Gambar halaman
PDF
ePub

do we become of his infinite kindness, and the more do we find we have to excite our gratitude and praise. But I have been thinking lately very much of one blessing which is truly precious, but which I fear is not sufficiently valued. I wonder if you, the bright-eyed, happy little ones who read these lines, have ever thought particularly about it? I am sure that many, perhaps all of you, have this blessing; but I know, too, multitudes of little children that do not have it, and I pity them. They may have abundance of comfortable food and clothing; pleasant homes and everything needful for the body; they may have kind parents and loving friends to take care of them; they may have beautiful toys and playthings, and story-books without number, with everything they could wish for their amusement; and yet if they have not this one blessing, I pity them.

But what can it be, you ask, that is worth so much more than money, and clothing, and kind friends, and books? I will tell you, dear children: I mean the blessing of religious parents who pray for you. Ah! little know you now, in the careless gaiety of your childhood, how rich a treasure you hold in your parents' prayers for you. Every day, as the dear ones of the household gather around the family altar, are Heaven's choicest blessings invoked upon you. Many a time, as you have laid your weary head upon the pillow, has your kind mother knelt by your side and asked God to keep, and guide, and bless you, as she, even in the fulness of her love, has not the power to do. If you have been ill, how earnestly have your parents prayed for your recovery to health! If absent from home, how fervently have they commended you to God's protection! And many, many a time, that neither you nor I can tell; perhaps in the still night when nearly every human sound was hushed; perhaps when you were in circumstances of trial, or temptation, or danger, has that Great Being," who neither slumbers nor sleeps," listened to the supplication of your parents in your behalf!

A few years ago, when Dr. Judson was in the United States, some one asked his little daughter, who accompanied him, "if she was not afraid when coming over the. great ocean to America?" "Why, no," said she; "father prayed for us." How sweet the sense of safety and protection that this little girl felt, even amid the dangers of a long voyage, believing so heartily

as she did, that God would hear her father's prayers, and take care of them all the way! She felt the blessing of a praying father, and when, recently, she received the sad news of his death, do you not believe that while she mourned the loss of so excellent a parent, she also grieved for the loss of his prayers?

Let me tell you of a little boy, about eleven years old, whose parents have sought to train him up in the fear of God. For several years his father (the late Rev. H. A. Graves) was an invalid, and was obliged to seek a milder climate, where the air is softer and warmer than it is here. The change was beneficial, and for a time his disease was stayed; but a few months ago he became more ill; his strength failed, his frame grew weaker day by day, and it was very plain that he would soon die. About midnight, a few Saturdays ago, his wife was reading to him an account of a wicked man who attempted to steal money from a bank, and was shot. As she read she spoke of their own dear Charley, who would soon be left fatherless, and for that reason the more exposed to those temptations that crowd so thickly the path of the young. The father lifted an earnest prayer for his little son: "Lord, keep him! Lord, bless him!" and in an hour after, just as the Sabbath dawned on earth, his soul ascended to heaven, and he entered his eternal rest. These earnest petitions were the last words of that dying father, and in the circumstances of that hour, how full of meaning! "Lord, keep him!" From what, think you, children, did he desire God should " "keep" his beloved child? There are many painful and distressing things which every parent wishes his children should escape; but is not sin the greatest of all evils? It was from that, in its thousand forms, that this christian father, in the last words he had breath to speak, prayed that Charley might be preserved; from the sin of his own natural heart,-from the corrupting influences of ungodly associates, from the snares and allurements of those deceitful. pleasures which the world offers. And that other petition, "Lord, bless him!" Oh, how full of the tenderest affection was his heart, as he uttered this prayer! How do you think he desired God to "bless" his son? With wealth that should bring him luxury, and ease, and splendour? With a noble name that every lip should praise? With rare mental gifts that should have the power

to move at will thousands of minds and hearts? No-no, not these, but better, purer, richer gifts, by far, did he implore. A heart reconciled to God in Jesus Christ, loving to render Him a service of obedience, and faith, and reverence,-oh, is not this the best of blessings? And thus did that fond father pray that Charley might be blessed. What richer legacy could he receive than such prayers, uttered just before his father entered that holy, happy home in heaven that he so loved to anticipate? Happy child though many hearts weep with him and for him, so early bereaved, yet we too find solace in commending him to God to "keep " and to "bless."

Dear children, are you not grateful, that your father and mother, besides being so good and kind and affectionate, also pray for you? Will you not, henceforth, love them more, and strive, each of you, to become a better child? You know not how long they may live to watch over you. The little girl and the little boy, of whom I have told you, are now both fatherless. Will you not, with all your hearts, thank God, "the Giver of every good and perfect gift," that your parents pray for you, and ask Him to help you to become all that they desire?

A MOTHER'S LEGACY.

I was five years old when my mother died; but her image is as distinct to my recollection, now that twelve years have elapsed, as it was at the time of her death. I remember her as a pale, gentle being, with a smile and a voice that was soft and cheerful when she praised me; and when I erred-for I was a wild, thoughtless childthere was a trembling mildness about it that always went to my heart. And then she was so kind, so patient; I can now see her large blue eyes moist with sorrow, because of my waywardness, and hear her repeat, "My child, how can you grieve me so?" I recollect that she had for a long time been pale and feeble, and that sometimes there would come a bright spot on her cheek, which made her look so lovely that I thought she must be well. But then she sometimes spoke of dying, and pressed me to her bosom, and told me to be good when she was gone, and to love my father a great deal, and be kind to him, for he would have no one else to love. I recollect she was one day very sick, and my little hobbyhorse and whip were laid aside, and I tried to be quiet. I did not see her for the whole

But I

day, and it seemed very long. At night they told me my mother was too sick to kiss me, as she always used to do, before I went to bed, and I must go without it. could not. I stole into the room, and, laying my lips close to hers, whispered "Mother, mother, won't you kiss me?" Her lips were very cold; and when she put her arms around me, laid my head upon her bosom, and one hand upon my cheek, I felt a cold shudder creep all over me. My father carried me from the room, but he could not speak. After they put me in bed, I lay a long while thinking. I feared my mother would indeed die, for her cheek felt as cold as my little sister's when she died. But the impressions of mortality are always indistinct in childhood, and I soon fell asleep. In the morning I hastened to my mother's room. A white napkin covered her face. I removed it; it was just as I feared. Her eyes were closed; her cheek was cold and hard; and only the lovely expression that always rested on her lips remained. In an instant all the little faults for which she had so often reproved me rushed upon my mind. I longed to tell her how good I would always be, if she would remain with me.

She was buried; but my remembrance of the funeral always remained indistinct. I only entertained the impressions which her precepts and example left upon my mind. I was a passionate, headstrong boy; but I never yielded to this turn of my disposition without fancying I saw her mild eye fixed upon me, just as she used to do in life.

My whole character underwent a change, even from the moment of her death. Her spirit was forever with me, strengthening my good resolutions, and weakening my propensity to do evil. I felt that it would grieve her gentle spirit to see me err, and I could not, would not, do it. I was the child of her affection; I knew she had prayed and wept over me, and that even on the threshold of eternity her affection for me had caused her gentle spirit to linger, that she might pray for me once more. I resolved to become all that she could desire.

This

I have never forgotten. It helped me to subdue the waywardness of childhood, protected me during the temptations of youth, and will comfort and support me through the busier scenes of manhood. Whatever there is that is estimable in my character r owe to the impressions of goodness made upon my infant mind by the exemplary conduct and faithful instructions of my excellent mother.

MR. LEWIS SMITH,

OF ALDW INKLE.

Obituary.

The subject of this short notice was brought to Jesus under the ministry of the late Dr. Haweis, who for many years was rector of All Saints' in this place, and whose name was fondly cherished by him, as it is by many of the aged at Aldwinkle and surrounding villages, who received good under him. The death of this excellent clergyman may be said to have occasioned the Baptist interest in this place; for the gospel departing out of All Saints' with him, those who had felt its power, could not be satisfied with "another gospel, which is not another," but no gospel: and hence a number of them united separately for worship, and at length formed themselves into a church, and in the year 1823 the present Baptist chapel was erected, in which God had owned his word to the conversion of many souls, and where He still has a people to "shew forth His praise." The departed had, for many years, been a member with them, and his conduct had been consistent. He had never been married, and when a youth, lost one of his legs, and often complained of bodily weakness and depression of spirits. He much resembled Bunyan's Mr. FeebleMind, and Mr. Ready-to-Halt; though it was equally evident that "the root of the matter was in him." He was "an old disciple," though one of those doubting disciples, who could but seldom appropriate the promises to his own use, and was often saying, "Oh! that I knew where I might find him!" Jesus he loved, and deplored his absence. "I want to see him,-I want to feel the shining of his face, but I cannot find him!" I have frequently endeavoured to disperse his doubts, though almost in vain. He certainly was humble-minded, and felt his unworthiness before God,-a sure sign of peace. It may be truly said of him, that he was one of those "who, through fear of death, are all their life subject to bondage." "What shall I do in the swellings of Jordan ?" many a time he was heard to say, through this fear of death, when the writer and others have endeavoured to direct him to the promises of a faithful God. Well, he has passed through the swellings of Jordan, and the writer saw

him pass through; and, certainly, the tide did not seem to be high, nor the waters rough:-God was better to his aged servant than all his fears.

