placed in front, to receive the offerings of the pilgrims, which were to be given to the cathedrals at Treves and Cologne, and to a Catholic seminary in the former city." PRETENDED MIRACLES. " We now proceed to notice the inseparable ad- juncts of such proceedings — the miracles which are said to have been effected. To a Protestant, who has not spent some time in a Catholic country, it must seem in the highest degree strange to hear of solemn statements, by opposite newspapers in sup- port of, or in opposition to, certain pretended miracles; nay, not only so, but to have counter- medical certificates pitted against each other on the issue. Yet all this has lately been done. It would be worse than useless to recite the floating stories which one hears in the neighbourhood, about Protes- tant clergymen dying suddenly in the full possession of health, for having denounced the whole thing as a piece of imposture to a body of passing pilgrims, or of the many miraculous cures of sight, lameness, and the like. Yet, that all this is fact, any intelKgent and inquiring tourist of the Rhine can testify. One case, in particular, created great interest — that of the Coimtess Droste - Vischering, a relation of the Arch- bishop of Cologne, who has been for many years unable to walk without the use of crutches, but who, after beholding the Holy Coat, was enabled, to the wonderment of all, to walk home unassisted ! The plain truth comes out from her medical adviser — that she had been long suffering from a diseased knee- joint, that she resolved at all hazards to go to Treves, and that, while in a fit of ecstasy before the relic, she had excited a degree of energy, in stretching or bending the diseased limb, which had given the temporary relief, by relaxing the long rigid muscles. Since this period she has had relapses, and is, we be- lieve, now using the crutches, which had been too hastily hung up in the cathedral as a thank-offering for her marvellous restoration. Yet this simple story is paraded about and magnified into a miracle, to give still greater eclat to the Holy Coat and the Church ceremonies connected with it. It would be useless to enter into other details, whsn all are equally barefaced. The above case may be selected as a rather better than average specimen of the Popish miracles of the Contiiaent." THE TWENTY OTHER HOLY COATS. " In addition to the discussions which have appeared in the pubhc prints, a vast mass of pamphlets has been issued on both sides. The most remarkable of these is one issued by two professors in Bonn, Gil- dermeister and Sybel (the latter a Catholic), entering into a grave and learned historical inquiry as to the genuineness of the relic, exposing in the most trium- phant manner the various defences which have ap- ])eared on the Catholic side, and all characterized by the most severe sarcasm, in holding up the trumpery of the system of relic- worship to contempt. The title of the book is, " The Holy Coat of Treves, and the Twenty other Holy Coats." A second edition ivas soon called for, in which four other such relics were stated as discovered. It is generally knovni, that among these numerous claimants for genuineness, the great body of the French clergy have bid hard to ])rove that the coat of Argenteuil is the genuine one; and this view has been warmly defended by one of the Catholic clergy of Einsiedeln in Swit- zerland— notoriously one of the most celebrated places of pilgrimage in the world. More than this, -nTitings have appeared stating the events connected with the other relics of the same name, and treasured with equal sanctity in numerous cathe- drals; also giving an account of the separate and in- dependent series of miracles wrought by each as the true coat of the Lord. It would be tedious to detain the reader with more of such details. We desire merely to notice the various workings of the move- ment in and out of the Catholic Church. It may accordmgly suffice to state, in addition, that poetry as well as prose has been called into requisition, and that satirical ballads and lyrics have been numerously circulated, and eagerly read by all parties. Many of them are filled with the most stinging remarks on the general position and moral character of the clergy." WHAT THE PAPISTS ARE DOING. " Since the events that have taken place, Bishop Arnoldi has been honoured with torch processions in Cologne and Bonn and Coblentz, and has been burned in effigy by the students in Jena. So far from wsh- ing to undo what has been done, he has instituted an annual Church festival, to be called the Festival of the Holy Coat, the Nails, and the Lance, and to be held on the Wednesday in the third week after Easter. Nay, not only so, but it has been actually reported that he has resolved to establish another pilgrimage in honour of the Holy Nail, which Prince Metternich has, after solemn conference and nego- tiation, promised to the Cathedral of Treves. The bishop has lately given a proof of his tyranny as well as his superstition, in suspending one of the clergy of his diocese, by name Licht, who had dared to doubt, and to express his doubts to his people. He had been promised to be reinstated on retracting his ob- noxious opinions about the Coat, but has preferred degradation to dishonour. Our clergy, says one account, appear to lose in prudence exactly as the Separatists increase. Thus, so far from the more extreme section of them expressing themselves with greater caution than formerly, some of them are de- clared to have taught openly since the event, that not only was this the bona file coat of our Lord, but that it was the o/il// coat %chich he ever wore, and that it grew with the growth of his body from the cradle to the cross ! To counteract the influence of tho THE REFORMATION VIEWED AS THE RESURRECTION, &c. 89 movement now in progress, Bishop Amoldi, in con- junction with the Bisliop of Cologne, has instituted a new Cathohc society for the Uhine provinces, the object of which is — by a monthly journal, by tlie cir- culation of sermons and tracts, by the publication of standard Catholic works at a cheap rate, by the found- ing of a new C'atholic library and the like — to diffuse a spirit of stronger Catholicity through this section of the Church. A member of the Theologici'.I .Semi- nary is already named as its president, and collections are ordered to be made on a general scale in all the parishes, and specially by calls made at each indivi- dual house. In addition, five new journals of the same stamp have been established." SABBATHS. Bright shadows of true rest ! some shoots of bliss ! Heaven once arweek; The next world's gladness prepossessed in this ; A day to seek Eternity in time ; the steps by which AVe climb above all ages; lamps that light Man through his heap of dark days; and the ricli And full redemption of the whole week's flight. The pulleys unto headlong man; time's bower; The narrow way ; Transplanted paradase ; God's walking hour ; The cool o' the daj' ; The creature's jubilee ; God's parle with dust ; Heaven here ; man on those hiUsof myrrli, of liowers ; Angels descending; tlie returns of trust; A gleam of glory after six days' showers ; The Church's love- feasts; time's prerogative And interest Deducted from the whole ; the combs and hive, And home of rest ; The milky-way chalked out with suns; a clue That guides through erring hours, and in full story; A taste of heaven on earth ; the pledge and cue Of a full feast, and the out-courts of glory. Vaughan (16.05). THE REFORMATION VIEWED AS TUB RESURRECTION OF SCRIPTURAL TRUTHS. BY THE REV. THOMAS M'CRIE. The first doctrino revived by the Reformation, was that which occupies tlie first place in Scrip- ture— the doctrine of salvation by (jrace. This doctrines had lieconic grievously corrupted botli by the theolouy of the schools and by the super- stitions of the priesthood. " What knowledge other persons insiy have derived froni tlie scho- lastic divinity of the times," says Luther, " it is for them to consider. In regard to myself, I atn sure I learned from it nothing of the real nature of sin, of righteousness, of baptism, or of the whole Christian life; nor anything of the excellency of God or liis worlts, his grace, his justice. Faith, hope, charity, were to me words without meaning. In short, I not only learned notliing right, but I had to uxlearn everything wliicli I had ac(|uired in that way. In the schools I lost J esus Christ, I have now found him in Paul." Tlie manner in which the Reformer discovered the great leading truth of the Gospel is so well described by himself, and throws so much lighten tlie whole sul)ject, that we may give it in his own Avords : — " However blameless a life I might lead as a monk, I experienced a most lUKjuiet conscience; I perceived myself a sinner before God. I saw that I could do nothing to appease him; and I hated the idea of a just God that punislies sin- ners. I was well versed in all Paul's writings; and in particular, I had a most wonderful desire to understand the Epistle to the Romans. But I was jmzzled with the expression, ' Therein is the righteousness of God revealed.' My heart rose almost against God with a silent sort of blas- phemy. At least in secret I said, witli great miirniurand indignation. Was it not enough that wretched man, already eternally ruined by the curse of original depravity, should be oppressed with every misery througli the condemning power of the law, but that even through the Gospel God should threaten lis with his wrath and righteousness, and thereby add to our af- iiiction ? Tluis I raged witli a troubled con- science. At length, when I was meditating day and niglit ou the words, and their connec- tion with what immediately follows, viz., ' The just shall live by faith,' it pleased God to have pity ou me,' to open mine eyes, and show me that the rhjhteousiiess of God, which is here said in the Gospel to be revealed from faith to faith, relates to the method by which God, in his mercy, justifies a sinner through faith, agree- ably to what is written, ' Tlie just shall live by faith.' Thenceforth I felt myself a new man, and all the Scrii^tures appeared to have a new face. The expression ' rljhteousiiess of God' now became as sweet to my mind as it had been hateful before; and this very passage of Paul proved to me the entrance into paradise."* Here, then, was the revival of the primitive doctrine of Christianity — the essence of the whole Gospel — which was comprised in the answer given to tlie Philippian jailer, when he asked the apostles, " Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Tlie answer was short, and the doctrine simple; but both as preached by the apostles and as revived by Luther, it implied mucli. It implied that man is by nature a condemned criminal ; tliat he can do nothing of himself to eft'ect his deliver- ance; that Christ, by his death, rendered a full satisfaction to divine justice, and obtained eter- nal redemption for all them that obey him ; that faith is the only means of being interested in that redemption ; that all are invited and warranted to believe on Christ for salvation; and that whosoever shall believe is justified, has peace with God, has access into grace, and rejoices in hope of glory. All this, and much more, is necessarily involved in the doctrine of free justification by faith; and all this must » Milner, iv. 397, 898. 90 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. have been taught by the Reformers when they taught that doctrine. There are two leniarks here, however, which we would submit to consideration, as show- ing the advantages of Luther's position. In the first place, though the doctrine of the Gos- pel he preached, viewed in all its bearings and relations, is a most extensive one, yet it is at the sametime distinguished by great simplicity and point. All tlie doctrines connected with it converge, as it were, to a single point, and bear upon that, so as to enforce and give it effect— like the two-edged sword, to which it is compared, the firm and compact body of which is tapered and tempered to a siugle point, Avith which it does all its execution. In this respect Luther had an immeasurable ad- vantage over his opponents. The doctrines of Popery are just the I'everse. They are com- plicated and contradictory. Popery cannot return a simple answer, such as that of Paul to the Philippian jailer. With so many mediators, works of merit, and penances and absolutions, the mind is distracted amidst a multiplicity of objects ; whereas all the doctrines of the Gos- pel meet in one centre — look and lead to one point — and that is Christ. " I determined," says an apostle, " to know nothing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." This simple view of the matter was unfolded in the writings, and enforced in the sermons, of the Reformation. " How is one to become pious 1 " asked Luther. " A cordeliar friar will answer, Put on a grey cowl, and gird yourself with a cord like mine; a Roman monk will rejily, Hear mass and fast ; but a Christian will say, Faith in Jesus Christ alone justifies and saves. Before we can have Avorks, we nmst first have eternal life; and when we are born anew, and made children of God by the Word of grace, then come the good works." In the next place, in the writings of Paul the Reformers found weapons ready made, and admirably fitted for supporting this cardinal truth. The arguments and errors of Popish writers bore a striking resemblance to those of the Judaizing teachers in the days of Paul, which he answers so triumphantly in his Epistles to the Romans and Galatians. Luther, there- fore, had no difficulty in refuting his adver- saries. He found himself opposed to the same heresies, under a diff"erent name, which Paul had already refuted; and he had only to dis- charge the artillery which that valiant soldier of Christ had prepared to his hand. Hence the delight which he took in these Epistles, particularly in that to the Galatians, on which he published an excellent commentary, and of which he was heard to say, shortly after his marriage, in the naive and nervous language which he used in his moments of enthusiasm : " The Epistle to the Galatians is my Epistle; I have married it ; it is my Catherine de Borra !" Having once inserted the wedge of this hea- venly doctrine, Luther "s success was certain. " The Church had fallen," says one who should be read by all, " because the doctrine of faith in the Saviom- had been taken away from it. That it should rise again, it was necessary that this doctrine should be restored to it." * In fact, after the establishment of this primary truth, it was not necessary, to the demolition of the Papal superstitions, that they should be formally assaulted in detail. For examj^le, to overturn the idolatrous worship of images and saints in that Church, it was not necessary to enter into argument with them as to the sin- fulness of idolatry, or to meet the subtle dis- tinctions made by the Romish doctors as to their worship of douleia, and worsliip of latreia, by which they attemjited to justify the prac- tice. The simple doctrine, " There is one God, and one Mediator between God and man," cut at the root of all such reasonings ; for as wor- ship was given to the saints only on the suppo- sition that their merits and intercessions availed us, the discovery that there is only one sacrifice which can take away sin, and the all-sufficiency of that sacrifice, showed at once the absurdity of all other mediators and sacrifices. Men threw their idols to the moles and the bats, saying. What have we any more to do with them ? Even in point of argument this was enough; but let it be remembered, that this was not merely the result of cold reasoning with those who had cordially embraced the leading doc- trine of the Reformation. It was matter of living faith and solid experience. They had felt in their hearts the peace that flows from faith in the cross of Christ; and in the strength of it they were prepared to break through a whole troop of scholastic subtleties and monk- ish superstitions, and to overleap every wall that stood in their Avay. This was more especially remarkable in the case of those who suff^ered martyrdom for their faith. Among these were some distinguished neither for learning nor in- formation— mere babes in jioint of common knowledge; but possessing the simple know- ledge of saving truth. Their persecutors, pro- voked at what they termed their obstinacy, often attempted to confute and confound them, by entering into controversy with them. But the martyrologies of various countries bear wit- ness to the complete success Avith Avhich these sufierers maintained their point, and turned the tables on their accusers. As an illustration, Ave may select an example or two from the con- fessors and martyrs of our oavu countiy. Cathe- rine Hamilton, an amiable lady of rank, was the sister of Patrick Hamilton, the first Protestant martyr in Scotland. After his death, Cathe- rine AA'as also accused of heresy, and summoned to appear before the king and his bishops. Being questioned upon good Avorks, she boldly replied, that, according to Scripture, no man could be saved. by his Avorks. " But," said one of the friars, " there ai-e different kinds of Avorks ; * History of the Reformation, by Merle d'Aubign6. A BRAND PLUCKED OUT OF THE FIRE. 91 tJiore are works de conijruo, and ■works de con- diyno ;" and lie was beginning to explain the dis- tinction, when Catherine interrnj)ted him with great spirit : " Work here, work there — what kind of working is all this ? No works can save nie bnt Christ's." The king was so amused M'ith the spirited answer of the young lady, and the blank look of her accuser, that he could not refrain from laughter, and afterwards contrived to convey her away secretly out of their hands. Walter Mill, an aged man, who had once been a priest, is well known as the last martyr that suffered under I'ojjcry in Scotland. Being asked if there were not seven sacraments, ho answered : " Let me have two, and take the rest to yourselves." lie was ([uestioned about the mass. " Christ," said he, " hath put an end to all carnal sacrifices by offeiing, once for all, his body upon the cross." They desired him to re- cant. " No," said ho, " I am corn, not chaff. I will neither be blown with the wind nor bruised by the Hail, but I Mill abide both; I will not recant the truth." They tied him to the stake; and while the fire was kindling, he said : " I am a great sinner ; yet it is for God's truth contained in his Word that I suffer. Dear friends," he cried out of the flames, " as you would escape eternal death, be no more seduced with lies of jjriests, monks, and friars, and the rest of the Antichristian crew; but trust only in God." Nor can we omit the testi- mony of an English martyr, John Lambert, who, after having withstood the taimts and tempta- tions of his persecutors, was i- South. A Day of Reckoning. — Men may cheer them- selves in the morning, and they may pass on tolerably well, perhaps, without God iit noon ; but the cool of the day is coming, when God will come down to talk with them. — Cecil. " Boast not Thyself of To-morrow." — At a Christmas party one observed, that if they should ever meet agam, sometliing was to be done. Another ex- claimed : " //' we shall meet ! — we irill meet ;" but he was the only occ who died in the interval ! PoPEUY Refuted by Common Sense. — Some of the Irisli are so far enlightened by Sunday scliools and Bible societiee, that they can exercise their reason in resisting the abominations of Popery. One of them being lately asked by Iris priest, a curate, wiiy he did not come to confession, said to him, '• Please your reverence do //(>« ever confess ? " " Yes, I do, to the rector." — " \\\A do you jiay ? " " Yes." — " And to whom docs the rector confess ? " " To the bisho])." — " And does he pay him ?" " Yes." — "And to whom does the bishop confess?" "To the vicar-general." — "And pays him?" "Yes." — " And to whom does he confess?" " To the Pope." — " And pays ? " '• Yes." — " And to whom does the Pope confess?" "To Jesus Christ." — "And does he pay anything ? " " No." " Then jilease )'om' reverence," said the man, "as I am very poor, I think I shall go to Christ at once." 96 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. FRIDAY. " Prepare to meet thy God." — Amos iv. 12, Lord, prepare us by thy grace ! Soon we must resign our breath. And our souls bo call'd to pass Through the iron gate of Death : Let us now our day improve, Listen to the Gospel voice ; Seek the things that are above. Scorn the world's pretended joys. Let not salvation be your by-work, or your holi- day's task only, or a work by tlie way ; for men tliink that this may be done in three days' space on a feather-bed, when Death and they are fallen in hands together, and that with a word or two they shall make their soul-matters right. O when will men learn to be that heavenly irise as to divorce from, and free their souls of, all idol lovers, and make Christ the only, only One, and trim and make ready their lamps while theyhave time and day ! How soon will some few years pass away, and then, ivheu the day is ended, and this life's lease expu-ed, what have men of this world's glory but di-eams and thoughts ! O happy for evermore that soul who can rightly compare this life with that long lasting life to come, and can balance the weighty glory of the one with the light-golden vanity of the other ! — Rutherford. SATURDAY. " Take up your cross, and follow me." — Matt. xvi. 23. Who suffer with our Master here, "We shall before his face appear, And by his side sit down : To patient faith the prize is sure ; And all that to the end endure The cross, shall wear the crown. " I know," says one, " no man hath a velvet cross, but the cross is made of what God will have it ; yet I dare not say, Oh, that I had liberty to sell Christ's cross ! lest therewith also I should sell joy, comfort, sense of love, patience, and the kind visits of a Bride- groom. I have but small experience of sufferings for Christ; but I find a young heaven, and a little jiara- dise of glorious comforts, and soul-delighting visits of Christ, in suffering for him and his truth. My prison is my palace — my sorrow is full of joy — my losses are rich losses — my pain easy pain — my heavy days are holy days and happy days. I may tell a new tale of Christ to my friends. Grace tried is better than grace, and more than grace. It is glory in its infancy. Who knows the truth of grace without a trial ? And how soon would faith freeze without a cross ! Bear your cross, therefore, mth joy." — Flavel. SABBATH. " Blessed is the man that keejjeth the .Sabbath." — IsA. Ivi. 2. Great God, this hallowed day of thine Demands our souls' collected powers ; May we emi)loy in works divine These solemn and devoted hours ; O may onr souls adoring, own The grace which calls us to thy throne ! In breaking the Sabbath, we sin not only against God, but we do uijury to man ; for God not only hal- lowed the Sabbath-day, but he blessed it. It was made for man, and in vain shall we expect to see a world or a nation of happy Sabbath-breakers. MO.NDAY. _ " They, going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God."— Rom. x. 3. Man's wisdom is to seek His strength in God alone ; And even an angel would be weak Who trusted in his own. We shall soon be in a world of spirits : not hearing of eternity, but in it ; not thinking of a judgment- seat, but trembling before it ; not saying. Is there a. God ? but seeing him ; not musing about heaven or hell, but standing on theu' borders, within a step of their pains or joys, ivith only a moment between us and an everlasting home. No self-righteous hope can stand in such an hour as this. It may have rooted itself very deeply in the mind ; we may have carried it about with us all our life long; it may have stood firm against many a sermon, many a providence ; it may have triumphed over the plamest declarations of the Bible, and borne unmoved the shock of death ; but take it into eternity — bring it among the realities of that unseen world — say where is it ? It is gone- one moment has turned it into immovable despair. — Bradleij. TUESDAY. " Keep thy heart with all diligence." — Prov. iv. 24, In spite of unbelief and pride, And self, and Satan's art. The gates of brass fly open wide, And Jesus wins the heart. The rebel soul that once withstood The Saviour's kindest call. Rejoices now, by grace subdued. To serve him with her all. The heart of man is his worst part before it be re- generated, and the best afterwards ; it is the seat of principles, and the fountain of actions. The eye of God is, and the eye of the Christian ought to be, principally fixed upon it. — Flavel. WEDNESDAY'. " Commit thy way unto the Lord." — Ps. xxxvii. 5. Then let us trust the Lord alone, And creature- confidence disown : Nor if man threaten need we fear. They cannot hurt if he be near. What an oppressive burden is taken off a Chris- tian's shoulders, by his privilege of leaving all con- sequences, while in the path of duty, to God ! He has d> ne with " How shall I bear wth this trouble ! " ■ — " How shall I remove this difficulty ! " — " How shall I get through this deep water ! " — but leaves himself in the hands of God. — Cecil. THURSDAY. " We are members of his body." — Eph. v. 30. Fill me with all the life of love ; In mystic union join Me to thyself, and let me prove The fellowship divine. Open the intercourse between My longing soul and thee, Never to he broke off again To all eternity. O labour for this union; when the soul is once united to Him, then it hath communion with him — in his life, in his death, in his resurrection, in his in- tercession, in his graces, and comforts, and aU. — Nalton. *** A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 'M. each Number. Edinburgh : Printed by .Iohn Johnstone, residing at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. Gkoombridge .% Sons. Glasgow: J. R. M'Naiii & Co.; and to be had of any Bookseller throughout the Kingdom. _ _ THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 97 JACOB WRESTLING WITH THE AXGEL. BY THE REV. ALEXANDER BEITII, STIRLING. Jacob had been absent from his country and his father's liouse for twenty years. Consciousness of havini^ injured his brother, and a knowledf^e of Esau's resolution to aveiic^o liimself, liad banisiied him. He was now on his return by the command of God, but he had no re;uson to believe tliat any change liad taken plaet^ in his brother's sentiments towards him. When iie heard, therefore, that Esau was coming to meet him " with four hundred men," he was " greatly afraid and distressed." It wa^i an exigency which demanded prompt measures— at least he felt so in an extreme degree. Every prepara- tion and arrangement, accordingly, which wis- dom and his natural sagacity could suggest was made, to apiiease his brother's wrath and to dis- arm his hostility, the safety of his family and flocks being provided for as he best could in the cii'cnmstances. A munificent present of cattle was prepared for Esau, divided into many droves, and words expressive of deep submission to him were jjut into the mouths of the respective ser- vants to whose chai'ge they were committed. The peojjle and tlie flocks, whic'i then con- stituted his all, w(>re divided into two bands, and separated from each other ; his calculation being, that if Esau met with and destroyed the one, the other shoidd escape. His wives and children were placed in shelter, apart from them, to await the issue. Ha\'ingdone all this, "Jacob was left alone." No doubt he sought retirement in his emer- gency, to I'enew the supplications to the God of his fatiiers, in which he had already been en- gaged ; for whatever the wisdom of the dispo- sitions which he had made for the safety of his family, his proi)erty,and his life, he knew that in God only his hope of deliverance rested. It was in these circumstances that the striking occurrence took place to which the title of this paper refers. " Jacob was left alone, and there wrestled a man with liini until the breaking of the day." By this the patriarch was taught impor- tant truth, without the conviction of which he was not to be ])ermitted to return to his home. This was done in a way not unusual under the dispensation with which he was con- nected. As the Ninevites were taught, by the miraculous events in the history of the prophet sent to them, truth which the words of Jonah did not exi)r('.s.s— for in these events he was a sign to them of the forbearance and mercy of God, whilst his message was one jiurely of denunciation; or, as the inhabitants of .feni- salem were instructed in solemn tiiith, which otherwise they would not hear, by Ezekiels cutting off his hair, and disposing of it in the .No. 9. various ways commanded him of God — this being a sign to them, as Jonah was to the Ninevites ; so was Jacob in the case before us instructed of tlie Lord. The wrestling of this man with him, and the circumstances attend- ing it, were a sign to him of God's dealings hitherto, in exposing him to such adverse dispensations as had attended his lot since he left his father's house ; and of the oppor- tunity which, nevertheless, God gave him, through pleading with himself, to prevail over these, to be delivered from deserved evil, and to receive the blessing. In Jacob's case the instruction certainly was not cast away. He was taught successfully; for we read that he " wept and made supplications unto the angel," and thus, " as a prince, he had power with God and prevailed." " I will not let thee go," he said, "except thou bless me;" and he was blessed. Two things are to be observed of the patriarch on this occasion — first, His evident persuasion that tlie deliverance and blessing which he sought might bo obtained; and, secondly. His perseverance until he secured it. 1. In reflecting on the believing confidence of Jacob in his present circumstances of trial, we naturally inquire on wliat it could be founded. It certainly could not be on anything in his pro- spects. These were sufficiently dark. His brother's character, his hatred of hhn, his j)ower, his reported approach with a body of armed followers, his own utterly defenceless condition, cundK-red with women and children and all his worldly property, made his hope of safety or escape, to the eye of sense, small indeed. No wonder that, in this view of the matter, he was "greatly afraid and distressed." Yet he did hope — he did cherish a persuasion that out of his trouble God should deliver hira ; of which the proof is his earnest wrestling with him. Whereon, then, did this rest ? It cannot be diflicidt to answer the question, if we consider the nature of his previous sup- l)lication and pleading. There we find distinct allusion to the coniuiiU, in which he knew he himself was included, and also to the promise which God had given him. " O God of my father Abraham," said he, " and God of my father Isaac, the Lord which saidst unto me, Return unto thy country, and to thy kindred, and I will deal well with thee. — And tiiou saidst, I will surely do thee good, and make thy seed as the sand of the sea, which cannot be num- bered for multitude." Looking to his position, as the son of Abraham and Isaac, in whose seed, {IS in theirs, " all the families of the earth were to be blessed;" aud resting, at the same- yl/triim, 1845. 98 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. time, on the assurance of security and blessing specially given to him, he pled for deliverance — wept and made supplication — and thus en- joyed, through faith, a blessed persuasion that the cloud now resting on his prospects should pass, the danger that threatened be averted, and his brother prevented from doing him evil. His faith might be weak, and in that proportion his trouble must have been great. Like Peter walking on the sea, his eye might be attracted by the brooding tempest, and be so hindered from looking steadily to the end; and thus his distress and alarm must have been magnified. But faith, nevertheless, did exist; and whilst he contemplated both the purpose and jvomise of God, it upheld him in |the time of his sore con- flict. God's purposes of grace and mercy are de- clared to us by his promises. They are knoAvn in no other way. But, being thus revealed, both purpose and promise constitute together a sure ground of holy confidence and comfort. If the promises be the leafy shadow in the gar- den of the Lord, under which his peoiile sit with great delight, his purposes are the roots from which that shadow grows. If the pro- mises be the lights by which we travel through this dark world, the purposes are the oil by which the lamps are supplied, so that they never can go out in darkness. If the promises be the anchor by which our hopes hang in troublous times, the pui^joses are the soil in which that anchor is securely fixed. If the promises be the river which makes glad the city of our God, the purposes are the inexhaustible fountain which supplies and swells that blessed stream ! On the purpose and promise of God Jacob re- posed. Therefore he held the angel fast, and would not let him go, hoping against hope, and earnestly waiting for deliverance from the hand of Esau. Why should there not be humble confidence in pleading with God? Why should we not come boldly to his throne of grace? Surely he hath himself made every provision and prepara- tion for this. He that can be just, and at the sametime the justifier of sinners, can also be just, and lend his ear to their cry. Is there not encouragement, in the whole revelation of mercy through Christ, to lay hold on his strength and to \\Testle Avith him ? In that have we not assurance that such an exercise shall not be in vain ? Where sin abounded, grace hath much more aboiinded. The fire-charged clouds, which gleamed in terroi on the world when sin entered, and no Saviour was yet declared, are rolled back — driven far off; their ominous volume reduced to the minutest fleece, as they float in the dis- tant horizon ; and a way is thus opened for the God of salvation to come do%\ni, to gather from the world many sons and daughters into glory. Those clouds are, indeed, again to return; but it will be to destroy them only who refuse to know God, and to obey the Gospel of his Son. Meantime there is a day of salvation — a pro- mise of entering into his rest — an accepted time — opportunity to make our calling and election sure — to work out our salvation — in one word, to wrestle with the Angel of the Covenant, and to obtain the blessing of Jacob. That it is no hopeless thing to wrestle with God we are assured, not only on the ground of the redemption provided in Christ, but also from the character in which God manifests himself to us. It is in that of a tender parent. A " father" he is to his people ; and how many hallowed and encouraging associatior.s are there connected with that name ! But he is more even than a father. " Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb ? — Yea, they may forget" — instances unnatural and horrifying there have been of such a kind, under temptations that ap- peared irresistible—" yet will I not forget thee." The love of a " father" it is, nay, of a mother — of the tenderest mother. And to which of her off'spring ? Not to those whom time and age have made independent of her — who now no longer need her watchful care or toilsome in- dustry ; but to the most helpless — the babe which perhaps disease or misfortune has made more helpless than even its infancy — to that one of all her family over which her heart yearns; for it clings to her as its life ! Ah ! yes, that is the bond which attracts her, and entwines all her heart's strings around it. We cannot but cherish those who confide in us — the helpless that make us their stay. Even the dumb animal that flees to you for protection, that lays its head at your feet, and looks to you for kindness, you cannot spurn from you! And can it be hopeless to cast your burden on God ? No, verily. They that trust in him he will deliver ! To how many facts can we appeal in proof of this? It was no hopeless thing to pray even for Sodom. In that case, it has often been ob- served, Abraham ceased to ask ere God ceased to grant; and though the Cities of the Plain were destroyed, the kinsman of the patriarch was saved. It was no hopeless thing to cry to God from the very depths of the sea, even when " the earth with her bars were round about " him that presented his supplication. It was no hopeless thing to ask the sun to " stand still,'' and the "moon to be stayed" in midst of the heavens, until the people of Israel had executed God's vengeance on his enemies. It was no hopeless thing to ask that the grave should give up its captives — that the noisomeness of death should be changed into the beauty of life — that they who had begun to prove that corruption was their father, the worm their mother and sister, should be restored to their place in the family circle, and enjoy its peace and its hospitalities ! And Avhat can it be hopeless to ask, if it be but consistent with the will of God? Is anything too hard for him ? If you have the promise, you are sure it is connected with the jnirpose. " Ask and ye shall receive" — notpei'haps as you expect REMINISCENCES OF WHITEFIELD. 99 and desire, but in a way better than you can ask or think. How precious to be permitted to wiestle with God ! 2. But let us mark Jacob's perseverance until lie obtained what ho sought. This forms a striking feature in his present conduct and position with respect to God. He sought the blessing that he might be safe from Esau; for his brother was, at this time, his trial; and, confiding in the promise of the covenant, it was evidently his resolution not to lose the oppor- tunity vouchsafed him — not to let the angel go until he had secured that on which his heart was set. God, we have seen, taught the patriarch what that opportunity was, by appearing to him in the form of a man that wrestled with him during the whole night. Jacob well knew, that for a wrestler to remit his exertion, even for a moment, might lose him the advantage of all his previous sti-uggle ; therefore he maintained his ground. lie knew, moreover, that even though cast, if he still held his antagonist, though rolling under him in the dust, he was not vanquished — that even when injured and enfeebled, if he but held fast, his antagonist could not be declared the conqueror; therefore he persisted in the conflict. It lasted long — a whole night ; yet Jacob held fast. The man that wrestled with him, " when he saw that he prevailed not against him, touched the hollow of his thigh; and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint as he wrestled with him;" yet he held him fast. "Let me go," he at length ex- claimed, "for the day breaketh;" as if he had said : " All well this during the darkness of the night; while under shelter of that shadow, thy flocks, and herds, and family, were secure from the eye of thy brother ; but now comes the day, bringing back its cares and its dan- gers. Time for thee it is to bethink thee of those cares — of those dangers. To wrestle longer is inconsistent with thy duty — is to expose thyself, and all that is thine, to the loss that thou dreadest; let me go, for the day breaketh." " I will not let thee go," said the exhausted, and lamed, but believing object of his address, " except thou bless me." " Come what will of floclcs, and herds, and family — let the day not only break, but its full light shine, God has taught what opportunity he gives me; of his strength I have hold, and that is all my salva^ tion and all my desire." How precious is the truth, that it is God's will we should "pray always, and not faint!" and that what he means by this is set forth in a parable which all may understand. Things will occur, we learn there, in the experience of every one whom he admits to the privilege of communion with him, calculated and intended to try their resolution, the strength of their desire for what they plead, and the stability of their jnirpose to secure it. God often seems to delay his coming when we cry for him — to refuse our petitions when we present them — to oppose and reslEt our will in what our hearts are set on — nay, he often seems to answer by " fearful works; " and when we expect blessing, he makes us to " drink of the wine of astonish- ment." How strange, apparently, the answer to Job's daily prayers for his family ! — to Daniel's faithfulness in this exercise when men would have wickedly forbidden it ! — to IMary and ]\Iar- tha's simple dependence on Christ, and the message which they sent him! — to the first deeply earnest pleadings of the woman of Ca- naan ! Had he any pleasure in the pain expe- rienced in all these instances 2 No, verily. But he delighted to see the exercise of the grace that he had himself implanted, and which, in the case of Jacob, found expression in the words; " I will not let thee go, except thou bless me;" and he knew how precious the blessing is made through the previous struggle, when it is at last received. But behold the end of Jacob's conflict. "What is thy name ?" asked he that wrestled M'ith him. " Jacob," was the simple answer — the supplanter — he that deceived his father and defrauded his brother — he whom God had therefore much resisted because of tliis, and upon whose mind there now rested a heavy load of anxiety and dread, through the con- duct that earned him that name. " Thy name," was the reply, " shall be called no more Jacob, but Israel" Thou hast sought a blessing, even deliverance from thy brother. " As a prince, thou hast had power with God and with men," in pleading for it, " and hast prevailed." In the character of supplanter thou art known no more, and the danger feared and deserved has passed away. Jacob soon met his brother. " And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him ; and they wept." Such was the fniit of his wrestling with the angel. How easily can God disperse the darkest cloud ! _ REMINISCENCES OF WHITEFIELD. The name of 'Whitclicld is known and honoured in all the Churches — his labours in the cause of Christ having been perhaps more extraordinary, and more blessed, than those of any Gospel minister since the apostolic times. The following reminiscences of his preacMng are given in the letters of Cornelius Whiter, who for some years acted as his private secretary : — Usually for an hour or two before he entered the pulpit, he claimed retirement; and on a Sabbath-day morning more particularly, he was accustomed to have Clarke's Bible, ^Matthew Henry's Commentary, and Cruden's Concordance within his reach. His frame at that time was more than ordinarily devo- tional ; I say more than ordinarily, because, though there was a vast vein of pleasantry usually in him, the intervals of conversation evidently appeared to be fdled up with private ejaculation connected with praise, llis rest was nnich interrupted, and his tlioughts were much engaged with Cioil in the night. Uc has often said at the close of his very warm ad- dress : " This Bermoa I got when most of you who 100 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. now hear me were fast asleep." He made very mi- nute observations, and was mucli disposed to be con- versant with life, froiu the lowest mechanic to the fii'st characters in the land. He let notliing escape him, but turned all into gold that admitted of im- provement ; and, in one way or another, the occur- rences of the week or the day fiu-nished him with matter for the pulpit. Take a specimen : When an extraordinary trial was going forwards, he would be present; and on observing the formality of the judge putting on his black esq) to pronounce sentence, I have known him avail himself of it in the close of a sermon; -with his eyes full of tears, and his heart almost too big to admit of speech, dropping mto a momentary pause, " I am going now to put on my condemning cap — simier, I must do it; I must pro- nounce sentence upon you" — and then, in a tremen- dous strain of eloquence, recite our Lord's words, " Go, ye cursed," not without a very powerful de- scription of the nature of the curse. It woukl be only by hearing him, and by beholding his attitude and his tears, that a person could well conceive of the effect ; for it was impossible but that solemnity must surround him who, under God, became the means of making all solemn. He had a most peculiar art of speaking personally to you, in a congregation of four thousand people, when no one would suspect his object. If I instance it in an effect upon the servant of the house, I pre- sume it is not unsuitable. She had been remiss in her duty in the morning of the day. In the evening, before the family retired to rest, I found her under great dejection, the reason of which I did not appre- hend; for it did not strike me that, in exemplifying a conduct inconsistent with the Christian's professed fidelity to his blessed Redeemer, he was di-aiving it from remissness of duty in a living character; but she felt it so sensibly as to lie greatly distressed by it, until he relieved her mind by his usually amiable de- portment. The next day, being about to leave to'wn, when I shut the coach-door upon him, he said, " Be sure to remember me to Betty ; tell her the account is settled, and that I have nothing more against her." The famous comedian, Shuter, who had a great partiality for Mr Whitefield, showed him friendship, and often attended his ministry. At one period of his popularity he was acting in a drama imder the character of Ramble. During the rvm of the perfor- mance he attended service on Sabbath morning at Tottenham Court Chapel, and was seated in the pew exactly opposite to the pulpit ; and while Mr White- field was giving full sally to his soul, and, in his ener- getic address, was inviting smners to the Saviour, he fixed himself full against Shuter, with his eye upon him, adding to what he had previously said : " And thou, poor Ramble, who hast long rambled from him, come you also. O end your rambling by coming to Jesus ! " Shuter was exceedingly struck, and coming in to Mr Whitefield, said : " I thought I shoidd have fainted ; how could you serve me so ? " — It was truly impressive to see him ascend the pulpit. My inti- mate knowledge of him admits of my acquitting him of the charge of affectation. He always appeared to enter the pulpit with a significance of countenance that indicated he had something of importance which he wanted to divulge, and was anxious for the efi'ect of the communication. His gravity on his descent was the same. He was averse to much singing after preaching, supposing it diverted the savour of the subject. Nothing awkward, nothing careless, ap- peared about him in the pulpit, nor do I ever recol- lect his stumbling upon a word. To his ordinary as well as to his public appearance, this observation apphes; whether he frowned or smiled, whether he looked grave or placid, it was nature acting in him. I hardly ever knew him to go through a sermon without \veephig, more or less; and his tears were the tears of sincerity. His voice was often interrupted by his affection ; and I have heard him say in the pulpit : *' You blame me for weepmg, but how can I help it, when you will not weep for yourselves, though your immortal souls are upon the verge of destruc- tion, and, for aught you know, you are hearing your last sermon, and may never more have an opjiortu- nity to have Christ offered to you ? " His freedom in the use of his passions often put my pride to the trial. I could hardty bear such unreserved use of tears, and the scope he gave to Ins feelings ; for some- times he exceedingly wept, stamped loudly and pas- sionately, and was frequently so overcome, that for a few seconds, you would suspect he never could re- cover ; and when he did, natm-e required some little time to compose herself. You may be sure, from what has been said, that when he treated upon the sufferings of our Saviour, it was not without great pathos. He was very ready at that kind of painting, which frequently answered the end of real scenery. As though Gethsemane were vyithin sight, he would say, stretchmg out his hand : " Look yonder ! what is that I see ? — it is my agonizing Lord ! " And, as though it were no difii- cult matter to catch the sound of the Saviour praying, he would exclaim : " Hark ! hark ! do not you hear? " You may suppose that as this occurred frequently, the efiicacy of it was destroyed ; but no ; though we often knew what was coming, it was as new to us as though we had never heard it before. That beautiful apostrophe used by the Prophet Jeremiah : " O earth, earth, earth, hear the Word of the Lord," was very subservient to him, and never used impertinently. He abounded with anecdotes, which, though not alwaj's recited verbatim, were very just as to the matter of them. One, for instance, I remember, tending to illustrate the efiicacy of prayer, though I have not been able to meet vrith it in the English history — it was the case of the London apprentices before Hem-y VIIL, pleading his pardon of their in- surrection. The monarch, moved by their sight and their plea — " Mercy ! mercy ! " — cried : " Take them away, I cannot bear it." The application you may suppose was, that if an earthly monarch of Henry's description could be so moved, how forcible is the sinner's plea in the ears of Jesus Christ ! The case of two Scotchmen, in the convulsion of the State at the time of Charles II., subserved his design; who, imavoidably obliged to pass some of the troops, were conceiving of their danger, and meditating what method was to be adopted to come ofi' safe : one pro- posed the wearing of a skull-cap; the other, sup- posing that would imply distrust of the providence of God, was determined to proceed bare-headed. The latter, being first laid hold of, and being inter- rogated, " Are you for the covenant ?" replied, " Yes;" and being further asked, " What covenant ?" answered, " The covenant of grace ; " by which reply, eluding further inquiry, he was let pass. The other, not answering satisfactorily, received a blow wth the sabre, which, penetratuig through the cap, struck him dead. In the application, Mr Whitefield, warn- ing against vain confidence, cried : " Beware of your skull-caps." But here likewise the description upon paper, wanting the reality as exemplified by him ■\vith voice and motion, conveys but a very faint idea. As though he heard the voice of God ever sound- ing in his ears the important admonition, " Work while it is called to-day," this was his work in Lon- don at one period of his life :— After administering the Lord's supper to several hundred communicants, at half an hour after six in the morning ; reading the first and second ser\-ice in the desk, which he did WORDS FOR A COMMUNION SEASON. 101 with the greatest propriety ; and preaching full an hour; he read prayers and preached in the afternoon, previous to the evening service, at half-an-hour after five; and afterwards addressed a large society in public. Perhaps Mr Whitefield never preached greater ser- mons than at six in the morning; for at that hour he did preach winter and summer, on Mondays, Tues- days, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. At these times his congregations were of the select description, and young men received admonitions similar with what were given in the society ; and were cautioned, while they neglected the duty required from them under the bond of an indenture, not to anticipate the plea- sures and advantages of future life. " Beware of being golden apprentices, silver journeymen, and copper masters," was one of the cautious I remember upon those occasions. His style was now colloquial, with little use of motion; pertinent expositions, with suitable remarks; and all comprehended mthin the hour. Christian experience principally made the subject of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesiiay, and Thursday evening lectures; when, frequently having funeral sermons to preach, the character and experience of the dead helped to elucidate the subject, led to press diligence in the Christian course, to reflect upon the blessing of faith on earth, and glory in heaven. Mr Whitefield adopted the custom of the inhabitants of New Eng- land in their best days, of beginning the Sabbath at six o'clock on Saturday evening. The custom could not be observed by many, but it was conve- nient to a few — a few compared with the multitude, but, abstractedly considered, a large and respectable company. Now ministers of every description found a peculiar pleasure in relaxing their muids from the fatigues of study, and were highly delighted by his peculiarly excellent subjects, which were so suitable to the auditory, that I believe it was seldom disap- pointed. It was an opportunity peculiarly suited to apprentices and journeymen in some businesses which allowed of their leaving work sooner than on other days, and availing themselves at least of the sermon ; from which 1 also occasionally obtained my blessings. The pecuUar talents he possessed, subservient to great usefulness, can be but faintly guessed from his ser- mons in print; though, as formerly God has made the reading of them useful, I have no doubt but in future they will have their use. The eighteen taken in short-hand, and faithfully transcribed by Mr Gur- ney, have been supposed to do discredit to his memory, and therefore they were suppressed. But they wlio have been accustomed to hear him, may collect from them much of his genuine preaching. They were far from being the best specimens that might have been produced. He preached many of them when, in fact, he was almost incapable of preaching at all. His constitution, long before they were taken, had received its material shock, and they were all, except the two last, the production of a Wednesday evening; when, by the current business of the day, he was fatigued and worn out. The " Good Shepherd " was sent him on board the ship. He was much disgusted with it, and expressed himself to me as in the 1440th letter of the third volume of his works : '• It is not verbatim as I delivered it. In some places it makes me speak false concord, and even nonsense ; in others the sense and connection are destroyed by the inju- dicious disjointed paragraphs, and the whole is en- tirely unfit for the ])ubUc review." His m;uiuscript journal, as quoted by Dr Gillies, notes " Septem- ber 15. This morning came a surreptitious copy of my Tabernacle farewell sermon, taken, as the short- hand writer professes, verbatim as I spoke it; but surely he is mistaken. The whole is so injudiciously paragraphed, aud so wretchedly uucouuected, that I owe no thanks to the misguided, though it may be well-meant, zeal of the writer and publisher, be they whom they will. But such conduct is an unavoid- able tax upon popularity." WORDS FOR A COMMUNION SEASON. SELF-EXAMINATION. To examine ourselves is to put serious questions to ourselves, and to our own hearts ; and to prosecute them till a full and true answer be given to them. These five questions, among others, it is good for each of us to put to ourselves in our preparation to the Lord's supper, both at our first admission, and in our after-approaches to it : — What am I ? What have I done? What progress do I make? What do I want ? And what shall I resolve to do ? 1. What am I ? Am I m the favour of God, or under his i\Tath and curse ? Am I a servant of God, or a slave to the world and the fieeh ? Look forwards, and ask. Whither am I going ? — to heaven or hell ? If I should die this night (and I am not sure to live till to-morrow), whither would death bring me ? where would death lodge me ? — in end- less light, or in utter darkness ? 2. What have I done ? How have I employed my thoughts ? How have I governed my passions ? How have I used my tongue ? How have I spent my time ? How have I managed my worldly calling ? How have I done the duty of particular relations ? How have I performed my secret worship ? How have I laid out what God has given me in the world ? How have I improved the Lord's-day, and the other helps I have had for my soul ? How have I borne my afflictions ? 3. What progi'ess do I make ? Do I find my practical judgment more settled and confirmed in its choice of holiness and lieaven ? Do I find my cor- rupt appetites and passions more manageable ? Do I find the duties of religion more easy and pleasant to me ? Do I find my heart more weaned from this present life, and more wiling to exchange it for a better ? 4. What do I want ? What grace do I most want ? What comfort do I most want ? What is the bur- den that lies most heavy ? 5. What shall I resolve to do ? It is good to be particular in our pious resolutions, as well as in our penitent reflections; and for assistance herein, let us inquire : Wherein have I been most exposed by my own weakness, and most assaulted by the subtlety of the tempter ? What is the sin that has most easily beset me ? What the duty that I have most neglect- ed ? And what can I do in my place for the service of God's honour and the interest of his kingdom among men ? COMFOIIT FOR WEAK BELIEVEKS. 1. Judge not amiss concennng yourselves. As it is a d;unuing mistake couuuon among the children of men, to think their spirituid state and condition to be good, when it is very bad — for " there is tliat maketh himself rich, and yet hath nothing;" so it is a dis- quieting mistake, common among the children of God, to think their spiritual state and condition to be bad, when it ivn Ferrintosh. Thou„-h itself not dis- tinguished by great external beauty, in comparison of the parishes across the water, it is, nevertheless, the scene of an annual assemblage more interesting to me by far than the rarest combination of natural objects — the sacramental gathering in the " Burn of Ferrin- tosh." A Highland sacrament is always a most solemn and interesting sight ; but I question whether a spectator is at any time so much impressed with the scene, as when it is presided over by Dr Macdonald in his own parish. The numbers are there swelled to an incredible amount by strangers from the neigh- bouring parishes and counties — the shires of Ross, Cromarty, Inverness, and even Sutherland, pouiing forth their companies to join the worshippers. It was but once that I was privileged to behold the sight — on the last jiublic sacrament before the J>is- ruption. As there was no service in our church on that particular Sabbath, I rode over to Ferrintosh, hoping, should the opportunity occur, to behold for myself a sight of which so many glowing dcscrii/tious bad been given me. I overtook upon the way num- bers of gigs and carts with their comfortable-looking occupants, " blue-bonnet fanners " on their ponies, and hundreds of pedestrians of both sexes travelling in groups of three or four; these last occupied almost invariably in conversing upon some Scripture text or giving notes of the various sermons they had heard — some weighty word being not unfrequently recalled at a distance of many years. Did a minister happen to pass the travcllei-s, every bonnet was doffed, and many an ejaculatory prayer was whispered that the presence of the Lord might go with his servant, and that a blessing might rest on the preachers of the day. I had intended to put up my horse at the manse stable, but found that not only were the stalls filled, — three ln» ses being often in one division — but that in the sheds and square every available mch was occu- pied. I was soon, however, relieved from my diffi- culty by a boy offering to take charge of the animal, and see it well fed; and, knowing that in no possible circumstances, could a Highland groom be an ex- pensive one, I had little hesitation inaccepting his offer. At each Highland sacrament there are two con- gregations— the one composed of the English hearers, who worship in the church; the other, of the Gaelic population, who conduct their services in the open air. Owing to the fervour and expressiveness of the Gaelic tongue, and to the great " liberty " enjoyed by the preacher who employs it, the out- door serAdces are always attended by a far larger number than when English is spoken; and, indeed, it would be almost impossible to accommodate within any Pres- byterian church an average Gaelic congregation on a communion Sabbath. But at Ferrintosh the number is immense — being seldom below six thou- sand, frequently amounting to ten, and on one oc- casion reaching, as I was told, the enormous total of fifteen thousand souls. It reminds one of those glorious days when the cities of Germany poured forth their thousands to hear the Gospel at the lips of Luther ; and I question whether, even in that land of deep feelmg and those times of thrilling excitement, there was ever witnessed a scene more solemn and impressive than the gathering at Ferrintosh. The place of meeting seems cut out for the ex- press purpose, by the immediate hand of Him who is at once the God of nature and of grace, and who, as if in anticipation of the scenes of holy interest to be presented by that locaUty, would appear to have in- cluded the very dip of the land, and the course of a brook among the " all thuigs " which " work to- gether for the good of them that love him." At a convenient distance from the church, the " Burn of Ferrintosh," oiten almost di-y in summer, descends a deep hollow, that forms a large oblong slightly rounded at the upper end, the sides of which slope towards each other, leaving a space of flat green sward between ; and under this, if I remember aright, the waters of tlie Burn are carried by a drain. The sides of the declivity are deeply furrowed all around, like the parallel roads of Glenroy, on a small scale, as if the waters of the Burn had collected in the space, and forced an outlet at different intervals, though nmch is doubtless owing to manual labour. These furrows are the seats on which the people rest ; line rising above line, in close succession, something like the pews of what was once Free St George's, and now the Free Gaelic Chm-ch of Edinburgh. The appearance of the people, as they sat upon these Highland benches, was both interesthig and micom- mon. Hats were pretty numerous among the males; but rarely was a bonnet seen upon a female head — that of the maiden being generally bare, and the matron wearing a " mutch" (cap), while the elderly 104 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. women liad grey or blue cloaks, with the hoods wrap- ped round their heads. The snow-white caps of the females contrasted pleasingly with tlie coarse blue bonnets of the men ; and as my eye first caught the congregation, it dwelt with a more delighted gaze upon their homely appearance than even when, after the lapse of a few months, I looked round, at the time of the Disruption, on the vast concourse of gen- tility at Canonmills. A solemn interest sat on every countenance, the men. in particular appearing to drink in with avidity*every word that was said ; and as the heart-searching address of the minister fell meaningless on my ear, I could have wept at my in- ability to share then- strong emotions. The tent, or temporary pulpit, is placed at the lower end of the open space, which rises slightly towards the upper extremity of the area ; in front of the tent stretched one long communion-table — at which, by the way, a Highlander never seats himself till it is " fenced." After the conclusion of the " action sermon" and the " fencing" of the tables, a large number of verses was sung in the wild music of the Gaelic psalmody. The precentor who officiated on the occasion was a vener- able-looking old man, whose voice was heard but in- distinctly by the most distant part of the congregation ; as he was joined, however, by those near him, the sound gradually waxed louder and louder, tiU the whole eight thousand voices swelled the sacred song, Und formed one vast chorus which, in power, if not in harmony, in fervour, if not in skill, has, since the days of Gustavus Adolphus,* been almost wholly unsurpassed. Still, I confess, I was a little disap- pointed in the expectations I had formed of the singing; for though I have never heard so powerful a chorus, yet I had entertained a higher idea of the com- pass of so many voices than was actually realized. But a Highland congregation never sings loudly; their melody is rather deep than strong; and the greater the solemnity of the occasion, the lower is the tone in which the psalm is sung. During the singing, the elders — " the men" of Ferrintosh — assisted by a few of their brethren from neighbouring parishes, placed on the table the elements of bread and wine, the communicants coming slowly forward to take their seats. The tardiness of the Highlanders in tliis matter is very strikmg — each seeming to feel that he is going to meet the Lord, and to tremble lest he should be found eating and drinking judgment to himself; and the officiating minister has to encourage, exhort, and not unfrequently to rebuke, the timid believer, ere he will venture to commemorate his Saviour's dying love. I do not deny that this hesi- tation is often carried to an unwarrantable extent, the Highland communicant often thinking that his present frame of mind, rather than his personal in- terest in Clu'ist, is to be the test of his worthiness. But still, hesitation is infinitely preferable to haste, affording, as it does, a pretty sure indication of the stricter compliance with the injunction : " But let a man examine himself." At the table, the solemnity was most marked; not an eye was open * During the wars of Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, the whole army, consisting of ten thousand men, used, on the eve of a battle, to sing Luther's hymn : " God is our refuge," &c. — Ps. xlvi. — each head was hung down; and, save when the elements passed, and the communicants partook of the bread and wine, scarce a motion was visible along the whole line. It being the fourth or fifth table that I witnessed, Dr Macdonald did not officiate. He was leaning over the front of the " tent," watching his beloved flock with a pastor's eye, and seeming to view with that delight wliich none but a pastor knows, the refreshment of his people's souls at the streams of living water. Blessed old man ! Twenty years had elapsed since he sprinkled the water of baptism upon my face, and prayed that I might be spared for usefulness in the cause of Him from whom a scarcely living mother had received me ; and as I now stood above him on the alder-skirted bank of the " Burn," my heart glowed more strongly than ever with an affection which I shall always cherish ; and right sure am I, that when I return his prayer into his own bosom — that he now may be spared for many a useful year — my supplication will be re-echoed from the breast of every child of God that has known the person of John Macdonald, or heard his honoured name. I did not stay long, and about an hour after my departure the congregation dispersed. Suitably rewarding my little groom, I returned slowly to my home never to forget the scene wliich I had witnessed in the " Burn of Ferrintosh." LITTLE CHILDREN BROUGHT TO JESUS. " Suffer that little children come to me; Forbid them not." Emboldened by his words, The mothers onward press ; but finding vain Th' attempt to reach the Lord, they trust their babes To strangers' hands. The innocents, alarmed Amid the throng of faces aU unknown, Shrink trembling, till their wandering eyes discern The countenance of Jesus beaming love And pity ; eager then they stretch their arms, And, cowering, lay their heads upon his breast. Graham. JOHN RONGE AND CONTINENTAL POPERY. TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Dear Sir, — It is with great attention and anxiety that I have watched till now the proceedings of my countryman, John Ronge; and kno^ving, as I do, all the relations of Germany and its Romanism, I am disposed to view what has happened there of late in a light somewhat different from the usual one. And I think it my duty now to state freely my opinion on Ronge, and the motives which probably actuate him, especially as I find that only one, and always the fa- vourable view of his principles, has been presented to the public here ; a thing which, even taking in its ex- cuse (of making else the movement lose the interest taken in it in this country), is not only, in my opinion, very wrong, but, in fact, does nothing but harm. For the people of God are, I fear, somewhat misled; and not knowing all the circumstances accurately, are not instant enough in prayer that the fortress built against Rome may not be inhabited by Satan's garrison, instead of Immanuel's. I observe that a Romanizing tendency of the new Church is generally the only thing aporehended; and even their defect in JOIIX RONGE AND CONTINENTAL POPERY. 105 the doctrine of justification, is ascribed to that only. This is an opinion which I suspect to be a mistaken one. I much fear that it rather arises from Neolo- gian tendencies. True it is, Romanism and Neolnajy agree on tliis point, at least as to the niaiti principle; and so it might, at first sight, appear dillicult to dis- cover by \vhicli of these two Konge is moved. If I am told that Luther was at first also defective in his views on this point, I would answer, that Luther began in quite another manner his work of reforma- tion— grounding it on, and prompted to it by, a belief in Bible truths. But in all I have read from and on Ronge, 1 find little of that basis. He tells us, indeed, that Christ left his Sinrit, and not his coat, to the Church ; but, alas ! has Ronge himself been led by it into all truth? Ilis Churck seems to mean, "all mankind, and mankind here on earth " (p. 3G of Konge'8 Justification, hi the pamphlet lately pub- lished) ; and for the " Holy Spu-it " he finds (p. 98) a very analogous interpretation. This doubt becomes more and more grounded, if wo consider the present state of the Romish comnumion. Its principles and tendencies, indeed, are known here, but little or nothing of its present actual bearing; for the fact is, that one must have lived, iis I have done, the greater part of life in a Popish country, and have made, in travelling, close observations as to its different outgoings, to he. able to sum up the incredible superstition of its lower people, and the Infidelity, and gross immorality of its clergy, and all ranks of society. I speak here oi Popish countries — not of such where most of the population are Protestants ; for Romanism is a kind of bed of Procrustes, suiting either all to itself, or differing only in that it suits itself to all. In Berlin, for example, I oliserved that they exchanged, in their churches, the little and larger pictures for beautiful statues; probably to at- tract the aesthetic sense of this modern Athens ; and 80 on in other countries. From the idolatrous wor- ship of images which one finds in a Popish countri/, under every green tree and on every hill and cross- way, to the most ludicrous and jiitiful processions, all is done to blind and mislead the jieople; on whom the lowering effect of Romish principles is so great, that, strange as it may appear, when I wan- dered, in company of a friend, through a partly Popish, partly Protestant country, we were, when entering a village, by its dirt, disorder, and rudeness of manner in young and o!d,without any words, told which of the villages was Poj)ish ; and, indecd,so marked a difference exists between places separated by one or two hours' distance, that we felt, on entering a Protestant one, as if at once in another country. The kneeling before, and praying to images, is a thing to be witnessed at every corner. Sometimes these are the most fearful blasjjhemies imaginable; as, for example, one which I saw of the Holy Trinity, in which, (wiuildyou believe it?) (jod the b'ather was de])icte(l with the red cloak and hat of the i\)])e — covering with the formerthe Son and the Holy Spirit — the latter under the shape of a dove. From the procession, priest and people go to drink, and spend the remainder of their sacred days in scenes of vice and beastly vulgarity, such as would have put even Bacchanals to shame. Playing of cards is the usiuvl daily business of the parson, who is ge- nerally the worst man in the parish, as he is often the most grossly ignorant. We know, from our own personal observation, how crimes which make one's blood turn cold are coolly perj)etrated by those who dare call themselves ministers of Christ; yea, the more learned, the worse have we generally fomul them. The good, stupid clas-s of them read their prayers, pray their paternosters, and spend, regu- larly, the other part of the day in catiiig, drinking, playing of cards, and in a kind of moderate profli- gacy. But the more learned are deeply plunged in Infidelity. And how could it well be otherwise ? Some worldly reason leads them to the Church. Ge- nerally they know just as much of tlie Bible as they have been obliged to learn by heart in Latin — are kept back from all free inquiries; while their morals are blinked over, and then they are at once ushered into parishes, and made actors in those religious comedies or tragedies called Popish worship. Let, for example, a man consider the mummery which is practised every year on Good Friday in G — , in W , through which I had last year occasion to pass, and which was described to me by a pious Pro- testant, who lives there, and has witnessed it often. The procession is opened by a man dressed in sheep- skin, with false hair and beard, carrying a tree, on which are placed a gilded apple and a serpent, to re- present old Adam. He is accompanied by a priest, who reads the prayers. After him comes a little boy, dressed as simply as possible, and led on with twelve strings by persons in the apparel of shepherds ; the ■whole representing Joseph of Kgypt. Now, the query would arise, how to procure him the necessary coat of many colours. For this the priests have fomid an in- genious remedy. They declare it to be of great profit, for the remission of sins, to pin little images of saints on poor Joseph's coat. Consequently, all devotees rush upon the poor boy, and in a few moments he is covered with little pictures of X, Y, Z, patrons of men, horses, cattle, oxen, sheep, &c., and all the patronesses whom the yearly calendar has preserved to posterity, along with the interesting changes of the seasons, the wea- ther, &c. I almost shrink from speaking of the third, person of this procession, but truth prompts me to do so. A person with a mask, in oi'der that he may not be recognised, with false hair and beard, dressed in red merino, barefooted, and bearing a real cross, is made to represent our Saviour I Tlie person acting this is generally the greatest siimer in the communion, whose sins can by no other penance be forgiven. The bearing of the heavy cross (more or less heavy by a load of stones, according to his sins) up a hill called Calvary — on the way to which he is commanded to fall down as often as our Saviour is said to have fallen under the weight on his way to the cruci- fixion— together with the actor's religious excitement and his light dress in a generally very severe season, often terminates in the death of the imhappy indivi- dual. Another person goes behind him to help, in imitation of Simon. Both are suiTounded by a l>iirty of men who are intended to represent Roman soldiers; but the necessary costume being awanting, they are put into the uniform of Frederick the Great, with two-cornered hats and long halberds. This ridiculous company of soldiers is followed by a priest, who feigns to say, with all devotion, his prayers. The whole way is lined ■with tents where liquor is sold. In general, no man can imagine how much ■vice is perpetrated in pilgrimages to images or little pictures of the Virgin. While I write this letter, it seems to me almost as if I heard the monotone melody of one of these processions which, just returned from a ■visit they have paid to the Virgin, are singing to the crowds which come forth to meet them : " A kind compli- ment to you from our holy Virgin;" — all the bells ringing, and the clergy and schools going to meet them with crosses and banners. I might also tell of the tongue of Nepomuck, a priest, who would not betray the confession of the Queen of Bohemia, and whose tongue was consequently cut out, and is still said to be preserved untouched, and is shown every year to the people; or of the right hand of St Stephen, the Hungarian, who lived in the tenth century, and which is still said to exist; or I might speak of the cere- monies of (Tood Friday, when a coffin, surrounded by twelve burning candles, and guarded by soldiers, is put into the church, in order aftenvards to play a comedy in representation of our Lord's resurrection ! But it would be tiring, though I could fiU books with it, were I to give you a description of some of the other processions, relics, &c., or of the blasphemous and sacrilegious hajMsing of the fiekh, in order to render the crops abundant ; all which I know from 'personal observation. By what we have said, hoAvever, it will be easily understood how the populace will with plea- sure take hold on a religion which, countenancing all the depraved human tendencies towards supersti- tion, gives them, at the sametime, a shield for all their vices ; and this, indeed, is quite necessary, for better things could else be minded — perhaps questions about salvation might be raised, which would prove dangerous to Rome. But by taking away then- Bibles, so that the Word of God is, in fact (as I know), a poUce-forbidden book, and by keeping them farther unmolested in, yea, by fostering sensuality and igno- rance, and finally, by suppressing, either by violence (as lately was sometimes the case) any religious awakening which could still threaten, or, more fre- quently, by rooting it out in their will- worship and Carnival mummeries, Rome keeps its people in sub- jection. It would seem astonishing, at first aspect, how the more cultivated of the people, who are in gene- ral Deists, can remain within the pale of Rome. But our astonishment must cease, when we consider the difficulties with which the leaving of Popery is generally beset, and the much private, if not public, persecution to which Protestants are exposed. Rome, on the contrary, afibrds them, by its work and self- righteousness, every facility to remain; and their general excuse for her mummeries is, that they are altogether necessary for the uncultivated people, who would not otherwise understand anything about God, neither remember him, but are attracted by a worship exciting their imagination. This holds also true of a great number of the priests, making allowance for the comparatively few devotees, and the still fewer who, amidst much darkness, have got a saving know- ledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. Some of the latter are known to me, and I had once, when travel- ling on the Rhine, the unspeakable delight of a day's conversation with such a person, whose name I Lave been disappointed not to find yet in the ranks of tne German Catholic Church. It is partly from these premises that I think I may be allowed to deduce my suspicion lest the most of Rouge's people, having once thrown aside all fear, wish more to contend against Rome, under the banner of Rationalism than under that of the Gospel of the Son of God. True it is, that letters from Protestant friends express a hope to the contrary ; but one might easily conceive how far they could be misled by their joy in seeing the Anti-Romanistic tendency of the new movement. We doubt not, however, that a good number of the adherents to the new Church are evangelical ; as, for example, the Rev. Mr Czerski, to whom we un- derstand twenty priests have given in their adhe- rence, besides those who joined him before, though we must confess that Articles I., III., IV. (p. 105 of the pamphlet), seem to us scarcely orthodox; as also the Rev. Chi-istopher Licht, of the Elbertield congregation, whose letter breathes a Christian spirit, and where, we have no doubt, the beneficial influ- ence of orthodox, living. Protestantism may be seen ; and further, all those connected with the late evan- gelical movement in the Romish communion, occa- sioned by Sailer, Hug, Hermes, &c. — among the rest. Professor Dr Regenbrecht. In «%;/ case we still hail the movement, as having brought them out of the pale of Rome, in which we are firmly assured that it is absolutely impossible that an evangelical tendency can prosper; for Rome must needs be destroyed — it cannot be reformed; and wishing that our fears may be disappointed, we cannot but say that in the new Church, in any case, a way for free inquiry is opened up, which all Christians cannot but desiderate, and of which we ought to take all the advantage possible. As to Ronge himself, whose very recent pamphlets, not known in this country, we have perused, and which breathe all the same naturallt/ noble spirit, our fears were rather augmented by reading an accoimt of his introduction as minister of the new Church in Bres- lau. This was done on the 9th of March a.c, in the presence of the twelve hundred members constituting the congregation there. Dr Steiner began the cere- mony by addressing the congregation, and holding before them the impoiiauce of the day, and calling upon them to exercise once more their so long with- held right to choose their OAvn pastor without the in- terference of others. The congregation then called unanimously, and in the presence of God, the Rev. John Ronge to be their minister. Dr Steiner in- formed them that the Rev. Mr Czerski, of the new congregation in Schneidemlihle, had arrived, to be present on the occasion. No less joy was felt when it was declared that the Rev. Mr Kerbler, till then chaplain of Lindenau, near MUnstenberg, had joined the new Church, and was soon to appear in the midst of them. The minister was now solemnly introduced, twelve girls in wliite, ■with garlands, open- ing the procession; then came Ronge, accompanied by Czerski, and Kerbler, and the ku-k-session of the new congregation ; who, by the way, are also chosen by popular election, and have a right to vote in Church courts, as an account of the elections for the late general council of the new Church sufSciently shows. Dr Steiner then addressed the new minister, hold- ing before him his important duties. Ronge re- plied, and promised the congregation not to leave them, either in joy or grief, through good or bad report. After the singing of a hymn, Ronge entered the pulpit and preached a sermon, the extracts of which, as given in the Hamburg papers, are (as we fear) rather Rationalistic. After the read- ing of the ordinary Church prayers, a letter from the new congi-egation at Dresden was read. Then followed a recital of the Apostles' Creed, to which the whole congregation responded. After the read- ing of Scripture passages referring to the Lord's supper, a solenm hymn of thanksgiving was beauti- fully executed, and the congregation dismissed. The Rev. Mr Kerbler has been unanimously chosen col- legiate minister to Mr Ronge. In the meantime new congregations are daily forming, and mostly opened by Ronge and Czerski, who itinerate for this pur- pose from place to place, and which are for the pre- sent mostly accommodated in the Protestant places of worship. I must, before I close, take the opportunity of ex- pressing my great disappointment at the conduct of some of the German orthodox Proteetants. I am fully aware that, in the difficult circumstances in which they are placed, they cannot, as a body, rise to help Ronge against Rome; they must act more as private indivi- duals, and in helping others who help again directly those who attack Rome ; but I must express my asto- nishment, when I saw some of these good men declar- ing themselves publicly against Ronge, as a Rationalist, in such a manner as, instead of instructing him in meekness and love, but tended to cast him oif at once and altogether. By this means they will not only force them to go for assistance to the Rationalistic Protestants — the danger of which every one will see — but help also Rome, who will gladly avail her- self of the arms thus lent her by their enemies. Prussia, however, is miderstood to give toleration to the new Church, and Saxony will doubtless foUow its example, though the alleged answer of the king of this latter country to the Popish depu- BASKET OF FRAGMENTS. 107 tation (p. 104 of the pamphlet), has been stoutly and flatly contradicted by some of the German news- papers. What the Popish German States vriW do remains to be seen. The Archbishop of Mayence, the only prelate who had not approved of the exhi- bition of Treves, was for a time supposed to be willing to take the lead in the movement; but his answer to the cnngrej;ation of Otfcnbach, which ap- plied to him for advice, wherein he counsels them to join rather at once the Protestant Church, shows that our hopes of him have been disappointed. We have no doubt that Rome's policy will be to i^roclaim them Infidels, and to try to make them really Soci- nians ; for they know that Socinianism will not do for any lenj;th of time, and will drive the people, by-and- by, back to the superstitions of Rome (this is always their policy against Continental Protestants), or bring them to join the Lutheran Church ; which, in fact, would be, at the present stage, very dangerous, desir- able as it may be for a future period, when the new Church has gained more strength. In the meantime, Popish priests are not ashamed to add to the exhibi- tion of Treves new fables, as that the holy coat was worn by Jesus all his life, and had grown with him in length and breadth. Yea, an ultra-montane pub- lication from Bavaria, has impudence cnougli to assure such a gross fabrication as an article of faith. Having thus stated our doubts and fears about Ronge and his movement, we would conclude by pro- posing that the Christian Churches of Britain, who l^avebeen called upon in the concluding sentences of Ronge's Justification (p. 82) to unite with him, should jointly write him a letter, both to encourage his heart and to strengthen his hands, and to demand, at the sametime, of him a clear testimony of his belief in the Bible and the Son of God, as set forth therein. How profitable such a step could be, both in animat- ing him and in drawing his attention more closely to tlie one thing needful, appears to me self-evident; how requisite, on the other hand, it is for Britain to act once more as a imited Protestant co2tnlri/, I leave every British Christian to judge for himself. Let us Protestants take, finally, an example from the efforts of idolatrous Rome to circulate her soul-destructive heresies ; and let us, in the name of Jesus, lift up and wave heavenwards a banner for Christ's crown and glory; let us carry it over seas and countries, and plant it on ever// hill, and on every mountain, till, like the festival trumpet-sound of old, the name of Christ is proclaimed by every lip, and adored in every heart, to the glory of (xod the Father, through the Eternal Spirit. — I am, &c. A German Presbyteuian. BaisUet of JFragnunts. Poverty Reconciled. — Poverty only looks well in poetry, and only is well in religion. Cause and Effect. — He who has the ear of God has the hand of God. Be not HioH-MiNDED, BUT Pear. — A story is told of a young minister, who ascended the pulpit full of self-possession and vanity; but, havhig been left to his own strength, quitted it humbled and hanging down his head; upon which an old woman wliis- pered to him : " Ah ! Sir, if you had gone up into the pulpit as you came down, you might have come down as you went up." Pride is the common forerunner of a fall. Tt was the devil's sin, and the devil's ruin; and has been, ever since, the devil's stratagem, who, like an expert wrestler, usually gives a man a lift before ho gives him a throw. — Ih- SouUi,. Conceit a Proof of our Depravity. — We arc as vain as if we were in full possession of our original perfection ; and our being vain is a certain proof that we are not. — Adam. Rome the Enkmy of Enlightenment. — Rowland Philip, the vicar of Croydon, preaching at St Paul's against the art of j)rinting, then lately brought into England, uttered this sentence in the coui-se of his sermon: — "We [meaning the Romanists] must root out printing, or printing will root out us. — Fox. The Importance of Example.. — The world looks at ministers out of the pulpit, to know what they mean when in it. — Cecil. Prosperity too often has the same effect on a Christian that a calm at sea has on a Dutch mariner, who frequently, it is said, in those circumstances, ties up the rudder, gets drunk, and goes to sleep. — Bishop Home. Deeds, not Words. — It is not enough for us to stand gazing upon the wickedness of the times, unless we endeavour to redress it. — Bishop Hall. THE OONSTRATNIXG POWER OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST. Love to Christ is a motive equal to all emergen- cies. There is a ruling passion in every mind ; and when every other consideration has lost its power, this ruling passion retains its influence. When they were probing among his shattered ribs for the fatal bullet, the French veteran exclaimed : " A httle deeper, and you will find the emperor." The deepest affection in a believing soul is the love of its Saviour. Deeper than the love of home, deeper than the love of kindred, deeper than the love of rest and recreation, deeper than the love of life, is the love of Jesus. And so, when other spells have lost their magic, when no name of old endearment, no voice of onwaiting tenderness, can disperse the lethargy of dissolution, the name that is above every name, pro- nounced by one who knows it, will kindle its last ani- mation in the eye of death. And when other persua- sives have lost their power — when other loves no longer constrain the Christian — when the love of country no longer constrains his patriotism, nor the love of his brethren his philanthropy, nor the love of home his fatherly affection — the love of Christ will still con- strain his loyalty. There is a love to Jesus which no- thing can destroy. There is a leal-heartedness which refuses to let a much-loved Saviour go, even when the palsied arm of affection is no longer conscious of the benignant form it embraces. There is a love which, amidst the old and weary " feel " of waning years, re- news its youth, and amidst outward misery and inward desolation preserves its immortal root — which, even when the glassy eye of hunger has forgot to sparkle, and the joy at the heart can no longer mantle on the wthered cheek, still holds on, faithful to J esus, though the flesh be faint. This was the love which made Paul and Silas, fatigued and famished as they were, and sleepless with pain, sing praise so loud that tlieir fellow-prisoners heard and wondered. This was the love which burned in the apostle's breast, even when buffeting the Adriatic's wintry brine, and made the work winch at Rome awaited him beam like a star of hope through the dro^\-ning darkness of that dismal night. This was the love which thawed his pen, when the moan of wintry winds made him miss the cloak he left at Troas, and impelled him to write to Tiniotliy a testamentary entreaty to "holdfast" the truths which were ha.stening himself to martyrdom. Devotedness to Christ is a princijilc which never dies, and neither docs the diligence which springs.from it. — Jlamilton^s Life in Earnest. 108 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ©atlg Brcati, FIllDAV. " Cease to do evil ; learn to do well." — Isa. i. IG, 17. Meekness, humility, and love, Through all his conduct shine; 0 may my vvliole deportment prove A copy, Lord, of tliine ! Christiauity does uot end in negatives; — no man cleans his garden but with the view of planting of flowers or useful lierbs. God calleth upon us to dis- possess ourselves of our corruptions, but it is for the reception of new inhabitants. It is not enough that our hearts be swept, unless they be also garnished ; that we lay aside our pride, our luxury, and our covetousness, unless humility, temperance, and libe- rality, shine in thek places. — South. SATURDAY. " To-morrow is the rest of the holy Sabbath unto the Lord." — ExoD. xvi. 23. Safely through another week God liath brouglit us on our way; Lft us now a blessing seek On the approaching Sabbath-day; Day of all the week the best — Emblem of eternal rest. Study to hare a deep sense of your wants upon your spirits, that you may get suitable supplies for them upon the Sabbath. If you were going to a great market next day, you would be thinking the night before what you wanted or needed thereat: The Sabbath is the great market day for your souls, when you may hear Christ crying, as Rev. iii. 18 : " I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich ; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed." — WiUison. SABBATH. " The love of Christ, which passeth knowledge." — Eph. iii. 19. What in thy love possess I not ? My star by night, my sun by day. My spring of life when p.ircti'd with drought, My wine to cheer, my bread to stay. My strength, my shield, my safe abode, My robe before the thione of God. No love like Christ's; yea, his love to us tran- scends his love to all other things. He loved us more than angels, for he would not put on their nature ; he loved us more than heaven, for he left that to come and save us ; he loved us more than riches and honour, for he chose poverty, and became of no re- putation, to redeem us; he loved us more than the comforts of life, for he parted with these, and be- came a man of sorrows for our sake; he loved us more than his blood, for he willingly parted with that for us ; lie loved us more than his soul and body, for he gave both these to be an offering for our sins ; he was more concerned for us than for himself; he re- joiced more in our welfare than in his own ; he wept and prayed more for us than for himself; and in the time of his greatest strait, when heaven, earth, and hell were all at once rushing upon him, we have his prayer, .John xrii., yet it is all spent for us, ex- cept one Terse or two for himself. — Wiliison. MONDAY. " Enoch walked with God."— Gen. v. 24. With God sweet converse I maintain. Great as he is, I dare be free ; 1 tell him all my grief and pain. And he reveals liis love to me. A devout man is he that ever sees the Invisible, and ever trembleth before that God he sees ; that walks even here on earth with the God of heaven, and still adores that majesty with wliom he con- verses ; that confers hourly with the God of spirits in liis own language, yet so as no familiarity can abate of his awe, nor fear abate aught of his love ; to whom the gates of lieaven are ever open, that he may go in at pleasure to the tlirone of grace, and none of the angelical spirits can offer to challenge him of too much boldness; whose eyes are well acquainted with tliose lieavenly guardians, the presence of wiiom he doth as truly acknowledge as if they were his sensi- ble companions. He is well known of the King of Glory, for a daily suitor in the court of heaven j and none so welcome there as he. — IlaU. " Giving no offence in anything." — 2 Cor. vi. 3. Beset with snares on every hand, In life's uncertain path I stand : Saviour divine, diffuse thy light To guide my doubtful footsteps right ! Beware of everything in your conduct that would prove a scandal. They who see can get over stum- bling-blocks ; but who would throw them in the way of the blind ? " Make straight paths for your feet, lest that which is lame be turned out of the way; but let it rather be healed." — Jai/. WEDNESDAY. " Pray without ceasing." — 1 Thess. v. 17. My soul, ask what thou wilt. Thou canst not be ton bold ; Since his own blood for thee he spilt, What else can he withhold? Beyond thy utmost wants His love and power can bless : To those who ask he always grants More than they can express. Prayer is an all-efficient panoply, a treasure un- diminished, a mine which never is exhausted, a sky unobscured by clouds, a haven unruffled by the storm ; it is the root, the fountain, and the mother of a thousand, ten thousand blessings. I speak not of the prayer which is cold and feeble, and devoid of energy ; I speak of that which is the child of a con- trite spirit, the offspring of a soul converted, lost in a blaze of umitterable inspiration, and winged like hghtning for the skies. — St Chrysoslom. THURSDAY. " The end of that man is peace." — Ps. xxxvii. 37. But O when that last conflict's o'er, And I am cliain'd to earth no more, With what glad accents shall I rise To join the music of the skies ! Soon shall I learn the exalted strains Which echo through the heavenly plains, And emulate, with joy unknown. The glowing seraphs round the throne. When God sends Death as his messenger for the regenerate man, he meets liim half way to heaven; for his conversation and affection is there before him. Death is never strange nor fearful unto him. Not strange, because lie died daily ; not fearful, because wliilst lie lived, he was dead, and his life was hid with Christ in God. To die, therefore, is to him nothing else in effect, but to rest from his labour in this world, to go home to his Father's house. — Bayly. **• A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh: Printed by John Johnstone, residing at 2, .Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. Groombrtdc-.k .v Sons. Glas- gow : J. R. M'Naiu & Co. ; and to be had of any Book- seller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 109 THE FAMILY OF BETHANY. BY THE REV. JAMES ROBERTSON, PORTSBURGH, EDINBURGH. There are some places so linki'd in our minds with interesting associations, that their names have become like so many charmed words. Of these some affect more especially the mind of the scholar, others the bosom of the jiatriot or lover of his country, while others, again, touch most powerfully the Cliristian heart. These last are as numerous as they are remarkable. Judea or Palestine, as a whole, stands unri- valled and alone in the estimation of every man of pious feeling; so that he does not regard even his lu^.tive land with so deep and holy an affection. " What country," he exclaims, " is to be for a moment compared with that whose soil, after being trod by the feet of patriarchs and prophets, was at length hallowed by tlie presence and dyed by the blood of the incarnate Son of God ?" And while this region, viewed as a whole, is contemplated with such emotions, each portion of it has its peculiar interest — its own individual set of associations. Thus, in regard to its mountains, we think of Carmel in connection with lOlijah, and his victory over the priests of Jinnl — of Tabor, as the i)rol)al)le scene of the transfiguration — of Calvary, as the awful Bpot where the Avork of atonement was finished — of Olivet, as the mount wlience, having " made an end of sin," he ascended to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God. In regard to its lakes and rivers, and even brooks, we have Kedron, the .lordan, and the Sea of (Gali- lee; while, in regard to its towns and villages, time would fail were we to attempt to enume- rate their names, or detail the incidents that have rendered them famous. We, however, select one of them, and request the attention of our readers to the circumstances that have im- parted to it an imperishable interest. Bethany was a small village about two miles east from .lerusalem, not far from Gethsemane, the scene of our Saviour's agony, and at the base of Mount Olivet, the scene of his ascen- sion— a fitting spot for humble piety to dwell. Of the inhabitants of this village, almost the only names that have come down tons are the names of those mentioned in the 11th chap- ter of .John's Gospel, who will be held in ever- lasting remembrance. They were but little known at the time — they achieved nothing worthy, as men esteem it, of being recorded in history or embalmed in song; yet they were amongst the few truly great ones of the earth, who, in the face of an imbelicving and perse- cuting world, embraced and honoured the lowly Jesus; and they have found a jdace, not only in the Volume of Inspiration, but in the Lamb's Book of Life. Their names were, Mary, Martha lier sistci-, and their brother Lazarus. Which of the sisters was the elder, we caiuiot positively iNo. 10. say ; Mary, however, seems to have been the more advanced in grace. Both were believers; butsheappears to have been the more spiiitually- minded of the two, and the more devotedly at- tached to Jesus. The very first time she is introduced to our notice she fixes our admiration. We behold Martha acting the part of a good and hospitable landlady, but Mary that of an eager learner and devout distnple. " Martha was cum- bered about much serving; butMarysatat.Iesus' feet, and heard his word." But it would be in- justice to the Christian character of Martha not to take notice here of the noble testimony she bore, when, in answer to a question of our Lord concerning her faith in him as the resurrection and the life, she said unto him: "Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God, which should come into the world." The perfection of female character would seem to lie in the union of the charac- teristic excellences of these two women — in combining attention to household affairs and the offices of hospitality with the due imjjrove- ment of means of grace and spiritual profit. Let married women especially attend to this, and so study arrangement and order, as to have time to receive visits of Jesus, and reap the benefit of his instructions. Wherever there is a willingness and preparation to receive and entertain him, he will vouchsafe his presence; and there ought to be such jireparation, not only in prospect of the Sabbath, but, if possible, m.orning and evening, by securing leisure for the exercises of family devotion. Then should the world be forgotten, and Jesus employ all our thoughts, and engross all our atfections. Of Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, we know nothing more than what is related in the chapter previously referred to, and the one which follows, where we learn that he was present at a supper given to the Saviour in Bethany shortly before his crucifixion. And this is enough ; for, however pleasing it might be to have had some furtlier })articulars reganling him, it should be borne in mind, that the object of the inspired writers is to exalt the Kedeeincr; so that, instead of directing attention to other matters, however interesting, their habitual aim is to fix our minds on him, and to impress us with just ideas of his excellence and glory. We may, however, safely enough conclude, from the affection which the Saviour bore to him, that Lazarus was a partaker of like pre- cious faith as his sisters, and that they thus formed a group bound and endeared to one another by ties still holier than those of mere consanguinity, and nu)re indissoluble. And Oh ! how unspeakable a mercy is it, when, in spite of constitutional differences in a family, grace X'l^ 2, 1845. 110 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. is seen paramount in all, purifying their hearts, sweetening iheir tempers, and uniting them in an affection which death will but enhance and refine. But, alas ! how rare a thing is this ! And why so rare ? Partly, it may be, through the fault of those brought to the knowledge of i the truth, not strivingsufficiently, by prayer and in the use of means, for the spiritual wellbeing of the rest. We know not how it was at Bethany — whether one was made instrumental in con- verting another, or all wei'e converted at once; but the former is the more usual way. Pious parents should give tliemselves, and they should give God, no rest till they behold a work of grace begun in their children — till they have good reason to believe that they have been born again; and wliere the parents are ungodly, or have been removed by death, but some one of the family is religious, it becomes that one to do everything in his power for the salvation of the whole. Such procedure, prayerfully adopted and persevered in, would be attended with the happiest results. True, such results might not follow in every case. Grace is rich, but it is also sovereign in its exercise. " He will have mercy on whom he will have mercy." Still, we should have the satisfaction of knowing that we had done our duty; and if at last we should behold a parent or child, a husband or wife, a brother or sister, on the left hand of the Judge, while we ourselves are on the right, freed from their blood, we will at once humbly adore, and cordially acquiesce in, the wiU of Him who doeth all things well. Such was the family at Bethany — a family with whom Jesus had considerable intercourse, and to whom he was warmly attached. " Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus." The date of the commencement of the Saviour's intercourse with them we cannot confidently assign; perhaps it was the period spoken of by Luke (x. 38) : " Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village : and a certain woman, named Martha, received them into her house." Ere this, Martha must have heard of him, nay, it was probably be- cause her heart had been previously opened to receive him that she welcomed him within her threshold. Nor are we to think lightly of this mark of respect, recollecting the circumstances of the times, and the opposition every\\'here manifested to Jesus. It discovered a strength of regard and a decision of mind to which per- haps some of us are strangers. Are none of us ashamed to receive and entertain Jesus in our houses, in the way of habitually acknowledging him in our families, deferring to his authority, and cultivating his worship ? Many are the households in the land from which he is ex- cluded. Has he found lodging in ours ? and are we daily rejoicing in his presence and fellow- ship ? Blessed is that house in which the Son of God is an inmate. Everything in it is blessed. There may be poverty, there may be sickness, but all is sanctified; and the Saviour, having for a time dwelt with its occupants upon earth, will at last take them to himself, that where he is, there thej'^ may be also. " Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus;" he loved them because of their kindness to him, but chieily because of the faith and Chi-istian principle which they mani- fested. The grand occasion of the Saviour's affectionate regards was the piety of the family; and where this is awanting, no such regards can be entertained or exj)ressed. How serious a train of thought does this suggest ! Look- ing abroad over our country, how many homes are there in which we behold parental affec- tion rejoicing over youthful promise ! — how many hearths that are bright and joyous ! but is religion there ? — is piety there ? If not, what are these with all their amiabilities and all their accomplishments, in the estimation of the Saviour ? Oh ! it matters not that the mem- bers of a family are beautiful, are amiable, are surpassingly accomplished, if they are not godly. It is not on such things that the eye of Jesus loves to rest, but on scenes where Christian faith, and love, and hope prevail. Where these are, there is his home and his dwelling-place, whether in the crov.'ded city or quiet country — whether within the palace of the prince or the cabin of the peasant ; and the more of a family there are ■who are pious, the more will that family be the object of the Saviour's complacent regards. Hence the family at Bethany was peculiarly endeared to him. Even when with the twelve, he was not wholly amongst friends — for one of them was a devil; but when in the house of Mary, and Martha, and Lazarus, he was amongst none but attached disciples — disciples who seem to have lived together in the bonds of the closest mutual affection. But what we would chiefly impress iipon the minds of our readers is, not so much the excel- lence of Lazarus and his sisters, as the amiable character of the Saviour himself. Think of hkn on earth, delighting to cultivate habits of inter- course and fellowship with the children of men — of doing this amid his manifold cai'es and sorrows, and even in the near prospect of the solemn, the awful hour of atonement ! See him fatigued with labour in Jerusalem, repairing to Bethany, to partake of the hos-pitality of kind friends, and reciprocate their attachment ; and mark him, at length, as he stands at the grave of one of them, and weeps ! His was indeed a heart formed for love ! nay, it was love itself! and it is still the sam.e. " We have not a High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but who was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." Christian ! rejoice in this. He who loved Martha, and Mary, and Lazarus, loves all his people with a similar affection, and watches over them with an equal care. This is his language to them : " As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you; continue ye in my love." His love never alters. In all circura- THE FAMILY OP BETHANY. Ill stances we may rely upon its existence and operation, and especially in times of extremity. " When father and motlier both forsake nie, the Lord will take me up." As no mention is made of their parents, Lazarus and his sisters were probably orphans ; and if so, we have here a touching proof of the benevolence of our Lord, and a striking exemplification of the na- ture of that religion of which he is the author. How rich a source of consolation this to reli- gious parents in prospect of their dissolution : " Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me." "A Father of the fatherless, and a Judge of the widow, is God in his holy habitation." Such was the family of Bethany — such their peaceful, holy, happy home. We feel, while contemplating its unobtrusive piety, as if gazing on some sweet lake whose purity no foreign admixtures conspire to sully, and the deep calm of whose heaven-reflecting waters nothing, as one is apt to think, can disturb. But of a sud- den the sky lowers, and darkness gathers over the scene; thus reminding us that we have not yet reached " the better country, that is, an heavenly," where all is enduring, where the sun never sets, and the inhabitants never die. Lazarus grew sick. Christ's disciples are not exempted from the common ills of humanity. When these overtake them, they are not to be regarded as indicative of the absence or with- drawal of the Saviour's affection. The opposite conclusion rather should be di-awn; for "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he recciveth." Afflictions are sent that " the trial of their faith, which is more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, may be found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ." The conduct of the sisters showed at once their love for their brother and their high estimation of Jesus. They forthwith trans- mitted to him intelligence of what had taken place, saying, " Behold, he whom thou lovest is sick." They had confideuce equally in his love and in his power; nor was their confidence mis- placed, although returned in a fomi very diffe- rent from what they anticipated. And it were well if, in similar circumstances, we acted a similar part. Jesus is the friend that sticketh closer than a brother. To him we may at all times freely unbosom ourselves, under the conviction that he will cordially symi)athize with us, and impart the grace we need. And how easy is he of access ! We have not to send to a dis- tance to apprize him of the state of our affairs. He knows them before we tell him of them; and he did so in the case of Lazarus. But it is at once our duty and our privilege to lay them before him at a throne of grace. Whenever, then, we arc perplexed and troubled, let us go and tell Jesus, and let us ask his sympathy and aid, not only for ourselves, but for others also, especially for his afflicted people and his suffer- ing Church. An answer will come, although it may not be immediately, nor in the form ex- pected. So was it in the instance before us; for when Jesus heard that Lazarus was sick, instead of repairing instantly to Bethany, he abode two days still in the same place where he was. He remained there till the proper time arrived for the display of his gloi y. Had he been in Bethany during Lazarus' illness, or reached it while he Avas yet labouring imder it, it would have seemed strange had he not wrought a cui'e, or it might have been insinuated that there was collusion in the matter. But he was personally absent from the scene, till it must have been put beyond all doubt that Lazarus was indeed departed. " Then said Jesus unto the disciples jjlainly, Lazarus is dead. And I am glad, for your sakes, that I was not there, to the intent that ye may be- lieve; nevertheless let us go imto him." They set off on their journey; and Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him. The meeting between them was most touching. But we dwell not upon it, nor even upon the supernatural spectacle that soon after jjiesented itself, when after the saying, " I am the resur- rection and the life," the SaA-iour proceeded to furnish ocular demonstration of its ti-uth. Suffice it to remark, that Jesus proved himself to be divine; and, at the sametime, showed what his people may expect at his hands — all that in- finite love and almighty power can accomplish. The family whose happiness had been for a brief period disturbed, was rendered happier than ever. Jesus is the great Restorer; and what he did on a small scale at Bethany he will rea- lize in the experience of the whole family of which he is the elder brother — every oue of whom he loves as tenderly as he did ^Martha, or Mary, or Lazarus. He does not prevent breaches being made amongst them; no, but he permits them, that he may be glorified thereby. A re-union will take place; and, in connection with it, a most overwhelming manifestation will be furnished of the diWuity and mediatorial glory of the Son of Man. What honour will he then bring to himself ! and what happiness confer on the objects of his love ! They shall no longer be perplexed with cares, nor distressed by bereavements, nor mourn an absent Lord. " Neither can they die any more; for they are equal unto the angels." " Marvel not at this ; for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation." May we all find mercy on that day, when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that luiow not God, and that obey not the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power, when he shall come to be glorified 112 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. in his saints, and to be admired in all them that believe ! REV. DANIEL ROWLANDS OF LLANGEITHO, THE WHITEFIELD OF WALES. Daniel Rowlands was born at Llancwnlle, in the year 1713 — his father bcii:g clergyman of the parish; bnt, it is said, very careless in the discharge of hi? duties in that capacity. Daniel, although 2>ossessiug no idea whatever of the importance and responsibility of the sacred office of the ministry, was brouglit np for it by his parents as a profession; and having begun his studies early, was ordained when twenty years of age. His conduct when attending college was singu]a,rly inconsistent with his ultimate views; and was not at all altered even when he entered on the ministry. His biogra- pher tells us. There was commonly in every parish some place where the vain, the foolish, and the dissolute assem- bled; and there among them Roivlauds appeared the foremost, the liveliest, and the most active of the party, after having been in church reading, praying, and preaching in the morning ! Drunkenness, no doubt, followed. Tliough it is not said that he was notorious for that habit, yet he fell into it occasionally. The spiritual condition of Wales generally at the time was very deplorable. It had been favoured with many devoted men among its ministers; but persecution had long since silenced them in prisons, or driven them to seek refuge in other lands; while those who filled their places, instead of guiding the people in the patlis of holiness and truth, actively joined in all the irreligiou and frivolity which disgraced the period — The priest and the people were alike, both ex- tremely ignorant of religion, and wholly given up to the vanity of their own minds. Though the Bible was known, or might be known, and divine service was regularly performed in the churches, yet ig- norance and ungodhness prevailed through the whole country. Preaching, such as it was, was very scanty ; in some places not more frequent than four times in the year. Prayers were thought sufBcient ; and those were only read, and not prayed ; as if they possessed a sort of charm, which, being applied by mere read- ing, were to effect all the good intended by them. Tt was tlie bead-praying of the Papists. The common people were more mclined to go to church on Sabbath mornings than the gentry; but in the afternoons they greedily followed their amuse- ments. There was hardly a Sabbath afternoon on which they had not, in some part of the country, some place for sports. Here the youths exhibited their strength, and a great number of the people of the neighbourhood came together to look at them. On Saturday nights, especially in sunnner, the young people, both males and females, kept what was called singing-nights, and amused themselves by singing with the harp, and dancing, till the dawn of the Sabbath. In this town (Bala) the}' were usually, on the Sabbath afternoons, singing and dancing in the pubUc-houses, playing tennis under the hall, bobbing, &c. There was in every corner of the town some sport going on until night. The interludes in sum- mer were played in the loft of the hall, on the after- noons of the Sabbath ; and both the gentry and the common people thus amused themselves together, and profaned the Lord's-day. Rowlands went along with the multitude in all these things, and for five years remained minis- ter of Llangeitho, without once directing his people to Christ. Bnt at the end of that period he was signally awakened — the Lord brought him to a knowledge of the truth, and his subse- quent life formed one of the brightest instances of devotion to the cause of Christ which the re- cords of Christian biography can furnish. The circumstances which led to his conver- sion were as follows: — The Rev. Griffith Jones, an eminent itinerating preacher of the day, at one time visited the district; and it having been announced that he would preach at Lland- dewibre\'i, a place about four or five miles distant from Llangeitho, Rowlands was induced by curiosity to go and hear him. The same curiosity had attracted a large audience — for the fame of Jones, as a powerful and energetic preacher, had spread over the country — and, there being no room for them to sit down, the whole assemblage stood — Rowlands placinghim- self prominently in the centre, and expressing, by his countenance, no small measure of con- tempt. So indecorously did he conduct himself, that the attention of the preacher was repeatedly dra\vn towards him — till at last, looking sted- fastly in his face, he paused, and suspending his discourse, offered up a very earnest prayer for Rowlands, beseeching the Lord to open his heart, and to make him even yet a mighty instniment in his hand for turning many from darkness unto light. " The effectual feiwent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." He who came to mock, remained to pray, and went home an altered man ! " The proud gait had di.sappeared, and the vain talk was no longer heard. "Walking with his face towards the ground he seemed very thoughtful ;" and there- after tlie work of grace was followed up. The Lord led him by degrees till he rejoiced in the full knowledge of the trath. He seems first to have been awakened to a singularly vivid sense of his state by nature, as a sinner, condemned by the law, and imder the curse; and not seeing clearly his own in- terest in Christ, not being able to say that he was redeemed from the curse, his spiritual ex- perience for some time was of a distressing kind. Terrors overwhelmed him. And as he thought, so he preached. We are told that Awful and extremely terrific was his message; nothing but the consuming flashes and dreadful thunders of the Law, with hardly anything bke the joyful sound of the Gospel. Endless condemnation, deserved by sinners, was what he set forth with un- usual power and energy. His own spirit seemed to have been filled with great and awful terror. He appeared as if he wished to kindle the fire of hell around the transgressors of God's laWj that he might SCRIPTURE ILLUSTRATION— THE DOVE. 113 terrify them. He unfolded the indignation of Heaven against sin with amazing clearness, earnestness, and vigour. But there was no harshness in his voice nor sternness in hia countenance ; but, on the contrary, the most melting tenderness. He spoke as'one over- flowing with compassion, and under the deepest con- Tiction of hia own unworthiness. The effects of liis preaching Avcre very won- derful. The people were roused from their apatliy — thousands poured forth to hear the Word; and as, in the manner described, the preacher proclaimed the terrors of the law and the coming of the judgment, the immense as- semblages were moved — teai'S streamed down the faces of multitudes — the most thoughtless groaned in agony of soul, as if they stood on the brink of perdition — while many fell, through overwhelming fear, as if dead, upon the ground. But, as in the case of Rowlands himself, al- though thus awakened, the people were not for some time brought to the peace of the gospel. " Deep convictions of sin, and hardly anything else, were produced." " Pricked in their hearts," they cried out, " What shall we do to be saved I " And even for years the work stopped there. But in the Lord's good time a blessed change took place. The soul of Rowlands was visited with light from on high — abundant light ; and straightway, speaking from the fulness of his heart, he proclaimed to the distressed and al- most despairing multitudes the unsearchable riches of Christ . The Law he still preached, but he added the Gospel; and the eflfect was instan- taneous. Those M'ho had been broken and bowed down under the terror of the one, were made to leap for joy Ijy the blessed tidings of the other; and in proportion to the depth of their convictions was now the fulness of their joy. So wonderful was the change, that the thou- sands who gathered to hear the Gospel from Rowlands' lips are said to have returned home singing and shouting for joy — those on foot and those on horseback, men and women — so much so, that " the country around, to a considera- ble distance, re-echoed with their joyful halle- lujahs." It was at this time that the practice of leap- ing while singing the praises of God in the field first commenced in Wales. Rowlands, not well knowing how to act in reference to the prac- tice, neither encouraged nor discouraged it. Others were much against it ; and a story is told of one friend in England who wrote to Rowlands, earnestly requesting him to put a stop to the practice. Rowlands had no wish ; to say anything respecting it; but his friend returning again and again to the subject, he at last answered him as follows : " You English I blame us, the Welsh, and speak against us, and say, ' Jumpers, Jumpers.' But we, the Welsh, , have something also to allege against you ; and I we most justly say of you, ' Sleepers, Slecp- I ers.'" And whatever we may think of the I practice itself, its commencement by the Welsh is not perhaps to be wondered at, if we con- sider the very sudden transition which they ox- Ijerienced from tlie depth of conviction to the i'ulness of assurance. At all events, Rowlands was right — " better leap than sleep." Srrtjitttre Kllustratton THE DOVE. The dove is universally admitted to be one of the most beautiful objects iu nature. The brilliancy of her plumage, the splendour of her eye, the innocence of her look, the excellence of her dispositions, and the purity of her manners, have been the theme of admiration and praise in every age. To the snowy whiteness of her wings and the rich golden hues which adorn her neck the inspired Psalmist alludea in these elegant strains : " Though you have lien among the pots, yet ye shall be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yel- low gold." These bold figures do not seldom occur in the classical poets of antiquity. HER SIMPLICITY. The surprising brightness of her eye and the sim- plicity and chastity of her look, which is directed only to her mate, are selected by the Spirit of God to express the pm-ity and fidelity of a genuine believer : " Behold thou art fair, my love : behold tiiou art fair ; thou hast doves' eyes " — a faithful index of the holiness which reigns within. They neither court the notice nor meet the glance of a strange lord; they are lifted up to heaven, and stedfastly fixed on the glorious realities of a better world. Sensible of the sin and danger of casting a wishful eye on forbidden objects, the true Christian earnestly prays : " Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity, and quicken thou me in thy way;" and. Like Job, he makes a covenant with liis eyes, that Ms mind may not be polluted with an unholy thought. He looks " not at the things which are seen, but at the things that are not seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal." The same beautiful figure is employed to represent the peerless excellences of the Redeemer, and parti- cularly his infinite wisdom and knowledge, which are ever exercised for the good of his people— which are piure and holy, and in the estimation of eveiy saint, as in their own nature, ineflf'ably precious and lovely : " His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk and fitly set." The eyes of a dove, always brilliant and lovely, kindle with peculiar delight by the side of a crystal brook ; for this is her favourite haunt — here she loves to wash and to quench her thu'st. But the inspired writer seems to intimate, that, not satisfied with a single rivu- let, she delights especially in those j)laces which are watered with numerous streams, whose full llomng tide approaches the height of the banks, and ofl'ers her an easy and abundant su])ply. They seem as if they were washed with milk, from their shming whiteness ; and fitly, rather fully set, like a gem set in gold; neither too prominent nor too depressed, but so formed as with nice adajitation to fill up the socket. So precious and admirably fitted to the work of mediating between God and man ai"e the excellences of Jesus C'hi-ist. God and man in one person, he is at once invested with all the attributes of Deity, and all the perfections of which our nature is capable. As the eternal Son of God, he is wisdom and i)rudence itself; and as the Son of man, he is holy, harmless, undefiled, .and separate from sinners: " He is white and ruddy, the chief among ten thousand : yea, he is altogether lovely." 114 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. HER VOICE. The voice of the dove is peculiarly tender and plaintive, and bears a striking resemialance to the groan of a person in distress. Hezekiah, alluding to the sickness from which he had just recovered, pours out his gratitude to Jehovah in these emphatical terms : " Like a crane or a swallow, so did I chatter ; I did mourn as a dove." And the men of Judah thus deplore the bitter consequences of their sin : " We mourn sore like doves; we look for judgment, but there is none ; for salvation, but it is far off from us." In Hebrew — We groan with the groaning of a dove ; that is, -ivith a heavy and continual groaning. The Prophet Ezekiel, describing the grievous lamentations of his people in the day of their destruction, employs the same figure : " But they that escape of them shall escape, and shall be on the mountains like doves of the valley*, all of them mourning every one for his iniquity." The hoarse and mournful cooing of the dove gives a vivid idea of the low and murmuring complaints uttered by the dejected captives, dragged by their pitiless conqueror from the land of their fathers to a fiir distant and unfriendly region. To this circumstance Nahum alludes, when he predicts the desolations of Nineveh : " Huzzab shall be led away captive; she shall be brought up, and her maids shall lead her as with the voice of doves, tabering upon their breasts." THE SWIFTNESS OF HER FLIGHT. The sacred vrriters more than once allude to the flight of this bird, which they praise for its swiftness and ease. " Who are these," said Isaiah, " that fly as a cloud, and as doves to their windows ? " In this passage, he beheld in vision the captive Israehtes liberated by the decree and encouraged by the invi- tation of Cyrus, returning with the greatest alacrity to the land of their fathers ; and exulting at the sight, he cries out, with surprise and pleasure : " Who are these that fly as doves to their windows ? " The pro- phet apparently supposes that in his time buildings for the reception of doves were very conmion. And this is by no means improbable ; for when Maundrell visited Palestine, dove-cots were numerous in some parts of the country. In the neighbourhood of Ispa- han are many pigeon-houses, built for the sole pur- pose of collecting pigeons' dung for manure. The extraordinary flights of pigeons which alight upon one of those buildings, furnish a good illustration of the prophet's vision. Their great numbers, and the compactness of their mass, literally look like a cloud at a distance, and obscure the sun in their passage. In some parts of Egyiit are numerous whitened dove- cots on the tops of the houses. The dove flies more swiftly when she returns to the viindows of these cots than v/hen she leaves them; because she has- tens to revisit her young which she had left, and to distribute among them the food which she has col- lected. A similar passage occurs in Hosea : " They shall tremble as a bird out of Egypt, and as a dove out of the land of Assyria ; and I will place them in their houses, saith the Lord." They shall fly with trepidation, or like a dove trembling for its young, or alarmed for its own safety, which puts forth its utmost speed. In allusion to her extraordinary swiftness, the Psalmist says : " O that I had vnngs like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be at rest. Lo, then I would wander far off, and remain in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest." KLmchi gives it as the reason why the Psalmist prefers the dove to other birds, that while they become weary with flying, and alight upon a rock or a tree to recruit their strength, and are taken; the dove, when she is fatigued, alternately rests on one whig and flies with the other, and by this means escapes from the swiftest pursuers. The Orientals knew well how to avail themselves of her impetuous wing on various occasions. It is a curious fact, that she was long employed in those countries as a courier, to carry tidings of importance between distant cities. The manner of sending ad- vice by them was this : They took doves which had a very young and unfledged brood, and carried them on horseback to the place from whence they wished them to return, taking care to let them have a fuU view. When any advices were received, the corres- pondent tied a billet to the pigeon's foot, or under the wing, and let her loose. The bird, impatient to see her young, flew off with the utmost unpetuosity, and soon arrived at the place of her destination. These pigeons have been known to travel from Alex- andretta to Aleppo, a distance of seventy miles, in six hours, and in two days from Bagdad ; and when taught, they never fail, unless it be very dark, in which case they usually send two, for fear of mistake. HER DWELLING. Her native and original dwelling is in the cave or holes of the rock. A beautiful allusion to this fact occiu's in the Prophecies of Jeremiah, where he de- scribes the flight of the Moabites to the rocky moun- t.aius from the sword of their enemies : " O ye that dwell in Moab, leave the cities, and dwell in the rock, and be like the dove that maketh her nest in the sides of the hole's mouth." Our Lord addresses the Chm-ch, in the Song of Solomon, in similar terms : " O my dove that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely." The phrase which we render " the secret places of the stairs," may with more propriety be translated, the secret crevices of the precipitous rocks ; for the original term signifies a place so high and steep tliat it cannot be approached but by ladders. So closely pursued were the people of Israel, and so unable to resist the assault of their enemies, that, like the timid dove, they fled to the fastnesses of the mountains and the holes of the rocks. The miserable remains of the Jews that survived the de- struction of their country by the arms of Nebuchad- nezzar, are represented by the prophet as tame doves violently driven from the valleys which they had been accustomed to haunt, and wandering lonely and mournful upon the mountains, the proper abode of the wild pigeon: "But they that escape, shall escape, and shall be on the mountains like doves of the valleys ; all of them mourning, every one for his iniquity." The truth and propriety of these allusions are confirmed by the writings of several modern travellers. In Asia Minor, according to Chandler, the dove lodges in the holes of the rock; and Dr Shaw mentions a city in Africa which derives its name from the great number of wild pigeons which breed in the adjoining cliffs. It is not unconunon for shepherds and fishermen to seek for shelter in the spacious caverns of that country, from the seve- rity of the weather, and to kindle fires in them, to warm then- shivering limbs, and dress their victuals ; in consequence of which, the doves which happen to build their nests on their shelves must be fre- quently smutted, and their plumage soiled. Some have conjectm'ed that the royal Psalmist may allude to this scene, in which he had perhaps acted a part while he tended his father's flocks, in that singular promise : " Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove, covered with. silver, and her feathers Avith yellow gold." The people of Israel, who had long bent their necks to the galling yoke of Egypt, and groaned under the THE DOCTRINES OF MAYNOOTH. 115 most cruel o])i)ression, may not unfitly be compared to iv dove in the fissure of a rock, which had been terrified by the intrusion of strangers, and jiolluted by the smoke of their fires, which ascended to the roof of the cavern, and penetrated into the most re- mote and secret corner ; or by the smut of the pots which they had set over these fires for culinary pur- poses, among which she fluttered in her haste to escape. — I'axlon^s Scnj^lural Illustrations. CHRISTIAN HOPE. True hope is Jacob's staff indeed; True hope is no Egyptian reed ; That springs from inire, or else can feed On dirt or mud. By hope just men are sanctified; In the same ocean safe at anchor ride, Fearless of wreck by wind or tide, By ebb or flood. Hope's the top- window of that ark Where all God's Noalis do embark; Hope lets in sky-light, else how dark 'Were such a season ! Wouldst thou not be engulf'd or drown'd When storms and tempests gather round ? Ere thou cast anchor, try the ground; Hope must have reason. Hope halh a harvest in the spring; In winter doth of summer sing; Feeds on the fmits while blossoming. Yet nips no bloom. Hope brings me home when I'm abroau; Soon as the first step homewards trod. In hope, to thee, my God ! my God ! I come, I come. F. Teate, 1G69. THE DOCTRINES OP MAYNOOTH. As it is clear that the Protestants of the country have a struggle before them, in reference to the pro- posed national cndov/ment of the Popish College of Maynooth, we have thought that it would be well, and might perhaps prove useful, were we to present our readers with one or two short papers, showing, from the authorities and text-books in use at the College, what the Popery there tai:ght really is ; for sure we are, that if the masses of our people but knew the extreme and awful doctrines which are instilled into the mmds of the young men attending that College, and which, of course, as priests, they after^vards teach to the people, the spirit of opposition which has been I'oused against the proposed endowment would be increased tenfold. I. — PERSECUTION. 2 In a former article we gave some extracts on this subject, from Cardinal Bcllarmine and other Romish authorities, declaring that Protestants ought to be put to death, nay, that whole nations of them should be " exterminated," and " sent to their irroper place." As we have reason to know that some of our readers were greatly startled by those extracts, not having been aware that even the Chmch of Rome, drunk as she is with the blood of the saints, had so openly and unblushingly avowed her intolerance, we give one or two additional extracts on the same subject, from standards received as authoritative throughout the whole Church, viz., the decrees of the general councils — to the truth of the whole of which every priest must of necessity subscribe ; and the sentiments of which, therefore, every priest, if he be an honest man, niwt hold. 1. One of the councils acknowledged by all Papists as general and iiifalld/le, is the fourth or great La- teran. And the following is one of its decrees, lireathing the darkest spirit of intolerance and mur- der, viz. : — " That the secular powers should be admonished, and, if necessary, compeUed by ecclesiastical cen- sures, to swear that they will, to the utmost of their power, strive to exterminate from their terri- tories ALL HERETICS, declared to be such by the Church. And further, that if any temporal lord, being required and admonished by the Church, shall ntejlect to purge his territory from all taint of heresy, he shall be cxninnni/uirtitiAl by the metropolitans and other provincial bishops ; and if lie contemptuously omit to give satisfaction within a year, it shall be signified to the holy Pontifi", in order that he may thenceforth firodaini his vasmls absolved from fealty to kirn, and may expose to Catholics his territory, to be occupied by them; who, having exterminated THE HERETICS, «i«y jjoiww the same u-itltout contra^ diction.'''' Here it is declared, not only that heretics are to be " exterminated," but, moreover, that if kings do not aid. in their extermination, they shall be imme- diately dethroned for their contumacy — driven from their kingdoms, and theii- territories made over to any good thorough-going Papists who may choose to take possession ! And to the propriety of this de- cree tvery I^02jish priest mast swear! 2. By the same council it was decreed, that every bishop should " go round his diocese annually, either by himself or by his archdeacon, and sedulously investigate if any one infected with hentical contagion, lay concealed in it; and that any one who was sloth- ful and negligent in cxpurginr/ the diocese committed to him from this licnlical play xe, should he deposed from his oflice, as unworthy the pastoral ministry." This latter decree is cited by_Dens in his "Theo- logy," and given, too, in the edition used at Maynooth College, and published no farther back than the year 1832, under the sanction of Dr Muivdy, present Fopish Archbishop of Duhlin. '- 3. In the " Theology" of Dens, taught at Maynooth, we find the following (vol. viii. p. 218) : — " Are heretics jvstl y pntdshed vith death ? "St Thomas answers. Yes; hecause forgers of money, and other disturbers of the State, are justly punished with death, thinfure (dso heretics, who are forgers of the faith, and, as experience proves, grievously disturb the State. " Also in the Bull ' t',- igrn itus,'' the 1 00th pro- position is the following : — ' It is a deplorable time, in which it is believed that God is honoured by perae- cutinp the truth and its disciples. — In vain does any one flatter himself with the purity of his intentions, and his zeal for religion, if he is blinded by his own passions, or carried away by those of other men, be- cause he does not wi^h to examine. We often think 116 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. we sacrifice an impious man to God, and yet we sa- crifice a servant of God to the devil.' This 2"'opo- sition is condemned., along with the others, as false, impious,' &c., &c. ; and the Bull concludes with a COMMAND to the ' Patriarchs, bishops, and other ordinaries, also the inquisitors of heretical pravity, that they should in every way coerce and compel its CONTRADICTORS, and rebels of every kind whatsoever, by censures, and punishments, and other remedies of law and fact ; calling in, if necessary, the aid of the secular arm.'''' There can be no doubt, that had the Church of Rome still the poicer, she has still the will to carry out measiu-es, to the full as monstrous and extreme as those which have already made her infamous. For it is not true, as some ignorant or false Protes- tants would say, that " Popery is changed." Popery is not changed. In her principles she cannot change; and in her policy, if she can help it, she icill not. (1.) In her principles she cannot change. She de- clares herself to be infallible ; and admitted change would to her be destruction, as it would involve fallibility. No Papist ever asserted that the princi- ples of his Church had, on any point, changed. Every priest is bound to declare that he believes every decree of every general council infallibly right,, and the above, revolting as they are, among the rest. And that Papist who, vfhile he professes to beUeve in the infallibility of his Church, yet declares he does not believe that Protestants ought to be exterminated, is chargeable with either ignorance or dishonesty. (2.) In her jxjHcy she will not change, if she can help it. Witness Madeu'a — Maria Joaquina con- demned to death, and twenty-four others shut up in prison — for what ? Because they lean to heresy; and, according to the directions of the council, " heretics must be extirpated.'''' But Rome has not such power everywhere. In our own country she has not yet the prison and the gallows in her power. If she had, she would use them. Indeed, the only reason which any well-informed honest Papist could or would give, why the Protestants of this country are not exterminated, is just this : " We would, if we could, but we cannot; " or rather, perhaps, in the words of Bellarmine, " were we attempting it, ' more of tis would he tilled than of you;'' " therefore, in- stead of " handing you over to the executioner," we commit you to God. " Intolerance is a dormant right which sliimhers with the weakness, and awalcens with the power, of Rome.'''' * II. — VIOLATION OF OATHS. That the Church of Rome deliberately authorizes, and even encourages, the violation of promises and oaths on the part of her adherents, whenever these stand in the way of her own interests, is a position which admits of abundant and overwhelming proof. We are aware that the charge is a strong and a serious one, and not to be made lightly; but we are willing to leave the decision of its truth to any of our readers who will peruse the subjoined proofs — all from authorities and text-hooks recognised at Maynooth. I. It is expressly laid down in the sacred canons, * Townsend's Accusations of History against the Church of Rome, p. 176. New cditicn. to which every priest is sworn, that "yl^i promises are not to be kept;" that "sometimes it is not ex- pedient to keep a solemn engagement ; " that "the Pope's power absolves from an oath of fidelity;" and, that " they are not to be called oaths, but per- juries, v.hich are attempted in opposition to the in- terests of the Church." 2. The thkd Lateran Council, universally received as infallible, solemnly decreed that any oath might be broken which was "contrary to ecclesiastical utility;" that is, contrary to the interests of the Church. 3. The Council of Constance decreed that faith was not to he kept with heretics; and, carrying out that principle, persuaded Sigismund, the emperor, to au- thorize the burning of John Huss, who had come to answer to the charge of heresy, on Sigismund's ex- press and solemn promise that no injury should be done him. The following was the decree in refer- ence to his case : — " The holy Synod of Constance declares, concern- ing every safe-conduct granted by the emperor, kings, and other temporal princes, to heretics, or persons accused of hei-esy, in hopes of reclaiming them, that it ought not to he of any pircjudice to the Catholic faith, or ecclesiastical jmisdiction, nor to hinder but that such persons may and ought to be examined, judged, and punished, according as justice shall re- quire, if those heretics shall refuse to revoke their errors; although they shall have corae to the place of judgment relying on their safe-conduct, and without which they would not have come thither; and the per- son who has promised them security shall not, in this case, he ohliged to keep his promise, hy whatso- ever tie lie may have been eiigaged, when he has done all that is in his power to do." 4. The Council of Trent directly sanctioned the same principle, when, in the safe-conduct offered to Protestants, they suspended, " for that occasion," " 2rro hac riVc," the decree of the Council of Constance in favour of the lawfulness of breaking fuith with heretics; thereby, of course, impljring that the de- cree was in itself a perfectly righteous one, and that, " after this occasion," " 2wst Juinc vicem,'''' it was to resume its sway. 5. Dens, in his " Theology," lays down that the obli- gation of a promise must be held as ceasing, when " such a change of state or of matters takes place as ti,at the ptromiser may not he thought to have wished to hind himself in such an event ;^'' adding — " This is also trxie, thoughi\m promise may have been confirmed hy an oath.'''' And BaiUy, another of the chosen authorities of Maynooth, states expressly, that there is " a power vested in the Church of granting dispensations in vows and oaths." 6. In reference even to the marriage vow. Dens " Take note, that if a Roman Catholic knowingly contract marriage with a heretic, he cannot, on that head, separate himself from her, because he has re- nounced the right of divorce ; excejif, however, imless the heretic promised her conversion, and would not stand to her promise : in like manner, if the Catholic knows that he w in imminent danger of losing the faith hy cohabiting with a heretic.'''' So that if any unprincipled man is anxious to get quit of liis v.ife, he needs only afiirni that, by ro- A WORD TO PARENTS ABOUT YOUNG MEN, &c. 117 maiuiug with her, he is in diinjijer of losiii;/ tin: foilh ; and straightway the marriage is lield null and void, and he goes free ! Such is Maynooth morality ! AVe might easily extend these proofs by numerous quotations from eminent Romish writers ; but, in pre- sent circumstances, we have preferred confining our- selves to the reco(jn.iKed authorities of Maynooth. Surely it is not too much to ask — Is it for the pro- pagation of doctrines such as these that the Protes- tants of this country are to be, by statute, compelled to pay the sum of £"27,000 ii^ycar, with the ultimate prospect of a general endowment of the Popish clergy ? A WORD TO PARENTS ABOUT YOUNG MEN IN LARGE TOWNS. So much has been written and spoken regartling Young Men, that we feel some hesitation in calling attention to a subject that may be regarded by some as well-nigh thread-bare; nevertheless, as our inten- tion is not to theorize, but to point out a few practi- cal considerations, which have either been partially touched on, or altogether overlooked by more for- mal writers, we trust that our brief liints vnll be honoured with the patient perusal of all who are interested in this important section of the community. Our remarks must be understood as applying to young men sent by their parents in the country into large towns ; in whose case the family relation estab- lished by God is entirely broken up. Of course, sub- stitutes of some kind are put in place of this relation, and it shall be our duty to notice these in detail. The first asylum in which a parent wishes to place his son, on sending him to a large town, is the house of a relation or tried friend ; and jirovided the party 80 selected be possessed of proper iirmness and prin- ciple, a more eligible arriuigement could not be made. But it often happens that a variety of circumstances concur in rendering arrangements of this kind abor- tive. The parent may have known a friend in early life who was all that could be desired in point both of chiiTiicter and conduct ; but it is one of the weak- nesses of the human mind, although, no doubt, an amiable one, to be ah\'ays regarding those whom we knew in the morning of existence, as remaining ex- actly the same sort of persons ever after — and this illusion rem;uns mibroken until we come into actual contact with them. When Napoleon became the leader of the Italian army, two of his old Brienne school- fellows visited him. The first threw himself into the anus of the general, who was surrounded by his brilliant stafif. The embrace was coldly returned, and no more was heard of the enthusiastic friend. The second advanced with an air of respectful re- serve. In private he was thanked by the great man, and afterwards became his private secretary, and ultimately his biographer in the person of Bourricnne. Nobody computes the day of the month by an old almanac, and no parent should confide his son to the caro of a friend whom he may not have seen or heard of for a quarter of a century. The very compass it- self requires to be tested by the more unerring stan- dard of the sun ; and human conduct should, in like manner, be con-ected by frequent observations before important interests are confided to it. You ask your friend to take charge of your son ; why, he has ar- rived at that period of life when it is most difficult for you to manage liim ; and only think for a moment in how many respects a stranger must be inferior to yourself in aU that is likely to constitute him an elToctual overseer ! All the associations of childhood tend to cause your son to reverence your authority, but no such tie connects him to a stranger ; and then, on the other hand, how can you expect that auj' other person can feel towards your child those yearn- ings of affection wliich alone can emanate from a parent's heart ? But, defective as relative superintendence may be, if you have a prudent God-fearing friend to whom you can intrust the most valuable of all your earthly deposits, the privilege is one of inestimable value, and should be prized as such. Where the choice has been rightly made, are likely the best results to fol- low; and if this itrrangement can at all be entered into, it should take the precedence of all others. Where such friends are not known personally, appli- cation should be made to some minister, or other party of ascertained probity, who will make con- science of recommending nobody for whose proper qualifications he cannot personally vouch. And it is by no means impossible to find such persons ; on the contrary, God has so constituted the world, that all the wants of liis creatures can be reciprocally supplied. What science has developed as the economy of the physical world, experience has long since shown to be the economy of the moral world. The expressed breath and other things deleterious to animal life, have been found to be the only means of sustaining and animating the vitality of the vegetable kingdom; and so for every unprotected youth who enters a large to^vn, and who, in the solitude of its crowded streets, sighs for his early home, there will always be found those who, although death or misfortune may have famili;u'ized them with hardship, would conduct these youths to a pious firesid*, and esteem the work higher than the wages. It is in such places that we love to find the " young man from home ;" but, as in all cases of migration, one resting-place is nipver selected by the wanderers, we pass on to notice the other abodes of our young exiles. The second place where they are to be found is in their masters' houses. We caimot say that we alto- gether approve of this m,ethod, neither can we indis- criminately condemn it. Where an employer has one or two young men, and has a well-ordered house- hold, in the proper sense of the tenn, this arrange- ment, as experience has proved, may be gone into with much advantage; but where large 7i umbers of young men are congregated, we should augur any but favourable results. If bad habits once break out, the facilities that exist for their propagation in such communities are fearful to contemplate. Sin may be rebuked by a mother or sister, where it would be encouraged by a promiscuous assembly of young men; and in the family circle the young dis- ciple may venture on the " practice of piety," with the assiu-ance that if he has no other sympathy, he may reckon somewhat on the forbearance of affee- 118 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. (tion ; whereas, strong in the brotherhood of licentious- ness, the " smoking flax " of an awakened conscience might soon be ^" quenched " in an assembly of young men. The last place in which we find young men is in the hired lodging-house. A good deal has been said about the class of people who keep these houses; but from experience we think we are justified in saying, that the number of bad lodging-keepers does not ex- ceed the number of bad lodgers. We are not, there- fore, disposed to make any tirade against a class of the community quite as much sinned against as sin- ning; but as it is possible that the system may be bad apart from the individuals who support it, we shall speak freely as to its real character. The great defect of the lodging-house system consists in its ten- dency to diminish that sense of reponsibihty which operates so powerfully as a safe-guard of society. A young man arrives from the country, and receives an appointment in some given establishment. The duties, the hours of attendance, the length of en- gagement, and the salary, are all the matters which his future employer condescends to discuss with him; and having settled as to all these, the youth sallies forth in quest of his town home. He sees ticket after ticket, and ascends stair after stair, without finding a place whereon he may rest his weary foot. The good are too high, and the cheap are too cheerless. The approach of night, however, accelerates decision, and a domicile is fixed on. The employer cares not where his clerk lives, and the landlady cares not where her lodger has his place of business — the one looks for work, the other for pay. Dr Johnson long ago expatiated on the loneliness of city Ufe, and none are doomed to know it more fuUy than young men who, unknown and unbefriended, come from the country to struggle for bread in large towns. They are at no age for misanthropy, and if good company cannot be had, we greatly fear that bad will not be unsought for, especially as in towns vice throws out its allurements in all forms, in aU seasons, and at all hours. Bating his own. conscience, what check ex- ists on the young man ? Granting that he is anxious to rise in the world, what an amount of secret de- pravity may be carried on in perfect compatibility with the cultivation of the mercantile virtues ! Home check there is none. If the youth " pay his way," lodging-keepers have nothing to say ; or if they have, it is their interest to say nothing. This is a sad amount of license at a time when Pleasure is at the prow and Youth at the helm. There is great probabihty that the sense of self- respect win be blunted or destroyed, and hence the importance of preserving the delicacy of this impor- tant element of character. Living under a friendly roof, a youth could not commit those extravagances which he might run into were he living in a house which he could leave at a week's notice with the most perfect impunity. But apart from the direct control of such a roof, collateral connections are e»- tabUshed, which gradually draw the young man into salutary society, and so increase upon him the in- fluence of public opinion and of local neighbourhood. At such a juncture the Church should lay hold upon him. There is not a vein in all our population which could be more largely or more eifectively drawn on for the purpose of reci-uiting our forces of teachers, collectors, and deacons, than those young men. This want of time which is pleaded by people with families, cannot be urged by them — their time ia their own — it often hangs heavy on their hands, and many is the sigh which they set up for want of suit- able occupation. No doubt, long hours of business shorten the available space on week-days, and no effort should be spared to increase that; but the Sabbath is wholly theirs, and might be richly im- proved. Hitherto young men have forced themselves on the attention of ministers and other public men ; let the process be now reversed, and let those who toil for the world's advancement, by the spread of the Gospel, act aggressively in employing an agency so eligible in numbers and activity. Let not country ministers be content with giving, nor town ministers with receiving, a communicant's printed certificate; but let the one brother vnrite, and the other watch, regarding the walk and conversation of these local immigrants. They are the ranks from whence the next generation of the middle classes will be drawn; and thus, as the nursery of the men who constitute our nation's strength, they are worthy of attention. ' We have now only one word to say to parents, in conclusion. Unless you pray with and for your child, for the bestowal on him of that grace ivhich maketh wise unto salvation, all the human devices which you can fall upon may not protect from that city degradation which you dread with so much dis- may ; whilst, if instinct with a new nature, you may safely trust him " even in Sardis." It is too much to be feared that the vast mar jority of parents do not sufiiciently realize the solemn responsibility incm-red in training children. Long after reason has dawned, they regard them very much as playthings, and too seldom speak to them as ra- tional and immortal beings ; but when the time for separation does come, the parent may then see, al- though often too late, that the sprinkUng of religious instruction which has been commuiucated, is miser- ably inadequate to qualify them for embarking on the stormy ocean of life alone. Let pai*ents, then, seriously ponder as to the variety of ways in which the opportunities of instruction may arise, and let this incite them to vigorous, sustained, and prayer- ful efforts towards inducing their children to betake themselves to the strait gate and narrow way that lead to everlasting life. CALM, PEACE, AND LIGHT. There is a Calm the poor in spirit know, That softens sorrow and that sweetens woe ; There is a Peace that dwells within the breast When all ivithout is stormy and distress'd; | There is a Light that gilds the darkest hour, When dangers thicken and when tempests lour. That Cahn to faith, and hope, and love is given — • That Peace remains when aU beside is riven — That Light shines down to man direct from heaven ! Anon. MISCELLANEOUS. 119 NARRATIVES OF POPISH PERSECUTION. In the year 1560, the Protestants who were still left at Venice, notwithstanding the persecution, sent for a mi- nister to Ibnn them into a Church, and had the Lord's supper administered to them in a private house. But soon after this, information having been given of their meetings by one of those spies whom tlie court of Rome kept in its pay, all who failed in making tlieir escnpe were committed to prison. Numljcrs fled to the pro- vince of Istria; and after concealing themselves there for some time, a p;irty of them, amounting to twenty- three, purchased a vessel to carry them to a foreign country. When they were about to set sail, an avaricious foreigner, Avho had obtained a knowledge of tlieir design, preferred a claim before tlie magis- trates of the place against three of them for a debt which he alleged they owed him, and failing in his object of extorting the money, accused them as heretics who lied fi'om justice; in consequence of which they ^vere arrested, conveyed to Venice, and lodged in the same prisons with their brethren. Hitherto tlie senate had not visited the Protestants with capital punishment ; though it would appear that, before this period, the inquisitors had, in some instances, prevailed on the local magistrates of the remoter provinces to gjratify them to that extent. But now the senators yielded to those counsels which they had so long resisted ; and acts of cruelty com- menced, Avhich continued for years to disgrace the criminal jurisdiction of the republic. Drowning was the njode of death to Avhich they doomed the Protes- tants, either because it was less cruel and odious than committing them to the flames, or because it ac- corded with the customs of Venice. But if the untos cle fe of the Queen of the Adriatic were less bar- barous than those of Spain, the solitude and silence with which they were accompanied were calculated to excite the deepest horror. At tlie dead hour of midnight, the prisoner wa,s taken from his cell, and put into a gondola or Venetian boat, attended only, beside the sailors, by a single priest, to act as con- fessor. He was rowed out into the sea, beyond the Two Castles, where another boat was in waiting. A plank was then laid across tlie two gondolas, upon which the prisoner, havmg his body chained, and a heavy stone affixed to his feet, was placed ; and, on a signal given, the gondolas retiring from one another, he was precipitated into the deep. Dr M'Crie gives the following account of a few who suffered by this mode of execution : — - The first person who appears to have suffered mar- tyrdom at Venice, was .lulio Guirlauda, a native of the Trevisano. When set on the plank, he cheerfully bade the capt;un farewell, and sank into the deep calling on the Lord .lesus. Antonio Ricetto, of Vicenza, was held in such respecc, that, subsequently to his conviction, the senatoi-s offered to restore him not only to his liberty, but also to the whole of his property, part of which had been sold, and the rest promised away, provided he would conform to the Church of Home. The firmness of Ricetto was put to a still severer test : his son, a boy of twelve years of age, having been admitted into the prison, fell at his feet, and supplicated hun, in the most melting strains, to accept of the offers made him, and not leave his child an orphan. The keeper of the prison baring told him one day, with the view of inducing hira to recant, that one of his companions had yielded, he merely replied : " What ia that to me I-" And m the gondola, and on the plank, he retained his firm- ness ; prayuig for those who ignorantly put him to death, and commending his soul to his Sariour. Francesco Sega, a native of Rorigo, composed several pious works during his confinement, for the comfort of his fellow-prisoners, part of which was preserved after his death. Francesco Spinula, a native of the Milanese, being a priest, was more severely questioned than his brethren. He was thrice brought before the judges, and on one of these occasions the Papal legate and a number of the chief clergy attended. In their presence, and when threatened with a fiery death, he professed openly the articles of the Protes- tiuit faith, and boi-e an explicit tcstimonj' against the usurjiations of the Pope, the doctrine of purgatory, and tlie invocation of saints. During a fit of sick- ness, brought on by the length and rigour of his con- finement, some concessions were extorted from him ; but on his recovery he instantly retracted them, and being formally degi'aded from the priesthood, ob- tained the same watery grave with his brethren. But the most distinguished of those who suffered death at Venice, was the venerable Fra Baldo Lupe- tino. The foUovring account of him by his nephew, in a book now become very rare, deserves to be pre- served entire : — " The reverend Baldus Lupetinus, sprung from a noble and ancient family, was a learned monk, and prorincial of the order to which he belonged. After having long preached the Word of God in both the vulgar languages (the Italian and Sclavonian) in many cities, and defended it by pubhc disputation in several places of celebrity with gi-eat applause, he was at last thrown into a close prison at Venice, by the inquisitor and Papal legate. In this condition he continued, during nearly twenty years, to bear an undaunted testimony to the Gos- pel of Ciirist; so that his bonds and doctrine were made known, not only to that city, but to the whole of Italy, and even to Europe at large ; by which means evangelical truth was more widely spread. Two things, among many others, may be mentioned as marks of the singular providence of God towards this ])erson during his imprisonment. In the fivft place, The princes of Germany often interceded lor his libe- ration, but wthout success; and, second I ii, On the other hand, the Papal legate, the mquisitor, and even the Pope himself, laboured with all their might, and by repeated applications, to have him, from the very first, committed to the flames, as a noted heresiarch. This was refused by the. doge and senate, who, when he was at last condemned, freed him from the pu- nishment of the fire by an express decree. It was the will of God that he should beai' his testimony to the truth for so long a time ; and that, like a person affixed to a cross, he should, as from an eminence, proclaim to all the world the restoration of Chris- tianity and the revelation of Antichrist. At last, this pious and excellent man, whom neither threat- enings nor promises could move, sealed his doctrine by an undaunted martyrdom, and exchanged the filth and protracted tortvu-es of a prison for a watery grave. — J/'C'j/c's Refonnation in Italy. fHisccUancous. The Proper" End of Religion. — Let us never hojie to make anything more than heaven by our re- ligion, nor ever be content to take anything less. — Mdttlitw Uenoj. PROsPKRixy UNFAVorRAni.E TO Religion. — They who lie soft and warm in a rich estate, seldom come to heat themselves at the altar. — SovXh. Ill-con.inselves too easily forget the rock out of which they have been hewn, and seek to cover, as with a veil, the natural corruption of their hearts? Would that God oftener sounded in our ears that cry of anxiety -which one of the truest servants of God gave vent to in his cell, with sighs and tears : " Oh, my sins ! my sins! my sins !" * Willingly do we admit that all men are not ecpially punishable with the thief— that before the eyes of the world perhaps no one of us is so great a transgressor as he ; but we maintain, • The reference here is to Luther in Erfurt. Mai/ 9, 1845. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. iiotv.'ithstaiidinfr, that sin in all of us is fear- fully <>reat — ay, great enough to exclude us for •ever trom all counnuuioii with God iu heaven. Tliere were three separate ways in which llie thief ackuowledged the great)iess of his sin ; threefold is also the manner in which we ought to acknowledge the greatness of ours. 1. The thief finds it first bt his conscience. Conscience is awrJcened — it sjieaks — it tells him of his sins, aud cries : " We receive the due reward of our deeds." Learn, from this, to acknowledge your sins. Give, I pray j-ou, an attentive ear to both voices which your con- science lets- you hear — the one which tells you what you should have done, and the other which reminds you of what you have done : the one which speaks to you of righteousness, of truth, of love to God, of compassion, of meek- ness, of huniility, of self-denial, of purity, of charity; and the other, which tells you of all that you have done. You have, in no par- ticular, fulfilled God's holy commandment. Forgetfulness of God, unrigliteousness, lying, hardness of heart, pride, impurity, anger, faith- lessness in all your duties, deification of your- self— here see the inmost recesses of your nature, and the true image of your life. Oh ! descend, were it only once, with the thief into the depths of your conscience, and that sin which seemed to you so small in the cutwaid and superficial survey of your life, will then appear to you in its true gi-eatness, filling you with shame, and with the consciousness that you are indeed worthy of condemnation. 2. All this the thief had read in his con- science ; and then he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and felt fall upon himself from thence the judgment of God. " Dost thou not fear God?" were his words. Yes; it is upon the condemning sentence which God in his Word has pronounced against sin that we must look, to discover its greatness ; for what is it that God testifies of the sin >vhich is in us ? He says : "Death is the wages of sin." "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." What, then, must sin appear in God's sight, if he finds it necessary, for the satisfaction of his righteoiisness, to punish it with eternal death? But yoii say. By such a standard I cannot be tried; as I am unable to conceive that sin begun in this short life shall really be punished through all eter- nity. This you cannot comprehend. And yet, brethren, if that which you conceive exag- gerated and magnified be tlie clear verdict of the Word of God, will you dare to e?ialt yourself against God's justice, and against the sentence of his law, before you have explored all the mysterious depths of the divine nature, and all tlie secrets of his glorious kingdom ? for how can one judge of things which, to us, are beyond our comprehension? Have you first sought for that wisdom which may enable you to under.jtand the ways of Him whose ways are not as our ways — to kuov/ all the evil ;vhich lies concealed in sin, so that you can with assurance affirm that no evil would accrue to the whole creation, in the event of the Lord of the universe letting his holy commands be broken with impunity? Have you sought for this wisdom ? — then judge, if you will, the divine justice — place your judgment against the judgment of the Almighty; then summon your Judge from this his judgment-seat, and place yourself iu his room. "Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without know- ledge?" says the eternal God. "Ah, Lord! I know that I have s^'oken foolishly, what is too Iiigh for me, and v.-liat I do not understand." 3. But did it really need this looking into the heights of heaven above, or into the deptln of the earth beneath? At his side the thie' hears another voice sounding, which convince- him more clearly than all his sins. It does n.ot appear that this thief ever felt any true repent- ance until he had been nailed to the cross. But since he has been hanging there, by the side of the crucified Sa\'iour, and been made to v.itness his meekness and patience in the midst of all his sufi'erings, and heard his all-compas- sionate prayer to his Father for his murderers — since ail this, what a new light has da^vncd upon his soul ! He who is here elevated upon the cross at his side, and whom he heard testify of things unheard of before, can he really be the person to whom the prophets referred — of whom Isaiah said, that he should " be num- bered with the transgressoi's ?" Can he really be the Holy One of Israel? This thoi-ght made him tremble ; for the innocence of Christ is an accusation against himself. Placed at the side of a Being so pure and holy, he feels himself all the more guilty and sinful ; the consciousness of all his sins starts up in his soul afresh, and tliis humbles and condemns him. " This man," says he, " has done nothing amiss: and we indeed justly — for we receive the due reward of our deeds." O you for whom God gave up his Son to die, and whom he has not yet fully brought to tliis knowledge! see that it is Christ's death, above all things, that teaches you to acknow- ledge the greatness of your sins. Measure the greatness of your guilt by the greatness of tlie sacrifice by which it is atoned. JNIust not that corruption into which our sin has sunk us be deep indeed, seeing that the Lord, tlie almighty God, has revealed such a wondrous j^lan to save us from it? JNIust not our sin a.nd its punishment be alike infinite, inasmuch as an infinite Being took it upon himself to take it away? Come, then, you unconverted sinners, come to the cross on Golgotha! What has caused it to be erected on this accirsed spot? Your sins ! What has caused the divine coun- tenance to be darkened? Your sins! What is it that carries the holy spirit of the Saviour into the bitter struggle of death ? Eveu your sins! And this sin, which in this hour of darkness was so indiscribably gi'eat, can it ever agaiti appear small in your eyes I or THE THIEF ON THE CROSS. 123 rather, must you not ever anew he brought to confess the greatness of your sinfulness in the light of tliis cross? J I. Uut if a true conception of the greatness of our sins is so unuttera,l)ly important for us, so also is a true knowledge of the great- ness of the love of Chrkt not move indispensable. That doctrine which lessens sin, lessens also the mercy of Jesus Christ. If the evil be un- important, so also is the salvation; but the greater the evil, the greater the work of him who saves us from it. Those who hold that the natural powers of man Iiave not been completely incapacitated by the fall from doing good, conceive that those powers can, and ought, to contribute sometliing to the restoration of man to the favour of God. In that case, however, Jesus is no longer the Saviour — he is merely a helper; for a hel])er's duty is to support him who possesses power of Ills own, but a Saviour comes "to seek and to save that which was lost." Our Church recog- nises the fulness of the work, and tlie love of Christ. It expressly declares, that it is God alone from whom our justilication comes; and it places the foundation of this solely on the merits of Christ, exclusive of any conjunction of merit on the part of man; so that, if (rod gives etei'ual life, he thereby presents to the sinner a free gift of his grace, instead of visit- ing iiim, as he deserves, witli condtiiniatioa and death. This, brethren, the case of the saved thief shoukl ma!ce manifest to you^rcvealing the entire greatness and jwwer of the love of Christ, with which he blesses the souls wliich have been lost by reason of sin. The thief knows that there is nothing good in him; but he lielieves that Jesus, wlio liere hangs and dies on tile cross, goes to enter upon tliat king- dom which was promised to the Messiah. lie; does not beseech him to save him for this worUl, by restoring to him tliis transitory life \\'ii\\ its deceitful joys; but he has complete confidence in him, that he will save him " from the wratli to come.*' He turns his head towards him — he directs the look of astonislunent and faith at his cross, and cries: " Lord, remember me when tliou comest into thy kingdom ! " and the answer is contained in that memorable saying of our Lord: "Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Perhaps, brethren, you have often said. If my sins wei-e so great, who could save me from them i The more their greatness has been made known to me, the more is my misery increased. It haunts me on all sides — it casts me down; and wliere is the power that can save me amid sucli sun which now shines may not really be shining for (he last time? Then, let all be done to-day; for to-morrow may be, ])orhaps, no time for you. " To-day, if you will hear his voice, harden nut your liearts." Lord Jesus! who didst, a-s a token of ality. And theresults were soon seen over the whole country. Tlu; crowds wlio came from these distam.-es, like thos(; who, in days of old, went down for corn to J'-gvpt, returned home laden with the bread of life, not mily for themselves, but for their friends who had stayed behind; and thus all were fed. A revival took place, wlii(;h spread over all the counties of Soutii Wales; and as tiie Si)irit of God moved of old on the face of chaos, transforming its confusion into the order and beauty which now mark our system; so there, moving in the hearts of men, the whole face of society was ciuinged, and ' multitudes who all their days had lived in for- , getfulness of (iod, and in heedless violation I of his law, were now numbered among his re- j deemed and pooiliar people, and, by their lives I and conversations, adorned the profession of the Gospel. EARLY RISING AND PRAYER. "Whe.n first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave To do the like ; our bodies but forerun Tiie sjjirit's duty ; true hearts spread and heave Unto their ( lod, as dowers do to the sun : Give Ilini thy first thoughts, then, so shalt thou keep Him company all day, and in Him sleep. Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer should Dawn with the day : these are set awful hours 'Twixt heaven and us: the manna was not good After sunrising; for day sullies flowers: Rise to prevent the sun ; sleep doth sins glut, And heaven's gates open when the world is shut. Wallc with thy fellow-creatures ; note the hush And whisperings amongst them. Not a sprlu;» Or leaf but hath his morning hymn ; each bu?h And oak doth know I AM ! — Canst thou not sin^? Oh ! leave tliy cares and follies ! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day. Serve God before the world; let Him not go Until thou hast a blessing; tlien resign The whole unto Him, and remember who Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine Pour oil upon the stones, seek sin forgiven. Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven Mornings are mysteries : the first world's yout!i, Man's resurrection, and the future's bud, Shroud in their birtlis; the crown of life, light, truth. Is styled their star — the stone and hidden food : Three blessings wait upon them, one of whicli Should move — they make us holy, happy, rich. When the world's up, and every swarm abroad. Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay; Despatcli necessities ; life hath a load Which nmst be carried on, and safely may : Yet keep tliose cares without thee; let the heart Be God's alone, and choose the better part. Vaugiian. THE DOCTRINES OF MAYNOOTH. PART 11. " MORTAL " AND " VEMAI, " SINS. There is not, perhaps, in the whole Romish system anything more utterly oppooed to tlie V.'ord of (iod, or more destructive to tlie interests of morality, thvm its well known doctrine of the distinction between hwrtal and vcuial sins. Tlie Word of God declares that " whosoever com- mitteth sin" (not a great, or heinous, or aggravated sin, but " ,<('/(."— sin generally, in any form, or to any extent) " transgresseth also the law; for sin is the transgression of the law." And he who, in anything, even the sliglitest, transgresses that law, is declared to be exposed to the curse which has been given fortli by God as its sanction; for " cursed is every one that conthmetli not in all TUiNOn which are written in the book of the law to do them.'' " The wages of si)i is death." " The soul that sinneth, it shall f//c." And " he that otbndeth in one point is guilty of u?/." The reason of this is obvious. Every sin, whether more or less heinous, of necessitv involves 128 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. a denial of God^s^ sovereign and rigliteous authority. When man sets himself against the law, he sets himself also against the lawgiver; and therefore sin, iu its essence, is just an attempt to subordinate God's authority to man's ivill. God says, in his law, " Tliou shalt not," — man says, when in any point he dis- obeys that law, " I shall." And thus, hewould exalt himself above God. It will not do to say that the matter of a particu- lar sin may be in its nature trifling — that, according to conmion phrase, it is " a little sin," and therefore not deserving of punishment. Such an idea proceeds from entire ignorance or forgetfulness both of the character of God, as so infinitely holy a Being that he is "of purer eyes than even to behold evil;" of the cliaracter of the law, as in itself and in all its re- quirements, " holy, and just, and good," a transcript of the divine perfections, and no more admitting of relaxation than these; and of the 2Msilion of man as a being created iu the image of God, and bound, by every consideration of duty, to love the Lord his God with all his soul, and strength, and mind. 1. God can demand nothing less than jjerfect obedience; and " to say that he may convert the curse of the law into some lesser penalty, because man by depravity is unable to keep it, is just to say that God holds himself respon- sible for man's corruption." 2. The law can he satis- fied with nothing less than ftrfect obedience. A law that should tolerate its ov/n transgression m any one particular were self-destructive; and the toleration of sin, however small, by a holy law, is a contradic- tion in terms. 3. Man is hound to give nothing less. This follows as a consequent. He is bound both by the holiness of the law, and by the authority of God. If God's right is to demand perfect obedience, then man's duty is to render it. He ought to render it, as the creature to the Creator, as the subject to the Sovereign, as the chUd to the Father, knowing, as he does all the time, that God requires nothing ivhich is either wrong or unreasonable. His " commands are not grievous." Indeed, the more trivial the matter in connection with which sin is committed, the less excuse is there for its commission. It was no excuse for the sin of our first parents, that it consisted merely in their eating a piece of fruit. That was what some might call a " trivial sin;" but it did not appear so in the eye of Him whojudgcth righteously; for He has told us, that in consequence of that sin, death has passed upon us all. Indeed the authority of God seems to be more despised by the commission of small sins, than by the commission of great ones. " Doth it not argue great contempt of God, when you will not obey him in a matter that you yourselves count small and inconsi- derable ? When we sin we flatter ourselves straight with this, ' Is it not a little one ? ' But if it be but a little one to commit, it is but a little one to refrain from. It is an aggravation of sin, rather than an excuse, to say, our sins arc but little ones. It sliows a heart hardened against God, and shows a great con- tempt of all that he can say to us, or do against us, when we choose rather to break his commands, and despise his power, 'wrath, and justice, than forego our little sins." * * Bishop Hopkin's Works, i. ?9G. Very different is the doctrine taught by the Church of Rome, and taught, as we shaU see, at JIaynooth. She has sins which her children may commit with comparative impunity, without at all coming under that curse which God has denounced against the transgressors of his la-w, and v.-ithout any fear of that " wrath " which is " declared from heaven " against " all unrighievusness /" She distinguishes between sins mortal and sins -venial ; the former, she says, de- serving the v.Tath of God, and the latter «o< desc-ning it ! And the list of venial sins is such, that a man might almost live a lifetime and never be guilty of a mortal one ! Will it be believed— a Papist may steal, and lie, and get dmnh, and all the while, accord- ing to Maynooth theology, do nothing for which a pure and holy God might dismiss him for ever from his presence ! That here we are not exaggerating Tifill abundantly appear from the subjoined passages from Dens and Bailly, for which we entreat the care- ful perusal of our readers. We believe that many of them are not aware of the fearful liberties which Rome takes with the unchangeable, because holy, law of God. Dens first states that there are two kinds of sin — mortal and venial. He then proceeds thus : — " What is mortal sin ? — It is that which of itself brings spiritual df ath to the soul. " What is vernal sin ? — That which docs not bring spiritual death to the soul, or that which does not turn away from its ultimate end, ox vrhich is only slightly repugnant to the order of right reason. " Is venial sin allov/ed ? — It is certain, not only from the divine compassion, but from tlie nature of tlie thing, that venial sins, or so slight ones as in just men may consist with a state of grace and friend- ship with God, are allowed." The question, then, of com-se, arises, What particu- lar shis are morted, anft what are venial ? and the answer given by Dens is as follows :• — " Some rules are everywhere assigned by theolo- gians by which it can generally be discovered what sins are in then- own nature mortal or venial. Steyaert assigns one : — " When Scripture speaks of any sin in severe terms, that is to be considered mortal. For example, if it calls it scelus, najuiiia, ini(/)iiias, aliominatio, or says that it is worthy of death, hated by God, that it ex- cludes from the kingdom of God, that it cries to heaven ; if there be j^refixed, ' Alas ! ' &c. On the contrary, that sin is considered to be venial, when Scripture uses milder expressions, as if it employs the word 'mote,' 'stubble,' 'hay,' &c., or but slightly blames it (!); as, 'In the multitude of words there waateth not sin' (Prov. s. 1.9) ; and, ' Every idle word that men shall speak, they sliall give an account thereof in the day of judgment.' — Matt. vii. 36. " What sin is said to be venial in its ovra nature ? — That which, on its own account, cannot be mortal, unless the malice of some other account be added. Thus an idle word is, of its own nature, a venial sin; also A JOCOSE OR OFricious LIE, excess in laughter, in joy, or sorro^v, vain curiositj', &c., are of their own nature venial sins, because, unless the circumstances of some other account be added, they cannot be mortal. " What sin is called venial on account of imper- fect deliberation, or imperfection of the will ? — That which of its own nature is mortal, but in this act, here and noiv, is only venial through defect of suffi- cient free-will. Those that are venial in this way are THE DOCTRINES OF MAYNOOTII. 129 ! the early modoHSof luxtin/, liaircd, &c. ; also through i slight negligence in curtailing the reading of the Canonical Hours; a violation of fasting through ig- I norance or inadvertence, which might have been overcome; thoughts concerning an object mortally bad without full consent, &c. ; such also are motions of hatred, affkctions of homicide, &c., iu those half asleep. " In every matter or in every kind of sin, can sin be venial from the imperfect deliberation of the act ? — In this state of fallen nature it seems to be affirmed 80; however, some except hatred of God; but al- though that caimot be excused from mortal sin by ignorance, wliich must be very great, yet it may be excused from other causes; for example, by vehement passion imperfectly considered, by inadvertence, &c. " What sin is called venial from the smallness of the matter ? — That which of its own nature is mortal sin, but in this act, here and now, is venial on account of the smallness or lightness of the matter about which it is concerned; thusTHE theft of one penny IS venial from the smallness of the matter; also, in relating a defect slightly blameworthy to withhold part of the fault, a trifling excess in drinkino, a Toluntary distraction in a small part of a divine office," kc. The doctrine of these extracts is deplorable and revolting. There is lirst the God-dishonouring dis- tinction between different kinds of sin, to which we have already adverted ; and then there is the list of sins which are too venial to deserve the curse of God ! And such a list ! A man may lie, and hate, and meditate murder, and steal, and go to excess IN DRINK; nay (if, in a vehement passion !), may indulge hatred of God, and yet be guilty only of tenial or trifling sin! Such is the doctrine held by the Church of Rome — such is the doctrine taught at Maynooth, and such is the doctrine which Bri- tish Protestants are to pay for propagating! To complete its profanity we may add, that while such enormities are held to be but veu ial sins, it is reckoned a mortal sin to entjlesh on a t riday ! That would be to transgress the law of the Church; whereas, in the others, it is oji/y the law of God that is transgressed. From the Moral Theology of Bailly, we extract the following cool and outspoken passage on this same subject of venial sins. Will any man with an understanding or a conscience, pretend to say that distinctions and calculations like the following are to be found in the Word of God ? — " How great must be the quantity of the thing stolen, in order to constitute the theft a mortal sin ? — The quantity cannot easily be determined, iince nothing has been decided on the point, either iu natural, divine, or human law. Some are of opinion that the quantity necessary for the maintenance of an individual for one daii, in a manner suitable to his station in the world, is sufficient to make the theft a mortal sin. Others think that it requires a quan- tity which, everytiiiiig considered, inflicts a r/rievous injury on our neighbour, and deprives him of some- thing particularli/ useful. A loss, however, which in respect of one— a rich man, for ijistance — is slight, in respect of a poor man may be considered heavy. The same quantity in all thefts cannot, therefore, be as- signed as constituting the subject-matter of mortal sin. " Hence theologians are accustomed to distinguish men into four ranks. The first Tank consists of the illustrious, who live in splendour. The second, of those who live on their own estates, but not so splen- didly—such as ar© moderately rich. The third, of artificers, who support themselves by their o'wn labour and handicraft. The fourth, of the poor, who i)ro- vide for themselves by begging. It m generall// laid dotcn, and it may he laid doicu as determined, that in order to a thefCs being a mortal sin when committed 071 persons of the first rank, fifty or sixty 2yence are siiffi- cieiit. In fact, this appears to be a sufficient sum with reference to all men, even princes; because this sum of money is considerable in itself, and might be of service to princes, since it would be sufficient for the pay of several soldiers for one da}'. With respect to persons of the second vM\V,fort)i pence are enough. With respect to persons of the tnird rank, if their trade be a very lucrative one, twenty pence; if less lucrative, ten j^ence. AVith respect to persons of the fourth rank [i.e., ■paupei-a], four jtence, or even one penny if they hare nothing else to live on." So that, according to this Maynooth authority, a Christian Papist may steal four shillings from a prince, three shillings from a wealthy citizen, eighteenpence from a tradesman, and threepence from a beggar, and yet do nothing at all calculated to lessen or interrupt his " friendship with God ! " — do nothing to bring down upon lum the curse of the law wliich demands obedience in cdl things — do nothing which requires to be even confessed to his priest ! And this same Bailly, who deliberately gives forth such statements, was held up before the Commis- sioners of Irish Education Inquiry as one thoroughly sound in his principles of morality ! Dr Anglade, the Professor of Moral Theology at Maynooth, and in whose class Bailly's treatises formed the test-book, on beuig asked by the Commissioners, " Do you con- ceive that there is any peculiar character that be- longs to the views that were taken of moral theology by the Jesuits ?" replied, " I tliink not; but if there is anything that is called lax jM'inciples of morality, I am sure Bailly is fret from them." Another question is started by Romish casuists, with the answers to which we will for the present conclude. It is this — May a man go on committing venial sins of the same nature with impunity, or will a number of venials go to make up one mortal ? Tho answer is as follows : — " Many small matters of theft being taken, coalesce in order to constitute a great sin of unjust detention, or injury of a neighbour. Likewise on the same fast- day often to cat some small thing ; on the same feast- day often to perform light servile works; often, in divine office of the same day, to be a little distracted voluntarily, or to omit some small part — all coalesce respectively into one great matter." Again : — " Do the matters of small thefts or injuries, com- mitted during the time of a whole life, coalesce ? — More 2>robalily so, except meanwhile some injuries be repaired, pardoned, or made ameniU for, according to the intention of the owners, by alms ; for men are not accustomed to require so exact a restitution of small injuries, but are considered to pardon in turn those very small things after the fact, or, at least, to agree that according to their intention they may be given to the poor; and therefore pious men often give to the poor some alms even from this intention, that they may make satisfaction, if by chance they owe anything to any one. Observe, then, that in- juries repaired, pardoned, or made amends for, do not coalesce, because they uo longer in any way exist." Now, what doctrine hare we here, but just this, ISO THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. that if a man sliould steal anything from his neigh- bour, the sin of the theft is atoned for whenever he pays back the sum lie stole, or wlien his neighbour forgives him for stealing it. There is ko word of sin against God— li is only an injury done to man, with which, when so far repaired, God has nothing to do ! Again he says : — " If any one often slightly exceeds in drinking, those slight excesses do not coalesce in reason of the sin of drunkenness; because, although they oppose the same precept of temperance, they have not respect, however, to a transgression morally one ; the reason of which seems to be, because they do not consist in a permanent thmg, and cannot coalesce into oiie matter. Those slight excesses can., however, coalesce in reference to loss of health or family ; be- cause in relation to loss they are something per- manent. Slight injuries or acts of detraction against different men do not constitute mortal sin, but many ■ venial sms. Nevertheless many slight injuries of the character of the same man, community, or family, seem to coalesce ; and so if these small injuries, taken together, constitute a very heavy loss, a mortal sin has been committed. The same may be said of many slight blov/s by which any one at length much injures the body of another." Who can read such extracts without being forcibly reminded of the features of Antichrist, as foretold in the Word of God : " He shall speak great words against the Most High, and shall thmk to change times and laws." Dan. vii. 25. " In the latter times some shall depart from the faith, . . . spealimj lies in hypocrisy, having their consciences scared with a hot iron." 1 Tim. iv. 1, 2. MERCY TEMPERING JUSTICE. Thy mercy. Lord, is like the morning sun, Whose beams undo v/hat sable night hath done ; Or like a stream, the current of whose course, Restrained a while, runs with a swifter force; Oh, let me glow beneath those sacred beams. And after bathe me in these silver streams I To thee alone my sorrows shall appeal ; Hath earth a wound too hard for Heaven to heal ? QUARLES. A STORY OF THE PLAGUE. {From VinccnCs Account of the Phujne of London in 166.5.) It was generally observed among-st us, that God's people who died by the plague among the rest, died vni\\ such peace and comfort as Christians do not ordinarily arrive unto, exce]it when they are called forth to suffer martyrdom for the testimony of Jesus Christ. Some who have been full of doubts, and fears, and complaints, whilst they have lived and been well, have been filled with assurance, and comfort, and jn-aise, and joyful expectation of glory, when they have lain on their death-beds by this disease. And not only more grown Christians, who have been more ripe for glory, have had these comforts, but also some younger Christians, whose acquaintance with the Lord hath been of no long standing. I can speak something of mine own knowledge concerning some of my friends, whom I have been withal. I shall instance only in the house where I lived : We were eight in family — three men, three youths, an old woman, and a maid ; all which came to me, hearing of my stay in town — some to accom- pany me, others to help me. It was the latter end of September before any of us were touched ; the young ones were not idle, but improved tlicir time in praying and hearing, and were ready to receive in- struction, and were strangely borne up against the fears of the disease and death every day so familiar to their view. But at last v>'e were visited, and the plague came in di-eadfully uj3on us; the cup was put into our hand to drink, after a neighbour family had tasted it, wth whom we had much sweet society in this time of sorrow. And first our maid was smitten. It began vrfth a shivering and trembling in her flesh, and quickl}'- seized on her spirits. It was a sad diiy, which I believe I shall never forget. I had been abroad to see a friend in the city, whose husband was newly dead of the plague, and she herself visited with it ; I came back to see another, whose wife was dead of the plague, and he himself under apprehensions that he should die within a few hours ; I came home, and the maid was on her death-bed, and another crying out for help, being left alone in a sAveating fainting fit. What was an interest in Christ worth then ! What a privilege to have a title in the king- dom of heaven ! But I proceed. It was on the Monday when the maid was smitten — on Thursday she diad full of tokens. On Friday one of the youtlis was seized, and on the Lord's-day died with the marks of the dis- temper upon him ; on the same day another youth did sicken, and on the Wednesday following he died; on the Thursday night his master fell sick of the disease, and within a da^ or two v/as full of spots, but, strangely beyond his own and others'" expecta- tions, recovered. Thus did the plague follow us, and came upon us one by one : as Job's messengers csmie one upon the heels of another, so the messengers of Death came so close one after another, in such dread- ful manner, as if we must all follow one another im- mediately into the pit. Yet the Lord in mercy put a stop to it, and the rest were preserved. But that which was very remarlcable m this visitation, was the carriage especially of those youths that died, who I believe were less troubled themselves than others vrere troubled for them. The first youth that was visited, being asked by his father about the provision he had made for his death and eternity, told him he hoped, if he died, he should go to heaven; being asked the grounds of his hopes, he said, the Lord had enabled him to look beyond the vt'orld; and when he was drawing near to his end, boldly inquired whether the tokens did yet appear, saying, that he ■« as ready for them ; and so a hopeful bud was nipped. But let not the father or the mother weep, and be in sadness for him ; he is, I do not doubt, with their Father and his heavenly Father, which may be their comfort. The other also v/as a very sweet and hopeful youth, so loving and towardly, that he could not choose but attract love from those that were acquainted with him ; but the grace he had gotten in those years — being, I suppose, under seventeen — did above all beautify him, and stand him in the greatest stead. In his sickness he had much quiet and serenity upon his spirit, and lay so unconcerned at the thoughts of ap- proaching death, that I confess I marvelled to see it; the sting and fear of death were strangely taken out, through the hopes which he had of future glory; yet once he told his mother he could desire to live a little longer, if it were the will of God. She asked him why he desired it If he told her, he desired to live till tire and faggot came — and, above all, he would fain die a martyr. She said, if he died now, he should have a crown; he ansAvercd, but if he died a martyr he should have a more glorious crown — yet he was not un^nlling to receive his crown ]iresently. And he went aAvay, with great peace and sweetness in his looks, to his Father's house ; and I could not blame BASKET OF FRAGMENTS. 13] the mother's grief lor tlse loss of such an only son; hut to be so iuiiiKHlenite, vas not well. Now I am sure it is time to dry up tears, and lay aside sorrows for the loss of him who luith been so long filled with joys in the heavenly mansions. 1 might sjieak of the ci-.rriage of the master in his sickness, under the appreliensions of death. AVhen the spots did appear on his body, he sent for me, and desired me to pray with him ; told me he was now going home, desired me to write to his friends, and let them know " that it did not repent him of his stay in the city, though they had been so importunate with him to come awa)'; but he hud found so much of (lod's presence in his abode here, that he had no reason to rejient." He told me where he would be buried, and desired me to preach his funeral sermon on Psalm xvi. last : " In thy presence is fulness of joy, and at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore." But the Lord raised him again, beyond the expectation of himself, friends, or physicians. Let him not forget God's mercies, and suffer too much worldly bushiess to croAvd in upon him, and choke the ronembrance and sense of God's goodness so singular; but let him show by his singularity in meekness, humility, self-denial and love, zeal and holy walking, that the Lord hath been singularly gracious unto him. But when I spcalc of home- concernments, let me not forget to look abroad. The jilague now incrcaseth exceedingly, and fears there are amongst us, that within a ■vviiile there ivill not be enough .-live to bury the dead, and that the city of London wUl now be quite depopulated by this plague. Now some ministers (formerly put out of their places, who did abide in the city, when most of ministers in place were fled, and gone from tiie people as well as from the disease, into the countries) see- ing the people croAvd so fxst i>ito the grave and eternity, >vho seemed to cry as they went, for spiri- tual physicir.ns; and perceiWng the churches to be open and pulpits to be open, and finding pamphlets flung about the streets of jmlpits to be let; they judged tliat the law of God and nature did nou- dis- pense with, yea, command their preaching in public l)laces, though the law of man (as it is to be supposed in ordinary cases) did forbid them to do it. That they were called by the Lord into public, I suiipose that few of any seriousness will deny, wlien the l^ord did so eminently owe them, in gi\'ing many seals of their ministry unto them. Now they are preaching, and every sermon was unto them as if they were preaching tlieir last. Old Time seemed now to stand at the head of the pulj)it, with its great scythe, saying, with a hoarse voice: " Work while it is called to-day; at night I will mow thee down." Grim Death seems to stand at the side of the pulpit, with its shai-p arrows, say- ing : "1)0 thou shoot God's arrows, and I will shoot mine." .Alinisters now had awakening calls to serionsness and fervour in their ministerial -work. To preach on the side and brink of the pit, into which thousands were tumbling — to pr.iy under such near ^iews of eternity, might be a means to stir up the spirits more than onlinary. Now there is such a vast concourse of people in the churches where these ministers are to be found, that they cannot many times come near the pulpit doors for the press, but are forced to climb over the pews to them; and such a face is now seen in the assemblies as seldom was seen before in London — such eager looks, such open ears, such greedy atten- tion, as if every word would be eaten which dropped from the mouths of the ministers. If you ever saw a drowning man catch at a rope, you may guess how eagerly many people did catch at the "Word, when they were ready to be over- whelmed by this overflowing scourge, which was passing through the city; when Death was knocking at so many doors, and God was crying aloud by his judgments; and ministers were now sent to knock, cry aloud, and lift up their voice like a trumpet; then, then the people began to open the car and the lieart, which were last shut and barred before. How did they then hearken, as for tlieir lives — as if every sermon were their last^as if Death stood at the door of the church, and would seize upon them so soon as they came forth — as if the arrows which flew so thick in the city would strike them, before they could get to their houses — as if they were imme- diately to appear before the bar of that God, who by his ministers was now gjieaking unto them ! Great were the impressions wliichthe Word then made upon many hearts — beyond the power of man to effect, and beyond what the people before ever felt, as some of them have declared. When sin is ripjied up and re- proved, O the tears that slide down from the eyes I When the judgments of God are denounced, O the tremblings which are upon the conscience ! When the Lord Jesus Christ is made known and proffered, 0 the longing desires and openings of heart unto him ! ^\'hen the riches of the Gospel are displayed, and the promisei? of the covenant of grace are set forth and applied, O the inward burnings and sweet flames which were in the afiections ! Now the net is cast, and many fishes are taken; the pool is moved by the angel, and many leprous sjiirits and sin-sick souls are cured ; many were brought to the birth, and 1 hope not a few were bom again, and brought forth. A strange moving there was upon the hearts of mul- titudes in the city ; and I am persuaded that many were brought over effectually unto a closure with Jesus Christ; whereof some died by the plague with willingness and peace ; others remain stedfast in (xod's waj's unto this day; but convictions (I believe) many hundreds had, if not thousands, which I wish that none have stifled, and with the dog returned to their vomit, and with the sow have wallowed again in the mu-e of their former sins. The work was the more great, because the instruments made use of were more obscure and unlikely, whom the Lord did make choice of the rather, that the glory by ministers and people might be ascribed in full unto himself. Basfejt of iTragmcttts* Self. — The very heart and root of sin is an inde- pendent spirit. Vi'e erect the idol self; and not only wisli others to worship, but worship it ourselves. — CerJl. Thi? Power of Sin.— That which first overcomes a man is the last thing he overcomes. — SlAuijustine. The Design of Life. — Certainly God hath some further design in giving me my life, and preserving it by continual miracles, within and without, than that I should eat, drink, and die. — Adam. Kepf.ntance. — With the same height of desire thou hast sinned, with the like depth of sorrow thou must repent. Thou that hast sinned to-day, defer not thy repentance till to-morrow. He that hath promised pardon to thy repentance hath not pro- mised life till thou repent. — Quur/es. PnovinENCE. — God hangs the greatest weights upon the smallest wires. — Bacon. Petlsonai. Religion. — It was the observation of I\Ir Ward, upon his brother Daniel Rogers (who was a man of great gifts and eminent graces, yet of a very bad temper and constitution), that tliough his brother Rogers had grace enough for two men, yet lie had not half enough for himself. — Flavel. 132 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ©atlg BrcaU, ■"Bo not weary." — Prov. iii. II. Jesus hath died for you ! What can his love withstand ? Believe, hold fast your shield, and who Shall pluck you from his hand ? Believers, go on ; your liist step will be on the head of the old serpent, but crush it, and spring fiom it into glory. — Mason. SATURDAY. « The cross of Christ."—! CoR. i. 17. Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless sotil on thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone — Still support and comfort me. All ray trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing. Thou, O Lord, art all I want ; All in all in thee I find : Raise the fallen, cheer the faint. Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Come and see the victories of the cross. Christ's wounds are thy healing, his agonies thy repose, his conflicts thy conquests, his groans thy songs, his pains thine ease, his shame thy glory, his death thy life, his sufierings thy salvation, — Hennj. " I have a message from God unto thee." — Judges iii. 20. Jesus, thy servants bless, Who, sent by thee, proclaim The peace, and joy. and righteousness Experienced in thy name : The kingdom of our God, Which thy great Spirit imparts. The power of thy victorious blood. Which reigns in faithful hearts ! Beware of critical hearing of sermons preached by good men. It is an awful thing to he occupied in balancing the merits of a preacher, instead of the demerits of yourself. Consider every opportunity of hearing as a message sent you from heaven. For all the sermons you have heard, you will have to render an account at the last day. — L. Jiickmund. " Live peaceably with all men." — Rom. xii. 18. Prince of universal peace, Destroy the enmity ; Bid our jars and discords cease — Unite us all in thee. O that now, with pardon blest. We each might each embrace ; Quietly together rest. And feed upon thy grace ! I never loved those salamanders that are never well but when they are in the lire of contention. I will rather suffer a tliousund -wrongs than offer one : I will suffer an hundred rather than return one : I will suffer many ere I will complain of one, and en- deavour to right it by contending. I have ever found that to strive with my superior is furious ; with my equal, doubtful; with my inferior, sordid and base; with any, full of unquietness. — JJis/iop Hall. " Darkness shall be made light unto thee." — Isa. xlii. 16. Light in thy light O may I see, Thy grace and mercy i)rove; Revived, and cheered, and bless'd by thee. The God of pardoning love. Lift up thy coimtcnance serene, And let thy happy child Behold, without a cloud between, The Godhead reconcil'd ! Even when a believer sees no light, he may feel some hope ; when he cannot close with a promise, he may lay hold on an attribute, and say : Though both my flesh and my heart fail, yet divme faithfulness and divine compassions fail not. Though I can hardly discern at present either sun, moon, or stars, yet will I cast anchor in the dark, and ride it out, until the day break, and the shadows flee away. — ArroKsrait/i. WEDNESDAY. " Be not high-minded, but fear." — Rom. xi. 20. I want a principle within Of jealous, godly fear ; A sensibility of sin — A pain to feel it near. I want the first approach to feel Of pride, or fond desire ; To catch the wand'ring of my will. And quench the kindling fire. Never are men more unfit than when they think themselves most fit, and best prepared for their duty; never more fit, than when most humbled and ashamed under a sense of their o^ni unfitness. — Luther. THURSDAY. " O how I love thy law." — Ps. cxix. 97. Father of mercies, in thy Word What endless glory shines I For ever be thy name adored For these reviving lines ! O may these heavenly pages be Through hfe my chief delight ; And still new beauties may 1 see, And still increasing light ! The Word is a land flowing with milk and honey, and we should spare no pains nor labour in order to gain it. God has give)i it eminent names, that he might draw our affections more toAvards it. It is called a lamj} to guide onr feet, and a lir/ht to our paths. It is a yuide to conduct us; a medicine to heal us ; a bridle to restrain and hold us in ; a sword to defend us ; uxUer to wash us ; a jire to make us warm; salt to season and purify us; miU: to nourish US; wine to cheer us; a treasure to enrich us; and a Hry to unlock for us the gate of heaven. Thus the Word has every name given to it, that we may seek it instead of everything else. — Rowlands. *»• A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh: Printed by John Jomnstone, residing at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. Groombridge & Sons. Gla«- gow : J. R. M'NAin & Co. ; and to be had of ajiy Book- seller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 133 MISSIONARY ADDRESS. BY THE REV. DR DRASEKE, MAGDEBURG. ( Translated from the German.) " The harvest truly is prcat, but the labourers are few : pray ye therofore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest." — Luke x. 2. Our presence here to-day is proof sufficient tliat we are interested in the missionary cause, and feel bound to promote it. Tlie words now quoted have special reference to the cause of missions, and teacli us : — I. That each of us oiii/kt to be active; II. Tiiat each of us can be active in promoting it. I. The duty is founded on/o«r facts — the wor- thiness of the cause, the misery of man, the greatness of the harvest, and the deficiency of labourers. 1. The tcorthinrss of the cause of missions is Bhown from the statement in the previous verses, about Christ going around the cities and villages preaching the Gospel of the Ivingdom, and heal- ing all manner of sickness and diseases among the people. This is in reality the whole of the mis- sionary work. Christians ! your tirst duty is, the ]iio;iching of the Gospel of the knigdom ! Your sphere of labour is among the souls whom God ha-s created ; you are to strive that they may he jjrepared for his kingdom. It is not merely in Hethlehem, and Nazareth, and Jerusalem that you are to labour, but far and near — on this and tlic other side of Jordan — in the villages and iiiaiket-places. Your labours are designed to (Nalt into heaven, and to take in the whole world. Does any one among you say that such act ivity is impracticable, as surpassingall human power ? We are men, it is true ; but it is as men that we, in Christ's name, call sinners to " the kingdom." This kingdom cannot come to us, unless we exert ourselves for its interests ; and we are unable to press men into the king- dom, unless the spirit of the kingdom actuates all our doings. To bo a true citizen of this kingdom, each of you must be the friend ofmis- iu'i'^. In this matter there can be no indiffe- rence. " lie that is not with me is against me." Our activity in the missionary cause is insepar- ably connected with our true destiny as human agents — with the true nature of man's duty, as a responsible and immortal being. Remember who it is wliom the verses referred to represent as thus engaged. It is Jesus — the Saviour pro- mised to the nations — the Son of tiie living God. And how does he work in his Fatiier's vineyard? Love and wisdom characterize all lie says and does. lie does not enter \\\wn his labour until he has been duly qualified for it ; nor does he cease till lie has comi)letcd what he had under- taken. Can any pattern be Iield up more worthy oMi- imitation? The missionary cause thus ac- iliiiiLS its true dignity from Ilim who has gone I lore as the first great labourer in the field. No. 12. 2. But consider the tnhery and lost condition of man. The Scripture says, that when Christ saw the nmltitudes, he pitied them; for they were scattered like sheep without ' shepherd. This is the great necessity of the c; ^e. There were shepherds in Israel enough — b ;ribes and Pharisees; but the Spirit of the grnat Shep- herd dwelt not in them. Accordingly, when he came to gather the flock, ho was not re- ceived or acknowledged by tliem. They wan- dered all astray. Is not this still true of those of them who still read the books of Closes, but do not understand, from the veil cast over their eyes ? or of those who bend the knee to the idol, or to that great idol, the world, unto which their hearts have been sold? Tlieir greatest want is the want of shep/urds, and that is the reason that they go thus astray; but " Christ is come to seek aud save that which is lost." His days and nights were devoted to the work of saving sinners. As the blaster did, so should the disci^des. The necessity is great, and we should acknowledge it. Where the Slicplicrd is wanting, everything is wanting; and this we should strive to realize. Those who have thus gone astray are our brethren; and we should ponder tiiis. It is God's will that help be given to all — the one assisting the other, from hand to hand, and place to place, and people to people, and generation to generation. It is thus we should set about establishing the king- dom of heaven upon earth. 3. Think of the greatness of the harrcst. " Tlie harvest," said the Saviour, " is great." This is liis language to you to-day. It is great as the earth itself. Our heavenly husbandman has made a great beginning in occupying the field; and the servants whom he has sent have been faithful, even unto death, in tlieir struggles ^^^th the uncultivated wastes. If you survey the map of the world for a moment, you will be convinced how truly groat the harvest is — great beyond all human reckoning. When such is the case, he who has ability for the work dare not deny his services. Who can think without solemnity of the fact, that on tlie harvest field of missionary labour the sun nerer sets? 4. Consider, next, the trant of labourers. Jesus complained of this want while lie was on earth. Tiiough his was a life of unceasing activity, yet, amid all his labours, the sjjiritual necessi- ties of mankind made him exchiim, that the labourers were indeed few. Twelve, we know, acconiiianied liim as his immediate heli^ers; and yet one of these was the son of perdition. Cliristian friends ! we too have to make tlie same complaint and lamentation. Are not the labourers few i Few ! if we consider their task Men/ 16, 1845. 134 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. of saving a fallen world. Few ! if we consider the earnestness which the care of lost souls requires. Few ! if we consider the field over which the kingdom of God behoves to extend. The societies may easily he counted who are connected with the work. The seminaries can be numbered where labourers are being trained. The stations can be named to which labourers have gone. Those who have gone can be counted — who have left house and home, friends and country, to oi^pose, in the distant parts of the earth, the kingdom of light to the kingdom of darkness. But, my friends, those tribes and communities who require such labourers, are not to be numbered; and much less the indi- viduals who have had yet no means of know- ing that life which comes from God. Will you, then, not increase this little, faithful band ? Will you not devote your energies to a work which concerns your duties as men and Chris- tians ? Will you not enter, with heart and soul, on the Gospel warfare ? Are you not ready to admit, tliat as it is a matter of the highest honour and the gravest necessity, so it is, too, a truly personal matter of the heart, and a most sacred matter of the conscience, for every individual Christian to be a fellow- worker with his Lord? Such are the high ob- ligations to take earnest part iu the missionary work. To oe coniinii^d. REV. DANIEL ROWLANDS OF LLANGEITHO, THE WHITEFIELD OF WALES. The particulars we have given regarding the preaching of Rowlands are sufficient to show that it must have been of a very striking and uuusual kind. The descriptions of its charac- teristics and effects by those of his cotempo- raries Avho heard hun, are strilving and full of interest. The well-known Chaj'les says of him, in his diary : — On January 20, 1773, 1 went to hear Mr Rowlands preach at New Chapel. His text was Heb. iv. 1.5. A day much to be remembered by me as long as I live. Ever since that happy day I have lived in a new heaven and a nevr earth. The change which a blind man who receives his sight experiences does not esceed the change which at that time I ex- perienced in my own mind. The earth receded and disappeared ; Heaven opened to my eyes : My ears with sounds seraphic rang. It was then that I was first conraiced of the sin of unbelief, or of entertauiing narrow, contracted, and hard thoughts of the Almighty. I had such a view of Christ as onr high priest — of his love, compassion, power, and all-siilficiency — as filled my soul with astonishment, with joy unspeakable and full of glory. My mind was overwhelmed and overpowered with amazement. The trutlis exhibited to my view ap- peared for a time too wonderfully gracious to be be- lieved. The glorious scenes then opened to my eyes, will abundantly satisfy my soul mdlions of years hence, in the contemplation of them. 1 had some idea of Gospel truths before floating in my head, but they never powerfully, and with divine energy, penetrated my heart till now. And in another place he says : — " The gifts of Mr Rowlands, and the power that accom- panied his ministry, were such, that no hearers in the present age can form any adequate idea of them. There is no one who has not heard him that can imagine anything equal to what they were. Oh, how wonderful the authority and light that accompanied his ministry ! and how wonderful the effects on the hearers ! " The Rev. Christmas Evans, a Welsh preacher, gives the foUomng detailed account : — His mode was his own — inimitable. I seem to see him now, dressed in his black gown, opening the httle door that led from the outside to the pulpit, and making his appearance to the multitude. His whole countenance Avas clothed with a majesty that betokened sense, eloquence, and authority. His fore- head was high; his eyes were keen and piercing; liis nose was Roman or acquiline ; his lips comely, and his chin projecting and rising a little; and his voice was sonorous and high-toned. Some preacher read and prayed, usually, accord- ing to what I have heard, before he rose up to preach. He then very frequently gave out to sing the follow- ing stanza from Prys' Psalms : — Un arch a erchais ar Dduw Nav, A hyny a archav etc, — Cael dod i Dy yr Argiwyddglan, A bod a'r.i trigyan yno.* One stanza only was given out at n. time in those days, remarkable for povv-erful mfluences. After singing the stanza with great fervour, Rowlands stood up, and read his text clearly to the hearing of all. The whole assembly were all ears, as if they were going to hear some evangelic oracle, and the eyes of all were fixed on him. He had some stirring thought, as a small ointment-box, before opening the great one of the sermon, which he opened, and the odours of its ointmcut spread over the whole con- gregation, and prepared them to expect tlie opening of the other boxes, one after the other, throughout the sermon (which he did), until the whole house was filled with the heavenly odour, as at Bethany formerly, with the odour of JIary's alabaster-box of ointment. After thus rousing the congregation by some striking thought, he divided his text, and began with the first division, bending downwards his head a little, to glance at the notes he had on a shp of paper. Rowlands (soon) grew warm; his voice rising and becoming authoritative, and resounding through the whole chapel, so that you could see nothing but smiles, and the tears flowing doivn the faces of the people, accompanied vnih. exclamations throughout the assembly. When this first flame of heavenly devotion, under the first head, had become tranquil, he began the second time to melt and render amiple the minds of the people, mitil he brought thom again into the same l»e*veifly temper; and tliis he did, as some say, six or seven times in the same ser- * Psalm xxvii. 4, former part. The Welsh version is nearly this : — I've made to God this one request. To this I still adhere- That I may in his house be blest, And have my dwelling there. There is a peculiarity in the very words, which no trans- lation can convey. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH— REV. DANIEL ROWLANDS. 135 mon. The face and voice of Roivlantls underwent changes and emotions, until there was a sort of vehe- ment flame tranafomiiug and driving away the earthly, dead, and careless spirit; and the people drew nigh, as it were in the cloud, to Christ, and to Moses and Ellas; and eternity and its realities rushed into their minds. The well-known Jones of Creaton used to remark, that ho liad " never heard but one Rowlands" — meaning tliat, of all tlie many emi- nent preachers he had heard, tlicre was none so eminent as he; and ou one occasion he re- marked:— The peculiar excellences of Rowlands' preaching were dnjtk and J'ircoui: His knowledge of divine things was remarkably profound. He was, at times, like those birds which dive under water for their prey, and havinj; caught it, suddenly emerge again. 1 often thought of such birds whUe hearing him ; for he sometimes went, as it were, out of sight ; so that we could not exactly see or know what he was aiming at; and then he brought suddenly to view what he had been diving for, and set it forth in a few concise and expressive words, to the great astonishment and delight of his hearers. And as to his fervoui-, it far exceeded everytliiug that I have ever observed in any other. And Whitefield himself says, on returning from a ^^sit to Wales, Last year I -visited several places in South Wales, but now I went to more, and in every place found that not one-hulj had been told me. The power of God at the sacrament under the ministry of Mr Rowlands was enough to make a person's heart to burn within him. At seven of the morning have I seen perhaps ten thousand from diflerent parts, in the midst of sermon, crying, Gotjun.iant — BendigeiUg (Hosanua — Hallelujah), ready to leap for joy. And not only had his preaching so powerful an effect upon his hearers; it had a ])Owerful effect upon himself. Such were at times his realizing perceptions of divme things, that na- ture was hardly able to bear up under them. As he was on one occasion going through the service at Llancwnlle, while praying before sermon, his mind was led to the contemplation of our Saviour's great suff'erings; and so much was he overpowered, that crying out in the most aff"ecting manner : " Oli, empty veins ! Oh, pale countenance !" he fainted away in the pidpit. After some time he recovered, and prcaclied witli astonishing power and energy. The real secret of Rowlands' Avonderful power and success as a preacher is doubtless to be found in the fact that, deejjly convinced of his own weakness, he was enabled to take a firm Iiold of the Lord's strength. When preparing for the puljiit he looked to the Lord for guidance ; and when in it, relied on him for the blessing. He cast off " self." He had a strong and ever-abiding sense of the necessity of the Spirit's power both to teach himself, and to render his teaching elfectual to the people. " His mind was often much depressed with the thought of his wciikness ; and the withholding of divine light and influence he vividly felt, not only in his public miuistra- } tions, but also in private, while preparing his sermons." The following remarkable incident will illustrate this : — One Saturday evening, while Rowlands was walk- ing before his house, he apjieared very distressed and depressed in mind. When he met his pious ser- vant, whom he treated as a brother in the Lord, he addressed him by his Christian name, and said, that he could not preach the following morning, because he had nothing to say to the people. " Oh, dear Mr Rowlands," said the servant, "do not say so; for who else can we get .'" He still continued to say the game thing — that he could not preach ; and said, be- sides, that the Lord had not given him anything to say to them. In this distressed state of mind he continued until he retired for the night. The following morning, when the servant went into his room, he was awake, but in bed; and there was a book on a chair close to his bed-side. The ser- vant told him that it was time to rise, it being then about seven o'clock. After waiting some time, he went in again and found him still in bed. He then reminded him that the time for going to chapel was drawing nigh. But his answer was the same as the preceding evening — that he could not preach, and that some one else must be sent for. But the servant used every reason he could think of to induce him to rise and dress himself; and then he went out, hoping that he had succeeded. It was now di'awing towards ten o'clock, when the service at Llangeitho chapel was to begin, and the people were flocking there in great nimibers from every direction. After a short interval, the servant entered into his bed-room again, and found him, as before, in bed, and still saying that he could not preach that morning. However the ser- vant somehow or other prevailed on him at this time to rise, and assisted him to dress, which %vas not usual; for he seemed to have lost all strength, and almost the use of his limbs. But after he was dressed, he was still unwilling to go to chapel; and would not have gone, had not the servant brought him there very much against his own will. AVhen they reached the chapel, that part of the service previous to the sermon was nearly gone through. The jirayers and the singing before sermon was nearly over. The servant was under the neces- sity of helping him into the puljiit, as he seemed extremely weak and feeble. But the pious old man, as he related this, could not but make this rem.irk : " I knew," said he, with great emphasis, " that if we once got him into the pulpit, everything would be well." And neither he nor the congregation were disappointed. When he began his sermon, he ap- peared verj' feeble, the voice low, the limbs relaxed, and his whole frame trembling. By degrees he re- vived and gathered strength; and in less than ten minutes he was preaching with unusual vigour, and uncommon power and dignity. His words were like flashes of lightning, spreadi)ig over the whole assem- bly, both within and without; for there were nearly as many without as within. The effect on the whole congregation was very remarkable, liundi'eds of them could not repress their emotions, but burst forth into loud praises, before he had gone half through his sermon, and continued singing, praising, and rejoicing for hours. And, as illustrating his conviction of the necessity of the Spirit's power in order to render the preiiciung of the Word effectual, we may give another incident, which occurred during a preaching week in Pembrokeshire :— There had been preaching the night before, but evidently with no unction from above. Rowlands 136 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. was to preach the following day at ten o'clock. A clergyman preached before him, but with no apparent efi'ect on the congregation. There was present, as it appears, on the stage where the ministers stood, a preacher whose Christian name was Da^id, and who was remarkable for prayer. After the clerg3Tnan had done, Rowlands, before he began, addressed this preacher, and said : " David, you must go shortly to prayer before I preach, and disperse the thick cloud that is over us. You must not be more than three or four minutes; for the long prayer we have had here at the beginning failed to disperse it." David obeyed, and instantly began, and said : " Lord Jesus, for the sake of thy blood and agony, hear me. Thy servants have been here trying to winnow the pre- ceding evening, and also this morning; but they could do nothing. Lord, not a single breath of hea- venly wind has yet blown on this meeting. Wind, Lord ; wind, gracious Lord ; the wind is now, as ever, in thine hand. Amen." The impression was great and instantaneous on the vast assembly; and Row- lands preached with visibly happy efl'ect. The remainder of the life of Rowlands was spent, as the period from his conversion had been, in unwearied and signally blessed labours for the good of souls. He was honoured to be the instrument of accomplishing a great work in that country — a work the blessed fruits of which still continue to be gathered in abundance. " He is dead;" but he " yet speaks"— speaks in the piety and worth of the peasantry of Wales — in the thirst which they still feel for the Word- — in the vast multitudes which still assemble to receive it at the hands of men of a like spirit Avith him — in the striking and gene- ral contrast presented by the principles and habits of the people now, to those which pre- vailed before his time. He died rather suddenly, " His wish and prayer was, that he should not lie long on a sick-bed. He and Whitefield were in this re- spect alike ; for it is said that this was also the wish of that remarkable man. Rowlands' de- sire was, to depart wlien his work was finished. To go almost instantly from his labours to his rest was his wish; and his wish was granted. He had been for some time in a declining state of health, but not so as to be kept from doing his duty. Though he did not, for nearly a twelvemonth, go abroad much, yet he preached at liome almost as regularly as usual. He was taken rather unwell on the Wednesday previous to his death ; but he was not considered to be seriously ill until Friday ; and on the following morning, near the time that he was expected to preach at Llangeitho Chapel, as was custom- ary before the sacramental Sabbath, his happy soul left its earthly tabernacle, and entered into the rest of the blessed." Anecdote of Bishop Porteus. — A clergyman dining once with Bishop Porteus, noticed with con- tempt the line of a hymn — " A sinner saved by grace alone " — expecting that the bishop would join in con- demning it; but, instead of doing so, his lordship .ooked very solemnly at the clergyman, and said : I' And pray, Sir, can you tell me of any other way in which a sinner can be saved ? " Scripturf Illustration. THE DOVE. I'ART II. HER MANNERS. The manners of the dove are aa engaguig as her form is elegant and her plumage rich and beautiful. She is the chosen emblem of simplicity, gentleness, chastity, and feminine timidity. Our blessed Lord alludes with striking effect to her amiable temper in that well known direction to his disciples : " Be ye wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." Wisdom without simplicity degenerates into cunning; simpli- city without wisdom, into silliness: united, the one cor- rects the excess or suppUes the defects of the other, and both become the objects of praise ; but separated, neither the wsdom of the serpent nor the simplicity of the dove obtains in this passage the Saviour's com- mendation. The character which is compounded of both makes the nearest approach to the true stan- dard of Christian excellence. The wisdom of the serpent enables the believer to discern between good and evil, truth and error, that having proved all things, he may hold fast that which is good; the simplicity of the dove renders him inoffensive and sincere, that he may not deceive nor injure his neigh- bour. Such were the qualities which the Saviour recommended to his followers, and his apostle wished the Romans to obtain : ," I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil." HER SIMPLICITY. The simplicity of the dove, when separated from the wisdom of the serpent, indicates in Scripture a blamable defect ; and in the same light it is viewed by the natural historian. So inattentive is that bird to the snares which the fowler, with little precau- tion, spreads for her destruction, so easily is she entangled and taken, that her simphcity became pro- verbial among the ancients. Unsuspicious of danger, she approaches the decoy, to gaze upon the new and curious object, and is suddenly taken in the snare; and in a state of captivity she submits to become a decoy in her turn, and with her voice and gestures allures other doves, heedless and foolish as herself, within the grasp of their common enemy. This ignoble character the prophet imputed to Ephraim, or the Ten Tribes : He " is like a silly," or rather a simple, " dove without heart." He was so stupid, or so heedless, that he took no precautions agamst approaching dangers, but threw himself into the power of his enemies. HER CONJUGAL FIDELITY. Her conjugal fidelity has been celebrated by every writer who has described or alluded to her character. She admits but of one mate ; she never forsakes him till death put an end to their union; and never abandons, of her own accord, the nest which their united labour has provided. These facts imfold the true reason that the Church is by Solomon so fre- quently compared to the dove. Our Lord addresses her in these tender and affecting terms : " O my dove that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret ON NATURAL HISTORY. 137 slielvinga of the inaccessible precipice, let me hear thy voice, let me sec thy face ; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely." " Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my imdefiled ; for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night." And in his description of her holy beauties, we find this clause : " My dove, my undeliled is but one ; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her." The image implies, that the Church is the only object of the Saviour's love ; and he, on the other hand, the sole delight of her soul. She acknowledges no other Saviour ; and he has but one spouse, whom he has betrothed unto himself for ever, " in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving-kindness, and in mercies." DOVES AS OFFERINGS UNDER THE CEREMONIAL LAW. Doves of every species were presented on the tables of the Jews, and ofiered by the law of Moses at the altar of Jehovah. These sacrificial oblations were of various kinds. The grateful Israelite was permitted to bring a pair of turtle-doves or young pigeons as a free-will ofl'ering to the Lord; but when he had neglected to reprove his brother, who had in his pre- sence blasphemed the name of God, or had himself taken a rash oath, or had polluted himself by touch- ing some unclean thing, he was commanded to bring as a trespass-offering two turtle-doves or two young pigeons ; the one for a sin-oflering and the other for a burnt-oflering. The same kind of oblations ■were required in a variety of other cases, which are marked with sufficient clearness and precision. The law of Moses required only young pigeons to be oifered in sacrifice ; for the oblations of God were to be of the best, and these creatures become tough and unsavoury when they grow old; but the full- grown turtle continues tender and good. But they were to be offered in sacrifice only by those persons that had nothing more valuable to give ; for the law runs in these terms : " And if he be not able to bring a lamb, then he shall bring for his trespass which he hath committed two turtle-doves or two young pigeons unto the Lord." It was, therefore, the poverty of the Virgin mother of our Lord which compelled her, when the days of her purification were accomplished, to offer in sacrifice a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons; and it was a striking proof of the amazing condescension of Christ, that he submitted to be born of a woman who liad nothing more valuable to present on the altar of his Father, even for the gift of the promised Messiah. Such humble offerings were in use long before the ceremonial law was given from Sinai ; for when Abraham was received into covenant with God, he offered in sacrifice, by the divine command, a turtle- dove and a young pigeon. These, together with the heifer, the slie-goat, and the ram, all of three years old, which he immolated at the sametime, compre- hended the different kinds of sacrifices which were afterwards ajipointed in the wilderness; and they irere perhaps required on this occasion to furnish the patriarch with a complete view of those sacrifi- cial oblations by which tlie faith of Old Testament Christians was, in every age of that shadowy dispen- sation, to be conducted to the atoning blood of Messiah. THE DOVE AN EMBLEM OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. The dove is also supposed by some writers to be the proper emblem of the Holy Spirit, when he de- scended upon the Saviour at his baptism. In the Gospel according to Luke, the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape, like a dove upon him. As the dove brought intelhgence to Noah of approaching deliverance, so did the Holy Spirit, at the baptism of Clirist, announce the spiritual restoration of perishing sinners, by tlie obedience and death of the Redeemer. For this reason, many have supposed that the third person of the Truiity on that occasion assumed the real figure of a dove; but the sacred writer seems to refer, not to the shape, but to the manner in which the dove descends from the sky. In this manner the likeness of fire is expressed by the same evangelist, in the Acts of the Apostles : " There a]ipeared cloven tongues {aa-u ■prv^os) as of fire." The meaning of the clause, therefore, is, tliat as a dove hovers on the wing, and overshadows the place upon which she intends to perch, so did the Holy Spirit, in the form of a luminous cloud, like the Schechinah which rested on the tabernacle, gradu- ally descend, hovering, and overshadowing the Sa- viour as he came up from the water. This exposition refutes another opinion, which was entertained by many of the ancients, that it was a real dove which alighted upon the head of our Lord ; for if the sacred AVTiter describes only the manner of descending, neither the form nor the real presence of a dove can be admitted. But although the evangelist alludes only to the manner in which that bird descends from the ^^nng, he clearly recognises her as the chosen emblem of the Holy Spirit, the messenger of peace and joy to sinful and miserable men. He descends from the Father, " to guide his people into all truth" — to " teach them all things " necessary to their salvation" — "to help their infirmities, and make intercession for them with groanings which cannot be uttered." It may truly be said of him that lie is without gall ; for " the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, temperance." These precious dispositions the Spirit of God infuses into the hearts of all genuine believers, although they exist in a much higher degree and shine with a far superior lustre in the spotless humanity of Christ. The I-'ather anointed him witli the oil of gladness above his fellows : " He is fairer than the children of men " — " He is alto- gether lovely." — Paxtoii's Scriptural IllmtnUions. ON NATURAL HISTORY. BV Tin; REV. DAVID LANDSBOROCGII, STEVENSTON. I MENTIONED lately to an intelligent friend that I had been asked to furnish for the Christian Trcasunj some articles on Natural History, and, knowing that the whole field of Natural Science was familiar to him, I requested that he would suggest some topics. His reply was : " Your best way to contribute to the Christian Trcasnry is just to give the history of your parish — 1 mean Stevenston. You have nothing to do >»ll« *^' 138 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. but to begin, and you will be surprised how many tilings -vvill arise, all asking for an early notice." This parish, in which I have so long resided, is mdeed a rich and tempting tield; and had I the talents, science, piety, and leisure requisite for the undertak- ing, many papers might be written, not undeserving of a place in the Cliristian Treasurij. But, with such qualifications as I have, I ought perhaps to listen to the call, in the hope of doing even a little good. I have at least the love of nature, and by reading, and correspondence with several of our most distinguished naturalists, and by keeping my eyes open when in the fields or by the sea-side, I have picked up some knowledge in various departments of natural his- tory. I have not forgotten what, in school-boy plvrase, we called a ticlcUj line on the title-page of Livy : " .Scire luum nihil est, nisi te scire hocsciat alter;'''' which, by dint of deep study, we found meant some- thing like this : " Your knowledge is nothing worth, if you keep it all to yourself." On the highest authority it is said : " No man when he has lighted a candle, putteth it in a secret place, neither under a bushel, but on a candlestick, that they which come in may see the light." Our light may be but that of a taper; but even a taper-light may be useful, and it may be instrumental in kindling a brighter flame. I shall not attempt to write a histori/, for the minu- tice of natural history ai e interesting to comparatively few, and therefore unsuitable for the Christian Trea- sury. I shall, however, attempt to give some general sketches on several topics which the field presents, seeking to deduce from them useful lessons. As I am a Free Church minister, I doubt not that I shall be excused though I should occasionally overstep the parochial boundaries; and if I treat of birds, and beasts, and creeping things, I may surely treat — should fit subjects present themselves — of man, the chief of God's works here below. I may meet with no cedar of Lebanon, nor even hyssop springing out of the wall ; but I shall not much regret the loss, if I have the happiness of falling in with some olive plants, the planting of the Lord, or some venerable trees in the Lord's vineyard, which, though old, are bringing forth fruit, and are aye flourishing. Two books have been put into our hands ; — the one is as old as the creation, and has in every age been open to all mankind; the other, though less ancient, is very venerable, part of it yielding in antiquity only to the first. They are both valuable, and they never contradict each other ; for they are from the same infallible Author. The one is the Book of Nature— the other is the Word of God. This is the book of books. AVe are commanded to search it; and if we neglect it, it is at our peril. Strange that any should neglect it ! for it tells sinful man how all his sins may be blotted out, how all his spiritual diseases may be healed, how all his powerful and insidious foes may be discomfited, how Death, the last enemy, may be destroyed, and how the child of the dust may be raised to an eternity of blessedness at God's right hand in the heavens. The more we have profited by the blessed Book of Revelation, the better are we fitted to derive benefit from the Book of Nature. It cannot tell us of the mercy of God, and of the gi-eat salvation which is offered through a crucified Saviour ; but, if Gospel truth has been brought home to our hearts by the Holy Spirit, then we shaU delight to trace the workings of God's hand in crear tion, and to contemplate the numerous manifestations of his power, and wisdom, and goodness, unfolded in every page of the Book of Nature. Some of the most beautiful descriptive passages of the Old Testament are quotations, so to speak, from the Book of Nature. How rich is the following : " He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man : that he may bring forth food out of the earth ; and ^vine' that maketli glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. The trees of the Lord are full of saj); the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted; where the birds malie their nests : as for the stork, the fir trees are her house. The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats; and the rocks for the conies. He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down. Thou makest darkness, and it is night : wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from God. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their dens. Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening. O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : the earth is full of thy riches. So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein. These wait all upon thee ; that thou mayest give them their meat in due season. That thou givest them they gather : thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good." Some of the richest promises of God in the Old Testament are given in figurative language from the Book of Nature : " I will be as the dew unto Israel : he shall grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Lebanon. His branches shall spread, and his beauty shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon. They that dwell under his shadow shall return; they shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine : the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon." How beautiful ! It is the Almighty that speaks, and the language and sentiments are worthy of the God of Israel. Some knowledge of natural history, however, is almost necessary to enable a person fully to appreciate it. He who veiled the glory which he had as God before the world began, and assumed our nature into mys- terious union vnth the di^ane, that he might suffer in the room and stead of his people, deigned to di-aw some of his encouraging lessons from the Book of Nature. " Behold the fowls of the air : for they sow- not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they ? And why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, 0 ye THE EXILES OF LOCARNO. 139 of little faith?" And how docs the Lord humble the Piitririrch Job? He takes him to the Hook of Nature, and i)uts many questions to him respecting what is written on its ample pi>ge. In a style of inimitable grandeur, he interrogates him respecting the formation of the earth, and of light, and of frost, and rain, and lightning, and respecting many of tlie connnon i)henomena of nature; he questions him also respecting the nature and instincts of many of the creatures that live on the earth, or inhabit the deep, or fly in the air; and if in these matters he niust confess much ignorance, how presumptuous was it to think to fathom the deep things of God, or to Tenture to arraign the proceedings of the Almighty ! If, in contemplating the more magnificent works of God— the telescopic worlds — we are tempted to say: " What is man, that thou art mindful of him?" we have oidy to call the microRco])e to our aid, and it will reveal to us many minute Avorlds, full of wonders, and evidently enjoying the superintending care of God. The smallest drop of water, or the tiniest leaf of the forest, becomes a microcosm — a little world full of inhabitants, hajipy as heart could wish, whether dis- porting in playful gambols in the watery element, or lu.xuriating in the rich and extensive ])astures of the Tcrdant leaf. Respecting all of them it laay be said that they are fearfully and wonderfullj' made — as complete in their organism as the camel, the ship of the desert, or as the sagacious eleiihant, the mighty inmate of the Indian forest. When, by the aid of the magnifying lens, we sec on a space which the tip of a child's finger could cover, myriads of living creatures, formed and fed by the hand of God, and tasting the happiness of the life which he has given them, then may we lift up our heads and say: If he care for living atoms, that know not the hand that sustains them, will he lor a moment forget his own cl'.ildren that trust in him? No; they :ire his ran- somed jieople — his blood- bought inheritance : " The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my jjcace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee." 0 may we ponder more, then, on the wonderful works of God ! may we think more on the riches of his goodness, in forming such nmltitudes of beings to partake of hi.3 bounty; and esi)ecially on his astonishing loving-kindness to man, in forming him after his own image; in restoring that image when sinfully' defaced; in making this world, even when under the curse, a commodious habitation ibr him; and in guiding him on his way to tlie ])urchased, and promised, and j)re- pared mansions of liglit. May we learn to enjoy God in all things, and all things in God, that, being ouii ALL ANDi.N ALL through time, he may be our crown of glory and diadem of beauty through eternity ! "this mortal shall put on im.moktality." The world is but a walk of pain, That has only end with death ; , Life is war, in which we gain Conquest by the loss of breath : Who would !iot warfare end, and travels cciisc, To live ut home in rest, and rest at home in peace.' What's the earth when trinmiost drcst To that crystal-spangled dwelling? Yet the saint in glory least Is in glory far excelling : Glorious Redeemer, let this earth of mine Thy glorious body see, and in thy glory shine. Oft I see the darksome night To a beauteous day returning; Oft doth slcej) entomb my sight. Yet I wake again at morning : Bright Sun, return, when sleep hath 6i)ent death's night. That these dim eyes of mine may in thy light see light. Warwick. THE EXILES OF LOCARNO. A STORY or THE RICFORMATIO.V. {From M'C'i-ie''s Ilislory of ihc ReformaLioii in- Italj.) The flourishing Church at Locarno was a great eyesore to the Popes, distant as it was from Rome. In the measures taken for its supjjression it was ne- cessary to proceed with caution, as it included persons of wealtii and respectability, and as the sovereignty of the place belonged to the Swiss cantons, some of which were Protestant, and all of them jealous of their authority. Beccaria, their most zealous advo- cate, though dismissed from ])rison, was exjioscd to such personal danger that he deemed it prudent, by the advice of his friends, to banish himself and retire to Chiavenna. Next to him, the individual most ob- noxious, from his talents and activity, was Taddeo de Dunis. His fame as a physician having made his advice to be sought ibr throughout the adjacent country, he found it necessary to remove to a more central place within the JMilanese. No sooner wiis it known that he was without tlie protection of the Swiss coniederacy, than his old antagonist, the i)riest of Lugano, gave information against him, as a ring- leader of the heretics, to the inquisitor at iNlilan, ivho sent a party to intercept and seize him on one of his professional journeys. Being warned of his danger, lie secured himself by retreating hastily to the moun- tains. Trusting, however, to his innocence, or to the jiowerful interest of the families which he attended, he afterwards appeared voluntarily before the in- quisitor, and was so fortunate as to be dismissed, on condition of his quitting the Milanese, and confining his medical aid lor the future to the inhabitants of his native district. During four years the Protestants at Locarno were subjected to every species of indignity short of open violence. They had for some time desisted from em- jiloying the priests to confess their sick, and from burying their dead after the Po])ish manner, with torches atul the cross; and they got their children baptized by ministers whom they brought for that l)urpose from Chiaveima, when they had no pastor of their oAvn. The increase ol' the Protestants lessened, in this way, the gains of the mercenary jiriesthood, who endeavoured to move heaven and earth against the innovators, as at once sacrilegious and unnatural. They circulated the base report that the Protestants were guilty of the most licentious ]n-acticcs in their secret meetings; and such calunmious rumours, while they met with easy credit from the ignorant and superstitious multitude, were encouraged by others who were too enlightened not to know their false- hood. In the meantime, a deep plot was laid l>y one Wiilthcr, it lutivc of the Popish canton of Uri, who 140 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY, was at that time town-clerk of Locarno, and who, some years after, was banished for holding a trea- sonable correspondence with the Duke of Alva, governor of Milan. He forged a deed, purporting that the senators, citizens, and other inhabitants of the tovni and bailiwick of Locarno, bound themselves by oath to the seven Popish cantons, that they would adhere to the Pope and the Roman religion until the meeting of a general council. This paper he dated several years back, and sent it as a genuine deed to an assembly of the seven cantons, held in March 1554, who, without making any inquiries, immediately passed a decree that all the Locarnese should, agree- ably to their bond, make confession to the priests duruig the ensuing Lent, that they should give their names to the superior of the Church, and that the rites of sepiUture should be denied to those who had not received mass on their death-bed. The promul- gation of this decree at Locarno came on the Pro- testants as a thunderbolt. Thej' instantly despatched a commissioner to the Protestant cantons, with in- structions to represent the utter falsehood of the allegation on which the decree proceeded, and to entreat them, as their joint temporal superiors, and as professors of the same faith, to exert their in- fluence to avert the ruin which threatened two hun- dred heads of families, who had never swerved from their allegiance, and against whom no occasion or fault had been found, except concerning the law of their God. In consequence of this representation, the deputies of the Protestant cantons assembled at Arau, and vn-ote to those of the Popish persuasion, desiring them not to proceed further in the affair of Locarno until the meeting of the next diet of the confederacy, nor to take any step wMch would in- fringe the rights of the Protestant cantons in that territory. To defeat tliis interposition, the enemies of the persecuted Locarnese industriously circulated through Switzerland that they were not entitled to the protectioji of the Protestant cantons, inasmuch as they were infected with Servetianism, Anabap- tism, and other fanatical opinions. Being informed of this by their commissioner, they transmitted to Zurich a confession of their faith, in which they avowed their agreement with the Reformed Churches concerning the Trinity, the incarnation and media- tory work of Christ, justification, and the sacraments ; which had the effect of silencing this unfounded calumny. Two general diets were held in the end of the year 1554, for discussing this subject. The ficti- tious bond was unanimously set aside; but when they came to the main point, the enemies of the Reformed at Locarno insisted that it sliould be de- cided by the majority of votes in tlie diet, con- trary to the rule usually observed in questions re- lating to religion. Riverda, bishop of Terracino, who had been sent as Papal nuncio to the diet, stimulated the Popish deputies to violent measures ; while those of the Protestant cantons were influenced, partly by jealousy of one another, and partly by dread of in- terrupting the peace of the confederacy. The mat- ter was referred at last to arbiters chosen from the two mixed cantons, who gave it as their judgment, that the inhabitants of Locarno who were free from crime, should either embrace the Roman Catholic religion or leave their native country, taking with them their families and property; that they should not return thither, nor be permitted to settle in the territories of the seven Catholic cantons ; that those chargeable with reproaching the Virgin Mary, with Anabaptism, or other opinions contrary to both con- fessions, should be punished; that this sentence should be intimated to the prefect of Locarno; and that it should be carried into effect by deputies sent by the seven Catholic cantons, provided those of the four Protestant ones refused to take part ia the aSaii, or absented themselves. Against this decision the de- puties of Zurich protested, declaring that, though they were resolved to abide by the league, and not to excite any commotion, they could not agree to have this sentence intimated in their name, and still less to take any share in carrying it into execution. This protest was afterwards formally approved of by their constituents. It was no small part of the indignity offered to the Protestants by tliis decree, that Locar- no was that year under the government of Isaiah Reuchhn, the prefect appointed by the canton of Zurich. This excellent man, who had already ex- perienced repeated vexations, in the discharge of his office, from the violence of the Roman Catholics, was thrown into great perplexity by the intelligence of what was concluded at the diet; from which, how- ever, he was relieved, by instructions from home to regulate his conduct by the protest taken by the deputies of his native city. 8o bent were the Popish cantons on the execution of their edict, and so much were they afraid lest any- thing should intervene to prevent it, that they or- dered thek deputies to cross the Alps in the depth of winter. On their arrival at Locarno, the latter assembled the inhabitants, and, in a threatening harangue, told them, that as they had, by their re- bellious and perverse innovations in religion, distur- bed the peace and nearly broken the union of the Helvetic body, they might justly have been visited with exemplary punishment ; but that the diet, gra- ciously overlooking their past faults, had ordained a law by which then- future conduct should be imperi- ously regulated. The decree having been read, the municipal authorities immediately ratified it by their subscriptions : the inhabitants, being divided Lu sen- timent, were allowed till next day to give in their answer. On the following morning such as were resolved to adhere to the Popish religion appeared before the deputies, and begging forgiveness for any- thing in their past conduct which might have been offensive, promised an entire obedience and con- formity to the laws for the future. In the after- noon, the Protestants, drawn up in regular order, two men, followed by their wives, walking abreast, the women carrying their infants in then- arms, the men leading their children, and those who were most respectable for their rank taking the lead, proceeded to the council-room, where they were received by the deputies with marks of mdecent levity, instead of that respect and S3anpathy to which their appearance and prospects entitled them. One of their number addressed the deputies in the name of his brethren. Being heavily accused of embracing novelties and dangerous opinions, they begged leave, he said, hum- bly to declare that they professed that faith which was prefigured under the Old Testimient, and more clearly revealed by Christ and his apostles : after searching the Scriptures, and comparing the Latin and Italian translations, with prayer for divine illu- mination, they had embraced that doctrine which was summarily comprehended in the Apostles' Creed, and rejected all human trathtions contrary to the Word of God : they disclaimed Novatianism, and all novel opinions, and held in abhorrence everything that favoured licentiousness of manners, as they had often protested to the seven Popish and four Pro- testant cantons : committing themselves to Provi- dence, they were prepared to suffer anything rather than foment strife, or be the occasion of war in the confederation : they had always preserved their al- legiance to the confederate cantons inviolate, and were willing to spend their blood and treasure in their defence : they threw themselves on the gene- rosity and mercy of the lords of the seven cantons, and supplicated them, in the bowels of Jesus Christ, to take pity on such a uumber of persons, including POETRY— DEPENDENCE ON GOD. 141 delicate females and helpless infants, who, if driven from their native country, must be reduced to the greatest distress : but whatever resolution might be come to respecting tliis request, they entreated that a rigorous investigation should be made into the crinies, affecting their honour and the credit of their religion, with which they had been charged; and that, if any of them were found guilty, they sliould be i)unished, according to their demerit, with the utmost severity. With hearts as rigid and haughty 83 the Alps which they had lately passed, the de- puties replied to this touching and magnanimous apjieal : " We are not come here to listen to your faith. The lords of the seven cantons have, by the deed now made known to you, declared what their religion is, and they will not suffer it to be called in question or disputed. Say, in one word, are you ready to quit your faith, or are you not ?" To this the Protestants, with one voice, re])lied : " We will live in it — we will die in it ;" while the exclamations : " We will never renounce .it — it is the only true faith — it is the oidy holy faith — it is the only saving faith," continued for a considerable time to resound from different parts of the assembly, like the mur- murs which succeed the principal peal in a thunder- storm. Before lea\'ing the room, they were required individually to give their names to the clerk, when two hundred jiersons immediately came forward with the greatest alacrity, and with mutual congratu- lations. Perceiving that they could look for no favour from the deputies, who sternly refused them permission to remain till the rigour of winter wiis over, the Pro- testants made jireparatious for their departure, and gent Taddeo de Dunis before them to request an asylum from the magistrates of Zurich. Kiverda, the Papal nuncio, and the other priests he brought along with him, laboured hard to con- rince them of their errors, but did not succeed in making a single convert. Having heard of three ladies of great respectability, Catarina Rosalina, Lucia di Orcllo, and Barbara ili Montalto, who were zealous Protestants, the nuncio felt a strong inclina- tion to enter the lists of controversy with them; but they parried his attacks with so much dexterity, and exposed the idolatry and abuses of the Komish Church with such boldness aiid severity, as at once to mortify and irritate his eminence. Barbara di Montalto, the wife of the first physician of the place, having incurred his greatest resentuieut, he pre- vailed on the deputies to issue an order to apprehend her for blasphemies which she had uttered against the sacrifice of the mass. Her husband's house, which had been constructed as a place of defence during the violent feuds between the Guelphs and GhibeUines, was built on the Lake Maggiore, and had a concealed door, requiring the strength of six men to move it, which opened upon the water, where a boat w;i3 kept in waiting, to carry off the inmates upon any sudden alarm. I'his door he had caused his servants to open that night, in consequence of an alarming dream, which led him to ap})rehcnd danger, not to his wife indeed, but to himself. Early next morning the officers of justice entered the house, and bursting into the a])artment where the lady wiis in the act of dressing herself, presented a warrant from the deputies to convey her to prison. Rising uj) with great presence of mind, she begged them, with an air of feminine delicacy, to permit her to retire to an adjoining apartment, for the purpose of putting on some article of a])parel. This being granted, she descended the stairs, and, leaping into the boat, was rowed off in safety, before the eyes of her enemies, who were assembled in the court-room to receive her ! Provoked at this disappointment, the nuncio and deputies wreaked their vengeance upon the husband of the lady, whom they stripped of his property. Not satisfied with this, they amerced in a large sum two members of the Reformed Church who had refused to have their children ba])ti2ed after the Popifili ibnus. But the severest punialiment fell on a poor tnidesman, named Nicolas. He had been informed against some time before, for using, in a conversation with some of his neighbours, certain expressions derogatory to the Virgin Mary, who had a celebrated chajiel in the vicinity, called Madonna del Sasso; and the prefect Reuchlin, with the ^iow of silencing the clamours of the priests, had )nniished his impruderkce by condemning him to an imprison- ment of sixteen weeks. The poor man Avas now brought a second time to trial for that offence, and, after being put to the torture, had sentence of death passed upon him, which was unrelentingly executed by order of the deputies, notwithstanding the in- tercession of the Roman Catholic citizens ui his behalf. I'lie Protestants had fixed on the 3d of March 155,5, for setting out on their journey; and so bitter had their life been for some time, that, attached as they were to their native place, they looked forward to the day of their departure with joy. But before it arrived, the government of Milan, j'ielding to the instigations of the priesthood, published an edict, prohibiting the Locarnese exiles from remaining above three days within the Milanese teiTitory, under the pain of death ; and imposing a tine on those who should afford them any assistance, or enter into con- versation with them, especially on any matter con- nected with religion. Being thus precluded from taking the road which led to the easiest passage across the Alps, they set out early on the morning of the day fixed, and, after sailing to the northern point of the Lake Maggiore, passed the Helvetian balliages, by the way of Bellinzone, and reached Ro- goreto, a town subject to the Grison league. Here the Alps, covered with snow and ice, presented an impassable barrier, and obliged them to take up their winter quarters, amidst the inconveniences neces- sarily attending the residence of such a number of persons among strangers. After two months, the thaw having opened a paasage for them, they pro- ceeded to the Grisons, where they were welcomed by their brethren of the same faith. Being offered a permanent residence, with admission to the privi- leges of citizenship, nearly the half of then- number took up their abode in that country ; the remainder, amounting to a hundred and fourteen persons, went forward to Zurich, the inhabitants of which came out to meet them at their approach, and, by the kind and fratern;d reception which they gave them, consoled and revived the heaxtsof the sad and weary exiles. DEPENDENCE ON GOD. Even as the needle that directs the hour Touch'd with the loadstone, by the secret power Of hidden nature points upon the Pole; Even so the wavering powers of my soul, Touch'd by the virtue of thy Spirit, flee From what is earth, and point alone to thee. When I have faith to hold thee by the hand, I walk securely, and methiuks 1 stand More firm than Atlas ; but when 1 forsake The safe protection of thine arm, I quake Like -iviud-shaked reeds, and have no strength at all, But like a riae, the prop cut down, I fall. QUARLES. 142 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. SABBATH HUNGER. 1. The hunger I now notice induces a thankful re- cognition of the Sabbath some time before it arrives. It is well to be on the look-out for such a friend as the Sabbath, and a hungry hearer will discern the beauty of it througli the mists of the week. Hungry people have thought of their dinner hour before it overtakes them ; and it is nothing strange that one, hungry for the Word, should have pleasing anticipa- tions of the fe.ast day. 2. And he is not going to be late to public worship. Hunger for food, especially when it pinches, drives one up. You will not have to ring for that man often ; nor will the dinner be likely to cool by delaying for him. So the hungry hearer will hasten to his repast. He ias an excellent appetite, and will lose no part of the feast ; hence the untimely uproar of the church and pew door will not give notice of his arrival at the sanctuary. 3. And you will not catch the hungry hearer drowsij. Hunger and Drowsiness are not often m each other's company. When one is present, the other is generally missing. A hungry hearer sleepy ! Not he. He does not go to church to sleep. He goes to satisfy a craving appetite. That appetite makes di'vine truth sweeter than honey and the honey-comb. It would not look well to see a man drowsy at his dinner. It does not look even as well as that to see one so at the spiritual banquet. 4. And the hungry hearer will not be over nice about the l-ind of dish in which the food is served. There are hearers who will not accept of anything much short of an angel to feed them, and it must be from a " lordly dish ; " and the food itself must be prepared in the very nicest style of cookery, else they wiU not eat. Well, they are not hungry; that is the reason. They have been surfeited, or they are sick ; something or other has carried oflF their appetite. Not so with the hungry hearer. He has such a keen relish for his food, that he would be thankful for it if even ravens brought it. He is after the message, not the man. He cannot tell whether the preacher be in plain or splendid apparel. The dish — what does he care for that ? The food is what he wants. He was asked if the preacher was a fine speaker — if he made graceful gestures — if he wore a white or a black cravat — if his hair was properly trimmed. Poor man ! he was so hungry he could not tell. The feast was so refreshing that he forgot all about the cook. 5. The hungry hearer's attention is not easily di- verted. As for other hearers, they can prick up their ears at any other sound sooner than those from the pulpit, and send their eyes in all other directions more easily than in the right one. If a romping dog trots through the aisles, he must be looked up at. If there be a sound of a wheel of the passing Sabbath- breaker, he must be peeped at. Each of the mem- bers of Squire Loiterer's family must have a glance, as they severally make their untimely entrance. But the hungry hearer — his ear is fixed, his eye is fixed, and all because his heart is fixed. He wants to be fed. He came for the purpose. And he is not going to lose his errand. There must be high times in the sanctuary before his attention shall be diverted. 6. Nor is the hungry hearer quarrelsome about the varieties of the imlh served up for him. Some hearers want all bones, as if they were hyenas ; it must be all doctrines, or they have no ears for it. Others will not touch a bone ; it must be all meat. And milk — others must have that, and they will have nothing else. Each must have Ms own savoury dish, or all the fat is in the fire. But a keen reUsh for truth will make all sorts go well ; bones, meat, milk, law, gospel, promise, threatening — it is aU good. Hunger does not stop for the savoui-y dishes, and turn the nose up at all the rest. A good appetite is a most excellent thing to bring to the sanctuary. You will not see him disappointed that brings it. He is going to get something to eat, come what may. If there is any truth in the Lord's house, he is going to find it and be fed. 7. Nor is the hungry hearer easily frightened about the weather. Those that have poor appetites for the Word are easily put into consternation. If a cloud or two happen to scoul lor an hour or two about the sky, it does them up for the day. If it should actually drizzle, mercy on them, how could they venture out ! And the wind has got to keep all the weather-cocks in a particular trim, if it would not alarm them mto an exile from the sanctuary. But the hungry hearer broke caste with all that tribe some time ago. His hunger for the Word has tossed all his fears about the weather overboard. Boreas must steam it up well to shut him up in his house, and the sky must be a watering pot on a pretty large scale to give him any other home on the f^'abbath than the house of prayer. He is hungry — that is the great fact, and the elements must be terribly by the ears to cut him off from pubHc worship and house him up at home. — American Periodical. FIELD PREACHING. " I WONDER at those," says Wesley, " who talk of the indecency of field preaching. The highest indecency is in St Paul's Church, where a considerable part of the congregation are asleep, or talking, or looking about, not minding a word tlie preacher says. On the other hand, there is the highest decency in a church-yard or field, where the whole congregation behave and look as if they saw the Judge of all, and heard him speaking from heaven." Sometimes, when he had finished the discourse and pronounced the blessing, not a person offered to move — the charm was upon them still; and every man, woman, and child remained -ivhere they were, till he set the ex- ample of leaving the ground. One day many of hifl hearers were seated upon a long wall, built, as is com- mon in the nortliern counties, of loose stones. In the middle of the sermon it fell 'ivith them. " I never saw, heard, nor read of such a thing before," he says. " The whole wall, and the jiersons sitting upon it, sunk down together, none of them scream- ing out, and very few altering their posture, and not one was hurt at all ; but they appeared sitting at the bottom, just as they sat at the top. Nor was there any interruption either of my speaking or of the attention of the hearers." The situations in which he preached sometimes contributed to the impression; and he himself per- ceived that natural mfluences operated upon the multitude, like the pomp and circumstance of Romish worship. Sometimes in a hot and cloudless summer day, he and his congregation were under cover of the sycamores, which afford so deep a shade to some of the old farm-houses in Westmoreland and Cumber- land. In such a scene, near Hroujrh, he observes, that a bird perched on one of the trees, and sun_^ without intermission from the beg^inning of the ser- vice tiU the end. No instrumental concert could have accorded \vith the place and feeling of the hour to well. Sometimes when his discourse was not con- cluded till twilight, he saw that the calmness of the evening agreed with the seriousness of the people, and that " they seemed to drink in the word of God, as a thirsty land the refreshing showers." One of his preaching places in Cornwall was in what had once been the court-yard of a rich and honourable man; but lie and all liis family were in the dust, anil his memory had almost perished. " At Gwenap, in the same country," he says, " I stood on the wall, in the calm still evening, with the setting sun behind me — an almost inmnnerable multitude before, behind, and on either hand. Many likewise sat on the little hills, at some distance from the bulk of the congre- gation; but they could all hear distinctly while I read, ' The disciple is not above his Master,'' and the rest of those comfortable words which are day by day fulfilled in our ears." This amphitheatre was one of his favourite stations. He says of it in his old age : *' I think this is one of the most magnificent specta- cles which is to be seen on this side heaven. And no music is to be heard upon earth comparable to the sound of many thousand voices, when they are all harmoniously joined together, singing praises to God and the Lamb." At St Ives, when a high wind pre- vented him standing where he had intended, he found a little enclosure near, one end of which was native rock, rising ten or twelve feet perpendicular, from which the ground fell with an easy descent. " A jutting out of the rock, about four feet from the ground, gave me a very convenient pulpit. Here well-nigh the whole toivn, high and low, rich and poor, assend^led together. Nor was there a word to be heard, nor a smile seen, from one end of the con- gregation to the other. It was just the same the tliree following evenings. Indeed I was afraid on Saturday, that the roaring of the sea, raised by the north wind, would have prevented their hearing; but God gave me so clear and strong a voice, that 1 believe scarce one word was lost." On the next day the storm had ceased, and the clear sky, the setting sun, and the smooth, still ocean, all agreed with the state of the audience. There is a beautiful garden at Exeter, under the ruins of the castle and of the old city wall, in what was formerly the moat : it was made under the dii'cc- tion of Jackson, the musician, a man of rare genius in his own art, and eminently gifted in many ways. Before the ground was thus happily appropriated, Wesley preached there to a large asscnddy, and felt the impressiveness of the situation. He says : " It wns an awful sight ! So vast a congregation in that solemn amphitheatre, and all silent and still, while I explained at largo, and enforced thut glorious truth : ' Happy arc they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered !' " In another place he says : " I rode to lllanchland, about twenty miles from Newca-stle. The rough mountains round about were still white with snow. In the midst of them is a small winding valley, through which the Darwent runs. On the edge of this the little town stands, which is indeed little more than a heap of ruins. There seems to have been a large cathedral church, by the vast walls which still remain. I stood in the church-yard, under one side of the building, upon a ' - '0 tomb-stone, round which, while I was at prayers, the congreL'ation kneeled down on the grass. 1 'V were gathered out of the lead mines, from all parts— many from Allandale, six miles off. A row of children sat under the opposite wall, all quiet and still. The whole congregation drank in every word, with such earnestness in their looks that 1 could not ))ut hope that God will make this wilderness sing for joy." At Gawksham he preached " on the side ot an enormous mountain. The congregation," he says, " stood and sat, row above row, in the sylvan theatre. I believe nothing in the postdiluvian earth can be more pleasant than the road from hence, between huge steep mountains, clothed with wood to the top, and watered at tlie bottom by a clear winding stream." Heptenstall Bank, to which he went from hence, was one of his favourite field stations. " The place in which I preached was an oval spot of ground, sur- rounded with spreading trees, scoojied out, as it were, in the side of a hill, which rose round like a theatre." The congregation was as large as he could then col- lect at Leeds ; but he says : '' Such serious and ear- nest attention ! I lifted up my hands, so that I preached as I scarce ever did in my life." Once he had the ground measured, and found that he was heard distinctly at a distance of seven score yards. In the seventieth year of his age, he preachetl at Gwenap to the largest assembly that had ever col- lected to hear him; from the ground which they covered, he computed them to be not fewer than two- and- thirty thousand; and it was found, upon inquiry, that all could hear, even to the skirts of the congre- gation.— S(nUhey''s Life of Wesleij. iWiscclIaneous* Preaching Sermons over .a.gain. — Dean Colet (the founder of St Paul's School) gave, as a reason for the repetition of his Theological Lectures, that it was better to set wholesome cold meat before his hearers than that which was raw. Personal Improvement. — My gi-eat controversy is with myself ; and I am resolved to have none with others till I have put things upon a better footing at home. — Adam. Indwelling Corruption. — It is with our sins after regeneration, as it was with the beast men- tioned in Daniel, which, though it was wounded with a deadly -wound, yet liad its life prolonged for a season. — Flavd. The Danger of being in the Right. — It will sometimes be found, in struggling with superiors, that, although they will readily pardon your being in the -wrong, they will never forgive your being in the right. Reading Books Through. — "When I read, I wish to read to good piu-pose; and there are some books which contradict, on the very face of them, what appear to me to be first principles. You surely will not say that I am bound to read such books. If a man tells me he has a very elaborate argument to prove that two and two make five, I have something else to do than to attend to this argument. If I find the first mouthful of meat which I taste from a fine- looking jouit on my table is tainted, I need not eat through it to be convinced I ought to send it away. — Ctc'd. IlIz-considered Opinions. — "When men first take up an opinion, and then afterwards seek for reasons for it, they must be contented vnih such as the ab- surdity of it will afford. — South. Reproof of a Friend. — Considering how many difiiculties a friend has to surmount before he can bring himself to reprove me, I ought to be very much obliged to him. — Foster. 144 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Sailp Breatf FRIDAY. " Quicken me, O Lord, for thy name's sake." — Ps. cxliii. il. I f so poor a worm as I Maj' to thy great glory live> All ray actions sanctify, All my words and thoughts receive ; Claim nie for thy service, claim All I have, and all I am, Our best pleas in prayer are those that are fetched from the glory of God's o^vn name. Lord, do it, that thy mercy may be magnified, thy promise fulfilled, and thine interest in the world kept up; we have nothing to plead in ourselves, but everything in thee. — Henry. SATURDAY. " Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth." — Col. iii. 2, Prince of universal peace, Destroy the enmity ; Bid our jars and discords cease — Unite us all in thee. If once, like Hezekiah, we call in spectators to see our treasure, and grow proud of our gifts and com- forts, then is it high time for God, if he loves us in- deed, to send messengers to carry these away from us, which carry our hearts away from him. — Gurnall. SABBATH. " Satan would sift thee as wheat." — Luke xxii. 31. Unto God, my help, my hope. My safeguard, and my tower, Confident I still look up, And still receive his power : All the alien's hosts I chase. Blast and .scatter with mine eyes ; Satan comes ; I turn my face, And, lo ! the tempter flies ! Satan knows that an arrow out of God's quiver wounds the believer deep; and, therefore, when he accuses, he sometimes comes in God's name. He forges a letter; he, as it were, counterfeits God's hand, and then gives the writing to a poor disconso- late child of God, threatening him with banishment from his Father's house, and loss of his inheritance. The Christian, conscious of his unworthiness, weak- ness, and many miscarriages, takes it all for Gospel, sets himself down for an alien and an outcast, and builds to himself a prison of real distress upon false, imaginary grounds. Endeavour to deal with Satan's base suggestions as you use to serve the rogues and vagrants that come aljout the country — though you cannot keep them from passing through the toivn, yet you can take care not to let them settle there. When you find your sins so represented and aggra- ■yated to you, as exceeding either the mercy of God's nature, or the grace of his covenant, or the merit of Christ's blood, or the power of his Spirit, you may be assured this comes from hell, and not from heaven ; you may know where it was invented — 'tis one of the devil's own lies. — Gurnall. MONDAY. " Neman can serve two masters." — Matt. vi. 24. Be it my only wisdom here, To serve the Lord with filial fear — With loving graljtude ; And such a course may I display. By shunning every evil way. And walking in the good. A man may serve many masters, if they all com- mand the same things, or things subordinate to each other ; but he cannot serve two masters, if their com- mands clash and interfere with, each other. And Buch are the commands of Christ and the flesh in a suffering hour. Christ says : " Be thou faithful to the death;" the flesh says : "Spare thyself and secure the comforts of life." A dog follows two men while they both walk one way, and you know not which of the two is his master; stay but a little, till their path separates, and then you will quickly see who is the master. — Flavel. TUESDAY. " God in Christ."'— 2 CoR. v. 19. My heart is fix'd, O God, my heart Is fix'd to triumph in thy grace : (Awake, my tongue, and bear a part !) My glory is to sing thy praise. Till all thy nature 1 partake, And bright in all thine image wake. Would we know God's love and grace ? would we admire his wisdom and hoUness ? Let us labour to come to an intimate and near acquaintance with his Son Jesus Christ, in whom all these things dwell in their fulness, and by whom they are exhibited, revealed, unfolded to us. Seek the Father in the Son, out of whom not one property of the divine na- ture can be savingly apprehended, or rightly under- stood, and in whom they are all exposed to our faith and spiritual contemplation. This is oirr wisdom to abide in Christ, to abide with him, to learn him ; and in him we shall learn, see, and know the Father also. — Owen. ■VN'EDNESDAY. " I go to my Father."— John xvi. 10. From earth we shall quickly remove, And mount to our native abode — The house of our Father above — The palace of angels and God. How sweet for a dying believer to 'reflect that, though he is yet a stranger in the world of spirits, still the world of spirits are no strangers to him ! God, his Father, is there ; Christ, his Saviour, is there ; angels, his elect brethren, are there ; saints, who got home before him, are there, and more shall arrive every day. He has the blood and righteousness of Christ for his letters of recommendation, and the Holy Spirit for his introducer. He also goes upon express invitation from the King of the country. — Topladt/. THURSDAY, " What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to- wards me ? "— Ps. cxvi. 12. I'll praise my Maker while I've breath; And when my voice is lost in death, I'raise shall employ my nobler powers ; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While' life, and thought, and being last. Or immortality endures. I have nothing to give him but his own : I have nothing worth giving him or worth the taking. But know, he desires nothing beyond what thou art able to give, and he accepts according to that we have, and not according to that we have not. For free favours, he expecteth but free thanks ; free duties, fast affections. He hath given us the choicest and best things we have ; and we, in the way of thank- fulness, must return and offer the best things we have unto him. — Lev. ii. 1. The cakes for the meat-offer- ing must be made of the finest flour. — Taylor. *** A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh : Printed by .Iohn Johnstonk, residing at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: K. Gkoombkidge & Sons. Glasgow: J. K. M'Nair &• Co.; and to be Jiad of any Bookseller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 115 MISSIONARY ADDRESS. BY THE REV. DR DRASKKE, MAGDEBURG. \Vk have seen the oUi/alton that lies upon all Christians to be active in the missionary work. II. Let US now consult the Word of God, to understand hoie it is in our joiccr to he active in (//(V work. If particiijution in this woi-k con- sisted merely in uttering the wish that Chris- tianity might soon spread over all nations of the eartli, this were indeed little; or if the acti- vity re(iuired consisted merely in helonging to some one missionary society, undertaking some of the ordinary duties devolving on all inenihers in its management, or contributing so much yearly to its funds, even this were but litth;; — that man aleno knows MJiat is implied in this work, who has fully understood the imjjort of the saying of Christ : " Tray the Lord of the harvest that he would send labourers into his viueycTd." ' If any one supposes this, too, to be little, he understands not the meaning of the Lord's words. There is a good old proverb — J'ra;/ and labour; they who first us.d it miderstood the problem of Christian life. For true it is that man can do noth.ing without lU'ayer, worthy of his high calling. What he attempts to do without prayer is of no service to him ; wliat he does against i)rayer, that must injure him, whatever be the character of the work he is engaged in. The activity of the missionary spirit cannot be realized, apart from the con- tinued devotedncss of the sj)iritual power of num to the interests and progress of the divine kingdom ; indeed, it is nothing more than the entering on, and perseverance in, this direction — that is, in t!ie spirit of continued j)i-ayer. He who luis not his whole disposition and char;!ctei' in conforii.il y thereto, as lie wants the character of the true follower of Christ, so he is unfit to be a labourer in the work of missions. Four tliiu'j? are contained in the words, " Pray tlie Lord of the harvest that he would seutl labourers into his vineyard." I. The most immediate signification of the words is— Tray tlie Lord that he wimVl ]'rt'}arc lalmirinds his servants, and iiaming fire his ministers, he it is alone who Ciin make his servan.ts as winds, that purify the moral atmosphere of the world, and his minis- ters as flame, that gives heat to \\hat is be- numbed, and quickens the dead. 2. A seconf! signification of the holy i.recept is — Pray tlie Lord that he would male ijou, iiidi- rlr'aidhj, labourers in Itis inrk. It may be, that for those of you who have long since engriged in special pursuits here, it would be impossible to go into the uttermost ends of the earth. You have the cares of your families to occupy you. But, although this be impossible, still tliat con- secration for the missionary v.ork is all the more assuredly possible, and, in so far as you are Christians, is it demanded of you. One requires not to go from jjlace to place in order to engage in the proper labours of the missionary field — in spreading the dominions of tlie kingdom of Christ. If this kingdom, and what appertains to it, be that thing to which all other things are subordinated and directed; if your duties, and relations, and your whole transactions in life, are regulated by its spirit and laws; if to this kingdom you dedicate your home and heart, and employ your body and life; thus, if a states- man, serving your king to advance this higher kingdom ; if a soldier, using your arms fin* its defence; if a farmer, cultiv;iting your holds for it ; if a citizen, employing your business or trade, be it great or small, only f»r it. lu all this you are acting the jjurt of missionaries — you are labouring loi' the harvest of heaven; there is no jiart of your life or labours so unimportant or insignificant, as not now to become invested with the highest of all relationships, namely, those that relate to the kingdom of God. See, then, tliat no day i>ass in which :dl, rich and poor, high and low, young and old, do not re- peat and urge the prayer : Lord, thy work is so blessed, and the necessity is so pressing, and the harvest is so great, and the labourer.s ale so few indeed, I jjray thou wouldst make nic, even 146 THE CnRISTIAN TREASURY. liore where my lot is cast, a true helper in the great and good work ! 3. A third sense of tlie divine command is — Pi'uy the Lord of the harvest, that, throiigh you, he would call aJ^o your companions in life to the u-orJc of Ma xineyard. There are many different stations in life; and as the sun, moon, and stars, have each a separate glory, so iu the world, one rank is aboA'e another. But no man can be greatci', nor ou^ht to be less, than that where- iiuto God has ax^pointod him. Now there can be no higher development of humau nature, than iu being a Christian — that is, one sancti- fied of God, who finds his highest occupation and delight to be a labourer in advancing the cause, and a partaker of the joys, of his Lord. See, here is heaven ! — draw your friends towards it. Magistrates, teachers, parents — let each employ his position for promoting its ends. Each city should be a missionary society; each school, a missionary institution; each housfe, a missionary field. If this is not done, all our strivi]igs and arrangements arc in vain. It is for all this that prayer must be offered to the Lord of the harvest. It is by so doing that the kingdom of God will come in all; for then it will live in them. 4. The fourth and last signification is the most extended of all — Pray the Lord of the liar\est that he would awaken the ai/e in which we live to Work in his vineyard, and cancel the guilt of for- mer periods of inactivity. The work of mis- sions is as old as the world. From the very first God has sent messengers among men to be his witnesses. But the central jjoint of the ■whole missionary work, during all ages, is Christ. The apostles were nothing more than missionaries of Christ. Brethren! a great load of guilt belongs to our age, for its remissness in this work. Can Cliristendom longer remain in- different to the spreading of the kingdom of truth and righteousness over tlie earth ? If history taught nothing else, it at least teaches this, that the source of all the blessed progress to be made by the human race, is to be found in Chiist. If so, it surely cannot longer remain a matter of individual, but must become one public Christian interest of. Declare, then, by your deeds, that the matter .stands thus. Cry fo the world, and let the world hear your voice. The cry of necessity has long been heard. O liow much, then, have you to pray for ! — how earuestly have you to address your God! — and how great is the obligation that rests upon you to devote your whole life, up to its last breath, in the good cause I "NYe close these reflections with thankfuhiess to Him whose Word has taught us. Let us show our thankfulness in acting as becomes our high calling as labourers in the harvest of the Lord; and let the resolutions which we make, prove their divine power and acceptable- ness, that the carrying of them into effect may be our attainment through life without waver- ing ; I say, without wavering, for there is much to cause this in your missionary labours. Give not way to these influences. Let no doubts disturb you as to your inability to do anything — to accomplish ends whicli take in the v>hole world. Know that He who fed thousands with five baidey loaves and two small fishes, knows how to leaven the whole mass with a little leaven. Let not the insinuation disturb you, that one dare not let immediate wants re- main unsupplied for those that are remote; nor take the children's bread and give it to dogs. Know tliat to him who loves God and man, nothing is near or remote; aud that that which he gives to God's glory, is blessed to his house as much as what he employs for the good of his family. Be not deceived by the suspicion, that all your labours iu this kingdom are in vain. Know that whatever is done for the kingdom of God canuot be in vain. Already, in many lauds, are the idols overtlirown, and the truth triumi)hant. You see the dawn already — do you, then, fear the coming of the full noon ? Lastly, be not dismayed from the work, by the thought that each missionary society spreads only its particular kind of Christianity; and hence, that no one may spread that which is alone true and jiure. Know that true Christi- anity is the Christianity of the Bible; and on this common ground alone can the missionary cause be based aud blessed. God give us the good hope that the seed sown may bring forth fruit unto eternal life ! With this hope we commend unto thee the vineyard, 0 Lord. Let the seed fall, and the sun shine, and the rain descend, and the fruit grow; and grant us grace to do thy will, so that we may all attain to thy kingdom in heaven. Amen ! ROBERT HALL OF LEICESTER AND THE LATE DR BALMER. Two volumes of the Academical Lectm-es and Pulpit Discourses of the late Dr Buhner have just appeared,* and wiU, we doubt not, be hailed by all who knew the talents and worth of that eminent man, as a valuable addition to the stores of our Christian litera- ture. Besides the lectures and discourses, we liave, prefixed, an interesting and elegantly written memoir of their author — a few specimens of his correspon- dence, and a long and circumstantial account of seve- ral interviews and conversations he had 'with the celebrated Robert Hall of Leicester; and the publi- cation of part of which, in tlie Life of Hall by Dr Olinthus Gregory, excited, at the time, considerable interest. Dr Balmer had a singularly retentive memory; and we can well beheve that his reminis- cences are as faithful as they are minute. — We in- tend returning to these volumes in an early Number, and meanvi hile subjoin some portions of the reminis- cences referred to : — " The day on whicli I arrived at Leicester was Friday, the 1st of October 1810. Early in the fore- noon of next day, I called on Mr Hall at his own * "Academical Lectures and Pulpit Discourses." By the late Robert Balmer, D.D. Edinburgh : 1845. ROBERT HALL AND THE LATE DR BALMER. 147 house, and was shown into a room. I had scarcely put to myself the question, Shall I in a few minutes s one of the greatest men of this age y when the or opened, and m stepped Mr Ilall at a rajiid pace. "He Wivs arrayed in a tartan gown, and had a jjipe in his hand. 1 need scarcely say that 1 was exceedingly struck with his figure, countenance, and manner, which 1 had often heard described before, but of which I had not formed an accurate idea. His first words were : ' How do you do, Mr Baiiner ? I am ha]ipy to see you in Leicester, Sir. When did you arrive? How is l)r Wuugh, Sir I-- ' All these ques- tions he put, before allov.iug me time to answer one of them. After I had answered them, Mr Hall said : ' Well, Sir, on which part of the day will you preach for me to-morrow '; ' I replied that I had come for the purpose of hearing, rather than of preaching; but that, if 1 must take one of the services, 1 sliould de- cidedly prefer that at which there was usually the Bmaller audience. This point being settled, after a brief discussion, Mr Hall next said: ' You are to lodge, I understaiul, at Mr "s. !Mr is a member of Dr "s church ; and since he came to Leicester, he has regularly attended my ministry. In many respects, he is a most amiable and excellent man. There is just one thing in his conduct which I regret : he is much addicted to card-playing. Having no fanrlly of his ov.n, and never having con- tracted a taste for reading, he is under a strong temp- tation to go nuich into company. He is a man, too, of a social turn, and of singularly easy and delightful manners; so that he is nmch courted. In fact, he glides into society just hke quicksilver; ho knew more of the genteel people in Leicester in six weeks than I did in ten years. You nuist understand. Sir, that I am remarkably anti-social in my disposition. ; li re are scarcely any of the wealthier inhabitants ' this town with whom I am acquainted. Mr iviiows them all; and scarcely an evening passes but Ik is in C(ini])any. I once used the freedom to hint t'l iiiui my di^■upJ)robation of this part of his conduct; iiiiiuiating, that it might prove an obstacle to his iiniitidu, if he were to apply to sit down with us at the l^ord's table. He received my hints with great politeness; but requested that I would never again mention the subject, as his mind was made up.' "1' Pray, Sir,' continued Mr Hall, ' what is the con- duct of the Secession Churches hi Scotland in regard to card-playing;-' ' I informed him that the minis- ters universally disapproved of it ; that the great body of our people scrupulously abstained from it; but that there were probably a few, chiefly of the genteel, in our congregations, who occasionally in- dulged in it, and whose conduct was connived at, or not generally known. iMy parents, I added, taught me to regard cai'ds with a sort of religious horror, stigmatizing them as 'the devil's books.' 'That was exactly,' said Mr Hall, ' the language employed by my parents respecting theni; and yet, 1 think, the question relative to the lawfulness of card-playing attended with some difficidty. My attention w;us lately called to it pai-ticuliirly ; for, on occasion of the Leicester races, a few weeks ago, I preached a sermon on amusements.' "I observed to him, that there was an argument against card-playing often employed by jiious people in Scotland : and that was, that cards being a game of chance, involved an appeal to the Deity ; and must, of course, be unlawful, as the occasion diil not autho- rize any such appeal. I added, that this argument had never apneared satisfactory to my own mind; but that I felt reluctant to say so openly, lest I should encourage among my people a practice of which I disapproved. Mr Ifall observed, in reply : ' That argument is certainly a whimsical one; every- thing we do involves an appeal to the Deity. If I ^ . attempt to walk across the room, I may be s:iid to appeal to God; for 'it is in him wc move;' and to me it is a chance Avhether he will give me strength to execute my purpose. The argument appears to me a very unsatisfactory one ; but probably you act ■wisely in not exposing its insufficiency; for it is better that our people abstam from a bad practice, even from an insufficient rea,son, than indulge in it. And before we deprive them of an insufficient r^r.'on for avoiding what is wrong, we must be certain not only that v.-e have a good reason to substitute in its room, but that they are able to receive it.' " in the course of our conversation on this subject, I made a remark to this effect : that it seemed to me a strong reason for abstaining from cards, that they tended to occupy an unwarrantable portion of time, and thus furnished a temptation to sin. Hall : ' That is not a conclusive argument against them. It is merely saying that they interest us, which is the nature of all amusements; but all amusements are not sinful.' lialmer : ' But suppose an individual ftiuls, from experience, that the temptation to kill time, which cards present to him, is so strong that he cannot indulge in the amusement at all, without in- dulghig to excess.' JInH : ' Such a person ought to abstain altogether. But we are not ivarranted to found a general rule on the ex]ierience of a single individual. That, you know. Sir, would be the sophism vi^hich Aristotle calls,' &c. (quoting a Greek phrase Vi-hich I did not distinctly hear). Babner : ' What if the temptation in question is found, from experience, to be too strong for the majority of man- kind I-' ' Hell : ' If so, the majority are evidently bound to abstain, and the remainder will be charge- able with a culpable degree of self-con'idcnce if they do not abstain too. I would say, further,' he con- tinued, ' that, in all cases, card-playing for money is sinful, in my opinion. The Scripture teaches us to regard our property as a trust, and ourselves as stewards; and I do not think we are at liberty to take the property of another, and sport with it, as is done in every species of gambling.' ]\Ir Ha.ll added, that if any young friend were to consult him, he would strongly dissuade from cards; adverting to various reasons in support of his opinion — the offence given to pious persons, whose scruples vre are bound to respect; the danger of getting entangled with im- proper associates ; the jiroprietj' of avoiding whatever is questionable or doubtful; and the facility of ob- taiuuig recreations altogether unexceptionable, icc. •»«*■** " When conversing respecting the paucity of theological writers produced by Scotland, prior to the last sixty or seventy years, Mr Hall specified two or three of the few whom it had produced, ajid gave his opinion of them. He spoke of Samuel Ruther- ford as a very remarkable man ; said that his Letters were a wonderful book, and that he had read many of them with deep hiterest. He had looked, he said, into the writings both of l^Jjenezer and Ralph Erskine, the fathers of the Secession; he regarded them as containing nmch scriptm-al divinity, though sadly defective in style and arrangement; and seemed surprised when I preferred the sermons of Kbcnezer to those of Ralph, as he had always, he said, been taught to entertain the contrary opinion. " Mr Hall having made some inquiry respecting Dr Henry, the historian, once a minister in Berwick, and afterwards colleague <>f Dr j\lacknight, the com- mentator, in one of the chuixhes in Edinburgh, I informed him that, from all 1 had ever heard, I be- lieved Dr Henry must have been a very dry and un- interesting preacher. This led to a reference to the well-known anecdote relative to these two indivi- duals; accordhig to which, the one, when coming to church on a Sabbath morning, having got his clothes 148 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. wet by a heavy ra;n, ask 3(1 his collea;4iie to oiKcir.te for him. ' Go into the pulpit,' said the other, ' ami you ■will be dry enough.' Some doubt being exprocsed Avhich of the two it ivas to whom this remark was made, Mr Hall observed : ' I suppose. Sir, it was ap- plicable to both.' Inimediately checking himself, he added, ' And yet I should think that, to an intellec- tual audience — an audience that had any relish for scriptural exposition — Macknight must have been interesting, if the discourses which he preached re- sombled his published writings.' ' Pray, Sir,' I sr\id, ' do you admire Macknight as a commentator 'i ' ' Yes, Sir,"' he replied, ' I do, very much. I think it -(.'ould be exceedingly difficult, indeed, to come after him in expounding the apostolic Epistles. I admit, at the sametimc, that he has grievous denciencies. There is a lamentable want of spirituality and elevation about him; he never sets his foot into the otiier world, if he can get a hols to stop it in this ; and he never gives a passage a meaning which would render it applicable and useful in all ages, if he can iir'.d in it any local or tenip'u-ary allusion. He makes fear- ful havoc. Sir, of the text on which you preaclied to-day; his exposition of it is inimitably absurd.' The "text referred to was Eph. i. 8 : ' AMierein lie hath abounded tovrard us in all wisdom and pru- dence ;' and the ' v/isdom and prudence ' are ex- plained by MciCknight, not of the wisdom of CTod as displayed in the scheme of redemption, but of the wisdom and prudence granted to the apostles to enable them to discharge their office. " In connection with these statements, I may add, th.at J.ir Hall appeared exceedingly surprised Jind shocked on being informed that, while Dr Mackn;;:ht spent every other day of the week in theological studies, he was accustomed, by vray of relaxation, to read novels on the evening of the Sabbath. ' Dr Macknight,' he observed, 'must cither have denied the continued obligation of the Sabbath, or he must have been destitute of -personal religion.' " Mr Hall put various questions also respecting Dr ?,rCrio : ' I greatly admire,' said he, ' Dr M'Crie's histories. Is he not the best historian of Scotland you have ? In my opinion, he is much superior to br Robertson.' Balmcr : ' Do you prefer his style to Robertson's, Sir ? ' Hall : ' Yes. Sir, I do decidedly. M'Crie's style, v.'ith all its Scotticisms, is a more col- loquial, a more idiomatic, in short, a more English style than Robertson's. For my part, I don't admire Robertson's style ; it is utterly destitute of ease and simplicity. He s;;ys nothing in a natural manner. I don"t believe. Sir, that Robertson could have writ- ten directions for making a plum-pudding, without measuring and balanciiig the clauses of his sentences, with as much pomp as if he had been delineating a character or describing a battle.' " It is, perhay.s, jiroper to add, that in the interval between the two occasions on which I saw Mr Hall, he had been visited by Dr M'Crio, and had also read the Doctor's sermons on 'The Unity of the Church,' &c. With the Doctor's visit he was exceedingly gra- tilied; and expressed his regret that he had not seen more of one whom he characterized as ' so superior a man.' " FRESH EVIDENCES OF THE DIVINE TRUTH OF THE SCRIPTURES. BY THE REV. J. G. LORIMER, GLASGOW. EGYPTIAN MONUMENTS. The very idea of a written revelation from God im- plies completeness at once. It is something which man did Viot know — which his ignorance rendered necessary — which he cannot add to — which does not, like science or art, admit of progress — which is as com- plete on the day on which it is given as it can be after tlio lapse of himdreds and thousands of years. Nothuig, therefore, can be more subversive of the very idea of revelation, than that it admits of im- provement by man, and that there are discoveries to be made in the Word corresponding with the dis- coveries which may be made in the works of God. Some views of doctrine and of duty may be more fully considered, and more adequately understood by the Church, in one than at another period; but this is not owing to any change in the Word — it remains the same — but in the aUeniion which is directed to it by its professed friends. But though a written revelation be, m the nature of things, complete, there is no limit to the proofs of its truth. Its evidences may be.progressive, and ever enliirging. As truth is based upon reality, the more it is examined in itself, and in the circumstances in which it is communicated, the more must its reality appear ; whereas falsehood or imposture, being based upon nothing, the more it is explored in itself, and in its circumstances, tlie greater must be the tendency to resolve it into nothing. Accordingly, this, as might have been expected, is the very experience through which the revealed religion of God and the false religion of man are passing. The evidence of the one is ever growing — the plausibilities of the other (where there are any) are ever disappear- ing. God did not see meet to su])ply men with all the proofs of the divine origin of his revelation at once. He could have done so. But after giving siiffia'cnt evidence for every age, he, in accordance with the usual principles of his government, allowed men to find the remainder for themselves, by indus- trious search, in quarters which were accessible to them. Nay, he seems, in his all- wise providence, to have reserved some proofs for these latter days, the better to meet the Infidelity of " the last times." We do not allude to the fulfilment of prophecy taking place all around us — for this has been long in opera- tion ; nor even to the confirmations of geology, so far as it has gone ; but to evidences of the truth of the Scriptures which are furnished by painting and sculp- ture— monuments and remains in the East, which are now for the first time coming to light, after the neglect and burial of ages. I have been led to these thoughts by reading Dr Hengstenberg's (of Berlin) volume, entitled " Books of Moses Illustrated by the Monuments of Egypt." Before referring to any of the striking proofs of the minute accuracy of the Mosaic writings which he adduces, it may not be un- suitable to indulge in a few general reflections, sug- gested by the subject, and which may tend to give the greater point to the result of his inquiries. It is well known that there was no part of the written revelation of God, in other words, the Bible, which the French, and other Infidels of the last cen- tury, more incessantly assailed than the Old Testa- ment, and particularly the earlier part of it — the Books of Moses. They used to speak with some respect of the pure morality oi the New Testament, though their own practice outraged it from day to day ; but they hated its doctrines, and they had no patience for the Old Testament. They considered it FRESH EVIDENCES OF TUE DIVINE TRUTH, &c. 14: the most viilnerable part of the Bible, and doubtless ii']ied by their assaults, successful as they imagined, r|ioii it, to aim a blow at Christianity, and, through * ■ (_)ld Testament, to sweep revelation out of the : Id. Such was the scheme of Infidelity. Hence i writings of Voltaire and Volney, and others of i!i -III!' school; and hence the particular weapons .1 , ... k which they employed. The duration of the world was a favourite theme. By appeals to as- tronomy, and the crust of the earth in certain places, 1 1 to the antiquity claimed by heathen emi)ires and i^ions, they made out, to the satisfaction of those 1,1. o I'-i.s/ud the Bible to be false, that Moses was altogether mistaken as to tlie duration of the world in its present state; and being not trust- worthy here, was not to be believed iu anything else. Joseph, in Ilia government of Egyi)t, and the Israelites as a whole — their spLi-it, character, and history, particu- larly their proceedings m the destruction of the Canaanites — were favom'ite subjects of attack. Tlie inference from the whole was, that God could not possibly say or do the things which Moses rejire- sented him as saying or doing. By and by the con- clusion was drawn from the alleged discrepancy be- tween the statements of the Bible as to other nations, society, kc, &c., and those of profane authors (who were always, as a matter of course, believed in pre- ference to the sceptics) that the Scriptures were not written at the time which was alleged — m short, that they were modern inventions aping antiquity. A Chi-istiau, in our day, can afford to smile at such objections; but they had no small Vi-eight hi the age i.f scepticism, and particuhirly in Infidel circles; and ' von able Chi'istian writers did not think them I'onoath their notice. M. Lally"s Principles of the < hristian Faith, and Dr Findlay"s Vindication of the Sacred Scriptures against the Misrepresentations and Cavils of M. Voltaire, and Bishop Home's Letters im liiiiiiclity, are a proof of this, besides many other works .ii the evidences. Tn'i-,1 ih Infidelity, the just pimishment of u-religion aii'l ilegjueracy in the Christian Church, was allowed ill do its work, and terrible was the fruit, the reader d' ics not need to be reminded that there was no real \vi ight in the allegations to which I have alluded. They were baseless indeed, and produced no effect iiimn the faithful, save that of leading to investigation, and thorough exposure. It was soon discovered that no certain inferences can be drawn, adverse to the IMosaic account of the world's present duration, from -iiiresoive layers of lava — that the antiquity claimed I 'riental nations, and the " oceans of years," of lieh they spoke, wei-e mere boastful talk — that all which could claim the character of i)robability, whether as to eclipses or the succession of empires, went to the confirmation of the Scripture narrative — that the very things which were alleged to the dis- '' Ivantage of the Jewish nation,' surveyed in other ts, supplied internal evidence of the divinity of --.r religion — that heathen authors if they some- times contradicted the Bible, not less frequently con- tradicted themselves and each other; and that there was not the smallest reason to question the remote- ness of the antiquity in which the sacred books were written — that to imagine them the forgeries of later periods was but to involve Infidelity in new and in- superable diflBculties. The connection of Great Britain with India — the facilities of communication between the East and West — the writings of Sir "William Jones, and the investigations of Oriental scholars and societies ; above all, the evidence of Chi-istian missionaries in the heathen nations of the East, and the light whicb, by their books and their labom-s, they threw npon the vaunted history and religion of Paganism — all proved favourable to the cause of divine revelation at home, and ere long jiroclaimcd that the arguments upon iwhich clever Frenchmen had been resting, and of which they had made so great a boast, v.-cre but broken reeds to pierce and wound themse!vc<3. The evidences of the truth of the Bible have been gaining ever since. Not only has a better acquaintance with the pretensions of false religion — whether in anti- quity, or history, or science, or mu'aclcs — served to disprove them; not only have the iuteilectiial degradation and moral abominations which they nurse, proclaimed tlie necessity of a divine religion, to be wielded by a Divine Agent; but tlie opening up of the countries of the East to European travellers, particularly Syria and Egypt, has been the means of throwing no small adilitional light on the Bible, which is an Oriental book. It has been beautifully ordered," in God's providence, that while the nalicns of the West are notorious for perpetual fashion aiid change, those of the East are, to a great extent, im- mutable in their customs, and social habits, and ar- rangements. Hence intelligent men visiting the East at the present day, and simply recording their observations, may, all unknown to themselves, ill'ji'- trate a book, some parts of wliicli were written nearly four thousand years ago, as if it had been written but yesterday. One should mark in this the wonderful arrangements of Divine Providence in behalf of the evidence of dinne revelation. The objections of Infidelity, di'awn from the ancient astronomy supposed to conflict with the dates of Moses, may now be considered as at an end. The same may be said of its arguments drawn from the antiquity and character of the religions of her.tlicn- ism. The objections founded on the discoveries of modem geology are fast following the same course, if they have not alreadj"^ disappeared. Indeed, friends of revelation might not only neutralize the objection from geology, but without great diiiiculty turn it, in some respects, into an argument for the truth of re- velation, especially as facilitating the belief of great changes yet future. The resoiuces of Infidelity being apparently exhausted, the only thing which remains for the friends of the Bible now to do, in so far C3 its external evidences ai'e concerned, is to press these ad- vantages to the uttermost — to illustrate the truth of the Scriptures yet more and more from investigations into the ancient and modern condition of the countries where they were written. It cannot be doubted that there is much information yet to be drawn from these quarters ; and if (iod has been pleased to make a reve- lation of his will, involviL'g the most sublime rorults, for his OAN-n glory and the good of man, surely those who profess to have received this revelation should not be slow, but should feel it a sacred duty, to gather 150 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. together all the eyidence of which the case admits. This is due at once to God and the cause of truth and salvation. It is matter of joy that every facility for such a purpose has, in God's kind providence, been afl'orded. Of late years Palestine, Egypt, and Assyria, which were comparatively inaccessible, if not almost dan- gerous to the traveller, have become open and safe. They are brought within a few weeks of the British shore, while one of them (Egyjit) may almost be re- garded as a British stntiou. Among the signs of the times is the general interest in behalf of Palestine — a country which, in the cold ago of indiiierence or Infidelity, wiis seldom mentioned — never with the interest of classical tours — is now possessed of most ari'esiing charms, and is perambulated and illustrated on every side. Assyria, too, long forgotten and un- known, is beginning to be explored by missionary travellers. The Nestorians, ancient witnesses for the faith, stand upon its borders ; and a rich harvest may be expected from the ruins of Nineveh, as well as from the manners of the present generation — all illus- trative of Old Testament times. The interesting volume of the late Dr Asahel Grant on the Nesto- rians, whatever may be thought of his argument on " The Lost Tribes," affords a specimen of the Bib- lical ill'.istration which may be culled from Assyria and the neighbouring countries. Nor is it only in the opening up of ancient coun- tries that one may mark the hand of God. The in- struments oftentimes employed in collecting the evidence, not less clearly indicate the same divine operation. God makes use of agents v/ho have no eye to the Bible or its illustration in their labours. Sometimes he employs bitter enemies unwittingly to do the work of friends — Belzoni, Champollion, Rossellini, &c., natives of France and Italy, without thinking of the Scriptures, in pursuit of their own pleasure and enterprise as men of antiquarian taste, throw more light upon the ii'ord than some com- mentators. It is desirable to have impartial wit- nesses in connection with the evidences of revela- tion, and from whence could more unexceptionable ones be drawn than from lands noted for Infidelity ? Little did they imagine to what purpose their labours would be turned — a purpose far more valuable than that for which they prosecuted them. Little, too, did the Egyptian sculptors and painters of four thou- sand years ago, when pursuing their respective arts, imagine that they were storuig up for distant poste- rity materials for the proof of the diriuity of a book, compared with whose wisdom all the learning of Egypt was but foolishness. At the sametimethe Lord does not exclude from such a service those who can appreciate its value. A leading British investigator and collector is Mr Wilkinson, who now for the fourth tune has taken up his abode in Egypt. His Egyptian Illustrations reach to nine volumes, and the American translator of Hengstenlierg, speaking of him, remarks: " It is delightful to observe the re- verence with which he regards the Sacred Volume, and the gratification which every undoubted illustra- tion of its authenticity affords him." But what, it may be asked, " is the use of all this fresh evidence, drawn from the temples, mummies, and sepulchres of Old Egypt ? has not divine revelation a sufficiency of proofs already ?" It is not, litei-ally speaking, because it is necessary, that we rejoice in these new attestations; No, the evidence is ample as it st;mds, and has commanded the conviction of the most powerful and penetrating minds. But besides, to a friend of the Bible, the gratification of seeing Infidelity beat in one country after another — in its chosen citadels of strength — with the very weapons on -^vhich it was relying — it is interesting to many minds to have fresh proofs of its divinity. Some are apt, however unreasonably, to complain, in the things of religion, of all being old. Here the prejudice is met — an interesting department of the evidences is new. Then, it is well known, that while in some re- spects Infidelity is disappearmg, between earnest reli- gion, either true or false, there is still a large amount of avowed unbelief, and that a certain share of it is inseparable from Popery, and, in all probability, will grow with its growth. How desirable to meet it with growing evidences of divine revelation! The time may come when we shall need all our proofs. Again, the age is eminently the age of travelling. Men run to and fro, and knowledge is increased^ often it degenerates into trifling. Is it not important that the fruit of some of these travels, at least, should be hallowed by sacred associations, both to the ori- ginal traveller and to the readers whom he addresses from the press ? Besides, apart from the evidences of religion, though the mind be so well established that it needs no further conviction, is it nothing to have the Word, which is received as the Word of God, illustrated by the recorded customs of the past, as well as the present — to have its hidden beauty and point brought out more clearly than before ? Can anything connected, even remotely, with the Scrip- tures, be lightly thought of by us ? If it has been worth God's while to supply us with evidences of their divinity, can it be below our care to ascertain and collect these evidences, and to study them.* Surely not ; if we think what it is which the Scrip- tures contain and reveal — nothing less than eternal life to the chief of sinners, through a divine Re- deemer— nothing regarding them can be unimpor- tant. Whatever leads, with fresh interest, to the study of the Scriptures, containing the Pearl of great price, must be more precious than gold. PRECEPTS. First worship God; he that forgets to pray Bids not himself good-morrow, nor good-day. Think that is just ; 'tis not enough to do, Unless thy very thoughts are upright too. To doubtful matters do not headlong run ; What's well left off were better not begun. Fii-st thmk, and if thy thoughts approve thy will, Then speak, and after that thou speak 'st fulfil. Strive to live well ; tread in the upright ways. And rather count thine actions than thy djiys, Then thou hast lived enough among us here — For every day weU spent I count a year. Live well; and then, how soon soe'er thou die, Thou axt of age to claim eternity. Randolph. THE DOCTRINES OF MAYNOOTH. 151 THE DOCTRINES OF MAYNOOTH. PART lil. HOW THE CHURCH OF HOME TREATS THK Wono OF COD. i'HK Church of Rome dishonours the Bible. ' She de- aijs its srifiiciency lis a rule of fiiith and practice; she adtbs to it human traditions; she takes /row it divine commaiiduients; she denies its sole authority; she forbids its general perusal; she changes its divinely appointed and promised interpreter. I. .S'/n' denies the sujflri.eiic)/ of (he Bible, as a rule of faith and practice. — St Paul asserts its sufficiency veiy plainly, wlicn he says : " All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, he, that the man of God may be per/eel, thorouijhbi furnished vnto all good vi-orks." If Scripture be sufficient to lead a man to perfection, what more would he have ? But Rome, as usual, contradicting St Paul, declares that it is not sufficient ; and, in maintaining that position, scruples not to occupy the very ground v.liich Infidels are accus- tomed to take up in attacking the credibility of revelation. Thus, she tells us that the Scriptures are " nut pUnn tnoiujh to be a suiticient rule." David thought otherwise when he said : " Thy A\'ord is a light wnio my feet, and a lamp unto my path." The assertion involves a libel upon God's -wisdom, and comes in tlie end to this, that men, without the assist-.mce of God's Spii-it, may give more plain and complete directions as to the way of life and holiness, than men with it — which is l)lasphemy. The Bible is plain enough to show men the way to heaven ; for the " li'jht of the glorious Gospel shines" in its every page — it is " alle to make icige unto naloation.^'' It is plain enough to leave man without excuse, if, after perusing its messages of warning and of love, he refuse to listen to them. It is plain enough, if a man will but follov/ its directions, to keep him back from every sin, and to preserve him in the exercise of every virtue; for wcare told that it is "profitable for correction, for reproof, for instruction in righ- teousness.'''' And the ditt'erences which exist as to its doctrines, proceed not from a want of plainness in the Word, but in the want of perception or of docilit}' on the part of those who study it. True it has its Ktisteri'.s. But does Rome pretend to make these patent to the understanding ? It cannot be. They are mysteries which all that man can think or say will not clear up; they are simijle ouly to tlie God that has revealed them. But the truth is, the Bible is too p^«i'w for the Church of Rome. It too ^;/(( ?'«/*/ pre- dicts her rise ; it too plainly characterizes her apostasy ; it too plainly repudiates her doctrines and her policy ; and, therefore it is, she would fain have men believe it all mystery together, that she may be allowed to add to and cxjdain it, and thus cover her own iniquity. How fearful is the guilt of conduct such as this ! II. She a'lds to it human traditions. — A heavy charge, and involving a heavy curse, but nevertheless true. The Lord says : " Ye shall not add unto the word which I command you ; neither shall ye diminish aught from it."— Deut. iv. '2. Again : " What thing soever /command you, observe to do it; t'nou shalt not add to it, nor diminish from it." — Deut. xii. 3'2. And yet, again : " If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book."— Rev. xxii. 1,0. Now Rome has added to the "Word, and incurred the curse. She has added to it — 1. Bi/ introducing the apocryphal hool-s into the Canon. — These books are not the Word of God. All external evidence is against them. The testimony of the Chm-ch of God, both Jewish and Christian, has been from the first against them; and they were not recognised, even by the Church of Rome, till the year 1.545. (1.) Josephus, who gives a list of the Old Testament Scriptures, as received by the Jews in his time, does not mention one of the apocryphal books. (2.) There are, in the New Testaraent, about six hundred quotations from the books of the Old; but not one of these is froni the Apocrypha. (3.) The most distinguished of the fathers, in the cata- logues which they give of the books of Scripture, omit tlie hooks of the Ai^ocri/jiha, many of them ex- jiressli/ condem n ing them. (4. ) The Council of Laodi- cea, which, in the fourth century, fixed the Canon, did not recognise them. (5.) The Council of Carthage, which mentions them in the fifth century, only per- mits them to be read in the churches, " for example of life and manners," without appointing them to " establish any doctrinp." Such is the testimony of Jerome, who is a distinguished saint in the Romish calendar. After this time various portions of the Church recognised them as possessed of more or less authority; but they were never sanctioned by a general council till the year 1545, by the Council of Trent, when a decree asserting their divine autho- rity was passed— only fifty bishops being present — a considerable minority of whom opposed it. How miseraljly this comes short of the evidence by which the canonicity of the books of Scripture is supported, we might go on to show, but it is un- necessary, and would be out of place. There is no e^^dence whatever for the canonicity of the Apo- crypha. Indeed, Dupin, a Romish historian, says, in his History of the Canon, that '• theii- authority (that of the books of the Apocrypha) is not founded on the testimony of any creditable author." And so indefensible do learned Papists feel the decree of the Council of Trent on this subject to be, that we are told, that in Germany, vdiere much attention has been paid to everything connected with the books of Scripture, some of them " have invented an absurd distinction of proto-canonical and deutero- canonical; claiming for the apocryphal books only the second of these characters — which amounts, in substance, to a confession that they are not canonical at all." * The internal cridenec is against them. (1.) They contradict each other; (2.) They contradict the canonical Scriptures; (.'5.) Many parts of them are at variance witli the authentic records of profane historians. All these things have been repeatedly proved. -f- It is of books thus demonstrably uninspired and uncanonical that the decree of the Council of Trent « Dr Cunningham's Edition of SlilUngfleefs Answer to Gotlicr, p. 121. t See Home's Introduction, vol. i. ; Dupin's History of the Canon ; Glasgow Lectures on Popery. 152 THE. CHRISTIAN TREASURY. says : " Whoever shall not receive, as sacred and canonical, all these books, and every part of them, as they are commonly read in the CathoKc Church, axid are contained in the old Vulgate Latin edition, let him he accursed" Can it be denied, then, that Rome adds to the Word of God I But this is not all ; she adds to it yet further — 2. By declaring w/iat are termed the apodoUcal tra- ditions to heimrt of the Word of God. — This is what she calls the tinwritten Word. The writieiiWovd comprises the Old Testament, Apocrypha, and New Testament. The unwritten Word, again, consists of oroZ tradi- tions alleged to have been received from Christ. and his apostles. The idea oi proving these traditions to be apostolical, and, therefore, to belong to the Word of God, is altogether out of the question; and until they can be proved Etpostolical, they cannot, of course, be received as such. What is written remains, and remains the same; or if, in any case corrupted, the corruption n^ay be detected by a comparison of manuscripts. But what is unicritten, merely oral, is incapable of such a proof. How can the Church of Rome prove that her traditions came from the apos- tles ? She may refer us to the writmgs of the fathers ; but Iiow can she prove that the fathers received them from that source ? And besides, the fathers contradict each other. How are we to come at the truth between them? How, but by referring to the Law and to the Testimony? And thus are we just brought back to the written Word, which it would be much better for us never to leave. The case is shortly this : Those traditions which agi-ee with the written Word, are unnecessanj; and those which contradict it, ai"e blasphemous. And it is chiefly in the latter kind that Rome deals. For what are the traditions which she elevates to a level %vith the words of inspiration ? We are not aware of the existence of any book containing a summary of what the Church believes imder the head of tradition ; but we suppose her traditions must sanction and embody her ov.'n system of doctrine. And if it be so, then we know that her traditions are false; for her doc- trines make void both Law and Gospel, and never could have come from tlie same source from which the Bible came. " To the Law and to the Testimony ; if they speak not according to that Word, it is be- cause there is no light Ln them." We will pursue this subject in our next. EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLERS NOTE-BOOK. BY THE REV. W. K. TWEEDIE, EDINBURGH. THE PASSES OF THE ALPS. As we advance nearer to the south of Europe, and find at once a more geniiil clim;ite and a more produc- tive soil, it is instructive to notice how fast men de- generate— how sin grows more vigorous or bold, and right principle less influential or restraining. Were the views of InHdelity true, then the more beneficent the Creator, the more grateful and devout should be the creature; but the truth is the very reverse of this. Just in proportion as God over all lavishes his providetnial boimty upon us, we often become more devoted to the gift and less to the Giver. Pro- ceed from Britain to France, from France to the north of Italy, from the north of Italy to the south — for example, to Naples — and finally, from Naples to Sicily — at each remove you find the productions of tlie earth more abundant or spontaneous, while "brighter suns dispense serener light;" and yet at each remove the moral being degenerates — God is less regarded, superstition becomes more and more dominant, and men more and more spiritually en- slaved. If you carry out the remark to climes yet more remote, you vdll find that in countries where the year is one long autumn, or where three of cur seasons are perpetual, man deteriorates in proportion to the exuberance that surrounds him. This we think an indirect, but not obscure, demonstration of the necessity of something more than natiu^e or pro- vidence afibrds, ere man can be refitted and enabled to fulfil the high purposes of his destiny on earth — the glorifying of liis God and preparing to enjoy him. Let a ceaseless autumn pour the alfluence of Jehovah's bounty into the lap of man — let the sun above com- bine with the eai'th beneath to render him happy as an animal; all this will only help forward his dege- neracy as a spiritual being, unless the power of God's Spirit combine with the beneficence of his providence to train and elevate his mind. The truth can make him free, but nothing else can do so; and many thoughts like these were forced upon us as we de- scended into the VaUej' of Aoste. Far up on the mountain — at a height, perhaps, of five thousand feet — we saw patches of cultivation; but as the temperature and productiveness of the Valley increased, man appeared to us more enfeebled and degraded. It was at Aoste that we first saw in- dividuals, in great numbers, afflicted with the double disease of goitre and cretinism — eitlier of them pain- ful— together, loathsome. The former begins to appear at all ages — from twelve, ten, or even eight years — and is found almost exclus ively among the poor. In a goitre patient, the thyroid gland enlarges so as to form an enormous mass of flabby tumour; the chin protrudes ; and from the angle which the coun- tenance is thus made to assume, the forehead appears flattened, sometimes like that of a Carib ; the counte- nance becomes sallow and cadaverous, and the whole frame is generally listless and torpid. Whatever be the origin of the disease — wliether it be produced by the use of snow-water, as some suppose, or by the exhalations and heated air of the valleys affecting the throat and neck, as others allege — it is so un- pleasant to the eye, that one's first instinctive feel- ing is to tirm from it in disgust. But when to the state of goitre is added that of cretin, tlie victim of the twin malady becomes an object of deep commiseration. The latter aSects the mind, as the former the bodj'. The eye is dull and lustreless. Deafness supervenes. The hands are often deformed; the limbs and feet are distorted; the tongue refuses to perform its functions, or utters only eldrich screams, or as wild unmeaning laughter; so that when a,ll these meet in one poor mortal, dis- figuring his body, and all but destroying his mind, he becomes like a living hospital of disease. Yet, it is beautiful to notice — it half reconciles one EXTRACTS FROM A TRAVELLER'S NOTE-BOOK. 153 to the spectacle — to observe hov/ affection clings to these hapless beings with oljvious tenderness. As a compensation for the wretchedness which parents bequeath to their diseased otl'spring, we often notice that they hang witli most intense regard over tlie feeble or the decrepit of tlieir family; and by this fine exhibition of the ct.t medicatri.c witHnu', the misery which cannot be removed is soothed. But for this strongly developed instinct, the Valley of Aoste would be yet more i^Tctched than it is. While the cretins lie basking by the waysides, or at the corner of streets, in all the imbecility of helpless idiocy, affection tends them just as mothers tend their in- fants ; and cretins in Italy and Switzerland are like the innocend of Scotland — somewhat of a sacred caste. And what is the scale which they hold in (-fod's mys- terious scheme of providence ? Incapable of rational acts, are they to be created anew in a sense different from that commonly meant by the words ? Are they to be dealt with as responsible beings ? Or — But there is no end of such questions. In the streets of Aoste, as we looked upon some of these beings, the words were forced upon us : " Be still, and know that I am (rod :" " Willnot the Judge of all the earth do right !•'" Their future jiortion is among the things not revealed, tvliich belong to the Lord our God; and where he has been silent, it is vain for us to speculate. It has been said that Bonaparte ordered all the cretins to be destroyed at their birth. If there be truth in the assertion, that cretinism is un- known in the uplands, that might suggest some ex- planation of the origin of this affecting malady. It was at Aoste (Augusta Praetoria) that we iirst saw in masses the remains of Roman architecture. There are here an amphitheatre, and a triumjihal arch reai'ed in honour of Augustus, ■who was the first to subdue the Sallaces — the ancient inhabitants of the Valley. Even at the distance of nineteen centuries, the arch testifies to the taste, while it tells of the triumphs, of ancient Rome. It renders man yet more a marvel, when one sees such opposite properties blended in the same individuals. The arch loefore us was based on the freedom, or cemented by the blood, of forty- four thousand immortal beings; while yet the symmetry and elegance that mingle with such grinding oppression, tell how wonderful is man, even amid his ruins ! Even though the ancient city was taken, sacked, and rebuilt, the lusts of the Romans were not satisfied. An ani])hitheatre must be reared for the exhibition of their barbarous sports — to tell to all posterity at once the massive elegance of Roman architecture, and the unquenchable thust of Roman conquerors for blood. But the abominations of one d3Tia9ty — the Caesars — have given place to those of another — the Popes ; and Popery is reigning here over men's souls, as Roman tyranny once ruled their bodies. One cannot esti- mate the importance of the Reformation aright, or thoroughly understand the need of divine power to acl-.ieve that signal revolution, till he has seen Popery domineering, without restraint, over men's minds and souls, in unreformed countries. At Aoste, for instance, and indeed everywhere in the Valley, the M'venty thousand souls who inhabit the Dutchy aj)- lear to be sunk in deepest ignorance. In the cathe- dral, the priests exhibit a thorn of the Redeemer's crown, a jawbone of John the Baptist, and other lying wonders, so revered or worshij)ped that it is scarcely too much to say : '• These be thy gods, O Israel," or to add: " They that make them arc like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them." (I's. cxv.) Indulgences seem the chief religious com- modity, and these are offered to the faithful in abundance. " The vision of all is become as a book that is sealed." When shall the day arrive " when the deaf shall hear the words of the book, and the eyes of the blind shall see out of obscurity and dark- ness?" (Isa. xxix.) In the market-place of Aoste, there stands a column bearing the following inscription : — " Hanc Calvini fuga erexit, Anno MDXLI. Religionis constantia Reparavit. Anno MDCCXLI." There is some difficulty in pronouncing with cer- tainty regarding this column; for both history and tradition vary in the accounts which they give. The common opinion is, that Calvin, after visiting the Duchess of Fcrara, at whose court he is known to have resided, returned by Aoste, and preached the doctrines of the Reformation there, as he had done elsewhere in Italy. But persecution drove him thence. The pillar commemorated the event; and renewed, as it was, after the lapse of two hundred years, it pro- claims that another Calvin is needed to preach again the Gospel of the Son of God. The most rigid cen- sorship in all that is connected with literature and religion here prevails, and the effects are visible in the general prostration of mind. The Valley of the Doire, which flows by Aoste to the Po, though rich, is not healthy ; but the antidote as well as the bane is there ; and between Aoste and Courmayeur (Curia Major) we passed some medicinal springs, formerly much frequented. The Little St Bernard Avas on our left, and at night we took up our abode at the base of Mont Blanc, with some of its glaciers full in view. At day-dawn, on the 30th of August, we left Cour- mayeur to make the passage of the Col de la Seigne, the Col de Four, and of Bon Ilomme^so many spurs from the monarch of mountains. AVe were now mounted upon mules; and as we, our two Martigny guides, with the two muleteers, all emerged from the courtyard and proceeded along the mountain pass, not abreast, for that was impossible, but in a line, the cavalcade ^vas rather tiizinn: ; but ere the day was done we had reason to think nnicii of our new ac- quaintances, the muleteers and mules. It seemed strange to meet with hot springs in this ice-bound region ; yet, shortly after starting, we passed one where the supjily is copious. Our object now was, not to ascend Mont Blanc, but to climb to the points where the most commanding views upon tlie moun- tain, from summit to base, are enjoyed. At Entreves, we came in sight of the (ilacier of Brenva, reputed one of the finest on the Alps. A mass so magnificent and singular is best described by comparing it to an 154 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. ocean congealed in a moment, amid its wildest headings. The resemblance to waves is perfect. The crevices are often fathoms deep ; so that travelling over the glacier, were that jiossible, would literally correspond to the Psahnisfs description : " They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted within them." The Ruize* of Brenva suggests the thought, that all the snows on Mont Blanc had been suddenly dissolved — ^had flowed in this direction, and been suddenly congealed again in their flow. The debris from the mountain is piled in masses on the glacier, favouring the study of the geolog-ist, and illustrating the theo- ries of Agassiz and others; but the moraines destroy the picturesque effect of the sea of ice. At the Glaciers of Jliage, Fresnai, and Broglia, the moraine lies in such piles as to resemble a shattered mountain. It was near this glacier that we first distinctly heard the war of the avalanche. Tiiey were fre- quent throi'.gliout the day — literally like thunder in loudness, but more brief in duration. The di-eary Lalce of Combal, is like the pelican's home, so lonely and desolate is the spot. Yet here, also, we found traces of French hardihood and ambi- tion. The ruins of a redoubt, reared to defend the pass, are still standing— another monument of mad ambition. By a dyke and sluice at the outlet of tlie lake, the waters are dammed up; and were it needful, as it has been, to defend the pass against an enemy, he could be swept away hy the flood rushing down the steep declivity. We felt it strange that even here men should have found it necessary thus to plot and counterplot each other. From the lake a steep climb of half an hour through the Allee Blanche brought us to tlie Col de la Seigue, at the height of seven thousand five hundi'ed and seventy-eight feet above the level of the se;;,, or just about half the elevation of the mountain. The dark a,nd savage wildness which predommates all around, the depths into which even the eye can scarcely pene- trate, and the clouds roiling far below us, made up a scene to vfhich, even among the Alps, we had not been accustomed. Nothing was heard save the wail or scream of the lonely marmot, and the roar of distant waterfalls; but Mont Blanc was hid in clouds, and its stupendousness was wanted to realize our expecta- tions. Amid a scene like this, one can more than ever understand the meaning of the words : " The mountams shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that lia,th mercy on thee." We allowed the guides, vi\i\\ tlie mules, to descend into the Valley of Mottet, while we lingered for a little behind in this region of inexpressible grandeur. It is the spirit of man that communes with God, and that spirit may often be independent of external aids. The Son is the way to the Father, and through him there is access, in the dungeon or at the stake, as easily as on the summit of an Alp; yet when the soul of a believer has learned the way to the throne, there are external objects which solemnize his mind and render devotion more easy. The Sph'it of Crod may bless such things to enable us more sensibly to ; ^* The local name for glacier. realize the majesty and the nearness of the Omnipre- sent. Amid the dark depths of the Black Forest we had felt thus solemnized; and now, to be alone at such a height, completely insulated from every human being, and no eye seeing, no ear hearing, but that of the Omniscient, tends to detach the mind from the things tliat are seen and temporal. Eternity feels nearer; and the soul, in its loneliness, now under- stands v/hy Moses v.-as taken to a mountain to be alone with God — why Jesus retii'ed to a mountain apart to pray — why he loved the desert and the soli- tary place, where God was near, and all besides re- mote. No doubt, this may not be devotion — the reli- gion of the Spirit. It may be only imagination, or sentiment, turned in a particular direction. But the Christian can test his emotions by a standard that is infallible. Do they tend to humble him ? — to bring out more thoroughly his own insignificance, con- trasted with the glory of his God — the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ ? Is sm felt to be more sinful, because it impedes om- access to God .^ and holiness to be more lovely, because it is the medium in which God is enjoyed? In short, amid such scenes, as everywhere, does the Christian feel that Christ is increasing — that self is decreasing ? Then his feelings tend to heaven; and one hour of such communing with God is better than a thousand with his creatures. MY PILGRIMAGE. Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, Jly staff of faith to walk upon. My scrip of joy, (immortal diet I) My bottle of salvation. My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; And thus I take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body's balmer, AVhile my soul, like peaceful palmer, Travellctli tow'rds the land of heaven — Other balm will not be given. Over tlie silver mountains. Where spring the nectar-fountains, There will I kiss The bowl of bliss, And drink mme everlasting fill Upon every milken hill ; My soul will be a-di-y before. But after that will thirst no more. Sir Vf altkk Raleigh. THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDERS ON THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST. One of the means used by John Williams for the hi formation and improvement of the converted South Sea Islanders, was the institution of a weekly meet- ing, at which they might converse on reUgious sub- jects among themselves. Williams himself presided, and stated the subject of conversation — doctrinal, or as it might be, practical or devotional — and thereafter the islanders freely gave their thoughts upon it — if they felt difficulties, stating them, that they might tie solved — if they saw clearly, shoiving how and alwa,ys deeming it essential to support what they said by a portion of Scripture; and AVilhams himself occar MYCONIUS' DREAM. 155 Hionally proposing a, question, starting an objection, or throwing out a remark, as circumstances miglit dictate. The meetings excited great interest, and were followed with the very best results. In one of his letters, V>'illiams gives us the following specimen ■of them, being an account of a meeting at which the subject of conversation was — the divinity of Christ : — " ' I firmly believe,' said the first speaker, ' that Jesus Christ is God as well as man.' •■ Are you not mistaken ?' was the reply; ' was not .Icsus man, and man oidy?' 'I believe,' rejoined the first, 'that Jesus was really man, for he had both the body and soul of man ; but he was God as well as man, for he took on himself the form of man. If he had been only man, he could not have died for sinners.' ' Is not that a proof,' asked another, ' that he is not God ? If God, why die.^ ' First speaker : ' His dying only proves him to be man ; his rising again proves him to he Gnd.' ' And if,' added another, ' he was only man, why so much ado about his death .^ Many have died cruel deaths; Paul was beheaded, and Peter •was crucified, but there is not so much said about their deaths.' ' Ah ! but,' rejoined another, ' lately Tuihe died among us, and there was a gi'cat ado about his death — v.luit he said, and how happily he died.' ' But stop,' cried one, ' did the sun hide himself in darkness at Tuihe's death ^ — did the rocks rend at 'i'uihe's death ? — did any exclaim at Tuihe's death. Truly this was the Son of God ? ' ' But did not Jesus eat food when on earth, and will God eat food ? ' 'I say,' was the answer, ' he was man as well as God — therefore did he eat food.' ' Give us some other proof that he was God,' said another. ' The various mira- cles that ho wrought,' was the reply. ' But did not Peter and all the apostles work miracles ? ' ' Yes ; but they did their miracles with borrowed power; and, when they returned, did they not tell Jesus that they did all in his name, and not in their own; and even that tiiey had cast out de\-ils in his name ? ' Another said, ' Is not the star that led the wise men from the Kast a proof of the divinity of .fesus ? ' ' But, if really God, would he have been laid in a manger ? ' ' Yes,' said another; ' for did he net humble himse'lf, and lay aside his glory as God 'i If he had come in his gloiT, would not man have exceedingly feared ? We know what Moses said.' Another added : ' AVhen Jesus was baptized by John, did not God say from heaven. This is my beloved Sou ? Did not the Spirit descend upon him — did not the heavens open ? and what is all this, but proof that lie was really God?' ' But have not others been spoken to from heaven '^ ' ' Who — who ? ' ' Paul was addressed from heaven — Peter was addressed from heaven.' ' True, but did God say to Paul, Thou art my beloved Son ? ' Another, ' Could any man feed five thousand v,-ith .i fev.- loaves and fishes?' Another, 'Angels at- tuuded at the birth of Christ: a great company.' ' Angels attended also about John.' ' An angel brought the message to Zachari:\s; but angels did not attend at his birth, and sing. Glory to God,' iic. Another, ' If he had been only man, he would have been in the cave to the present day.' ' Don't you know that his disciples stole him away ? ' ' Was he stolen ?— that's a lame tale. If the soldiers were asleep, how could they know he was stolen ? ' ' Well, how can you ])rove that he is gone to heaven ? ' ' Wiis he not seen on earth after he rose ? did he not ask meat of his disciples, and converse with them ? ' ' Stop, friend,' one replied; ' is it general with dymg men to rise again, and go about and ask meat, and converse with their friends ? ' ' You talked about miracles; does not our missionary cure the lame, the halt, and the blind ? ' Answer, ' How many people did Jesua bleed ? to whom did he give medicine ? Our missionary cures by giving medicine ; Jesus did so by his voice only.' * Stay; did not Jesus mix clay with spittle and anoint the eyes of the blind ? ' ' But is that medicine ? You take clay, or sand, or coral, and anoint the eyes of Taeva (a blind man), and see what a miracle you will make of it.' ' Is it a Godlike action to pray ? is there not something un-godlike in praying ? ' ' For you, the prayerless, did he pray.' " Another s.iid, ' he believed he was God, because he said, I and iny Father are one; and, I am the Alpha and Omega; and because the Father addressed hmi, saying, Tliy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; a sceptre of righteousness,' &c. " Another believed it, because he fully satisfied the justice of God; and, when cast off by his Father on the cross, yet bore the weight of man's guilt by him- self. ' He is also,' added this native, ' to judge the world, and must therefore be God.' " Another said, ' He himself has promised, Where two or three are met in my name, there am I in the midst of them ; and, I will be with you always, even unto the end of the world. Now how can he fulfil these promises ? While Ave are gathered here to v/orship and pra}^ others are gathered in distant lands — some in Britain ; and how can he be with them all if he is not God ? ' " MYCONIUS DREAM. In the life of I^Iyconius, the friend of Lutl'.er, as given by Melchior Adam, we have the following beautiful and striking account of an event which proved the turning-point in his history, and led him to devote his energies to the cause of Christ : — The first night that he entered the monastery, intending to becone a monk, he dreamed; and it seemed as {f he was ranging a Aast 'wOderness alone. Suddenly a guide appeared, and led him onwards to a most lovely vale, watered by a pleasant stream — but of that he was not permitted to taste ; then to a marble fountain of pure water. He tried to kneel and drink — when, lo ! a crucified Saviour stood forth to view, from whose wounds gu;hed the copious stream. In a moment his guide flung him into the fountain. His mouth met the flowing wounds, and he drank most sweetly, never to thirst again ! No sooner was he refreshed Idmself, than he was led away by his guide, to be taught what great things he was 3'et to do for the cmcified One whose precious wounds had poured the lining water into his soul. He came to a wide- stretching plain, covered with waving grain. His guide orders him to reap. He excuses himself by saying, that he was wholly unskilled in such labour. " What you know not, you shall learn," -was the re- ply. They came nearer, and saw a solitary reaper toiling at the sickle witli such prodigious effort, as if he were determined to reaj) the whole field himself. The guide orders him to join this labourer, and seiz- ing a sickle, shovicd him how to proceed. Again the guide led him to a hUl. He surveys the vast plain beneath him, and, Avonderiug, asks how long it will take to reap such a field with so few labourers ? " Before winter, the last sickle nmst be thrust in," replied his guide. " I'roceed with all your might. The Lord of the harvest will send more reapers soon." A\'earied witli his labour, j\l3conius rested for a little. Again, the crucified One was at his side, wasted and marred in form. The guide laid his hand on Myconius, saying: "You must be conformed to him." With these words the dreamer awoke ; but he awoke to a life of zeal and love. He found the Saviour for his own soul, and he went forth to preach him to others. He took his place by the side of that noble reaper, Martin Luther. He was stimulated by his ex.ample, and toiled with him in the vast field, till labourers rose on every side, and the harvest was reaped before the winter came. 158 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. iBuilt) BrcatJ. FRIDAY. "Not by might nor by power, but. by my Spirit, saitli the Lord ot liosls."— Zech. iv. 6. 'Tis stranije man should refuse to bathe. Though near Bcthesda's pool ; But none can even wish for faith, While love of sin bears rule. Do thou, dear Saviour, interpose, Their stubborn wills constrain ; Or else to them the w.iter flows. And grace is preach'd, in vain. If any man fancies that lie can unrobe himself of sin as of a garment, that he can change his habits as lie can his clothes, we would remind him of the question and declaratiou of the prophet : " Can an Ethiopian change his skin, or a leopard his spots ? then ye who have been accustomed to do evil may learn to do good." Sin is like the Negro's colour; it is not an accidental property ; he is born with it, the water of the broad sea cannot wash it away, the art of man cannot remove it, in change of climate he remains unchanged; you may carry him to shiver amid the snows of Greenland, he may exchange the shadow of his palm trees for a hut of snow, the burning sands for the frozen sea — he is as dark as ever; nothing but a miracle of nature can change the Negro's colour, and nothing but a miracle of grace can change the sinner's heart; "though you wash you with nitre, and take thee much soap, yet thine iniquity is marked before me, saith the Lord." — IttiV. Tlioiiias Gatlirie. SATURDAY. "Follow on to knov/ the Lord." — Hos. vi. 3. Drawn by thy uniting grace. After thee we swiftly run ; Hand in hand we seek thy face. And the tempter's wiles would shun. Each true Christian is a right traveller; his life his walk — Christ his way — heaven his home. His walk painful — his way perfect — his home pleasing. I will not loiter, lest I come short of home ; I will not wander, lest I come wide of home ; but he content to travel hard, and be sure I walk right ; so shall my safe w;iy find its end at home, and my painful walk make my home welcome. — Wariclck. SABBATH. " The Lord is my shepherd." — Ps. xxiii. \. My Shepherd will supply my need, Jehovah is his name ; In pastures fresh he makes me feed, Beside the living stream. " No, soul, it is impossible for thee to want ; all things are thine own. God is thine, and all God hatli is thine. While others seek to quench their thirst at the broken, Ictiky cistern, thou maycst lay thyself at the fountain and spring-head of living waters, and there find complete satisfaction. Certainly, imless all-sufficiency may fail, unless God's attributes moul- der and drop away from him and leave him a destitute and indigent God, thou canst never be impoverished and without supply." God's wisdom is full of counsel, his power is full of protection, his mercy is full of pardon, his truth and faithfulness is full of security; and those, certainly, must needs be ravenous and in- satiable desires, which such an all-suihcient God as our God is, cannot fill and satisfy. — Ilo^ikins. MONDAY. " Give diligence to make your calling and election sure." — 2 Pet. i. 10. Give me to bear thy easy yoke, ■ And every moment watch and pray ; And still to things eternal look. And hasten to thy glorious day For thee delightfully employ Whate'er thy bounteous grace hath given ; And run my course with even joy. And clostly walk with thee to heiven. Never is the soul more at rest than when it is most at work. I dare appeal to the experience of the people of God in this case. Do not your most solemn feasts come in by your obedience? Doth ever conscience k'olc so friendly and pleasantly upon you, as when it finds you active in the ivays of God ? It then wears not a wrinkle nor frown upon its face; as sin ruffles it, so duty smooths it out again; and this causeth such peace and quietness in the inward man, as yields more satisfaction than all the noise, and ruffling gallaiilry, and jollity of the world. — Ibid. TUESDAY. " Let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord "— 1 CiiuuN. xvi. 10. How happy is the man whose heart is set free ! The people that can be joyful in thee ! 'J'heir joy is to walk in the lii;lu of thy face ; And stiil they are talking of Jesus' grace. Many believe, or pretend to believe, that religion is a joyless thing ! The heart has very little, if any, share in other enjoyments. These delights only gra- tify the appetites, and strike the senses, and charm the imagination. But where is the heart I-' Even in laughter, the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness. In religion, the heart finds re- lief, repose, satisfaction, joy. — Jay. WEDNESDAY. " How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord ? f.>r ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me ? " — Ps. xiii. 1. Absent from thee, my exiled soul Deep in a tiushly dungeon groans; Around me clouds of darkness roll. And labouring silence speaks my moans; Come quickly, Lord ! thy face display, And look my darkness into day. As the time wherein the moon hides her head to the traveller by night seems long, in comparison of the time of her shining bright; so the time of Christ's withdrawing and Iiiding his face from a gracious soul is weary time — a kmd of little eternity. — Boston. THURSDAY. " Love not the world." — 1 John ii. 15. Poor blinded mortals fondly scheme For happiness below ; Till Death disturbs the pleasing dream. And they awake to v.'ue. Ah I who can speak the vast dismay That fills the sinnei's mind. When, torn by Death's strorg hand away, He leaves his all behind? There is nothing to be gotten by the world's love, nothing to be lost (but its love) by its hate. Why then should I seek that love that cannot profit me, or fear that malice tliat cannot hurt me ? If I should love it for loving me, God would hate me for lo\'ing it. If I loathe it i'or hating me, it cannot hurt me for loathing it. Let it then hate me, and I will forgive it; but if it love me, I will never requite it. For since its love is liurtful, and its hate harmless, I will contemn its hate, and hate its love. — Wavivick. *** A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is also published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh : Printed by John .Johnstone, residin,g at 2, Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: K. Guoomrbidge Sc Sons. Glasgow: J. R. M'Nair iSr Co.; and to be had of any Bookseller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURE. 15 ON THE lillNUTE CARE OF DIVINE TROVIDENCE. BY THE REV. JOHN ROXBURGH, DUNDEE. " There is no more Liiulable check (says an- otlior) upon tlio moral errors and deviations of our nature, than the persuasion that what wo perpetrate of liase, sinister, and disgraceful, wo shall not he allowed to conceal. Jloralists have reeoniniended to us, thtCt in cases of trial and temptation wo should imagine some awful and | iij)riglit judge of virtue the witness of our actions, and that we should not dare to do what he would disapprove. Devout men have pressed the continued recollection of the omnipresence of an all-perfect Ijcing." Now, this is the recollection or consideration wliich I wish to illustrate and apply, namely, that the omniscience of God extends to all his creatures, and his power and providence to all events. Without thi.s conviction deeply settled iu the mind, the mere belief of his existence must fail to afford £upj)ort in affliction, andean exei'cise no salutary influence on our thoughts, affections, and actions. What does it matter to us that (lod is, if, like the Epicureans of old, we su{)pose him to reside in some remote region of perfect tranquillity and happiness, altogether retired within himself, apart from this scene of trouble and turmoil, encumbering himself not with its management, and main- taining no intercourse with its inhabitants. The God in whom we believe must be regarded in a very diffei-ent light, if we would indeed feel our obligation to live to his glory. We must believe that as ho created, so he con- tinues to uphold, all things, by the word of his power — giving to all life and breath, and all things. We must believe that he is the uni- ^^■|■sal proprietcn-, and that we enjoy all that we ]iiissess as tenants iit his will, and responsible 1 1 1 him for our use of it. We must believe that h • is everywhere present, inspecting every secret, ordering every event, and designing and directing it for the accomplishment of his most ^\ i>e and holy purposes. To extinguish or cast ell' this belief, is to sever at once the tic that connects lieaven and cartli. It is to obliterate all sense of connnunion between the visible and invisible worlds, and to throw u;; indejiendent fif Ciod; and, as already intimated, a God on ^^hom we arc not continually dependent for our being and supjjlies, cannot be a suitable object of fear or trust — of service or adoration. He is notliing to us, and we nothing to him. It is as the governor of the world that our hope and depmulence rest upon him. It is to liisinter])osing providv'uce we look for succour in distress, for a refuge in danger, and for a Messing on our endeavoin-s. Now, nothing can bo more reasonable, as No. 14. well as scriptural, tlian this belief, on which our religious character so intimately depends. All things proceed in a continued series from the operations of the great First Cause. He, as an intelligent and all-wise Being, cannot have produced the world at a venture, without choice and without direction. lie must have had ends in view suitable to his nature and the glory of his perfections. He must have known, also, from the beginning, the motions he im- pressed on matter, the stations as'>igned to the beings whom lie created, and all the changes that would arise, in the progress of time, from their mutual action one upon another. Having thus framed his design, and adjusted his plan, so as to work out the destined effects, we can- not doubt that, as a wise master-builder, he will take care to correct all irregularities — to see that the materials are disposed in their proper places, and that none of his subordinate agents defeat his purposes. The elements will so dis- tribute themselves at his command, as to bring about his determinations, and to prodr.co plenty or famine — the impetuous lun-ricane, or the wasting pestilence. Instruments with peculiar talents will be raised up, fitted for the fulfil- ment of his intentions in the rise or fall of kingdoms ; and all events and changes, all dis- pensations of good and evil, will bo rendered subservient to the execution of that scheme which embraces every place and all time. Hence we conclude, that the providence of God is over all his works — that there is nothing too minute for his inspection, and nothing too great for the grasj) of his wisdom and power. " His kingdom rnleth over all.'' This conclusion is arrived at by another pro- cess of reasoning. The nature of God cannot be circumscribed by space or time; he must, therefore, be always and everywhere present. Notliing tliat he has made can fall from the observation of his all-seeing eye, nor can exert an influence beyond his control. Now, it is inconceivable that he should be thus vitally present in his own world without exercising his active pov.-er, cherishing and governing his work, and changing or renewing it at his jilea- sure. It is inconceivable that ids wisdom, and justice, and goodness, should remain idle; and that he should be indifferent to the events that arise un;ler his immediate view, and in his own creation, like some indolent and luxurious monarch, regai-dlcss of his inf(;riors, and en- grossed with the i)leasnres and occuiiations of his palace. This would be to suppose inlinite jiower doing nothing — infinite wisdom contriv- ing nothing — infinite goodness effecting no good. Mai/ 30, 1845. 158 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. It would be to suppose God to have delegated the government of the universe to inferior causes, and capriciously to have abandoned the creatures of his own hand. It would bs to ex- clude himself from acting in the world, and to bereave all things of their dependence on the support of their original Parent, who cannot desert his own offspring, nor fail to protect and superintend their interests. Without this con- stant support and protection, we know that there are elements in nature which might involve the whole of this stupendous frame in anarchy and ruin. What, for example, is it that maintains the sun and earth at such a convenient dis- tance from each other, but the controlling power of Him who first assigned them their place ? Who keeps the sea from passing its bounds, and laying the world under a second inunda- tion ? Who preserves the air from becoming universally corrupted, or from acquiring such a temperature as must render it unfit for the pur- poses of life ? Who restrains the beasts of the forest from invading tlie peaceful habitations of men, and converting the earth into a wide desolate wilderness ! Who makes such certain provision for the support of every living thing; teaches unthinking creatures to build their dwellings, and to lay up their stores against the long night of winter; and so subjects all nature to his beneficent dominion, that even its wildest convulsions become comparatively harmless ? It is manifest, that unless the innumerable blind and i\nreilecting causes amid which we are placed — which can feel no kindly interest in onr Avelfare, and are alike indifferent whether they be productive of dearth or fertility, of health or of sickness — it is manifest that unless they had their commission from a directing wisdom, ruin and wretchedness might over- spread the earth, in place of the order, and the plenty, and the happiness, which now awaken our strains of grateful adoration. These have been the sentiments of the best and v/isest of mankind. " It was fit," says Mac- laurin, in his account of Newton's discoveries, " that there should be, in general, a regularity and constancy in the course of nature, not only for the sake of its greater beauty, but also for the sake of intelligQiit agents, who, without this, could have ha.d no foresight, or occasion for choice and wisdom in judging of things by their consequences, and no proper exercise for their other faculties. Eut though the course of nature v/as to be regular, it \<'as not necessary that it should be governed by those principles only Avhich arise from the various motions and modifications of inactive matter by mechanical laws; and it had been incomparably inferior to what it is, in beauty and perfection, if it had been left to them only. Sir Isaac Newton thought it altog(>thor consistent with the notion of a most perfect Being, and even more agree- able to it, to suppose that he should form his work dependent n}>on himself. To exclude the Deity from acting in the universe, and govern- ing it, is to exclude from it what is most per- fect and best, the absence of which no mecha- nism can supply." It is no objection to this consolatory view of a watchful and miiversal I'rovidence, that some things appear to us too trivial to engage the attention of the divine mind. This, it is to be suspected, is a not unfrequent objection, and may have been felt in quarters where it has never been acknowledged. The notions we form of the Divine Majesty are framed so much after the pattern of human greatness, that what we deem unworthy the thoughts of a i)rince, we consider unworthy the regard of God; and hence, while it is readily conceded, on the one hand, that his providential care reaches to great events, it is as readily concluded, on the other, that the little affairs of this world are far too trifling to attract his observation. The revolu- tions of kingdoms and empires may be under his direction; but individual intei'ests are be- low his notice. Were this admitted, it would destroy the doctrine of providence, in so far as its practical influence is concerned. It is the natural effect of a doubtful and despairing spirit, to conceive of itself and its sorrows as beneath the regard or the compassion of the Supreme Being; and this view of providence would minister nourishment to its distrust. It would allow the wicked, also, the hope of escaping detection, as if their sins were too unimportant to withdraw the eye of the Omniscient from the weightier matters of his government. It is thus necessary, at once for our comfort and our virtue, that we should believe the providence of God to extend to the minutest events — to every thought of the heart, and to every idle word. And this, as it is a scriptural, so is it a most reasonable belief. Dishonour is done to the Divine Majesty, not by supposing his power to be exercised in providing for and superintepding all that he has created, but in supposing that he could create anything unworthy of his after consideration. This is to make God such an one as ourselves — to conceive of his thoughts as our thoughts, and his ways as our ways. It is to conceive of him as if the multiplicity of objects, and interests, and pursuits, could distract his attention and disturb his tranrjuillity. Now this is doubtless the effect on our own minds when we are engrossed by a variety of engagements — more especially if these relate to matters re- quiring nice discrimination and minute inspec- tion. Man is a local being; he occupies but a point in space, and his observation is confined within a narrow compass. His ideas and sen- sations are derived through the medium of the senses, and can be entertained and considered only in succession. He cannot reflect on more than one subject at one and the same time ; nor can he fix his eye steadily on one object with- out overlooking others. And thus, if he attempt to superintend a variety of interests at the same moment, to enqiloy his jDowers at once on things great and small, or to occujjy his mind with a A NOBLE ARMY OF MARTYRS. 159 diversity of thoughts, he feels all his eiidea- vours to he ineffectual, and involves himself immediately in confusion and perplexity. But there is no such reason for limiting the provi- dence of God. His mind is present at the same instant throughout all immensity — everywhere percipient, and everywhere intcUigont. All things are open and manifest to him ; not dis- cerned, as in our case, through Heshly oi'gans, but by sini])Ie intuition; so that nothing can elude his all-seeing eye. If we asccMid into heaven, lie is there; if we make our lied in hell, he is there. To him the darkness is as light; nor can the uttermost depths of the sea furnish a covering to liide us from his view; for in him we live, and move, and have our being. And, as tlie knowledge of God is thus unlimited as his essence, so is his will irresistible and his power infinite. No painful exin-tion is neces- sary on his i^art, as on ours, in surmounting difficulties, and governing the affairs of his boundless empire. On the contrary, in the active exercise of his perfections does the glory and blessedness of his nature consist — steering the motions of this mighty universe, and dis- tributing the j)enalties of his broken law and the treasures of his abounding grace. This is, indeed, a contemplation far suri)assing the grasp of our finite understandings; but so is every thing incomprehensible that relates to the be- ing and attributes of God. He dwells in glo- rious light, but it is a light inaccessible — so bright and overpowering as to blind our feeble vision. We can perceive the truth and reason- ableness of many of the doctrines that refer to him, though to comprehend them in all their extent is beyond our reach. And thus the con- clusion to bo drawn from these doctrines is, not that tliey are iintnie, because they are mys- terious; but rather that, with the deepest humi- lity, we should prostrate ourselves in adoration of that infinitely wise and good Providence, whose designs and methods are unsearchable, even to angelic intelligences, and should join in their celestial song : " Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints. Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name ?" To he conliauMl. A NOBLE ARMY OF MARTYRS. In Gillies^ Historical Collections, we find a striking account of the martyrdom of certain of the followers of John Huss, wlio, like him, jirotestcd against Popish error, and gave up their lives for the truth. The first was the Lord Schlik, a man of admirahle parts, about fil^y years old. When he was coiulennied to he quartered, and liis members to be scattered here and there, he said : " The loss of a sepulchre is easy." Being exliorted by a minister to courage, lie said : " I have God's favour so, that no fear of death doth trouble me. I have f( r)ncrly dared to oppose Antichrist; and I dare now die for Christ." The .Icsuits tronbhng him v,hen he came to the scaffold, he shook them off; and seeing the sun shining bright, he said : " Christ, th.ou Sun of Righ- teousness, grant, that through tlie darkness of death I may pass into eternal light; " and so, having ended his jtrayers, he calmly received the stroke. Tlie Lord Wenceslaus was next — about seventy years old — famous for learning, religion, and his travels through divers countries; his house was formerly jilundered, even to his ivearing apparel, he only say- ing : " The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away." Holding forth his Bible, he said : " Behold my paradise I it never yielded me so much nectar and ambrosia as now." On the scaffold, stroking his long beard, he said : " My grey hair?, behold what honour remains for you, that you should be crowned with martyrdom!" And so, praying for the Church, his country, his enemies, and commending his soul to Christ, his head \vas cut otf. The next was the Lord Harant, a man that had gi'.ined mucli experience by his travels in Asia, Africa, and Euro]>e; his crime was, that he had taken an oatli to be true to Frederick, and durst not vio- late it. Being called to execution, he said : " I have escaped many perils by sea and land, and now suffer innocently m my own countr}', and by them for whose sake I and my forefathers have spent our estates and lives : Father, forgive tliem." Then he said : " In thee, O Lord, I have hoped ! let me not be confounded." On the scaffold he said : " Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my sj'yirit ! In thee, O Lord, have I trusted from my youth ! I am con- fident that I shall be accepted by that ignominious deatli of my Saviour ; " and falling upon his knees, lie said : " To thee, O Lord, I commend my spirit ! for thou, O God, just and true, hast redeemed me;" and so he received the fatal stroke with the SAvord. The next was Casper Caplitz, a knight of eighty- six years old. When the minister came to him after his condemnation, he said, among other things : " My death indeed is disgraceful in tlie eyes of men, but glorious in the sight of (iod ; for God wiU account that death precious in his sight which I suffer for his glory and truth." And v,'hen it was told hun, that he might have his life if he would ask pardon, he answered : " That he would ask pardon of Him against whom he had committed many sins all his life; but he never offended the prince; and therefore would not give occasion to suspect that he had com- mitted some crime for which he had deserved death. God foi-bid, therefore," said he, " that I should be Ee])arated from this holy company of martyrs." As he was going to the scaffold, being feeble with age, he said : '■ O my (rJod, strengthen me, lest I fall down, and become matter of scorn to the enemies." The next was Procopius Dorzeki, who, after his condemnation, said to the minister : " I have had a great contention all night with old Adam, so that it made me sweat again; but thanks be to my God, by whom my soul hath overcome all temptations;" saying further : " O Almighty God, strengthen tliy servant, that I may not be made a derision to mine enemies by any fear of death ; and as thou wast wont to encourage thy holy mart_vi"s, so I strongly believe thou wilt comfort me." When he v.-as called forth to execution, he said : " Thanks 1)0 to God, who doth now call me to himself; to him I have lived, and lor him I will die ! for my Savioiir hath therefore died and risen again, that he might be Lord both of the living and the dead. I know that my soul shall live, and my body shall be raised like to his glorious body." Another was the Lord Heiiry Otto, a man of great judgment. He having received the sentence of con- demnation, said : " Kill my body, disperse my mem- bers whither you please; jet do I believe that my Saviour will gather them together again, and clothe them Avith skin ; so that \ni\\ these eyes I shall see 160 THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. him; -with these ears I shall hear him; with this tongue 1 shall praise him, and rejoice with this heart for ever." Afterwards, \vhen the minister came to him, amongst other things, he said : " I was troubled, but now I feel a wonderful refreshing in my heart ;" adding, with his hands lifted up to heaven : " I give thee thanks, O most merciful .Saviour ! -who hast been pleased to fill me with so much comfort; O now I fear death no lomjer — 1 will die with joj ! " As he was going to the scaffold, he said to the minister : " I am sure that Christ Jesus will meet my soul with his angels, that he may bring it to an everlasting marriage, where I shall drink of a new cup — a cup of joy for ever: this death, I know, shall not scjja- rate me from him." After he had prayed silently, he said: " Into thy hands, O Lord God, I commend my spirit ! have iiity on me through Jesus Christ, and let me see thy glory;" and so he received the stroke of the sword. Another was the Lord of Rugenia, an excellent man, and full of zeal for (lod. When the sheriff came for him, h.e rejoiced, and said : " Praised be my God, that I shall now be taken out of tlie world, that I may be with Christ ; " and so he went up to meet him. On the scaffold he comforted himself with that promise: " Father, I will that where I am my ser- vant may also be, to behold that glory which thou gavest me;" " Therefore," said he, " I make haste to die, that I may be with Christ, and see his glory;" and so he sufi'ered martyrdom courageously. The next was Valentine Cookan, of about sixty years old. During his imprisonment, he was full of heavenly discourse ; and, at tlie scaffold, he said : " Grant m.e, O God I to pass through this valley of death, that I may presently see thee; for thou Icnow- est, my God, that I have loved thy Word; bring me, 0 God ! through the paths of life, that I may see fulness of joy ia thy presence;" and, kneeling down, he said : " Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit !" and so holily ended his life. The next was Toby Steffick, a man of composed temper; he spent the most of the tim.e of his impri- sonment in silent sighs and tears ! Before liis execu- tion, he said : " I have received many good things of the Lord all my life long ; shall I not therefore re- ceive this cup of atHiction ? I embrace tlie will of God, who, by his ignominious death, makes me con- formable to his Son, and by