Gambar halaman
PDF
ePub

era.

The

one hundred and two, and the other to one thousand | four hundred and ninety-one years before the Christian These are linked together by the mean movements of the sun, moon, and planets, so that one of In fact, if we the epochs is necessarily fictitious. assume for our point of departure the epoch one thousand four hundred and ninety-one, and go back by means of the Indian tables to the year three thousand one hundred and two before the Christian era, we obtain a general conjunction of the sun, moon, and planets, as these tables suppose; but this conjunction differs too much from the result of our best tables ever to have taken place, demonstrating that the epoch to which it refers is not grounded on observation. tables altogether, and particularly the impossibility of the conjunction which they suppose at the same epoch, prove, on the contrary, that they have been constructed, or at least rectified, in modern times." This opinion of Laplace is confirmed by another authority of equal importance, namely, by that of Baron Cuvier. He "It is well known that M. Bailly, thinking that the epoch which is used as a period of departure in some of the Indian astronomical tables had been really observed, has attempted thence to deduce a proof of the remote antiquity of this science among that people, or, at least, in that nation which bequeathed its knowledge to them. But the whole of this system, so laboriously conceived, falls to the ground of itself, now that it is proved that this epoch was subsequently adopted on calculations made backwards, and the result of which was incorrect.'

says,

M. Bentley, another Frencnman, has gone even farther into the examination of these pretended ancient documents of Bailly and Playfair, and has demonstrated that instead of reaching to a period three thousand one hundred and two years before Christ, or, as Playfair coolly remarks, perhaps one thousand or one thousand two hundred years earlier, that the tables on which their assertions are chiefly founded, must have been calculated about one thousand two hundred and eighty one after Christ, or only five hundred and forty years since; and that the Surya Sidhanta, which the Brahmins regard as their most ancient and scientific treatise on astronomy, and which they pretend was revealed more than "twenty millions of years ago," could not have been composed till about seven hundred and sixty years since. The testimony of the celebrated M. Delambre is also equally decisive on this point. He ridicules the idea of the antiquity of these tables, and proves that they have been fabricated in modern times. His remarks on M. Bailly, their patron and commentator, are not of a flattering nature. After successfully exposing the cheat, he remarks, "if we be allowed to hazard a conjecture, we would say, that Bailly never writes but to prop a system framed before hand; that he glances slightly over the writings of the ancients, reading them in bad translations, and that he runs over all the calculations, in order to pick out obscure passages which may lend some countenance to his ideas." It has been remarked, that the throwing up of a feather sometimes "shows how the wind blows." The following fact, which is in itself a trifle, will show the Albent or tendency of Professor Playfair's mind. though so acute and sharp-sighted in all that regards the existence of any thing doubtful in the evidences which may be adduced in support of the truths of revelation, yet he seems to have been quite blinded to any defects in his favourite Indian tables; for Delambre clearly demonstrates, that the Professor has not taken the trouble to calculate these tables anew, "he has not had the discernment to perceive the error of the division 225, substituted for the true divisor 235.5." Thus, then, stands the matter at present, these tables are evidently of comparatively modern date, the remote and fictitious epoch of Caly-youg, or misfortune, was

[ocr errors]

adopted, in the first place, from national vanity; and, secondly, that they might make all the planets start from one point, they did not wish for written tables, they wanted numbers which could be put into technical verses, even into songs, so that the calculations might be performed without writing a book,-something like the school-boy rhymes for remembering the days of the month,

"Thirty days hath September,

April, June, and November," &c.

Or the lines of the juvenile chronologist for finding out the dominical letter for the first day of the month,"At Dover dwell George Brown, Esquire, Good Christopher Finch, and David Frier." Thus vanishes at the touch of truth, one of the most famous and specious systems of infidelity which has been reared in modern times; and thus docs the "pure and unbroken light, which is free from the false-colouring of vanity and superstition," prove to be no light at all, except in so far as it received a colouring from the Professor's own pen, who seems to have had vanity enough to suppose that the superstitions of modern Hindoos would overturn, by his assistance, the ancient and inspired writings of Moses. And it is worthy of remark, that the truth was ultimately disclosed, not by the guardians of religion, but by those who were searching for truth solely in honour of the science; and some of them, no doubt, would rather that the error had fallen against Moses than against the Indian tables.

LOVE TO THE BRETHREN.
BY THE REV. WILLIAM OLIVER,
Minister of the Presbyterian Church, Dunluce, Ireland.
No. VI.

ACTIONS THAT RESULT FROM IT.

1. THE first and most important act that results from There love to Christians, is prayer on their behalf. are some who affect to despise the propriety of prayer at all; some question its efficacy when not presented on account of our own proper and personal wants; and others conceive that Christians stand little in need of intercessory prayer. With the first opinion, it is hardly necessary to intermeddle. The objections urged against prayer, are drawn either from human presumption, or the dogmas of superficial philosophy, which pure philosophy is neither backward nor impotent to set aside. However we may speculate upon God's inflexible character, upon his original infallible determination of all events, upon the stability of his divine decree, yet, if we believe that prayer forms an element of that decree, neglect or disapproval will appear a vain attempt to set aside his immutable arrangement. Besides, to any mind that cordially receives the Scriptures as a guide of life, a model of faith, and a rule of duty, the objections to prayer will savour highly of infidelity, and the difficulty which some pretend to feel, of adjusting it in the scale of the Almighty's dispensations, will appear a daring charge upon his wisdom and truth-of his wisdom in introducing a principle at variance with the basis of his constitution, and of his truth, in declaring that to be essential, which presumptuous science declares to be nugatory and vain.

The second shade of opinion, that intercessory prayers are necessarily unavailing, partakes so much of selfishness, that religion cannot countenance it, and breathes so little of benevolence, that it is instantly dissipated by the power of Christian affection. Of all

kinds of petitions, a disinterested one is most commendable. It arises from the purest principle, and it is directed to the noblest end. It assimilates us to the perfect pattern of the Redeemer, who in the days of his flesh interceded for his disciples; and now that he is exalted to God's right hand, "he ever liveth to make intercession for us." It is a form of worship that exerts a salutary influence upon our own minds; and it is a mode of entreaty most likely to assail with acceptance the gates of heaven. Paul exhorted his disciples to pray for him. He everywhere recommends this amiable, this tender, this catholic spirit, to pray for all saints. And that his conduct might not impede his counsel, nor his act his exhortation, he feelingly interceded for all his disciples, of which his language to the Thessalonians is an abundant evidence: "Wherefore, also we pray always for you, that our God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfil all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power." 2. Thess. i. 11. The utterance of this prayer was dictated alike by the ample encouragement of God, that the fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much, and by the ardent affection he entertained for them. Surely his love could not flow in a more effective channel, than in commending them to the grace of God that could alone preserve them from falling. Surely he could give no stronger proof of his attachment, than such intense breathing after their spiritual welfare. And surely he could exhibit no clearer demonstration of his love, of his boundless desire that the Word might have a permanent influence, that the Gospel might come to them in spirit and in power, that their souls might be washed in the blood of Christ, and rendered partakers, both here and hereafter, of the unspeakable benefits of redemption, than this feeling petition wafted to the hill of Zion, laid upon the altar of mercy, invested with ardour, sprinkled with tears, recommending them to the goodness of Him, who could carry his designs of grace into execution.

And oh how baseless is the plea, that Christians do not need our prayers! This sentiment is assumed merely as an excuse for apathy, a cloak for carelessness. Let any one look impartially at the temptations that surround them, the changes of mind, confidence, and inclination, of which they are susceptible, the unmitigated and unrelenting opposition they meet with from the world, the dangers and discouragements they experience on the way, their exposure to calumny, the conflicting warfare they sustain, the treacherous enemies that assail without, and allure within, the difficulty of rising up to heaven and laying hold upon eternal life, and nothing will be necessary but the affecting picture to excite earnest solicitation and importunity on their behalf. Knock after knock will be repeated at the door of mercy. Wail after wail will loudly ascend to God, as we behold those who are our own flesh and blood likely to sink or fall. Prayer will be heaped upon the back of prayer, sigh upon the head of sigh; a strong plea will be founded upon his own matchless and unmerited love; and the whole heart will be poured before him in supplication, that he would not relinquish his chosen ones, or overlook the perilous situation of his own precious redeemed. Away with the dogmas of a presumptuous philosophy, and the cool calculating prudence of a narrow mind. Show

us the man whose prayers are uncontracted, who, while he is conscious of his own wants, is feelingly alive to the necessities of others. Show us the Christian, who, in an adequate frame, and with fervent desire, prays for the church universal, for every believer who is one with Christ, who is washed in his blood, and sanctified by his spirit; and of him we declare his heart is touched, he is possessed of love to the brethren, and he carries it out into its holiest and most legitimate exercise. 2. Next to prayer, love will induce us to impart advice. It implies a sickly state of mind, little interest in the brethren's welfare, to see them rush heedlessly into danger without uplifting the trump of admonition, and sounding an alarm. Than this, we believe, there is no generous action so generally shunned, so unwarrantably neglected. The uncharitable sentiment of Cain, "am I my brother's keeper," has worn too deep a channel, and exerted too powerful a control both over the converted and unconverted. Laxity in imparting counsel is, alas! too prevalent; and advice, if occasionally given, partakes, we fear, of too light, too flimsy, too superficial a texture. It wants that solidity and strength, that warmth and earnestness required to clothe it with weight, and invest it with influence. There is an absence of special pleading to bear it down upon the soul. Many are haunted with the ghostly imagination, that they are bound to afford advice, to warn their brethren to abstain from sin. Under this impression, they insinuate modestly, and with becoming diffidence, that their actions are not exactly such as they ought to be, and that some slight alteration might perhaps be necessary. Having discharged this task, they feel more at ease, they have removed in imagination the load of criminality from their souls. Others consider it highly injudicious, extremely uncourteous, calculated to irritate, and not to soothe, at variance with every principle of correct manners, to probe the ulcer, and lay open the inherent pollution. Few possess the moral courage, or the unfeigned love, or the Christian integrity, to aver the truth, and warn backsliders, on the peril of their souls, "to abstain from all appearance of evil," and "to hate even the garment spotted by the flesh." Diffidence or dishonesty hinders us from showing to Israel their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins. Now we ask, is this consistency of character, zeal for the Redeemer's glory, candour to immortal souls, or affectionate love for the brethren? If the memorable expression of Henry IV. to the Duke of Sully be true," the moment you do not contradict me in those things which I well know to be disagreeable to your taste, that instant I will believe you no longer love me;" Christians will have little approbation, and less thanks for the cool phlegmatic manner in which the brethren's faults are overlooked. Every candid mind will be grateful for imparted counsel. The receipt of it will prove a warning to chastise, and a sure testimony of the author's affection.

3. Love will induce believers to encourage one another. Few are thoroughly aware of the comfort required in our passage through this vale of tears; and few are consequently alive to the great duty of kindly affording encouragement and consolation. The believer, like the emancipated Israelites, feels himself encompassed with many difficulties, and he requires the hand

There the sweets of love will breathe and burn. There its expansive power will know no limits. There Christians shall be all united; their hearts one, their actions one. And there the waters of affection will be tasted, free from bitterness, pure, sacred, and without alloy.

CHRISTIAN TREASURY.

of a Moses to lead him on. Like them, his march is | Never, but in heaven.
often impeded, especially at the outset, with seas of
indignation rolling before, with mountains of despair
lifting their barren tops to Heaven, and barring his
escape upon every side, and with ruthless enemies pur-
suing hard behind, so that he dare not rush back into
the lion's mouth, or fall again into the deep pit, from
which he has been digged. After these difficulties
have been surmounted, these terrors evaded, and these
enemies subdued, a broad, an arid, and a barren wilder-
ness stretches in view, parched with all the drought,
associated with all the dangers, and interwoven with
all the fatigues of a barbarous and uncongenial clime.
Here, a standard more deadly approaches than the ban-
ners of Amalek; there, an influence more powerful
than the wand of the soothsayer of Moab. Here, the
stings of a fiery flying serpent affright and terrify;
there, spiritual famine anticipates his footsteps and
tracks his way. Now, there is extreme scarcity of the
fountain of living water; and anon, the law of Horeb

thunders in his hearing. On all hands, from without
and from within, he meets with great opposition, and
he complains of great terror and dismay. Frequent
despondence, a total disrelish for the land over which
he travels, occasional tempests from above, and violent
assaults from human and satanic foes, fill the cup of
his affliction, and cause the drops to overflow. Oh
the heart that is not moved to pity, and does not hasten
to open up streams of consolation; the heart that will
not blend encouragement with its tears; the heart that
will not draw from the repository of Divine grace a
healing balm for every bleeding wound; the heart that
will not point to a fountain of strength, free and inex-
haustible, has not been touched with love, acquainted
with the brethren's wants, excited by their misery, or
groaned over their deep affliction.