The Saturday preceding his death, which occurred on the 23rd of December, I was pleased to find him calm, and, to my surprise, all but confident of his hope of acceptance, through Christ Jesus. Yes, now he could trust,-now he could believe, not only that "God is love," but that His love was manifested to him,-not only that there is "an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure," but that he was interested in its blessings. On the next day, the Lord's-day, I saw him for a few minutes, but did not suppose him to be so near to eternity, when his mind was calm, and he spoke of himself as a sinner, and of the grace of God in the salvation of the sinner, and of his reliance on the Lord Jesus alone for his salvation, repeating, as well as he could, in a low, broken voice, several passages of Scripture, such as, "Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" and several appropriate verses of hymns, as,

"Nothing in my haud I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress,
Helpless, look to Thee for grace,
Black, I to the Fountain fly ;-
Wash me, Saviour, or I die!"

During the night—his last night-he was much in prayer, and on the coming morning, prayed earnestly to the Lord, as raised up in the bed, and said, "Why are his chariot wheels so long in coming?" Ah! that chariot was nearer than he supposed; and ere the clock struck twelve, behold, the chariot arrived, conducted by angelic charioteers, who, softly placing him therein, escorted him up to the mansions, prepared by Jesus for all christian pilgrims; and we doubt not but this doubting christian was welcomed, by those who had gone before, "into the joy of his Lord!" It is remarkable, that nearly the last words he uttered, were those of Simeon: "Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace: for mine eyes have seen thy salvation!" Thus there was light at even-time,—thus faith triumphed at last in the trying hour! And let this fact afford encouragement to

those desponding christians who are left behind, let them hope in God, nor doubt "his faithfulness and pow'r,

To help them in the trying hour!"'

His death was improved by his pastor, from the words of dying Jacob: "I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord!"

Miscellaneous.

THE IMPORTANCE OF THE MEANS OF GRACE. Give all diligence in the use of the means of grace, if you desire a flourishing state of soul. They are the divinely appointed channels of conveyance from the Fountain. They are the tributary streams from the Great Ocean. You cannot possibly maintain a healthy, vigorous state of the inner life, without them. You cannot neglect, with impunity, private prayer, meditation, and self-examination; or public ordinances, the ministry of the word,the services of the sanctuary, the assemblies of the saints. A slight thrown upon these must entail a severe loss to your soul. Some professors can go from Sabbath to Sabbath, plunged in worldliness, or eager in the pursuit of gain, in total neglect of the social prayer-meeting, or of the weekly lecture,-those needed rests and hallowed pauses in the way,-as if there were no such appointments. These are among the things which weaken the hands, and discourage the heart, and hinder the usefulness, of the faithful pastor. But a more painful calamity even than this, is the dryness, deadness, and barrenness, which this neglect brings into their own souls. It would seem as if this were the punishment of their sin. They turn their backs upon God, and God turns his back upon them. They neglect to make the pool, and he withholds the rain that fills it. But, christian professors, this must not be! The well must be digged, the water must be searched for. We are told that "Isaac's servants digged in the valley, and found there a well of springing water," or, as the margin renders it, "a well of living water." And he is pronounced a blessed man, "who, passing through the Valley of Baca, makes it a well; the rain also filleth the pools." It is in this way, a diligent, prayerful waiting upon the means, that " he goes from strength to strength, until he appears before God." Oh, dig for this precious water! Search, oh, search for this living grace! Make the pool, and trust the faithfulness and loving kindness of God to fill it with "the early and the latter rain." No man shall wait upon the Lord in vain. "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength." They who plough deeply the fallow ground, and in its furrows sow the precious seed, shall not lack the Holy Spirit's descending influence, in silent dew by night, and in copious showers by day, to quicken and to fructify it. Only honour the God of grace in all the means of grace, and God will honour you by imparting to you all grace

through the means.

"The diligent soul

shall be made fat."-0. Winslow.

THE BOOK OF WONDERS.-O thou Bible! holy book of wonders! what more can we need, when He who bears "the key of David," opens to us thy treasures? Where is the darkness which thy light will not dispel? where is the emptiness which thy tree of life will not satisfy? where the thirst which thy living streams will not quench? where the mountains which cannot be ascended, when we have with us thy rod and staff? O Word of God! sent from heaven, who can estimate the fulness of that service of love which thou hast wrought for us? We seek after God,thou unveilest to us his face. We desire to know his will,-thou discoverest to us his law, with its thunders and lightnings. Terrified by the voice from Sinai, we enquire into the state of our hearts,-thou disclosest to us their most secret depths. We sink under the heavy load of our sins,-thou showest to us the sentence of condemnation torn asunder, and nailed to the Saviour's cross. We tremble to find that we are naked in the presence of a holy God,-thou tellest us of the spotless righteousness of Immanuel, and sayest gently, "Go in peace." We fear, lest we should not walk worthy of our calling,-thou sayest to us, "Take courage; for Christ is made of God unto you wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption." We tremble before the enemy who would fain swallow us up,-again thou raisest our heads: "The lion of the tribe of Judah hath conquered; take courage." Trouble surrounds us,-thou liftest us out of the abyss: see, it was the chastisement of love. We are left alone,-thou directest us to a friendly bosom, where all tears are wiped away. The path of our pilgrimage is dark and gloomy, thou givest us the wings of hope, so that we may fly away over this world's mountains. The day of our life is coming to a close, the evening is drawing nigh,thou openest to us a window that looks to the east, and behold, we see in the distance the glorious lights of our own eternal home, and oh, what a house! O Word of Life! treasure of salvation! without equal; which makes our poverty rich, our weakness strong; gilding with heavenly light the shades of our earthly pilgrimage; let us kiss thee with kisses of love,-let us cover thee with tears of joy!-Krummacher.

HOLINESS OF HEAVEN.-How vain must be our hope for entering into heaven, if we

have no present delight in what are said to be it's joys. A christian finds his happiness in holiness. When he looks forward to heaven, it is the holiness of the scene and association on which he fastens as affording its happiness. He is not in love with an Arcadian paradise, with the green pastures, the flowing waters, and the minstrelsy of many harpers. He is not dreaming of a bright island, where he shall meet his buried kindred, renew domestic charities, and again live human life, in all but its cares, and tears, and partings. "Be ye

holy, for I am holy,"-this is the precept, attempted conformity to which is the business of a christian's life on earth,-perfect conformity to which shall be the blessedness of heaven. Let us take heed that we deceive not ourselves. The apostle speaks of "tasting the powers of the world to come," as though heaven were to begin on this side the grave. We may be enamoured of heaven, because we think that "there the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." We may be enchanted with the poetry of its descriptions, and fascinated by the brilliancy of its colourings, as the Evangelist John relates his visions, and sketches the scenery on which he was privileged to gaze. But all this does not prove us on the high road to heaven. If it.

be heaven toward which we journey, it will be holiness in which we delight; for if we cannot now rejoice in having God for our portion, where is our meetness for a world in which God is to be all in all, for ever and for ever?-Melville.

WHERE SHALL I PRAY?-A christian sustains a personal relation to God, has personal wants, sins, and obligations, and feels it, therefore, both his duty and his privilege to go and speak to God alone. To this he is enjoined by the highest authority; "But thou, when thou prayest," says Christ, "enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly" (Matt. vi. 6). The word "CLOSET" in the original, signifies chamber, warehouse, or even cellar; in short, any secret place; and some suppose our Lord designedly employed a word of such latitude, that none might omit prayer under pretence that they had not a proper place to which to retire. Place is nothing, disposition in prayer is everything. "I will" said the apostle, "that men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands." Blessed privilege! there is no place in which it is suitable for a christian to be found, in which it is unsuitable for him to pray.-J. A. James.

THE PAPAL MOVEMENT.

Entelligence.

Most of our readers are already aware, that the Parliament was opened by the Queen on Tuesday, Feb. 4th. One of the first questions that has come under discussion, is the recent Papal movement, and the steps which shall be taken by the legislature in reference to it. At the time we write, nothing further has been done than that Lord John Russell, after several nights' debate, has formally" obtained leave to bring in a bill," the purport of which appears to be, that no Roman Catholic Bishop shall be permitted to use a title connecting him with any district in the United Kingdom; and that any property bequeathed to such Bishop, under such title, shall revert to the Crown.

The measure is exactly what all men of sense expected-too insignificant to satisfy the excited, yet irritating enough to disquiet Ireland. The measure is chiefly designed to please those greatest obstructors of the nation's interests, the Bishops of the Church of England,-to secure their titles from ecclesiastical disparagement. It can but very partially do even this. If Catholic Bishops do not assume the titles, others will give them. As to the part touching bequests, we could almost wish that the endowment of religious institutions

was prohibited to all sects, as sects. The proceedings of the Wesleyan Conference (which we think, considering the light enjoyed by English Protestants, as bad as Popery itself) could never have been dreamed of, but for the power conferred by the chapel property vested in Conference. Thus far it may be difficult to say that Government has overstepped its providence. Territorial titles, possibly, and accumulations of money in the hands of corporate bodies, lay or ecclesiastical, certainly are proper subjects of Government control. The error is in allowing a Queen to confer territorial titles in a church of Christ, and in limiting the pecuniary prohibition to Catholics more than other sects; this appears to partake of persecution. The safe course would have been to rely on moral and religious means exclusively, and in dealing with Government, as Dissenters, to have attacked its own practical assumption of Papal powers in our semi-Popish State- Church.

Just as we go to press, we learn that Lord John Russell's Ministry has resigned: probably, therefore, the present measure on the Papal question will be proceeded with no further. What ministry may succeed, and what measures they will propose, remains yet to be seen: possibly it may be known to our readers before the present number reaches them.

« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »