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ie/v//#i 


1^ 


ibtatj^-  5c|olat's  ftessurg 


mVENILE  MISSIOSAEY  llECOED 


a;je  fflfturrjr  of  SiotUni. 


EDINBURGH: 
PATOJf  AND  BITCHIR,  81  PRINCEa  STKEET.        \ 


fe/./ji^iq    t.  |H7 


1 


I 


> 


i 


,SafrIt»t|  St|<»l»r's  Crasntg 


JUVBSIIE  MISSIONAEV  RECORD 


6i  €^"'6  »(  SicetUvi. 


f^,  x^ 


EDINBURGH:  \ 

FATOW  AND  BITCHIE,  81  PRINCES  SIB.'EO.       \ 

MDCCCLX. 


INDEX. 


PAOS 

Auf OBT  Saved !       .  .  77 

America,  and  a  Better  Country    17 
Atoms  ...  63 

Beantifal  (The)  but  Deadly  Tree  56 
Beaatifnl,    How    to    be:     a 

Secret       .  .  6,20,27 

Beloved  Friend,  The         .  92 

Bible  (The)  a  Lamp  .  4 

Bombay,  Labours  in  .  124 

Butterfly  (The)  and  its  Lessons  61 


Coming  to  Jesns    . 
Coral  Beefs 
Cross,  Soldiers  of  the 
Cromb  of  Comfort  for 
Boys,  A   . 


Doll 


82 

18 

128 

182 


Death  in  a  Lighthouse      .  89 

Deadly  Tree,  The  Beautiful  but  56 
Dull     Boys,    A    Crumb     of 
Comfort  for        .  .  182 


Samest  Zaccheus 
Eye  of  God,  The 


52 
100 


Palling  Bain,  The  .  .  60 

Flowers  (The)  of  the  Garden  78, 92 
"  Fox,"  The  Voyage  of  the  18, 80, 41 

Garden,  The  Flowers  of  the  78,  92 
Glimpses  of  India  .     84,  46 

Good  Answer,  A     .  ,  108 

Good  Bishop  Wilson,  Words 

from  the  Life  of  .  87 

Good  Deed,  A  Little  GirVs         188 
Gold  Pieces,  The  Two  Pots  of       1 

Happy  Mary  .  .  108 

Honest  Ragged  Lad,  The  .  119 

How  to  be  Beautiful :  a  Secret 

5,20,27 
How  to  be  Loved  .  .  66 


lu^vsTSATioyg  : — 
A  Lime  Girrs  Good  Deed 
Almost  Bared     . 


188 

77 


An  Orphan's  Faith 
An  Unwelcome  GueSt    . 
Beloved  Friend,  The      . 
Butterfly  and  its  Lessons,  The 
Captive  Ship,  The 
Coral  Reefs         *  » 

Earnest  ZaCcheus  « 

First  Fruits  of  Victory  . 
Flowers  of  the  Garden,  The 
Happy  Mary       . 
How  to  be  Beautiful 
Kayak,  The 

Lambs  in  His  Arms,  The 
Leprosy  of  Sin    ;  • 

"Mother,  What  is  Death?" 
"  My  Jew«l8  " 
"My  Mother"    . 
PaiQine  Fatme    . 
Shipwreck,  The  .  . 

Taking  Possession 
Twin  Children,  The 
Two  Foundations.  The  . 
Voice  of  One  Crying  in  the 
Wilderness,  The 


Paqe 
114 
81 


India,  Glimpses  of 


92 
61 
66 
19 
62 

121 
78 

106 

6,21,27 

16 

66 

9S 

102 
97 
46 
86 
10 
87 

126 

109 

187 
84,46 


Labours  in  Bombay,         .  134 

"  Lambs  (The)  in  his  Anns  "       56 
Lame  Cobbler,  The  .  40 

Lamp,  The  Bible  a  .  4 

Leprosy  (The)  of  Sin        .  26 

Lessons,  The  Butterfly  and  its    61 
Lighting  a  Lamp   .  .  186 

Locomotive,  The  Sunday  School  68 
"Lord's   (The)    Song    in    a 
Strange  Land"  .  .  88 

Man   (The)   that   killed   his 

Neighbours  .  .  67 

"My  Mother"        .  .  46 

"My  Jewels"         .  .  97 

"  My  Son,  give  me  thine  Heaacl"  \«\. 

If  eta  Home 

Neighbours,   The  "M-aa  laa&X 

HUed  his 
Nothing  Finiahed, 


IV 


INDBX. 


PAGE 

Only  People  in  the  World,  The  33 
Only  Three  Things  Wanted  114 
Orphan's  Faith,  An  .  114 

Pauline  Fatme,  The  Story  of 

68,  78,  86, 103, 115 

POETBT — 

An  Apostle's  Hymn        .  48 
Hymns     .            .      120,132,140 

"  Is  it  WeU  with  the  Child  »  12 

"  Mother,  What  is  Death  ?  "  102 

The  Alpine  Cross           .  96 

The  Coral  Polype           .  24 

The  Little  Pilgrim         .  78 
The  Sinner  Pleading  with 

Christ  ...  60 

Time        ...  86 

Sweet  Sights  and  Sonnds  72 

What  a  Penny  may  do  .  64 

Question  and  Answer,  A  .  01 

"Right  from  Heaven"      .  99 

Bight  Way  (The)  to  Begin         139 

Sacred  Gate,  The  .  .  87 


PAGE 

Sin,  The  Leprosy  of  .  25 

Soldiers  of  llie  Cross         .  123 

South  Sea  Islands,  Tales  of 

the  .  .    49,65,89,121 

Strange    Land,    The    Lord's 

Song  in  a  .  .  83 

Sunday  School   Locomotive, 

The  ...  63 

Tales  of  the  South  Sea  Islands 

49,  65,  89, 121 
Three  Hard  Words  .         130 

Twin  Children,  The  .  126 

Two  Foundations,  The     .         109 
Two  Pots  of  Gold  Pieces,  The        1 

Very  Good,  and  Very  Bich  20 

Voyage  (The)  of  the  "Fox" 

18,30,41 
Voice  (The)  of  One  Crying  in 
theWiLdemess   .  .  137 

Winding  the  Skein  .  88 

Words  from  the  Life  of  Good 

Bishop  Wilson    .  .  37 

World,  The  only  People  in  33 


THE 


SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TEEASURY. 


t  %iss  iirts  ijf  §al)i  iieas. 


iN  a  large  and  lovely 
garden  there  were 
two  children  dwell* 
ing.  They  were  permitted 
to  roam  over  it  as  they 
pleased  ;  to  eat  its  fruit ;  to 
sport  under  the  shadows  of 
its  trees ;  to  trim  its  flower- 
plots  ;  and  to  keep  its  long 
gravel  walks  free  of  weeds. 

One  day  I  beheld  a  fairy 
figure  gliding  towards  these 
children  where  they  sat,  on 
a  bench  tired  with  play. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  robe 
of  gossamer;  and,  as  her 
feet  twinkled  over  the  dewy 
grass,  they  were  sheen  as 
silver.  She  carried  in  each 
hand  a  pot  of  gold  pieces ; 
and  when  she  drew  near, 
she  laid  them  down  at  the 
chUdren's  feet,  Baying,  in  a 
street  voice,  and  with  a  smile 


like  a  flash  of  sunlight,  "  In 
each  pot,  my  children,  yon 
will  flnd  three  hundred  and 
sixty- flve  pure  gold  coins.  I 
give  them  to  you  to  spend  as 
you  like  best.    Farewell !  " 

With  that,  when  I  looked, 
she  was  gone.  The  children 
were  delighted,  I  need  not 
say.  One  was  dark,  but 
comely  too.  The  other  was 
fair,  and  gentle,  and  dovelike 
in  his  beauty.  They  kissed 
hands  over  their  gifts,  and 
then  each  ran  to  hide  his 
pot  in  his  own  favourite  nook. 

After  that,  I  saw  that  they 
agreed  to  spend  one  golden 
coin  each  day.  On  the  first 
day,  the  dark-faced  child 
romped  about  so  recklessly 
that  he  lost  his  pvece  ^ety 
early — ^almost  ere  lYie  %wTi 
was  risen.    The  otYieT  Oo^^ 


Vol.  Z— JVo.  /. 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB'b  TBEASCBT. 


I   traced   curiously  into   a 

little  summer  bower  he  had 

made  himself;  and  there  I 

heard  such  a  soft  murmur 

of  voices,  that  at  a  creyice 

in  the  wall  I  looked  in,  and 

beheld  him  kneel  down,  and, 

with  a  great    awe,    but    a 

beauteous  smile  on  his  brow 

at  the  same  time,  drop  his 

coin  into  the  hand  of  One 

who  was  there  with    him^ 

but  whose  face  I  could  not 

see,  becaitse  it  was  behind  a 

veil.     He  took  the  coin  very 

tenderly,  laid  it  in  a  great 

chest  of  treasure  of  which  I 

caught   a    glimpse    behind 

Him;    and   then,  stooping, 

breathed  a  kiss  on  the  child's 

lips.    When  he  came  forth 

to  his  work  and  play,  the 

sun  was  up,  but  it  was  not 

so  fair  as  the  sun  playing  in 

his  eyes. 

Day  after  day  I  stole  into 

the  garden  to  mark  these 

playmates   how    they  used 

their  gold ;  and  always  the 

first  thing  in  the  morning, 

he  with  the  fair  locks  was 

seen  gliding  to  his  bower, 

and  from  his  bower  appearing 

again  happy  as  a  lark.    The 

other  by  degrees  grew  very 

sullen.     He  had  somehow, 

spite  of  all  his  companion 

could  say  to  him  (for  he 

spoke  to  him  with  a  very 
if  "^ 


winning  sorrow  often),  lost 
every  coin  as  he  took  it  from 
his  pot ;  and  so  bad  grew  his 
temper  over  his  own  folly, 
and  so  angry  did  he  become 
with  the  gentle  boy  pleading 
at  his  side,  that  at  last  he 
went  away  among  the  shrubs 
by  himself,  played  alone  in 
the  dark  parts  of  the  garden, 
and  left  all  his  portion  of  the 
walks  and  flower-beds  to  be 
overrun  with  weeds.    I  saw 
that,  because  of  this,  the  fair- 
haired  child,  as  he  stooped  to 
his  day's  work,  or  ran  about 
beneath  the  trees,  often  came 
to  a  halt,  and  wept  sadly. 
Yet  in  such  moments  he  used 
to  fiy  for  a  minute  again  into 
his   bower;    and,  after  the 
murmuring  of  the  voices  I 
had  heard  before,  he  issued 
out  with  his  aery  step  and 
his  wondrous  smile. 

Very  soon  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  days  came  and 
went.  The  pots  of  gold 
pieces  were  now  emp^y,  and 
there  they  stood  on  the 
bench  where  the  fairy  first 
had  placed  them.  The  two 
children  stood  waiting  for 
her  coming.  And  presently, 
to  be  sure,  the  figure,  draped 
in  gossamer,  was  seen  gleam- 
ing through  the  shrubbery ; 
but  the  dark-fiiced  child,  at 
the  ftrst  g\\mi^«^  datv^^i  ^^ 


TflS  gABBATH  SCHOLAE'B  TBBABCMT. 


and  plunged  into  a  thicket 
hard  by.  The  other  laid  his 
pot  down  at  the  fairy's  silver 
feet.  "  It  is  empty,  I  see," 
said  the  mnsicid  voice; 
''  bow  hare  you  spent  the 
gold  coin  ?  " 

^Come  and  see,*'  said  the 
child,  a  little  bashfully;  and 
then,  tripping  away,  his  hand 
linked  in  her  pearl  hand,  they 
set  off  together  in  the  direc- 
tion of  his  bower.   A  low  tap 
at  the  door,  and  both  entered ; 
and,  looking  in  through  the 
chink  where  I  had  peeped 
before,  I  saw  the  child  kneel- 
ing at  the  feet  of  that  One 
whose  face  was  still  behind 
the  veil.    Pointing    to    his 
fairy  companion,  he  asked 
about  the  three  hundred  and 
sixty-flve  gold  pieces.    And 
straightway  that  One  reached 
back  into  His  chest  of  trea- 
sure, and  brought  a  crown 
of  gold,  which  He  set  on  the 
child's  brow,  and  a  garment 
sewn  with  gold  tissue,  with 
which  He  dad  the  child's 
figure.    And    the  child    in 
amazement  looked  up  into 
the    fairy's   face,   for   that 
Inrisible  One  had  vanished 
away! 

**  I  see  how  it  it,"  said  she, 
softly  embracing  the  little 
kii7^/  for  no  less  than  a  king 
he   looked.      **  Your    gold 


pieces  have  all  been  beaten 
out  and  wrought  into  this 
crown  and  dress;  and  the 
Hand  into  which  you  gave 
them  each  day  has  restored 
them  an  hundred-fold.  Hap« 
py  child !  Did  you  see  that 
the  Hand  was  as  if  it  had 
been  pierced  through  with  a 
nail  ?  It  is  a  tender  as  well 
as  a  wonderful  Hand;  and 
here  it  has  made  you  like  an 
angel  in  heaven ! " 

So  they  came  forth  joy- 
fully together,  and  went  to 
seek  the  dark-faced  child. 
It  was  long  ere  they  found 
him,  but  at  last  they  did  so 
in  a  gloomy  spot,  where  he 
stood  with  a  frown  on  his 
brow,  and  his  figure  all  in 
misery  and  rags.     The  fairy 
carried  his  empty  pot — she 
looked  at  him  and  looked  at 
it— and  there  was  no  need 
for  words— all  his  pieces  had 
been  flung  away  and  lost! 
Then  the  fairy  put  a  medal- 
lion of  purest  gold  round  the 
fair  child,  and,  as  it  fell  upon 
his  heart,  both  children  saw 
that  it  was  stamped  with  a 
cross,  and  round    it   these 
words  shining  in  1  *tters  of 
starry  light — 


t( 


Jesni,  Thy  blood  «n^  T\%)a\*o>J%- 

nesB 
My   beauty   ate,  my    |&\ot\oT» 

dress!" 


THB  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*S  TBEASUBT. 


When  I  looked  she  was 
gone,  and  the  dark  child  was 
sitting  on  the  ground  weep- 
ing bitterly,  while  the  gold- 
crowned  child  was  on  his 
knees  beside  him,  putting  an 
arm  round  him,  and  telling 
him  the  bower  was  there  yet. 


and  that  One  in  it,  and  both 
might  go  to  His  very  feet 

Some  of  my  readers  will 
perhaps  read  this  little  tale 
on  New  Year's  day  I860, 
and  I  leave  them  to  make 
out  what  it  means. 

W.R. 


®6^  iitU  a  f  amp. 


;HILDREN  in  large 
cities  may  not  fully 
understand  what 
David  meant  when 
he  Bud,  **Thy  word  is  a  lamp 
to  my  feet,  and  a  light  to 
my  path."  When  they  read 
these  inspired  words,  they 
perhaps  think  of  a  broad 
street  lighted  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  so  that  the 
traveller  can  see  a  long  dis- 
tance before  him,  and  that 
it  was  one  of  these  lamps  to 
which  David  compared  the 
Bible.  But  David  meant 
more  than  this.  He  was 
once  a  shepherd  boy,  and, 
when  a  sheep  or  lamb  had 
strayed  from  the  fold,  had 
in  the  search  for  it  been 
belated  until  darkness  closed 
around  his  path. 

Though  homeward  bound, 
how  many  dangers  lay  be- 
fore him  ere  he  could  reach 
his  father's  house — narrow 
passes  and  slippery  places, 
where  a   false   step  would 
prove  fatal  I    Eia  path  was 
crooked   and   narrow,    and 
4 


unseen  dangers  beset  him  at 
every  step.  What  would  en- 
able him  to  avoid  all  these, 
and  keep  in  the  right  path 
until  he  reached  his  home 
in  safety  ?  The  little  Syrian 
lamp  which  he  carried  in  his 
hand, — not  much  more  than 
a  torch,  not  throwing  a 
bright  light  on  all  his  future 
course,  but  shining  around 
his  feet,  and  shewing  him 
just  where  to  take  the  next 
step.  Do  you  not  think  he 
prized  his  little  lamp  ? 
Without  it  he  would  have 
wandered  in  darkness,  or 
perished  amid  the  dangers 
of  the  way. 

So  is  the  Word  of  God, 
the  precious  Bible,  to  the 
Christian,  **a  lamp  to  his 
feet,  and  a  light  to  his  path. 
His  way  through  the  world 
is  narrow  and  dangerous. 
Often  has  he  to  say  with 
the  Psalmist,  "My  feet  had 
well-nigh  slipped."  Tempta- 
tions assail  him  on  every 
side;  \>u\.  Vie  Vv8A  his  lamp 
— ^not  Vnde^^  Xo  ^^\&\\.  u^ 


»» 


THB  SABBITH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBA8UET. 


the  whole  way,  but  shewing 
him  where  to  take  the  next 
step.  When  all  seems  dark, 
and  he  does  not  see  his  way, 
he  should  not  murmur  that 
he  cannot  penetrate  through 
the  thick  darkness,  or  des- 
pond, lest  he  should  not  be 
able  to  overcome  all  life's 
obstacles.  The  Word  of  God 
will  shew  him  present  dnty, 
and  that  is  all  he  is  called 
upon  to  perform.   That  step 


taken,  its  rays  will  enable 
him  to  adTance  yet  a  little 
further,  until  he  has  passed 
through  the  *' strait  and 
narrow  way,"  through  the 
dark  valley,"  and  entered 
into  the  golden  street  of  that 
celestial  city  where  they 
need  no  candle,  neither  light 
of  the  sun ;  "  for  the  glory 
of  God  doth  lighten  it,  and 
the  Lamb  is  the  light  there- 
of."— Recorder, 


i*to  to  k  iiatttM :  %  ^mtt 


CHAPTER    I. 


[N  a  little  hou«e  in  a 
little  country  town 
dwelt  a  girl,  per- 
haps about  ten  years  of  age, 
and  very  ill-favoured  in  her 
looks.  Naturally  her  fea- 
tures were  plain  in  the  last 
degree,  her  figure  and  her 
gait  most  unlovely ;  but  the 
marks  left  by  an  attack  of 
small-pox  had  seamed  her 
face  into  ugliness  still  worse ; 
and  the  air  of  discomfort, 
tawdriness,  and  misery  about 
her  home,  threw  over  her  a 
cloud  of  bad  temper  that 
made  everybody  shrink 
away  from  her  in  pain. 
Yet  this  girl  bore  the  very 
sweet  name  of  Bessie  Lee. 

The     great     thing     she 
wished  dajr  and  night  in  her 


heart  was,  that  she  might 
be  beautiful.  She  had  no 
hope  of  ever  really  being  so, 
though  sometimes  she  was 
vain  enough  to  deck  herself 
with  a  piece  of  gay  dress,  or 
to  wrap  up  her  long  black 
hair  in  fantastic  knots.  But 
no  sooner  did  she  look  again 
into  her  little  mirror— a 
daily  companion  of  hers, 
into  which  she  would  stand 
gazing  with  a  black  frown 
by  the  half- hour— than  she 
would  see  herself  a  fright 
again,  tear  off  her  bonnet  or 
her  dress,  stamp  them  under 
her  feet,  and  scatter  her 
locks  wildly  about  her  shoul- 
ders. Then,  as  \i  po&&%%%^^ 
by  a  dark  Bplrit,  sihe  ^woxiiV^ 
clench  her  teeth  aad  Yittudi^  \ 


Are  would  gli 
ejes ;  she  trould  hate  her- 
self, and  the  world,  and 
ererybody  in  it ;  and  cry 
out.  Why  had  God  bestowcii 
so  much  beauty  on  all  the 
objects  He  hud  made,  and 
left  ber  each  an  unsightly  . 
thing? 
One  day  she  bad  relumed 


this  bitter 
hnmour— and  uobody  cao 
tell  jou  how  reallt/  bitter  and 
tercibie  eucli  timee  wen?  to 
the  unhappy  girl— and,  hav- 
ing tossed  down  her  books, 
she  was  standing  at  the 
little  dust-covered  window, 
her  fnce  leaned  upon  her 
hands,  and  \ootmg-%\aiinvL\7 


THE  BABBATH  BOHOLAE'B  TREABUKT. 


into  the  Btreet.  OntBide  it 
was  doll  and  qniet,  and  the 
honses  crowded  doBe  in  dark 
shadow  ;  onlj  between  two 
gables  a  narrow  slit  of  sky 
opened,  and  through  that  a 
long  slanting  sunbeam  gave 
a  glimpse  of  autumn 
woods,  and  a  shining  river, 
and  blue  hills  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  then  ftll  Ml  on 
the  dim  jmne  and  Bessie^s 
scowling  fkce.  Inside  the 
room  it  was  so  dismal  you 
could  hardly  see.  The  air 
was  stifling;  the  floor  and 
shelyes  littered  with  dis- 
order; the  little  tent-bed 
unmade;  the  ashes  on  the 
hearth  unswept;  and  not  a 
chair  where  any  one  could 
TCTture  to  sit  down.  For  a 
good  while  there  was  dead 
silence. 

'*  Bessie,"  at  last  said  a 
feeble  voice  from  a  comer  of 
the  room.  It  was  like  a 
voice  out  of  the  grave ;  and 
not  till  you  went  near  to  a 
high-backed  chair  beside  the 
fire,  could  you  see  a  poor, 
wasted  figure,  the  face  half 
hid,  the  hands  cold  and  help- 
less, and  all  clad  round  with 
wretchedness  and  dirt.  This 
was  Bessie  Lee's  paralysed 
mother  I 

^^Beale,"  said  the   thin 
roice  ngnin,  for  BesBle  had 


given  no  heed,  but  instead 
had  fallen  to  making  scores 
with  her  finger  on  the  win* 
dow-pane.  At  last,  turning 
gruffly  round,  she  replied, 
•♦  What  is  it  you  want  ?  * 

"Water,"  said  the  thin 
cracked  lips,  very  plaintive- 
ly.  Bessie's  heart  was  not 
softened.  She  went  with  a 
mug  to  the  water-pail,  and 
having,  without  any  gentle- 
ness, given  her  mother  to 
drink,  she  stood  sulkily  be- 
fore her,  and,  with  her  coal- 
black  glare,  met  the  faded 
blue  eyes  turned  up  so  sad. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  al- 
most fiercely,  "I  wish  you 
and  I  were  dead  I  " 

The  poor  woman  was  per- 
haps longpast  being  shocked, 
for  these  outbreaks  were 
often  occurring  now,  as 
Bessie  grew  older,  and  her 
heart  stronger  in  its  bad 
passions.  The  faded  eyes 
still  gazed,  and  the  thin  lips 
had  no  answer. 

"  Why  are  we  so  poor  ?  •* 
went  on  the  wrathful  girl. 
"  Why  am  I  left  alone  with 
you  ? — why  is  there  no  one 
to  help  me  in  taking  care  of 
you  ? — why  do  we  live  in  so 
miserable  a  house? — why  is 
eyery  one  I  know  at  %eVvoo\ 
better  off,  and  better  dtew^, 
and  richer,  and  happiex  iVvax 

7 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'B  TBEABUBT. 


we  are  ?— and  why,**  for  this 
was  the  real  secret,  "while 
everybody  is  good-looking 
and  well  liked — why  am  I 
so  ugly  that  I  am  hated  and 
avoided  by  all  who  come 
near  me,  as  if  I  had  the 
plague  ?  ** 

You  see  Bessie's  brooding 
over  the  canker  of  her  life 
had  taught  her  bitter  lan- 
guage, and  language  even 
beyond  her  years. 

"  My  Bible  !  **  murmured 
her  mother,  for  the  poor 
mind  wandered ;  and  though 
the  head  had  been  shaken 
piteously  at  Bessie's  words, 
it  could  not  retain  them  for 
more  than  just  a  minute. 
"  You  have  not  read  to  me, 
Bessie,  for  many  days.*' 
This  was  slowly  and  very 
touchingly  said. 

"  I  don't  care,'*  replied  the 
girl.  **  Reading  books  does 
me  no  good.  Am  I  to  grow 
up  into  a  woman,  ugly  as  I 
am  at  this  moment?— ^a^  is 
what  I  want  to  know  I  *' 

*'  My  Bible !  **  repeated 
the  voice  once  more.  "  You 
have  not  read  to  me  for 
many  days." 

"I  know  that,**  was  the 

wild  answer,  **and  what  is 

more,  I  won*t  do  it  again. 

There    is    no    use    in    it. 

Heading  it  may  make  those 
S 


who  are  better  off  than  we 
are  happy,  but  it  never 
makes  me.  Will  it  change 
my  looks,  or  will  it  tell  me 
how  I  can  get  beauty  into 
my  ugly  face  ?  ** 

«  My  Bible  I  '*  still  mur- 
mured the  voice.  "  And 
prayer,  Bessie — you  have 
not  prayed  with  me  for 
many  days.** 

"Nor  will  I  do  it  now,*' 
recklessly  said  the  girl.  "  I 
am  tired  of  everything.  I 
laughed  in  my  heart  last 
Sunday  evening,  when  my 
teacher  told  us  how,  if  we 
loved  Christ,  and  prayed, 
and  read  the  Bible,  we  would 
become  beautiful  like  the 
angels  in  heaven.  And  then 
I  am  sure  I  saw  her  and  all 
the  girls  look  round  at  me 
in  pity,  as  if  /  could  never 
be  that.  So  there  is  no  use 
in  my  trying  to  pray  and 
read  the  Bible  any  more. 
There,  you  may  read  for 
yourself  if  you  like,  mo- 
ther!" And  with  that 
she  flung  the  Bible  roughly 
on  her  mother's  knees,  and, 
turning  her  back,  went  again 
to  lean  at  the  dim  window. 
She  did  not  think  how  the 
faded  eyes  closed  in  blinding 
tears — how  the  weak  hands 
never  stirred  the  Bible  where 
it  lay — andViONT  xV^\i^«ii\i  ^^ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUBT. 


the  poor  mother  was  paiDed 
nigh  to  breaking.  She  could 
only  think  of  that  one  thing 
—Was  there  anything  in  the 
world  could  give  her  beauty 
for  her  ugliness — anything 
in  the  world  that  could  tell 
her  the  secret  of  a  new  face  ? 
At  that  moment,  as  she 
looked  out,  the  red  sunset 
glinted  suddenly  on  the  face 
of  a  young  girl — young  as 
herself— who,  riding  on  a 
shaggy  pony  along  the  nar- 


row path  between  the  two 
gable  ends,  chanced  to  turn 
a  very  bright  look  up ;  the 
eyes  of  the  two  girls  met; 
and  in  that  instant  Bessie 
Lee  got  a  glimpse  of  the 
great  secret  she  so  much 
wanted  to  know.  It,  as  it 
were,  gleamed  upon  her  and 
was  gone ;  but  not  ere  her 
heart  had  leaped  up,  and 
she  gave  an  eager  breath. 
But  I  must  keep  the  secret 
for  another  chapter. 


ii^ar  3ovitt 


)BOUT  five  months 
ago,  a  noble  ship, 
called  the  "Royal 
Charter,"  laden  with  pas- 
sengers, many  of  them  com- 
ing home  after  years  of  ab- 
sence, money-making,  and 
hard  work,  left  Melbourne 
in  Australia  and  sailed  for 
England.  It  had  a  happy 
voyage  till  just  at  the  very 
last.  It  had  even  touched 
at  a  home  port  in  Ireland 
and  landed  some  of  its  pas- 
sengers, and  spread  the  news 
by  telegraph  and  letter 
through  the  whole  land  that 
the  rest  were  coming.  The 
cry  of  home  was  on  every  lip 
on  hoard,  as  you  way  well 
gueaa,  andtbeaweet  though  U 


of  home  in  every  heart.  Well, 
as  the  ship  was  making  way 
up  the  channel,  and  was  just 
a  few  miles  from  Liverpool — 
as  one  would  say,  at  the  very 
threshold  of  home — the  dark 
arms  of  the  night  and  the 
storm  swept  between.  Lights 
were  burned  for  a  pilot  off  a 
place  called  Port  Lynas,  but 
no  boat  could  live  in  the  sea 
now  raging;  and  as  mid- 
night drew  on  and  grew 
black  as  pitch,  and  the  wind 
rose  to  a  hurricane,  such  that 
the  oldest  sailor  living  on 
that  wild  coast  did  not  re- 
collect its  like,  it  became 
plain  to  all  that  the  \e&%^\ 
was  fast  being  svrept  a&Yvox^. 
Anchor  after  anchor  visa  \«\i 


go  J  bnt  one  by  one  they 
snapped  like  threadi.  Steam 
was  kept  op  in  the  teeth  of 
the  wsvn,  bnt  the  huge 
warei  pkyed  with  the  huge 
ihip  ■■  if  it  bad  been  a  toy. 
l^en  to  lighten  her,  one 
muC  after  another  wm  hewn 
down ;  but  every  effort  wa! 
in  T^n,  and  when  three 
honra  of  such  tugging  and 
Btraining  in  the  blast  were 
r,  BWifl  Bwift  the  Teaael 


drove  to  its  doom.  It  was 
a  cmel  apectade,  so  near 
home  I  The  billows  ga- 
thered round  it  aa  it  beat 
upon  the  rocks,  like  demons 
to  the  spoil.  There  was 
a  little  while  of  hurrying 
feet  npon  the  deck,  broken 
crteg  of  hope,  mixed  with 
ciiea  of  prayer ;  then  came 
the  deep  long  ihrieking  of 
despair;  then  the  great  gulf 
yawBJag  amidships,  as, 
craibed  npon  the  rocks,  the 
10 


vessel  broke  in  twain ;  then 
the  wild  farewell  with  which 
heart  was  rent  Avm  heart, 
and  hand  from  hand,  as 
down,  hundreds,  old  and 
young,  strong  and  weak, 
were  swept  into  that  graie  ; 
and  laxt,  the  storm  roaring 
over  its  feast  in  savagR  joy, 
as  if  never  from  its  maw  it 
would  give  up  the  dead  [ 
What  an  awful  abyss  to 
open  and  swallow  men  up, 
just  at  the  door  of  their 
homes  I 

Several  most  affecting 
things  are  told.  For  ex- 
ample, it  is  said  about  the 
captain,  that  from  nine 
o'clock  he  was  never  off  the 
deck,  doing  all  man  coald 
do,  time  after  time  knocked 
down  by  wave  and  spar,  but 
buffeting  at  hie  bootless  toil 
gallantly  again.  lie  was 
latterly  seen  giving  orders 
on  deck  with  a.  spar  lashed 
to  him,  so  that,  when  swept 
away,  he  might  float.  When 
washed  into  the  sea,  he  re- 
covered himself  by  aeiiing  a 
yard-arm,  though  more  than 
once  it  was  struck  from  his 
gripe.  On  two  occasions, 
shaking  himself  free  of  the 
foam,  he  cried  nobly,"  There 
is  hope  yet ! "  Ah,  how  the 
hope  perished  I     He  and  the 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAS'S  TBBAfUET. 


were  beheld  battliog  in  the 
surf  to  leeward,  ■truggling, 
perhaps,  to  reach  the  shore, 
when  a  boat  fell  from  the 
daTits,  striking  them  both 
on  the  head,  and  they  sank 
to  rise  no  more.  One  inci- 
dent is  particularly  related  of 
the  captain,  that  when,  flung 
down,  worn  out,  on  deck, 
he  saw  a  treacherous  wave 
sweep  a  little  child  from  its 
mother's  arms,  and  dash  it 
about  in  its  cruel  sport,  he 
cried  out  to  one  of  the  offi- 
cers to  lay  hold  of  the  infant 
and  lash  a  rope  about  its  tiny 
form,  no  doubt,  at  that  time, 
expecting  the  ship  might  be 
saved.  But  it  was  not  so  to 
be.  By  seven  in  the  morning 
scarce  one  timber  but  was 
torn  from  another ;  and,  out 
of  the  hundreds  on  board, 
but  a  mere  handful  were 
cast  alive  on  shore.     Not 

.     one  female  or  one  child  was 

I     among  the  number. 

When  the  last  anchor 
parted,  and  the  ship  was 
driving  fast  on  shore,  a  little 
prayer-meeting  was  formed 
down  in  the  cabin.  The  Rev. 
Mr.  Hodge,  an  English  cler- 
gyman, led  the  devotions  of 
the  wild  and  clustering 
throng ;  and  as,  amidst  white 
fece^  weeping,  cries  for 
mercjr,  famiiieM  dinging  to 


each  other,  and  bidding  each 
other,  and  all  they  held  dear, 
a  long,  long  farewell — as, 
prophet-like,  that  one  man 
stood  in  the  midst — how 
noble  and  sublime  even,  to 
hear  bim  lift  up  his  voice  of 
prayer  I  Literally,  while 
they  prayed,  the  gulf  opened 
beneath  their  ^  feet,  and  the 
surge  drowned  them  in  its 
midnight  depths. 

And  what  made  it  all  the 
more  deplorable  was  that, 
about  half-past  six  o'clock,  a 
Portuguese  sailor  had  swam 
ashore,  and*  with  a  rope 
round  his  waist,  had  man- 
aged to  establish  a  line  be- 
tween the  ship  and  the 
rocks.  But  a  few  yards  were 
between  the  two  I  But  then 
they  were  yards  of  death, 
as  much  so  as  if  they  had 
been  broad  as  the  Atlantic. 
About  a  dozen  people  were 
passed  along  the  line,  and 
got  safe  on  the  cliffs.  When 
the  crash  came — and  as  the 
passengers,  by  the  captain's 
orders,  were  mostly  all  be- 
low— all  perished  where  they  i 
stood.  The  voyage  had  been  | 
so  long  and  so  safe — it  was  ' 
so  near  home — and  yet  they 
died  at  the  very  door  I  In  a 
few  minutes  the  Y)Q«Lc\i  nv«a 
strewn  with  the  vrreek.* 

One  quettion  of  ^o\i>  m? 

\1 


\ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBABOBT. 


reader,  ere  you  tarn  awaj : 
Would  it  not  be  sad  if  you 
were  all  safe  but  one  etep — if 
your  soul  were  lost  near 
home  —  just  one  ace  from 
Jesus*  feet?  Yet  that  is 
possible  quite,  and  I.  fear, 
has   been    in   the   case  of 


thousands.  The  one  last 
inch  between  you  and  Him 
may  be  as  much  as  a  great 
gulf  fixed.  Win  Christ,  then, 
now,  that  you  be  found  in 
Him  in  the  great  day,  not 
near  home]  only,  but  home 
quite  and  for  ever ! 


**|s  itto^U  Wtfe%^feit^?" 


2  Ki;crGS  iv.  26. 


^S  it  well  with  the  child  ?     'Tis  well ! 
There's  peace  on  the  marble  brow, 
Calmly  the  little  limbs 
Recline  in  slumber  now : 
There^s  a  smile  on  the  dimpled  cheek, 

Where  the  tears  so  lately  fell, 
And,  oh,  could  these  lips  but  speak, 
They  too  would  say— "  *Tis  well ! " 


It  is  well  for  weary  labour 

When  the  hours  of  toil  are  done ; 
It  is  well  for  the  tempest-driven 

When  t^e  anchorage  is  won ; 
But,  oh,  what  thought  can  picture, 

What  tongue  can  ever  tell 
The  calm  of  the  distant  haven 

The  child  has  reached  ?— 'Tis  well  1 


J^ 


There,  robed  in  spotless  brightness. 
Standing  before  God's  face. 

Hymning  the  endless  story 
Of  His  redeeming  grace ; 

Led  by  life's  brimming  river. 
Where  joys  unfading  dwell, 

Kept  by  the  Lamb  for  ever, — 
'Tia  well  with  the  chUd,  'Us  we\\\ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBABURT. 


®&e  ®0jag*  0f  tl^e  ''|0jf/' 


>EARLY  fifteen  years 
ago,  Sir  John 
Franklin,  com- 
manding two  ships,  the 
Erebus  and  the  Terror,  sailed 
'  away  into  the  northern  seas, 
seeking  a  passage  that  had 
been  often  sought  in  vain 
through  tlie  great  belt  of 
ice  that  hems  in  the  Pole. 
He  was  last  seen  in  the 
summer  of  1845,  and  after 
that  he  and  his  ships  seem 
to  have  vanished  into  the 
Arctic  shadows.  Expedition 
after  expedition  of  brave 
men  went  out  in  search  of 
them,  but  no  trace  was 
found,  save,  in  1854,  a  few 
relics  brought  home  by  Dr. 
Rae,  which  he  had  picked 
np  among  the  Esquimaux, 
and  which  shewed  that  Sir 
John  and  his  crews  had  but 
too  surely  perished  in  the 
ice.  Still  the  awful  story 
was  not  made  out;  and  in 
1858,  one  more  voyage  was 
taken  in  hand  by  Captain 
MH^lintock  iu  the  Fox, 
a  little  craft  that  had  been 
a  summer  yacht,  but  was 
taken  down,  and  almost 
quite  rebuilt,  to  fit  her  for 
her  task.  How  the  brave 
M'Clintock  and  Ma  twenty^ 


five  of  a  crew — for  he  ha<1 
no  more— >went  through  with 
his  search,  and  how  strange 
were  their  discoveries,  I  am 
about  to  tell  you  out  of  his 
own  book. 

THE  "  POX"  INSIDB. 

Internally  she  was  fitted 
np  with  the  strictest  eco- 
nomy in  every  sense,  and 
the  officers  were  crammed 
into  pigeon  holes,  styled 
cabins,  in  order  to  make 
room  for  provisions  and 
stores;  our  mess-room  for 
five  persons,  measured  eight 
feet  square!  The  ordinary 
heating  apparatus  for  winter 
use  was  dispensed  with,  and 
its  place  supplied  by  a  few 
very  small  stoves. 

OYRR  THB  BAR. 

Scarcely  had  we  left  the 
busy  world  behind  us  (sail- 
ing from  Aberdeen),  when 
we  were  actively  engaged  in 
making  arrangements  for 
present  comfort  and  future 
exertion.  How  busy,  how 
happy,  and  how  full  of  hope 
we  all  were  then ! 

On  the  night  of  2d  J\ily 
we  passed  through  th^  l^«cv\.- 
land  Firth,  where  the  X\^%, 
rushing  impetuousYy  fi^"«ifc 


VoL.I^IfO  Z, 


THE  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*B  TRBASURT. 


a  strong  wind,  raised  up  a 
tremendous  sea,  amid  which 
the  little  vessel  struggled 
bravely  under  steam  and 
canvass.  The  bleak  wild 
shores  of  Orkney ;  the  still 
wilder  pilot's  crew,  and  their 
hoarse  screams  and  unin- 
telligible dialect;  the  shrill 
cry  of  innumerable  sea- 
birds,  the  howling  breeze, 
and  angry  sea,  made  us  feel 
HS  if  we  had  suddenly  awoke 
in  Greenland  itself.  The 
southern  extremity  of  that 
ice-locked  continent  became 
visible  on  the  12th.  It  is 
quaintly  named  Cape  Fare- 
well ;  but  whether  by  some 
sanguine  outward  -  bound 
adventurer,  who  fancied 
that  in  leaving  Greenland 
behind  him  he  had  already 
secured  his  passage  to 
Cathay,  or  whether  by  the 
wearied,  home-sick  mariner, 
feebly  *  escaping  from  the 
grasp  of  winter  in  his  shat- 
tered bark,  and  firmly  pur- 
posing to  bid  a  long  farewell 
to  this  cheerless  land,  his 
tory  altogether  fails  to  en- 
lighten us. 

THB  NOOK  OF  FISKBRNAES. 

Tlie  solitary  dwelling-house 

belongs,  of  course,  to  the  chief 

trader,  and  is  a  model    of 

c/eanli'nes8  Mud  order.    Built 
U 


of  wood,  it  exhibits  all  the 
resources  of  the  painter*s 
art.  The  exterior  is  a  dull 
red  —  the  window  frames 
are  white  —  floors  yellow — 
wooden  partitions  and  low 
ceilings  pale  blue.  The  lady 
of  the  house  (a  Dane)  had 
resided  here  for  about  eight 
years,  and  appeared  to  us  to 
be,  and  acknowledged  she 
was,  heartily  tired  of  the 
solitude.  I  expressed  a  wish 
to  see  the  interior  of  an 
Esquimaux  tent.  Petersen 
pulled  aside  the  thin  mem- 
brane of  some  animal  which 
hung  across  a  doorway,  and 
served  to  exclude  the  wind, 
but  admitted  light;  for,  al- 
though past  midnight,  the 
sun  was  up !  Some  seven  or 
eight  individuals  lay  within, 
closely  packed  upon  the 
ground,  the  heads  of  old  and 
young  males  and  females 
being  just  visible  above  the 
common  covering.  Going 
to  bed  here  only  means  lying 
down  with  your  clothes  on, 
upon  a  reindeer  skin,  where- 
ever  you  can  find  room,  and 
pulling  another  fur  robe  over 
you. 

THB  DOG-DRIVER. 

A  young  Esquimaux,  named 
Christian,    volunteered    his 
\  sexvicea  a&  ova  ^o%Axvv«c^ 


THB  BABBITII  SOBOLAK  •  (KBAtlTkr. 


WM  accepted ;  b«  ia  I 
abiHit  twenty -three  ymrt  of 
tge,  umn&nied,  and  an 
otpiuin.  The  men  loon  ' 
Uioroughly  clean  Bed  and 
ciopped  him,  —  «oap  and 
leinorg  being  a  noTeltj 
lo  an  Eaquimauz ;  tliey  then 
rigged  hi  id  in  sailor's 
elulhes ;  he  waa  eTidentlj 
not  at  home  in  them,  but 
waa  nut  tiie  less  proud  of  his 
improved  appearance,  as  re- 
flecKd  in  the  admiring  . 
glances  of  his  caantrymen.     i 


We  now  battened  away  to 
the  Waigat  Strait  to  com- 
plete OUT  coals.  When  paa- 
sing  Godhavn  (a  Dimiib 
settlement),  ttie  pilot  wot 
launched  off  oar  deck  in  hia 
Utile  kayak  wlAout  stopping 
the  ihip  I  As  a  kayak  It 
usually  about  18  feet  long,  S 
inchea  deep,  and  only  I6  or 
IT  incliea  wide,  it  requires 
great  expertoess  to  perform 
such  a  feat  without  the  addi- 
tion of  a  capsize. 


There  ia  much  to  excite 
intense  admlraUon  and 
woDiIer   around    us.      One 


the  grandeur  of  this  mighty 
gtacier,  extending  tmbrolien 
for  forty  or  fifty  miles;  its 
Bea  ciifls,  about  6ie  or  six 
miles  from  us,  a[^ar  com- 
paratively low,  yet  the  ice- 
l»erg>  detached  from  it  are 
of  the  loftiest  description. 
Here  on  the  spot  it  doe*  na( 
teenr  Jaeorrect  to  coinpare 
lie  icebergi  to  mere  chip-  j 


ptnga  off  its  edge,  and  the 
floe  -  ioe  to  the  thinnest 
abavinga. 

The  far-ofT  outline  of  gla- 
cier, seen  againet  the  eastern 
sky,  has  a  faint  tinge  of 
yellow.  It  is  almost  hori- 
Eontal,  and  of  unknown  dis- 
tance and  eleration. 

There      is     an     udusuhI 
dearth  of   birds  and   seals. 
Everything    aroaad    us    ii 
painfully     still,     excepting 
when  an  rccasional  \ce\:mf     ^ 
splita  off  from  1A\«  ^kT«at 
glacier;     then    we   \»e*t   ». 
Y5 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLA&'s  TRBASURr. 


rumbliDg  crash  like  distant 
thunder,  and  the  wave  oc- 
casioned by  the  launch 
reaches  us  in  six  or  seven 
minutes,  and  makes  the  ship 
roll  lazilj^  for  a  similar 
period.  I  cannot  imagine 
that,  within  the  whole  com- 
pass of  Nature's  varied 
aspects,  there  is  presented 
to  the  human  eye  a  scene  so 
well  adapted  for  promoting 
deep  and  serious  reflection, 
for  lifting  the  thoughts  from 
trivial  things  of  every- day 
life  to  others  of  the  highest 
import. 

The  glacier  seems  to  re- 
mind one,  at  once,  of  time 
and  of  eternity  —  of  time, 
since  we  see  portions  of  it 
break  off  to  drift  and  melt 
away  ;  and  of  eternity,  since 
its  downward  march  is  so 
extremely  slow,  and  its  aug- 
mentations behind  so  re- 
gular, that  no  change  in  its 
appearance  is  perceptible 
from  age  to  age.  If  even 
the  luitaught  savages  of 
luxuriant  tropical  regions 
regard  the  earth  merely  as 
a  temporary  abode,  surely 
all  who  gaze  upon  this  ice- 
overwhelmed  region,  this 
wide  expanse  of  terrestial 
wreck,  must  be  similiarly 
assured  that  ^^here  we  have 

J^o  abiding  place. " 
16 


BURIAL  IN  THE  PACK. 

At  the  beginning  of  winter, 

the  great  quantities  of  ice 

that  drift  out  from  the  North 

Pole,  and  that  are  called  the 

pack^  seized  the  little  ship  as 

she  tried  to  cross,  froze  her 

in,   and    there    for  months 

and  months  held  her  fast. 

while,  slowly,  the  vast  drift 

carried     her     back     many 

hundreds  of  miles  I     There 

was  no  help    for   it;    and, 

during  the   long  weeks   in 

which   the   sun  was   never 

seen,   the   crew  buried   the 

decks  in  snow,  and,  down  in 

iheir  little  cabins,  passed  the 

time    as  cheerily    as    they 

could. 

One  of  the  number  died, 

and  was  buried  thus : — 

"  The  greater  part  of  the 
church  service  whs  read  on 
board,  under  shelter  ol  the 
housing  ;  the  body  was  then 
placed  upon  a  sledge,  and 
drawn  by  the  messmates  of 
the  deceased,  to  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  ship,  w  here  a 
hole  through  the  ice  liad  been 
cut ;  it  was  then  committed 
to  the  deep,  and  the  service 
closed.  What  a  scene  it 
was!  I  shall  never  forget 
it.  The  lonely  Fox  al- 
most buried  in  snow —com- 
pletely isolated  from  the 
world—her  colours  half-mast 
high,  and  bell  mournfully 
tolling  *,  our  little  procession 
slowly   matviYvvu^^   o\%.\  \Vv^ 


TUB  SABBITH  SCBOLAR'A  TABASUBT. 


rough  surface  of  the  frozen 
sea,  guided  by  lanterns  and 
direction  posts,  amid  the 
dark  and  dreary  depth  of 
Arctic  winter ;  the  deathlike 
stillness,  the  intense  cold, 
and  threatening  aspect  of  a 
murky  overcast  sky  ;  and  all 
this  heightened  by  one  ot 
those  strange  lunar  pheno- 
mena vrhich  are  but  seldom 
seen  even  here — a  complete 
balo  encircling   the    moon, 


through  which  passed  a 
horizontal  baud  of  pale 
light  that  encompassed  the 
heavens;  above  the  moon 
appeared  the  segments  of 
tMo  other  halos,  and  there 
were  also  mock  moons  to 
the  number  of  six.  The 
misty  atmosphere  lent  a  very 
ghastly  hue  to  this  singular 
display,  which  lasted  lor 
rather  more  than  au  hour." 
(To  be  continued.) 


^nwria,  anb  a  i^ttw:  Comitrg. 


/ 


;HIPS  from  America 
are  every  day 
arriving  in  our 
ports,  and  ships  bound 
for  America  are  every  day 
leaving  tliem.  How  aston- 
ishing is  the  fact  that,  four 
hundred  years  ago,  people  in 
this  part  of  the  world  did 
not  know  that  there  was 
such  a  place  as  America! 
This  is  a  fact  so  strange, 
that  we  can  scarcely  feel  it 
to  be  true.  Four  hundred 
years  ago,  and  not  a  king, 
not  a  philosopher  in  Europe, 
knew  that,  away  beyond  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  thexe  was  a 
great  country,  to  and  from 
which  thousands  of  ships  are 
now  always  passing  I 
Does  this  not  put  you  in 
mind  of  **a  better  country,  '[ 


even  an  heavenly?"  Hun- 
dreds of  years  ago  our  fore- 
fathers did  not  know  that 

"There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight. 
Where  saints  immortal  reign." 

There  were  no  hymns  about 
heaven  then.  When  people 
died,  there  was  no  one  to 
point  them  to  the  '*  happy 
land,  far  far  away."  No 
heaven !  Oh,  what  an  awful 
thing  it  must  have  been  for 
people  not  to  know  that 
there  was  a  heaven  1  We 
are  told  by  history  that,  when 
news  came  that  America  had 
been  discovered,  men  and 
women  were  frantic  with 
joy.  They  treated  the  man 
who  discovered  it  as  if  he  had 
been  a  king.  I  suppose  v\ie^ 
rang  the  bells  wad  did  e^et^  - 

ttnn^  they  could  to  ex\^T^%% 

\1 


TBI  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


their  joy,  WouM  it  not  be 
well  if  people  were  as  happy 
because  heayen  has  been 
made  known  ?  Are  you 
thankful  for  heaven  ?  Do 
you  love  Him — the  blessed 
Jesus— who  made  it  known 


to  you,  and  bought  you  an 
entrance  to  it  with  His  own 
blood  ?  You  may  never  set 
foot  in  America,  there  may 
be  no  call  on  you  to  go,  but 
are  you  travelling  to  the 
Better  Country?         T.  D. 


(SjOXkI  "getfs. 


I  ORAL  reefs  and  is- 
lands are  the  work 
of  tiny  insects, 
which  are  so  small 
as  to  be  scarcely  perceptible 
to  the  naked  eye.  They  first 
make  a  deposit  on  rocks  that 
already  exist  far  down  in  the 
ocean  depths — ^year  after 
year  they  add  to  the  massive 
structure,  and  by-and-by  it 
realrs  its  head  above  the 
waters,  an  undying  monu- 
ment of  the  skill  and  in- 
dustry of  the  little  archi- 
tects. In  the  course  of 
time,  sand,  washed  up  by 
the  ocean,  mingles  with  the 
feathers  and  guano  of  birds, 
and  thus  a  soil  is  formed. 
Gradually  seeds  are  dropped, 
perhaps  by  some  little  bird 
in  its  winged  passa;^e  a- 
cross  the  waters,  or  it  may 
be  borne  thither  by  the 
summer  breeze,  and  soon 
the  coral  isle  is  covered  with 
verdure,  adding  yet  another 
to  those  beautiful  oases  of 
the  deep  blue  sea,  which  be- 
come the  permanent  abode 
of /Aoitsanefs  of  oar  race.    In 

/AJs  n^ajr have  doubtless  been 
18 


formed  most  of  the  islands 
in  the  Pacific,  as  well  as 
those  belonging  to  Australia, 
and  the  number  is  constant- 
ly and  rapidly  increasing. 
They  are  found  in  all  stages, 
— some  just  below  the  sur- 
face, some  sending  forth  a 
stray  branch  here  and  there 
above  the  water,  and  others 
entirely  hidden  beneath  the 
stormy,  restless  waves. 

The  corals  are  of  various 
colours,  from  the  pale  rose 
tnt  to  the  gorgeous  crimson, 
green,  blue,  and  royal  purple 
fringed  with  gold,  and,  per- 
haps more  beautiful  than 
all,  the  virgin  white;  alto- 
gether a  beauteous  exhibi- 
tion of  nature's  own  group- 
ing and  colouring,  over 
which  old  Ocean  plays  glit- 
tering in  the  sunbeam,  and 
dancing  in  foaming  spray 
over  the  frail  bark  of  the 
adventurous  mariner.  One 
of  these  boats  our  little 
readers  will  see  in  the  pic- 
ture. The  men  are  South 
Sea  Islanders,  who  have 
probably  gone  out  to  get 
specimens  ot  theB^  \>e«>.>iM\t\!\ 


cnr&la,  whicit  the]'  will  eell  igtsad  ot  Eramanga,  lo  henr 
fur  a  good  price  to  the  first  i  a  message  of  mercy  to  its 
Koropean  or  Ameriunn  «liip  bemglited  iiiliabitiinTi  Mis- 
"  '  comes  in,  Had  tljLBU  aiotiiriea  bale  siOLe  betii 
tpecimena  may  cnrtdi  mmij'  settlLd  on  ttie  ielunii,  ami 
*  cabinet  in  our  own  fair  I  are  labouring  wilh  a  Rood 
luid.  prospect  of  succeas     In  a 

It  is  well  known  that  the    conTersntioii  with  Ilie  chief 
ile»oted   miBiionary  of   the,  who  murdered  Mr. WiVWwnv    \ 
iilinds   in  the  VaaiSc,    (J'e  ,' respecting  tliBYeasonft^tit^v    \ 
Ser.   John    WilHama,    w;u  I  Jed  Jiim  to  commit  fhe-v"\o- 
manUred  on  iMnding  oa  the  ,'  Jence,  lie  said  that  tTe\«wt> 


THE  SABBATH  fiCHOLAB'ft  TBKAtUBT* 


had  Tisited  his  land  just  be- 
fore, and  had  murdered  his 
son  ;  and  he  was  resoWed  to 
1)6  rerenged  on  the  next 
white  man  who  came  on 
shore.    Ue  was    now  both 


sorry    and    ashamed, 
yerj  club  with  which, 
said,     Mr.    Williams 
killed,  was  given  to  the 
sionary.  —  Sabbath      & 
VigUar  {AmericoM). 


"  ^'«rg  (gffob,  ani  Wtxi^  '§u^r 


HEAD  lately  that  a 
Christian  said,  when 
he  wa«  dying,  **  The 
Lord  Jesus  is  very 
good,  and  Tery  rich."  Is 
not  this  a  beautiful  saying  ? 
The  Lord  Jesus  very  good, 
and  very  rich !  Some  per- 
sons are  good  or  Had,  but 
they  are  not  rich.  Tliey  have 
the  wish  to  make  people 
happy,  but  they  have  not 
much  power.  The  poor 
widow  whom  Christ  speaks 
of  was  very  gooJ :  she 
wanted  very  mu^  to  assist 
God's  cause,  but  all  that  she 
had  to  ?ive  was  one  far- 
thing!    There     are     otliers, 


aoain^  who  are  very  rid 
thof    are    not    pood. 
have  the   power   to   i 
men  happy,  but  they 
not  the  wish.    I  have 
about    a    miser   who 
thousands  of  pounds,  v 
he  kept  locked  up  in  i 
at  home,  and  he  woulc 
give  one  single  pennj 
for    the    good    of    o< 
Christ  is  not  like  the  wi 
for  Ue  is  very  rich ;  an 
is  not  like  the  miser,  fc 
is    very    good.     Heme 
these  beautiful  dying  \ 
of  a  holy  man,  *'  The 
Jesus  is  very  good,  and 
rich."  T. 


CHAPTEB     II. 

JESSIE     LEE     had     was  overfluoded  with  a 
strange       dreams     light,    and    out    from 

, that  night.      She  ;  shadows    she     beheld 

was  lying,  as  she  thought,  in  j  come  to  her  very  fair, 
a  spot  that  was  closed  in  with  ,  clustering  tresses  of 
thick  and  dreadful  darkness  •, ;  go\d,  aiv^  e-j^*  of  the  d« 
but  the  spot  where  she  lay     and  aoile%X.>Avkft.  ^ti^i 
20 


'   lolMAat  the  poOTcrouchIng  |  her  bekrl,  "I  wUh  I  were 

,   iliieper  with  great  aadueta,  atleep,  tu  Jream  that  draam 

ud  Ihen,  when  Beuie  feared  I  again." 

■hit  wai  to  liappen  ne^it,  Slie  vaa,  more  than  uiual, 

,   ud  laid  in  hei  heart,  "That  tattered     and     disbevelled, 

ii  tbe  lorel;  lace  I  hw  be-  nnd   the  wut  (for  it   was  a 

Keen  tbe  gable  end* — huw  rain7daj'),lbroughwhicblhe 

droffit  is  from  mel"  to  lier  had  ])addled  ri'ukleasly  in  thit 

lapriie,    il    (tooped    down  ttieeli,  had  made  lier  dreu 

cloee  to  ber — tbe  aoft  breath  drip  aud  her  baJr  ton  about 

of  iu  lipa  Kama  un  her  cheek  her  face.    You  may  imagine 

— ud,  quick  a*  thought,  »he  how   the    atared    therefore, 

uiuldnothelpaaliing, "How  when   on  opening  ibe  door 

•n  yon  10  beautiful  ?  "  1  ihe  Aral  henrd  a  very  sweet 

"it  is  a  tecret,"  wbiapered  Toice     aa    of    one    reading 

iIk  lipa,  and,  ai  ttiey  parted  aloud  and  llien  «aw,  tittiiig 

to  utter  tbe  word*,  tbe  dark  on  a  atool  near  lier  motlier 
I   KM  fell  in  upuD  the  viiiou 

■nd  it  waa  gone.  Beaaie  ' 
nkcned  with  great  pain  at 
li«r  heart,  becauia  ihe  luwl 
aet  found  out  that  aecret 
.  )Dd,aaBhe  kindled  the  hre 
iMted  ber  uiolbet'a  chair 
ud  made  ready  her  poor 
Imikfast,  ahe  was  more  iLaii 
,  eier  diaeontenteil  tbat 
muming,  aud.  Indeed,  ran 
t'aj     lo     school    without 

,   uttering  one  word,  or  leaving  a  alight  gentle  girl,  whose     I 

the  Bible  open,  «*  elie  knew  lialf-tumed  face  wa»  the  fair     ; 

.   iIm  ihould  have  itone,  oa  her  fate   aha  hod   aeeu   in    her 

^   mother'*  knee.  dream  I      She   stood    quite 

I      It  was  some  time  again  in  iransGzcd,  and  not  daring, 

,    tbe  afternoon  when  slja  re-  out  of  tiie   shadow  of  the 

.    turned;   and,   as  she  came  door,  Co  move. 

,    clattering  up  the  poor  dark  The  word*  that  fell  \iptm    ^ 

I    iiair,  it  WMS  TO  dJimaJ,  tliat  ber  ear,  u  ahe  eutCTcd,  w«i« 

«to  aarAerf   i/teerJf   wHUin  thet,   add.ctsed  to   Uie  vv*. 


THB  SABBATH  BOROLAR'S  TRBA8URT. 


ralid  by  her  gentle  visitor — 
"That  Christ  may  dwell  in 
your  heart  by  faith !  ** 

They  were  from  the  open 
Bible;  and  then  the  lips 
that  had  read  them  repeated 
them  and  explained  them 
a  little ;  and,  while  they  did 
80,  the  thin  countenance  of 
the  sufferer  was  lit  up  in  a 
way  It  had  not  been  for 
many  days.  But  Bessie  did 
not  catch  what  was  said. 
She  was  greedily  looking 
with  her  whole  soul,  and 
asking  within  herself,  "  Will 
she  tell  me  the  secret  ?  IJ  o w 
is  it  she  is  so  very  lovely  ?  " 

She  thought  it  might  be 
because  she  was  dressed  in 
fine  clothes;  then,  that  it 
was  because  she  was  evi- 
dently a  lady,  and  very  rich  ; 
then,  that  her  features  and 
hair  were,  the  one  delicate 
as  pearl,  the  other  glistening: 
like  gold.  Who  would  not 
he  beautiful  with  all  these 
happy  things? 

But  presently  uprose  the 
visitor  from  her  stool,  and, 
with  a  touch  on  the  hand  of 
Bessie's  mother,  said  good- 
bye. She  looked  full  at 
Bessie  as  she  passed  out — 
smiled  a  very  radiant  smile 
— and,  with  the  words,  "  I 
H-aa   told   of  your  mother 

being^  so  ill,  aud  I  came  in 
22 


to   read   to   her  a    little," 
was  gone. 

Bessie  brooded  much  over 
the  incident  all  evening.  It 
was  very  singular,  as  she  did 
so,  she  was,  in  a  kind  of 
mechanical  way,  more  active 
through  the  little  room.  She 
tidied  the  hearth ;  she  at- 
tended to  her  mother's  wants 
with  a  kinder  manner;  she 
put  things  to  rights  here 
and  there ;  and,  lastly,  she 
looked  at  herself  in  the  old 
favourite  mirror.  It  cer- 
tainly presented  a  very  dingy 
and  besmeared  face,  and, 
as  Bessie  saw  it,  she  laughed 
in  her  heart,  and  said, 
"It  is  no  secret  how  to  be 
ugly.  If  she  asked  me  that 
question,  I  would  point 
there!*' 

Several  days  thereafter, 
Bessie  was  returning  from 
an  errand  on  which  she  had 
been  sent  a  little  way  into 
the  country,  when,  at  a 
sharp  turn  of  the  road,  she 
heard  a  loud  scream,  and 
then,  out  of  a  coppice  hard 
by,  a  riderless  pony  dashed 
in  wild  fright,  and,  with  the 
stirrups  of  the  saddle  flying 
about  it,  galloped  away  at 
great  speed.  Bessie  stood  a 
while  uncertain  and  afraid, 
but  it  struck  her  that  was 
\  the    poT\y    ii^vieii  \s^  \i«t 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAR'S  IRBASURIT. 


mother*s  yisitor;  and  so, 
setting  down  her  basket,  she 
plunged  into  the  thicket,  the 
branches  hitting  in  her  eyes 
as  eagerly  she  groped  and 
peered  about.  At  last,  on 
the  sward  of  a  green  path, 
tiirough  the  wood,  to  her 
terror,  she  came  on  what  she 
thought  was  the  dead  form 
of  the  fair  young  lady. 
Never  had  she  seen  anything 
so  angel- like  in  its  loveliness. 
The  face  was  white  as 
marble,  the  eyes  closed,  the 
lips  slightly  apart,  the  sunny 
hair  straying  across  the 
brow,  and  the  arm  laid 
across  the  still  heart.  Bessie 
knew  not  what  to  do.  In 
her  agony  she  screamed 
aloud — then  ture  open  the 
bonnet  strings — then  flew  to 
the  little  brook  that  pattered 
near,  and,  lifting  two  hand- 
luls  of  water,  dashed  it  on 
the  cold  face.  Then  kneel 
ing  down,  she  burst  into 
tears  —  passionately  kissed 
the  lips  again  and  again — 
sorrowed  that  the  water  had 
been  dashed  over  the  fine 
clothes — and  finally,  as  her 
gaze  fell  on  a  gash  across 
the  temples  where  the  btood 
was  faintly  oozing,  in  her 
horror  she  made  the  place 
rio^  wJHi  ber  cries. 
You  see   tbat^  after   all,  i 


there  was  a  deep  well  in 
Bessie  Lee*8  heart,  that 
gushed  up  when  the  right 
touch  reached  it.  Several 
long  minutes  had  passed 
meantime,  and  at  length  the 
fair  girl  before  her  feebly 
sighed,  and  the  large  eyes 
opened  as  in  a  dream. 
Bessie  was  in  the  act  of  kiss* 
ing  her  in  wild  gladness 
again  just  as  at  the  instant 
a  band  of  several  persons 
broke  through  the  trees,  and 
hurried  to  the  spot.  They 
were  servants  and  others 
who  had  heard  and  taken 
the  alarm — for  it  is  lucky 
sometimes,  evil  news  do  fly 
fast.  Bessie  was  roughly 
thrust  aside  as  if  she  had 
been  doing  mischief  instead 
of  help ;  and,  as  twenty 
hands  were  round  abouc  the 
young  lady,  raising  her,  car- 
essmg  her,  and  carrying  her 
away,  the  poor  ragged  girl 
shrank  bitterly  into  the 
shadow  of  the  branches,  and 
looked  out,  subbing  as  if  her 
heart  would  break.  Every- 
one was  asking  louder  than 
another,  how  did  it  happen — 
was  the  wound  dangerous — 
what  was  to  be  done  ?  !None 
noticed  Bessie  where  she 
stood;  only  as  the  ctont^ 
bore  their  burden  geTiW^ 
aw^ay,  the   sweet  lace  via^ 

2% 


TRB  8ABBATB  80HOLA.R*S  TRBASURT. 


lifted  for  a  mornent,  and  the 
soft  eyes  looked  wistfully 
about  as  if  searching  for 
some  one — but  the  head 
drooped  again,  and  slowly 
the  procession  moved  away, 
the  voices  dying  in  the  wood, 
and  Bessie  being  left  alone. 

She  SRt  down  for  a  long 
time  and  thought  much  on 
what  had  happened.  Nothing 
save  the  kisses  she  liad  been 
allowed  to  shower  on  that 
face  of  beauty  could  she 
dwell  on.  Her  lips  burned 
with  them  yet.  Then  she 
felt  that  she  loved  that  face 


as  she  had  loved  nothing  in 
the  world  before,  and  that 
she  conld  almost  die  if  shr 
had  one  hundredth  portion  of 
its  beauty.  What  was  there 
in  it — would  she  never  see 
it  again—would  the  mouth 
she  had  kissed  never  speak 
to  her  and  tell  its  secret  ? 

At  this  point  I  ought  to 
answer,  Yes ;  but  Bessie  lifted 
her  basket  and  went  on  her 
way  that  time  without  a  re- 
ply being  given  yet ;  and  so, 
I  fear,  must  my  readers,  for 
another  chapter,  when  the 
secret  will  be  told. 


JOWN  in  the  depths  of  the  lonely  sea, 
I  work  at  my  mystic  masonry. 
Ages  behold  my  ceaseless  toil 
When  the  sea  is  calm,  or  the  waters  boil. 
I've  crusted  the  plants  of  the  deep  with  stone, 
And  given  them  colouring  not  their  own  ; 
And  now  on  the  ocean  fields  they  spread 
Their  fan-like  branches  of  white  and  red. 
Oh,  who  can  £uhion  a  work  like  me, 
The  mason  of  God  in  the  boundless  sea! 


^4 


Turrets  of  stone,  though  huge  and  gray. 
Have  crumbled  and  passed  in  dust  away ; 
Cities  that  sank  in  the  sea  of  3'ore 
Have  turned  to  slime  by  the  fetid  shore  : 
But  when  shall  crumble  the  coral  wall, 
That  parts  the  billows  so  bright  and  tall  ? 
Oh,  who  can  fashion  a  work  like  me, 
Tbe  mason  of  God  In  the  boundless  sea^ 


SJe  ftjroji!  si  Sin. 


e*a  tawtn  aaj 
idea  of  the  tsnible  pain  «nd  ; 
miMiy  Bttanding  iL  Et  ia  i 
DDthlDg  thorl  of  >  llTing 
death.  Commencing  at  fint 
Mcretly,  It  »1o»It  ipread*, 
ud  muij  jeaiM  come  acd 
go  while  the  bod/  i«  being 
comipted  with  it,  till  at 
lut  the  limbf  and  joint* 
low  their  power  and  fail  lo 
^ece«.  Ho  core  !■  known  g 
little  can  be  done  to  sllerl- 
ale  the  lufferinga  itcaiuea; 
and  even  where  the*e  are 
not  great,  the  poor  leper's 
daj*  pui  wearilj  awaf  In 
reetlew  weakne**  and  hope- 
leu  grief.  In  the  Itit  itage 
of  tlia  diaeaae  tlie  appearance 
of  the  enSbrer  becotnei  hide- 
ou  and    miMrable    in  the 


Lmong  IbeJew^  bj  God'$ 
)   gommmil,    the    leper    wgm 


iJeaKdU 


dealt  with  M 
a  rinner  and 

for  death  and 
all  licknen 
are  bnt  the 
fVuIt  of  (in. 
Not  that  he 
waa  always 
gailtier  than 
□tlien,  but 
Ood  wai 
nee  lliia,  lite  wont 
of  all  diieaMi,  to  teach  ni 
thit  great  and  niema  lea- 
son— the  hateftol  and  deadly 
natore  of  tin.  Acoordingl}', 
the  leper  wa«  bidden  to 
moam  for  himtelf  a*  for  the 
dead,  and  be  carried  about 
with  him  tlie  uaual  lymbde 
of  grief;  hie  clothe*  were 
torn,  hi*  bead  bare,  and  hi* 
lip  coreled.  For  the  mme 
reaaon  he  wai  leparated  from 
hi(  people,  and  tbe  lilence 
of  hi*  Mlitnde  wa*  only  in- 
termpted  bj  the  meiuicholy 
bitter  C17  that  broke  erer 
and  again  ftom  hii  mnllled 
lipa,  "  Unclean !  vncleaa  I ' 
Now  aU  thl*,  a*  I  bare 
•^d,  la  Imt  a  piolure  of  the 
■inner.  Bnt  tt  itn  ptctwa  \ 
be  ao  awful,  how  vouSk  mom  ^ 
teiTf  Ue  mmt  be  the  noKta— 
26 


THS  SABBATH  80HOLAB  8  TRBA8URT. 


that  disease  which  corrupts 
and  destroys  the  soul,  the 
leprosy  of  sin.  The  Bible 
tells  us  that  every  man,  by 
nature  and  by  wicked  works, 
18  dead  in  sin,  separated  fiom 
Godf  and  that  he  will  never 
be  an  inhabitant  of  the 
hearvenly  Jerusalem,  for 
**4keie  shall  in  no  wise  enter 
into  it'on^thing  that  d^lethr 
Among  the  great  multi- 
tudes who  heard  the  Sermon 
on  4he  Mount,  was  one  of 
these  miserable  men  St. 
Luke  tells  us  that  he  was 
''^JkiU  of  leprosy,"  far  gone 
in  it,  diseased  ifrom  head  to 
foot.  I  almost  fancy  I  see 
him  lingering  sadly  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  crowd,  a- 
voided  in  his  loathsome 
misery  by  all,  but  listening 
(perhaps  all  the  more  eager- 
ly) as  the  words  of  infinite 
wisdom  and  mercy,  from 
the  lips  of  the  great  Teacher, 
are  wafted  over  the  multi- 
tude, and  fall  upon  his  ear. 
He  is  impressed  by  the  hea- 
venly majesty,  and  power, 
and  love  of  4he  Speaker. 
His  heart  bums  within  him ; 
and,  as  the  sermon  advances, 
hia  anxioua  face  is  lifted  up, 
at  times,  with  hope,  and 
sometimes  clouded  again 
wiih  doubt  ami  sorrow. 
JBu^  M§  be  UateDB,  1  if  con- 


victions  deepen,  his  faith 
becomes  strong;  and  now, 
when  Jesus  rises,  and  the 
crowd  follows  Him  down  the 
mountain  side,  the  leper 
presses  forward  close  to  the 
Lord  himself,  and,  casting 
himself  at  His  feet,  cries, 
''Lord,  if  Thou  wih.  Thou 
canst  make  me  clean**  How 
much  is  expressed  in  that 
little  prayer  I  What  ear- 
nestness, what  humility — 
above  all,  what  firm,  simple 
faith !  He  keenly  felt  his 
pollution,  and  longed  to  be 
cleansed .  He  was  convinced 
that  Jesus  could  do  this  for 
him.  His  only  fear  was  lest 
his  very  loathsomeness  and 
wretchedness  should  make 
the  Saviour  vnwilUng.  But, 
''Jesus  put  forth  His  hand,  and 
touched  him,  saying^  1  will :  be 
thou  clenn.  And  immediately 
his  leprosy  was  cleansed** 

Is  not,  then,  the  Great 
Physician  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  for  ever  ? 

Come,lepeT,fleisethe  present  hoar, 
A  SaTionr's  grvceto  proTe : 

He  can  relieve,  #6r  He  has  power; 
He  lOill^  for  He  is  lore. 

May  God,  in  mercy,  help 
each  one  who  reads  this  to 
cry  earnestly  from  the  depth 
of  his  heart;  "Lord,  if  Thou 
wilt,  Thou  canst  make  mb 
cleanl"  !>.!>• 


"BBS-- 


TBH  kABKlTR  UBOI.AM'a  TaiAMRT. 


pflfe  to  ht  grantifal :  %  ^forrt. 


^^EVEKAL  d«fi  wen 

3^9  pilj  by  Beuie  Lee. 
Not  Ik  f«w  timei  ihe  thought 
of  ipeaking  to  her  moUier, 
bat  the  oui  and  helpleti 
hdUb  with  which  the  poor 
face  looked  at  her,  drove  her 
tram  her  purpow  again,  and 
•he  prefemd  Roinf  awaj  to 
tliink  alone.  Then  not  ■  few 
ei  ibe  set  out  on  the 
1  tu  make  inquiriei 
about  the  beautiful  yuuDK 
lady — but  ai  often  her  heart 
miigBve  her,  and  ihe  turned 
back. 

At  laat  khe  could  bear  the 
Hupenae  no  longer,  and, 
taking:  her  baaket  over  her 
arm  one  day,  and  flinging 
berbounMon  ~ 

her  head,  not 
in  I  he  moat 
careful  fa- 
ihlon,  the  ran 
along  tbe  way 
balf  angrily, 
determined 
•be  would  lii- 

feanuomoie, 
bnl  reach  the  Rieat  home 
wher«  tbfl  foatv  ''"d'7, 
'      ravtia  ftopped.    8be  / 


toon  arriTcd  at  Ita  dooi,  and 
breathleisly  ahe  knocked. 
A  lerrant  opened  it,  uftd 
•tared  at  he*  with  lorpriae. 
She  tried  to  ipeak,  bat  coidd 
not ;  and  ao  thera,  with  her 
little  baaket,  and  hea  fice  all 
Buihed,  and  in  miaery  and 
•bvne,  (he  itood  and  bunt 
Into  teara. 

AC  that  moment  a  t>iU 
lady,  dreued  in  moumlDg, 
caioe  down  a  winding  alair, 
and  asked  what  waa  the 
•ound  of  weeping  M  the  door. 
'fliere  BcMJe  Lee  waa— all 
the  reply  thatcould  be  given. 
She  felt  the  lady'a  touch 
aoftly  on  the  abouMct 
aa  alie  aohbed ;  and  then, 
venturing  lo  look  up,  at 
~  length    ihe 

buitt  out  with 


not  ptetty  to 
___  look  at,  cer- 

I  tainly,   in    her   lean    ut& 
bei  Uttered  dreaa,  but  tiwvft    ^ 
wu  Bometluiig  w  tow^Vot 
■21 


TBB  BABRATB  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASDBT. 


in  her  eagerness  that  the  lady 
kindly  took  her  in,  and,  lead- 
ing her  within  a  sweet  little 
summer  parlour,  said,  **  Oh, 
yon  are  the  poor  girl  ahout 
whom  my  Mary  haa  been 
speaking  so  much.  I  am  her 
mother,  my  dear,  and  I  will 
let  you  see  her  presently." 

With  that  she  ranished 
away,  but  in  a  few  seconds 
returned,  saying,  ^Mary  is 
asleep;  but  if  you  would 
like,  you  can  come  and  look 
at  her/' 

Eagerly  Bessie  followed — 
basket,  and  twisted  bonnet, 
and  all— and  was  guided  in- 
to an  airy  room,  full  of 
softened  light,  and  on  a 
couch  in  which  lay,  before 
her  sight,  the  vision  of  her 
dreams.  The  face  was  pure 
as  alabaster — the  long  lashes 
drooping  on  the  cheek,  and 
tlie  golden  curls  straying 
across  the  pillow.  It  was 
the  loveliest  thing  Bessie 
had  ever-  beheld,  that  slum- 
ber of  innocence  and  beauty. 
Down  she  sat  instinctively 
upon  the  floor,  and  clasped 
her  hands,  and  laid  her  bon- 
net and  her  basket  aside, 
that  she  might  sit  there  and 
gaase.  The  elder  lady  said 
nothing,  but,  after  watching 
her  with  a  meaning  smile, 

went  gilently  awMV, 
28 


It  would  be  hard  to  tell 
you  all  Bessie's  thoughts,  as 
there  in  that  strange  spot 
she  sat,  and  the  storm  and 
sunshine  that  chased  each 
other  through  her  half  burst- 
ing heart.  She  wondered  at 
everything  in  that  chamber 
of  peace,  but  most  by  ivt 
she  wondered  at  that  rare 
loveliness  in  its  slumber  on 
the  pillow. 

By  and  by  there  was  a 
murmur — ^to  Bessie's  terror 
the  blue  eyes  opened,  and 
their  gaze  fell  on  her.  They 
did  not  recognise  her  at  first, 
but  gently  the  light  of  a 
smile  shone  in  them — the 
sweet  lips  said,  '*  Oh,  Bessie, 
is  it  you?"  The  white 
hand  was  reached  out,  and 
next  moment,  with  a  wild 
spring,  Bessie  had  it  folded 
into  hers,  pressed  to  her 
hearty  covered  with  her 
kisses,  and  wet  with  her 
tears.  As  she  knelt  in  this 
way,  crying,  "  I  know  your 
name  now — I  am  so  happy 
you  are  better^oh,  let  me 
wait  with  you  and  kiss  you 
for  everl"  in  stepped  the 
elderly  lady  again,  and 
whispered  in  a  smiling  way 
she  would  do  the  patient 
harm.  Whereupon  Bessie 
rose,  but  still  claimed  a 
place  near  t)b&  com^^  vcA 


THB  SABBJkTH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUmT. 


there,  as  she  sat  and  felt  the 
aofb  hand  of  the  inyalid,  not 
Mhamed  to  be  laid  on  her 
nigged  locks,  she  found  a 
tongue  out  of  her  passionate 
heart  at  last  to  tell,  to  mother 
and  daughter,  all  her  little 
miserable  tale.  There  was 
hi  more  talk,  and  question- 
ing, and  answering  on  the 
occasion  than  I  can  report 
to  you.  At  the  end,  how- 
erer,  it  came  to  this,  that 
when  Miss  Ifary  had  several 
times  laughed  from  her  pil- 
low with  a  silvery  ring,  and 
Bessie  had  begun  timidly  to 
laugh  in  turn,  the  elder  lady 
said,  **!  see,  Bessie,  after 
all,  your  sorrow  has  been 
you  are  not  what  is  called 
pretty.  Shouldn't  you  wish 
now  to  have  Mary's  face 
and  Mary's  golden  hair,  as 
you  called  it?" 

**  Oh,  I  would  give  worlds  I" 
cried  Bessie. 

^^  If  you  had  them  to  give, 
that  is  to  say,"  replied  the 
lady.  "  But  now  Mary  will 
tell  you  the  whole  secret  for 
nothing." 

'^The  secret  of  how  to 
be  beautifbl?"  exclaimed 
Bessie. 

''Come  here,  then,"  said 
Mary,    tears    in    her    soft 
eyes.    '*  Too  buve  done  the 
aext  thing  to  Baring  my  life, 


and  I  will  tell  you  this  great 
secret  in  return."  She  laid 
her  finger  on  a  text  of  the 
open  Word  of  Ood  as  she 
spoke ;  and  when  Bessie 
stooped  down  to  read,  these 
words  flashed  upon  her, 
<<  That  Christ  may  dwell  in 
your  heart  by  faith  I " 

**  Not  beauty  of  f)M!e,  dear 
Bessie,"  whispered  Mary,  as 
she  put  an  arm  round  the 
poor  girl's  neck,  ''but  besuty 
of  the  heart.  Set  this  lamp, 
the  living,  holy,  blessed 
Jesus,  there,  and  the  beauty 
of  God  will  soon  flow  upon 
the  face." 

Bessie's  countenance  at 
first  fell,  but  a  warm  kiss 
sealed  the  truth  upon  her 
lips,  and  a  short  prayer,  in 
which  all  joined,  sealed  it 
upon  her  heart.  What  a 
changed  and  humbled  Bessie 
she  now  rose  up— yet  how 
happy  I  You  can  imagine 
all  the  rest  —  her  return 
home — her  flinging  herself 
on  her  mother's  neck  and 
weeping  tears  of  penitence 
— her  betaking  herself  to 
the  study  of  the  great  secret 
she  had  learned— the  beauty 
that  day  by  day  began  to 
take  the  place  of  her  old 
ugliness— her  braided  V^aNt^ 
her  tidy  person,  Yiei  c\«mv 

room— and,  above  a\\*  \\«t 

2^ 


THH  BABBATH  SCHOLAE'S  TRBASUBT. 


bright  smile,  and  the  pioas 
love  with  which  ahe  now 
neyer  almost  left  her 
mother's  side.  Everybody 
in  her  class  and  in  the  town 
wondered  and  said,  **  Never 
any  one  was  so  plain  as 
Bessie  Lee ;  and  yet  we 
can*t  tell  how  she  has  be- 
come quite  beautiful  1" 

One  day  Miss  Mary  Cle- 
ment stood  upon  the  thres- 
hold, come  to  visit  her 
moiher,  Bessie  explained 
the  wonder  by  giving  a 
merry  laugh,  that  kindled 
up  her  whole  face,  and  made 
it  and  the  room  glad  like  a 
burst  of  sunshine,  while  she 


cried,  ''Oh,  Mist  Mary,  I 
am  so  happy  now,  and  my 
mother  is  so  happy.  I  think 
we  have  both  got  your  secret 
quite  by  heart  I " 

So  do  I  hope  my  little 
readers  have.  It  is  the 
secret  in  all  the  world  most 
worth  knowiug.    Here  it  is, 

HOW  TO  BE  BEAUTIFUL. 


tt 


LET  CHBIST  DWBLX.  IN  YOUB 
HEABT  BY  FAITH !  " 


Or  as  two  lines  of  a  hymn 
put  it — 

**  Jmu8  in  he«yen,  Jeiui  in  the 
heart. 
Heaven  in  the  heart,  the  heart 
in  heaven  r* 


/ 


%\t  IBou^qt  ai  t)it  '*i0^:* 


(Continued  from  page  17.) 


AN  UNWELCOME  QUEST. 

^O  instance  is  known 
of  Greenland  bears 
attacking  men,  ex- 
cept when  wounded 
or  provoked ;  they  never 
disturb  the  Esquimaux 
graves,  although  they  sel- 
dom &il  to  rub  a  cache  of 
seal's  flesh,  which  is  a  simi- 
lar construction  of  loose 
stones  above  ground. 

A  native   of  Upemivik, 
one  dark  winter's  day,  was 
out   visiting  h'lB   seal-nets. 
80        ^ 


He  found  a  seal  entangled, 
and,  whilst  kneeling  down 
over  it  upon  the  ice  to  get 
it  clear,  he  received  a  slap 
on  the  back — from  his  com- 
panion, as  be  supposed ;  but 
a  second  and  heavier  blow 
made  him  look  smartly 
round.  He  was  horror- 
stricken  to  see  a  peculiarly 
grim  old  bear  instead  of  his 
comrade  I  Without  deign- 
ing further  notice  of  the 
man,  Bruin  tore  the  seal  out 
of  the  net  and  commenced 
his  supper.    H«  n««a  ikox.  Va- 


Jl  tABBlTH  BOBOLXk'B  tKIAaDBr. 


ir  bow  ia  rtry  Btrongl/ 
foniSed.  well  plated  exter- 
Daily  with  itan,  and  «o  very 
I    tharp  th&t  the   ice   inaBses. 
I    KpaUeiily    hurled    ajjunst 
I    the  ship  by  tbe  iwell  Si  tha 
rose  to  meet  it.  were  Ihui 
robbed  of  their  deslmctive 
force;    they   slrui^k  ua   ob- 
liquely,   yet      caused     the 
retael    to    ehake    violeotly, 
the  betia  to  rinK-  and  almost 
kuocltetl   at   off  our   lega. 
Oa  many  occaaioat  the  eu-  j 


thus 


yesterdays  px peri- 
en  c«!  t  can  understand  Iidw 
men's  hair  liaa  turneil  grey 
in  a  few  houra.  Iiad  aelf- 
lelinnce  been  my  only  sup- 

I  port  and  hope,  it  is  not  ini- 
poisibla  that  I   might  have 

I  illuatrated  ihe  fact.    Under 
the  circumstancei  I  did  laj 
beat   to   insure  our  »a.f«yf,     \ 
looked  aa  atuical  aspoasx^Ve,    ^ 

tad  inwardly  Uvuted  IhM 


TB*  SAflBATR  SOBOLAB'S  TSBASUBT. 


God  would  favour  our  exer- 
tions. What  a  release  ours 
has  been,  not  only  from 
eight  months*  imprisonment, 
but  from  the  perils  of  that 
one  day!  Had  our  little 
vessel  been  destroyed  after 
the  ice  broke  up,  there  re- 
mained no  hope  fur  us.  But 
we  have  been  brought  safely 
through,  and  are  all  truly 
gratetul,  I  hope,  and  believe. 

BAIRBRKADTH  E8GAPB. 

About  two  or  three  years 
ago,  Captain  Deuchars  lost 
his  sMp,  the  Princen 
Chariots,  in  Melville  Bay. 
It  was  a  beautiful  morning ; 
they  had  almost  reached  tbe 
North  Water,  and  were  an- 
ticipating a  very  successful 
voyage;  the  steward  had 
just  reported  breakfast 
ready,  when  Captain  Deu- 
chars, seeing  tlie  floes  clos- 
ing together  ahead  of  the 
ship,  remained  on  deck  to 
see  her  pass  safely  between 
them,  but  they  closed  too 
quickly  ;  the  vessel  was  al- 
mott  through,  when  the 
points  of  ice  caught  her 
sides  abreast  of  the  mizen- 
mast,  and,  passing  through, 
held  the  wreck  up  for  a  few 
minutes,  barely  long  enough 
for  the  crew  to  escape  and 
save  their  boats  I  Poor 
Deuchars  thus  suddenly  lost 
his  breakfast  and  his  ship; 
within  ten  mmiUeg  her  royal 
yards  disappeared  beneath 
the  surface.  How  closely 
danger  besets  the  Arctic 
cruiser,  yet  how  insidiously ; 
ererjrthing  looks  wo  bright, 

82 


so  calm,  so  still,  that  it  re- 
quires positive  experience 
to  convince  one  that  ice  only 
a  very  few  inches,  perhaps 
only  three  or  four  inches, 
a6ot7«  waUfs  perfectly  level, 
and  moving  extremely  s^ow, 
could  possibly  endanger  a 
strong  vessel ! 

A  tUMMRR  TILtiAOR. 

After  toiling  round  the 
base  of  a  precipice,  we  came 
rather  suddenly  in  view  of  a 
small  semicircular  bay ;  the 
cliffs  on  either  side  were  800 
or  900  feet  high,  remarkably 
forbidding  and  desolate ;  the 
mouth  of  a  valley  or  wide 
mountain  gorge  opens  out 
into  its  head.  Here,  in  the 
depth  of  the  hay  upon  a  low 
flat  strip  of  land,  stood  seven 
tents, — the  summer  village 
of  Kaparok-to-1ik  I  never 
saw  a  locality  more  charac- 
teristic of  the  Esquimaux 
than  that  which  they  have 
here  selected  for  their  abode; 
— it  is  wildly  picturesque  in 
the  true  Arctic  application 
of  the  term. 

Although  August  had  ar- 
rived, and  the  summer  had 
been  a  warm  one,  the  bay 
waa  still  firozen  over;  and  if 
there  was  an  ice- covered  Ma 
in  fironty  there  was  also  abun- 
dance of  ice-covered  landm 
the  rear — a  glacier  occupied 
the  whole  valley  behind  and 
to  within  300  yards  of  the 
chosen  spot ! 

The  glacier's  height  ap- 
peared to  be  from  150  to  200 
feet;  its  sea-face  extending 
across  t\ve  "va\\«y^ — «k  v^^i- 


tarn  Mornkvu  toooijui's  TRBismtr. 


biAle  width  of  ^00  or  400 
yardc, — waa  quite  perpen- 
dicuUury  and  fully  100  feet 
high.  Ail  last  winter's 
•how  bad  thawed  awaj  fh>m 
off  h  and  exposed  a  sorfS^e 
of  mild  and  stones,  fissured 
bj  innumerable  email  riTu- 
lets,  which  threw  themselves 
over  the  glacier  cliffs  in 
pretty  cascades,  or  shot  far 
out  in  strong  Jets  from  their 
deeply  serried  chanels  in  its 
face;  whilst  other  stream- 
lets near  the  base  burst  out 
through  sub-glacial  tunnels 
of  their  own  forming. 


What  a  strange  people  to 
confine  themselves  to  such  a 
mere  strip  of  beach  I  Upon 
each  side  they  have  towering 
rocky  hills  rising  so  abruptly 
from  the  sea,  that  to  pass 
along  their  bases  or  ascend 
over  their  summits,  is  equally 
impossible;  whilst  a  thres- 
tenmg  glacier  immediately 
behind,  bears  onward  a  sufll- 
cient  amount  of  rock  and 
earth  from  the  -  mountains 
whence  it  issues,  to  convince 
even  the  unreflecting  savage 
of  its  progressive  motion. 
(To  be  condnued.') 


*"  ^t  «iag  iw$u  in  %  mmih:* 


HEN  Captain 
M'Clintock  and 
his  crew  were 
searching  for  Sir  John 
Franklin,  in  the  far  north, 
where  the  ice  and  snow 
never  disappear,  they  tra- 
velled over  the  ice  for  a 
great  many  miles.  Though 
it  is  such  a  cold  country,  yet 
there  are  people  living  in 
it;  bat  they  are  extremely 
ignorant.  Once,  part  of 
Captain  M'CUntock's  com- 
pany met  with  a  tribe  of 
these  people.  They  were 
poor,  miserable  beings,  liv- 
ing in  wretched  buta,  Mod 
with  msMtve  eaovgb  of  food  I 


to  eat.  When  Captain 
MK^lintock's  men  drew  near 
to  them,  these  poor  people 
were  very  much  surprised; 
their  wonder  knew  no  bounds. 
They  ran  hither  and  thither, 
and  shewed  all  the  signs  of 
astonishment  which  you  can 
well  suppose.  What  was 
the  cause  of  their  wonder  ? 
It  was  this :  these  vrretched 
savages  had  always  thought, 
up  to  that  time,  that  ihof 
were  the  onftf  people  in  the 
world.  Just  fancy  that! 
How  very  much  we  feel 
inclined  to  laugh  at  «\u:^  vgl 
Absurdity  I  K  in\«era)Q\ft 
handful  of  savages  tVi\Ti\xii% 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRSASURT. 


that   they    were    the   only 
people  in  the  world  1 

I  wish  it  were  only  in  the 
far  north,  among  the  ice  and 
snow,  that  this  opinion  were 
to  be  found ;  but,  alas  1  too 
many  among  ourselves  live 
as  if  they  were  the  only 
people  in  the  world.  They 
never  tell  others  about  Jesus. 
They  never  try  to  do  any 


good.  They  never  pray 
for  their  ungodly  neighbours. 
They  give  little  of  their 
money  to  spread  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  in  the  earth. 
Is  this  not  being  like  the 
poor  ignorant  inhabitants  of 
the  far  north,  who  believed 
themselves  the  only  people 
in  the  whole  world  ? 

T.D. 


(glimpses  tti  |«>ia. 

BY  THE  REV.  MR.  SHERIITF  OP  CALCUTTA. 


HINDOO  CHILDREN. 

MAY  premise  that 
the  Hindoo  children 
are  generally  pre- 
possessing in  appearance 
and  manners.  The  slender 
forms,  delicate  features,  and 
dark  lustrous  eyes  excite 
admiration.  As  you  may 
easily  imagine,  there  is  no 
need  of  many  garments  in 
such  a  climate ;  but  the  lack 
of  apparel  is  supplied  by  a 
great  profiision  of  ornaments. 
Forehead,  nose,  eais,  neck, 
arms,  fingers,  ankles,  and 
toes,  are  decked  with  jewels, 
if  the  parents  are  sufficiently 
wealthy.  Nut  unfrequently 
children  are  murdered  for 
the  take  of  the  ornaments 
iAejr  wear. 


STRANG Ifi  FRAR. 

I  must  also  refer  to  the 
absurd  terror  which  ignor- 
ance and  superstition  foster. 
When  a  church  was  built  in 
Scinde,  the  people  in  the 
neighbourhood  were  thrown 
into  great  fear;  they  con* 
sidered  that  a  number  of 
children  must  be  immolated, 
in  order  that  the  lofty  steeple 
might  stand  secure.  A  simi- 
lar panic  prevailed  in  Bom- 
bay, when  the  railway  was 
begun  there.  And  at  present, 
in  Madras,  the  natives  are 
in  great  consternation.  There 
is  a  report  circulating  among 
them  that  Government  re- 
quires 163  children  for  the 
purpose  of  sacrificing  them 
on  tbe  neNr  '^\«t  W\«c^  sui 


■  luun  toBoi.**'*  tMMPmT. 


ifterw«rdB     burying     thdr 
bodlei  under  the  pile*  npoD 


■h  it  li  1< 


hatitb  iCHOOts. 

The  flrrt  itep  in  the  n*i 

to  knowledge  i»  commonly  , 

Itken  In  «  Tern«cul«r  tctiool. 

[   There  tha  young  Hindoo  tc-  ' 

I    qalrei    »onie    loquRinUnce 

■   with  lii«  mother  tongue,— 

I   ilittlelciiowledgeiiiraading, 

I    writing,  and  aceounU.    The 

manner    of    impartlog    in-  ^ 

'    itnction  U  b«d,  all  being 

'   leirned  by  rote.    And  much 

I   of  Ihe  matter  commuted  to 

j   BKniory-the     fbollA     or 

1   wicked   lefiendi  relating  to 

I    Ibelr  porta— ii  fcry  banefol 

;    ud  Tery  poUullng  to  the 

jMOg  mind.    The  dlicipline 

li  defectiTe,  the  pBniihmenW 

aften  terere,  ftnd  not  iddom 

inflicted    with    caprice    or 

pvtialiiy.      One      of     the 

liMteit  want*  of  India  is 

a  body  of   intelligent   and 

&ilhfal  tchoolmatter*.     At 

pment  only  five  peraoni  in 

erery  hundred  receive  any 

edncat'OD.   What  an  amount 

of  intellectual  darknets  does 

Mch  a  tUte  of  allkin  imply  I 

TUB  CBOBS  0»  COBTBRSION. 

The  croii  "hioh  the 
young  Hindoo  hai  to  bear 
when  he  foJIow  Anw  i>, : 


■nd  pwn.    In  public,  mea-      | 
•nreleu  contumely  ia  heaped 
upon  the  natlTe  Chriitian. 
To  ihew  thii,  I  will  )u»t  read 
to  you  an  eitract  from  an 
Indian  journal  which  came 
to  hand  lately.    In  Ahmed- 
nugger,  a  Urge  city  in  the 
Itombay   Freaidency,   there 
are  thirteen  public  welli.   A 
Bralimin,  wUh  hii  wife,  em- 
braced Chrialianity,  and  Ihe 
naliTe*  immediately  soufiht 
I  to  debar  them  from  all  ac- 
ceM    to    Iheie    welU.      To 
effect  thla,  they  sent  a  peti-     I 
tion  to  the  migiitrata.    In 
reply   to  thia  petition,  Mr. 
Tytler    laid,     "  Pelitlonera 
'  seek  to  debiir  Viihnu  Punt 
!  and  lii»  family  from  the  u»e 
of  the  public  tanka,  •oiely 
'  becaute  he  ii  a  Chriiltan. 
I  But  it  ii  well  known  that  if  a 
I  Mhar  or  Mang  (the  low«t 
\  caate*)    woman    marriet    a 
MuMUlman,  ihe  ii  allowed 
to  nie  the  unka  in  right  of 
her  baring  become  a  Mo- 
hammedan.   Cattle,  horaea, 
donkeys,    proatitutei,    4c., 
bMTe  all  acceat  to  Ihe  public 
taoka ;  and  ;et  this  common 
I  .ndobTiona  right  petitiouera 
aeek  to   deny   to  the   man 
\  whoee    high    Teapectability 
,  they  themaeWe*  dwe   iwA 
'  and  cannot  gainuy." 
(7b  6e  conttnueil.') 


THE  SABBATH  BOBOLA&'s  TBBAtUBT. 


)H£RE  is  a  mighty  river, 

Rolling  through  every  land, 
Its  swift  waves  hastening  ever 
To  an  unknown  distant  strand ; 
And  ships  of  gallant  bearing 

Are  floating  on  its  tide, 
And  humble  crafts  are  faring 

Upon  its  waters  wide ; 
And  some  with  speed  are  burning, 

Some  wearing  on  in  dreams, 
But  IVe  marked  there^s  no  returning 
Against  those  sullen  streams. 

Here  its  fair  banks  are  glistening 

With  summer*s  gayest  flowers, 
And  there  its  waves  are  hastening 

Through  clouds  an^  wintry  showers : 
A  hum  and  busy  bustling 

Are  heard  upon  its  shores^ 
Like  leaves  of  summer  rustling 

Are  the  throng  of  flashing  oars ; 
And  crowds  are  disappearing 

As  the  leaves  last  autumn  fell, 
And  all  their  port  are  nearing, — 

But  the  rest  X  cannot  telL 

Knowest  thou  this  mighty  river 

Bushing  through  every  clime, 
Its  swift  waves  ceasing  never  ? — 

It  is  the  stream  of  Time. 
On  its  tide  we  all  are  going 

Through  sunshine  and  through  night, 
And  its  waters  are  coldly  flowing 

In  silence  while  I  write; 
And  as  earth^s  livers  downward  ~ 

Are  hastening  to  the  sea, 
So  Time  is  speeding  onward 
ZJDto  Eternity.  "V.K»T 


se 


gotiis  from  tft  fife  of  6i)oir  gisltrj  Milsoii. 

in^  down  it,  the  Biihop  m>e 
TAsma  poaaBBBios.  upon   the  deck,  and,  look- 

pM^UGE     buata,     bulll    iiig    towards    the    tcrritory 
^^A   upon     the     Indus,     of  itie  Punjab,  then  bcarcely 
I^S   were  in  readiness:  .  known,  ejulaimed  &\oaA,—      \ 
"•**    and  the Blrearo  bore  ^  "I  take   posaeBsion   of  v\«» 
jeoKloirn&rrrni/lesrith-  :  laad  in  the  name  of  my  LqiA 
tea  bourn.     Whiiac  glid-  ;  and   Master,  Jesua  C\irvBl,." 

^^ ai 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAE's  TRKASUET. 


It  seemed  little  likely  at  the 
time  that  we  should  have  any 
inheritance  to  put  our  foot 
on.  But  this  incident  is 
surely  rery  remarkable, 
when  connected  with  our 
speedy  posset^sion  of  the 
whole  territory,  the  favour 
able  prospects  of  our  mis- 
sions there,  and  the  help 
and  deliverance  Cliristian 
England  drew  from  thence 
in  her  extreme  necessity.  It 
seems  to  shew  how  faith  has 
power  with  God,  and  still 
prevails. 

THE  LITTLE  BLACK  FIGURE. 

A  flourishing  Temperance 
Society  existed  at  Kurnaul, 
patronised  and  chiefly  sup- 
ported by  one  excellent  offl- 
cer  whose  history  was  singu- 
lar. Originally  gay  and 
worldly,  to  say  no  worse,  his 
change  of  mind,  and  conver- 
sion to  God,  were  very  mark  - 
ed.  He  was  in  company 
when  reckless  gambling  was 
going  on,  and  on  a  very  large 
stake  being  proposed,  one  of 
the  players  took  from  his 
bosom  a  small  hideous  black 
figure,  intended  to  repre- 
sent the  devil.  He  ad- 
dressed himself  to  it ;  called 
it  his  best  and  only  fViend ; 
coaxed,  pleaded,  threatened, 
and  prayed  for  success,  in 
terms  of  fearful  blasphemy. 
The  captain  was  horror- 
struck.  He  left  the  com- 
pany at  once,  and  that  night 
found  him  prostrate  in  tear« 
of  penitence  before  God. 
^or  did  he  join  the  world 

S8 


again  till  his  prayers  were 
heard,  his  eyes  opened,  and 
his  soul  had  found  peace. 
He  was  now  a  believer  in 
Christ,  and  ready  to  every 
good  word  and  work. 

THE  BM SD  ELEPHANT. 

Tell  my  grandchildren 
that  an  elephant  here  had  a 
disease  in  his  eyes.  For 
three  days  he  had  been  com- 
pletely blind.  His  owner, 
an  engineer  officer,  asked  my 
dear  Doctor  Webb  if  he  could 
do  any  tiling  to  relieve  the 
poor  animal.  The  doctor 
said  he  would  try  nitrate  of 
silver,  which  was  a  remedy 
commonly  applied  to  similar 
diseases  in  the  human  eye. 
The  huge  animal  was  ordered 
to  lie  down  ;  and  at  first,  on 
the  application  of  the  reme- 
dy, raised  a  most  extraordin- 
ary roar  at  the  acute  |NUii 
which  it  occasioned.  The 
efi^eot.  however,  was  wonder- 
tuX,  The  eye  was,  in  a  man- 
ner, restored,  and  the  animal 
could  partially  see.  The 
next  day,  when  he  was 
brought,  and  heard  the  doc- 
tor's voice,  he  laid  down  of 
himself,  placed  his  enormous 
head  on  one  side,  curled  up 
his  trunk,  drew  in  hfs 
breath  just  like  a  man  about 
to  endure  an  operation,  gave 
a  sigh  of  relief  when  it  wae 
over,  and  then,  by  trunk 
and  gestures,  evidently  will- 
ed to  express  his  gratitude. 
^  What  sagacity  t  What  a  les- 
\  son  to  ua  ol  '^vAXkiv^zj^X 


THH  ftABBA.TS  MBOLAB't  TBBAtintT. 


featlf  in  a  ftfilftfemis^. 


/ 


BOUT  the  year  1800, 
the  watch  waa  kept 
by  two  keepers ; 
and,  for  four 
iDonths,  the  weather  shut 
tbem  off  from  all  cocnmunU 
cation  with  the  land.  The 
method  of  talkingr  by  signals 
was  not  developed  anywhere 
into  the  complete  system  it 
has  now  become,  and  does 
not  appear  to  have  been  in 
use  at  all  among  the  light- 
house people;  but,  in  the 
course  of  a  week  or  two 
after  the  stonn  had  set  in, 
it  was  rumoured  at  several 
of  the  western  ports  that 
something  was  wrong  at  the 
Smalls.  Passing  vessels  re- 
ported that  a  signal  of  dis> 
tress  was  out ;  but  that  was 
all  they  knew.  Many  at- 
tempts lo  approach  the  reek 
were  made,  but  fruitlessly} 
the  boats  could  not  get  near 
enough  to  hail  (  ihey  could 
only  return  lo  inake  the  be- 
wildered ageiit  and  the 
anxkHia  relatives  of  the 
keepera  more  bewildered 
and  more  anxious,  by  the 
statement  that  there  was 
always  what  seemed  to  be 
the  dim  figure  of  a  man  in 
one  comer  of  the  outside 
gallery ;  but  whether  he 
^poke  or  moved,  or  not,  tliey 
could  not  telU  Night  after 
sight,  the  light  was  watched 
for,  with  great  taiggiviug 
whether  it  would  ever  ghew 
again.    But  the  light  Mled 


not.  Punctually,  as  the  sun 
set,  it  seemed  to  leave  a 
ftugment  of  its  fire  gleamins 
in  the  lantern  glasses,  which 
burnt  there  till  it  rose  again, 
shewing  this  mnch  at  least, 
that  some  one  was  alive  at 
the  Smalls ;  but  whether 
both  the  men,  or  which,  no 
anxious  mother  or  loving 
wilt*  could  tell.  Four  months 
of  this,  and  then,  in  calmer 
wea  her,  a  Milford  boat 
brought  into  the  agency  at 
Solva  one  lightkteper  and 
one  dead  man.  What  tlie 
living  man  had  suflfered  can 
never  now  be  known. 
Whether,  when  first  he 
came  distinctly  to  believe 
his  comrade  would  die,  he 
stood  in  blank  despair,  or 
whether  he  implored  him  on 
his  knees,  in  an  agony  of 
selfish  terror,  to  live ; 
whether,  when,  perhaps  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  he 
stood  faoe  to  face,  and  so 
very  close,  to  death,  he 
thought  of  immediate  burial, 
or  whether  he  rushed  at 
once  to  the  gallery  to  shout 
out  to  the  nearest  sail,  per* 
haps  a  mile  away ;  at  what 
exact  n^oment  it  was  that 
the  thought  flashed  across 
him  that  lie  muet  not  bury 
the  body  hi  the  sea,  lest 
those  on  shore  should  ques- 
tion him  as  Ciun  wa«  (\\i«»- 
tiooed  for  his  brothet,  iucA 
he,  failing  to  produce  YiVni^ 
Aliouid     be    branded    ^VOe^ 


TBB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBASUST. 


Cain's  curse  and  meet  a 
speedier  fate,  is  unrecorded. 
What  he  did  was  to  make  a 
cofSn.  He  had  been  a 
cooper  by  trade,  and,  by 
breaking  up  a  bulk-head  in 
the  living-room,  he  got  the 
dead  man  covered  in  ;  then, 
with  infinite  labour,  he  took 
him  to  the  gallery  and  lashed 
him  there.  Perhaps,  with 
an  instinctive  wisdom,  he 
set  himself  to  work,  cleaned 
and  re-deaned  his  lamps, 
unpacked  and  packed  his 
stores.  Perhaps  he  made  a 
point  of  walking  resolutely 
up  to  the  coffin  three  or  four 
times  a  day,  perhaps  he 
never  went  near  it,  and  even 
managed    to    look    over    it 


rather  than  at  it,  when  he 
was  scanning  the  whole 
horizon  for  a  sail.  In  his 
desperation,  it  may  have  oc- 
curred to  him  that,  as  his 
light  was  a  warning  to  keep 
vessels  off,  so  its  absence 
would  speedily  betray  some 
ship  to  a  dangerous  vicinity 
to  his  forlornness,  whose 
crew  would  be  companions 
to  him,  even  though  he  had 
caused  them  to  be  wrecked. 
But  this  he  did  not  do.  No 
lives  were  risked  to  alleviate 
his  desolation ;  but  when  he 
came  on  shore  with  his  dead 
companion,  he  was  a  sad,  re- 
served, emaciated  man,  so 
strangely  worn,  that  his  as- 
sociates did  not  know  him. . 


®fe<  'gnmt  CtfbbUr. 


ury 


{N  one  of  the  seaport 
towns  of  England, 
among  the  lofty 
buildings  that  lux- 
and  refinement  had 
reared,  there  stood  a  low 
shed- like  dwelling,  whose 
tottering  wooden  walls 
sheltered  two  beings,  poor  as 
the  estimate  of  the  world 
goes,  but  richer  far  than 
many  of  their  neighbours  ; 
inasmuch  as  their  wealth 
consisted  not  in  the  perish- 
ing things  of  earth,  but  in 
that  which  gave  them  a  title 
to  treasures  incorruptible, 
and  M  crown  of  glory  that 
Adetb  not  aw&y. 
To  those  who  were  un- 
40 


acquainted  with  this  source 
of  true  enjoyment,  their  lot 
in  life  seemed  to  be  one  of 
uncommon  misery.  Poor, 
old,  and  feeble,  the  mother 
toiled  hard  for  her  daily 
bread ;  and  a  sad  accident 
had  made  her  son  a  cripple, 
just  when  his  aid  would  have 
been  most  efficent  in  her  de- 
clining years.  So  far  as  hu- 
man wisdom  could  foresee, 
things  looked  dark  and  dis- 
mal enough  :  but  there  was 
a  sunbeam  in  that  cottage,  a 
life  and  energy  in  the  crush- 
ed and  maimed  form  of  the 
afflicted  youth,  that  seemed 
to  haW  \\\  iVve  ivn\  ^\%\AXkR^  %. 
UghX  aV\ea^. 


THB  SABBATH  fiOHOLAR  t  TBBASURT. 


/ 


**  Do  yon  think  I  shall  he 
lame  always,  mother  ?" 

*'So  the  doctor  says, 
Johnoy,**  replied  the  woman, 
in  a  desponding  tone ;  ad- 
ding, in  a  sciU  lower  one, 
**  My  poor  Johnny  I  my  poor 
Uttle  lad  1" 

**Do  not  take  on  ahout 
Die,  mother  ;  and  above  ail, 
do  not  think  that  everything 
is  lost,  because  my  limbs  are 
crippled  and  deformed." 

**  fiat  I  must,  Johnny. 
How  are  we  to  get  along 
now,  when  you  are  not  able 
to  stand  on  your  feet ;  still 
less  to  go  out  and  seek  for 
work  as  you  used  to? 
Mother  must  soon  leave  you, 
lad;  and  then  nothing  but 
the  workhouse  for  my  poor 
boy." 

^  No,  mother ;  not  while 
I  have  my  two  hands,"  said 
John,  wiih  a  look  of  deter- 
mind  energy ;  *Mf  1  cannot 
walk,  I  can  sit  and  work, 
you  see." 

He  held  up  tahis  mother, 
as  he  spoke,  a  pair  of  well 
mended  shoes,  which  he  had 
contrived  to  sew  at  in  odd 
times  when  she  was  busy 
with  her  household  affairs 


or  absent  from  the  dwelling. 
She  looked  surprised  and 
pleased ;  as  he  had  hoped 
she  would  be. 

"There,  it  wasn't  for 
nothing  that  I  used  to  spend 
so  much  time  with  old  Giles, 
the  cobbler.  1  have  stolen 
the  trade,  it  seems.  But  the 
poor  old  man  is  past  work 
now,  and  won't  grudge  me  a 
share  of  the  custom.  So  we 
shan't  go  to  starving  yet, 
mother ;  shall  we  ?" 

**  Oh,  Job  nny, '  said  the  poor 
woman,  while  tears  of  grati- 
tude rained  down  her  p^le 
cheeks,  **  how  wicked  1  was 
to  distrust  that  God,  who 
has  always  been  so  good  and 
mindful  of  us  both  1  Do  we 
not  read  in  His  own  blessed 
Word  about  *  casting  our 
care  upon  Him  ;  for  He 
careth  lor  us  ?*  And  when 
times  are  darkest,  His  pro- 
mises shine  ever  the  bright- 
est." 

Johnny  Pound  afterwards 
became  a  useful  mnn,  not 
only  supporting  himself^  but 
rescuing  from  ignorance, 
and  poverty,  and  vice,  many 
neglected  and  destitute  chil- 
dren. 


(^Continued  Jrom  page  33.) 


BLBDOK  TRATKLLTNO. 

E    travelled    each 
day  until  duBk, 
and   then    were 
occapied   for   a 


couple  of  hours  in  building 
our  snow-hut.  The  fouT'w«\\% 
were  run  up  uulW  ^\  iwXi 
high,  inclining  \n"waTd»  ai% 
mach  as  possible  ;  over  lYveve 

4\ 


TBB  8ABBATB  SOHOIiAR'S  TBXASURT. 


our  tent  was  laid  to  form  a 
roof;  we  could  not  afford 
the  time  neoessary  to  con- 
struct a  dome  of  snow. 

Our  equipment  consisted 
of  a  very  small  brown-liol- 
land  tent,  macintosh  floor- 
doth,  and  felt  robes;  besides 
this,  each  man  had  a  bag  of 
double  blanketing,  and  a 
pair  of  fur  boots,  to  sleep  in. 
We  wore  mocassins  orer  the 
pieces  of  blanket  in  which 
our  feet  were  wrapped  up. 
and,  with  Uie  exception  of 
a  change  of  this  ibot-gear, 
carried  no  spare  clothes. 
The  daily  routine  was  as 
follows:  I  led  the  way; 
Petersen  and  Thompson 
followed,  conducting  their 
sledges ;  and  in  this  manner 
we  trudged  on  for  eight  or 
ten  hours  without  halting, 
except  when  necessary  to 
disentangle  the  dog-harness. 
When  we  halted  for  the 
night,  Thompson  and  I  usu- 
ally sawed  out  the  blodcs  of 
compact  snow  and  carried 
them  to  Petersen,  who  acted 
as  the  master  mason  in 
building  the  snow  hut :  the 
hour  and  a  half  or  two  hours 
usually  employed  in  erecting 
the  edifice  was  the  most  dis- 
Rgreeable  part  of  the  day's 
labour,  for,  in  addition  to 
being  already  well  Ured  and 
desiring  repose,  we  became 
thoroughly  chilled  whilst 
standing  about.  When  the 
hut  was  finished,  the  dogs 
were  fed,  and  here  the  great 
dificulty  was  to  insure  the 
weaker  ones  their  full  shore 
4S 


\ 


m  the  scramble  for  supper ; 
then  commenced  the  opera- 
tion of  unpacking  the  sledge, 
and  carrying  into  our  hut 
everything  necessary  for 
ourselTes,  such  as  proyiskm 
and  sleeping  gear,  as  well 
as  all  boots,  fur  mittens, 
and  even  the  sledge  dog- 
harness,  to  prevent  the  dogs 
fh>m  eating  them  during  our 
sleeping  ^urs.  The  door 
was  now  blocked  up  with 
snow,  the  cooking- lamp 
liglited,  foot-gear  changed, 
diary  written  up,  watches 
wound,  sleeping  bags  wrig- 
gled into,  pipes  lighted,  and 
the  merits  of  the  various 
dogs  discussed,  until  supper 
was  ready;  the  supper 
swallowed,  the  upper  rc^ 
or  coverlet  was  pulled  over, 
and  then  to  sleep. 

Next  morning  came  break* 
fast,  a  struggle  to  get  into 
froren  mocassins,  after 
which  the  sledges  were 
packed,  and  another  day's 
march  commenced. 

In  these  little  huts  we 
usually  slept  \rarm  enough, 
although  laitterly,  when  our 
blankets  and  clothes  became 
loaded  with  ice,  we  felt  the 
cold  severely.  When  our 
low  doorway  was  carefully 
blocked  up  with  snow,  and 
the  cooking-lamp  alight,  the 
temperature  quickly  rose  so 
that  the  walls  became 
glazed,  and  our  bedding 
thawed;  but  the  cooking 
over,  or  the  doorway  par- 
liaWy  oveiie^>  i\i  «a  ^v^lekly 
fell  agavI^  ao  it2i[\AX  \\  ^«k 


n»  SAHUkTH  ■OHOLAS'l  TBBA0UBT. 


impomiblc  to  rievpi,  or  cfven 
to  bold  one's  paiimkin  of 
tea,  withoot  puttiiig  oar 
■nts  on,  BO  intense  was  the 
esldl 

TRB  8KBLBTOM  Oil  THB 
BBAOH. 

At  last  the  great  dIsooTery 
wss  at  hand.  There  was  no 
deabt  that  somewhere,  not 
fiur  ftom  the  wild  region  in 
which  the  sledges  were  thus 
careering,  Sir  John  Frank- 
lhi*s  ships  had  been  aban- 
doned by  ttieir  crews  more 
than  ten  years  before.  One 
litlk  scrap  of  paper  fonnd 
in  a  calm  of  stones  told  this 
tale,  and  that  in  June  1847 
Sir  John  himself  had  died. 
The  fkto  of  the  famished 
crews,  roaming  with  their 
fiiees  homeward,  was,  alas, 
but  too  certain.  Tokens 
soon  were  giren  that  they 
most  all  hare  perished  by 
the  way.  Captain  M^Clin- 
ttick*s  story  goes  on  thns  :^ 

We  were  now  upon  the 
shore  along  which  the  re* 
treating  crews  must  ha?e 
marehed.  My  sledges,  of 
coarse,  trarelled  upon  the 
sea-ice  close  along  the  shore ; 
and,  althobgh  the  dejnh  of 
snow  which  cohered  the 
beadi  deprived  as  of  almost 
every  hope,  yet  we  kept  a 
yerjr  sbmrp  Jook^cut  for 
tneei^  nor  were  we  n/isiic-  ' 


oessftil.  Shortly  after  mid- 
night of  the  35th  May,  when 
slowly  walking  aUmg  a 
gravel  ridge  near  the  &»ich, 
which  the  winds  kept  par- 
tially bare  of  snow,  1  came 
upon  a  human  skeleton, 
partly  exposed,  with  here 
and  there  a  few  fragments 
of  clothing  appearing 
through  the  snow.  The 
skeleton  —  now  perfli?ctly 
bleached — was  lying  upon 
its  face,  the  limbs  and  small- 
er bones  either  dissevered 
or  gnawed  away  by  small 
animals. 

A  most  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  spot  was  of  course 
made,  the  snow  removed, 
and  every  scrap  of  clothing 
gathered  up.  A  pocket-book 
afforded  strong  grounds  for 
hope  that  some  information 
might  be  subsequently  ob- 
tained respecting  the  unfor- 
tunate owner  and  the  cala- 
mitous mareh  of  the  lost 
crews,  but  at  the  time  it 
was  frozen  hard.  The  sub- 
stance of  that  which  we 
gleaned  upon  the  spot  may 
thus  be  summed  up : — 

The  victim  was  a  young 
man,  slightly  built,  and  per- 
haps above  the  common 
height;  the  dress  appeared 
to  be  that  of  a  steward  or 
officer*8  servant,  the  loose 
bow-knot  in  which  his  neck- 
handkerohief  was  tied  not 
being  used  by  seamen  or 
ofBcers.  In  every  pan\c^\vc 
the  dress  confirmed  owx  coiiv* 
jVctures  as  to  \\\a  Ta\V\L  ot 
office  in  the  late  exped\X\ou« 

4^ 


■  BABkATB  aOHOUKI 


—  tlM  Um  jacket  with 
iluhed  ileeTei  and  brnided 
edging,  and  the  pitnt  cloth 
great- cost  with  plain  rorered 
bnttont.  We  fnund,  alio,  a 
clothes-brush  near,  and  a 
hnm pocket-comh.  Thispoor 
man  aeems  to  have  selected 
the  bare  ridm  top.  as  afTord- 
ing  the  least  tiresnme  walk- 
infc,  and  to  have  fallen  npon 
hit  &ce  in  the  position  in 
which  we  found  him. 

It  w««  a  meUncholr  inith 
thit  the  old  womsD  spoke 
when  she  said.  "They  lell 
down  and  died  oa  they 
walked  along." 


There  was  that  in  the 
bout  which  transfixed  ns 
with  awe.  It  was  portions 
of  two  human  skeletons. 
One  was  that  of  a  Blight 
joung  person ;  the  other 
of  a  large,  slrongly-made, 
middle-aged  man.  The  fdT- 
nier  was  found  in  the  bow 
of  the  boil,  but  in  too  much 
distnrbed  a  state  to  enahle 
Hobson  to  judge  whether  the 
suSWrer  had  died  there;  large 
anri  powerful  animals,  pro- 
bably wolves,  had  destroyed 
mach  of  ihis  skeleton,  which 
may  have  been  that  of  an 
officer.  Near  it  we  fbund 
the  fragment  of  a  pair  of 
worked  slippers.  The  linei 
were  white,  with  a  black 
margin ;  the  spaces  white. 
red,  and  yellow.  Thej 
Jjad  originally  been  1 1 
lachft  long,  lined  with  calf- 
tUn  wttb  Che  hair  left  on, 
44 


and  the  ed|ies  bonnd  with 
red  silk  ribbon.  Beside* 
these  slippers  there  weie  ■ 
pair  iif  small  strong  shooting 
half-boots.  The  other  ikvl»< 
ton  was  in  a  somewhat  more 
perfect  state.*  and  was  en- 
veloped with  clothes  and 
furs;  it  lay  across  the  boat, 
under  the  after- thwart.  Close 
beside  it  were  fnund  live 
watchen ;  and  there  were 
two  double-barrelled  gun*— 
one  barrel  in  each  loaded  and 
cocked — standing  muzzleup- 
wards  against  the  boat's 
side.  It  may  tie  imagined 
with  what  deep  interest 
these  sad  relics  were  scruti- 
nised, and  how  anxiously 
every  frafcment  ol  clothins 
wai  tnmed  over  in  search  of 
pockets  and  pocket-books. 
jonmala,  or  even  names. 
Five  or  six  small  books  were 
f.>und.  all  of  them  scriptural 
or  devotional  works,  except 
the  '■  Vicar  of  Wakefleld." 
One  little  book,  "Christian 
Melodies."  bore  an  imcrip- 
tion  upon  the  tiile-page  from 
the  donor  to  G.  G.  (liraham 
Gore?)  A  small  Bible  con- 
tained numerous  marginal 
notes,  and  whole  pasaafies 
underlined.  Besides  theae 
books,  the  cover*  of  a  Mew 
Testament  and  Prayer-book 
were  found. 


home,  their  pnyer  mntt  i  gtuge  it  tpoken,  to  \ong  will 
hiTe  been  that  tbeir  otran-  I  be  renKinbered  and  lelattd 
DTmen  mifcht  learn  how  |  the  ploriaiiH  fate  ot  the  CTBin 
BObl;  the^accompliabedthe  |  of  the  Errbia  »nd  Ttrrnr, 
tuk  thej  had  TolDDtaritjr  :  and  how  nohl;  ihej  died  in 
undertaken.  That  prajrer  [  the  executinn  if  their  dutj 
I  hu  been  granted,  Aa  lonK  I  to  their  Queen  and  their 
M  Britain  eiiitt,  or  our  Ian-    conntry. —  CMtom. 


upon  the  lap  of  the  friend 
tliat  took  a  mother's  care  of 
her.  and,  winding  one  vngted 
arm  alwnt  her  neck,  wnnl'l 
say,   "Now,  tell   me  about 


SHE  following  tonch- 
ing  incident  is  to" 
of  a  child  who  1o 
her  mother  at  i 
I    •getooearly  tuflx  thelovi 
leatnies  in  her  remembrance. 
She  was  frsil  hb  beauti- 
I    ftal:  and  at.  the  bad  of  her  |  peated, 

heart  unfolded,  it  seemevl,  < 
I  M  if  won  ty  that  molher'e  ,' 
/   prmjera,  to  tura  inttlBctively  j  The  request  yttk   ne^er  "w     ^ 

6e»renward.     She  would  lia  ,  fii««i,  uai  tha  iiBeiA\ao«»» 
4& 


oft  told   tale   had  been   re- 
■    softly    »«y, 


TBB  SABBATH  B0BOLAR*S  TRBASURT. 


child  would  lie  for  houra, 
contentedly  gazing  upon  her 
mother**  portrait. 

**  But  pale  and  wan  the  grew,  and 

weakly. 
Bearing  all  her  pains  so  meekly, 
That  to  them  the   rill  grew 

dearer, 
At  the  trial  hour  drew  nearer." 

That  hour  came  at  last,  and 
the  creeping  neighbours  as- 
sembled to  see  the  little  one 
die.  The  dew  of  death  was 
already  on  the  flower  as  its 
life-sun  was  going  down. 
The  little  chest  heaved 
faintly,  spasmodically.  '*Do 


you  know  me,  darling?" 
sobbed  close  in  her  ear  the 
Toice  that  was  dearest ;  but 
it  awoke  no  answer.  All  at 
once,  a  brightness,  as  if  from 
the  upper  world,  burst  over 
the  child's  colourless  coun- 
tenance. The  eyelids  flashed 
open ;  the  lips  parted ;  the 
wan  cuddling  hands  flew  up 
in  the  little  one's  last  im- 
pulsive effort,  as  she  looked 
peeringly  into  the  far  above. 
**  Mother  I"  she  cried,  with 
surprise  and  transport  in  her 
tone,  and  passed  with  that 
breath  into  her  mother's 
bosom.  — Landeh, 


BT  THE  BEY.  MR.  SHERIFF  OF  GALCITTA. 
(^Continuedjirom page  35.) 


dess. 


GODS  AND  GODDBSSKt. 

DLMOST  every  loca- 
lity has  some  pre- 
siding god  or  god- 
Nor  does  it  matter 
much  to  the  Hindoo  whom 
he  may  thus  deify.  In  the 
south  of  India  an  English 
officer  has  been  made  a 
village  deity,  cheroots  being 
among  the  offerings  made  at 
his  tomb.  Nay,  a  mission- 
ary's young  wife,  who  fell  a 
victim  to  cholera,  has  had 
the  strange  fate  to  have 
ffowen  offered  in  worship  at 
berlow  and  lonelj  grave. 


\ 


BINOOO  MOTHERS. 

There  is  another  class  in 
India,  whose  claims  on  our 
Christian  sympathies  cannot 
be  entirely  neglected,  —  I 
mean  the  women  of  India. 
From  the  commencement  of 
their  existence  these  are  un- 
fortunate. There  is  no  Joy 
over  the  birth  of  a  girl 
Female  infanticide  was  once 
extremely  prevalent.  From 
the  annual  reports  of  the 
deaths  in  Bombay,  it  appears 
that  more  girls  than  boys  die 
of  amalVv^T.^  ^i)cv«  ^t«ikU 
being  unw  WWn^^x^^cMkN^  V^oeisi 


THB  8ABBATB  SOHOLAR's  TKBASURT. 


/ 


TiocinatecL  Hindooism  con* 
demni  women  to  a  state  of 
toUl  ignorance,  and  the  rea* 
am  aMigned  addi  insult  to 
injostioe :  It  is  maintained 
thai;  woman  is  so  etsentiallj 
eril,  that  education  would 
only  afford  her  more  ability 
to  work  mitchief.  Married 
when  children,  they  are  de- 
btrred  from  ail  choice  in 
regard  to  the  person  to  whom 
they  are  consigned  for  life. 
Tlwy  must  not  eat  with 
their  lords-— dare  not  pro- 
Doanoe  e^en  their  names. 
They  possess  no  means  of 
employing  time  pleasantly 
and  profitably, — no  books, 
no  ornamental  work,  no  be- 
nevolent labours.  What  a 
dull,  weary,  aimless  life  must 
they  lead !  And  what  pre- 
paration for  eternity  I 

As  a  natural  consequence 
of  their  ignorance,  the  Hin- 
doo women  are  more  super- 
stitious than  the  men.  They 
are  strongly  attached  to  the 
worst  rites  and  .ceremonies 
of  heathenism,  feasts,  pro- 
cessions, pilgrimages,  &o. 
They  are  also  fearfully  pas- 
sionate in  temper.  Demo- 
niacal possession  is  held  to 
be  common  among  them. 
Suicide  is  also  deplorably 
frequent  Jn  MadraB,  in 
1856,  there  were  62i  women 


who  thus  rushed  into  the 
presence  of  Qoi,  and  only 
887  men*  Lately  I  saw 
mention  of  a  case  wherein  a 
mother  wss  condemned  for 
the  number  of  her  children, 
her  motive  being  to  spite  her 
husband,  with  whom  she  had 
quarreled. 

NBED  or  CBPHAMIGES. 

Orphanages  are  greatly 
needed.  The  people  are  gen- 
erally poor ;  often  in  a  state 
of  entire  destitution.  Th^re 
is  no  poor-law  in  India,  no 
provision  for  tlie  support  of 
those  who  are  unable  to  ob 
tain  a  livelihood.  Famines, 
or  at  least  seasons  of  scarcity, 
are  not  unfrequent;  and 
parents  are  often  unable  to 
maintain  their  children. 
Pestilence  often  sweeps  away 
the  people,  and  many  or- 
phans are  left  in  its  terrible 
path.  Surely  the  blessing 
of  the  God  of  the  fatherless 
must  rest  on  such  institu- 
tions as  these. 

BEALCOTB. 

*The  blood  of  the  martyrs  it 
the  seed  of  th«  Churcta." 

Sealcote  is  a  name  hallow- 
ed to  all  who  revere  true 
piety  and  devoted  mission- 
ary zeal.    EspeciaWy  u  Vx 
dear  to  our  Church.    'W^ 

hare  taken  poaaemotv  ol  \t 

47 


THB  BABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUBT. 


by  the  dust  of  our  martyred 
dead  which  rests  there.  To 
the  memory  of  those  dearly 
beloved  and  deeply  lamented 
servants  of  Jesus  tlie  most 
fitting  monument  is  about 
to  be  erected — a  church. 
Two  missionaries  of  our 
Church — the  Key.  Messrs. 
Patterson  and  Taylor— arid 
now  on  their  way  to  resume 
the  evangelistic  labours  so 
hopefully  commenced  there 
May  they  be  abundantly 
blessed  in  their  work,  and 
be  the  honoured  instruments 
of  turning  many  from  dark- 
ness to  light  1 
An  orphanage  in  Sealcote, 


in  connexion  with  the  Scot- 
tish Mission,  is  eminently 
fitted  to  arrest  the  attention 
of  the  natives,  and  to  pro- 
claim the  contrast  between 
Christianity  and  Hindooism 
or  Mohammedanism.  In 
that  place  Moslem  and  hea- 
then lust  of  blood  was  shewn 
by  the  ruthless  murder  of 
the  Christian  infant;  and 
there  Christian  love  is  made 
manifest  by  the  erection  of  a 
home  for  the  friendless  chil- 
dren of  heathens  and  Mus- 
sulmans. Surely  this  is  in 
accordance  with  the  Divine 
injunction  to  overcome  evil 
with  good. 


%n  %yoitU'i 


48 


pgmn. 

'HEN  I  survey  the  wondrous  Cross, 
On  which  the  Prince  of  Glory  died, 
My  richest  gain  I  count  but  losd, 
And  poor  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 

Forbid  it,  Lord,  that  I  should  boast, 
Save  in  the  death  of  Christ  my  God ; 

All  the  vain  things  which  charm  me  most 
I  sacrifice  them  to  His  blood. 

See  from  His  head.  His  hands.  His  feet, 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down ; 

Did  e*er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  ? 

Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine, 
That  were  an  offiering  far  too  small ; 
Love  80  amazing,  so  divine. 
Demands  my  soul,  my  life,  my  aVl\ 


TBB  UABBATU  ■OBOULK's  TCBAtUBT* 


fates  0f  %  ^injtJr  3«t  Islanbs. 


mm  OOKAII  OBVB. 

r£SE  idandt  may 
wdl  be  called  such. 
Thej  itnd  the 
Afi  the  South  Pacific 
1^  each  like  a  fiury 
1^  A  belt  of  coral 
laterally  rnoa  round 
iafend  at  the  distance 
wl  a  mile  from  •here, 
fiinat  thii  belt  the 
of  the  Pacific  come 
fin,  often  to  the  height 
■7  feet.  Within  the 
ig  reef  there  are 
h  and  lovely  baains. 
da  ia  under  a  sky  very 
Iwtter  than  ours,  but 
i  vorld  of  waters  the 
m  blow  with  refreshing 
is.  Up  into  the  dear 
e  great  mountains,  as 
ny  island  creats,  seen 
lilors  miles  at  sea. 
down  their  slopes  the 
PS  spreads  its  green 
^  till  you  dip  into  the 
valleys  thidt  with 
k  and  bloom.  The 
MO  that  oMBie  upon 
OOT^fywhere  of  noble 
|(— of  silvery  streams 
Ig  through  the  deep 
^nd  of  the  blue  sea 
iag   far   ou^  ia   ii§  , 


are  such  as  no  scene  in  our 
own  land  can  in  the  least 
degree  equaL  Tou  would 
think  you  were  moving 
through  enchanted  ground. 

THOSB  WHO  DWKLX  THKUK. 

There  are  two  great  races 
in  these  islands— one  race* 
in  the  western  half^  distin- 
guished by  black  skin  and 
criap  hair;  the  otlier  race  in 
the  eastern  half  of  the  is* 
liinds,  distinguished  by  cop- 
per skin  and  bUok  glossy 
liair.  Both  are  tall  and 
powerfuL  Before  mission- 
aries reached  them,  tatooing 
was  universal — the  strangest 
aud  wildest  figures  being 
cut  upon  the  skin  with  a 
minute  finish  not  excelled 
in  rare  works  of  art.  Their 
disposition  is  generally  frank 
and  open;  and  with  their 
rich  soil  and  thdr  abundant 
breadfruits,  they  lived  a 
wild  tree  life,  with'  neither 
toil  nor  care« 

BaFOBE  TBB  GOBPBI.. 

In  these  lovely  islands,  be- 
fore the  Gospel,  there  were 
the  darkest  spots  of  crime. 
<?ljild-murder  >^*M  tVie  coitL- 

oionest    hortor.      ido\8L\s^ 

4d 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAR'b  TBEASUBT. 


had  many  shrines  in  the  I 
thick  groves.  There  was 
but  a  poor  dim  notion  of  a 
Supreme  Being.  The  spirits 
of  ancestors,  birds,  insects, 
and  wooden  gods  of  the 
islanders*  own  making,  were 
worshipped.  They  had  long 
and  vain  cries  in  the  form 
of  prayers ;  and  besides  offer- 
ing animals,  and  fruits,  and 
manufactures  on  their  altars 
at  ordinary  times, — in  times 
of  war,  or  the  illness  of  their 
kings,  or  the  building  of  a 
temple,  human  sacrifices 
were  made,  attended  with 
black  and  devilish  rites. 
What  a  fair,  Kden-like  clus- 
ter of  island  homes !  in  their 
bosoms  what  dark  places  of 
horrid  cruelty  I  , 

THE  FIRST  MISSIONARY  SHIP. 

It  was  called  the  Duff; 

and  now  it  is  nearly  seventy 

years    since   it    landed   its 

missionary  company  of  some 

twenty  persons  on  the  island 

of  Otaheite,  as  Captain  Cook 

hald    called    it — famous    in 

connexion  with  the  tale  of 

the  mutiny  of  the  Bounty, 

As  the  ship  sailed  within 

the  coral  bar,  a  whole  fleet 

of  canoes  covered  the  water, 

giving   it    eager    welcome. 

It  had  been  sent  out  by  the 

Londoa  Misaionary  Society, 
SO 


freighted  with  its  good  cargo ; 
and  here,  for  the  first  time 
to  those  savage  islanders, 
were  the  feet  coming  beau- 
tiful upon  their  mountains. 
A  large  house  was  given  by 
the  king  for  the  missionary 
band  to  dwell  in;  presents 
were  showered  upon  them ; 
round  their  palm -covered 
home  the  strange  dark 
throng  yelled  and  danced  in 
joy ;  and,  leaving  them  thus 
to  their  awful  toil,  the  ship 
spread  its  sails  and  glided 
away  to  touch  at  other 
shores. 

THE  TVONDER  OF  THE  FOROB. 

Amongst  other  things,  by 
and  by,  the  missionaries 
set  up  a  blacksmith's  forge, 
and  began  to  work  at  the 
anvil.  The  natives,  who 
knew  nothing  of  the  uses  of 
iron  and  the  methods  of 
working  it,  crowded  to  the 
smithy  gazing  in  fear  and 
wonder.  The  bellows  roared, 
the  sparks  flew  at  the  ham- 
mer stroke,  the  hot  iron 
hissed  when  plunged  into 
water,  and  the  onlookers  at 
last  turned  in  their  terror 
and  fled.  By  and.  by  they 
came  to  understand  better, 
and  then  the  marvels  done 
at  that  forge  so  caught  their 
\  fancy  tbiSkX.  W\«^  \)>TQiu^x\iK^ 


TAB  tABBATH  SOHOLAS't  TRBA8DBT. 


aents  in  shoals  to  the 
workers'  feet.  The  king 
himself,  in  his  ecstasy,  could 
not  help  embracing  the 
blacksmith,  and,  as  his  best 

:   token  of  satisfaction,  accord- 

!  ing  to  the  curious  custom  of 
the  island,  he  brought  his 

I  nose  into  contact  with  the 
blackened  face  of  the  artisan. 

I   We  would  look  at  that  with 


laughter,  but  with  the  poor 
Otaheitians  it  was  a  solemn 
deed  of  farour.  So  the  way 
was  early  opened  up—the 
Gospel  found  a  door  of  en- 
trance; snd  how  here  and 
in  the  other  islands  it  ran  to 
and  fro  and  was  multiplied, 
we  will,  if  you  attend  fur- 
ther, gladly  tell  you  month 
by  month. 


WotYiuQ  ixixxs)ith 


/ 


ONCE  had  the  cu- 
riosity to  look  into 
a  little  girl's  work- 
box.  And  what  do 
you  suppose  I  found  ?  Well, 
in  the  first  place,  I  found  a 
*'bead  purse,"  about  half 
done;  there  was,  however, 
no  prospect  of  it  ever  being 
finished,  for  the  needles  were 
out,  and  the  silk  upon  the 
spools  all  tangled  and  drawn 
into  a  complete  wisp.  Lay- 
ing this  aside,  I  took  up  a 
nice  piece  of  perforated 
paper,  upon  which  was 
wniught  one  lid  of  a  Bible, 
and  l^neath  it  the  words  *'  I 
love,"  but  what  she  loved 
was  left  for  me  to  conjecture. 
Beneath  the  Bible  lid  I  found 
aaock,  evidently  commenced 
for  some  baby-foot ;  but  it 
had  come  to  a  stand  just 
about  the  little  heel,  and 
there  it  seemed  doomed  to 
remun.  l^ear  to  the  sock 
wM  B  needle-bookf  one  cover 
of  wbUsli  was  neatly  made  I 


and  upon  the  other,  partly 
finished,  was  marked,  '*1o 
my  dear."  I  need  not,  how- 
ever, tell  you  all  I  found 
there ;  but  this  much  I  can 
say,  that  during  my  travels 
through  that  work  box,  I 
found  not  a  single  article 
complete ;  and,  mute  as  they 
were,  those  half-finished,  for- 
saken things  told  me  a  sad 
story  about  that  little  girl. 
They  told  me  that,  with  a 
heart  full  of  generous  affec- 
tion, with  a  head  full  of  use- 
ful and  pretty  projects,  all 
of  which  she  had  both  the 
means  and  skill  to  CHrry  into 
effect,  she  was  still  a  useless 
child  —  always  doing,  but 
never  accomplishing  her 
work.  It  was  not  a  want  of 
industry,  but  a  want  of  per- 
severance. Remember,  my 
dear  little  friends,  that  it 
matters  but  little  w\\al  gt^iil 
thing  we  undertake.  Omt 
glory  is  not  in  that,  \xviti  *m 
what  we  accompWaVu 

51 


THB  lABBAIB  MHOI.AK'a  TBMUJIXT. 


earnest   ^aiificns. 

LUKK  XIX. 
(Ml^HERE  WIS  once  a  |  mny  ibppOK,  vete  qdte 
dSj'^  great  namber  of ;  crowded.  It  wm  Jtnt 
i^^X^  people  in  the  I  Chritt  ihat  the  )?Mq^  w«« 
ttreeU  of  Jertclio;  the  \  commg  \o?.«Sict  Vi  wfc.  ^ 
windowM  and  the  doors,  we  ,  h*i  be«i  ^w^SSm^  ^»  ■'lifci 
62  


torn  SABBATH  BOHOLAB'S  IBBASTTBT. 


and  castini^  oat  derils,  luid 
doing  many  wonderM 
woriKs;  it  ira»,  therelbre, 
quite  natural  tbat  the  ttreeta 
of  Jericho  should  be  flUed 
with  people  as  He  paaeed 
tHoDg*  Very  likelj  they 
ttid  to  one  aaofebet  as  He 
fttied,  ^See^  there  is  the 
wooderfol  maal"  I  am 
quite  sure  that  some  of  the 
bojrs  would  olimb  up  to  the 
tops  of  the  walls  to  get  a 
Tiev  of  Jesus^  as  you  see 
bojs  do  now  when  there  is 
My  great  light  in  the 
BUeeta.  So  Jesus  went  on 
through  the  great  crowd; 
and,  while  ererjrbody  was 
pushing  and  pi^essing  to  get 
ft  sight  of  Him,  thete  was  one 
msn  in  the  crowd  whom  the 
New  Testamebt  tells  us 
about.  His  name  was  Zao- 
cbeus.  He  was  a  very  rich 
man,  but  it  is  too  evident 
that  he  had  not  been  a  very 
good  man.  Howeter,  he 
wanted  to  repent  and  give 
up  his  bad  life,  and,  I  think, 
lie  went  out  into  the  street 
that  day  to  try  if  Jesus 
would  not  do  something  to 
■STe  his  poor  unhappy  soul. 
Oh,  it  is  a  good  thing  when 
we  haye  an  earnest,  humble 
qiirii,  like  Zaoeheus.  I  am 
Mfnid  Ihat,  thoi^b  there  was 
net  M  crowd  in  the  streeta 


of  Jericho  to  see  Jesos,  yet 
most  of  them  were  there  just 
to  pass  a  half-hour,  and 
laugh  and  talk,  and  that 
they  looked  at  Christ  with- 
out thinking  much  about 
their  souls.  It  was  not  so 
with  earnest  Zaccheus.  But 
alas!  as  the  story  tells  us, 
he  was  a  very  little  man, 
and  he  could  not  see  orer 
the  othdr  people*s  shoulders, 
so  what  was  he  to  do  ?  The 
windows  and  doors  of  the 
houses  were  quite  full,  and 
there  was  nobudy  who  i^ould 
stand  out  of  the  Way,  and 
let  poor  Zaccheus  get  a 
glimpse.  What  uhu  he  to 
do?  I  shall  tell  you  what 
he  did — he  ran  away  along 
the  road  before  the  rest  of 
the  people,  and  climbed  up 
into  a  tree  I  He  did  nut 
care  though  the  boys  should 
call  names  after  him,  he  did 
not  care  though  the  people 
should  laugh  at  him,  if  he 
could  just  get  a  good  yicrw 
of  the  dear  Saviuur.  So  he 
sat  up  among  the  branches 
of  the  tree,  and  looked,  and 
looked,  and  looked  at  Christ. 
Oh,  what  an  earnest  man 
Zaccheus  must  have  been ! 

However,  my  story  is  not 
dooe.    The  Saviour  pasaedi 
on   through   the   crowd  c^ 
p^le,  and  at  last  He  caine 


THB  SABBATH  BGHOLAR*S  TRBASUBT* 


just  under  the  tree  on  which 
Zaccheus  had  climbed.  As 
He  came  nearer  and  nearer, 
Zaccheus,  I  daresaj,  felt  his 
heart  beat  more  quickly. 
He  must  have  thought  with- 
in himself,  while  he  was 
looking  at  Christ,  «0h, 
there  He  comes  at  last !  there 
is  the  blessed  Jesus !  What  a 
kind  face  He  has  got  I  how 
loYing  He  looks!''  Well, 
while  he  was  saying  this  to 
himself^  how  astonished  he 
was  to  see  Jesus  stand  still ! 
And  what  more  do  you 
think  did  Jesus  do?  He 
looked  up  into  the  tree,  and 
fixed  his  eyes  on  Zaccheus, 
and  spoke  to  him  with  a 
very  kind  voice:  what  he 
said  to  him  was,  **Zac- 
cheus,  I  am  going  to  your 
house  to  stay  with  you  I " 
Just  fancy  that !  You  would 
scarcely  believe  your  ears  if 
the  Queen  were  to  tell  you 
that  she  would  come  to  visit 
you :  but  who  was  this  that 
was  going  to  stay  with  the 
despised  man  that  was  up  in 
the  tree  ?  It  was  Jesus,  the 
Lord  of  glory!  And  why, 
do  you  think,  was  Jesus 
going  to  visit  him  ?  It  was 
because  he  was  in  earnest, 
Jesus  Christ  luves  all  earnest 
people,  all  people  who  are 

anxious  to  be  BAved.     And 
54  t 


therefore,  though  there  were 
thousands  of  men  and  wo- 
men who  crowded  the  streets 
of  Jericho,  he  would  not  go 
to  live  with  any  of  them  ex- 
cept Zaccheus.  The  boys 
and  girls  might  make  a  fool 
of  Zaccheus  because  he  was 
such  a  little  man,  but  Christ 
saw  that  he  was  earnest. 
Are  tfou  earnest,  my  dear 
young  friends?  Do  ymi 
really  wish  to  be  saved,  as 
the  man  in  the  tree  did  ?  If 
you  do,  you  may  be  very 
little,  and  perhaps  very  poor, 
but  Jesus  will  see  you,  and 
He  will  love  and  save  you. 

Well,  as  soon  as  Znccheus 
heard  that  the  Saviour  was 
going  to  his  house,  down  he 
came  from  the  tree.  Oh,-  it 
would  have  been  worth  while 
to  have  seen  how  quickly  he 
came  down.  Away  they 
went  together  along  the 
street,  and  then  Zaccheus 
opened  a  door,  and  took 
Jesus  in  with  him,  and,  I 
am  sure,  Zaccheus  was  a 
happy  man,  and  his  house 
was  a  happy  house  that  day. 
I  told  you  that  he  had  not 
been  a  good  man  at  one 
time,  but  after  this  there  was 
a  great  change  on  his  con- 
duct. Instead  of  being  bad 
ZaccVie\x%,Vi«NTa%^  after  this, 
good  ZacOLvexx*.   'Vl\i%X\%i^ 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB's  TBBABUBT. 


ways  the  case  with  those  who 
become  Christ's  people :  they 
do  not  deceive  nor  act  wltek- 
edly  as  thej  did  before.  I 
believe  that  this  man  who 
bad  to  climb  a  tree  once  to 
see  Christ,  sees  Him  now 
perfectly  and  for  evermore 
in  the  dty  above.  There  is 
a  great  crowd  in  the  New 
Jerasalem,  but  it  is  not  like 
the  crowd  in  Jericho,  for 
they  are  all  saints  with 
white  robes  singing  the 
praises  of  Jesus.  Another 
thing  is,  that  every  one  in 
heaven  will  see  Christ  quite 
easily.  There  will  be  no 
need  to  press,  and  struggle, 
and  strive  there,  before  we 
can  get  a  sigh t  of  H  im.  A  nd 
oh,  it  will  be  such  a  glorious 
sight! 

"There  we  shall  see  His  fiice, 
And  never,  never  sin ! " 

So,  my  dear  young  friends, 
be  earnest,  like  the  man  of 
vhom  I  have  told  you :  then 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  will 
bless  and  save  you.  Because 
Zaccheus  was  little  did 
Christ  fail  to  espy  him? 
No!  Did  the  branches  and 
leaves  of  the  tree  hide  him 


from  Christ?  Ko!  Did 
Christ  despise  him  because 
he  had  been  wicked  ?  No ! 
<<To  this  man  will  I  look, 
saith  the  Lord,  even  to  him 
that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite 
spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my 
word."  He  will  look  to  }  ou 
if  you  earnestly  seek  him. 

Zaccheus  climbed  to  see 
The  Savionr  passing  by. 

Though  he  was  hidden  in  the 
tree, 
Christ  fixed  on  him  His  eye. 

Like  him  who  climbed  the  tree, 
I  would  my  Saviour  seek ; 

I  know  when  I  do  pray  He'll  see, 
Before  I  call  Hell  speak. 

He'll  say, "  Come,  sinner,  come! 

Open  to  me  thy  door ; 
I'll  make  of  thy  poor  heart  my 
home, 

And  bless  thee  evermore ! " 

Zaccheus*  house  was  blest, 
That  did  the  Lord  receive ; 

But  better  far  when  \SL0\ahrecL8t 
The  Saviour  comes  to  live. 

Come,  Jesus,  dwell  in  me. 
And  make  me  all  thine  own, 

That,  with  Zaccheus,  I  may  see, 
And    serve    Thee    on    Thy 
throne. 


&5 


IBB  •«BBATH  aOBOLAR'a  TBBAIIIBT. 


"Qe  Sninis  in  His  Jrma." 


.fel^N  a  Chinese  Chri>il«o 

am  only  a  little 

bot:  itwiU 

*i»    family 

t    Amoy. 

be  easier  for  Jesos  to  cany 

^dK>    B    linla 

boy,    the 

me."   ThJiloflc  of  the  heart 

*^^    youngest 

of    three 

wai  too  much 

for  the  b- 

cbildren. 

ther.    He 

on  asking 

took    bim 

hia  ftthet 

with  him. 

10      .llow 

and      the 

him  to  be 

dMr<Mld 

Iwirtteed. 

wa«      ere 

*M     told 

long   bap- 

that       he 

t  i  z  e  d. 

wa»      too 

The  whole 

youog;      if! 

lamily,  of 

that      be 

^  wbjcbthis 

r^v^vt"  ^^ 

^31 

L  child      is 

back  If  he  k:53 

'  the  youn- 

made    the   loiichinH   reply,  i  . 
"Jesus  hot  promised  tocarry 
tlie  lambs  in  His  arms.     I  | 


%  IgfantilttI  kt  faWg  ®m. 


^^H  called  the  Man* 
fflgyjlB  chaneel,  which 
"^"^  growf  in  the  West 
Indie* ;  to  appearanua  it  ii 
Tery  attractive,  and  the 
wood  of  it  peculiarly  Ijeauti- 
ful ;  it  bears  a  kind  of  apple, 
resembling  the  golden  pip-  j 
pin.  This  frnit  looks  very  ', 
teatpttog,   and   amelU   very  ' 


fragrant ;  bat  to  eat  of  it  it 

insTant  deatli ;  and  it*  sap 
or  joice  is  »o  Ixiiaonont,  dint 
if  a  ft  w  drops  of  it  rail  on  tb« 
skin,  it  raises  UbtCM,  and 
occasions  great  palo.  The 
Indiana  dip  their  arrow*  ia 
the  juice,  that  they  may 
poison  their  etiemles  when 
they  wuxuil  \\iein.  Pcovi- 
deoce  bu.^  '"  "  "' 


.m  aOHOLAB't  TBBAMJBT* 


wm  Hi  these  tnee  is 
ivuad,  bm  neer  il 
alse  grews  a  wkUt 
or  a  fig-tree,  the  juice 
tf  ofwhiefa^ifiMlied 
•^  is  a  remed/  tor  the 
m  jwodoecd  by  the 
paeeL  Now  whea  1 
di  aooomit,  I  tiioiight 
and  salvatioiL  biii« 
Us  poisoBous  apple^ 
plessaat  to  the  ejre# 


and  men  desire  it,  and  eat 
of  it,  and  die.  But  there  is 
a  remedy  st  hand.  Apply, 
therefore,  to  this  means  of 
cure!  Fly  to  a  orocifled 
Satiour  1  there  it  no  time  to 
be  lost!  the  poison  works 
witliin  us!  the  disease 
every  moment  is  inoreas- 
inff.  Go  to  the  great  Phy- 
sieian  without  delay.  — 
WkiaeroM. 


p  Pm  t|at  m^^  W  Wmams. 


rSUBEH  BLACK 
was  a  torment  in 
the  neighbotirhood 
wheiie  be  resided^ 
lib  had  a  sharp  ahd 
AN^ble  look.  HU 
Itemed  to  be  in  per^ 
ikmr^  His  dog  drop- 
Is  tail  between  his 
isd  eyed  hfm  ask- 
«a  if  to  see  what 
a  he  was  in.  The  6at 
:  Wild,  and  liad  been 
I  to  rush  straight  up 
Imney  when  he  moved 
Ife  her.  Every  day  be 
■  the  toirn  and  the 
Mrhood  because  the 
•  poisoned  his  dogs 
Med  his  hens.  Oon- 
Mkwsttits  involved  him 
Mfach  trouble  and  ex- 
tliat  he  luul  Neither 
W  moiiey  to  spend  in 
bprovemenl    of    his 

I 

WM  the  MUte    of  I 
Simeon  Oreen  I 


bought  the  farm  next  to 
Reuben's.  Thi*  bad  been 
much  neglected,  and  had 
caught  thifitles  and  other 
weeds  from  the  neighbour- 
ing fields.  But  Simeon  was 
a  diligent  man,  and  one  who 
commanded  well  his  own 
temper,  for  he  had  learned 
of  Him  who  is  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart.  His  steady 
perseverance  and  industry 
soon  changed  the  aspect  of 
things  on  the  larm.  Itiver 
mud,  autumn  leaves,  old 
bones,  were  all  put  into  use 
to  assist  in  producing  fer- 
tility and  beauty.  His  sleek 
horse  tossed  his  mane  and 
neighed  when  his  master 
came  near;  as  much  as  to 
say,  •*  The  world  is  sU  the 
pleasauter  for  hating  you 
in  it,  Simeon  Green!" 
When  Simeon  turned  his 
steps  homewards,  V\ft  fiYiW 
dren  threw  theit  capft  ax^^ 
ran     ahouting,     ^*YAX\i«t*a 

51 


THB  SABBATH  BCHOLAB*S  TBBASUBT. 


coming  I**  His  wife  some- 
times said  to  her  neighbours, 
"  Everybody  loves  my  hus- 
band that  knows  him.  They 
cannot  help  it." 

Simeon  Green's  acquain 
tance  knew  that  he  was 
never  engaged  in  a  lawsuit 
in  bis  life,  but  they  predicted 
that  he  would  find  it  impos- 
sible to  avoid  it  now.  They 
told  him  his  next  neighbour 
was  determined  to  quarrel 
with  people  whether  they 
would  or  not;  that  he  was 
like  John  Lilburne,  of  whom 
it  was  happily  said,  "  If  the 
world  were  emptied  of  every 
person  but  himself,  Lilburne 
would  still  quarrel  with 
John,  and  John  with  Lil- 
burne." 

'* Is  that  his  character?" 
said  Simeon.  '*  If  he  exer- 
cises  it  upon  me,  I  will  soon 
kill  him." 

People  were  not  slow  in 
repeating  Simeon  Green's 
remark  about  his  wrangling 
neighbour.  **Eill  me,  will 
he  ? "  exclaimed  Keuben. 
He  said  no  more;  but  his 
tightly  -  compressed  mouth 
had  such  a  significant  ex- 
pression that  his  dog  slunk 
from  him  in  alarm. 

Then  commenced  a  series 
of  teasing  worries  and  per- 
secutions, for  Reuben  was 
determined  to  make  his  new 
neighbour  quarrel  with  him. 
But  for  some  time  all  his 
attempts  failed.  Simeon 
would  not  be  quarrelled 
wi$h.  Nay  more,  he  and  his 
Ti7&  made  many  little  ad- 

S8 


vances  to  a  friendly  state  of 
things;  and  never  seemed  af- 
fronted when  they  were  re- 
jected. 

This  imperturbable  good- 
nature vexed  Reuben  more 
than  all  the  tricks  and 
taunts  he  met  from  others. 
Evil  efforts  he  could  under- 
stand, and  repay  with  com- 
pound interest,  but  he  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of 
this  perpetual  forbearance. 
It  seemed  to  him  there  must 
be  something  contemptuous 
in  it.  He  disliked  Simeon 
more  than  all  the  rest  of  the 
people  put  together,  because 
he  made  him  feel  so  uncom- 
fortably in  the  wrong,  and 
did  not  aflfbrd  him  the  slight- 
est pretext  for  complaint. 
At  last,  one  night,  after  sit- 
ting very  thoughtfully  smok- 
ing for  a  long  time,  he  gentlj 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe,  and  said,  with  a  sigh, 
**  Peg,  Simeon  Green  has 
killed  me  I " 

♦•What  do  you  mean?" 
said  his  wife,  dropping  her 
knitting  with  a  look  of  sur- 
prise. 

"  You  know  when  he  first 
came  into  this  neighbour- 
hood, he  said  he  would  kill 
me,"  replied  Reuben ;  ^  and 
he  has  done  it.  The  other 
day  he  asked  me  to  help 
his  team  out  of  the  bog* 
and  I  told  him  I  had 
enough  to  do  to  attend  to 
my  own  business.  To-day 
my  team  stuck  fast  in  the 
same  \)o%,  tt.iid\v^  q»xsa  with 
i  two  yoke  ol  oiKfiw  Xo  ^tvh  Nx 


THB  BABBATH^  SCHOLAR  t  TBBABURT. 


oat.  I  felt  ashamed  to  have 
him  lend  me  a  haiid;  so  I 
told  him  I  wanted  none  of 
bi8  help;  but  be  answered 
just  as  pleasant  as  if  nothing 
contrary  bad  hi^ipened,  that 
Dight  was  coming  on  and  he 
was  not  willing  to  leave  me 
in  the  mud." 

**  He  is  a  pleasant-spoken 
man,"  said  Mrs.  Black,  ^  and 
always  has  a  pretty  word  to 
uj  to  the  boys.  His  wife 
leems  to  be  a  nice  neigh- 
bourly body  too." 

The  next  morning,  much 
to  his  wife's  astonishment, 
Reuben  took  np  a  fine 
ripe  melon,  and  said  he 
would  take  it  *•  over  there." 
Orer,  accordingly,  to  Mr. 
Green*s  house  he  went,  feel- 
ing very  awkward,  and  after 
brushing  his  hat,  and  rub- 
bing his  head,  and  looking 
out  at  the  window,  he  said 
suddenly,  as  if  by  a  despe^ 
rate  eflfbrt,  **The  fact  is, 
Mr.  Green,  1  did  not  behaye 
right  about  the  oxen." 

"  Never  mind  —  never 
mind,"  replied  Mr.  Green. 
**  Perhaps  I  shall  get  into 
the  bog  again  one  of  these 
nuny  days.  If  I  do,  I 
shall  know  whom  to  call 
upon" 

**Why,  you  see,"  said 
Reuben,  still  very  much 
oonfosed,  and  avoiding  Sim- 
eon*s  mild  clear  eye,  "you 
tee  the  neighbours  h^re  are 
very  ugly.  If  I  had  always 
lived  by  such  neighbours  as 
you  are,  1  sbonid  not  bejuat 
uImou  "  \ 


"Ah,  well,  we  must  try 
to  be  to  others  what  we  want 
them  to  be  to  us,"  rejoined 
Simeon.  "You  know  the 
good  Book  says  so.  I  have 
learned  by  experience,  that 
if  we  speak  kind  words,  we 
hear  kind  echoes.  If  we  try 
to  make  otiiers  happy,  it  fills 
them  with  a  wish  to  make 
us  happy.  Perhaps  you  and 
I  can  bring  the  neighbours 
round  in  time  to  this  way  of 
thinking  and  acting.  Who 
knows  ?  —  let  us  try,  Mr. 
Black,  let  •  us  try.  And 
come  and  look  at  my  or- 
chard. I  want  to  shew  you 
a  tree  which  1  have  grafted 
with  very  choice  apples. 
If  you  like,  I  will  procure 
you  some  cuttings  from  the 
same  stock." 

They  went  into  the  or- 
chard together,  and  friendly 
chat  soon  put  Reuben  at  his 
ease.  When  he  returned 
home,  he  made  no  remarks 
about  his  visit ;  for  he  could 
not,  as  yet,  summon  suffi- 
cient greatness  of  soul  to  tell 
his  wife  that  he  had  con- 
fessed himself  in  the  wrong. 
A  gun  stood  behind  the  kit- 
chen door,  in  readiness  to 
shoot  Mr.  Gre&n*s  dog  for 
having  barked  at  his  horse. 
He  now  fired  the  contents 
into  the  air,  and  put  the  gun 
away  into  the  barn.  From 
that  day  henceforth,  he 
never  sought  for  any  pretext 
to  quarrel  with  the  dog  or 
his  master. 

8imeon   Green   waa    loo 
magnanimous  to  repeal  to 

5^ 


THB  SABBATH  S0HOLAS*8  TBBAflUmT. 


anj  one  that  his  quarrel- 
some neighbour  hs4  con- 
feMed  himself  to  blame.  He 
merely  smiled  as  he  said  to 


his   wife,   ''I   thou{ 
should    kill    htm    f 
while.**  —  SunheoTM 
Cottage, 


ffilfeje  Islling  ^ain. 


^ARK  the  rain  tliat 
falls  from  above; 
the  same  shower 
that  drops  out  of  one  cloud 
increaseth  sundry  plants  in 
a  garden,  and  severally,  ao 
cording  to  the  conditioii  of 
every  plant.    In  one  stalk  it 


makes  a  rose ;  in  an 
violet;   diverse  in  a 
and  sweet  in  all. 
Spirit    works    His 
farious   effects    in 
complexions,  and  all 
ing  to  the  increase  of 
Jeremy  Taylor, 


I 


Wt^t  l^itmer  $lesltin$  ioU|  Christ 

[OB  ever  here  my  rest  shall  be, 
Close  tQ  Thy  bleeding  sid^ ; 
This  all  my  hope,  an4  all  my  plea. 
For  me  the  Saviour  died. 
My  dying  Saviour,  and  Jfij  God, 

Fountain  for  gaiU  and  sin. 
Sprinkle  mc  ever  witli  Thy  blood, 
And  cleanse  and  keep  mc  dean. 

Wash  me,  and  make  me  thus  Thine  own. 

Wash  me,  and  mine  Thou  art : 
Wash  me,  but  not  my  feet  ^one, 

My  hands,  my  bead,  my  heart. 
Th*  atonement  of  Thy  blood  apply. 

Till  faith  to  sight  hnprove; 
Till  hope  in  ful^  fruition  die, 

And  aU  my  soul  be  lovs. 


GO 


«|t  guttnlj  mi  its  Stssons. 

t^ITH  lo rely  flowers  and  as  we  may  learn  wig- 
^3  nnd  gay  longs  of  ilom  from  Ihc  bee  and  tlie 
^  birdi,  the  gentle  ani,  so  tiiis  liny  creature 
t!i  of  early  summer  too  comeg  Ui  ua  witli  ils 
I  alao  Ihouianda  of  leasoDSi  for  it  ii  a  very 
ful  and  busy  inpect*.  curious  thing  that  &  boiwt- 
im  nil  none  it  B  greater  fly'a  abort  life  ie  jast  ii\\U\a 
■le  Chan  tl:e  butlerBi- ;  picture  of  the  Ifti  STJUnftet 
6V 


THE  B4BBATB  BOHOLAB's  TRBASURT. 


and  the  never-ending  exis- 
tence of  man. 

Every  one  knows  that  the 
butterfly  comes  from  a  kind 
of  caterpillar.  Some,  who 
have  examined  this  little 
worm  with  the  help  of  a 
microscope  (a  glass  used  to 
make  objects  look  larger), 
tell  us  that  there  is  another 
small  creature  enclosed 
within  it,  which  is  just  the 
butterfly  ungrown.  The 
caterpillar  spends  its  dull 
lite  among  the  herbage  on 
which  it  feeds,  then  seeks 
some  quiet  place  of  shelter, 
where,  covering  itself  up  in 
a  soft  silken  clew,  it  falls 
asleep  and  (as  it  were)  dies. 
But,  by  and  by,  from  this 
state  of  death  the  butterfly 
comes  forth  in  all  its  living 
beauty.  The  varied  hues  of 
its  wings  gleam  bright  in 
the  sunshine,  and  all  the 
long  summer  day  it  flits 
through  garden  and  meadow, 
sipping  perfumei)  juices  from 
the  sweetest  flowers.  Now, 
is  there  not  here,  first,  some- 
thing very  like  the  life  of 
man  in  this  poor  sinful 
world,  then  something  very 
like  his  death,  and  last  of  all, 
something  very  like  his  ris- 
ing again  in  glory  ?  Is  it  not 
au  emblem  of  the  Christian  ? 

hut  Bometimea,  strange  to 
(J2 


say,  though  everything  else 
I  have  described  takes  place, 
no  butterfly  comes  forth. 
The  cause  of  this  is  very 
wonderful.  Some  very  little 
insects  live  in  the  inside  of 
others  and  feed  upon  them, 
but  when  it  happens  that 
one  of  this  kind  attacks  the 
caterpillar,  it  makes  its  way 
to  the  little  butterfly  within, 
and  feeds  upon  it  alone. 
The  caterpillar  itself  all  the 
while  appears  quite  healthy, 
and,  at  the  usual  time,  re- 
tires to  its  deathlike  rest, 
but  when  it  is  examined, 
nothing  is  found  but  the 
empty  skin.  The  butterfly 
within  has  been  secretly 
destroyed.  How  like,  again, 
is  this  to  the  ungodly  man  I 
Outward/^  perhaps  he  is  all  his 
days  prosperous  and  happy, 
but  sin  is  secretly  killing  bis 
soul,  and  when  the  last  great 
change  has  come,  he  finds, 
what  he  may  never  have 
dreamt  of  before,  but  finds 
too  late,  that  his  soul  is  lost! 
Oh  !  how  very,  very  sad  it 
is  to  think  that  many,  who 
might  live  for  ever  and  ever  in 
the  glory  and  bliss  of  heaven, 
will  never  enter  there,  be- 
cause in  this  world  they  love 
sin,  and  do  not  ask  Him  who 
died  for  ftlunera  to  save  them 
from  it  i^oYf  \  \> .  \i , 


( 


THS  SABBATH  8GHOLAR*8  TRBABUBT. 


^t  ^ttitbag  ^cl^ffffl  ^ocmatiifL 


jN  one  of  our  Sunday 
schools,  not  long 
since,  a  visiting 
friend,  who  was  ad- 
dressing the  school,  remark- 
ed that  he  would  like  to  see 
all  the  children  like  locomo- 
tives, coming  into  school  with 
a  tram  of  new  scholars 
The  result  was,  the  next 


Sunday,  in  came  one  of  the 
boys,  followed  by  five  new 
scholars,  all  holding  on  to 
each  other's  coats,  and  he 
puffing  away  like  a  locomo- 
tive in  motion.  Would  it 
not  be  well  if  all  Sunday 
school  scholars  should  be- 
come such  locomotives  ? — 
iSunday  School  A  dvoaitt. 


^t0ms. 


/ 


AMMA,  I  mean 
to  be  a  mission- 
ary," said  little 
Alice,  looking  up 
;  with  her  bright  face  from  a 
I  book  she  had  been  reading — 
I  a  narrative  of  missionary 
i    life. 

i       "  Why  do  you  wish  to  be 
;    a  missionary,  my  child  ?  " 

** Because  they  are  so  good, 
,    and  do  so  much  good,  /want 
':    to  do   good    in  the  world, 
mamma." 

"I    hope    you    will,    my 

dear,'* SHid  the  mother;  "but 

there  are  many  ways  of  being 

useful.    God  wishes  us  all 

•    lo  serve  Him,  and  He  will 

'    point  out  the  right  way  for 

I    yon  to  do  it;  it  may  be  by 

i    in)ing  on  a  mission  to  foreign 

lands,  or  it  may  be  by  quietly 

I    rioing    good    in    your    own 

family  circle — bfing  a  little 

^owc  miasjonary.     Yon   can 

^  that  now  every  day  of 

Xourlife," 


*'I  don't  see  much  I  can 
do  here,"  said  Alice:  **  I  have 
to  study  almost  the  whole 
time,  you  knuw,  and  that 
does  no  one  any  good." 

"Yes,  indeed,  it  does," 
replied  her  mother.  **  I  read 
a  sentence  to-day,.  Alice, 
which  made  me  th  nk  of 
you;  it  was  from  a  quaint 
old  author,  who  says,  *Life 
is  made  up  of  two  heaps, 
one  of  sorrow,  and  one  of 
happiness,  and  whoever  car- 
ries ihe  very  smallest  atom 
from  one  to  the  other  does 
God  a  service.*  There  is 
never  a  day  in  which  you 
do  not  carry  a  great  many 
atoms  to  one  pile  or  the 
other.*' 

"  Do  I  ?  Have  I  laid  any 
on  either  to-day,  mamma?" 

*'Yes,  indeed;   when  you 
spoke  angrily  to  \\U\e  Watt-j 
about  the  doll  tV\«  tootxvux^, 
you  made  us  both  ^exy  mv\- 
comfortable,  and   put  rcxoxe 


TRK  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASURT. 


than  oDe  atom  on  the  pile  of 
sorrowr  and  another  when 
you  pouted  because  I  wished 
you  to  wear  your  hood  to 
school.  When  you  helped 
Mary  Berrel  to  carry  her 
basket,  you  laid  an  atom  on 
the  joy-heap — two  atoms,  I 
fancy,  for  she  as  well  as  I 
was  made  happier  by  the 
kind  act.  When  you  hung 
your  cloak  and  hood,  and 
put  gloves  and  books  all  in 
their  right  places  after  les- 
sons to-night,  you  put  quite 
ii  large  atom  on  my  pile  of 
joy.  When  you  were  so 
thoughtless  as  to  make  a 
noise  that  woke  baby  from 
his  sleep,  and  set  hira  cry- 
ing, another  atom  went  on 
the  heap  of  sonroMT.  When 
you  picked  up  grandmamma's 
spectacles  with  a  smiling 
luce,  and  pleasantly  laid 
down  your  book  to  take  up 
a  stitch  in  ber  knitting,  you 


increased  the  pile 
ness." 

"Oh,  how  odd, 
what  great  big  he 
must  get  to  be  I " 

**  Yes,  indeed,  for 
constantly  making 
or  tlie  other  larger 
my  little  Alice  will 
carrying  atoms  ai 
the  pile  of  sorrow 
that  of  happineffs 
thus  removed  every 
how  nmch  she  wi 
plish  in  a  lifetime ! 

Papa*8  step  was  i 
at  the  door;  A  lie* 
draw  his  arm-chai 
the  blazing  fire,  anc 
slippers  where  tfa 
get  warm  ;  and  wlie 
how  pleased  he  lool 
them  there,  she^  'w 
"I  think  1  put 
little  bit  of  an  ato 
joy-heap  there,  mi 
AmericaH  Messengei 


Mfest  a  i^ng  Pag  iff. 

GRAIN  of  corn  an  infant's  band 
May  plant  upon  aa  iach  of  land ; 
Wbrace  twenty  stalks  might  spring  an 
Enough  to  stock  a  little  field. 

The  harvest  of  that  field  might  then 

Be  multiplied  to  ten  times  ten ; 

Which,  sown  t&rice  more,  could  furnish  bread 

Wherewith  an  army  might  be  fed. 

A  penny  is  a  little  thing, 

Which  e*en  a  poor  man's  child  may  btVwg 

Into  the  treaBury  of  heaven, 

A.nd  make  it  worth  as  much  aa  seven. 
64 


TBS  SABBAVH  ■CaOt.AR'*  rOBASORT. 


Bto  tff  ht  f fl&fJr. 


^,HE  more  children 
love  everybody, 
the  more  every- 
body loves  them. 
Did  you  ever  think  of  that 
before?   When  a  child's  ~ 


beams  with  love,  you  may  be 
quite  sure  there  are  hearts 
which  turn  with  fond  affec- 
tioo  toward  the  little  one. 
You  seldom  meet  a  smile 
alone.  They  travel  in  troops. 


©ales  at  f^t  §^tmt\  §im  Islanbs. 


(jOontiimed  fi 


TBB  OAPTIVB  SHIP. 

VERYTHING  went 
well  fbr  a  time; 
and  when  the  news 
reached  England  of  the 
happy  settlement  in  Tahiti, 
good  men*s  hearts  beat  with 
joy.  But  shadows  were 
coming  up  the  bright  hori* 
zoo.  Home  the  ship  Duff 
came  with  her  tidings,  and 
then,  freighted  again  with  a 
company  of  missionaries,  slie 
tailed  out  of  port  on  a  second 
trip  to  the  southern  waters. 
Many  an  ardent  prayer  fd- 
loved  her  white  wake  on  the 
deep.  Scarce  bad  she  seen 
the  shores  of  South  America, 
howev^,  when  a  French 
privateer  took  her  captive. 
For  several  weeks  the  mis 
nonaries  and  their  wives  and 
children  were  cmeVjr  pwted. 
Then  they  met  ngmin  in  a  ^ 
^panuA  port,  but  onljr  to  see  ' 


cm  page  51.) 

starvation  or  a  dark  prison 
staring  them  in  the  face.  In 
their  extremity  the  heart 
of  the  French  captain  was 
moved  to  mercy,  and  be 
found  a  passage  back  to 
Europe  for  them  in  a  Portu- 
guese ship.  But,  to  crown 
their  misfortunes,  that  ship, 
in  turn,  was  captured  as  a 
smuggler ;  and  after  great 
hardships,  the  missionary 
band  were  landed  first  at 
Lisbon,  and  then  found  their 
way  back  to  England,  after 
ten  months*  absence,  all  their 
labour,  as  it  seemed,  lost, 
and  their  sufferings  in  vain. 
Yet  it  w  as  not  so  In  the  sight 
of  that  Lord  in  whose  cause 
they  had  endured. 


THE  SKY  OVBRCASr. 

\     In  Tahiti  itself  the  mis«\Qa 
was  faring  still  worae.   Ktt^T 
their  first  burat  of  amaiift* 
ment,   the    natives    %V\e^%A. 


DAture  coming  nut.  Tliey 
Biculked  about  lUemiBsiaLiflry 
settlement,  plumicrin^  and 
lliiering  every  nrtiele  ovtr 
which  ihej-  tould  lay  Ihoir 
hRTidB.  Mbdj  of  them,  I 
covered  with  ijie 


e  life,  un 


othe 


the  iletp  ialmii!  forfslB,  i 
were  set  on  by  the  f 
Blripped.  Rnd  all  hut  n 
dered.  They  narrowly 
cnped  back  lo  tlielr  bh 
house.  They  found  t 
hretliren  there  foriifyin 
in  great  alxmi.    The  wl 


mjuioufii'y  hc-pilal  door, 
mandJDg  fiercely  that 
charm  ihoald  l>c  wrought 

them,  10  that  instantly  they  i  Out  of  every   thicket  d 

mi^ht  he   hexleil.     By  and  facen   ^lennird   upon   ih 

hy  (heir  life  whs  threntened.  and  in  a  few  duyo  the  to. 

Uut    of    an     Englisti     ghip,  of    war    was    ringing    . 

drireninbystncsofweHllier  Terrified    hy  their   dan 

into   Matavsi   Hay,   aevern)  the  miasionnry  baud  hr 

Builora  had  deserted,  and  llie  up.  ¥,\e-veive«cB^v.w\« 
foini-nariee having.  ptt\it^t  i  Uie  ViuftVu^i  tta^v^ »iii  » 


a  BABSATH  SOHOLAB'i  ' 


nonly  , 


I    WMherMenpt.    S?t 

iciriliied ;   ■iid   the 

,    bniegen    round    them,    in 

'    llirm  now  lest  the  mUainn 

.    ibinild  be  swept  Troni  their 

<    ihorei      altogether,     threw 

I    down  thelT  Hrms,  tried  out 

(or  peice,  and  implore*!  lite 

■CTcn  to  remitlD.     So  it  vai 

i)onr,Rndiheslorm  ofMuod- 

■betl  ind  teiror  passed 


In  1B0O  the   first  church 

j    RiTed.     It  vai  a   modpst, 

I    dlh  iU  p>lm- thatched  roof. 

I    Ai  toon  M  it  was  completed, 

I    Pomare  the  king  lent  njiih 

,    ••  ta  offering  to  Jraa  Ch'iat, 

I    'ilh  a  reqaest  that  it  might 

I    appear  in  the  building.   Such 

i    vu  the  rude  impulse  of  this 

nnUaght  heiirt.  The  church 

•u  built  was  ibe  fint  temple 

Ite  Nune  of  Clirist  in  all 

■be  South  Sea  Islands;  and 

foa  can   fonc;   with   what 

jaj   the    poor    miieionaries 

looked  at  the  aacred  houfe 

ai  it  peeped  out  of  iU  nesl 

■^  foliajte  down   upon   the 

ninnjr   baj  and    the   great 

(leean   world.    They   hopeil 

It  would   be  crowded   soon 

»ilh     worshipping     beartt. 

Bat  Gad  had  not  orilained  it 

m    Hardly  two  yeara  irerw  i 


topnsa,  whenflreandMaujfh- 
ter  were  to  sweep  upon  the 
scene  again,  and  the  very 
hands  that  ao  plotialj  bnilt 
the  temple  should  be  the 
Srst  to  pull  it  into  mins, 
lest  it  niifrht  be  made  a 
atronghold  for  aoTage  foes  t 


thdt 


England  joined  the  misal 
arj  band. 


>iild  < 


RDiong  the  naliTca  about  a 
famous  idol-god.  named  Oro, 
threw  all  again  into  disma}'. 
It  was  in  this  war  the  Utile 
church  waa  destroyed.  Tlien 
the  earliest  friend  of  the 
misiioniiriet,  old  Pomare, 
died.  He  had  remained  to 
the  laat  a  stubborn  idolati  r^ 


.the' 


t  he 


waa  offering  a  heljring  hand 
'  totheCh^ist■anmia8ioDarie^ 
he  was  putting  to  death  his 
human  sacrifices  In  (he  black 
iiland  groTen !  These  are 
the  crow  ciurenla  of  the 
heart  nhich  the  Word  of 
God  asRUres  u«  Is  deceitful 
above  all  things  and  deepe- 
ratel;  wicked. 

Round  the  miasion-hoUH: 
'  rcboi>UwereopeiM&Miwn^«^-    ^ 
the    first    th\nge    fot    IV\« 
lavage  chiMtsn.    It  "■»*  * 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAR'B  TBBASDRT. 


hard  piece  of  work.  Not 
only  with  the  children,  but 
with  the  grown-up^  the  rooms 
were  filled  to  stifling. 

But  manj  of  the  parents 
CAme  in  this  way,  bent  on 
nothing  but  idle  frolic.  They 
took  with  them  cocks  and 
dogs,  flung  them  upon  the 
floor,  urged  them  to  fight, 
and  laughed  loud  over  the 
tumult  that  followed,  and 
the  grief  especially  of  the 
patient  teachers.    The  same 


wild  uproar  was  often 
in    the    middle    of 
service.    Nevertheles 
good   work  went    oc 
one  of  the  fruits,  sec 
few  years,,  was  in  tl 
king  Pomare  writing 
London  Missionary  i 
a  letter  in  his  mother 
He  had  been  a  pupil 
Christian  school,  and 
seeds  at  least   had 
root  in  his  heart. 

(To  he  continaed. 


%  ^toTj  0f  lattUiif  latuw. 


CRAPTBR  I. 

)BOUT  seven  oreigfart 
and  twenty  years 
a){Oy  Jai  Tshasseda 
Odah,  a  chief  of  a 
Galla  tribe,  was  made  happy 
by  the  birth  of  a  daughter, 
whom  be  named  Qanomeh. 
In  after  years  she  always 
felt  that  she  could  never 
sufficiently  praise  the  pa- 
ternal affection  with  which 
he  treated  her.  He  spared 
no  pains  whatever  to 
bring  her  up  as  a  virtuous 
daughter.  How  often  did 
he  exhort  her  to  this  I  And, 
moreover,  this  Galla  prince 
had  a  deep  feeling  that  his 
own  example  alone  would 
give  the  right  impression  to 
his  exhortations  He  was  an 
especial  friend  to  the  poor. 
Richly  ble§aed  with  the 
^oods  of  tlu8  world,  H  was 
68 


to  him  a  delight  to  h 
power  of  doing  good 
poor  of  his  tribe, 
must  have  been  son 
tender  in  the  mind 
man,  for  he  might  b 
seen  going  into  the  c 
of  the  sick,  and  < 
them  medicines  wli 
had  himself  prepai 
ray  from  the  hcavenl; 
had  fallen  into  this  h€ 
heart,  for  he  early 
his  little  daughter  to 
God,  who  was  truly 
an  unknown  God :  wl 
she  spoke  of  him,  he 
was  full  of  joy  and  ai 
ment  at  what  thi 
father  had  done  for  h 
He  was  a  brave  an> 
ageous    prince,    anc 

? roof  of  this  in  many 
n  one  of  these  oon 

aide  of  \ua  ^slui^^quk.) 


TMB  BAIHK^TH  SOBOLAB's  TBKABUBT. 


wonnded ;  the  child  was  tSien 
MX  years  old,  her  prop  was 
brokeo.  Shall  we  complain 
of  death?  I  think  that  we 
ihottld  rather  adore  God, 
who  works  in  a  mysterious 
lat  blessed  and  glorions  way. 

We  know  almost  nothing 
of  the  mother  of  the  child, 
ftnd  it  would  appear  that  she 
beoime  actoally  an  orphan 
by  the  death  of  her  father, 
to  whom  she  reniained  at- 
tached with  tender  affection 
even  after  he  had  been 
buried.  Often  was  the  dear 
child  seen  going  to  her  father's 
grave,  which  was  about  half- 
Mtt  -  hoiir*8  distance  from 
home ;  she  would  stay  there 
weeping  for  hours.  One  day, 
when  she  had  wept  till  she 
could  weep  no  more,  and 
was  about  to  return  home, 
•he  saw  a  company  of  Mo- 
hammedans approiiching  her ; 
tliej  were  kidnappers.  The 
child,  who  was  but  nine 
yduv  old,  could  oppose  no 
resistance,  and  had  recourse 
to  earnest  entreaties  and 
tear*;  bul  they  were  of  no 
avail,  for  they  were  inhuman 
men,  who  had  silenced  long 
t|^  the  Toice  of  their  oon- 
•ctence. 

Etoorted  by  these  habitu- 
ated slare-hunters,  the  Gkilla 
maiden  had  to  make  a  long 
joamey  trcm  the  south.  They 
halted  only  once  a  week. 
At  last  they  reached  Sennar, 
the  capital  of  Sudan,  a  pro- 
vince beloDjrjn^  to  the  Pa»h& 
ot Egypt,  At  Sennur,  FAtme 
muf  taken  to  the  slave  mar- 


ket, with  many  other  mide 
and  female  slaves.  A  slave- 
trader  who  bought  Fatme 
treated  her  well,  for  he  knew 
that  grief  and  melancholy 
would  spoil  her  looks,  and 
injure  her  value  for  sale. 
Traders  as  well  as  keepers  of 
harems  used  to  come  to  the 
house  where  she  was  waiting 
her  future  destiny.  She  was 
even  then  fully  aware  of  the 
nature  of  «  harem ;  and  the 
thought  of  being  in  such  a 
koude  of  sia  filled  her  with 
horror  and  anxiety.  But 
what  coukl  she  do?  She 
had  recourse  to  prayer,  say- 
ing to  an  unknown  God,  *'0 
gc^  God,  only  let  me  not 
go  into  a  house  of  wicked- 
ness!" Thus  she  prayed 
often,  aa  she  afterwards  re- 
lated to  our  friends.  Our 
merciful  God,  who  was  de- 
siitniRg  the  salvation  of  this 
Ibrsaken  young  orphan,  coo- 
descended  to  hear  her  simple 
and  earnest  prayer. 

It  happened  several  times 
that  Fatme,  having  notice  of 
the  arrival  of  some  Turkish 
merchants,  had  reoourse  to 
prayer;  and  each  time  was 
visited  with  a  kind  ef  erup- 
tion, which  prevented  the 
keepers  of  harems  tcani  buy- 
ing her.  After  some  time 
she  was  conveyed  to  Assuan, 
a  town  Mtuated  in  Upper 
F»?ypt;  she  was  then  sold 
about  twelve  times:  at  last 
she  was  brought  to  Caivo^ 
and  waa  bought  Vi^  \\i« 
Pasha  of  Egypt.  ^Yie  ni«a 
tiow  well  off  aa  TegaT(\ed  \k^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TRBASURT. 


outward  condition :  and  was 
^^mployed  in  culinary  work. 
Being  always  of  a  serious 
turn  of  mind,  as  we  have 
l>efore  observed,  she  attached 
herself  to  some  better  dis- 
posed Mohammedan  females, 
and  joined  in  their  devotions. 
We  see  how  the  Lord  was 
preparing  this  African  girl 
for  the  better  things  which 
He  had  in  store  for  her. 

It  was  in  the  year  1847  or 
1 848  that  Baron  von  Muller, 
a  native  of  Srutgard,  who 
was  on  his  travels  in  the 
East,  came  to  Cairo,  and 
was  introduced  to  the  Pasha 
of  Egypt,  who  presented  to 
him  this  Galla  negress,  who 
bore  the  name  of  Fatme  at 
that  time.  The  baron  brought 
her  to  Europe.  After  a  pro- 
tracted stay  at  Vienna  and 
Leipsic,  he  returned  to  Stut- 
gard,  where  he  presented 
Fatme  to  his  mother,  who 
assigned  to  her  the  duty  of 
waiting  at  table:  also  she 
usually  accompanied  the 
family  in  their  journeys. 
By  direction  of  the  baron, 
she  was  instructed  l^y  a 
German  Catholic  teacher, 
not  only  in  the  German  lan- 
guage, but  also  in  his  reli- 
gion. The  baron  had  pur- 
chased two  negro  boys  in 
^?JPt;  <ind  he  one  day. 
at  the  house  of  the  Baron 
von  Berlichingen,  introduced 
these,  together  with  Fatme, 
m  their  Esyptian  dress,  to 
the  Queen  of  Wirtemberg. 
ThiB  royal  and  Christian 
Jadjr,  however,  was  not  satis- 
70 


fled  with  merely  se 
foreign  curiosity,  b 
pressed  a  wish  thi 
damsel  should  be  tauj 
doctrines  of  the  Gosp 
be  received  into  tin 
testant  Church  by  tl 
sacrament  of  baptism 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  word  which  fe: 
the  queen  was  not  spc 
vain.  By  the  instr' 
ality  of  some  Christifl 
sons,  the  eyes  of  I 
protectors  were  tun 
the  community  of  Ko 
where  the  Gospel  is  pr 
in  its  power,  and  its 
tutions  for  the  educa 
children  are  in  a  flo 
state. 

On  the  1st  of  Jun< 
Fatme  was  brought 
family  of  Baron  von 
to  Kornthal,  and  put  i 
Second  Female  Insti 
superintended  by  M 
Mrs.  Fecht.  The 
knowledge  which  Fat 
acquired  of  the  Germ 
guage,  was  hardly  su 
to  render  her  intellig 
those  about  her :  she 
fore  often  made  use  o: 
ing  imaftes  to  exprc 
feelings.  Here,  in  Cli 
society,  and  under  tl 
ing  )?uidanee  of  Mrs. 
the  house  mother,  a  fl 
love  to  the  Saviour  b< 
be  kindled  in  her 
especially  were  the  ] 
ing  and  instructions 
dear  pviaxox  ^\.w\3l^\,  i 
bVesamg  vo  \vftx  *.  «k> 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLiJl'8  TRBA8DRT. 


returned  home  quite  excited 
from  the  service,  and  could 
scarcely  wait  till  she  could 
express  her  joyful  feelinfrs 
to  her  kind  instructress,  **  (> 
nwther."  said  she,  **  my 
lieart  flies :  it  is  like  a  bird." 
At  another  time,  '*  O  mother, 
my  heart  drinks  as  it  were 
refreshing  water."  A  parti- 
cularly deep  impression  was 
roide  on  her  mind  at  the  firfit 
missionary  meeting  which 
»he  attended,  on  the  6th  ot 
January.  On  her  wav  home, 
she  cried  out  to  the  house- 
mother, *'  O  mother,  I  must 
pro  to  my  country,  and  tell 
them  of  the  God  whom  they 
have  in  Europe."  Her  min- 
ister once  declared,  that 
Fatrae  was  one  of  those  rare 
instances  in  which  Christiati 
conduct  seemed  to  make 
greater  advunce  than  Chris- 
tian knowledge.  Towards 
the  end  of  January,  Mr. 
Staudt  wrote  to  a  Christian 
friend  at  Basle:  '*Fatme  is 
very  anxious  respecting  her 
salvation :  her  talents  are 
not  great ;  she  learns  Ger- 
man with  difficulty,  so  that 
those  unacquainted  with  her 
idiom  cannot  easily  under- 
stand her:  but  she  has  a 
cfinverted  heart.  She  is 
tully  aware  of  her  inborn 
finfulness,  and  weeps  bit- 
terly over  her  occasional 
outbreaks  of  passion ;  she 
Fexds  diligently  God*8  Word, 
little  as  she  can  at  present 
understand  it;  she  prays 
eamestiF  to  the  Lord;  bo 
tb*t  I  CAB  baptize  iter  with 


great  confidence.  The  Lord 
will  perfect  the  work  begun 
in  her."  The  dear  departed 
father  Koellner  writes  a 
month  later:  **The  maiden 
Rives  good  hope  that  the 
Saviour  has  already  com- 
menced a  work  in  her  heart, 
as  is  evidenced  by  her  con- 
duct and  feelings." 

It  was  now  a  difficult 
question  how  to  defrav  the 
expense*  of  FHtme's  educa- 
tion. Her  beloved  minister 
applied  on  her  behali'  to  the 
Missionary  Society  at  Basle; 
they  could  not,  however, 
take  the  matter  in  hand. 
Two  members  of  the  Com- 
mittee, however,  offered  to 
supply  means  tor  her  educa- 
tion for  two  years;  and  a 
hope  was  entertained  that, 
in  the  meantime,  a  suitable 
employment  might  be  found 
for  her.  These  arrange- 
ments were  made-  The 
Kev.  Mr.  Staudt  and  Mr. 
Koellner  (one  of  the  heads 
of  the  Koruihal  community) 
had  suggested  to  Baruu  vou 
MuUer  to  set  Fatme  at  li- 
berty, as  her  freedom  could 
not  t>e  purchased  in  a  coun- 
try where,  God  be  praised, 
there  was  no  dealing  in 
slaves.  By  the  intervention 
of  some  high  personages, 
Fatme  was  made  free ;  and, 
having  received  so  much 
blessing  at  Kornthal,  slie 
became  so  attached  to  it, 
that  she  could  not  think  of 
the  possibility  of  kaviti^  v^ 
H'ichout  great  sorrow. 

The  12th  day  oi  ^  uVy  U5^ 

7V 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOItAB  •  TBBASUB1 


was  to  Fatme  «  daj  of  great 
importance,  for  she  then 
reoei-ved  the  holy  sacraoient 
of  haptism. 

Daring  the  celeluration  of 
baptism,  Fatme  stood  with- 
in a  half-circle  formed  of 
her  god  fathers  and  god-- 
mothers.  ^It  was  indeed," 
sajs  an  eye-witness,  '*  a 
solemn  moment,  when  the 
fine- looking  black  heathen 
girl  was  received  by  the 
washing  of  water  as  a  mem- 
ber of  Christ  into  covenant 


with  God.-  Sh 
Pauline  JohaQD 
Out,  her  dem 
calm  and  oompc 
afterwards  coi 
her  maternal  it 
the  absence  of 
feelings  and 
whidi  she  bad 
on  former  occ 
when,  afterwar 
permitted  to  pi 
Lord's  Supper, 
ed,  "Thank  Gkx 
am  quite  a  Chri 


^iattt  digits  anb  i^sur 

'hat  do  3'ou  think  is  the  fairest  $ 
That  ever  mine  eyes  did  see  t 
Js  it  the  light  which  comes  froi 
From  evening's  beautiful  glowuig  star, 
Like  a  silver  thread  o*er  the  sea  ? 

What  do  you  think  was  the  sweetest  sound 

That  ever  greeted  mine  ear  ? 
Was  it  the  song  of  a  joyous  bird, 
Whose  voice  in  the  willow-tree  I  heard 

In  the  morning  of  the  year  ? 

A  fairer  sight  are  the  little  ones 

Who  come  to  our  Sunday  school ; 
Whose  hearts,  in  the  bloom  and  joy  of  youl 
Are  learning  to  love  the  ways  of  truth, 
And  to  walk  by  its  Golden  Rule. 

And  sweeter  than  songs  of  summer-birds 

Are  the  hymns  of  praise  they  sing. 
The  Saviour  bends  from  His  throne  of  light 
And  smiles  to  see  the  beautiful  sight, 
While  angels  mingle  notes  of  delight 
With  the  offering  of  prala^  Ih^y  bring. 


72 


fll 


I  davs  orgKtl  bleuing.    She 
OHiPTOR  V.  I  fgi(  herwlf,  however,  ■Irerfy 

Bule  FaoUiM  wu  !  attack^  by   IUiimb   durlDK 
recelred  In  the  be-  j  the     mitaionar;     fenW■^>. 
lo'ed  Jioow  o^/ier  ;  An  *ged  matron  wto  occa- 
god  -  fmtbw,     Mr.  j  pied  the  lame  chumbeT  »pe^* 
wJun  *b«  fpent  /  Ja  ibe  highett  wimm  ot  *• 


THB  SABBHTH  S0ROLAS*S  TSBAtUmT. 


filial  feeling  of  this  elect  child 
of  God  towards  her  heavenly 
Father.  Everj  morning  and 
evening  she  continued  a  very 
long  time  in  prayer.  How 
much  communion  had  this 
Galla  girl  on  her  knees 
with  the  Friend  of  her  soul  I 
Immediately  after  the  fes- 
tivals, her  god-father  went 
to  a  summer  residence  at 
Riehen,  a  village  ahout  an 
hour's  distance  from  Basle ; 
and  slie  accompanied  him. 
It  was  only  by  great  efforts 
that  she  had  been  able  to 
attend  the  meetings  at  Basle 
and  Beuggen,  and  her  weak- 
ness now  increased  rapidly. 
The  daughter  of  the  house, 
whom  Pauline  called  her 
aunt,  and  who  loved  her 
much  and  sincerely,  per- 
suaded her,  soon  after  her 
arrival,  to  accompany  a  ser- 
vant of  the  Lord  as  far  as  the 
frontier  of  the  Grand  Duchy 
of  Baden.  She  could  scarcely 
ftaai  weakness  go  this  short 
distance,  and  wtm  obliged  te 
rest « long  timeoo  tbe  read. 
Ob  her  way  back,  at  the  en- 
trance of  Kieben,  she  noticed 
an  inscription  which  the 
deceased  owner  of  a  country 
house  had  caused  to  be 
written  in  an  arbour  of  the 
garden.  It  is  a  verse  of  P^ul 
Gerhard^s  precious  hymn : 
''  Commend  thy  ways  and  all 
that  ails  thine  heart."  As 
tbe  verse  was  so  expressive 
of  ber  own  case,  she  asked 
that  it  should  be  repeated  to 
Aer  several  times.  From  that 
time  thekjam  waa  continu- 
86 


ally  before  her  mind 
was  especially  refresh 
the  sixth  verse : — 

"  Oh,  let  Him  do  and  gOTi 
Prince  Counsellor  is  He 
Who  all  things  is  dispos! 
That  thou  aniaxed  shalt 
When  He,  what  now  in 

ing. 
Gives  trouble  to  thy  sou 
By  His  own  wondrous  or 
Shall  perfiBot  out  the  wh 

She  found  great  diflSci 
learning  these  verse 
shewed  great  persevi 
in  doing  so :  this  hym 
a  help  to  bring  her  to 
willingly  her  Lord^s  gr: 
leading.  She  also  took 
delight  in  the  hynn 
ZInzendorf,  '^Jesus,  go 
me  on  the  way  of  life ! 
committed  it  to  me 
Partly  for  the  sake  o 
recovery,  partly  also  tc 
her  the  work  c^a  deac 
her  god-father  placed ! 
the  Institution  of  the 
conesses.  It  soon  b 
apparent  that  she  waa 
rather  to  spend  her  1 
missionary  work,  than 
care  of  the  sick:  al 
pressed  herself  moat  i 
ediy  on  this  point, 
neither  the  one  nor  the 
was  to  be  her  lot;  an 
experienced,  with  hea 
gratitude,  in  the  Dc 
esses*  House  at  Riehei 
benefit  resulting  item  < 
tian  young  women  dei 
themselves  to  a  self-de 
care  of  the  sick  for  the 
ot  KxTiv  "wYic^  \<^oV  M-^w 
ae\i  OUT  «\iv«  vJviV.  q^ 


TMB  ■▲BBATM  MWOI.AXli  TABAMJBT. 


OnthciethofJHly 
ihe  was  taken  iato  ^Tlie 
Filgrim'a  Affylum,"  as  tbia 
inititation  U  called.  When 
ihe  first  entered  the  room 
which  was  appointed  for  her, 
Aa  looked  round  with  a 
remarkablj  thoaghtful  gaze, 
u  if  she  foreboded  that  she 
vould  here  close  her  short 
earthly  pilgrimage.  For  the 
fintfew  days  she  was  able 
to  be  oat  much,  and  enjoyed 
bebg  in  the  garden  of  the 
inititution.  At  first  her 
indisposition  was  considered 
to  be  a  slight  gastric  fever ; 
sad  she  herself  was  quite 


vnconscious  that  a  deeper 
disease  lay  within  her.  After 
a  few  days^  however,  she 
took  to  her  bed,  to  rise  up 
again  no  more:  a  chest- 
cough,  the  forerunner  of  con- 
sumption, was  added  to  the 
gastric  fever.  The  physician 
himself  did  not  at  first  think 
seriously  of  her  indisposition. 
She,  however,  said  one  day, 
**  1  may  very  likely  go  into 
a  consumption,  since  I  often 
suffered  from  cough  and  pain 
in  my  chest  when  at  Korn- 
thai.  By  all  means,  if  God 
so  wills  I  It  is  all  right  for 
me.** 


®fef  S^ncxeUt  ^mit 


[N  tke  vestibule  of  St. 
Peter's,  at  Rome,  is 
a  doorway  which  is 
walled  vp  and  marked  with 
a  cross :  it  is  opened  but  fbur 
times  in  a  century.  On 
Christmas  Eve,  once  in 
twentj^five  years,  the  Pope 
approaches  it  in  princely 
ttate,  with  the  retinue  of 
cardinala  in  attendance,  and 
begins  the  demolition  of  the 
door  by  striking  it  three 
times  with  a  silver  hammer. 
When  the  passage  is  opened 
tlie  multitude  pass  into  the 
nave  of  the  Cathedral,  and 
up  to  an  altar,  by  an  avenue 
wbi£sb  the  majonty  of  them 
M9wer  ^atend  thus  be^re, 


and  never  will  enter  thus 
again. 

Imagine  that  the  way  to 
the  throne  of  grace  was  like 
the  Porta  SautOj  inaccessible 
save  once  in  a  quarter  of  a 
century  on  the  26th  Decern* 
her,  and  then  only  with  au- 
gust solemnities,  conducted 
by  great  dignitaries  in  a  holy 
city.  Conceive  that  it  were 
now  ten  years  lince  you,  or 
I,  or  any  other  sinner,  had 
been  permitted  to  pray ;  and 
that  fifteen  long  years  must 
drag  themselves  away  before 
we  could  venture  again  to 
approach  God ;  and  iXiaX  tX 
most  we  could  not  Vvov^  V> 
pny  more  than  two  ot  iVvt^e 


THB  BABBATH  BOHOLAR'B  THBASUmT. 


times  in  a  lifetime  !  With 
what  solicitude  we  should 
wait  for  the  coming  of  that 
holy  day  I  We  should  lay 
our  plans  of  life,  select  our 
houses,  choose  our  profes- 
sions, form  our  friendships, 
with  reference  to  a  pilgrim' 
age  in  that  twenty-fifth  year. 
We  should  reckon  time  by 
the  openings  of  that  sacred 
door ;  no  other  one  thought 
would  engross  so  much  of 
our  lives,  or  kindle  our  sen- 
sibilities so  intensely,  as  the 
thought  of  prayer.  It  would 
be  of  more  significance  to  us 
than  the  thought  of  death  is 
now  ;  it  would  multiply  our 
trepidation  at  the  thought 
of  dying.  Fear  would  grow 
to  horror  at  the  idea  of  dying 
before  that  year  of  jubilee. 
No  other  questions  would 
give  us  such  tremors  of  anx- 
iety as  these  would  excite  1 
How  many  years  now  to  the 
time  of  prayer  ?  How  many 
months  ?  how  many  weeks  ? 
how  many  days?  Shall  we 
live  to  see  it?  Who  can  tell? 


Yet  on  that  gre 
amidst  an  innu 
throng,  in  a  court 
sence,  within  sight  a 
ing  of  stately  rit< 
would  prayer  he  wort 
Who  would  value 
comparison  with  th 
moments,  in  which 
can  "find  God"  ev 
and  every  where 
day  would  be  more 
day  of  judgment  to 
like  the  sweet  mi 
converse  with  **  Our 
which  we  may  no 
every  iiour.  We 
appreciate  this  pri^ 
hourly  prayer,  if  it  w 
taken  from  us.  Sh 
not? 

"Still  withTbee.  ou 

I  would  deaire  to  be  ; 

By  day,  by  night,  at  hom 

1  would  be  btill  with  ' 

With  Thee  amid  the 
That  throngs  the  bus 
To  hear  Thy  voice,  mi( 
loud, 
8p  eak  softly  to  my  h 

—The, 


88 


had  been   raining  I  this  time— no  pla; 
for  several  days,  and    doors,    and    little 
Paul  had  been  kept  \  At  \aftV  otv«  moxt 
bu»y  At  Bchool   aU  \  cVouda    (^\e«x^^ 


IBM  lABBATH  MHOIJkR  •  TBSAIUBT. 


sbone,  and  when  Paurs 
gnadmamnia  called  him  up, 
oh,  what  fuii  he  and  Carlo 
expected  to  have!  Paul 
was  a  little  boy  who  prayed. 
He  did  not  allow  the  glad 
looks  of  the  world  out  of 
doors  to  take  all  his  atten- 
tion; he  knelt  down  and 
ttked  Giod  to  keep  him  His 
child  all  day,  and  make  him 
obedient  to  his  dear  good 
grandmother,  who  took  oare 
of  the  little  orphan.  To 
Khool  he  ran;  at  school  he 
tried  to  study  hard,  only  he 
coald  not  help  every  now 
and  then  looking  out  on  the 
common  and  thinking  of 
noontime. 

After  school  he  scampered 
home  to  get  Carlo,  with  a 
couple  of  boys  at  his  heels. 
Grandmother  heard  him,  and 
8he  called,  »*  Paul  I  Paul  1  ** 
Paul  went  to  her,  and  ohl 
she  had  a  big  skein  of  wool- 
len firkin  to  hold  I  Poor 
Paul!  poor  Carlo  I  What 
did  the  little  boy  do  ?    The 


boys  at  the  door  heard  what 
was  going  on,  and  they 
whispered  pretty  loud, 
"Come,  come!  tell  your  old 
grandmother  you  want  to  go 
out  and  play  !  *'  Carlo,  too, 
wagged  his  tail,  as  muclf  as 
to  8ay,  **  Yes,  that  is  it,  little 
master!"  It  was  a  timgh 
struggle  for  poor  Paul. 
What</k/hedo? 

**  Grandmother  Jirst"  said 
he,  stoutly ;  **  my  play  can 
wait  better  than  her  spin- 
ning-wheel." 

Grandmother  winds  her 
ball  rather  slowly  for  a  boy 
who  wants  some  fiin.  But 
no  matter.  He  is  deter- 
mined to  be  patient,  for 
well  he  remembers  she  is 
as  good  a  grandmother  as 
ever  was  to  him. 

The  sweet  spirit  of  obed- 
ience runs  like  a  golden 
thread  through  the  daily 
life  of  the  little  boy,  and  so 
very  sweetly  their  lives 
un  w  ind  together.  —  Child's 
Paper, 


®ales  of  Hit  §^mt^  §^m  |slanbs. 


THB  EXILB. 

ERY  soon  the  little 
Mission      station, 
with     such     rude 
wealth    as  it   had,  became 
an  object  of  covetous  desire 
tmong  the  chiefs.    Darker 
and  darker s^  w  their  rivalry 
/  /iar  the  protection  of  the  min" 


sionary  property,  till  at  last 
open  war  ensued,  and  in 
the  bloodshed  and  ruin  the 
devoted  band,  flying  from 
friends  and  enemies  alike, 
were  at  last  driven  in  to  exile. 
Every  trace  of  the  station 
was  swept  away,  and  m\^Q^ 
the  \oy^\y  island  of  TaYv\X\ 
vas  again  a  blank  m  iti« 


TEFB  9ABBATB  SOHOLABTV  TmSAtian 


Christian  xntLp,  Goo^  men*8 
hopes  were  dashed  to  the 
ground,  and  on  the  fine 
ftcene  of  so  many  hoptts> 
blackened  ruins  verv  all 
that  stood  up  to  tell  the  tale. 

TBE  BBTURN. 

Two  years  after,  Pomare 
began  to  yearn  for  the  white 
teachers  tor  set  foot  on  his 
shores-Rgain,  and  five  of  them 
accordingly,  in  revived  hope 
at  the  tidings,  left  New 
South  Wales,  where  they 
had  taken  refuge,  and  re- 
turneck.  Pomare  was  recalled 
tu  the  chieftainship  of  tlie 
whole  island.  God*s  Spirit, 
it  appeared,  was  pricking 
biia  to  the  heairt,rand  the  old 
lesions  he  hsKl  learned  from 
the  Gospel  began  to  shew 
tlielr  fruit.  He  inquired, 
was  anxious,  inquired  again, 
and  finally,  after  long  and 
deep  trial,  he  was,  at  his  own 
request,.  baptisKd  into  the 
Christian  Church.  The 
name  of  Christ  was  set  on 
his  swarthy  bfrow,  and  with 
that  strange  liglkt  struck,  it 
seemed  at  length  tlie  dark- 
ness wa-s  altout  from>  the 
beamteone  island  le  roll 
away.  A  great  awakening 
fkrflowed.  Idola  and  temples 
o^   cid    worship    were   de- 

90 


lowed  in  the  ste 
—and  the  gzor 
praise  and  pray< 
as  if  the  crosa 
in  the  soH  of 
and  sufe. 

THE  VttikTE 
THlCli 

One  day  Mr. 
the  aRfMsionarie 
a  poor  native, 
praying  in  a  c 
thicket.    It  wf 
sound  -*•  this 
prayer  he  had 
to  —  poured  oi 
glowing  words 
not    contain 
burst  into  teai 
breaking  throu 
he  clapped   th 
child  of  God  1 
He,  and  that  ti 
jusit  coming  int 
they  were  bro 
blood  of  Jesus! 

A  FUNKRi 

The  little  CI 
numbers.  To 
were  added 
Among  these  « 
Patii,  who  had 
and  who  openl. 
meant  to  bui 
The  time  was 
great  ctotii 
\beVvo\d    tV« 


TBB  MAMBLTm  BOHOLAX't  TBBABOmY. 


Shortly  before  sunset  a  light 
vas  applied  to  the  pUe,  and 
Patii  stripped  them  of  their 
oniMDeiits  one  by  one,  and 
cast  tliem  into  the  fir& — ealK 
ing  each  by  name,  unfolding 
tlie  pedigree  of  each,  and 
telling  all  that  each  in  turn 
was  ft  poor  useless  god, 
msbleto  save  itself  I  The 
Kene  was  hailed  vith  ap- 
phuse — and  Dagon  after 
l^agon  was  eaat  down. 
IVtii,  the  bold  priest^  be* 
ctme  an  ardent  pupil  in  tbe 
Christian  school. 

GASMKMTS  ROLLED  IN 
BLOOD. 

Tet  again  the  storm  ga^ 
thered.  Idolatry  bestirred 
itaelf,  and  an  armed  host 
rose  against  the  missionary 
labours.  For  a  time  the  white 
men  and  their  converts  were 
driven  off  Tahiti  again,  and 
on  their  ventttring  to  return 
tiieur  escape  was  narrow 
indeed.  Noiselessly  the  fbe 
assembled  in  the  dork  woods, 


and  on  a  Sabbath-day,  m  hile 
tbe  quiet  worship  of  God 
was  proceeding  in  the  Mis- 
sion chapel,  out  the  savage 
throng  burst,  hounding  each 
other  on  with  demon  yells. 
But  the  worshippers  liad 
come  armed,  and  when  tbe 
onslaught  was  made,  a  despe- 
rate fight  took  plaee.  Not  a 
few  on  both  sides  were  slain ; 
and  after  a  long  struggle,  at 
last  the  idolaters  were  drhren 
back  and  utterly  broken. 
Pomare  and  his  party  tri- 
umphed ;  and  as  a  mark  of 
what  the  mercy  of  Christ 
had  already  wrought  in  them, 
it  was  noted  that,  instead  of 
mangling  the  wounded  and 
the  dead,  as  in  heathen  days 
had  been  their  wont,  they 
spaced  and  tended  the  one, 
and  solemnly  buried  the 
other.  The  Gospel  in  Tahiti 
had  DOW  received  its  ancient 
baptism  of  blood,  and  it  was 
about  (as  in  other  lands), 
under  that  watering,  to  grow 
into  a  nobte  tree. 


O W  can  3rou  do  the  most  good  ?  **  asked  a  lady 
of  a  little  girU 

^"•By  beijig  mybbut  just  as  good  a  girl  aft  1 
cao  be,** 


^l^f^INZBNDORF,  when  I  Christ,  and  ii 
^1^   ft  bo7,  used  to  wiiie    of   that   frieadBhlp   a 
^g^n   "^'iB  notes  to  the  |  dailj  uilHce,  that  once, 
Saviour  ,^^  travel 

and   throw 

them     out _Lj^       .^^^^:.  back 

at  the  w  n 


frieudahip  ol  j  uudibly TAe  Siitl  He 


^e  llotoers  of  t|e  liarlira. 

A   BTOBT. 

(CWinwif  from  page  76.) 
MffiiegN  ever/  tide  I  law  I  ke«p  away  (he  evil  ic 
|l^^  more  beau  ties  than  la  spite  of  oil  their 
@S^^  I  can  describe ; —  some  of  the  plnati  mou 
daidei,  oow<lip«,  primroses,  [  growin  tiiewaythej'de 
along  with  more  UDCommon  they  would  Iwnd  their 
flowera,  and  I  perceived  gar-  I  and  twist  their  gtall 
denenat  worlc  iaallcornerB  that  I  almost  wood ei 
of  the  garden.  I  watched  [he  patience  of  the 
them,  and  I  Mw  how  they  denera. 
removed  every  weed  that  |  1  perceived  that  it  v 
might  injure  the  planti,  how  general  the  largest  am 
carefully  they  tied  up  those  '  eat  plants  who  persill 
that  required  support,  and  \  growing  in  their  own 
bor  diligeatly  they  tried  to  \  and   ^6ik\i%   i-^w    « 


THB  SABBATH  MHOLA&'B  TBBASURT. 


/ 


offered  to  them;  and  I 
thought  how  soon  their 
lofty  heads  would  be  laid 
lov  were  a  storm  of  wind  to 
come,  and  how  thej  would 
then  regret  their  folly. 

« AUs,"  said  Flora, «« they 
know  not  that  this  calm 
sunshine    will    not    always 

None  pleased  me  more 
than  a  sweet  bed  of  modest 
violets  growing  in  the  shade, 
and  the  lovely  lily  of  the 
valley  peeping  out  from 
amidst  its  green  leaves.  I 
looked  at  Flora,  and  she 
smilingly  said,  ^*They  are 
street  and  pleasant  children, 
and  all  the  sweeter  from 
their  modesty  and  humility ; 
they  think  so  little  of  them- 
selves, that  it  is  a  pleasure 
to  tend  and  cultivate  them ;" 
and  I  saw  that  her  garland 
was  composed  of  many  of 
these  humble  flowers. 

At  length  we  came  to  a 
hed  of  rose-bushes,  and  Flora 
•topped  beside  it.  "See," 
she  said,  "how  many  buds 
of  promise  I  have  here,  and 
hov  beautiful  this  bud  will 
look  when  they  all  burst 
forth,  and  yet  they  will  not 
all  have  lovely  flowers.  The 
roae  is  one  of  my  special 
Ujoarite^  and  yet,  even 
taoog  tucb,  I  bare  cause 


of  grief.  Do  you  not  see 
the  destroying  insect,  though 
it  tries  to  conceal  itself?" 
As  Flora  spoke,  she  gently 
pushed  open  the  leaves  of 
one  of  the  unfolding  buds, 
and  shewed  me  a  large  green 
caterpillar  in  the  heart  of 
the  flower. 

"  This,"  said  Flora,  "is  the 
great  enemy  of  my  chil- 
dren's happiness.  We  try  to 
counteract  tlie  evil,  and,  as 
long  as  we  can,  we  tend  even 
the  plants  which  yield  to  its 
influence.  But  if  they  will 
cherish  it  within  them — if 
they  will  not  imbibe  the 
water  by  which  alone  it  can 
be  destroyed  —  they  must 
wither  and  die  at  last.  And 
I  grieve  to  think  that  my 
loving  care  may  be  in  vain. 
My  only  comfort  is  that 
those  whom  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  guarding  here  will 
be  for  ever  safe  in  the  gar- 
den to  which  they  will  ere 
long  be  transplanted.  And 
now  I  have  only  my  chil- 
dren of  the  forest  to  shew 
you,  some  of  whom  are  more 
worthy  of  my  attention  than 
this  my  ungrateful  rose- 
tree." 

I  saw  a  dew-drop  sparkle 

in  Fioni's  eye  as  she  \ed  m^ 

tonrards    the   hedge   ^ViieYi 

hounded    the    gairden,  awd 

9% 


pointed  out  to  ne  the  little 
wild-flowera  growing  on  the 
other  side.  ^*  These,"  she 
said,  '^have  not  been  much 
cultivated :  they  have  all 
the  advantage  of  the  sun- 
shine  and  the  rain,  but  my 
gardeners  only  occasionaliy 
attend  to  them,  and  yet  see 
how  fi'esh  their  leaves,  and 
bow  bright  their  flowers,  not- 
vdthstanding  the  surround- 
ing weeds:  they  will  be 
taken  into  my  garden  some 
day  soon,  and  if  they  prove 
as  grateful  and  pleasing  as 
they  now  seem,  they  wUl  be 
fit  at  last  to  bloom  among 
the  fairest  of  my  flock.** 

"Now,"  said  Flora,  "I 
must  hasten  to  my  labours— 
have  you  anything  more  to 
ask,  for  the  day  is  passing 
on?" 

♦•  Wbeie,"  I  said,  "is  that 
still  more  beautiful  garden 
of  which  you  have  8x>oken 
so  often?  I  would  gladly 
see  it." 

"It  is  not  for  me  to  shew 

it  you,"  Flora  replied.    "  In 

that    celestial    garden    my 

preeenoe  is  not  needed ;  when 

once  they  enter  there,  my 

precious  flowers  require  no 

more  tending ;  they  are  safe 

from  storms  and  cold  winds, 

Mnd  the  evil  inaecVB  power, 

^nd   tbev  bloom   fox   ever 
94 


in  unftiding  beauty.  Look 
up,**  sbe  added,  pointing  to 
a  bright  light  in  the  sky 
above  me;  and,  as  I  gaieil. 
Florals  form  vanished  irom 
my  sight,  and  I  seemeil  to 
be  transported  to  a  still 
more  briUiaat  and  glorious 
scene. 

It  was  but  faiut  glimpses 
that  I  got  of  it,  through  the 
doud  in  which  I  felt  myself 
enveloped,  but  what  I  did 
see  was  beautiful  beyond 
description.  Flora's  gardea 
seemed  to  fade  from  my 
view  before  the  brilliancy  of 
the  one  I  now  beheld ;  here 
were  crystal  rivers,  and 
sonny  fountains,  and  shady 
groves;  and  on  all  sides 
groups  of  most  beautiful 
flowers,  perfect  in  fbrm,  and 
delicious  in  sweetness. 

"Flowers  of  all  hue,  and.  without 
thorn,  the  roee.** 

At  first  I  hardly  recog^iied 
them  to  be  of  the  same 
nature  as  those  I  had  so 
lately  seen,  but  a  nearer 
glance  shewed  me  that  they 
were  the  same,  only  purified 
from  everything  that  cevld 
mar  their  beauty,  and  made 
fit  to  adorn  the  garden 
of  their  heavenly  Master. 
Here  were  no  blighted  bods 
\  —no  fiM^led  \ev»«a\  «3i!i  ^%a 


TPJi  lABBATB  SOBOLAR'S  TEBASUBT. 


perfect  The  soft  air  fanned 
their  richly  coloured  robes, 
and  was  filled  with  the 
sweet  incense  which  thej 
breathed  forth.  And,  ss  I 
looked,  I  saw  One  who 
wilked  in  the  mtdst  of  them, 
and  He  wore  in  Hia  bosom 
the  lilj  of  the  valley,  and 
homble  violet,  which  I  had 
loved  so  well ;  and  I  rejoiced 
that  these  little  ones  were 
honoured  to  bloom,  in  the 
garden  of  their  Lord. 

At  length  the  brightness 
of  the  scene  became  too 
dazzling  for  me,  and,  as  I 
tried  to  turn  my  eyes  away, 
I  awoke  from  my  dream! 


Our  young  readers  will 
probably  be  able  to  trace  for 
tbemselvea  the  lesson  which 
this  little  allegory  teaches. 
Flora,  the  queen  of  flowers, 
is  indeed  an  Imaginary  per- 
son entirely;  but  the  garden, 
and  the  flowers,  and  the 
care  bestowed  on  them  by 
the  gardeners,  as  well  «s 
the  object  of  their  cultiva- 
tion,  are  emblems  to  us  of 
higher  things. 

They  shew  us  how  chil- 
dren in  a  Christian  land  are 
more  or  less  carefully  taught 
and  trained  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  like  plants  in  a  well 
f   watered  garden^  and  how. 


unless  the  Lord  of  the  gar- 
den takes  them  away  in 
infancy  from  the  evil  to 
come,  they  must  all  go  forth 
at  last  into  the  world,  and 
prove,  amid  its  trials  and 
temptations,  whether  their 
early  instruction  has  indeed 
been  tlie  means  of  leading 
them  into  the  fold  of  the 
Good  Shepherd. 

Let  all  little  ones  remem- 
ber that  the  love  of  sin  is  in 
their  hearts,  like  the  green 
insect  destroying  the  beau- 
teous rose,  and  let  them  seek 
the  dews  of  God*s  heavenly 
grace  to  enable  them  to 
conquer  the  enemy  of  their 
souls. 

Jesus  says,  '^Unto  every 
one  that  hath  shall  be 
given;"  and  those  whose 
hearts  are  renewed  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  and  who 
begin  early  to  exhibit  the 
buds  and  blossoms  of  Chris- 
tian gmces,  80  beautiful  to 
behold  in  childhood,  shall, 
year  by  year,  be  strength- 
ened by  their  Saviour  to 
bring  forth  **raore  fruit," — 
watered  and  nourished  by 
showers  from  on  high,  they 
shall  grow  up  as  lovely 
flowers  in  His  garden  on 
e/irrh,  and  shall  at  laat  \^ 
transplanted  to  bloonv  fox 
ever  in  the  Paradise  above. 

95 


THB  f  ABBATH  BOHOLAB'B  TBBABUBT. 


Benighted  once  where  Alpine  storms 
Have  buried  hosts  of  martial  forms, 
Halting  with  fear,  benumbed  with  cole 

While  swift  the  avalanches  rolled ; 

Shouted  our  guide,  with  quivering  breath, — 

**  The  path  is  lost!  to  move  is  death!" 

The  savage  snow- cliffs  seemed  to  frown. 
The  howling  winds  came  fiercer  down ; 
Shrouded  in  such  a  dismal  scene, 
No  mortal  aid  whereon  to  lean. 
Think  you  what  music  'twas  to  hear, — 
"  / see  the  Cross!  our  waif  is  clear!" 

We  looked,  and  there,  amid  the  snow, 
A  simple  cross  of  wood  uprose ; 
Firm  in  the  tempest's  awful  wrath. 
It  stood  to  guide  the  traveller's  path, 
And  point  to  where  the  valley  lies 
Serene  beneath  the  summer  skies. 

One  dear  companion  of  that  night 
Has  passed  away  from  mortal  sight ; 
He  reached  his  home  to  droop  and  fade, 
And  sleep  within  his  native  glade ; 
fiut  as  his  fluttering  hand  I  took. 
Before  he  gave  his  farewell  look. 
He  whispered  from  his  bed  of  pain, — 
**  The  Alpine  Cross  I  see  again!" 
Then,  smiling,  sank  to  endless  rest 
Upon  his  weeping  mother's  breast ! 

J.  C.  F] 


K|mi  whatdiligence  jealooBly  do  they  guard 
search  i  ihem,  when  oDce  posieeied! 
liidiien  '  Now  God  has  Hi«  "jactk" 
>  that  lie  in  the  deplhi  |  too.  Once  tliey  Uy  ne- 
of  earth  and  lea  \  WhiLt  a  glecled,  coTered  wtih  fiVOij 
l>rice  the^  will  Bometiniea  ,.  Jtobs;  but  He  wughv  mi  ^ 
/  fj  to  obtain  tbew!  How  :  saved  them.  He  redeemed. 
. ^_____  ttl 


THB  BABBATB  80HOLAB*S  TSBASUXT. 


tbem,  not  with  silver  or 
gold,  but  with  the  precious 
blood  of  Christ;  and  He 
watches  over  them  with 
affectioDate  care.  Tes,  when 
God  looks  down  upon  this 
sinful  world,  there  are  some 
upon  whom  His  eye  rests 
with  peculiar  lore.  He  calls 
them  *'  my  jewels  "  (Malachi 
iii.  17). 

Among  precious  stones 
there  is  great  variety.  There 
are  the  diamond,  the  pearl, 
the  ruby,  and  many  more. 
But,  though  God*8  *' jewels" 
may  differ  in  some  respects, 
in  others  they  are  all  alike. 
They  may  be  young  or  old, 
rich  or  poor,  but  they  all 
trust  in  Jesus  as  their 
Saviour— they  all  love  God 
—they  are  all  afraid  to 
commit  sin— they  all  take 
pleasure  in  prayer.  It  is 
only  euch  whom  God  calls 
^  my  jewels.** 

"  3/y  jewels.^  By  nature 
they  are  not  '*  jewels"  at  all, 
but  sinners,  vile  and  worth- 
less. They  must  first  under- 
go a  thorough  change,  and 
there  is  only  one  way  in 
which  this  change  can  be 
effected.  ''If  any  man  be 
in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  crea 
iitre."  1 1  is  only  after  sinners 
hare  been  created  anew  that 
Gad  calls  tbem  **  my  jewels** 


However,  though  d 
in  nature,  though  was 
the  blood  of  Christ 
possessing  an  exc< 
they  never  had  befon 
rough  and  dim  are 
"jewels"  still  I  The 
costly  diamond  is  not 
glitter  in  a  king*8  d: 
till,  under  the  skilful 
of  the  lapidary,  it  hai 
carved  and  polished, 
so  it  is  with  God*8  **  jc 
They  must  be  made  ' 
to  be  partakers  of  t1 
heritance  of  the  sai: 
light."  Everything  t 
unholy  must  be  taken 
Everything  that  is  goi 
beautiful  roust  be  wi 
in  them — "love,  joy, 
long-suffering,  gent 
goodness,  faith,  mec 
temperance."  These  c 
graces  with  which 
"jewels"  sparkle,  am 
the  Holy  ISpirit  wh( 
duces  them.  He  re 
every  defilement  and 
defect.  The  process  J 
dual,  sometimes  painf 
hard  to  bear  (like  the 
ing  and  cutting  of  a 
but  always  merciful  am 
And  there  is  a  prom 
cheer  them  throughout 
"  They  shall  he  mine,  so 
Lord  of  /losts^  in  that  da. 
\  1  make  vp  mij  je^Jc«iU^* 


TBB  ftABBATH  ■OBOLlVl  TBSAlUmT. 


""That  dag."  What  a 
iriorioas  day  !  A  claster  of 
jewels  on  a  crown  of  gold 
is  the  mark  of  the  highest 
earthly  grandeur.  But  who 
can  imagine  the  splendour 
and  heauty  of  God's  '•jewels  " 
when  they  are  all  made  up  f 
They  will  be  a  multitude 
which  no  man  can  number. 
Not  one  forgotten  I  Not 
one  lost !  And,  blessed 
thought!  Christ  will  be  in 
the  midst  of  them.  His 
presence  will  lend  to  each 
iU  brightest  lustre.  **  That 
day."  It  will  be  but  the 
bqrinning  of  eternal  glory. 
*'They  shall  shine  as  the 
itars  for  erer  and  ever." 


God  will  «make  up**  that 
day  little  circles  of  jewels 
once  united  on  earth,  but 
long  separated.  There  will 
be  scholars  fVom  the  same 
class.  There  will  be  fatliers 
and  mothers,  brothers  and 
sisters,  who  were  wont  to 
kneel  in  prayer  together. 
How  sad  and  bitter  were 
their  partings,  as  one  after 
another  was  taken  away! 
But  their  meeting !  It  will 
be  '*joy  unspeakable,  and 
full  of  glory."  Of  such 
there  will  be  many  a  shining 
group.  But  what  if  some 
dear  one  should  be  awanting  f 

What  if  I ? 

A 


*'3W  i^^vi  Peaftfn/' 


/ 


{N  a  miserable  cottage, 
at  the  bottom  of  a 
hill,  two  children  ho- 
Tered  orer  a  smoul- 
dering fire.  A  tempest  raged 
without — a  fearful  tempest 
—  against  which  man  and 
beast  were  alike  powerless. 
A  poor  old  miser,  much 
poorer  than  these  shiYering 
children,  though  he  had 
heaps  of  money  at  home, 
drew  his  ragged  cloak  abi)Ut 
him  as  he  crouched  down  at 
the  tlireshold  of  the  miser- 
able door.  He  dare/i  not 
enter,  for  fetw  tbejr  would 
Msk  pMjr  for  Bhelter^  snd  ho 


could     not   moYO    for   the 
storm. 

"  I  am  hungry,  Nettie." 
•*  So  am  I ;  I  have  hunted 
for  a  potato  paring,  and  can't 
find  any.'* 
*' What  an  awful  storm!" 
**Ye8;    the    old    tree    is 
blown  down.    I  think   God 
took  care  that  it  didu*t  fill 
on  the  house.    See,  it  would 
certainly  hare  killed  us.'* 

'*If   He   could    do    that, 

couldn't  he  send  us  bread  ?" 

**  I  am  sure  He  could  \  \sl 

/  us  pray  *()ur  Father,*   axi^ 

when  we  come  to  lUat  paTt^ 

atop  till  we  get  aomeWea^^ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TBBABURT. 


So  they  began,  and  the 
miser,  crouching  and  shiver- 
ing, listened.  When  they 
paused,  expecting  in  tlieir 
childish  faith  to  see  some 
miraculous  manifestation,  a 
humane  feeling  stole  into 
his  mind;  liis  hard  heart 
was  touched  and  softened. 
He  had  bought  a  loaf  at  the 
village,  thinking  it  would 
last  him  a  great  many  days, 
but  the  silence  of  the  two 
little  children  spoke  louder 
to  him  than  the  voice  of 
many  waters.  He  opened 
the  door  softly,  threw  in  the 
loaf,  and  then  listened  to  the 
wild,  eager  cry  of  delight 
that  came  from  the  half- 
famisl^ed  little  ones. 

"It  dropped  right  from 
heaven,  didn't  it?"  ques- 
tioned the  younger. 

*<Tes;  1  shall  love  God 
for  ever,  be  is  so  good.  He 
has  given  us  bread  because 
we  asked  him." 


«We*ll    ask  Hin 
day,    won't   we?    i 
never  thought  God 
good ;  did  you  ?  " 

''Yes,  1  always 
so,  but  I  never  quite 
before." 

*'  Let  us  ask  Him 
father  work  to  do 
time,  so  we  need  i 
hungry  again.  He'l 
I'm  sure,** 

The  storm  x^sa 
miser  went  home, 
flower  had  sprung  u 
heart ;  it  was  no 
barren.  In  a  few  w 
died,  but  not  before 
given  the  cottage,  wli 
his,  to  the  poor  la 
man  And  the  littl 
ren  ever  after  ielt 
and  solemn  emotioi 
in  their  matinal  cj 
they  came  to  those 
words :  **  Give  us  t 
our  daily  bread.** — C 
Paper, 


®fee  6s*  ai  Sok 


lY  dear  children,  did 
you  ever  hear  of 
a     being     whose 
presence  is  every- 
where?    If  you  will  take 
your    Bible   and    And    the 
iwenty-fourth  verse  of  the 
twenty  third     chapter     of 
Jeremiah,  you  will  find  it  to 
read  thus :  **  Can  any  hide 
himself  in  secret  places  that 
/  shall  not  see  him  ?  saith 
tAe  Lord.    Do  not  I  fill  hea- 
100 


ven  and  earth?    sa 
Lord." 

If  there  were  a  pen 
would  follow  you  w 
you  went,  who  could 
you  in  public  and  in 
in  light  and  in  d< 
whose  eye  should  » 
every  action,  your 
exertion ;  who  move 
you  moved,  who  i 
wVien  "y  ou  %\.Qiv^e^  \  '^ 
1  wilb  yo\i«veT^'ti>a«f 


TUB  lABBATH  tOHOLAB'ft  TBaAaUBT. 


eye  was  erer  on  you,  Dot  one 
moment  withdrawn  from 
yon,  and  who  knew  not  only 
the  outward  actions  and 
conduct;  who  heard  not  only 
erery  word  that  fell  firom 
your  lipa,  but  whoae  keen 
glance  pierced  to  the  inmost 
recesses  of  your  heart,  and 
vas  conscious  of  all  the  un- 
nttered  thoughts  that  passed 
there,  would  yaa  feel  at  ease 
with  such  an  Attendant? 
Could  you  indulge  in  wicked 
thoughts,  in  sii^ul  words, 
and  unholy  actions  with  im- 
panity?  Could  you  abide 
the  piercing  glance  which 
beheld  all  your  widcedness? 
And  now,  dear  children, 
is  there  not  such  a  Being  ? 
Is  there  not  one  who  sees 
and  knows  all  your  thoughts, 
and  words,  and  ways  f  Yes, 
there  is.     It  is  God  your 


Maker.  His  eye  never  slum- 
bers nor  sleeps.  Uis  eye 
sees  you  in  public,  and  is 
fastened  upon  you  in  private. 
It  sees  you  at  midnight  and 
at  noonday.  It  marks  your 
conduct  and  your  words. 
His  eye  searches  your  hearts, 
and  tries  your  reins.  No 
covering  can  vail  you  from 
that  eye;  no  clouds  are  too 
thick  for  that  eye  to  pierce ; 
no  darkness  too  thick  for 
that  eye  to  penetrate ;  to  it 
the  night  shineth  as  the  day; 
to  it  the  darkness  and  the 
light  are  both  alike. 

Then,  dear  children,  know 
and  rcpnember  this  solemn, 
this  impressive  truth,  that 
nothing  can  hide  you  from 
the  all- seeing  eyo  of  God. 
Live  and  act  under  the  im- 
pression of  this  solemn  con- 
sideration.— S.  S»  Advocate, 


I 


B  ^0%  fli&f  mi  ilim  ffart/' 


u 


)H  !  my  dear  Lord,  I 
feel  Thy  meaning. 
My  heart  Thou 
ainiest  at:  Thy  rod  doth 
drive.  Thy  silken  cord  of 
love  doth  draw,  and  all  to 
bring  it  to  thyself.  Can 
inch  a  heart  be  worth  Thy 
having?  Make  it  so,  Lord, 
and  then  it  is  Thine;  take  it 
to  thyself,  and  then  take  me. 
As  the  feeble  child  to  the 
tender  mother,  itlooketh  up 


to  Thee,  and  stretcheth  out 
the  hands.  I  fain  would 
have  Thee  take  it  up. 
Though  I  cannot  so  freely 
say,  '*My  heart  is  with 
Thee,  my  soul  longeth  after 
Thee,**  yet  can  1  say,  "I 
long  for  such  a  longing 
heart." — Baxter. 

"Take  my  heart,  Lord,  for  Icvu. 

not  giTe  it  to  Thee ; 
Keep  it,  for  1  canuot  keep  Vl  ioT 
Thee/'—itti^^tutivte . 

101 


atirttiCT,  l»J»t  i«  fait?" 

^OTHER,  how  etill  the  bab}-  Ilea '. 

ir  his  breatb  ; 

igeya— 
They  tdl  me  Ihla  is  death. 

Hy  little  work  I  thought  to  bring, 

And  ut  down  by  bis  bed ; 
And  plesuntly  I  tried  to  sing— 

They  hiuhed  me — he  ie  dead  1 

They  tay  that  he  again  will  rlw, 

More  beaDliful  than  now; 
That  God  will  blesa  him  in  the  skiei — 

Oh,  mother,  tell  me  how !" 

"  peti((hter,  do  yon  remember,  dear. 
The  cold,  d«rk  thing  you  brought, 
And  laid  tipon  the  eBBenietiX.tiCTe, — 
A  withered  -worm,  yon  Aong^t^ 


THB  tABBATH  MBOLAB'S  TRBASUBT. 


I  told  yon  that  Almighty  power 
Could  break  that  withered  shell, 

And  shew  you,  in  a  future  hour, 
Something  would  please  you  welL 

Look  at  the  chrysalis)  my  love, — 

An  empty  shdl  it  lies ; 
Now  raise  your  wond*ring  glance  above, 

To  where  yon  insect  flies  T* 

**  Oh,  yee,  mamma !  how  very  gay 
Its  wings  of  starry  gold ! 
And  see !  it  lightly  flies  away 
Beyond  my  gentle  hold. 

Oh,  mother,  now  I  linow  full  well, 

If  Grod  that  worm  can  change, 
And  draw  it  from  this  broken  cell, 

On  golden  wings  to  range, — 

How  beantifol  will  brother  be, 
When  God  shall  give  Aim  wings. 

Above  this  dying  world  to  flee. 
And  live  with  heavenly  things !" 

Jane  Oilmax. 


^t  Ji>targ  ti  ^mdm  |atnu. 


OHAPTBB  TI. 

URING  the  first 
weeks  of  her 
sickness,  although 
weak  and  exhaus- 
d,  nlTection  induced  her 
i  write  to  her  f  ster- 
trents  in  Eornthal;  she 
»pied  the  letter  three  times, 
ti   the    second    imperfect 


cannot  come  myself,"  (she 
had  been  told  of  the  death 
of  an  inmate  of  Mrs  ^echt*8 
institution  at  Eornthal,)  and 
8  he  says,  **  I  was  not  dis- 
tressFd  at  this  mtelligence, 
but  rather  rejoiced,  as  we 
have  a  Saviour  and  a  Ke- 
deemer.  God  be  praised 
that  we  have  Him,  awl  tui^y 
go  to  Him  I    Be  comioTtie^, 


Rr/>  frrtt/e'ii,  "lam  sorry  \  dearJy-loved   mother,  \t   \% 
ilmuBt  write  again,  aa  I  \  God's  will  that  the  cYiWdten 


loa 


THB  AABBATH  tOHOULR'S  TBBAaiJST. 


should  go  from  out  of  your 
hands  to  their  (eternal)  home. 
If  they  had  been  with  their 
parent!*,  they  would  not  have 
gone  home  with  so  much 
blessing,  1  often  think  of 
Kornthal.  I  shall  still  wait 
to  see  what  the  Lord  will 
do  with  me."  She  then 
describes  her  former  las- 
situde, loss  of  appetite, 
and  cough  at  Kornthal, 
and  how  these  had  now  re- 
turned and  increased.  *"  I 
have  thought  that  I  must 
n.iw  remain  here,  if  it  be  the 
will  of  the  Lord.  I  am  very 
weak ;  and  am  now,  dear 
mother,  very  well  taken  care 
of  by  the  dear  aunt  and  sis- 
ter.** She  also  expressed  her 
gratitude  for  the  spiritual 
care  which  she  received  iu 
the  house  of  the  Deaconesses. 
One  day,  in  the  early  part 
of  her  sickness,  she  clapped 
her  hands  joyfully  and 
laughingly,  when  she  saw 
the  nurse  coming  in.  **  Do 
you  laugh  at  me,  Pauline?*' 
asked  the  Deaconess.  "  1  do 
not  laugh  at  you,"  she  an- 
swered. **I  do  not  know 
what  to  do  for  joy;  1  am 
a  child  of  God.  Oh !  you 
white  people ;  you  have  not 
so  much  joy  as  we  black! 
You  were  bom  Christians; 
1,  a  black  heathen ;  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  Saviour;  J 
now  can  die  happily ;  I  now 
have  a  Saviour ;  I  now  can 
die  happily!"  The  sister 
who  nursed  her,  sat  one  day 
bj^  her  bed^  busy  in  shelling 
besLDB,   when  the  sick  girl 

104 


said  suddenly^  ^  Deal 
will  you  go  with  me 
go  to  the  heathen?' 
Mnswered,  **!  am  mi 
weak  to  go  to  the  he 
The  sick  girl  said,  *'  J 
is  also  weak  in  unde 
ing;  but  yet  has'joj 
thought  of  being  pei 
to  lead  poor  brethrei 
Saviour.  When  th' 
heathen  see  what  tt 
Saviour  has  done  i 
that  Pauline  can  die  li 
tliey  will  rejoice.  Yc 
sister,  can  nurse  ^  I 
nurse ;  I  can  only  tel 
Saviour.**  As  she  ss 
she  raised  her  hands 
fervour:  **Odear  »^8 
she  said,  **give  the 
courage  to  go  with  na 
She  often  converse 
pleasure  to  those  aro) 
respecting  death.  ^ 
day  said  cheerfully, 
joiner  must  make  m< 
coffin,  lor  I  am  a  tall  \ 
Being  asked,  in  conve 
by  her  friend,  whetl 
were  willing  to  die  tl 
replied, '*As  God  will 
willing  to  live,  and 
to  die:  but  I  would 
live."  It  was  from  1 
sire  of  the  prolonging 
life,  and  of  her  )>erha| 
permitted  to  do  sor 
for  the  kingdou  < 
among  the  people  of  1 
country,  that  she  thu 
this  time  of  sending  t' 
thai  for  some  warm 
clothing.  She  hoped 
by  m^V(ia\  «\^  %Vv 
1  coulmue  xYvxou^v>Q 


THB  SABBATH  •OHOLAB'S  TBBASVBT. 


she  might  be  restored  to 
health  in  the  spring.  It  was 
this  des're  ot  liring  which 
caused  her  once,  when  asked 
if  she  wished  to  go  to  the 
Saviour,  to  reply,  "You 
must  not  always  ask  this 
question  of  a  sick  person** 
When  a  friend,  in  praying 
with  her  one  day,  spoke 
mach  of  her  death,  she  said 
afterwards,  **I  think  this 
perton  wishes  already  to 
make  a  funeral  oration  over 
me."  She  was  averse  to 
making  a  show  of  religion : 
•he  appeared  simply  what 
ibe  was :  therefore  when  any 
persons  were  only  talking 
religioQsly,  and  she  was  not 
in  the  disposition  to  join 
tbem,  the  would,  in  her  up- 
right and  truthful  manner, 
My  frankly,  **Not  always 
ttlkoftheSaTionrr 

She  spent  her  time  in 
mediution  on  the  Word  of 
God,  and  was  much  in  the 
exerci«e  of  prayer;  for  hours, 
especially  during  her  sleep- 
less nights,  she  was  engaged 
io  tupplications.  lliere  was 
nothing  too  great,  and  no- 
thUig  too  small  for  her  not 
to  make  it  a  subject  of 
prayer:  when  she  had  no 
appetite  lor  her  food,  she 
w<mld  say  in  her  child-like 
simplicity,  *'See,  dear  8a- 
riour,  Pauline  cannot  eat: 
please  to  grant  that  she  may 
be  aUe  to  eat  something,  if 
itbeThywiUI"  For  every 
tpooniiil  of  Soup,  when  §he 
cou}demiit,  fbe gare  thMiika, 
u  well  MS  asked  a  bleaaiog 


before  it.  With  great  fer- 
vour she  mentioned  all  her 
benefactors  in  Wirteniberg 
and  Basle,  the  doctor,  and 
all  those  who  had  shewn  her 
kindness:  she  prayed,  "Oh, 
bless,  bless,  dear  Saviour! 
thy  Pauline  is  so  poor,  she 
can  give  nothing:  God  re- 
compense, God  recompense 
them!" 

CHAPTKR  Yll. 

One  day  she  was  especially 
cheerful,  and  was  eager  to 
communicate  her  thoughts 
to  the  Deaconess:  she  had 
no  secrets  with  this  kind 
Iriend  ;  and  generally  called 
her  **dear  sister,"  frequently 
also  '*  mother."  On  one 
occasion  she  said,  **Now  1 
have  two  mothers,  one  at 
Kornthal,  the  other  in  the 
Deaconesses*  house."  'i  o 
this  f<iithful  sister  she  ex- 
pressed her  thoughts  about 
the  spiritual  care  ot  the  sick. 
'*Dear  sister,*'  she  began, 
**!  must  say  something  to 
you"  '*What.  then,  dear 
Pauline?*'  the  Deaconess  re- 
plied. ^'If  I  should  speak 
about  religion  to  a  sick  per- 
son," she  said,  **  1  would  ask, 
hast  thou  understood  ?  If 
tlie  sick  person  8aid,  Yes,  I 
would  ask,  what,  or  respect- 
ing whom  hast  thou  under- 
stood ?  If  the  sick  jterson 
said,  of  the  dear  Saviour,  I 
would  then  ask,  dost  thou 
love  him?  Then,  %\i\vi^ 
when?  and  why?  IVi^vk, 
</o8t  thou  love  Wxoi  viVtVk 
thy  whole  heart — love  WVoi 

105 


THK  ftABBATH  80HOI.AK's  TBBAftUBT. 


truly?  If  the  Bick  person 
could  not  do  this,  I  would 
tlien  say,  thou  must  pray 
very  iiervently,  that  thou 
mayest  be  able  to  love  Uim 
entirely."  She  then  said 
further  to  the  sister,  that 
**she  should  mention  such 
a  sick  person  by  name 
to  the  Saviour,  that  He 
would  grHnt  to  that  person 
thoroughly  to  love  Him." 

It  was  her  custom,  in  her 
many  thousand  prayers,  to 
mention  by  name  the  objects 
of  her  love  or  her  compas- 
sion  to  the  High  Priest  in 
heaven,  and  to  lay  before 
Him  her  wishes  and  requests 
for  them.  Her  soul  delighted 
most  in  quiet  and  secret 
communion  with  the  Lord : 
and  even  in  her  days  of 
heal  I  h  she  did  not  converse 
much.  Also  she  did  not 
like  many  visitors,  especi- 
ally those  who  were  strange 
to  her,  and  came  perhaps 
out  of  curiosity.  On  this 
account,  in  her  days  of 
health,  she  commonly  wore 
a  veil  over  her  face.  She 
used  to  say,  **  I  cannot  bear 
it,  when  people  stare  at  me 
so."  She  was  not  Milling 
that  people  should  talk  about 
her;  and  she  was  averse 
to  speaking  of  herself,  even 
when  she  was  questioned. 
She  would  only  touch  upon 
her  past  life  on  special 
occasions. 

She   was  very  courteous 

and    grateful    towards    her 

doctor,  Mnd  trequentlj  asked 

whether  he  thought  that  she 

106 


would  get  well  again? 
he  answered,  *M)ne 
now  say  anything  de 
it  would,  however,  be 
tiling  to  the  Lord  to 
you  to  health ;"  shi 
said,  quite  resignedly, 
indeed,  it  is  right  a 
orders.  I  am  willing 
if  it  be  His  will ;  I  a 
willing  to  live  loii( 
God  pleases.'*  If  sh* 
asked  how  she  was, 
the  morning,  what  f 
night  she  had,  she  ; 
answered,  **  Good, 
good:  as  God  ordert 
must  be  good."  Sh 
this  even  when  she  hi 
a  sleepless  night,  c 
much  pain,  as  in  her 
dHys  she  suffered  m 
her  right  lung.  She 
thorough  dislike  to 
cine,  but  she  compellc 
self  to  take  it  from  a 
pie  of  obedience,  ti 
could  do  so  no  long 
any  one  read  to  hei 
God's  Word,  or  praye 
her,  she  was  always 
ested  and  enlivened, 
once  a  servant  of  th< 
visited  her  at  her  n 
and  read  to  her  the  V 
filth  Psalm,  and  prayc 
her,  oh,  how  copious 
the  tears  flow  over  h€ 
face !  and  how  eames 
she  thank  him!  Sh 
ferred  the  kneeling  | 
in  prayer,  as  she  com 
it  the  most  becoming 
Christian.  If  it  ha 
that  the  old  man  brok 


TBB  lABBATH  tOHOULB't  TEBASDBT. 


I 


I 


I 


I 


patience,  she  always  counted 
it  a  siq.  If  she  thought  that 
she  had  by  a  word  or  look 
offended  the  sister  who 
waited  on  her,  she  would 
say,  ••  Forgive,  forgive  I 
The  old  Fatme  has  troubled 
tbee,  Pauline  wills  uothing 
of  it.**  It  was  evident  that 
this  dear  aick  one  was  kept 
under  the  strict  discipline  of 
God*s  Spirit,  who  stirred  her 
np  to  declare  the  truth  also 
to  others  when  they  wrong. 
U  was  about  fourteen  days 
before  her  end  that  her  nurse 
being  obliged  to  go  out,  in 
her  haste  left  the  door  open : 
a  icene  ensued  in  which  the 
sister  lost  her  temper :  when 
she  came  back  she  saw 
Pauline  in  tears,  with  her 
face  covered.  «' Dear  Pauline, 
why  are  you  so  distressed  ?  *' 
she  asked.  **  Oh,  dear  sister, 
it  is  on  your  account  that 
I  am  distressed."  «•  Why, 
then  ?"  "  You  were  so 
angry  —  no  Deaconess  so 
angry.  Ob,  that  gives  no 
good  impression  to  the  sick. 
(  love  you  much,  very 
much."  Then  she  began  to 
pray  **  Dear  Saviour,  take 
away  this  anger  from  my 
dear  sister ;  make  her  gentle, 
humble ;  so  that  she  may 
not  only  be  called  a  Deacon- 
ess, but  be  one  really."  A nd 
then  she  proceeded,  "Oh, 
tigfat,  fight  against  anger! 
1  love  you  indeed  :  the  dear 
Safiour   has  yet    much   to 


work  in  you."  On  this  and 
other  occasions  she  would 
say.  "Christians  should  tell 
each  other  of  their  faults.** 
She  took  it  also  gratefully 
when  told  of  her  own  faults. 
She  frequently  spoke  with 
great  grief  of  the  dry  and 
dead  state  of  her  heart,  and 
of  the  inward  darkness  which 
she  suffered  in  this  sickness, 
io  that  she  could  not  pray  as 
she  was  wont  to  do  formerly 
For  the  refreshment  and 
strengthening  of  her  faith 
she  partook  several  times  of 
the  holy  Sacrament,  which 
she  enjoyed  the  most  on  a 
Saturday  evening,  the  tiuie 
at  which  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  receive  it  at 
Kornthal.  She  felt  the  ne- 
cessity of  receiving  it  every 
four  weeks,  and  could  scarcely 
wait  for  the  day.  It  was 
truly  heart-touching  to  those 
around  her  to  see  with  what 
hunger  and  thirst  she  re- 
ceived the  holy  Sacrament. 
In  her  own  child-like  and 
fervent  manner  she  after- 
wards gave  thanks,  *'  O  dear 
Saviour,  how  precious  is 
Thy  blood  1  Let  all  ray 
aius  be  sunk  and  lost  in  it ! 
Dear  Saviour,  poor  Pauline 
is  not  indeed  worthy,  but 
very,  very  needy.  Oh,  I 
rejoice  to  come  to  'ITiee, 
then  may  I  be  allowed  to 
partake  of  the  great  Sup- 
per. Bless,  bless,  dear  Sa- 
viour 1 " 


107 


•aKOLUt*!  nwuDM. 


isjt!  Sirj. 


:^BE  moTed  about  the  | 
houie  like  a  aan-  I 
beam.  I  heard  her 
iinging      ai      ahe  | 


yonngeit  Invther  i 
Tlolent  tmiip^r,  and 
wajB  qaarrelinK  vld 
body;  but  he  never  q 
with 


»a;a    hap 

not      know 

what  any  of 

u*  would  do 

without 

her,"   repeated   her   eldeit 

daughter ;     and    tbe    reat 

echoed    her    wordi.      Her 


way  wrath,  but  , 
worda  atir  up  anger.'^ 
Miatngir. 


%  ^aal  %n$%tx. 


IBSk^  TOUNQ  lady  In  a 
KBH'  BabbAtfa  School,  a 
^S9^  fewmomlnK*  tlnee, 
aiked  her  claaa  bow  aoon  a 
child  should  ^ve  ita  heart 
to  God.  One  little  girl 
»aid,  "  When  thirteen  yewa 
108 


old."  Another, "  T«i 
other,  "  Six."  At 
the  laat  child  in  tht 
who  bad  hitherto  been 
spoke :  "  Joit  a*  lool 
know  who  Chriit  i*.". 


Dj  dnnia,  I  beheld  |  it  tom  a  belt  of  loftj  bllli, 
■ro  men  walk  to-  .  with  ilt^ep  ravines  cut  ia 
•tber  in  k  Urge  :  their  face,  but  »o  strong  anil 
It  wu  a  Talley  mnjeBtii;,  that  ilipy  looked  to 
xided,  very  fertile,  !  ffl«  like  -One  sinRle  mau  ot 
mitb  tbe^ikadonr  jrock  stretching  out  iU^td\e 
atublne.  Boaud  I  and  iifting  iti  head  on  l»^b. 
lOB 


TBB  SABBATH  80HOULB*S  TBBABUBT. 


In  tlie  middle  of  the  valley, 
where  it  sloped  as  into  a 
basin,  glimmered  out,  from 
among  the  dipping  foliage,  a 
glassy  sheet  of  water,  edged 
by  a  beach  of  most  beautiful 
yellow  sand. 

I  saw  the  two  men,  as  the)r 
walked  together,  looking 
curiously  about.  One  had  a 
doubtful  shade  on  his  brow ; 
the  other  was  full  of  light 
activity,  keenly  enjoying  the 
loveliness  of  all  he  looked  on, 
and  coveting  all  the  bright 
colours,  the  fair  fhi]t,and  the 
fhigrant  shade«  There  was 
no  regular  path  for  the  feet. 
Instead,  they  italked  mostly 
in  the  bed  of  dry  torrents ; 
and  the  only  things  that 
the  sadder  of  the  two  seemed 
to  heed  were  the  deep  scores 
these  channels  had  made  in 
the  soil  —  the  dark  gullies 
they  ran  into  here  and  there 
— the  ruins  of  human  habi- 
tations their  floods  had 
plainly  swept  over— and,  in 
not  a  few  places  among  these, 
gleams  of  human  boneS,  very 
terrible,  sticking  up  through 
the  sand.  These  signs  made 
the  whole  scene  to  him  one 
of  gloom  and  fear. 

In  a  little  while  the  two 

reached    the    bank    of  the 

§himDg  lake,  and,  coming 

out  of  the  thick  foliage,  they 
JIO 


stood  on  the  border 
sand.  It  felt  firm  as  $ 
and,  while  its  d 
grains  sparkled  in  t. 
the  soft  whispering 
spread  themselves  ou 
Xhe  eye,  and  the  fid] 
hmng  Itself  like  a 
coloured  robe  beyoi 
spot  in  the  wortd  eff 
dream  of  sweeter  o 
fairy- like. 

So  I  beheld  that  i 

men,  as   they  gasei 

struck  with  adnsirati 

only  the  one  of  tber 

out  with  a  cry  that  hi 

stay   there    and    bv 

dwelling  ibr  ever ;  ti 

was  fearful  and  resth 

in  his  wondefv  and  b 

say,that,whiViit#M 

of  matchlesa  beavty 

wefe  gtt«at  dmgtrs  in 

for  hii  part,  )m  «c 

back  rather  to  the  mc 

Then  there  was  a  dii 

between  them  as  to  t 

**This  sand  is  solid 

,  rock,"  Paid  the  one ; 

!  with  these  fragrant 

;  and  this  silvery  lakt 

the  eaves  of  my  housi 

;  could  I  be  happier  ?  * 

'      "  Yet  seest  thou  nc 

the  other,  "that  *tii 

summer- day  now,  an 

quiet — when  winter 

and  \Vve«e  tLQodA  T^ 


THB  SABB4TH  tOHOLAX  S  TBBASUST. 


what  will  oome  of  jont 
dwelling  then  ?  Beddes, 
mindeit  thou  not  what  the 
Lord  of  this  country  told  ut 
OB  lending  us  hither?  how 
He  warned  us  against  the 
▼alley,  and  bid  us  choose 
lather  the  strong  riick  ?  The 
loins  and  the  bone^  we  saw 
might  teach  thee  these 
Uungs." 

Hia  ocmpanlon,  however, 
woald  not  be  eonrinced,  re- 
pljring  that  these  traces  of 
fraction  were  very  old, 
sad  such  would  not  likely 
Ittppen  soon  agahi,  besides 
that  there  were  many  dwel* 
liqfi  white  and  safe  peeping 
oai,  as  might  be  seen,  all 
round  the  marftin  of  the 
Iske.  He  therefore  threw 
off  hia  upper  garment,  and 
began  to  roll  the  shining 
•tones  and  shells  together, 
that  hm  might  build  his 
hoose. 

After  standing  and  looking 
on  sadiy  for*  a  while,  the 
other  turned  him  and  began 
to  retrace  his  steps  with  all 
•peed  to  the  hills.  I  saw 
as  he  went  thai  he  looked 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to 
the  left,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
erery  now  and  then  a  Voice 
came  to  him  out  of  the  air, 
to  which,  from  the  stnuige 
£ifbt  in  big  ej^ea,  and  bit  I 


lips,  he  talked  back.  Pre- 
sently  he  reached  the  hill 
foot.  It  was  a  stem  rocky 
climb  to  look  up,  but,  as  he 
set  himself  to  It,  steps  were 
discovered  for  him  that  made 
it  easy — little  clefts  reveal- 
ed themselves  with  grassy 
nooks  and  trickling  streams, 
where  he  rested  for  a  while, 
and  when  upward  he  had 
made  his  way  many  feet, 
always  as  if  the  Voice  still 
guided  him,  he  arrired  at 
last  on  a  broad  fair  summit, 
far  above  the  flood  courses, 
and  well  known  on  account 
of  its  strength  and  safety  as 
the  **  Rock  of  Ages." 

All  about  its  cliffy  I  beheld 
many  humble  cottages  scat- 
tered, yet  very  lovely  in  their 
retreat  when  you  got  near 
them,  each  with  a  bower 
hanging  over  it  for  shelter, 
and  so  well  provided  with  a 
sweet  and  wholesome  food, 
that  on  looking  attentively 
I  even  observed  honey  drop- 
ping from  the  stony  rock. 
At  the  same  time  the  great 
boast  of  these  dwellings  was 
their  good  foundation.  Old 
men  and  children  alike  lived 
in  them  without  fear.  Often 
as  stortns  had  reged  on  the 
hills,  not  one  stone  ot  1\\q 
itx;k-bailt  dwelUngt  \iad 
ever  been  shaken. 

\\\ 


So  the  newcomer,  whom  I 
followed  in  my  dream,  set 
himself  to  build  a  house 
also,  in  which  he  was  helped 
bj  a  hundred  willing  neigh- 
bours, who  shewed  him  first 
how  to  dig  down  to  the  rock 
for  foundation,  then  out  of 
the  rock  to  choose  his  stones, 
then  how  to  lay  them  line 
upon  line,  to  cement  them 
with  a  cement  of  great  hard- 
ness, and  to  rear  them  up  so 
that  when  all  was  done  it 
looked  as  if  the  house  had 
been  not  built  upon,  but 
literally  a  part  of,  the  rock. 
Then  it  was  furnished  for 
him  and  stored  with  food: 
and  in  the  flush  of  sundown 
one  eyening  after  all  his  toil, 
and  after  he  bad  dismissed 
his  kind  neighbours  with 
thanks,  he  sat  down  at  his 
cottage  door  and  began  to 
think  back  over  each  step  of 
his  work,  and  to  compare  it 
with  what  he  read  in  a  great 
Book  he  held  open  on  his 
knee,  as  well  as  to  speak 
into  the  air  with  the  Voice 
of  the  Invisible  One. 

As  he  did  so  I  noticed  that 
he  looked  down  into  the  val- 
ley, and  his  eye  wandering 
along  its  line  of  beauty  rested 
on  the  shore  of  tlie  lake 
where  there  now  rose  the 
dwelling  of  big  friend*  white 


as  snow  in  the  setting  sun. 
He  had  the  power  given  bin 
to  draw  it  near  to  him  in 
vision,  so  that  he  could  en- 
mine  the  light  and  airy 
walls,  the  diamond  shells 
set  in  them,  the  curve  of 
rippling  waters,  and  his 
companion  walking  on  the 
hard  sand,  as  minutely  as  if 
all  had  been  within  the  reach 
of  a  few  feet.  Everything 
looked  more  still  and  happy 
than  ever,  while  the  lake 
sands  swarmed  with  many 
groups,  and  boats  every- 
where flashed  upon  its  waves. 
But  as,  sighing,  he  lifted  up 
his  gaze,  suddenly  he  behdd 
a  cloud  no  bigger  than  a 
man*8  hand  on  the  edge  of 
the  pure  sky.  It  was  at  If 
it  had  come  up  out  of  tlie 
far  off  sea,-^with  a  ragged 
blackness  and  a  swifk  en- 
largement it  spread  upon 
the  heavens, — all  the  iilUs 
and  valley  it  made  dark 
with  shadow,. and  in  a  few 
minutes  you  would  have 
been  amazed  to  see  the  sun- 
shine blotted  out,  to  hear 
the  thunder  begin  to  growl 
among  the  mountains,  and 
the  plash  of  the  great  rain- 
drops as  they  fell.  Tlie 
watcher  sat  at  his  cottage 
door  in  deep  awe.  Soon  the 
wind  lose  \u  f;QA\v>^*^  ^Oba 


TBM  lABBATH  MBOLAB's  TRSA8UKT. 


many  beasts  of 
Tain  poured  in 
nd  out  of  the 
the  hills  leaped 
sracts  at  so  many 
d  steeds  lashed 
They  burst  all 
e  he  sat,  so  that 
within  his  house 
to  the  door  and 
through  the  lat- 
i  pitch  dark,  and 
*  comers  of  his 
roke  the  fierce 
neyer  did  the 
e  once ;  every 
)d  to  root  itself 
in  the  rock,  and 
iplight  that  fell 
le  page  of  his 
lant  saw  that  all 
dwell,  and  heard 
ly  to  him,  **  Fear 
a  with  thee!" 
of  the  dwelUng 
ike  sands?  He 
safe  on  the  clifis 
rough  his  lattice, 
d,  to  look  down ; 
fleep  midnight,  a 
of  lightning  re- 
lim  all  the  tale, 
e  the  valley  was 
th  floods  broke 
y  were  sweeping 
Hr  breast;  and, 
the  waves  of  the 
seething  like  an  i 
ITPoured  tbem-  I 


selves  out  furiously  upon  the 
sands.  He  who  had  built 
his  dwelling  there  was  seen 
out  upon  his  house-top  for  a 
moment  wild  and  haggard, 
as  if  seeking  for  escape; 
but  the  rain  descended,  the 
whirlwind  came  in  its  might, 
the  waters  roared  round  and 
sapped  his  house ;  and,  as  he 
flung  up  his  arms  in  despair, 
it  was  seen  to  crumble  be- 
neath him — the  gulf  swal- 
lowed it  up  quick;  and, 
when  I  looked  again,  there 
was  nothing  but  the  curtain 
fallen  down  of  the  murk 
night  and  the  wrathful  storm. 
In  my  dream,  I  wept  with 
the  watcher  on  the  hill,  for  I 
knew,  as  he  did,  that,  when 
the  sun  would  rise  again,  the 
valley  would  be  a  wide  waste, 
and  the  fair  house  upon  the 
sands  buried  in  their  treache- 
rous grave.  Well,  therefore, 
could  I  turn  with  him,  as  he 
turned  in  prayer,  and  laid 
hold  on  the  hand  of  the  Jn- 
visible  One^  crying — 

"  Rock  of  Ages,  deft  for  met 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Th  ee  I 

As  I  awoke  out  of  my  dream, 
I  had  clear  before  my  eyes  a 
passage  from  the  Word  of 
God,  in  which  my  reader  will 
find  all  my  tale  put  witMn  a 
few  lines.  It  U  MaUVk^w 
vii.  29-33.  YJ.U. 


%n  ©rjl^an's  laitlj. 


RHAT  do  you  do 
without  B  mo- 
ther to  tetl  all 
your  troubles 
top'  aiked  a  child  "ho 
had  a  mother  of  otte  who 
had  nott  her  mother  was 
dead. 

"  Mother  told  me  who  to 
go  to  befbre  ihe  died,"  an- 
■«ei«d  the  little  orphan. 
"I  go  to  the  Lord  Jeiiii; 


he  waJ  mother'!  fiieod,  and 
He'i  mli^e." 

"  Jeaui  Christ  I*  up  Id  the 
skj.  He  Is  aWBj  off,  and 
haa  a  great  many  thli^  to 
attend  to  in  lieiiVen.  It  1* 
not  likely  he  can   atop  (« 

"  I  do  not  know  anything 
about  that,"  uid  the  orphan. 
■*  All  I  know  i*.  He  mgt  B« 
miii,  oadtAai'a  nonghjor  ma.' 


j^^SSOUNG  PAULINE  I  "I  think  one  wanU  but 
g^K^  once  woke  up  at  three  things  in  this  world: 
n^^  midnight,  and  at  the  grace  of  oor  Lord  Jesni 
*^^  >he  lay  in  bercilb  Chrtit,  to  make  him  holy; 
ITMM beard  to  iay !  ,  thv^OTeaCQQ&.Ui'makjaU^ 

JI4 


TIB  tABBATH  MHOI.AB*!  TBBASUmT. 


happy;  and  the  feUowihip 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he 
may  be  always  in  good  com- 

Wise  Uttle  giri!  With 
those  three  things  one  might 
be  happy  indeed,  even  though 
he  fed  on  dry  crusts,  lived 
in  a  shanty,  and  dressed  in 
ragt.     Please  commit  that 


little  girFs  great  thought  to 
memory,  my  child,  and  don't 
lorget  that  those  three  pre- 
cious things  are  the  cheapest 
things  in  the  world.  They 
cost  nothing  but  aslcing,  for 
your  kind  Father  in  heaven 
gives  them,  ior  Jesus*  sake, 
without  money  and  witliout 
price. 


^t  ^tflrg  at  '^wdm  |atme. 


OHAFTB&  Til. 

>l7RINO  the  latter 
part  of  her  sickness, 
she  was  much  occu- 
pied with  thoughts 
of  her  native  land.  She  had 
formerly  often  asserted,  the 
Gallas  are  wild  people  but 
good  people;  and  she  was 
always  hopeM  in  regard  to 
the  conversion  of  their  race. 
Id  her  wanderings,  her  ima- 
gination loved  to  dwell 
among  the  scenes  of  her 
childhood:  she  would  ask 
for  her  dress,  and  desire  that 
it  should  be  put  on  her  in 
expectation  of  a  long  journey, 
and  then  again  she  felt  her 
weakness.  A  week  before 
her  departure  she  rt^celved 
a  visit  from  Komthal:  she 
would  indeed  have  been 
most  pleased  to  have  seen 
her  dear  mother,  Mrs.  Fecht ; 
but  yet  it  was  a  great  joy  to 
her  to  see  any  one  from  that 
comman/tyl/i  which  she  had  ' 
j&aad  so  much  blesaing.  She  I 


would  have  delighted  to  go 
to  Komthal  herself. 

At  first  some  dark  sha- 
dows lay  upon  her  as  she 
approaclied  the  valley  of 
death ;  but  tliese  afterwards 
yielded  to  the  brightness  of 
eternity  beaming  upon  her. 
Her  thoughts  were  now 
much  occupied  respecting 
her  going  to  her  eternal 
home.  One  day  no  other 
word  was  heard  from  her  but 
"Home." 

A  few  days  before  her 
death,  her  dear  god-father 
visited  her;  it  was  a  sor- 
rowful farewell;  he  was 
about  to  go,  when  she  sum- 
moned all  her  strength, 
rais^id  herself  in  her  bed, 
and  said  solemnly,  "Keep 
your  seat.  You  have  as  my 
god-father  promised  to  care 
much  for  me,  and  have  per- 
formed it.  God  bless  you 
for  all  that  you  ha^e  dow« 
for  Patiline!"  "When  V\^ 
said,  "He  had  hoped  lYvat 
she  might  have  been  a\>\e  vo 


THX  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'b  TBBAaUBT. 


do  Bometbing  for  her  coun- 
try people,"  she  replied,  *'All 
has  gone  right."  She  aUo 
thanked  all  her  friends  and 
benefactors  at  Basle  and 
Riehen,  and  said,  after  a 
little  while,  *'Soon,  soon 
shall  we  see  eauh  other 
again  above.**  A  dear  ser- 
vant of  the  Lord  prayed  one 
day  with  her ;  she  was  much 
strengthened  ;  when  she  was 
asked  whether  she  had  un- 
derstood him?  she  pointed 
to  her  mouth  and  ears,  and 
then  to  her  heart,  as  if  she 
would  say,  "  The  ears  have 
not  heard  all,  nor  can  the 
mouth  pronounce  it;  but 
the  heart  has  felt  and  un- 
derstood it.**  She  spoke 
very  little,  and  often  in 
broken  language  which  could 
not  be  understood ;  but  these 
few  words,  and  her  loving, 
heaven- directed  look,  told 
plainly  where  her  heart 
rested.  In  the  night  she 
was  once  heard  to  say,  **  Jer- 
usalem, Jerusalem,  the  mar- 
riage ojf  the  Lamb.**  A  little 
time  before,  when  she  could 
still  speak  intelligibly,  she 
gently  and  lovingly  reprov- 
ed the  sister  who  nursed 
her,  who  was  much  grieved 
at  her  sufferings.  **You 
should  not  grieve  so;  Chris- 
tians should  rejoice  when 
one  goes  home.  In  Korn- 
thal  they  rejoiced,  and  did 
not  wear  so  sorrowful  a 
countenance.*'  She  was  her- 
self inwardly  happy,  and 
listened  with  pleasure  when 
verses  were  sung  to  her 
116 


relating  to  the  sours  depar- 
ture. 

Once  she  slumbered  sweet- 
ly, while  some  friends  gently 
sang  the  verse: — 

**  Thy  tighs  and  thy  sobblngis 
And    the    many,    many   tears 
which  thou  hatt  abed.**  &e. 

On  the  last  afternoon  of 
her  life,  a  friend  lat  alone 
by  her  bedside,  and  read  to 
her  some  portion  of  the 
Word,  which  gave  her  evi- 
dent satisfaction ;  the  raised 
her  finger  significantly  with 
the  words,  ^'In  beftven  we 
must  have  a  pare  heart,  and 
ever  and  only  speak  the 
truth/*  Some  verses  being 
sung  to  her  daring  her  kist 
night,  she  testified  her  joy 
by  her  loving  look.  For 
every  service  of  love,  for 
every  word  of  God  whidi 
was  repeated  to  her,  the 
shewed  her  gratitude  by  the 
expression  of  her  eyes,  which 
she  raised  to  heaven.  She 
was  much  concerned  about 
the  sister  who  nursed  ber, 
and  made  a  sign  that  she 
should  go  to  rest  in  bed. 
When  this  sister  had  tears 
in  her  eyes,  she  asked  her 
very  gently  in  broken  wordf, 
"  Why  so  distressed  ?  **  point- 
ed with  her  finger  towards 
heaven,  and  looked  at  ber 
with  a  gaze  which  expressed 
much,  ^^he  said  many  other 
things,  bat  they  comd  not 
be  understood;  yet  the  wwdt 
were  heard,  "  Saviour ! 
Ha\\e\\i^a\ir  It  was  on  the 
eVev^tkVYi  oil  ^\k\AtoKsa^  ^ 


THB  tABBATB  IOHQLAR'S  TBBASUXT. 


I 


/ 


four  o'clock  in  the  morniog, 
that  the  heart  of  this  happy 
Galla  negress  gently  ceased 
to  bent.  A  solemn  itillnest, 
and  A  ibretatte  of  the  eternal 
Ssbhath,  were  diffused  orer 
her  dark  coontenance. 

She  was  buried  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  fourteenth 
of  September.  Many  friends 
who  took  an  interest  in  her, 
from  Basle  and  the  Ticinity, 
had  assembled  in  the  house 
and  ga^en  of  the  Dea- 
conesses' Institution.  The 
open  coffin  was  carried  out 
sod  placed  in  a  green  bower ; 
the  alsters  of  the  house  and 
other  friends  had  taken  great 
pains  in  decking  the  coffin, 
according  to  the  custom 
there,  with  flowers  and 
wreaths. 

A  fresh  myrtle  wreath 
was  entwined  round  her 
blacky  woolly  hair.  Her 
dark  countenance  might 
seem  as  lit  up  from  hesTcn ; 
a  sweet  and  peaceful  smile 
was  on  her  lips,  through 
which  her  snow-white  teeth 
ahone  forth.  By  this  coffin 
one  felt  nothing  of  death; 
but  the  comforting  doctrine 
of  the  resurrection  of  the 
body  was  here  indeed  brought 
honle  to  the  heart,  as  the 
Jier,  Mr.  Ledderhose  read 
the  precious  chapter  respect- 
ing the  sickness,  death,  and 
lesurrection  of  Lazarus. 

Whilst  the  bells  were 
tolling,  they  sang  the  hymn 
which  in  so  many  respects 
was  Bpp^icahh  to  the  life 
of  the  departed,    "I  am  a 


stranger  upon  earth;  and 
here  have  no  resting-pli'ce. 
Hearen  is  that  to  me.  That 
is  my  father- land.**  How 
suitable  were  these  rerses, 
^  What  has  been  my  whole 
life  from  my  youth  up,  but 
trouble  and  need  ?  So  long 
as  1  can  think,  hare  I  spent 
so  many  mornings  and  so 
many  nights  in  sorrow  and 
anxiety  of  heart.  Thou, 
however,  art  my  joy,  Thou 
the  light  of  my  life!  Thou 
chastenest  me  when  I  strav. 
Before  thy  countenance  in 
the  house  of  eternal  bliss, 
there  among  many  others 
shall  I  ever  shine  full  of  joy, 
like  the  brisht  sun.** 

The  coffin  was  placed  in 
the  Church  ;  the  minister  of 
the  place,  the  He  v.  Mr. 
Stahelin,  had  chosen  the 
words  in  the  sixth  verse  of 
the  sixteenth  Psalm  as  his 
text :  <*  The  lines  are  fallen 
unto  me  in  pleasant  pUces ; 
yea,  I  have  a  goodly  heri- 
tage." He  shewed  through 
the  remarkable  history  of 
her  life,  especially  in  her 
conversion  to  the  Lord,  how 
very  applicable  the  foregoing 
Scripture  was  to  her;  al- 
though at  first  sight,  and  in 
contemplating  her  departure 
in  a  foreign  land,  and  in  the 
bloom  of  her  youth,  it  might 
not  appear  so.  We  cannot 
refrain  from  giving  the 
striking  conclusion.  **Yet 
one  word  morel  We  sow 
to-day  as  a  seed  fot  eteimt^f  > 
a  grain  of  corn  w\i\cV\  Yvfk% 
^>een  brought  to  us  itoui  «^ 


THB  lABBATH  IOHOLAB*8  TBXABUXT. 


far  distant  land.  When  in 
fature  days  you  see  in  our 
burial-ground  the  mound 
which  covers  the  moulder- 
ing remains  of  the  negress 
Fatme,  oh !  let  it  be  a  call 
lo  your  heart  like  that  which 
the  apostle  Paul  heard,  when 
he  saw  at  Troas  the  vision 
of  that  man  of  Macedonia, 
who  called  to  him,  Come 
over  and  help  us  1  So  may 
the  negress,  buried  amongst 
us,  be  the  means  of  awaken- 
ing mnch  missionary  inter- 
est which  is  now  slumber- 
ing among  us  I  We  indeed 
know  well  that  although 
we  cannot  all  go  out  our- 
selves into  distant  heathen 
lands,  we  can  here  do 
much  for  this  holy  cnuse  of 
the  kingdom  of  God.  Oh, 
may  the  Lord  by  His  grace 
suffer  not  this  renewed  call 
to  our  hearts  to  be  in  vain  I " 
The  coffin  was  now  borne 
by  the  brethren  from  Chris- 
cliona,  and  accompanied  by 
many  friends,  brought  to  its 
resting-place.  When  they 
arrived  at  the  grave,  the 
minister,  who  hud  read  the 
eleventh  chapter  from  8t. 
John's  Gospel,  spoke  some- 
what as  follows  : — **  There 
came  once  from  the  far  south 
a  nobleman  to  Jerusalem  :  a 
desire  to  be  present  at  the 
beautiful  public  worship  of 
God,  a  longing  to  find  some- 
thing for  his  suul,  had  drawn 
him  thither;  and  he  found 
what  makes  the  sinner 
bJeBsed  for  time  and  eternity. 
H  e  recogniae  the  black  man, 
116 


that  eunuch  of  Queen  Can- 
dace,  to  whom,  whilst  ear- 
nestly engaged  in  reading 
the  fifty- third  chapter  of 
the  great  prophet  and  evan- 
gelist, Isaiah,  Philip  the 
deacon,  full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  expounded,  to  the 
making  him  wise  unto  sal- 
vation, the  mystery  ai  Him 
who  has  borne  our  sins. 
How  eagerly  the  foreign 
man  grasped  at  this  I  This 
was  the  pearl  which  he  had 
sought.  And  favoured  with 
the  sacrament  of  baptism, 
he  went  on  his  way  rej<^c- 
ing.  How  wonderful  are 
the  ways  of  the  Lord  I  but 
how  glorious  the  end ! 
Without  such  a  desire  upon 
her  part;  yea,  against  her 
will,  was  the  departed  one, 
whose  body  now  lies  before 
us.  brought  firom  the  far 
south,  and  must  come  to 
Wirtemberg.  The  same 
Grod  of  all  grace  who  caused 
the  eunuch  from  Ethiopia  to 
find  the  treasure,  has  also 
brought  to  us  the  Oalla  ne- 
gress, that  she  might  find 
the  one  thing  needful  which 
makes  her  blessed  for  eter- 
nity. He  is  a  God  of  won- 
ders, but  blessed  and  glori- 
ous are  His  ways !  He  has 
done  well  for  the  departed. 
His  name  be  praised.** 

The  coffin  was  now  placed 
in  the  grave,  the  blessing 
pronounced,  a  prayer  was 
ofiered,  and  many  tears  tes 
tified  that  the  foreign  ne- 
gte&ft  y;«A  Ol^^t  1q  us.    This 


THM  ■ABBATB  ■OBOLAB'i  TBBAMJBT. 


by  the  light  of  the  setting 
•an.  The  chorui  for  four 
▼oice«,  '*  Jerusalem,  thou 
city  built  on  high,"  formed 
A  beautiful  conclusion.  The 
jrrave  waa  filled  with  many 
flowers.  On  the  mound 
which  covers  it  stands  a 
simple  cross;  on  the  fVont 
side  of  which  the  funeral 
text  is  written,  from  Psalm 
xyL  5.  and  on  the  otiier, 
Ps.  Ixviii.  31,  •«  Ethiopia 
shsll  soon  stretch  out  her 
hands  unto  God.*'  Under- 
neath   is    the    inscription. 


*<  Pauline  Fatme,  a  Gslla 
negress,  bom  in  Africa,  died 
in  the  I^rd,  in  the  Deaco- 
ness* house  at  Hiehen,  in  tlic 
twenty*  fourtli  year  of  her 
age,  on  the  eleventh  Sep- 
tember, 1855/* 

There  rests  now  the  pre- 
cious grain  of  com,  which, 
on  the  blessed  day  of  the 
resurrection,  shall  come  forth 
gloriously  in  all  loveliness. 
May  it  please  God  that 
this  be  not  a  single  ear  ga  • 
thered  from  the  great  Galla 
field! 


ffi^f  ^artisi  f  aggfb  f al^. 


FEW  years  ago  in 
a  Ragged  School  in 
London,  a  gentle- 
man determined  to 
test  the  honesty  of  one  of  the 
poor  lads,  by  sending  him 
with  a  sovereign  to  get  it 
changed  for  silver. 

"Oh,"  said  one,  "you'll 
never  see  your  sovereign 
again — the  lad  will  never  re- 
tura.** 

V I  believe  he  mil  return,** 
replied  the  gentleman. 

Several  minutes  elapsed, 
but  the  lad  had  not  yet  ap 
pesred.  The  circumstance 
having  got  noised  amongst 
the  lads  in  the  school,  many 
anxious  faces  were  turned 
towards  the  door.    The  ex- 


citement became  very  great, 
hopes  and  fears  were  very 
strongly  expressed,  but  at 
the  end  of  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  the  lads  burst  into 
a  shout  of  applause  on  seeing 
their  comrade  enter  the 
school  with  the  silver  in 
his  hand.  The  gentleman 
counted  it,  and  found  his 
twenty  shillings  all  right. 

"  y^hy  were  you  so  long?** 
inquired  the  gentleman. 

*'  I  went  to  several  shop«, 
sir,  and  they  wouldn't  change 
it— 2%ey  said  they  didn't  be- 
lieve I  had  come  honestly  by 
the  sovereign  !  " 

Let  us  thank  God  that 
Higged  Schools  are  doing  a 
great  and  blessed  ntotVl. 


\\% 


THH  BABBATH  SOSOLAB'B  TUASUBT. 


CoLossiANS  iii.  11. 

ESUS,  ray  Saviour,  look  on  me ! 
For  lam  weary  and  opprest ; 
I  come  to  cast  my  soul  on  Thee ; 
'1  hou  art  my  rest. 


Look  down  on  me,  for  I  am  weak ; 
I  feel  the  toilsome  journey's  length ; 
Thine  aid  omnipotent  I  seek ; 

Thou  art  my  strength. 

I  am  bewilder'd  t»n  my  way; 
Dark  and  tempestuous  is  the  night ; 

0  shed  Thou  forth  some  cheering  ray ; 

Thou  art  my  light. 

1  hear  the  storms  around  me  rise, 
But,  when  1  dread  th*  impending  shock, 
My  spirit  to  her  refuge  flies ; 

Thou  art  my  rock. 

When  the  accuser  flings  his  darts, 
I  look  to  Thee, — my  terrors  cease ; 
Thy  cross  a  hiding-place  imparts ; 
Thou  art  my  peace. 

Standing  alone  on  Jordan's  brink. 
In  that  tremendous,  latest  strife. 
Thou  wilt  not  suffer  me  to  sink ; 
Thou  art  my  life. 

Thou  wilt  my  every  want  supply, 
Even  to  the  end,  whatever  befall ; 
Through  life,  in  death,  eternally, 
ThoQ  art  my  all. 


Macdupf. 


i20 


tiUs  of  §flut&  ^n  Ifihnbs, 


lis.  Iiiolg  and  idol 
wera  swept  away 
I  besom  of  cleaCrua- 
\e  king  liimselF,  who 
.red  household  iioils 
»t  mfaErita.iice  from 
rei,  pretented  tliem 
iltaionarieB  to  send 
kod,  to  Bliew  what 
:  follies  had  pug- 
I  laod  ere  the  Chris- 
bad  crod  it.  To 
the  Tuhitian  goda 
lir  grim  uglineai  are 
ihe  maseuni  of  the 
UiaaionaTT'  Society 
It  of  the  firat  rojal 
Ut  Ouiat  la  Folf-  j 


Fomare'e  example  4wcame 
quite  uonu^ious,  ao  lliat  in 
one  iesion  a  whole  kiiigiJom 

louked  to  the  outward  eye. 
Chriatlao  miieion  station* 
rose  iustead  of  idul  temples 
among  the  dark  wouda,  and 
by  the  losely  island  baya. 
The  Sabbiith  was  a  day  of 
rest  and  praiae.  Printiog 
preaaea  were  set  up,  and  ilia 
fiibta  printed  by  the  thou- 
aand ;  and  one  miaaionarf , 
wriCrng  of  the  sc«Qes  \d  ^\^B 
m/saioD  BchooU,  gaya:  " A%e& 
prieite  aud  watriots,  w 
\1V 


"\ttv 


THE  SABBATH  80HOLAB  8  TRBABURT. 


their  spelling-book b  in  their 
hands,  might  be  seen  sitting 
on  the  benches  in  the  schools 
by  the  side,  perhaps,  of  some 
smiling  little  boy  or  girl,  by 
whom  they  were  now  taught 
the  use  of  letters.*'  To  crown 
all,  king  Pomare  headed  a 
large  gathering  of  liis  chiefs 
and  other  subjects,  and  with 
one  voice  raised  a  native 
Missionary  Society  to  give 
the  gospel  shelter  in  their 
islands,  and  not  only  so, 
but  supported  it  by  lavish 
gifts.  **  So  mightily  grew 
the  word  of  God  and  pre- 
vailed,*' though  the  fair  out- 
ward picture,  after  all,  is  not 
to  be  taken  as  of  much  value 
without  the  living  Spirit  re- 
vealing Jesus  truly  to  the 
heathen  heart. 

FABLED  ISLANDS. 

Every  boy  and  girl  have 

been  told  of  a  fable  believed 

in  times  long  long  ago,  about 

a  cluster  of  islands  of  fairy 

beauty,  that  were  said  to  lie 

somewhere  away  in  western 

seas.  They  were  reported  to 

be  like  gems  upon  the  wave, 

and  to  be  dotted   all  over 

with  golden  fruit.    Such  in 

the  highest  sense  seemed  to 

become  the  Tahitian  Islands 

now.    For  barbarism  there 

gretir    up   sweet    Christiau 
122 


homes ;  for  wild  fores 
cultivated  haunts; 
and    bloodshed    pet 
plenty ;  and  for  dark 
rites  the  worship  of 
ing  and  true  God.    ' 
tidings  were  in  all  t 
And  to  one  sailing 
great  deep,  nowhere 
sight  more  like  tli 
islands  break  upon  1 
these  shores  rising  i 
waters,  and  in  the 
faith  and  love  grov 
as  the  garden  of  the 

END  OF  THB  VI 

Another  side  of  th 
begins,  however,  by 
to  dawn  upon  us. 
Pomare  built  an 
erection  called  th 
Chapel.  It  was  7U 
length,  and  54  fe< 
The  roof  was  supp 
36  large  and  280  sma 
There  were  133  wine 
29  doors.  The  raft 
bound  with  braided 
various  colours.  Tl 
three  pulpits  260  fe 
but  without  any  | 
When  asked  his  n 
building  so  large 
Pomare's  reply  wac 
mon  was  a  good  k 
built  a  house  for 
and  superior  to  evei 
in.  3nde&  ot  X>aa  «vx? 


TBB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB'B  TBBABUBT. 


ooantries."  After  this  he 
was  baptized  in  presence  of 
about  5000  spectators.  But 
in  1821  he  sickened  and  died. 
As  a  heathen  he  had  been  a 
cruel  tyrant  and  a  wretched 
drunkard.  Even  after  he 
professed  himself  a  Christian 
his  evil  habits  not  seldom 
got  the  mastery.  But  lat- 
terly, as  a  convert,  he  was 
singular  in  his  knowledge  of 


Scripture,  eager  in  helping 
on  the  missions,  zealous  in 
putting  down  vice  of  all 
kinds,  and  in  his  own  life 
letting  a  better  example  be 
seen.  His  death  was  a  loss 
of  no  common  kind  to  the 
gospel  cause,  and  it  is  after 
this,  with  the  new  sovereign 
—  Queen  Pomare  —  on  the 
throne,  dangers  and  dark- 
ness again  sprang  up. 


3olhms  oi  t^e  Cr^ss. 


T   T there  is 

a  wonderful  little 


community  of 
Christian  soldiers  about 
whom  I  must  tell  you  a  few 
things.  When  the  74  th 
Highlanders  were  here,  some 
of  the  men,  feeling  the  utter 
want  of  privacy  in  the  bar- 
racks, built  a  small  mud  hut, 
to  which  they  might  retire 
for  prayer  at  night. 

Two  or  three  of  their  suc- 
cessors, at  present  in  their 
quarters,  improved  upon 
their  idea,  and  built  a  house 
of  stone  and  lime.  Here, 
every  evening  of  the  week, 
lome  thirty  or  forty  soldiers 
meet  to  pray  and  read  the 
Scriptures.  These  men  call 
themselves  '*  the  Bretbren  " 
-^constat  of  some  of  the  I 
tteadieMt  of  the  soldierg,  and  / 


boldest  riders  in  the  place — 
have  acquired  a  very  fair 
library  of  religious  books — 
give  liberally  of  their  pay  to 
Missionary  and  other  Chris- 
tian purposes— and,  abore 
all,  by  their  steady  and 
consistent  lives,  exemplify 
Christianity  in  its  fairest 
aspect.  Their  number  has 
grown  gradually,  and  is  still 
growing — and  their  influence 
upon  their  comrades  has 
been  very  great  indeed. 
One  rule  of  theirs  is,  that, 
though  they  have  thus  their 
place  of  retiring  in  little 
companies  for  devotions, 
each  of  them,  after  undress- 
ing, must  also  kneel  down  in 
the  crowded  barrack,  by  his 
cot,  and  engage  in  ptayet. 
'  One  of  them  told  me  that, 
for  a  Bovice,  this  was,  at  otift 

12a 


THS  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'B  TREASUBT. 


time,  the  hardest  trial  of 
any ;  for  no  man  could  ima- 
gine the  amount  of  mockery 
levelled  against  the  act ;  but 
now  they  have  gained  re- 
spect even  from  the  worst ; 
and  are  almost  free  to  do  as 
they  like.  The  8awmy 
house,  as  it  is  called — that 
being  a  soldier's  slang  phrase 
for  a  heathen  pagoda— has 
become  a  recognised  institu- 
tion, simply  through  force  of 
character  on  tiie  part  of  its 
founders. 

Not  long  after  I  arrived  at 
this  cantonment,  Major  B. 
drove  me  up,  and  I  con- 
ducted their  service  for 
them.  Finer  and  franklier 
and  more  soldierly  men,  I 
never  saw.  Having  finished 
my  work,  by  giving  them  a 
short  address,  I  said  that  I 
wished  one  of  themselves  to 
conclude  with  prayer.  A 
private  of  the  Royals  an- 
swered my  invitation  in  a 
plain,  earnest,  and  most 
striking    manner.       There 


were  some  errors  of 
in  what  he  said; 
few  errors  of  ta8t< 
confess  that  I  fe 
repaid  for  my  long 
when,  in  his  opei 
tences  he  said,  in  hi 
downright  way,  * 
we  unite  in  thank 
that  now  Thou 
swered  our  long- 
prayers,  and  has  i 
minister  to  T— 
countenance  us 
humble  endeavour 
Thee  and  what 
quirest  of  us."  On 
the  influence  of  sui 
his  side  roust  be 
as  well  as  encoura^ 
forth  much  energy 
good;  and,  I  am 
say,  that,  on  Sund 
ing,  all  "  the  Bretli 
their  places  in  No. 
when  I  was  priif 
proclaim  the  "  m 
Ftom  a  Letter  f\ 
kindly  communicate 
Mr,  Fisher  of  FUsl 


%t)imx%  in  f  ombag. 


/ 


SERVICE    of    a 

most      interesting 

character  was  held 

in     8t.     Andrew's 

Church  last  Sabbath  even- 

infc*    The  esteemed  and  de- 

yoted  pastor  of  that  church 

J24 


had  previously  arr. 
the  time  usually  c 
the  sermon  should 
pied  by  the  city  m 
in  giving  an  accou 
\abouTB.  Mx«xVvfc 


Tarn  BABBATH  SOHOLAB'B  TBBAtURT. 


prayer,  and  the  readinfiT  of 
the  Scriptures,  the  pastor  an- 
nounced thearrangenit*nt8  he 
had  made.  He  gave  a  brief 
account  of  the  religious  revi- 
val in  America  and  Europe, 
and  dwelt  with  much  fulness 
and  with  great  fiervour  on 
the  part  which  lay  agency 
had  performed  in  it— on  the 
instrumentality  of  private 
Christians,  which  has  been, 
and  still  is,  so  largely  em- 
ployed, and  so  abundantly 
bies«ed.  He  then  alluded  to 
the  operations  of  the  Bombay 
City  Mission  Committee,  in 
whose  behalf  he  had  made  a 
powerful  appeal  in  the  fore- 
noon, and  spoke  of  the  faith- 
fulness and  zeal  of  the  agents 
of  the  mission.  After  these 
remarks,  he  called  on  Mr. 
James  Lindsay,  one  of  the 
city  mi«>ionaries,  tp  address 
the  congregation.  Mr.  Lind- 
My  went  into  the  precentor's 
desk,  and  in  simple,  forcible 
Nnguage,  of  the  broad,  ex- 
pressive Scotch  dialect, 
made  a  statement  of  his 
labours  and  an  appeal  to  his 
hearers  which  will  not  soon 
be  forgotten  by  any  one  who 
had  the  privilege  to  hear 
liim.  He  gave  an  account 
firot  of  his  labours  in  the 
hospitals  ;  and  some  of  the 
cases  he  mentioned,  and  re- 
Uted  with  >o  much  pathos, 
left  scarcely  a  tearless  eye 
in  the  congregation.  He 
then  gave  an  account  of 
his  labours  amongst  the  Bo)- 
diers  in  their  barraokB,  his 
conversAtiouB    with    them. 


his  prayer-meetings  for 
them  which  were  increasing 
every  week  in  numbers  and 
in  interest,  nnd  the  marked 
succe9s  with  which  his  la- 
bours have  been  hitherto 
crowned.  After  these  state- 
ments, he  made  an  appeal  to 
the  Christian  portion  of  his 
audience  on  their  persoral 
responsibilities  to  make 
known  the  gospel  of  salva- 
tion to  those  whom  they 
meet.  We  never  listened  to 
a  more  energetic,  earnest, 
and  impressive  address,  it 
not  only  rivetted  the  atten- 
tion, but  penetrated  the 
heart  of  evei  y  li atener.  We 
cannot  but  believe  that  a 
deep  impression  was  made, 
and  that  a  number  were 
awakened  to  a  lively  and 
lasting  sense  of  their  indivi- 
dual responsibilities,  which 
will  be  followed  by  practical 
effects.  Mr.  Lindsay  is  cer- 
tainly well  etted  for  his  im- 
portant work,  and  a  zealous 
and  successful  labourer  in 
it.  Alter  Mr.  Lindsay  had 
taken  his  seat,  the  pastor 
again,  in  a  very  solemn 
manner,  urged  upon  all  their 
personal  duties  in  connexion 
with  this  work.  He  incul- 
cated the  Scriptural  lesson, 
that  "every  man  sh<»uld 
teach  his  neighbour,  and 
every  man  his  brother,  say- 
ing. Know  the  Lord."  His 
remarks  were  pointed,  faith- 
ful, and  impressive ;  and 
evinced  a  most  earnest  de%\t^ 
for  the  revivnl  of  rvWgVow  \v\ 
^oixihsij, —  Bombait  G^'ai  dian* 

125 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAr'S  TRBABURT. 


part,  he  flung  his  arm  round 
her  and  sustained  her  till 
they  reached  a  shady  spot 
again.  On  her  part  she  was 
not  without  use  by  day— for 
in  a  moment  she  caught  the 
roar  of  a  wild  beast,  or  the 
muttering  of  a  sudden  storm, 
to  which,  of  course,  her  com- 
panion was  deaf,  and  then 
they  would  flee  to  a  rock  or 
tree  for  refuge  —  or  when 
they  were  faint,  she  was 
always  first  to  know  by  her 
keen  hearing  that  the  sound 
of  running  water  was  at 
hand,  and  she  would  draw 
him  laughingly  aside  to 
where  the  gush  sparkled  up. 
But  it  was  in  the  night 
season  she  was  the  guide. 
Soon  as  twilight  came  down, 
grey  and  gloomy,  the  flash- 
ing eyeballs  of  the  boy  failed 
him  ;  and  in  impatient  grief, 
he  was  wont  to  weep,  and 
stamp  his  foot  ever  as  the 
darkness  thicker  and  thicker 
grew,  crying  out,  "  Why  have 
I  no  power  to  hear  ?  " 

'^  Because  I  am  thy  hear- 
ing.*' was  his  sister^s  soft 
reply.  **Lean  on  me  nowy 
brother,  for  I  not  only  hear 
all  the  sounds  of  danger  in 
the  night,  but  I  hear  the 
voice  of  the  Blessed  One 
speaking  above  all,  and  tell- 
Jngr  U8  the  way,  and  by  my 
128 


touch  I  will  tell  you,  dearesti 
what  He  says.** 

So  the  bold  boy  became  as 
the  helpless  girl  in  the  night, 
and  leaned  weeping  on  his 
sifter's  arm.  She,  on  her 
side,  rose  into  strength  and 
courage  deeper  as  the  dark- 
ness fell,  and  marvellous  it 
was  how  intrepidly  she  led 
him  on.  Not  a  rustle  of  a 
leaf  escaped  her,  not  the 
murmur  of  the  most  hidden 
enemy,  not  the  lightest 
breeze  whisper  telling  that  a 
tempest,  or  a  pitfall  across 
their  path,  or  the  roaming 
tread  of  a  beast  of  prey  was 
near.  Beautiful  it  then  was 
to  frcl  the  swift  tenderness 
with  which  she  guided  her 
deaf  brother  on  till  the  dan- 
ger was  overpast.  But  most 
beautiful  it  was  to  watch 
how  ever  and  anon  she  knelt 
down  and  clasped  her  gentle 
hands  together,  and  spoke 
up  into  the  midnight  air, 
and  then  when  on  her  stoop- 
ing ear  there  fell  words  lii(e 
those  of  One  answering  from 
the  clouds,  such  as,  *^Thi8  is 
the  way,  walk  ye  in  it;**  or, 
*' Fear  not:  I  am  with  thee;** 
or,  '*  I  am  at  thy  right  hand 
and  thy  left ;"  or,  "  I  am  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life," 
Viow    io>^ow%\"j    »he    leaped 


\ 


ram  bmmbatb  boholar's  trbabdrt. 


hor  understand  that 
ell,  and  even  dragged 
both  ran  in  the  path, 
ondered  that  at  snch 
ley  did  not  Btnmble 
ish,  for  the  way  was 
along  the  very  brink 

precipices,  but  the 
*1  went  over  with  an 
>p  that  was  less  a 
earth  than  the  light 
>f  angel  feet. 

days  and  nights 
Bted  by,  and  still  I 

the  twin  children 
}ir  road  for  the  dty, 
I  going  thither  my- 
ininnot  tell  of  all  the 
es,  wearinesses,  and 
ey  went  through, — 
n  at  the  fall  of  night 
wept,  how  often  at 
kk  of  day  again  the 
red  him  what  it  was 

walked    all    night 

the  Shadow  of 
seen,  and  how  in 
f  great  fear  both 
or  when  these  times 
er  both  rejoiced  to- 
It   is   enough    to 

at  last  the  journey 
ur  a  close.  Again 
n  had  the  boy  looked 
;he  horizon,  but  he 
led  that  he  had  seen 
To  this,  however, 
••  on/jr  smiled  in  re-  j 
assured  bim  ib»ta  ' 


sound  like  the  sound  of  many 
waters  had  long  been  in  her 
ear,  and  mingled  with  it  the 
strange  harping  of  golden 
harps,  and  she  was  sure  the 
City  was  very  near.  Besides, 
the  Blessed  One  had  whis- 
pered to  her,  **  Te  shall  see 
My  Face!"  But  just  then 
when  they  had  been  hoping 
to  reach  the  gates  ere  sunset, 
the  tokens  of  a  very  wild 
thick  night  came  on.  So  the 
boy  was  all  tremor  agaiiu 
In  vain  his  sifter  clasped 
him,  and  led  him  steadfastly 
on.  It  seemed  to  him  they 
were  going  down,  down  into 
a  valley  like  the  pit*s  mouth, 
and,  to  add  to  his  distress,  a 
rim  of  light  that  had  been 
on  the  sky*s  edge  till  now 
went  out,  and  his  feet  felt 
entering  into  cold,  terrible, 
pitch-black  waters.  Yet  the 
girl  urged  him  deeper  and 
deeper.  Often  did  he  strug- 
gle back  to  shore  and  cry 
aloud,  but  yet  again  did  she 
succeed  in  carrying  him 
within  the  wave,  till  one  step 
and  at  last  suddenly  they 
sank  in  a  deep  place,  and 
were  borne  away.  I  then 
lost  sight  of  them,  for  I  was 
at  that  very  moment  battling 
in  the  awful  river  nvywM, 
but  after  a  few  momenli  ol 
what  seemed  a  dark  awooul 

1^ 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  TRBASUXT. 


opened  my  eyes  again,  and 
the  first  thing  I  beheld,  as 
my  feet  now  touched  and 
walked  upon  the  bottom, 
WHS  a  silvery  shore,  on  which 
the  two  children  were  climb- 
ing up,  the  sister  still  lead- 
ing. As  they  got  upon  the 
sand,  Three  Shining  Ones 
receiyed  them  in  their  arms 
and  kissed  them.  The 
middle  one  of  the  three  then 
touched  the  girPs  eyes  and 
said,  *'£phathar'  and  they 
were  blind  no  more ;  and  he 
touched  the  boy's  ears  and 
said,  "  Receive  thy  hearing  1" 
and  so  it  was  dooe.  Then 
up  a  steep  by  a  staircase  cut 
out  in  the  form  of  a  Cross 
they  climbed,  and  above  that 
was  the  great  pearl  gate  of 
the  City,  and,  round  and 
round  about,  its  shining 
walls.  As  they  entered,  still 
twining  arms  together,  I  saw 
that  they  were  amazed  with 
a  great  awe, — the  one  at  what 


he  heard  fur  the  firs 
the  other  at  what  she 
on.  And  just  ere  they 
away  from  me  in  the  i 
I  asked  one  near  me  m 
he  could  tell  me  augh 
them. 

*^  Their  names,"  sai 
reply,  "are, — the  bo; 
son ;  the  girl,  Faith, 
out  her  brother,  Faitl 
have  sufiered  greatly- 
out  his  sister,  Heasor 
have  perished.  Bu 
are  both  now  wher 
hear  heart  to  heart,  f 
face  to  face ! " 

As  he  spoke,  my 
passed  away,  but  I  r 
to  write  it  down  as 
simply  tried,  now 
little  readers  to  take 
key  of  the  two  nan 
go  back  over  the  8t( 
plaining  it  all.         V 

iVoftf— For  the  hint  of 
allegory  I  am  indebted 
fientences     in      Henry 
"  Reasun  wd  Faitli." 


®&rw  Pari  Harbs. 


fHICH    do    you 
suppose  are  the 
three     hardest 
words  to   pro- 
nounce in  the  English  Ian- 
giiage,  my  blue-eyed  boy  ?  " 
a^ked  a  mother  of  her  son 
one  day. 
**  There  are  bo  many  hard 
oaea — real  jaw-breakers — I 
ISO 


can't  select  the  1 
mother,"  replied 
with  a  puzzled  look. 
**I  dare  say  you  tl 
my  son,  ior  you  ha 
attention  fixed  on  1< 
words  of  five  or  six  s; 
But  my  question  d 
refei  to  ^ot^%  olS  ^\^« 
^  and  mway  %^^«Xi\« 


THE  B4IIBATH  80HOI«iJi'B  TRBA8UBT. 


of  the  words,  I  think  the 
hardest,  are  very  short,  and 
the  third  only  contains  three 
ijUables." 

Arthur  was  more  puzzled 
than  ever.  After  knitting 
his  brow  and  silently  think- 
ing the  matter  over  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  he  looked  up 
aod  Raid : 

»•  Well,  I  can't  think  which 
they  are.  Please  tell  me, 
mother  ?  •* 

"  *  I  was  mistaken  1  *  These, 
my  9on,  are  the  three  hardest 
words  in  our  language." 

•*Why,  mother!  how  can 
ynu  say  so  ?  I  can  say  them 
as  easily  as  I  can  say  pop. 
Hear  me — *  I  was  mistaken!" 

"Arthur,"  said  the  lady 
gravely,  **look  yonder!" 

She  pointed  toward  a  dead, 
leafless  peach-tree  which 
stood  in  the  garden,  and 
then  added : 

^'Toa  see  that  tree  is 
dead.  Do  you  remember 
that  when  you  hacked  its 
bark  with  your  new  hatchet 
I  told  you  it  would  die ;  you 
laughed,  said  ynu  guessed  it 
would  n*t,  and  gave  it  several 
more  cuts?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  recollect." 

**  Well,  ynu  see  it  is  dead. 
Suppose  you  now  try  lo  pro- 
nounce my  three  hard  words, 
my  son." 

«  Well-I  didn't  think—" 

*'But  those  are  not  the 
words,"  said  the  lady,  inter- 
rupting him. 

Arthur  blushed,  held  down 
his  head,  coughed,  and  after 
M  minate  or  t  wo  said : 


"  Ahem,  hem  I  I  was 
mistaken,  mother,  and  1 
was  wrong  too.  Will  you 
please  forgive  me  for  cutting 
the  tree  ?  '* 

"Certainly,  ray  son.  I 
forgive  you  if  you  really 
regret  your  mistake  and 
your  sin,  and  I  want  you  to 
keep  in  mind  the  truth  that 
it  is  far  better  and  nobler  to 
confess  freely  a  fault,  a  mis- 
take, or  a  sin,  than  to  hide  it 
until  it  is  brought  to  light. 
But  tell  me  what  you  think 
nowof  my  three  hard  words?'' 
"They  are  very  hard 
words,  mother.  It  almost 
choked  me  to  say  them. 
Tm  glai  I  did  though.  I 
feel  better  for  having  said 
them." 

To  be  sure  he  did.  No- 
thing is  nobler  than  owning 
our  faults  or  mistakes,  ex- 
cept not  to  commit  them. 
King  Frederick,  of  Prussia, 
once  lost  a  great  battle. 
Standing  up  before  his  sena- 
tors, he  said : 

''  Gentlemen,  the  battle 
was  lost  by  my  fault  1 " 

That  was  noble.  No  doubt 
it  was  a  very  hard  thing  lor 
him  to  say,  but  saying  it 
did  him  more  honour  than 
all  the  victories  he  had 
won.  So  Oliver  Goldsmith 
thought.  So  I  think.  If 
you  think  so.  go  ask  God  to 
keep  you  from  faults  and 
sins ;  but  if  you  sin  ask  him 
for  grace  to  say  those  three 
hard  words,  *•  I  -was  xi\\%- 
taken,"  or  *'  I  was  YfTox\g'' — 
Sunday  School  Advocate. 

131 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUBT. 


%  Crtimb  jof  Cnmfet  Ux  ^vdl  fogj 


r-OUGLAS  JER- 
KOLD  was  con- 
sidered a  dull  boy; 
at  nine  years  of 
age  he  could  scarcely  read. 
Goldsmiih  was  a  very  un- 
promising boy.  Dryden, 
Swift,  and  Gibbon  in  their 
earliest  pieces  did  not  shew 
any  talent.  The  mother  of 
Sheridan,  herself  a  liierary 
woman,  pronounced  him  to 


be  the  dullest  and 
hopeless  of  her  sons 
father  of  Barrow,  the  ( 
preacher  and  writer, 
to  have  exclaimed,  ' 
please  God  to  take  i 
my  children,  I  hope  i 
be  Isaac."  The  injw 
parent  regarded  the  Ja 
miracle  of  stupidity,  1 
afterwards  proved  to 
glory  of  his  family. 


132 


guilt* 

GRACIOUS  Shepherd  !  bind  us 

With  cords  of  love  to  Thee, 
And  evermore  remind  us 
How  mercy  set  us  free. 
O  may  Thy  Moly  Spu-it 

Set  this  before  our  eyes, 
That  we  Thy  death  and  merit 
Above  all  else  may  prize. 

We  are  of  our  salvation 

Assured  through  Thy  love ; 
Yet  Oh  !  on  each  occasion, 

How  faithless  do  we  prove. 
Thou  hast  our  sins  forgiven, — 

Then,  leaving  all  behind. 
We  would  press  on  to  heaven. 

Bearing  the  prize  in  mind. 

Grunt  us  henceforth,  dear  Saviour, 

While  in  this  vale  of  tears. 
To  look  to  Thee,  and  never 

Give  way  to  anxious  fears. 
Thou,  Lord,  wilt  not  forsake  us. 

Though  we  are  oft  to  blame, 
Oh .'  let  Thy  love  then  maVLQ  ua 
Hold  fast  Thy  falili  and.  name. 


a  IfittU  iSitl'3  <But>  i«b. 

METaway  with  jon,  i  boy  not  more  than  «leTen 
you  dirty  beggfu-  I  yean  old,  and  though  people 
bojl  I'd  like  tu  *omeiin>e<  called  It  hand- 
V  what  right  you  hare  to  toa»,  hli  faoe  loc>k«d  vety 
orer  ti«  fence  at  our  b»nh  and  diaagTeMbVe  ia»\. 
■«''  .'  then. 
^tester  wm  a  Jilth  I  Be  atood  in  a.  b^TrtWli. 
\SS 


V 


THB  SABBATH  80H0I.AR'8  TBBABUBT. 


garden  just  in  the  suburbs 
of  the  city,  and  it  was  June 
time,  and  the  tulips  were 
just  opening  themselves  to 
the  sunshine.  A  white 
paling  ran  in  front  of  the 
garden,  and  over  this  the 
little  beggar  boy  so  rudelj 
addressed  was  leaning.  He 
was  very  lean,  very  dirty, 
very  ragged.  I  am  afraid, 
little  children,  you  would 
have  turned  away  in  disgust 
from  so  repulsive  a  spectacle, 
and  yet  God  and  the  angels 
loved  him. 

He  was  looking,  with  idl 
his  soul  in  his  eyes,  on  the 
beautiful  blossoms  as  they 
swayed  to  and  fro  in  the 
summer  wind,  and  his  heart 
softened  while  he  leaned  his 
arm  on  the  fence  railing  and 
forgot  everything  in  that 
long,  absorbed  gaze.  Ah ! 
it  was  seldom  the  beggar 
boy  saw  anything  good  or 
beautiful,  and  it  was  sad  his 
dream  should  have  such  a 
rude  awakening  as  it  did 
when  the  rich  man's  boy 
spoke  as  he  did. 

The  blood  rushed  up  to 
his  face,  and  a  glance  full  of 
evil  and  defiance  flashed  into 
his  eyes.    But  before  the  boy 

Z     could   retort,  a    little   girl 
sprang  out  from  the  arbour 
BDd  looked  eagerly  firom  one 
134 


child  to  the  other.  She  was 
very  fair,  with  soft  hazel 
eyes,  over  which  drooped 
long,  shining  lashes.  Bich 
curls  hung  over  her  bare 
white  shoulders,  and  her  lips 
were  the  colour  of  the  crim- 
son tulip-blossoms. 

^  How  could  you  speak  so 
crossly  to  the  boy,  Hinton  ?  '* 
she  asked,  with  a  tone  of  sad 
reproach  quivering  through 
the  sweetness  of  her  voice. 
**  I  am  sure  it  doesn't  do  us 
any  harm  to  have  him  look 
at  the  flowers  as  long  as  he 
wants  to." 

"Well,  Helen," urged  the 
brother,  slightly  mollified 
and  slightly  ashamed,  **I 
don't  like  to  have  beggars 
gaping  over  the  fence.  It 
looks  so  low." 

'*Now  that's  all  a  notion 
of  yours,  Hinton.  I'm  sure 
if  the  flowers  can  do. any- 
body any  good  we  ought  to 
be  very  glad.  Little  bqy," 
and  the  child  turned  to  the 
beggar  boy  and  pressed  him 
as  courteously  as  though  he 
had  been  a  prince,  **  111  pluck 
you  some  of  the  tulips  if 
you'll  wait  a  moment.** 

**  Helen,  I  do  believe  that 
you're  the  funniest  girl  that 
ever  lived  1 "  said  the  child's 
brolYvei  a«  \i^  Vocrafid  %.waT,    . 
andwV\.Yks^\oyiHi\AaV)^««QaDL-  ^ 


THB  lABSAXH  ■OHOI.AK'b  TSBASUBT. 


own  the  path,  feeUng 

Dcomfortable. 

n  plucked  one  of  each 

en  of  the  tulips  and 

iCTd  to  the  child.  His 

ghtened  as  he  received 

nd  thanked  her. 

the  little  girl  had 
d  a  *' pearl  of  great 
into  the  black,  turbid 

of  the  bo7*s  life,  and 
er  years  should  bring 
beau  iful  and  bright 


Ito  years  had  passed, 
tie  blue- eyed  girl  had 

into  a  tall,  graceful 
I.  One  bright  June 
on,  she  walked  with 
uband  through  the 
y  for  she  was  on  a 
o  her  parents.  The 
was  little  changed, 
e  tulips  had  opened 
lips  of  crimson  and 
>  the  sunshine  just  as 
id  done  tw^ve  years 
Suddenly  they  ob- 

a  young  man,  in  a 
an's  blue  overalls, 
;  over  the  fence,  his 
indering  eagerly  from 
lutiful  flowers  to  her- 
9e  had  a  frank,  plea- 
untenance,  and  there 
mething  in  bis  man- 
t  Interested  the  gen-' 
\ad  lady,  \ 


"^Look  here,  Edward," 
she  said,  **ril  pluck  him 
some  of  the  flowers.  It 
always  does  me  good  to  see 
people  admiring  them ;"  aod, 
releasing  her  husband's  arm, 
she  approached  the  paling, 
saying,  —  and  the  smile 
round  her  lips  was  very  like 
the  old,  child  one-** Are 
you  fond  of  flowers,  sir  ?  It 
will  give  me  great  pleasure 
to  gather  >ou  some.** 

The  young  workman 
looked  a  mooient  very  ear- 
nestly into  the  fair,  sweet 
face.  **  Twelve  years  ago 
this  very  month,"  he  said,  in 
a  voice  f^eep,  and  yet  tremu- 
lous with  feeling,  **  I  stood 
here,  leaning  on  this  railing, 
a  dirty,  ragged,  little  beggar 
boy,  and  you  asked  me  this 
very  question.  Twelve  years 
ago  you  placed  the  bright 
flowers  in  my  hands,  and 
they  made  a  new  boy,  ay, 
and  they  have  made  a  roan 
of  me  too.  Your  face  has 
been  a  light,  ma'am,  all 
along  the  dark  hours  of  my 
life ;  and  this  day  that  little 
beggar  boy  can  stand  on  the 
old  place  and  say  to  you, 
though  he's  a  humble  and 
hard  working  man,  yet^ 
thank  God,  he's  an  \\oii«%\i 
one." 

Teaivdropa  tremVAed  ^ito 

185 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOIfAE'S  TBBASUBT. 


morning  dew  on  the  sliining 
lashes  of  the  lady  as  she 
turned  to  her  husband,  who 
had  joined  her,  and  listened 
in  absorbed  astonishment  to 
the  workman*8  words.  **God,** 
she  said,  **put  it  into  my 
child-heart  to  do  that  little 
deed  of  kindness,  and  see 
now  how  great  is  tli'e  reward 
that  He  lias  given  me." 

And     the     setting     sun 
poured  a  flood  of  rich  purple 


light  over  the  group  that 
stood  there — over  the  work- 
man in  his  blae  oyeralls, 
oTer  the  lady  with  her 
golden  hair,  and  oyer  the 
proud'looking  gentleman  at 
her  side.  AUogiether  it  was 
a  picture  for  a  painter,  but 
the  angels  who  looked  down 
on  it  from  heaven  saw  some- 
thing more  than  a  picture 
there.  —  From  the  Sundaif 
School  Advocate, 


*",/-^y-    /'./"./^.-'^^  ' 


f ifiltittg  a  fantp. 


^NE  evening  I  saw  a 
Ijr    lamplighter  going 
^    his    round.       He 
was  not  alone,  for  a  little  boy 
ran  by  his  side — whose  great 
desire  it   evidently   was  to 
»hare  in  his  work.    For  some 
time  nothing  was  given  him 
to  do,   though    I   think  he 
made  repeated  requests;  at 
length  on  reaching  the  foot 
of  a  lamp- post,  tlie  man  put 
his  lantern   into  the  boy*s 
hand,  and  bade  him  run  up 
tiie  ladder.     So  eagerly  did 
the  little   fellow  climb  the 
stops,  light  the  lamp,  and 
slip  down  again,  and  then 
with  a  pleased  face  look  up 
.      at  the  light ;  and  thus  after 
/     that  they  went    along   the 
/     street  the  man  carrying  the 


ladder,  the  boy  lighting  the 
lamps.  The  lamplighter's 
work  must  have  been  over 
sooner  than  usual  that  even- 
ing, and  with  less  fatigue. 

There  is  room,  then,  thought 
I,  for  the  young  to  do  some- 
thing ;  boys  can  light  lamps 
as  well  as  men;  they. can 
help  at  all  events.  Yes,  dear 
young  friends,  Jesus  Christ, 
the  kind  shepherd  of  the 
lambs  as  well  as  sheep  of  the 
flock,  would  haveyou  employ 
your  youth  for  him ;  young 
as  you  are,  you  may  help  to 
spread  the  light  of  truth.  I 
have  read  of  a  boy  who  died 
very  young,  ^but  not  before 
God  had  touched  hit  heart 
by  Y\\B  gi«kc«  «kXi^\«&  ViVok  to 

3eau%  \\Yi«A.\\VX\a>aQ!j^%.%\wK% 


trang^  wonld  allow,  I  TillajNi  are  Uoght.  TbcM 
^Cbar  bii  [dttf  idUm  dear  children  ue  beliuag  to 
(Nd-fetlaws  roDad  hti  light  lampi  ia  that  tti  and 
I  (peak  to  tkem  about  diituit  land.  AndtlwivaM 
oh  and  lore  to  Je>u(.  '  manj  otber  «■;*,  mf  jaaag 
ct^ing  to  light  lamp*  readera,  in  whidi  yon  may 
lis  thort  day  laited.  at  leMt  be  like  tite  littl*  buy 
y  achooli  tbere  li  a  who  hdped  ihe  lamplighter, 
I  miuionary  aaaoeia-  and  take  tome  humble  part 
id  the  cliildreo,  of  in  the  work*  of  mercy  In 
'oaccMd,  bring  their  .  which  your  elden  are  *d- 
»  help  to  tend  the  '  gaged.  Happy  if  God  gire 
.0  the  lieathen ;  and  ,  you  grace  thus  to  t«tie  him 
eeu  toldofoaeMhool  ;  early !  Happy  and  highly 
latry  pariih  in  Eng-  i  favoured  if  he  be  pUaacd,  in 
lichentirelyBupporti  <  the apringiimeof your yeara, 
1  in  India,  in  which  to  employ  you  in  diuug  good 
Ireo  of  two  adjoining  |  to  ioaU.~Tke  Ltm^ghltr. 


toicc  of  oxit  iffirgtnfi  in  t^e  JffitUrcmws. 

TRT  OF  Hie  BiBR."     |  and     about     midway     be- 
S   the  vaat   deaert  j  tween  the  old    atatloa    oC 
atietchiivtbivufA  /  JIfr.  MoBU,  famout  for  hw 
»Aa(     i»     called    atit^anaxj    toils  — a.nd   th« 
Soath  Afrloa,  /«Mtfonmad«jetou>Tef&Toottft 
_^ 181 


\ 


THB  SABBATH  ■OHOI.AB'S  TBBAIUBT. 


in  late  years  by  Dr*  Living- 
stone—  there  is  settled  a 
noble  and  devoted  man  of 
whom  our  readers  have  from 
time  to  time  heard — theHev. 
Mr.  Ross.  He  was  ordained 
and  sent  out  to  Africa  twenty 
years  ago— and  all  this  time 
he  has  been  stedfast  on  his 
watch  tower  in  the  heathen 
wastes.  He  cannot  receive 
or  send  away  a  letter  without 
despatching  a  messenger  a 
hundred  miles — his  nearest 
post  being  all  that  distance 
from  him  I  He  lives  in  the 
veiy  heart  of  the  wild  tribes. 
He  teaches,  preaches,  and  in 
every  way  as  God  gives 
him  power  makes  disciples. 
Sometimes  it  is  under  the 
shade  of  a  tree — sometimes 
in  a  large  war  encamp;nent 
—  sometimes  in  the  wild 
festivities  of  a  village — that 
his  voice  is  heard  proclaim- 
ing Christ.  Or  again  with- 
out wearying,  you  see  him 
in  his  litUe  school,  the  black 
children  round  him  in  an 
eager  group,  and  he  pouring 
into  their  hearts  the  tale  of 
Him  who  said—*'  Suffer  little 
ones  to  come  unto  Mel" 

JOUBNETINGS  AND 
SUCOBSSBS. 

Tlirougb    all    the    broad 

nfgioa  he  ia  constantly  mov- 
138 


ing  from  point  to  point.  It 
is  amazing  from  his  simfde 
letters  to  learn  what  are  the 
distances  he  traverses  with- 
out a  murmur,  and  at  how 
many  points  he  has  planted 
downs  seed  of  gn^ace  that  will 
surely  one  day  spring  into 
a  great  harvest.  Here  he 
receives  into  the  church 
eight— there  ten— and  at  a 
third  spot  as  many  as  twenty- 
two.  He  speaks  of  his 
classes  for  catechising  these, 
and  his  prayer  meetings 
amongst  them  in  the  early 
morning,  with  touching  sim- 
plicity. At  Taung,  his  main 
post,  where  he  dispensed  the 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  at  the  beginning  of 
this  year,  he  says,— **  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  morning 
service,  I  baptised  nine  men, 
nine  women,  and  nine  child- 
ren, rather  a  strange  coin- 
cidence. And  now  100 
members  joined  in  the 
celebration." 

THB  0ONTBA8T. 

Of  this  he  speaks  as  fol- 
lows : — 

When  I  first  visited  the 
above  town  Taung,  my  far- 
thest inland  station,  on  llth 
June  1842,  it  was  out-and- 

a  dance  Yi«A  \M^sn.  %5&fi%  ti& 


THB  ftimiATH  tOHOLAB'S  XBSAftUBT. 


fs  in  honour  of  Ma- 
[the  chiefX  who  was 
nng  on  a  hunt,  and  to 
a  commando  against 
».  Tet,  full  of  zeal, 
3  bold  to  ask  Mahura 
rould  allow  the  people 
ailed  to  hear  the  word 
1  on  Sabbath  morning, 
nswered  me  in  the 
ve.  The  heathen  dance 
ween  fortj  and  fifty 
1  then  began  with 
I  immediately  left  my 
n,  and  went  out  among 
iages.  I  returned  and 
would  now  preach  to 


him  and  liis  people,  if  he 
pleased.  He  said,  "It  is 
well,  it  is  welL"  I  then 
proclaimed  my  message  from, 
"  Sirs,  what  must  I  do  to  be 
saved?"  I  was  informed 
that  Mahura  shed  tears. 
After  the  labours  of  the 
day,  tired  and  wearied,  and 
lonehf,  yet  not  alone^  I  grate- 
fully retired  to  my  waggon 
to  rest,  hoping  yet  to  see 
them  rejoice  in  embracing 
the  great  salvation. 

NoTB.~Tbe  above  particulars 
are  kindly  sent  us  by  the  Uev. 
Mr.  Fisher  of  Flisk. 


^\t  fijljt  mn  ^f!i  iffiin. 


LITTLE  girl  once 

said,  '*0,  mother, 

how  very  hard  it  is 

to  do  right  1 1  don*t 

»    I    shall     ever    be 

ave  you  really  tried, 
?ar?"  "O,  yes,  I  try 
day.  When  I  awake, 
1  get  up,  I  say  to  my- 
I  will  be  good  all  the 
I  will  be  gentle  and 
I  will  obey  my  parents 
teachers.  I  will  not 
sL  I  will  always  tell 
ith.'  But  then,  mother, 
t  know  how  it  is,  I  do 
sn  forget.  Then  when 
ig  comeji^  I  have  to 
There  now!  what  is 
9  of  trjring?  I  bare 


been  in  a  passion.  I  have 
been  disobedient:'  and  once 
or  twice,  mother,  you  know, 
I  have  said  what  was  not 
truer  The  dear  child 
seemed  very  much  ashamed 
while  saying  this:  so  her 
mother  looked  kindly  at  her. 
and  only  said,  *'  My  dear,  I 
do  not  think  you  have  begun 
right."  The  little  girl  looked 
up  wonderlngly;  and  her 
parent  went  on :  '*  The  first 
thing  is  to  have  a  new  heart : 
have  you  asked  for  this?" 
"No,  mother,  I  am  afraid 
not."  **  Then,  my  child,  do 
so  at  once  Good  fruit,  yo^ 
know,  can  only  come  from  a 
good  tree.  If  your  hean  \a 
wrong,  your  conduct  'wVW.Y^ 


THB  •ASBiiTH  SOHOLAS'S  T«BA8UBT. 


wrong.  Toa  cannot  make  k 
riglit  yourself,  with  all  your 
|2:ood  resoiutioDS.  But  ask 
God,  for  Christ's  snke,  to 
help  you.  He  will  give  you 
His  Holy  Spirit,  and  you 
will  not  find  it  any  longer 
impossible  to  do  right."  I 
um  glad  to  say  that  the  child 
.took  her   mother*^   advice. 


That  very  day  «he  asked 
<xod,  earnestly,  to  chaDfEe 
her  hearty  and  help  her  to 
do  right.  She  prayed,  she 
watched,  she  strove  hard 
against  lier  sins,  and  was 
able,  by  Ood's  ?race,  to  lead 
the  life  of  a  lovely  young 
Christian.  —  Band  of  Hope 
Review. 


1 


f 


HERE  is  an  eye  that  never  sleeps 
Beneath  the  wing  of  night ; 
There  is  an  ear  that  never  shuts, 
When  sinks  the  beams  of  light. 


There  is  an  arm  that  never  tirps, 
When  human  strength  gives  way  ; 

There  is  a  love  that  never  fails, 
When  earthly  loves  dec«iy. 

That  eye  is  fix'd  on  seraph  throngs ; 

That  arm  upholds  the  sky ; 
That  ear  is  filled  with  angel  «ongs ; 

That  love  is  thron'd  on  high. 

But  there*8  a  power  which  man  can  wield. 

When  mortal  aid  is  vain, 
That  eye,  that  arm,  that  love  to  reach, 

That  listening  ear  to  gain. 

That  power  is  prayer ;  which  soars  on  high 

Through  Jesus  to  the  throne, 
And  moves  the  hand  which  moves  the  world, 

To  bring  salvation  down. 


Ejm  OF  yoT*.  1. 


klJratI  Bcloln's  Crwsarj 


JtrVENILJ  MISSIONAEI  EECOBL 


®6t  «Ii!«rJt6  of  ^toHtitit. 


EDINBtlBGH: 
PAros-Am  iiTCHIE.  SI  MIKCES  8TEIET. 


i  . 


INDEX. 


iii  the  Way, 

len "    . 

Charge, 

Letter  fk'om  Central 
Africa, 
in  the  Ark  ? 
n  quite  ready  ?"   . 


PAOB 

81 

87 

108 

82 

20 

107 


the  other  Side     .  68 

[ome,  Tidings  from  a  17 

:elon,  The             .  51 

',  from  above          .  21 

Thanks,  The        .  52 

I  Ciobweb  across  the  49 

Buckle,  The,         .  127 

ig,  yet  not  consumed  ^  97 

South  Africa,  another 
'  from,        .  .  82 

South  Africa,  first  letter 
fc  Young  Missionary  in  183 
Paith.A     .  .  114 

Heathen  Foolishness,  122 
The  .  .  28 

a.  the  Storm  .  116 

(The)  across  the  Box      49 
to  Jesus    .  .  92 

L  Tree,  The  .         102 

d  in  Death  .  68 

rer.  Voyage  down  the  89 

Flower,  The           .  85 

le  Example  of  a    .  87 

attle           .  124 

r  for  Jesus  to  carry  me  "  48 
e  for  UB,  An  .         115 

e  (The)  of  a  Dog  87 

the  Mountain,  The  5 

)tter  from  a  Young  Mis- 
ty in  Central  South 
t,    .  .  .         185 

telling- Boot,  A    ,  125 

aererJ>rfr,  The  43 


' 

PAOK 

Gifts  sent  to  Smyrna 

59 

Glass  Houses 

188 

God  Counts 

181 

"  Gone  Home  " 

88 

Good  Beginning,  A 

58 

Good  Principles     . 

129 

Great  and  the  Small  (The),  or 

the  Necklace  of  Pearl 

7 

Grateful  Shoemaker  in  Spain    100 

Greater  Love  than  this 

69 

Grieve  not  the  Spirit 

90 

"Has  your  Sin  found  you  out  ?"  180 
Helmore  f  Mr),  Last  Lines  from  93 
Hidden  Treasure,  The  .  118 
Hilda  ...  25 

"  Him  that  overcometh  '*  .  27 

Hindoo  Youth  (A)  taking  up  the 
Cross       ...  86 


"  I  have  no  Influence  ** 
India,  School  Feast  in 
"  It  does  not  continue  " 
"  It  wants  Cleaning  "  ' 


90 

99 

128 

16 


Johnny  and  the  Blue  Marble  42 

Labourers  at  Sealkote       .  58 

Last  Lines  from  Mr  Helmore  98 

Law  (The)  of  Kindness    .  114 
"  Lead  us  not  into  Temptation  "  77 

Little  Boy  drowned,  The  .  96 

LitUeRay,  The      .           .  129 


Memorial  Church  at  Sealkote  68 

Missionary  Apple-tree       .  79 

Missionary's  Home,  A  .  64 
Missionary  Plants  and  Gardens  67 
More  Tidings  from  a  Better 

Home      ...  18 

Mother's  Love,  A  .  Wft 

Mountain  Flower,  The     .  *l^ 
3foantai2i,  The  Fire  in  the  & 

New  Year  Letter  to  CbUdxen 


IT                                                                 IKDBI, 

"NoUMlnuleloHpim" 

'*"» 

'■Solbi^g    aWier    Gr6.l    o. 

181 

43F--''™- 

The    Childi^    tint    lielped 

Oqe  Brink  un^Qlhisr        . 

ttielr  Motlier       . 

loo 

"  Tho  Dogs  tut  D(  the  CnanlH 

■■Oathol^ryBrmk"        . 

JUaltT'hTablil"   "        . 

Pariahing   ulthln   reni^h   of 

TheDrijpo(I>BW. 

God'a  Ugh(        . 

Hymn       . 

LoYtrfJesDB     . 

Tl,«M8«lBitprfng 

"ThiWmt«d™="         , 

The  ^at  JubUeB          ; 

12 

Two  Gordons,  The 

Song  lit  our  PilBrimsBe 

TheMHiner'^Hjnm     . 

TTndcr  thB  rig-t™ 

tiijer,  A  Wmdertnl  Aa»w( 

to  117 

Voyage  (Tbe)  down  the  Ditdl 

Siint  {Tliel  and  Uio  Cohblet 

SivDd  b;  SoiDke    . 

Snjllilt  PrayerB,      . 

WslleruBdhla  Sorrow     . 

What  a  Utile  Boj  can  do 

s^IJ^m';?!", ,f  ^'""    ■ 

4? 

"What  w«  tan  never  Culdi 

■■■Whfll-wUljirado?"        . 

wm  it  tait  the  Binek  off  ?■• 

Will  yon  meet  ms  there  ?  " 

WoudCTmi  Answer  to  Prs7«i, 

Stoi7  o(  AbdslSli 

29 

Winter^  T.H.,  A    .           .    ' 

109 

Word  Pleinc  from  the  Old 

Teetammt 

B.™         .            .            . 

Work  ud  Play      , 

!ATH  SCHOLAE'S  TREASURY. 


fltiu  gear  Sttte  to  UHUirtii. 

dear  Childr«D —  |  and  eoduring.  Let  ni  try 
The  year  1860  is  '  to  And  iodw  New  Tmt 
ended  now,  and  an-  |  leiiona  tn  the  Mth  pialm. 
II  with  new  hopes  !  We  find  in  tbi«  pMlm  one 
Let  It  begin  |  flgure  running  through  it. 
I  In  the  fbunh  verte,  there 
I  then  worda— "For  a 
j  thoDHDd  fean  in  Thy  tight 
!  but  ai  yeaterday  wtten 
is  put,  and  ai  a  watcli  in 
'  the  night."  "  A  thoaund 
'9  as  yeaterday."  Life 
Kke  a  day.  Tliii  ii  the  figure 
,  we  hare  here.  Life  la  like  a 
|day- 

Fi-$L  It  ia  ao  to  the 
rf  you  with  pnd«e  I  eternal  God  who  aeei  both 
? — praiie  formercy  the  beginning  and  end  of  all 
r  fails— pr&yer  fur  |  tliing».  to  whom  past  and 
.  help"  in  days  to  I  present  an  equally  clear; 
It  so  it  may  be  for  I  l«  Him  one  day  Is  really  aa 
n  a  year  of  mach  I  a  Itionsand  yeara,  anA  %  \ 
imuBjae  in  the  I  thouta.nA  yean  aa  oae  day. 
oemottprectoaM  j     SuxtntL  It  ia  ao  to  n»,^»a- 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBASUBT. 


cause  the  events  of  our  lives 
follow  each  other  in  an  order 
very  like  that  of  a  day.  Let 
us  then  consider  life  as  a 
day,  under  the  following  five 
heads : — 

I.  Night  before  day -breaks 
verses  1-3. — Niglit  comes  be- 
fore the  dawn  of  day.  You 
can  understand  this.  It  was 
so  from  the  beginning  :  when 
God  made  the  heavens  and 
the  earth,  evening  came  be- 
fore morning.  "The  even- 
ing and  the  morning  were 
the  first  day."  **  Darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the 
deep/'  before  the  light  came. 
And  so  the  time  before  our 
own  birth  is  like  the  night  to 
us :  and  all  that  took  place 
before  that,  the  past  history 
of  man,  thecbanges^  sorrows, 
and  disappointments  of  life 
in  every  age,  teach  us  the 
vanity  of  human  hopes  and 
schemes,  and  bid  us  trust 
only  in  Him  who  in  all 
generations  has  been  our 
dwelling  place,  —  the  same 
God  from  everlasting  to 
everlasting,  the  only  abiding 
refuge. 

II.  Morning^  verse  5. — 
After  night  comes  morning, 
the  dawn  of  day ;  and  so  life 
be^Ds  with  its  morning — 

Childhood.       What    do  we 

know  of  morning  7  There  is, 
2 


firstj  the  freshness  of 
ing  air,  the  pure  soft 
difiTerent  from   what 
comes  in  the  more  ad'v 
hours  of  the  day.    Lil 
is  the  first  fresh  gladi 
a  child's  heart;  the  f 
love  and  trust  yet  untc 
by  the  world*s  trials. 

2d.  There  is  the  gi 
light  of  morning,  like 
"which  groweih  ttp.** 
the  morning  hours  ad 
the  light  grows  strong 
in  childhood  there 
growing  in  knowledgi 
the  cheerfulness  of  ho] 
promise. 

S(/.  The  life  of  ] 
**  In  the  morning  it  fio 
eth."  In  the  morning 
unfold  their  leaves, 
drink  in  the  gentle  dei 
heaven.  So  childboo 
morning  of  life,  is  thi 
when  the  flowers  of 
planting  will  flourish 
when  the  heart  it 
ready  to  receive  the 
seed,  and  the  refr 
showers  of  His  grace. 

4tA.  There  is  the  ai 
of  morning ;  it  growe 
There  is  no  weariness 
early  hours  of  day. 
ing  is  the  time  for  i 
for  life  and  energy. 
i  so  m  e\i\\^\ioQi^>  >i\v<e 
\  and  s\\  i\»  '^QiNi^c^  V 


THB  SABBATH  8CHOLAR*8  TRBA8UBT. 


and  vigorous,  free  and  nn- 
weariedy    able     for    active 
ezerdse.     Thej  cannot  be 
again,  later  in  the  day  of 
life,  what  they  are  in  child- 
hood's morning.    Therefore, 
how  important  it  is  that  they 
should  be  early  devoted  tu 
the  service   of    God.     The 
morning     quickly     passes 
away,    its  bright  freshness 
will  soon  fade:    how  care- 
fully, then,  should  you  use 
its    precious    hours ;    how 
anxiously    seek    to    begin 
life's  day  with  the  sun  of 
God's  love  and  the  hope  of 
heaven  shining  over  you  1 

III.    No<m^  verses  7-9. — 

After  morning  comes  noon ; 

so    after    childhood    come 

Touth  and  Manhood.    Tou 

might    expect   to    hear   a 

cheerful  account  of  noon,  of 

the  beauty  and  the  promise 

of  morning  perfected.    But 

alas,  it  is  not  so— and  why  ? 

because  of   sin,  and  God's 

anger  on    account   of  sin. 

**  We  are  consumed  b^  Thine 

anger,  and  by  Thy  wrath  are 

we  troubled."    The  rays  of 

the    noon-tide    sun    shine 

bright.    What  sun  is    like 

this  ?    Is  it  the  sun  of  which 

we  read    in    the    book    of 

Bevelations,      whose     soft 


"  God  is  fheir  sun,  whose  oheexing 
beams 
Diffuse  eternal  day  ?  " 

No,  it  is  the  burning,  scorch- 
ing holiness  of  God  tliat  is 
like  this  consuming  noon- 
tide sun.  When  the  noon- 
tide of  life  comes  and  finds 
the  morning  past,  and  the 
sinner  still  going  astray 
fh>m  God,  unreconciled  and 
unforgiven ;  then  God's 
holiness  shines  like  a  burn- 
ing sun — man  cannot  stand 
before  it  without  a  Mediator 
to  stand  between  him  and 
God;  but  ** though  God  is 
the  high  and  Holy  One,  who 
inhabiteth  eternity,"  He 
will  look  in  mercy  upon  all 
who  are  of  **  an  humble  and 
contrite  spirit " — and  who 
seek  Him  through  His  dear 
Son. 

IV.  Night,  verses  10,11 — 
Morning  and  noon  are  gone, 
and  night  comes  at  last. 
Old  age  and  death  are  the 
night  of  life's  day.  Old  age 
is  properly  meant  as  the 
night.  '*The  days  of  our 
years  are  threescore  years 
and  ten,"  &c.  But  death 
comes  to  many  in  the  bloom 
of  youth  and  strength,  and 
then  for  them  too  the  day  it 


past    How  needful  tYieu  \% 
hM/z7#  shine  over  the  Re-  I  it  that  we  should  work  'wYvW© 
deemed  in  gloTX^  lit  j,  ^^^^  ^^^^    ,,  ^^^  ^^^^^ 

8 


THB  SABBATH  FCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


Cometh  when  no  man  can 
work." 

V.  And  now,  my  dear 
children,  we  come  to  con- 
sider lastly,  what  the  lessons 
are  which  this  psalm  par- 
ticularly teaches  us. 

\8i.  We  are  to  number 
and  mark  days,  not  years — 
**  so  teach  us  to  number  our 
days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom/'  Num- 
ber chySf  and  years  will 
number  themselves ;  mark 
each  day  as  it  passes,  from 
morning  to  noun,  and  from 
noon  to  night.  Watch  each 
step  of  30ur  journey,  each 
word  and  action  as  you  go 
on  through  life,  and  by  God*s 
own  teaching  may  you  learn 
so  to  number  your  days,  and 
to  walk  by  faith  with  God, 
that  the  night,  when  it  comes 
at  last,  may  be  for  you  but 
the  entrance  into  the  light  of 
heaven. 

2d.  The  prayer  you  are  to 

offer    up — **  Oh    satisfy    us 

early  with  thy  mercy."   You 

have  much  work  to  do  and 

only  a  short  day  in  which  to 

do  it ;  therefore  lose  no  time, 

do    not    lose    the    morning 

hours  —  do     not    wait    till 

noon,  but  now  say  to  God, 

'*0h  satisfy  us  early  with  thy 

mercjr/'     Give  us  the  bless- 

Jog   that    will    fill  all   the 
4 


wants  of  our  hearts;  "Thy 
mercy,"  tbe  pardon  of  our 
sins  through  the  blood  of 
Jesus  our  Saviour, — Thy 
Spirit  to  renew  and  make  us 
holy, — Thy  love  to  abide  in 
our  hearts.  Give  us  this 
Thy  mercy  early  that  we  may 
rejoice  in  Thy  salvation  for 
ever.  Little  children,  this 
prayer  is  for  you;  the  pro- 
mise of  Jesus  to  every  child 
is  this,  "  those  that  seek  me 
early  shall  find  me." 

Sd.  Perhaps  some  of  you 
may  feel  that  it  is  too  late 
to  seek  your  Saviour  thus 
**  early,"  that  the  fresh  dawn 
of  day  is  past ;  that  you  have 
not  prayed  to  be  satisfied 
with  God's  "mercy,'*  but 
have  trifled  away  the  pre- 
cious morning  hours  of  life. 
Then  the  prayer  for  you  is 
here— verse  13:  "Betum, 
Oh  Lord."  Pray  for  the  re- 
turning of  God's  grace — His 
"  mercy"  never  f aileth.  **  The 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  Bis 
Son,  c)eanseth  us  from  all 
an." 

ith.  Are  you  loving  and 
serving  God  at  all?  Aie 
you,  though  AiU  of  weak- 
ness, sincerely  trying  to  do 
His  will  ?  Has  He  satisfied 
you  with  His  "  mercy,"  and 
given  >f  oM'^eskC^  In  believing! 


THB  SABBATH  S0aOLAB*fl  TRBABUBT. 


*^  Let  Thy  work  appear  unto 

Thy  servants,  and  Thy  glory 

onto  their  children,  and  Jet 

the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our 

God  be  upon   us,  and  esta- 

liah  thou  the  work  of  our 

hands  upon  us"     Do   not 

stand  still ;  pray  for  grace  to 

*' press  on  toward  the  mark" 

^pray    that   you    may  be 

made  strong  to  fight  against 

sin,  through    the   grace  of 

Jesus  your  Saviour,  »nd  that 

"  the   beaury  of  the  Lord," 

the  beauty  of  every  Christian 


grace,  of  love,  gentleness, 
and  peace,  may  be  upon  you. 
And  so,  my  dear  children, 
may  God  bless  and  keep  you, 
and  so  satisfy  you  '*  early" 
with  His  mercy,  that  morn- 
ing, noon,  and  night  of  life's 
short  day  may  find  you  His 
obedient  children,  prepared 
to  see  His  face  with  joy,  when 
He  comes  to  take  you  home. 
I  wish  you  all  a  happy 
New  Year — and  I  am. 
Your  sincere  friend, 

EVBLTN. 


AY ELLE  K  S     tell  i  little  cottages  seem  the  abode 


us,  that,  in  passing 
though  Italy,  they 
come  upon  the  prettiest 
villages,  built  on  the  sides 
and  at  the  foot  of  volcanic 
mountains — that  is,  moun- 
tains that  have  so  much  fire 


of  happiness  and  peace. 
There  are  plenty  of  men 
and  women  to  be  seen  busy 
with  their  daily  work,  and 
many  little  children  busy 
with  their  lessons  and  their 
play.     Now  you  will  say, 


in  them,  that  at  any  time  it  \  how  very  foolish  of  these 
may  burst  forth,  and  bury  |  people  to  build  their  houses 
these  villages  in  ruin.     To    there,  to  keep  their  minds  so 


look  upon  them,  you  iwould 
never  think  such  an  awful 
i^te  could  possibly  be  theirs, 
every  thing  looks  so  beauti- 
ful. The  sun  seems  to  shine 
almost  more  brightly  there 
than  any  where  else.    Ihe 


easy,  and  to  go  about  their 
daily  work,  careless  though, 
some  day,  the  mountain  may 
send  forth  a  torrent  of  fire, 
and  burn  them  and  their 
children  all  up.  How  cruel, 
you  aayf  of  the  fathers  atid 


gnsB  IB  growing  bo  green  on  /  mothers  to  let  then  cViWdxen 
/   tAe  mountain  aide,  and  the  j  run  such  a  risk,  instead  oi 

5 


TffR  SABBATH  OCHOLAK  8  TRBASORT. 


fleeing  with  them  immedi- 
ately to  a  place  of  safety. 
It  is  not  that  those  parents 
love  their  children  less  than 
others,  but  they  just  calm 
their  minds  with  the  thought, 
that  such  a  day,  if  it  comes 
at  all,  will  not  be  in  their 
lifetime,  and  so  they  go  on 
just  Hying  for  the  present. 

And  so,  dear  children, 
while  I  have  told  you  of 
what  travellers  tell  us  about 
Italy,  I  will  also  tell  you 
of  what  those  who  are 
travelling  towards  Zion, 
often  tell  us  of  Scotland. 
They  tell  us  of  whole  towns 
and  villages,  not  built  like 
those  I  have  told  you  of  on 
the  sides  of  volcanic  moun- 
tains, but  yet  running  the 
same  awful  danger  that  these 
did  of  being  consumed  with 
fire  from  heaven.  You  have 
all  read  the  awful  fate  of 
Sodom,  how  God  was  so 
angry  with  its  wickedness, 
that  he  sent  fire  from  heaven, 
and  burned  it  to  the  ground ; 
and  so  you  have  often  read 
in  the  Bible  of  the  great  day 
that  is  sure  to  come,  when 
the  earth  and  all  that  is  in 
it  will  be  burnt  up.  Is  there 
no  city  of  refhge  to  which 
you  can  flee?  Is  there  no 
place  of  safety  which  God  has 


provided  ?  You  res 
when  bodom  wasbui 
that  God  remembei 
servant  Lot,  and  pre 
place  of  refuge  in  a  li 
call  Zoar;  and  so,  dc 
dren,  has  God  prepi 
you  a  more  sure  i 
refuge,  to  which  He  ii 
you  to  flee  now,  eve 
Christ.  You  rememi 
that  when  the  childn 
ago,  were  cast  into  t 
furnace,  it  did  not  b 
hair  of  their  head ; 
there  was  one  neai 
even  the  Son  of  Go 
so,  when  this  gre 
dreadful  day  of  th 
comes,  you  have  not 
fear,  for  Jesus  will  ' 
you.  Oh !  let  no  oi 
you  back  from  this  i 
no,  not  even  your  fi 
mother,  but,  like  Lc 
he  fled  from  Sodon 
and  flee  for  refuge,  a 
all  your  friends  to  fi 
you.  Oh!  seek  hi 
all  your  heart  now,  1 
children  has  God  gii 
sure  promise,  "Thi 
seek  me  early  shall  fi 

Jesus,  Thy  blood  and  righ 
My  beauty  are,  my  gloric 
'Midst   flaming   worlds, 
arrayed, 


6 


Ob,  the  necklace  OF  PEARL. 

He  via  anibitioui  to  have 
nl|G    mighty   king   dwelt  |  tlie  world  ttiink  of  him  long 
^Pn    ^y    '^    e>^At    river    after  ho   wi*   deuil,  and  to 
idled   the    Nile,  hco VII   to    hare  his  name  har.dcd  dofin    \ 
'oaw^/sf  file  rirer^f  that     s»  tliat  of  a  jredt  king.     So     ^ 
Fuwe  fl&/  co<m(r/>  £gjrpt.  ,  be  thought  wilbiahitDBe«^» 


THE  Si^BBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TREA8URT. 


/ 


would  build  a  pile  of  stones 
that  should  reach,  like  the 
Tower  of  Babel,  nigh  to 
heaven.  The  work  accord- 
ingly was  set  about.  He 
gathered  thousands  of  slaves 
from  all  parts  of  Egypt; 
drove  them  like  cattle  into 
deep  quarries,  where  they 
dug  out  blocks  of  stone  with 
immense  labour ;  then  for 
mile^  and  miles  these  stones 
were  dragged  to  the  spot 
where  the  building  was  to  be 
reared,  hewn  into  shape, 
raised  one  above  the  other, 
till  after  the  toil  of  years, 
and  after  many  of  the  poor 
slaves  had  died  either  under 
the  crushing  work,  or  under 
the  cruel  lash,  the  mass  rose 
up  hundreds  of  feet  above 
the  bed  of  the  I^ile,  and 
became  one  of  the  famous 
pyramids  of  which  travellers 
speak  so  much.  What  a 
vast  monument  for  any  one 
man  to  raise  I  Tou  may  be 
sure  it  made  the  monarch, 
who  had  spent  human  blood 
and  enormous  treasures  of 
money  in  his  work,  proud 
to  see  its  sharp  peak  high 
against  the  sky.  There 
it  stands,  solid  and  awful, 
to  this  day.  Four  thousand 
years  sun  and  storm  have 
beaten  upon  it,  but  there  is 

scMTce  a  etaia  upon  its  brow. 
8 


It  stands  strong  a 
everlasting  hills.  It 
specimen  of  what  th< 
who  reared  it  meant  i1 
and  what  the  world  gei 
has  agreed  to  call — g 
Instead  of  thousai 
years  ago,  only  as  i 
yesterday,  there  diM 
little  child  beneath  tl 
of  a  very  humble  c( 
not  perhaps  more  tl 
dozen  people  in  the 
knew  anything  abou 
She  was  a  very  lovely 
child,  and  those  wh 
know  her  saw  that  wfa 
was  poor  and  plain  in 
she  wore  a  very  rich 
meut,  of  a  singular 
round  her  neck.  Wl 
stowed  upon  her  a  | 
rare?  Itwasastringc 
ingpearls,and  curious  < 
every  day  it  was  notio 
the  string  grew  larger, 
and  heavier.  The  chil 
self,  could  never  tell  h 
pearls  came  there, 
asked  she  smiled,  an( 
say  no  more  about  i 
that  she  felt  soft  angel 
now  and  again  conii 
of  the  air,  so  to  spei 
stringing  yet  anoth( 
another  pearl  on  her 
lace  till  it  had  becor 
.  beaxi\.\tQ\\3[v\iv%\\.wflLB. 
\  (Hd  \t  come  i^^xx^ 


TBB  SIBBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TRBA8URT. 


long  time  greatly 
d,  till  one  daj  at  I 
ipon  the  golden  haired 
ying  softly  asleep  on  a 

bank,  I  csught  sight 
)  shining  string,  and 
>g  it  gently  forth  a 
ray  I  discovered  hung 
its  front  a  plate  of 
ter  written,  on  which 
these  words  out  of  a 
)ook  : — **  Whatsoever 

axe  true,  whatsoever 

sre  honest,  what  so- 
bings  sre  just,  what- 
things  are  pure, 
lever  things  are  lovely, 
lever  things  are  of 
eport."  I  understood 
lole  story  now.    This 

child  of  Christ,  and 
)Ting  thoughts  and 
and  words  each  day 
ing  out  of  her  loving 

here,  had  He  taken 
f  one,  and  put  them, 
^is  own  hands,  into  a 
ms  ornament  round 
ck.  Not  one  stone  of 
all  but  was  marked 
irith  the  name  of  some- 
beautiful  and  gentle 
's  grace  had  helped 
)ly  child  to  do.  What 
ure  she  had  gathered 
;his  way  !  For  every 
a  her  necklace  she  had 
d  a  pearl  into  some 
pV  heart,  sad  had 


dropped  another  pearl  into 
the  treasury  of  heaven  !  So 
I  kissed  the  fair  brow  reve- 
rently, put  the  string  back 
within  the  folded  hsnds,  and 
went  on  my  way  thinking 
that  I  had  seen  there  in  that 
child  a  specimen  of  what  the 
world  knoweth  not.snd  what 
moFt  people  would  think  and 
speak  of  as  very  smalL  Put 
that  child  beside  the  pyramid, 
and  you  would  say  at  once, 
*'  the  Great  and  the  Small ! " 
Yet  I  dreamed  afterwards 
of  that  which  is  to  come,  and 
methought  I  beheld  the  two 
before  a  great  white  throne, 
the  mighty  monarch  and  the 
fair  little  child.  What  a 
difference !  For  all  his  pyra- 
mid nobody  knew  even  the 
king's  name.  Nobody  could 
tell  what  grave  he  had  come 
out  of,  and  he  would  have 
passed  away  unnoticed  had  it 
not  been  that  thousands  of 
poor  souls  he  had  trampled  on 
and  slain  cried  against  him. 
Indeed  every  stone  in  his 
huge  pyramid  seemed  to  find 
a  tongue,  and  to  cry  out  upon 
him  the  curse  of  blood.  How 
he  shrunk  and  shrivelled 
down  into  nothing,  and 
with  the  face  of  Him  who 
sat  upon  the  throne  twin^^ 
to  look  at  him,  \\ow  VkQ 
fell    into     the     yery     diOAt. 

9 


THB  BABBATH  SCHOLAR  B  TRBA8URT. 


On  the  other  hand,  the  un- 
known child  stood  upon  the 
the  steps  of  the^  throne. 
Every  eye  beheld  her  in 
her  loYeliness.  Pyramids 
and  kings  and  worlds  sank 
beneath  her.  From  her 
throat  she  touk  the  spark- 
ling necklace,  and  was  laying 
it,  with  eager  joy,  at  the  feet 
of  Christ,  when  out  of  the 
throne  broke  songs  of  wel- 
come, and  I  saw  a  company 
of  saints  who  had  known  the 
child  in  earth,  step  forth, 
take  up  the  necklace  as  it 
fell,  and  weave  into  a  crown 
of  richest  lustre,  which  the 
hands  of  Jesus,  taking  out  of 
their  hands,  placed  upon  the 
soft  brow  for  ever.  '*  Sweet 
child,"   said   the    Saviour's 


voice,  ''inasmuch  as 
these  things  unto  t 
did  them  unto  me !  " 
different  now  monar 
child ;  how  different  i 
works  of  their  handi 
world's  great  and  smcdl 
ing  places  in  the  day 
and  becoming  then  tl 
small  and  the  small  gr 
I  leave  my  little 
to  make  out  the  tale, 
that  as  it  begins  a  ne 
if  they  are  spared 
year's  end,  each  of  th< 
have  three  hundred  an 
five  pearls  then  stru 
a  necklace  round  thei 
I'hey  cannot  build  py 
but  the  least  of  the 
weave  a  string  of  pei 

1 


S^t\ix$\  Ifl^ng. 


WAS  a  selfish  boy— 
a  very  selfish  boy. 
I  was  always  pick- 
ing for  the  best  of 
everything  upon  the  table; 
and  if  there  chanced  to  be  a 
piece  of  cake  or  pie  larger 
than  the  rest,  I  was  sure  to 
get  it.  And,  instead  of  being 
corrected  in  this  very  un 
lovely  trait  of  character,  I 
was   encouraged    in    it.     I 
was  the  youngest  child,  and 
mjr  parents,  especially  my 
motber^  were  injudiciously 
10 


indulgent,  letting  m 
my  own  way  in  evei 
My  mother  could  m 
out  to  ride,  or  walk, 
without  being  obli^ 
my  importunity,  to  1 
with  her,  no  matt< 
undesirable  my  com| 
One  fine  summer* 
ing,  ray  mother  w< 
into  the  country  tc 
the  day  with  her  fri 
as  usual,  going  with 
passed    iVve  TEiQ»\ii\T 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBA8URT. 


the  woods  and 
but  presently  my 
got  me  into  trou- 
istroyed  my  hap- 

the  rest  of  the 
nner  I  was  seated 
ther's  side,  and  I 
usual,  be  helped 
bing    I    wished. 

one  thing  upon 
which  was  yery 
to  my  eyes,  and 
I  large  glass  dish 

beautiful  early 
.  I  was  extrava- 
d  of  apples,  and 

one  in  the  dish 
s  determined  to 
s  so  much  larger 
than  the  rest. 
Ii  was  passed  to 
r  before  any  of 
uid  I  embraced 
mity  of  grabbing 
apple  before  she 

one,  and  in  my 
t  a  dish  of  rasp- 
ill  over  the  snowy 
'  mother  coloured 
ion.  She  did  not 
3,  but  apologised 
ying,  '*  Johnny  is 
nate,  he  is  always 
lomething." 
mind,  it  is  of  no 
je,"  replied  my 
It,  Johnny,"  she 
Ling  at  me,  ''you 
I  the  apple  that  I 
or  your  mother. 
er  plate,  my  dear, 
mother  for  your- 

lan't,**  I  muttered, 
be  apple  tightly 
ujr  hands;   **it*B 


my  apple,  ain't  it,  mother  ? 
You  don't  want  it,  do  you?** 

**  No,  dear ;  you  can  have 
it  if  you'll  be  a  good  boy. 
Johnny  is  so  fond  of  apples,** 
she  added  apologetically, 
turning  to  my  aunt. 

My  uncle  looked  sternly 
upon  me,  and  fearing  he 
would  take  the  apple  away 
from  me.  I  left  the  table  and 
ran  out  into  the  garden,  and 
did  not  stop  till  I  had  reached 
the  further  end  of  it.  Then 
I  looked  at  the  apple  and 
smell  of  it,  and  finally.  I  bit 
into  it ;  but  01  it  was  bitter 
and  all  black  inside.  I  cried 
with  vexation,  and  rushing 
into  the  house  exclaimed : 

'*  See  what  a  mean,  bitter, 
black  apple  this  is  1  I  want 
another  I  *' 

But  my  aunt  said  there 
were  no  more. 

"Then  I'll  have  mother's,** 
I  exclaimed,  as  I  saw  hers  was 
but  partly  eaten.  **  Mother, 
give  me  yours ! " 

"  Well,  well,  Johnny,  take 
it;  it  11  taste  better  to  you 
than  to  me  I've  no  doubt," 
replied  my  mother,  handing 
it  to  me. 

**  Sister,  your  little  boy  is 
fair  outside,"  exclaimed  my 
uncle  sternly,  **but  mark 
my  words,  if  you  encourage 
him  so  in  his  selfishness 
much  longer  you  will  make 
him  as  black  and  bitter  in- 
side as  that  beautiful  apple." 

My  mother  withdrew  bet 
hand  and  i  ran  back  into  tV\e 
gardtn,  pondering  upon  t\\y 
uncie's  words,  which  1  did 

11 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'a  TRBASUBT. 


not  exactly  understand. 
Presently  my  fayourite  little 
cousin  came  in  search  of  me, 
and  putting  her  arms  around 
my  neck  and  kissing  my 
pouting  lips,  she  said : 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Johnny, 
that  your  apple  wasn't  good. 
I  wish  I  had  only  known  it, 
and  I  would  have  saved  mine 
for  you." 

"I  don't  care  anything 
about  the  apple,"  I  replied, 
feeling  ashamed,  I  hardly 
knew  why;  "but  what  did 
your  father  mean,  Ella,  when 
he  said  1  would  be  black  and 
bitter  like  that  ugly  apple?" 

*•  Why,  he  meant,  Johnny, 
that  if  you  had  your  own 
way  always,  and  were  so 
selfish  as  to  take  the  best 
and  biggest  of  everything, 


you  would  get  to  be 
wicked  boy,  and  ] 
would  love  you." 

From  that  momeiit 
was  a  change  in  my  i 
Ever  after,  when 
tempted  to  g^tify 
the  expense  of  an 
good,  I  thought  of  flay 
words,  and  I  wa3  re 
submit  to  any  s^- 
At  first  it  was  painf 
after  a  while  it  bee 
real  pleasure  to  me  t 
myself  in  every  way 
might  contribute  to  tk 
fort  and  happiness  of 
1  trust  there  are  not 
boys  as  selfish  as  J* 
but  if  there  are  I  hop 
will  resolve  like  him 
be  like  the  apple,  bla 
bitter  iuside.      Rbma 


>"  y-\y-^  -r ^^•w.T' 


12 


'^\t  (gnat  lubiUf. 

5*ER  the  gloomy  hills  of  darkness. 
Look,  my  soul,  be  still  and  gaze ; 
All  the  promises  do  travail 
With  a  glorious  day  of  grace. 
Blessed  Jubilee, 
Let  thy  glorious  morning  dawn ! 

Let  the  Indian,  let  the  Negro, 

Let  the  rude  barbarian  see 
That  divine  and  glorious  conquest 

Once  obtained  on  Calvary ! 
Let  the  Gospel 

Wide  resound  from  pole  to  pole  I 

Gird  thy  sword,  thou  Great  Deliverer } 

Win  and  conquer,  never  cease ; 
May  thy  lasting,  wide  dominions, 
Multiply  and  still  increaa^ 

Sway  thy  sceptre, 
Saviour,  all  the  -world  atoundl 


iilbil. 

t»R|hIIEyouii);  Hilda  had  i  hhiI  an  one  oTtlie  firat  wirm 
jSfl^     Icini;  been  cnnDiieH    niuriitiiKSof  Bprine,  hcrlighc 
^■^     to  acDuchofwe^rl-    steps  bounded  again  oi«tl.ltc 
^'"*     Bome  pain  and  tick-    muM-jfrown  walks  o(  \iet  it.-     '' 
1PM  bnt  lieMlth  bfgan  once    rourite  yrooiia,   AcWarTl'Q- 
«ue  a  glow  la  ber  cheek,  ;  iet  flowed  thiw^b  the  *Oo4, 
Sa 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAK  8  TRBABURT. 


and  its  little  waves  danced 
in  the  laughing  sunshine. 
Hilda  wat<  bed  with  delight 
the  sparkling  fish,  now  glanc- 
ing through  the  sunny  wa- 
ters, now  hiding  themselves 
amidst  the  cool  green  river 
weeds.  A  light  breeze  pass- 
ed over  the  wood,  and  played 
amidst  the  tender  green 
leaves  of  siring;  and  the 
little  birds  flew  gently  from 
bough  to  bought  and  carol- 
led their  sweet  wild  songs. 
"  Happy,  happy  creatures  I " 
cried  Hilda,  *'  how  sweet  are 
the  joys  of  Areedom,  and  I 
too  now  am  free;"  and  she 
bounded  along  with  a  lighter, 
firmer  step,  as  though  she 
would  shake  off  the  heavy 
load  that  pressed  upon  her 
young  life. 

At  this  moment  a  man 
entered  the  wood,  leading  by 
the  hand  a  lovely  boy. 
The  child  felt  all  the  bright 
glad  power  of  spring,  and 
the  merry  peals  of  his  laugh- 
ter mingled  with  the  song  of 
the  birds.  The  flowers  of 
the  thicket  soon  caught  his 
eye,  and  he  fain  would  have 
twined  for  himself  a  garland 
in  the  wood,  but  his  father 
held  his  hand,  nor  would 
sufler  him  to  leave  him  for 
a  mordent. 

Then  Hilda's  heart  was 
grieved.  *•  The  fishes  of  the 
stream,"  said  she,  ''  and  the 
little  birds  among  the 
branches,  follow  their  own 
wild  willy  and  rejoice  in 
blessed  freedom^  and  this 
aweet  child,  so  lovelier  fax 

26 


than  they,  walks  sa 
downcast,  his  buoyai 
all  dashed ;  methinks 
him  weep.*'  Her  eye  fo 
the  child  and  his 
through  the  winding ' 
The  wild  flowers  wer 
forgotten,  but  the  pat! 
rough  and  stony, 
instant  the  child  di 
his  father's  arm,  and 
saw  him  safe  folded 
bosom.  They  appr< 
the  moorland ;  but  th 
felt  not  its  keen  wii 
his  father's  cloak 
wrapped  around  hiu 
he  was  borne  rafel 
gently  over  every  dan 
pass. 

Hilda  now  no  more : 
ted  for  him,  the  sp< 
the  happy    woodland 
tures.      '•  There     is 
she  cried,  **  in  wild  tn 
but  a  deeper,  holier 
confiding,  denying  lov 
this  is   the  picture 
child."    I  too,  thougl 
saw  a  child ;  and  a  1 
felf-reprosch  fell  fro 
eye  as  she  thouglit  ho^ 
she  had  repulsed  the 
hand  that  guided  her. 
often,  when  my  Fatl 
held    me    back,"  salt 
^^  have  I  begged  him  t' 
me    alone  I      Alone : 
Father,"  she  exclaimec 
give  thy  wayward  chi 
hearken  not  to  her 
prayer;  let  her  rath 
the  sternest   grasp   < 
earnest  faithful  love.** 
peace  N7«i%\)t%«k.\.Vi^d  ii 
i  soul,  au^  \Xa  \iXmf^«X 


TBB  •ABBiTB  iOHOLAB  8  TRBA8URT. 


the  8weet  word  of 
^  I  will  neyer  leave 
r  forsake  thee." 
Ida's  step  were  less 
on  her  return,  her 
s  more  full  of  peace, 
f  er  was  heard,  the 
orrow  was  near,  and 


the  grasp  of  loTe  grew  stem, 
yet  was  she  not  left  alone ; 
and  in  the  conscious  presence 
of  chastening  love,  she  found 
a  tearful  joy,  for  which  no 
freedom  could  have  made 
Amends.— From  **  Doing  and 
SujffiUg:* 


Kff  pirn  tfeat  (^\itttamti\y 


^K  Y  of  you,  I  dare- 
say, have  read  the 
%XGry  of  the  great 
the  Bruce,  —  how 
sr  he  had  been  de- 
battle  many  times, 
\  fleeing  from  his 
he  took  refuge  in  a 
liere  he  lay  down, 
wearied,  to  rest, 
ights,  you  may  be 
"e  full  of  his  numer- 
res — the  many  times 
een  conquered ;  and 
aying  in  his  heart, 
;  give  up  this  hard 
I  have  been  over- 
lYhile  such  despair- 
ghts  as  these  were 
through  his  mind, 
ras  arrested  by  the 
d  efforts  of  a  little 
0  climb  up  to  the 
;he  barn,  and  there 
ts  cobweb.  At  first, 
ht  little  of  what  his  / 
fokiag  at;  but,  by  I 


and  by,  he  got  interested, 
when  he  Siiw  the  little  crea- 
ture so  many  times  climb 
up  so  far,  then  lose  its  bal- 
ance, and  fall  back.  This 
was  repeated,  I  think,  tweWe 
times;  but  the  spider  was 
not  to  be  overcome ;  he  still 
persevered  ;  and,  the  thir- 
teenth time,  he  conquered — 
reaching  the  place  where  it 
had  so  long  been  striving 
after,  in  vain,  to  spin  its 
web. 

**  What  a  lesson  has  this 
spider  taught  me,"  the  great 
hero  thought  to  himself.  ^  I 
will  yet  follow  its  example ; 
I  will  go  forth  again  to  fight 
the  battles  of  my  country ; 
and,  although  I  have  been 
already  so  often  defeated,  I 
may  yet  come  off  conqueror." 
With  such  new  resolves  as 
these,  he  again  went  foT\\\\ 
and  all  of  you  know  l\ie  endi 
of  the  story — bow  s\xccft%% 

^1 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASURT* 


followed  upon  tucoetB ;  and, 
fh>m  the  poor,  defeated,  and 
careworn  man  lying  alone  in 
the  bam»  we  soon  after  find 
him  king  upon  a  throne. 
Now,  I  have  told  you  this 
story,  as  I  wish  each  child  to 
learn  only  one  great  lesson, 
and  that  is,  that  you  have 
also  a  battle  to  fight — some 
great  enemy  to  overcome.  If 
I  could  see  into  your  hearts, 
I  would,  perhaps,  see  some 
difi^rent  evil  in  each  heart  to 
be  conquered.  I  would  find 
in  one,  bad  temper ;  in  an* 
other,  disobedience  to  pa* 
rents ;  a  third  given  to  tell 
lies;  a  fourth  unkind  and 
disobliging  at  home,  and 
many  other  faults  I  could 
mention.  If  you  look  up  the 
third  chapter  of  Revelations, 
you  will  see  a  great  deal  in 
it  about  ovircoming ;  the 
bright  prospects  that  are 
held  out ;  but,  you  will  ob* 
serve,  it  is  always  to  those 
wlio  overcome.  The  pro* 
miaes  Jesus  makesare  these : 
He  will  clothe  them  in  white; 
He  will  confess  them  before 
HU  Father;  He  will  make 
them  pillars  in  God's  temple 


above,  and  write  upc 
a  new  name ;  and 
great  promise  is—** 
that  overcometh  will 
to  sit  with  me  on  my  1 
With  such  a  sure  rei 
prospect,  will  you 
dear  children,  seek  t 
it  ?  Let  each  one,  1 
the  morning,  think,  i 
or  she  rises — ''Now  t 
have  this  sin  to  ov 
I  will  watch  agains 
will  pray  much  to  J 
strength  to  overcon 
And  although,  wh 
come  to  the  end  of  1 
you  may  look  back, 
how  often  you  have  1 
your  good  resolution 
discouraged ;  go  ai 
Jesus,  confessing  yc 
and  asking  Him  a 
help  you ;  and  you  h 
sure  promise*^*^  In  i 
things  we  are  moi 
conquerors  througl 
that  loved  us.** 

"  Blessed  is  the  mui  t 

comes, 

111  own  him  for  a  soi 

A  rich  inheritance  rewa 

l%e  cOTqwfiBta  ha  hat 


28 


THX  BABBATH  SCBOLAR'B  T&SABURT. 


5>t0rg  0f  itbaUafr. 


|N  the  Sanday-icbool  at 
ManeilleB,  France, 
in  which  there  are 
three  hundred  scho- 
Itn,  there  is  a  cUm  of  white 
children  directed  by  a  young 
black  boy,  who  wat  probably 
born  in  Darfour,  a  proTince 
of  Central  AfHca.  His 
name  is  Abdallah.  If  any 
one  asked  him  how  it  happen- 
ed that  he  was  at  Marseilles, 
he  would  answer:  <*  Because 
I  disobeyed  my  mother.  I 
thought  myself  wiser  than 
she.  When  I  was  a  rery 
little  boy,  she  said  to  me, 
'Abdallah,  ncTer  go  into 
jonder  wood,  for  there  are 
wicked  men  who  would  seize 
you.* 

**  But  one  day  that  wood 
looked  so  beautiful  to  me, 
with  its  palm  trees,  its  bril- 
liant flowers,  its  birds,  its 
monkeys,  and  its  paroquets, 
that  I  fbrgot  my  mother's 
advice  and  entered  it.  I 
was  then  seized  by  the  slare- 
dealers  and  sold  in  Egypt. 
Since  that  day  I  have  nerer 
seen  my  poor  mother,  nor 
had  any  news  of  her." 

In  Egypt  the  poor  child 
excited  the  compassion  of  a 
Marseilles  merchant,  who 
bought  him  for  forty  or  fifty 
francs  (about  £2)  and  carried 
him  to  France.  Every  slave 
who  touches  the  soil  of  France 
is  free.  Thus  Abdallah  ob- 
tsfaed  JU0  Jlibertjr,  and  his 


excellent  master,  whom  he 
attends  as  a  little  domestic 
servant,  sends  him  to  school 
every  afternoon.  He  is  a 
good  pupil,  and  three  years 
ago  the  prize  for  good  con- 
duct was  awarded  to  him  by 
the  Tote  of  all  his  school- 
fellows. As  regards  the 
Sunday-school,  his  teacher 
has  only  one  fault  to  And 
with  him,  and  that  is,  he 
learns  too  much.  While  the 
other  children  managed 
with  great  difficulty  to  re- 
peat six  or  eight  verses,  Ab- 
dallah had  learned  twenty- 
five  or  thirty.  He  has  per- 
seyered  in  his  eagerness  after 
instruction,  and  at  present 
his  desire  is  still  more  ear- 
nest to  press  onward  in  his 
studies.  And  for  what  end 
think  you?  That  he  may 
return  to  Africa  as  a  mission- 
ary. When  about  two  years 
ago,  M.  Daumas,  missionary 
f^om  Mekuatling,  in  the 
south  of  Africa,  passed 
through  Marseilles,  Abdallah 
was  very  much  interested 
in  all  he  could  tell  him  of 
his  country,  and  of  the  mis- 
sionary work  which  had 
been  done  there.  Aflter 
hearing  this,  Abdallah  sent 
to  him  all  his  little  savings 
to  go  in  aid  of  the  mission. 
They  amounted  to  four  shil- 
lings. M.  Daumas  at  first 
was  not  w\\\iik|^  to  \a^  «\V 
this  from  the  voox  "Xm*^  \  \aiX 


Tta  SABBATB  IOHOLAB'S  IRUIBSt. 


he  indsted  lo  much  upon  i 
giving  that  aum,  tb&t  It  WS(  j 
al  lact  accepted. 

A  propoial  Iras  made  at  a  I 
public  meeting  that  all  the  ' 
Hundaj-ichooli  of  France 
■hould  agree  to  adopt  Ab- 
dallah,  and  that  the  children 
In  them  should  lupply  the 
tundi  for  educating  him 
and  fitting  hioi  for  the  work 
of  a  mliaionaiy  If  God  : 
■hould  permit  to  him  the 
honour  of  labouring  among 
hit  countrymen  In  Africa.      | 


The  plan  va*  adopted 
applauae  by  all  the  ■ 
ciuldrenpreaentat  tliei 
iug.  The  Coramlttee  o 
Society  of  SuDday-«c 
took  up  the  niUEer,and 
1«  reaaon  to  hope  that  h 
contribution!  of  the  ' 
•ands  of  children  in  the 
testant  ichoolB  throof 
France,  enough  will  be  i 
to  train  this  youth  for  ' 
•errice  in  hli  natire  1* 
JuD.  Mitt.  Mag. 


•ud  [  den,  although  I   irata 
AlphoQio  to  hia    Cake  care   of  them,  d< 

-  - tixm  to  thrive?" 

"My  child,  "  repUe 
father,  "you  would  hi 
banitiome  floiren  in 
gulden  e«  fLm^iatiaatl 


&ther, 

my  Bister  Ame- 
lia's garden  ii  «o  much  hand- 
wmer  than  mine  F  Why  do 
r  Uoom  10  beautl- 


fully,  while  choae  in  my  gai- 1  If  you  ^itt&  iqii«&  ftvb  i 
so 


TRB  BABBATH  BCH0LAR*8  TBBABURT. 


bt  season,  and  cnlti- 
i  in  a  proper  manner, 
9t  enough  merely  to 
le  seed,  but  it  should 
)  in  the  early  spring, 
and  at  first  nroperly 
d,  and  afterward 
y  tended,  that  the 
oiay  not  grow  there- 

Iren,  your  minds  are 


like  a  garden.  Strire  to 
cultivate  them  while  you  are 
young,  for  as  you  advance  in 
years  it  will  become  more 
difficult.  Improve  the  springs 
time  of  your  life,  that  in  its 
summer,  autumn,  and  winter 
you  may  not  have  to  re- 
proach yourself  for  your 
past  negUgence. —  S.  S.  Ad- 
vacate. 


®ii  t\t  Iftg  irink. 


'  is  easy  to  save  one 
who  has  fallen  into 
the  flood  some  dis- 
tance above  the  cat- 
irhere  the  river,  not 
rying  to  the  fall,  flows 
r  on  its  way.     But 
down  the  difficulty 
s    great,  every  foot 
down  the  greater ;  for 
"ent  moves  with  faster 
nd  growing  force,  till 
ih  it  shoots  forth  with 
flight,  and  reaching 
ik  leaps  headlong  into 
g  gulf.    Now,  away 
the    mountains    I 
iuch  a  place  where 
ree  shepherd  brothers 
D  leap,  as  they  had 
>ne  from  rock  to  rock, 
the    narrow    chasm 
1  which  the  swollen 
rushed    onward    to 
1.  Bold  mountaineers 
oking  with    careless 
a  si^ht  which  had 
othen    dizzy,     one 
over  like  a  red  deer; 


another  followed,  but  alas !  his 
foot  slipping  on  the  smoothly 
treacherous  ledge,  he  stag- 
gered, reeled,  and  falling 
back,  rolled  over  with  a  sud- 
den plunge  into  the  jaws  of 
the  abyss.  Quick  as  light- 
ning, his  brother  sprang  for- 
ward, down  to  a  point  where 
the  waters  issue  in  a  more 
open  space  just  above  the 
crag  over  wbich  they  throw 
themselves  into  the  black, 
rock-girdled,  boiling  cavern. 
There,  standing  on  the  verge 
of  death,  he  eyes  the  body 
coming ;  he  bends  —  his 
arm  U  out  —  thank  God !  he 
has  him  in  his  powerful 
grasp.  Bravely,  brotherly 
done.  Alas!  it  is  done  in 
vain.  The  third  brother,  sad 
spectator,  of  the  scene,  saw 
him  swept  from  his  slippery 
footing ;  and  in  their  death, 
not  divided,  as  of  old,  they 
bad  lain  in  their  childhood, 
locked  in  each  othera  aima, 
thejr   went     over,  hottlbXy 

SI 


T^B  BAB^ATH  SCHOLAR  fl  TRBA8|TI^T. 


wbelqaie^  in  the  depths  pf  the 
swirling  ppoi*  NQt  so  per- 
ished QUr  t]^eT  Brother  and 
the  thief  He  stretcl^fd  out 
His  ^mid  to  save.  He  plucked 
him  fropa  the  hrink  of  hell ; 
He  saved  him  on  the  dizzy 
edge  of  the  jdreadfol  pit. 
Poor  wretch,  ah!  iie  hangs 
ahpre  the  gulf;  he  is  half 
over;  just  then  he  turns  a 
dying  eye  on  a  dying 
Saviour,  and  utters  but  one 
cry  for  help.  The  arm  of 
mercy  seizes  him;  he  is 
saved ;  now  heaven  holds  him 


cronmed  in  glory.  "^ 
reyeliitionof  Jesup,  as  I 
press  image  pf  Hii|i  w'. 
power  to  saye  it  the 
uttermost !  What  a] 
couragement  to  joji^  t 
the  chief  of  sinners,  t 
yourselves  at  Je^«*8 
Dpit,jdoitiiDw.  Mfj) 
help  you  to  do  it 
Apotikr  momept  ^( 
may  be  beyond  the  re 
mercy.  Another  m 
may  be  a  whole  etemi 
late. —  Guthie, 


M^Kt  iot  an  ntiaex  (ttatcl* 


CHILDREN,  what  is 
it  you  can  never 
catch,  even  if  you 
were  to  chase  after 

it,  as  quick  as  possible,  witii 

the   fastest    horse    in    the 

world  ? 
Tou  can  never  catch  the 

word  th^  has  once  gone  out 

of  your  Ifps. 


Once  spoken  it  is 
your  power;  do  ypu 
you  can  never  recall  i 

Therefore  take  car 
you  say,  for  **  in  the 
tude  of  words  there  w 
not  sin ;  but  he  that  r 
eth  his  lips  is  wise  ** 
X.  19).—^  S,  Advocat 


^ttot^fr  fitter  fxm  Cfittral  ^flotfe  % 

UR  friend  Mr.  Ross    an  Indian  waggon,  wit 


again  writes : — *'  I    harnessed  with  Indian 

am  afraid  you  will    I  am  certain,  howevei 

make  me  too  vain  by  m$k^ng    I  could  not  travel  so 

me  Sgure,  in  the  Sabbath  ^  it^  drawn  by  so  fbw  os 

Scbolmr's  Juvenile^  in  front  of  \  by  my  own  Mdisviv^ 

99 


TBM  aABBATH  gOpOL^'s  TSKA9UflT. 


tod  a  team  of  eight,  ten,  or 
twelve  of  these  to  ua  ioTalu- 

PROGRESS  OF  MI89I0N-W0BK. 

Toa  will  rejoice  with  us 
that  on  the  2d  of  Septem- 
ber I  had  the  real  pleasure 
of  receiving  26  adults  into 


earnest  and,  I  heUeve^  sin- 
cere prayers  in  the  earlj 
morning.  The  listeners  were 
all  quiet,  and  mapy  of  them 
"anxious,"  while  hearing 
the  gospel.  After  the  Sab- 
bath-^chooland  twoserrices, 
a  very  considerable  portion 
of  the  congregation  com- 
the  fellowship  of  the  Church,  |  memorated  the  Saviour's 
sod  administering  to  tliem  I  djing    love.      On   Monday 

a  delightful  missionsry 
[Hrajer  meeting  was  held, 
and  humble  contributions 
were  cheerfully  given.  Here 
are  at  least  18  inquirers 
after  salvation. 


the  holy  wdinanoes  of  bap- 
tism and  the  Lord's  Supper. 
I  have  just  returned  from  a 
profitable  tour  to  Taong 
and  all  the  out-stationa,  and 
bow  delighted  I  am  to  see 
the  improving  state  of  the 
people  of  God,  the  desire  to 
hear  the  word  preached,  and 
to  practise  the  duties  which 
it  commands  I  I  could  say, 
**  I  have  no  greater  joy  than 
to  see  my  children  walk  in 
troth  **  and  **  witness  a  good 
confession  before  many  wit- 
nesses." How  often  we  'have 
been  privileged  to  see  that 


MR,  boss's  MUMBVBS   AT  ALL 
BIS  **  STATIONS.** 

I  have  carefully  scruti- 
nized the  roll  of  believers  at 
present  under  my  charge, 
and  find  them  to  be  690. 
There  are  also  seveir  schools 
with  330  scholars.  The  num- 
ber of  Sabbath  scholars  is  all 
who  meet  to  worship  God. 


wonder  of  grace,  and  work  of    There     are    three     native 


the  Aknigfaty  Spirit  — the 
lion  changed  into  the  lamb, 
the  f  orious  servant  of  Satan 


teachers,  four  schoolmasters, 
with  all  the  elders  and  dea- 
cons doing   our  utmost   in 


into   the  meek  disciple  of  j  communicatirg   knowledge. 


Jesus  I 

VISIT  TO  AB  OUT' STATION. 

The  Sabbath  at  Baralong 


Fifty  four  have  entered  the 
Church  during  the  past  year, 
twelve  marriages  have  taken 
place,    lorty-nine    cbV^Teii 


— 6ih  October— tFM  a  bigb    kaye  been  baptized.     IVieT* 
d^r.    Tben  were  offefed  up  I  are  at  present  ii^bout  lYiVtx^ 

aa 


TRB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBA8UBT. 


one  candidates  fbr  member- 
ship; and,  altogether,  my 
comer  of  the  vineyard  is, 
1  would  say,  in  a  very  pros- 
perous condition.  **But  not 
unto  US,  O  Lord,  not  unto 
us,  but  unto  Thy  name  give 
jjlory  for  Thy  mercy  and  for 
Thy  truth's  sake." 

DttSlRB  FOR  AID. 

It  gratifies  us  to  know 
that  the  Directors  of  our 
noble  Society*  are  about  to 
send  out  two  young  mis- 
sionaiies.  They  will  be 
cordially  welcomed  even  by 
the  heathen,  who  are  now 
desirous  of  instruction. 
Would  that  all  ministers  at 
Iiome  were  uniting  in  heart 
with  missionaries  abroad  in 
the  spread  of  the  gospel,  and 
tlie  day  would  evidently 
then  not  be  far  distant  when 
Christ  will  have  « the 
heathen  for  his  inheritance, 
and  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth  for  a  possession." 

SUCCESS  OF  THE  MISSION  TO 
THE  MATABELB,  ON  THB 
SOUTH  OF  THE  ZAMBEZI. 

Mr.  Robert  Moffat  has  re- 
turned from  his  long  journey 
to  the  Matabele  and  limited 
sojourn  among  them.    As  in 
every  thing  else,  he  has  suc- 

*  Z*oadon  Missionaiy  Society. 
84 


ceeded  admirably  i 
whole  work  there.  I 
katse  (the  chief)  has  g 
to  the  young  missions 
excellent  fountain,  t 
thing  in  that  fruitful  d 
and  as  much  land  ai 
can  use.  Freachini 
been  auspiciously 
with  interpreters,  and 
ous  attention  in  the  pi 
of  their  liege-lord  u 
marked.  At  the  earn 
quest  of  those  who  w 
be  stationed  there,  m 
houses  have  been  bui] 
were  nearly  readj 
inhabiting  before  the 
Mr.  Moffat,  left.  I 
quested  Moselekatse  t 
a  number  of  men  t 
Makololo,  on  the  nort 
of  the  Zambezi,  to  asc 
if  Mr.  Helmore  and 
had  arrived.  Thii 
accomplished  in  four 
ent  visits,  but  not  a 
syllable  could  be  hei 
the  said  party,  except 
long  ago,  and  at  a 
distance.  It  was  th 
ported  that  they  wc 
their  road  •  to  Lin 
Hunters  have  arrived 
from  the  hunting-fiel 
very  distant  fh>m  i 
still  not  a  word  of  the 
VJe  yiwX  *ad  ^tay^«n< 


THB  SAVBATU  80HOLAR*8  TREASURY. 


I 


/ 


that  all  will  be  well,  and 
that  God  will  proaper  His 
■enranU  in  their  most 
arduous  undertaking  and 
the  moat  difficult  of  all  our 
mitaiona. 

SAO  Tiri^os  or  the  mako- 

L0I.0  PAETT. 

Since  the  above,  a  letter 
has   been  receired  by  Dr. 
Tidman   from   Mr.    Moffat, 
dated  Kuruman,  12th  Not- 
ember  1860,  and  sent  a  great 
distance  towards  the  Cape 
by   express,    in    which    he 
says — ^  It  is  only  four  days 
since  I  forwarded  a  letter  to 
you,  which  contained  all  the 
information  that  had  reached 
us  respecting  the  Makololo 
brethren.  It  was  favourable. 
But  alaa  I  alaa !  it  was  only 
to  lift  us  up  that  we  might 
be  plunged  in  the  depths  of 
sorrow.      Alas  !    Helmore, 
the  amiable,  the  unwearied, 
the  apostolic  Helmore,  and 
his    devoted    wife,   are    no 
more    inhabitants    of    this 
lower  world.     This  distress- 
ing   intelligence    has    just 
reached   us   by  one  of  our 
people,  who  had  been  on  an 
elephant- hunt,  as  far  as  the 
Victoria     Falls,     on     the 
Zambezi.     He    there   met 
with  some  people  from  the 
Liajranti,  who,   when  asked 


respecting  the  welfare  of  the 
missionaries,  replied,  in  the 
phraaeology  of  the  country, 
that  they  were  all  dead  with 
the  fever ;  and  commencing 
with  the  first  victim,  said — 
Helmore  died,  then  his 
wife,  next  two  of  their 
children ;  then  the  suckling 
of  Mrs.  rrice,  then  the 
Malatsi  from  this  station 
(Kuruman),  Mr.  Price's 
waggon-driver ;  the  next, 
Tabe  from  Likatlong,  and  a 
servant  of  the  Bakhatti  tribe. 
It  would  appear  that  the 
Makololos  —  and  especially 
their  chief— were  unkind  to 
the  party  who  had  reached 
Linyanti,  because  of  their 
being  soured  that  Dr.  Living- 
stone, and  those  of  their 
tribe  whom  he  took  with  him 
when  he  left  for  this  country, 
had  not  made  their  appear- 
ance. Dr.  Livingstone  has 
since  reached  Linyanti,  on 
the  north  of  the  Zambesi, 
and  was,  as  might  be  expect- 
ed, deeply  affected  by  the 
news  of  the  death  of  so  many 
of  the  mission-party;  and 
regretted  much  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  come  at  an 
earlier  period,  as  he  pos- 
sessed a  very  efficacious  re- 
medy for  the  fever.  TVv^ 
remaining  misslonariea— Mr. 
and   Mrs.   Mackenzie,  ixom 

^5 


N 


THE  8ABB4TH  8CHOLAK  8  TREASURY. 


down  on  a  mossj  bank,  under 
the  shade  of  a  drooping  birch, 
and  began  to  talk.  They 
had  just  been  released  from 
school  for  the  holidays,  and 
at  first  their  great  theme 
was  the  endless  enjoyment 
they  were  to  have  in  travel- 
ling home  and  their  plans 
there  for  spending  the  vaca- 
tion. Then  as  they  talked, 
their  words  ran  on  about  the 
.future — far  beyond  their 
■  school-days  and  vacation 
rambles. 

"  I  intend  to  have  a  splen- 
did Hfe  of  it,  when  I  grow  to 
be  a  man,"  said  the  bolder, 
of  the  two,  whom  we  may 
cali  Henry.  **  I  shall  of 
course  ding  all  my  books 
aside,  and  leave  tiresome 
study  behind.  I  shall  get 
into  my  father*B  business  and 
have  lots  of  money." 

"  And  then—?"  asked  his 
quiet,  thoughtful  companion, 
whom  we  shall  call  Edward, 
looking  at  him  with  his  deep 
gaze. 

**  Oh  I  shall  have  several 
dogs,  and  my  gun,  and  horse, 
of  course;  and  at  all  the 
balls  and  gaieties  going,  I 
shall  be  present  as  much  as 
1  like." 

*'^nd  then— ?" 

"/  aball  h&ve  no  end  of 

rich  clothing,  and  I  shall  be 
38 


admired,  and  thought  a  gay, 
gallant  fellow  everywhere." 

*'  And  then—?  " 

"  Oh,"  replied  Henry 
laughing,  ^'I  shall  grow  to 
be  very  wealthy,  as  I  have 
said  ;  and  as  I  get  up  in  years, 
I  shall  get  my  father*s  busi- 
ness handed  over,  I  suppose. 
1  shall  become  a  man  of  note 
in  the  place— keep  a  fine 
house,  get  married,  and  have 
all  comforts  possible." 

"And  then  —  ?  "  still 
asked  the  other  steadily. 

"  Then  ?  why,  I  shall  get 
into  Parliament  some  day  I 
suppose,  make  a  figure,  in- 
crease in  means,  and  have 
influence,  and  be  talked 
about." 

«*  And  then—?  "  still  was 
asked. 

**  Of  course,"  said  Henry, 
a  little  nettled,  *'  1  shall  g^ow 
old  like  other  people — not 
for  fifty  years  though  or  so ; 
and  in  my  rich  old  age  I 
shall  retire  and  take  my  ease, 
and,"  a  shadow  crossing 
his  brow,"  then — " 

"  And  then—?"  whispered 
Edward.  Henry's  brow  was 
very  dark  no  w^  and  in  his 
anger  he  was  silent.  Edward, 
however,  took  his  hand  kind- 
ly, and  with  a  soft  smile,  and 


( 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


o?er  which  the  silTery  birch 
that  sheltered  them  was 
hanging.  As  they  did  so, 
they  came  on  the  brink,  sud- 
denly, of  a  sharp  precipice, 
and  looking  down,  a  gulf  was 
beneath  them,  deep  and  vast. 
Edward  pointed  with  his 
hand,— 

"What,  Henry,  though 
you  are  happy,  wealthy,  fa 
mous,  as  you  wish,  and  may 
lire  to  a  very  old  age,  if  at  the 
end  it  be  a  step  into  a  void 
like  that?" 

**I  cannot  answer  you,** 
was  the  sulky  reply.  *'  You 
are  always  too  good  for  me, 
and  you  never  lose  the  chance 
of  crossing  me  with  such  talk. 
I  do  not  think  it  talk  for 
boys  " 

**So  some  say,**  was  Ed- 
ward's answer,  with  a  sad 
smile.  **  But  some  of  us  die 
youogy  and  I  cannot  but 
think  of  these  words  we  read 
to  day, — *lt  is  appointed 
unto  all  men  once  to  die,  and 
after  death  the  judgment  I  * 
That    is    the    'and  then  I* 


Have  you  ever  thought  of 
that,  Henry?** 

Henry  confessed  he  had 
not,  at  least  to  any  purpose ; 
looking  in  his  companion*8 
face,  he  added,—*'  What  if  I 
should  ask  you,  as  you  have 
asked  me— and  then—f  ** 

Edward  gazed  away  into 
the  deep  gulf^  with  a  look 
full  of  humility  and  light,  as 
he  replied — "  For  me  to  live 
is  Christ,  and  therif  and  then — 
to  die  is  gain  !  ** 

And  so  he  wiled  Henry  to 
sit  down  on  the  mossy  bank 
again,  that  they  might  talk 
together  yet  further,  and 
that  he  might  tell  how  he 
had  learned  to  make  Christ 
everything  to  him  in  this 
world,  so  that  when  he  came 
to  die,  death  should  not  be  a 
leap  into  a  dark  abyss,  but  a 
bridge  across  into  the  hea- 
venly kingdom.  * 

*  I  have  ventured  in  this  little 
piece  to  expand  a  hint  found  in 
Mrs.  Gordon's  (Miss  Brewster's) 
charming  book,  just  out — "  Sun- 
beams in  the  Castle." 


N  old  New  Zealand  I  religion,  and  had  \Wed  slW^^ 
*   chje^  who  had  been  /  of  consistent  ChiUtVaxi  g^K)^- 
converted ia  middle  /  aess,  was  at  laat  broxigVit.  \.o 
Jjfe  to  the  Chiistiaa  /  hi§  death- bed.     Ho  gaOaet«d 


TBB  SABBATH  'SCHOLAR  8  TKBASUBT. 


his  friends  and  familj  round 
him  —  some  Pagaqs  still, 
some  Christians — and  then 
he  raised  himself  up,  and 
began  to  sing  one  of  the  an- 
cient songs  of  his  country, 
which  he  had  learned  in  his 
youth  before  his  conversion. 
It  told  of  a  maiden  who  had 
a  lover — a  faithful  lover; 
she  had  not  seen  him  for 
years ;  he  had  gone  off  into 
the  distant  seas;  and  now 
she  was  determined  to  seek 
and  to  join  him.  And  so  the 
New  Zealand  chief  sang  of 
her  voyage,  in  words  well 
known  to  them  who  stood 
around  him,  but  with  a 
meaning  far  deeper  than 
they  hi^  before  put  on  the 
words;  for  they  saw  that, 
under  the  figure  of  the  for- 
lorn maiden,  he  meant  his 
own  soul  going  forth  in  its 
last  long  voyage ;  and  under 
the  figure  of  the  lover,  he 
meant  that  blessed  Saviour 
whom  he  hoped  now  to  join 
in  that  unknown  sea.  He 
sang  how  the  maiden,  in  her 
frail  canoe,  went  down  the 


dark  river;  how  she  dashed 
down  the  foaming  rapids; 
how  the  steep  rocks  closed 
in  on  either  side ;  how, 
through  the  black  pass,  the 
river  opened  into  the  wide 
sea;  how,  in  the  wide  tea, 
she  still  was  not  afraid,  for 
she  looked  forward  all  the 
more  to  being  with  him 
whom  she  loved  for  ever. 

So  singing,  and  so  trans- 
figuring, the  old  Pagan  song 
with  the  light  of  the  gotpeC 
the  Christian  chieftain  passed 
away.  It  is  to  that  outer 
darkness,  through  that  dark 
river,  and  into'  that  un- 
krown  sea,  of  which  the 
New  Zealand  chief  spoke  to 
his  newly- converted  friends, 
we  must  also  go.  Education, 
business,  worship,  life  itself, 
will  all  take  their  proper 
colour  and  their  proper  pro- 
portions then,  and  then  only, 
when  we  remember  that  they 
are  all  means  to  one  end — 
namely,  to  be  like  Christ, 
and  to  be  with  Christ. — A. 
P.  Stanley,  D,D,^Jrom  ''Good 
Words." 


i  minUfs  ©aU. 


||g^ET  me  tell  you   a 
■  '^^   winter*s  tale,  which 
Is   perfectly   true, 
and  though  it  re- 
lates to  one  humble  calling, 
bss  its  le§aon  for  all. 
It  WMM  Mbout  thirty  years 
^go  or  more   when   ttase- 
40 


'•  coaches  still  ran,  that  an 
,  excellent  old  clergyman,  who 
!  had  a  keen  obwrvatlon  of 
the  world,  was  travelling  on 
,  the  top  of  the  coaoh  fiom 
;  Norwich  to  London.  It  was 
1  a  colkd  wiikUtT  m^Yiv  %.tA  ^Sea 
1  ooachina'n,  a»  Via  dxQ^«  \&% 


THE  SABBATH  80H('LAE*S  TRBA8I7BT. 


honet  over  Newmarket 
Heath,  poured  forth  such  a 
Tolley  of  oaths  and  foul 
Uognage  as  to  shock  all  the 
patseoff era.  The  old  clergy- 
man,  who  was  sitting  dose 
to  him,  said  notbiogy  bat 
fixed  his  piercing  blue  eyes 
upon  him  with  a  look  of 
extreme  wonder  and  aston 
ishroent.  At  last  the  coach- 
man beeame  uneasy;  and 
taming  round  to  him,  said, 
—**  What  makes  you  look  at 
me,  sir^  in  that  way  ?**  The 
clergyman  paid,  still  with  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  him,  **  I  can 
not  imagine  what  you  will 
do  In  Iwaven?  There  are 
BO  horses  or  coaches  or  sad- 
dies  or  bridles  or  public- 
houses  in  hearen.  There 
will  be  no  one  to  swear  at  or 
to  whom  you  chu  use  bad 
langUHge.  1  cannot  think 
what  you  will  do  when  you 
get  to  heaven  "  The  coach- 
mun  said  nothing.  The 
clenryman  said  nothing 
more;  and  they  parted  at 
tbe  end  of  their  journey. 
Some  years  afterwards,  the 
clergyman  was  detained  at 
an  inn  on  the  same  road, 
and  was  told  that  a  dying 
man  wished  to  see  him.  He 
was  taken  up  into  a  bed- 
room in  a  loft,  hung  round 
with  saddles,  bridles,  bits, 
and  whi|)S,  and  on  the  bed 
amongst  them  lay  the  sick 
man.  ^  Sir,"  said  the  man, 
"do  yon  remember  speaking 
to  the  coachman  who  sworn 
io  much,  MS  be  drove  over  I 


Newmarket  Heath?"  '♦Yes," 
replied  the  clergyman.  *'I 
am  that  coachman,"  said  he ; 
**  and  I  oonM  not  die  happy 
without  telling  you  how  I 
have  remembered  your  words 
— I  cannot  think  what  you  will 
do  in  heaven.  Often  and 
often  as  I  have  driven  over 
the  heath,  I  have  heard  these 
words  ringing  in  my  ears, 
and  I  have  flo^tged  the  horses 
to  make  them  get  over  that 
ground  faster,  but  always 
the  words  have  come  back  to 
nw— I  cannot  think  what  you 
will  do  in  heaven**  We  can 
all  suppose  what  the  good 
minister  said  to  the  dying 
man—but  the  words  apply 
to  every  human  being  whose 
chief  interest  lies  in  other 
things  than  doing  good  and 
being  good  —  and  who  de- 
lights in  doing  and  saying 
what  is  evlL  **  There  is  no 
making  money  in  heaven — 
there  is  no  pomotioa-*there 
is  no  gossip  —  there  ia  no 
idleness— there  is  no  contro- 
versy— there  is  no  detraction 
in  heaven  —  /  cannot  ihink 
what  you  loill  do  when  you  go 
to  heaven,'* 

Let  these  words  ring  in 
our  ears  as  we  read  the§e 
passages,  remembering  as  we 
read  that  they  all  tell  us  how 
nothing  except  sin  keeps  us 
out  of  heaven,  and  nothing 
except  goodness  gets  into 
heaven.  Matt.  v.  1-10 ;  xxv. 
31-46.  Rev.  xxiu  14,  \5»— 
A.R  Stanley,  D,D.,  in " Good 
Words." 


A\ 


TAB  tuarnia  •caoioss  SKMAnnT. 


©If  lanntain;  ftefecr  frj. 


^mW  have  read  bow,  in 
^W^  the  burniog  dwert, 
^^^  the  iktletoui  of  nil' 
iitsr«s  hnppy  travellers,  all 
withered  and  white,  are  found 
not  only  on  the  way  to  tiie 
fountain,  but  lying  grim  and 
ghastly  on  ils  banks,  with 
their  skulis  stretched  over 
ill  very  margin.  Panting, 
faint,  their  tongue  cleiiTing 
to  the  roof  of  their  inouth— 
ready  to  fill  a  cup  with  gold 
for  its  fill  of  water— Ihey 
press  on  to  the  well,  iteering 
theircourse  bv  the  tall  palms 
that  stand  full  of  hope  above 
tha  glaring  sanda.  Already.  ' 
in  fond  anticipation,  they  | 
drinit  where  others  had  beeu  I 
saved.  They  reach  it ;  alaa!  j 
tad  tight  for  the  dim  eyei  of  I 
fainting  men,  the  well  ia  dry.  | 
With  itony  horror  in  their  i 
looka,  bow  Ihey  gaze  Into  the 
empty  batiti,  or  fight  with 
men  and  beast  for  tome  I 
muddy  drop*  tliat  but  exas- 
perate their  thirtt.  The 
desert  i«els  around  them. 
Hope  expires.  Some  curs- 
ing,  1008  praying,  they 
Biok,  and  themselves  expire. 
And    by  and   bj,   the  sky 


darkens ;  lightnings 
loud  thnndera  roll  t 
pours  down ;  and, 
the  showers,  (be  tres 

mockery     with     lot 
tresses,   and   kias   tl 
linB  of  death. 
Bjt    yonder,    whe 


up  high 
the  founialn  of  k  ti. 
blood,  and  heaven's 
fyiug  grace,  no  dec 
lie.  Once  a  GolgotI 
ysry  hat  ceased  to  in 
of  skulls.  Where  m 
once  to  die,  they  go 
live  ;  and  to  none  tl 
went  tliere  to  seek 
and  peace,  and  holin 
God  ever  say.  Seek  ) 


rsOTBBR,"   aaid  '      Hit   mother    thoi 

''    Johonie,    "give  <  moment    and    then 

me  a  good  verae  ',  "  T^ou  0<A  k«X  ia 

for  little  boys."    \      1  (ttppiMft Vi^.*»V 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBA8UBT. 


do  naughty  things, 
g  their  mothers  don*t 
tin,  and  won't  know 
is  teaches  them  that 
I  somebody  who  sure- 
seQ  them. 

M  God  look  into  boys* 
I  ?  "  asked  Johnnie. 
),*'  said  mamma, 
ish  Grod  would  speak 
as  see,**  said  Johnnie, 
does,"  said  mamma, 
nie  opened  his  eyes 
'<  Does  r  he  cried, 
^yes,"  said  mamma; 
>eak8  in  a  still  small 

STer  heard  him/'  said 

leboy. 

It's  because  you  dou't 

),"     said     mamma ; 

Toice  speaks  in  your 
Bd  »o  softly,  that  yuu 
darken  to  hear  it." 
lat    does    it    say?" 
Fohnnie. 
len  you  are  naughty, 

'  Don't,  don't,  John- 
ay  don't :'  when  you 
^hty  it  says,  *It  is 
to  be  God's  child; 
children  love   to  do 

ant  it  to  say  that  to 
aid  Johnnie;  and  I 
3  his  mother  wanted 
f  that  to  him. 
everal  days  Johnnie 
1  as  if  he  was  heark- 
9  the  little  voice,  and 
whispered  little  words 
He  tried  to  do 
ind  seemed  a  very 
OiHd. 

t^jr  when  be  took  bia 
out  of  bia  pocket, 


his  mother  obserred  a  very 
handsome  blue  glass  one. 
**  Where  did  you  get  that, 
Johnnie  ?  "  she  said ;  ^  it  is 
a  beauty." 

He  tried  to  snatch  it  out 
of  her  hand.  His  mother 
wa:!  surprised.  She  looked 
at  him,  and  he  hung  down 
his  head.  Then  she  began 
to  be  aflraid  there  was  some- 
thing wrong ;  before,  she  did 
not;  and  she  asked  again, 
**  Where  did  you  get  this 
marble,  Johnnie  ?  " 

The  little  boy  made  no 
answer.  She  did  not  ask 
him  again,  but  went  away. 

At  night  Johnnie  clinii>eil 
into  his  mother's  lap,  Hitd 
laying  his  head  on  her 
shoulder,  said,  in  a  low 
sorry  tone,  **I  took  that 
glass  marble,  mamma." 

"Took  it  from  whom?" 
asked  his  mother. 

"I  took  it  from  the 
ground,"  said  Johnnie. 

"Did  it  belong  to  the 
ground?"  asked hii*  motlier. 

"  Did  the  ground  go  to  a 
shop  and  buy  it  ?  *' 

Johnnie  tried  to  laugh  at 
such  a  funny  thought,  bui 
he  could  not. 

**  I  saw  it  on  the  ground," 
said  he. 

"What  little  boy  had  it 
before  ?  "  asked  his  motlier. 

"Bobert  May's  it  is,  I 
suppose,"  whispered  John- 
nie; "but  1  saw  it  on  the 
ground." 

'•  When  you  put  yourYianCL 

out  to  take  it,  did  you  Yot- 

get,  *  Thou  God  seest  me? '  ~ 

4^ 


»» 


TRB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  0  TBBABUKT. 


asked  his  mother.  "  Did 
you  not  hear  a  voice  sayinf?, 
'  Don't,  Johnnie !  don't, 
Johnnie  ? ' "  asked  his  mo- 
ther. 
<*  I  didn't  hear/'  said  the 


little  hoy,  sobbing,  ** . 
bed  quick  !  " 

Ah,  boys,  boys!  gi 
science  at  least  a  ma 
speak  to  you  in  such 
— Family  Treasury, 


^ttl  anif  i'lih. 


^.RY  this,  my  dear 
children,  and  you 
will  no  more  be 
sorry  for  it  than  you 
would  be  sorry  if  you  nad 
been  brought  to  life  again 
after  being  dead — yea,  there 
will  be  as  much  joy  as  if  you 
had  been  on  the  grave's 
brink,  and  breathed  again 
as  strong  and  well  as  you 
ever  did.  Some  few  years 
a^ro  I  was  spending  the  sum- 
mer months  at  a  beautiful 
watering-place,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Clyde ;  the  daughter 
of  a  Crimean  officer  of  much 
military  fame  was  residing 
not  far  distant.  The  glad 
news  reached  her  of  her 
chivalrous  and  renowned 
parent's  returning  to  Eng- 
land. She  at  once  prepared 
to  meet  him,  and  give  him  a 
hearty  welcome  to  his  native 
land — but,  ere  setting  out, 
she  resolved  to  bathe ;  and, 
excited,  perhaps,  by  her  fa- 
tiier*s  laurels,  and  at  the  near 
prospect  of  seeing  him  home, 
«he  was  incautious,  she  went 
bfjrond  her  depth,  and  she 
sunk  beneath  the  waves.  A 
shout  18  raised,  a  boat  hur- 
44 


\ 


ries  to  the  rescue;  fa 
parently  lifeless  bo 
speedily  brought  asho 
means  are  taken  to  ] 
her.  A  crowd  colle< 
are  anxious,  and  the  i 
is  ever  going — *•  Any  i 
life?"  *' Any  sign  of 
Yet,  **  none !  none !  "  i 
doleful  and  continn; 
spouse.  Atlensfth — w 
ful  to  tell  it !— she  bi 
— she  sighs  heavily 
then  the  cry  rings  louc 
louder,  **8he  breathe 
breathes !"  I  almost  tl 
the  people  frantic ;  tl 
the  ecstacy,  at  this  1 
awakening,  this  bod 
vival. 

But  what  of  all  su 
on  earth  to  that  wh! 
sounded  in  the  con 
heaven,  when  the  ^ 
Saul  was  changed  in 
praying  Paul !  He 
know,  was  dead,  U 
everything  good,  dro^ 
sin,  perishing  in  the 
of  eternal  ruin ;  but 
marvellously  change< 
ihe  fLt«t  echo  of  his  sp 

out   eaT%  \a  XVft  ^« 


TUB  SABBATH  tOBOLAm  8  TRBAIUKT. 


^Imightj  himself^ 
1  he  prayeth !  "  He 
at  an  immortal 
I  flighs  as  a  regene- 
ing ;  he  lives  for  an 
rorld ;  he  lias  obtaio- 
isting  life  tbroagh 
Christ  our  Lonl. 
heating,  my  dear 
was  tl^re  amon^tst 
itiides  assembled  by 
ihore  regarding  her 
been  snatched  from 
of  death  I  But,  oh, 
(hMe  rejoicing  amid 
«ned  hosts  of  heaven 
and  of  the  ezelama- 
ehold  he  prayeth/' 


concerning  tbe  apostle  Paul ! 
Yea,  and  concerning  every 
one  of  you  who  prays  to  God 
in  fincerity  now  for  eternal 
life  through  the  Son.  Oh, 
that  it  were  so  with  all  of 
you  hearing  me  at  this  mo- 
ment! Oh,  that  you  were, 
each  and  all,  this  day, 
wrestling  like  Jacob,  run- 
ning like  Zsccbeus,  crying 
like  Rartimeus,  begging  like 
Luther,  breathing  like  the 
lady,  praying  like  PauL* 


*  From  an  admirable  sermon  to 
children,  by  the  Rev.  Robert  Lelioh 
of  Abemyto. 


Mork  Kni  $lag. 


many  another,  she 
sometimes  had  fooi- 
i;hts.  This  was  one 
: — "  If  I  only  could 
whole  day  to  do 
in,— no  work  and  no 


ISSIE  was   a  very  ]  they  all  envied  her  for  hsv- 
little  girl;  and,  like    ing  no  lessons.     When  they 

were  gone,  she  went  to  the 
cherry-tree  and  ate  as  much 
fruit    as    she    wanted,   and 
picked  a  lapful  for  pics;  but 
when  she  carried  them  in, 
her   mother  said,  "That  is 
enly  play,  play,  all    work^  Mary  !     Don't  you  re- 
should  be  perfectly  '  member  you  cried  yesterday 
When  she  told  this    because  1  wished  you  to  pick 
*  mother  said,  *^  To-  I  cherries   for   the  pudding  ? 
be  yours.  You  may  I  You  may  throw  these  to  the 
luch  as  you  please  ;  ,  pies :   I   can't  take   them." 
II  not  give  you  any  ,  The  baby  began  to  awake, 
matter  how  much  |  and    Mary  ran  forward  to 
want  it."  rock  the  cradle ;    but   her 

laughed  at  the  idea  !  mother  stopped  her  again, 
jr  for  work,  and  ran  j  "No     work     to-day,     yow 
%y.  She  tras  strJn/^'    know !"  and   the   little  gVtV 
f/e  gate  when  the  I  went  away,   rather    out    ot 
^Med  to  school,  and  I  humour.      She  got  her   doW 

4& 


A 


>> 


THB  SABBATH  SCH0LAR*8  TBBA8URT. 


and  played  with  it  a  while, 
but  was  soon  tired.  She 
tried  all  her  other  toys,  but 
they  didn't  seem  to  please 
lier  any  better.  i*^he  came 
back  and  watched  her 
mother,  who  was  shelling 
pease  and  rocking  the  cradle 
with  her  foot. 

"Mayn't    I    help     you, 
mother  ?  "  she  asked. 

**No,  Mary:  this  isn't  ;>/ay." 

Mary  felt  very  much  like 
crying.  She  went  out  into 
the  garden  a^ain  and  leaned  | 
over  the  fence,  watching  the 
ducks  and  geese  in  the  pond. 
Soon  she  heard  the  clatter 
of  plates:  her  mother  was 
setting  the  table  for  dinner. 
Mary  longed  to  help.  Then 
her  father  came  back  from 
his  work,  and  they  all  sat 
down  to  dinu.r.  Bessie  was 
quite  cheerful  during  the 
meal ;  but,  when  it  was  over 
and  her  father  away,  she  sat 
down  on  the  low  seat  by  the 
cradle,  and  said,  wearily, 
''Mother,  you  don't  know 
how  tired  I  am  of  doing 
nothing  I  If  you  would  only 
let  me  wind  your  cotton,  or 
put  your  work-box  in  order. 
or  even  sew  at  that  tiresome 
patchwork,  I  would  be  so 
gladl" 

"I  can*t,  little  daughter, 
because  I  said  I  would  not 
giv^e  you  work  to-day.  But 
you  may  find  some  for  your- 
self if  you  can. 


»» 


So  Mary  hunted 
of  her  father's  old 
and  began  to  mei 
for  she  could  d 
neatly.  Her  fa 
brighter;  and  prei 
said, "  Mother,  why 
get  tired  of  play  ?' 

"  Because  God 
mean  us  to  be  idle, 
mand  is,  *  Six  days  i 
labour.'  He  has  g. 
us  work  to  do,  and 
us  so,  that  unless  ^ 
the  very  work  tfaa 
us,  we  can't  be  ha] 

**  What  is  yo 
mother  ?  *'  asked  N 

**  To  serve  Go* 
daily  life  as  a  wif< 
and  Christian." 

Mary  did  not  qu 
stand   this ;    but 
**  Don't  you  ever  g< 

**Ye8,  often;  b 
go  to  my  heaven 
and  tell  Him  so ;  i 
thinks  1  have  mc 
can  bear,  He  eithc 
away  or  gives  m< 
to  do  it." 

"  And  may  I  do 
mother  ?  " 

"  You  may,  my  i 
you  will  be  God's 
may  ask  His  helf 
work  you  have  to  c 
life,  and  He  will 
everything  you  ne 

So,  on  Mary* 
idleness^  she  learnt 
son  which  she  nev< 


46 


TBB  SiLBBATH  BOHOLAR  8  TRBASURT. 


fflUl  it  ®afee  t\t  Park  mC! 


OUSG  lady  who 
lored  little  children 
Dnce  had  the  care  of 
some  seventy  busy 
^ues,  seventy  pairs 
hands  that  were 
d  of  getting  into 
and  seventy  pairs 
f  feet  that  would 
loise  on  the  floor. 
>f  our  little  readers 
neh  hands  and  feet? 
y  the  teacher  told 
old  their  hancis  and 
r  feet  very  siill  and 
Id  talk  to  them, 
ise  little  children 
eir  teacher  very 
d  the  one  who  had 
best  scholar  during 
was  permitted  to 
the  teacher  while 
alking. 

time  little  Mary 
me  and  leaned  her 
er  teacher's  lap  and 
ery  happy.  Now 
ry  was  a  coloured 
:  face  was  quite 
¥hen  all  was  still 
er  said : 

)  one  read  to-day, 
ne  is  that  handsome 
ill  that  know  what 
as  raise  their  hand." 
)  raised  a  hand,  but 
any  black  eyes,  and 
I  too,  looked  very 


drive  all  the  bad,  wicked 
thoughts  out  of  your  hearts, 
and  never  say  any  naughty 
words,  and  love  the  Saviour, 
and  try  to  have  your  little 
playmates  love  Him  too,  then 
you  will  be  handsome,  good- 
ness will  shine  out  on  your 
faces,  and  make  everybody 
love  you." 

Little  Mary  looked  into 
her  teacher's  face  and  said 
80  earnestly,  **  () !  will  it 
take  the  black  off?  " 

The  tears  came  in  the 
teacher's  eyes,  and  she  told 
Mary  about  heaven  and  the 
Saviour;  that  he  did  not 
look  at  her  face,  he  looked 
at  her  heart ;  and  if  she  tried 
to  be  good  and  love  Him  her 
heart  would  be  white,  and 
when  she  went  to  heaven 
her  dear  Saviour  would  give 
her  a  white  face. 

Little  Mary  was  comfort- 
ed, and  said  she  hoped  it 
would  not  be  very  long  be- 
fore the  Saviour  would  come 
for  her. 

Dear  children,  remember 
that  bad  words  and  wicked 
!  thoughts,  disobedience  and 
'  unkindness  will  make  your 
!  hearts  black;  and  a  black 
'  heart  is  far  worse  than  a 
I  black  face  ;  but  kindness  . 
I  and  love  will  keep  yovit 
hearts  white.    Be  sure  axL^ 


vos  that  if  yon  al-  \  always  have  white  liearlal — 
to  be  good,  and  i  S.  S.  Advocate. 

41 


THB  8ABBA.TH  IOHOLAR*S  TBBAlUmT. 


^'  faster  for  |estts  to  Carts  me/' 

LITTLE  boy  asked  i  lambs  in  His  anna.  Af 
Ills  father  one  day  only  a  little  boy,  it « 
if  he  might  be  !  easier  for  Jesus  to  can^ 
baptized  ?  Simple,  loving  child 

''You  are  too  young,  my  was  baptized;  and  Jeti 
child,"  said  the  man.  "  If  carry  him  in  His  inn 
you  profess  religion  while  ;  keep  him  falthftiU  H 
you  are  such  a  little  boy  you  j  and  will  keep  all  the 
may  fall  back."  ,  children  in  the  world  ft 

The  child  guzed  in  his  j  unto  death,  if  th^  aal 
father*s  face  with  eyes  full  of  j  trust  Him.  Jesui  I 
light  and  feeling  us  he  re-  |  mighty  God  as  mSX  I 
plied,  **  But,  father,  Jesus  !  loving  Saviour.  — *  & 
has  promised  to  carry  ihe  >  School  Advocate, 


J^ang  of  mx  $%ciimtge. 

[E  are  pilgrims,  we  are  strangers. 
Let  us  hasten  to  be  gone ; 
Here  are  countless  snares  and  dangSB^ 
If  we  linger  we're  undone  : 

Hasten  onward, 
Till  the  glorious  goal  be  won. 

Onward  I  our  bright  home's  before  us, 

Gleaming  on  us  like  a  star ; 
Saints  and  angels  stooping  o*er  us, 

Light  us  onward  from  afar: 
'^  Come  and  welcome. 

Where  the  saints  and  angels  are !  ** 

Cast  aside  each  weight  that  lets  us, 

And  all  tempting  thoughts  within. 
And  the  sin  that  most  besets  us, 
And  each  joy  that  leads  to  sin ; 

Look  to  Jesus  I 
Strive  and  overcome  in  H\m\ 
48 


IBB  MtBOAta  MmOLAl's  TUAIBBT. 


BTORY  U  told,  I  I  gKine.  It  U  ■  itcnr  of  • 
think  exceedlnglf  cbildbetngledb7heTte«:her 
appropriate.  Id  the  to  th«  door  of  a  loft;  and 
tvea  to  tbepupiU  of )  rei7  beaattful  cbatcb.  1% 
tr-sebool,  and  tbe  /  was  approached  b;  »  Uffttt 
'Of  gK»t  atapa,  ftod  ixf  ftn^i 
4« 


THB  SABBATH  8GHOLAR  S  TaBAtOST. 


down  these,  as  the  congrega-  |  the    porch    of   the  < 

It  was  highly  oriian 
and  over  the  top  o 
large  letters  were 
the  words, 

<*  MISSIONARY  BO 

Such  a  box  stood  re 

in  the  girls'  class  wh 

and  her  little  mates  a 

each  Sunday,  but  i( 

poor  plain  wooden  aff 

therefore  when  her  g 

on  this  large  contriva 

der  the  name  of  Mil 

Box  on  the  church's  i 

drew  nigh  to  it  timidlj 

ing  what  a  vast  deal  o! 

it  would  contain,  an 

heaps  of  gold  and  siW 

be  cast  into  it  by  a 

worshipers    and     i 

passing  in  and   oa 

strange  to  say,  she  fa 

rattle  as  of  fiUlingcd] 

the  boX'Sueh  as  str 

ear  each  evenifig,  w 

pupils  of  her  little  cli 

together    dropping 

first  thing  they  did  wi 

halfpenny  mites  or 

these    giving    theii 

chink  as  they  fell. 

out  of  all  the  crowd 

to  notice  the  great 

the   wall    as  they 

and    she,  «hrewd 

larly  on.  that  she  was,  oomiii 

/        It  waa  A  box  fastened  on  \  t\m\^\^  \o  iftftiiVMi.\  \ 

/    the  Bide  oi   the    wall,   a:^  \  veii\.\a^\>^  ^ft^K.* 

/      ^Q  


tion  met  or  dismissed,  large 
streams  of  wealthy,  richly 
clad  people  came  and  went. 
There    was    also    eloquent 
preaching  in  the  pulpit ;  and 
when  the  psalms  in  divine 
service  were  sung,  the  roll  of 
praise  rose  up  grandly,  and 
floated  along  the  high  gorge- 
ous roof.    Besides  all  that, 
the  church   was  the  scene 
of  a    busy    Sunday-school. 
Teachers  and  scholars  crowd- 
ed into  it  each  Sunday  by 
the  score;    and   there  was 
every  token  that  a  more  zea- 
lou9,  living,  earnest  system 
of  things  than  in  that  church 
was     carried    on    nowhere. 
Well,  the  cluld  I  speak  of 
was  bidden  mark  all  these 
imposing  signs ;  perhaps  she 
was  a  girl  whose  own  Sunday 
class  was  held  in  some  re- 
mote side  street,  and  under 
some  low  humble  roof  where 
only    a  handful    assembled 
from  week  to  week  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  —  so  much 
the  greater  contrast  in  the 
splendid    church    and    the 
streaming  throng  of  young 
and  old.  j?u<  one  thing,  after 
a  few  minutes,  she  was  asked 
to  fasten  her  eyes  particu- 


THE  SABBATH  SOHoLAb'B  TRBA8DRT. 


over  the  box's  edge,  then 
npoa  its  op?n  slit — when—it 
was  all  explained.  Across 
that  mouth  that  should  have 
heen  open  to  receive  gifts 
into  Christ's  treasury,  there 
was  a  cobweb  woven  ! 

That  cobweb  spoke  an 
Awfal  account  of  the  hearts 
of  the  many  young  and  old 
going  in  and  out  of  the  splen- 
did temple.  What  a  ser- 
mon in  that  thin  film  across 
the  box*8  slit!    The  young 


scholar  drew  back  in  a  kind 
of  fear ;  and  as  she  went  home 
by  her  teacher*s  side,  this 
was  the  lesson  she  learned 
never  to  forget — "  Take  care 
of  the  heart  in  the  midst  of 
all  you  hear  and  are  being 
taught.  Whether  in  the 
church  or  school,  take  care 
of  the  heart— see  it  be  so 
right  with  Jesus  that  there 
be  no  time  for  a  cobweb  to  be 
spun  over  the  mouth  of  your 
missionary  box." 


©If  Miiitx  paon. 


REMEMBER  one 
day  I  was  bitterly 
complaining  and 
writhing  under  pain 
^n  my  mother  took  me 
on  her  lap,  and  said — "I 
^iU  tell  thee  a  story.  There 
^ttonce  a  slave  called  ^sop. 
Hit  master,  who  was  a  Persian 
king,  was  very  fond  of  him, 
tnd  gave  him  every  day  all 
he  could  wiiih  for,  so  that 
•^op  was  obedient  and 
Wed  his  master,  and  thank- 
^  him  continually.  A 
courtier  to  whom  the  king 
had  praised  ^«op  for  his 
obedience,  answered — *  Well 
nsy  he  love  thee,  O  king ! 
for  thou  loadest  him  with 
all  he  can  desire,  but  try 
him  with  Bomepaioful  tbingf 
Mad  then  thoa  wilt  see  what 
Ait  iore  it  wortik,'     Now, 


in  the  king*s  garden  there 
grew  a  nauseous  and  bitter 
melon,  the  stench  of  which 
was  such  that  few  could  bear 
to  approach  it.  The  king 
told  iBsop  to  go  and  cut  one 
of  the  melons  and  eat  every 
bit  of  it.  jEsop  accordingly 
cut  the  fruit,  the  largest  he 
could  tind,  and  ate  it  every 
bit.  The  wily  courtier  said 
to  JEsop— *How  can  you 
bear  to  sw.iUow  such  a 
nauseous  fruit?'  He  an- 
swered— *■  My  dear  master 
has  done  nothiog  but  load 
me  with  benefits  every  day 
of  my  life,  and  shall  1  not, 
for  his  sake,  eat  one  bitter 
fruit  without  complaint  or 
asking  the  reason  w\\y^' 
My  dear  child,'*  ray  molVveii 
continued,  **  Qod  iB  out  VitA 
King^    who    »iiiro\it\Aa    xx% 

5V 


TBI  tlBBATH  ICB 

OUIt'a  TKBABiniT. 

witli   ererj  lort  of  benefit, 

And  art  thou  not  wl 

>Dd  tiaa  done  bo  ever  since 

submit  patiently  to 

ire  were  born.     Halt  thou. 

thing    He    ha*   giv< 

like    .Xiop,    thaoked    Him 

which  is  really  bitte 

ererj  da;  for  HIi  goodneas  ? 

1  never  forgot  the 

Ja.  A.  Schimmelp 

9;i&f  l^flok  of  ©hanks 

"&lfi    ^EEL     «i 

WmW,    vexed    itnd 

^1    outoftem 

"^^    per      with         & 

Ben,"    cried    Hark          1 

"thnt  I  reallf   miut     j     1 

P^p^^HH 

^^^^!>^^w! 

TCTenge?"     inquired  Rjfl 

liis  cousin  Cecill.       WM 

"No,lookoTeriDy»l 

Book  of  Thanki."         %>■ 

"What's     that;       ^^ 

Mid   Cecilik,   as   she       ^ 

uw      him     turninB          ^ 

orer  the  ieares  of  a 

copy  ■  book,     nearly 

tWi  of  writing,  in  roond  text 

erer  are  shown   me 

hand. 

would   wonder  bo« 

»  Here  It  1»,"  Mid  Mark, 

they  are.    I  find  a  gi 

whoresd  aloud:  "March  8 

of  good  from  markli 

Ben  lent  me  hii    new 

down.  I  do  not  fora 
aalmightdoiflonl 

hat." 

"Here  ag^n;  January  4 

ed  to  my  memory,  ei 

When   I   lost  ray  iliil- 

that  I  am  not  often  t 

ling,  Ben  made  it  up  to  me 

ful,  and  when  I  am 

kindly." 

out  of  temper,  I  aim 

"  Well,"  obaerres  the  boy, 

turning  down  the  leaf,  "  Ben 

only  look  oTpr  my  b 

ii  a  good  boy  after  all." 

"I   wonder  what 

"  What  do  yon  note  down 

tilings  you  put  dow 
Cecilia.      "Let  me 

in  that  booli  ?"  said  Cecilia, 

"All  the  kindneiMB  itwt  t  ipmtd  Om  «\u&b  & 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAR's  TBBASURT. 


boQse,  and  made  me  yery 
hippy  indeed." 

**Mri.  Philips  gave  roe 
fiTB  shillings." 

**  Old  Martha  Page  asked 
after  me  every  day  when  I 
was  ill." 

"  Why  do  you  put  father 
and  mother  at  the  head  of 
the  page  ?  "  asked  Cecilia. 

"Oh,  they  show  me  so 
much  kindness  that  I  can- 
not put  it  all  down,  so  1  just 
write  their  names  to  remind 
myself  <^  the  great  debt  of 
loTe.  I  know  that  I  never 
can  repay  it.  And  see  what 
I  put  at  the  beginning  of  my 


book  t  '  Every  good  gift  is 
from  above  ;*  this  is  to  make 
me  remember  that  all  the 
kind  friends  whom  I  have 
were  given  to  me  by  the 
Lord,  and  that  while  I  am 
grateful  to  them,  I  should 
first  of  all  be  thankful  to 
Him." 

I  think  that  such  of  my 
readers  as  have  ability  and 
time,  would  find  it  a  capital 
plan  to  keep  a  Book  of 
Thanks;  and  may  such  as 
cannot  write  them  down,  yet 
keep  a  book  of  remembrance 
of  past  kindness  in  their 
hearts. — S.  S.  Meiunger, 


%  600ir  i^jjinning. 


LITTLE  bqy  said  to 

his  sister  as  they 

walked  home  from 

sdiool,  **  I  wish  I 

may  live  to  be  old."    Their 

teacher    had    been    telling 

them  of  the   death    of    a 

leboolfellow,    and    this   led 

the  little  boy  to  speak  as  he 

did. 

It  was  a  natural  wish  for 
biffl  to  express,  but  he  did 
not  tiiink  that  this  world  is 
not  the  best  and  brightest 
•pot  in  the  great  kingdom  of 
God.  There  is  a  fairer,  and 
holier,  and  happier  spot  than 
this  earth.  God  has  fitted 
it  for  the  dwelling  of  those 
that  love  and  serve  Him 
Aena  Jt  ia  for  "  those  who 
hMve   wABhed   their    robea. 


and  made  them  white  in  the 
■blood  of  the  Lamb."  It  is 
the  pure  and  blessed  home 
of  the  children  of  God.  It 
is  heaven. 

Still  you  wish  to  live  a 
long  life  in  this  world — live 
to  \.e  quite  old.  Let  us  see 
what  it  is  you  desire. 

Look  at  that  aged  man, 
as  he  totters  along  the  street. 
He  leans  upon  a  staff,  with 
which  he  tries  to  steady  his 
steps.  His  eyes  are  so  dim 
that  he  cannot  see  a  friend 
who  is  passing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road.  Hia  ears 
are  so  deaf  that  he  cannot 
hear  that  bird  now  »\u^\w^ 
on  the  tree.  T\\e  VvaVt  ot 
the  old  man*  a  bead  it  ^\v\Va. 
His    face  is  wrmkled    sitvd. 

5^ 


THB  SABBATH  SCBOLAR'S  TaBAtUBT. 


care-worn.  Go,  take  his 
hand,  and  ask  him  it  he  is 
qoite  well.  He  will  tell  you 
of  pains  in  his  limbs,  and 
that  he  is  not  so  strong  as 
he  used  to  be.  Ask  him 
where  are  tlie  friends  he 
once  knew.  He  will  point 
to  the  grave-yard.  Many 
of  them  are  long  since  dead. 
He  is  almost  alone  and  a 
stranger  in  the  wurld.  But 
if  that  old  man  is  a  Christian, 
he  has  still  got  his  Bible, 
and  the  presence  of  his  Sa- 
viour, and  a  good  hope  of 
heaven.  He  is  a  happy  man, 
though  he  is  poor  and  old. 
He  looks  to  Jesus  lor  the 
pardon  of  all  his  sins,  and 
can  trust  him  with  his  soul. 

The  great  matter  is,  not 
for  us  to  wish  to  live  to  be 
old ;  we  must  leave  that  to 
God,  as  He  shall  see  best; 
but  we  must  seek  to  live 
well,  and  to  some  good  pur- 
pose. We  must  measure  our 
lives,  not  by  days  and  years, 
but  by  the  good  that  is  done 
and  enjoyed.  Whether  we 
live,  we  should  live  unto  the 
Lord ;  or  whether  we  die,  we 
should  die  unto  the  Lord ; 
so  that,  whether  we  live  or 
die,  we  may  be  the  Lord's. 

The  way  to  spend  life 
aright  is  to  begin  with  early 
piety.  Give  yourselves  to 
the  Lord  in  the  days  of 
childhood,  and  all  shall  be 
well.    He  takes  delight  in 


the  cheerful  oflerii 
young  heart.      W 
would  give   him 
dregs  of  old  age? 
your  love  in  all  its  i 
He    wants    the    f 
fruits.      He  asks 
service    before    *•  t 
come    when  you  i 
you   have    no   p*e 
them.'* 

A  learned  and  p 
of  the  name  of  Bez 
of  the  great  refu 
religion  about  thre* 
years  ago.  **I  hi 
long,  and  have  sinr 
said  he;  **yet,  ai 
many  things  for 
must  bless  God,  th< 
chief  is  that  at  tl 
sixteen  he  brough 
His  grace  to  love 
him.  Thus  He  has 
from  many  sins,  ii 
I  should  have  fal 
which  would  have 
life  and  death  less 

Make,  then,  a  go 
ning.  While  you 
young,  seek  to  kn 
Christ,  who  lor  yoi 
painful  death  of  t 
He  calls  you.  wit! 
of  mercy,  to  for 
and  follow  Him. 
**  Come  unto  me; 
and  be  saved.**  '^ 
not  say  with  youn| 
**  Here  am  I ;  spei 
for  Thy  servant  1: 
— The  Cottager. 


51 


THB  BABBATH  80HOLAB*8  TRBA8URT, 


©ne  Igrirfe  jon  %natliix. 


DBERT  was  one  daj 

lookiDg  at  a  large 

building        which 

they  were  putting 

it    opposite   to    his 

hou»e.    He  watched 

rkmen  from  day  to 

they  carried  up  the 

ind  mortar,  and  then 

them  in  their  proper 

father  said  to  him, 
t,  you  seem  to  be 
ich  taken  up  with  the 
freis :  pray  what  may 
9  thinking  about  ? 
you  any  notion  of 
;  the  trade  ?*' 
"  said  Robert  smil- 
mt  I  was  just  think- 
t  a  little  thing  a  brick 
jret  that  great  house 
by  laying  one  brick 
her.- 

py    true,     my    boy 
uxget  it.    Just  su  is 


it  in  all  great  works.  All 
your  learning  is  one  little 
lesson  added  to  another.  If 
a  man  could  walk  all  round 
the  world,  it  would  be  by 
putting  one  foot  before 
the  other.  Your  whole  life 
will  be  made  up  of  one  little 
moment  after  another. 
Drop  added  to  drop  makes 
the  ocean. 

^  Learn  from  this  not  to 
despise  little  thin  a.  s.  Learn 
also  not  to  be  discouraged 
by  great  labours.  The 
^reate^t  labour  becomes 
easy,  if  divided  into  parts. 
You  could  not  jump  over  a 
mountain,  but  step  by  step 
takes  you  to  the  other  side. 
Do  not  fear,  therefore,  to 
attempt  great  things.  Re- 
member, the  whole  of  that 
great  building  is  only  one 
brick  upon  another." — 2^e 
Cottager, 


IKfeat  »  f  ittU  1802  ran  ho. 


WISH,  I  wish, 
I  wish,**  said  a 
^  little  boy,  who 
^  awoke  early  one 
;,  and  lay  in  bed 
g,  *']  wish  I  was 
jp,  so  as  to  do  some 
If  Twas  governor,  Td 
ood  Jaw":^;  or  I'd  be  a 
Mjr;  or  I'd  get  rich, 
'  away  ao  macb  to  j 


:  poor  people ;  but  I  am  only 
a  little  boy,  and  it  will  take 
me  plenty  of  years  to  grow 
up."    Was  he  going  to  put 
off  doing   good    till   then? 
*'  Well,**  he  said  to  himself 
while  he  was    dressing,  *M 
know  what  1  CA'N  do,     1     \ 
can  be  good  ;  that* «  \eiX  to     \ 
iittieboys"  ThereloTO  "wYvew     \ 
he  wai  dretaed,  he  toeVt  wiA     \ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR*B  TBBASURT. 


asked  God  to  help  him  to  be 
good,  and  try  to  serye  Him 
all  day  with  all  his  heart, 
and  not  forobt.  Then  he 
went  down  stairs  to  finish 
his  lessons. 

No  sooner  was  he  seated 
with  his  clean  slate  before 
him,  than  his  mother  called 
him  to  run  into  the  wood- 
house  for  his  little  brother. 
He  did  not  want  to  leave  his 
lesson,  yet  he  cheerfully  said, 
**  r\\  go,  mother;'*  and  away 
he  ran.  And  how  do  you 
think  he  found  '*  bubby." 
With  a  sharp  axe  in  his 
hand.  *'I  chop,"  he  said; 
and  qaite  likely  the  next  mo- 
ment he  would  have  chopped 
off  his  little  toes.  The  little 
boy  only  thought  of  minding 
his  mother;  but  who  can  tell 
if  his  ready  obedience  did 
not  save  his  baby  brother 
from  being  a  cripple  for  life? 

As  he  was  going  on  an 
errand  for  his  mother,  he 
saw  a  poor  woman  whose 
foot  had  slipped  on  the  new- 
ly made  ice,  and  she  fell; 
and  in  falling  she  had  spilled 
her  bag  of  beans  and  basket 
of  apples,  and  some  wicked 
boys  were  snatching  up  her 
apples  and  running  off  with 
them.  The  little  boy  stop- 
ped and  said,  *'  Let  me  help 
yeu  to  pick  up  your  beans 
and  apples ; "  and  his  nimble 
fingers  quickly  helped  her 
out  of  her  mishap.  He  only 
thought  of  being  kind ;  he 
/  did  not  know  how  his  kind 
/  Ac^comfbrted  the  poor  womati 
/  long  after  she  got  home,  aad 
[ 56 


how  she  prayed  Go 
him. 

At  dinner,  as  1: 
and  mother  were  ta 
father  said  roughly, 
do  anything  for  t\ 
son ;  the  old  mai 
did  his  best  to  in; 
*<  But  father,"  said 
boy,  looking  up 
father's  face,  '*do< 
Bible  say  we  mm 
good  for  evil?'*  1 
boy  did  not  know 
father  thought  of 
son  had  said  all  t 
noon,  and  said  wi( 
self,  •*  My  boy  is  n 
Christian  than  I  an 
be  a  better  man." 

When  he  came  h 
school  at  night,  h< 
the  cage  and  found 
canary  bird  dead 
mother  I  and  I  tenc 
so,  and  I  loved  hie 
he  sang  so  sweetly ; 
little  boy  burst  ii 
over  his  poor  1 
"  Who  gave  birdie* 
who  took  it  again  ?*' 
mother,  stroking  I 
"  God,"  he  answere< 
his  tears,  "and  h 
best  ;**  and  he  triec 
himself 

A  lady  sat  in  a  < 
ner  in  the  room, 
lost  her  two  bird 
though  she  hoped 
taken  angels*  wi 
gone  to  nestle  in  th 
ly  land,  she  wou 
have  her  little  soni 


THB  SABBATH  S0HOLAR*B  TRBA8UBT. 


ence  and  submission  to 
Father  in  heaven,  she 
,  ^*  I  too  will  tmst  Him, 

this  little  child."  Her 
rt  was  touched,  and  she 
It  home  with  a  little 
ing  of  healing  gushing  up 
re,  and  she  became  hence- 
h  a  better  mother  to  the 
Idren  yet  left  to  her. 
Vhen  the  little  boy  lay  on 

pillow  that  night,  he 
ught,  **  I  am  too  small  to 
any  good;  but  oh,  I  do 
Qt  to  be  good,  and  to  love 


the  Saviour  who  came  down 
from  heaven  to  die  for  me* 
I  do  want  to  become  one  of 
the  heavenly  Father^s  dear 
children." 

The  heavenly  Father's 
children  are  sometimes 
called  children  of  light ;  and 
does  it  not  seem  as  if  beams 
of  light  shone  from  this  little 
child,  warming,  blessing 
everybody  that  came  in  his 
way  ?  Who  will  say  he  did 
not  do  good.— 5.  S.  Mes- 
senger, 


^^®6geiUki0nt^^ 


i^UCY,"  said  a  friend 
one  day  to  a 
little  girl  laid 
on  a  sick-bed, 
oold  you  not  like  to  be 
i,  and  again  at  play  ?" 


Lucy  thought  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  said  with 
great  sweetness,  <*  God 
knows  best ;  and  what  He 
thinks  best,  pleases  me 
best."—  Children's  Paper, 


Moxh  f  iirtuw  (torn  i\i  <Blh  fetam^nt. 


8|RT  is  night.  A  man 
^  is  lying  upon  the 
^  ground,  a  stone  is 
"^  his  pillow;  he 
ims;  he  sees  a  ladder 
se  top  reaches  to  heaven ; 
angels  of  God  are  ascen- 
*  and  descending  upon 
A  hnght  form  stands 
w  top;  and,  amid  the  I 
less    and   stillneaa  of 


night,  a  voice  is  heard  speak- 
ing words  of  encouragement 
and     promise.    The     man 
awakes ;  he  is   awed   by  a 
sacred  influence,  and  he  ex- 
claims,   **  Surely  God  is  in 
this  place  I"    He  takes  the 
stone  which  he  ha^  ioi  \i\% 
pi JJow,  pours  oil  upon  it,  M\d 
consecrates  himself  and  «iV 
belonging  him  to  God. 

51 


TBB  SABBiTH  SCHOLAB*S  TBBASDKT* 


f aft0nnrs  at  ^falfeatt 


!K,**8ay8  Mr.  Tay- 
lor, one  of  our 
young  miBsion- 
aries  lately  gone  to  that 
famous  station  in  the  north- 
west of  India — 

'*  We  have  been  visiting  all 
the  villages  within  five  or 
pix  miles  from  cantonments 
for  the  last  month  or  six 
weeks,  always  four,  and 
Fometimes  five,  days  in  the 
week.  1  am  only  sorry  that 
the  want  of  a  tent  and  other 


materials  for  i 
prevents  us  fro 
much  more  in  tl 
preaching  than  w 
doing.  We  canno 
we  have  met  ' 
manifest  tokens  c 
Frequently,  how 
have  had  quiet  anc 
audiences,  Hnd  soi 
to  enter  into  the  s] 
remarks,  and  evir 
interest,  by  propos 
appropriate  quest 
the  subject.* 


it 


jem0n8l  (^\mt\  at  ^talk 


SEND  you  by  this 
mail,"  Mr.  Tay- 
lor adds,  refer- 
ring to  the  church  to  be 
erected  at  Sealkote  to  the 
memory  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hunter,  slain  there  in  the 
great  mutiny  of  1857 — 

^  I  send  you  by  this  mail 
the  plan  of  the  Memorial 
Church,  as  drawn  by  the 
executive  engineer  of  Seal- 
kote. There  has  been  every 
care  paid  to  combine  neat- 
ness and  simplicity  with  as 
little  outlay  as  possible. 
The  fpecificationa  have  not 


yet  been  drawn 
the  cost  will  fall  i 
8000.  Liberal  cent 
1  hope,  will  be  ol 
Sealkote,  and  pi 
grant  of  Rs  100( 
received  from  Go 
This  will  leave  a 
which  your  Comm 
ultimately  see  fit 
in  the  erection  of 
premiset." 

From  how  mao} 
ary  boxes    in  oui 
schools  have  ofiTer 
forth     to     this 
Church  ? 


58 


THR  8ABBATR  fOHOLAR  8  TRIA8DRT. 


45ifts  Jffnt  tff  pragma. 


fHERE  is  Smyrna? 
Look  in  the  map, 
and  get  some 
elder  person  to  show  you 
tnd  expbin  to  you,  and  you 
will  find  that  in  a  famous 
old  city,  where  a  vast  num- 
ber of  different  races  now 
meet^from  all  the  lands,  I 
>U{po8e,  under  heaven— we 
h&Te  aa  interesting  mission- 
>7  post,  from  which  Mrs. 
Coull,  wife  of  one  of  the 
DiiMiunaries,  writes  home 
the  fdlowing  letter  I  ask 
you  to  read:— 

"Tiie  boK  which  vou  sent . 
°)e  *  for  the  Bazaar  m  Smyr- 
^  arrived  about  six  weeks 
*K0.  The  sale,  whidi  I< 
i^mioned  to  you  that  was' 
^  be  for  the  poor  of  t4iat 
place,  came  off  in  the  month 
of  December,  so  that  our  box 
*tt  not  in  time.  However, 
J'ehave  done  very  well,  hav- 
ing got  L.20,  les.  One  of 
the  ladies  here  gave  us  her 
drawing-room,  and  we  had  a 
very  nice  sale.  I  received 
lereral  donations  ft*om  the 
English  ladies,  but  with  tlie 
Kqnest  that  it  would  be  dis- 
tributed among  the  poor 
Jeirs  to  give  them  some  of 

•  Meaaing    the  iMdiea  ben  im 
SfioOMod  who  bare  »  Bodety  tor 
tending  ibe  word  ofOod  to  Jewish 
ieauUea. 


the  necessaries  of  life  during 
the  winter  season;  I  have 
divided  among  them  L.7  in 
bed-covers  and  chHrcoal. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  mis- 
ery among  the  Jews;  they 
are  so  improvident.  I  find 
them  a  most  interevting  set 
of  people.  We  were  much 
struck  with  the  gratitude 
they  showed  us  for  any  little 
thing  they  got  Irom  us;  and 
in  many  cases  they  took  us 
away  from  their  own  houses, 
when  they  seemed  very  poor, 
and^mted  out  houses  where 
there  were  sick,  and  asked 
us  to  give  them  what  we 
•could.  We  have  never  found 
oneca^e  like  this  among  the 
Greeks.  I  have  often  found 
that,  when  I  had  given  any 
charity  to  a  Greek,  that 
a  great  many  came  to  tell 
floe  that  i  had  done  wrong, 
as  it  had  been  bestowed  on 
an  unworthy  object,  although 
ihey  could  reap  i.o  benefit 
from  me  themselves.  I  be- 
long to  a  society  here  where 
all  the  English  ladies  meet 
together  once  a  week,  and 
make  clothes  for  the  poor. 
Each  lady  has  a  part  of  the 
town  to  visit.  My  district 
is  the  Jewish  part  of  the 
town.  I  am  quite  glad  to 
see  the  interest  the  ladies  are 
beginning  to  take  \n  tVve  3  e>i^  %« 
**  The  things  «eni  ou\.  n«  qt« 
rery  nice  ;  and  I  doY\o^\\\^ 
good  people  of  ScotVatxA  vjVX 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  S  T&BABURl 


not  allow  this  to  be  their 
last  effort  to  do  something 
for  the  Jewish  Mission  here. 
I  hope  to  receive  a  box  every 
year ;  and,  if  the  sale  should 
be  intimated  a  few  weeks 
sooner  this  year  than  it  was 
last,  that  we  will  receive  a 
box  large  enough  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  the  school 


without  receii 
mittance  from 
We  have  had  a 
winter ;  so  n 
week  of  cold 
though  we  havi 
deal  of  rain ;  i 
beautiful  weat 
already    lookii 


mer. 


»f 


■■-/  ^j'j  ^"^j  J  •• 


(gors  ftfip. 


^T  will  never  be  dark  in  heave: 
Thas  spoke  a  little  child—- 
And  as  the  sweet  words  were 
She  looked  at  me  and  smilt 
For  her  spirit  was  pondering  with  great  deli^ 
The  thought  of  a  world  where  there  was  "  nc 

And  I  thought  how  those  words  so  sin 

The  Christian's  hope  expressed, 
As  sometimes,  midst  gloom  and  darkn 
He  journeys  to  his  rest ; 
He,  too,  is  expecting  a  glorious  day, 
When  earth's  night  and  shadows  have  passec 

And  the  teacher— he,  too,  may  reckon 

In  6od*s  own  light  to  see, 
When  he  reaches  "  the  holy  city," 
And  stands  in  its  brilliancy. 
To  his  wondering  heart  and  eye  unveiled, 
The  fruit  of  those  efforto  he  thought  had  fail* 

Oh,  should  not  these  prospects  gladdei 

6od*s  children  while  below, 
Till,  rejoicing,  we  there  shall  enter. 
And  perfect  brightness  know? 
By  /kith  now  led  onward,  \n  \iope  nv^  ^s&t| 
Tlie  eternal  light  of  the  heavenly  ftlax^ 


H^OME  time  ago  «  '  w  nun/  Eogltili  homei— I 
1^1  litlle  giri,  who  bad  |  mean  coDiamption.  One 
99  been  taught  in  SnodAj  eTening  itie  wnt  for 
^^  one  of  OUT  Lon-  '  her  fktber  to  coma  U  tm 
I  BiMd«f  -  •chod^  wtM  I  Iwdcfde.  He  wik  «  iVtAmt  \ 
A^  olF  bj  Ae  tarriMe  b»tet  of  rellRton*  ttath  »iw\ 
■^     whJcb      daolateM  1  nligioua    iiutilatianB,    »tiA 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAR'b  TRBABUBT* 


was  going  away  to  spend 
the  evening,  and  was  just 
rendy  to  leave  home.  His 
little  girl  had  now  been  ill 
for  some  time,  but  it  had 
never  seriously  occurred  to 
him  that  she  could  die;  he 
))ad  merely  regarded  her  as 
an  invalid.  Her  words  were, 
'*6ood  bye^  father,  I  am 
going  to  heaven — will  you 
meet  me  there  ?  ** 

Had  any  one  else  address- 
ed him  in  such  a  manner, 
he  would  have  burst  into 
oaths  and  curses,  but  he  saw 
death  in  that  little  trans 
)iarent  hand,  and  he  loved 
his  dying  girl,  and  the  ap- 
peal was  not  to  be  resist^. 


The    unnatural    bi 
of  those    large   bl 
glowing  with  the  u 
Ire  of  the  soul,  bo 
and  melted  him. 
his  elbow  on  the  b» 
chair,  and  covered 
with  his  hand,  whil 
tears  fell  thick  and 
his  eyes.     ^^  Father^ 
meet  me   there  f  ** 
tears  and  heavy  sot 
only     reply.      Th< 
learnt   from    that 
walk  in   the    shin) 
prints  of  his  darl: 
one,  until  both  em 
the    One     Father'i 
above. — Rev.  H,  Be 


I 


InJrfr  i\i  |ijj=9i;«f. 


}F  you  found  a  wedge  i 
of  gold,    how   you  ■■ 
would  run  to  show 
it    to   your   father 
and  mother,  your  brothers  | 
and  sisters.    If  you  make  a  ' 
new  acqu<i=ntance,  how  an- 
xious you  are  to  introduce 
your    friends  to    him,  and 
iiave  them  enjoy  his  society 
also.    It  is  natural  for  us  to 
wish  our   iriends  to  share 
our  enjoyment  with  us. 

I  suppose   Philip  felt  so, 
when  he  found  that  Jesus  ! 
Christ  was  the  very  Saviour 
which  the  Bible  promised  to 
men.    He  was  glad,  and  he 
went  directly  and  told  his 
friend  Nathanael,  **  We  have 
found  tijin  of  whom  Moaea 
62 


and  the  prophets  d 
Jesus  of  Nazireth, 
of  Joseph." 

*'  Can  any  goc 
come  out  of  Na 
asked  Nathanael,  f 
a  wicked  city.  P 
not  stop  to  argue 
*<  Come  and  see  *'  1 
self,  he  said,  know 
much  better  satisfl 
are  to  judge  for  t\\ 
than  by  hearsay,  ^ 
went  with  Philip 
Jesus  saw  him  co 
said,  **  There  is  a 
and  upright  man.** 
Jesus  know  ?  *'  He 
know  me?*' asked N 

\  ^\i«ii  -you  ^«» 


TBM  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'b  TBBA8URT. 


Ig-tree,  I   eaw    700,"   an^ 
iwered  the  Lord  Jesus. 

Nathanael    instantly  felt 

that  he  was  no  stranger  to 

Jens  of  Nazareth.    Some- 

tUng  took  place  under  the 

flf-trae  which    showed  his 

tne  charscter.    He  thought 

he  wss  alone.    He  thought 

no  eye  saw  him.    Perhaps 

he  went  out  under  its  quiet 

nd  cooling  shade  to  pray. 

The  Jews  often  chose  such 

pltoes  for  secret  prayer.  But 

the  eye  of  Jesus  uf  Naz.<ireth 

pierced  into  his  privacy,  and 

it  read  his  secret  thoughts 

•od  feelings.     Nathanael's 

ttotcience  told  him  that  he 

vi8  in  the  presence  of  an 

>U*ieeing  Being;    and  this 

vu  proof  enough  that  He 

could  not  be  a  mere  man : 

He  was  indeed  the   long- 

expected    Saviour.     **Mas- 

tff,"  cried  the  young  man, 

ttOThioed,   **Thou  art    the 

^  of  God;  thou  art  the 

King  of  Israel." 

Jetos,  children,  sees  us 
*hen  we  least  expect  it.  Do 
y^  try  to  hide  anything 
^MB  your  mother?  You 
emnot  hide  it  from  the  Lord 
Jenif.  Do  you  mean  to 
^eoeiTe  your  fiither  ?    You 


cannot  deceive  the  Lord 
Jesus.  If  you  mutter  a 
wicked  word,  He  hears  it ;  it' 
you  harbour  a  bad  thought. 
He  knows  it.  He  searches 
your  heart,  and  follows  you 
all  the  day  through.  You 
are  never  alone;  you  are 
never  out  of  His  sight.  The 
wicked  try  to  flee  from  Hit 
presence;  but  they  never, 
never  can.  This  is  a  great 
comfort,  if  you  live  in  such 
a  way  as  not  to  be  afraid  of 
JesuB*  eye.  This  is  a  com- 
fort which  all  His  friends 
have.  If  they  are  wrong- 
fully blamed,  or  ill-treat^, 
or  neglected,  or  oppressed, 
they  are  sure  that  Jesus 
knows  it  all.  He  will  judge 
right.  He  will  protect  and 
defend  them,  and  briiig  out 
everything  right  at  last.  He 
counts  all  your  tears,  and 
hears  all  your  sighs. 

How  is  it  with  you?  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  is  in  heaven 
now ;  but  He  sees  you,  juet 
as  He  saw  Nathanael  under 
tiie  flg-tree.  What  does  He 
find  you  doing  ?  Nathanael 
was  not  afraid  to  have  Christ 
look  at  Him.  Are  you.  my 
little  one  ?  —  British  Mes* 
senger. 


?^8bg  flit  tifef  $t)itx  ^thL 

[NCE,   in   a   happy  1  gathered  round  their  mother, 
home,     a    sweet,  <  all  sitting   very  sorro^fxiV,     \ 
bright  hahy  dM. .  Alice,  the  eldest,  said,  ^^^o-     \ 
Oa  tbeeveniapr  of    ther,  you  took  all  iVie  caT«     \ 
itff  dMXf  '^^^o  ^»  cbiklnn  /  of  baby  while  she  woa  V\ete,     \ 


THB  SABBATH  •OBOLAB'S  TBBAtllBV* 


and  you  carried  and  held 
lier  in  your  arms  all  the 
while  she  was  ill;  now, 
mother,  who  took  hsr  om  the 
otkersitkf** 

*«0u  the  other  side  of 
what,  Alice  ?  "  inquired  her 
mother. 

**On  the  other  side  of 
death ;  who  took  the  baby 
on  the  other  ude,  mother? 


She  was  so  little  i 
not  jio  alone  ?  " 

**Je0as  net  hm 
answered  the  moth< 
He  who  took  little 
in  His  ams  to  bl 
and  said,  *Siitbr 
eome  vnto  Me,  m 
them  not,  for  of  •« 
kingdom  of  heaTen  1 
the  baby  on  the  otl 


%  ^mianufs  ^amt 


my  yonng  readers 
erer  think  what  it 
is  to  be  a  mission- 
ary to  the  heathen?  how 
mueh  trial  and  SBtfering'  are 
the  lot  of  many  of  those  de- 
Toted  men,  who  go  abroad  to 
carry  with  them  the  glad 
tidings  of  salratioB  ? 

The  following  is  a  little 
incident  in  the  life  of  the 
great  and  good  missionary, 
JudM>n,  who,  aloBg  with  his 
cqvally  devoted  wife,  left 
their  native  land,  that  they 
II  light  spend  their  lives  in 
telling  the  Burmese  of  a 
Saviour. 

For  a  year  and  seven 
months  did  he  suffer  cruel- 
ties and  imprisonment  from 
the  hands  of  those  he  had 
given  up  all  to  seek  and  to 
Mve;  and,  after  hia  release 

from  bU  loog  oonfiDemeBU 
Si 


\ 


he  gives  the  followi 
ing  account  of  hia 
whh  his  wife : — 
Hasting   hone 
of  his    maimed  a 
found  the  door  "i 
open;'*  and,  unobi 
any  eye.  he  enteret 
first  room,  squatti 
the  ashes  surroundi 
pan  of  live  coals,  w 
half- naked.     Bum 
man,"  holding  on 
a  wan  dirt-begrin 
that  could  not  be 
glanced  at  it,  and  ] 
The  next  room  wai 
and,  across  the  foot 
bed,  **as  if  she  I 
there,"  lay  a  <'ht 
ject,*'  so  pale,  so  g 
emaciated,    that, 
moment  only,  the 
aroie,  ^^  Caxk  tkai  I 
and  rngpoii  \iA  'w 


TRB  tABBATB  aCBOLAR  •  TBBA8UKT. 


piM  on.  But  where  die 
eoukl  <^  be  ?  for,  aa  he 
lltneed  forward  into  the 
only  remaining  room,  there 
was  no  human  being  there. 
Turning  to  the  sleeper  in  the 
b«d,  he  gazed  in  mate  be- 
wilderment. Where  were 
the  gloMjT  black  carls  that 
med  to  adorn  that  finely- 
ihsped  head  ?  and  that 
closely- fitting  cotton  cap. 
10  coarse  and  so  soiled — and 
those  so  sharp  featores—and 


that  form  so  shrunken— coald 
this  be  she,  who,  for  so  many 
months,  had  followed  liim 
from  prison  to  prison,  min- 
istering so  devotedly  to  h*ls 
necessities ;  and  now  herself 
without  one  hand  to  smooth 
her  pillow,  or  one  heart  to 
beat  in  sympathy  ?  He  bent 
OTer  her;  and  a  great  tear 
trickled  down  that  manly 
face.  It  touched  her;  and 
she  awoke. 


WAnp  {torn  a  |ar  iistairt  intnh 

MR.  riSHER*8  KOTB8  FROM  AFRICA. 


LETTER,  of  date 
February  26,    has 
been  received  from 
Lynedoch,      within      Cape 
rV)]ony,  to  which  Mr.  Ross 
had  gone  to  meet  part  of 
his  fsmily.    They  left  our 
•holes  in  NoTember  last,  by 
the  "  John  Williams,"  which 
was  to  touch  at  the  Cape  on 
her  way  to  the  **  South  Sea 
Islands,"  or  **  Polynesia,"  or 
''Many     Isles,"     where    I 
hope   that  she   haa    aafely 
dUdiarged    her    freight   of 
miaaionariea,   biblea,  uaefhl 
aitidea,    &C.9     &c.        Our 
ftieod    Mr,    Hogg  Mad   hiB 
^  mbah  ikmiljr  now  met  to~ 


gether,  with  great  delight 
and  gratitude  to  our  hea- 
venly Father,  after  a  separa- 
tion of  ten  yeara.  And 
they  were  ail  happy  to  aet 
out  again  for  their  diataut 
wilderneaa  home  in  the  en- 
joyment of  good  health. 
But  firat— 

MR.  ROSS  ASSISTS  HIS 
BRETHREN. 

''In  Tiaiting  Port  Eliza- 
beth, we  found  ourselvea 
at  the  atation  of  a  very 
eateemed  agent  of  our  So- 
cjetj— the  London  Mvs«^ou- 
ary  —  who  labours  aiDowi^ 
the  Kaffirs  and  Fingoea,  \Ym 


THE  8ABB4TH  80HOLAB*8  TRBA817KT. 


ReT.  Roger  Edwards.  Our 
good  friend  was  unable  to 
preach  at  the  time,  and  I 
took  all  the  services  for  the 
Lord's  day.  The  same 
thing  occurred  at  Bedford, 
a  fortnight  before,  for  Mr. 
Solomon,  whose  wife  was 
apparently  dying,  but, 
through  diyine  mercy,  is 
now  recovering.  In  such  a 
way,  I  have  been  almost 
regularly  employed  since  I 
came  south  into  the  colony ; 
and  it  gives  me  great  joy, 
when  in  any  way  it  is  in 
my  power,  to  assist  and 
comfort  my  brethren." 

JODRNBY  FB01C  LTNBDOCH 
■    TO  PORT  fiLIZABETH. 

''Mrs.  Ross  is  greatly 
bettered  by  our  visit  to  the 
colony  and  travel  to  the 
bay,  and  feels  as  if  again 
able  for  teaching  her  various 
classes,  without  visiting  the 
home  of  our  fathers,  as  was 
proposed.  It  cost  us  five 
days  of  hard  travelling  to 
come  from  Lynedoch  to  the 
bay.  The  road  is  right 
over  a  range  of  hills  called 
the  *•  Zuurbergen  "  or '  *  Sour- 
hills,'*  which,  being  about 
twenty-four  miles,  took  a 
whole  day.  Great  care  has 
to  he  taken  on  that  rather 

dangeron§,    indeed,  I    may 
66 


\ 


say,  terrible  road. 
managed  it  w< 
well,  and  all  by 
of  day,  except  a  i 
by  the  light  of  tb( 
returning.  In  sn< 
dicament,  it  is  goc 
tried  drivers  and 
good  oxen,  and,  i 
good  reimchoen  foi 
gons ;  that  is,  whei 
chain  is  so  used  f 
▼ent  one  wheel  froi 
round  ;  the  same  w 
be  dnigged  upon 
iron  shoe,  to  keep 
of  the  wheel  in 
spoiled.  Great  < 
requires  to  be  ta 
our  oxen  do  not 
be  stolen,  or  get  tl 
common  to  oxen 
colony." 

THE  SAD  DI8A8TB1 
ZAMBEZI. 

"  You  would  be 
indeed,  I  am  sure 
take  an  interest  in 
would  be  deeply  i 
learn  of  the  deal 
and  Mrs.  Helmore,' 
of  their  childre: 
Price  and  her 
Thabe,  our  deacor 
atlong,  and  seven 
who  have  fallen  v 
tYve  \ii\et\Qit  i«r<9«i 
a\aa\  Yio^n  ^Qt\ 


THB  SABBATH  IOHOLAR'II  TRBA8URT. 


it  the  life  of  the  de- 
missionary,  but  espe- 
in   Buch   pestilential 
»l 

I  trulj  to  be  regretted 
Dr.  LiTingstone  had 
en  before  the  mission- 
.t  Linyanti  as  was  ex- 
1,  that  due  prepara- 
lad  been  made,  and  a 
y  locality  chosen  for 
K)or  wilderness- worn 
en  who  haye  now 
Eyen  in  that  case 
irould  have  been  great 
[most  aneqnallid  pri- 
s  for  them  to  endure, 
laye  just  heard  that 
B.  Price  and  Mac- 
)  and  Mrs.  Mackenzie 
been  found,  and  may, 
lis   time,    be   at    the 


oan.' 


BIS 
BIS 


BOBS       DIRK0T8 
UOllTS     TOWARDS 
rrKD  HOME. 

hen  we  left  Bechu- 
nd,  great  drought  and 
)  were  prevalent ;  and, 
ieye,  yeiy  little  rain 


has  fallen  there  since.  How 
hundreds  and  thousands  are 
to  get  through  another  win- 
ter is  unknown  to  me  I  I 
do  fear  many  will  fall  in  the 
awful  strufrglel  The  Mis- 
sion was  highly  prosperous 
when  I  left.  Both  our  con- 
gregations  and  schools  were 
yery  well  attended  ;  and  our 
contributions  for  divine  or- 
dinances, though  not  great, 
exceeded  those  of  former 
years.  God  can  carry  on 
His  great  work  in  the  midst 
of  our  complicated  troubles 
and  trials.  There  is  no  diffi 
cuky  with  Him!  And  we 
look  to  Him  alone ;  for  it 
is  God  alone  from  whom 
Cometh  all  our  aid.  Jf  we 
are  not  hindered  by  rain  and 
bad  roads,  we  mean  to  start 
immediately  for  our  impor- 
tant field  of  labour,  to  spend 
and  be  spent  in  a  cause,  in 
which  I  feel  it  to  be,  as  wtll 
I  may,  my  highest  honour 
and  privilege  to  work. 

R*  F.  F. 


Iflfesioirarg  f  lants  anlr  6atrlr«is. 


^ISS  B.  makes  a  yery 
^    pretty        sugges- 
tion  jn   a  letter. 


missionary  garden.      Each 
class     a    missionary    Y>e^. 
Each  scholar  a  mrnXotitiTy 
SAe  thinks  every  I  plant,  and  each   teach«T  a 

-goAooJ  should  be  a  /  missionary  gardener. 

OT 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAB*8  TMBAMUMtm 


The  thonght  18  certainly 
«  very  pretty  one.  Will  my 
children  adopt  it?  If  so 
they  must  ask  Jesus  to  fill 
their  hearts  with  His  lore, 
which  is  the  missionary 
spirit.  This  spirit  will  be  to 
them  what  sap  it)  to  a  plant. 
As  the  sap  flows  through 
the  tree,  and  causes  it  to 
bring  forth  leaves,  buds, 
blossoms,  and  fruit,  so  this 
love  will  cause  you  to  pro- 
duce good  words  for  the  mis- 
sionary cause,  which  I  will 
call  haves !  earnest  prayers 
for  the  heathen  and  their 
missionaries,  which  I  will 
call  Imds;  efibrts  to  persuade 
others  to  help  the  cause, 
wh'ch  I  will  call  blossoms; 
and  gifts  fiom  your  own  Httte 
tmrseSf  M'hich  I  will  call 
fruit. 

The  teacher,  as  gardener 
over  each  missionary  bed, 
must  train  his  pUnts  by  set  • 
ting  an  example  of  love  for 
the  cause ;  by  advising  you 
how  to  collect  funds  for  it ; 
by  telling  you  about  the  hea- 
ihen ;  and  by  so  instructing 
you  that  after  budding, 
blossoming,  and  fruiting  oa 


earth,  you  may  be  T( 
be  transplanted  to  U 
garden  of  Jesus  in  tfa 
tiful  land. 

I  read  lately  of  a  n 
ary  plant  that  bore  o 
dollars*  worth  of  fruii 
year.  She  was  a  blii 
Anxious  to  be  a  fruitft 
8he  asked  another 
conduct  her  to  the  1 
field  at  the  reapir 
There,  like  Ruth  of 
gleaned  the  stray  ea 
the  end  of  harves 
sold  her  crop  for  o' 
dollars!  Besides  t 
begged  pennies  of  her 
When  the  year  close 
found  that  she  had 
over  five  dollars.  V 
that  dear  blind  girl  a 
plant  ? 

Are  you  a  mil 
plant.  Master  Rou] 
Ready  ?  Are  yoi 
Wide-awake?  If  i 
many  buds  did  you  li 
year  ?  How  many  bl< 
How  much  fruit  ? 
Jesus,  the  great  o^ 
our  missionary-field 
you  to  blossom  like 
mond-treel— 5:  S.  A 


I 


^X0isneh  in  iea% 


,ENRY   v.,  on  the 
evening    of  Agin- 
court,    found    the 
chlvalric       David 
Cannon   still   clasping   the 

banner,  which,  through  the  ^ ^      ^ ,    __, 

Sght,  hU  atreutf  th  had  borne,  \  routed  x)aA  ^toi^ 
68 


and  his  right  arm  d( 
Often  had  the  t 
noticed  that  pennon 
in  the  foremost  van 
men  of  England,  w 


TBM  KABBATH  MHOLAB*t  TRBABURT. 


Fraaoe.  The  king  kaigbted 
him  at  he  lay.  The  hero 
dkd,  bat  dying  was  en- 
nobled! How  much  more 
red  —  precious  —  beaatifnl 
the  IionoarB  which  descend- 
ed on  the  roartvra  in  the 
itrnggles  of  their  finiU 
bount  Tea  fearful  Chris- 
titn,   Cyprian    lays,    **Do 


they  persecate  thee?  Ex- 
alt; for  then  fidelity  and 
aims  —  then  crowns  come 
with  reach  1 "  And  Banyan, 
not  less  a  father  of  the 
Church  than  Cyprian,  tells 
the  great  adversary  boldly, 
**  Satan,  thou  art  only  bind- 
ing garlands  on  my  brow  1 " 
— Rev.  J.  Col^, 


i^tnUx  "^eit  l|an  ^is. 


T  is  related  that  a 
poor  woman  was 
once  working  in  one 
of  the  Swiss  valleys, 
with  her  child  lying  near 
her,  when  a  large  eagle  sud- 
denly swept  by  her,  seized 
lier  little  one,  bore  it  away 
to  a  lofty  crag,  and  dep08it<>d 
it  in  its  eyrie.  The  dis- 
tracted mother  implored  one 
inan  and  another  to  attempt 
the  perilous  ascent  and 
rescue  lier  babe. 

Her  en  i  reaties  were  in  Tain. 
They  all  alleged  that  a  rent 
in  the  way  was  impassable. 
In  an  instant  she  turned  from 
them  and  rushed  up  the  dan- 


gerous path.  When  ahe 
came  to  the  yawning  gulph, 
unconscious  of  peril,  and 
impelled  by  the  self-sacrific- 
ing ardour  of  a  mother*s 
loTe,  which  the  ieopardy  of 
her  defenceless  babe  had 
fanned  to  frenzy,  she  sprang 
across  the  fearful  chasm, 
and  halted  nnt,  tracing  her 
way  in  blood,  till  her  arm 
was  stretched  across  her 
affrighted  little  one.  Much 
greater  as  was  her  love  than 
the  men  to  nhom  she  made 
her  appeal,  yet  the  love  of 
Christ  infinitely  transcends 
the  intensest  affection  of  the 
fondest  mother's  love. 


Jffialter  a«l>  pis  <^orrDk 


sod 


OUNG  WALTER 
was  a  Christian 
boy.  He  had  given 
his  heart  to  Chxisl; 


to    the    celestial 


his    way 
city. 

But  Walter*s  heart  gave 
hiw  no  little  trouble.    VaVa 
WM3  tijiog  to  walk  aa  I  t/ioaghta,    proud    tVioufYvta^ 
M  young  pilgrim  on  j  eDviovL%  thoughts  crept  \ut» 

6Sl 


THB  SABBATH  80H0LAR*B  TRBASUmT. 


it  like  ugly  worms,  and  tried 
to  breed  wicked  feelings  and 
desires.  Walter  was  sorry, 
because  he  knew  Jesus  would 
no  more  dwell  in  his  heart  if 
such  feelings  lired  in  it  than 
he  would  himself  liye  in  a 
viper^s  nest.  !So  he  went  to 
his  chamber  and  prayed: 
**  Please,  God,  giye  me  a 
humble  heart.'* 

Now  it  so  happened  that 
about  this  time  Walter*s 
schoolmates  teased  him  a 
great  deal.  So  he  went  to 
his  teacher  weeping. 

"  Why  do  you  weep,  Wal- 
ter ?  *'  his  teacher  inquired. 

**  Because  God  does  not 
answer  my  prayer,**  replied 
the  boy. 

**  What  did  you  pray  for, 
my  dear?"  asked  the  teacher. 

**  I  prayed  for  a  humble 
heart,  and  since  I  prayed  for 
it  the  boyshaye  been  so  cross 
to  me  and  haye  so  teased 
and  mocked  me  that  I  can 
hardly  bear  it/'  and  poor 
Walter's  tears  flowed  in  big 
drops,  and  deep  sobs  came 


up    from    his   hea: 
spoke. 

The  teacher  passe 
round  Walter*s  wai 
him  very  tenderly,  i 

**My  child  mus 
vexed  because  the  b 
him.  It  is  by  gi' 
grace  to  endure  the 
ings  that  God  meai 
swer  your  prayer, 
patient  and  meel 
their  insults  you  wi 
humble  mind." 

Walter  smiled  tbi 
tears.  He  had  g»in 
idea  and  was  comfoi 
still  prayed  that  Ott 
make  him  humble,  a 
that  his  prayers  we 
answered  by  the  i 
with  which  God*s  g^ 
bled  him  to  endure  t 
ing  of  his  schoolmal 

I  printed  this  s^ 
fact  because  I  thouj 
of  the  Christian  I 
girls  who  read  n 
might  need  to  learn 
lesson  which  Walter 
taught  him.— iS.  S, . 


%\t  <l\x\)!rctxi  tl^at  Pelp^b  i\m 


iRS.  HALSTED  was 
a  widow.  Her 
health  was  poor, 
and  she  had  three 
small  children  to  take  care 
of,  and  to  support  with  her 
needle. 

Little  George  and  Katie 
were    very    bright,  pretty 
ebiidrea:     bat    they    had 
fO 


never  been  to  ! 
school  because  theu 
thought  they  were  U 
But  one  pleasant  i 
Miss  Perley,  one 
teachers,  called  fc 
saying  that  she  cot 
them    something 


the  Savtonr  vonldloTe  them. 
When  theyweA  returning 
homo  ilie  lud  to  them, 
smonK  other  thingi : 

"You  loTe  joMt  mother 
very    much,    1    hope,  chil- 

"O  jea,  ms*>in,"  they 
both  replied  in  a  breath. 

"Thafi  right,  cliildren, 
for  the  i«  a  dear  good  mo- 
ther to  you  ;  the  vorki  very 
hard  for  you  to  get  your 
food  and  cloihet,  and  du  yott 
try  and  help  ber7" 


"O  1 


•mall,"  they  wuwered  at  the 

"  O  no,  yon  are  mlitaken, 
roj  deiin;  yon  are  not  too 
tmall.  To  be  aure,  you  can't 
work  much  to  help  her,  but 
I  will  lell^OD  irhatyou  urn 
da.     Wbeu  ^oiu  matber  ia 


ieviiig,  tf  ihe  drop*  her 
needle  or  thread  yon  can 
pick  it  up  lor  her ;  or,if  ihe 
nanli  anything  you  can 
lun  and  get  it  lor  her ;  and 
you  can  rock  the  babj'  and 
play  with  it  to  keep  it  from 
uryinti  \  and  you  cau  keep 
your  fi«t  clean,  ao  that  you 
won't  track  the  floor ;  and 
you  can  |,utynurplaythinga 
all  away  when  you  are 
through  with  tliem,  and  not 
leave  them,  ae  I  aaw  them 

I  tlie  other  day,  all  scatteiad 
ab^ut  the  rootn;  and  you 
can  take  care  of  your 
clothea,  and  be  careftit  and 
not  aoil  them.    U  children, 

,  you  can  do  a  great  deal  to 
help  your  mother." 

"  So  we  can,"  «iA\i&m«&     \ 

GeorBe  eaTim\\y>  ^ 

"  Ym,  joh  «»ti,  Vt^***,"*. 


TUB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TRRASURT. 


you  will  only  try,**  replied 
Miss  Periey. 

'•  Well,  we*ll  try,  wont  we, 
Katie?- 

"Yes,  we*ll  try,**  rejoined 
Katie  with  a  bright  smile. 

And  they  did  try.  When 
they  reached  home  their 
mother  was  just  going  out  to 
the  spring;  to  get  a  pail  of 
water  to  fill  the  tea-kettle. 
"  O  mother,  let  me  bring  the 
water  r*  exclaimed  George, 
attempting  to  take  the  pail 
from  her  hand. 

••  Why,  you  couldn't  c^rry 
it,  child,"  replied  Mrs.  Ual- 
sted  putting  him  aside. 

"O  but  1  c^n  go  with  the 
little  P'lil  a  good  many  times 
and  bring  till  I  fill  this  one.'* 


•*  Well,    you 
George,  for  I  don 
well  this  aftemoc 
aches  so.** 

At  this  roonser 
commenced  cry  in 
ran  in,  not  waiti] 
for  her  mother  to 
and  going  to  the 
lifted  the  little  o 
sat  it  upon  the 
played  with  it  til 
to  laughing  mer 
all  thraugk  the 
did  so  mndi  to 
mother  tktt  she 
that  her  labours  v 
and  every  week  t 
more  and  more 
the  assistance  of 
Katie. — Bena  Ra 


g^AUNCli  thy  baric,  mariaeri  Ckristiai 
thee! 
<7i^o^    Let  loose  thy  radder-bands ;  good 
'4^^M        thee! 
Set  thy  sails  wsril^^ ;  tempests  will  come  ; 
Steer  thy  course  steadily ;  Christiao,  steer  hom 

Look  to  the  weatker-bow,  breakers  are  round  tl 
Let  fall  the  plummet  now,  shallows  may  groan 
Reef  in  the  foresail  there ;  hold  the  helm  fost  I 
So ; — let  the  vessel  wear;  there  swept  the  blast. 

What  of  the  night,  watchman — what  of  the  ni^ 
•*  Clowiy—aU  quiet — no  land  yet — aWs  right.** 
Be  wakeful— be  vigilant — danger  may  be 
At  an  hour  when  all  seemeth  securest  to  thee. 

How !  gains  the  leak  so  fast  ?  dean  out  the  hole 
Hoist  up  thy  merchandise — heave  out  thy  gold 
There !  let  the  ingots  go !  now  the  ship  rights  ! 
Hurrah !  the  harbour^s  near ; — ^lo,  the  red  light 

Slacken  not  sail  vet  at  inlet  or  island ; 

Straight  for  the  beacon  steer,  straight  for  the  hi 
Crowd  all  thy  canvas  on  -  cul  tYvroM^^Yi  \Y\«  ti^vc 
Cbristian,  cast  mnchor  now  ;  HkilVkk  iatut  v 
^2 


^BfEmngs  of  Ctou  ^Hssionarg  |amilifs. 

^HEanniul  report  of.  tribe*    in    Central     South 

the    London   Hit-  !  Africa,  to  the  norih  of  the 

Society  :  Z«tubeii.     It   appenrs    iliat 


countofl>ief<>Brful*u0tringt  j  lithed  at  the  intlanceot  Ui  \ 
of  ihe  mittionariei  who  an- ,'  LiTingatone  vht\a  in  XV*  ^ 
dtrlooJe  tbt  miMtloa  to  the  '  KrTice  of  the  Souiet-i  -,  *Am 


THB  BiffiBATH  SOHOLAB'B  TRBASUBT. 


one  on  the  north  of  the  Zam- 
besi, among  the  Makoiolo, 
and  the  other  on  the  south, 
among  the  Matebele.  The 
attempt  to  establish  the 
former  was  committed  to  the 
RvV.  Holloway  Helmore, 
with  Messrs  Price  and  Mac- 
kenzie as  fellow -labourers: — 
The  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers attendant  on  their  jour- 
ney of  nearly  a  thousand 
miles  from  Kuruman  and 
Linyanti  were  such  as  no- 
thing but  the  noblest  Chr  s- 
tian  principles  would  have 
induced  them  to  encounter 
or  enabled  them  to  sur- 
mount- Of  these*  the  chief 
was  the  destitution  of  water 
boih  for  tiiemselves  and 
their  oxen,  so  that,  in  more 
than  one  case,  they  were 
obli^red  to  remain  scYeral 
weeks  in  the  vicinity  of  a 
fountain,  not  knowing  how 
remote  the  next  might  prove. 
At  length,  after  enduring  in- 
numerable difficulties  and 
privaii  >bs  for  seven  months, 
they  arrived,  on  February 
14,  1860,  at  Linyanti,  the 
residence  of  the  chief  Sekel- 
etu.  Although  disappointed 
by  the  non-arrivai  of  Dr 
Livingstone,  and  grieved  by 
the  refusal  of  the  chief  to 
allow  them  to  seek  a  salu- 
brious spot  for  the  mission, 
our  brethren  forthwith  com- 
menced their  work  of  mercy 
among  the  people.  *'  But 
now/' says  Mr  Price,  M-riting 
to  the  sister  of  Mr  Helmore, 
'*  begins  a  dark,  very  dkrk 
chapter  in  the  history  of  the 
74 


Makololo  mission 
course  of  about  a  w 
were  all  laid  low,  bi: 
especially  Mr  and  M 
more,  the  four  childr 
all  our  servants;  but  1 
the  great  mercy  of  G 
Price  and  myself  wi 
able  to  move  about 
although  with  great 
ty.  We  were  able  U 
a  little  upon  our  dear 
the  Uelmores,  neii 
whom  could  hardly 
limb.  Aslwasgoin 
one  evening  to  see 
were  all  comfortable, 
the  four  children  lyii 
bed  on  the  outside 
tent,  and  Mrs.Helii 
the  side  of  the '  be 
cushion.  They  wi 
asleep.  I  felt  their  io: 
&c. ;  at  last  I  came 
little  Henry;  he  li 
slept  the  sleep  of  d 
immediately  infom 
iather,  who  was  lyin 
tent;  he  told  me  Iha 
not  tell  Mrs  Ileln 
the  morning.  I  t( 
child  into  the  tent  as 
ped  up  the  body  in  a 
c-iri.etiuir,  and  engaj 
to  prepare  a  ^rave, 
might  bury  him  t 
morning.  He  wa^ 
by  the  side  of  Mah 
waggon  diiver,  who '. 
a  few  days  pre 
When  it  was  told  I^ 
II  ore  she  took  nc 
whatever ;-  althoi 
was  her  dear,  precio 


\ 


THB  SABBATH  BCHOLAR's  TRBASURT. 


Httle  baby  died.   On  the  1 1  th 

Sdioa   Helmore    died,  and 

on  the  same  d>ty  Thabi  of 

r^ikatlong.     On     the     12th 

Sin    Helmore    died.      Mr 

FJelmore  had  some  converaa- 

tion  with  her  shortly  before 

«lie  expired.     She  said  she 

Had  no  desire  to  live — her 

^vork    was    done,  and    she 

^A'ished  to  go  home  to  Jesus. 

^Xfter  that  Mr  del  more,  and 

1  lizzie,  and  Willie  improved 

L^ooViderMb'y,  until  about  the 

middle  of  April,  when   Mr 

l~  lelmore  paid  a  visit  to  Sek- 

€f  letu  in  the  town,  and  came 

t^Ackvery  tired  and  feeling 

"^^^ery    unwt-lL     From    that 

t^ame  he  became  worse  and 

^"^one,  and  on  April  20  he 

fell  into  a  kind  <>f  sleep,  and 

"remained  in    that   state  of 

u  I  •consciousness    for    about 

i.Vii«y.flve  hours,  snd  then, 

^:>  the  night  of  Saturday, 

brenthed  his  last.    All  these 

^  wrapped  up  and  consigned 

^nles*  to  the  silent  tomb 

with  my  own  hnnds,  with  the 

•"xcepiinn  of  my  own  chihl, 

*bich  nied  in  the  arms  of  its 

mother  whilst  she  sat  at  my 

'Hidsiiie   as  I    lay   helpless 

<rom  fever. 

From  this  scene  of  death 
tile  solitary  missionary  and 
hi«  wife  prepared  to  depart, 
>'  the  Only  means  of  saving 
•heir  own  lives  and  the  lives 
uf  the  little  orphans  entrust- 
*<1  to  their  care ;  They  were, 
however,  robbed  of  almost 
e»<»rything  by  the  chief- 
even  food — Mf/d  Here  thus 
taraed  adritl  for  a  joaruey 


I 


of  one  thousand  miles    to 
Kurnman.     At  length,  says 
Mr  I'rice  in  a  letter  brought 
by  the  la!>t  African  mail  to 
the  directors  of  the  mission — 
**At  length,  on  the  19th 
June,  we  left  the  town  ac- 
companie<l   by   Sekeletu   in 
h'S  new  waggon.      In   the 
evenins^    we    reached     the 
river  of  L^nyanti,  and  on 
the  following  day  all  the  re- 
maining goods  were  taken 
over  in  canoes.    That  being 
done,  a  mesj^atse  came  to  me 
from  Sekeletu  to  this  etfect, 
that  now  the  goods  were  •  n 
one  side  of  the  river  and  the 
waggons  on  the  other,  and 
that  they  would  remain   so 
until  1  went  over  and  de- 
livered up  all  Mr  llelmo'e's 
goods.     1  remonstrated,  but 
in  vain;  i  whs  like  a  lamb 
in  a  lion*s  mouth.     A  great 
many  of  my  own  thing-*  also 
I  had  to  deliver  up.    Three 
C'tws  alflo  ard  several  oxen 
were  taken  »t  that    river. 
Having    thus    got    a    good 
j  drtining  there,  I  p'^octeded 
i  to  the  Chobe.     I  took  out  all 
I  my  fc:oods  ready  for  crossing, 
,  and  then  a  me<tsage  came  to 
me  that  Sekeletu  hod  hither- 
'  to  only  got  Mr  H.'s  goods, 
I  and  that  now  he  must  have 
,  mine.     After  a  good  deal  of 
I  pleading   i    was  allowed    a 
few  things  for  the  journey, 
'  such  as  a  couple  of  shirt:*,  a 
J  vej«t  or  two,  two  or  three 
pairs  of  trousers,  an  old  coat 
.  that  I  had  worn  \n  ^nvi\aTv^ 
al)oat  two  year^  an  oVi  p'^t 
of  shoes  which  I  had  o^%  ^ 

15 


THB  SABBATH  BGHOLAB'S  TBBA8UBT. 


Already  they  had  taken  all 
my  bed  clothing,  with  the 
exception  of  what  was  just 
sufficient  for  one  bed ;  for 
the  other  we  had  a  kaross. 
But  before  my  oxen  could 
cross  the  Chobc,  I  most  needs 
deliver  up  one  blanket. 
Every  grain  of  com  which  I 
had  for  food  for  the  men 
they  had  taken,  and  for  all 
these  things  I  did  not  get 
even  a  goat  for  slaughter  for 
the  road.  These  were  my 
prospects  for  a  journey  of 
upwards  of  a  thousand  miles 
to  Kuruman.** 

After  a  few  days  the  poor 
missionary  with  his  helpless 
wife  and  the  two  orphans  in 
his  charge  were  gathered 
together  one  night  in  the 
wilderness.  Next  morning 
the  wife  was  dead,  and  he 
buried  her  under  a  tree,  the 
only  tree  in  the  preat  plain 
of  the  Mababe.  The  report 
continues : — 

*'  Mr  Price  writes : — *  On 
the  plain  of  the  Mababe,  on 
the  evening  of  the  4th  of 
July,  Mr  He'more*s  two 
children,  my  wife,  and  I,  met 
together  for  our  evening 
meal,  when  we  entered  into 
conver>ation  about  what  we 
had  seen  and  suffered  ;  and, 
feeling  that  we  were  begin- 
ning to  breath  again  the  free 
a*r  of  the  desert,  we  admon- 
ished one  another  to  forget 
the  past  and  think  of  our 
mercies.  My  dear  wife  had 
been  for  a  long  time  utterly 
helpless,  but  we  all  thought 
she  wssgettivg  better.     She 

76 


went  to  sleep  that 
In  the  morning  e 
found  her  breathin 
hard.  I  spoke  to  h 
tried  to  wake  her,  bi 
too  late.  I  watched 
the  morning.  She 
worse  and  worse,  anc 
after  midday  her  spi 
its  flight.  1  buried 
same  evening,  under 
the  only  tree  on  th( 
of  the  immense  plaii 
Mababe.'  In  this  le 
Price  expresses  a  it? 
pression  that  Mr  ai 
Helmore,  their  child: 
the  BechuanaChristi 
died  at  Linyatiti,  wer 
victims  of  poison  a 
tered  them  by  tlu 
through  the  presen 
received  on  their  ar 
his  town.  This  pain 
elusion  of  oar  friend  i 
ed  on  the  report  of 
of  the  Makololo,  w 
informed  him  that  i 
departure  the  body 
beloved  wife  had  b< 
interred  and  mutila^ 
the  face  taken  to  1 
for  exhibition.  B 
notorious  habits  of  in 
and  lying  of  these 
would  afford  strong 
for  distrusting  sucl 
ments.  Sir  Georg 
and  other  friends 
Cape  were  also  of 
that  the  sympton 
characteristics  of  the 
were  identical  with  i 
which  so  often  pre^ 
the  ftOwlVv  Qit  \VvA  1 
anA  "which  lix  \A?i 


XBB  SABBATH  MHOLAR's  TRBASURT. 


nently  witnesied  and 
iflSered  on  his  former 

» 

he  SOth  of  last  Feb- 
Mr  Price,  with  tlie 
riom  children  and 
ckenzie,  had  reached 
an.    After  a  rest  of 


six  weeks  or  two  months, 
he  meant  to  proceed  with 
the  children  to  Cape  l*own 
and  thence  forward  them 
to  England,  leaving  himself 
still  at  the  disposal  of  ti^e 
mission. 


xni  us  "§01  into  ©mptation/' 


rSAMMA,"  said 
Charles,  when 
he  came  from 
school  one  daj, 
a  dreadful  thing  has 
ed !  Henry  Downing 
n  caught  stealing !" 
alingl"  cried  Harriet 
1  Allen  together. 

I,  like  a  common  thief, 
if  us  were  passing  a 
r*s  shop, and  he  called 
i  the  beautiful  things, 
give  a  look  at  them, 
itayed  behind,  gazing, 
went  away,  he  said, 
.  I  had  some  of  that 

1    he    was    putting 
into    temptation," 
"s  Allen. 

II,  we  walked  on; 
en  we  had  got  a  good 
;  we  looked  back  to 
lie  was  coming.  He 
ining  along  the  street 

sp^,  and  a  roan 
m.  The  man  caught 
d  we  returned  to  see 
as  the  matter.  He 
ufirglJng'  and  crying; 
xmuM  held  bim  faat,  J 


dragged  him  back  to  the 
shop,  and  said  he  would  put 
him  in  prifon.  His  pockets 
were  full  of  grapes  and 
oranges.  We  all  begged  so 
hard,  that  the  man  only  sent 
for  his  parents  to  take  him 
home.*' 

*'  This  is  a  dreadful  story," 
said  Mrs  Allen. 

**It  was  with  looking  at 
ftruit,  mamma,  that  he  longed 
for  it." 

**  He  went  into  temptation, 
and  stayed  in  it,  and  there- 
fore God  did  not  deliver  him 
from  eyU,"  said  Mrs  Allen. 

**Are  we  not  sometimes 
tempted  when  we  cannot 
help  it?"  Harriet  inquirpd. 

•*Yes,  often,"  replied  her 
mother;  "but  answer  me, 
what  does  the  Lord's  Prayer 
teach  us  to  pray  for  ?" 

Harriet  replied,  *<'Lead 
us  not  into  temptation,  but 
deliver  us  from  eviL'  We 
pray  that  God  would  either 
keep  us  from  being  tempted 
to  evil,  or  support  and  deliver 
us  when  we  art  tempted."* 

*'  To  go  into  temvXaX\o\i\% 

11 


THB  SABBATH  BCHOLAB'S  THBABURT. 


wicked/*  said  Mra  Allen;  : 
**  but  when  others  tempt  us, 
or  Satan  tempts  us  in  a  way 
we  cannot  avoid,  then  we  | 
ought  to  seek  God*s  grace 
to  enable  us  to  overcome  the 
temptation.  Christians  must 
fiffht  against  sin  even  to 
their  lives'  end  ;  but  if  they 
trust  in  God,  and  seek  the 
aid  of  His  Spirit,  He  will 
give  them  the  victory.  He 
will  not  always  keep  them 
out  of  temptation,  although 
they  on^ht  to  ask  that ;  hut 
He  will  most  assuredly  make 


them  more  than  conquerors 
tlirough  Him  who  loved 
them :  He  will  answer  their 
prayer,  and  'deliver  them 
from  evil.' " 

There  in  a  path  that  leads  to  God : 

All  others  go  astrav : 
Narrow,  but  pleasant  is  the  road. 

And  Christians  love  the  way. 

Lord,  lost  my  feeble  steps  should 
slide. 
Or  wander  from  the  way. 
Be  Thon  my  Guardian   and   my 
Guide, 
And  I  shall  never  stray. 

— Children  8  Friend. 


^\it  Pountain  llofenr. 


N    Poss-shire,    Scot-  ' 
land,    there    is    an  ■ 
immense   mountain 
gorge.      The  rocks 
have  been  rent  in  twain,  and  I 
set  apart  twenty  feet,  f  )rm- 
ing  two  perpendicular  walls 
two  hundred  feet  in  height. 
On  either  side  of  these  natu- 
ral walls,  in  crevices  where 
earth   h^ts    collected,    grow 
wild  flowers  of  rare  quality 
and  beauty.    A  company  of 
tourists  visiting  that  part  of 
the  country  were  desirous 
to    possess    themselves    of 
specimens  of  these  beautiful  ! 
mountain  flowers;  but  how 
to  obtain  them  they  knew 
not.   At  length  they  thought  ■ 
they  might  be  gathered  by  ; 
,      suspending  a  person  over  the  ' 
/    clitr  by  a.  Tope,   They  offered 
/     M  Highlttnd  boy^  who   was 

L '' 

i 


near  by,  a  handsome  sum  of 
money  to  undertake  the 
difficult  and  dangerous  task. 
The  boy  looked  down  into 
the  awful  abyss  that  yawned 
below,  and  shrunk  from  the 
undertaking ;  but  the  money 
was  tempting.  Gould  he 
confide  in  the  strangers  ? 
Could  he  venture  his  life  in 
their  hands  ?  He  felt  he 
could  not;  but  he  th^iught 
of  his  father;  and  looking 
once  more  at  the  cliff,  and 
then  at  the  proffered  r»> 
ward,  his  eyes  brightened, 
and  he  exclaimed,  ^^I'll  go 
if  my  father  holds  the  rope.* 
Beautiful  illustration  of  the 
nature  of  faith.  If  the  High- 
land boy  could  only  place 
the  strong  hand  and  loving 
Yveart  ot  Vv\«  ^K^v^'t  V^  tin  ^ 
ol\\eT  end  ot  vV»  to^  >■* 


nu  AABBATB  BCHOLAR's  TBSASUBT. 


loend  the  precipice 
iiieM  mind.  Lore 
sr  would  keep  him 
ing,  and  bring  him 


up  again  with  hit  floral  prize 
—a  trophy  of  his  fnthers  af- 
fection and  his  own  faith«>- 
Chriatian  MisceUan^, 


)t  p;issionarg  ijpk=£rcf. 


Fj  of  the  pleasant- 
est  visits  I  ever 
remember  to  have 
paid  was  to  a 
ed  couple  at  Bid- 

I  Warwiclcshire. 
now  both  gone  to 

venly  home,  and  I 
tion   their  names, 

II  be  well  known  to 
Mr  and  Mrs  Hus- 
hey  had  lived  out 
I  and  useful  lives 
asant  village  where 
:hem. 

th  to  age  they  ran  their 

ice, 

id  changed,  nor  wished 

ge  their  place.** 

tsell  was  a  mnrket- 
He  and  his  good 
reared  a  very  large 
id  had  been  obliged 
practise  both  great 
ind  great  economy 
ide  things  honest  in 
of  all  men."  Yet 
'ays  contrived  to 
ething  to  give  to  a 
e  or  a  poor  neigh- 

r  as  clockwork  was 
g  in  that  cheerful 
hich  I  no  well  re- 
I  have  been  pri' 
share  the  family 


worship  of  many  delight- 
ful homes— there  are  many 
families  that  rise  to  my  re- 
collection, hallowed  with  a 
Divine  light ; — but  this  aged 
villager*s  morning  and  even- 
ing prayers  will  bear  com- 
parison for  earnestness,  ten- 
derness, and  faith,  with  any- 
thing I  ever  heard. 

On  the  day  of  my  arrival, 
on  looking  through  a  back- 
window,  I  saw  the  garden 
extending  in  all  its  beauty 
of  careful  tillage,  and  rich 
produce;  but  the  object  that 
immediately  arrested  my 
attention,  was  a  remarkably 
fine  apple-tree,  just  a  little 
distance  from  the  window. 
It  was,  I  think,  the  hand- 
somest apple  tree  in  growth 
and  bark  that  I  had  ever 
seen — for,  though  the  fruit 
of  apple-trees  is  delightful, 
and  the  blossom  the  perfec- 
tion of  beauty,  the  shape  of 
the  tree  is  not  often  good. 

•♦Well!  what  a  fine  tree!" 
I  said.    ^  You  shall  taste  the 
irult,  it  was  gathered  only 
,  last  week,"  and,  quick  as 
thought,    away    went    Mrs 
Kussell,  and  broiyiht  tome 
of  \he  apples.      Tbey  >a«re 
p/easaot  to  every    «eTk«Q — 
«hape,    colour,    ameW,    mn^ 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAB  8  TRBA8UI 


taste,  all  good.  I  praised 
them,  and  she  said,  **  Yes,  I 
just  let  you  taste  them,  but 
that*s  the  Missionary  tree.** 
**What  do  you  mean?**  I 
a»ked.  **  W  hy,  I  raised  that 
tree  first  of  all  from  a  pip  I 
planted  in  a  flower-pot.  1 
did  it  just  for  a  trial,  and 
when  I  found  it  grew,  and 
thrived,  I  planted  it  out, 
and  I  resolved  if  it  really 
came  to  any  thing  good,  that 
I  would  always  give  the  fruit 
of  it  to  the  Missionary  cause, 
and  it  did  thrive  wonder- 
fully ;  better  and  better  year 
by  year,  and  there  it  is  now, 
I  do  think  the  very  best  tree 
we  have.** 

''And  you  sell  the  fruit, 
then,  of  your  best  tree  for 
the  Missions?*' 


**  Yes,  of  cc 
what  I  rearei 
don*t  somehc 
tree,  we  look 
apart,  and  it*8 
that  of  late  y 
some  to  its  sti 
erally  bears  tl 
ever  there's  a 
how  that  tree ' 

Here  again 
self,  is  a  proo 
trifle  may  I 
means  of  grea 
of  an  apple 
send  the  gosp 
then.  And  i 
you  are  half 
pressed  with  1 
I  was,  that  d 
though  dead, 
ing  you  a  vali 
Band  of  Hope 


^\t  ^aint  anb  X\t  C«l 


IE    read    a   pretty 
story  of  St  An- 
thony, who  being 
in  the  wilderness, 
led   there  a  very  hard  and 
strait  life,    in  so  much  as 
none  at  that  time  did  the 
like;  to  whom  came  a  voice 
from  heaven,  saying,  **  An- 
thony, thou  art  not  so  per- 
fect as    is  a    cobbler    that 
dwelleth     at     Alexandria.*' 
Anthony,  hearing  this,  rose 
up  forthwith,   and  took  his 
staff,  and  went  till  he  came 
to   A/exandria,    where    he 
found  the  cobbler.   The  coh- 
80 


bier  was  ast( 
so  reverend  a 
his  house.  1 
said  to  him, 
tell  me  thy  w 
tion,  and  how 
thy  time."  • 
cobbler,  "as 
works  have  I 
life  is  but  sim] 
I  am  a  poor  c 
morning,  whc 
for  the  whole 
dwell,  especia 
neighbours  ai 
,  a%  1  V\KV^«  J 
\  at  my  VbX»^ 


TBB  SABBATH  ICHOLAR's  TRBA8URT. 


daj  in  getting  my 
[  1  keep  me  from 
x),  for  1  hate  no- 
tidi  aa  I  do  deceit- 
herefore,  when  I 
\y  man  a  promise, 
and  perform  it 
d  thus  1  spend  my 
y,  with  my  wife 
in,  whom  I  teach 
ct,  as  far  as  my 
'▼e  me,  to  fear  and 


dread  sin.    And  this  is  the 
sum  of  my  simple  life." 

In  this  story  you  see  how 
God  loveth  those  that  follow 
their  vocation  and  live  up- 
right, without  any  falsehood 
in  their  dealing.  This  An- 
thony was  a  great  holy 
man;  yet  this  cobbler  was 
as  much  esteemed  before 
God  as  he.  --Latimer. 


iltoags  in  tfee 


ag. 


.IN,  rain,  rain! 
will  it  never 
stop?"  thought 
little  Amy  H— , 
sed  her  small  face 
he  window-pane, 
tempting  to  see 
und  the  corner, 
jter    Ann    must 

school.     It  was 

those  rainy  days 
y  one  loves,  when 
fall  steadily  and 
nd  one  feels  sure 

are    completing 

on  as  rapidly  as 

order  to  treat  us 

bow.     It  was    a 

mizzly,  drizzly 
leemed  unwilling 
e  clouds. 

itle  Amy  looked 
forlorn  as  she 
e  long,  pendulous 
f  the  elms  sway 
thither  in  an  un- 
9  manner,  !^he  . 
what  made  the  j 
ad  if  jhe  poor  ■ 


little  doves  felt  it  through 
their  glossy  feathers ;  but 
she  knew  it  was  quite  use- 
less to  ask  her  mother,  for 
she  would  only  tell  her  not 

;  to  ask  so  many  questions, 
and  keep  out  of  her  way. 

Mrs.    n loved    her 

child ;  but  she  was  a  bust- 
ling, energetic  woman,  whose 
chief  care  was  to  keep  a 
w(  11  ordered  and  tidy  house, 
and  she  did  not  understand 
the  delicate  nature  of  the 
little  Amy,  who  had  been 
from  infancy  a  feeble  child, 
and  stood  sadly  in  need  of 
loving  and  tender  sympathy. 
She  was  not  beautiful;  but 
for  those  who  loved  her  there 
was  a  depth  of  love  in  her 
little  heart,  which  only 
needed  answering  sunbeams 
to  make  it  bear  sweetest 
blossoms,  and  light  up  her 
wan  face  with  the  beauty  ^^C 
coDtentmenU 
I'his  had  been  «\icVv  &  %«i^ 

day.     In  the  morula^   ftVi« 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEABUST. 


had  climbed  into  a  chair  to 
watch  her  mother's  proceed- 
ings as  she  made  the  pastry, 
when  an  unlucky  motion  of 
her  hand  had  sent  a  quantity 
of  flour  on  to  the  fluor,  call- 
ing forth  an  impatient  repri- 
mand from  her  mother. 
Choking  hack,  a  rising  sob, 
she  left  the  table,  and  essayed 
to  play  with  her  blocks, 
building  with  them  a  wall 
by  which  to  confine  White 
Lily,  her  kitten.  But,  im- 
patient at  such  imprison- 
ment, the  kitten  made  vigor- 
ous efforts  to  free  herself, 
and,  as  she  succeeded,  scat* 
tered  the  blocks  in  every 
direction. 

*'  What  a  looking  room  !'* 

exclaimed   Mrs.    H :  **  I 

declare  it's  no  use  to  clean 
up,  you  get  things  in  the 
way  so." 

No  more  house-building 
for  Amy  after  that ;  so  she 
walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  singing  softly  to  the 
kitten  in  her  arm$«,  till  it 
was  time  to  look  for  Ann's 
return  from  school, —  Ann, 
the  dear  sister,  who  loved 
the  little  one,  and  never  told 
her  to  keep  out  of  the  way. 

A  t  last  her  patient  waiting 
was  rewarded  by  a  glimpse 
of  Ann's  bonnet,  and  with  a 
cry  of  joy  Amy  bounded  to 
open  the  door  to  greet  her 
sister  with  outstretched 
hands  and  the  words,  "  I 
thought  you  would  never 
come  I " 
/'What  ails  my  pet?" 
said  AnDf  as  she  too^  the 

82 


child  in  her  arms,  i 
ing  the  hair  from 
face,  remarked  th 
weariness  in  her  ej 

"  Nothing," 
Amy ;  "  only  my  h 
so,  and  I  can't  pi  a 
troubling  mother." 

Ann  stghed ;  for 
the  little  heart 
trials.  So  far  into  i 
eve  she  sat  with  A 
upon  her  shoulde 
her  of  heaven,  mad 
by  God  and  the  an 
as  Amy  listened 
beamed  with  deli 
she  exclaimed,  ra 
head  with  animati< 

**  Ann,  I  must  g 
must.  Is  it  sucl 
way  ?  "  Suddenly 
darkened  her  fact 
said,  sadly,  * 
though,  I  should  g 
way  of  angels; 
careless." 

"  Never,  darling, 
sister,  clasping  mo 
the  little  form,  m 
too  surely  fading  a 

At  midnight  tl 
hurried   steps  and 
questions,  as  the 
was  awakened  by 
that  Amy  was  very 
days  of  watching,  i 
group  surrounded 
the  dying  child. 

"  Mother,"  sai< 
feeble  voice,  **  I  di( 
to  be  naughty,  ai 
your  way  so  mud 
hye,  mother,  1  am 
a\ee\k."  A.  little  w 
;  and  \vU\e  Xtci'j  hii 


TBB  SABBATH  SOUOLAR^S  TRBA8DRT. 


?ar0  the  graM  has 
Amy's  grave,  while 
suQg  requiems  in 
A'iog  trees;  but  for 


get  in  the  way."  Not  all  in 
vain  was  the  lesson  taught 
by  those  dying  lips,  beeds 
of  gentleness  and   patience 

ile.  as  nightly  she  |  were  sown  in  the  mother's 

lead  upon  the  pil-  |  heart,  which,  watered  with 
H saw   the  '  the  tears  of  repentance,  give 

y  face  of  her  child,  '  promise  of  an  abundant  liar- 

a  sweet  voice  say,  ■  vest  of  peace. 

1  did  not  mean  to 


^■^"^-'"./■-•," 


S  of  these  officers,  while  he,  along  with  the 
iaysthe  Kev.  J.  H.  officer  and  a  private  were 
Macduff,  speaking  pas.-ing  one  of  the  gates  of 
3f  a  group  of  noble  Canton,  they  proposed,  ere 
officers  whom  he  they  parted,  as  there  was  no 
Q  camp  at  Alder-  ,  other  place  of  resort,  to 
re  he  lately  visited,  '  kneel  down  by  the  gate  and 
twn  conversion  in  engage  in  prayer.  They  did 
1  organized  in  that  so.  The  prater  was  an- 
lud  a  bible-class  |  swered;  it  was  blessed  lor 
:  common  soldiers.  ••  the  conversion  of  that  ser- 
e  leached  this  geant.  Not  long  after  he  was 
one  of  the  first  ^  laid,  I  fb.get  whether  by 
tell  gladdened  him  j  wound  or  disease,  on  his 
ft  of  a  large  Bible,  death  bed.  He  gathered  Ui6 
n  its  fly-leaf  the  comrades  aruund  him  to 
the  eighty  men  to    testify  to  them  of  the  grace 

had  taught,  and  i  of  Uod,  and  to  sh  'W  them 
h  saving  power,  how  a  Christian  could  die. 
1  as  it  is  in  Jesus."  ;  With  staniniering  ton^^ue  he 
the  name  of  one  o£  \  sang,  and  asked  ihem  to  join 

had   written   the  |  him  in  the  words  of  the  well 
ntry,  *'  Gunehome.*'  •  known  hymn — 
/ras  a  striking  one.  ; 
lat  of    sergeant,  a  '  xhere    is    a  fountain   filled   with 

Ling     man,    bold,  I        blood, 

I  moral  in  his  Con-  =      Drawn  from  ImmanueVa  vein*  •, 

«•  utterJjr  uDCon-  ,  "^ V^*""  plnnged  beneatti  tViaX 
God."     One  day,        j^^  ^ii  their  guilty  »iaiivii\ 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAB*8  TSBASimT. 


©ttr  giftt  to  Cferist. 

kUEN^  thU  passing  world  has  don< 
When  has  sunk  yon  glaring  su 
When  we  stand  with  Christ  in 
Looking  o'er  life's  finished  story, 
Then,  Lord,  shall  I  fully  know,  — 
Not  till  then — how  much  I  owe. 

"When  I  hear  the  wicked  call 
On  the  rocks  and  hills  to  fall, 
When  I  see  them  start  and  shrink 
On  the  fiery  deluge  brink. 
Then,  Lord,  shall  I  fully  know — 
Not  till  then— how  much  I  owe. 

Chosen  not  for  good  in  me, 
Waken'd  up  from  wrath  to  flee, 
j  Hidden  in  the  Saviour  s  side, 

j  By  the  Spirit  sanctified, 

I  Teach  me.  Lord,  on  earth  to  show, 

By  my  love,  how  much  I  owe. 

I  Oft  I  walk  beneath  the  cloud. 

Dark  as  midnight's  gloomy  shroud, 
But  when  fear  is  at  its  height, 
Jesus  comes,  and  all  is  light. 
Blessed  Jesus !  bid  me  show, 
Doubting  saints — how  much  I  owe. 

When  I  stand  before  the  throne, 
Dressed  in  beauty  not  my  own. 
When  1  see  Thee  as  Thou  art, 
I^ve  Thee  with  unsinning  heart. 
Then,  Lord,  shall  I  fully  know,— 
Not  till  then,  how  much  I  owe. 

When  the  praise  of  heaven  I  hear, 
Loud  as  thunders  to  the  ear; 
Loud  as  many  waters*  noise, 
Sweet  as  harp's  melodioua  voice, 
Then,  Lord,  shaft  I  f\iV\y  Vno^,— 
Xot  till  then. — ^how  much  1  ovie. 
84 


TBB  aiBUTH  lOHouK'a  tbuiust. 


CjT  ia  related  of  Mungo  i  all  alone  in  a  very  deeolnte 
^  FBrlE,thec«lebrated  apotgand  exposed  on  thehot  I 
1^  AiHcan  tmveUer,  landi  to  die.  Dreary  Indeed 
ton  one  occasion  ha  the  minute  wm.  Thecopper  | 
I  nigh  being  loit  in  the  aky  baraed  above  blm-^tiv'- 
''■n.  He bMdbeen robbed  j  boa»6le*»  waste  i*u  evn-if 
/  «»'  toiiBded,  and  wat  left  I  irhera  around  him.    W«  ^a^ 

. 6a 

'■ta-jto  a  — ~ 


THE  SABBATH  80HOLAB  S  THBA8URT 


scarce  so  much  strength  left 
as  that  he  could  crawl — and 
miles  and  miles  he  felt  he 
was  banished  from  any  one 
who  had  the  smallest  inter- 
est in  him,  or  who  would 
breathe  into  his  ear  the  word 
home.  Just  in  the  moment 
of  his  despair,  his  eye  fell  on 
a  delicate  desert  flower  grow- 
ing up  out  of  the  sands  beside 
him,  its  little  petals  spread 
out  within  their  sheath 
in  hues  most  exquisite ;  and 
as  now  and  again  a  little 
breath  blew,  the  beautiful 
fringed  thing  waved  and 
bent  on  its  stem,  as  if  out 
of  its  cup  it  would  scent  the 
air.  The  sight  of  that  hid- 
den flower  stirred  the  weary 
heart.  "What!"  cried  Park 
in  a  burst  of  hope,  **  is  there 
a  God  who  stoops  down  to 
frame  and  paint  that  fra-. 
gile  growth,  and  how  much 
more  will  He  not  care  ior 
me  1 "  So  restored  in  faith 
— talked  to  by  the  whisper 
of  the  desert  flower,  he  re- 
vived his  efibrts,  crept  to  a 


hut  near,  was  i 
kindness  by  s 
natives,  and  ul 
saved.  Was  i 
lesson,  dear  ch: 
Saviour,  in  1 
**  Consider  the 
field"?  You 
in  your  Testa 
the  passage,  an 
plies.  And  \i 
lesson  such  as, 
hour,  a  thouss 
fold  you  mighi 
if  you  turned  t 
or  to  your  left, 
and  found  Chri< 
all  gloriou8-«C 
beautiful— Chr! 
of  God— found 
may,  growing  ' 
I  may  so  speak 
gin  to  ask — "! 
Father  who  ha 
love  and  grace 
close  to  my  t 
Father  who  hi 
this  His  own  ^ 
Him  up  for  us 
He  nor,  with  R 
give  us  all  thin 


%  Pmb00  fmitl^  Shaking  «p  i\ 

DEEPLY  interest-  I  the  Church  of 
ing  letter  has  just  I  dras,  from  whi 
X)een  recelyed  ftom  \  m^  \%  ex\x%cv 
the  Missionary  In&tiiu'^ian,  o/\      "^^  «to\ 


THB  SABBATH  SGHOLAB's  TRBA8UBT. 


a  youog  man  vho 
e  forward  and  pro- 
bristianitj.  He  is  a 
of  high  caste.  He 
Q  up  and  put  awaj 
to  serve  the  living 
1  it  is  our  earnest 
lat  he  may  continue 
;  in  the  f;|ith  and 
firm  unto  the  end. 
:her  and  several  of 
;ioDS  have  come  to 
1  since  he  became  a 

Such  a  state  of 
bis  mother  was  in  I 
3  her  hair  and  be- 
or  him,  because  he 
inly  son,  and  now  by  | 
racing  Christianity 
as  dead  to  her  for 
he  besought  him  to 
1  go  with  her;  but 
d  not.  It  was  de- 
to  hear  him  giving 
ms  for  becoming  a 
a.  After  his  mother 
t  he  was  steadfast, 
ed  to  the  missionary, 
ses,  and  said,  *  He  is 
my  son  ;  he  is  your 
[  you  must  be  kind 
'    After  which  she 

has  not  since  re- 
to  see  him.  He  is 
n  the  Mission  pre- 
1  the  house  of  one  of 
chists." 

it    a    trial  I"     the 


youths  of  Scotland  will  say ; 
**to  be  compelled  either  to 
part  with  one's  parents  or  to 
part  with  Jesus."  True,  yet 
pray  and  pray  that  every 
one  attending  the  various 
mission  schools  in  heatlien 
India,  may,  like  this  convert, 
be  soon  brought  to  be  willing 
to  part  with  all  for  Christ. 
Nay,  that  also  side  by  side 
with  them  their  fathers  and 
mothers  may  yet  glory  in 
carrying  their  crossj  neces- 
sary, if  they  would  gain  the 
crown.  For  what  the  blessed 
Saviour  declares  in  Scotland 
He  proclaims  in  India — **  If 
any  man  (that  is,  any  one  of 
the  human  family,  man,  wo- 
man, or  child)  will  come 
after  me,  let  him  deny  him- 
self, and  take  up  his  cross 
and  follow  me.  For  he  that 
will  save  his  life  shall  lose 
it ;  but  he  that  will  lose  (or 
is  willing  to  lose)  his  life  for 
my  sake,  the  same  shall  save 
it."  And  how  rich  such  has 
become!  "  An  heir  of  God, 
and  a  joint-heir  with  Christ.*' 

R.F.  F. 


Y  dear  children,  in  I  animal  creation.  The  ^^  Xivt,^' 
holjr  writ  we  are    the  "Bee,**  the  ''"FavY*  <i^ 
often  commanded  /  the  air,"  ore  pointed,  out  Xo 


to   learn    of  the  /  us 


for  althouft\i  latm  o«a 

%7 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  TBBASUBT. 


the  gift  of  reason,  and  animals 
have  only  instinct^  which  is 
a  lower  kind  of  reason,  yet 
sometimes  the  humbler  fa- 
culties of  the  brute  creation 
are  so  well  exercised  as  to 
put  to  shame  the  negligence 
of  those  who  are  gifted  with 
an  immortal  6oul 

On  Saturday,  the  18  th  of 
May  in  this  year,  an  accident 
happened  to  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  dogs  of  modern 
times — Bob,  the  Firemen's 
Dog. 

He  was  going,  as  usual, 
with  the  engine  to  a  fire, 
when,  most  unfortunately, 
poor  dear  Bob  was  run  over 
by  the  engine,  and  killed. 
When  the  fire  bell  rang  at 
the  station  to  **  make  ready," 
Bob  always  started  up 
promptly  at  duty's  call  and 
ran  before  the  engine,  bark- 
ing to  clear  the  way,  and 
was  most  useful,  not  only  in 
preventing  obstructions,  but 
in  stimulating  the  men  by 
his  energy.  We  have  called 
him  **  JW*  dear  Bob,*  and 
we  repeat  the  phrase,  for 
human  beings  owe  a  deep 
debt  of  gratitude  to  this 
noble  animal. 

For  years  he  has  attended 

the  fires  of  the  metropolis, 

but  not  as  many  do,  to  look 

on  and  make  a  noise,  and 

obstruct  the  workers;  not 

as,  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 

some  do  to  plunder  and  make 

a  wicked  profit  out  of  one  of 

the  beaTiest  calamities ;  not 

as  others  do,  to  gratify  tbeir 

ejrcB  with  a  ffrand  and  awful 

88 


sight,  as  if  huma 
was  to  them  me 
exhibition  of  fire' 
for  none  of  these : 
Bob  frequent  th( 
went  as  a  help 
efficient  was  th 
afforded,  that  tl 
had  a  brass  collai 
him,  on  which 
graven — 

"  Stop  me  not,  but  o 
jog, 
I'm  Bob,  the  Lon( 
dog." 

At  the  time  oj 
explosion  in  the 
ster  Boad,  of  th 
maker*s  premis 
dread  filled  all  i 
nature  of  the  mate 
house  being  feari 
sive — Bob  rushed 
terred  by  the  noi 
great  gun,  the 
smoke,  and  whei 
out  he  brought  a 
his  mouth,  and  th 
from  a  cruel  deatl 

At  a  fire  in 
when  the  firemer 
that  all  the  inmat* 
of  the  burning  pre 
was  not  satisfied 
testimony :  he  i 
side-door  and  lis 
there,  by  loud  and 
barking,  attracted 
of  the  brigade.  TI 
sure,  from  BoVs 
that  some  one  ¥ 
passage,  and^  on 
open  the  door,  a 
found    Tveflitly     d 


TUS  BABBATH  SQHULAB'S  TRBASDRY. 


/ 


saved  this  child's  life.    Bob 
WM  also  an  orator.    "  Oh, 
Ijov  was   that?"    say    my 
young    readers :      '*  surely 
curatory  means  speaking,  and 
Bob  could  not  speak."    No, 
Bob  could  not  utter  words, 
though  he  could  make  him- 
self very  clearly  umlerstood, 
^iilch    is    more    than   all 
speakers  do.    There  was  a 
'leaning  and  a  purpose  in 
'^ i a  mo'ie  ut' expression,  and 
'^iat  J  am  afraid    is   mure 
^^an  can   be  said   of  many 
speakers :  those  who  talk  for 
^  diking  sake,  those  who  utter 
'oliy  and  nonsense,  and  those 
^  lio  abuse  their  gift  of  speech 
**y  using  bad,  or  rude,  or 
*-'**iael  words,  are  not  to  be 
'^^orupared    with    Bub,    who 
^**Jaployed  every  suund  that 
l^e    could  make    for    good 
He  could  all  but  speak," 
'^d  the  men,  who  loved  him ; 
^^id  more  than  speak  in  the 
^^ur  of  danger ;  for  his  loud, 
^*urp  bark  had  a  vast  deal 
^^  meaning  in  it.    But  Bob 
^as  an  orator  in  the  sense  of 
attending  public  meetings, 
tQd  giving    his  testimony, 
^t  the  annual  meeting  of 
the  i)ociety  for  the  Suppres- 
sion of  Cruelty  to  Animals 
which  was  held  in  i860,  and 
uQ  previous  occasions,  this 
l/fave  dog  went  through  a 
series  of  wonderful  perform- 
auces,  to  show  how  the  fire- 
engines  were  pumped,  and 
most  kindly  and  effectually 
would  he  give  hia  warning 


bark,  and,  in  his  way,  tell 
the  scenes  he  had  passed 
through.  Fine,  noble  crea- 
ture I  It  was  sad  that  a 
violent  death  should  have 
been  his  lot,  after  a  life  spent 
in  merciful  actions.  But  he 
died  at  his  work  and  doing 
his  duty. 

Dear  young  reader,  are 
you  as  docile  and  willing  to 
learn  as  Bob  must  have 
be.  n  ?  Do  you  try  to  use 
your  gifts  for  the  good  of 
others,  as  Bob  did  ?  Are 
you  prompt,  mercilul,  hon- 
est, and  brave,  as  Hob  ? 

Perhaps  some  of  you  may 
think  you  are  brave,  becau^^e  , 
you  can  return  blows  and  | 
can  fight.  All  that  is  not  i 
true  bravery.  The  really  ! 
brave  are  those  who  use 
God's  good  gift  of  strength 
to  succour  the  weak,  and  to 
save  irom  danger.  Bob  used 
his  strength  to  save  life,  and 
not,  as  fighters  do,  to  injure 
ur  to  take  it.  He  risked 
his  life  in  doing  good,  and 
died  at  last  in  his  duty. 

Not  to  many  men  is  per- 
mitted the  blessing  of  saving 
life.  Such  honour  and  hap- 
piness are  rare ;  but  all,  the 
very  youngest  child,  may 
make  life  sweeter  and  hap- 
pjer  to  all  by  loving  obe- 
dience and  generous  kind- 
ness. You  have  reason,  yuu 
have  speech:  see  that  yuu 
use  these  gifts  well :  do  not 
be  completely  outdone  b^'  a^ 
dog. — Tlie  Children  s  Fiieud. 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAR'S  TBBASVKT. 


(Snc&(  not  i\t  ^jitit. 


HAD  in  my  room  a 
beautiful  and  deli- 
cate flower.  Day 
after  day  I  cherished 
it,  watching  its  growth  till  I 
rejoiced  to  see  it  put  forth  a 
blossom.  One  morning  in 
my  hurry,  I  neglected  to 
water  it.  The  day  was 
sultry,  and  breathed  its  hoc 
breath  upon  the  neglected 
flower.  When  I  returned 
from  a  journey,  I  looked  upon 
my  little  favourite,  and  found 
it  withered  and  drooping.    I 


hastened  in  the  evei 
remedy  the  error 
morning,  but  in  vain, 
been  fatal,  and  no  cai 
arrest  the  work  of  <3 
tion.  It  was  scorcli 
dead.  Like  this  flo 
the  work  of  the  Spiril 
soul.  It  must  be  cor 
cherished,  or  it  will 
and  die. 

Remember      the 
should  you  ever  be  1 
to  neglect  the  dutiei 
closet. — S.S,  Messeng 


44 


|a&^  tt0  %ntnni/' 


50NT  say  so.  All 
have  some.  A 
gentleman,  lectur> 
ing  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  London,  said — 
"Everybody  has  influence, 
even  that  child,"  pointing  to 
a  Uttle  girl  in  her  father's 
arms.  "  That's  true  I  **  cried 
the  man.  At  the  close  he 
said  to  the  lecturer,  **  I  beg 
^your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  could 
not  help  speaking.  I  was  a 
drunkiurd  ;  but,  as  I  did  not 
like  to  go  to  the  public-house 
alone,  I  used  to  carry  this 
child.  As  I  approached  the 
public- house  one  night, 
hearing  a  great  noise  inside. 


she  said,  *  Don't  go,  \ 
'Hold  your  tongue, 

*  Please,   father,   doc 

*  Hold  your  tongue. 
Presently,  I  felt  a  I 
fall  on  my  cheek, 
not  go  a  step  further, 
turned  round  and  wen 
and  have  never  bee 
public-house    since, 
God  for  it.    I  am 
happy   man,    sir,  ai 
little  girl  has  done  it  i 
when  you  said  that  e 
had  influence,  I  coi 
help  saying,    'That' 
sir.'    All  have  inflae 
Rev,  Newman  Halh 


^~j  .rj-yj-. 


90 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUBT. 


®fe£  f  ark  of  Pair. 


,0  you  see  this  lock 
of  hair?"  said 
an   old  man  to 
me. 
Yes;  but  what  of  it?    It 

suppose,  the  curl  from 
head  of  a  dear  child  long 
B  gone  to  God." 
[t  is  not.      It  is  a  lock 
ij  own  hair ;   and  it  is 

nearly  seventy    years 
)  it  was  cut   from  this 
• 
But  why  do  you  prize  a 

of  your  own  hair  so 
1?" 

It  has  a  story  belonging 
,  and  a  strauge  one.    I 

it  thus  with  care,  be- 
3  it  speaks  to  me  more 
od,  and  of  His  special 

than  anything  else  I 
is. 

was  a  little  child  of 
years    old,   with   long 

locks,  which,  in  sun, 
in,  or  wind,  hung  down 
beeks  uncovered.  One 
Dy  father  went  into  the 

to  cut  up  a  log,  and  I 
with  him.  I  was  stand- 
little  way  behind  him, 
;her  at  his  side,  watch- 
ith  interest  the  strokes 
>  heavy  axe,  as  it  went 
d  came  down  upon  the 
,  sending  off  splinters 

every  stroke,    in  all 
ions.      Some    of   the 
ers  fell  at  my  feet,  and 
9rfy'  stooped  to  pick 
ip,      Jn  doing  so  I  / 


stumbled  for^^ard,  and  in  a 
moment  my  curly  head  lay 
upon  the  log.  I  had  fallen 
just  at  the  moment  when 
the  axe  was  coming  down 
with  all  its  force.  It  was  too 
late  to  stop  the  blow.  Dow n 
came  the  axe.  I  screamed, 
and  my  father  fell  to  the 
ground  in  terror.  He  could 
not  stay  the  stroke,  and,  in 
the  blindness  which  the 
sudden  horror  caused,  he 
thought  he  had  killed  his 
boy.  We  soon  recovered  ;  I 
from  my  fright  and  he  from 
his  terror.  He  caught  me 
in  his  arms,  and  looked  at 
me  from  head  to  foot,  to  find 
out  the  deadly  wound  which 
he  was  sure  he  had  inflicted. 
Not  a  drop  of  blood  nor  a 
scar  was  to  be  seen.  He 
knelt  upon  the  grass,  and 
gave  thanks  to  a  gracious 
God.  Having  done  so,  he 
took  up  his  axe,  and  found 
a  few  hairs  upon  its  edge. 
He  turned  to  the  log  he  had 
been  splitting,  and  there  was 
a  single  curl  of  his  boy's 
hair,  sharply  cut  through 
and  laid  upon  the  wood. 
How  great  the  escape !  It 
was  as  if  an  angel  had 
turned  aside  the  edge  at  the 
moment  when  itwasdescend- 
ing  on  my  head.  With  re- 
newed thanks  upon  V\\%  \\^% 
he  took  up  the  cwr\,aivd  ^«iv\» 
iiome  with  me  in  Viift  «rm%. 
"  That  lock  he  kept  a\\\u* 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  TBBA8DB 


days,  as  a  memorial  of  God's 
care  aud  love.  That  lock  he 
left  to  me  on  his  death-bed. 
I  keep  it  with  care.  It  tells 
ine  of  my  father's  God  and 
mine.  It  rebukes  unbelief 
flnd  alarm.  It  bids  me  trust 
him  for  ever.  I  have  had 
many  tokens  of  fatherly  love 
in  my  threescore  years  and 
ten,  but  somehow  this  speaks 
most  to  my  heart.  It  is  the 
oldest,  and  perhaps  the  most 
striking.  It  used  to  speak 
to  my  father's  heart ;  it  now 
speaks  to  mine." 

What  say  you,  my  dear 
young  readers  ?  Is  not  this 
an  instance  of  delivering 
mercy  on  the  part  of  our 
gracious  God.  A  nd  this  God 
is  the  same  kind  Being  who 
gave  you  life,  and  has  watch- 
ed over  and  cared  for  you 


until  now.  D< 
put  your  tri 
Look  over  yoi 
and  think  of  tb 
He  has  watchei 
delivered  you 
danger.  Whe 
your  parents 
would  die,  Hi 
your  life  and  r 
health  ;  and  in 
ways  has  He  si 
and  care.  Yei 
great,  for  He 
world  as  to  g 
beloved  Son  t< 
whosoever  beli 
might  not  pei 
everlasting  life 
love  him  with  a 
and  in  your  i 
devote  your 
service. — Chik 


i 


I 


Coming  ta  l^stis. 


lOTIIER,  what 
does  it  mean  to 
come  to  Jesus? 
1  cannot  see 
Him.  and  how  can  I  go  to 
Him?' 

"  You  cannot  see  Him,  but 
you  can  speak  to  Him,  you 
can  pray  to  Jesus.*' 

**  If  He  were  on  earth  as 

He  once  was,"  said  the  child, 

'*  there  is  no  trouble  that  I 

would  not  take  to  go  to  Him. 

I  would  set  off  at  once.    I 

would    travel  hundreds   of 

toUea.    I   would    push  my 

92 


way    through 

crowd,  and  fal 

Him  and  cry, 

me  a  heart  to 

I  heel'  but  nc 

go  to  Jesus  ?" 

**  Without  a 

you    can    cor 

Coming  to  Jest 

of  the  heart  af'i 

to  Him  as  th 

who  though  h 

Him,  cried  out 

Sou  o(  David 

on  m^V     X< 

\>e\.V^  otL  X\ 


ml 


THB  SABBATH  60HOLAR*8  TRBASDRT. 


*in  lived  when  He  lired  on 

the  earth.    They  often  had 

to  travel  very  far.     They 

suuietimes   could    not    get 

"ear  Him  for   the    crowd. 

^ut  you  may  have  Him  as 

oiuch  to  yourself  as  if  there 

*»ere  no  other  person   but 

jVoarjelf  in  the  world.    He 

j«  always  within  your  call. 

He  sees  you,  knows  all  you 

^eel,  and  hears  all  you  say. 


If  you  feel  a  desire  for  His 
forgiveness,  for  the  support 
of  His  friendship,  for  the 
comfort  of  His  love«  and 
pray,  *  Jesus,  save  me;  Jesus, 
help  nie;  Lord,  1  am  igno- 
rant, teach  me ;  my  heart  is 
hard,  soften  it ;  help  me  to 
love,  believe,  and  obey.  Save 
me  jfrom  sin,  and  tit  me  for 
heaven— this  is  coming  to 
Jesus.  Can  vou  not  do  this  ?** 


^V/^  'n   "S^'V 


fast  fines  ixm 


i^lmovf. 


N  autumn    1857,   I 
^    enjoyed  the  great 
1^    pleasure  of  hearing 
^'^t  late  Mr  Holloway  Hel- 
^'ioreaddress  a  large  mission- 
^''y  meeting  in  Coventry,  his 
'•ative  town,  as  I  understood. 
^^  gave  me  deep  gratification 
to  hear  him  speak  of  the 
'«l>DUr8   of  his    companion 
*"r  Ross,  whom  he  had  just 
'♦'ft  working  hard  at  Likat- 
W,  Mr  H.'s  old  station, 
^s  Well  as  in  superintending 
I   the  work  of  the  Lord  at  his 
j   uR^n  other  stations,  scattered 
/   over  a  very  extensive  dis- 
/   trict  of  Central  South  A  frica. 
'   Mr  HeImore*8  description  of 
the  varied    labours  of   the 
missionaries,  and  the  aucceaa 
that  had  accompanied  them, 
riretted  the  audience. 


JLETTBRS. 

Before  he  set  out  in  Julv 
1858, 1  had  many  kind  notes 
from    him.      He  expressed 
his  delight  at  the  prospect  of 
taking  a  box  to  Mr  Boss. 
"I  am  quite  sure,"  said  Mr 
Helmore,  "that  your  kind 
labours   for   the    Bechuana 
under  Mr   Rosses  care  will 
greatly  encourage  him,  and 
fill  the  hearts  of  his  people 
with  gratitude."     He  added, 
**  I  still  receive  very  interest- 
ing and  encouraging  reports 
in  reference  to  Likatlong  and 
the  other  Bechuana  towns 
under  Mr  Ross's  care. 

MB  HELMORB's  C*LL  TO  THE 
MAKOLOLOB. 

"You  will  pro\)ab\y YiBL-^ft 
learned    from     the    -puXAia 


THB  tiMBAia 


jouiaalB,  ihtt    Dr   LiTing- 
stone  has  accepted  a  Govern' 
ment  appoiotmeol,"  and  of 
coulee  is  no  longer  a 
■ionary,  but  "  returns  to  vhe 
Zambezi    in   a   short   time. 
The  Direclon  of  our  Society 
have  requested  me  to  con 
meiice  one  nf  the  new  mi 
aiona  which  is  to  be  estal 
lished    in   that    newly   di 
covered  oountrj."    Dr  Li' 
ingBtone,  nho  was  veW  ac 
quaioled  with  the  chief  of 
the  MakololuB,  Selieletu,  was 
to  be  atLiajanti,  their  town 
and  district,  before  Mr  Hel- 
moTo  and  bis  little  band  of 
misiionaries,    and     get    all 
ready  for  their  ifception. 


been  labonrin, 
find  that  there 
pect  o/canyii 
ike  verg  /lenrl 


ing. 


ind    cal 


"  Mr  Moflkt  has  returned 
from  his  visit  to  Moeele- 
katse,  the  chief  of  the  Miita- 


gratitnde. 
deed  great,  t 
queeticn  the 
shall  give  1 
heathen  for  H 
and  the  uttei 
the  earth  for  1 
With  referenc 

turn  t«  Engl  a 
a  good  opinioi 
seemed  to  be 
character  the 
think  yoa  nee 
any  box  jou 
prepnring  fa 
Several  caies 
from  the  miul 
we  have  sailei 


Mr  MoQkt  ha*  returned  to 
make  arrangements  for  tak- 
ing two  young  missionaries, 
and  I  hope  to  take  two  more 
beyond  the  Zamliezi  river, 
andaettlewith them  amongst  i 
the  Jllitkolota  and  other  ' 
tribet.  It  li  cheeiing  to 
the  miDda  of  tbotewhohavg 
94 


kingdom.— Yi 

sincere  r^ard 

(Signed)  E 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB's  TIISABUBT. 


I  80  may  a  noble 

'hristians  arise  and 

take  possession  of 

of  the  shadow  of 


death  in  the  name  of  the 
holy  and  life-giving  Jesns, 
the  King  of  Elings,  and  Lord 
of  Lords.  R.  F.  F. 


Ui  a  Pinatt  to  ^pr^/' 


idle  school  girl 
vaa  once  seriously 
ixpostulated  with, 
ibout  some  duties 
e  had  neglected, 
s  which  she  had 
formed.  I  cannot 
%m  sure  I  cannot ; 
3  any  more  than 
3Yer  have  a  minute 

I  am  always  at 
"his  girl  thought 
»  the  truth ;  but 
ot  know  the  true 
}f  the  word,  idle. 
tance,  if  6he  sat  at 
an  hour,  but  only 
she  was  well  able 
nplish  in  half- 
she  would  have 
t  very  unjust  and 
jd  she  been  accused 
i.  If  she  sat  with 
resting  on  her 
sr  elbows  on  the 
what  was  as  often 

leaning  over  the 
a  book  on  her  lap. 
It  it,  and  lazily 
from  it,  and  were 
and  counselled  to 
lustry,  she  would 
h  the  reproof  and 
>I,  however  kindly 
;   perhaps,  even 


hate  the  reprover.  And 
at  the  close  of  the  day  she 
would  wonder  how  it  was 
she  had  not  time  for  her 
duties,  whilst  her  com- 
panions got  through  theirs 
with  so  much  ease ;  but  al- 
ways ended  by  lulling  her 
conscience  with  the  idea  that 
their  abilities  were  so  much 
greater  than  hers,  and  too 
much  was  required  of  her. 
She  could  not  or  would  not 
see  that  it  is  quite  passible 
to  be  DOING  soMKTniNO,  and 
yet  to  be  vbry  idli.  For 
her  Bible  she  had  not  a 
minute  to  spare, — no  time 
to  be  neat,  no  time  for  her 
studies,  no  time  for  her 
health,  no  time  to  do  kind 
things  for  others.  She  was 
hardly  dealt  with.  Her 
heavenly  Father  had  heaped 
commands  upon  her,  and 
given  her  no  time  in  which 
to  obey  them.  Parents  and 
teachers  were  all  unkind,  or 
they  would  not  have  been  so 
unreasonable  in  their  de- 
mands. <*  I  am  sure  I  have 
not  a  minute  to  ftpaie "  nv«a 
iier  unyarying  Tep\^  to  «J\. 
who  sought  to  do  Yi^t  ^oodi, 
•— aS.  S>  Afessenyer. 


IBS  SABBATH  mholab's  nHum 

>  LITTLE  boy  (a  re-  I  The  remainde 
'     laeinn  — 


Havelock), 

an       rxcuraioii 

with  a  parly, 
Od  TelnrniDy 
home,  thehonea 
took   fiigbt  ill 


I'm  nfBTtT  lo  the  bonnd  of  lif^. 

Where  I  *hHll  leave  its  tite; 
I'm  neaier  laying  down  my  cross. 

Nearer  my  crown  lo  WMT. 

But  in  Ihe  drearv  space  betwem, 
Slow  winding  thro' the  niyht. 

Dolh  lie  Ihal  ilim  and  unknown  af 
Wblch  teada  at  Inst  to  iiebt. 


Moch  oeanT  Ouu  ^  tin^^ 


ms,  lift  iwt  teBonwii." 

hnndredi  of  I  lilent  uid  deiolkte  jou 
I  ago,  a  lonely  could  find  in  the  whole 
ieidwaife«d-  earth;  when  one  day  the 
In  tbe  desert  j  ttnoge  aightcaagblUt «]«, 
^ace  of  aU  of  a  bmh,  or  rathei  &  Aom 
"e  iKwt  ^  tree,  tall,  with  tluickte*^«» 
OT 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB's  TRBASUBT* 


A^d    branching    arms,    ap- 
parently on  fire,    yet    not 
consumed.    No  smoke  curled 
from  the  bright  flame— no 
crackling  of  the  tvigs  was 
heard,  as  is  the  case  in  a 
devouring  fire,  only  the  clear 
light  wavered  through  the 
tree,  and  wrapped  it  from 
head   to  foot  as  though  it 
dripped    with    the    purest 
sunshine.    Leavinghis  flock, 
the  shepherd  turned  aside  to 
see  it  closely ;  when  as  he 
came  near,  an  awful  voice 
spoke  to   him    out  of  the 
flame,  bidding  him  put  off 
the  sandals  off  his  feet,  lor 
the  spot  where  he  stood  was 
holy.    The  voice   was   the 
voice  of  God— the  flame  was 
God*8    own    presence— and 
the  shepherd  to  whom  He 
spoke,    as  you  know,   was 
Moses.    He,  by  the  bush  on 
fire,  willed  to  teach  Moses, 
how   soft,  yet  awful— how 
silent,    yet    glorious — how 
lovely,  yet  holy,  was   His 
presence  every  where,   but 
more  especially  amongst  His 
people,  and  in  each  believer's 
heart.     He  burned,  yet  not 
consumed. 

Dear  children,  have  you 

seen  that  great  sight?    Have 

fon  learned  that  great  lea- 

8on  ?  Yon  do  not  turn  aside 

now,  like  that  ancient  lUep- 

9S 


herd,  to  see  God  in 

bush  or  tree,  or  a 

with  the  bodily  eye. 

of  Him  indeed  you 

in  the  many  glorii 

earth  and  heaven  al 

but  where  God  is  i 

burning  yet  not  coi 

id  in  Christ  dwellii 

heart  by    faith — is 

Holy  Ghost  m»ikin( 

of  uur  bodies  and  oi 

There  it  is  the  fl^ii 

silently    but    awfv 

sets  the  whole  lif< 

In    the    heart    wli 

light  is  not,  all  is 

waste  as  the  wea 

over  which  Moses 

eye:    where  that 

there  is  the  bush  1 

splendour — the  bl( 

SUB    shining    thro 

through—the  fire 

Spirit   jmrging    o 

spot  of  darkness — x 

about  where  sucl: 

full  of  God  dwells, 

words—'*  Holiness 

Lordr    Who  of  y 

not  like  to  own  sue 

so  that  every  day  j 

go  into  some  sec 

and,  as  you  kneel  1 

cross,  say — 

"  JesoB  in  heaven,  J* 


rHK  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBASCRT. 


^t^ool  itui  in  Ittbia. 


following  letter 
is  written  last 
nuarj,  from 
>mba7,  hy  the 
n,  fbr  the  Bchool 
lis  former  parish 

a  Tery  beautiful 
;  six  miles  from 
med  Elephanta, 
wonderful  caves 
I  carved  out  in 
.raong  the  hills, 
ay  morning  I 
h  a  very  kind 
at  five  o*clock, 
juite  dark.  We 
iterside  at  dawn, 
re  pulled  across 

men  in  a  boat 
I.  We  arranged 
children  should 
ly  and  have  tea, 
t  back  about  ten 
.  in  time  for  this 
who  is  a  police 

to    go    to    his 

1  the  day  of  the 

hildren  were  all 

y,  had  breakfast 

i  six,   and   at  a 

ight  we  all  went 

just  as  we  used 

ubeth  before  the 

sang  the  same 

said  a  few  words 

111,  my  dear  chiU 

nember,  I  hope, 

Muother/     Out- 

ts  a  great  train 

rta,    with  blue 


wheels  and  white  bodies,  and 
red  coverings,  butnosprini^s. 
We  filled  about  twenty  of 
them,  and  jolted  away  as 
fast  as  the  bullocks  would 
go,  the  boys  and  girls  cheer- 
ing, just  like  }ou  used  to  do. 
Next  year,  perhaps,  we  bhall 
have  some  flags.  We  got  to 
the  waterside,  and  the  com- 
modore (the  chief  naval  offi- 
cer) had  sent  a  steamer,  and 
a  very  large  iron  boat,  with 
awnings  in  which  there  was 
room  for  us  all,  so  we  got  in 
and  sang  the  Morning  Hymn, 
and  then  Gcd  save  the  Queen, 
and  liule  Britannia,  to  the 
great  enjoyment  of  the 
natives  who  were  round  us. 
Well,  in  about  an  hour  and 
a  half  we  got  to  the  shore  ot 
the  beautiful  island;  but 
there  is  no  pier  like  the  pier  at 
I..ambeth,  so  the  boys  turnetl 
up  their  trousers,  and  took 
off  their  shoes,  and  jumped 
into  the  water  to  wade  on  to 
the  shore.  It  was  a  funny 
sight.  Black  men  came  to 
the  boat,  and  carried  the 
girls,  and  1  had  to  ride  on 
two  men's  shoulders,  who 
went  so  unevenly,  that  I 
nearly  tumbled  into  the 
water.  But  we  all  got  safe 
to  land,  and  went  up  quickly 
into  the  caves,  to  get  out  of 
the  sunshine,  for  the  tan  \% 
so  hot,  even  in  DecemVieT, 
that  fio  one  l\kea  to  ata^  ovix. 
in  it  longer  than  h«  c%u  \vcVb 


THB  BABBATH  BGHOLAB's  TBBABUBT. 


One  of  our  friends  had 
brought  an  accordion,  and 
the  music,  as  it  was  floating 
through  the  caves,  and 
echoed  from  side  to  side,  and 
from  roof  to  floor,  was  very 
beautiful.  We  got  into  a  little 
square  chamber,  and  sang  the 
Old  Hundredth  Psalm,  and 
delightful  it  was  to  hear  the 
dark-faced  children  singing 
the  praises  of  God  in  a 
heathen  temple — for  these 
caves  were  hewn  out  for  that 
purpose,  to  make  temples  for 
the  heathen  gods. 

"  Then  came  dinner  — 
currj,  rice,  and  pillan,  and 
beef  and  mutton,  and  fruits 
you  never  saw,  plantains  and 
pommellos,  which  I  cannot 
describe  now ;  but  we  fin« 
ished  up  with  what  you 
would  all  have  liked,  plum 
cake,  just  like  English  cake. 
All  the  afternoon  we  played 
in  the  shade,  very  much  as 
we  should  have  played  in  the 
f  eld  at  Lambeth  ;  and  then 
there  were  bats  and  balls, 
and  skipping-ropes,  and  hide- 
and-seek,  till  the  sun  went 
down,  and  we  strolled 
amongst  the  lovely  cactus 
plants,  and  cocoa-nuts,  and 


palm-trees.  The  i 
very  pretty  in  th 
the  setting  sun.  1 
tea,  and  we  sani 
grace,  'Be  prese: 
table.  Lord/  an 
down  upon  the  gra 
Then  we  had  so 
games,  and  sang  a  1 
and  then  the  full  mc 
in  all  her  glory,  mu 
er  than  it  does  ii 
Just  then  some  b 
were  set  fire  to  in 
and  had  a  wonder 
casting  deep  sha 
bright  lights  a 
Some  kind  people 
over  from  Bombi 
the  children  e^j* 
selves,  and  now,  a 
save  the  Queen' 
through  the  ca 
*  Praise  God  from 
blessings  flow,'  gi 
the  moonlight,  we 
as  the  children  hu 
their  hearts'  contf 
so,  about  11. 30,  *! 
again  after  a  glo] 
I  only  wish  all  th€ 
children  had  been 
and  all  the  Lambet 
too."— -Frowi  the  G 
sionary. 


MINISTER  of  the  I  of  distributing  a  f 


and     Testaments 
unhappy  country. 


Gospel,  who  resided 
for  a  time  at  Gib- 
raltar, made  aeve-  \  v^Nvet  v>^\\\%«^c«U 
ral  excursions  into  the  Span-  \  o^  'Romft  \^  w^  ^ 
ish  territory  for  the  putpoae  \  t\i^'pociT'^r«i%Vfi 
100 


THB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  TRBASUBT. 


dare  not  read  God's  word. 
At  one  time,  he  yisited  the 
honse  of  a  shoemaker,  with 
whom  he  held  very  pleasing 
conyersation.  He  found 
this  poor  man  of  an  in- 
quiring miod,  greatly  dis- 
satisfied with  the  existing 
state  of  things,  and  yet  un- 
able to  see  any  door  of  hope, 
or  any  prospect  of  remedy 
for  the  wrongs  and  woes  of 
his  country.  He  stated  that 
lie  and  a  number  of  his 
friends  were  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  together  every 
week,  and  discussing  public 
affkirs,  when  politics  were 
talked  oyer,  but  they  gener- 
ally left  off  as  they  began, 
such  discussions  seldom 
proving  very  pro6table. 

**  Why  do  you  not  get  the 
Bible  and  read  that  ?"  said 
the  minister. 

**Ahr*  replied  the  shoe- 
maker, **  I  wish  I  could  get 
it ;  but  the  priests  take  care 
we  poor  Spaniards  shall  not 
haye  the  Bible." 

"Well  now,"  said  the 
minister,  **Iknow  the  risk 
1  am  running,  and  thst  if 
the  priests  learn  that  I  am 
here  distributing  copies  of 
God*s  word,  1  shall  be  stilet- 
toed  before  I  get  back  to 
Gibraltar ;  but  I  think  I  can 
trust  you.  Would  you 
really  like  a  Bible  to  read  ?" 

**  There  is  nothing  1  should 
like  BO  much/'  was  the  re- 
ply?  ,       . 

A  copy  was  then  given  to 

him,  which  he  received  with 

erideai  delight,   tuid  with 


many  expressions  of  grati- 
tude. On  being,  asked  if  his 
friends  who  met  with  him 
during  the  week  would  also 
like  copies,  he  declared  that 
they  would  be  highly  prized 
and  diligently  r^ui,  and  he 
received  several  more  books 
for  their  use.  The  minister 
gave  him  a  few  parting 
words  of  exhortation,  told 
him  where  he  might  be 
found,  and,  after  distributiog 
the  remainder  of  his  little 
volumes,  reached  Gibraltar 
in  safety. 

Some  weeks  after  that,  the 
minister  sat  alone  in  his 
room,  having  told  the  ser- 
vant that  no  one  was  to  be 
admitted  to  see  him,  as  he 
was  engaged  in  study. 
During  the  day,  however,  a 
Spdmish  peasant,  dressed  in 
his  gay  holiday  attire,  called 
at  the  house  and  asked  to 
see  the  minister.  He  was 
told  he  could  not  be  seen,  as 
he  had  given  orders  that  he 
was  not  to  be  disturbed. 

''Oh,  but,"  said  the 
Spaniard,  <*  I  think  if  you 
tell  him  that  a  man  to  whom 
he  gave  a  Bible  has  come  a 
long  distance  to  see  him,  he 
will  not  deny  me." 

Struck  with  the  earnest- 
ness of  the  man,  the  servant 
at  length  consented  to  go 
with  a  message  to  his  mas- 
ter, and  said  that  a  person 
was  at  the  door  who  would 
not  be  denied.  The  peasant 
was  theiefoT^  «Yio^ini^'^VoL\A 
the  mimsteT'«  tqwh. 

«*  Don't  youTCiftftiB^iWC  "^^^ 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAR'B  TRBA8U: 


sir?"  was  the  exclamation 
of  the  Spaniard,  on  per- 
ceiving he  was  not  recog- 
nized,  "Don't  you  remember, 
sir,  calling  at  the  house  of  a 
shoemaker  a  few  weeks  ago, 
and  leaving  him  some 
Bibles?** 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  minis- 
ter; **but  I  really  did  not 
recognize  you  again  in  your 
smart  holiday  dress." 

The  man  then  began  to 
tell  what  joy  the  Bibles  had 
caused  to  himself  and  his 
friends,  and  that  now,  in^ 
stead  of  meeting  to  talk 
politics,  they  met  to  read 
the  word  of  God  together, 
and  that  in  the  volume  of 
truth  they  saw  the  true 
remedy  for  all  the  ills  that 
afflicted  their  country. 
Alter  the  heartfelt  expres- 
sion of  many  thanks,  the 
shoemaker  concluded  by  say- 
ing, "  As  a  mark  of  my 
gratitude  for  your  coming, 
at  the  risk  of  your  own  life, 
to  bring  me  the  precious 
Bible,  I  have  brought  you, 
sir,  a  pair  of  shoes,  which  I 
hope  you  will  accept.' 


u 


» 


Well,"  s 
minister,  **it 
you,  but  I  f 
intentions  m 
much  service 
will  probably 

"Oil,  yes, 
they  will,  if 
them.*' 

The  trial  y 
the  shoes  v 
excellent  fit 
man*s  being 
had  guessed 
curately,  he  n 
sir,  after  you 
you  had  to  ] 
sofc  clay,  so  ; 
and  from  yo 
took  the  sizi 
which  enable 
you  the  shoef 
yj)U  will  weal 
my  gratitude 
you  gave  me. 

Surely  the 
poor  Spain,  v 
that  her  sons 
word  of  Go< 
centuries  de 
light  and  trut 
Book  and  its  4 


%\i  €xQsU)s  %xti 


I  AVE    you   noticed 
that  tree    in    the 
yard  ?    When  very 
young  it  was  bent 
down  to  the  earth  and  im- 
bedded  there, '  It  then  shot. 
up  agaiiif  but  it  is  now  lor 
erer    d^brmed.      The   sun 
102 


may  shine,  th 
rain  may  fal 
will  never  be 
bad  habits,  c 
bad  things  to 
memb^T  this, 
andu«\LO^Q[' 


fitdilB'    ijisrst. 


Ba  iliBll  gin  Hli  AdwIb  Dhuys  OTet  thee,  lo  keep  tliee 
in^  thy  waja." 

KIE  vai  ■  Terr  '  dows,  lo  tbe;  did  not  rattle 
timid  liltle  girl,  anj  more,  and  Ihen  sitttnit 
Sh«  did  not  like  to  down  by  Utile  Aaaie't  bed, 
be  Irft  alone  in  a     she  said 


Tou  don't 


nniae.  or 
foel  afraid   of 

when  you  are 

•■  And  jet,  Annie,  your 
ber,  her  mammR  Father  in  heaven  can  take 
'  in  bed,  and  after  |  better  care  of  yun  than  I 
r  a  goodnight  kiaa,  t»n,  and  He  ia  with  you  all 
leaving  the  room,  the  time.  I  will  leHi:h  you 
'  heard  little  Annie  a  benutiru)  verse  Iroot  the 
aoftly,  "Mamma."  !  Bible,  tu  remember  when- 
ent  back  to  her  I  ever  you  feel  afraid:  'He 
'a  bedalde,  to  see  Bhall  give  Ilia  angela  charj^e 
le  wanted.  "  I)  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all 
"  said  liule  Annie,  I  thy  ways.  They  shall  beat 
afraid!  1  bear  '  thee  up  in  iheir  hands,  leat 
iige  noiaes,  and  the  I  thon  dash  thy  foot  against  a 
rattle  ao."  '  atone.'     When  you  »ere  out 

,   It    is    the    wind  |  walking  with  Robert  todHy, 
town  the  tjiininey  i  you  were  not  afraid,   were 
1    hear,"  said    her    you  ?" 
"and  it  Uuwa  the        "OhI    no,     mamms.      I 
too.    1  will  try  and    heard  you  tell  him  tn  tA'te 
am  wore  tightly."     '  care  of  nie.     And  ao^w  d\d.     \ 
ie  pat  aonie  little  ■  He   helped  me  orer  aW  •&«     ^ 
**■  '"  <**  *i(3-  '  gutters,  and  once,  "<i\win  "sa 
VOft 


THS  SABBATH  80HOI*AB'B  TaBAS0BT. 


came  to  a  place  where  some 
men  were  building  and  there 
were  a  great  many  large 
stones,  he  took  me  np  in  his 
arms,  and  carried  me  over 
them  all." 

"Well,  I  gaye  Robert 
charge  over  you,  and  you 
were  not  afraid  to  trust  him, 
and  lie  took  good  care  of  you. 
80  Grod  gives  His  angels 
charge  oyer  all  His  children, 
and  the  angels  will  not  let 
any  thing  hurt  you  any 
more  than  Robert  did  to-day. 
Once  there  was  a  very  good 
man,  who  dreamed  that  he 
was  in  heayen.  There  he 
saw  pictures  of  many  things 
which  had  happened  to  him 
during  his  life.  He  remem- 
bered them  as  soon  as  he 
saw  the  pictures.  Once  be 
had  fallen  from  his  horse, 
and  was  not  hurt  at  all, 
though  every  one  had  won- 
dered that  he  was  not  killed, 
in   his    dream    he    saw    a 


picture  of  it,  anc 
ture  there  wai 
holding  out  hi 
prevent  his  fal 
ground.  Then  ] 
that  God  had  se 
to  take  care  of 
after  he  awok< 
dream,  he  truste 
his  Heavenly  I 
than  ever.  And 
my  little  girl 
verse  once  mor 
may  remember  i 
she  lives." 

Annie  repeate 
times,  and  thei 
"  Now,  mamma, 
down-stairs.    I 
afraid  any  more. 

So  her  mamm 
and  went  awa^ 
Annie  closed  h 
went  to  slee 
**  God*s  angels  iv 
of  me." — From  \ 
Love, 


''%\t 


|0p  ed  0f 
ixm  i\m 


GOOD  missionary, 
when  travelling 
some  years  ago  in 
South  Africa,  called 
at  the  house  of  a  Dutch 
farmer,  and  asked  for  a 
night's  lodging.  This  re- 
quest was  granted,  and  he  at 
once  made  himself  at  home 
with  the  strangers.  After  a 
abort  time  the  farmer  aikd 


i\t  Cmm&s  i) 


his  wife  leame( 
visitor  was  a  m 
as  the  Dutch  ] 
respect  for  the  f< 
of  godliness,  it  \ 
to  have  a  relig 
with  the  famil 
the  farmer  agn 
pre^atauons  for 


IBB  SABBATH  ICHOLAR'S  TBBABUBT* 


/ 


which,  it  i0  feared,  was  not 
often  opened,  was  placed 
upon  the  top  of  a  long  table 
in  a  Tory  lar^  room,  with  a 
lighted  candle  by  which  to 
road  it.  Mr  Moffat,  the 
miiiionary,  took  his  seat 
before  tlie  Bible,  with  the 
fanner  on  his  right  hand  and 
tbe  fanner's  wife  on  his  left. 
Below  them,  on  both  sides  of 
tbe  tsble,  were  grown  up 
ions  and  daughters,  and 
other  members  of  the  family. 
All  aeemed  now  to  be 
ready,  and  everybody  ex- 
pected that  Mr  Moffkt  would 
begin ;  but  he  was  not  satis- 
fied. He  knew  that,  besides 
those  who  sat  before  him, 
there  were  many  Hottentot 
Iftboarers  on  the  farm,  who 
nem  heard  the  name  of 
JttQs,  and  to  whom  he  was 
resolved,  If  possible,  to 
Pf^ch  the  Gospel  of  salva- 
fioQ;  but  how  to  get  them 
into  the  room  he  did  not 
^Qite  know.  He  resolved, 
however,  to  try.  So,  instead 
of  beginning  to  read  the 
Bible,  he  leaned  forward, 
nod  seemed  as  if  he  was 
straining  his  eyes  to  see 
something  in  the  distant  and 
dark  parts  of  the  room. 

After  a  little,  the  farmer 
noticed  this  movement,  and 
asked  Mr  Moffat  what  he 
was   looking    for.     *«Ohl" 
said  the  missionary,  *<  I  was 
ooiy  looking  for  the  Hotten- 
tots."   In  a  moment  a  frown 
gathered  upon  the  farmer's 
iavtr:  Ma  lip  curled  as  if  to  j 
sAow  bia    contempt;    &ad  j 


then,  in  a  loud,  rough,  harsh 
tone,  he  said,  **  Hottentots 
is  it  you  want  ?  Hottentots ! 
Call  in  the  cbgsl  Call  in 
the  dogs  r 

This  would  have  perplexed 
some  men,  but  Mr  Moffat 
was  prepared  for  it;  as  he 
knew  well  that  many,  like 
this  farmer,  thought  that 
ministers  might  just  as  well 
presch  to  dogs  as  Hottentots. 
Without,  therefore,  using 
any  arguments  of  his  own, 
he  opened  the  Bible  at  the 
15  th  chapter  of  Matthew, 
and  read,  with  as  much  lorce 
and  solemnity  as  he  could, 
the  27th  verse —  **  Truth, 
Lord :  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the 
crumbs  which  tall  from  their 
master's  table  1"  He  then 
sat  silent  for  a  minute,  and 
looked  towards  the  farmer. 
But  as  the  rough  man  made 
no  motion,  Mr  Moffat  re- 
peated the  verse,  and,  while 
be  did  so,  fixed  his  dark  eye 
full  upon  his  host.  Still  the 
man  sat  silent,  and  did  not 
seem  to  be  moved.  A  third 
time,  therefore,  Mr  Moffat, 
turning  towards  him,  and 
'  looking  him  full  in  the  face, 
I  repeated  the  words,  **^e/  the 
.  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which 
fall  from  their  master^s 
table."  At  once  the  farmer 
roared  out,  **StopI  I  can 
stand  it  no  longer;"  and 
then  added,  *'Call  in  the 
Hottentots!  Call  in  the 
Hottentots  r 

Jn  a  short  time  X\ve  \eLT\^<& 
room  was  filled  w\\.Vi  «\icVv  sl 
congregation  aa  e-very  in\%- 

\^5 


TRB  BABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRBASURT. 


sionary  desires  to  see,  and 
such  as  Mr  Moffat  delighted 
to  address.  They  were  poor 
aod  negUcted,  and  ignorant 
and  sinful,  and  lost — just 
those  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  came  to  seek  and  to 
save.  It  was  a  strange  sight; 
ard  had  some  of  our  readers 
seen  it,  they  would  have 
hoth  smiled  and  wept  at 
what  they  saw.  Seated  upon 
the  floor  of  that  great  room, 
or  leaning  against  the  wall, 
these  poor  creatures  stared, 
and  grinned,  and  wondered. 
Never  before  had  they  been 
gathered  into  that  room  to 
be  addressed  as  immortal 
beings,  and  invited  to  enter 
the  way  to  heaven.  What 
Mr  Moffat  said  to  them  we 
cannot  tell  you,  more  than 
tills,  thaf  he  tried  to  explain, 
as  plainly  as  he  could,  what 
they  must  do  to  be  saved. 

On  the  fcllowing  morning 
the  missionary  went  on  his 
journey,  and  it  was  a  long 
time  before  he  had  occasion 
to  travel  that  road  again.  At 
length  duty  called  him  there; 
and  as  he  drew  near  to  the 


farm-house  where  I 
formerly  lodged,  he 
Hottentot  woman  w 
in  a  field  dose  by.  Su 
she  ceased  to  worl 
stood  looking  earneo 
wards  him.  Then  she 
down  hir  hoe,  ran 
spot  where  he  was, 
herself  upon  the  n 
clasped  his  knees,  anc 
to  weep  and  sob,  and, 
sametime,  to  expret 
thankfulness  and  jo; 
Moffat  was  surprises 
could  not  tell  what  c 
meant ;  and,  for  a  tic 
poor  woman  was  too 
excited  to  tell  hio; 
length  she  became 
calm,  and  then  she  ca 
his  remembrance  the 
he  had  held  in  her  n 
house,  and  told  hio 
she  and  her  husbanc 
amongst  the  ignoran 
tentots  to  whom  h< 
preached ;  that  the  v 
God  had  entered 
hearts;  and  that  fro 
day  they  had  been  w 
together  in  the  pf 
heaven. 


(^nt  irifk  mtouQ. 


ORKMEN    were 
recently     build - 
lug  a  large  brick 
tower,  which  was 
to  be  carried  up  very  high. 
jT/ie  architect  and  the  tore- 
man  both  chained  themasona 
106 


to  lay  each  brick  wj 
greatest  exactness,  es] 
the  first  courses,  whi( 
to  sustain  all  the  rest, 
ever,  \tL  Vsk^lw^  a  cot 


THB  SABBATH  tOHOLAR*B  TRBA8C7BT. 


ine.    The  work  went 
loat  its  being  noticed ; 
each  coarse  of  bricks 
pt  in  line  with  those 
'  laid,  the  tower  was  | 
t  up  exactly  straight,  I 
e  higher  they  bmlt,  I 
re  insecure  it  became. ; 
sy,  when  the  tower  , 
•en  carried  up  about  ; 
ietr  there  was  heard 
lendous  crash.      The 
g  had  fallen,  buryinfir 
m  in  the  ruins.     All 
lYious  work  was  lost ; 
iterials  wasted,  aud, 


worse  still,  valuable  lives 
were  sacrificed  ;~and  all 
from  one  brick  laid  wrong  at 
the  start.  The  workman  at 
fault  in  this  matter  little 
thought  how  much  mischief 
he  was  laying  for  the  future. 
Do  you  ever  think  what 
ruin  may  come  of  one  bad 
habit— one  brick  laid  wrong, 
while  you  are  now  building 
a  character  for  life?  He- 
member  in  youth  the  foun- 
dation is  laid.  See  that  it 
is  all  kept  straight. — Chris- 
tian Miscdlany, 


''%tt  fott  dlaiU  iairg?^^ 


INURING  the  French 
Revolution,  we  are 
told,  there  were 
many  shut  up  in 
risons.  A  certain 
r  of  these  prisoners 
.ed  out  to  execution 
day,  no  one  knowing 
turn  it  would  be  next, 
executioner  appeared. 
ft  state  they  must  have 
a,  as  they  heard  that 
nown  footfall  that 
ringing  death  to  one 
}r  of  them,  they  knew 
hichi  So  every  un- 
ted  child  is  this  day 
prison ;  and  every 
>me  are  thus  being  led 
o  execution— sent  into 
y;  Who  may  he 
O,  mjr  dear  young 
there  is  no  time  to 


put  off  I  I  have  seen  mnny 
little  graves.  I  know  few 
families  where  there  are 
little  children,  in  which — as 
in  Egypt — there  has  not  been 
one  dead.  I  have  seen  five 
fathers  in  church  in  one  day, 
each  clothed  in  deep  mourn- 
ing after  the  death  of  a  be- 
loved child.  Who  may  be 
next?  What  place  maybe 
vacant  next  year?  What 
little  boy  or  girl  may  be 
away  ?  And  where  O  where, 
the  precious,  the  immortal 
soul?  Will  you  not  oflier 
the  prayer  of  a  young  boy, 
**  Lord  1  make  me  quite, 
quite  ready  to  die,  in  case 
Jesus  comes  for  me  *\tv  «l 
hurry"?  It  wa^  'weVV  \o 
have  prayed  that  prayer, «tx\^ 
to  have  ffot  it  an&wexe^  ^siic 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAB*8  TBHABITBT. 


Jesus  did  come  for  him  in  a 
hurrj.  When  the  train  was 
rushing  along  at  a  fearful 
speed,  an  accident  occurred, 
and  in  an  instant,  soul  and 
body  were  parted,  —  and 
absent  fjrom  the  body,  he 
was,  so  far  as  man  could 
judge,  present  with  the 
Lord.  He  had  been  repeat- 
ing  to   his    mamma    that 


morning  the  Terse, 
not  thyself  of  tormc 
to-morrow    is    not 
only     to-day.      6o( 
Now — this  clcuf.    He 
to  pardon ;  will  no  o 
and  say,  *'0  God, 
mine  iniquity,  for  it : 
for   Jesus'  sake.      ( 
merciful  to  me,  a  si 
— Golden  Fountain, 


mork  in  i\(  'goxh 

fELAT  in  the  Lord  thou  doest  must  sue 
The  glory  His,  the  blessing  shall  1 
From  Uim  alike  both  will  and  act  p 
He  sows,  and  gives  the  increase  to  the  seed. 

He  prompts  and  perfects  every  good  design : 
Hands  on  thy  work,  thy  heart  on  Grod  alone, 
Thus  and  thus  only  is  a  good  work  done. 

Think  not  that  aught  is  in  God*s  eyes  so  small. 
That  He  will  not  the  needful  succour  lend ;    ^ 

His  ear  is  ever  open  to  thy  call, 

To  £^ve  thee  strength,  to  bless  and  prosper  all, 
And  bring  thy  labours  to  a  happy  end. 

Call  on  the  Lord  whatever  thou  dost  to  bless, 

And  He  will  crown  thy  efforts  with  success. 

He  makes  thy  heart  courageous,  firm,  and  boldf 
And  should  thy  labours  seem  to  press  too  sore, 
He  suffers  not  thy  courage  to  grow  cold. 
Smooths  on  thy  can-worn  brow  the  gathering  lit 
Arms  thee  with  patient  industry ;  nay,  more, 
Regards  the  smallest  kindness  shown  to  one 
Of  His  disciples,  as  to  Him  'twere  done. 

Lrpra  DomeaUctu 


108 


IB  WAHTtolhowjou  : 
»  bow  the  Bible  ft 
¥S  making  lu  wavinto  . 
^  Qui  he>rt  of  the  j 
kith  empire.  Let  ui 
t  Birai^  J  cllF  perched 
VtbeiBOaiitaliuofAiiii  j 
:     There  mre  bo  nil-  I 


ftstamtnt     . 

roidi,  or  tteBinboAti,  or 
coMhe*,  or  tnUn*  of  tnj  de- 
.  acriptioD  In  that  couotrj. 
I  You  mmt  clamber  orer  their 
■  ioQSlinMd«,<>nlione«taniL\« 
,  back,  oarrying  javc  «<><>&» 
and  luggage  la  •«ddl»-'tai4E^ 
Vei7  odd  tooUng  -<rm4M 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB'S  TBBAftUBT. 


you  go  through.  The  houses 
are  built  of  earth,  with  only 
two  rooms,  and  one  outside 
door.  One  room  is  for  the 
donkeys,  cows,  and  dogs, 
while  the  family  live  in  the 
other,  on  very  sociable  terms 
with  these  animals.  Almost 
every  Tillage  has  a  *' guest 
houpe,"  built  by  some  pious 
Turk  for  the  accommodation 
of  trarellers.  Here  you  will 
find  fire  to  warm  you,  and 
food  to  eat. 

SiTas  is  a  large  inn  and 
city,  about  eighteen  hours 
from  Tokat.    And  how  far 
is  eighteen  hours,  you  will 
ask?      Eighteen    hours   is 
about    fifty    miles,    which 
makes   comfortabto  trsTel- 
ling  about  thres   miles  an 
hour,  rather  slow  going  for  a 
Western.    It  has  fifty  thou« 
sand     inhabitants,    Tnrks^ 
Greeks,     and     ArmeniaDs. 
Within  two  or  three  years, 
Bible  Christianity  has  taken 
root  there.    And  the  Scrip- 
tures are  kept  publicly  for 
sale  in  four  diffbrent  parts  of 
the  city.    These  are  in  the 
Turkish    and    Greek    lan- 
guages.    An  agent  of  the 
American     Bible     Society, 
paid  a  visit  to  this  city  a  few 
months  ago,  and  held  a  Bible 
meeting  in  the  little  Mission 
chapel.     lu    the   afternoon 
two     of     the    Koozelbesh 
Koords,  from  a  Tillage  twelTe 
houn  distant,   called  upon 
him.  The  ELoords,  you  know, 
arts  mountain  men,  and  one 
of  the  fiercest  tribes  in  Asia. 
Oae  of  tfattm  was  the  son  of 

no 


a  sheik,  or  chief  mi 
Tillage.  They  sa 
wanted  to  become  ^ 
Christians. 

"Why  do  you 
change  your  religion 
the  agent. 

"  We  once  worsl 
cane  or  stafi^,**  th 
**  with  which  the  sb 
us  to  drlTO  away  i 
We  used  to  meet 
week  to  recelTc  this 
then  we  confessed 
and  yearly  ofi^ered  a 
of  sheep  to  our  car 
no  longer  belieTe  ' 
save  us.  A  kitab 
book)  '*  taught  usb 
*•  Where  did  you 
book?"  asked  the  i 
ary. 

**  We  don't  know 
came  fh)m,"  they  ai 
"but  it  teaches 
Christ  Is  alive^  and  1 
prophets  axe  dei 
teaches  us  to  Ic 
enemiei^  and  to  | 
them.  It  is  ten  yea 
we  began  to  lear 
truths." 

"What  is   the  i 
the  book  ?  " 

"Wecallit  *boyi 
(book  of  command 
said.  *'Akh(]jah*'( 
*'  reads  to  us  from  tl 
the  sheik  explains 
then  we  pray  to  God 
Christ  as  the  book  t 
Then  the  missioni 
them  he  called  it 
\.\\Q    Gospel    of    Ss 

\Mok.    \2Ek!nft  ^«i% 


THB  ftABBATH  •OHOLAX'ft  TftBAlUBT. 


world.  Tliey  wished  Tery 
much  to  haye  a  miMiomury 
come  and  coaifort  and  te^ch 
them,  for  the  savage  Koordt 
were  verjr  angry  with  them 
for  loving  the  book.  And 
they  often  beat  and  robbed 
them  of  their  flocks  because 
tliej  would  not  worship  as 
tliejr  used  to  do.  They  also 
said  there  were  hundreds 
more  ready  to  receive  the 
gospet,  but  for  fear  of  their 
enemies. 

The  miMiooary  said  they 
should  keep  up  a  good  heart, 
t'fT  Qod  would  stand  by 
those  who  put  their  trust  in 
Uim.    "*  Go  back,"  said  the 


missionary,  ^  to  your  native 
village,  and  boldly  preach 
the  gospel  of  love  and  salva- 
tion to  your  cruel  per- 
>  secutors." 

^-Insha,  God  be  praised, 
they  became  reformed." 
!      Such  was  the  influence  of 
I  a  stray  copy  of  the  Testa- 
.  ment,  which  found  its  soli- 
tary way  through  tlie  intri- 
I  cate   passes  of  Asia  Minor, 
teaching  the  Koords  the  folly 
of  their  worship,  and  leading 
them  to  ^  the  Lamb  of  God 
who   taketh   away   the   sin 
of   the  world  "—JLvangeltcal 
Mogaxine, 


fmsfeing  feitl^tn  '%m\  d  a  Curt. 

We  are  indebted  again  to  the  Bev.  Mr  Fisher  of  Fliuk  for  the  follo>viug  :- 


£  Right  Honour-  ! 
able  Lord  Kin- 
naird,  who  has  long 
taken  a  warm  interest  in  the 
labours,  the  perils,  and  suc- 
cesses of  our  fHend  Mr 
Boss,  a  short  time  ago  kindly 
honoured  me  with  a  letter  of 
which  I  give  an  extract : — 

**I  have  received,"  says 
his  Lordship,  ^'an  interest- 
ing letter  fVom  Dr  Living- 
stone, in  which  he  tells  me 


medicine,  a  certain  cure  for 
the  fever,  which  waggon  he 
had  left  there  seven  years 
before."  Is  it  not  singular  I 

DB  LIVINGSTONE   WRITES*. — 

"  A  party  of  English  mis- 
sionaries perished,  as  we 
suppose,  by  fever,  at  Lin* 
yanti,  at  the  very  time  we 
were  on  our  way  up,  and 
were  curing  the  fever  so 
quickly  that  no  more  than 
one  or  two  days  were  lost 


that  he  found  the  graves  of    a^er^the  operation  of  our 

*k.  »;..f^»«..^«  «ri,^r«  a^.  ■  remedy.    Severe  attaicV%  va. 
the  missjoii««^  whom  Mr,  ^^^  ^^^.  ^^^  ^^ 

/  JK«  ineaiian^doee  to  bis    ally  without  loaa  ot  at^ugetu 
^Won,  la  which  be  bad  a  I  The  remedy  was  ftT»\  tx«L 

1\\ 


THB  SABBATH  tOHOLAB'S  TBBABUKT. 


on  my  own  children  and  a 
party  of  the  English  at  the 
Lake  Ngami  in  1850,  and  I 
have  never  failed  in  a  single 
case  since.  I  have  said  little 
about  it,  as  it  would  appear 
quackish,  which,  you  know, 
we  doctors  have  a  mortal 
aversion  to ;  but  the  loss  at 
Linyanti  makes  me  anxious 
to  let  it  be  known.  When  1 
went  over  to  Linyanti  to 
search  for  medicine  for  the 
disease  of  Sekeletu,  the  chief 
of  the  Makololos,  I  found 
the  material  for  the  compo- 
.  sition  of  the  fever-powder  in 
my  waggon,  which  has  been 
guarded  to  me  during  the 
last  seven  years,  and  that 
within  a  few  hundred  yards 
of  the  missionaries'  graves. 
It  is  mentioned  near  the  end 
of  *  the  Missionary  Travels* — 
[Dr  Livingstone's  book]  I 
now  mention  it  to  every  one 
likely  to  try  it,  and  though 
you  may  never  need  it,  pos- 
sibly at  some  future  time 
your, friends  may."* 

8ALVATI01?  FOR  TOUR  SOULS 
IS  NEAR. 

How  Strange  I  how  doubly 
Fad  it  is  to  reflect  that  a 

•  "  Fever  -  Powder,  —  Besei    of 
jalap  and  calomel,  of  each  eight 
graiuB;  rhnharb  and  quinine,  of 
each  four  grains ;  mix  well  when 
required  with  spirit  of  cardamoms 
— dose  from  ten  to  twenty  grains. 
After  five  or   six   honrs    quinine 
completes  the  cure.    This  for  per- 
Bona  of  robust  strength.    All  the 
violent  sj^nptoms  ate  relieved  in 
Hre  or  six  hoars ;  if  not,  a  deaaert 
apoon  ct  salts  promoteB  t3ie  opexa- 
tlon  of  the  pflls.** 
112 


cure  was  so  neai 
and  yet  to  perish ! 
hitherto  unfiuling 
was  within  an  eas; 
of  the  heroic  miss 
Mr  and  Mrs  Heh 
Price  and  three 
children,  and  thf 
guides — and  still 
of  the  malady.  J 
but  because  thc;^ 
know  of  the  medi< 
there;  and  altho 
had  been  aware  ol 
ness  to  them,  1 
altogether  ignon 
power  to  cure ;  - 
Hagar  and  her  soi 
in  the  wildeme 
have  perished  < 
though  a  well  was 
had  not  the  ang 
appeared.  This 
other  than  the  I 
Christ  Himself:  I 
the  anxious  mothc 
behold  yonder  gi 
and  there  she  findi 
abundance.  (i%c 
Gen.  xxi.  15-19.) 
dear  young  friends 
the  word  of  God  w 
reach,  nay,  in  y 
hands,  telling  yc 
medicine  —  *  the 
blood  of  Christ '-»i 
not  fail  to  e^ixe 

B\xt  yoxiT  cy%%  ^ 


oad  to  tM,  and  jrtmr 
to  undentand  Iti 
r.  If  it  would  be  of 
yon.  Plead  vith 
«  wnd  ;on  Hit  Holj 
to  give  jna  light,  io 
Ml  nuq  bt  ahb  to  m 
'bU  of  wlTBtion,'  the 
lin  ei  liriug  water.' 
tf,  diiok,  and  applj, 
HIT  Hill  will  be  re- 
!  and  atreDgthennl, 
ade  petfectljr  whole. 


and  ynu  M<iA  Cm  far  «Mr, 
with  JesDB  and  Hit  holj 
angels,  and  all  the  rantomed, 
among  whom  will  be  thoae 
derated  men  and  women  and 
cbildien  who,  it  hoire  or 
abroad,  were  glan/mg  in  no- 
thing  mve  in  the  crtnio/C/irist, 
while  tbeii  bodiaa  were  by 
ira  grie*ou«  weight  being 
brokeii,  cruihed,  and  agon- 
iied,  even  unto  death. 


%  itittir's  ■gaU. 


The  infkat  adraoeea   to 
I  yeara   of  cbitdhood.      The 
moUieriattill 


prayer,  ---— 

ily,  eameatly,  that  He 
the  «onrce  of  all  parity 
'eaerre  that  which  He 
T«n  her  in  perfect  in- 
w,  ftnd  permit  neither 
,  nor  crime,  nor  fbllj' 
M  luin  on  tbe  brigbt- 
tb   wblcb    tbe    baa 


s::^  tales  of  child- 

iih  joy  or  «orrow. 

The  child  adTMicea  to 
manhood,  and  goei  oat  Into 
the  world  to  enga^  in  the 
dutleioflife.  Themuema-V 
Tolce  no  longer  wniadi  \tt\i\» 
flir,  hot  the  mother"*  \a'«  V» 
[he  aame,  and,  h 


ram  f abbath  fOHoiiAB's 


often  looks  back  to  the  time 
when  she  took  him  by  the 
hand,  and  bade  him  good 
bjre,  and  he  imagines  he 
still  hears  the  fenrent  ^  Qod 
bless  yon,  my  son,"  trem- 
bling on  her  lips,  he  lieels 
that  nothing  on  earth  is 
more  lasting  than  a  mother's 
loTe.  Many  of  the  dear 
children  who  read  this  are 
eqjojring   «  mother's   loye. 


Oh,  then,  be  kind  s 
ent,  and  do  all  yc 
make  her  path  tbr 
a  pleasant  one ! 


i( 


Remember  thy 
she  will  pray 
As   long  KB  God 
breath; 
With  accents  of  Un* 
eheer  her  loae  w 
E'en  to   the   dart 
death.** 


^6  f afe  of  |iinil>n^ss. 


;T  has  been  said  that 
a  kind  word  doeth 
good  like  a  medi- 
cine, and  there 
have  been  instances  in  which 
a  kind  hok  has  done  good. 

A  short  time  since,  a 
little  boy  was  walking  with 
his  nnrse,  when  they  passed 
an  old  man  playing  a  harp. 
The  child  looked  at  the  man, 
and  smiled  as  he  passed ;  and 
the  man  said,  "  Stop,  dear 
child;  I  will  play  you  a 
tone.*  When  he  had  done,  . 
the  child,  who  is  fbod    of  I 


music,  smiled  rer} 
and  tried  in  his  chi 
to  thank  the  poor  i 
The  poor  old  i 
away  saying,  **T1 
smile,  and  that  plea 
have  done  me  m 
than  all  the  mone 
taken  to-day.**  L< 
read  this  go  and  i 
dear  child  did.  If 
not  help  the  poc 
kindly  to  them,  ant 
see  that  the  law  of 
dwells  upon  your  1 


i  Cfeilb's  fnxil 


a  public  school  in    doors,  and  one  of  the 

New  York,  a  short    a  young  lady,  jam 

time  since,  on  an    the  window.      An 

alarm   of  fire,   a  <  hundreds  of  child 

terrible  panic  ensued,  and  \  whom   the    build 

iDMDjr  of  the  scholars  were  \  ccovEded     ^s*     < 

ii^ared  by  nuhiog  to  the  \  axnon&\^<i\)«iX^^ 

114 


THM  SABBAXB  •OHOXiAK'B  TBBAftUmT. 


Juough  all  the  fright- 
eney  maintained  com- 
).  The  colour,  indeed, 
k  her  cheek.  Her  lip 
red,  the  tears  stood  in 
^es;  but  she  did  not 
After  order  had  been 
ed,  and  all  her  com- 
18  had  been  brought 
to  their  places,  the 
on  was  asked  her  how 
me  to  sit  so  still,  when 
x>dy  else  was  in  such 
It  **  My  fiither,"  said 
IB  a  fireman,  and  he 
ne,  if  there   was  an 


alarm  of  fire  in  the  school,  I 
must  just  sit  still." 

Onr  God  ia  the  Father  of  all, 
The  Father  of  mercies  and  lore ; 
He  pities  the  works  of  His  hand, 
Though  He  reigns  in  the  heavens 
above. 

Not  a  sparrow  can  fall  to  the  groand 
AVithout  His  permissiou  or  care ; 
From    such   a   kind   Fattier   and 

Friend, 
Oh!  what  have  HIh   children   U* 

fear? 

We  have  nothing  to  fear  bnt  from 

sin: 
It  is  sin  that  displeases  onr  God  ; 
When  we  do  not  obey  his  command. 
Like  a  father,  He  uses  the  rod. 


%n  6jfamjk  for  Wis. 


PERHAPS    no    one 

who  reads  this  can 

recollect  when  he 

or  she  first  heard 

the  Gospel.    In   this 

land    we   are   bom 

t    its    blessings.      In 

m  countries,  millions 

>wn  men  and  women 

0  this  day  nerer  h^ud 
od  news.  But  many 
heard  it ;  and,  if  we 
t  take  care,  some  of 
irill  put  us  to  sliame. 

Because,  in  proper- 
i  their  means,  they  do 
to  spread  the  Gospel, 

1  they  haye  only  lately 
it,  than  we  do,  who 
leard  it  from  our  birth. 

Gospel  reached  the 
a  country,  in  Africa, 
ten  jy^ears  ago.  How, 
n  wMajr  Jjondreds  of 
CtrisUAoa,    Some  of . 


these  hare  been  proved  by 
fierce  persecution  and  cruel 
torture.   <  nbers  haye  proved 
themselves,  by  their  anxiety 
for  the  souls  of  their  friends 
and  countrymen.      For  in- 
stance; a  Missionary  meet- 
ing was  lately  held  in  Abbeo- 
kuta.     An  African  clergy- 
man, once  a  slave,  took  the 
chair,  and  there  was  not  one 
white   man    present.       Mr 
King  (the  chairman)  made  a 
I  speech,  and  then  some  of  the 
'  people    spoke.      One   said, 
'  "  When  we  die,    what   we 
'  leave  behind  us  will  be  for 
others.     Hut  what  we  give 
now  to  Jesus  will  be  O'irs  for 
ever.    Therefore,  let  us  show 
our  love  to  Jesus  accurding 
to  the  means  each  si\\t  \fQ^ 
sefset."    Another,  who  YaiQl 
been   a  very    wicked  man*. 
Mid,  ^  Wm  there  any  aoX^a^ 

U5 


TBB  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'B  TBBAfUBT. 


as  I  was?  But  see  what 
Christ,  by  hit  Gospel,  has 
wrought  in  me  I  Let  as 
show  our  thankfulness  to 
(}od  for  bis  mercy."  A  third 
made  this  odd  remark,  **  I 
am  quite  willing  to  put  my- 
self in  pawn,  if  it  is  needful, 
to  serve  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  for  what  He  has  done 
for  me."  When  a  Yoruban 
wants  money,  and  can't  get 
it  in  any  other  way,  he  pled- 
ges or  pawns  himself,  for  a 
time,  to  some  one  who  will 
lend  the  money  he  wants. 
In  other  words,  he  becomes 
the  domestic  slave,  as  to 
part  of  his  time,  of  the  lender. 
He  is  obliged  to  labour  for 
him^  instead  of  for  himself; 
this  labour  being  the  interest 
the  lender  receives  for  his 
money.  He  must  continue 
to  work  in  this  way  until  the 
money  is  repaid.  2So  you 
see  what  the  speaker  was 
willing  to  do  for  Christ. 
Like  David,  he  was  not  con- 
tent to  offer  to  God  only  that 
which  would  cost  him  noth- 
ing. 

And  it  was  not  all  talk. 
The  collection  was  made 
about  a  fortnight  after  the 
meeting.  So  eager  were  the 
people  to  give,  that  they 
crowded  to  the  table   like 


beet  when  they  iwam 
had  had  six  hands,"  i 
Xing,  *<1  could  not  h 
their  names  dowi 
enough."    They  cri« 

"  Pi  ornko  mi  sHIe 

Fi  ornko  mi  i^e 

(Pot  my  name  dew; 

Pat  my  xutme  down 

Some  of  the  tcho 
dren  were  not  behi 
little  girl  came  up  ai 

**PUT  MT  NAHB  DOl 
THIKTT    STRIHOS;"    1 

Strings  of  the  littlf 
called  cowries,  each 
containing  forty  c 
worth  a  penny.  M 
might  well  be  astonii 
he  was;  so  he  told  he 
of  no  use  putting  he 
down  for  more  tii 
could  pay.  She  stil 
ever,  persisted.  *'  1 1 
I  will  pay  it."  Th< 
collection  amountc 
English  money,  to  tw^ 
pounds!  «*This,"  as 
King,  *Ms  what  oc 
converts  have  done.  ' 
there  were  some  wl 
out  of  their  abundai 
many  cheerfully  gavi 
Lord,  as  the  poor  wi 
the  gospel,  nearly  i 
possessed."  This  i 
again  an  bxamplb  ] 
— Missionary  Token, 


Christ  in  il^e  ^torm. 


116 


N  E    dark    stormy  I  near  the  coast  of 
night  we  were  to«-  \  A«  \  \a.y  oxi  xo^  Vqw 
tin^    in    a  rude  \  the  Y^oWAmol  ^ib\s 
little  BatiTe  boat,  \  taw  \Yi«  t^  ^m^« 


TBM  SABBJLTH  ■OHOLAX'S  TKBASUBT. 


ihroagh  the  thatched 

ig  and  heard  the  rapid 

of  thunder,  while  the 

"as  pouring  in  on  all 

and  onr  ^Mt  toesing 

hobble  on  the  angry 

I  oonld  not  but  think 

danger,  for  I  knew 

the   natlTO    boatmen 

timid    and  ignorant, 

[lat  many  snch  little 

»  go  down  every  year 

t  coast. 

nbling  and  afraid,  I 
mj  head  to  eatoh  the 
of  my  companion  as 
[uired  for  the  master 
boat  *«He  is  in  the 
'  part  of  the  ship, 
,"  was  the  reply, 
le  did  the  rude  heath- 
0  uttered  these  simple 
know  how  they  made 
il  thrill.  In  a  moment 
carried  bsck  to  that 
when  Jesus,  perhaps 
It  such  a  rude  little 
s  ours,  lay  tossing  on 
)rmy  lake  of  Gennesa- 
NeTer  did  I  so  realize 
or  blessed  SaTiour  was 
a  man,  a  suffering 
I,  and  one  with  ns  in 

fh>m  home  and  kin- 
weak,  helpless,  and 
fear,  for  a  moment  I 


had  forgotten  that  Jesns  was 
jnst  as  near  to  us  as  He  was 
to  those  fearing  disciples, 
and  that  He  could  as  easily 
say  to  the  foaming  billows 
«« Peace  be  stiH,"  as  He  did 
on  that  night  when  they 
cried,  ^'  Master,  carest  thou 
not  that  we  perish  ?" 

My  fears  were  gone.  I 
felt  that  Jesus  was  near, 
that  I  could  almost  put  mv 
hand  in  His,  and  hear  His 
voice,  **  It  is  I,  be  not  afraid.*' 
Often  since  then,  in  hours  of 
darkness  and  trial,  hare  I 
liyed  over  the  night,  and 
been  comfbrted  by  the  same 
sweet  thoughts. 

Afflicted,  sorrowing  child 
of  God,  forget  not  Him  who 
was  a  man  of  sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief.  Do 
heavy  burdens  bear  you 
down?  fear  not  to  carry 
them  all  to  Jesus.  None 
are  too  heavy  fbr  Him  to 
bear,  none  so  small  to  be  be- 
neath His  notice.  Are  we 
poor?  He  is  rich.  Are  we 
weak?  He  is  strong.  Are 
we  sinful  and  unworthy? 
He  is  righteous  and  infin- 
itely worthy.  If  we  are 
Chri8t*s  then  He  is  ours,  and 
in  Him  we  are  complete. 


^  MowhtxM  %misex  to  f rager. 

F   such   a   thing  as  J  human  experience,  we  %V\\\ 
direet     immediate  /  ought  to  have  the  iaVtVi  wi^ 
antwer    to    prayer  j  obedience  to  pray  on,  \>fe- 

were   anknown   in  /  cause  it    is   a  dW\ue  cotft- 

\\1 


THB  ftABBATB  flGBOLAB'f  TBBAftUXr. 


mand — ^Pray  without  ceas- 
ing." *^  Praying  alway  with 
aU  prayer." 

U  would  be  a  sad  thing 
for  many  of  us  if  soooe  of 
<mr  prayers  were  answered; 
for  we  often  know  not  how 
to  pray,  or  what  to  pray 
for.  An  answer  to  some  of 
our  selfish,  impatient,  rash 
|irayers,  would  be  **  answer- 
ing a  fool  according  to  his 
foUy."  We  need  the  help 
and  guidance  of  tlie  Holy 
Spirit  to  *'lesd  us  into  all 
truth,  and  to  give  us  the 
spirit  of  prayer,  and  the 
grsce  of  supp'.ication."  The 
Urst  workings  of  that 
Divine  Monitor  is  ever  to 
teach  us  in  all  things  to  ssy 
in  the  words  of  Jesus,  *'  Not 
my  will,  but  Thine  be  done.'* 

But  He  who  knows  our 
feebleness,  and  condescends 
to  our  infirmities,  gives 
many  manifest  and  wonder- 
ful encouragements  to  His 
]>eople  to  pray,  by  sending 
direct  answers  to  prayer. 

During  the  dreadful  siege 
of  Gibraltar,  when  General 
Klliott  made  such  a  memor- 


able defence^  **«n  ofi 
walking  one  day  in 
den,  which  was  a  rei 
tifiU  one,  and  iiad  > 
great  service  to  the  \ 
providing  them  vit 
fruits  and  vegetab 
thought,  with  som 
soon  everything  in 
perish  for  want  of 
He  was  a  remarka 
vout  man,  and  bega 
ing  for  rain.  Bode 
shell  from  the  enei 
over  his  head,  and  sti 
rock  at  a  few  yards*  i 
Instantly  a  plentiful 
of  water  gushed  fbiil 
sufficed  for  the  entii 
son,  and  never  failed 
In  this  remarkal 
we  have  not  only  a  i 
plication  of  the  woi 
thou  of  little  faith, 
for  didst  thou  doufa 
it  was  an  instance  he 
the  horrors  of  war,  i 
often  makes  **the  i 
man  to  praise  Him.' 

*Froin  AatoUognplu 
Cornelia  Knight,  Lady-C 
to  the  Princefls  Chailottf 
YoL  I.  page  68. 


^\t  liiHfn  ^xeuuxL 


^HKRE  died  recently 
in  tlie  great  city  of 
Lyons,  in  France, 
a  poor  widow,  who 
had  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
become  possessed  of  a  great 
treasure    in    her   old   age, 
Her  parents  were  very  poor 
US 


and  her  husband  i 
able  by  working  bar 
their  daily  bread, 
never  able  to  put  i 
by  for  a  rainy  ds 
.  w\i«ii  1X!U&  oVi  Tnan  di 


THB  BABBATH  MROLAX'ft  TRBA8I7BT. 


detolate  dwelling  m  an 
armed  man.  She  sold  near- 
\j  eTerjthing  the  had,  and 
lemoved  to  a  miaeraUe  gar- 
rei  to  ipend  the  remainder 
of  her  days.  She  wai  not 
entirely  without  lome  feeling 
of  dependence  npon  the  God 
of  the  fktherlest  and  the 
vidow;  bat  she  was  a  poor 
Catholic,  and  knew  much 
more  about  saintt  and 
guurdian  angeU  than  of 
Jems  Chrfat,  and  what  He 
hu  done  for  us. 

One  day  as  she  was  sit- 
tiag  alone  in  her  comlbrtlesB, 
half-empty  room,  it  struck 
btr  that  there  was  a  singu- 
lar outline  on  the  beams  of 
the  wall.     The  walls   had 
been  whitewashed,  but  she 
thought  it  looked  as  if  there 
had  been  a  square  opening 
in  one  of  th«m,  which  had 
been  carefully  closed  with  a 
tind  of  door.  She  examined 
t  more   closely,   and    the 
bought    occurred    to   her, 
Perhaps    there    is    some 
easure  hidden  there,**  for 
d  remembered  as  a  child 
>  fearful    days    of    the 
folution,  when    no   pro- 
ty  was  safe  from  the  men 
berty  and  equality.  Per- 
I  somo  rich  man  had  con- 
>d  his  treasure  therefrom 
rapacity,  who  had  him- 
lUen  a  victim  to  the  Re- 
ion  before  he  had  had 
to  remove  if.  And  per- 
one    of   the  saints  to 
she  daily  prayed  hud 
red  it  there  for  her  to 
the  evening  of  her 


I  days.  She  tapped  with  her 
;  finger,  and  the  boanls  re- 
•  turned  a  hollow  sound.  With 
beating  hoHrt  she  tried  to 
remove  the  square  door,  and 
soon  sucoeccled,  without 
much  difficulty ;  but,  alas, 
instead  of  the  gold  and  silver 
she  hoped  to  see,  she  beheld 
a  damp,  dirty,  mouldy  old 
book  I  In  \wT  disappoint- 
ment she  was  ready  to  Kx  in 
the  boards  again,  and  leave 
the  book  to  mould  and 
crumble  away ;  but  a  secret 
impulse  induced  her  to  take 
it  out,  and  see  if  there  were 
any  bank-notes  or  valuable 
papers  in  it ;  but  no,  it  is 
nothing  but  a  book,  a 
mouldy  book  I 

When  she  had  a  little  re« 

covered  from  her  vexation. 

She  began  to  wonder  what 

book  it  could  be  that  some 

one   had   hidden   away    so 

carefully.     It  must  surely 

be  something  extraordinary. 

So  she  wiped  it  clean,  and 

set    herself  to  rend.      Her 

eyes  fell  upon  the    words, 

"Therefore  say  I  unto  you, 

Take  no  thou<;ht  for  your 

life  what  ye  shall  eat  and 

what  ye  shall  drink,  nor  yet 

for  your  body  what  ye  shall 

!  put  on.    Is  not  the  life  n-ore 

;  than    meat,   and   the   body 

I  than  raiment  ?      Behold  the 

:  fowls  of  the  air ;  they  sow 

.  not,  neither  do  they  reap, 

!  nor   gather  into  barns,  yet 

:  your  heavenly  Father  feed- 

;  eth  them .    A  re  ye  not  TnweYv 

better  than  they  ? "       A\\^ 

the  words  that  she  read  a^- 

V\9 


THE  BABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBBABUBT. 


peared  to  her  so  sweet  aod 
precious,  that  she  read  on 
aod  on  daring  the  whole  day, 
and  fkr  into  tlie  night,  air 
most  forgetting  to  eat  or 
sleep.  The  next  morning 
she  sat  down  again  to  the 
damp  old  book,  tiie  words  of 
which  made  an  ever-deep- 
ening impression  on  her 
souL  She  began  to  see  that 
she  had  indeed  found  a 
treasure,  and  an  invaluable 
one.  Her  little  chamber  no 
longer  looked  so  desolate; 
her  food,  which  had  so  often 
seemed  to  her  as  the  bread 
of  tears,  now  appeared  more 
like  bread  from  heaven;  and 
her  solitude  was  relieved  by 


the  presence  of  ' 
King,  from  whose 
gracious  words  si 
blessedness  flowed. 
She  had  the  hoc 
and  bound,  and 
her  as  meat  and  > 
day  and  by  night, 
was  permitted  to 
eyes  and  enter  int 
of  her  Lord.  Sli 
this  history,  in  1 
days  of  her  pilgrin 
beloved  pastor  in '. 
whose  hands  the 
book  is  now.  It 
otte*s  edition  of 
Testament,  of  th< 
the  Huguenot  pe 
—The  Book  and  its 


120 


^tfttfl  ai  out  fUpimafii 

[£  are  pilgprims,  we  are  strangers, 
Let  us  hasten  to  be  gone; 
Here  are  countless  snares  and  d 
If  we  linger  we*re  undone : 

Hasten  onward, 
Till  the  glorious  goal  be  won. 

Onward!  our  bright  home*8  before  us, 

Gleaming  on  us  like  a  star  i 
Saints  and  angels  stooping  o*er  us, 

Light  us  onward  from  afar. 
**  Come,  and  welcome, 

Where  the  saints  and  angels  are  I " 

Cast  aside  each  weight  that  lets  us, 

And  all  tempting  thoughts  within. 
And  the  sin  that  most  besets  us. 
And  each  Joy  that  Uads  to  sin. 

Look  to  Jesual 
iStrive  and  overcome  in.B.\m, 


^alijir  bg  ^mofte. 


e  BELGIAN  veswl,  i  that  all  her  creir,  nine  in 
h  balled  Tlie  LropoM,  '  namber.  and  their  officeri, 
I  ncetitly  rail,  in  a  :  had  periibed.  A  letter  wai, 
'  Tiolent  itorm,  on  a  I  howeTer,  afterward*  rtoeiTed 
lear  one  of  the  Palk-  !  ftom  one  of  the  craw,  iiame<l 
ilandi,  on  the  cout  ofj  Declerk,  tell'mg  ih&tbB*\i»w  \ 
3/tt,  Mnd  woat  to  /  etcaped.  He  awwft  to  »^ 
It    wgt   aappoaed  I  ialand :  he  fontxi  iu>  \tAikV\V- 

\av 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  8  TRBASURT. 


ants,  and  had  to  live  on  some 
bits  of  bread  which  had  been 
washed  ashore,  wild  celery, 
and  some  birds  which  he 
killed  with  a  stick. 

Happening  to  have 
matches  with  him,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  lighting  a  fire, 
which  he  fed  with  turf.  To 
make  his  fire  burn  well,  he 
partly  surrounded  it  with 
some  planks  washed  a^ore 
from  the  wreck.  One  night 
the  wind  blew  these  planks 
into  the  fire,  and  they  were 
consumed.  He  thought  this 
a  tetrible  misfortune^  but  it 
was  the  means  of  saving  him. 


An  American  shi 
pened  to  be  passing  t< 
off,  and  seeing  the 
smoke  —  an  eztrao 
thing  on  a  desert  i 
some  of  her  crew  dist 
ed.  They  found  tl 
fellow  crouching  o 
fire,  and  on  hearing 
they  took  him  on  boi 

Notice  how  this  m 
tremity  was  God*s  of 
ity— how  that  very 
stance  which  to  m, 
was  overwhelming, 
mercy  of  God  was  1 
means  of  his  safet; 
doi/  Scholars  Compat 


(^\xuu  p^atfe^n  |0oUs]fenf5 


[Ig^ATE  one  night,  a 
man  was  seen  at 
the  door  of  a  house 
ill  Shanghae,  with 
a  lantern  in  his  hand,  which 
he  waved  above  his  head, 
and,  in  a  mournful  tone,  call- 
ed upon  some  absent  person, 
while  some  one  within  an- 
swered in  the  same  sorrowful 
voice.  What  did  this  mean  ? 
A  child  of  the  family  had 
fever,  and  was  delirious. 
The  Chinese  fancy  that, 
when  any  person  is  suffering 
iu  this  way,  **his  soul  has 
gone  away,  and  is  rambling 
abroad."  This  being  their 
notion,  they  use  what  they 
think  proper  means  to  bring 
ic  back  to  the  forsaken  body . 
122 


For  this  purpose  th 
hangs  up  on  the  sid> 
house  a  figure  of  '. 
which  he  burns.  Th( 
ing  a  candle,  and  p< 
into  a  lantern,  he  s 
the  door  of  his  houf 
ing  the  lantern,  an< 
in  a  voice  of  kindi 
entreaty,  **  Asze, 
home  I  *'  to  which  th 
inside,  who  is  watcl 
sick  child,  replies, 
has  comeback.'*'  T 
tinues  until  the  ch'i 
vers  or  dies.  Th< 
suppose  that  the  wj 
spirit  sees  the  ligt 
the  voice,  and  is  the 

LodcKcut. 


I 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB's  TBBABUBT. 


''|t  bffjes  net  Contitttt^/' 

A    WORD   TO    TOUNO   BELIEVERS. 


/ 


AN  you  not  draw 
assurance  and 
comfort  from 
those  blessed 
promises?"  Thus  one  asked 
of  a  young  friend,  since,  I 
doubt  not,  gone  to  be  with 
Je«us.  Tlie  quickening 
gales  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
abroad  in  the  land  had  stir- 
red her  earnestly  to  desire  a 
higher  life,  and  more  assured 
joy  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  She 
cjuld  not  rest  even  in  that 
which  was  greatly  higher 
than  most  professors  are 
content  with.  She  longed 
intensely  for  a  clear,  un- 
doubting  hope.  Her  fHend, 
entering  painfhlly  into  her 
perplexities,  had  been  laying 
the  great  foundation  truths 
before  her,  —  the  precious 
assurances  of  Jesus,  that  He 
will  not  cast  out  any  one 
who  comes  to  Him.  **  Can 
you  not  draw  assurance  and 
comfort,"  said  she,  **fVom 
these  blessed  promises  ?" 
Mirk  the  reply  she  gave: 
*'Tes,  for  the  time,  but  it 
does  not  continue.  I  soon 
lose  it  again." 

Ah !  how  common  is  this 
experience.  How  many  in 
these  days  have  been  finding 
sfter  a  time  of  great  revival, 
when  they  had  their  hearts 
nnn§UMl2f  ifJ/ed  with  joy, 
itat  the  battle  is  to  get  it 
to  "continue/*     How  these 


bright  discoveries,  these 
hnppy  frames,  slip  away, 
they  know  not  well  how, 
leaving  them  d>«rk  and  sad. 
Well  the  Lorl  may  be  so 
ordering  it  to  draw  them 
onward.  How  very  prone 
we  are  to  rest  in  these 
pleasant  fhimes,  and  unduly 
to  value  them.  I  was  struck, 
when  I  heard  the  above, 
with  the  singular  aptness  of 
an  illustration  which  a 
worthy  friend,  who  saw 
much  of  the  LorcVs  work  in 
Ireland,  used  with  one  whose 
great  lament  was  that  her 
comfort  did  not  continue. 
"  Well"  said  he,  "  there  is 
one  thing,  we  are  not  saved 
by  our  comfort.  If  you  had 
much  of  it,  you  might  rest 
in  it,  Tou  remember  the 
story  of  Eliz<i*s  flight  with 
her  little  son  in  '  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin.'  It  was  all 
important  that  they  should 
get  forward.  Her  son  little 
understood  their  danger,  and 
would  rather  have  sat  down 
by  the  way,  and  have  enjoy- 
ed  the  apple.  But  she  kept 
always  rolling  it  before  him ; 
and  thus  she  kept  him  run- 
ning on,  and  lured  him  over 
many  a  half  mile.  The 
Lord  may  see  that  there  is 
something  better  toi  ^crai 
than  mere  preaexit  eoxniox^ 
and  thus  He  iroxiVd  dTvii 
jrovL  on." 


THB  8ABBA.TH  SOHOLjLB'B  TR1BA8UST. 


Yes,  there  is  sometliing 
better  than  mere  comfort, — 
simple,  undouhting  faith  in 
Jesus  is  far  better  ;  and  it  is 
much  to  be  feared  that  when 
we  get  taken  up  with  plea- 
sant feelings,  faith  is  not 
very  likely  to  thrive. 

But,  then,  there  is  this 
question  of  how  ever  to  get 
faith  and  the  happy  sense  of 
peace  with  God  in  Christ  to 
continue.  Some  reader  may 
say,  **  It  is  the  loss  not  of 
my  comfort,  but  my  hope 
in  Jesus,  that  I  have  to  la- 
nient"  Well,  likely  the  rea- 
son is  that  you  fall  into  the 
very  common  mistake  of 
fitfgetting  that  your  peace 
and  j  )y  must  always  he  fresh 
drawn  from  Christ.  It  is 
long  before  we  learn  this 
great  gospel  truth.  We  are 
bent  upon  peace;  and  havr 
ing  got  it,  we  are  so  pleased, 
that  we  dwell  upon  it,  and 
in  the  very  act  cease  look- 
ing to  Christ,  or  the  simple 
word  of  Christ,  which  has 
given  us  this  assurance. 
Thus  it  presently  dies,  and 


the  old  heart-aches  a 
come  back  again.  N( 
is  this  ?  Why,  it  i 
to  the  very  fact  that 
turned  aw^y  from,  o 
from  the  mind,  tha 
gave  us  peace.  If  y< 
the  word  of  promi 
can  your  faith  co 
If  you  turn  away  y 
from  Christ,  your 
peace  must  die  to  yi 
ception.  You  get  p 
looking  directly  to  C 
the  word  of  the  gosp 
you  can  only  cont 
peace  by  continuing 
directly  to  Christ.  '. 
ber  it  is  peace  in  Je 
away  from  Him.  I 
Him,  and  you  will  i 
peace.  Keep  those 
words  of  His  whic 
faith  in  you  contini: 
fore  your  mind,  lay  \ 
in  your  heart^  fee 
faith  and  your  liop 
them,  and  you  will  f 
faith  grow  ezceedini 
your  heart  establish! 
joy  and  peace  in  bell 


i^n't    ©attU. 


ON'T     talk     about 
each  other.    Don*t 
call  one  of  your 
school-fellows 
*''ig'y>**   another  "stingy," 
another  cross,  behind  their  \ 
backB.    It   i«  the  meanest 
son  of  fin.    Eren  if  they 
are  uftly,  stingy,  or  croea,  it 
124 


does  you  no  good  U 
it.  It  makes  you  loi 
of  faults ;  it  makes  i 
charitable ;  your  hee 
its  kindly  blood  wh 
tattle  a^out  your 
TfW  all  tKfc  good  ^01 
aY>out  lVv^iii\  «xA  Q 
avua  to  ^oxit  oHni\L< 


THE  SABBATH  BOHOLAB's  TBBASimT. 


/ 


sorry  for  them,  and  to  tell  |  thing,**  call  to  mind  some 
them  to  God,  and  ask  Him    Rood    that   Mary  did,  and 


to  pardon  them.  That  will 
be  Christ-lilce.  If  anybody 
says  to  you,  "  Oh,  that  Mary 
did    such    a   naughty 


hold  it  up  to  her  praise. 
Jyeflrn  to  make  this  a  habit. 
—F,  C,  Record. 


%  ittximtMtWxxi^  ifloL 


WISH  I  had  a  for- 
tune-telling book," 
said  one  of  the 
three  boys,  as  they 
walked  down  to  the  river  to 
KO  swimming :  **  I  want  to 
know  what  my  luck  is  to  be. 
I've  tried  to  buy  one,  but 
t!iere*s  none  to  sell." 

"I've  got  one,"  said  the 
barber's  son. 

''Got  one!'*  cried  Bill 
Staples  eagerly;  **why  didn't 
you  tell  of  it  before  ?  Wliere 
is  it?  " 

"  Down  at  the  shop,"  an- 
swered the  barber's  son. 

*<And  it  does  tell  what's 
C)ming  to  pass,  does  it?" 
asked  the  third  boy. 

•«  Yes  it  </oc«." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  ?  " 
asked  the  third  boy;  ''you 
haven't  lived  long  enough  to 
know  if  it's  told  your  for^ 
tune  right." 

'*  Why,  you  see  it's  a 
rery  old  book,"  said  the 
barber's  sou.  "  My  grand- 
father had  it,  and  it  told  his 
tortune ;  then  my  father  had 
it,  and  it  told  /<£$,  and  it  all 
came  to  pass." 

"It  bedtB  all,**  cried  Bill 
8tapJe§;    **what    a   prize! 


Why  don't  you  go  round 
telling  fortunes  ?  You'd 
make  lots  of  money*" 

**I  am  afraid  nobody 
would  believe  me,"  said  the 
barber's  son  humbly. 

•*Well,  show  it  to  us," 
said  they. 

''  Come  down  to  the  shop 
to-night,"  he  said ;  **  come 
just  after  we  shut  up ;  that's 
the  best  time  to  read  it." 

**  Sell  it  to  me,"  cried  Bill 
Staples;  "how  will  you 
trade  now?" 

'<  Can't  part  with  mine," 
answered  the  barber's  son; 
"but  I  reckon  you  can  get 
one  where  mine  came  from." 

"I'll  have  one  as  certain  as 
my  name  is  Bill  Staples; 
but  we'll  come  and  try  our 
luck  with  you." 

«*  Agretfd,"  said  they  all. 

The  two  boys  were  before 
time,   and  hung  round  the 
shop  until  every  customer 
had  gone  and  the  shutters 
were  put  up;  then  in  they 
went.     The    barber's     son 
asked  them  to  be  seated,  and 
drew  a  little  table  out,  and      . 
placed  a  \a.m^  on  VXi,  tXiKa.   \ 
he  wcntlot^v^Xiw:^^'^^^' ^^    ^ 
the  BYio\>,aiiAo^«D\Tv%^'^^^5'^ 


TBB  BABBATH  SGMOLAB*B  TBBA8VBT* 


trunk  (fot.af  you  maj  well 
think,  such  a  book  was  kept 
Yery  carefully),  took  it  out, 
and  laid  it  on  the  table,  the 
boys  narrowly  eyeing  him  all 
the  time.  **  There,"  he  said  in 
a  very  sober  tone  when  he 
laid  the  book  on  the  table, 
"  there,  boys,  is  my  fortune- 
telling  book.  What  it  says 
is  8ure**  The  two  appren- 
tices scrambled  to  the  table. 
*«  Th$  BihUr  they  ex- 
claimed, at  once  shrinking 


back.  **  Yes,"  said 
ber's  son,  ^  that  is  i 
er*s  Bible,  and  it  sa^ 
are  but  just  two  ii 
you  and  for  me  to 
chances  in  this  worl 
is  called  the  *bro£ 
and  the  other  the  '  si 
narrow  way.'  ** 

Such  a  fortnn 
book  they  were  not  1 
of;  but  it  is  the  oi 
that  does  not  decei 
F.  C.  Record. 


''m\ui  mxw  itftt  §0?'' 


;ITTLE  boys  are 
yery  often  heard 
to  speak  of  what 
they  would  like  to 
he  and  like  to  do  when  they 
are  "men."  Perhaps  one 
little  boy  thinks  he  will  be 
a  farmer,  and  have  plenty  of 
land,  to  keep  horses,  cows, 
and  sheep,  and  to  raise 
grain,  fruit,  and  yegetables. 
Another  may  fancy  he 
would  like  to  be  a  merchant 
and  liTe  in  a  large  city  or 
town. 

Still  another  chooses  to  be 
a  doctor,  and  visit  the  sick, 
80  that  people  will  be  glad  to 
see  him  if  they  are  ill,  and 
remember  him  with  grati- 
tude when  they  are  well. 

All  these    are  very  good 

plana,  for  all  these  pursuits 

are  necessary  to  the  welfare 

of  Bociety,    We  could  not 

do  without  the  farmer  who 

providea  ub  food — the  mer- 

126 


chant  who  sells  us  < 
or   the    physician 
always  welcome  in  1 
room. 

But  let  me  ask  m, 
friends,  who  are  1 
how  they  will  spen 
lives,  if  they  are  s] 
become  men,  if  a 
them  will  not  choos* 
come  ministers,  and 
about  the  Saviour,  t 
may  '*  believe  on  Hii 
saved.** 

True  benevolence 
to  desire  the  highc 
piness  of  others,  j 
religion  of  Jesus  C 
fitted  more  than  al 
things  to  make  mei 
in  this  world. 

Therefore,  it  is  eai 
that  people  who  at 
volent  will  wish  that 
kind  may  be  taught 
gam  xYvft  ^act^wx  ^V  ^ 
\ioyT  to  ^x«^«t^  ^w 


THB  SABBATH  BOBOI«AB't  TBBABUBT. 


ill  men  know  thej  must 
soon  die,  and  if  they  see  no 
bri|{hter  world  beyond  the 
fUnje^  they  will  shrink  from 
death  as  from  a  dreadful  foe, 
and  die  in  hopeless  despair. 
Did  70U  erer,  my  young 
friends,  see  a  Christian  die  ? 
Perhaps  your  own  father  or 
mother  may  have  left  yon, 
and  gone  home  to  heayen. 
Perhaps  you  stood  by  the 
bedside,  and  ^'saw  the  last 
struggle,  heard  the  last 
uxoan/'  It  may  .  be,  your 
friend  died  rejoicing  in  the 
thought  of  being  so  soon  with 
Jesus,  in  that  world  where 


there  is  no  sin.  How  diffe- 
rent the  scene  when  a  Chris- 
tian dies  from  that  which  is 
witnessed  when  the  unfor- 
given  pinner  resigns  his 
breath. 

It  is   a   solemn   thing  to 

teach  men  the  way  to  heaven, 

but  it  is  also  a  great  pririlege. 

And   if  God   has    forgiven 

your  sins  for   Jesus'    sake, 

ought  jou  not  to  show  your 

gratitude  to  Him,  by  devoting 

your  time,  talents,  and  every  - 

I  thing  you  may    possess    or 

I  acquire  to  His  service?  **  It 

.  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 

■  to  receive." 


%\t  ^xokn  itrfkU. 


^On  have  read  in 
your  own  hntory 
of  that  hero  who, 
when  an  over- 
whelming force  was  in  full 
pursuit,  and  all  his  followers 
were  urging  him  to  more 
rapid  flight,  coolly  dis- 
mounted, in  order  to  repair 
a  flaw  in  his  horse's  harness. 
Whilst  busied  with  the  bro- 
ken buckle,  the  distant  cloud 
swept  down  in  nearer  thun- 
der ;  but  just  as  the  prancing 
hoofs  and  eager  spears  were 
ready  to  dash  down  upon 
liim,  the  flaw  was  mended, 
the  clasp  was  fastened,  the 
steed  was  mounted,  and,  like 
a  swooping  falcon,  he  had 
Tanished  from  their  view,  j 
*'  Tbe  broken  buckle  would  ; 
lutreJeAbim  oa  the  Seld  &  / 


dismounted  and  inglorious 
prisoner;  the  timely  delay 
sent  him  in  safety  back  to 
his  bustling  comrades.  There 
is  in  daily  life  the  same 
luckless  precipitancy,  and 
the  same  protitable  delay. 
The  man  who,  from  his 
prayerless  awaking,  bounces 
into  the  business  of  the  day, 
however  good  his  talents  and 
great  his  diligence,  is  only 
galloping  on  a  steed  har- 
nessed with  a  broken  buckle, 
and  must  not  marvel  if,  in 
his  hottest  haste  or  most 
hazardous  leap,  he  be  left 
inglorious  in  the  dust ;  and 
though  it  may  occasion  some 
little  delay  beforehand,  V\\% 
neighbour  is  wiser  wYio  aeXa 
all  in  order  before  lV\emaTc)[v 
begins." — /?e».   J.  Hamilton. 


jniifi. 


SSl^  tell«  about 
^^^^  ipring  where  all 
who  went  to  drink  were 
cured  of  tlieir  Inflrmltlee, 
1'be  (tory  lays  that  every 
time  people  drink  of  It  they 
f(et  more  and  more  beauti- 
t'al,  and  if  they  have  mj  ie- 
fonnity  it  ii  cured  Yiy  l\ie 
Mine  meana.  '  A  drauKM 
1S8 


Of  c 


!  thit 


fslry  tale ;  there  i 
■pring  anywhere  i 
cure  our  bodily 
but  there  ia  a  ^ 
spring  which  can  I 
\\ieaijWs    oat  *QUli 


TBI  SJkBBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBIASUBT. 


■ha]]     neyer    thirst  |      Can    any  of  you   young 

Tliere  is  a  fountain    readers  find  out  the  verses 

o  all,  in  which  every    which  telU  us  of  these  liv- 

ay  be  washed  away    ing  waters  and  of  this  true 

ery  infirmity  cured.        fountain  ?—  Children's  Paper. 


(S0ob  IrinripUs. 


iMMA,  what  do 
>ou  mean  by 
good  princi- 
ples ?**  said  a 
rirl  to  ner  mother, 
person  of  good  prin- 
'my  dear,"  said  her 
r,  **is  one  who  does 
)  well  tor  fear  of  the 
he  lives  with,  but 
be  fear,  of  God.  A 
rho  has  good  princi- 


ples will  behave  just  the 
same  when  his  mamma  is 
out  of  the  room  as  when  she 
is  looking  at  him,—  at  least, 
he  will  wish  to  do  so ;  and  if 
he  is,  by  his  own  wicked 
heart,  at  any  time  tempted 
to  sin,  he  will  be  grieved, 
although  no  person  knows 
his  sin,  for  he  will  feel  that 
God  sees  and  knows  it." — 
Children's  Paper. 


%\i  fittle  lag. 


)OTHKB,"  said  a 
little  girl,  one 
day,  *'l  have  read 
stories  about 
who  were  so  good  and 
hat  ererybody  loved 
and  they  made  all 
who  knew  them.  I 
rerybody  loved  me  in 
ye  way ;  but  if  I  were 
1  as  ever  I  could  be, 
re  1  oould  not  do  as 
opie  I  read  about. 
i  little  girl  as  I  can 
lake  t  he  whole  world 
cjuld  I,  mother  ?" 
nother  answered  with 

yery  certain,  Mia" 


nie,  that  even  little  children 
have  it  in  their  power  to  add 
much  to  both  the  happiness 
and  discomfort  of  their 
friends.  God  has  given  to 
each  human  being  something 
which  we  call  influence, 
which  makes  our  words  and 
actions  of  izreat  importance 
to  those  with  whom  we  as- 
sociate. You  may  not  be 
able  to  ^niake  the  whole 
world  happy,'  as  you  say, 
yet  you  Ciin  easily  make 
yourself  a  blessing  and  a  joy 
to  those  around  you.  If 's  oxii  \ 
cannot  do  every  thm^,  "you  \ 
can  at  least  do  something.  \ 
The  beautiful  ligYit  by  vi\\W\\     \ 

\29  \ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAH'B  TUBAtUXT. 


we  see  is  made  up  of  different 
rays:  one  little  faj  alone 
would  neTer  be  sufficient, 
but  each  one  forms  an  im- 
portant part,  without  which 
the  light  would  not  be  perfect. 
And  so  you,  by  trying:  to  be 
like  Jesus,  gentle  and  kind 
to  a//,  may  become  a  little 
ray  to  form  part  of  the  bright 
light  of  happiness  which 
makes  the  hearts  of  those 
whom  you  love  glad." 


If  all  little  boys  an 
would  remember  thi 
cheerful  word,  each 
look  and  kind  action 
counted  as  one  ray 
light  of  joy  which 
beauty  and  warmth  o 
wherever  it.  falls,  how 
brightness  our  world 
be !  S  )rrowing  headf 
be  fewer,  and  happ; 
would  gladden  every' 
hold  hearth." 


ias  ^aux  ^in  iomh  ^an  (BnU 


9 


MINISTER  was 
preaching  from 
these  words,  **  Be 
sure  your  sin  will 
fi  nd  you  out."  He  said  many 
awakening  things  about  sin 
finding  out  those  who  com- 
mitted it ;  and  among  others 
this :  *']fyoadonot  find  out 
your  sin,  and  bring  it  to 
Jesus,  to  get  it  pardoned  and 
washed  away  through  His 
blood,  be  sure  your  sin  will 
find  you  out,  and  bring  you 
to  the  judgment-seat,  to  be 
(condemned  and  8ent  away  by 
the  Judge  into  eyerlasting 
punishment." 

A  little  girl,  who  had  told 
her  mother  a  lie  before  she 
came  to  hear  the  minister, 
was     listening,     and     she 
thought,  ''Oh,  that  lie;  I 
must  either  find  it  and  bring 
it  to  Jesus,  or  it  will  find  me 
out  at  the  great  day." 
I'he    child    was    greaUy 
aUrmed,     She  became  -veTy 
130 


anxious  about  her  soi: 
vation.  She  cared  f 
thing  earthly ;  her 
was  entii^ly  occupies 
thoughts  ot  eternal 
She  could  not  rest  un 
went  and  told  the  m 
all  she  felt  and  feared, 
walked  several  miles  t( 
to  him,  and  the  bur 
her  errand  was  this : 
what  shall  I  do  with  m; 
He  said,  **  Lay  it  upi 
spotless  Lamb  of  Go 
He  will  take  it  entirely 
Let  us  now  lay  it  upon 
said  the  kind  pastor 
with  that  he  kneeled 
with  the  awakened  chi 
commended  her  to  *^ 
that  great  Shepherd 
sheep."  He  spoke  to 
the  love  of  Jesus,  an 
went  home. 

The  next  time  the  m 
saw  Vver^  she  came  t* 
w\\\v  a  >Qit\^X  «xA 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAB*S  TBBABUBT. 


hand  and  aaid,  **  Well,  hare 
you  laid  your  ein  npon  the 
ipoUesa  Lamb  of  God  ? " 
'  Oh  yea,"  she  replied,  "  and 
111  never  lay  any  more." 
She  meant  that  she  would 
Defer  sin  again — she  would 
never  more  tell  a  falsehood. 
Her  heart  was  so  full  of  love 
to  Jesus  for  taking  away  ber 
sin,  that  she  could  not  think 
it  possible  that  she  should 
sin  again.  And  that  is  the 
true  mark  of  a  Christian, 
that  he  resolves  to  sin  **no 
more." 
Dear  children,  have  you 


laid  your  sins  on  Jesus  ?  A 
sure  mark  of  it  will  be  this, 
that  you  wish  with  all  your 
heart,  never  to  have  any  mure 
to  lay  upon  Him. 

The  minister  told  this 
little  story  many  miles  from 
where  it  happened,  and  the 
minister's  wife  told  it  again 
to  her  class,  when  a  young 
woman  was  awakened  by  it 
to  care  for  her  soul.  O  gra- 
cious Spirit,  use  it  again  for 
the  good  of  our  readers, 
and  thus  glorify  the  "spot- 
less Lamb  ot  God.*'— CAt^s 
Companion, 


(gob  Counts. 


BROTHER  and 
sister  were  playing 
in  thedining-ioom, 
when  their  mother 
let  a  basket  of  cakes  on  the 
tea-table,  and  went  out. 

"  How  nice  they  look !  '* 
said  the  boy,  reaching  to  take 
one.  His  sister  earnestly 
objected,  and  even  drew 
back  his  hand,  repeating 
that  it  was  against  their 
mother*8  direction. 


*'  She  did  not  count  them," 
said  he. 

*<But  perhaps  God  did," 
answered  the  sister. 

So  he  withdrew  from  the 
temptation,  and,  sitting 
down,  seemed  to  meditate. 
"  You  are  right,"  replied  he, 
looking  at  her  with  a  cheer- 
ful yet  serious  air  :  ''  God 
dots  count.  For  the  Bible 
says  that  the  hairs  of  our 
head  are  all  numbered.*' 


T       has      frequently  I  pular  that  one  hears  verses 
been      asked       re-    of  it  npeated  at  almost  every 
spec  ting     the    au-  /  open  air  meeting,  aa  vieW  a% 
.  thorabip     of     this  j  elsewhere.      Ihe   vstVlet   ol 

/  Ajma,  which  i§  dow  bo  po-  /  it  was  the  late  Rev.  ^am^% 


THB  BABBJLTU  BOHOLAB'b  TBBASDRT. 


Proctor,  Independent  min- 
ister at  Hamilton,  near  Glas- 
gow. He  was  quite  a  young 
man  when  he  died.  But  al- 
though he  had  done  no  more 
than  written  that  beautiAil, 
clear,  simple  gospel  lyric,  he 
had  not  liyed  in  vain.  As 
many  of  our  readers  may  not 
have  seen  it,  or  perhaps  seen 
it  only  in  a  mutilated  Jorm^ 
we  will  subjoin  it,  that  we 
may  give  it  them,  and  pre- 
serve it  as  the  author  wrote 
it.  It  is  prefaced  by  these 
lines:—  '*  Since  I    fiist  dis- 


covered Jesus  to  be 
of  the  law  for  righi 
to  every  one  that  I 
I  have  more  than  < 
with  a  poor  sinnei 
peace  at  the  foot 
instead  of  Calvary  0 
ing  as  little  speed  a 
and  I  have  heard  1 
and  again  in  bit 
appointment  and  fei 
ing  ou%  *  ]Vkat  mui 
I  have  saiil  to  him,  * 
what  c»n  you?  wha 
need  to  do  f**' 


Nothing,  either  great  or  small, 

Nothing,  sinner,  no ; 
Jesus  did  it,  did  it  a//, 

Long,  long  ago. 

When  lie  from  His  lofty  throne 

Stoop*d  to  do  and  die, 
Everything  was  fully  done ; 

Hearken  to  His  cry : 

"  It  UfiaisKd!  "  Yes,  indeed, 

Finish'd  evVy  jot ; 
Sinner,  this  is  all  you  need. 

Tell  me,  Is  it  not  ? 

Weary,  working,  plodding  one, 

WJtiy  toil  vou  80  ? 
Cease  your  doing ;  all  was  done 

Long,  long  ago. 

Till  to  Jesus'  work  you  cling 

By  a  simple  faith, 
"  Doing  "  is  a  deadly  thing, 

'^  Doing"  ends  in  death. 

Cast  your  deadly  "  doing"  down, 

Down  at  Jesus'  feet ; 
Stand  in  Him  in  Him.  d'one^ 

Gloriously  complete ! 


182 


^lass  f  irnscs.  | 

fATT  came  home  '  look»  mora  aalovely  thiin  k  { 
from  school  ODe  j  ohild'a  face  under  such  lAt-  ] 
dajr  with  quits  a    cumstancei?  i 

fluihed  face,  and  "  Mother,  I  don't  want  to  j 
Melty  cherry  lips  did  :  play  wiih  Maggie  Hart  ' 
■ear  nearly  as  sweet  an  anolher  time,"  »b«  tn&-,  \ 
nion  a*  common.  If  "she  gets  angry  M  vtVPj  \ 
ruth  niiut  be  told,  /  little  thing,  and  ttieiv  «\K* 
•M»  Mngry,  aaJ  wb»t  /  off"  and  telli  the  girt*.    %^« 

_^^  laa 


THB  SABBATH  80HOLAB*S  TRBA8UBT. 


calls  names  too.  I  never 
8aw  such  a  disagreeable  girl, 
nor  one  that  got  angry  so 
easy.** 

**  People  that  live  in  glass 
houses  shouldn't  throw 
stones/'  said  her  brother 
Arthur  dryly,  looking  up 
from  his  book. 

"You  have  said  that 
before,  Arthur,"  said  Katy, 
peevishly;  "but  I  am  sure 
I  don*t  know  what  you  mean 
by  it." 

"  Why,  they  would  break 
their  own  walls,  wouldn't 
they  ?"  he  asked. 

"There  is  a  verse  in  the 
Bible,  Katy,"  said  her 
mother,  "  that  may  help  you 
understand  Arthur's  old- 
fashioned  proverb.  It  is: 
*  Why  beholdest  thou  the 
mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's 
eye,  and  considerest  not  the 
beam  that  is  in  thine  own 
eye.'  It  is  hardly  consistent 
for  you  to  get  so  angry 
because  a  playmate  got 
angry." 

Katy  looked  quite  asham.ed 
when  she  saw  herself  placed 
in  such  a  ridiculous  light; 
and  as  her  mother  went  on 
to  show  her  the  great  wick- 
edness of  indulging  such  a 
8inful  temper,  she  began  to 
feel  very  sorry. 
,  "  I  have  often  thought." 
said  Aunt  Eva,  "that  people 
would  be  more  careful  of 
their  remarks  on  others  it 
they  only  thought  about  the 


hearts     closely, 
almost  every  case  '^ 
judged     another 
demned  ourselves." 

"  Why,  Aunt  Ev 
I  am  not  so  bad 
people.    I  never  s 
thing,  as  Sally  Bai 
said  Katy. 

"  Are  you  quite 

have  always  been  « 

as  you  ought  of  o 

pie's  property? 

never  let  a  borro' 

lie  around  the  nun 

it  was  so  soiled  yc 

bought  a  new  one 

it?    Now  I  am  no 

that  was  stealing 

one  who  loaned  th< 

the    first   place, 

your  father  afterw: 

you  ever  think  t 

your     carelessnes 

mother,  or  some  o 

great    deal    of    "^ 

trouble,  that  you  a 

precious    time,    i 

treasure  than  go! 

have  been  taught 

your  duty  to  give 

what  you  receive, 

least,  to  the  Lon 

fail  to  do  80,  and 

for  yourself,   who 

rob  ?    The  third  . 

Malachi,  eighth  -' 

tell  you," 

Katy  read,  wit 
serious  face,  th 
"  Will  a  man  i 
Yet  ye  have  re 
But  ye  say.  Wh( 
vje  Tobbed  thee  ? 


'glass  houses '  they  lived  \u 
themselves.       We      sliouVd  \  awd  oS^tyr^^.* 
£Dd,    if  w^  examined  oui  \  A.\iti\.    I^'^^ 


TKB  SABBATH  •OROLAB'S  TRBASDBT. 


lear   caie    agAinst 

80,  Kity  dear,**  the 
1,  **if  we  take  up 
iny  other  sin,  and 
ir  hearts  a  little,  I 
i  we  ahall  find  our- 
reat  sinners.  Re- 
we  all  live  in  'glass 
n  God*s  sight.  He 
'erj  wrong  thought 


as  well  as  every  sinful  action. 
Our  own  weakness,  Katy, 
should  make  us  bear 
patiently  with  the  wrong- 
doing of  others.  We  love 
ourselves  with  all  our  faults, 
and  we  should  learn  to  love 
otliers  in  the  same  manner. 
No  one  can  have  the  spirit  of 
Christ  who  has  not  the  spirit 
of  love."— 5.  S.  Tretuuty. 


ptter  ixtm  a:  ioung  Ulissiatwrg  in 
Cftttral  ^mi\  ffrira. 


LETTER  has  just 
been  receired  fh>m 
Miss  Ross,  dated 
1^,  June  24.  She 
ommenced  to  assist 
r  in  the  great  Mis- 
rk,  having  lately 
1  her  education  in 
'able  Institution  for 
ries'  Daughters  at 
ston,  near  London. 


«D   18  oua   suap- 

HBKD." 

will  doubtless  have 
says  our  youni^ 
rom  Papa*8  letter, 
e  tour  to  his  outsta- 
which  H.  and  I  ac- 
id him.  Our  journey 
pleasant  and  pros- 
iVe  generaJ/y  break- 


this  being  skins  of  wild 
animals  prepared  in  a  certain 
way,  and  then  carefUHy 
sewed  together.  This  was 
our  table  and  chairs,  and  we 
had  a  blazing  Ore  before  us. 
Thus  we  travelled  for  three 
days ;  passing  occasional 
hamlets  in  the  day- time;  Hud 
sleepinv  duriog  the  night,  by 
the  road-side.  Our  quiet 
was  disturbed  now  and  then, 
only  by  the  howl  of  the  wolf, 
the  yell  of  the  jackal  (or 
fox),  or  the  hoot  of  the 
ostrich.  '  God  is  our  refuge 
and  strength,  and  a  very 
present  help  in  trouble, 
therefore  will  not  we  fear.** 


KECBPTION  AT  A  VILLAGB. 

"On    Wednesday    aX\At 
but  sanrise.      We  I  noon  we  arrived  at  a  "v\\\a\?.^ 
ne  our  KarasB^  j  —  Maye*a-Khoro  —  as\&    «^* 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB's  UUBABUBT. 


fi^n  as  our  arrival  was  made 
known,  we  saw  .  several 
people  coming  toward  us, 
with  their  bibles  and  hymn- 
books,  all  ready  and  eager  to 
hear  the  word.  Papa,  how- 
ever, was  not  able  to  preach 
till  the  evening,  when  the 
small  chapel  was  crowded. 
Every  thing  here  was  very 
becoming  and  pleasing,  with 
the  exception  of  the  singing, 
which  was  more  like  scream- 
ing than  any  thing  else. 
However,  the  poor  people 
'evidently  and  hecartitif  did 
their  best;  and  we  must 
keep  in  mind,  that  they 
have  yet  had  no  regular  in- 
struction in  that  branch,  and 
so  be  glad  to  have  such 
evidence  of  babmbstnkss  at 
least." 

VISIT  TO  TAUNG. 

"We    started    from  this 

village    on    Thursday,    and 

reached    Taung  on  Friday 

morning.     The  scene   here 

is  beautiful ;  for  as  far  as  the 

eye  could  see,  was  nothing 

but  large  fields  of  Sechuana 

com,  and  apparently  a  very 

heavy  crop.    How  gladsome^ 

after  the  late  destruction  of 

the  crops  by  war,  and  the 

after- drought,  when  the  poor 

people  lived  on  roots ,  and  not 

a  few  sank  under  atarvotton ! 
136      ' 


When  we  arrivec 
station,  we  were 
welcomed  by  all; 
whom  had  known 
me  when  children, 
not  seen  us  for  a 
years." 

PUBLIC  BEL10I0DS  6 

"We  had  a  me 
prayer  on  Saturdi 
noon,  and  again 
Sunday  morning, 
school  and  morning 
there  were  20  to  be 
nine  of  whom  we 
dates  for  church 
ship,  and  the  real 
Among  the  latter  w 
about  six  years  o 
although  totally  b 
repeat  the  whole  of 
ling  book.  In  the  i 
was  their  usual 
also  the  adminiati 
the  Lord's  Supper 
70  communicantf 
being  necessarily 
watching  their  gan 
their  corn-fields,  on 
of  the  birds,  &c.  '. 
lightful  was  the  sen 
present,  and  how  sol 


BET  OUT  AGAIN  FOl 

"On  Monday  w< 
a  neighbouring  vUl 

Y^ete       «L^tt\^    VvQk^ 

corned)  vE\iWx»A  «b 


TBI  SlBlira  HUOI^K  t  TBKAIiniT. 


ce;  and  agun,  oa 
Bt  Bootchaap,  And 
:  hnme  on  Friday. 

enjoyed  the  jour- 
Dnch  indeed. — the 

ihe  ye»r,  and  tLe 


.    well 


I   ttie 


if  ibe  people,  til 
I  give  m  pleMure. 
thing  that  grieved 
he  BwTul  amount 
liim  tbere  Is  Btill 
nuio  ait-stnlioH, 
0  different  were 
igs  there  to  wfaat 

liatlong.  Thtre, 
heard,  bU  around, 
igiand  dances,  &c. 
t  is  quite  the  re- 
r  the  people  of 
even  those  who 
yet     proreued 


nd  our  many  kind 
Scotland,  would 
ed  it  no  lesB  than 


all  collected  lo- 
I  once  more,  and  ' 
«bs4  ioF  muof  j 


*  time,  when  wd  might  ttel 
jIuII  Tor  wBDt  of  company, 
-we  notrplayand  ting,  hating 
got  a  pioQo,  which  a  very 
dear  friend  purbbaeed  for  lu 
It  Aigoa  Bay.  When  it 
retidied  ui,  after  ihe  rough- 
ing of  the  desert,  it  WM  very 
mucii  out  of  imie.  But  a 
trader  faaa  gireii  u»  a  key, 
Hod  M.  and. I  hare  -managed 
to  put  it  in  very  good  order 
again."  Toll  will  be  lure 
that  it  li  quite  a  cnrioaity 
to  our  people.  We  have, 
liocereceivingit, been  bring- 
ing the  beat  aingeia  of  the 
place  to  our  houie  every 
Tuesday  and  Friday  eveii- 
iogato  teach  them  new  tiinea, 
but  we  regret  to  lay  ihii 
has  been  inierrapted." 


"  A  week  ago  a  wa^on 
reached  tbia  fi-oni  an  out- 
■tation  with  Mveral  men 
affile  Led  with  imall-pox, 
which  bai  obliged  ua  to  give 


ntben 


I  hear  that  aome  of 
our  people  have  been  inoo- 
L'ulating  themselvei  and  &- 
milies  from  the  pox  of  a  dia- 
easedperaiin,  l^y  whicli  mean* 
they  get  the  diaeme,  butiu  a 
milder  form  than  whcnta^ea 
by  Jitfection,  And  vxus 
iiare  got  OTer  it  vithoiLb  w 


tUB  SABBATH  BOHOLAH'b  TBBAiUttT. 


of  the  pox  anywhere  hut 
that  on  the  firm.  Weareyery 
sorry  for  the  poor  people, 
bat  hope  it  will,  in  the 
gracious  providence  of  God, 
go  oyer  mildly  with  them; 
the  more  especially  that  it 
is  a  good  time  of  the  year ; 
it  being  now  the  cold  season, 
although  not  much  like  an 
English  winter,  but  more 
like  spring. 

ARRIVAL  OF  BOXES  FROM 
SCOTLAND. 

"The  boxes  which  our 
very  kind  friends  in  Scot- 
land sent,  have  arrived  in 
safety ;  and  from  what  I  see, 
I  have  no  doubt  are  highly 
valued.  Your  last  has  been 
of  unsi>eakable  benefit  to 
both  our  family  and  the 
Mission.  I  am  sure  we 
would  have  been  very  differ- 
ently situated  now,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  kindness 
thus  shown  to  us ;  and  that 
by  so  many !  The  last  sent 
has  not  yet  reached  us,  but 
is  at  Cape  Town,  awaiting 
a  safe  opportunity  for  being 
carried  to  our  far  inland 
dwelling. 

9AD  END   OF  THB   MAKOLOLO 
/  JiI3SlON. 

/        *'  Ton  will  doubtless  have 
/     heard  of  the  melancholy  etid 


of  the  Makololo 
We  have  just  seei 
our  native^  wha  w 
with  them,  but  hai 
through  6od*s  infl 
ness.  From  theii 
tion,  there  is  nol 
but  that  they  died 
For,  as  soon  as 
was  eaten  by  th 
suffered  much,  ] 
throats  began  to  i 
several  other  symp 
shown  which  clei 
that  their  statem 
true.  I  little  thov 
I  saw  them  all  f 
Cape  Town,  that  1 
years  had  passes 
their  number  wc 
left  this  world,  bet 
infants.  What  cl 
constantly  ta|Lin 
And  what  number 
to  watch !" 

NARROW  E8CAPJ 
LIVINGSTO] 

**I  need  scarcel, 
we  are  all  most  J 
thankful  to  know 
of  the  many  awf 
that  had  been^  a 
learn,  denounced  i 
Livingstone,  by 
graded  tribe,  the  1 
IvM  been  acted  on 


TBS  SABBATH  SGHQIiAB'S  TRBASUBT. 


Spared,  but  has  been  allowed 
to  leaye  without  any  per- 
lonal  injury.  He  has  evi* 
denUy,  however,  been  greatly 
deoeired  as  to  t£e  fate  of 
poor  Mr  Helnaore  and  the 
Qthew." 

Who  does  not  join  in 
liearty  thanks  to  Almighty 
6od  for  the  Doctor's  de- 
iiTerance  and  preservation  ? 
And  who  does  not  sympa- 


thize with  those  wliose 
friends  have  thus  fallen  in 
the  cause  of  their  divine 
Master.  And  what  disciple 
does  not  rejoice  as  he  hears 
Jesus  saying,  "Fear  not,  I 
am  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life,  he  that  believeth  in 
Me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live"? 

R.  F.  F. 


^1^6  Strang  ^rm. 


ONCE  saw  a 
lad,"  says  an 
A  merican  writer, 
*'  on  the  roof  of  a 
▼eiy  high  building,  where 
WTeral  men  were  at  work. 
He  was  gazing  about  witli 
ipparent  unconcern,  when 
suddenly  his  foot  slipped,  and 
h  fell.  In  falling  he  caught 
^yapope,  and  hung  iiuspend- 
f^  in  mid  air,  where  he  could 
neither  get  up^  nor  down, 
and  where  it  was  evident  he 
could  sustain  himself  but  a 
short  time.  He  perfectly 
knew  his  situation,  and  ex- 
pected that  in  a  few  minutes 
he  must  drop,  and  be  dashed 
to  pieces.  At  this  fearful 
nioment,«  kind  and  powerful 
Dian  rushed  out  of  his  house, 
uid,  standing  beneath  him 


with  extended  arms,  called 
out.  *  Let  go  the  rope,  and 
1  will  receive  you ;  I  can  do 
it;  let  go  the  rope,  and  I 
promise  that  you  will  escape 
unhurt.'  The  boy  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  then  quitted 
his  hold,  and  dropped  easily 
and  safely  into  the  arms  of 
his  deliverer. 

**  Here,  thought  I,  is  an 
illustration  of  faith.  Here 
is  a  simple  act  of  faith .  The 
boy  was  sensible  of  his 
danger.  He  saw  his  de- 
liverer,  and  heard  his  voice. 
He  believed  in  him ;  trusted 
to  him  ;  and  letting  go  every 
other  dependence  ani  hope, 
dropped  into  his  arms  and 
was  safe.  He  was  saved  by 
faith." 


\a^ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASURT. 


paging  fraj^rs. 


TOUNG  minister, 
addressing  the  chil- 
dren of  a  Sunday 
school  in  Cheshire, 
by  way  of  fixing  their  atten- 
tion, said  to  a  little  girl,  five 
years  of  age,  "  Can  you  say 
your  prayers?"       She  in- 


stantly replied.  "Yes 
He  then  asked.  ''Cai 
pray  ?  '*  when  she  as  r 
answered,  *'No,  sir." 
perceive,  my  dear  chi 
that  this  little  girl  kne^ 
mere  saying  "pT&yen  : 
praying. 


liO 


^6  f  O&i  of  ICSUS. 

I^ET  us  think  of  the  love  of  Jesus  ! 

Though  little  can  finite  minds  knov 
Of  the  infinite  love  which  passeth 
The  knowledge  of  man  here  below. 

Let  us  speak  of  the  love  of  Jesus ! 

With  friends  who  have  faith  in  His  name, 
And  proclaim  to  the  chief  of  sinners, 

That  for  such  the  Saviour  came. 

Let  us  live  like  the  blessed  Jesus ! 

In  serving  His  Father  above, 
And  in  constantly  going  about, 

Doing  good  unto  all  in  His  love. 

When  we  die,  may  it  be  in  Jesus ! 

In  His  arms  may  we  sink  to  rest. 
Safe  in  Him  when  God  summons  us  hence, 

With  joy  we'll  obey  the  behest. 

May  we  rise  by  the  power  of  Jesus ! 

From  the  long  repose  of  the  grave. 
And  complete  be  restored  to  our  God, 

Among  those  whom  Christ  came  to  save. 

May  we  reign  for  ever  with  Jesus ! 

On  His  throne  of  glory  on.  high, 
And  Join  in.  the  aouga  oi  Oa.e  xwv&tyreC^, 

While  angela  adoimgaXASi^Vy. 


THE 


Tfl  SCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


msi  of  ^ang  (galleries. 


>UND  myself 
!  on  a  tiine  inside 
Ajestic  building, 
I  by  them  I  be- 
1  about  the  same 
ssed  very  much 
g  through  long 
lich  one  after 
med  to  have  no 
had  already  tra- 
il of  them,  and 
le  door  leading 
md.  of  one  and 
the  new  scene 
as  opened,  these 
I  moment  at  the 
d  were  told  by  a 
never  left  them 
7as  behind  was 
.  The  door  then 
md  the  gallery 
had  just  been  a 
Te  they  could 
9.     Their  faces 


were  set  forward  to  pasa 
through  the  next — ^and  the 
next  after  that — until  they 
should  come  to  the  last  of  all, 
and  their  strange  journey  haye* 
an  end. 

At  first  I  never  could  see 
that  either  of  them  shewed 
any  sorrow  as  one  gallery  with 
its  lovely  objects  was  shut  be- 
hind them  for  ever,  and  another 
opened.  On  the  contrary, 
they  rather  seemed,  as  they 
got  near  the  close  of  one, 
eagerly  to  quicken  their  steps, 
that  they  might  rush  forward 
into  the  unknown  delights 
and  riches  of  the  other.  I 
saw  the  face,  of  their  Guide 
more  than  once  very  sad  fo? 
this  cause ;  but  although  He 
would  have  had  ihem"^%fex  :5ft\. 
a  little  ere  what  ^aa  at\\i\i5Lea^ 
should  be  shut  off  \)eNoxidL  xe 

A   


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEA8UBT* 


call — ^lost — their  heedlessness 
was  generally  too  great,  so 
much  so  that  they  were  wont 
to  be  at  the  new  door  some 
time  before  its  opening,  and 
rapping  merrily  to  have  its 
great  leaves  flung  back.  I 
wondered  not  a  little  at  this, 
because  each  gallery  was  very 
fair.  It  contained  everything 
that  was  beautiful  for  the  eye 
to  behold,  gold  and  silver,  and 
precious  stones.  Everything 
that  was  pleasant  for  the  lips 
to  taste,  fihiits  ripe  and 
luscioTts,  and  lying  about 
in  abundant  heaps.  Every- 
thing that  was  gladdening  for 
the  ear  to  liear,  music  wafted 
from  an  hundred  harps,  as 
one  faded  away  another  breath- 
ing forth  its  sweets.  Each 
gallery  was  in  this  way,  for 
such  young  travellers  espe- 
cially, a  "paradise  of  rare  de- 
lights— ^long  bars  of  sunshine 
pouring  through  the  windows, 
and  the  ijch  air  such  as  you 
read  of  in  "fairy  tales,  and 
yet  the  very  wealth  about 
them  seemed  to  take  the  edge 
off  the  youths'  wonder  at  last. 
Sometimes  indeed  liiey  stopped 
at  an  object  more  brilliant  than 
usual  with  a  cry  of  pleasure ; 
but  they  were  hurried  on  again, 
/  ODd  their  race  was  for  the  next 
/  gallery  to  see  whatnewhiAden 
/     BuarelB  it  would  diBclose. 


At  length,  howeve: 
to  mark  a  difference 
between    the    two. 
them  gradually,  as  1 
ear  now  and  again 
the  wise  Guide  whis] 
c£une  thoughtful  and 
aspect.    The  other  a 
was  impatient  of  resi 
creased  in  a  kind 
reckless    temper,  w 
only  broke  out  in  fil 
play,  but  generally 
his  casting  from  him  ] 
one  lich  object  that 
rush  impetuously,  an< 
of  all  warning,  on  1 
So  that  when  theync 
at  the  end  of  a  gal 
their   Guide    asked 
take  some  account  of 
ders  they  had  passed 
I  saw  that  the  latter 
without  one   single 
gathered  out  of  all  t 
while     the     former 
shewed  some  precioi 
he  had  patiently  pi 
and  with  which  by 
his   dress   became    i 
and   anon  two   of    t 
sparkling     of     whic 
twined  into  the  long 
of  his  hair.     As  ever 
was  passed  too,  he 
more  heed  to  what  -tl 
Tiever  ceased  to  tell  til 


onse  dwindled  ontil,  .  tbe  heat  of  Qie  daj  and  laj 

ay  dioald  pasa  a  tew  |  down  on  a  conch  in  ft  cool 

mbsfs,  all  the  glitter-  '  spot  to  rest.  Be  bore  tbeni 

ineaB  wonld  fade,  HJid  |  forward,   m   it  were  in   one 

Id  look  back  to  these  common  dream,  through  the 

ht  wonders,  bat  look  I  TlewleBS  aJr.    Door  after  door 

Tain.       So    strong  |  they   sped  tiiroiigb,   chamber 

IB  admonition  ta  to  alter    chamber    opened    aiA    \ 

'  ooee  did  I  notice  was  pssaed,  tJU  'Casij  '\>«bd&     ' 

were  fatigued  with  j  one  become  Ue»k£i  Ki4  ^ittm 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB^S  TBEA8T7Bt'. 


than  another — all  the  snnshiiid 
clouded — all  the  raare  things  for 
eye  and  ear  and  taste  gone, 
and  at  last  they  stood  in  a 
gallery  which  they  knew  was 
the  end,  heyond  which  mys- 
tery and  darkness  lay  as  if 
another  world.  There  the 
O-nide  awfolly  seemed  to  part 
them,  one  being  motioned  to 
prctoeed  on  the  right  hand,  the 
other  on  the  left,  for  there 
was  this  distinction  belonging 
to  that  last  solemn  chamber, 
that  instead  of  one  door  as 
heretofore  opening  beyond  it, 
it  had  two,  and  as  the  bright- 
ludred  treasure-laden  boy 
stepped  through  one,  it  was 
into  a  city  of  pearl  gates  and 
golden  streets,  and  where  he 
was  welcomed  by  a  multitude 
of  harps  to  see  sights  that 
dazzled  his  yery  soul,  while  ■ 
as  his  reckless  and  prodigal 
companion  stepped  through 
the  other,  it  was  into  such 
outer'  darkness,  as  hid  all 
shapes  away,  and  made  a 
smoke  like  the  smoke  of  tor- 
ment ascend  up  for  ever  and 
ever. 

This  was  their  dream,  and 
afterwards  when  they  awoke 
both  were  troubled,   but  the 
gentler  of  the  two  clung  to  the 
/     band  of  the  Guide  as  tho\ig\i  \ 
/     a77  hia  heart  were  now  giyeii 
/      np  to  follow  Him  like  as  you 

I '__! 


have  seen  the  lambs 
the    footsteps    of   t 
shepherd,  while  I  gi 
see  that  his  fellow  ^ 
hardihood  and  dariuj 
he  obeyed  anything  f 
was  the  sullen  moti( 
of  his  own  wayward  yi 
on  they  went,  the  two 
this  the  scatterer  of  tl 
strewn  about  them, 
gatherer  of  all  his  litt 
and  bosom  could  co 
be  poured  at  the  fee 
Guide  at  last.     This 
the  poorer  in  the  end 
yery  riches    he    had 
through;  that  to  be 
not  only  of  these 
treasures,  but  of  treat 
hath  not  seen,  ear  1 
heard,  neither  hath  h< 
ceiyed.      So    with 
door  turning  in  its  grc 
clashing  behind  them 
went  on,   they  were 
yiew. 

Can  my  young  rea 
the  key  to  this  little  ti 
the  New  Year  not  the  i 
to  them,  are  they  not 
through  the  awful  gal 
God  eyen  now ;  and  a 
the  great  Guide,  han{ 
their  steps,  and  teach 
while  they  go,  at  the  ei 
c\i«xQ[\>e;t  QSid.  «t  the 
oi  Wio^i\iet ,  ^cife'&'^'fcTi 


rVS  fiiBBATH  SOHOLAB'B  TBBASUBT. 


eaTe  each  pupil 
I  of  this  ere  he 
ih  start  for  the 
),  to  reckon  np 
ast  which  is  gone 
been  wasted,  or 
er  Jeans*  teach- 


ing, he  has  really  began  to  do 
that  best  thing,  best  especially 
in  the  fair  years  of  yonUi,  to 
pluck  eyery  hour  and  day  he 
can  for  God  on  earth,  and 
that  rich  treasure  to  lay  up 
in  heaven. 


%  '§tk  pission. 


readers  have 
'd,  and  perhaps 
.  of  many  strange 
adyenturous  tra- 
lave  been  made 
again  to  track 
>f  the  Nile.  It 
IS  old  riyer  of 
yet,  although  so 
to  men,  and  a 
y  of  human  life 
s  of  years,  the 
ce  it  begins  first 
have  lain  hid 
mong  the  depths 
^yssinian  lulls, 
belted  round  by 
dgh  and  rugged, 
impassable,  lies 
r  shadow,  and 
1,  so  to  speak, 
wild  yalley,  that 
hich  it  has  just 
to  send  out  two 
from  our  Church, 
land  to  us,  and 
marvellous — for 
ling  in  it  (about 
or  so  in  number) 
ajident  descent, 
,  than  any  other 
By  many,    they 


ar3  judged  to  be  the  root 
whence  sprang  the  old  Hebrew 
stock.  At  any  rate,  they  are 
near  of  kin ;  and  at  this  day 
not  only  are  there  many  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  Jews 
scattered  in  the  valley,  but 
the  mass  of  the  people  have  a 
religion  strangely  mixed  up  of 
the  laws  of  Moses,  of  rites  and 
traditions  that  belong  to  the 
first  century  of  Christianity, 
and  of  parts,  too,  of  Moham- 
medan worship.  There,  where 
generations  have  lived  and  died 
beyond  their  hills  and  cut  off 
from  the  knowledge  and  the 
changes  of  the  whole  world 
besides,  these  fragments  of 
a  very  old  time  have  been 
handed  down,  till  of  late  years, 
some  good  and  bold  men  have 
made  way  into  the  charmed 
ground  in  the  name  of  Jesus, 
carrying  the  gospel  of  His 
Cross. 


THOSE  WHO  HAVE  GONE  BE- 
FOBE  US. 

Both   from   EngVaaiiQL   «ii\ 
from  Germany  not  a  le^  "^i^i^^ 
already    opened    Tip    «^   xDOBr 


THE  8ASPATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEASURT. 


sionary  path  into  Abyssinia. 
Here  was  the  scene  in  which 
Dr  Erapf  won  so  much  of 
his  fame  as  a  Christian  adven- 
turer and  herald.  Some  of 
you  are  old  enough  to  ask  for 
his  Travels,  and  to  get  a  few 
of  the  most  interesting  pas- 
sages in  the  hook  pointed  out 
to  you,  which  some  of  you  are 
old  enough  also  to  read  and 
understand.  No  less  zealous 
was  the  present  Bishop  Gohat 
of  Jerusalem,  who  spent  many 
years  of  his  life  as  a  mis- 
sionary in  Abyssinia,  and  who 
is  labouring  just  now  to  break 
open  a  broad  and  beaten  high- 
way reaching  from  the  seat 
of  his  see  at  Jerusalem  all 
along  the  banks  of  the  Nile 
with  stations  at  regular  inter- 
vals, till  the  last  of  these 
shall  be  planted  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  country  we  seek 
to  win  as  the  inheritance  of 
Christ.  This  highway  is 
to  be  named  the  Apostles' 
Boad,  because  along  the  track 
marked  out  for  it,  it  is  sup- 
posed once  on  a  time  the 
Apostles  themselves  or  certain 
of  them  bore  the  message  of 
the  gospel.  The  stations 
are  to  be  in  number  twelve, 
and  each  is  to  bear  an  Apostle's 
name ;  and  whereas  by  Bishop 
Gobat's  account,  through  one 
of  the  only  two  roads  into 
Abyssinia  at  present  you 
could  not  pass  without  the 
overhanging  rocks  on  both 
sides  catching  and  dashing 
ibe  paek-Baddles  from  the 
horses*  sides  to  pieces,  \)y  and 
bye  it  is  earnestly  to  be  ho]^ed 

6 


a  gospel  way  shall  be  pi 
broad   and  &ee,  and 
on  its  fingerposts,  "  £ 
unto  the  Lord." 

THE   LABOUBEBS  WE 

Their  names  are  M. 
and  M.  Brandeis.  Tl 
both  of  them  of  Swist 
and  have  been  trained 
Pilgrim  College  near  B 
which  mention  has  bee 
to  my  young  reader 
than  once  before.  1 
College  which  owes  : 
and  nursing,  I  belies 
much  to  the  piety  of  a 
able  gentleman  of  Bi 
name  M.  Spittler.  Tl 
of  it  is  one  of  beautif 
plicity  such  as  is  rare 
in  the  world  now-a-da 
which  takes  us  back  i 
to  the  love  and  toils  of  I 
the  other  apostles, 
men,  mostly  of  the  1 
class,  on  whose  hearts 
has  set  His  seal,  are  adn 
the  College,  where  they 
members  of  one  famil' 
speak.  They  ae  tau 
study  of  the  Scriptui 
nestly  and  prayerfoll 
the  intervals  of  stu( 
labour  with  their  ha 
every  common  handici 
industry,  some  in  gai 
some  in  the  art  of  f 
some  in  other  arts  wh 
be  useful  to  teach  tc 
and  to  be  the  means 
ning  for  them  afterwai 
own  bread.  Then 
dooT  Aft  o^eaed  for  a  i 

wry  C92!\  \.o  %si3  ^gM? 

-votVd,    ioT^    ^«» 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEA8T7BY. 


pilgrims  go  two  by  two,  carry- 
ing little  or  nothing  with  them, 
I  belicYe,  beyond  the  clothes 
they  wear,  and  the  few  tools 
that  may  be  needed  for  daily 
toil.  In  sublime  faith  they 
go  to  all  the  ends  of  the  earth 
tiius.  Not  a  few  are  in  South 
America  dipping  far  into  its 
forests ;  not  a  few  in  North 
America;  and  in  Europe, lately, 
seyeral  have  made  way  into 
the  iron  depths  of  Bnssia. 
They  ask  little  help  to  be 
sent  after  them  in  tlie  ^ape 
of  money.  All  they  ask  is 
a  footing  in  the  heathen 
wilderness  whither  they  are 
sent.  Then  they  pitch  a 
little  rude  hut  reared  by  their 
own  hands — ^then  they  clear  a 
piece  of  ground  about  it  and 
fence  it  in — ^then  they  dig  and 
sow  and  reap,  and  carry  on,  in 
short,  all  the  other  labours  by 
which  they  provide  for  them- 
selves each  day  under  God 
their  daily  bread;  and  when 
the  natives  of  the  spot  cluster 
round  to  see,  to  mark  the 
unoffending  humble  workers, 
to  pick  up  a  little  knowledge 
of  the  simple,  yet  to  them 
wonderful  arts  they  bring, 
and  to  mark  day  by  day,  their 
life  of  quiet  genUeness  and 
prayer,  tiiey  are  able  to  lay 
hold  npon  the  simple  hearts, 
to  say  to  them  earnestly,  "  Ye 
shall  see  greater  things  than 
these !"  and,  standing  up  unde; 
the  shade  of  some  ^ee,  or  by 
a  river^s  bank,  or  in  the 
ehamber  of  their  own  dwelling. 


to  preach  to  them  Jesus  Christ 
and  Him  crucified. 

Two   such  men  from   the 
Pilgrim  College  of  our  Jewish 
mission,  has  engaged  to  be  our 
first  preachers  sent  into  Abys- 
sinia.    When  I  tell  my  little 
readers,  £50  a  year  to  each  is 
all  at  the  outset  that  is  re- 
quired, they  may  imagine  it 
is  an  immense  sum ;  for  per- 
haps no  Sunday  scholar  ever 
had  in  his  pocket  at  a  time 
one    fiftieth   part   so    much. 
Yet  if  you  live  to  be  men  and 
women,  you  will  find  out  that 
for  such  a  journey,  and  such 
a    labour,    £50    is    a    mere 
drop  in  the  bucket.     A  hun- 
dred of  our   Sunday  schools 
could    collect    the    sum    for 
both  missionaries  by  a  box  of 
twenty  shillings  in  a   single 
night.     "What  if  not  a  few  of 
you  should  try.     "What  if  you 
began  the  New  Year  by  de- 
termining that  you  would  pay 
the  whol£  of  these  noble  pil- 
grims' salary ;  and  if  a  letter 
should  by  and  bye  be  written 
to  Professor  Mitchell  in  your 
name,   telling  him   that   the 
great  honour  of  breaking  this 
first    missionary    ground    in 
Abyssinia,  shoidd  belong  not 
to  the  Jewish  Mission,  who 
have  a  great  deal  to  do  other- 
wise, but  should  be  claimed 
by  the  scholars  of  the  Sunday 
Schools    of    the    Church    of 
Scotland  ?    If  I  see  this  hint 
taken  up,  I  promise  to  write 
to  you  on  the  subject  again. 


IRE  SABBATH  SCBOLAB'S  TSBA8UBX; 


imomxi^  litstittrtwn,  ^ 


readers  of  the 
Sabbath  Scholar^s 
Treasury  will  re- 
inemb^  .that,  in  our  August 
numher,  an  account  was  given 
of  a  great  change  having  taken 
place,  in  the  character  and 
condition  of  a  high-caste 
Hindoo,  at  the  ahove  Institu- 
tion. That  he  had  given  up 
the  worshipping  of  gods  made 
by  the  hands  of  men,  seeing 
them  to  be  no  gods  at  all ;  at 
the  same  time,  cleaving  to  the 
living  and  the  only  true  God. 
Nay,  rather  than  part  with 
Jesus,  he  had  become  willing, 
though  with  a  sore  heart,  to 
part  with  his  very  mother. 
Yet,  he  loves  her  still,  and  that 
more  than  ever ;  and  he  doubt- 
less prays  that  they  may  be 
united  soon  again,  and  for 
over,  but  through  love  to 
Jesus. 

ANOTHER  LETTER — MORE 
CONVERSIONS. 

"  I  am  happy,"  says  our 
kind  correspondent  at  Madras, 
**  to  inform  you  that  we  have 
had  three  more  cases  of  great 
changes,  I  would  trust  of  real 
ionvers^ons,  since  I  last  wrote 
borne.  One  is  that  of  a  Mo- 
iianunedaD  young  man ;   au- 


other  of  a  Boma 
and  a  third  of  i 
Hindoo.  There 
disturbance  in  reg 
conversion.  Tk 
were  in  frantic  ] 
change  that  had 
with  them.  Som 
the  case,  that  Mr 
miss&naiy,  was  d 
persons  to  guard  t 
House.  The  Mi 
young  men,  Bom 
doos,  and  Mohanu 
perfect  fury,  dei 
mission  into  the 
They  were  admitt 
to  the  youths,  wh 
conversation  with 
did  everything  th> 
the  way  of  threi 
otherwise,  to  indu 
leave,  and  go  aloUj 
but  all  to  no  purp 
'*  Finding  thei 
get  the  conveys,  c 
free  will,  to  leave  1 
House,  to  be  alto^ 
they  then  anxioui 
steal  them  away,  t 
poison  them.  Tl 
one  of  them  now  f 
drown  herself,  but 
^  prevented  from  doi 

ol  \^e  ^\)!CL  oil 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


men ;  but  they  bear  up,  because, 
as  we  believe, they  are  persuaded 
that  although  they  may  be  left 
by  all  oartlily  friends,  yet  God 
is  their  Father  and  Friend, 
who  will  never  forsake  them." 

EVIDENT  PROGRESS  OF  THE 
WORE. 

For  the  seven  long  years 
going  before,  notwithstanding  j 
the  great  labours  of  our  mis-  ! 
sionaries  at  Madras,  there  were  i 
no  conversions  ;   whereas,  be-  ' 
sides  the  four  spoken  of  above, 
three  others  are  reported  by 
a   later    mail,    or,   seven   in 
all,  as  to  all  appearance  in 
the  unspeakably   solemn  cir- 
cumstances of  entering  in  at  ; 


the  ^'strait  gate.''  Now,  as 
we  know  that  this  has  been 
brought  about,  "  not  by  might 
nor  by  power,  but  my  Spirit, 
saith  the  Lord,"  so  let  us 
feel  and  say,  "  Unto  God's 
great  name  be  all  the  praise  1 " 
Yet,  who  can  doubt,  that,  the 
many  prayers  now  ascending 
from  the  disciples  of  Christ, 
in  every  land,  for  the  spread  of 
the  glorious  gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God,  are  being  heard  ? 
And  what  believer,  young  or 
old,  does  not  plead  before  the 
Throne  that  soon  the  whole 
inhabitants  of  the  kingdom 
of  darkness  may  belong  to 
the  kingdom  of  God's  dear 
Son?  R.  F.  P. 


i  iffg's  mmon. 


n 


lY  son,"  said  the 
Rev.  Legh  Rich- 
mond, "  remem- 
ber you  must  die — and  you 
may  die  soon,  very  soon.'  If 
you  are  to  die  a  boy,  we  must 
look  for  a  boy's  religion,  a 
boy's  knowledge,  a  boy's  fietith, 
a  boy's  Saviour,  a  boy's  salva- 
tion;     or  else    a   boy's  ig- 


norance, a  boy's  obstinacy,  a 
boy's  unbelief,  a  boy's  idolatry, 
a  boy's  destruction.  Remem- 
ber all  this,  and  beware  of  sin ; 
dread  the  sinfulness  of  an  un* 
changed  heart;  pray  for  a 
new  one ;  pray  for  grace  and 
pardon  and  a  soul  conformed 
to  the  image  of  Christ  Jesos.'' 
— S,  S.  Advocate, 


"Snljj  a  Srille." 


«wpx^S  do  cot  think  how 

j^^fflK  being  oaieful  to  ofc- 
iWatS  aerre  small  things. 
The  wiMBt  and  pentesl  men 
h&te  alniLys  .Iwen  mcn  who  , 
were  attentivt  lo  little  tliinna 
iiBthty-Wf[ittliroiigbthew.irl,l. 
The  iKjet  aajH— 
■■  Think  nngbt  a  trllU,  Ihwigli  It 


Of.J™.™!  ^ 


And  yet  how  apt  are  we  lo 
think  within  om-Helvea,  when 
any  event  LEt|i[wiis  which 
WWDta  small,  t}i»t,  bri'iiuxi-  it 
is  Bmall,  we  need  not  paj  on; 
attention  lo  it.  There  was 
once  a  boy  at  acboal,  whom 
we  slinll  I'all,  if  joa  please, 
Tom  Heedless.  Tom  Heed- 
leas  thought  lliat  if  he  got 
Ihrangb  his  taakx,  it  did  Dot 
luach  matter  whether  he  ao- 
compliahed  thein  perfertlv  or 
not.  When  ho  had  a  verse  of 
a  hjmn  to  repeal,  there  tieK 
always  two  or  three  biuDdere 
made ;  and  it  was  the  same 
with  his  rcndinR,  BpcUni];,  ami 
in  fHc^l  witli  all  hi?  picreisis, 
Tom  Heedless  did  nothing 
well.  No  doubt,  he  contrived 
to  get  thtoogh  his  leasonti,  as 
we  said ;  but  then,  what  ~ 
wretched  fctfiiii;  thioogh 
nan  Mintakta    here,    t 

miatakee  iJiere  I      &  letter 
10 


when  be  came 
in  his  Bible,  ( 
work  lie  mode 

to  meddle  wiU 
tell  him,  as  he 
that  he  was  wel 
leas ;  for  Tom 
himself  with 
these  were  on 
what  waa  the 
lin^liimaijlf  wi 

and  his  father 
liat  it  K«e  hie 
working  for  1 
hood ;  and  he 

om  school. 

e  saw  Tom  E 

great  idle  bo; 

Is  banda  in 
his  father's  dc 
him  why  he  «i 
situation,  and 
drew  from  hij 
not  siiriiriaed 
that  nobody  * 
thing  to  do  « 
lawyer  wanted 
good  at  writinj 
the  merchant 

short,  Tom  H 
fit    for   any  i 

Now,  do  no 

leas  f  la  ther 
who  overlooka 
,  a).  \&«,^  ^.-oda ' 


THB  SABBATH  BCHOIAB^S  TBEA8UBT. 


0  it  well.  Attend 
)  minutest  things. 
)jes  open  to  what- 
I.      Never   say  of 

"0,  it's  only  a 

1  celebrated  man 
3d  one  day  with 
ignre  in  marble, 
id  came  in  to  see 

friend  remarked 
[Ore  seemed  to  'be 
rery  slowly.  **  O," 
nrer,  **  do  not  you 
I  have  given  it  a 
and  anotiier  there 


since  you  saw  it  last?  I  have 
deepened  this  line,  and  I  have 
made  that  feature  to  stand  out 
a  little  more . '  *  His  friend  then 
answered — "  Yes ;  but  these 
are  only  trifles."  '*  True," 
said  the  carver,  "  but  perfec- 
tion is  made  up  of  trifles." 
Now,  let  us  all  remember  this 
great  truth,  that  perfection  is 
made  up  of  trifles. 

Do  not,  therefore,  be  a  Tom 
Heedless.  Never  think — "0, 
its  only  a  trifle !  " 


nt  is  B  i«g  I  jcan  %tut 


I  once  visited  a 
public  school.  At 
recess  a  little  fel- 
low came  up  and 
e  teacher.  As  he 
;o  down  the  plat- , 
laster  said: 

a  boy  I  can  trust, 
iled  me." 

wed  him  with  our 
iked  at  him  when 

seat  after  recess, 
fine,  open,  manly 

thought    a    good 

the  master's  re- 
hat  a  character 
boy  earned.  He 
f  got  what  would 
3re  to  him  than  a 
t  would  be  a  pass- 
le  best  store  in  the 


city,  and  what  is  better,  into 
the  conlidence  and  respect  of 
the  whole  community.  We 
wonder  if  the  boys  know  how 
soon  they  are  rated  by  other 
people.  Every  boy  in  the 
neighbourhood  is  known,  and 
opinions  are  formed  of  him ; 
he  has  a  character,  cither 
favourable  or  unfavourable. 
A  boy  of  whom  the  master  can 
say,  "  I  can  trust  him — he 
never  failed  me,"  will  never 
want  cmplovment.  The  fide- 
lity, promptness,  and  industry 
which  he  sliows  at  school  a  e 
in  demand  everywhere  and 
prized  everywhere.  He  who  is 
faithful  in  little  will  be  faith- 
ful also  in  much. — S,  S.  Advo- 
cate, 


W 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAK'S  TBEAfiUBT. 


^e  'goiftlinm  of  %ist 

jESUS,  thy  name  I  love 
All  other  names  above, 
Jesus,  my  Lord ! 

Oh,  thou  art  all  to  me, 

Nothing  to  please  I  see, 

Nothing  apart  from  thee, 

Jesus,  my  Lord! 

Thou,  blessed  Son 

Hast  brought  me  with  thy  blood, 

Jesus,  my  Lord! 
Oh,  how  great  is  thy  love 
All  other  loves  above. 
Love  that  I  daily  prove, 

Jesus,  my  Lord ! 

When  unto  thee  I  flee, 
Thou  wilt  my  refuge  be, 

Jesus,  my  Lord  I 
What  need  I  now  to  fear. 
What  earthly  grief  or  care, 
Since  thou  art  ever  near. 

Jesus,  my  Lord  ? 

Soon  thou  wilt  come  again ! 

I  shall  be  happy  then, 

Jesas,  my  Lord  I 

Then  thine  own  face  1*11  see. 

Then  1  shall  like  thee  be, 

Then  evermore  with  thee, 

Jesus,  my  Lord ! 


12 


•  ./^-r  .f  r  r^ 


tn  suuxs  MSM.u'i  i«ufnmx. 


Uie 


hive  of  bees.  In  Uie 
imtner  weather  there 
gpectiwIeB  more  in- 
To  see  Ibein  tbroag- 
t  out,  like  tbe   '     ' 


winging  his  waj  up  into  Uie 
air  nntal  jon  can  Boarcelj  see 
liim,  and  then  eetting  off  on  a 
jonmej  away  OTer  the  town  to 
the  clover  field,  or  the  lijne 
trees,  no  donbt.  Xco^er  'jtta  \ 
see  busy  among  the  ^lairt*  "A 
the  garden ;  he  loses  n    '""  " 


OD»  I  doea  aot  waste  a  momeii^.  ^>^ 
1% 


THE  SAJBBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEASUST. 


from  flower  to  flower  onward 
he  goes,  a  beaatiful  pattern  of 
industry  to  boys,    girls,   and 
old  people  too.     Then,  iif  you 
keep  your  eye  on  the  entrance 
of  the  hive,  you  notice  that 
there  are  weary  bees  coming 
in  almost  every  instant,  laden 
with  honey.     They  have  been 
away,  these   active   little   la- 
bourers,   away  over    meadow 
and  hill ;  away  by  stream  and 
up    valley,     gathering     their 
precious  stores ;  and  we  can 
almost  £EUicy  that  we  observe 
them  to    have   a  tired    look 
when  they  alight  at  the  gate, 
and  creep  into  their  little  city. 
Did  you  ever  carefully  observe 
a  bee  in  a  flower  ?     There  can 
scarcely  be  a  prettier  sight. 
First  he  comes  right  down  cm 
it,  as  if  he  were  in  a  pro- 
digious hurry,  as  no  doubt  he 
is  :  then,  when  he  finds  that 
the  flower  is  not  quite  sure  of 
letting  him  in,  he   does  not 
lose  one  single  moment  in  idle 
politeness,   but  headforemost 
down  he  goes,   and  you  see 
nothing  of  him  for  a  moment 
or  two — you  only  hear  him 
inside    buzz-buzzing.      Then 
out  he  comes  again,  and  never 
stops  to  say  "  good-bye,"  but 
is  off  in  an  instant.     If  you 
could  look  into  the  inside  of 
the  bee-hive,  too,  you  would 
be     very    much    astonished. 
The  whole  of  the  inside  of  the 
hive  is  beautifolly  divided  into 
little  rooms,  where  the  bees 
la^  up   their  honey    for   the 
winter  time.     They  pack  the 


there  is  another 
nected  with  the 
you  may  notice,  if] 
them  very  closely ; 
is  so  extraordinary  i 
worth  looking  at. 
kind  of  bee  which  i 
drone,  an  idle  use 
when  the  other  be< 
work,  he  remains  i 
or,  if  he  goes  out  t 
to  make  honey,  l 
himself  in  the 
Then,  after  he  hat 
ing  about  all  day 
into  the  hive  in  t 
expecting,  no  dou 
his  supper  along  w 
These  drones  am 
lowed  to  live  in  t 
a  long  time ;  but, 
hard  working  p 
bees  get  tired  of 
the  two  have  sn* 
In  the  end,  the  di 
ways  beaten,  and ; 
sometimes  their  < 
1  ving  in  great  nun: 
ground. 

A  great  many  '. 
be  learned  from 
little  inhabitants 
hive.  "When  you  ^ 
children  than  vou  j 
were  taught  to  rep 
hymn  wkich  begin 

"  How  doth  the  littl 

but  you  must  noi 
only  little  childre: 
lessons  from  bees 
bishop  of  the  Chu 
land.  Bishop  Ha 
YiO'^^  he  felt  instruc 


honey  quite  neatly   away  m  \  in.^  aA.  \jeev     'S 
their  litUe  rooms.     Aad  tbea,  \  "  ^exa  \b  t^o  m« 

14 


THB  SAJUIiLn  lOHOLAm^l  TBBA8UBT. 


MnUaiee  of  a  nation  than 
A  itwbire  is."  There  wba 
ioalhaffetii  man  who  once 
M^  this  re^lark,  in  speaking 
to  a  friend — "  My  mind  re- 
uouUegabee-hiTe."  We  have 
often  thought  of  this  saying, 
tad  we  haTe  often  said  to  oiur- 
selrea  that  it  would  indeed  be 
a  happy  thing  if  onr  minds  re- 
semble bee-hives  more.  Per- 
^w  you  may  not  at  once  see 
^wX  is  meant  by  having  our 
minds  like  bee-Mvea ;  ao  we 
M  explain  it: — A9  the  bees 
fly  forth  from  their  litUe  dty  to 
gather  honey,  so  our  thou^ts 
should  be  always  in  search  of 
^hst  is  aseful  and  good. 
When  the  bee  settles  on  a 
flover,  it  is  to  take  honey  from 
it,  npt merely  to  amuse  itself; 
>uidsoit  should  be  with  our 
thoughts,  whatever  they  fix 
npoQ  they  should  turn  to  good 
teooimt.  Then,  does  not  the 
^  pa«s  by  paiaaoQU9  flowers  t 


and' ought  not  our  thoughts  in 
the  same  way  to  avoid  ah.  sub- 
jects which  are  bad  ?  When 
the  bee  has  gathered  its  honev 
from  the  flowers,  home  it 
comes,  and  stores  it  up  in  its 
little  room  ;  and  so  it  ought  to 
be  with  our  thoughts — what 
we  gather  by  active  thinking 
we  should  carefully  lay  up  in 
our  minds,  tliat  we  may  re- 
member it  long  afterwards  I 
when  the  sunny  days  of  life 
ase  all  past.  And  are  there  no 
dr(me$  in  our  minds  7  are  thezt 
110  idle  vain  thou^ts?  Well, 
we  should  do  with  these  drones 
what  the  bees  do — fight  battle^ 
with  them,  and  drive  them  lar 
away.  Is  it  not  greatly  to  ba 
deaired,  then,  that  our  gunds 
should  be  like  bee-hives,  full 
of  busy,  useful  thoughts; 
and  stored  with  supplies  of 
that  heavenly  knowledge,  of 
which  Solomon  says  that  it  is 
"  as  the  honeycomb  ?" 


^\t  |rttit  Hi  i\t  ^fml 


CHAPTBB  I, 

£R£  were  two  pie- 
tures,  before  which 
stood  a  very  thoughts 
fill  boy.    The  one  represented 
I  group    of    figure*    closely 
crowded   together — some    of 
them,  the  men  of  the  group 
Mpeoially,  with    dark  rougb 
/  h.0s,' otherStHndtbemmoBtXj 
f  tki  women,  atoopijig  inward 


with  VI  eager  gladness  and 
surprise.  All  were  dressed  bi 
the  wild  costume  of  Easterns, 
and  did  not  seem  above  the 
rank  of  poor  labouring  pea- 
sants. What  was  it  they  so 
aamettly  clustered  round  to 
look  at — and  what  shed  the 
light  of  wonder  ov^r  ^Nwck  %^  \ 
giimmeat  cotmtaiiAiii^^  \&. 
the  oentre  of  the  tp^oxoix^  viN>  % 


THE  0ABBATH  BCH0I«A9'S  tSEASUBT. 


noble  figure,  as  if,  wearied  by 
the  way,  he  had  taken  to  rest 
for  a  few  minates,  making  a 
mde  stone  his  seat;  and 
gathered  round  his  knees,  one 
or  two  sitting  on  them,  and 
embraced  by  his  arms,  others 
crowding  about  him  on  the 
ground,  were  several  children, 
all  looking  up,  fairness  and 
innocence  in  their  gaze,  evi- 
dently catching  very  tender 
words,  and  the  very  youngest, 
as  the  speaker's  hand  was  laid 
on  its  clustering  hair,  wonder- 
ing at  the  awful  beauty  in  his 
face.  It  was  Jesus  in  the 
midst)  in  the  act  of  speaking 
these  well-known  words — 
**  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not : 
for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
God  I " 

The  other  picture  was  a 
picture  of  pain  and  sorrow. 
Darkness  was  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  and  out  of  the  black 
heavens  streamed  long  flakes 
of  white  lightning,  with  their 
zig-zag  shoots  partly  lighting 
up  the  foreground.  Several 
figures,  both  of  men  and 
women,  were  seen  dimly,  as 
if  struck  with  terror,  grovelling 
in  the  dust — while  above  them 
rose  three  crosses;  the  one 
on  the  right  and  the  other  on 
the  lettf   with   the    diooping 

bodies  hanana  on  them,  o^ 
16 


but  hid  in  the  gl 
cross  in  the  mid 
out  in   awful  vi 
thereon    nailed 
death  agony  was 
whose  face  was  11 
to  heaven,  and  oi 
there    was    prest 
cruel  crown  of  th< 
it   was  Jesus:  l 
in  the  act  of  sp 
anguish-  stricken 
God,  my  God,  wl: 
forsaken  me  ?  " 

The  little  od 
had  gazed  for  jl 
now  at  this  pici 
that,  just  then 
whisper  from  an 
panion  behind  hii 
these  pictures  the 
fruit  of  the  Spiri 
unquenchable  lovi 
in  the  littles  of  lij 
in  the  great  ago 
You  know  what 
says  of  love:  **! 
cannot  quench  1 
can  the  floods  drc 
it  was  with  Jesus 
so  with  each  e 
comes  to  learn  in 
Jesus?  Is  the 
that  so  wrought  in 
in  that  scholar's 
sent  in  your  hea 
it  each  day  to  loi 


THE  SABBATH  BGHOLAB'S  TBBJLSUBT. 


by  that  test,  and  see  if  yon  are 
yielding  up  to  God  this  first 
fruit  of  His  Spirit — Love  ! 

CHAPTER  u. 

One  of  our  pupils  was  a 
wonder  to  his  class-mates — 
not  with  anything  particular 
about  him  to  strike  one  at 
first,  but,  as  you  became  ac- 
quainted with  him,  most  sin- 
gularly interesting,  from  the 
light  of  perpetual  sweetness  in 
his  face  and  manner.  No- 
thing seemed  ever  to  discon- 
cert him,  nothing  to  break  his 
even  happiness,  nothing  to 
darken  the  clear  brightness  of 
his  smile.  •*  I  caimot  guess," 
said  one  of  his  neighbours,  in 
a  whisper  to  another,  "  why 
he  is  neyer  out  of  temper,  and 
why,  compared  with  some  of 
us,  he  is  always  so  very  happy. 
It  looks  sometimes  positively 
Billy." 

•  I  had  overheard  the  whisper, 
and  so  I  took  my  little  friend 
with  me  a  short  time  out  of 
doors  that  afternoon,  thinking 
how  I  should  explain  the 
secret  to  him  best.  When,  all 
at  once,  by  the  best  luck  pos- 
sible, far  out  on  the  white 
dusty  road,  and  just  by  some 
/cottagers'  doors,  we  beheld  a 
light  agile  figure  dancing  in 
the  smiBhme.  As  it  gkipped 
io  and  fto  in  gAj  coloars,  and 


with  great  merriment,  I  caught 
his  arm,  and  pointing  onward, 
said — "  You  see  yonder  girl 
wheeling  so  prettily  in  her 
dance.  At  this  distance  yon 
hear  nothing,  you  only  tee; 
you  see  the  strange  wild  mo- 
tions, but  you  cannot  tell  what 
their  cause  is,  and  you  would 
really  think  the  dancer  mad. 
Now  let  us  hurry  on,  and  we 
shall  find  out."  Accordingly 
I  took  his  hand,  and  on  we 
hastened,  till,  as  we  got  within 
a  few  paces  of  the  scene,  there 
fell  upon  our  ears  some  very 
sweet  and  thrilling  strains, 
and,  on  coming  nearer  yet,  we 
found,  by  the  wayside,  a  poor 
blind  man,  pouring  out  from  a 
little  instrument  he  bore  the 
softest,  most  joyous  music, 
to  the  rise  and  fall  of  which 
his  girl  merrily  danced. 
"  Now,"  I  added,  **  we  no 
longer  think  her  mad,  we 
hear  the  music  she  hears,  and 
are  so  glad  at  heart,  we  might, 
if  we  could,  dance  too."  So 
when  we  had  looked  amongst 
the  little  crowd  awhile,  and 
given  our  mite  for  the  pleasure 
we  had  shared,  we  walked  on, 
and  I  could  not  but  say  to  my 
young  companion,  **You  are 
at  the  bottom  of  the  secret  now 
you  so  wished  to  l53i<y«  ^Sdm^ 
moTsing.     Xo\it  ^on'^.et^  ^ 


\ 


TSB  ftABBATS  SOBOLJLB'l  TBXlfilTSZ. 


snile,  and  you  think  it  sonke- 
times  foolish.  Only  get  near 
eixoagh  to  hiia-^-get  within 
hearing  of  the  music  he  hears 
— 'back  -within  his  heart,  where 
he  loves  the  name  of  Jesus 
deariy,  where  he  breathes  the 
prayer  of  his  love  often,  where 
tba  Spirit,  in  the  softest 
music,  sheds  the  words  of 
Jesus  throu^  his  soulr^-and 


yoit  will  ho  kmger  wdnder- 
you  will  wonder  rather  the 
you  ever  wondered— yon  wi 
ask  that  you  too  may  hai 
springing  in  your  heart  thi 
second  fruit  of  the  Spirit^ 
Joy/"* 

*  I  am  indebted  for  fbe  Unt 
this  Chapter  to  a  beantlflil  pa| 
in    that    beantifol    book,    ''tl 
Pattonoe  ot  Hope." 


TB£  cSange.  I  teachers   were    landing,   I 

ITTLE  more  than  a    Williams  saw,  we  are  tnd,  fl 

garter  of  a  eentury  i  smoke  and  flames  dL  bmnb 

ago,  that  noble  stan-    villages    and    plantations  : 

the  distance,  which  a  par 
having  conquered  in  a  dead 
war  had  just  kindled.    B' 


dard-bearer  of  the 
cross,  *'  John  Williams,"  took 
the  first  teachers  to  the  Samoan 

or  Navigator's  Islands  in  the  '  such  sights  have  long  sin. 
South  Pacific  Ocean.    These    ceased  there,  and  we  trust  f 


men  were  natives  of  other 
islands,  where  they  had  been 
brought  to  know  Jesus.  It 
was  at  the  risk  of  their  lives 
they  now  went  to  these  islands 
of  savages  in  a  ship  built  by 
the  above-named  martyred 
missionary.  It  was  called 
the   "Messenger  of   Peace." 


ever.  The  Croapel  ha$  tr 
umphedJ  The  idols  a 
abolished.  This  *<kingdoi 
of  darkness"  is  now  ptft  ' 
the  kingdom  of  "  (Jod's  d« 
Son."  Qii^l8,scbool-h(ms« 
and  other  signs  of  this  gm 
change  are  everywhere  to  b 
Thousands  from  Sal) 


,  seen. 

Well-named;  for  it  sailed  from    bath  to  Sabbath  flock  to  th 
island  to  island,  carrying  to  :  sanctuary  to  meet  the  King  ^ 
them    heralds    of    salvation,  i  Glory  and  hear  His  owd  HH* 
At    that    time  the   Samoans 
bowed  down    before    sharks^ 
gnakeSf     hirds^     and     otJier 
creatures,  praying   to  them. 


and  singing  praisei  to  them, 


sage,  which  alone  **iiMk> 
wise  unto  salvation;"  tf| 
read  His  own  blessed  Book 
in  their  own  langnagOt  ? 
^\i\Ci\i  there  was  not  one 


hecauae  they  believed  them  to  \  -wtlttetk  -^"Victi  %awfit  'Cbi^  "«* 
be    gods.      And    irbile    th&\  bVoxloxV^^xcai^^^^k^ 
18 


Tint  Upoltt  or 
of  the  other  six 
lia  gtaap,  and 
]^B  there,  jdh 

Btnuit^  proofii 
E  ChruliaiL  mU- 

!Tet     JDQ     W«Dt^ 

rould  be  filled 
liUa^e  after  Til- 
y  HsliiteB  you 
g>  DD  }'0D  from 
d  at  Beoing  ao 
£  the  proBperity 
I  work  in  tbe 
the  people, 


"/ 


arth    i 


Firat  I 
astoniabal    a, 


thsBohool  roooiH  thepnntuig 
houBce  fl  mjaaon  bonnea 
imd&t  ^pis  at  the  iDBtitntioii 
or  colle),e  for  tnimmg  natmei 
to  become  paetflta  and  teacheti 
in  their  uwn  land,  and  mt»- 
nioHories  to  the  htatlifn,  joo 
iioiild  be  delighted  tn  Bee  Bome 
of  Iha  bnilditigs,  vMch  are 
really  bo  ffie!  On  tlw  H»b- 
batb  jnn  would  Bee  Sod's 
bonne  filled,  not  icith  Daked 
savages,  but  vith  a  iceU- 
ilremeit  and  atterttiye  congre- 
gation-—  a  people  "  dothed 
and  in  their  right  mind."  On 
the  week-da;,  if  yon  look  into 
the  BihoolH,  yon  will  eeo  the 

j  ftuldreDoscLtiettnl.'aii&^iay^, 
AB  well  tauglit  and  hr  loni  ol 

Jeainiijg  as  anj  in  RtoUani. 

Nor  would  joa  p»aii  M 


!rHE  SABBATH  SOHOIiAB'S  TB^ASUBT. 


printing-office  without  looking 
in,  and  seeing  how  busy  the 
native  printers  are  in  setting 
up  the  types,  preparing  the 
paper,  and  working  the  press. 
But  take  a  peep  in  now  at  the 
Imtitutioiii  and  you  will  see 
nearly  seventy  Christian  men 
(and  the  wives  of  many  of 
them),  some  of  these  sitting 
in  classes  around  the  mis- 
sionary, others  preparing  their 
lessons;  some,  after  these 
tasks,  in  the  carpenter's  shop, 
or  at  the  blacksmith's  forge, 
while  the  rest  are  digging,  or 
planting,  or  hoeing  in  the 
fields  around  the  college. 
These  good  men  raise  food 
enough  for  themselves  and 
families ;  and  hence  it  is  that 
their  training  costs  very  little 
to  the  Society  (the  London 
Missionary).  The  Samoan 
Institution  has  proved  a 
fountain  of  living  waters.  Not 
only  has  it  given  pastors  and 
teachers  to  the  numerous 
villages  throughout  the  group, 
but  many  of  the  best  native 
missionaries  to  Western  Poly- 
nesia were  trained  in  that 
college. 

Jrhat  a  contrast  to  the 
exertions  of  the  Church  m£m- 
hers  in  any  town  or  parish  in 
Scotland  is  the  following : — 

These,  numbering  from 
30,000  to  40,000,  who  but  so 
lately  were  poor  |)oor  savages. 
and  worshippers  of  beasts  and 
pieces  of  wood  and  stone,  have,  I 
at  last  report,  contributed,  for 
the  year,  at  their  212  village 
BtaUoBB  along  with  theii  prin- 
cip&l  ones,  no  less  a  som.  tliaa 

30 


£1490,  14s.  8d.,  bes: 
sums  for  missions 
islands.  About  £50C 
appear,  has  been  seni 
them  for  Bibles,  to  1 
through  the  islands 
that  ocean  ;  and  furl 
give  of  their  educa 
to  hazard  their  livei 
sionaries  of  the 
Christ,  who  by  His 
Spirit  changes  the 
the  lamb.  Indeed  th 
received  by  that  one 
from  those  who  were 
and  savages  before 
mencement,  at  the 
last  century — or  ra 
the  battle  of  Water 
which  it  got  free  i 
almost  pacing  wort 
averages  now  no  lefi 
than  Sixteen  thousan 
a  year!  Besides,  ho 
number  of  young,  u 
contributors  have 
yet  willingly,  given 
peril  their  lives  amc 
savages,  so  as  to  b: 
within  their  reach  th< 
Gospel  of  the  Grace 
Oh  that  Scotland; 
favoured,  loud-profesf 
land!  would  remen: 
to  whom  much  is  [ 
them  also  much  sha 
quired !  What  ei 
ment  to  all  the  Chi 
Christ,  prayerfully  8 
getically  to  *'  go  ft 
and  to  our  youthhood 
in  this  blessed  servic 
the  King  of  Kings 
mises,  **  Be  thou  fedt 


CRa  B4BBASB  SOBOLIB'S  TBXA8UBT. 


IfeatH  i0ite  fol^t  slit  covXii.** 


was  this  ?  It  is 
ery  simple  story, 
ins  sat  at  meat 
yt  one  Simon  a 
the  East  at  this 
was  Borroanded 
on  which  the 
d,  so  that,  while 
ied.  towards  the 
)  company,  His 
»yer  in  the  couch 
there  it  was  a 
bearing  a  very 
ointment,  a  box 
e  pearly  white 
.  breaking  it,  so 
B  flowed  out,  she 
first  on  His  feet, 
haps  encouraged 
ier  glance,  ad- 
sr,  and  poured 
Sis  head.  The 
B  up  and  filled 
m.  Whereupon 
hearts,  at  table 
sgan  to  mnrmur 
I's  forwardness, 
iraste.    "  No  1 " 


all  the  wealth  she  had  in  the 
world,  so  she  pours  out  on  me 
all  the  loTe  within  her  heart. 
The  two  things  go  together. 
Sfie  hath  done  what  the 
could/"  And  so  He  praised 
the  woman,  while  He  put  the 
murmurers  to  silence  and  to 
shame. 
Now  is    that    sentence   of 


Christ  not  a  golden  rule,  worth 
writing  up,  wherever  they  that 
love  Him  turn  their  eyes? 
Try  a  few  things  by  its  mea- 
sure and  see  how  blessed  you 
weuld  be,  suppose  you  heard 
it  spoken  to  you  in  the  very 
tone  and  tenderness  in  which 
the  woman  heard  it. 

Pleasing  and  obeying  your 
parents, — No  fretfulness;  no 
grudge  to  take  trouble  for 
them;  no  angry  brows;  no 
forgetting  of  their  wishes  ;  no 
concealing  from  them  of  the 
truth;  no  doing  or  speaking 
anything  beyond  their  sight 
you  would  not  do  and  speak 
,  who  knew  their  before  their  very  eyes.  None  ? 
vious  thoughts ;  No !  Each  day  "  you  have 
I  be  waste  that  '  done  what  you  could  I  " 

me.     Nothing  I      Daily  praying  to  and  fear- 
that  shows  such    iug    God.  —  No    ne^ect    of 
roman  hath  for  /  prayer,  omitting  it  aUQg;e;\i]tiBC    \ 
be  pours  out  on  '  one  tinae  in  your  \iot.  Yibx^a,  ot     \ 
te  of  this  boXf  '  hurrying  it  over  a&  tti©  gteaiws*.     \ 

^^       ^ 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOIlAB'B  TBBASUXT.. 


task  another  time,  and  yet  a 
thing  fov.  daofe  not  altogether 
leave  off;  no  shutting  out  of 
God  wilfully  from  your  hearts ; 
no  forgetting  of  His  presence 
either  in  your  school  or  play 
hours;  no  unholy  words, 
deeds,  passions,  indulged  in, 
that  you  know  right  well  are 
hatefsl  in  the  sight  of  God, 
who  seeth  all  ?  None  ?  No  ! 
Each  day  "  you  have  done 
what  you  could  I " 

Diligence  and  cheerfulness 
in  children's  duties.  —  No 
impatience  with  your  teachers, 
or  your  lessons ;  no  sluggish- 
ness  over  your  work,  either  in 
the  class  or  at  home ;  no 
imgentleness,  and  rudeness, 
and  ingratitude,  in  return  to 
those  who  take  so  many  pains 
to  do  you  good ;  no  lateness 
in  your  hours,  or  blundering, 
or  sulky  gloom  1  None  ? 
No  !  Each  day  **  you  have 
done  what  you  could  I " 

Kindness  to  one  another. — 
No  envy  of  your  play-fellows' 


Jesus,  but  the  ch 
afidofthedevQ? 
Each  day    "you 
what  you  could  I  * 

Giving  in  th 
Jesus. — No  keepi 
for  your  own  pooi 
no  grudge  when  y 
to  share  it  out  r 
your  fellows,  so 
them  happy  in  it 
getting  of  the  grec 
with  Christ  loved 
ing  down  His  o' 
the  cross  for  you 
back  of  the  hau 
drop  your  penny 
sionary-box ;  no 
to  pour  out  your  • 
love  and  in  deeds 
fice,  that  you  mi^ 
love  back  for  Jesi 
ing  rather  to  kee] 
it  all  up  for  youi 
lavish  it  on  oth 
so  much  useless  f 
No!  Each  day 
dom  what  you-  c 

I  have  put  all 
and  I  might  put 


happiness  or   good   fortune; 
no  coveting  of  anything  they    at  random^  just 
possess ;    no  mean,  spiteiul,  '  my  little  readei 
cowardly,     selfish      outbreak  i  very  fax  the  bes 
against  them,  or  against  any    children  may  be 
one ;    no    unlovely   tempers,  |  by   His    golden 
making    all    about   you,    as  i  much  they   best 
/      well    08   yourself,    unhappy,  I  how    little    they 
/     and  tem.'pting  one    to  thinX  ^  ttt^di  "^xvx  ou\>  cm. 
/     ytm  were   not   the  ohM  oi  \  -50^  tvoN,  \C!ba  ^ 

i-     ^  


TEE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBA8UBT. 


Kmetkmg  like  that  woman, 
iriwB  H«  ^uised  for  her 
pure  and  oTerflowmg  love! 
Then  why  not  try,  each 
%,  the  whole  day's  work 
>&d  temper  by  the  words 
JesuBBpofceofher?  Why  not, 
every  new  day,  get  a  step 
j  higher  in  your  love  and  prayer, 
BO  that  if  for  a  long  while,  you 


be  only,  as  it  were,  laying  yonr 
gifts  at  the  feet  of  Jesas,  yon 
may,  by  and  bye,  reach  up  and 
pour  them  on  His  head.  At 
first  He  may  only  say — "  You 
are  trying  and  have  tried 
what  you  could;'*  but  may 
end  with  saying  at  the  last — 
*'  Well  done,  beloved  child,  you 
have  dojie  what  you  could !  ' 


^it  mnuv  of  pa 


HEN  Jesus  made 
known  the  way  of 
salvation  to  the 
woman  of  Samaria 
fJeha  It.),  He  used  the 
^Wem  01  water t  as  ttie  best 
fitted  for  her  case.  His  words 
ve  fall  of  precious  lessons  to 
^  &I1,  and  would  that  they 
<^e  home  to  us  with  as 
saving  efficacy,  as  when  spo- 
ken at  Jacob's  well. 

One  lesson  He  taught  is : — 
'^vanity  of  er^try thing  short 
0/  God.  "  Whosoever  drink- 
6th  0!  this  water  shall  thirst 
again."  The  body  soon  needs 
refredunent  anew.  The  objects 
}t  seeks  are,  in  like  manner, 
iDiperfect  and  soon  exliausted, 
^  that  its  desires  are  never 
^y  satisfied,  but  only  put  off 
^or  a  time.  The  same  words 
acquire  a  very  sad  meaning 
'^hen  applied  to  the  soul,  for 
>i^  is  fallen,  and  all  thing 4 
^boutbhn  tainted  and  blighted 
bf  sin.      This    woman    had 


sought  happiness  in  forbidden 
joys.  She  had  forsaken  God, 
the  fountain  of  living  waters, 
and  drunk  at  broken  cisterns 
and  polluted  streams.  Even 
so  by  many  more  the  cup  of 
sinfid  pleasure  is  drained  a 
thousand  times  over,  and  as 
often  thrown  down  in  bitter 
disgust. 

But  there  are  other  streams 
of  happiness,  ])ure,  noble,  and 
abundant.  The  great  Creator 
has  filled  this  world  \dth  things 
beautiful  and  good.  Still, 
though  man  c^iild  grasp  all 
these  rich  and  countless  bless - 
ingM,  though  he  gained  the 
whole  world,  what  would  it 
profit  him  ?  They  are  all  too 
little  to  satisfy  his  immortal 
soul.  "  He  that  driuketh  of 
this  water  shall  thirst  again." 

It  is  written  on  everything 
man  loves  here  below — ieoJkJOa., 
wealth,  wisdom,  iaiae,  lAeu^- 
ship,  power.    Yea  laoxe,  \a  \^ 
not     inscribed,     u^on    ^0^1% 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB^S  TSSASUBt* 


blessed  word,  on  the  table  of 
commimioii,  on  the  house  of 
prayer,  and  on  the  closet  where 
the  belieyer  pours  out  his  heart 
in  the  secret  of  His  presence  ? 
Means  of  grace  are  all  but 
streams,  which  guide  us  up 
nearer  the  great  Fountain 
Head. 

Another  lesson  is,  that  God 
is  the  highest  and  the  only 
satisfying  portion  of  man, 
"Whosoever  drinketh  of  the 
water  that  I  shall  give  him 
shall  never  thirst,"  &c.  The 
words  "  living  water  "  are  used 
here  as  elsewhere  in  Scrip- 
ture (John  vii.  39,  Isaiah  xliv. 
3)  for  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God. 
It  is  He  alone  who  can  meet 
the  wants  of  the  soul ;  for  it 
is  only  Uiat  which  is  perfect 
that  can  satisfy,  and  as  the 
soul  of  man  is  immortal,  so 
the  Spirit  of  God  is  not  only 
its  sufficient,  but  its  everlast- 
ing portion.  To  use  a  Scrip- 
ture emblem,  man  is  a  vessel, 
A  vessel  of  infinite  capacity. 
The  ungodly  seek  to  fiill  this 
great  void  by  letting  down 
their  poor  buckets,  and  draw- 
ing from  the  broken  cisterns 
of  their  own  hewing,  but  all 
in  vain.  On  the  contrary,  the 
*'  chosen  vessel  "  of  Christ, 
turning  away  from  all  these^ 
opens  his  mouth    wide   and 


IGodfiUsit.   Thel 
are  poured  into 
soul,  filling  it  wi 
peace,   and  "spii 
again  in  joyful  al 
longingfor  the  orig 
0  blessed  thirst  I 
water  I       The    re 
gloxj  all  drank  of 
they  thirst  no  mon 

One  lesson  mo 
Jesus  and  He  aUn 
us  the  Holy  Spiri 
He  will  give  Him, 
to  prayer.  In 
with  the  woman, 
times  over  declared 
be  the  giver  of  the  1 
No  earthly  well  ca: 
only  He  '*  in  who 
aU  the  fulness  ol  tl 
bodily."  This  gi 
the  Spirit  He  pni 
us  by  His  death.  I 
to  heaven  to  best 
possession  is  a  mar] 
true  people,  for  " 
have  not  the  spiri 
he  is  none  of  His.' 

0,  then,  listen  to 
of  Jesus:  "If  any 
let  him  come  un 
drink."  His  last 
from  heaven  to  a  < 
is  :  "  Let  liim  tha 
come ;  and  whosoe 
him  take  the  wa 
freely." 


S'LL  praise  my  Maker  with  my  breat 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  deat 
Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  p 
My  days  of  pridse  ahaW.  ne^et  \>^  ^a&V 
Wliile  life,  and  thougViV  aadXx&uvgXa&V^ 
Or  immortality  eaduiea. 


1«tB  AUBUa  BCaOUB'B  TBUilCBC 

H^^H  1  //■ 

^^^■^^^B, 

l^v 

^tBp^ 

^^^^Bj^m 

^gjk) 

^^ 

ffife^  g  tt^  6r 

tftj. 

many  days  Binee.  |  of  Engls 

jid.     UpvardBoftvo 

□f  the  moat  fright-  |  hnndreil  men   and   boys   h&d 
accidents  perhaps  !  goDe    down   the   shafl  many 
In  connexion  irith  ,  fathoms    deep,   early  in    the      [ 
•k  place,  as  many  ;  forenoon,  for  Uiolr  dKj'aiiai^.    \ 
bsye  betid,  al ,  — Ihej  were  w&j  «»  *'^  ^" 
lesin  ibe North  /  doffn  .cav^nu,   we  iftSfl   w«li_ 


IHB  SABBJlTS  BCKOLAB^B.  IBBA8UBY* 


suppose,  their  little  lamps  lit 
and  stuck  each  upon  Ite 
wearer's  forehead — and  i^  th* 
crew  groping  asid  hucHhg 
with  their  pickaxes  among  the 
gleaming  jet;.  Suddenly  an 
immense  iron  heam,  whidd  waa* 
the  arm  of  a  colossal  pooip, 
and  hung  over  the  very  centre 
of  the  shaft,  for  the  purpose  of 
raising  up  the  waters  which 
flow  incessantly  into  the  pit's 
depths,  snapped  in  its  middle, 
and  the  one  half,  weighing 
twenty  tons  or  so,  plunged 
into  the  throat  of  the  shaft, 
carrying  with  it  ruin  and  dark- 
ness, and  choking  up  the 
passage-way  to  every  living 
soul  helow.  What  a  swift  and 
awful  grave  !  Nothing  can 
ever  he  told  of  what  was  the 
horror  underneath.  For  days 
gangs  of  workers  plied  the 
task  of  cutting  down  through 
the  ruin  in  the  shaft ;  and,  at 
first,  repeated  sounds,  as  of 
the  poor  prisoners  signalling 
and  crying  from  below,  were 
heard ;  but  the  work  was  long 
and  perilous,  and  when  at 
last,  after  nearly  a  week,  a 
way  was  cut  through,  and 
several  heroic  men  descended 
into  the  vast  coal  seam,  alas 
it  was  all  silence,  desolation, 
death.  The  dead  men  lay  in 
rows.     All  along  the  gallery 

thejr  were  strewn,  as  the  goa- 
26 


\ 


poison  from  thel 
h*dBtanick  them 
0B»mft  taxed  ali 

VeAsfB  «M  • 
tkmdking  incida 
seesaof  awftdass 
a  father,,  who,,  tiki 
ing,  had  taken  I 
with  him  for  the 
show  him  the  w< 
pit — and  who  ha 
by  the  cage  into  t 
an  hour  before 
took  place.  Ct 
picture  to  yoursel 
end  to  the  poor  I 
tion — the  hopes  tl 
kindled  by  his  faH 
— ^the  eager  haste 
he  snatched  his  n 
— ^ran  by  his  fath 
dreaming  that  he 
mother's  face  for  tl 
stepped  into  the  < 
ingly,  and,  on  i 
voyage,  found  hi 
ing  away  into  the  j 
Hardly  had  he  b 
in  the  strange  w< 
guided  through  tl: 
corridors — at  evei 
a  miner  plied  his 
a  dancing  spot  oi 
ing  strange  cries, 
it  all,  no  doubt, 
(xrim    wonder,   w 


9tti  fliBBim  «<atoLiB*i  tbxaauby; 


romabove^therewas  a 
\ffB  dead  iQ)pidl]iig  fli- 
-and  then,  as  leet  hor- 
t  the  shaft  from  eyeiy 
'  of  lilie  pit,  one  long 
terriltle  dei^air.  Yfho 
think  of  the  weeping 
he  father's  ann  roond 
at  had  no  power  to  save« 
e  slow  death  of  manj 
that  came  to  both  alike 
leap,  deep  j^Yei  Wh# 
think  of  the  mother's 

I  in  her  cottage  when 
rd  the  news ;  and  now, 

II  the  crowd  that  ran 
a  the  grave's  mouth, 
i,  eould  well  be  more 

than  hers  who  sor- 
)r  her  lost  child ! 
it  is  not,  dear  reader, 
m  you  needlessly  with 
of  woe,  that  I  write 
ines.  No;  but  just, 
>u  are  brooding  softly 
ly  oyer  the  feite  of  that 
oy,  you  may  think, 
rour  other  thoughts,  of 
dug  deeper  and  dfu*ker 
1  the  one  in  which  he 
led ;  and  swinging  into 
ou  may  thoughtlessly 
ending.  I  mean  the 
sin — the  grave  of  the 
rted  heart,  in  which 
B  not  known,  and  the 
His  fetce  is  shut  oat. 
andJiUh — ongsUipA 


!  day — ^how,  if  you  are  off  your 
'  guard,  JOB    may    go    down 
I  thither  I     Nay,  many,  in  their 
I  eager   youth,    may   wish    to 
I  pierce  into  the  wonders  and 
I  the  novel  pleasures  of  its  dark- 
'  ness,  for  it  is  switching  tiling 
!  to  get  into  company  with  all 
I  the  promises  and  baits,  with 
I  wMch  the  devil  leads  on  in 
'  sin.    But  ah,  the  word  of  God, 
recoUect,  tells  you,  that  the 
:  steps  of  such  "  take  hold  on 
I  helL**  What  pit  can  be  deeper 
I  or  more  terrible  than  that! 
I  Think,   therefore,   that    your 
,  very    first    steps    aside,    the 
I  stolen  waters  of  any  sin  tiiat 
I  are  so  sweet,  and  the  bread 
eaten  in  secret  that  is  so  plea> 
sant,  that  these  are  the  begin- 
nings of  descent,  whose  end, 
if  you  heed  not,  is  not  the 
body's   death    only,   but    the 
soul's  also.       Oh !    there  is 
none  can  deliver  you  but  Him, 
who  can  make  even  the  grave 
give  up  its  dead  —  who  came 
especially  to  seek  and  to  save 
that  which  was  lost,  but  yet 
who  says,  as  if  He  would  rather 
prevent  you  at  the  outset,  than 
have  you  run  all  lengths,  and 
perhi^  all    but   tempt   His 
grace  utterly  away — "I  lovte 
them  that  love  Me  ;  and  they 
that  s«ek  me  early  ^^211  ^<i 
UeV 


«i 


TBE^  8ABft419l  9CHOLAB'8:TBBABXi;S]rf 


(&adb  an^  €i)il  at  %  fanb  of  4i( 


'HAT !     shaU    we  ! 
receive    good    at  ! 
the  liand  of  God,  | 
and  shall  we  not 
receive   evil?"      These    were 
ihe  words  of    the    patriarch 
Job,  who  perhaps  experienced 
greater  measnres  of  prosperity 
and  adversity  than  any  other 
man  who  ever  lived. 

When  he  uttered  them,  he 
was  in  the  midst  of  his  sorest 
distress.     The  good  he  spoke 
of    was  all  gone.      He   had 
^been  **  the  greatest  of  all  the 
men  of  the  East."    Then,  his 
^eep,  and  ox«i,  and  asses, 
and  camels,  were  coonted  by 
hundreds  and  thousands,  and 
he  had  a  large  and  prosperous 
family.     With  such  lofty  rank, 
such  vast    wealth,   so    many 
friends,  how  happy  must   he 
have  been  ?   But  he  possessed, 
besides  all  these,  the  noblest  : 
jBpurce  of  happiness  as  well.  | 
He  was  not  only  very  great,  ; 
but  very  good.      The    Lord  , 
'Himself  said  of-  him — **  there  '■ 
'-is  none   like    Job  in  fJl  the 
'«arth,  a  perfect  and  an  upright 
.man,  one  that  feareth  God  and 
.escheweth  evil."    And  so  He 
Uessed  Job  much,  because  He 
loved  him  much. 

But  it  pleased  €kMi,  in  His 
iwisdom  and  love,  to  send  evil 
cupon  Job.  In  one  short  day 
he  was  bereft  of  all,  and'  left 
desolate  and  childless.  Bands  : 
oftohhers  eame  suddenly  upon  ' 
his  oxen,  his  asses,  aiid  Ads 
camels,  and  droTe  them  aw«y, 


leaving  the  servarn 
tended  them  dead.  Tb 
fire  of  God"  fell  from 
and  destroyed  his  si 
and  tiieir  flocks  i 
And  last  and  worst  of 
sons  and  daughters  we 
ing  in  their  eldest  1 
house,  when  a  storm  f 
great  that  the  house  y 
thrown.  Suddenly, 
warning,  their  yom 
were  quenched,  theii 
voices  hushed,  and  the 
their  holiday  rejoici 
changed  into  their 
Oh !  what  terrible 
must  now  have  wn 
father's  heart!  Hith 
had  been  silent ;  but  h< 
he  bear  this  awful 
ment  ?  However,  v 
only,  "Then  Job  tan 
rent  his  mantle,  and 
his  head,  and  fell  doi 
the  ground  and  wors] 
uttering  these  sublim 
of  resignation — ^word 
have  often  since  then 
with  the  mourner's 
"  The  Lord  gave,  audi 
hath  taken  away;  bl< 
the  name  of  the  Lord. 
But  to  these  awful 
ties  another  was  add 
it  came  upon  his  ow 
Covered  from  head 
with  frightfol  disease, 
down  '"  among  the 
and  hushed  his  heart  ii 
-under   the   mighty   1: 


•  VHB  SiAAXH  S0HOT.iE*»  TBMASUWt, 


at  the  flight  of  his 
Inees  (for  he  mu  bo 
that  **  they  knew  him 
bat  "  they  lifted  np 
ice  and  wept."  For 
)iig  days  and  nights 
itod  and  watched,  hat 
d  with  grief  and 
ent,  no  one  spoke, 
th  a  cry  hroke  from 
3rer*s  lips.  It  was  a 
1  wail  of  lamentation, 
the  day  of  his  hirth, 
mestly  longing  for 
o  end  his  sorrows. 
:ered  him  condolence, 
r  vain  in  such  seasons 
V  is  friendly  sympathy. . 
ich  hetter  often  to  be 
le  with  God.  Hence 
aching  entreaty  Job 
)d  to  his  thoughtless 
jrs, — "  Have  piiy  on 
my  friends,  have  pity 
for  the  hand  of  God 
iched  me."     The  hand 

Ah !  how  often  does 
id  toach  us,  when  least 
lid  desire  it.  Oar 
possessions  it  does  not 
Biches  fly  away^-the 
•f  manhood  is  changed 
e  than  an  infant's 
IBS — our  friends,  whose 
re  knit  with  oars  in 
ey  too  must  be  given 
e  gives :  He  takes : 
be  His  name.  It  is 
d  of  God,    We  may 

the  reason  of  His 
yet  He  never  smites 
n  love.  So  when  our 
would  tempt  us  to 
if  His  correction,  let 
ember  Job's  patient  / 
ien  Ms  wife,  wbp  sank  • 


utterly  imfler  the  weight  of 
sorrow,  foolishly  bade  him 
complain — **  What,  shall  we  re- 
ceive good  at  the  hand  of  God, 
and  shall  we  not  receive  evil  f  ** 

And  he  did  again  enjoy 
good.  When  God  had  proved 
him,  and  taught  him  precious 
lessons,,  and  made  him  a 
pattern  to  the  worid  of  patient 
endurance.  He  raised  Job 
again  to  double  his  former 
prosperity ;  and  he  lived  long 
in  the  midst  of  such  earthly 
happiness,  as  has  hardly  been 
known  since  the  davs  of  Eden. 

God  directs  the  lot  of  every 
man.  Our  experience  must  be 
very  different  from  Job's,  yet 
would  that  we  all  had  his  piety ; 
then  both  our  good  and  oar 
evil  would  be  felt  by  us  to  be 
what  they  really  are,  bless- 
ings, tokens  of  His  love.  Our 
heavenly  Father,  who  duly 
measures  out  the  cold  and 
heat,  the  storm  and  calm,  the 
darkness  and  sunshine,  needed 
to  bring  the  flowers  and  fruits 
of  earUi  to  maturity,  alone 
knows  what  measure  of  joy 
and  sorrow  His  children  re> 
quire  to  prepare  them  for 
ei^joying  at  length  the  un- 
clouded happiness  of  heaven* 
So  then  our  evil  things  should 
be  borne  with  patient  and 
cheerful  submission,  and  our 
good  things  enjoyed  with 
grateful,  sober  gla^ess;  for 
we  receive  both  alike  at  the 
hand  of  God. 

Dear  young   reader,    king 
Solomon  has  left  lot  -^ow.  ^ 
very  solemn  'word,  oi  ^«xmii% 
on  this  Bubiect — ^''  BAmem^^x, 


TB^ftAMULia  BKmVUM'M-mMABIUmf' 


.  .    ijmrmr- 


4>ov  ibr  Creator  In  ili«  dugw 
of  thy  gwuttu  avfii^  ths  svU 
4<fifi$  seme  noV*  Tha  levil 
A»yB  I  AIm  !  idjyey  fire  ^  aUxre 
for  you*  borrow  ^viU  meet 
yon  yet  in  mBtaj  fonns. 
Thecefm  oov,  in  your  happy 
ihotightlesB  days,  do  Aot  lot- 
get  Him.  Be  thii  your  bx- 
peiieiijcec-^ 

>^Oiyft  'What  Than  yrflt,  vlfhrnrt 

TMe4  X  tun  poo;r, 
j^nt  with  Tboe  jlol),— ta](9  w|\ftt 
l^ou^taway." 


Only  jOnm  «0fl»i9 
]iieuBiil^f^k>4«villF< 
be  iMietiM  «iM 
your  ^*  evU'*  mij 
truest  joy.  ¥/•*, 
pass  thjcoiigb  Hm  is 
shadow  of  deaUi,  y 
no  evil,  for  He  will  1 
to  guide  aa»d  welco] 
His  presence,  wh^ 
fulness  fit  joy,  an 
right  hfl&d  are  pi/ 
jerermon. 


ffife^  lirtiit  of  t|<  ^^idJ 


/ 


GQAPrBB  III, 

'£  walked  along  the 
public  way,  after 
it  liad  been  al^ 
4ay  a  deluge  of  wiitd  an^  rsln. 
The  gutter  at  the  roadside 
ran  like  a  torrent,  and  its 
fnuddy  waters  fonned  here 
and  there,  wherever  any  stone 
jor  other  obstacle  stopped  their 
course,  into  dar^  aogryi-leojltr 
ing  pools,  bubbling  and  swirlr 
ing  at  ouF  feet.  Presently  a 
^rea]^  in  the  clouds  let  out 
glimpses  of  the  blue  sky-*— tlie 
wind  £e)i  |ow*^the  raiu  weotoff 
OR  the  hiUs-^and  the  sweet 
•mnmer  evening  aun  shone 
on  the  valley,  with  a  burst  of 
beauty,  S<jll  the  angj7  ^r- 
reut«  by  the  fae4Me  bn4tle4 
fitt    tiba   atonM;    aiiA   wfaaVe 


fif^ry  ^blBg  else 
BO 


in  ^f  evening  glow 
turbid  pools  gave  1 
flection,  but  a  hn 
upon  their  surface 
rest  all  mud  and 
J  coul4  not  butpo 
lessor.  '^  There,"  £ 
companion,  "is the 
the  heart  swollen  an 
by  angry  passions 
rush,  into  it  and  i 
of  iha  base,  and  1 
unh<^y  currents  of 
and  of  fihx  ;  there  : 
x^annot  be,  either  qi 
clearness  in  its  de 
when  the  sun  of  hea 
on  it — ^when  iihe 
word  of  Christ  light< 
all  confused  and  bi 
pnthe  twurfa^«;int 


lAilatkmg  \  «M$^\..'^ 


■esouJiVi  nwfl  un. 


Hkaietf  si  te  lieart  pure  and 
paaeefil  in  Om  rtigfat  of  God. 
It  liM  genHy  modest  in  its 
retirantoi,  y«t  open  to  the 
fihining  &ce  with  wbieh  the 
blaated  Christ  looks  down  into 
its  depth.  ETery  thought  is 
iipen  ;  cnrerj  beftntj  of  His 
word  And  Bpirit  is  csoght 
,  huBg  sboTS  the  I  within  it ;  and,  abore  all,  in 
wers  led  to  gaxe  !  its  still  purity  snd  lore,  the 
down  into  a  half-    image  of  the  Lord  Himself  is 


Bg  m  two  Ihere- 
nroed  amithar  path 
7,  leading  bj  iiw 
ittle  aMMe*ahaded 
as  wmather  had  in 
.  haen  still  and 
nd  this  time,  as 
at  one  point 
k,  dnstored  with 


made  by  a  torn- 
raters;  and  thore, 
et  faee,  pare  as  a 
IS,  we  beheld  onr 
laoces  reflected-^ 
e  clear  bottom 
h  its  eilTer  peb- 
old  trace  the  bhie 
hevven  above,  and 
irnHght,  mirrored 
flower  for  flower, 
M,  we  eonld  mark 
.y  sheet  all  the 
iets  of  the  rock, 
Msu    Toaddyet 

ehann,  now  and 
ded  tront  daarted 
ner,  hung  tot  a 
ivering  in  the 
raTe«  and  then, 
mght  again,  was 
looked  long  into 
jeaee,  and  I  eonld 
ttin  reenrring  to 
f  a  few  evenings 


pictnred  oat,  line  by  line." 

"  You  see  the  difference,"  I 
added,  "  between  two  liTes  yon 
often  meet — one  onfixed  and 
Chrifitless,  tossed  about  by 
every  gnst  of  evil ;  never  there 
can  God's  quiet  and  image 
find  their  way;  the  other  still 
and  patient,  no  provocation 
ever  £ring  it,  no  coarse  or 
bad  passion  ever  ruffling  it, 
but  with  a  sweet  brow,  and  a 
gentle  happiness,  and  that 
Jesus  who  heareth  and 
aaswsreth  prayer  dwelling  in 
iiie  heart.  The  latter  of  these 
two,  desr  children,  is  that 
yomig  life,  which  shows  in  it 
the  third  fruit  of  the  Spirit — 
PeauP' 


CHAPTEB  TV, 

There  was  a  ramoor,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  greedily  taken 
up  and  sent  round  the  tcbools 
that  one  of  onx  beat  siiii  mo^X. 
M^  I,  **  Im  Hm  \  diligent  pupsla  -wia  »  cofWMurdL 


.XHB  8ABBAXH.8GHaLAB*B  XBXiJBU: 


:  It;  is  an  impeachikDent  at  all 
.  times  about  the  Tery   wont 
i.$iaong  .boys^— and  this  !boy, 
L-whom  I  had  known  and  I 
jdaresay  &voiired,  as  full  of  a 
( manly  sensQ  of  duty,  and  above 
all  a  fear. of  God's  holy  name, 
.fell  at  once  uiider  the  ban  of 
.Almost  all  'within  his  class  at 
]l^ast..    I    was    not    a    little 
tsnrprised ;  so  that,  as  quickly 
;as  possible,  I  found  out  the 
tale.     It  was  thia  :■ — in  some 
gHae  of  the  preTious  day,  he 
had  been  wronged  by  unfair 
ptey.    He  had  pointed  out  the 
^ck,  and  had  firmly  protested 
against  it.   For  that,  the  doer 
of  it,  a  violent  and  unruly 
comrade,  heated  by  his  con- 
sciousness    of    wrong,     had 
struck  him  on  the  face,  and 
.eten  spit  upon  him,  with  a 
challenge  at  the  moment,  that 
ihey  should  settle  their  dif- 
ference by  a  fight.     The  in- 
jured boy  had  grown  very  pale, 
^bnt  he  had  said,  **  I  will  not 
.fight !  ".    He  had  Jt>een  hooted, 
.struck  again,  taunted  in  £eu^ 
•of  the  whole  play-ground ;  still 
he  had    kept  his  hands  re- 
strained ;  and  telling  his  rude 
opponent   he   would    not  be 
.WigfSx  'thou^  tears  were  start- 
ing from  his  eyes^  he  walked 
^wtkj  steadily  and  alone. 
..    Whao  I  heard  the  tale  tbna, 


"lilwill   tel] 

**  another  ta] 

once    travelli 

Tehicle,>andjai 

some  bolster 

present, .  begi 

swear,  .and.. 

wicked  brag^ 

in  the  compa 

silent,  at  las' 

the  riotous  si 

he  only  prove] 

he   persisted 

dearly,    that 

not  God,  Gtx 

destroy.      A 

more  recklesi 

turned    fiero 

openly  spat  ii 

was  a  great 

that  so  gross 

at  once  be 

did    the    su: 

calmly  wiped 

hatred  from  ] 

*•  Sir,  if  I  00) 

your  conscie 

and  the  sha 

have  done,  a 

wipe,   its    n 

countenance, 

do  it.'     Som 

these  words, 

them  to  scon 

up   amongst 

because,  ibrsi 

fight  I     At 


Xmiled.ikb  islMB  xound  me.  \  Yi^ ^waatsuft 
8$ 


JlHX'VCBBIXfr  flCaBtCELABVi  XBXABUSi; 


ng  rbnnd,  he  said, 
he  greater  eoward^ 
fights  "because  he 
r  the  diame,  or  he 
%  ikhe  shame  keenly, 
enongh  to  refuse 
I  would  rather  be 
before  men,  than 
ad  in  shame  before 
id    so    he    -walked 

I  added,  "  that  is 
mate  here.  He 
a  coward  to  you, 


bnt  he  rhas  beea  bold  in  the  j 
sight  of  God.  And  why? 
Because  he  has  the  rare 
courage  to  endure  with  it ; 
when  reviled,  to*  renle  not 
again ;  not  to  be  OTercome 
of  evil,  but  to  overcome  evil 
with  good.  Instead  of  dis- 
honouring, honour  your  play- 
fellow. Go  and  do  likewise. 
Tea,  learn  from  his  gentle 
conduct,  that  fourth  and  moert 
blessed  fruit  of  the  Spirit — 
Long-suffering* 


M\Ki  Can  |  §o? 


.  summer  morning 
wandered  away 
tnong  the  quiet 
xlls.  There  were 
eatnres  to  be  seen 
t  the  timid  sheep 

one  another,  and 
ed  pe-wits  nttering 
tive  cries.  They 
me,  dropping  one 
tgs,  as  if  they  had 
ed,  crying  aU  the 
t!""pe-wit!"and 
larted  away  to  a 
;  knew  they  were 

I  was  going  io 
nests  or  hurt  their 
md  that  they  were 
id  me  past  them  ; 
ed  not  have  been 

• 

n  on  a  stone  in  a 
spot ;  it  WAS  sttch  i 
tone,  it  seemed  to  I 
here-  among-  the 


grass  and  heather  for  ages. 
"Whenever  the  rustling  of  my 
own  footsteps  was  hushed,  I 
began  to  hear  the  sound  of 
little  trickling  streams  ol 
water  around  me,  tinkling 
and  dropping,  tinkling  and 
dropping  among  the  grass. 
The  grass  was  so  thick,  and 
the  s6'eams  were  so  thin,  that 
I  could  not  see  them.  I  could 
only  hear  thetai  ;  and  very 
pretty  fairy* like  music  they 
made. 

So  I  sat  listening ;  and  the 
longer  I  sat,  my  ears  got  the 
better  used  to  the  sound  of  the 
little  tinkling  streams.  At 
last  I  heard,  or  Ihonght  I 
heard,  one  of  them  speaking. 
It  seemed  to  rise  just  under 
the  eld  grey  stone  I  was 
mtiing  on ;  and  I  am.  «\ne  ^ou 
never 'saw  aneli  k  VbxeoA  ol.  «k 
•trwua  ft&  itwa»— My-^ec3  -"jerj 


TKE  mSBJLTa  SCHOLAB^B  VBBIBini 


liltlA.  I  pni  Mdde  the  Irmg 
gi'ass  \?itb  my  hand  to  look  at 
it,  for  X  had  never  in  mj  life 
^ioTB  heard  a  stream  of  water 
speak.  Itwassolittle,  it  could 
'fioaroely  have  filled  a  tea  oup  in 
XD  hoar;  and  it  seemed  just  to 
he  lazily  speaking  to  itself, 
always  repeating  "  What's  the 
use  ?  what's  the  use  ?  what's 
the  use  of  a  poor  little  stream 
like  me  going  any  farther  ? 
what  good  can  I  do  ?  I  am 
suck  a  poor,  little,  useless 
thing,  the  rest  will  just  laugh 
at  me.  I  think  I  might  he 
allowed  to  lie  still  under  this 
old  grey  stone." 

I  was  just  going  to  answer 
it,  when  I  heard  another  one 
very  near  it  hegin  to  eqpeak — 
no  bigger  than  the  first — ^with 
no  more  water  in  it,  but  a 
great  deal  more  sense  and 
^irit;  quite  a  wise  little 
stream.  It  said  kindly  to  its 
lazy  neighbour,  "  Come  away, 
my  little  sister  ;  you  surely 
will  not  go  back  below  that 
old  grey  stone  again,  and  lie 
there  tUl  your  pretty  sparkling 
water  is  spoiled  or  lost.  Come 
«way  quickly ;  they  tell  me 
there  is  greafc  need  for  us 
in  the  valley  down  yonder. 
And  in  the  plain  beyond  it." 
Bat  the  foolish  little  stream 
only  grumbled  and  repeated, 
**  What's  the  use  ?  what  good 
can  J  do  ?"  '*  Nay,  come  and 
968,*'  said  the  other; 
eooMu"  At  Ungjih.  the 
little  stream  consented. 
Joined  witk  the  other, 
swa^j  ibej  went  together. 
XL9W  mach  skoiigec 
H 


"do 
lazy 
and 

ihej 


both  &lt  sfl 
joined,  and  hoi 
too!  if  you 
how  mernly  tl 
iiwinkled,  and 
tripped  edong. 
down  they  m 
streams,  some 
themselves,  an 
same  road.  '\ 
joined  compt 
l(mger  they  trs 
the  merrier  ai 
seemed  to  be< 
thing  could  1: 
their  way.  : 
great  rock  or 
made  a  race  ai 
over  it ;  but  ii 
do  that,  rounc 
its  side,  and  oi 
a  laugh. 

When  they 
the  moorland 
bom,  they  soc 
people  in  the  1 
so  anxious  fo 
There  had  bee 
of  rain  down  t 
was  beginning 
it  was  growi 
flowers  were  < 
earth.  The 
trees  were  shr 
the  very  fishc 
in  the  rivers, 
ol  water.  T 
miller  at  his  m 
downcast,  witl 
his  pockets,  fi 
water  to  drive 

But  what 
the  little  strea 
ing  down  thd  { 


U  so  menaj-to  the 
MdeB  mlhaj  paned 
As  they  trqiped  08% 
eun  bo^n  to  ImA 

lifted  np  llieii  hcadi 
otod  them,  and  tlie  l 
«med  to  clap  tbeir 
gether  like  little  haods 

And  thej  made  the 
happy  man  agnm. 
io  jon  think  that  tie 
ream  that  Taa  once  bo 
hed  U>  be  bBf  k  below 
giej  Btone  again  ?     No 

It  seemed  to  jump 
jo;  at  the  good  it  found 
ble  to  do.  It  jerked 
onder  the  roots  of  the 
I  trees.      It  Mesed  the 

flowera  in  paBsing, 
t  them  refreihed  and 
il  again;  and  it  seemed 
Lo  wish  to  linger  nnder 


noBE-grown  nuU-irheel, 


,  tb* 


was— an  to 
happy  teosnia  of  Uib  good  it 
waaabUlodd. 

Now,  I  know  yen  well  that 
some  at  mj  litUe  friends  are 
alwajB  readv  to  aaj,  sa  this 
little  stream  once  did,"  What's 
the  nse  f  what  good  can  I 
do?  and  the  verj  little  money 
that  I  coald  give,  what  good 
wonld  it  do  T "  Mj  dear 
children,  let  tbia  little  i^tream 
teaoh  joa.  If  it,  and  all  the 
other  little  streams,  bad  Isid 


stiU  □ 


T  the  old  Bi 


ltd  have 
and  the 
trees  and  the  flowers,  not  to 
Forget  the  miller  ?  Each  of 
jon  do  enmcthing,  and  join 
with  one  snotherin  doing  good. 
Ah  !  if  the  hearts  of  our  little 
ones  were  filled  with  iove  to 
Christ,  uid  their  hands  nnd 


i"ys.gjr  '  ■  11  I  uk 'iWAii.  II  li   'y  M  ■: 


mttm^^mnmrm 


X9B  BABBITH  SCHOLAB'8  TBEACrUST* 


Where  sin,  and  sorrow,  and 
want,  are  bowing  down  many, 
many  hearts,  and  spreading 
grief  and  death,  we  would  have 
hope,  and  health,  and  happi- 
ness. 
And  the  world  needs  every 


little  stream  of  Ohnstian  h 
— even  the  least.  As  they 
on  they  will  get  stronger  t 
purer,  and  in  God's  good  ha 
they  will  be  **  showers  of  ble 
mg.' 

W.  A.  D, 


fines  Mritten  far  an:  Inkstnal  ^t^o 

€\i\li  ta  learn. 

am:  a  little  child, 
With  nothing  good  in  me, 
But,  Father,  make  me  grow  in  grace, 
Till  fit  thy  face  to  see. 

I  am  a  naughty  child, 

With  heart  so  full  of  sin ; 
But  I  have  heard  Christ^s  blood  can  wash 

Such  hearts  and  make  them  clean. 

I  am  a  poor  weak  child, 

And  need  thy  Spirit's  power, 
To  guard  me  from  my  wicked  way, 

Through  every  day  and  hour. 

I  wish  to  be  Thy  child, 

To  dwell  in  Thy  bright  home, 
And  Jesus  wants  me  to  be  there, 

For  He  has  bid  me  come. 

Lord,  make  me  now  Thy  child. 

Through  Jesus  Christ  forgiven, 
And  when  1  die,  O  Father  take 

rhy  ransomed  one  to  heaven. 


36 


THE 


&at|  <Sc|alat's  Creaswrg 


▲KD 


VENILE  MISSIONARY  RECORD 


IN  COKMBXION  WITH 


Wit  (S^lnrcl^  oi  ^cotlanb. 


*  Stdfer  little  Children  to  eome  nnto  Me."— Makk  x.  14. 


VOL.  V. 


EDINBURGH: 

THOMAS  PATON,  7  HANOVER  STREET. 
MDCCCLXIV. 


'  How  ■h^l  I  Tri  to  be  UkIhI  t     5 


I  lUidn  BiUelou 


(;hlne>e  Cbilrlrcii,    .  .        100 


■■JJ^VP^"siiJ' 


Good  Uiit  liMe  Cbarilfl  dli 
Ompoi  in  n'e>r  ZsiUstl,  Tbs, 


8     HaUne  lh<?  Paper  SpcB^  .  «)) 


^ 


tr  (b«  Ersninf, 
)d  ll  Lfjrtlt,'       ■ 


and  Out  BiTnIrt,    IM 


mChiUrci 


atlTU  HcfaoolH  In  IndlH.'  «7         ThroilEli  Peua  tn  Uglil, 

iMd^CEdnoBMoBinlnillB,     66         "  Thy  Kingdom  Cmob,"  . 


IF  Rf  iideiii,      .  ,  1 

>11lii|[lnI.llbndoT.      .  R 

'Ih  Chuptorof  Iiilab,  Tb^  » 


from  tfec  feast. 

{CmtinudframT'^a'  UX)-) 
.ST     month     1    ik-  i  cloiter     mors     Biiered      and 

scribed  our  joarney    hiBtoric  memories  Ih&D  around 

from  Joppa  lo  Jern-     any  other  spot  in  the   whols 

BKlem,   and  I  shalt  :  vorld. 
I  yon  some  acroant  of  .      Uo    ftrBt    walking    sToand 

Citj,  "  beaatifD]  tor  '  Jerngalem  Uiat  ^asfta^e  \u  'i^e 
, "  ajid  aroand  wbidi  <  4Sth   Pioim  usAoraU]  oeuiii« 


\ 


■I 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  S  TBEASUBT. 


to  the  mind,  "  Walk  about 
Zion  and  go  round  about 
her,  tell  the  towers  thereof, 
mark  ye  well  her  palaces,  con- 
sider her  bulwarks."  This 
was  written  in  the  days  of 
Jerusalem's  glory.  Alas,  how 
changed  it  is  now  !  Doubtless 
the  Saviour  saw,  with  the  eye 
of  divine  prescience,  its  present 
state  of  desolation  when  He 
*'  beheld  the  City  and  wept 
over  it." 

Perhaps  nothing  strikes  the 
eye  more  in  passing  through 
the  streets  than  their  deserted 
appearance.  Excepting  in  the 
bazaars  and  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  there  is  scarcely 
any  appearance  of  life.  One 
may  pass  through  long  streets 
of  dead  walls  without  meeting 
a  human  being,  unless  some 
squalid  wretch  stretching  forth 
his  hand  for  alms.  Truly  it 
is  come  to  pass,  "  Zion  is  a 
wilderness,  Jerusalem  a  de- 
solation." 

The  walls  which  intlose  the 
city  are  about  two  miles  and 
a  half  in  circumference,  but 
the  buildings  do  not  nearly 
fill  up  the  space  inclosed, — dif- 
ferent portions  of  it  being 
either  unoccupied  or  covered 
with  heaps  of  rubbish.  The 
population  probably  does  not 
exceed  15,000,  and  is  composed 
of  parties  of  many  different 
creeds.  The  Jews  are  the 
most  numerous,  and  next  to 
them  the  Moslems.  The  re- 
mainder are  members  of  the 
6^reek  Church,  lloman  Cath- 
olic^ Armenians,  &c. 
110 


The  ancient  city  is  ba 
under  many  feet  of  rubb 
the  accumulation  of  ages ; 
if  we  look  for  remains  of 
former  magnificence  we  1 
almost  in  vain.  Nor  will 
surprise  us  when  we  cons 
the  numerous  sieges  it  has 
dergone  by  Romans,  Gn 
ders,  and  Saracens. 

But  the  natural  feati 
must  be  almost  unchan 
since  the  days  of  the  Heb; 
monarchy.  The  Mount 
Olives,  the  valley  of  Him« 
and  the  valley  of  Jehoshap 
remain,  in  their  general  i 
tures,  just  as  they  were  f^ 
the  Saviour  dwelt  on  etf 
And  it  is  to  these  that  < 
heart  of  the  true  pilgrim  tm 
for  relief  from  the  innoiB 
able  monkish  traditions  tf 
so-called  *'  holy  places." 

March  15. — This  moni 
we  walked  around  the  sot 
side  of  the  city,  outside  ^ 
wall,  as  far  as  the  gate  b 
called  "  St  Stephen's."  Fr 
this  point  we  could  see  nea 
the  whole  of  the  valley 
Jehoshaphat,  thickly  stad< 
with  tombs.  Many  Jews  fr< 
different  parts  of  the  wo 
come  to  die  at  JerusaleiDi 
order  that  their  bones  m 
rest  in  the  land  of  ill 
fathers.  These  tombs  < 
only  marked  by  small  ^ 
stones,  and  you  will  see  £n 
the  picture  at  the  commeB* 
ment  of  this  paper  and  irbi 
is  taken  from  a  photogn4 
how  closely  they  are  crow 
together.  The  two  large  mo! 
me\i\.^  m  \k^  i^icture  are  I 


THS  BABB4TH  SCHOLAR  S  TREA6UBY. 


«,  and  are  hewn  ont 


ling  into  the  valley 
and  atony  path,  we 
onall  bridge  over  the 
led  of  the  Eedron ; 
ig*on  the  right  tlie 
!  Gethsemane  with 
)le  olives,  ascended 
b  of  Olives.  Num- 
le  lizards  were  bask- 
mn  or  darting  about 
)  bare  white  lime- 
I.  The  ascent  was 
the  view  from  the 
unequalled  in  inter- 
le  other  side  of  the 
salem  lay  stretched 
like  a  map,    and 


bribe.  Christians  have  been  ad- 
mitted within  its  sacred  pre- 
cincts. I  shall  next  month 
describe  our  visit  to  tliis — jior- 
haps  the  most  interesting  spot 
in  Jerusalem,  for  it  is  the  spot 
where  stood  God's  holy  and 
beautiful  house. 

But  let  us  now  turn  our 
eyes  towards  the  east,  and  there 
lies  before  us  a  scarcely  less 
interesting  scene— the  wilder- 
ness of  Jndca;  and  in  the  dis- 
tance the  valley  of  the  Jordan, 
and  the  Dead  Sea  glistening 
in  the  sunlight  and  backed  by 
the  dark  mountains  of  Moab. 
One  of  these  mountain  tops 
must  be  Pisgah,  whence  Moses 
ble  to  distinguish  |  viewed  the  promised  land  ;  and 
of  the    different    another  Nebo,  where  he  died. 

We  spent  a  considerable 
time  engrossed  in  the  view  of 
these  sacred  scenes,  and  then 
descended,  having  it  in  pro- 
spect to  encamp  on  Mount 
Olivet  for  a  few  days  before 
leaving  the  Holy  City,  in  order 
to  study  them  more  at  leisuie. 
March  16,  Sunday,  —  This 
morning  we  attended  divine 
service  at  the  little  English 
church  near  the  Jalfa  gate.  It 
is  the  only  Protestant  church 
in  Jerusalem.  It  was  sweet  to 
hear  tlie  songs  of  Zion  sung  on 
Zion  hill,  and  on  the  very  spot 
too  where  probably  many  of 
them  were  composed  by  the 
royal  Psalmist;  for  it  has 
been  supposed  that  the  church 
occupies  a  portion  of  the  site 
formerly  covered  by  the  king's 
palace,  of  which  the  massive 
walls  of  the   citadeV   ft\i   Wift 


»n 

ich  it  is  built.    A 
m  of  Zion  is  out- 
odem  wall,  and  is 
niltivation.  That  is 
ra  which  was  pro- 
Jeremiah, — "  Zion 
)Ughed  like  afield." 
aps  the  most  strik- 
flie  view  of  Jeru- 
this  point,  is  the 
space  on  Mount 
inly  planted    with 
e,  and  other  trees, 
le  centre  of  which 
*'  Kubbet  es  Suk- 
"  Dome    of    the 
imonly  called  the 
Omar/»        This 
lilding  is   erected 
k  which  forms  the 
[orioh,  and  is  the 
place  in  the  eyes 
lem,   next  to   the 
ecca.    It  is  only  of 


payment  of  a  large  j  Jaffa  gate  may  "have  iotme^iL 

111 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB*B  TREA61TBY. 


part.  These  walls  are 
eyidently  of  great  antiquity. 
The  stones  are  very  large,  and 
bevelled  in  the  style  of  ancient 
Jewish  architecture. 

On  leaving  the  church,  we 
were  struck  with  the  numbers 


of  lepers  **  sitting 
side  begging,"  no 
in  groups  of  three 
by  their  wretched 
appealing  to  the  c 
passers  by. 


usstan   SgranitK. 


BE  CALL  a  sad  case 
— a  thing  that  hap- 
pened to  one  Ambos, 
a    professor    in    a 
university,   who  was  also    a 
Lutheran     minister,     falsely 
accused    of    a    crime,     and 
through  the  malice  of  some 
enemy  made  to  appear  guilty. 
So  he  was  suddenly  torn  from 
his  firiends   and    hurried    off 
to  Siberia.     It  was  a  sad  blow 
to  his  aged  parents,  for  they 
had  alreskdy  lost  two  sons  in 
the  army,  and  this  son  and 
a  daughter  were  all  that  were 
left  to  them.    As  he  lived  at 
a  distance  from  them,  it  was 
some  time  before  they  heard 
of  it,  and  even  then  they  could 
not  learn  what  had  become  of 
him.     The  whole  thing  was 
involved  in  great  mystery,  and 
the  old  father  sunk  under  the 
trouble  and  anxiety,  and  died. 
After  some  years  a  travel- 
ler called  at  the  inn  of  the 
place   and  inquired    for    the 
friends  of  Ambos.      He  told 
them  that  the  year  previous, 
while  travelling  in  Siberia,  he 
had  found  poor  Henry  Ambos, 
in  r&gBt  at  work  in  a  gang  of 
prisonera.    He  had  told  \nui 
112 


his  name  and  1 
begged  him  on  1 
hunt  up  his  fai 
them  know  wh( 
The  mother  and  • 
mediately  began 
means  to  get  at 
the  matter,  and  t 
emperor  in  his 
was  a  serious 
but  the  sister,  B 
heart  in  it,  and  si 
to  push  it  throi 
visited  the  plac 
brother  had  Uvec 
succeeded  in  getl 
count  of  the  tria 
injustice  that  ha 
tised, '  and  with  t 
papers  and  a  pe 
pardon,  she  sel 
Petersburg. ' 

Here  she  had 
difficulty  in  getti 
before  the  em 
officer  whose  bu 
to  attend  to  t 
absolutely  refu^ 
anything  to  do  w 
she  could  get  : 
others  to  listen 
last  she  determii 
I  em\yetor  himself 


THB  BABBATH  SCHOLAB'B  TBEASUBT. 


with  the  greatest  difficulty. 
The  door-keepers  would  not 
admit  her  to  the  palace,  and 
she  had  not  friends  of  suffi- 
cient influence  to  get  an  inter- 
view for  her.  So  she  watched 
his  suite  when  he  went  to 
church,  or  to  the  park,  or 
to  reviews,  hut  all  to  no  pur- 
pose ;  the  guards  or  the 
servants  always  kept  her 
hack.  At  last  some  ladies  of 
rank  hecame  interested  in  her 
story,  and  one  of  them,  the 
Countess  Elise,  offered  to  let 
her  go  in  her  dress  and  car- 
riage, and  he  introduced  in 
her  name.  This  would  gain 
her  entrance  to  the  palace, 
and  then  she  must  manage  for 
herself.  So  she  was  admitted, 
and  the  emperor  being  told 
that  the  Countess  Elise 
waited  to  see  him,  came  to 
meet  her.  Of  course  he  was 
very  much  surprised  to  see 
that  it  was  not  the  Countess 
at  all,  hut  a  stranger  ;  still  he 
was  not  angry,  and  he  permit- 
ted her  to  state  her  business, 
even  condescended  to  look 
over  the  papers  she  had 
brought  with  her,  and  before 
she  left  he  gave  her  reason  to 
hope  that  her  brother  would 
be  pardoned.  After  five  days 
of  suspense  she  received  the 
pardon  of  her  brother  with 
the  emperor's  seal  and  signa- 
ture, and  then  she  rejoiced 
with  great  joy. 

But  she  would  not  trust  the 
precious  paper  out  of  her  own 
hands.  Nothing  would  answer 
but  that  she  must  go  herself 
and  take  it  to  her  brother. 


So  she  started  off  alone  on 
that  long  and  weary  journey. 
For  a  whole  week  she  travelled 
day  and  night,  and  after  a 
couple  of  days  of  rest,  she 
travelled  another  week,  for 
there  were  neither  railroads 
nor  balloons  on  her  route. 
She  travelled  post,  as  it  is 
called,  which  is  something 
like  our  stage-coach  travelling. 
Oh,  how  eagerly  she  presented 
herself  to  the  officer  at  the 
end  of  her  journey  and  shewed 
him  the  pardon  of  her  brother. 
He  received  her  kindly,  and 
read  over  the  paper  carefully, 
and  then  said,  slowly, 

'*  I  am  sorry,  but  the  Henry 

I  Ambos  mentioned  in  this  paper 

I  is  dead  !  " 

Poor  girl  I  Her  efforts  had 
been  all  in  vain.  God,  in 
whose  hands  are  the  lives  of 
all,  waits  not  the  movements 
even  of  the  Russian  emperor ; 
he  had  pardoned  the  poor 
worn-out  man,  and  taken  him 
home  to  rest  in  heaven. 

Yes,  though  we  may  scarcely 
ever  think  of  it,  that  will  be 
the  end  of  all  our  travels,  my 
little  ones.  However  widely 
we  may  wander  here,  we  shall 
all  come  at  last  to  the  same 
gate,  some  sooner,  some 
later,  but  one  by  one  we  shall 
all  certainly  come  there.  And 
what  will  be  our  lot  after  we 
have  passed  through  it  ?  Can 
we  answer  that  question? 
How  little  it  matters  where  we 
spend  our  lives  here,  but  how 
much  it  matters  where  we 
spend  them  hereafter  I — S.  S. 
-iduocatc. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOI.AB  S  TBBAStTBX. 


ieli&wan«  of  Sbbcohta. 


HE  news,  the  good 
news,  of  the  deliver- 
ance of  AbheokntA 
reached  England 
after  the  last  Number  of  the 
**  Green  Book"  was  in  the 
printer's  hands.  Some  of  our 
readers  have  already,  we  dare 
say,  heard  or  read  of  the  great 
deliverance  God  has  wrought 
for  His  servants  in  that  place, 
but  we  must  place  the  account 
on  record  in  the  pages  of  our 
little  book. 

None  can  have  forgotten 
how,  last  year,  when  Abbeo- 
kuta  was  threatened  with  de- 
struction by  the  King  of 
Dahomey,  the  people  of  God 
were  moved  to  pray  for  its 
safety.  And  we  must  remem- 
ber how  the  fierce  king,  with 
his  men  and  women- soldiers, 
came  suddenly  upon  the  city, 
and  then,  without  making  any 
attack,  as  suddenly  returned 
by  the  way  by  which  he  came. 
Many  hearts  were  made  glad 
by  the  tidings,  and  gave  thanks 
to  God,  who  always  hears  the 
prayers  of  His  people. 

Again  the  cruel  king  of 
Dahomey  has  marched  up 
against  Abbeokuta.  Had  he 
taken  the  town,  all  the  in- 
habitants, heathen  and  Chris- 
tian, old  and  young,  would 
have  been  killed,  or  sold  as 
slaves  :  some  doubtless  would 
have  been  kept  to  be  offered  in 
sacrifice  to  his  idols.  You 
will  remember  reading  of  these 
dre&dfal  sacrifices  at  Abomey. 
114 


The  king  had  already 
a  particular  spot  of 
where  he  intended  tc 
missionaries.  Than 
God,  they  have  not  fa 
prey  into  his  hands. 

The  king  seems 
made  sure  of  victoi 
army  was  large, 
soldiers  brave  and  da 
the  battle  is  the  Lc 
He  giveth  the  vi 
whomsoever  He  pleai 

The  Abbeokutai 
aware  of  the  enemy's 
Not  only  were  t 
manned,  and  every 
tion  made  to  defend 
but  the  Christian  pe( 
the  missionaries  a 
families,  were  cone 
earnest  in  their  pi 
God  to  save  them  o 
hand  of  the  heathen. 

In  one  schoolroo 
the  men  were  gam 
fight,  many  African 
were  gathered  toget 
made  supplication  i 
Lord.  Think  of  the 
all  this  time— the  lit 
children  and  the  lit 
children  too.  A  en 
or  a  life  of  wretche 
must  be  theirs  if 
conquered. 

The  fight  began  ab 
o'clock  in  the  mon 
soon  the  Dahomians 
to  flight.  They  atta 
town,  and  tried  to 
the  walls,  but  the  . 


THX  BABBATH  8CHOIJLB*8  TBEABUBY. 


Bing,    the    enemy 

They  were  pur- 
niany  slain.    God 

after  this  signal 
long  of  Dahomey 
again  disturb  Ab- 
}^reat  rejoicing  was 
day  in  Abbeoknta. 

things  the  par- 
ght  back  to  the 
iome  large  razors, 

the  king  had  in- 
it  off  the  heads  of 
I,  and  which  were 
7  in  their  harry  to 
I  the  Abbeokntans 
forty  were  killed, 
lomians  lost  thou- 

we      shall      give 
3h>d  for  His  great 


'  mercy  to  oar  brethen,  and  to 
I  the  poor  heathen  in  Abbeo- 
knta. Many  of  the  heathen 
say  it  is  the  Christians'  God 
I  who  has  given  them  the 
Tiotory.  May  they  be  led  to 
choose  Him  for  their  God,  and 
I  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ, 
I  God's  only  Son,  and  man's 
,  only  Saviour!  If  it  happen 
'  thus  xmto  them  from  the  Lord, 
i  we  shall  have  more  abundant 
cause  still  to  thank  God  for 
the  defeat  of  king  of  Dahomey. 
Has  not  God  taught  us,  that 
if  we  only  pray  and  faint  not, 
we  shall  in  due  time  give  Him 
thanks  f  May  the  lesson  not 
be  thrown  away  upon  us  I — 
Christian  Missionary  Juve- 
nile Instructor,  4 


,tMs  of  f  toa  ^inbs. 


Indian  lady,    well 
)own  in  her  own 
•untry     for      her 
ohes    and   jewels. 
Englishman,  and 
I  in  Britain.   After 
residence  in  this 
le  became  very  ill : 
said  it  was  con- 
She  was  forbidden 
.y  parties,  of  which 
fond,  confined  to 
and  her  strength 
ingway. 

'  was  a  Moham- 
le  faiih  she  held 
QO  comfort ;  her 
lent  was  in  read- 
tales.  The  sick- 
sat  in  her  room  . 
her  eyea  from  her  / 


work  to  watch  her  patient  — 
so  like  a  prisoner,  shut  up  in 
our  cold  country,  far  from 
her  own  sunny  land.  Nurse 
kept  her  Bible  always  near 
her,  and  every  now  and  then 
would  read  a  word  to  cheer 
herself,  longing  to  put  it  into 
the  lady's  hand,  in  place  of 
the  foolish  tales  she  read. 
But  "  he  that  winneth  souls 
is  wise ;"  not  only  wise  in 
having  chosen  the  highest  kind 
of  work,  but  wise  in  waiting  till 
God  shall  open  His  way  to  do  it. 
"  Nurse,"  the  lady  said  at 
length,  "I  think  you  must 
find  it  very  dull  to  be  shut  up 
in  this  room  with  me  all  day 
long,  and  to  have  noWmig^  \a 
amuse  you." 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB  B  TBBABVBK 


**  Oh,  no,  ma'am,"  she  said, 
"  I  don't  find  it  dull  at  all :  I 
am  always  cheerful,  and  am 
not  sorry  for  myself  to  be  shut 
up  in  this  room." 

The  lady  thought  this  very 
strange,  and  said,  **  Go  and 
fetch  the  box  that  holds  my 
jewels :  it  will  help  to  amuse 
us  to  look  at  it  this  dull  day." 

So  the  nurse  fetched  the 
box  of  jewels,  and  the  lady 
unlocked  it,  and  spread  a 
quantity  of  them  on  the  table. 

"  Now,  nurse,  would  not 
you  like  to  have  some  of  these 
jewels?" 

"No,  ma'am,  not  at  all; 
for  I  have  jewels  much  finer 
than  yours." 

I  "  How  can  that  be,  nurse  ? 
mine  are  the  finest  jewels  in 
the  land.  Where  are  yours  ? 
You  never  wear  them  I " 

So  the  nurse  held  up  her 
Bible,  saying,  "My  jewels  are 
all  in  this  book." 

The  lady  thought  there  were 
one  or  two  jewels  hidden  about 
the  book,  and  said,  "  Take 
them  out  and  shew  them  to 
me." 

*'  Why,  ma'am,  my  jewels 
are  so  precious  I  can  only 
shew  you  one  at  a  time." 

Then  she  opened  her  Bible, 
and  read  the  text,  "  I  have 
learned,  in  whatsoever  state  I 
am,  therewith  to  be  content." 
She  told  her  mistress,  that 
though  a  poor  woman  she 
had  no  wish  to  be  a  rich  one, 
for  God  knew  what  was  best 
for  her.  She  said  also  that 
her  treasure  was  in  heaven^ 
a.nd  that  she  did  not  bo  mucbi 


mind  the  trialf 
because  she  ws 
happiness  in  tl: 
God  and  Jesus  < 

It  pleased  Go 
lady's  heart  th: 
attend  to  the  tl 
nurse  spoke.     (. 

"  Why,  nurse 
any  thing  like 
happy  you  musi 
you  do;  I  wis 
the  same ! " 

And  then  tl 
her  she  had  n 
feel  thus  of  he 
was  God  who  hi 
her  heart,  and  \ 
do  the  same  f< 
she  would  ask  I 

"  Well,  nuri 
lady,  "  1  shou] 
another  of  you 
which  you  ha 
now  is  so  beaut 

But  the  nurs 
poor    lady    wa 
thought    it  wa 
one  day,  but 
should  see  one 
morrow. 

So  next  day 
"  Shew  me  anoi 

Nurse  open< 
again,  and  reai 
faithful  saying, 
all  acceptation 
Jesus  came  int 


»> 


\ 


save  smners. 

The  Holy  J 
work  in  the  lad"" 
began  to  feel  \ 
great  sinner,  i 
the  Lord  Jesu 
soul ;  she  gave 


XBB  BABBATB  8CH0LAB*B  TBEA8UBT. 


welB  now;  she  had 
he  pearl  of  great 
ler  body  wasted  day 
it  her  Bonl  was  joy- 


fhl  in  her  SaTiour.  She  was 
a  wonder  to  many,  a  bright 
monument  of  God's  power  to 
save. — The  Soul  Gatherer, 


%\t  $it  anb  its  J^mh,* 


B  have  mnch  plea- 
sure in  directing 
the  attention  of 
oar  readers  to 
ent  tract.  We  give 
y  of  the  narrative, 
hi  many  may  be  in- 
ead  the  little  book, 
ate  on  the  solemn 
impressively  taught. 
16th  January  1862 
ing  accident  took 
e  north  of  England, 
nrning  of  that  fatal 
hundred  and  four 
boys  descended 
}w  Pit  to  their  work, 
thing  went  on  as 
1  eleven  o'clock  in 
x)n,  when  a  loud 
noise  like  distant 
N&a  heard  in  the 
lood  of  the  pit.  It 
d  by  the  pitmen's 
that  something 
1  happened ;  and, 
r  worst  fears  were 
the  beam  of  the 
uass  of  iron  weigh- 
-three  tons,  had 
I  two,  and  one  of 
lerous  lengths  had 
m  the  pit.  The 
am  carried  every- 
>re  it    in  its    fall. 

JBer.   C.  F.  Bacban,  I 
rutFordoun.  / 


Wood-work,  stones,  gravel, 
and  earth,  in  immense 
quantities,  were  carried  down, 
so  that  the  shaft  of  tlie  pit 
was  completely  choked  up, 
and  all  communication  with 
those  below  entirely  cut  off. 
What  a  dreadful  thought  I 

Upwards  of  two  hundred 
men  and  boys  shut  up  in  this 
Uving  grave,  with  no  way  of 
escape,  and  the  deadly  poison 
of  foul  air  constantly  increas- 
ing. Such  a  calamity  had 
never  before  been  experienced 
in  coal-mining,  though  its 
annals  are  full  of  sad  and 
terrible  accidents.  Heroic 
eflforts  were  immediately  made 
for  the  deliverance  of  the  poor 
prisoners.  All  that  skill  could 
devise,  and  strength  and 
courage  could  perform,  was 
done  for  days  and  nights 
without  intermission,  but  in 
vain.  It  was  not  until  the 
sixth  day  that  an  opening  was 
made  into  the  pit,  and  then 
it  was  found  to  be  too  late,— 
the  whole  were  dead  !  Some 
were  found  with  tools  in  their 
hands,  as  if  they  had  laboured  • 
bravely  to  the  last  to  make  a 
way  of  escape  for  themselves 
and  their  fellow-pmo\i«t\i  \ 
but  the  maiority  were  \j.\\.V\ii\j, 
with  their teadsTealmgoii  >iJafc\t 

in 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB^S  TBBASUKI. 


hands,  or  reclining  on  each 
other's  shoulders,  or  locked  in 
a  loving  embrace.  They  had 
met  the  last  enemy  undaunted- 
ly, many  of  them  with  the 
peace  and  joy  which  the 
Christian  alone  can  feel  in 
such  an  hour.  Inscriptions 
written  on  pieces  of  paper  or 
scratched  on  tin  vessels,  made 
known  the  penitence  of  some, 
the  faith  of  others,  and  the 
fate  of  all.  "  Mercy,  0  God ! " 
'*  We  had  a  prayer-meeting  at 
two !  "  and  such  like  intima- 
tions of  devout  repentance  and 
faith,  were  some  of  their  sad 
but  sublime  memorials  in  death. 
And  could  a  loftier  tribute  to 
the  power  of  the  Gospel  be 
rendered  than  that  which 
their  sepulchre  in  the  gloomy 
pit  gave  up  when  opened? 
Those  touching  mementos  of 
the  devotion  in  death  of  these 
lowly  pitmen,  dying  one  by 
one  in  the  dark  bowels  of  the 


earth,  sent  a  thrill 
amazement  and  J03 
the  land.  Vnhe 
wondered  at  the  ei 
fortitude  of  these 
men;  and  Christii 
and  thanked  God  i 
given  to  humblt 
thus  to  testify  for 
in  circumstances 
dously  appalling, 
remain  unmoved 
thought  of  these  i 
together  a  devotioi 
when  the  last  ho] 
and  the  coldness  c 
already  creeping 
hearts  ?  And  1 
believers  in  Him 
resurrection  and  t 
far  down  in  the  '. 
earth ;  and  that 
awful  pit  becam< 
every  reason  to 
bright  gateway  int 
immortality. 


oiit  to  Claris t. 


NE  morning  a  con- 
verted Hindoo  came 
to  the  missionary 
bringing  his  brass 
idols,  and  throwing  them  on 
the  ground,  said : — 

"  Enough  of  these !  I  have 
done  with  them,  and  wish  to 
have  no  more  to  do  with  them. 
I  have  read  much  and  learned 
much  in  my  heathen  books, 
bat  I  have  found  no  Test.  In. 
Christ  alone  is  rest." 
118 


\ 


He  also  took  frc 
a  silver  chain  1 
name  of  his  god, : 
it  on  the  ground,  f 

"  Enough  I  N 
sin  has  cleaved  tc 
while  I  have  kept 
me.  Please,  sir,  tal 
something  better- 
Jesus.  0  how  dil 
all  this !  I  know  1 1 
secuted  by  my  frie 


THB  SABBATH  BCHOLAB*B  TBEA8UBT. 


io'ttt  inak  t\t  ^abballj. 


TOUNG  man  lay 
tossing  from  side  to 
side  on  a  straw-bed 
in  one  comer  of  a 
room  in  a  prison, 
^t  brought  you  here  V* 
me  who  went  to  visit  him 
I  distress. 

breaking  the  Sabbath," 
le,  **  breaking  the  Sab- 
Instead  of  going  to  the 
ith-school  I  went  a  fish- 
i  the  Sabbath.  IJcnew 
U9  doing  wrong ;  my 
r  taught  me  better  ;  my 
th-school  teacher  taught 
tter ;  my  minister  taught 
tter;  my  Bible  taught 
tter ;  my  conscience  re- 
.  me  all  the  time  I  was 
it ;  but  I  hated  instruc- 
jid  despised  reproof— 
)re  I  am  in  prison.  I 
yt    believe    those    who 


taught  me  and  warned  me.  I 
had  no  idea  that  it  would  come 
to  this — but  here  I  am.  Lost ! 
Undone !" 

But  I  hear  some  one  say, 
"  What  harm  can  there  be  in 
taking  a  stroll  in  the  woods  or 
on  the  hills  ?  What  liarm  in 
just  sitting  down  on  the  bank 
to  fish?" 

What  harm  !  WTiat  harm  ! 
Why,  this.  God  is  disobeyed. 
He  says,  **  Remember  the 
Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy.*^ 
The  moment  you  resolve  to 
have  your  own  way,  and  seek 
your  own  pleasure,  instead  of 
obeying  God,  you  let  go  com- 
pass, rudder,  and  chart.  No- 
thing but  God's  Word  can 
guide  you  safely  through  this 
life.  Forsake  that,  refuse  to 
obey  its  teachings,  and  you 
are  lost." 


^NEELING  in  the  pleasant  twilight 
i^j        Of  the  Sunday  eventide; 
When  its  fading  golden  glories 
Into  the  darkness  glide. 

My  mothers  arms  around  ms, 

My  head  upon  her  breast, 
Fell  upon  me  in  the  twilight, 

The  calm  of  peifect  rest. 

Her  kiss  upon  my  forehead, 
Her  dear  voice,  sweet  and  mild, 

Spoke  through  the  gathering  shadows, 
The  tender  name  ot  "  Cnild.** 


a  BCHOL.1B  B  IXUaOB 


And  all  the  dait\  burden, 
And  all  the  week's  unrest, 

Charmed  away  into  tbe  twiliitht, 
Left  me  kneeling  calm  sad  bleat. 

Then  o'er  m«,  through  the  twilight. 
Like  (lew  Irom  heaven,  there  scale 

A  vniee  of  love  unearthly, 
Speaking  loflly  to  my  louL 

Solemn  and  Bweet  the  accents, 

Ai  tender  and  as  true, 
"  As  one  his  mother  comrortetb, 

So  will  1  comfort  you." 

I  seemed  to  see  my  Saviour 
Stand  on  the  heavenly  shore, 

When  closed  nas  lift's  long  battle, 
And  the  daylight's  toil  was  o'er. 

With  His  touch  of  hlesaing  charming 
All  the  strife  of  earth  away ; 

All  longing  and  ail  sorrowing, 
Lost  in  the  perfect  day. 

Oh,  love  divine  and  tender, 

Uh,  thou  than  aU  mora  fair  1 
Thy  shadows  fringe  this  earth  of  oar 

tbj  peitect\igbt,UOwTe\ 


from  t^e  fesst. 


iCtmimatd /rum  fast  III.) 
rjAKY  Dohle   remunB  '  m^morate  hii  TictnrieR   n^n 
K     of  the  ancient  City  I  the  Jena,  and  the  destrnclion 
ffi     tlelii^bt    the  e;e  of '  of  JernBalcin. 

the  visitor  to  Bomo :  |      Ou  the  inside  of  the  Arch  are 

these,  few  mil   eicite  i  batt-relicfs.    representing    the 

;  iDterest  than  the  Aceh  I  copti'o  Jens,  and  tiia  s^nWanl     \^ 

tn«    ereclat   to    com-  j  the  Temple  ■which  -were  o«tt\e4 

ViV 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TREASUBY. 


/ 


to  Borne  by  Titas.  It  takes 
us  back,  in  imagination,  to  the 
time  of  Moses  and  the  giving 
of  the  Law  &om  Sinai,  to  see 
here  sculptured  the  silTdr 
trumpets  made  by  the  com- 
maud  of  God  **for  the  calling 
of  the  assembly,"  and  the 
branched  candlestick  of  gold, 
made  according  to  the  **  pat- 
tern which  was  shewed"  Mcses 
*'in  the  mount." 

It  is  not  known  what  be- 
came of  the  sacred  vessels 
brought  by  Titus  to  Bome — 
some  say  that  they  were 
thrown  accidentally  from  the 
Milvian  Bridge  into  the  Tiber, 
dvring  the  flight  of  Maxentius 
from  Oonstantine ;  others,  that 
they  were  carried  off  by  Gen- 
seiic  after  the  sack  of  Kome, 
and  lost  in  the  passage  to 
Africa.  In  the  sculptures  on 
ihe  Arch,  however,  we  have 
the  exact  representation  of 
the  sacred  utensils,  executed 
by  the  hand  of  one  who  had 
no  doubt  seen  the  originals ; 
and  these  sculptures  have  been 
preserved  to  us  in  the  most 
wonderful  manner  through 
nearly  eighteen  centaries,  to 
be  a  standing  memorial  of  the 
fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  of 
Christ — "  The  days  shall  come 
upon  thee  that  thine  enemies 
shall  cast  a  trench  about  thee, 
and  compass  thee  round  on 
every  side,  and  shall  lay  thee 
even  on  the  ground,  and  thy 
children  within  thee;  and 
they  shall  not  leave  in  thee 
one  stone  upon  another,  be- 
caase  thou  knewest  not  the 
time  ofiliy  \isita.iiou,'^ 

122 


March  17. — This  morning 
we  went  to  the  English  Con- 
sulate to  join  a  party  which 
had  been  formed  for  the  pur- 
pose of  visiting  the  Haram,  or 
Temple  enclosure.  The  rain 
was  falling  heavily,  and  we 
went  splashing  through  the 
narrow,  wet,  and  stony 
streets,  preceded  by  a  cawass 
bearing  a  long  silver-headed 
rod.  When  we  arrived  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Haram,  we 
had  to  change  our  boots  for  a 
pair  of  slippers,  and  were 
then  conducted  to  the  Mosk 
I  of  Omar.  The  shape  of  this 
beautiful  building  is  an  octa- 
gon. Its  exterior  walls  are 
formed  of  an  intricate  mosaic 
of  many- coloured  marbles  and 
glazed  tiles,  and  are  crowned 
by  a  dome  of  exquisite  pro- 
portions, surmounted  by  a 
gilded  orescent.  Inside,  all 
was  darkness,  harmonizing 
painfully  with  our  sadness  at 
the  desecration  of  a  spot  so 
holy — the  place  of  which  it  is 
written,  '*The  glory  of  the 
Lord  filled  the  house."  Oar 
guide  conducted  us  through 
the  darkness,  lighting  the  way 
with  a  small  taper,  to  the 
centre  of  the  Mosk ;  and  there, 
underneath  a  silken  canopy, 
and  surrounded  by  a  wooden 
protection,  we  beheld  the 
broad  limestone  rock  which 
forms  the  summit  of  Moriah. 
This  was  the  threshing-floor 
of  Araunah  the  Jebusite,  where 
the  destroying  angel  sheathed 
his  sword.  Here  too  stood 
the  brazen  altar  of  burnt- 
offering  on  which  the  priest 


\ 


THE  BiBBATH  SCHOLAB*B  TBEASUBT. 


offered  the  morning  and  even- 
ing sacrifice,  "  day  by  day 
continually."  Awed  by  the 
solemn  associations  of  the 
spot,  we  were  not  in  a  mood 
to  listen  to  the  silly  and 
frivolous  traditions  about  Ma- 
homet, Gabriel,  and  Al  Borak, 
with  which  it  is  associated  by 
Mohammedans. 

Underneath  the  rock  is  a 
small  excavated  chamber, 
called  by  Moslems,  "The 
Noble  Cave,"  into  which  we 
descended.  It  is  undoubtedly 
ancient,  but  whether  it  had 
any  connection  with  the  Tem- 
ple is  uncertain. 

We  now  left  the  Mosk  of 
Omar,  and  crossed  to  the 
southern  side  of  the  Haram. 
After  visiting  the  Mosk  £1 
Aksa,  we  descended  into  the 
vaults,  which  extend  for  a 
considerable  distance  under 
this  portion  of  the  Temple  ' 
area.  These  vaults  are  built  ' 
of  immense  bevelled  stones, 
and  are  probably  coeval  with 
the  platform  formed  by  Solo- 
mon, on  which  to  build  the 
Temple;  and  are  certainly 
the  vaults  in  which,  as  related 
by  Josephus,  many  of  the 
Jews  took  refuge  after  the 
capture  of  the  City  by  Titus, 
as  well  as  during  the  bloody 
feuds  which  distracted  it  during 
the  siege. 

On  another  occasion  we 
visited  the  "  Jews'  wailing 
place,"  which  is  situated  near 
the  south  western  corner  of 
the  external  wall  of  the 
Haram.  Here,  on  Fridays, 
Jews  from  every  nation,  weep 


over  the  venerable  atones,  and 
whisper  their  prayers  through 
the  crevices  —  **  How  long, 
Lord,  wilt  thou  be  angry  for 
ever." 

"  Bnt  we  mnst  wander  witheringly 
In  other  lands  to  die, 
And  whore  oar  father's  ashes  be, 

Our  own  may  never  lie. 
Our  temple  hath  not  left  a  stone. 
And    mockery    aits    on    Salem's 
throne." 

March  24. — To  -  day  we 
visited  the  •'  Church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre."  Though 
the  identity  of  the  site  has 
been  much  disputed,  and  in- 
deed its  claims  to  be  the  true 
spot  will  scarcely  bear  a  can- 
did investigation,  yet  it  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  places 
in  the  Holy  City,  for  to  it 
the  hearts  of  all  Christendom 
have  for  ages  been  tamed,  as 
the  scene  of  our  Lord's  pas- 
sion and  burial.  For  the  re- 
covery of  this  from  the  hands 
of  the  Saracens,  the  Crusades 
were  undertaken,  and  it  has 
not  yet  ceased  to  be  a  source 
of  strife.  Some  difference 
with  regard  to  it,  between  the 
Greek  and  Latin  Churches, 
was  one  of  the  prime  causes  of 
the  Crimean  war.  As  Christ 
said,  "  I  came  not  to  send 
peace  on  earth,  bnt  a  sword. 

In  front  of  the  Church  is  a 
small  paved  court,  crowded 
with  pilgiims  of  all  ages,  and 
dressed  in  the  costumes  of 
almost  every  nation.  In  this 
conrt  is  carried  on  a  brisk 
trade  in  relics,  in  the  shape 
of  crucifixes  and  rosaries. 

Under  \ii\\i  -^^c&l  ioq.\  w^ 


/ 


^ 

~^^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TRSASURY. 


separate  chapels  for  many  dif- 
ferent sects.  The  liatins, 
Greeks,  Armenians,  and  Oopts, 
have  each  portions  of  the 
bnilding  belonging  to  them- 
selves exclusiTely,  besides  a 
common  right  in  other  parts. 
At  the  centre  of  the  Botnnda, 
underneath  the  great  dome,  is 
the  Sepulchre,  covered  by  a 
small  building.  Entering 
this  we  found  ourselves  in  a 
little  chapel,  cased  with  mar- 
ble, blackened  with  the  smoke 
of  incense,  and  lighted  by 
forty- two  gold  and  silver  lamps. 
Though  here  there  is  no  ap- 
pearance of  a  sepulchre,  yet 
few  could  see  unmoved  the 


crowds  of  pilgrims,  some  of 
them  little  children  searee 
able  to  reach  up  to  the  slab 
that  covers  the  tomb,  embrace 
the  cold  marble,  press  their 
lips  upon  it,  and,  it  may  be, 
bathe  it  with  their  tears. 

As  we  wandered  through 
the  gorgeous  chapels,  ue 
organ  belonging  to  the  Latans 
was  being  played,  and  the 
solemn  strains  pealed  grandly 
through  the  immense  building. 
Wo  visited  the  so-called 
Chapel  of  the  Crucifixion,  and 
other  tiaditional  spots;  but 
as  these  are  all  apocryphal  I 
shall  not  describe  them. 

£.  £.  S. 


/_ 


/ 


^i  €\m  anb  tfee  %mut 


ITTLE  river,  little  river. 

Gliding  thus  so  swiftly  on, 
Say  if  any  work  you  do 
As  3'our  course  you  run. 


Listen,  child,  and  I  will  tell  you, 
Simple  is  my  work  and  small ; 

But  'tis  better  to  do  little 
Than  do  none  at  all. 

Well  I  know  I'm  not  the  ocean — 
No  great  ships  can  I  upbear — 

But,  though  small,  my  gentle  waters 
Can  make  all  aruund  me  fair. 

Where  I  pass,  the  grass  looks  greener 
On  my  banks  the  willows  grow ; 

And  their  roots  I  strive  to  nourish 
As  1  onward  tiow. 

Barren  places  where  I  run 

Lose  tlieir  drearv  look  ; 
Little  tishes  sport  m  la^ 

In  many  a  secrel  hooVl. 


THB  gABBATH  BOHOLAB'B  TBIABUBT. 


So,  you  see,  thoagh  small  and  lowly, 
I  have  still  some  work  to  do ; — 

Cbild,  I  ask  you  in  return, 
What  aorlf  of  work  have  you  ? 

Little  river,  little  river, 

Thank  you  for  the  lesson  taught ; 
Until  now  I  was  too  lowly 

To  do  any  work,  I  thought. 

But,  henceforth,  I  will  endeavour 
All  around  to  soothe  and  cheer; 

Making,  like  thy  gentle  waters. 
Barren  places  look  la-s  drear. 

True,  like  thee,  I'm  small  and  lowly, 

No  great  work  can  I  fultil ; 
But  some  little  spots  around  me 

I  can  water  if  1  wilL 

I'll  seek  out  the  poor  and  suffering. 
All  unknown  to  earth  and  fame, 

And  I'll  whisper  words  of  comfort. 
Speaking  in  my  Saviour's  name. 

Telling  how  He  bids  the  weary 
Come  and  lean  upon  His  breast ; 

Bidding  all  the  heavv  laden 
Come,  and  He  will  give  them  rest 

Tes !  I  hear  my  heavenly  Father 
Speaking  to  me  from  the  sky. 

Saving,  though  I  am  young  and  lowly, 
There  is  work  for  such  as  L 


M.  H. 


■.•V^   ■^   V^  N^  V*' *^  %-  - 


iBing. 


|T  is  recorded  in  history 
that  a  certain  phi- 
losopher of  ancient 
times  was  one  day 
ed,  "  What  does  a  man 
iby  telUngalie?"  "Not 
•e  believed,"  said  he,  "even 


this  answer  of  a  wise  man, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  re- 
member that  He  who  is  greater 
and  wiser  than  the  wisest  of 
men  hath  said,  that  "  all  liars 
shall  have  their  portion  in 
the  lake  that  bometh  with  fire 

n    he    tells    the    truth.*'  I  and   brimBtone."— Kev.    xii. 

mg^  readers,  bear  In  mind  !  8. 

I*i5 


f|f  glissimi  litlb. 


J^ESb     people  at  large  ma; 

Btuid  TiDder  a  tre«,  or  eonie 
TBcimt  apdt  at  the  side  of  a 
public  road.  But  in  Calcrntla, 
with  a  Tiew  to  moke  aucli 
efforts  syetemAtic,  uid  to 
Goniuct  tbcm  in  tea  orderly 
oDuTenieDt  njaDuer,  tipeiience 


they  ai6  teXliet  primifive 
Bimctares.  iHiiDg  only  a  en- 
perior  kind  of  hut ;  bat  they 
proiide  conveDient  apace  for 
tbo  hearera,  Fomfortable  Beats, 
and  a  roof  otcc  head  to 
ehelter  them.  Let  ua  took 
iuto  6ne  of  the  vsry  bert  in 
Calfntta,— thf  chflpd  ot  the 
Qeneril  Aasembly  o(  the 
Choroh  ot  Scotland,  Com 
wallia  Sqiitttp.  it  Mia  h  at 
a  comer  wherr  tivy  great 
thoToagbfarea  crosa  each 
oCber,  and  ie  a  Fonspicuons 
object.  It  is  about  tbiitv 
leet  square,  and  fifteen  feet 
high;  an  Ibe  road-Bids  area 
number  of  brick  pillars  I  lanng 
tbpToof,  wliicli  form  the  four 
Bidpp.slopfisupttardaleapoiut, 
anJ  in  also  supported  bv  thick 
mwden  poBta,  which  rise  from 
the  emtie  of  the  floot.    T^e 


roof  ia  corered  w 
round  tilea ;  and 
plaoes  the  piaster 
from  tlie  pillarB  an^ 
Iflto  inner  walls,  in  pi 
the  saltpetre  which 
the  fonndoliona.  Tl 
tiled;  there  are  no 
and  neither  glaas  no 
whether  for  window 
appear  in  the  whd 
The  doors  are  large 
bamboo  and  mat.  and 
the   openings  bet 


lillari 


ed,  leaving  1 
sides  of  the  place  all 
A  amall  railed  pie 
foot  high,  with  a  b 
in  front,  stands  sg 
back  -wall ;  and  in  t 
imd  on  both  aides, 
bcnchea,  for  the  aci 
tion  ot  the  hearers, 
not  possess  the  Ininr; 
On  the  whole  it  seen 
fi  for  tliv  instrnctioi 
speitatlp  raRged  aohi 
the  plac. 


1.  Ihc 


t  t 


(or  gathering  a  nM 


gregati 


The    t 


finished  their  day's  i 
are  going  home ;  ■ 
paes  along  tbe  grrat  I 
fares  near  the  cb»f 
enJLea  stream.    Sml 


<  i  How 


I   the 


THX  gkXBATB  8CBOLAB*8  TBEAEURT. 


the  pnUio  ofSeeB. 
is  pMB  rapidly ; 
Banying  burdens; 
irts  liden  frith  begs 

bales  of  cloth;  a 
a  load  of  wood  on 

a  few  house  ser- 
i  messenger  with 
ing  a  bnwd  badge 

waist ;  with  many 
urions  employments 
ta,  hasten  on  their 

chapel  is  now  light 
nmerons  lanterns, 
mi  the  roof,  or  np- 
porting  posts,  and 
lamps,  specially 
e  to  the  defdc ;  and 
vonld  look  gay  and 
were  it  not  for  the 
long  the  rafters  of 

and  the  general 
ffance  of  the  place. 

MENT  OF  SEBYIOE. 

issionary  arriyes 
one,  perhaps  with 
oUeagne  or  a  native 
od  enters  the  place, 
nothing  specially 
oat  him.  No  con- 
s  waiting  his  ap- 
There  is  actually 

the  place.  The 
le  two  missionaries 
in  the  desk,  and 
I  read,  in  a  clear, 

a  portion  of  the 
i  it  be  a  parable, 
r  of  one  of  the 
le  Ten  Command- 
Paul's  sermon  at 
his  last  passage, 
jr,  is  ncTer  to  bo 
stood  except  in  a 
>j,  Bnrrotmded  hj 


twenty  temples,  and  by  gronpe 
of  devotees,  who  are  either 
presenting  their  offerings  of 
frnits  and  flowers,  or  pros- 
trate before  the  idol  at  their 
prayers.  Sometimes,  though 
rarely,  no  one  comes  in  duriri^r 
the  reading;  and  though  tiie 
reader  continues,  the  streets 
may  remain  deserted,  and  the 
desired  congregation  fail  to 
appear.  Generally  it  happens 
that  during  the  reading  one 
comes  in,  Uien  another,  and 
perhaps  twelve  or  sixteen  may 
be  collected  by  the  time  it  is 
finished. 

THE  BEBMON. 

Then  the  preacher  stands 
up  and  proceeds  with  his  dis- 
course. He  gives  out  no  text ; 
but  merely  stating  that  he  will 
describe  a  story  taken  from 
the  Word  of  God,  he  proceeds 
to  relate  it,  and  fills  up  all 
details  of  time,  place, ,  and 
circumstance,  as  if  his  hearers 
had  never  heard  such  a  thing 
before.  He  expounds,  illus- 
trates by  stories  and  incidents, 
argues,  explains,  enforces. 
The  hearers  listen  with  at- 
tention ;  sometimes  one  will 
object,  and  he  must  be  wisely 
silence^  till  the  end,  or  his 
objection  skilfully  woven  into 
the  thread  of  the  discourse, 
and  answered.  If  the  hearers 
are  interested  they  will  remain, 
and  at  a  striking  argument,  a 
pointed  story,  or  a  good-hum- 
oured exposure  of  their  gods, 
they  will  laugh,  or  say,  **  Capi- 
tal I  "  If  not  interested  they 
wJU  go  away  alter  a  ie^  m\- 


TH£  SABBATH  SGHOLAB'S  TBXA8UBT; 


nates,  and  others  come  :  these 
also  go  after  a  time,  and  others 
take  their  places :  and  so  there 
is  a  perpetual  current  of 
change  going  on  through  the 
whole  service. 

A  wise  missionary  will  be 
careful  to  repeat  the  essential 
principle  of  his  discourse  three 
or  four  times  as  he  goes  on ; 
so  that  all  may  understand 
the  subject  he  is  seeking  to 
enforce,  and  safely  carry  it 
away.  At  times,  with  an 
earnest  and  impressive  sermon, 
a  large  portion  of  the  con- 
gregation will  remain  the 
entire  time.  Mr  Lacroix 
usually  preached  about  three 
quarters  of  an  hour.  The 
sermon  concluded,  a  short 
prayer  is  offered ;  and  then 
the  people  gather  round  the 
preacher  to  receive  his  tracts 
and  Gospels. 

Thus  goes  on  the  preaching 
of  the  Gospel  to  the  Hindus 
day  oy  day :  unsatisfiactory, 
indeed,  in  its  constant  change 
of  forgetful  hearers;  but 
pleasant  in  the  fact,  that  even 
idolaters  hear  something  of 
the  love  of  Christ,  and  that 
a  few  hear  of  life  eternal. 
The  congregations  are  always 
different ;  perhaps  a  £pw  in- 
dividuals, wishing  to  learn 
about  Christianity,  may  appear 
again  and  again  at  the  same 
place;  and  often  has  it  been 
found,  that  amongst  the 
chance  visitors  at  these 
chapels,  even  men  from  dis- 
tant villages,  who,  among 
other  results  of  a  trip  to  the 
chief  city  of  India,  have  cai- 
128 


ried  home  som< 
and  books  desori] 
religion  of  Jesus  ( 
had  already  hearc 

SUBJECTS  MOST 

The    subjects 

Lacroix  adopted  i 

bazaar-preaching 

which  brought  o 

rectly    and    full] 

doctrines  of    sal 

thought  it   most 

preach  from  thoi 

of  Scripture  in  wl 

doctrines  are  in 

doubtless  the  m* 

ill    disciplined    '. 

greatly  assisted 

this  he  only  folb 

ample  of  the  Gr 

who  has  given  i 

especially    to    m 

ages,   so   much 

embodying    the 

God    and    the 

holy  men.     He 

view  the  imports 

the  knowledge  o: 

was  small,  tiiat 

were  full  of  err 

very    words    he 

liable  to  convey 

and  that  they  i 

misapprehend  w] 

that  all  the  holi 

mercy  of  the  Goi 

to  them ;  and  th 

to    their     errors 

slavery   with   gi 

He  felt  therefore 

much  to  do  in  e: 

excellence   of  tli 

grace,   before  h 

suade  men  to  be 

(3[od.    la  doing 


THB  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*8  TBEASUBT. 


■  to  "use  great 
f  speeeh  ; "  and 
leconnt  a  natural 
leased  of  devising 
lies  in  which  some 
7  could  be  shewn 
it  principle  of  re- 
ese  sinules  were 
n  his  month,  and 
res  are  very  fond 
s  preaching  was 
ble.   •    •    • 

r  YABIOUB  MEW 
>LANS. 

I  the  nsaal  plan 
ic  preaching  ser- 
seyeral  occasions 
vary  his  methods, 
bring  the  Gos- 
nore  directly  and 
ipon  the  classes 
oagh  the  yema- 
)ne  time  he  pre- 
.  letter  to  the  re- 
unilies  near  his 
netting  forth  the 
h,  offering  them 
isldng  permission 
ich  difficulties  as 
feel  respecting 
iceived  only  one 
'  replies. 

er  time  he  pre- 
iries  of  lectures 
.ences  of  Christi- 
h    a    number    of 

not  attached  to 
tary   school,   had 

wish  to  receive, 
ffered  to  attend 
By  the   time   he 

third,  they  en- 
eared. 

le  attended  the 
be  moining,  ait- 


ting  there  for  two  or  three 
hours,  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
versing with  individuals,  and 
hoping  to  find  some  inquirers. 
But  Hindus  who  come  in- 
dividually to  ask  for  simplest 
explanation  from  a  mis- 
sionary, or  visit  him  in  private, 
soon  become  marked  men ; 
and  no  one  ventured.  The 
ever-changing  congregations 
in  bazaar  chapels  are  una- 
ware of  the  varied  endeavours 
made  to  get  a  closer  hold  of 
their  souls,  and  desire  no 
benefit  from  them.  Nothing 
is  left,  therefore,  but  to  con- 
tinue the  services  with  as 
much  regularity  and  efficiency 
as  possible.     .     .    . 

OBSTACLES    AND     ENCOUIIAGK- 
MEKTS. 

Though  the  shifting  nature 
of  these  Hindu  congregations 
rendered  native  preaching  very 
much  a  work  of  beating  the 
rair,  still,  by  means  of  informa- 
tion obtained  by  individuals, 
and  the  tracts  and  Scriptures 
given  to  them,  much  know- 
ledge of  the  Gospel  has  been 
spread  abroad,  and  the  eyes 
of  multitudes  have  been  di- 
rected to  Jesus  as  the  one 
Saviour  in  whom  they  are  ex- 
horted to  believe.  The  fre- 
I  quent  encounters,  too,  with 
[  an  idolatrous  system  so  in- 
defensible as  that  of  Hinduism 
— encounters  in  which  it  is 
impossible  for  the  nystem  to 
obtain  the  victory — have  pro- 
duced very  widely  the  general 
conviction,  that  its  days  are 
numbered,  and  ihal  «i\>  t^ni^ 

1^^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB  8  TBB48X7BT. 


fatnre  time  it  will  give  place 
to  Chrietianity.  But  the  caste 
role  gives  the  system  im- 
mense strength ;  and,  humanly 
speaking,  decades  of  years 
may  pass  hefore  a  res^ly 
effective  hlow  is  struck  at  the 
frame-work  which  it  has  taken 
three  thousand  years  to  huild. 
Shifting  its  applications  with 
the  changes  of  each  passing 
Ag^t  i^  y^t  maintains,  in  full 
activity,  all  its  essential  prin- 
ciples. Nothing  can  he  more 
directly  effective  in  undermin- 
ing it  than  Christian  know- 


ledge ;  and  saeh 
has  sufifiered.  Thi 
the  people  have  b* 
sively  prepared  f 
changes,  the  way  c 
the  agencies  securec 
ing  them.  More  th 
dividuals  have  beei 
from  the  system  b] 
of  a  divine  hand,  ai 
cases,  movements 
place  on  a  large  f 
have  carried  off  h 
its  disciples,  an 
them  to  the  feet  o: 
MemoriaU  of  Lacr 


|or  '§ti(WiUxs, 


I  HEN  any  one  was 
speaking  ill  of 
another  in  the 
presence  of  Peter 
the  Great,  he  at  first  listened 
to  him  attentively,  and  then 


interrupted  him. 
not,"  said  he,  "  a  fk 
to  the  character  of 
of  whom  yon  are 
Tell  me  what  good  q 
have  remarked  aboi 


oiittts. 


I 


^HO  that  has  been 
in  the  Spirit  on 
the  Lord's  day, 
and  has  then  ex- 
p^ienced  rest  from  the  world, 
and  rest  in  \he  special  enjoy- 
ment and  service  of  his  God 
and  Saviour,  but  can  say,  like 
a  learned  judge  ? — 

**  A  Sabbath  well  spent 
Brings  a  week  of  content" 

2.  The  inspired    motto  of 
the  Apostle  Panl, — 

"Mc  man  lives  to  bimaokl!," 

ISO 


was  very  precious 
Baikes,  a  wealthy 
owner,  in  Gloncest 
near  the  end  of  h 
he  was  stirred  up  b^ 
after  the  inmates  of 
prison,  educating 
wise  caring  for  Uic 
ing  np  for  the  b 
wrought  in  this  a  gi 
But  he  was  deeply 
see  profanity  anc 
breaking  abound  f 
throughout  Englai 


XHX  gABBiATH  8CH0LAB*B  TBEASUBT. 


DOther,  and  Another,  with  Philip  Heni^',  father  of 
tr  years  no  less  than  Matthew,  who,  to  this  day,  is 
hildren  belonged  to  a  j  the  '*  prince  of  commentators." 
aded  by  a  noble  army  5.  The  renowned  African 
3er  teachers.  The  ',  explorer  and  former  mission- 
as  marvelloas !  It  &ry,  Dr  Livingstone,  says — 
Je  hiter  whra  John  u  ^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^  geographical 
and  J.  A.  Haldane  ,  ^^^  ^  ^j^^  the  beginning  of 
d  a  like  blessed  ^he  missionary  enterprise." 
k^otland,  where  few 

)ls  then  existed.  In  6.  How  nscfal  in  these  and 
were  greatly  aided  kindred  good  enterprises  it  is 
of  the  nobles,  es-  to  remember  the  motto  of 
he  then  venerable  John  Eliot.  Acting  on  it,  this 
)f  Leven.  wonderful  man  gave,  in  100^), 

1  can  conceive  of  the  the  first  printed  Bible  to 
salts  of  these  insti-  America.  It  was  prepared  for 
1  the  past  or  the  Indian  savages,  the  Mohawks, 
3n  the  great  day which  race  has  entirely  passed 


tn — ^will  they  be  fully 

stated,  thst  when 
of  Wellington  was 
a  young  clergyman 
inrch   of   England, 

was  his  duty  to  be- 
ssionary,  his  Grace 


away!  How  strange!  A  lone 
civilized,  nay,  learned  man, 
living  in  the  woods,  among 
red  men.  Nay !  thus  living 
on  and  on  for  many  years. 
At  the  same  time,  writing,  and 
writing  with  his  own  hands, 
from  the  first  verse  of  Genesis 


itically  replied,  |  to  the  end  of  the  Revelation — 


to  yonr  marching 
orders." 


writing,  too,  in   this   strange 
tongue,  its  words  of  seven  or 
even  ten  syllables.      lUmem- 
g  man  looked,  and  \  ber  there  was  no  alphabet  in 
e  who  is  **  God  over  ;  the  language  when  he  begun. 


)  Captain  of  Salva- 
nmands,    in    Mark 


He  had  to  contrive,  form,  and 
arrange  eveiij  letter.  Yet 
though  doubtless  often  faint, 
laeh  the  Gospel  to  !  ^e  stiU  pursued.  At  last  he 
ry  creature,"  '  fi»i8^«d  his  gigantic,  self-im- 

I  posed  task,  pioving  the  truth 
iginning  and  cari'y-  :  of  his  motto, 

y  undertaking,  keep  '  « -.  j       .       ^,.        «      i 

^  J  ,   Grayer   and  pains,  through     ' 

i     faith  in  Chilst,  can  do  any- 

tid  provender  never  \     thing." 

jr  a  journey,"  ''      n    j  a    a  v         v. 

I       7.  Indeed,  says  a  biograph- 

%  itLYounte  thought    er  of  this  ^^  apobUe  to  Wielii-    \ 

1^1 


\ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBA8UBT. 


dians,"  as  he  has  been  called, 
when  speaking  of  his  motto, 
**  romance  and  poetry  are  veiy 
fine  things  to  talk  about,  but 
the  world  is  to  be  conquered 
only  by  '  prayer  and  painsj'  " 

8.  The  duty  of  instant 
action  is  beautifully  shewn  by 
Fitzgerald  Matthew,  a  convert 
in  the  West  Indies.  Does  not 
this  poor,  yet  redeemed  negro, 
give  a  noble  example  to  the  re- 
fined Christians,  of  Great 
Britian  ?  At  a  congregational 
meeting  he  was  asked  to  allow 
his  name  to  be  put  down  for  a 
subscription  in  the  great  cause. 
He  came  forward,  and  although 
urgently  told  this  was  not  the 
time  for  (jivin/f^  yet  he  gave 
handsomely,  for  his  wife,  his- 
daughter,  and  self,  saying, 

**  The  work  must  be  done,  and 
we  may  be  dead." 

What  a  privilege  to  be  a 
*'  hewer  of  wood  or  drawer  of 
water"  when  the  Lord's  house 
is  a  building ! 

9.  With  like  eaergy  acted 
Mr  Charles,  in  Wales,  in  1802, 
It  was  then  he  commenced  the 
movement  for  the  Bible 
Societv,  named  the  British 
and  Foreign.  This,  and 
kindred  institutions  afterwards 
formed,  and  so  nuch  needed, 
have  circalated  copies  of  the 
Word  of  Life,  bv  thousands 
and  millions.  And  onwards 
and  onwards  are  they  pro- 
gressing, in  translating,  print- 
ing, and  sowing  broad-caat  the 
precious  seed  over  the  field, 
which  is  the  world.  How  ap- 
proprifite  the  motto   of  that 

132 


humble  but  honoiired 
of  Christ, 

"  There  is  no  diiHeii] 
God." 

10.  Nor  should  w 
the  noble  motto  of  th( 
Dr  Carey.  He  eheerli 
before  setting  out  fc 
where  his  labours  wei 
measure f  and  his  snct 
can  estimate  f — 

"  I  will  go  down  ai 
the  mine,  if  you  i 
the  rope." 

I  will  go  down  into  fh 
of  heathenism,  and  i 
salvation    d    these 
souls,  if  you  promise  t( 
me  by  your  meam, 
pecially  by  your  pray^ 

11.  William  Bof 
reasoned  with  by  an  a 
that  at  his  age,  neai 
he  should  scarcely  i 
going  to  AfHca,  hem 
it  would  be  for  him  tc 
new  tongue,  to  whi 
the  Latin  wooM  be  i 
As  a  true  hero  of  the ' 
replied, 

''I  will  just  put  a  Bto 
to  a  Btey  brae. 

In  God^s  promised 
to  the  poor  heathen  I 
and  learn  their  langoi 
I  rejoice  at  the  Uio 
being  able  to  make  k 
them  the  unsearchabl 
of  Christ. 

12. "  Onwards,  U^war 

▼enwarda!    *Iiooiki 

Jesus.' " 

B. 

*  Steele  hilL 


DSA.LEM  iB  Bitu-    the  Utter  to  the  tiortb  of  the      | 
ted   DD   the  bocilei:    city.     At  the  divisiMi  by  lot, 
etweeu  Jndali  and  .  ftt    3hilah,    of   the   land   of     I 
eDjsmin,    tlis  i  Canaan   among  the  bftia^  ol     \ 
J lo  Ibe  eoath,  sad  \  iBraeliU-nuoueotthetouiVeim 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBFASITBT. 


cities  which  fell  to  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin.  But  although 
the  Benjamites  seem  to  have 
called  in  the  assistance  of 
their  brethren  of  Judah,  thej' 
were  unable  to  drive  out  the 
Jebusites,  who  were  not  finally 
dispossessed  till  the  time  of 
David,  who  took  the  strong- 
hold of  Zion,  and  made  it  a 
royal  city,  calling  it  "  the  City 
of  David." 

During  our  stay  at  Jeru- 
salem, we  made  two  excursions 
through  the  surrounding  dis- 
trict. On  the  morning  of  the 
19th  of  March,  we  started  from 
Jerusalem  for  the  purpose  of 
visiting  the  lower  valley  of  the 
Jordan,  the  Dead  Sea,  and 
Hebron.  Crossing  the  Kedron, 
we  took  the  road  to  Bethanv — 
the  same  road  by  which,  strew- 
ed with  the  garments  of  the 
multitude,  and  resounding  with 
their  Hosannahs,  the  Saviour 
made  His  triumphal  entry  in- 
to Jerusalem.  This  road,  so 
often  trod  bv  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
winds  around  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  There  is  one  point  at 
which  the  view  of  that  portion 
of  the  city  where  stood  the  \ 
Temple,  bursts  upon  the  view  i 
of  the  traveller  towards  Jem-  : 
salem,  and  here  was  doubtless  ; 
where  the  Saviour  "  beheld  the 
city  and  wept  over  it." 

Bethany,  interesting  as  the 
residence  of  that  famil/  whom  ' 
Jesus  loved,  and  as  the  scene 
of  the  Ascension,  is  situated 
about  three  miles  from  Jeru- 
salem, ou  the  eastern  slope  uf 
Olivet.  On  the  hill  side,  in 
the  immediate  neighbour\ioo3., 
134 


we  noticed  several  cv 
out  of  the  soft  rock 
which  may  have  li 
scene  of  the  resurre 
Lazarus. 

The  country,  aftei 
Bethany,  was  very  b 
uninteresting.     Our 
between  low  limesto 
the  sameness  of  eol 
scanty   vegetation    < 
were  wearisome  to 
Here,   on  the  road 
Jerusalem   and  Jeri< 
the  scene  of  the  pi 
the    good    Samarita 
now,  as  then,  this  : 
noted  for  its  lawless  e 
Indeed,  it  is  dangero 
traveller  to  visit  it  w 
escort,  and  we  had  t 
precaution  of  engagii 
three    Bedouiu  Aral 
guard,      whose      pi 
costumes  formed  an 
variety    in      the 
monotonous  landsca] 
some    hours,     howe 
scenery  assumed    a 
character,  and  for  c 
tance  the  path  lay  i 
edge   of  a  wild  rav 
called   £1  Kelt,  the 
which  are  almost  si 
ci  pices  of  between 
500  feet.     In  the  sid 
ravine,  and  seeminglj 
sible  to  human  feet, 
caves,   which    were 
inhabited  by  hermits 

We  now  comme 
last  stage  of  our  des 
that  extraordinary  d 
in  the  earth's  snr&ce 
which   the  Jordan  ] 


nn  SABBATH  KHOULB  8  TBEABURT. 


letk.  No  stream 
ym  the  Dead  Sea 
ir  reodved  from 
and  other  riTers 
Hj  exhaaeted  by 
The  valley   of 

here  lies  1300 
the  level  of  the 
Em,  and  the  heat 
mtly   very    great. 

the  brook  which 
;h  Wady  el  Kelt, 

is  believed  to 
k  Cherith,  where 

fed  by  ravens 
reat  famine  in  the 
lb.  Its  banks  are 
I  a  Inxmriant  foli- 
ndeed,  the  whole 

here  present  the 
01  English  park, 
;  for  t^e  tropical 
the  vegetation 
tain,  £s  Sultan, 
>w  visited,  marks 
ident  Jericho,  and 
dly  the  fountain 
isha,  and  of  which 
mains  sweet  unto 
I  we  tested  by  a 
ight.  Our  camp- 
for  the  night  was 
he  modem  repre- 
r  Jericho.  The 
ras  magnificent, 
f  an  extensive 
rich  valley  of  the 
of  the  fine  moun- 
of  Moab.  Well 
aen  of  Jericho  of 
tlisha,  "  the  situa- 
ity  is  pleasant,  as 
ih." 

).— This  morning 
eurly,  having  before 
eot  of  a  Jong  and  / 


fatiguing  day^s  journey.  An 
hour's  gallop  across  the 
beautiful  park  -  like  plain, 
brought  us  to  the  Jordan,  at 
the  place  where  the  Greek 
pilgrims  bathe  at  Kaster.  Tlie 
river  is  here  about  thirtv 
vards  broad,  and  has  a  eon- 
Biderable  resemblance,  in  the 
size  and  appearance  of  itH 
waters,  to  the  Tiber,  near 
Kome ;  but,  unlike  that  river, 
it  is  richlv  wooded  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  the  «olean- 
ders,  tamarisks,  and  other 
shrubs  forming  in  many 
places  an  almost  impenetrable 
thicket,  affording  secure  shel- 
ter to  many  wild  animals. 
The  bear,  wolf,  and  hyena,  are 
still  common  in  Palestine, 
and  panthers  too  are  occa- 
sionally seen,  especially  in 
the  region  of  Mount  Hermon. 
But  the  king  of  the  forest  has 
now  disappeared,  and  is  no 
longer  to  be  seen  coming  up 
"from  the  swelling  of  Jor- 
dan," as  described  by  the 
prophet  Jeremiah. 

Near  this  spot  must  have 
**  passed  over  on  dry  ground," 
the  host  of  Israel,  when  they 
entered  the  promised  land ; 
and  here,  too,  is  the  place 
where  *'  Elijah  took  his 
mantle  and  wrapped  it  to- 
gether, and  smote  the  waters, 
and  they  were  divided  hither 
and  thither,  so  that  they  two 
went  over  on  dry  land ;"  and 
on  yonder  side,  as  "  they  still 
went  and  talked,  behold,  there 
appeared  a  chariot  of  fire  and 
horses  of  fire,"  and.  "^wV.^^. 
Elijah    from   EUaha,    "  wA 

1^^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEASUBT. 


/ 


L 


Elijah  went  ap  by  a  whirlwind 
into  heaven."  Nor  does  this 
exhaust  the  interest  of  the 
spot.  An  event  of  still  deeper 
and  more  sacred  interest  is 
believed  to  have  occurred  here, 
for  this  is  probably  the  place 
where  Jesus  came  to  John  the 
Baptist  to  be  baptized ;  and 
standing  here,  we  could  have 
no  doubt  as  to  the  *' wilder- 
ness "  into  which,  after  His 
baptism,  He  "  was  led  up  of 
the  Spirit,"  to  be  tempted  of 
the  devil.  It  must  have  been 
the  wilderness  of  Judea,  which 
rises  behind  us  in  rugged 
desolation. 

Our  ride  to  the  shores  of 
the  Dead  Sea,  was  across  a  flat 
sandy  plain,  on  which  our 
Arab  guards  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  their 
horsemanship.  Laying  the 
bridle  on  their  horse's  neck, 
they  would  start  at  full  gallop 
across  the  plain ;  and  then, 
with  quivering  lance,  make 
mock  charges  at  us.  The 
Dead  Sea,  instead  of  present- 
ing that  gloomy  and  repulsive 
aspect  which  is  usually  attri- 
buted to  it,  struck  us  as  being 
exceedingly  beautiful.  The 
water  was  exquisitely  pure  and 
blue,  and  the  mountains  of 
Moab,  descending  steeply  on 
the  east  to  the  waters'  edge, 
reminded  me  of  our  Scotch 
mountains.  The  heat  was 
very  oppressive,  the  air  quiver- 
ing as  it  only  does  under  in- 
tense heat,  and  we  enjoyed  a 
bathe  in  the  cool  waters.  The 
water  ia  very  salt  and  acrid, 
taid  exceedingly  buoyant. 
126 


Our    faces  and  ha 
coming    out,  were 
with  salt.     The  De 
about  forty  miles  '. 
the   cities   of   the 
supposed  to  have  bee 
near   tJie   southern 
no    authentic    remi 
been  discovered. 

The  region  betweei 
Sea  and  the  convei 
Saba,  where  we  wer 
the  night,  cannot  be 
for    the    wild    and 
character  of  its  scen^ 
ascent  from  the  valle 
the  ravines   of  the 
ness   of  Engedi," 
toilsome,  and  our  Ai 
lost  their  way,  so  tb 
late    before   we   rea 
convent.     For    the 
the  road  was  along  tl 
a  magnificent  ravin( 
which  Hows  the  Ee 
in   the    precipitous 
which   are    quarried 
anchorites,     like 
had  previously  obser 
Wady  el  Kelt.     Th« 
is    grandly    situatec 
brink  of  this  ravine, 
of    its     straggling 
clinging    to   the    si 
small   glen,   which 
the  main  one.     It  l 
the  Greek  church,  ( 
of    the  richest    coi 
Palestine. 

It  was  a  lovely  n; 
stars  shining  througl 
air,  in  a  cloudless  sli 
pure  and  dazzling  lui 
seen  in  our  northc 
,  Perhaps  some  such 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEABUBT. 


from  Saul  in  this  very  region — 
lay  with  no  canopy  save  that 
of  the  heavens,  prompted  him 
to  hreak  out  into  that  beauti- 


ful psalm  of  praise  : — "  The  !  knowledge." 
heavens   declare  the  glory  of  I 


God,  and  the  firmament 
sheweth  His  handiwork.  Day 
unto  day  uttereth  speech,  and 
night    unto    night    sheweth 


£j*  £.  »■ 


<^abbiitl^-freaking. 


TEACHER  having 
observed  two  boys 
behaving  improperly 
in  the  streets  one 
Sabbath  afternoon,  repriman- 
ded them  severely.  One  of 
the  boys  said,  *'  We  are  only 
playing,  sir."  To  which  the 
teacher  very  properly  replied, 
that  it  was  wrong  even  to  play 
on  the  Lord's-day,  especially 
in  the  public  streets.    Sunday 


scholars  ought  always  to  re- 
turn from  school  in  the  most 
orderly  manner,  recollecting 
that  though  they  are  unper- 
ceived  by  their  teachers,  He 
who  has  commanded  them  to 
"  keep  holy  the  Sabbath-day  " 
sees  with  displeasure  every 
neglect  of  His  commandment, 
and  will  one  day  call  them  to 
give  an  account  of  every  idle 
word  and  thought. 


^t  Ultsston  lielb— ©ttr  InMa  ^isswn. 


;W0  exceedingly  inter- 
esting letters  from 
the  Convener  of  the 
India  Mission  Com- 
mittee, have  recently  been 
published  in  the  Missionary 
Record,  Had  our  space  per- 
mitted we  would  have  afforded 
our  readers  the  pleasure  of 
perusing  both  of  these  import- 
ant and  encouraging  letters ; 
but  we  can  give  only  the  con- 
clusion of  the  last  of  them. 

**  Before  enumerating,  as  I 
shall  do  before  closing,  all  the 
agencies  in  connexion  with 
our  India  Mission,  I  must 
give  some  aceonnt  of  what  the 


Mission  does,  or  proposes  to 
do. 

"  You  are  aware  that  much 
difference  of  opinion  has  exist- 
ed among  the  friends  of  India 
Missions,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  as  to  the  best  methods 
of  bringing  the  natives  of 
India  to  recognize  Jesns 
Christ  as  their  Saviour. 

**  All  parties  are  agreed  in 
seeking  the  same  ultimate 
end; — not  the  mere  enlight- 
enment of  the  heathen  mind, 
nor  the  mere  conversion  of 
individuals,  but  the  gathering 
them  into  C1ai\e.\.\»5i  wi<JAfi5^«^ 
— the  \)\n\d\na  u-o,  Vtv  ^fisvotS.^ 

\3A 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB^S  TBBASUSr. 


of  a  native  Christian  Church, 
and,  if  possible,  a  self-sup- 
porting one,  over  all  India. 
'  What  outward  form  that 
Church  shall  take  has  been 
with  most  Churches  a  minor 
question ;  but  in  so  far  as  it 
can  be  determined  by  Euro- 
pean influence,  it  has  been  so 
in  accordance,  necessaiily, 
with  the  convictions  of  the 
different  missionary  bodies. 

*'  But  how  shall  the  great 
end,  which  all  have  at  heart  — 
the  Christianizing  of  the 
heathen — be  best  accom- 
plished? By  schools  or  by 
preaching  ?  If  by  schools,  by 
what  .  kind?  Vernacular 
schools,  or  high-class  schools. 
With  instruction  in  science 
and  European  literature,  as 
well  aa  from  the  Bible  ?  Or, 
if  not  by  schools,  should  all 
missionary  effort  be  concen- 
trated on  preaching?  And  if  i 
by  preaching,  ought  it  to  be 
by  natives  aJone,  trained  for 
the  ministry  in  Mission  insti- 
tutions, or  by  Europeans  also  ? 
I  am  not  perhaps  stating  those 
questions  with  definite  ac- 
curacy ;  but  such,  you  well 
know,  are  the  kind  of  ques- 
tions, branching  into  innum- 
erable details,  of  greater  or 
less  importance,  which  have 
been  discussed  at  home  or 
abroad  in  connexion  with  I 
India  Missions. 

**  Now  the  fact  is,  that  our 
Church  approves,  and  always  ! 
has  approved,  of  all  these 
methods;  and,  viewing  our 
Mission  as  a  whole,  she  has 
prscticalij  adopted  all  ol  tihem 


— teaching  in 
schools,  female  si 
orphanages,  and 
schools;  with  pre 
means  of  catechis 
ates,  and  ordained 
both  native  and  Ec 
all  are  at  this  i 
operation.  Our 
agency  in  India  is 
miserably  and  mou 
but  not  our  idea  < 
Mission.  Our  shi 
our  charts  are  goo 
course  is  clearly 
but  we  are  too  dan. 
want  of  hands  to  W' 
'*  I  am  not  ignor 
has  been  written  ' 
ence  to  how  Indit 
should  be  conducte 
carefully  perused  tl 
given  by  missionary 
denomination,  at 
ences"  held  both  in 
try  and  in  India, 
tolerably  well  acqui 
the  results,  as  fai 
can  be  discoverec 
svstem  which  has  I 
ed  for  converting  1 
of  Hindostan ;  an 
viction  gathers  s 
additional  informs 
as  a  tcholet  the  ide 
ctived  and  propoi 
Inglis,  and  since  ' 
matically  carried  ox 
forty  years  by  Dr 
continued  also  in 
Missions,  is  the 
most  successful  in 
viewed  as  a  prepi 
harvests  in  the  fiiti 
as  [itself  a  harres 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAB  8  TBBiSUBT. 


attempted  in  tlip  same  field  of 
labour. 

**  Is  it  of  importance  to  get 
at  the  hearts  of  the  young 
before  they  are  utterly  cor- 
rupted by  heathenism?— and 
to  enlighten  the  minds  of 
young  men  with  such  know- 
ledge as  destroys  all  belief  in 
the  monstrous  falsehoods  of 
idolatry?— and  to  train  the 
rising  generation  to  under- 
stand and  receive  truth  as 
well  as  to  reject  lies? — and, 
above  all,  to  rear  a  thoroughly 
efficient  native  ministry,  cap- 
able of  exercising  a  social, 
intellectual,  and  moral  influ- 
ence on  their  country  ?  These 
ends  are  accomplished  by  the 
Mission  school,  with  its  Chris- 
tian literature,  its  Christian 
instruction,  its  truth  taught 
in  every  department  of  know- 
ledge, and  that  by  ordained 
ministers  of  the  Gospel,  them- 
selves men  of  culture  and  piety, 
who  have  gone  abroad  with 
one  aim  ever  present  to  their 
minds  —  to  win  souls  to 
Christ! 

"  Christian  education  fully 
carried  out  is  thus  the  best 
means  for  reaching  the  higher 
and  most  influential  classes  of 
Hindoo  society,  for  preparing 
the  way  for  the  reception  of  a 
preached  Gospel  in  later  as 
well  as  earlier  years,  and  for 
forming  such  intelligent  and 
well-instructed  native  congre- 
gations as  will  prove  bright 
and  steadily  burning  lights 
amidst  the  darkness  of  hea- 
thendom ;  and  finally,  is  the 


only  means,  to  use  a  mercan- 
tile phrase,  of  doing  a  whole- 
sale business,  by  rearing  an 
educated  native  ministry, 
without  which  the  establish- 
ment and  continuance  of  a 
Christian  Church  in  India  is 
simply  impossible. 

"But,  as  I  have  already 
said,  our  Scotch  Mission  was 
never  intended  to  be,  and 
never  has  been  confined  to 
schools,  however  admirable, 
but  has  embraced  every  kind 
of  eflioient  agency  which  ex- 
perience has  proved  to  be  best 
suited  in  the  particular  lo- 
cality, or  to  meet  the  special 
circuniitances  of  the  Mission, 
for  carrying  out  God's  work  of 
establishing  His  kingdom. 

"  To  cry  down  this  system 
as  the  fruit  of  unbelief,  and 
to  substitute  what  is  called 
"  preaching  "  for  it  in  every 
place  and  in  all  circum- 
stances, betrays,  in  my  humble 
opinion,  either  great  ignor- 
ance or  weak  fanaticism. 

"  But  let  us  only  get  men 
— men  of  the  right  stamp  and 
head  and  heart— and,  if  our 
system  is  good,  they  will 
adopt  it ;  if  defective,  they 
will  improve  it ;  or,  if  bad, 
they  will  reject  it,  and  make 
a  right  system  for  themselves. 

"  I  must,  however,  bring 
my  talk  on  our  India  Mission 
to  a  close,  by  giving  yon  a 
statistical  table  of  our  Missions 
as  correctly  as  I  can  make  it 
up  with  the  documents  and 
information  at  present  in  my 
possession. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBXA8UBT. 


Stations. 

s  i  « 

£.2  2 

Native 
Mhers  and 
itechists. 

• 

I 

a 

i 

M  .,.  r^ 

2 

gQ 
6 

H 

21 

a 

1 

1 

'  1.  Galcntta,    .... 

1 

7J 

2.  Bombay,     .... 

2 

2 

20 

3i 

3.  Sealkote,    .... 

2 

1 

7 

li 

4.  Gyah,         .... 

1 

2 

2 

f 

5.  Madras  and  Branch  Schools, 

2 

3 

6 

4( 

(1.)  VellorCy 

•  • 

1 

6 

1( 

(2.)  KandypathoiTy 

•  • 

1 

3 

« 

(3.)  Secunderabad, 

•  • 

9 

1 

•  • 

65 

t 

12 

19( 

(t 


To  this  agency,  connected 
with  our  Church,  we  must  add 
the  Ghospara  Mission  of  Dr 
Muir*8  congregation,  with  its 
catechist  and  two  assistants ; 
and  also  the  very  important 
branch  of  Schools  for  Female 
Education,  which  have  five  or- 
phanages with  upwards  of  150 
girls.  Schools  with  five  lady 
teachers,  including  Ceylon  ; 
with  eight  European  matrons, 
assistants,  and  monitresses, 
attended  by  900  pupils. 

**  I  would  also  remind  your 
readers,  that  we  have  in  ad- 
dition to  our  Mission  staff, 
the  three  Presbyteries  of  Cal- 
cutta, Madras,  and  Bombay, 
to  which  we  may  add  Ceylon, 
with  nineteen  ordained  clergy- 
men, who  take  all  a  deep 
interest,  and  many  of  them  an 
active  part,  in  mission  work. 

**  We  have  thus  connected 
with  our  Church  in  India  and 
CeyloDj   24  ordained  c\eig;j- 
140 


men,  10  European  i 
female  teachers,  It 
preachers  and  catecl 
native  teachers,  6  or{ 
upwards  of  2800  pupi 
male  and  female  Bch( 
6  native  congregatic 
241  communicants. 

*'  In  this  summfl 
native  congregations  i 
agencies  in  Ceylon, 
enumerated. 

''  Let  us,  therefoi 
God  that  so  much  1 
done,  and  take  couit 
us  confess  our  sin 
belief  that  so  little  '. 
done  ;  and  let  us  Bin< 
solve,  and  strive  by  £ 
that  more  will  be  don 
of  the  Church  and  01 

**  In  my  next  letter] 
turn  to  tiie  present  < 
of  our  Mission,  and  a 
the  sums  collected  by 
public  meetings." 


THE 


BATH  SCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


8)0  OTXX  Beabfrs. 


:W     Yeab*8    DatI 

Hov  many  thoughts 

those  words  awaken : 

meetings  of  friends 

lange  of   presents— 

lalntations  —  general 

And  in  conformity 

honoured  custom,  we 

I  all  a  Happy  New 

ul  many  returns  of 

18  season  ! 

low  let  us  consider 
iouB  thoughts  should 
iriod  arrest  our  atten- 
other  year  has  passed 
n  us  for  ever.  How 
employed  it  ?  Are  we 
tter,  holier,  and  hap- 
1  we  were  last  New 
:)ay?  That  is  the 
«tion  for  us  to  ask, 
fully  to  answer.  Well 
)  for  every  one  of  us 
truly  feel  that  the 
has  not  been  spent 
that  we  are  now  more 
fcnd  able  to  resist 
B,  to  restrain  pu- 
mpulse^r,  to   eabdae 


violent  tempers,  and  ahstain 
from  evil  deeds.  Well  for 
every  one  who  has  increased 
satisfaction  in  speaking  truth- 
folly  and  kindly  to  all,  and 
in  conferring  happiness  on  all 
with  whom  we  are  connected. 
Above  all,  it  is  well  for  overv 
one  who  feels  more  sincere  love 
to  God,  and  to  whom  the  name 
of  Jesus  is  more  sacredly  dear. 
But  the  sa<l  and  regietful 
conviction  must  be  forced 
upon  all,  that  little  good  has 
been  accomplished  in  compari- 
son with  what  we  ought  to 
have  done,  desired  to  do,  and 
could  have  performed,  had  we 
been  faithful  to  our  dutv,  and 
sought  earnestly  the  divine 
assistance  which  is  promised 
to  us  in  our  time  of  need.  How 
many  opportunities  of  im- 
proving ourselves  and  doing 
good  to  others  have  been 
neglected  !  How  much  pre- 
cious time  has  been  wasted  ! 
How  many  good  reaolwtloiia 
bare  proved  vain  I   Ho^  mttn'j 

1 


yo.i. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'B  TBEASim. 


excellent  plans  are  still  left 
tmfnlfilled !  Ohl  how  peni- 
tently and  fervently  we  ought 
to  implore  mercy  to  pardon 
and  grace  to  help. 

Another  train  of  thought  is 
suggested.  Not  a  few  of  us 
may  have  been  visited  with 
affliction.  Have  we  been 
enabled  to  trust  and  love  Him 
who  appoints  all  our  duties; 
and  amidst  all  our  sufferings 
to  feel  that  it  is  indeed  a 
Father's  hand  which  is  laid 
upon  us?  Have  we  become 
more  patient,  gentle,  meek, 
and  submissive  ?  If  so,  then 
ihe  past  year  has  been  indeed 
blessed  to  us. 

Some  may  still  be  stretched 
on  beds  of  languishing  through 
the  long  and  weary  day,  and 
the  yet  longer  and  more  weary 
night.  May  the  Great  Phy- 
sician heal  and  comfort  all  so 
tried :  and  may  they  be  en- 
abled to  find  ^at  rest  He 
promises  to  the  weary  and 
heavy  laden  f 

Many  doubtless  have  been 
favoured  with  unbroken  health 
and  unfailing  strength.  Let 
such  ever  grateftdly  remember 
Him  from  whom  all  these 
blessings  proceed,  —the  Father 
of  lights,  from  whom  cometh 
every  good  and  perfect  gift. 

And  now  let  us  consider  our 
duties  with  respect  to  the  year 
upon  which  we  are  entering. 
Oh !  what  progress  we  may 
make,  through  God's  guidance 
and  help,  within  this  year,  in 
wisdom  and  goodness,  if  we 
only  endeavour  wisely  and 
steadfastly  to  strivo  afiet  Itne 
2 


knowledge  and 
And  let  all  rena 
80  many  days  w< 
constitute  a  well 
happy  year.  Let 
her,  likewise,  thai 
sands  of  the  yoni 
healthy  and  joyfi 
Year's  Day,  are 
from  earth  for  eve 
therefore,  as  tim 
certain  for  all,  yoi 
all  ought  eamestl; 
each  day,  and 
month, — redeemii 
In  oonelasion, 
only  a  few  wordc 
this  little  Magaz 
have  we  been  8ad< 
thought  of  our 
attain  the  titandi 
set  up  ;  but  we  ha 
to  do  what  we  ca 
that,  in  God's  gooi 
er  strength  may 
We  gratefully  aofa 
valuable  assistao 
from  able  friends; 
thank  those  who  hi 
recommended  thii 
and  thus  extended 
tion  and  nsefn. 
need  only  repei 
chief  object  is  to 
highest  welfare  of 
and  to  incite  and 
to  feel  a  deep  an 
interest  in  the  pre 
Redeemer's  kmg 
world.  Hoping  t 
little  Journal 
attractive  and 
during  the  year 
we  are  entering,  v 
you  all  every  hi 
\ivme  «(A  l<»t  «teni 


SBS  BABBATH  BOHOLAB*!  IBBA8UBT. 


^t  Piss  ion  iUlh 


SACBIFICSS  IN  INDIA. 

the  proviiMie  of 
Qrisflft,  abont  800 
miles  to  the  sonth 
and  west  of  Calcntta, 
Dorth  of  Madras,  lies 
)un  range  inhabited 
al  wild  and  savage 
An  independent  and 

kingdom      existed 
)    in    that    part     of 
and    native    writers 
in  glowing  language, 
y  and  fertility  of  the 
and  the  magnificence 
ntiea.      More    than 
nturies  have  elapsed 
as  visited  by  Hiocien 
a  celebrated  Chinese 
and  his  acconnt  con- 
Hindoo  statements, 
late  as  1838,  there 
nany  remains  of  its 
a;reatfaess,    that    an 
officer    who   visited 
iot,  declared  that  it 
more   temples,  sa- 
3s,  and  relics,  than  ! 
province  of  Hindo-  ' 
!Jow,    however,    the  1 
art  of  the  comitry,  ! 
ipnlons,  is  a  wilder- 
re  tigers,  panthers, 
abomid. 

aE  EHONDS. 

bes  who  inhabit  this 
range    are    called 

jronds,  and  Sonrahs. 

t  of  these  have 
especial    attention, 

>revalence  of  hnman 

amon^  them.     The  I 


Khonds  bear  no  resemblance  to 
the  Hindoos  who  dwell  in  the 
plains.  They  are  mnch  dark- 
er in  complexion,  and  their 
language  is  entirely  different. 
Hence  it  has  been  inferred, 
that  they  are  the  descendants 
of  the  original  inhabitants  of 
the  comitry,  whom  later  inva- 
ders had  driven  to  the  monn- 
tain  fastnesses  of  their  laud. 

Nearly  thirty  years  a^o  the 
Indian  Government  was  com- 
pelled to  send  a  body  of  troops 
into  the  country  to  punish  a 
rebellious  chief,  and  then  it 
was  discovered,  with  surprise 
and  horror,  that  human  sac- 
rifice, aggravated  by  the  ex- 
tremely cruel  manner  in  which 
it  was  performed,  was  univer- 
sal among  the  Khonds.  This 
revolting  rite  had  been  handed 
down  through  many  genera- 
tions, and  it  was  regarded  as 
a  most  necessary  duty. 

In  the  districts  of  Goom- 
soor  and  Bead,  the  sacrifice  is 
offered  to  the  earth  goddess, 
under  the  effigy  of  a  peacock, 
to  obtain  abundant  crops,  avert 
calamity,  and  secure  general 
prosperity.  In  Chinna  Kim- 
edy,  this  deity  is  represented 
by  an  elephant,  but  the  purpose 
for  which  the  sacrifice  is  of- 
fered is  the  same.  In  Jeypore, 
"blood-red  god  of  battle, 
Manecksoroo,"  is  the  deity 
they  seek  to  propitiate.  There 
are  some  differences  both  as 
regards  the  motive  and  the 
maimer  of     Bacri&ce    «hQioi[i% 


\ 


\ 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB^I^  TRBASfTBI 


the  tribes,  but  ..the  rite  is  nni- 
yersally  performed  with  horrid 
barbarity. 

THR   MEBIAHS. 

The  yictims,  called  Meriah, 
must  be  purchased.  The 
price  yaries  from  five  to  eight 
pounds.  They  may  be  of  any 
age,  sex,  or  caste ;  but  adults 
are  most  esteemed.  They  are 
sometimes  bought  from  their 
parents  or  relatives,  when 
these  have  fallen  into  poverty, 
or  in  seasons  of  famine ;  but 
they  are  more  frequently  stolen 
from  the  plains,  by  professed 
kidnappers  of  the  Panoo  caste. 
It  is  supposed  there  were  about 
160  sacrificed  every  year. 

In  some  cases,  Meriah  wo- 
men were  allowed  to  live  until 
they  had  children  to  Ehond 
fathers.  These  children  were 
then  reared  for  sacrifice ;  they 
were  never  put  to  death  in  their 
native  village,  but  exchanged 
for  victims  from  other  parts. 

GOVERNMENT  INTERPOSES. 

As  soon  as  our  Government 
was  informed  of  the  ex- 
istence of  this  horrid  practice, 
it  resolved  to  stop  it.  There 
were  however  great  diflBculties 
to  be  overcome.  The  Khonds 
dwelt  in  fastnesses  which  it 
was  scarcely  possible  to  in- 
vade. The  climate,  during 
part  of  the  year,  is  extremely 
injurious  to  all,  except  the 
natives  of  the  region.  But 
the  work  was  immediately 
undertaken  ;  and  in  a  book 
recently  published,  **  A  Per- 
sonal Narrative  of  Thirteen 
ream*  Service  amongat  ^ihe  \ 


Wild  Tribes  of 
by.Major-Genen 
bell,  we  have  an 
progress  and  si 
this  deeply  inl 
we  make  some  < 

MODE  OF  Si 

One  of  the 

ways  of  offerin{ 

in  Chinna  Kin 

effigy  of  an  eh 

carved  in  wood 

top  of  a  stout  I 

it  is  made  to  r 

the  performanc 

al   ceremonies, 

victim  is  fasten^ 

boscis  of  the 

amidst  the  she 

of  the   excited 

Khonds,    is  ra 

round,  when,  at 

by    the    official 

priest,  the  crowc 

the  Meriah  (thi 

with    their    kn 

flesh  off  the  shi 

as  long  as  life 

is  then  cut  dowi 

burned,  and  the 

are  over.     In  se 

says  Major-Gen( 

I  counted  as  ma; 

effigies    of   elej 

had  been  used  ii 

fices.     These  I 

overthrown    by 

elephants    attac 

camp,  in  the  pr 

assembled   Kho] 

them    that    the 

objects  had  no  ; 

the    living    anii 

remove  all  vesti 


THE  SABBATH  BOHOLAR  B  TBEA8URT. 


nz  FBU8T  MADE  A  VICTIlt. 

Captain  Fire  was  informed 
one  day  of  a  sacrifice  on  the 
Terr  eve  of  consammation. 
The  Tictim  was  a  voang  and 
handsome  girl,  fifteen  or  six- 
;eeii  Tears  old.  Without  ji 
ooment's  hesitation,  lie  Las- 
ted with  a  small  bodv  of 
nned  men  to  the  spot  indi- 
>ted,and  on  arrival  found  the 
^ds  already  assenibU'd 
ith  their  sacrificinf;  priest, 
Bd  the  intended  victim  pre- 
yed for  tlie  first  act  of  the 
»gedy.  He  at  once  de- 
Mdfti  her  surrender ;  the 
hcnds,  half  mad  with  excite- 
cBt,  hesitated  a  moment,  but 
■serrinff  his  little  party  pre- 
ying for  action,  they  yielded 


the  girl.  Seeinf^  the  wild  and 
irritated  state  of  the  Khonds, 
Captain  Frye  very  prudently 
judged  that  this  wa<<  no  fitting 
occasion  to  argue  with  them  — 
so,  with  his  j)rize,  he  retrac«'d 
his  steps  to  his  old  encamp- 
ment. Scarcely,  as  he  learnt 
afterwards,  had  he  got  o!it  of 
sight  of  the  infuriated  mouii- 
taiueer.-*,  when  they  yaid  among 
themselves,  "Why  should  we 
bo  debarred  of  our  sat'rilice  ? 
— see  our  aged  priest — seventy 
summers  have  ])a9»'ed  over  his 
head — what  further  use  is  he  ? 
— let  us  Hacritice  him."  So 
this  old  man  was  barbarously 
slaughtered  to  satisfy  thuir 
superstitious  cravings." 

<7'i»  he  rontinuf'l.) 


®fef  i^to  ^it\x\: 


f^REAR,  dark,  and  cold  the  Winter  comes. 
With  storms  and  ice  an<i  tleocv  snow  ; 
We  bless  the  I.ord  for  cheerful  home*. 
While  chilling  winds  around  us  blow. 

Some  children  have  but  tattered  dothco, 

And  straw  to  lie  upon  by  night ; 
Xo  comfort  cheers  them  to  rei)ose, 

Cold,  weak,  and  shivVing  to  the  sight. 

Ttie  travellers  roaming  o'er  the  waste, 

And  sailors  on  the  mighty  deep, 
How  many  sufferings  do  they  taste, 

While  we,  secure,  in  comfort  sleej). 

May  we  be  grateful,  Lonl,  to  thee, 

'  And  thoughtful  as  each  season  roll:^. 
And  now  at  once  to  Jesus  tiee, 

For  grace  to  save  and  bless  our  souls. 

While  we  lament  the  numerous  .sins 

Which  mark  the  year  that  now  has  past ; 

lA)rd,  teach  us,  as  this  year  begins, 

'Jo  spend  it  better  'than  the  last.  Stlectid. 


a  BcinoLi.n's  tuasdiix 


tram  tire  6ast. 

{CoHlinaed/rom p.im,  FoL  V.) 
^ETHLEH£U,  oiled  '  ntlem.      Its  in< 
Ephntah   or  "  the  ;  name,  Beit  Labi 
'    '  "  '  I  of  flegh,"  U  >ln 


THX  SABBATH  8CH0IJlB*B  IBBA8UBI7. 


**  hoase  of  bread."  This  simi- 
larity of  the  ancient  and  mo- 
dem names,  is  an  instance  of 
the  remarkable  tenacity  with 
which,  in  the  East,  the  name 
of  a  place  clings  to  its  locality 
— a  peculiarity  which  has 
helped  to  identify  not  a  few 
interesting  Scripture  sites. 

As  we  approached  Bethle- 
hem from  Mar  Saba,  its  ele- 
Tated  situation,  and  the  mas- 
sive  walls  of  the  convent, 
gave  it  an  appearance  superior 
to  that  of  most  Eastern  towns. 
Around  it  are  many  olive 
trees,  also  vines  and  figs ;  and 
the  neighbourhood  shews 
signs  of  more  careful  culture 
than  is  common  in  Palestine, 
where  the  fruits  of  the  labours 
of  the  spring  may  be  swept  off 
in  a  night  by  a  party  of  mar- 
auding Arabs. 

The  Mahommedans  were 
expelled  from  Bethlehem  by 
Ibrahim  Pasha,  and  their 
houses  destroyed  after  the  in- 
surrection of  1834.  Few  of 
them  have  returned,  and  there 
are  no  Jews ;  so  that  the  popu- 
lation, amounting  probably  to 
between  2000  and  3000,  is  al- 
most entirely  composed  of 
Christians,  principally  mem- 
bers of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
Churches.  The  chief  employ- 
ment of  the  inhabitants  is  the 
carving  of  cruciUxes,  made  of 
a  pecidiar  stone  found  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  the  manu- 
fEUiture  of  rosaries  and  other 
ornaments,  made  of  olive-wood 
and  mother-of-pearl.  Many 
of  these  articles  display  con- 
siderable taste  and  skill,  and 


find  ready  purchasers  among 
the  numerous  pilgrims  wha 
visit  the  scene  of  the  Nativity. 

The  town  consists  mainly 
of  one  broad  street,  at  the 
eastern  extremity  of  which 
stands  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant building  of  the  place 
— the  convent  of  the  Nativity. 
The  exterior  more  resembles 
a  fortress  than  a  religious 
edifice,  and  the  only  access  is 
by  a  low  door,  beneath  which 
we  required  to  stoop  on  enter- 
ing. The  Basilica,  which 
was  erected  by  the  Empress 
Helena,  is  a  beautiful  struc- 
ture, adorned  with  marble 
columns,  which  some  suppose 
to  have  been  brought  from  the 
porches  of  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem.  It  is  interesting 
as  one  of  the  oldest  specimens 
of  church  architecture  in  exist- 
ence. The  nave  is  the  com- 
mon property  of  the  different 
Christian  sects,  but  the  Greeks, 
Armenians,  and  Latins,  have 
also  got  separate  chapels 
under  the  same  roof. 

The  grotto  of  the  Nativity 
is  beneath  the  Greek  chapel. 
Having  been  each  supplied 
with  a  small  lighted  taper, 
we  descended  by  a  flight  of 
marble  steps  into  the  sacred 
cave.  It  is  a  long  low 
apartment,  built  of  marble, 
which  quite  conceals  the  na- 
tural rock,  and  is  decorated 
with  silk  hangings,  and  dimly 
lighted  with  silver  lamps  sus- 
pended from  the  rool.  At 
one  end  of  the  chapel  is  a 
silver  star,  fixed  in  the  marble 
floor,  "m\ii  ^;}[i\a  'ydl^cto^^ms^.^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEABUBT; 


/ 


*-^  Hie  de  Yirgine  Maria  Jesus 
Christns  natus  est."  How 
unlike  this  gorgeous  chapel  to 
the  birthplace  of  the  lowly 
Jesus  !  But  the  eyidence  is 
stroDg  that  it  is  indeed  the 
place.  The  tradition  reaches 
back  to  the  second  century, 
thus  being  within  two  or  three 
generations  of  the  event,  and 
there  seems  no  reason,  on  ac- 
count of  its  situation  or  other 
circumstances,  to  doubt  that  it 
is  the  place  of  our  Lord's 
Nativity. 

From  the  Latin  chflpel  we 
descended  into  the  chamber 
which  bears  the  name  of  St 
Jerome,  and  which  was  the 
study  where  that  illustrious 
Father  oi  the  Church  passed 
a  great  portion  of  his  life,  and 
where  he  executed  the  transla- 
tion of  the  Holy  Scriptures 
into  Latin.  "We  were  shewn 
his  tomb,  but  his  remains 
are  not  here,  having  been  re- 
moved at  an  early  period  to 
Borne.  Near  it  are  the  tombs 
of  the  noble  Boman  lady 
Paula,  a  descendant  of  the 
Scipios,  and  her  daughter 
Eustochia,  who  came  here  to 
to  live  and  die  near  their  re- 
vered preceptor. 

Leaving  the  convent,  we  re- 
mounted our  horses  and  rode 
across  the  plain  towards  He- 
bron. In  these  fields  perhaps 
it  was  that  the  shepherds 
were  **  abiding  in  the  field, 
keeping  watch  over  their  fiock 
by  night,"  when  the  **  glory  of 
the  Lord  shone  round  about 
them,"  and  the  heavenly 
message  was  proclaiined— 
8 


which    shall  ne^ 
resound  so  long 
endures—"  Glor] 
the  highest,  on 
good-will  toward 

As  we  were  si 
mid-day  meal,  a ; 
ouins  rode  up  an 
us.  They  prove 
Sheikh  of  Hebroi 
his  tribe,  and  w 
ly  mounted.  Af 
salutation  they  p; 

The  latter  pai 
to  Hebron  lay  i 
causeway  which 
have  been  coustr 
Bomans,  those 
makers.  It  is  i 
state  of  disrepa 
is  not  surprisi 
thousand  years  i 
neglect. 

Hebron,  called 
el  Khulil,  »'  t 
doubtless  in  mem 
ham,  the  "  Men< 
one  of  the  most ; 
now  in  existence, 
record  is,  that 
*'  seven  years  be: 
Egypt."  It  was  < 
arrived.  We  en 
the  old  quarantii 
a  gently  sloping  ] 
lying  at  the  bo 
valley,  and  extei 
hill  on  the  op 
From  our  camp  ' 
the  building  whic 
cave  of  Machp 
are  interred  Abrj 
and  Jacob ;  Sari 
and  Leah.  Aero 
Joseph  and  a 
\  corn^Mi^"   oi  th 


SHE  BASBkTB  BCBOXJUB'S  TBEA6UBT. 


he  embftlmed  body 
in  oomplianee  with 

oonnmand,  **  Bury 
my  fathers,  in  the 

ia  in  the  field  of 
he  Hittite.'*  The 
whioh    coTers    the 

is  built  of  very 
lied  stones,  and  is 
of  great  antiquity. 
.  stands  before  the 
ind  no  Christian  is 
within    its    sacred 

ETen  the  Prince  of 
ho  Tiflited  Hebron 
reek  after  we  were 
B  not  allowed  to 
holy  cave,  and  only 
irines  which  repre- 
ombs  of  the  patri- 

'ebron  is  a  yery 
d  remarkable  tree, 
Abraham's  oak." 
ilone,  it  impresses 
tor  with  its  size; 
i  it  is  certainly  not 
e  time  of  Abraham, 
)  last  representative 

of  Mamre,  beneath 
>f  which  he  pitched 
nd  entertained  the 
^g,  "  Rest  your- 
ir  the  tree." 
1  from  Hebron  to 
lay  past  the  three 
reservoirs,  called 
8  pools,"  which  are 
lyated  out  of  the 
lartly  built  of  large 
Che  aqueduct,  to 
jh  these  pools  have 
racted,  terminates 
iple  area  at  Jeru- 

the  object  of  this 
leema  to  have  been 


to  a£ford  a  continuous  supply 
of  pure  water  for  the  Temple 
services. 

Shortly  after  leaving  Solo- 
mon's pools  we  passed 
Rachel's  sepulchre,  which  is 
now  covered  bv  a  small  wliite 
building,  surmounted  by  a 
dome.  Here  died  the  loved 
wife  of  Jacob,  for  whom  he 
'*  served  seven  years,  and  thev 
seemed  unto  him  but  a  few 
days  for  tlie  love  he  had  to 
her;"  and  here  slie  'Mvas 
buried  in  the  way  to  Ephratli, 
which  is  Bethlehem."  It  is 
worthy  of  remark,  how  much 
this  locality  is  associated 
with  tlie  progenitors  of  our 
Lord.  Ruth  bore  gleaned  the 
fields  of  Boaz,  and  here  David 
kept  the  sheep  of  his  father 
Jesse;  Rachel,  Naomi,  Rath, 
David,  Mary,  Jcsim ; — what  a 
cluster  of  lovely  names  to  be 
associated  with  one  spot ! 

About  two  miles  beyond  the 
grave  of  Rachel  is  the  convt'ut 
of  Mar  Elias.  From  this 
point  we  could  see  on  the  one 
side  Bethlehem,  on  the  other 
Jerusalem — the  opening  and 
the  closing  scenes  of  the  life 
of  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  which 
beginning  in  the  humble 
stable  of  a  village  inn,  ended 
on  the  Gross. 

The  darkness  of  evening 
was  rapidly  coming  on  as  we 
passed  down  the  valley  of 
Hinnom.  It  is  a  narrow 
gorge,  in  the  sides  of  which 
yawn  many  rock-hewn  sepul- 
chres. Its  gloom  harmo- 
nized with  its  association 
with    the   cmel  won^V^    cl 


TBB  BkBEkTB  BOHOLAB'S  TRSftSlTBr. 


Moloch.  Here  Ahaz,  king  of 
Jndah,  caased  his  children  "  to 
pass  through  the  fire  to  Mo- 
loch. 

We  found  our  tents  pitched 
near  the  summit  of  the 
Mount  of  Olives  beneath 
some     ancient    olive    trees. 


interspersed  hut 
with  the  almon 
earob.  From  tl 
commanded  an  es 

of  Jerusalem,  Di 
the  country  lying 
and  west  of  the  H 


^ofoitig  i\t  MtmQ  ^tth. 


iARRY  desired  to  have 
a  portion  of  the 
garden  to  cultivate 
himself,  and  this 
wish  his  father  was  very  well 
pleased  to  gratify.  In  the 
lower  comer  of  the  garden, 
quite  by  itself,  a  large  plot  of 
ground  was  measured  off,  and 
paths  were  made  all  around  it. 
This  was  Harry's  garden,  and 
he  was  to  prepare  it  himself. 
He  carefully  dug  it  up  with  his 
spade,  gathered  out  all  the 
stones,  diligently  smoothed  it 
over,  and  now  it  was  all  ready 
for  sowing. 

In  the  fall  of  the  previous 
year,  Harry  had  been  out  in 
the  field  gathering  the  seeds 
that  he  had  found  ripening 
upon  the  withered  stocks. 
Now  that  his  garden  was 
ready,  he  took  his  seeds  one 
morning  and  went  out  to  sow 
them.  His  father  had  noticed 
the  steps  he  had  taken,  but 
had  said  nothing  until  this 
morning,  wishing  to  teach  him 
a  lesson  that  would  be  of  ser- 
vice to  him  as  long  as  he  lived. 

"What  are  you  about  to 
doy  my  son  ?"  SKid  he. 
10 


**  Plant  my  g 
swered  Harry. 

"  And  what  do 
will  grow  ?" 

"  Beautiful  flow 
first  bunch  I  ga' 
give  to  mother." 

•'  Flowers,  my 
exclaims  his  fath 
are  sowing  the  se€ 
and  nothing  but 
hurtful  weeds  wi 
They  will  run  & 
garden  and  all  ov 
stroying  every  plei 

Harry  said  he 
did  not  wish  to 
grow  in  his  garde 
asked  his  father 
tell   him    what    i 
grow  into    beaut: 
and  to  give  him  si 
he  sowed  in  his  oi 

The  father  tot 
boy  to  the  place 
garden-seeds  wer> 
telling  him  about 
and  how  they 
planted,  he  sen 
again  into  his  j 
good  seed. 

As  they  sat  tog 
\  ^\A2A«k  Q^QTlookiii4 


THE  BAHBATB  WHOLAB'S  TBVABVBT. 


fter  rapper,  and  were 
;  together  aboat  the 
,  "  Harry,"  aaid  the 
"  do  yon  biow  that  yoa 
loiher  garden  to  plant  ?** 
is    itf"      asked 


•d  has  giyen  yoa  one, 
•  It  is  your  own  Izeart" 
bat  can  I  do  abont 
itherr' 

B  that  nothing  hnt  good 
planted  in  it." 
m  Bhall  I  know  what 
plant?"    ■ 

w  did  yon  leam  what 
plant  in  yonr  garden, 
OY  the  honae  ?" 
aked  yon  to  -pleaae  ^io 


>» 


i  I  am  most  happy  to 
little  son  how  to  plant 
rden  of  his  heart, 
re  many  books  written 
OS  aboat  the  flowers 
w  to  caltivate  them, 
i  has  written  a  book 
OS  how  to  coltiyate 
1  flowers  and  rich 
onr  hearts.  My  little 
WB  the  name  of  that 

I  the  Bible." 
,  it  is  the   Bible.     If 
that,  it  will  teach  yoa 
ow  the  good  seed,  and 


save  yon  from  having  year 
garden  overgrown  witli  noxi- 
008  weeds.  Recollect,  Harr}', 
that  a  bad  boy  never  makes  a 
good  man,  that  bad  habits 
never  grow  into  a  good  char- 
acter, and  that  if  we  are  care- 
less, and  indolent,  and  dis- 
obedient when  children,  when 
we  grow  np  our  lives  will  not 
be  lovely  to  others,  or  pleasant 
to  oorselveB.  The  good  seeds 
of  prayer,  obedience,  and  kind 
tempers,  with  God's  loving 
smile  upon  them,  will  take 
root,  and  grow  up  in  our  hearts 
and  live.  Onr  garden -spot 
will  then  lie  beautiful  for  others 
I  to  fiDJoy,  amd  oar  dear  Saviour, 
'  as  He  looks  down  upon  onr 
gentle  tempers  and  listens  to 
our  hnmble  prayers,  will  say, 
*  I  have  come  into  my  gar- 
den.' 

*'  If  wicked  thonghts,  and 
wishes,  and  habits  are  sewn 
in  yonr  heart,  now  that  it  is 
young  and  tender,  they  will 
certainly  grow  np  hateful  to  be 
seen,  and  these  weeds  will  run 
out  in  every  direction,  injur- 
ing and  destroying  others. 
Watch  carefully,  then,  my 
little  boy,  the  seeds  that  are 
sown  in  your  heart."— <S'.  S. 
Advocate. 


®fef   famb  fff  60 b. 


noble  animal,  but  I  love  the 
lamb  better;  and  I  will  tell 
yon  why  I  love  it  better : 
because  Jesus  Christ  is  called 
the  Lamb  of  God  NN\vic\\  Vftke\.\i 
ims,    the  lion    is   a  /  away  the  sin  of  tUe  woWQk..' 


LITTLE  boy  read- 
ing to  his  mother 
about  the  lion  in  a 
book  of  natural  his- 

d: 


»^ 


Sr»8tt  (ot  II  fittlf  dtlilli. 


L 


1^^ 

LESSED  Jas 

ns,  kind  and 

^^s> 

Stoop  to  h 

aralitllBch 

^1^ 

At  Thy  fee 

I  Gome  to  p 

Saviou 

,  c»Bt  me  not 

away. 

Takes 

vay  my  load 

fain. 

Maken 

ore  within; 

Teach 

ne  all  I  need 

Bemy 

Shepherd  her 

below. 

hildhtKNl  mai 

Ibe 

(ienlk 

re  like  Thee 

Il«lp  n 

leave, 

Uet  Thy  loving  heart  I  grieve. 

Tender  Jesus,  I'hou  didat  call 
To  Thine  Mm  tlie  children  amal 
Lo,     wme,  and  Immbli-  pray, 
Cast  ia«  not  Ciom  \b«e  BlK  tij . 


of  Uie  tyiies  of  Land,      sml      CR[>cri>Ily     cf 

le  Dible   uro  Jemgalem  ;      aud     wliut      a 

awn     from    tiia  utit   force    kai    iateievlL   &\\ 

ener}-  of  the  Uolj  tfiego  acqaito,  ^'lien,  faom  o'ttr 


XnE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEASU^. 


camp  on  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
we  daily  saw  Jerusalem  spread 
before  us !  Now  we  could 
understand  that  saying  of 
the  Psalmist,  "As  the  moun- 
tains are  round  about  Jeru- 
salem, so  the  Lord  encamp - 
eth  round  about  them  that 
fear  Him."  On  every  side 
the  hills  rise  close  around  the 
city. 

During  the  time  we  had  our 
tents  on  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
we  spent  a  day  in  visiting  the 
locasancta  of  Jerusalem;  but 
as  the  identity  of  these  is 
somewhat  more  than  doubtful, 
I  shall  not  describe  them— 
suffice  it  to  say  that  we  were 
shewn  the  pillar  on  which  the 
cock  crew  when  Peter  denied 
Christ,  the  house  of  Dives 
of  the  parable,  at  the  door  of 
which  dogs  licked  the  sores  of 
Lazarus,  and  many  other 
places  possessing  similar 
claims  on  our  interest.  We 
also  made  a  tour  through  the 
land  of  Benjamin,  which 
occupied  two  days,  and  which 
was  deeply  interesting  on 
account  of  the  associations 
of  the  localities  visited 
with  many  of  the  striking 
events  of  Old  Testament 
history.  We  climbed  the 
rocks  of  Michmash,  up  which 
Jonathan  and  his  armour- 
beanr  went  on  their  hands 
and  feet  to  the  assault  of  the 
Philistines ;  and  from  the 
heights  of  Beth-horon  we 
saw  stretched  before  us  the 
valley  of  Ajalon,  down  which 
the  Israelites,  under  Joshua, 
pursued  the  flying  Amotites 
14 


of  Gibeon  ;  when  ; 
lous  suspension  of 
of  the  imiverse  o< 
prevent  their  esc 
Joshua  spake  to  ' 
"  and  said  in  the  sij 
Israel,  *  Sun,  stand 
upon  Gibeon ;  and  tl: 
in  the  valley  of  Ajal 
the  sun  stood  stil] 
moon  stayed,  until  \ 
had  avenged  themse 
their  enemies." 
visited  Gibeon,  now  i 
hamlet,  but  ancien 
as  "  a  great  city,  as 
royal  cities."  Hew 
offered  his  thousa 
offerings,  and  here 
appeared  unto  him  i 
by  night,  and  gave 
desire, —  an  "  undi 
heart." 

We  finally  left 
on  the  28th  of  Mara 
our  last  lingering 
from  the  summit  c 
which  lies  to  the  no] 
city.  Here  the  Is 
the  northern  tribes, 
to  Jerusalem  to  th 
feasts,  would  first 
sight  of  the  Holy  Ci 
perhaps,  from  this  s 
appears  most  beau 
we  cnn  fancy  them  j 
to  their  patriotism  i 
lime  words  of  the  P; 
'*  Beautiful  for  situ 
joy  of  the  whole 
Mount  Zion,  ou  th 
the  north,  the  citvol 
King." 

We  soon  passed  t 
what  must  have  been 
of  Saul,"  the  city  "^ 


THE  flABDATn  BCH0LAB*8  TREASURY. 


rernment  dnriDg 
he  first  Hebrew 
pre  the  Aiuorites 

reYCDge  for  the 
leir  brethren  by 

death  BOTen  of 
ta,  **  in  the  dars 
.  the  first  dnvH, 
ining  of  barlev 
nd  on  this  bare 
lah.  the  motlicr 
rictims,  watched 
ir  corpses  •'  from 
;  of  harvest  till 

on  thf'm  ont  of 
mffcred  neither 
te  air  to  rest  on 
nor  tlie  bcaftts  of 
lifilit/*  Melan- 
lasting  from  the 
b  of  the  spring 
lencement  of  the 

• 

H  for  lunch  at 
is  is  ihi".  tradi- 
obably  the  trne 

returning  from 
Lhe  pnssoTer   to 

Galilee,  Josrph 
;ed  for  the  night, 
:hat  Jesns  was 
beir  kinsfolk  and 

in  the  caravan, 
donbt  thcT  tra- 
I  back  antdii  to 
nd  fonnd  Him 
e  Temple, 
'ening  we  passed 
the  house  of 
;ene  of  Jacob's 
e  are  here  heaps 

remains  of  the 

f  buildingH,  and 

several    rock- 

»y  the  road-side ; 

se   from    which 


Joshna.  in  his  holy  zeal,  took 
the  bones  and  burned  tlicni  on 
the  altar  of  the  lii;{h  place  of 
Jeroboam,  to  pollntc  it. 

Ou  the  nfternonu  of  the 
second  day's  jnunifV  fruiu 
Jerusalem  wc  reached  '*  Jacob's 
well.'*  It  lies  at  the  eutninci* 
of  the  valh'V  between  Geri- 
zim  and  Ebal.  the  niounttiiiiH 
I  if  blessing  and  curMng.  nnd  is 
now    surrounded    bv  ruinous 

m 

walls.  The  well  itHclf  is 
choked  up  with  stones.  Dfep 
is  the  interest  of  this  Rpnt,  for 
there  can  be  no  doubt  tliat 
it  was  hero  that  JesuH,  *^  wear- 
ied with  His  jouiTiey,  sat  on 
the  well,"  and  held  that  me- 
morable conversation  witli  the 
woman  of  Samaria  who  came 
hither  to  (h*aw  water,  in  wliicb 
He  announci'd  hiuiHelf  as  the 
living  water,  of  which  if  any 
msn  drink  he  shall  never 
thirst.  The  well  is  distant 
about  a  mile  from  Sychar,  now 
called  NablouH.  1)ut  it  need  not 
surprise  us,  though  there  is 
good  water  close  to  the  iovm, 
that  the  woman  came  so  far 
for  it,  for  was  it  not  tlie  well 
of  her  "father  Jacob,"  who 
**  drank  thereof  liimself,  and 
liis  children,  and  his  cattle  ?  " 
Near  this  mu^t  be  the  tomb 
of  Joseph.  There  was  a  small 
enclosure  pointed  out  to  uh  as 
the  spot. 

The  inhabitants  of  thia  dia- 
triet  are  among  the  moHt 
turbulent  and  fanatical  of  tlie 
natives  of  Palestine,  and 
evinced  some  disposition  to 
molest  us,  but  did.  noV.  Nfeiv\,Ta;fc 
to  do  BO  to  any  eenowf^  eT\.<£\i\>. 

IS 


THE  SABBATR  SCHOLAR'S  TREASURY. 


The  situation  of  the  to\7ii  is 
fine,  lying  at  the  northern 
end  of  the  narrow  but  fertile 
valley  betwein  Ebal  and 
Gerizim.  It  is  now  the 
only  plaoe  where  any  remnant 
of  the  Samaritans  is  to  be 
found.  They  are  very  few, 
only  numbering  about  150, 
and  it  is  a  remarkable  fsMt, 
that  this  has  been  their  num- 
ber for  some  centuries,  neither 
increased  nor  diminished.  It 
was  a  feast  dav  of  the  Samari- 
tans  when  we  were  at  Nablons, 
and  we  went  to  their  syna- 
gogue to  prayers.  It  was  a 
noisy  scene,  the  worshippers 
ail  reading  or  reciting  in  a 
loud  \x)ice,  oecasionallv  inter- 
mpted  by  prostrations. 

We  spent  the  Sabbath  here, 
and  on  Monday  visited  the 
ruins  of  Samaria.  The  situa- 
tion is  commanding,  the  city 
being  built  on  the  level  sum- 
mit of  a  hill  about  tliree  hun- 
dred feet  in  height.  The 
ruins  of  this  once  princely  city 
consist  principally  of  the 
remains  of  a  colonnade,  of 
which  many  of  the  columns 
are  still  standing.  The  neigh- 
1>ourhood  is  planted  with 
vineyards,  in  constructing  the 
tt^rraces  of  which,  are  probably 
employed  many  of  the  ruins  of 
the  ancient  city.  The  pro- 
phecy of  Micah  is  strikingly 
fnllilletl.  **  I  will  make 
Samaria  as  a  heap  of  the  field, 


and   aa   the    plantings  of  a 
vineyards" 

On   the  following  day  w 
again    entered    the  beantifal 
plain  of  Sharon,  carpeted  with 
anemones,  orchis,  and  fl^ 
lovely      liowers,      and-  >w|b 
through  its  woodland  BMltt^ 
to  the  ruins  of  Csesareit,  tl^ 
scene  of  the  trial  of  St  Fnl 
before  Festus,  and  the  resid- 
ence of  Cornelius  the  eento- 
rion.     In  approaching  iii  ^ 
noticed,  scattered  aboui,iaiDr 
relics  of  its  former  grandeui. 
Fragments    of   columns  a»J 
sarcophagi  lay  half  concealw 
by  the  raik  luxuriance  of  the 
long  grass.    It  is  now  desola^i 
there  seeming    to  be   no*  »    i 
single  habitation  in  the  na^'   \ 
bourhood.    Numben  of  fi*8" 
ments  of  columns  are  scatttf* 
along  the  beach  and  in  ^* 
water.  ^    ^. 

In  the  afternoon  we  Tiait*** 
the  convent  of  Carmel,  wh^* 
we  were  courteously  J^^^^Tj 
ed  by  the  monks.  One  ^ 
them*  took  us  to  the  roof  ^ 
the  convent,  whence  we  h^ 
a  splendid  view  of  the  ^>^J 
of  Acre,  with  its  tmo^^ 
city,  which  has  sustained  •* 
many  sieges.  Before  ^^ 
lay  the  blue  expanse  5V 
the  Mediterranean,  brillitn*^* 
lighted  by  the  rays  of  *" 
Eastern  sun,  and  bounded  on *- 
bv  the  horizon. 

E.  E.  S. 


f 

/ 


IME  that  18  past  thou  canst  not  now  recall, 
Of  time  to  come  thou  art  not  sure  at  all ; 
Time  preient  ou\y  \a  vitUiii  thy  power, 
And  therefore  novo  \u\vton^  \.\v^'^\%.^^vVssi«* 


TBB  6ABJUkTH  SCHOL^b'S  TREASURY. 


^e  fission  /icib. 

(Conffnued  from  Pnffe  S). 

KB.  MOTHHii.  seized  and  eent.  bnck  to  camp 

IE  PLY    interest-    as  a  muawav  Meriali ;  and  if 

incident  is  rela-  the  wilder  or  unpledged  trilies 
by  Major  General  had  caught  eight  of  Iier  she 
npbell,  concern-  vonld  at  once  hate  been 
lelnded  woman,  a  delivered  over  to  her  former 
iah,  who  had  sold  owners ;  so  Uie  danger  waH 
I  Tictim,  and  re-  ■  equally  groat  from  friend  and 
pride  and  insane  .  foe.  The  poor  cruatiirc, 
the  fiate  to  which  therefore,  travelletl  only  under 
tined.  He  was  !  coTer  of  the  night ;  and  what 
age ;  bnt  she  had  ,  nichta  they  were  at  snch  a 

bclieye  that  he  ■  season !  A  perfect  deluge  of 
resented  to  tlieir  water  was  pouring  from  the 
rth  goddess,  and  '  heavens ;  the  mountain  tor- 
een  approved  and  j  rents  were  roaring,  and  burst- 

a  fit  olfering.  ;  ing  from  their  banks;  and 
d  mother  having  i  the  wild    beaste    howling  in 


within  the  sphere 

.    influenco    was 

perceive  the  hor- 

condition,    and 


concert  with  the  elements. 
But  this  brave  woman,  the 
instinctH  of  whose  better  nature 
had  now  for  the  first  time 
9lored  the  British  |  been  a^^-akened,  was  not  dis- 
i  a  party  to  rescue  i  heartened.  She  cronchod  in 
The  season  was  '  the  forest  by  day,  lent  she 
;ed;  and  the  should  be  seen,  and  pursuetl 
te  would  probably  -  her  journey  only  when  the 
aatsl  to  the  troops,  i  people  of  the  villages  wurc 
ander  was  '*  most  i  asleep, — subsisting  on  what 
ximpelled  to  re-  wild  roots  slio  could  find,  when 
promised,  how-    the   small  stock  of   juirchcd 

rice  wliich   she   had    carried 

away  was  exhausted.     At  last 

she  reached  her  village,  and 

hovered    about    it    for    three 

days,  not  daring  to  enter  when 

the  inhabitants  were  there,  but 

waiting  her  opportunity  when 

abounding  in  the  '  all  the  villagers  should  be  ab- 

e   dared  not    lot  I  sent  in  the  fields.     The  fortu- 

seen    by  friendly  '  nate     moment    «Tn<(Q&\  *\^^ 

Bhe   should    he  '  saw  her  eon,  and.  no  (meX^^vci^ 


early  cxi)e(lition 
This  promise 
sfy  the  mother. 

from  Sooradah, 
time  reached  the 
;h  not  without 
id   danger,  tigers 


IHB  UBBITS  fiCHOI.Ut  a  lUA^imr 


preBeDtiBbe  seized  biiii,canied 
him  off,  ftDil  fled  Tith  all  tliti 
Btrenglh  which  desperate  reeo- 
Intion  lends  to  conrngo.  In  a 
few  nigLts  ehe  leachedtheter- 
litorj  of  the  fritudlj  tribes  and 
had  nothing  more  to  feu." 


"  The  time  had  now  come 
(1S60)  when  we  might  fairlj 
attempt  to  eetablish  some 
Tillage  school  B.  Through 
the  unwearied  aseiduitj  of 
Captain  Frje,  a  snificient 
nnmber  of  bi^ooI  books  iu  (he 
Ehoud  language  bad  been  pte- 
pared,  and  aeraal  of  our 
reseoed  Meriah  viotims  had 
been  trained  to  officiate 
as  BcboolmaslerB  and  teacbete . 
So  the  opinioD  of  the  cbiofs.  in 
coonoil  asaeiabled  on  the  im-  I 
portant  question  of  edncatin); 
their  children,  was  asked.  The  I 


"  I  was  fortuna 
renting  a  eacriflce 
lage  of  Bondigam, 
a  victim  and  all 
accessaries  had  bi 
provided.  This  ha 
premeditated,  bnt  . 
a  sudden  temptal 
these  wild  people  ei 
Fist.  They  had,  i 
before,  pnid  a  sntii 


a  Panoo 


0  pr. 


Words  can  scarcely  convey  an 
adequate  idea  of  the  aconi 
and  contempt  muiifested, 
especioll;  b;  the  eldera  of  the 
tribes.  This  was  to  be  ex- 
pected :  Iheii  eyea  had  grown 
dim  in  their  old  delusions, 
and  Ihej  recounted  andent 
tradltjons,  foreboding  direfol 
calamines  if  once  schools  were 
penuitled  amongst  them. 

"  Time  wore  on,  yet  but  little 
progress  naa  made  against 
this  feeling.  At  last  one  or 
two  fiunilies  actnall;  promised 
to  allow  their  children  to  at- 
tend. A  school  accordingly 
was  commeuced ;  shortly  after, 
a  Kecond  was  permitted,  and 
soon  we  had  four  at  work,  at- 
tended  bj  fiftj.nine  si^^ua." 


Tith  a  Meriah.     In 


the  Panoo  evaded 
mcKt  of  his  sgreeiD 
year  the  Khondswe: 
and  insisted  on  tt 
being  retnmed.  1 
eitlier  not  having  i 
or  cstcntating  thai 
tors  would  not  dai 
fice  her,  gave  the 
daughter  Ootoma. 
mistaken,  the  temj 
too  great ;  the  eai 
seemed  lo  have  p 
blood  which  had  1 
dieted  her,  and  tt 
was  at  once  dete 
InformatioDi  howB< 
me,  enabling  me  t< 

years  of  age,  two 
before  the  time  a{ 


"The  total  i 
Meriah  B  rescued 
<i^«iU.\aaa ,  toiDL  It 


THB  SABBATH  BOBOLAR  S  TB£ABUBT. 


onsand  five  han- 
x.  The  OoTern- 
lia,  on  my  recom- 

made  a  yery 
•yidon  for  all, 
1  or  yoong.  I 
.t  two  hundred  of 
in  mission  schools 
'  conntry.  The 
;  I  had  in  yiew, 
e  must  intelligent 
»nght  up  as  teach- 
entually  settle  in 

hills,  where,  by 

example,  under 
3g,  tliey  might  be 
.  in  winning  some 
u  wild  people  to 
irinciples  of  our 
D.  I  had  eycry 
well  satisfied  with  ; 

bestowed  by  the 
lonaries  upon  the 
Idren ;  and  the 
that  sprang  up 
e  teachers  and 
sincere  and  last- 
en  visited  them, 
d,  with  heartfelt 
ir  neat  and  clean 


appearance,  orderly  behavioor, 
and  progress  in  learning." 

CONTLUSION. 

**  "We  can  now,  I  thank  God, 
look  back  upon  such  atrocities 
as  a  thing  of  the  past.  It 
affords  me  intense  gratification 
to  be  able  to  give  so  satisfac- 
tor)'  a  statement  of  the  success 
of  mv  meoHiures  for  the  entire 
and  complete  abandunmuat  of 
this  cruel  custom. 

'*  I  should  be  committing  an 
act  of  great  injustice  towards 
the  Govenunent  of  India, 
whose  support  I  uniformly 
eojoyed,  were  I  to  conclude 
this  work  witliout  acknowledg- 
ing the  liberal  spirit  in  which 
they  received  every  proposition 
I  made  in  behalf  of  my  mis- 
sion. Any  amount  of  money 
I  asked  for  was  ungrudgingly 
sanctioned ;  and  the  warmest 
marks  of  approval  were  be- 
stowed upon  my  himible  but 
earnest  endeavours  to  carry 
into  effect  their  benevolent  in- 
tentions." 


'  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?"— Matt  xxii.  42. 

^-HAT  think  vou  of  Cbrist  ?**— is  the  test 

To  tr>'  both  your  state  and  your  ^chemo ; 
You  caimot  be  right  in  tbe  rest, 
Unless  you  think  rightly  of  Him; 
j»  appears  in  your  view — 
ks  He  is  beloved,  or  not, 
is  disposed  to  you, 
Lnd  mercy  or  wrath  is  your  lot. 


Tss  ^MBAHTR  ioamikii^^^aMUrfim: 


Some  call  Him  a 'Saviour,  in  wofd,  *    !)  ''''•-'  i'.-v 

But  ihix-thelr  own  works  with  iHis^pIkii^'i 
And  bop«  HeUfa  help  will  afford,  ^  -   -:   •  ? 

When  thej-  have  done  all  that  tttej^  can  J'  ^ ' 
I^  doings  prove  rather  too  light 

(A  little  they  own  they  may  fail), 
They  purpose  to  noake  up  full  weight* 

By  casting  Ills  name  in  the  scale. .^ 

If  asked  what  of  Jesus  /  think. 

Though  still  my  best  thoughts  are  hut  poo' 
I  say,  He'i»  013'  meat  and  my  drink. 

My  life,  and  my  strength,  and  my  storey  ' 
My  Shepherd,  my  trust,  and  ray  friend,  «   ' 

My  Saviour  from  sin  and  from  thrall ;    "• 
My  hope  fh>m  beginning  to  end^  •  • .  '  ■ 

My  portion,  iny  Lord,  and  my  All. 


§0  sfftt  t^tx  i^rei&e? 


\0M£  children  are  full 
of  deceit.  They  seem 
to  delight  in  making 
their  playmates  ana 
friends  believe  what  is. false, 
or  doubt  what  is  true .  They 
are  false,  and  therefore  wicked 
children. 

Have  I  a  deceitful  child 
among  my  readers  ?  If  so,  I 
wish  to  tell  him  or  her  a  story 
about  a  bird. 

A  thiiish  had  bnUt  her  nest 
in  a  quarry.  The  miners  soon 
after  began  to  blast  the  rock, 
and  the  pieces  fell  very  near 
the  little  bird's  nest,  .  very 
much  to  her  annoy^ce.  After 
shrinking  from  tiie  pieces  a 
few  times,  the  bird  noticed 
that  the  miners  rang  a  bell, 
and  left  the  quaifry  Jasi  before 
every  explosion.  TYie  AilWe 
20 


creatctre  followed  t 
ample,  and  every  tim 
rung,  left  her  nest,  a 
to  the  spot  which  ^e 
workmen,  lifted  at 
until  the  exp^o^B  t 
when  she  rettinM  to 
This  curioos  &ct 
ticed  by  the  men,  a 
persons  hearing  ot 
out  to  witness  her  in( 
The  men  could  not, 
explode  a  blast  as  ofl 
visitors  came ,  so  they 
the  bell.  Thisde<^it 
purpose  a  few  tipses 
thrush  soon  discover 
afterwards  on  heaHii( 
peeped  from  her  ^est 
the  nien  left  the  qn 
they  did  she  follbwi 
X  ft  they  did  not  Ae 


TS1B  lABBATtf  BCHOLAB'b  TBSASUBY. 


yon  see  that  even  a 
uld.  not  bo :  deceived 
She  Boon  saw  tbat  tbe 
slied  to  make  lier  be- 
lat  was  not  trne.  I 
m  to  make,  a  note  of 
tie  Double-face.    Ask 

this  question :  **  If  a 


that  jou  are  a   falfie   cliild. 

Thev  all  see  Uiron^Ii  tbe  tbin 

mask  with  which  you  seek  to 

cover  jour  ialae  heiirt.     ^Vbat 

is   a  still   more   serious   fiict 

for  jou,  God  knows  what  you 

are.      He   sees  tbrongh  yon, 

and  knows  that  yon  are    full 

Id  soon  see  through  a  I  of  decdt  and  falsehood.   Make 

I     act,    will    not    my  >  haste,  therefore,  oh,  my  child, 

toon  see  through  me,  '  to  put  away  your  deceit.     Ask 

a  thai  I  am  a  cheat?'*  |  Jesus  to  give  you  a  true  and 

-will    find    yon    out,  |  honest    nature.       Beg    your 

Eky     depend    upon    it.    heareuly  Father  to  help  you 


they  have  found  you 
3ady.  Evesry  boy  and 
.    know,  your  parents. 


to  say  in  good  earnest,  '*  My 
lips  shall  not  speak  wicked- 
ness,   nor   my  tongue    utter 


and  friends,  all  know  ,  deceit.'" — S,  t>.  Ailvocatc. 


®6*    fifi§t|j0«8f, 

a  Lig^hthoujte  off  the  coast  of  Cornwall  is  engraved  this 
ive  Motto : — 

"TO  GIVE  LIQBT,  AND  TO  SAVE  LIFE." 

^EE  TLING  above  the  rocky  shore, 
Where  loud  the  eddying  surges  roar, 
Beliold  the  Lighthouse  raises  high 

Its  glowing  beacon  to  the  sky. 

Imbedded  deep  within  the  rocks. 

The  tempest's  rage  it  ever  mocks; 

And  speaks  to  all  npon  the  wave, 

"  Lu/ht  J  impaii^  and  life  1  save." 

'Hail,  friendly  Lighthouse !  many  a  bark, 
Drifting  upon  the  ocean  dark, 
Has  seen  with  joy  thy  gleams  of  light 
Break  forth  upon  the  starless  night ; 
And  many  a  sailor  on  ttie  wave. 
When  yawned  beneath  a  watery  grave, 
With  hope  revived  has  seen  thy  rays, 
And,  rescued.  Uvea  to  speak  thy  praise 


TitE  S4BEAI 


Here,  Ctriatmii,  aUy  liwhile  tu  Tiew       " 
The'Jcwiiel'iifmbliiin  bright  aud  true: 
Built  AH  tlie  everlnslinB  Ituck. 
It^taadB unmoved  b;«v«ry  shock; 
1  he  ra^^Dg  teniiieat  onlj  provea 
That  (Tal/r!jl>-vtpUla>-nevet  jDovesi 
Frnm  a^toagBita  bEavenly  light 
Di^pflla  the  gloom  of  hopeleaB  nigbt. 

Ob!  yon  who  know  tho  glorioua  Bisht 
Tbnt  chaogedjOurdarkuess  Into  light. 
That  brought  immonal  lifp,  and  gave 
TrlmiipboDt  hope  bevond  the  grave  j 
Think  of  the  millions  evtrvwhere 
Plunged  in  the  gull -of  dark  despair! 
\Vitb  none  lo  lielti  them,  none  to  alive  ; 
Thay  sink,  unpitied,  to  ihe  grave. 

Children  Dflightl  awake!  awake! 
Arisel  and -vigoroua  elfurls  make! 
The  precious  W<yrd  d/^./b  hold  forth 
To  east  and  west,  to  aoutll  and  norlb  ; 
Till  throHgh  Che  world  the  light  divine 
bright  ABA  burning  lamp  staall  ehine. 
And  every  dark  beuighled  place, 
Sealben  of  every  clime  and  race, 
!Have  Uarnt  THIS  LioHiiiousE  is  desigoc 
To  eniishtm  awl  to  laiw  maalund  I 


itlo  Smma  gose  minbeii  \a  Em 

"  Ssf^^^'^^'   ^^^^'   isp^^^    tlie  little  girl  bonnded 

^■^^    yotir  veiae,"  a&id    garden  to  look  at  hef 

^^g|?    Mra  Rose  to  ber    Emma  vaa  very  fond 

danghter   one    era.   and    fbia    mom 

moming  nt  family  prajer. 

^e  thut  U  alow  to  anger 
is  better  tbaji  the  miKlity,  and 
hothatmletb  liie  spirit  than  ho 
thatt«kethatity,"so.idKmras. 


XBJt.  BA99f™  BCHOIAB'B  TBEAEUBT. 


int  had  sent  her  a 
fore.  Bnt,  to  her 
,he  fioflrer-pot  was 
and    the    fiiBchia 

)  of  this  disaster 
t  hand.  It  was 
;  which  had  cap- 
jcer-pot.  Emma*8 
within  her  breast 
len  storm.  Her 
She  ran  with 
L  toward  puss,  and 

to  strike  Ler  a 
when  her  morning 
to  her  mind.     She 

arm  in  a  moment, 
of  striking,  stroked 
7,  saying, 
.ave     broken    my 


flower,  pnsB,  but  I  mnstn't  pfet 
aogrv.  I  ronst  mle  my  spirit. 
I  mnst  be  slow  to  aiiger.  Yon 
are  a  thoughtless  puss,  but  I 
suppose  you  didn't  know  any 
better.  If  you  had,  you 
wouldn't  have  spoiled  my 
lovely  plant. 

Thus,  you  see,  Emma's 
text  did  her  good.  Why? 
Because  she  minded  it. 
Exactly  so.  If  she  had  not 
given  heed  to  it,  learning  it 
would  have  done  her  no  good. 
Mark,  then,  my  children,  this 
truth.  It  is  not  bv  merely 
learning  texts  of  Scripture 
that  you  are  made  better,  but 
hy  minding  them  after  tliey  are 
learned. —  S.  S.  Advocate. 


r.ry  /•,/>.■' 


€  a  s  1 1. 


have  often  heard 
ndreadof  "  caste." 
ou  know  how  in 
ndia  it  much  with- 
lospel,  and  troubles 
;burches. 

school  there  are 
es.  The  scholar, 
ktering  the  school, 
.  the  lowest,  if  dili- 
ittentive,  may  rise 
to  the  highest.  It 
.h  caste.     If  a  man 

the  lowest  caste, 
children  after  him, 
lin  of  that  caste. 
•t  of  the  religicm  of 
and  sadly  opposes 
3  the  irxie  religion. 

how  a  man  of  a 
e  despises  him  who 


belongs  to  a  lower.  He  thinks 
himself  his  superior,  and  will 
not  come  near  him  if  he  can 
avoid  it.  All  these  "  high 
thoughts  and  imaginations " 
the  Gospel  casts  down.  It 
teaches  that  all,  iu  the  sight 
of  God,  are  equal ;  that  a  man 
should  honour  his  neighbour  ; 
yea,  more,  should  love  him  as 
himself. 

How  far  the  poor  people  of 
India  are  from  the  spirit  of 
the  Gospel,  the  following  inci- 
dent will  show  : — "  An  Indian 
Sepoy,  after  a  battle,  lay  on 
the  field  dying  of  thirst.  A 
cup  of  water  would  have  saved 
him,  but  there  was  no  one  to 
give  it.  At  last  his  cries  for 
water  attracted  the  noVite  ol 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB  8  TBEASTJBT. 


one  of  those  wretches  who 
plonder  the  dead  and  woond- 
ed,  and,  being  moved  by  un- 
wonted pity,  he  filled  a  cup 
from  a  stream  hard  by,  and 
gave  it  to  the  unhappy  man. 
He  raised  it  to  his  parched 
lips,  and  was  just  on  the  point 
of  drinking  what  would  have 
been  a  water  of  life  to  him, 
when  suddenly  he  dashed  it 
to  the  earth.  The  man  who 
had  brought  him  the  cup,  was 
of  a  lower  caste  than  he,  and 
so  he  died." 

Caste  slays  its  thousands. 
God  grant  it  may  soon  be  de- 
stroyed.   Will  you  help  in  its 


destruction?  Then  pm; 
labour  abundantly  thai 
Gospel  may  be  prei 
wherever  caste  noir  n 
Be  encouraged^  by  what 
has  already  done  to  releai 
poor  Hindu,  and  to  let  hi 
free,  and  '*give  Him  nc 
until  He  makes  His  na: 
praise  in  the  whole  earth 

Bise,  San  of  Glory,  rise  I 

And   chase  those   shad 
night 
Which  now  ohscore  the  dt 

And  hide  thy  sacred  Hffii 
Oh,  send  thy  Spirit  do«m 

On  all  the  nations,  Lord, 
With  great  snccess  to  enm 

The  preaching  of  thj  1^ 


J  ARK  !  I  hear  the  sweet  church- bells — 
As  their  quiet  music  tells 
How  to  keep  Christ's  holiday 

In  the  happiest,  fittest  way ; 

How  His  children  here  may  meet, 

Joining  in  His  service  sweet, 

And  in  the  presence  of  their  Lord, 

Sing  His  praise  and  hear  His  word; 

With  our  fathers  and  our  mothers, 

With  our  sisters  and  our  brothers. 

To  our  much  loved  church  we  go, 

The  dear  church  of  high  and  low, 

Where  the  poor  man,  meanly  dressed, 

Is  as  welcome  as  the  best ; 

And  the  rich  and  poor  may  gather, 

Kneeling  to  their  common  Father ; 

Yea,  our  risen  Lord  is  there. 

Listening  to  our  praise  and  prayer. 

Thus  should  Christian  people  all 

Hold  their  Master's  festival, 

Thus  with  joyous  rest  and  praise 

His  own  chMTeTi'VLee;^  ^^^  ^^7%«  SdM 


(Con(lnk(J^olipi7(.10.) 

tHEL,  "  the  garden  <  in  Uie  Cuiticlea,  it  is  raid,  in 
al  Ood,"  is  Ire-  I  the  glorioaH  degcription  of  ths 
{ncDtl;  mentioned  I  "  prince'ii  daoghter." — "Thy 
in  the  Bible,  and  I  hekd  upon  thee  ia  lilie  CtumxeL, 
nged  as  a  tjpe  of  ■  and  tha  hur  at  ttnne  ^b&Bl 
rw  tem^.  Tbra,  /  like  porple ;"  a&&  la  wmo  (A 
1& 


T^.S^BATH  B/CmqfMAJBLS  TB|UBURT^ 


the  pasBages  of  the  prophets, 
where  a  **  fruitful  place  "  is 
spoken  of,  according  to  onr 
version  these  words  might  pro- 
perly be  rendered,  **  Garmel." 

It  was  on  Mount  Garmel 
that  Elijah  had  his  memorable 
controversy  with  the  priests  of 
Baal,  and  it  was  up  Garmel 
that,  after  their  destruction, 
he  sent  his  servant  to  watoh 
for  the  first  signs  of  that  rain 
which  was  so  earnestly  desired 
by  the  inhabitants  of  the 
fEonine  stricken  land.  The 
name  is  generally  associated 
only  with  the  bold  promontory, 
so  eonspiouous  from  the  coast, 
which  seems  to  oaabraoe  the 
southern  side  of  the  bay  of 
Acre,  and  whioh  is  weU  known 
firom  pictures ;  but  it  properly 
applies  to  a  mountidn  ridg« 
several  miles  in  extent,  which 
lies  between  the  plain  of 
Esdraelon  and  the  Mediter- 
ranean. 

Our  ride  from  the  sea  coast 
to  Nazareth  was  for  some  dis- 
tance through  the  "  forest  of 
Garmel,"  which  aboimds  in 
fine  trees,  especially  oaks. 
Soon  after  leaving  Hai&,  which 
is  the  only  natural  harbour  on 
the  coast  of  Palestine,  we 
forded  the  Kishon.  At  this 
season  it  is  onlv  what  we  I 
would,  in  Scotland,  call  "  a  , 
bum,"  and  as  we  stood  beside 
its  placid  and  somewhat 
sluggish  stream,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  realize  that  this  was 
indeed  "  that  ancient  river^ 
the  river  Kishon,"  which 
swept  away  the  host  of  Sisera. 

\ye  passed  through  a\)eau\i- 
26 


fiilly  wooded  glan 
plain  of  Esdraelon,  a 
whioh  we  crossed,  am 
evening  entered  1 
country  which  surronj 
reth.  Before  desoe 
the  town,  we  climbi 
which  rises  above  it, 
summit  of  whioh  wi 
extensive  and  inter 
teresting  view.  Az 
lay  the  hills  and  vb11> 
trod  by  the  feet  of  1 
Jesus,  and  at  our 
Nazareth,  the  Savion 
for  the  greater  part  ol 
on  earth,  and  from  n 
derived  tiie  opprobri 
of  **  the  Nazarene." 
west  lay  the  wooded 
Garmel,  glowing  in  tb 
the  setting  son,  witi 
them  a  peep  of  the 
ranean ;  while  aws] 
east  rose  the  rounded 
Tabor.  Further  still 
see  where  the  sea  o 
lay  low  beneath  the 
the  surrounding  plaii 
deep  is  the  chasm  in 
lies,  that  we  coold 
get  a  glimpse  of  iti 
waters.  We  knew, 
that  it  must  lie  bel 
and  Hermon,  whoE 
summit,  white  with  si 
grandly  in  the  distanc 
In  Nazareth  the  C 
form  by  far  the  larges 
of  the  population, 
principal  building  is  t 
convent  of  the  Annu 
This  we  visited,  but  : 
more  interesting  to  i 
fountain,  which    bub 


TBS  B&A^TB'^M!^nMdLB*ft  TSBASUB^. 


Slight    ham    been 
it  Muy  oune,  ao* 

bj  the  infcmt 
draw  water,  Jiut  as 
the  women  of  Naza- 
iday. 

nation  of  Nazareth 
eaHed  either  strlk- 
dfhl  or  picturesque, 
oeomed  in  a  olnster 
1b,  which  flhnt  otit 
ifioent  TiewB  which 
ijoyed  by  climbing 
BehUl  tops;  bnt  it 
in  undying  intereet, 
its  fame,  perhaps 
dstenee,  to  baring 
ig  the  home  of  Him 
rejected  and  thrust 
synagogue, 
i  Nazareth  on  thjB 
il,  and  soon  emerg- 

the  hills,  agiain 
le  plain  of  Es- 
This  plain,  so  cde- 
Tewish  history  as  a 
,  was  the  portion  of 

It  extends  many 
1  sends  out  three 
rds  the  Jordan.    In 

is  coyered  with 
nd  is  then  the  re- 
wandering  Bedouin, 
inds  abundant  pas- 
lis  flocks.  Its  de- 
I  as  striking  as  its 
}r  there  is  not  a 
abited  Tillage,  ex- 
)  slopes  of  l£e  hills 
lerit  on  the  east; 

small  portion  of  its 
is  under  any  sort 
.tion.  We  crossed 
o  Jezreel,  probably 
le  line  that  Elijah , 
ignal  triumph  over 


i3ie  priests  of  Baal,  ran  before 
the  chariot  of  king  Ahab, 
from  Carmel  *'  to  the  entrance 
of  Jesreel." 

The  ourse  of  Ahab  seems 
to  rest  upon  Jezreel.  It  is 
now  a  cluster  of  mean  hovels 
and  the  bare  and  scanty  Tegeta< 
tion  of  its  Tieinity  contrasts 
strangely  with  the  richness  of 
the  surrounding  plain.  I 
eould  eearoely  find  a  single 
flower  to  ioarry  away  as  a  me- 
mento of  this  celebrated  spot. 

From  Jezreel,  we  descend- 
ed' to  the  large  fountain 
'Ain  Jalfid,  which  is  about  a 
mile  distant,  and  which 
springs  out  of  a  cave  at  the 
base  of  Mount  Gilboa.  In 
this  neighbourhood  occurred 
one  of  .the  most  memorable 
delireranoes  and  one  of  the 
most  disastrous  defeats  of  the 
Jews.  'Ain  JalAd  is  pro- 
bably the  very  * '  well  of  Harod , '  * 
at  which  the  tliree  hundred 
chosen  warriors  of  Gideon 
"lapped"  before  they  went 
to  tne  assault  of  the  Midian- 
ites,  who  "  lay  along  in  the 
yalley  like  grasRhoppers  for 
multitude ;  *'  and  it  was  here 
that  the  life  blood  of  the 
royal  Saul  and  Jonathan  dyed 
the  green  hillside,  drawing 
forth  i^om  David  the  touching 
lament : — "  The  beauty  of 
Israel  is  slain  upon  thy  hirfh 
places y  and  Jonathan ,  thou  wast 
slain  upon  thine  high  places." 

Standing  by   the  fountain, 
we  can  trace  the  course  of 
Saul  when  he  went  to  inquire 
at  the  witch  oi  EtH-^ot.   \^ 
was  a  periloxLB  joTune^,  lox 

^1 


THB  HASiBATH  SOHOIkAB*B  ITBXicSINnt. 


the  anny  of  the  Philistises  lay 
between  him  and  hie  destina- 
tion. This  he  would  leave  on 
his  left,  and  orossdng  the 
shoulder  of  Little  Hermon, 
descend  on  the  village  of 
En-dor. 

Bemonnting  oar  horses  we 
rode  across  the  plain  to 
Shunem,  which  we  could  see 
from  the  fountain,  lying  at  the 
base  of  Little  Hermon.  This 
was  the  home  of  the  8hana- 
mite  woman,  whose  kindness 
to  '*  the  man  of  God"  was  so 
signally  rewarded.  It  was 
into  these  fields  that  her  son, 
her  only  child,  "  went  out  to 
his  father,  to  the  reapers,"  and 
struck  down  by  the  hot  rays 
of  the  Eastern  sun,  was  car- 
ried home  to  his  mother  to 
die.  And  it  was  across  this 
plain  of  Esdraelon  that  the 
mother  hastened  to  the  pro- 
phet at  Carmel,  and,  refusing 
to  leave  him,  brought  him  back 
with  her  in  haste  to  Shunem, 
there  to  have  her  child  re- 
stored by  him  to  her  arms, 
thus  doubly  a  gift  from  God. 

We  passed  through  the 
gardens  of  Shunem,  sur- 
rounded by  high  hedges  of 
prickly  pear,  and  crossing 
Little  Hermon — which  is 
doubtless  the  *'hillof  Moreh," 
by  which  the  Midianites  were 
encamped  when  attacked  by 
Gideon — descended  upon  Nain. 
Here  it  was  that  Jesus,  com- 
ing from  Capernaum,  *'  as  He 
drew  nigh  unto  the  gate  of 
the  city,"  met  the  mourners 
carrying  to  the  tomb  the 
widow's  son,  **  the  only  boh  ol 
29 


his  mother  ;  **  and, 
with  Gompaseion,  rest 
to  life,  and  '*  ddx?< 
to  his  mdther  *' 

From  Nain  ire  rot 
the  base  of  the  hill  to 
the  only  remark&bl 
about  which  is  the  w 
caves  hewn  out  of  i 
around  the  town;  an 
curred  to  us,  what  a 
tation  one  of  these  wo 
been  for  "  the  witd 
dor." 

We  now  made  stn 
the  village  of  Deburie 
we  saw  lying  at  the 
Tabor,  about  three  n 
tant.  There  we  exp 
find  our  tents,  and  W( 
little  surprised,  whes 
rived,  to  find  no  trace 
nor  were  the  villagen 
give  us  any  informa 
cepting  that  there  wt 
some  miles  distant 
other  side  of  Tabor, 
was  possible  they  n 
We  were  fortunate  ii 
a  Bedouin,  who  imi 
saddled  his  mare,  and  i 
guide  us  to  this  spot, 
now  getting  rapidly  c 
we  hurried  through  i 
land  which  thickly 
the  sides  of  Tabor, 
as  our  wearied  horses  ( 
About  half  way  we  pa 
black  tents  of  a  lar 
encampment,  probabl 
same  tribe  to  which  g 
belonged,  and  reao 
fountain  we  were  in  s 
some  time  after  darl 
we  were  relieved  to  ; 


lABUkn  MBDULB*!  ZBUkSnBT. 


^btbience  to  Igtotlgcrs. 


UTIFUL    and   af-  Uttle  instaneeB    in  whicli,   I 
jfiotionate  son,  ha,w-  ,  tfaii^L,  I  might  hare  shewn  her 

ng  lost  his  mother,  atill  more  respect  and  atten- 

laid  to  one  of  his  tion/*    AVe  fear  that  daty  to 

[  do  not  believe  that  mothen    it  by  many    young 

rho  knows  me,  will  people    strangely    and    unac- 

3   with    having  ne-  oountably  neglected:  we  hope, 

datrtomymc^er;  therefore,  that  the  above  ex- 

her  death,  I  have  ample  will    be    profitable  to 

,  with  sorrow,  many  some  of  our  yoong  readers. 


£SUS,  tender  Shepherd,  hear  me  ; 
BleM  Thy  little  lamb  to-night : 
Through  the  darkness  be  Thou  near  me, 
Watch  my  sleep  till  morning  light. 

this  day  Thy  hand  hath  led  me, 
And  I  thank  Thee  for  Thy  care ; 
u  hast  clothed  me,  warmed  me,  fed  me ; 
IJstcn  to  my  evening  prayer. 

my  sins  be  all  forgiven ; 

Bless  the  friends  I  love  so  well ; 
ce  me  holy — then  to  heaven 

Take  me,  when  I  die,  to  dwell. 

Selected. 


%  6oolr  Crainittg. 


R  children  shonld  1>e  hand  in  signing  all  pardons, 
trained  as  early  as  ,  and  delighted  in  conveying, 
possible  to  acts  of  i  through  his  month,  all  the 
charity  and  mercy.  ';  favours  he  granted.  A.  noble 
le,  as  soon  as  his  /  training  for,  and  ViiIto\v\,q^qi[x 
m'ie,  employed  his  ■  toj  sovereign  power  \ 


THB'  lABBATB  SGBDCUl'ff  (DiaUfleaBi 


®|f  Pission  iitU. 


ritory 


XRB  OHUMBA  UIBUON. 

JAB  up  in  the  north- 
west of  India,  mnong 
the  Himalaya  monn- 
tains,  lies  the  ter- 
of  Ohtdnba.  It  is 
hounded  hy  the  States  of 
Cashmere,  Lahonl,  and  Kan- 
gra.  There  is  great  variety 
of  scenery  and  climate  in  the 
region ;  and  ereat  dlTersity  in 
the  flowers  and  frmts  it  pro- 
daces.  The  people,  who 
amonnt  to  ahont  120,000,  are 
very  poor,  and,  till  lately,  were 
mnch  oppressed  by  their 
priests,  or  the  officers  of  their 
rnler.  The  present  Bajah, 
an  amiable  yonng  man,  really 
anxions  for  the  improvement 
of  his  subjects,  sought  and 
obtained  the  services  of  a 
British  officer  as  superintend- 
ent. Under  the  able  man- 
agement of  Major  Beid  and 
his  successor,  Mr  Macnab, 
order,  law,  and  prosperity  have 
in  a  great  measure  been  in- 
troduced in  to  the  country. 

OHUMBA. 

The  capital,  Ghumba,  is  an 
ancient  town,  pleasantly  situa- 
ted on  the  banks  of  the  noisy 
Ravee.    It  is  the  residence  of 
the     Rajah,     and      contains 
numerous  temples,    dedicated 
to  the  goddess  Deoi  or  Kalee, 
richly  endowed,  and  swanning 
with    ignorant    and    corrupt 
priests.    The  houses  are  most- 
ij  wretohed    abodes,   coveted 
with  ahingles.     The   inhsbW 
30 


ants  are,  in  oaste 
ter,  similar  to  tb« 
the  plains ;  but  t 
simple,  frank,  and 
in  their  manner 
people  of  the  gr 
India,  though  dfi( 
by  vUe  immoratit: 

THE  CHTTMBA  Ifl 

The  Rev.  Mr 
minister  of  our  C 
of  singular  zeal 
ness  to   the  caut 
has  commenced 
this  secluded  an 
spot.    When  he 
of    founding    t! 
Major  Reid  rathe 
the  project— wis 
that   the    attem] 
deferred.      It   si 
able     that      mc 
reforms  should  1 
the  government 
dition  of  the   p 
an   undertaking 
well  alarm  both 
Brahmins,   shou 
Notwithstanding 
couragement,  th 
a  little  more  tha 
went  to  see  thi 
met  with  a  ver 
tion.     Quarters 
him  in  the  old  p 
and  materials  pr 
building  of  a  h 
and  school,  and 
afforded  for  the 
the  cause. 


\ 


KOVEIi  MODE  O] 


THS  BCUUaiB'BCflD&lB*8  TBSASIJRV. 


seply  interesting 
B  cammenoenient 
J  miBsion,  from 
e  A  lew  eztracti. 
edonrselvefl  in  a 
*yi  (two  natiTe 
seompanied  him), 
r  flix  paces  apart ; 
moh  prayer,  and 

the  Lord  was 
trath,we  set  forth 
le  oity,  proclaim- 
ed Toice  as  we 
n  English,  then 
en  in  Hindfi: — 
i  in  the  highest ^ 
ce,  and  good  wiU 
.  The  kingdom, 
ind  the  glory  be 
br  ever  and  ever, 
i  second  time  at 
ey  prayed  alond. 
me  they  went  to 
sorronnding  the 
ded  the  words  of 
)  ye  into  all  the 
Teach  the  Gospel 
ature.  He  that 
td  is  baptized 
ed;  but  he  tfmt 
wt  shall  be 
ark  xvi.  15,  16. 
te  dwellings,   in 

at  the  gate  of 
ese  solemn  truths 
Qed  : — Maharaj  ! 
8  of  God  are  to 

your  children, 
\at  are  afar  off, 
I  the  world  as  to 
ly-begotten  Son, 
ver  believeth  in 

not  perish,  but 
•ting  life.  Dear 
'<e  words  are  true, 
or  t/ie  kingdojn 


of  heaven  is  come  nigh  unto 
jfoiu  "^  Other  verses  were 
added ;  and  when  one  of  the 
three  grew  hoarse,  the  others 
continued  the  loud  proola- 
mation.** 

BE8ULT8. 

Crowds  followed  them ;  the 
Bi^ah  bowed  to  them ;  and 
the  children  repeated  their 
words.  They  next  ventured 
inside  the  courts  of  the  houses. 
*'  The  noise  we  made  at  one 
place,"  says  Hr  Ferguson, 
"  prepared  them  to  expect  us 
at  the  next.  By  the  end  of 
November  (within  less  than 
two  months),  there  was 
probably  not  one  person  in  the 
whole  city  and  immediate 
neighbourhood  who  had  not 
heard  of  the  name,  love,  and 
mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  Later,  much  in- 
fluence was  obtained  with 
the  amiable  young  Bajah. 
He  read  the  English  Bible 
with  them,  declared  it  must 
be  true ;  and  is  busy  learning 
Urdti,  that  he  may  read  it  for 
himself. 

Moreover,  upwards  of  forty 
persons    have    already    been 
baptized;   and  the  prospects 
of  success  are  most  encourag- 
ing.    Let  it  not  be  forgotten, 
however,   that  these  disciples 
will  require  a  long  course  of 
wise,  patient,  firm  and  kind 
teaching  and  training  in  order 
that  they  may  become  Christ - 
tians  in  reality,  as  well  as  in 
I  name.    The    good    seed   has 
'  been  sown ;   but  it  inil  t^- 
quire  much  pastoTal,  or  TVii^Iim 


XBfiB  UAX^'XB,  S0H0Ii4Bi'S  S9HKA0QH 


paternal  (for  these  converts 
are  in  truth  habes  as  respects 
Christian  truth  and  holiness) 
instruction,  watchfohiess,  and 
guidance :— otherwise  there  is 
great  reason  to  fear  that  the 
seed  will  be  snatched  away, 
or  that  the  tender  blade  wUl 
perish  in  the  season  of 
tribulation  and  persecution  so 
certain  to  come,  or  that 
worldly  cares  or  sensual 
pleasures  will  choke  the 
plants. 

Let  us  pray,  often  and 
fervently,  that  the  devoted 
missionary  may  be  guided 
and  blessed  in  his  noble 
work  ;  and  that  the  Ohumba 
disciples  may  daily  grow  in 
all  Christian  grace  and  in 
the  knowledge  of  God  their 
Saviour. 

THE  HAWAIUN  ISLANDS. 

Forty  years  ago,  the 
American  Board  of  Foreign 
Missions  sent  an  embassy  to 
the  Sandwich  Islands.  Then 
the  natives  were  described, 
too  truly,  as  more  false  than 
the  falsest  scum  of  Europe. 
Their  idols  were  not  more 
hideous  than  their  sacrifices ; 
their  destructive  volcanoes 
were  more  merciful  than  them- 
selves ;  they  were  degraded  so 
low  as  to  devour  vermin  and 
poisonous  reptiles.  The  first 
missionaries  are  still  alive, 
yet  paganism  is  abolished ;  the 
islands  are  ruled  by  Christian 
laws  under  a  Christian  king ; 
one-third  of  the  adults  are 
now  members  of  Protestant 
churches;  and  upv^KtdB  oi 
32 


50,000  have 
in  Christ.  D 
son,  the  Sec 
Board,  was  c 
the  Island  CI 
Though  wan 
seventy  years 
the  journey ; 
corded  his  im; 
entertaining  b 
is  already  a 
Hawaii ;  an  id 
seen ;  and  £u 
have  supplan 
barbarism  of  ii 
The  story  of  t 
being  rebuked 
for  visiting  hi; 
way,  went  o 
returned  in  fc 
with  a  pair  o 
and  a  beav( 
ludicrous  to  a 
European, 
ministers  is  or 
of  the  island 
and  languages 
most  efficientl; 

MISSIONARY 
M£ 

At  a  meeti 
in  London,  th 
one  of  the  se 
Church    Miss 
brought  forwi 
of    Foreign 
insisted  upon 
of   training 
and  preacherE 
esting  fact,  he 
number  of  C( 
connexion   wi 
Missionary 
24,000,  a  th 


lAaiATB  aaHOIjLB,*9  TBBASnilT. 


ttODgthe  enconrag- 


^erations  ivere  the 

of  the   miflsionaiy 

introdnction  of  the 

of  self-support  in 


year    for  religions  pnrposes. 


In  the  proTince  of  Tiiinevelly, 
in  Bonth  India,  the  contribu- 
tions for  one  Tillage  averaged     i 
£2   for    each    family.      Mr 
the  increase  of  the  '  Venn    complained    that    tlie      ; 
istry ;  and  the  move-     support  given  to  the  ('hnroh 
e  heathen  mind  to-    Missionary  Society  was   not      j 
itianity.  In  illnstra-     sufficiently     general.      ^Vith      \ 
te  second  point  ho    how  much  sad  truth  may  the      > 
e    case    of    Sierra  ,  Convener    of    our     Mission 
'n  the  natives  sub-  .  make  a  similar  couiplaiut  und 
}re  than  £1G00  a  .'  remonstrance  I 


60  ioxtl^  anb  ^oto. 

{oeth  forth  and  weejicth,  bearing  precions  bcikI,  rIiaII  (1onbt> 
kgoin  with  rejoidng,  bringing  Mb  sboavca  with  Iiiui."— 
.G. 

10  forth!  though  creeping,  bearing  precious  sewl, 
ft         Still  now  in  faith,  though  not  a  blade  apiwars: 
S    Go  forth !  the  Lauib  himself  the  way  duth  lead, 
erlasting  arms  are  o*er  thee  spread, 
lOuUt  reap  in  joy  all  thou  hast  sown  in  tears. 

.h  I  there  is  no  shadow  on  thy  brow, 

I  fear  that  rises — ^no  swift  cry  to  bless 

lin  thou  bearest — but  JJe  heedeth :  thou  I 

oon  rejoice — joy  breaketh  even  now ;  ' 

I  to  the  mark  of  thy  high  calling,  press  ! 

t  for  $li€ace$^  a  holy  patience  keep, 
ok  for  the  early  and  the  latter  rain, 
that  faith  has  scattered,  love  shall  reap, 
ss  is  sown,  thy  Lord  may  let  thee  weep, 
it  not  one  tear  of  them  shall  be  in  vain. 

ly  Beloved  geutly  Iteckons  on ; 

s  love  for  thee  ilhmies  each  passing  cloud ; 

yon  fair  land  of  light  at  last  is  won — 

ed-time  o'er  and  hardest  work  begun, 

!*11  own  the  fruit  that  shadows  now  ensUiovxOi. 

SeUdcd. 


^  t  a  r  &  i  It  9, 


»MgtHOSE  kind  tind  good  . 
JwBiSj  people  nho  vigit  the  | 
SJBby  aJiodea  of  the  Terj,  \ 
^^^  Toly  poor,  often  aee 
eigbts  that  olmoBt  lend  the 
heart.  Thej  find  several 
fuoiliea  cronded  into  hoaB«g 
which    ought    to    hold    ouL; 

Uonj  of  these  poor  folk 
have  no  regolar  way  of  enm- 
ingtheir living;  andwhenthej 
do  get  a  little  money  for  their 
wo^,  Uicj  are  too  commoul;  : 
tempted  to  leave  their  bare, 
cold,  chee"*ea«  room  for  the 
spirit-ahop,  and  there  vioste 
moaej  which 


aeWee  and  Uiaii 
When,  besi 
there  oomeB  ioi 
ings  the  other 
sickuesi.  then 
comea  terrible 
ricket;  bed  and 
go  to  the  pawn 
sick  person  m 
floor.  The  chi 
are  sold  tor  foi 
who  watch  b; 
have  to  oroneb 
the  conch. 
Alaa  t  it  is  g 


that  i 


TBB  9MamKTB  BCR0LAB'«  TSKAaVKT, 


in  abundance  at 
1  of  luxniy  and 
t,  there  shonldi't* 
3re  men,  wonifiD, 
■en,  die  literally  of 
1  cold. 

therefore,  in  this 
on  we  bless  God  for 
)rtable  homeg,  ire 
ok  with  pity  on  the 
Blesied  are  they 
aseiBt  in  relieTing 


the  destitute  and  safferin^. 
Blessed  are  they  who  sympa- 
thize truly  with  the  wretche<l. 

Vtom  tho  low  prayer  of  want/and 

plaint  of  woe 
Oh,  never,  never  torn  away  thine 

earl 
Forlorn   in    this    bleak     wiltii-r- 
nesa  below  I 
I  Ah!     what    w«n    innn     nhoalA 
I         Heaven  refuse  to  hear. 

Children'a  Prize. 


BIGH-HOI      a 

weaiy  life  I  lead 

of    it,"    thought 

Martha  Bean,  as 

d  the  brook  cany- 

e    her     milk-paU. 

e  'tis  work,  work, 

sing  till  night.     I 

well  be  an  African 

here's  poor  mother, 

ith  the  rheumatism, 

>  rise  from  her  chair 

elp,    much  less  to 

tiie  half  a  dozen 

lat  my  brother  has 

K>n    us,  so  all  the 

nd     nursing     and 

on  me.    Pm  sure 

kept  awake  half  the 

1  a  squalling  baby, 

to  labour  hard  all 

enough  to  driTe  a 

It*s  never  a  holi- 

;  and  as  for  a  new 

(onnct,  Where's  the 

buy   it,    'A'ith    all 

iren    to   feed   and 

*'  It's  a  weary  life," 

)eated  as  she  etkier- 

%ge,  where  her  sick 


mother  sat  wrapped  up  in 
flannels  by  the  lire,  with  the 
baby  asleep  in  a  cradle  boHidc 
her.  Mrs  Bean  was  weak  and 
full  of  aohes  and  paius,  but 
from  those  g«ntle  lips  no 
murmur  ever  was  heard. 

•*  Well,  Martha,  you're 
home  early,"  she  said,  ^fet- 
ing her  daughter  with  a  smile. 

'*  Yes,  mother,  because  I 
have  not  now  that  long  way 
to  go  round  by  the  bridge." 

**  It  was  an  excellent  plan 
to  put  those  couyenient  step- 
ping-stones across  the  river," 
said  Mrs  Bean. 

Martha  set  down  her  pail 
on  the  brick-paved  floor,  and 
threw  herself  on  a  cliair,  with 
a  weary  sigh.  *'  I  wish  tlmt 
there  were  stepping-HtoneH 
over  the  river  of  troulile," 
cried  she,  "  for  I  don't  see 
how  poor  folk  like  us  are  ever 
to  get  across." 

'*  There  are  stepping-stones, 
dear  Martha,"  said  her  moth- 
er ;    **  and  many  a  owe  W^ 
found  them  that  \<ro\i\(V.  Vv;^ 


I 


THE  SABBATH  BGHOLAB  8  TBEASTJST. 


been  drowned  in  trouble  with- 
out them." 

*'  Stepping-stones!  What 
do  you  mean  ?  "  cried  Martha, 
looking  with  surprise  at  the 
quiet  sufferer  as  she  spoke. 

"  There  are  three,  my  child, 
that  God  himself  has  set  in 
the  dreary  waters,  that  His 
people  may  pass  in  safety 
over  the  difficult  way.  They 
are — prudence,  patience,  and 
prayer.  By  prudence  we 
shun  many  a  trouble  which 
overwhelms  the  careless  and 
giddy.    By  patience  we   get 


over    those    troubl 
God  sends  to  pro 
try  us.    And  when 
waters  rise  high,  ai 
as  if  we  must  sin 
them,    then    the 
trembling    and  *  W€ 
firm  footing  in  pra% 
Dear  reader,  at  s< 
of  your  journey  tl 
you   will   have  to 
river  of  trouble, 
then  seek  and  find 
stepping  -  stones  — 
patience,  and  pray 
Advocate, 


,I^Y  Snowdrop,  pure  and  whit< 
Glittering  in  the  morning  lig 
Peeping  up,  so  brave  and  bol 

Laughing  at  the  winter's  cold ; 

Always  glad,  fair  thing,  are  we 

Thy  dear  fragile  form  to  see, 

And  thy  pretty  drooping  head 

Gracing  thus  our  garden  bed. 

All  the  more,  meek  Winter's  child, 

Now  the  winds  blow  bleak  and  vrild. 

And  each  garden  shrub  is  hid 

Under  a  snow  pyramid. 

We  must  love  thee,  pretty  one, 

Visiting  us  thus  alone ; 

Teaching  us,  in  darkest  days. 

Still  to  live  in  joy  and  praise; 

Though  not  timorous  and  weak. 

Yet  be  modest,  lowly,  meek ; 

Whispering,  though  danger  near, 

Not  to  murmur,  nor  to  fear ; 

But  when  Summer  joys  depart, 

Still  to  keep  a  happy  heart ; 

Though  a\oxi«  W^t  ^ath.  be  trod, 

lAve  to  punty  and  Ood. 


R  ii  in  appeal-  roanded  form  iiaconapicnoiui 
M  the  mo^t  i»-  feature  in  tli«e«Qei7ot  ventral  ! 
jkable  monntaJn  I'aleetine.  Oaks,  piatachiui,  | 
the  Halj  Land,  and  other  kinila  of  trees  and  | 
ne  in  the  plain  of '  flowcnug  Bhialn,  evin  \X»  '\ 
o3  iu  grncetallj  '  tidea    to    the    \(XY    vamxnlA,    \ 


THE  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*S  TBEASURT. 


which  is  tolerably  level,  and 
over  which  are  scattered  the 
ruins  of  a  fortress,  now  over- 
grown with  brushwood  and 
gigantic  thistles.  The  ascent 
is  easy,  and  we  took  our  horses 
to  the  top,  which  commands 
an  extensive  view  in  every 
direction.  Looking  towards 
the  west,  we  could  trace  a  con- 
siderable part  of  our  previous 
day's  journey — Nain  and  En- 
dor  lying  opposite,  at  the  base 
of  Little  Hermon. 

Tabor  is  the  traditional 
scene  of  the  Transfiguration, 
but  the  fact  that  its  summit 
was  at  that  time  occupied  by 
the  fortress,  of  which  the  ruins 
still  remain,  deprives  the  tra- 
dition of  any  degree  of  proba- 
bility. It  is  not  mentioned  at 
all  in  the  New  Testament,  but 
was  the  scene  of  some  of  the 
events  of  the  wars  during  the 
time  that  Israel  was  ruled  by 
Judges.  *'  Hath  not  the  Lord 
commanded,"  said  Deborah  to 
Barak,  *'  Go  and  draw  towards 
Mount  Tabor,  and  take  with 
thee  ten  thousand  men  of  the 
children  of  Naphtali  and  of 
the  children  of  Zebulun  ?  And 
I  will  draw  unto  thee,  to  the 
river  Kishon,  Sisera,  the  cap- 
tain of  Jabin's  army,  with  his 
chariots  and  his  multitude ; 
and  I  will  deliver  him  into 
thine  hand."  And  here  Ze- 
bah  and  Zalraunna  slew  the 
brethren  of  Gideon, — '*  each 
one  resembled  the  children  of 
a  king." 

Our  ride  from   Tabor    to- 
wards Tiberias  was  not  speci- 
ally  in  fceresting,  until  suddenly 
38 


the   ground   seemed 

before    us,    and  the 

Galilee  burst  upon 

lying  a  thousand  feet 

level  of  the  plain  acrt 

we  had  just  passed. 

a    lovely    scene  ;     i 

water,    smooth   as  { 

fleeting  the  mountai 

shut  it  in, — 

"  Graceful  aronnd  thee 

tains  meet. 

Thou  calm  reposing 

But,  ah  I  far  more,  tl 

feet 

Of  Jesus  walked  o'< 

During  the  steep, 
horseback)  somewha 
descent  to  Tiberias 
opportunity  to  exai 
fix  the  dififerent  poir 
view  in  our  memory. 

We  found  our  ten 
on  a  grassy  slope  cl 
water's  edge.  Clos 
Tiberias,  one  of  t 
cities  of  the  Jews, 
whom  live  here,  al 
out  of  a  population 
being  Israelites  Ii 
a  very  ruinous  appea 
walls  being  rent  and 
by  the  great  earth 
1st  January  1837, 
does  not  seem  to  ] 
any  attempt  to  rep 
Close  to  the  town,  a 
was  sailing,  in  wb 
some  fishermen 
their  nets.  This  ts 
time  of  our  \'isit, 
boat  on  the  lake. 

The  Sabbath  was 
Tiberias,  but  the  h( 
oppressive      that 
obliged  to  remain  un( 
of  QUI  tents  the  gr 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TREA8UBT. 


/ 


of  the  day.  It  was  here  that, 
according  to  tradition,  the  mi- 
raculous draught  of  fishes  took 
place,  and  we  were  interested 
in  seeing  the  different  kinds  of 
fish  from  the  lake  which  were 
brought  to  our  tents  for 
sale. 

On  the  7th  of  April  we  left 
Tiberias,  and  fording  one  or 
two  streams  which  fall  into 
the  lake,  rode  along  the  hanks 
as  far  as  Khan  Minyeh.  The 
oleanders  which  grew  in 
thickets  along  the  side  of  the 
water,  were  in  full  bloom,  and 
their  bunches  of  pink  flowers 
were  very  beautiful.  The  site 
of  Capernaum  l?as  been  the 
subject  of  much  dispute,  but  I 
prefer  the  belief  that  Khan 
Minyeh  is  the  spot ;  though  I 
confess  I  am  prejudiced,  as, 
owing  to  the  illness  of  one  of 
our  party,  we  were  unable  to 
proceed  to  Tell  Hfim,  which 
lies  farther  to  the  north,  and 
which  is  believed  by  some  to 
have  been  the  place  where  the 
Saviour's  city  stood.  At 
Kb  an  Minyeh  is  a  fountain 
called  "The  Fountain  of  the 
Fig,"  and  around  this  are  the 
remains  of  foundations  ;  but 
these,  and  some  shapeless 
heaps  of  stones,  are  all  that 
remain  of  that  great  city, 
which  was  once*  *'  exalted  to 
heaven." 

From  Khan  Minyeh  we 
began  the  ascent  to  Safed,  and 
continued  to  ascend  for  about 
three  hours.  This  is  another 
of  the  holy  cities  of  the  Jews. 
Its  chief  attraction  is  the  ex- 
tensive  and  interesting  view 


which  it  commands.  The 
town  is  picturesquely  situated 
on  a  steep  hillside,  a  deep 
ravine  surrounding  it  on  the 
north  and  west.  The  houses 
rise  one  above  another,  the 
roofs  of  each  row  serving  as  a 
street  for  the  one  above. 
This  plan  of  building  increased 
the  horrors  of  the  great  earth- 
quake of  1837  ;  for  the  upper 
houses,  falling  on  those  be- 
neath, crushed  them,  and  the 
whole  were  involved  in  one 
common  heap  of  ruins.  About 
5000  of  the  inhabitants  per- 
ished, of  whom  4000  were 
Jews.  Our  camp  was  a  short 
distance  from  the  town,  in  a 
grove  of  some  of  the  largest 
and  finest  olive  trees  we  had 
seen,  and  the  fresh  breezes  of 
the  hills  were  delightful  after 
the  close  oven-like  heat  of  the 
previous  day. 

About  mid-day,  on  the  9th 
of  April,  we  reached  the  site 
of  the  ancient  city  of  Laish  or 
Dan,  of  which  not  a  vestige 
now  remains.  The  situation 
well  deserves  the  description 
giyen  of  it  by  the  five  spies 
sent  by  the  Banites,  "  who 
sought  them  an  inheritance  to 
dwell  in."  "  We  have  seen 
the  land,  and  behold  it  is 
very  good,  a  place  where  there 
is  no  want  of  anything  that 
is  in  the  earth." 

At  this  spot  is  one  of  the 
largest  fountains  in  Syria,  per- 
haps in  the  world ;  and,  near 
it,  a  smaller  one.  These  are 
the  principal  sources  of  tl\ft  Sox- 
dan,  Ml^L  t\ifcVC  WTV\\fe^  %\X%»XS!L^ 

joined    ftboxiX   «.  tc:S\»   \»'^<2k^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEAglTB1l« 


L 


by  the  Nahr  Hasbany,  flows 
on  through  the  plain  to  the 
Waters  of  Merom.  This 
abundance  of  water  makes 
everything  grow  luxuriantly, 
and  was  a  contrast  to  the  dry 
and  barren  land  of  which  we 
had  seen  so  much  in  other 
parts  of  Palestine. 

Another  of  the  great  sources 
of  the  Jordan  is  at  Banias, 
the  ancient  Csesarea  Philippi, 
which  we  reached  in  the  after- 
noon. The  water  here  gushes 
forth,  a  rapid  stream,  from  a 
cavern  in  a  hillside  near  the 
town.  The  town  itself  is 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful  for 
situation  of  any  in  the  Holy 
Land.  All  around  are  streams 
and  cascades,  and  the  murmur 
of  flowing  waters,  so  that  this 
sweet  spot  well  merits  the 
name  which  has  been  given  it 
of  "the  Syrian  Tivoli." 

We  were  now  about  to  leave 
the  Holy  Land  and  enter  the 
district  of  the  Lebanon,  which 
has  sacred  associations  of  its 
own,  though  not  so  intimately 
connected  with  Bible  history. 
Its  scenery  also  is  fine,  and  in 
many  places  strikingly  grand ; 
and  the  localities  which  we 
visited  derived  a  melancholy 
interest  from  having  been  so 
recently  the  scenes  of  the  mas- 
sacre of  the  Christians  of  the 
Lebanon.  Hasbeya,  which  we 
reached  the  day  after  leaving 
Banisls,  was  one  of  the  princi- 
pal Maronite  villages ;  and  its 
terraced  vine-clad  hills,  and 
the  neat  houses  of  the  pictu- 
resquely situated  town,  BpoYe 
of  an  industriouB  and  t>)mi\>^ 
40 


people.  But,  alas! 
the  houses  were  in  i 
the  bare  and  blacke 
bore  witness  to  th( 
tragedies  of  which 
recently  been  the  sc< 

On  the  12th  of 
arrived  at  Damascus 
up  our  quarters  in 
hotel  in  the  *'str< 
Straight."  It  was 
for  us,  as  we  had 
under  a  roof  for  fa 
This  city  is  perhi 
associated  with  the  1 
any  other  spot  out  of 
Land,  and  is  one  of 
cities  in  the  worl 
stated  by  Josephus 
been  founded  by  Uz, 
grandson  of  Noah. 
vant  of  Abraham.  w( 
of  Damascus ;  and  i1 
the  city  of  Naaman  tl 
who,  with  patriotic 
teemed  the  Abana  i 
par,  now  called  thi 
and  '  Awaj,*  "better 
the  waters  of  Israel.' 

On  walking  thrc 
city,  we  were  muc 
with  the  desolatioi 
Christian  quarter, 
ruins,  the  houses  roo 
the  bare  walls  alone 
for  fire  had  been  em 
complete  the  destru 
gun  by  pillage  and 
It  is  believed  that  ne 
Christians  perished  i 
cus,  victims  to  the 
of  Moslem  fanatids: 
is  worthy  of  remark,  l 
the  rabble  rose  a^ 
CjVim\i«xi«^    there 


THa  UkBBATR  BGHOLAB's  TBKABUBi:. 


I  rise  to  the  west  of  the 
It  is  called  by  their  own 
"the  Pearl  of  the  East; 


the  15th  of  April  we  left  •  sands  of  the  desert  which  sur- 
itflns,  and  had  our  last  -  round  it  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
of  it  from  the  heights    reach. 

Grossing  the  range  of  the 
Anti  -  Lebanon,  we  reached 
Baalbec  in  two  days,  and  spent 
u  seen  in  that  bright  i  the  night  nnder  the  magnifi- 
ng  sunshine,  the  wHte  '  cent  ruins  of  the  Temple  of 
i  of  the  city  surrounded  .  the  Sun,  in  the  great  court  of 
)  fresh  green  of  the  wal-  i  which  our  tents  were  pitched, 
snd  mulberry  groves,  •  On  the  19th  of  April  we 
i  like  a  handful  of  pearls  .  crossed  the  Lebanon,  in  a 
red  0T6r  a  robe  of  green,  i  storm  of  wind  and  sleet,  and 
beauty  of  this  oasis  is  next  day  sailed  from  Beyrout 
red  yet  more  striking  by  !  for  Constantinople, 
lontrast  with  the  brown  I  £.  E.  S. 


"®62  ^tngbom  Come." 

[ASTWARD,  westward,  Lord,  in  glory, 
Be  Thy  bannered  Cross  unfurled, 
Till  from  vale  to  mountain  hoar}- 
Rolls  the  anthem  round  the  world. 
Reign,  oh.  reign  o'er  every  nation  \ 

Reign,  Redeemer,  Healer,  King^ 
And  with  songs  of  Thy  salvation 

Let  the  wide  creation  ring.  Selected. 


feje  6reat  ^torm  in  |nbia. 

rE     Government    of  i  Calcutta  frrom  ten  o'clock  in 
Bengal    has     pub-  |  the  forenoon  of  that  day  till 
lished  a  special  nar-  i  almost     sunset.      The    gale 
rative  of  the   great  ,  drove  up   the  river  Hooghly 
e  of  5th  October  last.  I  a  storm  wave  from   the   Bay 
narrative  collects  all  the  |  of  Bengal.    As  this  wave  rose 
and   states  them  with  I  in    some   cases  as    high    as 
joy ;  and  the  picture  is  a    thirty    feet,  and    swept   over 
appalling  one,  such  as  j  the  strongest  embankments,  it 
f,  happily  for  our  race,    was  very  much  more    disas- 


Idom  to  record, 
full    yiolenoe   of  the 


trous  than  the  mere  violence 
of  the  wind.    There  'veta,  ou 


was    experienced    &t  \  the  morning  oi  tti«A.  Sia:^ ,  V^^ 

4\ 


THB  SABBATH  BOHOIiAB*B  TBBAStTBT. 


yessels  within  the  port  of 
Calcutta.  Of  these  145  were 
driven  on  shore,  and  10  were 
sunk  in  the  river.  In  the 
city  and  in  Howrah,  196,431 
houses  and  huts  were  de- 
stroyed. The  storm  wave  at 
Saugor  Island  was  fifteen  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  land, 
and  as  it  swept  over  the  island 
it  utterly  destroyed  all  the 
houses  and  buildings,  and 
left  scarcely  a  living  creature 
there.  The  few  human  beings 
who  escaped  were  saved  either 
by  climbing  up  trees,  or  by 
floating  on  the  roofs  of  their 
houses,  which  the  wave  swept 
on  to  the  mainland  and  carried 
inland  many  miles.  The  loss 
of  cattle  has  been  very  great ; 
in  some  places  four-fifths  of 
them  have  perished.  The 
crops  have  been  greatly  in- 
jured; in  many  parts  wholly 
destroyed  by  the  salt  water. 

The  loss   of  life  has  been 
terrible.       The    returns     are  i 
necessarily    imperfect ;      but 
they  shew  how  awful  the  ca- 
lamity has  been.     In  the  one  i 
district  of  Midnapore  the  lives  | 
lost  are  set  down  at  20,065,  ! 
but  it  is  believed  to  have  been  . 
much  greater.     In  Goomghur  ', 
10,000  people  perished  out  of  i 
16,000.      In    Howrah    1978 
perished.     On  Saugor  Island, 


only  1488  remain  out  of  about 
6000.  In  short,  we  can 
hardly  doubt  that  the  estimate 
of  100,000  lives  lost  by  that 
cyclone  was  not  at  all  ex- 
aggerated. 

Two  days  after  the  storm 
about  1000  starving  men  made 
an  attack  upon  the  salt-stores 
at  one  place ;  they  wanted  salt 
to  mix  with  a  kind  of  grass 
which  they  ate  eagerly.  Some 
constables,  who  attempted  to 
stop  them,  were  beaten  off; 
the  **  fearful  hardships  of  the 
past  two  days  had  almost 
driven  the  survivors  mad." 

It  is  consolatory  to  know 
that  assistance  was  rendered 
with  the  utmost  promptitude. 
Government  did  much.  Steam- 
ers were  sent  with  large 
supplies  of  food.  A  public 
meeting  was  held  in  Calcutta, 
and,  with  the  liberal  help  of 
Bombay,  about  £30,000  was 
raised.  Too  much  praise  can- 
not be  given  to  those  mission- 
aries, who,  living  for  days  in 
canoes  and  half -flooded  huts, 
went  forth  among  Christians 
and  heathens  alike,  distribut- 
ing food  and  money;  nor  to 
those  private  gentlemen,  like 
Mr  Eraser,  who,  when  starving 
wretches  were  plundering  his 
stores,  was  busUy  engaged  in 
sending  relief  to  other  places. 


SABBATH  well  spent 
Brings  a  week  of  content 
And  strength  for  the  cares  of  the  morrow  ; 
But  a  Sabbatti  profaned, 
WhaVer  may  be  gained, 

la  a  certain  foierunner  ot  bottom. 

Sir  MoUKeu)  Ha\e. 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  CTBA6UET. 


®feje  Iglissiott  li^lk 


CHINA. 

JR  BALDWIN,  an 
American  mission- 
ary, pablishes  the 
following  statistics 
of  the  China  Mission : — 

The  missions  are  seated  at 
twelve  principal  centres. 
There  are  84  ordained  mis- 
sionaries; 108  stations  and 
out- stations ;  57  churches ; 
257G  is  the  whole  namber  of 
baptized  converts.  These  con- 
tributed during  the  year  1H63 
not  less  than  £400.  There 
are  19  boarding  schools  with 
247  pupils,  and  44  day-schools 
with  7\H)  pupils. 

Missions  were  planted  at 
Canton  in  1830;  and  the 
history  of  the  Mission  there 
is  a  standing  witness  to 
two  things  : — 1.  The  vitality 
of  Protestant  Christianity. 
Through  the  long  night  of 
apparent  failures  and  disas- 
ters, the  Church  has  nobly 
sustained  the  work  there ; 
and  now,  as  the  clouds  begin 
to  lift,  we  perceive  everywhere 
streaks  of  light  heralding  the 
fall  day.  Let  us  bless  God 
for  the  faith  of  the  Church, 
and  of  the  laborious  mission- 
aries, who  have  shewn,  by 
persistent  effort,  their  ardent 
love  for  the  souls  of  the 
haughty  Cantonese.  2.  The 
fact  that  circumstances,  almost 
wholly  external,  sometimes 
bar  the  way  to  success.  The 
Church  ought  to  make  allow- 


ance for  such  facts,  and  not 
expect  the  same  or  like  results 
always  in  different  places. 

Three  years  only  have 
elapsed  since  missionary  oper- 
ations were  commenced  in 
Pekin ;  and  the  Rev.  J.  Ed- 
kins,  of  the  London  Society, 
is  able  to  report  the  con- 
version of  twenty  Chinese 
and  ManchuB  to  the  faith  of 
Christ.  Some  of  the  converts 
afford  indications  that  they  are 
likely  to  become  earnest  pro- 
moters of  the  truth  among 
their  fellow-countrymen.  High 
officers  of  Government  find 
their  way  to  the  missionary 
liospital,  and  Christian  books 
find  their  way  into  the  palace. 
Two  very  interesting  young 
Chinamen  have  been  ba2)tized 
by  the  Church  missionaries  at 
Fuh-chau.  They  had  been 
under  instruction  some  time. 
♦'  My  good  and  faithful  cate- 
chist,"  writes  one  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, "  was  the  means  of 
their  conversion."  The  hea- 
then present  appeared  to  view 
the  baptism  with  much  inter- 
est. Among  them  was  one  of 
the  bitterest  opponents  of  the 
mission,  a  Confucianist.  At 
another  place,  some  distance 
from  Fuh-chau,  eight  adult 
converts  have  been  baptized  by 
American  missionaries  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

BBAHMINISM. 

The  Teft.4.ei  tqxjl'^  wsii"».^'st 

4^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCH0IiAB*8  TBEASUBr.' 


prove  that  BrahmiDism  is  the 
most  monstrous,  system  of  in- 
terference and  oppression  that 
the  world  has  ever  seen ;  and 
that  it  could  he  maintained 
only  hy  ignorance  and  super- 
stition of  the  grossest  kind. 
The  Hindoos  had  heen  taught 
to  helieve  that  in  all  the  daily 
concerns  of  life  Brahminical 
ministrations  were    essential 
to     worldly     success.       The 
Deity,  it  was  believed,  could 
not    he    propitiated    without 
large  money-payments  to  this 
favoured  race.     "  Every  form 
and  ceremony  of  religion" — it 
has  been  said — *'  all  the  public 
festivals ;    all    the    accidents 
and  concerns  of  life ;  the  re- 
volutions    of    the     heavenly 
bodies  ;  the  superstitious  f^ars 
of   the  people ;  births,  sick- 
nesses, marriages,  misfortunes; 
death ;  a  future  state, — have 
ftU  been  seized  as  a  source  of 
revenue  to    the    Brahmins." 
"The  farmer  does  not  reap 
his  harvest  without  paying  a 
Brahmin    to    perform    some 
ceremony ;  a  tradesman  cannot 
begin  business  without  a  fee 
to  a  Brahmin ;    a  fisherman 
cannot  build  a  new  boat,  nor 
begin  to  fish  in  a  spot  which 
he  has  farmed,  without  a  cere- 
mony and  a  fee.'^ 

And  as  the  Brahmin  was 
thus  the  controller  of  all  the 
ordinary  business  concerns  of 
his  countrymen,  so  also  was 
he  the  depository  of  all  the 
learning  of  the  country.  "It 
is  a  marked  and  peculiar  fea- 
ture of  Hindooism,"  eaya  oiie, 
himself  by  biiih  a  Hm^oo 
44 


"that  it  interferes 
treats  of, .  every  i 
of  secular  knowle 
human  genius  hae 
vented ;  so  that 
geography,  physics, 
cine,  metaphyacs, 
each  form  as  essen 
of  Hindooism  as  an 
topic  with  which  : 
cerned." 

But  when  Britisl 

humane  laws  were  e 

and  especially  whei 

education    began 

throughout   the  co 

Brahmins     felt     \ 

power   and   sacred 

were  in  danger.    } 

strous    lie     ezploc 

abominable  practic 

ed,  was  a  blow  sti 

priesthood ;  for  all 

strosities    and    ab 

had  their  root  in  '. 

and  could  not  be 

without  sore  dista 

confusion  of   the 

murder    of    wom< 

funeral-pile,    the 

little  children  in  i 

the  murder  of  th 

aged   on   the  ban 

Ganges,  the  murdc 

victims,  reared  and 

the  sacrifice,  were ; 

institutions,  from 

priesthood  derived 

or  power,   or  botl 

these    cruel  rites 

suppressed,     and 

superstitions  whic 

them    are    fast    < 

from  the  land. — A 

Kaoje's  History  o. 

War. 


mm  MwaATH  acaou^^B  tbsabubt. 


tbU :  %n  eu  tjgat  mtoU  b  l^ooh. 


Owl  wrote  a  book 
to  proTC  that  the 
snn  was  not  fnll  of 

light ;  that  the  moon 
reality  mneh  more 
;  that  past  ages  had 
K  mistake  about  it ; 
the  world  was  qnite 
rk  on  the  subject. 
t  a  wonderfal  book!** 
I  the  sight-birds ; 
must  be  right;  onr 
)wl  haying  snch  very 
B,  of  oonrse  she  can 
igh  all  the  mists  of 


ti 


true"  cried  the 
she  is  right,  no 
Ls  for  ns,  as  we  can- 
.  blink,  the  stin  and 
are  alike  to  ns ;  and 
Ing  we  know  there  is 
in  either;  so  we  go 
body  to  her  opinion." 
e  matter  was  buzzed 

the  eagle  heard  of 
died  the  birds  around 
,  looking  down  from 
throne,  spoke  thus : 
!ren  of  the  light  and 
y!  beware  of  night- 
Cheir  eyes  may  be 
i  they  are  so  formed 


that  they  cannot  receive  the 
light;  and  what  they  cannot 
see,  they  deny  the  existence  of. 
Let  them  praise  tlie  moon- 
light in  their  haunts ;  they 
baye  never  known  anything 
better ;  but  let  us  who  love 
the  light,  because  our  eyes  can 
bear  it,  give  glory  to  the  great 
Fountain  of  it,  and  make  our 
boast  of  the  sun,  while  we  pity 
the  ignorance  of  poor  moon- 
worshippers,  and  the  sad  lot 
of  those  who  live  in  darkness." 
The  Bombay  Guardian 
quotes  this  fable  by  Mrs 
Prosaer,  and  adds  very  truly  : 
— *•  We  have  had  much  of  this 
owl-literature  lately.  Men  who 
love  not  the  light,  and  whose 
eyes  cannot  bear  it,  have 
sought  to  depreciate  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  to  make  it  appear 
that  their  darkness  is  due  to 
the  inadequacy  of  light  in  the 
Bible,  rather  than  to  their 
own  defect  of  vision.  But 
they  have  simply  illustrated 
the  words  of  our  Lord: — 
*  The  light  of  the  body  is  the 
eye  ;  if  the  light  that  is  in  thee 
be  darkness,  how  great  is  that 
darkness  I' " 


§  u:  b  b  I  i  g  m. 


iIE    of    our    young 
readers  and  contri- 
butors are  probably 
ignorant     of    what  I 
ia.    Baddhism  ia  / 


that  system  of  religious  belief 
held  by  the  largest  number  of 
the  heathen  population  in  the 
whole    world.    Ita   ioWo^et^ 
are  calculated  to  'mnniX^cic  «.\i 


THE  SiBBATH  SCaOLAB*S  TBEASUBT. 


least  three  hnndred  and  fifty 
millions  of  people,  oeonpying 
the  vast  regions  of  centrsJ  and 
eastern  Asia,  Japan,  Ceylon, 
Siam,  Burmah,  and  Thibet 
and  Tartary  in  the  north. 
Such  is  the  power  of  the 
prince  of  darkness ! 

Spirit  of  truth  and  love. 
Life-giving,  holy  Dove, 

Speed  forth  thy  flight,       •, 
Move  on  the  waters'  face. 
Spreading  the  beams  of  grace, 
And  in  earth's  darkest  place, 

Let  there  be  light ! 

A  wonderful  and  mysterious 
personage  was  Gotama,  or 
Guatama  Buddha,  the  founder 
of  this  dark  and  debasing 
system  of  heathenism.  He  is 
said  to  have  appeared  about 
600  years  before  the  Christian 
era.  Buddhism  is  made  up 
of  legends,  superstitions,  and 
absurdities,  almost  beyond  be- 
lief, did  we  not  know  that 
Satan  blinds  the  eyes,  corrupts 
the  understanding,  and  hard- 
ens the  hearts  of  those  whom 
he  keeps  in  bondage.  We 
give  a  specimen  or  two  from 
among  ihe  many,  just  to  shew 
what  the  system  is. 

According  to  the  Buddhist 
belief,  the  earth  is  immovable, 
and  upon  it  is  placed  a  round 
mountain,  one  million  and  a 
half  miles  in  height,  the  earth 
itself  being  two  and  a  half 
millions  of  miles  in  thickness, 
below  which  are  three  worlds, 
of -'Stone,  water,  and  wind, 
each  of  incredible  thickness. 

The  Buddhists'  sun  is  500 

miles  in  height,  length,  &n^ 

breadth,  and  1500  in  c\icu\V 

46 


The  moon  is  said  to 
miles  in  length,  breai 
thickness,  and  1470  hi 
Notwithstandmg  these 
sions,  both  luminal 
swallowed  by  a  eertai 
Kahu,  a  giant  of  pr 
size,  whose  mouth  : 
miles  deep,  with  h( 
limbs  of  suitable  prop 
This  is  only  just  a 
of  the  absurdities  ol 
hism. 

Among  other  objecti 
ship  is  that  of  Gi 
foot,  on  high  mc 
where  he  is  supposed 
trodden  in  pursuing 

'.  his  marvellous  j 
How  striking  is  the  r( 
a   Christian  native,  i 

I  tending   a  traveller 

I  amongst  the  grand  ( 

lime    scenery,  where 

these    pretended  foot 

shewn : — '*  Oh,     mas1 

Siamese    see    Buddh 

stone,  and  do  not  se< 

these  grand  things." 

sad  is   the   thought, 

many  thousands  of  1 

heathen  are  thus  blii 

lowing  an  ima{Tinary 

not  knowing  that  the 

one  only  way  to  holi 

to  God  !     **  Jesus  sai 

the  way,  the   truth, 

life ;  no  man  cometh 

Father  but  bv  me  " 

Another  of  their 

relics  is  the  Sacred 

Buddha^   enclosed  ii 

cases    ornamented  w 

and  precious  stones, : 

\vtt.   \Xvek  Y^w^li^al   te 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB'S  TBEABURT. 


:L6  same  island  is  i 
tain  the  right  jaw- 
Ama  Buddha, 
igiooa  ceremonies 
>7  the  Buddhists  in 
sist  chietly  in  lis- 
he  reading  of  the 
of  Buddha,  who 
^red  the  most  per- 
nan  heings;  mak- 
8  to  his  image  or 


relics,  and  to'  the  priests ;  and 
also  demon  or  devil  worship, 
to  which  they  resort  in  all 
times  of  sicknesses  or  dis- 
tress. 

The  priesthood  is  marked 
hj  a  yellow  robe,  and  may  be 
assumed  or  resif^ced  at  plea- 
sure, and  tho  priests  are  for- 
bidden to  marry. —  C.  M,  J. 
Instructor. 


t  fcill  ittrt  mu  latfea." 


S  boys  and  girls 
ill  mind  what  their 
trents  say  when 
ey  are  in  their 
they  do  not  obey 
parents  are  not 
them.  Two  little 
t  play  in  a  garden 
was  a  tree  full  of 

3. 

ank/'  said  one  of 
us  pick  some  of 
cherries.      Look, 
,7  are  I" 

^illie,"  said  the 
>  must  not  touch 
know  we  were  told 
one  of  them." 
rank,  there  is  no 
see  us ;  you  need 
.id.  And  if  your 
d  find  out  that  we 
lie  is  so  kind  that 
»t  hurt  you." 
i  why  I  will  not 
,"  said  Frank  to 
'.  know  niy  father 
hurt  me;  yet  for 


me  to  disobey  would  hurt  my 
father,  and  I  would  not  wish 
to  grieve  him." 

Did  not  that  little  boy  know 
what  it  was  to  obey  ?  We  think 
he  must  have  loved  his  father. 

Now,  young  reader,  what 
can  you  say  for  yourself?  Do 
you  at  all  times  obey  your 
parents  ?  Is  there  no  bad 
temper  or  ugly  frown  seen  in 
you?  No  naughty  word  spoken 
by  jou  ?  Have  you  not  dis- 
obeyed, and  shewn  that  you 
have  got  an  evil  heart  within  ? 
As  a  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruits,  so  is  a  child  by  its  do- 
ings. Will  you  not,  then,  ask 
God  to  look  upon  you  with 
love,  and,  for  the  sake  ot  Jesus 
Christ,  to  forgive  you  all  your 
sins?  And  will  you  not  ask 
Him  for  His  grace,  that  your 
hearts  m^y  be  right  in  His 
sight  ?  Then  we  may  hope  to 
see  you  among  those  children 
who  try  to  make  their  parents 
happy. 

41 


THE  BABBAIH  SCROLAB  S  TBEA.S0ST. 


$Ui0ttB  of  fif^. 

THE  VIOLKT. 

^AVE  you  observed  in  Spring-ti; 
A  small  but  welcome  flowei 
Which  blooms  in  shady  place 
Or  in  some  rustic  bower  ? 
Tt  seems  to  shrink  from  notice, 
Beneath  its  leafy  shields ; 
But  you  are  sure  to  find  it 

By  the  sweet  smell  it  yields. 

The  Violet !  ah,  you  know  it, 

The  pretty,  ^lodest  thing ; 
In  town,  as  well  as  country, 

Fair  herald  of  the  Spring  ! 
Tied  up  in  tiny  bunches. 

The  sick  one's  room  it  cheers, 
And  by  its  lovely  perfume 

Itself  to  all  endears. 

A  shy,  sweet,  little  creature, 

Guileless  in  all  her  ways, 
Our  blue- eyed  Lucy  dreams  not 

How  oft  she  winneth  praise. 
When  strangers  gaze  upon  her, 

Close  to  our  side  she  clings, 
Unconscious  of  the  fragrance 

Which  all  around  she  flings. 

By  kind  and  loving  actions. 

By  winning  words  and  smiles, 
She  fills  our  home  with  gladness, 

Aild  every  care  beguiles. 
Thus  meek  and  unassuming. 

All  thoughts  of  self  put  low, 
Onr  humble  little  Lucy 

Does  \\fc6  tYift  WoW  ^ow» 


■  UXBUB  KKIHiU  I  TBUIUBI. 


:''^i^^i'i^,).»>.-:-    ' 


Mt^n's  ^n- 


kVELLrMADE  boj, 
tall  for  liiiBge,  with 
dark  cuil;  hiuT  nod 
Iwge  dark  ejea — 
r'B  eyeB,  Bretybody 
bta  sierfbod;  Mud 
ied   RsdoJJffe, 


My  opiuioD  is,  that  Uiia  ei- 
preaaion,  "  MotWa  boy," 
vas  Dili  gi'iieriilly  applied  id  a 
couipLiiiintiirj  or  raspeetful 
a-nse-mores  tl.O  pitj.  It 
eieiy  boy  vos  hia  mother'i 
boy,  in  Uie  MUBeuiK^ae^ifl«^ 
/  Badcliffe  might  b«  BBi&  \aV« 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  8  TBEAJfUBT. 


BO,  it  would  be  so  much  the  '  money,  getting  what 
better  for  boys  in  general,  and     he  could  from  his  m 
no  discredit  to  any  mother  in 
particular.     But  there  is  one 
thing  to  be  reckoned  in  the 
account,  'so  important   that, 
if  we  leave  that  out,  our  reck- 
oning  would  be    totally   in- 
correct.    If  being  a  mother's 
boy  means  being  what  Ned 
Radcliffe  was,  then  mothers 
mu8t  bear   some  likeness  to 
Ned  Eadclifife's  mother.     Ned 
loved  her  with  all  his  heart ; 
to  please  her,  what  would  he 
not  do  ?     To  offend  her,  the 
very  thought  was  so  painful  to 
him  that  he  turned  from  it 
with  horrur. 

An   upright  boy  — speaking 
the  truth  always,  cheerful,  in- 
telligent, active— such  a  boy 
as  would  be  most  likely  to 
prosper  in  the  world,  to  gain 
a  good  position,  and  win  the 
approval  of  the  wisest  and  the 
best.     Such   a  boy  was  Ned  j  to  read — the  psabnii 
Badcliffe,  his  mother*s  boy.       I  of  God*s  goodness  toi 
The  only  son  of  his  mother,  |  and  how  He  openeth 
and  she  was  a  widow ;  not  a  1  and    satisfieth   the 
wealthy  widow,  rich  in  this  •  every  living  thing. 


the  evening.  That 
of  learning  was  of  coi 
very  extensive  ;  but  it 
out  of  one  book — Hki 
volume  from  which  1 
and  the  ignonin 
alike  receive  the  best 
tion. 

Ned  used  to  sit  ' 
was  quite  a  small  d 
watch  his  mother*8 
busy  with  the  needle,  f 
He  wished  that  he  co 
her,  that  he  could  i 
from  so  many  hour's  ] 
that  he  could  help 
her  more  comfortable 
never  breathed  it  to 
she,  he  knew  full  we 
check  the  thought  as 
discontent  with  6 
mighty's  dealings. 

She  had  been  f^ 
him    one    day — anii 


world's  goods,  but  almost  as 
poor  as  the  widow  in  the  gos- 
pel, who,  when  she  cast  her 
two  mites  into  the  treasury, 
parted  with  all  her  living. 

Mother  and  son  lived  in  a 
little  hut  or  cottage  in  a  quiet 
country  lane,  leading  from 
Fiveaores  to  Meadowland .  The 
widow  taught  a  few  children,  '  know,  and  a  wannc 
JiA  a  little  plain  needlework,  — it  might  be  better 
was  always  ready  and  willing  j  ''  Never  think  th< 
to  earn  a  penny,  and  Ned  was  again/'  she  «nsweze 
out  in  the  fields  scaring  the  is  our  Father,  and  J 
birda  and  earning  a  IrifLe  ol  ,Nq\i\!»X."\^\i««X.Va^i^' 
50 


was  very  thoughtful 

minutes,  and  then  h 

"  Mother,  do  yon 

God   might   sometii 

His  hand  a  little  wid 

"  What  makes  yoi 

"  I  think,"  he  sa 

if  you  had  more  go* 

— a  little  moie  to 


THE  BABBiTH  8CR0LAB  8  TREABURT. 


nt  IS  good.  Ton 
me?" 

he  said,  tod  his 

.ghtly  as  he  smiled 

'  of  coarse  I  can 

X  am  *  mother  s 

remember,  then/' 
that  we  are  oar 
Idren— the  child- 
ler  who  cares  for 
n  any  parent  here 

liooght  was  fixed 
-a  nail  driven  in 

Ned  was  oat  in 
[e  had  been  set  to 
ap  in  the  hedge, 
a  handy  boy  and 
gentleman  came 
ray  slowly,  for  his 
st  cast  a  shoe, 
there  a  farrier  to 
here  ?" 

,   that   there    is, 
parts  of  a  mile 

{  no  help  for  it,** 

itleman.     "  Shew 

boy,  and  I'll  give 

(hot  throagh  the 
for  a  shilling  was 
e  to  him,  bat  he 
not  earn  it.  He 
nt  there  to  finish 
rk ;  by  twelve  it 
one,  and  then  he 
for  an  hoar;  bat 
jet  noon  and  the 
1  ilnfinisbed. 
rry  I  cannot  shew 
id,  **  bat  I  most 
ork." 
fman  looked  sur- 


prised. "  Silly  boy/'  he  said, 
"  it  will  cost  no  more  than  a 
few  minates  to  shew  me  the 
way,  ease  this  poor  brute,  and 
earn  a  shilling.    Come." 

**  I  am  sorry,"  the  boy  re- 
plied, working  on  persever- 
ingly  as  he  spoke,  '*  I  am 
very  sorry  for  yoa,  sir;  for 
the  poor  horse,  sir ;  and  for 
myself,  sir ;  bat  the  few  min- 
ates are  not  mine.  I  am 
paid  to  do  what  I  am  doin^i;, 
and  it  is  as  bad  to  thieve  time 
as  to  steal  money.** 

"  An  oddity,'*  said  the  gen- 
tleman, getting  off  his  horse 
and  patting  the  animal's  neck. 
'*  Who  has  taaght  yoa  this 
scrapalosity,  boy?" 

Ned  did  not  know  the  mean- 
ing of  that  word,  bat  he  knew 
that  all  he  had  been  taaght 
was  from  the  lips  of  his 
mother,  and  so  he  answered  : 

"Mother,  sir." 

"  Mother,'*  said  the  gentle- 
man, '*  mast  be  a  remarkably 
ehrewd  person,  a  pattern  villa- 
ger, to  be  execntcd  in  Dresden 
china  and  set  on  the  chimney- 
piece  ;  and  they  call  you" 

**  Motlier's  boy,  sir.** 

The  gentleman  laughed  out- 
right, and  then,  and  not  till 
then,  he  saw  the  boy's  face 
flush,  and  that  his  eyes  were 
full  of  meaning. 

"  I  am  a  poor  boy,  sir,"  he 
said,  "  and  cannot  be  expected 
to  know  good  manners.  I  try 
to  be  honest  and  to  love  my 
mother  and  my  God." 

The  gentleman  laughed  no 
morOf  but  spoke  in  a  iiees  osidi 
idnder  tone. 

5\ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEASUBT. 


"Yon  are  quite  right,  my 
lad,  and  I  will  wait  your  time. 
It  wants  less  than  fifteen 
minutes  to  noon;  then  after 
that  you  can  shew  me  to  the 
fiirrier*8.*» 

"  Very  willing,  sir." 

So  when  the  gap  in  the 
hedge  was  mended,  Ned  very 
readily  shewed  the  gentleman 
the  way  and  received  his  shil- 
ling. 

Bun  I  you  should  have  seen 
that  boy  run  with  the  prized 
shilling — it  almost  takes  away 
my  breath  to  think  of  it. 
Home,  home  to  his  mother,  to 
cast  the  treasure  into  her  lap. 
and  to  hear  her  words  as  she 
kissed  his  forehead,  "The 
Lord  is  opening  His  hand.** 

That  evening  the  gentleman 
came  to  the  cottage  and  asked 
for  "  mother's  boy."  He  was 
a  light-haired,  light-eyed, 
laughing  gentleman,  son  of 
my  Lady  Fanshaw— a  great 
notability  in  fashionable 
quarters— Dowager  Lady  Fan- 
shawls  son— -who  had  never 
been  his  mother's  boy— loung- 
ing away  his  life  at  the  club 
and  the  mess-table,  and  find- 
ing it  rather  dreary  work. 
This  gentleman  had  been 
struck  by  the  boy's  oddity,  and 
had  resolved  to  make  Ned  a 
liberal  offer.  I  think  I  told 
you  he  was  a  well-made  lad, 
tall  of  his  age.  Well,  the  son 
of  my  Lady  Fanshaw  intended 
to  take  him  into  his  service, 
to  put  him  into  livery,  and  to 
let  him  hang  on  to  the  back 
of  his  cab  as  a  "  Tiget  Tiiml" 
Very  much  smprieed  ivaa  "Vie 
52 


\ 


to  learn,  as  he  di 
"  mother's  boy" 
his  proposal  ;'thai 
take  service,  eve 
most  tempting  o1 
preferred  doing 
work  for  the 
rather  than  leav< 
and  live  in  luxury 

"  Simpleton," 
of  my  Lady  Fi 
you  not  observe 
ing  service  you  v 
looking  after  you: 
terest  as  well  a 
We  should  make 
in  time,  and  you 
to  send  your  n 
thing  handsome 
mas." 

"  I  would  rati 
her  and  work,"  i 
"  She  would  ne 
part  with  me,  an< 
I  should  never 
with  her." 

The  son  of  m^ 

• 

shaw,  who  thouj 
get  on  very  well 
mother,  and  did  i 
say  so,  went  hU 
his  tiger.  He  st 
parsonage,  two 
and  over  the  su] 
story. 

Two  or  three  d; 
Farmer  Fordingh 
from  the  pastor ; 
days  after  that  1 
ingham  offered 
on  his  farm  at  se 
a  week.  From  t 
began  to  prospei 
found  that  the  W4 
mother    obtained 


TBM  SABBiTH  IMHOLAB'S  TBXABITST. 


been.  Then  Ned's 
ere  raised,  and  he  be- 
.wftil  proprietor  of  ft 
eee  of  ground  of  his 
i  was  the  work  of 
Kit  they  were  years 
ipent.  God  was  open- 
tand.  The  pastor  had 
at  word  for  him,  so 
squire,  so  had  Farmer 
lam,  who,  except  on 
MMsasions,  was  rarely 

I  ntter  pleasant  things 
ly — ^bat  a  good  man 
at. 

3w  it  has  come  to  pass 
has  a  small  holding 
n — a  small  fEum  and 
it,  and  Ned's  mother 
9r  the  daily.  He  is 
tt    thriving   farmers 

II  poor ;  it  is  more 
>able  the  yalet  of  my 
i'anshaw^s  son — to 
gh  dignity  he  wonld 
1  by  this  time  had  he 
rice  with  his  lordship 
)  twice  the  money  for 
part  of  the  work, 
hat  ?  The  worth  of 
I  only  that  which  it 
g.  Heaps  of  gold 
rer  haye  made  Ned  so 
working  for  and  with 
r  he  loTes  so  dearly, 
ling  her  joy  in  all  his  J 


little  sneeesses.  It  is  the 
effort  of  his  life  to  make  her 
happy,  and  he  finds  his  hap- 
piness in  hers. 

It  is  a  snnny  Snnday  morn- 
ing,   and    the    stout    young 
fanner  is  in  the  village  church- 
yard, his  mother  leaning  on 
his  arm.    They  are  standing 
by  his  father's  grave.    A  kind 
voice  speaks  to  them.    It  is 
that  of  the  pastor. 
**  All  well  with  yon,  fiinner  ?" 
"  All  well,  sir." 
»» Prospering  ?•' 
**God  has  opened  His  hand.'* 
*'  And  God,"  says  the  pas- 
tor, **  is  very  faithful  to  all  His 
promises ;    you     know     the 
command  of  love  and  obedi- 
ence to  parents  is  the  first 
with      a     promise  —  mutual 
honour  and  love  to  both.    A 
good    son    always    brings    a 
blessing  on  himself.' 

"  Ay,  sir,  but  every  son  is 
not  blessed  with  such  a 
mother." 

The  pastor  smiles  very 
kindly,  takes  mother  and  son 
by  the  hand,  and  says  to  the 
former : — 

"Ah,  Mrs  Badcliffe,  your 
Ned  is  the  same  as  ever — his 
mother's  boyl" — The  Teach- 
er's Offering. 


It  tfee  mn,  tifee  Sfentl,  ami  %  f  ift." 

MID  life's  wild  commotion, 

Where  nought  the  heart  can  cheer, 
Who  pointa  beyond  the  ocean, 
To  bearen^a  brighter  sphere  ? 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB  S  TBEAfilTBT. 


Our  feeble  footsteps  gaiding, 
When  from  the  path  we  stray, 

Who  leads  to  bliss  abiding? 
Christ  is  our  only  Way. 

When  doubts  and  fears  distress  us, 

And  all  around  is  gloom. 
And  shame  and  fear  oppress  us, 

Who  can  our  souls  illume  ? 

Heaven's  rays  are  round  us  gleaming, 
And  making  all  things  bright ; 

The  sun  of  TrtUh  is  beaming, 
fn  glory  on  our  sight. 

Who  fills  our  hearts  with  gladness, 
That  none  can  take  away  ? 

Who  shews  us,  'midst  our  sadness, 
The  distant  realms  of  day  ? 

'Mid  fears  of  death  assailing, 
Who  stills  the  heart's  wil^  strife  ? 

'Tis  Christ!  our  aid  unfailing. 
The  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life, 


%  §\nha  llok  of  €n(mmi  | 


lately 


NE  of  the  corres- 
pondents of  a 
Bombay  native  news- 
paper says  :  —  *•  I 
witnessed  a  sight 
in  Wadgaum  Goopt,  which 
I  think  deserves  men- 
tion ;  and,  if  you  think  pro- 
per, you  can  put  it  in  your 
paper.  On  the  15th  of  Jan- 
uary, about  ten  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon,  a  Bramhachari 
(devotee)  came  to  this  place 
from  Ahmednnggor,  having  a 
cow  and  a  boy  with  him ;  and 
be  began  to  go  throTigjd  t^ie 
54 


town  begging  for 
eat  for  himself  f 
some  fodder  for  l 
owing  to  the  sea 
visions,   the    pec 
village  find  it  di 
on  themselves,  ai 
they  supply  such 
bawa    (devotee) 
pulse,   and  batte 
fodder  for  his  cov 
about    a   long  ti 
now  noon,  and  th 
not    secured  eno 
dinner.    The  Pat 


nSB  8A9BATH  80H0LAB  8  TBXA8UBY. 


h  for  one  small 
>w  conld  he  make 
*  The  bawa  now 
Y  angry,  and  at 
ethonght  himself 
'hieh  promised  to 
1.  He  took  hold 
larootee,  and  pnt- 
er  skin,  which  he 
3at,  on  the  top,  he 
and  thns  spoke:— 
otee,  you  are  ihe 
I  Tillage,  and  I  am 
t  you  to  the  test ; 
[ir,  pulse,  butter, 
or  my  cow,  and  I 
edge  that  you  are 
and  if  you  do  not 
[  will  understand 
B  false,  and  that, 
are  nothing  but  a 
I  sat  in  this  way 
Qe,  but  Marootee 
or  spoke ;  he  sat 
.one.  At  last  the 
le  very  much  en- 
bursting  out  into 
one  mad,  he  took 
lis  hand,  and  with 
[th,  struck  Maroo- 
(78  on  the  head, 
»u  are  a  stone,  and 
Of  all  the  red  paint 
Q  put  on  you,  and 
le  that  remains,  1 
kway."  After  he 
.8,  he  struck  the 
•ws  more  over  its 
I  he  stopped,  wait- 
rhether  Marootee 
bim  anything  or 
)w  could  he  get 
n  a  stone  ?  In  a 
30  began  to  howl 


again ;  and  again  he  struck 
Marootee  two  blows.  He 
repeated  this  perhaps  four 
times  ;  still  Marootee  would  do 
nothing  for  him ;  and  instead 
of  punishing  the  bawa  for 
dishonouring  him  thus,  he 
bore  the  beating  as  patiently 
as  any  criminal  could  do.  A 
good  many  people  had  assem- 
bled in  the  meantime  to  see 
the  sport.  At  length  two 
worshippers  of  Marootee  came 
to  perform  their  daily  worship 
to  the  god,  and  seeing  his. 
condition,  they  took  pity  on 
him  ;  not  only  so,  they  feared 
they  would  meet  with  great 
delay  in  performing  their 
worship  and  going  to  their 
work,  and  they  therefore  beg- 
ged the  bawa  to  get  off  from 
the  god,  promising  to  give  him 
two  pice  (a  farthing)  a  piece. 
The  Patel  also  came  up  at  the 
same  time,  and  with  great 
indignation,  rebuked  the&atra, 
saying,  "  Is  this  well  ?  Why, 
you  talk  just  like  the  Chris- 
tians who  say  that  Marootee 
is  no  god,  that  he  is  only  a 
stone — and  do  you  think  this 
right  r*  Then  the  Patel  told 
the  people  to  give  him  some- 
thing ;  and  the  bawa^  wiping, 
his  club  which  was  besmeared 
with  the  red  paint,  and  rolling 
up  his  deer  skin,  got  down 
from  Marootee's  head.  I  then 
took  occasion  to  shew  to  the 
people  that  Marootee  and 
their  other  gods  were  no  gods, 
i  and  they  all  acknowledged  the 
truth  of  my  doctrine. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR*B  TBEASUBT. 


®6e  l^isstffn  |ielb. 


the  marked  approbatum  of 
his  audience. 

The  prizes,  connBting  of 
E  are  indebted  to  the    handsomely  boand  bo(du,  woe 

then  distributed  by  the  obiir- 
man,  who  afterwards  made  i 
few  appropriate  remarks,  ex- 
pressive of  the  great  satisfM- 
tion  and  interest  felt  by  tk 
ladies  and  gentlemen  preseaii 
at     the     highly     ereditiUe 


ANNUAL   EXAMINATION  OP  OUR 
BOMBAY   INSTITUTION. 


Times  of  India  for 
the  following  inter- 
esting account : — 
The  annual  public  examina- 
tion  of    the  pupils    of    the 
General    Assembly's   Institu- 
tion in   connection   with  the 


Church  of  Scotland's  Mission,  j  maimer  in  which  the  pupfls 
was  held  at  the  Institution  late-  ;  had  gone  through  their  ex- 
ly.  A  number  of  ladies  and  gen-  ■  amination,  whi&  he  TOiy 
Uemen  were  present,  as  were  '  justly  remarked,  reflected  eon* 


also  many  native  gentlemen. 
Mr  J.  Connon  presided.  The 
meeting  having  been  opened 
with  prayer,  the  pupils  were 
examined  in  Scripture,  His- 
tory (both  British  and  In- 
dian),   Grammar    and    Geo- 


siderable  credit  on  the  metbod 
of  teaching  adopted  by  tbe 
Principal  and  Mr  Grant,  u 
well  as  on  the  attention  paid 
to  their  duties  by  the  natift 
teachers. 

The    Institution    proridM 


graphy ;  in  all  of  which  they  j  education  for  two  hundred  and 
acquitted  themselves  most  j  ninety-six  pupils  in  the  En- 
creditably.  There  were  also  I  glish  department,  and  eightj- 
a  number  of  essays  read  by  five  in  the  Marathi ;  seTenl 
the  young  men  of  the  more    of  whom  in  the  former  an 


pursuing  a  course  of  thfOolo- 
gical  study. 


NEED  OF  EDUCATIOH  OT 
INDIA. 

One  of  the  greatest  hia* 


advanced  classes,  some  of 
which  displayed  no  small 
amount  of  research  on  the 
part  of  their  writers.  To- 
wards the  conclusion  of  the 
exercises,  two  intelligent- 
looking  Hindoo  youths  solved,  drances  to  the  progress  of  the 
in  a  most  lucid  manner,  two  Gospel  in  India,  is  the  depk^ 
geometrical  problems  pro-  ;  able  ignorance  of  the  great 
pounded  by  the  Rev.  A.  Forbes,  .'  body  of  the  people.  ^  Aftar 
Principal  of  the  Institu-  '  careful  examination,  it  hai 
tion  :  one  of  these  boys,  quite  been  concluded  that  only  tie 
a  little  fellow,  who,  we  subse-  .  or  three  persons  in  every  hoB- 
quently  ascertained,  however,  !  dred  have  received  any  ediM' 
was  fourteen  years  old,  tion.  There  is  reason  to 
handled  the  subject  in  a  \)to-  y'beWes^^  N}ev«\>yel  \naxiY  vill^ei 
foand  manner,  which  eAicited  ^  Tio\.  onfe  YaSxrATsaiL  c»l  "wA 
66 


XHB  SABBATH  BOHOLAB'S  TBBASUBT. 


Thus,  when  a 
may  visit  them, 
iople  can  under- 
little,  of  what  be 
they  not  nnfre- 
undentand  very 
le  ezpressionB  he 
he  object  of  his 
It  is  also  evident, 
oh  dromnstanoes 
;ve  no  benefit  from 
t  religions  tracts 
rd  of  God  which 
rithin  their  reach, 
he  urgent  need  of 
efforts  in  India, 
,te  that  there  are 
millions  of  boys 
empire  who  ought 
ihool.  Of  these 
thousand  are  re- 
gally good  educa- 
lools  where  both 
1  the  yemaeular 
'e  taught.  There 
Ddred  and  eighty 
ho  are  receiving  a 
ir  education  in 
rngue  only.  And 
bably  six  hundred 
nsand  who  attend 
x>l8,  taught  by 
mpetent  persons, 
there  are  nearly  a 
lom  some  educa- 
l  imparted,  there 
than  fifteen  mil- 
holly  destitute  of 

st  remember  that, 
s  is  the  condition 
o  boys  as  regards 
}{  education,  the 
ixteen  millions  of 
orse.  There  are 
twenty  tbonsand  / 


girls  in  the  mission  schools, 
but  the  latest  estimate  does  not 
lead  to  the  belief  that  there  are 
more  than  thirty  thousand 
female  pupils  in  all  India ; — 
only  one  girl  out  of  every  five 
hundred  and  thirty  receiving 
any  education.  What  a  deplor- 
able condition  of  affairs  I 

To  enable  you  to  under- 
stand the  state  of  education 
in  the  country  districts,  we 
give  the  following  graphic  de- 
scription of 

NATIVE  SCHOOLS  IN  INDIA. 

A  visit  to  one  of  the  indigen- 
ous schools  of  Bengal,  and  a 
knowledge  of  the  system  of 
education  pursued  there,  would 
soon  shew  how  great  is  the 
benefit  conferred  by  missionary 
schools. 

Let  us  enter  the  school- 
house,  which  is  often  a  com- 
mon bamboo  hut,  with  mat 
walls  and  a  thin  roof  of  palm 
leaves.  The  floor  is  mud, 
washed  over  with  cow-dung, 
and  often,  from  the  rainy  cli- 
mate, saturated  with  water. 
Sometimes,  however,  the 
school  is  held  in  the  dirty 
outer  verandah  of  a  temple  or 
of  a  brick  house,  amid  the 
dust  and  cobwebs  of  years. 
In  order  to  be  respectable,  the 
floor  should  be  spread  with 
loose  mats,  to  be  rolled  up 
when  school  is  over ;  but  they 
are  all  in  pieces,  and  their  jag- 
ged edges  exhibit  in  abundance 
the  stnngs  and  grass  of  which 
they  are  composed.  Upon 
these  remnants  of  m«A>%  t\v& 
scholars  are  eeaie^  cto«a-\^%- 

^1 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEAfllTST. 


ged ;  thej  are    not  in  rows, 
bat  in  oonfasion;  there  is  a 
struggle  to  find  a  seat  on  the 
mats,  instead  of  on  the  mud 
floor.     They  are  ill-dressed, 
have  bnt  few  clothes,  and  these 
generally  in  a  very  dirty  con- 
dition.    The  most  noticeable 
articles  in  the  school  are  the 
long  strips  of  palm  leaf,   of 
which  each  boy  brings  a  bun- 
dle, and  these  are  lying  every- 
where   among    the    scholars. 
They  are  covered  all  over  with 
strange  figures,  professing  to 
be   Bengali  letters;   and  the 
boys  are  busy  with  their  inky 
fingers,  long  reed  pens,   and 
earthen  inkstands,  in  adding 
to  the  number  of  the  smudged 
hieroglyphics.       The    master 
walks  among  the  urchins,  cane 
in  hand,  mtdsing  a  free  use  of 
his  weapon.     Here,  in  the  cor- 
ner stands  one  lad,  tnll  and 
thin,  with  a  brick  on  his  head  : 
he     is    under    punishment. 
There  is  another  standing  on 
one  leg :  and  yet  another  bent 
down  with  a    brick    on    the 
middle   of  his  back;  woe  to 
him  if  he  let  it  fall !     Perhaps 
they  have  been  absent  for  some 
days,  or  have  been  found  de- 
ceiving the  master,  or  have 
failed  to  bring  more  than  half 
the  sixpenny  fee  for  the  last 
month's  instruction,  or  have 
forgotten  the  allowance  of  rice 
which  supplements    the    fee, 
or  have  &iled  in  some  other 
of  the  numerous  methods  on 
which  they  are  set  to  gather, 
from  their  different  homes,  the 
varied  contributions  that  make 
ap  the  poor  pittance  on  ^\uc\i 
68 


their  wretched  teach 

But  can  it  be  said 

learn  nothing  ?   Gert 

They  spend  weeks  an 

in  writing  largc-hai 

on  the  leaves ;  they  ( 

to  paper,  and  make  i 

ters,  double-letters, 

tractions  of  the  fift 

ters  of  the  alphabet, 

numerous  comlniiatii 

learn  also  the  mul^ 

table,  tables  of  we 

measures,  and  othei 

useful  knowledge; 

before  Pestalozzi  In 

his  system,  the  sin 

system  was  in  voci£n 

tion  in  India  for 

these  elements  of  '. 

to  classes  of  school 

out  the  use  of  bookf 

Nor  can  it  be  aa 

they  read  nothing ; 

the     common     spc 

which  they  study  f 

and    months ;    and 

book,    the    classic 

schools,  which  conts 

knowledge,    a    goo< 

idolatry,   and  a  cc 

amount  of  immore 

this  let  the  ignora 

master  be  added,  ai 

may  be  formed  of  t 

education    given 

years  in  these  comm 

In  a  better  class  < 

confined   solely  to 

Sanscrit  works  of  va 

are  taught;  but  altb 

is  now  some  impro 

towns,  the  indigene 

in  thousands  of  vill 

this  day  as  above  d< 

\  LacToix'  a  MenuyKQ 


nn  UBS1I8 


ffifet  gittU  «nt!. 


TLi 


IgOW,  U  it  true  wbat  I  sm  lold, 

[^    That  there  an  Umlu  witbin  the  fuld 

P        Of  God's  beloved  Son  ? 

JgsuB  Cbrial,  with  teacler  care, 

"    Hia  arm*  moat  gently  bear 

slplesfl  "Utile  one?" 

e  heard  mj  father  tt,y, 


Tbat  acaroe  could  walk  or  run, 
For  when  the  psrent's  love  beaouglit 
That  lie  would  tuuvb  the  child  she  brought. 

He  UeeMd  the  "litUe  one." 

And  I  ■  little  sirayinf;  lamb, 
Ala^  cowe  to  Jtaiu  aa  1  am, 

Though  gocilneaa  1  have  none  ■, 


THE  SABBATH  BCH0LAB*8  TBXABUXX. 


May  now  be  folded  to  His  breast 
As  birds  within  the  parent's  nest, 
And  be  His  *'  little  one." 

And  He  can  do  all  this  for  me, 
Because  in  sorrow  on  the  tree 

He  once  for  sinners  hang, 
And  having  washed  their  sins  away. 
He  now  njoices  day  by  day 

To  cleanse  the  *'  little  one.** 

Oihers  there  are  who  love  me  too ; 
Bnt  who  with  all  their  lore  can  do 

What  Jesus  Christ  hath  done  ? 
Then  if  He  teaches  me  to  pray, 
rjl  snrely  go  to  Him  and  say 

''Lord,  bless  thy  'littk  one.* 


»i 


Thus  by  this  glorious  Shepherd  ftd, 
And  by  His  mercy  gently  led 

Where  living  waters  run, 
My  greatest  pleasure  wUl  be  this, 
That  l*m  a  little  lamb  of  His, 

Who  loves  the  '4itde  ones.*" 


Salt 


JESUS,  fold  me  in  thy  gentle  arras. 
And  guard  thy  little  Iamb  from  all  alar 
Through  this  dark  night. 
O  Jesus,  do  thou  pardon  all  my  sin. 
And  in  thy  precious  blood  wash  me  quite  clean. 

And  set  me  right. 
()  Jesus,  bless  my  friends  so  kind  and  dear, 
Take  care  of  them,  and  be  thou  very  near 
To  all  this  night. 

THe  CKOdrvCt 


K  WKOLU'a  IKIlgDBT. 


)o!i  tjtt  f  ittlt  C^atUe  iii. 

I,  I  wish,"  Mid  I  I  conld  get  ricli  and  give  awftj 


little  boj  who 
oke  ekri;  one 
irning  uid  lay 


mnch  to  poor  people ; 
I  am  only  a  little  boy,  and  it 
will  take  me  a  great  m«a; 
years  to  grow  ap." 

And  BO,  was  he  goiog  to  pnt 
off  doing  good  till  then  ? 

"  Well,"  he  Biid  to  Mm»i\t 
while   he   was   iieBaVua,  "\ 
6\ 


THE  SABBATH  BCHOLAB*S  TBBABUBX. 


know  what  I  can  do.  I  can 
he  good:  that's  left  to  little 
boys." 

Therefore,  when  he  was 
dressed,  he  knelt  and  asked 
God  to  help  him  to  be  good, 
and  try  to  serve  Him  all  day 
with  his  heart,  and  not  forget. 
Then  he  went  downstairs  to 
iinish  his  sums. 

No  sooner  was  he  seated 
with  his  slate  before  him,  than 
his  mother  called  him  to  find 
his  little  brother.  Charlie 
did  not  want  to  leave  his 
lesson,  yet  he  cheerfully  said, 
*'  1*11  go,  mother,"  and  away 
he  ran. 

And  how  do  you  think  he 
found  "Eddie?"  With  a 
sharp  axe  in  his  hand  !  "I 
chop,"  he  said ;  and  quite 
likely  the  next  moment  he 
would  have  chopped  off  his 
little  toes.  Charlie  only 
thought  of  minding  his 
mother ;  but  who  can  tell 
if  his  ready  obedience  did  not 
save  his  baby  brother  from 
being  a  cripple  for  life  ? 

At  family  prayers  Charlie 
behaved  like  a  Christian  boy. 
As  Charlie  was  going  on  an 
errand  for  his  mother,  he  saw 
a  poor  woman  whose  foot  had 
slipped  on  the  newly-made  ice 
and  she  fell,  and  in  falling 
she  had  spilled  her  basket  of 
nuts  and  apples,  and  some 
wicked  boys  were  snatching 
up  her  apples  and  running  off 
with  them.  Little  Charlie 
stopped  and  said,  **  Let  me 
help  you  to  pick  up  your  nuts 
and  apples,"  and  his  nimble 
&DgerB  quickly  helped  her  out 
62 


of  her  trouble.  ] 
know  how  his  kin 
forted  the  poor  y 
after  she  got  hom> 
she  prayed  God  to 

At  dinner,  as  hi 
mother  were  ta 
father  said  ronghl; 
not  do  anything  fo 
son  :  the  old  man 
his  best  to  injure  i 

♦'  But,  father,"  i 
looking  up  into 
face,  **  does  not  tl 
that  we  must  retu 
evil  ?" 

Charlie  did  not 
his  father  thought 
noon  of  what  his  I 
Kaid,  and  that  he 
mured  to  himself, 
more  of  a  Christia] 
I  must  be  a  better 

When  Charlie 
from  school  at  nig 
that  his  dear  lil 
bird  was  dead.  ** 
and  I  took  such  ca 
and  I  loved  him 
sang  so  sweetly.' 
little  boy  burst  int 
his  poor  favourite. 

His  mother  trie 
him.    "  Who  gave 
and  who  took  it  f 
;  asked,     stroking 
gently. 

"God,"heanswe 
his  tears,  '*  and 
best,"  and  he  tri 
himself. 

A  lady  who  wa 

was    sitting  in  tl 

the    time.       She 

her  two  children,  i 

\  she   hoped   they 


TBS  flABBlTH  tBCR0LA»*8  TBEIETTBT. 

DgB  mnd  gone  to  When  Charlie  laid  his  head 
he  beaTenly  land,  on  his  pillow  that  night  be 
rather  have  had !  thoaght,  '*  I  am  too  little  to 
ns  haekto  her  nest !  do  good ;  hnt,  oh  !  I  do  want 
t  when  she  beheld  j  to  he  good  and  to  love  the 
latiendfe  and  snb-  i  Bavionr,  who  eame  down  from 
his  Father  in  i  heaven  to  die  for  me.**—  S.  S. 
)  aaid,  *'  I  too  will ;  Advocate, 
ike  this  UtUe  child/, 


_y^M«>^^  '^rf^.^N-*^'^>*»»^V 


Wm\  $fa«  tff  iifilit. 

DO  not  ask,  0  Lord,  that  life  may  be 

A  pleanant  road ; 
I  do  not  a»k  that  7  boa  wouldst  take  from  me 

Aught  of  its  load ; 

ask  that  flowers  sbould  always  spring 
eath  my  feet; 

too  well  the  poison  and  the  sting 
bingf  too  sweet. 

thing  only.  Lord,  dear  Lord,  I  plead, 

d  me  aright — 

strength  should  falter,  and  though  heart  should 

eed — 

•ough  Peace  to  Light. 

ask,  O  Lord,  that  Thou  shouldst  shed 
I  radiance  here ; 

t  a  ray  of  peace,  that  I  may  tread 
:hout  a  fear. 

ask  my  cross  to  understand, 
way  to  see — 

1  darkness  just  to  feel  Thy  hand 
I  follow  Thee. 

ke  rcHttless  day;  but  peace  divine 

e  quiet  night ; 

»,  ()  Lord— till  perfect  Day  shall  shine— 

ough  Veac$  to  Light, 

SeZecfed. 


THE  BABBAtH  8CH0LAB*8  TBMABOMI, 


tl^t  iisa$$ointm(nt 


NE  fine  day  in  August, 
just  after  the  dock 
bad  struck  twelye,  a 
group  of  girls,  of 
Tarions  ages,  assembled  in  the 
playground  adjoining  tbeir 
scboolroom,  and  began  to  talk 
earnestly  on  what  appeared 
from  their  countenances  to  be 
a  pleasing  and  important  sub- 
ject. After  half  an  hour  spent 
in  Tery  animated  conversation 
they  left  the  playground,  and 
hastened  to  their  respective 
homes.  I  had  been  watching 
them  with  some  amusement 
and  curiosity,  but  was  not 
long  left  to  wonder,  for  my 
young  friend  Louisa,  who  was 
one  of  the  group,  informed  me 
that  they  had  been  proposing 
a  treat  for  their  next  half- 
holiday.  •'  If  our  parentis 
will  give  us  permission,"  said 
she,  **  we  intend  to  take  some 
refreshment  with  us,  and 
spend  the  whole  afternoon  and 
evening  out  of  doors.  "We 
shall  go  through  the  meadow 
until  we  get  to  the  fiEirm  house, 
where  we  mean. to  buy  some 
milk;  then  we  shall  go  into 
the  wood  at  the  back  of  the 
house  and  gather  wild  flowers ; 
and  when  we  are  quite  tired 
of  wandering  through  the  wood, 
we  shall  climb  the  steep  hill 
(which  you  told  us  was  prob- 
ably raised  by  the  Druids, 
nearly  two  thousand  years 
ago^,  and  rest  under  the  shade 
of  tne  oak  :  oh  !  will  it  not  be 
delightfal?  I  do  hope  mamma 
64 


will  allow  me  to  gc 
dear  girl's  eyes  8h< 
with  the  joyful  ant 

There  was  not 
culty  in  obtaining 
of  their  parents,  a 
lowing  Wednesday 
upon  for  their  littit 
How  slowly  the  tii 
But  Wednesday  mc 
at  length,  and  as 
morning  as  ever 
sun  shone  upon, 
up  with  the  lark, 
had  been  intruste 
important  matter 
up  the  sandwiches 
which  had  been  p 
the  children. 

As  soon  as  the 
over,  they  again 
the  playground,  au' 
schoolfellows  told 
they  intended  to  i 
on  the  hill,  just  li 
sies. 

♦'  Oh,  do  not  t 
Annie,"  said  she, 
dangerous." 

*'  Never  fear," 
companion,  "  we  sj 
careful,   so  make 
dress,    Louisa ;     ^ 
waiting  for  you." 

Louisa's  lip  qui 
hesitated  for  a  fen 
and  then  firmly  i 
cannot  go  with  yon 

"Cannot  go  I" 
several  of  the  chilt 
not,  Louisa  ?  "^ 

*' Because   I  A 


XHS  BABBAXH  flOHOLAB*!  TBSABUBT. 


vppj  if  she  knew  ire 
ing     to     make     a 

our  Tnamma  ga^  yon 
n  to  go." 

but  ahe  would  not 
)  80  if  ahe  had  known 
lo  not  light  a  fire  1" 

Terj  ill-natured  of 
I  Annie,  **  to  wish  to 

pleasure ;  besides, 
una  need  not  know 
abont  it.  But  come 
Is,  we  cannot  waste 

if  Louisa  won*t  go 
I  dare  say  we  shall 
lelTes  Tery  well  with- 

watched  them  nntil 
the  road  hid  them 

▼iew,  and  then, 
to  her  own  room, 

into  tears.  Poor 
(7as  a  great  disap- 
;  but  her  conscience 
ihe  had  done  right, 
)  knelt  down  by  her 
ad  thanked  God  for 
her  to  resist  temp- 
B  felt  peacefnl  and 


was 


weekly 


boarder,  and  as  soon  aa  she 
retomed  home  on  the  Sainr- 
day,  her  little  brothers  and 
sisters  crowded  roond  her,  and 
began  asking  her  a  whole 
host  of  questions  about  the 
delightful  holiday  she  had  on 
Wednesday;  but  great  was 
their  surprise  when  she 
quietly  told  them  she  was  not 
one  of  the  party. 

When  the  little  ones  were 
in  bed,  Mrs  Morris  called 
Louisa  to  her,  and  inquired 
what  had  occurred  to  disap- 
point her.  Louisa  told  her  all 
particulars;  and  oh!  how 
amply  was  she  repaid  when 
her  mother  pressed  an  approv- 
ing kiss  upon  her  cheek,  and 
said,  in  a  Toice  trembling  with 
emotion,  "  God  bless  you,  my 
darling." 

And  now,  dear  children,  I 
will  ask  you  one  question.  Do 
you  act  in  your  parents' 
absence  as  you  would  do  if 
they  were  present?  Striye 
oyer  to  do  so,  and  ask  God  to 
give  you  His  Holy  Spirit  for 
ttie  dear  Saviour's  sake. — llie 
Children's  Friend, 


%n  InHan  forrifan^. 


May  1833,  there 
nrst  upon  the  douth- 
m  districts  of  Ben- 
al,  the  most  awful 
that  had  been 
'  a  hundred  years. 
I  as  usual  from  the 
,  with  squalls  and 
1,    and   with    brief 


bursts  of  lightning  and  thun- 
der. The  wind  continued  to 
increase  for  two  or  three  days, 
and  at  last  its  fury  was  inde- 
scribable. It  was  not  steady, 
but  came  in  gusts  so  fearfully 
violent  that  nothing  could 
withstand  them.  Trees  were 
uprooted   by  "huxidxe^^n  v[^*^ 


m 


THE  8ABB1TH  EOHOLAB'S  TBBASmR. 


houses  blown  to  pieces.  The 
most  remarkable  and  appal- 
ling feature  of  the  hurricane 
appeared  in  the  very  height 
of  the  storm,  jast  when  the 
heayy  sqnalls  and  rain  ren- 
dered it  almost  impracticable 
to  stir  abroad.  A  series  of 
terrific  rolling  wares,  the  least 
of  which  were  ten  feet  in 
height,  burst  upon  the  land 
from  the  soutii-east;  they 
broke  down  the  embankments, 
crossed  the  country  like 
Mighty  walls,  with  steady 
march,  sweeping  eyerything 
before  them;  and,  aided  by 
the  hurricane,  did  not  exhaust 
their  impetus  till  they  had 
reached  a  distance  inland  of 
more  than  fifty  miles  oyer  the 
leyel  plains.  At  Ehari,  the 
peasants.  Christian  and  Hin- 
doo, alarmed  by  the  distant 
rushing  sound,  saw  with 
astonishment  the  foaming  wall 
marching  across  the  fields,  and 
nuhed  for  safety  to  the  flat 


roof  of  the  bride  di 
highest  spot  in  thfl 
Wild  deer,  wild  beasti 
dreds,  driyen  from  t) 
bouring  foreels,  a; 
them  many  tigers,  a 
stricken,  came  bomid 
the  plain,  fleeing  i 
resistless  destroyer : 
the  mighty  waves  caz 
ing  past  with  appal] 
sweeping  away  trees 
dens,  and  destroyii 
house  oyer  the  001 
many  many  miles. 

The  island  of  Sai 
all  its  coasts  swept 
mendous  violence ; 
centre  of  the  island 
aboTe  the  water,  an 
solitary  house  of  th< 
where  the  natives  fo 
ter ,  a  tiger  rushed  in  1 
people  seeking  the  san 

It  is  reckoned  thi 
thousand  lives  werf 
that  terrible  huj 
Mullens. 


■  •glissianarg  ^^Wm^  in  t|t  %m%  '. 


0  let  you  know  some- 
thing of  missionary 
work  in  that  very 
interesting  field,  we 
extract  the  following  from  an 
article  in  the  last  number  of 
Christian  Work,  ecmtributed 
by  the  Rev.  P.  G.  Bird. 

"  Atafu  consists  of  sixty- 
three  distinct  islets,  enclosing 
a  spadous  lagoon  three  miles 
long  and  two  and  a-hsilf  w\<Vq. 


The  islets  are  from 
ten  feet  above  the  le 
sea,  and  are  densel 
with  cocoa-nut  and 
trees." 

**  The  day  passec 
I  examined  the  ae 
held  service  in  the 
I  was  greatly  surp 
delighted  to  hear  sii 
girls   and  ten  boys 


THX  MBBATB  ■CHOULB'd  TBXISUBT. 


Qeehildlreiilelni- 
)  their  alpihabet 
hij  adults  in  the 
il  tm  retd,  irith 
I  few  who  tre  old 
1  can  nerer  learn. 
M  128  were  pre- 
<  the  eermon  all 
I  ear,'  and,  I  may 
,'  too.  At  the 
eiBed  onr  great 
rith  what  we  had 
rd,  and  exhorted 
at,  with  purpose 
ay  wonld  cleaTe 

Rfn  hy  inn-down ; 
help  exclaiming,  | 
od  wrought  here!*  | 
the  19th  Novem- 
two  teachers  were 
e  OTerthrow  of 
oeTer  heen  more 
r  more  speedily 
lere,  to  my  know- 


ledge. Why,  hnt  sixteen 
months  hefore,  the  ])eople 
were  heathens.  Polygamy, 
naked  dances,  and  all  manner 
of  heathen  abominations  were 
rampant.  Now,  only  cne 
polygamist  remained  on  the 
island.  All  heathen  praetices 
are  given  np.  3'/im,  they 
knew  not  the  Ood  who  made 
them,  and  in  whose  hand  is 
their  breath.  Now,  they  know 
and  have  embraced  His  wor- 
ship, learned  to  read,  and  de- 
light to  hear  and  obey,  and 
haye  raised  a  honse  of  prayer 
and  praise.  Surely  tbe  pro- 
phet^s  words  haye  been 
answered,  at  least  in  part, 
*  Who  hath  heard  such  a 
thing  ?  Who  hath  seen  snch 
a  thing?  Shall  a  nation  be 
bom  at  once  ?* — in  the  case 
of  this  little  coral  isle  of  the 
Pacific." 


^tranjje  ^tiiits. 


leyelly  there  is  a  ' 
hen  town  called 
anlly,  abounding  ; 
pey-coils,     or  I 

the  largest  of ; 
edioated  to  a  pey  \ 
.),  called  Pooley-  i 
is  the  faTonrite,  | 
t  dreaded  deity  of  | 
B  hymned  in  .  a  ' 
I  of  some  merit, 
)ted  to  be  appeas- 
ngs  of   mutton, 

cheroots.  And 
on  imagine  this 
?r8onag0  to  be? 


Ton  may  well  be  astonished  to 
learn  that  he  is  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  the  spirit  of  an 
English  officer  of  the  name  of 
Pole,  or  Powell,  or  some  simi- 
lar name,  metamorphosed  by 
the  Hindoos  into  Pooley,  who 
was  killed  in  battle  and  buried 
near  their  town. 

Haying  met  with  a  violent 
death,  he  was  supposed  to 
haunt  the  place,  and  his  ghost 
was  thought  to  be  the  cause  of 
all  the  sicknesses  of  man  and 
beast  in  the  neigYibonxV^oo^. 
A  man  conld  not  ge^  ^  YveoA- 


.  \ 


\ 


•ch«  when  vraUcing  put  the 
grave,  bat  the  Engliahmsn'B 
spirit  was  taxed  as  (he  aathor 
of  it.  The  fooliah  and  miser- 
able people  at  length  sent  a 
depatetiDn,  inyiled  the  spirit 
to  their  town,  bribing  it  with 
the  offer  of  a  larger  altar  than 
an  J  that  had  been  e«er  erected 
there,  promised  offerings  snch 
atl  they  ehrendlj  imagined 
vonld  be  moat  grateful  to  an 
English  officer's  ghost,  and 
proTided  a  native  poet  to  pre- 
pare a  hjmn,  to  be  enng  on 
p«cu]iarl7  eolemn  occasione. 

Here  Is  the  hiBtorj  of  another 
pey.  KittSTarayen  was  a  8nd' 
ra  and  a  Totarj  of  the  goddess 


Kali.  He  ma  put 
ImpalemeDt,  by  a 
irhom  he  had  deej 
Bnt  while  in  the 
death  he  invoked 
snch  ferrenoj  that 
of  the  gaddeBS  m 
with  bia  spirit.    1 

peraeented  the  broi 
for  the  sake  of  peaa 
min  raised  an  altar, 
tnted  religions  ri 
hononr.  And,  wo 
aaj,  men  were  blini 
to  worship  ae  a  god 
wooden  image  of  a 
adnlterer. — MemoU 


tJe^HERF.  are  you  going  my  lilOa  ^ri 
With  your  basket  on  yoar  am 
"  1  am  going,  dear  ma'am,  to  re* 
Who  live*  ou  the  'Brwfea'iiB  livm. 


TRX  BiBBiTR  80H0LAB*8  TBSABiniT. 


"  That  is  her  honte  by  the  wUlow  tree, 

So  money,  and  hrown,  and  old ; 
'Us  a  plearant  place  in  the  snmmer  time, 

fiat  in  winter  *tie  very  cold.** 

*'  What  hook  do  you  take,  my  little  girl. 

To  read  to  the  poor  old  dame?" 
"I  always  take  the  Bible  to  her, 

fiecaose  she  is  poor  and  iame. 

**  She  creeps  to  the  grassplot  by  the  tree, 

To  listen  to  what  I  read, 
And  she  says,  *  The  sweet  and  holy  words 

Are  comfort  to  me  indeed. 

" '  Oh !  of  such  as  I  the  Saviour  speaks 

When  He  says  the  poor  are  blest, 
I  am  glad  that  He  bids  the  weary  come. 

And  says  He'll  give  them  rest. 

"  'lis  pleasant  to  read  to  poor  old  Jane, 

Of  the  world  where  all  is  light ; 
There  Jesus  will  wipe  away  her  tears, 

And  there  will  be  no  more  night** 

'*  Go  on,  go  on,  thou  ministering  child. 

Go  on  in  thy  task  of  love, 
Until  thou  art  called  from  toork  below. 

To  praige  in  the  world  above.**  Selected. 


"It  §usrCt  las." 


YOUNG  lad  was  walk- 
ing     very    quickly 
along  the  street  with 
his  eyes  down,  and 
hand  in  his  pocket,  and 
WHS  shaking  his  head  and 
tering    to    himself,    "  It  j 


"Who  is  it?  what  is  he 
talking  about  ?  "  said  one  who 
met  hun.  "  1*11  get  in  his  path 
there,  and  make  him  look  up. 
It  is  bad  enough  to  have  busi- 
ness men  get  lost  in  a  brown 
study  and  talk  to  themselves — 
in*t  pay !  No,  it  doesn't  /  ^hy,  I  declare,  it  i«  CVi«x\\^ 
I  **  tieed  1    but  I   ahoxA^  \iwt^\^ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB*S  TRBABUn. 


know  him.  Why,  Charlie, 
where  is  that  frank,  happy 
?mile  you  always  carry? 
What  has  happened  to  you  ?'* 
"  Oh,  it  has  cost  me  that  too, 
has  it?  I  was  just  saying  it 
did  not  pay.  Well,  I  am  very 
much  ashamed,  hut  come  this 
way  and  I'll  tell  you  all  ahout 
it." 

They  turned  down  a  quiet 
cross  street,  and  Charlie  took 
out  a  nice  pear  from  his  pock- 
et, and  placing  it  in  the  hand 
of  his  companion  said  : — 

*'  There  I  have  been  getting 
that  pear  and  I  have  paid  too 
dear  for  it.  It  is  a  bad  bar- 
gain." 

"  Why,  Charlie,  that  is  a 
real  Bartlett,  worth  about 
threepence.  What  did  you  pay 
forit?'» 

*'  Indeed,  I  paid  no  money 
at  all,  but  I  paid  what  is  worth 
far  more.  I  wonder  I  never 
thought  of  it  in  that  light  be- 
fore, but  we  boys  don't  often 
have  threepence  that  we  can 
afford  to  spend  for  a  pear,  and 
then,  besides,  they  all  think  it 
is  something  'cute  to  rob 
Goldie,  that  is  the  fruit-man 
just  around  on  the  avenue 
there.  He  keeps  a  great  deal 
of  fruit  out  in  front,  but  there 
is  always  some  one  on  the 
look-out,  and  the  boys  gener- 
ally get  caught  if  they  try  to 
pick  up  any  of  it." 

•*  But  I  did  not  think  that 
yon  would  stoop  to  such  a 
ttiek  as  that,  Charlie." 

Charlie's  cheek  crimsoned 
with  shame. 

"  I  never  did  betoie,  svt,^' 
70 


said  he,  "  snd  I  did 
of  doing  it  now  ti 
passing  this  momin 
that  no  one  weig  on 
out.  I  had  often  ' 
one  of  these  pears, ) 
picked  it  up  and  pu 
my  pocket ;  but 
mean  and  thief-lil 
got  to  the  comer  ai 
back  to  see  if  an^ 

• 

after  me -yes,  aft 
stealing — that  I  juE 
my  mind  that  it  d( 
Why,  sir,  I  have  lo 
respect,   I   have    l 
laws  of  God  and 
parents  would  be  gr 
it,  and  all  my  fne 
.  care  most  about  wo 
me  if  they  knew  it, : 
say,  it  makes  a  di 
my  looks  already. 
I'd  work  days  and 
gain  all  I  have  lost. 
I  was  just  thinkii 
met  you,  that   se^ 
work  would  bring 
enough  to  buy  eve 
pears,  and  here  I 
one  pear,  which  I  ^ 
to  go  into  a  comer 
choke  it  down  at  tb 
just  made  up  my  n 
doesn't  pay." 

"But,  Charlie, 
that  most  persons 
sider  it  only  a  trifli 

"  Just  ihe  reu 
should  not  pay  so  i 
then.  I  don't  kno 
of  money  that  woul* 
to  sell  my  good  ni 
peace  of  mind, 
would  I  part  with 


THS  BABBAXH  8CH0X«1B*B  TBEJkAUBY. 


t  back  to  give  Mr  \  take  what  does  not  beIoD){  to 
pear,  and  think  my-  I  me,  I  shall  remembor  that '  it 
'  rid  of  it.    And  if  I  doesn't  pay.'  "S,   S.  Adco- 
tempted  again  to  '  cate. 


i  WiBth  in  ^casun. 


3  too  bad,  I  declare, 
[  cannot  learn  this 
esson ;  and,  be- 
ddes,  Mr  How  has 
speak  to  me  in  the 
es."  Willie  Amot 
great  passion ;  he 
Ijatin  Delectus  im- 
roBs  the  desks,  and, 
<  face  in  his  hands, 
sep  back  the  bom- 
that  would  come. 
e,  it  was  his  first 
;  school,  and  he  had 
t  half  so  pleasant  as 
he  should, 
there  is  Willie  ory- 
•ose  he  wants  to  go 
lis  mother,'*  cried 
is,  a  rude,  nnf eel- 
id  better  make  a 
of  pocket- handker- 
med  in  another, 
ily  flashed  an  angry 
tm,  but  deigned  no 
last  the  boys  went 
)  playgroond,  and 
left  alone.  He  laid 
ng  temples  on  the 
1  sobbed  aloud, 
mamma,  I  do  want 
idly,  I  am  all  alone 
have  no  one  to  tell 
be  good." 
ou  let  me  be  jour 


friend  and  advise  you,  Willie '/" 
said  a  gentle  voice,  and  ahund 
was  laid  softlv  on  the  little 
boy's  shoulder. 

*'  My  friend  !  oh  no,  Duncan, 
you  are  to'j  big  for  that,  and 
I  am  such  a  very  little 
boy." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  hid 
new  friend,  kindly  sitting 
down,  and  drawing  the  child 
towards  him.  *'  Come  now, 
tell  me  what  it  is  that  troubles 
you.'* 

*•  It's  every  thing,"  ex- 
claimed Willie,  sorrowfully. 
"  I  am  BO  miserable  here  all 
alone,  and  Mr  How  is  so 
angry  because  I  did  not  know 
this  lesson  ;  and — and — I  hate 
him,  and  the  boys,  and  the 
place."  Willie  was  getting 
angry  again. 

"  Hush,  hush,  Willie,"  said 
Duncan,  softly.  He  waited  a 
minute  until  Arnot  grew 
calmer,  and  then  continued,  in 
a  low  tone,  '*  Willie,  you  love 
your  mother  ?  ** 

*'  Oh  yes,  yes,  indeed  I  do, 
more  than  any  one  in  the 
world." 

**  Then  I  am  sure  you  will 
try  to  do  oery  thing  to  please 
her.  Do  you  think  she  would 
like  to  see  you  nov  J" 

11 


I  • 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB'S  TBEABUET. 


"  No,"  mnrmnred  Willie  in 
a  low  voice. 

**  Then,  will  you  not  try  to 
be  good  for  her  sake  ?  »* 

"  But  I  am  so  miserable, 
and  nobody  cares  for  me  here." 

"  Dear  Willie,  you  surely 
forget ;  for  you  know  there  is 
a  verse  in  the  Bible  that  says 
that  the  very  hairs  of  our 
heads  are  all  numbered,  and 
that  God,  who  takes  care  of 
the  sparrows,  will  much  more 
take  care  of  us.  You  believe 
this?" 

*'  Yes,  oh  yes,  and  it  is 
just  what  mamma  would  have 
said,"  and  Willie  smiled 
through  his  tears,  and  clung 
closer  to  his  friend. 

*'  Shall  we  pray,  dear 
Arnot,  that  God  will  be  with 
you  and  take  care  of  you?" 
And  the  two  boys  knelt  and 
prayed,  whilst  angels  hovered 
near  and  wafted  their  prayers 
on  high;  and  who  shall  say 
that  they  were  unaccepted  at 
the  throne  of  grace  ?  When 
they  arose,  Duncan  said, 
"  And  you  don't  hate  Mr  How 
and  the  boys  now  ?" 

**  Not  at  all,  you  have 
made  me  so  happy,  Duncan." 

It  would  be  hard  to  say 
whose  face  was  the  brighter 
at  that  moment,— Duncan's, 
with  the  pleasure  of  feeling 
that  he  had  assisted  a  little 
one  on  his  heavenly  way,  or 
Willie's,  mth  gratitude  for 
that  assistance.  Oh,  did  we 
but  know  the  happiness  which 
those  experience  who  thus 
endeavour  to  fulfil  our  Sav- 
iour's commandments,  suxeV^ 
72 


we  should  often  praj 
for  each  other. 

At  length  Dune 
**  Shall  we  try  an( 
this  difficult  lesson  i 

**Oh,ifyouwillb( 
cried  Arnot,  joyfull 

At  the  expiration 
hour  the  lesson  we 
perfectly. 

"  Thank  you  so 
very  much,**  said  Wi 
fally,  as  he  prepan 
his  companions  in 
ground. 

Duncan  smiled,  | 
little  fellow  kindly,  \ 
pered,  **  Youmay  aJi 
to  me  when  you  are 
if  you  like  ;  but  ya 
dearer  friend  Uian  J 
and  One  that  stick* 
than  a  brother ;"  an 
turned  to  his  own  sti 

Little  did  WiUie  i 
it  would  cost  his  frie 
hours*  extra  study  U 
for  his  lost  time — ye 
Duncan  felt  that  he 
repaid,  even  if  onl 
beaming  smile  of  Y 
much  more  then  by 
heavenly  Master! 
readers,  a  word  a 
season  how  good  is  it 
in  this  world  you 
meet  with  a  reward, 
certainly  you  will  ii 
and,  oh,  who  can  tel 
piness  of  those  who 
the  Good  Shepherd 
**  Inasmuch  as  ye  ha 
unto  one  of  the  leas 
my  brethren,  ye  hai 
unto  me?"— T^  < 
Friend* 


Inra  tje  6ast. 

FaieBtine,  ftud  of  Uk  iDoideDts 
Jed  nijselt  of  of  travel  there 
onnble  oppor-  estinK  to  the  little  rcBdcni  of 
Khich  oc-  this  MKgaziiie;  uid  I  gloilly 
ng  tlie  liuidx  o(  I  eontrihata  &  few  BketcbeB.  iu 
has  latply  b«en  '  the  hope  that  what  I  shall  tell 
ne  tliat  Boine  .  them  of  thut  hQ\j  «a>)L  V«Ka&- 
tha  gccaerj  ot '  ful   laud, 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAB  S  TBEABUBr. 


interest  in  the  narratives  of 
sacred  history  and  in  God's 
ancient  people.  The  Jews, 
alas !  are  now  dispersed  in 
every  land,  but  they  are  still 
a  distinct  people,  and  we  know 
that  God  will,  in  His  own  good 
time,  restore  them  to  what 
they  yet  regard  as  their  own 
land,  which  was  given  to 
Abraiiam  and  to  **  his  seed 
for  ever,*^ 

But  before  telling  you 
about  Palestine,  I  should  like 
to  let  you  have  a  glimpse  of 
Egypt.  Most  travellers  visit 
it  on  the  way  to  the  Holy 
Land,  by  which  alone  it  is 
surpassed  in  sacred  interest. 

Those  only  who  have  ex- 
perienced the  discomforts  of  a 
long  voyage  can  realize  our 
pleasure  on  arriving  at  Alex- 
andria, after  a  somewhat 
stormy  passage  of  nine  days 
from  Marseilles.  To  add  to 
our  enjoyment,  we  seemed 
almost  in  a  new  world.  As 
we  pulled  to  the  shore  we 
could  see  the  long  strings  of 
camels,  and  recognize  the 
picturesque  Oriental  costumes 
of  the  busy  crowds  assembled 
in  the  harbour.  Still,  the  as- 
pect of  Alexandria  is  not  en- 
tirely oriental,  as  there  are 
many  Europeans  settled  there. 
It  is  a  sort  of  link  between 
Europe  and  Asia.  Cairo, 
which  is  only  distant  seven 
hours  by  railway,  is  compar- 
atively free  from  the  European 
element ;  and  I  now  ask  you 
to  accompany  me  on  a  tour  of  , 
inspection  in  that  city.  \ 

86 


It  is  too  hot  1 
let  us  mount  ou 
These  handsomi 
little  animals— s 
from  the  poor  ill-r 
see  at  home — supp 
the  place  of  carriaj 
ai'e  always  numbe 
standing  round  1 
with  their  little 
Arabs,  waiting  t< 
We  immediately 
full  gallop,  with  ; 
or  Said  running  be 
ing  the  donkeys,  as 
in  Arabic,  to  clear 
— "  Make  way,  0  n 
theleft,Ogirl!"& 
cautions  there  is  n 
for  the  streets  of 
very  narrow— so  n 
in  some,  the  upper 
houses  on  the  op] 
touch. 

Now,  where  sha 
As  it  is  Friday — 
know  is  the  Ma 
Sabbath — I  think  ! 
you  to  one  of  the  ( 
Derwishes  or  Ma 
monks,  situated  on 
of  the  Nile,  a  sho 
from  Cairo.  On  e 
the  road  after  h 
city,  we  admire  th 
acacias  and  grace 
When  we  arrive  a' 
of  the  college  we 
off  our  shoes,  and  1 
at  the  entrance.  0 
we  find  ourselves 
room  paved  with  st 
centre  of  which 
twenty  derwishes  t 
a  circle.  Those  wit 


THE  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*B  TBXA8UBT. 


hevelled  aboat  their  shoulders 
are  PersiaDS.  They  are  all 
swaying  back  and  forward 
rapidly,  breathless,  and  gasp- 
ing, ''  Ilia  Allah !  Ilia  Allah  !" 
that  is,  '*  There  is  no  God 
but  God."  Their  excitement 
gets  greater  and  their  motions 
faster,  until  one  is  seized  with 
a  fit,  and,  staggering  about, 
dashes  his  head  against  the 
wall  of  the  room,  and  falls  in- 
sensible. Another  of  the  der- 
wishes  steps  forward  and  lays 
him  out  as  if  he  was  dead. 
During  the  time  he  lies  here 
he  is  supposed  to  have  a  vision. 
Bye  and  bye  he  recovers  and 
leaves  the  room.  Now  these 
are  the  holy  men  of  the 
Mahommedans,  and  this  is 
a  religious  ceremony.  You 
see  to  what  folly  and  degra- 
dation a  false  religion  leads 
its  victims. 

By  the  time  we  get  back  to 
the  city  the  sun  is  just  set- 
ting, and  we  shall  have  to 
hurry,  as  there  is  scarcely  any 
twilight  in  these  southern 
climes,  and  there  are  no  lamps 
in  the  streets.  As  we  pass 
the  bazaars  our  little  guides 
purchase  sugar  csme  and 
bread,  to  satisfy  their  hunger, 
for  it  is  Bamadan,  the  great 
Mahommedan  fast,  during 
which  the  followers  of  the 
false  prophet  must  neither  eat 


'  nor  drink  between  sunrise  and 
sunset.  Most  probably  the 
boy,  whose  special  charge 
your  donkey  is,  will  offer  you 
a  piece  of  sugar  cane,  and  you 
must  not  hurt  him  by  refusing. 
At  the  beginning  of  this  paper 
you  have  a  picture  of  some  of 
these  little  Egyptians,  taken 
from  a  photograph.  They  are 
bright  little  things,  with  beau- 
tiful expressive  eyes.  I  am 
afraid  they  do  not  always 
learn  good  from  their  contact 
with  our  countrymen.  I  read 
the  other  day  of  one  who  was 
reproved  for  using  profane 
language.  "  That  English, 
sir,"  he  replied,  evidently 
proud  of  his  acquirements  in 
that  language.  Oh,  should  we 
not  try  to  do  something  for 
the  enlightenment  of  Egypt, 
where  so  many  of  our  country- 
men go  in  pursuit  of  health, 
or  pass  through  on  their  way 
to  our  Indian  Empire  ?  This 
field  of  labour  is  at  present 
unoccupied  by  Scotland,  so  far 
as  Mahommedans  are  con- 
cei-ned.  Let  us  pray  that  the 
time  may  soon  come  when 
"  princes  shall  come  out  of 
Egypt,  and  Ethiopia  shall 
stretch  out  her  hands  unto 
God." 

In  my  next  paper  I  shall 
tell  you  something  about 
Joppa  and  Jerusalem. 

E.  E.  S. 


THE  SkBBkTB  8CH0IAB*S  TSXASOBT. 


HE  Report  of  the 
Committee  for  the 
Conyersion  of  the 
Jews  was  given  in  to  the 
General  Assembly,  by  Pro- 
fessor Mitchell,  the  conyener. 
"We  can  afford  room  for  only 
a  brief  summary  of  it : — 

Germany, — The  Rey.  Mr 
Sntter  continues  to  prosecute, 
mth  his  wonted  energy,  his 
labours  among  the  Jews  in 
Baden. 

Constantinople, — This  im- 
portant station  has,  in  the 
course  of  the  past  year,  been 
visited  by  several  ministers  of 
the  Church,  all  of  whom  have 
spoken  most  favourably  of  the 
openings  that  exist  at  it  for 
missionary  work,  and  of  the 
earnest,  devoted,  self-denying 
labours  of  Messrs  Christie  and 
Robertson,  who  have  been  ap- 
pointed to  occupy  it. 

SaUmica. — The  various  de- 
partments of  the  Mission 
work,  namely,  meetings  for 
conversation  and  prayer  with 
Jewish  inquirers,  services  in 
English  for  the  benefit  of 
British  rc^dents  and  sailors, 
and  schools  for  the  education  of 
Jewish  and  Greek  children, 
have  been  earned  on  at  this 
station  by  the  Rev.  P.  Crosbie 
and  Mr  Hofheinz. 

Cassandra. — Mr   and  Mrs 
Braendli  continue  to  occupy 
this  out-station  UBefully  and 
acceptably. 
88 


OUR  JEWISH  MISSION.  JlfoiMMtir .—Thls 

tion  has,  during  the 
been  under  the  chs 
and   Mrs    Stober, 
laboured  with  rare 
and  devotedness. 

Smyrna. — In 
last,  Mr  CouU  was 
turn  to  his  station, 
his  own  letters,  and 
mony  of  those  who 
ited  the  station  sii 
turn,  he  appears 
resumed  his  labouri 
thorough  manner. 

A  lexandria. — Tl 
the  Mission  at  tl 
has,  during  the 
been  carried  on  in 
its  departments  wit 
energy  and  succe 
Rev.  Mr  Yule  hai 
years  and  a-half ,  ^ 
ability  and  eames 
ness,  superintended 
Mission  work  at  tl 
The  Rev.  G.  Brow: 
November,  to  take 
the  boys'  school  in  J 
and  to  engage  in  tl 
visiting  among  th 
that  city  and  neig 
He  has  been  chiefl; 
in  re-organizing  tl 
and  already  an  m 
in  attendance  has  1 
— most  of  the  pup 
children  of  Jewis 
The  girls'  school, 
Miss  Ashley,  and  sn 
the  Glasgow  Ladie 
tion  with  the  assisti 
General     Assembl; 


HI  lAnUTB  B0HOLAB*8  TBBA8UBT. 


k  Beaion  of  an- 

»8perity.      The 

attendance  are 

number,  eight 

Jewesses,    as 

B,      thirty-two 

los,  and  the  rest 

The    fees   paid 

ig  the  past  six 

npwsrds     of 

-Messrs  Steiger 
lave  continued, 
sconragemcnts, 
their  labours 
&ter  part  of  the 
ley  had  opened 


eight  schools  under  native 
teachers,  in  addition  to  the 
two  held  in  their  own  houses, 
and  had  pr^ared  twenty-three 
candidates  for  baptism,  and 
were  cherishing  hopes  of  a 
bright  future  for  Abyssinia. 
Further  tidings  are  anxiously 
expected,  as  information  has 
reached  this  country  that  the 
missionary  agents  of  another 
Society  have  been  treated  with 
great  cruelty  by  the  king; 
and  there  is  reason  to  fear 
that  his  displeasure  may  have 
extended  to  all  the  Protestant 
missionaries  in  his  dominions. 


•■J-  J  t-  r  J-   r y  yy.r- 


|^0mlraii  ptssian. 


^     CONVERTS. 

urday,  the  7th 
lay,  two  youths 

the  Camathi 
B  left  their 
took  up  their 
lie  General  As- 
itution.  As  is 
^ases,  there  was 
n  among  the 
aste  people  of 
ind  the  court- 
[nstitution  was 

excited  crowd, 
ng  Monday  the 
younger  of  the 
le  assistance  of 
)ourt  to  procure 
his  son,  in  order 
it  exercise  pa- 
y  over  him. 
.  Forbes,  of  the 
tland's  Mission, 
stated  that  the 
^ittoo  Dammoo, 


had  been  a  pupil  in  the  Church 
of  Scotland's  Institution  for 
nearly  three  years ;  that  he  had 
privately  received  instruction 
in  Christian  truth  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  last  six 
months;  that  he  had  sought 
admission  to  the  Mission 
house  of  his  own  accord,  and 
had  given  as  his  reason  for 
quitting  his  father's  house,  that 
he  was  there  compelled  to 
practise  idolatry,  which  was 
contrary  to  his  conrictions  of 
duty ;  and  that  he  desired  to 
learn  more  of  Christianity, 
and  to  receive  baptism. 
Mr  Forbes  added,  that  Wittoo's 
parents,  and  other  relatives 
had  had  free  access  to  him, 
and  every  opportunity  of  per- 
suading him  to  return  to  his 
home ;  that  he  did  not  employ 
any  restraint  or  claim.  \^  ^tl- 
ercise  any  awUiont^  qn«  \liaft 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBASUBt. 


youth,  bnt  merely  received  him 
as  a  guest. 

It  was  alleged  that  Wittoo 
was  between  fourteen  and 
fifteen  years  of  age;  but  at 
last  it  was  established  that 
his  age  was  fifteen  years  and 
seven  months.  It  therefore 
remained  for  the  judge  to  de- 
termine whether  the  circum- 
stance, that  Wittoo  had  not 
completed  his  sixteenth  year 
(the  age  of  majority  in  Hindoo 
law),  entitled  the  father  to 
claim  his  custody,  and  to  re- 
quest the  Court  to  make  an 
order  for  him  to  be  given  into 
his  charge,  by  force  if  neces- 
sary. Against  a  finding  to  that 
effect,  Mr  Connon,  on  behalf 
^of  the  youth,  made  an  eloquent 
and  impressive  appeal  to  his 
Lordship. 

Sir  Joseph  Amould,  in 
giving  judgment,  said,  that 
according  to  English  law  the 
age  of  majoiity  was  fixed  at 
twenty- one,  and  the  age  of 
discretion  at  fourteen ;  that 
in  India,  the  age  of  majority 
was  sixteen,  and  that  at  which 
the  responsibility  for  crime 
commenced,  was  twelve,  thus 
recognizing  the  greater  pre- 
cocity of  Indian  youths.  He 
therefore  should  order  that 
Wittoo  Dummoo  be  allowed 
to  choose  the  place  of  his 
domicile.  Sir  Joseph  then 
asked  the  question,  '*  Do  you 
desire  to  reside  with  the  Rev. 
Mr  Forbes,  or  your  father?" 
when  he  distinctly  expressed 
a  desire  to  stay  with  Mr 
Forbes.  The  learned  judge 
then  said  he  would,  lot  \i\% 
90 


own  satisfaction,  i 
Wittoo  did  not  dio( 
with  his  father.  'SS 
plied  that  he  desired 
more  of  Christianity, 
his  parents  would  : 
him  to  become  a  Ch 

On  the  following ' 
evening,  the  two  yo 
returning    from    a 
excursion    to   the   J 
Elephanta,    with   fc 
converts  and  Mr  Fo 
when  they  arrived 
gate   of  the   Institi 
uncle  of  Sumboo  N 
other  youth,  came  t 
and,  assisted  by  two 
seized    upon    him. 
was  also  seized ;  an 
them  were  beaten  an 
along  the  road  ;  the 
the   assailants  bein( 
nap    them,    and   en 
away  from  the   Mis 
mises      to    their 
Happily  the  youths  h 
on  the  spot,  who  s 
sisted ;    and  great 
due   to  Mr   Forbes 
Poyntz,  who,  with  t 
two   constables,  put 
sailants    to    flight, 
the  two  Afghans  piisc 
having  been  brought 
magistrate  next  day, 
fined  forty  shillings  < 

We  earnestly  • 
these  two  young  dis 
the  sympathy  of  oui 
and  ask  their  pra; 
those  persecuted  one 
guided  and  strengtl 
the  Spirit  of  God, 
they  mav  be  enable 
\ie%%  ^  ^Qod  confeai 


THB  RABBAXR  IWWOTiAB'S  TBBASUBT. 


devoted  foUowen 
«ed  Lord. 

or  ANOTHEB  3CI8- 
BIONABT. 

dl  band  of  miasion- 
trs  in  the  Ponjaab, 
oed  another  eevere 
he  Bey.  Isidor 
1  has  been  mnr- 
ne  of  his  own  ser- 
Bom  in  Pmssian 
f  Jewish  parents, 
year  1828,  he  was 
flee  from  his  native 
nseqnence  of  being 
in  some  political 
while  attending 
le  landed  in  New 
endless  lad  of  nine- 
of  age,  and  began 
a  pedlar.  While 
lis  mode  of  life,  he 
Presbyterian  min- 
proposed  to  him  to 
of  the  American 
After  finishing  his 
-  the  4ninistry,  he 
I  services  to  the 
m  Board  of  Foreign 
About  the  same 
fer  of  a  professor- 
lade  to  him,  but  he 
he  more  laborious 
mying  work  of  the 
isionary. 

ed  for  India  in 
ing  to  have  the 
of  seeing  his 
his  way ;  but  he 
I  this  pleasure  by 
f  Prussia,  and  by 
of  his  parents,  who 
see  him  in  conse- 
his  having  become 


Mr  Loewenthal  went  to 
Peshawnr  in  1857,  to  begin 
preparation  for  the  great  work 
of  his  life,  the  translation  of 
the  New  Testament  into 
Pushtoo,  the  language  of  the 
Afghans. 

It  appears  that  he  was 
accustomed  to  rise  in  the 
night  and  walk  in  his  garden 
when  unable  to  sleep.  Late 
on  the  night  previous  to  his 
death,  he  wrote  in  his  diary 
that  he  had  got  a  curious  head- 
ache. About  tbree  o'clock  on 
the  following  morning,  the 
report  of  a  gun  was  heard ; 
but  as  this  is  not  an  un fre- 
quent occurrence,  it  excited  no 
feelings  of  uneasiness  or 
alarm.  Mr  LoewenthaFs 
groom,  however,  went  out, 
met  the  chowke^lar  (private 
watchman),  and  asked  why 
he  had  fired.  In  reply,  the 
man  said  his  gun  had  gone  off 
accidentally  ;  but  the  ser^'aut, 
on  proceeding  towards  the 
house,  found  his  master  lying 
on  the  ground,  bleeding. 

The  chowkedar  immediately 
fled  from  Peshawar,  but  was 
caught  eight  miles  from  the 
city.  When  examined,  lie 
aflirmed  that  he  mistook  his 
master  for  a  thief,  and  shot 
him  accordingly.  This  ap- 
pears very  strange,  for  it  Wiw  a 
bright  moonlight  night,  and 
he  was  so  near  that  the  pow- 
der blackened  the  face  of  hi») 
victim.  He  has  been  tried, 
and  acquitted  of  the  crime  of 
miirder,  but  sentenced  to  two 
years'  imprisonment  for 
••  causing  death." 


THE  SABBATH  SOHOLAB'S  TBBASVIX. 


''lot  afraU  to  ii^." 


JY  young  readers,  did 
you  ever  think  of 
having  to  die  ? 
You  may  be  young 
and  strong,  beloved  of  your 
friends,  and  revelling  in  the 
enjoyments  with  which  this 
beautiful  world  of  ours  is 
filled  ;  you  may  be  free  from 
care,  and  full  of  bright  hopes 
of  a  long  and  happy  life ;  but 
were  you  to  be  told  that  all 
this  would  speedily  come  to 
an  end,  that  the  colour  would 
fade  from  your  cheeks,  and 
the  strength  leave  your  bones, 
that  you  would  soon  be  laid  on 
a  sick-bed,  and  have  weari- 
some  days  and  sleepless 
nights,  that  you  would  have 
to  bid  farewell  to  your  dear 
friends,  and  look  for  the  last 
time  on  your  loved  acquaint- 
ances, and  at  last  find  your- 
selves face  to  face  with  the 
king  of  terrors — would  you  be 
afraid? 

If  you  will  listen  to  me  for 
a  little,  I  will  tell  you  of  one 
who  had  to  come  through  all 
this,  and  yet  was  not  afraid. 

In  a  little  village  a  few 
miles  from  Paisley  lived  Eliza- 
beth   L .     She   was   the 

daughter  of  respectable  pa- 
rents, and  had  received  a  good 
education ;  she  was  naturally 
clever,  and  of  a  quiet  and  re- 
served disposition.  In  the 
village  where  she  lived  was  a 
Sabbath  school,  at  which  she 
was  a  regular  attender ;  she 
WAS  in  Uie  superintendent's 
claaSf  and  for  four  years  nCTet 
92 


was  absent  a  sing 
Her  teacher  was  wc 
with  her,  as  she  alv 
say  her  lessons  con 
conducted  herself  in 
ing  manner ;  so  mu< 
when,  last  autumn, 
little  girls  became  vt 
at  his  request,  bee 
teacher,  and  perfc 
duties  in  a  way  ' 
gained  for  her  theii 
endeared  her  in  thei 

She  was  just  bui 
a  fine  young  woman 
consumption — that 
sidious  disease — ha 
her  for  its  prey.  H« 
gradually  left  her, 
the  middle  of  June 
the  woods  near  her '. 
decked  in  all  their 
beauty,  when  the  1 
sang  merrily  an 
branches,  and  when 
wore  its  brightest  gai 
laid  down  on  the 
which  she  never  wai 

The  disease  n< 
rapid  progress,  and 
after  this,  one  Sal 
last  she  spent  on  ea 
she  saw  her  sorrow! 
and  weeping  sister 
around  her,  she  1 
'•  not  to  grieve  fori 
was  not  afraid  to  ( 

On  the  following 
day  evening  her  teac 
her;  she  was  oppr< 
weakness  ;  as  he  wt 
leave  he  said  to  he: 
\  beth,  I  am  afraid 


VHX  BJlBBATB  8CH0IJJt*B  TBBABUBT. 


lid  to  die,  tou  are 
Jems."    With    her 

strength  she  re- 
I,  yes  !*'  These  were 
>rds,  and  next  mom- 
irit  went  to  Jesns. 
Dg  friends,  yon  see 
ly  this  dying  girl 
•ntemplate  death, 
bled  her  to  do  so? 
[irayed  to  Jesns  to 
'  sins  ;  she  believed 
)le  to  saye ;  she  re- 
)  preoions  promises, 
I  to  His  divine  help, 
son  from  her  story. 

Sunday  scholars? 
example;  give  heed 
ir  teachers  tell  yon ; 
in  yonr  attendance ; 
to  repeat  yonr  les- 

1,  strive  to  learn  of 
is  the  Way,  the 
)  life — love  Him 
or  hearts,  and  pray 
.t  He  would  pardon 


I  ^onr  many  sins,  and  lead  yon 
I  m  the  patns  of  righteousness ; 
I  in  a  word,  strive  to  become 
;  His  children.  Then  if  God  in 
I  His  providence  should  lay  yon 
.  down  on  a  dying  bed,  you  will 
I  be  enabled  to  say,  "  yon  are 
not  afraid  to  die,  yon  are  going 
to  Jesus.** 

And  how  comforting  will 
this  be  to  your  friends,  when, 
in  after  years,  they  think  that 
you  have  gone  to  glory,  liave 
left  all  pains,  sorrows,  and 
tears,  for  ever  behind,  and  are 
now  members  of  that  bright 
multitude  of  the  redeemed 
who  surround  the  throne  of 
God,  for  ever  singing  their 
Saviour's  praise. 

"Oh,  may  He  who,  meek  and  lowly. 
Trod  himself  this  vale  of  wo«. 

Make  ns  His,  and  make  ns  holy, 
Oaard  and  guide  ns  while  wc  go. 

"  Soon  we  part ; — it  may  be  never. 
Never  here,  to  meet  again  ; 

Oh.  to  meet  in  heaven  for  ever ! 
Oh,  the  crown  of  life  to  gain ! " 


'ttr  ^abbatll  ^r^flols. 


submitting  to  the 
jreneral  Assembly 
he  Annual  Report 
)f  the  Committee 
Schools,  Mr  Toung, 
said,  in  substance, 
—There  are  1773 
ight  on  an  average 

each  year.  There  j 
5   scholars  on   the 

these  there  is  an  I 
ndance  of  110,062.  j 
778  ministers  who  I 
iperintend  Sabbath  | 
i  142  who  do  not.  / 


607  parishes  have  libraries, 
and  389  have  none,  while  there 
are  76  parishes  from  which 
reports  have  not  been  received, 
and  there  are  33  where  there 
are  no  Sabbath  schools.  £60, 
178.  Id.  had  been  received  of 
contributions,  and  £552,  26. 
3d.  had  been  collected  in  tlie 
flchools  for  missionary  pur- 
poses. These  returns  shew 
an  increase  for  last  year  of  23 
schools,  25  teachers,  55  minis- 
ters who  Bupermleii^  V\i^ 
schools,  8  librarieB,  an^  £!%> 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAB's  TBEASUKT. 


3s.  on  the  sum  collected  for 
missionary  purposes. 

There  are  two  very  import- 
ant points  to  which  Mr  Young 
referred.  "  The  first  is  the 
amount  collected  in  schools 
for  missionary  purposes.  It 
has  heen  already  pointed  out 
that  this  year  the  amount  re- 
ported is  considerahly  in  excess 
of  last  year's  return ;  but  I 
think  that  such  contributions 
represent  a  value  which  the 
future  only  can  disclose.  To 
speak  of  missionary  enterprise 
to  children,  to  interest  them  in 
it,  to  teach  them  to  give  even 
the  smallest  sum  for  its  sup- 
port, this  is  nothing  less  than 
preparing  the  soil,  and  sowing 
the  seed  of  a  future  and 
glorious  harvest,  which  others 
may  reap  with  gratitude  and 
joy.when  our  places  are  vacant, 
and  our  voices  are  heard  no 
more  on  earth.  The  sums 
collected  for  our  Schemes  are 
already  considerable,  no  one 
can  speak  of  them  without 
respect ;  but  I  believe  that 
liberality  of  this  kind  is  yet 
in  its  infancy,  and  I  could 
imagine  many  hereafter 
accounting  for  the  superior 
resources  of  the  Church  of 
their  times,  by  saying,  '  We 
learned  to  give  in  the  Sabbath 
school ;  we  got  the  habit  there 
— it  grew  with  our  growth.' 

"  The  other  point  on  which 
I  wish  to  touch,  is  the  deep 
debt  of  gratitude  which  the 
Church  owes  to  her  Sab- 
bath school  teachers — twelve 
thousand  every  Sabbath  en- 
gaged in  this  work  oi  i8al\i 
H 


and  labour  of  lore. 
Assembly  will  say 
to  encourage  1 
strengthen  their  ht 
Assembly  has  withj 
great  power  of  i 
the  services  of  t] 
silently  and  an< 
but  most  surely, 
deep  the  foundatif 
future  strength  ai 
n^ ss ;  and  I  trust 
forth  to-day  that  o 
does  justice  to  the  i 
value  of  the  service 
by  her  Sabbath  sd 
ers,  and  regards 
Christian  agency  wi 
admiration  and  gra 

THE  SUNDAY  SCHO< 

In  looking  aro 
i  society,  it  is  imp 
I  help  being  struck 
existence  of  numerc 
tions  admirably  ca 
promote  the  meni 
and  spiritual  w 
humanity.  Amo 
there  is  not  one  ' 
stronger  claim  on 
tian  philanthropist 
day  schools.  Edu( 
ducted  on  the  prii 
in  the  spirit  of  th< 
essential  to  the 
prosperity  of  a  na 
Sunday  schools  & 
these  heavenly  prin 
embody  their  spiri 
grand  text-book  is 
volume ;  and  their 
cient  teachers  a 
Christians.  Th€ 
planted  in  weakne 
\  \ivwciA.  ot  B^ohett  Rai 


THB  BABBATH  SC^OLAB'S  TBEABUBT. 


. I 

itf  of  Gloucester,  and  water-  Union  done  ?  It  has  done  | 
4  bj  his  tears,  has  stmek  its  so  mnch  that  the  half  cannot 
ootg  deep  into  our  soil,  raised  he  told.  It  may  suffice  to  say  | 
titop  to  heaven,  and  spread  .  that  now  it  has  a  glorious 
li  KtDches  from  Eorope  to  band  of  four  hundred  tlion-  ■ 
Jii,  Africa,  America,  and  the  sand  teachers,  and  three  mil-  I 
dudfl  of  the  Sea.  '  lions  of  scholarH     *'  Not  unto 

The  Sunday  School  Union  I  us,  0  Lord,  not  unto  us,  but 
•8  fomied  in  Surrey  chapel  '  unto  Thine  own  name  be  all 
^od-rooms,  on  13th  July  the  glory  1"  —  Ahriilged  jnnii 
)03.     And    what   has    the    the  Chrhtian  World. 


A  8£AB1I>E  SKETCH  FBOM  REAL  LIFE. 

HR  women  weep,  the  children  wail, 
Scarce  knowing  why ; 
And  men  are  watching  (fixed  and  pale) 
A  fishing -smack,  with  dripping  sail, 
Just  rolling  nigb. 

Tbe  surf  leaps  bigb  upon  the  shore 

In  cruel  sport; 
Tbe  wild  winds  in  tbe  caverns  roar, 
llie  weary  fishers  pi}'  tbe  oar, 

To  gain  tbe  porU 

l*he  breakers  crash,  the  seagulls  screech  ; 

No  hope !    No  hope ! 
How  is  that  fragile  boat  to  reach 
Across  such  surf  the  shingly  beach  ? 

O  for  a  rope  ! 

Tis  vain.    The  boldest  and  the  best 

Turn  back  in  fear : 
I'he  strongest  swimmer  dare  not  breast 
Those  breakers  with  tbe  foamy  crest, 

For  life  is  dear. 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR  8  TBEASUBT. 


Tery  interesiing  to  study.  Al- 
though it  is  tibe  privilege  of 
few  to  visit  it,  still  every 
Christian  ought  to  know  the 
local  features  of  that  land 
where  the  most  momentous 
events  of  the  world'3  history 
have  occurred. 

We  sailed  from  Alexandria 
early  on  the  morning  of  the 
11th  of  March.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  we  were  awoke 
with  the  intelligence  that  Joppa 
was  in  sight,  and  almost  im- 
mediately we  dropped  anchor. 
Vessels  are  obliged  to  anchor 
at  a  considerable  distance  from 
the  shore,  as  there  is  no  har- 
bour and  the  coast  is  rocky. 
We  all  hurried  on  deck, 
and  landed  about  nine  a.m. 
After  satisfying  the  custom- 
house authorities  that  there 
was  nothing  contraband  among 
our  luggage,  we  proceeded  to 
the  little  inn  dignified  by  the 
name  of  the  "Palestine  Hotel." 
After  breakfast,  a  gentleman 
to  whom  we  had  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction, called  and  invited 
us  to  visit  his  country  house, 
situated  about  two  miles  from 
Joppa.  As  we  found  we  could 
not  get  horses  for  our  jour- 
ney to  Jerusalem  till  the  mor- 
row, we  availed  ourselves  of 
his  kindness.  The  road  to 
his  house  lay  mostly  between 
hedges  of  immense  cactuses,  or 
prickly  pears,  over  which  hung 
branches  of  orange  trees,  rich- 
ly laden  with  fruit,  and  which 
filled  the  air  with  their  deli-  ; 
cious  perfume.  There  is  a  j 
saccession  of  bloB&oms  on  the 
orange  tree,  so  that  it  is  co^ete^  ' 
98 


at  the   same  time 
golden  fruit  and  sn< 

In  the  aftemooi 
took  us  to  his  oran 
and  from  it  we  fii 
mountains  of  Jude 
the  distance,  and 
with  the  rays  of 
sun.  It  was  a  beai 
and  one  suggesti^ 
memories. 

In  the  cool  of  1 
we  walked  back 
The  frogs  were  < 
loud  concert,  so  1( 
were  obliged  to  raia 
to  hear  each  othe: 
could  never  have  ii 
little  creatures  W( 
make  so  much  n 
sun  had  set  when  i 
to  the  town,  and  tb 
was  lighting  up  the 
of  the  Mediterran 
stream  of  silver. 

Joppa  is  a  prei 
a    distance ;      but. 
Eastern    towns,    L 
of  its   beauty   on 
quaintance.     Its   i 
narrow,  steep,  and  ] 
the  houses  mean, 
tion  is,  however,  b« 
is   built  on   a   litt 
hill ;  and,  as   seen 
sea,   the   houses   f 
one  on  the  top  of 
picturesque    confut 
the  west,  the  walls 
by  the  tideless  wa 
Mediterranean.      A 
tance  off  from  the 
some  large  flat  ro 
on  a  level  vrith  the 
over  which  the  wav< 


THX  SABBATH  8CH0LAB*8  TKBASVBY. 

i  18. — Thii  moniuig  ,  of  early  spriiig,  and  breathing 
awoke  about  half-  ont  fragrance  from  iunumer- 
;  and,  expecting  an  able  lovely  flowers, 
ft,  at  once  got  ap.  ^  Towards  evening  we  paesed 
preparations  for  oar  '  Amwiui.  This  was  l)«lieved 
}  were  not  completed  by  St  Jerome,  and  otlifra  of 
i  ten  o*clock.  Saddles  the  early  GhriHtianH,  tu  Ik*  the 
6  unpacked,  and  the  Emmaus  to  wliich  JeMUR  ac* 
mitore  to  be  divided  companied  the  two  disci plen 
;he  baggage  males,  on  the  day  of  His  resarrectiou. 
he  interval  we  went  This  view  is  Hupported  by  l>r 
le  traditional  site  of  Hobinson  and  other  Biblical 
le  of  Simon  the  tan-  '  scholars.  If  it  be  Emmaus. 
grees  with  the  Scrip-  the  disciples  must  have  walked 
ative  in  being  by  the  ,  more  than  forty  milen  tliat 
fmd  probably  is  the  day,  for  Amwiis  is  diritant 
At  all  events,  it  more  than  twenty  miles  from 
!  far  distant,  and  the  Jerusalem. 
:h  here  met  our  eyes  Shortly  after  passing  Am- 
same  that  St  Peter  was  we  saw  our  tents  pleas- 
e  seen  when  he  went  antly  pitched  in  Wiidy  All. 
house-top  to  pray.  We  were  somewhat  fatigue<l, 
3t  everything  was  and  glad  of  the  prospect  of  re- 
nd, mounted   on    a    pose. 

t  spirited  little  Arab,         March  14. — This  morning 

d   along  the   shady  ^  the  first  objects  which  met  my 

£it   surround    Joppa.     eyes  were  some  lovely  scarlet 

passed    the    little  '  anemones  growing  aiuoiig  the 

Lydda  on  the  left,     softgreentnrf  which  formed  the 

iped    for    lunch    at    car]>et    of    our    tent.     These 

This  has  not  been     pretty  flowers  have  b(.>en  some- 

with    any    ancient  ;  what  fancifully  called  by  the 

>ugh  monkish  tradi-  ■  pilgrims  "  the  blood  drops  of 

ittempted  to  identify     Christ."    At  tliis  season  the 

rimathea.     Its  chief  •  ground  is  covere<l  with  them, 

is     a     beautiful  |  and  indeed  I  never  saw  any 

9wer,    of    Saracenic  ,  place  to  be  compared  to  the 

re,   which  seems  to  i  Holy  Land  for  the  variety  and 

1  the   minaret  of   a  !  beauty  of  its  wild  flowers. 

hich  once  stood  here,  |      The      tents      were       Koon 

now    disappeared.  I  taken   down,  and    then   there 

ded  to  the  top  by  a  '  was  nothing  but   a   heap   of 

inding  staircase,  and  .  ashes  to  mark  the  spot  which 

rded  by  an  extensive     had  been  our  home   for  the 

he  plain  of  Sharon,     night.     How  apt  is  the  Scrip- 

with  the  fresh  green     tnre  iUostraUon — '^  'U.\^^  «%<& 


\ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBSASUVT. 


Ir  departed,  and  removed  from 
me  as  a  shepherd's  tent." 

Our  ride  to-daj  presented  a 
marked  contrast  to  that  of  yes- 
terday. Yesterday  it  was 
across  the  rich  and  fertile  plain 
of  Sharon—- to-day  through 
the  wild  and  harren  glens  and 
mountains  of  Jndea.  The 
path  was  steep  and  rocky,  and 
in  some  places  was  lost  alto- 
gether in  the  dried-np  bed  of  a 
winter  torrent.  The  only  local- 
ity of  Bible  note  we  passed 
was  Eirjath-jearim,  abont 
nine  miles  from  Jerusalem. 

Abont  two  o'clock  we  came 
in  sight  of  the  Holy  City.  I 
was  disappointed  at  first  view, 
as  I  think  every  one  who  ap- 
proaches from  the  Jaffa  side 
mnst  be.  Little  is  to  be  seen, 
except  a  portion  of  the  city 
wall,  and  a  large  factory-look- 
ing building,  which  has  re- 
cently been  erected  for  the  ac- 


commodation of  I 
grims. 

We  found  our  tc 
not  far  from  the  Jf 
the  top  of  a  rising 
near  Uie  eity  wall, 
slope  extended  is 
beyond  that  a  groi 
olives.  Behind  xu 
campment  of  Otton 
Owing,  I  snppose, 
bnb  caused  by  our 
situation  did  not ; 
first,  and  we  thong 
ing  to  a  more  r< 
but  when  everythii 
again,  it  was  indei 
Looking  eastward 
the  eity,  we  eon 
mount  of  Olives. 

Shortly  after  on 
set  out  i&  walk  roi 
But  I  must  defer 
about  our  walks  ii 
to  another  paper. 


Cpiugfi  CfeiUren, 


^HINESE  parents  are 
verv  fond  of  their 
children.  You  may 
often  see  a  father 
nursing  his  little  son  after  the 
day's  work  is  done,  and  a 
mother  bending  over  her  babe. 
Is  she  kissing  it  ?  No.  She 
is  smelling  its  little  face,  and 
whispering,  in  loving  tones, 
"  It  is  very  fragrant ;  " — "  it  is 
very  sweet."  In  some  parts 
of  Ohina,  sad  to  say,  little 
girls  are  sometimes  put  to 
death  soon  after  they  are  bom. 
Tbi9  ia  generally  because  VheVi 
100 


Sarents  are  so  po 
hey  shall  not  be 
food  for  their  1 
This  is  no  excuse 
wicked  action, 
people  do  not  kn 
they  would  not  n 
babies,  but  trust  I 
vide  for  them.  Mi 
hear  of  God  ;  and 
hear  of  Him,  ma 
Him,  trust  Him, 
Himl 

There    are    fei 
missionaries  in  < 
\  \!i[iet«   %.Tft   very, 


THB  BABB4TH  BOHOULB'B  TBXABUBT. 


m.  More  heathen 
ina  than   in    any 

inese  children  are 
and  dever.  In 
le  mission  schools 
» be  found  children 
only  good  scholars, 
>ad,  and  write,  and 
,  but  who  have  been 
God  to  loTe  and 

of  little  girls  was 
,  "Were  you  ture 

to-morrow  what 
do  to-day?**  One 
[  would  be  getting 
ready."  This  the 
ink  a  very  import- 
*n.  Another  girl 
"  I  would  believe 
Q  Jesus.**  Dear 
t  a  happy  resolu- 

the  same  school 
x\  asked  for  some 
le  home.  She  par- 
isked  for  a  book 
fe  of  the  Saviour,** 


a  good  book  about  the  things 
that  Christ  said,  and  did,  and 
suffered  here  on  earth.  Why 
did  she  want  this  book  ?  Not 
only  to  read  it  for  her  own 
pleasure  and  profit.  *'  I  want,*' 
she  said,  "  to  read  to  my 
mother  about  Jesus,  for  I 
want  her  to  believe  in  Jesus, 
that  she  may  go  to  heaven 
with  me.** 

Bow  delightful  it  is  to  think 
that  mission  schools  thus  send 
the  gospel,  by  the  children,  to 
many  heathen  homes.  May 
God  bless  and  prosper  the 
work  of  the  children  into 
whose  hearts  He  puts  it  to  care 
for  the  good  of  others,  and  to 
hope  to  meet  them  in  heaven. 
God  bless  and  prosper  you  in 
your  missionary  work — you 
who  pray,  and  collect,  and 
subscribe,  and  work,  to  help  to 
make  known  the  way  to  heaven 
to  those  who  *'  sit  in  darkness 
and  in  the  shadow  of  death.** 
— C.  M.  J,  Instructor, 


-^   .•■v^N '■*.'•     'V^^ 


ilesscb  are  t^eg  tl^at  Pun^^r. 


!  night  a  poor  Jew 
lad  been  waiting 
mtside  the  tent  of 
\  missionary  in 
[e  had  come  to  beg 
the  Hebrew  Testa- 
•  night  was  dark, 
;>ur  was  very  late; 
Kff  Jew  waited  on, 
hungering  lor  the 
e. 
saionary  presented 


him  with  a  Hebrew  Gospel. 
Joy  filled  the  Jew*s  heart,  and 
he  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  mis- 
sionary, and  first  kissed  his 
boots,  and  then  the  precious 
volume. 

On  going  away  he  clasped 
his  treasure  to  his  breast,  and, 
with  his  eyes  raised  to  heaven, 
blessed  the  missionary  who 
had  given  him  the  book. 


THE  SABBATH  8CHOLAB*8  TBEASUBT. 


n 


emanam.' 


MISSION  UNION. 


/ 


.T  will,  we  dare  say,  be 
pleasing  to  not  a 
few  of  our  readers, 
to  know  what  is 
doing  to  aid  the  keeping  np 
of  the  remembrance  of  our 
late  mission  friend,  Mr  Ross ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  and 
especially,  to  advance  the  great 
work  to  which  he  devoted 
his  life.  Episcopalians  and 
Independents,  United  Presby- 
terians and  Baptists,  mem- 
bers of  the  Free  Choroh  as 
well  as  members  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland,  are  most  kindly 
contributing  for  these  pur- 
poses. During  his  toils,  their 
donations  were  most  encour- 
aging to  the  missionary  and 
his  people ;  bo  now,  it  is 
hoped,  that  good  may  be  done 
by  erecting  a  chaste  tablet  at 
Likatlong,  where  his  body  re- 
poses ;  and  also  by  engraving  a 
suitable  inscription  on  a  tomb- 
stone at  Abemyte,*  where 
the  dust  of  his  parents  sleeps  ; 
and  presenting  small  useful 
gifts  to  the  chiefs,  the 
teachers,  and  scholars,  at  his 
late  stations ;  and  also  a  me- 
morial to  his  grieving  widow, 
who,  for  fifteen  years,  was  the 
partner  of  his  labours,  his 
perils,  and  successes.  All 
will  tend,  we  trust,  to  stir  up 
others,  male  and  female,  to 
engage  in  this  work.  It  may 
also  induce  some  who  have 

*  A  lovely  spot  on  the  Braes  of 
the  Cane  of  Gowrle,  Perlhahiie. 
102 


'  not  themselves  gos 
'  heathen    lands,    ti 
'  "  hewers       of      w 
I  drawers  of  water," 
'  and  ^'  to  do  what  in 
'  to  stiengthen  the  1 
I  encourage  the  hear! 
who,   in   foreign   c 
'  bearing  the  burdei 
I  of  the  day.'  "     How 
'  it  is   to   find  that 
;  indeed   an  under  ( 
true  mission  feelini, 
out   the   Churches, 
!  burst  forth,  and  spr< 
I  its   blissful   influen 
ever  any  outlet  occm 
,  greatly  cheered  was 
'  by  the   evidence  of 
I  abundantly  shewn  tc 
I  his  family,  and  char^ 
and  again  did  he, ' 
gratitude,  write  to  l 
''  Most  of  these  kin 
I  know  not  except  1 
and   I   don't  expect 
manv  of  them  *  till  < 
How  beautifully  his  e 
harmonized  with  th; 
not  long  ago  was  exp 
his 

LONGING  DESIB 

*'  I  hope  that  the  d 
far  distant  when  th< 
Established^  Free, 
Presbyterian^  Inde 
&c.,  shall  be  swalloii 
the  Universal  Gh 
Christ.  Then  its  1 
thousand  missionari 
proclaim  throogho 
whole  habitable  gl< 
,  free  and  full  salvatio 


ram  sabbath  bcroi4Ab'8  tbeasuikt. 


I.' "    Who  does  ,  of    Abernyte,    the    following 

I 


t 


ioscription  be  eDgraved.  It 
was  in  this  parish,  when  a 
stripling,  he  first  embraced 
the  offers  of  salvation  ;  and 
he   conld  sav  of  the  blessed 


'  wildemew  afar 
lonely-  voioe ; 
numts  of  the  roek 
ta  n&e  rejoioe ; 

ode,  i  Jesna,  like   Thomas  of  old, 

I  soand  Hie  prmiee ;  I  *»  My  Lord,  and    my  God/' 
Uned  with  one  ao-    ^^    henceforth    he    burned 

with  the  desire  to  tell  to 
others  the  wonders  of  redeem- 
ing love,  and  gloried  in 
nothing   but    the    cross    of 


'S  glories  raise. 
[ONUUEKT. 

»8ed  that  on  the 


the  choroh-yard  j  Christ. 

SAOBSD  TO  THX  If  BMOBT  OF 

And  of  their  Eldest  Bon, 

REVEREND    WILLIAM    ROSS, 

3XKT  or  iHE  London  Missionabt  Socikty, 

Hr  GENTBAL  SOUTH  APBIOA. 

PiX)UOH  Boy,  first  class ; — then  a  Joiner. — At 
lirty-eight,  after  a  full  course  at  College,  he  was 
IiNisTEB,  and  entered  the  foreign  service.^  Ere 
one  tools  with  which  he  did  Uie  finest  of  the 

the  parish  church  of  Enrol,  he  used  at  Tauno, 

of  the  prince  of  darkness,  in  building  a  temple 

Gtodf  and  filled  it  with  worshippers    He  laboured 

ding  perils  in  the  vast  desert  for  nearly  twenty- 

vithout  rest;  and  died  at  Likatlono.  July  30, 

regretted  by  the  BecuanaSj^  the  Society,  and 
issions.     He  left  731  church  members,  85  in- 
salyation,  9  day  schools,  with  370  scholars  and 
ow  teachers. 
)  we,  0  Godf  not  unto  me,  but  unto  Thy  naincy 


jiyingsione,  the  celebrated  African  explorer,  was  ordained 
e,  November  20, 1840,  in  Albion  Chapel,  London.  Thoy 
iled  together  for  the  same  mission-field,  the  head  qnar- 
coo,  now  named  Knraman,  the  station  of  the  distinguished 
lary  Rev.  Robert  Moffat, 
aas,  pronounced  Betch\M.na9,  their  language  is  Secuaiia 

don  from  the  115th  Psalm  was  frequently  employed  by 
bad  special  occasion  to  do  so,  after  describing  the  groat 
the  Gospel  message  among  the  heathen ;  as  also  at  the 
people  at  his  varioos  stations,  he  was  so  ofleti  andm  %u 
vilcged  to  witoeBB.  M.,Y.Y, 


THB  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBBABinKT. 


©l^je  Hastib  lUtocrs. 


N  the  green  bank  of 
a  rivolet  sat  a  rosy 
child.  Her  lap  was 
filled  with  flowers, 
and  a  garland  of  rose-buds 
was  twined  round  her  head. 
Her  face  was  radiant  as  the 
sunshine  that  fell  upon  it,  and 
her  voice  was  as  clear  as  that 
of  the  birds  which  warbled  at 
her  side. 

The  little  stream  went  sing- 
ing on,  and  with  every  gush  of 
its  music  the  child  lifted  a 
flower  in  its  ■  dimpled  hand, 
and  with  a  merry  laugh  threw 
it  upon  its  surface.  In  her 
glee  she  forgot  that  her  trea- 
sures were  growing  less,  and 
with  the  swift  motion  of  child- 
hood she  flung  them  to  the 
sparkling  tide  until  eveiy  bud 
and  blossom  had  disappeared. 
Then,  seeing  her  loss,  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and  burst- 
ing into  tears,  called  aloud  to 
the  stream,  **  Bring  me  back 
my  flowers  I " 

But  the  stream  danced 
along  regardless  of  her  tears, 
and  as  it  bore  the  blooming 


burden  away,  her  wordi 
back  in  a  taunting  echo  i 
its  reedy  margin;  and 
after,  amid  the  wailing  < 
breeze  and  the  fitful  biu 
childish  grief,  was  heai 
fruitless  cry,  **  Bring  m* 
my  flowers  !'* 

Merry  maiden,  who  a 
wasting  the  precious  nu 
so  bountifully  bestowei 
thee,  see  in  the  thoug 
impulsive  child  an  eml 
thyself.  Each  momen 
perfumed  flower.  L 
fragrance  be  dispeni 
blessings  to  all  aroun 
and  ascend  as  sweet  i 
to  its  beneficent  Giver, 
when  thou  hast  cai 
flung  them  from  thei 
seest  them  receding 
swift  waters  of  time 
wilt  cry  in  tones 
sorrowful  than  those 
weeping  child,  '*  Brii 
back  my  flowers!*'  A 
only  answer  will  be  c 
from  the  shadowy 
'*  Bring  me  back  my  flc 
I  — S.  S.  Advocate, 


I 


«(rb  is  tW. 


^AID  a  little  child  to  me, 

"  If  God  lives  so  Terr  far 
Up  above  the  highest  heaven. 
Far  "beyond  \]he  bT\^Vil«at.  «tar^ 


"How  on  He  be  Jwayi  neir  me, 
CtrinK  ftr  me  night  and  diy  7 

Are  Tou  *ure  Ihal  God  cin  bear  me 
Whenl  lift  iry  hMda  and  pr»y?" 

And  I  BDineitd,  ''  God  bu  ipoken 
Holy  wordi  that  we  receive; 

And  He  Biveena  msoy*  token 
To  perinade  us  (o  believe. 

"  Like  the  lun  that  ihines  around  iu, 
UakinK  M  tbing*  bright  and  Tair 

II  y  Ibe  way  aide.  In  tne  chambrr, 
God  t>  with  ne  evorywhere. 

"  Tniat  Him,  darlinR,  oben  Ha  telln  yoi 
He  is  neaih}-  Oay  and  night) 

UiataiK*  cannot  part  you  from  Him, 
Uarkneu  hides  not — 'God  ii  light.' 


THE  SABBATH  SGHOLAB*S  TBEA8TJBT. 


"laitt 


ff 


fHILE  Luther  was 
looking  out  of  his 
window  one  sum- 
mer evening,  he 
saw,  on  a  tree  at  hand,  a  little 
bird,  making  his  brief  and  easy 
arrangement  for  a  night's  rest. 
"  Look,"  said  he,  **  how 
that  little  fellow  preaches  faith 
to  us  all !  He  takes  hold  of 
his  twig,  puts  his  head  under 
his  wing,  and  goes  to  sleep, 
*  leaving  God  to  think  for 
him.'  " 

Carrie's  father  and  uncle 
had  gone  one  afternoon  to  a 
part  of  the  farm  with  the 
horses  and  waggon,  a  mile  or 
more  distant  from  home. 
Before  it  was  time  for  them  to 
return,  the  horses  came  home 
alone.  Alarmed  lest  some 
accident  had  befallen  them, 
Carrie's  mother  asked  her  if 
she  would  be  willing  to  go  all 
that  long  distance  alone,  and 
tell  them  of  the  horses'  return? 
It  was  then  nearly  dark  ;  but 
she  had  often  ridden  there 
with  her  father,  and  knew 
that  he  would  return  with  her, 
so  she  was  not  afraid  to  go ; 
but  when  she  reached  the 
place,  her  father  and  uncle 
were  nowhere  to  be  found. 
Carrie  waited  and  looked  a 
while,  then  climbed  into  the 
waggon,  and  seated  herself 
quietly  till  they  should  come. 
It  was  a  long  time  for  a  little 
girl  of  seven  years  to  wait  in 
a  strange  place — in  the  dark, 
too ;  and  you  may  imagiiiQ\.Vie 
106 


relief  and  joy  sh 
at  last  she  heard 
voice,  calling,  "  C 
am  here,  father : 
waggon,"  she  cije 
soon  in  her  father 
inquired,  *'  Weri 
afraid,  my  child, 
alone  so  long  ? 
much,"  she  repli 
knew  you  would 
here ;  and  I  thou^ 
to  find  you,  perha 
get  lost."  "  But. 
feither,  "  we  have 
another  way  to  1 
horses,  and  how  d 
I  should  come  bac 
'*  Oh,  I  knew  ,y( 
*'  And  were  yoB 
lonesome  here,  in 
*'  I  was  a  little  ;  b 
mother  wished  m 
and  I  could  nc 
alone,  it  was  darl 
God  would  take 
till  you  came ;  an* 
my  hymns  and  i 
and  then  you  cam< 
Precious  child! 
dence  in  her  fati 
misplaced.  He  hi 
ceived  her,  and  s 
would  come.  Ab 
so  with  you  ?  Hs 
a  kind,  heavenly  '. 
does  for  you  far  m 
earthly  father  can 
you  not  trust  Him 
Carrie  did  her  eart 
Will  you  not  obe 
mand.  and  await 
with  the  same  chil 
— GVildte-a'^  Frie\ 


IHS  UBBUB  BCHOLUa'B  TBEABOST. 


tartUng  aitb  ^nggtsttbr  (S)l^ottsl^t. 


the    present    day,  , 
aany  persons   have  I 
photographs  of  their 
persons  taken,  ' 

y  present  to  their  I 

Bat  if  it  were  I 
»  haxe  an  album  of  j 
IB  taken  of  our  sin- 

reyealing  all  the 
bhey  had  each  done, 
11  words  they  had 
m,  and  all  the  e^il 
ley  had  ever  formed, 
ons  and  terrible 
ich  pictures  be ! 
Y  one  dare  to  give 
sonl-photograph  to 
creatnre  ?  I  think 
ar  less  to  a  friend, 
bings  and  thoughts 
eek  to  conceal  from 
d   even  from   onr- 

all  known  to  God. 
1  and  faithful  soul- 
is  of  all,  for  He  is 
cognizant  of    every 

of  our  evil  deeds, 

and  imaginations. 

possible  that  we 

;ly  carry  about  with 

te   photographs   of 

souls.  At  least  ' 
cts  seem  to  shew  I 
is  left  engraven  on  ' 


the  tablets  of  our  own  mem- 
ories (though  we  are  not  con- 
scious of  it)  full  records  of 
our  whole  past  lives.  It  Ih 
only  thus,  perhaps,  that 
physicians  can  explain  various 
phenomena;  as,  for  example, 
the  striking  fact  that  occasion- 
ally, when  personH  have  been 
placed  in  circumstances  of 
mortal  danger — such  as  when 
almost  drowned — a  swift  and 
startling  vision  of  the  whole 
of  their  past  life  has  suddenly 
sprung  up,  and  deeds  long 
forgotten  have  stood  forward 
in  appalling  distinctness. 
May  not,  at  death,  the  un- 
saved soul  carry  off  with  it 
this  record  ?  What  can  wipe 
out  this  fearful  photograph 
and  record  of  one's  unconver- 
ted existence?  Nothing  ex- 
cept "the  blood  of  Christ;" 
but  that  blood  *'  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin."  It  alone  can 
blot  and  wash  out  the  record 
of  our  iniquities,  and  prepare 
the  soul,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
to  receive  *'  the  image  of  His 
BoTL.*^^-' Abridged  and  ado})- 
ted  from  on  Address  hy 
Professor  J.  Y.  Simpson. 


m.  f  V.'^/*V-/^       V    "N      "». 


(iis|  ©estimons  lo  €|ristianitg. 

'E    months   ago    a    a  friend,  who  kept  a  small  shop 
lew    was     passing  '  in  the  town.    After  talking  a 
through  the  atreeta  ,  while,  they  sat  Aotjh  \,o  Tft«A. 
>f  Jaffa,  and  be  met        As    some  3ewB   ipSkS^e^  '^i'S 

101 


\ 


THE  SABBATH  SCHOLAR'S  TBEABUBY. 


and  saw  them  reading,  they        Some  of    the   other    Jews 
stopped,   and  oame  into  the  j  Joined  in  this  cry. 
shop  to  know  what  they  were  !      They  said  that  a  Jew  ought 
reading.  I  not  to  read  any  paH  of  the  Old 

"  Moses  and  the  prophets,"  Testament  bat  those  which 
said  the  Jew.  are  used  in  their  services,  and 

*'  What!"  cried  one  of  these  that  Jews  who  read  much  of 
men,  "  do  yoa  intend  to  be-  ;  the  Bible  Were  sure  to  become 
come  a  Christian  ?"  Christians. 

*'  We  are  reading  our  own  i  What  a  testimony  was  this 
Bible,  and  not  the  Christian's  <  to  the  truth  of  Gluristianity. 
Bible."  ■■  Jews  who  did  not  themselyes 


"  Yes,"   replied    the    man, 
and   this    always    leads    to 


believe,  were  obliged  to  own 
that  Christianity  is  to  be  found 


Christianity."  !  in  Moses  and  the  Prophets. 


ap»g  ftttg. 


NCLE-deeo  in  grass  and  clover, 
Lucv  lightly  trips  along, 
With  her  merry  heart  all  sunshine, 
And  her  jo3'oas  heart  all  song. 

Plucking  buttercups  and  daisies, 
Violets  sweet  and  vetcbes  gay, 

With  the  wiM  bees  round  her  humming. 
All  along  the  pleasant  way. 

Now  a  little  gate  she  opens. 

And,  with  happiness  complete, 

Sees  her  pet-lamb  lightly  bounding. 
O'er  the  long  grass  to  her  teet. 

Now  she  weaves  sweet  garlands  for  him. 
Lovely  chains  of  blossoms  Ongnt, 

With  her  gentle  favourite  frisking, 
Kound  in  innocent  delight. 

When  they  both  were  tired  of  playmti. 

"  Come,"  said  Lucy,    Met  us  rest;" 
A»  she  drew  from  out  her  bosom, 

One  dear  Book,  of  all  the  ae^t 

llappv,  kindly-hearted  Lucv . 

Well  might  she  be  blithe  and  gay. 
For  she  loved  one  Lamb,  most  pr«ci«jii8. 

Who  had  borne  tier  ^vaa  a.H(aY, 


^v^t^wvs.'^i. 


Goav  >nrw»B." — Jkul 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

The  Good  Shepherd  (Frontispiece.) 
«'  Little  Samuel  Praying  "  (TitlePage.) 

Introductory  Address  iii 

*<  Suffer  Little  Children,"  (vignette.) 

Sermon  I.  from  the  above  text 7 

Introduction  of  Christianity  into  England 14 

Scripture  Botany— Rose  of  Sharon  (with  cut) ^ 18 

Sermon  II. — Children  coming  to  Jesus »•  19 

Scripture  Natural  History— The  Doye  (with  cut) 24 

Sacred  Biography— Abel,  the  First  Martyr  27 

Christian  Missions — Madagascar SO 

Second   Introduction   of  Christianity   into   Great  Britain. — Gregory'* 

Mission 81 

Good  Sayings  32 

Jesus,  and  the  Woman  of  Samaria  (with  cut) -  84' 

Sermon  III. — The  Bosom  of  Jesus  » 85 

Sacred  Zoology.— The  Horse  (with  cut)  .*.........  43 

Christian  Missions. — Madagascar,  Part  II 44 

Third  Period  of  the  Diffusion  of  Christianity  in  Britain.— Culdeea »  46 

Poetic  Gems.— The  Holy  Child's  Desire 47 

The  Love  of  God ».......».»  48 

Good  Sayings ...»  48 

The  Lame  Man  Healed  at  the  Beautifttl  Gate  of  the  Temple  (with  cut).*.  60 

Sermon  lY. — Leaning  on  Jesus'  Bosom ..»...» » .•  81 

Sacred  Zoology.— The  White  Ass  (with  cut) 56 

Christian  Mbsions.— Martyrdom  in  Madagascar— Rasalama -  58 

Anecdotes.— Strong  Faith  of  a  Pious  Madagascar  Young  Convert 59 

Remarkable  Instances  of  Conversion » «••  60 

Remarkable  Interposition  of  Providence 61 

Raphael's  Cartoons  k < • 61 

Third  Period  of  the  Diffusion  of  Christianity  in  Britain.— Columba  and 

the  Culdees * » .•  -62 

Poetic  Gem.— The  Dying  Girl's  Address  to  her  Mother,  by  the  Rev. 

T.  Wallace » » 68 

Good  Saying » 64 

Paul  at  Athens  (with  eut) 66 

Sermon  V. — River  of  Salvation 67 

Scripture  Natural  History.— The  Palm  Tree  (with  eut) 74 

Ck>nver8ation  on  Creation ^ , ,».... .,...,.».,.,v.«.«   l'^ 

Poetic  Gem.— The  Fulneu  of /esut ^^ 

GoodSayiDgM , , »...,.«.«.•••••«    *^ 

Death  of  Ananias  (with  cut) ^*^ 


•  ••••••••• 


••••••«••■•••»••• 


VI  CONTENTS. 

ViSl 

Sermon  VI. — The  Streams,  Banks,  and  Walks  of  the  River  of  Salvation  81 

Sacred  Zoology.— Stag  or  Deer  {with  cut)  91 

Verbal  Illustration.— Sin  M 

Sacred  BoUny.— The  Lilies  of  the  Field H^ 

Paul  and  Barnabas  at  Lystra  {with  cut)  

Sermon  VII.— The  Young  Christian  Pilgrim 

Sacred  Zoology. — The  Eagle  {with  cut) „.. 

Names  of  Jesus  alphabetically  arranged m«m.»< 

Poetic  Gem.— The  Christian's  Graces,  and  their  exercise  in  the  PxoipMl  j 

of  Heaven 

Peter's  Confession,  and  the  Keys  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  {wUh  < 

Sermon  VIII.— The  Young  Christian  Pilgrim 

Sacred  Botany. — Grapes  {with  cut) 

Figurative  Illustrations  of  the  Bible,  in  Alphabetical  Order. 
Missionary  Facts. — Madagascar — New  Cbapel  at  Hong  Kong— Indkkl 

Orphans' 

Sacred  Zoology. — The  Peacock  {with  cut) 

Sermon  IX. — The  Church  the  City  of  the  Great  King mm.»mm*« 

Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  {without) 

Names  of  Jesus  alphabetically  arranged 

Events  of  the  Year  1848  

Missionary  Facts. — Satanic  Fetters — Pagan  Conjuror — The  P«gH| 

the  Christian  contrasted— Liberality  of  Samoaa  Children  •«.. 

Sacred  Zoology. — The  Ostrich  {with  cut) 

Sermon  X. — The  Church  the  Strong  City 

Elymas  struck  blind  {with  cut) „ 

Figurative  Illustrations  of  the  Bible,  in  Alphabetical  Otdwt., 
Missionary  Intelligence. — Alexander  Fletcher,  Native  Teacher  ia  ] 

Happy  Death  of  Little  Mary. — Her  Dying  Sayings 

Missionary  Facts. — India :  Conversion  of  Gooroo— South 

A  Christian  Samoan  Chief  victorious  in  Death 

Poetic  Gems. — ^The  Parent,  on  hearing  his  Child  Pn^ping.^.^, 

Select  Sentences 

Scripture  Natural  History. — The  Lion  {with  cut) 

Sermon  XI.— The  Church  the  Strong  City .» 

Sacred  Zoology. — ^The  Deer  {with  cut) .».......«i.M«M 

Names  and  Titles  of  Jesus  alphabetically  arranged ^.......^m 

The  Bible.— Remarkable  effect  of  the  eloquence  of  the  late 

Rogers,  of  Dedham,  Essex m».m>w 

Missionary  Intelligence. — ^Tornado ,»...r v,,»,., 

Review. — Rhymes  worth  remembering.  For  the  Young.  By  the 

of  "  Important  Truths  in  Simple  Verse." 

Wise  Saying 

Sermon  XII.— Danger  of  Despising  God's  Word ^^^-^  |[ 

Sacred  Zoology. — The  Hen  {with  cut) 

Figurative  Illustrations  of  the  Bible  alphabetically  arranged 

Two  Remarkable  Instances  of  Conversion 

Poetry «.. 


••«  eee  •«•  ee^e 


•  •ee  «•«••«• 


»•••••••••« 


82 

DEATH  OF  ANANIAS. 

Acts  V.  1 — 11. 

Whaz:  asssolMitt  thing  it  is  to  die !  Oh,  how  aff< 
to  die  la^epfBxed !  How'  awful  to  die  in  the»ve: 
of  comawfctiag  some  dreaidM  sin  !  We  have  hes 
swearers  d}rhi|^  whii»  hlisphenaring  ;  of  robhers^ 
committtng.  roi9lbery^ ;  a«dF>o£i  liars,  while  pouring 
falsehoods  froai  tbefr  Ispsv  Such  was  the  dei 
Ananiasi  aank  has  wife  Sapphira.  These  two 
among  tbe  eariiest  professors  of  Christianity  at 
salem,  after'  o«r  Lord  ascended  to  heaven.  The 
many  others,  sold  their  estates.  They  said  t 
Apostles  tlMt'  they  gave  them  the  T\'hole  priee. 
lied,  for  they  kept  back  a  considerable  part  • 
price.  Anamas  the  husband,  in  the  absence  > 
wife,  first,  told  the  lie.  The  vengeance  of  B 
instantly  struck  him  dead,  and  young  men  carric 
to  his  gravel  Let  each  of  us  pray,  "Lord,  press 
from  lying  UfK^!" 

AbottI' thMi  botirs  after,  his  wife' Sapphira  ei 
the  AiposliM^  She  kne^  not.  that  her  hosban 
dead.  Infiulnatecl^  wkiced  wymian,.  she  repeale 
same  lie;  LMtaatlyv  ske  wttS"  strtiefa  dead !  9 
downfall  the  Apoetlea'  fl^t.  Iht  young  ma 
buried  bur  hi»band  three  hcors  before  w^e  call 
They  oarried  Inr  ta ber grave,  andljwL  her  beo 
husteai.  Sad  aigbt !  Two  liars- struck  dead 
besiiAb  «ianfa  otber  ia  the  dmt,  and  senl'UBfnrepan 
the  world  of  spfnta^!  Besolire^  nr)r  young  friends^ 
strength  of  Divine  grace,  and  say, — 

"  Then  let  me  always  watch  my  lips, 
Lest  I  be  struck  to  death  and  hell ; 
Since  God  a  book  of  reck'ning  keeps. 
For  every  lie  that  children  tell  !"        A.  F. 


8d 


SERMON  VI. 

THE   STREAM^   BANKS,    AND   WALKS   OF   THE   RIYEB 

OF   SALYATION. 

A  river  thai  cotddnot  he  passed  over.'* — Ezek.  xlvii.  5, 

Th^ie  are  some  rivers  in  America  so  wide  as 
toy  approach  the  sea,  that  when  you  stand  upon  the 
mk&  yon  cannot  see  across.  But  the  largest  rivers 
1  earth  may  and  can  he  crossed  over.  The  prophet 
zekiel  saw  a  vision  of  the  river  of  salvation,  574 
sers-  hefore  Christ  appeared  on  earth,  to  finish  salva- 
BD  on  the  cross.  Oh,  he  was  surprised  when  he 
oked  upon  the  river !  and  he  had  good  reason  to  be 
irprised.  He  wondered,  I  have  no  doubt,  at  the 
yBtal  clearness  and  brightness  of  the  river.  He 
ondered  that  even  little  children  could  safely  wade 
r  walk  in  the  river  at  its  lovely  brink.  He  wondered 
;  the  depth  of  the  river :  it  could  not  be  fathomed. 
Ce  wondered  at  the  width,  or  breadth  of  the  river  :  it 
mid  not  be  passed  over.  My  beloved  young  friends, 
my  such  holy  wonder  fill  your  youthful  hearts  ! 
By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  I  will  now 
leak  to  you  of  the  streams  and  banks  of  this  river  ; 
id  also  of  the  beautiful  walks  on  the  side  of  this  river, 
fcieh  holy  children  frequent,  where  they  converse  with 
BBOs,  and  where  they  think  of  heaven. 
L  The  streams  of  the  river  of  salvation. 
In  many  parts  of  the  earth,  rivers  divide  themselves 
rto  various  streams.  Have  you  not  all  heard  of  the 
ver  Nile,  which  runs  through  the  whole  of  Egypt, 
om  south  to  north,  where  it  pours  its  waters  into  the 
[editerranean  Sea?  It  is  there  divided  into  seven 
reams.  In  Isaiah  xi.  15,  it  is  prophesied  that  God 
iall  smite  this  river  in  its  "  seven  streams,  arvd  ia«J^e 
len  go  over  drjr-shod."  As  to  the  river  oi  aaVjaX^oTv^ 
e  are  informed  that  it  hns  streams^  Psalm  "x\\\.  ^» 

G  2 


84  SERMON. 

"  There  is  a  river,  the  streams  whereof  shall  make  glad 
the  city  of  God."  This  river  has  many  streams  d 
mercy.     Now  I  invite  your  attention  to  seven, 

1st.  There  is  the  stream  of  converting  mercy.    Th^ 
moment  a  child  drinks  by  faith  of  this  stream  be  is 
verted  to  Christ.     His  very  nature  is  changed; 
hard  heart  is  softened  ;  his  vile,  polluted  heart  is 
tified,  washed,  purified,  and  made  holy.     His  h 
which  was  full  of  enmity,  full  of  hatred  against  God 
Christ,  is  filled  with  love.  Beloved  children,  may  you 
persuaded  to  drink  of  this  stream  of  converting  mercj- 
— then  you  shall  feel  this  change,  this  blessed  chi 

2d.  There  is  the  stream  o^ justifying  mercy,   Ev( 
little  child  who  is  saved  is  justified.     Justification 
part  of  salvation ;  therefore  it  is  said,  (Rom.  viii. 
"  It  is  God  that  justifieth."  Do  you  know  what  it  i» 
be  justified  ?     Do  you  wish  to  know  ?     I  hope  you 
Then  I  will  tell  you.  When  God  justifies  a  little  cl 
he  does  two  things  :  he  pardons  his  sins  ;  that  is 
first :    he  receives  him  into  his  favour  ;  that  is 
second.     He  does  this  on  account  of  the  righteou 
of  Christ ;  that  is,  on  account  of  what  Jesus  be 
did,  and  suffered  for  the  salvation  of  poor  sin 
May  God  enable  you  to  drink  of  the  stream  of  j 
fying  mercy !     Then  your  sins  will  be  forgiven, 
God  will  look  upon  you  with  smiles  of  love. 

3d.  There  is  the  stream  of  adopting  mercy, 
is  it  to  be  adopted  ?     It  is  to  be  taken  out  of  the  fi 
of  Satan,  and  to  be  put  into  the  family  of  God. 
children,  have  you  no  wish  to  be  put  into  this  bl 
family  ?    Ask  Jesus,  pray  to  Jesus,  and  he  will 
you  into  his  family,  and  make  you  his  own  sons, 
own  daughters.     When  you  are  made  the  children 
God,  how  sweetly  you  will  sing, — 

"  Behold,  what  wondrous  grace 

The  Father  hath  bestow'd 
On  simieTa  ot  Sk  nioxVaX  t^ris^, 

To  mskke  t^iieiii  wma  ol  Q^^V* 


SERMON*  85 

4th.  There  is  the  stream  of  sanctifying  mercy.  You 
lave  often  heard  that  sin  pollutes  the  soul.  A  sinful 
oul  is  a  filthy  souL  When  a  dear  child  drinks  of  the 
tream  of  sanctifjing  mercy,  he  is  made  clean,  and  holy, 
md  lovely.  Believe  it,  true  holiness  is  true  loveliness, 
ilessed  loveliness,  neither  disease  nor  death  shall 
jestroy  it !  How  short  the  loveliness  of  youth  ! — but 
be  loveliness  of  holiness  will  last  for  ever ;  yes,  for 
ver !  Oh,  plead,  oh,  pray  for  the  fulfilment  of  this 
•Tomise,  (Ezek.  xxxvi.  25,)  ''I  will  sprinkle  clean 
rater  upon  you,  and  you  shall  be  clean." 

5th.  There  is  the  stream  of  healing  mercy.  Do  you 
now,  my  young  friends,  that  your  souls  are  diseased  ? 
assure  you,  they  are.  And  the  diseases  of  your  souls 
lever  can  be  healed  unless  you  drink  of  the  stream  of 
lealing  mercy.  Pride,  unbelief,  enmity,  and  careless- 
less,  are  the  diseases  of  the  soul.  There  are  many 
acre  beside.  If  you  drink  of  the  stream  of  healing 
oercy,  every  disease  will  be  cured.  When  the  thief 
Irinks  of  this  stream,  he  becomes  honest.  When  the 
iar  drinks  of  it,  he  speaks  the  truth.  When  the  swearer 
Irinks  of  it,  he  fears  God.  Oh,  what  a  stream ! — 
vhat  a  wondrous  stream !  This  stream  flows  from 
Tesus.     Then  let  us  sing, — 

"  'Tis  He  forgives  thy  sins; 

'Tis  He  relieves  thy  pain ; 
'Tis  He  that  heals  thy  sicknesses. 

And  makes  thee  young  again." 

6th.  There  is  the  stream  of  cowfortmg  mercy. 
Some  of  you  know  little  or  nothing  of  sorrow,  and 
therefore  you  may  see  no  need  of  this  stream  of  com- 
forting mercy.  You  are  in  a  great  mistake  :  your 
3ay  of  sorrow,  of  mourning,  and  grief,  may  be  near  at 
band  ;  then,  nothing  can  comfort  you  but  this  stream. 
But  some  of  you,  now,  may  be  sorrowful.  Perhaps 
y^ou  are  poor,  or  diseased  ;  or  you  may  have  lately 
lest  a  father  or  a  mother,  a  brother  or  a  sislex.  "Dci^^ 
^jijr  o£  these  make  you  sad,  or  sorrowful?     0\v,  c»o\x\fc 


S6  SERMON. 

and  drink  of  the  stream  of  comforting  mercy  !  l!%ea 
joy  will  fill  your  soul.  Oh,  taste  and  see  that  Grodil' 
good !  Jesus  will  be  to  you  better  than  a  iitiiet^  al 
mother,  a  sister,  or  a  brother ! 

7th.  There  is  the  stream  of  fflorift/ing  merc^.  Hi. 
holy  Apostle  John  saw  a  vision  of  that  stream  k 
heaven.  It  is  clear  as  crystal ;  and  on  either  nde-rf 
it  grows  the  Tree  of  Life.  Even  here,  that  strefll' 
flows.  Often,  dying  children  who  love  Jesus  drink  df 
it,  and  they  feel  as  if  they  saw  the  glory  of  heaven,  li; 
if  they  tasted  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  as  if  they  heinl 
the  songs  of  heaven.  Oh,  come,  my  beloved  yonf 
friends,  and  drink  of  the  waters  of  salvation  !  As  (BqH^ 
as  you  drink  by  faith,  you  will  be  able  to  sing  like  te 
holy  dying  children  of  whom  I  have  been  speakiog ;  ^ 

"  The  hill  of  Sion  yields 

A  thousand  sacred  sweets, 
Before  we  reach  the  heavenly  fields. 

Or  walk  the  golden  streets." 

n.  We  proceed  to  speak  of  the  banks  of  the  river  (f 
salvation.  Observe  the  name  of  the  banks,  and  the 
description  of  the  banks. 

Ist.  Observe  the  name  of  the  banks.  The  name  of 
one  is  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  name  of  the  other  ii 
the  New  Testament.  You  know  it  is  from  the  banks  yoi 
have  the  best  view  of  a  river.  From  the  tops  of  hills, 
at  a  great  distance,  you  may  see  the  river  flcwing 
through  green  meadows  and  rich  plains.  But  it  ii 
from  the  banks  you  have  the  best  view  of  the  cryetll 
waters  of  the  river,  as  it  flows  along.  So  it  is  wthlli 
river  of  salvation.  You  have  the  best  and  ckinit 
view  of  the  river  of  salvation,  and  of  the  streams  41 
mercy,  from  the  sacred  banks  of  the  Old  and  Nwf 
Testament.  May  the  Holy  Spirit  enable  you  to  knot, 
and  love,  and  frequent  these  banks  ! 

2d.  I  will  now  give  you  some  description  of  theic 
banks. 
They  are  green.    TVval  la,  \\ve^  «t^  l«^^  ^so^^Nssi^* 


87 

^nie  ordin&noes  are  oidled,  in  Psa.  zxiii.  2,  ^'  green  pas- 
teres,"  because  ti^ej  are  spiritually  fresh  and  lovelj. 
for  the  same  reason,  the  Old  and  New  Testaments 
deserve  to  be  called  the  green  banks  of  the  river  of 
salvation. 

They  are  fruitful.  There  you  may  see  vast  num- 
ibers  of  fruitful  trees  bearing  tbe  richest  fruits.  There 
are  trees  of  doctrines,  trees  of  promises,  and  trees  of 
.precepts.  Blessed  are  those  children  who  love  these 
Ifcrees,  and  who  pluck  the  ^licious  fruit. 

These  banks  are  most  pleasant.  The  air  is  fra- 
.grant,  cooling,  and  refreshing.  Holy  children,  who  are 
^nnd  on  these  banks,  show  in  their  countenances  the 
lovely  smiles  of  joy  and  peace. 

These  banks  are  lofty.  From  the  noble  heights,  and 
"with  the  telescope  of  faith  in  your  hand,  you  can  catch 
A  view  of  heaven. 

These  banks  are  ^'ich.     Yes,  rich  with  springs  of 

comfort,  and  rich  with  mines  of  wisdom. 

**  Tib  a  broad  land  of  wealth  unknown. 
Where  springs  of  life  arise  ; 
Seeds  of  immortal  bliss  are  sown. 
And  hidden  glory  lies."* 

III.  I  wish  now  to  give  you  some  account  of  the 
"WALKS  which  are  seen  on  the  banks  of  the  river  of 
salvation.  Jesus  the  King  has  made  all  these  walks ; 
and  in  these  walks,  holy  children  often  meet  King 
Jesus.     The  walks  are  the  ordinances  of  religion. 

1st.  One  of  these  walks  is,  the  reading  of  the  word. 
Here  holy  children  take  their  morning  and  their  even- 
ing walk.     This  walk  is  most  profitable  and  pleasant. 

2d.  Prayer  is  another  walk.     In  this  walk,  holy 

children  speak  and  converse  with  God,  and  ask  from 

him  every  blessing  which  their  souls  need.     Blessed 

are  they  who  are  often  found  in  this  walk. 

"  By  prayer  they  learn  the  holy  fight; 
Prayer  makes  the  Christian's  armour  bright ; 
And  Butan  trembles  when  he  dees 
Tbejroungeat  saint  upon  his  knees." 


88  SERMON. 

3d.  Praise  is  another  walk.  What  sweet  songs  lie 
sung  in  this  walk  !  Here,  small  eompanies  of  saiati 
are  heard  singing  the  songs  of  Zion.  And  also  laip 
assemblies  of  saints  are  heard,  raising  their  hallelujsip 
of  praise  to  the  throne  of  God. 

4th.  Meditation  is  another  walk.  There  young  saints 
are  generally  found  alone ;  by  themselves,  thinking  of 
salvation,  Christ,  and  heaven. 

5.  Self-examination  is  another  walk.  In  this  walk, 
the  young  Christian  asks  himself,  Do  I  love  Jesus? 
Have  I  the  marks  of  God's  children  ?  What  can  I  do 
for  my  Saviour,  who  has  done  so  much  for  me  ? 

6th.  Public  worship  is  another  walk.  Great  multi- 
tudes are  found  here.  In  this  walk  they  often  say,  "B 
is  good  to  be  here ;  it  is  the  house  of  God,  it  is  the 
gate  of  heaven." 

In  the  conclusion  : — I  call  on  you  affectionately 
to  frequent  these  paths.  They  are  "  wisdom's  ways." 
And  "  wisdom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  aH 
her  paths  are  peace."  There  are  seve7i  things  which 
make  these  walks  pleasant.  These  are  seven  strong 
reasons  why  you  should  walk  in  them. 

1st.  There  are  in  these  walks  pleasant  seats  for  young 
saints.  These  seats  or  arbours  are  the  promises.  The 
moment  you  sit  down,  you  will  find  yourselves  become 
lively,  strong,  and  cheerful. 

2d.  Here  avQfimit  trees  of  great  beauty  and  richnesSi 
These  trees  are  the  graces  of  the  Spirit.  Of  these, 
faith  and  love  are  peculiarly  noble,  fruitful,  and  lofty. 

3d.  Here  are  Jiowing  fountains,  sending  forth  streamB 
of  consolation,  peace,  and  joy.  These  flow  night  and 
day.     One  drop  lifts  the  soul  to  heaven. 

4th.  Here  are  refreshing  breezes.  These  are  the 
influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  May  you  know  and  love 
these  breezes ! 

5th.  Here  is  cheering  light.  Jesus,  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness,  ever  shines  on  those  blessed  walks, 
MaL  iv.  2. 


Bxaaxo  sooLOOT. 


89 


6tli.  Here  yon  meet  the  bat  of  rompany.  la  theae 
like  you  meet  with  Baints,  the  children  of  the  King, 
ere  you  meet  with  Jesus,  the  King  himselt  What 
I  bonoar,  to  walk  with  Christ  the  King ! 
7th.  Here,  there  is  tlie  tmeetetl  music.  How  joy- 
lly  holy  ctiiHren  sing  to  the  honour  of  Jesua  in 
ese  walks.     Come,  come  to  join  their  company,  and 

"  Jeeae  le  worthj  to  receivs 
Hoiioar  and  pinrer  diviiie. 
And  bleaaingiB  mora  tbon  we  <s*n  give. 
Be,  Lord,  for  ever  Uiine." — Amen.  A.  F. 


''"^'^'ifJWWMKP'    ,  i'/ 


90 
SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

STAG   OR   DEER. 

The  Hebrew  name  given  to  this  noble  animal  inlU 
Old  Testament,  is,  ^^l^,  ail,  and  it  signifies  protecU6% 
and  also,  a  horned  animal.  Deer,  in  the  science  J 
Zoology,  belong  to  the  genus  or  order  called  pecora; 
a  Latin  word  which  signifies  cattle.  Their  horns  are 
branchy  and  peculiarly  becoming.  They  are  at  first  soft, 
and  covered  with  downy  hair.  Afterwards,  they  become 
smooth  and  hard.  They  fall  off  yearly,  and  are  yearly 
renewed.  Horns  belong  only  to  the  males.  These 
comely  creatures  live  to  a  great  age,  are  timorous,  and 
swift.  In  their  rapid  course,  they  seem  as  if  they  were 
flying  on  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  kinds  of  this  numerooi 
family  of  God's  creatures,  namely,  the  Hart,  the  Bee* 
buck,  the  Rein- deer,  the  Elk,  the  Goat-deer,  the  Hone' 
deer,  the  Camelopardalis,  or  Giralfe,  &c.  The  Rein- 
deer is  an  inhabitant  of  Lapland,  jhhI>  other  northern 
countries  of  Europe.  It  is  to  the  Tyhicii  rs  invaluable. 
It  supplies  for  them  the  place  of  a  korse, a  cow,  a  goaty 
and  a  sheep. 

The  F'M&m  deer::iB  the  speeuBrarantioned  by  Mose^ 
in  Dent  xv.  ^:z  ^'fKe  iML  f»t  ti&e  Mlow-deer."  It 
is  a  nafive  of  €iflnK,tCleH%ajaBd,  nd  China.  Thf^ 
are  fovnd  in  great  Auni&nMseiin  therpsrks  and  domaini 
of  the  rich  landad  j09pKietaBB*«f  Ei^g^nd  and  Scotland. 
Vast  flocks  of  RiftV3«er,  taffrtbe  «ixe<of  considerablf 
grown  heifers,  adccn  the  splendid  moimtaixioas  foiesti 
of  the  Scottish  Hi^lands. 

Jesus,  on  aooK»t  of  his  br!FeliH8aBjHad.iope,  andhii 
speed  in  coming  to  iMiipai'  >Brl  sa^e  us,  is  compared  t* 
the  Roe,  the  Hart,  and  the  Hind.  Song  ii.  17 :  "Until 
the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away,  turn,  WJ 
beJoved ;  and  be  thou  like  a  roe,  or  a  young  hart,  upon 
the  mountains  of  "BetYieT.''     C»\i».^,  V\\\.  W\  "Mib 


ii«LinnRBA,Tiom.  91 

^  my  beloved,  vnd  be  thoD  like  to  a  roe,  tnr  to  a 
V  hart  upon  the  moantniM  of  apices.^ 
f  young  friends,  may  yoar  youthful  bosoms  glow 
love  to  Jesus !  May  you  admire  his  loveliness, 
nay  you  long  after  hisiellowship  !  I  pray  Gk)d  that 
nay  be  enabled  to  say  with  the  heart : 

"  Till  Ifaoa  hast  brought  me  to  thy  home. 
Where  fears  and  denhts  cm  never  come. 
Thy  eoonVnance  let  me  often  see, 
And  often  thouahalt  hear  from  me. 

Come,  mybeloTed,  haste. sway, 
Cat  short  the  hours  of  thy  delay. 
Fly  like  a  youthful  hart,  or  roe. 
Over  the  hills  were  spices  grow." 

iuts  are  compared  to  Deer  panting  for  water-brooks, 
ow  the  earnestness  of  their  desires  after  Christ, 
loliness,  and  heaven.  May  we  feel  these  desires  ! 
d,  grant  we  may  !"  And  may  the  following  lines 
e  language  of  our  hearts  : 


it 


With  eameat  longings  ofthe  mind. 

My  God,  to  thee  I  look  ; 
So  pants  the  hunted  hart  to  find 

And  taste  the  cooling  brook.**  A.  P. 


YEREAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

SIN. 
"  stand  in  &we,  -and  sin  not." 

Y  dear  young  friends,  you  may  have  heard  of  a 
little  girl,  who  as  she  lay  on  her  death -bed  asked  her 
ghtless  father  if  he  could  spell  the  word,  Repent- 
!  This  caused  the  father  to  think  of  the  word, 
the  death  of  the  dear  child,  and  by  the  blessing 
rod,  he  was  led  to  understand  its  meaning,  and  to 
I  forth  fruit  worthy  of  repentance, 
e  ask  you  not  to  spell  the  little  word  Sm,  \i\A  -^^ 
one  and  all  of  you.  Do  you  underataii!^  \^\ia3L  H^. 


92  YEBBAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

meaneth  ?  We  will  tell  you.     It  means  something 
hurts;  because  of  all  things  sin  is  the  most  ha 
There  are  many  things  which  will  hurt  the  body, 
many  things  which  will  hurt  the  mind,  but  sin  h 
both  body  and  soul ;  it  hurts  them  in  time,  and 
removed  and  destroyed  by  Him  who  came  to  save  iMfj 
people  from  their  sins,  will  destroy  both  soul  and  bodj, 
in  hell  fire,  for  ever  and  ever. 

"  Sin,"  say  the  Rabbins,  very  strikingly,  *'  comes  tool 
first  as  a  traveller;  if  admitted,  it  will  soon  become  ft 
gvMty  impatient  to  reside  ;  and  if  allowed  so  far  wS ' 
soon  and  finally  become  master  of  the  house  ! " 

It  may  be  said  of  sin,  as  of  the  beginning  of  striftb 
it  is  "as  the  letting  out  of  water  ;  therefore  leave  .off 
contention  before  it  be  meddled  with.*'     Sin  is  atrifc 
with  God ;  it  is  contention  with  our  Maker  ;  and  w 
Bible  says,   "  Woe  to  the  man  that  striveth  with  Mt;. 
Maker."  Strive,  then,  against  sin,  and  pray  to  Godliiift ' 
you  may  be  enabled  to  stop  it  at  the  very  beginning  f' 
admit  it  not  into  your  hearts  ;  give  no  encouragemort 
to  it  there,  lest  it  get  the  mastery  over  you,  and  ledl 
you  captive  at  its  will. 

Stand  in  awe,  and  fear  little  sins.  "  A  little  leaT« 
leaveneth  the  whole  lump.  Behold  how  great  a  matter 
a  small  spark  kindleth."  If  the  serpent  get  in  hishea^ 
he  will  drag  in  his  whole  body  after  it.  "A  scorpion  ii 
little,  yet  is  able,"  says  an  old  author,  "  to  sting  a  Lioste 
death."  A  small  wound  or  a  little  sickness  may  cany 
you  to  the  grave  ;  and  little  sins  (as  many  call^them]^ 
without  the  great  mercy  of  God,  will  ruin  your  sod> 
for  ever. 

Stand  in  awe,  and  beware  of  single  sins.  Remember, 
one  sin  ruined  Adam  in  Paradise,  and  Adam's  one  aii 
spread  over  all  mankind.  It  became  a  "  spreading 
leprosy."  **  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the  wofMt 
and  death  by  sin ;  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  meib 
for  that  all  have  sinned."  Sm  is  a  plague,  one  ton* 
of  which  ruined  the  v^VioV^  yjoA^,  ^^^  ^^\.  \iss«  ^ 


YEBBAL  ILLUSTRATIONS.  98 

3  are  who  stand  in  awe  and  sin  not.  You  would 
;ate,  I  am  sure,  to  eat  the  smaUest  morsel  of  poison, 
rou  should  endanger  your  hody ;  fear,  then,  to  commit 
jmallest  sin,  for  you  thereby  endanger  your  precious 

tand  in  awe  of  the  power  of  Sin.  Sin  is  "  the 
Qg  man  armed,  that  keepeth  the  house."  What 
)mon  says  of  the  wicked  woman,  may  truly  be  said 
n.  "  She  hath  cast  down  many  wounded ;  yea,  many 
ng  men  have  been  slain  by  her."  "  Her  house  is  the 
to  hell,  going  down  to  the  chamber  of  death." 
id,  the  best  of  kings,  was  overcome  by  sin,  which 
jed  God  to  break  his  bones,  and  to  turn  his  day  into 
it,  and  to  leave  his  soul  in  great  darkness.  Samson, 
strongest  among  men,  was  too  weak  to  grapple  with 
enemy ;  he  was  cast  down,  and  made  to  grind  in  the 
ion  house,  with  his  eyes  put  out.  Sin  caused  Moses, 
meekest  of  men,  to  give  way  to  unseemly  anger, 
ch  so  offended  God,  that  he  was  not  permitted  to 
3r  into  the  Holy  Land. 

Fob,   so  remarkable  for  patience  in  suffering  and 
ictions,  under  the  influence  of  sin  cursed  the  day 
his  death,  and  wished  that  he  had  never  been  born, 
e  wisest  men  are  not  secure  from   its  influence, 
omon  himself,  through  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  was 
away  after  strange  gods.     These  are  given  us  for 
amples  ;  "  Let  us  not  be  high-minded,  but  fear.     Let 
1  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 
rhink  of  the  wages  of  sin.     "  The  wages  of  sin  is 
;th,"  eternal  death, — of  all  sins,  whether  you  account 
m  great  or  small.     Think  how  a  holy  God  hates 
.     He  calls  it  "  that  abominable  thing  which  I  hate." 
,  my  young  friends,  hate  what  God  hates,  and  love 
at  God  loves  !  His  hatred  to  sin  caused  him  to  give 
his'  beloved  Son  to  this  death  for  us  all.     Sin  is  of 
!  devil ;  it  is  the  devil's  work :  and  all  those  who  love 
1  practice  sin  "  are  of  their  father  the  dfeVAJ'  lot 
works  they  do. 
'he  Babbina,  to  deter  their  scholars  from  sm,  n«^t^ 


94  SAGBED  BOTAXfY^ 

wont  to  tell  them,  ^^  tJuitsm  made  Ghod^s  headtoaMl 
Many  have  found  by  woeful  experience,  that  sin  makv  ' 
not  only  the  head  but  their  hearts  to  ache  !  ''  Stand  is  i 
awe,"  then,  my  dear  young  friends,  "  and  sin  not.'' 

Spittal,  Berwick.  ft  " 


SACRED  BOTANY. 

THE    LILIES   OP   THE    FIELD. 

Matt  vi.  28.^ 

There  are  no  objects  in  nature  from  which  we  ray 
not  derive  instruction.  "  The  heavens  declare  tiil 
glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the  firmament  shewetk  Ul 
handy  work."  But  we  do  not  need  to  go  so  high,il 
order  to  learn  lessons  of  piety.  We  have  only  to  loA 
around  us  on  the  earth  we  inhabit,  to  find  matter  fir 
admiring  contemplation,  and  adoring  praisa 

"  There's  not  a  plant  or  flower  below 
But  makes  God's  glories  known." 

We  would  invite  then,  for  a  few  moments,  our  young 
friends  to  learn  some  important  lessons  of  instruetkl 
from  one  of  these  "  flowers  below,"  and  not  the  tail 
delightful  of  them — the  lily  of  the  field :  Jesus  Cbfift 
when  he  was  on  earth  said  to  his  disciples,  ^'  Considv 
the  lilies  of  the  field ; "  and  we  would  now,  along  iritt 
yon,  do  as  he  bid  them  do. 

Ist.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  learn  dt 
greatness  of  Divine  wisdom.  It  has  been  often  nii 
that  there  are  mysteries  in  a  blade  of  grass,  whicii  Ai 
wisest  philosophers  cannot  unravel;  and  so  there  tfft 
But  if  a  blade  of  grass  is  such  an  illustration  of  ^ 
Divine  wisdom,  much  more  a  flower,  and  sndi  t 
beautiful  flower  as  the  lily.  What  wisdom  appetfi  ii 
the  el^ant  form,  in  the  exquisite  texture,  in  ^ 
delicate  colour  of  the  lily !  None  indeed  can  paint 
none  can  weave,  none  can  fabricate  like  nature^  or 
ratheVf  like  the  God  of  nalwxft.  Xw^  ^fsa\  ^tqol'^^iA 
ift  it  aJl  produced  ?  Erom  a\»o\3al^7  iwsfti^Ytt^g,,  ws^'^ 


95 

earth  and  air.  How  marrelloiis  I  Wdl  might  a  pious 
in^vidual  exelainiy  as  he  looked  at-  a  lily  or  primrose 
irhich  he  held  in  one  hanci,  and  a  clod  of  earth,  which 
ht  had  in  the  other,  What  wisdom,  what  power,  to 
produce  this  from  that/ 

2d.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  learn  truxt  in 
0od.  We  are  sometimes  ready  to  fear,  that  we  may 
Dot  get  necessary  food  and  soitahle  raiment.  Ah  ! 
there  are  times  when  even  the  labouring,  industrious, 
but  pious  poor  have  sore  misgivings  in  reference  to  this. 
But  why  should  any  of  God's  chUdren  fear,  while  they 
are  in  the  use  of  the  means  of  honest  industry  ?  Let 
tfiem  only  go  into  the  fields,  and  look  at  the  lilies,  and 
tiny  will  find  their  fears  rebuked  and  their  doubts 
dOspelled.  "  Why,"  said  Christ,  "  take  ye  thought  for 
niment  ?  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 
grow ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin.  Wherefore, 
if  Grod  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  will  he  not 
much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ? "  Should 
we  not  then  trust  ?  Matthew  Henry  says,  Will  God 
that  feeds  the  ravens  starve  his  babes  ?  and  we  may 
oay,  Will  God  that  clothes  the  flowers  allow  his  children 
to  be  naked  ?  No^  verily. 

3d.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  learn  a  lesson 
ef  humility.  Young  people,  ay,  and  older  people  too, 
»6  exceedingly  apt  to  be  proud  of  dress.  What 
expense,  what  care  are  lavished  upon  the  outward 
adorning  of  the  body  !  And  when  you  get  something 
OB,  which  is  finer,  or  richer,  or  gayer  than  others  have, 
how  apt  are  yon  to  be  vain  and  vsdue  yourself  upon  it  I 
Bat  how  weak,  and  even  silly  the  passion  for  dress ! 
Be  ad€>med  as  you  may,  are  you  any  better,  or  any 
wiser,  or  any  happier?  How  gorgeously  apparelled 
was  Solomon !  Yon  can  never  expect  to  be  dressed  so 
xiagnificently  as  he  was.  Yet  he  was  outdone  by  the 
very  lilies.  **  Soloman  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed 
like  one  of  th(?se."  I>resfl  yourself  then  as  T\t\\V^  ^% 
you  can,  be  as  &ne  aa  art  can  make  yo\i>  and  \\^ii\oOK. 


96  SACRED  BOTANY. 

into  the  glass  of  nature,  compare  yourself  \ 
meanest  flower  that  adorns  the  field,  and  wha 
will  you  find  to  be  clothed  with  humility  ! 

4th.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  L 
frailty  of  your  frame.  How  frail  is  the  lily 
beautiful  it  is,  but  as  fragile  as  it  is  beautiful 
easily,  how  quickly  does  it  fade !  "In  the  miQ 
groweth  up,  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down  and  wi 
And  what  is  man  ?  what  art  thou  ?  a  rock 
mountain,  an  oak  of  the  forest  ?  No  :  a  mere 
lily  of  the  field,  easily  crushed  by  the  fod 
nipped  by  the  frost,  easily  scorched  by  the  heal 

It  was  a  remarkable  prayer  which  the  Psali 
up  :  "  Make  me  to  know  mine  end,  and  the  .n^ 
my  days,  what  it  is,  that  I  may  know  how  frail 
We  need,  very  much  need,  to  be  taught  thisiqa 
lesson;  and  we  can  hardly  be  taught  it  betti 
by  going  into  the  field,  and  looking  at  the  fadii 
and  withering  flowers.  "  All  flesh  is  grass, 
the  glory  of  man  as  the  flowers  of  the  grass.**  ■ 

In  a  word,  consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  ani 
the  loveliness  and  beauty  of  the  Saviour,  He 
only  the  rose  of  Sharon,  but  the  lily  of  the^ 
So  he  denominates  himself.  "  I  am,"  said  he^  " 
of  the  valleys." 

The  character  of  the  Saviour  is  made  up  of 
ness  and  beauty.  In  comparison  of  him  ih 
lovely  objects  are  not  lovely,  and  the  most  be 
objects  not  beautiful.  "  My  beloved,"  aq 
spouse  in  the  Song  of  Soloman,  ^*  is  white  and  - 
the  chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  altogether.  If 
And  shall  we  not  then  love  and  admire  one  so  8191 
excellent  ?  shall  we  not  make  him  the  subject  • 
praises  and  the  object  of  our  trust  ?  Oh  yes ; 
place  this  flower  of  paradise,  the  lily  of  the 
which  is  the  admiration  of  heaven,  near  our  he 
make  it  at  once  our  joy  and  crown.  B 

BiaaAB,*  Lakabxshibx.  \ 


^^i^J^^ 

'^M 

98 


PAUL  AND  BARNABAS  AT  LYSTRA 

Paul  was  an  apostle  of  Jesus  Christ.  Once  he  wi 
an  enemy  of  the  GospeL  By  converting  grace  he  wi 
made  the  most  remarkable  preacher  of  the  gospel  ft 
ever  lived.  He  was  eminently  an  itinerant  minista 
that  is,  a  minister  going  from  place  to  place,  preadm 
the  Gfospel  wherever  he  had  opportunity.  He  tr 
veiled  on  foot  over  a  great  part  of  Lesser  Asia,  u 
preached  the  Word  in  almost  every  city.  Th 
country  was  anciently  divided  into  large  proving 
The  name  of  one  of  these  provinces  was  Lycaoni 
Lystra  and  Derbe  were  two  celebrated  cities  in  th 
province.  Barnabas,  a  holy  evangelist,  accompanii 
Paul  in  his  important  journeys.  They  preached  : 
both  these  cities. 

Whil^  Paul  was  preaching  at  Lystra,  a  poor  man, 
cripple,  was  sitting  near  him.  He  had  never  waUu 
from  his  birth.  God  gave  this  poor  cripple  faith,  wU 
he  listened  to  Paul,  that  the  apostle  was  able  to  cfl 
him,  in  the  name  of  Jesus.  While  the  poor  man  Wl 
looking  very  stedfastly  on  the  apostle,  Paul  said  1 
the  man  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Stand  upright  upon  ti 
feet"  And  did  he  stand  up  ?  Yes,  in  a  moment  k 
leaped  and  walked.  And,  oh,  how  the  heart  of  A 
man  leaped  for  joy  !  Paul  and  Barnabas  were  80 
rounded  by  a  great  multitude  of  people.  They  an 
what  was  done,  and  wondered  !  And,  so  they  migK 
for  they  never  saw  such  a  sight  before.  Those  A 
saw  this  sight  were  heathen.  They  were  idolaMI 
pagans.  They  knew  nothing  of  Jesus,  and  of  his  ff^ 
power,  and  his  great  salvation.  They  were  ignom 
of  God,  the  only,  the  living,  and  the  true  God.  T% 
believed  in  false  gods  and  foolish  idols.  When  "^ 
saw  what  was  done,  they  thought  Paul  and  BaraJi 
were  two  gods  in  t\ie  s\\«Lpfe  o^  ixv^i^..  'ft^xuabas  ^ 
thought  was  Jupiter,  audl?a\]\,MfeT^\iT\>\^,  '^'^'S 
of  Jupiter  was  present  amoxk^  t\i^  tdx^jcvNxi^^^ 


SERMON.  99 

the  miracle.  He  made  haste  to  do  honour  to  the  ^ods, 
as  he  supposed.  He  proceeded  to  present  sacrifices  of 
oxen  to  Paul  and  Barnabas.  But  these  holy  men  pre- 
vented them.  They  showed  them  the  vanity  of  false 
gods  and  dumb  idols.  They  made  known  to  them  the 
Tbue  God.  They  preached  to  them  Jesus,  through 
whose  power  alone  the  lame  man  was  healed.  Let  U9 
earnestly  pray,  that  the  promised  day  may  soon  arrive, 
when  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  'shall  cover  the  earth,  as 
the  waters  cover  the  sea;'  and  when  idolatry  '  shall  pass 
away,  and  be  known  no  more  for  ever.'  A.  F. 


SERMON  Vn. 

THE   YOUNG   CHRISTIAN  PILGRIM. 

^^  They  were  PilgrimsJ** — Heb.  xi.  13. 

Who  is  a  Pilgrim  ? — A  traveller  may  be  called  a 
pilgrim.  Those  who  travel  on  a  religious  account  are 
called  pilgiims.  Many  Mahomedans  go  thousands  of 
miles  to  Mecca,  the  place  where  the  false  prophet 
Mahomet  was  born.  And  many  travel  thousands  of 
miles  to  see  Medina,  the  place  where  he  was  buried. 
Those  persons  are  called  pilgrims. 

Multitudes  travel  very  great  distances  every  year  to 
see  Bethlehem,  where  Jesus  was  born.  And  great 
numbers  come  from  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  earth 
to  see  Jerusalem,  where  Jesus  died,  and  to  see  Mount 
Olivet,  whence  Jesus  ascended  to  heaven.  These  are 
called  pilgrims.  And  they  travel  for  a  religious 
purpose. 

Abraham  was  a  pilgrim,  both  literally  and  spiritually. 
At  the  command  of  God  he  left  Mesopotamia,  his 
native  land,  and  travelled  from  place  to  place,  all  his 
life,  without  a  settled  home.  On  this  account  he  was 
literally  a  pilgrim.  And  he  was  spiritually  a  pilgrim. 
He  travelled  through  the  wilderness  of  t\ns  nsjo^^  ^"^ 
bis  way  to  a  heavenly  home.  When  "he  di<e^\kfc  ^jsv^^ 
Ids  pilgrimage,  and  he  reached  bia  \xomft.    TViK»  ^» 

h2 


100  SJBRMON^ 

has  lived  in  happiness  and  glory  ever  since  ; 
he  shall  live  for  ever. 

As  Abraham  was  a  spiritual  pilgrim,  » 
pious  praying  child.     The  best,  the  happies 
most  useful  of  all  pilgrims  are  those  who 
spiritual  pilgrims  when  they  are  young, 
friends,  may  God  make  you  young  pilgrims 

Every  child  is  on  a  journey  to  an  eter 
There  is  a  world  of  eternal  joy.  And  there 
of  eternal  misery.  There  are,  therefore, 
leading  through  this  world.  The  one  is  e 
straight.  The  other  is  broad  and  crooked, 
leads  to  heaven.  The  second  leads  to  h 
child  is  walking  on  one  or  the  other  of  tl 
Believe  it,  my  young  friends,  you  are  walls 
on  the  one  or.  on  the  other.  It  is  my  earn 
that  you  may  enter  upon  the  first,  and  f 
second.  Oh,  may  the  Holy  Spirit  make  you 
grlms  to  heaven  !  Blessed  pilgrimage !  He 
own  words.  He  has  provided  a  heaven  for 
grims.  Oh,  hear  what  he  says.  And  in  th 
of  Divine  grace  do  what  he  requires.  Wh 
say  ?  Matt.  vii.  13,  14.  "  Enter  ye  in  at 
gate  ;  for  wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  is  the 
leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many  there  be  ik 
thereat :  because  strait  is  the  gate,  and  nai 
way,  which  leadeth  unto  life  ;  and  few  then 
find  it." 

As  there  are  two  roads,  there  are  two  • 
Very  much  they  differ  from  each  other  here 
shall  differ  IIeu:  more  in  the  world  to  come, 
pany  of  travellers  has  a  leader.  Jesus  is  the 
the  one  company ;  Satan  is  the  leader  of  the  < 
first  Leader  leads  the  company  of  young  j 
heaven.  The  second  leader  leads  the  compan; 
travellers  to  hell 

'  Pray  fervently,  my  yo\m^  ^tV^w^'^,  \Saai  i 
maj  be  blessed*  WbVlLe  you  w^  Teaa:\\m, ' 
wish  to  be  made  yoiuig  pV\^\TQa.  ^^^w^ 


.«uacoN.  101 

Bay  you  become,  bj  divine  gTBC^y  young  pilgrims ! 

Uen! 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holj  Spirit,  I  will  endea- 
^  to  describe  the  toung  pilorim. 

i-  Sis  heart. 

By  the  heart  we  are  to  understand  the  soul.  The 
^ophet  Jeremiah  tells  us  that  "  the  Jteart  is  deceitful 
l»ve  all  things,"  Jer.  xvii.  9.  That  is,  "  the  naul  is 
Wtfiil  above  all  things."  Solomon  says,  (Prov.  iv. 
^)  "Keep  thine  heart  with  all  diligence."  That  is, 
'keep  thy  wul  with  all  diligence." 

Ifl  attempting  to  describe  the  young  pilgrim*s  heart, 

"lust  endeavour  to  show  you  what  his  heart  once 
^  and  what  it  now  is. 

J8t  Consider  what  it  once  was.  It  was  bad,  very 
^^  It  was  evil,  wholly  evil.  Whenever  we  look 
P®^  his  heart  before  he  became  a  young  pilgrim,  we 
*  that  every  part  was  corrupted  by  sin.  We  see  that 
^^  wicked.  Yes,  *  desperately  wicked/  Do  we  look 
yhe  Understanding  ?  It  was  blinded  with  ignorance 
I*  *olly,  Dq  y^Q  IqqI^  upon  the  wUl  ?  It  was  obsti- 
^  and  rebellious.     Do  we  look  upon  the  memoi^? 

^  that  it  quickly  remembered  what  was  evil,  and 

y  forgot  what  was  good.  Do  we  look  upon  the 
^^ice?   We  see  that  it  was  slumbering  and  un- 

*^L     Do  we  look  upon  the  affections  ?    We  see 

^hey  were  set  on  things  earthly  and  sinful,  and 
^^    things  spiritual  and  heavenly.     Dear  young 

®>  was  not  this  a  sad  state  of  things?  And  this 
'  ^ue  picture  of  the  young  pilgrim's  heart,  before 
'^^ine  a  young  pilgrim  ;  before  he  gave  his  heart 
^^s ;  before  he  began  his  pilgrimage  to  the  heavenly 

*'  Sin,  like  a  yenomous  disease, 
Infects  our  vital  blood ; 
The  only  balm  is  sovereign  grace, 
And  the  Physician,  Gtod." 

Consider  what  his  heart,  or  soul,  now  \a. 
^hat  a  change  baa  taken  place  1    llie  c\i«LTv^'ei  \% 
^^  and  wonderful  as  if  jou  saw  a  serpent  <iWaS^ 


102  SEBMOK. 

into  a  dove,  or  a  ruin  changed  into  a  marble  palace ;  or 
an  old  man  with  wrinkled  face,  stooping  down  to 
meet  the  dust,  changed  into  a  lovely  youth.  His  heiit 
is  actually  called  a  new  heart.  Ezek.  xxxvi.  26.  •! 
new  heart  also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  1 
put  within  you  ;  and  1  will  take  away  the  stony  heirt 
out  of  your  flesh,  and  will  give  you  an  heart  of  fleA .' 
Divine  wisdom  and  knowledge  shine  in  his  undtf* 
standing,  as  the  sun  shines  in  the  firmament.  BlesMJ 
change  !  His  will  is  obedient  to  the  will  of  God.  Hi 
conscience  speaks  for  God.  Blessed  change!  ffii 
memory  is  the  rich  treasury  of  divine  truth  ;  and  til 
affections  and  love  are  placed  on  Jesus  the  lonM 
Saviour.  Blessed  change! — blessed  youth  I — \Ae8Bn 
child,  who  has  this  new  heart !  He  is  a  young  pit 
grim.  Heaven  is  his  home.  Jesus  is  his  guide,  vsi 
he  shall  at  last  reach  in  safety  the  celestial  city. 

II.  Consider  the  young  pilgrim's  ei/e. 

The  young  pilgrim  has  a  lovely  eye.  It  is  br^ 
and  strong.  He  can  see  with  this  eye  what  no  nm 
can  see  with  the  bodily  eye.  The  name  given  to  iti> 
the  Bible  is,  the  "  eye  of  the  understanding."  Eph.  L  lli 
"  The  eyes  of  your  understanding  being  enlightened.* 
That  eye,  before  he  became  a  young  pilgrim,  was  aiW 
eye ;  and,  what  is  worse,  a  blind  eye.  But  the  mo* 
ment  he  began  to  enter  upon  his  blessed  journey  to 
heaven,  Jesus,  his  Leader,  opened  his  eye,  enligfatoiel 
his  eye.  Then  that  beautiful  promise  was  falfiM 
(Isa.  xlii.  6,  7.)  "I  will  give  thee  for  a  light  of  to 
Gentiles  to  open  the  blind  eyes."  What  does  he  see 
with  this  eye  ?  He  sees  God.  Wonderful !  Yea,  hb 
sees  God  the  Father,  as  his  loving  Father.  He  eetf 
God  the  Son,  as  his  loving  Saviour,  He  sees  Grod  Ae 
Spirit,  as  his  loving  Sanctifier.  What  a  blessed  eje ! 
What  a  blessed  sight !  He  can  see  heaven  with  ^ 
eye.  He  can  see  heaven,  as  his  home.  And  he  cm 
see  Jesus,  the  Lamb  oi  GoA,  m  VVia  tkAsx!  ^  \»flLV^^ 
loftiest  throne.  Oh,  may  Go^  xXi^^^l  Q^m»\.^t^>i 
each  of  you  the  young  piV^xWa  «>[^^ 


SBBMOir.'  103 

m.  The  jonng  pil^m's  hand. 

What  is  the  name  of  his  hand  ?  It  is  the  hand  of 
Jkith.  Believing  in  Jesus  as  our  Saviour,  is  faith. 
And  what  the  hand  does  for  the  body,  faith,  or  be- 
lieving in  Christ,  does  for  the  soul.  Come  and  see 
what  the  young  pilgrim  does  with  the  hand  of  faith. 
He  makes  good  use  of  it,  great  use  of  it^  constant  use 
ofit. 

.  What  use  does  he  make  of  it  ?  He  leans  with  it,  on 
the  great  arm  of  Christ's  almighty  power.  Thus  he 
is  helped  on  in  his  pilgrimage.  What  more  does  the 
young  pilgrim  with  his  hand  of  faith  ?  He  grasps  the 
promises.  And  he  takes  so  firm  a  hold,  that  the  most 
powerful  enemy  cannot  take  them  out  of  his  hand. 
What  else  does  he  do  with  this  hand  ?  He  wrestles. 
Tes,  with  his  corruptions,  and  with  his  spiritual 
enemies.  Paul  wrestled  with  this  hand  of  faith. 
Eph.  vi.  12.  "  We  wrestle  against  principalities  and 
powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world."  Beloved  young  friends,  may  God  by  his 
Spirit  make  you  spiritual  virrestlers?  And  what  beside 
does  he  do  with  this  hand  ?  He  fights  and  conquers. 
The  moment  the  young  pilgrim  begins  his  journey  to 
heaven,  he  begins  to  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith.  He 
takes  into  the  hand  of  faith  the  sword  of  the  Spirit. 
And  with  such  a  sword,  in  such  a  hand,  no  spiritual 
enemy  can  stand  before  him.  Pray  fervently,  my 
young  friends,  for  the  hand  of  faith.  Then  you  shall 
not  only  be  young  pilgrims,  but  young  warriors. 

IV.  The  young  pilgrim's  garments, 

Ist.  Though  he  is  a  pilgrim,  he  wears  a  robe.  It 
is  the  robe  of  the  Redeemer's  righteousness.  This 
righteousness  consists  of  what  Jesus  became,  did,  and 
suffered  for  our  salvation.  The  instant  a  little  child 
receives  Christ  as  his  Saviour,  this  righteousness 
becomes  his.  And  he  wears  it  as  his  robe.  How 
beautiful  the  j^oung  pilgrim  looks  in  tins  ro\>e  \ 

^d.   The  young  pilgrim  is  clothed  with.  tVie  ^wTftftxAa 
ff  salvation.     Young  friends,  do  you  k^ivow  N«ir\veX.  \)aR%^ 


101  SERMONS 

garments  are  ?  If  you  do  hot,  I  will  tell  you.'  Thej 
'aref  the  gtaces  of  the  Spirit.  Humility  and  love  an 
two  of  these  garments.  Faith  and  hope  are  two  othen 
of  these  garments.  Zeal  and  patience  are  two  othen 
of  these  garments.  Meekness  and  gentleness  are  tm 
others  of  these  garments.  This  dress,  in  which  tb 
young  pilgrim  appears,  is  not  of  earthly  manu&ctim 
Neither  angels  nor  men  could  make  it.  It  is  manii 
factured  in  heaven.  It  is  made  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
When  the  young  pilgrim  begins  his  journey  to  iHk 
heavenly  city,  this  dress  is  taken  from  Christ's  roja 
wardrobe,  and  put  upon  him.  Oh,  how  well  he  looki 
in  this  royal  heavenly  dress !  and  Oh,  how  happy !  Th 
young  pUgrim  sings  the  following  song  (Isa.  IxL  10) 
"  I  will  greatly  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  my  soul  shall  h 
joyful  in  my  God  :  for  he  hath  clothed  me  with  lb 
garments  of  salvation,  he  hath  covered  me  with  dM 
robe  of  righteousness." 

"  How  far  the  heavenly  robe  exceeds. 
What  earthly  princes  wear ! 
These  ornaments,  how  bright  they  shine  1 

How  white  the  garments  are  ! 
Strangely,  my  soul,  art  thou  arrayed 

By  the  great  sacred  Three  : 
Jn  sweetest  harmony  of  praise 
Let  all  thy  powers  agree.** 

My  dear  young  children,  may  the  robe,  the  raiment 
the  happiness,  and  the  blessedness  of  the  young  pilgrin 
be  yours ! 

V.  The  young  pilgrim's  armour. 

St.  Paul  gives  a  very  striking  description  of  thi 
armour,  in  which  the  young  pilgrim  appears,  and  b; 
which  he  defends  himself  from  his  enendes ;  and  b[ 
which  he  wounds  them,  and  by  which  he  conqaei 
them.  The  account  is  in  Eph.  vi.  14 — 17.  Tb 
apostle  mentions  six  things  of  which  this  arqiour  coi 
fiists.  Come  and  see  the  young  pilgrim  in  armoiii 
ready  for  the  fight.    ^ 

See  upon  his  bead  t\ie  Helroet  oj  ^aVoo-Woti*^ 
upon  his  bosom  the  Breastplate  oj  B.\^VUw«»«u.  ' 


SACBED  ZOOLOGY.  105 

ronnd  his  loins  the  sash,  or  Oirdle  of  Truth,  See  upon 
lis  feet  his  spiritual  shoes,  the  Preparation  of  the 
Jospel  of  Peace.  See  in  his  right  hand  the  Sword  of 
ke  Spirit    See  upon  his  left  arm  the  Shield  of  Faith, 

The  helmet  is  provided  for  the  defence  of  the 
:ddier*s  head.  Salvation  is  the  defence  of  the  young 
ilgrim's  soul.  The  breastplate  is  provided  for  the 
efence  of  the  soldier's  bosom.  The  righteousness  of 
!hrist  defends  the  young  pilgrim's  heart  from  the 
aming  sword  of  offended  justice.  Divine  truth  is  the 
oung  pilgrim's  girdle,  by  which  he  is  fitted  to  fight 
ith  activity,  and  run  with  swiftness,  his  Christian 
ice.  He  is  fortified  and  protected  by  Gospel  doctrines, 
ad  prepared  for  walking  over  paths  the  most  rugged, 
lomy,  and  difficult.  The  Bible  is  his  sharp  and  two- 
ciged  sword,  by  which  he  makes  even  Satan  stagger 
ad  fall.  Faith  is  his  shield  of  defence,  which  even 
16  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one  cannot  pierce. 

Now,  in  conclusion,  what  do  you  think  of  the  young 
ilgrim  arrayed  in  armour  ?  Does  he  not  look  lovely, 
nd  noble,  and  invincible  ?  He  does.  Oh,  pray  that 
ou  may  belong  to  the  company  of  young  pilgrims ! 
?hen,  at  last,  you  will,  reach  a  glorious  heaven,  the 
ilgrim's  home  !     Amen,  A.  F. 

(To  he  continued  in  our  next.) 


SACKED  ZOOLOGY. 

THE   EAGLE. 
tt  rj^y  youth  is  renewed  as  the  Eaglets Paalm  ciii.  5. 

The  Eagle  is  a  bird  of  prey,  often  mentioned  in 
:»ipture.  As  the  lion  is  the  king  of  beasts,  the  eagle 
the  king  of  birds.  '  I  shall '  first  give  you  a  short 
ascription  of  the  eagle,  and  then  show  the  spiritual 
le  which  is  made  of  this  bird  in  the  Word  of  God, 
I.  I  wiJJ  endeavour  to  give  you  a  sViort  descTV^>AOXv 
tie  eagle.  There  are  many  kinds  of  eagVea,  ^\^er«i% 
i^  and  plumage.     They  all  belong  to  that  genus  ^l 


SACRED  zooloot;  107 

birds  of  prey  called  the  Falcon  genus.  All  eagles  have 
a  strong  beak,  considerably  long,  straight  at  the  base 
or  root,  and  bent  towards  the  point.  The  legs  are 
strong  and  covered  with  feathers  even  to  the  toes,  and 
these  are  armed  with  very  powerful  claws. 

The  Great  Eagle  is  a  name  which  includes  the  six  fol- 
lowing :  the  common  eagle,  the  royal  eagle,  the  golden 
eagle,  the  ring-tailed  eagle,  the  white-tailed  eagle,  and 
the  black  eagle.  The  male  eagle  is  about  throe  feet 
long,  and  the  female  about  three  feet  and  a  half.  The 
wings  at  their  full  stretch,  extend  between  six  and 
eight  feet.  The  female  is  larger,  and  is  even  more 
courageous  and  cunning  than  the  male.  In  clear 
weather,  the  eagle  rises  to  an  astonishing  height,  and 
at  times,  notwithstanding  its  great  size,  becomes  in* 
visible  to  the  human  eye.  Even  then  its  cry  is  heard, 
resembling  the  barking  of  a  small  dog.  So  amazing  is 
the  sharpness  of  its  sight,  that  when  it  is  too  high  to 
be  visible  to  man,  it  can  see  a  hare,  or  even  a  smaller 
animal,  upon  the  ground ;  when  it  darts  upon  it  with 
certain  and  unerring  aim.  The  eagle  very  seldom 
leaves  the  mountains.  "When  he  visits  the  plains,  it  is 
generally  in  the  winter  season.  He  is  so  strong  that 
he  can  cut  through  the  air  in  opposition  to  the  most 
furious  wind?.  Ramond,  a  celebrated  writer,  and  ob- 
server of  nature,  says,  that  when  he  stood  upon  mount 
Perdu,  the  loftiest  mountain  of  the  Pyrenees,  he  saw 
no  living  creature  but  an  eagle.  It  was  flying  over  his 
head  with  immense  rapidity,  in  direct  opposition  to  a 
furious  south-west  wind. 

The  female  lays  two,  and  very  seldom  three  eggs 
annually.  She  sits  upon  them  thirty  days.  The  nest  is 
called  an  "  eyrie,"  and  is  usually  placed  in  the  hollow 
or  fissure  of  some  very  high  and  abrupt  rock.  It  is 
£[>rmed  with  long  sticks,  twined  together  with  small 
twigs,  and  covered  over  with  layers  of  rushes,  heath, 
or  moss.  It  is  not  hollow  like  other  ive^A\  \sv>\.\\.va» 
level,  and  may  be  properly  called  a  Ta\?^e^  ^-^lorssi* 
Some  of  the  nesta  which  have  "been  Tueasoct^^n  >b»:^^ 


108  8ACBED  ZOOLOGTi 

been  two  yards  square.  Eagles  are  fouiid  in  thd  m6vE^ 
tainous  regions  of  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe.  Thej 
likewise  appear  in  the  mountains  of  Great  Britain  ai^ 
Ireland. 

II.  We  will  now  consider  the  spiritual  use  which  is 
made  of  this  remarkable  bird  in  the  Word  of  God- 
In  Exod.  xix.  4.,  God  says  to  Israel  ;  **  Ye  hafe 
seen  what  I  did  unto  the  Egyptians,  and  how  I  bare 
you  on  eagles'  wings."  Moses  said  to  Israel,  a  short 
time  before  his  death,  speaking  of  God*s  watchful  care 
over  them  ;  Deut.  xxxii.  11,  12,  '^  As  an  eagle  stir* 
reth  up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her  young,  spreadeth 
abroad  her  wings,  taketh  them,  beareth  them  on  her  ; 
wings,  so  the  Lord  alone  did  lead  him,  and  there  wai 
no  strange  god  with  him.'*  It  is  said.  Psalm.  ciiL  5^  ' 
**  Thy  youth  is  renewed  like  the  eagle's.**  We  are 
told,  that  periodically  the  eagle  renews  its  youth  wai 
vigour.  In  allusion  to  this  fact,  there  is  a  promise 
made  to  the  people  of  God,  that  their  bodily  health  aad 
strength,  but  more  especially,  that  their  spiritual  heahk 
and  strength  would  be  renewed,  increased,  and  continued. 
The  flight  of  time,  and  the  rapid  course  of  human 
life,  are  illustrated  by  the  eagle's  rapid  flight.  Job.  iXi 
25,  26,  "  My  days  are  passed  away  as  the  eagle  that 
hasteth  for  his  prey."  The  very  quick  removal  of 
riches  from  their  possessors  is  compared  to  the  eagle 
flying  to  the  heavens,  which  can  neither  be  taken  nor 
reached.  Prov.  xxiii.  5,  "  Wilt  thou  set  thine  eyesoi 
that  which  is  not  ?  for  riches  make  themselves  wings  j 
they  fly  away  as  an  eagle  toward  heaven." 

Believers,  in  the  liveliness  of  their  hope  and  in  tiie 
vigour  of  their  faith,  are  compared  to  the  eagle  ae* 
cending  to  the  sky.  Isa.  xl.  31,  <<  But  they  that  wa^ 
upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength;  they  shall 
mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles."  These  woitls  are 
beautifully  rendered  by  Watts  :— 

**  The  saints  ahaW  mo>m\.  oil  «dj^^  ^vo^q^ 

And  taste  the  pTOixi\AK^^\>^vBi&« 

Till  their  unwearied  iee\.  wrw^  ,»   x,^  xi  ,^vv  ^i 

Where  perfect  i^YeaEMxe  \ftr— ^B^^^V^ixia.'w.^ 


109 


KAMES  OP  JBSITS  ALPHABBIICALLY  ARRANGED. 

The  following  names  are  given  in  Scripture  to  our 
Lord  and  Saviour,  beginning  with  the  letter  A :— * 

Ahchob,  Heb.  tI.  19. 


Adam,  1  Cor.  xy.  45. 
Adyooatb,  1  John  U.  1. 
Auxs,  Psal.  Ixix.  8. 
All  IN  ALL,  CoL  iii.  11. 
Almightt,  Rev.  i.  8. 
Alpha,  Rev.  i.  8. 
Altab,  Heb.  xiii.  10. 
Amws,  Rev.  iiL  14. 


AvoiXHT  OF  Days,  Dan.  viL  9, 10. 
Ahobl,  Geo.  zlyiii.  16. 
Afointed,  Psalm,  li.  2. 
Apostle,  Heb.  iii.  1. 
Arm  of  the  Lord,  Isa.  liii.  1. 
Author  of  Eternal  Saltation, 
Heb.  V.  9. 


It  is  my  design,  by  the  help  of  God,  to  give  in  this 
javenile  work  all  Christ's  names  and  titles  in  alpha- 
betical order.  And  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  the  literal 
(neaning  of  the  names,  to  show  what  a  Saviour  is  Jesus, 
lod  that  our  youthful  readers  may  be  thus  taught  by 
he  Spirit  to  love  Jesus.  When  you  read  his  wonderful 
uunes,  and  think  of  the  meaning  of  his  blessed  and 
i^nderful  names,  may  you  be  taught  to  sing  in  sweet 
Old  holy  strains — 

"  Jesus !  I  lore  thy  charming  name, 
'Tis  music  to  my  ear ; 
Fain  would  I  sound  it  out  so  loud, 
That  heaven  and  earth  might  hear." 

ADAM. 

The  name  Adam  is  given  to  Jesus  in  1  Cor.  xv.  45. 
'The  first  man  Adam  was  made  a  living  soul  ;  the 
ist  Adam  was  made  a  quickening  spirit."  Why  is 
Jhrist  called  Adam,  and  the  Last  Adam?  It  is  this,- 
>ecause  the  first  Adam  was  a  type  or  figure  of  Christ* 
Lttend,  my  young  friends,  to  the  following  particulars, 
nd  then,  you  will  clearly  see  how  Adam  was  a  type  of 
Christ. 

Adam  w^  our  covenant  head,  and  Jesus  is  the  Cove- 
ant  Head  of  all  his  people.     A  covenant  head  is  one 
rho  engages  to  do  something  for  others.     Now,  Adam 
ngaged  not  to  eat  the  forbidden  fruit.     H^  e.Tv^«^^<fc^ 
7>  for  himself,  and  for  all  his  descendants,  li  W  Vl^v^ 
•  covenant^  God  engaged  to  make  Yum,  md  aW  \x\^ 


descendants,  blessed  for  ever  and  ever*  -fiat 
broke  the  covenant.  And  what  was  the  paini 
dreadful  consequence  ?  He  brought  ruin  apo 
self  and  all  his  posterity.  And  you  and  I  fed  i 
lost  an  earthly  paradise,  and  he  lost  the  hope 
heavenly  paradise.  More  than  this,  he  expose 
self,  and  all  his  race,  to  hell,  and  endless  woe ! 
fore  an  apostle  says,  (Bom.  v.  12,)  "As  by  one 
entered  into  the  i/vorld,  and  death  by  sin;  £ 
hath  passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sini 

Having  given  you  an  account  of  what  the  fin 
has  done,  let  us  now  consider  what  Christ 
Adam  engaged  to  do,  and  what  he  has  don< 
Covenant  Head.  Unless  you  know,  and  on* 
this,  you  can  never  know  and  understand  tl 
plan  of  salvation,  which  the  Gospel  makes  knon 
deavour  then,  to  pay  the  strictest  attention. 

From  all  eternity,  God  the  Father  and  Gk)d 
entered  into  covenant.  In  this  covenant,  CI 
gaged  to  come  into  our  world,  to  become  man, 
to  suffer,  and  to  die.  He  engaged  in  covenf 
all  this  for  our  salvation.  Oh,  never  forget  tha 
our  salvation^  He  kept  the  covenant.  He  w 
fuL  He  became  man.  He  obeyed  the  law. 
fered  and  died  for  our  salvation.  Thus  he  is  tl 
Adam."  He  is  our  Covenant  Head.  Therei 
said,  (1  Cor.  xv.  22y)  "  For  as  in  Adam  all  die 
in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive."  How  very  ' 
are  the  following  lines  on  this  covenant  int 
Jesus  the  last  Adam  entered  for  us — 

"  Thus  to  his  Son  the  Father  said. 
With  thee  a  cov'nant  I  have  made ; 
In  thee  shall  dying  sinners  live, 
Gloiy  and  grace  are  thine  to  give.** 

Watts,  Psalm  Izxzix.  y. 

ADVOCATE. 

Our  blessed  Lord  is  csilile^  ^iv  K<iNQ«^t^m  1 
J.  "  I(  any  maa  sin,  ve  Vw^  «ixv  ^^^^^^^a^^ 
Jktber,  JesoB  Christ  tk^  xi^Vx^x^a'' 


VA3USB  or  JB8U8.  Ill 

»ur  to  explain  what  an  advocate  is.  An 
ounsellor,  or  a  barrister ;  that  is,  a 
>  pleads  and  delivers  speeches  in  courts 
ids  up  before  the  judge,  and  when  he 
ts,  it  is  for  another,  and  not  for  himself, 
questions  which  you  may  wish  me  to 
Vhere  does  Jesus  the  Advocate  plead  ? 
i  what  judge  does  he  plead  ?  Thirdly, 
he  plead  ?  and  Fourthly,  In  what 
plead? 

Jesus  plead  ?  It  is  in  the  court  of 
t  cities,  the  noblest  buildings  are  gene- 
s  where  courts  of  law  are  held.  The 
us  pleads,  is  the  most  glorious  place 
It  is  the  third  heaven,  it  is  the 
rens" — 

high  the  heavenly  temple  stands, 
•use  of  Gk>d  not  made  with  hands, 
vocate  our  nature  weai^s, 
yiour  of  mankind  appears." 

[uestion  is,  Before  whom  does  Jesus 
dge  before  whom  he  appeai*s  is  God 
jre  never  was  such  Judge,  there  never 
te.  Oh,  how  the  Judge  loves  the  Advo- 
he  Advocate  loves  the  Judge ! 

T  lives  to  intercede 

re  his  Father's  face ; 

Im,  my  soul,  thy  cause  to  plead, 

doubt  the  Father's  grace." 

istion  is.  For  whom  does  Jesus  plead  ? 
le,  his  children,  his  friends.  Perhaps, 
)  saying,  Oh,  I  wish  Jesus  would  plead 
u  in  earnest  ?  Do  you  really  widi  it  ? 
to  become  your  advocate,  to  plead  for 
I.     He  will  do  it,  without  money  and 

wstion  18,  How  does  lie  ]f\ea^'i    l^a 
}r  his  wisdom  is  infiiiite.    He  i^eaAa 
his  love  is  boundlesa.     He  ij\e»ftA 


112  POETIC  GElfS. 

most  eloquently  and  earnestly:   and  he  pleads  mo 

successfully.     He  shows  before  the  throne  the  marl 

on  his  hands,  and  feet,  and  bosom,  the  memorials 

the  wounds  he  received  on  Calvary's  cross.     And  tiw 

he  says,  (John  xvii.  24,)  "  Father,  I  wUl  that  they  wlw 

thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me  where  I  am,  that  tbi 

may  behold  my  glory."     Happy,  happy  are  they  wl 

have  such  an  advocate  !     Dear  children,  commit  yw 

soul  into  Jesus'  hand.     Then  he  will  plead  yonr  cub 

in  heaven.     Then  you  will  be  able  to  sing  with  d 

holy  apostle : 

"  Firm  as  his  throne  his  promise  stands^ 
And  he  can  well  secure 
What  I've  committed  to  his  hands, 

Till  the  decisive  hour.*'— Watts,  BookL  Edi 

{To  he  continued). 


POETIC   GEMS. 

THE   CHRISTIANAS  GRACES,   AND  THEIR  BXBSCISS   OT  THI 
PROSPECT   OF    HEAYLN. 


ft 


it 


I. 

Says  Faith,  Look  yonder,— see  the  crown 

Laid  up  in  heaven  above ! 
Says  Hope,  Anon  it  shall  be  mine; 

I'll  wear  it  soon,  says  Love. 

II. 

Desire  doth  say,  What's  there  ?  my  crown  ! 

Then  to  that  place  111  flee ; 
I  (Cannot  bear  a  longer  stay. 

My  rest  I  fkin  would  see. 

HI. 

"But  stay,  says  Patience,  wait  awhile. 
The  crown's  for  Ihose  who  fight ; 
The  prize  for  those  who  run  the  laoe. 
By  faith,  and  not  by  sight 

IV. 

"  Thus  Faith  doth  take  a  pleasing  view ; 
.Hope  waits,  Love  sits  and  sings ; 

Bat  P  ATiEKcm  c\\p»  \v^t  mw^r 

FYomo.uOUA>iSm 


114 


PETER'S  CONFESSION,  AND  THE  KEYS  OF 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN. 

Jesus  instructed  his  disciples  hy  askin^j  them  ques- 
tions. In  this  way  he  directed  their  attention  to  divine 
truth.  In  this  way  he  impressed  divine  truth  upon 
their  memory.  And  in  this  way  he  fixed  divine  truth 
upon  their  hearts. 

One  day,  he  asked  them,  (Matt  xvi.  13,)  saying, 
"  Whom  do  men  say  that  I,  the  Son  of  man,  amT 
They  answered,  that  some  thought  he  was  John  the 
Baptist,  raised  from  the  dead ;  some  thought  he  was 
the  prophet  Elijah ;  and  others,  tliat  he  was  Jereroidi, 
or  one  of  the  prophets.  It  is  affecting  that  none  rf 
these  said,  or  thought,  he  was  the  Christ.  Alas  I  hem 
blind  and  slow  men  were  to  believe  that  Jesus  was  tbe 
Christ,  even  though  his  miracles  were  most  mercifol, 
powerful,  stupendous,  and  glorious  ! 

Then  Jesus  put  the  question  direct  to  his  discipH 
"  Whom  say  ye  that  I  am  T*   The  Apostle  Peter  was  the 
most  forward  of  all  the  disciples.     He  answered  the 
question  for  himself,  and  the  rest  of  his  brethren.  And 
what  a  blessed   answer  it  is!     He  said,  and  angeb 
listened  with  holy  delight  while  he  said,  '*  Thou  art 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.**     Our  Saviour 
was  well  pleased  with  this  noble  confession.     He  pro* 
nounced  Peter  blessed ;  and  those  he  blesses,  u^d  onlj 
they,  are  blessed,  for  ever  blessed.     He  said,  "  Blessed 
art  thou  Simon,  Bar- Jona ;  for  flesh  and  blood  hath  i 
not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father  who  is  ib  < 
heaven.    And  I  say  also  unto  thee.  Thou  art  Peter,  and  ' 
upon  this  rock  will  I  build  my  church."     The  name  I 
P£T£B  signifies  a  rock ;  but  Peter  was  not  the  rock  on  | 
which  the  Saviour  built  his  church.     He  built  it  upOB  i 
Himself,  whom  Peter  confessed,  and  whose  Messiah-  j 
ship  Peter  ackiiow\edg^e^.    13l^  eavM  w^ver  mean  that  | 
Peter  was  the  rock*,  vWt  ^«^^  Vck^q"s^^^^\^,    i^'^ 
HDgeh  in  heaven— Car  \eaa  YeV^x— «x^  x^sA.  «QSSisM®&»^ 


SERMON.  115 

be  a  rock  on  which  to  build  the  church  of  the  livins: 
God.  Jesus,  in  his  Messiahship,  is  the  rock,  the  only 
rock.  "  Other  foundation  can  no  man  lay,  than  that 
which  is  laid,  even  Jesus."  He  alone  laid  in  Zion  "  a 
foundation,  a  stone^  a  precious  corner-stone,  a  sure 
foundation." 

When  Peter  made  the  noble  confession,  his  Lord 
openly  declared  that  he  gave  him  the  full  power  of  an 
apostle.  He  said,  "  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven."  By  keys^  we  are  to  under- 
stand apostolical  authority,  wisdom,  and  discernment; 
therefore,  whatever  the  disciples  would  do  under  Divine 
direction,  would  receive  Divine  sanction.  This  honour 
was  not  conferred  on  Peter  alone ;  it  was  given  to  all 
the  apostles,  John  xx.  22,  23 :  *'  And  he  breathed  on 
them,  and  saith  unto  them.  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost; 
whosesoever  sins  ye  remit,  they  are  remitted  unto 
them;  and  whosesoever  sins  ye  retain,  they  are  re- 
tained." 


SERMON  VIIL 

THE   TOUNG   CHRISTIAN   PILGRIM. 

"  Thy  Statutes  have  been  my  songs  in  tlie  home  of  my 
pilgrimage" — ^Ps.  cxix.  54. 

What  a  lovely  sight  is  a  young  Christian  pilgrim  ! 
A  young  pilgrim  on  his  way  to  heaven  is  a  sight  on 
which  angels  look  with  joy  and  admiration.  But  what 
a  painful,  affecting  sight,  a  child  travelling  the  down- 
ward road  to  hell  I  Oh,  how  I  pity  that  child !  If  any 
of  you  belong  to  the  number  of  such  travellers,  may 
God  change  your  hearts!  May  he  persuade  you  to 
place  yourselves  under  the  care  of  Jesus ;  then  he  will 
make  you  young  Christian  pilgrims ;  then  he  will 
make  you  joyful  even  in  the  wilderness  of  this  world ; 
then,  like  David,  his  "  statutes  mU  \)^  '^oxa  ^ws^\sv 
the  house  of  your  pilgrimage." 
la  a  former  discourse  we  spoke  o£  VJc^e  -jwssa^  ^^ 

I  2 


116  .SERMON. 

grim's  Searty  his  Eye,  his  Sand^  his  Oai-menUy  and 
his  Armour.  In  this  discourse,  and  in  humble  depen- 
dence on  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  will  consider— 

I.  The  young  pilgrim's  Staff, 

I  will  endeavour  to  show  what  is  his  staff,  and  then 
point  out  some  beautiful  inscriptions  written  on  thia 
staff.  These  inscriptions  the  young  pilgrim  often  reads, 
and,  I  assure  you,  with  these  he  is  much  comforted   . 

1st.  What  is  his  staff?  God's  power  and  truth  form 
•his  staff.  God  is  a  promising  God,  a  powerful  Grod, 
and  the  true  God.  He  is  a  promising  God ;  he  gives 
the  young  pilgrim  promises  of  every  blessing  he  needs 
in  his  pilgrimage  to  heaven.  He  is  a  powerful  God; 
he  is  therefore  ahU  to  fulfil  every  promise  he  has  made. 
And  he  is  a  true  God,  and  never  fails  to  fulfil  every 
promise  on  which  he  encourages  the  young  pilgrim  to 
depend.  From  the  days  of  Adam  to  the  present  tim^ 
-all  heaven-bound  pilgrims  have  used  this  staff.  It  is 
by  faith  they  use  it,  and  it  is  by  faith  they  lean  upon 
it.  There  is  no  staff  like  it.  This  staff  does  what  no 
other  staff  can  do.  The  young  pilgrim  not  only  leans 
upon  it,  and  rests  oipon  it,  but  he  derives  strength  from 
it.  This  staff  makes  him  vigorous.  It  makes  him 
lively.  It  makes  him  courageous.  And  it  drives  away 
all  his  fears.  Hear  how  sweetly  the  young  pilgrim 
sings,  while  he  leans  on  this  wonderful  staff. 

"  Amidst  the  darkness  and  the  deeps, 
Thou  art  my  comfort,  and  my  stay ; 
Thy  staff  supports  my  feeble  steps, 
Thy  rod  directs  my  doubtful  way." 

2d.  There  are  most  striking  Injscriptioiu  written 
upon  this  staff  by  the  finger  of  God.  Oh,  with  whit 
delight  the  young  pilgrim  reads  them !  'Come,  my 
young  friends,  and  look  at  them,  and  examine  them. 
Then  see  how  desirable  it  is  to  become  a  young  |hI- 
grivciy  and  to  have  and  use  the  young  pilgrim's  6ta£ 

Look  at  the  first  inscx\^\.\oTv\  Sx.  \a^  (^xod.  zz.2>) 
''  I  am  the  Lord  tby  God?'     ^V«X  ^^i^  \iw?k  '^wa^ 
-pilgrim  saj  when  lie  rea^a  t\v\a  m^^v^'Cvs^'l  .'^^w^ 


SSRMON.  117 

b,  how  blest  tun  I !    Jesus  is  mj  Lord  and  my 

I ;  Christ  is  mine,  and  I  am  his !" 

iook  at  the  second  inscription ;  it  is,  (Gen.  xv.  1 ,) 

ear  not,  I  am  thy  shield,  and  thine  exceeding  great 

ard."     What  does  the  young  pilgrim  say  when  he 

Is  this  ?     He  says,  "  I  am  safe,  for  ever  safe ;  with 

i  a  shield,  what  can  I  fear  ?     I  defy  Satan,  and  all 

hosts !" 

lOok  at  the  third  inscription;  it  is,  (Heb.  xiii.  5.) 

will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee."     What 

;  he  say  when  he  sees  this  animating  inscription  ? 

says,  "  I  can  fear  no  evil,  for  my  God  is  with  me ; 

rring  wisdom  is  my  guide,  and  almighty  power  is 

defence." 

lOok  at  the  fourth  inscription ;  it  is  this,  (Isn.  xliii.  2,) 

hen  thou  passes t  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with 

I ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow 

) ;  when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt 

be  burnt,  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee, 

any  heat."  What  does  the  young  pilgrim  say 
n  he  reads  this  lovely  inscription  ?  He  says,  and 
s,  "  Behold,  God  is  my  salvation ;  I  will  trust,  and 
be  afraid !  for  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  my  strength 
my  song,  he  also  is  become  my  salvation." 
ly  dear  young  friends,  rest  not  day  or  night,  till 

are  the  possessors  of  this  staff*.  Seek  it  from 
js.  Oh  !  seek  it  as  silver,  and  search  for  it  as  for 
len  treasures.  Seek,  and  you  shall  receive. 
1.  Let  us  now  consider  the  young  pilgrim's  Lamp. 
at  do  I  see  in  his  hand,  as  he  is  bending  his  course 
^ards  to  the  heavenly  city  ?  It  is  a  lamp ;  yes,  a 
p  of  exquisite  value,  workmanship,  and  beauty, 
ill  now  tell  you  what  the  lamp  is,  and  point  out  its 
silences  and  uses. 

St.  This  lamp  is  the  word  of  God.  Psal.  cxix.  105. 
hy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet,  and  a  li^ht  uivto 
path."     God  made  this  lamp,  and  it  ia  vtoyX^'^  ol 

who  made  It     In  its  light  and  purity  \t  >a^«c^  ^ 
tbJance  to  God,  who  is  the  perfection  ot  V\«.^aai, 


118  SERMON. 

and  the  perfection  of  holiness.  Hear  how  sweetly  th 
young  pilgrim  sings  of  this  lamp  of  lovely  form,  an 
of  heavenly  brightness  ;— 

"  Tis  like  the  stin,  a  heavenly  light. 
That  guides  me  all  the  day ; 
And,  through  the  dangers  of  the  night, 
A  lamp  to  lead  my  way." 

2d.  Great  are  the  excellences  and  uses  of  this  lam 

It  is  divine.     Its  materials  are  divine ;  and  it  is 
divine  workmanship.     God  made  the  lamp,  and  it 
worthy  of  its  Maker.     As  really  as  the  sun  is  wort! 
of  God  who  made  it,  this  lamp  is  worthy  of  God  wl 
made  it.      Its  excellences   proclaim,    "  Its  Maker 
divine." 

It  is  very  bright  It  is  full  of  light,  and  it  giT 
great  light.  It  shows  things  distant,  and  objects  net 
It  shows  present  dangers,  and  present  duties ;  and  i 
light  is  so  great,  and  so  bright,  and  so  powerful,  tii 
it  shows  things  and  objects  far,  very  far  distant.  Tl 
is  astonishing !  It  shows  heaven,  which  is  far,  f 
away.  It  shows  Jesus  on  the  throne  of  heaven ;  ai 
it  shows  saints  and  angels  worshipping  before  heavei 
glorious  throne.     Oh,  what  a  wonderful  lamp  is  thi 

This   lamp  never  leads  astray.     It  can   never 
broken,  and  it  can  never  be  put  out.     Its  light  is  fit 
heaven ;  and  this  light  shall  shine  brighter  than  t 
stars,  for  ever  and  ever. 

III.  We  may  now  consider  the  young  pilgrin 
GmDE. 

His  Guide  is  Jesus.     God  the  Father  has  kind 

given  his  Son  to  be  the  young  pilgrim's  guide.    1 

says,  (Isa.  Iv.  4,)   '*  Behold,  I  have  given  him  far 

witness  to  the  people,  a  leader  and  a  commander  to  tl 

people."     My  young  friends,  how  infinitely  kind  it 

in  God  to  give  you  such  a  guide!     Take  Jesus  as  yo 

g'uide ;  he  alone  can  guide  you  to  heaven.     None  el 

can ;  no,  not  even  t\ie  aiv^fe\a.    T>q  -^wv  -w^t  wish 

reach  heaven  when  you  die*^    0\\,  \)cv^Tv,'y\sftaftw3ft.'^ 

take  Jesus  to  be  your  guid^  ^^jivXt^  ^o>\\vi^\ 


SERMON.  119 

0  recommend  you  to  take  Jesus  as  your  guide,  I 
tell  you  some  of  his  excellences,  that  you  may  be 
uraged  to  place  yourselves  at  once  under  his  watch- 
guidance  and  gracious  care.  Carefully  attend  to 
ollowing  account  of  his  excellences  as  a  guide, 
e  is  a  wise  guide.  Amid  the  greatest  dangers,  and 
i^reatest  perplexities,  and  in  the  darkest  nijrht,  he 
>le  to  guide  you  with  the  utmost  safety.  This  he 
io,  for  he  is  the  "  only  wise  God  our  Saviour." 

e  is  a  powerful  guide.  He  is  the  "  Mighty  God," 
X.  6.  He  will  beat  down  all  your  spiritual  enemies 
the  dust.  "  He  is  the  Lord  strong  and  mighty,  the 
mighty  in  battle,"  Psalm  xxiv.  8.  Oh,  place 
selves  under  his  poweiiful  care  ! 
e  is  a  merciful  and  faithful  guide.  He  is  full  of 
y.  He  is  more  merciful  than  the  most  tender- 
:ed  mother  that  ever  lived ;  and  many  of  you  have 
3r-hearted  compassionate  mothers.  Come,  and  see 
kind  he  is  to  the  little  delicate  feeble  lambs  he 
is  to  heaven  : — 

**  See,  the  kind  Shepherd,  Jesus,  stands, 
With  all  engaging  chamiB; 
Hark!  how  he  calls  the  tender  Iambs, 
And  folds  them  in  his  arms.** 

place  yourselves  under    his    merciful,  faithful 

! 

• 

e  is  a  constant  guide.    He  never  gives  up,  he  never 
js  those  who  commit  themselves  to  his  care.    Hear 
the  young  pilgrim  says,  (Ps.  xlviii.  14 ;)  "  For 
God  is  our  God  for  ever  and  ever ;  he  will  be  our 
3  even  unto  death."     Be   persuaded,   my  young 
ds,  to  place  yourselves  under  this  constant  guide, 
be  will  lead  you  at  last  to  your  heavenly  home. 
T,  Let  us  consider  the  young  pilgrim's  Food. 
le  7vord  of  God  is  the  food  of  his  soul.     As  really 
is  body  is  fed,  nnd  iiouHshed,  and  corcv^oxV^^  Vj 
-al  food,  8o  his  soul  is  fed,   and  T\ouT\s\ie^,  «cv\ 
rted  bjr  the  word  of  God.     What  does  \\xe  ^ovxxv^ 


inises,  and  leeds  upon  tnem.     men  nis  sou 
within  him,  and  he  is  filled  with  heavenly  joy 

Divine  precepts  are  his  food.  The  youn 
says  that  these  precepts  are  sweeter  to  his  i 
honey,  yea,  even  than  the  honey-comb.  Y< 
dren,  may  you  feed  upon  the  divine  precepts 
may  you  think  upon  them,  admire  them,  and 
them.  Then  you  will  **  run  in  the  way  of  G 
mandments,**  with  liveliness  and  vigour. 

What  is  the  most  wonderful  of  all,  the  y 
grim  feeds  on  Jesus,  Have  you  not  read  tha 
the  "  bread  of  life  ?"  Jesus  calls  himself  th- 
life,  John  vi.  48 :  "I  am  that  bread  of  life ; 
"  I  am  the  living  bread  which  came  down  froi 
if  any  man  eat  of  this  bread  he  shall  live  for 
the  bread  which  I  will  give  is  my  flesh,  wh 
give  for  th^  life  of  the  world."  Now,  is  not 
derful,  that  a  young  pilgrim  should  feed  o 
But  what  is  it  to  feed  on  Christ  ?  It  is  to 
him  as  our  Saviour.    It  is  to  trust  in  him  ;  it 


SERMON.  121 

irm  of  Jesus;  therefore  he  is  not  afraid.     Hear 
he  sings  in  the  valley  : — 

*'  Though  I  walk  through  the  gloomy  vale, 
Whore  cleath  and  all  its  terrors  are^ 
Hj  heart  and  hope  shall  never  fail, 
For  Christ  my  Shepherd 's  with  me  there." 

.  At  the  farther  end  of  the  valley  is  the  pearly  gate 
aven.  When  the  young  pilgrim  enters  the  valley 
e  shadow  of  death,  Jesus  says  to  him,  '*  Behold 
er  lovely  pearly  gate."  The  young  pilgrim  looks, 
It  the  end  of  the  valley  he  sees  a  gate  more  glo- 
than  the  starry  sky.  He  sees  angels  standing  at 
ate.  Then  he  says,  in  holy  rapture,  "  Soon  I  shall 
through  that  pearly  gate.  Soon  I  shall  enter  the 
ial  city.  Soon  I  shall  be  ever  with  the  Lord." 
5t,  he  reaches  the  end  of  the  valley ;  angels^ ead 
through  the  gate ;  they  conduct  him  to  the  throne 
the  hallelujahs  of  the  blest. 
[.  Lastly,  consider  the  young  pilgrim's  Home. 
iaven  is  his  home.  Jesus  has  prepared  this  home, 
lys,  (John  xiv.  2,)  "I go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you." 
a  holy  home  ;  there  is  no  sin  there.  It  is  a  safe 
! ;  there  is  no  enemy  there.  It  is  a  happy  home ; 
:  is  no  sorrow  there.  It  is  an  eternal  home.  You 
leave  your  earthly  home,  my  dear  young  friends ; 
f  you  become  young  pilgrims,  you  shall  reach  a 
;nly  home,  which  you  shall  never  leave. 
1 !  seek  grace,  that  you  may  do  two  things,  then 
en  will  be  your  holy,  happy,  and  eternal  home< 
ive  Jesus  as  yours ;  give  yourselves  to  Jesus  as  his, 
in  the  hopes  of  heaven,  you  will  sweetly  sing : — 


ft 


Up  to  my  home,  beyond  the  skies. 
My  hasty  feet  would  go, 

There  everlasting  flowers  arise, 
And  joys  unwith'ring  grow." 


SACRED  BOTANY. 


"  And  they  wune  unto  the  brook  of  Eihcol,  and  cut  d< 
thence  a  branch  viih  one  cluster  nf  grapes,  sad  they  bi 
tween  two  upon  a  gtaff."— A'umfi.  liii.  23. 

Gbapbs  are  the  fruit  of  the  vine,  a  very  ] 
tree,  and  frequently  mentioned  in  the  Holy  Scr 
A-t  present,  I  shall  say  little  about  the  vine  it 
on  some  future  occasion,  I  may  furnish  a  full. 
of  the  history  of  this  remarkable  tree.  Grapes 
clusters.  As  to  many  trees,  their  fruit  grows  in  a< 
detached,  scattered  state  upon  the  branches,— 
cbenies,  pears^  and  8Lp^\ea, — Wv  %t^-^5  (^row  an 
in  clusters,  rich,  pleaBing,  anA  ¥a.\>.fTO%Vi'CD&< 
can  flcarcely  imagine  anyftiing  m  ft^e. -^•t^'Sa 


8ACSED  BOTAKT.  123 

agreeable  to  the  eye  as  bunches  or  clusters  of 
uspended  from  the  branches  of  the  wide -spread- 
• 

)&  contain  that  rich,  delicious,  and  generous 
hich  in  a  fermented  state  constitutes  wine. 
"^as  firuit  so  honoured;  for  it  is  employed,  ac- 
to  the  example  of  our  Lord,  as  an  element  in 
ament  of  the  Supper,  to  represent  that  blood 
ur  Saviour  shed,  to  make  atonement  for  the 
len. 

and  Judaea  are  those  portions  of  the  globe 
rapes  have  been  produced  in  the  greatest  excel- 
id  abundance.  At  Damascus,  the  capital  of 
•unches  are  often  found  to  weigh  each  from 
to  thirty  pounds.  Modern  travellers  relate 
seen  bunches  of  grapes  in  the  mountains  of 
vhich  measured  half  an  ell  in  length. 
Qost  remarkable  example  of  the  largest  clusters 
s  is  that  recorded  in  the  book  of  Numbers,  and 
irly  stated  in  the  passage  of  Scripture  at  the 
cement  of  this  article.  One  bunch  was  gathered 
T^alley  of  Eshcol,  and  so  rich  and  heavy,  that 
i  were  employed  to  carry  it,  and  the  branch  to 
i;  was  suspended,  upon  a  staff,  to  the  camp  of 
b  Kadesh-barnea.  Travellers  affirm,  that  in  the 
►f  Eshcol  there  are  bunches  of  grapes  to  be 
ill,  of  ten  and  twelve  pounds  weight, 
ripture,  an  almost  total  destruction  is  described 
le  completely  stripped  of  its  grapes,  so  that 
re  left  for  the  gleaner.  Isa.  xxiv.  13 :  "  Thus 
3e  in  the  midst  of  the  land  among  the  people ; 
all  be  as  the  gleaning  grapes,  when  the  vintage 
"  And  Jer.  vi.  9 :  "  They  shall  thoroughly 
e  remnant  of  Israel  as  a  vine." 
I's  prosperity  is  thus  described  by  Jacob,  when 
ed  his  sons  before  his  death.  Gen.  xlix.  11: 
ig  his  foal  unto  the  vine,  and  Ins  a^.^'^  c^X. 
choice  vine;  he  washed  his  gamaeiita  m'mu^ 
'othes  in  the  bloody"  or  juice,  "  of  gra^^r 


—    o 


most  diligent  and  spiritual  in  the  observan 
ordinances  of  religion.  Then  young  saints 
fruitful  vines,  bearing  goodly  clusters  of 
grapes. 

I  '  In  Rev.  xiv.  18 — 20,  the  gathering  of  the  rip 
of  the  vine,  is  employed  to  point  out  the  a 
overwhelming  judgments  which  God  will  br 
on  the  heads  of  those,  who  have  attempted  t 
the  Church,  and  to  ensnare  the  souls  of  m< 
stroying  errors ;  and  who  have  persecuted  to 
those,  who  would  not  be  earned  away  by  t 
doctrines  and  idolatrous  superstitions.  "  An 
angel  cried  with  a  loud  voice  to  him  that  had 
sickle,  saying,  Thrust  in  thy  sharp  sickle,  ai 
the  clusters  of  the  vine  of  the  earth ;  for  h 
are  fully  ripe.  And  the  angel  thrust  in  his  a 
the  earth,  and  gathered  the  vine  of  the  earth 
it  into  the  great  wine-press  of  the  wrath  of  G 
the  wine-press  was  trodden  without  the  city,  i 


FIGURATIVE  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  BIBLE.      126 

comforting  mercy,  and  then  sings,  in  ecstasies  of 

^yjoj— 

"  Awake,  my  heart,  arise,  my  tongue. 
Prepare  a  tuneful  voice. 
In  Christ,  the  life  of  all  my  joys. 
Aloud  will  I  rejoice." — Watts,  Book  I.  H.  xx.  ver.  1. 


GURATIVE    ILLUSTRATIONS    OF    THE 
BIBLE,  IN  ALPHABETICAL  ORDER. 

r  is  my  intention,  from  time  to  time,  to  present  in 
work  the  excellences  of  the  Bible.  These  excel- 
es  are  numerous,  various,  and  striking.  I  shall 
Dduce  them  in  alphabetical  order.  Young  friends, 
n  you  read  them  with  the  eye  of  your  body,  may 
see  them  with  the  eye  of  your  mind  !  May  you 
ire  them,  believe  them,  and  enjoy  them !  Oh  I 
you  be  able  to  say,  with  pious  Cowper, 

'*  A  glory  gilds  the  sacred  page. 
Majestic,  like  the  sun ; 
It  gives  a  light  to  every  age — 
it  gives,  but  borrows  none." 

A. 

nder  words  beginning  with  the  letter  A,  the  Bible 
be  described  as  an  Adamantine  Rock,  as  Apparel, 
n  Appeal  from  God  to  man,  as  an  Apple  Tree,  as 
Irmoury,  as  an  Arrow,  as  Artillery,  and  as  our 
irance  of  God's  mercy  and  truth. 
DAMAN  TINE  RoCK. — The  adamant  is  the' diamond, 
bardest,  the  brightest,  and  the  most  valuable  of 
ous  stones.     The  word  adamantine  is  taken  irom 
vord  adamant.     The  Bible  is  a  hard  rock,  which 
dwer  can  break.     It  is  an  adamantine  rock,  which 
Etrthquake  can  tear  asunder.     Satan,  and  mMs^^^ 
ricked  men,  have  long  tried  to  shake  and  ove.TV.vxTia. 
Tck.  :  But  all  In  vain.     It  is  firm,  and  aut^  «^^ 


126  FIGURATIVE   ILLUSTRATIONS 

God's  throne.  Dear  young  friends,  build  your  hopes 
on  this  glorious  adamantine  Rock  of  truth  divine. 
Isa.  xliv.  8 :  "  The  word  of  our  God  shall  stand  for 


ever." 


"  Pass  away  this  earth  and  heayen  ! 

This  Word  can  ne'er  be  overthrown  ; 
Stands  the  Truth  by  Jesus  given 
Firm  as  his  eternal  throne."—  C.  Wesley. 

Apparel. — The  soul  needs  apparel  as  well  as. the 
body.  Clothings  or  apparel,  is  found  in  the  word  of 
God  suited  for  the  soul.  The  apparel  of  the  body  does 
three  things.  It  protects,  it  comforts,  it  adorns.  So 
does  spiritual  apparel  to  the  soul.  But  what  apparel 
is  found  in  God's  word  suited  to  the  soul  ?  When  the 
word  of  God  is  blessed  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  fur- 
nishes the  following  beautiful  garments— Divine  know- 
ledge, wisdom,  and  grace.  Oh,  what  comely  apparel  is 
this!  When  the  soul  receives  this  apparel,  it  is  de- 
fended, it  is  comforted,  it  is  adorned.  Dear  young 
friends,  may  this  comely  apparel  be  yours!  This 
apparel  is  white  and  glorious.  K  it  is  yours,  you 
"  shall  shine  like  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever."  Dan. 
xii.  3. 

Appeal. — ^What  is  an  appeal?  It  is  this:  when 
you  call  upon  a  person's  judgment  or  conscience  to 
witness  to  the  truth  of  what  you  say.  Now,  the  Bible 
is  God's  appeal  to  our  judgment,  our  heart,  and  our 
conscience,  as  to  the  truth  of  what  he  says.  The  Bible 
is  full  of  God's  solemn,  just,  and  merciful  appeals. 
Observe  the  follovnng : — 

He  appeals  to  us,  as  to  our  disobedience  and  rebel- 
lion. He  says,  (Isa.  i.  2,)  "  I  have  brought  up  children, 
and  they  have  rebelled  against  me."  He  appeals  to  us, 
as  to  his  willingness  to  save,  and  wash  away  the  sins 
of  repenting  sinners.  He  says,  (Isa.  i.  18,)  "  Come  now, 
and  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord ;  though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as  snow ;  though 
thejr  be  red  like  crimson,  tbey  sWW.  \i^  «&  ^^^"^  l&?j 
j-oung  friends,  offer  up  to  Jesua  t\ve  i^om^^  Y"^-^^' 


OF  THE   BIBLE.  127 

"  Jesus,  to  thy  wounds  I  fly, 
Purge  my  sins  of  scarlet  dye ; 
Lamb  of  God,  for  siimers  slain, 
Wash  away  my  crimson  stain  I" — C.  Wesley. 

Apple  Tree. — What  precious  apples!  what  deli- 
cious fruits  grow  on  this  majestic  tree,  the  Word  of 
God!  Here  are  to  be  gathered  the  fruits  of  know- 
ledge, and  wisdom,  and  hope,  and  purity,  and  consola- 
tion, and  peace.  What  goodly,  what  precious  apples 
are  these !  Long  this  stately  tree  has  stood.  It  has 
never  shown  one  withered  branch ;  no,  nor  one  withered 
leaf.  Many  hundreds  of  years  it  has  stood  the  storms 
of  time,  and  it  is  as  fruitful  as  ever.  My  young  friends, 
bve  this  tree.  Rest  under  its  shady  branches.  Oh,  pluck 
it3  precious  fruit !  Happy,  happy  is  that  youth,  who 
can  say  respecting  this  stately,  this  noble  tree,  "  I  have 
}ften  sat  down  under  its  shadow  with  great  delight,  and 
its  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste."    Song  ii.  3, 

"  See,  how  this  tree  of  knowledge  grows. 
And  yields  a  free  repast ! 
Sublimer  sweets  than  nature  knows 
Invite  the  longing  taste." — Steele. 


MISSIONARY  FACTS. 


MADAGASCAB. 


It  is  only  a  few  years  since  many  native  Christians  in  Mada- 
iscar  were  cruelly  put  to  death  by  the  order  of  the  idolatrous 
leen.  Others  were  successful  in  escaping  from  the  island,  and 
siting  Great  Britain.  Blessed  changes  have  taken  place  since 
le  martyrs'  blood  has  been  shed.  The  queen's  son,  and  the  heir 
)parent  to  the  throne,  has  shown  evidence  that  divine  grace  has 
ached  his  heart  He  worships  with  the  Christians  of  the  island ; 
id  he  has  been  instrumental  in  preserving  their  lives,  when 
olatrous  priests  wished  the  queen  to  give  orders  for  putting 
em  to  death.  Soon  we  may  learn,  that  those  >R\io  Ml  \.Vi<^ 
land  are  active  missionaries  in  their  native  land.  N^^  TGk&'^ 
m  bear  of  the  banners  of  salvation  waving  on  tVie  swTaniSX»  ^1 
mountaim,  and  on  the  pinnacles  of  the  palaces  «ad  ^itm^Va. 


128  MISSIOXABY   FACTS. 

Oh,  may  we  live  to  hear  that  the  pagan  queen  hai 
follower  of  Jesas,  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of 
young  friends,  unite  with  me  in  uttering  your  hearty 

"  Fly  abroad,  thou  mighty  Qoq>e]« 
Win  and  conquer,  never  cease ! " 

NEW  CHAPEL  AT  HONG* KONG. 

Hong-Kong  is  a  small  island.,  given  by  treaty  to 
Government  by  the  Emperor  of  China.  It  is  situate 
the  main  land,  and  it  is  most  admirably  fitted  for  i 
station.  The  best  Missionary  Societies,  of  this  and 
tries,  have  sent  missionaries  to  that  island.  There 
Missionary  Society  have  a  college,  in  which  native 
trained  for  preaching  the  Gospel  in  that  vast  emp: 
they  belong.  Lately,  the  missionaries  of  this  muc 
Society  have  erected,  and  opened  a  chapel,  in  the  t 
toria,  in  this  island.  It  was  opened  on  the  first  ' 
last  May.  It  seats  al)out  300  pei-sons.  It  was  croi 
opening  to  excess,  and  multitudes  assembled  on 
What  is  considered  not  only  wonderful,  but  hopeful, 
twenty  Chinese  women  were  present.  Such  a  circui 
never  witnessed  before  in  any  Christian  assembly  ii 
great  part  of  the  service  was  conducted  by  native  Oh 
tians.  How  encouraging !  Chin  Seen  delivered  : 
mating,  scriptural,  and  striking  address.  May  we 
this,  as  the  first  fruits  of  a  glorious  harvest  ?  Oh,  wl 
prospects  open  to  our  view  !  The  time  will  com< 
hundreds  of  millions  of  China's  inhabitants  shal! 
homage  at  Immanuel's  feet ! 

INDIA  AND  orphans. 

There  is  a  town  in  our  East  Indian  dominions  < 
One  of  the  most  interesting  spectacles  in  this  town  is 
Orphan  School.  This  has  been  formed  for  the  benel 
pagan  orphans.  Both  male  and  female  orphans  i 
under  the  roof  of  this  building  of  mercy.  They  rec 
education,  and  they  are  taught  trades  and  useful  ei 
More  especially  they  are  trained  up  in  the  knowle 
and  the  way  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ 
there  are  ten  hopeful  youths  in  a  course  of  preparatit 
Christian  missionaries,  to  preach  in  these  heathen  n 
unsearchable  riches  of  Christ."  Such  an  institution 
sun  shining  in  the  dark  firmament  of  heathenian 
blessing  of  God,  this  sun  will  be  instrumental  in  i 
peiling  the  gloomy  clouds  of  pagan  ignorance,  id 
wretchedness.     "  God  o^  88\N2»\i\oii,\i\Q»^  \}aft  ^"e»x  <ict 

them  thy  children,  and.  ou\.  ot  \Xx«a  mwi>^iA  ^<;k  ^ 

pniae  I   Amen.'* 


SACBED  ZOOLOGY, 

THB  PE^COUE. 

"  QaTeat  thou  the  goodly  winga  unto  tie  Peacocta!" 

Johix^x.  18. 

Pbtlosophsrs  have  divided  birds  of  all  kinds  into 
isses,  or  families..  The  order,  genus,  or  class,  to 
lich  the  Peacock  belongs,  is  called  Oall'ma.  As  to 
a  .bead  of  ^is  bird,  it  is  adorned  with  a  crown, 
lich  greatly  adds  to  the  nobleness  of  its  appearfloce. 
us  crown  consists  of  feathers  in  the  form  of  a  plume, 
wt  elegantly  axr&nged.  The  plumage  of  l\i\a\ni^''Vi 
0tgoi^eoaa:  we  see  in  it  a  combination  oi  t\v6  o^*'*' 
i/f  and  glowing   colours.       Thece    ia    ttie  ' 


130  SERMON.  ^ 

emerald,  the  sapphire  or  sky-hlue,  the  purple,  and  tiie 
burnished  gold.  The  tail  is  long,  showing  all  the  Tt- 
rieties  of  the  richest  colours ;  and  these  are  so  arranged, 
that  they  have  the  appearance  of  living  eyes.  This  i[ 
reminds  us  of  the  description  given  of  the  Cherabim,  (in 
in  Rev.  iv.  8 :  **  And  the  four  living  creatures  had  eadi  |  ] 
of  them  six  wings  about  him ;  and  they  were  full  of 
eyes  within.'*  The  wings  of  the  Peacock  are  mixed 
with  the  colours  of  azure  and  of  gold.  Such  is  tiie 
beauty  of  this  bird,  that  no  adequate  description  can  be 
given  by  the  pen  of  the  poet,  or  the  pencil  of  the  artist 
*^  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of 
these."  Still  it  has  not  every  accomplishment  Its 
voice  is  most  harsh  and  unmusical.  It  is  described 
by  some,  as  "  having  the  head  of  a  serpent,  the  train  of  ;«! 
an  angel,  and  the  voice  of  a  demon." 

Peacocks  are  very  numerous  in  the  East  Indies,  ind 
are  found  wild  in  immense  flocks  in  Java  and  Ceyko. 
When  Alexander  the  Great  was  in  the  East,  he  was  so 
delighted  with  these  birds,  that  he  gave  to  his  arm/ 
strict  charges  not  to  kill  them. 

Many  resemble  the  Peacock.  All  their  omameitt 
are  outward  ;  they  have  comely  looks,  rich  and  gndy 
apparel.  The  moment  they  speak,  they  display  tbesr 
ignorance,  conceit,  pride,  and  folly.  Young  firiendSj 
commit  your  souls  to  Jesus,  and  he  will  beautify  them 
with  comely  graces.  The  glowing  loveliness  of  yonth 
shall  fade  and  perish,  but  these  graces  which  Christ 
bestows  shall  shine  brighter  than  the  stars,  for  ever  and 
ever. 


SERMON  IX. 

THE   CHUBCH   THE   CITY  OF   THE   GREAT   KINO. 
"  The  city  of  the  great  king."— P«iZ.  xlyiiL  2. 

'    The  City  mentioned  in  our  text  is  the  Church,  and 

the  Great  King  is  Jeaua.     Tt^flX-^,  ^^ws>&\i  the  6i«< 

King  of  a  Great  City .    TY^et^  lie^ecHi^  ^\y^^^^S2g% 

and  there  never  waa  a\xt\i  «^  C»Vt^-    ^waa^Sa^*** 


8EBM0N.  131 

18  King,  **  He  is  the  Lord  of  hosts,  he  is  the  king 
ly,**  PsaL  xxiv.  10.  The  Church  is  a  most 
IS  City,  *'  Glorious  things  are  spoken  of  thee,  O 

God.     Selah."    Psal.  Ixxxvii.  3. 
read  of  many  remarkable  cities  in  the  word  of 

Babylon,  the  capital  of  Chaldea,  was  a  remark- 
ty.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  wall  sixty  miles  in 
,  and  from  the  foundation  four  hundred  feet  high, 
eh,  the  capital  of  Assjrria,  was  a  remarkable  city. 

a  city  of  seven  days'  journey.  Tyre  and  Sidon 
remarkable  cities ;  remarkable  for  trade,  for 
,  and  for  povirer.  These  cities  in  their  greatest 
}ur,  power,  and  wealth,  were  nothing,  less  than 
g  and  vanity,  compared  with  the  Church,  the 
f  the  Great  King.  The  wealth  of  these  cities 
more,  but  the  wealth  of  this  Great  City  shall 
fade  away.  The  glory  of  these  cities  is  no  more, 
e  glory  of  this  Great  City  shall  shine  brighter 
he  stars  for  ever  and  ever.     These  cities  them* 

are  no  more,  but  this  Great  City  shall  stand 
3r.  Oh  what  a  wonderful  city  is  this !  May  you, 
ung  friends,  belong  to  this  city.  Then  you  shall 
for  ever  the  blessedness  of  heaven.  Come  and 
^ith  me  on  this  wonderful  City* 

'*  Let  strangers  walk  around 
The  city  where  we  dwell, 
Compass  and  view  the  holy  ground. 
And  mark  the  buildings  well.** — Psal.  zlviii, 

ly  of  you  know  what  we  mean  by  the  Church. 
I  to  ask  you  what  is  the  Church,  some  of  you 

give  me  the  following  answer, — The  Church 
;s  all  God's  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  con- 

of  holy  men,  holy  women,  holy  youths,  and  holy 
m.   The  word  city  has  two  meanings,  it  signifies 

buildings  of  a  city, — ^thus  all  the  buildings  of 
London  consists,  are  called  the  cityof  London,— <- 
.ose  who  inbabit  a  city  are  called  a  city,    "^^^ 
'  city  of  London  sends  four  membexa  \.o '^w'Vlv 
that  is,  the  inhabitants  or  citizens, 

K  2 


l32  1§ERM0K. 

In  speaking  of  i^e  Chnrch,  as  the  City  of  the  Great 
King,  there  are  two  things  I  wish  you  to  consider.  The 
1)uilding8  of  the  City  of  the  Great  King,  these  form  the 
first.  Now  by  the  buildings  we  are  to  understand 
its  walls,  its  gates,  and  its  ordinances.  The  second 
thing  to  be  considered  consists  of  the  citizens  or  saints. 
•Sometimes  the  first  is  called  the  city,  as  in  Isa.  xxvi.  1 : 
•"  We  have  a  strong  city  :  salvation  will  God  appoint 
for  walls  and  bulwarks."  And  often  all  the  people  of 
'God  are  <;alled  by  this  name.  Thus  we  find  it  in  tie 
following  very  beautiful  passage,  (Isa.  Ix.  14,)  "  And 
they  shall  call  Thee  the  City  of  the  Lord,  the  Zion 
£)f  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.'* 

In  speaking  in  this  sermon  of  the  City  of  the  Great 
King,  I  shall  keep  both  these  meanings  in  view. 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  will  now 
direct  your  attention,  1st,  to  the  Builder  of  the  City; 
2d,  to  the  Inhabitants  of  the  City;  and  3d,  to  the  Road 
leading  to  the  City.  Other  particulars  will  be  considered 
in  a  following  discourse. 

F^irsf, — Consider  the  Builder  of  the  City.  Heb.  xi. 
10:  Its  "Builder  and  Maker  is  God."  It  was  God 
who  contrived  the  plan  of  the  building.  As  he  con- 
trived the  plan  of  the  tabernacle,  and  gave  it  to  Moses, 
and  as  he  contrived  the  plan  of  the  temple,  and  gave  it 
to  David,  so  he  contrived  and  made  the  plan  of  this 
Great  City  the  Church.  Men  who  contrive  the  plan 
of  great  buildings,  such  as  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  they 
do  not,  they  cannot  build  them  with  their  own  hands. 
But  God  is  both  the  contriver  and  the  builder  of  the 
City  of  the  Great  King.  Let  us  admire  Jesus  as  the 
T5ontriver  of  the  City,  and  let  us  admire  him  as  the 
builder  of  the  City.  Let  us  admire  the  wisdom  which 
laid  the  plan,  and  let  us  admire  the  gracious  and  almighty 
power  which  completed  the  plan. 
•  Secondlt/y — ^Let  us  consider  the  Inhabitants  of  the 
^/^.  All  believers  are  citizens  o£  this  city.  There 
Af  not  a  single  unbeliever  wilhm  tVi^  ^«3^a.    *YW^ 

apostle  speaks  of  them,  (E^^Yi.  Vi.  \^,^  ^^^o^^ 


S£RHON»  133 

therefore,  ye  are  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners,  but 
fellow-citizens  with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of 
Gk)d." 

There  is  a  large  town  very  near  the  walls  of  the  city, 
called  Profession  Town,  The  inhabitants  bear  sorae 
outward  resemblance  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  King's- 
Great  City ;  they  dress  like  them,  and  talk  like  them, 
and  sing  like  them,  and  walk  like  them  ;  they  very 
much  resemble  the  citizens,  but  in  their  heart  and 
affections  they  bear  no  resemblance.  They  are  very  fond 
of  Profession  Town,  Often  the  saints  ask  them  to' 
leave  it,  and  come  and  live  with  them,  within  the  walls 
of  the  Great  City.  But  they  never  will  consent,  until 
grace  changes  their  hearts.  When  grace  does  change 
their  hearts,  then  they  leave  Profession  Town,  and  all 
their  old,  proud,  self-conceited  acquaintances,  and  enter 
into  the  City  of  the  Great  King,  the  Church  of  the^ 
Livhig  God.  Blessed  change  !  They  are  no  more 
strangers  and  foreigners,  but  become  fellow-citizens 
with  the  saints.  Beloved  young  friends,  may  the 
Holy  Spirit  persuade  you  to  enter  the  city — to  become 
its  citizens.  Then  a  sun  of  spiritual  prosperity  shall 
rise  upon  you,  which  will  never  set. 

Thirdly, — Let  us  look  on  the  Road  which  leads  ta 
this  city.  Repentance  is  the  name  of  the  road.  The 
one  end  of  the  road  leads  from  the  City  of  Destruc-. 
tion,  and  the  other  to  the  City  of  Salvation.  By  the 
City  of  Destruction  we  mean  a  state  of  nature,  that 
deplorable  state  in  which  Adam  by  his  fall  left  himself 
and  all  his  posterity.  They  who  walk  on  the  road  of 
Repentance  appear  sad.  sorrowful,  and  thoughtfuU. 
Why  are  they  so  sad  ?  Because  they  are  convinced  of 
sin ;  because  they  see  they  have  offended  a  holy,  a  just, 
and  a  merciful  God.  Listen,  and  you  will  hear  some 
of  them  say,  like  the  prodigal  son,  *'  Father,  we  have 
sinned  against  heaven  and  in  thy  sight,  and  are  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  thy  sona."  Luk^  xn.  ^V*  \i«»\fi2ew> 
and  you  will  hear  another  say,  w\t\i  dovnv^J-Wfe^-  ^1^"^  *^ 
with  a  heavy  heart,  '*  Lord,  have  m^cy  Quxofc  iik«vos>w^^' 


.**  V 


134  SERMON. 

Luke  xviii.  13.  Listen,  and  you  will  hear  another  say, 
"  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?*"  Acts  xvi.  30.  Ab 
they  are  travelling  along  the  road  of  repentance,  they 
see  the  City  of  the  Great  King  at  a  distance,  and  they 
say,  with  longing,  anxious  hearts,  "  Shall  we  ever  enter 
that  noble  city,  the  City  of  Salvation  ?*'  Then  they  lieir 
the  sweet  voice,  the  kind  invitations  of  mercy  saying 
to  them,  '^  Enter  in,  ye  humble,  penitent  souls  ;  there 
is  room  for  you  :  stand  no  longer  without ;  escape  for 
your  lives." 

"  Lift  up  the  everlasting  gates^ 
The  doors  wide  open  fling. 
Enter,  ye  sinners,  and  obey 
The  statutes  of  your  King." 

Watts,  Hymn  8,  pi  1. 

Speaking  in  the  language  of  figure,  this  road  of 
gospel  repentance  leads  through  a  very  lowly  valley. 
Its  name  is,  the  Valley  of  Humility.  None  ever  entered 
the  City  of  the  Great  King  without  passing  throo^ 
that  valley.  Young  convinced  sinners,  while  waUdDf 
through  this  valley  towards  the  City  of  Salvation,  see  sis 
as  they  never  saw  it  before  ;  and  see  themselves  as  tiiej 
never  saw  before.  They  see  sin  as  vile,  abominaU^ 
dangerous,  destructive.  They  see  that  it  is  an  evil 
thing,  and  a  bitter  thing.  They  see  that  it  is  a  molt 
loathsome  disease,  that  it  is  a  spreading  leprosy.  Th^ 
see  that  it  is  hateful,  most  hateful  and  offensive  to  GoOp 
They  see  that  it  shuts  the  gates  of  heaven,  that  it  opeos 
the  gates  of  hell,  and  that  it  kindles  the  flames  of 
Tophet.  0  my  young  friends,  have  you  obtained  this 
sight  ? 

Young  convinced  sinners,   travelling  through  Ae 

Valley  of  Humiliation,  see  themselves  as  they  never  saw 

before.   Once  they  thought  highly  of  themselves  ;  now, 

they  look  upon  themselves  as  altogether  an  nndean 

tlung.     Once  they  admired  their  own  righteousness 

and  supposed  it  wouVd  \>e  ^wi&CA^tLV.  "^^as^^ts.  \a  beaven. 

But  hear  hov7  they  now  ai^es^sLX  IV^s^  %«^V)^^«ir 

feigned  sincerity  of  bou\,  (J^fta-Viv^.^s^j^^^^x.^^^^ 


SERMON.  135 

as  an  unclean  thing,  and  all  our  nghteounesses  are  as 
filthy  rags.*'  When  these  thoughts  fill  their  minds,  and 
when  these  words  fall  from  their  lips,  they  are  drawing 
very  near  the  gates  of  the  City  of  the  Great  King. 

Passing  through  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  along  the 
road  of  Repentance,  the  young  penitent  travellers  some- 
times hear  tremendous  peals  of  thunder,  and  they 
sometimes  see  alarming  flashes  of  lightning.  At 
times  they  are  so  afraid,  that  they  are  heard  crying 
out,  ''  Lord,  come  to  our  help.  Jesus,  save  ;  else  we 
perish  !"  The  thunders  are  the  thunders  of  God's 
broken  law.  They  are  the  thunders  of  the  law  as  a 
broken  covenant  of  works.  They  hear  the  thunders 
from  a  neighbouring  mountain.  The  name  is  Mount 
Sinai.  The  thunder  speaks  !  What  is  its  voice  ?  It 
is  this,  (Gtil.  iii.  10,)  "  For  as  many  as  are  of  the  works 
of  the  law,  are  under  the  curse."  That  Is,  **  as  many  as 
are  seeking  salvation  by  the  works  of  the  law,  are 
under  the  curse."  The  thunder  says  more  ;  it  says  this, 
'^  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things 
written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them,"  The 
young  convinced  penitent  says,  "This  I  cannot  do; 
if  there  is  no  other  way  of  being  saved  but  this,  I  am 
ruined  for  ever  ;  if  there  is  no  other  way  of  getting 
into  the  City  of  the  Great  King  but  this,  I  must  perish 
for  ever."  Then  one  of  the  ministers  of  the  King  of 
the  city  comes  unto  him  in  this  state  of  perplexity  and 
fear,  and  says  to  him,  '^  Cheer  up,  young  penitent ;  what 
you  cannot  do,  Jesus  has  done  for  you.  Cheer  up ;  Christ 
hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made 
a  curse  for  us  ;  for  it  is  written,  Cursed  is  every  one 
that  hangeth  on  a  trea"  Do  you  see  yonder  gate 
which  leads  into  the  city  ?  That  is  the  strait  gate  of 
Conversion.  Look  to  the  Holy  Spirit  for  grace,  that  . 
you  may  strive  to  reach  the  gate.  Look  to  him,  and  he 
will  lead  you  to  the  gate ;  yes,  and  he  will  lead  you 
through  the  gate  into  the  City  of  the  Great  Kvr.%\  «sA. 
there  you  shall  be  safe,  for  ever  sate.  "B^  liQ't  ^vajwsva^:^^. 
Strive — strive,  and  assuredly  you  di^  ^\iX^it*\sir 


HIRACULOU8  DRAUGHT   OF   FISHES.  187 

^  I  see  some  on  the  road  of  Repentance,  who  have 
jW  lately  escaped  from  the  City  of  Destruction.  Satan 
his  sent  some  of  his  servants  after  them  to  advise 
tb^m  to  return.  They  tell  them,  that  if  they  will  only 
ff/bftTDf  they  shall  receive  wealth,  and  pleasures,  and 
Ilf)|b0fir8b  Ohy  how  earnestly  they  are  entreating  them 
iQ;j||bliim  I  and  besides,  they  are  pouring  into  their 
NHf^neh  falsehoods  about  the  City  of  the  Great  King. 
Ej^y  say  that  there  is  no  pleasure,  no  happiness,  in  that 

S«  .  They  say  that  all  the  inhabitants  are  gloomy,^ 
"BiorOBe,  and  melancholy.  And  were  it  not  for 
lOdTB-great  mercy,  they  would  be  in  danger  of  believing 
hi0e  lUsehoods,  and  returning  to  their  old  quarters  in 
l|*  City  of  Destruction.  But  the  King  of  the  City  of 
idTAtiQU  sends  his  servants,  to  warn  them  against 
lie  lies  of  Satan's  servants.  These  servants  come 
out  in  time  for  their  deliverance,  and  say,  (Prov. 
.  10^  13,  15),  ^'  If  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou 
tdt,  If  they  say,  We  shall  find  all  precious  sub- 
tlUioe  ;  we  shall  fill  our  houses  with  spoil :  My  son, 
ralk  not  in  the  way  with  them  ;  refrain  thy  foot  from 
heir  path.**  Thus  they  are  encouraged  to  proceed 
nward  to  the  City  of  the  Great  King. 

(To  be  continued.) 


liimACULOUS  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES. 

were  two  occasions  when  there  was  a  miraculous 
iraught  of  fishes.  The  first  was  at  the  beginning 
f  our  Saviour's  public  ministry;  the  second  was 
ifter  onr  Lord's  resurrection,  and  a  few  days  before 
lis  glorious  ascension  to  heaven.  The  former  is  re- 
ated  by  Luke  (v.  4 — 10)  ;  the  latter  is  recorded  by 
John,  (xxi.  1 — 11.)  In  both  the  narratives,  Peter 
occupies  a  conspicuous  place.  In  the  first  miracle, 
two  small  fishing  boats  were  so  full  that  t\\ey  \>^^«a 
'ogj'nk :  In  the  second  miracle,  the  fishes  wer^  (\.t«l%*^«^ 
shore  in  a  net. 


138  NAMES  OF  JESUS. 

John  informs  us,  that  he  and  other  six  of  tb 
seven  in  all,  were  compelled  by  their  necesi 
a-fishing  for  the  supply  of  their  temporal  "v 
we  find  to  be  the  case  with  fishermen  all  f 
English  and  Scottish  coasts,  they  were  e 
night  in  fishing.  After  toiling  all  night 
morning  light  appeared  in  the  sky,  they  caug 
They  saw  Jesus  standing  on  the  shore,  but 
not  it  was  Jesus.  He  asked  them  if  they  hs 
cessfiiL  They  answered,  that  they  had  caug 
He  told  them  to  cast  the  net  on  the  right 
boat.  They  did  so,  and  the  net  was  insi 
with  great  fishes.  John  was  the  first  who  1 
Jesus.  The  moment  he  mentioned  it,  Pet< 
self  into  the  sea,  to  swim  on  shore  to  see  Je 
the  net  was  drawn  to  the  shore,  it  containc 
dred  and  fifty- three  large  fishes.  The  dist 
a  fire  prepared  to  warm  them,  a  breakfas 
them,  and  a  blessed  Saviour  to  comfort  t 
we  seek  Christ's  visits,  and  live  and  die  e 
fellowship!     Amen. 


NAMES  OP  JESUS  ALPHABETICALLY  Al 

In  the  seventh  number  of  this  work, 
month  of  November,  we  considered  two  nan 
beginning   with    the  letter  A— namely. 
Advocate.     By  Divine  aid,  we  will  con 
blessed  names,  beginning  with  the  same  let 

Alien. — In  Psal.  Ixix.  8,  we  find  this  ni 
Jesus.  He  says  here  in  the  language  of  p: 
am  become  a  stranger  unto  my  brethren,  ai 
unto  my  mother's  children."  Who  is  an  al 
a  stranger,  one  who  belongs  to  anothei 
country.  When  our  blessed  Saviour  can 
world,  he  was  treated  aa  a  ^oteV^wKt^  «xA  %: 
He  came  to  bis  own,  and  ^«y  a^nft^\ 
received  Wm  not.    His  o^n  ^o^\^\s» 


KAMES  OF  JS8U8.  189 

Only  rejected  him,  but  hated  him  and  despised  him. 
young  friends,  there  are  multitudes  in  our  land  to 


^2^^  Jesus  IS  an  alien.  They  know  him  not,  they 
^^e  no  wish  to  know  him.  He  is  willing  to  be  their 
^f^  friend,  but  they  say  to  him,  "  Depart  from  us,  we 
'^Jftire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  name."  They  who 
^6  and  die  treating  Jesus  as  an  alien^  he  will  treat 
tkm  as  aliens  at  the  Judgment  day !  Oh,  may  each  one 
tf  OS  be  enabled  to  say,  *'  Blessed  Jesus,  we  receive 
flee  as  our  friend  !"    Why  did  Jesus  become  an  alien? 

'*  Amongst  his  brethren  and  the  Jews, 
He  like  a  stnunger  stood, 
And  bore  their  vile  reproach  to  bring 
Young  sinners  home  to  Qod." 

All  in  all. — ''But  Christ  is  all  and  in  all." 
SoL  iii.  11.  First,  He  is  all  He  is  all,  he  is  every 
nog,  to  pious,  holy  children.  He  is  their  Saviour, 
id  their  salvation.  He  is  their  life,  he  is  their 
fktf  their  righteousness,  their  guide,  their  comfort, 
leir  ALL. 

He  is  in  aH  He  is  in  the  heart  of  pious  children  by 
s  grace.  He  is  graciously  present  with  his  people, 
herever  they  are  found.  He  is  in  the  closet,  where 
e  pious  child  prays.  He  is  in  the  sanctuary,  where  the 
0U8  child  hears  the  everlasting  gospel.  He  is  in  the 
ble,  and  his  glory  shines  in  every  page.  My  young 
lends,  take  Jesus  as  your  all.    Let  each  one  saj ; 

"  Jesos  is  ALL  my  sonl  desires, 
A  fountain  rich  and  free ; 
Hv  life,  my  light,  my  health,  my  strength, 
In  war,  my  victory." 

Almighty. — ''  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning 
d  the  ending,  which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which 
to  come,  the  Almighty." — Bev.  i.  8.  Jesus  is  an 
mighty  Creator.  Who  made  the  heavens  and  the 
rth,  oDgiB^s  and  men  ?  Jesus  the  Almigl[ity.  "^V'Ci 
wrres  all  things  ?  who  upholds  all  ihiivg^  Vy  \>afc 
d  of  Ma  power  ?   Jeaua  the  AlmigVity,    ^\^o  Sa 


140         EVENTS  OF  THE  TSAB  1848. 

the  mighty  Saviour  ?  who  provided  salvation  &r  4 
lost,  a  ruined  world  ?  Jesus  the  Almighty.  ; 

Young  friends,  flee  to  him,  and  he  will  deliver  jl| 
from  sin,  from  the  world,  from  Satan,  from  hell ;  4| 
he  is  the  Almighty,  willing  and  able  to  save  to  th 
uttermost  I  Hallelujah ! 


EVENTS  OF  THE  YEAR  1848. 

"  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice ;  let  the  mnltitBdi 
of  the  isles  be  glad  thereof.  Clouds  and  darkness  are  ronii 
about  him;  righteousness  and  judgment  are  the  habitatioitf 
his  throne." — PscU.  xcviL  1,  2. 

"  I  will  overturn,  overturn,  overturn  it ;  and  it  shall  be  • 
more,  until  he  come  whose  right  it  is ;  and  I  will  give  it  lu* 
—Ezeh  xxi.  27. 

Few  years  during  the  last  century  can  be  compared  ^^^?J 
year  1848,  for  the  thrilling  importance  of  its  events.  Tlie<^! 
kingdoms,  and  states  of  Europe,  have  presented  theapp^^' 
of  a  vast  sea,  agitated  by  tremendous  storms.  No  maa^*^ 
Bible  in  his  hand,  and  believing  in  the  providential  g^^'^jjl 
of  God,  can  forbear  exclaiming,  "He  who  rules  the  o^^!| 
shaking  the  nations;  and  he  who  fills  the  throne  ^^.^^ 
saying  to  its  rulers,  Be  wise,  now,  therefore,  0  ye  ^^|| 
instructed,  ye  judges  of  the  earth.  Serve  the  Lord  ""^fll 
and  rejoice  with  trembling.  Be  still,  and  know  that  ^  ?i.i 
I  will  be  exalted  among  the  heathen,  I  will  be  exal^^ 
earth." — Paal,  ii.  10, 11,  and  xlvi.  10.  ^^ 

Fbakce. — Many  said,  and  many  thought,  that  ih0  J?^ 
France  was  the  most  firmly  established  in  Europe,  th^*;*!^! 
wad  the  Solomon  of  the  age,  and  most  secure  in  the  ent^  ^^ 
his  regal  power.  Where  is  his  throne  1  It  was  broken  ^f^ivjt 
the  streets  of  Paris  early  in  the  last  spring.  Where  is  ^^'X 
ment  1  It  is  annihilated,  as  if  it  had  never  been.  Whcr^^  !L, 
wore  the  diadem  1  He  fled  as  a  fugitive  from  his  domi^^  ^ 
is  now,  borne  down  with  advanced  years,  an  exile  \m-  o- 
land.  The  kingly  government  of  France  has  been  con^^  fj 
many  of  the  most  judicious  divines  to  be  represented^ u 
xvi.  8,  as  the  Sun  on  which  the  angel  should  pour  W^^Ai 
"And  the  fourth  angel  poured  out  his  vial  upon  ^ 
and  power  was  given  unto  him,"  that  is,  the  angel,  '^ 
men.  with  fire."  Bunng  i\i'&  ^^\i  ^^as  a  yial  of 
ertinction  has  heen  povxred.  o\3l\>  oix  ^i^afc  ^^qt^  <A  "^t 
since  the  days  of  their  Ymg'^^^TO/mKJafti^Mn^Jb^Xfl*^ 
ehief  stay  of  papal  pticftUsCTii,  wrg%ti\:\XXftT^,  »^^^^»^^ 


SYINTS  OF  THE  TEAS  1848«        141 

iiKAVT. — The  states  and  kingdomB  of  Oennany  have  made  a 
BodouB  struggle  to  burst  asunder  the  chains  of  apolitical, 
dpal,  and  social  bondage.  Look  to  Berlin  and  Vienna,  and 
la  streams  of  human  blood  whidi  have  been  shed  in  attempt- 
lo  obtain  that  freedom  which  is  the  harbinger  of  the 
iplis  of  the  Gospel,  when  the  Mediatorial  reign  of  Jesus 
extend  over  the  earth,  and  of  which  we  have  often  sung : 

"  Blessings  abound  where'er  he  reigns. 
The  prisoner  leaps  to  lose  his  chains. 
The  weary  find  eternal  rest. 
And  all  the  sons  of  want  are  blest." 

QTRiA. — Twice  the  Emperor  of  Austria  has  fled  from  his 
il;  and,  wearied  and  exhausted  with  the  cares  of  government, 
M  abdicated  his  throne,  and  committed  the  sceptre  into  the 
I  of  his  nephew,  only  eighteen  years  of  age. 
iLT. — ^This  lovely  portion  of  Europe  has  been  convulsed  from 
Enmity  to  the  other.  The  inhabitants  are  endeavouring  to 
i^fiTthe  yoke  of  tyranny;  they  are  panting  after  liberty  and 
DBtitutions,  as  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks.  0 
y  teach  them  to  pant  after  that  spiritual  liberty  which  thou 
art  able  to  bestow ! 

m. — This  ancient  city  has  been  the  theatre  of  the  most 
llhing  events.  Pope  Pius  IX,  one  of  the  most  liberal  and 
relent  who  haa  ever  filled  the  papal  throne,  who  went  beyond 
bo  preceded  him  in  giving  his  subjects  liberal  institutions, 
irho  was  the  very  idol  of  his  people,  has  been  made  a 
lUK  in  his  own  palace,  has  escaped  from  it  in  the  disguise  of 
rant,  and  has  left  behind  him  all  the  trappings  and  badges 
ralty,  glad  to  flee  for  his  safety  and  his  life. 
es  not  this  look  something  like  the  pouring  out  of  the 
rial,  of  which  the  inspired  John  thus  writes,  Kev.  zvi.  10 : 
1  the  fifth  angel  poured  out  his  vial  on  the  seat  of  thb 
■;  and  his  kingdom  was  full  of  darkness,  and  they  gnawed 
tongues  for  pain  1" 

the  year  1701,  the  Eev.  Robert  Fleming  published  a  dis- 
B  on  the  rise  and  fall  of  Papacy.  This  eminent  divine  was 
fkable  for  his  piety,  learning,  and  humility.  His  father 
[flo  a  divine  and  scholar  of  great  eminence,  and  was  author  of 
well-known  celebrated  book  entitled  **  The  Ftdfilling  of 
ture"  His  son  Robert,  in  common  with  the  most  judi- 
interpreters  of  prophecy,  considers  that  Papacy,  or  the 
L  of  the  Man  of  Sin,  commenced  in  the  year  606  a.i>.,  when 
mperor  Phocas  gave  him  the  title  of  Universal  Bishop.  In 
>llowing  passages  the  reign  of  papal  delusion  is  said  to 
260  daya,  that  ib,  1260  prophetical yeaxft •.  T3;feN.x\.'I,^,^yA. 
14,  and  xiii.  5.  The  month  of  a  prop^<B\Aft  'St**  <s.Q\isSNA\»» 
'thirty  days,  making  the  lengUi  oi  tlie  ^ftw  ^^Q  ^^i^>^^^ 


142  EVENTS  OF   THE  TEAB   1848. 

days  less  than  the  Julian  jesr,  consisting'  of  365  dtjB. 
these  remarks  let  us  now  attend  to  the  precise  words 
Finning;  and  see  how  his  observations  accora  with  the  stat 
Pope,  the  head  of  the  Boman  Church,  in  the  year  1848.  I 
"  If  we  may  suppose  that  Antichrist  began  his  reign  in  t 
606,  the  additional  1260  years  of  his  duration,  were  the] 
or  ordinary  years,  would  lead  us  down  to  the  year  1866 
last  period  of  the  seven-headed  monster.  But  seeing  1 
prophetical  years  only,  we  must  cast  away  eighteen  years,  i 
to  bring  them  to  the  exact  measure  of  time  that  tJie  S 
€k>d  designs  in  this  Book.  And  thus  the  final  period  ( 
usurpations,  (supposing  that  he  did  indeed  rise  in  the  ye 
must  conclude  with  the  year  1848.'* 

Such  have  been  the  astonishing  events  of  tiie  past  jei 
us  rejoice  in  the  wisdom  and  power  of  Christ,  by  whoi 
events  shall  be  overruled  for  hastening  the  coming  of  lus  Id 
As  to  the  future,  let  us  repose  the  fullest  confidence  in  Jei 
does  fdl  things  well,  and  who  in  his  own  time  will  v 
sceptre  of  his  love  over  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
sing  "  Hallelujah  !  for  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  xeignel 


The  following  Hymn,  by  Cowpeb,  is  so  suitable  to 
events,  that  we  cannot  refrain  from  placing  it  before  the 
of  our  youthful  readers,  even  though  it  is  so  generally  ka 

UTSTEar,  WISDOM,  AND  GOODNESS  OT   PBOTIDXNOI. 

*'  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way. 
His  wonders  to  perform  ; 
He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea, 
Ajid  rides  upon  the  storm. 

"  Deep  in  unfathomable  mines 
Of  never-failing  skill. 
He  treasures  up  Ms  bright  designs. 
And  works  his  sov'reign  will. 

"  Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take : 
The  douda  ye  so  much  dread 
Are  big  with  mercy,  and  shall  break 
With  blessings  on  your  head. 

**  Judge  noi  tV^  lioxd  by  feeble  sense. 
But  tiual  \i\m  ^ot  \i\^  %xm^  \ 
Behind  a  troNroinjs  ^Tw\^«aj» 
He  Yiid-ea  a  waV^^  lwi». 


laSnONART  FACTS.  143 

"  His  punxMses  will  ripen  &8ty 
Unfolding  every  hoar ; 
The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste. 
But  sweet  will  be  the  flower. 

"  Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err. 
And  scan  hib  work  in  vain; 
God  is  his  own  interpreter,  * 

And  he  will  make  it  plain." 


MISSIONARY  PACTS. 


SATUnO  nilTBBS. 


f  binds  the  inhabitants  of  heathen  lands  with  strong 
God  sends  missionaries  to  preach  among  them  the 
Goi^eL  This  Gospel,  accompanied  by  the  Divine  Spirit, 
the  fetters  in  pieces.  Thus  Satan's  prisoners  are  set 
here  is  a  great  resemblance  betwixt  the  heathen  of  all 
)f  all  colours,  and  of  all  languages  :  they  are  bound 
^etters  of  superstition  and  witchcraft.  This  we  find  to  be 
arly  the  case  with  the  North  American  Indians.  And 
1  do  they  pray  1  They  pray  to  serpents,  bears,  and  to  many 
nimals.  British  youths !  pity,  oh,  pity  the  children  of 
I  lands,  who  are  taught  to  pray  to  vile  reptiles,  and  who 
lotliing  of  the  true  God !  Let  us  rejoice  that  Satan's 
lall  cease,  and  that  the  time  shall  come  when  his  captives 
set  free.  ''  Come  quickly,  Lord  Jesus,  with  thy  Gospel, 
of  thy  strength,  and  give  liberty  to  the  captives,  and 
B  prison  doors  of  those  who  are  bound !'' 

PAGAN  CONJUROR. 

a  the  North  American  pagan  Indians,  the  Conjuror  is  a 
gpreat  influence.  When  one  of  them  is  sick,  they  send  for 
juror,  whom  they  call  the  doctor.  How,  think  you,  does 
ceiver  proceed]  I  will  tell  you.  He  orders  a  bear  or 
animal  to  be  killed,  and  to  be  singed  with  fire  till  the 
consumed.  Then  the  sick  or  dying  man  is  laid  in  the 
»f  the  house.  One  beats  a  drum,  sings,  and  screams, 
out  the  names  of  various  animals,  while  others  duieQ 
le  poor  and  afflicted  sufierer.  This  most  horrible  prac- 
ontinued  till  the  person  recovers,  loses  his  senses,  or  dies, 
les,  the  conjuror  builds  a  small  hut  of  the  bark  of  trees, 
le  sits  screaming,  and  crying  to  flying  birds,  to  bring 
e  soul  which  has  flown  away.  When  he  pielendft  V^<&  \)3^ 
the  departed  soul,  he  puts  it  in  a  smsiLl  \k>x,  sjvOl  '^\8ai^\\» 
\e  bead  of  the  lifeless  corpse.  See  what  men.  we  ViVSasyo^ 
s/  /   See  how  importtait  it  is,  and  how  h.umaaaft,  Vi  w^-^ 


144  MISSION ABT  facts; 

the  heralds  of  salvation  to  preach  that  Qospel,  which  by  thi 
Spirit  will  raise  men  from  the  dis^sting  depths  of  heathemsm, 
and  make  them  the  sons  of  God.  '*  Blessed  hope  1  Holy 
Saviour,  we  long  for  the  day  !" 

THE  PAGAN  AND  THE  OHBISTIAJT  00NT&A8TXD. 

to 

I  LATELT  presided  at  a  Juvenile  Missionary  Meeting  in  Jewin 
Street.     The  Rev.  A«  Buzacott,  late  missionary  from  the  South: 
sea  Islands,  was  present,  with  Eiro,  a  young  Christian  converti 
from  Baratonga.    During  the  meeting,  Mr.  Buzacott  infonnei 
us  that  Kiro's  grandfather,  in  a  time  of  war,  was  killed  by  a  miA 
of  their  own  party,  who  had  joined  the  ranks  of  their  enemio. 
His  father  was  filled  with  revenge,  and  succeeded  with  Bome 
friends  in  coming  upon  him  while  gathering  chestnuts.    They 
soon  killed  him  by  their  clubs  and  spears^  aiud  literally  tore  hii 
to  pieces.    Each  of  these  poor  pagans  took  a  piece  of  the  muit 
body,  and  ate  it  raw,  as  they  walked  along.    But  Kiro's  &thier 
would  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  tluun  the  7»an*s  heart  IM 
raw  as  it  was,  and  torn  from  his  bosom,  before  it  was  eold,  hi 
devoured  with  the  greediness  of  a  wolf.    This  happened  befon 
the  Gospel  visited  Raratonga.    Such  practices  have  passed  awi|f 
as  if  they  had  never  been.    Kiro's  father  became  humsnii^ 
his  mother  became  an  eminent  saint,  and  he  himself  is  an  \asiiM 
disciple  at  Jesus'  feet !    "  What  has  God  wrought !/' 

LIBERALITT   01*  SAHOAN  OHILDKWW> 

The  liberality  of  Samoan  children  to  the  cause  of  Missiooik 
which  is  the  cause  of  Christ,  is  a  most  pleasing  illosintiM 
of  these  words  of  inspiration :  "  Freely  ye  have  received;  Mf 
give." — iMatt.  x.  8. 

The  Rev.  W.  Mills,  of  the  Samoan  Mission,  with  Mr.  Priteliiii 
and  a  large  collection  of  children,  met  under  a  grove  of  breid 
fruit  trees.  After  an  appropriate  address  by  Mr.  Pritchard,  thi 
dear  children  from  the  farthest  village  in  Mr.  Mills*  district  case 
forward,  and  presented  their  several  ofieiings  for  the  heneftl 
of  the  cause  of  Missions. 

Ist.  Four  hundred  yards  of  English  cloth ;  2d.  Bighi^wvci 
fine  mats ;  3d.  Three  hundred  and  sixty-nine  pieces  of  nttn 
cloth ;  4th.  Eight  axes ;  5th.  Twelve  pairs  of  scissors ;  6th.  ThM 
razors,  five  knives,  &c. ;  in  all  upwards  of  seven  hundred  artidsit 
7th.  Fifty-seven  dollars  in  money ;  and,  8th.  Twenty-nine  ciaM 
for  the  use  of  the  native  teachers,  at  the  various  islandi  to  tti 
westward.  The  whole  amount  collected  in  these  difierentdiitilell 
could  not  be  less  than  300^.  or  400^. 

The  Missionary  Ship,  the  John  Williams,  was  in  view,  hi  ttl 

outside  of  the  coral  reel.    A.nd.  ^  lovely  sight  it  mm  to  fleaiW 

Ship,  purchased  by  the  coTi\.n\>u\AQiii&  qI  '^tvNas^  0(fi\.4sna^taW 

with  the  canoes  and  offexvng^  ol  ^siMnswa.  iSoc^^TnoL  \ft  «i«i 

the  Gospel  to  distant  landa.  ^"^ 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 


THE  OSTIIICH. 


IsTesl  tlinQ  wiDgt  and  feathen  auto  the  Ostriohl  trbich 
lii  her  *ggt  la  the  etrth,  and  nnneth  Ihem  in  Uie  dust." — 
jjtix  13,  li. 

BE  Hebrew  name  of  this  remarkable  bird  is  nis 
lA,  and  signifies  loud  a-ying.  Thua  the  bird  is 
ed  from  ita  voice.     It  is  an  inhabitant  of  Arabia 

Africai  It  ia  tlie  talleat  of  birds.  When  it 
ds  ereut  it  ia  from  seven  to  eight  feet  in  height, 
leck  is  four  or  five  spans  in  length.     Ita  \e{^  ve% 

and  Hiked.  Ita  feet  consist  only  of  two  toe*  e&tSn, 
.  bard,  and  famed  forward.  Its  wings  aift  ^w>^\ 
ire  ajidt  for  Bying,  and  are  only  given  it  to  «a«s.t 


deceived;  if  a  man  pnt  on  an  Ostrich's  si 
hold  out  /ruits  to  it,  without  suspecting  it  will 
them,  and  so  be  taken.  Fit  emblem  of  careless 
who  are  so  easily  deceived,  and  so  soon  cai 
Satan's  wiles ! 

Ostriches  make  a  most  doleful  noise,  T 
careless  of  their  young,  lay  their  eggs  in  tl 
leave  them  to  bo  hatched  by  the  sun,  and  ofte 
where  they  are  laid.  Job  xxxix.  17,  "  God  1 
prived  her  of  wisdom,  neither  hath  he  impart 
her  understanding.  *  This  bird  is  singularly  vc 
Leather,  herbs,  stones,  metals,  and  hair,  it  will 
devour.  Thus  it  is  a  disgusting  emblem  ( 
youths  who  indulge  in  vile  lusts,  which  degra 
nature,  and  ruin  their  souls. 


SERMON  X. 


iTT'B«     /^TTTT-D/^TT     nnTTi;»     arw\T>  /\ia  r*     /^vn-^ 


SEBMON.  147 

arch  of  Christ.  For  instance,  it  is  called  a  floch, 
^ear  not,  little ^ocft,  it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure 
give  you  the  kingdom,"  Luke  xii.  32.  Christ's 
urch  is  called  a  family,  Paul  says,  "  I  bow  my 
jes  unto  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Je^^us  Christ,  of 
om  thewhole/amt'/y  in  heaven  and  earth  is  named." 
rist's  Church  is  called  a  garden,  ^^  A  garden  enclosed 
my  sister,  my  spouse,"  Song  iii.  12.  Many  of  you 
3w  the  following  lines  of  Watts,  in  which  this  name 
nentioned. 

'*  We  are  a  garden  wall'd  around. 
Chosen  and  made  peculiar  ground ) 
A  little  spot  enclosed  by  grace, 
Out  of  the  world's  wide  wilderness." 

Watts,  Book  I.  H.  74. 

id  in  our  text  the  Church  of  Christ  is  called  a  City, 
i  a  Strong  City*    "  We  have  a  strong  city :  salvation 
11  God  appoint  for  walls  and  bulwarks." 
By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  shall  direct 
iir  attention,  in  this  discourse,  to  the  Gates,  the 
alls,  and  the  Towers  of  the  City. 
First, — Let  us  take  a  view  of  the  Gates  of  the 
ly.     This  city  has  two  Gates.     One  is  the  gate  by 
lich  the  penitent  youthful  saint  enters  the  city ;  the 
ler  is  the  gate  by  which  he  enters  heaven. 
The  first  gate  is  the  Gate  of  Conversion.   That  is  its 
me.     Our  Saviour  made  this  gate.     And  thus  he 
3aks  of  this  gate :  "  Enter  ye  in  at  the  strait  gate ; 
cause  strait  is  the  gate:  and  narrow  is  the  way,  which 
deth  unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it,"  Matt.  vii. 
,  14.     This  gate  is  called  strait,  because  no  one  can 
38  through  the  gate  with  any  reigning  lust.     Every 
B  who  passes  is  delivered  from  the  reign  of  sin,  the 
gn  of  passion,  and  the  reign  of  lust.  Then  he  enters, 
he  attempts  to  enter  before  he  is  delivered  from 
gning  lusts,  he  shall  find  it  impossible.     He  may 
ter,  even  thovgh  sin  is  not  completely  vf a^^^  ww«:^  % 
t  be  cannot  enter  unless  the  reigmng  i^owet  o^  ^v^ 
lust  is  completely  taken  away. 

L  2 


148  SERMON. 

Though  this  gate  is  strait^  the  chief  of  sinners  may 
enter  when  repentance  is  given,  and  when  the  reign  of 
sin  and  lust  is  destroyed.  It  is  at  this  gate  the  guilt  of 
sin  is  taken  away;  that  is,  sin  is  pardoned  through  the 
righteousness  of  Christ.  Then  the  righteousness  of 
Jesus  is  made  his.  By  faith  he  receives  it  as  a  comelj 
robe.  Then  he  instantly  passes  through  the  gate.  As 
he  passes  through  the  gate,  angels  in  heaven  raise  songs 
of  loudest,  sweetest  melody  of  praise.  Then  the  young 
citizen  sings  in  joyful  strains — 

**  Christ  has  adorned  my  naked  soul, 
And  made  salvation  mine : 
Upon  a  poor  polluted  worm 
He  makes  his  graces  shine. 

''  And  lest  the  shadow  of  a  spot 
Should  on  my  soul  be  found. 
My  Saviour  took  the  robe  he  wrought, 
And  cast  it  all  around.*'— Watts,  Book  I.  H.  20. 

When  the  young  penitent  draws  near  this  gate,  he  sees 
inscriptions  written  over  it,  in  letters  shining  brighter 
than  burnished  gold ;  and  then  he  knocks  at  the  gate,  and 
seeks  admission.  He  reads  this  inscription^  **  Ask,  and 
it  shall  be  given  you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock,  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  you,"  Matt.  vii.  7.  He  reads 
another  inscription,  '*And  yet  there  is  roomy"  Luke 
xiv.  22.  Then  he  reads  a  third  inscription,  ^^  Him 
that  cometh  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out,"  John  vi.  37* 
He  is  so  encouraged  by  these  inscriptions,  that  he  sajs 
within  himself,  '^  Now  I  will  venture  to  knock  at  tfas 
gate."  He  approaches  the  gate.  He  lifts  up  his  heart  ia 
earnest  prayer  to  the  King  of  the  City  for  mei^y.  With 
the  hand  of  faith  he  knocks  at  the  gate.  A  voice  from 
within  says,  "Who  is  there?"  The  young  penitent 
replies,  "A  poor  young  sinner  crying  for  mercy,  through 
the  blood  which  Jesus  the  king  of  the  city  shed,  and 
through  the  atonement  \i^  m^<dL<&"  iT^tocotly  the  gate 
A'es  wide  open.  He  enters  m  •,  "^«t<s^  v?j5b«^\«isi\s^'^ 
band,  presents  him  to  the  l^ii^  oi  xJaa  %Vt^\i%<a5c|^w^ 


SERMON.  149 

's  in  words  the  most  affectioDate,  "  Come  in,  come  in, 
m  blessed  of  the  Lord ;  stand  no  more  without  I" 
There  is  not  only  the  Gate  of  Conversion,  bj  which 
t  joung  penitent  enters  the  citj,  but  there  is  another 
e  by  which  he  enters  heaven.  That  gate  is  the  Gate 
Death.  There  is  a  valley  through  which  the  young 
izen  passes,  as  he  approaches  the  gate.  It  is  called 
he  valley  and  shadow  of  death,"  Ps.  xxiii.  4.  To  the 
5  of  nature  this  valley  appears  dark  and  dreary  :  to 
t  eye  of  faith  it  appears  bright  and  glorious.  Jesus 
:es  the  young  saint  by  the  hand  as  he  enters  the  val- 
,  and  says  to  him,  "  Death  is  yours  ;  fear  not — fear 
,  for  I  am  with  you  ;  be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy 
d."  Then  he  puts  into  his  hand  a  remarkable  staff, 
afF  of  inimitable  beauty :  He  says  to  him,  "Lean  on 
t  staff.  Hold  it  fast  by  the  hand  of  faith.  It  is  the 
f  of  my  power,  and  of  my  truth.  Lean  on  it;  then 
your  fears  will  flee  away  like  a  cloud  before  the 
id."  He  takes  the  staff  in  the  one  hand,  with  the  other 
leans  on  Christ's  arm,  and  then  begins  to  sing  while 
looks  along  the  valley,  and  sees,  at  the  end  of  the 
ley,  the  Gate  of  Death  : 

"While  Christ  affords  his  aid 
I  cannot  yield  to  fear : 
Though  I  should  walk  through  death's  dark  vale^ 
My  Shepherd's  with  me  there." 

\A,  last  he  comes  to  the  Gate  of  Death,  and  sees  the 
ig  of  Terrors  standing  by.  Oh  how  wonderful,  how 
ghtful !  he  looks  the  king  of  terrors  full  in  the  face 
hat  king  who  has  struck  with  terror  the  hearts  of  ten 
asand  kings — and  while  he  looks  upon  him  without 
*.  he  sings  the  following  triumphant  song  in  sounds 
oyful  praise : — 

'*  The  world  recedes  ! — it  disappears. 

Heaven  opens  on  my  eyes  I  my  oaift 

With  sounds  seraphic  ring  ! 
Lend,  lend  jour  wings  I  I  mount  \  1  iVy  \ — 
O  Grave !  where  is  thy  victory] 

O  Death  1  where  is  thy  sting 'i" 


150  SEBMON. 

Then  the  gate  opens,  and  immediately  on  the  other 
side  is  the  pearly  Gate  of  Heaven,  shining  brighter  than 
ten  thousand  suns.  Through  that  glorious  gate  the 
young  saint  passes.  He  enters  into  the  palace  of  the 
Great  Bang.  His  Saviour  says  to  him,  in  the  presence 
of  all  the  inhabitants  of  heaven,  "Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord  !"   Matt.  xxv.  21. 

My  young  friends,  may  you  by  Divine  grace  thus 
pass  through  the  valley  of  death.  Thus  may  you  enter 
through  the  pearly  gate,  and  obtain  the  joys  of  heaven, 
and  the  blessedness  of  immortality. 

Secondly^ — ^We  invite  your  attention  to  the  Walls 
of  the  City.  Isa.  xxvi.  1,  "  Salvation  will  God  appoint 
for  Trails  ;"  Isa.  Ix.  18,  "  Thou  shalt  call  thy  walls  sal- 
vation and  thy  gates  praise."  My  dear  young  friends, 
if  you  had  seen  the  walls  of  Babylon,  you  would  have 
lifted  up  your  hands  with  astonishment,  and  you  would 
have  said.  What  wonderful  walls  !  If  you  had  seen  the 
walls  of  ancient  Jerusalem,  with  the  noble  towers  built 
upon  the  walls,  you  would  have  lifted  up  your  hands 
with  astonishment  and  have  said.  Oh  what  wonderful 
walls  !  A  great  army  came  from  a  far  country  to 
besiege  Jerusalem.  When  they  came  the  length  of  the 
walls  and  looked  up,  they  were  struck  with  terror,  and 
fled,  and  hasted  away.     Psal.  xlviii.  4,  5. 

The  walls  of  Babylon,  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  were 
nothing  compared  with  the  Walls  of  Salvation  which 
surround  the  church,  the  strong  city,  the  city  of  the 
Great  King.  Come  with  me  and  behold— come  with 
me  and  admire  the  walls  of  the  church,  the  city  of  Crod. 
Oh  how  lofty  !  they  are  as  high  as  the  heavens; 
therefore  no  enemy  can  ever  climb  over  or  scale  these 
walls.  Behold  the  walls,  and  see  how  wonderful  for 
strength.  No  earthquake  can  shake  them.  If  all 
the  powers  of  bell  were  to  «AX«Lck  \.W?iQ  walls  for  a 

million  of  years,  tliey  woxAA.  ^o  xJ^kssl  t\s>  \Ek^x^\i»ros. 

than  a  dy  lighting  "upoii  tViftm.  ,       rcw. 

JSehold  how  glorious  are  \Yi^^^  ^^^-    ^^^1  ^«^^' 


SERMON.  151 

more  glorious  than  the  firmament,  with  all  its  stars  of 
glory  and  of  brightness.  These  walls  shine  in  all  the 
glorj  of  the  Divine  perfections.  These  perfections  strike 
the  hearts  of  the  enemies  of  the  city  with  terror.  These 
perfections  fill  the  hearts  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  city 
with  joy  unspeakable.  The  inhabitants  see  a  glorious 
prospect  from  these  walls.  With  the  telescope  of  faith, 
they  see  the  heavenly  Canaan,  and  even  obtain  glimpses 
of  heaven's  glory.  Oh,  how  infinitely  safe  are  the 
inhabitants  of  the  strong  city  within  these  walls,  which 
shall  stand  for  ever !  Oh,  with  what  joyful  confidence 
they  sing; 

*'  Bulwarks  of  mighty  grace  defend 
The  city  where  we  dwell ; 
The  walls  of  strong  salvation  made. 

Defy  the  assaults  of  hell."— Watts,  Book  I.  H.  8. 

Thirdly, — Let  us  consider  attentively  the  Towers  of 
the  City.  Psal.  xlviii.  1 2,  "Walk  about  Zion ;"  (that  is, 
the  church,  the  strong  city,)  "  and  go  round  about  her  j 
tell  the  towers  thereof,"  that  is,  ?iumher  them.  Come 
with  me,  my  young  friends,  and  look  at  the  walls  of  the 
city,  and  we  shall  see  placed  upon  them  six  glorious 
towers,  which  have  stood  there  ever  since  the  won- 
derful walls  were  built.  May  God  the  Spirit  bless  the 
sight  to  all  our  hearts. 

On  these  noble,  glorious  walls,  I  see  first,  the  tower 
of  Divine  Wisdom.  This  tower  contains  all  the  pur- 
poses, and  laws  of  the  Eang  of  the  city.  It  is  so  bright, 
that  it  sheds  its  glory  over  the  whole  city. 

Near  this  tower  is  the  tower  of  Omnipotence,  When 
the  enemies  of  the  city  rage,  and  threaten  to  destroy 
it,  the  inhabitants  look  on  this  noble  tower,  and  then 
laugh  their  enemies  to  scorn. 

Near  this  tower  is  the  tower  of  Holiness.     The 
inhabitants  of  the  city  are  greatly  comforted  when  they 
look   upon  the   following  inscription  written   on  this 
tower;  "2fo/y,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  oj  ]\o%\.%\  \S\a 
w/io/e  earth  is  full  of  his  gloi^P     Isa.  \i.  ^. 
Near  this   tow^v  is  the  tower  o£   3\3aT\OT.*     "^^^a^ 


ELTMA.S   STRUCK   BUND.  153 

tower  contains  the  vials  of  God's  wrath,  and  the  thunder- 
bolts of  his  vengeance.  With  these  God  has  awfully 
punished  the  enemies  of  the  city. 

Near  the  tower  of  Justice  stands  the  tower  of  Love. 
On  the  summit  of  this  tower  there  is  an  inscription 
shining  brighter  than  the  sun  in  his  strength.  It  is 
this,  "  Ood  is  love.^*    John  iv.  8. 

Near  this  tower  is  the  tower  of  Divine  Truth. 
This  tower  contains  an  immense  treasure  of  great  and 
precious  promises ;  and  the  following  inscription 
encircles  this  tower  with  glory :  "  Mis  truth  is  thy 
shield  and  buckler.'*  Let  us  unite  in  praising  Jesus,  the 
King  of  the  strong  city  : 

"  For  ever  shall  thy  throne  endure ; 
Thy  promise  stands  for  ever  sure ; 
And  everlasting  holiness 
Becomes  the  dwellings  of  thj'^race."— Watts,  P«a?.  93. 

(To  he  corUinued.) 


ELYMAS  STRUCK  BLIND. 

In  Acts  xiii.  4 — 12,  we  have  an  account  of  the 
opposition  which  Elymas  the  sorcerer  made  to  the 
preaching  of  Paul.  For  this  daring  opposition  to  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  he  was  punished  with  blindness. 

The  Gospel  is  the  mean  which  God  has  appointed 
for  opening  the  eyes  of  the  blinded  understandings  of 
men.  Elymas  tried  to  prevent  this  blessed  Gospel  from 
giving  men  spiritual  eyesight.  Therefore,  God  justly 
punished  him  by  depriving  him  of  his  natural  eyesight 

Let  us  look  at  the  particulars  of  this  remarkable 
story.  Paul  went  from  Selucia,  a  sea-port  town  on  the 
north  of  the  Holy  Land,  and,  in  company  with  Barnabas, 
aailed  to  the  island  of  Cyprus,  situated  in  the  eastern 
portion  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  not  i«iT  ^\wdl  kssa. 
Minor,  or  Lesser  Asia.  ImmediateVy  oil  eii\fcYvck%  ^^aa^ 
'sJa/id,  thejr  commenced  preaching  t\ie  Cios'g^    'YX^ss^ 


154      FIGURATIVE  ILLUSTBA.TIOKS  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

went  from  one  place  to  another,  until  they  reached  i 
town  called  Paphos.  There  they  met  with  the  clurf 
ruler  of  the  i.>land,  a  prudent  man,  called  Sergim 
Paulus  ;  and  in  company  with  him,  Elymas  the  sorcereTi 
a  false  prophet  and  a  Jew.  The  deputy  was  veiy 
desirous  to  hear  the  Gospel.  Elymas  used  all  his  vik 
malicious  influence  to  prevent  it,  and  to  turn  away  tbe 
deputy  from  the  faith.  Then  Paul,  filled  with  the 
Holy  Ghost,  pronounced  upon  him  the  following  awM 
sentence :  "  And  now,  behold,  the  hand  of  the  Lord  ii 
upon  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  blind.  And  inunediatdy 
there  fell  upon  him  a  mist,  and  a  darkness ;  and  he 
went  about  seeking  some  to  lead  him  by  the  hand." 


FIGURATIVE  ILLUSTRATIONS    OF  THE 
BIBLE,  IN  ALPHABETICAL  ORDER 

In  our  December  Number  we  considered  four  ex- 
cellences of  the  Bible,  beginning  with  the  letter  A 
By  the  aid  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  we  will  now  consider 
the  word  of  God  as  an  Armoury,  an  Arrow,  as  Artil- 
lery, and  as  our  Assurance  of  God's  mercy  and  truth. 
An  Armoury. — "  And  A  polios  was  mighty  in  the 
Scriptures."  Acts  xviii.  24.  An  armoury  is  a  plaee 
which  contains  arms,  or  weapons  for  defending  froa  id 
enemy,  or  for  wounding  and  slaying  an  enemy.  I  had 
seen  the  late  armoury  of  the  Tower  of  London,  beftn  I 
it  was  destroyed  by  fire.  It  was  300  feet  in  lengtis  ^ 
and  contained  muskets  for  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
men.  The  Bible  is  an  armoury  which  contains  weapon! 
of  defence  for  countless  millions  of  precioas  sooli* 
And  this  armoury  never  can  be  destroyed.  Whit 
weapons  of  defence  are  to  be  found  in  this  armoniy? 
We  answer.  Divine  knowledge.  Divine  wisdom,  and 
Divine  grace.  By  the  blessing  of  the  Spirit,  they  who 
visit  this  armoury  ^nd  all  these.  ApoUos  had  this 
precious  armour.  He  'ws^^  xoa^x.^  Vev  >\!i^  ^onQtores 
Dear  youno'  friends,  Ti\«iy  ^o\x\i^  tkv^Vj  Vcl  ^^"^sre^ 
tures ;  thea  you  shaW  couc^vxet  liSJiiwa  «^ycvVw^Vj- 


MISSIONABY  INTELLIGENCE.  155 

kN  Akrow. — An  arrow  inflicts  a  wound.  The 
rd  of  God,  by  his  Spirit,  wounds  the  slumbering 
Bcience.  Then  in  one  moment  it  awakes.  When 
arrow  wounds  the  flesh,  it  produces  pain.  When  the 
ine  arrow  of  the  word  wounds  and  awakes  the 
Da1>eriBg  conscience,  it  produces  conviction.  This 
ow  wounded  three  thousand  under  the  preaching  of 
«r,  and  they  were  all  convinced,  and  all  converted. 
ITouthful  reader,  have  you  felt  the  arrow  of  divine 
th  ?  Oh,  may  it  reach  your  conscience,  and  your 
rt  ! 

\jiTiLLERT. — In  war,  cannons  prepared  for  defence 
L  destruction,  are  called  artillery.  By  cannon,  walls 
castles  are  levelled  with  the  dust.  By  the  artillery 
divine  truth,  the  walls  of  error,  and  infidelity,  and 
ruption,  are  levelled  with  the  ground.  When  God 
BCts  this  holy  and  powerful  artillery,  nothing  can 
ad  before  it.  Superstition,  Idolatry,  Mahomedanism 
I  Paganism  shall  be  destroyed  by  this  artillery  of 
kven,  and  cease  for  ever.  "Lord,  hasten  the  day, 
5  blessed  day  ! " 

Assurance  op  God's  mercy  and  truth. — God's 
►rd  is  sure,  and  gives  assurance.  It  is  so  sure,  that 
yugh.  the  very  heavens  and  the  earth  should  pass  away, 
is  word  can  never  pass  away.  When  the  word  is 
ought  home  with  power  even  to  the  heart  of  a  little 
lild,  he  is  assured  that  Jesus  is  his,  and  that  heaven  is 
B  home.  Many  children  I  have  seen  in  the  valley  and 
ladow  of  death  with  this  assurance.  They  could  say 
.  the  valley,  "  We  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with 
J ;   thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort  us." 


MISSIONARY  INTELLIGENCE. 

ALEXANDER  FLETCHER,  NATIVE  TEACHER  IN  INDIA. 
Mission  House,  Biomfield  Street,  ^ov.  1%,\%\&. 
Deak  Sir, — I  have  the  pleasure  to  traiismV^.  «>»- 
^ount  received  this  day  from  our  esteemed  ixi\ss\QnBaiX>j, 
.  Lewis,  of  Nagercoil,  of  the  natWe  leae\xeT  w^- 


156  UieSIOKART  IHTELUQENCE. 

ported  by  the  ChiiatiaQ  liberality  of  your  .li*'*'r 
They  will  observe  a  peculiarity  in  the  Mjie,  ^  C*  T, 
terietic  of  the  nativeB  of  India,  in  their  epistolsiy  .(**■  V. 
municatioDS ;  but  Mr.  Lewis,  who  translated  the  lj£*  V 
ment  from  the  Tamil,  observes,  that  he  "  thiaks  <  /jrf*  | 
to  send  the  teacber's  own  thoughts,  expressed  in  hid  \ 
way."  fi\ 

Hoping  that  tlie  account  will  gratiTy  the  hopeS^  1 
his  kind  supporters,  and  tend  to  sustain  their  ^aa(r 
interest  on  behalf  of  native  agency  in  India, 
I  remain,  dear  Sir, 

Yours  very  truly, 

A.  TIDJCAN, 

FoTtiga  SrCTciart,  Laninn  Jflutnuiy  SkM^ 
TBB  HC8T0BT  Ot  i..  rLBTCBIR,  WEITTKH  BT  HUmU. 

The  following  statement  is  gubmitted  b;  ma,  A.  Flelebv,  ■ 
native  teadkcr,  to  Iho  charitable  CliriBUaoB  ud  gupportan  rf 
missions,  living  in  England. 

My  native  village  ia  Puttalam,  about  («n  miles  &om  Cut 
Comorin,  and  one  mile  inland  from  the  Malabar  Coast.  At  ttt 
time  of  m;  birth  both  m;  parents  wera  heathen;  bat  wlMl  I 
ivaa  about  eight  j'ears  of  age,  they  removed  to  a  Tillage  caM 
Hayilodi,  where  the;  hesjrd  the  Qoepel  preached  and  bMHt 
Christians.  Though  I  was  in  the  habit  of  attending  patii 
worship  irith  them,  and  of  learning  in  tlie  miaHioit^cItoa^  Jit  I 
felt  no  delight  in  the  tcnowledge  of  Chiist,  but  fbond  gnl 
pleasure,  ta  I  thought,  in  ever?  kind  of  wickednws  In  wbckl 
indulged.  I  was,  however,  very  diligent  at  mv  leaaoiu  in  mlwali 
aa  the  reward  for  which,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bingletaube  woidd  &*■ 
qtteDll;  give  me  small  sums  of  money.  When  abont  fltltei 
fsara  of  age  1  received  Christian  baptism,  at  the  aame  time  wit! 
my  father  and  mother ;  and  afterwards,  brang  fdrthar  instmetii 
by  the  B«v.  Mr.  Ruill,  1  was  placed  by  him  aa  a  eduxilmailcrtf 
Myiladi.  Afterwards,  beiag  transferred  to  the  charga  of  tki 
Bev.  Mr.  Mault,  I  continued  to  attend  once  o-week  on  lus  inttlW- 
tions  and  reproofs,  by  which  means  I  gradually  became  conoenMd 
about  the  salvation  of  my  souL  I  continued  schoolmaaterbl 
about  four  years.  Of  those  wborQ  I  taught  duiing  that  Uia^ 
Home  ore  now  native  teachers,  placed  over  cODgregBttona  in  dK 
ferent  parts  of  the  missions.  Messrs.  Mault  and  Uead  haviig 
consulted  together  oi '  ' ' 


HAPPY  DEATH  OF   LITTLE   MABT.  157 

linoers  were  not  converted  to  (Jod,  I  prayed  the  more  earnestly 
for  them  and  for  myself,  at  the  same  time  continuing  to  distribute 
Christian  books  among  them,  and  explaining  to  them  their 
meaning.  Afterwards,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  some  heathen 
people  become  Christians.  During  the  eleven  years  I  was  there, 
seven  persons  were  baptized  and  united  to  the  Church  of  God. 
At  the  close  of  this  period  the  congregation  at  Atticadn,  Kulat- 
tivillay,  Managoody,  and  Santhaiadie,  were  greatly  annoyed  by 
the  heathen ;  and  to  render  them  assistance  I  was  appointed  to 
reside  among  them,  which  I  did  for  the  space  of  two  years. 
During  that  short  period  several  persons  forsook  their  idolatry, 
and  made  a  profession  of  the  Gospel.  After  this  I  was  removed 
to  the  village  of  JS^angoorampillarvillay,  where  I  remained  one  year, 
and  was  the  means  of  bringing  some  to  the  Christian  religion. 
The  village  in  which  I  have  now  been  upwards  of  nine  years 
is  called  Puthoor,and  the  congregation  attend  at  Amelia  Johnson 
chapel.  Since  my  first  location  here,  the  forty  inmates  of  ten 
houses  have  made  a  profession  of  Christ.  By  the  grace  of  God, 
five  adults  and  their  children  have  received  baptism.  Of  the 
former,  four  have  joined  the  church ;  a  few  more  are,  at  present, 
candidates  for  baptism.  I  continue,  as  far  as  my  strength  per- 
mits, to  instruct  the  congregation,  both  in  public  and  in  private, 
teaching  them  the  word  of  Gk)d,  hymns,  and  Christian  catechisms. 
I  also  read  and  explain  tracts  and  other  books  to  the  heathen 
around.  Aware  that  my  own  efforts  will  be  unavailing  if  not 
accompanied  with  the  blessing  of  the  Most  High,  my  earnest 
and  constant  prayer  Is,  that  the  Lord  would  send  His  Spirit,  to 
cause  the  means  used  to  be  effectual  to  the  salvation  of  my  own 
soul  and  the  souls  of  others  around  me.  May  tiie  Spirit  of  God 
be  praised  for  having  given  you  and  the  missionaries  the  mind  to 
be  instrumental  in  effecting  so  much  good  among  us  ! 

May  the  love  of  the  Father,  the  grace  of  the  Son,  and  the  com^ 
munion  of  the  Holy  Spirit;^  be  with  you  for  ever.  Amen, 


HAPPY  DEATH  OP  LITTLE  MART. 

She  died,  aged  10  years. 

She  greatly  loved  her  Bible,  and  never  rested  till 
she  obtained  one. 

HER  DYING   SAYINGS, 

1st.  Her  happiness  and  hopes. 

She  said  to  her  mother,  "  I  am  very  happy  ;  I  have 
been  thinking  how  light  heaven  is.  I  shall  see  God 
when  I  get  there  !" 

Sd  On  seeing  her  mother  weej>  :  a\ie  »a!v^, — ^^^\>aX» 
mkesjroa  crjr^  mother  ?  Oh,  I  know  viYiy  \  ^o\sc  v*«olV 


-  a  -    -J    --  ^ — 

he  will  come  ve?*?/  soon" 

4th.  On  being  asked  if  she  wanted  any  tl 
little  water,  she  said,  "  No,  I  only  want  to  I 
to  Jesus." 

Tlien,  soon  after,  she  was  taken  to  Jesus. 

How  true  !  "  Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  ; 
lings,  God  perfects  praise  ! " 


MISSIONARY  FACTS. 

Ikdia. 

conversion  of  600roo. 

This  good  man  is  a  merchant  from  the  district  ol 
Some  native  preachers  met  with  him,  and  learned  fi 
lips  that  he  had  never  heard  the  Gospel  from  any 
and  that  he  had  never  seen  one.  He  told  them,  that 
and  a  copy  of  the  Gospels  had  found  their  way  to  hii 
them  attentively.  Bv  the  blessing  of  the  Spirit, 
things :  First,  he  saw  the  error  and  sin  of  idolatry ;  ai 
he  saw  and  believed  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Imi 
gave  up  his  idols,  and  began  to  tell  his  neighbonn 


POETIC   GEMS.  159 

iatli  of  the  chief  Matetav.  A  few  jears  ago  he  was  sur- 
sd  hy  the  thick  clouds  of  heathen  and  idolatrous  darkness. 
'  the  preaching  of  the  word,  his  pagan  fetters  were  burst 
ir,  and  he  was  made,  by  Divine  grace,  a  child  of  God,  and 
r  of  heaven.  When  baptized  he  took  the  name  Hezekiah, 
signifies  "the  strength  and  support  of  the  Lord."  In 
be  became  a  member  of  a  Christian  church,  and  soon  after- 
a  deacon.  Last  January,  he  was  seized  with  influenza, 
sease  made  rapid  progress.  He  told  the  missionary' freely 
easantly,  that  he  found  death  approaching.  He  employed 
>rt  remaining  time  and  declining  strength  in  prayer,  and 
d  Christian  counsels  to  his  family  and  friends.  He  ex- 
l  great  concern  for  the  prosperity  of  the  cause  of  Christ ; 
iree  times,  especially,  before  he  expired,  he  prayed  for 
f,  for  all  around  him,  for  the  salvation  of  his  people,  and 
prosperity  of  the  kingdom  of  Jesus.  Then  he  fell  asleep 
ist,  and  exchanged  his  earthly  honours  and  power  for  the 
of  heaven,  and  for  a  place  beside  Jesus  on  his  throne, 
his  coffin  was  lowered  into  the  grave,  the  friends  sang,  in 
noan  language : —  * 

"  Those  who  are  buried 
Shall  rise  again ; 
The  graves  shall  be  open'd 
When  the  trumpet  shall  sound."  A.  F. 


POETIC    GEMS. 

THE  PARENT,   OK  HEABIKG  HIS  CHILD   PBATINOn 

My  little  boy !  thy  voice  is  sweet 

As  sound  of  angels'  harps  to  me, 
When  I  thy  silver  tones  now  greet, 

And  see  thee  on  the  bended  knee ; 
[  love  to  view  thy  folded  hands. 

And  fondly  mark  thy  close  shut  eye, 
[*iii  drawn  to  thee  in  tenderest  bands, 

While  praise,  at  once^  ascends  on  high  ! 

RCy  little  boy  !  this  world  abounds 

In  stratagems  and  wily  snares ; 
danger  our  every  path  surrounds ; 

The  tender'st  age  it  never  spares. 
Phen  pray,  my  child,  to  God  above, 

That  every  abaft  may  miss  its  aim ; — 
TU  is  a  Father's  heart  of  Jove ; 
Toar  cry  will  not  be  put  to  shame  I 


160  SELECT   SENTENCES. 


« 


« 


My  little  boy !  as  years  march  on. 

And  childhood  ripens  into  man, 
And  friends  and  parents  may  be  gone, 

You'll  haye  to  struggle  while  you  can ; 
For  Life's  a  fight,  a  conflict  sore, 

A  battle  all  along  the  way; 
Courage  you'll  need  yet  more  and  more ; 

Then  pray,  my  child ;  yes,  ever  pray  ! 

My  little  boy !  we  soon  may  part ; — 

The  silver  chain  be  seyer'd  wide ; 
I  want  to  dwell  within  your  hearty 

Whatever  lot  may  you  betide. 
Though  thousand  miles  may  be  between, 

God's  hand  shall  keep  you,  day  by  day. 
His  eye  on  you  shall  rest  unseen. 

Because  to  him  you  early  ^r&j  I 

**  My  little  boy  \  myjoumey  here. 

With  all  its  toils,  and  fears,  and  woes. 
And  mercies  too*,  how  rich  and  dear ! 

Is  hastening  to  its  certain  close : 
I  want  to  meet  you  in  the  sky, 

When  left  behind  this  form  of  daj^ 
And  taste  the  bliss  that  cannot  die : 

Then  pray,  my  child,  yes,  always  pray  I 

"  My  little  boy  I  that  God,  who  beams 
His  love  and  pity  all  around — 
Whose  mercy  on  us  ever  streams, 

Will  not  despise  your  simple  sound. 
Forget  Him  not,  my  dearest  boy ! 

As  on  in  life  you  speed  your  way. 
It  will  inspire  my  highest  joy. 
To  know  that  you  unceasing  pray  !** 

Bbv.  T.  Wali 


Unbelief. — "  God  draweth  straight  lines,  but  imbeli 
them  crooked  lines." — RvJtherfwd, 

The  Good  Man. — "  A  good  man  suffers  eril  and  does  j 
natural  man  receives  good  and  does  evil.  Let  each  o 
'  Lord,  what  am  ir"— i>r.  Sibs, 

"  A  ooDLT  man  has  sorrows  which  the  world  seen  n 
comforts  which  the  woxVd  kno^^uoC — Dr.  Sibs, 

"  If  there  were  no  enemiea  ^l5^tlMmt  ^siV'^^'^aJf^^'wt 
unt/iin  us,  whicli.if  \el\ooafc,^o\x\^\.TO^\^xiatsitswk^ 
world  beside." — Dr.  Sibs. 


162 


SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

THE   LION. 

The  Lion  is  called  the  king  of  beasts.  The  largest 
Lions  are  from  eight  to  nine  feet  in  length,  and  from 
four  to  six  feet  in  height.  His  head  is  large,  and  of  a 
most  majestic  appearance  ;  his  breast  is  broad ;  he  is 
of  a  yellowish  tawny  colour,  and  he  has  a  large  mane 
upon  his  neck.  Lions  sleep  little  ;  their  roaring  is 
terrible,  resembling  the  distant  thunder.  When  pro- 
voked, scarcely  can  anything  withstand  them.  The 
body  of  the  Lion  appears  the  best  model  of  strength, 
joined  to  agility.  Such  is  the  strength  of  his  muscles 
that  he  can  leap  twenty  feet  at  one  bound*  He  can 
throw  a  strong  man  to  the  ground  by  one  sweep  of  his 
tail.  He  has  the  power  of  moving  the  skin  of  his 
face  and  forehead,  and  when  angry  can  erect  and  agi- 
tate the  hair  of  his  mane. 

Lions  abound  in  many  parts  of  Asia  and  Africa. 
From  Scripture  we  learn  that  there  were  many  Lions 
in  Lebanon,  and  in  the  thickets  in  the  vicinity  of 
Jordan,  Samson  tore  a  Lion  to  pieces.  David  killed 
a  Lion  and  a  Bear ;  and  Daniel  was  cast  into  a  den  of 
Lions,  but  miraculously  and  mercifully  preserved. 

God  is  compared  to  a  Lion  on  account  of  his  judg- 
ments to  his  enemies,  Hos.  v.  14,  **  For  I  will  be  unto 
Ephraim  as  a  Lion,  and  as  a  young  Lion  to  the  house 
of  Judah."  Jesus,  as  the  avenger  and  defender  of  his 
people,  is  called  (Rev.  v.  5)  "  The  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah."  Saints  are  compared  to  Lions,  Prov.  xxviii.  I, 
"  The  righteous  are  bold  as  a  Lion."  In  1  Pet.  v.  8, 
Satan  is  said  to  be  "  going  about  like  a  roaring  Lion, 
seeking  whom  he  may  devour."  From  this  Lion  maj 
God  preserve  the  T\a\xv^  T«k.e.^\    AmeKx* 


163 


SERMON  XL 

THE    CHURCH   THE    STRONG   CITY. 
"  Walk  about  Zion,  and  go  round  about  her." — P%al,  xlviii.  12. 

Every  child  in  a  Gospel  land  should  be  able  to 
answer  the  question — "  What  is  the  Church  of  God?'* 
The  answer  is  very  plain,  and  easy  to  be  understood. 
The  Church  of  God  is  the  "  people  of  God."  Many 
striking  names  are  given  to  Christ's  Church  in  the 
Word  of  God.  One  of  them  is  "  a  City."  It  is  called 
the  City  of  God,  the  City  of  the  Great  King,  a  strong 
City  which  is  compact  together  ;  And  in  our  text  it  is 
called  Zion,  Mount  Zion,  or  the  City  of  Zion.  There 
was  within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  a  mount:  it  was 
called  Mount  Zion.  There  was  a  city  built  on  that 
mount,  very  strong,  very  high,  and  very  noble.  It  was 
called  the  City  of  Zion.  The  magnificent  Temple  of 
Solomon  was  built  on  that  mount,  and  in  that  city. 
And  in  Scripture,  God  employs  Zion,  Mount  Zion,  and 
the  City  of  Zion,  as  a  figure  of  his  Church. 

My  young  friends,  I  have  already  addressed  yon 
twice  on  the  Church  as  a  City.  In  the  month  of 
January  last  we  considered  the  Builder  of  the  City, 
namely,  Christ;  the  Inhabitants,  or  Citizens  of  the 
City,  namely,  trv>e  believers;  and  the  Road  leading  to 
the  City,  namely.  Repentance,  In  February  last  we 
considered  the  Gate  of  the  City,  namely,  the  Oate  of 
Conversion;  the  Walls  of  the  City,  namely,  Salva^ 
tion ;  and  the  Towers  of  the  City,  namely,  the  Divine 
Perfections — Wisdom,  Power,  Holiness,  Justice,  Good- 
ness, and  Truth. 

I  now  invite  you  a  third  time  to  come  and  look  at 
this  most  wonderful  City;  and  would  say,  in  the 
words  of  our  text,  "  Walk  about  Zion,  and  go  round 
about  her." 

Id  our  pleasing  walk  arouwd  awd  n^\\XCvcl  ^ve>^^"^\ 
ma^  the  Holy  Spirit  assist  ua  m  coxkS\d^TV^%  ^^7^^^^' 

M  2 


164  SERMON. 

the  Guards,  the  Watchmen,  the  Streets,  the  Palaces, 
the  Schools,  the  Bank,  the  Armoury,  the  Walks,  and 
the  Light  of  this  City  of  God, — the  City  of  Zion.  Let 
us  now  earnestly  pray :  "  Holy  Spirit,  give  tis  thy  gra- 
cious aid ;  O  give  us  thy  rich,  thine  effectual  bless- 
ing!"— Amen. 

THE   KING  OP   THE    CITY. 

The  King  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  King  is 
Jesus.  God  in  our  nature,  God  and  man  in  One  Per- 
son. He  could  not  be  the  King  of  the  City  unless  he 
had  died  for  it.  And  he  did  die  for  the  City,  and  he 
now  reigns  over  it,  and  shall  reign  for  ever.  And 
when  you,  my  dear  children,  take  Jesus  for  your  King, 
"  O  how  happy  you  shall  be !"  Ask  a  pious  child, 
"  What  kind  of  a  King  is  Jesus?"  and  the  child  will 
give  you  the  following  answer :  Jesus  is  a  rvise  King, 
"  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  are  laid  up  in  him." 
Jesus  is  a  powerful  King,  his  arm  is  almighty.  Jesus 
is  a  holy  King,  he  is  glorious  in  holiness.  Jesus  is  a 
just  King,  ''justice  and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of 
his  throne."  Jesus  is  a  merciful  and  faithful  King, 
"  mercy  and  truth  go  before  his  face.'*  O  what  a 
blessed  King  I  and  what  a  blessed  City  to  have  such  a 
blessed  King !  Let  each  child  now  pray,  "  O  Jesus, 
come  and  reign  over  me  ;  O  come,  and  reign  over  me 
for  ever  1" 

GUARDS   OP   THE   CITY. 

Jesus  is  the  Chief  Guard  of  the  City.  Psal.  cxxi.  4, 5, 

"  Behold,  he  that  keepeth  Israel  shall  neither  slumber 

nor  sleep.     The  Lord  is  thy  keeper :   the  Lord  is  thj 

shade  upon  thy  right  hand." 

'*  Just  as  a  hen  protects  her  brood, 
From  birds  of  prey  that  seek  their  blood. 
Under  her  feathers,  so  the  Lord 
Makes  his  o^n  B^im  Ma  people's  guard." 

Angels,  too,  areeTnpVo^e.3L\.o  ^\x»x\^^^\Vj.  CiV.'ifhtt 

a  blessed  child  is  a  piowa  ^i\iM,  S:ox  V^\v^%xv^fSa.VsC^ 

Tuards.      Thougli  lie  caimoX  ^^^  ^>^«a^  ^>2^  ^^  ^^^ 


3EBH0N.  16o 

his  bodj,  they  are  near  him,  ready  to  defend  him. 
Pious  children  are  often  carried  in  the  arms  of  angels 
when  they  do  not  know  it.  Psal  xci.  11,  12,  "For  he 
shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in 
all  thy  ways.  They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands, 
lest  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone." 

''  He  gives  his  angels  charge  to  keep 
Your  feet  in  holy  ways ; 
To  watch  your  pillow  while  you  sleep. 
And  guard  your  youthful  days." 

THE   WATCHMEN   OP   THE   CITY. 

There  are  ministerial  watchmen,  namely,  the  ministers 
of  Christ,  whom  he  has  qualified,  and  sent  to  preach 
his  glorious  Gospel.  Thus  he  speaks  of  them  in 
Isaiah  Ixii.  6  :  "  I  have  set  watchmen  upon  thy  walls, 
O  Jerusalem,  which  shall  never  hold  their  peace  day 
nor  night."  Dear  children,  thank  Jesus  for  such 
watchmen  ! 

There  Sire  parental  watchmen,  namely,  pious  parents. 
Jesus  gives  them  the  following  solemn  charge,  Eph. 
vi.  4,  **  Briog  up  your  children  in  the  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord."  Dear  children,  thank  Jesus 
for  such  watchmen  ! 

There  are  teaching  watchmen,  Eph.  i v.  11, 12,  "  And 
lie  gave  some,  teachers ;  for  the  edifying  of  the  body 
of  Christ."  Dear  children,  thank  Jesus  for  such 
watchmen  ! 

THE    STREETS   OP   THE   CITY. 

In  Song  iii.  2,  Christ's  beloved,  namely,  his  Church, 
is  represented  as  saying,  "  I  will  rise  now,  and  go 
about  the  city  :  in  the  streets,  and  in  the  broad 
ways,  I  will  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth."  Now 
look,  in  your  walk  within  this  city,  and  observe  three 
of  the  principal  streets. 

First, — There  is  the  Sigh  Street  of  faith.   From  this 
lofty  street  are  seen  blessed  views  o?  t\ie  ^«^'5  ^^  ^^^^^ 
Church  in  future  days,  and  blessed  viewa  oi\i^«NecL» 
Si^^^ju//y,— There  ia  the  Low  Street  o£\iumV^t^-'^'^^ 


166  SER|IOX. 

street  is  much  frequented.  And  when  holj  children 
walk  in  this  street  thej  appear  most  lovelj,  though 
they  consider  themselves  altogether  an  unclean  thing. 
Thirdly^ — There  is  the  Broad  Street  of  ohedience. 
There  are  ten  parts  in  this  street.  The  first  division  is 
the  first  commandment,  and  the  last  division  the  tenth. 
The  Psalmist,  speaking  of  this  street,  says,  it  is  "  ex- 
ceeding broad,"  Psal.  cxix.  96.  This  street  is  re- 
markably straight,  clean,  and  cheerful.  Pious  chil- 
dren walking  in  it  are  often  heard  to  chaunt  and  sing, 

"  Oh,  how  I  love  thy  holy  law : 
'Tis  daily  my  delight; 
And  thence  my  meditations  draw 
Divine  advice  by  night," 

THE    SCHOOLS   OP   THE   CITY. 

There  is  the  School  of  the  LaWy  which  the  Apostle 
calls  "  a  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  to  Christ,**  Gal. 
iii.  24.  There  is  the  School  of  the  OospeL  There, 
the  young  scholar  studies  '^  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ,"  and  the  glories  of  heaven.  There  is  the 
School  of  Affliction^  where  the  young  scholar  makes 
great  progress  in  humility,  heavenly-mindedness,  and 
faith.  Oh,  what  a  difference  there  is  upon  the  scholar 
when  he  comes  out  of  this  school,  from  what  he  was 
when  he  went  in ! 

THE   PALACES  OP   THE   CITY. 

David  makes  mention  of  the  palaces  in  Psal.  zlviii.  3. 
"  God  is  known  in  her  palaces  for  a  refuge."  By  the 
Palaces,  we  are  to  understand  the  ordinances  of  reli- 
gion. What  are  the  ordinances  ?  We  answer,  Prayer, 
praise,  the  reading,  preaching,  and  hearing  the  word 
of  Gt)d,  are  ordinances.  These  are  the  palaces  of  the 
city.  It  is  there  King  Jesus  is  seen  :  it  is  there 
petitions  are  presented  to  him :  it  is  there  they  are 
answered:  it  is  there  spiritual  wealth  and  honours 
are  received  fromK\T\g  Se^wa  \  wi^Sx.\^^«t^^^wr- 
sbip  with  King  Jesus  is  eivioy^^.  T^^«c  Occ^^x^si^tms) 
ti  greatlj  love,  and  dai\y  ^«^^*  V\ie^^  ^ti^^wa^X  'SSbr 


8BBM0K.  167 

)rs  of  these  palaces  are  ever  open.  They  are  free 
all. 

THE   PLEASURE   WALKS   OP   THE   CITY. 

There  is  the  private  retired  walk  of  Holy  Meditation. 
^  what  happ7  moments  the  pious  child  has  in  this 
Ik)  thinking  of  Christ  and  heaven  I 
There  is  the  more  public  walk  of  Holy  Fellowship, 
ire,  pious  children  hold  fellowship  together  in 
ijer,  praise,  and  holy  converse.  There  is  a  lovely 
cription  over  the  beautiful  gate  at  the  entrance  of 
s  walk.  Mai.  iii.  16,  "  Then  they  that  feared  the 
rd  spake  often  one  to  another  ;  and  the  Lord 
irkened,  and  heard  it."  Those  dear  children  who 
quent  these  walks  often  say,  "  Truly  our  fellow- 
p  is  with  the  Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus 
rist."     1  John  i.  3. 

THE   BAKK  OP   THE   CITr. 

The  bank  of  the  city  is  the  Covenant  of  Grace, 
I,  it  is  a  rich  bank,  for  it  contains  all  the  blessings  of 
vation.  Oh,  how  rich,  for  it  contains  grace  here, 
i  glory  hereafter.  It  is  a  sure  bank.  Its  treasures 
5  called,  (Isa.  Iv.  3,)  "  the  sure  mercies  of  David."  It 
%  strong  bank  ;  it  can  never  be  robbed  ;  it  can  never 
L  Dear  children,  it  is  a  free  bank, — ^yes,  a  free 
ice  bank.  Every  child  is  welcome  to  apply,  and  as 
en  as  he  pleases ;  the  oftener  he  comes  he  is  the 
►re  welcome  to  come  and  receive  of  its  boundless 
asures. 

THE    ARMOUBY  OF   THE   CITY. 

A.11  pious  children  are  soldiers  ;  they  are  the  sol- 
Ts  of  Christ,  the  Captain  of  salvation.  The  young 
ritual  soldier  needs  something  with  which  to  defend 
n  from  his  spiritual  enemies.  He  needs  something 
th  which  to  attack  them.  What  he  nefc^a  ^qpc  ^<^- 
36,  and  for  attack,  is  called  arfnx)ur*  An  armoury 
he  house  which  contains  the  armour,    ^^hi  ^^^ 


168  SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

city,  the  Churcli,  has  an  armoury  filled  with  armour 
for  the  young  soldiers.  The  Apostle  gives  the  following 
account  of  it,  Eph.  vi.  14 — 17.  There  is  th^  helmet 
of  salvation  ;  the  breastplate  of  righteousness ;  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit ;  the  girdle  of  truth.  The  shoes 
are  the  preparation  of  the  Gospel  of  peace  ;  and  for  the 
complete  defence  of  the  soul,  there  is  the  shield  of 
faith.  We  must  reserve  the  consideration  of  this 
armour  to  some  future  time.  Young  friends,  become 
Christ's  young  soldiers,  and  he  will  lead  you  to  victory 
and  heaven.  He  will !  "  Be  faithful  unto  death,  and 
he  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life."    Rev.  ii.  10. 

THE  LIGHT   OP  THE   CITY, 

Jesus  is  the  Sun  of  Righteousness^  who  has  risen  on 
this  city,  who  shines  upon  it,  and  who  shall  shine  upon 
it  for  ever.     Mai.  iv.  2.  ^     '  • 

The  Bible  is  the  moon  which  reflects  ihelfi^of 
Jesus,  the  bright  beams  of  Christ's  light,  fta^j^MUeh 
guide  the  heaven-bound  traveller  to  his  gloildMiMM. 

Good  books,  displaying  and  illustrating  gol^piipMli) 
are  stars  which  shine  in  the  firmament  of  tfae'CMIIii. 

Oh  may  each  one  of  us  belong  to  that  bleflB^  Wf^of 
which  it  is  said,  (Isa.  Ix.  20,)  "Thy sun  shall  no Biore 
go  down  ;  neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw  itself:  for 
the  Lord  shall  be  thine  everlasting  light,  and  the  days 
of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended." 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

THE   DEER. 

"  Until  the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away,  turn,  my 
beloved,  and  be  thou  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart  upon  tlie 
mountains  of  spices." — Song  ii.  17. 

Deer  belong  to  the  flock  kind,  and  are  clean  animals, 
dividing  the  hoof,  and  c\y^vj\ti^  \^^^  <5.\xftu    T.Vki^\fi«ka 
kkfre  adorned  with  stately  \>TiiTiODAT^%VoT\i^,^\a^^^ 
yearly.     At  first  tbey  axe  ^oit,  ^Q^«t^^\^\«a 


SACBSD   ZOOLOQT.  169 

:rvrards  they  become  smooth,  and  bard  almost 

e  Deer  genus  there  are  aenen  distinct  liinds  or 
differing  from  each  other  in   most  material 


but  in  ethers  beanng  a  general  rcHemblance 
iijirst  the  CamelopM^is  or  G  raffe,  a  native 
a  about  fourteen  feet  h  gh  The  Elk  a  very 
runs  wild  in  the  forests  of  Bed  Rubs  a  Ibe 
,  or  Stag,  baa  long  branching  borna  bent  back- 
?he  Tarandus,  or  Rein-deer,  is  %  iiBL\iv6  (Aliw^ 
To  the  Luplandera  this  animal  ia  \.\ie  6w>is.\\\>iWj 
i»e,  the  cow,  the  goat,  and  ttie  ts^ieev-  ^^  ^^ 
wealth.     The  Dama,  ako  c^e4XV''S»S»''^^"- 


170  SACRED   ZOOLOGT. 

deer,  Buck,  and  Doe,  is  found  in  Greece,  the  Holy 
Land,  and  in  the  north  of  China.  They  abound  mudi 
in  Britain,  in  the  parks  of  the  noble  and  opulent.  The 
Capreolus,  or  Roe-buck,  has  erect  beautiful  branched 
horns.  It  is  the  least  of  the  deer  kind.  It  is  remark- 
able for  its  elegance  and  agility.  They  were  once 
numerous  in  the  beautiful  forests  of  Invercauld,  in  the 
midst  of  the  Grampian  hills.  It  is  said,  there  is  a 
seventh  species  found  in  Guinea,  called  the  Guine-ensis, 
about  the  size  of  a  cat. 

It  is,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  the  peculiarity  of 
every  species  of  the  Deer,  that  they  are  timorous  and 
swift.  Their  thirst  is  often  intense  and  painfuL  Hence 
David  says,  Psalm  xlii.  1,  ''  As  the  hart  panteth  after 
the  water- brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee^  0 
God." 

**  With  earnest  longings  of  the  mind. 

My  God,  to  thee  I  look ; 
So  pants  the  hanted  hart  to  find 

And  taste  the  cooling  brook." 

In  moving  among  rocks,  the  Deer  have  great  sure* 
ness  and  firmness  of  foot.  This  is  employed  in  Scrip- 
ture as  a  figurative  illustration  of  the  firmness  and 
security  of  the  believer's  faith.  Psnlm  xviii.  33,  "He 
maketh  my  feet  like  hinds'  feet,  and  setteth  me  upon 
my  high  places."  And  in  Hab.  iii.  19,  '^  He  will  make 
my  feet  like  hinds'  feet,  and  he  will  make  me  to  walk 
upon  my  high  places." 

Jacob,  on  his  death-bed,  blessed  his  sons.     There  is 

something  peculiar  in  the  blessing  which  he  pronounced 

on  his  son  Naphtali.   It  runs  in  the  following  terms:-' 

Gen.  xlix.  21,  '^Naphtali  is  a  hind  let  loose;  he  givetii 

goodly  words."      In  some  versions,   the   expresuon 

goodly  words  is  rendered  beautiful  branches.    If  tins 

be  correct,  the  figure  is  most  complete  and  striking. 

The  blessing  would  x^ad  lVm%  \   ^'  Naphtali  is  a  YasH 

let  loose ;    shooting   £ott\i  ^w^ax-^  XycvM^aRaT     The 

goodly  branches^  in  t\\\ft  caae^  ^«ii^\.^  ^^5^  TtfJ^JssK*^ 

majestic   antlers.      T\i\a  U^^V^.^  ^«^  ^  \5«*&^ 


NAMES   AND   TITLES  OF   JESUS.  171 

literally  accomplished  in  the  future  history  of  the 
descendants  of  Naphtali.  What  Jacob  meant  and 
foresaw  was  this  :  "  Naphtali  shall  inhabit  a  country 
so  rich,  so  fertile,  so  quiet,  so  unmolested,  that,  after 
having  fed  to  the  full,  on  the  most  nutritious  pasturage, 
he  shall  shoot  out  branches ;  that  is,  antlers  of  the  most 
majestic  magnitude."  The  lot,  or  division,  which  fell 
to  this  tribe,  was  rich  in  pasture,  and  his  soil  was 
fruitful  in  corn  and  oil.  It  was  a  beautiful  wood-land 
country,  extending  to  Mount  Lebanon,  and  producing 
fruit  of  the  greatest  variety,  and  of  the  most  delicious 
quality. 

Our  Lord  is  likened  to  a  Roe,  a  Hart,  and  a  Hind, 
to  denote  his  loveliness,  and  his  speed  in  coming  for  our 
deliverance.  Hence  the  Church  prays  with  longing 
expectation,  (Song  viii.  14,)  **  Make  haste,  my  beloved, 
and  be  thou  like  to  a  roe  or  to  a  young  hart  upon  the 
mountains  of  spices." 

The  pious  child,  lying  upon  the  bed  of  sickness  and 
of  pain,  earnestly  longs  to  depart,  to  reach  his  heavenly 
home,  and  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better.  How 
delightful  it  is  to  hear  the  young  dying  saint  uttering 
the  following  prayer  : — 

"  Come,  my  Jesus,  haAt«  away, 
Cut  short  the  hours  of  thy  delay ; 
Fly  like  a  youthful  hart  or  roe, 
Over  the  hills  where  spices  grow." 

Watts,  Book  I.  H.  28. 

"  Blessed  Jesus,  may  the  heavenly  Canaan  be  our 
inheritance !     Amen." 


KAMES  AND  TITLES  OP  JESUS,  ALPHABBTICALLT 

ARRANGED. 

In  out  Januaiy  Number  we  considered  three  names  of  Jesus, 
beginning  with  the  letter  A ;  namely.  Alien,  All  in  all,  and 
Almiohty.    Beloved  young  friends,  may  the  names  of  Jesus  be 
precious  to  your  souls.    Pray,  oh  pray  ferveivtVj  m\Xi>3fiifc  V'smX, 
that  you  m&jr  he  enabled  to  say  and  Bing — 

"  O  bow  I  love  his  charming  nasne^ 
'Tia  music  to  my  ear  I" 


172  NAMES  AMD  TITLES   OF   JE8U& 

We  now  invite  your  attention  to  the  following  names 
an  Altar,  the  Altogetfier  lovely,  the  Alpha,  and  the^ 

Altar. — Heb.  xiii.  10,  "  We  have  an  Altar,  whereof 
no  right  to  eat  which  serve  the  Tabernacle."  That  on 
Jewish  sacrifices  were  presented  in  the  Temple  was 
Jesus  presented  a  sacrifice  to  satisfy  ofifended  justice  fo 
The  sacrifice  was  his  human  nature — his  soul  and  b 
what  was  the  Altar  on  which  the  sacrifice  was  present 
his  DiviiTB  Nature  !  That  was  the  Altar.  It  was  1 
that  glorious  Divine  Nature,  which  gave  the  sacrifice 
less  worth.  And  it  is  through  Christ  that  the  praye: 
and  the  praises  we  sing,  are  acceptable  to  Gk>d.  Dear 
you  say,  Jesus  is  my  Altar?    Then,  you  are  blessed  o: 

Altogether  Lovely. — Song  v.  10—16,  *'  My  belovi 
and  ruddy,  he  is  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousands, 
gether  lovely."  The  most  excellent  of  saints  on  earth '. 
spots  and  blemishes.  We  cannot  say  of  any  believei 
cveathe  holiest  and  the  best,  "  He  is  sdtogether  lovely.' 
only  be  said  of  Jesus.  In  the  graces  of  his  humani 
altogether  lovely."  In  the  perfections  of  his  Divini 
altogether  lovely."  In  his  offices  and  relations,  "  H> 
ther  lovely."  Let  each  child  now  pray,  "  O  Jesus,  be 
GETHER  Lovely  of  my  heart !" 

Alpha. — Rev.  i.  8,  "  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the 
and  the  Ending."  The  first  letter  in  the  Greek  a 
Alpha.  It  is  the  same  in  sound  as  the  letter  "A,"  the 
in  our  alphabet.  Why  is  Jesus  called  Alpha?  Bee 
First.  He  ia  first  as  to  being,  he  is  from  eternity, 
for  he  gave  all  things  their  being.  He  is  first,  as  to 
He  is  infinitely  above  all  kings,  and  above  all  ange 
humanity  he  is  first.  He  is  the  ''First-bom  am 
brethren,"  Rom.  vili.  29.  Toung  friends,  may  Jesi 
Alpha  !  Every  morning  may  he  have  your  first  thoi 
may  he  have  yoar^r*^,  your  early  days ! 

Amen. — Rev.  iii.  14.  "  These  things  saith  the  Amxh, 
ful  and  true  witness,  the  beginning  of  the  creatioi 
**  Amen"  is  a  Hebrew  word.  It  signifies  truth  and  tnt 
added  to  a  prayer  it  means  this,  "  May  the  prayer  non 
be  really  and  trtdy  answered."  Why  is  Jesufl  caXM 
Because,  first,  he  is  the  true  God ;  secondly,  he  i 
Saviour ;  thirdly,  he  is  the  substance  of  all  divine  tmth 
he  teaches  little  children  the  truth  by  his  Spirit ;  Ji 
the  true  Prophet ;  sixtJUy,  he  is  the  true  Witness  ;  ana, 
the  promises  are  in  Him,  and  shall  be  truly  fulfilled. 

Anchor.— Heb.  Vi.  \^ , "  '^\C\cfeL'W^^  ^^\isw^^  «a  mi 

the  soul,  both  sure  and  a\^d^?ia\.  *'     K\i  wvsStiw  ^1  ^  iSeS 

heavy  piece  of  Iron,  lengV^ci^^d  ^^"^^  \\.  W  «ii^ 

riiig; to  wliicb  a  great  lo^'^^^Xfti^^^,  «w\\^^« 


NAMES  AXD   TITLES   OF   JESUS.  173 

piece  of  iron  crosses  the  other  end  of  the  anchor,  like  two  large 
r.  When  the  anchor  is  let  down  these  powerful  claws  lay 
of  the  ground ;  thus  the  ship  is  kept  safe  in  one  place,  and 
»nted  from  being  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  shore.  ^  ow,  apply 
<}  Jesus.  The  soul  resembles  a  ship.  The  Anchor  is  Jesus, 
^yiour.  Faith  is  the  strong  rope,  which  is  fastened  to 
<,  tJie  Akchor.  Thus,  the  soul  is  safe ;  yes,  safe  from  every 
er,  and  safe  in  every  storm.  Oh,  may  you  sing  these  lines 
the  heart : — 

''  Amidst  temptations  sharp  and  long. 
My  soul  to  my  dear  Jesus  flies ; 
He  is  my  Anchor,  firm  and  strong, 
While  tempests  blow  and  billows  rise." 

fCiBirr  OP  Days. — Dan.  vii.  9,  "  I  beheld  till  the  thrones 
cast  down,  and  the  Ancient  of  Days  did  sit,  whose  garment 
vhite  as  snow,  and  the  hair  of  his  head  like  the  pure  wool." 
lave  in  our  land  ancient  buildings.  We  have  ancient  moun- 
,  which  have  stood  in  their  majesty  since  the  world  was 
} ;  but  there  is  nothing  so  ancient  as  Christ.  As  God,  he  is 
the  beginning :  Oh,  how  ancient  1  As  God,  he  is  from  eter- 
:  Oh,  how  ancient !  Oh,  join  with  me  in  thus  addressing 
j: — 

"  Thy  names,  how  infinite  they  be. 
Thou  great  Eternal  One  ! 
From  everlasting,  thou  art  He 
Who  fills  the  heavenly  throne  !" 

fOEL. — Gen.  xlviii.  16,  "  The  Angel  which  redeemed  me 
all  evil,  bless  the  lads."  Isa.  Ixiii.  9,  "  In  all  their  afflic- 
he  was  afflicted,  and  the  Angel  of  his  presence  saved  them." 
il  signifies  messenger:  and  Jesus  is  called  an  "Angel," 
ise  he  is  his  Father's  messenger.  His  Father  sent  him  from 
en  to  earth,  with  a  message  of  mercy  and  of  grace  to  ruined 
And  he  now  speaks  to  little  children  in  the  Gospel  of 

yve. 

"  The  Angel  of  the  Cov'nant  stands. 
With  his  commission  in  bis  hands, 
Sent  from  his  Father's  milder  throne. 
To  make  his  great  salvation  known." 

7TB0R  OP  Faith. — Heb.  xii.  2,  "  Looking  unto  Jesus,  the 
aoK  and  Finisher  of  our  faith."    Whatever  a  man  makes,  he 
e  avJfJuyr  of  it.    Faith  is  a  divine  grace.    It  is  hj  faith  the 
child  sees  Christ,  receives  Christ,  leans  on  Christ.    Who 
e  faith  1    Who  gives  faith?    Who  preaexyea ia\l\i\    CS^ts&X,. 
s  the  "Author  and  the  Finisher  of  faith." 
B  Author  of  Eternal  Salvation. — ^Heb.  'V.^,  ""Rft^a^CKcaft 
uTHOB  of  etenwl  s&lvsLiion  to  all  them  t\a»it  o\>c:j  \jmsl! 


174  THE    BIBLE. 

By  his  diTinity  he  contriyed  the  plan  of  salvation:  he  ia  tbere* 
fore  its  Aathor.  He  became  man,  obeyed,  suffered,  and  died  to 
obtain  salvation:  he  is  therefore  its  Author.  He  besiovi 
salvation  on  all  who  obey  him ;  on  all  who  hear  his  caUi  of 
mercy,  and  come  to  him. 

Dear  child,  flee  to  Him,  accept  his  invitations  of  love,  reoeiro 
Him,  and  He  will  be  the  Author  of  your  salvation,  and  give  yoa 
at  death  a  place  beside  Him  on  his  Uirone. 


THE  BIBLE. 

REHABKABLE  EFFECT  OF  THE  ELOQUENCE  OF  THB  LATE  BIV.  J.  BOOOS, 

OF  DEJ>HAM,  ESSEX. 

I  HAVE  read  the  following  remarkable  narrative  in  a  sennonof 
the  learned  and  pioas,  the  Eev.  John  Howe*s.  The  seimon 
is  on  the  Principles  of  the  Oracles  of  God.  He  says,  "Itm 
related  to  me  by  the  Rev.  Thos.  Godwin,  when  he  was  presideBt 
of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford.  He  told  me,  that  being  bimad^ 
in  the  time  of  his  youth,  a  student  at  Cambridge,  and  having 
heard  much  of  Mr.  Bogers,  of  Dedham,  in  Essex,  he  purpoielj 
took  a  journey  from  Cambridge  to  Dedham,  to  hear  him  preadi 
on  his  lecture  day ;  the  lecture  then  so  strangely  thronged  sod 
frequented,  that  to  those  who  came  not  very  early,  there  wis 
no  possibility  of  getting  room  in  that  very  spacious  church. 
Mr.  Rogers,  as  he  told  me,  at  the  time  he  heard  him,  wai 
preaching  on  the  subject  of  discourse,  which  hath  been  for  &ome 
time  the  subject  of  mine — the  Scriptures.  And  in  Uiat  sennoB 
he  falls  upon  an  expostulation  with  the  people  on  their  neglect  of 
the  Bible.  He  personates  God  to  the  people,  telling  tlKn, 
*  Well,  I  have  so  long  trusted  you  with  my  Bible  !  Yon  hire 
slighted  it.  It  lies  in  such  and  such  houses,  all  covered  witli 
dust  and  cobwebs ;  you  care  not  to  look  into  it.  Do  yon  nae  nij 
Bible  so  1  You  shall  have  my  Bible  no  longer.'  And  he  tikei 
the  Bible  from  his  cushion,  and  seems  as  if  he  were  going  an^ 
with  it,  and  carrying  it  from  them;  but  immediately  tm 
again,  and  pcrsouating  the  people  to  God,  falls  on  his  knea^ 
cries,  and  pleads  most  earnestly ;  '  Lord,  whatRoever  thou  doeit 
to  us,  take  not  thy  Bible  from  us  ;  kill  our  children,  bum  onr 
houses,  destroy  our  goods,  only  spare  us  thy  Bible !  only  take 
not  away  thy  Bible  ! ' 

"  Then  he  personates  God  again  to  the  people :  '  Say  yoo sol 

Well,  I  will  try  you  a  little  longer,  and  here  is  my  Bible  for  yoo, 

and  I  will  see  how  you  use  it ;  whether  you  will  love  it  more; 

whether  you  will  \a\ue  \\)  moxft\  "whether  you  will  oheerre  it 

more;  whether  you  wV\\  pTWi\.\afc\\.  TELOt^^^sAVCT^TSkssttvaari- 

"^^BVtiiese  means,  (j«t\ieDo<i\.ox\^\^m^;i>aftYQi^^^«»- 


n 


MISSIONARY  INTELLIGENCE.  175 

ion  into  so  strange  a  postare^  that  he  never  ww  any 
gation  in  his  life.  The  place  was  a  mere  Bochim,  the 
generally  deluged,  as  it  were,  with  their  own  tears  ! 
e  told  me,  that  he  himself,  when  he  got  out,  and  was  to 
orse  again  to  be  gone,  was  &in  to  himg  a  quarter  of  an 
pon  the  neck  of  his  horse  weeping,  before  he  had  power  to 
,  so  strange  an  impression  was  there  on  him,  and  generally 
he  people,  on  having  been  thus  expostulated  with  for  the 
b  of  the  Bible  !" 


MISSIOISTARY   INTELLIGENCE. 

TORNADO. 

LT  is  a  Tornado  1  It  is  a  dreadful  storm  of  wind,  more 
ir  to  countries  in  warm  climates.  The  following  is  an 
t  of  a  dreadful  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  which  visited 
lia,  a  section  of  the  Hervey  group  of  islands,  in  the  far 
;  Pacific  Ocean.  In  Mangaia,  the  preaching  of  the 
,  and  schools,  have  been  crowned  with  the  most  encourag- 
ocess.  The  following  description  is  given  of  a  tempest 
visited  that  island  on  February  10th,  and  which  was 
d  at  intervals,  with  destructive  violence,  imtil  March  17th, 
>y  the  Rev.  George  Gill : — 

four  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning,  March  17th,  we  were 
►ed  from  sleep  by  the  bursting  open  of  all  our  windows 
reat  violence.  The  wind  was  roaring  like  thunder,  and 
was  furiously  dashing  its  waves  upon  the  reef.  The  whole 
was  alarmed,  and  in  great  confusion.  In  the  darkness  of 
ur,  the  foam  of  the  billows  and  the  waves  gave  us  light, 
readful  was  our  suspense  and  anxiety  in  waiting  for  the 
As  dawn  appeared,  the  wind  and  sea  increased  in  violence, 
3ry  thing  seemed  to  be  doomed  to  destruction.  The  stones 
le  beach,  carried  by  the  wind  like  hail,  fell  upon  us,  and 
)ur  windows,  and  the  whole  house  itself  was  rocking.  Mrs. 
d  our  dear  babe  hurried  outside,  and  for  more  than  an 
ere  supported  by  natives  surrounding  them,  as  it  was  im- 
e  to  stand  without  help,  or  to  seek  a  shelter,  in  conse- 
of  the  violence  of  the  wind.  There  we  stood  in  dreadful 
',  drenched  to  the  skin,  and  watching  the  falling  of  houses 
}es,  and  the  rolling  of  the  sea.  Who  can  describe  the 
'  of  that  hour  !  Our  dwelling-house  was  roofless,  and  the 
snds  had  fallen.  The  house  in  which  we  kept  our  stores- 
0  shivered  and  rocking,  and  almost  roofless.  The  rain 
•ell  in  torrents  ;  we  were  without  shelter,  and  tremhlvaj^ 
Id.  The  Datives  gathered  round  us  for  co\m»^  mA  ^wsv- 
i  I  was  nnable  to  speak,  either  to  direct  ox  (iOTiS«Afe.  ^^^V 
tlwe  there  was  an  awful  shriek  I     It  rent  VJiafc  «:vt,«DA. 


176  KEVIEW — SELECT   SENTENCfi. 

seemed  to  be  louder  and  higher  than  the  roar  of  winds  and  waves. 
The  natives  observed  that  the  wind  had  changed,  and  had  assnined 
the  character  of  a  whirlwind.  Every  part  of  the  village  was  caught 
by  its  violence,  and  the  tallest  trees,  with  more  than  fifty  houses, 
fell  in  a  moment.  Still  all  was  not  done.  The  winds  again 
roared,  and  the  waters  thundered ;  trees,  as  they  were  broken, 
were  tossed  in  the  air,  and  were  seen  turning  rapidly,  like  wheels. 
I  had  left  the  tree  near  to  which  I  was  standing,  to  lake  my  posi- 
tion near  to  another,  whence  I  could  command  a  longer  view  of 
the  village.  I  observed  the  sea  again  rushing  upon  the  shore,  and 
with  it  came  a  stronger  gust  than  we  had  yet  felt.  The  very  Isnd 
seemed  to  shake.  Seven  large  houses  fell,  with  the  school-houses 
and  the  old  chapel,  which  was  more  than  120  feet  long  and  86 
feet  wide.  I  was  blown  down  and  bruised  by  the  gust;  bat^ 
^covering,  I  seized  a  young  tree  to  support  myself,  and  looking 
around  me  upon  the  beach,  I  could  see  no  house  standing.  I 
looked  towards  the  new  chapel  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  greatij 
rejoiced  to  see  it  standing,  although  I  perceived  the  roof  modi 
injured.  But  another  moment,  and  another  gust — and  it  wis 
not !  The  building  rocked — then  it  was  lifted  up — and  I  saw  it 
fall !  Alas,  alas  !  my  heart  was  just  broken.  This  hurricnne 
extended  around  the  whole  island.  The  two  inland  stations  tie 
desolated  ;  the  chapels,  the  schools,  and  the  dwellings  <tf  tiie 
natives,  all  levelled  to  the  ground."  Mercy  was  mingled  with 
judgment ;  not  one  life  was  lost ! 


REVIEW. 

Hhymes  worth  Remembering,  For  the  T'oung,  Bif 
the  Author  of  "  Important  Truths  in  Smj^ 
Verse,*^ 

This  little  work  is  admirably  suited  to  the  tento 
and  jouthful  mind.  It  is  a  moral  and  spiritual  noee* 
gaj,  beaming  with  beauty,  and  exhaling  the  most 
refreshing  fragrance.  It  is  attracting,  animating,  and 
instructive ;  recommending  itself  by  the  piety  which 
it  breathes^  and  the  poetical  originality  and  affectioiuUe 
simplicity  which  it  displays.  May  the  Holy  Spirit 
crown  the  work  with  his  blessing  ! 


FsAJL  OF  God. — "  "What  "v^  at^  ^Swiv.^  \ft  d«  \^<(st^  nao^^^^ 
Ahonld  be  afndd  ta  tTiirOc  \>eioTft  OodJ^    ^«t.  ^^i^ V^,— iyr.«»«u 


177 


SERMON  XIL 

DANGER  OP.  DESPISING   GOd'S  WORD. 
t  despiseth  the  word  shall  be  destroyed." — Prov.  ziii.  18. 

»  has  three  books.  He  speaks  in  each.  All 
:hree  contain  his  word.  God's  word  is  in  the 
>f  Creation.  Fsal«  xix.  4.  His  words  in  that 
*  have  gone  to  the  end  of  the  world."  God's 
s  in  the  book  of  Providence,  He  speaks  to  us 
events  of  his  providence;  in  the  comforts  or 
)ns  which  his  providence  sends,  he  speaks.  He 
'  I  am  merciful,  and  I  am  sovereign."  God's 
s  especially  in  the  book  of  Revelation.  That 
Bible,  which  was  as  really  made  by  God,  as  the 
le  moon,  and  the  stars.  God's  word  is  by  waj 
nence  in  this  book.  He  speaks  more  clearly, 
)lainly,  more  personally,  and  more  powerfully, 

I  the  other  two  books.     This  book  is  in  a  most 
able  sense  God's  word.    It  is  his  word  to  us^ 

to  me.     If  we  hear  it,  love  it,  believe  it,  we 
B  saved;  but  if  we  hate  it,  reject  it,  despise  it, 

II  be  destroyed.    Dear  children,  this  word  must 
trifled  with.     To  die  despising  it,  it  is  impos- 

lat  heaven  can  be  obtained.  To  die  despising 
miseries  of  hell  cannot  be  escaped.  They 
I  For  God  himself,  who  gives  us  this  word, 
ind  his  word  stands  more  sure  than  the  ever- 
mountains,)  "  Whoso  despiseth  the  word  shall  be 
ed." 

I  are  they  who  despise  God's  word  ?  Mark  the 
to  this  question.  Frayerless  children,  dis- 
it  children,  lying  cbildren,  swearing  children, 
Idren,  thieving  children,  Sabbath-breaking  chil* 
nd  Christ-rejecting  children  ;  these  are  children 
spise  God's  word  ;  and  if  they  die  as  tbe^  liiQe-^ 
all  he  destroyed ;  they  must  pen&h,  Wxe^  <^^ii:(io\. 

*' Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy  wpdu  VSi^os  ^sA 
heir  hearts,  and  save  their  souAaV* 


178  SERIION. 

Bj  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  wi 
sider  seven  words  of  God,  and  show  that  tl 
despise  them  shall  be  destroyed. 

I.  God's  commanding  wm^d, — It  is  in  the  Tc 
mandments  God  gives  his  commanding  word, 
commands  are  holy,  just,  and  kind.     He  wl 
mands  you,  dear  children,  to  obey,  promises  ( 
enable  you  to  obey.     Oh,  how  kind!     They 
commands  of  a  Father,  of  a  King,  of  a  God. 
come  from  love  ;  but  they  come  also  from  aatl 
well  as  love.     They  are  given  by  the  love  of  a 
they  are  given  by  the  authority  of  a  King, 
this!     Is  it  dangerous   to  despise  the   comi 
word  of  an  earthly  king  ?     How  dangerous 
be  to  despise  the  commanding  word   of  th 
of  kings  !     How  dangerous  it  must  be  to  des 
commanding  word  of  the   great   God,   wt 
heaven,   earth,   and  hell  1     I  beseech  you,  1 
this  I     Think  not  that  you  can  posssibly  escap 
live  and  die  despising  God's  commanding  won 
cannot ;  it  is  impossible.     Do  not  deceive  yo 
with  false  hopes  !     He  may  punish  you  here 
not,  he   will  punish  you  in   hell.     Fearful,  i 
thought !     Eph.  V.  6,  "  The   wrath  of  God 
upon  the  children  of  disobedience." 

II.  God's  roaming  word, — How  does  Qc 
young  sinners  ?    He  tells  them  the  danger  of 
sin.     He  warns  them  of  the  evil  and  danger  < 
company.     He  tells  them  that  a  ^*  companion 
shall  be  destroyed,"  Prov.  xiii.  20.     He  wan 
of  the  evil  and  danger  of  profane  swearing, 
them,  Exod.  Xx.  7,  that  he  "  will  not  hold  hii 
less  who  takes  his  name  in  vain."     In  Rev.  X3 
warns  them  of  the  evil  and  danger  of  lying, 
he  says,  that  ^'  all  liars  shall  have  their  par 
iake  that  burns  with  fire  and  brimstone.''     Go 
them  against  deBpiain^  CVrfvBX.  «cv^>k^'^  ^kaS^i^^c 
telJs  them,  Heb.  ii.  S,  X\:i«^^  ^>o^«^  ^»x«v^\.  t^a^^Kv 
"  neglect  so  great  aalv«AioTi:^    l&:i  1q^w^|,« 


SERMON.  179 

merciful  and  kind  it  is  in  God  to  give  such  warnings! 
Oh !  you  need  them ;  yes,  you  need  them  much.  If 
you  love  your  own  souls,  and  if  you  wish  to  escape 
everlasting  burnings,  do  not  despise  God's  warning 
word;  for  they  who  live  and  die  despising  it,  "  shall 
be  destroyed." 

III.  Gid's  threatening  word, — What  does  God  do 
when  he  threatens  ?  He  tells  the  rebellious  hardened 
sinner,  that  if  he  lives  and  dies  in  his  iniquity  and 
rebellion,  he  will  punish  him  with  a  heavy  punishment 
in  the  lowest  hell.  Why  does  God  threaten  ?  He 
does  it  in  mercy,  that  the  poor  thoughtless  sinner 
may  be  aroused  to  see  his  sin  and  danger.  It  is  that 
be  may  be  persuaded  to  forsake  his  sins  and  live.  Let 
us  now  look  at  some  of  God's  threatenings.  He  says, 
£xod.  xxxiv.  7,  "  I  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty;" 
that  is,  I  will  show  no  mercy  to  those  who  live  and 
die  despising  my  mercy.  There  is  another  threatening 
in  Psal.  xi.  6 :  "  Upon  the  wicked  he  shall  rain  snares, 
fire  and  brimstone,  and  an  horrible  tempest :  this  shall 
be  the  portion  of  their  cup."  A  great  divine  *  calls 
God's  threatenings  "  a  fence  placed  around  the  mouth 
of  hell,  to  prevent  poor  sinners  from  falling  in."  Dear 
children,  remember  that  hardened  sinners  who  despise 
God's  threatening  word  break  through  the  fence;  and, 
if  mercy  prevent  not,  they  must  be  destroyed. 

rV.  God's  reproving  voice, — To  rej)rove,  is  to  tell 
-one  of  his  faults.  It  is  to  tell  him  how  guilty  he  is  on 
account  of  his  sins.  It  is  to  tell  him  he  is  offending 
God.  It  is  to  tell  him  that  he  deserves  God's  wrath. 
God  reproves  all  kinds  of  sinners  in  his  word.  Sab- 
bath-breakers, liars,  swearers,  prayerless  persons,  dis- 
obedient to  parents,  are  all  reproved.  Young  friends, 
it  is  most  dangerous  to  despise  God's  reproving  word. 
Hear  what  God  says  of  those  who  despise  his  reproving 
word.  Prov.  xv.  10,  "  He  that  hateth  reproof  shall 
die."  Majr  this  sink  deep  into  your  \\ea\\.^.  ^^  ^^k^^ 
farther,  Prov.  xxix.  I,  «  He,  that  bem^  o^\,^w  t«^\^^^^ 

*  President  Daviea. 


180  8ERMON. 

hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and 
that  without  remedy."  Oh,  may  this  sink  deep  into 
your  hearts! 

V.  God's  calling  voice, — God  calls  on  poor  sinners 
in  his  word«  He  calls  mercifully  ;  he  calls  earnestly; 
he  calls  constantly  ;  he  calls  patiently.  Jesus  calls  on 
young  sinners  to  become  his  scholars.  He  says,  Matt 
xi.  29,  '*  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of 
heart"  Jesus  calls  upon  them  to  obey  him  and 
serve  him,  and  says,  "  Take  upon  you  my  yoke,  which 
is  easy,  and  my  burden,  which  is  light."  Matt  zi. 
29,  30.  He  calls  upon  them  to  escape  from  hell, 
sajing,  "  Escape  for  your  life."  Gen.  xix.  17.  He 
calls  upon  them  to  flee  to  heaven.  He  calls  on 
them  to  *'  lay  aside  every  weight,  and  to  run  the  race 
set  before  them  ;"  that  is,  the  race  which  leads  to 
heaven.  Heb.  xii.  1,  2.  How  infinitely  merciful  are 
these  calls  I  But  remember,  it  is  no  light  matter 
to  despise  them  ;  for  those  who  despise  them,  and 
who  die  despising  them,  must  be  destroyed.  Think 
on  what  God  says  of  those  who  despise  his  catling 
word^  and  then  despise  it  no  more  for  ever.  Prov.  L 
24 — 26  :  *^  Because  I  called,  and  ye  refused ;  I  have 
stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  regarded  ;  but  ye 
have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would  have 
none  of  my  reproof:  I  will  also  laugh  at  your  calamity, 
and  mock  when  your  fear  cometh."  Young  friendsi 
may  the  Holy  Spirit  deeply  affect  your  hearts  with 
the  solemn  truth,  that  '^  they  who  despise  6od*s  calling 
word  must  be  destroyed !" 

VI.  God's  promising  word. — The  Bible  is  full  of 
precious  promises.  Have  you  not  oflen.  wondered, 
after  the  sun  has  set,  when  you  have  looked  upward 
to  the  skies,  and  seen  the  myriads  of  lovely  twinkling 
stars?  Indeed,  they  are  wonderful.  Bat  I  can  tell 
you  something  far  more  wonderful, .  and  far  more  de* 
ligbtfah    What  is  \t?    Ix.  \^  \\i^Ta\^\!\\MAft!^  oC  i^recioof 

promises,  shining  in  aW  lYieiT  \oN^v£i^a»\i^\i^^Mi^^iMefc 
of  Scripture.     And,  md^fed,  t\iC5  ^^"^  ^R««:^^  ^>^ 


8ERM0N.  181 

precious.  "  They  are  more  precious  than  jewels, 
1  the  things  thou  canst  desire  are  not  to  be  com- 
to  them."  Let  us  now  look  at  some  of  these  pro- 
The  following  is  a  most  beautiful  promise  to 
jhildren.  Prov.  viii.  17,  "I  love  them  that  love 
and  those  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me.** 
id  are  those  children  who  believe  this  promise, 
seek  Jesus.  They  are  saved.  And  they  shall 
nth  him  for  ever  in  heaven.  But  multitudes 
lave  despised  this  promise  have  been  destroyed, 
ay  this  not  be  your  doom  !  Let  us  look  at  another 
tful  promise.  It  is  in  our  dear  Saviour's  Sermon 
J  Mount.  Matth.  vii.  7,  8,  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be 
you ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  it  shall 
jned  unto  you.  For  every  one  that  asketh,  re- 
h ;  and  he  that  seeketh,  findeth  ;  and  to  him  that 
eth,  it  shall  be  opened."  Oh  what  a  blessed,  what 
cious  promise  is  this.  There  are  many  dear 
en  in  heaven  who  believed  this  promise.  They 
^Id  of  it  with  the  hand  of  faith.  And,  when  they 
they  were  conveyed  to  heaven,  where  they  shall 
ppy  for  ever  and  ever.  But,  alas  !  alas !  there 
lany,  yes,  multitudes  in  hell,  who  despised  this 
sing  word,  and  now  they  are  receiving  the  re- 
3f  their  unbelief.  They  are  destroyed.  That  is, 
hopes  and  their  happiness  are  destroyed ;  yes, 
yed  for  ever.  God  forbid  that  this  should  be 
•iUf  to  despise  Christ's  promising  word!  God  for- 
lat  this  should  be  your  doonif  to  be  destroyed! 
ed  children,  lay  hold  on  these  precious  promises, 
th  believe  them.  Then  grace  will  be  your  por- 
ere,  and  glory  your  inheritance  hereafter. 
ttlt/f  God's  inviting  word, — The  blessings  of  sal- 
are  compared  to  a  feast.  **  Regeneration,  par- 
.  place  in  God's  family,  holiness,  and  grace,"  are 
Bssings  of  salvation.  They  are  a  fe«L«>\,,  ^Tv.0a.,^2CL 
ant,  and  a  delicious  feast,  provided  iox  \\\fe  %o\Jv. 
las  provided  the  feast.  And  Tie  acnda  \\\a  tmoxv^- 
y parents,  and  the  pious  iastrwctota  o^\)afeYvavK\% 


n 


ta 


turn  in  hither :  as  tor  him  that  wanteth  oa^B 
ahe  saith  to  him^  Come,  eat  of  my  brea^  fjjfi 
the  wine  which  I  have  mingled.  Fwaskq,^ 
and  live ;  and  go  in  the  wa^  of  uadttA 
Blessed,  blessed  invitation  !  To  you,  7001^ 
this  invitation  ia  most  assuredly  delivered.  '. 
ceive  it,  if  you  partake  by  faith  of  the  Gosp4 
that  is,  receive  Jesus  and  his  salvation, — you  tl 
at  death  the  joys  of  heaven.  But  the  trutl 
told :  they  who  die  refusing  and  deapising  the 
tions  of  mercy,  shall  be  destroyed !  Oh  may  tl 
ing  lines  sink  deep  into  all  your  hearts ! — 

"  Let  erery  mortat  ear  attend. 

And  er'r;  heart  rejoice ; 
The  trumpet  of  the  Qoepel  somids 

With  an  iiiTiUag  Toice. 
"  Ho  t  all  ye  hungry  atarving  soala 

That  feed  upon  the  wind. 
And  vainly  strive  with  eaithl;  toys 

To  fill  an  empty  mind. 
"  Eternal  Wiedtnn  has  prepared 

A  eoul-reviring  feast, 

ItiiI  hiili  vnnr  Innirmir  nnnBt.itM 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

THE   HEN. 

This  bird  is  only  mentioned  on  one  occasion  m 
Scripture  by  name.  Both  Matthew  and  Luke  intro- 
duce it  into  their  Gospels,  but  the  occasion  is  the 
same ;  namely,  when  our  Saviour  looked  upon  Jeta^ 
salem,  and  wept  orer  it.  He  thought  on  four  things 
connected  with  that  city— her  unequalled  priviteges,., 
the  astonishing  deliverances  Grod  had  accomplished  in 
her  behalf,  and  the  unparalleled  calamities  and  desola- 
tions which  awaited  her.  When  he  thought  of  all  this, 
he  wept  over  her,  and  gave  vent  to  the  following 
mournful  exclamation  :  "  0  Jerusalem,  JeruBalem,  thou 
that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest  them  which  were 
sent  unto  thee  ;  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy 
children  together,  even  as  a  Hen  gattieiefti^va  <im.«i*asQSi 
under  ber  wings,  and  ye  woa\&  iaot\  ^«X  ■^'^'*  ^"^^^ 
hoase  is  leA  unto  jou  desolate  V    "SlaM.Xi.  ■»»»-  'SI  >?«» 


184  SACBED   ZOOLOGT. 

There  is  an  allusion  made  to  the  tender  and  anxious  care 
of  this  bird,  in  the  following  words,  illustrative  of  6od*8 
watchful  care  of  his  people.  Psal.  xci.  4,  "  He  shall 
cover  thee  with  his  feathers,  and  under  his  wings  shalt 
thou  trust ;  his  truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler." 

The  Hex,  in  Omitholc^,  is  of  the  genus  Phaskaun, 
and  belonging  to  the  order  of  OaMruB,  There  are  eix 
species  in  this  order,  and  the  QaUus^  or  comnxm 
domesticated  cock  and  heriy  form  the  first  spedesof  the 
six.  They  are  worthy  of  this  place,  for,  of  all  the 
myriads  of  the  winged  tribes,  this  bird  renders  the 
greatest  service  to  man.  It  not  only  gives  its  eggs  for 
his  nourishment,  but  also  its  flesh  for  his  food.  la 
addition  to  this,  the  softer  portion  of  its  feathers  foims 
the  pillow  on  which  he  lays  down  his  weary  head,  to 
enjoy  his  slumber  and  repose. 

It  is  said  that  this  useful  bird  was  originally  intro- 
duced from  Persia.  Aristophanes  calls  the  Cock  the 
Persian  bird;  and  tells  us  he  enjoyed  that  kingdom 
before  some  of  its  earliest  monarchs. 

The  Hen  seldom  rears  more  than  one  brood  of 
chickens  in  a  season.  She  produces  sometimes  200 
eggs  in  a  year — much  more  than  she  can  possibly  hatch. 
This  superabundant  quantity  is  evidently  a  provision 
made  for  man,  and  illustrative  of  the  wisdom  and  good" 
ness  of  God.  The  Hen  is  not  particular  in  preparinga 
nest  for  her  eggs,  or  for  hatching  her  young.  She  ii 
perfectly  satisfied  with  a  hole  scratched  into  the  groiml 
among  a  few  bushes.  When  she  begins  to  sit  upon  her 
eggs,  nothing  can  equal  her  perseverance  and  pfitieiie& 
For  days  she  continues  immovable ;  and  when  foroei 
away  by  hunger,  she  speedily  returns.  When  the  eggl 
are  all  hatched,  she  leads  forth  her  o£Pspring  to  proviili 
for  their  support.  She  undergoes  herself  a  complete 
change.  She  is  no  longer  voracious  and  cowardly* 
She  abstains  from  all  food  which  her  young  can  swaUow, 
and  flies  boldly  at  every  cte«.\.\«^  ^^ax  ^^  ^hasaka  is 
likely  to  do  them  harm.  ^V«Jtc^«  ^^X^^^Jsas^^^ 
is,  whether  horse  or  m2a^«,  ^^«^  ^^1  ^Moi^>» 


FiaURATIYE  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  TH£  BIBLE.     185 

e  utters  a  variety  of  notes,  which  her  brood  per- 
tly understand.  By  these  she  calls  them  to  their 
»d,  or  warns  them  of  approaching  dangers.  It  is 
^cdiarly  interesting  to  see  the  Hen  covering  her 
)od  with  her  wings.  "  So  may  God  cover  us  with 
feathers,  and  under  his  wings  may  we  trust !" 

PIGUBATIVE  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  BIBLE, 
IN  ALPHABETICAL  ORDER. 

H '  Number  X.  we  considered  four  excellences  of  the  Bible, 
linnlng  with  the  letters  A,  B,  and  C.  In  humble  dependence 
the  aid  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  we  will  now  consider  the  Word  of 
1  as  a  Box  of  Jewels,  Bread,  a  Broad  Land,  a  Bunch  of  Flowers, 
Kmber  of  a  King,  Comforter,  Compass,  Cordial,  Counsellor, 
»wn,  and  Dainty  Food. 

)oz  OF  Jewels. — There  was  a  precious  box,  first  in  the  Taber- 
le,  and  afterwards  in  the  Temple ;  namely,  the  Ark  of  the 
renant.  It  was  covered  with  gold.  It  contained  ten  precious 
els,  namely,  the  Ten  Commandments.  The  Bible  is  a  more 
aable  box,  having  a  greater  quantity  of  precious  jewels.  There 
a  this  box  the  whole  will  of  God.  Here  there  are  jewels  of  pro- 
les,  jewels  of  precepts,  jewels  of  doctrines,  jewels  of  prophecies, 
lels  of  histories,  jewels  of  songs,  jewels  of  proverbs,  jewels  of 
ables,  and  jewels  of  prayers.  But  I  see  in  it  a  Jewel  more 
cions  than  them  all — Jesus,  the  Pearl  of  great  price  ! 
)beai). — In  Scripture,  bread  is  taken  to  mean  all  that  forms 
I  food  of  man,  or  all  that  is  necessary  for  his  nourishment  in 
!  maintenance  of  his  life.  Amazing  is  the  difference  betwixt 
:  soul  and  the  body.  But  in  this  thing  they  resemble  each 
.er — they  both  need  food,  or  bread,  for  their  nourishment  and 
afort.  Man  cannot  live  by  bread  alone;  that  is,  by  the  bread 
,t  perisheth.  The  regenerated  soul  lives  "by  every  word  that 
lO^^eth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God."  Matt.  iv.  i.  They  who 
d  the  Bible  with  understanding,  faith,  love,  and  personal 
ilicatlon,  depending  upon  the  Holy  Spirit,  feed  upon  it  as  the 
read  of  life,"  and  assuredly  shall  live  for  ever. 
L  Bsoad  Land. — From  the  beginning  of  Genesis  to  the  end  of 
Bevelation  it  evidently  appears  a  land  both  long  and  wide. 
3  Psalmist  says,  Psal.  cxix.  96,  "  Thy  commandment,"  that  is, 
Bible,  thy  Word,  "  is  exceeding  broad."  Oh,  how  long !  it 
ehes  back  into  eternity  past,  and  it  reaches  forward  into  eternity 
M>me.  Oh,  how  broad  !  for  it  spreads  over  the  vast  ex.tAiLt  ^t 
»tion,  providence,  and  grace. 

'^*Ti8  a  broad  land  of  wealth  unkno^wn, 
Where  springs  of  life  arise ; 

Seeds  of  immortal  bliss  are  sown. 
And  hidden  glory  liea." 


186     FIGURATIVE  ILLU8TKATI0NS  OF  THE  BIRLK. 

A  BuNOH  OF  Flowers. — The  Bible  is  a  garden  filled  with 
choicest  flowers.  The  chief  flower  we  see  in  Scripture  is  Jnua 
He  is  the  Rose  of  Sharon ;  he  is  the  Lily  of  the  valleys.  SongiL  1. 
The  promises  are  flowers.  They  are  flowers  of  great  beauty, 
great  variety,  and  great  fragrance.  The  believing  child  takies 
these  flowers  in  the  hand  of  £uth,  and  the  re&esldng  peifome 
revives  his  fainting  soul. 

A  Chamber  of  a  EiNO.—What  king  is  found  in  this  nugnifi- 
cent  chamber]  It  is  Kino  Jesus.  The  young  saint  comes  to  this 
lovely  royal  chamber,  here  to  see  King  Jesus.  Here  he  sees  the 
King  in  his  beauty,  his  mercy,  his  grace,  his  fulness,  his  com- 
passion, and  his  love.  As  the  sun  fills  the  firmament  with  his 
brightness,  Jesus  fills  this  noble  apartment  with  his  gloiy. 

A  Comforter. — What  does  the  holy  Psalmist  say  of  the  Word 
of  God  as  a  Comforter?  Psal.  cxix.  60,  "This,"  that  is,  thy 
word,  "is  my  comfort  in  my  affliction;  for  thy  word  hiSh 
quickened  me.'*  So  great  a  Comforter  is  Crod*s  word,  that  it 
enables  this  holy  man  to  sing  in  the  wilderness  songs  of  triaaph 
and  of  praise.  Ver.  54,  '•  Thy  statutes,**  that  is,  thy  word,  "hsfi 
been  my  songs  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrimage.*' 

A  Compass. — What  a  blessing  is  a  cmtvpaaa  /  What  an  infinity 
gpreater  blessing  is  the  Bible  !  The  compass  guides  the  waioM 
through  the  briny  ocean ;  the  Bible  is  the  spiritual  oompiii^ 
which  safely  guides  through  all  the  stormy  billows  of  human  Uik 
The  compass  points  to  the  polar  star :  this  spiritual  oompai^ 
points  to  Jesus,  the  Bright  and  Morning  Star.  This  ooBipaii 
points  to  heaven. 

A  Cordial.— Those  who  are  ready  to  fiunt,  need  a  oor^  to 
revive  their  sinking  spirits.  The  believer  is  in  himself  weak,  hat 
when  by  faith  he  drinks  the  cordial  of  the  Word  of  Ged,  hii 
soul  is  restored,  his  weak  graces  become  strong  and  adiva 
Then  he  sings,  "  I  will  go  forward  in  the  strength  of  ^ 
the  Lord,  making  mention  of  his  righteousness,  even  of  hii 
only.*'  Fsal.  Ixxi.  16.  And  it  is  this  cordial  which  makes  the 
soul  of  the  pious  child  triumphant  in  death,  and  nying,  ^M^ 
the  last  enemy  draws  near,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  atiagl 
0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ^  Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  «« 
the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.*'     1  Cor.  xv.  65^  57. 

A  Counsellor. — To  counsel,  is  to  give  good  adviee.  Ko 
counsellor  ever  gave  such  wise,  such  needful,  such  loving  eoaseK 
as  the  Word  of  God.  In  every  sense  of  the  word  it  is  a  «•• 
derful  Counsellor,  It  is  the  counsellor  of  kings,  and  noblflB,aBi 
judges,  and  philosophers,  and  ministers,  and  merchantBy  masttf* 
and  servants,  parents  and  children.  Oh,  may  every  yoothfsl 
reader  of  these  Vines  be  ei^aXA^^  \x^  \qq>Vl  upon  the  l^ble  and  fl^ 
with  the  heart,  PaaV.  ctlVtl.  "Ik,  "  ^Vj  Vs^knuins^  ^Sia  aie  ay 
delicrht  and  my  counaeWoTO."  ,  -.^.  _..^,.-i 

their  heads.    These  are  ioxiBfc^  ol  fL^VL,«Q^iB8!Kft^ 


REMARKABLE  INSTANCES  OF  CONVERSION.        187 

Do  crowns  give  dignity  to  kings  1  Oh,  see  what  dignity  and 
honour  the  Word  of  God  gives  to  those  who  know  it,  who 
belleye  it,  and  who  feel  its  power  I  What  is  the  sparkling  lustre 
of  the  jewels  of  a  crown,  compared  with  that  moral  hrightness 
and  spiritual  glory,  with  which  the  Bible  irradiates  those  holy 
children,  who  are  enlightened  by  its  wisdom,  and  purified  by  its 
influence  1 

Daihtt  Food.— It  is  said,  Gen.  xlix.  20,  "  Asher  shall  yield 
royal  dainties ;"  that  is,  delicious  food,  worthy  to  be  placed  on 
the  tables  of  kings.  And  what  does  the  Bible  do  1  It  presents 
spiritual  food,  prepared  in  heaven,  fit  fur  the  enjoyment  of 
angels.  Look  to  the  gospel  table,  and  to  the  gospel  feast. 
There  you  see  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  These  are  dainty 
food.  There  you  see  the  promises  of  eternal  truth ;  there  you 
see  Jesus,  and  all  the  blessings  of  salvation.  These  are  dainty 
food,  and  the  Holy  Bible  furnishes  them  all. 


TWO  KEMAEKABLE  INSTANCES  OF  CONVERSION. 

Thb  memory  of  the  Kev.  John  Koqers  is  still  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  the  pious  inhabitants  of  Dedham,  in  Essex,  though  he 
finished  his  life  and  labours  in  the  year  1636,  more  than  two 
centuries  ago.  He  was  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  England, 
remarkable  for  his  piety,  his  eloquence,  and  his  zeal.  He 
preached  in  that  parish  for  thirty-one  years.  Then  gospel 
ministers  in  the  Establishment  were  comparatively  few  in 
number;  he  was  therefore  held  in  great  estimation  by  the 
people  of  God  far  and  near.  For  thirty-one  years  his  church  was 
crowded  to  the  door,  not  only  on  Sabbaths,  but  during  his 
Tuesday  mornings'  lectures.  He  was  the  instrument  of  the  con- 
Tersion  of  multitudes. 

One  day,  on  the  other  side  of  a  hedge,  he  observed  two  men, 
and  heard  the  one  saying  to  the  other,  ^*  Let  us  go  next  Sabbath 
to  church,  and  make  fun  of  old  roaring  Rogers.**  He  was  not 
seen  by  them ;  but  he  was  enabled  so  minutely  to  observe  them, 
that  he  felt  sure  he  should  remember  them  if  he  saw  them  in 
church  next  Sabbath.  Before  reading  his  text,  he  looked  round, 
and  at  last  saw  these  two  hardened  sinners  standing  in  the 
porch.  No  doubt  he  had  prayed  fervently  in  his  closet  that  the 
truth  might  reach  their  conscience,  and  by  the  Spirit  save  their 
souls. 

He  gave  out  the  following  text,  Matt.  iii.  10:  "And  now 
the  axe  is  laid  to  the   root  of  the  tree."    Then  fixing  his 
eyes  on  the  two  men,  he  said,  "  I  am  determined  thai  ^^otci'^  qX. 
the  Mpa  shall  reach  the  church  porch."    The  men.  -weie  «,Vras^ 
with  astonishment      They  were   riveted   to  lYie  s^oX..      ^ora.- 
jriction  reached  their  he&rta.    They  became  eTXi\iieTk.\>  QiOT^«V»» 
AndUvedand  died  the  ornaments  of  that  gospel  ^\i\cVi^«A^BiaAa 


188  POETBY. 

the  power  of  God  for  their  salyation.  Of  such  hardened  lel 
God  raised  up  children  to  Abraham,  to  sing  their  Sa?io 
praise. 

This  interesting  circumstance  was  related  to  me  by  mj  frit 
the   Kev.  John  Trew,  pastor  of  the  Independent  Church 
Dedham.  A.  F. 


POETRY. 

"  ZION,  WHOM  NO  MAN  8EEKETH  AFTER." — JcT.  XXX.  17. 

"  Soattbr'd  by  God's  avenging  hand, 

Afflicted  and  forlorn. 
Sad  wanderers  from  their  pleasant  land, 

Do  Judah's  children  mourn ; 
And  e'en  in  Christian  countries,  few 
Breathe  thoughts  of  pity  towards  the  Jew, 

**  Yet  listen.  Christian,  do  you  love 

The  Bible's  precious  page  ? 
Then  let  your  hearts  with  kindness  move 

To  Israel's  heritage. 
Who  traced  those  lines  of  love  for  you? 
Each  sacred  writer  was  a  Jew. 

**  And  then,  as  years  and  ages  pass'd. 

And  nations  rose  and  fell, — 
Though  clouds  and  darkness  ofb  were  cast 

O'er  captive  Israel, — 
The  oracles  of  God,  for  you. 
Were  kept  in  safety  by  the  Jew. 

"  And  though  His  own  received  Him  not, 
And  tum'd  in  pride  away. 
Whence  is  the  Gentile's  happier  loti 

Are  you  more  just  than  they  ] 
No  !  Cfod  in  pity  tum'd  to  you, — 
Have  you  no  pity  for  the  Jew  1 

"  Go,  then,  and  bend  your  knee  to  pray 

For  Israel's  ancient  race ; 
Ask  the  Redeemer  every  day 

To  call  them  by  his  grace ; 
Go, — ^for  a  debt  of  love  is  due 
From  Christians  to  the  su£fering  Jew !  * 


B.    CtAT,  »aV»1tltB.,  »ll«.J^I»  Vt^ltWi  «VW 


^^  SCHOOi 


VOL.  n.  '^ 

REV.   ALEX.    FLETCHER,  D.D. 


LONDON:— 1B«. 
rra  HACL,  VJRTUB  ft  CO.  »,  TiTnasows-  ^^^'^  ■ 


"^      0'K*^' 


t? 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  II. 


PAOB 

Sacred  Zoology. — Antelope,  or  Gazelle  {with  cut) 1 

Sermon  I. — Murderr,  showing  the  Heart  to  be  desperately  wicked 2 

Ants  {with  cut)    8 

Murderers  mentioned  in  Scripture  10 

Obituary   11 

Beauty  of  Colours  12 

Young  People  sold  in  England  13 

Missionary  Communications  13 

Poetry:  Missionaries'  Farewell — ^The  Criminal 14 

Sacred  Zoology. — Camelo-pardus,  or  Giraffe  {with  cut)   17 

Sermon  II. — Cup  of  Salvation.    Parti.    (Psalm  cxvi.  13.)  19 

Names  of  Jesus  alphabetically  arranged,  beginning  with  B 26 

Practical  Wisdom  27 

Practical  Folly  28 

Wise  Sayings  28 

A  Boy  of  Ten  Years  of  Age  instructing  a  Man  of  Seventy 28 

Wesleyan  Missions :  Mission- house  at  Kawhia,  New  Zealand — Baptism 

of  a  Brahmin  29 

Children's  Hymn  31 

Rev.  J.  Berridge's  Epitaph 82 

Lines  on  the  Tombstone  of  Mrs.  Mary  Margaret  Randoll,  in  the  Cemetery 

of  Abney  Park,  who  died  September  3,  1848,  aged  72  years 32 

Sacred  Zoology.— The  Hind  {with  cut) 38 

Sermon  III. — Cup  of  Salvation.     Part  II.    (Psalm  cxvi.  13.)  35 

Lines  on  hearing  the  Sermon  on  the  Cup  of  Salvation 42 

Excellences  of  the  Bible,  alphabetically  arranged,  and  beginning  with 

the  letter  D 43 

Instincts  of  Animals,  displaying  God's  Wisdom,  Power,  and  GoodnteBS  ...  44 

Jonah  and  Jesus .' 45 

Missions:  Scottish  Calabar  Mission    46 

Poetry : — Lines  on  hearing  the  Passing-Bell  toll  for  an  Infant 48 

Sacred  Botany. — Wheat  {with  cut) 49 

Sermon  IV.—*'  God  is  love,"  (John  iv.  8.)  52 

Names  and  Titles  of  Jesus,  alphabetically  arranged 60 

Poetry. — The  Orphan's  Hymn  „..«..., 64 

Sacred  Botany. — The  Citron  {with  cut) C5 

Sermon  V.—"  God  is  love,"  (John  iv.  8.)  67 

Contentment 73 

Excellences  of  the  Bible,  alphabetically  arranged 74 

Martyrology 75 

Twelve  Maxims  for  the  Young 77 

The  Jews:  good  hopes  of  them  7& 

Poetry  : — Heaven  ^^ 

Scripture  Natural  History. — The  Elephant  {voith  cut^ ^^_ 

Sermon  VI.—"No  Night  in  Heaven."— (Hev.  xx\\.  b.'i  ^^ 

Names  and  Titles  of  Jesus,  alphabetically  arraivged. ^-^ 

Obituary  of  J.  J.  w.  Bacon,  a  Sabbath  School  TeacVvex  *;..    ^^ 

A.  Few  Maxima  for  the  Young    


IV  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Scripture  Natural  History.— The  Cedar  {with  cut)  97 

Sermon  VII.—"  It  is  well  with  the  Child."  (2  Kings  iv.  26.) 99 

Submission  to  the  Divine  Will  105 

Martyrology. — Scottish  Martyrs: — John  Brown 106 

Obituary  of  Master  Lydiard  M 108 

Poetry: — Advantages  of  Early  Piety 112 

Scripture  Natural  History.— The  Camel  {with  cut) 113 

Sermon  VIII.— '« It  is  well  with  the  Child."    (2  Kings  iv.  26.) 1 15 

Martyrology. — English  Martyrs: — Bishop  Hooper 121 

Thoughts  for  Sabbath  School  Children 123 

The  Blind  Man   124 

Anecdotes » 125 

A  Few  Maxims  for  the  Young  127 

Poetry :— The  Mother's  Address  to  her  Blind  Child 127 

Scripture  Natural  History.— The  Adder  {with  cut)  129 

Sermon  IX.—"  And  he  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers  of  water, 
that  briHgeth  forth  his  fruit  in  his  season ;  his  Iraf  also  shall  not 

wither,  and  whatsoever  he  doeth  shall  prosper/'    (Bs.  i.  3.) 131 

Excellences  of  the  Bible,  alphabetically  airanged .i 137 

Martyrology.— Scottish  Martyrs: — Hugh  McKail 139 

Aneodote  of  the  late  Queen  Adelaide  140 

The  White  Froek  and  the  Spot  of  Isk 141 

Poetry :— The  Blind  Child's  Reply  to  his  Mother's  Address  143 

Anecdotes: — Alexander  and  his  Mother 144 

Affection'a  Choice  Treasures 144 

Scripture  Natural  History. — Bees  {with  cut)  145 

Sermon  X. — Young  Saints  Trees  of  Righteousness.  "  Trees  of  righteous- 
ness, the  planting  of  the  Lord,  that  he  might  be  glorified."  (Isa.  Ixi.  3. )  147 

Martyrology. — Justin  Martyr.    Second  Century 153 

Names  of  Christ,  alphabeticaHy  mrranged,  begimiiiig  with  the  letter  C.  ...  154 
Island  of  lona,  in  a  letter  f^om  the  Editor  to  the  Church  and  Congregation 

of  Fin  sbury  Chapel,  London 156 

Plague  of  London.    A  Spiritual  Prescription 137 

Interesting  Anecdotes  158 

Extract  from  the  late  Queen  Adelaide's  Will 159 

Poetry : — A  little  Hymn  for  a  little  Boy.    By  the  Rev.  John  Sibree,  of 

CoYentry  ...,., 159 

Verses  on  seeing  the  Orave  of  a  Young  Lady 160 

Sacred  Botany.— The  Bay  Tree  {with  cut) 161 

Sermon  XI.—"  The  King  in  his  Beauty."  (Isa.  xxxiii.  17.) 163 

Choice  Sayings  : — 1.  Cottage,  a  Palace 16§ 

2.  Happiness 168 

».  Means  of  Comfort  to  the  Afflicted 168 

4.  Flower  irf  Youth,  when  loveliest 168 

John  Bunyanifl  Prison 169 

Poetry: — God  the  Comforter , 171 

Lines  by  Dryden 171 

Warning  to  the  Young  to  avoid  Fairs  ..,.,.. .^ ., 172 

Reviews: — Publications  of  the  Weekly  Tract  Society  , 175 

Scripture  Natural  History.    By  the  Rev.  J.  Young,  A.M... ,. 175 

Voices  from  the  Garden 176 

Scripture  Natural  History.— Birds'  Nests  {with  cut) , 177 

sermon  XII.— "  Christ  the  King  of  Glory.'*  (Ps.  xxiv.  10.)  179 

Blessedness  of  Departed  Infants.    By  the  Rev.  T.  Craig,  of  Booking, 

Essex '. 184 

RenMirkaUe  Conversion  of  a  Wicked  Discontented  Boy.    The  Storm 186 

Reviews: — I.  Important  Truths  in  Simple  Verse  187 

JJ.  Rhymes  worth  Remembering 18]| 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

ANTELOPE,     OR    QAZELLE. 

The  Antelope,  or  Gazelle,  is  the  most  lovely  of  the 
er  tribe.  The  Hebrew  name  is  >as,  tzebi,  which 
rnifies  to  collect.  Gazelles  live  together  in  troops, 
e  nnmberB  sometimes  amounting  to  thousands.  These 
•atures  are  universally  admired  for  their  heauty. 
ley  are  lively  and  brilliant.  Their  eyes  are  so  bright, 
t  at  the  same  time  presenting  such  an  expression  of 
Flness,  gentleness,  and  meekness,  that  eastern  poets 
mpare  the  eyes  of  the  most  beautiful  of  women  to 
ose  of  the  gozelle.  The  writers  of  ttifi,  ?ift\i\Mi»%M*. 
inslatioa  of  the  Old  I'estament  transVatft  ttvft 'S.doTfw 
le  TZEBI  by  Sopxae,  Dobcas,  ■wbic\»  aigm&eft  "beauty. 
iel,  ia  bis  Jamentation   over   Sau\   atv4  Soft^.'Cwi.ti. 


2  SEBMON. 

(2  Sam.  i.  19),  compares  them  to  the  gazelle.  He 
says,  "  The  beauty  of  Israel  is  slain  upon  thy  high 
places."  In  the  original  Hebrew  it  is  "  the  tz^i  of 
Israel."  In  the  Septuagint  Greek  translation  it  is 
"  the  dorcas  of  Israel."  And  in  our  language  the 
words  may  be  rendered,  in  reference  to  the  loveliest 
of  quadrupeds,  as  a  figure,  **  The  gazelle  of  Israel  is 
slain  upon  thy  high  places." 

There  are  two  kinds  of  gazelles,  or  antelopes—- the 
gazelle  of  the  mountain,  and  that  of  the  plain.  The 
former  is  the  most  beautiful,  and  it  bounds  with  such 
astonishing  swiftness,  that  it  seems  as  if  possessed  of 
the  power  of  fiying*  Some  of  David's  heroes  are  thus 
described,  1  Chron.  xii.  8  :  "  Whose  faces  were  like 
the  faces  of  lions,  and  were  as  swift  as  roes,''  or 
gazelles. 


SERMON  L 

MURDERS,    SHOWING   THE   HEART   TO  BE  DESPERATELY 

WICKED. 

"  The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked !" 

Jer.  xvii.  9. 

Dear  young  friends,  what  is  the  greatest  crime  Aat 
man  can  commit  against  man  ?  It  is  the  crime  of 
murder.  Many  murders  have  been  lately  committed 
in  England.  This  country  is  called  a  ChrM» 
country  ;  but,  alas  !  many  of  the  foulest  murders 
have  lately  stained  England's  fair  fame  and  lofty 
name.  Nothing  has  exceeded  them,  even  in  Ireland, 
or  in  the  land  of  barbarians  and  cannibals.  Oh  !  it  is 
painful  to  preach  or  write  on  such  a  subject.  I  have 
done  the  first,*  «Liid  1  "now  ijroceed  to  do  the  second. 

*  On  the  evening  oi  ^a\>\>2A\i,  k^fv\\t>'Ci^\^V\  ^Sg«;^^ 
the  subject  of  the  BtA«ifteUU^\\mxvT^^^,  \a  ^^«^  «^^»«^ 
tire  assembly,  in  ;FinaV>ur^  CV^^^v.— K.  ^  ^ 


SEBMON.  O 

do  not  know  the  temptations  which  await  you. 
3  of  you  may  be  tempted  to  commit  the  sin  of 
ler !  If  this  sermon  shall  be  the  means  of  pre- 
ing  you  from  committing  a  crime  so  great  and  so 
iful,  1  shall  be  well  rewarded,  however  painful  the 
mt  exercise  may  be  to  the  feelings  of  my  heart, 
hat  does  our  text  say  ?  It  tells  us  that  the  heart 
\sperately  roieked.  Murder,  more  than  any  other 
e,  shows  that  the  heart  is  desperately  wicked. 
heart  is  very  generally  taken  in  Scripture  to  sig- 
the  souL  As  the  heart  placed  in  our  body  is  the 
3ipal  and  most  important  part  of  our  body,  the 

by  a  figure,  is  very  often  called  by  that  name, 
it  are  the  actions  of  a  child  ?  They  are  issues,  or 
ims,  which  flow  from  the  heart.  Pro  v.  iv.  23  : 
jep  thine  heart  with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are 
ssues  of  life.'*  We  know  the  nature  of  the  tree  by 
ruit.  We  know  the  nature  of  a  fountain  by  its 
ims.  And  we  know  the  heart,  even  of  a  child,  by 
ivords  he  speaks,  and  by  the  actions  he  performs, 
is  words  are  profane,  his  heart  is  profane.  If  his 
>ns  are  cruel,  his  heart  is  cruel.  Dear  children, 
rve  what  Jesus  says  about  the  heart.  Matt.  xv.  19 : 
}r  out  of  the  heart  proceed  evil  thoughts,  mur- 
,  adulteries,  fornications,  false  witness,  blasphemy." 
these  appeared  in  the  convicted  murderer,  who, 
tanfield  Hall,  deprived  a  father  and  a  son  of  life, 
wounded  and  endangered  the  life  of  two  helpless 
lies  !  When  we  think  of  this  dreadful  deed,  we 
compelled  to  say  that  "the  heart  is  desperately 
ced." 

«t  us  now  turn  for  a  little  to  the  murder  of  Calvary, 
re,  and  on  a  cross,  Jesus,  the  incarnate  Jehovah, 

murdered ;  by  wicked  hands  he  was  crucified  and 
1.     Among   all  murders   thu  standi  V9\\AiQv>X>  %:cv 
al.     And  it  shall  continue  without  wv  ^o^^  ^i^ 
shall  be  no  more.    A  voice  is  lieaxd  irova  C«Xn^v^  • 
what  18  it  ?    ''  The  heart  ia  AecevV^viV  ^XiO^e;  ^ 
^  and  desperately  wicked  1" 


SEBMON. 


THE  SIN  OP  MURDER. 


May  the  following  remarks  on  the  sin  of  murder  be 
accompanied  with  the  Divine  blessing  I 

1st.  To  murder  is  to  usurp  God's  prerogative.  What 
is  a  prerogative  7  It  is  something  belonging  to  one  by 
right.  And  if  any  one  dares  to  take  it  from  him,  he  is 
guilty  of  an  act  of  sin  and  injustice.  Strictly  speak- 
ing, no  one  can  take  from  God  his  prerogative.  But 
the  murderer  attempts  it.  God  gave  life,  and  he  only 
has  the  right  to  take  life  away.  What  does  the  mur- 
derer do  ?  He  atteippts  to  take  God's  right  out  of  his 
hand.  The  murderer's  heart  leads  him  to  this  dreadful 
act.     Then  his  "  heart  is  desperately  wicked.** 

2d.  To  murder,  is  to  lay  waste  and  desolate  one  d 
the  noblest  works  of  God.  A  living  body,  containing 
a  living  soul,  is  a  more  wonderful  work  than  the  temple 
of  Solomon  in  all  its  glory.  What,  then,  is  a  palace 
or  a  temple  laid  in  ruins,  compared  with  the  human 
body  laid  in  ruins,  and  levelled  with  the  dust  by  a 
murderer's  hand  ?  Surely  "  the  heart  is  desperately 
wicked." 

dd.  To  murder,  is  to  commit  the  most  atrocious 
robbery.  All  that  a  man  possesses  is  Qothing  com- 
pared "with  his  life.  Job  ii.  4  :  "  Skin  for  skin,  all 
that  a  man  hath,  will  he  give  for  his  life."  Gk)ld, 
silver,  jewels,  houses,  and  lands,  he  will  part  with  in  a 
moment  if  his  life  be  spared.  A  murderer,  therefore, 
deprives  another  of  his  greatest,  richest,  apd  most 
valuable  inheritance.  The  heart  which  prompts  to 
such  a  robbery  as  this  "  is  desperately  wicked.* 

4th.  To  murder,  is  to  inflict  an  injury  which  never 
can  be  repaired.     It  is  to  inflict  a  wound  which  never 
can  be  healed.     It  is  doing  what  never  can  be  undone. 
It  is  laying  a  house  in  ruins  which  never  can  be  re- 
stored or  rebuilt.    How  nv^iv^  ^\^  \yj  ^  murderer's 
liand  who  are  not  prei^arfe^^o  ^^^^^    QVWw  S.^^^^ 
the  thoueht,  to  send  a  bo\x\  Vtv\^  ^\.«\i\V^  >k^^t^^«^^^ 
What  is  it  ?     I  must  waN^«£  \V«^  ^w^Xwsm  ^^^«fr.vN 


SERMON.  5 

IS  most  painful  and  distressing  to  the  heart.  It  is 
forcibly,  unjustly,  and  cruelly  to  send  a  soul  to  bell ! 
It  is  to  send  it  to  misery,  from  which  it  never  can  be 
relieved.  It  is  to  send  it  into  a  prison,  from  which  it 
never  can  escape.  Murder,  then,  is  an  irreparable 
evil ;  and  the  heart  of  the  murderer  "  is  desperately 
wicked." 

THE  MURDERER. 

We  have  considered  the  sin  of  murder  ;  let  us  now 
look  at  the  murderer.     Let  us  see  what  he  is. 

1st.  He  is  under  the  power  of  the  vilest  passions. 
Look  into  his  heart,  and  what  do  you  see  ?  You  see 
such  vile  passions  as  covetousness,  envy,  revenge, 
enmity,  and  selfishness.  One,  or  all  of  these,  made  him 
a  murderer.  His  heart  is  a  "  burning  volcano,  a  little 
hell  I " 

2d.  The  murderer  is  a  most  selfish  being.  To 
please  self  he  robs  one  of  his  most  valuable  inhentance; 
he  despises  the  laws  of  men,  he  scorns  the  threatened 
judgments  of  heaven,  he  drives  a  soul  into  eternity, 
and  plunges  whole  families  into  the  depths  of  unutter- 
able woe. 

3d.  A  murderer  is  the  most  dangerous  of  beings. 
He  is  more  dangerous  than  the  crocodile,  the  rattle- 
snake, or  the  devouring  tiger  which  has  escaped  from 
his  cage. 

4th.  A  murderer  is  peculiarly  a  child  of  Satan. 
Most  striking  is  the  resemblance.  Satan  is  "  a  mur- 
derer, and  was  so  from  the  beginning,"  John  viii.  44. 
He  is  the  most  malicious  of  beings,  and  it  is  malice 
which  makes  the  murderer. 

5th.  A  murderer  is  the  most  degraded  of  beings. 
He  is  in  the  lowest  scale  of  the  most  degraded  of 
creatures.  Why  ?  Because  he  is  under  the  worst  pas- 
sions, and  has  been  guilty  of  the  greatest  crime. 

6th.  He  is  therefore  the  most  abkorrcd  ol  Xi^vsv^* 
He  IS  abhorred  as  a  common  enemy,  as  at  tsyotl^x^'c  \ol 
humaa  shape,  and  as  fixing    on    \i\\m«iti  t\^1wc^  '^'^ 


()  SEIUION, 

foulest  blot.     He  is  more  abhorred  than  the  wolf  or 
the  hyena  thirsting  for  blood. 

7th,  He  especially  exposes  himself  to  Divine  wrath. 
He  deserves  to  die,  he  deserves  God's  wrath,  he  de- 
serves hell !  He  is  preparing  for  hell,  Rev.  xxi.  8  : 
*'  Murderers  shall  have  their  portion  in  the  lake  of  fire 
and  brimstone." 

8th.  God  can  save  a  murderer's  soul.  He  can  give 
him  repentance.  He  can  change  the  monster's  heart. 
He  can  forgive  the  penitent  murderer's  sin.  He  con- 
verted, he  forgave,  the  murderer  Manasseh.  2  Chron, 
xxxiii.  18,  19. 

STANFIELD   HALL   MURDEBS. 

There  was  a  heart-rending  tragedy  of  blood,  lite- 
rally and  lately  acted  at  Stanfield  Hall,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  city  of  Norwich,  by  James  Blomfield 
Rush,  who  was  a  farmer  in  Potash,  close  to  the  dwell- 
ing of  the  murdered  victims.  This  appalling  tragedy 
furnishes  a  most  melancholy  illustration  of  what  we 
have  said  of  murder  and  of  the  murderer. 

1  St.  The  passions  of  envy,  malice  and  revenge  were, 
long  indulged  in  the  murderer's  bosom,  which  at  last 
burst  forth  like  a  torrent  of  burning  lava  from  a  vol- 
cano* 

2d.  The  indulgence  of  these  passions  led  to  tiiQ 
contrivance  of  a  most  extraordinary  plan  of  death. 
Satan  sat  at  the  right  hand  of  the  plotting  murderer. 

3d.  There  was  cool  preparation  for  the  deed — ^the 
preparation  of  his  own  mind ;  providing  fire-arms  and 
practising  their  use ;  also  the  preparing  a  disguise  to 
conceal  his  person,  and  the  laying  of  straw  on  a  path- 
way to  prevent  the  marks  of  his  footsteps. 

4th.  Some  tears  were  seen  falling  down  his  cheeks 

before  he  left  iiis  home  to  commit  the  deed.     Then  he 

resumed  his  firmness  oIl  i^vxt^o«»>ft,  «Lud  said,  "  Like  the 

spider  Robert  the  "Bruc^i  ^avi^  yiV\Os\^  ^xv^^^^jAj^  S.vm 

the  ceiling,  six  times  aU^m^x.^^  \.q  %^vq.  ^  \«»5si^  ia^. 


S^BMOK.  7 

gained  it  the  seventh,  I  have  attempted  six  times,  but 
will  succeed  the  seventh." 

5th.  Now  see  him  leaving  his  home,  and  under  the 
covert  of  night  walking  through  his  fields,  armed,  and 
Satan  by  his  side,  proceeding  to  the  scene  of  blood. 

6th.  Oh !  think  of  the  family  of  Jermys,  enjoying  in 
imaginary  security  all  the  comforts  of  domestic  life, 
and  two  of  them  within  a  few  minutes  of  the  eternal 
world. 

7th.  The  father  leaves  the  dining-room,  and  is  in- 
stantly shot  through  the  heart ;  the  son  hears  the 
report  of  the  pistol,  follows  his  father,  and  is  in  a 
moment  shot  dead  ;  Mrs.  Jermy,  the  wife  of  the  son, 
she  also  proceeds  to  the  scene  of  murder,  and  the 
assassin,  aiming  at  her  life,  greatly  wounds  her ;  a 
faithful  servant  fees  to  her  help,  and  she  also  is 
wounded  by  the  assassin's  hand.  Sad — ^sad  catastrophe 
of  blood,  and  wounds,  and  death ! 

8th.  The  murderer  returns  to  his  abode  under  the 
frowns  of  heaven.  On  his  return,  he  says  to  a  young 
woman  with  whom  he  sinfully  and  unlawfully  lived, 
"  If  any  one  asks  how  long  I  have  been  out,  say  I  have 
been  only  out  ten  minutes."  Early  in  the  morning  he 
rose,  went  into  her  bed-room :  trembling  with  horror, 
he  said  a  second  time,  "  Be  firm ;  if  any  one  asks,  say 
I  have  only  been  out  ten  minutes." 

9th.  J.  £.  Bush  was  universally  suspected.  The 
officers  of  justice  entered  his  dwelling  early  on  the 
following  day,  made  him  prisoner,  and  bound  with 
handcuffs  of  iron  those  hands  which  sent  two  human 
beings  a  few  hours  before  into  eternity,  and  which 
attempted  the  life  of  a  third  and  a  fourth.  They  took 
him  from  that  home  to  which  he  should  never  return. 

10th.  The  tnal  is  over  ;  the  verdict  of  guilty  is 
given  ;  the  sentence  is  pronounced.  It  is  now  executed. 
The  murderer  has  been  brought  from  his  cell,  has  suf- 
fered  the  penalty  of  the  law,  and  has  a^^e«c^^\i^^<5rcfe 
the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth.  How  Ixue,  ^^  \}lafc\ift«x\. 
19  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  despex^iXA^  Vv^^V* 


8  ANTS. 


CONCLUSION. 

1st.  Beloved  children,  seek  grace  to  lay  restrunts 
on  every  sinful  passion.  If  J.  B.  Bush,  who  was  cmce 
a  child  like  you,  had  restrained  his  passions,  what  guilt 
he  would  have  escaped,  and  what  misery  prevented ! 

2d.  Beware  of  stirring  up  the  sinful  passions  of 
others.  It  is  said,  but  I  hope  it  is  not  true,  that  the 
elder  Mr.  Jermy  had  been  severe  to  Rush.  If  so,  how 
frightful  the  consequences  !  There  is  a  wise  and 
striking  advice  in  the  Apocrypha,  Ecclos.  Tiii.  10: 
*'  Kindle  not  the  coals  of  a  sinner,  lest  thou  be  burnt 
with  the  flame  of  his  fire." 

3d.  Beware  of  three  murderers  who  aire  abroad  in 
the  earth,  murdering  souls.  Their  names  wn^  ili6  dtfrii, 
the  world,  and  the  flesh.  From  these  moxdte^aib  my 
Jesus  mercifully  preserve  you. 

Lastly.  Oh  !  receive  Christ,  and  submit. to  hbgiaee, 
his  government,  and  laws.  Commit. yowr  sDtilt  to  hiB 
care,  and  embrace  him  as  your  Saviour,  Maj  the 
Holy  Spirit  enable  you  to  receive  Jesua  as  ^fomrtf  and 
to  surrender  yourselves  to  him  as  kM,  Then  ha  will 
subdue  all  your  sinful  passions,  renew  your  hearti,  for- 
give your  sins,  and  at  last  he  will  make  you  the 
possessors  of  heaven.     Amen. 


ANTS. 

The  Hebrew  name  of  ants  is  Terj  descriptive  of 
their  nature,  character,  and  habits.  It  is  H^Q^i 
nemala.  The  word  nemala  signifies  a  cropper^  or  one 
that  cuts  off.  Ants  collect  corn  in  harvest  for  their 
support  in  winter.  They  lay  it  up  underground  in 
stores.  They  are  guided  by  a  remarkable  instinct  to 
crop  off^  the  germs  from  the  seeds  of  com,  to  prevent 
tbeir  growth .  Without  \\ua  ^i^covs^vya.,  ^^  Vd^oas^ar^  ^ 
tie  ants  would  be  in  ^«m,  wi^  «Si  xJftKa  ^a5Qwa^Rtt.\ 


the  seeds  of  com  wonid  regetate  and  grow  and  the 
hoarded  treasores  would  become  useless  Come,  my 
young  friends  and  adm  re  the  v,  sdoro  goodness,  and 
condescens  on  of  God  n  the  lesson  he  teaches  the 
industnous  aots  Tl  s  s  one  of  the  inDumernble 
instance?  of  God  s  v,  sdom  and  goodness  as  d  splayed 
by  tl  o  e  I  ar\ellous  inst  nets  with    vhich  all  tnhes  of 


irrational  crentures  are  endowed,  and  wilhoat  which 
their  existence  would  most  speedily  come  to  a  close. 

Ants  live  together  in  companies,  like  bees,  and  they 
maintain  a  kind  of  republic,  most  perfect  in  its 
arrangement,  and  the  administration  so  well  regulated 
as  to  require  no  reform.  We  cannot  b&y  **^  "(ivvaiwEi 
governments  what  can  be  Ba\4  ot  fti«  ^d-a^wiwift'cR' 
Biaiotained  and  enjoyed  by  ttieee  li\mftA*TO*«***- 


"V». 


10  MUBDEREBS  MENTIONED  IK   SCBIPTUBB. 

Scripture  ants  are  presented  as  instructors.  Prov. 
vi.  6  :  "Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard  ;  consider  her 
ways,  and  be  wise."  Ver.  8  :  **  Which  provideth  her 
meat  in  the  summer,  and  gathereth  her  food  in  the 
harvest."  • 


MURDERERS  MENTIONED  IN  SCRIPTFRE. 

Cain. — His  victim  was  his  brother  AheL  Gen.  iv.  8 : 
"  And  it  came  to  pass  when  they  were  in  the  field, 
that  Cain  rose  up  against  Abel  his  brother,  and  slew 
him." 

Abimelegh. — His  victims  were  his  own  brothers. 
Judg.  ix.  5  :  ^^  And  he  went  unto  his  father's  honse, 
and  slew  his  brethren,  being  three  score  and  ten  per- 
sons, on  one  stone," 

DoEG  AND  Saul. — The  priests  of  God  weretlieir 
victims.  1  Sam.  xxii  18  :  "And  Doeg  turned,  and  he 
fell  upon  the  priests,  and  slew  on  that  day  fourscore 
and  five  persons  that  did  wear  a  linen  ephod." 

David. — His  victim  was  Uriah.  2  Sam.  xi,  15 :  "Srt 
ye  Uriah  in  the  forefront  of  the  hottest  battle^  and 
retire  ye  from  him,  that  he  be  smitten  and  die,** 

Absalom.  —  His  victim  was  Amnon  his  brother. 
2  Sam.  xiii.  28 :  "  When  I  say  unto  you,  smite  Amnon, 
then  kill  him,  fear  not :  have  not  I  commanded  you  ?** 

Athalla^h. — Her  victims  were  all  the  seed  royal 
2  Kings  xi.  1 :  "  And  when  Athaliah  saw  that  her  son 
was  dead,  she  arose,  and  destroyed  all  the  seed  royaL" 

Jezebel. — Her  victims  were  the  priests  and  NabM* 
1  Kings  xviii.  13  :  "Was  it  not  told  my  Lord  what  I 
did  when  Jezabel  slew  the  prophets  of  tke  Lord  ?** 
1  Kings  xxi.  10 — 15. 

Herod. — His  victims  were  the  balfes  of  Bethlehem, 
Mutt.  ii.  16  :  "  Then  H^to^  ^\<e.>N  «il  the  children  that 
were  in  Bethlehem,  ^rom  Vno  ^^«t%  ^^vxAxoiJ^r 
Je^VS.— Their  V\cl\in\j«ia;S^«^^.  ka\A\u'I^\^^«ss^. 


X)BITUABT.  11 

ive  taken,  and  bj  wicked  hands  have  crucified  and 
)w  true  !  "  The  heart  is  desperately  wicked/' 


OBITUARY. 

)HN    PRESTON   FLEMING,   STUDENT  IN  HIGHBUBT  COLLEGE,  AND 
HEMBEB  OF  THE   OHUBCH   IN   FINSBURY   CHAPEL. 

Written  by  the  Rev.  Mr»  Goodwin,  TvJtor, 

.  Fleming's  state  of  health  had  heen  for  some  time  such  a9 
asion  anxiety  to  his  friends,  though  they  cherished  the  hope 
I  recovery  and  future  usefulness  in  the  Church  of  Christ, 
nflammation  of  the  lungs,  which  terminated  in  his  death, 
)nly  evident  for  about  two  days.  When,  on  Saturday 
ing,  the  distressing  symptoms  of  his  disorder  became  mani- 
le  intimat-ed  his  own  conviction  of  what  might  be  the  end, 
mquilly  giving  some  directions,  which  he  wished  should  be 
led  to  if  he  should  soon  be  removed.  Medical  attendance 
romptly  secured  for  him,  and  for  a  while  some  hope  was 
4iined  that  his  life  might  be  spared.  The  disease,  however, 
lued  to  advance,  attended  with  much  pain,  increasing 
less,  and  difficulty  in  breathing. 

lile  desiring  life  for  the  prospect  of  serving  Christ  in  the 
try  of  the  Gospel,  he  showed  no  apprehension  of  death,  but 
Bsed  frequently  his  entire  resignation  to  the  will  of  God. 
severe  nature  of  the  attack  rendered  it  impossible  for  him 
iak  much ;  but  his  kind  disposition  towards  others,  his  sub- 
on  to  the  will  of  his  heavenly  Father,  and  his  simple  con- 
»  in  the  mercy  of  his  Saviour,  were  ever  manifest.  While 
was  still  a  little  hope  of  his  restoration,  he  said  with  much 
stness,  "  What  an  awfiil  thing  is  affliction,  if  it  be  not  im- 
d  !  but  what  a  blessed  thing  if  sanctified  for  our  improve- 
t" 

• 

listened  with  great  interest  to  the  portions  of  Scripture 
he  hymns  which  were  read  or  repeated  to  him,  and  joined 
e  prayers  Which  were  offered  at  his  bed-side,  retaining  his 
Lousness  almost  to  the  end.  When  informed  that  his 
*al  attendant  considered  his  life  near  to  its  close  on  earth, 
id  not  appear  surprised.  On  two  or  three  occasions  he  had 
)  said,  "It  is  a  solemn  thing  to  die;"  and  when  it  was 
red  that  "  to  the  Christian  the  terrors  of  death  were  taken 
"  he  replied,  **  It  is  so."  He  desired  that  his  friends  should 
d  'Hhat  he  felt  that  his  guilt  as  a  sinner  would  deycyi^bioi. 
if  eveijhope  but  for  the  gospel  of  Christ  *,  sjxidi  \\3A.\»>i)Qj&'^«Ai^ 
►f  which  he  had  sought  and  found  in  C\ma\.  xeiaaMiSi^^^'^^ 
As  his  strength  failed,  he  found  much.  A^exjXX.^  vo.  «^«»ifc- 


12  BEAUTY  OP  COLOURS. 

ing  at  all ;  but  two  or  three  times,  he,  by  a  great  eflfbrt 
himself  in  the  bed,  addressed  those  who  stood  around  hii 
said  with  deep  feeling,  "  Oh,  when  I  look  back  on  the 
my  past  life  ! "  then,  with  peculiar  solemnity  and'eamest 
slowly  repeated  the  words,  '*  All  things  work  together  fi 
to  those  who  love  God."    After  a  little  pause  he  addec 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son,  cleanseth  from  all  sin. 
broken  all  the  laws  of  God,  but  I  have  one  thing  to  1< 
Then  he  again  repeated,  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cl 
us  from  all  sin  ;*'  and  turning  to  those  who  were  at  his 
exclaimed  with  all  the  energy  of  which  he  was  capable, 
that  a  joyous  truth  V*    He  said  two  or  three  times,  *' 
the  Lord  will  spare  me  through  this  night."     When 
remarked  to  him  that  it  might  not  be  so,  he  replied,  ** 
shall  go  to  sleep/'    Thus  he  finished  his  course.     He  fel 
in  Jesus,  and  before  his  Sabbath-day  on  earth  had  rea^ 
close,  he  entered  on  the  Sabbath  of  heaven.    He  was  1 
son  of  a  pious  widowed  mother. 

Copied  by  me,  Alexai^deb  Fletcher, 

April  6th, 


BEAUTY  OF  COLOURS. 

The  light  of  the  sun  contains  every  colour.  The  c 
colours  which  we  see  and  admire  are  the  reflection  of  t 
of  the  sun,  which  contain  them  all.  It  is  by  &  prism,  tl 
lengthened  piece  of  triangular  crystal,  the  rays  of  li 
divided,  and  by  which  we  see  these  rays  shining  befoi 
colours  of  glowing  beauty  and  dazzling  splendour. 

The  following  account  is  an  extract  from  the  Hanm. 
Nature : — 

"  Nothing  in  nature  is  more  beautiful  than  her  colonrs 
flower  is  compounded  of  difibrent  shades ;  almost  every  m 
is  clothed  with  herbs  different  from  the  one  opposed  to 
every  field  has  its  peculiar  hue.  Colour  is  to  scenery,  wfa 
blature  is  to  architecture,  and  harmony  to  language, 
are,  indeed,  so  fascinating,  that  in  the  East  there  has  Ic 
Tidied  a  method  of  signifying  the  passions,  which  is  cal 
love  language  of  colours.  This  rhetoric  was  introdno 
Spain  by  the  Arabians.  Tellow  expressed  doubt;  bla 
row;  green,  hope;  purple,  constancy;  blue,  jealousy; 
content ;  and  red,  the  greatest  possible  satisikction.  In 
to  mourning,  it  may  not  be  irrelevant  to  remark,  that 
most  Europeans  moxmi  m  \>l&ck,  the  ancient  Spartanai,  S 
and  Chinese,  monined  m  'v\i\VA\  >iJtkft^^gy^'CYKo&,\T^.  ^4l<j 
Ethiopians  in  brown-,  t\i«i  '^wtYa,  Va.  n\q\^\.\  ^^SSsi^ 
Cardinals  iiidicat©  tl^cVt  gAe«  m^xw^Nftr 


MI96IOKABT  COMMUNICATIONS.  18 

It  is  imposBible  to  look  npon  the  rainbow  without  being 
iBtoniBhed  at  the  glorious  colours  which  that  mysterious  arch 
displays.  When  the  belieyer  beholds  it,  he  sees  a  beauty  which 
fte  nnconverted  philosopher  can  never  discern.  He  sees  the 
kken  from  God  of  his  covenant  with  man,  that  there  shall  never 
more  be  a  flood  to  destroy  all  flesh  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
0^1.  ix.  16  :  "  And  the  bow  shall  be  in  the  cloud,  and  I  will  look 
upon  it,  that  I  may  remember  the  everlasting  covenant  between 
God  and  every  living  creature  of  all  flesh  that  is  upon  the 
earth." 

CoLOiTR  is  even  figuratively  employed  to  set  forth  the  loveli- 
ness of  Christ.  Hence  the  Church  says,  speaking  of  Christ's 
excellence,  in  Song  v.  10, 16,  "  My  Beloved  is  white  and  ruddy, 
the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand.    He  is  altogether  lovely." 


YOUNG  PEOPLE  SOLD  IN  ENGLAND. 

In  the  Life  of  Wulfstan,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  who  died  in  the 
year  1095,  it  is  stated  that  in  a  town  called  Brickston  (now  called 
Bristol)  there  was  a  mart  for  slaves,  who  were  collected  from  all 
parts  of  England,  and  particularly  young  women ;  that  it  was  a 
most  moving  sight  to  see  in  the  public  markets  rows  of  young 
people  of  both  sexes,  of  great  beauty,  and  in  the  flower  of  thek 
youth,  tied  together  with  ropes,  and  sold ;  men,  unmindful  of 
their  obligations,  delivering  into  slavery  their  relations,  and  even 
their  own  children.  Wulfstan  by  his  exertions  put  an  end  to  this 
barbarous  custom.  What  cause  of  thankfulness  have  our  young 
readers  for  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  which  has  shined  upon  our 
land,  and  put  an  end  to  all  danger  of  their  being  sold  into 
bondage  I 


MISSIONARY  COMMUNICATIONS. 

Young  friends,  it  is  my  intention  to  give  regularly,  in  each 
succeeding  number  of  this  work,  written  expressly  for  your 
benefit,  some  Missionary  communications.  These  will  be 
gathered  from  the  accounts  given  by  the  diflerent  Missionary 
{Societies  in  our  land,  without  any  respect  to  party  or  de- 
nomination. 

BAPTIST   MISSIONARY  SOCIETY. 

This  Society  has  been  of  long  standing.    3e«vx^  V-aa  ^«^1 
blessed  it.    Many  of  dta  Missionaries  have  txaii&Va.Xjfc^VJtifc^^'^ 
f  God  Into  vaiioua  languages,  particulaxly  in  la<^iM»,  \2q».\»  '^^aSw 
glon  teeming  with  idolatrous  inhabitanta. 


14  MISStOKABIES*  ^AREWEtt. 


OONYEBSIONS   IK  TKDlX, 

AoRA.— One  European  female  was  baptized  by  Mr.  WilUamg, 
December  last.  In  a  country  far,  far  from  her  native  homei  she 
was  bom  again. 

Chitauba,  near  Agra.— Two  Hindoos  were  baptized  by  Mr. 
Smith,  10th  of  December  last 

Narsiqderchok,  near  Calcutta. — Three  native  converts  were 
baptized  by  Mr.  Lewis  on  the  24th  of  December  last,  after  a  pro- 
fession of  their  faith  in  Christ. 

Jessonk. — Mr.  Parry,  under  date  of  the  Slst  December  last, 
says,  **  You  will  rejoice  with  us  that  last  Sabbath  fourteen  con- 
verts were  baptized  in  two  villages,  and  on  the  following  day 
three  more  made  a  public-  profession  of  their  faith  in  Christ 
Most  of  these  converts  have  been  hearing  the  Gospel  for  years ; 
others  for  some  months ;  and  have  been  for  a  long  time  under 
serious  impressions." 

CONVERSION   OF   KOTHAH-BTIT. 

There  has  been  established  a  Mission  in  Karen,  in  the  Bar- 
man empire,  lying  between  India  and  China.  Eothah-byu  had 
been  a  slave,  a  robber,  and  a  murderer.  In  his  unconverted 
pagan  state  he  had  killed  altogether  thirty  men  at  different  times 
in  his  life.  The  sermons  of  Mr.  Judson  were  the  means  of  his 
conversion.  He  became  most  active  and  useful  in  the  cause  of 
Christ.  Many  hundreds  of  blinded  heathen  were  converted  by 
means  of  his  preaching,  and  saved  from  Satan,  the  murderer  of 
souls.  A  few  years  ago  he  died  in  Jesus,  and  has  now  received 
his  celestial  crown.    2  Tim.  iv.  8. 


MISSIONARIES'  FAREWELL. 

BT  W.  L.  JUDD,   WHEN  LEAVING  AMERICA   FOR  HAITI. 

Air — "  Long  ago" 

Webp  not  for  na  'wVieTL  -joxji^aiWR  ^^j^  ^xfc  %<s^<^ 

Far,  fat  awa^— ^a.^,^*-^  «^^1- 
Pray  for  ub  lYiexe  ^\i\\e  ^e  VCwsv«  ^«wi. 

Far,  far  a>v«3— ^^^ .  ^««  '^'^^^ 


MISSIONA&IES'  ]E*AR£WELL.  15 

While  to  the  heathen  who  *re  sinking  to  woe 
We'  re  leaving  country  and  kindred  to  go. 
Let  UB  your  friendship  and  kindness  still  know, 
Far,  far  away— far,  far  away. 

There  shall  we  witness  the  shame  of  our  race, 

Far,  far  away — far,  far  away. 
There  shall  we  offer  salvation  by  grace, 

Far,  far  away— far,  far  away. 
There  will  the  Spirit,  the  heavenly  Dove, 
Open  hard  hearts  to  the  message  of  love, 
Mercy  in  showers  descend  from  above. 

Far,  far  away — far,  fjir  away. 

Hinder  us  not  from  the  field  of  our  choice. 

Far,  far  away — far,  far  away. 
Glad  would  we  teach  them  in  Chrigt  to  regoice. 

Far,  far  away — far,  far  away. 
Cheerfully  send  us  with  music  and  song. 
Pray  that  the  ocean  may  bear  us  along, 
Jesus  shall  share  a  rich  spoil  with  the  strong. 

Far,  far  away — far,  far  away. 

Why  should  you  weep  while  the  Saviour  says,  Go 

Far,  far  away — far,  fer  away  1 
His  presence  and  grace  all  his  servants  shall  know. 

Far,  far  away — ^far,  far  away. 
Send  us  with  alms,  and  forget  not  to  pray ; 
Share  in  our  labours  and  toils  by  the  way ; 
Hasten  us  forward,  they  *re  dying  to-day 

Far,  far  away — far,  far  away  t 


16  THB  CBIHIKAL. 


THE  CRIMIJSTAL. 

'Tis  silence  in  that  cell,  and  dim  the  light 

Gleaming  from  the  sunk  lamp.    There  is  one  stands 

Petter'd,  and  motionless,  so  very  pale, 

That  were  he  laid  within  his  winding-sheet. 

And  death  were  on  him,  yet  his  cheek  could  not 

Wear  ghastlier  hues  !    Cold  damps  are  bn;  his^brow; 

With  intense  passions  the  red  veins  are  dwdlM ; 

The  white  lip  quivers  with  suspended  sobs,  ' 

And  his  dark  eyes  are  glazed  with  tears,  which  stiU 

He  is  too  stem  to  shed.    His  countenance  bears 

Wild  and  fearful  traces  of  the  years 

Which  have  passed  on  in  guilt    Pride,  headatrong  ire, 

Have  left  their  marks  behind.    Tet,  mid  thia  war 

Of  evil  elements,  some  glimpses  shine 

Of  better  feelings,  which  the  clouded  stars 

Soon  set  in  night    A  sullen  sound  awakes 

The  silence  of  the  cell, — ^and  up  he  starts, 

Boused  from  the  dizzy  trance  of  wretchedness. 

And  gasps  for  breath,  as  that  deep  solemn  toll 

Sinks  on  his  spirit  like  a  warning  voice 

Sent  from  Eternity  !    Again,  it  rolls  ! 

Thy  awful  bell,  St  Sepulchre,  which  tells 

The  criminal  of  death  !    His  life-pulse  stops 

As  if  in  awe,  and  then  beats  rapidly. 

Flushes  a  sudden  crimson  on  his  face. 

And  leaves  it  deadlier  than  before. 

The  door  was  open'd,  and  the  chains  were  struck 
From  off  his  shackled  limbs.    They  led  him  forth— 
They  led  him  on.    His  step  was  firm,  although 
His  face  was  deadly  pale.    And  when  he  reached 
The  scaffold,  he  knelt  meekly  down,  and  pray'd. 
Silence  was  all  around.    His  eyes  were  closed. 
This  world  one  gasp  concluded,  and  to  him 
Open'd  eternity  \ 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 


CAME1.0-PARDU8. 


Tbb  description  which  Moses  g;ivea  of  clean  animala, 
'hicb  might  be  eaten  according  to  the  Levitical  law, 
xactly  eorxeaponda  with  the  Giraffe,  or  Camelo-pardua. 
t  ie  likely  one  of  those  dean  beaats  mentioned  in 
teut.  xiv.  5,  6, — "  The  hart,  and  the  roebvicls.,  Miik'Cafe 
dlotr  deer,  and  die  tviJd  goat,  and  ttie  V??!*''^^'  ^■^^ 
e  trild  ox,  and  the  chamois.  And  every  \»e.aa^  ^tobS. 
-teth  the  hoof,  and  cleavelh  the  cleft  into  two  <i\a.-«». 


18  SACRED  zooLoar. 

and  cheweth  the  cud  an^ongst  the  beasts,  that  shall  ye 
eat." 

This  singular  animal  is  the  tallest  of  quadrupeds, 
reaching,  from  the  soles  of  the  fore- feet  to  the  top  of 
the  head,  the  astonishing  height  of  from  fifteen  to  six- 
teen feet.  The  general  appearance  of  the  animal  is 
not  destitute  of  picturesque  effect.  The  head  is  small, 
resembling  that  of  the  Stag.  The  aspect  is  mild,  and 
the  eyes  are  large  and  animated.  The  neck  is  ex- 
tremely long  and  tapering,  and  the  disposition  of 
colours  singular  and  pleasing,  many  brown  spots  being 
scattered  over  a  whitish  ground.  A  short  stiffish  mane 
runs  from  the  head  to  the  middle  of  the  back.  The 
tail  is  of  moderate  length,  and  terminating  in  a  tuft  of 
long  hair.  The  hoofs  are  moderately  large  and  black, 
and  the  horns  about  half  a  foot  in  length.  The  fore 
part  of  the  body  is  very  thick  and  muscular,  and  the 
hind  part  thin  and  meagre,  so  that  when  the  animal  is 
viewed  in  front,  none  of  the  rest  is  visible.  There 
are  some  noble  specimens  of  this  peculiarly  formed 
quadruped  in  the  ZoolK^ical  Crardens  of  London,  and 
which  I  have  looked  upon  wkb  wonder  and  delight ! 

This  animal  is  chiefly  a  native  of  Ethiopia  ;  and  is 
also  found  in  other  parts  of  Africa,  and  even  of  Asia. 
It  is  rarely  taken  alive,  except  when  young.  It  is  in 
its  disposition  mild  and  timid  ;  but  when  put  upon  its 
defence,  it  is  capable  of  repelling  its  enemies  by  severe 
and  repeated  kicks.  It  feeds  principally  on  the  leaves 
and  tender  twigs  of  trees.  Small  groups,  consisting  of 
six  or  seven  individuals,  are  sometimes  observed  to- 
gether ;  but  when  disturbed,  they  run  off  and  disappear 
with  wonderful  expedition.  The  female  goes  twelve 
months  with  young,  and  has  never  two  at  a  birth. 
What  reason  have  we  to  exclaim,  (Psal.  xl.  5,) 
'*Many,  O  Lord  my  God,  are  thy  wonderful  works 
which  thou  hast  done  ! " 


19 
SERMON  11. 

CUP     OF     SALVATION.* 


Part  I. 
"Itoill  take  the  Cup  of  Salvation." — Psal,  cxvi.  13. 

May  God  the  Holy  Spirit  bless  this  sermon  on  the 
Cup  of  Salvation  !  Bj  his  gracious  influence  maj  it 
be  the  means  of  persuading  many  young  immortals  to 
take,  and  drink  the  Cup  of  Salvation.  While  you  are 
reading  this  sermon,  send  up  your  supplications  to 
Heaven's  throne,  and  pray  that  the  God  of  Salvation 
may  enable  you  to  take,  and  drink  the  Cup  of  Salva- 
tion ! 

Cup  in  Scripture  has  different  meanings.  In  the 
following  passage  it  is  taken  in  its  literal  sense.  It 
contains  a  counsel  which  particularly  applies  to  drinkers 
of  wine  ;  or,  as  they  are  commonly  called,  wine  bibbers, 
Prov.  xxiii.  31,  ^*Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine  when 
it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  his  colour  in  the  cup,  when  it 
moveth  itself  aright.  At  the  last  it  biteth  like  a 
serpent  and  stingeth  like  an  adder." 

God,  as  a  gracious  God,  and  as  the  God  of  Salva- 
tion, is  called  a  Cup, — the  believer's  Cup.  Psal.  xvi.  5, 
"  The  Lord  is  the  portion  of  mine  inheritance  and  of  my 
Cup."  Blessed  is  that  child  who  can  say,  "  Jesus  is 
my  Cup!" 

The  abundant  blessings  of  Providence  are  called  a 
Cup.  Psal.  xxiii.  5,  "Thou  preparest  a  table  before 
me  in  the  presence  of  mine  enemies,  thou  anointest 
my  head  with  oil,  and  my  cup  runneth  over."  Does 
the  cup  of  our  lot  run  over  with  the  blessings  of 
Providence  ?  Oh,  may  our  hearts  o'erflow  with  feel- 
ings of  thankfulness  and  love  ! 

Erroneom  doctrines  are  called  a  Cup.     In  speaking 
of  these,  the  Apostle  uses  very  strong  \a\i^\3i^%<^.    ^<^ 
Bays,  (1  Cor.  x,  21,)    "  Ye  cannot  drmV  \W  ^\x^  ^*^ 

*  TbiB  Sermon  was  preached  to  childreTiiTL  Qt\»aeQ^,AWOB^^«^ 
\at,  m  the  City  HalL 


20  8£BM0N. 

the  Lord,  and  the  cup  of  devils,"     Satan  is  the  father 
of  errors,  as  well  as  the  father  of  liars.     He  fills  the     I 
cup  with  the  deadly  poison  of  error  ;  and  woe  will  be 
to  those  who  drink  the  deadly  cup  ! 

A  miched  city  is  called  a  cup.  Such  was  Babylon, 
because  she  corrupted  cities  and  nations.  Jer.  li.  7, 
''  Babylon  hath  been  a  golden  cup  in  the  Lord's  hand, 
and  made  all  the  earth  drunken  :  the  nations  have 
drunken  of  her  wine  ;  therefore  the  nations  are  mad." 

An  afflicted  city  is  called  a  cup,  and  a  cup  of  trem- 
bling. Zech.  xii.  2,  '*  Behold,  I  will  make  Jerusalem 
a  cup  of  trembling  to  all  the  people  round  about,  when 
they  shall  be  in  the  siege,  both  against  Judah,  and 
against  Jerusalem."  This  intimates  the  strong  judg- 
ments which  made  them  tremble  with  fear,  and  anguish, 
and  horror.  A  short  while  ago,  the  cities  of  Paris, 
Berlin,  and  Vienna,  were  cups  of  trembling.  By  some 
dreadful  riots,  it  is  not  long  since  Glasgow  was  likelj 
to  have  been  a  cup  of  trembling ;  but  God  most 
graciously  heard  his  people's  prayers,  and  disappointed 
their  fears. 

God's  wrath  is  called  a  Cup.  Psal.  Ixxv.  8,  "  For 
in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  there  is  a  cup,  and  the  wine  is 
red  ;  it  is  full  of  mixture,  and  he  poureth  out  of  the 
same :  but  the  dregs  thereof,  all  the  wicked  of  the 
earth  shall  wring  them  out,  and  drink  them." 

Christ's  sufferings  are  called  a  Cup.  Matt.  xxvi.  39, 
^'  He  prayed,  saying.  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass 
from  me :  nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thoa 
wilt." 

Salvation,  with  all  its  blessings,  is  called  a  Cap.  As 
we  find  in  the  words  of  our  text,  David  says,  witii  holy 
devotion,  thankfulness,  and  joy,  "  I  will  take  the  cap 
of  salvation,  and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  shall  endea- 
vour to  show,  1st,  What  \\i^  C\x^  of  Salvation  is ;  2d, 
Mention    some    properties  ol  xXsa^  x^caaffesi^J^k  <a«^\ 
Sd.    Point  out  some  strong  reasons  ^kV^  ^wl  ^^isi^ 
take,  and  drink  this  cu^  •,  «^^^.  \xX\xiU^xM»\ft^« 


8EBH0K.  21 

notice  several  persons  mentioned  in  Scripture  who 
took,  and  drank  this  Gup  of  Salvation. 

And  may  Grod  the  Holy  Spirit  bless  this  sermon, 
for  the  conviction  and  conversion  of  many  youthful 
immortals  ! 

I.  I  shall  show  what  the  Cup  of  Salvation  is. 

There  is,  first,  the  Cup;  and,  secondly,  what  the 
Cup  contains — Salvation. 

First,  there  is  the  Cup. 

After  thinking  seriously  on  this  Cup,  I  conclude 
that  it  must  mean  the  OospeL  There  are  some  very 
remarkable  cups.  J£  I  showed  you  one  of  them,  and 
Eisked  you  the  following  question,  "  What  is  this  cup 
made  of?"  you  would  answer,  "It  is  made  of  silver, 
and  gold,  and  precious  stones."  The  chief  part  of 
the  cup  is  formed  of  silver,  the  beautiful  mouth,  or 
edge  of  the  cup,  is  made  of  gold,  and  on  the  sides  of 
the  cup  there  are  precious  stones,  and  jewels  of  spark- 
ling beauty.  Then  you  would  say,  "  What  a  lovely, 
Bostly  cup  I"  Come,  now,  and  see  what  this  Cup  of 
Salvation  is  made  of, — ^this  Gospel  cup.  As  to  the 
word  Gospel  itself,  it  means  good  news,  or  good 
tidings  ;  as  the  angel  said  to  the  shepherds  at  Bethle- 
hem, (Luke  iL  10,)  "  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings 
of  great  joy."  I  have  mentioned  a  literal  cup,  con- 
sisting of  three  things, — gold,  silver,  and  precious 
3tones.  Now,  this  gospel  cup  consists  of  ^bwr  things 
more  precious  than  gold,  and  silver,  and  rubies.  Be- 
loved young  friends,  particularly  observe  these  ybwr. 
This  gospel  cup  consists  of  precious  doctrines,  precious 
invitations  of  mercy,  precious  offers  of  grace,  and  pre- 
idous  promises  of  truth.  Oh,  what  a  cup  !  what  a 
wonderful  cup ! 

This  gospel  cup  consists  of  precious  doctrines.  What 
IS  a  doctrine  ?    It  is  something  taught,  whether  good 
or  bad.     A  bad  book^  an  infidel  book,  \.«!Wi\vRa  "W^ 
\n£de]  doctrines,  or  opinions.      But  vjiiat  Wvft  %q«^ 
aacbea  are  good  doetrines, — holy,  divine  tTW\)aa.    ^>a» 
UowiDg  18  a  specimen.      The    gos^\  tewSciea    ^^ 


22  SERK017. 

doctrine  of  One  Jehovah,  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  One  God.  It  teaches  another  doctrine,  namely, 
God's  plans  and  purposes  of  wisdom  and  of  mercy. 
It  teaches  the  doctrine  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  in 
which  the  Father  and  the  Son  agreed  from  all  eternity 
on  the  great  suhject  of  the  salvation  of  men.  It  teaches 
the  doctrine  of  redemption  through  the  person  and 
righteousness  of  Christ  alone.  And  it  teaches  the 
doctrines  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  resurrection 
of  the  body,  and  the  eternal  blessedness  of  heaven.  A 
minister  who  faithfully  preaches  these  doctrines  ia 
called  "  a  doctrinal  preacher."  Thus,  I  have  told  you 
that  the  first  thing  of  which  the  gospel  cup  consists  is 
doctrines. 

This  cup  consists,  secondly,  of  "  precious  invitations 
of  mercy."  You  know  what  an  invitation  is.  If  a 
friend  ask  you  to  his  house  to  come  and  dine  with  him, 
that  is  an  invitation.  There  are  many  invitations  of 
mercy  found  in  the  gospel ;  and  these  add  very  mach 
to  the  richness  and  beauty  of  the  cup;  Take  the  fol- 
lowing as  a  specimen.  Matt.  xi.  28—30.  Jesus  says 
in  his  kind  inviting  voice,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye 
that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me ;  for 
I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest 
unto  your  souls.  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  boiden 
is  light."  Young  friends,  seek  grace^  that  you  may 
hear  and  accept  these  merciful  invitations ! 

This  gospel  cup  also  consi^s  of  precioos  offers  of 

grace.    In  the  gospel,  Jesus  comes  to  young  sinners 

with  all  the  blessings  of  salvation  in  bis  hand.    He 

holds  up  these  great  blessings  before  their  eyes,  and  he 

offers  them  most  kindly  for  their  acceptance.     Jesus  is 

called  Wisdom.    And  what  does  Wisdom  say?  and 

what  does  Wisdom  offer  ?     Thus  Wisdom  speaks,  and 

thus  Wisdom  offers,  1?tov.n\\\. \Q^\1^  '^Receive  my 

instruction  and  not  a\\ve?T*,  ^u^V^o^VA.^T^S&sst'^MBL 

choice  ffold.     For  wisdom  \^\>^v^«  VJft«sxTxWva^«A.^ 

the   things  that  inay  \>e  ^^^^^  «^  ^^'^  \.^\-^«^ 


SERMON.  23 

pared  unto  it."    May  the  Holy  Spirit  enable  iny  young 
friends  to  accept  the  offers  of  grace  I 

This  gospel  cup  consists,  fourthly,  of  precious  prO' 
mises.  If  we  compare  the  Bible  to  the  sky,  the  pro- 
mises are  the  stars  which  sparkle  and  shine  with  great 
brightness  in  that  sacred  sky.  Have  you  not  been 
often  astonished,  when  you  have  looked  up  to  the  sky 
after  the  sun  was  set,  and  beheld  the  vast  multitude  of 
beautiful  stars  in  all  their  glory,  shining  in  the  firma- 
ment? But  the  promises  which  shine  in  such  vast 
numbers  in  the  firmament  of  the  Bible  are  stars  of  far 
greater  brightness,  and  far  greater  loveliness.  Come, 
and  see,  and  admire,  the  two  following  promises.  The 
first  is  especially  the  promise  for  the  young.  Prov. 
viii.  17.  "I  love  them  that  love  me:  and  those  that 
seek  me  early  shall  find  me."  May  this  promise  rejoice 
your  heart !  The  following  precious  promise  has  re- 
joiced the  hearts  of  myriads,  and  may  it  gladden  yours. 
Isa.  Iv.  3,  "  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me : 
hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live :  and  I  will  make  an 
everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies  of 
David." 

I  have  thus  endeavoured,  with  great  plainness,  to 
describe  the  gospel  cup  as  consisting  of  doctrines,  in- 
vitations, offers,  and  promises.  And  no  cup  in  the 
palaces  of  kings,  though  consisting  of  silver,  and  gold, 
and  precious  stones,  was  ever  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  this. 

Secondly,  we  are  to  show  what  this  wonderful  cup 
contains.     It  contains  Salvation.     And  because  it 
contains  salvation,  it  is  called  the  Cup  of  Salvation, 
One  cup  may  contain  honey  and  milk.     Another  may 
contain  refreshing  water  from   the  fountain.      And 
another  may  contain  delicious  wine.     But  what  these 
cups  contain  is  nothing,  compared  with  what  this  cup 
contains.     These  cups  contain  what  \a  xi^^lviX.  ^ot  *^^ 
body;  this  cup  that  which  is  useful  foT  i>aft  Ticket  ^Y^»^^ 
oaL    What  these  cups  contain  must  ipens^'.  ^V-aX.  ^C»s^ 
jp  contains  shall  endure  for  ever,    "W\»X  VSaeasfe  ^^^ 


24  SERMON. 

contain  is  useful  for  the  life  that  now  is :  what  this 
contains,  prepares  for  a  life  of  glory  and  immortality 
in  heaven. 

This  cup  contains  Salvation.  Some  think  that  sal- 
vation only  consists  in  deliverance  from  the  miseries  of 
hell,  or  in  having  their  sins  forgiven.  But  thej  are  in 
a  great  mistake.  Salvation  certainly  contains  these 
two,  but  it  contains  miich  more. 

Endeavour,  young  friends,  seriously  to  attend,  while 
I  attempt  to  show  you,  of  what  salvation  consists, 
or,  what  it  contains.  The  loveliest  jewels  of  thedia" 
dems  of  kings,  are  despicable  when  compared  with  the  j 
precious  blessings  which  salvation  contains.  The  fol- 
lowing are  among  the  rich  collection,  namely,  conver- 
sion, the  pardon  of  sin,  acceptance  with  God,  admission 
into  the  family  of  God,  the  graces  of  the  spirit,  fellow- 
ship with  God,  a  happy  death,  a  glorious  resurrection, 
and  a  blessed  heaven.  I  think  I  hear  a  pious  child 
exclaim,  "  Oh,  how  lovely,  oh,  how  precious  these  bless- 
ings of  a  great  salvation  are  !"    . 

Look  at  the  first,  namely,  "  conversion."  May  this 
be  yours !  Then  your  hard  heart  will  be  softened, 
your  black  heart  be  made  as  white  as  snow,  and  your 
heart  of  enmity  be  changed  into  a  heart  of  love. 
Then  '^  old  things  shall  pass  away,  and  all  things 
shall  become  new."    2  Cor.  v.  17. 

Look  at  the  second^  namely  "  the  pardon  of  sin."  Ok ! 
seek  pardon  with  penitent  hearts,  looking  to  Jesus, 
and  God  will  forgive  you.  He  will  say,  "  I,  even  I, 
am  he  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for  mine  own 
sake,  and  will  not  remember  thy  sins."  Isa.  xliii.  25. 

Look  at  the   third  blessing,  namely,  "  acceptance 

with  God."    If  a  son  greatly  offends  his  father,  he  maj 

for  some  time  not  allow  him  to  come  into  his  presence. 

Some  days  after,  the  offending  son  is  penitent,  comes  to 

his  father,  batbed  in  te«t^,  wvd  aa-YS^  **  Father,  I  have 

sinned  against  thee  V     TYi^  Yva.^  Safi^Kt  s>uxics^i^  Vml 

arms  around  his  sou's  Ilec^,Tee«v:s[^^2^^VD^»^a^^«a^ 

and  changes  his  fro^M  mXo  OTa!iea.  i:tM.\^  a««|jua« 


SERMON.  25 

Thus,  Grod  accepts  penitent  children,  who  cry  to  him 
for  mercy  through  a  Saviour's  death.  And  then  they 
sing  with  joyful  hearts  "  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of 
his  grace,  wherein  he  hath  made  us  accepted  in  the 
beloved."  Eph.  i.  6. 

Look  at  the  fourth  blessing,  namely,  "  adoption." 
To  be  adopted,  is  to  be  made  a  child  of  God — to  be 
made  one  of  his  family.  A  rich  man  takes  pity  upon 
the  child  of  a  poor  beggar  woman,  puts  him  among  the 
number  of  his  children,  and  makes  him  his  son.  You 
see  him  playing  with  the  other  children,  on  a  bright 
summer's  day  on  the  soft  green  lawn,  before  the  rich 
man's  noble  dwelling,  attended  by  a  kind  maid-servant. 
Oh,  what  a  change  on  that  child !  He  is  adopted  !  It  is 
this  which  God  does  to  little  children  who  seek  his 
grace.  He  adopts  them.  He  takes  them  from  Satan's 
family  and  makes  them  his  sons.  He  says  then,  **  Wilt 
thou  not  from  this  time  cry  unto  me.  My  father,  thou 
art  the  guide  of  my  youth  ?"  Jer.  iii.  4. 

Look  at  the  fifth  blessing,  "  The  graces  of  the  Spirit." 
Do  you  wish  me  to  name  some  of  these  graces  ?  I  will 
do  it  with  pleasure.  Repentance,  faith,  love,  hope, 
joy,  patience,  zeal,  meekness,  gentleness,  and  heavenly- 
mindedness.  These  are  the  graces  of  the  Spirit.  Pray 
that  they  may  be  yours.  Then  you  shall  be  "  like  the 
wings  of  a  dove  covered  with  silver,  and  her  feathers 
with  yellow  gold."  Psal.  Ixviii.  13. 

Look  at  the  sixth  blessing,  "  Fellowship  with  God." 
To  speak  with  God  in  prayer,  and  to  converse  with 
God  in  the  ordinances  of  religion — ^what  a  privilege  ! 
what  an  enjoyment !  Then  the  pious  child  can  say,  "  I 
sat  down  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his 
fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste."  Song  ii.  3. 

Look  at  the  seventh  blessing,  "  a  happy,  an  unstinged 
death."  Oh,  may  that  blessing  be  yours.  When  you 
die,  may  you  fall  asleep  in  the  bosom  of  JesM-a.  Eot 
«  blessed  are  the  dend  who  die  in  theLotd.'*  'fiLekN  .ta:^  A*^* 

Zook  at  the  eighth  blessing,  "  a  g\oT\o\xa  t^'&\>x^<2:R»- 
on."    May  that  blessing  be  yours.      TViw,  ^Q^^ 


26  KAME8  AND  TITLES  OF  JESUS. 

your  bodies  may  slumber  for  many  centuries  in  tbe 
tomb,  you  shall  at  last  awake,  come  forth,  and  shne 
brighter  than  the  stars,  for  ever  and  ever.  Dan.  xii.  3. 
Look  at  the  last  blessing,  *<  a  happy  heaven."  Oh, 
may  this  blessing  be  yours  !  At  last,  may  you  land 
on  the  heavenly  Canaan's  blessed,  peaceful  shores !  Li 
the  prospect,  may  you  and  I  sing,  in  holy  expectation 
of  that  blessed  land,  "  Far — far  away, — ^" 

"  When  I  can  read  my  titie  clear. 
To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
I  bid  farewell  to  every  fear. 
And  wipe  my  weeping  eyes  ! " 

{To  he  cordinued  in  the  next  Number,) 


NAMES  AND  TITLES  OF  JESUS  ALPHABETICALLY     ) 

ARRANGED.  I 

We  have  considered  the  blessed  names  and  tiileB  of  ChiM 
commencing  with  the  letter  A ;  we  now  proceed  to  consider  ibkoee 
beginning  with  the  letter  B. 

First, — Oar  Saviour  was  called  a  Babb.  And  he  vxu  a  Babe. 
Luke  ii.  16,  "  They  came  with  haste,  and  found  Mary^  and  Jose^ 
and  the  Babe  lying  in  a  manger."  How  interesting  ii  is  to  aee 
a  little  lovely,  helpless  babe  1  How  beauUfdl  are  its  smiling 
eyes,  its  rosy  cheeks,  its  mby  lips  1  How  wonderful !  Jessi 
was  once  a  babe.  Not  only  a  soul,  but  the  Divinity,  the  grett 
God,  dwelt  in  that  babe,  and  still  dwells  in  his  humanity  in 
heaven.  In  the  feeble  Babe  of  Bethl^em  **  Gk>d  was  manifested 
in  the  flesh.''  What  a  great,  what  a  glorious  mystery  is  this! 
Say,  with  wonder  and  with  love,  while  you  think  of  Jesus  as  the 
little  Babe  of  Bethlehem : — 

'*  Soft  and  easy  was  our  cradle ; 
Coarse  and  hard  the  Saviour  lay ; 
For  his  birth-place  was  a  stable. 
And  his  softest  bed  was  hay.'* 

Secondly r-Oxa  blessed  Jesus  is  called  Balm,  Jer.  viii.  22, "  la 

there  no  balm  in  GileadT    What  is  halmt    It  is  a  substsDee 

which  comes  out  of  treea,  \ikft  resin.    The  smell  is  most  deUdosB 

and  refreshing.    There  \%\ii\\i^\»AQ'l^^AA&.«.\x»t^^aUML^ 

balm-tree,  which  la  tTaiued  \\Y^  o;«  "^l-  >«:«»«si^^^:^Sl 

aidered,  Jesuais  the  Qkbjlt  ^^^'^^^^.^^^^^,,^'^11; 


PRACTICAL  WISDOM.  27 

s  of  his  Holy  Spirit.  They  who  receive  by  faith  this  balm, 
ade  whole,  whatever  be  the  spiritual  diseases  of  their  soul. 
y  my  dear  young  friends,  and  receive  this  balm,  and  your 
shall  be  healed.  If  you  have  the  swearing  disease,  or  the 
disease,  or  the  stealing  disease,  or  the  prayerless  disease, 
aim  will  take  all  these  diseases  away.  Oh,  seek  and  receive 
lalm.  Bemember  what  it  did  to  wicked  King  Manasseh ; 
it  did  to  the  thief  upon  the  cross ;  and  what  it  did  to  Saul 
rsus.  Oh,  remember  this,  and  be  encouraged  to  seek  and 
e  this  balm,  this  precious,  this  healing  balm  of  grace. 

'*  This  blessed  hoXw,  did  Wisdom  find. 
To  heal  diseases  of  the  mind ; 
This  remedy,  whose  virtues  can 
Restore  the  ruined  creature  man." 

irdlyy — Our  Saviour  is  called  the  Bkqinnino.     Col.  i.  18. 

0  is  the  beginning,  the  first-bom  from  the  dead."  Why  is 
called  the  Beginning]  He  is  called  so  for  four  reasons. 
He  is  the  beginning  of  creation — he  made  all  things. 

id.  He  is  the  Beginning  of  the  Church.  The  first  convert 
{generated,  and  all  have  ever  since  been  saved  by  his  grace. 
I,  He  is  the  beginning  of  grace.  He  is  its  original  fountain, 
fourth.  He  is  the  beginning  of  Glory.    He  alone  will  give 

and  glory. 

urthly, — He  is  called  Beloved.  Song.  v.  10.  "  My  Beloved 
ite  and  ruddy."    Some  can  say.  Houses  and  lands,  gold  and 

are  ours.    But  that  child  who  can  say,  "  Jesus  is  mine,  he 

1  beloved  of  my  heart,"  has  more  real  wealth  than  all  the 
and  silver  which  the  mines  of  the  earth  contain.  Holy 
i,  enable  all  of  us  to  say — 

'*  Jesus,  in  thee  our  eyes  behold 
A  thousand  glories  moi«. 
Than  the  rich  gems  of  polished  gold 
The  sons  of  Aaron  wore." 


PRACTICAL  WISDOM. 

:  that  would  be  wise  must  read  God's  book ;  and  he  that 
i  be  holy,  must  approach  God's  throne.    He  that  would  be 
fol,  must  remember  God's  mercies.    He  that  would  be  coh- 
must  trust  God's  providence.    He  that  "WOvxV^  \ifc  tmi^> 
imitate  bia  forbearance.     He  that  'would  \)e  TEL«t<i\Svi\,  td:!q&\» 
is  lore.    He  that  would  be  haptty,  must  eTs^a^  \i\A  «ibcCvss^ 
tt  would  be  Baved,  must  believe  God'a  Eon,  wAVvr^^ 
^ory.^rrom  my  friend,  tke  Bev.  John  iSibrce,qf  Co-oenfit-nj. 


28  YOUTH    INSTRUCTING   OLD   AGE ! 


PRACTICAL  FOLLY. 

In  order  to  enjoy  the  present,  it  is  necessary  to  be  in 
the  present.  To  be  doing  one  thing,  and  thinking  (of  f 
is  a  very  unsatisfactory  mode  of  spending  life.  Some 
are  always  wishing  themselves  somewhere  else  than  wh( 
are ;  are  thinking  of  something  else  than  what  they  an 
or  of  somebody  else  than  to  whom  they  are  speaking, 
the  way  to  enjoy  nothing,  to  do  nothing  well,  and  U 
nobody.    This  is  practical  folly. — From  the  same. 


WISE  SAYINGS. 

Sinful  Fears. — "  False  fears  bring  true  vexations,  an^ 
nary  grievances  produce  real  sorrows."   Psal.  iv.  3,  5. — 1 

Sin. — "  He  that  hath  slight  thoughts  of  sin,  had  nev 
thoughts  of  God."    Psal.  1.  21.— Dr.  Owen, 

Fellowship  with  Christ. — '*  He  wants  no  company  n 
Christ  for  his  companion."    PsaL  Ixxiii.  25. — Dr.  Sibs. 

Sin  and  Ekpentanob. — "  Sin  is  a  Christian's  greatest  % 
repentance  his  surest  salve" — Calamy, 


A  BOY  OP  TEN  YEARS  OP  AGE,  INSTRUCTIl 
POOR  MAN  AGED  SEVENTY ! 

There  is  a  preaching  station,  and  also  an  infant  and ; 
school,  in  Milton-street,  formerly  Grub-street,  connecti 
Finsbury  Chapel,  of  which  I  am  pastor.  From  a  Me 
takes  a  deep  interest  in  the  above  sacred  object.  I  have  i 
the  following  interesting  communication  :— 

"  Mt  Dear  Dootor, — An  old  man,  upwards  of  seventy 

age,  who  occasionally  attends  our  prayer-meeting  at 

street,  and  whose  heart  is  deeply  affected  by  Divini 

related  the  following  on  Sabbath  morning  last : — ^A  po 

Scripture, '  The  curse  of  the  Lord  is  in  the  house  of  the  ^ 

&c.  &c,  was  a  few  days  ago  impressed  upon  his  mind  as 

so  forcibly  that  he  could  not  help  thinking  about  it ;  luu 

know  where  to  find  It.  He  at  last  mentioned  the  circumsl 

the  family  where  he  ib  lodgvug.  "^Ven  ^  \»\»\^fc  \s(<s^ ,  tea : 

age,  heard  it,  he  said,  *  OTa,  a\x ,  1  ^\!^  ioAVX.  l«t  iwv V  w 

diatelY  took  Ma  Bible  aad  ^.xxmfe^  \.^  \5ftfe;&Q[t\Assii.^i» 

TroY.  iii.  83.      Thus,  you  aee,  ^\v^  ^a^^  >a^i«Maa  ^  t 


WESLEYAN   MISSIONS.  29 

an  old  man;  to  one  who  had  spent  many  years  in  sin  and 
iniquity,  but  who,  by  God's  ffee  unmerited  mercy,  is  now  a  sub- 
ject of  grace.  The  little  fellow  has  been  brought  up  in  our  infant 
school,  and  is  also  in  the  Sabbath  school.  The  good  old  man 
was  deeply  affected  when  relating  it ;  so  much  so,  that  he  could 
scarcely  give  utterance  to  what  he  wished  to  express.  How  it 
humbled  him  when  he  thought  of  God's  sparing  mercy  in  not 
cutting  him  down  when  in  the  midst  of  his  iniquities,  in  his 
neglect  of  OodPs  word  and  commandments.  Oh  !  if  he  had  but 
minded  religion  when  young,  &c.  &c. 
"  This  is  fact,  and  you  may  safely  use  it  as  you  think  best. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  Pastor, 

"  Yours  ever  faithfully,  &c." 
"  To  Rev.  Dr.  Fletcher." 


WE3LEYAN  MISSIONS. 

MISSION  HOUSE  AT   KAWHIA,   NEW   ZEALAND. 

Mb.  Angus,  in  his  very  interesting  book  about  New  Zealand, 
has  given  an  account  of  a  visit  which  he  paid  to  the  Mission- 
house  at  Kawhia.  He  says,  "  The  Mission-house  is  prettily 
situated  on  a  point  of  land  jutting  into  the  harbour;  a  glassy 
sheet  of  water  extends  in  front  of  &e  house,  and  beyond  it  rises 
the  bold  and  rugged  outline  of  the  mountain  of  Peronquia. 

**  To  the  left  of  the  house  is  a  steep  cliff,  where  the  goats 
belonging  to  the  Mission  Station  generally  browse ;  and  from 
this  elevation  a  fine  commanding  view  may  be  obtained  of  Kaw- 
hia harbour,  with  the  ocean  breaking  with  foam  beyond.  The 
chapel  stands  on  an  elevated  terrace  behind  the  house.  The 
morning  service,  which  we  attended,  was  conducted  both  in  the 
Maori  (or  New  Zealand)  and  English  languages ;  about  fifteen 
Europeans,  including  the  Missionary's  family,  were  present,  and 
the  number  of  natives  congregated  together  could  not  be  less 
than  two  hundred.  They  aJl  sat  grouped  about  on  the  floor  in 
their  customary  attitudes ;  and  nothing  could  exceed  their  atten- 
tion and  decorous  behaviour. 

"  In  the  afternoon  the  chapel  presented  a  lively  and  interesting 
scene ;  the  children  were  gathering  for  school,  and  it  was  a  strik- 
ing sight  to  observe  the  old  chief  Kiwi,  who  had  arrived  in  state 
on  the  previous  day,  now  sitting  quietly  in  the  midst  of  them, 
teaching  the  little  ones  to  read  ! 

"  The  bright  and  sunny  faces  of  tlie  pi^x^Wft  ^Q'?l^\^i^afc^»^^s^^^ 
thejr  took  in  their  learning,  and  tHia  deW^VX.  -vtia  <iQ^"82^:^^^ssia5S^- 
fested  in  the  countenance  of  the  deeply -\a.UiOO^  -^^jcrvsst- 


32 


AN  EPITAPH 

Inscribed  on  Vie  Tombstone  of  the  Rev.  John  Berridge,  laU 
Vicar  of  Everton,  near  Potton  in  Bedfordshire,  wriJtUn  by 
himself,  except  the  last  line. 

HERE  LIB 
THE  EABTHLT  BEXAIEB  OV 

JOHN  BEBBIDGE,  | 

LATE  yiOA&  OF  EYBBTOH^ 

AND  AN  ITINERANT  SERVANT  OF  JBSUB  0HSI8I, 

WHO   LOVED   HIS  MASTER  AND  HIS   WOBX, 

AND,  AFTER  RUNNING  ON  HIS   ERRAHDB   XAET   TMAM 

WAS  OAUOHT  UP  TO  WAIT  OH  HDC   ABOTB. 

READER, 

ART  THOU  BORN  AOAIH) 

NO   SALVATION  WITHOUT  A  HEW   BIBTIE. 

I   WAS   BORN  IN  SIN,  FEBRUART    1716, 

I   REMAINED   IGNORANT  OF  XT  FALLEN  STATE  TILL  ITW 

LIVED  IN   FAITH  AND   WORKS   FOR  BALTATIOV 

TILL   1754.  I 

ADMITTED  TO  EVERTON  VIOARAGB    1755.  I 

FLED     TO    JESUS    ALONE    FOR    REFUGE     1766.  ' 

FELL  ASLEEP  IN  CHRIST  JAN.  22,   1793. 

BEHOLD  AN  ISRAELITE  INDEED  ! — Johu  1.  47. 


LINES 


On  the  Torribstone  of  Mrs.  Mary  Margaret  Bandoll,  in  the  Cent- 
tery  of  Abney  Park,  who  died  September  3,  1848,  ««'' 
72  years. 

'*  Great  was  thy  conflict  here,  and  long  thy  pain. 
The  Tempter  tried  thy  faith,  but  all  in  vain ; 
Strong  in  thy  Saviour's  love,  the  Spirit  wrought  in  tliee, 
Thou  through  that  love  didst  make  the  Tempter  flee ; 
And  never  did  he  get  thee  once  to  yield. 
For  grace  was  always  thy  defence  and  shield ; 
The  only  theme,  while  thou  wast  here  below, 
Christ  and  his  cross,  was  thy  chief  aim  to  know; 
And  now  thy  spirit 's  with  his  ransom'd  saints  above, 
Praising  thy  Saviour  God,  for  his  redeeming  love." 

T.R 

This  eminent  saint  oi  Qto^  ^^  xbjwct^^w*  ^snder  my  fUr 
toral  care,  and  left  a  licYi  VfceXTimwxj  ^IXxsi  Ssv\«Kfc\.  \a.^2sw^ 
i^Aom  she  knew,  aad  lo^eA.  ftom  VV^  ^-g^^;^^;-^^ 
hood. 


SACRED  ZOOLOGY. 

THE    HIND. 

Thz  Hind  is  the  female  deer.  In  the  first  rolume 
f  this  work,  we  have  already  considered  the  Stag 
ad  the  Deer.  In  our  remarks  on  the  Hind,  we  sfaall 
lOre  particularly  attend  to  the  figurative  use  which 
le  Holy  Spirit  makes  of  this  interesting  animal  in  the 
[oly  Scriptures-  The  Hind  is  peculiarly  lovely  and 
Legant ;  she  is  more  feeble  than  the  Hart,  and  is  de- 
itute  of  horns.  It  properly  receives  the  name  Sind 
t  three  years  of  age. 

The  first  mention  of  the  Hind  in  Scripture  is  by 
yjng  Jacot^  whea  be  assembled  his  twelve  sons  arouLod 
ifl  bed,  to  hear  what  should  befall  tlieJr  deac&i\%^'(\\& 
I  the  latter  daja.     Gen.  xUx.  21,  "  Naip\ita\\\a  aTSSa^*- 
:  /ooae;  be  giretb  goodly  words."     Tl\e  "  fi-miVSt 


34  SACRED   ZOOLOGY. 

loose,"  may  express  the  activity  of  that  tribe;  ar 
**  he  giveth  goodlj  words,"  may  express  their  courtes 
Jesus  and  his  Apostles  resided  much  in  the  territoi 
of  that  tribe,  and  the  figure  may  denote  the  activity 
Christ  and  his  disciples,  in  the  performance  of  miracl 
of  mercy,  and  in  their  preaching  the  glad  tidings 
salvation  to  lost  sinners. 

In  2  Sam.  xxii.  34,  David  says,  '*  He  maketh  i 
feet  like  Hinds'  feet.*'  In  Hab.  iii.  19,  the  Propl 
says,  ^'  He  will  make  my  feet  like  Hindi  feet,  ^d 
will  make  me  to  walk  upon  my  high  plaoes.**  As 
the  Psalmist,  he  uses  this  figure  to  show  the  secorl 
of  his  position  under  the  Divine  protection.  And  t 
Prophet,  in  using  a  similar  expression,  shows  that 
placed  implicit  confidence  in  God's  gracious  pow 
that  he  believed  he  should  be  delivered  from  all  1 
troubles,  and  that  he  should  completely  escape  its 
every  impending  and  surrounding  danger. 

God  himself,  in  his  address  to  Job  out  of  the  whi 
wind,  condescendingly  puts  to  his  servant  the  follow] 
questions.  Job  xxxix.  1 — 3  :  "  Canst  thou  mark  wl 
the  Hinds  do  calve  ?  Canst  thou  number  the  men 
that  they  fulfil  ?  or  knowest  thou  the  time  when  tl 
bring  forth  ?  They  bow  themselves,  they  bring  fo: 
their  young  ones,  they  cast  out  their  sorrows." 
is  well  known  that  Hinds  calve  with  great  difficu 
and  pain.  Why  this  is  the  case,  is  one  of  the  mystei 
of  Providence,  but  doubtless  some  wise  though  \ 
known  purpose  is  served  by  it.  It  would  seem  tl 
the  agitation  of  thunder  assists  the  Hind  in  bringi 
forth  her  young.  Therefore  we  read,  Psal.  xxix. 
^'  The  voice  of  the  Lord  maketh  the  Hinds  to  cal 
and  discovereth  the  forests." 

Solomon  employs  the  Hind^  in  its  fidelity  and  att» 

ment  to  its  mate,  as  a  beautiful  figure,  to  enforce  oil 

the  young  man  chastity  and  afiection  to  the  wife  of  i 

bosom.     Prov.  v.  IS,  \9^  ^^^B^fe^cA^cfe^^v^VJa^^lfe  oft 

youth.     Let  her  \>^  aa  v\i^  ViVvsi^  ^\tA  «sA  ^^ 


8BRM0K.  3^ 

The  Church  is  represented  in  Song  ii.  7.  and  iii.  5, 
as  thus  addressing  nominal  professors,  and  calling  upon 
them  not  to  disturb  her  fellowship  with  Christ :  '*  I 
charge  you,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes» 
and  by  the  Hinds  of  the  field,  that  ye  stir  not  up  nor 
awake  my  love  till  he  please."  As  if  the  Church  had 
said,  "  I  charge  you,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  as 
you  would  be  cautious  and  careful  how  you  disturb 
the  roes  and  Hinds  of  the  field,  those  lovely  timorous 
creatures,  so  I  would  have  you  be  as  cautious  how  you 
would  disturb  my  fellowship  with  Jesus,  the  ol^ect  of 
my  affiection,  and  the  fountain  of  my  happiness^" 

May  your  hearts^  my  young  friends,  be  fired  and 
filled  with  love  to  Christ*  Though  you  are  young, 
may  you  know  what  it  is  to  enjoy  Christ's  fellowship, 
in  the  exercise  of  grace,  and  in  the  diligent  and  delight- 
ful observance  of  the  ordinances  of  religion !  Then 
you  shall  be  able  to  say  with  the  heart, — 

"  I  charge  you  all,  ye  earthly  toys, 
Approach  not  to  disturb  my  joys  ; 
Kor  sin  nor  hell  come  near  my  heart, 
Nor  cause  my  Saviour  to  depart.'* 


SERMON  III. 

CUP    OF     SALVATION. 


Pabt  II. 
"  /  wiU  take  the  Cup  op  Salvation." — PaaL  cxvi.  13. 

Mt  young  friends,  I  have  addressed  to  you  one 
germon,  in  the  preceding  Number  of  this  work,  on  the 
Cup  of  Salvation.  In  humble  dependence  on  Divine 
grace,  I  now  proceed  to  address  to  you  a  second.  May 
each  one  of  jrou  read  it  with  profttl  Yra.^  i^cst  >^^^ 
blessing.  Pray  fervently y  for  Christ's  S«J5.%,  ^^"^^  l^'^ 
ball  obtain  the  blessing.      Men  may  \eii3L  ^  ^^^^  ^"^^ 


36  SEBMON. 

to  the  petitions  of  fellow-men  ;  but  God  never  lends  a 
deaf  ear  to  the  earnest  prayers  of  little  children.  I7o, 
never.  Before  you  finish  the  reading  of  this  sermon, 
may  you  be  taught  and  enabled  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
sq-y,  **I  will  take  the  Cup  of  Salvation!"  With  all 
my  heart  I  say,  "  Amen,  amen." 

Already  I  have  shown  you  that  the  Cup  spoken  of 
in  the  text  is  the  Gospel,  consisting  of  Doctrines, 
Invitations  of  Mercy,  Offers  of  Grace,  and  Promises  of 
Truth.  I  have  also  shown  what  that  Salvation  is 
which  the  Cup  contains ;  namely,  Conversion,  Pardon, 
Acceptance,  Adoption,  the  Graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
a  Happy  Death,  a  Blessed  Resurrection,  c^nd  a  Glorious 
Heaven. 

The  Properties  and  Excellences  op  the  Cup 
OF  Salvation.  May  your  young  hearts  be  deeply, 
seriously,  and  delightfully  impressed  while  I  tell  you 
somie  remarkable  things  about  this  Cup. 

1st.  God  made  the  Cup.  No  angel,  with  all  his 
wisdom,  could  contrive  this  wonderful  Cup;  and  no 
archangel,  with  ajl  his  power,  could  make  this  wonder- 
ful Cup.  God  alone  is  the  Contriver  of  the  Cup. 
God  alone  is  the  Maker  of  the  Cup.  Boundless  love 
moved  him  to  contrive  the  Cup ;  and  boundless  lo?e 
to  our  ruined  race,  and  to  ruined  children,  moved  him 
to  make  the  Cup.  As  God  our  Saviour  contrived  and 
made  tjie  Cup  of  Salvation,  oh,  how  well  does  he  de- 
serve to  be  c;gilled  "The  God  of  Salvation!'*  May 
every  child  who  reads  these  lines  be  taught  to  say, 
^*  Behold,  God  is  my  Salvation."  Isa.  xii.  2. 

2d.  It  is  a  very  predotis  Cup.     It  is  80  precioiis, 

that  we  cannot  tell,  we  cannot  conceive  how  precious, 

bow  valuable  it  is,     A  diamond  as  large  as  the  world 

would  be  nothing,  yes,  nothing,  less  than  nothing,  and 

vanity,  compared  witb  it.     How  rich  are  they  who  can 

say,   "This  Cup  ia  mmel"     And  the  poorest  child 

among  you  is  'weVcota^  \.o  t^^w^^  ^^a*  ^\y^ — .-^^  io 

call  this  Cup  your  oviii.     Axv^  ^\v^^  l^^xi.  ^saav  ^a^^ 

Cup  your  own,  you  are  moTe>«^\vVj  xXvw^VIt^x^— ^ 


SERMON.  37 

call  the  whole  world  your  own.     So  precious  is  this 
Cap,  that  it  cost  Jesus  his  bloody  his  life  t 

3d.  It  is  a  very  ancient  Cup.  There  are  some  few 
golden  cups,  in  the  palaces  of  kings,  several  hundred 
l^ears  old.  But  this  Cup  is  nearly  six  thousand  years 
3ld.  It  is  as  ancient  as  the  days  of  Adam.  He,  and 
Eve,  and  Abel,  their  pious  son,  were  the  first  who  put 
khis  Cup  to  their  lips,  and  drank  the  refreshing  water 
af  salvation  which  it  contains.  This  Cup  suffers  nothing 
t>y  age.  It  looks  as  well  as  it  did  at  the  beginning* 
[t  is  as  bright,  and  beautiful,  and  glorious  as  ever.  The 
mn  loses  nothing  by  age,  neither  does  this  Clip,  this 
wonderful  Cup. 

4th.  It  is  very  large.  The  bed  of  the  great  ocean 
may  be  called  an  immense  cup.  It  is  filled  with  briny 
waters.  But  the  bed  of  the  Atlantic,  or  the  bed  of 
'h&  Pacific  Ocean,  which  is  much  larger,  is  nothing 
ike  this  great  Cup  of  Salvation,  provided  for  all  the 
dngdoms  of  the  world,  and  for  all  the  generations 
)f  men  that  shall  ever  live  upon  the  face  of  the 
3arth. 

5th.  It  is  a  full  Cup.  It  is  not  only  full,  but  over^ 
lowing,  and  ever  flowing  over.  Oh,  what  multitudes 
lave  drunk  of  this  Cup  since  the  days  of  Adam  till  the 
present  day !  and  the  Cup  has  never  diminished.  The 
)lessings  which  it  contains  are  as  abundant  as  ever^ 
ind  these  blessings  shall  overflow  for  ever  and  ever. 
IToung  friends,  drink  of  this  overflowing  Cup ! 

6th.  It  is  a  free  Cup.  Blessed,  blessed  truth  !  You 
ire  required  to  pay  nothing  to  drink.  And  it  is  well ; 
or  you  have  nothing  to  pay*  What  could  you  pay  ? 
Uome  and  drink,  without  moneys  and  without  price. 
rhis  Cup  is  as  free  to  the  beggar  as  to  the  prince ;  as 
ree  to  the  poor  as  to  the  rich ;  as  free  to  murderers  as 
o  saints ;  as  free  to  the  worst  of  men  as  to  the  best  of 
nen.     Wonderful  truth ! 

7th.  It  is  a  vert/  beautiful  Cup.     It  is  \>e«AX\XSvfe^\q 
he  perfections  of  God.     These  are,  \i\a  ms»^o^-»^^^ 
wer,  bis  holiness,  his  justice,  his  \o^e,  au^V^^^^^'^* 


88  BERHOK. 

These  are  glorious  perfections.     And  they  all  add  to 
the  beauty  of  this  beautiful  Cup. 

I  see  some  beautiful  figures  or  pictures  on  this  Cup. 
There  are  many  silver  and  gold  cups  with  flowers  and 
figures  upon  the  outside,  and  around  the  mouth,  which 
add  greatly  to  their  beauty.  But,  what  do  I  see  on 
this  beautiful  Cup  ?  I  see  the  figure  of  a  Lamb.  That 
is  the  emblem  of  Jesus,  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  w«8 
slain  for  us.  I  see  the  figure  of  a  Dove.  That  is  the 
emblem  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  descended  on  the  head 
of  Jesus  at  his  baptism,  in  the  form  of  a  dove.  I  see  a 
lily.  That  is  the  emblem  of  the  Church,  or  people  of 
Christ.  I  see  the  figure  of  the  rose  of  Sharon,  and 
of  the  apple-tree.  These  are  the  emblems  of  Jesus. 
Oh,  what  a  lovely  cup  is  the  Cup  of  Salvation !  Beloved 
young  friends,  drink  of  this  lovely  Cup ! 

8th.  This  Cup  has  remarkable  inscriptions.  Many 
costly  silver  cups  are  given  in  presents,  and  as  marks 
of  friendship  and  esteem.  All  these  cups  have  inscrip- 
tions. These  inscriptions  show  to  whom,  by  whom, 
and  for  what  reason,  these  costly  cups  were  given. 
Look  at  some  of  the  inscriptions  on  the  Cup  of  Salva- 
tion. I  mention  four.  First :  "  God  is  love."  1  John 
iv.  8 ,  Second  inscription :  "  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  be- 
lieveth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life."  John  iii.  16.  Third  inscription:  "This  is  a 
faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners." 
1  Tim.  i.  15.  Fourth  inscription :  "  The  Spirit  and  the 
bride  say,  Come.  And  let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come. 
And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come.  And  whosoever  will, 
let  him  take  the  water  of  life  freely."  Rev.  xxii.  17. 
Young  friends,  can  you  read  these  loving  inscriptions, 
and  refuse  to  drink  this  precious  Cup  ?  May  Divine 
grace  employ  them  m  ^^t^w^diiv^  you  now  to  drink  of 
the  Cup  of  Salvation  \ 

9th.    This  Cup  >n\\\  W\.  W  ^^^-^^  J5:'^^^'^\t, 
everJastiDg  Salvaiioti.    -^xxx\^v^^\^\^^V.  ^^^^ 


SERMON.  39 

the  Lord  with  an  everlasting  salvation,"  Isa.  xlv.  17. 
This  cup  is  filled  with  joy,  which  is  "  everlasting  joy," 
Isa.  JLXxy,  10.  It  is  filled  with  pleasures,  but  **  plea- 
sures for  evermore,"  Psal.  xvi.  11.  The  cup  of  carnal 
pleasure  shall  soon  cease.  The  cup  of  the  drunkard 
shall  soon  be  no  more.  But  the  Cup  of  Salvation 
shall  continue  to  fill  the  minds  of  the  inhabitants  of 
heaven  with  blessedneas,  felicity,  and  joy,  for  ever  and 
fiver. 

"  There  everlasting  spring  abides, 
And  never-withering  flowers ; 
Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 
This  heavenly  land  from  ours." 

Watts. 

I  now  proceed  to  mention  some  persons  spoken  of  in 
Scripture,  who  drank  this  precious  Cup.  Oh,  may  you, 
my  young  friends,  be  taught  to  follow  their  good  ex- 
ample I  First,  I  shall  mention  some  who  were  very 
wicked;  and  secondly,  some  who  were  very  young. 

First,  I  shall  mention  some  who  were  very  wicked, 
who  drank  of  this  cup. 

1st.  King  Manassek  was  very  wicked.  He  was  a 
shocking  idolater,  and  a  most  cruel  murderer.  He  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  cast  into  a  dungeon  in  Babylon. 
2  Chron.  xxxiii.  11.  Grod  met  with  him  in  the  dun- 
geon. He  cried  to  God  for  mercy.  His  prayer  was 
heard.  The  Cup  of  Salvation  was  presented  to  him. 
He  took  it,  and  drank  it.  Oh,  what  a  trophy  of  rege- 
nerating and  redeeming  grace !   2  Chron.  xxxiii.  12 — 

16. 

2d.  Mary  Magdalene  was  very  wicked.  Unclean- 
ness  was  her  reigning  sin.  On  one  occasion,  she  heard 
our  Saviour  preach.  She  was  convinced.  She  was 
converted.  Jesus  by  his  power  expelled  from  her 
heart  seven  unclean  spirits.  Oh,  what  a  change !  The 
Cup  of  Salvation  was  presented;  she  put  it  to  her  lips. 
She  drnnk  with  thankfulness,  joy,  and  i^x«L\&ft«  '^&S5C!?«.. 
jrr/.  9;  Luke  viiL  2, 
3d,   The  thief  on  the  cross  was  vexy  \V\^^^«     ^^. 


40  SERMON. 

was  nailed  to  the  cross  because  of  his  wickedness  and 
crimes.  In  the  agonies  of  death  he  cried  to  Jesus  for 
mercy.  Jesus  heard  his  penitential  prayer.  Jesus 
presented  the  Cup  of  Salvation  to  the  dying  penitent. 
He  put  it  to  his  parched,  quivering,  thirsty  lips.  With 
ecstasies  of  joy  he  drank  the  Cup.  He  is  now  in  the 
paradise  of  the  blessed. 

4th.  Chrisfs  murderers^  who  not  only  consented  to 
the  Saviour's  death,  but  who  nailed  him  to  the  cross, 
were  very  wicked.  Some  of  them  heard  Peter  preach 
on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  in  the  temple.  They  were 
cut  to  the  heart !  They  cried  out,  in  the  midst  of  the 
faithful  sermon,  '*  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we 
do?"  Peter  preached  salvation  to  them  through  the 
very  death  of  the  Saviour  they  murdered.  How 
astonishing !  By  grace,  they  believed.  The  Cup  of 
Salvation  was  presented.  They  received  it.  They 
drank  of  it,  and  were  saved.  Oh,  what  grace^  what  j 
wondrous  grace !  ! 

5th.  Saul  of  Tarsus  was  very  wicked.  When  the 
cruel  Jews  were  stoning  the  holy  Stephen  to  death, 
Saul  was  present  watching  the  garments  of  the  mur- 
derers. Acts  vii.  68.  He  assisted  in  dragging  men  and 
women  to  prison,  and  rejoiced  when  the  followers  of 
Jesus  were  put  to  death.  He  was  sent  to  Damascus 
with  a  commission  of  death  in  his  bosom,  against  all 
who  professed  Christ.  But  under  the  walls  of  Damas- 
cus, and  before  he  entered  the  city,  Jesus  spoke  to  him 
with  a  voice  from  heaven.  Conviction  reached  hifl 
conscience.  Conversion  reached  his  heart.  The  Cup 
of  Salvation  was  put  into  his  hand.  He  drank  it  The 
persecutor  became  a  preacher  of  Christ  The  child  of 
Satan  became  a  son  of  God.  Acts  ix.  6.  Oh,  what  a 
prodigy  of  grace ! 

Secondly,  some  very  young  persons  who  drank  this 
Cup  are  mentioned  in  Scripture. 

1st.  Ahel  was  most  'pToXi^iXA^  QlV>ciYakXL\wsJw5t«  AAer 
*our  first  parents,  be  Yia^  tVe  ^t^\.  ^awv-^^sx.  ^^^^^ 
piety,  he  was  the  first  mwt^x.    l^^i^^Vj  vV^\^\^^ 


8ERM0K.  41 

his  brother  Cain  ;  and  he  was  the  first  saint  that 
entered  heaven. 

2d.  Joseph,  when  he  was  a  child,  drank  of  this 
cup.  He  was  the  most  pious  of  Jacob's  sons.  Jacob 
loved  him  more  than  all  his  sons;  for,  amidst  them  all, 
his  youthful  piety  shone  forth  with  peculiar  bright- 
ness.   ^ 

:  3d.  Samuel  when  a  child  drank  the  Cup  of  Sal- 
vation. 1  Sam.  iii.  1,  &c.  When  he  was  yet  a  child 
he  ministered  unto  the  Lord  before  Eli  the  high 
priest.  Great  was  the  delight  which  Hannah  the  pious 
mother  had  in  Samuel  her  pious  child.  Every  year 
)he  made  a  little  coat  for  him  with  her  own  hands,  and 
[>rought  it  up  to  him  every  year,  when  she  came  up  to 
he  yearly  sacrifice.  1  Sam.  ii.  19. 

4th.  Ohadiah,  when  he  was  a  youth,  drank  the  Cup 
>f  Salvation.  1  Kings  xviii.  12.  This  good  man  said 
:o  Elijah,  with  much  humility  and  thankfulness,  "  But 
[  thy  servant  fear  the  Lord  from  my  youth  up,"  When 
le  became  a  man,  his  piety  shone  like  a  sun.  He 
)aved  the  lives  of  a  hundred  prophets  from  the  mur- 
lering  hands  of  Queen  Jezebel. 

5tb.  King  Josiah,  when  he  was  a  child,  drank  the 
ZJup  of  Salvation.  What  an  interesting  account  is 
riven  of  the  early  piety  of  this  lovely,  holy  prince,  in 
I  Kings  xxii. 

6th.  Timothy,  when  he  was  a  child,  drank  of  this 
3up  of  Salvation.  My  young  friends,  how  blessed, 
low  honoured  you  would  be,  if  we  could  say  of  you 
¥hat  was  said  of  Timothy,  (2  Tim.  iii.  15),  "  From  a 
;hild  thou  hast  known  the  Holy  Scriptures,  which  are 
ible  to  make  thee  wise  unto  salvation,  through  faith 
vhich  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  What  a  comfort  Timothy 
vas  to  his  grandmother  Lois  and  his  mother  Eunice ! 

CONCLUSION. 

Allow  me,  in  the  name  of  Christ,  eaxiies.^'^  ^xA 
ffectionatelf  to  call  upon  you  to  take^  ^vA  drmk  ^^ 
jp  of  Salvation,     But  what  is  it  "  to  tafce,  «av^  drink 


42  SERMON. 

the  Cup  of  Salvation  ?"  It  is  to  receive  Christ  as 
your  Saviour.  Beloved  young  friends,  when  you  can 
say  with  the  heart  and  in  faith,  "  Blessed  Jesus,  I  re- 
ceive thee  as  my  Saviour,  As  my  Prophet  I  receiye 
thee,  to  give  me  wisdom.  As  my  Priest  I  receive 
thee,  to  take  away  my  guilt  and  intercede  for  me.  I 
receive  thee  as  my  King,  to  reign  over  me  and  to 
deliver  me  from  all  my  enemies."  When  you  can  say 
this  with  the  heart,  you  have  taken  the  Cup  of  Salva- 
tion, and  have  drank  its  refreshing  waters. 

Believe  it,  and  may  the  Holy  Spirit  enable  you  to 
believe  it  I  Jesus,  who  died  on  Calvary  to  prepare  the 
Cup  of  Salvation,  calls  upon  you,  earnestly  invites  you, 
to  drink  of  the  Cup  of  Salvation.  He  says  to  you,  in 
language  the  most  affectionate— oh,  hear  his  voice- 
He  says,  "  Drink  abundantly,  O  beloved  !  **  He  is  the 
Fountain  from  which  the  cup  is  filled,  and  he  says  to 
every  little  child — 

1. 

"  Ho  ye  that  thirst,  approach  the  Spring 
Where  living  waters  flow ; 
Free  to  that  sacred  Fountain  all 
Without  a  price  may  go. 

2. 

"  Seek  ye  the  Lord,  while  yet  his  ear 
Is  open  to  your  call ; 
While  offered  mercy  still  is  near. 
Before  his  footstool  fall." 


AMEN. 


LINES 

Suggested  on  hearing  Uie  Sermon  on  the  Cup  of  Salvation. 

Lord,  write  thy  Gospel  on  my  heart. 
In  all  its  blessings  give  me  part ; 
And  when  in  heaven  I  see  thy  face, 
V\\  ft\ng,  Ym  «a.Nft^>a^  Qt«s^\  ^cwse. 

Till  time  au^  ^<i«k\>a. «»  v«^^«^'^xs^« 


EXCELLENCES  OP  THE  BIBLE, 

ALPHABETIOALLT  ABBAN6ED,  AND  BEGINNING  WITH  THE  LETTER  D. 

(Continued  from  Vol,  I,  p,  187.) 

Delight  is  a  name  which  every  pious  child  most  readily  gives 
to  the  Word  of  God.  Why  does  he  call  it  his  delight  1  Because 
it  gives  him  delight,  great  delight ;  delight  which  will  attend 
him  all  his  life;  and  delight  which  will  accompany  him  to 
heaven,  and  endure  for  ever.  He  can  say  with  the  Psalmist, 
Psali  cxix.  24,  **  Thy  testimonies  also  are  my  delight  and  my 
Goonsellors."  Yer.  77,  "  Let  thy  tender  mercies  come  unto  me, 
that  I  may  live;  for  thy  law  is  my  delight."  Ver.  174,  "  I  have 
longed  for  thy  salvation,  0  Lord ;  and  thy  law  is  my  delight." 
Many  of  God's  beloved  children  have  sung  with  the  heart  the 
following  lines : — 

"  Had  not  thy  Word  been  my  delight. 
When  earthly  joys  were  fled. 
My  soul,  oppress'd  with  sorrow's  weight, 
Had  sunk  among  the  dead." 

Deliveber. — Oh,  how  worthy  the  Bible  is  of  this  name  I  As 
an  instrument  in  the  hand  of  God  the  Spirit,  what  multitudes  the 
Bible  has  delivered  from  sin,  from  Satan,  from  the  world,  from 
unholy  company,  from  vile  lusts,  from  hateful  temptations,  and 
finally  from  hell.  Dear  children,  may  you  read,  and  love,  and  be- 
lieve, and  feel,  and  enjoy  the  Word  of  God,  and  it  will  prove  to 
you  a  mighty  deliverer.  Of  many  books  it  may  be  justly  said, 
"  They  are  the  murderers  of  souls ;"  but  with  truth  it  may  be 
said  of  this,  "  It  is  the  deliverer  of  souls." 

Dwelling. — If  we  compare  the  Word  of  God  to  a  dwelling,  it 
is  a  house  of  immense  magnitude.    There  the  holy  pious  child 
receives  the  most  delightful  accommodation.    There,  he  is  fed 
on  the  richest,  most  wholesome,  most  delicious,  and  most  nourish- 
ing provision.    There  he  enjoys  fellowship  with  his  Saviour  and 
his  God.    There  he  finds  protection  from  numerous  storms,  and 
defence  from  numerous  foes.    And  what  a  wonderful  dwelUng 
the  holy  child  finds  this  Bible  to  be,  when  enlightened  by  the 
bright  beams  of  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit.    Without  this 
light,  th«  glories  of  this  dwelling  are  unknown.   With  this  divine 
light,  they  shine  forth  in  all  their  loveliness,  and  in  all  theix 
influence    Ab  the  glory  of  the  ancient  tempVe  'w^j^  ^^«iv  Vj  ^^ 
sbining  of  the  golden  candlesticks,  so  tlie  gVory  ol  ^V\a  «^vcvHja»^ 
dwelling-place  is  seen  by  the  shining  of  tVie  iiAucafifc^i  o\  >3Dfc 
Holy  Spirit     Young  /Hends,  may  you  de\igVi\.  \«  TasJsft  ^^^ 


44  INSTINCTS  OF  ANIMALS. 

Bible  your  dwellingplace !  May  yon  say,  Psal.  cxzxii.  14, "  This 
is  my  rest ;  here  will  I  dwell,  for  I  haYC  desired  it."  Then  let 
us  sing  with  the  heart : 

"  I  love  the  Yolume  of  thy  word ; 
What  light  and  joy  those  leaves  afford. 

To  souls  benighted  and  distress'd  ! 
Thy  precepts  guide  my  doubtful  way. 
Thy  fear  forbids  my  feet  to  stray. 
Thy  promise  leads  my  heart  to  rest." 
{To  be  continued.) 


INSTINCTS  OF  ANIMALS. 

These  wonderfully  illustrate  the  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness 
of  God.  What  are  the  instincts  of  inferior  irrational  creatures— 
of  birds,  and  beasts,  and  fishes,  and  creeping-things,  and  insects] 
We  answer,  Those  lessons  which  God  teaches  them,  and  which 
are  necessary  for  their  sustenance,  their  protection,  their  happi* 
ness,  and  their  continuance  in  succeeding  races  and  generations. 
Who  teaches  the  sparrows  to  build  their  nest  1  Gk>d.  Ps.  Ixxziv.  3, 
"  Yea,  the  sparrow  hath  found  an  house,  and  the  swidlow  a  nest 
for  herself,  where  she  may  lay  her  young."  The  stork,  the  crane, 
and  the  swallow  are  migratory  birds,  and  when  the  season  of 
winter  draws  near,  they  move  off  to  warm  southern  regions. 
And  who  taught  these  birds  this  lesson,  without  which  l^eir 
whole  races  would  soon  become  extinct  1  God.  Jer.  viiL  7, 
"  Yea,  the  stork  in  the  heaven  knoweth  her  appointed  times; 
and  the  turtle  and  the  crane  and  the  swallow  observe  the  time 
of  their  coming."  In  reading  the  following  short  account,  may 
your  heart  be  filled  with  the  admiration  of  Gk>d,  who  taketh 
under  his  care,  and  condescends  to  be  the  Teacher  of  the  meanest 
of  his  creatures ! 

The  young  bee,  on  the  day  that  it  first  leaves  the  cell,  without 
teaching  and  without  experience,  begins  to  collect  honey,  fbnn 
wax,  and  build  up  its  hexagonal  *  cell,  according  to  the  fonn 
which  its  progenitors  have  used  from  the  earliest  genentiona 
Birds  build  nests  of  a  certain  structure  after  their  kinds,  and 
many  species  at  certain  seasons,  excited  by  some  internal  im- 
pulse, take  their  migratory  flights  to  other  countries.  The 
insect,  which  never  experienced  a  parentis  care  or  a  mother's 
example,  labours  assiduously  and  effectively  for  the  future  de- 
velopment and  sustenance  of  an  ofispring  which  it,  in  its  turn, 
is  doomed  never  to  behold.  Others  toil  all  summer,  and  lay  op 
stores  for  winter,  without  ever  having  experienced  the  severi^ 
of  Buch  a  season,  or  V)emg  Va  M^y  «en&lble  way  aware  of  its 
approaxih.  A  common  qnaW  "waa  V^^X.  \xi  %  caisgik,  «A  Vmoune 
quite  tamed  and  reconci\ed  \^  \\ft  ^oQ^*    ^'<»  ^^  ^wctfA  ^'**' 

*  Hexagonal,  mea»a"^^«^^«^** 


JONAH  AND  JESUS.  45 

migration  it  became  exceedingly  restless;  it  beat  its 
kinst  the  cage  in  many  efforts  to  escape ;  and,  on  exami- 
ts  skin  was  found  several  degrees  above  its  usual  tem- 
We  often  observe  a  dog,  when  going  to  sleep  on  the 
n  himself  several  times  round  before  he  lies  down,  and 
ist  one  of  the  lingering  instincts  which  he  has  retained  ; 
his  wild  state,  he  is  accustomed  thus  to  prepare  his  bed 
3  tall  grass  or  rushes. 

»ung  Mends,  unite  with  me  in  the  following  exclamation 
)ly  Psalmist,  Ps.  civ.  24,  "  0  Lord,  how  manifold  are  thy 
in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all ! " 


JONAH  AND  JESUS. 

Hnts  for  Little  Children  on  Matt.  xii.  41. — "  The  men 
neveh  shall  rise  in  judgment  vrith  this  generation^  and 
condemn  it:  because  they  repented  at  ^e  preaching  of 
;  and,  behold,  a  greai>er  than  Joiias  is  here," 

)le  is  a  book  of  sublime  comparisons,  elevating  ideas, 
Lg  principles,  exalted  and  illustrious  achievements.  Its 
sons  show  the  difference  between  evil  and  good,  darkness 
t,  holiness  and  sinfulness,  righteousness  and  depravity, 
Ls  of  God  and  the  works  of  men.  The  above  verse  presents 
brcible  illustration  of  this  fact,  and  shows  the  infinite 
Lty  of  the  teaching  of  Him  who  taught  as  man  never 
>r  ever  could  teach ;  and  it  opens  up  to  the  mind  three 
of  instruction,  which,  by  the  powerful  teaching  of  Qod's 
nay  savingly  affect  the  soul:  Jirst,  two  preachers  are 
secondly,  two  sermons  preached ;  and  thirdly,  two  con- 
»ns  assembled ;  and  the  effects  produced  on  them. 
The  two  preachers.  They  were  Jonah  and  the  Lord 
irist;  the  one  a  man,  the  other  the  glorious  God  and 
diator:  the  one  was  the  fugitive  prophet,  who  went 
Joppa  and  shipped  himself  for  Tarshish,  to  avoid  de- 
God's  message  to  the  Ninevites ;  the  other  came  on  the 
'  love,  yearning  over  the  miseries  of  our  lost  nature,  and 
to  proclaim  to  the  perishing  and  rebellious  multitudes 
isage  of  mercy  and  grace :  the  one  was  Jonah,  and  the 
sus. 

dly.  The  two  sermons.    Jonah's  was  a  message  without 
,  without  one  promise  in  it ;  it  was  a  sermon  of  threat- 
•of  warning,   of  destruction,  and  of  vengeance.      The 
of  Jesus  were  full  of  love,  of  grace,  of  rich  promises,  of 
onsolation,  of  tender  rebuke,  of  heart-searching  and  soul- 
persuasion.    They  set  forth  man's  stsAie  «a  ^  «^\m«t,^^ 
of  a  Saviour;  the  riches  of  Divine  "Lov©  *,  VXv^  YSi%iv\N?QAft 
?  Mercy;  the  heights  and  deptViB  o?  a^iiNm^  ^c^<i^,  ^ 
r^om  the  eternal  mind  of  tlie  gre«A.  3e\iov«Xi,^'^^^«^ 


46  MISSIONS, 

the  interceBsion  of  a  crucified  Sayiour.  Jesus  is  well  called  the 
Fringe  of  Preachers. 

Thirdly.  The  two  congregations,  and  the  effects  produced  on 
them.  The  one  consisted  of  idolatrous  ignorant  pagans,  and 
the  other  of  educated  self-righteous  Jews,  possessed  of  the  orada 
of  (Jod,  and  rich  in  privileges.  The  one  heard  and  belieyed; 
the  other  heard  and  despised.  The  one  escaped  threatened  yefr 
geance ;  hut,  alas  !  the  other  perished  in  unbelief,  heaping  up  to 
themselves  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath. 

Dear  young  friends,  may  Qod  enable  you  to  accept  the  folloY< 
ing  invitation  of  love  1 

"  Come,  ye  children,  poor  and  wretched, 
Wea^L  and  wounded,  sick  and  sore  ! 
Jesus  ready  stands  to  save  you, 
Full  of  pity,  join'd  with  power ; 

He  is  able. 
He  is  willing ;  doubt  no  more." 


MISSIONS. 

SCOTTISH  MIBSIONABT  SOCIETY  07  THE  UNITED  PRESBTTEBIAH  CHUBCE. 

CALABAR  MISSIONS. 

The  Old  Calabar  mission  is  a  stupendous  enterprise,  as  it  siai 
be  said  to  be  the  first  station  in  a  heathen  country  peopled  by 
numerous  millions.  It  is  the  door  of  entrance  to  the  wt^  iier- 
tile,  and  thickly-inhabited  regions  drained  by  the  waters  of  the 
Niger,  the  Schadda,  and  the  Cross  rivers.  Till  recent  times,  but 
little  comparatively  was  known  of  this  part  of  G^itral  AMca-' 
the  land  of  the  negroes,  the  most  important  and  interestisg  p<v> 
tion  of  that  great  continent ;  but  the  travels  of  Mungo  Fuk, 
Clapperton,  and  the  Landers,  and  the  various  expeditions  that 
have  been  sent  up  the  Niger,  the  Schadda,  and  the  Cross  riven^ 
have  to  a  certain  extent  unfolded  it  to  the  knowledge  of  Euro* 
peans.  When  we  ascend  beyond  the  tribes  living  on  the  ooast, 
who  are  debased  and  brutalised  by  the  slare  trade,  we  find  not 
only  more  interesting  and  healthy  countries,  but  a  population 
somewhat  advanced  in  the  arts  of  civilised  life,  and  with  whom 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  a  great  and  profitable  commeree 
will  yet  be  carried  on.  There  are  in  those  extensiye  distrieta 
unwrought  but  ample  materials,  which  the  merchant,  the  s^ool- 
master,  and  the  missionary  are  yet  to  turn  to  noble  poipoeee. 
From  thirty  to  fifty  millions  of  people,  with  good  talents  and 
disposed  to  industry,  inhabiting  a  land  rich  in  the  varied  boun- 
ties of  the  beneficent  Creator,  are  yet  to  be  influenced  by  Euro- 
pean merchandise,  ciy*i\V%al\o\i,  viiii  ^co^i^oti..  To  lift  this  people 
to  their  due  place  aiuong  \^i«  -uAXXfii'^  V)Da^>  -^r^iS^  vB^^^it\&iQit 
of  the  Gospel,  will  be  ^Vie  gmv^e«X.  jifcV\«^«^^^ 
aent  benevolence.     Til^e  Tsmi^,  wi^sas^^  M  SJi««fe  t«*«^^ 


MISSIONS.  47 

mercy  and  love  which  the  Bible  holds  out  to  the  children  of 
Africa — notices  which  tell  us  that  the  despised  negro  race  shall 
soon  stretch  out  their  hands  to  God  in  confiding  trusts  that 
they  shall  be  numbered  among  his  living  and  favoured  sons,  and 
that  from  the  most  distant  and  hitherto  unexplored  parts  of  that 
continent  God's  suppliants  shall  come,  bringing  his  offering — 
dwells  in  fond,  earnest,  and  yearning  contemplation  over  those 
fine  regions,  now  filled  with  spiritual  darkness,  cruel  supersti- 
tions, and  bloody  customs ;  "  desolate  heritages," — but  still  a  part 
of  Christ's  promised  kingdom,  a  land  on  which  light,  mercy,  and 
love  shall  yet  rest,  and  which,  throughout  all  its  broad  plains, 
along  its  mighty  rivers,  and  up  its  green  mountain-sides,  shidl 
re-echo  with  the  glad  songs  of  salvation  and  of  praise. 

Now,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  to  these  regions,  so  full  of 
interest  and  of  hope,  containing  the  elements  of  prosperous  king- 
doms and  of  multitudes  of  Christian  churches,  Old  Calabar  is 
the  natural  entrance.  The  great  desert  on  the  north,  the  lofty 
chain  of  mountains  on  the  east,  the  Kong  ridge  and  the  pesti- 
lential Delta  on  the  west,  and  the  Cameroon  mountains  and  the 
absence  of  navigable  rivers  on  the  south,  forbid  frequent  inter- 
course. But  the  open  Calabar  firth,  navigable  at  aU  seasons  for 
ships  of  any  burden — the  fact  that  the  Cross  river  is  within  forty 
miles  of  the  Schadda,  and  the  high  grounds  at  no  great  distance 
from  Old  Calabar,  offering  a  salubrious  residence, — all  combine 
in  pointing  out  Old  Calabar  as  the  door  by  which  white  men 
should  enter  Central  Africa,  in  order  to  spread  there  the  benefits 
of  knowledge  and  Christianity.  This  is  an  advantage  which  our 
missionaries  did  not  foresee.  The  Lord  led  them  in  a  way  that 
they  knew  not,  and  conducted  them  to  the  spot  which  recent  infor- 
mation assures  us  is  the  best  that  could  have  been  chosen  along 
the  whole  coast,  as  the  place  where  a  mission  destined  to  evan- 
gelize Central  Africa  should  land  and  erect  its  first  station. 
This  view  invests  our  mission  with  a  peculiar  interest,  and  with 
a  momentous  responsibility.  We  have  taken  possession  of  this 
entrance — this  key  of  the  interior,  and  we  must  be  prepared  for 
the  results.  Vast  multitudes  are  waiting  beyond  Old  Calabar 
for  the  Gospel.  Already  an  urgent  cry,  thrice  repeated,  has 
come  to  us  from  Bonny,  asking  teachers  and  missionaries ;  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  calls  from  other  places  will,  ere 
long,  be  many,  earnest,  and  imploring.  The  mission  is  great  in 
itself;  but  in  its  consequences  it  is  immense.  Should  our  mis- 
sionaries be  sustained  in  health,  should  the  cause  be  firmly 
established  in  Old  Calabar,  and  should  well-educated  native 
converts,  fit  for  acting  the  part  of  missionaries,  be  raised  up 
there,  those  who  have  contributed  to  the  mission  ship  may  ^^^ 
be  delighted  to  hear  that  those  regions  ot  'w\i\cYi'?i^\k&N^  ^--^oL^ti^ 
J20W  the  most  destitute  in  the  world,  liavft  Yk%A.  VJbkfe  QsQ«^^ 

preached  to  them,  and  that  their  inhabitanta  \i«tNfe  Xaxxii^^  ^x«». 

%JJ  their  BaperstiUonB  to  serve  the  living  audtYie  ttwa  <^^- 


48  LINES  ON  HEARING  A  PASSING-BELL. 

LINES 
Penned  on  hearing  the  Pamng-BeU  toll  for  an  Infant. 

Dear  little  creature  1  thou  hast  fled 
Far  from  our  aching,  groaning  sight ; — 

The  mother's  tears  are  now  in  vain, — 
The  beauteous  bud  is  struck  with  blight 

The  gaze  of  love  no  more  thou'lt  see. 
Nor  hear  the  words,  so' sweet,  so  mild, 

Flowing  from  a  mother's  fondness. 
When  she  beheld  her  darling  boy — 
Her  first-bom,  lovely,  cherub  child  I 

Dear  little  creature  !  thou  art  now 

Cold  and  stiff; — ^thy  beauteous  head 
Is  void  of  life  and  warmth — ^thy  frame 

Lies  motionless  on  snow-white  bed, 
Which  mother  spread  for  thee : — how  changed 

The  virgin,  sweetly-budding  flower. 
Which  seem'd  so  fair — so  fresh — so  bright — 

Within  the  compass  of  an  hour ! 

Dear  little  creature !  thou  hast  gone 

Where  we^  and  all,  expect  to  go. 
When,  resting  in  the  narrow  house. 

We  flee  from  worlds  of  sin  and  woe. 
With  Jesus  now  thoult  ever  dwell, 

In  regions  of  unclouded  light. 
Beaming  like  a  beauteous  star. 

And  shining  always  clear  and  bright. 

Dear  little  creature  !  thee  we'll  take 

Down  to  the  realm  of  death  with  smiles, 
Thinking  how  vast  the  sum  of  woe 

Thou*Bt  *scaped,  and  all  the  serpent  wiles. 
And  while  we  feel,  when  thy  sweet  frame 

With  clayey  earth  is  cover'd  o'er. 
Still,  we  will  not  despairing  cry. 

But  go  and  try  to  weep  no  more. 

Dear  little  creature  !  oft  we'll  seek 

Thy  quiet,  sunny,  resting  ground ; 
And  flowers  of  every  form  and  hue. 

Well  plant  above  the  little  mound ; 
And  then  we'll  think,  when  so  employ'd. 

Or  slowly  aa  to  \ioiive  ^^  %o. 
How  soon  our  aVeep  «\i8X\.\iiVC«A\>Ks\i^, 

How  Boou  our  Yi^^iidB  TDka.^  \\a  ^\q^. 


SACHED  BOTANY. 


The  name  given  in  the  S&cred  Volume  to  this  most 
iluable  and  nutritious  description  of  «iti\,  \a  TMSr\, 
"Jkeiek.)     This  name  eignifiea  to  jiusJi  Jorth.    V^-  ^* 
'ea  on  account  of  the  great  number  o?  \te  avexn*  % 

more  eapedalfy-  because  of  tlie  very  gr«a.\.  a\wa^Kt 


50  SACRED   BOTANT. 

of  grains  produced  by  each  seed.  The  remarks  of  Pliny, 
a  heathen  naturalist,  on  this  seed,  are  truly  striking, 
and  even  worthy  of  one  who  possesses,  knows,  and 
believes  in  Divine  Revelation.  He  says, — "  Nothing 
is  more  fertile  than  wheat.  Nature  {that  is  Ood),  has 
given  it  this  quality,  because  by  it  chiefly  she  feeds 
mankind  ;  for,  from  one  bushel,  if  the  soil  be  suitable, 
as  in  Byzacium,  a  country  of  Africa,,  a.  hundred  and 
fifty  bushels  will  be  returned." 

As  some  of  my  youthful  readers  may  be  students  of 
Botany,  the  following  description  of  wheat  may  be 
acceptable.  It  is  a  genus  of  plants  of  the  class  tri- 
andriay  and  order  di-gynicu  In  the  natural  system,  it 
ranges  under  the  fourth  order  gramina.  The  caljx 
is  bi-valve,  and  generally  contains  three  florets.  The 
corolla  also  is  bi-valve,  one  valve  being  bluntisb,  and 
the  other  acute.  Of  this  most  remarkable,  nutritious, 
hardy,  and  useful  plant,  there  are  no  less  than  nine- 
teen species. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  observe,  and  contemplate 
the  peculiaritiJ^  of  this  grain.  It  is  that  on  which 
human  beings  depend  for  sustenance  in.  almost  all  the 
civilized  portions  of  the  globe.  Its. prolific  qualities 
are  most  powerful  and  abundant.  Mbre  than  any 
other  grain  does  it  possess  farinaceous  richness.  It 
grows  luxuriUntly  in  a  great  variety  of  climates  ;  and 
it  can  withstand,  to  an  astonishing  degree^  the  most 
violent  and  piercing  cold  of  winter.  When  we  think 
of  these  valuable  peculiarities,  we  may  say  in  tlie  lan- 
guage of  the  prophet,  Zech.  ix.  17  :  "  O  Lord,  how 
great  is  thy  goodness !  corn  shall  make  the  young  men 
cheerful,  and  new  wine  the  maids." 

Let  us  now  notice  the  figurative  and  spiritual  nee 

made  of  wheat  in  the  word  of  God.     Jesus  is  called 

a  Corn  of  Wheat.     Why  ?    Because   of  those  rich, 

nourishing,  and  lasting  blessings,  of  which  he  is  the 

author.      And   also,  Y^^Gwasfc  oi  ^^   Sx\i\\.^MLvk6is8  of 

his   gospel  when   accomi^wvv^^  X^l  ^^^  ^w*set  ^V>s«^ 

^irit.      Johnxii.  24,  "Yex\^l,N^^VJA^M>^^^^ 


WHEAT,  51 

Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die, 
it  abideth  alone  :  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much 
fruit."  Here  our  Saviour  evidently  alludes  to  him- 
self, to  his  death,  and  to  the  rich  blessings  of  salvation, 
the  glorious  fruits  of  his  death  and  atonement.  Saints 
are  compared  to  wheat.  Why  ?  Because  of  their  use- 
fulness, and  their  fruitfulness  in  good  works.  Matt, 
iii.  12.  *'  He  will  thoroughly  purge  his  floor,  and 
gather  his  wheat  into  his  garner."  The  word  is 
likened  unto  wheats  because  it  is  the  rich  and  nourish- 
ing food  of  believing  souls.  Jer.  xxiii.  28.  '*  He  that 
Hath  my  word,  let  him  speak  my  word  faithfully^ 
What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  ?  saith  the  Lord*" 
Those  who  hear,  believe,  and  enjoy  the  gospel  purely 
dispensed,  are  fed  upon  the  finest  of  tlie  wheat,  Ps. 
Ixxxi.  16. 

In  conclusion,  we  may  observe,  that  the  inspired 
Apostle  employs  wheat  in  its  sowing,  its  death,  its 
vegetation,  and  its  fruitfulness,  as  illustrative  of  the 
blessed  resurrection  of  the  bodies  of  the  saints  at  the 
last  day.  1  Cor.  xv.  35  — 38,  42— 44.  "But  some  man 
will  say.  How  are  the  dead  raised  up  ?  and  with  what 
body  do  they  come  ?  Thou  fool,  that  which  tliou 
sowest  is  not  quickened,  except  it  die :  and  that 
which  thou  sowest,  thou  sowest  not  that  body  which 
shall  be,  but  bare  grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat,  or 
of  some  other  grain :  but  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it 
liath  pleased  him,  and  to  every  seed  his  own  body.  It 
is  sown  in  corruption  ;  it  is  raised  in  incorruption :  it 
is  sown  in  dishonour  ;  it  is  raised  in  glory :  it  is  sown 
a  natural  body  ;  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body." 

May  the  Holy  Spirit  teach  us  in  faith,  to  give  utter- 
ance to  the  following  delightful  expressions  : — 

"  We  sing  his  lore  who  once  was  slaip. 
Who  soon  o*er  death  revived  again, 
That  all  his  saints  through  hiin  might  have 
Eternal  conqueata  o'er  the  grave. 
Ck^n-uA  Soon  shall  the  tnimpet  sound,  and  Tre 
Shall  rise  to  immortality  !  *' 


52 


SERMON  IV. 

GOD  IS   LOVE. 
"  God  18  love^^John  iv.  8. 


ti 


Beloved  young  friends,  this  sentence 
love,"  is  the  most  delightful  and  wonderful  the 
man  or  angels  ever  saw.  Search,  if  you  had  the 
all  the  books  in  the  universe,  and  such  another  s 
cannot  be  found.  It  consists  only  of  three  wore 
these  three  words  contain  more  than  the  bed 
ocean.  All  the  water  of  the  ocean  is  no  more 
dropy  when  compared  with  what  these  three  wo: 
tain,  "  God  is  love."  They  contain  the  bound! 
ness  of  Jehovah.  And  when  millions  of  yea 
ages,  and  centuries,  have  passed  away,  we  sha 
be  able  fully  to  comprehend  this  wonderful  8( 
♦'God  is  love." 

By  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  propose, 
make  some  general  observations  on  our  text  t 
your  wonder  ;  and  secondly,  show  wherein  ( 
pears  as  the  God  of  love,  namely,  in  Creation, 
dence,  and  Redemption. 

Before  I  enter  upon  this  sacred  and  delightf 
allow  me  to  present  the  following  prayer  to  tl 
Spirit  in  your  behalf.  Oh,  unite  with  me  whil 
sent  it  I 

"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  from  above, 
And  fill  these  children's  heart  with  love ; 
Soften  to  flesh  their  hearts  of  stone, 
And  let  the  God  of  love  be  known  ! " 

I.  I  now  proceed  to  make  some  general  obsei 
on  our  text,  to  excUe  yo\xt  yjotvdet. 

7  St.  If  you  Qompar©  Wvft  'fiWiX^v^^  ^^a^xok! 
of  jewels,  "  God  is  love^  V»  ^^^^  «^^^^  ^x^ww 


SERMON.  53 

hole  collection.     And  it  is  so  precious,  that  all 
changels  in  heaven  cannot  conceive  its  worth. 

If  you  compare  the  Bible  to  the  ,firmament, 
its  bright  and  glorious  stars,  "  God  is  love,"  is 
ightest  star  shining  in  the  firmament  of  the  word 
>d.  It  surpasses  all  the  rest  in  glory.  Behold  ! 
e  the  glorious  star. 

Suppose  a  company  of  angels  were  sent  down 
heaven,  to  appear  in  the  midst  of  us,  to  deliver 
lost  important  message  which  even  God  himself 
send  to  sinful  man  ;  what,  think  you,  would  this 
ge  be  ?  I  will  tell  you.  It  would  be  this,  "  God 
e  "  Oh,  what  a  message  from  a  Holy  God,  to  a 
world  !  and  from  a  just  God,  to  a  guilty  world  ! 
.  If  you  had  an  opportunity  of  asking  the  angels 
is  the  noblest,  the  sweetest,  the  loftiest  song  they 
1  heaven,  they  would  answer  thus  :  The  noblest, 
;st,  loftiest,  song  we  sing  in  heaven,  is  this — "  God 

,  A  host  of  angels  was  sent  from  heaven  to  tell 
imble  shepherds  of  the  birth  of  Christ.  When 
ielivered  the  tidings,  they  sung  a  lovely  song, 
was  the  subject  of  the  song  ?  It  was  the  love 
>d,  and  a  God  of  love.  It  was  this — **  Glory  to 
in  the  highest,  on  earth  peace,  and  good  will 
J  men."  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  song  ?  It 
— **  God  is  love."  It  was  on  a  most  loving  occa- 
he  angels  sung  this  song.  It  was  when  God 
a  most  marvellous  display  of  his  love.  When 
fant  Jesus  was  born — when  God  sent  forth  his 
lade  of  a  woman,  made  under  the  law,  the  angels 
;his  song.  Beloved  children,  was  it  not  amazing 
1  Jesus  to  become  a  little  babe,  a  little  child,  to 
ittle  children  ?  When  you  think  of  this,  may 
lel  a  desire  to  sing  the  same  song  which  the  dear 
gn  sung  when  they  followed  Jesus  \tvt\\^T«a!^^V.  \ 
nnna  to  the  son  of  David :   \)\ess»ed  \^  \v^  \\v%x 

in  the  name  of  the  Lord  •,  Hoa^xvxv^  Va.  xXn^ 
/"Matt.  xxi.  9. 


5^  .8EBM09. 

6th.  God  the  Father  is  love.  God  the  Son  is  love. 
God  the  Holy  Ghost  is  love.  These  three  Divine 
Persons  are  not  tliree  Gods.  They  are  Oke  God  ! 
And  of  these  three  JPersans  it  is  said  in  the  lingular 
number,  "  God  is  love."  But  there  is  a  peculiar  glory 
in  each  person  of  the  Divinity,  as  a  **  God  of  love." 
This  threefold  glory  forming  one  divine  glory,  fills 
heaven  with  brightness,  blessedness  and  peace. 

7th.  Young  friends,  my  affectionate  desire,  and  my 
earnest  prayer  is,  that  you  may  honour  God  as  the 
God  of  love,  and  that  you  may  be  taught  to  love  God 
as  the  God  of  love.  Allow  me  to  express  my  wish, 
and  to  utter  my  prayer  in  the  following  iines  : — 

"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  dove. 
With  all  thy  quick'ning  powers; 
Come  shed  abroad  a  Saviour  b  love^ 
And  that)  will  kindle  ours  !  *' 

II.  Let  us  now,  in  humble  dependence  upon  the 
Holy  Spirit,  show,  that  as  the  God  of  Creation,  the 
God  of  Providence,  and  the  God  of  Redemption,  he  is 
the  God  of  love.  Divine  love  shines  in  Creation; 
Divine  love  shines  in  providence.  But  Divine  love 
shines  with  greatest  brightness,  and  greatest  glory  in 
redemption. 

First,  in  creation,  "  God  is  love." 
1  St.  "  God  is  love"  if  you  look  upon  him  as  the  Creator 
of  angels.  God  made  angels  long  before  he  made  man. 
They  are  called  "  Morning  Stars,"  and  "  Sons  of  God," 
because  they  v^ere  first  created.  And  they  are  repre- 
sented as  singing  the  most  joyful  anthems  of  praise 
when  God  finished  the  creation  of  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  j  God  said  to  his  servant  Job,  xxxviiL  4,  7, 
"  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
earth?  When  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all 
the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy  ?" 

God  made  the  angels  in  immense  multitudes.     Mil- 
iions  o{  them  fell,  and  ^o\!lov^ft^  ^■a&sjwxi  >^ftfc  ^<5X«1.    But 
countless  millions  ot  Y\o\y  \iw^vi  ^^%^  ^"^^^  ^^ssasss. 
Stand  on  an  emimnce  atvdXooV  x^^tv  ^N^«fc.\QtJ&^^ 


SERMON.  56 

Yon  0ani3ot  connt  the  trees  of  that  great  forest.  Neither 
can  you  count  the  multitude  of  spotless,  happy  angels. 
Look  up  to  a  clear  sky  when  the  sun  is  set,  and  you 
aee  a  moltitude  of  ^ars  you  cannot  number.  Lift  up 
your  Byes  to  heaven,  and  you  behold  a  multitude  of 
angels  which  %o  man  can  number.  The  Apostle  calls 
them  "an  innumerable  company  of  angels."  Heb. 
xii.  22.  God  has  created  all  these  angels  perfectly 
holy^  perfectly  happy,  perfectly  glorious,  and  perfectly 
blessed.  He  infinitely  delights  in  their  holiness,  in 
their  happiness,  in  their  glory,  and  in  their  blessedness. 
Think  of  this,  and  then  exclaim  with  joyful  hearts, 
**Godislove  !" 

2d.  "  God  is  love,"  as  the  Creator  of  man.  "What 
does  the  Bible  say  of  the  creation  of  man  ?  Gen.  i.  37, 
"  God  created  man  in  his  own  image."  He  made 
man  like  to  himself  in  knowledge,  wisdom,  understand- 
ing, holiness,  and  happiness.  What  does  this  show  ? 
-what  does  this  prove  ?     That  "  God  is  love." 

God  made  man  lovely  in  Ids  body ;  and  not  only 
lov«ly  but  perfect.  He  made  him  so  perfect^  that  if  he 
had  never  -sinned  he  had  never  died.  His  body  was 
the  perfection  of  loveliness.  But,  oh,  how  loathsome 
has  sin  made  the  body  of  man  !  See  the  human  body 
covered  with  disease!  see  the  human  body  corrupting 
in  the  grave;  oh,  what  has  done  this?  Sin,  the 
enemy — sin,  the  murderer,  has  done  this  ! 

When  God  made  man,  while  his  body  was  the 
perfection  of  loveliness,  his  soul  was  the  pei*fection  of 
holiness.  What  renders  God  so  glorious  ?  It  is  his 
holiness;  '^  He  is  glorious  in  holiness."  Exod.  xv.  11. 
And  what  made  the  soul  of  man  in  his  creation  the 
perfection  of  loveliness  ?  It  was  the  perfect  holiness 
in  which  he  shone ;  yes,  shone,  brighter  than  the  bur- 
nished gold,  brighter  than  the  lustre  of  the  sky.  Thus, 
he  resembled  God.  As  thei*e  is  no  blackness  in  thi^ 
pure  snowy  so  there  was  no  blackh^sa  bl  ^vsv  Vcv  ^^ 
spiritually  snow-white,  spotless  soul  o?  Tf^arv.  K^  N>a.^ 
water  fowing  frpm    the    fountaia    \a    c\^«^^  -^WVowV 


56  S£BMON^ 

pollution,  so  the  soul  of  man  was  a  pure,  clean,  unpol- 
luted stream,  flowing  from  the  fountain  of  Jehovah. 
What  does  this  proclaim  ?     That  "  God  is  love." 

Such  was  the  love  of  God,  that  he  made  mAn  like 
to  himself  in  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  understanding. 
These  three,  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  understanding, 
are  the  light  of  the  soul.  Is  the  soul  a  temple  ?  Those 
are  the  divine  lights  which  filled  the  temple  with  glorious 
brightness.  Does  the  soul  resemble  the  lofty  and  ftf 
extended  firmament  ?  These  three  were  the  glorious 
luminaries,  kindled  by  the  breath  of  God,  which  filled 
the  firmament  of  the  mind  of  man  with  the  splendours 
of  divine  light.  What  does  this  proclaim  ?  That  "  God 
is  love." 

When  God  made  man,  he  made  him  male  and 
female.  His  happiness  could  not  have  been  complete 
if  he  had  been  made  alone^  and  if  he  had  remained 
alone.  Gen.  i.  27,  "  So  God  created  man  in  his 
own  image  :  male  and  female  created  he  them."  Eve 
was  also  the  perfection  of  loveliness,  of  wisdom,  and 
of  holiness.  In  addition  to  this,  God  placed  our  first 
parents  in  Eden,  the  roost  beautiful  spot  on  the  faee 
of  the  earth,  and  this  Eden  was  a  paradise  of  perfect 
bliss.  He  was  also  made  king  of  the  whole  earth. 
What  does  the  Psalmist  say  ?  Psal.  viiL  5,  6, 
'*  Thou  madest  man  a  little  lower  than  the  angels, 
and  crowned  him  with  glory  and  honour.  Thou 
madest  him  to  have  dominion  over  the  works  of  thy 
hands ;  thou  hast  put  all  things  under  his  feet :  iJl 
sheep  and  oxen,  yea,  and  the  beasts  of  the  field ;  the 
fowl  of  the  air,  and  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  whatsoever 
passeth  through  the  paths  of  the  seas.*'  What  does 
this  proclaim  ?     That  "  God  is  love.** 

To  crown  all,  God  allowed  man  to  enjoy  fellowship 

with  himself.     He  spoke  with  God  as  his  friend.    God 

conversed  with  him  as  his  Father  and  his  Creator. 

Ob,  what  blessedness  \    H^  «»wn  xJaa  ^^^  ^C  God ;  he 

heard  the  voice  of  Grod,     'Y\\\3i%,  V\^  XvK^^wjks^  ^^ 

complete.     His  soul  v^tsia  as  M\  ^^  ^^sx^^^.\i>i«s^«^'^ 


8BRM0N.  57 

ocean's  bed  is  full  of  water,  and  as  the  skj  is  full  of 

light  at  noon  day.     What  does  this  proclaim  ?     *'  God 

is  love." 

Secondly,  as  the  God  of  Providence,  "  God  is  love." 

What  is  the  Providence  of  God  ?      It  is  his  con- 

tinnal  care  and  management  of  his  creatures.     Thus 

the  Psalmist  speaks  and  sings  of  the  Providence  of 

God :  (PsaL  cxlv.  15,  16,)  "  The  eyes  of  all  wait  upon 

thee ;  and  thou  givest  them  their  meat  in  due  season. 

Thou  openest  thine  hand,  and  satisfiest  the  desire  of 

every  living  thing."      How  true  the  following  line3 :— ^ 

"  God  reigns  on  high,  but  not  confines 
His  goodness  to  the  skies ; 
Through  the  whole  earth  his  bounty  shines. 
And  every  want  supplies." 

My  young  friends,  the  Providence  of  God  gives  you 
six  things  in  particular.  God  gives  you,  as  the  God  of 
Providence,  food,  raiment,  health,  a  home,  friends,  and 
instructors.  Does  the  Providence  of  God  give  you  all 
these  ?  Then,  how  clear,  how  evident,  "  God  is  love." 
There  are  six  streams,  and  they  all  flow  from  one 
fountain.  And  th:it  fountain  is  the  love  of  God. 
What  a  fountain  !  It  flows  abundantly,  it  flows  freely, 
it  flows  for  ever. 

1st.  God  gives  you  your  daili/  bread.  You  cannot 
live  v\rithout  food.  Without  food  you  can  neither 
possess  health,  nor  strength,  nor  comfort.  Without 
food  your  eyes  would  soon  close  in  death.  For  the 
purpose  of  possessing  and  enjoying  all  these  blessings, 
God  covers  the  table  of  his  Providence  with  your 
daily  bread. 

God's  goodness  and  love  appear  in  the  variety  of 
things  he  has  provided  for  your  food.  It  would  have 
been  kind,  if  he  had  only  provided  one  thing.  But  the 
variety  is  wonderful.  Fish,  fowl,  and  beasts  ;  corn  of 
various  kinds,  wholesome  roots,  and  delicious  fruits  ; — 
all  these  in  rich  variety  he  has  provided  io\;  owx 
lourlsbment,  life,  and  comfort,  Observe,  «\^o^  ^\^ 
rovJsion  is  constant^  day  after  day,  year   «c^X.et  ^^^^ 


38  S£RKON« 

This  IS  not  all.  God  does  it  with  delight.  No  mother 
has  ^ch  delight  in  feeding  her  smiling  babe,  as  God 
lias  in  feeding  you  at  the  table  of  his  Providence,  and 
with  the  bounties  of  his  goodness.  All  this  prodaims, 
"  God  is  love." 

2d.  GtKl  gives  you  rahnent.  No  creature  is  bo 
helpless  as  the  new-bom  babe.  If  there  were  bo 
raiment  provided  for  its  clothing  and  defence,  it  woqU 
die  and  perish  in  a  few  moments.  But  when  you  wen 
born,  there  was  raiment  ready  to  clothe  your  litde, 
feeble,  delicate,  helpless  bodies.  Who  made  the  wool, 
the  cotton,  the  flax,  and  the  silk  for  our  clothing  ?  It 
was  God.  Thus,  you  are  defended  from  the  rain,  the 
snow,  the  hail,  and  the  vnnter's  cold.  Your  very 
clothing  may  be  said  to  speak.  And  what  does  it  say? 
It  says,  "  God  is  love." 

3d.  God,  as  the  God  of  Providence,  gives  hedttlu 
We  cannot  calculate  the  value  of  health.     A  yooth 
enjoying  health  is  not    only  free   from   disease,  but 
vigorous,  and  lively,  and  active.     This  is  more  pre- 
cious than  gold,  and  silver,  and  jewels.     No  earthly 
possession  can  be  enjoyed  without  health.     If  a  man 
has  houses,  and  lands,  without  health,  he  i«  wretched  i 
and  miserable..    And  when  health  is  connected  with 
true  piety,  with  love  to  Clirist,  we  cannot  conceive  its  ] 
worth.     What  does    this  blessing  proclaim  ?     "  God   | 
is  love." 

4th.  God  provides  yon  with  a  home.  Your  home 
may  be  small,  and  mean  ;  still,  it  is  a  home.  And 
there  you  have  comforts  that  you  can  have  nowhere 
else.  If  you  love  Jesus,  oh  what  a  blessed  home  is 
prepared  for  you  beyond  the  skies !  And  what  does 
this  proclaim  ?     "  God  is  love." 

5th.  Grod  gives  jon  friends.     The  most  of  you  have 

fathers  and  mothers,  who  provide  for  you,  and  watch 

over  you.     And  you  cawnot  tell  the  value  of  a  khid 

father,  and  of  a  tei\deT-\ve.«k.v\.^^isixiOaR\,    ^>a\.W«  ex- 

ceedino-ly  valuable  ave  ^axVv^T^  wi^  xfii^3^f«^\s^'^m 

and  aistev^y  uncles  atvdaMtvX^^\i^^^^Tt^^'^^^^^ 


SER3fON.  59 

Better  it  is  to  have  such  friends,  however  poor,  than  to 
have  graceless  nobles  and  princes  -for  your  friends. 
Such  friends  are  a  precious  possession.  Who  gave 
them  ?     God,  who  is  the  Grod  of  love. 

6th.  God,  as  the  God  of  Providence,  gives  you 
ministers  and  teachers.  You  have  sanctuaries  where 
you  hear  the  glorious  Gospel  from  the  lips  of  your 
ministers,  and  you  have  schools  where  you  may  learn 
many  lessons  of  wisdom  and  holiness  from  the  lips  of 
your  teachers.  These  sanctuaries  are  more  valuable 
than  palaces ;  and  these  schools  are  more  valuable  than 
banks  full  of  silver  and  gold.  The  God  of  Providence 
gave  you  these  blessings.  And  these  blessings  in 
accents  loud  and  sweet  proclaim,  "  God  is  love." 

In  the  next  Sermon  of  the  next  month,  by  Divine 
|>erniission,  we  shall  show  tliat,  as  the  God  of  Grace, 
«  God  is  love." 

In  conclusion,  let  us  sing  to  the  Providence  which 
pFOclaims  Divine  love  : — 

1. 

'*  I  «ing  the  goodness  of  the  Lord, 
That  filVd  the  earth  with  food ; 
He  form'd  the  creatures  with  his  word. 
And  then  pronounced  them  good. 

"  Lord,  how  thy  wonders  are  display'd, 
Where'er  I  turn  mine  eyes ; 
If  I  survey  the  ground  I  tread. 
Or  gaze  upon  the  skies. 

3. 

"  There  *a  not  a  plant  or  flaw'r  below. 
But  makes  thy  glory  known  ; 
And  clouds  arise  and  t-empests  blow 
By  order  Irom  thy  throne. 

4. 

"  Creatures  as  numerous  as  they  be, 

Are  subject  to  thy  care ; 
There  *s  not  a  place  where  we  can  ^ee. 
But  God  ia  present  there. 


60  NAMES  OF  JESUS 

5. 

"  In  heaven  he  shines  with  beiuns  of  love. 
With  wrath  in  hell  beneath ; 
'Tis  on  his  earth  I  stand  or  move. 
And  'tis  his  air  I  breathe. 

6. 

"  His  hand  is  my  perpetual  guard, 
He  keeps  me  with  his  eye  : 
Why  should  I  then  forget  the  Lord, 
Who  is  for  ever  nigh  ] " 


NAMES  AND  TITLES  OF  JESUS,  ALPHA- 
BETICALLY ARRANGED. 

In  No.  14  we  considered  four  names  of  Jesofl^ 
beginning  with  the  letter  B.  These  were,  Btbe, 
Balm,  Beginning,  and  Beloved.  We  now  proceed  to 
consider  the  following  five  names  commencing  wit^ 
the  same  letter — Bishop,  Blessed,  Bread,  Breaker,  and 
Bridegroom. 

FirsU — Our  Saviour  is  called  a  Bishop,  1  Pet.  iL  25: 
"  Ye  were  as  sheep  going  astray ;  but  have  now  re- 
turned to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  your  souls.* 
The  Bishop  of  souls  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The 
word  Bishop  signifies  one  who  looks  after  and  who  care- 
fully watches,  as  a  shepherd  looks  after  and  carefully 
watches  his  flock.  A  minister  is  appointed  by  Jesos 
to  look  after  and  carefully  to  watch  his  people  or  flock. 
In  this  sense  he  is  a  shepherd  or  bishop. 

What  kind  of  a  Bishop  is  Christ  ? 

1st.  He  is  a  great  Bishop,  greater  than  kingS} 
greater  than  all  the  Archangels  of  heaven. 

2d.  He  is  IJord  Bishop.  He  is  Lord  of  lords.  He 
is  the  Lord  Bishop  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  of  the 
Church  militant  below,  and  of  the  Church  triomplumt 

above.  i 

3(1.   He  is  a  rich  "BKaVo^.    ^^  ^v\m  ^^^^^^"^  ^^'^ 
fulness  of  the  GodYiea^\>o^v\^.  C.^V\\-^. 


ALPHABETIC ALLT  ARRANGED.         61 

4th.  He  is  a  kind  Bishop.  When  on  earth,  he 
took  up  little  children  in  his  arms,  laid  them  in  his 
bosom,  pressed  them  to  his  heart,  and  blessed  them. 
Oh  how  kind  ! 

He  is  as  kind  now  as  he  was  tlien.  If  you  flee  to 
him  in  prayer,  he  will  take  you  up  into  the  arms  of 
his  love  and  bless  you. 

*'  Lo  !  Jesus  the  kind  Bishop  stands. 
To  court  you  to  his  arms ; 
Do  not  resist  his  wondrous  grace, 
Nor  slight  his  powerful  charms," 

Secondly^ — Our  Saviour  is  called  by  the  name 
Blessed.  Ps.  Ixxii.  17  :  "  All  nations  shall  call  him 
blessed,*'  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  shall  call 
him  blessed.  France,  Spain,  Portugal,  Italy,  Ger- 
many, Prussia,  Holland,  and  Russia,  shall  call  him 
blessed.  He  shall  bless  all  nations,  and  therefore  all 
iiations  shall  call  him  blessed.  In  every  respect  Jesus 
is  blessed.  But  let  us  consider  him  for  a  little  as  a 
Messed  Fountain,  Zeeh.  xiii.  1,  "  And,  in  that  day 
there  shall  be  a  Fountain  opened  to  the  house  of  David 
ftod  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  for  sin  and  for 
uncleanness."  Jesus  is  that  Fountain,  Oh,  what 
wonderful  streams  flow  from  this  blessed  Fountain. 
I  mention  four  : — 

"Ist.  A  blessed  stream  of  life  flows  from  it.  You 
remember,  Jesus  told  the  woman  of  Samaria,  that  he 
was  willing  to  give  her  of  this  stream  of  living  water, 
and  also,  if  she  drank,  that  it  would  be  in  her  a  well 
of  water,  springing  up  into  everlasting  life. 

2d.  A  blessed  stream  of  pardon  flows  from  Christ 
the  fountain.  Young  friends,  drink  of  this  stream, 
and  your  sins  shall  be  forgiven,  and  remembered  no 
more. 

3d.  A  blessed  stream  of  holiness  flows  from  this 
fountain.     Drink  of  this  stream,  an4  yo\xT  «^\rv\\M\ 
heanty  will  surpass  the  loveliness  of  t\ie  ro^  «cA>i^vi 
vstre  of  the  skjr. 


62  KAHES  OJP  csniftT 

4th.  A  blessed  streamr  of  happiness  flows  from  tbis 
Fountain.  When  yoa  begin  to  drink  of  this  happi- 
ness,, your  happiness-  will  begin.  What  »  lessoa  ymt 
shall  learn !  You  will  "  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakablv 
and  full  of  glory.i'  A  blessed  day^is  fast  approacfatBg, 
when — 

"  People  and  realms  of  every  tongtre. 
Dwell  on  his  love  with  sweetest  song.; 
And  yotuthful  voices  shall  proclaim 
Their  early  blessings  on  his  name." 

Thirdly^ — Our  blessed  Saviour  is  called  Bread. 
He  calls  himself  Bread,  John  vi.  48,  "  I  am  the 
Bread  of  life."     Why  is  Jesus  called  Bread? 

1st.  As  bread  nourishes  the  body,  Jesus  the  Bread 
of  life  nourishes  the  soul.  When  we  are  loving 
Christ,,  and  believing  in  him,,  then  we  are  feeding  on 
him,  and  then  we  are  nourished  ty  him. 

2d.  As  bread  keeps  the  bodya/ure  witlinaturallife, 
Jesus  keeps  the  soul  alive  viiih.  spiritual  life. 

3d.  As  food  strengthens  the  body,,  so  Jesus  strengthens- 
the  soul.  Oh,  how  strong,  even  in  dying,  is  the  pious 
child !  Strengthened  by  the  Bread  of  life,  he  longs  to 
depart. 

4th.  As  bread  comforts  the  body,  so  Jesus,,  the 
Bread  of  life,  comforts  the  soul.  He  gives  it  comforts 
which  neither  sufferings  nor  death  can  destroy — com- 
forts which  will  endure  for  ever. 

May  you  and  I  be  enabled  with  the  heart  to  sing-* 

''  Is  Christ  compared:  to  living  Bread  % 
Bear  Lord,  our  souls  would,  thus  be  fad : 
That  flesh,  that  dying  blood  of  thine^ 
Is  Bread  of  life — ^is  heavenly  wine.^ 

Fourthly t — Our  Saviour  is  called  ^  the  Bbeakjcb. 

Micah  ii.  13,  "  The  Breaker  is  gone  up  before  them." 

This  is  a  very  surprising  name;  but' uncommon. and 

SEurprising  as  it  i&,  \t  i^moeXya^^xV^  ^^Ucable  toOhast. 

1st.  Jesus  breaks  liearts.    I^^X^twJJrs^  ^Soft^^^pnAA^ 

the  heart,  and  the  cnmUy  o^  \\i^\i^\«\,  wi^^aDR.u^s^ 


ALPfiJkBETICALLX  AmUJTQED. 

e  heatty  and  the  carnality'  of  the:  beairt^  and  the 
laci/  of  the  heart 

..  He  breaks  up  the  may.  Jesus  goes  before  holj 
ren  oa  their  jounne^  to  heaven ;:  and  he  remove? 
)f  their  way  temptations  and  enemies.  Every 
that  would  hinder  them,  he  breaks  and  removes. 
.  He  breaks  weapons  of  war.  Ps.  xlvi.  9,  "  He 
th  wars  to  cease  unto  the  end  of  the  earth;  he 
:eth  the  bow,  and  cutteth  the  spear  in  sunder ;  he 
ith  the  chariot  in  the  fire."  The  time,  therefore, 
ning,  when  there  will  be  no  soldiers,  no  musket<?, 
rords,  no  spears,  no  armies,  no  war.  Oh !  join 
me  in  the  following  beautiful  lines : — 

**  He  breaks  the  bow,  he  cats  the  spear. 
Chariots  he  bums  with  heavenly  flame ; 
Keep  silence  all  the  earth,. and  hear 
The  sound  and  glory  of  his  name." 

fthly, — Jesus  is  called  a  Bbidegroom.     John  iii. 

^  He  that  hath   the  bride  is  the  Bridecjroom,*^ 

Uhuroh  is  Christ's  hride,  and  Christ  is  the  Church's 

eijrooin.     See  how  kind  Jesus  is,  as  the  Church's 

egroom, 

:.  He  loves  his  Church.     Jen  xxxi.  3.     He  sajs 

3  bride,  "  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting 

'  May  we  hear  Jesus  say  so  to  us  I 

,  He  clothes   his  bride.     Isa.  Ixi.  10,    "I  will 

ly  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  my  soul  shall  be  very 

1  in  my  God."    Why  does  the  Church  speak  thus  ? 

uids,  '*  For  he  has  clothed  me  with  the  garments 

Ivation,  and  covered  me  with  the  robe  of  right- 

less." 

.  He  enriches  his  bride.     P&.  Ixxxiv.  11,    "  The 

will  give  grace  and  glory :  and  no  good  thing 
le  withhold  from  them  that  walk  uprightly." 
1.  He  defends  his  bride.     Ps.  xci.  4,    "  He  will 
•  thee  with  his  feathers,  under  his  vfm^a  ^t\\.^wx 
;  his  truth  shall  he  thy  shield  and\>wc^<et?' 

He  forever  lives  with,  his  bride.  lSlaU.xx.N\\\**i^^" 


64  THE  obphan's  HTior. 

"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway."     His  bride  shall  never 
be  a  widow,  for  both  live  for  ever. 

6th.  He  will  take  his  bride  to  heaven.  John  xivJ, 
*'  I  will  come  again  unto  you  to  receive  you  to  myself, 
that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also."    Let  as,  then, 


sing  :■ 


''  All  over  glorious  is  our  Lord, 
Must  be  beloved,  and  yet  adored ; 
His  worth,  if  all.the  nations  knew. 
Sure  the  whole  earth  would  love  him  too." 


THE  ORPHAN'S  HYMN. 

Along  life's  road  no  parent's  hand 

My  homeless  footsteps  led;    - 
No  mother's  arms  in  sickness  soothed,    .  . 

And  raised  my  throbbing  head. 

But  other  heart-s.  Lord,  thou  hast  warm*d. 

With  tenderness  benign ; 
For  in  the  stranger's  eye  I  mark 

The  tear  of  pity  shine. 

The  stranger's  hand  by  Thee  is  moved 

To  be  the  Orphan's  stay ; 
And,  better  far,  the  stranger's  voice 

Hath  taught  me  how  to  pray. 

To  God  let  every  creature  join 
In  prayer,  and  thanks,  and  praise ; 

Infants  their  little  anthems  lisp. 
Age,  hallelujahs  raise  1  ^ 

Communicated  by  Edwabd  B.  Coopeb,  Donnybrook-rocul,  DubUn- 


SACRED  BOTANY     ■ 

AFPLE-TBEE,   OS  CITROH. 

It  IB  well  known,  that  the  apple-tree  which  grows 
so  many  parts  of  Europe,  and  which  exhibits  such 
eliness,  and  shows  such  fruitful  luxuriance  in  Great 
itain,  is' not  found  in  Palestine.  What  is  trans- 
id  in  oar  Englisb  version  of  the  ScT\p\.iH6a,  \%  t\w., 
ctfr  speaking,  the  Apple-tree,  but  t\i6  Cwb.oi5.  T^'6 
i  of  this    tree,    when    fully    ripe,  baa  a  \iftaM<\'ivi 


66  SACRED  BOTANY. 

golden  appearance.  Hence  the  appropriateness  of  the 
following  poetical  and  glowing  figure,  Prov.  xxv.  11: 
"  A  word  fitly  spoken  is  like  apples  {citrons)  of  gold 
in  pictures  of  silver." 

Citron-trees  are  of  a  very  noble  appearance  ;  their 
size  is  magnificent ;  the  leaves  are  peculiarly  beauti- 
ful, continuing  in  constant  succession  ;  the  branches 
are  never  denuded,  as  many  of  the  trees  are  in  our 
country,  and  in  other  northern  climes.  Their  fra- 
grance is  most  exquisite  and  refreshing ;  furnishing  a 
most  delightful  and  cooling  shade.  Hence,  the  Church 
is  represented  as  saying,  in  Song  ii.  3,  "  As  the  apple 
(citron)  tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  so  is  my 
beloved  among  the  sons.  I  sat  down  under  his  shadow 
with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my 
taste."  The  fragrance  of  the  aromatic  leaves  may  he 
considered  a  fit  and  figurative  illustration  of  the  influ- 
ences of  Christ's  Spirit : 

"  More  sweet  the  fiagrance  which  thy  breath  exhales. 
Than  Citron-groves  refreshed  hy  morning  gales." 

The  original  Hebrew  name  is  nfflJl,  Taphnah. 
This  word  signifies  literally  to  breathe.  This  is  ex- 
ceedingly characteristic  of  the  citron-tree,  both  as  to  its 
leaves,  blossoms,  and  fruit,  which  breathe  or  exhale 
the  most  delightful  fragrance.  The  word  which  is 
translated  apples,  is  D^^SD,  Taphnim^  intimating  that 
which  exhales  the  most  agreeable  and  refreshing 
odour. 

Ancient  authors  make  mention   of  the    Citron  as 

known  to  the  Jews,  and  being  abundant  in  Palestine. 

Joseph  us  records,  that  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  the 

Jews  actually  pelted  King  Alexander  Janneus  with 

citrons,  which  they  had  then  in  their  hands  ;  probahly, 

because  he  had  not  a. branch  of  the  citron  in  his  hand; 

which  was  particularly  required  by  the  law  at  that 

feast.     From  this  ?acl  \>«va%  xafcXiVvaii^  by  the  ancient 

•Jewish  historian,  it  is  «v\^«ii\.>  \X^^  ^aXxostL-vx^fc  ^^^^^ 

known  before  the  daya  ol  k\«.«xv^^Ti  ^^x^^%.,  X^^ 


SERMON.  67 

intiiDfltes,  that  Josepbus  and  the  Jewish  writers  gene- 
rally understood  the  citron-tree  to  be  signified  bj  the 
"  boughs  of  the  goodly  tree,"  mentioned  in  Levit.  xxiii. 
40  ;  which  were  used  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
"  when  the  Jews  rejoiced  before  the  Lord  seven  days." 


SERMON    V. 

GOD  IS   LOVE. 


'  Second  Paet. 

"  Ood  is  love.** — John  ir.  8. 

In  our  first  Sermon  on  this  text,  I  endeavoured,  my 
young  friends,  to  show,  that  "  God  is  love,"  if  we  con- 
sider him  as  the  God  of  Creation,  and  as  the  God  of 
Providence.  By  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  I  will 
now  endeavour  to  show,  that 

**  God  is  love,"  as  the  God  of  Salvation.  There  are 
three  things  belonging  to  salvation,  which  very  re- 
markably show  that  "  God  is  love."  The  first,  is  the 
Contrivance  of  Salvation.  The  second,  is  the  AccotU' 
plishment  of  Salvation.  The  third,  is  the  Application 
of  Salvation.  Endeavour  to  fix  your  attention  on 
these  three.  Study  them  most  carefully.  Moses  called 
the  bush  on  fiames  and  not  consumed,  a  wonderful 
sight.  Exod.  iii.  3.  And  he  said,  "  I  will  now  turn 
aside,  and  see  this  great  sight,  why  the  bush  is  not 
burnt."  Those  three  things  which  I  have  mentioned, 
namely,  the  Contrivance,  the  Accomplishment,  and  the 
Application  of  Salvation,  are  three  great  sights.  Let 
each  one  of  you  now  say,  as  Moses  did,  "  1  villi  Iwtcl 
aside^  and  see  these  three  great  s\g\ita  V  0\i^  tkoc^ 
God  the  Spirit  enable  you  to  look  «iiv^  \3ltl^^v^\».xA^ 


6S  SERMON. 

to  look  and  believe,  to  look  and  admire,  to  look  and 
adore  ! 

L  In  the  Contrivance  of  the  plan  of  Salvation  we 
see  that  "  God  is  love." 

We  generally  speak  of  God  the  Father  as  contriv- 
ing the  great  plan  of  Salvation  ;  of  God  the  Son  as 
accomplishing  the  plan  ;  and  of  God  the  Spirit  as 
applying  Salvation  to  the  souls  of  those  who  believe. 
In  all  this,  there  is  a  matchless  display  of  love.  There 
is  here  a  threefold  display  of  love,  all  uniting  in  one 
glorious  sun  of  brightness,  surpassing  all  the  glory  of 
the  universe  beside. 

1st.  Love  moved  God  the  Father  to  contHve  the 
plan  of  Salvation.  It  was  the  wisdom  of  God  which 
contrived  the  plan,  but  it  was  the  love  of  God  which 
moved  his  wisdom  to  contrive  it.  Oh  what  a  wonderful 
plan  is  this  plan  of  salvation  !  All  good  men  agree, 
that  this  is  the  most  wonderful  plan  that  ever  Divine 
wisdom  contrived.  This  appears  plain  when  we  con- 
sider that  this  plan  makes  known  the  most  wonderful 
love  that  men  or  angels  ever  heard,  or  ever  knew. 
How  delightful  to  think,  that  in  contriving  the  plan  of 
salvation  Divine  wisdom  was  the  servant  of  Divine 
love.  Never  was  Divine  wisdom  more  honoured; 
never  was  Divine  wisdom  so  much  honoured.  Whit 
do  we  read  in  the  contrivance  of  the  plan  of  Salvation? 
We  read  this  :  "  God  is  love." 

2d.  The  immense  multitude  for  whom  the  plan  of 
Salvation  was  contrived  shows  the  greatness  of  this 
love.     Yes,  it  shows  that  the  tongues  of  angels  can- 
not describe  its  greatness.     It  shows  that  the  very 
minds  of  angels  cannot  conceive  its  greatness.     We 
admire  mercy  shown  to  one  individual.     To  contrive 
a  plan  to  deliver  one  little  child  from  the  hand  of  cruel 
robbers,  who  tore  it  from  a  mother's  bosom,  we  cannot 
but  admire.    To  contrive  a  plan  for  delivering  a  thou- 
SRnd  captive  slaves  \)o\\tv^  m\)ti  vcqw^  vbl^  perishing  in 
dungeonsy  we  admire  liVAaTCi^TC^^'^^^Qt^.   ^mVXrt 
loved  joung  friends,  Yvow  ^ou^««^v^Ta>MX^'s»x.\^^'^'^ 


SERMON.  69 

contrived  a  plan  for  the  salvation  of  millions, 
mltitudes  which  no  man  can  number,  out  of  all 
IS,  and  tongues,  and  people,  and  languages !  How 
he  following  lines  : — 

"  Grace  first  contrived  the  way 
To  save  rebellious  man, 
And  all  its  wondrous  steps  display 
That  love  which  drew  the  plan." 

In  the  Accomplishment  of  Salvation  we  see 
•  God  is  love." 

young  friends,  it  was  Chbist,  the  Second  Person 
J  Trinity,  who  accomplished  the  great  plan  of 
tion.  What  does  St.  Paul  call  Christ  ?  In  Heb. 
be  calls  him  "  the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to 
em  that  obey  him."  Oh  may  the  following  re- 
ible  saying  be  engraven  on  your  young  hearts  ! 
1.  i.  15,  "  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy 

acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the 

to  save  sinners  ;  of  whom  I  am  chief." 

.  Christ  willingly  engaged  from  all  eternity  to 

iplish  Salvation.     It  was  long  before  the  world, 

e  sun,  moon,  and  stars  were  made,  that  Jesus 

1  to  become  the  Saviour  of  men,  women,   and 

children.     Was  not  this  surprising  love  ?     The 

r  wished  to  send  his  Son  into  our  world  to  save. 

Jon  was  willing  to  come  and  save.     The  Father 

the  Son.  The  Son  consented.    The  Father  said, 

o   will  go  to   obtain   salvation   for  guilty,   lost, 

uined  man?"     The  Son  answered,  "I  will  go; 

ne."   Ps.  xL  7,  8,  "  Then  said  I,  Lo,  I  come  :  in 

)lume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight 

thy  will,  O  my  God  :  yea,  thy  law  is  within  my 
» 

"  '  Behold,  I  come,'  the  Saviour  cries, 
With  love  and  pity  in  his  eyes ; 
'  I  come  to  bear  the  heavy  load 
Of  BIDS,  and  do  thy  will,  my  God*  '* 

never  beard  of  an  earthly  king  viW^iti^^  ^^^7 
to  save  rebellious  subjects,  by  \ay\ti%  ^o^xjlXs^.^ 


70  S£BMON* 

life  ;  but  we  know  something  infinitely  more  wonder- 
ful. We  know  that  Jesus,  the  King  of  kings,  the  Son 
of  the  Eternal  Father,  entered  into  a  covenant,  and 
engaged  to  corae  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  hyhis 
death,  to  save  rebellious  men.  "  There  never  was  love 
like  this  ! "  How  loudly  this  proclaims,  "  God  is  love."    ' 

2d.  Christ  became  7nan  to  accomplish  salvation. 
He  could  not  save  man,  without  taking  upon  him  the 
nature  of  man.  He  could  not  save  man  without  three 
things.  The  three  are,  obeying,  suffering,  dying.  Yoa 
know,  my  beloved  young  friends,  that  as  Grod,  he  conld 
not  obey  ;  as  God,  he  could  not  suffer;  as  God,  he 
could  not  die.  To  be  able  to  do  these  three^  he  took 
upon  him  our  nature.  And  in  that  nature  he  did  the 
three.  He  obeyed,  he  suffered,  he  died.  Therefore 
we  read,  Heb.  x.  5,  "  A  body  hast  thou  prepared  me." 
I  will  tell  you  what  the  angels  sung  when  he  appeared 
on  earth,  arrayed  in  human  form.  (Luke  ii.  14.)  They 
sung,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good-will  toward  men."  They  sung  this  song 
with  wonder  and  delight. 

When  the  holy  Apostle  thought  of  Christ  taking 
upon  him  a  human  body,  and  appearing  in  the  likenesi 
of  sinful  flesh,  he  said,  1  Tim.  i.  15,  '<  Great  is  the 
mystery  of  godliness,  God  made  manifest  in  the  flesh!" 
Young  friends,  observe  the  words,  "  God  manifest  !* 
These  words  show,  and  prove,  that  Christ  is  Grod; 
that  he  is  both  God  and  man.  Yes,  Gt)d  and  man  in 
one  Person.  Oh  what  wonderful  love  is  this  !  Hoir 
loudly  this  proclaims,  "  God  is  love  I "  Let  os  then 
exclaim  with  wonder  : 

'*  But  lo !  he  leaves  those  heavenly  forms — 
Oar  Lord  descends  and  dwells  in  clay. 
That  he  may  save  polluted  womis, 
DressM  in  such  feeble  flesh  as  they ! " 

5d.  Consider  -wli^l  CVimt  did  to  save.    He  yielded 
obedience  to  tbe  "DWrn^  \^^.   "NNV^wxx.  ^jv^^xs!^  ihk 
obedience  he  never  co\i\^>a^  ^^'^viVwxt  ^1  Tassa..  '^x^ 
and  remember  tte  foWoN^Va^  «^^i«.^^  Qjl\J^.S«ftj 


SERMON.  71 

ence.  It  was  most  willing^  it  was  universal,  obedience  to 
every  command.  It  was  constant,  throughout  all  his  life. 
It  was  perfect,  without  a  flaw.  And  it  was  infinitely 
meritoriotis.  Why  ?  Because  of  his  Divine  nature  con- 
nected with  his  human.  This  stamped  merit, — yes, 
boundless  worth  on  all  he  did.  It  was  foretold,  Isa. 
zL  21,  that  he  should  "  magnify  the  law  and  make  it 
honourable."  By  his  obedience  to  the  law,  the  pro- 
mise was  fulfilled.  God  in  human  form  obeyed  the 
law,  and  magnified  it,  and  honoured  it,  as  it  never 
was  before,  and  never  can  be  since.  What  does  Christ's 
obedience  proclaim  ?  It  proclaims  this,  "  God  is  love." 

4th.  Consider  what  Christ  suffered  to  accomplish 
salvation. 

From  whom  did  he  suffer  ?  From  the  hand  of  men, 
from  the  hand  of  evil  spirits,  and  from  the  hand  of 
offended  Justice. 

In  what  did  he  suffer  ?  In  his  soul,  in  his  body, 
in  his  character  and  estate.  Wherever  he  could  suffer, 
there  he  suffered. 

And  what  did  he  suffer  ?  Oh,  hear  it  with  amaze- 
ment !  He  suffered  poverty,  toil,  sickness,  hunger, 
watchings,  shame,  temptations,  reproachings,  the  hid- 
ing of  his  Father's  countenance,  crucifixion,  and 
death  !  There  never  were  sufferings  like  his  suffer- 
ings. There  never  was  sorrow  like  his  sorrow.  There 
never  was  death  like  his  death.  All  these  he  bore 
to  satisfy  offended  j  ustice  ;  all  these  he  bore  to  obtain 
for  us  an  everlasting  salvation.  What  do  we  read  in 
bis  sufferings  ?  "  God  is  love."  What  do  we  read  on 
his  cross  ?  "  God  is  love."  What  do  we  read  on  his 
tomb  ?  "  God  is  love  I " 

"  How  condescending  and  how  kind 
Was  Qod's  eternal  Son ; 
Our  misery  reach'd  his  heavenly  mind. 
And  pity  brought  him  down. 

"  This  waa  compassion  like  a  God, 
That  when  the  Saviour  knew 
The  price  of  pardon  was  his  b\ood. 
His  pity  ne'er  withdrew." 


72  SEBMON. 

III.  The  Application  of  Salvation  shows  that  **  God 
is  love."  To  apply  salvation  is  the  great,  the  peculiar 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  In  the  application  of  salva- 
tion to  the  soul,  there  are  two  things  especially  which 
the  Spirit  does  :  first,  he  convinces ;  and  secondly,  he 
converts.     And  both  these  show  that  "  God  is  love." 

1st.  The  Holy  Spirit  convinces  the  poor  sinner. 
What  does  Christ  say  of  the  Spirit  on  this  subject? 
He  says,  John  xvi.  8,  "  And  when  he  is  come,  he 
will  convince  the  world  of  sin."  No  sinner  can  be 
converted  without  being  convinced  of  sin.  When, 
therefore,  he  is  about  to  be  converted  by  the  Spirit, 
and  all  the  blessings  of  salvation  are  about  to  become 
his  own,  the  Holy  Spirit  convinces  him  of  sin.  He 
opens  the  eyes  of  his  mind,  and  enables  him  to  see  his 
sinfulness  and  his  danger  ;  and,  also,  that  without  the 
salvation  of  Christ,  he  must  be  for  ever  lost  and 
undone.  When  he  shows  him  this  sight,  this  humbling, 
this  affecting  sight,  he  teaches  him  to  cry  out  in 
earnestness  of  soul,  like  the  gaoler  of  Philippi,  Acts 
xvi.  30,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  My  young 
friends,  may  you  be  taught  to  say  with  sincere  hearts— 
"  Eternal  Spirit, 

Enlighten'd  by  thine  heavenly  ray, 
Our  shades  and  darkness  turn  to  day ;  ^ 

Thine  inward  teachings  make  us  know 
Our  danger  and  our  refuge  too." 

2d.  The  Holy  Spirit  converts  the  sinner.  Then,  in 
one  moment,  all  the  blessings  of  salvation  become  his. 
They  are  applied  to  him  by  the  almighty,  gracious 
power  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  What  a  moment  !  What 
a  blessed  moment !  A  moment  to  be  remembered  with 
interest,  thankfulness,  and  joy  for  ever  and  ever  I 

To  be  converted   is   to   be   bom  again.     And  the 

Spirit   is  the   Author  of  this   birth.     Jesus   said  to 

JVicodemus,  John  iii.  6,  "  That  which  is  born  of  the 

Spirit  is  spirit."     WVi«i\,  ^o^a  V^v^  ^^\yA.  ^cj,  ^ben  he 

converta  a  sinner  ?  rr^x .    -      ^  :. 

First,   He  gives  Wm  a  ticto  h^Xxo^    "SiVx.^  ^^  'j:^^ 


CONTENTMENT.  73 

regeneratioTiy  or  being  "born  again."  Secondly,  He 
enables  liim  to  receive  Christ,  and  all  the  blessings 
of  salvation.  This  is,  in  truth,  the  Application  of 
salvation  to  the  soul.  Thirdly,  He  teaches  him  to 
cry  "  Abba,  Father."  Fourthly,  He  keeps  him  in  a 
state  of  grace,  and  preserves  in  his  soul  all  the  graces 
he  has  given  him.  Fifthly,  He  makes  perfect,  at  the 
death  of  the  body,  all  the  graces,  and  thus  prepares 
him  for  taking  his  place  among  the  saints  in  heaven. 

CONCLUSION. 

Beloved  young  friends,  never  cease  seeking  salvation 
in  earnest  prayer,  until  you  are  able  to  say  in  holy 
triumph,  "I  have  found  it,  I  have  found  it!" 

"  Grace  drew  my  wandering  feet 
To  tread  the  heavenly  road  ; 
Thence  new  supplies  each  hour  I  meet. 
While  pressing  home  to  God. 

"  Grace  all  the  work  shall  crown, 
Through  everlasting  days  ; 
It  lays  in  heaven  the  topmost  stone. 
And  well  deserves  the  praise." 


CONTENTMENT. 

SoCEATES,  in  going  through  the  market-place,  said, 
"  How  many  tilings  are  here  that  I  do  not  want  ! " 

A  good  old  dissenting  minister  at  Frome,  who  had 
but  a  small  salary,  used  to  say  playfully  to  his  friends : 
"  I  owe  nothing ;  I  am  owed  nothing ;  I  have  nothing ; 
and  I  want  nothing." 

"  A  contented  mind  is  a  continual  feast."  "  All 
trouble  to  such  a  man,"  says  Leighton,  **  is  only  like 
the  rattling  of  the  hailstones  on  the  roof  of  the  house 
to  him  who  sits  at  a  sumptuous  feast  within.'' 

"  Turn,  pilgrim,  turn,  thy  carea  fotego. 

All  earth-born  cares  are  wrong  •, 
M&u  wauta  but  little  hero  \>e\ow, 
NQr  wants  that  little  loxvg;' 


EXCELLENCES  OP  THE  BIBLE, 

ALPHABEIIOALLT  ABBANGEQ. 

(Continued  from  Vol,  II,  p.  44.) 

Dainty  Food.— Does  dainty  mean  precious  ?  How  precious  is 
the  word  of  God  I  "  It  is  more  precious  than  rubies."  Does 
dainty  mean  rare  ?  The  Bible  is  in  one  sense  rare.  For  among 
the  millions  of  books  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  there  is  only  one 
word  of  God.  Does  dainty  mean  pleasant  or  delicious  to  the 
taste  1  Oh,  how  sweet,  how  delicious  is  the  Bible  to  the  spiritoal 
taste  of  the  pious  child.  "  It  is  sweeter  than  honey ;  yea,  eyen 
than  the  honeycomb."  Ps.  xix.  10.  That  is  a  blessed,  happy 
child,  who  can  say  with  the  heart, "  The  Bible  is  the  dainty 
food,  the  savoury  meat,  which  my  soul  loves." 


"  Not  honey  to  the  taste 
Affords  so  much  delight, 
Nor  gold  that  has  the  furnace  pass'd 
So  much  allures  my  sight." 

Epistlb. — The  Bible  is  indeed  an  Epistle,  or  Letter,  God  is  the 
Writer  of  the  Epistle.  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  "  All  Scripture  is  given 
by  inspiration  of  God."  What  an  useful  Epistle  it  is;  it  "is 
profitable  for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  and  for 
instruction  in  righteousness."  May  it  be  profitable  to  yon 
and  to  me.  The  Bible  is  a  loving  Epistle.  It  ici  written  by 
love,  and  it  makes  known  the  wonderful  lorn  of  God  to  sisfnl 
men.  It  is  full  of  love.  And  it  makes  known  the  wonderfnl 
truth,  "  God  is  love."  It  is  a  Father's  letter  to  his  sons  and 
daughters.  In  every  part  of  the  Epistle  we  see  a  Father^BwiadoM, 
a  Father's  love,  a  Father's  care.  May  we  find  this  Epistle 
addressed  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  our  hearts ;  then  we  will  sing:— 

"  Thy  word  is  everlasting  truth ; 
How  pure  is  every  page  I 
That  holy  book  shall  guide  our  youth. 
And  well  support  our  age." 

EvBBGBBEN.— What  a  wonderful  tree  is  the  Bible.  The  verm 

of  the  Bible  may  be  consv^etft^  «a  >iJcL^l««w%  oC  tlie  tree.    None 

of  them,  have  ever  faWen  ofS.   TSoTia  o1  \Jsi«ai\ivr<5k\iftK«\.'sio&a8swL 

Neither  the  winds,  not  tYie  ftioxm^,  tlot  V\a  ^w^^m^aW 

ever  been  able  to  blast,  to  ra^uxe,  w  WfflK«aft  \JaMw,  ^sMsmH^ 


MARTYROLOGY.:  75 

lovely  fragrant  leares.  For  many,  many  hundreds  of  years  this 
tree  has  stood,  and  it  is  as  verdant  as  eyer,  and  as  fruitful  as 
e?er.  Oh,  what  delight  pious  children  enjoy,  sitting  under  the 
irlde-spreading  branches  of  this  noble  Evergreen,  the  planting 
of  Qod's  right  hand  !  They  can  say  with  thankfulnetis  and 
joy: — «  We  sat  down  under  its  shadow  with  great  delight,  and 
its  fruit  was  sweet  to  our  taste." 

(To  be  continued.) 


MARTYROLOGY. 


ENGLISH   MARTYRS. 


Bby.  John  Rogers. 

Mart,  daughter  of  Henry  YIII.  and  sister  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
filled  the  throne  of  England  after  her  brother's  death,  namely, 
Edward  YI.  She  was  a  Koman  Catholic  of  the  most  bigoted 
description.  She  believed  that  all  Protestants  were  heretics, 
and  therefore  considered  that  she  pleased,  and  did  God  service, 
when  she  delivered  up  godly  ministers  to  be  consumed  at  the 
stake.  Such  numbers  were  destroyed  in  her  reign,  that  she  has 
received  ever  since  the  merited  name  of  Bloody  Mary,  which 
will  be  handed  down  to  the  remotest  posterity,  accompanied  with 
execration  an^.  horror. 

The  Eev.  John  Rogers,  Vicar  of  St.  Sepulchre's,  and  Reader  of 
St.  Paul's  in  London,  was  the  first  martyr  for  the  truth  during 
the  execrable  reign  of  Mary,  the  English  Jezebel,  the  merciless 
destroyer  of  the  Lord's  prophets  and  saints.  This  good  and 
blessed  man  was  educated  at  Cambridge,  and  was  some  time 
Chaplain  to  the  English  merchants  in  Antwerp.  There  he  met 
aad  formed  an  acquaintance  with  William  Tindal,  and  with 
MUes  Coverdale,  the  celebrated  translators  of  the  Scriptures  into 
the  English  language.  When  Edward  YI.  was  raised  to  the 
throne,  he  returned  to  London.  Bishop  Ridley  gave  him  a. 
prebend  in  the  Cathedral  Church  of  St.  Paul's.  When  Mary 
ascended  the  throne,  she  brought  in,  with  a  high  hand,  all  the 
idolatry  and  superstitions  of  Popery.  So  faithful  was  the  preach- 
Ing  of  this  eminent  minister  of  Christ,  that  he  was  soon  sUenced. 
For  some  time  he  was  a  prisoner  in  his  own  house.  By  the 
cmeKy  of  Bishop  Bonner,  he  was  afterwards  removed  to  New- 
gate, where  he  was  lodged  for  a  great  wYiVVe  mWv  ^i^c^n^^  %n^ 
murderers,  H&  was  tried,  and  sentence  oi  de&V\i  «xA  ^^^gc^^ar 
tion  was  pronounced  upon  him.  Oa  the  4\.\i  Aa."s  ol  '^^^^NiWT* 
US^,  being  Monday  inormng,  h©  was  fiuddeii\^  ^wcuo^  M  ^®^ 


76  MARTTROLOGY. 

wife  of  the  Governor  of  Newgate  to  prepare  himself  for  the  fire. 
He  was  so  sound  asleep,  that  he  could  with  difficulty  be  awaked. 
He  was  brought  before  Bishop  Bonner  with  all  haste,  and  de- 
graded. He  requested  of  the  Bishop  to  speak  a  few  words  to  lus  | 
beloved  wife  before  going  to  the  flames.  This  favour  was  cruelly 
refused.  He  was  then  brought  into  Smithfield  by  the  Sherifis  of  i 
London  to  be  burnt.  He  manifested  great  patience,  and  exhorted 
the  people  to  remain  constant  to  the  faith  he  had  taught,  and  for 
the  confirmation  of  which  he  was  willingly  laying  down  his  life. 
One  of  the  Sheriffs  asked  him  if  he  would  revoke  his  doctrine. 
He  replied,  "  That  which  I  have  preached,  I  will  seal  with  my 
blood."  The  Sheriff  said,  "  Thou  art  an  heretic."  He  answered, 
"  That  will  be  known  at  the  judgment-day."  A  little  before  his 
burning,  his  pardon  was  offered  if  he  would  recant;  but  he 
firmly  refused.  The  fagots  were  kindled  around  him.  He 
washed  his  hands  in  the  flames.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was 
relieved  by  death  from  the  hand  of  his  persecutors,  and  his 
happy  spirit  received  the  martyr's  crown. 

*         Bev.  Lawrence  Saukdsbs. 

Mr.  Saunders  was  one  of  an  highly  respectable  family.  He 
was  educated  in  the  school  of  Eton,  of  ancient  as  well  as 
modem  celebrity.  He  was  chosen  to  be  a  scholar  of  King's 
College,  in  Cambridge,  where  he  continued  three  years.  For 
some  time,  at  the  earnest  entreaty  of  his  rich  relatives,  he  fol- 
lowed a  mercantile  employment,  which  he  afterwards  abandoned 
for  the  holy  ministry,  which  he  loved  above  all  other  professions. 
He  began  to  preach  in  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  the  good 
and  youthful  King  Edward  YL  He  continued  preaching  the 
pure  €k)spel  in  opposition  to  Popish  errors,  until  he  was  made 
prisoner  according  to  the  command  of  the  notorious  and  end 
Bishop  Bonner.  After  he  was  degraded  by  this  Bishop,  he  was 
conveyed  to  Coventry  by  the  Queen's  guard,  to  be  burned.  On 
reaching  that  city  he  was  thrust  into  the  common  gaol  among 
other  prisoners.  He  slept  but  little.  He  spent  the  night  in 
prayer,  and  in  the  instructing  of  his  fellow-prisoners.  The  next 
day,  Feb.  8, 1555,  he  was  led  to  the  place  of  execution,  to  a  pari: 
without  the  dty^  as  his  dear  Saviour  was  led  wUhoui  the  gaU» 
He  went  in  an  old  gown  and  a  shirt,  barefooted,  and  often  fell 
flat  on  the  ground  and  prayed.  When  he  came  to  the  fatal  spot, 
the  ofiicer  appointed  to  preside  at  the  execution,  poured  out  on 
the  good  man  the  most  bitter  and  acrimonious  reproaches, 
charging  him  with  false  doctrines  and  heresies.  He  meekly 
replied,  "I  hold  nothing  but  the  doctrine  of  Cknl,  and  the 
Chapel  of  Christ.'*  T\ie  offiniw,  VcEi\\a.\lYa:|^  Q\a\%t*%  mnrdeieni 
8&id,  "  A  way  with  him  \ "  M^t .  ^wiiiAftT*  ^^tl\»  ^^>3a.  i^sosuei^  N«k 
the  devouring  flames,  w\i\c\i  ^ex^  ^xe^w^^  ^  ^w^  ^MagtfX  >^ 
conrej  his  soul  to  heaven,    ft^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^tA«A  ^^«^ 


TWELVE  MAXIMS,  BY  THE  REV.  T.  WALLACE.      77 

He  rose  up,  took  the  Btake  in  his  arms,  kissed  it,  and  said, 
"  Welcome  the  cross  of  Christ !  welcome  everlasting  life  ! "  He 
was  then  fastened  to  the  stake.  The  fagots  were  kindled,  and 
lie  fell  sweetly  asleep  in  Jesus  ! 

My  young  friends,  you  and  I  may  never  be  called  to  suffer 
martyrdom,  but  may  God  graciously  give  us  martyrs'  hearts  ! 

QUESTION. 

"  What  happy  men,  or  angels,  these, 

That  all  their  robes  are  spotless  white  ] 
Whence  did  this  glorious  troop  arrive 
At  the  pure  reiSms  of  heavenly  light] 

ANSWER. 

'*  From  torturing  racks  and  burning  fires, 
And^seas  of  their  own  blood  they  came ; 
But  nobler  blood  has  wash'd  their  robes, 
Flowing  from  Christ,  the  dying  Lamb." 

(To  be  continued.) 


TWELVE  MAXIMS  FOR  THE  YOUNG, 

BY  THE  REV.  T.  WALLACE. 

1.  Value  and  revere  your  parents  most  highly.  You  cannot 
love  them  too  warmly — serve  them  too  vigorously — obey  them 
too  cheerfully  or  implicitly,  when  you  consider  what  they  have 
done  for  you. 

2.  Cultivate  your  minds  with  the  utmost  care.  Nothing  will 
be  a  greater  blessing  to  you  than  sound  and  superior  intel- 
lectual culture.  It  will  embellish,  enrich,  recommend,  elevate, 
and  animate  you. 

3.  In  early  life,  give  your  hearts  to  the  Saviour.  Let  him 
have  the  best  of  your  days — ^your  talents — your  energies.  Let 
him  have  all  the  warmth  and  purity  of  your  early  affections. 

4.  While  young,  never  be  indifferent  to  prayer ;  it  will  pre- 
pare for  every  duty — guide  in  every  diflSculty — sustain  under 
every  trial — fit  you  for  every  change.  There  is  no  safety  without 
early  attention  to  closet  prayer ;  and,  sure  we  are,  there  is  no 
happiness. 

5.  Consecrate  the  Sabbath  to  God.  Do  it  freely,  heartily, 
uniformly.  If  young  persons  neglect  or  dishonour  the  Sabbath, 
they  have  nothing  but  a  moral  blight,  a  withering  curse,  as  they 
advance  in  life. 

6.  Love  the  ministers  of  Christ     We  nevcx  Viievr  ^  -jcsoSJsv 
wio  realized  a  blessing,  if  he  disesteemed,  ox  de«.^\»fc^  \>asssa^' 

Honour  God's  aerv&nta,  and  he  will  honour  you. 


78  THB  JEWS  :   GOOD  HOPES  OF  THXM. 

7.  Be  very  wary  in  choosing  your  companions.  Ma 
racier  the  main  thing — ^the  fear  of  God ;  else,  you  may  b 
for  ever, 

8.  Do  not  plunge  into  the  dissipations  and  pleasnrei 
world.  They  are  as  degrading  as  empty ;  as  sinfiil  as  asi 
sooner  or  later,  with  misery. 

9.  Secure  the  blessing  of  God  when  young ;  and  re: 
that  the  way  to  gain  that  blessing  is,  to  be  earnest  in  i 
tation.    Ask  it  in  this  manner,  and  it  will  not  be  withli 

10.  Make  the  most  of  your  time.  It  is  very  short,  a 
escent.  Your  early  years  will  glide  away  very  rapidly, 
few  remaining  years  will  seem  to  pass  more  swiftly  th 
which  preceded. 

11.  Beware  of  indecision.  Nothing  is  more  nnwi( 
pernicious,  more  ruinous.  Halt  not  between  two  opinic 
decided  to  serve  God  now,  and  serve  hvmfor  ever, 

12.  Prepare  for  Eternity;  always  be  thinking  of  \\ 
may  soon  be  called  to  die,  and  enter  eternity.     Let,  t 
question  be  most  seriously  proposed  by  every  young 
"  Am  I  ready  to  go  into  Eternity  1 " 


THB  JEWS  :  GOOD  HOPES  OF  THEM. 

The  Great  King,  and  Head  of  the  Church,  is  crown 
success  the  efforts  of  the  Missionaries  of  the  British  So 
Promoting  Christianity  among  the  descendants  of  Ja 
Children  of  Israel. 

The  operations  abroad  are  encouraging.  In  Jaffa,  s 
called  Joppa^  the  Missionary  is  kindly  received  and 
listened  to  by  Jewish  families.  Here,,  a  young  Jew,  a 
the  island  of  Cyprus,  who  can  speak  fluently  many  la 
is  under  the  training  of  Mr.  Manning  the  missionary,  t 
writes :  "  I  have  been  reading,  every  day  since  he  came '. 
Scriptures  with  him,  of  which  he  has  but  a  very  partial  i 
anee ;  but  his  increasing  interest  in  them  is  daily  ma: 
itself.  I  scarcely  pass  his  room,  when  he  is  alone,  bi 
him  reading  an  Italian  Bible  that  I  gave  him." 

Gibraltar. — Mr.  Ben  Oliel,  the  missionary  at  Gibn 

converted  Jewy  said  in  his  valedictory  address  in  ^e  C 

Hall,  London,  19th  July,  1848  :  *'  The  desire  to  cany  1 

tidings  of  salvation  to  my  benighted  brethren  was  firat  • 

within  me  twelve  monWia  «k%o,  Vj  x^^ing  the  conven 

our  Lord  with  tlio  woman  o^  ^^km^T^a^    ^ii.\fea.aMi5^>3M^ 

the  woman,  *  Come,  aee  iw  xnan. ^\iQ  \j^\^  m^  ^Si^s5^p 

I  did ;  is  not  this  the  CViiVbX.^*  1  ^^^^^  ^^^  "^^^  \«2s. 


THE  JEWS  :   GOOD   HOPES   OF    THEM.  79 

^he  question  :  Why  hath  the  Lord  left  this  on  record  1  Is  it  not 
Tor  an  example  1  And  if  so,  is  it  not  also  my  daty  to  go  to  my 
brethren,  and  put  to  them  the  same  question,  '  Is  not  this  the 
Dhrist  r  ....  My  brethren,  the  very  thought,  that  there  are  on 
khe  northern  coast  of  Africa  some  300,000  of  the  seed  of  Abra- 
ham according  to  the  flesh ;  among  whom  there  are  200  souls  of 
my  own  family,  living  and  dying  without  hearing  of  the  love  of 
Qod  to  this  sinful  world,  in  giving  his  own  beloved  Son  a 
lansom  for  many, — I  say,  that  this  very  thought  is  sufficient  to 
make  me  desire  the  missionary  work,  whatev^  difficulties  may 
be  in  the  way." 

This  good  man  has  commenced  his  labours  in  Gibraltar,  and 
Jews  are  induced  to  listen  to  his  voice,  while  he  endeavours  to 
place  before  them  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ.  The  pro- 
spects of  good  among  the  Jews  in  Gibraltar  are  very  encourag- 
ing ;  and  the  disposition  to  learn  the  Gospel  most  favourable. 

In  Frankfort,  several  members  of  Mr.  Stern's  family  have 
professed  their  faith  in  Jesus.  A  nephew  of  Mr.  Stem  thus 
writes  to  a  friend :  **  The  ways  of  the  Lord  are  not  our  ways, 
and  his  thoughts  are  not  our  thoughts.  If  any  one  had  told  us 
seventeen  years  ago,  that  we  should  now  be  united  in  the  bonds 
of  the  faith  in  Christ,  we  should  not  have  believed  him ;  and  see, 
by  our  own  experience  we  have  found,  through  mercy,  that 
nothing  is  too  hard  for  the  Lord." 

The  following  is  very  encouraging.  The  missionary  writes : 
"  June  3.—  On  the  festival  of  the  Ascension,  three  Jews  confessed 
their  faith  in  Christ,  and  were  received  into  the  German  Be- 
formed  Church.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Zimmer,  the  venerable  grey- 
headed pastor,  administered  the  sacred  rite  after  the  usual 
morning  service ;  the  Rev.  Mr.  Schruder  having  first  preached 
an  instructive  sermon  from  Mark  xvi.  19,  20,  '  So  then  after  the 
Lord  had  spoken  unto  them,  he  was  received  up  into  heaven, 
and  sat  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  And  they  went  forth,  and 
preached  every  where,  the  Lord  working  with  them,  and  con- 
firming the  word  with  signs  following.   Amen.* 

*'  A  great  number  of  Jews  were  present.  They  afterwards 
acknowledged  that  the  service  had  convinced  them  that  their 
opinion,  that  every  proselyte  to  the  Christian  faith  is  obliged 
on  his  baptism  to  curse  his  relations,  is  false.** 

Feb.  5 — 10. — The  missionary  also  writes,  **  I  saw  the  Jewish 
merchant  Mr.  H— — ,  at  Temeswar,  who  has  been  some  time 
baptized.  After  a  little  while,  his  father,  sixty  years  old,  to- 
gether with  his  two  brothers  and  two  sisters,  were  baptized ;  and 
they  are  now  all  members  of  the  Reformed  Church." 

"  Another  fair  example  of  the  advancement  of  tti^  tt>s^  Vcl 
Christ  is  the  foUowing  fact :  About  eight  Yeaia«i;go,\)[ife  ^^A^x^ja. 

and  grand-childreR  of  i^abbi  C ,  coniesBed.  \>eiot^  \}si^^a^^ 

their  faith  in  Jesua  Cbriat,  and  were  bapUzftOl.    'XVsje^  ?0\\v^^*>». 
waee  with  the  aged  B^bhi.** 


80  POEM  :    "  HEAVEN." 

Babuch  Leon  Epstein,  who  was  baptized  on  the  llth  < 
thus  expresses  himself:  **  When  my  brother  told  me 
a  Christian,  I  was  stricken  with  horror,  not  knowing  any 
tion  between  a  Christian  and  a  heathen. .  At  last  I  ua 
although  he  was  a  Christian,  he  still  took  the  Bible 
standard  of  his  faith,  (in  my  country  no  one  eyer  dreai 
Christianity  has  anything  to  do  with  the  Bible,)  and  I 
duced  to  compare  several  passages  together,  to  which  he 
me  in  the  Old  and  Kew  Testament.    The  Lord  (^tened  i 
and  I  began  to  see  the  light  shining  in  the  darkness ;  tan 
brother's  advice,  I  engaged  constantly  in  secret  praya 
now  with  all  my  heart,  I  am  prepared  publicly  to  emb 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  our  Propitiator  and  Be 
For  his  Bake  I  am  ready  to  sacrifice  all  my  worldly  pv 
yea,  even  to  lay  down  my  life. 

"  Oh  !  who  would  ever  have  expected,  that  I  with  my 
from  so  remote  a  country,  and  where  darkness  reigii%  d 
brought  to  the  true  light !  But  the  Lord  knows  how  ti 
his  children  from  all  the  ends  of  the  earth.  0  God  1  gnai 
my  dear  relatives  and  friends,  who  are  yet  far  from  thOQ^ 
brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  which  is  life 


HEAVEI^. 


"  We  sing  of  the  realms  of  the  blest. 

That  country  so  bright  and  so  fair  ! 
And  oft  are  its  glories  confessed — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  ? 

'*  We  speak  of  its  pathways  of  gold. 
Its  walls  deck'd  with  jewels  so  rare ; 
Its  wonders  and  pleasures  untold — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  1 


€t 


We  speak  of  its  freedom  from  sin, 
From  sorrow,  temptation,  and  care; 

From  trials,  without  and  within — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  1 


"  We  speak  of  its  service  of  love ; 

The  robes  which  the  glorified  wear; 
The  church  of  the  first-born  above — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  ? 

"  Dear  liord,  Mm^eX  T^\«a»M^  ot  -^^sfc. 
For  heaven,  out  s^vrA^  Y^wfc\ 
Then,  Boon^eaha\\*^oi^^^>«'W»;7 
And /eel  i^hsA  V\.  V^\«\>^^^^«^^ 


SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


We  do  not  meet  with  tlie  name  Elephant  in  Scrip- 
re.  Some  think  that  Behemoth,  menlionod  in  Jub 
^  15,  ia  the  Elephant.  Others  are  of  opinion,  that 
e  description  given  in  this  chapter  ia  more  applic- 
ile  to  the  Sea-horse,  or  the  Skinoceros,  than  to  the 
lephant  Though  the  name  Elephant  ia  not  a^'^nVxci^^^ 
Scripture,  yet  ivory,  the  productioa  oi  "CKia  %s\c>- 
biag  animal,  ia  oflea  introduced  to  out  Tiotv;^ '^1 '^'=> 
vred  writers. 


82  SCRIPTURE   NATURAL   HISTORY. 

The  Elephant  is  a  native  of  Africa  and  Asia,  and 
is  only  found  in  other  quarters  of  the  globe  by  impor- 
tation. As  the  whale  is  the  largest  animal  in  the 
ocean,  the  Elephant  is  the  largest  on  dry  land.  They 
are  often  from  seventeen  to  twenty  feet  in  height 
The  head  is  large,  and  somewhat  resembling  the  shape 
of  an  egg  ;  it  is  without  fore-teeth.  Two  tusks  are 
projected  from  the  upper  jaw ;  they  are  long,  thick, 
and  curved.  These  tusks  form  the  ivory,  which  is  so 
highly  valued,  and  so  extensively  used  in  works  of  art 
throughout  the  civilized  world.  In  each  jaw  there  are 
four  grinders  of  great  size.  For  an  animal  so  large 
the  eyes  are  exceedingly  small ;  while  the  ears  are  of 
considerable  magnitude,  hanging  down  upon  the  side 
of  its  head.  This  huge  creature  has  scarcely  a  ned; 
on  which  account  the  head  cannot  reach  the  gronnd 
either  for  eating  or  drinking.  But  Providence  has 
furnished  it  wi^  a  remarkable  member,  namely,  a 
proboscis,  and  which  serves  a  variety  of  the  most  usefbl 
and  necessary  purposes.  This  member  is  very  curiously 
and  wisely  formed  ;  it  is  a  cylindrical  trunk,  or  hollow 
tube — fleshy,  muscular,  strong — can  be  moved  in  any 
direction,  like  a  hand ;  it  is  exceedingly  flexible,  can 
bend  in  any  direction,  and  it  can  be  stretched  out  from 
one  to  five  feet.  By  means  of  this  trunk  it  fetches 
water  and  food,  which  it  deposits  in  the  mouth  with 
amazing  accuracy  and  dexterity  ;  it  can  lift  by  it  from 
the  ground  the  smallest  object,  and  with  the  utmost 
ease  can  break  branches  of  trees  to  pieces.  It  is  also 
employed  as  a  means  of  defence,  and  of  severely 
punishing  whomsoever  it  considers  an  enemy.  The 
female  bears  a  resemblance  to  the  human  species, 
as  it  has  two  mammce  on  its  breast,  by  which  it 
suckles  its  young.  The  skin  of  the  Elephant  is  wrinkled, 
hairless,  and  of  a  mouse-like  colour.  The  tail  is  short, 
and  the  feet  thick  ^ind  a\.icQi\i«,  ^wih  having  five  hoofe. 
It  is  remarkable  iox  \oTk«<iV\\.^,  ^\x^\i^^  ^asg^Ritr^ 
affection,  fidelity,  §x2A\X\i^^,  ^q^y^Vj,  ^^  ^^^^  w^ 
desty. 


SEBHON.  83 

Elephants  in  Eastern  countries  are  still  educated  for 
useful  purposes — ^for  carrying  commodities  with  its 
trunk  from  one  place  to  another,  and  even  for  lading 
and  unlading  ships.  When  treated  with  kindness 
they  are  gentle  ;  hut  when  provoked,  awfully  for- 
midahle.  With  one  blow  of  their  trunk  they  can 
strike  a  horse  dead.  Anciently,  they  were  much 
used  in  war,  and  towers  were  placed  on  their  backs, 
each  one  of  which,  it  is  said,  was  capable  of  containing 
forty  warriors. 

They  prefer  for  their  abode  and  haunts,  plains, 
forests,  gently  rising  hills,  and  the  shady  banks  of 
rivers. 

When  they  find  death  approaching,  in  their  wild  and 
natural  state,  they  bend  their  course,  if  possible,  to  a 
retired  valley,  shaded  with  magnificent  trees,  near  a 
peaceful  river,  where  numerous  generations  of  their 
ancestors  have  expired  !  "  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are 
thy  works  !  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all  I " 


SERMON    VI. 

NO    NIGHT     IN     HEAVEN. 


"And  there ahaXl  he  no  night  there." — Sev.  xxii.  5. 

When  a  little  boy  was  dying,  his  mother  was  weeping 

by  his  bed-side.     He  said,  "  Mother,  weep  not  for  me, 

for  I  am  going  to  heaven,  and  I  shall  soon  be  there." 

He  was  on  the  very  brink  of  heaven,  and  soon  reached 

that 

"flappy  land. 
Far,  &r  away, 
Where  saints  in  glory  Btaud, 
Bright,  bright  as  ip,jr 


64  SERMON. 

Yes,  he  soon  reached  that  blessed  land;  of  which  it 
is  said  in  our  text,  "  There  shall  be  no  night  there.** 
If  we  speitk  of  heaven  in  the  past,  there  never  was 
night  there.  If  we  speak  of  heaven  in  the  present^ 
thwe  is  HO  night  there.  If  we  speak  of  heaven  in  the 
Jkture,  "  There  shall  be  no  night  there." 

The  Word  night  has  the  following  meanings,  or  signi- 
fications. When  the  son  sets  and  leaves  the  sky,  it  is 
night,  literal  night.  That  is,  a  time  of  darkness  and 
gloom.  That  is  the  time  when  human  beings  retire  to 
sleep  and  rest.  That  is  the  time  when  hawks,  and 
owls,  and  eagles,  and  lions,  and  tigers,  and  leopards, 
seek,  fall  upon,  and  devour  their  prey. 

But  night,  in  Scripture,  has  a  Jigurative,  as  well  as 
a  literal  meaning.  A  time  of  ianorance  and  unbelief 
is  called  night,  Rom.  xiii.  12  :  "  The  night  is  far  spent.** 
That  is,  the  night  of  ignorance  and  unbehef  is  fast 
passing  away,  by  means  of  the  increasing  brightness  of 
the  Crospel  day.  Therefore  the  Apostle  «ays,  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  verse,  "  Let  us  cast  off  the  works  of 
darkness.'*  That  is,  "  let  us  put  off  ignorance  and  un- 
belief.'* And  he  adds,  "  let  us  put  on  the  armour  of 
light."  That  is,  "  let  us  put  on  the  bright  raiment  of 
Divine  knowledge  and  faith." 

Night  often  means  a  time  of  adversity,  affliction,  and 
sorrow.  Isa.  xxi.  12:  "The  watchman  said.  The 
morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night.'*  That  is,  the 
night  of  affliction  and  sorrow. 

And  night  signifies  death.  Our  Saviour  says,  John 
ix.  4  :  "I  must  work  the  works  of  him  that  sent  me, 
while  it  is  day :  the  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can 
work."    That  is,  the  night  of  death  t 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  now  proceed 

to  show  that  in  heaven  there  shall  be  no  night  of  m^ 

no  night  oi  ignorance,  no  night  of  temptation,  no  night 

of  disease,  no  night  of  desertion,  wid  no  night  of  death. 

I.  In  heaven  theTe  skall  \>^  tio  m^x.  q1  %m.  "^^ 

rounff  friends,  pay  particxAat  «lt\»XL^^Ti'*a^^^^^s^ 

hacrfption  o£  sin.    N^\i^t  U  sinl    \  m^^^x,%«.^3 


\s^ 


Q£BMOX.  85 

the  keat't^  is  the  hatred  of  all  that  is  good,  and  the 
love  of  all  that  is  evil.  Sin  in  the  life  consists  of  all 
load  of  b^  actions  committed  against  God  and  man  s 
hut  the  very  essence  of  sin  is  enmity  against  God. 
Every  sinful  thought  flows  from  this ;  and  every  sinful 
action  proceeds  &om  this  enmity  against  Grod.  All 
gziaceless  children  are  in  the  dark  night  of  sin.  Ob) 
it  is  a  dark  night !  Satan,  the  prince  of  darkness 
and  sin,  sits  on  the  face  of  the  dark  and  gloomy  sky  of 
sin  ;  and  he  employs  all  his  power  to  prevent  one 
4ngle  ray  of  light  from  visiting  that  dark  firmament 
of  fiin. 

As  there  is  no  darkness  in  the  unclouded  sky  at 
Qoon-day,  so  there  is  no  darkness  of  sin  in  the  bright 
^y  of  spotless  holiness  in  heaven.  There  are  no  sinful 
thoughts  in  heaven.  There  are  no  sinful  affections  and 
(lesii;es  in  heaven.  There  are  no  sinful  passions  and 
polluted  lusts  in  heaven.  There  are  no  sinful  actions 
in  hei^ven.     There  are  no  sinful  beings  in  heaven. 

"  Pure  are  the  joys  above  the  sky. 
And  all  the  region  peace  ; 
No  wanton  lips,  nor  envious  eye, 
Can  see  or  taste  the  bliss. 

"  Those  holy  gates  for  ever  bar 
Pollution,  sin,  and  shame ; 
None  shall  obtain  admittance  there. 
But  followers  of  the  Lamb.'* 

Ask  the  dying,  pious  child,  why  he  longs  to  enter 
heaven.  He  will  answer,  "I  long  to  enter  heaven, 
9ot  only  because  it  is  a  happy  place,  but  because  it  is 
a  holy  place  ;  because  there  is  no  night  of  sin  there  I  '* 
Blessed  Spirit,  grant  that  this  may  be  the  desire  of  our 
heart ! 

IL  In  heaven  there  shall  be  no  night  of  ignorances 
There  are  various  kinds  of  darkness,    Tbesc^  ^  ^^KtV.- 
oesis  which  belongs  to  the  bodyi  and  daxVLtL^'&  n9\sv5^ 
belongs  to  the  soul.     Knowledge  ia  ll[ie  llgUt  o1  NJs^fe 
ouJ;  ignorance  is  the  dark  night  o£  ftie  ftwiV-    '^^^^ 


86  SERMON. 

ranee  of  God,  of  the  soul,  of  Chiifit,  of  salvation,  is 
indeed  a  dark,  gloomy  night.  But  there  is  no  night  of 
ignorance  in  heaven.  AH  heaven  is  filled  with  the 
bright,  the  glorious  rays  of  Divine  knowledge.  When 
the  soul  of  a  child  is  admitted  into  heaven,  it  is  sur- 
rounded with  the  light,  and  it  is  filled  with  the  light  of 
Divine  knowledge.  In  one  moment  that  child  hai 
more  knowledge,  more  light,  than  the  greatest  philoso- 
pher— ^than  the  holiest  and  most  learned  minister  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  There  are  four  books  which  the 
glorified  child  can  read  in  heaven,  in  a  way  which  the 
most  learned  saint  is  not  able  to  read  them  on  eartL 
Do  you  ask  me,  What  are  these  books  ?  The  first  is 
the  book  of  God's  purposes;  the  second  is  the  book 
of  creation;  the  third  is  the  book  of  providence;  the 
fourth  is  the  book  of  redemption.  In  this  world 
there  is  so  much  darkness  of  ignorance,  that  the  most 
learned  can  read  but  very  little  of  these  four  won- 
derful books ;  they  can  only,  as  it  were,  read  a  few 
lines ;  but  in  heaven,  surrounded  with  glorious  light, 
the  youngest  child  shall  extensively  read  and  under- 
stand these  glorious  books. 

In  the  prospect  of  heaven,  where  there  is  no  night 
of  ignorance,  may  we  be  enabled  to  pray — 

"Ye  wheels  of  nature^  speed  your  course  ! 
Ye  mortal  powere,  decay  1 
Fast  as  ye  bring  the  night  of  death. 
Ye  bring  eternal  day." 

III.  There  shall  be  no  night  of  temptation  in 
heaven.  This  life  is  full  of  temptations  to  sin.  As 
there  are  many  temptations,  there  are  many  tempten,  i 
The  corrupt  heart  is  a  tempter ;  corrupt  speech  is  t 
tempter  ;  corrupt  companions  are  tempters  ;  the  world 
is  a  tempter ;  and  Satan  is  the  prince  of  tempters 
See  then  what  a  daik  ii\^\.  ^^  ^Am^^tation  is  this  Ufe^ 
in  which  there  are  ao  m«iv^  \k!k^\ssk^  «si^  ^i^i  ^sasK^ 

temptations. 

•    lliere    are  no  tem^teta  Va  Vt^w^,  %»a.  '^iscte 


SERMON.  87 

there  are  no  temptations.  There  is  no  corrupt  heart 
n  heaven.  Oh  blessed  place  !  There  is  no  corrupting 
;peech^  there  is  no  corrupting  world  in  heaven.  Oh 
)lessed  place  1  There  is  no  tempting  Satan  in  heaven. 
)h.  blessed  place  !  If  the  clouds  of  temptation  here  are 
hick  and  dark,  they  are  never  seen  in  heaven.  There 
re  none  of  these  clouds  to  fill  the  heavenly  sky  with 
:Ioon),  or  the  minds  of  the  blessed  inhabitants  with 
ain.  Young  friends,  endeavour  to  sing  in  the  pro- 
pect  of  such  blessedness  : — 

"  Thus  will  we  mount  on  sacred  wings, 
And  tread  the  courts  above ; 
Nor  earth,  nor  all  her  mightiest  things. 
Shall  tempt  our  meanest  love." 

IV.  There  shall  be  no  night  of  disease  in  heaven.  This 
rorld,  indeed,  presents  a  dark  night  of  disease  ;  and  it 
las  been  a  long  night ;  it  has  lasted  nearly  six  thou- 
and  years.  Have  you  not  often  observed,  my  young 
riends,  the  ^effects  of  disease  ?  Have  you  not  often 
►bserved  what  disease  has  done  to  the  bodies  of  men  ? 
.t  takes  away  the  sight  of  the  eyes,  the  hearing  of  the 
tar,  the  beauty  of  the  countenance.  Oh  how  affecting 
t  is  to  see  a  little  boy  blind,  and  another  deaf  and 
lamb  !  How  affecting  to  see  another  deformed  and 
ame,  scarcely  able  to  walk  along  !  How  affecting  to 
lee  one  child  dying  of  the  scarlet  fever,  another  of  the 
imall  pox,  another  of  consumption,  and  another  of 
neasles  !  Do  you  ask  me.  Whence  came  these  frightful 
liseases  ?  I  answer,  Sin  has  brought  them.  It  is  sin 
nrhich  has  made  this  world  a  dark  night  of  disease.  But 
there  is  no  sin  in  heaven,  and  therefore  there  is  no 
night  of  disease,  or  sickness,  or  pain  there.  Disease 
sends  holy  children  to  heaven,  but  there  is  no  disease 
in  heaven.  Holy  children  breathe  in  heaven  a  pure 
air,  and  it  is  more  delicious  than  the  fragcancie  oC  yq^a^. 
They  drink  the  water  of  life  in  Yiea'vexL — \\i^^.  ^\«:^ 
^ater  of  life,  which  Hows  from  the  tYvroae  o^  ^^^  ^"^^ 
\e  Lamb.     What  is  heavea  ?    It  is  a  ^\ac^  o^  ^\.ex\is^ 


88  SERMON. 

health,  and  of  immortal  life.     May  you  and  I  enjoy  tk 
following  lovely  lines  : — 

"  No  gnawing  grief,  no  sad  heart-rending  pain, 
In  Uiat  blest  country  can  admission  gain  ! 
Here  the  fair  tree  of  life  majestic  rears 
Its  blooming  head,  and  sovereign  yirtue  bears." 

V.  There  shall  be  no  night  of  sorrow  in  heaven,  f 
What  does  holy  David  call  the  present  life?  He 
calls  it  a  **  night  of  rcee'ping^  Psal.  xxx.  5.  He  says, 
*'  Weeping  may  endure  for  a  night."  Weeping  means 
sorrow.  Weeping  does  not  merely  mean  shedding 
tears.  A  man  may  weep  bitterly  with  his  soul,  when 
he  cannot  shed  a  tear  with  his  body. 

Dear  young  friends,  many  things  make  this  life  to 
the  believer  a  night  of  sorrow.  Observe  the  following. 
A  believer  is  made  sorrowful  by  the  sins  of  his  own  f 
heart,  and  by  the  blemishes  of  his  own  life.  In  hea- 
ven, the  heart  has  no  corruption,  and  the  life  has  no 
blemishes.  Here,  a  believer  is  made  sorrowful  by  the 
temptations  of  Satan,  and  by  the  language  and  sinfnl 
actions  of  wicked  men.  In  heaven  there  is  no  tempt- 
ing Satan,  and  no  wicked  men  are  found  there.  Here, 
believers  are  often  sorrowful  on  account  of  ungodly 
relatives,  who  cause  the  briny  tears  of  grief  to  run 
down  their  cheeks.  In  heaven  all  its  inhabitants  are 
pure  and  spotless,  blessed  and  glorious. 

Ye  little  children  who  have  given  your  hearts  to 
Jesus,  where  are  you  going  ?  You  are  going  to  hea- 
ven, the  holy  and  the  happy  land.  There,  your  robes 
shall  be  whiter  than  the  mountain's  snow.  There^ 
your  golden  harps  shall  be  for  ever  tuned  to  celebrate 
Jehovah's  praise.  Because  there  is  no  night  of  soiioir 
there^  but  a  day  of  endless  blessedness  and  joy,  yoa 
shall  sing  in  sweetest  strains  the  praises  of  your  Saviour 
and  your  God : — 

*'  Before  the  thioTie  ^  cr^^\»X  A^et  ^^^, 
Immortal  veiduxe  ^ecV&\\a  <3t^wsSxiN.^^^\ 
No  sorrow  there,  iioftou\A»Tm«Q.^m^'l^T, 

For  God'B  oi^u\iWid^\i%X\^^^^^^>^^^««^ 


SSBMOX.  89 

VI.  There  is  no  night  of  death  in  heaven.  The 
Wlowing  verse  is  peculiarly  lovely  and  delightful, 
'f  you  compare  the  pages  of  the  Bible  to  the  sky^  this 
'erse  shines  in  the  sacred  shy  of  the  Bible  like  a 
•right  sun.  It  is,  Hev.  xxi.  4 :  "  And  God  shall  wipe 
way  all  tears  from  their  eyes  ;  and  there  shall  be  isio 
:ORE  DEATH,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall 
lere  be  any  more  pain :  for  the  former  things  are 
assed  away."  May  this  blessed  verse  be  engraven 
a  our  hearts  !  When  we  read  it,  may  we  believe  it, 
id  enjoy  it.  May  we  so  feel  its  influence  and  power, 
lat  we  shall  long  to  enter  that  holy,  happy  land, 
here  the  dark  night  of  death  is  unknown  for  ever. 

This  world  is  the  land  of  the  dying  !  The  mo- 
lent  a  babe  begins  to  live,  it  begins  to  die.  How 
ften  do  we  meet  upon  the  streets  young  and  old, 
hose  pale  countenances,  and  emaciated  cheeks,  and 
ow,  feeble,  tottering  steps,  show  that  they  are  dying, 
ad  hastening  to  the  grave.  But  no  such  sights  are 
aen  in  heaven.  For  in  heaven  there  is  no  night  of 
icath.  It  is  very  solemn  and  touching  to  the  feelings 
f  the  heart  to  see  the  funeral  procession  passing  along 
he  streets,  moving  onward  to  the  burying-places  of  the 
lead.  At  one  time,  we  see  the  funeral  of  a  little  babe. 
[t  lived  only  a  few  weeks,  and  then  died  !  At  another 
ime  we  see  the  funeral  of  a  youth  about  sixteen  years 
)f  age.  Oh  how  his  parents  loved  him  !  He  was 
;heir  only  son.  But  death  came,  and  in  a  moment  cut 
lown  the  hopeful  flower.  Now  it  lies  withered  in  the 
^ave  !  And  at  another  time  we  see  the  funeral  of  a 
ather.  He  died  in  the  very  prime  of  life.  He  has 
eft  behind  him  a  widow,  with  her  fatherless  children. 
[)h  how  they  wept,  when  he  closed  his  eyes  in  death  ! 
But  no  such  sights  are  seen  in  heaven.  The  dark  night 
)f  death  is  there  for  ever  unknown. 

"  Holy  Spirit,  inspire  our  hearts  with.  M\k  m  S^'soa* 
IS  our  Saviour,  and  in  heaven  as  out  Vomer     ^\!\!»»a 
mjr  we  express  the  wishes  and  expec\.a\\oTka  oi  ^^« 
uls  : — 


90  SEBMON. 

**  How  long,  dear  Saviour,  oh  how  long. 
Shall  this  bright  hour  delay? 
Fly  swifter  round,  ye  wheels  of  time, 
And  bring  the  welcome  day  !" 


J 


i: 


i 


CONCLUSION. 

1st.  Have  you  begun  your  journey  to  heaven  ?  Some 
children  have  begun  this  blessed  journey  very  soon.   |^ 
And  these  children  are  peculiarly  blessed.  The  journey 
of  many  of  them  has  been  very  short,  and  before  they 
have  been  six  years  of  age,  they  have  entered  their 
heavenly  home.     They  have  taken  their  place  with 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  God 
Have  you  begun  your  journey  to  heaven  ?     If  not, 
why  have  you  delayed  ?    I  can  tell  you.     You  hafe 
listened  to  Satan's  counsels.     You  have  listened  to  the 
corruptions  of  your  own  heart.     And  if  you  continue   i 
listening  to  these  counsellors,  and  die  listening  to  them,    ^ 
you  never  can  enter  heaven,  you  never  can  escape 
hell. 

2d.  Jesus  is  given  as  a  leader  and  a  commander, 
to  guide  the  young  to  heaven.  Isa.  Iv.  4  :  "Behold, 
I  have  given  him  for  a  witness  to  the  people,  a  leader 
and  commander  to  the  people."  May  the  Holy  Spirit 
pei'suade  and  enable  you  to  commit  yourself  to  Jesus' 
care  ;  and  as  a  shepherd  leads  his  flock,  he  will  letd  ] 
you,  and  never  leave  you,  till  he  conduct  you  into  the 
heaven  of  heavens,  to  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 

*'  Behold,  he  comes !  your  Leader  corned. 
With  might  and  honour  crown*d ; 
A  witness  who  shall  spread  my  name 
To  earth's  remotest  bound. 

''  See  !  nations  hasten  to  his  call^ 
From  every  distant  shore ; 
Isles,  yet  unluxown,  shall  bow  to  him. 
And  Israel's  God  adore." 


< 


91 


TAMES  AOT)  TITLES  OF  JESUS,  ALPHABETICALLY 

ARRANGED. 

In  Number  16  of  this  Work,  we  considered  the  following 
mes  of  Christ,  beginning  with  the  letter  B, — Bishop,  Blessed, 
■ead.  Breaker,  and  Bridegroom.  We  will  now  consider  the 
lowing  names  beginning  with  the  same  letter  —  Bright- 
38,  Brother,  Buckler,  Builder,  and  Burden-bearer.  May  our 
ercise  be  blessed  1  May  the  names  of  Christ  be  more  fragrant 
our  souls  than  the  most  odoriferous  flowers  to  the  weary  pil- 
jn,  travelling  through  the  parched  desert.  May  his  names  be 
OS  "  as  ointment  poured  forth."  Song  i.  3. 
BrigMness  is  one  of  our  Saviour's  names.  Heb.  i.  3  ;  "  Who 
jag  the  Brightness  of  his  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image 
hifi  Person."  Do  you  ask  me.  How  is  this  the  case  1  I  answer, 
L  the  gloiy  the  Father  has,  Jesus  has.  The  Father  has  glorious 
idom,  power,  holiness,  justice,  goodness,  and  truth.  The  Son 
}  the  same,  precisely  the  same.  Besides,  the  bright  gloiy  of 
»  Father  is  shown  and  displayed  by  the  Son. 
3o  bright  is  Christ,  that  he  is  compared  to  a  star.  Rev.  xxii.  16 : 
am  the  bright  and  Morning  Star.''  So  great  and  glorious  is 
xist*s  brightness,  that  he  is  called  a  Sun.  Mai.  iv.  2  :  '*  But 
to  you  that  fear  my  name  shall  the  Sun  of  righteousness  arise 
th  healing  in  his  wings."  Let  us  look  on  Christ's  brightness, 
d  then  say  with  the  heart, — 

"  Brightness  of  the  Father's  glory, 
Shall  thy  praise  unutter'd  lie  ? 
Fly,  my  tongue,  such  guilty  silence, 
Sing  the  Lord  that  came  to  die. 

Hallelujah,  Hallelujah.    Amen !" 

Brother  is  one  of  our  Saviour's  names.  Prov.  xvii.  17:  "A 
end  loveth  at  all  times,  and  a  Brother  is  bom  for  adversity." 
ow  can  Jesus  be  our  Brother]  He  took  upon  him  our  nature, 
id  thus  became  our  Brother.  Thus  he  became  "the First-bom 
aong  many  brethren."  Some  of  us  have  no  earthly  brother ; 
it  blessed  are  we  if  we  can  say,  "  Our  Brother  is  Christ." 
Jesus  has  a  brother's  hexirt.  His  heart  is  ftdl  of  love.  The 
id  of  the  ocean  is  fiill  of  water ;  the  firmament  is  full  of  stars : 
it,  what  is  infinitely  more  wonderful,  the  heart  of  Jesus  is  full  of 

ve. 

Jesus  has  a  brother's  eye.     It  is  delightful  to  see  an  elder 

'Other  looking  with  tenderness  and  affection,  on  loi^  ^ciiva^gsL 

■others  and  sistera :  and  more  particularVy  \i  \\i!&vc  {%\Xi^t  V^ 

epin^  in  the  grave  !    Oh,  what  a  loving  eye  \a  ^2fcL'&  «3^  ^"^ 

riat  f   Dear  children,  behold  and  adxmie  CVoiaV^YoN^^  ,\QrTV5i% 

/ 


92     NAMES  OF  CHBIST  ALPHABETICALLY  ABRANGED. 

Jesus  has  a  brother^s  hand.  What  a  hand  !  It  is  a  leading 
hand,  a  protecting  hiuid,  a  comforting  hand,  a  helping  hand 

Jesus  has  a  hrotiieT'sfnendeJiip,  You  may  conyerse  with  him 
by  night  and  by  day.  Ton  are  always  welcome.  Go  to  the 
Bible  and  meet  with  him.  Go  to  the  Sanctuaiy  and  meet  with 
him.  Blessed,  blessed  is  that  child  who  has  fellowship  with 
Christ !    Such  children  can  say  and  sing: — 

<<  Though  now  ascended  up  on  high. 
He  bendtf  on  earth  a  brother's  eye ; 
Partaker  of  the  human  name, 
He  knows  the  frailty  of  our  frame." 

Buckler  is  another  name  of  Jesus.  Psal.  xriii.  2  :  ''  The  Lgri 
is  my  Bti^ckler"  What  is  a  Imckier  literally  ]  It  was  a  piece  tf 
armoar,  which  in  ancient  times  the  soldier  had  upon  his  lA 
arm  for  defence.  It  was  fixed  with  hiickies,  and  hence  itiv 
called  a  bucJder.  The  use  of  a  buckler  is  to  defend.  Chlldnft 
are  in  danger  from  sin,  Satan,  and  the  world,  the  enemies  of  tin 
soul.  When  children  place  their  dependence  on  Jesus,  he  ii  jj^ 
their  Buckler,  and  he  defends  them  &om  all  their  enemies.  Let 
me,  therefore,  beseech  yon  to  ask  Jesus  to  be  your  Buckler  of  da- 
fence.  If  you  pray  to  him  with  sincerity  of  heart,  you  will  sa4 
pray  in  vain.  Ms^  you  be  taught  to  sing  joyfidly  with  your 
heaxt, — 

"  He  that  hath  made  his  buckler  God, 
Shall  find  a  most  secure  abode ; 
Shall  rest  all  day  beneath  his  shade. 
And  there  at  night  shall  rest  his  head.*' 

Builder  is  another  name  of  Christ.    Jesus  is  God  as  weU» 

man,  and  therefore  the  following  texts  are  strictly  true  of  Christ 

Heb.  iu.4:  "He  that  built  all  things  is  God."    Heb.xilO: 

"  For  he  looked  for  a  city  that  hath  foundations  whose  BuUder 

and  M^er  is  God."    See  what  a  mighty,  what  a  wondeifiil 

Builder  is  Christ.    Consider  what  he  has  built.     Our  body  ii 

called  an  house,  an  earthly  house.    He  built  this  earthly  house 

out  of  the  dust.    What  has  he  built  t    He  has  built  the  worid. 

Oh,  how  powerful !    He  only  spake,  and  the  world  appeared. 

He  made  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars.    What  a  mighty,  wiiat  a 

wonderful  Builder  I    He  hath  built  the  heaven  of  heavens.  This 

is  the  palace  of  the  great  King.    It  is  the  royal  residence  of 

Jehovah.    How  kind  and  gracious  is  Jesus,  the  almighty,  the 

wonderful  Builder.    He  is  willing  to  lead  little  children  to  this 

glorious  heavenly  -palace  \  tVet^  Vi  \v??^  tsst  ^-^r^t  and  ever.    Mi^ 

you  and  I  meet  in  t\iat  ^Q^Aafift  \  KJaKa.-^^  >fiB»a.  ^«fe  ^3te3Nfii»\a.\a 

glory:  then  we  shall  B\ime\m%\i^^2Qaa^^'i^%x»s^\^^^^ 

erer:    In  the  prospect  ot  m^\J^i&  \Xi«fe,  V^  x«^^^Vs,(W&^v- 


OBITVABT.  93 

"  There  is  a  house  not  mad^  with  hands, 
Eternal  and  on  high ; 
And  here  my  spirit  waiting  stands, 
TiU  God  shaU  make  it  fly." 

as  is  a  Burden-hearer,  Though  we  do  not  meet  with 
larae  in  Scripture,  we  meet  in  Scripture  what  amounts  to 
jne  thing.  In  Psal.  Iv.  3,  it  is  said,  ^*  Cast  thy  burden  upon 
ord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee.'*  There,  Christ  is  presented 
i  ns  as  a  bearer  of  burdens.  When  Jesus  dwelt  on  earth, 
ipeared  as  a  bearer  of  burdens.  Oh,  what  tremendous 
ns  he  bore  !  burdens  which  would  have  sunk  the  mightiest 
^Is  into  the  lowest  hell !  He  bore  the  burdens  of  sin,  of 
of  sorrow,  of  wrath,  and  of  death.  Isa.  liii.  4  :  "  Surely  he 
>ome  our  griefs,  and  carried  our  sorrows.  The  Lord  hath 
n  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all."  When  Jesus  was  led  to  be 
Led,  he  bore  the  burden  of  his  cross.  And  when  he  was 
I  to  the  cross,  he  bore  the  burden  of  our  sins.  One  said 
Lear  little  child  who  was  dying,  "Are  you  afraid  to  die  V* 
no,"  she  said ;  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  because  Christ 
ny  sins  1"  Dear  young  friends,  Jesus  as  the  Burderirbearer, 
ipon  you  to  come  to  himself,  and  he  will  kindly  bear  all 
burdens,  and  give  you  rest.    He  says, — 

*'  Come  hither,  all  ye  weary  souls. 
Ye  heavy-burden'd  children,  come ; 
I'll  give  yon  rest  from  all  your  toils. 
And  jaiM  you  to  my  heavenly  home." 

lie  Holy  Spirit  enable  you  to  give  the  following  answer : — 

**  Jesns,  we  come  at  thy  command. 
With  £edth,  and  hope,  and  humble  zeal ; 
Resign  our  souls  into  thine  hand, 
To  mould  and  guide  us  at  thy  wUl." 

{To  he  continued,) 


rUARY  OP  J.  J.  W.  BACON,  A  SABBATH  SCHOOL 

TEACHER, 


67   HIS   BROTHEB. 


r  dear  brother  was  bom  in  the  City  of  Lincoln.,  5\»afe'%^'CDL, 
,    At  the  age  of  four  years  and  a  kali  it  ^'ft^aftA-Qso^  N» 
his  fktber  from  him,  after  having  "been,  m  Xionj^oa.  ^ftsRPoS. 
lonths.    My  dear  mother  endeavoxiTed  to  tra&si\sASfiL^°^^ 
rcftbe  Lord,  and  camniitted  him  to  li\ft  tenj^^c  cax^>^^^ 


e^ 


I. 


94  OBITUARY. 

never  suffered  him  to  wander  from  the  paths  of  yirbue.  He  lu 
always  of  a  kind  and  affectionate  disposition,  and  particularly 
manifested  that  spirit  to  the  Lord's  people  as  he  advanced  in 
years. 

.  At  the  age  of  seven  years  he  entered  the  Sabbath  School, 
in  connexion  with  Fell  Street  Chapel,  under  the  ministiy  i  |% 
the  Bev.  B.  Stodhart,  where  he  continued  until  it  pleased  Qd 
in  his  providence  to  remove  us  to  King  Street  Chapel,  where  tli 
ministry  of  the  Bev.  B.  Woodyard  was  made  a  blessing  to  Ui 
soul,  and  the  means  of  bringing  him  to  a  knowledge  of  tk 
truth.  At  that  time  he  was  an  active  teacher  in  the  Sabbi& 
School.  |ut 

The  cause  being  given  up  at  King  Street,  we  went  to  Wydift 
Chapel,  where  the  ministiy  of  Dr.  Beed  was  much  blessed  U 
him,  after  which  he  was  enabled  to  offer  himself  as  a  candidili 
for  Church  fellowship,  and  was  admitted  a  member.    He  entoni  |i^ 
the  Bible  class,  and  remained  there  until  chosen  a  teacher  of  tki 
Sabbath  School,  where  he  fulfilled  the  duties  of  his  office  irtft 
love  and  zeal;  for  from  his  infancy  he  dearly  loved  &ibbfll 
Schools  until  his  death.    He  was  well  aware  of  his  imperfeetioi^    L' 
and  often  deplored  them.    He  left  his  home  in  perfect  h^tl^ii 
half-past  nine  in  the  morning,  and  at  about  eleven  was  taken  to 
the  London  Hospital,  having  fallen  a  depth  of  nineteen  ftei   is^ 
There  he  lingered  a  fortnight,  when  he  sweetly  fell  adeep  a 
Jesus,  on  the  24th  of  October,  1847,  aged  twenty-four  years  and 
four  months.    His  end  was  perfect  peace,  relying  on  Christ. 


t 
i 


A  few  of  the  Remarhs  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  my  dear  hro- 
ther,  during  Hie  short  time  he  toas  permitted  to  lie  on  Ht 
death-bed  in  the  London  Hospital, 

To  a  friend  he  said,  "  My  heavenly  Father  hath  kindly  pff- 
mitted  me  to  rest  awhile  on  my  journey ;  probably  this  will  be 
the  last  inn  I  may  stop  at  before  He  takes  me  to  those  manaiou 
of  bliss  where  I  shall  go  no  more  out."  When  speaking  of  tbe 
mysterious  dispensations  of  Providence  relative  to  his  temponl 
afHurs,  he  said,  *'  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,  but  it  is  all 
for  the  best ;  I  can  leave  all  in  the  hands  of  my  covenant  God  ' 
and  Father,  who  doeth  all  things  well."  When  alluding  to  his 
accident,  he  said,  *'  Should  I  be  called  to  suffer  more  acute  pain 
than  I  do  at  present,  the  Lord  will  give  me  strengUi  to  endure  it 
with  patience  and  resignation." 

When  speaking  of  the  kindness  of  friends  and  the  comforts 

with  which  he  was  surrounded,  he  said, ''  They  were  all  sips  of 

the  brook  by  the  way,  %xid.  Wi%.\>  X^Iq'n^Vsii^V!^ V^^i^ed  he  should 

be  permitted  to  diini.  a.\i  \Ax2A.l^c3wsi\aM!L^\i^s«»  ^sEnwrns^vc^^ussm. 

drr  *' 
On.  the  Saturdajbefow  \ua  ^««Sb.V*  xwaw\«A^«'^w»««« 


OBITUARY.  95 

e  Sabbath,  and  what  a  blessed  Sabbath  shall  I  spend  in 
m  !  no  more  sin  nor  Buffering  there  ! 

*0h  happy  hour  !  oh  bless'd  abode  ! 
I  shall  be  there,  and  like  my  God.'" 

a  asked  if  he  thought  he  should  get  better,  he  replied,  "  It 
not  trouble  me."  When  asked,  while  in  great  agony,  if  he 
lappy,  he  said,  "  Oh  yes  !  happy,  happy,  waiting  to  depart 
be  with  Christ,  which  is  fiir  better ;  for  He  was  slain,  and 

redeemed  me  by  his  precious  blood."  To  mother  he  re- 
ed, "  Your  family  circle  will  be  small,  but  it  will  only  be 
short  time,  for  the  longest  life  is  but  a  span.  God  grant  we 
all  meet  in  heaven ;  there  we  shall  know  and  love  each 

better  than  we  have  while  here  below ;  that's  the  blessing." 
5  asked  if  he  was  anxious  to  depart,  he  replied,  "  Wishing 
it  the  Lord's  time."    He  earnestly  entreated  many  to  im- 

it  on  the  minds  of  the  young  to  work  in  the  Lord's  vine- 
;  he  said,  "  I  have  done  but  little,  and  now  I  can  do  no 

than  pray.  '  Behold  the  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can 
.' "  When  in  great  agony,  he  said,  "  If  I  were  now  per- 
)d  to  stand  in  Wycliffe  pulpit,  what  a  sermon  should  I  be 
to  preach  to  my  brother  teachers,  and  the  children  of  the 
•Is ;  how  I  would  exhort  them  to  be  up  and  doing,  so  as  to 
t  sure  work  for  eternity,  and  to  see  that  they  were  building 

solid  foundation.  W^hat  should  I  now  do,  if  I  had  to 
God  on  this  bed  of  pain  and  suffering.  I  find  Christ  all  and 
1  to  me." 

I  frequently,  in  the  agonies  of  death,  said,  "  Happy,  quite 
y  1 "  and  "  Glory,  glory  !  *'  also,  "  Canaan's  happy  land  ;  I'm 
d  to  the  land  of  Canaan." 

ferring  to  heaven,  he  said,  "  There  will  be  no  night  there ; 

II  have  no  wrinkle,  spot,  or  blemish — all  will  be  perfection 
u 

*  A  few  more  rolling  suns  at  most 
Will  land  me  on  fair  Canaan's  coast.* " 

r  hours  before  he  departed  he  said,  '*  Come,  Lord  Jesus, 
quickly;  into  thy  hands  I  commit  my  body,  soul,  and 
i."  Perceiving  him  fix  his  eyes  upwards,  with  a  sweet 
t  on  his  countenance,  I  asked  him  if  he  saw  anything ;  he 
ed,  '*  Angels  beckon  me  away,  and  Jesus  bids  me  come." 
ler  remarked  to  him,  that  she  thought  his  mind  was  kept 
erfect  peace  ;  he  replied,  "  Yes ;  stayed  on  Christ ;  I  have 
aitted  all  into  his  keeping."  He  told  several  of  his  friends 
"  now  he  plainly  saw  that  the  Lord  had  been  training  him. 
3  school  for  some  time  past  for  this  afiiictVoB.,  viA  iiv«  V^ 
bout  to  take  bim  borne." 

was  only  observed  to  weep  twice  ;  and  -wYoVe  Va  e<svr»«t«ar 
tb  Mr,  SavUl,  tbe  Superintendent  of  iVie  ^ab\>»X\v^c^io^>^ 


96       A  FEW  MAXIMS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

told  him  they  were  not  tears  of  sorrow,  but  tears  of  joy.  On  some 
of  hU  class  visiting  him,  he  earnestly  entreated  them  "  to  giie 
their  hearts  to  the  Saviour,  and  to  do  more  in  his  service  thn 
even  their  dying  teacher  had  done ;  and  to  remember,  thit 
although  his  spirit  would  shortly  be  in  heaven,  still  he  would k 
speaking  to  them  through  the  words  he  had  endeavoured  tt 
impress  on  their  minds.** 

When  observing  dear  mother  weep,  he  kissed  her,  and  said, 
"  Do  not  grieve,  for,  by  so  doing,  you  are  murmuring  at  theirill 
of  the  Almighty.**  She  replied,  "Jesus  wept  at  the  grave  i 
Lazarus."  "  Yes,'*  he  said,  "that  is  human^  nature;  if  Jeso 
wept,  sure  his  followers  may ;  but  do  not  give  way  to  immo- 
derate grief,  for  your  loss  is  my  eternal  gain."  On  inotiiB 
occasion  ho  said,  "  Perhaps  my  spirit  may  be  permitted  to 
over  you  as  a  guardian  angel,  for  spirits  are  not  tu  aparL* 
last  word  he  distinctly  uttered  was — ^"  Jbsus.*  Dear 
asked  if  Christ  was  still  precious  to  him ;  with  a  Bweet 
his  countenance,  he  replied,  "  Yes ;  oh  yes,  precious  ! " 

Dr.  Keed  improved  his  death  on  the  following  Snndij! 
from  the  words  of  our  Saviour,  Luke  iz.  23 :  *'  FoUUno 


A  FEW  MAXIMS  FOR  THE  YOUKG. 

BT  THE  KEV.  T.  WALLACE. 

Read,  that  you  may  know.  Think,  that  you  xnaj  ezed.  !► 
quire,  that  errors  may  be  corrected,  and  that  your  knoirle^P 
may  be  continually  increasing. 

Peruse  the  Bible  much,  and  regularly  make  yourselves  ftm- 
liar  with  its  contents — with  its  sublime  doctrines — its  hoij 
precepts — its  tender  invitations — its  admirable  directions— ia 
solemn  warnings  —  its  invaluable  promises.  Nothing  will  m 
feed  and  enrich  the  mind— nothing  so  fortify  and  purify  the 
heart. 

Be  devoted  to  God  while  young.  It  will  beautify  yonr  cl» 
ractcr— prepare  you  for  life — fit  you  for  trial — preserve  yon  in 
temptation — succour  you  in  weakness — console  you  in  sid^neas— 
tranquillize  you  in  death. 

Go  early  to  the  Saviour,  for  all  the  knowledge  you  need^all 

the  wisdom  you  require — all  the  strength  yon  will  demand— «U 

the  grace  you  will  find  necessary — all  the  holiness  which  will  be 

essential  to  youi  happvutss^Vex^,  vo.^  l^^ox  \it«^asQdneai  forim- 

mortal  glory. 

If  you  feel  your  nce^  ot  ^^^'^jl^J^S^^V^f^^^ 
will  that  conviction  imipwrt.  V>  lou  ^T«ii^^Ji^^\-3^  ^Xfi^^ 


SCRIPTDRE  NATURAL  HISTOEY. 


In  the  vegetable  kingdom,  the  cedar  tree  occupies 
a  most  distinguished  place.  It  is  the  king  of  trees.' 
The  name  given  to  it  in  Scripture  is  taken  from  its 
most  remarltable  property  of  duration,  TW\Were«.-« 
name  ia  tlS  Erez,  signifying  jij"nv,  stable,  AiiTaWa.. 
There  is  no  tree  mentioned  so  fretiuenlX?  '^^^  -OoawMi^* 


98  SCBIPTUBE  NATURAL  HISTORY, 

poetry  of  Scripture  as  the  cedar.  In  Isa,  Ix.  13,  it  is 
called  "the  glory  of  Lebanon."  It  is  an  evergreen; 
its  branches  stretch  out  horizontally  all  around,  and  so 
wide,  that  thousands  might  stand  under  its  covering 
and  protecting  shade.  By  Linnaeus,  the  eminent  bota- 
nist, this  tree  is  classed  among  the  junipers. 

The  Cedar  of  Lebanon,  when  the  forests  of  that 
tree  were  in  their  greatest  glory,  were  nearly  fortj 
feet  in  girth,  and  about  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  while 
the  tree  itself  rose  to  the  astonishing  height  of  two 
hundred  feet.  The  roots  of  the  Cedar  are  numerous; 
wide-spreading,  and  deep,  in  proportion  to  the  size  of 
the  tree.  Without  this  it  could  never  bear  the  fury  of 
the  raging  tempest*  Thus  the  amazing  strength  of 
roots,  and  the  deep  and  firm  hold  they  take  of  the  earft, 
are  employed  as  a  figurative  illustration  of  the  strengtk 
and  security  of  the  Christian's  graces,  and  of  the  fim 
hold  they  take  of  Christ.  Hos.  xiv.  5 :  **  Israel  shaE 
cast  forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon.*' 

The  wood  of  this  tree  is  of  a  beautiful  brownish 
colour,  the  grain  is  fine  and  firm,  and  the  odour  is 
peculiarly  fragrant.  I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  dehgbt* 
ful  sensation  I  felt  when  visiting  the  library  of  Arundd 
Castle,  in  Surrey,  many  years  ago.  The  cases  of  the 
library  are  all  formed  of  cedar  wood,  and  on  entering 
the  magnificent  apartment  the  perfume  is  most  fragrant 
and  delicious.  This  is  a  fit  emblem  of  the  sacred  pe^ 
fume  exhaled  from  the  graces  of  the  Spirit,  which  con- 
stitute the  furniture  of  the  regenerated  soul. 

There  is  a  peculiar  bitterness  in  the  taste  of  this 
tree,  to  which  worms  are  greatly  averse,  and  therefore 
proves  to  the  tree   a   defence   from    those   enemies^ 
which  are  the  formidable  foes  of  the  most  valuable 
productions  of  the  vegetable  kingdom*   There  is,  there- 
fore, no  tree  so  durable  as  the  Cedar  ;  we  may  almost 
pronounce   it  incorruptible.     Some  cedar   wood  was 
iound  perfectly  ^resVimXk'^T^ivft&Q'l  ^\Kas^^\^Utic% 
in  JSarbary,  wbere  \tIa\]La\.WN^x^TaaMl^\^x^!MM^'^^ 
than  two  thousand  y^axa. 


BERMOK.  99 

m 

Under  Divine  direction  it  was  especially  used  in 
rearing  the  temple  of  Solomon.  There  were  first  three 
rows  of  stone,  and  then  one  of  cedar. 

Jesus  is  compared  to  the  Cedar,  Song  v.  15  :  "His 
countenance  is  as  Lebanon,  excellent  as  the  cedars  J' 
Saints  are  likened  to  the  Cedar.  They  are  deeply  and 
firmly  rooted  in  Christ,  they  shall  reach  in  heaven  the 
lofty  stature  of  complete  perfection,  and  shall  for  ever 
lourish  as  evergreens  in  the  paradise  of  the  blessed. 
MLbj  the  following  be  the  wish  of  our  hearts  : — 

''  Lord,  'tis  a  pleasant  thing  to  stand 
In  gardens  planted  by  thy  hand ; 
Let  me  within  thy  courts  be  seen, 
Like  a  young  cedar  fresh  and  green." 

A.F. 


SERMON  VIL 

IT   IS   WELL    WITH   THE   CHILD.* 


.""lait  wdl  wUk  the  chiid  ?    And  she  ansucered,  It  is  wdV* — 

2  Kings  iv.  26. 

Our  text  contains  a  Question  and  an  Ansrver.  The 
question  was  put  by  Gehazi,  the  servant  of  the  pro- 
phet Elisha.  The  question  was  addressed  to  a  woman 
who  was  both  wealthy  and  pious.  What  a  blessing  is 
wealth  when  it  is  connected  with  the  bright  jewel  of 
jiety !  This  excellent  woman  is  called  the  Shunammite, 
because  she  lived  in  a  city  named  Shunem,     This  city 

*  This  Sermon  was  composed  on  occasion  of  the  blessed  and 

triumphant  death  of  Master  Lydiard  M ,  \a\jfc  ^.oTi.  ol  ^ 

respected  minister  of  ChriBt,  in  the  north  oi  ^coWwajSi.    '^^^ 
uamber  of  the  S&bbath  School  Preacher  coutainA  V\&  o\>\\?a»xs  > 
rhlch  I  bare  read  with  tears  of  the  most  teud^x  YnX^t^"^*  "^^^ 
hna  child  died  aged  nine  3'ears. 


100  99B|fQN. 

l>eloit)ged  to  the  tribei  of  lasacha^,  and;  was  situated 
ai>out  five  mileafrom  Tabor^  Josh- ^x»  18.  Th^ 
Shunammite  greatly  esteeioed  Elkha,  the  Lord'^  pro- 
phet. She  built  for  him  n  little  chamber  m  her  hoi»e; 
she  furnished  it  for  his  aecoaiinQdationy  and  be  was 
wdcome  at  aU  tiniea.  to  come  under  her  roof. 

This  holy  womaa  bad  no  child.  Indeed,  she,  had 
lived  long  childless.  To  her  great  surprise^  the  pro- 
phet told  her  one  day,  that  it  was  the  will  of  God 
she  should  have  a  son.  Her  heart  was  filled  with  joj. 
At  the  time  appointed,  her  son  was  born.  The  dear 
child  lived  till  he  was  seven  or  eight  years  of  age. 
While  in  the  corn-field,  on  a  harvest-day,  among  the 
reapers,  he  was  suddenly  struck  with  a  most  violent 
pain  in  his  head.  He  instantly  cried  with  a  loud 
voice,  "  My  head,  my  head !"  He  was  taken  home  to 
his  mother.  He  sat  on  her  knees  till  noon,  and  then 
died.  Oh  what  grief,  and  sorrow,  and  anguish,  must 
have  filled  the  loving  mother's  heart  I  I  think  I  hear 
the  sighs  which  rose  from  her  bosom.  I  think  I  see 
the  big  tears  running  down  her  cheeks.  Her  child, 
her  only  child,  her  son  —  the  son  of  her  fondest 
hopes,  was  dead!  In  a  moment,  the  lovely  flower 
withered  before  her  eyes.  The  expectation  that 
her  son  would  have  been  the  staff  and  consolatioti 
of  her  old  age,  seemed  to  have  passed  away  for 
ever.  Since  the  eyes  of  her  dear,  and  lovely,  and 
hopeful  child  were  closed  in  death,  the  world  seemed  a 
dreary  waste,  covered  with  clouds  of  mourning  and  of 
woe. 

Beloved  young  friends,  think  of  the  death  of  chil- 
dren.     Oh,  what  multitudes  of  infants,  of  children, 
and   of  youths,  are  cut  off  by  the   hand   of  death. 
Often  have  I  observed,  in  the  burying-grounds,  great 
numbers  of  short  graves.     A  few  days  ago,  walking 
down  a  retired  p^iaaa.^^  \i^tmxt  St-PauFs  and  the 
river  Thames,  1  looked  w^  \.o  >Doa  ^TjJcrKwjfc^  ^sA  tead 
its  name — "  Church  Passage"'    ^^^^^\!i%  ^ts««^ 
I  saw  no  churcli,     T\ie  ^^ct^5i  ^^^^^^>^\a^W«.^ 


BMmysf.  '401 

stood  in  that  secluded  place,  is  no  more.  By  the  great 
fire  of  London,  in  the  year  1666,  it  was,  with  many 
others,  burnt  to  the  ground.  It  was  never  rebuilt; 
but  the  very  limited  burying-ground  remains.  As 
I  passed,  I  felt  inclined  to  look  at  the  graves,  and  was 
struck  with  the  number  of  short  graves.  These  con- 
tain the  lifeless  ashes  of  dear  infants  whom  mothers 
dandled  on  their  knees,  and  pressed  to  their  bosom. 
Think  of  the  millions  of  babes  removed  by  death ! 
TTunk  of  the  riters  of  tears  which  fond  mothers  hav^ 
shed  while  looking  on  the  pale  corpses  of  their  dear 
d^arted  babes !  What  consolation  to  think  they  are 
all  in  heaven !  Jesus  became  an  infant.  Jesus  died 
for  infants.  He  is  the  Saviour  of  departed  babes. 
Has  he  not  said,  '^  Suffer  little  children  to  come  untb 
me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for^  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
o£ heaven?"  Matt  xix.  14;  Mark  x.  17;  Lukex.  25. 
Dear  young  friends,  astonishing  must  be  the  multitude 
of  children  in  heaven !  Yes,  it  mnst  be  so,  when  we 
think  of  the  myriads  of  myriads  of  babes  and  little 
children  who  have  been  led  by  death's  eold  hand  to 
beaven's  gate,  and  who  are  now  before  the  throne  of 
Jesus,  shining  brighter  than  the  sun!  Are  you  not 
ready  to  send  your  prayers  to  Him  who  hears  the 
prayers  of  children,  and  say,  "  Lord  Jesus,  prepare  me 
for  the  heavenly  mansions.  Lord  Jesus,  prepare  me 
for  joining  the  multitudes  of  children  in  heaven,  whom 
no  man  can  number.  Lord  Jesus,  prepare  me  for 
uniting  with  those  ransomed  myriads,  who  are  no  more 
babes,  and  infants,  and  children,  but  who  are  wise,  and 
holy,  and  powerful  as  the  angels  of  light,  who  minister 
before  thy  throne." 

Last  summer,  visiting  a  lovely  burying-ground,  at 
Horsham,  in  Surrey,  I  felt  a  solemn,  sacred  glow, 
while  reading  the  following  epitaph  on  the  tomb-stone 
of  a  beloved  child,  Removed  by  death  from  the  fowd. 
embraea  of  tender-hmxted  parents.  My  yovxti^iwsA'*'* 
read  it  to  your  mother^  when  you  obaex^^Viec  \<^^^vcw% 
*rer  her  departed  child  :— 


102  SERMOl^, 

''  Kest,  sweet  babe,  in  gentle  slumber. 
Till  the  resurrection  mom ; 
Then  arise,  to  join  the  number 
Who  its  triumphs  shall  adorn  ! 

"  Though  thy  presence  was  endearing. 
Though  thine  absence  we  deplore. 
At  thy  Saviour's  bright  appearing, 
We  shall  meet  to  part  no  more.'' 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  pious  Shunammite.  She 
wept,  she  mourned,  but  she  did  not  murmur.  Her 
earthly  hopes  were  blasted;  but  her  hope  in  God 
retained  its  bloom,  and  exhaled  its  fragrance.  The 
child  was  her's,  but  it  was  more  God's  than  her's. 
She  loved  her  child,  but  she  knew  that  God  loved  him 
more  tenderly  than  any  mother  could  ever  love  the 
child  of  her  bosom.  What  was  the  language  of  her 
heart  ?  It  was  the  language  God  taught  her.  It  was 
this:  "  The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done !"  It  was  this: 
"  The  Lord  gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  and 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !  *' 

True  grace  teaches  bereaved  parents  a  most  blessed 
lesson.  It  teaches  them  to  believe  that  when  God 
deprives  them  of  their  children,  he  has  done  justly, 
wisely,  and  well.  "  He  is  too  wise  to  err,  and  too 
good  to  be  unkind."  Even  while  the  cheeks  of  the 
bereaved  mother  are  bathed  in  tears,  she  can  say : — 

"  The  dear  delights  we  here  enjoy, 
And  fondly  call  our  own, 
Are  but  short  favours  borrow'd  now. 
To  be  repaid  anon. 

"  'Tis  Gk)d  that  lifts  our  comforts  high. 
Or  sinks  them  in  the  grave ; 
He  gives,  and  blessed  be  his  name. 
He  takes  but  what  he  gave." 

When  the  only  child  and  son  of  the  Shunammit<t 
expired,  the  mouTmn^  ixxoV^et  \.w3s.  \sv^  XsSs^i^^i  body 
and  laid  it  on  ElisWa  \ie^.    ^''s^^  \«A\\.  \m^ww ^^Nbs,^^:^ 
bed  of  the  propliet  wlaom  G^o^  wi^Vj^^^  Vi\s^l^xmW 


SEBMOK.  103 

that  she  should  have  a  son.  When  she  kissed  the  cold 
lips  of  her  departed  child,  she  remembered  the  promise 
^hich  filled  her  heart  with  emotions  of  joyful  hope. 
Now,  with  emotions  of  grief,  she  saw  the  lovely  blos- 
soms of  her  liveliest  hopes  before%er  eyes  blasted  and 
withered.  Does  she  give  herself  up  to  despair?  Far 
from  it.  After  pouring  out  her  soul,  and  her  griefs, 
into  the  bosom  of  a  merciful  and  prayer- hearing  God, 
she  resolves  to  proceed  and  tell  Elisha,  the  man  and 
prophet  of  God,  that  her  beloved  child  was  removed 
|)jr  the  hand  of  death.  She  told  her  husband  she 
wished,  without  delay,  to  visit  the  prophet,  that  she 
might  receive  comfort  from  his  words,  and  know  the 
will  of  Heaven.  It  is  not  said  that  she  had  even  faint 
hopes  God  might  show  compassion  to  her,  and  restore 
her  child.  She  knew  that  God  could  restore  him.  She 
also  knew  that  if  God  did  not  restore  him,  Divine 
^race  would  teach  her  complete  submission  to  the 
Divine  will. 

So  she  saddled  an  ass,  and  rode  onward  to  Carmel, 
a  city  in  the  south  part,  in  the  inheritance  of  Judah, 
situated  near  Mount  Carmel,  from  which  it  took  its 
nanae.  There  she  met  with  the  man  of  God.  Elisha 
saw  her  afar  off.  He  said  to  Gehazi  his  servant, 
**  Behold,  yonder  is  that  Shunammite."  He  felt  im- 
pressed that  something  very  particular  had  befallen 
jier.  He  very  likely  saw  in  her  the  tokens  of  mourn- 
ing and  of  grief.  He  therefore  desires  him  to  make 
haste  to  run  and  meet  her,  and  to  ask  her  the  following 
questions : — "  Is  it  well  with  thee  ?  is  it  well  with  thy 
husband?  is  it  well  with  the  child?"  He  went  to  her, 
and  addressed  the  questions.  To  each  question  she 
answered,  "It  is  well  !"  It  was  uttered  with  the  voice 
of  sorrow ;  but  it  was  the  voice  of  submission  I 

When  the  Shunammite  reached  Mount  Carmel,  she 
met  the  prophet.     She  fell  down  before  him,  axvd  \w 
the  BVgvisb  of  her  heart  she  caught  \io\^  ol  Vvs>  ^^^\.» 
The  unfeeling  and  hard-hearted  Gehazi  vji^e^  ^^3^^^'^ 
'o  ''thrust  her  away."     This  remiuda  \ia  oi  \>ci^  ^^^^ 


104  SEBUOIf. 

duct  of  tbe  disciples,  when  .mothers  wilth  holy  anxiety 
were  pressing  forward  to  J^us,  that  he  might  ta^e 
their  babes  in  his  arms,  and  bless  them.  It  is  siid, 
Mark  X.  13,  &c. :  ^' And  his  disciples  rehvAed  ^tm 
that  brought  them.  But  when  Jesus  saw  it,  he  im 
much  displeased^  and  ^aid  unto  them.  Suffer  the  Uttk 
x^ldren  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not :  for  d 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  God."  No  doubt  Elisha  wai 
offended  with  the  harshness  and  severity  of  GehuL 
''  And  the  man  of  God  said,  Let  her  alone ;  for  her 
soul  is  vexed  within  her :  and  the  Lord  hath  hid  it 
from  me,  .and  hath  not  told  me."  The  man  of  God 
pitied  her.  He  saw  her  sorrowful,  and  wished  td 
comfort  her.  The  true  ministers  of -Jesus  wish  to 
be  the  comforters  of  his  sorrowing  people.  Their 
commission  is,  ^^  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  peo[^; 
speak  ye  comfortably  to  Jerusalem,"  Isa.  xl.  1,2. 
Like  Elisha,  they  wish  to  be  the  comforters  of  sorrowing 
saints. 

Now,  the  holy  Shunammite  pours  forth  the  cause  of 
her  sorrow.  Now,  she  is  sowing  in  tears,  little  aware 
of  those  sheaves  of  joy  she  should  soon  reap,  in 
receiving,  into  her  arras  her  beloved  and  lovely  child 
restored  to  life.  My  dear  young  friends,  saints  in  the 
depths  of  their  sorrow  are  often  ignorant  of  the  great 
and  joyful  blessings  which  are  near  at  hand.  How 
true — 

"  The  Lord  can  clear  the  darkesrt  skies. 
Can  give  us  day  for  night, 
Make  drops  of  sacred  sorrow  rise 
To  rivers  of  delight !  " 

And  what  did  the  bereaved  Shunammite  say  to  the 

prophet  ?     "  Then  she  said,  Did  I  desire  a  son  of  my 

lord?    did    I    not    say.    Do  not  deceive  me?"    Her 

tongue  cleaved  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth.      She  could 

say  no  more.     The  Y^oVy  ^Ta^\\e.t  saw  the  child  was 

dead.     He  likely  £e\t  \m^Tes&^\  xJoax.^  Va.  ^\ss^«:  \a 

prayer,  God  might  TesloT^\Xv^<3cSL^\a\\^^.   ^^^v^'t. 

iis  servant  his  staff,  an^  ^^««^^Vv«^v^  ^^Vst>^^ 


SUBMISSION   TO  THE   DIVINE    WILL.  lOo 

Speedily,  to  enter  the  little  chamber  where  the  child 
laj,  and  place  the  staff  apon  his  lifeless,  cold  day.  The 
prophet  followed  Gehazi,  accompanied  by  ihe  mourn- 
ing mother.  On  reaching  Carmel,  he  entered  the 
apartment  of  death.  He  shut  the  door.  He  prayed 
to  the  Lord.  He  lay  upon  the  child  till  his  flesh 
became  warm.  This  he  did  seven  times.  Then  the 
child  opened  his  eyes,  which  deaths  had  closed.  He 
sneezed  seven  times.  The  prophet  called  for  the 
mother.  He  said,  "  Take  up  thy  son.**  She  fell  at  his 
feet.  Then  she  took  up  her  son,  and  went  out, 
wondering  at  the  power  and  mercy  of  a  gracious 
God! 

Young  friends,  may  Divine  grace  reach  your  hearts ! 
Then  you  shall  live.  Then  you  shall  be  to  your  holy 
parents  crowns  of  rejoicing  for  ever  and  ever  1  Amen, 
and  amen. 


SUBMISSIOJST  TO  THE  DIVINE  WILL. 

Suggested  by  thinking  on  the  Camel  which  always  kneels  down 

to  be  loaded  with  his  burden, 

I. 

"  Emblem  of  what  my  soul  should  be 
When  called  the  Cross  to  bear. 
My  duty  in  thine  Art  I  see, 
Unconscious  monitor. 

II. 

"  Besign'd  like  thee,  oh  !  could  I  stoop 
With  unresisting  will, 
Ready  to  take  my  burden  up. 
And  all  my  task  fulfil !" 

Mas.  A.  Maitland. 


MAKTTROLOGY. 


SCOTTISH   MARTYRS. 


John  Brown. 

In  the  year  1603,  James  VI.  of  Scotland  sncceeded  Elizabeth 
on  the  throne  of  England.    It  was  the  desire  of  James  and  his 
successors,  until  the  year  1688,  to  have  one  form  of  religion  for 
both  nations.    James,  now  resident  in  England,  thought  thtt 
the  Scotch  people  should  adopt  the  same  form  of  worship  as  the 
English  nation.    The  Scotch,  on  their  part,  were  prepared  ratlier 
to  die  than  to  change, — first,  on  religious  grounds,  and  secondlfi 
because  they  considered  it  an  invasion  of  their  national  inde- 
pendence.   During  this  period,  no  less  than  18,000  persons 
suffered  death,  or  the  utmost  extremities  and  hardships.    All 
ranks,  from  the  noble  to  the  humble  peasant,  were  odled  to 
suffer.    The  Marquis  of  Argyle,  who  placed  the  crown  on  the 
head  of  Charles  II.,  was,  by  order  of  the  same  monarch,  beheaded 
at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh ;  and  John  Brown,  the  subject  of  the 
following  sketch,  was  shot  before  the  door  of  his  own  cottage, 
without  either  jury  or  trial. 

The  first  morning  of  May,  1685,  was  dark  and  misty.  The 
Christian  Carrier,  as  he  was  called,  rose  ^with  the  dawn,  to  follow 
his  humble  vocation.  Before  going  out,  he  called  his  little 
family  round  the  domestic  altar,  to  offer  up  the  morning  sacri-  | 
fice  of  praise  and  of  prayer.  The  verses  he  sung  were  taken  ' 
from  the  27th  Psalm : — 

"  The  Lord 's  my  light  and  saving  health ; 
Who  shall  make  me  dismay'dl 
My  life's  strength  is  the  Lord ;  of  whom. 
Then,  shall  1  be  afraid] 

"  Against  me  though  an  host  encamp, 
My  heart  yet  fearless  is ; 
Though  war  against  me  rise,  I  will 
Be  con^^eiL^j  m  Wiv^.'* 

After  which  he  read  the  l^th  c\^v^\««  ^^  "XOwv^^Tv^Jas^^.w^^ 


MABTYROLOOr.  107 

the  Lord  when  called  to  appear  (as  we  may  be  at  any 
bre  the  judgment-seat  of  our  Maker* 
worship,  John  went  ont  to  a  hill  at  a  little  distance,  to 
some  ground.  While  thus  engaged,  all  at  once  he  was 
ed  by  an  officer  of  the  army,  called  Graham  of  Clayer- 
id  a  party  of  soldiers.  The  good  man  left  his  spade,  and 
h  Olayerhouse  and  his  soldiers  to  his  humble  cot.  His 
ighter  Janet,  who  had  been  out,  observed  them  approach- 
and  told  her  mother.  Her  mother  took  up  her  young 
rapped  him  in  her  plaid,  took  Janet  by  the  hand,  and 
to  meet  them.  As  she  went,  she  oitered  up  this  simple 
"  0  Lord,  give  me  grace  for  this  hour  ! "  Let  your 
iw  the  picture  of  the  wicked  soldiers,  the  innocent  and 
tnily  about  to  be  broken  up,  standing  before  a  house 

0  be,  by  many,  a  shelter  for  the  needy  in  the  stormy 
Dlaverhouse  asked  Brown  to  change  his  religion,  to 

1  distinctly  replied  that  he  would  not.  **  If  notp  said 
use,  "prepare  to  die;  go  to  your  prayers.'*  John  at 
I  so,  and  prayed  in  such  a  manner  as  filled  all  present— 
ked  Claverhouse  himself^with  astonishment.  At  last 
mpatient,  and  would  not  allow  him  to  proceed  further, 
jekly  turned  to  his  wife,  and  said,  **  Marion,  the  day  is 
3ld  you  would  come,  when  I  first  proposed  marriage  to 
•e  you  willing  that  I  should  part  from  youT'  She 
"  Indeed,  John,  in  this  cause  I  am  willing  to  part  with 
[e  then  said,  "  This  is  all  I  wait  for."  He  embraced 
s  arms,  and  kissed  her  with  his  little  boy  at  her  breast. 
Janet  he  said,  "  My  sweet  child,  give  your  hand  to  God 
;uide,  and  be  your  mother's  comforter."  He  could  add 
his  heart  was  too  full.  Claverhouse  cried  out,  *^No  more^* 
red  his  soldiers  to  fire.  They  did  sof,  and  poor  John  fell 
ound  a  lifeless  corpse.  When  the  deed  was  over,  Claver- 
ced,  *'  What  thinkest  thou  of  thy  husband  now,  woman  1 " 
thought  much  of  him,"  she  replied,  "  and  now  more 
T."  "  It  were  but  justice,"  said  he,  "  to  lay  thee  beside 
If  you  were  permitted,"  she  said,  "  I  doubt  not  but  your 
rould  go  that  length.  But  how  will  you  answer  for  this 
's  work]"  "  To  man,"  he  said,  "I  can  be  answerable ,* 
r  God,  I  will  take  him  in  my  own  hands."  He  and  the 
.hen  rode  off,  and  left  Marion  beside  the  body  of  her  dead 

Having  now  none  to  contend  with,  nor  to  speak  to, 
little  family,  the  distressed  widow  laid  the  bpdy  on  the 
^thercd  the  shattered  head  in  her  napkin,  straightened 
,  covered  it  with  her  plaid,  drew  her  children  around 
sat  down  and  wept ! 

(To  be  continued^ 


108 


THE  MEMOIR  OP  LYDIARD  M ,  ROaS-SHIEB,  WHO 

DIED  AGED  NINE  TEABS. 

The  yonthfhl  eubject  of  the  following  brief  sketch  was  ftt 
eldest  son  of  a  clergyman,  bom  in  North  America,  and  aooofr 
panied  his  parents  to  Scotland  in  1844  when  about  foor  jeani 
age.  He  was  a  very  attractive  child,  of  a  lively  and  engagiif 
disposition — ^beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  After  he  had  bes 
aboat  two  years  in  Scotland,  whether  from  the  change  of 
climate  or  not  is  uncertain,  his  health  began  to  fail,  and  muq 
an  anxious  hour  it  cost  his  fond  parents  in  the  fruitless  endeaTOV 
to  ascertain  the  cause  of  his  delicacy.  He  was  a  lovely  id 
intelligent  boy,  of  such  a  buoyant  and  engaging  manner  that  aH 
who  came  within  the  sphere  of  his  influence  loved  and  admired 
him  as  a  child  of  extraordinary  promise.  But  alas  I  we  aheild 
never  place  our  mind  or  affections  too  much  on  treasures  lentv 
only  to  be  restored.  His  intellectual  endowments,  which  liii 
parents  fondly  hoped  were  ripening  for  the  delight  and  pleason 
of  his  friends,  were  by  his  Heavenly  Father  made  the  means  of 
iitting  his  mind  more  to  receive  the  gracious  influences  of  tbe 
Holy  Spirit,  and  he  gradually  showed  an  earnest  longii^  alter 
ispiritui^  things,  wonderful  in  one  of  his  tender  age. 

He  was  in  a  delicate  state  of  health  for  nearly  three  years,  and 
during  that  protracted  period  it  was  striking  to  observe  tbe 
patience  and  fortitude  wiw  which  he  bore  his  sufferings,  whieb 
at  times  were  exceeding  great  The  Lord  seemed,  indeed,  to  be 
preparing  him  for  an  entrance  into  his  everlasting  kix^dom. 
After  the  first  few  months  of  his  illness  he  never  suffered  i 
repining  word  to  escape  him ;  and  when  receiving  the  sympathy 
of  others  he  would  ever  reply,  "  My  trials  are  sent  for  my  gooi 
!The  Lord  never  willingly  afflicts."  He  was  confined  to  his  bed 
for  nearly  three  months ;  and  on  one  occasion  when  in  great  paia 
his  nurse  remarked,  "  Oh  !  my  dear,  you  are  suffering  too  much;" 
he  quickly  replied,  "Jenny,  don't  say  that.  The  Lord  newr 
sends  more  than  his  children  are  able  to  bear."  His  £uth  and 
patience  were  wonderful  at  so  tender  an  age.  Without  such 
large  communications  of  the  grace  of  Gk)d  as  he  enjoyed,  it  was 
impossible  that  nature  could  bear  up  under  such  intense  bodilj 
Buffering. 

His  taste  for  reading,  and  reading  of  a  good  solid  stamp,  wis 
remarkable.   It  was  seldom  he  could  be  seen  without  some  usdhl 
book  to  pore  over ;  and  well  could  he  express  in  beautiful  lan- 
guage his  little  sentiments  and  correct  ideas  of  the  subjects    ' 
he  had  been  studying.    li^\.\fex\^  \3^&  ^\»wftAKa»  i^^^k  a  decidedly 
religious  cast ;    and  BWAft  'ftNA\.an,  "^V^  ^'^^gcosi^  ^^tw^Mis 
and  Fletcher's  Sermona  iox  e\i\\^xfcxi»jMD.^^^^:cve^'S^ 
Expositor,  were  boo\^  ^U^VV^  ^€.^^V\ft^V.  t«^.  «^\»5a 


MEMOIR  OF   LTDIARD  M— .  109 

hicli  he  derived  much  benefit  and  consolation.  When  unable 
%  read  himseli^  or  hold  his  book,  it  yraa  his  papa^  practice  to 
fiTO  stated  reading  and  prayer  with  him,  morning  and  night, 
id  most  anzioufilj  did  he  long  for  the  appointed  hours.  After  a 
ortion  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  or  of  any  other  book  was  read 
»  him,  his  mind  being  rail  of  the  subject,  it  was  his  constant- 
nctlce  to  converse  with  his  father  on  whatever  was  thus  read, 
i  which  he  evinced  a  knowledge  and  judgment  beyond  hi& 


Though  wishful  for  a  time  to  recover,  in  order,  as  he  remarked, 
lat  he  might  be  a  missionary  to  the  heathen,  he  was  quite 
isigned  to  the  Divine  will.  His  father  asked,  ''  How  can  one 
f  BO  delicate  a  constitution  as  you  think  of  such  a  thing  ]"  He^ 
splied,  •*  The  Lord  will  strengthen  me  for  the  work." 

Often  when  his  mother  visited  him  during  the  silent  hours  of 
light,  when  all  were  hushed  in  sleep  aroimd  him,  she  found  him 
wtkke  and  quite  composed ;  and  on  inquiring  if  he  was  lonely, 
f  felt  the  night  long,  he  would  say, ''  Oh  !  no,  mamma,  Jesus  is 
rith  me.**  *'  How  do  you  know,  my  dear]"  "I  feel  his  presence- 
awoke  the  other  night  praying,  and  I  think  Jesus  was  speaking 

0  me.  He  is  ever  with  me."  His  papa  asked  him  one  day  as 
ie  conversed  on  some  religious  subject,  what  he  understood  by 
he  '*  Righteousness  of  Christ."  His  reply  was  sweetly  simple 
iiid  to  the  point.  **  Papa,  I  think  it  means  what  Christ  was,, 
rhat  he  did,  and  what  he  continues  to  do." 

He  was  never  so  happy  as  when  his  dear  papa  was  reading  and 
^Jking  to  him.  His  mind  was  so  wonderfully  enlightened  for 
we  of  his  tender  years,  it  was  as  easy  to  talk  to  him  on  any 
mbject  as  it  would  be  to  one  twice  his  age.  He  seemed  at  once 
x>  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  subject,  and  remark  upon  it  in  a^ 
most  pleasing  and  satisfactory  manner.  And  it  is  now  with 
'telings  of  unmingled  delight  and  satisfaction  that  his  parents^ 
look  back  to  many  sweet  hours  spent  with  their  cherished  one. 

He  never  gave  up  the  thought  of  an  ultimate  recovery  until  about 
[Une  days  before  he  died ;  but  when  the  conviction  struck  him  that 
his  last  hour  was  approaching,  he  summoned  all  his  energies,  and 
seemedjust  like  a  little  patriarch  about  departing  for  Emmanuels 
land.  Before  consciousness  left  him,  he  turned  to  his  mother, 
shd  with  his  lovely  large  dark  eye,  so  full  of  intelligence,  fixed 
on  her  countenance,  he  earnestly  entreated  forgiveness  for  any 
offence  he  had  been  guilty  of  towards  his  mamma  or  papa ;  and 
added,  "I  never,  dear  mamma,  wished  to  disobey  or  displease 
you ;  and  once  when  I  made  papa  angry  with  me  in  the  nursery 

1  thought  my  heart  would  break.    Do  forgive  me,  mamma  ]" 
With  feelings  which  none  but  parents  sim\\a.i\"5  t\xcvasi^\asv<5fc^, 

aboa^  to  part  with  a  beloved  and  promising  \>oy,  c^^tl  cYA«t\»\iQ, 
Mejr  kissed  and  consoled  their  darling  chWd.    "S^^  \)afcTL  cs^^A. 
is  little  brothers  to  him,   kissed  them — ^V.o\^  \J[ieva.  \\a  ^«^»» 


110  MEMOIB  OP  LYDIARD  M . 

about  to  leave  them,  and  proceeded  to  giye  them  an  excellent 
advice  simplified  in  his  own  sweet  and  peculiar  manner  to  their 
respective  capacities.  He  excelled  in  the  admirable  method  he 
had  of  suiting  any  subject  he  was  engaged  about  reading  or 
thinking  of,  to  the  capacities  of  his  brothers  or  servants,  aal 
would  engage  their  attention  at  once. 

On  this  last  occasion  of  speaking  to  them,  he  pressed  on  then 
the  necessity  of  a  strict  regard  to  truth — to  love  one  another— to 
remember  the  Sabbath  day — to  behave  well  in  church;  ind 
above  all,  to  live  at  all  times  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  to  obey  their 
parents.    This  he  repeated  two  or  three  times. 

He  then  divided  his  little  library  among  them,  charged  them 
to  be  sure  to  read  their  Bibles,  and  a  little  work  in  two  volomei, 
called  "  Line  upon  Line,'*  as  that  would  direct  their  attention  to 
the  truths  of  the  Oospel,  and  as  from  that  book  he  had  deriyed 
incalculable  benefit.  He  said  he  was  going  to  heaven,  and  mi 
to  leave  them  just  now,  but  he  hoped  he  would  see  them  all 
there ;  and  again  kissed  them,  and  bade  them  farewell  When 
they  left  the  room  he  turned  to  his  papa  and  said,  "  I  tlmik 
I  told  them  all  I  ought,  papa.  I  hope  the  Lord  will  impress  it 
on  their  minds  and  hearts."  He  then  thanked  the  servants  for 
their  kindness  and  attention  to  him  during  his  illness. 

Soon  after  this  deeply  affecting  interview  with  all  the  members 
of  the  household  assembled  around  his  dying  couch  his  bodilj 
agony  and  sufferings  increased,  and  from  their  intensity  noiie 
who  saw  him  could  expect  that  his  physical  energies  could  hoU 
out  much  longer.  During  these  paroxysms  he  would  say,  wiik  \ 
all  the  calmness  of  a  little  Christian,  "  0  papa,  Tn^mm^^  ^  | 
bodily  pain  and  agony  is  great,  bat  you  cannot  help  me :  I  knov 
you  would  if  you  could.  Oh !  I  wish  to  go  to  heaven.  I  am 
suffering  much  agony."  But  he  added,  with  great  sweetneai^ 
"Not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done." 

Shortly  afterwards  he  left  kind  and  affectionate  messages  for 
some  of  his  friends  at  a  distance,  leaving  a  lock  of  his  hair  as  t 
token  of  remembrance.  Then  addressing  his  parents,  and  hii 
little  brothers  and  sisters,  he  said,  "  When  I  am  buried  in  the 
churchyard  mamma  and  you  all  will  look  at  my  grave,  1  will 
look  down  from  heaven  on  you."  Two  or  three  times,  on  obserr- 
ing  his  mother's  troubled  looks  directed  towards  him,  he  wonld 
smile  and  say,  "  Good-bye,  mamma;  good-bye,  papa."  His  papt 
said, ''  I  think  that  you  are  going  fast,  dear;  your  guardian  angel 
is  waiting  for  you."  He  answered,  "Yes,  papa;  but  he  wUl 
require  to  wait  awhile  yet."  And  so,  indeed,  it  happened ;  the 
dear  patient  sufferer  lingered  a  whole  week  unable  to  speak,  but 
perfectly  conscious  t\i08&  ^le  \w^  ^«t^  vt^xnid  Mm.  After 
speech  failed,  his  mamuio.  «&^ft^ MV^ V\\k^  x«»,^5A\\\kfc^^«i^ 
to  smile.  He  looked  at  \i\&  To^asMasi  wA  ^V'usiK^XftA.W.,  «cAS^ 
at  his  papa,  and  did  \\\L^Viae.   ^^te^  \i^  \^«as^^  ^\«eS^ 


MEMOIR  OF   LYDIARD  M .  Ill 

speechless  he  was  in  great  distress.  His  papa  remarked,  that  Ijie 
was  now  going  through  the  deep  waters.  "Yes,"  he  replied, 
"but  Jesns  is  with  me;  the  waves  cannot  overflow  me."  His 
&ther  asked;  "Do  you  know  me,  dear]"  He  looked  at  him 
earnestly  and  said,  "  You  are  my  earthly  father."  His  papa  re- 
marked that  Jesus  was  praying  to  his  heavenly  Father  on  his 
tiehalf^  saying,  "  Father,  I  will  that  those  whom  thou  hast  given 
ine  be  with  me  where  I  am."  The  dear  boy  concluded  the  sen- 
tence, "that  they  may  behold  my  glory." 

His  mother  leaned  over  him,  and  repeated  the  hymn, "  The  hour 
of  my  departure  *s  come."  He  listened  with  delightful  interest ; 
and  when  she  said,  "  Not  in  mine  innocence  I  trust,"  "  Oh  !  no, 
no,"  he  said,  and  shook  his  head  decidedly.  Almost  his  last  con- 
sdons  act  was  to  take  a  little  affectionate  notice  of  his  baby  sister, 
tit  whom  he  was  very  fond. 

-  His  fond  parents  watched  him  night  and  day  constantly  for  a 
week,  during  which  he  suffered  much  without  the  power  of  com- 
plaining, save  by  a  slight  groan  occasionally.  It  was  most 
distressing  to  witness  sufferings  which  the  fondest  earthly  parent 
ecmld  not  soothe  or  alleviate. 

One  night  as  he  lay  in  one  of  those  slight  paroxysms  which 
generally  precede  death,  the  weather  was  unusually  mild,  and  the 
window  of  the  sick-chamber  half  open  to  let  in  the  refreshing 
night  air,  about  half-past  eleven  o'clock,  when  all  the  domestics 
had  retired,  none  were  in  the  room  but  his  father  and  mother, 
who  were  sadly  contemplating  his  altered  appearance,  and  pon- 
dering on  the  change  about  to  take  place,  deep  silence  was  all 
around,  when  suddenly  their  senses  were  ravished  with  strains  of 
ikt  sweetest  and  most  enchanting  melody.  It  seemed  as  if  borne 
upward  by  the  air ;  hovering  over  us  for  a  short  space  of  time, 
and  gradually  dying  away  in  the  distance.  Instinctively  the 
watching  parents  turned  to  their  dying  cherub,  expecting  that  his 
little  soul  had  left  its  earthly  tenement,  to  be  borne  away  by 
those  ministering  guardians  said  to  surround  the  dying  couch  of 
the  redeemed,  to  receive  the  departing  spirit ;  but  he  lingered  a 
little  longer.  He  expired  two  days  after ;  quietly  and  calmly  he 
slept  in  Jesus. 

In  reviewing  the  short  but  interesting  career  of  this  dear 
departed  child,  much  reason  have  his  parents  to  bless  God  that 
he  ever  committed  so  valuable  a  treasure  to  their  trust.    He  has 
been  taken  from  a  world  where  the  storms  that  rage  would  have 
bsen  too  rough  for  his  tender  frame :  he  has  been  taken  by  One 
vdio  loved  him  more  tenderly  even  than  an  earthly  parent.    He 
lias  introduced  him  into  the  mansions  of  eternal  joy.    There  he 
sits  and  sings  among  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  *,  &iL<i  \Xv&x^  ^^ca^ 
the  Iamb  that  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  fee^\yL\Ta.,^'cA\^»^ 
Mm  to  fonntaina  of  living  water;  he  shaW  Wii^et  no  tx^^x^» 
neither  thirst  any  more,  for  all  tears  are  ioi  e^«  Vv^^^  \iasa. 
bis  ejes. 


112,  ADYANT^aES  OF  £ABLT  PIETY. 

May  the  sarviving  brothers  and  sisters  of  this  dear  departed 
boy,  and  all  who  may  read  or  hear  of  what  the  grace  of  Qod  had 
done  in  Mm,  imitate  his  example — be  anxious  to  gain  as  bright 
a  crown— become  the  lambs  of  the  same  kind  and  tender  Shep- 
herd—and  they  may  rest  assured  that  they  will  at  last  enter  inU 
the  joy  of  their  Lord  and  Qod  as  he  has  done. 

My  dear  young  readers,  do  you  promise  yourselves  a  long  lifet 
Bemember  that  you  may  be  called  away  from  this  world,  and 
from  all  that  you  hold  dear,  at  a  like  tender  age  as  the  subject  d 
this  short  ^etch.  Bo  you  wish  to  die  with  the  calmness  of  the 
young  Christian,  lean  upon  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  of  whom  he 
delighted  to  speak,  and  to  whom  he  oommended  his  departing 
spirit]  D.M. 


The  following  verses,  by  Wa^ts,  famish  an  intoresttng  illostra- 
tion  of  the  holy  life  and  triumphant  death  of  the  pious- and 
lovely  Lydlard  M : 

AD YANT AGES  OF  EARLY  PIETY. 

"  Happy  the  child,  whose  youngest  years 
"Receive  instruction  well ; 
Who  hates  the  sinner's  path,  and  fears 
The  road  that  leads  to  hell. 

*'  When  we  devote  our  youth  to  God, 
'Tis  pleasing  in  his  eyes : 
A  flower,  when  offer'd  in  the  bud. 
Is  no  vain  sacrifice. 

"  'Tis  easier  work,  if  we  begin 
To  fear  the  Lord  betimes ; 
While  sinners  that  grow  old  in  sin. 
Are  hardened  in  their  crimes. 

"  'Twill  save  us  from  a  thousand  snares. 
To  mind  religion  young  ; 
Grace  will  preserve  our  following  years. 
And  make  our  virtues  strong. 

"  To  thee,  Almighty  God,  to  thee. 
Our  childhood  we  resign  ; 
'Twill  please  us  to  look  back,  and  see 
That  our  whole  lives  were  thine. 

"  Let  the  sweet  -tjotVl  ol  Y^^i^t  ^tA  y^"^^ 
Timploy  my  ■jo\Mv^e%\i'\5t^sii0a.\ 
Thus  rm  prepaxfed.  iox  \ox^^^  ^^1^^ 
Or  fit  lot  eat\^  de^^Xi" 


SCRIPTURE  MATUBAL  HISTORY. 


With  little  variation  the  name  Camel  is  the  same  in 
all  languages.  In  the  Hebrew  it  ia  VOJ  Gamat.  The 
name  signifies  recen^e.  Tliough  natunilly  gentle,  docile, 
serviceable,  and  obedient,  it  ia  proverbially  revengeful. 
There  is  no  other  irrational  animal  which  remembera 
an  injury  ao  long,  or  revenges  it  with  such  severity: 
hence  tlie  Arabs,  ylien  they  wish  strongly  and  empha- 
tically to  describe  determined  and  long  deep~rooted 
enmity,  call  it  by  the  proverbial  name,  "a  Cameft 
anffer,"  The  jlrabs  greatly  prize  tt\ft  wMt  ^^  ■Cos. 
Ciimel,  and  use  it  both  for  mediwne  atiA  'iov  Ic**- 
Writers  of  eju/iieiice  are  of  opJmoB  t^«.V.  ^^i»  <i«iA'c^!' 


114  SCRIPTURE   NATURAL   HISTORY. 

butes  to  give  and  nourish  in  the  minds  of  the  Arabs 
that  revengeful  dis»position  for  which  they  are  distin- 
guished. 

The  Camel  has  no  horns  :  it  has  six  cutting  teeth  in 
the  lower  jaw,  but  none  in  the  upper.  Like  the  hare, 
the  upper  lip  is  divided.  It  chews  the  cud,  but  as  it 
does  not  divide  the  hoof,  its  flesh  was  forbidden  by  the 
Levitical  law  to  be  used  for  food.  The  bottom  of  its 
feet  is  tough  and  pliant,  by  which  it  is  rendered  pecu- 
liarly fit  for  being  serviceable  to  man  in  crossing  sandy 
and  extensive  deserts.  Camels  are  covered  with  a  fine 
fur,  which  they  cast  in  the  spring,  when  it  is  very 
carefully  gathered  up  and  sold  as  an  article  of  com- 
merce, to  be  manufactured  for  useful  purposes.  Their 
neck  and  legs  are  long  and  slender  :  the  height  to  which 
they  can  lift  up  their  heads  is  very  considerable,  and 
gives  them  a  noble  appearance.  Their  ears  are  short, 
and  their  feet  broad,  which  prevents  their  sinking 
in  the  sand,  and  thus  qualifies  them  for  traversing  the 
deserts  with  celerity  and  ease.  They  can  live  a  long 
time  without  drinking  water  ;  this,  in  a  great  measure, 
arises  from  the  great  quantity  of  water  which  they  can 
take  at  one  time.  The  Creator  has  formed  tliem  dif- 
ferently from  other  animals,  in  giving  them  an  addi- 
tional bag,  prepared  as  a  reservoir  to  contain  a  far 
larger  quantity  of  water  than  is  required  for  immediate 
use.  We  also  see  in  this  how  Gcd  has  wisely  adapted 
the  Camel  for  its  peculiar  life,  to  be  useful  to  man  in 
passing  over  extensive  wastes,  where  a  supply  of  water 
could  not  be  found.  The  Camel  has  the  singular 
power  of  shutting  its  nostrils  so  close  that  the  smallest 
particle  of  sand  is  excluded.  This,  too,  shows  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  as  furnishing  the  animal  with  so  necessary 
a  means  of  protection  and  defence  amid  clouds  of  sand, 
occasionally  and  suddenly  raised  by  the  winds  of  the 
desert.  They  are  capable  of  carrying  heavy  burdens, 
but  will  not  submit  to  esiTT^  \)[vcni  v^iV^w  \.Vw^  weight  is 
excessive.  They  are  tav^^t  \^^  V\i^^  \a  "^wi  -^^ 
burdens  to  be  put  on  axvd  t^^^u  ^^* 


SERMON.  11^ 

Job  bad  three  thousand  Camels,  Job  i.  3.  In  Isa. 
Ix.  69  we  see  that  Camels  shall  be  subservient  to  the 
spread  of  the  Gospel :  "  The  multitudes  of  Camels 
shall  cover  thee  :  they  shall  bring  gold  and  incense ; 
and  they  shall  shew  forth  the  praises  of  the  Lord." 

A.  F. 


SERMON  Vni. 

THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  HOLY  CHILDREN  IN  HEAVEN. 


"  It  is  weU  with  the  child." — 2  Kings  iv.  26. 

"What  a  glorious,  what  a  blessed  place  is  heaven  ! 
Some  have  called  the  starry  sky  the  portico,  or  porch, 
or  gate  of  the  heavenly  palace.  If  the  gate  be  so 
glorious,  what  must  the  palace  itself  be  !  What  a  dif- 
ference there  is  betwixt  this  world  and  heaven.  Great  is 
the  difference  betwixt  a  desert  and  a  garden  beautified 
with  the  loveliest  flowers ;  far  greater  the  difference 
betwixt  earth  and  heaven.  Great  is  the  difference 
betwixt  the  sky  at  night,  with  its  twinkling  stars,  and 
the  sky  at  noon-day,  filled  with  the  brightness  of  the 
meridian  sun  ;  far  greater  the  difference  betwixt  earth; 
and  heaven.  Great  is  the  difference  betwixt  a  prison 
and  the  abodes  of  princes  ;  far  greater  the  difference 
betwixt  earth  and  heaven.  Heaven  is  so  glorious,  so 
pure,  80  happy,  so  blessed,  that  the  most  eloquent 
tongue  cannot  describe  its  purity,  its  happiness,  its 
glory,  its  blessedness :  even  the  heart  cannot  conceive 
its  excellence.  If  the  starry  heavens  were  a  million  of 
times  more  glorious  than  they  are,  even  then  they 
would  be  unworthy  to  be  compared  with  the  heaven  of 
heavens,  into  which  holy  children  are  taken  when  the^ 
die.  Once  St,  Paul  was  taken  to  \ieaveii,«Ltv^TeX\«Tk&^ 
again  to  this  world.  Then  he  told  \v\a  \\o\y  ^^^  ^>ss^^ 
friends  that  what  he  heard  he   could  noX  \3A.Xft^>  ^^sv^ 


116  SEBMOK. 

what  be  saw  he  could  not  describe,  1  Cor.  ii.  9 :  "  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  pre- 
pared for  them  who  love  him."  Is  this  the  case? 
Then  how  glorious  must  heaven  be !  The  same  holy 
Apostle  saith,  2  Cor.  xii.  4  :  "  How  that  he  was  caught 
up  into  paradise,  and  heard  unspeakable  words  which 
it  is  not  lawful "  (that  is,  possible,)  "  for  a  man  to  utter.'* 
Is  this  the  case  ?  Then  how  glorious  must  heaven  be! 
My  dear  little  children  who  love  Christ,  who  believe 
in  Christ,  who  serve  Christ,  what  good,  what  welcome 
news  I  have  to  tell  you — that  heaven  shall  be  your 
home.  It  is  prepared  for  you,  and  Jesus  is  preparing 
you  for  it, 

"  There  i8  beyond  the  starry  sky, 
A  heav'n  of  joy  and  love ; 
And  holy  children  when  they  die 
Go  to  that  world  above." 

Methinks  I  hear  some  pious  child  say,  "  Oh,  I  long  to 
be  there." 

"  Haste,  my  beloved,  fetch  my  sonl 
Up  to  thy  bless'd  abode : 
Fly,  for  my  spirit  longs  to  see 
liy  Saviour  and  my  God." 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  I  propose  to 
show  the  blessedness  of  pious  children  in  heaven. 
"  Holy  Spirit,  give  thy  gracious  aid ! "  In  one  moment, 
when  the  body  draws  its  last  breath,  pious  children  are 
made  perfect  in  holiness,  in  wisdom,  and  in  happiness. 
They  are  removed  from  suffering,  from  sorrow,  and 
from  death.  They  are  taken  far  beyond  tlie  reach  of 
temptation,  of  sin,  of  Satan,  and  of  the  wicked.  They 
enjoy  in  heaven  the  fellowship  of  saints,  of  angels,  and 
of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  one  QnA.  And, 
to  crown  all,  they  are  employed  in  singing  the  sweetest 
aongs  of  praise  to  their  S«iviour  and  their  God. 
X   They  must  be  Weasel,  ioT  ^^^  ^^<^  ip«r  J^cit  \a  IM^ 

ness.     TThat  is  it  to  \>e  ^«t^e«x\::j  Xi^-^"^    \\\^\ft\«. 

completely  free  from  %m  ••  V^  '^^  ^  ^^^%\t^^V*«6» 


S£BMON.  117 

everj  grace.  The  dear  child  on  entering  heaven  is 
made  pure  as  angels  are  pure,  and  holy  as  God  is  holy. 
That  holiness  is  the  perfection  of  loveliness.  The 
beauty  of  the  morning  sky  is  nothing  compared  with 
this  loveliness : — 

"  These  children  are  beloved  of  God, 
WashVi  are  their  robes  in  Jesu's  blood ; 
More  spotless  than  the  purest  white. 
They  shine  in  uncreated  light." 

IL  At  death,  pious  children  are  made  perfect  in 
knowledge  and  wisdom.  Therefore,  they  must  be 
blessed.  The  first  moment  they  enter  heaven  they 
know  more  of  God,  of  creation,  of  providence,  and 
redemption,  than  the  whole  Church  of  God  on  earth. 
Oh,  how  wonderful !  "  Here,  they  saw  through  a  glass 
darkly ;  in  heaven,  they  see  face  to  face.  Here,  they 
know  in  part ;  in  heaven,  they  know  even  as  they  are 
known."     1  CJor.  xiii.  12. 

IIL  At  death,  pious  children  are  made  perfect  in 
happiness.  The  more  sin,  there  is  the  more  misery. 
The  more  there  is  of  holiness,  there  is  the  more  of 
happiness.  The  most  sinful  man  on  earth  is  the  most 
miserable  maa  ;  and  the  holiest  man  on  earth  is  the 
most  happy  man.  What,  then,  must  the  happiness  of 
heaven  b<^  where  spotless  holiness  in  all  its  glory 
reigns  ? 

**  There  streams  of  endless  pleasure  flow ; 
And  full  discoveries  of  thy  grace. 
Which  we  but  tasted  here  below. 
Spread  heavenly  joys  through  all  the  place." 

IV.  At  death,  pious  children  are  for  ever  removed 
from  svffering,  sorrow^  and  death.  No  book  could 
contain  an  account  of  the  suffering  and  sorrows,  whidi 
are  felt  at  this  moment,  by  young  and  old,  on  the  face 
of  the  earth.  And  death  is  a  mighty,  terrible  king, 
reigning  over  all  nations.  Oh,  how  bli^^^^d  ^^  ^iScaS^ 
he,  if  we  enter  that  heaven,  of  w\i\c^\\.\^  «aw\^^S^^» 

xxL  4:  "And  God   shall  wipe  away  «XV  \a«c^  ^y<*a. 

their  eyea  ;  and  thia^  shall  be  no  more  ^e»JOa>  \isafiQfi«i 


118  SERMON. 

sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more 
pain  :  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away." 

**  His  own  soft  hand  shall  wipe  the  tears 
Prom  ev'ry  weeping  eye ; 
And  pains,  and  groans,  and  griefs,  and  fears. 
And  death  itself  shall  die." 

V.  At  death,  pious  children  are  taken  for  ever 
beyond  the  reach  of  temptation  and  sin.  Here  we 
have  sin  within,  and  sin  without.  As  regularly  as  the 
sun  rises  every  day,  temptations  are  presented  before 
us  every  day.  In  heaven  there  are  no  tempters.  On 
earth  there  are  three  great  tempters.  The  first  is 
Satan ;  the  second  is  the  world ;  the  third,  our  own 
heart.  Glory  to  God,  these  are  shut  out  of  heaven, 
for  ever  shut  out,  and  shall  never  enter  there.  These 
three  are  not  only  three  tempters,  but  three  tormentors' 
Very  much  pious  children  suffer  by  them  on  earth. 
But  what  must  be  their  blessedness  in  heaven !  for  they 
are  for  ever  beyond  their  reach.  At  the  Red  Sea, 
Israel  saw  their  enemies,  the  Egyptians,  for  the  last 
time.  They  saw  them  no  more  for  ever.  The  three 
tempters  may  follow  pious  children  to  the  very  brink 
of  Jordan  ;  but  when  they  cross  the  stream,  they  shall 
see  them  no  more  for  ever.  Happy  are  those  children, 
who  can  say  and  sing  in  the  prospect  of  such  a  day— 

"  Ye  wheels  of  nature,  speed  your  course  ; 
Ye  mortal  powers,  decay ; 
Fast  as  ye  bring  the  night  of  death. 
Ye  bring  eternal  day." 

VI.  At  death,  pious  children  are  for  ever  removed 
from  the  presence  of  the  wicked.  The  pious  child  on 
earth  has  sometimes  a  wicked,  graceless,  swearing, 
drunken,  cruel  father ;  or  he  has  a  wicked,  lying, 
unkind  brother,  neglecting  the  Bible,  and  profaning 
the  Sabbath.  We  cannot  tell  how  much  the  picas 
child  suffers  by  suc\i  a  £«iI\v%t,  ot  ^uch  a  brother.  It 
would  grieve  you  to  WarYA^  «v^^^wvW»  %^^V\^\je»5b. 

At  death  he  is  relieved  itom  ^  x\!^^  xKv^^-rj  %\ifc^ 
taken  from  the  presence  o^  «.  Vy^V^^  ^^^V^^.^t^^ 


SERMON.  119 

wicked  brother,  and  he  is  admitted  to  the  joyful, 
blessed  presence  of  his  divine  Father,  and  of  his 
brethren  and  kindred  in  heaven.  In  the  hopes  of  such 
a  separation  from  wicked  relatives  on  earth,  and  of 
being  admitted  into  the  company  of  such  a  blessed 
society  of  friends  in  heaven,  he  could  say — 

"  My  soul  doth  long  for  heaven  still, 
While  life  or  breath  remains  ; 
There  my  best  friends,  my  kindred  dwell, 
There  God  my  Saviour  reigns." 

VII.  At  death,  pious  children  enjoy  the  fellowship 
of  saints.  Therefore,  how  happy  they  must  be  !  A 
person  livinji:  alone  in  the  loveliest  part  of  the  world, 
or  in  the  noblest  palace  that  was  ever  reared,  or  even 
in  heaven  itself,  could  not  be  happy.  We  cannot  be 
happy  without  society ;  but  if  society  is  not  good,  it 
cannot  give  happiness.  Spotless  saints  in  heaven  are 
perfectly  happy.  Oh,  how  happy  shall  holy  children 
be,  when  they  mingle  with  such  holy,  spotless  saints  ! 
I  feel  persuaded  that  all  the  saints  in  heaven  are  known 
to  each  other.  If  we  enter  that  holy,  happy  place,  we 
shall  not  need  to  ask,  Who  is  Adam,  or  Noah,  or 
Moses,  or  Paul,  or  John  ?  otherwise,  the  holy  phild 
would  be  a  stranger  in  the  heavenly  world.  And  how 
sweet  must  be  the  society  of  the  saints  in  heaven,  for 
their  love  is  perfect !  Soitiety,  without  love,  can  never 
give  pleasure ;  but  where  there  is  perfect  love,  there 
is  perfect  bliss. 

VIII.  In  heaven,  pious  children  enjoy  the  fellowship 
of  angels.  How  blessed,  then,  are  holy  children  in 
such  fellowship  !  Angels  are  the  loveliest  of  beings ; 
they  are  the  most  loving  of  beings ;  they  are  the  wisest 
of  beings  ;  they  are  the  happiest  of  beings.  On  earth, 
in  Old  Testament  days,  angels  often  appeared,  but  it 
was  in  a  human  shape.  The  angel,  i^ev^oxv^J^^ ^  n^^si* 
never  seen,  no  more  than  our  sou\,  v^Vi\e)ft.  vq^^  w^N^t 

seen  by  human  eye.     In   a  way  we  c«livtvo\.  ^.oxv^yKvs^ 
the  real  person  and  loveliness  ot*  augeXs  «it^  ^^'scl  V&. 


120  SEIiMON. 

heaven.  What,  then,  must  be  the  delight  -of  pious 
children,  wlien  thej  gaze  upon  beings  of  such  perfect 
loveliness  and  beauty  !  Besides,  they  are  delighted  in 
conversing  with  angels,  in  beholding  their  exalted 
wisdom  and  their  amazing  knowledge  ;  and  then,  they 
are  filled  with  overflowing  kindness  and  affection. 
How  delightful  must  be  the  smiles  of  angels.  If  a 
mother's  smile  imparts  such  joy  to  her  loving  child, 
what  joy  must  be  produced  by  angels'  smiles  ! 

IX.  In  heaven,  pious  children  enjoy  God,  and  there- 
fore they  are  fully  and  for  ever  blessed.  God  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  One  God,  is  the  over- 
flowing and  ever  flowing  fountain  of  all  happiness,  joy, 
and  bliss.  Now,  from  that  fountain,  pious  children,  in 
the  heavenly  world,  are  constantly  drinking  the  waters 
of  the  purest  joy.  Hence  it  is  said,  "In  thy  presence 
is  fulness  of  joy,  and  at  thy  right  hand  are  pleasures 
for  evermore,"  Psal.  xvi.  11.  Consider  the  astonishing 
knowledge  of  God  which  fills  the  minds  of  pious  chil- 
dren in  heaven.  And  whatever  they  know  of  God,  gives 
to  their  souls  the  purest  joy,  the  purest  bliss.  Think  of 
the  felicity  they  must  enjoy,  hearing  Christ  speak.  Were 
his  words  so  sweet  on  earth  in  his  humiliation,  what 
must  the  words  of  Christ  be  in  his  exaltation  ?  Think 
aho  of  the  smiles  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost 
If  the  smiles  of  earthly  friends  are  so  pleasing,  oh, 
what  must  the  smiles  of  Jehovah  be  !  Beloved  young  \ 
friends,  may  you  and  I  possess  that  eye  of  faith,  by 
which  we  shall  now  look  within  the  veil  and  sing : — 

"There  I  behold,  with  sweet  delight. 
The  blessed  Three  in  One  ; 
And  strong  afi^ections  fix  my  heart 
On  God's  incarnate  Son." 

Lastly.   The  blessedness  of  pious  children  in  heaven 
appears    from  the  sweet  songs   they   sing    to  their 
Saviour's  praise.     On  eauVV,  o\\?c  V^-axx.^  ^x^  >w5k\.  ^Ivcays 
in  tune  to  praise  out  Xiot^  \  \i^t^,  \.^"ax^  «x^  \s^^^ 
With   songs,  and  sigVia  v**i\Xi  ^x^^^-    ^^^^  ^^  ^^^ 


M  ART  YJROLOGY.  1 2 1 

sing  in  the  minor  ke^/,  and  feelings  of  sorrow  are 
mingled  with  feelings  of  joy.  How  different  the  praises 
beyond  the  sky !  "  The  ransomed  of  the  Lord  return 
and  come  to  Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon 
their  heads ;  they  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow 
and  sighing  have  for  ever  fled  away."  Isa.  xxxv.  10. 


it 


Oh,  what  amazing  joys  they  feel, 
While  to  their  golden  harps  they  sing  ! 

And  sit  on  every  heavenly  hill. 
And  spread  the  triumphs  of  their  King." 


MARTYROLOGY. 


ENGLISH   MARTYRS. 


Bishop  Hoopeb. 

This  excellent  man,  during  the  latter  period  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.,  went  to  Zurich,  in  Switzerland.  There  he  pursued 
Ma  sacred  theological  studies  with  great  diligence  and  success. 
When  good  King  Edward  YI.  was  raised  to  the  throne,  Mi\. 
Hooper  returned  to  England,  and  was  soon  elevated  to  the 
Bishopric  of  Worcester  and  Gloucester. 

It  was  customary,  when  Bishops  were  installed  into  their  office, 
to  have  their  arms  given  them  by  the  herald.  The  arms  assigned 
to  him  were  these  : — "  A  lamb  in  a  fiery  bush,  and  the  sunb^uns 
from  heaven  descending  upon  the  lamb."  It  is  very  striking  the 
resemblance  betwixt  the  arms,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  was 
called  to  suffer  martyrdom.  In  the  reign  of  Mary,  justly  sur- 
named  by  &ithfal  history  "  the  bloody f*  he  was  burnt  to  ashes  by 
her  command,  in  the  city  of  Gloucester,  in  the  year  1555. 

On  the  accession  of  Mary  to  the  throne,  the  Protestant  religion 
was  subverted,  and  Popery  was  established  in  its  place.    This 
was  a  state  of  things  to  which  holy  Bishops  and  ministers  could 
not  give  their  assent.     Of  course,  they  were  suddenly  exposed  to 
the  most  cruel  and  barbarous  persecutions  that  ever  disgraced 
the  history  of  man.    At  this  time  Dr.  Slealh  "Nvwa  TeeX«tfe^\»  SXva 
bishopric  of  Gloucester,  of  which  he  had  beeii  de^tSN^  V5i'^'5^^& 
Edward's  reign,  on  account  of  his  Popery,  aTvA.  aX^o'DT-'^oroxi^t 
vas  restored  to  the  dioce&Q  of  London.     BiiVioip  'H.oo^et  ^^  «^^ 


122  lCASTTSO]X>GT. 

of  the  first  who  was  sent  for  to  London,  to  stand  his  trial,  and  to 
answer  chaiges  to  be  brought  against  him  by  his  eneniies.  He 
was  thrown  into  Newgate.  There  he  was  degraded  bj  Bishop 
fionner,  who  was  appointed  to  carry  the  sentence  of  degradation 
into  execution.  On  the  day  following,  on  horseback,  and  closely 
guarded,  he  left  London  for  Gloucester.  In  this  citj  he  was 
condemned  to  be  consumed  to  ashes  at  the  stake.  A  great  mul- 
titude met  him  at  the  gates  of  the  city ;  their  lamentations  were 
80  loud,  that  his  g^uards  were  a&aid  of  a  rescue,  and  therefore 
sent  for  a^iditional  assistance.  However,  no  such  attempt  was 
made.  When  the  time  appointed  for  his  execution  arrived,  he 
was  led  between  the  two  sheriffs,  like  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter. 
On  arriving  at  the  place  appointed,  where  he  should  suffer, 
smilingly  he  looked  upon  the  stake.  It  was  near  a  great  elm 
tree,  over  against  the  college  of  priests,  where  he  had  usually 
preached.  He  kneeled  do^n  to  pray.  While  engaged  in  his 
devotions,  a  box  was  laid  upon  a  stool  before  him,  containing  s 
mtrdon  from  the  Queen,  on  condition  that  he  would  embrace  die 
ropish  faith.  On  seeing  the  box,  he  said,  "  If  you  love  my  sool, 
away  with  it ! "  A  short  while  after,  three  iron  hoops  were 
brought  forward,  one  for  his  neck,  one  for  his  middle,  and  s 
third  for  his  feet.  The  people  were  melted  into  tears ;  sobbing 
and  sighing  were  heard  on  all  sides  !  The  executioner,  who  was 
appointed  to  kindle  the  fire,  asked  his  forgiveness.  The  Bishop 
replied,  "  Thou  dost  nothing  to  offend  me  ;  God  forgive  thy  sins, 
and  do  thine  office,  I  pray  thee  ! "  There  were  bundles  of  reeds 
near  him.  He  took  up  two  bundles,  embraced  them,  and  kissed 
them,  and  put  one  under  each  arm.  The  fire  kindled  very 
slowly,  and  thus  his  agonies  were  most  cruelly  protracted.  He 
said  in  the  fire  with  a  loud  voice,  '*  0  Jesus,  the  Son  of  David, 
have  mercy  upon  me,  and  receive  my  soul."  The  last  words  he 
was  heard  to  utter  were,  '*  Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy  upon  me ; 
Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy  upon  me;  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my 
spirit ! "  A  little  after  he  bowed  forward,  and  gave  up  the  ghost 
He  was  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in  the  fire,  before  life  was 
extinct,  and  before  his  ransomed  spirit  took  its  flight  to  the 
heavenly  mansions.  It  is  nearly  three  hundred  years  since  he 
received  the  martyr's  crown  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  since 
his  enemies  have  appeared  before  God  to  answer  for  the  unjust 
death  of  holy,  righteous  men. 

When  we  think  of  the  glorious  army  of  martyrs  before  the 
throne,  we  have  just  reason  to  say, — 

"  These  are  the  saints  beloved  of  God, 

Wash'd  are  their  robes  in  Jesu  s  blood ; 
More  spotless  ihan  iVve  ^xxie^X.  ^VvV^, 
They  shine  in  nncxea\*^V\^\.r 

(To  he  continued.'^ 


123 


OUGHTS  FOR  SABBATH  SCHOOL  CHILDREN. 

BT  THB  RKV.    T.    WALLACE. 

"  Dear  children,  mark  our  counsels  well ; 
Their  worth  to  you  no  tongue  can  tell ! " 

T  Uf  Children. — Nothing  is  so  engaging  and  beautiful 
f  in  children ; — that  piety  which  is  seen  by  love  to  Jesus 
—regard  for  the  Holy  Scriptures— delight  in  prayer — and 
lest  desire  to  render  obedience  to  the  Saviour.  It  is  not 
ligh  recommendation  to  the  young,  but  it  is  their  loveliest 
jnt;  it  is  their  beauty,  their  glory,  their  crown.  Children 
numerous  Sabbath-schools  1  seek,  above  everything  else,  to 
and  unfold  the  grace  of  God.  Nothing  will  impart  to 
much  loveliness. 

•AKATioN  POR  LIFE. — How  important  it  is  that  children 
be  prepared  for  entering  on  life  ! — life,  with  all  its  duties, 
anxieties,  all  its  changes,  all  its  temptations,  all  its 
3,  all  its  dangers.  And  what  can  effectually  prepare  the 
for  life,  but  the  fear  of  God,  the  principles  of  the  Gospel 
st  regulating  their  minds,  and  controlling  their  daily  and 
conduct  ? 

ling,  dear  children,  will  fit  you  for  all  the  scenes  and  the 
itous  events  of  life  so  easily,  so  decisively,  as,  being  under 
[uence  of  that  blessed  religion  which  equally  prepares  for 
luty,  and  sustains  under  every  trial. 

[iT  LOVE  POR  THE  BiBLB. — Nothing  delights  us  so  much 
)erceive,  on  the  part  of  the  young,  sincere  and  growing 

the  Bible ; — love  to  the  doctrines  which  it  unfolds — to 
Kiepts  which  it  enjoins — to  histories  which  it  furnishes — 

parables  which  it  narrates — to  the  great  and  precious 
es  which  it  makes  to  the  youngest  and  weakest  believer — 
the  beautiful  and  striking  incidents  in  which  it  abounds. 
.  gladdens  our  heart  to  see  the  young  perusing,  with  deep 
t,  the  sacred  pages — examining  one  part  of  the  Bible  and 
r,  from  a  desire  to  be  correctly  acquainted  with  the  word 
—making  the  Holy  Scripture  "  the  man  of  their  counsel" — 

the  New  Testament  as  their  guide  through  life,  as  "  the 
Eir  "  by  which  they  are  directed  in  their  course  to  a  glo- 
mmortality ! 

dren,  do  you  love  the  Bible  1    Remember  that  this  is  a 
»n  of  vital  moment.    You  cannot  love  Christ  without  love 
Bible— you  cannot  delight  in  prayer  without  delight  in 
"iptures — you  cannot  value  holiness  uii\e«&  "^oM^^xskfc  MJ^i 
►/  Chd—you  cannot  be  prepared  for  "heaven.,  wt^eas^  ^ws^ 
^e  Gospel  to  your  hearts.     How  ardenW^  "ve  \otl^  \>QaX 
\bbatbBchool  child,  and  especially  e^er^  elder  «»Om^«c> 
r  consult,  highly  value,  and  snpremeV^  "Vw«  ^^^  ^^5^^^  >■ 


124  THE   BLIND   MAN. 

Children  in  the  Sunday-school. — What  advantages  do  Sab- 
bath-school children,  throughout  the  extent  of  the  land,  not 
enjoy  !     How  valuable  is  the  instruction  imparted  !    How  ad- 
mirable is  the*  discipline  maintained  !    How  kind,  wise,  and 
devoted,  are  the  generality  of  teachers  who  are  anxious  to  bnng 
the  young  in  our  Sabbath-schools  to  Jesus  Christ  I    How  many 
prayers  are  presented  for  the  children  !     How  many  plans  aic 
concerted  for  their  benefit !     How  many  efforts  are  made  to  do 
them  good  !    What  patience  is  exemplified  by  teachers  !  What 
love  is  displayed  !   What  zeal  is  discovered  !    What  perseverance 
in  Christian  labour  is  indulged  ! 

Sabbath-school  children !  never  was  there  a  period  wha 
greater  or  higher  privileges  were  enjoyed  by  the  young,  thaa 
those  which  you  now  realize.  Value  them,  we  beseedd  jo* 
Improve  them,  we  entreat  you.  Pray  for  a  blessing  on  ihoM 
through  whom  you  experience  these  privileges,  we  conjurt  jw^ 
and  express  sincere  gratitude  to  God  that  you  are  so  higbtf 
favoured. 

Love  the  Sabbath-school.  Love  your  teachers,  and  eviaM 
that  you  do  love  them  in  reality,  by  prizing  their  instruGtioHH 
honouring  their  character,  praying  that  their  counsels  ufi 
admonitions  may  be  blessed  to  you,  and  that  you  may  meet  joor 
kind  and  affectionate  teachers  in  heaven, — 

"  There  to  sing  redeeming  grace. 
In  sweetest,  purest  strains ; 
While  myriads  of  the  human  race, 
Joy  ihat.Immanuel  reigns.'' 


THE  BLIND  MAN. 

SoMB  time  ago,  I  spent  a  few  weeks  at  that  beauUfol  aeaptfi 
town,  Brighton.  On  passing  through  the  Level,  which  is  a  fiflU 
of  grass  surrounded  by  a  garden,  situated  at  the  north  partof  tkl 
town  and  opened  to  the  public,  I  felt  fatigued,  and  sat  dowA  ^ 
rest  on  one  of  the  seats.  My  attention  was  soon  aitractad  toi 
poor  man,  who  was  reclining  at  a  distance  from  me,  with  a  book 
m  his  hand.  I  soon  discovered  he  was  blind,  and  what  In 
was  reading  was  the  Bible ;  upon  questioning  him,  I  found  In 
had  lost  bis  sight  about  three  years,  from  weakness  of  the  nene 
through  illness.  I  could  not  help  admiring  his  thankfulnestti 
Gk)d,  for  enabling  him  to  read  bis  holy  word,  by  pladng  hii 
fingerd  on  raised  lellox^  ^mi^^,  dear  young  friends,  we  019 
ieam  a  lesson  from  Ui\a  ipooi  mwi\  \)ciwv^\kfc^"w^  ^^nved  • 
meht,  yet  God  liad  impwle^  \»  V\mHXv^V\^^\j^^vS.Wi^^ 


ANECDOTES,   ETC.  125 

rpon  ns ;  that  whatever  trials  or  troables  we  may  be  called  to 
',  we  may  bow  with  filial  submission,  remembering  that, 

'^  Kind,  gentle  is  the  hand  that  smites, 
However  keen  the  smart. 
If  sorrow's  discipline  can  chase 
One  evil  from  the  heart."  B.  L.  F. 


ANECDOTES,  &c. 


SUBMISSION. 

'  Wben  Tenebazus  was  arrested,  he  drew  his  sword  and  defended 
ttaself;  but  when  they  told  him  that  they  came  to  take  him  to 
lift  king,  he  willingly  yielded.  So  a  Saint,  when  he  is  reminded 
his  afflictions  are  to  bring  him  nearer  to  God,  yields  and 
the  rod — he  acknowledges  the  divine  sovereignty  of  love. 

SANCTIFIED  AFFLICTION. 

'  Whbv  Munster  lay  sick,  and  his  friends  asked  him  "  How  he 
ttd,"  he  pointed  to  his  ulcers,  and  said,  "  These  are  God's  gems 
md  jewds,  wherewith  he  decketh  his  best  friends ;  and  to  me 
bey  are  more  precious  than  all  the  gold  and  silver  in  the  world." 

THE  SABBATH-DAY. 

The  Sabbath-day  was  anciently  called  "  Dies  lucisy*  the  " day 
'^  light "  also  "  Megina  dierum,"  the  '*  queen  qfdays.*'  Heaven 
>8  called  the  Sabbath,  to  make  those  who  love  Sabbaths  long  fof 
learen. 

Judge  Hale  says,  "  I  have  by  long  and  sound  experience  found 
bftt  the  due  observance  of  this  day,  and  of  the  duties  of  it,  have 
leen  of  singular  comfort  and  advantage  to  me.  The  observance 
if  it  hath  even  had  joined  to  it  a  blessing  through  the  week. 
ind  on  the  other  side,  when  I  have  been  negligent  of  these  duties, 
he  rest  of  the  week  has  been  unsuccessful  and  unhappy  to  my 
ecular  employment.  This,"  says  he,  "  I  do  not  write  lightly  or 
Qconsiderately,  but  upon  a  long  and  sound  experience  and 
ibservation." 

LOVE  BEGETS  LOVE. 

Thihii  is  an  interesting  little  story  told  of  a  daughter  of 
Dr.  Doddridge,  a  little  girl,  who  died  before  she  had  finished  her 
Ifth  year.    She  was  a  great  darling  with  most  of  the  friends  of 
ler  parents,  and  often  received  invitations  to  different  places  at 
;he  same  time.    Her  father  asked  her  on.  one  occ^ttsvo^  ^V^\> 
nade  erery  body  lore  her  so  well  1    She  answered  mXXi  ^'c^a^* 
'mpUoity  and  spirit,  "Indeed,  papa,  1  camiol  l\i\T^s.,\wv!^^«e»\\. 
f  thai  I  lore  everybody,"    Poor  little  tMng  \  ft\ie  ^V^l  Tio\»\i»ss^ 


126  ANECDOTES,  ETC* 

that  Bhe  had  proclaimed  the  true  philosophy  of  the  matter ;  she 
did  not  know  that  she  had  repeated  the  sentiment  of  a  famoos 
ancient  sage  — "  Love,  if  you  wish  to  be  loved." —  Bnm't 
Lambs  of  the  Flock. 

LYING  AWFULLY  PUNISHED. 

One  day  there  happened  a  tremendous  storm  of  lightning  mi 
thunder,  as  Archbishop  Leighton  was  going  from  Glasgow  to 
Dunblane.  He  was  descried,  when  at  a  distance,  by  two  me&rf 
bad  character.  They  had  not  courage  to  rob  him ;  but  widuos 
to  fall  on  some  method  of  extorting  money  from  him,  one  slid, 
'*  1  will  lie  down  by  the  wayside,  as  if  I  were  dead,  and  you  shiH 
inform  the  Archbishop  that  I  was  killed  by  the  lightning,  ind 
beg  money  of  him  to  bury  me  **  When  the  Archbishop  arriTed 
at  the  spot,  the  wicked  wretch  told  him  the  fabricated  8(017. 
He  sympathised  with  the  survivor,  g^ve  him  money,  and  pM^ 
ceeded  on  his  journey.  But  when  the  man  returned  to  his  ooa* 
panion,  he  found  him  really  lifeless  !  Immediately  he  begut* 
exclaim  aloud,  **  Oh,  sir,  he  is  dead  !  Oh,  sir,  he  is  dead  ! "  Oi 
this  the  Archbishop,  discovering  the  fraud,  left  the  man  witk 
this  important  reflection,  "  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  trifle  with 
the  judgments  of  God.'*  J.  W.  A, 

OMNISCIENCE  OF  GOD. 

The  omniscience  of  God  is  a  sort  of  pleasing  reflection  to  1 
good  man,  under  the  struggle  he  maintains  with  his  corruption, 
under  the  reproaches  of  enemies  or  the  suspicions  of  friends^ 
under  trouble ;  and  when  at  a  throne  of  grace,  imploring  his 
blessing.  But  how  useful  may  this  reflection  be  as  a  check  to 
sin,  and  as  a  motive  to  virtue  !  One  of  the  heathen  philosophei^ 
therefore,  recommended  it  to  his  pupils,  as  the  best  means  to  ii* 
duce,  and  enable  them  to  behave  worthily,  to  imagine  that  soni 
very  distinguished  character  was  always  looking  upon  them.  But 
what  was  the  eye  of  a  Cato  to  the  eye  of  God  ?  who  would  not 
approve  themselves  onto  him  1 

"  Oh,  may  these  thoughts  possess  my  breast. 
Where'er  I  rove,  where'er  I  rest ; 
Nor  let  my  weaker  passions  dare 
Consent  to  sin,  for  God  is  there." 

PERSEVERANCE. 

"  An  able  seaman,"  says  Mr.  Cecil, "  once  said  to  me,  *  In  fierce 

storms^  we  have  but  one  resource :  we  keep  the  ship  in  a  certain 

position ;  we  cannot  act  in  any  way  but  this :  we  fix  her  head  to 

the  wind,  and  in  this  way  we  weather  the  storm.' "     This  ia  t 

picture  of  the  Chnatian.-,  Yi^  «tA«aNWii%  \ft  i^^t  himself  in  a  ce^ 

tain  position.    He  sa^a,  IA.7  \io^«>  wi^  m^  V^-^  ^^^  Va.  0^^^^.%  \a  ^^ 

iaithful     The  man  w\iO  \ia.a\^TDX.  >3d:\^  ^\si^  q\  V^ias^^x^^  wv 

gation,  'shall  weatliex  iVi^  ft\.otm%  ol  \:\m^  wA  ^\  ^\«i:tti\jj. 


127 

A  FEW  MAXIMS  FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

BY  THE  BEY.    T.   WALLACE. 

lACH  yourselves.  Exercise  your  minds  early.  Be  not  de- 
ent  on  others.    Bise,  at  length,  above  reliance  on  any. 

3ver  be  neglectful  of  prayer ;  it  will  bring  light  into  the 

I — peace  into  the  conscience — -joy  into  the  heart.     Have  a 

for  prayer — a  place  for  prayer ;  and  when  you  pray,  endea- 

to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  prayer.    Prayer  will  crown  you 

the  richest  blessings. 

st  your  minds  be  early  stored  with  what  is  excellent.  If  the 
Is  of  the  young  be  empty  of  good,  will  they  not  be  filled 
the  evil  which  so  pressingly  surrounds  them  in  a  world  like 
;  and  will  not  that  evil  be  soon  developed,  and  be  very  rank 
pernicious  in  its  growth  and  consequences? 

>  avoid  sin,  remember  that  God  always  sees  you — that  he 
3  your  character — that  he  scrutinizes  your  heart.  Is  it  not 
wful  consideration,  that  you  always  move  in  the  view  of 

9 

• 

.  looking  forward  to  your  entrance  into  the  world,  never 
t  that  you  can  do  anything  in  your  own  strength.  This 
ght  will  ever  guide,  ever  admonish,  ever  humble — ever 
ce  you  to  rely  on  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  teach,  to  invigorate, 
ifend,  to  fortify,  to  prepare,  to  mature. 

Iways  have  death  before  you.  You  may  die  young.  Ask, 
/  hour,  "  Am  I  ready  for  the  grave  ?  ready  for  the  judgment  ] 
Y  for  eternity  1 "  If  you  are  not  prepared  to  die,  how  fearful ! 
sially  when  you  consider,  that  in  a  moment  you  may  be 
ged  into  eternity  i 


POETRY. 

THE   mother's  address  TO   HER  BLIND  CHILD. 

"  I  FEEL  for  thee,  my  darling  boy. 

Nor  can  repress  my  tears ; 
Thy  blindness  chills  thy  mother's  joys. 

And  deepens  all  her  fears. 
She  cannot  tell  to  strangers  round 

How  much,  she  grieves  for  thee ; 

When  bearing  oft  thy  merry  sound.. 

She  thinks — ^thou  canst  not  see  \ 


128  POETRT. 

"  I  look  upon  thy  smiling  face. 

And  view  thy  &ther  there ; — 
His  mirror'd  every  manly  grace  ;— 

His  death  was  hard  to  bear. 
I  should  not  weep,  my  darling  boy. 

If  only  thou  could'st  see, — 
For  thou  art  all  thy  mother's  joy,    • 

24  ow  Ae  has  gone  from  me  I 

**  I  lead  thee  in  the  garden  fair. 


■i« 


leaa  laee  la  lae  garaeu  lair,  ,  ^ 

And  take  thee  by  the  hand ;  *^3  , 

I  speak  of  many  a  flower  there —  ..    «£ 

Rich,  beautiful,  and  grand ;  •' " '  W 

But  how  I  wish,  as  on  we  walk,  '    ^^"■ 

That  thou,  my  child,  conldst  see  ;  •■'  ** 

And,  yet,  I  hear  thy  happy  talk,  •  '^ 

And  thstt  brings  joy  to  me  ! 

"  Thou  canst  not  in  the  meadows  nm. 

Nor  gather  cowslips  sweet ; 
Thou  canst  not  see  the  golden  snn. 

Nor  stars  at  evening  greet ;  * 

Thou  canst  not  view  the  lofty  hill. 

Or  lovely  woodland  glade ; 
Of  glorious  prospect  take  thy  fill, 

Which  G^  in  goodness  made  1 

"  And  yet,  my  child,  though  blind  then  art, 

And  always  thou  must  be. 
Thy  mind  is  opening,  and  thy  heart 

Is  full  of  love  to  me. 
Then  come,  my  boy,  and  kiss  me  now. 

And  ever  to  me  cling, — 
Thy  mother  feels  that  only  thou 

Canst  comfort  to  her  bring. 

"  She  will  be  near  to  be  thy  guide, 
To  tend  thee  night  and  day ; 
She'll  never  wander  from  thy  side. 

From  mom  till  evening  grey ; 
And  though  that  God  hath  form'd  thee  blind. 

Who  pours  the  radiant  sun. 
Yet  we  will  aye  look  up  and  say — 
Father,  Thy  will  be  done  1 " 

Rev.  T.  Wallici 


SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


In  Great  Britain  there  are  two  descriptions  of  rep- 
tiles. To  the  one  is  given  the  name  make,  whicli  is 
not  Tenomous,  and  therefore  quite  harmless.  It  is 
of  considerable  length,  and  is  adorned  with  glowing 
colours.  To  the  other  ia  given  the  name  adder.  It 
is  of  a  sandy  grey  colour,  and  in  its  form  thick  and 
short.  It  has  no  elegance  of  shape,  and  its  sppear- 
aace  ia  peculiarly  rt^pulsiTe.  It  is  very  'venomous.  Its 
bite,  or  ating,  ia  mortal,  and  in  aay  case  recovery  is 
exceedingly  difficult  and  i^are. 

The  Adder  may  he  defined  as  a  venomous  animal. 
It  is  brought  forth  alive,  and  not  by  egg»,     Iv  \%  Ttvati^ 
shorter  than  the  snake  ;  its  belly  ia  lAacW*aVi*^^^^^'^* 
tiack  epota  upon  its  back. 


130       SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  BISTORT. 

The  word  "  adder  "  is  used  five  times  in  our  transla- 
tion.    It  18  first  used  in  Gkn.  xlix.  17,  as  a  figurative 
and  prophetic  description  of  the   tribe  of   Dan,  bj 
Jacob,  the  dying  patriarch  :  "  Dan  shall  be  a  serpent 
bj  the  way,  an  Adder  in  the  path,  that  biteth  tk 
horse's  heels,  so  that  his  rider  shall  fall  backward." 
The  word  adder  in  this  verse  is  in  the  original  pSTBV 
Shephip/um.     This  Hebrew  name  signifies  literallj  the 
squeeze?^  or  biter.     The  Shephiphon  is  believed  to  be 
the  CerasteSy  a  viper  of  a  light  brown  colour,  which 
lurks  in  the  sand,  and  in  the  tracks  formed  by  wheels 
in    the    highways.      There,   in  its   lurking-place,  it 
watches  its  opportunity,  like  Satan,  the  cunning  se^ 
pent,  and  suddenly  bites  the  unwary  traveller,  and  the 
legs  of  horses,  or  other  animals,  which  may  disturb 
its  solitude. 

In  Ps.  Iviii.  4,  5,  it  is  said  of  the  wicked  who  de- 
spise the  counsels  and  warnings  of  God,  ''Their  poison 
is  like  the  poison  of  a  serpent :  they  are  like  the  deaf 
Adder  which  stoppeth  her  ear;  which  will  not  hearken 
to  the  voice  of  cliarmers,  charming  never  so  wisely" 
On  the  species  of  Adder  to  which  the  Psalmist  refers, 
music  produces  a  very  remarkable  effect.  They  swell 
at  the  sound  of  music  ;  they  will  raise  up  perpendicu- 
larly one  half  of  their  bodies.  Some  of  them,  under 
the  tuition  and  control  of  the  conjurors  in  eastern 
countries,  will  even  move  in  time  to  the  tune  played 
on  an  instrument.  An  Eastern  traveller  once  told  oe 
from  her  own  actual  observation,  that  they  are  brought 
out  of  their  holes  by  the  sound  of  music,  when  the 
natives  lay  hold  of  them  with  great  ezpertness,  and 
deprive  them  of  their  teeth,  or  fangs,  by  which  they 
inflict  such  deadly  wounds.  It  is  abo  said  that  tame 
Adders  have  been  taught  to  put  the  point  of  their  tail 
to  stop  the  ear  from  hearing  the  notes  of  the  musician. 

In  Ps.  xci.  13,  the  enemies  of  believers   are  com- 
pared to  the  Adder  \  axv^  \\.  \%»  ^Totc&sftd^  "  Thou  shah 
tread  upon  the  Adder."    liv  ^*.  Q.Ti,^,  VJcifc  \smSSnj^^ 
of  the  wicked  is  compaxe^  lo  X\^^  ^cha^Ti  ^^  ^15,  X^^t  v 


SERMON.  131 

'  Adders'  poison  is  under  their  lips."     How  striking  I 
lolomou  compares  the  effect  of  drunkenness  to   the 
Ldder's  sting,  Prov.  xxiii.  32  :  *^  At  last  it  biteth  like 
serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  Adder." 


SERMON  IX.* 

SELIEYERS    CONSIDERED   UNDER    THE    FIGURE   OF   A 

TREE. 


And  Tie  shall  he  like  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers  of  waier, 
that  bringeth  forHi  his  fruit  in  his  season  ;  his  leaf  also  shaU 
not  wither;  and  whatsoever  he'doeth  shaU prosper,^' — Ps.  i.  3. 

Iy  young  friends,  if  you  read  the  Bible  with  care,  you 
ill  see  that  there  are  many  things  to  which  the  godly 
re  compared  in  that  sacred  book.  They  are  compared 
)  things  which  have  life.  For  example,  they  are  com- 
ared  to  a  dove^  Song  ii.  14  :  "  O  my  dove,  that  art  in 
le  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  places  of  the  stairs, 
it  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice ;  for 
veet  is  thy  voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely." 
liey  are  also  compared  to  sheep  and  lambs,  Isa.  xl.  1 1 : 
He  shall  feed  his  flock  like  a  shepherd :  he  Shall 
Either  the  lambs  with  his  arm,  and  carry  them  in  \m 
3Som,  and  shall  gently  lead  those  that  are  with 
aung.*' 

Believers  are  compared  to  things  without  life.  They 
•e  called  a  temple,  Eph.  ii.  21  :  "In  whom  all  the 
iilding  fitly  framed  together  groweth  unto  an  holy 
smple  in  the  Lord."  Tliey  are  called  a  house,  1  Pet. 
.6:  "Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual 
7use,  an  holy  priesthood,  to  offer  up  s^ItiXvwjX  ^^^\Vvv^^^> 

'  The  substance  of  this  sermon  waa  delixexe^  \.o  OcSi^^^'^*  '^^ 
helftelda  Church,  JKirkaldy,  Norlli  Britaxa,  Va  K\v©aaX^»sX- 


132  SERMOV. 

Acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ.*'     They  are  oonr- 
pared  to  lilies^  Song  ii.  2  :  "As  the  lily  among  thorns, 
so  is  my  love  among  the  daughters."     They  are  com- 
pared to  a  mountainy  Isa.  ii.  2  :  '*  And  it  shall  oome 
to  pass  in  the  last  days,  that  the   mountain   of  the 
Lord's  house  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  shall  be  exalted  above  the   hills  ;  and  ail 
nations  shall  flow  unto  it."     In  several  places  in  the 
word  of  God  believers  are  compared  to  trees.     One  of 
the  most  striking  of  these  is  in  our  text.   Here  the  tree 
is  presented  before  us  in  all  its  grandeur;  in  its  roota^it? 
stem,  its  branches,  its  leaves,  its  fruit,   its  situation, 
its  duration,  and  its  height.     Our  text  contains  a  most 
lovely  picture  ;  and  it  is  a  most  just,  glowing,  and 
pleasing  picture  of  the  people  of  God.     Oh,  my  young 
friends,    by   converting    grace  may  that   picture   be 
yours  !     May  it  be  mine  !     How  very  diiferent  the 
picture  of  the  wicked  !     Head  it  with  me,  and  may  it 
affect  our  hearts.     "  For  he  shall  be  like  the  heath  in 
the  desert,  and  shall  not  see  when  good  cometh  ;  but 
shall  inhabit  the  parched  places  in  the  wilderness,  in  a 
salt  land,"  Jer.  xvii.  6  ;  "  The  ungodly  are  not  so : 
but  are  like  the  chaff  which  the  wind  driveth  away," 
Psal.  i.  4.     Dear  young  friends,  may  God  prevent  that 
you  should  be  like  unto  the  chaff !     In  the  Epistle  of 
Jude,  ver.    12,    the  wicked   are  described  as    "trees 
whose   fruit    withereth,    without    fruit,    twice   dead, 
plucked   up  by  the  roots."      And  to  crown    all,  our 
blessed  Lord    describes  them    as    "tares    which  are 
gathered  together  and  burned  in  the  fire," — Matt.  xiii. 
40 ;  and  as  rotten  branches,  only  fit  to  be  cast  into 
the  flames  and  consumed,  John  xv.  6 :    **  If  a  man 
abide  not  in  me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and  n 
withered ;  and  men  gather  them,  and  cast  them  into  the 
fire,  and  they  are  burned."  That  will  be  a  dreadful  day 
when  the  angels  shall  gather  the  wicked  like  rotten 
ifranches,  bind  tbem  \i\\,o  Ww^^^,  ^xv^  <5»&\.  n^^^yq,  ^  vile 
refuse  into  that  ftre  t\\av  ^\itiXN.  xv^x^t  \i^  o^^w^^^X 
May  God  preserve  us  ?vom  wciV^  ^o^m\ 


SERHOK.  138 

By  the  aid  of  the  Hoty  Spirit,  I  now  proceed  to 
speak  of  the  young  believer  as  a  tree. 

L  In  his  natural  state — that  is,  before  he  was  con- 
verted— ^lie  was  a  wild  tree.  He  was  one  of  Satan's 
trees,  growing  in  the  wide  wilderness  of  sin,  corruption, 
guilt  and  misery.  At  that  time,  he  was  a  wild  vine : 
"  Yet  I  had  planted  thee  a  noble  vine,  wholly  a  right 
seed  :  how  then  art  thou  turned  into  the  degenerate 
plant  of  a  strange  vine  unto  me  ?"  Jer.  ii.  21.  This 
wild  vine  was  very  fruitful  ;  it  produced  wild  grapes, 
poisonous  clusters.  Swearing,  lying,  disobedience, 
sabbath-breaking,  quarrelling,  hatred,  and  strife,  were 
the  poisonous  dusters  of  wild  grapes  which  this  wild 
vine  produced. 

The  young  Christian,  before  he  became  one  of 
Christ's  trees,  was  a  wild  olive,  Tiierefore  the  holy 
Apostle  says,  "  Thou  wert  cut  out  of  the  olive  tree, 
which  is  wild  by  nature,  and  wert  graffed  contrary  to 
nature  into  a  good  olive  tree,"  Rom.  xi.  24.  Dear 
children,  who  are  now  Christ's  trees  by  grace,  remem- 
ber every  day  that  you  were  once  Satan's  trees  bj 
nature.  You  have  reason  to  say,  and  to  say  with 
wonder,  thankfulness  and  humility, 

"  Sinners  by  nature,  we  belong 
To  the  wild  olive  wood; 
Gtmce  took  us  from  the  barren  tree. 
And  grafts  us  in  the  good." 

Watts,  Book  I.  H.  Hi. 

II.  It  was  in  the  day  of  converting  grace  the  young 
heliever  was  changed  into  a  tree  of  Christ.     Nothing 
but  Divine  grace  could  have  produced  such  a  change 
as  making  a  wild  olive  a  good  olive  ;  as  making  a  de- 
generate  vine  a  noble  vine.     Nothing  but  Almighty 
power  could  change  a  lion  into  a  lamb,  or  a  serpent 
into  a  harmless  dove  ;  or  the  thorn  into  the  fir  tree, 
and  the  brier  into  the  myrtle  tree.     Ajci^  tvqnXvvw^VnsX 
Almighty  grace  can  convert  the  BO\x\  eveu  ol  ^\v\.^^ 
child,  and  make  him  one  of  Christ's  ti^A^Q^vn^  ^«»^- 
Have  you  experience4    this    change,    t\u*  ^otAx.^*M 


]34  SERMOir. 

change  ?    Then  what  reason  have  you  to  sing  in  joy- 
ful strains  : — 

"  Great  Gk)d  !  I  own  thy  power  divine. 
That  works  to  change  this  heart  of  mine  ; 
I  would  be  fonn'd  anew,  and  bless 
The  wonders  of  creating  Grace  ! " 

Watts,  Book  II.  H.  160. 

III.  The  young  believer  is  a  tree  planted  by  Christ. 
He  entered  into  the  wilderness  of  sin,  and  plucked  up 
the  wild  tree.  He  changed  its  wild  nature  by  his 
saving  power.  Then  he  takes  and  plants  it  in  the 
lovely  garden  of  his  grace. 

And  when  he  plants  it  there,  he  will  for  ever  keep 
it  and  preserve  it,  until  he  transplant  it  to  the  paradise 
of  glory.  How  very  beautifully  Isaiah  speaks  of 
saints  as  planted  by  Christ :  and  his  words  show  how 
greatly  Jesus  delights  in  saints  as  his  own  spiritual 
plantation.  May  the  Holy  Spint  impress  the  words 
upon  your  youthful  minds  !  Isa.  Ix.  21  :  "  Thy 
people  shall  be  all  righteous :  they  shall  inherit  the 
land  for  ever,  the  branch  of  my  plantinf/y  the  work  of 
ray  hands,  that  I  may  be  glorified."  In  the  following 
chapter  the  prophet  shows  that  the  great  end  of  Christ's 
preaching  and  of  his  visit  and  mission  into  our  world 
was,  "  That  they  might  be  called  trees  of  righteousness, 
the  planting  of  the  Lord,  that  he  might  be  glorified,* 
Isa.  Ixi.  3.  That  was  a  wonderful  day,  a  day  never 
to  be  forgotten,  when  the  plantation  took  place.  It 
^as  the  day  of  conversion  ;  it  was  the  day  of  the 
Saviour's  power.  When  the  young  saint  thinks  of 
that  day,  oh,  what  reason  has  he  to  sing, 

"  O  blessed  power  1    0  glorious  day  ! 
What  a  large  harvest  shall  ensue. 
When  converts  who  thy  grace  obey 
Exceed  the  drops  of  momlDg  dew." 

Watts,  Pb.  110. 

IV.  The  young  bdve^^x  \^  ^^  Xx^^xooted.  Yc^^:3tsrv^ 
Mph.  ill.  17,  18 :  *'  T\iat  7^,^iev[i^TOol«sd.%xA.^w«AR^ 
uloYQ,  may  be  ab\fi  to  ^orcx^^OaRAA  ^\^V  i^  ^m. 


SERMON.  135 

what  is  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth,  and  height ; 
and  to  know  the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  know- 
ledge." CoL  ii.  6,  7  :  "  As  ye  have  therefore  received 
Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  so  walk  ye  in  him :  rooted  and 
built  up  in  him,  and  stablished  in  the  faith,  as  ye 
have  been  taught,  abounding  therein  with  thanks- 
giving." 

There  are  many  wonderful  things  connected  with 
the  roots  of  a  tree.  The  roots  are  as  numerous  as  the 
branches.  If  the  branches  are  veiy  numerous,  so  are 
the  roots.  If  a  tree  is  very  high,  the  roots  are  very 
deep.  What  a  noble  sight  is  a  large  oak  tree  ot 
cedar  tree  !  I  saw  the  largest  cedar  tree  in  Britain,  in 
the  park  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough.  Never  shall 
I  forget  the  sight.  Now  I  feel  as  if  it  were  before  my 
eyes.  But  it  was  small,  nay  insignificant,  compared 
with  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  in  the  days  of  Solomon. 
They  reached  at  that  period  the  height  of  two  hundred 
feet.  Such  trees  were  striking  emblems  of  believers, 
Christ's  trees,  his  plantation.  How  numerous,  how 
wide  spreading,  how  deep  the  roots  of  such  wonderful 
trees  as  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  !  Consider  how  neces- 
sary roots  are  for  the  growth  and  for  the  security  of 
trees.  The  roots  receive  nourishment  from  the  earth, 
and,  by  a  remarkable  law  which  God  has  fixed,  these 
roots  send  up  nourishment  over  the  whole  tree  ;  yes, 
to  the  most  distant  twig,  or  leaf,  or  blossom.  Oh,  how 
wonderful  I  Then,  also,  these  roots  are  essential  to 
the  safety  of  the  trees.  Were  it  not  for  the  roots,  very 
soon  the  winds  of  heaven  would  level  with  the  ground 
the  loftiest  trees. 

It  is  now  time  to  ask,  Where  are  young  saints, 
Christ's  trees,  rooted  ?  It  is  in  Christ  himself.  As 
the  roots  of  a  tree  lay  firm  hold  of  the  ground,  the 
faculties  and  the  graces  of  the  believer's  soul  lay  hold 
of  Christ.  And  it  is  a  firm  hold ;  so  firm,  so  y«x^ 
firm,  that  no  furious  storms  of  tempxaliow,  ot  %\3i.^«n»%^ 
or  sorrow,  shall  ever  be  able  to  tftake  \>^^tKv\^V.  %ji 
their  £rm  hold.     What  a  blessing,  ^w^i^at  ^  <s««iKsst^»  Sa 


1:36  SERMON.  . 

Xh\&  !  As  roots  derive  nourishment  froni  tlie  earthy 
tike  souls  of  young  believers  deri-ve  nourishment  from 
Christ.  How  strikingly  the  following  lines  describe 
the  young  righteous  tree  rooted  in  Christ,  and  receiving 
spiritual  sap  and  nourishment : — 

"  He  like  a  tree  shall  thrive, 
With  waters  near  the  root ; 
Fresh  as  the  leaf  his  name  shall  live. 
His  works  are  heavenly  fruit." — Watts,  Ps.  1. 

V.  The  young  believer  is  a  tree  of  great  spiritual 
beauty.  Hosea  xiv.  6  :  "  His  beauty  shall  be  as  the 
olive  tree,  and  his  smell  as  Lebanon."  The  olive  tree 
18  very  beautiful.  See  how  green  and  how  fiiesh  are 
its  leaves.  It  is  also  evergreen.  It  is  beautiful,  not 
merely  in  some  months  of  the  year  ;  it  is  verdant  and 
beautiful  all  the  year  round.  See,  too,  how  beautiful 
it  is  in  its  blossoms,  and  in  its  fruit.  Fit  emblem  of 
young  saints,  who  are  green  olives  in  Grod*s  house. 
In  Psalm  cxxviii.  3,  young  saints  are  thus  described : 
*'  Thy  children  shall  be  like  olive  plants  round  about 
thy  table."  Blessed  are  those  children  who  can  say 
with  the  holy  Psalmist,  Psalm  lii.  8,  *'  But  I  am  Hke 
a  green  olive  tree  in  the  house  of  God  :  I  trust  in  the 
mercy  of  God  for  ever  and  ever." 

Pious  children  are  beautiful  plants  in  Christ'tf 
garden.  Their  beauty  is  the  loveliness  of  grace  ;  and 
this  is  loveliness  that  shall  never  fade  ;  this  is  beauty 
which  shall  never  pass  away-  The  beauty  of  the 
iovely  youthful  cheek  shall  pass  away  ;  the  beauty  of 
the  loveliest  leaves  and  of  the  most  fragrant  blossoms 
shall  pass  away ;  but  the  loveliness  of  grace  shall 
remain  for  ever,  and  flourish  in  immortal  bloom. 

"  The  plants  of  grace  shall  ever  live ; 
Nature  decays,  hat  graoe  must  thrive ; 
Time  that  doth  all  things  else  impair. 
Still  makes  them  flouri^  strong  and  fair." 

Conclusion.— L.et  me^  >ie&e««^  ^w^^  Tar5  -5^\«r|, 
frienda,  to  present  tU^  SoW^Vvck^s,  ^\:vC\wi%  \Ke5issK.  ^ 


EXCELLENCES  OF   THS   BIBLS.  137 

throne  of  grace  :  *'  O  Jesus,  remove  me  from  the 
wilderness  of  a  nataral  state.  Oh,  change  my  wild 
n&ture,  and  make  me  a  righteous  tree.  Oli,  Jesus, 
mercifully  plant  me  in  the  garden  of  thy  Ciiurch. 
And  may  I  be  rooted  and  grounded  in  thy  love  I" 
Then  sing  sweetly,    • 

*'  Lord,  'tis  a  pleasant  thing  to  stand 
In  gardens  planted  hy  thy  hand; 
tjet  me  within  thy  courts  be  seen, 
Like  a  young  cedar,  fresh  and  green." 

Watts,  Ps.  92. 

(7*0  he  continued.) 


EXCELLENCES  OF  THE  BIBLE, 

ALPHABETICALLY  ABRANGED. 

{Continued /roni  page  75.) 

FiUEND,  is  a  name  xvhich  the  Bible  deserves,  and 
whrch  shows  its  excellence.  One  of  the  most  valuable 
things  on  earth  is  a  friend.  And  they  who  take 
the  Bible  as  their  friend,  find  that  they  are  the 
possessors  of  a  blessing  of  the  most  transcendent 
excellence.  That  must  be  a  wonderful  friend,  the' 
worth  of  whom  exceeds  the  power  of  language  to 
express.  The  Bible  is  such  a  friend  ;  for  no  language 
has  been  ever  found  sufficient  to  describe  its  worth. 
Do  you  ask  what  kind  of  a  friend  is  God's  Word  ? 

It  is  a  wise  friend.  It  is  as  full  of  wisdom  as  the 
firmament  is  full  of  light  when  the  sun  is  shining  in 
all  the  splendour  of  noonday.  Dear  children,  take  the 
Bible  for  your  wise  friend;  then,  by  the  blessing  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  you  shall  be  made  wise  unto  «»«An«A\w^« 
Therefore  Paul  said  to  young  Timotlay,  2T\x£i.vC\A^, 
''  From  a  child  thou  hast  known  the  HoVy  ';s>cn^\\«^"^'% 
which  are  able  to  make  thee  wise  unlo  saVi«X?iftYvr 


^^ 


138  EXCELLENCES   OF  THE    BIBL& 

The  Bible  is  a  fyure  friend.  It  is  the  Holy  Bible, 
by  way  of  eminence  ;  and  it  is  the  great  means  in  the 
hand  of  the  Spirit  of  sanctifying  poUated  hearts,  and 
of  making  souls,  vile  by  sin,  holy,  pure,  and  lovely. 
Therefore  our  Saviour,  in  his  intercessory  prayer  for 
his  disciples  and  Church,  offers  up  the  following 
petition,  John  xvii.  17 :  "  Sanctify  them  through  thy 
truth  :  thy  word  is  truth." 

The  Bible  is  a  most  comforting  friend.  It  com- 
forts all  believers,  however  numerous  their  afflictions, 
however  severe  their  sufferings,  however  great  their 
bereavements,  however  violent  their  temptations,  how- 
ever furious  their  enemies,  or  however  deep  their 
sorrows.  Hence  the  Psalmist  says,  Psalm  cxix.  54, 
"  Thy  statutes  have  been  my  songs  in  the  house  of  my 
pilgrimage."  But  time  would  fail  to  speak  of  the 
excellences  of  this  friend.  Unite  with  me  in  the 
following  lines : 

*'  The  best  relief  that  moumers  have. 
It  makes  our  sorrows  blest ; 
Oar  fairest  hope  beyond  the  grave, 
And  our  eternal  rest." 

The  Bible  is  a  Field.  It  is  a  large  field.  It  is  a 
field  of  great  beauty.  It  i^  a  field  where  grow  the 
trees  of  truth.  It  is  a  rich  field.  It  is  a  field  whence 
flow  fountains  of  living  water.  It  is  a  field  where 
there  are  mines  of  precious  treasures.  **  Blessed 
Spirit,  teach  us  to  dig  in  these  mines  !** 

"  'Tis  a  broad  land  of  wealth  unknown,  \ 
Where  springs  of  life  arise, 
Seeds  of  immortal  bliss  are  sown. 
And  hidden  glory  lies.'* 

(To  he  continued.) 


139 


MARTYROLOGY. 


SCOTTISH   MARTYRS. 


HuaH  MoEail. 

**  'Tis  not  enough  felonious  caves  to  fill, 
'Tis  not  enough  for  cords  and  steel  to  kill ; 
But  on  the  ancle  the  sharp  wedge  descends. 
The  bone  reluctant  with  the  iron  bends, 
Cnish'd  in  its  frame ;  blood  spouts  from  ,every  pore, ' 
And  the  white  marrow  swims  in  purple  gore.*' 

On  Sabbath  morning,  the  6  th  of  September,  1661,  Mr.  Hugh 
McKail  ascended  the  pulpit  of  the  High  Church  in  Edinburgh, 
and  preached  a  beautiful  sermon  from  Song  i.  7 :  "  Tell  me,  0 
thou  whom  my  soul  loveth,  where  thou  feedest.'*  He  was  only 
about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  yet  he  felt  a  deep  concern  for 
the  poor  ministers  who,  because  they  adhered  to  the  religion  of 
their  fathers,  were  to  be  ejected  from  their  pulpits  on  the  follow- 
ing Sabbath  and  not  allowed  to  preach  any  more.  During  the 
sermon  he  took  occasion  to  mention  the  severity  of  the  Act ;  for 
so  doing,  he  had  to  leave  his  native  country  and  go  to  Holland. 
In  the  year  1664  he  came  home,  and  lived  at  his  father's  house, 
in  a  quiet,  secluded  spot.  One  day,  as  he  was  going  to  Edin- 
burgh, he  was  met  by  an  officer  and  a  dragoon,  and  taken 
prisoner.  It  was  resolved  by  those  in  power  to  make  this  meek 
and  gentle  creature  an  example  and  victim. 

After  two  examinations,  in  which  he  confessed  all  that  he 
knew  of  the  motives  which  caused  the  people  to  resist  the  Qovem- 
ment  in  matters  of  religion,  he  was  a  third  time  brought  before 
the  council  for  further  examination ;  and,  on  declaring  he  could 
tell  them  nothing  more,  he  was  put  to  the  torture.  The  instru- 
ment of  torture  was  that  horrible  one  called  the  boot, — a  square 
wooden  box,  with  movable  plates  inside.  The  leg  of  the  person 
to  be  tortured  was  placed  in  this  box,  and  between  the  frame 
and  the  plates  wedges  were  driven  in  with  a  mallet  to  crush  the 
limb,  and  produce  the  most  excruciating  pain;  the  pain  being  the 
greater  the  farther  the  wedges  were  driven  in.  Pooc  11<&^&3^^ 
Je^  being"  placed  in  the  boot,  the  -wedges  i\v5>^^  Hsi,  «ssAl  "^iofc 

executioner  standing  ready  with  \i\a  inaW^kV.  Vi  «\.t^^>  ^\j!^k. 

asked  again  to  make  a  further  confeasioii.     K&\iftx«"^«i»^sA.^» 


140         ANECDOTE   OF   THE   LATE   QUEEN   ADELAIDE. 

former  assei-tion,  that  he  had  nothing  more  to  confess,  the  tortore 
began.     Ten  or  eleven  blows  with  the  mallet  were  struck,  at 
considerable  interrald,  the  safferer  protesting  before  the  last 
three  that  he  "  could  say  no  more,  though  all  the  joints  in  his 
body  were  in  as  great  torture  as  that  poor  leg."    At  the  eleyenth 
stroke  the  bone  was  splintered,  and  the  blood  and  manow 
spirted  in  the  face  of  the  judges.    After  this  they  found  him 
guilty  of  treason,  for  which  he  was  to  be  hanged  in  two  days 
after.    At  the  hearing  of  this  sentence,  he  cheerfully  said,  *'  The 
Lord  giveth,  and  tfie  Lord  taketh  away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of 
tJie  Lord"    The  torture  brought  on  a  fever,  which  delayed  hi 
execution  for  four  days,  when  he  was  hanged  along  with  five 
otherii.     The  napkin  being  put  over  his  fa^,  he  prayed  a  little 
within  himself;  after  which,  he  put  up  the  cloth,  saying  he  had 
one  word. more  to  add,  in  order  to  show  them  the  comfort  he  had 
in  his  death.  "  I  hope,"  said  he, "  you  have  perceived  no  alteration 
o^  discouragement  in  my  countenance  and  manner ;  and  as  it 
may  be  your  wonder,  so  I  profess  it  is  a  wonder  to  myself;  but 
I  will  tell  you  the  reason  of  it.    Besides  the  justness  of  my  canse, 
this  is  my  comfort,  which  was  said  of  Lazarus  when  he  died,  that 
the  angels  did  carry  his  soul  into  Abraham's  bosom.     So  thafc  aa 
there  is  a  great  solemnity  here — of  a  confluence  of  people,  a 
scaffold,  a  gallows,  and  people  looking  out  at  windows,  so  there 
is  a  greater  and  more  solemn  preparation  in  heaven  of  angels  to 
carry  my  soul  to  Christ's  bosom."  And  after  speaking  a  little  to 
the  same  purpose,  he  concluded  thus :  '*  And  now  I  leave  off  to 
speak  any  more  to  creatures,  and  turn  my  speech  to  thee,  0  Lord; 
and  now  I  begin  my  intercourse  with  God,  which  shall  never  be 
broken  off.    Farewell,  father  and  mother,  friends  and  relations; 
farewell  the  world  and  all  delights ;  farewell  sun,  moon  and  staia. 
Welcome,  God  and  Father ;  welcome,  sweet  Jesus,  the  Mediator 
of  the  new  covenant ;  welcome  1>lessed  Spirit  of  gmce,  and  Cfod 
of  all  consolation.   Welcome,  glory ;  welcome,  eternal  life ;  wel- 
come, death  !**  After  which,  like  Stephen  of  old,  he  fell  asleep. 

J.  W.  A. 


ANECDOTE  OF  THE  LATE  QUEEN  ADELAIDE. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  the  late  King,  a  deputation  from  the 
Corporation  of  Londou  picsenVfe^  vn  KdA\^«^  ^1  Q^^olenoe  to 
her  late  Majesty  Queen.  X^eXa^^^.    ^tL  ^JbaJw  ^MmMMsi^^^&s^^'^e^^ 
presented  to  HerMa\e&V.y,\\iT<iTxsVV:t«A.ftx^V\^^^ 
^osB-rose,  with  a  piece  oi  i^«.ij«  ^x^Oii^^,  ^i^  ^\^V^*>.\«S 


THE  WHITE  FaOCK  AND  THE  SPOT  OF  IKK,      141 

fully  writien  the  following  lines  from  the  well  known  hymn  of 
Cowper:— 

"  The  bud  may  hare  a  bitter  taste» 
But  iweet  will  be  the  flower." 

-  Her  Majesty  was  graciously  pleased  to  accept  it,  and  was  so 
tcQcbed  with  this  instance  of  sympathy,  that  she  shortly  after- 
wards sent  Mr.  Hick  a  handsomely  bound  copy  of  the  Memoir 
of  William  the  Fourth. 


THE  WHITE  FROCK  AND  THE  SPOT  OF  INK. 

There  was  once  a  little  girl  called  Polly.  I  will  not  now  tell 
you  what  kind  of  a  little  girl  she  was,  but  you  shall  hear  of 
something  which  happened  to  her.  Her  nurse  washed  and 
dressed  her  as  usual ;  she  had  a  clean  white  frock.  Then  she 
went  skipping  and  jumping  down  stairs  in  great  glee,  and  full 
of  her  morning  joy,  not  coming  down  the  stairs  as  grown-up 
people  do,  first  one  foot,  and  then  another,  but  both  feet  together, 
a  step  at  a  time.  She  had  to  pass  the  drawing-room  door  before 
she  reached  the  room  where  her  mother  was  sitting ;  the  door 
was  a  little  open,  and  Polly  peeped  in,  and  then  she  thought  she 
would  just  look  at  the  prettj^  things,  and  round  the  room  she 
went  on  tip-toe,  till  she  capie  to  a  small  table  with  an  inkstand, 
aad  pens,  and  writing>paper  upon  it.  There  was  one  pen  lefc 
standing  in  the  ink,  and  Polly,  who  was  very  fond  of  scribbling, 
forgot  that  her  mother  had  often  told  her  not  to  touch  the  pen 
and  ink  without  asking  leave ;  so  she  amused  herself  for  some 
time,  till  at  last,  when  she  was  dipping  her  pen  into  the  ink,  a 
large  thick  piece  from  the1)Ottom  stuck  to  it,  and  in  her  hurry 
to  shake  it  off,  a  great  drop  of  ink  fell  upon  her  clean  white 
frock.  Oh  !  you  would  have  been  sony  for  Polly  had  you  seen 
her  just  then.  First  her  face  was  very  red,  and  then  it  was  very 
white,  and  she  trembled  all  over;  and  then  her  merry  eyes 
looked  quite  sad,  for  they  were  full  of  tears,  which  rolled  down 
her  cheeks  like  an  April  shower.  But  what  must  I  do  1  she 
thought.  I  will  go  and  tell  my  mother  how  naughty  I  have 
been.  But  then  she  will  be  angry  with  me,  because  she  told  me 
not  to  do  it,  and  she  will  punish  me.  Oh  1  I  will  go  up  stairs 
again,  and  try  to  wash  it  out,  and  then  I  can  dry  it  at  the  fire, 
and  nobody  will  know.  So  she  set  off  up  stairs  again,  and  she 
found  the  nursery  empty,  for  nurse  was  gone  down.  Then  she 
went  to  the  basin  and  got  the  soap,  and  dipped  h^t  \.Tik.^'^\>\SL 
the  water,  and  she  rubbed  it,  and  wrung  it  out,  \>ut  ^\a!CV  >(2eAT& 
was  3  mark  on  her  frock ;  and,  as  she  was  notuae^  to  wic^  ^Q^t^K.^ 
gbeeplasbed  herself  &U  over,  and  her  clean  wVitft  ^to^^^s^  ^ 
lon^r  white  and  clean,  but  wet  froxa  top  to  \)ottom.     ^V\  Vw« 


142      THE  WHITE  FBOCK  AND  THE  SPOT  OF  IKK. 

must  Polly  do  ?  The  spot  will  not  come  out,  though  she  hai 
rubbed  it  until  her  little  hands  are  sore.  But  she  heara  a  foot- 
step on  the  stain :  it  is  her  mother,  anxious  to  *  see  what  had 
become  of  her  dear  child.  Bid  Polly  run  to  meet  her  as  uBntl, 
and  throw  her  little  arms  round  her  neck  and  kiss  herl  Ko; 
she  felt  i^raid  of  her  own  dear  mother,  for  she  had  been  doing 
wrong,  so  she  ran  and  hid  herself  behind  the  door.  Silly  dbild, 
what  good  could  that  do  her,  for  her  mother  was  sure  to  find  her 
— and  then,  too,  she  was  such  a  kind  mother,  and  would  have 
forgiven  her  directly  if  she  had  told  her  all  the  truth.  *'  Where 
is  my  dear  little  Polly  Y*  she  said,  as  she  entered  the  nursery;  bat 
no  one  spoke,  and  she  began  to  feel  rather  alarmed,  and  wai 
leaving  the  room  to  call  nurse,  when  she  heard  a  sob  from 
behind  the  door,  and,  to  her  great  surprise,  found  little  P0II7 
there,  her  eyes  red  with  weeping,  her  clean  white  fix)ck  wet  and 
crushed,  and  a  large  dark  spot  upon  it  **  What  hare  you  been 
doing,  my  dear  child  V  she  said.  Polly's  heart  softened  when 
she  saw  her  dear  mother's  tender  looks,  and  she  ran  to  her,  and 
hid  her  face  in  her  dress,  and  said,  as  well  as  her  sobs  would 
permit,  **  Oh  !  mother,  I  have  been  bo  naughty  !  I  have  been 
doing  what  you  told  me  not  to  do.  I  have  been  using  the  pen 
and  ink  in  the  drawing-room,  and  I  have  inked  my  clean  frock  ; 
and  I  thought  you  would  be  angry,  and  I  came  up  stairs  to  try 
to  wash  it  out,  but  I  cannot ;  it  will  not  come  out  wnatever  I  do ;" 
and  she  again  cried  very  much.  The  kind  mother  sat  down,  and 
took  her  poor  little  Polly  upon  her  knee ;  then  she  talked  ve7 
kindly  to  her,  and  told  her  what  sorrow  she  had  brought  npon 
herself  by  not  doing  as  she  was  bid;  and  as  she  saw  that  Pollj 
was  truly  sorry  for  what  she  had  done,  she  forgave  her.  Then 
she  took  the  wet  frock  off,  lest  she  should  take  cold,  and  put 
another  on.  "  But,  dear  mother,"  EAid  Polly,  "  what  must  be 
done  with  my  Arock  1  It  is  quite  spoiled  with  that  large  dark 
spot"  Her  mother  smiled  at  her,  and  going  to  a  drawer,  took 
out  of  it  a  little  wooden  box,  full  of  a  white  powder ;  then  she 
dipped  the  dark  spot  in  Polly's  frock  in  hot  water,  and  then  she 
rubbed  some  of  the  powder  on  it  with  her  finger,  and  the  spot  grew 
lighter  and  lighter,  till  it  was  quite  pale ;  and  at  last  there  was  no 
spot  at  all.  Then  Polly  was  very  glad,  and  she  clapped  her  handi 
for  joy.  Then  her  mother  took  her  down  into  the  breakfast  room, 
where  they  found  Polly's  father,  who  wondered  what  had  become 
of  them.  He  was  grieved  when  he  saw  his  little  girl  with  such 
red  eyes ;  he  was  afraid  she  had  been  naaghty,  and  he  looked 
very  sad  and  very  grave,  and  he  did  not  take  Polly  into  his  amu 
and  kiss  her  as  usual,  but  he  looked  at  her  mother  to  tell  him 
irhat  had  been  the  matter.  ^^  %>^^  V^Vd  him  all  about  it,  and 
how  florry  Polly  was  Uiat  i^^  \«A.  \i««B^  %»  ^mwx^^-^.  't^wsa.  the 
little  irirl  crept  quite  cVose  \jo  V\m,  wA,^V^\Aas».  \xi\iKt  ^^«^ 
mdd,  "  Dear  father,  foxgvye  m^.**    ^  ^\^^^^^^'^''  ^ 


POETRY.  143 

reakfast.  But  she  could  not  eat  much,  for  she  was  both 
and  glad — sorry  that  she  had  grieved  her  kind  parents, 
plad  that  they  had  forgiven  her.  Afterwards  her  father  said 
Br,  "  Do  you  know  that  in  disobeying  your  mother  you 
d  against  God  ;  for  God  has  said, '  Honour  thy  father  and 
aother/  You  must  ask  Him  to  forgive  you  too.  Sin  is 
iie  dark  ink  spot  on  your  frock — it  is  on  your  heart ;  and 
u  could  not  make  your  frock  clean  again,  whatever  you  did, 
u  cannot  make  your  heart  clean,  however  good  you  try  to 
But  as  there  was  one  thing  which  would  take  away  the  * 
pot  out  of  your  frock,  so  there  is  one  thing,  and  one  only, 
1  will  take  away  your  sins,  and  that  is  the  blood  of 
it.  The  Bible  tells  us  that  His  blood  cleanseth  from  all 
80  my  dear  child  must  ask  God  for  Christ's  sake  to  forgive 
&nd  to  wash  away  her  sins  in  the  blood  of  Jesus."  So  Polly 
off  her  father's  knee,  and  went  up  stairs  and  into  the 
iry,  and  then  she  knelt  down  by  her  own  little  bed,  and  did 
r  father  had  told  her.  E.  F. 


POETRY. 


TBK  BLIND  CHILD  8  REPLT  TO   HIS  MOTHERS  ADDRESS. 

"  Mother,  your  cheek  is  wet  again, 

I  know  your  heart  is  kind. 
Then  why,  dear  mother,  will  you  weep 

Because  your  boy  is  blind  1 
I  never  knew  the  joys  of  sight, 

Kor  moum'd  its  absence  yet. 
But  now  my  heart  is  heavy  too. 

Because  your  cheek  is  wet. 

"  Mother,  the  God  who  gave  you  sights 

Gave  me  to  hear  and  feel ; 
For  this  I  thank  him  when  at  night 

And  in  the  mom  I  kneel. 
For,  though  I  see  no  rising  sun, 

I  feel  its  warming  ray ; 
I  hear  the  birds  rejoicing  too, 

And  I  with  them  am  gay. 

"  I  cannot  see  the  moon,  that  God 
To  rule  the  night  has  given, 
Nor  look  upon  the  stars  you  say 
Spangle  the  vault  of  heaven ; 
But  th*  evening's  breath  ia  sweet  to  "Oie, 
Ab  it  plays  upon  my  brow  : 
And  the  guahing  voice  of  the  nigUUnsA^— 
Oh,  I  think  I  hear  it  now  I 


144  ANECDOTES. 

"  I  know  the  scasona  as  they  pass. 

The  air  seems  full  of  flowers^ 
And  the  young  lambs  bleat  upon  the  grass 

In  the  merry  spring-tide  hours. 
And  when  th«  summer  days  are  bright. 

And  the  thrush  is  on  the  wing, 
It  makes  me  feel  so  glad  and  light 

To  hear  the  blackbird  sing. 

**  In  autumn,  when  the  rustling  leaves 

Are  dropping  from  the  tree, 
I  find  sweet  yiolets  underneath. 

And  they  are  joy  to  me. 
I  lie  along  the  sunny  grass. 

And  dream  of  heaven  and  ihec : 
Oh  !  in  the  hours  of  still  delight, 

I  do  not  wish  to  see. 


it 


And  now,  though  winter,  cold  and  keen. 

Is  blowing  from  above, 
Winter  can  never  chill  our  hearts, 

For  they  are  warm  with  love. 
I  ask  not  sight  while  I  can  hear 
Your  voice,  so  soft  and  kind  ; 
*Tis  only  when  my  mother  weeps 
1  feel  that  I  am  blind." 

Akka,  Pupil, 
Dr.  Fletchers  CatedteticaZ Seminarj, 

Dec  5eh, 


Alexakdkr  and  his  Mother. — Olympia,  the  mother  of 
Alexander,  was  of  so  very  unhappy  and  morose  a  disposition, 
that  he  could  not  employ  her  in  any  of  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment. She,  however,  narrowly  inspected  the  oondnct  of  othen, 
and  made  many  complaints  to  her  son,  which  he  always  bore 
with  patience.  Antipater,  Alexander's  deputy  in  Europe,  once 
wrote  a  long  letter  to  him,  complaining  of  her  conduct,  to  whom 
Alexander  returned  this  answer :  "  Knowest  thon  not  that  one 
tear  of  my  mother's  will  blot  out  a  thousand  such  letters  1" 

Affection's  choice  Treasures. — Ancient  history  records  th»t 
a  certain  city  was  besieged,  and  at  length  obliged  to  surrender. 
In  the  city  there  were  two  brothers  who  had  in  some  way  obliged 
the  conquering  general ;  and,  in  consequence  of  this,  leoeired 
permission  to  leave  the  city  before  it  was  set  on  fire,  taking  with 
them  as  much  of  thoir  pto^^Ti^  «&  each  could  carry  about  hia 
person.  Accordingly,  t\ie  Vwo  gct^^xwsA  iqxjKJda  v^^^Tod  at  the 
grates  of  the  city,  one  Oi  t\iem  c«xTfvBL^>iJas»x\'8}QBwt  ^KAV5a&^>^^ 

their  mother. 


SCRIPTURE  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


The  name  given  to  the  JJee  ia  Scripture  is  striking, 
descriptive,  and  cliaracteriatic  It  is  mi^T  Deburim, 
and  the  meaning  of  tliis  Hebrew  name  is,  to  lead 
orderly.  When  we  think  of  the  ecoDomy  of  thia 
remarkable  insect,  which  haa  excited  the  merited 
wonder  of  philosophers  of  every  t^e,  we  cannot  but 
admire  the  suitableness  of  the  name  given  it  bj  the 
great  Creator  in  hia  own  inspired  word.  The  manage- 
ment, order,  and  industry  observed  by  Beet  in  thwr 
community,  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  description.  If 
the  secular,  moral,  and  spiritual  concerns  of  kingdoms 
were  managed  with  similar  accuracy  wtii  te^'aVasAT , 
happiness  and  prosperity  would  pervade  t\ia  >ic.t^  V^ 
«  d^ree  and  to  an  extent  of  whicli  we  ijovAi  So*™.  ■*> 


146  SCRIPTUKE   NATURAL    HISTORY. 

adequate  conception.     How  just  the  observation  of  the 

poet : 

"  So  work  the  honey-bees : 
Creatures  that,  by  a  ruling  nature^  teach 
The  art  of  order  to  a  peopled  kingdom." 

DESCRIPTION. 

Apis,  or  Bee,  in  zoology,  is  a  genus  of  insects 
belonging  to  the  order  of  Insecta  hymenoptera.  The 
mouth  is  furnished  with  two  jaws.  It  is  provided 
with  a  proboscis  having  a  double  sheath.  With  this 
most  curiously  wrought  instrument,  or  member,  it 
extracts  delicious  and  wholesome  nectar  from  the 
bosom  of  flowers.  There  this  rich  substance  is  depo- 
sited by  the  great  Creator,  and  which,  without  the 
proboscis  and  industry  of  the  bee,  could  never  be 
collected  for  the  use  and  comfort  of  man.  The  wings 
are  four  in  number  ;  when  at  rest,  the  two  foremost 
cover  the  other  two.  In  the  tail  of  the  working-bee 
a  sting  is  concealed,  through  which  a  poisonous  juice 
is  emitted.  The  sting  is  hooked,  and  is  often  left  in 
the  wound. 

DIFFERENT   KINDS. 

There  is  the  Queen-bee,  or  Queen-mother.  She  is 
larger  and  redder  than  the  rest.  Her  province  is  to 
deposit  eggs  in  the  combs  ;  and,  marvellous  to  tell, 
a  swarm  is  produced,  amounting  to  ten  and  sometimes 
twenty  thousand  in  one  year.  The  attachment  to  the 
Queen-bee  is  surprising.  The  bees  follow  her  wher- 
ever she  goes.  Her  influence  over  the  whole  com- 
munity is  irresistible  and  universal. 

There  are  the  Drones,  which  lurk  among  the  combs. 

They  gather  no  honey.     What  particular  purpose  they 

are  intended  to  serve  I  cannot  say  ;  but  when  their 

number  is  too  great,  the  excess  is  driven  out,  and  pot 

to  death. 

The  third  class  coivsvs\.ao^  \V^I^a\)own.n^^et^,'^^ 
collect  wax  and  lion^y,  axi^  ^^«^  x^^c^Oaa  ^q«^^.  "S&te\ 


SERMON.  147 

build  the  beautiful  storehouses  with  the  utmost  sym- 
metry and  perfection,  and  they  fill  them  with  the  most 
delicious  treasures. 

liinnaeus  has  enumerated  fifty-five  species  of  bees. 
But  the  most  remarkable  is  the  Apis  mellifica,  the* 
domestic  honey-bee,  the  produce  of  whose  industry  is 
sufidcient  to  fill  annually  a  fleet  of  ships  ! 

A.  R 

SERMON  X. 

YOUNG   SAINTS   TREES   OP    RIGHTEOUSNESS. 


t 

'*  Trees  of  righteousness^  the  planting  of  the  Lord,  that  he  migh 

be  glorified" — Isa,  Ixi.  3. 
The  Church  of  Christ  is  compared  to  an  orchard. 
Song  iv.  13,  14,  "  Thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of  pome- 
granateSy  with  pleasant  fruits ;  camphire,  with  spike- 
nard, spikenard  and  safiron  ;  calamus  and  cinnamon, 
with  all  ti:ees  of  frankincense ;  myrrh  and  aloes,  with 
all  the  chief  spices."  This  is  certainly  a  beautiful 
figure  of  the  Church.  It  is  a  lovely,  glowing  picture. 
May  I  ask  you,  Do  you  not  admire  it  ?  Let  us  look 
for  a  little  at  this  orchard.  What  do  we  see  around 
it  ?  It  is  a  lofty  fence,  which  no  enemies  can  break 
down,  which  no  stormy  tempest  can  injure.  Would 
you  wish  to  know  the  name  of  the  fence  ?  I  will  tell 
you — ^it  is  Salvation.  Blessed  name  !  and  it  is  well 
worthy  of  the  name  ;  for  all  who  are  within  this  fence 
are  for.  ever  safe  and  ibr  ever  saved.  Let  us  look 
within  this  noble  lofty  fence,  and  see  the  trees  of 
which  this  wonderful  orchard  consists.  Pray  what  are 
the  trees  ?  They  are  the  saints  of  God.  I  see  some 
very  old  trees,  some  as  old  as  Adam  and  Eve ;  and 
I  see  some  very  young  trees,  some  young  saints,  but 
newly  planted  in  this  orchard,  the  Church,  by  Christ's 
blessed  hand.     I  see  some  very  lofty  tree*. 

There  never  were  cedars  in  Lebanon  ao  \oi\*':^  ^^^  ^^'^  * 
I  see  some  very  lofty  trees  in  that  oTCi\ittt^,    \aO^^*^ 
Abraham,  and  Moses,  and  Job,  and  lfta\«iVi,  wA  ^^^^' 


148  SERMON. 

and  John.  Oh,  what  lofty  trees  I  They  have  reached 
the  height  of  perfection.  I  see  other  trees  of  low 
stature.  They  resemble  tender  plants.  They  have 
only  been  introduced  lately  into  the  orchard  ;  but  they 
look  healthy,  and  not  sickly. 

^*  Green  are  their  leaves,  and  fragrant  their  blossoms." 

Who  are  they  ?     They  are  young  converts,  dear  little 

children.     It  is  but  a  few  days   since  Jesus  planted 

them  in  his  orchard.     But  with  what  tender  care  he 

watches  over  them  !     As  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  he 

shines  upon  them.   Do  you  see  the  spangling  dew-drops 

resting  on  every  leaf,  and  sparkling  on  every  blossom  ? 

What  is  this  dew  ?    It  is  the  dew  of  the  influences  of 

the  Holy  Spirit.   The  time  will  come  when  those  tender, 

lovely  plants  shall  be  powerful,  lofty,  noble  "  trees  of 

righteousness,  the  planting  of  the  Lord,  that  he  may 

be  glorified."     Now,  my  young  friends,  who  belong  to 

this  blessed  orchard,  come,  and  let  your  hearts  unite 

with  me  in  singing  the  following  lines  : — 

**  We  are  a  garden,  waird  around, 
Chosen  and  made  pecaliar  ground ; 
A  little  spot  inclosed  by  grace. 
Oat  of  the  world's  wide  wilderness." 

Watts,  Book  IL  H.  1L 

In  a  former  sermon  I  gave  some  description  of 
yoang  believers,  under  the  figure,  or  picture,  of  a 
tree.  By  divine  help,  I  propose  to  give  in  this  dis- 
course an  additional  account  of  pious  children,  as 
Trees  of  Bighteousness  in  Christ's  orchard. 

L  They  are  fruitful  trees.    Thus  we  read  of  the 

fruitfulness  of  Christ's  orchard,  Gen.  xlix.  22,  "  Joseph 

is  a  fruitful  bough,  even  a  fruitful  bough  by  a  well; 

whose  branches  run  over  the  wall."     Psalm  xcii.  12— 

14,  "  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  the  palm-tree : 

he  shall  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon.    Those  that  be 

planted  in  the  \u>u&^  o^  \\v^  Lord  shall  flourish  in  the 

courts  of  our  God.    TYie^  ^^  %\)^\sf«i^\^T>3cL  ^xMvt  in 

old   age  ;  they   sbaW  )afe  ^«^  %»^  ^wav^\s^r    '^^ 

Cimrch  thus  addreaaes  «m\«X^\»^'^^^'^^Vv*-^^ 


SERMON.  149 

'^  Let  my  beloved  come  into  his  garden,  and  eat  his 
pleasant  fruits."  And  thus  Christ  speaks  of  the  fruit- 
fulness  of  his  garden,  Song  v.  1,  "I  am  come  into  my 
garden,  my  sister,  my  spouse  :  I  have  gathered  my 
myrrh  with  my  spice ;  I  have  eaten  my  honeycomb 
with  my  honey  ;  I  have  drunk  my  wine  with  my 
milk."  What  are  the  fruits  produced  by  the  trees  of 
righteousness  ?  In  general,  they  are  the  fruits  of 
righteousness.  But  more  particularly,  these  fruits 
consist  of  holy  thoughts,  holy  desires,  and  purposes, 
and  affections.  They  consist  of  holy  words  and 
sayings  ;  such  as  prayer,  praise,  reading  and  preaching 
the  glorious  gospel.  They  consist  of  holy  actions  of 
eveiy  description  ;  and,  to  crown  all,  these  fruits  con- 
sist of  the  exercise  of  all  the  graces. 

Paul  gives  the  following  account  of  the  fruitfulness 
of  the  trees  of  righteousness,  Gal.  v.  22,  23,  **  But  the 
fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering, 
gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance : 
against  such  there  is  no  law.''  And  on  the  subject  of 
fruitfulness  he  gives  the  following  counsels,  Col.  i.  10, 
**  Walk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing,  being 
fruitful  in  every  good  work,  and  increasing  in  the 
knowledge  of  God." 

May  we  belong  to  Christ's  fruitful  garden,  of  which 
the  sacred  poet  sings  : 

"  In  vineyards  planted  by  his  hand, 
Where  fruitful  trees  in  order  stand ; 
He  feeds  among  the  spicy  beds, 
Where  lilies  show  their  spotless  heads." 

Watts,  Book  I.  H.  76. 

Pray,  oh  pray  earnestly,  my  young  friends,  for 
spiritual  fruitfulness.  Let  the  youthful  desires  of  your 
hearts  ascend  to  heaven's  throne  in  the  following  lines : 

"  Awake,  0  heavenly  wind,  and  come, 
Blow  on  this  garden  of  perfume ; 
Spirit  divine,  descend  and  bxeaAiYie 
A  gncioua  gale  on  plaaU  beneatV.*"  ,  ^  ^ 

.  *^Lord  Jeaua,  mercifully  bear  our  iptojet  V^ 


150  jSERMON. 

11.  They  are  fragrant  trees.  The  fragrance  of  trees 
is  the  delightful  and  refreshing  perfume  which  rises 
from  their  leaves,  their  blossoms,  and  their  fruit.  By 
the  fragrance  of  the  trees  of  righteousness,  we  are  to 
understand  the  influence  of  the  fruits  of  righteousness 
giving  delight  and  enjoyment  both  to  God  and  man. 
Be  assured,  my  beloved  young  friends,  that  Jesus 
takes  the  very  greatest  delight  in  the  graces  of  pious 
children.  To  him  they  send  forth  the  most  agreeable 
fragrance  and  the  most  acceptable  perfume.  Unspeak- 
ably blessed  are  pious  children.  Their  holy  graces, 
holy  expressions,  and  holy  actions,  send  forth  a 
pleasing  perfume;  delightful  to  saints,  to  angels,  and  to 
Christ.  Wicked,  prayerless,  profane  children,  are 
Satan's  trees.  Alas  !  they  send  forth  from  their  vile 
and  poisonous  clusters  of  fruit,  a  perfume  which  is 
hateful  to  saints,  to  angels,  and  to  God.  "  Lord 
Jesus,  change  their  wicked  hearts  !  Oh,  make  them 
trees  of  righteousness  ! " 

Let  pious  children  earnestly  pray  to  the  Holy 
Spirit  for  an  increase  of  grace,  and  then  there  will  be 
an  increase  of  holy  fragrance.  Say,  in  the  language 
of  inspiration.  Song  iv.  16,  "  Awake,  O  north  wind; 
and  come,  thou  south ;  blow  upon  my  garden,  that  the 
spices  thereof  may  flow  out." 

"  Make  our  best  spices  flow  abroad. 
To  entertain  our  Saviour  God, 
And  £Eiith,  and  love,  and  joy  appear, 
And  every  grace  be  active  there." 

Watts,  Book  I.  H.  74. 

IIL  They  are  ever-growing  trees.  On  earth  their 
growth  never  ceases.  Even  in  old  age  they  are  fat 
and  flourishing.  Abraham  and  Moses  are  blessed 
examples  of  this  delightful  truth  ;  namely,  of  trees  of 
righteousness  continuing  their  spiritual  growth  in  old 
age. 

What  are  tlie  meana  \i^  ^VvOa.  ^vsvi^  ^2b^^\^ti  ^jcw 
in  grace  ?     The  outward  xcvftwi^  «x^  nXjl^  ^x^vassiistRSi  ^ 
the  gospel.     They  fire  to  x>^  Ax^^-a^  ^^  tw^vw^xjkb^ 


SERMON.  151 

what  the  air,  light,  dew,  rain  and  warmth  are  to  the 
trees  of  an  orchard.  There  is  beside  the  inward 
effectual  mean  of  this  Divine  growth  ;  and  this  is  the 
influence,  the  power,  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Let  my  young  friends  pray  more  earnestly  and  con- 
stantly for  his  divine  influence.  Be  assured  you  will 
never  pray  in  vain,  for  we  have  most  precious  pro- 
mises of  the  influences  of  the  Spirit.  For  instance, 
Hosea  xiv.  5  :  "I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel  :  he 
shall  grow  as  the  lily,  and  cast  forth  his  roots  as 
Lebanon." 

The  Thessalonian  Christians  were  trees  of  right- 
eousness very  remarkable  for  their  spiritual  growth. 
Therefore  the  Apostle  speaks  of  them  in  the  following 
encouraging  language.  And,  my  dear  young  friends, 
may  your  parents,  and  ministers,  and  teachers  have 
reason  to  use  the  same  language  respecting  you. 
2  Thess.  i.  3 :  *'  We  are  bound  to  thank  God  always 
for  you,  as  is  meet,  because  that  your  faith  groweth 
exceedingly y  and  the  love  of  every  one  of  you  all  to- 
ward each  other  aboundeth."  What  a  blessing  !  The 
trees  of  righteousness  are  ever  increasing,  striking 
their  roots  deeper  and  deeper :  spreading  their  branches 
wider  and  wider,  and  rising  up  in  their  height  higher 
and  higher,  until  they  are  transplanted  to  the  heavenly 
paradise,  for  ever  to  flourish  amid  the  glories  of  immor- 
tality. What  reason  then  have  we  to  take  up  the 
words  of  the  sacred  song,  and  sing  : 

"  There  grow  thy  saints  in  faith  and  love. 
Blest  with  thine  influence  from  above ; 
Not  Lebanon,  with  all  its  trees, 
Yields  such  a  comely  sight  as  these." 

Watts,  Ps.  92. 

IV.  They  are  strong  and  durable.     In  themselves 
they  have  a  living  strength  of  grace  yiMcVv  oscKWiVXi^ 
destroyed.    All  the  power  of  eartb.  and  \i^,  o^  -^v^^^ 
men  and  evil  angels,  cannot  destroy  tWX  Y\n\tv^  ^^^"^ 
ivhlch  Is  in  the  trees  of  righteousneaa.     T\x\a  \«»  ^^^^ 


152  8EBMOK. 

"  eternal  life,''  Bom.  vi.  23  :  "  The  gift  of  God  is 
eternal  life  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

These  trees  are  strong,  for  they  are  well  rooted. 
They  are  rooted  and  grounded  in  Christ,  and  therefore 
they  cannot  be  plucked  up  by  the  roots.  No  storms 
can  break  their  branches,  and  no  tempest  can  level 
them  with  the  ground. 

These  trees  are  strong  and  durable,  because  they 
are  well  inclosed  and  well  defended.  Song  iv.  12  : 
"  A  garden  inclosed  is  my  sister,  my  spouse."  It  is 
inclosed  by  the  divine  perfections,  by  divine  provi- 
dences, and  by  a  divine  righteousness.  These  form  a 
wall  of  defence  infinitely  more  powerful  than  a  wall  of 
brass  as  high  as  the  heavens.  How  justly  we  can  say 
respecting  tlie  safety  and  duration  of  Christ's  trees  of 
righteousness, 

"  Loud  may  the  troubled  ocean  roar. 
In  safety  sure  these  trees  abide. 
While  every  nation,  every  shore. 
Trembles  and  dreads  the  swelling  tide.** 

Watts,  Ps.  46. 

CONCLUSION. 

Some  trees  of  righteousness  are  very  soon  trans- 
planted into  heaven.     I  mention  two  instances. 

1st.  A  dear,  pious  child  at  seven  years  of  age  was 
transplanted  from  earth  to  heaven.  His  mother  was 
loath  to  part  with  him.  She  said,  "  Thomas,  whether 
would  you  die  and  go  to  Jesus  now,  or  live  till  you  are 
a  man,  and  then  go  to  Jesus  ?''  Smiling,  he  said, 
"Mother,  I  would  rather  go  to  Jesus  now."  He  got 
his  wish,  for  soon  after  Jesus  took  him  to  himself. 

2d.  A  boy  aged  fourteen  years  was  transplanted  to 

heaven.     When  dying,  he  said,   "Glory,  glory  be  to 

God  !    Now  I  am  not  afraid  to  die  I     Jesus  died  to 

save  sinnera,  and  he  died  to  save  me  !  Glory  be  to 

God  I     What  love  I  feel  \  1  ^tvoy?  Co^o^  \w^  xaa :  I 

feel  his  love  in  my  heart.    MoXYier,  ^otjlX.  ^^«^  ^^x  m^ 

for  I  am  happy,  and  shaW  BOOii\>«i  'm\xfe^^«Q^-'' 


MARTYB0LOGT»  153 

Let  all  of  us  lift  up  our  eyes  to  Christ  in  heaven, 
and  pray  and  sing — 

"  Oh  that  with  yonder  sacred  throng 
We  at  his  feet  may  fall. 
To  join  the  ererlasting  song, 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all." 

A.F, 


MAETYEOLOGY. 

Justin  Martyr. 

This  eminent  man  and  saint  of  God  flourished  in 
the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era.  He  was  horn 
at  Neapolis,  in  Samaria,  anciently  called .  Sichem.  His 
father  was  so  struck  with  his  son's  natural  talents  that 
he  gave  him  a  philosophical  education.  In  search  of 
truth  he  studied  in  connexion  with  several  sects  of 
philosophers,  such  as  the  Stoics,  the  Peripatetics,  the 
Pythagoreans,  and  the  Platonics.  By  the  providence 
of  God,  he  was  led  into  conversation  with  an  aged 
intelligent  Christian.  He  showed  him  the  insufficiency 
of  all  human  philosophy,  and  pointed  him  to  the  "Word 
of  God,  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  to  the  influences 
of  the  Spirit,  as  the  only  method  by  which  he  could 
obtain  the  knowledge  of  God,  salvation  from  sin,  and 
a  title  to  heaven.  This  conversation  issued  in  his 
conversion.  He  became  afterwards  a  zealous  champion 
for  the  truth  in  opposition  to  every  species  of  error. 
While  at  Eome,  he  was  cast  into  prison  by  the  emperor 
Marcus,  by  the  instigation  of  the  philosopher  Crescens. 
He  and  six  of  his  companions  were  apprehended  an<l 
brought  before  Eusticus,  the  Prefect,  Buaticus  at- 
tempted to  persuade  him  to  worship  the  gods.  Justin 
told  him  that  there  was  only  one  God  in  whom  bis 
religion  taught  him  to  believe,  and  him  only  to  worship 
and  adore.  He  told  him  that  the  religion  which  taught 
him  such  lessons  was  the  Christian^  in  which  Ql<y&&  V^^^ 
had  found  rest,  however  fashion^\A^  \t  \xv\^N.>^^  v^ 
tr^t  it  with  scorn.    "  WretcYi  \ "  ie^\\<5i^  AXv^^  \ag!:\^o»»x 


154  NAMES  OF  CHRIST 

magistrate ;  "art  thou  captivated  with  that  religion?" 
"  I  am,"  says  Justin  ;  *•  I  follow  the  Christians,  and 
their  doctrine  is  right."  Then  he  said,  "  What  is  their 
doctrine  ?"  Justin  gave  him  a  striking  and  compre- 
hensive outline  of  the  Christain  faith.  After  this,  the 
companions  of  Justin  were  examined.  Rusticus  then 
said  to  Justin,  "  If  I  scourge  thee  from  head  to  foot, 
thinkest  thou  that  thou  shalt  enter  heaven  ?  "  He  re- 
plied, "  I  not  only  think  so,  but  I  know  it,  and  have  a 
certainty  of  it,  which  excludes  all  doubt."  Rusticus 
insisted  that  they  should  worship  the  gods,  otherwise 
h(B  would  torment  them  without  mercy.  AH  of  them 
expressed  their  willingness  to  suffer  torment  for 
Christ's  sake.  They  said,  "  Despatch  quickly  your 
purpose,  we  are  Christians  and  cannot  sacrifice  to 
idols."  The  sentence  was  then  pronounced,  "  that  those 
who  refused  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods  should  first  be 
scourged  and  then  beheaded  according  to  the  laws." 
The  martyrs  rejoiced  and  blessed  God,  and  were  led 
back  to  prison.  First  they  were  whipped,  and  after- 
wards beheaded.  Their  bodies  were  taken  by  their 
Christian  friends,  and  decently  interred  ! 


NAMES  OF  CHRIST  ALPHABETICALLY  ARRANGED. 

{Continued  from  page  93.) 

NAMES   BEGINNING   WITH   THE   LETTER    C. 

Jesus  is  called  a  Captain,  Heb.  ii.  10 :  "For  it  be- 
came him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are 
all  things,  in  bringing*  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make 
the  Captain  of  their  salvation  perfect  through  suf- 
ferings." 

He  is  the  Captain  of  an  armr/.     This  army  consists 

of  two  grand  divisions.     The  first  division  consists  of 

the  angels  of  heaven.     And  what  astonishing  soldiers 

are  they  !     In  one  n\o\i\.  «itv  slxv%^  ^^-sXxqI^^  xsksst^  than 

twenty  thousand  o€  t\\^  reV\5C\owa\^^'^\\K&\ 

The  second  division  oi  \\i^  wk^I  ^o^^^ax^  ^^  ^Vtv^^ 


ALPHABETICALLY  ARRANGED.         155 

Church  on  earth.  All  pious  men,  women  and  children 
are  soldiers.  We  have  old  soldiers,  and  some  remark- 
ably young.  If  a  child  is  converted  at  four  years  of 
age  he  is  a  young  soldier  under  Christ  the  Great  Cap- 
tain, and  assuredly  he  shall  be  more  than  conqueror 
through  Christ  who  loved  him. 

Jesus  is  Captain  of  Salvation,  He  became  a  Cap- 
tain to  obtain  salvation.  He  fought  with  Satan,  with 
the  world,  with  sin,  with  death,  and  with  hell.  He 
conquered  them  all.  He  obtained  salvation  by  his  vic- 
tory. Let  us  earnestly  pray  that  Jesus  may  be  the 
Captain  of  our  salvation. 

Jesus  is  called  a  Child,  Luke  ii.  43  :  "  As  they 
returned,  the  Child  Jesus  tarried  behind  in  Jeru- 
salem."    Come  and  let  us  look  at  the  Child  Jesus. 

Look  at  him  in  the  manger.  Oh,  what  a  lovely 
Child  !  But  how  wonderful !  Such  a  Child  Ijnng  in 
a  manger  instead  of  a  cradle  I  Lying  on  straw,  or 
hay,  instead  of  soft  down  !  And  lying  in  a  stable, 
instead  of  a  palace  !     Oh,  how  wonderful ! 

Look  at  him  in  the  temple.  His  parents  took  him  to 
the  temple  when  he  was  eight  days  old,  to  present  him 
to  the  Lord.  Aged  Simeon  met  them,  took  up  the 
lovely  Child  in  his  arms.  Then  he  lifted  up  his  eyes 
in  holy  ecstasy  to  heaven,  and  said,  "  Now  lettest  thou 
thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation  I " 

Look  at  him  in  the  wilderness  !  Herod  wishes  to 
murder  the  dear,  the  lovely  Child.  The  parents  escape 
to  the  deserts  of  Arabia,  to  save  the  Child's  precious 
life. 

Look  at  him  in  Egypt.  There  he  remained  with 
Joseph  and  Mary  till  the  royal  murderer  died. 

Look  at  him  in  the  temple,  when  only  twelve  years 
old.     The   learned   doctors   put   many  questions,    he 
answered  them  all.     How  they  were  amazed  at  hia 
wisdom  J     Younfr  friends,   may  yowc  \i^w\.%  \i^  ^^^\ 
with  love  to  the  Child  Jesus. 

(To  be  continued^ 


156 


IONA*S  ISLK 
To  the  Church  and  Congregation  of  Finabury  Chapd, 

Bkloyed  Friends, 

Allow  me  to  begin  this  pastoral  epistle  in  the  aSection&te 
and  appropriate  language  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  whose  love  to  the 
Churches  was  the  most  genuine,  ardent,  and  tender :  "  Grace  to 
you  and  peace  from  God  our  Father,  and  from  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  This  was  the  loving  salutation  with  which  he  ad- 
dressed the  saints  at  Some.  I  wish,  from  the  heart,  to  use  the 
following  expressions,  which  he  addressed  to  the  same  Church, 
Rom.  i.  11, 12,  "  For  I  long  to  see  you,  that  I  may  impart  unto 
you  some  spiritual  gift,  to  the  end  ye  may  be  established ;  that 
is,  that  I  may  be  comforted  together  with  you  by  the  mutual 
faith  both  of  you  and  me." 

You  will  be  satisfied  that  I  and  my  fellow-trayellers  have 
enjoyed,  during  our  journeys  by  land  and  our  voyages  on  the 
great  deep,  the  constant  care,  and  watchfulness,  and  goodness  of 
the  God  of  providence  and  grace.  We  have  been  permitted  to 
visit  and  hold  fellowship  with  the  Churches  of  the  far-distaiU 
Shetland  Isles.  There  1  heard,  and  there  I  was  permitted  to 
proclaim,  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ.  As  to  temporal 
things,  the  inhabitants  of  those  islands  are  poor ;  but  as  to 
educational  and  gospel  privileges,  they  are  rich,  ikr,  ftur  exceed- 
ing many  portions  of  England,  with  all  its  advantages. 

"  These  British  islands  are  the  Lord's, 
There  Abraham's  God  is  known. 
While  young  and  old,  and  rich  and  poor. 
Submit  before  his  throne." 

During  our  absence  from  home  we  have  been  permitted  to 
visit  one  of  the  Western  Islands,  which  holds,  in  the  histoiyof  the 
Church  and  of  the  saints  of  God,  a  high  and  honourable  place. 
It  is  the  Island  of  Iona.  Nearly  a  thousand  years  ago,  the 
celebrated,  the  learned,  and  the  holy  Columba  planted  the 
standard  of  salvation  in  that  distant  solitary  island,  whoae 
western  shores  are  washed  by  the  waves  of  the  great  and  often  the 
raging  Atlantic.  Since  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  I  have  never 
read  of  one  man  who  accomplished  so  much  good  during  the 
short  term  of  human  life  as  this  highly  gifted  and  honoured 
individual.  He  instructed  hundreds  of  young  men  in  his  little 
college,  which  he  founded  in  the  solitary  isle,  who  were  Instru- 
mental in  reclaiming  Ihoxi^axid^  and  tens  of  thousands  of  rode 
I)arbarians  in  Scot\aIldaIi^l^Tv^«iIi^,vsA^^^\x^sv.^2sy^<»(SLti^ 
of  Europe,  from  the  iiottox^  q1  Y«©a.T5:\%m,^av^VTiNjc5A\^^^ 
into  the  fold  of  C\iT\at.  T>\i^iiS  V\&\^Vi,'M^^  ^^^>^^ 
thousands  of  learned  «ad  ^V^xx^  ^^s«.^wv«^  ^^^  ^^^^ 


PLAGUE  OF  LONDON — CURIOUS  PRESCRIPTION.   157 

and  in  all  directions,  and  among  many  nations,  succesfsuUy 
proclaimed  the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ.  The  ruins  of  the 
chapel  he  first  built  are  still  to  be  seen,  and  the  spot  which 
cont-ains  the  ashes  of  this  venerable  man  of  God  is  still  pointed 
oat  with  sacred  veneration,  in  that  solitary  isle  of  the  ocean. 
How  true  in  him,  "  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed;"  and 
**  The  righteous  shall  be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance." 
*'  The  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  with  you  all.   Amen." 

Your  affectionate  Pastor, 

Alex.  Fletoheb. 


PLAGUE  Of   LONDON— CURIOUS  PRESCRIPTION. 

1636. 

SPIRITUAL   MGAKS  DO   PKESERVE   HEALTH. 

FiBST,  fast  and  pray,  and  then  take  a  Quart  of  repentance  of 
Nineveh;  and  put  in  two  handfuls  of  Faith  in  the  blood  of  Christy 
with  as  much  Hope  and  Charity  as  you  can  get;  and  put  it  into 
the  Yeasel  of  a  clean  Conscience.    Then,  boil  it  on  the  fire  of 
Lote  BO  l(Hig,  till  you  see  by  the  eye  of  Faith  the  black  foam  of 
Love  ef  this  world  stink  in  your  Stomach.    Then,  skim  it  off 
elean  with  the  spoon  of  Faithful  prayers.     When  that  is  done> 
pat  in  the  powder  of  Patience  and  take  the  cloth  of  Christ's  inno> 
oenee,  and  strain  altogether  in  his  Cup.    Then,  drink  it  burning 
hot,  next  thine  heart:  and  cover  thee  warm  with  as  many  clothes 
of  Amendment  of  life  as  God  shall  strengthen  thee  to  bear,  that 
thou  mayest  sweat  out  all  the  poison  of  Covetousness,  Pride^ 
Uncleanness,  Idolatry,  Usury,  Swearing,  Lying,  and  such-like  j 
and  when  thou  feelest  thyselT  improved,  take  the  powder  of  Say- 
well  and  put  it  on  thy  tongue ;  but  drink  thrice  as  much  Do* 
w^l  daily.    Then,  take  the  oil  of  Good  Works,  and  anoint  there* 
with  thine  Eyes,  Ears,  Heart  and  Hands,  that  they  may  be 
leady,  atid  nimble  to  minister  unto  the  poor  Members  of  Christ. 
When  that  is  done,  then,  in  God's  name  arise  from  sin  wil- 
liBgly,  take  up  Christ's  cross  boldly,  stand  into  it  manfully,  bear 
it  patieatly,  and  rest  thankfully ;  and  thou  shalt  live  for  ever, 
Hid  tome  to  Heaven  safely.    To  which  place,  hasten  us,  Lord, 
speedily.    Amen. 

Printed  for  M.  S.  Jitniok. 

**  I  wFoie  the  above  from  one  of  the  printed  bills  or  placards, 
now  in  the  Library  of  Guildhall,  London,  and  which  is  an  exact 
cop^  of  what  was  pasted  up  in  the  streets  during  the  plague  of 
1636." 

To  the  Ber.  Thomas  Baffles,  D.D.»  LIj.D.,  ttom  kLSSJssss^s. 
Flstchsr,  Minister  of  Finsbury  Chapal,  liondoii. 
JfarcA  14, 184S. 


158 


FILIAL  AFFECTIOK^. 

The  Happy  Meeting. — Some  years  ago,  a  pious  widow  in 
America,  who  was  reduced  to  great  poverty,  had  just  placed  tlie 
last  smoked  herring  on  her  table,  to  supply  her  hunger  and  that 
of  her  children,  when  a  rap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  a  stranger 
solicited  a  lodging  and  a  morsel  of  food,  saying  that  he  had  not 
tasted  bread  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  widow  did  not  hesitate, 
but  offered  a  share  to  the  stranger,  saying,  "  We  shall  not  be  for- 
saken, or  suffer  more  deeply  for  an  act  of  charity." 

The  traveller  drew  near  the  table;  but  when  he  saw  the  scanty 
fare,  filled  with  astonishment,  he  said,  "  And  is  this  all  your 
store  ?  And  do  you  offer  a  share  to  one  you  do  not  knowl  Then 
I  never  saw  charity  before !  But,  Madam,  do  you  not  wrong 
your  children  by  giving  a  part  of  your  last  portion  to  a 
stranger)"  "  Ah  !"  said  the  widow,  weeping,  " I  have  a  boy,  a 
darling  son,  somewhere  on  the  face  of  the  wide  world,  ni^ess 
heaven  has  taken  him  away ;  and  I  only  act  towards  you  as  I 
would  that  others  should  act  towards  him.  God,  who  sent  manna 
from  heaven,  can  provide  for  us  as  he  did  for  Israel :  and  hoir 
should  I  this  night  offend  him  if  my  son  should  be  a  wanderer, 
destitute  as  you,  and  he  should  have  provided  for  him  a  home 
even  as  poor  as  this,  were  I  to  turn  you  unrelieved  awayl" 
'  The  widow  stopped,  and  the  stranger,  springing  from  his  seat, 
clasped  her  in  his  arms.  "  God,  indeed,  has  provided  just  snch 
a  home  for  your  wandering  son,  and  has  given  him  wealth  to 
reward  the  goodness  of  his  benefactress.  My  mother !  Oh  my 
mother ! " 

•  It  was  indeed  her  long-lost  son,  returned  from  India.  He  had 
chosen  this  way  to  surprise  his  family,  and  certainly  not  very 
wisely ;  but  never  was  surprise  more  complete,  or  more  joyful. 
He  was  able  to  make  the  family  comfortable,  which  he  imme- 
diately did ;  the  mother  living  some  years  longer  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  plenty. 

The  bbst  Pbesent. — The  three  sons  of  an  Eastern  lady  were 

invited  to  furnish  her  with  an  expression  of  their  love,  before  she 

went  a  long  journey.    One  brought  a  marble  tablet,  with  the 

inscription  of   her  name ;  another  presented  her  with  a  rich 

garland  of  fragrant  flowers  ;  the  third  entered  her  presence,  and 

thus   accosted  her :   "  Mother,  I  have   neither  marble  tablet, 

nor  fragrant  nosegay ;  but  I  have  a  heart.    Here  your  name  is 

engraved,  here  your  memory  is  precious ;  and  this  heart,  full  of 

affection,  will  follow  yo\i  ^Wcevet  -jwi  tw.Yel,  and  remain  with 

TOO  wherever  you  repoae"  ,        .  ^^ 

Happy  the  child  wlio  ca^u  wsj, ''  ^^^^\  '^  Ta.Ta&^^  «N5gc««i 

on  my  heart  !" 


159 


EXTRACT  FROM  THE  LATE  QUEEN  ADELAIDE'S 

LAST  WILL. 

{From  the  London  Gazette.) 

"  I  DIE  in  all  humility,  knowing  well  that  we  are  all  alike  before 
the  throne  of  God ;  and  I  request,  therefore,  that  my  mortal  re- 
mains be  conveyed  to  the  grave  without  any'pomp  or  state.  They 
are  to  be  moved  to  St.  George's  Chapel,  Windsor,  where  I  request 
to  have  as  private  and  quiet  a  funeral  as  possible. 

"  I  particularly  desire  not  to  be  laid  out  in  state,  and  the 
faneral  to  take  place  by  daylight ;  no  procession;  the  cofBn  to  be 
carried  by  sailors  to  the  chapel. 

'<  All  those  of  my  friends  and  relations,  to  a  limited  number, 
who  wish  to  attend,  may  do  so.  3fy  nephew.  Prince  Edward  of 
Saxe- Weimar,  Lords  Howe  and  Denbigh,  the  Hon.  William 
Ashley,  Mr.  Wood,  Sir  Andrew  Barnard,  and  Sir  D.  Davies,  with 
my  dressers,  and  those  of  my  ladies  who  may  wish  to  attend. 

*'  I  die  in  peace,  and  wish  to  be  carried  to  the  tomb  in  peace, 
and  free  from  the  vanities  and  the  pomp  of  this  world. 

"  I  request  not  to  be  dissected,  nor  embalmed ;  and  desire  to 
give  as  little  trouble  as  possible. 

"  Nov.  1841.  "ADELAIDE  R." 


A  LITTLE  HYMN  FOR  A  LITTLE  BOY. 

MASTER  H.  0.  W.    OF  BBISTOL. 

"  I'm  but  a  very  little  boy, 
And  yet  to  me  is  given 
A  soul  that  must  for  ever  dwell 
Either  in  hell  or  heaven. 


t< 


Oh  what  a  wretched  place  is  that 

Where  wicked  people  go  ! 
They  groan,  and  cry,  and  weep,  and  wail 

In  everlasting  woe. 


Lord,  keep  my  heart,  my  hands,  my  tongue, 

That  I  may  not  rebel ; 
Oh,  may  I  always  shun  that  path 

Which  leads  the  soul  to  hell. 

'*  Into  thy  arms  oh  take  me  up, 
Thou  blessed  Son  of  God ; 
Pardon  my  sins,  and  waali  lay  w>\v\ 
Ih  thy  atoning  blood. 


160  POBTBY. 

"  Oh,  let  me  with  my  parents  pray. 
And  praise  and  love  thy  Word  ! 
That  I  at  last  may  meet  with  them 
At  thy  right  hand,  0  Lord. 

"  Then  with  my  heart,  and  harp,  and  voice, 
ril  praise  and  bless  thy  name ; 
With  saints  and  angels  ever  sing 
That  song, '  Worthy  the  Lamb  ! ' " 

Covsntry.  Jo&v  fimiK. 


LINES  OCCASIONED  BY  VISITING  THE   GRATE  0 
AN  AMIABLE  YOUNG  LADY. 

Grave-itone  Inscription^^"  Not  lost,  but  gone  before." 

0*ER  Jordan's  black  and  muddy  stream. 

When  loud  her  yawning  waves  did  roar^ 
I  saw  her  bark  pass  like  a  dream — 
f  But  'tis  not  lost,  though  gone  before. 

Her  pilot  was  the  Prince  of  Life, 

An  angel  swiftly  plied  each  oar; 
How  lovely  such  angelic  strife 

For  those  not  lost,  but  gone  before  ! 

Now  landed  safe  on  Canaan's  coast. 
No  swelling  surge  will  dash  or  roar ; 

Through  Him  who  conquer'd  death  we'll  boast. 
She  is  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

0,  happy  sp'rit,  redeem'd  from  sin, 

And  freed  from  sorrow  evermore. 
With  joy-redeeming  songs  begin. 

With  those  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

Then  wipe  the  tear  from  sorrow's  cheek, 

Nor  be  with  bitter  anguish  tore. 
As  with  the  hopeless,  who  now  weep 

For  those  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

May  we  at  last  the  blessed  join ; 

With  joy  thft^^YWiaJX  w&  Vq  \Jcife\x  lv<ime. 
To  taste  the  io^fe  oi\oN^^\TVTifc, 

With  those  iv.o\.\o«»\.,\»aA.  %Wia\i^1^x^. 


SACRED  BOTANY. 

BAT  TKEE.* 

have  the  name  of  the  Bay-tree  associated  in 
ure  with  the  wiuked  man:  Psal.  xxsTiL  35: 
ve  seen  the  wicked  in  great  power,  and  Bpread- 
imaelf  like  a  green  baj'-tree."  And  how  do 
I  men  resemble  the  Bay-tree  i  Thia  is  a  wide- 
ing  tree  ;  and  tlie  influence  of  the  wicked  is 
extensive.  There  ie  something  very  noble  in  the 
unce  of  the  Baj-tree;  and  the  victories,  honour, 
'oaperity  of  the  wicked,  have  often  made,  in  the 
f  men,  an  imposing  and  gionona  a-^^casMx^ft. 
•j-iptare name  of  thu  J3ay-tiee  i&rrWW,  A»ct(i.c\i., 
Hboye  cat  is  only  a  specimea  ot  &  ^ycwitV  ^^  >Si»"**l' 


162  SACRED   BOTANY. 

and  signifies,  to  spring  up,  or  shoot  forth.  This  lias 
evidently  a  reference  to  the  wide-spreading  brancbes 
and  very  luxuriant  appearance  of  the  Say-tree, 

It  is  considered  that  the  Bay-tree  and  the  Laurd 
are  the  same.  The  Laurus,  or  Bay-tree,  is  a  genns 
of  the  monogynia  order.  There  are  no  less  than  thirty- 
two  species  belonging  to  this  family,  or  genus.  .  The 
most  noted  are  the  following :  the  Nohilis,  or  Ever- 
green Bay-tree ;  Uie  Indica,  or  Indian  Bay-tree,  and 
the  Camphora,  or  Camphor-tree. 

The  Nobilisj  or  Evei^green  Bay-tree,  is  a  native  of 
Italy ;  it  has  an  uptight  trunk,  branching  on  every  side, 
from  the  bottom  to  the  tap.  The  leaves  are  three 
inches  long,  two  broad,  shaped  like  spears,  stiff,  and 
evergreen.  The  flowers  are  small,  of  a  yellow  colour, 
and  in  autumn  and  winter  succeeded  by  red  berries. 

The  Jndica,  or  Indian  Bay*- tree,  rises  with  an 
upright,  straight  trunk,  branching  regularly  twenty  or 
thirty  feet  high.  It  is  adorned  with  very  large  ever- 
green leaves,  and  long  bunches  of  flowers  on  red  foot- 
stalks. These  are  succeeded  by  large  blue  berries  in 
red  cups.  This  species  is  peculiarly  elegant.  The 
appearance  must  be  delightful  in  those  Indian  groves, 
where  they  grow  spontaneously  and  abundantly,  in  all 
their  native  luxuriance. 

The  Camphora,  is  another  noted  species  of  the 
Bay-tree.  Its  roots  smell  stronger  of  camphor  than 
any  other  part  of  the  tree,  and  yield  it  in  greater 
plenty.  The  flowers  are  produced  upon  the  top  of 
foot-stalks.  These  are  slender,  branched  at  the  top, 
and  each  supporting  a  single  flower. 

The  ancient  heathen  made  a  superstitious  use  of  the 
leaves  of  the  Bay-tree,  or  laurel.     The  competitors 
who  were  successful    in   their  public   games,   were 
crowned  with  garlands  formed  of  laurel-leaves.      To 
this  the  apostle  evidently  refers,  when  he  thus  wrote 
to  the  Corinthian  c\i\«c\i\\  C«t/vt.*'l.^\  «  Ajad  every 
man  that  striveth  fox  t\i^  xa^i^VfcT^  '^^  v&tk^t^xr,  \xs.  ^ 
things.     Now  they  do  \t  lo  o\>v^^^  ^  Q«tTXk^>S^^^T^^ , 
but  we  an  incorrupti\Ae." 


163 
SERMON  XT. 

THE  KINO  IN  BIS  BEAUTY. 


"  Thine  eyes  shall  gee  the  King  in  his  heaiUy" — Isa,  xxxiii.  17. 

My  youDg  friends,  the  King  spoken  of  in  our  text 
H  Jesus.  I  wish  to  present  him  before  you  in  his 
beautj.  Do  you  ask  me,  **  Why  ?"  It  is,  that  by  the 
Uessing  of  the  Spirit,  you  may  see  him  and  love  bim. 
I  wish  your  young  hearts  may  be  captivated  with  his 
loveliness.  I  wish  that  you  may  love  him  with  all 
your  hearts.  When  this  fire  of  love  to  Jesus  is  kindled 
in  your  bosom,  by  the  breath  of  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  be  assured,  your  souls  are  saved.  Be  assured, 
jrou  are  on  the  way  to  heaven.  Be  assured,  you  shall 
at  last  reach  the  heavenly  mansions.  Be  assured,  you  shall 
dwell  for  ever  in  the  palace  of  the  beautiful  Eang* 
lliere  never  was  so  beautiful  a  palace  ;  there  never 
was,  there  never  was  so  beautiful  a  Xing  !  Jesus  is 
eiUed  the  King  of  kings.  He  is  infinitely  above  all 
kings.  No  kings  can  reign  without  his  permission. 
Prov.  viii.  15,  16.  He  says  himself,  and  of  himself, 
"By  me  kings  reign,  and  princes  decree  justica  By 
me  princes  rule,  and  nobles,  even  all  the  judges  of  the 
earth."  He  is  King  of  kings,  for  all  kings  must  give 
m  account  to  him  at  the  last,  the  judgment  day.  They 
mast  answer  to  him,  how  they  have  reigned,  and  for 
what  they  have  done.  When  wicked  kings  shall 
appear  before  the  judgment  seat  of  the  King  of  kings, 
their  horror  and  misery  will  exceed  all  description. 
Those  wicked  kings  who  refused  to  show  mercy  on 
earth,  shall  find  no  mercy  at  the  judgment  day.  That 
sentence  will  be  pronounced  upon  them,  and  no  sooner 
pronounced  than  executed,  ''Depart  from  me,  ye 
oulrsed,  into  everlasting  fire."  Then  the  wicked  *'  shall 
go  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  Ti^\.eo\x^  SxiX.^ 
Ufeeteraal"    Matt  xxv.  46* 

Jeaaa  is  infinitely  above   all  kings,  la  f^'H  *^^ 
saut/:.    The  greatest  beauty  that  can  lAoniL  «l'Nm3b%>'w^ 


164  SEEMON. 

wisdom,  holiness,  justice,; and  mercy.  Kings  who  have 
the  most  of  these,  are  the  best,  and  the  loveliest. 
Compared  wilh  these,  robes  wrought  with  gold,  and 
sparkling  with  diamonds,  are  not  worthy  to  be  spoken 
of.  King  John  of  England  wore  the  loveliest  gar- 
ments,' and  the  most  valuable  apparel.  But  under- 
neath these  beautiful  garments  were  concealed  the 
most  hateful  vices,  and  the  most  cruel  passions,  wliich 
rendered  him  a  royal  monster,  and  the  very  perfection 
of  one  of  Satan's  most  faithful  servants.  King  Jesus 
has  every  excellence.  He  is  beautiful  beyond  all  con- 
ception in  the  possession  of  every  perfection. 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  I  will  now 
endeavour  to  show  in  what  Christ's  beauty  appears. 

L  The  beauty  of  King  Jesus  is  seen  in  his 
roisdom.  The  wisdom  of  Christ  is  a  depth  which 
cannot  be  fathomed.  Hear  how  St.  Paul  speaks, 
-when  he  thinks  of  the  depths  of  Christ's  wisdom.  Rom. 
xi.  33,  34  :  "  O  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the 
.wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  !  how  unsearchable  are 
liis  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out !  For 
who  bath  known  the  mind  of  the  Lord  ?  or.  who  hath 
been  his  counsellor  ?"  Jesus  is  so  wise,  that  he  knows 
all  creatures,  and  all  things.  He  knows  every  angel; 
and  he  knows  every  child.  He  knows  every  beast  of 
the  earth,  and  every  fish  which  swims  in  the  sea.  He 
knows  every  creeping  thing,  and  every  winged  insect 
that  fiutters  in  the  sunbeam. 

Jesus  is  so  wise,  that  all  the  wisdom  of  the  wise 
comes  from  him.  He  gives  wisdom  to  seraphs,  and 
wisdom  to  saints.  He  is  not  only  the  Lord  of  angels^ 
but  the  Teacher  of  angels.  He  gives  wisdom  tt 
ministers ;  and  condescends  to  give  wisdom  to  pious 
children.  Amazing  is  the  extent  of  the  ocean :  but 
compared  with  the  greatness  of  Christ's  wisdom,  it  i« 
Jess,  than  a  drop.  TVvfttfe^OT^\\.\asaid,  Col.  ii.  3,  "In 
him  are  hid  a\\t\letTe«l^\itft^Q'"^^^s.$iG\s^.^\AV\^^^^ 

Jesus  is  so  wise,  t\va\.\\e  ^o^^  ^^^^i  \\\v£i%VQ.^^\K&. 
manner^  and  to.  tUti  \ies.^  ^i^^-    '^Vy^ V^  ^5l W  wa&s 


SEBMON.  165 

this  he  does  in  providence,  and  this  he  does  most  won-' 
derfully  in  redemption.  Let  me  beseech  you,  my 
young  friends,  to  place  yourselves  under  Jesus,  as  a 
wise  Teacher.  He  will  teach  you  the  most  blessed 
lessons,  which  by  his  Spirit  will  make  you  wise  unto 
salvation  ;  yes,  and  these  lessons  too,  will  prepare  you 
for  heaven,  to  take  your  place  among  holy  saints  and 
spotless  angels.  There  are  no  children  happy  but  those 
who  are  the  scholars  of  Christ. 

"Oh,  happy  is  the  child  who  hears, 
Instruction's  warning  voice, 
And  who  celestial  wisdom  makes, 
His  only,  early  choice  !" 

II.  Tiie  beauty  of  King  Jesus  is  seen  in  his  power,. 
We  can  see  no  loveliness  in  power,  unless  we  see  power. 
in  tiie  service  of  wisdom,  or  holiness,  or  mercy. 
Power  connected  witii  one,  or  all  of  these,  is  infinitely 
more  beautiful  than  we  can  conceive.  Look  to  the  sun, 
moon;  and  stars.  Behold  their  beauty,  admire  their 
glory.  There  you  see  the  beauty  of  CbrisCs  power.- 
Look  to  the  conversion  of  a  little  child.  See  the 
beautiful  graces  which  make  the  soul  of  that  child 
lovely.  When  you  see  this,  you  see  the  beauty  of 
Christ's  power.  For  it  was  the  power  of  Christ's 
Spirit  which  produced  this  great,  this  lovely  change. 

So  powerful  is  Jesus,  that  he  is  called,  Isa.  ix.  6, 
"  The  mighty  God."  Let  us  adore  King  Jesus  in  the 
beauty  of  his  power,  and  sing  : — 

**  By  his  own  power  were  all  things  made, 
By  him  supported  all  things  stand. 
He  is  the  whole  creation's  head, 
And  angels  fly  at  his  command." 

• 

•  m.  The  beauty  of  King  Jesus  is  seen  in  his  holiness. 
The  angels  of  heaven  sing  sweetly  of  the  holiness  of 
Christ.  Rev,  iv.  8  :  "  And  they  rest  not  day  and  night, 
sayings  Holj,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Mtoa^V^^VcaOq^ 
was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come."     Chriat  aa  (accA/^^  .^^^'' 
aus  in  holiness.     Christ  as  man,  is  spot\e%a  mV^^YWi.'a*'^* 


166  SERMON. 

What  is  the  holiness  of  Christ  ?  There  are  varioas 
excellences  which  form  the  holiness  of  Christ  As 
various  lovely  colours  form  the  beautiful  rainbow, 
various  lovely  excellences  form  the  beauty  of  Christfs 
holiness.  His  wisdom,  knowledge,  justice,  love,  mercy, 
and  truth  chiefly  form  the  holiness  of  Christ  And  < 
these  are  all  found  in  Jesus  in  an  infinite  degree. 
Look  to  Christ's  ten  commandments,  and  you  see  the 
lovely  picture  of  the  beauty  of  his  holiness.  Look 
to  his  gospel,  and  there  you  see  the  bright  beams 
of  his  holiness.  Look  to  his  life  when  be  dwelt  on 
earth,  and  you  see  his  holiness  shine  in  every  word 
which  fell  from  his  lips,  in  every  action,  and  in 
every  miracle  he  performed.  What  was  his  example 
for  thirty-three  years,  from  his  birth  to  his  death,  from 
the  manger  to  the  cross  ?  It  was  the  glorious  rainbow 
of  his  holiness.  May  we  love  him  for  his  holiness  as 
well  as  for  his  love  !  Dear  child,  thou  art  on  the  way 
to  heaven,  and  shalt  most  certainly  reach  heaven,  if 
you  have  the  two  following  marks.  First  mark  :  Do 
you  love  Christ  for  his  holiness  ?  Second  mark  :  Do 
you  really  desire  to  be  holy,  as  Christ  is  holy  ?  These 
two  are  sure  marks  of  nn  interest  in  Christ,  and  of  a 
title  to  heaven.  May  our  hearts  feel  the  force  of  the 
following  lines : — 

"  Holy  and  i-everend  is  the  name 
Of  Jesus  our  eternal  King. 
Thrice  holy  Lord  !  the  angels  say ; 
Thrice  holy,  let  us  ever  sing ! " 

rV.  The  beauty  of  King  Jesus  is  seen  in  his  Mercy ^ 
Psal.  ciii.  8  :  "  The  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious, 
slow  to  anger,  and  plenteous  in  mercy.**  What  is 
mercy  ?  It  is  kindness  to  the  miserable  and  unworthy. 
If  there  were  no  sin  in  our  world,  there  would  be  no 
misery.  And  if  there  were  no  misery,  there  would  be 
no  mercy,  because  there  would  be  no  need  of  mercy, 
tli^TQ  would  be  no  <iaW  ^ot  yci^t^'^,  5^*3s\%  U  full  of 
mercy.  Therefore  Yia  \%  e^^^  w«tc?ij\i\..  \i«^^ 
Children  could  never  \ia^e\>^^Tv%vi^^,>w^^'aa.^^x».\a^ 


SERMON.  167 

me  down  from  heaven  to  earth  to  save.  If  he  had 
»t  been  merciful,  he  would  have  never  come  on  such 
:  en*and.  But  he  did  come,  because  he  is  merciful, 
nless  he  had  died  on  a  cross  to  satisfy  offended  justice, 
tie  children  could  never  have  been  saved.  Because 
!  is  merciful,  he  died  upon  a  cross  to  save.  What 
Dnderful  mercy  is  this  !  Many  merciful  persons  will 
►  much,  and  give  much  to  relieve  the  miserable, 
at  how  few  are  to  be  found  who  will  die  for  the 
iserable  !  Very,  very  few  indeed  !  Rom.  v.  7 :  "  For 
TTcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die."  You  cannot 
id  one  among  ten  hundred  thousand  willing  to  lay 
fwn  his  life  for  the  best  man  on  earth.  What  does 
;sus  do  ?  He  lays  down  his  life,  not  for  righteous 
it  for  sinners.  He  lays  it  down  for  the  chief  of 
iners.  Hom.  v.  6,  8  :  "  In  due  time  Christ  died  for 
e  ungodly.  While  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for 
,*'  This  was  indeed  a  wonderful  display  of  mercy. 
iarch  the  universe,  and  there  is  not  to  be  found  sucli 
lother.  So  great,  so  wonderful  is  this  mercy,  that  its 
[ual  shall  never  be  found  through  the  endless  ages  of 
ernity.  John,  the  beloved  disciple,  when  in  the  Isle 
'  Patmos,  saw  a  glorious  vision  of  Christ  in  heaven, 
ow  did  he  appear  ?    We  have  this  question  answered 

Rev.  iv.  3,  &c.  John  saw  the  Saviour  on  a  glorious 
rone.  And  he  saw  a  rainbow  round  about  the  throne 
IB  unto  an  emerald.  Emerald  is  a  lovely  green,  a 
(lour  peculiarly  delightful  and  pleasing  for  the  eye  to 
ok  npon.     This  emerald  rainbow  we  may   consider 

an  emblem  of  divine  mercy.  And  this  throne  is 
holly  surrounded  by  the  emerald  rainbow.     It  is  not 

mere  rainbow  above  it,  and  on  each  side  of  it ;    but 

is  around  it,  showing  the  glorious  and  prevailing 
>undance  of  divine  mercy. 

Is  Jesus  80  merciful  ?     Then  what  encouragement 
lis  gives  to  little  children  to  flee  to  Je&ua  ^ot  nv^^c^  * 
e  has  merciful  arms  with  whieli  he  \a  -wVXVvciw  \.<i  ^\x^- 
ace  little  children.     Never  were  inolVeT'^  ivxttv^  ^o 
rciful  as  bis.     He  has  a  bosom  of  m^xc^/^^'*^^^'^ 


168  CHOICE   SAYINGS. 

to  lay  little  children.  Never  was  inother's  bosom  so 
merciful  as  his.  Flee,  children,  flee  to  the  Saviour's 
arms  of  mercy  !  Flee,  children,  flee  to  the.  Saviour's 
bosom  of  mercy !  When  you  flee  to  these  merciful 
arms,  and  to  that  merciful  bosom,  you  will  take  up  the 
following  joyful  song  and  sing: — 

"  Oh,  bless  the  Lord  my  soul ; 
Nor  let  his  mercies  lie, 
Forgotten  in  unthankfulnes?. 
And  without  praises  die  ! 

"  'Tis  he  forgives  thy  sins, 
'Tis  he  relieves  thy  pain, 
'Tis  he  that  heals  thy  sicknesses. 
And  makes  thee  young  again." 

CONCLUSION. 

Dear  young  friends,  allow,  me  to  asTs,  is  this  lovely 
Saviour,  is  Jesus,  the  beautiful  King,  your  Saviour, your 
Jesus,  your  King  ?  If  he  is  not,  and  if  you  die  as 
you  now  are,  you  must  perish  for  ever.  Oh,  dreadful 
thought  !  Oh,  heart-rending  thought !  But  if  he  is 
your  Saviour,  your  Jesus,  and  your  King,  how  blessed 
are  ye  !  When  you  die,  you  shall  die  to  live.  When 
you  die,  your  souls  shall  rise  to  the  glories  of  heavea 
You  shall  for  ever  see  the  King  in  his  beauty,  ia  the 
land  which  is  afar  off!  A.  F. 


CHOICE  SAYINGS. 

1.  A  Cottage,  a  Palace. — The  most  insignificant  cottage  of  a 
believer  may  be  called  a  palace,  since  it  is  the  king's  presence 
which  constitutes  a  court. 

2.  Happiwess — To  endeavour  to  make  our  fellow-creatuie? 
happy,  is  the  way  to  render  ourselves  happy. 

3.  Means  of  Comfort  to  the  Afflicted. — A  kind  word,  nay, 
even  a  kind  look,  often  affords  comfort  to  the  afflicted. 

4.  Flower  of  Youth,  when  loveliest. — The  flower  of  youth 
never  appears  more  beautiful  than  when  it  bends  towards  the  Son 
of  Righteousness. 

0  Thow  itoTQ.  '^\voTa.  \j}\  ^^q^^^rs^  ^'cs'?^^ 

In  a\\  luy  aoTTON?^,  <iWka:\e.\A,^^y«fe, 
Dear  lioxd,  x^xa^Tfi^^  m^\ 


169 


JOHN  BUNYAN  IN  PRISON. 

It  was  .1  wonderful  day  in  England's  history,  the 
30th  of  January,  1649.  On  this  day  King  Charles 
the  First  was  beheaded,  and  the  three  kingdoms  became 
a  republic.  Cromwell  was  chosen  Lord  Protector,  and 
continued  so  till  the  3d  of  September,  1658,  when  he 
died.  During  the  Commonwealth  the  principles  of 
religious  and  civil  liberty  made  rapid  progress  ;  and 
all  parties  enjoyed  great  happiness.  At  once  these 
enjoyments  are  cut  off,  and  a  dark  cloud  hangs  over 
the  religious  community.  On  the  29th  of  May,  1660, 
Charles  the  Second  ascended  the  throne  of  his  father, 
and  so  restored  the  monarchial  form  of  government. 
Although  he  made  many  promises  in  favour  of  the 
dissenters  when  in  exile,  yet  he  seemed  to  forget  them 
all,  and  the  former  days  of  persecution  returned  in  all 
their  vigour.  In  the  second  year  of  his  reign,  was 
passed  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  to  compel  all  to  use  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer  and  to  read  the  Book  of 
Sports  for  the  Sabbath-day.  More  than  2,000  good 
ministers  would  not  do  it,  and  on  that  account  were 
ejected  from  their  pulpits,  and,  with  their  families,  from 
their  happy  homes.  These  godly  men  would  not  stop 
preaching,  and  the  people  were  as  anxious  as  ever  to 
hear  them,  even  on  the  hill-side,  in  dens,  or  caves  of 
the  earth.  To  stop  this,  in  1664  the  Conventicle  Act 
was  passed,  by  which  all  preaching  in  the  open  air  was 
prohibited.  In  this  age  was  Bunyan*s  lot  cast :  as  he 
went  through  the  country,  whenever  he  found  a  few 
people  together,  he  was  willing  to  tell  the  gospel  story. 
He  was  not  allowed  to  do  so  long,  for  he  became 
prisoner  for  nearly  thirteen  years,  in  the  cold  damp 
gaol  of  Bedford.  Here  the  good  man  worked  all  day 
at  tagged  thread  laces,  that  he  might  assist,  at  leasts  in. 
the  support  ofhia  beloved  wife  and  fowi  c^A'Sitesv.  ^tsis^ 
of  bis  dear  children ,  was  blind.  Slae  v^ti^  «^crw^^^.^. 
remain  with  him  during  the  day,  and  t\i\xa  v«^^  ^  ^^»^ 


170  JOHN   BUNTAN  IN  PRISON. 

comfort  to  liis  heart,  and  a  companion  in  his  work 
In  this  dreary  dungeon  was  written  **  The  Pilgrim's 
Progress" — a  hook,  which^has  for  ages  interested  the 
youthful  mind,  instructed  the  anxious  inquirer,  com- 
forted the  aged  pilgrim,  and  made  him  sing  in  bis 
wanderipgs  to  the  celestial  city, 

"  There  is  my  honee  and  portion  &ir. 
My  treasure  and  my  heart  are  there. 

And  my  abiding  home. 
For  me  my  elder  brethren  stay. 
And  angels  beckon  me  away. 
And  Jesus  bids  me  come." 

Let  us  enter  his  little  cell.  He  is  sitting  at  his 
table,  to  finish  by  sun-light,  the  day's  work  for  the 
livelihood  of  his  dear  family.  On  a  little  stool  his 
poor  blind  child  sits  by  him,  and  with  that  expression 
of  cheerful  resignation,  with  which  God  seals  the 
countenance  when  he  takes  away  the  light,  the  daughter 
turns  her  face  up  to  her  father,  as  if  she  could  see  the 
aifectionate  expression  with  which  he  looks  upon  her, 
and  prattles  to  her.  On  the  table  and  in  the  grated 
window  there  are  three  books,  the  Bible,  the  Concord- 
ance, and  an  old  copy  of  the  Book  of  Martyrs.  And 
now  the  day  is  waning,  and  his  dear  blind  child  must 
go  home  with  the  laces  he  has  finished,  to  her  mother. 
And  now  Bunyan  opens  his  Bible,  and  reads  aloud  a 
portion  of  Scripture  to  his  little  one,  and  then  encircling 
her  in  his  arms,  and  clasping  her  small  hands  in  his, 
he  kneels  down  on  the  cold  stone  floor,  and  pours  out 
his  soul  in  prayer  to  God  for  the  salvation  of  those  so 
dear  to  him,  and  for  whom  he  has  been  all  day  working. 
So  daily  he  prays  for  them  and  for  her,  and  daily  he 
prays  with  her,  and  teaches  his  blind  child  to  pray. 
This  done,  with  a  parting  kiss,  he  dismisses  her  to  her 
mother,  by  the  rough  hands  of  the  gaoler. 

And  now  it  is  evenm^.     A  rude  lamp  glimmers 
darkly  on  the  ta\>\e,  t^ie  \;a.^^^^  X^.^^'^  «t^\^\\  ^Vda^ 
and  Bunyan,  alone,  la  Way  yiVeXv  \i\%  ^^^^  ^^  ^x.- 
cordance,  and  his  pen,  mV,  wi^  ^^^^^-   ^^  ^^^^  ^ 


GOD   THE   COMFORTER*  171 

Ugh  joy  did  make  him  write.  His  pale  worn 
ntenance  is  lighted  up  with  a  fire,  as  if  reflected 
n  the  radiant  jasper  walls  of  the  celestial  city.  He 
tes,  and  smiles,  and  clasps  his  hands,  and  looks 
(rards,  and  hlesses  God  for  his  goodness,  and  then 
in  turns  to  his  writing,  and  then  hecomes  so 
ranced  with  a  passage  of  Scripture,  the  glory  of 
eh  the  Holy  Spirit  lets  in  upon  his  soul,  that  he  is 
;ed,  as  it  were,  to  lay  aside  all  his  labours,  and  give 
iself  to  the  sweet  work  of  his  closing  evening's 
otions.  The  last  you  see  of  him  for  the  night,  ne 
ilone,  kneeling  on  the  floor  of  his  prison.  He  is 
je  with  God.  J.  W.  A. 


POETRY. 

GOD  THE  COMFORTER. 

Ik  trouble  and  in  grief,  0  God  I 
Thy  smile  hath  cheer'd  my  way  ; 

And  joy  hath  budded  from  each  thorn 
Tlmt  round  my  footsteps  lay. 

The  hours  of  pain  have  yielded  good 
Which  prosperous  days  refused. 

As  herbs,  though  scentless  when  entire. 
Spread  fragrance  when  they're  bruised. 

The  oak  strikes  deeper,  as  its  boughs 
By  furious  blasts  are  driven ; 

So  life's  vicissitudes  the  more 
Have  fix'd  my  heart  on  heaven. 

All-gracious  Lord  !  whatever  my  lot 

In  other  times  may  be, 
I'll  welcome  still  the  heaviest  grief 

That  brings  me  nearer  Thee. 


HE  following  beautiful  lines,  on  the  Miracle  performed  at  the 
riage  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  are  attributed  to  \)T^^<»i.— ^  .^» 

'^The  modest  water,  awed  by  power  divine, 
Confess'd  the  Goj>, — and  biuah'd  VtaeVS  U>  mxtfe^" 


172 


WARNING  TO  THE  YOUNG  TO  AVOID  FAIBS. 

Originally  delivered  to  Teachers  and  Elder  Scholars  in  Booking, 

Essex. 

Mr  DKAB  TOUKG  Friekds, — We  have  invited  you  to  meet  us, 
your  friends  and  teachers,  here  this  evening,  that  we  may  pray 
for  yon  and  with  you,  that  yon  may  pray  with  us,  and  unite  in 
Supplication  to  the  God  of  grace,  that  he  would  watch  over  you 
and  preserve  you  amidst  the  temptations  of  the  coming  week,  in 
consequence  of  the  fair  which  is  to  be  held  in  the  adjoining 
town. 

It  is  always  a  time  of  great  danger  to  young  persons  of  your 
age.  Some  of  you  have  reached  the  age  at  which  you  are 
denominated,  and  are,  young  women,  and  many  more  are  just 
approaching  that  period  of  your  existence.  A  large  public  fair, 
like  the  one  about  to  be  held,  is  always  a  scene  of  great  pro- 
fligacy  and  demoralization.  There  is  generally  much  to  attract 
youDg  persons  of  your  age  and  station  in  life.  Much  is  exhibited 
from  which  it  is  difficult  to  turn  away  the  eye,  or  avert  the 
attention.  A  great  many  of  those  who  assemble,  and  especially 
in  the  evening,  are  men  of  debased  and  immoral  character, 
persons  of  impure  minds  and  unprincipled  habits.  And  it 
seldom  occurs  that  you  can  pass  through  the  throng  without 
having  your  ears  assailed  with  profligate  and  indecent  expressions, 
as,  also,  most  horrid,  profane,  and  blasphemous  oaths ;  so  that  it 
is  next  to  impossible  to  frequent  those  haunts  of  evil  without 
the  mind  of  the  virtuous  and  innocent  being  more  or  less  violated 
or  injured. 

The  object  we  have  in  view  is  to  endeavour  to  dissuade  you 
from  attending  this  fair,  where  to  you  no  good  can  accrue,  but 
much  evil  may  be  sustained.  Some  of  your  friends  thought  the 
meeting  would  not  be  exactly  what  they  wished,  or  quite  in 
accordance  with  their  intention,  unless  a  short  address  was 
deliverad  to  you,  as  well  as  prayer  offered  to  God  on  your  behalf. 
I  shall  not  detain  you  many  minutes  with  what  I  have  to  say, 
defective  I  know  it  will  be,  yet,  feeling  myself  surrounded  by 
personal  friends,  both  as  regards  teachers  and  scholars,  I  trust  to 
your  kindness  and  charity  to  pardon  all  errors ;  and  although 
there  are  others  who  could  address  you  much  better,  none  can 
do  it  more  sincerely,  or  with  a  more  earnest  desire  for  your 
spiritual  welfare. 

I  By  some,  and  those  not  few,  childhood  is  called  the  hap- 
piest portion  of  our  moT\a\  a^wiy  V\a  innocent   gaiety,   its 
conMing  sweetness,  its  buoyant  «nA.  ^S^cMvyoaJ^  ^^^^^i^sa,  its 
gruBb  of  tears,  its  glow  of  letwrnms  ^^^^>  ^^^^^  ^wmA  W  «b. 
indescribable  charm.    V^Uxe  U  i\i^  m^w^^aaN.  ^V^  ^^  ^^>* 


WARNING  TO  THE  YOUNG  TO  AVOID  FAIRS.       173 

e^joy  the  sight  of  children  at  play,  and  feel  himself  enlisted 
imperceptibly  in  their  schemes  of  pleasure?  But  childhood  has 
its  cares  and  its  sorrows.  What  care  is  often  observed  contracting 
the  brow,  clouds  coming  over  the  cheerful  countenance  and 
showers  of  tears  rolling  down  the  lovely  face  !  Every  stage  of 
our  mortal  journey  has  its  hopes,  and -disappointments,  its  cares, 
and  its  alleviations,  its  joys  and  its  sorrows.  How  often  have 
you  raised  expectations  of  anticipated  pleasure,  and  circum- 
stances which  could  not  have  been  controlled  by  previous  fore- 
sight  have  rendered  the  disappointment,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself,  doubly  vexatious.  Prom  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  it  is 
with  all  of  us  a  chequered  scene :  the  sunshine  of  pleasure  to- 
day may  be,  and  often  is,  followed  on  the  morrow  by  trials  and 
troubles  greater  than  we  feel  to  have  fortitude  to  bear.  Perhaps 
youth  is  the  happiest  portion  of  the  earthly  existence  of  those 
upon  whom  the  sanctifying  influence  of  religion  has  never  come. 
Such  do  not  look  beyond  the  present  passing  scene ;  all  beyond 
is  dark,  unknown.  I  would  not  drop  one  ingredient  of  nliseiy 
into  your  cup,  or  extinguish  one  generous  thought,  or  curb  one 
rational  anticipation.  I  know  not  a  scene  more  cheering, 
animating,  and  delightful,  than  a  company  of  young  persons 
enjoying  themselves  in  social  and  rational  amusement.  Still  are 
there  not  many  who  can  scarcely  speak  of  their  youth  but  with 
tears,  and  who  shudder  as  they  think  of  the  vortex  from  which 
they  are  rescued?  May  you  so  pass  through  the  dangerous 
period  of  youth  as  that  no  tear  may  dim  your  eye,  and  on  looking 
back  may  your  recollections  of  this  evening  be  those  of  joy  and 
not  of  sorrow.  "  Remember  not  against  me,"  says  one  who  had 
entered  the  vale  of  years,  **  the  sins  of  my  youth."  Who  cannot 
echo  the  prayer,  and  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  sentiment? 
The  fairest  specimen  of  uncorrupted  youth  will  not  bear  to  be 
examined  by  one  test,  or  measured  by  one  unbending  rule. 
Let  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  each  be  taken  into  the  account, 
and  every  one  judge  for  herself  by  the  one  only  unerring  rule 
"that  man  possesses —the  Word  of  God. 

There  are  dangers  to  which  you  are  exposed,  and  they  are  not 
the  less  real  because  the  apprehension  of  them  disturbs  not  your 
bosom.    The  greatest  perils  are  often  concealed,  and  lie  hidden 
from  our  view,  and  often  a  lon&r  period  elapses  before  we  are  able 
to  comprehend  the  danger  by  which  we  are  beset.     Youth 
is  alive  to  every  impression,  and  throws  open  her  arms,  with 
unsuspecting  confidence,  to  every  plausible  companion.    Often 
the  very  confidence  of  youth  becomes  the  occasion  of  ruin  to 
many.    The  iusidious  foe  knows  how  to  accommodate  the  youn^ 
mind,  and  graduates  the  degrees  of  tempVaWon  ^o  >i)aaN.^wv'a!a:j 
almost  imperceptibly  pass  from  that  \me  oi  ^ioxAMcX.  ^^s^s3tt.^^ 
right  and  proper  to  that  which  is  wrong.    Ytom  ^\esia»>a:t«8»  Vg^ 
majr  be  termed  innocent  to  those  ^hVcYi  «t^  ^^e.^^  ^•'^ 


174       WABKIKG  TO  THE  YOUNG  TO  AVOID  FAIBS; 

there  is  aa  approximation  which  is  not  the  less  &tal  because  ii 
is  gradual  and  unperceived.  There  is  a  sort  of  diading  off  in 
this  criminal  process  of  seduction  that  keeps  the  mind  inat- 
tentive to  its  progress  from  innocence  to  guilt.  That,  which  if 
presented  in  tne  early  stages  of  your  career,  would  startle  your 
YOung  minds  with  horror,  finds,  after  aggravated  temptatiom 
have  gradually  weakened  your  moral  powers,  aa  nnresisted 
entrance  to  your  hearts.  The  steps  of  your  downward  progress 
you  may  not  discern  ,*  but  the  extremes  will  often  strike  the 
soul  like  the  knell  of  departed  happiness.  It  does  not  often 
occur  that  young  persons  abandon  themselves  at  once  to  BiaTiil 
pleasures ;  it  is  generally  a  gradual  and  slow  process,  as  I  befoxe 
observed :  and  if  you  do,  there  will  sometimes  flash  upon  you 
the  recollection  of  former  rectitude. 

The  young  wish  to  see  and  know  for  themselves.  Confident 
of  their  own  power  to  resist  temptation,  they  venture  upon  the 
brink ;  and,  alas !  they  too  often  find  that  curiosity  is  the 
gateway  to  desire,  and  that  self  confidence  is  a  broken  reed, 
inadequate  to  their  support.  I  can  point  out  to  you  but  one 
effectual  defence  against  doing  wrong — tJie  fear  of  God,  The 
servant  of  God  declared  this  to  be  Ms  security,  his  preventive 
from  doing  wrong.  **  So  did  not  I,  because  of  the  fear  of  God." 
Neh.  V.  16. 

From  this  immoral  band  I  warn  you,  if  yon  feel  them  drawing 
you  aside.  May  I  not  say  to  you,  my  young  friends,  "  Come  not 
thou  into  their  secret ;  unto  their  assembly,  mine  honour,  be  not 
thou  united]"  Gen.  xlix.  6.  Plant  your  feet  on  this  side  their 
sensual  domains,  and  die  rather  than  be  seduced  by  their 
machinations,  as  you  value  your  peace  in  this  world,  and  as  you 
value  salvation  beyond  the  tomb.  I  beseech  you  to  proclaim 
eternal  warfare  with  the  principles  and  habits  of  sinful  pleasure. 

In  drawing  these  remarks  to  a  close,  you  will  perceive  that  in 
depicting  the  dangers  and  temptations  to  which  the  young  are 
exposed,  it  is  because  I  have  so  often  to  witness  the  wreck  of 
youthful  character.  You  are  young,  your  character  is  yet  sus- 
ceptible of  a  change  that  would  render  you  an  ornament  to  the 
community  and  a  candidate  for  a  brighter  world.  I  present 
these  remarks  as  the  pledge  of  my  interest  in  your  welfare. 
**  Life  is  a  vapour  which  appeareth  but  a  little  while,  and  then 
vanisheth  away."  As  you  anticipate  the  prospects  and  pleasures 
of  life,  may  you  learn  to  moderate  your  expectations  from  earth, 
and  seek  a  better  and  more  enduring  substance  in  heaven ! 

Bayke  Lodge,  Essex.  R.  B. 


175 


REVIEWS. 

Publications  of  the  Weekly  Tract  Society,  8,  St.  Ann's  Lane;, 
St.  Martin's-le-Grand.    London. 

This  Society  was  formed  in  December  1847,  and  has  now,  by  the 
kind  providence  of  God,  been  upheld  in  active  operation,  for 
three  years.  The  formation  of  the  great  "  London  Tract  Society," 
was  tmly  the  commencement  of  a  most  propitious  era  in  the 
history  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  It  has  reached  a  majestic  height, 
and  its  operations  are  gigantic.  It  was  the  precursor  of,  and 
gave  rise  to  the  **  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society."  It  shall 
be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance  ! 

The  Weekly  Tract  Society  has  originated  in  the  same  spirit 
of  Christian  Benevolence,  and  is  animated  by  the  same  motive, 
**  the  salvation  of  souls."  We  have  read  many  of  the  Tracts  with 
peculiar  delight,  and  can,  from  an  experience  of  the  rich  truths 
which  they  contain,  recommend  them  to  Ministers,  as  suggestive 
of  materials  most  useful  for  appropriate  pulpit  addresses.  Great 
wisdom  and  ingenuity  are  manifested  in  the  Titles  of  the  Tracts, 
of  which  the  rollowing  furnish  a  specimen :  **  The  Death  of 
Cranmer,"  "  The  Blind  Traveller,"  "  The  Falling  Leaf,"  «  Death- 
bed Repentance,"  "  She's  gone,  She's  gone,"  **  The  Loss  of  the 
Soul,"  "  Balm  in  Gilead,"  «  My  Father's  House,"  "  The  Rock," 
"  Too  Late,"  "  None  but  Jesus,"  &c.  &c 

We  believe  that  the  encouragement  of  this  Society  will  be 
acceptable  to  God,  and  beneficial  to  man. 

Scripture  Natural  History.    By  the  Rev.  J.  Young,  M.A. 

This  elegant  little  book,  consisting  of  158  pages,  contains 
twenty-six  subjects,  taken  from  the  Sacred  Oracles,  and  is  tastefully 
enriched  by  pictorial  illustrations.  We  strongly  recommend  this 
work  to  our  young  friends,  as  calculated  both  to  excite  their 
i nterest,  and  promote  their  improvement.  The  reader  is  furnished 
by  numerous  well  selected  anecdotes,  which  greatly  enliven  the 
narrative,  and  which  tend  to  impress  the  different  subjects  on  the 
youthful  remembrance.    We  give  the  following  as  a  specimen. 

''THE   EAGLE. 

"  A  singular  providence  happened  to  a  native  of  the  Isle  of  Skye. 
When  an  infant,  he  was  left  by  his  mother  in  a  field,  not  far  from 
the  houses.  An  eagle  came  and  carried  him  away  in  its  talons 
as  far  as  the  south-side  of  the  Loch,  (or  Lake,)  and  there  laid  him 
down  on  the  ground.  Some  people  perceiving  it,  ran  immediately 
to  the  rescue  of  the  dear  babe,  and  carried  him  home  to  hia 
mother  ! 

"^  child,  a  year  old,  was  seized  by  an.  ea.g\^  m  otkB  <aJl  ^Qaa 
Orknej  JsIandB,  which  carried  it  to  its  eyrie,  ox  -naeX,  ?iJaaviN»  ^««^ 
miles  distant    The  mother,  who  was  aware  oi  l\i«i  «v\»\saXAss^  w 


176  REVIEWS. 

her  beloved  child,  pursued  the  bird  to  its  eyrie.  She  most  provi- 
dentially found  it  unhurt  in  the  nest,  and  took  it  home/' 

Voices  from  the  Garden;  or,   Ths  Christian    Language  of 
Floioers,    London :  Partridge  &  Oakey,  Paternoster  Kow. 

'  The  design  of  this  beautiful  little  manual,  consistiiig  of  thirty- 
eight  pages,  is  to  convey  useful  and  sacred  instmotion  to  the 
youthful  mind,  by  means  of  flowers,  and  plants,  and  weeds,  and 
shrubs,  and  trees.  The  ingenious  and  anonymous  anther  has 
shown  great  judgment  in  the  execution  of  his  design.''  The 
specimens  he  has  taken  from  the  Vegetable  Kingdoni  are  thirty- 
two.  Each  specimen  is  a  moral  figure,  and  most  appropriate  in 
its  application. 

The  Sunflower,  represents  the  love  of  truth ;  the  ConvolTulos, 
weakness ;  the  Lily,  purity ;  the  Vine,  fruitfulness ;  the  Slrafr- 
berry,  humility ;  the  Almond,  early  decision ;  the  Nettle,  peevish- 
ness ;  the  Mignonette,  sweetness  without  ostentation ;  the 
Camomile,  wholesome  bitterness;  and  the  Sensitiye  Plant,  tender- 
ness of  conscience. 

We  give  the  Author's  illustration  of  the  Sensitive  Plant,  to 
prove  how  happy  and  successful  he  is,  in  making  the  objects  of 
nature  subservient  to  the  best  interests  of  the  soul. 

"  THE  SENSITIVE  PLANT.      TENDERNESS  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

Men  whose  hearts  God  had  touched.    1  Sam.  x.  26. 

"  How  sensitively  thou  dost  shrink,  my  gentle  friend. 
From  ev'n  the  tenderest  touch  !  How  delicate. 
How  subtle  and  refined  thy  nerves  must  be. 
That  the  most  careful  finger  jars  thy  frame 
With  such  a  thrilling  shock  !  Alas,  alas  ! 
AVhy  is  not  conscience  thus  ]  why  not  alive 
With  an  increased  vitality,  a  sense 
All  tremulous  to  holiness  and  sin. 
And  vibrating  with  godly  tenderness  ] 
Oh  Thou  who  gav'st  the  conscience,  keep  it  still 
Keenly  alive  to  duty  and  to  truth, 
And  sensitive  to  evil ;  let  it  not. 
Trampled  by  sin,  become  the  devil's  road. 
And  sear'd  to  good  impressions ;  make  it  soft^ 
The  yielding  wax  to  thy  thrice-holy  seal. 
The  plastic  clay  in  thy  thrice-holy  hand. 
Prom  every  sin  let  me  abhorrent  shrink, 
To  every  good  still  bend  a  ready  ear ; 
Till  all  my  nature  be  attuned  to  Heaven, 
And  every  puVse  \^ito\i  \.q  w\^  Y^lhar'a  praise  !  " 

We  warmly  reqneat  o\xt  "jowVMvjX  ^veiA^  Xa  ^^^  ^>&\\^«&\ 
instructor  a  place  in  tbeix  iuvemV^  Wowx^ .    k^  ^.  YRSfc^^  ^-^  ^ 
to  the  young,  it  is  moat  auVtaXAe  w^^  y^^vstfiva.  K.^^ 


SCBIPTUEE  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

BIBDS'  HESTS. 

There  are  few  things  bo  pleasing  to  the  eye  as  a 
lir^t  nett.     Even  children  of  very  tender  age  look 
ipon  it  with  delight.    The  Bible  ia  iull  of  the  most 
leautiful,  striking,  and  glowing  fignTes,  employed  in 
:be  illustration  of  divine  truth.     The  nests,  the  habi- 
atione  of  birds,  form  a  part  of  this  rich  assemblage  o£ 
lacred  %ures.     Take  f  lie  following  examples :  Ps.  civ. 
12,  "By  them,"  that  is,  on  trees  beside  (he  flowing 
itreams,   "shall  the  fowls  of  the  heaven  have  their 
habitation,  which  sing  among  the  branches  ;"  ver,  16, 
'  The  trees  of  the  Lord  are  full  of  sap  ;  the  cedara  <X. 
Lebanon,  which  he  hath  planted  f    tm.  \T,  ""^Xikkxi 
be  birda  make  their  nests  :  aa  for  \\ve  6toT\i,fti«  Sst- 
■eesare  Aer  house."  Matt.  viii.  20-.  lleteovi.v  §»nSek» 
trodacea  the  nests  of  birds  aa  iUuaUa.\.vv(i  o^  ^*  ** 
M 


178  SCRIPTURE  NATURAL   UISTOBr. 

traordinary  poverty,  to  which  he  willingly  submitted, 
that  we  might  inherit  the  riches  of  immortality.  He 
says,  (and  it  should  draw  tears  from  our  eyes !)  *^  The 
birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but  the  Son  of  man  hath 
not  where  to  lay  his  head.** 

Grod  teaches  birds  when  to  place  their  nests.  They 
choose  situatioof  tbe  imM  secure  from  their  enemies, 
and  at  a  suitable  distanee  from  plants  the  effluvia  of 
which  would  piore  injurious  or  destructive  to  their 
offspring.  Who  taught  them  this  instinctive  wisdom? 
God! 

There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  structure  of  nest^ 
both  as  to  forms  and  materiab ;  but  thej  are  all  suited 
to  the  nature  of  the  young  for  whom  they  are  prepared. 
Some  are  formed  of  a  few  sticks,  without  any  Bot't 
covering ;  while  others^  in  softness  and  elegance,  exceed 
the  beds  prepared  for  infant  princes.  The  ingenuity 
of  some  Indian  birds  is  truly  astonishing ;  to  secure 
their  eggs  from  the  ravages  of  apes,  monkeys  and  other 
beasts  of  prey,  which  would  fall  upon  tliem  and  deTour 
tkeni,  they  suspend  their  nests  to  branches  hanging 
over  flowing  streams. 

The  nest  of  the  Indian  swallow  is  of  a  very  singular 
composition.  The  substance  of  which  the  neist  consists 
id  a  spumous  matter,  which  is  found  ou  the  sea-shore, 
washed  thither  by  the  waves.  This  is  collected  by  the 
birds  in  the  breeding  season,  and  with  which  they  build 
their  nests  in  the  rocks.  They  are  of  a  hemispheric 
figure,  about  the  size  of  a  goose's  egg,  and  in  substance 
resembling  isinglass.  These  are  gathered  by  the  Chinese 
in  immense  quantities,  and  sold,  and  sent  to  all  the 
civilized  portions  of  the  globe.  They  dissolve  in 
broths,  and  make  a  jelly  of  a  very  delicious  flavour. 

Such  is  the  elegance  generally  of  birds*  nests,  that 
human  art,  with  all  its  ingenuity,  is  scarcely  able,  if 
able  at  all,  to  form  a  structure  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  the  residence  lew^^  ^07  ^\\i^<id  tribes.  May  we 
be  filled  with  adoritvg  a&\.o\vv^m«i!»x  ^  ^^^vfij^xi^  ^sA. 
power  of  Go<^  wlio  \a  VXi^  V^«Lc5vi^iT  oS.  ^^.\v5»^^ia  ^^^s^ 
instr ucter  of  buds  \  ^'*' 


179 
SERMON  XII. 

CHRIST   THE   KING   OF   GLORY. 


"  He  is  the  King  qf  Glory  r—Ps.  xxW.  10. 

Ohildrbk  generally  consider  kings  very  wonderful 
ngs.  When  tbey  think  of  their  beautiful  robes,  of 
>  golden  crown,  sparkling  with  jewels,  which  is  placed 
on  their  head,  of  the  sceptre  which  is  in  th^eir  riglit 
ttd,  of  the  thrones  on  which  they  sit,  of  the  nobles 
i  princes  by  whom  they  are  surrounded,  of  the 
laces  in  which  they  dwell,  and  of  the  powerful  armies 
lich  they  command,  they  are  ready  to  say.  What 
inderful  beings  must  kings  be  !  Oh,  how  we  should 
e  to  see  them  in  their  glory!  I  have  seen  earthly 
igs ;  and  I  have  been  disappointed  in  what  I  saw. 
ley  are  not  the  glorious  beings  whom  little  children 
tisider  them  to  be.  What  are  kings  and  princes  ? 
ley  must  suffer  like  other  men  ;  they  must  die  like 
ier  men  ;  they  must  be  laid  in  the  grave,  like  other 
m !  David  himself  was  a  king  ;  and  how  does  he 
eak  of  kings  ?  He  says,  Ps.  cxlvi.  3,  4,  "  Put  not 
ur  trust  in  princes,  nor  in  the  son  of  man,  in  whotn 
ere  is  no  help.  His  breath  goeth  forth,  he  returneth 
his  earth  ;  in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish." 
Earthly  kings,  when  compared  with  King  Jesus, 
ik  into  insignificance.  Compared  with  him,  they  are 
)d  than  nothing,  and  vanity.  David  and  Solomon, 
ebuchadnezzar  and  Cyrus,  and  Alfred  the  Great  and 
e  good,  were  wonderful  kings.  But  these  kings,  in 
I  their  glory,  and  in  all  their  powei*,  are  not  to  be 
•mpared  with  Christ ;  **  He  is  the  chiefe^t  among  ten 
ousand.''    Song  v.  10. 

It  is  my  earnest  wish  that  this  sermon  may  be  made 
(e^l  to  toy  young  friends.     May  the  things  about  to 
J  stated  respecting  Jesnft  as  the  "Kiivw  o^  ^\^x^.»>^^ 
ade  effectual,  by  the  influences  o€  tVve  'S.cA'^  ^^wVi^H^ 
king  you  the  /oving  and  tbe  \oya\  swV^^cXS*  ^'^^^^^ 
us!    It  is  this  I  wish  ;  it  ia  for  \\v\b  V  ^C^t-    ^"^ 


180  SERMON. 

are  you  to  show  your  loyalty  to  Christ  ?  Christ's  loyal 
subjects  love  him.  CHi,  may  you  love  him  with  all 
your  hearts !  Christ's  loyal  subjects  serve  him.  Majr 
you  serve  him  by  running  in  the  way  of  his  command* 
nients !  Christ's  loyal  subjects  pay  tribute  to  him. 
May  you  pay  to  Jesus  the  tribute  of  your  praise,  the 
tribute  of  your  influence,  and  the  tribute  of  your  sub- 
stance !  Prov.  iii.  9 :  "  Honour  the  Lord  with  your 
substance,  and  with  the  first-fruits  of  all  your  increase." 
There  is  a  glorious  day  approaching,  when  all  the  kings 
and  princes,  and  nations  of  the  earth,  shall  pay  their 
tribute  and  their  homage  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  the  King 
of  Peace  and  King  of  Glory. 


ft 


ft 


Behold  the  islands  with  their  kings, 
And  Europe  her  best  tribute  brings ; 
From  north  to  south  the  princes  meet, 
To  pay  their  homage  at  his  feet. 

There  Persia,  glorious  to  behold. 
And  India,  shine  in  eastern  gold ; 
And  barbarous  nations  at  his  word 
Submit,  and  bow,  and  own  their  Lord." 

By  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  I  shall  endea- 
vour to  show  in  what  respects  Jesus  is  the  King  of 
Glory. 

1st.  In  his  Kingdom.  Ps.  ciiL  19 :  "  The  Lord  hath 
prepared  his  throne  in  the  heavens ;  and  his  kingdom 
ruleth  over  all,"  Dan.  iv.  34 :  "  And  at  the  end  of 
the  days  I  Nebuchadnezzar  lifted  up  mine  eyes  unto 
heaven,  and  mine  understanding  returned  unto  me, 
and  I  blessed  the  Most  High,  and  I  praised  and 
Ikonoured  him  that  liveth  for  ever,  whose  dominion  is 
an  everlasting  dominion,  and  his  kingdoni  is  from 
generation  to  generation." 

The  Universe  is  his  kingdom.  What  is  the  universe? 

It  is  the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and 

the  stars.    What  an  astonishing  kingdom  is  this !  How 

great !     How  g\ov\o\ii\     TW  ^xQ?&te&t   kingdom  on 

earth,  compared  witAi  \\\\^  \^  w^i  \Ck«t^ >^\wxw  \j.  xs^kOss^ 

The  Church  is  liUkVw^^om-  'Y>kv^Vvj^^^^  ^^«^ 

Of  two  parts.    Oae  i^  t\i^  T?^^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^"^  •  ^ 


8EBMON.  181 

IB  called,  the  "Church  militant."  The  second  part 
consists  of  God's  blessed  saints  in  heaven  :  this  is 
called,  the  "  Charch  triumphant."  Over  this  kingdom 
Jesus  reigns.  For  this  kingdom  Jesus  died.  Important 
question — Do  we  belong  to  this  kingdom  ?  We  have 
a  blessed  prospect  before  us.  The  time  will  come  when 
all  the  nations  and  kingdoms  of  the  earth  shall  belong 
to  Christ's  kingdom,  the  Church.  "  Lord,  hasten  the 
blessed  day ! " 

"  Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  Fun 
Does  his  successive  journeys  run, 
His  kingdom  stretch  from  shore  to  shore, 
Till  suns  shall  rise  and  set  no  more." 

2d.  In  his  Throne,  Jesus  is  the  King  of  Glory. 
Jesus  does  not  fill  a  throne  in  the  literal  sense  in  which 
earthly  kings  fill  chairs  of  royalty,  called  thrones.  What 
then,  you  ask,  does  Christ's  throne  mean  ?  I  answer, 
it  signifies  his  authority.  His  authority  as  God,  and 
his  authority  as  God-man  Mediator. 

Isaiah  had  a  wonderful  vision  of  Christ's  glorious 
throne  in  heaven,  Isai.  vi.  1 .  He  says,  "  I  saw  also  the 
Lord  sitting  upon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted  \x\i,  and  his 
train  filled  the  temple."  John,  the  beloved  disciple, 
had  a  similar  vision.  Rev.  iv.  2,  3  :  "  And,  behold,  a 
throne  was  set  in  heaven,  and  one  sat  on  the  throne. 
And  there  was  a  rainbow  round  about  the  throne,  like 
unto  an  emerald."  Ver.  6 :  **  And  before  the  throne 
there  was  a  sea  of  glass  like  unto  crystal." 

Jesus  has  three  thrones  he  now  fills.     What  are 
they  ?     The  first  is  the  throne  of  universal  dominion. 
The  second  is  the  throne  of  grace :   this  is  placed  in 
the  midst  of  his  Church  on  earth.     The  third  is  his 
throne  of  glory :  this  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  glorified 
saints  in  heaven.     And  there  is  a  fourth  throne,  called 
the  throne  of  judgment :   he  shall  sit  down  on  this 
throne  at  the  last  day.     When  our  Saviour  was  on 
earth  in  his  humiliation,  he  thus  spaVie  o^  \Vi\^  \!»Kt«v»ft«, 
Matt  XXV.  31  :  "  When  the  Son  o£  nvaiv  ft\i«^  ^ovsNfc  \». 
^is  glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  wit^i  Vv\m,  \X\^xv  ^^^ 
lesit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory?'     Xq\x  wv^^^^^l^ 


182  SERMON. 

dear  jouno;  friend:?,  shall  see  Jesus  seated  on  that  judg- 
ment'throne.  We  shall  form  a  part  of  the  immense, 
the  innumerable  multitude.  Are  we  clothed  with  tlte 
righteousness  of  Christ  ?  Does  love  to  Jesus  dwell  in 
our  hearts  ?  We  are  then  prepared  for  that  day,  that 
solemn  daj.  God  mercifully  grant  that  this  may  be 
the  case  !  Affecting  thought !  to  appear  before  the 
Judge,  without  the  righteous  robe  \ 

Let  us  think  of  Jesus,  glorious  in  his  throne ;  and 
then  exclaim  in  holy,  loving  adoration, — 

*'  Thy  throne,  O  God,  for  ever  stands,  j 

Thy  word  of  grace  shall  prove 
A  peaceful  sceptre  in  thy  hands^ 
To  rule  thy  saiuts  hy  love." 

3d.  In  his  Crown^  Jesus  is  the  King*  of  Glory. 
We  must  not  imagine  that  Jesus  wears  upon  his  head 
a  crown,  as  earthly  kings.  What  we  said  of  the  throne 
may  also  be  said  of  the  crown.  It  is  an  emblem  of 
authority.  We  may  show  what  the  Bible  says  of 
Christ's  crown.  Ps.  cxxxii.  18:  "His  enemies  will  I 
clothe  with  shame :  but  upon  himself  shall  his  crown 
ilourish."  Two  things  of  a  very  delightful  kind  are 
here  intimated.  One  is,  the  prosperity  of  Christ's 
government.  When  we  look  upon  an  apple-tree  covered 
with  blossoms^  we  haye  an  (*mblem  <^  the  loveliness 
and  prosperity  of  Christ's  government.  In  the  verse 
we  luive  quoted,  the  continuance  of  Clirist's  government 
is  intimated.  His  crown  flourishes,  not  for  a  time,  hut 
for  ever.  It  is  a  canstcmi  flourishing.  How  emphatic 
the  wordsy '^shcUlflourisk  J^ 

John  had  a  glorious  vision  of  Christ  in  heaven, 
crowned  with  glory.  Rev.  xix.  11,  12:  "And  I  saw 
heaven  opened,  and  behold  a  white  horse ;  and  Ite  that 
sat  upon  him  was  called  Faithful  and  True.  His  eyes 
were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  on  his  head  were  numt^ 
cronms,^  This  shows  that  Jesus  reigns  overall  kingdoEis, 

and  nations,  and  wor\^    Ax%  :^^^^  ^aaidvoii  of  God? 

Then,  that  will  be  a\vw^^y,VKW5  ^«1>^''&w«x^^«fi«a 
lieaven,  and  see  Jeftus-wVl\v\ri^  ^*^  ."^^^ j!^!!^ 
J^ead,  sending  fon\i  T^T^  «i  ^\or,,\^^«  ^*— ^ 


SERMON.  183 

can   conceive !    Let  us  then  sing  witk  the  heart,  in 
ecstasies  of  adoring  joj, — 

"  All  h«il  the  power  of  Jesus'  name, 
Let  angels  prostrate  tall ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem. 
And  crown  him  Lord  of  all ! " 

4th.  In  his  Armies^  Jeaus  is  the  King  of  Glorj. 
Very  often  in  Scripture  our  Lord  is  called,  the  "  Loi'd 
of  JSosiSi^  that  is,  the  Lord  of  armies.  In  the  verse  con- 
taining our  text,  we  have  a  question,  and  an  answer.  The 
question  is,  "  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  ?'*  The  answer 
is,  "  The  Lord  of  Hosts,  he  is  the  King  of  Glory." 

Saints  and  angels  form  the  principal  part  of  Christ'^ 
army.  More  especially  on  earth,  saints  are  the  soldiera 
of  Christ.  They  are  engaged  in  fighting  the  "  good 
fight  of  faith.**  Their  hattle  is  finished  at  death.  Then 
they  exchange  their  armour  for  white  robes,  and  golden 
harps,  and  palms  of  victory.  Jacob  had  a  glorious, 
vision  of  angels  as  a  part  of  Christ's  army.  Gen.  xxxii. 
1,2:  "  And  Jacob  went  on  his  way,  and  the  angels  of 
God  met  him.  And  when  Jacob  saw  them,  he  said, 
This  is  God's  host:  and  he  called  the  name  of  that 
place  Mahanaim  ;"  that  is,  two  hosts.  To  see  an  army 
on  a  vast  plain  must  be  a  solemn  and  affecting  sight. 
Bat  how  wonderful  must  be  the  spectacle  to  see  Jesus, 
the  King  of  Glory,  in  the  heaven  of  heavens,  with  his 
noble  army  of  angels^  innumerable  like  the  stars.  When 
we  think  of  Jesus  as  the  King  of  Glory,  let  us  thiuk 
express  the  adoring  wonder  of  our  hearta: — 

"  Who  is  the  King  of  glory?  who? 
The  Lord  that  all  his  foes  overcame. 
The  world,  sin,  death,  and  hell  overthrew; 
And  Jesus  is  the  Conqa*ror*s  naine. 

"  Who  is  the  King  of  glory  1  who? 

The  Lord  of  boundless  power  possest ; 
Tha  King  of  saints  and  angels  too ; 
Clod  over  all,  for  ever  blest." 

5ih.  In  hi*  VictorieSy  Jesus  la  t>\^  ^vc\^"  ^'l  ^SSsssr^ , 
Observe  the  names  of  the  eiveKA^ft  v^V^  -srV^ov  "V^^ 
fought^  aud  then  see  the   greati^ibsa  oi  Xvva  ^^"^^^ 
iS£^  Sata^  the  world,  death,  the  %wse^«»^  '^ 


184     BLESSEDNESS  OF  DEPARTED  INFANTS. 

powers  of  hell ;  these  are  the  enemies  he  has  fought 
These  are  the  enemies  he  has  conquered.  See  then 
the  greatness  of  his  victories.  Thus  an  apostle  speaks 
of  the  splendour  of  his  great  and  glorious  victories ; 
Coloss.  ii.  15  :  "  And  having  spoiled  principalities  and 
powers,  he  made  a  show  of  them  openly,  triumphing 
over  them."  Heh.  ii.  14:  "Forasmuch  then  as  the 
children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  hlood,  he  also  him- 
self likewise  took  part  of  the  same ;  that  through  death 
he  might  destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, 
that  is,  the  devil." 

Jesus  has  still  great  victories  to  gain.  Pagan  ido- 
latry must  fall  before  him.  Mahometan  delusion  must 
fall  before  him.  The  superstition  and  error  of  corrupted 
churches  must  fall  before  him.  Atheism  and  infidelity 
must  fall  before  him.  Immorality,  and  vice,  and  crime 
must   fall   before   him.     "  Lord,   hasten  the   glorious 

day!" 

"  Gird  on  thy  sword,  victorious  King, 
Ride  with  majestic  sway ; 
Thy  terrors  shall  strike  through  thy  foes. 
And  make  the  world  obey."  A.  F. 


BLESSEDNESS  OF  DEPARTED  INFANTS. 

BT  THIS  REV.  T.  ORAIO,  OF  BOOKIirO. 

The  death  of  infants  reminds  ns  of  oar  relation  to  the  first 
man.    "  In  Adam  all  die.**    "  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the 
world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  men,  for 
that  all  have  sinned."    Infants  suffer  in  this  life  in  consequence 
of  Adam's  transgression.     The  second  death  is  denounced  in 
Scripture  against  those  who  sin  wilfully,  and  against  those  also 
who  reject  the  remedy  which  divine  grace  has  proposed  in  the 
CkMspel  of  Christ;  but  infants  are  neither  capable  of  wilful 
transgression,  nor  of  rejecting  the  Saviour.     We  are,  therefore, 
warranted  to  regard  their  death  as  a  proof  that  they  are  gra- 
ciously chosen  in  Christ  unto  eternal  life — ^to  be  partakers  of  the 
^iorlous  redemption  effected  by  the  Son  of  Ood,    although 
incapable  of  actually  \>e\\«^Vng  vn^ivau  ^\i^i  ^^  V^canse  Adun 
tinned,  they  live  becauae  Ckrv&X.  ^V^^  x.    x.  ^^ 

The  mind  is  essenUaW:^  di^XMieX.  ^m  S^!  ^lO-^^SLl^tL 


BLESSEDNESS  OF  DEPARTED  INFANTS.  185 

as  to  intelligence  and  power,  as  the  body  growB,  and  the  senses, 
the  inlets  to  the  soul,  are  exercised.  But  who  can  tell  what 
instantaneous  and  immeasurable  expansion  the  power  of  God  can 
^ive  to  the  soul  of  an  infant  as  soon  as  it  is  released  from  ha 
prison  of  clay — to  what  inconceivable  heights  of  knowledge  it 
may  rise,  what  ecstatic  feelings  it  may  enjoy,  and  in  what  elevated 
employments  it  may  be  occupied]  They  do  not  live  in  vain, 
however  brief  the  span  of  their  existence  here. 

They  do  not  live  in  vain  in  regard  to  themselves.  Did  they 
not  live,  they  could  not  enter  heaven  as  a  portion  of  the  re- 
deemed race  of  Adam,  to  possess  and  enjoy  for  ever  the  feelings 
of  the  most  exalted  gratitude  for  redeeming  love,  and  to  join  in 
the  anthem  of  salvation,  and  glory,  and  honour,  to  Him  who 
gitteth  on  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb.  Their  removal  is  no  act 
of  unkindness  on  the  part  of  God  towards  them.  The  Lord  of 
the  vineyard  transfers  these  tender  plants  to  a  more  genial  clime, 
where  they  are  sheltered  from  the  stormy  tempests  which  might 
have  come  upon  them.  Parents  naturally  indulge  the  fond  ex- 
pectation that  the  earthly  course  of  their  children  will  be  bright, 
happy,  and  useful ;  but  our  entire  ignorance  of  the  future  should 
be  a  powerful  motive  to  resignation  under  such  bereavements* 
We  know  not  from  what  evils,  physical  or  moral,  they  have  been 
taken.  Perfectly  safe,  and  for  ever  happy,  all  our  anxieties 
respecting  them  have  ceased — anxieties  which  might  have  con- 
tinued through  life,  and  come  upon  us  with  overwhelming  force 
on  our  dying-bed,  had  they  survived  us.  It  may  appear  to  us 
mysterious  that  Gtod  should  commission  death  to  snatch  the  sweet 
babe  from  the  fond  embraces  of  its  parents,  but  he  who  has  given 
the  order  makes  no  mistakes.  He  does  all  things  according  to 
the  counsel  of  his  own  will.  He  has  the  highest  and  best  reasons 
for  every  act  of  his  government.  They  are  founded  on  infallible 
wisdom,  and  never  at  variance,  in  the  least  degree,  with  his 
undeviating  rectitude  and  unchanging  goodness.  If  asked — 
**  Is  it  well  with  the  child  V*  one  answer  only  can  be  given — "It 
is  well." 

They  do  not  live  in  vain  in  regard  to  us,  nor  in  their  removal 
has  God  shown  any  unkindness  towards  us.  These  lovely  babes — 

" Are  angels  sent  on  errands  full  of  love. 

For  us  they  languish,  and  for  us  they  die.** 

Their  removal  is  intended  for  the  trial  of  our  faith  and  submission 
— ^whether  we  can  say  with  Job — "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !'*  and  with 
David — *'  I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  aU  times  /'*  They  are  not  lost. 
They  are  part  of  ourselves  gone  before  to  that  blessed  world  to 
which  every  Christian  is  travelling.  It  o\igJa.\.\.o\i^T«sgw^^ftL%si^%» 
great  honour  that  those  who  were  so  neaxV^  x^^aX.^^  \»<2>  ^^^  '^'J^ 
form  part  of  the  heavenly  assembly.    T\ie^  «tft  ^XVCi  ''^"^^™j2 

hj^  virtue  of  our  union  with  Him  '*  of  ^\iOixi  ^\ift  -wXi^A^i  ^^aw"? 

heaven  and  earth  is  named."     A.  tie  "wiAc^  \>o\3JidL  \»  \.o  \»s 


186  CONVERSION   OF   A  WICKED   BOT. 

ifl  severed,  but  there  is  a  new  attraction  to  draw  our  thoughts 
and  affections  to  heaven.  Consider,  therefore,  whose  hand  has 
done  this,  and  what  the  lesions  are  which  he  designs  thereby 
to  inculcate.  Spiritual  benefit  derived  from  afflictions  is  the 
most  supporting  cordial  under  them.  In  the  light  of  eternity 
we  shall  see  that  he  has  done  all  things  welL  We  ought  to 
honour  him  by  believing  this  now. 

While  the  child  lived,  David  fasted,  and  wept,  and  prayed^ 
but  when  it  died,  he  arose  from  his  mournings  and  addressed 
himself  to  the  active  duties  of  his  station,  observing,  **  Now  he 
is  dead,  wherefore  should  I  fast  "i  can  I  bring  him  back  again  1  I 
shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me."  Did  he  attempt 
to  console  himself  with  the  cold  comfort  of  merely  lying  down 
beside  the  ashes  of  his  son  in  the  unconsciousness  of  the 
grave  ]  No ;  as  a  pious  believer,  he  looked  forward  to  the  period 
when  he  should  join  the  redeemed  spirits  above,  and  recognise 
his  beloved  child  amongst  them.  Let  parents,  therefore,  uuder 
such  bereavements,  comfort  one  another  with  these  words — "  We 
sorrow  not  even  as  others  who  have  no  hope.  For  if  we  believe 
that  Jesus  died  and  rose  ag^in,  even  so  them  also  who  sleep  in 
Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him."  * 


REMARKABLE  CONVERSION  OP  A  WICKED  DISCON- 
TENTED BOY.    THE  STORM. 

There  was  a  wicked  boy  once  who  would  leave  his  Other's  home, 
and  go  to  sea.  His  kind  father  tried  to  persuade  him  not  to  go ; 
but  he  was  not  to  be  kept  away  from  the  sea.  The  reason  was^ 
he  thought  he  might  be  wicked  when  he  got  away  from  his  father, 
and  that  there  would  be  nobody  to  reprove  him.  His  weeping 
father  gave  him  a  Bible  as  he  went  away,  and  beg^d  him  to 
read  it.  The  boy  went  away,  and  became  very  wicked,  and  very 
profane.  But  Qod  saw  him.  There  was  a  great  storm  upon  the 
oeean.  The  ship  could  not  stand  against  it  She  struck  upon 
the  rocks  in  the  dark  night.  It  was  a  time  of  great  distress ; 
and  for  a  few  moments,  there  was  the  noise  of  the  captain  giving 
]^is  orders,  the  melancholy  waitings  of  the  poor  sailors  and  pas- 
sengers, who  expected  every  moment  to  be  drowned.  Then  this 
wicked  boy  wished  himself  at  home.  But  he  had  but  a  few 
moments ;  for  a  g^reat  wave  came  and  lifted  the  ship  up  high, 
and  then  it  fell  upon  another  rock,  and  was  broken  in  a  thou- 
auid  pieces.  Every  one  on  board  was  drowned,  except  this  same 
wicked  boy.  Through  the  merey  of  God,  he  was  washed  and 
carried  by  the  waves  upon  a  great  rock,  so  that  he  could  creep 
up,  thonglh  much  bruised,  and  almost  dead.  In  the  morning  he 
was  seen  sitting  on  a  toc\l,  ml\i  ^X^qc^l  vivVsS&W^d.    It  was  his 

*  Delivered  in  Bockmg  lle^\:\\i^  Uwj?ft,^wi.«L\'k\.A'^^^.  ^^ 
ihe  occasioa  of  the  biletinex^^.  o^  \X^^^e^Vfti^Vs&^N.%5A^^^ 

ibiid. 


RIYIEW8.  187 

the  only  thing,  except  his  own  life,  which  had  been  saved 
be  wreck.  He  opened  it,  and  there,  on  the  first  leaf,  was 
ndwriting  of  his  father.  He  thought  of  the  goodne&s  of 
ther,  and  of  hia  own  ingratitude ;  and  he  wept  Again  he 
I  the  book,  and  on  every  page  waa  the  handwriting  of  his 
Jy  Father ;  and  again  he  wept  at  the  remembrance  of  his 
;idnBt  God.  His  heart  was  broken ;  he  was  truly  penitent ; 
>m  that  hour  to  this,  he  has  lived  as  a  Christian.  He  is 
le  commander  of  a  large  ship,  and  seems  to  make  it  his 
)U8ine&8  to  honour  Jesus  Christ.    This  was  true  repentance. 


REVIEWS. 

tportant  Truths  in  Simple  Verse.    London :   Partridge  & 
Oakey,  Paternoster  Bow. 

hail  the  appearance  of  every  book  which  is  calculated  to 
le  the  intellectual,  moral  and  spiritual  improvement  of  the 

lAOB.  What  a  difference  betwixt  this  and  former  ages  in 
oks  prepared  for  juvenile  instruction  t  The  present  very 
leeds  all  which  have  gone  before,  not  only  in  the  quantity^ 
.  the  quality  of  those  productions  which  are  suited  to  the 

ettlture  of  the  youthful  mind.  The  author  of  the  little 
the  *'  ItbetVum,"  entitled  "  Important  Tkuths,"  &c.  occupies 
lonrable  place  among  those  who  employ  their  talents  and 
n  training  up  Christ's  liunbs  for  heaven  and  immortality. 
ah  him  "  Ood  speed  T  We  encourage  him  to  go  onward 
lorse  which  will  eminently  redound  to  God*s  glor}^  the  en- 
lent  of  Zion,  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 

selection  of  subjects  in  this  elegant  volume  is  most  appro- 
We  give  the  following  as  a  specimen.  Our  readers  will 
e  aee,  on  the  pemaal,  that  they  are  calculated  to  arrest  the 
ion,  excite  the  interest,  and  advance  "  in  winning  flowing 
}**  the  edification  of  the  youthful  mind.  We  select  but 
11  proportion  firom  the  whole,  amounting  to  eighty-two. 
^ing—Tlie  Captive  Bird — God  is  Love — T?ie  Churchyard 

0  you  Growl — Happiness — The  Helpless  Lamb — The 
,  a  Garden — Cruelty—  The  Looking-glass— Happy  Sunday 
!  Example  of  Christ — Jonah's  Gourd" 

1  following  lines  show  how  well  qualified  the  author  is  "  to 
the  rising  race  in  simple  verse." 

BOW  TCru  QROW  I 


it 


tt 


*  How  you  grow ! — how  you  grow  !' 
Every  body  tells  me  so ; 
Friends  and  relatives  all  say 
They  see  me  growing  ^^  \>^  ^a.^. 

'Tis  pleasant  thus  to  heat  ixoxa  t\\ 
That  I  am  growing  slo\x\i  scii^  ^^9 


188  REVIEWS. 

Bat  pleasanter  'twould  be  to  know 
That  I  am  growing  better  too. 

"  Does  my  budding  mind  improve. 
Knowledge,  truth,  and  goodness  loye  1 
Does  my  heart  enlaiged  contain 
Qreater  love  to  God  and  man] 

"  Do  I  grow  in  pure  delight 
Of  what  is  good,  and  true,  and  right  1 
Still  advance  in  pious  fear. 
And  make  God's  will  my  reverent  care  1 

"  Thus,  while  friends  their  praise  bestow. 
And  cry  in  wonder,  *  How  you  grow  !' 
I'll  ask  my  conscience,  as  I  should. 
Tell  me,  am  I  growing  good  ]'*  *  ^ 

II. — Rhymes  worth  Remembering.  For  the  Youn(,^  T.-idon: 
Partridge  &  Oakey,  PatemoBter  Bow. 
This  small,  neat,  and  elegantly  printed  bo<^;  by  the  author  of 
"  Important  Truths  in  Simple  verse,"  contains  all  the  excel- 
lences of  its  predecessor,  which  we  have  just  noticed.  It  will 
form  a  valuable  addition  to  a  "  Child's  Library."  It  has  all  that 
animating  and  refreshing  charm  to  the  mind  which  a  lovely 
nosegay,  sparkling  with  the  dew-drops  of  the  morning,  has  to  the 
Henses.  Dear  young  friends,  put  yourselves  in  possession  of  it 
without  delay.    We  give  the  following  verses  as  a  specimen  :— 

**  THB  BUD. 

"  Pbbttt  Bun,  in  you  I  see 
Much  that's  very  like  to  me ; 
And  from  your  instructive  look 
Learn  as  from  a  little  book. 

**  I  am  young,  and  so  are  you. 
Life  with  us  is  fresh  and  new ; 
Yet  fair  buds  oft  wither'd  Ue, 
And  the  youngest  children  die. 

"  Kiper  flowers  may  wide  expand. 
Win  the  eye  and  court  the  hand ; 
But,  like  you,  oh !  may  I  be 
Graced  with  humble  modesty. 

"  When  'tis  evening,  dark  and  chill, 
Close  you  wrap  yourself  from  ill ; 
So  may  God  my  heart  secure, 
Safe  from  every  thing  impure. 

"  And  as,  when  the  sun  is  up, 
Yon  Qxpasi'dL  '30\a\\\}^<&  co:^. 
So,  \>y  my  BAdL^essifei^  ^S^^Kft^