|

Corruptions of the human heart.-A lesson the husbandman learns in his garden is, from the inside therein. He finds a little garden hath many weeds, many kinds, and many of every kind; and they come up without planting, and spring much faster than herb or flower. He sees, if care be not taken, they will overtop the flowers and herbs, and that it will cost both observation and industry to pluck them up; and when at length the garden is quit of them, and is clean and fair, yet they will peep up, and spring again, and renew his trouble over again, and the endless business he hath with it: only the winter helps him, and pinches these weeds at the roots; but yet in the spring they revive again, and give him the same trouble he had the year before. And this teaches him the difficulty of a clean heart, and the industrious life of a serious Christian. He finds his garden within as bad as his garden without. What variety of sinful motions and affections are rising there! How speedily have some lusts got a-head! His pride has sprung faster than his humility by the half. His passion is at a great height in comparison of his patience. He wonders at the strange growth of his corruptions. He concludes, that without a speedy and effectual course his garden will be a wilderness; and therefore be awakens watchfulness, and falls to serious mortification, repentance, and reformation of his spiritual estate; he gets to his knees, prays, and weeps over his evil desires, pursues them into every corner, and at length hath a clean heart erected in him, and hopes now all is well, and that the old man is dead and gone; but ere long he descries that he was but asleep: this corruption returns, and exercises him in the same way as before; till some happy affliction comes, and that, with the blessing of God, doth break the dominion of sin, and death at length puts an end to this weary life. Faith is a rose that grows between two nettles-pre

Lastly, Love will move to aid. Encouragement, prayer, and admonition, are all powerful auxiliaries, which no genuine Christian will fail to offer; yet there is additional help required, which no generous Chris-sumption and despair: and so humility and patience. tian will fail to afford. If the saints are in deep poverty, benevolence will not remain inactive. Plans will be laid, and schemes adopted for their effectual relief. If their character be unjustly aspersed, it will be cleared and vindicated. If a false stain be attached to their reputation, or a false charge be laid at their door, efforts will be made to preserve their fame, to maintain their honour even in the sight of a calumniating world.

O that we could say, that such liberal sentiments, and such charitable actions were generally displayed! Alas! we fear, we have laid open the tendency of love in the abstract, and not as it exists in the heart, and pervades the character. We have only shown its workings, when developed in its native perfection; but, how few of these appear in the existing features of human life! oh! were love to have its perfect work, what a beauteous spectacle would present itself to our admiring eyes! The whole body of Christ would be animated with one spirit. The whole feelings of saints would move in unison. The sweetest harmony would prevail over all the bounds of the religious world. Saints would appear like the component parts of a complex machine; a fracture in one would derange all, and hinder all, When shall this picture be realized?

Every flower hath two weeds, two extremes, about it, which are like to grow with them, but must not grow over them. And this is the good husbandman's task. His garden finds him work to weed as long as he lives. -The Husbandman's Calling. (RICHARD STEELE, A. M.)

Comfort under Trials.-Weigh your sins and your mercies together before you look at any of your trials. Never think of your sufferings, but at the same time think of your sins. Afflictions will sit light when sin sits heavy. You will find then that you have sinned away this comfort, and overloved the other blessings, have abused God's mercy, and stood in need of his rod, for he does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men. Whatever be the temptation or affliction, there is need for it. And, then, have we no mercies in our trials? "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not." HILL'S "It is well."

Cowardice in Professing Christians.-A coward in the field is like the wise man's fool; his heart is at his mouth, and he doth not know what he does profess; but a coward in his faith is like a fool in his wisdom;

his mouth is in his heart, and he dare not profess what he does know. I had rather not know the good I should do, than not do the good I know. It is better to be beaten with few stripes, than with many.-WABWICK. (Spare Minutes.)

SACRED POETRY.

LOOKING TO CHRIST.

WHILE Some despise all self-control, And seek the joys that wound the soul, Be mine that silent calm repast, A peaceful conscience to the last. That tree which bears immortal fruit, Without a canker at the root; That Friend who never fails the just, While other friends desert their trust: With this companion through the shade, My soul no more shall be dismay'd; And if my Saviour here were found, All Eden's bloom shall smile around. Had I a firm and lasting faith, To credit all His promise saith, Cheerful I'd meet the midnight gloom, And the pale regions of the tomb. Though tempests drive me from the shore, And floods descend and billows roar ; Though death appear'd in ev'ry form, My little bark should brave the storm. Amidst these various scenes of ills, Each wound some kind design fulfils; And shall I murmur at my God, When changeless love directs the rod ? Peace, rebel thoughts! I'll not complain, My father's smiles suspend my pain; Smiles that a thousand joys impart, And pour the balm that heals the heart. Though heav'n afflicts, I'll not repine; Each real comfort still is mine; Comforts that shall o'er death prevail, And journey with me through the vale. Saviour! O smooth that rugged way, And lead me to the realms of day; To milder skies, and brighter plains, Where everlasting sunshine reigns!

GOD IS LIGHT.

COTTON.

ETERNAL LIGHT! Eternal Light!
How pure that soul must be,
When placed within thy searching sight,
It shrinks not; but with calm delight,
Can live and look on Thee.

The spirits that surround thy throne,
May bear the burning bliss!
But that is surely theirs alone,
For they have never-never known
A fallen world like this!

Oh! how can I, whose native sphere
Is dark-whose mind is dim,
Before th' Ineffable appear,
And on my naked spirit bear
That uncreated beam?

There is a way for man to rise
To that sublime abode,-
An offering, and a Sacrifice-
A Holy Spirit's energies-

An Advocate with God.

These, these prepare man for the sight
Of majesty above;

The sons of ignorance and night,
Can stand in th' "Eternal sight,"
Through the Eternal love.

BINNEY.

MISCELLANEOUS.

The death-bed scene of Mr North, M. P., who died in 1831. His feelings were so little overwhelmed at the prospect of death, that, true to the last in tenderness and love, his thoughts were engaged in wishing to give comfort to a beloved and distant friend whose heart he knew would ache for him, to whom he sent a message, to tell him of that hope with which he had died, and of the change in his sentiments-and to tell him that he agreed with him in every point on which he had spoken to him on religion, but one-this he mentioned and, while it did not in the least affect his hope, it served well to indicate the clearness of his recollections and conceptions on the subject and having sat up in his bed to state his views, "that all alike were lost, and all without hope, except in Christ"— he closed, in the most solemn tone, with these emphatic words" When I shall come to stand in the Almighty's presence, my only plea for acceptance with him, shall be the merits and intercession of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." Is not this plea sufficient for a sinner? -he felt it so for himself no doubt-no fear-no apprehension of his acceptance-no misgivings as to the certainty of his salvation escaped his lips-how could there, when his soul was leaning on the arm of his God? He repeated, with peculiar emphasis, and ardour of devotion, the Thanksgiving of our Service: "We bless thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life-but above all, for thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and the hope of glory;" he felt that hope of glory in his heart, and, therefore, was enabled to pour it from his lips. He called for a book to read some sacred poetry, which he had admired, expressive of gratitude and praise. The Bible was read to him-among other parts "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Psal. xxiii. 4. The live-long night, the last he had to spend on earth, with an unwinking eye, and an unwearied tongue, he poured out a strain of eloquent expressions, in varied reflections and acts of humiliation. Praise and prayer; a deep confession of his own unworthiness and guilt; a sense of all the vanity of earth, and of the infinite love and mercy of his Lord, by turns occupied his thoughts and tongue; those dearest earthly ties, in which before, he seemed " to live and move, and have his being," never rose to intercept or interrupt the current of his soul. Redeemed from every object of this lower world, his feelings, affections, talents, and all the powers of his eloquence, were consecrated to the next, and rising above all the grosser themes of time and sense, they sought their proper home in tending to the source from which they sprung and anticipated the flight of his immortal spirit, by ascending to the throne of his Redeemer and his God.neral Sermon, by REV. J. M'GHEE, A. B.

tians.

CONTENTS.-The Benevolence of the Primitive Chris J. By Rev. R. Jamieson.-On the Sacritice of Fools. By Rev. J. Wood, A. M.-Biographical Sketch. Mr Robert Blair, formerly Minister at St. Andrews, Fifeshire. Concluded.-A Discourse. By Rev. R. Cook.-The Age of the Earth. By Rev. W. Patrick. Part IV. Love to the Brethren. By Rev. W. Oliver. No. VI. -Christian Treasury. Extracts from Steele, Hill's "It is well," and Warwick.-Sacred Poetry. "Looking to Christ." By Cotton. -"God is Light." By Binney.-Miscellaneous.

Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, 2, Hunter Square, Edinburgh; J. R. MACNAIR, & Co., 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; JAMES NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London: W. CURRY, Junr. & Co., Dublin; and W. M'Coмв, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland.

Subscribers in Town will have their copies delivered at their own residences regularly, by leaving their addresses with the Publisher. Subscription (payable in advance) per quarter, of twelve weeks 1s. 6d., and the other periods in proportion.

THE

SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD,

CONDUCTED UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF MINISTERS AND MEMBERS OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.

66 the fear of THE LORD, THAT IS WISDOM."

No. 146.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1838.

THE BENEVOLENCE OF THE PRIMITIVE
CHRISTIANS.

BY THE REV. ROBERT JAMIESON,
Minister of Currie.

(Continued from page 772.)

PRICE 1d.

every delicacy, and even with large sums of money, which the liberality of foreign Christians had sent to them for their support.

Egypt in the depth of winter, to visit their brethren in the distant mines of Cilicia. Some of them, when the object of their journey became public, were arrested on their arrival at Cesarea, and had their eyes pulled out, and their feet dislocated. Others shared a worse fate at Ascalon, Various companies,

But many of the sufferers for the cause of religion, instead of being thrown into prison, were sent to labour, like slaves, in distant and unwholesome mines. Thither the benevolence of their THE benevolence of the primitive Christians brethren followed them, and never were contribeing thus readily, and on all occasions, exerted in butions more frequently and liberally made by the the cause of suffering humanity, it need not sur- Christians, than when they were destined for the prise us that the most frequent and distinguished relief of the mutilated martyrs, who laboured amid objects of it were the sufferers for righteousness' the darkness and the noxious vapours of these sake. Many of these were immured in prisons, subterranean dungeons. Nay, many even underand no sooner did Fame spread abroad the sad took long and toilsome pilgrimages, in order to intelligence that one of them was lying in the comfort and support those victims of oppression dungeons of a city, than the Christians of the place with their Christian sympathy; and in the perflocked in crowds to the doors of the cell, begging formance of these pious journeys, encountered admission. Patiently did they bear the caprice perils, amid which, nothing but benevolence of and rebuffs of the surly guards and jailers ;- the purest and most exalted character could have anxiously did they resort to every means of con- preserved their resolution firm and unshaken. A ciliation, by persuasions, entreaties, and bribes ;-party of Christians, for instance, set out from often, when all proved fruitless, did they lie for days and nights together outside of the walls of the dungeon, praying for the deliverance or for the happy and triumphant exit of the imprisoned confessor. If admitted, as they sometimes were, the brethren, most of whom were always women, carried with them beds, materials of food, cloth-being burnt or beheaded. ing, and fuel, they kissed their chains, washed who successively went from different quarters, on their feet, and rendered them all the most tender the benevolent errand of expressing their symand endearing offices they could think of. Wit-pathy with the interesting miners, prosecuted ness the well known case of the impostor Peregrinus. This person, who lived in the second century, had been obliged to flee from his native country, Armenia, on account of some great crime, and having settled in India, became acquainted with the principles of the Gospel,-appeared an illustrious penitent, and made public profession of the faith. His fame as a Christian spread far and wide, and when his religious tenets brought him the distinction of imprisonment, the Christians, deeply afflicted at his fate, made extraordinary efforts to procure his release. These, however, proving unsuccessful, they strove to mitigate the evils of confinement by loading him with every attention. At break of day, numbers of old women, widows, and orphans, were seen surrounding the walls of the prison, their hands filled with VOL. III.

But

their undertaking amid similar dangers. nothing could repress the ardent wish to pour the balm of consolation into the hearts of men, who were suffering the worst species of slavery for the sake of the truth. And highly were those honoured who lived to tell the tale that they had seen the martyrs in the mines, to describe how they toiled, and wrought, and bore the chain,— and to carry, above all, the glad tidings of the fortitude, the patience, resignation, and Christian joy with which they endured their hard lot.

There was one other manifestation of the benevolence of the primitive Christians, that deserves a particular notice, their love for the souls of men. It was a remarkable feature of their character, and though inseparable from the anxiety they displayed on every occasion to promote the

« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »