l^lh~3^ 



LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 

PRINCETON, N. J. 
PRESENTED BY 

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY 



Division. 
Section... 






i 



V 



TRACTS V^. 



JUL L i933 



C^/ 



OGim F.r«\$ 



OF THE 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



General Serus 




VOL. XIII 



PRINTED BY THE 

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

ISO NASSAU. STREET, NEW YORll. 



CONTENTS. 



VOL. XIII. 

No. Pages. 

523. A Word of Warning. By Rev. Matthew Henry, .... 4 

524. The Price of a Soul, 4 

525. William Patterson, 4 

526. Stop that Thought, . 4 

527. The Sinner's Helps and Hinderances 12 

528. Mick Healy, the Bible Reader, 8 

529. A Glimpse of the Redeemed in Glory. By Rev. James 

Hamilton, London, 8 

530. The Only Son, 4 

531. Saving a Soul from Death, 4 

532- Your place in Church is empty, 8 

533. Grieving the Spirit of God, 4 

534. The Fatal Mistake ; or the Midnight Shipwreck, .... 4 

535. Religion and Beneficence ; or the System of Giving, taught 

in the Holy Scriptures. By Rev. Parsons Cooke, ... 24 
53G. Narrative of Phebe Ann Jacobs. By Mrs. T. C. Upham, . 8 

537. True Religion. From President Edwards' Reflections on 

the Life of David Brainerd, 4 

538. One Honest Effort ; or the College Student, 4 

539. The Conversion and Call to the Ministry of thellev. John 

H. Livingston, D. D., , . 12 

540. The Swedish Nurse-Maid 5 illustrating the Reality and Beau- 

ty of True Religion. By Mrs. Henderson, St. Peters- 
burg, 12 

541. Discouragements and Supports of the Christian Ministry. 

By Rev. Robert Hall, 32 

542. Memoir of Nathaniel Ripley Cobb, the Christian Merchant, 8 

543. The Russian Tailor ; or, the Great Change and its Fruits 

By Rev. Richard Knill, 16 

544. A Village Preacher. By Rev. Richard Knill, 4 

545 A Visit to your Family, 8 

546. The Teacher, 4 



4 CONTENTS. 

547 Just Too Late, 4 

548. The Missionary's Nephew, 4 

549. The Power and Grace of Christ in the last years of John 

Colby, 8 

550. Sowing and Reaping, -. . . 16 

551. '^Hinder Me Not," „ . . 4 

552. The Old Ploughman ; or, a New World, IG 

553. The Sword of the Spirit. By Rev. C. Malan, ..... 4 

554. Another Debt ; or, Jesus the Sinner's Friend, 12 

555. '-To Whom shall I go*^" or, the Church-member in Doubt 

and Distress, 12 

556. Mary Eliza, 12 

557. The Happy Escape, . 8 

558. Who would not Pray? 8 

559. The Grateful Criminal. By Rev. John Scudder, .... 4 

560. Tamo, the Nestorian Prisoner, 4 

561. '"It is Ten Thousand Years Ago,*' 4 

562. The Christian's Great Interest. By Rev. William Guthrie, 

A. D. 1665, 4 

563. Am I Christ's? By President Edwards, 4 

564. Examples and Encouragements in Prayer, from the History 

of the Past, before the Veil was actually rent, .... 8 

565. ''I am a Poor Sinner," 4 

566. How to do Good ; or. Ways of Caring for the Souls of others, 8 

567. The Apprentice-boy, 8 

568. The Christian Catholic. Translated from the French, . . 16 

569. The Parable of the Prodigal Son. By Rev. Matthew Henry, 8 

570. Living, or Dead? By Rev. J. C. Ryle, 28 

571. Old Moses, 4, 

572. Looking to Jesus. Rev. John Willison, Dundee, Scotland, 20 

573. What shall I do for Jesus? 4, 

574. The Preeminence of Christ, in his Word, and his Works on 

Earth, and in Heaven. By Rev. James Sherman, . . 16 

575. Characters of a Believing Christian, in Paradoxes and seem- 

ing Contradictions. By Lord Bacon, 4 

576. The Fulness of Christ. By the late Rev. Isaac Lewis, D. D., 16 

577. Dennis and the Priest, 4 

578. Sayings of Jesus. From the London Tract Society, . . 8 

579. James Newhall. By Rev. Parsons Cooke, D. D 12 



A 

WORD OF WARNING. 

BY REV. MATTHEW HENRY. 



It is no time to dally and trifle, and speak softly, when 
precious souls are at stake, and their eternal condition is so 
nearly concerned. We cannot but speak the things which 
we have seen and heard. Knowing the terrors of the Lord, 
we persuade men. The blood of your soul would lie at our 
door, if we should not give you warning. But what shall 
I say ? Shall I tell you, that 

1. The God with whom we have to do is a holy, right- 
eous,, all-seei7ig God. That which makes sinners secure is 
their mistake concerning this. They think of the Almighty 
as if he were easily imposed upon, altogether such a one as 
themselves. Thus they cheat themselves. But be not de- 
ceived. Know that God's eye is always upon you. He is 
sicquainted with your secret sins. He hates every sin ; and 
So all who are impenitent, he "is a consuming fire." He is 
"00 wise to be deceived. He is true to his threatenings. 

2. Your precious, immortal soul must shortly a'ppear 
before God in judgment, to be determined by a righteous 
doom to an unchangeable condition. You have a jewel in 
your hands of inestimable value. It is thy soul, thy precious 
soul. It is not a trifle, or a thing of naught, but thy own 
soul ; and once lost, it is irrecoverably lost. The gain of 
all the world carmot compensate it. This soul, at the |3,ps^, 
is in a very hazardous state. It lies at stake, ^t is in gr^at 
danger. Thou art on a trial for thy life. 

3. If you live and die in a graceless, unsanctificd state, 
as sure as God is in heaven, you ivill be to eternity in helL 
Though you make a great profession ; though you attain a 



2 A WORD OF WARNING 

high reputation among men ; though you prophesy in Christ's 
name ; though you excel in gifts ; though you abound in use- 
fulness ; yet all this, without a living principle of grace in 
your heart, will never bring you to. heaven. And believe it, 
grace and holiness are quite other things than what the 
world take them to be. Religion consists in humility and 
self-denial, and the reigning love of God and contempt of 
the world. He is the Christian who is one inwardly. 

4. There are thousands in hell who, when alive in the 
world, thought themselves safe. Multitudes have been de- 
ceived with dross for gold — have thought they were rich 
when they were not so. There is a generation of such. We 
have reason then to be jealous of a cheat in that in which 
so many have been cheated before us. This should startle 
us. Take heed lest while you sleep as others did, you perish 
as they did. How secure was the rich man in the midst of 
his prosperity ! But God called him a fool. 

5. The unsanctified heart may have a false peace, while 
yet it is the devil's palace ; and while he, as a strong man 
armed, keepeth it. It would startle you to think of belong- 
ing to the devil, of being under his power, of being led cap- 
tive by him, of being set on by him, of having him to work 
in you. You would be startled if the devil were to appear 
to you ; but he is as really working in the children of diso- 
bedience, as if he appeared to them. When you are going 
on in a sinful way, and yet say you have peace, it is the devil 
that tells you so : you are in the midst of enemies. 

6. While you are asleep in carnal security, your damna- 
tion slunibereth not. The Judge standeth before the door. 
Death is at hand ; perhaps within a few days, a few hours 
of )-ou. You would be startled, though you put far off the 
evil day, if I could assure you that you should live but one 
year ; arid will it not awaken you, that I cannot assure you, 
nor can you assure yourself, that you shall live a day ? The 
veil of flesh is easily and quickly rent, and then appears the 
awful scene of eternity — eternity. Have you not seen many, 



A WORD OF WARNING. 3 

who were as likely to live as yourself, snatched away ? How 
startling was the declaration, This night th) soul shall be re* 
quired of thee I A criminal who is condemned to die to-mor- 
row, cannot forget it ; it fills him eating, drinldng, sleeping : 
and can we forget the amazing doom, the amazing sight, the 
amazing gulf that we are just upon the brink of— just reacfy 
to step into ? 

7. As the tree falls, so it lies, and so it will lie to eternity. 
As death leaves us, judgment finds us. The doom is irre- 
versible, the sentence irrevocable, the condition on the other 
side death unchangeable. A gulf will be fixed. It is too 
late to repent in the gi'ave. Up and bestir yourself, for you 
have only a little inch of time in which to be doing. 

But let me direct you. When a man asleep is roused 
a little, he is, in some measure, capable of advice. Know 
then, generally, what you must do. Sleep no longer, be se- 
cure no longer. 

1. Suspect yourself as to your spiritual state ; self-sus- 
picion is the first step towards awakening. What if, after 
all, my faith should be but fancy, my hope presumption ? 
What reason have I to be so very confident ? May I not be 
deceived ? Many who eat bread with Christ, yet lift up the 
heel against him. The disciples, when our Lord intimated 
that one of them should betray him, began to say unto him, 
one by one, ** Is it I ?" Do not, in a matter of such great 
importance, always take things upon trust. 

2. See and be convinced of the tniserahle state yoic are 
in ivhile out of Christ. You are not the more safe for feel- 
ing secure. Look about you ; consider, as men do who are 
newly awakened, where you are. See yourself wretched 
and miserable, a child of wrath. Be sensible of the guilt 
of sin that lies upon you, of the power of sin that rules in 
you. You are under the power of Satan. You are exposed 
to the curse of God. There is but one Hfe between thee and 
hell. And is this a condition for a man to sleep in ? 



4 A WORD OF VVARNINO. 

3. Stir up yourself to a due concern about your soul, 
and your eternal welfare. " If ye will inquire, inquire ye." 
Inquire as they did when awake, who are mentioned by the 
prophet Micah, "Wherewith shall I come before the Lord ?" 
Inquire as those new converts in the Acts of the Apostles, 
" Men and brethren, what shall we do ?" Inquire as the 
jailer did, " Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" There 
begins to be some hope of people when they look about them 
as men concerned. Here I am now, but where must I be to 
eternity ? If I should die to-night, and go to judgment, what 
would become of my precious soul ? That is the holy feai 
which is the beginning of wisdom. Seek unto Jesus Christ 
for life and light, and Christ shall give thee light. "We must 
go to him by an active faith ; consent to the gospel proposal 
of salvation by him. Say. Whither shall I go but to Christ ? 
Sense of danger should drive us to him with all speed. We 
are never truly awake and up, till by faith we have " put 
on the Lord Jesus Christ." 

4. Set yourself with all dilige?ice to do the work for 
which you were sent into the world. Awake to righteous- 
ness. Up, and be doing. Your work is great ; your journey 
long ; your enemies many ; opposition powerful ; strength 
small ; time short and uncertain. Son, go work to-day in 
the vineyard. Dost thou not see how it is grown over with 
thorns ? 

6. Take heed of delays. They have ruined thousands. 
" Yet a little sleep," said the ancient slumberers. Men are 
roused and disturbed a little, but they only turn and go to 
sleep again, and so become conviction-proof — can sleep in 
the midst of a thousand calls. Take heed of putting by 
conviction ; it is bad freezing again, after a thaw. Let not 
this call be lost after all the rest. What effect it will have 
I know not, but I have delivered my soul. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETT. 



THE ' 



PRICE OF A SOUL. 



There is a buyer in the markets of the world whose 
name is never in the newspapers, and whose bids are never 
in the prices-current. Nevertheless, his business is widely 
extended, and carried on with ceaseless activity. He chaffers 
in the open street. He wallts boldly upon " Change." He 
glides into the dimness of the counting-house. He steps into 
the workshop. He goes out upon the farm. He is most suc- 
cessful at the theatre, the tavern, the race-course, and the 
ballroom. He is the buyer of souls. 

He has various prices in his dreadful traffic. He bought 
one soul for tliirty pieces of silver. He has bought some for 
less. But for a larger price — for heaps of gold, to shine and 
glitter in men's eyes, or for fame and guilty pleasures, how 
many have bartered away their immortal spirits I 

Here is the history of one exchange of this land. Some 
years since, the writer sat in the midst of a large congrega- 
tion, gathered m a church in one of the eastern counties of 
Pennsylvania. It was the middle of the week, but the Spirit 
of God was upon the hearts of the people, and they came 
willingly to the house of God. It was a solemn ^lace. 
Without the walls of the old church there waved an ancient 
forest, and hard by, the dust of our fathers slept. Within, 
the Holy Ghost was workmg in a hundred awakened hearts. 
The sermon of the morning had for its theme, the value oi 
the soul. The servant of Christ closed his appeal with the 
following narration. 

A few years ago, there was Uving in one of our large 
cities, a young lady who was the daughter of wealthy and 
worldly parents. She was fond of the gay pleasures of the 
city, and plunged into them with the eagerness of youth. 
Her gayety, youth, and wealth, were sure passports to the 
highest circles of fashion, and there she lived and moved 
and trifled as though there were no other world. 

While thus living in pleasure she was invited one even- 
mg, by a friend, to accompany her to the weekly prayer- 
meeting in a church of the city. There it pleased God to 
1" 



2 THE PRICK OF A SOUL. 

virfit her with the influences of liis Spirit. She was convin- 
ced of sin, and returned to her home in deep sorrow. Her 
heaviness of spirit was soon discovered, and her worldly 
parents were in consternation lest their beautiful daughter 
should leave the world of fashion for the service of God. 
They besought her and commanded her to return to the cir- 
cles in which she had formerly shone. They surroun^Jed her 
with her gay friends. Yet, she was still stricken in heart, 
and refused to be comforted. At last they succeeded in 
bribing her to attend a large party of pleasure, by the gift of 
the richest dress which could be purchased in the city. She 
reluctantly consented to their request, w^ent to the iestival, 
and returned without one trace of her religious emotions. 

In a few weeks after, that daughter was lying at the 
point of death. Skilful physicians were around her, but they 
could only tell her dismayed parents that " there was no 
hope." When this opinion was made known to the dying 
girl, she lay for a few minutes in perfect silence. Then 
rousing herself, she ordered a servant to bring her that dress, 
and hang it upon the post of her bed. She then sent for 
her father and mother. In a few moments they stood weep- 
ing by her side. She looked upon each of them for a time ; 
then lifting up her hand, and pointing to the dress, said to 
each of them distinctly, and with the terrible calmness of 
despair, ^'Father, mother, there is the 'price of my soul.'' 
In a few hours she knew the full value of that which she 
had lost. There are lessons taught by this mournful story, 
to which we do well if we take heed. 

1 . It warns us against the terrible sin of tampei-ing zvith 
the soul that is under the influence of the Spirit of God. 
Some men do this deliberately, and of purpose. They strive 
to defeat the merciful purposes of the Holy Ghost. They 
sneer at the wholesome fears of the sinner, as the imagmary 
troubles of a coward. Partaking of the malicious craft of 
the devil their master, they perplex the inquirer with soph- 
isms, and thus fill his mind with doubts ; or they lure him 
hack to the world, by cunning temptations to open sin. Liko 
some men of our Saviour's day, they neither go into the 
kingdom themselves, nor do they suffer those who are enter- 
ing to go in. Surely when such men are condemned by God, 
all others must say Amen, and acknowledge that their " dam- 
nation is just." 



THIi PRICE OF A SOUL. 3 

It is to be hoped, however, that the large majority of the 
men who are educated under the light of the gc^pe., would 
not commit this sin intentionally, and of " malice afore 
thought." Even when careless concerning their own souls, 
and willing to barter them a^vay for that which is vanity 
and a cheat, they would not choose to occupy the place of 
the parents in the foregoing narrative. They do not covet, 
they rather shrink from the agony those parents must have 
felt, when they looked upon their dying child. They do not 
wish to go to the judgment with the stain of another's blood 
upon their garments. They would not willingly increase the 
difficulties of the struggling soul. 

Tet are they, in efi'ect, upon the side of the avowed and 
impious opposers of God's Spirit. If not for Christ, they are 
against him. If not coworkers with God, they are coworkers 
wi-th Satan. Their example and their influence can have but 
one result. They can lead men only in the way they walk 
themselves, and their pathway leads directly to the pit. Let 
al] 8uch hear this warning, and beware how they set them- 
selves agamst the Holy Spirit. 

2. We are warned against the sin of grieving the Holy 
Ghost. This was the sin of the daughter. Her parents 
tempted, and she yielded. They offered and she accepted 
the seducing gift. It is possible that the father and mother 
may not have been aware of the greatness of their sin. 
They may have done it "'ignorantly, m unbelief" But the 
daughter had a quickened conscience. She was under the 
influence of the Holy Ghost. She had convictions of sin, 
and solemn impressions of duty. In doing what she did, she 
acted in direct opposition to the suggestions of conscience and 
of God's Spirit. She took the fatal bribe, and went where 
it was hoped conscience might again be stupefied, and the 
Spirit banished from her heart. 

Can the human soul commit a more daring transgression, 
after it has been enlightened from on high, than voluntarily 
to return to the world and sin ? Can there be a more pre- 
sumptuous offence, than dehberately to close the eyes, and 
plunge into fresh guilt ? Next to the gift of liis Son, the gift 
of his Holy Spirit is the best blessing God has to bestow upon 
guilty man. -Is it not, then, the crowning act of all wick- 
edness, knowingly and wilfully to resist this Spirit ? And if 
men will resist such mercies, who shall say aught against 



4 THE PRICE OF A SOUL. 

the justice of the punishment, when the despisers " wondei 
and perish?" 

3. Ponder now, solemnly and deeply, a question which is 
addressed to you in all earnestness and sincerity : Have you 
7wt felt the strivings of God's Spirit, and have you not 
resisted thcrn ? Have you never seen a hand which " pointed 
to the commg wrath ?" Have you never heard a voice which 
" warned you from that wrath to flee ?" And did you not for- 
get these solemn warnings ? Can you not look back upon a 
season, still well remembered, and visible yet in the waste of 
misspent years — a season in which the importance of this 
world manifestly dwindled, and your soul was brought under 
the power of the world to come — when truth stood out before 
you in no equivocal light, and duty lay before you as clearly 
as if traced by a sunbeam ? Has not the law of God distmctly 
uttered its terrible threatenings ? Have not convictions of sin 
darkened and disturbed all your thoughts ? In the silence ol 
the night, or in the glare and business of the day, and even 
in the haunts of revelry and crime, have you not heard peal 
after peal from Smai, wliich made your soul tremble and 
fear? 

If there has been such a season, what has been its result ? 
What has been the effect of that critical period in your his- 
tory ? Did it leave you penitent and humble at the foot of 
the cross ? Or did it leave you with a harder heart, and a 
more seared conscience, to await in indifference the judg- 
ments of Almighty God ? If this is the case, ponder one 
question more ; the Spirit you have grieved is its author : " If 
he that despised Moses' law, died without mercy under two 
or three witnesses ; of how much sorer punishment, suppose 
ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot 
the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, 
wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath 
done despite nnto the Spirit of grace T^ What must that 
punishment be, which is " sorer " than " dying without mer- 
cy ?" Whatever it may be, it will be the portion of the ac 
spiser of God's Holy Spirit. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. S2S. 

WILLIAM PATTERSON. 



TuLLiAM Patterson was born at Sligo, Ireland. He 
\vas a stone-cutter, a good workman, and lived many years 
on Arbor Hill, Albany, New York. He had a wife and one 
child. He was a carel'ess, and an intemperate man till 
he was twenty-seven years of age, when his intemperance 
brought on palsy, which seized the right side of his body. 

One morning when his physician visited him, he pre- 
tended he could not speak, thinking to alarm the doctor; 
and he never spoke again: thus he seemed to have been 
providentially rebuked for acting a lie. 

Soon after this, he felt his lost condition as a sinner in 
the sight of God, and earnestly desired the use of his tongue 
to express the agony of his mind. He sorrowed for his 
sins, repented of them, confessed thein to God, and found 
mercy in believing in Jesus, wlio died the death of the cross 
to save his soul, and whose blood would wash away all his 
guilt. This precious confidence in his Saviour cotitinucd 
during the whole remaining thirty years of his afflicted hfe. 

Some time after the attack of palsy, his wife died, and 
he was removed to the almshouse, where it became neces- 
sary to amputate one of his limbs a"bove the knee. In this 
helpless condition his piety shone brightly. It was the 
delight of Christian friends to visit and converse with 
him, he writing his thoughts with his left hand on a 
black-board with a piece of chalk. In this way he would 
relate his sweet experience, and the silent communings 
of his heart with his adorable Lord. 

He was often surrounded by the wicked and profane, 
but in uncomplaining meekness submitted to his lot; pray- 
ing for those he could not help in any other way. Besides 
the trial of being constantly surrounded with the ungodly, 



2 WILLIAM PATTERSON. 

he endured many inconveniences and discomforts ; yet in 
after-years, when comparative comfort surrounded him in 
his daughter's dvi^elling, he thought his spiritual enjoy- 
ment while in the almshouse exceeded that of any other 
period of his life. So it pleases God to make his pres- 
ence abound to his people under severe privations. 

The grace of meekness shone peculiarly in him, and 
marked liis countenance with a. thoughtful submission, 
which was apparent to any observer, as he sat upon his 
little square cot-bed, where he could never lie down, be- 
cause he was also afflicted with asthma, which was at 
times very oppressive. 

His veneration for God in all his names, attributes, and 
providences was remarkable. He would bow his head 
and slowly raise his hand when spiritual subjects were 
introduced, expressing in this way his understanding and 
acquiescence in what was said. He did not fret under 
trifles, but in patience possessed his soul; neither sum- 
mer's heat or winter's cold disturbed him,' for he was 
reconciled to the will of God. He cheerfully suffered 
trials and necessities to which none but a person in his 
dependent circumstances could be subject. 

He smiled with holy joy when his home in heaven was 
spoken of; his mind was always in tune for this theme. 
When left to himself, prayer and reading the Bible were 
his constant employments. To remember where he left 
o^] he made a mark with his nail, and there is hardly a 
spot of his New Testament unmarked. He loved God's 
truth; it was his delightful resource for happiness and 
instruction. He would sometimes get the names of his 
benefactors written for him, and would afterwards be 
observed to read them and sit a while in silent prayer 
over each. He often had a keen sense of the punishment 
of the wdcked ; sin and eternal suffering were solemn and 
deeply affecting subjects to him. His subdued, devout 
appearance in his situation, sometimes aflccted persons 
to tears while they sat beside him: a young Indy who 



WILLIAM PATTERSOX. 3 

once visited him, could not control her feelings sufficiently 
to remain long in his presence. 

There needed no proof that he was happy; his coun- 
tenance expressed it. Once writing to a friend who sat 
beside him, among other things he said, " I am happier 
than a prince on a throne ; indeed, I would not make the 
exchange." When he was removed to a friend's house 
for a time he said, "Jacob returned to his kindred, and I 
to mine." Another time, as a friend expressed the fear 
that he was fatiguing himself, he replied, " No ; convers- 
ing with chalk, is like turning water into wine." Again, 
speaking of instruction, he wrote, "It is the immense load 
of ignorance that shields the conscience from the sword of 
the Spirit. Enlighten, then expect the blessing; people 
of the world are not such fools as we think they are." 

Another time, as the conversation was upon faith, he 
wrote, "Coming as a little child asking a piece of bread, 
one seldom goes away empty. Simple faith goes further 
than worldly schemes. When we can in faith and full 
assurance say. Thou art the Lord my God, it is well with 
us." Speaking of heavenly mindedness, he wrote, " Pov- 
erty is riches, loss is gain, heaven is home, time is tuj.'ned 
into eternity." Another time he wrote of heaven, " That 
sun in the firmament never sets. There, tides never ebb 
or flow." One warm day, as a friend spoke of the exces- 
sive heat, he wrote a beautiful thought, the words of which 
are not noted ; it was to the eflect, that the perfect sym- 
metry of heaven insured the delight of its climate. These 
are a few of the beautiful things he wrote. 

There were many precious links of Christian affection 
formed between this helpless child of God and his friends. 
He felt a deep and prayerful interest in their spiritual 
welfare, and in that of their children, who were very dear 
to him ; and when the cares ox sorrows of life pressed 
heavily upon them, they often returned from a visit to Mr. 
Patterson with new songs of thanksgiving and praise^ He 
would pour out the calm, confiding exercises of his soul ; 



4 WILLIAM PATTERSON. 

then lay by his board to join a prayer, and sometimes a 
hymn, which were peculiar enjoyments to him. They 
who have at will the delights of family and social worship, 
know not tlie sweet pleasure of having spiritual exercises 
fall on the ear, as those do who have silent Sabbaths and 
are without such privileges. 

We are apt to think that the suffering children of God 
who are shut out from the active duties of life, have few 
or no spiritual trials; but it is not so. Mr. Patterson was 
not without inward temptations and outward troubles, even 
in the latter part of his life. About six months before 
his death he had a violent conflict with the enemy of his 
soul ; and by the rather injudicious conversation of a friend, 
the trial Avas so increased that his limbs shook from the 
agitation of his spirit. A friend who had passed through 
deep waters heard of his anguish, and hastened to him, 
Avhen by sympathy and recognition of the enemy, he was 
relieved. His peace was never disturbed again. 

His gratitude to friends for their kindness was very 
o-reat. To one who was allowed to be the channel of 
many of his comforts, he expressed anticipations of acknow- 
ledging all, when his tongue should be loosed in eternity; 
and when, if permitted, he would be the first to welcome 
his friend into the blessed world. 

This dear cripple lay a long time at the pool of Bethes- 
da ; but in an unexpected moment, in the year 183G, and 
in the fifty-seventh year of his age, death broke up the 
tabernacle and set the longing spirit free. None can doubt 
tliat he is now adoring the Lamb that was slain for him. 
"Precious in the sight of the Lord, is the death of his saints." 
He had been deeply oppressed with the wickedness and 
spiritual destitution of his neighborhood, and a neat little 
church has now been built a short distance from the spot 
where he spent the last oight years of his prayerful life. 



ruBLisiiKu ];y the amehican tract society. 



No. 5*6. 



STOP THAT THOUGHT! 



THAT WICKED THOUGHT— STOP IT. 

The divine law denounces it. In a catalogue of sins, 
given by the Lawgiver himself, we find "evil thoughts" 
in connection with ''murders, adulteries, thefts, false 
witness," all condemned alike by the law. Wicked 
thoughts generate openly wicked actions. They as 
much violate law as the acts to which they lead. The 
law as much reprobates the viper in the eg^ as the 
viper full grown ; and denouncing the sinful act, it does, 
by necessity, the sinful thought that led to it. If then 
the divine law has any authority with you, stop that 
wicked thought. 

Wisdom bids joii stop it. At the earliest period 
possible you crush other evils. What alarm and haste 
are inspired by a single burning shingle on a roof — by 
the first steps of disease. Early, prompt, and energetic 
are you to repel the first invasion of health or property. 
Be so to repel that wicked thought. For, 

It will so©n defy your power. Call it a drop if j^ou 
please, so minute a portion is it of a man's history. 
But it has the fearful power of attracting to itself other 
drops, till all admonitions, human and divine, are swept 
away by the flood. 

Call it a particle, as of the small dust of the balance, 
yet it can attract other particles, till an overwhelming 
mass of guilt shall bury the soul in perdition. 

An indulged wicked thought — how long before it 
excites other wicked thoughts, and the hateful passions 
of the soul are set on fire? Each of those thoughts is 
fuel to the flame. 



2 STOP THAT thought! 

All true philosophy dh'ects us to the fountain, for 
the power we would have over the stream. Take care 
of the "spark, if you would not have the flame, and the 
conflagration. Human wisdom lops off the branches, 
when it assails only outward evil habits. But divine 
wisdom lays the axe at the root of the tree, when it bids 
us " stop the wicked thought." 

Kindness bids you to stop it. Had such a rebuke 
driven the first wicked thought from the bosom of the 
tempted Eve, what an amount of woe to the human fam- 
ily, temporal and eternal, would have been prevented ! 

Suppose that, with effectual power, it had fallen on 
David's ear, when the first impulse was given to that 
career of guilt which made him an adulterer and mur- 
derer ; what shame and remorse, how many agonies 
and tears would have been prevented. 

Had Judas stopped that thought which fired the 
train of covetous emotions in his heart, and which ended 
in the betraying of his Lord, what a kindness it had 
been to his soul. 

Had the timid Peter repelled that unbelieving 
thought which laid open his heart to the tempter, and 
caused the countless tears of remorse, what shame and 
suffering had been saved him. 

That thought of malice — stop it. Else it will gather 
other elements of flame, and burning more and more 
fiercely as kindred thoughts and emotions contribute to 
its i^ower, some dreadful deed of blood may proclaim, 
*'how great a matter a little fire kindleth." 

That thought of lust — let it die as soon as it is born. 
It can live only to pollute. It will gather other vile 
thoughts to its company, and cause, by their accumula- 
tion, such a passion as shall clothe you with shame as 
with a mantle, and set the undying worm to work in 
your bosom. 



STOP THAT THOUGHT! 3 

That thought of pride — stop it. It has fired a train 
that has sent millions to perdition. Stop it 7iow. To- 
morrow your effort may be in vain. To-day it is per- 
ishable. To-morrow it will defy you. Now it is weak, 
and a little strength will suffice for a death-blow. Soon 
all your power will not master it. 

That covetous thought — had Ahab stopped it, or 
Gehazi, how different might have been their character 
and destiny. In ijour bosom it aims at power. It will 
have it. Nothing can prevent but its exjoulsion. And 
the power which, indulged, it cannot but gain, with 
what fetters will it bind the soul, and what stripes it 
will lay upon it. 

"We would stop the thief in his assault on the happi- 
ness of the community. We would stay disease, as we 
saw it widening the sphere of its ravages. We would 
arrest the flame we saw kindling upon a neighbor's roof. 
Pity for human woe and love for human happiness 
prompt this. But how many elements of evil concen- 
trate in a wicked thought ! What havoc, unrestrained, 
it will make in all the forms of human happiness. It is 
among its minor evils, that it can waste property and 
generate vices which will terribly torment the hunlan 
body. It looks for nobler game, and never fails to find 
it. It strikes at that most magnificent of Jehovah's 
works, the immortal soul. It aims at laying that in 
utter and everlasting ruin. Do we not kill in the bud a 
most terrible agent of human woe, when we cause the 
death of a wicked thought? Chiistian kindness never 
does a nobler office than when so employed. 

Who of us would not cry, in an agony of earnestness, 
"Stop that fire!" did we see it kindling upon a neigh- 
bor's dwelling? But there is a farther-reaching benevo- 
lence when we cry, "Stop that wicked thought." A house 
may be laid in ashes in the one case, but in the other an 
immortal soul may sink into everlas-ting burnings. 



4 STOP THAT thought! 

"Stop that leak!" What mariner would be heedless 
of such an admonition? Neglect will carry that noble 
ship down into the ocean's fathomless depths. But of 
how much weightier import is the appeal, "Stop that 
wicked thought!" for, if it be not stopped, an object 
more precious than all the navies of the world will sink 
into the bottomless pit. 

Saw you a chariot, whose frightened horses weie 
fiercely dashing the crowded yehicle towards a dreadful 
precipice ; would not your desire be agonizing that it 
might stop? But a wicked thought, suffered to accu- 
mulate power by the alliance of other wicked thoughts, 
how swiftly and fiercely it can drive the immortal soul 
over that precij)ice at whose base roll the billows of the 
lake of fire ! 

But while the guilt and danger of such a thought are 
thus set before you, we press another consideration of 
utmost moment. That thought indicates the most mel- 
ancholy fact that can be affirmed of a rational being, 
namely, the depravity of the heart from which it issues. 
The corruption of the tree is proved by such corrupt 
fruit. And while, therefore, you are urged to arrest 
the sinful thoughts of such a heart, you are pressed to a 
duty more imperative than all others, that of seeking 
the regeneration of the heart itself. While imholy, it 
can never have any other issues than those of sin. And 
nothing but the atoning blood and precious grace of 
our Lord Jesus Christ can ever make it holy. Not a 
moment should be lost in making a believing application 
to Him who "taketh away the sin of the world." What 
relations are borne by a wicked heart to the divine law, 
to the moral government of God, and to eternal des- 
tiny! And what motives, from such sources, urge the 
soul to Ilim "whose blood cleanseth from all sin!" 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMEEICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



T¥o. 5*27, 

THE 



SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES 



The course of human life is represented in the Scriptures 
under the figure of a road or way, in which mankind are 
traveUing towards two different destinations. I wish briefly 
to remind you, dear reader, of some of the helps to your for- 
saking " the way that leads to destruction," and of some of 
the HINDERANCES to your entering " the way which leadeth 
unto life ;" and then give a few directions which, by th^; 
blessing of God, may secure your salvation. 

I. HELPS TO YOUR FORSAKING THE WAY THAT 
LEADS TO DESTRUCTION. 

A religious education. Almost the first syllables which 
you lisped, the earliest sentences which you learned to repeat, 
were the hymns and prayers with which a child may address 
its Creator. Into your infant mind were instilled the princi- 
ples, on your infant heart were impressed the obligations of 
early piety. These teachings were uttered by the persuasive 
lips of your mother, recommended by her benignant manner, 
and enforced by her Christian example. You were taught 
to discriminate between right and wrong, and admonished 
of the dangers of transgression ; were reminded of the pleas- 
antness of wisdom's ways, and of the rewards of obedience ; 
were exhorted to forsake the evil, and pursue the good. Had 
you been true to the principles in which you were educated, 
you would not now be numbered with the enemies of God ; 
and to pei'sist in your present course, you must break away 
from the associations of childhood and youth. The holy as- 
pirations which were breathed over your cradle, the parental 
counsels to which you listened at the fireside, the fervent 
prayers which ascended from the domestic altar, the gentle 
commands which were laid upon you and the winning en- 
treaties which were addressed to you, the hallowed desires 
which were cherished for you and the high hopes which were 



2 THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

garnered in you — these all must give jjlace to evil thoughts 
and guilty purposes and sad remembrances. 

2Vie means of grace. Amid the cares of your secular 
calling, you are in danger of losing sight of sacred things, and 
absorbed in temporal pursuits, may quite forget the -enduring 
interests of eternity. The Sabbath therefore comes, by divine 
appointment, to "command a pause to business and to pleas- 
ure," and invites you, by its stillness, to the closet of secret 
communion with Heaven, and to the silent pages of the in- 
spired oracles ; and then it conducts you to the sanctuary, and 
bids you unite in its supplications and songs, and listen to the 
expositions of the sacred M'ord. You thus learn the character 
of the only hving and true God, the nature of his government 
and the claims of his law, your own relations to time and to 
eternity, the sinfulness of your rebellion, and the way of sal- 
vation through a suffering Redeemer. To deter you from ruin 
and allure you to life, every motive which can be drawn from 
the divine perfections and from your own deathless spirit, its 
sympathies, fears, and hopes, is arrayed before you in favor 
of obedience ; the Hght which can be gathered from three 
worlds is concentrated and reflected full upon your pathway. 
And if you go on, you must brave the terrors of Sinai, resist 
the gentleness of Zion, despise the sufferings of Calvary, and 
from the summit and sunlight of Christian privileges, sink to 
darker depths than the doom of paganism. 

Divi?ie providences. The Most High, as Lord of the 
universe, has many ways of addressing his creatures, and 
some of his loudest and most effective calls are his silent 
providences. These have met you when you have turned a 
deaf ear to the calls of the gospel. The kindness which has 
watched over your life, sustaining you in sickness, shielding 
you in danger, and surrounding you with comforts, has some- 
times awakened in you a sense of obligation. There have 
been moments when you have felt that some return of grat- 
itude, service, and love was due to the gracious Being who 
had made such bountiful provision for you. A sense of the 
goodness of God has almost led you to repentance. And the 
game goodness has addressed to you its admonitions, warn- 



THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 3 

^mgs, and reproofs. The meaning of his chastisements has 
been perfectly intelHgible to you. He has sought to subdue 
by trials the spirit Avhich was only elated by prosperity ; and 
your dream of earthly happiness has been suddenly disturbed. 
You were devoted to the pursuit of worldly gain, and have 
met with reverses and losses ; you snatched at the pleasures 
of earth, and they have turned to ashes in your grasp ; 
"friend after friend " has departed, to remind you to prepare 
for eternity. These providential dealings, joyful and afflict- 
ive, will probably be continued towards you ; and if you con- 
tinue in the way of death, you must harden yourself against 
God, against mercies and judgments which only a stubborn- 
ness the most inveterate can wholly withstand. 

Cltristian friends. You are constantly experiencing 
the power of Christian example. You daily observe the 
force of religious principle, and are perhaps intimately asso- 
ciated with Christians whose lives are governed by purer 
maxims than those of the world. Their character com- 
mands your confidence and respect, their principles and feel- 
ings are to your mind a sufficient refutation of infidelity ; you 
need no other evidence of the reality of the Christian religion. 
In the consistent deportment and conversation of these its 
professed disciples, it exhibits fruits which can grow only on 
the tree of life ; and the strong impression thus made' is 
adapted to check your course of impenitence. Nor is the 
power of a holy example the only influence of Christians 
with which you have to contend. Your way has been almost 
liedged up by the entreaties and prayers of your Christian 
friends. Look back and recall the influences under which 
you have been living. Have you not been met, at every 
turn, with the voice of tender solicitation from hearts which 
were pledged to feel, and lips that were entitled to speak ? 
You have listened to the words of those who were commis- 
sioned to address you, until, on the great subject of your soul's 
salvation, no additional consideration can be urged, either to 
convince your understanding or to move your heart. The 
whole matter is fully and fairly before you ; and m the way 
of personal appeal, your Christian friends may even feel con- 



4 THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

Strained to leave you to yourself. But nothing shall prevent 
their souls from weeping in secret places over your hardness 
of heart and blindness of mind. Their stricken spirits will 
not be denied the relief of pouring their cries into the ears of 
llim who heareth the sighing of the needy. 

The Holy Spirit. You have been conscious of seasons 
when your mind was more than usually exercised on the 
themes of religion, and you have felt that something was 
inclining you to make the better choice. You cherished 
desires and piirposes which, if executed, would have placed 
you in the ranks of the followers of Christ. A holy influence 
was then operating on your heart to prompt your obedience 
and love, unseen, but alas, not unresisted. And when, after 
your attention had been held to the subject, and your sympa- 
thies interested in it, you stopped short of the decisive step, 
and partially dismissed the topic from your thoughts — then 
you grieved the Spirit of God. He entreated you, as truly 
as though his solicitations had been audibly whispered in 
your ear ; and as really as though you had heard his retreat- 
ing steps, he departed from you. Again you felt his striv- 
ings ; nor until your day of grace has closed, will his influ- 
ences be withheld from your soul. He is at this moment 
urging you to accept the offer of life, to improve this present 
opportunity of making your peace with God. Only a perse- 
vering indifference to his wooings and his warnings, and a 
sinful determination the most unyielding and desperate, can 
render these inffuences powerless. 

II. HINDERANCES TO YOUR ENTERING THE WAY 
WHICH LEADETH UNTO LIFE. 

A satisfaction ivith your present state. There is nothing 
in your character and condition M^hich, as you view them, 
awakens in you any anxious concern for the future ; and your 
secret feehng is, that th-e divine Being regards you with 
jjomething of the partiality with which you look upon your- 
self You cannot for a moment believe that he is about to 
banish you from his sight on account of your odiousness, and 
punish you for ever on account of your sins. You attend his 



THE SINJ^EK"S Hi:LrS AND HINDKRANCES. 5 

sanctuary on the Sabbath, if at all, as a self-complacent 
"worshipper, and not as a sinner neeaing pardon. Confessions 
of grief and penitence for sins commitled against a holy God 
touch no responsive chord in your lieart ; and an exhibition 
of the purity of the divine law does not shake your confidence 
in your good estate, nor weaken your conviction that you are 
safe. Or this complacency may not be habitual and entire, 
and biased as your self-judgment is, an occasional doubt will 
llit across your mind, like the shadow of a cloud over the 
landscape. But when haunted with secret misgivings and 
forebodings, your apprehensions are lulled by a presumptuous 
reliance on the future for the supply of any existing defi- 
ciency in your preparation for heaven. You are therefore 
satisfied with your present situation, either as it is in itself, 
or in connection with your supposed ability to change it at 
pleasure. You are wilHng, on the whole, to rest where you 
are and risk the consequences. Appeals to you to lead a 
new life are consequently thrown away, You are incased 
in the security of a self confidence and self satisfaction, im- 
pervious as a warrior's coat of mail, and from it the arrows 
of divine truth rebound as from a panoply of steel. 

An engrossing worldlincss. Religion may be confess- 
edly important, the one thing needtul, but you allow yourself 
no leisure to attend to it. You are immersed in worldly car€S, 
which leave you neither time, strength, nor sympathy for any 
spiritual pursuit. You have powers which were designed 
to be actively employed, and you feel the need of something 
which may satisfy the cravings of your spirit; but you do 
not task your faculties and engage your affections with their 
appropriate objects. With an energy suited to their nature 
and to the high purposes for which they were formed, you 
devote them to inferior acquisitions ; and thus you waste on 
the trifles of earth those exalted erdowments, those heavenly 
aspirations and hopes, wliich were given you as a candidate 
for the skies. You renounce your celestial birthright, you com- 
promise and debase your immortality. Absorbed in worldly 
schemes, engrossed with objects which belong to the domain 
of death, you will neither seek nor find the path to life, 
vol.. xiii. 2 



Q THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

A false se7isibility. The finest sensibilities of our nature 
are allied to genuine piety ; but these natural sensibilities 
are often perverted by the prevalence of arbitraiy and arti- 
ficial standards of propriety. If true religion were deemed 
by the vv^orld a polite accomplishment, you might be con- 
scious of a desire to possess it ; but while its doctrines and 
duties are the jest of the gay throng, you carefully stand 
aloof from it. You fancy that your accession to the ranks of 
the people of God would be a descent from your present 
position. Be assured that there is ample room for your 
character to borrow from the religion of Christ dignity and 
grace and true loveliness. You may reserve your sense of 
shame for other acts than those which excite the ridicule of 
your thoughtless companions. There is nothing in the pub- 
lic profession of Christianity, and the faithful performance of 
its duties, to try the feelings of an ingenuous spirit. You 
dread the raillery of your present associates, and conceal 
from them any indications of seriousness, only because you 
have factitious and foolish ideas of what is becoming. It 
seems strange indeed, that you should thus sacrifice -your 
soul to escape the jests of those whose opinions you do not 
respect. But you have been intimate, and are ambitious 
to stand well with them ; and to lose caste among them, 
and become a subject for their merriment, is a step from 
which you shrink. Thus a false sensibility overcomes the 
convictions of your better judgment, and obstructs your en- 
trance into life. 

A di&like of the rcqidremenU of religion. The terms 
of salvation are displeasing to you. Could you " do some 
great thing," and purchase a title to heaven by signal and 
meritorious service, you might have long since attempted it. 
But when you are met at the outset with conditions which 
abase your pride to the dust, you turn away in contempt. 
You may have inwardly thanked God that you are not as 
other men ; and you must now exclaim, with a downcast 
look and a burdened heart, " God be merciful to me a sinner." 
You must renounce all self righteousness, and receive salva- 
tion as a free, sovereign, and gracious gift, bestowed upon an 



THE SINNER-S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 7 

ungrateful offender. From a demand like this your proud 
spirit revolts ; and like the Syrian leper, you seek cleansing, 
though vainly, in other streams than the waters of Israel. 
So true is it that the wicked, through the pride of his coun- 
tenance, will not seek after God. You dislike the duties of 
religion, as well as the terms on which it must be received. 
It requires you to rehnquish indulgences from which you 
derive your principal enjoyment ; and as you have no prac- 
tical knowledge of the substitute which it proposes, it seems 
to involve the sacrifice of your earthly happiness. You can- 
not consent to forsake your present walks of amusement and 
gayety ; your affections are placed on earthly objects ; you 
feel an aversion to serious reflection, and a positive disrelish 
for spiritual services ; and this constitutes a decisive impedi- 
ment to your heavenward course. 

Confirmed Jiabits of sin. Habit is that disposition of 
mind which is acquired by a frequent repetition of the same 
deed. The constant recurrence of the same acts facilitates 
their performance ; and the mind moves in an accustomed 
track without effort, and with the regularity of a fixed law. 
It was this which led the prophet to suggest, by so strong a 
comparison, the difficulty of doing good when once accus- 
tomed to do evil. Habitual guilt had dyed the soul with 
stains as indelible as the sable hue of the Ethiopian's sl'in, 
or the leopard's spots. Its effect upon yourself is mournfully 
attested by your own recollections, running back to the sea- 
son of childhood and youth. The time was, and you remem- 
ber it, when your heart was soft and sensitive ; but it is hard- 
ened now. The time was, when your conscience was tender ; 
but it is seared and callous now. Truths which once moved 
you, even to tears, do not affect you now ; to the most earnest 
entreaties, and the most solemn admonitions, you now listen 
without emotion. The law of progress has been traced upon 
your course of disobedience in fearful characters. It is not 
more legible in the obduracy of your heart than in your 
accelerated career of open iniquity. Neglect of God, and 
violations of his law, which would once have startled you, 
occasion you no uneasiness now. And when to the evil teiv 



8 THE SIxXNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

(lencies of a corrupt nature is thus superadded the ease of 
habitual transgression, there cannot be a doubt that con- 
firmed habits of sin constitute the most formidable barrier 
to your entrance into life. 

These are some of the hinderances to your, salvation ; 
they render the helps which have been kindly proffered to 
you, unavailing, and must be boldly surmounted. No half- 
formed resolution vi^ill ever save you ; you cannot extricate 
yourself without an energetic, agonizing effort. You are 
entrapped in the snares of the Adversary, like the king oi 
the forest caught in the hunter's toils ; you are entangled 
in the meshes of sin, and by one collected and vigorous 
spring, God helping you, must clear yourself from them, or 
sink into hopeless captivity. No dreamy imagination, no 
vague anticipation, no languid desire will ever deliver you. 
An intention which looks to the future, is only an acknow 
ledgment of present indecision — a moral inability now to 
«under cords which are becoming every day more inflexible. 
Seeking the power of the Holy Spirit, you must rouse to the 
exigency at once, and with all your might ; and this you 
will never do with a slight sense of your danger and guilt, 
with partial ideas of the claims of your Maker and your own 
obligations, and with superficial notions of the necessity oi 
a change of heart. You must feel that in your present con- 
dition you are lost ; that your prospects are those of irre 
trievable ruin ; that there is but a single way of escape, and 
that the present is your only opportunity. Without a final 
and fixed determination, made in divine strength, all is iiL 
vain. This will give tone and efhciency to your character, 
and the want of such decision will stamp it with perma- 
nent irresolution. No weakness can be greater than the 
failure to act out the clear convictions of your judgment, 
the enlightened dictates of your conscience, and the best 
impulses of your heart. "With this state of moral inertness 
will ever linger the consciousness of crippled inipotency. 
Your soul will not bound with freedom, like the lame man 
that had received strength, " walking, and leaping, and 
praising God." And the decisive step, %-/hich with the 



THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 9 

_ blessing of heaven can alone save you, is becoming every 
hour more and more difficult for you. It is hard to-day ; it 
will be harder to-morrow ; it will soon be impossible I Your 
progress towards ruin, on the other hand, is becoming every 
hour more and more easy for you. It is less difficult to-day 
than it was yesterday ; it will be easier to-morrow ; you 
will proceed with accelerated pace ; you will ere long reach 
the fatal termination, and your feet stumble on the dark 
mountains. Mournful at the last will be thy lost spirit's 
lament, " How have I hated instruction, and my heart 
despised reproof; therefore I must die without wisdom, for 
in the greatness of my folly have I gone astray I" 

Do your feelings shrink from such an end ? Eemember, 
then, that the way of life is still open to your choice, and 
now invites your steps to a happier destiny. The difficul- 
ties to be overcome will not deter you if you are in earnest, 
and a knowledge of them may save you from presumption 
and disappointment. You will see the necessity of not 
merely seeking, but striving to enter, and in the strength of 
the Highest you will press through all obstacles. You icill 
e7iter at once upon the performance of every hnoivn duty, 
with a penitent, cordial trust in the grace of God for the 
forgiveness of what is wrong and the supply of what* is 
wanting, and a hope of final acceptance through the merits 
of the divine Redeemer. If you are not ready thus to com- 
ply with your plain obligations, your prospects are discour 
aging and dark. If you are unwilling to discharge an ad- 
mitted duty, because it is humiliating and trying, or for the 
want of satisfactory feeling, or lest if you begin you may 
not persevere — if for any cause you are thus waiting for 
certain emotions and exercises, which you mentally exact 
of your Maker as the condition of your obedience and ser- 
vice, your position is truly alarming. I would not need- 
lessly distress you ; but in view of such reluctance and 
resistance, I feel that you have reason to be deeply con- 
cerned for yourself The passing hour may be the crisis 
of your eternal destiny ; and you cannot too soon despair 



10 THE SmifERS HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

of saving yourself, and desist from every work of self-riglil- 
eousness. 

If,- through the blessing of God on the truths novir before 
you, you are at length convinced that your situation is crit- 
ical, if your false security is gone, if you are conscious of a 
desire to enter the way of life, are anxious to know what 
you must do to be saved, I would fain direct you. And I 
am to offer no counsel which can fail, if heeded, of guiding 
you to heaven. The familiar directions which follow will 
bear this test, and I commend them to your most serious 
consideration. 

III. DIRECTIONS FOR YOUR SECURING SALVATION. 

Repent of your si?is. Look back upon your life, full of 
folly and transgression. Heflect that God is a holy Being, 
and that sin, as a violation of his perfect law, is the object 
of his infinite abhorrence. You are convinced of the utter 
wrongfulness of your course, which has been only evil in 
his sight. Not solely, nor principally, because you have 
incurred a just punishment, but because you have offended 
and grieved your heavenly Father, you should lament your 
Ufe of guilt. The recollection of sinful indulgences must be 
bitter to your soul. You must loathe and abhor the bondage 
in which you have been held, and exclaim with the self- 
condemned publican, " God be merciful to me, a sinner I" 
Form the steadfast purpose, with divine assistance, to for- 
sake sin and practise holiness ; cease to do evil, and learn 
to do well. 

Believe in Christ. Convinced that you are a gi'eat 
sinner, be persuaded that Christ is a great Saviour, Look 
upon the meek and blessed Immanuel, in the divinity of his 
compassions and the dignity of his sufferings ; behold the 
travail of his soul for you, and admit that he is entitled to 
your confidence, love, and gratitude. Knowing that you are 
guilty, and unable to atone for your sins ; feeling that you 
are lost and unable to save yourself, humbly ask for pardon, 
and gladly accept salvation as the free gift of God. Sensible 
that you can make yourself no better, renounce all self 



THE SINNER'S HELPS AND HINDERANOES. 1 1 

dependence, go to him in all your un worthiness, and ascriLo 
to him alone the glory of your conversion. Forsake every 
other refuge, to hide yourself in the pierced bosom of the 
Redeemer. Abandon every other foundation, to build on. 
the Rock of ages. Embrace the Lord Jesus Christ as your 
only hope and your only confidence, all your salvation and 
all your desire. 

Submit to the divine government. You have failed to 
recognize the righteous authority of a sovereign God. You 
have acted with reference to your own convenience and 
pleasure, and sought the indulgence of your personal wishes, 
irrespective of his commands. A regard for his glory has 
never been an element of your character, nor a motive in 
your conduct. You have murmured at his dealings and 
rebelled against his laws, and you must now confess your 
crime, acknowledge his claims, and surrender yourself to 
his disposal. Feel that you have forfeited his favor and 
deserve his wrath, and let your submission be unqualified ; 
leave yourself unreservedly in his hands. Cordially com- 
mit your interests, for time and eternity, to his keeping, and 
cheerfully conform to the allotments of his all-wise provi- 
dence, the language of your heart being ever, "Not my will, 
but thine, be done." Aim unceasingly to do what is ri^ht 
in his sight, adopting his law as the rule of your life, hon- 
oring him as your absolute Sovereign, confiding in his char- 
acter, and rejoicing in his government. 

Choose the service of God. You have wasted your im- 
mortal powers in the service of the god of this world ; and 
not having achieved the high end of a rational existence, 
you have the drear}'- retrospect of a misspent life. Reflect 
that you were created for nobler purposes, and devote your- 
self to better pursuits. Resolve that, whatever others do, 
you will serve the Lord. Heartily renounce the world as 
your portion, and choose the service of Christ as the employ- 
ment and delight of your days. Identify yourself with the 
interests of his kingdom, and gladly take the lowest place 
among his disciples. Let your only inquiry be, "Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do?" In humble dependence on divine 



12 THE SINWER-S HELPS AND HINDERANCES. 

grace and guidance, go forward in the faithful performance 
of every duty which belongs to the Christian life, and the 
careful cultivation of every grace which adorns the Christian 
character. 

You perceive, dear friend, what these directions involve. 
Comply with them, I pray you. Repent, believe, submit, 
choose, with all your heart, and without delay. I am at 
liberty to urge nothing less ; and nothing less, be assured, 
will meet your present exigency. Cease from the attempt 
to make a saviour of your own exercises and feelings, and 
confide yourself to Him who hath died for you, relying on 
his atonement for pardon, on his righteousness for justifica- 
tion, and on the promised aid of his Spirit for strength in 
the discharge of duty. Let this be the hour of your 
solemn 

SELF-CONSE CHAT ION. 

" Almighty God, I come to thee as a sinner. My con- 
science tells me that thou art righteous, and that I am 
guilty. I have destroyed myself, and without thy mercy I 
am for ever undone. But with thee is forgiveness ; may 
it be extended to the chief of sinners. I have no claim 
upon thee ; my condemnation is just ; I plead only the 
merits of thy Son ; for his sake pity and pardon me. Let 
thy Holy Spirit enlighten my understanding, sanctify my 
heart, and control my life. I heed not the world ; thou, 
Christ, art all I want. Ivlake me a monument of thy vic- 
torious love — a sinner saved by grace. Employ me as a 
blest instrument of thy glory. To thy service I freely 
devote my faculties, powers, and possessions. I cleave to 
thee as my chief good, and with help from on high will 
love thee supremely, and obey thee faithfully. Strengthen 
me to do thy will. Enable me to keep this sacred engage- 
ment to the end. Let me be thine alone, now and ever; 
and thine shall be all the praise. Amen." 



I\o. 528 

MICK HEALY, 

THE BIBLE-READER. 



Mick Healy was a native of the county of Meath, Ireland. 
His parents were not rich, but they were respectable. His 
father held a small farm, to wliich, at his decease, Mick suc- 
ceeded. He cultivated the few acres of which the farm 
consisted, regularly paid his rent, and by great industry and 
economy was able to provide for himself and his family. 
He had the good- will and respect of his neighbors, and lived 
in tolerable comfort. He was a strict Roman-catholic, went 
regularly to his place of worship, and perform.ed his devotions 
with becoming respect. He went to confession, and punctu- 
ally paid his dues. He had the approbation of his priest, and 
was*looked upon by every one as a faithful son of the church. 

Thus things went on during fifty years of Mick's life, 
when one day being detained in the house by rain, he em- 
ployed himself for a time in rummaging an old trunk which 
had belonged to his father. In turning over some old pa- 
pers which the trunk contained, he lighted on the fragment 
of a book ; he took it out and read a few pages, and then 
carefully consigned it to the trunk again. The day cleared 
up, and he went out to his work. On each succeeding wet 
day, and at every leisure hour that he had, he visited the 
trunk, took out the fragment, and resumed his reading. 
His mind was arrested both by the nature and novelty of 
what he read. He was alarmed and then tranquillized ; he 
was depressed and then elevated. He could not account for 
the emotions which he felt. The more he read the fragment 
the more he wished to read it ; he became deeply interested in 
the subject of it. He read it now not only on wet days, and 

at leisure hours on other days, but devoted his Sundays after 

2# 



*^ MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE-READER. 

mass to the same pursuit ; and that he might enjoy the plea- 
sure with the least interruption, he was in the habit pf 
going out ever}^ Sunday to the back of the hedge, and poring 
over its pages for hours together. During all this time he 
had not the slightest notion what the book was, with which 
he was so much delighted. It was, in truth, only the frag- 
ment of a book, and had neither title-page nor inscription. 

When he was engaged, one sunny day, in this his favorite 
recreation, the Roman-catholic schoolmaster of the parish 
happened to pass by. As Mick was an acquaintance of his, 
he' came over to speak to him. He gave him the usual sal- 
utation ; and as he cast his more experienced eye on the 
pages which Mick was reading, he exclaimed, " Ah, Mick, 
you are reading the Bible — you are a swaddler, and I will 
tell the priest." *' The Bible, indeed !" said Mick ; "it is. 
only an old book of my father's that I am reading." *' Oh, 
I know well that it is the Bible," said the schoolmaster, 
" and if you don't stop reading it, I will tell the priest." 
" I don't care to whom you tell it," said Mick ; " it was my 
father's book, and I will read it in spite of any one as long 
as I like." The schoolmaster was horrified, and that he 
might not appear to countenance such conduct, he lost no 
time in informing the priest how he had found Mick Healy 
employed. 

The priest was speedily at Mick's house. " What is this 
I hear of you ?" said he ; "I am sorry to hear it of your 
father's son." " What is the bad thing you have heard 
of me ?" replied Mick. " Why, the schoolmaster tells me 
you are become a Bible-reader, and sure you will not bring 
disgrace upon your family, and bring a scandal on the par- 
ish?" "Oh, never mind him," said Mick; "it is only an 
old book of my father's, which I found in the trunk, that 1 
be reading." " How long have you been reading it ?" said 
the priest. " Only about a year," said Mick. " Show it to 



MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE -RE ADER. 3 

me," said the priest, alarmed at the length of time the mis- 
chief had been working. Mick proceeded to the trunk, and 
producing the fragment, handed it to him. '* Sure enough," 
said the priest, as he looked through the pages, "it is the 
liible, and, Mick, you must not read it any more ; it is not 
fit for you. If you have not great learning, like the clergy, 
you may take a wrong meaning out of it, and it might make 
a heretic of you." 

Mick, taking the book out of the priest's hands, said, 
" Oh, it wont do me any harm ; it does my heart good to 
read it ; I never met any book like it : if it does not make 
me better, I am sure it wont make me a worse man." The 
priest, suspecting perhaps that if he did not get the book 
out of Mick's hands, he might get no money out of Mick's 
pocket, said, in a mild tone, " Oh, Mick, you must not 
keep it at all ; it is not safe for you to have it ; give it 
to me, and as it was your father's, I will keep it, and take 
care of it for you." "Is it give you my father's book?" 
said Mick ; ** indeed, please your reverence, I will do no such 
thing; I can keep it and take care of it myself." The 
priest's tone was now changed ; all his efforts to get it from 
him by coaxing were in vain. Mick would not part with 
his inheritance. The priest stormed ; Mick was calm, which, 
no doubt, was very provoking. He held it in his hand, and, 
looking at it as if his bowels yearned upon it, he said, "And 
is this the Bible ? But sure it wants a piece here," turning 
to the first page of his fragment, which was in the middle 
of Exodus ; " and sure it wants a piece there," turning to 
the last page, which was part of the prophet Daniel. 
•* 'WTiere could I get the pieces ? Will you give them to 
me, or tell where I can find them ?" This did not quiet the 
priest much ; this cool confidence rather inflamed him. In 
an angry tone he refused to comply. Mick, in all sincerity, 
anxious only for tlie book, and without meaning any oflencc, 



4 MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE -RE ADE R. 

calmly urged his request. This made matters worse ; it 
v/as adding fuel to the fire ; it flamed the more ; yet what 
could be done ? longer delay might end in worse defeat. 
To avoid this, and to prepare for another mode of attack, the 
priest left the house, hut in the worst possible humor, while 
Mick very composedly remained, and quietly sat down to read. 

It was soon noised abroad that Mick Healy read the 
Bible, that he would not give it up for the priest, and that 
he was become a Protestant. The people shrunk from him 
as if he had the plague ; they shunned his company with the 
greatest aversion, and altogether deserted his house. They 
were warned to keep aloof from him, partly for their own 
sake, that they might not be infected, and partly for his sake, 
that he might be driven to give up the Bible. But neither 
cunning nor coldness, neither frown nor favor, would mduce 
Mick to give up the book ; the more pitiless was the pelting 
of the storm, the closer he clasped the comfort to his breast. 
The coldness and aversion with which he was at first re- 
garded were now succeeded by threats and abuse ; but as 
he had incurred man's anger for God's word, he seemed to 
obtain God's favor by it. - He was now learning, like David, 
to comfort himself " in the Lord his God." The methods 
which were pursued against him seemed to produce an op- 
posite effect to what was expected. The conduct of priest 
and people, together with the knowledge of Scripture which 
he was daily acquiring, gradually cooled liis passion for the 
services of the chapel ; hm visits to it became less and less 
frequent, and at length they altogether ceased. 

He now heard, by some means or other, that a Protes- 
tant clergyman about twelve miles distant had Bibles, and 
would be likely to give him one, if he went to him for it. 
Accordingly he went there, and called on him. *' Sir," said 
he, *' I have a bit of the Bible, but I would like very much 
to have it all." He then took the fragment from his bosom, 



MICK HEALr, THE BIBLE-READER. 6 

and showed- it to him. The clergyman entered into a con- 
versation with him, and when he perceived that he had made 
good use of the part of the Bible which he possessed, and 
was really anxious to have the whole, the worthy man gave 
him a good octavo Bible, which Mick kept and read to the 
day of his death. Mick returned home with his treasure on 
the same day, having walked twenty-four miles ; but this 
was as nothing to him for the love he had to the Bible. He 
now became a thorough and confirmed Bible-reader. He 
struck out boldly into the wide extent of Scripture ; he felt 
himself in a new world, and new regions and new prospects 
opened upon his view. He was astonished at Abraham, and 
delighted with Joseph ; but the bondage in Egypt came 
home to his heart. "When he came to the New Testament, 
he was lost in amazement. He followed the " Man of sor- 
rows" through his wondrous history, from the manger to 
the cross. Gethsemane and the judgment hall, the cruci- 
fixion and the burial, each in its turn filled him with awe. 
He felt that he had been poor before, but that now he was 
rich ; he felt his heart dilating with love to all men. He 
would fain communicate what he knew of Jesus to every 
one he met. He could not, however, get his wife and chil- 
dren to enter into his feelings ; and his neighbors and friends 
would not come within his reach. 

At length, in 1829, he joined the congregation of Kil- 
sallaghan church, about four miles distant from his housC; 
of which the Rev. J. Gregg was then minister, and continued 
a regular worshipper in all weathers. 

"A class for catechetical instruction," says Mr. Gregg, 
*' assembled every Sunday in Kilsallaghan church, before 
divine service commenced. It lasted generally from eleven 
to twelve o'clock. At this Mick Healy regularly attended, 
and took his seat in the midst of the class. Between him 
and the children, the contrast in years, in figure, in dress. 



o MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE-READER. 

and in manners, was of course strikingly marked ; but in 
simplicity and guilelessness, the difTerence, I may say, was 
none. ' Often did he sit on the same seat with a lively boy, 
whose career has since been honorably marked both in 
school and college, and who is now a fellow of our distin- 
guished university. 

** Some of my most pleasing recollections of that little 
country church, its peaceful Sabbaths, and its quiet people, 
are connected with Mick Healy. Mick's controversial pow- 
ers were pecuharly his own. He had strengthened and 
sharpened them in the best of all schools — the school of ex- 
perience. In the class, he always held the Bible in his hands, 
which he never called by any other name than * the Book.' 
Mick was the familiar name by which he was known, and 
by which, in church and everywhere else, he was always 
called. 

" Imagine to yourselves, then, in a little country church, 
an athletic-looking peasant, in a large freize coat, with head 
erect, sitting in the midst of a group of children, a thick, 
stout Bible open in his hands, while some twenty or thirty 
of the friends of the children, sitting or standing in the pews 
around, were listening, with open ears, and eyes, and mouths, 
to what was going on." 

Q^uestions and answers to the following effect might fre- 
quently be heard from Sunday to Sunday : 

"Well, Mick, why don't you now pray to the Virgin 
Mary ?" " Because it is not in the Book." " To whom 
only should you pray, Mick?" "To God only." "Why 
don't you now confess your sins to Peter and Paul, Mick?" 
•' Because it is not in the Book." " Mick, why don't you call 
the Virgin Mary * refuge of sinners, your life, your hope, youi 
advocctte, and the gate of heaven,' as Roman-catholics do ?" 
" Because it is not in the Book." " Who is the refuge 
of einners, your life, your hope, and your advocate, Mick?"' 



MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE-RE ADE R. 7 

"The Lord Jesus." "How do you know, Mick?" "Be- 
cause it is in the Book." 

" Well, Mick, why do you, who have no learning, read 
the Bible ?" " Because the Book tells me to do so." " But 
may you not take a wrong meaning out of it ?" "I may ; 
but, by the blessing of God, I hope I will take a right mean- 
ing out of it." "But can you understand it all, Mick?" 
" No ; but with the Lord's help, I can understand enough." 
" Why do you believe, Mick, that God's anger is turned 
away from you, and that you are in his favor, if you have 
faith in Jesus Christ, without any merits or sufferings of 
your own?" "Because the Book tells me so." "Mick, 
why do you believe that every man who trusts in the Lord 
is blessed ?" " Because it is in the Book." " Why do you 
believe the Bible to be sufficient to make you wise unto sal- 
vation, without tradition ; that the blood of Jesus Christ is 
sufficient to cleanse you, without penance or purgatory ; that 
Jesus Christ is both able and willing to save you, without 
saints and angels?" "Oh, sure it is all in the Book." 
" Why do you believe that any poor sinner, at any time, may 
come to Jesus, and get pardon for all his sins, and peace with 
God, without help from saints or angels, or aid or leave from 
the church ?" " Oh, because it is all down in the Book." 
" Must every thing in religion be proved by the Bible, Mick ?" 
"Yes ; whatever is not so, is only moonshine." 

During many following years of reproach and persecu- 
tion, Mick exhibited the same Christian spirit, and main- 
tained the same Christian constancy to the very last. His 
honesty was unimpeachable, and with the exception of one 
" hour of temptation," he uniformly bore all the petty an- 
noyances to which he was perpetually subjected on account 
of his religion, with the utmost meekness. Shortly before 
his death, his son, probably urged by others, asked whether 
he would not have a priest sent for, to have mass said, the 



8 MICK HEALY, THE BIBLE -READER. 

litany of the Virgin, etc., or whether he would not wish to 
have a mass said, when he was dead, to get his soul out of 
purgatory. " Priests, Mickey," said the dying man, gather- 
ing up all his strength, " trash ; mass, trash ; litany of the 
saints, trash ; purgatory, trash ; praying for the dead, trash ; 
help of the Virgin, trash." Then he spoke of Christ and 
the Spirit. He said, " Christ was all and every thing the 
sinner could want." " I am," said he, " a sinner, a great 
siimer, and Christ is all and every thing to me." " Roman- 
catholics will be trying," said he, " to get to heaven their 
way, but they wont be able ; there will be a bush in the 
gap." This phrase is taken from the language of shep- 
herds, alluding to the difficulty of sheep getting into a field, 
where the only entrance to it is stopped up by a thorny bush ; 
it is commonly used in Irish to convey the idea of a difficulty 
that cannot be got over. 

"Are you happy, father?" said his son. "Mickey, 
jewel," said the father, " no king ever went to his throne so 
happy as I now am going to my Saviour, the Lord Jesus 
Christ." 

That Mick Healy had his faults and his failings, like 
other men, I have no doubt ; but as they did not come under 
my notice, I cannot mention them. His noble struggle for 
truth I deemed deserving of honor, and his consistency of 
conduct worthy of imitation. His short and simple history 
affords convincing proof of the value of the Scriptures, and 
a pleasing testimony to the grace of God. He had his sins 
and his sorrows — they are all washed away in the blood of 
the Lamb ; he had his foes and his fears, and his fightings ; 
but he is now " more than conqueror through Him that 
loved him." 

FROM "RECOLLECTIONS," BY REV. J. GREGG, DUBLLN. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT. SOCIETY. 



i\o. 529. 



A GLIMPSE 



THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 



BY THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON, 

Ni^TIONAL SCOTCH CHURCH, LONDON. 



FOUNDED ON REVELATION, CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

There can be no question that this description unveils a 
state of gloiy. It is a glimpse of Heaven — one of the fullest 
and most satisfactory which the Bible gives. Perhaps it 
may do us good to dwell on it. It may give us more lifelike 
and more homelike thoughts regarding those who have gone 
to it ; and it may make us more diligent in insuring that we 
ourselves shall go thither. All that need be said may be 
summed up in answer to these two questions : Who are 
there ? And what are they doing there ? 

"We speak not now of the original inhabitants, but of the 
Redeemed from among men ; and we ask. Who are there ? 

A mighty multitude. " A great multitude, wdiich no 
man could number." Not a stinted few — not a scanty and 
reluctant remnant, but a mighty host ; like God's own per- 
fections, an out-flowing and exuberant throng — like Imman- 
uel's merits which brought them there, something very vast 
and merging into infinity ; so great -a multitude, that when 
those who have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's 
transgression are added to the many saved in the thousand 
years of reigning righteousness, it may prove, in the long- 
run of our poor earth's history, that Satan's captives are out- 
numbered by the Saviour's trophies. 

A 7)iiscellan€0iis multitude. " Of all nations, and kin- 
dreds, and people, and tongues." For many ages, one nation 
supplied most of the inhabitants. Most of those who passed 
the pearly gates, had spoken on earth the Hebrew tongue. 
But Jesus broke down the partition wall ; and since his 
gospel went into all the world, all the world has contributed 
its citizens to the new Jerusalem. The Latin tongue has 



2 THE K-EDEEMED IN aLORY". 

Bent its Cornelius and its Clement ; the Greek tonjrue has 
sent its Apollos and its Stephen, its Lydia and its Phebe. 
The Philippian gaoler is there ; and there is the Ethiopian 
treasurer. All kindreds and people are there — men of all 
aptitudes and all instincts — men of all grades .and condi- 
tions ; the herdman of Tekoah, and the fisherman of Gali- 
lee ; the head that once wore Israel's crown, and the genius 
which managed all the realm of Babylon. And there, suf- 
fused with sanctity and softened into perfect subjection, we 
may recognize the temperament or the talent which gave 
each on earth his identity and his peculiar interest. David 
has not laid aside his harp, and there is still a field for Isaac 
to meditate. Solomon may have still the eagle-eye which 
searches Nature's nooks, and scans the infinitude of things ; 
and Moses may retain that meek aspect to which no future 
was anxious, and no spot suspicious, for every place and 
every future was filled by a Covenant-God. Peter's step 
may still spring elastic and eager on the sapphire floor ; 
while Paul triumphs in some lofty theme, and John's love- 
curtained eye creates for itself a brighter heaven. Blended 
and overborne by the prevailing likeness to the elder Brother, 
each may retain his mental attributes and moral features ; 
and in their magnitude, and the tinting of their rays, the 
stars of glory may difiier from one another. 

A multitude ivlio once ivere mourners. " These are they 
which came out of .great tribulation." To live in a world 
like this was itself a tribulation — a world of distance from 
God — a world of faith without sight — a world of wicked 
men ; but they have come out of that tribulation. To have 
had to do with sin was a terrible tribulation ; from the time 
that they were first convinced of it, and abhorred themselves 
in dust and ashes, all along through the great life-battle, 
contending with manifold temptations — contending with the 
atheism and unbelief within — contending with their own 
carnality and sloth, their pride and worldly-mindedness, their 
unruly passions and sinful tempers : but they have come out 
of that tribulation also — they are done with conviction, and 
the broken spirit, and the daily struggle, and the entire tribu- 
lation of sin. And most of them had sorrows of another 
sort — the tribulation of personal trials. One of them had a 
brave family and a splendid fortune ; but the same black 
day saw that fortune fly away, and the grave clo.oe over 



THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 8 

seven sons and three daughters. Another was a king ; and 
uis heir-apparent was his pride and joy — a youth whose 
Deauty was a proverb through all the realm — so noble and 
yet so winsome that his glance was fascination, and the 
people followed his chariot with delirious plaudits : but while 
the doating father eyed with swelling bosom his gallant suc- 
cessor, the selfish youth clutched at his father's crown ; and 
the old monarch fled with a bursting heart, to return with 
a broken one — for his misguided son was slain. One of 
them filled a place of power in a heathen land, and fidelity 
to his God brought him into constant jeopardy ; till, reft of 
title, and torn from his mansion, he was flung, food for lions, 
into their howling den. Another was an evangelist, who 
delighted to go from city to city proclaiming that Saviour 
whom he dearly loved ; till the grasp of tyranny bore him 
away to an ocean-rock, and left him to chant the name of 
Jesus to wailing winds and booming waves. And many 
others were " destitute, afflicted, tormented ;" but from all 
tribulation they have now come out, and are a safe and 
happy multitude before the throne. 

And they are a multitude wlio shall form an eternal 
tnonument of the Redeemer's grace and power — a multi- 
tude who " have washed their robes, and made them white 
in the blood of the Lamb." There was a time when their 
robes were not white. Of many the character was stained 
by sensuality, and earthliness, and sin ; and though some 
had little more than the dingy dye of the natural depravity, 
others were filthy with many a crime, and much positive 
pollution. But, in his marvellous grace, God had opened a 
fountain for human guilt, and filled it with the precious 
blood of his own dear Son ; and in that sin-purging foun- 
tain these ransomed ones had washed their robes. It was 
there that Abel, so amiable and innocent, felt it needful to 
seek a cleansing, and trusted to a more excellent sacrifice 
than that which smoked on his own altar. It was there 
that Enoch found the white robe in which he walked with 
God. It was thither that Manasseh carried his raiment, red 
with the blood of Jerusalem, and found it suddenly white as 
enow. And it was there that the dying thief, blackened 
with many an atrocity, washed away his stains, and was 
that same hour fit for Paradise. White is the uniform of 
glory the spotless righteousness of Immanuel. This is the 



4 THE REDEEMED IN G-LORY. 

only garb which a child of Adam can wear before the throne 
of God, And though the apparel of some may be more 
curiously wrought and exquisitely embroidered than that of 
others — though the hand ol' the beautifying Spirit may have 
made it "raiment of needlework" — the hue and lustre of 
each is the same. Every spirit in glory wears the vesture 
radiant with redeeming righteousness — the snowy robe which 
speaks of the fountain opened, and which will commemorate 
through eternity the blood of the Lamb. 

Such are the human inhabitants of heaven. But what 
IS IT THAT THEY DO THERE ? What is their employment 
and their blessedness ? 

Thejj celebrate a victory. They have " palms in their 
hands." They are what the second and third chapters de- 
scribe as " overcomers." They have fought a good figtit, 
and won the battle. Or, rather, they celebrate the victory 
which the Captain of their salvation has won for them. 
As the fifth chapter explains these palms : " Thou art 
worthy ; for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God 
by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, 
and nation ; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests, 
and we shall reign on the earth." It was once very like as 
if they would be worsted. The ivorld opposed them. As 
Amelek withstood Israel as soon as he knew that Israel 
wished to go to Canaan, so the world opposed the believer 
as soon as he set his face towards Zion. First the world 
laughed ; and then it frowned. First friends jeered and 
jested, and tried to rally him out of his religion; and then 
they looked severe. Ungodly relatives censured his foolish 
preciseness and fantastic scruples ; and ungodly comrades 
sought to entrap him into ridiculous or wrong positions ; 
and he felt so weak and friendless, that he was often ready 
to lose heart and give up this battle. And the Jlcsh opposed 
him. It fawned on him, and flattered him, and said, " Mas- 
ter, spare thyself" It coaxed him to be absent from the 
sanctuary, and to slur over secret devotion, and to make 
slight work of God's service. And again he was ready to 
give up. He felt that he had acted a part so ignoble and 
imbecile, that it would be more consistent to abandon his 
Christian profession altogether, and become once more an 
easy-minded worldling. And the devil opposed him. The 
great adversary filled his mind with fearful doubts and im» 



THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 6 

pious suggestions. Fiery darts were constantly alifrhting in 
his bosom ; and in the face of his most sober convictions, be 
would find himself questioning the most essential truths — 
the atonement's sutficiency, or the gospel's sincerity, or even 
the existence and perfections of God. Or he would find his 
heart dying away from the objects which once were dear- 
est ; rather shunning than courting Christian fellowship ; 
sitting with averted eye, or delinquent heedlessness, under 
the preaching which once engrossed him ; tossing aside the 
books with which he used to be so enchained and edified ; 
seeing no force nor fulness in those texts which used to feed 
his soul as with marrow and fatness ; and deliberately 
eyeing that same Saviour whom his soul once loved, but 
perceiving in him no beauty that he should desire him. 
And again he was ready to halt. " Am I not a hypocrite ?" 
he asked himself; " and would it not be more honest to quit 
the name, seeing I have lost the thing?" But while he 
was thus trembling on the very verge of apo-stasy, an unseen 
power came to his rescue. The truths of God, or the terrors 
of judgment, or the attractions of the Saviour, told on him 
afresh ; and, he hardly knows how, but he was constrained 
once more to turn his face to the foe. The battle began 
anew ; and though he cannot boast of his exploits, he was 
fighting when he fell. The SAVord of the Spirit was then in 
his hand — a palm is in it now. And he wonders. How 
Strange that such a dubious fight should end in such a glo- 
rious victx)ry I But here is the explanation: ''IVtoirsn't 
worthy I' It was thou, Captain of salvation, who didst 
shield my head in the day of battle. It was thou who didst 
uphold my slipping feet, and revive my fainting spirit. It. 
was thou who didst repel those temptations which 1 hardly 
resisted, and didst give me victories where I put forth no 
valor. It was thou who didst slay the foe that slew me, 
and by conquering death for me, hast secured that thy ser- 
vant shall be conquered no more. Thanks be to God, who 
gave me the victory, through my Lord Jesus Christ. 
Thanks for this vicarious conquest ; and thanks for thit 
bloodless, but blood-bought palm. 

T/iey serve God. *' They cry with a loud voice, saying, 
Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
the. Lamb." " They are before the throne of God, and 
fatrve him day and night in his temple." Adoration at the 



e THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 

throne, activity in the temple — the worship of the heart, 
the worship oi" the voice, the worship of the hands — the 
whole being consecrated and devoted to God ; these are the 
service of the upper sanctuary. Here, the flesh is often 
wearied with an hour of worship ; there, " they rest not 
day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, 
which was, and is, and is to come." Here, a week wUl 
often see us weary in well-doing ; there, they are drawn on 
by its own deliciousness to larger and larger fulfilments of 
Jehovah's will. Here, we must lure ourselves to work by 
the prospect of rest hereafter ; there, the toil is luxury, and 
the labor recreation — and jubilees of praise and holidays of 
higher service will not be wanting to diversify the long 
and industrious Sabbath of the skies. And it matters not 
though sometimes the celestial citizens are represented as 
always singing, and sometimes as always flying — sometimes 
as always working, and sometimes as always resting — for 
there the work is rest, and every movement song ; and the 
" many mansions" make one temple, and the whole being 
of its worshippers one tune, one mighty anthem, long as 
eternity, and large as its burden, the praise of the great 
Three-One — the self-renewing and ever-sounding hymn, in 
which the flight of every seraph, and the harp of every saint, 
and the smile of every raptured spirit, is a several note, and 
repeats ever over again, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Al- 
mighty, which was, and is, and is to come I" 

2 hen see God. "He that sitteth on the throne shall 
dwell among them." Or, as we have it in ch^. 22 : 4, 
" They see his face." Where the natural enmity is de-- 
stroyed, and the soul is brought really to love God and de- 
light in him, there will be times in its history when it will 
desire more fruition of the great I AM than it has ever ex- 
perienced yet. And when it is thus " breaking, for the long- 
ing which it hath" to look upon infinite excellence, it can 
sympathize with the exclamation of Augustine, "Lord, hast 
thou said, * There shall no man see me, and live ?' Then, 
let me die, that I may see thee." Or rather, it can sympa- 
thize with the exultation of the patriarch, when he espied 
afar off' his living Redeemer, and forgetful of his miserable 
plight, started from the dust-heap, and triumphantly ex- 
claimed, " In my flesh shall I see God I" And this is heayen. 
To be brought so near the perfection of beauty, that every 



THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 7 

competing perfection will look paltry — so near the Fountain 
of life, that we shall know no blessedness in which God does 
not form the largest element — so near the Light of life and 
the Source of love, that we can never more drag our hearts 
away : this is to dwell in God and have God dwelling in us ; 
and what more is needful to make it heaven ? 

They follow the Lamb. "The Lamb which is in thy 
midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them 
unto living fountains of waters." Even in heaven some- 
thing of the mediatorial economy survives. Even where 
they see God, they follow the Lamb, and a close and conspic- 
uous relation continues to subsist between the Redeemer and 
his ransomed. He remains the leader of his blood-bought 
company ; and while he prescribes their occupation, he is 
the immediate source of their blessedness. They have fac- 
ulties capable of vast expansion, an avidity for excellence 
which is now insatiable, and a susceptibility of sacred en- 
joyment which nothing can content short of all the fulness 
of God. And the spiritual food — the soul-expanding and 
heart-gladdening truth — the Saviour supplies. The Lamb 
feeds them. And in his care for them, he guides them to 
one well-spring of wonder and one river of pleasure after 
another. He leads them to living fountains of waters. The 
Godhead is a boundless sea, on which the thin island of 
creation floats ; and though the region be ever so dry and 
arid — a burning Baca — and though the object be ever so 
bleak and bald — a grim Horeb, a flinty rock — it needs Only 
the touch of the prophet's rod, and forthwith a fountain 
springs exhaustless as that divine perfection whence it flows. 
In that better country the Horeb never stanches, and the 
Baca never dries. The fountains play perpetually, and the 
waters ever live. And the Lamb is familiar with them all. 
To the woody brink of one he leads his white-robed follow- 
ers ; and in its fringing glories and populous profound, they 
read the riches of creative power and skill. To the melo- 
dious verge of another he conducts them ; and in the foun- 
tain of light which gushes high, and flings its rainbowa 
wide — in the balm scattered by its wafted dews, and the 
songs with which the branches wave — they hear it endlessly 
repeated, " Gpd is love." And to another still, he guides 
them ; and, simple as the margin looks, and limpid as the 
waters are, it dilates and deepens as they gaze — deepens tiU 



8 THE REDEEMED IN GLORY. 

it mocks the longest line, widens till Gabriel's eye can see 
no shore ; and in its fathomless abyss, and ever-retreating 
bound, they recognize the divine unsearchableness. In Par- 
adise every fountain lives, and each living fountain is a 
lesson full of God. 

And — just to complete the glance — tltere are some things 
tvhich there they never do. They do not want, they do 
not weary, and they do not weep. " They shall hunger no 
more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun Jight 
on them, nor any heat. And God shall wipe away all tears 
from their eyes." 

And now, if any of your friends have slept in Jesus, is 
it not blissful to know how they are engaged ? You and 
they once journeyed together ; but a sudden door opened, 
and your father, or brother, or child was snatched from 
your side ; and ere you could follow, or even glance in, the 
door closed again. But the Lord has opened a crevice in 
the enclosing wall, and bids you look and see. See where 
they are — see what they are doing now. You are in great 
tribulation — it is even your tribulation to be deprived of 
them ; but they have come out of ail tribulation. You often 
find it hard to reach the throne of grace — hard to prevail 
with yourself to pray ; they never quit the throne of God, 
but serve him day and night in his temple. It is only by 
faith that you can walk with Jesus ; they see God, and fol- 
low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. You suffer much 
from sickness, and languor, and bodily discomfort — our sum- 
mers are too sultry, and our frosts too keen — and you lose 
much time through infirmities of the flesh : tJieij hunger no 
more, neither thirst any more ; neither does the sun light on 
tliem, nor any heat. Your heart is often like to break ; be- 
tween the unkindness of some and the sufferings of others, 
you have tears to drink in great measure : God himself has 
wiped away all tears from their eyes. Your best frames 
and most blessed services are very brief There is only one 
Sabbath in your week, and that is soon gone. Their palm 
never withers ; their hallelujahs never cease ; their congrega- 
tion never breaks up ; their Sabbath knows no end. " Where- 
fore, comfort one another with these words," 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 530. 

THE ONLY SON. 



Soon after the Rev. Pliny Fisk and Rev. Levi Parsons 
left their mountain homes in Western Massachusetts, near 
the close of 1819, as the first American missionaries to 
Palestine, their young friend Jonas King, from the same 
neighborhood, was elected professor in Amherst college, 
and proceeded to Paris to pursue the study of Arabic \vith 
the celebrated De Sacy, He there became familiar with 
an American gentleman, then at the head of one of the 
first commercial houses in Paris, to whose care his corre- 
spondence was addressed. 

In February, 1822, the lamented Parsons died, and Rev. 
Mr. Fisk without delay addressed a letter to Mr. King, re- 
questing that he would meet him at Malta, and in the place 
of Rev. Mr. Parsons, accompany him as a missionary to 
Palestine ; and fearing delay by waiting the action of the 
American Board of Missions, he in the same enclosure re- 
quested Mr. King's mercantile friend not only to second his 
invitation, but if possible to raise the sum of $1,500, re- 
quisite for his support for three years. 

Mr. King, receiving the letter in the merchant'^ count- 
ing-room, retired to his private office to read it. Oppress- 
ed with the weight of the proposition it contained, he 
spent .an hour in prayer for divine direction ; and hoping 
to gain further light as to the path of duty, sought the 
merchant's advice. He returned to the counting-room, and 
asked with deep solicitude, " What shall I do "f" Said his 
friend, "Go."' "But," said he, "what will become of my 
aged and infirm parents in America?" "I will be a son 
to them in your stead," replied his friend. " Then," said 
Mr. King, " I go up to Jerusalem, 'not knowing the things 
that shall befall me there.' " 

"Now," said the merchant, " sit down at this desk, and 
write to my friends Thomas Waddington of St. Remy, 
France, Louis Mertens of Brussels, Claude Cromlin of Am- 
sterdam, and John Venning of St. Petersburgh : state to 
them the circumstances, and that you are willing to go ; 
tell them I will give one-fifth of the $1,500, and leave it to 
their decision whether they will join me in filling up the 
amount." By the return of the mails, it appeared that 

VOL. XIII. 3 



2 - " THE OKLY SON. 

God had put it into the hearts of these gentlemen cheer- 
fully to respond to the appeal by enclosing each $300, 
making the sum required ; and Mr. King lost no time in 
preparing for his departure. 

A few months previous to this, Mr. King- had estab- 
lished the monthly concert of prayer in his own hired up- 
per chamber in Paris, which had been attended with in- 
creasing interest ; a large concourse assembled in the church 
of the Oratoire to listen to his farewell address and join in 
commending him to the God of all grace ; he was cheered 
in a similar manner, on his way, by Christian assemblies 
at Lyons, Nismes, Montpelier, and Marseilles, where he 
embarked for Malta, whence he proceeded with Mr. Fisk 
to Jerusalem ; and he is now the well-known, persecuted, 
but laborious and successful missionary at Athens. 

His friend the merchant, from time to time, Avrote to 
the solitary parents, enclosing some tokens of regard " from 
their affectionate son ;" the next year he returned to Amer- 
ica; and early in the spring of 1824 he was at Northamp- 
ton, about twenty-five miles from the parents, meditating 
a visit to their humble abode. He applied to the landlord, 
who furnished him a wagon with his little son for a driver ; 
and freighted with a bag of groceries which extended the 
whole length of the wagon, they set off early in the morn- 
ing; and after encountering snow-drifts and other obsta- 
cles by the way, arrived at the cottage about two in the 
afternoon. 

Leaving the lad with the wagon in the street, the gen- 
tleman knocked, saying as he entered, " It is a chill, un- 
comfortable day, friends ; would you be so kind as to allow 
a stranger to warm himself a little by your fire ?" He was 
welcomed and seated between the aged couple, in whom 
he distinctly recognized the features of their son Jonas, and 
they in turn fixed on him a scrutinizing eye. After a 
short pause he said deliberately, 

"I once had a friend who said to me, 'What shall I 
do''' said I, 'Go.' 'But what,' said he, 'will become of 
my aged and infirm parents in America V I replied, 'I will 
be a son to them in your stead.' ' Then,' said he, ' I go 
up to Jerusalem, 'not knowing the things that shall befall 
me there.' 

Instantly the aged couple sprung to him, exclaiming, 



THE ONLY SON. 3 

".This is Mr. W ." and almost overwhelmed him with 

their tears and caresses. "Let us pray," said the father; 
and they unburdened their hearts at the throne of mercy. 

Scarcely were they again seated, when the mother 
took I'rom the shelf a new quarto Bible, saying, she hoped 
her friend would not blame ner for paying ten dollars for 
it out of the fifty he had sent her a few months previous. 
"Our old eyes," she said, "could not well read the small 
print of the other Bible. I told Mr. King I did not believe 
we could make any better use of the money, or should 
ever be the poorer for buying a Bible that we could read ; 
it is a great comfort to us." Their friend expressed his 
approbation of the purchase, admired the Bible, and be- 
fore he returned it to the shelf, slipped into it unperceived 
a ten-dollar bill; which she afterwards wrote him had 
been found on the floor when they were reading the Bible, 
and which she recognized as from the hand of God, hav- 
ing no knowledge by what means the exact amount ex- 
pended had thus come again into their hands. 

After a brief interchange of confidence and affection, 
she said to her esteemed guest, " I presume, sir, you have 
not dined, and must be in need of refreshment. I am very 
sorry we have not a cup of tea to offer you, but we have 
some nice ham and fresh eggs, which I will immediately 
prepare." Her friend remarked, " There is a bag in the 
wagon, containing several articles from 'your son;' per- 
haps there may be tea among them." 

The bag, with no little effort, was transferred from the 
wagon to the cottage floor, and the mother addressed her- 
self to the task of taking out its contents. Among pack- 
ages of flour, rice, loaf-sugar, coflee, chocolate, raisins, and 
other articles, each of which she held up with new expres- 
sions of delight, as received from one she so much loved, 
she at length came to a package of four pounds of hyson 
tea, when she held it out to the father with streaming 
eyes, saying, "Look here, papa, Jonas is the same dear 
good boy that he always was : he knew we were out of 
tea sometimes : he don't forget his poor father and mother." 
Then opening a package of Turkey figs, " And is this also," 
said she, "from Jerusalem? Papa, was there ever such a 
son as Jonas ?" By this time all hearts were overflowing. 
"Let us pray," said the father; and the exploring of the 



4 THE ONLY SON. 

treasures was suspended, while they again united in thanks- 
giving to God. 

•It was not long before the little company were seated 
at a well-furnished table, refreshed by the gifts of the kind 
" son," mingling their sympathies, and recounting all the 
way in which they had been led. While thus conversing 
the merchant affectionately asked, " Do you never regret 
the sacrifice you have made in giving up your only son to 
be a missionary ?" The aged father replied, 

" ' God so loved the ivorld, that he gave his only begotten 

Son, that tchosoever believeth in him should not 'perish, hut 

have everlasting life;'' and shall I ivithhold my only son 

from obeying the command of our ascended Saviour, ' Go ye 

into all the ivorld, and iireach the gospel to every creature?'"'' 

All present were deeply affected, a tear standing in the 
eye even of the young driver. They again bowed in 
prayer: both the father and the merchant led in turn, com- 
mending the little company, the absent son, and a sin-ruined 
world to the God of missions. 

The interview was an hour bright with the beams of 
the Sun of righteousness amid the dark pilgrimage of life, 
an oasis in the desert, a season never to be forgotten by 
any one of the four persons who thus met for the first and 
the last time on earth. 

That young driver, as he afterwards distinctly stated, 
here first had his mind impressed with the sacredness of 
the work of foreign missions. He gave his heart to Christ ; 
pursued a thorough course of education ; went forth to the 
heathen, and was no other than Henry Lyman, the noble 
martyr who fell by the side of Munson, in 1834, among 
the bloody Battas of Sumatra. 

The aged father, in his will, bequeathed to the merchant, 
for the purchase of a book in token of his love, the sum of 
five dollars, which at his death was paid to the widow for 
the old small-print Bible, which is still possessed as a pre- 
cious memento. The widow has entered into rest ; and the 
stranger passing a rural graveyard in South Hawley, where 
the scenery opens in magnificence and beauty, reads on the 
I tombstone of the father his reply just quoted to the question, 
1 whether he ever resfretted the ofift to missions of his ONLY SON. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. SM. 

■SAVING A SOUL FROM DEATH. 



"He that converteth the sinner from the error of his 
\vay," says the apostle James, " shall scwc a soul frorii 
death P 

Would YOU save 3. soul from death? God gives yoii the 
privilege, and rolls upon you the responsibiUty. Ii there 
is one sinner for Avhose salvation you feel solicitous<> — and 
if there is not, there must be a fearful shade over your 
hope of heaven — you may be blessed in leading that soul 
to Christ. 

Consider the encouragement you have to make an 
effort. How glorious the work, to save a soul from death; 
the soul, perhaps, of your dearest friend ! 

How much God has said to encourage you. " He that 
goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubt- 
less come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with 
him:" not the minister or the influential Christian exclu- 
sively, but "he" — any one. "God hath chosen the weak 
things of the world to confound the mighty." "]N[ot by 
might, nor by power but by my Spirit, saith the Lord." 

How much God has dojie to encourage you. He em- 
ployed a little maiden captive to heal and convert the great 
Assyrian general ; the trembling sister of Moses to intip- 
duce him to the Egyptian court. He made poor fishermen 
the pillars of his church. He made the scattered disciples, 
driven from Jerusalem, to go " everywhere preaching the 
word," that is, speaking of Jesus, sowing this precious seed, 
and thousands were converted. Within a year a little 
child five years old has been instrumental in the conver- 
sion of an aged sinner of almost fourscore, who had not 
visited the sanctuary for twenty years, simply by asking, 
on a Sabbath morning, " Grandpa, don't you go to church 'r" 

Are you igiiorantl "God hath chosen the foolish 
things of the world to confound the wise." Do you re- 
member the aged infidel who had resisted all arguments 
from books and pulpits, but was finally subdued by over- 
hearing the prayer of his own poor slave ? 

Are you yowng? I could tell you of a daughter of 
fifteen who embraced the Saviour in a family where father, 



2 ^ SAVING A SOUL FUOM DEATH. 

mother, and six brothers and sisters were all impenitent, 
and the father a bitter opposer. For weeks she meekly en- 
dured the derision of the whole family; but at length God 
heard her prayer, and that wicked father and every other 
member of the family were hopefully converted to God. 

Do you still doubt, and say with Moses, " I am not 
eloquent ?" All the eloquence you need is a heart of faith 
and love. Look in with me upon that dying mother in 
yonder cottage. Listen. You hear her say, " Now, Lord, 
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes 
have seen thy salvation. My work is done. I have not 
another thing to ask." She has a posterity of eighty-three 
souls, and every one of them over ten years of age is hope- 
fully a Christian. I knew her when she was the only pro- 
fessor in the whole circle, and her heart was rent by hav- 
ing an intemperate husband; yet she lived to see them 
all converted, and mainly through her influence. She 
could not speak for Christ; but she could live for him, and 
die for him, and here was eloquence. I know it well, for 
that mother was my mother. At her knee I learned my 
infant prayer, and at her feet in glory I would love to sit. 
Many a weary day she sowed in tears, but she is reaping 
in joy. Dear friend, lay aside all fears and excuses. By 
the grace of God you need not be saved alone. You may 
bring shevvves with you. 

Do you ask, " Mow shall I. save a soul from death ?" I 
answer, 

L Let your own soul be deeply imbued with its impor- 
tance. Seek a baptism from heaven. Let the fire of di- 
vine love be kindled in your bosom. Roll up the curtain, 
and look in upon that vast eternity where you and these 
perishing souls will soon appear. Then make it your set- 
tled aim to guide iliesc soids to Christ. 

2. Consider your work. Every one has an appropriate 
sphere. Who are about you, over whom you can exert an 
influence ? When the wall of Jerusalem was to be built, 
" every one built over against his own house.'" So in the 
spiritual Jerusalem, God has set men in families, and estab- 
lished the strong bonds of social aflection, that one may 
save another. " What knowest thou, wife, whether thou 
shalt save thy husband ?" Consider in what way your 
impenitent friend may be influenced ; by entreaty, argu- 



SAVING A SOUL FHOM DEATH. 3 

mcnt, a silent tear, an appropriate tract, or persuasion to 
tie house of God. Having surveyed the fickl, and fixed 
upon the individuals for whom God in his providence calls 
you to labor, 

3. Fix your heart upon, and direct your efforts to, tkcir 
conversion. Do not speak to them merely to relieve your 
conscience of a sense of duty. Do not aim merely to in- 
struct, to correct an error, to produce an emotion or a tear, 
but, by divine aid, to convert. Count nothing done till your 
friend is born of the Spirit. Indeed, injury is oftentimes 
done to the soul by alarming, and then leaving it to sink 
into a state of indifference. 

4. Equip yourself for the work. Select and marK appro- 
priate passages of Scripture. Lay in a store of appropriate 
tracts. Gather up the history of the individuals for whom 
you would labor, and recall as many interesting instances 
of awakening and conversion as you can. 

5. Enter calmly, but earnestly and perseveringly upon 
the work. Spread the case before God. Fervent, effectual 
prayer at every step is essential to your success. Bring 
forth your stores of truth adapted to the several conditions. 

For the thonglitless, speak or write with great tender- 
ness of their danger, ingratitude, and guilt. Give them some 
such tract as Baxters Call ; Heaven Lost ; The Worth of the 
Soul; For Ever; The Lost Soul; The Day of Trial. Call 
their attention to some such passages of Scripture as Luke 
12:10-21; 20:9-18; Psalm 34 : 16-21 ; Prov. 29:1; 
Matt. 10 : 28 ; Luke 16 : 19-31 ; 2 Thess. 1 : 6-10. And 
be sure to obtain from them a promise to read and reflect 
upon them. If you cannot gain this point at the first in- 
terview, try again, and press it with a heart overflowing 
with anxiety and love, and you may expect to succeed. 

If your friend is already awakened, or when the Spirit 
of God has rendered your efforts the means of awakening, 
endeavor to impress upon the conscience a deep sense of 
the wickedness of the heart, and the entire ruin in which 
the sinner is involved. Scripture: Luke 16 ; Isa. 1 and 5; 
Rom. 8:7: Psalm 10:4; Matt. 21:33; 22:2; Jer. 2: 19. 
Tracts : Gluench not the Spirit ; The G reat Alternative ; 
Have me Excused ; Eternal Life or Death 

Having brought your friends to this point, " travail in 
birth till Christ is formed in them the hope of glory.' Urge 



4 SAVING A SOUL FROM DEATH. 

them to a full unconditional surrender of themselves to 
Christ as a Prince and a Saviour, to rule over them and 
save them, that they obey his precepts and trust in liis 
grace. Encourage them to throw themselves at his feet 
with an humble and contrite spirit, and to lay hold on the 
hope set before them in the gospel. Direct them to such 
scriptures as the 51st Psalm; Isaiah 63 and 55; Luke 15, 
(Prodigal Son;) Luke 18: 13; Acts 16:30; Rom. 5:1; 
3 : 24 ; 5:6; and such tracts as, The Door was Shut ; What 
is it to Believe in Christ? Sinner directed to the Saviour; 
The Way to be Saved ; What must I Do ? The Act of Faith ; 
Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ ; Self-dedication to G od. 

hi these latter stages, all desire for concealment is often 
overcome, and you may safely and advantageously call in 
the assistance of your pastor or some experienced Christian 
friend ; but in the earlier stages, the more noiseless and un- 
observed your efibrts, the greater the probability of success ; 
and always, the more evident your disinterested CJiristian 
love and tenderness, the easier will it be to fmd access to the 
heart. "Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as 
doves." Avoid exciting unnecessary prejudice or hostility ; 
but shrink from no faithful effort through fear of ofiending. 

Dear Christian friend, will you make the effort ? If so, 
delay not. Enter noiv upon it. And to avoid the danger 
of forgetfulness or nf gleet, it would be well to have a card 
suspended where you will see it when you rise, with these 
inquiries written on it, and spaces for replies in pencil, that 
can be erased, and others substituted : 

1. Whom of my impenitent friends shall I see to-day? 

2. What is the probable state of their mind ? 

3. W^hat shall I say, or to what tract or scripture shall 
I ask their attention ? 

4. To whom shall I write, and on what points ? 

5. Wliat printed truth shall I stud them .' 

6. How shall I order my deportment so as to enforce 
these truths upon the minds and conscience of my friends ? 

Then bring them to God in the arms of believing prayer, 
and, bj his grace, you shall save many snulsfrom death. 

At night inquire, " How have I discharged the duties of 
the day ?"' And commend all once more to God. 

rUKLlSHED EY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 333. 

YOUR PLACE m CHURCH IS EMPTY. 



"' And Jicol) awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord w 
in thirf place; and 1 knew it not." Gen. 2S : 16. 

YouK, place in church is empty. Sabbath after Sat- 
bath your seat in the house of God has not been filled. 
There his people are gathered together ; his ministers are 
there ; above all, he is there himself, fulfilling his own word, 
" Where two or three are gathered together in my name, 
there am I in the midst of them." Matt. 18 : 20. But 
you are not there. 

God lias sent for you to come to his house. It is not of 
man's ordering that there should be churches built, and 
service in them every Lord's-day. Who but God himself 
commands us to keep holy the Sabbath ? " Keep the Sab- 
bath-day to sanctify it, as the Lord thy God hath com- 
manded thee." Deut. 5:12. And how shall it be sanc- 
tified without gathering *' the inhabitants of the land into 
'the house of the Lord our God ?" Joel 1 : 14. Is it not 
God's word which says, "Not forsaking the asserribling of 
ourselves together, as the manner of some is ?" Heb. 1 :^25. 
In the days of old, when God would send a message to his 
people, did he not say to his prophet, " Stand in the gate of 
the Lord's house, and proclaim there this word, Hear the 
word of the Lord, all ye of Judah, that enter in at these 
gates to worship the Lord ?" Jer. 7:2. And in the New 
Testament, do we not read that, when the disciples were 
assembled on the first day of the week, " Jesus came and 
stood in the midst, and saith unto them. Peace be unto you," 
John 20 : 2j ; fulfilling, before their bodily eyes, that word 
of promise to which we have just referred. Matt. 18 : 20, 
and which, from that day to this, he hath never failed to 
fulfil spiritual.ly to his church ? Again, is it not written in 
God's word, that it pleaseth him by "the foolishness of 
preaching to save them that believe ?" 1 Cor. 1 : 21. 
3* 



2 YOUR PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY. 

Your own heart tells you that it is God, and i>ot man 
whom you are slighting, when you neglect his house of 
prayer. The Sabbath-bell calls you to " enter into his 
gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise :" 
this is its cheerful voice, heard and well understood by 
God's people, who know and acknowledge "it is he thai 
hath made us, and not we ourselves ; we are his people 
and the sheep of his pasture." Psa. 100 : 3, 4. They 
gladly obey the call of their God, and their Shepherd's 
voice : gladly they say one to another, " Let us go into the 
house of the Lord," Psa. 122 : 1 ; and, entering that house, 
they take each of them the place where his eye is Avaiting 
to see them. But you come not to your place ! 

God has something to say to you hi that place. Every 
man has his own sins, his own thoughts, his own troubles, 
and his own wants. Go and take your place in the church, 
and see if you do not hear something which you will feel 
must have come to you from the God who alone knows all 
your si7ts — knows them as they spring up out of the impure 
fountain of a "desperately wicked" heart, in a way no 
fellow-creature can know them. Go and see if you do not 
find the thoughts of your heart so answered, that you will 
be constrained to say, " Verily the Lord is in this place ;" 
even that Lord of whom we read in the gospel, "Jesus 
knowing their thoughts." Matt. 9 : 4. Some doubt, which 
you had never expressed to any one, is cleared up ; some 
excuse for sin, which you had kept in the bottom of your 
own heart, is pointed out and shown to be a false excuse. 
Some fear about death and judgment, which you did not 
like to give way to, but which is still rankling there, is 
described, and you cannot but confess that you have it. 
Some perplexity about the right way of becoming redigious, 
which you know not how to tell, is told for you, in a way 
which shows there is an eye which reads what your tongue 
cannot speak ; and, moreover, the cause of that perplexity 
is shown, and the way out of it is put before you. Again, 
you have your own troubles and tvants ; " the heart know- 



YOUR PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY. 3 

eth its own bitterness." Go to your place, and see if there 
IS not something said to you which will make your trouble 
lighter ; or, at least, make you know that you ought to 
"cast your burden upon the Lord." Psa. 55:22. See, 
too, if you hear not there some promise, some ofier from 
the Lord of the very thing you need, and which you know 
you need. There God is waiting to speak to you ; and will 
he not mark your absence ? 

The excellent John Flavel, minister of Dartmouth, 
once preached from these words : " If any man love not the 
Lord Jesus Christ, let him be Anathema, Maran-atha;" that 
is, accursed. The discourse was unusually solemn, par- 
ticularly the explanation of the curse. At the conclusion, 
when Mr. Flavel was about to pronounce the blessing, he 
paused and said, " How shall I bless this whole assembly, 
when every person in it who loves not the Lord Jesus is 
Anathema, Maran-atha?" The solemnity of this address 
deeply affected the audience. In the congregation there 
was a lad named Luke Short, about fifteen years old, and 
a native of Dartmouth. Soon after, he went to sea, and 
sailed to America, where he passed the rest of his life. He 
lived till he was '' a sinner a hundred years old," and ready 
to die "accursed." One day his memory fixed on Mr. Fla- 
vel's sermon. The earnestness of the minister, the truths 
spoken, the effect on the people, all came fresh to his mind. 
He felt that he had not loved the Lord Jesus ; he feared the 
dreadful anathema or curse ; he was deeply convinced of 
sin ; and he was brought to "the blood of sprinkling." He 
lived to give every evidence of having been born again. 
Thus, when this youth was in his place in church, the 
word of God found him there ; it entered his heart, never 
to leave it, though it lay forgotten near a hundred years. 
" The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and they 
are life." John 6 : 63. Come then to your place, "heark- 
en what the Lord shall speak," and you shall fmd the life 
of your soul. 

But again, tJiere God is expecting to hear from yot4. 



4 YOUR PLACE IN CHUUCH IS EMPTY. 

The poorest man or w^oman on earth that enters the house 
of God, goes to the very place towards which the King of 
kings is looking, on purpose that he may hear their petition 
from thence. Remember that touching history of blind 
Bartimeus in Mark 10 : " Jesus stood still and commanded 
him to be brought ;" and then said, " What wilt thou that 
I should do unto thee ?" So when w^e go up to the house 
of the Lord, we are certain that Jesus is there and is put- 
ting the same question to each one whom he finds there. 
Sabbath after Sabbath " he hath stood still," over against 
your place in his house, but it was emiJty ; you were not 
there, to make your request to Him who is able to do all 
that is in your heart, and " exceeding abundantly above ali 
that you ask or think." Eph. 3 : 20. 

A mother gives the following simple narrative : " My 
poor son had no work. On Sunday morning the family ate 
their last bit of bread. After breakfast he put on his coat. 
His wife said, 'Why, John, you are not going to church to- 
day? you will go and try to get a bit of bread for the chil- 
dren ?' And he said, 'Why, it ia for that I am going there.' 
So he went to church ; and he said that when the minister 
read those words about asking ' as well for the body as the 
soul,' he prayed for the body — for he thought of liis wafe and 
children. When he came heme, he took the Bible and sat 
down to read ; and his wife said, ' Why, John, do not read 
that to-day ; go and try for a bit of dinner for the children.' 
But he said, ' Wliy, wife, it is /ier^ we must seek it.' 
Presently there came in a servant, from one of the farmers 
who had refused him work, and brought two buns and a 
cake of bread, and said her master would give him work 
the next day. And at supper-time a neighbor brought in a 
loaf for the children's tea. So he said, ' You see, wife, I wa? 
right when I went to seek it there.'' Oh, how he did love 
his Bible ! I have heard him say, he would sooner see the 
bed he lay on carried out of the house, than that should go." 

Now tell me, was the Lord far from the place in which 
tills his servant was that day ? Was he not, indeed, mark* 



YOUR PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY. 5 

iug it, as the place where he would receive the petition 
which he well knew this poor man was coming to put into 
his hand ? Have yoii nothing to ask of God — no wants for 
soul or body — that your place should always be empty ? 

God will remember every Sabbath he has given you, and 
every time he has missed you from your place in his house 
One day he will say, " Wherefore camest thou not to thy 
place neither on this Lord's-day nor on that ?" Not one of 
them wdll be forgotten of God. And what will you say to 
him in that day ? Will you tell him that you loved sleep 
better than the morning-worship, and idleness and sin and 
Sabbath-breaking better than that of the afternoon? Will 
you dare to tell him, as your excuse, that you were busy 
about the things of this world, when you know that it is his 
command that on the Sabbath-day we should rest from all 
those things, in order to give the day to him ? Oh, how will 
such an excuse stand ; pleading sin to excuse neglect of duty ! 
Must he not answer, " Will a man rob God? Yet ye have 
robbed me," Mai. 3 : 8, in giving my time to the world 

But shall I speak to you only of the duty of going to 
the house of God ? shall I speak only of the awful r'icdvd 
that is kept, of those whose place is empty Sabbath after 
Sabbath? Friend, I want you to weigh your excises in 
the balance of your own hajjpme&s : tell me, then. Do you 
choose well for yourself in choosing to stay away ? that 
I could make you know how much you might gain by being 
present, and then you should tell, if you had the heart to 
do it, what you get by staying away, and put it in the other 
scale. Christ says, "/am the Avay, the truth, and the life ; 
no man cometh unto the Father but by me." John 14 : 6. 
And what if, on going to your place in church, you should 
find Christ there ? Wliat if you should have the Holy Spirit 
given to you ? • What if you should be born again of tho 
Spirit, John 3:5; "begotten by the word of his truth?' 
James 1:18. Wliat if there you should be convinced of 
sin, and, finding yourself to be "wretched, and miserable, 
and poor, and blind, and naked," should be led to buy of 



6 YOUR PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY. 

Christ " white raiment," and " gold tried in the fire ?" Rev. 
3 : 17, 18, What if there the Lord should open your heart, 
as he once did Lydia's, "that she attended unto the things 
which were spoken of Paul ?" Acts 16:14. What if Je£:is 
should come and say, "Peace he unto you;" and all that 
great weight, that heart of stone, that load of sin, that un- 
happiness which has heen yours for years, should loe taken 
away? What if there you should discover "that way of 
life which is above to the wise, that he may depart from 
bell beneath," Prov. 15 : 24 ; the way which brings a man 
"peace at the last ?" 

Many, by going to their place in church, have found 
Christ there. I only say, "Come and see;" come to your 
place, and see what the Lord hath for you. It is that you 
may "win Christ," that I long with my whole heart to see 
you in your place at church. It breaks my heart to think 
that he is there, time after time, and so few in their places 
to meet him I I could say with the prophet, " Oh that my 
head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears I" be- 
cause, while the little band of God's worshippers are gath- 
ered together in his house, rejoicing in his presence, crowned 
with goodness and loving-kindness, messages going forth to 
sinners of mercy and forgiveness, his word coming wdth 
power first to one heart, then to another ; Christ revealed, 
now to this soul, and now to that — while all this is taking 
place, many are carelessly neglecting to come ; they have 
their place, but are not in it ; are missing heaven on earth, 
and heaven above ; choosing the pleasures of sin for a season, 
that they may earn for all eternity the wages of sin, which 
is death. what fruit will you have then, of those things 
whereof even 7ioiv you are ashamed? Rom. 6 •: 21. 

But before I bid you farewell, there is one solemn 
thought which I wish to put before you. The true church 
of God consists of every soul that has really fled for refuge 
to Christ, and has been washed in his blood and sanctified 
by his Spirit. " He shall send his angels with a great sound 
of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from 



YOUK PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY. 7 

the four v/inds, from one end of heaven to the other." Matt. 
24 :31, That will be a glorious church-going indeed for 
*the people of God, gathered together into the actual pres- 
ence of Christ their Redeemer, led in by him "through the 
gates into the city," even the heavenly Jerusalem, that city 
wherein is no temple ; for they are in the very habitation 
of God himself, "presented faultless before the presence of 
his glory with exceeding joy." Jude 24. This is "the 
general assembly and church of the first-born, which are 
written in heaven." No door will stand open there ; no 
bell will chime its invitation ; no minister "beseech you;" 
no friend say, Come in with me. Every saint will have his 
own mansion, his own place, prepared of Christ, John 14 : 2, 
and will enter into it — will go and "sit down in the king- 
dom of heaven." There will be no eynpty places; every 
child of God will have his place, and will be in it. No 
servant will come forth and say, " Yet there is room." And 
you, whose place has ever been empty in God's courts below, 
what will you do when you find there is none prepared for 
you in that congregation? 0, can you bear the thought, 
when you. remember that to be shut out of the church then, 
will be to be shut into hell for ever ? 

I should like just to remind you of a passage in that 
good old book, the " Pilgrim's Progress :" "I saw, also, that 
the Interpreter took him by the hand and led him into* a 
pleasant place, where was builded a stately palace, beau- 
tiful to behold ; at the sight of which Christian was greatly 
delighted : he saw also upon the top thereof certain persons 
walking, who were clothed all in gold. Then said Chris- 
tian, ' May we go in thither V Then the Interpreter took 
him and led him up towards the door of the palace ; and 
behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as de- 
sirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a 
little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book 
and his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that 
should enter therein. He saw also that in the doorway 
stood many men in armor to keep it, being resolved to do 



8 YOUR PLACE IN CHURCH IS EMPTY". 

the man that would enter, what hurt and mischief they 

could. ■ Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, 

wlien every man started back for fear of the armed men, 

Christian saw a man of a very stout countenance' come up 

to the man that sat there to write, and say, ' Set down my 

name, sir ;' the which when he had done, he saw the man 

draw his sword, and put a helmet ^<pon his head, and rush 

towards the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him 

with deadly force. But the man, not at all discouraged, 

fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had 

received and given many wounds to those that attempted 

to keep him out, he cut his way through them all and 

pressed forward into the palace ; at which there was a 

pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even ot 

those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying, 

'Come in, come in, 
Eternal glory thou shalt win.' 

So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as 
they." Will you not say, as Christian did, " I think, verily, 
I know the meaning of this?" 

And now, my friend, what more can I say ? I know 
that " though I spake with the tongue of an angel," it could 
be only " by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts," that your 
heart would be touched. Will you accept his message and 
come? 

"And while he lingered, the men laid hold upon his 
hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand 
of his two daughters ; the Lord being merciful unto him : 
and they brought him forth, and set him without the city." 
Gen. 19 : 16. 

Thus, my God, be thou merciful to him or h&r who 
now lays down this tract, and who, but for such grace^ 
will yet linger in the city of destruction : for the glory of 
thine own name, by Jesus Christ. Amen. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 533. 

GRIEVING THE SPIRIT OF GOD. 



As, in the providence of God, I have been brought into 
contact with thousands of persons who have told me with 
much candor tlie history of their own minds, and conversed 
freely in reference to the all-important subject of their sal- 
vation, I have thought it to be my duty to record some of 
the facts I have met, for the benefit and warning of others. 
That there is a point when the Holy Spirit, if wilfully and 
perseveringly resisted, ceases to strive v/ith man, no one 
doubts who believes in his renewing and sanctifying 
agency; but too many take it for granted that this point 
is not reached till the close of life, and neglect or resist 
the strivings of the Spirit till he gives them up to hard- 
ness of heart, and blindness of mind, perhaps many years 
before their earthly existence has termxinated. 

The first case I shall mention is that of a woman about 
thirty years of age, with whom I conversed in the presence 
of her mother. I inquired if she was a member of any 
church. She answered, " No." I asked if she had not at 
some time felt concern for her salvation. "Yes," she said, 
"I think but few have been more anxious on the subject 
than I was once." I asked at what period of her life this 
occurred, when she gave me the following account of God's 
dealings with her. " When I was about fifteen years old, 
I felt that I was a great sinner in the sight of God. Often 
my distress was so great that I could not sleep: and for 
three years I seldom had peace for a week at a time. I 
knew that the Holy Spirit was striving with me, and that 
I ought to yield my heart to his influence ; but I thought 
it would cut o-d' my pleasures in the midst of youth. I 
tried to banish the thoughts of eternity; but they would 
still return and interrupt my pleasure. I tried reading 
novels and romances; they gave me relief for a while, but 



2 GRIEVING THE SPIRIT OF GOD. 

my distress returned. At last I went to the ballroom — 
and I have never since had such feelings as before." " And 
have you no fears," said I, "that you have grieved away the 
Spirit of God for ever ?" " Yes," she replied, " I- have no 
doubt of that, and that I shall be lost." I proceeded to 
describe the state and misery of the lost, and appealed to 
her, by the prayers of her mother and the tears which 
were then falling from her sunken eyes, by the danger of 
an eternal separation from pious friends, by the glories of 
heaven and the agonies of the Son of God, now to make 
her peace with him and be saved. " All this," she calmly 
replied, " has been tried upon me before. Nothing that 
you or any other man can say on that subject, can move 
mc now. My doom is fixed." 

Another case was that of Mr. B , who was over 

seventy years old, and living an ungodly life. I approach- 
ed him with kindness, and at length he conversed freely. 
I spoke of the goodness of God to him in his advanced 
years, and asked if he hoped he had an interest in Christ. 
He replied, " No." I asked if he received the Bible as the 
word of God. He answered, "Yes." I said, "The Bible 
teaches that a man must be born again before he can enter 
the kingdom of God ; do you think you have experienced 
that change?'' "No," said he, "I never have." I saw 
that he was intelligent, and inquired if no " still small 
voice" had ever whispered to him, "Son, give me thy 
heart?" "Yes," said he, "often. I used to feel, but for 
many years I have not felt as I did when I was young. I 
then had some very serious times." I asked at what period 
he had felt most deeply the importance of religion. He 
replied, " When I Avas seventeen I began to feel deeply at 
times, and this continued for two or three years ; but I de- 
termined to put it off till I should be settled in life. After 
I was married, I reflected that the time had come when I 
had promised to attend to religion; but I had bought this 
farm, and I thought it would not suit me to become relig- 



GRIEVING THE SPIRIT OF GOD. -3 

ious till it was paid for, as some time would have to be 
devoted to attend church, and also some expense. I then 
resolved to put it off ten years ; but when the ten years 
came round, I thou<^lit no more about it. I often try to 
think, but I cannot keep my mind on the subject one mo- 
ment." I urged him by all the terrors of dying an enemy 
of God, to set about the Avork of repentance. "It is too 
late," said he, " I believe my doom is sealed ; and it is just 
that it should be so, for the Spirit strove long with me, but 
1 refused." 1 then turned to his children, young men and 
young women who were around him, and entreated them 
not to put off the subject of religion, or grieve the Spirit of 
God in their youthful days. The old man added, " Mind 
iliat. If I had attended to it then, it would have been 
well with me to-day ; but now it is too late." 

On conversing with a man in middle life, he informed 
me that his father was a devoted Christian, that he was 
faithfully instructed and his mind was early impressed 
with the importance of religion. In his youth, there was 
a period of six months in which he was in distress, day and 
night; and a voice within seemed to be continually saying, 
" P'orsake your sins and come unto me, and I will give you 
peace." "But," he added, " I did not wish to be a Chris- 
tian then ; I thought it would ruin my pleasures. I visited 
a part of the country where dancing and balls were fre- 
quent; in a little time my serious thoughts were gone, and 
I have never had any since." I asked if he did not fear 
that God had given him up. "Yes," said he, "I am 
afraid he has. I go to church and read the Bible, and try 
to feel, but I cannot." I strove to arouse his fears ; but it 
was in vain. I afterwards learned that he was pursuing 
his Avorldly business on the Sabbath. 

It is not for me to pronounce that God had said of all 
these persons, they are "joined to their idols, let them 
alone ;" " AVoe to them when I depart from them ;" but the 
state of allsuch is unspeakably alarming. If «uch is your 



4 GRIEVINa THE SPIRIT OF G-OD. 

case — if you have wilfully dashed the cup of salvation 
from your lips, when God by his Spirit was wooing you 
to himself — if you have persisted in saying, " Go thy way 
for this time, let me alone that I may have the- pleasures 
of this life," and have quenched the Spirit by resorting to 
amusements, the novel, the ballroom, or the theatre, God 
may have given you what you desired; but what have 
you now of all these pleasures ? Can you look back upon 
them with an approving conscience ? Will they bring you 
consolation in a dying hour? No. You have, even now 
in your own soul, if you would make the confession, the 
gnawings of the worm that never dies, the burning of the 
fire that is never quenched. You will have no excuse 
when you stand before the throne of the eternal Judge. 
He will say, I called, but you refused ; I stretched out my 
hand to you, but you did not regard it. 

But to the dying sinner with whom the Spirit of God is 
now striving, let me say, It is the most momentous period 
of your existence. It is perhaps the turning-point between 
heaven and hell — the songs of angels, or the wailings of 
the finally lost. seize the present moment, while the 
voice of the Spirit is whispering in your ear, " Now is the 
accepted time." Beware of stifling that voice. Multitudes 
have told me the dreadful tale, "I went to scenes of 
amusement, or turned to the exciting romance, and I have 
felt no anxiety since." 

awakened sinner, while the Spirit strives it is the 
seed-time of eternal life, the embryo of a happy immortal- 
ity. Sit not down to count the loss of sinful pleasures; 
receive the Saviour into your heart, and you will have 
pleasures lasting as eternity — pleasures that leave no sting 
behind — pleasures that will sustain the soul when on your 
dying pillow, when the last trumpet shall sound, and the 
congregated world stand before God. 



rUELISHED IJY THE. AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



THE 

FATAL MISTAKE- 

OR, 

THE MIDNiaHT SHIPWRECK 




But a short time since, the entire community was star- 
tled by the news of a sudden and fearful shipwreck. The 
bark " Elizabeth" was returning richly laden from a foreign 
port. Her voyage was almost finished, when, as she neared 
our coast, a violent storm arose. In the darkness of mid- 
night, as she is driven before the tempest, her officers mis- 
take the light on " Fire Island," for the one on the " High- 
lands ;" and steering as they suppose for the latter^ but in 
reality for the for 7ncr, the bark is soon dashed, an utter 
wreck, upon the breakers, and part of the crew, and all her 



2 THE FATAL MISTAKE. 

passengers are swallowed up in the waves — swept, as in 
a moment, to eternity ! 

It "is of little moment hoiv the mistake was made ; 
whether from erroneous calculation, or presuming confi- 
dence, or careless neglect of chart and compass. The. fact 
that it ivas made, is certain ; and the awful result, like all 
the realities of the past, is beyond the reach of prevention 
or remedy. All that remains for us, as we mourn the 
dreadful calamity, is, that we endeavor to open our hearts 
to some of the many lessons it so solemnly teaches. And, 

1. It shoivs that the sincerity of our belief, on any 
subject, is no proof of its correctness. Here is not an 
uncommon error, especially in reference to religion. How 
often, from sceptical or thoughtless persons, do we hear 
the assertion, "i^ is no matter ivhat a onan believes, if he 
is only sincere^ But alas, this fatal shipwreck tells a dif- 
ferent story. Doubtless the officers of that ill-fated bark 
were sincere in their terrible mistake. They honestly be- 
lieved that the light towards which they were steering 
was the one that would guide them to their expected port 
in safety. But did the sincerity of their belief prove its 
correctness! Did it calm the raging of the winds and 
waves, or break the violence of the terrific crash, or save 
from the jaws of death a solitary one of its appointed vic- 
tims ? And if sincerity of belief is not of itself an assur- 
ance of truth or safety in ordinary life, is it in matters of 
religion? If it is not a safeguard to the mariner on the 
deep, is it on the voyage to eternity? 'Jhere are many 
fahe lights in this world of error and sin. See to it that you 
mistake not any one of them for the true light — the light 
of divine truth as it shines in the pages of the Bible. Err 
here, and your sincerity will not save you from the ship- 
wreck of your eternal welfare — from the ruin of your 
hopes, your happiness, your soul! 

2. It shows that conduct is necessarily connected ivith 
BELIEF. It is often said, and here again. especially in ref- 
erence to religious things, that " it is no matter u'hat a 



THE FATAL MISTAKE. -3 

man believes, if his conduct is right." But this maxim, like 
the one already alluded to, is both false and dangerous. 
Would the officers of that shipwrecked bark have steered 
their vessel towards the wrong light, if they had not be- 
lieved it to be another ? Did not their conduct necessarily 
flow from their belief; and is it not self-evident that the 
former could not be safe, while the latter was erroneous? 
And as this principle uniformly holds good in common life, 
so it does in religion. No man can act right, who does 
not first believe right. All true morality must have its 
foundation in a true faith — all right conduct, in correct 
belief. No action is acceptable to God, or approved by an 
enlightened conscience, that does not spring from right 
principles. No stream can rise higher than its source — 
no water be pure, that flows not from a pure fountain — no 
action be right, or good, which does not spring from right 
principles : those of the Bible. 

2. We are as truly responsible /or our belief as for 
our CONDUCT. And for the plain and conclusive reason, 
that conduct is always connected with belief, and originates 
in, and takes its character from it. The two are so insep- 
arable, that to hold we are accountable for our conduct and 
not for our belief, is as unphilosophical and absurd, as to 
hold one responsible for the explosion by which he blows 
up his neighbor's dwelling, and yet not for the touch of the 
spark by which he fires the train ! So we reason, and just- 
ly reason, in common life. If the officers of that lost bark 
had made their fatal mistake through gross carelessness 
and neglect, they would have been held accountable for 
its fearful loss ; just as that druggist in one of our cities, 
who lately weighed out poison to a patient, is held ac- 
countable for the death caused by his mistaken belief, and 
is now in prison under indictment for the crime. And on 
the same principle implied in these cases, we blame our 
fellow-men for being uncandid and partial and prejudiced, 
and censure them severely for their ojmiions, almost as 
often as for their conduct. 



4 THE FATAL MISTAKE. 

But if thus responsible for belief in ordinary life, where 
we are so liable to err, much more are we in religion, 
where there is no need of mistake: — where the truth is 
plain from revelation, to all that ivish to know it-^so plain 
that even the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err 
therein ; and where God has promised to enlighten and 
teach and guide all that ask him. And for this reason it 
is, that God not only invites but commands us to believe, 
and blames us for 7iot believing, and threatens us with the 
liunishment of eternal death for our unbelief, and ascribes 
the fact that we do not believe to a tvicked heart. Rea- 
son, then, and the common judgment and practice of man- 
kind, unite with the Bible in declaring, that ive are respon- 
sible for our belief. 

4. Hoio important to be always prepared for death ! 
The passengers in that ill fated bark little thought that 
their end was so near — that the progress they supposed 
they were making towards their expected port, was but 
progress to eternity I And yet, as in a moment, they were 
summoned to the world of spirits — ushered, almost with- 
out warning or season for prejjaration, to the presence of 
their God and Judge ! Death may not come as suddenly 
to you as it did to them. But, on the other hand, it r)iay 
You have no sure hold upon to-morrow. You know not 
what a day may bring forth. At any rate, amid all the 
uncertainties of the future, it is the part of wisdom to be 
prepared. And the warning, alike from God's providence 
and his word is, that you p-epa/eNow. Now put away 
your sins by repentance ; now believe on the Lord Jesu? 
Christ; now begin a life of faith and holy obedience, that 
whether living or dying, you may be safe. Delay not at 
once to enter on the great work of life, lest, when you 
stand upon the passway of death, you find it too late to 
obey the admonition, "Prepare to meet thy God!" 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



!Vo. 533. 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE 



BY HEV. PARSONS COOKE, 

LYNN, MASS. 

Christianity is something more than a doctrine, or rit- 
ual, or code of morals; it is a life consisting in love to God 
and man. Love is the central and all-pervading element 
of Christian character. And nothing in the gospel aims 
more directly to nurture this life or love, than those pro- 
visions which make the pardoned sinner a giver of gifts to 
God. Here we solve the wonder that the Owner of the 
universe will have gifts made to himself, as though the 
silver and the gold, and the cattle upon a thousand hills, 
were not his. He has a great work to do in one dead in 
sin and selfishness — a work jiot usaally accomplished with- 
out long-continued discipline to benevolent acts. To bring 
the redeemed soul under the needful training to benevo- 
lence, the Redeemer takes the place of the poor, and makes 
the wants of a sufiering world his own, and causes his own 
voice to be heard in all the plcac.ings of human distress, 
and lays on every pardoned sinnt r the constraints of his 
dying love, to impel him to acts o!" love. For this end, the 
independent Source of all good receives gifts, as a parent 
receives gifts from his child to draw out generous disposi- 
tions. 

The feeling of a regenerate 'leart in giving gifts tc 
the poor for Christ's sake, involves that obedience, homage, 
and gratitude to God, and kindness to man, which form the 
priine ingredient of true religion, and which all the ends of 
religion require us to cultivate. Thus the wants of thib 
fhattered world serve as our means of grace and of prog- 
ress in love to God and man ; and the central purpcte, to 

VOL. XIII. 4- 



2 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE 

which all requirements of alms converge, is man's sancti- 

FIPATION FOR God's GLORY. 

This will more clearly appear if we trace out and iaj 
together the different branches of scriptural instruction, 
touching the duty of alms. 

1, The first of these is, that the giving of property to 
God is everyivhere tyiade an indispensable ingredient oj 
true religion. Fair as is the semblance of piety which 
some maintain without acts of charity, it is deceptive. A 
religion divorced from that which is the prime element of 
godliness, is making its way to a terrible disappointment 
From Genesis to Revelation, we find not a hint that such 
a religion is acceptable to God or profitable to man. 

In the first account of religious worship by any of the 
human race, we read that the fruit of the ground and the 
firstlings and fat of the flocks were offered to God in acts 
of worship. Nor did the typical intent of Abel's offerings, 
nor of those of the Hebrews afterwards, as foreshadowing 
the death of Christ, exclude^ the intent to exercise the 
heart to self-denial and sacrifice in the cost of the offer- 
ings. The whole sacrificial institutions carried as effective 
a warfare against human selfishness, as if intended for that 
alone. Hence David would not " offer to God that which 
cost him nothing." The cost of the thing offered was indis- 
pensable, because one purpose of the act was, to subdue 
the selfishness of the heart, while doing homage to the God 
of love. So the religion of pardoned sinners had its first 
exercise in a devotement of property to God. And this 
offering of property was a spiritual act — an act of faith : 
"By faith Abel offered a more excellent sacrifice." 

And when, after the flood, the new head of the race 
came forth from the ark, he commenced just such worship, 
m the use of property devoted to God. He had but seven 
cattle and seven sheep with which to begin the world, 
and yet he hesitates not to sacrifice one of each, as soon 
as lie ectB foot upon the ground. For after all his intimate 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. -3 

'communings with God, he had discovered no way of true 
religion which involved no cost, no sacrifice of selfishness. 

The first thing done by Abraham after he got to Ca- 
naan, and indeed by the other patriarchs whenever they 
moved and made a settlement in a new place, was to erect 
an altar and commence the worship of God by costly sacri- 
fices. Abraham sustained that intimate communion with 
God which entitled him to be called "the friend of God," 
by a form of worship that made constant drafts upon his' 
property. His special ratifications of God's covenant were 
made by sacrifices. His grateful homage to God in view of 
victories over his enemies, had expression in his rendering a 
tenth of the spoils to a priest of God. His training to acts 
of self-sacriiice must have been the school in w^hich he 
reached that sublime act of sacrificing his only son. By 
lesser sacrifices, he gained the strength of principle which 
could endure such a trial and compass such a reward in 
not only a son recovered as from the dead, but another 
Son who should be at once the Heir and Saviour of the 
world ; yea, and other sons, as the stars of the sky for 
multitude. 

When Jacob, newly awoke from the raptures of his vis- 
ions of God, was moved to avouch Jehovah as his God 
and King, he look the accustomed form of owning alle- 
giance while he said, "Then shall the Lord be my God' 
and of all that thou shalt give me, I will surely give 
the tenth unto thee." Whenever this custom of tithing 
began, it seems noAv to have become a standing law of 
Jehovah's worshippers. Jacob adopts it, as a fit form of 
expressing at once his allegiance and his worship. 

Notice next this same element of religion among the 
Israelites in the wilderness, while employed in building 
the tabernacle. This was done by the free-will ofTeringa 
of the people, hot because God had need of them, but be- 
cause the people had special need to hnve their hearta 
opened to benevolence, after all the soul-withering inHu- 



4 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

ences experienced in Egypt. The same miraculous power 
that supplied food and drink on desert sands for a whole 
nation, could have brought from the sands and rocks the 
gold and pearls for the tabernacle ; but while . the body 
was fed by miracles, the life of the soul must be promoted 
According to its own laws. And as God gave special skill 
to the artificers of the tabernacle, so he gave special grace 
to the donors, in order to break the crust of selfishness 
contracted during the declensions in Egypt. Hence that 
outburst of generosity in collections for the building, which 
even had need to be checked. These offerings were emi- 
nently acts of worship. They were made for the house of 
God, were called offerings unto the Lord, and were made 
in homage and gratitude to God. 

Not only the building, but all the ritual of the taber- 
nacle, made acts of devoting property to God a substantial 
part of religion. Over and above the typical import of 
these countless offerings, observe how they drew upon the 
wealth of the people, and inserted the cost of money into 
almost every act of worship, and secured a constant exer- 
cise of self-sacrificing dispositions ; and you cannot avoid 
the conviction, that a discipline of the benevolent affec- 
tions was a leading purpose of the Mosaic institutions. 
Here all must see, that the exercise of religion and the 
worship of God were inseparably blended with gifts of 
property. 

The revival, after sad declensions, which took place in 
the reign of David, carried with it a remarkable revival of 
this part of religion. It moved the whole nation to con- 
tribute the immense treasures needed to build the temple. 
No features of that revival have such prominence in its 
history as the alacrity with which king and people poured 
in the treasures for that building ; and God was most de- 
voutly acknowledged and worshipped in those generous 
acts. With one heart and voice they uttered this senti- 
ment, which IB the true source of religious gifts: ''All 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 5 

things come of thee, and of thine own have we given 
thee." 

In all Hebrew history, we see that the offerings of 
property to God were full or stinted in proportion as relig- 
ion prospered or decayed ; and they are currently alluded 
to as the visible exponents of thriving or decaying religion. 
David prays for a revival : "Do good in thy good pleas- 
ure unto Zion. Then shall they offer bullocks upon thine 
altar." And God pledged a revival in connection with 
the production of offerings that had been withheld : "Bring 
ye all the tithes into the storehouse, and prove me now 
herewith, if I will not open the windows of heaven, and 
pour you out a blessing." And when the people grudged 
the expense, and offered the lame and the blind, he spurned 
a worship that withheld the required cost ; and he said, 
I have no pleasure in you, nor will I accept your offering. 

Yea, so fixed was the principle which identified religion 
with gifts, that the Old Testament requires men to show 
fruits meet for repentance by them. " Break off' thy sins by 
righteousness, and thine iniquities by shoAving mercy to the 
poor." In the delineations of the character of a truly re- 
ligious man given in the Old Testament, it is said, "He 
showeth mercy, and lendeth. He hath dispersed abroad, 
he hath given to the poor ; his righteousness endureth for 
ever." " He that hath a bountiful eye shall be blessed." 
The acts of worship connected wdth fasting are made ac 
ceptable by acts of beneficence. The fast which God has 
chosen, " Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that 
thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house ?" Thus, 
in every way, the Old Testament makes religion and be- 
neficence to be so much one thing, that they cannot be 
separated. 

The New Testament does the same more eff^ectually. 
While it substitutes the offering of Christ once for all in 
the place of the costly sacrifices, it substitutes broader and 
more pressing occasions to draw out the generosity of Chris- 



6 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

tains, and discipline them to acts of love. Wliere the 
Old Testament required expense to foreshadow a coming 
Christ, the New requires a greater expense to proclaim his 
actual coming and redemption to all nations. The first 
recorded act of worship to the infant Saviour was rendered 
in "gold, frankincense, and myrrh." The first public dis- 
course of Christ emphasized the duty of alms, and coup- 
led it with prayer as an inseparable adjunct ; and in the 
beatitudes, it places the merciful in the same class with 
the meek, the poor in spirit, and the pure in heart. And 
it is impossible for language to convey the sentiment that 
there can be no true religion without gifts to God and his 
poor, with more force and majesty than it is uttered in one 
of Christ's last discourses : " Then shall the king say unto 
them on the left hand, Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting 
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels ; for I was a 
hungered, and ye gave me no meat." Let those whose 
religion is so spiritual and unearthly as not to touch their 
money, ponder this, and expect to hear it again at the 
last day. 

Because Christ's religion took such a hold of one's 
property, his dealings with inquirers and opponents had so 
much to do with it. His way of presenting his claims led 
directly into the money interests of the heart. It made 
Zaccheus say, " The half of my goods I give to the poor ; 
and if I have taken any thing from any man by false ac- 
cusation, I restore him fourfold." To the blind Pharisees, 
famed for covetousness and given to superstitious and hyp- 
ocritical washings, he said, "Give alms of such things as 
ye have, and all things shall be clean unto you." That is, 
bring your hearts into communion with God through bene- 
factions to his poor, and you will have opened the purify- 
ing fountains upon yourselves. When dealing with the 
young m.an who had great possessions, he showed him 
what he lacked, by putting the demands of the poor upon 
his wealth into the foreground of religion. And it was in 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE: -7 

this connection that he said, *' It is easier for a camel to 
go through a needle's eye," than for one who " trusts in 
riches " — that is, one who regards wealth more than G oJ 
and his claims on that wealth, and who therefore lacki? 
beneficence — "to enter the kingdom of God." This sen- 
tence is the doom of those, whether rich or poor, whose 
property stands without the circle of their religion. 

He enforced the same identity of religion and benefi- 
cence, by putting the multiplied riches of earth and the 
treasures of heaven at the disposal of those who surren- 
dered houses and lands for his sake. Indeed, through all 
his ministry are interspersed incidents and remarks to the 
same point. We have an instance, in his placing the high- 
est value on the widow's gift, because it had more of re- 
ligious afl!ection in it — showing, that the essence and value 
of a gift consisted in the religious act involved. Also in 
his commendation of the expense upon his person of a 
costly perfume. This was worth more than three hun- 
dred pence given to the poor, because it was an exponent of 
a more intense religious affection and homage. A volume of 
pertinent meaning is expressed in this : " Sell that ye have 
and give alms ; provide yourselves bags which wax <iot 
old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not. For where 
your treasure is, there will your heart be also:" that is, be 
careful about your use of your treasure, for where it goes 
it carries the heart with it, whether to earth or heaven. 
The same is involved in the parable of the unjust steward, 
the sentiment of which is, that by acting as God's stew- 
ards while we may, and giving to the poor as we can, we 
in efi^ect secure in the poor, friends who will have everlast- 
ing habitations for us when we fail and are driven out of 
our present houses, because in this account Christ and the 
poor are one. 

The truth that religion and beneficence are one and 
inseparable, was powerfully set forth in the PentecostaJ 
Bcene. Willing to test the generosity of the new converts, 



e RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

God had gathered thousands of converted strangers into 
Jerusalem, and detained ihem perhaps for months without 
their own means of supjort. Here then was a vast semi- 
nary of preachers for tho world, continuing steadfastly in 
the apostles' doctrine — Awaiting to be endued with power 
from on high, to go out and spread the flame which had 
bpen kindled within them. For the feeding of this multi- 
tude, large draughts were made on those who had property 
in Jerusalem. These fret;ly let Christ into their estates, so 
far as he had need. An 1 without renouncing the right of 
property, or commencing any community system, each one, 
for that time and occasi.tn, " possessed as though he pos- 
sessed not." So the first opening of Christianity, in the 
commencement of the dispensation of the Spirit, was sig- 
nalized by an example ')f beneficence fit to instruct the 
world, and one that is dei tined to enlighten all nations into 
the true nature of religion. 

Thenceforward, in sj reading the gospel, the converts 
are eveiywhere seen fre( ly risking or sacrificing property 
in proportion to the need of the spreading work, and taking 
joyfully the spoiling of iheir goods. Among no class of 
men has beneficence had such exemplifications as among 
the first Christians. And without hesitation, they said of 
those in whose religion it had no part. How divelleth the 
love of God in him ! Yea, they had such conceptions of 
the identity of beneficence and religion, that they could 
say, " Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Fa- 
ther is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their 
affliction." So full is the evidence, that they commit a 
great and fatal mistake who expect to be Christians with- 
out habits of beneficence. 

2. The next point of scriptural teaching about this duty 
is, that acts of beneficence are required for our spiritual 
good — for the exercise of our hearts to benevolence and 
our growth in grace. We are required to give, because *' it 
is more blessed to give than to receive." The redemption 



RELiaiON AND BENEFICENCE. -9 

of man involves liis recovery from selfishness, the essence 
of sin, by training him to benevolent action. Hence, as 
soon as one is brought out of darkness into marvellous light, 
a world in darkness appeals to him for his aid ; and all the 
wants of a world appealing to him are his means of grace. 
" The poor shall not cease out of the land ;" but it is not 
because God could not have made them rich. Nor does he 
need our help in feeding them. He could have made all 
human supplies as plenty as water ; and could have written 
his gospel upon the skies, and saved the expense of pub- 
lishing it. He lets the wounds of dying men plead be- 
cause they plead against our selfishness ; and while we are 
healing the wounds of others, he secures a more effectual 
healing upon ourselves. 

The general intent of the Spirit of inspiration in this 
respect may be well illustrated by one example, that of 
collections made for the suffering Christians in Jerusalem. 
About seventeen years after Paul's conversion, he visited 
Jerusalem, and was anew recognized as the apostle of the 
Gentiles, by Peter, James, and John, and then sent away 
with a special charge, that in his visits to the gentile 
churches he should remember the poor and make coll'fec- 
tions for them. In pursuance of this, Ave find Paul soon 
after in Ephesus, writing his first letter to the Corinthians, 
near the close of which he, as it would seem according to 
his custom, gave an order for collections for the Jerusalem 
Christians.. He directed that each one should lay by every 
Sabbath such a ]>ortion as he could spare, that there should 
be no gathering when he came. In this connection he told 
them that he purposed, after a while, to make them a visit 
and spend a winter with them, before the donation should 
be completed by them. About a year after this, while in 
Macedonia, he wrote his second epistle to the Corinthians, 
and stimulated them to this work by telling how generously 
the Macedonians had done ; and in this he alluded to the 

order given in the previous epistle, and the readiness with 

4# 



JO P.ELIGION AND BENEFICEKCE. 

which they had commenced action under it, and urged tliem 
to complete their good beginnings. He told them that he 
had sent messengers to them, to see how they had carried 
out his plan, and to see that their donation should be made 
up before he came, that it might be ready " as a matter of 
bounty and not of covetousness." 

Now mark how, in all that is said of this subject in 
the space of two chapters, the sufferings of the persons to 
be relieved, powerful as was their call for charity, are 
hardly alluded to, and the effect of the gifts on the givers 
is magnified. The giving is urged, because it is one of the 
graces of the Spirit, a part of one's self-consecration to God, 
a proof of the sincerity of one's love, and above all, an 
enriching of the soul of the giver to all bountifulness, and 
a glorifying of God thereby. The sufferings of the saints 
are so lost in the exuberance of other themes, as to be 
barely alluded to but once in the two chapters, as in these 
v^^ords: "For the administration of this service not only 
supplieth the wants of the saints, but is abundant also by 
many thanksgivings to God." The purpose to which these 
gifts were to be applied was one which had moved the sym- 
pathies of the Christian world, and hence it is the more 
remarkable that so little prominence is given to it. 

This shows that both in giving his order for Sabbath 
deposits and in this enforcement of it, the Holy Ghost had 
a higher end than the relief of that case of sufTering, and 
made that suffering a means of training the heart to benefi- 
cence and a point of light to illumine the whole subject. 
Because his great object is to produce the best results on 
the mind and habits of the givers, he so carefully provides 
that the streams shall flow without a forcing-pump, with- 
out urgent appeals to sympathy, and with the utmost spon- 
taneity. The gifts must be a matter cf bounty, and not 
wrenched from the fist of covetousness. 

That Paul makes tlie sufTerings at Jenisalem a pin on 
which to h.injr a document for the benefit of the donors and 



RELiaiON AND BENEFICENCE. U 

for the broad instruction of the world, appears in e very- 
glance of his thought and every stroke of his pen, as he 
moves onward to the grand purpose of the Christian's 
sanctilication for the glory of God. Hear him : " Let every 
one of you, as he purposeth in his he^rt," give cheerfully, 
abundantly. Why? "For Ciod is able to make all grace 
abound towards you." Yes, that abounding grace is the 
thing. Hear him further : " That ye may abound unto 
every good ivork,''^ that God may " increase the fruit of your 
righteousness." And then he tells of this bountiful ness 
causing thanksgivings to God, that God would be glorified 
in that the recipients of the bounty would see and grate- 
fully acknowledge in it the proof of the reality of their 
Christian profession ; yea, that God would be glorified in the 
acts of liberality themselves being intrinsically excellent, 
and in the prayers and blessings which would be showered 
upon the givers, yea, in longings after that exceeding gi-acc 
of God which the donations evinced. This completes the 
climax of his argument, and he ends all -in " Thanks be 
unto God for his unspeakable gift ;" for such thoughts of 
thanksgiving, generated by human liberality, lead naturally 
to that of the thanksgivings that will ring through a ia,n- 
somed world, and be echoed by angel- voices in view of the 
unspeakable gift, the gift of the Son of God, the source of 
all other gifts of God to man. 

3. Because the cultivation of the givers' benevolence 
and his abounding to every good work is the great end of 
the duty, it is, in the passage above commented on, and in 
other scriptures, so carefully guarded, that the gifts sJmll be 
spo7itaneous — that the mind shall Work under its own sense 
of duty and impulse of love. When Jacob dedicates him- 
self to God in the gift of a tenth of his income, the sugges- 
tion is seen to come of his own mind. The gifts required 
by the Mosaic institutions, definite as they were, left abun- 
dant room for the giver's heart to play between different 
degrees of generosity. So in collecting the materials for 



12 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

building the tabernacle, it was over and over again pro- 
vided that every man should ''give ivillingly with hi$ 
heart ;" and in the contributions of the immense treasures 
for the temple, it was said, that "the people rejoiced that 
they offered willingly, because with perfect heart they 
offered willingly to the Lord ;" and David, with holy won- 
der, gave thanks that he and his people had been able to 
offer thus willingly. 

This feature of the required beneficence has even more 
prominence in the New Tastament. Christ says, " Freely 
ye have received, freely give." This freedom specially 
ruled in the Pentecost revival. " Neither said any of them 
that aught of the things which he possessed was his own," 
though the apostles, the instruments of God's authority, 
acknowledged the full rig^t to give or withhold : "While it 
remained, was it not thint^. own ? and after it was sold, was 
it not in thine own power ?" So Paul would have the gift 
made "as a matter of bounty, and not as of covetousness." 
" Every man as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give. 
For God loveth a cheerful giver." 

4. Closely allied with this feature is another, that each 
one's ability shall form the ground of his judgment of 
tvhat he ought to give. " Give alms of such things as ye 
havef' that is, according to your ability. He that minis- 
ters, " let him do it as of tlie ability that God giveth." God 
is able to make all grace abound towards you, that ye may 
abound to every good work." In building the tabernacle, 
the people gave "as God had prospered them" with the 
spoils of Egypt. God hss named no fixed portion of in- 
come which it is the duty of each and all to give, for 
that would have made a tax and not a gift ; nor can all, 
in the difTerent circumstances of each, equally afford the 
same portion of income. 

5. Another requirement of scripture is, that our gifts 
shall he periodical : that we shall have stated and frequent 
times of giving, both because our habits and hearts are 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. ]3 

thereby better disciplined, and because we are really able 
to give more by frequent and small gifts, than by few and 
large ones. The ofierings in the antediluvian church re- 
curred at stated seasons, literally " in the end of days." 
Most of the offerings under the law were periodical ; and 
as most other religious acts in the experience of pious men 
have stated seasons for their performance, so doubtless, un- 
der all dispensations, pious men have had more or less 
regular periods for their alms. 

6. Still another feature is, that the alms shall have 
more or less connection ivith other religious exercises. Most 
of the ofierings to God or for the poor, under the Old Tes- 
tament, were formal acts of worship ; and in the time ol 
Christ, gifts were cast into the treasury at the temple, and 
tithes were collected at the synagogues on the Sabbath to 
be sent up to the temple. Every way, the first Christians, 
proceeding from the Jewish church, had been trained to 
connect alms with worship, and let their "prayers and 
alms" go up together as "a memorial before God." 

Thus we have traced out the several branches of the 
duty as taught in the Scriptures : let us now lay them 
together. 

1 . It is taught that giving in charity is essential to true 
religion ; that every one is as much bound to honor God 
by his gifts as he is to pray. 

2. Our gifts are required as a means of our spiritual 
good and groivth in grace, as the discipline to form us to 
a beneficent character. 

3. Our gifts must be free-ivill offerings, and must be 
made according to a system that gives scope to the utmost 
freedom. 

4. We must regulate them in our judgment according 
to the ability which God give" us. 

5. They must be made at sta/^d periods. 

6. They must be made m connection with our acts of 
wwship. 



14 RELiaiON AND BENEFICENCE. 

All these separate branches of the duty we find scatter- 
ed through the scripture. Then, in the order given by Paul 
to the Corinthians, we find them all joined and compacted 
together in one condensed formula, as follows : 

" Upon the first day of the week, let every one of you lay 
by him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be 
no gatherings when I corned 

These few words embrace every branch of the duty 
stated above. The first is involved in that the order runs 
to every one. The second, in that the deposits are to be 
made, not merely to meet emergencies and particular calls 
for them, but in a way to work our spiritual discipline and 
growth in grace. The third and fourth, in that the amount 
to be given is referred to each one's own judgment of the 
ability which God has given. The fifth and sixth, in act- 
ing on this subject on the first day of the week. 

Here then we have, from an inspired pen, the whole 
duty reduced to the simplest form and the shortest com- 
pass. Here is the multum in parvo — a compact compen- 
dium of all scripture on this subject, yet intelligible to the 
merest child, and sufficient for the man of the most exten- 
sive and complex business. It requires that each one on 
every Sabbath, or statedly at longer periods, set apart what 
he thinks he ought, in view of the prosperity which God 
gives him ; thus creating a fund devoted to God, out of 
which he shall meet the calls for charity when they come. 
This does not require the deposits to be made always in 
money. They may be made in such fruits of labor as the 
donor has ; or, when ready money is not at hand, by enter- 
ing it on an account kept with our charity treasury. It 
was doubtless intended by this rule, that those who receive 
the fruits of their labor weekly, and all others who can, 
conveniently do it, should make their deposits as often at; 
every Sabbath. But if any one, from the nature of his 
business or incomes, require longer periods, he may still 
retain a connection of the duty with the Sabbath. In the 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 15 

case of tlie Lord's supper, it was clearly the intent of the 
Holy Spirit, to intimate that the Sabbath was the day for 
the breaking of bread ; and the first Christians evidently 
celebrated the Lord's supper every Sabbath ; and if our 
present circumstances favored that practice, it might be 
well to do so now. Yet we do not consider ourselves bound 
to repeat the act every Sabbath, nor to confine it to the 
Sabbath. And if any one conceives that this rule allows 
a similar latitude of interpretation, he will answer a good 
conscience in obeying the requirement to connect his alms 
with the Sabbath, in a similar way. If one's circumstances 
will not allow of so frequent a repetition of the act which 
disciplines the mind to beneficence and calls forth the mel- 
ody of the heart in devotion, he is free to answer the spirit 
of the rule in such a way as he can. The rule is essen- 
tially an embodiment of the whole duty of beneficence, 
and he who obeys it in its spirit, fulfils this branch of the 
great law of love. 

With this condensation of all the duty in one simple 
rule, we have something to propose, which is as definite 
and simple as it is important ; or rather, we bring God's 
proposal to our fellow-Christian, or fellow-sinner, in a v«ry 
simple and intelligible form. We do not say, " You must 
be generous to the poor," or " You must give such and 
such a portion of your income ;" but we say, "Begin now, 
and continue a course of action on the line which the scrip- 
tures have so clearly drawn." We propose not a particular 
gift, but the beginning of a well-defined course, that cannot 
fail to educate the heart and conscience to the love of giv- 
ing, and therefore to generous gifts. In this simple rule 
and the habit of action formed under it, you have a trellis- 
work of divine construction, on which your beneficence is 
gradually to lift itself up, spread abroad its branches, and 
bring forth its clusters. 

Let us then commend it to general adoption, by speci- 

fviniT SOME OF THE ADVANTAGES OF IT. 



16 RELiaiON AND BENEFICENCE. 

1. The first of these is, that it brings our work oj 
charity within the Sabbath, causes our gifts to be weighed 
in the balances of the sanctuary, and our " prayers and 
alms" to go up together " as a memorial before God." It 
calls the mind to act on this subject when most suscepti- 
ble ; when disburdened of worldly cares ; when most free 
from aspirations for worldly gains ; when most engaged in 
contemplating the mercies of God, and the obligations re- 
sulting therefrom to make returns of love. It brings in 
substantial acts of love to God and man to modify our de- 
votions. It quickens devotional thought and feeling with 
the impulse of self-denying acts. It awakes benevolence 
in a heart already warmed to prayer and praise by the 
word read and preached, and thus secures both body and 
soul to our devotions. So in effect the temple of our wor- 
ship, like that of the Jews, has a Lord's treasury in it, to 
which we bring our grateful offerings while engaged in 
joyous celebration of the new creation in Christ ; testifying 
our grateful joy in acts, as well as words and songs. Gifts 
are the most natural language of a grateful heart, and 
they mingle well with praise for redeeming love. Yea, 
they arc as natural a medium of the soul's communion 
with God, as prayer. As devotion sharpens the mind foi 
hearing the word, so giving attunes the soul to devotion, 
and devotion touches the rock of the heart, that the waters 
of its benevolence may gush forth. 

2. There is a great advantage in the frequent repetition 
of the act, secured under this rule. If, as often as the 
Sabbath comes, the mind is called to exercise itself in a 
gift of property to God, or his poor, there must be more 
exercise of heart, a greater amount of thought and feiling 
about charity, than if we gave even in larger sums at 
longer intervals. If the great need and purpose of al) 
our gifts is, that we may be "enriched to all. bountiful- 
ness ;" if, in laying this duty on us, divine goodness has 
planned for the discipline of our spiritual affections, then 



RELIG-ION AND BENEFICENCE. It 

*lhe same reasons operate in the frequency of the exercise, 
as in the frequency of the exercise of prayer. The oftener 
we are called to act, the more we shall think and feel about 
it. And it is the thought and feeling that plough wider 
channels for the outflow of benevolence. It is the contin- 
ual dropping that wears the stone. Hence, ii any find 
it somewhat inconvenient to make the periods of their gifts 
short as the weeks, it deserves to be considered whether 
the advantage in self-discipline will not more than over- 
balance the inconvenience. Be that as it may, any reflect- 
ing mind will discern great wisdom in that which holds us 
to periodical acts, that tend to our discipline in heavenly 
charity. 

3. The provision that a iirivcde charity treasury shall 
be kci^t into ivhich the gifts shall he made before they are 
called to be given out, works important results upon the 
mind. It facilitates our doing the work " heartily as 
unto the Lord." It turns the direction of our gifts first to 
him. If we give for charity when there is no distinct so- 
licitation nor object of charity before the mind, God him- 
self is near us as the object of the gift. Our reference to 
him is likely to be more distinct, than if some case of hu- 
man distress stood between us and him. We come to the 
work simply because God requires it, and we need it. The 
Christian goes into his closet to pray sometimes, because 
impelled to intercede for a friend that needs his prayers ; 
but more often because he feels himself the need of prayer, 
and because he loves it. In both cases his spirit of prayer 
is promoted. But if he prayed only when impelled to 
intercede for another, there would be a fearful chasm in 
the discipline of his spirit of prayer. And if we give alms 
only when beset with the solicitations of distress, we are 
as far from an adequate discipline of our spirit of benevo- 
lence. Wliat havoc would be made of the piety of the 
church by annihilating all system, all regulated habits in 
prayer But who can say that we are not sufiermg pro- 



18 EELiaiON AND BENEFICENCU:. 

portionally as much by our want of system in this other 
branch of spiritual religion ? If our benevolence be left 
so much to casual impulses, it will undoubtedly remain at 
a low-water mark. 

4. This provision secures the advantages of beneficence 
to every one, if he ivill. " Let every one of you lay by him 
in store, as God hath prospered him." This assures us 
that God will look with equal favor on the small gifts oi 
the poor and the large donations of the rich ; and nothing 
m fact is more needed to move the masses of the church to 
action than this. Many are really able to do but little at 
a time — so little, that they are discouraged from attempt- 
ing any thing. But these, when gained to the practice of 
dropping in their little every week, soon find that their 
littles have grown in months to a sum worth giving ; and 
when made to feel that this little answers as rich a purpose 
towards the great end as the larger gifts of others, they 
find themselves engaged in a blessed work : a new world 
of duty is open before them. Poor as they may be, yet 
being asked to give only " as God hath prospered them," 
they feel no burden in it, and yet they divide with the 
rich the profits of a gainful commerce. He who has 
" chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of 
the kingdom," will neither crush them with the burdens 
of his cause, nor exclude them from a share in its progress 
and triumphs. When weighing the widow's farthing-gift 
against princely donations, he struck the balance in its 
favor because it had more heart in it ; because being at- 
tended with more sacrifices, it secured more sanctified 
affection, which is the true value of all gifts. Here, " the 
rich and the poor meet together" on a common level before 
God, in a work that carries blessings forth and back — 
blesses him that gives and him that takes. It makes youi 
cent a week, if you can give no more, a means of an inter- 
change of holy affections with Christ, a means of the en- 
largement of your heart and your sympathies for a dying 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 19 

world. And perhaps that single cent, wet with your tears, 
followed by your prayers, sent to its place by the partial 
hand of Him who so valued a widow's farthing, hits its 
mark with greater force than whole talents of gold from 
other hands. A single penny tract has had now and then 
a history more to be coveted than some of the proudest 
productions of genius. And who can say that that tract, 
which has lighted here and there a fire that is destined to 
spread and burn, none can tell how far — yea, has generated 
a train of light that has already gone widening and bright- 
ening round the world — was not sent on its mission by the 
hard-earned and prayer-eir^balmed gift of some poverty 
stricken child of God? 

4. This rule further commends itself by its superior 
efficiency in raising funds. This end, though a secondary 
branch of God's great work of benevolence upon this world, 
is as important as the conversion of the world. The first 
adoption of the rule in a given church may be followed by 
no marked increase ; for its power lies in forming and 
bringing to bear the settled habits which must have time 
to form. As fast as it forms these habits, it extends the 
sources of an enduring power. This provision comes to the 
poor and those of smaller means — the great majority of 
the church — removes the discouragement which they felt 
from giving any thing because their gifts must be so small, 
and shows the way for them to do a work second in im- 
portance to none ; and having enlisted them, it has secured 
recruits by thousands. Great complaints are heard, that 
a large portion of members of our churches wholly refrain 
from gifts for evangelizing. True, it is not the poor alone 
who are thus remiss. But if the number who are so could 
be reduced by the stated gifts of all who have been deterred 
from giving by a discouragement which this rule, well con- 
sidered, would remove, it might be hoped the others would 
come into the work. Any plan of raising supplies that dis- 
courages the small gifts of the poor, cuts its own sinews. 



20 RELiaiON AND BENEFICENCE 

Our worlds must be made by the aggregaticn of atoms 
Christ has fixed a premium on the gifts of the ])oor in 
what he said of the widow's farthing. And the rule under 
consideration works admirably in this view ; generating 
funds where there are none, gathering a thick and preg- 
nant cloud and drenching showers from exhalatiDns too 
thin to be visible. 

With admirable flexibility the rule bends to a.l vari- 
eties of cases. It commits us not for the future to any 
amount, but asks us to give only according to a prosperity 
already experienced, the income of the last week. It names 
no fixed percentage which each one must give, but leaves 
him to judge, in view of all his circumstances, how much 
he ought to give. He may, if he will, resolve to give 
such and such a percentage, as Jacob did ; but in this he 
is determined not by this divine rule itself, but by his own 
judgment of what is right in his own case. 

5. Another material advantage of action under such 
a rule is, that it secures to us a fund ahvays at hand to 
meet the calls for charity as they come. In deciding wheth- 
er to give for a particular object, selfishness cannot come 
in and plead against it ; for it has no interest in the ques- 
tion. The money in hand, to be given or not given, is 
already the Lord's, and not ours ; and acting as his stew- 
ards, we only decide how much of the Lord's money we 
will give on the occasion presented. Here is a means 
of becoming cheerful givers — of escaping from the con- 
trol or bias of selfishness, while educating the conscience 
and heart to expansive love. The nursing of such a fund 
for Christ, while it insensibly interests the mind more 
deeply in every Christian cause, prepares us to give a 
cheerful welcome to every messenger of that cause that 
comes in the person of a soliciting agent. For we have but 
a simple question to settle with him, that is, how much ot 
the Lord's money now in hand we ought to apply to the 
object he presents : yea, when all come to have such 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 21 

* fundei, soliciting agencies will disappear, and with them 
all the cumbrous and costly machinery now so needful for 
financial collections. The plan which Paul struck out, 
though it required agents to commence operations under it, 
left little for agents permanently to do. He did not say. 
Wait till I or some other agent come, and give you the 
thrilling details of the suffering saints ; but, Let " there be 
no gatherings when I come." 

6. Action under this rule secures the impulses and 
growth of our benevolence to come from the most sjnritual 
and evangelical motives. Paul did not make the fact that 
somebody will sufler if we do not give, the main reason 
for our giving, and thus leave the main-spring untouched. 
He did not rely on the energy and eloquence of agents 
giving the statistics and a panorama of the world lying in 
wickedness, and from these appealing to natural sympa- 
thies ; but he took hold of an order of motives that are 
capable of rousing the whole energy of the heart. None 
ever felt more deeply the wants and woes of a dying 
world, but he presents motives still higher and more con- 
trolling. Under a rule which secured habits of stated 
giving as God prospered, he secured the preponderance* of 
evangelical motives, and the more moving facts of Christ's 
redemption. He told of obligations to Christ, of the love 
of Christ constraining. He grasped the prime elements 
of persuasion, and descended not to lov/er themes. He 
sought to enthrone in the mind a steady and omnipresent 
principle of action. — a habit of giving from the intrinsic 
blessedness of giving — of doing it, like the work of repent- 
ance, because it is right — demanded by our eternal rela- 
tions to God and the wants of our immortal part. 

7. Every Christian ought to enter into the habit of 
systematic beneficence, under this divine rule, in order to 
qualify himself to do what he can to remedy one of the 
greatest deficiencies in the prcsejit habits and action of the 
shurch. There is a general conviction that the church 



22 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

is not doing what she can and ought ; and if we are not 
mistaken, the neglected source of the needed efficiency is 
in this heaven-appointed rule. If God has appointed ac- 
tion under this rule to be the great means of forming a 
benevolent character, is it a wonder that that benevolent 
character is so much unformed, where this rule is so much 
neo-lected ? The remedy lies in a restoration of this rule of 
action. True, the thing wanted, in order to a higher style 
of beneficence, is a higher tone of piety, raised by richer 
effusions of the Holy Spirit. But the aid comes not with- 
out the means. God will not, by any action of the Spirit 
of life, set aside any law of life, or reward us for a rejection 
of it. Nor will he give the needed vigor to our beneficence, 
while we reject the mode of action which he has appointed 
for us. As well maght the churches on the continent of 
Europe, where the Sabbath is to so great an extent lost, 
expect to recover the blessings of the Sabbath without a 
reenthronement of the divine law of the Sabbath and con- 
forming their practice to it. Needful as are the larger 
effusions of the Spirit to a higher style of beneficence in 
the church, they will not come except through the chan- 
nels which God has appointed. We have, indeed, had re- 
vivals, many and genuine, within the last twenty years ; 
but no strongly marked elevation of the standard of giving 
by means of them, nor can we look for such a result till 
our revivals have a basis of better instruction touching 
this duty. Revivals, ever so powerful and far-spreading, 
cannot be expected fully to supply defects of character 
resulting from defects of instruction. Wliile existing modes 
of thought and feeling prevail on this subject, we can 
hardly expect that future revivals will greatly raise the 
standard of beneficence ; the piety of future converts will 
be cast in the existing moulds. 

But if this rule is what we conceive it to be, a compend 
of the whole duty of beneficence — the divinely chosen in- 
strument of forminjr benevolent character — it is to be the 



RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 23 

grand instrument of efTecting the needed revolution in the 
habits of the church. As soon as you have gained the 
consent of one individual to act under it, you have secured 
the revolution in that one instance. You have gained, net 
simply another hand to give now and then so much, hut 
another heart to come under a training to steady and ex- 
pansive beneficence. You have brought the remedy to the 
very root of one of the greatest diseases of the church. 
You take those just initiated into the first principles, and 
teach them the alphabet, and put them forward in a di 
vinely-appointed course. The mass of Christians cannot 
be brought up to their duty but by trainings Ly action 
under such a specific rule. For this end you have this r"l« 
given of God, intelligible to the merest child, saited to the 
use of all. And as fast as you multiply jj'.r sons acting un- 
der it, you throng the way to that cousummation, when 
every church lesser or larger, every family rich or poor, 
shall be a generous source of suppjy to our grand schemes 
of beneficence. 

While the fields of the world are white for the harvest, 
and money raised can be turned to so rich account,, and yet 
while so many in the church are giving nothing, and so 
many others are giving so little, we naturally seek to reach 
the public conscience through some untravelled approaches. 
And here they are. Go to any Christian, and convince 
him that God requires him to act under this inspired rule 
of the apostle, and you lay a grasp on his conscience which 
it has never before felt. All count themselves to some 
degree benevolent, and all general exhortations to benevo- 
lence are taken as running in the line of their own present 
practice. But ask one to do this thing in this way, and you 
make a new proposal. Convince him that God requires 
it of him, and engage him to commence and proceed under 
the auspices of his own enlightened conscience, and you 
have put him in the path that leads surely on to a whole- 
Gouled benevolence Then let it be seen that this rule is 



24 RELIGION AND BENEFICENCE. 

entering into the common-sense and practice of the church ; 
let the common Cliristian life embrace it, and hold it forth 
as binding on all ; let it be seen that the neglect of this 
rule sets aside a substantive law of divine life, as. really as 
would the neglect of daily prayer, or the profanation of the 
Sabbath — then will you reach the public conscience with 
new power. Let all Christians, by word and deed, con- 
tribute to give this apostolic rule the force of a living com- 
mand of God — let it live and breathe through the common 
Christian practice, and soon all who profess to be Christ's 
will be in the practice of it. 

Here then is proposed for adoption a rule of duty in- 
volving our highest interest and usefulness, imposed by di- 
vine authority, and leading to the richest results. If any 
feel that they need no rule of beneficent action because 
they intend no such action, they must be left to the final 
reckoning, with the simple admonition that God's great 
scheme of beneficence never can embrace those whom it 
does not penetrate and make beneficent. But all who 
mean to act on the principle, that it is " the merciful" 
who " shall obtain mercy," will find intrinsic excellence 
and manifold advantages in action under this rule, will find 
from experience that they cannot well live without it. 

Note. Illustrations of the practical application and benefits of this 
divine rule will be found on the cover of this Tract. The Society also 
publish three able essays on the subject : " The Divine Law of Benefi- 
cence;" " Zaccheus, or the Scriptural Plan of Benevolence;" and 
"The Mission of the Church;" issued separately, and also bound in 
nnn volume. As an encouragement to themselves and others in adopt- 
ing this system, many have united in substantially the following 
PLEDGE OR COVENANT. 

Believing that the scripture system of benevolence requires every 
one statedly to "lay by him in store as God hath prospered him," I 
engage, on every Sabbath or at other stated periods, to set apart such 
a portion of what God shall give me as my judgment and conscience 
ehall dictate ; to be sacredly applied to charitable objects according to 
my sense of their respective claims. 

subscribers' names. 



IVo. StSB, 



NARRATIVE 

OF 

PHEBE ANN JACOBS 

BY MRS. T. C. UPHAM. 




"My little house has become a, palace." Page 6. 

The subject of this narrative was a colored woman, 
born a slave in Morris county, New Jersey, July, lt85. 
At an early age she was given to Mrs. Wheelock, wife of 
President Wheelock of Dartmouth college, to be an at- 
tendant on her daughter, Maria Malleville, who was after- 
wai'ds the wife of President Allen of Bowdoin college, 
Brunswick, Maine. She came to Brunswick with Presi- 
dent Allen's family, in 1820, and remained with them 
until the death of Mrs. Allen, from which time she chose 
to live alone. She died in Brunswick, February 28, 1850. 

Soon after she became a member of President Whee- 

VOL. XIII. 5 



2 PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 

lock's family, Phebe Avas brought to see her lost state by 
nature, and to flee to the Saviour as her only hope and 
refuge. Her subsequent life evinces that she had clear 
and hajpjpy views of the way of salvation by Christ. 

Phebe, for the last eighteen years, supported herself 
by washing and ironing for the students of Bowdoin col- 
lege. In her little habitation all was neatness and order. 
All her work seemed to be sanctified by prayer and praise, 
and to be done cheerfully, heartily, as unto the Saviour 
whom she loved. However busy, she was always ready 
to enjoy a season of devotion with her Christian friends 
who called to see her. She chose to live alone — alone 
with God, where, as she expressed it, " there would be no 
hinderances to prayer and praise at any time ; where she 
could converse with her Saviour all day long." So natu- 
rally would she speak to us of the presence of Christ with 
her, so happy was she in her testimony to the consola- 
tions she enjoyed in communion with him, that one could 
not but feel that Christ was with her, and that her little 
cottage on the plain was near to heaven. 

Phebe was contented and hafjpy. As a friend passed her 
dwelling, and it was beginning to rain, it was said to her, 
"I am afraid you will not get your clothes dry to-day, 
Phebe." "That is as the Lord pleases," she replied. All 
was right with her because she resigned her own will to 
the will of God ; hence she seemed to be always peaceful 
and happy. Every body knew that Phebe was ha]^j)y, and 
that it was religion that made her so. Young persons and 
children, as well as those of maturer years, loved to visit 
her. At one time a little colored girl was spending sev- 
eral weeks with Phebe. A gentleman meeting her, said, 
''Where do you live, little girl?" "With hajpjiy Phehe;' 
was her quick reply. Not long since, a kind neighbor 
sent her daughter to read to her the little book, "A Trap 
to catch a Sunbeam." After hearing it, said Phebe, 
"That is a beautiful book, but I don't need a trap to 
catch sunbeams ; I find sunbeams everyiohereP 

Who ever heard Phebe complain, or severely censure 



PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 3 

flny one? Fault-finding' was not her way of doing g>ood, 
or being useful in the church. When harsh remarks were 
made in her presence cgncerning her brethren or sisters, 
she would say, " We must pray more for them." And this 
was her custom. Not long since she was rudely spoken 
to, and her feelings wounded. Said Pliebe, ''I have a 
Friend, to whom I can go ;" and with no other reply she 
turned away, and on her knees before God prayed for 
this individual. The next morning the person came and 
asked her pardon. How beautifully does this illustrate 
the passage, "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves." 
Again, returning home from meeting one dark evening, 
with her head bowed down as usual, she was accosted, 
" Where are you bound, old woman ?" " To Canaan^ s hajp;py 
lancl^'' she answered. 

Phebe lov.tcl the. Scri'piurcs. Near by her, and always 
on her mind and heart, was her " precious Holy Bible," 
and her large-print Testament. Phebe had the same 
Bible that others have, but she found in it a great deal 
more than is commonly found, as all may observe who 
have seen her Bible. There the promises, and the threat- 
enings and warnings too, are marked or underscored by 
her pen or pencil. Phebe's marks beneath or beside a 
passage, made often with a heavy stroke of her pencil, 
come to our minds with the force of a commentary, for 
she was herself a "living epistle," "known and read" by 
us all. Said her pastor, "If a thousand devoted Chris- 
tians were requested to mark their favorite texts and 
expressions, it is believed they would hardly mark one 
not underscored by Phebe." 

Phebe loved the house of God. She took great delight 
in the services of the sanctuary : hence she was never 
absent except from sickness or urgent necessity. She 
was indeed a pillar of the church ; one in whom the 
minister found support by her constant attendance and 
prayers, by her cordial reception and love of the truth. 
She was the first to be seated in her place at church. 
For many years, in our former house of worship, she was 



4 PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 

seen sitting in one corner of the gallery, on the furthest 
row .of seats, with her head bowed in secret prayer. To 
look up to her as we entered the house of God was, to 
some of us at least, a prayer, a sermon, a hynan of praise. 
The last winter, her health failing, she was unable to 
walk to church as formerly, and remained during the in- 
termission — a season highly prized by some of her Chris- 
tian friends, who would hasten back to meet her. That 
glowing look of hers, that close pressure of the hand, 
that Sabbath-day greeting, will never be forgotten. The 
best, the most experienced Christians loved to be with 
Phebe, because she was a happy, Bible Christian, a wit- 
ness to the truth of God. 

Phebe loved to pray. Many times a day would she go to 
her bedroom, carpeted as for a little sanctuary, and kneel 
and pray. So much was her soul awake to the interests 
of Zion, it was no uncommon occurrence for her to arise 
at midnight and pray. " At midnight I will arise, and give 
thanks unto thee." This is a marked passage in her Bible. 
About four years since, her pastor was strengthened more 
than usual in his labors ; his soul was richly fed with 
heavenly manna ; and of this bread many of his flock 
partook with him. Not long after this season of refresh- 
ing, it was ascertained that Phebe had arisen every night, 
month after month, at midnight, to pray for her pastor. 

Many were the individuals for whom she prayed. Dur- 
ing the past winter a friend called to see her. "What is 

the good word ?" said Phebe. " Anna is serious, and 

inquiring the way of life." She arose at once from her 
seat, lifted her hands, and with tears of joy praised God 
aloud, and said, "For her I have been praying ; God is a 
hearer of prayer." 

Phebe's faith and confidence in God were practical, and 
availed her in time of need. When her " mistress," Mrs. 
Allen, died, whom she loved more than any being on earth, 
and whose death was very sudden, in the dead of night, 
causing great distress in the family, Phebe calmly said, 
"Don't we pray, ' Thy will he doneV and now it is done." 



PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 5 

Phebe gave of her suhstance. She made a monthly con- 
tribution of fifty cents to missions, and bequeathed her 
little all, remaining after her decease, to the cause of 
Christ. 

Phebe prayed for the college. The officers and students 
she bore on her heart to God. She always manifested a 
deep interest in the annual concert of prayer for colleges. 
At this concert, in the year 1834, a six o'clock morning 
prayer-meeting was appointed. When the pastor came, 
he found that Phebe had been there, on the door-steps, more 
than an hour praying I While it was yet dark, she found 
her way to the prayer-meeting, as Mary to the sepulchre. 
Who can tell how many souls were converted in answer 
to the prayers on that door-step — how much they had to 
do with those conversions in college which occurred at 
this time, and the fruits of which may be seen in the 
ministers scattered abroad, preaching the gospel, gather- 
ing souls into the kingdom of Christ? Those seasons of 
revivals in college, have they no connection with the 
prayers of this humble saint, who lived to pray : lived in 
obscurity, and yet lived for the college, lived for the 
church, lived for the pastor, lived for the world ? . 

Phebe loved the church and female prayer-meeting. Through 
the storm and wind and bad walking she would find h.er 
way to the place of prayer. In the female prayer-meeting, 
all loved to kneel when Phebe prayed. She approached 
the throne of grace as if her mind and heart were already 
there, and she had only to open her lips and the prayer 
of the heart ascended, in humility and faith and love. 
The last Sabbath she spent on earth she was at church 
as usual, and stopped at noon, and was conversing on the 
value and importance of this meeting. She then alluded 
to a time, about four years since, when "she could not 
hold her peace." About this time Phebe seemed more 
fully than ever before to receive Christ as an all-sufficient, 
present Saviour. The blessings of his salvation seemed 
as much her own as if she alone was heir to the redemp- 
tion purchased by Christ. She "knew in whom she be 



6 PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 

lieved," and that "he was able to make all grace abound 
toward her." Grace was triumphant in her soul, and so 
continued, by her own testimony given at her last inter- 
view with her Christian friends. From this time, as she 
often expressed it, "she had never let her Saviour go ;" 
"she had held him by the hand," nay more, "he had come 
into her heart, and continued to abide with her." "Satan 
is busy with me," she would sometimes say, " but my Lord 
is stronger than he." "My little house," said she, "this 
winter has become a palace: while sweeping my room to- 
day, I thought, I must sweep softly, for He was here, my 
Lord and King." 

Phebe was humhle. Her humility drew all hearts tow- 
ards li^r. All the attention she received did not cause 
her for a moment to step aside from her own humble path, 
in which she continued to walk, doing her own work, or 
rather the Lord's, in her own humble, quiet way. She 
rarely, if ever, spoke first, yet was always ready to 
respond heartily to the greetings of her brethren and sis- 
ters in Christ. She literally and truly sought out the 
lowest seat. Down by the door at the evening meeting sat 
Phebe with her head bowed, neither seeing nor wishing 
to be seen. Being urged to come up nearer, as she had 
often been before, it was said to her, "What will you do, 
Phebe, when you get to heaven?" "My Master will tell 
me where to sit," she answered. There was a peculiar 
lowly attitude of spirit and manner which sat on her with 
a natural grace and beauty, that cannot be described. 

Phebe had no fear of death. She died as suddenly as 
her mistress, and now lies by her side in the Pine-grove 
cemetery, where lie so many of the loved and honored. 
?She had often expressed a desire to be placed at her 
mistress' feet. As she was expecting to die suddenly and 
alone, she had given the signal to her nearest neighbor, 
that when she saw no smoke from her chimney in the 
morning, she would know that she was gone. "When 
you hear I am gone home," said she to the writer of this 
the Sabbath before she died, "praise the Lord." "I 



PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 7 

shall g-o soon, very soon. If to-morrow you hear I am 
gone home to heaven, rejoice and give thanks, and re- 
member, it is well with me." ''Jesus, lover of my soul," 
she repeated at this, our last Sabbath interview; "yes, 
lover, LOVER, lovek ! How can I better express it ? ' Jesus, 
lover of my soulP^ 

A few hours only before she was called away, she 
came to look on the wife of her pastor, then sleeping her 
last sleep, from which she was to awake only in heaven. 
As Phebe was standing and looking earnestly and, as it 
was believed, wishfully on that near approach to heaven, 
she was asked, "Phebe, don't 3^ou wish you were going 
home so soon?" "Yes, indeed I do," was her emphatic 
answer. "Are you not unwilling to be there alone in 
your house, when you may be taken sick at any time ?" 
She replied, with solemn earnestness, "I am not alone; 
my Saviour is with me : he is my keeper, my shepherd, 
my all — my all in all." 

The next morning Phebe's body was found in her bed, 
cold and lifeless ; her eyes calmly closed, the mouth shut, 
her hands placed by her side, her candle burnt out, her 
Testament and spectacles by the bedside, the door of her 
house unbolted ; no smoke ascended from her cottag-e, 
and Phebe was not — God took her. 

"Who now will pray for us?" said one; "Phebe is 
gone." "We have lost Phebe's prayers," said another ; 
"what a loss I" Again, "Phebe has been praying for us 
all these thirty years ; and now we feel that God has 
made a great breach upon us." Said another, "Yes, we 
have lost, but heaven has gained. Who will sing the 
Saviour's praises louder, sweeter, than Phebe ?" 

The Sabbath following, at the close of the afternoon 
services, her remains were brought to the house of God. 
A large assembly were collected from all the congrega- 
tions of the village. The pastor; Kev. Dr. Adams, though 
in deep affliction, his companion lying dead, to be buried 
on the morrow, could not refuse to be present : a highly 
valued member of his church had been taken from him ; 



8 PHEBE ANN JACOBS. 

one on whose prayers he depended, whose encouraging 
words had often given him new strength ; one who was' a 
living witness of the truths he preached ; an example to 
believers : yes, the pastor, though in tears, was present 
to read the hymns, to offer the prayer, to read the Scrip- 
tures, to address the assembly, to bear /a testimony, a 
full and emphatic testimony to the worth of Phebe. His 
trying position and touching address ; the sympathy of 
his flock with him ; the loss to us of his companion, a 
woman greatly respected and beloved ; and the loss of 
Phebe, made this occasion one of peculiar tenderness and 
solemnity. Slowly and sweetly sounded forth the organ's 
notes on that day, as if a weeping angel touched the 
strings ; there was sadness and beauty in the strains. 

The wife of the pastor died the same night with Phebe, . 
and perhaps at the same hour of the night. We may think 
of them as ascending together to the mansions of the 
blessed. To die with Phebe was a privilege ; and the 
pastor remarked on this occasion, that if his v/ife had 
been permitted to choose a companion to accompany her 
through the " dark valley," and into the open portals of 
heaven, she would have chosen Phebe. She was heard 
to say, " I am perfectly happy ; Christ is sufficient for all 
my necessities ; I never supposed I could enjoy so much : 
there is no one on earth I would exchange places with but 
Phebe." 

At the funeral of Phebe there was no relative, no kin- 
dred of the flesh. Those following nearest her remains 
were President Allen and daughters, who, informed by 
telegraph, had come nearly two hundred miles to testify 
their respect and affection for the deceased. Her remains 
were borne out from the church and accompanied to the 
grave by officers of the college and others, who might 
have been chosen for this purpose had the most honored 
and most beloved among us fallen. A long procession 
followed her remains and gathered around her grave. 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW TORK. 



IVo. S37. 

TRUE RELIGION. 



FROIvI PRESIDENT EDWARDS' REFLECTIONS ON TH: 
LIFE OF DAVID BRAINERD. 



In the life of Brainerd we may see, as I apprehend, 
the nature of true religion, and the manner of its operation, 
when exemplitied in a high degree and in powerful exer- 
cise. Particularly it may be worthy to be observed, 

1. How greatly Brainerd's religion differed from that 
of some pretenders to the experience of a clear work of 
saving conversion wrought on their hearts ; who, depend- 
ing and living on that, settle in a cold, careless, and carnal 
frame of mind, and in a neglect of a thorough, earnest re- 
ligion, in the stated practice of it Although his convic- 
tions and conversion were in all respects exceedingly clear, 
and very remarkable, yet how far was he from acting as 
though he thought he had got through his work, when once 
he had obtained comfort and satisfaction of his interest In 
Christ and a title to heaven. On the contrary, that work 
on his heart by which he was brought to this, was with hirr 
evidently but the beginning of his work — his first entering 
on the great business of religion and the service of God — 
his first setting out in his race. His work was not finished, 
nor his race ended, till life was ended. 

As his conversion was not the end of his work, or of the 
course of his diligence and strivings in religion, so neither 
was it the end of the work of the Spirit of God on his 
heart. On the contrary, it was the first dawning of the 
light, which thenceforth increased more and more — the be- 
ginning of his holy affections, his sorrow for sin, his love 
to God, his rejoicing in Jesus Christ, his longing after holi- 
ness. There are many who, after the effect of novelty is 
5* 



2 TRUE RELIG-ION. 

over, soon find their situation and feelings very much the 
same "as before their supposed conversion, M^itli respect to 
any present thirsting for God, or ardent outgoings of their 
Eouls after divine objects. Far otherwise was it with Brain- 
erd. His experiences, instead of dying away, were evi- 
dently of an increasing nature. His first love, and other 
holy affections, even at the beginning, were very greats but, 
after the lapse of months and years, became much greater 
and more remarkable. 

2. His religion apparently and greatly differed from 
that of many high pretenders to religion, who are fre- 
quently actuated by vehement emotions of mind, and are 
carried on m a course of sudden and strong impressions, 
and supposed high illuminations and immediate discover- 
ies, and at the same time are persons of a virulent "z,eal, 
not according to knowledge." H* we look through the whole 
series of his experience, from his conversion to his death, 
we shall fiud none of this kind — no imaginary sight of 
Christ hanging on the cross with his blood streaming from 
his wounds, or with a countenance smiling on him, or 
arms open to embrace him; no sight of the book of life 
opened, with his name written in it; no hearing God or 
Christ speaking to him; nor any sudden suggestions of 
words or sentences, either of Scripture or any other, as then 
immediately spoken or sent to him; no new revelations; 
no sudden strong suggestions of secret facts. Nor do I 
find any one instance in all the records which he has left 
of his own life, from beginning to end, of joy excited from 
a supposed immediate witness of the Spirit, or inward im- 
mediate suggestion that his state was surely good. But 
the way in which he was satisfied of his own good estate, 
even to the entire abolishing of fear, was by feeling with- 
in himself the lively actings of a holy temper and heaven- 
ly disposition, the vigorous exercises of that divine 'vlove 
which castetli out fear." 

3. The great object of Brainerd's religion was holiness, 



TRUE RELIGION. "3 

conformity to God, living to God, and glorifying him. This 
was what drew his heart ; this was the centre of his soul ; 
this was the ocean to which all the streams of his religious 
affections tended ; this was the object which engaged his 
eager, thirsting desires and earnest pursuits. He knew no 
true excellency or happiness but this ; this was what he 
longed for most vehemently and constantly on earth; and 
this was Avith him the beauty and blessedness of heaven. 
This made him so much, and so often long for that world 
of glory. It was to be perfectly holy, and perfectly exer- 
cised in the holy employments of heaven; and thus "to 
glorify God and enjoy him for ever." 

His religious illuminations, affections, and comfort 
seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evangelical 
humiliation, consisting in a sense of his own utter insuffi- 
ciency, despicableness, and odiousness, with an answerable 
disposition and frame of heart. How deeply affected was 
he almost continually with his great defects in religion ; 
with his vast distance from that spirituality and holy frame 
of mind that became him ; with his ignorance, pride., dead- 
ness, unsteadiness, barrenness! He was not only affected 
with the remembrance of his former sinfulness before liis 
conversion, but with the sense of his present vilcness and 
pollution. He was not only disposed to think meanly of 
himself as bef^ore God, and in comparison of him, but among 
men. and as compared with them. He was apt to think 
other saints better than himself; yea, to look on himself as 
the meanest and least of saints; yea, very often, as the 
vilest and worst of mankind And notwithstanding his 
great attainments in spiritual knowledge, yet we find there 
js scarcely any thing, with a sense of which he is more fre- 
quently affected and abased, than his ignorance. 

How eminently did he appear to be of a meek and quiet 
spirit, resembling the lamblike, dovelike spirit of Jesus 
Christ' How full of love, meekness, quietness, forgive- 
ness, and mercy I His love was not merely a fondness and 



4 TRUE RELiaiOX. 

zeal for a party, but a universal benevolence, very often ex- 
ercised in the most sensible and ardent love to his greatest 
opposers and enemies. 

Of how soft and tender a spirit was he I How great and 
constant his jealousy over his ov/n heart; how strict his 
care and watchfulness against sin; how deep and sensible 
were the wounds that sin made in his conscience ! Those 
evils which are generally accounted small, were almost an 
insupportable burden to him ; such as his inward deficien- 
cies,, his having no more love to God, finding within him- 
self any slackness or dulness in religion, any unsteadiness 
or wandering frame of mind. How did the consideration 
of such things as these oppress and abase him, and fill him 
with inward shame and confusion. His joy seemed truly 
to be a rejoicing with trembling. 

His religious afieetions and joys were not like those of 
some, who have rapture and mighty emotions from time to 
time in company, but have very little affection in retire- 
ment and secret places. Though he was of a very sociable 
temper, and loved the company of saints, and delighted 
very much in religious conversation, and in social worship, 
yet his warmest affections, and their greatest efiects on his 
animal nature, and his sweetest joys, were in his closet 
devotions, in transactions between God and his own soul. 

4. His religion did not consist in experience without 
practice. All his inward illuminations, affections, and 
comforts seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, and 
to issue in it; and this, not merely a practice negatively 
good, free from gross acts of irreligion and immorality, but 
a practice positively holy and Christian, in a serious, devout, 
humble, meek, merciful, charitable, and beneficent conver- 
sation ; making the service of God and our Lord Jesus 
Christ the great business of life, to which he was devoted, 
and which he pursued with the greatest earnestness and 
diligence to the end of his days, through all trials. 

7UBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IXo. S3S, 

ONE HONEST EFFORT; 



OR, 



THE COLLEGE STUDENT. 



In the year 1835 the son of a minister became a stu- 
dent of Brown University, Providence, R. I. At twelve 
years of age he had stood beside the couch of a dying 
mother, whose voice had often told him of Jesus, and 
whose prayers had constantly ascended for her first-born. 
The hand which had led him to the Sunday-school was 
now motionless. With weeping eyes and a sad heart the 
son saw the coffin placed in the grave. Two years after- 
wards, at the age of fourteen, he entered the college. 

New scenes engaged the attention of the youthful 
student. His mother was dead. His father, having relin- 
quished the pastoral care of his church in Boston on account 
of the failure of his voice, was absent on a missionary tour 
in Asia. More than two years soon passed away. 

The last Thursday in February, 1838, was observed by 
th3 pious students as a day of fasting and prayer, in con- 
cert with many of the followers of Christ. A daily prayer- 
meeting was held each evening for one hour. The son of 
a praying mother and of a pious father did not attend, for 
he was living without hope and without God. One day 
a friend asked him, " Have you attended any of the prayer- 
meetings ?" He replied, " I have not." The pious student 
kindly urged him to attend, and added, ''Come with us, 
and we will try to do you good." Admitting the impor- 
tance of religion, he determined to comply with the re- 
quest, and was present at the evening prayer-meeting. 
Another pious student accompanied him to his room, and 
after conversing with him about his sinfulness and need 
of a Saviour, proposed to kneel and pray with him. He 



2 ONE HONEST EFFORT. 

felt very deeply, and wept much. Feeling himself to be a 
sinneT in the sight of God, he resolved to seek the Lord. 

During the succeeding fortnight his feelings rather 
abated, though he did not give up the subject entirely. 
At one of the prayer-meetings the president urged those 
that were impenitent to make " one honest effort for the 
salvation of the soul." He spoke of their efforts in worldly 
pursuits, in contrast with their neglect of the undying 
soul. "Even if they should be lost," he remarked, ''they 
would not regret that they had at least made one effort. ^^ 
The remark affected him, and he resolved to make one 
honest effort, and for that purpose set apart the next 
Sabbath as a day of fasting and prayer. 

In the morning the president preached a very solemn 
discourse in the chapel. The young man retired to his 
room for prayer. Sins long forgotten rose up before him. 
He reflected upon particular sins, and tried to humble 
himself on account of them, confessing them to God. 
Doddridge's Rise and Progress, the Bible, and the earnest 
appeals contained in the letters received from his absent 
father, were read with many tears. The early religious 
privileges which he had enjoyed made his sins more ag- 
gravated. He felt that he had indeed sinned against a 
just and merciful God. He wished to sin no more. He felt 
willing to do any thing, or suffer any degree of torture 
ever inflicted, as an equivalent for the pardon of his sins ; 
for he could not see how he was to be saved by faith. 

In the evening he went to a prayer-meeting, which 
he felt to be the most solemn he had ever attended. Dis- 
tressed on account of his guilt, he asked the friend who 
had invited him to attend the prayer-meetings to come 
to his room, that he might unburden his feelings to him. 
He readily consented, and after giving some directions, 
prayed with him. When his friend left, he felt that if 
ever he obtained pardon, he must do it then, for he could 
put it off no longer. Entering a vacant room he fastened 
the door, determining to remain till he obtained the pardon 
of his sins and reconciliation to God. He felt that he was 



ONE HONEST EFFORT. 3 

justly condemned, and deserved to perish. Ec saw that 
no eliorLS ol' his own would avail. There was left but one 
hope, '' the Lamb of God," the crucified Saviour. lie pray- 
ed for mercy, feeliug that though his petitions should not 
be answered, yet his situation could not be more miser- 
able. No longer did he feel that if one effort did not suc- 
ceed, he would try no more ; for now he resolved never to 
turn back, but if he perished, to perish asking for mercy. 
His agony was such that he could hardly utter his desires. 
He could only cry, " God be merciful to me a sinner," and 
think of the promise, "Him that cometh to me I will in 
no wise cast out." 

The next morning his mind was calm and tranquil. 
His first impression was, that he could not have been in 
earnest on the previous day, but his feelings were en- 
tirely different from any ever before experienced. He 
now felt a love for Christians ; the Bible seemed to be a 
new book ; prayer had pleasures never known before. 
Seeking out his most intimate friend, he proposed a walk, 
that he might speak of Jesus, and urge him to repent 
and believe. During the day his joy gradually increased, 
till he felt greater happiness than he had ever before ex- 
perienced. It was the joy of pardoned sin. 

At the prayer-meeting that evening he arose to tell 
his fellow-students what God had done for his soul, and 
to urge them to make "one honest effort" for their souls' 
salvation. A student, now a minister of the gospel, was 
very much affected, and resolved that he too would en- 
deavor to seek a change of heart. Some wept, and others 
sung the praise of the Redeemer. 

In a few days a little band of ten students cherished 
the hope of pardon through the Saviour's atoning blood. 
A 3^oung converts' prayer-meeting was commenced, and 
continued each week until their studies w^ere completed. 
Six of that little group entered the ministry, and among 
them the subject of this narrative, who has often from the 
pulpit entreated sinners to make one honest effort. 

A mother's prayers were answered, though she did 



4 ONE HONEST EFFORT. 

not live to witness the conversion of her son. The absent 
father reached the shores of his native land within ten 
days, to be cheered by the tidings of the conversion of 
his first-born ; and soon afterwards he welcomed his son 
into the church as a professed disciple of Jesus. The 
prayers of Christians that more laborers might be sent 
into the harvest, were answered. The conversation of 
pious friends and the frequent meetings for prayer were 
blessed. 

Christless sinner, will you make one honest effort for 
your own salvation? Is it not a reasonable request? Do 
not delay. Life is short. Death is certain. If you intend 
to repent at some future time, why do you go on doing 
the very deeds for which you expect at some future time 
to repent? Is not this course inconsistent? Will you 
not at least make one sincere, honest effort? You need 
not fear to give up your present enjoj^ments. If you 
love Christ, you will -no longer desire the pleasures which 
you now think it a hardship to give up. The withering 
touch of disease may at any time reach you. You must 
shortly stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Oh 
throw yourself now at the foot of the cross, and seek 
pardon for your countless sins against a holy God. Christ 
is able and willing to save sinners when they come to 
him. 'X'ome unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy- 
laden, and I will give you rest." "Now is the accepted 
time ; now is the day of salvation." Throw yourself upon 
the mercy of Christ, just as you are. "Believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Make an 
unreserved surrender. This may be the crisis, the turn- 
ing point. Decide as on a death-bed you will wish you 
had done. Oh resolve now, to make one honest effort 
for the salvation of your soul. 

** I can but perish if I go : 
I am resolved to try ; 
For if I stay away, I know 
I must for ever die." 

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



J¥o. 539. 

THE CONVERSION 

AND 

CALL TO THE MINISTRY 

OF THE 

REV, JOHN H. LIVINGSTON, D.D. 



The genuineness of the work of grace in the heart of this 
eminent servant of Christ, which is here given chiefly as nar- 
rated by himself, was evinced by the entire subsequent history 
of his long and eventful life. He was born in Poughkeepsie, 
N. Y., May 30, 1746. He was the son of Henry Livingston, 
Esq. ; was a family connection of Chancellor Livingston, and of 
Philip and Robert R. Livingston signers of the Declaration of 
Independence ; and was a descendant of the Rev. John Livings- 
ton, whose sermon at the kirk of Shotts, June, 1630, on the day 
after a communion-season, is celebrated in the annals of the 
church of Scotland as blessed in the conversion of hundreds of 
souls, and the extensive revival of the work of God. 

Having had superior early advantages, he graduated at Yale 
College in 1762, at the age of sixteen, and for two years ardently 
pursued the study of law, when, as he believed at the call of 
God, he devoted himself to the ministry. At the age of twenty, 
in 1766, he proceeded to Holland, and joined the university of 
Utrecht, where he pursued his theological studies, and was 
licensed to preach by the Classis of Amsterdam, in June, 1769. 
By the same ecclesiastical body he was ordained, and invested 
with the office of collegiate pastor of the Reformed Protestant 
Dutch church of the city of New York, April 2, 1770. On the 
10th of September following, he was introduced to his pastoral 
charge, in which -he continued to labor faithfully and fruitfully 
for more than forty years. 

The piety, talents, learning, and various accomplishments of 
once secured to him an unrivalled 



2 CONVERSION OF 

influence m the cliurch of whicli he became so conspicnous an 
orna-ment. This influence he neither perverted nor forfeited, 
but, in its just exercise, retained to the last. His agency was at 
all times prominently called forth in the promotion of every great 
measure designed to advance the edification and prosperity of the 
church; and more than any other man, he contributed to the 
healing of divisions unhappily existing, and securing peace, 
•^^ving for many years had young men preparing for the min- 
istry under his care, in 1810 he resigned his pastoral charge and 
removed to New Brunswick, N. J., where the remainder of his 
life was spent in the arduous endeavor to build up a theological 
institution commensurate with the wants of the church with 
which he was connected. In this service he sacrificed and toiled 
and prayed. On the 20th of January, 1825, in the seventy-ninth 
year of his age, and the fifty-fifth of his ministry, having served 
his generation by the will of God, without the least premonition 
or the movement of a muscle, in the night-vv^atches and on his 
bed, "he fell asleep," and ceased from his labors. 

Dr. Livingston was a man of noble and commanding pres- 
ence, of peculiar gentleness and urbanity of manner, and great 
spirituality of mind and conversation; one whom even the most 
casual observer could not fail to remark as eminent in every 
circle. 



^' While I w^as yet a child," says Dr. Livingston, "the 
solemn impressions of the being and presence of God, of my 
dependence upon him, and the awful realities of a future 
state, were very strong, and frequently interrupted me in 
my play and sports. I often left my little companions and 
sought some retired spot, where I might pray without being 
observed. "What I prayed for, and what my views and 
exercises in prayer were, I do not now recollect ; but there 
was something of the fear and reverence of God, of a sense 
of the evil of sin, and a universal obligation to fulfil every 
duty, which occupied my mind, aroused my conscience, an d 
convinced me that I could never be happy, if I rema ned 
an enemy to God, or wilfully transgressed his holy com- 
mandments. But these first principles, or convictions, 
whatever they were, did not prove efiectual to produce 



REV. DR. JOHN H. LIVINOSTON. 3 

conversion. They were changeable and transient. They 
frequently returned, and were as frequently forgotten, ex- 
cepting that they created in me a lively a.nd tender con- 
science, which, through all the giddy mazes, violent temp- 
tations, and wild eccentricities of youth, never wholly for- 
sook me. They excited a rigid monitor within my breast, 
and often silently but powerfully preserved me from follies 
and sins which, otherwise, I should undoubtedly have per- 
petrated. I recollect instances wherein the Lord, with a 
strong hand and discernible interposition, prevented mo 
from committing sins where temptations were numerous and 
urgent. These early impressions went no further. The 
amount of benefits resulting from early parental instruc- 
tion, and from all the ordinances and sermons I had heard 
during my whole life, was nothing more than Some con- 
fused ideas of truths which 1 did not understand or believe. 
This was my own fault, for I had not been in earnest, or 
desirous to know the Lord or obey his word. 

" A book of Bunyan — I think it was Grrace Abounding 
to the Chief of Sinners — first excited sharp and irresistible 
alarms in my soul, but I obtained no particular instruction, 
nor received any other advantage from that book. In my 
father's library, among other religious books, I found Dod- 
dridge's E-ise and Progress. This gave me more enlarged 
and correct views of religion than I ever had before. I 
perused it with great attention and much prayer, and 
wished to feel and experience the power of the truths as 
they occurred in succession. This book was useful and 
blessed to me beyond any uninspired volume I ever read. 
But my chief attention was fixed upon the sacred Scrip- 
tures. I knew nothing of the peculiar nature of a divine 
revelation, nor of the distinct classes of arguments which 
prove the Bible to be written by men inspired of the Holy 
Ghost ; but there was an internal evidence in that sacred 
book — there was a majesty, sublimity, and authority, con- 
nected with perspicuity and power, which commanded my 



4 CONVERSION OF 

attention, and enjoined obedience. The divine perfections 
of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, one God, and 
his glorious works, as delineated in the Bible, I was sure 
were agreeable to truth. And I found the secrets of my 
heart, my state, my character, my principles, and conduct 
were all naked and open to the word of God. To receive, 
therefore, that blessed volume, without hesitation, as the 
standard of my faith and practice, was my ardent wish ; 
being firmly persuaded that I should be condemned or 
accepted agreeably to its infallible declarations. To un- 
derstand the Scriptures, became, consequently, my earnest 
sstudy and daily prayer; and to them I appealed upon 
every question which arose in my mind. 

" Convictions of sin, of guilt, and misery, became clear 
and pungent ; and some confused idea of redemption 
through a Saviour, and the possibility of pardon, and the 
restoration of my depraved nature, engaged my thoughts 
and prayers without intermission. For several months I 
could do nothing but read and meditate, plead at a throne 
of grace, and weep over my wretched and lost estate. 

"As new inquiries and difficulties arose, and new 
truths, with their inseparable consequences, came under 
consideration, I repaired to the Bible ; I supplicated for 
light and instruction, and had to contend, study, and strug- 
gle for every article of faith in succession. 

"Two doctrines, above all others, engaged my ardent 
attention, and caused a severe and long conffict, 

"The first was the divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ 
I saw, in his word, that he was a great Saviour ; that the 
Father was well-pleased in his Son ; and that sinners, the 
chief of sinners, were accepted in the Beloved, I believed 
that he was able to save, even to the uttermost, all who 
come unto God by him. It was also evident, that in all 
his fulness, he was freely offered in the gospel, and the 
vilest sinners were authorized and commanded to believe 
in him, to accept him in all his glorious offices, and be- 



REV. DR. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON. d 

come exclusively his property. But if he were only a 
man, I did not dare to give myself away wholly to him, 
as I should then, by a solemn act, engage to belong to a 
mere creature, and thus, by becoming united even to Jesus, 
I should not yet come home to my God, from whom I had 
revolted. This checked my exercises for a time, and 
brought me into great fears and perplexity ; until, from 
his word, I obtained a clearer discovery of the perfections 
of God, and of the infinite evil of sin. This convinced me 
that no finite arm could vindicate the divine government, 
and rescue me from the curse ; that He alone who made 
me, could possess authority and power to redeem me ; and 
that my Saviour must not only be truly man, but also 
truly God. I then satisfactorily perceived and understood 
that this was the doctrine of the Bible : I saw it was the 
uniform declaration of the sacred Scriptures, that the Son 
of God was one with the Father ; that he that hath seen 
the Son, hath seen the Father ; and that, therefore, if I 
came to Jesus, I should come home to my God — my Maker 
would be my husband. Of that interesting truth I have 
never doubted since. 

" The other doctrine which fixed my attention, alid 
excited much care and study, respected justification. 

" A conviction of guilt and misery, of pollution and 
inability, assured me of the impossibility of my being 
accepted of God, either in whole or in part, for any thing 
to be produced or performed by me. I was fully convinced 
that without a better righteousness than my own, I must 
and should perish for ever. This conviction prompted me 
most attentively to read, and with fervent prayer to study 
the word of God. I made no use of commentaries, nor any 
human aid, but perused and compared again and again 
the sacred Scriptures, especially the prophecy of Isaiah, 
the epistles of Paul to the Romans and to the Galatians, 
the first epistle of Peter, and the gospel of John. These 1 
attentively read ; upon these I meditated ; and with a 



6 CONVERSION OF 

eincere desire for instruction, continually supplicated the 
throne of grace to be led into the truth, preserved from 
error, and established in the doctrine of the gospel. And 
it pleased the Lord, I trust, to give me the light and instruc- 
tion I sought. The righteousness of Christ, comprising his 
active and passive obedience, and the imputation of that 
righteousness to every soul who receives the Saviour by 
faith, and thus by his Spirit becomes united to him, w^hich 
is the basis upon which imputation rests, were rendered so 
intelligible, clear, and convincing to my mind, that I con- 
sidered the result to be the teaching of the Holy Spirit by 
his word, and received it and submitted to it as such, with- 
out any wavering or carnal disputation. That the atone- 
ment of Christ was specific, complete, and worthy of all 
acceptation, I was sure. 

" These were my views of justification by faith, but not 
fo7- faith. And my belief of the relation of God the Re- 
deemer to all the redeemed, and of the imputed righteous- 
ness of the precious Saviour, was then so decided, clear, 
and full, that although a long life of study in this and 
other doctrines has succeeded, I do not know that I have 
ever obtained one new or additional idea respecting the 
justification of a sinner. All I know of it, I gained at that 
period of my life and of my exercises, and no adverse winds 
of false doctrines have ever shaken my faith. 

"During these studies and conflicts a sense of guilt 
increased, and the most distressing convictions of sin ex- 
cited amazement and terrors which no words can express. 
My unbelief prevented me from closing with the gracious 
calls of the gospel ; my heart remained so hard and stub- 
born, and my fears became so alarming, that I was reduced 
to the brink of despair, and felt and experienced what it 
would be improper even to mention. In this dreadful 
horror of soul, and fearful state of mind, I continued many 
weeks ; and had it continued much longer, or rose a little 
higher, I must have died. I believed the Lord Jesus was 



REV. DR. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON. 7 

able to save me, but I could not believe that he was will* 
ing to receive and save a wretch who had sinned so much, 
and resisted his grace so long as I had done. 

"At length it pleased him to conquer my unbelief, hj 
convincing me that if the Saviour was able to save me, he 
must, most assuredly, be also willing, and that as such, he 
had pledged himself not to cast out any who came to him. 
This broke the chains and brought me into liberty. This 
dispelled doubts, removed fears, and conquered despond- 
ency. This gave me free and cheerful access to the throne 
of grace. I found a warrant and freedom to give myself 
away to the blessed Jesus, and I did most unreservedly do 
it with the greatest willingness, sincerity, joy, and eager- 
ness, that I ever performed any act in my life. 

" Now consolations succeeded to griefs. I lived by 
faith. I found rest, and knew what it was to have Christ 
living in me. I had joy and peace in believing. I was 
conscious that I had received the divine Redeemer in all 
his offices, as offered to sinners in his word ; that I had 
devoted myself, for time and eternity, to him, and was no 
longer my own ; and that I had actually become united tc 
him. I have never doubted of this transaction, througl; 
all the trials of faith, to this day. 

"For some months my consolations abounded, and I 
felt a degree of that love which casteth out fear. Raised 
from the depths of despair, and brought out of darkness 
into light, I now enjoyed all that assurance of salvation, 
and rapture of hope, which a lively, direct, and appropri- 
ating faith in my blessed Jesus produced. I realized my 
union with him ; I derived of his fulness, and walked in 
the light of the countenance of the God of my salvation. 

" Sin appeared exceeding sinful. With a broken and 
contrite heart, I sincerely repented of it ; and I especially 
mourned when I' looked unto Him whom I had pierced. , 1 
abhorred myself as a monster of iniquity and ingratitude, 
while I fled for refuge to lay hold of the hope set before me 



8 CONVERSION OF 

Willing and desirous to be saved from my sins, and hunger- 
ing and thirsting after righteousness, my Saviour became 
very precious to my soul. He was the Lord, my righteous- 
ness and strength, my vi^ay, my end, my life, .my all in all. 
The word. Gal. 2 : 20, was realized, and foremost in my 
exercises for some time ; I believed, experienced, and re- 
peatedly said, ' I am crucified with Christ : nevertheless, I 
live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life 
which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the 
Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.' I 
now knew that divine grace had reduced a prodigal to his 
right mind, and brought a wandering and unworthy child 
home to his Father. "With my whole heart, I earnestly 
and repeatedly devoted myself to him in a covenant which 
I was confident was in all things well ordered and sure. I 
now had but one Master, who had bought me with a price. 
To him I exclusively belonged, and in the strength of his 
grace I resolved, with self-denial ai^d perseverance, to fol- 
low and serve him alone. 

" This opened to me sublime and affecting views. This 
broke the prevailing power of sin in my soul, and it has 
never had dominion over me since. This inspired me with 
supreme love to God and holiness, and suggested ends and 
motives unknown to me before. Every thing appeared, 
and was in fact then new to me. With the change of 
my relative state, when upon receiving Christ I obtained 
the adoption, he changed also my internal state, and gave 
me a new heart, with the temper and affections of a child. 
John 1 : 12, 13. In the happy frame which these exer- 
cises and the communications of the divine presence ex- 
cited, I continued for some time with inexpressible delight, 
and was convinced it would be easy to suffer martyrdom, 
if the Lord should please to manifest himself to the soul, 
and say, I am your salvation. These views and comforts 
engaged my total attention, and I expected they would 
always remain, and even daily increase ; and notwith- 



REV. DR. JOHN H. LIVINGSTON. 9 

Btanding a disappointment in that expectation, still, the 
recollection and relish of those first exercises of faith, of 
hope, of love, of joy, and peace, have never been lost. In 
the darkest hours which have since succeeded, in the heav- 
iest trials and greatest discouragements, I have never gone 
to my blessed Saviour and God as to a stranger, but always 
have considered him as my covenant Head, my Lord, my 
Husband, and portion, who has united me to himself, and 
from whom, I am assured, nothing shall be able to sepa- 
rate me. I know whom I have believed, and I am per- 
suaded that he is able to keep, and will keep, that which 
I have committed unto him against that day. 

" The first alarm respecting a change in my comforta- 
ble frames, was occasioned by a sermon I one morning 
heard the celebrated Whitefield preach. His text was Psa. 
40 : 1-3. In the introduction he said he had intended 
to preach upon another subject, but this passage was im- 
pressed with such power upon his mind, that he was con- 
strained to take it ; and I believe, said he, there is one now 
present, for u'hom God designs this to be a ivord in season. 
The young convert, rejoicing in hope, and in a lively 
frame, expects he ivill always proceed, with swelling sails, 
before a propitious gale of consolations ; but remember, said 
the great preacher — and I thought he pointedly and sol- 
emnly addressed me — that at some period of your life you 
icill come into a situation and exercises ivhich you will 
denominate with David, a horrible pit and miry clay ; 
there you ivill remain until your patience is severely tried. 
Yet be of good courage : the Lord ivill bri?ig you out ivith 
triumphant songs of deliverance. He will set your feet 
upoyi a rock, and establish your goings. Your restoration 
will be equal to your first joys. Be of good cheer. Look 
unto Jesus. The victory is sure. From that hour, I con- 
sidered this word intended for me, and expected its accom* 
plishment. I knew not what it fully comprehended, but 
I understood it in part, and was persuaded that I should 

VOL. XIII. G 



10 COISVERSION OF 

know the whole. And in the progress of my spiritual war 
fare I have experienced it, although I still wait for its 
highest fulfilment. No word of scripture has been more 
constantly, for many years, present to my mind, influential 
to my heart, or oftener upon my lips in prayer, while pa- 
tience is performing its perfect work. 

" I began to feel even greater ardor for the study of 
divinity, than I had before entertained for the law; yet 
here difficulties which seemed insuperable, immediately 
occurred. My health was feeble ; the pain in my breast 
was frequently severe ; and I could scarcely hope that I 
should be ever equal to the labors inseparable from the 
ministry of the gospel. But this was only a secondary 
objection : my principal difficulty arose from another source. 
As the servant of Christ, I did not dare to engage in any 
profession or service without being first convinced that it 
was agreeable to the will of my divine Master ; nor could 
I form any determination until I had obtained his permis- 
sion The duties and office of the ministry of the gospel 
especially, opened with such magnitude and high responsi- 
bility to my view^ that I feared I was w-holly unequal, and 
altogether unworthy of being employed in the sanctuary. 
I supposed it would be presumption in me to engage in this 
holy work ; and the words, Isa. 1:12, 'Who hath required 
this at your hand, to tread my courts?' were awful and 
impressive. 

" Convinced of the propriety and duty of acknowledging 
the Lord in all my ways, and particularly in a step of such 
importance, and believing that according to his promise he 
would direct my paths, I often prayed most fervently to 
obtain light and direction in this interesting object. Some- 
times encouraged to hope that I might proceed, and again 
cast down and desponding, I resolved to set apart a day, 
with fasting and prayer, to pour out my heart before the 
Lord, and plead for his instruction. Upon this solemn 
occasion, after fervent' supplications, reading the word, and 



REV. DR. JOHN H. LIVINTtSTON. 11 

serious meditation, I endeavored to arrange the subject; 
and the better to understand it in all its bearings, I com- 
mitted to writing in one column all the arguments in favor, 
and in another all those against it. These I maturely com- 
pared and disinterestedly pondered. Especially I endeav- 
ored most accurately to examine my motives and ascertain 
Ihe end I proposed, if I ever should enter into the ministry. 
I found in this scrutiny, And was sure there was no decep- 
tion, that I was solely prompted by a zeal to promote the 
glory of my divine Redeemer — by an ardent love for the 
souls of men, and a desire to bring sinners, by preaching 
the gospel, to the obedience of faith. I was conscious that 
I did not 'desire the office of a bishop' to gratify pride, 
indolence, or ambition, nor to promote my own personal 
advantage and profit, for I knew it would be a sacrifice of 
my secular interests and prospects ; but that in sincerity, 
and before God, it was to labor in his church — it was to 
advance the cause of truth and holiness, and in this service 
to express my gratitude for redeeming love. 

" But such was my fear of rushing inconsiderately and 
impiously into this solemn work, that I several times 
repeated these devotional exercises, and again set apart 
days for that purpose — still under the impression of those 
awful Avords, ' Who hath required this at your hand, to 
tread my courts?' Nor did I dare to come to any conclu- 
sion, nor should I ever have commenced the study of the- 
ology, unless it had pleased the Lord to hear my poor 
prayers, and convince me it was consistent with his holy 
will that I should devote myself to this arduous service. 

"I did not expect or desire any immediate revelation, 
nor did I pray for any extraordinary manifestation. I only 
wished for a removal of my doubts and fears, for a confir- 
mation of my motives and desires, and in this way to 
obtain a convincing and comfortable token of the divine 
approbation. Whenever I realized the voice of the Lord, 
saying, Whom shall I s^nd, and lulw ivill go for t(S ? the 



12 CONVERSION OF DR. LIVINGSTON. 

reply of my soul was, Here am I, se7id me. Yet still I 
hesitated to conclude that he would send me, or expect he 
would honor me with his message. After some weeks 
spent in these exercises, the result was that my doubts and 
fears were all entirely removed, and I began humbly to 
hope and be persuaded that I not only might commence 
the study, but actually must proceed. Every other door 
was shut against me, while a sincere desire for this work, 
from honest and sanctified principles, prevailed ; and I 
could not avoid considering all this as a divine response- 
as a gracious word of commission — and he said, Go. From 
that hour I never doubted of my duty, but have had incon- 
testable and continued proofs that my Lord had called me 
to the ministry, and would in mercy employ me in his 
vineyard. My only remaining burden now was, to obtain 
the spirit of that station, to be furnished with special tal- 
ents, to be instructed in the truth, and to be rendered 
faithful." 

Note. — The above record may be found in the able memoir of Dt 
Livingston, by the late Rev. Dr. Alexander Gunn. 



JVo. 540. 



THE 



SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 



BY MRS. KNILL. 




In the year 1819, I was in Sweden, and wished to hire 
a niirse-maid to take with us to St. Petersburgh. Among- 
those that offered themselves, was a tall, fine-looking young 
vroman, very neat in her person, of a lively temper ; and 
Doing pleased with her appearance, I engaged her and 
she entered our family. 

Louisa Soderbcrg — for that was her name — was, by 
birth, a Swede, and spoke the Swedish and German lan- 
guages. Her disposition was remarkably good. She nursed 



2 THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 

our infant well, and soon grew fond of it. In short, she 
was- so well able to do what was required in her situation, 
that we were quite satisfied with her, as far as her work 
was concerned. But it was easy to see that- Louisa was 
altogether without religion. She had never possessed a 
Bible, nor ever heard a chapter read, except when she 
went to church, which was but seldom. Though born in 
a Christian land, she was as ignorant of God's word as a 
heathen. And what was worse, she had the habit of 
taking the name of God in vain, and of crying out, "0 
Jesus I" upon every trifling occasion, whenever she was 
surprised or pleased or alarmed at any thing. 

Those who truly fear the Lord are much grieved and 
wounded in spirit, when they hear these sacred names 
abused. They are ready to say, with pious king David, 
" Horror hath taken hold of me, because of the wicked that 
forsake thy law." It is a bad sign, if you can hear the 
name of God profaned without being pained by it ; and 
worse still, if you can trifle with it yourself Our ears were 
shocked, and our hearts filled with sorrow and pity for our 
poor unconverted servant. I say unconverted: do you know 
what that word means? It means that her heart was not 
right with God — that it needed to be turned, changed, made 
new, by the Holy Spirit. Every one has a heart either 
converted or unconverted. In what state is yours ? Is it 
like Louisa's at the time I speak of? Then hear a little 
more about her history. 

One morning — it was the day after she came to live 
with us — I said to her, "Louisa, do you know that God has 
commanded us, saying, ' Thou shalt not take the name of 
the Lord thy God in vain?' and yet you are sinning in that 
way from morning to night. It quite pains us to hear you." 
"Does it, ma'am?" she replied, "0, then I must leave it 
off'. I suppose it is a habit with me ; and I never thought 
about it, whether it was right or wrong." I opened the 
German Bible, and showed her the commandment, Exod 
20 : 7. " There," said I, " read it ; can any thing be pla^n- 



THE SWEDISH ^URSE-MAID. 3- 

f 
er?" "So indeed it is," she replied, "plain enough; but 

no one ever told me of it before ; so I never thought there 
was any harm in it. However," continued she, with a 
smiling countenance, "if you, ma'am, will check me wheii- 
ever I forget, I will soon cure myself of this bad habit." 
In one fortnight, from no higher motive than to please her 
employers, she had entirely laid aside the sinful use of her 
Maker's and Redeemer's name in common conversation. 
How does her conduct condemn those who say, " I can't 
govern my tongue," or, " I can't control my temper," or, " I 
can't do what 1 know to be right." 0, that word cannot 
is too often used to cloak the want of will. But God looks 
at the heart ; and he knows, that where there is a disposi- 
tion and a desire and an effort, much can be done ; and that 
if we look to him for strength, his grace will be sufficient 
for us. Louisa did not seek divine grace at this time, for 
she was living "without God in the world;" but surely 
her conduct in the above instance may put to shame those 
vain excuses of inability, that is, of not being able to do 
right, by which people often try to shelter themselves from 
blame. 

I now began to teach our Louisa the first principles of 
the doctrine of Christ. But finding it difficult to say all'l 
wished to say in a foreign language Avhich I had not fully 
learned, it came into my mind, that one of the best means 
of making her acquainted with the blessed truths of the 
gospel would be to teach her to read and understand Eng- 
lish. So I asked her, "Louisa, do you wish to learn our 
language? If you like, I will teach you." The girl was 
delighted at the thought of learning English, and without 
delay we began our first lesson in the spelling-book. She 
made rapid progress, for her heart was in it ; and in about 
four months she could read the gospels with ease, and un- 
derstood many things that I said to her. Now I thought it 
was time to try to explain to her more fully the meaning 
of certain portions of Scripture, as she read them ; such as, 
what it is to be "born again ;" what is meant by "repent- 



4 THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 

aiicc toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ ,'' 
also about sin, and the great atoning work of Christ, and 
the way for a sinner to be made just with God and fit for 
heaven. Sometimes I spoke to her on one of these subjects, 
and sometimes on another, as the Lord enabled me. Be- 
sides, I now and then put a question to her, such as, "Do 
you, Louisa, feel yourself to be a sinner?" " Do you believo 
on the Lord Jesus Christ?" and so on. But I soon per- 
ceived that she did not like this. She would have had me 
let her go on reading, without explaining or asking her any 
questions ; for she did not like to have her conscience dis- 
turbed. In short, she displayed such a growing dislike to 
be spoken to about the salvation of her soul, that she would 
rather give up her reading-lesson, fond as she was of learn- 
ing English, than suffer any text to be applied to her own 
state and character. 

The enmity of Louisa's heart against the truth seemed 
to increase from day to day. She could now understand 
our family prayers, and the reading of the holy Scriptures 
night and morning, at which she was always present. But 
the more she knew of the gospel of God our Saviour, the 
more she resisted the light, and hated the humbhng doc- 
trines of the cross. I was greatly discouraged, and ready 
to give up all hope of seeing the heart of my child's nurse 
turned to the Lord. For a time my efforts for the good of 
her soul relaxed. But the good providence and abounding 
grace of God did not suffer things to continue thus. I was 
laid upon a bed of sickness, and Louisa became my kind, 
attentive nurse. Again I travailed in spirit for the salva- 
tion of her soul ; and resolved, by the help of God, further 
to use every method that I could devise for her conviction 
and conversion. And now my prayer for her was. "Lord, 
if thou wilt not honor me to be the instrument of bringing 
her out of darkness into thy marvellous light, choose whom 
thou wilt ; only let the glorious work be done, to the praise 
of thine own holy name." 

In the meantime, as I was slowly recovering, there 



THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. Q 

began to be much talk about a good German preacher, now 
the celebrated Gossner, who was publishing the glad tid- 
ings of redemption through the blood of Christ in a very 
powerful manner, to the awakening of hundreds upon hun- 
dreds in the city of St. Petersburgh. This news rejoiced 
me, and revived my hopes concerning Louisa. Accord- 
ingly, as soon as I was able to go out, I confided my child 
to a friend's care, and took Louisa with me to the large 
chapel where Gossner was expected to preach. I was not 
disappointed in the sermon : it was sound and faithful, and 
full of scripture truths put in such a way as to strike home 
to the conscience. On coming out, I turned to Louisa and 
said, "Well, what do you think of that sermon?" "I never 
heard such a sermon in my life," she replied, with a look 
expressing deep inward feeling, "and I hope I shall never 
hear the like again. It went through and through me, 
like a knife. I should soon be in my grave, if I were to 
hear such preaching as that." 

I cannot describe what I felt on hearing these words. 
It seemed clear to me that "the word of God" had proved 
"quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged 
sword," in the heart of this young woman, " piercing," as 
saith the Scripture, "even to the dividing asunder of sou] 
and spirit, and of the joints and marrov/." I knew that 
he who had wounded is able also to heal ; and I inwardly 
prayed that this soreness of mind might lead our Louisa to 
apply for help to Him who has said, " The whole need not 
a physician, but they that are sick." "I am glad," said 
I, "that you have felt so deeply. That which you have 
been hearing is the word of God; and when God speaks 
to us, we ought to feel." I said no more at that time, 
but walked home in silence, leaving Louisa to her own 
reflections. 

How mournflil a fact is it that many people sit and 
hear a sermon without any feeling of what is said. The 
preacher tells them, that "God is angry with the wicked 
every day ;" yet they do not feel the least fear or alarm. 

6* 



6 THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 

He tells them, that "God so loved the world, that he gave 
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life ;" yet they do 
not fesl any love to God for his "unspeakable gift," nor 
any stirrings of soul on the subject of their future everlast- 
ing condition. They hear the words, "Except ye repent, 
ye shall all likewise perish ;" yet no feeling of godly sorrow 
breaks in upon their spirit, and no tear of penitence is shed. 
They come away from divine worship just as they went, 
with their hearts as hard as the nether millstone. This 
is a great evil, and a very common one. Is it the case 
with any one who reads or hears this ? If so, it is no won- 
der that you are a stranger to the joys of religion ; for they 
who never tremble at God's word, who never weep on 
account of sin, and who never feel their need of a Saviour, 
cannot possibly enjoy the gladness of heart which flows 
from the divine favor. The time will come, however, 
when you m.ust feel, when you will be made to feel ; and 
what will you then feel? Not the short pain which 
Louisa felt when the Spirit of God pierced her "through 
and through" with a sense of her sin and danger, that she 
might flee to "the blood of sprinkling" for pardon and for 
peace. No ; it may then be too late for you to seek for 
mercy, and if so, what you must feel will be the gnawing 
of that worm which dieth not, and the consuming heat of 
that fire which is not quenched. But, bad as your state 
now is, you need not despair. The same way of escape 
that was open to Louisa is open also to you, whoever you 
may be. I invite you, therefore, to attend to the remain- 
der of her history; and may God be pleased to bless it to 
the salvation of your soul. 

Before I proceed, it is proper that I should say a word 
or two about that wicked spirit the devil. It is said in 
the Bible, that "when a strong man armed keepeth his 
palace, his goods are in peace." Now, by the "strong 
man" is meant Satan, who takes up his abode in the heart 
of every sinner, living and rioting in it like a prince in his 



THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 7- 

palace; and so long as he can hold possession of the unre- 
newed mind, he keeps every thing still and quiet, because 
he knows that, if there is any stir made about the way of 
life and godliness, it may end in his being turned out in 
favor of another and a better Master. Such was the case 
with Louisa. The great enemy of souls had been dwelling 
in her heart, and he had kept her in a false peace, which 
had never been seriously disturbed before. But now a 
stronger than Satan, even the Son of God himself, came 
in the power of his word and Spirit, and broke up the 
deadly calm which the devil had spread over her mind. 
But the evil one does not easily let go his prey ; and he 
struggled hard to keep his hold of poor Louisa. She was 
greatly shaken in spirit by her inward convictions ; yet still 
she tried to sing, and to be as merry as ever. But she 
could not throw off the solemn impressions which every 
fresh thought of the sermon revived in her soul, and which 
threw a sad and anxious cloud over her features. 

Another week rolled round, and again I bade Louisa 
get ready to accompany me to Gossner's chapel. She 
looked very unwilling, but of that I took no notice, and we 
went. It would make the story too long, were I to relate 
what passed on this and other occasions; and, indeed, I 
cannot distinctly remember all the conversations I held 
with her at these times. Suffice it to say, that she became 
less and less unwilling to attend the preaching of the wor- 
thy "Pastor Gossner," and at length showed an ardent 
desire to hear the word from his lips as often as I could 
spare her. 

And now the effect of the truth upon her mind became 
apparent. She read her Bible diligently, and frequently 
came to me for explanation of what she did not understand. 
When a public holiday came round, instead of dressing 
herself out as before, to go to the summer gardens, or other 
places of concourse, to see and be seen, she would ask 
leave to go to public worship; or if divine service was not 
observed on that day, she would stay quietly at home, 



8 THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 

singing hymns and attending to her daily business. Hei 
mind was now enlightened to perceive how a sinner can be 
just with God. She saw that by the deeds of the law she 
could not be justified; for it was when she compared her- 
self with the holy law of God, that she felt her sinfulness, 
and her need of a free and full pardon, through the grace 
that is in Christ Jesus. She was enabled to believe on 
the Lord Jesus Christ, and to lay hold on his righteousness 
for her justification. And 0, how sweet she found that 
gospel which reveals the love of God in the gift of his 
dear Son I From that time, she bound the promises to her 
heart, and lived upon them as her meat and her drink ; 
and the precepts were no less esteemed by her, for she 
loved holiness, and sought in all things to be conformed to 
the will of God. 

A year and a half passed away, and during that time 
Louisa was growing in grace and in the knowledge of her 
God and Saviour. In this interval, we had been induced 
to part with her, to fill a place of great trust in the family 
of our dear frieiid and brother, the Rev. Dr. Paterson. This 
arrangement was made for the advantage of all concerned, 
though not without some parting regrets on both sides. 
But as we were living within reach of the family which 
Louisa had entered, we frequently saw each other, and 
often spoke one to another of those things which are most 
worth talking about — our hopes for eternity. 

Soon after the time just mentioned, Louisa caught a 
severe cold, accompanied with a cough, which continued 
with great obstinacy for many months. Dr. Paterson used 
every possible means for her restoration to health. She 
was nursed with the utmost care ; but one sad symptom 
followed another, till cough, pain in the chest, and nightly 
perspirations began visibly to waste her strength. She was 
kindly invited by J. Venning, Esq., and his lady, to spend 
the summer at their country-seat, a beautiful place called 
"Leisure Hall;" and there, by the use of milk and fruits, 
together with as much fresh air as she could take, the dis- 



THE SWEDISH NURSE -MA ID. 9 

ease was checked for a season, so that we ahuost entertained 
a hope of her recovery. When, however, the cold weather 
set in again, and she ^-eturned to town, she soon grew 
worse than before, and judged, from her bodily sufierings, 
that she was not long for this world. 

I shall never forget one day, when she Avas telling me 
that the pain in her chest was almost past bearing, that I 
said to her, "What a delightful thought it is, that when 
the bodies of those who are in Christ shall be raised from 
the grave, they will feel no more pain, neither will there 
be any more sickness or sorrow I" and upon my saying this, 
she looked upon me with earnestness, and asked what I 
meant. To my great surprise, I found that she M'as not 
yet acquainted with* the doctrine of the resurrection. She 
had received all the truths which relate to the salvation 
of the soal, but her views and hopes had been confined to 
her never-dying spirit ; and though she must have read 
and heard of "the redemption of our body," yet she had 
never understood it, neither had she seen the full meaning 
of that glorious truth, "I am the resurrection and the life." 
In fact, till that moment she had thought that, the body 
was to perish, finally and for ever, in the grave. I turned 
to 1 Cor. 15, and read her a few verses respecting the body 
being "sown in corruption" and "raised in incorruption ;" 
"sown in weakness" and "raised in power," and so on; 
and I showed her some other passages where the same 
doctrine is taught. It is impossible for any one who has 
from childhood been familiar with the idea of a resurrec- 
tion of the body to life and immortality, to conceive the 
wonder and delight with which this dying saint beheld, for 
the first time, that provision has been made in the great 
scheme of mercy, not only for the salvation of one part of 
our nature, but for that of our whole being — body and soul. 
"This," said she, "seems the only thing that was \vanting 
to reconcile me to the thought of dying. Now I am more 
than reconciled : I am happy in the prospect. I did feel 
it hard to part with the body for ever; it seemed as if I 



10 THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID 

sliould not be entirely saved without it ; but 0, what grace 
is this, that even my poor body is to be redeemed from the 
power of death and the devil I"^ As she uttered these 
words, her countenance was lighted up with joy; and she 
seemed ready to say with Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou 
thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy 
salvation." 

The willing spirit of Louisa had not long to wait for 
dismission from its wasting tabernacle. A message was sent 
me that she was worse, and confined to her bed. I went 
to her without delay. She did not appear to be very near 
her end; but on my entering her room she said, "I have 
been longing for you to come. I am going fast. Do not 
leave me. 1 wish to die in your arms." I sat down by 
her bedside, and promised to remain with her. As if to 
chain me to her side, she said, "Put your arm under my 
pillow; let me feel it there." I did so; and began to 
speak to her of the glorious change that was approaching, 
and of the blessedness of being for ever with the Lord. 
Her mind was chiefly occupied with the Saviour's justify- 
ing righteousness ; and she quoted with great feeling the 
words, "He hath clothed me with the garments of salva- 
tion, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness." 
She told me that on the previous day her beloved pastor 
Gossner had been to see her, and had prayed with her. 
She derived much consolation from the sweet words of holy 
Scripture that he had brought to her remembrance, and 
blessed God for having cast her lot among those who c«,red 
for her soul. She spoke particularly of the Christian kind- 
ness of Dr. Paterson ; and just as she was faintly laboring 
to tell me of his unwearied care, he came into the room to 
inquire how she was. Observing her breathing much op- 
pressed, he said to her, "Ah, Louisa, what would you now 
do without Christ? It is hard work to die, even amid the 
hopes and comforts of the gospel;" and then, with a view 
to ascertain the nature of her experience, and the strength 
of her confidence in God, he added, "Is it not hard to die?" 



THE SWEDISH NURSE-MAID. 11 

"Hard to die I" she replied with something like surprise at 
the question; "Ono: my Saviour is so near ; there is noth- 
ing hard while he is with me." And as she said this, her 
eye assumed an expression of holy triumph, that showed 
how completely she was raised above the fears and pains 
of nature. What a victory I It was a privilege to behold 
the scene, and to hear such a dying testimony. Reader, 
will you be able to triumph thus? How are you living? 
Tell me that, and I shall be able to tell you how it is 
likely to be with you in your dying hour. Whoever thou 
art, I beseech thee, "Prepare to meet thy God;" for death 
will come to thee, as surely as it came to Louisa. May 
it find thee, as she w^as, ready to depart and be with 
Christ. 

The medical attendant having called to see his patient, 
pronounced that she might yet linger for two or three days, 
but gave it as his opinion that it was more likely she 
would go off in a few hours. At three o'clock I left her 
for a little while to take some refreshment ; and then re- 
turned to satisfy the dear invalid by placing my arm again 
beneath her head. She now fell into a stupor, which con- 
tinued till very late in the evening; and as it appeared to 
us that her strength might still hold out for days to come, 
it was agreed that we should watch her by turns, and that 
while one was resting, another should sit up for a few 
hours at a time. As I had been much excited during the 
day, I was urged to retire first ; and accordingly, about 
eleven o'clock, I went into an adjoining room and threw 
myself on the bed, where sorrow soon sealed my eyes in 
sleep, though much against my will, which would have 
led me to continue watching. I had been but an hour 
absent, when the dear female friend who had taken my 
place roused me with the words, "Come quickly, for 
Louisa is dying I" She had suddenly waked from her 
lethargy, and raising herself up in bed, with all the ener- 
gy of a person in full strength, had taken off her cap, and 
with uplifted eyes and hands exclaimed, in a sort of holy 



12 THE SWEDISH NUHSE-MAID. 

rapture, " Give me my ncAv dress I" — no doubt referring to 
the "white robe," Rev. 7 — then falling back upon her pil- 
low, she lay unconscious, as in death. In a moment I was 
at her side, and saw the last gentle breath escape her lips. 
Happy Louisa I I looked to see — would she breathe again ? 
But no ; she was at rest for ever. 

The remains of Louisa Soderberg sleep in the Volkof- 
sky burying-ground, in one of the suburbs of St. Peters- 
burgh. 

The following hymn was sung at her grave • 

for an overcoming faith, 

To cheer my dying hours, 
To triumph o'er the monster death, 

And all his frightful powers ! 

Jcyful, Avith all the strength I have, 
My quivering lips should sing, 
"Where is thy boasted victory, Grave? 
And where the monster's sting ?" 

If sin be pardoned, I'm secure ; 

Death has no sting beside : 
The law gives sin its damning povrer, 

But Christ, my ransom, died. 

Now to the God of victory 

Immortal thanks be paid, 
"VVlio makes us conquerors while we die, 

Through Christ, our living Head. 



I\o.341. 



[)ISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

OF THE 

CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 



BY EEV. ROBERT HALL, 

BRISTOL, ENGLAND. 



Let me first request your attention to the sources of 
DISCOURAGEMENT comiected with the Christian ministry. 
They are such as arise, in part, from the nature of the office 
itself, which is appointed for the purpose of converting 
souls to God, and conducting them in the path to eternal 
life. To you is committed the ministry of reconciliation, 
the office of promulgating that system of truth which is 
designed to renew the world, and sanctify the church. 
Under the highest authority you are enjoined to use your 
utmost eiTorts to open blind eyes, to turn them from dark- 
ness to light, and from the 'power of Satan unto God. 
The bare mention of such an employment is enough to 
convince us the difficulties attending it are of no ordinary 
magnitude, and to make us exclaim with an apostle, Who 
is sufficient for these things ? 

1. The minds of men are naturally indisposed to the 
reception of divine truth. The truths of the gospel are 
not merely of a speculative nature, which need only to be 
stated with their proper evidence in order to ensure their 
success: there, are in the mind latent prejudices against 
which they strongly militate, and which, when excited, 
naturally produce opposition. Mankind are disposed to 
think well of themselves, to view their virtues throuofh a 



2 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

magnifying medium, and to cast their deficiencies and vices 
into the shade. Dissatisfied, as they often are, with their 
outward condition, they have yet little or no conviction 
of their spiritual wants ; but with respect to these are 
ready to imagine, with the Laodiceans, that they are " rich 
and increased with goods, and have need of nothing." 
Hence, it is with extreme difficulty they are brought to 
acquiesce in the humiliating representations made by the 
oracles of God, of their native guilt and misery. They 
will readily confess they are not perfectly innocent or 
faultless : they have their imperfections as well as others, 
but they are far from believing that they are actually 
under the wrath and displeasure of the Almighty. They 
feel, on the whole, satisfied with themselves, and, by set- 
ting their supposed good qualities and actions against their 
bad ones, contrive to adjust their account in such a man- 
ner as leaves a considerable balance in their favor. On 
the mercy of God they feel no objection to profess their 
reliance ; deeming it more decent, and even more safe, 
than to challenge his justice ; but it is easy to perceive 
that the mercy of which they speak is of such a nature, 
that they would look upon it as an absurdity to suppose it 
could be withheld. In short, they are the whole who need 
no physician. 

The gospel presupposes a charge of guilt ; it assumes, 
as an indubitable fact, the universal apostasy of our race, 
and its consequent liability to perish under the stroke of 
the divine anger ; nor can you acquit yourself of the im- 
putation of handling the word of God deceitfully, if, from 
false delicacy or mistaken tenderness, you neglect the 
frequent inculcation of this momentous truth. You will 
find it, however, no easy matter to fasten .the charge 
on the conscience ; which, when it seems to be admitted, 
will often amount to nothing more than a vague and 
general acknowledgment, which leaves the heart quite 
unafl^ected. To convince effectually, is, indeed, the work 
of a superior Agent, 



OF THE CHRISTIAN illNISTRY. 3 

2. The very attempt to produce that humiliating sense 
of unworthiness and weakness which is essential to a due re- 
ception of the gospel, wiW frequently excite disgust, should it 
terminate in no worse consequences. You will be reproached 
as the messenger of evil tidings, and suspected of taking a 
pleasure in overwhelming the soul with dark and melan- 
choly forebodings. By a part of your hearers you will pos- 
sibly be regarded as an unnatural character, and as having 
in your religion a tincture of what is savage and inhuman; 
in consequence of which, they who refuse to profit by your 
admonitions will be apt to apply to you the language of the 
king of Israel, " I hate him, for he never prophesieth good 
unto me, but always evil." Of the common apostasy, one 
of the most distinguishing features is a stupefaction, an in- 
sensibility in relation to whatever is of a spiritual np.ture, 
together with a levity and carelessness which it requires the 
utmost effort of the Christian ministry to dispel. 

3. If you should be successful in awakening a salutary 
concern in the breasts of your hearers, and exciting them 
to inquire Avhat they must do to be &3LYed, fresh difficulties 
await you. The enemy will leave no artifice untried to 
divert it, and to wear it off, by such a succession of cares 
and vanities, that as much attention and address will be 
requisite to maintain it till it issues in a saving effect, as 
to produce it at first. There are many who, after appear- 
ing for a time earnestly engaged in the pursuit of salva- 
tion, have, in consequence of stifling convictions, become 
more callous and insensible than ever, as iron is hardened 
by being first heated in the fire, and then exposed to the 
cold. The grand scope of the Christian ministry is to 
bring men home to Christ ; but ere they arrive thither, 
there are numerous by-paths into which those who are 
awakened are in danger of diverging, and of finding a 
delusive repose, without coming as humble penitents to the 
foot of the cross. They are equally in danger of catching 
at premature consolation, and of sinking into listless de- 
spondency. "Withhold thy foot from being unshod," said 



4 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

the prophet Jeremiah, " and thy throat from thirst : but thou, 
saidst, "There is no hope : no ; for 1 have loved strangers., 
and after them will I go." In the pursuit of eternal good, 
the heart is extremely inconstant and irresolute ; easily 
prevailed on, when the peace it is in quest of is delayed, 
to desist from further seeking. During the first serious 
impressions, the light which unveils futurity often shines 
with too feeble a ray to produce that perfect and plenary 
conviction which permits the mind no longer to vacillate ; 
and the fascination of sensible objects eclipses the powers 
of the world to come. Nor is there less to be apprehended 
from another quarter. The conscience, roused to a just 
sense of the danger to which the sinner is exposed by his 
violation of the laws of God, is apt to derive consolation 
from this very uneasiness ; by which means it is possible 
that the alarm, which is chiefly valuable on account of its 
tendency to produce a consent to the overtures of the gospel, 
may ultimately lull the mind into a deceitful repose. The 
number we fear is not small, of those who, though they 
have never experienced a saving change, are yet under no 
apprehensions respecting their state, merely because they 
can remember the time when they felt poignant convic- 
tions. Mistaking what are usually the preliminary steps 
to conversion, for conversion itself, they deduce from their 
former apprehensions an antidote against present fears ; 
and from past prognostics of danger, an omen of their 
future safety. With persons of this description the flashes 
of a superficial joy, arising from a presumption of being 
already pardoned, accompanied with some slight and tran- 
sient relishes of the word of God, are substituted for that 
new birth, and that lively trust in the Redeemer, to which 
the promise of salvation inseparably belongs. Such were 
those who received the seed into stony ground, and" who, 
having heard the word of God, anon with joy received it, 
but having no depth of earth it soon withered away. 
Others endeavor to soothe the anguish of their minds by a 
punctual performance of certain religious exercises, and a 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 6 

partial reformation of conduct ; in consequence of which, 
they sink into mere formalists, and confounding the instru- 
ments of religion with the end, their apparent melioration 
of character diverts their attention from their real wants, 
and, by making them insensible of the extent of their 
malady, obstructs their cure. Instead of imploring the 
assistance of the great Physician, and implicitly complying 
with his prescriptions, they have recourse to palliatives, 
which assuage the anguish and the smart, without reach- 
ing the seat, or touching the core of the disorder. 

Were the change which the gospel proposes to effect 
less fundamental and extensive than it is, we might the 
more easily flatter ourselves with being able to carry its 
designs into execution. Did it aim merely to polish the 
exterior, to tame the wildness and prune the luxuriance of 
nature, without the implantation of a new principle, the 
undertaking would be less arduous. But its scope is much 
higher ; it proposes not merely to reform, but to renew ; 
not so much to repair the moral edifice, as to build it 
afresh ; not merely by the remonstrances of reason and the 
dictates of prudence to engage men to lay a restraint upon 
their vices, but by the inspiration of truth to become new 
creatures. The effects of the gospel on the heart are com- 
pared by the prophet to the planting of a wilderness, where 
what was barrenness and desolation before is replenished 
with new productions.' " I will plant in the wilderness 
the cedar, the shittah-tree, and the myrtle and the oil- 
tree ; I will set in the desert the fir-tree, and the pine, and 
the box-tree together ; that they may see and know and 
consider, and understand together, that the hand of the 
Lord hath done this." Although the change is frequentlv 
slow, and the Spirit of God, in effecting it, may proceed 
by imperceptible steps and gentle insinuations, the issue is 
invariably thesame ; nor can any representation do justice 
to its dignity. How great the skill requisite in those who 
are to be the instruments of producing it. 

To arrest the attention of the careless, to subdue the 



6 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUTPCRTS 

pride and soften the obduracy of the human heart, so that 
it shall stoop to the authority of an unseen Saviour, is a 
task which surpasses the utmost efibrts of human ability 
unaided by divine power. In attempting to realize the 
design of the Christian ministry, we are proposing to call 
the attention of men from the things which are seen and 
temporal, to things unseen and eternal ; to conduct them 
from a life of sense to a life of faith ; to subdue, or weaken 
at least, the influence of a world which, being always 
present, is incessantly appealing to the senses ; and to 
solicit the heart in favor of a state, whose very existence 
is ascertained only by testimony. We call upon therai to 
crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts, to deny the 
strongest and most inveterate propensities, and to renounce 
the enjoyments which they have tasted and felt, for the 
sake of a happiness for which they have no relish. We 
must charge them, as they value their salvation, not to 
love the world, who have been accustomed to make it the 
sole object of their attachment, and to return to their 
allegiance to that almighty and invisible Ruler from whom 
they have deeply revolted. We present to them, it is true, 
" a feast of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees 
well refined ;" we invite them to entertainments more 
ample and exquisite, than, but for the gospel, it had 
entered into the heart of man to conceive ; but we address 
our invitations to minds fatally indisposed, alienated from 
the life of God, with little sense of the value of his favor 
and no delight in his converse. The souls we address, 
though originally formed for these enjoyments, and utterly 
incapable of being happy without them, have lost, through 
the fall, that right taste and apprehension of things, which 
is requisite for the due appreciation of these blessings ; and, 
like Ezekiel, we prophesy to dry bones in the valley of 
vision, which will never live but under the visitation of that 
breath which bloweth where it listeth. This indisposition 
to the things of God, so radical and incurable by human 
power, as it has been a frequent source of discouragement to 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 7 

the faithful minister, so it would prove an invincible obstacle 
to success, did that success depend upon human agency. 

4. To these difficulties, which arise from the nature of 
the work, abstractly considered, must be added those wliich 
are modified by a variety of circumstances, and which 
result from that diversity of temper, character, and situa- 
iio?i, which prevails in our auditory. To the several 
classes of which it consists, it is necessary "rightly to divide 
the word of truth, and give to every one his portion of meat 
in due season." The epidemic malady of our nature assumes 
so many shapes, and appears under such a variety of symp- 
toms, that these may be considered as so many distinct 
diseases, which demand a proportionate variety in the 
method of treatment ; nor will the same prescription suit 
all cases. A different set of truths, a different mode of ad- 
dress is requisite to rouse the careless, or to beat down the 
arrogance of a self-justifying spirit, from what is necessary 
to comfort the humble and contrite in heart ; nor is it easy 
to say which we should most anxiously guard against, the 
infusion of a false peace, or inflaming the wounds which 
we ought to heal. A loose and indiscriminate manner of 
applying the promises and threatenings of the gospel,* is 
ill-judged and pernicious ; it is not possible to conceive a 
more effectual method of depriving the sword of the Spirit 
of its edge, than adopting that lax generality of represen- 
tation which leaves its hearer nothing to apply, presents 
no incentive to self-examination, and, besides its utter 
inefficiency, disgusts by the ignorance of human nature, or 
the disregard to its best interests, it infallibly betrays. 
Without descending to such a minute specification of cir- 
cumstances as shall make our addresses personal, they 
ought unquestionably to be characteristic, that the con- 
science of the audience may feel the hand of the preacher 
searching it, and every individual know where to class 
himself The preacher who aims at doing good will 
endeavor above all things to insulate his hearers, to place 
each of them apart, and render it impossible for him to 



8 DISCOUEAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

escape by losing himself in the crowd. At the day of 
judgment, the attention excited by the surrounding scene, 
the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the ele- 
ments, and the last trump, will have no other effect than 
to cause the reflections of the sinner to return with a more 
overwhelming tide on his own character, his sentence, his 
unchanging destiny; and, amid the innumerable millions 
who surround him, he will mourn apart. It is thus the 
Christian minister should endeavor to prepare the tribunal 
of conscience, and turn the eyes of every one of his hearers 
on himself 

To men of different casts and complexions, it is obvious 
a corresponding difference in the selection of topics and the 
method of appeal is requisite. Some are only capable of 
digesting the first principles of religion, on whom it is 
necessary often to inculcate the same lessons, with the 
reiteration of parental solicitude : there are others of a 
wider grasp of comprehension, who must be indulged with 
an ampler variety, and to whom views of religion less 
obvious, less obtrusive, and demanding a more vigorous 
exercise of the understanding, are peculiarly adapted. 
Some are accustomed to contemplate every subject in a 
light so cool and argumentative, that they are not easily 
impressed with any thing which is not presented in the 
garb of reasoning ; nor apt, though firm believers in reve. 
lation, to be strongly moved by naked assertions even from 
that quarter : there are others of a softer temperament," 
who are more easily w^on by tender strokes of pathos. 
Minds of an obdurate make, and w^hich have been rendered 
callous by long habits of vice, must be appalled and sub- 
dued by the terrors of the Lord ; while others are capable 
of being drawn with cords of a man, with bands of love. 
Some we must save with fear, plucking them out of the 
fire ; on others we must have compassion, making a differ- 
ence. You will recollect that He who spake as never man 
spake, mild, gentle, persuasive in his addresses to the mul- 
titude, reserved the thunder of his denunciations for sane- 



OF THE CHRISTJAN MiNlSTRY. 9 

timonious hypocrites. In this part of our ministerial func- 
tion we shall do well to imitate St. Paul, who became all 
things to all men, that he might win some ; combining, in 
his efforts for the salvation of souls, the utmost simplicity 
of intention with the utmost versatility of address. 

May I be permitted to remark, though it may seem a 
digression, that in the mode of conducting our public min- 
istrations we are perhaps too formal and mechanical ; 
that in the distribution of the matter of our sermons wo 
indulge too little variety; and, exposing our plan in all its 
parts, abate the edge of curiosity by enabling the hearer to 
anticipate what we intend to advance. Why should that 
force which surprise gives to every emotion derived from 
just and affecting sentiments be banished from the pulpit, 
when it is found of such moment in every other kind of 
public address. I cannot but imagine the first preachers 
of the gospel appeared before their audience with a more 
free and unfettered air than is consistent with the narrow 
trammels to which, in these latter ages, discourses from the 
pulpit are confined. The sublime emotions with which 
they were fraught would have rendered them impatient 
of such restrictions ; nor could they suffer the impetuous 
stream of argument, expostulation, and pathos, to be weak- 
ened, by diverting it into the artificial reservoirs prepared 
in the heads and particulars of a modern sermon. Method, 
we are aware, is an essential ingredient in every discourse 
designed for the instruction of mankind : but it ought never 
to force itself on the attention as an object apart ; never 
appear to be an end instead of an instrument ; or beget a 
suspicion of the sentiments being introduced for the sake of 
the method, not the method for the sentiments. Let the 
experiment be tried on some of the best specimens of ancient 
eloquence ; let an oration of Cicero or Demosthenes be 
stretched upon. a Procrustes' bed of this sort, and if I am 
not greatly mistaken, the flame and enthusiasm which 
have excited admiration in all a«:es will instantly evapo- 
rate ; yet no one perceives a want of method in these im» 

VOL. XITl. 7 



10 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

mortal compositions, nor can any thing be conceived more 
remote from incoherent rhapsody. 

To return to the subject : whatever the mode of address, 
or whatever the choice of topics, there are two qualities 
inseparable from religious instruction ; these are affection 
and seriousness. In the most awful denunciations of the 
divine displeasure, an air of unaffected tenderness should 
be preserved, that, while with unsparing fidelity we declare 
the whole counsel of God, it may appear we are actuated 
by a genuine spirit of compassion. A hard and unfeeling 
manner of denouncing the threatenings of the word of God 
is not only barbarous and inhuman, but calculated, by 
inspiring disgust, to rob them of all their efficacy. If the 
awful part of our message, which may be styled the burden 
of the Lord, ever fall with due weight on our hearers, it 
will be when it is delivered with a trembling hand and 
faltering lips ; and we may then expect them to realize its 
solemn import, when they perceive that we ourselves are 
ready to sink under it. " Of whom I have told you before," 
said St. Paul, " and now tell you even weeping, that they 
are the enemies of the cross of Christ." What force does 
that affecting declaration derive from these tears I An 
affectionate manner insinuates itself into the heart, renders 
it soft and pliable, and disposes it to imbibe the sentiments 
and follow the impulse of the speaker. Whoever has 
attended to the effect of addresses from the pulpit, must 
have perceived how much of their impression depends upon 
this quality, which gives to sentiments comparatively trite 
a power over the mind beyond what the most striking and 
original conceptions possess without it. 

Near akin to this, and not inferior in importance, is the 
second quality we mentioned, seriousness. It is scarcely 
necessary to remark, how offensive and unnatural is every 
violation of it in a religious discourse, which is, however, 
of wider extent than is generally imagined — including not 
merely jesting, buffoonery, and undisguised levity of every 
sort, but also whatsoever in composition or manner is incon- 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 11 

sistent with the supposition of the speaker being deeply in 
earnest ; such as sparkling ornaments, far-fetched images 
and that exuberance of flowers which seems evidently de- 
signed to gratify the fancy, rather than to touch the heart 
When St. Paul recommends to Timothy that " sound 
speech which cannot be condemned," it is probable he 
refers as much to the propriety of the vehicle, as to the 
purity of the instruction. There is a sober dignity both of 
language and of sentiment, suited to the representations of 
religion in all its variety of topics, from which the inspired 
writers never depart, and which it will be our wisdom to 
imitate. In describing the pleasures of devotion, or the 
joys of heaven, there is nothing weak, sickly, or eflemi- 
nate ; a ckaste severity pervades their delineations, and 
whatever they say appears to emanate from a serious 
mind, accustomed to the contemplation of great objects, 
without ever sinking under them from imbecility, or 
attempting to supply a deficiency of interest by puerile 
exaggerations and feeble ornaments. The exquisite pro- 
priety of their representations is chiefly to be ascribed to 
their habitual seriousness; and this seriousness, to their 
seeing things as they are. 

Having touched on the principal difficulties attending 
the imhlic exercise of the ministry, it may be expected 
something will be said on its more private functions. To 
aflirm it to be the duty of a pastor to visit his people ofteji, 
is perhaps affirming too much ; the more frequently he 
converses with them, however, provided his conversation 
be properly conducted, the more will his person be endeared 
and his ministry acceptable. The seasonable introduction 
of religious topics is often of such admirable use, that there 
are few qualities more enviable than the talent of teaching 
from house to house ; though the modern state of manners, 
I am aware, has rendered this branch of the pastoral office 
much more difficult than in former times. In a country 
village, where there is more simplicity, less dissipation, 
and Ices hurry of busines^s than in large towns, prudent 



12 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

exertions of this kind may be considered as eminently 
proper and beneficial. The extent to which they shoultl 
be carried must be determined by circumstances, without 
attempting to prescribe any other rule than this, that the 
conversation of a Christian minister should be always such 
as is adapted to strengthen, not impair, the impression of 
his public instructions. Though it is not necessary, nor 
expedient, for him to be always conversing on the subject 
of religion, his conversation should invariably have a 
religious tendency, that whatever excursions he indulges, 
the return to serious topics maybe easy and natural. The 
whole cast of his character should be such as is adapted to 
give weight to the exercise of his ministerial functions. 
You are aware that moral delinquency in him produces a 
sensation as when an armor-bearer fainteth ; that he can 
neither stand nor fall by himself; and that it is impossible 
for him to deviate essentially from the path of rectitude, 
without incurring the guilt and infamy of Jeroboam who 
is never mentioned but to be stigmatized as he "who 
taught Israel to sin." "Be thou an example of the 
believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in 
faith, in purity." Instead of satisfying ourselves in the 
acquisition of virtue with the attainments of a learner, we 
must aspire to the perfection of a master ; and give to our 
conduct the correctness of a pattern. We are called to 
such a conquest over the world, and such an exhibition of 
the spirit of Christ, as shall not merely exempt us from 
censure, but excite to emulation. "Ye are the salt of the 
earth, ye are the light of the world," said our Saviour to 
his disciples, whom he was about to send forth in the 
character of public teachers. As persons to whom the 
conduct of souls is committed, we cannot make a wrong 
step without endangering the interests of others ; so that 
if we neglect to take our soundings and inspect our chart, 
ours is the misconduct of the pilot, who is denied the 
privilege of perishing alone. The immoral conduct of a 
Christian minister is little less than a public triumph over 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 13 

the religion he inculcates ; and when we recollect the 
frailty of our nature, the snares to which we are exposed, 
and the wiles of our adversary, who will proportion his 
efforts to the advantages resulting from his success, we 
must be aware how- much the necessity of maintaining an 
exemplary conduct adds to the difficulty of the ministerial 
function. 

With the utmost propriety of conduct, and the greatest 
skill exerted in your work, we dare not flatter you with 
the prospect of unmingled success. Under the most judi- 
cious method of treatment, the maladies of some will prove 
incurable, and they will perish under your hand. While 
to some the gospel is a savor of life unto life, to others it 
will prove the savor of death Unto death ; and in the 
course of your labors, you will meet with frequent disap- 
pointments where you have formed the most sanguine 
expectations. Some who did run well, will afterwards be 
hindered ; and of others who have clean escaped the pol- 
lutions of the world, through the knowledge of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ, being afterwards entangled 
therein, the latter end will be worse than the beginninj?. 
Many a Demas, it is probable, will forsake you, haying 
loved this present world ; and by many of your hearers, 
who now evince the most zealous attachment, you may 
hereafter be considered as an enemy, because you tell them 
the truth. In certain instances, your ministry will be 
attended with consequences which you cannot contem- 
plate without deep concern ; for the sword of the Spirit is 
an awful weapon, which will exert, where it fails to inflict 
a salutary wound, its destructive edge. Against those of 
your hearers who reject your message, though now an 
ambassador of peace and often a weeping suppliant at 
their feet, you will ere long appear a swift witness before 
God, and be compelled, by your voice, to exasperate the 
accents of vengeance, and augment the vials of wrath. 
You are set for the rising and falling of many in Israel. 

II. But it is time to turn to a more pleasing part of our 



14 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

6ubject, and to remind you of some ot the supports by 
which these sources of discouragement are balanced. 

1. The office you have undertaken is of divine institu- 
tion. The unhappy aisputes which have prevailed in the 
church, respecting the proper channels for conveying, and 
the legitimate mode of vesting it, are so far from weaken- 
ing or perplexing the evidence of this truth, that they may 
be considered as so many concurrent suffi-ages in its favor; 
since it is allowed on all hands, that the Christian min- 
istry is an ordinance of God — an expedient for the im- 
provement of mankind, of his devising, and supported by 
his authority. But of that wisdom which pervades the 
works of God, the church is the principal scene ; " to the 
intent," saith the apostle, " that unto the principalities 
and powers in heavenly places, might be knoM^i by the 
church the manifold wisdom of God."' Hence we may be 
certain that so leading a branch of its constitution as that 
under our consideration, cannot fail of being adapted, in 
the best possible manner, to promote the interest of relig- 
ion ; nor is it difficult to perceive, that if men are to be 
wrought upon by' reason and persuasion, the setting apart 
an order for the express purpose of instructing them in the 
concerns of salvation must have a beneficial tendency : an 
order, be it remembered, not appointed like the priests of 
pagan antiquity, for the performance of ceremonies, but for 
the inculcation of truth — not to conduct the pomp of lus- 
trations and sacrifices, but to "watch for souls as those 
that must give an account." Nothing similar to this was 
known in the heathen religions ; it is peculiar to Chris- 
tianity, and evincing the simple wisdom of its author, is as 
original in its conception as it is admirable in its effects. 
Its simplicity, its distance from whatever is dazzling in 
the eyes of mankind, is one of its highest recommenda- 
tions ; for the Christian minister is beautifully compared 
to a fisherman, who would only be embarrassed by those 
instruments and appendages which belong to more spki - 
did but less useful employments. 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 15 

2. Another consideration calculated to afford us en- 
couragement is. that the matcriaU of our icork are ready 
furnUhed to our hand, ana, at the same time, of a nature 
admirably adapted to our purjoose. Our office is that of 
stewards of the mysteries of the kingdom ; our duty faith- 
fully to dispense the stores which superior wisdom and 
opulence have provided. It is not necessary for us to 
stretch our invention in ihe discovery of topics and argu- 
ments fitted to move the mind and impel it in a right 
direction, which, if wq may judge from past experience, 
would be a most unpromising undertaking. A doctrine, 
full, pure, perfect, to which nothing can be added without 
debasing its spirit, nothing taken away without impairing 
its proportions, is committed to our-trust, to be retained 
and preserved just as we have received it, and delivered 
to our hearers in all its primitive simplicity. Like the 
works of nature, while it exhibits at first view an impress 
of its author, in the unequivocal character it bears of purity 
and majesty, it improves on a closer examination; and the 
more deeply it is investigated, thcr^ore the wisdom of the 
contrivance in its exquisite adaptation to the state and 
condition of mankind becomes conspicuous. As the -dis- 
covery of a way of salvation for a fallen race, of the method 
by which a guilty and degenerate creature may recover 
the image and favor of his Maker, which we must ever 
remember is its most essential characteristic, what is 
wanting to its perfection — what information or assurance 
beyond what it contains, calculated to awe, enlighten, 
convince, and encourage ? • The facts it exhibits, sup- 
ported by clear and indubitable testimony, are more extra- 
ordinary than ever entered the mind of man in its widest 
excursions, combining all the sobriety of truth with more 
than the grandeur of fiction ; and the doctrines connected 
with these facts by the easiest and most natural inference, 
are of infinite moment. To a serious mind, the truths of 
the Christian religion appear with such an air of unaf- 
fected greatness, that, in comparison with these, all other 



16 DISCOURAaEMEKTS AND STTPPORTS 

speculations and reasoni igs seem like the amusements of 
childhood. "When the c eity, the incarnation, the atone- 
ment, the resurrection of the Son of God, the sanctification 
of the church, and the piospects of glory have engaged our 
contemplation, we feel, m turning our attention to othei 
objects, a strange desceni, and perceive, with the certainty 
of demonstration, that as the earth is too narrow for the 
full development of thes3 mysteries, they are destined, b^ 
their consequences and effects, to impregnate an eternal 
duration. We are not at all surprised at finding that the 
ancient prophets searched into these mysteries with great 
but unsuccessful diligence, that the angels desire to look 
into them, or that the ap ostles were lost in the contempla- 
tion of those riches whic i they proclaimed and imparted. 
Are you desirous of fixing the attention of your hearers 
strongly on their everla'f-ling concerns? No peculiar re- 
finement of thought, no subtlety of reasoning, much less 
the pompous exaggeratiors of secular eloquence, are wanted 
for that purpose : you have only to imbibe deeply the mind 
of Christ, to let his doctriae enlighten, his love inspire youi 
heart, and your situation, in comparison with other speakers, 
will- resemble that of the angel of the Apocalypse, who 
was seen standing in tl e sun. Draw your instructions 
immediately from the Bible ; the more immediately they 
are derived from this source, and the less they are tinc- 
tured with human distinctions and refinements, the more 
salutary and the more efficacious. Let them be taken 
fresh from the spring. You will not satisfy yourself with 
the study of Christianity in .narrow, jejune abridgments 
and systems, but contemplate it in its utmost extent, as it 
subsists in the sacred oracles ; and in investigating these, 
you will permit your reason and conscience an operation 
as free and unfettered as if none had examined them be- 
fore. The neglect of this produces, too often, an artificiaj 
scarcity, where some of the choicest provisions of the 
household are rejected or overlooked. 

When we inculcate with so much earnestness an atten- 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 17 

tion to the mind of Christ as exhibited in the Scriptures, 
let us not be understood to exclude his precepts, or to coun- 
tenance for a moment the too frequent neglect of Christian 
morality. While you delight in displaying the riches of 
divine grace, conspicuous in the work of redemption, as 
the grand motive to love and trust in the Redeemer, you 
will not forget frequently to admonish your hearers, that 
he only loveth him who keepeth his sayings ; the illustra- 
tion of which, in their bearings upon the different relations 
and circumstances of life, will form, if you follow the 
apostolic example, a most important branch of your min- • 
istry. Not content with committing the obligation of 
morality to the arbitration of feeling, much less with 
faintly hinting at it as an obvious inference from orthodox 
doctrine, you will illustrate its principles with an energy, 
a copiousness, a fulness of detail proportioned to its acknow- 
ledged importance. You will not be silent on the precepts, 
from an apprehension of infringing on the freedom of the 
gospel, nor sink the character of the Legislator in that of 
the Saviour of the church. A morality more elevated 
and pure than is to be met with in the pages of Seneca or 
Epictetus will breathe through your sermons, founded on 
a basis which every understanding can comprehend, and 
enforced by sanctions which nothing but the utmost stu- 
pidity can despise — a morality of which the love of God, 
and a devoted attachment to the Redeemer, are the plastic 
soul, which, pervading every limb, and expressing itself 
in every lineament of the new creature, gives it a beauty 
all its own. As it is the genuine fruit of just and affect- 
ing views of divine truth, you will never sever it from its 
parent stock, nor indulge the fruitless hope of leading men 
to holiness, without strongly imbuing them with the spirit 
of the gospel. "Truth and holiness are, in the Christian 
system, so intimately allied, that the warm and faithful 
inculcation of the one lays the foundation for the other. 
For the illustration of particular branches of morals, we 
may consult pagan writers on ethics with advantage ; but 

7# 



18 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

in search of ^>rz72^zjrj/es, it is at our peril that we desert the 
school of Christ ; since we are complete in him, and all 
the moral excellence to which we can aspire is but Chris- 
tianity embodied, or if we may be allowed to change the 
figure, the impress of the gospel upon the heart. The per- 
fection of the Christian system, considered as the instru- 
ment of renovating the human mind, is the second con- 
sideration. 

3. The third consideration to which I would direct 
your attention is, that of its being the disj^ensaticni of the 
Spirit. To this the apostle refers, contrasting the Chris- 
tian with the Jewish institute, " Who also hath made us 
able ministers of the new testament ; not of the letter, 
but of the spirit : for the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth 
life. But if the ministration of death, written and engraven 
in stones, was glorious, how shall not the ministration of 
the spirit be rather glorious?" From this circumstance he 
infers the superior dignity of the Christian ministry. The 
miraculous gifts intended for a sign to unbelievers, and to 
aid the gospel during its first struggle with the powers of 
pagan darkness, have long since ceased with the exigency 
that called them forth ; but the renewing and sanctifying 
agency of the Spirit remains, and will continue to the end 
of time — the express declaration of our Saviour not admit- 
ting a doubt of its perpetuity. " I will pray the Father, 
and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may 
abide with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth, whom 
the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither 
knoweth him ; but ye know him, for he dwelleth with you, 
and shall be in you." To the world, who, in their unre- 
newed state, are unsusceptible of his sanctifying impress, 
he is promised, in the preparatory form of a Spirit of con- 
viction ; to believers he is promised as an hidwelling prin- 
ciple, an ever-present Deity, who consecrates the hearts of 
the faithful to be his perpetual abode. Hence the min- 
isters of Christ are not dependent for success on the force 
of moral suasion — not merely the teachers of an externa] 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 19 

religion, including truths the most momentous, and duties 
of the highest obligation ; they are also the instruments 
through whom a supernatural agency is exerted. And 
hence, in the conversion of souls we are not to compare 
the difficulties to be surmounted with the feeble resoui-^es 
of human power, but wdth His, with whom nothing is 
impossible. To this the inspired historian everywhere 
directs our attention, as alone sufficient to account for the 
signal success which crowned the labors of the first 
preachers. If a great multitude at Antioch turned to the 
Lord, it was because the " hand of the Lord was with 
them ;" if Lydia believed, in consequence of giving atten- 
tion to the things that were spoken, it was because " the 
Lord opened her heart ;" if Paul planted, and Apollos 
watered, with success, it was the Lord who gave the 
increase ; and highly as they M^ere endow^ed, and though 
invested with such extensive authority, they did not pre- 
sume to count upon any thing from themselves ; their suf- 
ficiency was of God. As the possibility of such an influ- 
ence can be doubted by none who believe in a Deity, so 
the peculiar consolation derived from the doctrine that 
asserts it, seems to be this, that it renders what yi'-as 
merely possible, certain ; what was before vague and 
undetermined, fixed ; by reducing the interposition of the 
Almighty in the concerns of salvation to a stated method 
and a settled law. The communication of the Spirit to 
render the gospel efficacious, becomes a standing ordi- 
nance of heaven, and a full security for its final triumph 
over every opposing force. " My w^ord," said the Lord by 
the prophet, " shall not return unto me void, but shall 
accomplish the thing whereunto I sent it." At the same 
time, connected as it is by the very tenor of the promise 
with the publication of an external revelation, and pro- 
fessing to set- its seal only to the testimony of Jesus, it 
precludes as far as possible every enthusiastic pretension, 
by leaving the appeal to Scripture as full and uncontrolled 
a<! if no such agoncr were supposed. It is strange that 



20 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

any should be found to deny a doctrine so consolatory, 
under the pretence of its derogating from the sufficiency of 
revelation, when it not only ascribes to it all the efficacy 
that can belong to an instrument or external means, but 
confers the highest honor upon it by marking it out as the 
only fountain of instruction to which the agency of the 
Deity is inseparably attached. The idea of his immediate 
interposition must necessarily increase our veneration for 
whatever is connected with it ; and let it ever be remem- 
bered, that the internal illumination of the Spirit is merely 
intended to qualify the mind for distinctly perceiving and 
cordially embracing those objects, and no other, which are 
exhibited in the written word. To dispel prejudice, to 
excite a disposition for inquiry, and to infuse that love of 
the truth without which we can neither be transformed 
by its power nor bow to its dictates, is the grand scope of 
spiritual agency; and how this should derogate from the 
dignity of the truth itself, it is not easy to conceive. The 
inseparable alliance between the Spirit and the word 
secures the harmony of the divine dispensations ; and since 
that Spirit of truth can never contradict himself, whatever 
impulse he may give, whatever disposition he may com- 
municate, it involves no irreverence towards that divine 
Agent to compare his operations with that standing reve- 
lation which, equally claiming him for its author, he has 
expressly appointed for the trial of the spirits. 

Let me earnestly entreat you, by keeping close to the 
fountain of grace, to secure a large measure of its influ- 
ence. In your private studies, and in your public per- 
formances, remember your absolute dependence on superior 
aid : let your conviction of this dependence become so deep 
and practical as to prevent your attempting any thing in 
your own strength — after the example of St. Paul, who, 
when he had occasion to advert to his labors in the gospel, 
checks himself by adding, with ineffable modesty, "^Yet 
not I, but the grace of God that was with me." From 
that vivid perception of truth, that full assurance of faitli. 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 2\ 

which is its inseparable attendant, you will derive unspeak 
able advantage in addressing your hearers ; a seriousness, 
tenderness, and majesty will pervade your discourses, be 
yond what the greatest unassisted talent can command. 
In the choice of your subjects it will lead you to what is 
most solid and useful, while it enables you to handle them 
in a manner the most efficacious and impressive. Pos- 
sessed of this celestial unction, you will not be under 
the temptation of neglecting a plain gospel in quest of 
amusing speculations or unprofitable novelties ; the most 
ordinary topics will open themselves with a freshness and 
interest, as though you had never considered them before ; 
and "the things of the Spirit" will display their inex- 
haustible variety and depth. You will pierce the invisible 
world — you will look, so to speak, into eternity, and pre- 
sent the essence and core of religion, while too many 
preachers, for want of spiritual discernment, rest satisfied 
with the surface and the shell. It will not allow us to 
throw one grain of incense on the altar of vanity ; it Avill 
make us forget ourselves so completely, as to convince our 
hearers we do so ; and displacing every thing else from the 
attention, leave nothing to be felt or thought of but tjie 
majesty of truth and the realities of eternity. 

In proportion to the degree in which you possess this 
sacred influence, will be the earnestness with which you 
implore it in behalf of your hearers. Often will you bow 
the knee to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
that he will grant unto them the Spirit of wisdom and 
revelation in the knowledge of him ; the eyes of their 
understanding being enlightened, that they may know 
what is the hope of his calling, and what are the riches of 
the glory of his inheritance among the saints 

On the one hand it deserves attention, that the most 
eminent and successful preachers of the gospel in diflerent 
communities, a Brainerd, a Baxter, and a Swartz, have 
been the most conspicuous for a simple dependence upon 
spiritual aid ; and, on the other, that no success whatever 



22 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

has attended the ministrations of those by whom this doc 
trine has been either neglected or denied. They have met 
with such a rebuke of their presumption in the total fail- 
ure of their efforts, that none will contend for the reality 
of divine interposition as far as theTj are concerned ; for 
when has the arm of the Lord been revealed to those pre- 
tended teachers of Christianity, who believe there is no 
such arm ? We must leave them to labor in a field, 
respecting which God has commanded the clouds not to 
rain upon it. As if conscious of this, of late they have 
turned their efforts into a new channel, and despairing of 
the conversion of sinners, have confined themselves to the 
seduction of the faithful ; in which, it must be confessed, 
they have acted in a manner perfectly consistent with 
their principles — the propagation of heresy requiring at 
least no divine assistance. 

4. Let me request you to consider the dignity and 
lmporta7ice of the profession which you have assumed. 
If the dignity of an employment is to be estimated, not by 
the glitter of external appearances, but by the magnitude 
and duration of the consequences involved in its success, 
the ministerial function is a high and honorable one. 
Though it is not permitted us to magnify ourselves, we 
may be allowed to magnify our office ; and, indeed, the 
juster the apprehensions we entertain of what belongs to 
it, the deeper the conviction we shall feel of our defects. 
Independently of every other consideration, that office 
cannot be mean which the Son of God condescended to 
sustain ; for the word which we preach first began to be 
spoken by the Lord; and while he sojourned upon earth, 
that Prince of life was chiefly employed in publishing his 
own religion. That office cannot be mean, whose end is 
the recovery of man to his original purity and happiness, 
the illumination of the understanding, the communication 
of truth, and the production of principles which will bring 
forth fruit unto everlasting life. As the material part of 
the creation was formed for the sake of the immaterial, 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 23 

and of the latter the most momentous characteristic is its 
moral and accountable nature, or in other words, its 
capacity of virtue and of vice, that labor cannot want 
dignity which is exerted in improving man in his highest 
character, and fitting him for his eternal destination. 
Here alone is certainty and durability ; for however 
highly we may esteem the arts and sciences, which polish 
our species and promote the welfare of society — whatever 
reverence we may feel and ought to feel for those laws 
and institutions whence it derives the security necessary 
for enabling it to enlarge its resources and develope its 
energies, we cannot forget that these are but the embel- 
lishments of a scene we must shortly quit — the decora- 
tions of a theatre,, from which the eager spectators and 
applauded actors must soon retire. " The end of all 
things is at hand." Vanity is inscribed on every earthly 
pursuit, on all sublunary labor ; its materials, its instru- 
ments, and its objects will alike perish. An incurable 
taint of mortality has seized upon, and will consume them 
ere long. The acquisitions derived from religion, the 
graces of a renovated mind, are alone permanent. This 
is the mystic inclosure, rescued from the empire of change 
and death ; this is the field which the Lord has blessed ; 
and this word of the kingdom, the seed which alone pro- 
duces immortal fruit, the very bread of life, with which, 
under a higher economy, the Lamb in the midst of the 
throne will feed his flock and replenish his elect through 
eternal ages. How high and awful a function is that 
which proposes to establish in the soul an interior domin- 
ion ; to illuminate its powers by a celestial light ; and 
introduce it to an intimate, ineflable, and unchanging 
alliance with the Father of spirits. What an honor to be 
employed as the instrument of conducting that mysterious 
process by which men are born of God ; to expel from the 
heart the venom of the old serpent ; to purge the con- 
science from invisible stains of guilt ; to release the pas- 
sions from the bondage of corruption, and invite them to 



2'1 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

soar aloft into the regions of uncreated light and beauty , 
to say to the prisoners, Go forth ; to them that are \v 
darkness, Show yourselves I These are the fruits which 
arise from the successful discharge of the Christian min- 
istry; these the effects of the gospel, wherever it becomes 
the power of God unto salvation ; and the interests which 
they create, the joy which they diffuse, are felt in other 
M^orlds. 

In insisting on the dignity attached to the ministerial 
office, it is far from my intention to supply fuel to vanity, 
or suggest such ideas of yourself as shall tempt you to 
lord it over God's heritage. Let the importance of your 
station be rather felt and acknowledged in its beneficial 
results, than ostentatiously displayed ; xmd the conscious- 
ness of it, instead of being suffered to evaporate in authori- 
tative airs and pompous pretensions, produce a concentra- 
tion of your powers. If the great apostle was content to 
be a helper of the joy, without claiming dominion over the 
faith of his converts, how far should we be from advancing 
such a claim. If he served the Lord with humility and 
many tears ; if he appeared among the churches which he 
planted, in fear, and in weakness, and with much trem.- 
bling, we may learn how possible it is to combine with true 
dignity the most unassuming deportment, and the deepest 
conviction of our weakness and unworthiness with a vig 
orous discharge of whatever belongs to the apostolic, much 
more to the pastoral office. The proper use to be made of 
such considerations as have now been suggested, is to stir 
up the gift which is in us, to apply ourselves to our work 
with becoming resolution, and anticipate, in dependence on 
the divine blessing, important effects. The moment we 
permit ourselves to think lightly of the Christian ministry, 
our right arm is withered ; nothing but imbecility and 
relaxation remains. For no man ever excelled in a pro- 
fession to which he did not feel an attachment bordering 
on enthusiasm ; though what in other professions is enthu- 
siasm, is in ours the dictate of sobriety and truth. 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 25 

5. Kecollect, for your encouragement, the reward that 
aicaits the faithful minhter. Such is the mysterious con- 
descension of divine grace, that although it reserves to 
itself the exclusive honor of being the fountain of all, yet, 
by the employment of human agency in the completion of 
its designs, it contrives to multiply its gifts and to lay a 
foundation for eternal rewards. When the church in the 
perfection of beauty shall be presented to Christ as a bride 
adorned for her husband, the faithful pastor will appear as 
the friend of the bridegroom, who greatly rejoices because 
of the bridegroom's voice. His joy will be the joy of his 
Lord, inferior in degree, but of the same nature and arising 
from the same sources ; while he will have the peculiar 
happiness of reflecting that he has contributed to it — con- 
tributed, as an humble instrument, to that glory and felic- 
ity of which he will be conscious he is utterly unworthy 
to partake. To have been himself the object of mercy, to 
have been the means of imparting it to others, and of dis- 
pensing the unsearchable riches of Christ, Avill produce a 
pleasure which can never be adequately felt or understood, 
until we see him as he is. From that oneness of spirit, 
from that inseparable conjunction of interest, which will 
then be experienced in its utmost extent, will arise a 
capacity of sharing the triumph of the Redeemer, and of 
participating in the delight with which he will survey his 
finished work, when a new and fairer creation shall arise 
Dut of the ruins of the first. And is this the end, he Avill 
exclaim, of all my labors, my toils, and watchings, my 
expostulation with sinners, and my efforts to console the 
faithful ; and is this the issue of that ministry under which 
I was often ready to sink ; and this the glory of which I 
heard so much, understood so little, and announced to my 
hearers with lisping accents and a stammering tongue I 
Well might it be styled the glory " to be revealed." Au- 
spicious day on which I embarked in this undertaking — on 
which the love of Christ, with a sweet and sacred vio- 
lence, impelled me to feed his sheep and to feed his lambs. 



26 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

With what emotion shall we, who being intrusted with so 
holy a ministry, shall find mercy to be faithful, hear that 
voice from heaven, "Rejoice and be glad, and give honor 
to him ; for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his 
wife hath made herself ready." With what rapture shall 
we recognize, amidst an innumerable multitude, the seals 
of our ministry, the persons whom we have been the means 
of conducting to that glory. 

Hence, we discern the futility of the objection against 
the doctrine of future rewards, drawn from an apprehen- 
sion, that to be actuated by such a motive argues a mean 
and mercenary disposition ; since the reward to which we 
aspire, in this instance at least, grows out of the employ- 
ment in which we are engaged, and will consist in enjoy- 
ments which can only be felt and perceived by a refined 
and elevated spirit. The success of our undertaking will 
in reality reward itself by the complete gratification it will 
afford to the sentiments of devotion and benevolence which, 
in their highest perfection, form the principal ingredient in 
future felicity. To have cooperated in any degree towards 
the accomplishment of that purpose of the Deity to recon- 
cile all things to himself by reducing them to the obedience 
of his Son, which is the ultimate end of all his works — to 
be the means of recovering, though it were but an incon- 
siderable portion of a lapsed and degenerate race to eternal 
happiness, will yield a satisfaction exactly commensurate 
to the force of our benevolent sentiments, and the degree 
of our loyal attachment to the supreme Potentate. The 
consequences involved in saving a soul from death and hid- 
ing a multitude of sins, will be duly appreciated in that 
world where the worth of souls and the malignity of sin 
are fully understood ; while to extend the triumphs of the 
Redeemer by forming him in the hearts of men, will pro- 
duce a transport which can only be equalled by the grati- 
tude and love we shall feel towards the Source of all our 
good. 

Before I close this discourse, let me suggest one reflec- 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 27 

tion which so naturally arises from the view we have taken 
of the ministerial office, that I cannot think it right to pass 
it over in silence : the advantages possessed by the Chris- 
tian minister for the cultivation of iierwnal ijiety . " Blessed 
is the man," said the royal psalmist, " whom thou choosest, 
and causest to approach unto thee ; blessed are they that 
dwell in thy house, they Avill be still praising thee." If 
he was so strongly impressed with a conviction of the high 
privilege annexed to the priesthood, by virtue of its being 
allowed a nearer approach to God in the services of the 
sanctuary, the situation of a Christian minister is not less 
distinguished, nor less desirable. It is the only one in 
which our general calling as Christians and our particular 
calling as men perfectly coincide. In a life occupied in 
actions that terminate in the present moment, and in cares 
and pursuits extremely disproportionate to the dignity of 
our nature, but rendered necessary by the imperfections of 
our state, it is but little of their time that the greater 
part of mankind can devote to the direct and immediate 
pursuit of their eternal interests. A few remnants snatched 
from the business of life is all that most can bestow. In 
our profession, the full force and vigor of the mind may be 
exerted on that which will employ it for ever: owreligion, 
the final centre of repose, the goal to which all things 
tend, which gives to time all its importance, to eternity 
all its glory ; apart from which man is a shadow, his very 
existence a riddle, and the stupendous scenes which sur- 
round him as incoherent and unmeaning as the leaves 
which the sybil scattered in the wind. Our inaptitude to 
be affected in any measure proportionate to the intrinsic 
value of the interest in which we are concerned, and the 
objects with which we are conversant, is partly to be 
ascribed to the corruption of nature, partly to the limita- 
tion of our facuhies. As far as this disproportion is capa- 
ble of being corrected, the pursuits connected with our 
office are unquestionably best adapted to that purpose, by 
closely fixing the attention on objects which can never be 



28 DISCOURAGEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

contemned but in consequence of being forgotten, nor ever 
surveyed with attention without filling the Avhoie sphere 
of vision Though the scene of our labor is on earth, the 
things to which it relates subsist in eternity. We can 
give no account of our office, much less discharge any 
branch of it with propriety and effect, without adverting 
to a future state of being ; while, in a happy exemption 
from the tumultuous cares of life, our only concern with 
mankind, as far as it respects our official character, is to 
promote their everlasting welfare — our only business on 
earth, the very same that employs those exalted spirits 
who are sent forth on embassies of mercy, "to minister for 
them who shall be heirs of salvation." Our duties and 
pursuits are distinguished from all others by their imme- 
diate relation to the ultimate end of human existence ; so 
that while secular employments can be rendered innocent 
only by an extreme care to avoid the pollutions which they 
are so liable to contract, the ministerial functions bear an 
indelible impress of sanctity. The purposes accomplished 
by the ministry of the gospel in the restoration of a fallen 
creature to the image of his Maker, are not among the 
things tulhich ivere made for man ; they are the things for 
which man teas made; since, without regard to time or 
place, they are essential to his perfection and happiness. 
How much of heaven is naturally connected with an office 
whose sole purpose is to conduct man thither ; and what 
a superiority to the love of the world may be expected 
from men who are appointed to publish that dispensation 
which reveals its danger, detects its vanity, rebukes its 
disorders, and foretells its destruction. 

He must know little of the world, and still less of his 
own heart, who is not aware how difficult it is, amidst the 
corrupting examples which abound, to maintain the spirit 
of devotion unimpaired, or to preserve in their due force 
and delicacy those vivid moral impressions, that quick per- 
ception of good and instinctive abhorrence of evil which 
form the chief characteristic of a pure and elevated mind. 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 29" 

These, like the morning dew, are easily brushed olT in the 
collisions of worldly interest, or exhaled by the meridian 
sun. Heuce the necessity of frequent intervals of retire- 
ment, when the mind may recover its scattered powers, 
and renew its strength by a devout application to the 
Fountain of all grace. 

To the ordinary occupations of life we are rather in- 
debted for the trial of ©ur virtue, than for the matter or the 
motive ; and however criminal it would be to neglect 
them in our present state, they can only be reduced under 
the dominion of religion by a general intention of pleasing 
God. But in carrying into eflect the designs of the gos- 
pel, we are communicating that pure element of good, 
which like the solar light pervades every part of the uni- 
verse, and forms, there is every reason to believe, the most 
essential ingredient in the felicity of all created beings. 

If, in the actual commerce of the world, the noblest 
principles are often sacrificed to mean expedients, nnd the 
rules of moral rectitude made to bend to the indulgence 
of vain and criminal passions, how happy for us that we 
are under the necessity of contemplating them in. their 
abstract grandeur — of viewing them as an emanation of th^ 
divine beauty, as the immutable law of the creation em- 
bodied in the character of the Saviour, and illustrated in 
the elevated sentiments, the holy lives, and triumphant 
deaths of prophets, saints, and martyrs. We are called 
every moment to ascend to first principles, to stand in the 
council of God, and to imbibe the dictates of celestial wis- 
dom in their first communication, before they become 
debased and contaminated by a mixture with grosser 
elements. 

The bane of human happiness is ordinarily not so much 
an absolute ignorance of what is best, as an inattention to 
it, accompanied .with a habit of not adverting to prospects 
the most certain and the most awful. But how can we 
be supposed to contract this inadvertence, who are inces- 
santly engaged in placing truth in every possible lights 



30 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS 

tracing it in its utmost extent, and exhibiting it in all its 
evidence? Can we be supposed to forget "that day and 
that hour of which no man knoweth," who are stationed 
as watchmen to give the alarm, to announce the first 
symptoms of danger, and to cry in the ears of a sleeping 
world, " Behold, the Bridegroom cometh ;" or, however 
inattentive others may be to the approach of our Lord, can 
it ever vanish from our minds — who are detained by him 
in his sanctuary on purpose to preserve it pure, to trim the 
golden lamps and maintain the hallowed fire, that he may 
find nothing neglected or in disorder, when he " shall 
suddenly come to his temple, even the Messenger of the 
covenant whom we delight in ?" 

Men are ruined in their eternal interests by failing to 
look within — by being so absorbed in the pursuit of external 
good, as to neglect the state of their hearts. But can this 
be supposed to be the case with us, who must never hope 
to discharge our office with eflect without an intimate 
acquaintance with the inward man — without tracing the 
secret operations of nature and of grace — without closely 
inspecting the causes of revival and of decay in the spir- 
itual life, and detecting the most secret springs and subtle 
artifices of temptation ; in all which Ave shall be success- 
ful just in proportion to the degree of devout attention we 
bestow on the movements of our own minds ? 

Men are ruined in their eternal interests by living as 
though they were their own, and neglecting to realize the 
certainty of a future account. But it must surely require 
no small effort to divert our attention from this truth, who 
have not only the same interest in it with others, but in 
consequence of the care of souls, possess a responsibility of 
a distinct and awful character ; since not one of those to 
whom that care extends can fall short of salvation through 
our neglect or default, but his blood will be required at 
our hands. Where, in short, can we turn our eyes, with- 
out meeting with incentives to piety; what part of the 
Bacred function can we touch, wlrich will not remind us of 



OF THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 31 

the beauty of holiness, the evil of sin, and the emptiness 
of all sublunary good — or where we shall not find our- 
selves in a temple, resounding with awful voices, and 
filled with holy inspirations ? 

I feel a pleasing conviction, that, in consequence of 
deriving from your ministry that spiritual aid it is so 
adapted to impart, both your piety and usefulness will 
continue to increase, and by being intimately incorpo- 
rated, aid and strengthen each other, so that your profiting 
shall appear unto all men, and while you are watering 
others, you yourself shall be abundantly watered of God. 
Thus will you be enabled to adopt the language of the 
beloved apostle, " That which we have heard, which we 
have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and 
our hands have handled of the word of life, declare we 
unto you." Thus will you possess that unction from 
which your hearers cannot fail, under the divine blessing, 
of reaping the highest benefit ; for while we are exploring 
the mines of revelation for the purpose of exhibiting to 
mankind the "unsearchable riches of Christ," we are not 
in the situation of those unhappy men who merely toil for 
the advantage of others, and dare not appropriate to them- 
selves an atom of that precious ore on which their labor 
is employed ; we are permitted and invited first to enrich 
ourselves, and the more we appropriate the more shall we 
impart. It is my earnest prayer, my dear brother, that 
you may feed the church of the Lord which he has pur- 
chased with his own blood ; that you may make full proof 
of your ministry ; be instant in season and out of season ; 
teach, exhort, and rebuke, Avith all long-suffering and 
authority. Then, should you be spared to your flock, you 
will witness the fruit of your labors in a spiritual planta- 
tion, growing under your hand, adorned with " trees of 
righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be 
glorified ;" and w^iile neglecting worldly considerations, 
you are intent on the high ends of your calling, inferior 
satisfactions will not be wanting, but you will meet, among 



32 DISCOURAaEMENTS AND SUPPORTS, ETC. 

the seals of your ministry, with fathers and mothers, sisters 
and brothers. Or should your career be prematurely cut 
short, you will have lived long enough to answer the pur- 
poses of your being, and to leave a record in the consciences 
of your hearers, which will not suffer you soon to be for- 
gotten. Though dead, you will still speak ; you will speak 
from the tomb ; it may be, in accents more powerful and 
persu{*eive than your living voice could command. 



The Pulpit 



Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand, 

The most important and effectual guard, 

Support, and ornament of Virtue's cause. 

There stands the messenger of truth; there stands 

The legate of the skies: his theme divine, 

His office sacred, his credentials clear. 

By him the violated law speaks out 

Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet 

As angels use, the Gospel whispers peace. 

He stablishes the strong, restores the weak. 

Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart, 

And, armed himself in panoply complete 

Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms 

Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule 

Of holy discipline, to glorious war 

The sacramental host of God's elect. 

Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, 
We>e he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, 
Paul should himself direct me. I would trace 
His master-strokes, and draw from his design. 
I would express him simple, grave, sincere ;. 
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, 
And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste^ 
And natural in gesture ; much impressed 
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, 
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds 
May feel it too ; affectionate in look, 
And tender in address, as well becomes 
A messenger of grace to guilty men. Cowper. 



IVo. 543. 

MEIVIOIR 

OF 

NATHANIEL RIPLEY COBB, 

THE CHRISTIAN MERCHANT. 

Nathaniel Ripley Cobb was born iu Falmouth, now 
Westbrook, near Portland, Maine, November 3, 1798. His 
father died when he was very young, and in March 1802, 
he removed with his mother to Plymouth, Mass. Here he 
passed his childhood and youth till 1814, when he went to 
Boston, as a clerk to Messrs. Ripley and Freeman. His 
mind was drawn to the subject of religion ; and in May, 
1818, he was baptized by the Rev. Dr. Shai-p, and became 
a member of the Charles-street Baptist church. In Feb- 
ruary, 1819, he commenced business with Mr. Gorman L. 
Freeman, under the firm of Freeman and Cobb, which in 
1824 became the firm of Freeman, Cobb and Co. In Feb- 
ruary, 1820, he married Miss Sarah, daughter of Thomas 
Kendall, Esq. For some time previous to his death, his 
health declined and his strength wasted, till at length he 
was confined to his chamber ; and after several weeks of 
decay, he died on the 22d of May, 1834, in the thirty- 
sixth ^year of his age. His widow, since deceased, and 
an only son survived him. These are the principal facts 
of his brief history ; but how long was that life, if meas- 
ured by his activity and usefulness I 

Mr. Cobb resolved, at the commencement of his religious 
life, that he would serve the Saviour with all his power, in 
that sphere which seemed to be particularly assigned to him. He 
had not an opportunity to acquire extensive learning, and 
could not serve the church, to any considerable extent, 
by his voice or by his pen. But God endowed him with 
talents for business. He had great activity, acute penetra- 
tion into the character of men and into the signs of the 
times, rapid decision, and unconquerable perseverance. 

V>L. XUL 8 



2 NATHANIEL lilPLEy COBB. 

He displayed in tlie counting-room some of the mental 
qualities which made Napoleon the irresistible victor in 
a hundred battle-fields ; he accumulated property with 
great rapidity ; but he justly regarded his talent for busi- 
ness as an instrument which he ought to employ for the 
glory of his Saviour. He felt it to be his duty to use it 
in earning money for the cause of God, on precisely the 
same principle that it is the duty of the minister to devote 
his talent for preaching to the service of the Lord Jesus. 
He accordingly in November, 1821, drew up and sub- 
scribed the following very remarkable document : 

"By the grace of God, I will never be worth more 
than $50,000. 

"By the grace of God, I will give one fourth of the net 
profits of my business to charitable and religious uses. 

"If I am ever worth $20,000, I will give one half of 
my net profits; and if I am ever worth $30,000, I will 
give three fourths, and the whole, after $50,000. So help 
me God, or give to a more faithful steward, and set me 
aside. n. k. cobb." 

To this covenant he adhered with conscientious fidelity. 
He distributed the profits of his business with an increas- 
ing ratio from year to year, till he reached the point which 
he had fixed as a limit of his property, and then he gave 
to the cause of God all the money which he earned. At 
one time, finding that his property had increased beyond 
$50,000, he at once devoted the surplus, $7,500, as a foun- 
dation for a professorship in the Newton Theological Insti- 
tution ; to which, we may add, he gave on various occasions 
during his life, at least twice that sum. So scrupulous was 
he in his adherence to the covenant which he had made, 
that when peculiar circumstances required him to retain 
in his possession more than $50,000, he consulted judicious 
fi-iends whether he might do so consistently with the spirit 
of his pledge, provided he always held the surplus as really 
belonging to the cause of God. Here is the secret of that 
wonderful liberality which cheered so many hearts, and 
gave vig"or to so many institutions an(\ plans of benevo- 



NATHANIEL lUPLEY COBB. 3 

lencc. It sprung from steady religious principles. It was 
a fruit of tlie Holy Spirit. He always felt that God had 
bestowed on him a rich blessing in enabling him thus to 
serve his cause. On his death-bed he said to a friend, in 
allusion to the resolutions quoted above, "By the grace of 
God — nothing else — by the grace of God, I have been en- 
abled under the influence of those resolutions, to give away 
morob than $40,000 How good the Lord ha's been to me." 

But Mr. Cobb did not satisf}^ himself with contributing 
money. Kor did he bestow his funds with careless pro- 
fusion on every object which presented itself His active 
mind, his sound judgment, and his searching penetration 
were employed in examining the plans which were pro- 
posed to him for his support. He must be satisfied that 
the project was a wise one, before he would lend it his 
countenance and aid. His services as a member of numer- 
ous benevolent societies were highly valuable. He was 
ready to aid all wise designs which seemed to have a claim 
on him as a Christian, a philanthropist, and a patriot. 
The lectures and other meetings of the church rarely 
missed his presence, amid the greatest pressure of busi- 
ness. He loved to aid his pastor in the inquiry-meeting, 
and he rejoiced in the conversion of sinners. AVlrile on 
a journey for his health, he wrote, "I want to get back 
to Boston, to our Charles-street meetings. There is noth- 
ing here that will answer as a substitute for them. At 
home is the place for the enjoyment of piety, and fashion 
leads to any thing but religion." 

His affable manners, his talents, and his perfect integ- 
rity, won for him the confidence and esteem of all who 
knew liim. In his last sickness, he said, "I can put my 
hand on my heart and say, I am at peace with all men ; 
1 do not know of a man who would call himself my ene- 
my." So great was the confidence w^hich was felt in him 
by mercantile men, that he was selected as a referee and 
assignee so frequently, that he was obliged at last to de- 
cline such invitations. He was a generous friend to many 
young men, whom he assisted in establishing themselves in 



4 NATHANIEL RIPLEY COBB. 

business. He was always prompt, and was c>ften liearcl to 
say, "My way is, never to leave a thini^ till it \^ finished P 

He felt an aifectionato concern for the welfare of those 
who were employed in his counting-room. In his last sick- 
ness, lie said, "I wish I could see the young men in the 
store ; but I am not able. Tell them I die in hope, through 
Christ my Saviour. I am happy in the near approacli of 
death. Tell them to devote themselves to Christ, if-tliey 

would be prepared to die. Tell this to Mr. and Mr. 

. Tell them that Christ is precious." Of his love 

for his friends and family, we need not speak. A more 
affectionate husband and father never lived. 

The last days of Mr. Cobb's life were brightened by 
Christian hope. While he was able to converse, he ex- 
pressed his humble yet firm reliance on the Redeemer. 
He spoke with grateful joy of the Saviour's love and faith- 
fulness, and of his desire to depart and be with Christ. 

''May 1. Mr. Cobb said, 'Well, , I believe I am 

going to die ; but I think I am a Christian, and am ready 
to die. Within the last few da^^s, I have had some glori- 
ous views of heaven. It is indeed a glorious thing to die. 
I have been active and busy in the world ; I have enjoyed 
it as much as any one ; God has prospered me ; I have 
every thing to tie me here ; I am happy in my family ; I 
have property enough : but how small and mean does this 
world appear when we are on a sick-bed ! Nothing can 
equal my enjoyment in the near view of heaven. My 
hope in Christ is worth infinitely more than all other 
things. The blood of Christ, the blood of Christ — none 
but Christ. Oh, how thankful I feel that God has provided 
a way, that I, sinful as I am, may look forward with joy 
to another world, through his dear Son. Oh, what a glori- 
ous thought ! Only think, my dear brother, probably in a 
few weeks at most, I shall be in heaven, in the society of 
those saints of God, Ensign Lincoln, brother Freeman, 
Martyn, Doddridge, Watts, Cornelius, Mrs. Judson, the 
apostles and patriarchs ; but Oh, above all, in the presence 
of Jesus Christ. Yes, I shall see him face to face. Oh to 



NATHANIEL RIPLEY COBB. 5 

be in heaven, in the presence of God and Christ and the 
saints made perfect.' 

"May 2. lie said, *I feel that I am so near heaven, 
that I should hardly be willing- to go back. Jesus Christ 
is the anchor of my soul, sure and steadfast. Live near 
to Christ ; nothing is worth so much.' 

"To another friend he said, 'Dear brother, I feel that 
I have got nearly where Moses was :' and then repeated 
the verse in Watts, 

'Could I but climb where Moses stood,' etc. 
On repeating the last line, he said, * I think I feel so ; I 
think I can say with brother Lincoln, should I live to the 
age of Methuselah, I don't think I should ever find a better 
time to die.' 

" May 3. Having occasion to speak of some of his 
deeds of charity, he said, ' iVh, it is by the grace of God I 
have been enabled to do this. I would hang my naked 
soul on Christ, as a poor sinner. He is all mj salvation. 
Oh, I think he seems precious to my soul. The greatest 
evidence I have had in my life that I am a Christian, is 
that I have loved the society of God's people.' When 
mention was made of the mysteriousness of that provi- 
dence which seemed about to call him away, he replie'd, 
' Oh, it is all right. God saw that Spencer and Cornelius 
and Mrs. Judson could be spared, and he does not need 
me any longer.' 

" May t. He said, ' Dear brother, I have no transports, 
but it seems to me that I do love the Saviour. He does 
seem precious, and my soul rests on him. I can hardly 
realize that, in three or four days, I shall stand before God 
in heaven. Still, I feel that it will be so ; and tlien I shall 
see all the holy angels, and all the prophets and apostles, 
and all the saints and martyrs ; and very soon I shall 
meet with all my Christian friends who are now upon 
earth, and it wrll be a glorious and delightful meeting.' 

"May 12. He said, 'I am very weak, but I think my 
soul rests on Christ. I thought last nigiit, when I had an 
ill turn, that I was about to be released.' While kneel- 



6 NATHANIEL RIPLET COBB. 

ing to pray with him, he said, 'Pray that 1 may have pa- 
tience to wait till my change comes. God has thus far 
dealt very graciously with me. Oh, he is good.' 

*'May 13. Brother Cobb remarked, '1 am most of all 
concerned lest I should be impatient.' On being asked 
how his mind was to-day, he said, 'I think my soul is 
resting on Christ. I think the Lord would not have 
brought me so far to leave me to sink. I want to be gone. 
I think I cannot be denied.' 

"May 14. Found brother Cobb very feeble in body, but 
strong in faith, giving glory to God. He said, * I did hope 
to have been released before this.' On being asked, 'Does 
the way seem pleasant?' he said, * I think it does, although 
there is some dread of the agonies of death ; but I think 
it looks pleasant beyond.' On being asked, ' Can you rely 
on Christ?' he said, 'Oh, he is all mj^ hope. What could 
I do but for him?' 'Does he appear precious?' He said, 
' I think he does.' After a few words of prayer, he said 
very emphatically, 'Amen.' I saw him several times after 
this, but he was unable to converse." 

A short time before his death, he said to his wife, " If 
any thing shall be put on my coffin, let it be these words, 
^Christ is my hofeV This was accordingly done. 

The example of this servant of Christ affords instruc- 
tive lessons. 

1. It reminds us of the duty of every Christian \o serve 
the Saviour with whatever kind and degree of talent the 
Lord may have given him. The Saviour has displayed 
his wisdom and goodness by employing various instru- 
ments in the establishment of his kingdom on the earth. 
He requires every believer to live, not for himself, but for 
his Lord. He admits every Christian to the high privilege 
of sharing in the toils and rewards of his service. Every 
degree and variety of talent may be made useful. Every 
disciple of Christ may find his place and contribute his 
share to the prosperity of the church, the glory of God, 
and the salvation of men. Not only the faithful minister, 
but the brother who has the gift of prayer and exhorta- 



NATHANIEL UIPLEY COBB. 7 

tion, the judicious Sabbath-school teacher, the affectionate 
visitor of the sick, the believer who possesses money or 
the talent to procure it, and he who, without either tal- 
ents or money, can w^alk with God and adorn the gospel 
by meek and patient holiness, may each and all be actively 
employed in promoting the one blessed cause. 

2. ^[r. Cobb resolved that he never would retain more 
than $50,000. He thought this as large a sum as any 
Christian has a right to possess. He fully recognized the 
duty of the Christian to provide for himself and for his 
family. His dress, his house and furniture, and his mode 
of living', were such as befitted his station in life, without 
either meanness or extravagance. But he, at the same 
time, felt that no Christian has a right to hold more prop- 
erty than is necessary for the reasonable wants of himself 
and of those who are dependent on him. To retain any 
thing more would, in his judgment, be robbing God and 
abusing our stewardship. How many Christians are there 
in the United States who are richer than Mr. Cobb, who 
have already more property than they need, and wdio 
nevertheless are eagerly toiling for greater wealth, and 
refusing more than a trifling pittance to the cause of God. 

3. But Mr. Cobb did not w^ait till he had acquired 
$50,000, before he began to devote his money to religious 
uses. It was in 1821,while he was yet young, and com- 
paratively a poor man, recently established in business, 
that he resolved to give one fourth of the net proceeds of 
his business to benevolent purposes. It was then uncertain 
what would be his success ; but he felt it to be his duty to 
begin then, with the resolution to increase the proportion, 
if God should prosper him. Tliere are many Christians 
who think that if they could accumulate a certain sum, they 
would then be generous. They say that they must first 
make ])rovision for themselves and their families, and then 
the^' will distribute their money liberally. Mr. Cobb did not 
act thus. He, from the beginning, gave a large proportion 
of his income, and trusted in God that whatever should bo 
necessary for himself and his fiimily would be supplied. 



8 NATHANIEL RJPLEY COBB. 

4. Mr. Cobb acted on a settled plan. He had estab- 
lished a principle, and he adhered to it. His benevolence 
was not an occasional overflow, at the impulse of excite- 
ment. It was a steady stream. He was sti-uugly con- 
vinced that his plan was the best one, and he advised 
others to adopt it. He would not trust to his feelings. 
He said that he sometimes gave money from principle, 
when, if he had consulted his feelings alone he miglit 
have withheld it. All Christians ought to have a regular 
plan, and ought to appropriate a definite proportion of 
their income to the cause of God. Such a system would 
increase their means of doing good, because they would 
regulate their other expenditures with a reference to the 
consecrated fund. It would add to the pleasure of benev- 
olence, because they would feel that they were expending 
a fund which belonged to the Lord. 

6. Mr. Cobb believed that to accumulate property for 
children is generally the readiest way to ruin tliem. 
While he made ample provision for the education of his 
son, he did not raise him above the necessity of personal 
industry. 

6. Mr. Cobb was an evidence that a man may be most 
actively engaged in business without losing the vigor of 
his piety. A man may live in the world, and yet walk 
with God. He may be found in the counting-room or on 
the exchange, in the bank or in the insurance office, with- 
out compromising his Christian principles, or dimming 
the brightness of his example. It is true that these are 
places of temptation, but so is the cell of the hermit. 
There is danger everywhere, but everywhere there is 
safety to him who commits his ways unto the Lord. The 
solemn admonition which we ought especially to receive 
is, that we must all die, that like Mr. Cobb we may die 
young, and that it becomes us to do with our might what 
our hand findeth to do. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



?¥o. 543. 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 



BY REV. RICHARD KNILL. 




" I LOVE a religious tradesman," said a celebrated au- 
thor, and so say I. Men of this class are among the most 
honorable of the land ; they carxy their holy principles 
into the various duties of life, and shine as lights in the 
world. Such men must exert a mighty influence on soci- 
ety; and happily they are greatly on the increase. Much 
of what is done for the support of religion at home, and 
for the spread of religion abroad, is done by the hands and 
tongues and purses and families of religious tradesmen. 

Close by the side of those excellent persons, I shall i^lace 
8* 



2 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

my Russian tailor. His short and simple narrative has 
been- told to deeply affected multitudes, and not a few have 
acknowledged the benefit they have derived from his exam- 
ple. I now give it a more permanent form, in the hope 
that readers, as well as hearers, may be benefited by it. 

When he was quite a young man, he visited England, 
and became a sailor. He first sailed in a Liverpool slave- 
ship, and made no less than six voyages from the coast of 
Africa to the West Indies. The account which he gives of 
the horrors of the slave-trade is dreadful. He was " in 
deaths oft," both among the negroes and the white men, 
but God preserved him. After this he entered "the king's 
service," and was with Nelson at the battle of the Nile, 
In this battle he lost an eye, and for which he was dis- 
charged ; but it is a lamentable fact, that the mortality 
which he witnessed in the slave-ship, and his near escape 
from death in the battle where he lost his eye, produced no 
sorrow for sin, no desire to prepare to meet his God. No, 
the stony heart became like adamant. There was no pious 
friend near him in either of these situations to warn, exhort, 
and entreat. No man of God there to direct him to that 
Saviour who could " open his eyes, and turn him from dark- 
ness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that 
he might obtain the forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance 
among them which are sanctified." Acts 26 : 18. How de- 
plorable is the state of men so circumstanced I How piti- 
able in general is the lot of a sailor ; especially the sailor 
who is long from home, without a Sabbath, or a preacher, 
or any thing to remind him of a God. How ought the sit- 
uation of such men to awakeYi the zeal of the church, un- 
til " every ship become a Bethel, and every sailor's heart 
a temple for the Holy Ghost." 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 3' 

Now, being discharged from the navy, and having spent 
all his cash, he betook himself to his old trade, and a quiet 
life on shore. For some years he worked as a journeyman 
in London, and afterwards went to St. Petersburgh, and be- 
came a foreman in an extensive business; but he carried 
30 much of "the man of war" into the shop, and at times 
"became so stormy, and swore so horribly, that the master 
was compelled to give the foreman his discharge. He then 
commenced business for himself, and entered into the hon- 
orable state of matrimony ; he became very obliging, and 
his trade prospered. 

My acquaintance with him began in the following man- 
ner : As I was conversing with one of my congregation, he 
said to me, " I have lately met with a member of the Rus- 
sian church, who is uncommonly fond of the English. He 
has been in England, and speaks our language well. If 
you have any thing to do in his way, I wish you would em- 
ploy him." " In what way is he engaged ?" I inquired. 
" He is a draper and tailor, and has a prosperous busi- 
ness." 

Some months after this, one of my young friends visited 
England, and on his return brought me a piece of York- 
shire cloth for a coat, and I sent it to the Russian tailor to 
make it for me ; this he soon accomplished, and brought it 
home himself Just at the moment that he called I had a 
gentleman with me on business, so I said to the tailor, " Sit 
down for a few minutes, and I will come to you ; in the 
mean time, read this little book," and I put a tract into his 
liand. 

I soon returned, and paid him his bill ; and as he was 
going away he said, " I hope you are pleased with your 
coat." " Yes," I replied, " I am much pleased with my coat ; 



4 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

how are you pleased with my book ?" " Oh," said he, " 1 
never trouble myself about books." " Do you not ? I am 
sorry for that, sir : you are getting an old man, and if you 
do not trouble yourself about books, I fear there is something 
else which you neglect." "What is that, sir?" "Why, 
your precious soul. * And what is a man profited, if he 
gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ; or what shall 
a man give in exchange for his soul?' "' "Ah," said he, " I 
guess what you mean ; you think I ought to become relig- 
ious." " Yes, that is it." " Bless you, sir," he replied, 
" it would be impossible for me to carry on my large busi- 
ness if I were religious." " You astonish me, sir ; how 
would religion interfere with your business ?" " Why, if I 
were religious, then I must go to church on Sundays." " To 
be sure you would ; aye, and you would rejoice when Sun- 
day came, that you might hear something of God and sal- 
vation." " I tell you, sir, that it would be impossible with 
my business. I have thirty men, and I pay most of my 
bills, and receive most of my money on Sunday ; it is my 
busiest day." " What, do you never go to church ?" " Nev- 
er." " This is worse and worse, sir. You say you do not 
read good books, and you do not go to church ; depend upon 
it you are going to hell. I have long thought that no man 
would go to heaven merely because he read the Bible, and 
went to church ; but I am deeply convinced that the man 
who neglects these things, is not going to heaven. How 
can you live so ? Do you not believe there is a God ?" At 
this he looked angrily at me, and said, "God, sir ! God ! 
Have you ever seen God ?" At this I trembled to think 
how far down a man might sink in his iniquity, and I re- 
plied, " I have not seen God, but I have seen you, and yva 
are one of God's works." "Very well," said he, "whfu 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 6" 

you meet with any one who has seen God, please to let me 
know it. Good morning, sir." 

The old man then took his leave, and I saw him no 
more until I met him at the funeral of the friend who had 
introduced him to me. This excellent man was seized 
with typhus- fever, and died ; and great lamentation was 
made over him. The funeral was numerously attended, 
and I addressed the congregation from that beautiful verse, 
•' They took up the body and buried it, and Avent and told 
Jesus." Many wept, and among them I saw the Russian 
tailor with tears rolling down his aged check ; but I could 
not tell whether it was any thing that I said, or the death 
of my friend that so deeply aflected him. On the following 
Sabbath I saw him present again ; on the second Sabbath 
again, and on the third Sabbath again. This w^as very 
strange, yet I was afraid to call upon him, lest he might 
take the alarm and keep away altogether ; but I said to 

one of my friends, "Did you see Mr. B ?" "Yes," 

said he, " I can tell you something very interesting about 
that old man." " Indeed I .what, sir?" "He has pur-^ 
chased an English Bible, and says he is determined to 
read it ; yes, and to read it all through, to see whether 
what you say is true or not." " Then," said I, " there is 
hope of him. There is always hope of a man when he 
begins to read the Bible with attention." 

. I now found him a constant attendant on week-days as 
well as the Sabbath, and I often saw his countenance light- 
ed up with joy, but I never spoke to him until one Saturday 
night I was sitting in my study, when my wife entered, say. 
ing, " There is a stranger inquiring for you." " Who is it ?" 
" I do not know, but I think it is the Russian tailor." So 
I walked out, and there I saw him. He said to me, " Satur- 



6 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

day night is not just the time to call on you, Mr. , but 

I have a little business." " What business, sir ?" " One 
of your hearers wished to present you with a new coat, and 
T have brought it. I hope you will not be angry. I answer- 
ed, "I am not in the habit of being angry with any person, 
but especially with one who would give me a new coat ; 
pray, what kind friend has done this ?" " Ah," said he, 
" that is a part of the business : he will not tell you his 
name." ** Is it a young man." He answered, " No." " Is 
it an old man ?" " Yes, an old man with a grey head." 
There he stood by my side, with his hair as white as milk, 
but I had no conception that he was the man. " Perhaps, 
sir, you will tell my wife who it was." " Yes, I am not 

bound to keep it from Mrs. ;" so I left them, and he 

told my wife that he was the person who had given me 
this coat. Of course I soon knew it ; and very peculiar 
were the feelings produced in my mind by the transaction. 
A few days afterwards I met him in the street, and said to 
him, " Now, sir, I know who my benefactor is, and I am 
greatly obliged to you for tjiis kindness; but do tell me 
what induced you to give me the coat ?" At this he 
burst into tears, and said, "Ah, sir, if God had not changed 
my he^rt, I never should have thought of giving you the 
coat." "Thank you," said I, "for this explanation, and 
if it be connected with a change of heart, then the coat is 
invaluable." He then gave me a striking proof that his 
heart was changed indeed. He began to consult me about 
the spiritual good of his people. " I want to ask you, sir, 
what I should do for my men ; I feel very much about their 
souls. What do you think I should do for them ; should I 
give tnem copies of the Testament ?" I was delighted to 
beheld this mark of spiritual life in his own soul, and urged 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 7 

him by all means to give them the Scriptures. This en- 
couraged him. His youth seemed renewed like the eagle's. 
He ran home and called his men together and said to them, 
" [ have something to propose to you, my lads ;" then turn- 
ing to one he said, "Can you read?" "Yes, sir, I read 
Swedish." To another, "Can you read?" "Yes, sir, I 
read German." To a third, "Can you read?" "Yes, 1 
read Finnish." To a fourth, " Can you read?" "Yes, 1 
read E-uss." Having ascertained how many of his people 
could read, and in what languages, he came to me again, 
saying, " Now, sir, so many books in so many languages ; 
for I am resolved that no man shall remain in my employ, 
who is able to read, without a copy of the blessed New 
Testament." 

Header, think what a great moral reformation it would 
produce in this world, if all our manufacturers and mer- 
chants and tradesmen were to imitate this example. 

The inquiry he thus made led to another discovery. 
He not only found out who could read, but he also found 
out who could not read, and for them he bought spelling- 
books, and set the readers to teach them : for he also 
resolved that every man and boy in his works who could 
not read should be instructed. 

In addition to all this, he usually spent half an hour 
in the evening with them in reading and expounding the 
Scriptures. The sight was at once novel and affecting 
The old man would fix upon a chapter, then they would 
all read the same verse in their different languages, and 
then the master would give them a short exposition of it 
in the Russian language, which they all understood. By 
this means his house passed through as great a change as 
the master. Instead of being polluted with worldly occu- 



8 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

X^atiojis on the Lord's-day, now every day was turned into 
a Sabbath. Prayer, and praise, and religious instruction 
were carried on daily. The voice of joy, thanksgiving, and 
praise was heard in the tabernacle of the righteous. 

During the next two years, I do not know any man 

who read his Bible so much as Mr. B , and his pleas- 

ere in this sacred exercise at times arose so high, that it 
might be called "joy unspeakable and full of glory." His 
religion made him a happy man. From this time I watclied 
the progress of his piety with intense interest. His conver- 
sion was no common event, and my heart has often been 
cheered by the grand and glorious views which he had of 
the Lord Jesus Christ. He was a stranger to the conflict- 
ing opinions of men on religious subjects. He had drawr» 
his religion directly from the Bible, and thought that all 
men must think and feel like himself; but one evening he 
found his mistake. In walking home from divine service 
with an Englishman who v/as half a Socinian, a conver- 
sation began about the sermon. "What do you think of 
it ?" said my friend. " Think of it," said the Englishman, 
"why, I think there was rather too much about Christ in 
it." This startled him. He stopped, and exclaimed, " Too 
much of Christ, sir I you alarm me. Too much of Christ, 
sir I He is every thing to me : wisdom and righteousness, 
sanctification and redemption. Too much about Christ ! 
why, I shall sing his praises for ever." 

The next day he called on me to inquire if there were 
many persons who held such degrading views of his Sav- 
iour, and I told him, "Yes." "Alas," said he, "that men 
should be so blind. By professing themselves to be wise, 
they become fools. No wonder they are not happy." 

This shows us the. secret whence his happiness pra 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 9 

ceeded. God had given him strong consolation and good 
hope through grace, and he went on his way rejoicing. 
He could not but be happy; and I sincerely believe that 
Christians in general would be vastly more happy than 
they are, if they thought more of Christ, and of the claims 
which Christ has upon them. 

But although he was so happy, yet he was not satis- 
fied. This may appear a paradox ; I will explain it. He 
believed there were heights, and depths, and lengths, and 
breadths, in the love of Christ, which he had not yet 
known, but which he felt anxious to know ; therefore, like 
one who runs a race, he was ever pressing towards the 
mark for the prize. Hence, he was most diligent in relig- 
ious duties whenever he had an opportunity. For a short 
time in the summer I had retired with my family nine 
miles into the country, and held service on a week even- 
ing in a room. On one of these occasions, just before the 
service commenced, I saw my friend arrive. I said to him, 
" This is a long way for you to come, sir ; I hope God will 
meet with you and bless you." " sir," he replied, " God 
met me on the road, and came with me, so that I have 
been well paid for coming already." This was the way 
he lived ; so that at home and abroad, in the house and by 
the way-side, he seemed to enjoy a constant sense of the 
divine presence. 

I have often thought, when meditating on the wonder- 
ful conversion of this man, that in him was exemplified 
the language of the poet, 

" Lions and beasts of savage name, 
Put on the nature of the lamb." 

Persons who have known him only a few years, can hardly 
conceive what he was when he angrily said to me, "Have 



(0 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

you ever seen God ?" but men of no religion who knew 
him in his unconverted state, have been exceedingly struck 
with the change. One instance will suffice. A gentle- 
man who had left Russia to reside in England, re- 
turned one summer to see his old friends. The ship in 
which he sailed was commanded by a praying captain, 
who had the worship of God daily in his cabin. The 
gentleman passenger could hardly avoid being present at 
prayer-time, though he was not fond of it ; indeed it often 
led to a controversy, when the gentleman tried to laugh 
the captain out of his religion. At last the voyage ended, 
and the gentleman went in a steamer to Petersburgh. 

Mr. B had formerly worked for him, and he called 

and talked about the fashion, and swore, etc. Once this 
was just the thing which pleased my friend, but now he 
had lost his relish for such talk. It was not only distaste- 
ful, but offensive. The grace of God, which bringeth sal- 
vation, had appeared, and taught him to deny ungodliness 
and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, and righteously, and 
godly in the world, and he frankly told the gentleman so, 
and proposed to read a chapter to him, which he could not 
resist. Then he proposed to pray with him, which he 
could not resist. The scene filled him with astonishment. 
He could not laugh now. He was so impressed that he 
sought out the captain, and rehearsed the whole matter, 
and said, "Now I know that there is a reality in religion. 
Before I saw the Russian tailor, I thought you religious 
folks were all hypocrites ; but I can think so no more. 
You must go with me, and see the man." To this the 
captain consented, and afterwards told me what pleasure 
he felt in the good old man's society. Oh what a mercy it 
is to be able to bear such a faithful testimony for God ; what 



THE RL'SSIAN TAILOR. 11 

a mercy to be able to lodge such a witness in the bosom 
of an unconverted man. What a comment on that verse, 
" Let your light so shine before men, that they, seeing your 
good works, may glorify your Father who is in heaven." 

His growing acquaintance with the Bible brought him 
into a new world. He had lost his relish for " tli^ pleas- 
ures of sin," but the discoveries which he made in his 
Bible often filled him with rapture. I imagine that per- 
sons who have been acquainted with the Scriptures from 
their infancy, have no idea of the pleasure and wonder 
and^ astonishment which burst upon the mind of a man 
who for the first time in his life hears the affecting history 
of our Lord and Saviour. This was the case with my 
friend. He was born again when he was old, and with 
his new birth he began to read the Bible ; and he fre- 
quently called on me to relate the glorious discoveries he 
had made ; and having related them, he would ask me 
with childlike simplicity, " Did you ever hear any thing 
so delightful before ?" Dear old man I It was all new to 
him, and he thought it must be all new to me also, when 
alas, my comparatively unfeeling familiarity with the sub- 
jects often made me tremble. Oh, how happy should we 
be if we could retain the freshness of first impressions. 

But it was not from the Bible alone that he derived 
instruction. He was a spiritual bee. He gathered honey 
from every flower. Take the following as a specimen. 
Once when I was preaching to young people, I recom- 
mended them to treasure up in their memory that beauti- 
ful hymn which begins with, 

"Not all the blood of beasts, 
On Jewish altars slain, 
Could give the guilty conscience peace, 
Or wash away the stairx. 



1^ THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

"But Christ the heavenly Lamb 
Takes all our guilt away : 
A sacrifice of nobler name, 
And richer blood than they." 

The old man took the hint, and learned it, and then called 
on me, saying, " I have learned the hymn." " What hymn ?'* 
•'Why, that which you recommended to the young people ; 
and I thought if it is good for them, it must be good for 
fne also. Shall I repeat it?" "If you please." So he 
began and proceeded very courageously with the first and 
second verses, but in repeating the third his voice faltered, 
and when he was repeating the fourth — • 

"My soul looks back to see 

The burdens thou didst bear, 
When hanging on the cursed tree, 
And hopes her guilt was there" — 

he burst into tears, and could proceed no further. This 
was to me an overpowering sight : his hoary head, his 
tremulous voice, his blind eye, his flowing tears, his holy 
zeal, all combined to make it one of the most interesting 
spectacles I had ever witnessed. 

I should wish now that my reader beheld him engaged 
in the hallowed work of circulating divine truth. It is 
often said that charity begins at home ; but it does not 

stop there. This was the case with Mr. B . His first 

care was to give all diligence to make his calling and elec- 
tion sure. Next came his household, then came the con- 
gregation, and then came all within his reach. To meet 
the last class, he employed himself a good deal in the dis- 
tribution of tracts and portions of the Bible, and was in- 
genious in finding out ways for their circulation. 

On certain days it is usual for the trades in the impe- 
rial city to meet at the Guildhall to transact the affairs of 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 13 

their various guilds. These were harvest-days for the 
good old man. A day or two previous to the meetings, he 
would come to me, saying, " I want some tracts in differ- 
ent languages. We are going to have a great day at the 
Guildhall, and I wish to improve the opportunity. Let me 
have as many tracts as you can for an imperial" — ahout 
a guinea. Then, after the business was over, he would 
come to me and report: " Dreadful work yesterday, sir, at 
the Guildhall." "What was it?" "Some people took 
tracts and tore them in pieces, and trampled upon them 
before my eyes. Others took the tracts and threw them 
in my face, saying. What have you to do with my religion? 
while some threw them into the fire : but I am not dis- 
couraged, sir, I will try it again next meeting, I will 
never give up. Oh, no. There is not one of them who 
has been so great a sinner as I have been. And if the 
Lord Jesus Christ could condescend to take hold of such an 
old rebel as I am, and change my heart, do you think I'll 
be discouraged, sir ? No. I will work for Christ till my 
dying day." 

Was not this apostolic? He knew that the same mercy 
which had been bestowed on him was sufficient to soften 
the hardest heart, and to purify the most polluted heart; 
therefore he was never discouraged. 

His kindness towards me was great and unabated. He 
invariably made me an annual present of a new coat, and 
the last he gave me was accompanied with this remark- 
able expression, " There, sir, take it as a token of my love ; 
and remember, it is as much a trophy of the grace of God 
as the idols which were sent home from Tahiti." 

Oh with what joy will the Tahitian converts meet this 
orood old Russian tailor before the throne of God. With 



14 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR 

vvhat rapture will they unite in singing, " Worthy is the 
Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and 
wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing. 
For he ha.th redeemed us to God by his blood out of every 
kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." 

How many lessons may be learned from the short his- 
tory of this good old man I 

1. It affords encouragement to those who are endeavor- 
ing to lead aged sinners to repentance. To convert a sinner 
from the error of his way, and thus save a soul from death, 
and hide a multitude of sins, is a great work ; but there are 
formidablo difficulties in the way. Can the Ethiopian 
change his skin? Can the leopard change his spots? Can 
those who have long been accustomed to do evil, learn to 
do well ? Can the habits of threescore years be entirely 
changed, and the old man become a new creature ? Oh, 
what a work I who is sufficient for these things ? To all 
who see these difficulties I would say, " Take courage." 
Behold this aged sinner, and go forward in your endeavors, 
nothing doubting. You cannot find a man more unlikely 
to become a devoted Christian than he once was. Think 
of the hardness and blindness of his heart when he said to 
me, "Have you ever seen God?" and then view him in- 
structing his workmen, combating the Socinian, and trying 
to convert hundreds at once, and say, Is any thing too hard 
for the Lord ? Oh, no. Therefore seek out the very worst 
characters in your neighborhood, and point them to " the 
Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." Re- 
member, that the worse any man is, the more he needs your 
help ; and the more aged a sinner is, the more need there 
is of immediate help. If you were to see a man sinking in 
a river, you would perceive that if you wished to do him 



THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 15 

good, you must do it quickly, or it would be too late. So 
it is with aged sinners. It is now or never. They will 
quickly be gone. 

2. The happy change which this aged man experienced 
affords great encouragement to aged sinners to seek the 
same blessing. Yes, aged friends, it affords encouragement 
to you not to live any longer as you have lived, but now at 
the eleventh hour to seek mercy. The hoary head is a 
crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness ; 
but what an awful sight is a grey-headed sinner, unpre- 
pared to die, unprepared for heaven I This was once the 
condition of my old friend in Russia ; but he forsook his 
sins. He parted with his sinful companions. He cast 
himself upon the mercy of Christ for salvation. He de- 
lighted to retire from the world, and to pour out his heart 
in prayer before the Lord ; in this way he became happy 
himself, and then labored to make all around him happy 
also. He had neglected sacred things when he was young, 
but now he determined to work for God when he became 
old. He knew that he had only a short time to work, and 
he made the best of it, and did much in a little time. Noth- 
ing seemed to move him from his purpose. When he met 
with difficulties, they only roused him to greater activity. 
•' I am not discouraged, sir," he would say. *' I will never 
give up. No ; I will work for Christ till my dying day." 
And ought not his example to encourage you to go and do 
likewise ? If God had mercy on him, would he not have 
mercy on you if you sought it? If God made him happy, 
would he not make you happy also if you prayed to him ? 
If God made him useful, would he not make you useful 
also if you desired it and employed God's appointed means 
for doing good ? To be sure he would. Oh then come to 



13 THE RUSSIAN TAILOR. 

a decision. While Jesus calls, do you answer. While 
Jesus invites, do you run. While Jesus ofTers a free pardon, 
stretch out your hand to receive it, and having obtained it, 
then sing aloud, Lord, I will praise thee ; though thou 
wast angry with me, yet now thine anger is turned away, 
and thou comfortest me. Behold, God is my salvation. I 
will not be afraid. 

3. It presents a fine subject for contemplation to de- 
vout young tradesmen. One morning when I met him, he 
said, " I feel very anxious about the souls of my people ; 
tell me what I can do for their souls." Think of this. Oh 
what would Britain and America soon become if all pious 
tradesmen felt like this man? What did his anxiety lead 
to ? My tract tells you. And I hardly ever saw a man 
" feel deeply," but it led to good results. Matthew Henry 
says, " Deep impressions produce strong expressions," and 
we see the truth of the remark in this good old man. And 
if he in his old age planned and accomplished so much, how 
much more might you do who are now in the morning or 
midday of life ? Try ; yes, try ; and " whatsoever thy hand 
findeth to do, do it with thy might," copying the old man's 
resolution, " I will work for Christ till my dying day." 



j\o. 544, 

A VILLAGE PREACHER. 

BY REV. RICHARD KNILL. 



This excellent man was first made known to me on a 
Sabbath morning-. His wife came to me, saying", *'I have 
a favor to ask, sir ; will you please to speak to my hus- 
band ?" " What do you wish me to speak to him about ?" 
I said, " Does he get drunk ?" " No, sir ; he has left off 
thaty " Does he swear ?'' " No, not nowP "Does he bring- 
you his wages?" *' Oh yes, sir ; he is a good husband." 
"Then what am I to speak to him for?" At that she 
wept, and replied, "Ah, he is going out of his mind." 
"Pray tell me, what signs has ho given that he is going 
out of his mind?" "Why, he was out on Sunday at the 
preaching three times; and in the evening he would take 
our little boy with him, and the child ought to have been 
in bed." " Any other sign?" "Yes, sir ; he would insist 
on my kneeling down with him while he prayed with me." 

" Then your husband had ne"er praj^ed with 3'ou be- 
fore, had he ?" " No, never P " Well, good woman, I do not 
see any signs of madness in all i his. Is there any other 
sign ?" " I assure you he is very far gone. He is losing 
his appetite ; he would not eat his supper ; he said he 
could not." " How long have you oerceived it coming on ?" 
" About a m.onth, sir. Oh, what shall I do? Our house 
and land will be sold. He will 2:0 to the asylum, and I 
and my children will be left destitute." 

It struck me that I understood his case. He was not 
the first man I had met who ha 1 lost his appetite, and 
his sleep also. Many a sinner, when the arrows of the 
Almighty fastened in his conscience, had suffered agony 
indescribable. When God wounds, it is only God who 
can heal. There is no peace until there is an applica- 
tion of the precious blood of Jesus. I asked, 

"What followed when he cordd not eat his supper?" 
" Why, he went to bed ; and I t'lought, we will not dis- 
turb him ; I hope he will fall asleep ; perhaps a good 
night's rest will restore him. But Oh, sir, when I got up 
VOL. xiri. 9 



2 A VILLAGE PREACHER. 

stairs I found liim wide awake. I soon fell asleep, and 
about midnight he awoke me with his groans. This 
was dreadful ; but I fell asleep again, and soon he woke 
mo again with his groans. At that I could refrain no 
longer, but said to him, 'My dear husband, what is the 
matter V He replied, ^ I believe the devil will have me.' Now, 
sir, what am I to do?" "Do," I replied, "do this : Never 
cross him. If he asks you to join him in prayer, kneel 
down in a moment. If he asks you to go to the preach- 
ing, go ; and I will venture to say, he will soon be better." 

I became quite interested about the man, and soon 
obtained an interview with him. He seemed glad to find 
one who understood his cas(^, and who could sympathize 
with him. He was in great sorrow of heart. The Spirit 
of God had deeply convinced him of his sin and danger. 
He was a burdened, broken-hearted sinner. The weight 
of his guilt pressed him down. The fiery law thundered 
its curses, and liis views of Christ as the atoning Sav- 
iour were veiy gloomy. I directed and encouraged him, 
pointing out particularly that scripture, " It is a faithful 
saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus 
came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief" 
Much of his time was now spent in strong crying and 
tears ; and the prayer-hearing God gave him such a sight 
of Jesus as filled him with joy and peace. 

After some months he joined us at ijhe Lord's table, 
and for several years I have rejoiced in his holy walk and 
conversation. It was delightful to witness his constant 
attendance at the house of God, to see him turning over 
his new Bible, and to mark the oft-falling tear, I remem- 
ber on one occasion to have been greatly moved by his 
prayer, so humble, so fervent ; and I ventured to ask him, 
if on that Sabbath night when he woke his wife with his 
groans, he said to her, " I believe the devil will have me." 
"Yes," he replied, "I said so, and I thought so. I have 
been a very passionate man, and often gave loose to my 
feelings, when I swore and cursed most horribly ; and 
when God opened my eyes to see my guilt and ruin, I 
feared it was impossible there could be love enough in 
the heart of God to save me; but it is not so now. Oh, 
no. Blessed be God, I now see Christ mighty to save ; 
yes, to save even me." 

And now this trophy of the grace of God stands up at 



A VILLAGE PREACHEE. 3 

times to proclaim salvation, through the blood of the 
Lamb ; and I am told that such is tlic unction which at- 
tends his preaching, that his hearers are often melted to 
tears. Does this short history teach ns any thing ? 

1. Here is encouragement to 'preachers. What a mighty 
instrument they yield 1 In every large congregation there 
are men, and women too, of violent passions, of proud 
hearts, of rebellious wills — persons who are fighting 
against God, and ruining their own souls. Now the gospel 
meets their case. It is intended for such sinners. Preach- 
ers ought to cherish the hope, that every sermon they 
preach will cause joy in the presence of the angels of 
God, over one sinner that repenteth. Have we not the 
"fire," the "arrow,'' the "hammer," and the "sword?" Is 
the Lord's arm shortened, that it cannot save ; or is his 
ear heavy, that it cannot hear? We who preach the 
gospel should expect great conversions, and many of 
them. 

2. The subject is full of instruction to husbands and 
wives. In a time of great and powerful awakening in a 
congregation, where many are converted to God, it wiU 
often happen that wives are converted, and their hus- 
bands are not; or husbands are converted, and their 
wives are not ; and this may cause great alarm. It is a 
new thing in the family. It is a breaking in upon all 
former plans. Oh, it is wonderful ! A man praying, who 
used to swear — and the loss of appetite, loss of sleep — 
and this followed by tears and sighs and groans. There 
may be much love and pity, but no sympathy from the 
unconverted. They do not understand it. God only can 
reveal it unto them. This woman loved her husband, 
but not knowing the terrors of the Lord, or the love of 
the Spirit, she cried, " Ah, he is going out of his mind." 
But she now rejoices in a holy, peaceful, happy husband. 
Things like these are greatly to be desired, and ought to 
be prayed for ; and if we expected them, and pra3^ed for 
them, we should doubtless have them. Any thing is bet- 
ter than death. " Because thou art lukewarm, and neither 
cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth." 

3. The state of this family, before the conversion oi 
the husband, is just a picture of the fearful state of multi- 
tudes. I know there are happy exceptions ; but let us 
suppose, that next Sunday night one thousand of the 



4 A VILLAGE PREACHER. 

drunken, swearing", God-forgetting husbands of this coun- 
try were to say to their wives, "1 cannot live any longer 
as I have lived. Come, dear wife, kneel down, and let us 
pray." Would not the wives take the alarm, and ihnv 
that their liusbands were going out of their minds ? Alas, 
how many prayerless families there are ! Masters, can 
you expect God's blessing, when you shut him out of 
your house? Parents, can you expect your children to 
obey you, while you trample on the authority of your 
Father in heaven ? Oh, tremble at your neglect, and re- 
pent and believe the gospel, lest that dreadful verse be 
fulfilled on you : '' Pour out tliy fury upon the heathen, 
and upon the families that call not upon thy name." 

4. The vast increase of our population shows how 
much need there is of good, zealous village preac/iing. A 
reading population is growing up around us. Good books 
are plentiful, and easily obtained ; but if every man 
could read, and every man had a Bible, still, a voice from 
the eternal throne would sound in our ears, " Go ye into 
all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." 
The living voice is God's chosen instrument for convert- 
ing the world ; and the ministers, officers, and members 
of the church of Christ should personally address all who 
are far from him on the great salvation. We must have 
such preaching, or the people will perish. 

5. Lastly, how greatly favored are those congrega- 
tions which have a few warm-hearted and faithful breth- 
ren, who are able and willing to direct their fellow-crea- 
tures to Christ Jesus the Lord. Multitudes would live 
and die without the knowledge of the way of salvation, 
were it not for the labors of such devoted men, who have 
themselves experienced deep distress of soul, agonizing 
views of guilt, and exalted views of Jesus. By their deep 
experimental acquaintance with the gospel, they often 
melt those whom they address to tears. God honors them, 
and will honor them. I have lived among them, and have 
witnessed the happy results. "Oh that all the Lord'a 
people were prophets," and ''great the company of those 
who publish salvation 1" 

PUBLISHED Br THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



Xo. 343. 

A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY 



I HAVE called to see you and your family, to speak to 
you about your soul, and the souls of your children and ser- 
vants. Does God dwell in your house ? 

Do YOU READ HIS HOLY WORD MORNING AND EVENING, AND 

PRAY WITH YOUR FAMILY ? God lias made you the head of 
your house for the purpose of training up your family in his 
ways and for his service. Of Abraham he said, " I know 
him that he will command his children and his household 
after him, that they shall keep the way of the Lord." Gen. 
18 : 19. Joshua said, "As for me and my house, we will 
serve the Lord." Josh. 24 : 15. God constituted the family 
relation, "that he might have a godly seed." Mai. 2 : 15. 
The everlasting happiness of your family depends on their 
being servants of God. You must be destitute of the best of 
feelings, if you do not desire the welfare for time and eter- 
nity of your wife, children, and servants. God says, " These 
words which I command thee this day, shall be in thy heart ; 
and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and 
shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, and 
when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, 
and when thou risest up," Deut. 6:4-9; and by Jere- 
miah, " Pour out thy fury upon the families that call not 
on thy name." Jer. 10 : 25. Philip Henry used to say, 
" If the worship of God be not in the house, write, 'Lord 
have mercy on us,' upon the door, for there is a plague, a 
curse in it." His son Matthew said, "A family without 
prayer is a house without a roof, open to every storm, and 
exposed to the wrath and curse of God." 

Do YOUR CHILDREN AND SERVANTS REGULARLY ATTEND 

UPON FAMILY WORSHIP ? It is of tlic greatest importance to 
form a regular habit for them. To do so, you must be very 
particular in requiring their attendance. Neglecting this 
duty to your servants, by their influence and example they 
may undermine the principles you would cultivate in youi 
children, and defeat all your exertions. Few persons prop- 
erly estimate the influence of servants upon the childrrn 
of a family : it will be felt by them until they die. 



2 A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILr. 

Do YOU MAKE CONSCIENCE OF SECRET PRAYER ? It is 'd 

good plan, not only to pray for yourself, but for each mem- 
ber of your family by name, for whatever you think they 
need. Pray for the church you attend, its minister and 
members, and always that the Spirit of God may accom- 
pany the word preached with power to the hearts of sin- 
ners. Your love for, and practice of secret prayer, is one 
of the best tests of the honesty and sincerity of your relig- 
ion. God does not forget secret prayer. Mat. 6 : 6. You 
cannot wish ill to any man, if you sincerely pray, "Forgive 
us our debts as we forgive our debtors." Ministers of the 
gospel need your prayers. They want praying people. By 
prayer we bring God to our help. No money, however lib- 
erally given, can buy the gift of the Holy Ghost ; but prayer 
enters heaven and draws down the gracious influences of 
that blessed Spirit. A poor praying member of a church 
is a greater blessing to it than the influence of many rich 
ones. Urge your children and servants to pray in secret 
for the influence of the Holy Spirit to renew and sanctify 
their hearts. Endeavor to teach them the true nature of 
prayer, that it is not any form of words, but the ofl^ering 
up of the desires of the heart to God, in the name of Jesus 
Christ, for things which are agreeable to his will. Give 
each of them a Bible for their own use, and urge them to 
read a portion of it every day. Teach them about God — 
his true character, and their duties to him. Do not let any 
child or servant go out of your family without a Bible. 

How DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY SPEND THE LoRD's DAY ? 

It is the Lord's time. It is the hem of the week. Don't 
waste it. It is more precious than other days. Do you rise 
as early on it as' on other days? Do you use diligence in 
improving its sacred hours ? Let no unnecessary work be 
done. Leave none of your Saturday's work that may delay 
you in entering upon the sacred duties of this holy day. 
You cannot rob God of his day without loss. 

Get all your family ready, and take them to the house 
of God in good season. Require all to go that are able. 
Don't let trivial excuses keep any away, and while there 
keep them under your own charge. Some secure them- 
selves a seat in the house of God, but care not where their 
children or servants are. A parent or master's duty is as 
bindinsf in the church as at home. 



A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. b 

When you go to the house of God, do not itand at the 
door, or wait in groups around the house, as if the Lord 
was not in his holy temple, and would not hear your 
prayers or accept of your praise until the minister enters. 
Pray before you leave home ; pray in his courts. " My 
house shall be called the house of prayer." 

Teach your children to reverence and love God's house. 
It is the place where he has promised to meet and bless his 
people. We should love to be where God has said he will 
be, and should be anxious to appear before him. " Where 
two or three are gathered together in my name, there am 1 
in the midst of them." Mat. 18 : 20. The psalmist said, 
"Lord, I have loved the habitation of thy house, and the 
place where thine honor dwelleth." " One thing have I 
desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may 
dwell ifi the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to 
behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his tem- 
ple." " My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts 
of the Lord." " Blessed are they that dwell in thy house." 
'* A day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had 
rather be a door-keeper in the house of my God, than to 
dwell in the tents of wickedness." Psa. 26 : 8 ; 27 : 4 ; 
84 : 2, 4, 10. 

Accustom your children, on returning from the house 
of God, to repeat the text and as much of the sermon as 
they can remember. It will impress the truth more deeply 
upon their memory, and influence them to hear more atten- 
tively. You will thus be able to see how much of the ser- 
mon they understand, and will have an opportunity of 
explaining what they do not. This practice will greatly 
benefit them and yourself. Never permit them to spend 
the Sabbath in idleness at home, nor to visit among their 
neighbors and friends. Let them employ the portion of the 
day not devoted to public worship, in reading and studying 
the Bible, in reading religious books, in learning their cate- 
chisms, or whatever may implant good seed in their hearts. 

Good practical religious books can now be readily pro- 
cured at very little cost. Supply your family with them, 
and thus when you or they are unwell, or have rainy Sab- 
baths, you may improve precious time to great profit. You 
can scarcely do any thing for the same cost, that will repay 
you so well, or be such a means of good to your own soul 



4 A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. 

and to \our household, as the providing and giving them 
good books. They have been instrumental, with the influ- 
ence of the Holy Spirit, in convincing of sin, leading to 
Jesus Christ, and comforting with a glorious hope of heav- 
en, myriads of souls. Get for yourself, get for your chil- 
dren, good books, such as Baxter, Bunyan, AUeine, Flavel, 
Owen, Edwards, and Doddridge. One of the last acts of 
the late Rev. Dr. Archibald Alexander, after serving Goa 
in the ministry nearly sixty years, was to appropriate $10 
to procure the Tract Society's Eeligious or Pastor's Libra- 
ry for a destitute minister. Of good books it is well said, 

" They live when you are dead ; 
Light on the darkened mind they shed ; 
Good seed they sow from age to age, 
Through all thit. mortal pilgrimage ; 
They nurse the germs of holy trust ; . , 

They wake untired when you are dust." 

Do YOU CONTRIBUTE TOWARDS SUPPORTING THE GOSPEL ? 

Do you consider the labcrers that do your work as need- 
ing support for themselves and families, and yet neglect 
to sustain the ministers Avho labor for you in the gospel ? 
How can you expect God's blessing upon his word, if you 
are unwilling or neglect to contribute for its continuance 
among you? If you desire it, you will strive to sustain it, 
No greater blessing can f.bide with a community, than the 
pure gospel faithfully preached, and there is no strongej 
mark of God's displeasure than the withdrawing of his 
servants. 

Have you the oppoi.tunity of doing good to those 
WHO ARE not of YOUR IMMEDIATE FAMILY ? Is there a Sab- 
bath-school, or prayer-meeting, or a feeble church near you, 
that needs your aid? Give them your countenance and 
support. Help them while they need it. The man that 
will congratulate or manifest willingness to help when the 
difficulty is over, is of little use anywhere. Ask your- 
self. What can I do where I now am, at this present time, 
for advancing the pure worship of God ? You may have 
the ability given you by God to sustain a minister in some 
destitute place, or to help to retain one in a feeble church, 
in danger of being deprived of theirs from inability to 
support him. You may support one or more colporteurs 
in distributing religious tracts and books from house to 



A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. 5 

house. You may perhaps have preaching in your own 
house, or a Sabbath-school, or Bible, or catechetical class, 
that would be a nursery for heaven. You could put Bibles, 
tracts, and religious books into the families of your neigh- 
borhood, that after many days would bring forth fruit. 
" Blessed are they that sow beside all waters." 

Christians sometimes complain of the ignorance and 
wickedness of their neighbors, and yet do nothing to ben- 
efit them. God may have placed such around you for the 
very purpose of making you instruments of good to them, 
and your duty is to try to do them good. Perhaps you 
would not seek a field of labor, and God has placed it at 
your door. It may be that there is no church near, and 
God has given you land suitable, and influence and means 
which, if properly used, will secure one. Consider it an 
honor put upon you, if the Lord will allow you to be the 
instrument of erecting a house for his worship. Do not act 
as some who think the land is theirs, and that it is a favor 
done by them to give it to the Lord. "The earth is the 
Lord's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that 
dwell therein." Psa. 24 : 1. 

Can you ever regret giving back to the Lord of that 
which he has lent you, or rendering any labor which he 
will permit you in his service ? Whatever you can do for 
promoting the kingdom of Christ, consider as your highest 
privilege and greatest honor, hi your family, with your 
children and servants, or your neighbors, let it be the 
desire, and purpose, and efibrt, and prayer of your life to 
promote the cause of Jesus Christ, your Lord and Saviour. 

The M^orship and service of God is the noblest work in 
which men or angels can engage. The early Christians 
took joyfully the spoiling of their earthly hopes, that they 
might have an inheritance in heaven To mention the 
name of Christ with respect would endanger their lives ; 
and afterwards, in papal countries, to be found with a copy 
of the word of God, would subject the possessor to perse- 
cution and death. In this happy land, every man may 
read the word of God, teach it to his children, and train 
them up in the knowledge of it, without any to molest him. 
He may become a follower of Christ without forfeiting his 
standing in the community or being deprived of any of his 
civil rights But to be a disciple of Christ, he must deny 

9* 



6 A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. 

himself ungodliness and worldly lusts, take up his cross, 
and follow Christ in newness of life and conversation. 
He must not be conformed to the world, but be trans- 
formed by the renewing of his mind. That renewed mind 
will seek to render to God the very best service. No sacri- 
fice will be considered too great. Flowing from love to Him 
who first loved us and gave himself for us, it will constrain 
us to glorify him in our body and spirit, which are his. 

Is the service of Christ your delight ? Do you desire 
for yourself and children an interest in him, more than all 
earthly good ? You labor to provide food and clothing for 
yourself and them : do you use as much diligence in seek- 
ing the Saviour and striving to lead them to him ? All 
labor for your bodies will soon be over : what have you 
done, and what are you doing for your souls ? 0, what 
thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. 

Should you neglect to provide food for your family until 
they died from starvation, you would rightly be judged guilty 
of their death. How much more guilty, and how much more 
terrible will be the judgment due to you, who, as a parent 
or master, have made no provision for the eternal welfare 
of the souls of your children and servants ! In that great 
and dreadful day, when they shall stand before God, and 
charge their ruin upon you, what answer will you be able 
to give ? Will you be able to call God to witness how you 
longed for their salvation ; how diligently, and carefully, 
and regularly you trained them in the knowledge of the 
way to heaven ? Will you be able to point to the days 
and nights when you plead with him for a blessing upon 
them ? Will they bear witness for you, remembering the 
family altar, the prayers, and the example which you set 
before them ? Will they say, " We were taught the know- 
ledge of God, to reverence and keep holy the Sabbath-day ; 
were prayed with, and prayed for, and entreated to seek 
and serve the Lord, and prepare for heaven?" Or will 
they, in that day, stand before God your judge, to upbraid 
you for your unfaithfulness and neglect of their souls ? 

If their souls are cast into hell, under the wrath and 
curse of God, how aggravated will be your anguish, to hear 
one and another charging you, their parents and masters, 
before an assembled universe, as being instrumental in 
their damnation '. " Oh, if it had not been for you, thi? 



A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. 7 

would not have been our place. You never prayed with 
us, nor for us. You never taught us to read God's word, 
or to keep his holy Sabbath. You never led us to the house 
of God, nor taught us that we must worship him. You did 
not pray with us nor for us, either in your family or in your 
closet. You never told us ll'at we should prefer eternal 
things to the perishing things of time." Some may then 
say, " We saw you read the Bible at times, and go to the 
house of God, but you never urged it upon us. One single 
word from you as parents and masters, might have kept us 
out of the evil company into which we were led, and one 
word from you might have directed us to the Bible, and* 
the Sabbath, and the house of God ; but you never spoke 
to us one word about God and our souls. Now all these 
opportunities are over ; now it is for ever too late. We are 
ruined, without hope. We chose our own wicked ways and 
our Avicked companions, and you never restrained us. Now, 
warnings can do us no good. We ai'e lost ; lost for ever, 
without remedy. But our blood is upon you. You might 
have warned us of our danger; you might have taken us 
by the hand and led us to the house of God. You might 
have cautioned us against the company and example of the 
wicked. You might have restrained us from evil, and per- 
suaded us to follow that which was good. When we were 
young, you might have taught us about God and heaven, 
abou4; our souls and Jesus and salvation, and then we 
might have been saved. Alas, alas I" 

To see your children among the lost, will be enough to 
break your hearts ; but to hear their wailings, and in the 
depth of their sufferings to hear them charging their ruin 
upon their unfeeling and unfaithful parents, will extort 
from many the lamentation, " I have damned my own 
child, I have damned my servants, and Oh, I have damned 
my own soul I I spent my life in providing for their bodies ; 
to feed and clothe, and give them an inheritance on earth, 
was all my labor. I made no provision for eternity. Now 
I see and feel the madness of my folly ; but alas, alas, it 
is ton late ! too late I" 

The object of my visit is to speak to you before it is too 
late, and to call you to redeem the few rcmainmg mo- 
ments, to embrace the present opportunities, and to ben-in 
without delay to train up every member of your household 



8 A VISIT TO YOUR FAMILY. 

in the way of the Lord, and strive to fit them for heaven 
You may have gone far in tlie way to eternal ruin, and 
may be confirmed in your own way. Stop but for p. mo- 
ment. Will you go on and destroy your own soul ? "Will 
you draw your wife and children and servants down to eter- 
nal burnings ? "Would you have them to be your compan- 
ions in hell ? You may now treat these things lightly, and 
even scorn this warning, but the day is coming, when, with 
all the earnestness of a tormented and lost sinner, you will 
cry for a drop of water to quench your burning thirst, and 
when you will beg for some one to go and warn your family 
not to come into that place of torment. Luke 16 : 27, 28. 

Before you put this tract out of your hand, I want 
you to give a direct answer to these questions. Say from 
your heart, before your Maker and Judge, " God helping 
me, I will without delay seek after him ; I will set up his 
service in my house ; I will pray with and for my fam- 
ily ; 1 will put the -word of God in their hands, and strive 
to teach them its sacred doctrines ; I will take my family 
regularly to the house of God ; I will there, and in my 
family and in my closet, pray to God for the sacred influ- 
ences of his Holy Spirit to renew my own heart, and all 
the members of my family." 

To persuade you to form such resolutions, is the design 
of my coming into your house. And I want you, before 
you turn your thoughts to any other subject, to make these 
resolutions. If you do not begin now, I cannot see any 
reason why you will ever begin. If your house was on 
fire, would you wait until to-morrow to put out the flames? 
To-morrow your soul may be in hell. To-morrow your 
children may be in eternity. God says, "To-day." His 
voice is the voice both of wisdom, mercy, and love. To- 
day you may be saved. To-day come thou and all thy 
house into the ark. To-morrow the door may be shut, and 
the vengeance of a dishonored and provoked God may 
overwhelm you in endless ruin. 

My visit has been to invite you to come to Christ, and 
by divine help, to bring with you your wife, your children, 
and servants. Will you come ? 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 540. 

THE TEACHER. 



Travelling in a mountainous region at nightfall of a 
tempestuous day, and having lost my road, I was directed 

for a lodging to " Squire D 's, who keeps the ferry " 

After supper, I had a pleasant talk with the father of 

Squire D , on whose head the snows of eighty winters 

had fallen, and soon the family were gathered round us, 
engaged in delightful converse. I inquired as to the high- 
handed wickedness of a neighborhood not far off^, where 
1 had heard that meetings were frequently held in muck- 
ery of religious worship — 

"Yes, yes," said the squire, with just enough of the 
Welsh accent to betray his origin, " and our neighborhood 
here was just as bad ten years ago ; we were all alike ; 
no church, no preacher, no Sunday-school, no day-school. 
One evening a minister and a young lady stopped at my 
house for the night; I thought them very inquisitive 
people. They asked if we had any preaching. ' No.' Any 
schools ? ' No ; we have had several teachers, but no one 
will stay more than a quarter with us ' The young lady 
said she would come and take a school among us, if we 
would employ her. After some further conversation, I 
told her I would see what could be done and write her 
the result. Next morning they left for the minister's 
home at M , some fifty miles distant. 

" In a short time I had a school made up and board 
engaged for the new teacher, and wrote her to that elicct. 
She came and commenced her school at the time appointed. 
But soon there was complaint that the new teacher read 
the Bible and inayed in her scliool. And her troubles did 
not cease here. The man at whose house she boarded 
insisted that she should leave, because she prayed, sung 
hymns, and would keep talking about religion all the time. 
Miss H then set out to look up another home for her- 
self; but she met the same reply from all : ' We cannot 
receive you, unless you leave off praying and singing.' 

" When she applied to me, I objected on the same 
grounds. Finally, 1 told her if she would come on my 
own terms, I would take her into my family. She inquired 



2 THE TEACHER. 

wnat those terms were. 'Why/ said i, 'you shall have 
such a room to yourself; there you are to stay from the 
time you return from school until you start to go back, 
only when you come to your meals : you must not sing 
hymns ; you may pray as much as you please, but mind you 
don't let us hear you at it; and ronember, the first time 
you infringe this contract, you leave tiie premises.' To all 
this she agreed with as much meekness as if my terms 
had been reasonable and right. That evening she took up 
her abode under my roof; and little did I think what a 
blessing God was sending me in that frail, delicate girl. 

"The children all loved the new teacher very much. 
So one day she told them to ask their parents' permission, 
and if they were agreed, she would teach them on Sunday 
too. This proposal pleased us all. If she taught on Sun- 
day, that was so much clear gain to us. 

" I soon observed that my children took to staying in 
the teacher's room much of their time. At length, one 
Sunday morning, they came down with some tracts ; I 
looked over them, and found they were on the subject of 
religion. Ah, said 1, my lady, I've caught you now. I 
called her down, told her she had violated her contract, 
and must be off. The poor girl began to weep ; I felt 
ashamed. ' Dear sir,' said she, * will you read those tracts ? 
If you do, and still continue in your present mind, I will 
leave your house immediately.' 

" Here was a pretty fix ; the children were all crying, 

and begging me not to send Miss H away ; and the 

books, Oh, they could not part with the books. I was 
mightily perplexed; at last 1 gave in. Said I, 'Miss 

H , you may go back to your room ; I will consider 

the matter.' I shall never forget the smile that passed 
over her face as she thanked me and went back to her 
room. Thanked me, indeed ! Well, I set to work, read 
one of the tracts, felt self-condemned ; read it again, felt 
dreadfully troubled. Then 1 read them all, and felt that 1 

was a great sinner. I said nothing more to Miss H 

about leaving my house. Each day my convictions be- 
came deeper. At last I could bear it no longer. Thought 
1, this wont do ; I must talk with Miss H . So I in- 
vited her to come and sit with us in the family. She 
cheerfully complied. I asked her a great many questions 



THE TEACHER. 3 

about the doctrines of the Bible, not meaning to let her 
know any thing about my concern. But all Avould not 
do; my distress continued, or rather my agony, for I 
thought I was the greatest sinner on earth. 

'•At last, I sent one evening for Miss H to come 

down, and I told her my troubles ; for my proud heart was 

well-nigh broken. Said I, Miss H , 1 feel so and so 

ever since I read those tracts of yours ; and 1 related all 
that was passing in my mind ; and, said I, do you think 
there is any mercy or hope for such a poor miserable sin- 
ner ? The tears began to run down her cheeks; then 
she laughed ; then she caught me by both hands, and 
looking up into my face, she said, 'Oh, my dear friend, 1 
am so glad.' 'Why,' said I, 'are you glad because I am in 
trouble?' 'Oh, my dear sir,' says she, 'this is the Spirit 
of God operating on your heart.' All at once a great light 
seemed to shine into my mind. All that 1 had been 
learning for so many weeks seemed now just as plain as 

ABC. Said I, 'Come, Miss H , kneel down then 

and pray for me ;' and she did pray for me, and I do bless 
God for his wonderful mercy to such a poor hardened 
sinner. I believe that God did change my heart just 
while that verij prayer Avas going up. All at once it 
just came : I loved my Bible and I loved to pray, and I 
could not bear the company that I used to take so much 
delight in. 

"On the next Sabbath, Miss H asked me to go 

along with her and the children to the school — which 
was, and had been a Sunday-school, though Ave never 
suspected it ; and here came a trial. If I go, they Avill 
say 1 am getting religious ; if I stay, it Avill be a sin, for 

I know 1 ought to go ; and then it will grieve Miss H . 

These last considerations Avere the strongest ; so I Avent. 
The room Avas croAvcled Avith children, all Avaiting for their 
teacher ; I thought they all looked happy. After a little 

Avhile, Miss H took the Bible, and coming to me, she 

said, ' Mr. D , Avill you read and pray with us this 

morning?' I was startled.; my very heart trembled. 
Said I, ' Oh no ; not noAV.' Then she read a chapter and 
prayed herself. Oh, how I felt, to think that I Avas ashamed 
to pray before those children I Ah, thought I, this Avill 
never do ; I will come here and pray next Sunday. Thai 



4 THE TEACHER. 

night I read and prayed with my family ; and the next 
Sabbath 1 opened the school with prayer. 

" The news spread soon all through the setth^ment. 
D has got religion and is praying in the Sunday- 
school I strange news this. Very soon the people began 

to drop in to our Sunday-school. Then Miss H said 

to me, ' You had better read us a sermon at the Sunday- 
school, after the other exercises are over.' She selected 
the sermons, and I read them. Our meetings grew very 

solemn. Presently we sent word to a good man at B 

to send us a minister; he did so. The minister came 
and preached for us. The little school-house could not 
contain one-half the people who crowded to hear him. We 
held our meetings in the open air, under the trees. 

" Ah, that was a wonderful time ; the cry of the anx- 
ious sinner went up from every house. The Spirit of God 
was moving mightily upon the hearts of the people, and 
many were born into the kingdom of Christ. All this 
brought a great change in our settlement. Instead of the 
dance, and the gaming-table, and the foolish song, we had 
meetings for prayer and praise ; and the tavern and still- 
house were exchanged for the temple of God. 

" The Sabbath became a day of holy rest among a 
peo])le who used to spend it in revelry or idleness. Houses 
of worship were built, where our population flocked every 
Sabbath to hear the preached word from the living minis- 
ter ; and in the course of two or three years, hundreds 
professed faith in Christ, and joined the church. We have 
had a flourishing church here ever since. Ah," said the 
good man, in his peculiarly emphatic way, " see what God 
hath wrought for us." 

Kow often have I reproached myself, when I contrasted 
the heroic conduct of this devoted female with my own 
man-fearing spirit I She has gone to her reward : her 
memory will be cherished for a few more years in the 
hearts of those to whom her humble eflbrts were of such 
immense value, and then pass away and be forgotten. 
But her influc?ice will pass on, an ever increasing current, 
down the long tracts of time, and throughout the endless 
ages of eternity. 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]Vo. 547. 

JUST TOO LATE. 



The wharf from which one of our large steam-boats 
was about to start, was crowded with persons of ahnost eve- 
ry description. Every one seemed full of life and activity, 
and those who were about to take their passage in her, 
were anxious to secure their places. At length the last 
bell gave notice that the time for departure had come. The 
captain, standing aloft near the wheel-house, gave the sig- 
nal for the plank to be raised, and the boat slowly left the 
wharf. At this moment, a traveller was seen running in 
great haste to the landing ; but before he could get to the 
wharf, the boat was beyond his reach, and he turned back 
disappointed, exclaiming that it was always his misfortune 

to be " JUST TOO LATE." 

A physician sat in his office ; the night was cold anJ 
stormy, but the bright fire in the grate, and the other com- 
forts with which he was surrounded, rendered him indifier- 
ent to the inclemency of the weather. He had just opened 
an interesting book, and was anticipating a quiet evening, 
when he heard a knock at his door, and upon opening it, he 
was addressed by a little girl, who said, in a sad voice, 
" Please, sir, wont you come to see my mother ? she is very 
sick." "Where do you live?" "We live quite near, in 

F street," was the reply. " I will co'me and see your 

mother in a few minutes," said he, and the child left the 
door. The doctor glanced for a moment at the rain, which 
was fast falling in the street, and then turning a lingering 
look to the fire and the comforts he was about to leavci 
again took his seat saying to himself that he would jus"* 
finish one chapter before he ventured out. An hour passed, 
and still he moved not; that chapter had been finished, 
and many more, and yet, so interested was he in his book, 
that his promise was entirely ibrgotten, till he was aroused 
by another knock, and the same plaintive voice, saying, 
*' Please, sir, wont you come now ? mother is much worse." 



2 JUST TOO LATE. 

Reproaching himself for his neglect, he rose hastily, and 
told the child to lead the way, and he would follow. Walk- 
ing quickly through the streets, in a few minutes they were 
at the house; and upon opening the door, he found himself 
in the room where the poor woman was lying ; but how did 
his heart sink within him, when he saw that life was just 
departing, and perceived that, although an hour ago her life 
might have been saved, yet now he was "just too late." 
My dear reader, permit me to inquire whether you have 
an interest in the Saviour's sacrihce, and have made your 
peace with God. If not, allow me, with all kindness, to 
present you a few reasons why you should attend to the 
interests of your never dying soul, lest, if you put it off, it 
may be for ever too late. The promises and invitations of 
the Bible are only made with regard to the present time- 
*'Now is the accepted time ; now is the day of salvation;'' 
*' to-day if you will hear his voice, harden not your heart.' 
In all the Bible there is no offer of mercy for future repent- 
ance. Now, what would you think of a man, justly con- 
demned to die, and only awaiting the day of his execution 
without knowing when it might come, to whom his king 
whom he had offended had sent many messengers and let- 
ters, telling him if he would repent and ask for pardon his 
life should be spared : and who, notwithstanding all this . 
should refuse time after time, saying that there was " still 
time enough," till at last, his patience and long-suffering 
having been exhausted, the king, instead of a message of 
mercy, Bent an order for his execution ? AVould you not 
say that he deserved to die ? And yet this is just your 
case. The Bible declares that we are all "condemned 
already," and if you are out of Christ, that condemnation 
still rests upon you. But God, who is not willing that any 
should perish, has sent you, by the mouth of his servants, 
many invitations and warnings ; and this tract comes to 
you as a letter from him, saying, "Turn ye, turn ye, for 
why will ye die ?" Oh do not refuse. To-morrow he may 
say of you, as of the barren fig-tree, " Cut it down ; why 
cumbcrcth it the ground?" 



JUST TOO LATE. 5 

Eighteen hundred years ago, when Paul the apostle to 
the Gentiles was taken prisoner, and carried before Felix 
to answer lor his religion, wc read that, "as Paul reasoned 
of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix 
trembled, and said. Go thy way for this time ; when I have a 
convenient season, I will call for thee." Alas, that conven- 
ient season never came ; and should you now put off relig- 
ion with the same excuse, a more convenient season will 
never arrive for you. You will never again have a more 
favorable opportunity to believe in Christ and trust in him 
for salvation, never have less sin to repent of, than you 
have this day. 

You know that " unless a man be born again, he cannot 
enter into the kingdom of God," and yet you are willing 
to put off repentance and faith in Christ. How strange! 
Suppose that, as you were travelling to a neighboring city, 
you should meet an acquaintance coming from the oppo- 
site direction, and yet hoping to reach the same city as 
yourself. "But," say you, "my friend, you are going the 
wrong way." "Oh, I know that," says he, "but after 
travelling this way for some distance further, I intend to 
retrace my steps before night come." Would you not 
think he had lost his reason? And would you wonder if, 
M'hcn night came, he was still travelling in the wrong 
direction, or at best groping his way in the dark, vainly 
striving to find the road that led to the city ? Need I say 
that this is a fair representation of your case ? You are a 
traveller to eternity ; you acknowledge that you are a sin- 
ner, but you hope to be a follower of Jesus before you die. 
Oh beware lest, like the traveller, the night of death over- 
take you, while you are vainly striving to grope your way 
to the Saviour amid the fast-falling shades of a dying hour. 
Perhaps you reason with yourself that you can go on in 
your sins till you wish to stop, and then, with but little 
effort, can break away from all your evil habits and be a 
Christian. Alas, you know not what you are doing, but 
are like the man who stepped into a boat some distance 
above the falls of Niafrara, and was slowlv borne down the 



4 JUST TOO LATE. 

stream. At first he smiled on all around, feeling confident 
of his power to stop himself; but as he got further into 
the current, and saw that he was going onward with in- 
creasing velocity, he cried out in great alarm, and strove 
to stop himself in his mad career; but alas, it was tJien 
""too latef'' and he was borne over the falls, and lost in the 
abyss beneath I 

Do you say that you "have no time ?" Suppose that 
God, having offered salvation to you which you refuse, 
should now declare, that henceforth your own repentancg, 
would avail you nothing; but that your salvation would 
depend upon the repentance and faith of some one of your 
ungodly acquaintance ; and if he died without repentance, 
you must be for ever lost. Would you not go to that man 
and urge him, by all the motives you could think of, to 
repent? And should he s^y that he had "not time now, 
but would attend to it at a more convenient season," how 
anxious you would be that he should not put it off; and 
how small and insignificant would all his concerns appear, 
in comparison with your soul's salvation. Oh, then, let not 
Satan deceive you. To-day the Saviour says, " Behold, 1 
stand at the door and knock." Open to him without delay, 
lest if he should depart from you, he may never return. 

"Hasten, sinner, to be wise; 

Stay not for the morrow's sun : 
"Wisdom if you still despise, 
Harder is it to be won. 

"Hasten, sinner, to be blest; 

Stay not for the morrow's sun ; 
Lest perdition thee arrest 
Ere the morrow is begun. 

''Hasten, sinner, to return; 

Stay not for the morrow's sun ; 

Lest thy lamp should cease to burn, 

Ere salvation's work is done." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



iVo. 548. 

THE MISSIONARY'S NEPHEW. 



De "Witt Hunt, of tlie Junior class in the New York 
University, a promising yontli of nineteen, "the only son 
of his mother, and she a widow," died in humble, joyful 
trust in the Redeemer, January 19, 1852. A train of 
circumstances, commencing with the following letter which 
was addressed to him a little more than two months be- 
fore his death, by his mother's brother, Rev. Dr. Scudder, 
the veteran missionary to India, will be regarded with 
interest by those who love to trace the dispensations of 
divine Providence and grace. 

The letter, it will be perceived, was written at Madras, 
on the other side of the globe, November 12, and breathes 
the spirit of prayer, love, and fidelity, which the author 
has manifested for multitudes of the young. Four days 
after the letter was written, Sabbath, November 16, his 
mother, as if by an impulse from on high, spent the wdiole 
evening with him in religious conversation and prayer, to 
which he gave the most seriouis attention. On November 
27, he called on the pastor whose ministry he attended, 
and "addressed him in anxious inquiry for the way of 
life." On December 10, he first expressed to his mother 
a trembling hope in Christ. On January 8, he was exam- 
ined for admission to the church, and on this day the letter 
from his uncle was received. As ho read it, his spirit 
responded to it all, and he said, "If my heart were not 
now in the right place, I do not know how I should bear 
it." On Sabbath, January 1 1, he joined the people of God 
in comni'-morating the Lord's death at his table. "/( icas 
the la-^f. daij of the two months which Ids uncle liad set 
apart for special prayer.^' 

He returned from the communion-season to the cham- 
ber of death, the state of his mind calling for "rather 
praise than prayer" from the pastor and all around him. 
ifis heart was set on the ministry and the missionary 
work, but he sweetly acquiesced in the divine will, dwell- 
ing on the suflerings and glory of Christ, and the assur- 
ance that nothing should separate him from his love. As 
he perceived death approaching, he exclaimed, " 1 am now 



2 . THE MISSIONARYS NEPHEW. 

ready at any moment to say. Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. 
The Lord is my strength , of whom shall 1 be afraid ? It is 
better to die than to live." Nor did the blessing rest on 
him alone. His only brother died in peace on the day he 
was admitted to the church. A number of that family 
circle were awakened and publicly professed Christ, among 
whom were both of his surviving sisters, and a daughter 
of Dr. Scudder who had returned to this country. The 
letter is sent forth in the hope that it may be blessed in 
gathering other fruits unto eternal life. 

"Madras, November 12, 1852. 

" My dear Nephew — Harriet received your letter by 
the last steamer. I have not the least evidence from that 
letter that you love the Saviour, for you do not even refer 
to him. On this account, I may perhaps be warranted in 
coming to the conclusion that He is not much in your 
thoughts. Be this, however, as it may, I have become so 
much alarmed about your spiritual condition as to make 
you a special subject of prayer — as to set you apart for 
this purpose; and I design, God willing, to pray for you 
in a special manner, until about the time when this letter 
should reach you, that is, about two months. After that, 
I can make you no promise to pray for you, any further 
than I may pray for my friends in general. 1 have now set 
apart a little season to pray for you, and to write to you. 

"Do you wonder at this? Has it never occurred to 
you a?, a very strange thing, that others should be so much 
concerned for you, while you are unconcerned for yourself ? 
I can explain the mystery. It is this. Your pious friends 
have seen you, and your uncle among the rest, has seen 
you walking over the pit of destruction on a rotten cover- 
ing as it were, liable at every moment to fall through it 
and drop into everlasting burnings. This you have not • 
seen, and therefore you have remained so careless and 
indifferent. Whether this caralcssness and indifference 
will continue, of course I know not. All that I can say 
is, that I am greatly alarmed about you. It is no small 
thing for you to trample under foot the blood of Christ for 
nineteen years. It is no small thing to spend nineteen 
years in rebellion against God. Justly might the Saviour 
say of you, as he said of the people of old, " Ephraim is 
joined to idols ; let him alone." Your treatment of the 



THE MISSIONARY'S NEPHEW. 3 

blessed Saviour is what grieves me to the heart. What 
has ho not done to rave you? Were you to fall into a 
AVf 11, and a stranger should run to your help and take you 
out, that stranger Avould for ever afterwards be esteemed 
as your chief friend. Nothing could be too much for you 
to do for him. Of nothing would you be more cautious 
than of grieving him. And has Christ come down from 
heaven to save you ? Has he died for you ? Has he shed 
his very blood for you, in order that you might be deliv- 
ered from the worm that dieth not, and from the fire which 
is never quenched ? And can you be so ungrateful, so 
wicked, as not to love him ? My dear nephew, this will 
not do, it must not do. You must alter your course. But 
I will stop writing for a moment, and kneel down and 
entreat God's mercy for yoii. 1 will endeavor to present 
the sacrifice of my Redeemer at the throne of grace, that 
I may, for this sacrifice' sake, call down the blessing of the 
Holy Spirit of God upon you. — 

" I have been away and plead for you ; and how many 
prayers has not your dear mother made in your behalf. 
Whether you will wade down to hell through these pray- 
ers, or not, remains to be seen. Should you be lost after 
all that has been done for you, after all the prayers which 
have been offered for you, how sad, how sad I Oh, that 
word lost. 'What a living scorpion will it be to you? 
deathless soul I' But let me hope better things. Let me 
hope, that though your rebellion against Christ has reach- 
ed even up to the end of your nineteenth year — alarming 
thought indeed — it is now to come to an end for ever. 
Let me yet hope for your salvation. But for me to enter- 
tain such a hope, there must be an entire change in you. 
You must be born again. You must give up this vain 
world as your portion, repent^ and give yourself entirely 
and unconditionally to your Saviour. And will you do 
this ? And will you do it now ? H so, throw yourself at 
his feet; tell him that you are a wretch undone, deserving 
nothing but his vengeance. Tell him that though you 
have trampled on his blood, you will, in his strength, do 
so no more, but be His for ever. Plead with him with 
tears of anguish, to give you the influences of his Holy 
Spirit, to create in you a clean heart, and renew within 
you aright spirit, without which you are eternally undone; 



4 .THE iliSSIOXARY'S NEPHEW. 

and continue to plead until you hear liim say, ' Son, go in 
peace; thy sins are forgiven thee.' 

*'But notwithstanding all the hopes just expressed, 
there may be an entirely did'erent result. It may be that 
you will not comply with perhaps my last entreaties for 
you to dedicate yourself to Christ now. If so, I must tell 
3'ou, my precious nephew, that it w^ll be no wonder if 
God should withdraw his Spirit from you for ever. You 
very well know, that if one comes to your door day after 
day, and is received with unkindness, he will leave you 
to return no more. Christ, the best and the only real 
friend whom you have in the universe, has come to you by 
his Spirit day after day, and month after month, and year 
after year, and Oh, dreadful to relate, for nineteen long 
years. Do you yourself think that he ought any longer to 
continue to come to you ? To-day he is coming, perhaps 
for the last lime If you reject him to-day, I shall not 
wonder if he abandons you to your own ways, to be filled 
with your own devices. I shall not wonder, if this day a 
seal is put in heaven to your everlasting damnation. 

"And now, my dear nephew. I bid you farewell. It 
will be but a little while befjrc you and I are summoned 
to appear at the judgment-scat of Christ — the judgment- 
seat of the last day — that awful, that dreadful day. Oh, 
how will your heart sinlc and die within you, if, with all 
those whose sins are not washed away in the blood of the 
Lamb, you hear the awful sentence, ' Depart, ye cursed, 
into everlasting tire, prepared for the devil and his anirels.' 
And when millions and millions of years shall have rolled 
away, and you are constrained by the gnawings of the 
worm which never dies, and by the torments of that fire 
Avhich is never quenched, to lift up your voice and say, 
*How long, Lord, yet how long?' and when the voice of 
in.^inite justice proclaims, for ever, with what wailings 
and bitter lamentations Avill you look back and remember 
the transactions of this day, when you deliberately and vol- 
untarily chcsc the world instead of Christ as your porti&n! 
" Your aScctionate uncle, 

-J. SCUDDER.'" 



PUDLISIILD r>V THE A.^IERICAX TRACT SOCIETY. 



rVo. 549 

THE 

POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST 

IN 

THE LAST YEARS OF JOHN COLBY, 



"Wonderful things happen in this world, and one of 
them is that John Colby has become a Christian," was a 
remark addressed to the tenant upon his home farm, by 
a great statesman, one of the most distinguished of his 
country and age. According to a fine habit of his when 
visiting his native hills of New Hampshire, Mr. AYebster 
had been engaged in seeking out the acquaintances of his 
childhood. He had just returned from a visit to the old 
friend named, and after sitting in his mansion a while, 
as if in thought upon the interview recently had, he sud- 
denly and emphatically gave utterance to the above re- 
mark. 

It icas a wonderful thing that happened in this world 
when John Colby became a Christian, although the won- 
der and joy of it were not confined to this earth. He 
was brother-in-law to the great statesman, and at the 
period of the change referred to, had reached the age of 
eighty-four years, a time of life at which the natural sensi- 
bilities are apt to be blunted, and the habits of sin fixed 
and strong in the soul. Strange as it may seem, such 
had been his heedlessness of instruction, that though 
surrounded by an intelligent community, he had never 
learned to read. What knowledge and mental discipline 
he possessed had been acquired in the school of the 
world, and not by means of books. 

Under such circumstances, it is remarkable that any 
considerable change should take place in his character. 
That a revolution should be wrought in it such as should 
place the remaining years of his life in direct contrast 
with his whole previous career, is wonderful, and can b.e 
VOL. xm. 10 



2 POWER AND (jRACE OF CHRIST. 

attributed only to the power of Him who wrought mir- 
acles of grace on the day of Pentecost, and converted the 
hostile traveller on his way to Damascus. The writer 
enjoyed frequent opportunities of visiting the subject of 
these pages after his conversion, and the following nar- 
rative is taken substantially from his own lips. 

Mr. Colby had a pious mother, who inculcated upon 
him when a child the precepts and duties of the Bible, 
and her teachings dwelt in his memory and conscience. 
These, with the subsequent counsels and solicitude of his 
wife, at times deeply impressed him with the importance 
of seeking the salvation of his soul. The goodness of 
God, also, in bestowing temporal blessings — in enabling 
him to get free from debt, and to acquire a competency 
for the support of himself and family — sometimes aifected 
his heart and called forth the feeling of obligation to de- 
vote himself to the service of God. But the love of the 
world grew strong within him, and his desire for earthly 
treasures quenched his anxieties as to his salvation. From 
year to year he neglected the claims of God, till at length 
age stole upon him, and his brow was whitened by the 
snows of more than fourscore years. 

" What was it," inquired the writer, " that at last 
roused you to act in view of the prospect before you?" 

" The good words of my mother and of my wife," he 
replied, " kept by me, but I thought there would be time 
enough left to seek the Lord, until last fall, an acquaint- 
ance of mine dropped down dead. He was standing at the 
railroad depot, as well as usual, and without any warning 
he fell down dead, I felt that it was time for me to get 
ready to die." 

" What did you do when this warning reached you ?" 

" I cried to the Almighty to have mercy upon me ; to 
pardon and save my soul. I prayed to him day and 
night." 

" Did he hear you immediately?" " Not at first. But 
I was afraid to die. So I kept calling upon him, and he 
gave me a heart for this hook^'' said he, putting his hand 
upon a New Testament in large type before him, kept 
open by his spectacles at the place where he had been 
trying to read. " The Almighty gave me a heart for this 
blessed Testament.'^ 



POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 3 

" But you were not able to read it ?" " No ; but my 
cliildren read some of it to me, and I began to learn to 
read it for myself." 

" Did you not find it hard work, at your time of life, 
to begin with your letters and learn to read ?" i. 

" Yes, it was hard work. It was difficult for me to 
find out the meaning. Sometimes I would find a part of 
a word on this end of the line, and another part of it over 
on the other end of the next line, and I could not make 
out the sense. But I would pray to the Almighty to help 
me, and then I would try again, and he would help me 
to find it out. So that now I have read the Testament 
through eight times, and here I am, in the epistle oi 
Peter the ninth time ; and 0," added he, with streaming 
eyes, " it is glory and praise in my heart." 

Deeply interesting was it to see this aged man, so 
recently awakened to the realities of his immortal exist- 
ence, and in possession of the true portion of his soul, 
pour out his feelings of confidence and joy in God. His 
form was large and vigorous, his ample features and 
expanded brow, crowned with hair abundant and white 
as the driven snow, imparted to him an air at once ven- 
erable and commanding ; while the deep furrows which 
grooved his countenance suggested the thought of a strong 
impelling power, and gave token of the fires of passion 
that had burned and raged within. But the harshness 
was now softened, and his features were lighted up with 
the benignity of heavenly love. The Bible had met his 
wants ; he was filled with rapture, and from the abun- 
dance of his heart his mouth spoke. 

Desirous of knowing what relation his joyful experi- 
ence bore to the power and grace of the Redeemer, I 
once asked him how Christ appeared to him. He raised 
his hands adoringly, and exclaimed, " Glorious, blessed 
Saviour!" After expressing, at some length, his love 
and gratitude, he gave the following relation. 

" When I began to seek religion, I determined that 1 
would not go to the Son of God, nor to the prophets nor 
apostles, but to the Almighty. I determined to go to the 
Being that built the mountains, and made the rivers and 
the trees, and created all the world." 

He was standing, as he spoke, on the threshold of his 



4 POWER AND ailACE OF CHRIST. 

cottage door. A short distance before him flowed the 
waters of the beautiful Pemigewasset. Beyond it sloped 
the hills, which extending off to the north and east, rise 
into the magnificence of the Franconia and White moun- 
tain ranges. As the venerable old man spoke, he pointed 
with an air of dignity to these familiar tokens of divine 
power. " I wanted," he said, " a religion that should be 
good and strong, and that would keep by me, and help me 
when I came to die. So I cried to the Almighty, and he 
gave me a heart for the blessed Testament. I found out 
how to read it, and then I read in it that Jesus Christ 
made the world, and the rivers and the mountains. And 
then I began to pray to him that he would give me a 
new heart; and he gave it to me. And I read that when 
he lived on the earth he healed the sick and the blind, 
and was good to the poor, and then I knew that he would 
be kind to me ; and he forgave me, and gave me a new 
heart." And then in a manner impossible to describe, 
he broke forth into an ardent doxology "to Christ the 
Almighty God, who had been so kind to him and given 
him a new heart." 

On one occasion, I asked him how he expected to 
keep his hold upon the Saviour, and preserve his joy and 
delight in him. " Oh," he replied, " I must read the 
blessed words of Christ and obey all his commandments ; 
and don't you think the Almighty will help me to keep 
on and hold out to the end ?" I assured him that Christ 
who built the mountains and created the world and the 
men who live in it, is able to keep all that we commit to 
him, and that he will never leave or forsake those who 
trust and obey him. 

This state of religious sensibility and enjoyment did 
not prove transitory, but continued till the close of his 
life, a period of about three years. The most of his 
waking hours he employed in studying the New Testa- 
ment. His soul appropriated its truths and fed upon 
them. This was the only book he ever read. His 
attention was several times called to the Old Testament; 
but it was always a toil to him to read, and he had be- 
come to a degree familiar with the New Testament writ- 
ings, which became increasingly precious to him, so that 
he never left them. 



rOWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 5 

The change wrought in the character and spirit of 
Mr. Colby was great. He had been harsh and domi- 
neering in his spirit. He had been hard and exact- 
ing in his treatment of others. His passions had been 
strong and unregulated. He had neglected the worship 
of God and the ordinances of the gospel, and at times 
had been opposed to the oflering of prayer by any one in 
his family. The work to be accomplished in his sou] 
was obviously great. It is not asserted that every thing 
desirable was wrought in him ; it must be acknowledged 
that he had faults to the last. Still, without doubt, 
he told the truth to his great kinsman and friend, when 
he said to him, " I have had done for me, Daniel, what 
neither you nor all the great men in the world could do 
for me. I have got a new heart." His spirit and tem- 
per were softened and improved ; and the power of the 
gospel, having carried the main citadel of the heart, 
seemed to make progress in the conquest of his sinful 
habits as long as he lived. 

To worship God became his delight. One Sabbath 
evening, when he could no longer go to the sanctuary, 
the writer held a religious service at his house. At 
his request, the neighbors had been invited in, that he 
might once more have an opportunity of worshipping 
God in company with them. The exercises appeared 
to refresh and rejoice him. The singing particularly, 
seemed to elevate his spirit and waft it away to the 
realms of perpetual praise and song. He could not with- 
hold his thanks from the singers who had come to sing 
with him " the Lord's sweet hymns." 

Some months before he was taken seriously ill, he 
became lame, so that he was unable to walk abroad. 
This was a trial, as it prevented his going around to de- 
clare to others the precious Saviour and his joy in him. 
As long as he lived he was anxious to bring others to be- 
hold the glory of Christ as a Saviour, and to submit their 
hearts to him. 

His last illness, which was accompanied with much 
suffering, he bore with Christian patience and resigna- 
tion. On one occasion, and as far as known on one occa- 
sion only, darkness came over his spirit, and in tones of 
anguish, he exclaimed to a granddaughter pres^^nt, '' O, 



6 POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 

Dorcas, if I should be cast off at last, what should I do ?" 
But the eclipse was not of long duration ; faith resumed 
its sway, and the almighty Saviour, who reared the moun- 
tains and hills, manifested his presence in the hour of his 
extremity, and brought light and salvation. He called his 
grandchildren around him, reminded them that they must 
all die like their old grandfather, and exhorted them early 
to give their hearts to Christ. Disease gradually in- 
creased upon him, until at length on the sixth of August, 
1852, he yielded his willing spirit to the divine Re- 
deemer, at the age of eighty-seven years. When noth- 
ing else that he uttered could be understood by the friends 
in attendance upon him, "Jesus," " glory," were the last 
articulate sounds that dwelt upon his lips. 

The power and grace of Christ are strikingly illus- 
trated in the life of Mr. Colby. Created and placed on 
earth to glorify God, for more than fourscore years he 
neglected the Author of his being, and left unaccom- 
plished the great work of life. Powers of mind were 
wasted, influence for good was lost, exposure to divine 
wrath and everlasting ruin was dared, yet forgiveness 
was found with God. Habits of sin had been formed, 
and the faculties and susceptibilities of his soul devoted 
to his own worldly objects, yet Almighty power was be- 
stowed — the Holy Spirit's influence was sent to recover 
his soul and fit it for heaven. 

No one could come into the presence of Mr. Colby in 
his latest years, and witness the action of his mind under 
the influence of the Saviour's love, and not feel that his 
powers were much greater than ordinary, and that they 
had been fitted for great influence and usefulness in life ; 
but they were perverted, and employed in the service of 
sin. How admirable the grace, that so long forebore, and 
at last restored and saved. It was the constant theme of 
his tongue. It filled his heart with joy and praise. While 
the hazards and ingratitude of such a life should deter 
men from neglecting the call of the gospel for a day, the 
example of sovereign grace and power here presented 
should encourage every aged sinner, even the most aged, 
to call upon God, and press into his kingdom. Jesus Christ 
here " shows forth all long-suflering, for a pattern," that 
men may " hereafter believe on him to life everlasting." 



POWER AND uRA^.'E OF CHRIST. < 

It is interesting also to notice the manner in which 
Mr. Colby came to a true knowledge of God, and found 
life in his Son. Unenlightened as to the way of ap- 
proaching (rod, and prejudiced against Christ as the 
uncreated and divine Redeemer, he resolved not to go to 
him, but to go directly to the Almighty Father. Yet he 
was resolved to seek the Lord, and he was earnest and 
sincere. A gracious God showed him the way by giving 
him a heart for the Bible. In that sacred book was a 
full disclosure of the true and living " Way " to everlast- 
ing life. He did not hesitate as to his course. He en- 
tered at once upon the stupendous task of acquiring, in 
extreme old age, a knowledge of the English language, 
that he might himself read and learn the mind of God 
and the way to glory. He succeeded in the work. His 
earnest mind, shrewd and practised in worldly affairs, 
soon found in the Bible what reason had before taught 
him, that the Builder and Maker of all things is God. 
And he soon read that all created beings and things were 
made by Christ — that he created them all for himself and 
not for another — that by him they continue to exist — and 
that he is " Head over all things " for the purpose of estab- 
lishing his kingdom in the hearts of men and over the 
whole world. This was such a Saviour as, from the first, 
he had felt he needed. 

He read also that Christ was God manifest in the 
fesh — that he was the man Christ Jesus ; and with 
open heart he dwelt on his recorded kindness when on 
earth — upon his sufferings and death, and his propitia- 
tion for the sins of the world. In this scriptural portrai- 
ture of Christ, he discovered a foundation for hope on 
which he could venture, and that would be firm as the 
everlasting mountains. He planted himself upon it. He 
believed and found life. On Christ he rested all his 
hopes ; and to him, at last, like the dying Stephen, he 
committed his soul, in expectation of a glorious immor- 
tality. 

In like manner doth Jehovah Jesus, the crucified one, 
present his glorious attractions to the view of every lost 
sinner, and invite him to take refuge in Him — to repent, 
believe, obey, and live for ever. Why should He not be 
sought and found as the deliverer and hope of every sin- 



8 POWER AND GRACE OF CHRIST. 

ful heart? Why should not "Jesus," "glory," be the 
watch wo4-d and song of every one while travelling through 
the valley of the shadow of death ? 



' JEHOVAH TSIDKENU*— THE LORD OUR 
RIGHTEOUSNESS." 

I once was a stranger to grace and to God, 
I knew not my danger and felt not my load ; 
Though friends spoke in rapture of Christ on the tree, 
''Jehovah Tsidkenu" wis nothing to me. 

When free grace awoke me by light from on high, 
Then legal fears shook me; I trembled to die: 
No refuge, no safety in self could I see, 
"Jehovah Tsidkenu " my Sa-»our must be. 

My terrors all vanished before the sweet name; 
My guilty fears banished, with boldness I came, 
To drink at the fountain, life-giv'ng and free — 
"Jehovah Tsidkenu " is all things to me. 

"Jehovah Tsidkenu!" my treasure and boast; 
" Jehovah Tsidkenu !" I ne'er can be lost : 

In thee I shall conquer, by flood and by field; 

My cable, my anchor, my breastplate ^nd shield. 

Even treading the valley, the shadow of death, 
This watchword shall rally my faltering breath ; 
For while from life's fever my God sets me free, 
^ l^hovah Tsidkenu" my death-song shall be. 

M'CinsTjra 



• Jeremiah 23 : 6 and 33 : 16, marginal reading. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 



]^o. 550, 



SOWING AND REAPING 



A DIALOGUE. 




PARTI. 
MONDAY EVENINGo 
Solomon. I am glad, neighbor, we happened to meet. 
John. Well, company does not make a road longer. 
And now that work is so scarce, many a weary walk we 
are likely to have of it to this out-of-the-way place. 

SoLOMOx. Still, John, work is worth a walk any day , 
and so I doubt not you will think it on Saturday night, 
when you put your money into your wife's hand. 

John. Well, for all that, one gets weary with the best 
10* 



2 SOWING AND REAPING. 

pail of four miles to tread morning and night ; and besides. 
I can tell you I have been working extra hard to-day. 

Solomon. What have you been doing, neighbor ? 

John. "Wheat-sowing ; the man I work for had hali a 
field to finish, and he was very anxious to have it done. 

Solomon. We have both been about the same work, 
for I have been sowing — sowing tivo crops at once, 1 
hope. 

John. Two crops at once, man ^ what do you mean? 

Solomon. One for this world, and the other for the 
next : one for next summer's harvest, please God ; the 
other for heaven's harvest : one for my good master yon- 
der ; the other for my Master above. 

John. Strange enough ; all riddles to me. Explain 
yourself. 

Solomon. If you will allow me, I will read two verses 
of God's word, which just show what I mean, (taking a 
well-worn Bible out of his pocket.) 

John. What, do you carry that book about with you, 
and all your tools too ? When do you find time to read it ? 

Solomon. Oh, it is no great weight, friend ; not half 
so heavy as that keg of beer you are carrying. I often 
get a nice thought out of it when under the hedge at 
noon-time, and so feed both body and soul. But will you 
hear these verses ? 

John. Yes, read on. 

Solomon. Only please remember they are the words 
of God, and not mine — that God Avho cannot lie. You 
will find them in Galatians 6 : 7, 8. "Be not deceived; 
God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soiveth^ that 
shall he also reap^ 

John. Well, but there is nothing here about a crop for 
the next world, and for the harvest of heaven, M^hich you 
were talking about. 



SOWING AND KilAPINa. 3 

S0L0310N. Listen, friend. It goes on, " For he that 
soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; but 
he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life 
everlasting." 

John. Well, that cannot mean wheat and barley, I 
grant you ; but it is quite above me : so now let us talk 
of something else. How old is your youngest child, the 
merry-faced little thing that chuckled to me the other day ? 

Solomon. Two years last July, John. But let us go 
back to what we were talking of; for I know if the Lord 
opened your eyes to see it, you would find it the most 
interesting subject in the world. May I ask you one 
question ? 

John. Oh, to be sure. 

Solomon. You see there are only two sorts of people 
spoken of in that verse — those who sow to the flesh, and 
those who sow to the Spirit ; and thus it is with all men 
Now, John, are you among those who are sowing to the 
flesh, or those who are sowing to the Spirit ? 

John. Well, I really cannot tell. You know God is 
merciful, and I hope to go to heaven when I die ; but as 
to which of these I am among, I tell you plainly I really 
don't know, for I have not thought much about it yet. 

SoLOMOxN. Thank you, friend, for being so plain with 
me. Now let me be plain with you. If you do not know 
in which of these classes you are, because you have not 
thought much about it, I must say I fear you are in the 
wrong one, and will reap the bad harvest. 

John. Well, that is what I call uncharitable. If I 
do not know myself, how should you have even a guess 
at it? 

Solomon. Why, this way, John. Because we are all 
from the first in the wrong class : that is clear from God's 
word ; for David says, " Behold, I was shapen in iniquity ; 



4 SOWING AND REAPING. 

and in sin did my mother conceive me." Psa. 51 : 5. 
Then, I fear you are in the wrong class, because I do not 
believe a person ever gets into the right without thinking 
a great deal about it — without being made by G od's Spirit 
to wish and pray and strive. For this change is compared 
in the Bible to the difference between night and day, be- 
tween sleep and wakefulness, between life and death. 
Now, could such a change take place without your know- 
ing any thing about it ? Could you be awake and stirring 
without ever having thought about it ? 0, neighbor, I 
tell you as your friend, I fear your soul is yet in a sleep 
and in a dream. I fear you are sowing for a bad har- 
vest. 

John. Your mind runs on sowing and reaping, I see ; 
but do you really think that my case in another world 
will be altered by what I have said and done to-day ? 

Solomon. Yes, I do, John ; you could scarcely have put 
it more to the point. I believe your thoughts and words 
and works to-day have all been seeds, and seeds that will 
grow too. You remember the Bible says, " Whatsoever a 
man soweth, that shall he also reap." Now, suppose there 
was a poor man who had a piece of land, and that all 
the support for himself and for his family depended on 
what he might sow in this land. Suppose he had two or 
three days allowed him in spring-time to sow it in. Sup- 
pose the ground was all prepared, and all things were in- 
viting him to sow. What would you say to such a man, 
John, if you passed him at noon-time, and saw him stand- 
ing idle at his cottage door, having lost many of the hours 
he could never call back again ? Would you not cry to 
him, "Friend, what can you be thinking of? the hours 
are flying fast ; seed-time is precious time ; do not waste 
it ; think of next winter — think of a starving wife and 
children ; up and be doing, friend, as you value your 
happiness." 



SOWING AND REAPING. 5 

John. To be sure I should, if I did not say any thing 
sharper; but I do not see that this is like my case. 

Solomon. Not exactly. Suppose you passed him the 
next day, and this time saw him sowing all kinds of seed 
in all directions ; scattering weeds instead of wheat, and 
seeds of poisonous herbs instead of those of nourishing 
food ; how would you feel then ? 

John. I can hardly suppose such a case. 

Solomon. It is difficult ; but would you not, if you 
loved him, say, " Friend, think what a harvest you will 
have ; whatsoever you sow you will surely reap. You 
are sowing misery and disappointment ; and such will be 
your harvest. Be warned ; prepare your ground quickly, 
and sow good seed while there is time." But suppose he 
were to refuse to listen, and to laugh at your earnestness, 
and peevishly to answer, " How foolish you are to think 
there is any connection between six months hence and 
now. Harvest, man, harvest ; that does not depend on 
what I am doing now for my own amusement. I hope to 
have a good harvest when the time comes, and to live in 
plenty as well as you" — and so he were to go on trifling 
away, or worse than trifling, the whole of his short and 
precious seed-time. What would you answer, John ? 

John. Well, I do not know, neighbor. 

Solomon. Would you not be heartily sorry for him, 
and say he was deprived of common-sense ? 

John. I tell you I never heard of such a case ; and 
yet I have half a guess what you are driving at. 

Solomon. Well, to tell the truth, I was shaping my 
thoughts to meet yours. Let us see how the case stands 
In the light of God's word, time and eternity stand close 
together ; this world and the next have close connection. 
They are bound together by a chain that nothing can 
separate. They are united as a stream with its own 
fountain-head : if the fountain be sweet, so will the stream 



6 SOWING AND REAPING. 

be , if the fountain be bitter, the waters will be bitter too. 
Or to stick to our old subject, they have as close a con- 
nection as the harvest with the seed-time and the seed 
that is sown. Neighbor, your life hereafter is bound up 
in your life here. Do not think to separate them. God 
tells you it is vain. He warns you not to be deceived 
because so many men are. I know, John, I am a poor 
wretched sinner myself, but I feel constrained to give you 
this message from God to your soul. " Be not deceived ; 
God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man soweth, that 
shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh, shall 
of the flesh reap corruption ; but he that soweth to the 
Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting." This 
world is the short seed-time, and the next world is the 
long, eternal harvest. Do make your girl Mary read 
those verses over to you and the rest at supper to-night. 
They are in Gal. 6:7, 8 ; and may God make them a 
message rf mercy to your soul, 

JoiLN. Well, I will, neighbor, for I do not know that I 
ever saw it so before. But here we are almost home, and 
not too soon either, for yonder comes the rain my master 
feared. I am right glad we got the wheat in when we 
did. 

SoLOMOiv. That reminds me of one thing more. The 
seed-time for our souls is uncertain. We cannot say we 
have even two or three days before us. Friend, your seed- 
time may be cut short any day, any hour, at a minute's 
notice. But here we part. Good-night to you, John. 

John. Go'-d-night, friend. Sixth chapter of Gala- 
tians, did you say? Good-night. 



SOWING ANL REAPING. 7 

PART II. 

TUESDAY MORNING. 

(John comes to Solomon's gate, and calls out to know 
if he is ready.) 

Solomon. Here I am ; we are in good time : ^and out 
comes Solomon with hoe, basket, and Bible.) 

JoHX. Bible in hand, I see, again ; however, I am not 
the man to quarrel with you for that. 

Solomon. Well, I hope you were not angry with me 
for what I said last night. 

John. Angry ? no. I never wish to be angry with 
a man for honestly telling me his mind. I like a true- 
speaking friend ; and besides, to tell you the truth, I was 
a long time before I got to sleep last night. 

Solomon. So was I : but what kept you awake, John? 
Did you get your girl Mary to read those verses ? 

JoHX. To be sure I did; but I will show you the 
whole of it. Do you know that I felt so strange about 
asking her, that we had got our supper long before I could 
make up my mind to it ; but at last I did say, " Mary, 
lassie, get the big Bible off the shelf there, and dust it, 
and look in the sixth chapter of Galatians till you find 
something about sowing and reaping," for I forgot the 
verse. She looked so surprised ; but she is a good girl to 
do a thing she thinks Avill please her father. She soon 
found the place, for she is very handy with her book, and 
read the verse out as smoothly as you could. Then she 
came and sat upon my knee, and would know why 1 
wanted to hear them. I told her you and I had been 
talking about seed-sowing, and you had read that text. 
But then she would know how the conversation began 
and what you had said, and what I had said, and all 
about it. So I had to go over it all again ; and my wife 
listened, and the rest, and closely too, to that story of the 



8 SOWING AND REAPING. 

man and his garden. But little Mary's eyes filled with 
tears, and she said, " Father, father, what shall we do 1 
Oh, father, if our seed-time should end to-night I" And 
she sohbed quite loud. Her question went right to my 
heart, and I thought again of what you had said. We 
all went to bed, but I could not get to sleep. I thought 
and thought within myself, we cannot have been sowing 
good seed without knowing it or caring about it. Then, 
again, I thought of what you said, that there were only 
two sorts of people, and that I was among the wrong 
sort, until it made me quite miserable, especially -when I 
thought again my seed-time may soon be over. At last, 
what with thinking and tossing about, I fell asleep, but I 
believe the old clock had struck twelve some time first. 

Solomon. I must say I thank God for it ; he often 
begins his work this way. But had it all worn off when 
you woke this morning, and found the sun shining as 
usual ? 

John. No, it had not, for I was thankful to think 
my seed-time was not over yet. I wished to pray, but 
scarcely knew how to set about it. So now tell me hotv 
you began. 

Solomon. Well, John, all the first part of my life my 
heart was without any good seed, and choked up with 
thorns besides. Busy enough I used to be about this 
world's concerns, till one day those words of Jesus were 
sent like an arrow to my heart, "What shall it profit a 
man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own 
soul?" Mark 8 : 36. Well, I said, I am risking my soul 
for a very little of the world. The thought of a lost soul. 
and that soul mine^ made me tremble. Wherever I went, 
whatever I did, it stared me in the face. I never thought 
I was safe. But at length God led me to cry in earnest, 
"What must I do to be saved?" And I made up my 
mind to go and tell our minister all I felt and feared. 



SOWlxNG AND REAPINO 9 

It was long before I could persuade myself to go. More 
than once or twice I went up to his gate and turned back, 
saying, I was going to make a fool of myself ; but at last 
I went in. And I thank God I did, for he seemed to know 
at once, when I told him I was anxious about my soul, 
what I was feeling and suffering ; he told me he had 
passed through just the same himself. He showed me, 
indeed, from God's word, far more of my own heart than 
I knew before — far more of its blackness and vileness and 
sinfulness ; but then he led me to the fountain open for 
sin and uncleanness: he pointed out Jesus the Lamb of 
God, which taketh away the sin of the world ; he prayed 
me to fix my weeping eyes, and lean my weary heart on 
Christ, and assured me that I should find peace and com- 
fort. And after a prayer which seemed to tell every 
desire of my heart, he begged me to come again as soon 
as I could. 

That was the beginning, John, of putting the plough 
into my heart : it was hard work at first ; the ground was 
dry and hard, but by God's grace the ranker weeds began to 
fall fast. I had not been what is commonly called a wild 
man. But 1 tell you, John, when once I got a little sight 
into my own heart, it was enough to frighten any one. 
It was the Bible showed it me. It was just like carrying 
a candle into a dark room full of dust. Then I thought of 
God's goodness in having made me, and having preserved 
me since I was a child, and kept me in health and strength ; 
and what was far more than all this, now that I had be- 
gun to see the horrible danger my sins had brought ma 
into, I saw his mercy in giving his Son to a cruel, shame- 
ful death, that my sins might be pardoned. Then when 
J turned to my own heart and past life, and saw that I 
had been neglecting, forgetting, grieving him, refusing 
his offers of mercy, vexing his Spirit, living as if there 
were no hell nor heaven ; and yet, fool that I was, had 



10 SOWING AND REAPING. 

been thinking myself better than others : I tell you, John, 
I almost despaired of ever getting either pardon or peace. 
I do not know what I should have done if the sermon 
next Sunday had not been on that text, " Behold the Lamb 
of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." 1 
thought again and again. Well, that must mean my sin. 
1 could not shut myself out from those words, " the sin of 
the world," though Satan tried hard to make me. So, 
afterwards, I went to the room where I lodged, shut the 
door, and prayed over and over again, "God, be merciful 
to me a sinner ; Lord, take away my sin ;" and the 
answer seemed sent from God to my soul, " Him that 
that Cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." From that 
time I began to feel the sweetness of pardon. From that 
time I began to love, and I hope to do a little for my 
newly-found Master. Often I know I have grieved him 
even since that, by my many sins ; still I stick to him, 
and he is the best of masters. I fear I have wearied you, 
John, with this long story, but a sailor loves to tell how 
he was saved from shipwreck. 

John. Not at all ; I would not have it one word 
shorter, for I would give much that I were like you 
But I have lived a ten times worse life than you did. 
If you were nearly lost, and found it so desperately hard 
to turn about, what hope is there for me ? 

Solomon. Every hope, John ; nay, a certainty, if you 
come. Can you shut yourself out, any more than myself, 
from those words, " the sin of the world ?" Or if that will 
not satisfy you, take this : " He is able to save to the 
uttermost them that come unto God by him." Do try, 
friend. H you wish, I wdll come, and we will pray 
together after your supper to-night. 

John. Thank you, thank you ; but my wife and chil- 
dren will stare. By the by, how did you bring your wife to 
your way of thinking? for I reckon she was not so before. 



SOWING AND REAPING. 11 

SoLOMOxX. John, that was the greatest mercy of all. 
You do not know half the tender love of our God before 
you try him. I prayed and prayed, and it pleased (xod 
to make poor miserable me the means of bringing her to 
Jesus. That was the happiest day in my life when she 
told me what was stirring in her heart. We were married 
six weeks after, and married "in the Lord." 

John. And a good harvest you will have, friend, I 
warrant you. I tell you what, neighbor, I am afraid I 
have been stone-blind all my life. I thought the main 
thing was to be happy and comfortable, and yet I never 
was really happy either ; something was always want- 
ing, I could not tell what. But now I begin to see life 
is a short journey, and heaven or hell at the end of it. 
1 have been sowing bad seed up to this time. God grant 
me time to sow good. I have had thoughts about leading 
a different life in years past, but I soon put them aside ; it 
shall not be so now. By God's help, I will begin to-day 

Solomon. That is right, friend; put it off^ till to-mor- 
row, and Satan wants no more. May God enable you to 
keep your purpose ; it must be God's work, not yours. 
You must pray, John — pray before night, pray all day as 
you work in the field. It is no slight work you are 
about — to save a soul that is worth more than all the 
world ; to forsake the broad way that leads to destruc- 
tion, and enter the narrow gate of life ; to change your 
eternal home from hell to heaven. It is a great work ; 
Satan cannot abide it : your friends at the " White Horse," 
I know, will try to beat it out of you ; and, worse than 
they, your own treacherous heart, as mine did, will say 
twenty .times, " Give it up — plenty of time yet." 

John. It is all very true, friend; how shaU I keep 
my resolution ? I feel as weak as water. 

Solomon. Believe m the Lord Jesus Christ, and the 
moment you come to him, determined to have him for 



12 SOWlx^JG AND REAPINa. 

your Saviour, he will see you, pity you, hear you, answei 
you, and help you. I have prayed for you, and will. 

John. Was that what kept you up last night ? 

Solomon. Well, my wife and I did pray for you for a 
long time ; for 

John. Did you now, really? To think of that! to 
2five up your sleep for me — a man who had laughed at 
you fifty times, and never did you a good turn ! 

Solomon. Did you not sit up seven or eight hours last 
winter when your master's horse was ill ? Shall I think 
it much to sit up two or three hours when a precious soul 
may be at stake, that must live for ever in glory or in 
misery ? Oh, believe me, we are all much too sleepy 
about souls, or we should not mention such things. 1 
will come to night, but I fear we shall not have any more 
walks together for two or three weeks to come ; for my 
employer wants me to go to-morrow and lodge at his son's 
farm for so long, and that you know is the best part of 
twelve miles off. But I can pray for you there, and will, 
please God. 

John. Do, neighbor, do. 



PART III. 

WEDNESDAY MORNING, THREE WEEKS LATER. 

Solomon. Good-morning to you, John. 

John. Good-morning, neighbor ; right glad I am to 
see you home again. I thought it long, I assure you, and 
quite looked forward to this morning ; and a very nice 
morning it is, after the rain : it seems, too, some way to 
speak what I feel ; for I do not know when I have been 
happier and brighter than now, and I may say for a 
week past. 

Solomon. I have often thought of our prayer togethei 



SOWING- AND KEAPING. 13 

that night before I left home. Did you not find it com- 
fortable '^ 

John. Yes, I did ; and when you began to answer 
my Mary's questions, and showed her that, little girl as 
she is, she had a bad, sinful heart, every word came home 
to me : for I thought if she, little dear, is a sinner in 
God's sight, why, 1 must be ten times worse, and twice 
that. You did not talk to her as I expected, but you were 
right ; for when you began to show her that bad and 
black as her heart was, Jesus' blood could wash it white, 
and Jesus' Spirit make it good, I saw you had got to 
the bottom of her trouble. And when you left, like a 
child as she is, you know, she took all you said upon trust, 
and knelt down and prayed some way like this : "0 Lord, 
I have a very sinful heart, and have never really loved 
thee, or tried to please thee ; but, Lord, I know too that 
Jesus Christ died for poor sinners just like me. Pardon 
my sins because he died, and give me thy Holy Spirit, 
that to-night and to-morrow, and ever after, I may love 
and serve thee as thy own child, for Jesus Christ's sake." 
She then said a word or two to herself, and rose up, and 
told me she felt easy in her mind. I said, " Why, Mary, 
how is this, so soon ?" She said, " Father, I remember 
a nice short text, ' Ask, and it shall be given you.' I 
never prayed before as I did just now. I asked with 
all my heart : I asked, father, so of course I shall have, 
for God never says what is not true, you know ; so he 
will pardon all my sins, and give me his Holy Spirit, 
and make me his child ; and this makes me feel so happy. 
Do you pray too, father, for I know he will hear you." 

My heart was full ; but I bid her be quiet and go to 
bed : and then I bethought myself, she has taken all like 
a child upon trust ; but let me consider, the words that 
neighbor had spoken were not his, but God's, that great 
(lod who made me, and who will be my judge. Sure 



14 SOWING AND REAPING. 

enough he always speaks truth, and he tells me, " Him 
that Cometh to me 1 will in no wise cast out." Why 
should I give him the lie ? My girl is not so simple as I 
took her for ; she is right, after all. So I knelt down by 
myself, the first time for many years, and prayed in some 
way like her, only much longer, for I had many more 
sins to think about than she. And when I prayed and 
thought over the text, " The blood of Jesus Christ his 
Son cleanseth us from all sin," it seemed as if a hundred 
pound weight had been taken off my heart : the more I 
prayed, the more comfort I had. At times the thought 
came, " You are mad, it is all in vaiii ;" but I answered, 
" I have God's word for it." And if I kept awake the 
night before for sorrow, I kept awake that night for joy. 
And here I am, neighbor, this morning, sober enough, 
only in a mighty fear lest I should lose the thoughts that 
filled my heart, and still fill it, with a hope and peace I 
never knew before. 

Solomon. Give me your hand, neighbor. God be 
thanked for what he has done for you, and give you 
grace to persevere. 

John. Ah, that is what I fear so much, for just now I 
would rather lose my head than give up ; but time and 
temptation have turned stronger hearts than mine ; pray 
for me. Now do you really think the ground has begun 
to be broken up 1 

Solomon. I trust so, John, I trust so. But as you would 
say, it is early day yet. There is a word that was very 
useful to me when I began, it often kept me humble and 
sent me to my knees. In the parable of the sower. Mat. 
13:5, 6, "some" seeds "fell upon stony places, where 
they had not much earth ; and forthwith they sprung up, 
because they had no deepness of earth : and when the 
sun was up, they were scorched, and because they had 
no root, they withered away." And Jesus explaining 



SOWING- AND REAPING. 15 

this, says, " But he that received the seed into stony 
places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon 
with joy receiveth it ; yet hath he not root in himself, 
but dureth for a while : for when tribulation or persecu- 
tion ariseth because of the word, by and by he is ofiended." 
Ver. 20, 21. 

John. You frighten me, neighbor; what shall I do? 

Solomon. Cleave to the Lord, neighbor, and be much 
in prayer. We are told, " The preparation of the heart 
in man, and the answer of the tongue, is from the Lord." 
Prov. IG : 1. Trust wholly in the Lord, and the Holy 
Spirit will soften your heart ; he will keep the good seed ; 
he will give it rain and sunshine, and thus faith in Christ 
will bring forth fruit for Christ. For you may remember 
how the Lord Jesus tells us there is no such thing as 
bearing fruit apart from him. "As the branch cannot 
bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine ; no more 
can ye, except ye abide in me." John 15 : 4. 

John. Well, neighbor, I believe God has given you 
words to speak my wants to-day. I see how it is, the 
Lord helps with his strength his poor weak children who 
believe in him. But 0, to think of his ever having put 
such thoughts into my poor sinful soul, to think of his 
softening my heart, putting good seed into it and nursing 
it; to think of my ever having a harvest in heaven. I 
wish much for the same blessing to my children. Oh, my 
children, if your father can beg this for you, and have you 
with him to reap that heavenly harvest, he would rather 
than that you should be the owners of all these fields, and 
fifty times more. 

Solomon. You must pray for them, and train them in 
the way they should go, carefully striving to " bring them 
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," and com- 
mit them in faith to him. Gcd knows what a parent's 
lieart is. You must set up family prayer too ; have the 



16 SOTVING AND REAPING. 

Bible read aloud, and pray together every day. This draws 
down family blessings. It is not enough to honor God 
in private, we must honor him in our families too. Per- 
haps you will meet with some trouble and vexation here, 
and 1 dare say tears may go with your prayers for your 
children ; but here is a blessed promise for you that has 
cften cheered me : " They that sow in tears shall reap in 
joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious 
seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing 
his sheaves with him." Psalm 126 : 5, 6. 

John. Rejoicing, indeed; if God bring my wife and 
children along with me, I shall be perfectly happy. 

Solomon. Very happy, John, but not -pcrfecthj, while 
you and they are in a world of sin and sorrow ; and when 
you see so many sowing the bad harvest, you will learn 
to mourn over them too, and strive for their salvation. 1 
know you like not only good grain, but plenty of it. Sow 
then plentifully beside all waters, as the Lord shall give 
you opportunities to benefit your fellow-men. 

John. I certainly am right glad you did not keep your 
seed to your own plot. Oh that God may keep me stead- 
fast, and then make me bold to speak to others. But 
what should I say ? 

Solomon. I do not recollect any thing better than the 
words God sent home to your heart: " Whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap." But I remember two 
others on the same subject ; one a warning in Job 4 : 8, 
" Even as I have seen, they that plough iniquity, and sow 
wickedness, reap the same;" the other a gracious invita- 
tion in Hosea 10:12, " Sow to yourselves in righteous- 
ness, reap in mercy ; break up your fallow ground : for 
it is time to seek the Lord, till he come and rain right- 
eousness upon you." 

John. Thank you, friend, thank you And may God 
ever bless you for your kindness to me 



Xo. SSt. 

"HINDER ME NOT." 



So said ALraham's servant to the family of Laban, as 
they were trying to persuade him to tarry longer with 
them; and so should you say to every one and to every 
thing which would hinder you from yielding your heart to 
Christ. You may meet with many hinderances, but they 
r.ll must be overcome by faith in Christ, with firmness and 
resolution. What are some of these hinderances ? 

The opposition of a wicked heart hinders. "The heart 
of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." Their 
sinful afibctions carry them away in a course of disobedi- 
ence, and if they go not after iniquity in one form, they 
v.ill in another. This, sinner, is your condition. You 
will not come to Christ. Your wicked heart keeps you away 
from him. You strengthen yourself against conviction ; 
and for this, if you do not repent and believe the gospel, 
God will judge and condemn you. 

The j^ersuasio?2S of impenitent friench hinder. They 
desire companions as unmoved and unconcerned as them- 
selves. Does one of them by any means become serious 
they ply him with every motive which can drive out the 
thoughts of God and a concern for his salvation. They 
soothe him with the deadly thought that he is in no 
danger, or the specious plea that there is time enough yet, 
that there is now no need of damping the joys of life by 
the gloomy subject of religion. Oh, how many are per- 
suaded in this manner to turn from the path of upright- 
ness, and to walk in the ways of darkness until their stepi: 
take hold on hell. 

AnLbition and lore cf earthly great ncsa hinder multi- 
tudes from submission to the Saviour. They cannot be 
content to be lightly esteemed ard neglected for the sake 
of Christ. They will not forego the distinctions of earth 
for the approbation of God and the crown of glory which 
fadeth not away. They barter their souls for the miser- 
able enjoyments of sinful pride, and in the end will lose 
both. "Whosoever v.'ill be the friend of the world is the 
enemy of Go'l." 

VOL. xiii. 11 



2 ''HINDER ME NOT." 

The cavils of itnhdievpri^ hold many in doubt and sus- 
pense all their lives. They liear so many objections 
airainst the truth of the gospel, that they do not decide in 
its favor; and yet such are the convictions of reason and 
conscience, that they dare not decide against it. The 
caviller is ever busy in pointing out some imaginary flaw 
in the evidences of Christianity, some fancied absurdity 
in its truths, or inconsistency in the lives of its professors. 
His own dark deluded mind raises fancied difTicuUles 
where there are none in reality, and seeing every thing 
through a mist, he imagines inconsistency where all is 
lio-ht and harmony and glory in the view of those who 
love God. Liive the serpent, the caviller strikes creJie is 
perceived in his true character, and the deadly poison is 
spreading through the unsuspecting soul, and sinking his 
victim in eternal ruin, before he is aware of his danger. 
Thousands are thus prevented from escaping for their life, 
and embracing the oflers of mercy. 

Others are hindered by tJie ridicule of the ojoenhj vi- 
cious. Ridicule is a weapon often hurled at the young and 
uniruarded. Oh, Avhat numbers are now lifting up their 
eyes in torment and wailing in hopeless despair, who, 
under the guidance of an evil heart, were brought to that 
world of woe by a banter or profane jest Avhich they had 
not the moral courage to withstand, nor the wisdom to 
despise. Remem.ber that ridicule is not argument ; it 
proves nothing ; it stabs in the dark. Shun him who 
would turn the realities of eternity into a jest, as you 
value your soul. 

Others are hindered from trusting in Christ by the 
cares and pleasures of the ivorld. Probably more souls are 
lost by yielding to the pressure of business, and the calls 
of vain pleasure and fashionable amusement, than by all 
other causes. Men of business, take heed lest, under the 
plea of being diligent in business, the soul be wholly given 
to this world and the "mammon of unrighteousness," and 
thus God be shut out, and the soul be lost. And ye fol- 
lowers of sinful pleasure, hear the declarations of God's 
word respecting such as you : " Lovers of pleasures moro 
than lovers of God." "Deceived, serving divers lusts and 
pleasures." "She that liveth in pleasure is dead whi.a 
she liveth." 2 Tim. 3:4; Titus 3 : 3 ; 1 Tim. 5 : 6. 



"HINDER ME NOT;' 3 

How then arc we to overcome these and all other 
hmderances to embracing Christ, and securing our salva- 
tion ? Say to them unhesitatingly, " Hinder me not." 

God commands your immediate repentance and sii/j- 
missio?i to Clirist. He says to you as to Lot, "Escape for 
thy life." "Repent, and turn yourselves from all your 
transgressions; so iniquity shall not be your ruin." "God 
now commandcth all men everywhere to repent." " Sub- 
mit yourselves therefore to God." In this urgent and for- 
cible manner the Lord of heaven and earth commands you 
to turn to him. He who has made you, and given his Son 
to die for you, who claims your obedience by the most ten- 
der and overpowering obligations, bids you forsake your 
sins and embrace the Saviour. 

Think of the numerous mercies and favors which God 
has bestowed upon you. How constantly has he preserved 
your lives from destruction. With what powers of mind 
has he endowed you, with which to love and serve him. 
What rich means of grace has he conferred upon you. 
How has hti opened the way for you to come to him for 
salvation through the blood of his Son. And how has he 
followed you with the pleadings of his Spirit and of his 
Avord, saying to every sinner, as he said by the prophet to 
Israel, " Repent, and turn yourselves from all your trans- 
gressions ; so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away 
from you all your transgressions, whereby ye have trans- 
gressed ; and make you a new heart and a new spirit: for 
why will ye die, house of Israel ? For I have no pleas- 
ure \n the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God : 
wherefore turn yourselves, and live ye." Ezek. 18 : 30-32. 
Resolve in the strength of the Lord, 

*• Through duty and through trials too, 
I '11 go at his command ; 
Hinder me not, for I am bound 
To Immanuel's blessed land.*' 

Consider the alarming providences of God. A once 
blooming young woman, of high hopes, who had often 
joined in worldly scenes of dissipation, but who at last 
felt the chilling hand of death upon her, said, " Oh, what 
shall I do ? I am not prepared to die. I have been such 
a sinner, there is no mercy lor me. Could I live to get 
well, I would make it my first business to obtain religion, 



4 '^HINDER ME NOT." 

to secure an interest in ( 'hrist; but I cannot attend to it 
now." These were her last words. In a lew minutes she 
expired. Hasten your return to (jod, if you would not be 
arrested in a similar manner, and die without hope. 

You have a great ivork to do. In matters of earthly 
business, men exert themselves according- to the greatness 
of the work they have in hand. Thus, the long distance 
of Abraham's servant from home made him the more 
anxious to return immediately. You have a great work- 
in hand; you are far from (xod, and far from that home 
which is eternal in the heavens. Turn then, lest it be for 
ever too late. Seek the Lord Jesus (Jhrist, believe in him, 
and begin a new life of loving obedience. If you grieve 
the Hofy Spirit, and he leave you to your native blindness 
and obstinacy, you will never see the face of God as the 
God of grace. Fear will soon come upon you as desola- 
tion, and destruction as a whirlwind. 

Let tke dijJicuUies of the icay excite you to break 
through all hinderances at once. Dangers lurk in your 
path. The snares of the adversary are spread beneath 
your feet; the world without, and evil propensities within, 
like so many enemies, lie in wait to destroy your soul. 
These difficulties are already formidable, and by delay 
will soon become insurmountable. Hasten to the Lamb 
of God without delay, or you will never enter the man- 
sions of the blessed. 

You are intrusted icith immortal interests, with the 
care of the undying spirit. If saved, who can number its 
joys while the vast periods of eternity are passing on ? 
If lost, who can count the billows of wrath which shall 
roll over it in that lake which burns with unquenchable 
fire? Will you not instantly throw yourself on the mercy 
of God in Jesus Christ, receiving and believing the prom- 
ise of God in him? You defer at your peril. You put to 
hazard your soul and your eternal interests, of more value 
than worlds and the universe. May the Holy Spirit lead 
you to come to the Lord Jesus Christ, whose blood cleans- 
eth from all sin. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Ko. SSft. 

THE OLD PLOUGHMAN; 

OR, 

A NEW WORLD. 



George Medway was born in a small cottage near a 
village in Shropshire, England. In this village there was 
no Sabbath-school for the instruction of the young, nor 
any benevolent society to afford relief to the sick and the 
aged ; and alas, the people were living quietly together in 
a state of spiritual death, 

" Without one cheerful beam of hope, 
Or spark of glimmering day." 

He was a ploughman, and lived there for upwards of 
seventy years. When a young man, he was noted among 
his fellows for his great strength, his fleetness in running, 
his skill in all the sports of the village, and equally noted 
for his profaneness and habits of intemperance. He 
married about the age of twenty-five, and had three 
children ; one died when an infant, another was a crip- 
ple, and the third when a youth went to reside at a 
manufacturing town, taking with him some of the worst 
principles and habits of his father. 

George Medway, though a very depraved man, and as 
ignorant of the religion of the Bible as though ho had 
been born in the wilds of Africa, was an honest servant, 
and labored on the same farm though under dilfcrent 
masters, from the time he was able to ring a bell to 
frighten the birds from the ripening corn, till hv. com- 
pleted his seventy-first year. His habits at home, in 
course of time, became very orderly; he went to and from 
his labor very punctually. On the Sabbath he spent the 
morning at home, and in the evening he constantly 
visited the " Hare and Hounds," to take his pipe and 
tankard of ale, often boasting that he had not missed one 
night for upwards of half a century. 



2 THE OLD PLOUaHMAK. 

At length havingburied his wife, and become too weak 
to follow the plough, and being unable to get lighter 
work, he took his crippled child to the union workhouse, 
and removed to spend the few remaining years of his 
life with his son, who kept a public-house. At first, 
having free use of the ale, he becam.e intemperate, till 
his son very prudently fixed the quantity, and even this 
less amount of beer greatly deadened the power of his 
mind, and he now became, to all appearance, very dull and 
stupid. Thus passing from the quiet of a village where 
he knew every face, to the hurry and bustle of a large town 
where he knew no one, he often wandered about alone, 
gazing around him seemingly with entire indifference. 

One day when thus wandering, he turned into a little 
pathway leading to a garden, and at the end of this path- 
way he saw a cottage, and at the door of the cottage stood 
its inmate, a very godly and zealous disciple of Christ, 
who seeing a stranger, and that stranger an old man like 
himself, invited him to walk in and take a seat. He did 
so ; and being now surrounded by shrubs and trees, 
which hid the great town from his view, he began talk- 
ing of country employments and the scenes of his early 
days. Mr. John Dean, the master of the cottage, gave 
full leave to the tongue of his visitor, supposing that 
when he had gone on a while, he would become quiet, 
and then an opportunity would occur to speak on other 
and more important subjects. As Mr. Dean expected, so 
it came to pass ; and he found the old man not only 
very ignorant of the facts and doctrines df the Bible, but 
apparently without the power of understanding them 
when presented in the simplest form, or even of listening 
with any degree of fixed attention to the statements and 
explanations which were given. The only remark he 
made was, after an account of the crucifixion of the Son 
of God, " Methinks it was too bad to serve him so; 
tliey wouldn't do so m Shropshire." 

As he was leaving the cottage, Mr. Dean said to him, 
* You had better come in some eveninjr, and then we can 



THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 3 

have a good long chat." This invitation was given be- 
cause he knew there was a power connected with the 
truth as it is in Jesus, which, by the help of the Holy 
Spirit, could open this contracted mind, and give feeling 
to this hard heart. He also knew that the Holy Spirit 
sometimes employs a feeble instrument in his work. 
" We must pray to the Lord for the poor old man," said Mr. 
Dean to his godly wife, after he had left, " and who can tell 
but our prayer may prevail, and we may see him a new 
creature in Christ Jesus ?" " The Lord grant it," she re- 
plied, " for it does seem as if nothing could change him. 
But the Lord Jesus Christ can subdue all things to himself." 

The next evening Medway came in his best coat, sat 
down and talked away at a great rate about the doings 
and events of his past life ; but after a while, having got 
through his scanty store of knowledge, he sat in silence, 
a dull and stupid listener, as it seemed, to all that was 
said to him about Jesus Christ and the great salvation. 
Many efforts were made by Mr. Dean and his wife to 
make him feel that he was a sinner who needed a 
Saviour ; but they seem not to have the least effect. 
Still, though depressed, they did not despair, as they 
knew that the divine Spirit who regenerates the soul can 
open and strengthen the dullest mind to understand the 
truth, and can enable the hardest heart to feel its powei* 
to purify and console. 

At parting, Mr. Dean said to him, " I wish you would 
come next Sunday morning and go with me," which he 
engaged to do, thinking it was to take a walk into the 
country. He was punctual at the hour ; and after resting 
a little, they took their staves and set off. As they were 
walking up the pathway leading from the cottage, Mr. 
Dean said in reply to a question, " I am not going into 
the country, but to a church, and I suppose you will have 
no objection to go with me." 

" Why, as for that I shan't tell what to do, for I never 
went to one but when I was married, near fifty years 
ajro." 



4 THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 

" You will have nothing to do but sit still and jnst 
hearken to what the minister says." 

" Part of that, methinks, is easy enough, as I shall soon 
be off to sleep, if I be to sit still and do nothing." 

As I had to administer the Lord's supper, I preached, 
us my custom was on such occasions, on the design of the 
death of Christ, and on the obligation of commemorating 
it. Now and then, during the sermon, my eyes turned 
towards the pew in which Medway was sitting, and I 
was more than once strack with the singularity of his 
ittitude and appearance. He sat almost motionless, with 
his hands hold of the little book-shelf in the inside front 
of the pew, and his mouth open, gazing at me with a fixed 
and intent look. "When this part of the service was over, 
many of the congregation withdrew, leaving the com 
municants to engage in the solemn act of commemorating 
the death of the Son of God for sinful men. On coming 
from the pulpit, I saw a slight confusion in the pew in 
which Medway was sitting, which somewhat startled me, 
as I did not know the cause of it ; but I found afterwards 
that it w,as caused by his positively refusing to go away with 
those who were leaving. His first remark rather astonished 
his friend Mr. Dean, especially as he uttered it in a very 
firm and rather loud tons, " / «w in a neiv tvorld ; and 
I shan't go till you go ; and I shall do as you do." "What 
to do Mr. Dean did not know, as he was unwilling to let 
him remain, and equally unwilling to force him away ; 
but at length he resolved to leave him to act for himself. 

Medway now resumed his seat, and sat quietly. His 
countenance seemed to become more intelligent and his 
features less stern and stupid ; there was even an ap- 
pearance of feeling in them, and his eye seemed moist- 
ened. He took the bread, and took the wine also ; and when 
the plate was handed to the pew, for the ofTerings of the 
church in behalf of its poor members, without any hint 
from his friend he put in his penny — all that he had — ■ 
along with the other contributors. On going away, he 
walked some distance without speaking. At length he 



THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 5 

broke silence by repeating his first startling utterance, " I 
be in a new world ; yes, I be in a new world." This ho 
repeated again and again as they passed along to their 
home, apparently insensible to every question or remark 
which his friend uttered. 

On entering his son's house he excited no small degree 
of alarm, by saying to his son and some of the neighbors 
who were sitting in the tap-room, " I have been and 
heard a man who has taken me into a new world ; you 
must all go with me and Mr. Dean to-night. It is a 
wonderful world." He called on his friend Dean in the 
early part of the afternoon, and took tea with him, and 
then went with him to the evening service. The text 
was from Luke 15:2: " This man receiveth sinners, and 
eateth with them." I saw him as I read the text, and 
his eye told the tale of what was passing within. The 
words arrested his attention, and he continued to listen 
with evident feeling to all that was said, and particularly 
to some remarks to the following effect : 

" Jesus Christ is able and willing to save the chief of 
sinners, such as have gone even to the greatest length of 
wickedness. In proof of the truth of this, look at the 
facts of this history, which will tell what he has done. 
There is Zaccheus, who grew rich by oppression and 
extortion; there is the dying thief; there are the sinners 
of Jerusalem who imbrued their hands in the blood of 
Christ, and who mocked and insulted him when in the 
agonies of death ; there is Saul of Tarsus, the chief per- 
secutor of his age ; and there are some of the citizens 
of Corinth, who were guilty of the most shocking crimes. 
Perhaps there were not any greater sinners on the face 
of the earth, yet they were forgiven and renewed and 
sanctified and saved. And Jesus Christ is the same 
now as when he saved these men from their iniquity and 
from eternal woe : the same in power, and the same in 
compassion and in his disposition towards fallen man. 
And are not some present living witnesses of the truth of 
this assertion ? Have you not gone with the multitude 

11* 



6 THE OLD PLOUaHMAN. 

doing evil, surpassing many in the numbei and greatness 
of your sins ? Do you not even now tremble when you 
look back on tne precipice on which you once stood care- 
less and indifferent ? Can you retrace your history with- 
out being stung with remorse and overpowered with 
shame and contrition ? Is any language too strong to 
describe your guilt and your depravity ? "Will you not 
own that you have been the chief of sinners ; and yet 
through the exceeding riches of divine grace yon have 
been saved even as others ?" 

Having expressed an earnest desire to speak to me, 
Medway came to me one evening, preceded by his friend 
Dean. I at once recognized him, and rose, offering him 
my hand. For a few moments there was obvious em- 
barrassment, which I endeavored to relieve, but still he 
was embarrassed ; he looked on me with great benignity 
of expression, and his eyes showed the deep feeling of 
his soul at this crisis in his history ; but he remained 
silent, the power of utterance w^as suspended. I spoke 
so as to encourage him, adverting to the scenes of his early 
life which I had heard of before, and he very soon re- 
covered himself, and said, in a firm tone, " I am now, 
sir, in a new world. I '11 tell you what I mean. I know 
I am in the old world ; but what you said on Sunday has 
put my heart into a new world, and my heart sees won- 
derful things." 

I knew his meaning, and answered him in the same 
form of expression which he had used. 

" And what have you seen in this new world ?" 

" I see I am a great sinner. .1 have lived near seventy 
years, and have been all along sinning against God, and 
didn't know it till Sunday." 

" What sins have you committed ?'^ 

" A power of sins. I 've been a great sinner. Why, 
Eir, I didn't love God nor fear him. I didn't know any 
thing about him till Sunday morning." 

" What else have you seen in the new world ?" 

" I have seen .lojsns Christ. 0, how kind to rome 



TliE OLD PLOUaHiMAN. 7 

down from heaven and die for us. This is new to me — 
It is wonderful I" 

" What made you stay and take the bread and the 
wine on Sunday morning ?" 

" Why, sir, you said all f^hould do it who loved Jesus 
Christ. I felt I loved him. Y^es, my heart told me so. 
It has been telling me so ever since. It tells me so now. 
I can't speak his name but I feel I love him. I can't 
think about any thing else very well. If I think of any 
thing else my heart gets dull and cold ; but when I think 
about Jesus Christ it gets young again." 

" But why do you love Jesus Christ ?" 

" Because he came down from heaven and died on the 
cross. I don't know how to make out very well what I 
mean ; but I think Jesus will save me. This makes me 
love him. I feel a great change here," putting his hand 
on his heart. *' I can't tell it, but it is something real." 

" Are you quite sure that you feel your heart really 
changed ?" 

" Why, if there be no change in my heart, where do 
my fresh thoughts and feelings come from ? I never had 
such till Sunday morning. I don't know much now ; but 
I wouldn't be again such a poor old ignorant sinner as I 
was before Sunday morning for all the lands and houses 
in our village." 

" I hope your change is real, and that it will prove a 
lasting change." 

*' I hope so : I should cry a power of tears if I thought 
I should be changed back again. The Lord save me from 
that." 

" Then you must thank him for making this great 
change in you, and pray to him to make the change a 
lasting one." 

"I do; I'm sure I do. I cried hundreds of tears last 
night when I was in bed, and they be such tears as I never 
cried before : tears of heart-sorrow, and heart-gladness.*' 

"You hope to be saved V 

'* I do, and am most thankful for it." 



t THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 

"But how do you expect to be saved?'' 

" Why, just how you told on Sunday morning. By 
Chi*ist, and by nothing else. I should not like another 
J^aviour, because he was so good as to die for us. How 
wonderful I I never heard any thing like it before. I 
wish I had heard that blessed sermon fifty years ago." 

I was much pleased with the artless and guileless 
simplicity of the old man, who, though unable fully to 
describe in language the great change through which he 
had evidently passed — from a state of spiritual death to 
newness of life — said enough to satisfy me that he was 
become a new creature in Christ Jesus. 

Such was his attachment to public worship, that he 
allowed neither the heat of summer nor the frost or 
snow^s of winter to prevent his regular and punctual at- 
tendance. But it was when singing the praises of the 
Lord that he was most powerfully excited, having a nat- 
ural love for music, and a strong melodious voice, not 
much injured by age. No language can do justice to his 
appearance when thus engaged, especially on one occasion 
when the congregation were singing the following verse 
of a favorite hymn : 

"Lo, the incarnate God ascended, 
Pleads the merit of his blood j 
Venture on him, venture wholly, 
Let no other trust intrude ; 

None but Jesus 
Can do helj'less sinners good." 

He stood erect, with his hands resting on the pew, and 

his eyes closed, yet allowing the tears to steal silently 

out and trickle quietly down his deep-furrowed cheek; 

and when the last stanza of the verse, 

"None but Jesus 
Can do helpless sinners good," 

was repeated in full chorus, he caught the inspiration of 
the blessed fact, his countenance showing by its expression 
his deep feeling as he raised and joined his loud notes 
with those of the congregation. 

I was prevented from having any conversation with 



THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 9 

him for many months ; when, feeling anxious to learn 
what progress he had made in knowledge and in grace, 1 
met him by appointment at Mr. Dean's cottage. He was 
still the same man as when I first saw him, but he looked, 
I might almost say, younger ; his voice Avas firmer, his 
eyes brighter, and he was now able to converse with an 
ease which surprised me. 

I said to him, "I suppose you would not like to go 
back to your native village and live as you used to do ?" 

"Why, sir, methinks no happy spirit Avould like to 
come out of heaven to live on earth again." 

"Do you often think how you used to live ?" 

"I think of it with sadness and horror. But I knew 
no better then. What a mercy that I was not taken for 
death when my poor wife died !" 

"What thoughts had you of God ?" 

" I did'nt think about him much ; but when 1 did, I 
thought he was a great mighty Being, who cared nothing 
at all about what we said or did." 

"Had you any idea of your soul, or its living for 
ever?" 

"Why, sir, I was always puzzled about it. Some- 
times I thought that very Avicked people went to hell 
when they died, especially the rich." 

" Had you never any fears about going to hell ?" 

"No, never. My common thoughts were, that when 
I died there would be an end of me ; just the same as 
wdth the sheep or the horse." 

"You believe th'ere is a change in you now, and one 
for the better ?" 

"Oh yes, the Lord be praised. I knew there was a 
change in me when I spoke to you after I heard that 
blessed sermon ; but I know it better now. I now find it 
lasts with me ; but then I feared it wouldn't. If I had 
known fifty years ago Avhat I knoAV now, it Avould have 
been a good thing for me. I should have been all that 
long time a jjower happier in my soul. I wish my pooT 
wife had lived to see this day." 



10 THE OLD PLOUaHMAN. 

"To whom do you ascribe the great change that has 
been produced in you ?" 

"Yes, it is a great change, like changing a flint stone 
into bread, or a bog into a garden. The Bible calls it, 
being called out of darkness into marvellous light. This 
is a true account of it. Darkness, I take, means ignorance ; 
and light, I take, means knowledge. I have come from 
one to the other, and nobody can make me think other- 
wise. Why, if a blind man sees the sun, he must know 
that his eyes be opened." 

"Very true; but who produced the change which you 
say you have felt ?" 

"At first I thought it was you, because I felt it when 
you were preaching. But now I know better. Now I 
know that it is the Lord that gives light to the under- 
standing, and love in the heart. And, praised be his 
name, I can now say what Paul said, 'By the grace of 
God, I am what I am.'" 

" You have felt a great change, but do you feel per- 
fect ? or do you feel that your heart is still wicked V 

"0, sir, there is, a power of sin in my heart. The 
fallow-ground is ploughed up, but it is not cleared yet. 
And this puzzles me. I pray the Lord to make me holy, 
but he hasn't done it yet. But I had great comfort when 
Mr. Dean read to me the seventh chapter of the Romans. 
I thought when he was reading, that the writer of that 
chapter felt that he had a wicked heart, as I often feel 
that I have one." 

"I suppose you believe that He who has begun the 
good work in you will carry it on, and bring it to per- 
fection ?" 

"Yes, if you mind, sir, you proved that, when you 
preached a sermon t'other Sabbath from the gladsome 
words of Paul. I have remembered them ever since. 
'Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath 
begun a good work in you will perform it until the day 
of Jesus Christ.' Phil. 1:6." 

" Do you recollect any thing which T said to show that 



THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 11 

we ought to expect that the Author of the good work of 
grace will complete it?" 

"Yes, sir; you said that a wise builder, when he has 
put in the foundation, and carried up the house a story or 
two, will not leave off", and let it tumble to ruins, when 
he wants to use it. No ; he '11 go on till he has finished 
it. And so I hope the Lord will finish the good work he 
has begun in my soul. It is wonderful. I sometimes 
think about it till I get puzzled how God can be so good 
to such a sinner. But my heart gets warm to him, and 
then all is right again." 

" I suppose you sometimes long to have the good work 
brought to perfection ?" 

"Now, sir, on this point I 'm a bit disappointed. I 
thought at first, when I felt the change, that I should 
fcoon get free from sin. But now I find, from the Bible, 
and from Mr. Dean's talking to me, that I sha'n't get quite 
free from sin till I get to a better world. The sermon 
you preached last Sunday morning brought a power of 
comfort to my soul ; I put the text on my heart, and don't 
think it will e'er get off: 'We shall be like him ; for we 
shall see him as he is.' How wonderful I To see Jesus 
Christ in his glory, and to be like him I I should like 
that hour to come." 

I was much gratified with this interview, and at find- 
ing how rapid a progress he had made in learning to read. 
At the age of seventy-two he could not tell a letter, but 
now he could make out, with a little help, several chap- 
ters in John's gospel, and some other parts of the Bible. 
The 23d and 103d Psalms greatly delighted him. In 
addition to the regular time he devoted to his studies, 
every Monday morning he went to the cottage, and got 
his friend Mr. Dean to help him read the texts of the 
preceding Sabbath ; and he learned several by heart, and 
was soon able to repeat many verses, and relate the lead- 
ing particulars of some of the more striking and interest- 
ing narratives of the Bible. 

He came to me one evening, and said, "I can't, sir, do 



12 THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. 

much to serve Jesus Christ and his cause, as I'm old and 
poor ; but I should like to do what 1 can, as the woman 
did you told us about on Sunday. I'm thinking I could 
get rid of some tracts among the boatmen that come to 
my son's tap-room. And perhaps the Lord may bless the 
reading of them to the conversion of some poor sinner, as 
old, and as ignorant as 1 was once. If he should, I shall 
have a power of heart-gladness." 

Some tracts were given to him. In addition to his la- 
bor of distributing them, he became a visitor of the sick , 
and, from the devotion of his spirit, and the humble sim- 
plicity of his manners, he was always welcome in the 
chamber of affliction and death. On one occasion, when 
calling to see a person who wa? dangerously ill, I found 
the old ploughman was with him, and stepping up the 
stairs very cautiously, I had the satisfaction of hearing 
him in prayer. I could not catch every sentence of his 
prayer, but I heard the following confessions and pe- 
titions : 

" Lord, by nature we be poor, and wicked, and ig- 
norant sinners. Lord, we don't know ourselves. We 
don't know thee. We don't know Jesus Christ. 

" Lord, we were once under a sentence of death, but 
we didn't know it. Pardon all our wickedness, and all 
our sins, for Christ's sake. 

" blessed Jesus, we thank thee for living for us. 
We thank thee for dying for us. We thank thee for liv- 
ing again for us. We come to thee for rest of soul .; and 
we come to thee for eternal life. 

" blessed Jesus, look upon our dying brother. Com- 
fort his heart. Keep away the great enemy. Come and 
meet him on his way to thy kingdom. May he soon see 
thee, and be like thee. 

"0 Lord, save me, a poor old sinner, who lived foi 
threescore years and ten, and didn't love thee nor pray tr 
thee. Make me fit for thy kingdom, and take me there 
when I go out of this world of sin and sorrow. 

"0 blessed Jesus, wo bless thee for going to get a 



THE OLD PLOUaHMAN. 13 

place ready for us, that Ave may have a good home when 
we are taken out of this world of sin and sorrow." 

After pursuing the noiseless tenor of his way for about 
the space of five years, growing in knowledge and in 
grace, and walking in the great and good and lovely 
principles of the Christian faith, and highly esteemed by 
those Christians Avho knew him, his natural strength be- 
gan to decline, and other symptoms indicated the approach 
of his latter end. I visited him during his confinement, 
and was much pleased by finding him patient and re- 
signed, looking forward, with subdued eagerness, to his 
entrance into the kingdom of heaven. 

I once asked him, "Are you suHering much ?" 

"Yes, sir, my sufferings be great, but not so great as 
the sufTerings which my dear Saviour bore for me. When 
he was suffering for me he was forsaken, but the Lord 
does not forsake me. He was on a cross, but I be on a 
good bed. He was mocked when dying by the wicked, 
but all speak kindly to me."^ 

" You are not afraid to die ?" 

"Why should I be ? I got upon my heart yesterday 
tiiis blessed verse, ' Because I live, ye shall live also.' Oh, 
I long to see my dear Saviour, and be like him, and with 
him for ever." 

"Then you have no doubt of going to him ?" 

"Why should I, when Jesus Christ says, 'Him that 
Cometh to me I will in no wise cast out ?' " 

" Then you consider his kingdom as your future home ?" 

"Yes, sir, I do, and I believe my dear Saviour is 
waiting to receive me. This comforts my heart." 

He was confined to his room during the whole of the 
winter. In the spring he rallied, and recovered his usual 
flow of spirits ; and as the summer advanced, he again 
attended public worship, which he called "the gate oj 
heaven to his soul." The last time I saw him was when 
administering the Lord's supper ; his countenance showed 
that he felt much, and after taking the cup his tears 
could be seen. My eye followed him as he walked down 



14 THE OLD PLUUGHMAI?. 

the aisle with his friend Dean ; and had I then known 
that I should see his face no more, I would have stepped 
after him, and bid him farewell : I would have oflered 
him my congratulations on his coming joy. In the course 
of the following week, I abruptly heard of his death, which 
deeply affected me. On inquiry, I found he died suddenly 
and alone, being found dead by his relatives when they 
arose in the morning. 

" I didn't suppose," said his friend Dean, " that he 
would leave us so suddenly, though we have thought 
lately that he would not stay with us much longer, his 
common conversation was so much about Christ and heav- 
enly things. When looking on a field of wheat we had 
both seen the week before, he said, in allusion to a re- 
mark he heard from the pulpit on the preceding Sabbath, 
' If we did but get ripe for heaven as fast as this bit of 
wheat has ripened for the reapers since a week ago, we 
should very soon be meet for the inheritance of the saints 
in light.' Having got on this subject, which for some 
weeks he had been fond of speaking about, he exclaimed, 
with quite an animated voice and look, ' Oh what a won- 
derful world heaven must be ; how I long to get there ; 
how I long to see my blessed Saviour, and be like him I 
how I long to bow down on my knees to worship him ; 
how I long to sing his praises ! What grand music there ; 
what a power of voices to sing his honor and glory ; and 
they will sing for ever ! Oh, if I had never left the 
country to live here, I should have known nothing about 
these grand and glorious things. W^hat a mercy I the 
Lord be praised I' " 

" His conversation, sir," said Mrs. Dean as I was rising 
(o leave the cottage, "certainly showed the power of the 
Lord Jesus over a stupid mind and a stubborn heart, and 
the exceeding riches of his grace in the salvation of the 
chief of sinners. A joyous day it was, sir, for the angels, 
when he heard the first sermon." 

With what rapidity did George Medway pass through 
a series of wonderful changes within the space of a few 



THE OLD PLOUGHMAN. l5 

years ! At the age of seventy -two he had never looked 
into a Bible, knew not a letter of the alphabet, and was 
apparently ignorant of the facts of the Christian rev- 
elation. Consenting to be led to a place of worship 
with no other expectation than merely to enjoy a nap, 
yet when there, his attention ie riveted to the words of 
the preacher, he hears the truth and understands it, feels 
I renovating power, and shortly comes forth before the 
eye of the world a new creature in Christ Jesus. In his 
case there was no long training, no long continued efibrts 
to enlighten his dark mind ; his spirit was made free, and 
at once he saw the Saviour and believed in him, as 
clearly as though he had long been taught and felt his 
obligation to obey the laws of Jesus Christ. This did not 
turn out to be a daydream, a passing fancy, but a positive 
reality, leading to great improvement of mind, and a life 
practically devoted to the service of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

The sceptic, Avho has never fairly examined the Chris- 
tian religion, may look on such a fact as this with in- 
dillerence, and imagine that it was the power of enthu 
siastic fanaticism; but no wise man will feel satisfied till 
he has found something like a sufficient cause of its 
existence. To suppose that the old man himself eflected 
the great change which took place in his mind and in his 
character, would be absurd. And it would be equally 
absurd to refer it to the mere agency which was employed 
in its production, because there were wanting both the 
intellectual capacity and moral sensibility for that agency 
to act on. To what other cause can it be referable, but 
to the intervention of a divine power, rendering the 
preaching of the gospel eflectual to the recovery of the 
fallen spirit of this old man from the dominion of ignor- 
ance and of sin, and to his final salvation ? 

It is in reference to such a case as this that Foster 
says, "We cannot close this subject without adverting 
to a phenomenon as admirable as, unhappily, it is rare, 
and for which the observers may, if they choose, go round 
the whole oirclo of thoir philosophy, and begin again, to 



16' THE OLD PLOUOHMAN. 

find any adequate cause other than the most immediate 
agency of the almighty Spirit. Here and there an in- 
stance occurs, to the delight of the Christian philanthropist, 
of a person brought up in utter ignorance and barbarian 
rudeness, and so continuing till late, sometimes very late 
in life ; and then at last, after such a length of time and 
habit has completed its petrifying eflect, suddenly seized 
upon by a mysterious power, and taken with an irresisti- 
ble force out of the dark hold in which the spirit has lain im- 
prisoned and torpid, into the sphere of thought and feeling. 

" Occasion is taken of adverting to such facts, not so 
much for the purpose of magnifying the nature, as simply 
exhibiting the effect, of an influence that can breathe with 
such power on the obtuse intellectual faculties, which it 
appears, in the most signal of these instances, almost to 
create anew. AVe have known instances in which the 
change, the intellectual change, has been so conspicuous 
within a brief space of time, that even an infidel observer 
must have forfeited all claim to be esteemed a man of 
sense, if he would not acknowledge, ' This that you call 
divine grace, whatever it may really be, is the strangest 
awakener of the faculties, after all.' And, to a devout 
man, it is a spectacle of most enchanting beauty, thus to 
see the immortal plant, which has been under a malignant 
blast while sixty or seventy years have passed over it. 
coming out at length in the bloom of life." 

Should any unhappy sinner, weary and heavy-laden 
with the burden of his guilt, read this story of George 
Medway, may the desire be given him to seek mercy, and 
may he too enter that neio ivorlcl in which alone is life 
and peace — the knowledge of himself as a lost sinner, 
and the knowledge and love of Christ as his Saviour, full 
of power and of love. And may he be brought to feei 
and pray as Medway did, "0 blessed Jesus, I thank 

THEE FOR LIVING FOR, ME. I THANK THEE FOR DYING FOR 
ME. I THANK THEE FOR LIVING AGAIN FOR ME I COME 
lO THEE FOR REST OF SOUL, FOR PARDON OF SIN. I COMIi 
TO THEE FOR ETFRNAL LIFE." 



IVo. 553, 

THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT. 

• BY THE REY. C. MALAN. 



1 was travelling towards Bordeaux, and had just set 
of]' from Angoulcme, when a handsome, showy-looking 
young man accosted me politely: "I think, sir, you come 
from Paris." "I left Paris the day before yesterday," I 
answered. "And I suppose," he added eagerly, "you 
have seen the 'Huguenots'" — a theatrical perlbrmance at 
that time, 1839, very famous at Paris — "it is a remark- 
ably original composition; every one goes to see it; were 
you not delighted with it?" "The Huguenots," I replied, 
taking my New Testament from the pocket of the coach; 
" 1 have their treasure with me here." 

"The treasure of the Huguenots,'* said the young man 
with surprise ; "and pray what is tliat?" "I oli'ered the 
sacred volume to him. He read the title and returned it 
immediately, saying, with scorn, "Ah, I think that book 
only fit for old women and weak minds." 

"I know, sir," I answered seriously, "that it is very 
good for me, though I am certainly not an old woman. 
As to a weak mind, I will not decide upon that." 

" I beg your pardon, sir, for my foolish expression ; but 
allow me to say, that I cannot understand how a man of 
sense and education can approve, and above all, can be- 
lieve such a production. Yoltaire at least did not, and 
certainly he was not wanting -in discernment, or know- 
ledge, or good sense." Here the pupil of such a teach- 
er repeated, with equal fluency and sharpness, the invec- 
tives of the philosopher against the Galilean and his doc- 
trine. The incarnation of the Word, the miracles, the 
prophecies, the death, and above all, the resurrection of 
the reputed son of Joseph, were passed in review, and 
the conclusion of the whole argument was a song of tri- 
umph as to the reason and wisdom of the present age. 
The young unbeliever was delighted ; he thought me re- 
duced to silence and overcome, for I listened to tha whole 
without saying a word. 



2 THE S^YORD OF THE SPIRIT. 

When he had ended, I own I was tempted to oppose 
sword to sword, and to answer the follower oi" Voltaire 
by arguments, as I thought, of better reasoning than his 
own. ' But I was impressed by these words of holy writ, 
" The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty 
through God to the pulling down of strong-holds," 2 Cor. 
10:4; and leaving in its sheath the feeble weapon of 
my own reason, I seized the sword of the Spirit, and 
answered only in these words: "If our gospel be hid, it 
is hid to them that are lost ; in whom the god of this 
world hath blinded the minds oi" them which believe not, 
lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the 
image of God, should shine unto them." 2 Cor. 4 : 3, 4. 

" Yes, yes," replied the youth, " so says that book ; but 
on Avhat authority does it speak ? that is the question." 

" If any man will do his will," I continued, still read- 
inij, "he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, 
or whether I speak of myself" John 7:17. 

"That is to say," he answered, "that all the learned 
scholars and philosophers ; in short, all men of sense and 
judgment, in civilized society — all these superior men arc 
wicked and impious, and even atheists or scoundrels, 
because they refuse to believe the mysteries, not to say 
the absurdities, of an obscure book." 

"That your faith," namely, of the Christian, 1 replied, 
still reading, " should not stand in the wisdom of men, 
but in the power of God." 1 Cor. 2 : 5. "But God hath 
chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ; 
and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to con- 
found the mighty." 1 Cor. 1 : 27. "He that believeth not 
is condemned already, because he hath not believed in 
the name of the only begotten Son of God." John 3 : 18. 
"He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life : and 
he that believeth not the Son shall not see life ; but the 
wrath of God abideth on him." John 3 : 36. 

"Very well, sir; my lot, you think, is settled; and 
hell, with everlasting flames, is prepared for me, and for 
the flower of the whole human race. I thank you for 
your charity." 

"Sir," 1 answered calmly, "it was not I, but God 
himself, who said by his apostle, that 'there is none other 
uame under heiveu given among men, whereby we must 



THE 3W0P.D OF THE SPIRIT. 3 

be saved,' but that of Jesus. Acts 4:12. Jesus also 
says to you, as well as to every other sinner, 'That who- 
soever believeth in him should not perish, but have eter- 
nal life.' John 3: 15. You hear these words; they are 
full of love and mercy." 

The youth was silent, and knit his brow. His coun- 
tenance was gloomy, and for a long while he remained 
still. Night came on. My neighbor was still dumb, and 
I thought his ill-humor would last until he fell asleep, 
when suddenly turning towards me he said, with much 
appearance of feeling, " Where, sir, can I obtain the book 
you have there ? for I must tell you, I begin to think that 
perhaps I may be wrong, and that you are in the right 
path. I am even concerned, sir, for the thoughtless words 

that" I interrupted him. "Pray, sir, do not think 

of an apology ; but as you seem already to feel that the 
word of God is superior to that of a philosopher, do not 
let us part without your having this book, which you will 
allow me to offer to you when we reach Bordeaux." 

From that happy moment our conversation was easy 
and unrestrained ; and it was not till after we had spoken 
of all the vital doctrines of Christianity, that we both 
yielded to slumber. 

The next day my young companion was calm, cordial, 
and perfectly open ; and when I left him he took my hauci*, 
saying, " Do you remember the promise that you kindly 
made me ? There is my address." "In a few moments," 
I answered, "the most precious of books shall be in your 
hands;" and I hastened to the house of a friend, a Chris- 
tian brother, to whom I related the above-mentioned facts, 
and who immediately went to the house of the young 
traveller, to whom he gave the book of God, accompanying 
it with Avords of peace. He also informed him that, on 
the same day, and other days following, 1 should explain 
some portions of the holy Scriptures, at meetings to which 
he would be welcome. 

This invitation was not given in vain. The same 
evening the young man, with his book under his arm, 
came to take his place among the serious hearers whom 
the gospel drew together. 

The next dr.y he returned again at the same hour, and 
after service s:ame up to me and said, with earncstucr-S; 



4 THE S^YORD OF THE SPIHIT. 

" Sir, you never can know all the good which this book 
has already done me, and all the pleasure I have felt in 
hearing you, both yesterday and to-day. Henceforth this 
book shall be my study — my sole study." 

"And what will you do to-morrow?" I asked him. 
"It is the king's birthday ; there will be a great ball, and 
much bustle, and no doubt you will be invited." "I have 
refused," answered the young man with firmness. " I shall 
not be there. In the morning I shall go and hear you, as 
you preach in public ; and in the evening, if it please God, 
1 shall come and hear you again." 

He came ; and, for the first time, this fashionable 
young man, who had hitherto made plays and balls his 
chief pleasure, considered it his highest privilege to wor- 
ship God in his temple, and in the- evening to join some 
disciples of that Saviour whom he had once learned to 
scorn. 

On the same evening I took leave of this yoiithfal 
seeker after the truth. He again expressed his gratitude 
aud earnest desire for the accomplishment of the prayers 
I oHered for him, and he declared, bei'ore many witnesses, 
that he believed the Bible, that he worshipped the Lord 
Jesus, and desired to live and die a Christian. 

Here may be seen how the word alone resisted the 
attacks of an infidel, and subdued, at the feet of Jesus- 
the follower of vanity, even one who had long scofied at 
the Son of God, and his gracious offers. Let this word, 
then, be in your mouth, when you attempt to answer the 
wisdom of this world, or the treacherous arguoicuts of 
infidels, for this only can reduce them to silence. 

If you are not a believer, but are resting on your own 
reason, and the Bible is in your eyes only a book lor nar- 
row and weak minds, learn that this very word will judge 
you at the last day ; and it were better for your soul that 
you had never been born, than that, despising Him who 
speaks to you from heaven, you count as an unholy thing 
the blood of Jesus shed upon the cross, which alone can 
cleanse you from all sin. 



rUKLlSIIED IJY THE AMEUJCAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. •154. 



ANOTHER DEBT; 



JESUS THE SINNER'S SURETY 



A POOR man being unable to pay a small sum of mon- 
?y, was put in prison. A kind Christian who knew him, 
hearing of his distress, went to see him. After asking the 
cause of his debt, and finding that he had not contracted 
it through bad conduct, he placed the money in his hand, 
saying, " I pay your debt because I hear you are an hon- 
est, steady man, with a family to support." 

The poor man seemed very thankful, and the gentle- 
man was about to take his leave, but he paused and said, 
"John, I have paid this debt for you, but I fear that you 
owe another and a far greater debt." 

The poor man, somewhat alarmed, replied, "Whoever 
has told you that, sir, has told an untruth. I do not owe 
another penny. My wife and I pay for ail we buy, as 
soon as we get it; and I never should have owed this 
money if my poor wife and children had not fallen ill." 

" I have no doubt of it, John ; I believe you do not 
owe another person a penny ; and yet you are in debt to 
God, who made you and preserves you, and whom you 
are bound to love and serve. Have you read your Bible ?" 

" Yes, sir, when I was young, my mother often made 
me read to her, and there was a good minister who used 
o visit us and talk to us ; but I must own that since I 
have had a family to work for, I have not looked much 
into my Bible." 

" Having a family to work for is a poor excuse for 
neglecting your soul, John, and will not serve you at the 
day of judgment. If you had read your Bible more, you 

VOL. XTII. 12 



2 ANOTHER DEBT. 

would have known in what way you are bound to serve 
God. I will read you two verses from the Bible, which 
set forth this duty. 'What doth the Lord thy God re- 
quire of theC; but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all 
his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God 
with all thy heart and with all thy soul?' Deut. 10 : 12. 
' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with al) 
thy mind.' Luke 10:27." 

" The first of these verses seems very plain, sir, but 
the last speaks nothing about serving, only about loving." 

" True, but I will read you a verse which will explain 
that: 'Love is the fulfilling of the law.' Rom. 13 : 10. 
When ' the love of God is shed abroad in the heart,' that 
principle of love will lead us to fulfil the law, for whom 
we love, we delight to serve ; in other words, he who 
loves God, fulfils his law. Let me ask this plain ques- 
tion, Have you, all your life long, served God in the per- 
fect manner that his holy law requires ? Have you loved 
him and served him in thought, word, and deed ? Have 
you given to him, as your Master, that service which he 
has a right to expect ?" 

" I should be only telling you a lie, sir, if I said yes, 
for though, when my poor mother used to talk to me — and 
many 's the time, with tears in her eyes — I used to wish 
to serve God, mostly, I believe, to please her; yet I am 
quite sure I have never served him for one single hour in 
the right good way you now talk of." 

" You have lived at least forty years in the world, and 
by your own confession you have never served God aright 
for one single hour. Is it not true then, that you owe an 
immense debt of service to God ; and that every moment 
you live adds to your debt 1 for every moment you live with 
out perfectly loving God, your debt is increasing upon you." 

John looked at the gentleman in astonishment, and 
Raid, "Indeed, sir, I never saw it in this way before: I 
remember well reading in the Bible, 'Forgive us our 
debts,' but I never rightly knew what it meant." 



ANOTHER DEBT. 3 

" It means," said the gentleman, " foi^^ive us our sins. 
But not only are our sins debts, but every omission of do- 
ing what is right is a debt, and therefore also a sin." 

John looked very thoughtful without speaking, and the 
gentleman continued, " Now, John, did I not tell you true 
when I told you that you owed another and a far greatei 
debt than the one I have just now paid for you ?" 

"Sure enough you did, sir," said John; *'but I am 
thinking — sir, I am thinking — " 

" Perhaps you are thinking how you will ever be able to 
pay this debt ; but as I have brought you good news this 
morning about the money you owe, so perhaps I may be able 
also to give you good news about this other great debt." 

John looked surprised, and the gentleman said, "1 
want you first to consider well what I have now been 
saying. Search the word of God to find out what your 
debt is, and when you can, call at my house, and we will 
have some further conversation on the subject." 

The gentleman then took his leave. The poor man 
was released from prison, and went home to his wife, very 
gladly telling her of the gentleman's kindness towards him. 

John followed the gentleman's advice, and during the 
next few days employed his spare time in diligently 
searching the Scriptures of truth. That gracious God who 
has promised that the seed of Israel shall not seek him in 
vain, and who is ever nigh to those who draw nigh to him, 
was pleased to meet this poor man with a blessing. 

While he was thus employed, the Holy Spirit directed 
his attention in an especial manner to that verse in Isa. 
44 : 22, "/ have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy trails- 
gressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins : return unto me ; for 
I have redeemed theeP He read it, paused, and thought 
upon it, and presently he said to himself, 'If in one place 
in the Bible our sins are called debts, and if in another 
place they are said to be blotted out, then surely the 
debt must be paid." This seemed very plain to him, but 
still several difficulties arose in his mind as to who had 
paid the debt, and whether every one's debt was paid, and 



4 ANOTHER DEBT. 

if not, whether his was. In this state of mind, earnestly 
desiring to know the truth, he remembered the gentle- 
man's invitation to call at his house, in order to have a 
little further conversation with him on the subject. IJe 
accordingly went, and found the gentleman at home. 

"Well, John," said he, "have you taken my advice, 
and searched the Scriptures since I saw you?" "Yes, 1 
have, sir, and have thought a good deal of what I have 
read, but one verse somehow has struck my mind above 
all the others. I can understand part of it, but I cannot 
understand it all." " What is the verse ?" John found it 
and read it. " I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy trans- 
gressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins : return unto me ; lor I 
have redeemed thee." " That verse," said the gentleman, 
"contains good news, the good news of God's boundless 
grace and forgiving mercy towards poor guilty sinners." 

" Yes, sir, that is just what I want to understand. It 
does seem to me that this verse has good news i;ideed, 
but I do not quite understand in what way. Perhaps, 
sir, you would be so good as to explain it to me." 

" The first thing to understand, John, is, that we have 
been born into this world sinners, and are such in the 
sight of God. This verse will never become precious to 
us till we have been led to feel this by the teaching of 
the Holy Spirit. When the poor sinner is led by the 
Spirit to see what he is by nature and by practice, and 
reads in the Scriptures, 'The soul that sinneth, it shall 
die,' then the cry of his heart for the first time is, 'What 
must I do to be saved ?' Blessed be God, he does not 
leave the sinner with this question unanswered, for the 
same Spirit who points to his sins, points also to Jesus; 
and when he teaches him that he is by nature in ' a 
horrible pit' of sin, he also teaches him that, through 
abounding grace, there is ' a fountain opened for sin and 
for uncleanness.' Zech. 13 : 1. While he shows him that 
all his righteousnesses are as filthy rags, he also shows 
him that ' the righteousness of God is by faith of Jesus 
Christ unto all and upon all them that believe.' Rom 



A.NOTHER DEBT. 5 

3 : 22. When he teaches him the greatness of his spir- 
itual ignorance, he also teaches him that Jesus is one 
who can have compassion on the ignorant.' Heb. 5 : 2. 
\n a word, when he teaches the sinner that in himself he 
is lost and ruined, he also teaches him that in Jesus ho 
is found, restored, renewed, and made completely happy. 
A.11 this, when received by the teaching of the Spirit, is 
such good news to the poor sinner, that he now rejoices as 
one who has found a treasure, and spiritually understands 
how Jesus is the ' Pearl of great price,' for whom he could 
willingly suffer the loss of all things." 

John seemed interested, and his countenance bright- 
ened while the gentleman thus talked to him. Presently 
he said, " I wanted, sir, to understand a little better the 
meaning of ' I have blotted out thy transgressions.' " 

" You knoAv, John, that in transactions among men, 
when a creditor and a debtor have accounts to settle, the 
creditor will take good care that the account shall not be 
blotted out till the debt is paid." 

" That is true, sir, and my creditor proved it." 
" Then you understand, that when the creditor blots 
out the debt, it is as much as to say that it is paid, and he 
is satisfied." 

" Yes, sir," said John, " I understand that." 
"Well, then, this may help you to see how the matter 
stands between God and sinners. Our sins are debts, and 
we are debtors to God. If God says, 'I have blotted out 
thy transgressions,' or in other words, thy debts, then we 
may be well assured that the debt is paid, and that God 
is satisfied. If you ask when and by whom was the debt 
paid, listen and I will tell you. You know that God 
created man like himself, righteous and happy, 'for in the 
image of God made he man.' He gave him laws, which 
if he kept, he was to live, and which if he broke, he was 
to die. Man refused the good, and chose the evil. He 
broke the law of God, and from that moment his debt be- 
gan. The longer he lived, the greater his debt became ; 
for as the first transgression was a debt, it is plain that 



6 ANOTHiill DEBT. 

every succeeding transgression must increase the debtv 
The law of God is unalterable, and that law declares, 
'The soul that sinneth, it shall die.' Every one has sin- 
ned, and therefore every one deserves death. How sad 
then was the state of fallen man, who had ruined himself 
by departing from God I What could be done ? The 
infinite wisdom of God did what no finite wisdom could ; 
and what was it ? Let us answer in the words of holy 
Scripture : 'God so loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life.' John 3 : 16. God gave 
the promise of his ' only begotten Son' to man when he 
first fell ; and * when the fulness of the time was come, God 
sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, 
to redeem them that were under the law, that we might 
receive the adoption of sons.' In this lies the great mys- 
tery of godliness, 'God was manifest in the flesh.' He 
who is God over all, became flesh and dwelt among us 
for man's salvation. He in whose mighty hands are the 
keys of life and death, willingly laid down his own life 
for sinners, and humbled himself even to the death of the 
cross. Phil. 2 : 8. Sin is an infinite evil, because com- 
mitted against an infinitely holy God, and therefore il 
required an infinite atonement. None but one who wa? 
both God and man could make such an atonement. We 
see in the sacrifice of Jesus the God-man, the wonderful 
provision which the Father in his wisdom and love made 
for the redemption of sinners, whereby the Son, in the 
depth of his love, became the surety of his people. Heb. 

7 : 22. You of course know that a surety is one who 
stands in the place of another, and engages to become 
answerable for all that the other is liable to." 

"Yes, sir," said John, "I understand that." 

"Now in A\hose place did Jesus, as a surety, stand? 
and for what did Jesus, as a surety, become answerable?" 

"He stood in the place of sinners." 

" Yes ; for he died, the just for the unjust, that he might 
bring us to God. 112 took the sins, that is the debts 



Ai'^OTHER DEBT. 7 

of his people upon him, and endured the wrath and curse 
of God which those sins deserved ; and therefore it is 
written, 'Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the 
law, being made a curse for us.' Gal. 3 : 13. He left 
nothing undone and unendured, which, as our Surety, he 
had engaged to do and to endure ; and therefore it is thai 
God is said to be 'faithful and just to forgive us our sins.' 
To the believing sinner, he says, ' I have blotted out, as a 
thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins : 
return unto me ; for I have redeemed thee.' I have blot- 
ted them out because Jesus, thy Surety, hath fully paid 
the debt. Poor penitent, trembling believer, because Jesus 
thy Surety has fully answered every charge, I send thee 
this joyful message in the gospel of my Son, that I have 
' cast all thy sins into the depths of the sea.' There is 
no hinderance whatever to the full and free forgiveness of 
every sinner who goes to God for pardon in the name of 
Jesus ; therefore Jesus says, ' Him that cometh to me I 
will in no wise cast out.' But we must ever remember, 
that while God the Father, in pardoning sinners, does it 
in justice to his Son, as the sinner's Surety, it is at the 
same time in the most unbounded mercy to sinners. 
That which Christ procured at the expense of his own 
sufferings and death comes to sinners freely, ' without 
money and without price.' To that holy law of God which 
we have violated in thought, word, and deed, he rendered 
an absolutely perfect obedience even unto death; so that 
he could say, ' I have finished the work which thou gavest 
me to do.' John 17 : 4. He wrought out a perfect right- 
eousness, fulfilled the whole of God's righteous law. It 
was for sinners, for the unrighteous — for those who, hav- 
ing no righteousness of their own, must have perished for 
ever M'ithout his — that God made this wonderful ex- 
change. He imputed the sins of his people to Christ, 
reckoning them as his, and thus believers are saved from 
wrath through him ; and God imputes the righteousness 
of Christ to them, reckoning it to be theirs, and thus gives 
them a title, and a righteous title, to his kingdom. Thus 



8 ANOTHER DEBT. 

Christ, as the Surety, not only saves a sinner froin wrath, 
but leads him to glory. How wonderful is the love of 
God to poor wretched man ! The more we meditate upon 
it, the more wonderful does it appear." 

John had been very attentive, and apparently deeply in- 
terested, while the gentleman thus opened to him " the gos- 
pel of the grace of God." Presently he said, " 1 thank you, 
sir ; it seems much plainer than it did ; but then, how 
shall I know whether my sins are blotted out? because 
if they are not, I see plainly that I cannot be saved." 

" That is a very important question, John, but it is 
easily answered. The tidings of pardon and mercy in 
the Bible are addressed to sinners as sinners, without 
any distinction of circumstance or condition ; then if 
you and I believe and know ourselves to be sinners, we 
have an undoubted right, on the authority of God's word, 
to receive them as addressed to us. It is this very fact, 
namely, our being sinners, that makes these blessed 
tidings suit us ; for Jesus ' came not to call the righteous, 
but sinners to repentance.' Nay, we may take even higher 
ground still, for in the Scriptures we find that God reckons 
our not believing as disobedience ; for it is written, ' This 
IS his commandment. That we should believe on the name 
of his Son Jesus Christ.' 1 John, 3 : 23. You see from 
these words, that God has made it the duty of every one 
who hears the gospel, to believe it ; then disbelieving it 
is disobedience to God's plain command. And this is 
what makes the gospel so unspeakably precious to sinners, 
because, though no man can find his own name annexed 
to any prori.ise of pardon and mercy in the Bible, yei 
reading over and over again that this grace is all for sin- 
ners, a man may look up to the Lord and say, ' Lord Jesus, 
thou didst die for sinners, for poor guilty sinners, and such 
a one. Lord, am I ; therefore, help me to believe that 
I may be saved.' How simple is the gospel! Its mes- 
sage is, ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt 
be saved.' Acts 16 :31. Believe, and be saved. To all 
who believe, God proclaims in his word, ' I have blotted 



ANOTHER DEBT. 9 

out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, 
thy sins : return unto me ; for I have redeemed thee.' 
This is God's gracious message to sinners, wretched, un- 
done, guilty, hell-deserving sinners. It is addressed to no 
one exclusively, but it is the bounden duty of every one 
who reads it, or hears it, to take the message as spoken 
to himself, and by faith in Christ to ' receive the forgive- 
ness of sins.' It is not the nature of the gospel to tell a 
man, that if he repent of his sins and leave them off', and 
does the best he can for the future, therefore God will 
have mercy upon him, and save him : it would be no 
gospel, no good news to him to tell him this, for this mes- 
sage would not go to the root of the matter ; it would not 
reach the sinner's case. But the glad tidings of 'the 
everlasting gospel' for poor sinners are these : that every 
thing they can possibly require from first to last for their 
salvation, is treasured up in Christ, and that God in his 
boundless grace freely bestows Christ and all bles>ings in 
him upon them. All salvation is in Christ, ' neither is 
there salvation in any other; for there is none other name 
under heaven given among men, whereby we must be 
saved.' So that none ought to seek in themselves for 
what is only to be found in Christ. Blessed be God, the 
salvation of Jesus is a finished salvation, and he who is 
enabled by the power of the Holy Ghost to receive this 
salvation, shall indeed prove that 'blessed is he whose 
transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.' The sin- 
ner who believes in Jesus will have boldness in the day 
of judgment, for he will then be able to look upon Jesus 
and say to him, 'Thou wilt hear,' or answer for, 'me, 
Lord, my God,' Psa. 38:15; while the unbeliever, the 
rejecter of the gospel, must go into the eternal world 
without a surety, without one to answer for him." 

John thanked the gentleman very heartily for the in- 
struction he had given him, and then took his leave. 

For some months the gentleman, who took a great in- 
terest in the welfare of this poor man, had many oppor- 
tunities of seeing him and of conversing with him, and 

12* 



10 ANOTHER DEBT. 

had good reason to believe that "the Lord the Spirit" 
was carrying on a " work of grace " in his soul. He had 
ever been an upright, honest man, as far as outward con- 
duct goes, though hitherto he had been a stranger to the 
mighty power of grace ; but he now became a spiritual 
man, inwardly delighting in the ways of the Lord, and 
giving evidence that he had been "born from above." 

He whose ways are not as man's ways, and who giveth 
not account of any of his matters, was pleased in his wis- 
dom to appoint that the spiritual life of this poor man 
should not be a very long one, for, a few months after, the 
gentleman heard that John had been seized with a vio- 
lent disease. He went to him, but found that the disease 
had already gained such a height, that the physician 
gave no hope of his life. The gentleman said to him, 
"John, it seems to be the will of God that you should 
soon be in another' world. How is it with your soul?" 

For a few minutes the poor man was in such an agony 
of pain that he could not answer. At length, when an 
interval of comparative ease was granted to him, he said, 
" Sir, I feel and know that I am a dying man ; I believe 
that my hours, and perhaps my minutes, will soon be 
numbered, and I know that if I had the wealth of worlds, 
it could not purchase for me a longer life." 

"That is true," said the gentleman ; "but if you have 
Christ, you have what is infinitely better than the wealth 
of worlds, for he is able to give you 'eternal life.'" 

" Ah, sir, he has taught me that ; and what a blessed 
thing it is, that he taught it to me before he laid rtie on 
this bed of death ; for how could I now think of the way 
to be saved, when my body is racked with pain ?" 

" Very true," said the gentleman ; " men commit a fear- 
ful mistake when they put off the greatest concern of 
theii lives till the last, for this is the way to lose the soul. 
And after all, it is not a few tears, and prayers, and res- 
olutions of amendment if life be spared, which men often 
make on a dying bed, that can prove them to be believers 
in Jesus; but it is a life spent in his service, and in doinrr 



ANOTHER DEBT. 11 

his will. But what has the Lord taught you about him- 
self, which he enables you to find so comforting in the 
prospect of death ?'' 

" He has taught me to know and to believe that noth- 
ing but the blood of Jesus cm wash away sins." 

"And do you believe tli^L he has washed away your 
fiins ?" 

"Yes," said the poor man, '* I do believe what you 
taught me from the Bible, that Christ has put away sin, 
and he has taught me to believe it for myself." 

"And do you find that the Lord Jesus is suited to you 
in the extremity to which he has now brought you ?" . 

John looked at him with a countenance full of mean- 
ing, as though he would fain give a long answer to such 
a question; but his great weakness, and the increase of 
his pain prevented him, and, in a feeble voice, he said, 
"If Jesus does not suit me now, who else could?" 

The gentleman then waited a few minutes, thinking 
his end was very near, but the physician said it was prob- 
able he would yet live three or four hours. He then re- 
peated very sloAvly several texts of Scripture, ending with 
this, "I know that my Ptedeemer liveth." 

The poor man seemed as though he would gladly 
listen, but his great pain made it very difficult to do so. 
After an interval of about a quarter of an hour, he made 
an effort to speak, and repeated again, "If Jesus does not 
suit me now, who else could ? His blood has washed me 
from my sins, his righteousness can take me to heaven, 
and he has taught me that in his presence I can be happy 
for ever." 

"Very true, John; it is the only ground of consolation 
that any one can have in the prospect of death ; all other 
hopes and grounds of confidence will pass away like a 
breath, and leave the soul exposed to the wrath of God for 
ever. But the true foundation of hope, even Jesus, is a 
foundation that will stand for ever. Millions of sinners 
have tried this foundation, and it has never failed one, 
Jesus is the Surety, and he who trusts in this Surety foi 



12 ANOTHER DEBT. 

salvation shall never be ashamed nor confounded world 
without end." 

The dying man smiled, and tried to speak, but was 
unable to articulate distinctly ; and not long after, his soul 
departed in peace to the presence of the Lord, the sinner's 
Surety. 

If you know not Jesus as your Surety, it would have 
been better for you if you had never been born. If he be 
not your Surety, your debts must remain on your own 
head, and they will sink you down into eternal ruin. 
There is no other surety but Jesus ; there is no other 
atonement for sin, but the one he has made. His blood 
has power to wash you from your sins, his righteousness 
can give you a title to heaven, though you may be the 
most unrighteous sinner under heaven. May the teaching 
of the blessed Spirit reveal Jesus to your soul in all his 
preciousness as the sinner's Surety. 

And you to whom Jesus is precious as your Surety 
and as your title to heaven, rejoice every day in his surety- 
ship engagements. Make him your glory and boast, and 
"crown of rejoicing." Seek grace daily to "put on the 
Lord Jesus Christ," and to walk " even as he walked." 
"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see 
your good works, and glorify your Father which is in 
heaven." Remember, for your encouragement through 
this wilderness world, that the Father sees you complete 
in Jesus your Head, and will one day "present you fault 
less before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy." 
Remember, for your daily joy, that " there is now no 
condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus ;" and that 
in the last great day, when the assembled universe shall 
stand before the "Lord of hosts" in the judgment, you 
shall be honorably and righteously acquitted from every 
charge brought against you by man or devils, for Jesu? 
says, "Every tongue that shall rise against thee in judg 
ment thou shalt condemn." And this is because Jesus, 
the sinner's Friend, is also the "sinner's Surety.'' 



"TO WHOM SHALL 1 GO?" 



THE CHURCH-MEMBER IN DOUBT 
AND DISTRESS. 



There is a class of persons who are seldom or nevei 
made the subjects of direct address and appropriate in- 
struction from the sacred desk. It consists of those ivithin 
the enclosures of the church icho have come to an intelli- 
gent convictio7i that they have neither part nor lot in the 
kingdo)7i of Christ. We do not remember to have heard 
a single discourse which was suited to the condition of 
such. No treatise with which we are acquainted ad- 
dresses such exclusively, and furnishes them with that 
information which is specially appropriate to their case. 
Often do the ministers of religion insist on the danger 
of self-deception, and paint, as do the Scriptures, the 
fearful doom of the hypocrite. Frequently do they ex- 
hibit the tests of Christian character, and unfold the 
rules and evidences by which any man may pronounce 
upon his pretensions to the Christian name. But the 
persons of whom we now speak are by no means self-de- 
ceived, neither are they acting the part of hypocrisy. By 
the employment of those very tests with which they are 
furnished, they have been led to decide unfavorably con- 
cerning themselves. They write gloomy things against 
themselves. They have come to feel that they are not, 
and never were true Christians. They have abandoned 
their hope. They are not a little disheartened because 
of thoir condition. They know not what to do. 



2 "TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 

They feel that their own state differs in many mate- 
rial points from that of men of the world who have never 
professed to be any thing besides. They are already 
within the church. They are reputed to be Christians. 
At times they may be ready to wish that they were 
out of the church, occupying the same place which 
they did before they entered it. They are inclined 
to think that it would be better for themselves if it 
could be so. But now that they are already known as 
the professed disciples of Christ, many things combine to 
perplex them concerning the course which it would be 
proper for them to pursue. Shall they publicly confess 
that they are strangers to religion ? Shall they with- 
draw from the church, erase their names from its rec- 
ords, and hereafter neglect its ordinances ? This they 
fear to do. though at times they are almost forced to the 
act. Shall they remain as they are ; pass through the 
forms of religion with conscience against them. ; organize 
their lives on the general principle of a reputable mo- 
rality, and for the rest abide the issue ? Their condition 
demands our profound concern. If the truth were known, 
many more would be found in this state than we have 
over imagined. 

To such as are ready to admit that they belong to this 
descrij)tion of persons, I would say, 

1 In the first place, look diligently, cautiously, intelli- 
gently into the reasons which lead you to such a decision. 
Is it with good reason, or otherwise, that you so judge in 
reference to yourself? It is possible that you are mis- 
taken in your judgment, and need only to be corrected. 
Perhaps your gloomy opinion may be the result of a con- 
stitutional cautiousness of mind, or improper conceptions 
of the gospel of Christ, or depression of the animal spirits 
in consequence of bodily infirmity, disease, or other cause, 



"TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 3 

The mere absence of all hope does not render it certain 
that you have no good ground to hope. There may be 
the very best evidence of Christian character where 
there is no happy hope, just as truly as there may be a 
confident hope where there are no evidences to justify 
it. Doubts concerning one's own piety often indicate a 
healthy condition of the conscience. They imply anxiety 
and discrimination, and a desire to know the truth ; and 
when compared with their opposite, a self-confident and 
presumptuous habit, are infinitely to be preferred. Great 
sensibility to pain is not the most dangerous symptom in 
disease. 

A deep feeling of unicorthiness is no evidence that you 
are not in your right place. You are mistaken if you 
suppose that any other feeling is becoming in one who 
hopes to be saved only by the mercy of Jesus Christ. 
You may possess the most profound sense of your per- 
sonal unworthiness, and be ready to admit that all others 
are better than you ; that there is no one more undeserv- 
ing the privilege of being admitted to Christian ordi- 
nances : this feeling may be daily deepening and extend- 
ing, and of itself presents no good reasons which should 
debar you from the table of Christ. You have been 
subject to great misapprehension, if you have ever sup- 
posed that you should feel otherwise, or have wished to 
feel otherwise ; for no other feeling is becoming in one 
who trusts in the cross of Christ. 

It may be, therefore, when better informed on these 
points, and exercising a more impartial discrimination, 
that you will find much reason to hope on your own 
account. On the otheY hand, if it be true, that upon 
an intelligent survey of the evidences of Christian char- 
acter; after making all possible allowances and exceptions 
in your favor, which a sound and cautious judgment will 



4 "TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 

permit ; after the most careful and honest scrutiny intc 
the motives and emotions of your heart, you come to the 
rational conviction that you have never been renewed by 
the Spirit of God : then to you I say, 

2, Be grateful to God that your eyes have been ojiejied to 
see your true condition before it w^as too late. This is a 
mercy which few appreciate. We have reason to believe 
that of those who enter the church on earth with hearts 
deceived and unchanged, few are ever brought to true and 
saving repentance. We think we see many reasons why 
it must be so. Many influences there are, whose natural 
effect is to perpetuate that delusion and confirm that im- 
penitence. There is the manner in which that entrance 
was effected. It was upon examination. Those in whose 
piety and judgment all confidence has been reposed, pro- 
nounced favorably upon their qualifications for admission 
to Christian fellowship. These persons were questioned 
by the teachers of religion ; the elders of the people 
looked into their experience, and they were ready to wel- 
come them to the table of Christ. In consequence of this, 
it is not to be denied that there is a sense of security 
which is likely to endanger and ruin such as were self- 
deceived, when official judgment was thus given in their 
favor. Deceived they will,, on this account, be likely to 
remain. 

There is another influence at work which tends to the 
same result. There is a public separation made between 
the church and the world. It is visible; it is recognized 
by all the appeals which are made by God's ambassadors. 
By a very natural process, there is a corresponding dis- 
tribution and partition made by such persons, each for 
himself. The professed disciple appropriates to himself 
whatever is designed for the consolation and blessedness 
of the people of God. Whatever is said concerning the 



"TO \VHO.M SHALL I GOf 6 

guilt and danger of impenitence, and the necessity of con- 
version, is conducted off from himself to those who arc 
confessedly in an impenitent state. Such appeals were 
not designed for him. They were intended for the great 
body of unbelieving men. There is a shield over his 
heait and conscience, through which the arrows of the 
Lord do not pass. A sense of security is generated by 
this habit, which we have reason to fear is but seldom 
eflectually disturbed. Not as likely is he, on this ac- 
count, to apply the truth which is really appropriate to 
his case. 

Besides all this, there is the certain efTect produced 
upon the character by a participation in Christian ordi- 
nances, and the enjoyment of peculiar privileges. Very 
solemn it is to sit down at the table of Christ. It is a 
very solemn thing to put to one's lips the cup which sym- 
bolizes the blood that was shed for our salvation, and to 
eat of the bread which reminds us of the body which was 
pierced and broken on the cross. What scene more im- 
pressive, more awful, more tender, more fitted in every 
way to subdue and break the heart, can ever occur in the 
present life ? We look in vain for any thing more powerful 
to afTect us than this. But what if one participates therein 
with a heart unchanged ? Is there not an effect produced 
upon his character which is absolutely fearful ? Does he 
not acquire a power of resistance to truth and love and 
motives, which leave us little to hope ? While his sense 
n( security has been deepening, has not his heart really 
been growing hard proportionably fast ? We cannot doubt 
it. We cannot conceal it from ourselves that there are 
reasons why those who are admitted to the number of 
God's people with hearts deceived and impenitent, will 
probably continue in that state for ever. We cannot but 
tremble when we admit the probability, that of those 



6 "TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 

who eat and drink unworthily, very few are ever awak- 
ened and converted. 

Therefore it is that we say to you who have been 
brought to an intelligent conviction that you have no 
evidences of conversion, though in the bosom of the 
church, that you have reason to thank God for his mercy 
in having dispelled your delusions, broken up your se- 
curity, and brought you to a knowledge of yourself. You 
might have slept on, and deceived yourself as do others, 
till life was all over. The Spirit of God has not de- 
serted you. You are not given up to believe a lie. God 
is still waiting to be gracious to you ; and the proof of it 
is already before you for your encouragement. 

3. It is important for you to understand, in the next 
place, that you cannot find a refuge in a retreat to the 
icorld. You cannot go back ; you cannot exclude your- 
self from the church. Upon this point there are many 
prevalent errors, both of opinion and practice. Many 
who like you have come to the conviction that they never 
knew any thing of true religion, have resolved that they 
would silently withdraw from the communion of the 
church. They absent themselves from the Lord's tabic 
They perhaps give no more attendance on the ordinances 
of the Lord's house. Convinced that they are strangers 
to piety, they consider this a good reason why they should, 
of their own accord, retire from Christian fellowship. 

All such are under a palpable mistake. There are 
none appointed in the church of Christ to grant permis- 
sion to any who may desire it, to withdraw and return 
again to the world. No man within the church has the 
right to assume this permission for hmiself. The Scrip- 
tures recognize but two ways in which any communicant 
can ever be removed from the church on earth. The one 
Is by the direct agency of God himself. Death removes 



"TO WHOM SHALL 1 GO?" 7 

one after another, and takes them into eternity. But 
death does not absolve any one from his solemn vows; 
he transfers the true Christian to the church in glory, 
to abide there for ever. The other method is by ex- 
clusion because of offences. For the preservation of her 
own purity, the continuance of her own institutions, as 
well as the discipline and recovery of her own members, 
the church has been invested with the power of cutting 
off such as offend and will not be reclaimed. When ad- 
monition has failed, and all suitable efforts have been 
frustrated, then is the church required, in the name of her 
great Lord and Head, to pronounce such excluded from 
all Christian rights and privileges. Ever after, unless 
they repent and return, such are to be held as heathen 
men and publicans. Other than the two methods which 
I have now described, death by the agency of God him- 
self, and exclusion in the manner and for the reasoni 
which have been defined by our Lord himself, there is no 
way of being disconnected from the church of the living 
God. He is subject to a great misapprehension who sup- 
poses that he may withdraw at his own pleasure. 

For in the first place, such a withdrawal, if it could 
be permitted, would not absolve one from the vows 
which have already b^en made. Once made, they can 
never be retracted or broken. The language of the 
church to such as come to the Lord's table is in sub- 
stance, " Let it be impressed on your minds that you 
have entered into solemn relations which you can never 
renounce, and from which you can never escape. Wher- 
ever you go, they will be upon you. They will follow 
you to the bar of God ; and in whatever world you may 
be fixed, will abide on you to eternity. You can never be 
again as you have been. You have voluntarily, publicly, 
and unalterably committed yourselves, and henceforth you 



e "TO WHOM SHALL I ao?" 

7nust. be the servants of God." There is no retreat, no re- 
tirement, no crowd, no cavern, no island of the sea, no spot 
in all the creation of God to v^hich you may betake your- 
self, where the solemnity and obligation of these vows 
will not rest upon you. Retrogression, therefore, is not, 
to be thought of for one instant. 

Besides all this, if you are not a Christian now, your 
obligation to be a Christian is not diminished in the leas^t 
by any change in your outward circumstances and rela- 
tions. You cannot escape from that duty. It is omni- 
present, like the air you breathe. Are not the crowds 
of living men, heedless, impenitent though they be, under 
obligation to believe and obey from the heart ? Does not 
God lay righteous claim to their services ? Ought they 
not to be the disciples of Jesus Christ ? Will not their 
guilt be great, and their punishment intolerable, if they 
refuse ? Is it to such that you would think of withdraw- 
ing ? Withdraw from what ? Not surely from respon- 
sibility. Not from the duty to be from the heart a be- 
liever in Jesus. Had you the wings of the morning, you 
could not fly beyond the reach and jurisdiction of this 
equitable requirement. To retire from the church, even 
if it were permitted, would not lessen your obligations, 
or lighten their pressure, or diminish their solemnity, or 
absolve you from the morai". government of God. 

Withdraw from the church I To what would you go ? 
To the world again ? To the unbelief and heedlessness 
of impenitent men ? But this is to rush upon a certain de- 
struction. To such, nothing remains but a looking for of 
judgment which shall devour the adversaries. Hope there 
is none in that quarter. Absolutely certain is it, that all 
such as obey not the gospel of God will be visited with 
tribulation and anguish. To go back, is to go back to per- 
dition. There is nothinir in a state of unbelief which can 



•'TO WHOM SHALL ] GOT" 9 

comfort your heart or illuminate your prospects. To go 
back to the world, is to go back to infamy and death. 
Retreat is cut off. Whatever is to be done, we cannot go 
back, unless we have made an agreement with h^ll, and 
with death are in covenant, and the last hope has gone 
out, and our resolution is formed to meet our inevitable 
fate in the sullenness of despair. It is not so with you. 
Evident is it, then, that you must hope for relief from 
another quarter ; instead of retreating, you must advance. 
You are shut up to an onward movement. You can move 
only in one way. True wisdom it is to say, " Lord, to 
whom shall we go ? thou hast the words of eternal life." 

When convinced of this, the next direction is obvious. 

4. Begin now, begin anew those very acts ivhich are 
7iecessary to 'pardon and life, in the case of those who 
have made no pretensions to religion. It is a great mis- 
take, into which many 'fall, to suppose that when the 
hope of forgiveness is once obtained, then they are no 
more concerned with that class of truths which are ad- 
dressed to those in an impenitent state. It is to be re- 
ceived as a general rule of great practical importance, for 
all to continue to hear and repent and pray, just as if 
these duties were now required for the first time. There 
are some qualifications and limits to this rule, no doubt, 
but these are such as the fulness of one's religious experi- 
ence will readily suggest ; but that it is a direction both 
safe and wise cannot be questioned. Edwards, than 
whom few men have known so much of the complexities 
and varieties of Christian experience, insisted much on 
this rule in his day ; and had it always been adopted and 
applied, there would have been less of delusion and disap- 
pointment. 

Y''ou consider yourself an unconverted man. You 
are convinced that you have never experienced a sav- 



10 "TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 

iiig faith in Christ. Admit it. Be it so, that there 
is no mistake in your judgment. Act now on this con- 
viction. Surely you can not be in doubt as to what you 
must do. Your past professions, your standing in the 
church cannot change the directions which are addressed 
to all in an impenitent state. Like any other unconverted 
man, you must cry out, Jesus, thou Son of David, have 
mercy on me. The motives to do this, and to do it speed- 
ily, are more numerous and pressing in your case than in 
any other. You must begin at the very point where you 
would begin had you never had a hope before. You must 
open your eyes to behold your own sinfulness. You must 
be careful that you grieve not the Spirit of God, which 
has come to convince you of the truth. You must set 
yourself to rehearse your obligations violated, and sins 
indulged. You must bow down, confess, and plead for 
pardon. Oh, repent of thy wicicedness ; if you did not 
go far enough before, come now and say. Father, I have 
sinned against heaven and before thee. If there was 
some secret thing before which prevented you from 
closing quite with the only Saviour of sinners, be sure 
that there is nothing now. If you were only almost per- 
suaded to be a Christian before, be altogether persuaded 
now. If you failed of entering the kingdom of God be- 
fore only by a little, be sure that you now enter quite 
within. If in your first approaches to the Master you 
kept back part of the price, now come and give him your 
all. I know of no other terms of salvation than these, 
I know of no other conditions of return and acceptance. 
These are suited to all the varieties of an impenitent 
state. To men of every grade and character, under 
whatever name they pass, of whatever appearance, the 
same direction is to be given : Repent, and believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. 



"TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" H 

I am not ignorant of what may he regarded as the 
peculiarities of your case ; I know what distrust, what 
difficulty, what fear, what agitations of soul you must ex- 
perience. I know to what temptations of the great foe 
you will be exposed ; what deceits, what diversions, what 
delays, what hinderances, he will employ with his ex* 
tremest skill, to prevent your cordial acceptance of par- 
don. Of these, none will he be so sure to try, as the fear 
that in your case pardon will not be granted. If possi- 
ble, he will make you think that your guilt is of such a 
character that you cannot expect to be forgiven. My last 
direction accordingly is, 

5. Be confident of this, that if you ask for mercy on 
the same terms in which all must plead for it, with a bro- 
ken heart and a contrite spirit, you ivill be forgiven. It is 
true, that your sin has been very great in having rejected 
the Saviour so long, and under such peculiar circum- 
stances ; but there is no sin which a God of infinite mercy 
cannot forgive, if it be repented of. That you could 
have passed through such privileges, looked upon the 
body and blood of Christ with a heart unsubdued, un- 
grateful, is indeed a great aggravation of your guilt ; but 
there is no degree or amount of iniquity which aton- 
ing blood cannot wash away, if the penitent spirit will 
but ask for its application. To eat and drink unworthily is 
not the unpardonable sin. To take of the bread and of 
the cup with a heart deceived and unchanged, does not 
of itself seal one's damnation. There is no sin which 
cannot be pardoned if it be confessed and forsaken. We 
must never suffer ourselves to think that there is any 
kind, or quality, or amount of sin, though it be high as 
mountains, and dyed deep as crimson blood, which God 
is not both able and willing to forgive. Broad, deep, and 
full as the sea, his mercy can roll over a world of sin, 



12 "TO WHOM SHALL I GO?" 

and wash away a world of iniquity. His offers of mercy 
are made to you as really as to any other ; his promises 
are just as sure in your case as in any other ; and if you 
have been a stranger to true peace and hope before, you 
may come, if you will, and try the efficacy of a Saviours 
blood applied to your conscience now. There is no sin 
which is unpardonable if it be repented of. The sin 
which excludes one from mercy both in this life and that 
which is to come, is such a resistance to the Holy Ghost 
as makes repenting impossible. 

With you the Spirit of God seems to be striving now. 
That very thing which it is his peculiar province to do, he 
is now doing with you. He is convincing you of your 
sin ; he is showing you your need of a Saviour; he is 
pointing you to the cross, he is moving you to repentance. 
And if there be one person on earth whose condition 
more than any other awakens the pity and tenderness of 
the Redeemer of sinners, it seems to me it is the pro- 
fessor of religion who has come at length to be convinced 
that he is not a Christian ; who dares not go back ; who is 
afraid to go forward ; who, though called a disciple before, 
yet having denied and forsaken his Master, is now weeping 
bitterly over his sin, and for the first time longs to lay 
his head at the Saviour's feet, and bathe them with tears 
which cannot be feijrned. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. 556. 



MARY ELIZA. 



The subject of this narrative was descended froir 
Irish parents, who were Roman-catholics. She attendeii 
the confessional at the usual age, and partook of the sac 
rament with great regularity. She was remarkably con 
scientious on all religious subjects, being always disposed 
to do what she considered her duty. 

AYhen arrived at the age of maturity, her parents 

removed from W , where they had resided, to N , 

in the state of V . Here she married an enterprising 

mechanic, who has since acquired considerable property. 
Her husband was a Protestant by education, but not a 
communicant in any church. He was in the habit of 
accompanying his wife to the door of her church, but 
seldom or never entered himself. This difference of re- 
ligious sentiment made her unhappy, and had also an 
influence to render him neglectful of public worship. 

In the autumn of 1841, the writer of this narrative 
was called to the pastoral office in the town where Mrs. 

N resided, but he did not form an acquaintance with 

her until she became much concerned about her soul, 
and sent for him to give her instruction and advice. Her 

priest, the E.ev. Mr. H , had gone to a distant city to 

collect funds for his church. There was at the time an 
unusual attention to religion in tlie writer's congregatior. 
Meetings were numerous, and many, both old and young, 
w^ere seeking the salvation of their souls. Among others 
Mr. N attended, though manifesting no special inter- 
est on the subject. On one occasion he requested his wife, 
who had never witnessed a Protestant service, to accom- 
pany him. She consented to do so, but solely, as she in- 
formed the writer afterwards, upon the ground that she 
VOL. xiii. . 13 



3 MARY ELIZA. 

desired to cherish m her husband a regard to religion, 
even though it should be of a Protestant type. 

Her feelings on this occasion were very trying. She 
was doing an act which her church positively forbade, 
and she was entering a place where she expected to hear 
her own doctrines and practices abused. The result of 
tills tiist attendance upon Protestant worship was a double 
gratihcation : first, that not a word had been said against Ro- 
man-catholics ; and then, that the Bible had been expound- 
ed in a way she had never listened to before. Highly 
pleased with what she here heard and saw, she returned 
the next evening, and still the next, until her attendance 
became regular and earnest. 

She afterwards informed the writer that each dis- 
course she heard at this time seemed like a new revela- 
tion, from heaven ; so different were her present instruc 
tions from what she had been accustomed to. She even 
longed for the time to come when she should again hear 
the blessed gospel preached, not mixed up with the super- 
stitions and follies of Popery, but " in simplicity and 
godly sincerity." In this incipient change her husband 
took a deep interest, and in order to encourage her to 
attend our church regularly, rented a pew for her accom- 
modation. Never will the writer forget with what ear- 
nestness from Sabbath to Sabbath Mrs. N listened 

to the word that he preached. With a countenance irra- 
diated and eyes burning and eager, she gave an attention 
to preaching that he has never seen surpassed. Indeed, 

by this time Mrs. N had become deeply concerned 

about her soul ; and as she had little or no instruction, 
save what she obtained from the pulpit, she came each 
Sabbath morning to the sanctuary literally " hungering 
and thirsting after righteousness." 

The subject of regeneration particularly iiTipressed 
her mind. She had been taught that this change occurred 
in the rite of infant baptism. This notion she riow tlis- 
r43vcred to be erroneous, and that the new birth wa's the 



MARY ELIZA. 3 

work of the Holy Spirit in turning the heart to God. She 
saw and felt that all men were guilty and lost, and that 
salvation was to be obtained only through faith in a cruci- 
fied Redeemer. Giving up the Roman-catholic idea of 
church-salvation, and not being able as yet to realize a 
better hope through grace, her anxieties were multiplied 
and she had no rest. 

"While in this agitated state of mind her priest returned, 
and hearing that she had been attending Protestant wor- 
ship, he seon called to see her. Their interview, as nar- 
rated by herself, was substantially as follows : 

Priest. " Well, I hear that you have been attending 
a Protestant church, since my absence !" 

Mrs. N . " So I have ; and can truly say that I 

have never heard the Bible explained so much to my sat- 
isfaction before." 

Priest. " What ! and have you been reading that 
book also?" 

Mrs. INT . " Yes ; for our Saviour himself has 

commanded us to ' search the Scriptures ;' and how can 
you forbid it ?" 

Finding her inflexible, the priest assumed for a while 
a milder tone, and tried the art of persuasion. Failing 
here also, he told her her perdition was certain, should 
she relinquish the Catholic church. " It is possible,^' 
said he, " for those who have been raised in error to be 
saved without connection with the Catholic church ; but 
when one has been reared in the bosom of that church 
and yet forsakes it, there can be no hope." He then tried 
to intimidate her by telling her that many severe tem- 
poral judgments would befall her and her family, if she 
continued in her apostasy. 

All, however, was of no avail; for her mind was now 
too far enlightened by the gospel to yield to either the 
errors or the threats of Popery. A few Sabbaths after- 
wards she was excommunicated, and even her own par- 
ents and sisters forbidden to have intercourse with her I 



4 MARY ELIZA. 

The writer can never forget the 'Christian meekness with 
which she met this anathema of Rome. No bitternt-ss 
or anger was expressed. " It is their rule," said she, 
"and of course I expected it. It is hard that my own 
dear sisters and parents should pass me in the streets 
without speaking ; but then all this is by church author- 
ity, and they are still in ignorance. I do not feel angry 
at it, but am only the more anxious for their conversion," 

During the summer of 1842, Mrs. N seemed to 

despair of ever becoming a Christian according to the 
standard of the church which she was now attending. 
She stumbled at the doctrine of regeneration. She was 
a Protestant, and desired to be a communicant ; but ac- 
cording to the requirements of the church, she felt that 
she dared not apply for admission. 

While she was in this state of perplexity, on a Sabbath 
evening the writer was led to preach from the words of 
Ruth to Naomi, " Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return 
from following after thee ; for whither thou goest I will 
go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge ; thy people shall 
be my people, and thy God my God." The discourse from 
"this text was made, by the Spirit of God, the means of 
leading her to the Saviour, where she obtained that peace 
which she had long sought. So much was she excited 
during the night, that she slept but little ; and in the 
morning as soon as her husband left the room, she arose 
and fell upon her knees, beseeching God for forgiveness 
through a crucified Redeemer. Scarcely had the first 
petition fallen from her lips when she was blessed with 
such a sense of acceptance as filled her with joy almost 
approaching to rapture. " Now," she exclaimed, " I am 

ready to die ; now I can join Mr. C 's church." The 

light of the risen sun had just entered the room, in which 
she seemed to recognize God's goodness and love in ali 
the works of his hands. Her soul went out in atfection 
for all mankind, and the peace of God was so shed upon 
her as to remove doubt and fear. 



MARY ELIZA. d 

Early that morning the writer was called in to eee 
her, and found her one of the happiest persons he had 
ever known. It was impossible to repress the holy ex- 
ultation of her spirit. There was no self-exaltation or 
l)oasting in her manner, but on the contrary, a spirit of 
deep humility and penitence. Still, the change wrought 
in her had been so sensible, so powerful, that she could 
not but rejoice. 

The writer is aware that some have a prejudice 
against what are termed " sudden conversions." This 
prejudice has been strengthened by many instances in 
which those who have professed such conversions have 
returned soon afterwards to the world. But such lapses 
into old practices are not confined to this class of con- 
verts, but may too often, alas, be met with among those 
whose religious concern was both protracted and moderate. 
The truth is, that where the heart is not renewed, the 
professed convert, whatever may have been the mode of 
his apparent conversion, will in most cases renounce both 
the practice and the profession of religion. If, however, 
the change is real, its effects will abide, whatever may 
have been the peculiar character of the soul's exercises 
in the earlier operations of grace. Mrs. N 's conver- 
sion, however, was not liable to the objection referred to. 
Her mind had been under the operations of the Spirit for 
nearly a year. Her sense of forgiveness was sudden, but 
the burden of sin had long been borne by her. 

A few weeks after her conversion, Mrs. N applied 

for admission to the church. She was examined both on 
t)ie points of doctrinal difference between Protestants and 
Roman-catholics, and on experimental religion. On the 
former, it was amazing to hear with what fulness and 
accuracy her views were expressed. She believed the 
church of Rome essentially in error or all the funda- 
mental doctrines of Christianity ; and that their mode of 
presenting the gospel was calculated wholly to obscure 
it as a system of grace for lost sinners. Their manner of 



^ MARY ELIZA 

teach- ng regeneration and the method of a sinner's for- 
giveress with God, she deemed especially unscripturaJ 
and destructive. So much was she impressed with the 
belief that the Romanists were entirely astray, that 
when asked by the pastor whether she was willing- to 
receive as baptism the rite as already administered, she 
exclaimed immediately, and with great animation, " Oh, 1 
nmst be baptized ; for I do not consider baptism as admin- 
istered in the Roman-catholic church to be valid." 

On the following Sabbath she and seven others were 
received into the communion of the church, and for the 
first time she now sat down at the table of the Lord, to 
partake of both the bread and the wine, representing our 
Saviour's broken body and shed blood. It was a memo- 
rable day to her, and one that filled her with overflowing 
gratitude to God for his amazing goodness in plucking 
her from the errors and delusions of Popery. " It seems 
an easy thing," she said, a short time afterwards, "for 
Protestants to be converted. They are taught from child- 
hood to know the truth ; but for a Roman-catholic, ah, 
that is a work ! How can they be converted," she con- 
tinued, "when the walls built around them reach even 
to the heavens ? They are not allowed to read the Bible, 
and must take what the priest teaches as the gospel. Nor 
do the priests themselves know any thing of conversion 
by their own experience." 

After connecting herself with the church, Mrs. N 's 

main concern seemed to be "to adorn the doctrine ol 
God hex Saviour in all things." She was not one of 
those who consider a mere creed or profession as the 
essence of religion. She believed that " faith without 
vrorks is dead," and that unless a professor's "lighi 
Bhine,*' there is but poor evidence of his being really a 
Christian. Her regular and serious attendance upon the 
house of God was remarkable ; indeed, she was so punc- 
tual here, that if evei absent from either the week oi 
Sabbath service, it was at once inferred by her fellow- 



MARY ELIZA. 7 

• 

members that she was sick. Nor was hers a mere at- 
tendance ; there was spirit and earnestness and enjoy- 
ment in all her visits to the sanctuary. The writer has 
preached to many attentive and serious hearers ; but he 
recollects never to have seen under his ministry a coun- 
tenance so habitually animated and engaged as that of 

Mrs. N . Religion with her was a reality; it was 

something to be felt, practised, and enjoyed. 

Not long after the events here narrated, the health ol 
the pastor failing, he was compelled to seek a mildei 
climate and almost wholly to relinquish preaching. Un- 
der his brief pastorship in N , the Lord had added 

many to the church " of such as should be saved." Some 
of these he had already watched on their death-beds, and 
followed to the silent tomb. Many such, too, had given 
delightful evidence in the last agonies of nature, tl^at 
they had built upon the Rock, and were soon to be ad- 
mitted into a better world. But from all he was now 
compelled to part; and the parting-scenes were attended 
with weeping and sorrow. Of all that on this solemn 
occasion bade him farewell, no heart was more sensitive, 

and no hand more warm, than those of Mrs. N the 

converted Roman-catholic. She felt, even beyond others, 
that the ministry of her afflicted pastor had been to her, 
by the blessing of the Spirit, a means of incalculable 
good. She loved, she revered him; and the parting was 
severe. 

Some four years afterwards he was permitted to visit 

N . Among others he called on Mrs. N , and 

spent an hour of the most delightful Christian inter- 
course with her that it has ever been his privilege to en- 
joy. Wishing to know more perfectly the entire history 
of her conversion, and also her present state of mind, he 
proposed such inquiries as led her to speak freely and 
fully on the subject. The result was highly satisfac- 
tory; she seemed to be a true believer, and one who had 
made much progress in the divine life. *^ 



8 MARY ELIZA. 

A pleasing evidence of this she furnished in the fol- 
lowing incidents of her history. Hearing that her mother 

was lying dangerously ill in the city of G , she paid 

her a visit. Mr. N could not accompany her, hut 

committed her to a friend who was on a visit of business 
to that city. It so happened, that they arrived by stage 

at W on Saturday evening. The river being low, 

they were compelled to. prosecute their journey still by 
stage. Her friend determined to go on the next day, the 
Sabbath. He proposed it to her; but she positively de- 
clined, saying, "I cannot travel on the Sabbath." He 
urged her with many reasons, assuring her that she was 
over-scrupulous — that as for himself, he was resolved to 
go on, and that her mother might die before she could 
reach her. But all availed nothing; and she remained 
inflexible in her purpose not to violate the Lord's day. 

The next morning she parted with her guide and pro- 
tector, being left a helpless female at a hotel, and entirely 
among strangers. But " she felt," she said, *' the fullest 
assurance possible that God would take care of her in a 
city of strangers, and that she would still have some one 
to be the guardian of her travels." Soon she became ac- 
quainted with some ladies at the hotel who were pious. 
Through these she was conducted to church, where dur- 
ing the day she heard t vo sermons preached, much to 
her edification. It was to her a joyous Sabbath, and her 
soul drew near to God with holy boldness. She felt that 
she was in the line of duty, and the very sacrifices she 
had made only quickened her spiritual joys. 

On Monday morning as she entered the stage, she 
addressed her fellow-passengers thus: "Gentlemen, I am 
a lone female, having been left in this place by my at- 
tendant on account of my unwillingness to travel on the 
Sabbath. If any of you are journeying to the city of 

C , I should be happy to commit myself and baggage 

to your care." Instantly a gentleman on the front scat 
replied, " I am going there, madam, and shall be very 



MARY ELIZA. 

haj)py to render you any service in my power." Upon 
further acquaintance, this gentleman was found to be a 
neighbor and friend of her father and his family. He 

accompanied her, upon their arrival at C , to the 

family residence, having done every thing in his power 
during their journey to» make her comfortable; when 
she found that her mother had been buried three 
days. 

Mrs. N remained with the afflicted family about 

a month, and then returned home, accompanied by one 
of her sisters. Not long after, she herself was taken 
sick. Her Roman-catholic friends now began to enter- 
tain hope of her restoration to their church. She had 
visited the family, had lost her mother, and was herseli 
sick. Her sister was also with her, and that would be 
a good pretext. Many of them called to see her sister, 
and of course some were admitted to the sick-chamber 
She treated them with great kindness. This encouraged 
hope, and very soon one of " the Sisters of Charity " made 

her appearance. Immediately Mrs. N , discovering 

the snare, called her sister, and said to her, "I wish to 
know by whose invitation it is that 'the sister' below 
has called?" " Oh," said her sister, " she heard that you 
were sick, and has called as a matter of friendship." 

"Friendship!" exclaimed Mrs. N ; "you well know 

that no such feeling is felt towards me by the members of 
the Catholic church. They look upon me as an apostate 
and a stumbling-block, and have no good feeling towards 
me. No ; all this is but a secret efibrt to get me back to 
their communion. This, sister, can never be. I am not 
simply a Protestant, but, as I trust, a disciple of the Lord 
Je^us Christ ; my faith being fixed not upon the word of 
man, but of God. I am what I am from thorough con- 
viction; and please assure your friends of the fact. As 
to 'the sister' below, tell her that when I send for her 
she can see me ; but not till then." Thus did this dear 
child of God repel, even alone upon a sick-bed, the eHorts 

13* 



10 MARY ELIZA. 

of her former friends to bring her again under the yoke 
of spiritual bondage. 

Such are the facts in the history of this interesting 
conversion. And what do they teach 1 

1. That the great body of those under the dominion 
of Rome are not only in pernicious, but destructive error. 
Had Mrs. N remained in that communion, the proba- 
bility is, that through her whole life the true gospel would 
have been unknown to her. She would have known about 
confessionals, and masses, and saints, and penances; 
but " Christ, and him crucified," she would never have 
known. And how could it be otherwise? With an 
unconverted priesthood, an interdicted Bible, a misrepre- 
sented gospel, perverted sacraments, and a host of tradi- 
tional observances, how is it possible for the disciple of 
Popery to arrive at the knowledge of the truth? Those 
who expect it, expect the greatest moral improbabilities. 
God works by means ; and the means appointed for con- 
verting men is a preached gospel. Take this away, and 
no gorgeous cathedrals or splendid ceremonial will be of 
any avail. Protestant Christians, therefore, should look 
upon Roman-catholics as they do upon all the world of 
the unconverted, as perishing sinners. So did Paul con- 
sider his brethren the Jews ; and so must we consider 
our brethren the Roman-catholics. 

2. This narrative also teaches that the conversion of 
Rmnan-cathoUcs is not an impossibility. What is chiefly 
needed here is, to bring the gospel, as a system of grace, 
to bear directly upon their hearts and consciences as sin- 
ners. This can seldom be done by newspaper controver- 
sies, public lectures, abusive pamphlets, or any thing of 
this kind. Like all other men, Roman-catholics are*to 
be won by kindness. Indeed, if there be any people that 
ought to be pitied more than others, it is they, especially 
the private members of that communion. Let Protestant 
Christians, then, exercise towards them a proper and wise 
sympathy; let them use the same means for their con- 



MARy ELIZA. ]-[ 

version thai they employ for the conversion of others ; 
let them em^iloy these means in places of business and 
in the domestic circle, and they will soon discover that 
the same gospel which triumphs over the enmity of the 
natural heart elsewhere, is " mighty through God to the 
pulling dotvn of even the strong-holds" of Popery. 

3. Another lesson to be learned from this narrative 
is, that one under religious concern should rest in noth- 
ing shoi'c of a cliange of heart. Regeneration is the soul's 
turning-p^'lnt in its progress to eternity. Before it expe- 
riences this change, all its exercises are carnal and un- 
profitable. After that event its character is changed, 

and it becomes a "new creature." What if Mrs. N , 

with no change of heart, had joined a Protestant church ? 
She would have been in a reformed, instead of the Roman- 
catholic communion; but unless she had experienced the 
quickening of the Spirit, she would have perished as cer- 
tainly in the one case as in the other. It is not union 
with a church that saves us, but union with Christ ; it is 
net repose that our hearts need, but renewal. Before that 
point is reached, every man is still in his sins and exposed 
to the wrath of God. 

4.S We have here also an example of Sahhath observ- 
ance. This convert from Romanism, a mere babe in 
Christ in many respects, felt that she could not in the 
most urgent circumstances travel on the Sabbath-day. 
God had forbidden it, and that to her was enough. She 
might lose her protector — might never see her mother , 
but this moved her not. Her mind was fixed, being 
stayed upon God. Let others be rebuked by this exam- 
ple. The triavel of our country, indeed of the world, is 
greatly increasing ; and if the Sabbath is not strictly ob- 
served by professing Christians, it will soon be trodden 
down and trampled under foot. Many who will not vio- 
late a ivliole Sabbath in this way, will yet desecrate a part 
of the day, by being found in the morning or evening 
train cf cars But the same rule that requires the Sab- 



12 MARY ELIZA. 

bath to be observed at all, requires the observance of the 
ichole clay. "Remember the Sabbath-day^ to keep it 
holy." The command respects not one, but every hour of 
the entire day. 

And now, dear reader, what think you of these 
things ? Have you been born again ? Your first, or nat- 
ural birth connects you with Adam, and places you under 
the curse. You need a second birth to connect you with 
Christ, and bring you under the blessing. Yea, this sec- 
ond birth is as essential to your eternal happiness as the 
first was to your existence. Our Lord himself declares, 
" Ye must be born again." Now, this change is not o 
change of creed, or an amendment of life simply ; nor is 
it cfiected by baptism or the Lord's supper. It is a 
cha7ige of heart wrought in us by the Holy Ghost. Have 
you experienced it ; and can you say as did the blint'. 
man, " One thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now 
I see?" Happy are you, if this be your condition. But 
if not — if like Nicodemus you ask, " How can these 
things be?" — let me assure you that your first concern 
should be to know the subject experimentally, A mere 
doctrinal knowledge of regeneration will not save you ; 
you must have the experience. Your own eyes must be 
enlightened, your own ears unstopped, your own heart 
renewed. You are not to be the physician in your case, 
but the -pcdient. It is not another that is diseased, but 
yourself. Oh lay it to heart. Let your soul's conditio;} 
trouble you ; and never desire to know rest until you fi ad 
it in Christ, and in a sure hope of a blessed immortality. 



Xo. S.'ST. 



THE HAPPY ESCAPE. 



" Mother," said a dying girl in Ireland, " it is a dread- 
fii] thing to die !" 

" It is so, my darling," the mother said, as she gazed 
with tearful eye upon the fading cheek of her child ; "it 
is so, indeed. that I could die in your stead! But 
you have confessed, and why are you still afraid ?" 

" Yes, I have confessed every sin I could remember, 
and I have got absolution, and I shall have the holy oil 
when I'm just at the last, mother; but then I must be in 
thejires of purgatory soon, and you are very poor, mother." 

The parent's quick affection caught the meaning of the 
words and their painful connection. " Ah, sure, I see it 
now," she said ; "true for us, Mary, we are poor ; but I'll 
work these fingers to the bone, but I'll get money for the 
masses and will hasten your passage to heaven. My own 
Mary, namesake of the blessed Virgin, do you think your 
poor lone mother could rest till your soul was safe in 
glory ? No, she will work by day, and pray by night tc 
the Clueen of heaven and all the saints for the peace of 
your soul ; so be easy, my darling, and don't be troubled 
about the masses any more at all." 

" But it will be no peace to my soul to know that you 
have to work hard to get masses said, my own dear 
mother. That's what makes it harder still to die." 

" Yes, but mayhap you'll know nothing about it there, 
darling ; leave that all to the priest now, and say the 
prayers to the Virgin he bade you. That '11 bring peace 
to your heart." 



2 THE HAPPY ESCAPE. 

"No, it is all dark. I want to know where 1 am go- 
ing, and more, a great deal more, than the priest would 
tell me. Mother," she added quickly, "I am thinking 
often of the death-bed of cousin Kathleen. She had no 
absolution, no unction, no masses, but she died so happy." 

"She was a heretic, Mary, and knew nothing at all ; 
so she died in her sins. Better as you are, dying in the 
holy faith of the true church and all her blessed rites, 
even if you don't feel as happy as poor Kathleen." 

" Some words she said come a^^ross me now, mother : 
* Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I will fear np evil ; thy rod ai d thy staff they com- 
fort me.' What did she mean ? I have no comfort, no 
staff. I am trembling in the dark, and see only great 
fires beyond, and am full of fear. Kathleen did not' 
believe in purgatory." 

" Hush, Mary, dear ; sickness and pain have turned 
your mind from the right way : go to sleep, and forget 
her, and trust in the blessed Virgin." 

"Well, mother, I '11 try ; but I can't help thinking it 
must be a happier thing to go straight to heaven at once. 
I wish I could remember all Kathleen said about it." 

" It 's not for the like of us to go straight to heaven at 
once, Mary; we must go the way the church directs." 

" But surely it 's a hard way, mother dear. I often 
fear that some who get into the fires of purgatory may 
never get out again." 

" Now don't be mistrustful of the masses, darling ; but 
if the priest knew all you have been saying, it would go 
hard with me to pay for so many. So now just leave 
thinking about it at all ; and here's Pat will sit by ycu 
a while, till I run to mother and back." 

Pat had come in and overheard part of the conversa- 
tion, and now sat down by his sister's side with a heavy 
heart, for the doctor said she could not recover, and he 



THE HAPPY ESCAPE. 3 

had travelled from another part of the country to see her 
before her death. 

"Mary," said he when their mother had left them 
together, "what was that about cousin Kathleen?" 

" Ah, Pat, I was wishing I could die as happy as she 
did, though it 's true she had neither absolution nor unc- 
tion, and didn't believe in purgatory, but thought she was 
going to heaven at once." 

" But you wouldn't wish to die in error and sin, Mary ?"■ 

" No ; but hush now, and I '11 tell you, Pat, that if 
ever there was an angel on earth, Kathleen was one ; and 
I can't believe that her soul is in hell just because . . . ." 

"Because she believed in the blood and mercies of the 
Lord Jesus Christ?" exclaimed Pat ; " no, Mary, for that 's 
just the reason she had no need to go there at all : and 
as for absolution, she had it ; and ag for unction, she had 
that too." 

" What 's this you 're telling me ? Why, sure she was 
called a heretic, and had no blessing from the hands of 
the church." 

"No, but she got it in a quicker way, straight from 
the hand of the Lord himself. He spoke in her soul, 
Mary, and comforted her with assurance of his pardon 
and love. Do you think she needed any body else to tell 
her, after that ? And she had the true ' unction from the 
Holy One,' and 'knew all things ' that made her wise unto 
salvation; and what need of oils outside, after that?" 

Mary stared upon her brother, with mingled feelings 
of fear and delight ; at last exclaiming, " Sure, brother, 
you 've turned heretic too." 

"Well, never mind that ; I don't care for nicknames, 
at all ; but I 've been reading the Bible, Mary, God's own 
blessed book, full of such words to poor sinners as would 
melt your heart." 

"But how did you get it ? Docs the priest know ?" 



4 THE HAPPY ESSAPE. 

"1 didn't stop to ask liirn, but I got it of a 'reader, 
as he called himself; and he said thut in England every 
man might read the Bible, if he liked ; and that the 
priests — no, not priests — the pastors of the church were 
always delighted to read to the people, out of a poor man's 
own Bible. And I said to myself, 'I 'm a true loyal sub- 
ject of the queen, and why may I not do as her other 
subjects do, and have a Bible of my own ? I will have 
one.' And so I did. You know I was a bit of a scholar 
once, and I read and read ; and some things were so 
pretty and went so quick to the heart, that now I can't 
help reading if I 'm burned for it. But I hav'n't told 
mother yet." 

" Poor mother, it will break her heart," said Mary with 
a sigh ; "but now, Pat, I 'm out of breath with listening 
to you, for longing to know what it is about purgatory 
you 've read in the Bible." 

" Why, just as much as you see in that empty platter, 
and that 's nothing at all ; and I 've searched from one end 
to the other ; so make your heart easy, Mary, for you 
can't go to a place that there isn't in God's creation. You 
shall go, and I '11 promise you on the faith of the holy 
Scriptures, straight to heaven at once, if you '11 only do 
one thing !" 

" What is it, Pat ? 0, what is there I wouldn't do, if 
I could ? Is it to make a ' station V " 

" No, no, not the like of such things as that : but if 
you '11 listen, I '11 read it in the beautiful words that they 
are ;" and drawing from his pocket the precious little vol- 
ume that had enlightened his own soul, the young Irish- 
man read, " ' God so loved the world that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life.* *He was 
wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for oui 
iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, 



THE HAPPY ESCAPE. 5 

and with his stripes we are healed.' Mary, do you think 
the Lord only sufiered by halves, and only. heals by 
halves? 'Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un- 
righteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the 
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God, 
for he will abundantly pardon.' Is it to 'abundantly 
pardon' to make us go and suffer torments in prison for 
a long, long time before giving it to us, Mary ?" 

"Oh, sure, all this is strange to my ear, Pat ; but true 
enough they are beautiful words." 

" Stop, I 've got many a leaf turned down at the like ; 
but it's about purgatory we are looking, and that brings 
us to the pith and marrow of it all. 'Wherefore when 
he Cometh,' that is, when Christ cometh 'into the world, 
he saith. In burnt-offerings and sacrifices for sin thou hast 
had no pleasure ; then said I, Lo, I come to do thy will, 
God. By the which will we are sanctified through the 
offering of the body of Jesus Christ, once for all. And 
every priest standeth daily ministering and offering often- 
times the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. 
But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, 
for ever sat down on the right hand of God. For by 
one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are 
sanctified.' " 

" Them that are sanctified, Pat ; what 's that ? Isn'i 
it to be sanctified that we go to purgatory ?" 

" No : ' For this is the covenant that I will make with 
them after those days, saith the Lord ; I will put my lawf; 
into their mind, and write them in their hearts, and their 
sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.' 
' Now, where remission of these is, there is no more offer- 
ing for sin.' No offering for your own sufferings, my 
Mary ; no masses for our mother to pay for. When the 
blessed Lord was going to be betrayed, before he was 
taken prisoner he prayed for all his people ; and in his 



6 THE HAPPY ESCAPE. ♦ 

prayer he said not a word of going through purgatory, 
nor getting sanctified in any way but one." 

"And what was that ?" 

" He said, ' Sanctify them through thy truth; thy ivord 
is truth.'' St. Paul said, 'Christ loved the church, and 
gave himself for it, that he might sanctify and cleanse it 
by the word.' And again, ' How much more shall the 
blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered 
himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from 
dead works to serve the living God.' And to the Lord's 
people at Thessalonica he said, 'We are bound to give 
thanks always to God for you, brethren beloved of the 
Lord, because God hath from the beginning chosen you 
to salvation, through sanctification of the Spirit and be- 
lief of the truth.' So, Mary, it 's Christ's blood for us, and 
Christ's word in us ; and that's salvation, out and out." 

" Oh, brother, sure you 're sent for a blessing to my 
dying-bed, to tell me these beautiful things ; and all so 
easy and straight, and just as Kathleen used to say. But 
now, what 's the thing I 'm to do, Pat 1 You said if I 'd 
do one thing." 

" Why, then, it 's just this ; ' Having,' as the precious 
word says, 'a High-priest over the house of God,' that 's 
the Lord Jesus, with the one offering of himself once 
offered, 'let us draw near ivith a true hearty i7i full 
assurance of faith' You must believe these beautiful 
things, and that will make them your own. ' Believe in 
the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,' now, at 
once ; 'and being justified by faith, we have peace with 
God through our Lord Jesus Christ;' and then you may 
rejoice in hope, as it says, ' of the glory of God,' for 'being 
justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath 
through him.' Oh, Mary, it's all of a piece ; it's all like 
the word of God, worth loving and obeying for ever. Now, 
can you find it in your heart to trust what God says ?" 



THE HAPPY ESCAPE. 7 

**l'm only afraid it's too good to be true.** 
. " No, it is true, for it 's in the Holy Bible, and God 
has said it. And the reason the priest doesn't believe it, 
is clear too ; for such words go clean to upset his popish 
patchwork of absolution, masses, and purgatory. But, 
Mary, just leave minding what he says, and turn to the 
Lord himself; 'draw near with a true heart, in full as- 
surance of faith.' It 's faith you must get, and not masses, 
Mary. The offering is made, the blood is shed, that must 
wash away all your sins ; so that there is nothing to do 
but to believe in Christ alone." 

"Faith, faith ! what is it ? how shall I get it ?" 

"Oh, but this is a darling of a book, for it tells that 
too. 'It is the gift of God.' ' Now, faith is the substance 
of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' It's 
just believing the Lord, that he says the truth and will 
do as he has promised, before you get the thing promised. 
Surely, Mary dear, you don't think I'd tell you a lie." 

" No, that I do not, the kind brother that you 've been 
to me ; it's the soul of truth you always were.' 

" Then think still higher and better of Christ that died 
for you ; believe what he says, at once. But stay, there 's 
a precious help yet : ' For no man can say that Jesus is 
the Lord, but by the Holy Spirit ;' and he can make you 
believe it all. Ask for him to teach you. ' Ask, and ye 
shall receive ;' for the Saviour says, ' If ye, being evil, 
know how to give good gifts unto your children, how 
much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy 
Spirit to them that ask him.' Oh, if God gives you his 
Holy Spirit — and he will, if you ask him right truly and 
earnestly — then you will see how it is that Jesus, his 
own self, 'is all, and in all,' 'wisdom, righteousness, sanc- 
tification, and redemption,' to poor sinners ; and how He 
who knew no sin, was made ' to be sin for us, that we 
might be made the righteousness of God in him.' And 



8 THE HAPPY ESCAPE 

then, Mary dear, if indeed you must leave us, if you must 
not stay any longer here, you will pass without fear 
through the dark valley, having the staff of truth to lean 
upon; and your happy spirit, 'absent from the body,' 
shall be, for he says it, 'present with the Lord.'" 

"Oh, Pat, Kathleen might well be happy to learn all 
this ; but you must say it all over again when mother is 
not by, for it 's taking the thorns from my dying pillow 
one by one, and I do think I '11 be able to believe it all. 
But what will the priest say ? Perhaps he will curse 
me for a heretic, Pat ;" and she shuddered at the thought. 

" Oh, but it '11 do the most harm to himself then. 
Never fear. Be true, and hold fast by the Lord Jesus and 
his own words, and you need not fear what man can do." 

" And our poor mother, who loves the church and the 
Virgin, and so many saints, and believes in them all." 

" Ah, we must say something now and then out of the 
Bible, that will catch her ear and win her heart; and 
above all, we must pray to God to enlighten her with 
the Holy Spirit, that she may know her darling is safe in 
glory when we are left lonely by the grave-side. Surely 
it's a blessed religion to comfort us all, whether living oi 
dying ; and I only wish the sweet story was told from 
Bally-castle to Cape Clear, till every man and woman 
and child should know that Jesus died for them, and thai 
for his sake God has mercy on them that believe. Oh, 
wouldn't Ireland be the happy land, then ! It 's the gos- 
pel we want ; and then it 's God's word and not mine 
that says, ' Happy is that people that is in such a case , 
yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord.' 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 



IVo. S5S, 



¥H0 ¥OULD NOT PRAY? 



One Saturday evening a clergyman landed at South- 
ampton, from the Cowes steam-packet. As the hour was 
late, he lost no time in inquiring for the public convey- 
ances to Winchester, having engaged to preach for a friend 
in that city on the following morning. To his surprise 
the London night-coach was full ; and although a stage 
would leave Southampton early in the morning, he was 
unwilling to travel on the Sabbath. After some consid- 
eration as to the best course to be pursued under these 
circumstances, he rang the bell for the waiter, and sent 
him for a gig. 

In a short time the waiter reappeared, and announced 
that the vehicle was at the door. Accordingly the clergy- 
man took his seat, and being weary, wrapped his cloak 
around him, and leaned back to compose himself to 
a quiet nap. They had not, however, advanced far on 
the London road, before this injunction of holy writ came 
powerfully on his mind, "Be instant in season, out of 
season." 

This clergyman was here thrown into the company of 
a stranger, and that stranger a servant ; he would only be 
in his society a few hours that evening, and then perhaps 
might never meet him again. It was strongly impressed 
on him, "Be instant in season, out of season." He might 
have thought that his proper season would be in the pul- 
pit, on Sunday morning, for serving God and winning 
souls to Christ: but the work was not to be confined to 
the worship of a Sabbath morning ; it might effectually 
"be done in the journey of a Saturday night ; and God 



2 WHO WOULD NOT PilAYr 

spoke quietly, yet forcibly, within his servant's mind, " Be 
Instant in season, out of season." Accordingly the follow- 
ing conversation took place. 

" What is your name, my good friend ?" 

" My name is John Butler, sir." 

Clergyman. Have you lived long at Southampton, 
John? 

Butler. Yes, sir ; I was born at Southampton, and 
never lived anywhere else. 

C. And have you always been in this business ? 

B. Yes, sir, I was brought up in the stables. 

C. Did you ever go to school, John ? 

B. Yes, sir; my mother sent me to the charity-school 
for a month or two ; but I never took much to my book, 
and so she gave it up ; and after that I went with my 
father into the stable and helped him a little. 

C. I suppose you often read the Bible at school ? 

B. Why, sir, I never learned enough to read much, 
and I quite forget what it was we used to read out of. 

C. But you have heard the Bible read in church, of 
course. Did you never read that book out of which the 
minister reads at church 1 

B. I can't say that I have, sir ; for I don't often go 
there. I've too much to do for that. When a man has 
to get a bit of bread in these hard times, he has to work 
every day, and all the day. Why, sir, I am obliged to be 
out with my horse and chaise all day ; though, to be sure, 
I can't always get hired. Now, when I get back to-night, 
I shall just be able to rub down my horse and give him a 
feed of corn, and then go to bed. And I must clean my 
harness and wash the chaise to-morrow morning ; for per- 
haps somebody will want to go out with it, and I can't 
take people out in a dirty chaise ; they would not like it, 
you know, sir. 

C. Of course not, Butler ; but you could leave the 
harness and chaise till Monday morning, and 



WHO WOULD NOT PRAY? 3 

B. Oh no, sir ; that would be impossible. "Why, what 
would the people say if I should refuse to go out with 
them ? They would say they would not have me any 
more, and then, sir, you know, I should lose all my cus- 
tom ; and what would bt come of my family then ? 

C. You had better offend your customers, than break 
God's commandment to keep holy the Sabbath-day, and 
do no work in it. If you were to refuse those who 
came to hire you, and were to go to church and learn to 
read your Bible, I am sure you would succeed much bet- 
ter in the week, and be a much happier man. 

B. Ah, sir, it is very easy to talk about being religious 
and all that ; but when a man has, as I say, to get his 
bread in these hard times, he cannot keep at home on 
Sundays. 

C. But do you not know that you are sinning against 
God, and breaking one of his commandments, in taking no 
thought of his day, and neglecting his word ? My good 
friend, you have a soul which must very shortly be either 
miserable for ever, or for ever happy ; and if you are not 
careful Do you ever fray to God ? 

B. Pray, sir! I don't know how to pray, or what to 
pray for ; not but what they used to tell me I ought to pray. 

C. Suppose, now, I were to give you a prayer, would 
you always offer it ? 

B. Really, sir, I cannot promise that; I've no time 
for saying prayers ; I 've always too much to do. 

C. Oh, yes, you can ; the prayer I shall give you, you 
can say at all times. When you are in the stable clean- 
ing and feeding your horses ; when you are waiting to be 
hired ; and even when you are driving along the road, you 
can pray the prayer I shall teach you. 

B. "Well, sir, I cannot recollect prayers ; I never had 
a wonderful memory. I am sure I shall not be able to 
say this prayer you talk about. 

C Oh, yes, you will ; for T shall give you a ver) 



4 WHO WOULD NOT PRAY? 

short prayer. There are only ten words in it: "0 God, 
for Christ's sake, give me thy Holy Spirit." 

B. Well, sir, that is short enough, to be sure. Let me 
see ; Avhat is it, sir ? 

C. I shall divide it into three parts for you. Now say 
it after me. "OGod." 

B. "OGod." 

C. "For Christ's sake." 

B. "For Christ's sake." 

C. "Give me thy Holy Spirit." 

B. "Give me thy Holy Spirit." 

C. Now try if you can say the whole. 

B. " God, for Christ's sake, give me thy Holy Spirit.** 

C. Now do you know for what you are to pray? You 
are to say, " God," because he made you, and gives you 
daily your food and clothes, and keeps you alive. If he 
chose, he could this instant take away your breath, and 
then you would immediately die. And he can make you 
happy, and deserves that you should love him, aad has a 
right to your obedience. He will not only take care of 
your body, but will take care also of your soul ; and be- 
cause he loves your soul, he has written the Bible, that 
you might know what to do to be quite happy in this world 
and the next. 

B. Was the Bible written, sir, to make us happy ? 1 
am sure I did not know that. 

C. Yes, Butler, it certainly was ; and the ten com- 
mandments, if you were to obey them, would make you 
perfectly happy. 

B. Ah, sir, those ten commandments ; I 've not obey- 
ed them, you say, and I'm sure no one ever could do all 
they bid us to do. Now I 've heard one of those people 
who go to church always, and read their Bible, and make 
a great many prayers, say, that if we should only irish to 
do wrong, we have broken the commandments. Why, 
sir, it is impossible to keep them so. 



WHO WOULD NOr PRAT? 6 

C. The person who told you that was quite right ; and if 
you pray as I tell you, you will find that he is quite right. 

B. Then I cannot see how we are to be saved, sir. 

C. When God saw that man could not keep the com- 
mandments, he sent Christ into tae world that men might 
be saved, not by the works of tl:e law, for if we offend 
in one point, we are guilty of all ; and though we may 
think that we keep that law, and obey it perfectly, yet 
what is our obedience, our fancied righteousness, in the 
sight of a pure and holy God ? How, then, can we be 
saved ? Not by the works of the law, but by faith in 
Christ — by believing on him, coming to him ; for Christ 
died on the cross to save sinners, and if i^^e believe on him 
tve shall be saved. I wish you also to ask God for the 
Holy Spirit, because this Holy Fpirit will toach you of 
Christ, and will show you how sinful you have been, and 
how necessary it is that you should flee to the cross of 
Christ for salvation ; for, rememl;er, by Christ alone can 
we poor sinners be saved: "There is none othf-r name 
under heaven given among men, whereby we must be 
saved," but the name of Jesus. This Holy Spirit, too, 
will help you to do what is good ; for, as I have told you, 
we are by nature so sinful that we can of ourselves do 
nothing good : it will also make you love your Bible, love 
prayer, and love all that is good. 

B. Well, sir, and why do you say, "For Christ's sake ?" 

C. Because Jesus Christ told his disciples before he 
left this world, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, 
that will I do ; and all things whatsoever ye shall ask in 
prayer believing, ye shall receive." God is displeased 
and angry wdth men on account of their sins ; so much 
BO, that Christ said, " No man cometh unto the Father, 
but by me." Christ is our Friend, and he is God's Son ; 
if therefore we ask God in the name of his Son, he will, 
out of love to his Son, grant us that which we ask him for. 

B. I am very much obliged to you, sir, and shall try 
VOL. xriT. 1 4 



(5 Who \V0UL1> NOT PRAY? 

to say this prayer over and over again, as often as I think 
of it. 

Having thus attempted to satisfy his conscience, the 
clergyman leaned back in the gig, and prayed earnestly 
that the seed he had been scattering in the heart of his 
companion might take deep root there, and bring forth 
abundant fruit to the glory of our Redeemer, and the sal- 
vation of an immortal soul. He knew that there lay in 
the path ten thousand obstacles — long and fixed habits of 
sin, deep ignorance, and the society of evil and ungodly 
men ; but he knew that God's power had converted Paul 
from a persecutor of the church, to one of its boldest 
and most zealous defenders ; and he had himself ex- 
perienced the same power in changing his own heart, and 
giving him a love of Christ and repentance for sins and 
a desire of holiness, when he was a careless sinner. Be- 
sides, God's promise had been given ; and his attribute 
was truth, and his nature was unchangeable. He besought 
him, therefore, by his own name, for his own Son's sake, 
in fulfilment of his promise, that this poor man's prayer 
might be answered, though he offered it almost in igno- 
rance of the purport of its language. In these prayerful 
meditations, this servant of our Lord passed the rest of 
his journey. 

Thus musing, they entered the city of Winchester, 
when John suddenly said, 

" Do you know, sir, that prayer you gave me I 'vc been 
saying a great many times, and I 've got it now quite per- 
fect ; and I 've been determining in my own mind, sir, to 
say it as often as I can." 

C. I am glad to hear you say so, John ; and I have 
been praying for you that you may do so, and that God 
will hearken to your petition, and give you that which 
will make you a more useful, a happier, and a better man 
He will not forget you, John, if you do not forget him 
May He bless you. 



WHO WOULD NOT PRAY? 7 

With these words they parted. 

Several years had passed since the night in which this 
conversation took place, when the clergyman had occasion 
once more to visit Southampton. Passing through one of 
the by-streets, he saw written in large letters over the 
door of a neat-looking house, "John Butler, licensed to let 
gigs, chaises, and saddle-horses." The conversation he 
had held with the driver, on the Winchester road, sud- 
denly crossed his mind; and wondering whether this 
could be the same individual, he walked up to the house, 
and tapping at the door, inquired of a plainly dressed, but 
respectable looking woman, for John Butler. 

" He is not at home, sir, but I think he may be in the 
stable. Johnny, go and see if your father is in the stable, 
and tell him a gentleman wants to speak to him directly : 
make haste, now, as fast as you can." 

The little boy was just running out, in obedience to 
his mother's order, when John Butler came in ; and gaz- 
ing for a moment on the stranger, he then rushed forward, 
and seizing both his hands with most affectionate earnest- 
ness, exclaimed, 

" God bless you, sir, are you not the gentleman 1 drove 
over to Winchester some time ago ? You taught me, sir, 
that short but blessed prayer, '0 God, for Christ's sake, 
give me thy Holy Spirit.'" 

The clergyman answered him, 

"Yes, John, I am; and I hope you found that all I 
said was good, and all I foretold was true." 

B. Oh yes, the Lord bless you, I have, through the 
grace of God. I am now a happy man, sir, and all my 
family, thank God, are happy too ; and all through that 
good advice you gave me, and the prayer you taught mc. 

C. Well, I am glad of that. How did you first become 
really serious, and when did you begin to enjoy religion ? 

B. You shall hear all about it. I used to say this pray- 
er over very often to myself, and said it as you told me, 



8 WHO WOULD NOT PRAY? 

while I was at work, and at all sorts of times. And so I 
went on for some time, till one Sunday it happened 1 
was not hired. I was loitering near the church, and as I 
had nothing to do, I thought I would just go in and see 
what was going on. The prayers, sir, were just over; 
and the minister took this text, " The blood of Jesus Christ 
his Son cleanseth us from all sin." He proved to me how 
great a sinner I was, and that if I was not washed clean 
in Christ's blood, I never could be saved ; and then I be 
gan to think a good deal about my soul. So next Sunday 
I went again, and persuaded my wife to go too ; and ever 
since then we have always gone, and I never afterwards 
went out on a Sunday with any one. I have never found 
that I wanted for bread or clothes ; and my wife will tell 
you how happy we have been ever since. We always 
read a Bible which we have bought, and pray every night 
with our dear children, and God has indeed blessed us, sir. 

His wife joined with him in thanking the clergyman 
for his precious advice, and the sweet little prayer he had 
given her dear husband. 

The clergyman blessed God for his faithfulness, and 
thanked him for his mercy, as the happy little family 
knelt around him, while he addressed the throne of grace 
on their behalf ere they parted. 

Reader, pray this prayer ; and may God grant you 
an answer for the sake of our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. 

WHO WOULD NOT PRAY? 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



THE GRATEFUL CRIMINAL. 

BY REV. JOHN SCUDDER, 

MADRAS, INDIA. 



It is related of the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, that " on one 
occasion he interested himself in behalf of a condemned 
criminal, and had great hope of obtaining his pardon. 
On entering the cell of the condemned man, he threw 
himself at the doctor's feet, and with streaming eyes ex- 
claimed, ' sir, every drop of my blood thanks j^ou, for 
you have had mercy upon every drop of it. Wherever 
you go, I will be yours.' " 

And are such the feelings which were exercised by 
this criminal towards one of his fellow-men for a temporal 
blessing conferred upon him — for obtaining a short pro- 
longation of his forfeited life ? Then what should be your 
feelings, my impenitent friend, towards the adorable Re- 
deemer, who has died that you might obtain eternal life ? 
It cost Dr. Doddridge little suffering to seek a reprieve of 
the condemned criminal ; but to obtain 3'our pardon, to 
deliver you from going down to that place of woe where 
the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched, "heaven 
was emptied of its best, I was almost ready to say, of its 
last gift." It was to save you that Christ came down 
from the world of glory, where thousands ministered unto 
hirn, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before 
him. For your sake he became the babe of Bethlehem, 
and was cradled in a manger. It was for you that his life 
was made a life of sorrow ; for 3'ou he agonized in the 
garden, and sweat as it were great drops of blood. For you 
he trod the valley of Gethscmane, and died on the cross. 
Nothing, nothing but the death of the Son of God could 
satisfy divine justice, as the purchase of your salvation. 



2 THE GRATEFUL CRIMINAL. 

From what I have now said, you may learn of what 
infinite value is your immortal soul. Would the Son of 
God have endured such sufferings, if the soul had not been 
of priceless worth ? But that you may more clearly see 
its infinite value, let me point you to the misery which 
awaits you, should you be eternally lost. And what is it 
to be lost? "It is," as one has observed, '-to have a 
I home in wide perdition, as deep as wide, and desolate as 
deep ; to have the sensibilities alive to racking pain, and 
know that this shall never cease ; to wish annihilation, 
and yet live on, and on, for ever; to gaze eternally on the 
dark firmament of woe, ' and yet never see the star of 
hope arise ;' to spend eternal ages in doleful lamentations, 
without a moment's intermission, and yet know that de- 
liverance will never come ; to be worn and vexed with 
keenest woe, and yet feel that the wrath in ages to come 
is infinitely more than has been endured in ages past. 
To perish? Oh, it is to try and wish, and ever try and 
wish to die, and yet live on and on, in infinite duration. 
It is to sigh, and groan, and weep, and to know that in 
the ages to come, there are sadder sighs, and deeper groans 
and hotter tears." 

To deliver you from this awful, this everlasting tor- 
ment, the Son of God gave up his life, his all for you. 
And if the poor criminal could say, with streaming tears, 
*' 0, sir, every drop of my blood thanks you, for you have 
had mercy upon every drop of it;" how much more should 
you exclaim, " 0, my Saviour, every drop of my blood 
thanks thee, for thou hast had mercy upon every drop of it." 

But let me make a supposition. Let me suppose that 
the criminal who expressed so much thankfulness for the 
kindness which had been shown to him, had expressed no 
thankfulness at all, or had even treated the tidings with 
lightness and contempt, would you not almost involuntarily 
have exclaimed, " What an ungrateful wretch ?" You, my 
impenitent friend, have been told that the Saviour not 
only endured the most aggravated sufferings, but that he 
gave up his very life to procure you a release from ctcr- 



THE GRATEFUL CRIMINAL. 3 

nal burnings. And have you never entertained any feel- 
ings of thankfulness for such a favor ? It you have not, 
might I not well exclaim, ''What an ungrateful wretch 
arc you, to treat your Saviour thus?" Could I use any 
milder language to express the enormity of such guilt ? 

The work of redemption is of all works the greatest 
which God ever performed. When contemplating it, even 
the angelic host have been lost in wonder and astonish- 
ment. " how do all the miracles of Egypt and the 
marvellous acts in the field of Zoan, all that the Jewish 
annals have recorded, or the human ear heard, dwindle 
into trivial events, when compared with this mystery." 
And have the angels, who needed no redemption, been 
lost in w^onder and astonishment at what Christ has done 
for your salvation? What then must be their feelings, 
when they see you as regardless of the Saviour as if he 
had never come into this world on the errand of mercy ; 
as neglectful of securing an interest in him, as if there 
were no hell, no lake of fire and brimstone, into which 
you are moment by moment in danger of falling. And 
when those hol}^ beings see the efforts which are also put 
forth from time to time for your salvation, but which are' 
all resisted ; especially when they see the ministers of 
the gospel running as it were between you and the awful 
abyss which lies before you, and hear how earnestly they 
entreat you not to destroy yourself, but entreat you to no 
purpose, to what a height must theu' wonder and aston- 
ishment rise. 

And if you, over whom so many even of the tears of 
the Redeemer have been shed, should be lost, how myste- 
rious will your conduct appear to j^ourself. When the 
prison of despair shall have closed its doors upon j^ou, 
and when an eternity shall be given you for reflection, 
with what horror will you look back upon the maddening 
course which yoM pursued while in this world. How 
overwhelmingly awful will the thought be, that you wad- 
ed down to destruction as it were through the very blood 
of the Son of God. Ah, it is this thought, the thought 



4 THE GRATEFUL CRIMINAL. 

that you dipped your unhallowed feet in the blood of the 
Lamb, -which will then tear your heart in pieces, and 
make' you cry out with wild amazement; and it is this 
ihought that will be for ever furnishing new food to the 
worm which dicth not, and which will be adding fresh 
fuel to the fire which is never to be quenched. Alas, alas, 
that it should be so. "0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how 
often would I have gathered thy children together, even 
as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye 
would not." methinks, my impenitent friend, that if 
any thing on earth could melt your hard heart, it would 
be the sight of the Son of God in tears, the Son of God in 
tears for you. By these tears I entreat you; by the so- 
lemnities of your dying hour, which is just at hand; by 
the awful realities of the judgment-day, and of that eter- 
nity which is before you ; by all the joys of heaven, and by 
all the agonief» of the damned, I entreat you, that you will 
give up this vain world as your portion, repent of all your 
sins, and dedicate yourself to your Saviour in a covenant 
never to be broken. 

And now, what will you do ? Heaven and hell are 
before you — heaven with all its enjoyments, and hell with 
its lake of fire. Which will you choose ? Will you ''drop 
the world to catch at hoaven," or will you go down to 
hell, and "wear out eteriial ages in contending with the 
vengeance of an angry G'^d?" Come to some conclusion, 
I entreat you, at once, a3 to what you will do. If ypu 
intend to choose heaven, choose it now. To-morrow you 
may not have the opportanity of making a choice. For 
aught you know, you may then be lifting up your eyes iu 
torments, viewing heave i irrecoverably lost. Yea, even 
before to-morrow, your everlasting wail, your everlasting 
lament, may be begun. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 560. 

TAMO, THE NESTORIAN PRISONER. 



More than ten years ago, says Rev. Mr. Stoddard, a 
mountain Nestorian, a young man of decided talents, but 
passionate and self-willed, was made a teacher in the 
male seminary at Ooroomiah. He often disappointed our 
hopes, and occasioned us much anxiety, until the memora- 
ble revival of 1846, which was the dawn of a new and 
blessed period for the Nestorians. It had been some days 
in progress, and hardly any of our pupils were left un- 
moved, when I ventured to call Tamo to my study, and 
expostulate with him on his stupidity and recklessness. 
I was prepared for a repulse, and even expected it. But 
the lime had come for the strong man to bow. The 
arrow of conviction pierced his soul, and he fell pros- 
trate to the earth. It was affecting to look on that man 
of iron frame, for days together trembling like an aspen, 
and his knees smiting together, as he saw the curses of 
the law hanging over his head. 

One day he came to my room, bowed down under his 
burden. Covering his face with his hands, he remained 
some time unable to speak. At last, in agony of spirit, 
and his voice choked by emotion, he cried out, " Lost, lost, 
LOST." I never shall forget that scene. I pointed him to 
Calvary. I told him of a Saviour who would pardon all 
his sins, and love him with an everlasting love. He bent 
forward to listen. He caught the sound with joy. The 
struggle was over. New emotions were waked up in his 
soul. Light broke in upon him, and he became a fol- 
lower of Jesus, an heir of glory. how blessed was the 
change! He became a consistent, humble Christian, fer- 
vent in prayer, and incessant in labor. Often the midnight 
hour has found him on his knees, pleading like him who 
said, " I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." We 
have had much occasion to rejoice over his labors with 



2 TAMO; THE NESTORIAN PRISONER. 

our pupils in the seminary, especially in times of revival. 
It vv^ould have moved and melted any Christian's heart 
to see him begging those hardened in sin to come to the 
Saviour, watching over the lambs of the flock, and bring- 
ing any who had strayed, back again to the fold. 

During the persecuting career of the Nestorian Patri- 
arch in 1848, Tamo was called to suffer for the sake of 
Christ. He was fined and anathematized ; but he bore all 
meekly, and had grace to pray for his bitterest enemy. 

As a preacher, he has become much distinguished. 
We have a number of pious helpers, who wield with 
much effect the sword of the Spirit, but perhaps Tamo 
excels them all, especially when aroused during seasons 
of revival. "While I was in America, Mr. Perkins, after 
dwelling in a letter to me on the very powerful work of 
grace in progress at that time, 1849, adds, "Tamo last 
night would have afforded a most affecting sight for the 
painter, the tears running down his cheeks, and he raising 
his voice so as to be heard amid the sobs, and often wiping 
the tears and the sweat from his face, while he poured 
forth a torrent of overpowering eloquence." This is the 
man who five years before was an outcast, begging his 
way along from Persia to Jerusalem. How wonderful 
the grace of God I 

When the Gawar station was formed in the moun- 
tains, we consented to give up the services of Tamo in 
the seminary, that he might aid in that new enterprise. 
Being a native of Gawar, and having a perfect acquaint- 
ance with the habits and feelings of the people, it was 
thought by us all that he was peculiarly qualified to be a 
successful pioneer there. On his leaving, as 1 observed 
that he looked sad, and that he seemed to shrink from the 
trial of a removal from the seminary, I gave him a few 
words of encouragement, and bade him go " strong in the 
Lord, and in the power of his might." The idea that the 
field was a new one, that he was to " preach the gospel 
in the regions beyond," and that by the grace of God he 
might "magnify his office" there, and spread the blessed 



TAMO. THE NESTORIAN TRiSONER. 3 

light over all the mountains and through all the valleys 
of Koordistan, seemed to change his feelings from de- 
spondency to joy, and he bade us farewell with pleasant 
anticipations. How little did any of us realize that bonds 
and affliction so soon awaited him. All who are ac- 
quainted with our mission, have read the story of his 
outrageous seizure la.st summer by Turkish soldiers ; of 
his being dragged a prisoner to Bashkallah ; of his labor- 
ing there in chains, making bricks under a burning sun, 
and almost killed by cruel treatment ; of Col. Williams' 
noble efforts to procure his release; of his removal from 
Bashkallah to Van, and of the firmness and meekness 
with which he has endured for eight months this dis- 
tressing confinement. In a letter which I have recently 
received from him, he writes, 

"That letter of yours in English has reached me. I 
read it very easily, and understood every thing that was 
written in it. The words were very comforting. You told 
me how pious men in former times received bonds and 
distresses; how Joseph, and Jeremiah, and Daniel, and 
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and Paul, and Peter, 
and John, and also our beloved Saviour himself, received 
these afflictions. These words about the righteous men 
of old are very pleasant and comforting to me. But I am 
not worthy to receive them, for I have much offended 
Him that is just and true. But yet his great grace still 
receives and blesses those who have offended him. He 
has given a great price to deliver poor criminals from the 
sword of the executioner. He has bought them off from 
dreadful death by a ransom so large that no arithmetic 
can by any means measure it. He jDuts them with his 
sons at a table furnished with the food of kings, and he 
clothes them in shining garments, that glisten as the sun. 

"I remember the day well when you and I, in that 
little upper room, prayed those jirayers full of weeping 
and joy. I know well that they were accepted by Him 
who hears all the prayers of his servants, and brought a 
blessinjT on iornorant and worthless me ; so that I could 



4 TAMO, THE NESTORIAN PRISONER. 

lay hold of His hand who is our faithful Shepherd, with 
true heart and pure conscience, the hand of Him who is 
equal in glory with the Father." He proceeds to speak 
of doubts and fears that had agitated his mind, and the 
discipline that his heavenly Father had seen fit to lay 
upon him. He records that a soldier of the Sultan, sleeping 
before the door of his house, having been killed by thieves, 
he was seized as the murderer; was "delivered into the 
hands of merciless men, who put a chain on his neck, 
and a chain on his foot, and carried him first to Bashkallah 
and then to Yan," where he was imprisoned, tormented, 
and beaten ; and when life seemed almost expiriRg, he 
was seized with fever. He adds, 

"In my misery I prayed thus: '0 God, thou hast 
afflicted me, and I am afflicted. I bless thee for this 
great distress. Thou didst see evil in me, and on that 
account thou hast brought me into these troubles. Thou 
seest, Lord, that I have no friends, no relatives, no one 
to care for me except thee. God, I am a prisoner. 
God, I am a stranger. God, I am sick. Have mercy 
on me, King of kings. Turn from thy anger. Take 
away the rod of thy wrath. Be reconciled to me for His 
sake who sits at thy riglit hand.' Thus I prayed with 
many tears. 

" Glory be to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost, that he quickly heard me. He did not sufler 
my disease to continue long. After eighteen days I re- 
covered entirely. He turned to me in mercy. He sent 
me skilful and merciful friends to do every thing I 
needed. It seems to me that all the Mussulmans around 
me have become my friends. I hope also the Pasha him- 
self will become my friend. .All this mercy is from God,'- 
who can do every thing he pleases. I am very grate- 
ful to all my friends who have cared for me. But more 
than all, I am grateful to God, who has treated me so 
kindly." 



PUBLISHED DY THE AMI:RICAN TllACT SOCIETY 



No. 561. 



<«i 



IT IS TEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO," 



Where Avill you be when, in reference to the scenes 
of the present world, you will have to utter these words ? 
"Ten thousand years'." how vast such a duration I So 
many years have not passed since our first parents were 
created. You have lived but a few short years, yet a 
period will come when you shall have lived thus long in 
bliss or woe. 

Survey the present world. How brightly shines its 
sun. How fair and lovely are the bloom and verdure of 
spring, the richness of summer, and the abundance of au- 
tumn. How glorious the splendors of the noonday, and 
the softer splendors of a starlight night. What will all 
this be to you when you may say, " I saw that sun with 
pleasure, and that starry firmament. Spring, summer, and 
autumn I welcomed with delight; but it was ten thousand 
years ago, that, for the last time, I beheld earth, sun, and 
moon, and saw the changing seasons pass along." 

Think of the charms of domestic life, a mother's fond- 
ness, and a fathers affection. Think of the marriage union, 
with all its tender anxieties, and all its pleasures ; of the 
friendly fireside, of the social home, where the weary 
rested and comfort dwelt. All has long ago ended. Of 
every domestic delight and anxiety you may say, "It is 
ten thousand years since I left my long-loved home to 
enter it no more, since I formed one of an affectionate circle 
there, smiled when they smiled, and sorrowed when they 
wept. The last of those smiles was lighted up, and the 
last of those tears was dropped, ten thousand years ago." 

Think of the scenes of public agitation, the strife of 
parties, the tumult of nations. All will long have ceased, 
and events that now agitate millions will be faintly remcni- 



2 "IT IS TEN THOUSAND YEARS AQO." 

bered, and utterly disregarded, while of each it may be 
said, "It is ten thousand years ago." 

Think of the day of death. You have to die. Your 
heart must throb for the last time, and your spirit struggle 
with the agonies of dissolving nature. After this you will 
lie a lifeless corpse, and soon, among the ruins and silence 
of the grave, be quite forgotten. Ages M'ill roll along, but 
at length will come the period when you may say, " It is 
ten thousand years since I lay languishing in pain on the 
bed of death, since the last struggle came, and my spirit 
quitted its earthly tabernacle till the resurrection morning. 
That hour, so long dreaded, has long gone by ; even my 
dying hour is now ten thousand years ago." 

The solemnities of eternal judgment are now before 
you. " The Lord himself will descend from heaven." 
"The heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the 
elements shall melt with fervent heat," Before the King 
" will be gathered all nations," and he will pronounce the 
final doom of all. At length that great day will close. 
Eternity will roll along till you will have to exclaim, even 
of the judgment-day, " It is ten thousand years ago. Ten 
thousand years ago I stood before the Judge's awful bar ; 
I heard him welcome the blessed, and doom the lost to 
utter misery. I heard the triumphant anthems of the 
saved, and the shrieks and M'^ailings of the condemned. 
Ten thousand years have passed since the Judge left his 
judgment-throne, and ascended with his saints to heaven, 
and since the dark prison of despair closed for ever on all 
his foes." 

The sincere Christian may apply these solemn consid- 
erations to the trials of the spiritual pilgrimage. Is your 
heart right with God ? Is your soul committed to the 
Saviour's care, and your heart unfeignedly consecrated to 
him ? If so, you are a Christian, and doubtless are ac- 
quainted with a Christian's trials. But what will these 
appear at that solemn period to which your thoughts are 



IT IS TEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO. 3 

here directed ? " Ten thousand years ago I was a wan- 
derer in that world of my nativity. Amidst its snares and 
delusions I struggled after Christ. Many were my con- 
flicts, many my doubts and fears, many were my sorrows, 
though many my comforts. Often did I mourn the imper- 
fections I felt in all I was, and saw in all I did. Often 
did I deplore the evil I felt within, and sorrow for the 
ravages of sin I witnessed all around. But all has long 
since ceased. Ten thousand years have hasted by since 
I ended my last conflict, endured my last sorrow, and strug- 
gled with my latest foe. A hundred centuries have passed 
since I left the church below, but they have known no 
fear, no pain, no conflict. My latest grief, my latest toil, 
was ten thousand years ago." 

If you are not a sincere disciple of the Saviour, if you 
love the world, it will leave you, and the period will come 
when you may look back upon it as the scene of your sin 
and folly ten thousand years before. Oh, what is the con- 
dition of a sinful and ruined, but immortal being, that has 
to exclaim, " 1 had sabbaths, but the last departed unim- 
proved ten thousand years ago, and then ended the last 
of numerous privileges that might have led me to the Giver 
of immortal life. The Spirit long strove with me, but for 
ten thousand years has ceased to strive. The Father 
long pitied me, but the last rejected ofler of his pity was 
ten thousand years ago. The Saviour had compassion on 
me, and proffered heavenly blessings to me, but the last 
proffer of his salvation I rejected, and the last has ended 
for ten thousand years. Christians prayed for me, though 
1 prayed not, but the last prayer offered for me was ten 
thousand years ago, and even that was in vain." 

When that solemn period comes, where will you have 
spent those ten thousand dejDarted years ? AYill it have 
been amidst the brightness and blessedness of heavenly 
joy, or the gloom and darkness of despair? Will you long 
have praised redeeming love with the triumphant spirits 



4 "IT IS TEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO." 

of the just ? or long have bewailed and cursed the sin and 
madness of irreligion in the prison of the lost? 

When the pains and pleasures of mortal life shall thus 
long have ended, w^hen its losses and its riches shall have 
long passed away; when thus, if you are a child of God, 
ten thousand years of the unbroken calm of heaven shall 
have succeeded the feverish dream of life; or, if you are 
destitute of the Saviour's grace, ten thousand years of 
wailing and despair shall have followed your few vain 
moments of worldly pleasure, what will then be your 
prospects ? Eternity is stamped upon them all, whatever 
be their nature. Eternity I Eternity I Life or death to 
eternity I heaven or hell to eternity! The love or the 
wrath of Jehovah to eternity ! All the riches of salvation, 
or all the poverty of utter ruin, to eternity ! And in eter- 
nity a period will arrive when the language on which we 
have meditated will be inexpressive ; when ten thousand 
years will bear no more proportion to the immense dura- 
tion that will have elapsed since you left the world, than 
a moment bears to all those years ; when events that took 
place ten thousand years before, will seem but at the dis- 
tance of the twinkling of an eye, compared with the mighty 
ages that you will have spent in bliss or woe. Then, 
instead of having to say, " It is ten thousand years since I 
left the world, since I felt my last sorrow, or enjoyed my 
last delight," you will have to exclaim, " Years, countless 
as the sands that formed the bed of earth's oceans, have 
departed since heaven became my home, and still eternal 
day fears no eclipse ;" or, " Years, numberless as the drops 
that formed those oceans, have rolled away since hell be- 
came my prison, and still the gloom of eternal night admits 
no ray of cheering hope." 0, this is no fiction, but solemn 
truth, for God's holy word affirms that eternal life or eter- 
nal punishment awaits every human being. Flee there- 
fore to Jesus, and be blessed for ever. 

rur.LISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



THE 

CHRISTIAN'S GREAT INTEREST 

BY REV. WILLIAM GUTHRIE, A, D. 1GC5. 



CluEST. "What is the great business a man has to do 
in the world ? 

Ans. To make sure of a saving interest in Christ 
Jesus, and to walk suitably thereto. 

d. Have not all men in Christian lands a savinjnr in- 
terest in Christ ? 

A. No, verily ; yea, but few of them have it. 

d. How shall I know if I have a saving interest in Him ? 

A. Ordinarily the Lord prepares his own way in the 
soul by a work of humiliation, and discovers a man's sin 
and misery to him, and exercises him so therewith, that 
he longs for the Physician Christ Jesus. 

Q,. How shall I know if I have a true discover}- of my 
sin and misery ? 

A. A true sight of it makes a man take salvation to 
heart above any thing in the world; it makes him dis- 
claim all relief in himself, even in his best things; it 
makes Christ, who is the Redeemer, very precious to the 
soul; it makes a man stand in awe of sin afterwards, and 
makes him willing to be saved on any terms God pleasgs. 

Q,. By what other ways may I discern a saving inter- 
est in Him ? 

A. By the going out of my heart seriously and aflec- 
tionately towards him as he is held out in the gospel ; 
and this is faith, or believing. 

d. How shall I knoAV if my heart goes after him 
aright, and that my faith is true saving faith ? 



2 THE CHRISTIAN'S GREAT INTEREST. 

A. Where the heart goes out aright after him in true 
and saving faith, the soul is pleased with Christ alone 
above all things, and is pleased with him to rule and in- 
struct as well as to save, and is content to cleave to him, 
whatever inconveniences may follow. 

(ol. What other mark of a saving interest in Christ 
can you give me ? 

A. He that is in Christ savingly is a new creature, he 
is graciously changed and renewed in some measure — 
in the whole man and in all his ways pointing towards 
all the known commandments of God. 

d. But what if I find sin now and then prevailing 
over me ? 

A. Although every sin deserves everlasting vengeance, 
yet if you be afflicted for your failings, confess them with 
"shame to God, resolve to strive against them honestly 
from henceforth, and flee to Christ for pardon, you shall 
obtain mercy, and your interest stands sure. 

(d. What if I do not partake of those special commu- 
nications of God, and actings and outgoings of his Spirit, 
of which gracious people are often speaking ? 

A. The promises of life and of peace with God are 
nowhere in Scripture made unto those special outpourings 
of the Spirit ; the promises are made unto faith, followed 
by holiness ; and it may be presumed that many heirs of 
glory do not in this life partake of some of these things, 
but are, "through fear of death, all their lifetime subject 
to bondage." We may seek after them, but God is free 
to give or withhold them. 

Q,. What shall the man do who cannot lay claim to 
Christ Jesus, nor any of those marks spoken of? 

A. Let him not take rest until he make sure to him- 
self a saving interest in Christ. 

Q.. In what way can a man make sure of an inter- 



THE CHRISTIAN'S GREAT INTEREST. 3 

est ill Christ, who never had a saving interest in him 
hitherto ? 

A. He must take his sins to heart, and his great haz- 
ard thereby; he must take to heart God's offer of pardon 
and peace through Christ Jesus, and heartily close with 
God's offer, by betaking himself to Christ the blessed 
refuge. 

Q.. What if my sins be singularly heinous and great? 

A. Whatever thy sins be, if thou wilt close with 
Christ Jesus by faith, thou shalt never enter into con- 
demnation. 

Q,. Is only faith in Christ required of men ? 

A. Faith is the only condition upon which God offers 
peace and pardon unto man; but be assured, faith, if it 
be true and saving, will not be alone in the soul, but will 
be attended with true repentance, and a thankful study of 
conformity to God's image. 

Q,. How shall I be sure my heart accepts God's offer, 
and doth close with Christ Jesus ? 

A. Go make a covenant expressly, and by word speak 
the thing to God. 

a. What way shall I do that ? 

A. Set apart some portion of time, and having con- 
sidered your own lost estate and the remedy offered -by 
Christ Jesus, seek to be pleased with, and close with 
that offer, and say unto God expressly that you do accept 
of that offer and of him to be your God in Christ, and 
do give up yourself to him to be saved in his way, with- 
out reservation or exception in any case, and that you 
henceforth will wait for salvation in the way he hath 
appointed. It is proper that men should, before the Lord* 
acknowledge their low state in themselves, and the relief 
that is by Christ ; and that they declare that they accept 
of the same as it is offered in the gospel, and thankfully 



4 THE CHRISTIAN'S GREAT INTEREST. 

rest satisfied with it, trusting themselves henceforth 
wholly unto God, to be saved in his way, for v/hich they 
wait according to his faithfulness. 

Gl. What if I break with God afterwards ? 

A. You must resolve in his strength not to break 
with him, to watch over your own way, and put your 
heart in his hand to keep it; and if you break, you must 
confess it to God, and judge yourself for it, and flee to 
the Advocate for pardon, and resolve to do so no more ; 
and this you must do as often as you fail. 

dl. How shall I come to full assurance of my interest 
in Christ, so that it may be above controversy ? 

A. Learn to lay your weight upon the blood of Christ, 
study purity and holiness in all manner of conversation, 
and pray for the witness of God's Spirit, and his testi- 
mony added to these will establish you in the faith of an 
interest in Christ. 

Q,. What is the consequence of such closing with God 
in Christ by heart and mouth ? 

A. Union and communion with God, all good here, 
and his blessed fellowship in heaven for ever afterwards. 

a. Wliat if I slight all these things, and do not lay 
them to heart to put them in practice ? 

A. The Lord cometh with his angels, in flaming fire 
to render vengeance to them who obey not this gospel ; 
and thy judgment shall be greater than the judgment of 
Sodom and Gomorrah; and so much the greater that 
thou hast read these pages, for they shall witness against 
thee- in that day. 



PUBLISHKD BV THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 563. 



All 1 cnriisT's? 

BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 
Ye shall know them by their fruits." Matt. 7 : 16. 



Some godly persons may be ready to say, that if they 
judge themselves by their practice, or the fruits of their 
own life, they must condemn themselves, for they fail so 
much and so frequently, and are so often wandering out 
of the way, that at times it scarcely seems that they can 
be the children of God. To such I would say, that per- 
sons who try themselves by their practice, may find that 
they greatly fail every day, and are often wandering out 
of the way, and yet they may really see no just cause in 
their practice to condemn themselves as not true Chris- 
tians. For when we speak of a life of Christian practice, 
and when the Scriptures speak of the course of life as 
Christian, the meaning is not, that the life is a perfect 
and sinless life. On the contrary, a Christian's life may 
be attended with many and exceeding great imperfections, 
and yet be a holy life, or a truly Christian life. It may 
be such a life as clearly and even necessarily to show 
that the grace which the individual has, is of the kind 
which has a tendency to holy practice. His fruits may 
be such as to be good evidence of the good nature of the 
tree, and his works such as to show his faith. And if 
you ask for still further light, then I would say, whatever 
your imperfections and failings may be, examine yourself 
whetlicr you find the following evidences of your grace 
being of that kind which tends to holy practice. 



2 AM I CHRIST^S? . 

1. Has your supposed grace such influence as to render 
those things in which you have failed of holy iiractice 
loathsome, grievous^ and humhling to you ? Has it such 
influence in your mind as to render your past sinful prac- 
tices hateful in your eyes, and has it led you to mourn 
before God for them? And does it render those things 
in your conduct that since your supposed conversion have 
been contrary to Christian practice, odious in your eyes ? 
And is it the great burden of your life, that your practice 
is no better? Is it really grievous to you that you have 
fallen, or do fall into sin ; and are you ready, after the 
example of holy Job, to abhor yourself for it, and repent 
in dust and ashes, and like Paul to lament your wretch- 
edness, and pray to be delivered from sin as you would 
from a body of death ? 

2. Do you carry about luith you habitually a dread of 
sin? Do you not only mourn and humble yourself for 
sins that are past, but have you a dread of sin for the 
future ? And do you dread it because in itself it is evil, 
and so hurtful to your own soul, and offensive to God ? 
Do you dread it as a terrible enemy that you have often 
suffered by, and feel that it has been a grievous thing to 
you heretofore ? And do you dread it as something that 
has hurt and wounded and stung you, so that you would 
sec it no more ? Do you stand on your watch against it, 
as a man would keep watch against something that he 
dreads with such a dread as led Joseph to say, " How can I 
do this great wickedness, and sin against G od ?" Gen. 39:9. 

3. Are you se7zsible of the beauty and 'pleasantness of 
the icays of holy practice? Do you see the beauty of 
holiness, and the loveliness of the ways of God and 
Christ ? It is said in the text, that " charity rejoiceth in 
the truth;'' and it is given as the character of the truly 
godly, that " he rejoiceth and worketh righteousness," 
which is the same as saying that " he rejoices to work 
righteousness." And how often docs the psalmist speak 



AM I CHRIST'S? 3 

of the law of God as being his delight, and of his love to 
the divine commandments. 

4. Da you find that you do 'particularly esteem and de- 
light in those practices that 7nay, by way of eminence^ he 
called Christian practices, in distinction from mere world- 
ly morality ? By Christian practices are meant such as 
are implied in a meek, humble, prayerful, self-denying, 
self-renouncing, heavenly walk and behavior. Some of 
the heathen have been eminent for many of the moral 
virtues, and wrote excellently about them, as for example, 
of justice and generosity and fortitude ; but they were 
far from a Christian poverty of spirit and lowliness of 
mind. They sought their own glory, and gloried exceed- 
ingly in their outward virtues, and seemed to know noth- 
ing of such a walk as the gospel commands, a walk of 
self-emptiness and poverty of spirit, and self-distrust and 
self-renunciation, and prayerful reliance on God. They 
were strangers to meekness, and did not allow or even 
dream that the forgiveness and love of enemies was a 
virtue. Such virtues as these are peculiarly Christian 
virtues, and Christian by way of distinction and eminence, 
and of these it is that I ask, if you hold them in special 
esteem for your Saviour's sake, and because they are 
fraught with his Spirit? If you are essentially distin- 
guished and different in your spirit from the mere moral- 
ist, or the heathen sage or philosopher, you will have a 
spirit of special esteem for and delight in these virtues 
that especially belong to the gospel. 

5. Do you hunger and thirst after a holy practice? Do 
you long to live a holy life, to be conformed to God, to have 
your conduct day by day better regulated, and more spirit- 
ual, more to God's glory, and more such as becometh a 
Christian ? Is this what you love, and pray for, and long 
for, and live for? This is mentioned by Christ as belong- 
ing to the character of true Christians, that they " hunger and 
thirst after righteousness." Does this trait belong to you ? 



4 AM I CHRIST'S? 

C. Do you make a business of endeavoring to live holib/, 
and as God icoidd have you^ in all re'^pccis ? Not only 
can you be Baid to endeavor after holiness, but do you 
make a business of endeavoring after it? Is it a matter 
that lies with weight upon your mind. A true and faith- 
ful Christian does not make holy living a mere incidental 
thing, but it is his great concern. As the business of the 
soldier is to fight, so the business of the Christian is to be 
like Christ, to be holy as he is holy. Christian practice 
is the great work that he is engaged in, just as the race 
was the great work of the racers. Is this so with you ? 
And is it your great aim and love to keep all God's com- 
mandments, and so far as known, to neglect none ? " Then," 
says the psalmist, "I shall not be ashamed when I have 
respect unto all thy commandments." Is this your serious, 
constant, and prayerful aim, that you may be faithful in 
every known duty ? And once more, 

7. Do you greatly desire that you may knoiv all that is 
your duty ? And do you desire to know it that you may 
do it ? With the patriarch Job, can you and do you pray 
to the Almighty, "That which I see not, teach thou me ;" 
adding, as he added, to the great Searcher of hearts, " If 
1 have done iniquity, I will do no more ?" 

If you can honestly meet these tests, then you have 
the evidence that your grace is of the kind that tends to 
holy practice, and to growth in it. And though you may 
fall, through God's mercy you shall rise again. He that 
hath begun a good work in you, will carry it on until the 
day of Jesus Christ. Though you may be at times faint, 
yet if pursuing, you shall be borne on from strength to 
strength, and kept by the power of God, through faith, 
unto salvation. 

From President Edwards' "Charity and its Fruits."' 



rUBLlSHKD r.V THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. .564. 

EXAMPLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS 

IN PRAYER, 



THE HISTORY OF THE PAST,- BEFORE THE 
VAIL WAS ACTUALLY RENT. 



FIRST DAY— ABRAHAJrS PRAYERS. 

The first full-length prayer recorded is Abraham's 
touching plea in behalf of Sodom, Gen. 18 : 22-33. Sec 
in it the characteristics of acceptable prayer . 

A sinner feels he is "but dust and ashes," deserving 
" anger," not favor. 

A sinner owns the sovereignty of God, and power of 
God, while appealing to his bowels of compassion. 

The sinner stands before God, believing in the prom- 
ised Savioiii- — no other warrant. 

The sinner, full o£ faith, thr-t is, resting wholly on 
Messiah, is ^^tlie friend of God ^ God meets him, and 
stays to hear what he has to say. 

This believing sinner yearns over perishing souls. 

He perseveringly urges requests in behalf of the per- 
ishing. 

Then we find, chapter 19:27-29, he loolvcd after hif' 
prayers, and found results. 

Men of faith, be men of prayer. A world is per- 
ishing. Our country needs it. The churches of Christ 
need it. The Jews need it. The heathen need it. The 
victims of popery need it. Some at your very door need 
It. And surely there would be results. 

SECOND DAY— JOB'S PRAYERS. 

\Ve find Job referred to by Ezckiel as a man of prayer. 
In Job 1 : 5, hear him praying at the atoning altar for 
VOL. xiii 15 



^^^^'< Of /^^ 



JL(; ..•.-,'5 



2 EXAMPLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS 

his family. And " thus did Job continually ^ 0, for sucli 
fathers. Our families need this. 

Hear him in affliction, how he breathes out his sub- 
missive soul: "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away; blessed be the name of the Lord." Job 1 ; 21. 
Let us pray for such a spirit to all who are afflicted. 

Listen to his cry in 7 : 20, 21 : "I have sinned; what 
shall I do unto thee, thou Preserver of men ?" Is not 
his eye lifted up to the Lord the Saviour, asking to be 
shown why he has a controversy with him ? Shall not 
we do so too ? for success is sure. 

His friend Bildad teaches us that earnest prayer has 
prosperous results : " Surely now he would aAvake for 
thee." Job 8 : 5-7. And Eliphaz reckons it no common 
sin to restrain prayer before God. Job 15:4. Let us 
confess past sin in this respect. 

Job would have used better than we our knowledge 
of the God-man^ our Intercessor. " Oh," says he, " that 
one might plead for a man with God, as a man plead eth 
for his neighbor." Job IG : 21. He and his friends knew 
the profit of prayer. " He shall pray unto God, and He 
will be favorable unto him, and he shall see His face 
with joy." Job 22 : 23-30 ; 33 : 26. 

See how God had taught his praying servant : " I have 
heard of Thee with the hearing of the ear, but now mine 
eye seeth thee ; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in 
dust and ashes." Job 40: 4, 5; 42:1-6. Lord, so teach us. 

See how God heard him praying for others. Job 42 : 6, 
10. Lord, so remember our friends, and all we deal 
with . 

THIRD DAY— MOSES' PRAYERS 

From Ezek. 14 : 14 we learn that Noah, yearnijig over 
men, abounded with } rayers, though Moses has recorded 
none. Moses, however, himself is a glorious example. 

In Exod. 17: 10-13, we find him on the hill praying, 
while Joshua fights. Let us be found so praying for our 
public men, ministers, rulers, and teachers. 



IN PRAYER. 3 

In Exod. 32: 31, 32, we find his earnest intercession 
when Israel sinned : "And Moses returned unto the Lord, 
and said, Oh, this people have sinned a great sin, and 
have made them gods of gold. Yet now if thou wilt, 
forgive their sin ; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of 
thy book which thou hast written." for such zeal. 

In Exod. 33 : 12-23, see repeated prayer and repeated 
answers. Let us urge such for ourselves. " Show me 
thyself, thy loving-kindness, thy law, thy way." 

See him again in Exod. 34 : 9, when nearest God, when 
enjoying fellowship; and in Num. 11:11, when in sad 
perplexity. So let us plead, and tell plainly all we feel. 
Pour out the heart. 

In jSTum. 14: 13-20, behold his intense earnestness in 
prayer for others, and the result. for such a heart; 
spreading before God our case, the case of the church, the 
case of the earth, the glory of his great name. 

See in Deut. 3 : 23-28, how even unanswered prayer 
becomes a blessing, the Lord satisfying our heart, giving 
us work, indulging us with comfortable views of the 
future. 

for such fully answered prayer as l)cut. 33, the 
united prophecy, supplication, and blessing of this man. 
of God, before his death. Lord, open the windows of 
heaven over us. 

FOURTH DAY— JOSHUA'S PRAYERS. 

Men of business, meet God before you go forth to the 
warfare of the day. See Joshua, amidst the bustle and 
business of an army and camp, meeting with the Lord in 
order to be armed for battle. Josh. 5 : 13, 14. 

See him in Josh. 7 : 7-10, spreading hidden ♦luses of 
wrath before the Lord — using arguments. " Alas, Lord 
tTod, what shall I say when Israel turneth their backs 
before thfir enemies? And what wilt thou do unto thy 
great name ?" 

See him in Josh. 10: 12, able to pray amid tumult: 
"Then spake Joshna to the Lord, and he said in the sight 



4 EXAMPLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS 

of Israel, Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou, 
Moon, in the valley of Aijalon." Though short, how 
mighty. Who of us, in the busiest, most noisy scenes, 
cannot find time for brief - prayer ?- Well faith may 
sling the stone. Sun-and-moon-arresting prayers may 
ascend in a moment of time. 

This man of prayer fed upon the word. Josh. 1 : 8, and 
acted according to the revealed will of his God, Josh. 1 : 7. 
Man of prayer, attend to this. 

FIFTH DAY— SAMUEL'S PRAYERS. 

See him dwelling at the tabernacle, his soul full of 
the altar scenes, feeling the power of the blood. 

Oh for such public prayers as his in the great assem- 
bly at Mizpah, while pouring forth Israel's need, and 
spreading their sins before God. 1 Sam. 7 : 5—9. 

Hear him, in 1 Sam. 8 : 6-21, rehearsing in the ear of 
God the urgency of the people for a king to reign over 
them. In chap. 12 : 18, thunder answers him, and in 
verse 23, he tells them that he will never cease to pray ; 
for to cease, would be to sin. 

Listen to his cries, and his long mourning for Saul, 
when the Lord had rejected him from being king : " And 
it grieved Samuel ; and he cried unto the Lord all night." 
1 Sam. 15: 11; 16 : 1. Let us so sigh and cry for the 
land, and for unconverted friends, and for backsliders. 

We have the Lord's testimony to the prevailing power 
of his prayers, Jer. 15: 1. A Moses or a Samuel could, in 
ordinary times, turn God's mind towards Israel. Why not 
now? Is Samuel's God not alive? Is Samuel's Saviour 
changed? Awake, awake, arm of the Lord. 

SIXTH DAY— DAVID'S PRAYERS. 

David wrote for the church in all ages, and even 
Christ used his strong cries. Let us too cry in the words 
of Psa. 3 for help, "Lord, how are they increased that 
trouble lae ," and Psa. 6, for deliverance in times of cliur- 



IN PRAYER. 6 

tisement, "0 Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger." Lot 
us pray for the hearing of prayer, as in Psa. 13, " How 
long wilt ihou forget me, Lord ?" and for the overthrow 
of the foes of God, Psa. 35, "Plead my cause, Lord, 
with them that strive with me." 

Let us go with such confession and crying as Psalmg 
38 and 51, "0 Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath;" 
" Have mercy upon me, God, according to thy loving- 
kindness ;" such desires for God's name on the earth, and 
earth's deliverance, as Psa. 67, "God be merciful unto us, 
and bless us ;" such longing for revival as Psa. 75, "Lord, 
thou hast been favorable unto thy land ;" such confidence 
in the Lord for blessing as Psa. 76, "Bow down thine ear, 
Lord ; hear me ;" and for Zion's final glory, as Psa. 102, 
" Hear my prayer, Lord, and let my cry come before 
thee. Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion ; for 
the time to favor her, yea, the set time is come." Psa^ 
119, on the law of the Lord, will be a manual to us for 
every day. 

But besides, in 1 Sam. 23 : 4, he asks and finds in- 
structions respecting Keilah ; and so in verses 10-12, and 
in 2 Sam. 2 : 1, he asks direction as to going to Keilah and 
Hebron, and is answered. Why not we too, in all our 
ways, and cares, and thoughts ? 

In 2 Sam. 15 : 31, see his short but earnest cry against 
the traitor : " Lord, I pray thee turn the counsel of 
Ahithophel into foolishness." Oh to be able thus to cry 
against anticlirist, the errors of our day, the snares of the 
devil. 

In 2 Sam. 24, see him avert the 2)(^^tU€7ice from Jeru 
salcm. Is not this needed now? 

Imitate his prayer for Solomon, in 1 Chron. 29 : lO-lP, 
and for all w4io might do good to others. The young, 
schools, teachers, rulers, should be prayed for. Ask too 
a spirit of liberality and self dedication. 
" Let us be as David in cries, confessions, praises, 
thanks, requests, beseeching calls, vehement desires ; and 



6 EXAMPLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS 

that for ourselves, our church, our land, our world. He 
that praised so well is also renowned for prayer.' 

SEVENTH DAY— ELIJAH'S PRAYEHS 

His was the prayer that shut and opened the heavens, 
J&mes 5 : 17, 18 ; and the prayer for the dead son, 1 Kings, 
17 : 20-22: marvellous faith, and marvellous response. 
Study also the prayer for fire to consume his burnt-sacri- 
fice, and the altar itself, 1 Kings, 18 : 36, 37; and the 
prayer for rain on Carmel, 1 Kings, 18 : 42-44 ; the prayer 
that consumed the two captains with their fifties, 2 Kings, 
1 ; and the double portion of his Spirit given to Elisha at 
his request, 2 Kings, 2 : 9. 

What are we ? Why are we getting grains and drops 
only ? Where is bold faith ? Where is heaven-opening 
and heaven-shutting prayer ? 

An apostle exclaims, " Elias was a man subject to like 
passions as we are." James 5 : 17. Why then do we de- 
spond ? It was not his merit, but the merit of his Saviour 
that prevailed. Let us stay on Carmel, looking seven 
times for the cloud. 

EIGHTH DAY— HEZEKIAH'S CPJES. 

Is ours the prayer of faith ? Do we pray really in 
Christ's name ? 

Read ii Chron. 29 : 26, 27, the king at the atoning 
altar, rejoicing in the voice from its four horns. Hence it 
is that soon after, his cry for the people is heard : " The 
good Lord pardon every one that prepareth his heart to 
seek God. And the Lord hearkened to Hezekiah, and 
healed the people." 2 Chron. 30 : 18-20. 

In 2 Chron. 32 : 20, he and Isaiah pray for deliverance 
from the invading hosts of Assyria ; teaching us to tell 
God, apart and together, all our fears, cares, needs. And 
gee what an answer, when the letter of the enemy is 
»?pread before God, 2 Kings, 19 : 14-20, 35. 

Think u\\tn hi? importunate prayer and his sore weep- 



I\ TRAi'ER. 7 

ing in his sickness, Isa. 38 : 3 ; and the answer, verse 6. 
Also upon the memorable " Undertake for me," vers,- 14 ; 
and the sun turned back for him ten degrees in the dial 
of AhsLZ, verse 8. 

Mighty and memorable prayers. And such too waV 
that cry of his son Manasseh, when he was in affliction. 
2 Chron. 33 : 12, 13, 19. When shall our rulers so call on 
God ? Lord, teach them, our statesmen, our senators, 
our legislators, our judges. 

NINTH DAY-UANIEL'S PRAYERS. 

Our Father " who seeth in secret," tells of Daniel's 
prayerfulness, with that of Noah and Job. Ezek. 14 : 14. 
In the palace with his three friends, what a prayer-meet- 
ing was held, while they desired mercies of the God of 
heaven concerning the king's dream, that Daniel and his 
fellows should not perish. Dan. 2 : 17-19. What stead- 
fastness in prayer amid business, as well as in danger : 
" Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, 
he prayed, and gave thanks before his God, as he did 
aforetime." Dan. 6:10. And what deliverance: "My 
God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths 
that they have not hurt me," verse 22. In Dan. 9 : 3-21, 
what supplication, what vehement desire, what gracious 
answer. And this man of prayer is he that is told of 
the last days so fully, and who gets the promise of rest 
and happy resurrection. Dan. 12: 13. 

Lord, give us Daniels at court, men of prayer at the 
helm of government. Give us Daniels in business, who 
cry evening, morning, and at noon, with their face towards 
Calvary, their hearts fixed on Jesus. 

Lord, make us in our closets and in quiet, what 
Daniel was in Babylon. 

TENTH DAY— EZRA'S AND NEIIEMIAH'S PRAYERS. 

Let us not walk prayerlessly in this bustling age. 
Ezra built the altar, ere ever he built one stone on 



8 EXAMPLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS. 

another of the city ; showing thereby his soul's rest on the 
propitiation. Then. Ezra 7 : 27, we see how he spoke to 
his God continually, and, 8 : 23, fasted and besought him, 
" to seek of him a right way for us and for our little 
ones" home from captivity. More especially the whole of 
chap. 9 is an earnest, fervent, piercing cry for Israel. 
for such cries for Israel and for us now. for such 
mourners. for such men to stand in the gap. 

Nehemiah prays at the king's table, Neh. 2 : 4, as well 
as in his closet, Neh. 1 : 6-11 ; and then he acts. Often 
too does he look up and pray, after acting : " Never- 
theless, we made our prayer unto our God." " Think 
upon me, my God, for good." Neh. 4:9; 5:19; 6:14; 
13:29,31. 

What a spreading out of sins and mercies in chap. 9, 
to stir up their souls to praise and thankfulness and new 
obedience. Let us review the Lord's mercies, and abound 
in adoring thankfulness. 

These were the days of which the Lord spoke to Mal- 
achi : " Then they that feared the Lord, spake often one 
to another: and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and 
a book of remembrance was written before him for them 
that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. 
And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that 
day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them, 
as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." Mai. 
3 : 16, 17, 18. Who would not be as they ? Who does not 
covet their blessed remembrance? Arise, and let us 
have a name with them in the royal register of heaven. 
Let us pray, let us meet for prayer, let us pray and never 
cease till the Hearer o" prayer arises from his seat to 
make his enemies his footstool, and make up his jewelsj 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



"I AM A POOR SINNER." 



A POOR man named Tom got his living by selling 

pies. In this way he used to visit the low public-houses 
and other wicked places, and there became the sport of 
the drunkard and the vile, drinking and swearing with 
them. As he was one day selling his pies, passing through 
the low and wretched alleys, he entered the room of a 
poor dying sailor, and heard him, as he entered, say, 

"I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all; 
But Jesus Christ is my all in all. ' ' 

The words struck him. He stood still, and listened again, 
and the same words were the only utterance of the poor 
sailor. They so deeply entered poor Tom's heart, that as 
he went along he was constantly repeating to himself, 

"I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all ; 
But Jesus Christ is my all in all." 

He wondered in what book they could be found, and was 
determined, if possible, to find them ; and for this purpose, 
as it sounded like poetry, he borrowed a hymn-book from 
some Christians who had taken an interest in him ; he 
searched and searched, but could not find them. He next 
took up the New Testament, and there, to his great aston- 
ishment, found the substance of what he sought ; he was 
deeply moved by what he read, and it seems that it was 
here the Lord revealed himself to him. 

In the course of his reading he came to the institution 
of the supper of our Lord, and found it was the command 
of Jesus that his disciples should observe it in remem- 
brance of him who was their all in all. This rested in 
the bosom ot this poor man, and he went to the Christian 
friends who had lent him the book, and told them his 
thoughts. They were so much struck with the earnest 
desire ot the poor man to honor Christ by coming to his 



2 "I AM A POOR SINNER." 

table, that they requested a servant of the Lord to go and 
see him. He went, and had some conversation with poor 
Tom, who said he should like to do what Jesus said in 
the Testament "in remembrance of him;" but the other 
answered, that it was only for the Lord's people, and " you 
are aware," said he, "how well known your character is 
as a drunkard, a swearer, and one who keeps bad com- 
pany." To this he had no other reply, but " 'I am a poor 
sinner, and nothing at all; but Jesus Christ is my all ii» 
all,' and I should like to do what Jesus said we ought." 
So struck was the servant of Christ that there was more 
than nature working here, that he made strict inquiries 
about him, and found that he had not only left his vile 
practices, but had also ceased to sell pies, in order to get 
out of the way of temptation. They were most thankful 
to receive him as one who did know the Lord and loved 
him, feeling that the Lord would get great honor and glory 
to himself by such an one. He adorned his profession 
with a most consistent life and walk, enjoying much hap' 
piness and peace with God ; so much so, that it was often 
marked by Christians, some of whom made the inquiry, 
•* How is it, Tom, you always enjoy so much happiness ? 
We are not so." " Oh," said Tom, " I suppose you want to 
be something ; but ' I am a poor sinner, and nothing at 
all, and Jesus Christ is my all in all.'" 

Dear reader, whoever and whatever your temporal 
condition in this world is, you are, as it regards your soul 
and God, either at peace with God and become his child, 
or without God, with a guilty accusing conscience, and at 
enmity with him. The one or the other is the condition 
of every man, woman, or child, in this world. You either 
are saved and made clean for God's presence and heaven, 
or you are not saved and uncleansed, exposed to hell and 
its everlasting torments. 

If you are saved, it is because you have from youl 
heart believed God to be true, and his word true, which 



"I AM A FOOR SINNER.." 3 

tells you of his love in the gift of his Son Jesus Christ to 
die for you, and that his blood cleanseth us from all sin. 
1 John, 1 : 7. You have been made to see how suitable 
you are for Christ to save, and how suitable Christ is to 
ypu as a Saviour; for he only, and no other, makes you 
quife clean, and without spot, fit for the presence of a 
holy God. You see that you can bring nothing but sin to 
Jesus, and Jesus gives you his blood as that which alone, 
through the power of the Holy Spirit, cleanseth you from 
all sin; and this brings the peaca of God which passeth 
all understanding, for it is God's only method of speaking 
peace to poor lost sinners, the one and only way of taking 
away sin, the wages of which is death. He cannot, he 
will not for a moment look upon any works but his Son's 
as giving a title to heaven and his presence. 

It is a solemn delusion to try to cover our condition as 
sinners, or our sins, by our best actions, and the promises 
of future goodness or repentance, for our righteousness is 
as lilthy rags in the sight of God ; and what advantage will 
it be to us to cover our filthy condition as sinners by a 
filthy covering ? What he requires he has provided, and 
he bids us receive and live upon his provision. Our 
daily knowledge of ourselves and God's word tells us the 
plain truth that we were born in sin, and that whatever 
we may attempt, if we reject Christ we can never change 
our character as sinners. God regards all our thoughts 
and actions as unclean, they are the products of an unclean 
heart ; therefore we must be born again and made clean 
by the blood of the Lamb of God. And even after we 
are born again, the flesh defiles every thing; therefore 
we must be always using and living in the cleansing 
power of the blood of Christ, and the perfection of his 
righteousness. Will your tears, your sorrow for sin, or 
prayers, or promises satisfy the claims of God against 
you ? Nothing but Christ's blood cancels the debt of sin. 
Heb. : 22. 



i "I AM A POOR SINNER." 

But his great love and mercy has provided a covering 
for our sins so perfect and complete, that he declares it 
perfectly hides sin from his own sight and takes it from 
his remembrance. Rom. 4:7, 8; Heb. 8:12. Mercy 
has met justice, proclaiming to every creature, that " God 
so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, 
that whosoever believelh in him should not perish, but 
have everlasting life." John 4 : 16. Jesus Christ the 
Son of God is indeed the sinner's friend, for he took man's 
nature in order to take fnan's punishment, that whosoever 
would look on and own him as the one whom God had 
given to be put to death for his sins, should be pardoned 
and cleansed from all his sins, because he confessed and 
owned the precious reality and truthfulness of God's one 
Avay of salvation, in getting rid of sin and saving the sin- 
ner ; in being just to himself, and yet the justifier of every 
one who beiieveth on him. 

Fellow-sinner, cry to God for light to show you what 
you are, and what Jesus is for you. Hearken not to Satan, 
or the unbelieving questionings of your own heart. As 
lost, vile, and helpless, cast yourself upon Jesus, the Saviour 
of lost sinners. None but God knows the anguish of that 
torment which never ceases ; therefore does he continuall) 
warn and admonish you by his word, and in your con' 
science by his Spirit secretly remonstrate with you, "Why 
will you die ?" Be not so mad and hardened as to reject 
Him; he will give you power to approach; "seek, and 
ye shall find," "Him that cometh to me," says the 
Saviour, " I will in no wise cast out." Believe the word 
of a God of love to you, and know the blessedness of 
joining in your heart with poor Tom upon earth and in 
heaven : 

"I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all; 
But Jesus Christ is my all in all." 



IMTBLISIIED BY THE AMERICAN' THACT SOCIETY'. 



Ko. 566. 

HOW TO DO GOOD; 

OR, 

WAYS OF CARING FOR THE SOULS OF OTHERS. 



These pages are addressed to those who know the 
Lord, to beg them to do what they can for the souls oi 
others. How many thousands there are around us who 
have no fear of God before their eyes, who are going on 
in the way to ruin, who know not tlieir need of a Sav- 
iour, and who live as if there were no heaven nor hell. 
Ought we not to pity them, to warn them, to tell them 
of their danger, to tell them of the love of Jesus, and to 
beseech them to repent and to trust in him ? Remem- 
ber, that it is not only drunkards, swearers, sabbath-break- 
ers, and such kinds of persons, that are in danger of hell, 
but all who have not given their hearts to God, all who 
are not living to him. We shall now suggest some ways 
in which you may do good. 

1 . You can praij for your families, friends, neighbors, 
and all the world. A pious woman had a son who did 
not love God ; she prayed for him a long time, but God 
did not seem to hear her prayers. She went on praying ; 
and at the end of seventeen years, her son's heart was 
changed, and he became a pious man. A little girl 
called Jane belonged to a very bad family. She was 
sent to a Sabbath-school, and got great good there. She 
was happy then, and longed that her relations should be 
happy too. She prayed for them and spoke to them 
about their souls. In a few months, her father and 
mother, four brothers, and a sister, were turned to God. 

2. You can set a godly cxamjole, and show that relig- 
ion makes you kind, gentle, good-tempered, and ha])py. 



^ HOW TO DO GOOD. 

A mother saw that her daughter loved and read the Bi- 
ble, prayed to God by herself, and was patient and cheer- 
ful when in pain. So she prayed that her child's God 
would be her God, and began to seek the Lord herself. 
"My first feelings of religion," says the Rev. Richard 
Cecil, " were made stronger by seeing that pious persons 
had some real happiness, which I felt the things of this 
world could not give." A poor man was told by his 
young master, to carry some coal on the Lord's day, and 
that if he did not do so, he would not give him any more 
work. The poor man would not break the Sabbath, even 
to please his master. His keeping the Lord's day, and a 
tract on the Sabbath which he gave to his young master, 
did him good, and he, and his father and mother, after a 
time, were walking in the way to heaven. A poor man's 
example may do much good. 

3. You can speak to your families, friends, neighbors, 
and many others, about their souls. " I am very thank- 
ful to God, and to you," said a father, "for your Sabbath- 
school. My son, who had heard me cursing when drunk, 
said, ' 0, father, my teacher told me that neither drunk- 
ards nor swearers could go to heaven.' This so touched 
me, that from that time, by the grace of God, I left ofl 
those wicked ways." A pious wife who had a wicked 
husband, said that she trembled for his state, because, 
if he were to die as he was, he must be lost for ever. 
Her husband felt it, and said, "Do you really think I 
should be miserable for ever? I thank you for the warn- 
ing. By the grace of God, I will change my conduct." 
From that time he became a changed man. " A word 
spoken in due season, how good it is I" "What knowcst 
thou, wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband? or 
how knowest thou, man, whether thou shalt save thy 
wife?" 1 Cor. 7: 16. 

4. When you see or hear people doing wrong, you can 



HOW TO DO GOOD. « 

often speak to them kindly, and beg them not to do such 
thi?tgs. An Indian boy went with the Rev. Mr. Finley 
to a merchant's house. The merchant had some giddy 
young men for clerks. The boy had to sleep in the 
:«ame room as the clerks. Before he got into bed, he 
knelt down to pray. The others began to disturb him, 
but he took no notice of it. They went on in this way 
for some time. At last, one night when they were very 
rude, he spoke to them, told them it was wicked to do 
go, and that they were worse than Indians, for they would 
be ashamed to do such things. This came home to the 
hearts of the young men. The reproof was made useful 
to them. 

5. You can read the Bible, and j^ray tvith your fami- 
ly. Much good may be done by family worship. Make 
the prayers and reading very plain, that all may under- 
stand them. Let them not be too long. Make them pleas- 
ant. Where the husband is against prayer, the wife can 
take the children into her own room and pray with them. 
A pious tradesman, when he began business, had family 
prayer every morning and evening, and would not allow 
any of his family or apprentices to be absent. God 
blessed both his family and his business. When, his 
business became extensive, he thought that he should not 
have time for family prayer, and at last gave it up ; but 
his conscience smote him for this sin. One day he received 
a letter from a young man who had been his appren- 
tice, and did not know that he had left off praying with 
his family. In this letter he thanked him very much for 
his kindness in letting him attend family worship. " It 
was there," said he, " that I first saw my lost state as a 
sinner ; it was there that I first learned the way to heav- 
en, and there that I found Christ precious to my soul. 
sir, let me say, never give up family prayer ; you have 
yet a family and apprentices. May your house be the 



4 HOW TO DO G06D. 

birthplace of their souls.'' This letter made the trades* 
man weep for his sin, and from that time he had family 
prayers again. 

6. You can lend or give tracts or books to others. 
Colonel Gardiner's mother put a good book into his box 
when he went abroad. That book did him good. Ruth 
Clark, who was a pious servant, wished very much to do 
good to the souls of her friends. She kept on trying to 
do them good for above thirty years. Though her wages 
were not large, she used often to send good books, and 
letters of kind and earnest advice, to her sisters, brothers, 
and their children. She generally sent at the same time 
some little useful present, to make them take in good 
part the advice or books. A farmer in Norway, twenty- 
five years old, used to go about to many places with tracts, 
which he sold or gave to the people. These did much 
good, for fifty thousand poor persons began to seek after 
God about the time that they first knew this good man. 

7. You can read the Bible and good books to tloose ivlio 
ivill listen. A teacher once went into a wretched cot- 
tage. In it lay a dead body, and a poor woman was dj'- 
ing on a bed of straw. Near her were her two little 
girls.; one of them, thirteen years old, had a Bible in her 
thin hands, and she was trying to comfort her mother out 
of it. These were Sabbath-school girls. They had had 
no food for some days. The next day the mother died 
very happy : her daughter had taught her about Jesus out 
of the Bible. 

8. You can teach others to read. A poor man used to 
quarrel and fight, but when he heard a good sermon 
preached, his heart was changed. He then wished to learn 
to read, and his daughter taught him. A woman who 
was a slave had to work from sunrise to sunset ; yet in 
the night she used to walk, two or three times a week, 
seven or eight miles, with a child on her back, to teach 



HOW TO DO aOOD. 6 

those she loved, that they might be able to read the 
Bible themselves. 

9. Some of you can teach in Sabbath-schools. Some 
of the young and- poor do teach in them. One of the 
daughters of the poor dying woman just mentioned, has 
been a teacher in a school for some years. A great 
many who were once scholars have become teachers. 
The father of little Jane had been very much against her 
going to the Sabbath-school ; but when God gave him a 
new.heart, he went there himself to teach. 

10. You can give somethi7ig to societies for the spread 
of the gospel. A lady who collected for a missionary 
society, called on a poor widow who had five children 
to support. She told her that, as she was so poor, she 
did not expect her to give any thing. " Oh," said the 
poor widow, " I wish, poor as I am, to give a penny a 
week to help the cause of that Saviour who has given me 
tbe hope of heaven," A little girl sent two dollars to 
the missionary society. How much happier children and 
other persons must feel, when they give their money to 
send Bibles, tracts, and missionaries to teach the poor 
heathen about Jesus and the way to be saved, than 
when they spend it needlessly on themselves. 

11. You can beg people to go to GocVs house. A pool 
colored man named Rozie, who had been a slave, heard 
a sermon, and became pious. Then he felt much foi 
poor careless sinners, and watched for opportunities ol 
speaking to them about their souls. He tried to get them 
to go with him to the house of God ; and some will have 
to bless God for ever for his doing so. Another colored 
man, whom Hozie brought to tlie house of God, became, 
as there is good cause to believe, a new man in Christ 
Jesus. 

12. When any are ill, you can see them, and get some 
good minister or other Christian to visit them. You can 



6 HOW TO DO GOOD. 

also gel them to visit those that are well. You can go 
and beg ministers to lay to heart the state of such and 
such persons^ Or you can beg those persons to see some 
minister about their precious souls. A poor man thought 
that he was near death, and begged his wife to ask if 
any thing could be found to take away the trouble of 
mind which he felt at the thought of dying. His little 
girl, who went to a Sabbalh-school, said, " Father, there 
is a good man who belongs to our school ; he visits peo- 
ple and prays with them, and if he knew that you 
wanted him, he would come to you." " Run for him,'' 
said the man. The girl soon came back with a teacher, 
who read and explained very plainly some parts of the 
Testament. He came often to see him, and showed him 
clearly the way to heaven by the Lord Jesus. 

13. You can send your children to a Sabbat! L-school^ or 
beg other people to send theirs. Very much good has 
been done by Sabbath-schools to children, and to their 
parents and others. A mother of a family speaks thus : 
" Before my children went to the school, we were a 
wretched family ; my husband was always quarrelling and 
•'wearing; he laughed at religion, and he and I never 
went to God's house. Now we are happy and contented, 
and find our chief delight in going to the Lord's house, 
and in trying to lead our children in his ways." 

14. You can speak to your companions. Choose good 
times for speaking to them. It is better, perhaps, to speak 
to persons by themselves, than when they are with others 
who do not fear God. It has often done much good to 
tell a useful anecdote or story. A teacher asked a young 
man if he had got any good by going to a Sabbath-school, 
and hearing sermons. " Yes," he said, " I have ; they 
made me think what I was about. Then I thought 1 
should like if God would make me religious, for I be- 
lieved I should be happier than I was : and I have found 



KOW TO DO GOOD. 7 

it is so ; for now, one Sabbath is worth a dozen of such 
as I used to spend. " Why, how do you spend your 
Sabbaths now?" "I go to God's house three times; I 
read my Bible, and pray ; and my brothers go with me 
now." " How is it that your brothers like to go with you ?'' 
" Why, God has helped me to persuade them. We alsu 
take as many of our companions as we can persuade to 
go with us." 

15. You can beg people to keep holy the Sabbath^ to 
pray and read the Bible every day, to keep out of bad 
company, to keep away from public-houses, to bring up 
their children rightly, and so on, and to leave off swear- 
ing, gambling, and other bad ways. Many persons have 
been persuaded to give up drunkenness and to go to God's 
house. A pious man once went into a cottage where 
every thing seemed most wretched. A long time after, 
he called again, and found every thing looking clean and 
nice. The reason was that the husband, who had once 
been a sad drunkard, had now given up drinking. 

16. You can be kind to others, and then they will be 
more likely to mind what you say. 

17. When you are going to the house of God, or any 
where else, you can often speak to those whom you see 
or hear sinning, whether you know them or not ; you 
can speak to children that you see quarrelling or doing 
wrong in any way on any day, or running or playing 
about on the Sabbath. 

18. You can write letters to your friends, and try to 
do them good, and ask them to do good to others. Some- 
times, when it is very hard to speak to a person, we can 
write him a letter. v 

19. In walking along the road, or anywhere else, 
you can drop a kind word. In shops, on coaches, in 
ships, steamers, and other places, you can often speak to 
others. A picus man was riding in a gig, and spoke 



8 HOW TO DO GOOD. 

to the man who drove him. He found that he knew very 
little, and that be never prayed, read the Bible, or went 
to the house of God. He got him to promise to use this 
prayer, " Lord, give me thy Holy Spirit, for Christ's 
sake." A long time .-^fter, he saw this man again, and 
found that he had used the prayer, God had heard it, 
and the man had become a real Christian. 

20. When you have a few minutes to spare, you can 
visit some neighbors, and speak to them about their 
souls. Harlan Page was a man who loved to do good, 
and between the hours of his work he went and spoke to 
others about their souls. He was the means of turning 
more than a hundred persons to God, some of whom were 
ministers afterwards. 

Remember, that it is not our prayers, or our words, or 
any thing that we can do, that can change the hearts of 
others. God only can do that. But we are to use the 
means, and look up to him to bless them. He can work 
by small means as well as by great. He has converted 
sinners by the words of children. Try then to do good 
to all that come in your way; pray to God to teach you 
what to say to them, to give you love to their souls, tc 
keep you from being afraid to speak. Think how blessed 
it will be to meet many in heaven to whom your la- 
bors have been useful, many who will have to bless God 
that they ever saw you, that you told them of their dan- 
ger, besought them to flee from the wrath to come, and 
spoke to them of that precious Saviour who died to save 
sinners from hell. " Brethren, if any of you do err from 
the truth, and one convert him ; let him know, that he 
which converteth the sinner from the error of his way, 
shall save a soul from death." Jas. G: 19, 20. « They 
that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars 
for ever and ever." Dan. 12: 3. 



PUBLISHED r>Y THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



r¥o. 36T. 

THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 



In the autumn of 1852, 1 was called in the providence 
of God to follow to the grave one of the most esteemed 
members of my church. The place of burial was at some 
distance from her residence, and I was conveyed thither 
in a light wagon by a lad of about sixteen or seventeen. 

His youthful appearance, and the solemn transaction 
in which we were engaged, combined to draw me strong- 
ly to speak to him in reference to his eternal welfare. 
We liad proceeded but a little on our way, however, be- 
fore I saw that this would be no easy tasl^:. He seemed 
rather dull except when I began to speak of the Saviour, 
and then manifested a decided unwillingness to hear any 
thing of the kind. I soon desisted from any direct con- 
versation in reference to serious things ; and trusting to 
our return from the grave to give me an opportunity to 
speak plainly and pointedly, I contented myself with 
general conversation, and an occasional question which 
might afford me some avenue of influence by which I 
could reach his heart. His evident aversion to me tempt- 
ed me to put our intercourse at an end ; but there was 
so much that was deeply impressive in the circumstances 
that had brought us together, and something in the per- 
tinacious unwillingness of so young a person to listen 
to a serious word, that excited at once my pity and my 
fervent resolution to make one earnest, affectionate ai> 
peal to him to seek betimes eternal life. 

I have said that the circumstances that brought us 
together were impressive. We were carrying to the 
grave the mortal romains of a disciple of Jesus Christ, 
who, during an unusually long and wasting sickness, had 
attained a degree of spirituality which 1 liave scarcely 
ever seen equalled. She was the wife of one of his em- 
ployers, and he had known her long enough to know 
that she had lived and died a faithful follower of the 
Lamb. 

As we turned to leave the place of burial, I directed 
his attention to the influence which the religion of Jesus 



2 THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 

Christ had evidently had on her life and death, and coh- 
jured him, as he desired to be happy living and dying, 
to seek her Redeemer. This only provoked a contempt- 
uous smile. Nor did any thing that I could say win a 
more hopeful reception, except when I alluded to his 
father and mother, who I had discovered from his talk 
were church-members, and suggested what joy it would 
give them to see him a disciple of Christ. Then for a 
moment his lip quivered, and rousing himself he seemed 
struck with a sudden resolution to bring this painful 
conversation to an end, for putting the whip to the horse, 
he dashed homeward at a breakneck pace, which I verily 
thought would have finished me and the conversation 
together. 

So ended the first day of my acquaintance with the 
apprentice-boy — a day that left on my heart the painful 
impression that I had rarely met so young a man so 
utterly, coldly hardened against every thing good. 

A few Sabbaths after this, my attention was called 
by one of the teachers of my Sabbath-school to a boy in 
his class, who was so deeply attentive to every word 
that was uttered as to excite in his teacher's heart the 
hope that he was anxious to know the way of salvation. 
I requested one of his fellow-scholars, who had, I trust, 
been himself led into that way, to bring him to my study 
the next evening, to a meeting which I was accustomed 
to hold with the boys for prayer. He did so, and I dis- 
covered that the boy was evidently under deep exercise 
of mind. He was invited to come on the following Sab- 
bath to the meeting of inquirers after salvation held be- 
tween the services. He came ; and came again. His 
convictions of sin deepened. He sought the Lord with 
agony and tears ; and, blessed be His name, he was en- 
abled to cast himself and his load of sin at the feet of 
Jesus Christ, and humbly to hope for mercy through Him 
who died. 

It was not until now that I thought of asking his 
name. When he gave it, it was a strange one to me, I 
had never heard it before. I asked him if he lived in the 
vicinity, and what was his business. He said he was 

an apprentice to R and M . I looked at him a 

moment, and asked him Avilh wonder, "Did you drive me 
when I attended Mrs. R 's funeral ?" " I did," said 



THE APPRENTICE-BOy. 3 

he, liftinf^ up his face with a smile. Then for the first 
moment I recognized him. His cap, on the day of our 
first meeting, was slouclied over his eyes, and I had 
not had a good sight of his face ; and until he avowed 
it to me that happy Sabbath noon, I did not know who 
it was in whose salvation we had been so deeply in- 
:erested. 

I learned afterwards that on his return from the 
funeral, he had made known the fact of my attempt to 
"talk religion" to him, and had chuckled over the ex- 
pertness with which he had brought 'the conversation to 
a close. He did not want, he said, "to see that man\s 
face again for a while." In fact, from that time ho seem- 
ed more hardened than ever. 

He had usually been quiet on the Sabbath, but the 
Sabbath after our encounter he strolled off to the wharf 
near by to follow a brutal fight that was going on. His 
conduct on this occasion drew from the kind lips that to 
the day of his death spoke to him with a mother's tender- 
ness, the reproving words, that "of all the apprentices 
that had ever been under his employer's roof, he alone 
had violated so grossly the Sabbath-day." 

In truth, his heart had been in a state of wild dis- 
quiet since the day of the funeral. The hardihood of his 
manner had been more than half assumed. His new and 
unusual disregard of the Sabbath was a fiercer struggle 
of his convicted soul to rid itselfofits distressing thoughts 
of. God and eternity — a struggle in which he was not 
suffered to succeed. 

A Sabbath or two after, he went, at the hour of Sab- 
bath-school, to a building near at hand, where a number 
of the Sabbath-school boys were waiting* for the opening 
of the school. Thence he easily suffered himself to be 
half-jocosely drawn into the school ; and there, shortly 
afterwards, my attention was directed to him. 

From the time that he found the Savioiu', his Cliiis- 
tian character rapidly developed. I have the delightful 
testimony from his young companions, that he was un- 
wearied in his efforts to persuade them to the Sabbath- 
school and to the house of God, and to the meeting for 
prayer, where he trusted that they might find, as he had, 
Jesus Christ. I have been told by the respected family 
with whom he dwelt, that he was faithful in his habit of 



4 THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 

prayer ; that many a time in passing' his room they could 
hear his voice in prayer to God. That when he returned 
at evening from his daily work, his way was, frequently, 
to go up to his room and sit with his Bible. And my 
heart must grow colder than it is now before I forget 
how steadfast he was in the services of public worsliip, 
and how often we have knelt together — my little troop 
of Christian boys and their minister — while the voice of 
this dear boy has led our petitions to our Father's throne. 

He was not ashamed to confess the amazing change 
that had been wrought in him. The house in which I 
dwelt had formerly been occupied as a hotel, and the 
room which I then used for a study had been a bar-room. 
''How often I have spent mj^ evenings in this very room 
for a far different purpose," he frequently said, when we 
had assembled to pray. If he hesitated to attempt to 
persuade some erring companion to the feet of Jesus 
Christ, as if he was hopelessly astray, I had but to re- 
mind him of the little fellow who once rode with me, who 
took such pains to make me feel that he was utterly 
careless of eternal things, and with a cheerful smile he 
would acknowledge his error and address himself to his 
duty. 

His outward conduct was more and more exemplary. 
It had been my habit to say to my children in the gospel, 
'that if they were truly Christ's they would show it by 
being better sons, better brothers, better workmen, more 
diligent and trustworthy than they had ever been be- 
fore. I ventured one day to remind one of his employers 
that he had with him one of our Sabbath-school boys. 
"Yes," said he, "and a better boy I do not want." He 
then related to me a recent occurrence which he had him- 
self witnessed, in which this dear boy had been strongly 
solicited by a fellow-apprentice to do wrong. "I waited," 
said he, "to see if he would resist ; and when I saw that 
he did, strenuously and to the last, I interfered, and for- 
bade his fellow-apprentice ever to repeat the attempt ; 

and so gratified was I by D 's fidelity, that I agreed 

with my partner that he should have every facility that 
was in our power to become a skilful workman." 

But the most affecting instance of his fidelity to his 
Redeemer I have yet to give. Just at the Christmas 
holidays, he came one cvenfng to my study, and sitting 



THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 5 

down, said that in a few days he was going home. 
"Well," said I, " 3-011 are glad of that, I suppose ; for you 
do n't get home very often." To my great surprise — fine 
manly fellow as he was — he burst into tears. " Whj^, 

D ," said I, "are you so sorry to go home?" "I 

love to go home," said he ; "I want to see my father and 
mother ; but my associates there have been the very 
worst boys in the place, and I dread the thought of 
meeting them. When I think how they will set on me 
when they know that I am a Christian, I do not want to 
go home." "But," said I, "you must go, and for that 
very reason. They ought to know that you are a Chris- 
tian ; and you ought to act in such a way that they can- 
not help but know it." I spoke to him of the untold in- 
fluence of his example — for good, if he was consistent ; 
for evil, if he w^as unfaithful ; and conjured him, as he 
loved his Saviour, to follow steadfastly the path of duty, 
and in the face of ridicule to refuse every solicitation to 
sin. I advised him to write the very next day to his 
parents of the change that had taken place in his feelings; 
and entreated him to go with one hand on his Bible and 
the other on his Saviour, to seek every day and hour his 
help and grace. 

At the close of the week he w^ent, and the next week 
returned with a cheerful face to say that — as I had hoped — 
his letter had prepared them to see in him a Christian, 
and that he had had far less trouble than he had expect- 
ed. But I did not know until after he was dead how 
closely he had followed the advice given him. Then liis 
mother told me, that when he made his appearance 
among his old companions on the Sabbath morning, 
they rushed around him with their boisterous mirth, and 
at once proposed that he should accompany them to a 
place that had been the usual scene of their play. When 

he refused to go, some one said, "D 's a Christian." 

"Yes, I am a Christian," said he; "and I don't think 
that it is riglit to go to-day, and I am not going." 

But after they had pressed him sorely, he seemed to 
waver, and finally consented to go. He went down with 
them to the place, and while they began to shout and 
run, he stood still. Then presently' calling them to him, 
he said he wanted to say something to them, that he 
would not say unless they would sit quietly down. Curi' 

VOL. XIII. IG 



6 THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 

ous to hear, they sat down, and taking* from his breast 
his pocket Testament, he began to read to them ; and 
there beneath that Sabbath sun, that Christian boy stood 
reading the precious gospel to that strangely quiet 
throng, who had come down to violate the holy hours 
with tumultuous play. 

So, growing every day in grace, and more than ever 
my comfort in the gospel, the spring and summer passed 
over him. Nothing had occurred peculiarly to direct my 
thoughts to him, beyond the happy hope that he was thus 
increasing in his Saviour's likeness, until I received, as I 
was entering the church for the afternoon service, the 
Sabbath before the last in August, the message that he 
was very ill. He had exposed himself to a summer 
shower, and from the chill which it gave him had taken 
cold. For a week he had exhibited no dangerous symp- 
toms, but now his disorder had taken an unfavorable 
turn, and he was rapidly becoming worse. 

I hastened to him at the close of the service. Alas, 
the moment my eye fell upon him I read the indications 
that his race was run. He was slightly delirious, and 
laboring under a severe congestion of the lungs, and his 
foot was swollen and inflamed from a violent erysipelas. 
What hope could I have in the face of such symptoms? 
and yet how calmly happy was my soul, as I stood by 
that poor boy. I could not help but feel, " If God suffers 
you to rise from this bed of sickness, it will be to live for 
your Redeemer ; and if you never rise from it again, 
Jesus is with you, and you are his." Yes, the Master gave 
us the evidence of it. He was with him. 

By the next day he had very much declined ; his 
delirium was stronger : yet, when that poor heart of his 
had nothing to g-uide it, it was beyond measure affecting 
to see whither it went, helpless and alone. "Come to 
me," he said, as he drcAV me over to him and whispered 
in my ear, "at six o'clock" — the usual hour for closing 
liis daily work — "and read to me in the Bible." He had 
been accustomed on his return at that hour from his 
work to read it, when he was in health. " I want to go 
home," he said piteouslj. "You are too ill to go now," 
I answered ; " when you are better, you shall go ; besides, 
your mother has been sent for, and will soon be here." 
"Oh, not there, not there!" said he; "I want to go 



THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 7 

home to Jesus." Now it was a broken prayer on his 
fevered lip, and then some promise out of the gospeh 

How shall I ever forget his last night of suffering I 
He was tossing wildly to and fro, tearing from his breast 
the applications that had been made to relieve his gasp- 
ing breath, and raving in an uncontrollable delirium. 
The gentle means by which he had been kept quiet, ut- 
terly failed before this fierce madness of death. 

I sat down by that dying boy, and bending over, said 
in a low tone the first words of the twenty-third psalm, 
''The Lord is my Shepherd." He turned to me in an 
instant, quiet, and with a pleasant smile answered, "I 
shall not want." "He maketh me to lie down in green 
pastures," I continued. "He leadeth me beside the still 
waters," he responded ; and so on till we had repeated 
the whole of that blessed psalm. 

Then pausing a moment, he began the first verse of 
the fifty-first psalm. All that psalm we repeated ; and 
then said the twenty-third psalm as we had frequently 
sung it in the house of God : 

"Jesus, my Lord, doth condescend 
To be my Shepherd and my Friend : 
I on his faitlifuhiess rely — 
His care sliall all my Avants supply." 

And the sixty-third psalm : 

"My God, permit my tongue 
This joy, to call thee mine ; 
And let my early cries prevail 
To taste thy love divine." 

And that sweet hymn : 

' * When I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies." 

He repeated them all after me, and when he was done 
lay as quietly on his pillow as a child on its mother's 
bosom. 

It did not please our Father that he should have one 
lucid interval, so long that in it he could declare his con- 
fidence in his Redeemer, and his sense of his presence. 
But what need had we of it? His life had testified it; 
his dying delirium declared it. Jesus was with him ; we 
saw it in the long day of suffering, in the restless night 
of agony, when we counted the weary hours until it was 
day. To the last some unseen power held him up, and 



8 THE APPRENTICE-BOY. 

left its seal of quiet rest upon his features when all was 
over. The strong hands and kind hearts of his fellow- 
workmen carried his sleeping body homeward over the 
same road on which he had heard of Jesus to his eternal 
life ; and on the 25th of August, 1853, we laid him at 
rest amid the ashes of his kindred, until the resurrection 
of the just. 

He was but an apprentice-boy, with all an apprentice- 
boy's trials and exposures, and with all his disadvan- 
tages for being a Christian. Yet he was a Christian, 
living and dying. Alone, afar from home, sometimes 
among companions who ridiculed and tempted him, he 
clung to his Redeemer ; and when he came to die, Jesus 
held him fast, and through suffering and death led him 
to everlasting life. Your trials are no greater than his. 
The hinderances in the way of your following Jesus 
Christ not so sore as lay before him. Yet he won the 
crown. You too, by faith in Christ, though in the face 
of every obstacle, shall win heaven. The grace that in 
temptation and suffering never left him, will be as true 
to you. 

What says my reader ? The example of this youthful 
saint woos him to follow Jesus as he followed him, and 
like him to win eternal life. And from the city of God, 
the heavenly Jerusalem, ten thousand lips of pilgrims, 
that like him have reached the crown, cry, "Come up 
hither." What answer does my reader give? Will he 
follow in their footsteps, until like them his feet have 
crossed the heavenly threshold, and he wears the im- 
perishable crown? 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAXT STREET, NEW YORK. 



Xo. 568. 

THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. 



In a quiet village in France there formerly lived a 
good curate, surrounded by a flock of two or three hun- 
dred parishioners. One Sabbath-day, as he was going 
out of church after the performance of the mass, and 
reflecting how little benefit his hearers had probably de- 
rived from it, he found himself in the midst of a group of 
them who were conversing together in front of the church. 
Upon this it came into his mind that by a familiar con- 
versation with these simple villagers he might do them 
more good, than by going and chanting the vespers to them 
in Latin. He therefore came to a stop in the centre of 
the circle, and seating himself on a stone bench, with his 
hands resting on the head of his cane, he began by say- 
ing, with a frank and friendly air, 

"Tell me, John, are you a Christian?" 

" Certainly, sir," said John, greatly surprised at such 
a question. 

" And how did you become a Christian?" 

" Because — because — because you long ago baptized 
me, and made me a member of the true church, and 
therefore I am a Christian.' 

" But do you think that the robber Mandrin, who was 
seized on the highway not a month since, and who is 
condemned to labor ten years in the galleys, for having 
robbed our notary of 20,000 francs, do you think he is a 
Chiistian?" 

"Certainly not." 

" And yet he was baptized, just as you were. So you 
see it is not baptism that makes a man a Christian. And 
you, George, are you a Christian?" 

" Yes. sir." 



2 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

" And why ?" 

" Because I have attended the holy communion." 

" True ; but have you never heard of Cartouche ?" 

*' Yes, frequently." 

" And was he a Christian ?" 

** No, he was a robber, like Mandrin." 

" Well; but Cartouche and Mandrin had both made 
their first communion. You see, therefore, that the com- 
munion does not make you a Christian." 

Here our good peasants looked in each other's faces 
with amazement, and were quite at a loss to know what 
their respected curate was aiming at. Meanwhile he 
continued thus : 

" Mr. Preceptor, you no doubt will be able to tell ms 
better what it is that makes you a Christian ?" 

The schoolmaster, persuaded that the curate had se- 
lected him to solve the difficulty to the satisfaction of all, 
felt complimented to hear himself thus addressed, and 
replied thus : 

" 1 am a Christian, in the first place, because I attend 
mass every Sabbath ; in the second place, because I go to 
confession regularly once a month ; thirdly and lastly, 
because I perform all the penances imposed upon me — I 
recite my pater-nosters, I observe the fasts, Lent, and all 
the rest." 

" Your reply," said the curate, " is longer than the 
preceding ones, but it is not a whit better ; for you w^ell 
know that many heretics whom the church condemns, 
and all the hypocrites who make a trade of religion, are 
men that attend. mass, fast, recite their prayers, and per- 
form their penances ; and yet neither heretics nor hypo- 
crites are Christians." 

The little group of listeners passed from one degree of 
surprise to another. Every one was afraid his own turn 
to be questioned would come next, except a lad of eight 
or ten years, who stood eagerly listening to the conversa- 
tion ; it was to him that the curate next addressed himself 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIQ. U 

" Tell me, my little Joseph, what is necessary in order 
to be a Christian?" 

" We must love our heavenly Father, sir, and be very 
good." 

" ' I thank thee. Father,' " exclaimed the curate, 
raising his eyes to heaven — " ' I thank thee, Father, 
Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these 
things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed 
them unto babes.' Yes, my friends, it is the senti- 
ments of the heart that constitute a Christian. He that 
has faith in Jesus Christ to pardon his sins, and who being 
thus pardoned loves God with all his heart, and his neigh- 
bor as himself, that man is a Christian. In a word, re- 
ligion does not consist in the ceremonies which our feet, 
Dur hands, or our lips perform, but in faith and love 
dwelling in our hearts." 

Here the curate finished his remarks and retired. 

The new doctrine which had so much astonished our 
good peasants, will not appear so strange to our reader 
when he learns that the curate had been for some time 
much absorbed in reading a large volume recently inher- 
ited by him from the estate of an uncle ; and that this 
reading, in which he might be seen engaged morning and 
night, preceding and following it by prayer, had more than 
once made him forget his breviary, and had begun to 
modify his religious opinions. He thought he saw in his 
church more than one thing that was not right, and yet, 
not being quite clear about it all, he continued for the 
present both to read his book and to say mass. 

But on the occasion just referred to he had wounded 
the self-love of the schoolmaster, who in order to revenge 
himself mentioned the famous conversation to the vicar ; 
be in his turn reported it to the bishop ; and on the next 
Thursday the curate received the following letter from his 
superior, who was at the same time his uncle and friend : 

" My t^^ar Nephew and Brother in Jesus Christ — 
[t has been reported to me that in your discourse at church 



4 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

last Sabbath, you used language, the natural inference 
from which would be, the uselessness and foliy of all the 
holy practices of our church, and which would put the 
salvation of souls wholly beyond the control of the priest. 
You are well aware how dangerous such doctrines would 
be, and I am persuaded that your language has not 
been rightly understood. You probably designed to say 
that all these practices ought to be accompanied by right 
feelings in the heart, but that the outward form and the 
inwaid affection are equally essential; that if faith and 
repentance on the part of the believer are necessary, it is 
no less indispensable to have the services of a priest in 
order to obtain that faith, to receive that repentance, and 
to perform duly the ceremonies of baptism, confirmation, 
extreme unction, etc., without which salvation is impos- 
sible. I hope, therefore, that you will reply to me in 
accordance with this view of the subject, and will also 
explain yourself in the same manner to your people in 
your next sermon, 

" With fraternal salutations, I am, etc." 

The curate perused and reperused this letter, and 
found in it something which awakened repugnance in 
both his understanding and his heart. And yet he hardly 
knew how to reply to it. He therefore delayed his answer, 
and during the time of this delay it was noticed that he 
shut himself up in his study still more frequently, for the 
purpose of prayer and to study his Bible, as could be seen 
from the central walks of his garden, upon which his win- 
dow opened. At length, after some weeks of study, he 
wrote the following letter in reply : 

" Sir, and dear Uncle — I did say that all outward 
ceremonies cannot secure to us salvation ; and to-day, 
after much prayer to God and study of his word, I still 
say the same-. 

" There are only three theories possible : salvation is 
to be obtained either (1) by the ceremonies alone, and in 
this case the greatest criminals could be saved, even 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 5 

though they should die impenitent, which you do not be- 
lieve any more than I ; or else (2) the outward ceremonies 
of religion and the sentiments of the heart are eqiccdly 
indis2')ensaUe, which you believe to be true, but I will 
endeavor to show to be false ; or (3) true faith in Christ. 
will save us, even ivithout the ordhiances of the church. 

" If baptism, confirmation, fasting, the mass, extreme 
unction, etc., are essential to salvation, Mary Magdalene, 
whom Christ pardoned, the thief whom our Lord prom- 
ised to receive into paradise, and St. Stephen who perished 
as a martyr, are not saved ; for in the days of Mary Mag- 
dalene the mass was never said, the penitent thief had no 
time to be baptised, and St. Stephen could not receive 
extreme unction. If the forms of the church are neces- 
sary in order to salvation, Christian sailors thrown b}r 
shipwreck on a desert island. Christians carried captive 
into a heretical country, or savages converted by the sim- 
ple reading of the Bible and remaining in their own coun- 
try, far from priests and sacraments — all these men in spite 
of their right feelings, their faith, and their love, could not 
be saved, for lack of doing what they could tiot do. If our 
ceremonies were absolutely necessary to salvation, a bad 
priest, either through caprice or hatred, by refusing abso- 
lution to one of his dying parishioners, might secure his 
eternal ruin. 

" If you say these are only exceptions, and that in such 
cases one may be saved without our religious forms, I 
reply. Then these forms are not indispensable ; a man may 
sometimes be saved without them ; and if one can be 
saved without them, why not another ? If the grace of 
God alone was enough for St. Stephen, why should it not 
be enough for me ? If one can be saved without priestly 
absolution in a desert island, why not in my village ? la 
God less mighty in one century than in another, or in some 
countries than in others ? 

" And, my dear uncle, what simple common-sense tells 
us, the word of God also declares. Listen to these words ; 

16* 



6 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

• To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto 
me ? saith the Lord ; incense is an abomination unto me. 
Cease to do evil, learn to do well ; seek judgment, relieve 
the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.' 
Says king David, ' Thou desirest not sacrifice, else would 
I give it ; the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; a 
broken and a contrite heart, God, thou wilt not despise.' 
' The Lord looketh on the heart.' 

" And yet, rny lord, do not think that I desire to abol- 
ish all ceremonies ; some of them I believe to have been 
established by Jesus Christ himself, and therefore to be 
good and useful. But it is one thing to say that a cere- 
mony and a sacrament are useful, and another to say they 
are indispensable to salvation. 

" But follow out to its consequences the unhappy prin- 
ciple adopted by our church, of the necessity of sacraments 
and priests to the salvation of believers, and you will be 
terrified at the abuses resulting from it. Our church has 
declared these ceremonies necessary, and the heart of 
man, naturally corrupt, has eagerly seized this principle 
and pushed it still further. The more men have regarded 
external forms as essential, the more they have thought 
it possible to dispense with right affections ; so that each 
one, according to his taste, has been able to continue 
the sinful indulgence dearest to his heart, while imposing 
some additional tasks upon his body. For a man will 
readily consent to all other privations and sacrifices, pro- 
vided you leave him free to cherish the idol of his heart; 
one man avarice, another pride, and another impurity. 
He will give you his time, his money, and his pains ; he 
will submit to fasts, confessions, and penances ; he will 
regard all this as good, useful, necessary, and indispensable 
to salvation ; he will even attach to it more importance 
than you wish, that he may the more easily gratify his 
ruling passion. This, sir, is a truth of which I have 
witnessed a thousand illustrations in my church, and to 
which, I confess, my own experience enables me to tes- 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 7 

tify. More than once have I observed that after attend- 
ing mass in the morning, I have felt free to act with 
greater self-indulgence in tlie evening. More than once 
have I observed the fast with strictness, secretly purpos 
iiig to make up for it afterwards. At other times, wher. 
tempted to sin, I have yielded the more readily from 
thinking I would soon confess and obtain absolution. 
A.fter confession I have found myself more careless than 
before ; it seemed to me that my conscience, being relieved 
of its load by priestly absolution, might now without any 
great danger burden itself with a fresh sin! 0, sir, how 
deceitful and desperately wicked is the heart. One must 
study himself with care, in order to discover this ; but 
surely, if any have not yet found it out in themselves, it 
is because they wish for nothing better than self-deceit. 

" Let us therefore tell the people the whole truth. Let 
us teach them, that though ceremonies may be useful as 
expressive of the sentiments of the heart, after all they are 
nothing but symbols. Let us tell them that it is to the 
inner man the attention must be turned, and that by study- 
ing themselves they will learn the truth of the words of 
the gospel, that men are " filled with all unrighteousness, 
fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness ; full 
of envy, murder, debate, deceit, malignity ; whisperers, 
backbiters, haters of God, despiteful, proud," etc. And 
when these unhappy sinners become profoundly sensible 
of their spiritual misery, let us open to them the treasure 
of salvation — let us teach them that an expiatory victim 
has died for them, that Christ has " borne our sins in his 
own body upon the tree;" that his blood has been shed 
for the remission of the sins of many — let us assure them 
tliat God bestows upon them a heaven they have not mer- 
ited ; and if they dare not believe in so great a blessing, 
let us open the Bible to them that they may read for 
themselves these precious words so long concealed, ' By 
grace ye are saved, through faith ; and that not of your- 
Belvcs ; it is the gift of (,Tod.' 'Therefore being justified 



8 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

by faitli, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
Christ.' May God grant, my dear uncle, that these prom- 
ises of the Bible may rejoice your heart as they have 
cheered mine. 

" Receive, etc." 

Three days from this time the bishop sent a substitute 
to take the place of our curate, who was at the same time 
invited to go and pass several weeks at the residence of 
his superior. The bishop was a venerable man, charac- 
terized by sincerity and good faith. He had never in- 
dulged the least doubt as to the authority of his " holy 
mother church." Like a respectful and submissive son, 
he devoted himself to her most minute observances, so 
that his health had suffered thereby. Seeking continually 
an inward peace which he could not find, and feeling an 
urgent necessity of some assurance of salvation, he fol- 
lowed up his fasts with pilgrimages, and his pilgrimages 
with haircloths, etc. All this greatly exhausted his body, 
but brought little tranquillity to his soul. He was always 
demanding of himself whether he had yet done enough to 
gain heaven, and trembling in himself at the thought that 
he was near to its gate, perhaps but a few steps distant, 
and yet still liable to fall into hell. New inflictions, new 
fears ; and thus his life rolled away, divided between 
bodily sufferings and mental anguish. It is easy to see 
from this, with what design he had summoned to his pres- 
ence the poor curate ; he hoped to do a good work in 
reclaiming him to opinions more in accordance with those 
of his church, from which he saw him rapidly falling 
away. « 

The curate presented himself at the residence of the 
bishop according to his request. The latter received 
him kindly, and at first said nothing of this matter. On 
the morrow he invited his nephew to walk with him 
in the park for the sake of privacy, and there, with no 
witnesses but three or four children who were watching 
a flock near by, he at length introduced the great subject. 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 9 

" Tell me, my dear nephew, whence come these new 
doctrines, so contrary to those of the church. Is it not 
Satan who has suggested them to you ?" 

" No, sir ; it is the Bible." 

" This, then, is the reason why you have distributed, 
as I understand, one hundred copies of this book among 
your people." 

" I could not think I was doing amiss in laying before 
the eyes of my people the words God has addressed to 
us all." 

" But are you not aware that the common people can 
not understand this book, which ought to be read and 
explained only by priests?" 

" No, sir, I am not con\dnced of this ; I find, on the 
contrary, that God has judged that all could understand 
it, since he has directed all to read it. Thus Jesus said 
to the Jews, 'Search the Scriptures.' The psalmist says, 
* The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul, 
making wise the simple.' Moses directs the king to read 
the book of the law ' all the days of his life ;' and says to 
all the people, ' Lay up these my words in your heart and 
in your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your hand ; 
write them upon the door-posts of thy house.' Luke ap- 
proves the men of Berea for comparing the preaching of 
Paul with the word of God. Paul, writing his epistles to 
various churches, does not address himself to the priests 
alone, but says, ' To all that be at Rome ;' ' To all that in 
every place call upon the name of Jesus Christ,' etc. 
Now if all the Israelites in Moses' days, all the Jews in 
the tim.e of Christ, and all the inhabitants of Rome and 
of Achaia could read the Bible, I see not why all Chris- 
tians in our days may not also read it." 

" But do you not know," replied the bishop, " that the 
Bible is obscure, and cannot be understood by all?" 

The curate smiled as he answered, " You shall judge 
for yourself." At the same time he beckoned to the chil- 
dren who weie tending sheep near by, to come to him ; 



10 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

and when our little urchins of ten or a dozen years a<^6 
were there in a semicircle before the bishop, the curate 
said to the youngest, " My child, ' Thou shalt love the 
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, 
and with all thy mind.' Do you understand me ?" 

•' Oh yes, sir; we all ought to love our heavenly Fa- 
ther very, very much." 

" And you," said he to the next, " listen to me. * There 
is none righteous ; there is none that doeth good ; no, not 
one.' Do you understand what I say ?" 

The boy dropped his eyes ; he understood the words 
very well, for his conscience had instantly applied them to 
himself; and as he had just been striking one of his com- 
rades, as the winding up of a little dispute between them, 
he replied, " It was he that begun it ; and he kicked me too." 

" It was not I," said the other, " it was you." 

" No," said a little girl, " they were both of them to 
blame." 

" And you, my little friend," said the curate, " listen. 
Christ has ' died for our sins ;' and ' there is now no con- 
demnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.' ' Believe 
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' What 
does that mean, my child?" 

" That means, sir, that God forgives our sins, if we 
love Jesus Christ." 

" And you," said he to the fourth, " listen. ' If any 
man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all 
men liberally.' ' Pray without ceasing.' What do these 
words mean ?" 

" That we must beg our heavenly Father to make us 
very wise and good." 

"Very well, my children; do not quarrel any more; 
love Jesus Christ who died to obtain the pardon of your 
sins, and pray to God to make you very good, and you 
shall go to heaven." The children thanked him, and ran 
back to their flock. 

" Well, sir," said the curate to his bishop, " it seems 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 11 

that these children have understood my words well 
enough." 

" No wonder," replied he, " they were so simple." 

" Yes ; but these simple words were exactly the lan- 
guage of the Bible; and if these children understand 
them, 1 see not why their fathers and mothers may not 
understand them also." 

" But all the passages of the Bible are not so clear cs 
those you have repeated." 

" I acknowledge that; but even if the humble believer 
should understand only these four passages, in all the 
Bible, would it not be well worth reading ? Besides, 
experience and good sense agree in saying, that after 
reading the Bible for some time with prayer, the simplest 
believer will soon find many clear passages that aid him 
to understand others less clear : what he has well learned 
will help him to learn yet more, and most of the obscure 
places will become plain. When a friend sends us a let- 
ter, in which a few words here and there are not easily 
read, we do not throw the letter away, but read it again 
and again, until we make out the illegible words h} the 
aid of those which precede and follow them." 

" But," said the bishop, somewhat embarrassed, " in 
order to remove all these difficulties, is it not best to sub- 
mit the Scriptures to the interpretation of councils, whose 
decisions are controlled by the Holy Spirit according to 
promise ?" 

" And why," said the curate, " may not the Holy Spirit, 
who is able to direct whole councils, also guide aright the 
mind of the simple believer who shall humbly implore 
his aid? That promise of the Saviour was not made to 
councils only, but to all whom the Lord our God shall 
call." 

*' But then, if every body may read and interpret the 
Bible, you will have as many creeds as there are indi- 
viduals ; while by submitting the Bible to the interpreta- 
tion of councils, you will secure one uniform faith." 



12 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

" I do not think so ; for, how should uniformity come 
any better from the decrees of councils, than from the 
reading of the Scriptures ? Will it be easier to under- 
stand the Latin of the council of Trent, than the Latin of 
the Bible?" 

" No ; but the priest is there, to explain to the simple 
believer the decrees of the council." 

" But then, will it be easier for the believer to under- 
stand the French of his curate speaking from the desk, 
than the French of De Sacy speaking in his translation 
of the Bible ? I would rather read the text than the 
comment ; the Bible is worth more than the explanations, 
unless indeed it be pretended, that when God speaks, 
men know better than he does what he means to say, and 
can make themselves understood better than he can." 

" Well," said the bishop impatiently, " what do you 
wish to conclude from all this?" 

" I conclude from this, that since the Bible is the 
word of God, every man is bound to go to it and draw 
from it his rule of faith and practice, without any one's 
having a right to impose any other rule upon him ; and 
that if the phiin believer ought to give heed to his pas- 
tor, it is only so long as his instructions accord with the 
Scriptures. Then, the faith of the Christian will be an 
enlightened faith; and the more enlightened, the firmer. 
Then the Christian will be able to say in his conscience 
that he obeys God and not men, since he goes for direc- 
tion to that book which all Christian communions are 
bound to acknowledge as the source of all religion — as 
the very word of God. Is not the water of a stream most 
limpid nearest to the fountain ? And does not every 
mile of its course through the meadow lands render it 
less pure ? Just so with religion. It is purest at its 
source, the very mouth of God. And all the turns it makes 
in passing from lip to lip among men, do they not tend to 
corrupt it ? Let us, therefore, give the Bible to all; and 
then they will understand that is not by vain ceremonies 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 13 

that the sinner is saved, but by the blood of Christ, and 
the renewing of the Holy Ghost." 

The curate spoke with an earnestness which con- 
vinced the bishop that mere persuasion would never 
make him abandon his new sentiments. He therefore 
brought to bear upon him in turn, the fear of injuring his 
prospects of promotion, threats of excommunication from 
Rome, etc. But all was in vain ; the curate always came 
back to this reply : " Show me from the Bible, that I am 
in error, and then I am ready to submit." He returned 
to the duties of his charge, and endured with resignation 
all the little persecutions that were raised against him. 

Some months after this, the bishop was attacked with 
a serious illness, which gained upon him every day. 
The fear, or rather the certainty of approaching death 
added double terrors to his doubts of salvation. He en- 
deavored to gain some assurance of safety, and was 
distressed to find his labor useless. In vain did he say to 
himself, that few holy men had subjected themselves to 
austerities so numerous and severe as his ; conscience con- 
tinually reminded him of his sins, and made him fear he 
had not yet performed penances enough to expiate his 
guilt, in the vicAV of Him who is of purer eyes than to 
behold iniquity. In this troubled state of mind, he rec- 
ollected the calmness and peace which the curate had 
seemed to enjoy during his stay with him ; and he could 
not but ask himself whether this serenity of soul was not 
thefruit of his new religious sentiments, and whether there 
might not be in them something good and true. In the 
dying hour, one is not so careful to keep up appearances 
with the world, as in full health. The bishop at once 
sent for his nephew, saying that he wished to converse 
with him on Serious subjects. 

The curate hastened to the side of the dying man 
" You are welcome here," said the bishop on seeing him 
enter; " take a seat by my bed, and let us be alone for a 



14 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

few moments." When all had retired, the dying bishop 
with a sad and solemn voice thus began : 

" My dear friend, I have no time to lose, and come at 
once to what I wish to say. You are acquainted with my 
manner of life, and know how scrupulously I have per 
formed my religious duties ; and yet I confess to you that 
in this- solemn moment, even after receiving for the last 
time the holy communion, 1 tremble at the thought of 
appearing before my Judge. Something I cannot resist 
tells me I am not prepared to stand before Him ; and 1 
am conscious that I do not, in my last hours, enjoy that 
Christian peace that can look on death with joy, or even 
without dread and terror. This precious serenity of soul 
I have seen in you, my dear brother; and even while per- 
secuting you for your doctrines, I was struck v/ith the 
peace they shed abroad in your heart. Tell me quickly, 
1 beseech you, how you attained it." 

" In this manner," replied the curate : '' I was once in 
the same state of mind in which I now find you. In 
studying my life from day to day, I found new and greater 
defects. The more I strove to live holily, the heavier did 
sin weigh on my conscience. If I did an action the world 
called good, I knew it was evil in the sight of God, because 
vanity or pride always had some part in it. If I strove to 
form a purpose with the glory of God in view, even while 
deciding to do right I found some selfish motive also influ- 
encing me, and thus polluting the fountain. Jn fine, 1 
came even to abhor myself. I had a horror of my life ; 
and what yet more enhanced my terror was, that in read- 
ing my Bible I often met declarations like these : ' The 
wages of sin is death.' ' Cursed is every one that con- 
tinueth not in all things written in the book of the law to 
do them.' ' Whosoever shall keep the whole Jaw. and 
yet offend in one point, he is guilty of *11.' One day, 
almost in despair, I fell upon my knees, smiting my 
breast and crying, ' Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner. 
What must I do, what must I do to be saved?' On rising 



THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 15 

from my knees and opening the Bible, my eye Svion fell on 
the very words I had just spoken, ' What must I do to be 
saved V I hastened on to the words that followed, which 
were an exact answer to my question. XJiey were these : 
' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved.' Believe and be saved, said I to myself; what, is 
it sufficient for me to believe ? Thinking I had not un- 
derstood aright I read the passage again, and found if 
the same : ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou 
shalt be saved.' To understand this better I turned to 
other passages treating of the same subject, and referred 
to in the margin. Of these I found a great many, the 
meaning of which always was, Believe in Jesus Christ, 
and you shall receive the forgiveness of your sins and 
eternal life. I confess, however, that this faith which 
was required of me, and this salvation which was oflered 
to me gratuitously, were at first only in my head without 
sinking into my heart; until one day, the word grace, 
' By grace ye are saved,' fell into my soul like a beam of 
light. ' Grace! ah, now I comprehend it,' said L ' I am 
condemned to hell, as the murderer is to the scaffold ; 
and just as I am about to perish, the King sends me a 
pardon. I owe my Master an enormous debt, by my sins , 
and he remits it all — he shows me this gracQ. Ah, now 
I comprehend that word. How sweet it sounds. How 
powerful it is to chase from my heart every fear. Now, 
living or dying, I am saved. What love my God has 
Bhown for me; and now that I am saved, how can I love 
him as I ought I How sweet will it be to me to do his 
will. How gladly will I deny myself for his service, and 
for the good of those who know not yet the meaning of 
the grace, the pardon, the love of God.' Grace! that 
one word had kindled my whole soul ; and from that 
moment an ever-growing peace was shed abroad in 
my heart. I have proved the fulness of the Saviour's 
promise, ' My peace I give unto you ; not as the world 
givelh, give I unto you; let not your h«irt be troubled, 



16 THE CHRISTIAN CATHOLIC. 

neither let it be afraid.' Since that day, I feel an urgent 
desire to make known this good news to my brethren; 
and am unspeakably happy when my words fall upon a 
heart which th^ Lord has opened, and I see one soul more 
escape from hell and turn unto the Lord." 

'• But, my dear brother," said the bishop, greatly 
moved by these earnest words, " what guarantee have 
ycu that this assurance of salvation you think you feel, is 
indeed a reality ratified in heaven by God himself, and 
not merely a work of your imagination ?" 

" My guarantee is the authority of God's word, and the 
witness of the Holy Spirit in my heart, the same which 
made St. Paul say that the Spirit of God witnessed with 
his spirit that God had adopted him. Yes, my dear uncle, 
it is not to yourself that you must look for your salvation ; 
your good works, always imperfect, will never give you 
security. You need an almighty, a perfect, a holy Sav- 
iour. You need Jesus Christ the Son of God, God man- 
ifested in flesh. Never, till you have such a support, 
will you cease to fear falling. Never, till you have sucli 
an Advocate before God, will you be sure of not being 
condemned." 

During subsequent days, the two friends had many 
conversations together. The bishop's bodily health became 
worse and worse, but his soul gained daily new light and 
strength. He listened much more than he spoke. He 
had various portions of the New Testament read to him 
by his nephew, and among others, the epistle to the Ro- 
mans, and that to the Galatians. At length, on Sabbath 
evening, while his nephew was ending a prayer at his 
bedside with these words : "Oh Lord, we rely not upon 
ourselves, nor upon our works, in order to be saved, but 
solely upon Jesus Christ,^' the bishop raised his eyes to 
heaven, and breathed forth with his last sigh the words 
"Amen, Lord, Amen." 



]\o. 569. 



THE 



PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON. 



BY THE LATE REV. MATTHEW HENRY. 




" A CERTAIN man had two sons : and the younger of 
them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of 
goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his 
living. And not many days after, the younger son gath- 
ered all together, and took his journey into a far country, 
and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And 
when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in 
that land ; and he began to be in want. And he went and 
joined himself to a citizen of that country ; and he sent 
him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain 
have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did 
eat ; and no man gave unto him. And when he came to 



2 THE PRODIGAL SOW. 

himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's 
have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hun- 
ger I I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto 
him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and before 
thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make 
me as one of thy hired servants. And he arose, and 
came to his father. But when he was yet a great way 
off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, 
and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said 
unto him. Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in 
thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. 
But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best 
robe, and put it on him ; and put a ring on his hand, and 
shoes on his feet* and bring hither the fatted calf, and 
kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: for this my son 
was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found." 
Luke 15:11-24. 

The intention of this parable is to show how pleasing 
tu God is the conversion of sinners, even of great sinners ; 
and how ready he is to receive them upon their repent- 
ance. It sets forth the riches of gospel grace, and while 
the world stands will be of unspeakable use to poor sin- 
ners, both to direct and encourage them to repent an'l 
return to God. 

I. We have the Prodigal's request: "He said to his 
father," proudly and pertly enough, " Father, give me." 
He might have, said. If you please, give me ; but he 
makes an imperious demand, " Give me the portion of 
goods that falleth to me" — not so much as you think fit to 
allot me, but that which falls to me as my due. And 
why did the prodigal desire to have his portion in his 
own hands ? Was it that he might apply himself to 
business, and trade with it, and so make it more ? No , 
he had no thought of that ; he was weary of his father's 
government, of the good order and discipline of his fa- 
ther's family ; and was fond of liberty falsely so called, a 
liberty to sin. See the folly of many young men, who 



THE PRODIGAL SON. 3 

are religiously educated, but are impatient of the confine- 
ment of their education, and never think themselves their 
own masters till they have broken all God's bands in sun- 
der, and cast away his cords from them: binding them- 
selves with the cords of their own lusts. Here is the 
origin of the apostasy of sinners from God. They will 
not submit to the rules of God's government ; they would 
be as gods, knowing no other good than that which pleases 
themselves. 

The condition of the prodigal upon his departure from 
his father's house, represents to us the sinful and misera- 
ble state into which man is fallen. 

1. A sinful state is a state oi departure and distance 
from God. " He took his journey into a far country." 
It is the sinfulness of sin that it is an apostasy from God : 
sinners have fled from God ; they say unto God, " Depart ;" 
and they get as far from him as they can. It is the 
misery of sinners that they are afar off from God, afar 
from Him who is the fountain of all good, and that they 
are going farther and farther from him. What is hell 
itself but being afar ofTfrom God ? 

2. A sinful state is a S]jendmg state. " He wasted his 
substance with riotous living ; devoured it with harlots ;" 
and in a little time "he had spent all." He bought fine 
clothes, spent a great deal in meat and drink, treated 
high, and associated with those who helped to make an 
end of what he had in a little time. 

3. A sinful state is a tvantiJig state. " When he had 
spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land ; and 
he began to be in want.'* " Wilful waste brings woful 
want." This represents the misery of sinners, who have 
thrown away their own mercies, the favor of God, the 
strivings of the Spirit, and the admonitions of conscience. 
They are like a land where famine reigns, " a mighty 
famine ;" for the heaven is as brass, the dews of God's 
favor and blessing are withheld, and the earth becomes 
as iron ; the sinner's heart, which should bring forth good 



4 THE PRODIGAL SON. 

things, is dry and barren, and has not any good in it. Such 
sinners are wretchedly and miserably poor, and that 
which aggravates it is, that they brought themselves 
into that condition, and keep themselves in it, by refus- 
ing the ofTered supplies. 

4. A sinful state is a vile, servile state. When this 
young man's riot had brought him to want, his want 
brought him to servitude. " He went, and joined himselt 
to a citizen of that country." The same wicked life 
which was before represented by riotous living, is here 
represented by servile living, for sinners are slaves. The 
devil is the " citizen of that country :" sinners join them- 
selves to him, and hire themselves into his service to do 
his work. The business of his servants is " to make pro- 
vision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof," which is 
no better than feeding swine. 

5. A sinful state is a state oi perpetual dissatisfactio/i. 
" He would fain have filled his belly with the husks that 
the swine did eat." That which sinners, when they de- 
part from God, promise themselves satisfaction in, will 
certainly disappoint them ; " they are laboring for that 
which satisfieth not." Isa. 55 : 2. 

6. A sinful state is a state of death. " This my son was 
dead." A sinner is not only dead in law, as he is under 
a sentence of death, he is dead in trespasses and sins, 
destitute of spiritual life ; has no union with Christ ; no 
spiritual senses exercised ; does not live to God ; and is 
therefore dead. 

7. A sinful state is a lost state. "This my son was 
lost" — lost to every thing good — lost to all virtue and 
honor — lost to his father's house ; they had no joy of him. 
Souls which are separated from God, are lost souls — lost ar 
a traveller who is out of his way ; and if infinite mercy 
prevent not, will soon be lost, lost irrecoverably, as a ship 
which sinks at sea. 

II. We have his penitent return. When we find the 
insufhciency of the world to make us happy, and have 



THE PRODIGAL SON. 6 

tried all other ways of relief for our poor souls in vain : 
when we see what miserable comforters, what physicians 
of no value, all are, but Christ, for a soul which groan? 
under the guilt and power of sin, then we apply our- 
selves to Him. 

1. The preparative to this return was consideration. 
"He said within himself," that is, he reasoned within 
himself, when he recovered his right mind, " How many 
hired servants of my father's have bread enough, and to 
spare." Consideration is the first step towards conversion. 
To consider is to retire into ourselves, to reflect upon 
ourselves, to compare one thing with another, and to 
determine wisely. 

He considered how bad his condition was: "I perish 
with hunger" — not only, I am hungry, but, I peridi with 
hunger. Sinners will not come to the service of Christ, 
till they are brought to see themselves just ready to 
perish in the service of sin and Satan ; and the consid- 
eration of that should drive us to Christ : " Master, save 
us ; we perish." And though we be thus driven to Christ, 
he will not therefore reject us, nor think himself dis- 
honored by our being forced to him, but rather honored 
by his being applied to in a dcspcirate case. 

He considered how much better it might be if he 
M'ould return : " How many hired servants of my father'r 
have bread enough, and to spare." In our heavenly 
Father's house, there is bread for all his family. There 
is enough, and to spare. 

2. We have the purpose of the prodigal : " I will arise, 
and go to mij father ^ He will not take any longer time 
to consider of it, but will forthwith, arise and go. Though 
he is in a far country, a great w ly off from his father's 
iiouse, yet, far as it is, he will re '.urn. 

He would confess his fault and folly : " I have sinned." 
If we plead " not guilty," we put ourselves upon a trial 
by the covenant of innocency, which will certainly con 
demn us : if we plead gnilty, with a contrite, penitent, 
VOL. xiu. 17 



6 THE PRUDIGAL SON. 

and obedient heart, we refer ourselves to the covenant of 
grace, which offers forgiveness to those who confess and 
forsake their sins. 

He would not lessen or excuse his transgression : '' I 
have sinned against Heaven, and hefore thee." Sin is 
an affront to the Majesty of heaven ; it is a forfeiture of 
the glories and joys of heaven, and an opposition to the 
designs of the kingdom of heaven. Sin is committed in 
contempt of God's eye upon us, than which there cannot 
be a greater affront to him. 

He would judge and condemn himself for it : "I am 
no more worthy to be called thy son." It becomes sin- 
ners to acknowledge themselves unworthy to receive any 
favor from God, and to humble and abase themselves 
before him. 

He would nevertheless sue for admission into the fam- 
ily, though it were into the meanest post there : "Make 
me as one of thy hired servants." True penitents have 
a high value for God's house, and the privileges of it, and 
will be glad of any place, so that they may but be in it, 
though it be only as " a door-keeper." Those who return 
to God, from whom they have revolted, cannot but be de- 
sirous in some way to be employed for him, and to be put 
into a capacity of serving and honoring him. 

In all this he would have an eye to his father, as a 
father: "I will arise and go to my father, and will say 
unto him, Father." Viewing God as a Father, and as 
our Father, will be of great use in our repentance, and 
on our return to him. It will make our sorrow for sin 
genuine, our resolutions against it strong, and will also 
encourage us to hope for pardon. God delights to be 
called Father, both by penitents and petitioners. 

3. We have the performance of this purpose: "He 
arose, and came to his father.''^ His good resolve he put 
into execution without delay, and did not adjourn his 
intention till some more convenient season. It is our 
interest to close with convictions speedily. Have we said. 



THE PRODIGAL SON. 7 

*• We will arise, and go ?" Let us immediately arise, and 
go to our heavenly Father. 

III. We have his reception and entertainment with 
Ids father. " He came to his father ;" but was he wel- 
come ? Yes, heartily welcome. By the way, it is an exam- 
ple to parents whose children have been foolish and dis- 
obedient, if they repent and submit themselves, not to be 
harsh and severe with them. But it is chiefly designed 
to set forth the grace and mercy of God to poor sinners 
who repent and return to him, and to show his readiness 
to forgive them. 

1. We have here the great love and affection where- 
with the father received his son. " When he was yet a 
great way off^, his father saw him." He expressed his 
kindness before the son expressed his repentance ; God 
prevents us with the blessings of his goodness : evcc 
before we call, he answers ; for he knows what is withir 
our hearts. 

Here were feet of mercy : " he ran." This intimates 
how swift God is to show mercy. The prodigal comej 
slowly under a burden of shame and fear ; but the tender 
father ran to meet him with encouragement. " He fell 
on his neck, and kissed him." This kiss not only assured 
him of his welcome, but sealed his pardon. And does 
not this show how ready and free and forward the Lord 
Jesus is to receive and entertain poor returning, repenting 
sinners ? 

2. We have the splendid provision which this kind 
father made for the returning prodigal. He came home 
in rags, and his father not only clothed him, but adorned 
him. He said to his servants, " Bring forth the best 
Tobe, and put it on him." The righteousness of Christ is 
the robe in which sinners are clothed ; they "put on the. 
Lord Jesus Christ." Gal. 3 : 27. This is the robe of right- 
eousness, this is the garment of salvation. Isa. 61: 10. 
And " put a ring on his hand," in token of his being 
owned as a branch of the family ; as the earnest of the 



8 THE PRODIGAL SON. 

Spirit is given to those who are sealed to the day of 
redemption. 

He came home barefoot ; his feet perhaps were sore 
with travelling, and his father "put shoes on his feet." 
He came home hungry, and his father said, " Bring hithei 
the fatted calf, and kill it." There is excellent food 
provided by our heavenly Father for all those who arise 
and come to him. Christ himself is the Bread of life ; his 
flesh is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed : in him 
there is a feast for souls, " a feast of fat things." It was a 
great change with the prodigal, who but a short time ago 
would fain have filled his belly with husks. How sweet 
must the supplies of the new covenant be, and the relish 
of its comfort to those who have been laboring in vain for 
satisfaction in temporal things. 

3. We have the great joy and rejoicing which there 
was for his return : " Let us eat, and be merry ; for this 
my son was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is 
found." The conversion of a soul from sin to God, is the 
raising of that soul from death to life, and the finding of 
that which seemed to be lost. It is a great and wonderful 
and happy change. That which was in itself dead, is made 
alive ; that which was lost to God and his church, is found ; 
and that which was unprofitable, becomes profitable. The 
conversion of sinners is greatly pleasing to the God of 
heaven, and to all that belong to his family. " There is 
joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner 
that repenteth." And if there is joy among the angels in 
heaven, there ought also to be joy among the saints on 
earth. We should be glad of the repentance of sinners, 
because it accomplishes God's designs : it is the bringing of 
those to Christ whom the Father had given to him, and in 
. whom he will be for ever glorified. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. S70. 

LIVING, OR DEAD? 

BY THE REV. J. C. RYLE, 

RECTOR OF HELMINGHAM, SUFFOLK. 



"You hath he quickened, who were dead." Ephes. 2:2. 

Beloved Friends and Brethren — Look at the worda 
before your eyes, and ponder them well. Search your 
own hearts, and do not lay down this paper withx)ut 
solemn self-inquiry. I meet you this day with one sim- 
ple question : Are you among the living, or among the 
dead? 

Listen to me while I try to help you to an answer. 
Give me your attention, while I unfold this matter, and 
show you what God has said about it in the Scriptures. 
If I say hard things, it is not because I do not love you. 
I write as I do because I desire your salvation. He is 
your best friend who tells you the truth. 

L First then, let me tell you ivliat ice all are by na- 
ture — ice are dead. 

"Dead" is a strong word, but it is not my own coin- 
ing and invention. I did not choose it. The Holy Ghost 
told Paul to write it down about the Ephesians : "You 
hath he quickened, who were dead." Eph. 2:1. The 
Lord Jesus Christ made use of it in the parable of the 
prodigal son: "This my son was dead, and is alive 
again." Luke 15 : 24, 32. You will read it also in the 
epistle to the Corinthians : "One died for all, then were 
all dead."" 2 Cor. 5: 14. Shall a mortal man be wise 
above that which is written ? Must I not take heed to 
speak that which I find in the Bible, and neJher less nni 
more 1 



2 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

"Dead" is an awful idea, and one that man is mas'- 
unwilling to receive. He does not like to allow the whole 
extent of his soul's disease. He shuts his eyes to the real 
amount of his danger. Many a one will allow me to say 
that naturally most people "are not quite what they 
ought to be : they are thoughtless — they are unsteady — 
they are gay — they are wild — they are not serious 
enough." But dead ? no ; I must not mention it. 
It is going too far to say that. The idea is a stone oi 
stumbling, and a rock of oflence.* 

My dear friends, what we like in religion is of very 
little consequence. The only question is, What is writ- 
ten ? What saith the Lord ? God's thoughts are not 
man's thoughts, and God's words are not man's words. 
God says of every living person who is not a decided 
Christian, be he high or low, rich or poor, old or young, 
he is dead. 

In this, as in every thing else, God's words are right. 
Nothing could be said more correct, nothing more accu- 
rate, nothing more faithful, nothing more true. Stay a 
little, and let me reason this out with you. Come and 
see. 

What should you have said, if you had seen Joseph 
weeping over his father Jacob ? " He fell upon his face, 
and wept upon him, and kissed him." Gen. 50 : 1. But 
there was no reply to his affection. All about that aged 
countenancfe was unmoved, silent, and still. Doubtless 
you would have understood the reason. Jacob was 
dead. 

What should you have thought, if you had seen the 
Amalekite stripping Saul of his royal ornaments in mount 
Gilboa? He "took from him the crown that was upon 

* " That is the reason we are no better, because our disease is not 
perfectly known : that is the reason we are no better, because We 
know not how bad we are." Archbishop Usher's Sermons, preached 
at Oxford, 1G50. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 3 

nis head, and the bracelet that was on his arm." 2 Sam. 
1:10. There was no resistance. Not a muscle moved 
in that proud face. Not a fmger was raised to prevent 
him. And why ? Saul was dead. 

What should you have thought if you had met the 
widow's son in the gate of Nain, lying on a bier, wrapped 
about with grave-ciothes, followed by his weeping mother, 
carried slowly towards the tomb ? Luke 7:12. Doubt- 
less it would have been all clear to you. It would have 
needed no explanation. The young man was dead. 

Now, I say this is the condition of every man by nature 
in the matter of his soul. I say this is the state of the 
vast majority of people around us in spiritual things. God 
calls to them continually, by mercies, by afflictions, by 
ministers, by his word; but they do not hear his voice. 
The Lord Jesus Christ mourns over them, pleads with 
them, sends them gracious invitations, knocks at the door 
of their hearts ; but they do not regard it. The crown 
and glory of their being, that precious jewel their im- 
mortal soul, is being seized, plundered, and taken away ; 
and they are utterly unconcerned. The devil is carry- 
ing them away, day after day, along the broad road that 
leads to destruction ; and they allow him to make them 
his captives without a struggle. And this is going on 
everywhere — all around you, among all classes — through 
the length and breadth of the land. You know it in your 
own consciences while you read this paper. You must 
be aware of it. You cannot deny it. And what then, I 
ask you, can be said more perfectly true, than that which 
God says, we are all by nature spiritually dead? 

Yes ; when a man's heart is cold and unconcerned 
about religion — when his hands are never employed in 
doing God's work — when his feet are not familiar with 
God's ways — when his tongue is seldom or never used 
in prayer and praise — when his ears are deaf to the 
voice of ('hrist in the gospel — when his eyes are blind 



4 LIVING-, OR DEAD? 

to the beauty of the kinfrdom of heaven — when his mind 
is full of the world, and has no room for spiritual things : 
when these marks are to be found in a man, the word 
of the Bible is the right word to use about him, and that 
word is, "dead." 

We may not like tliis, perhaps. We may shut our 
eyes both to facts in tie world, and texts in the word. 
But God's truth must be spoken, and to keep it back does 
positive harm. Truth must be spoken, however condemn- 
ing it may be. So long as a man does not serve God 
with body, soul, and spirit, he is not really alive. So 
long as he puts the fir':t things last and the last first, 
buries his talent like an unprofitable servant, and brings 
the Lord no revenue of honor, so long in God's sight he 
is dead. 'He is not filling the place in creation for which 
he was intended. He if. not using his powers and facul- 
ties as God meant ther.i to be used. The poet's words 
arc strictly true, 

"He only lives who lives to God, 
And all ar ; dead beside." 

This is the true explanation of sin not felt, and ser- 
mons not believed, and food advice not followed, and the 
gospel not embraced, and the world not forsaken, and the 
cross not taken up, and self-will not mortified, and evil 
habits not laid aside, and the Bible seldom read, and the 
knee never bent in prayer. Why is all this on every 
side ? The answer is simple : Men are dead. 

This is the true account of that host of excuses which 
so many make with one consent. Some have no learn- 
ing, and some have no time. Some are oppressed with 
business, and some with poverty. Some have difficulties 
in their own families, and some in their own health. 
Some have peculiar obstacles in their calling, which 
others, we are told, cannot understand; and others have 
peculiar drawbacks at home, and they wait to have them 
removed. But God has a shorter word in the Bible, 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 5 

which describes all these people at once. He says, they 
are dead. 

This is the true explanation of many things which 
wring a faithful minister's heart. Many around him 
never attend a place of worship at all. Many attend so 
irregularly, that it is clear they think it of no importance. 
Many attend once on a Sunday who might just as easily 
attend twice. Many never come to the Lord's table, 
never appear at a week-day means of grace of any kind. 
And why is all this ? Often, far too often, there can only 
be one reply about these people : they are dead. 

See now, dear brethren, how all professing Christians 
should examine themselves and try their own state. It 
is not in churchyards alone where the dead are to be 
found. There are too many inside our churches, and 
close to our pulpits. The land is like the valley in Eze- 
kiel's vision, full of bones, and those very dry. There 
are dead souls in all our parishes, and dead souls in all 
our streets. There is hardly a family in which all live 
to God. There is hardly a house in which there is not 
some one dead. Oh, search and look at home. Prove 
your own selves. 

See too how sad is the condition of all who have gone 
through no spiritual change, whose hearts are still the 
same as in the day they were born. There is a moun- 
tain of division between them and heaven. They have 
yet to pass from death to life. Oh, that they did but see 
and know their danger. Alas, it is one fearful mark of 
spiritual death, that, like natural death, it is not felt. 
We lay our beloved ones tenderly and gently in their 
narrow beds, but they feel nothing of what we do. " The 
dnad," says the wise man, "know not any thing." Eccl 
9 : 5. And this is the case with dead souls. 

See too what reason ministers have to be anxious 
about their congregations. We feel that time is short 

and life is unccrtnin. We know tliat death sniritiinl is 

17# 



6 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

th^ high road that leads to death eternal. Wo fear les^t 
any of you should die in your sins, unprepared, unre- 
newed, impenitent, unchanged. Oh, marvel not if we 
often speak strongly and plead with you warmly. We 
dare not give you flattering titles, amuse you with trifles, 
say smooth things, and cry peace, peace, when life and 
death are at stake, and nothing less. The plague is 
among you. We feel that we stand between the living 
and the dead. We must and will use great plainness of 
speech. "If the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who 
shall prepare himself for the battle ?" 1 Cor. 14 : 8. 

II. Let me tell you, what every man needs who 
U'ould be saved — lie must he quickened and made alive. 

Life is the mightiest of all possessions. From death 
to life is the mightiest of all changes. And no change 
short of this will ever avail to fit man's soul for heaven. 

Yes ; it is not a little mending and alteration, a little 
cleansing and purifying, a little painting and patching, a 
little turning over a new leaf, and putting on a new out- 
side, that is wanted. It is the bringing in of something 
altogether new, the planting within us a new nature, a 
new being, a new principle, a new heart: this alone, and 
nothing less than this, will ever meet the necessities of 
man's soul.* 

To hew a block of marble from the quarry and carve 
it into a noble statue — to break up a waste wilderness 
and turn it into a garden of flowers — to melt a lump of 
iron-stone and forge it into watch-springs — all these are 
mighty changes ; yet they all come short of the change 
which every child of Adam requires, for they are merely 
the same thing in a new form, the same substance in a 
new shape. But man requires the grafting in of that 

* "It is not a little reforming will save the man, no, nor all the 
morality in the world, nor all the common graces of God's Spirit, noi 
the outward change of the life: they will not do, unless we are quick- 
ened, and have a new life wrought in us." Usher's Sermons. 



LIVING, OR Di^AD? 7 

which he had not before. He needs a change as great 
as a resurrection from the dead. He must become a new 
creature. Old things must pass away, and all things must 
become new. He must be born again, born from above, 
born of God. , The natural birth is not a whit more nec- 
essary to the life of the body, than is the spiritual birlh 
to the life of the soul. 

I know well this is a hard saying. I know well the 
children of this world dislike to hear that they must be 
born again. It pricks their consciences. It makes them 
feel they are further off from heaven than they are will- 
ing to allow. It seems like a narrow door which they 
have not yet stooped to enter, and they would fain make 
the door wider, or climb in some other way. But I dare 
not give place by subjection in this matter. I will not 
foster a delusion, and tell people they only need repent a 
little, and stir up a gift they have within them, in order 
to become real Christians. I dare not use any other lan- 
guage than that of the Bible. And I say in the words 
which are written for our learning, we all need to be 
born again, we are all naturally dead and must be made 
alive. 

If you had seen Manasseh king of Judah at one time 
filling Jerusalem with idols, and murdering his children 
in honor of false gods, at another purifying the temple, 
putting down idolatry and living a godly life — if you 
had seen Zaccheus the publican of Jericho at one time 
cheating, plundering, and covetous, at another following 
Christ, and giving half his goods to the poor — if you 
had seen the servants of Nero's household at one time 
conforming to their master's profligate ways, at another 
of one heart and mind with the apostle Paul — if you 
had seen the ancient father Augustine at one time living 
in fornication, at another walking closely with God — it 
you had seen our own reformer Latimer at one time 
preaching earnestly ag:ainst the truth as it is in Jesus, al 



C LIVING, OR DEAD? 

anoilier spending and being spent even to death in its 
cause — if you had seen the New Zealanders, or Tinne- 
velly Hindoos, at one time blood-thirsty, immoral, and 
sunk in abominable superstitions, at another holy, pure, 
and believing Christians — if you had seen these wonder- 
ful changes, or any of them, I ask you what you would 
have said ? Would you have been content to ca?l them 
nothing more than amendments and alterations ? Would 
you have been satisfied with saying that Augustine had 
reformed his ways, and Latimer turned over a new leaf? 
Verily, if you said no raore than this, the very stones 
would cry out. I tell } ou in all these cases there was 
nothing less than a new birth, a resurrection of human 
nature, a quickening of the dead. These are the right 
words to use. All other language is weak, poor, beggarly, 
unscriptural, and short of the truth. 

Now I will not shrink from saying plainly, we all 
need the same kind of change, if we are to be saved. 
The difference between us and any of those I have just 
named is far less than it appears. Take off the outward 
crust, "and you will find the same nature beneath in us 
and them, an evil nature, requiring a complete change. 
The face of the earth is very different in difierent cli- 
mates, but the heart of the earth, I am told, is every- 
where the same : go where you will from one end to the 
other, the granite rock is always beneath your feet, if you 
bore down deep enough. And it is so with men's hearts. 
Their customs and their colors, their ways and their 
laws, may all be unlike, but the inner man is the same ^ 
their hearts are alike at the bottom, all stony, all hard, 
all ungodly, all needing to be thoroughly renewed. The 
Englishman and the New Zealander stand on the same 
level in this matter. Both are naturally dead, and both 
need to be made alive. Both are children of the same 
father Adam who fell by sin, and both need to be born 
again and made children of God. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 9 

Whatever part of the globe we live in, our eyes need 
to be opened : naturally we never see our sinfulness, 
guilt, and danger. Whatever nation we belong to, our 
ii7iderstandings need to be enlightened :* naturally we 
know little or nothing of the plan of salvation ; like the 
Babel-builders, we think to get to heaven our own way. 
Whatever church we may belong to, our ivilh need to be 
bent in the right direction ; naturally we should never 
choose the things which are for our peace, Ave should 
never come to Christ. Whatever be our rank in life, out 
affections need to be turned to things above ; naturally 
we only set them on things below, earthly, sensual, short- 
lived, and vain. Pride must give place to humility, 
self-righteousness to self-abasement, carelessness to seri- 
ousness, worldliness to holiness, unbelief to faith, i^a 
tan's dominion must be put down within us, and the king- 
dom of God set up. Self must be crucified, and Christ 
must reign. Till these things coine to pass, we are dead 
as stones. When these things begin to take place, and 
not till then, we are alive. 

I dare say this sounds like foolishness to some, but 
many a living man could stand up this day and testify 
that it is true. Many a one could tell you that he knows 
it all by experience, and that he does indeed feel himself 
a new man. He loves the things that once he hated, 
and hates the things that once he loved. He has new 
habits, new companions, new ways, new tastes, new feel- 
ings, new opinions, new sorrows, new joys, new anxieties, 
new pleasures, new hopes, and new fears. f In short, the 

* ''Man's understanding is so darkened that he can see nothing ol 
God in God, nothing of holiness in holiness, nothing of good in good, 
nothing of evil in evil, nor any thing of sinfulness in sin. Nay, it is 
60 darkened that he fancies himself to see good in evil, and evil in 
good, happiness in sin, and misery in holiness." Bishop Beveridge. 

t " How wonderfully doth the new-born soul difter from his former 
self. Ho liVeth a new life, he walketh in a new way, he steercth his 
course by a new compass ami towards a new coast. His principle is 



lO LIVING, OR DEAD? 

whole bias and current of his being^ is changed. Ask his 
nearest relations and friends, and they would bear witness 
to it. Whether they liked it or not, they would be obliged 
to confess he was no longer the same. 

Many a one could tell you that once he did not think 
himself such a very great transgressor. At any rate, he 
fancied he was no worse than others. Now he would say 
with the apostle Paul, he feels himself the chief of sin- 
ners.* 

Once he did not consider he had a bad heart. He 
might have his faults, and be led away by bad company 
and temptations, but he thought he had a good heart at 
the bottom. Now, he would tell you he knows no heart 
to bad as his own. He finds it deceitful above all things, 
and desperately wicked. 

Once he did not suppose it was a very hard matter to 
get to heaven. He thought he had only to repent and 
say a few prayers and do what he could, and Christ would 
make up what was wanting. Now he believes the way 
is narrow and few find it. He is convinced he could 

new, his pattern is new, his practices are new, his projects are new. 
all is new. He ravels out all he had wove before, and employetb 
bimself wholly about another work." George Swinnocke, 1660. 

* "I cannot pray, but I sin ; I cannot hear, or preach a sermon, 
but I sin; I cannot give an alms, or receive the Lord's supper, but I 
sin; nay, I cannot so much as confess my sins, but my confessions are 
still aggravations of them. My repentance needs to be repented of, 
my tears want washing, and the very washing of my tears needs still 
to be washed over again with the blood of my Redeemer," Bishop 
Beveridge. 

"Woe is me, that men should think there is any thing in me. He 
is :ny witness, before whom I am as crystal, that the secret house- 
devils that bear me too often company, that the corruption which 
I find within, make me go with low sails." Rutherford's Letters, 
1637. 

"I am sick of all I do, and stand astonished that the Redeemer 
still continues to make use of and bless me. Surely I am more foolish 
than any man; no one roceives so much, and does so little." Wliito- 
field's Letters. 



LlYINa, OR DEAD; 11 

never have made his own peace with God. He is per- 
suaded that nothing but the blood of Christ could wash 
away his sins. His only hope is to be justified by faith 
without the deeds of the law. 

Once he could see no beauty and excellence in the 
Lord Jesus Christ. He could not understand some min- 
isters speaking so much about Him. Now he would tell 
you He is the pearl above all price, the chiefest among 
ten thousand — his Redeemer, his Advocate, his Priest, 
his King, liis Physician, his Shepherd, his all. 

Once he thought lightly of sin. He could not see the 
necessity of being so particular about it. He could not 
think a man's words and thoughts and actions were of 
such importance, and required such watchfulness. Now 
he would tell you, sin is the abominable thing which he 
hates, the sorrow and burden of his life. He longs to be 
more holy. He can enter thoroughly into Whitefield's de- 
sire, " I want to go where I shall neither sin myself, nor 
see others sin any more." 

Once he found no pleasure in means of grace. The 
Bible was neglected. His prayers, if he had any, were 
a mere form. Sermons were a weariness. Now all is 
altered. These things are the food, the comfort, the 
delight of his soul. 

Once he disliked earnest-minded Christians. He 
shunned them as melancholy, low-spirited, weak people. 
Now they are the excellent of the earth, of whom he can- 
not see too much. He is never so happy as he is in their 
company. He feels, if all men and women were saints, 
it would be heaven upon earth. 

Once he cared only for this world, its pleasures, its 
business, its occupations, its rewards. Now he looks 
upon it as an empty, unsatisfying place — an inn, a lodg- 
ing, a training-school for the life to come. His treasure is 
in iieaven. His home is beyond the grave. 

I ask you, once more, what is all this but a new life '^ 



12 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

Such a change as I have described is no vision and fancy. 
It is a real actual thing, which not a few in tLiis world 
have known or felt. It is not a picture of my own im- 
agining. It is a true thing which some of you could find 
at this moment hard by your own doors. But wherever 
such a change does take place, there you see the thing ot 
which I am now speaking — you see the dead made alive, 
a new man, a new creature, a soul born again. 

I would to God that changes such as this were more 
common. I would to God there were not such multitudes, 
of whom we must say even weeping, they know nothing 
about the matter. But common or not, one thing I say 
plainly, this is the kind of change we all need. I do not 
hold that all must have exactly the same experience. I 
allow most fully that the change is different, in degree, 
extent, and intensity, in different persons. Grace may be 
weak, and yet true; life may be feeble, and yet real. 
But I do confidently affirm, we must all go through some- 
thing of this kind, if ever we are saved. Till this sort of 
change has taken place, there is no life in us at all. We 
may be living churchmen, but we are dead Christians.* 

Take it home, every man or woman that reads this 
paper, take it home to your own conscience and look at 
it well. Some time or other, between the cradle and the 
grave, all who would be saved must be made alive. The 
words which good old Berridge had graven on his tombe 
stone are faithful and true : " Reader, art thou born again ? 
Remember, no salvation without a new birth." 

See now, my dear friends, what an amazing gulf there 

* "If we be still our old selves, no changelings at all, the same 
men that we came into the world, without defalcation of our corrup- 
tions, without addition of grace and sanctification, surely we must 
seek us another father, we are not yet the sons of God." Bisiiop 
Hall, 1652. 

"If thou hast any thing less than regeneration, believe me, thou 
canst never see heaven. There is no hope of heaven till then — til) 
thou art born again." Archbishop Usher's Sermons. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 13 

is between, the Christian in name and form, and the 
Christian in deed and truth. It is not the difference of 
one being a little better, and the other a little worse than 
his neighbor ; it is the difference between a state of life 
and a state of death. The meanest blade of grass that 
grows upon a Highland mountain, is a more noble object 
than the fairest wax flower that was ever formed ; for it 
has that which no science of man can impart, it has life. 
The most splendid marble statue in Greece or Italy, is 
nothing by the side of the poor sickly child that crawls 
over the cottage floor ; for with all its beauty it is dead. 
And the weakest member of the family of Christ is fax 
higher and more precious in God's eyes, than the most 
gifted man of the world. The one lives unto God, and 
shall live for ever ; the other with all his intellect is stili 
dead in sins. 

you that have passed from death to life, you have 
reason indeed to be thankful. Remember what you once 
were by nature — dead. Think what you are now by 
grace — alive. Look at the dry bones thrown up from the 
graves. Such were ye ; and who has made you to differ? 
Go and fall lov/ before the footstool of your God. Bless 
him for his grace, his free distinguishing grace. Say to 
him often, "Who am I, Lord, that thou hast brought me 
hitherto ? Why me ; why hast thou been merciful unto 
me?" 

III. Let me tell you, in the third place, in wtiat way 

ALONE THIS QUICKENING CAN BE BROUGHT ABOUT blj ickal 

means a dead soid can be made alive. 

Surely, if I did not tell you this, it would be cruelty 
to wTite what I have written. Surely, it would be lead- 
ing you into a dreary wilderness, and then leaving you 
without bread and water ; it would be like marchins; 
you down to the Red sea, and then bidding you walk 
over ; it would be commanding you to make brick like 
Pharaoh, and yet refusing to provide you with straw , it 



14 LlVINa, OR DEAD? 

would be like tying your hands and feet, and then desiring 
you to war a good warfare, and so run as to obtain the 
prize. I will not do so. I will not leave you, till I have 
pointed out the wdcket-gate towards which you must run. 
By God's help, I will set before you the full provision 
there is made for dead souls. Listen to me a little lon- 
ger, and I will once more show you what is written in the 
Scripture of truth. 

One thing is very clear, we cannot work this mighty 
change ourselves. It is not in us. We have no strength 
or power to do it. We may change our sins, but we can- 
not change our hearts. We may take up a new^ way, bat 
not a new nature. We may make considerable reforms 
and alterations. We may lay aside many outward bad 
habits, and begin many outward duties. But we cannot 
create a new principle within us. We cannot bring some- 
thing out of nothing. The Ethiopian cannot change his 
skin, nor the leopard his spots ; no more can we put life 
into our own souls.* Jer. 13 : 23. 

Another thing is equally clear, no man can do it for 
us. Ministers may preach to you, and pray with you, 
admit you to the Lord's table, and give you the bread 
and wine ; but they cannot bestow spiritual life. They 
may bring in regularity in the place of disorder, and out- 
ward decency in the place of open sin. But they cannot 
go below the surface. They cannot reach your hearts. 

* "There is not one good duty which the natural man can do. If 
it should be said to him, Think but one good thought, and for it thou 
Bhalt go to heaven, he could not tliink it. Till God raise him from 
the sink of sin, as he did Lazarus from the grave, he cannot do any- 
thing that is well-pleasing to God. He may do the works of a moral 
man, but to do the works of a man quickened and enlightened, it is 
beyond his power." Lisher's Sermons. 

" Nature can no more cast out nature, than Satan can cast out 
Sutan." Thomas Watson, 1653. 

*' Nature cannot raise itself to this, any more than a man can ^^ o 
natural being to himself." Archbishop L/?ighton. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 15 

Paul may plant and Apollos water, but God alone can 
give the increase. 1 Cor. 3 : 6. 

Who then can make a dead soul alive 1 No one can 
do it but God. He only who breathed into Adam's nos- 
trils the breath of life, can ever make a dead sinner a 
living Christian. He only who formed the world out o 
nothing in the day of creation, can make man a new 
creature. He only who said, "Let there be light, and 
there was light," can cause spiritual light to shine into 
man's heart. He only who formed man out of the dust 
and gave life to his body, can ever give life to his soul : 
his is the special office to do it by his Spirit, and his also 
is the power.* 

The glorious gospel contains provision for your spirit- 
ual, as well as your eternal life. The Lord Jesus is a 
complete Saviour. That mighty living Head has no dead 
members. His people are not only justified and pardoned, 
but quickened together with him, and made partakers of 
his resurrection. To Him the Spirit joins the sinner, 
and raises him by that union from death to life. In Him 
the sinner lives, after he has believed. The spring of 
all his vitality is the union between Christ and his soul, 
which the Spirit begins and keeps up. Christ is the 
appointed fountain of all spiritual life, and the Holy 
Ghost the appointed agent who conveys that life to our 
souls.t 

Come to the Lord Jesus Christ, if you would have 

♦ "To create or bring something out of nothing, is beyond the 
power of the strongest creature. It is above the strength of all men 
and angels to create the least blade of grass ; God challengeth this as 
his prerogative royal. Isaiah 40 : 26. Augustine said truly, To con- 
vert the little world man, is more than to create the great world." 
George Swinnocke, 1660. 

t "Then do we begin to live, when we begin to have union with 
Christ the Fountain of life, by his Spirit communicated to us : from 
this time we are to reckon our life." Flavel, 1670. 

**Cbrist is an universal principle of all life." Sibbs, 1635. 



16 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

life. He will not cast you out. He has gifts, even for 
the rebellious. The moment the dead man touched the 
body of Elisha, he revived and stood upon his feet 
2 Kings. 13:21. The moment you touch the Lord Jesus 
with the hand of faith, you are alive unto God, as well 
as forgiven all trespasses. Come, and your soul shall live. 

I never despair of any one becoming a decided Chris- 
tian, whatever he may have been in days gone by. I 
know something of the greatness of the change from 
death to life. I know the mountains of division that 
seem to stand between some of you and heaven. I know 
the hardness, the prejudices, the desperate sinfulness oi 
the natural heart. But I remember that God the Fathei 
made the glorious world out of nothing. I remember the 
voice of the Lord Jesus could reach Lazarus when lour 
days dead, and recall him even from the grave. I re- 
member the amazing victories the Spirit of God has won 
in every nation under heaven. I remember all this, and 
feel that I never need despair. Yes, those among you 
who now seem most utterly dead in sins, may yet be 
raised to a new being, and walk before God in newness 
of life. 

Why should it not be so ? The Holy Spirit is a mer- 
ciful and loving Spirit. He turns away from no man 
because of his vileness. He passes by no one, because 
his sins are black and scarlet. 

There was nothing in the Corinthians that He should 
come down and quicken them. Paul reports of them that 
they were "fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, effeminate, 
thieves, covetous, drunkards, revilers, extortioners." "And 
such," he says, "were some of you." Yet even them the 
Spirit made alive. "Ye are washed," he writes, "ye are 
sanctified, ye are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, 
and by the Spirit of our God." 1 Cor. 6 : 9-11. 

There was nothing in the Colossians, that He should 
visit their hearts Paul tells us that "they walked in 



LIVING, OR DEAD? ] Y 

fornication, imcleanness, inordinate afTcction, evil con- 
cupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry." Yet 
them also the Spirit quickened. He made them "put 
off the old man with his deeds, and put on the new man, 
which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him 
that created him." Col. 3 : 5-9, 10. 

There was nothing in Mary Magdalene that the Spirit 
should make her soul alive. Once she had been possessed 
with seven devils. Yet even her the Spirit made a neAv 
creature, separated her from her sins, brought her to 
Christ, made her last at the crosfi, and first at the tomb. 

Never, never will the Spirit turn away from a soul 
because of its corruption. He never has done so ; he 
never will. It is his glory that he has purified the 
minds of the most impure, and made them temples for 
his own abode. He may yet take the worst of you, and 
make you a vessel of grace. 

Why indeed should it not be so ? The Spirit is an 
almighty Spirit. He can change the stony heart into a 
heart of flesh. He can break the strongest bad habits, 
like tow before the fire. He can make the most difficult 
things seem easy, and the mightiest objections melt away 
like snow in spring. He can cut the bars of brass, and 
throw the gates of prejudice wide open. He can fill up 
every valley, and make every rough place smooth. He 
has done it often, and he can do it again.* 

The Spirit can take a Jew, the bitterest enemy of 
Cliristianity, the fiercest persecutor of true believers, the 
strongest stickler for pharisaical notions, the most preju- 
diced opposer of gospel doctrine, and turn that man into 
an earnest preacher of the very faith he once destroyed. 
He has done it already. He did it with the apostle 
Paul. 

* "Such is the power of the Holy Ghost to regenerate men, and 
as it were to bring thern forth anew, so that they shall be nothing like 
Jie men they were before." Homily for VVhit-sunday 



18' LIVING, OR DEAD? 

The Spirit can take a Roman-catholic monk, brought 
up in the midst of Romish superstition, trained from his 
infancy to believe false doctrine and obey the Pope, 
steeped to the eyes in error, and make that man the 
clearest upholder of justification by faith the world ever 
saw. He has done so already. He did it with Martin 
Luther. 

The Spirit can take an English tinker, without learn- 
ing, patronage, or money — a man at one time notorious 
for nothing so much as blasphemy and swearing — and 
make that man write a religious book, which shall stand 
unrivalled and unequalled in its way by any since the 
time of the apostles. He has done so already. He did 
it with John Bunyan, the author of " Pilgrim's Progress." 

The Spirit can take a sailor, drenched in worldliness 
and sin, a profligate captain of a slave ship, and make 
that man a most successful minister of the gospel, a 
writer of letters which are a storehouse of experimentai 
religion, and of hymns which are known and sung 
wherever English is spoken. He has done it already. 
He did it with John Newton. 

All this the Spirit has done, and much more, of which 
I cannot speak particularly. And the arm of the Spirit 
is not shortened. His power is not decayed. He is like 
the Lord Jesus, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. 
He is still doing wonders, and will do to the very end. 

Once more then, I say, I never despair of any man's 
soul being made alive. I should, if it depended on man 
himself, Some seem so hardened, I should have no hope. 
I should, if it depended on the work of ministers. Alas, 
the very best of us are poor weak creatures. But I can- 
not despair, when I remember that God the Spirit is the 
Bgent who conveys life to the soul ; for I know and am 
persuaded that with him nothing is impossible. 

I should not be surprised to hear, even in this life, 
that the hardest amnnir vou had become ?oftened, and the 



LIVING, Oil DEAD? 19 

proudest taken his place at the feet of Jesus as a weaned 
child. 

I shall not be surprised to meet many on the right 
hand in the day of judgment, whom I shall leave, when 1 
die, travelling in the broad way. I shall not start, and 
say, "What, you here ?" I shall only remind them, *' "VYas 
not this my word, when I was yet among you ? nothing 
is impossible with Him that quickeneth the dead." 

Brethren, does any one of you desire to help the 
church of Christ ? Then pray for a great outpouring of 
the Spirit. He alone can give edge to sermons, and point 
to advice, and power to rebukes, and cast down the high 
walls of sinful hearts. It is not better preaching, and 
finer writing that is wanted in this day, but more of tho 
presence of the Holy Ghost. 

Does any one of you feel the slightest drawing towards 
God, the smallest concern about his immortal soul ? 
Then flee to that open fountain of living waters the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and you shall receive the Holy Ghost. John 
7 : 39. Pray earnestly and heartily for the Holy Spirit. 
Think not you are shut up and cut off from hope. The 
Holy Ghost is promised to them that ask him. His very 
name is the Spirit of promise and the Spirit of life. Give 
him no rest till he comes down and makes you a new 
heart. Cry mightily unto the Lord : say unto him, "Bless 
<ne, even me ^Iso ; quicken me, and make me alive." 

And now let me close with a few words of special ap- 
plication. I have told you what 1 believe to be the truth 
as it is in Jesus. Let me try, by God's blessing, to bring 
it home to your hearts. 

1. First, let me put this question to every soul who 
reads this paper, ^^ Are you living, or are you drad?^' 

Suffer me, as an ambassador for Christ, lo press the 
inquiry on every conscience. There are only two ways 
to walk in, the narrow and the broad — two companies 
in the day of judo-ment, those on the right hand and tho««j 



ZO LIVING, OR DEAD? 

on the left — two classes of people in the professing church 
of Christ; and to one of them you must belong. Where 
are you ? What are you 1 Are you among the living, oi 
among the dead ? 

I speak to you yourselves who read this paper, and to 
none else: not to your neighbor, but to you — not to Afri- 
cans or New Zealanders, but to you. I do not ask whether 
you are angels, or whether you have the mind of David 
or Paul; but I do ask whether you have a well-founded 
hope that you are new creatures in Christ Jesus ; I do 
ask whether you have reason to believe you have put ofJ 
the old man and put on the new — whether you are con- 
scious of ever having gone through a real spiritual change 
of heart — whether, in one word, you are dead or alive.* 

Think not to put me off by saying, you "were admitted 
into the church, and received grace and the Spirit in the 
sacrament of baptism — you are alive." It shall not avail 
you. The Lord Jesus Christ himself says of the church 
in Sardis, "Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art 
dead." Rev. 3:1. The life you talk of is nothing if it 
cannot be seen. Show it to me, if I am to believe its 
existence. Grace is light, and light will be discerned, 
Grace is salt, and salt will be tasted. An indwelling of 
the Spirit that does not show itself by outward fruits, and 
a grace that men's eyes cannot discover, are both to be 
viewed with the utmost suspicion. Believe me, if you 

* "All hangs upon this hin^e. If this be not done, ye are un- 
done — undone eternally. All your profession, civility, privileges, gifts, 
<luties, are cyphers, and signify nothing, unless regeneration be the 
figure put before them." Swinnocke, 1660. 

"Believe me, whatsoever thou art, thou shalt never be saved for 
beinp a lord or a knight, a gentleman or a rich man, a learned man 
cr a well-spoken eloquent man; nor yet for being a Calvinist, era 
Jiutneran, an Arminian, a Baptist, a Presbyterian, an Ladependent, 
(If a Protestant, formally and merely as such; much less for being a 
I'apist, or of any such grossly deluded sect; but as a regenerate 
Christian it is that thou must be saved, or thou canst have no hope.'' 
Hichard Baxter, 1659. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 21 

have no other proof of spiritual life but your baptism, you 
are yet a dead soul. 

Think not to tell me "it is a question that 3annot be 
decided, and you call it presumptuous to give an opinion 
in such a matter." This is a vain refuge and a false hu- 
mility. Spiritual life is no such dim and doubtful thing 
as you seem to fancy. There are marks and evidence.g 
by which its presence may be discerned by those who 
know the Bible. " We know," says John, " that we have 
passed from death unto life." 1 John, 3:14. The exact 
time and season of J;hat passage may often be hidden 
from a man. The fact and reality of it will seldom be 
entirely an uncertain thing. It was a true and beautiful 
saying of a Scotch girl to Whitefield, when asked if her 
heart was changed, " Something was changed, she knew ; 
it might be the world, it might be her own heart ; but 
there was a great change somewhere, she was quite sure, 
for every thing seemed different from what it once did." 
Oh cease to evade the inquiry. Anoint your eyes with 
eye-salve, that you may see. Are you dead, or alive? 

Think not to reply, "you do not know; you allow it 
is a matter of importance ; you hope to know some time 
before you die ; you mean to give your mind to it when 
you have a convenient season ; but at present you do not 
know." 

You do not know I Yet heaven or hell is wrapped up 
in this question. An eternity of happiness or misery 
hinges upon your answer. You do not leave your worldly 
afl^airs so unsettled. You do not manage your earthly 
business so loosely. You look far forward You provide 
against every possible contingency. You insure life and 
'Toperty. Oh why not deal in the same way with youi 
immortal soul ? 

You do not know ! Yet all around you is uncertainty 
You are a poor frail worm — your body fearfully and won- 
derfully made — your health liable to be put out of ordei 
VOL. xri, 18 



22 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

Ill a thousand ways. The next time the daisies bloom, it 
may be over your grave. All before you is dark. You 
know not what a day might bring forth, much less a year 
Oh why not bring your soul's business to a point without 
delay ? 

Begin the great business of self-examination. Rest 
not till you know the length and breadth of your own 
state in God's sight. Backwardness in this matter is an 
evil sign. It springs from an uneasy conscience. It 
shows that a man thinks ill of his own case. He feels, 
like a dishonest tradesman, that his accounts will not bear 
inquiry. He dreads the light. 

Make sure work. Take nothing for granted. Do not 
measure your condition by that of others. Bring every 
♦^hing to the measure of God's word. A mistake about 
your soul is a mistake for eternity. " Surely," says Leigh- 
ton, "they that are not born again, shall one day wish 
they had never been born." 

Sit down this day and think. Commune with your 
own heart, and be still. Go to your own room, and con- 
sider. Enter into your own closet, or at any rate con- 
trive to be alone with God. Look the question fairly, 
fully, honestly in the face. How does it touch you ? Are 
you among the living, or among the dead ?* 

2. Let me speak in all affection to those ivho are dead* 

What shall I say to you ? What can I say ? What 
words of mine are likely to have any effect on your 
hearts 1 

This I will say, I mourn over your souls. I do most 
unfeignedly mourn. *You may be thoughtless and uncon- 
cerned. You may care little for what I am saying. You 
may scarcely run your eye over this paper, and after 

* "If your state be good, searching into it will give you the com- 
fort of it. If your state be bad, searching into it cannot make it 
worse ; nay, it is the only way to make it better, for conversion begina 
with conviction/' Bishop Hopkins, 1680. 



LIVING, OR DEAD? 23 

leading it, despise it and return to the world ; but you 
cannot prevent my feeling for yon, however little you 
may feel for yourselves. 

Do I mourn when I see a young man sapping the 
foundation of his bodily health by indulging his lusts and 
passions, sowing bitterness for himself in his old age ? 
Much more then will I mourn over your souls. 

Do I mourn when I see men squandering away their 
inheritance, and wasting their property on trifles and fol- 
lies ? Much more then will I mourn over your souls. 

Do I mourn when I hear of one drinking slow poisons 
because they are pleasant, as the Chinese take opium — 
putting forward the clock of his life, as if it did not go 
fast enough ; inch by inch digging his own grave ? Much 
more then will I mourn over your souls. 

I mourn to think of golden opportunities thrown away , 
of Christ rejected; of the blood of atonement trampled 
under foot; of the Spirit resisted, the Bible neglected, 
heaven despised, and the world put in the place of God. 

I mourn to think of the present happiness you are 
missing, the peace and consolation you are thrusting from 
you, the misery you are laying up in store for yourselves, 
and the bitter waking which is yet to come. 

Yes, I must mourn ; I cannot help it. Others may 
think it enough to mourn over dead bodies. For my part, 
I think there is far more cause to mourn over dead souls. 
The children of this world find fault with us for being so 
grave. Truly, when I look at the world, I marvel we 
can ever smile at all. 

Beloved friends, why will you die ? Are the wages of 
Bin so sweet and good that you cannot give them up ? la 
the world so satisfying that you cannot forsake it ? Is the 
service of Satan so pleasant that you and he are never to 
be parted ? Is heaven so poor a thing that it is not worth 
seeking ? Is your soul of so little consequence that it ii 
not worth a struggle to be saved ? Oh, turn ye, turn ye 



24 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

before it be too late. God is not willing that you should 
perish. "As I Jive," he says, "I have no pleasure in the 
death of him that dieth." Jesus loves you, and grieves to 
Bee your folly. He wept over wicked Jerusalem, saying, 
"How often would I have gathered thee, but thou wouldst 
not." Surely, if lost, your blood will be upon your own 
heads. "Awake, and arise from the dead, and Christ 
shall give you light." 

Believe me, believe me, true repentance is that one 
step that no man ever repented. Thousands have said 
at their latter end, they "had served God too little :" no 
child of Adam ever said, as he left this world, that he had 
cared for his soul too much. The way of life is a narrow 
path, but the footsteps in it are all in one direction ; not 
one has ever come back and said it was a delusion. The 
way of the world is a broad way, but millions on millions 
have forsaken it, and borne their testimony that it was a 
way of sorrow. 

that this year might be a year of life to your souls ; 
that the Spirit might come down upon your hearts 
and make you new men. I ask it of the Lord, as the 
prophet did of old: " Come from the four winds, breath, 
and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." Ezek. 
37:9. 

3. Let me speak to those among you ivloo are livmg. 

Are you indeed alive unto God? Can you say with 
truth, I was dead, and am alive again ; I was blind, but 
now I see ? Then suffer the word of exhortation, and in- 
cline your hearts unto wisdom.. 

Are you alive ? Then see that you prove it by your 
actions. Be a consistent witness. Let your words and 
works and ways and temper all tell the same story. 
Let not your life be a poor torpid life, like that of a tor- 
toise or a sloth ; let it rather be an energetic stirring 
life, like that of a deer or bird. Let your grace shine 
forth from all the windows of your conversation, that 



LIVING, OR DEAJ? 25 

those who live near you may see that the Spirit is abid- 
ing in your hearts. Let your light not be a dim, flicker- 
ing, uncertain flame ; let it burn steadily like the eternal 
fire on the altar, and never become low. Let the savor 
of yo'.ir religion, like Mary's precious ointment, fill all the 
house where you dwell. Be an epistle of Christ so 
clearly written, penned in such large bold characters, that 
he who runs may read it. Let your Christianity be so 
unmistakable, your eye so single, your heart so whole, 
your walk so straightforward, that all who see you may 
have no doubt whose you are, and whom you serve. 0, 
dear brethren, if we are quickened by the Spirit, no one 
ought to be able to doubt it. Our conversation should 
declare plainly that we seek a country. It ought not to 
be necessary to tell people, as in the case of a badly 
painted picture, " This is a Christian." We ought not to 
be so sluggish and still that men shall be obliged to come 
close and look hard, and say, " Is he dead, or alive ?" 

Are you alive ? Then see that you prove it hy your 
growth. Let the great change within become every year 
more evident. Let your light be an increasing light — 
not like Joshua's sun in the valley of Aijalon, standing 
still, nor like Hezckiah's sun, going back, but ever 
shining more and more to the very end of your days. Let 
the image of your Lord wherein you are renewed grow 
clearer and sharper every month. Let it not be like the 
image and superscription on a coin, more indistinct and 
defaced the longer it is used. Let it rather become more 
plain the older it is, and the likeness of your King stand 
out more fully. I have no confidence in a standing-stiri 
religion. I do not think a Christian was meant to be 
like an animal, to grow to a certain age and then stop 
growing. 1 believe, rather, he was meant to be like a 
tree, and to increase more and more in strength and 
vigor all his days. Hemembcr the words of the apostle 
Peter, "Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, 



26 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

aiK' to knowledge temperance, and to temperance brother- 
ly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity." 2 Pet. 
1:5, 6, 7. This is the way to be a useful Christian. 
Men will believe you are in earnest when they see con- 
stant improvement, and perhaps be drawn to go with 
you.* This is one way to obtain comfortable assurance. 
" So an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly." 
2 Pet. 1:11. Oh as ever you would be useful and happy 
in your religion, let your motto be, "Forward, forward," 
to your very last day. 

Brethren believers, I speak to myself as well as to 
you. I say the spiritual life in Christians ought to be 
more evident. Our lamps want trimming; they ought 
not to burn so dim. Our separation from the world should 
be more distinct, our walk with God more decided. Too 
many of us are like Lot, lingerers ; or like Reuben, Gad, 
and Manasseh, borderers ; or like the Jews in Ezra's 
time, so mixed up with strangers, that our spiritual pedi- 
gree cannot be made out. It ought not so to be. Let us 
be up and doing. If we live in the Spirit, let us also 
walk in the Spirit. If we really have life, let us make it 
known. 

The state of the world demands it. The latter days 
have fallen upon us. The kingdoms of the earth are 
shaking, falling, crashing, and crumbling away. Isaiah 
24:1, etc. The glorious kingdom that will never be 
removed is drawing nigh. The King himself is close at 
hand. The children of this v/crld are looking round to 
see what the saints are doing. God, in his wonderful 
providences, is calling to us, "Who is on my side? 
Who ?" Surely we ought to be, like Abraham, very ready 
with our answer, " Here am I." 

" Ah," you may say, " these are ancient things, these 
are brave words. We know it all. But we are weak, 

♦ "Men who are prejudiced, observe actions a great deal more than 
words " Leighton. 



LIVING, on UEAD? 27 

we have no power to think a good thought; we can do 
nothing, we must sit still." Hearken, my brethren. What 
is the cause of your weakness? Is it not because the foun- 
tain of life is little used ? Is it not because you are resting 
on old experiences, and not daily gathering new manna, 
daily drawing new strength from Christ ? He has left 
you the promise of the Comforter. He giveth more grace,* 
grace upon grace to all who ask it. He came that you 
might have life, and have it more abundantly. "Open 
thy mouth wide," he says this day, " and I will fill it." 

Brethren believers, if you want your spiritual life to 
be more healthy and vigorous, you must come more 
boldly to the throne of grace. You must give up this 
hanging-back spirit, this hesitation about taking the 
Lord at his own word. Doubtless you are " poor sinners, 
and nothing at all." The Lord knows it, and has pro- 
vided a store of strength for you. But you do not draw 
upon the store he has provided ; you have not, because 
you ask not. The secret of your weakness is your little 
faith, and little prayer. The fountain is unsealed, but 
you only sip a few drops. The bread of life is before 
you, yet you only eat a few crumbs. The treasury of 
heaven is open, but you only take a few pence. ye of 
little faith, wherefore do ye doubt ? 

Awake to know your privileges ; awake, and sleep 
no longer. Tell me not of spiritual hunger and thirst 
and poverty, so long as the throne of grace is before you. 
Say rather, that you are proud, and will not come to it as 
poor sinners. Say rather, you are slothful, and will not 
take pains to get more. 

Cast aside the grave-clothes of pride that still hang 
around you. Throw off that Egyptian garment of indo- 
lence, which ought not to have been brought through the 
Red sea. Away with that unbelief which ties and para- 
lyzes your tongue. You are not straitened in God, but in 
yourselves. Come boldly to the throne of grace, where 



28 LIVING, OR DEAD? 

tha Father is ever waiting to give, and Jesus ever stands 
by him to intercede. Come boldly, for you may, all sin- 
ful as you are, if you come in the name of the great High- 
priest. Come boldly, and ask largely, and you shall have 
abundant answers — mercy like a river, and grace and 
strength like a mighty stream. Come boldly, and you 
%hall have supplies exceeding all you can ask or think. 
Hitherto you have asked nothing. Ask and receive, that 
your joy may be full. 

Brethren, I commend you to God, and to the Lord 
Jesus Christ. While you live, may you live unto the 
Lord. When you die, may you die the death of the 
righteous. And when the Lord Jesus comes, may you 
De found ready, and "not be ashamed before him at his 
coming." 

I remain your affectionate friend, 

J. C. BYLE 

Hklmingham, Stoneham, Suffolk, December, 1848. 



No. 571, 

OLD MOSES. 



Mr. B was a mercliant in Baltimore, and did a very 

heavy business, especially in grain. One morning, as lie 
was passing over the vessels at the wharf, he stepped 
upon the deck of one, at the stern of which he saw a; 
negro man sitting, w^hose dejected countenance gave sure 
indication of distress ; and he accosted him with : 

" Hey, my man, what is the matter with you this morn- 
ing?" The negro lifted his eyes, and looking at Mr. 

B •, replied, "Ah, massa, I'se in great trouble." 

*' What about ?" " Kase I 'se fotched up here to be sold." 
"What for ? What have you been doing ? Have you been 
stealing? or did you run away? or what?" "No, no, 
massa, none o' dat ; it 's becase I did n't mind the audes." 
" What kind of orders?" " Well, massa, I tell you. Mass 
AVillum werry strick man, and werry nice man too, and 
ebr3^body on de place got to mine him ; and I break trew 
de rule ; but I did n't tend to break de rule ; I forgot me- 
sef, an I got too high." "It is forgetting drunk, then, is 
it ?" " no, sah, not dat nother." " I can get no satisfac- 
tion from you. Tell me what you are to be sold for." " For 
prayin, sah." "For praying ! that is a strange tale indeed. 
Will your master not permit you to pray ?" " O yes, sah, 
he let me pray easy; but I hollers too loud." "And why 
did you halloo so in your prayer ?" " Kase de Sperit comes 
on me, and I gets happy fore I knows it; den I gone; can't 
trol mesef den; den I knows nuthin bout massa's rule; 
den I holler if ole Sattin hissef come, wid all de rules of de 
'quisition." "And do you suppose your master will really 
sell you for that ?" " O yes, no help for me now; all de men 
in de world couldn't help me now; kase wen Mass AVil- 
lum say one ting, he no do anoder." 

" What is your name ?" " Moses, sah." " W^hat is your 

master's name ?" " Massa name Colonel Willum C ." 

"Where does he live?" "DownontheEasin Shoah." "Is 
Jie a good master? does he treat you well?" "O yes; 
Massa Willum good; no better massa in de world." 
"Where is he ?" " Yander he is, jis coming to de warf." 

18* 



2 OLD MOSES. 

As Mr. B started for the shore, he heard Moses give 

a heavy sigh, followed by a deep groan. Moses was not 
at all pleased with the present phase of affairs. He was 

strongly impressed with the idea that B was a trader 

and intended to buy him. Mr. B introduced himself 

to Colonel C , and said, "I understand you wish to 

sell that negro man yonder on board the schooner." 

Colonel C replied that he did. "What do you ask 

for him?" "I expect to get seven hundred dollars." 
" How old is he ?" " About thirty." " Is he a good 
hand ?" " Yes, sir, he is the best hand on my place. He 
is steady, honest, and industrious. He has been my fore- 
man for the last ten years, and a more trusty negro I 
never knew." " Why do you wish to sell him ?" 

" Because he disobeyed my orders. I built his quar- 
ter within a hundred yards of my own house ; and I have 
never rung the bell, night or morning, that his horn did 
not answer in five minutes. But two years ago he got 
religion, and commenced what he termed family prayer; 
that is, prayer in his quarter every night and morning: 
and when he began his prayer, it was impossible to tell 
when he would stop, especially if, as he termed it, he got 
happy. Then he would sing and pray and halloo for an 
hour or two together, so that you might hear him a mile 
off. And he would pray for me and my wife and chil- 
dren, and all my brothers and sisters and their children; 
and sometimes when we would have visitors, Moses' pray- 
ers would interrupt the conversation, and destroy the en- 
joyment of the whole company. Even after I had retired 
I could not sleep. I bore it as long as I could, and then 
forbade his praying so loud any more. Moses promised 
obedience, but he soon transgressed; and my rule is never 
to whip, but when a negro proves incorrigible, I sell him. 
I pardoned Moses twice for disobedience in praying so 
loud, but the third time I knew I must sell him, or every 
negro on the farm would disregard my orders." 

"You spoke of Moses' quarter; I suppose from that 
he has a family." " Yes, he has a woman and three chil- 
dren — or wife, I suppose he calls her now, for soon after 
he got religion, he asked me if they might be married; 
and I presume they were." " What will you take for hel 
and the children?" "If you want them for your own 



OLD MOSES. 3 

use, I will take seven hundred dollars ; but I shall not 
sell Moses nor them to go out of the state." " I wish 
them all for my own use, and will give j^ou the fourteen 
hundred dollars." 

Mr. B and Colonel C then went to B 's store, 

drew up the writings, and closed the sale, after which 

they returned to the vessel; and Mr. B , apj^roaching 

the negro, who sat with his eyes fixed upon the deck, 
seemingly with the most awful forebodings, said, " AYell, 
Moses, I have bought you." Moses made a very low bow, 
and every muscle of his face worked with emotion as he 
replied, " Is you, massa ? Where is I gwine, massa ? Is 

I gwine to Georgy ?" " No," said Mr. B , " I am a 

merchant here in the city; yonder is my store. I want 
you to attend on the store ; and have purchased your wife 
and children too, that you may not be separated." "Bress 
God for dat. And, massa, kin I go to meetin sometimes?" 
*' Yes, Moses, you can go to church three times on the 
Sabbath, and every night in the week; and you can pray 
as often as you choose, and as loud as you choose, and as 
long as you choose, and get as happy as you choose; and 
every time you pray, I want you to pray for me, my wife, 
and all my children : if you are a good man, your prayers 
will do us no harm, and we need them very much; and if 
you wdsh to, you may pray for everybody of the name of 
B in the state of Maryland. It AviU not injure them." 

While Mr. B was dealing out these privileges to 

Moses, the negro's eyes danced in their sockets, and his 
full heart laughed outright for gladness, exposing two 
rows of as even, clean ivories as any African can boast ; 
and his heart's response was, " Bress God, bress God all de 
time, and bress you too, massa ! Moses neber tinks bout 
he gwine to have all dese commondationers; dis make me 
tink bout Joseph in de Egypt." And after Moses had 

l^oured a few blessings on Colonel C , and bidding him 

a warm adieu, and requesting him to give his love and fare- 
well to his mistress, the children, and all the servants, he 

followed B • to the store, to enter upon the duties of 

his new office. The return of the schooner brought to 
Moses his wife and children. 

Early the next spring, as Mr. B was one day stand- 
ing at the store door, he saw a man leap upon the wharf 



4 OLD MOSES. 

from tlie deck of a vessel, and walk hurriedly towards the 

store. He soon recognized him as Colonel C . They 

exchanged salutations, and to the colonel's inquiry after 

Moses, Mr. B replied that he was up stairs measuring 

grain, and invited him to walk up and see him. Soon 
Mr. B — 's attention was r.rrested by a very conf ased noise 
above. He listened, and heard an unusual shuffling of 
feet, some one sobbing violently, and some one talking 
very hurriedly; and he ddermined to go up and see what 
was going on. When he reached the head of the stairs, 
he was startled by seeing Moses in the middle of the 
floor, down upon one knee, with his arms around the 
colonel's waist, and talking rapidly, while the colonel 
stood weeping. So soon as the colonel could sufficiently 

control his feelings, he told Mr. B that he had never 

been able to free himself from the influence of Moses' 
prayers, and that during the past year he and his wife 
and all his children had been converted to God. 

Moses responded, "Bress God, massa C ; dough I 

way up hea, I neber forgit you in my prayers ; I oilers 
puts de ole massa side de new one. Bress God ! dis make 
Moses tink about Joseph in de Egypt agin." 

The colonel then stated to Mr. B that his object 

in coming to Baltimore was to buy Moses and his family 

back again. But Mr. B assured him that that was out 

of the question, for he could not part with him; and he 
intended to manumit Moses and his wife at forty, and 
his children at thirty-five years of age. 

Moses was not far wrong in his reference to Joseph. 
For when Joseph was sold into Egypt, God overruled it 
to his good, and he obtained blessings that were far be- 
yond his expectations; so with Moses. Joseph eventually 
proved the instrument of saving the lives of those who 
sold him; Moses proved the instrument in God's hands 
of saving the man's soul who sold him. 

Old Moses is still living, and doing well. He long- 
since obtained his freedom, and at present occupies a 
comfortable house of his own ; and I suppose sings and 
prays and shouts to his heart's content. 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

160 NASSAU-£!TREET, NEW YORK. 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 



BY REV. JOHN WILLISON, 

DUNDEE, SCOTL.^.XD. 



None have right to Christ but those who first come 
to him in the way of faith. The multitude and heinous- 
ness of your sins, for which you ought to be humbled and 
mourn, may serve to show your great need of Christ to 
deliver you from them. Think not that your repentance, 
confessions, or tears for sin can satisfy the justice of God, 
or merit acceptance or pardon. This were to put these 
things in Christ's room, that are only means to lead you to 
him ; and to take up Avith a righteousness of your own, 
instead of His that can atone the justice of God for sin- 
ners. then, see that ye look beyond all to Christ alone 
for atonement, righteousness, pardon, and salvation, and 
count all things but loss, that you may win him. 

Now, since the gospel offers Christ to all that hear it, 
and the call and command to receive and embrace Christ 
as a Saviour, is given to all and every one, even to the 
vilest of sinners; you have a full warrant to lay hold on 
him for pardon, and flee to him for mercy, and you hei- 
nously sin against God and your own soul, if you neglect 
to do it. " HoAV shall we escape, if we neglect so great 
salvation," and slight so great a Saviour? 

I shall therefore present some motives to press poor 
perishing sinners to flee from sin and wrath to Jesus 
Christ the only Saviour, and to receive and rest upon him 
for life and salvation. 

1. Take a view cf the misery of a natural and Christ- 
less condition; and 0, that God would open thine eyes to 
let thee see it, and convince thee that while thon art m 
this stale, \\\o\\ art a rebel to thy God, a prodigal to thy 



2 LOOKINO TO JESUS. 

father, a slave to thy lusts, and an alien to the common- 
wealth of Israel. If thou comest not to Christ with thy 
burdens, the whole burden of unpardoned sin lies upon 
thee, and this is a burden that will sink thee lower than 
the grave ; nay, it will press thee to the lowest hell, and 
keep thee eternally sinking there. Consider also how 
vile thou and all thy actions, whether natural, civil, or 
religious, are in the sight of a holy God, while thou art 
out of Christ : thy soul is naked and defiled with sin, and 
thou hast neither a garment to cover thee, nor a fountain 
to wash thee ; the leprosy of sin spreads over all, so that 
from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot there 
is nothing but bruises and putrefying sores ; there is no 
mire so unclean as thou art in thy Christless state, in the 
eyes of a holy God who cannot look upon iniquity but 
with abhorrence. Again, consider thou art a slave to 
Satan, the worst of tyrants ; he rules and Avorks in your 
heart as a workman doth in his shop. Eph. 2:2, He 
uses your powers, faculties, senses, and members accord- 
ing to his pleasure. He says. Go, and you go; do this, 
and you do it. Your bondage is worse than the Israelites, 
under Pharoah, for they groaned under theirs, but you, 
alas, are not sensible of yours, neither will you believe it : 
the devil knows that if you perceived your slavery, you 
would seek to make your escape from him ; therefore, to 
make sure work, he deals with you as the Philistines did 
with Samson — puts out your eyes, that you may not see 
your chains, nor look to Christ for liberty. that God 
would open them, and cause you to groan under your fet- 
ters and look to Christ for relief. 

Moreover, while thou art in thy Christless state, God's 
wratt is still burning against thee, the flaming sword of 
justice is always over thy neck. " God is angry with the 
wicked every day," every day of the week, and every 
hour of the day ; when thou goest out and comest in, 
risest up or liest down, God is still angry with thee ; yea, 
' He hath bent his bow and made ready h"s arrows," thev 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 3 

will pierce thee to the very soul, and who will heal that 
wound ? What a dangerous state is this. 

And further, all the curses of the law are against thee, 
and a just God is engaged by his oath to punish thee if 
thou abidest in this state : " To whom sware he, that they 
should not enter into his rest, but to them that believed 
not ?" Should not the thoughts of this make thee trem- 
ble ? Were it but the oath of a man or a company of 
men to procure thy death, as of those forty men that 
bound themselves with an oath they would neithe-r eat 
nor drink till they had killed Paul, it would bereave thee 
of thy night's rest and quiet till they were made friends 
with thee. And will the oath of the great God have no 
effect upon thee, nor move thee to flee to Christ for pro- 
tection and reconciliation ? Who can help thee if Christ 
be neglected ? With what face canst thou look to him, 
or cry for mercy from him, when he comes to judge thee 
at the last day ? If thou remain Christless now, thou 
wilt be speechless, helpless, and hopeless then. think 
what pale faces, quivering lips, fainting hearts, and trem- 
bling consciences wdll be among Christless sinners then. 
How will their heads hang down, and knees smite to- 
gether, and how will they cry, Alas for the day ! They 
can look nowhere for comfort ; for the Judge frowns on 
them, their own friends upbraid them, devils scoff at 
them, the heavens thunder against them, the earth flames 
about them, and hell groans for them, and down they go 
for ever. 

Christless soul, how canst thou think to lie in that 
dark dungeon for ever, where there is weeping and 
gnashing of teeth, and utter darkness, but never the least 
sight of the light of God's favor to all eternity? How 
wilt thou live in that pit where there is no water; not 
a drop of comfort or refreshment to the thirsty prisoners, 
no, not so much as one drop to cool their tongue. poor 
Christless soul, thou art as it were apprehended by jus- 
tice for thy debt, and brought to this prison door, and 



4 LOOKING- TO JESUS. 

there are hundreds of diseases and devils waiting for a 
warrant to open the door to let thee in ; and wilt thou not 
employ a surety, nor seefv for a ransom when justice is 
waiting a while to see if thou wilt do it ; and Christ is 
earnestly offering himself to be thy Saviour, and his blood 
to ransom thee from this pit, and no other thing will do 
it? See Zech. 9: 11. 

2. As it is God's command that you should receive 
and beheve on his Son Jesus Christ, so he declares that 
it is a work, above all others most pleasing to him, John 
6 : 29 ; it is emphatically called his conimandment, 1 John, 
3 : 23, being a command he values more than all other 
commands in the Bible. And so upon the other hand, 
there is no sin so provoking to God as unbelief and reject- 
ing of Christ ; yea, he is more offended with it than 
with the breaking of all his other commands. See Heb. 
10 : 28, 29. Put all your other sins in one scale, and un- 
belief in another, and you will find that unbelief weighs 
down all the rest, for it is a slighting of the whole work 
of redemption, which is the masterpiece of all God's 
works, being that which his heart is most set upon. 
1 John, 4:9. be persuaded then to do the work that 
is most acceptable to God, and obey his, great command 
to believe upon the name of his Son. The whole creation 
obeys his commands : he commands the sun to run its 
daily course, and it obeys him ; he commands the sea to 
ebb and flow, and it obeys ; he commands the angels and 
all the hosts of heaven, and they obey him ; and will you 
only be disobedient to him, and that to his beloved com- 
mand, when he hath done more for you than for the whole 
creation ? 

3. Consider what an unspeakable mercy and happi- 
ness it is to you, to enjoy the free offers of Jesus Christ, 
and to have God commanding you to receive him. How 
would the fallen angels value such a mercy. They 
would not be loath to leave their dungeon and accept of 
a Saviour, as you are ; but their state is eternally hopeless 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 5 

and desperate, there is no remedy for their misery. do 
not put yourselves in the same case with them by slight- 
ing the offered remedy. How would lost souls prize such 
an offer. The least news and remotest hope of it would 
make them leap in their chains, and sing in the flames. 
hoAv glad would they be to lift up their hands to take 
hold of the cords of love and mercy^ if they could be let 
down to them in that dark dungeon. "Why then should 
you wilfully put yourselves into the same hopeless con- 
dition with them by your unbelief? Nay, your neglecting 
so many offers will sink you far deeper in that lake of fire 
and brimstone, and increase your flames to more vehe- 
mency than those of others who have not been so privi- 
I'^ged. how will devils, Jews, and Pagans upbraid you 
»-here for your inexcusable folly in slighting your mercy, 
and destroying your souls. Be wise then in time, prize 
your privilege, and consider the things that belong to your 
peace, before they be hid from your eyes. 

4. Consider what an excellent and suitable help Christ 
is for fallen sinners: he is well-furnished and qualified 
for your case ; he hath gold for your poverty, eye-salve for 
your blindness, balm for your wounds, bread for your 
hunger, white raiment for your nakedness, a fountain for 
your pollution, and a ransom for your debt and bondage. 
In a word, he hath a deep fountain for your deep guilt; 
he is the chief of Saviours for the chief of sinners. Be- 
hold how one deep calls to another, the depth of thy mis- 
ery for the depths of his mercy. Are your sins and mis- 
eries very extensive ? then view the large dimensions of 
his mercy. Who can fathom the height, the depth, the 
breadth, or length of it ? It is high as heaven, and sur- 
mounts the highest mountains of guilt ; it is so deep that 
it can bury the greatest of your sins ; it is as broad as the 
east is from the west, and it is from everlasting to ever- 
lasting, so that it fully answers all your wants and mis- 
eries. In Christ there is all you need or can desire. 
sinner, here is blood to justify thee, and water to cleanse; 



6 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

here the water of life, believer, that will restore thy 
soul again, renew thy youth as the eagles, cure all thy 
diseases, and heal all thy pains. In a word, you have in 
Christ all that can make you good, all that can make you 
great, and all that can make you happy. 

5. Consider how near you are to Christ and mercy: 
the remedy is prepared and salvation is brought to your 
very door ; so that you need not say, Who will ascend to 
heaven to bring me down the water of life? for it is 
brought to earth to thy hand. You need not say, Who 
will roll me away the stone from the well's mouth? for 
Christ hath done it for thee, and it is now a fountain 
opened and running by your door. it would be sad to 
be so near Christ and yet eternally miss him, to perish 
like the thief on the cross with a Saviour at your side, to 
be within a step of him and yet never touch him, yea, to 
sink into hell between the outstretched arms of his mercy, 
and with his sweet calls sounding in your ears. What a 
heart-stinging consideration will this be to you in that 
place of torment for ever. then, stir up yourselves to 
take hold of Christ when he is so near, and in your offer. 
Strive earnestly while there is an ark prepared, and a 
window opened in the side of it, and the hand of mercy 
put forth to pull in shelterless doves that can find no rest 
elsewhere ; I say, strive to come near by the wings of 
faith, make your nest at least beside the hole's mouth ; 
be not found hovering without, lest the flood wash you 
ofT from the sides of the ark, and you perish miserably. 
If you be so foolish you will wish eternally that you had 
never heard of Christ, or that you had been born among 
heathen or Mahometans, that never heard a sermon. 

6. Consider how importunate Christ is in his ofTers, 
and how much he presseth you to receive him: "Wisdom 
crieth. in the streets." Prov. 1. Christ makes loud and 
open proclamation of himself, and oft repeats his calls 
" Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and 
he that hath no money ; come ye, buy and cat; yea, come." 



LOOKINa TO JESUS. 7 

Isa. 55 : 1 Behold how earnest he is with sinners, that 
he bids them come to him three times in one verse — 
Come, come, come. What alluring methods hath he 
taken to gain your hearts. How tenderly and afiection- 
ately doth he call and court backward souls. " Hearken 
unto me, my people ; give ear unto me, my nation." 
What melting expressions are these : My people, my 
nation. 

But if calls do not prevail, he comes himself to seek 
and save that which was lost. He came personally in 
the days of his flesh, and now he comes by his Spirit in 
his word and ordinances. The three wise men came 
from the East a long journe*y, to seek Christ ; but now 
Christ hath come from heaven to earth, a long journey, 
yea, come to every one of you to seek you ; and are you not 
willing to be found of him? 

Nay, he follows you when you run away from him, 
and pursues you with his gracious oiTers. As the rock 
followed the Israelites in the wilderness with its running 
streams of water, so Christ our spiritual rock follows you 
now with the streams of his mercy and blood, to wash and 
save you. sinner, if you will not hear the words of his 
mouth, hearken to the calls of his wounds, which arc 
opened as so many mouths to plead with you. He hath 
suffered his blessed side to be opened that ye might look 
into his bleeding heart, and see it panting with love. Will 
not this prevail? Then behold him by faith on the cross, 
weighed down with your sins and the curses of a broken 
law, following you and calling after you. Hear him 
knocking with his pierced hands at the door of your 
heart, saying, " Open to mc, poor perishing sinner ; give 
me a place in thy heart ; behold what I have suffered 
from heaven, earth, and hell for thee ; look what justice 
hath done ; look what the devil, the Romans, the Jews, 
and my own disciples have done. View my head, my 
side, my hands and my feet, my wounded body, and my 
bruised soul." canst thou find in thy heart to keep 



8 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

Christ at the door, when thus wounded, bleeding, and 
mangled for thee ? Wilt thou let him stand all the day 
long when he hath put on his dyed garments and red 
apparel to court thy backward heart, and when he is say- 
ing, " sinner, if thou wilt not believe, reach hither thy 
hand and feel the print of the nails, yea, thrust it into my 
pierced side and feel my warm bleeding heart, and see it 
I love you not ?" Wilt thou deny Him access, who hath 
done so much for thee ? 

Will not this prevail? Then behold him displaying 
his glorious beauty and excellency before thine eyes in a 
preached gospel to win thy heart. Will not ministers'" 
commendations of him move thee? Then hear how he 
commends himself: •'! am the Rose of Sharon, and the 
Lily of the valley ; I am the true Vine ; I am the good 
Shepherd," etc. And will you not believe his own report 
who cannot lie 1 Surely he is in good earnest with you 
when he takes this course. 

Will not this do ? Then hearken how passionately he 
mourns your folly in rejecting him. He sighs when he 
mentions it: "0 that my people had hearkened unto me!" 
He bitterly laments it : "0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how 
often would 1 have gathered thy children together, and 
ye would not I" He doubles the name to show his tendei 
affection, as David when he mourns for his son Absalom, 
" my son Absalom, my son, my son !" " How often 
would I have gathered you under my wings !" How many 
an affectionate sermon, call, and invitation have I given 
you, but all to no purpose. Shall 1 go through a sea 
of wrath and blood to save you, and will you not accept 
of me when I have done it? Shall I shed my blood in 
vain? Shall I bear the wrath of God, the scorn of men, 
the terror of death, and the curse of the law to no effect? 
Will you still prefer your sins before me, and hear Satan's 
knocks sooner than mine ? 

Hear that compassionate complaint, " Ye will not 
come to me, that ye might have life." As if he had 



LOOKINa TO JEStJS. 9 

Kaid, " Why run ye so fast from your Saviour ? Why 
come ye not to me, who am come from heaven to seek 
and save you? It is not an enemy, but a friend ye run 
from. Ye will go without much pressing to the devil to 
get death and eternal damnation, but ye will not come 
to me to get life and eternal salvation. 0, what inex- 
pressible madness are ye guilty of! 

Behold how he wept for self-destroying Jerusalem 
rejecting his offers, Luke 19 : 41. When he sat down to 
consider their case, his bowels yearned with pity, his 
tongue broke forth in lamentation, and his eyes gushed 
out with tears ; so that his weeping even interrupted his 
voice, and made him utter short and abrupt expressions: 
" If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy 
day," etc., where he seems to pause at every other word, 
and drop first a word and then a tear. What a moving 
sight was this, to see the Son of God in such a pang of 
grief and flood of tears for lost sinners! Had he been 
inquired of by his disciples, " Blessed Lord, what seek- 
est thou? why Meepest thou?" his answer readily would 
have been, " I seek not myself, I weep not for myself, foi 
I shall be glorious in the eyes of the Lord though sinners 
be not gathered ; but I weep to see sinners so mad as to 
reject their Saviour and salvation ; it is my grief to see 
them rather cast themselves headlong into the devil's 
arms, than throw themselves into my arms of mercy, or 
embrace me in the arms of their faitlu" 0, did Christ 
weep for you, poor sinners, and will ye not weep for 
yourselves ? Did his heart melt with pity for you, and 
will not yours melt with desire towards'him ? 

Can he do more to win your hearts than this ? Yea 
if this do not, he is pleased to expostulate the matter 
with you, and lay your danger before you : " Turn ye 
turn ye; for why will ye die?" Yea, he condescends to 
reason the matter with you in a familiar way: "Come, 
let us reason together." " my people, what have I done 
unto thee? What iniquity haAi3 ye found in me?" What 



10 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

want or unsuitableness have ye seen in me? "Have I 
been a barren wilderness to you ? Are not my ways 
equal?" Thus he seeks to draw you with the cords of a 
man, and with the bands of love. Hos. 11:4. 

And if there arise objections in your heart against 
coming to Christ and receiving him for your Saviour, see 
how carefully in his word he answers them all ; for he 
well foresaw every one of them : ^' Produce your cause," 
saith the Lord, " bring forth your strong reasons :" I am 
ready to hear and answer all your scruples. 

"0," says some poor humbled soul, "I have no right to 
come to Christ, for I am a great sinner." 0, saith Christ, 
" 1 came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent- 
ance." 

" But I am the chief of sinners ; my sins are red as crim- 
son." 0, saith Christ, I can make them white as wool. 
Nay, it was my errand into the world, to save such as 
thou art. 1 Tim. 1 : 15. 

" But I am sick and wounded ; what w^ill Christ have 
to do with me ?" 0, saith Christ, it is my proper employ- 
ment to be taken up with you ; for the whole need not a 
physician, but they that are sick. Matt. 9. Am not I the 
good Samaritan who am come to pour oil into thy sores» 
and tenderly bind up thy wounds ? Psalm 147 : 3. 

'' But I have no ground to hope, for I am a lost wretch." 
0, saith Christ, i came for this very errand, to seek and 
save that which was lost, Luke 19 : 10 ; many a lost sheep 
have I sought and found. 

" But I am past cure, for I am quite dead and in the 
grave of sin." 0, saith Christ, I am the resurrection and 
the life ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, 
yet shall he live. John 11 : 25. And again he saith. 
Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and 
Christ shall give thee light. Eph. 5 : 14. 

" But I am a slave to sin and Satan, and a prisoner to 
justice." 0, saith Christ, 1 am come to proclaim liberty to 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 11 

the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that 
are bound. Isa. 61:1. Yea, I have the key of David, 
that opens and none can shut ; I have the blood of the 
covenant that brings prisoners out of the pit. Turn ye 
to the strong-hold, ye prisoners of hope. Zech. 9:11, 12. 

" But I have heavy burdens that weigh me down.*' 
0, saith Christ, Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

" But my hand is withered ; I cannot receive Christ or 
any thing from him," Then do as the man who had the 
withered hand ; obey Christ's call, and he will enable thee 
to stretch out thy hand. 

" But I am lame, and cannot walk in Christ's way." 
0, saith Christ, I will put my Spirit .within you, and cause 
you to walk in my statutes. Ezek. 36. 

"But what if Christ withdraw his Spirit and grace 
from me." No, saith Christ, I will never leave tjiee, npr 
forsake thee. Heb. 13. 

" But I shall be overcome by strong temptations.*' No, 
saith Christ, my grace shall be sufficient for thee. 

Objection. But, saith some poor sinner, alas, my case 
is not yet touched, for it is singular ; my sins are heinou? 
and peculiar ; they are against light, love, conscience, 
vows, and a thousand obligations. There is none that 
knows what a sinner I have been, but God and my own con- 
science. Will Christ ever accept of such a wretch as 1 ? 

Answer. Art thou worse than a devilish Manasseh, or 
a persecuting Paul, whom Christ pitied and saved ? Art 
thou worse than Mary Magdalene ? yet seven devils could 
not keep Christ out of her heart. Nay, though thy heart 
were as foul and black as hell, and thy life did swarm 
with the most abominable sins, yet Christ is both able 
and willing to save thee, if thou come to him. Are you 
worse than those in that black catalogue, 1 Cor. 6 : 9, 10 ? 
Read and see what a sad roll is there ; and yet the apos- 
tle saith to the believing Corinthians, verse 2, " Such 
were some of you ; but ye are washed," etc. The blood 



12 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

of Christ is a powerful fountain, and is able to \\\iHh 
away the greatest sins that ever were committed. God 
gave full proof of this, in that the worst sin we read of 
was cleansed by his blood after it was shed, even the 
murder of the Son of God. Acts 2 : 36, 38. This was the 
most prodigious wickedness that ever the sun saw ; yea, 
the sun fainted at the sight, as afraid to look on it; for 
suppose a man were able to pull heaven and earth to 
pieces, destroy the angels, and murder all mankind, he 
would not contract so monstrous a guilt as those did in 
crucifying the Son of God, whose person was infinitely 
superior to the whole creation. Yet thousands that were 
actors in this black tragedy were washed by his blood, to 
give us a convincing proof of its infinite value and virtue, 
and that no sin or guilt whatsoever was too strong for it. 
" The blood of Christ," saith John, " cleanseth us from all 
ein." ; John, 1 : 7. 

Objection. But though Christ's blood be sufficient, yet 
I have no right to it. 

Answer. Be you what you may, you have a full and 
sufficient warrant from the gospel call to flee to it. See 
what Christ enjoins his apostles to do : " Go ye into all the 
world, and preach the gospel to every creature." Mark 
J6: 15. "Make ofi^er of my blood to all without distinc- 
tion, even to the worst of sinners, be they never so wick- 
ed ; yea, though they have sinned themselves into the 
likeness of beasts or devils, yet, ofier my blood, my mercy, 
and merits to them ; invite and press them to come unto 
me, and him that cometh I will in no wise cast out." 
sinner, accept of the gospel ofler, and whatever you have 
been, you shall find there is mercy enough in God to pity 
you, merit enough in Christ's blood to purchase a pardon 
for you, and prevalency enough m his intercession to pro- 
cure and apply it to you. 

Objection. But 1 have often slighted the gospel ofler, 
and trampled on this precious blood ; with what confi- 
dence can I claim it ? 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 13 

Answer. Since Christ doth not exclude you, you ought 
not to exclude yourself; but should reckon that you have 
the greater need to hasten to this blood, the more hei- 
nous your sins be ; yea, you have a peculiar ground to 
plead for pardon by it. See how David pleads it, Psalm 
25 : 2 : " Pardon my iniquity ;" why ? " for it is great." 
This would be a strange argument with men, pardon my 
Clime, for it is great ; but it is a strong argument with 
God : Lord, it is great, and so I have the more need of par- 
don ; it is great, and so thou wilt have the greater honor 
in pardoning me, even as a physician hath in curing a 
desperate disease. The sinning against Christ's blood, or 
slighting it, is indeed a very heinous sin ; but the more so it 
is, the more need you have to hasten to this blood as the 
only fountain that can wash away the guilt of trampling 
on it ; and this indeed can do it eiiectually. Nay, though 
you had actually shed this blood, as the Jews did, yet, if 
you be humbled for it, you are welcome to come to it for 
mercy. ^Observe that commission which Christ gave his 
apostles, Luke 24 : 46, 47, where he orders them to preach 
repentance and remission in his name to all nations ; and 
begin, saith he, at Jerusalem. 0, might they say, why at 
Jerusalem ? To be sure it is not our part to begin there, 
where they ftiocked, pierced, and crucified the Lord of 
glory. Nay, says he, begin there, for these miserable 
wretches have most need of my blood to wash them. If 
any thing could alienate Christ's heart from sinners, the 
consideration of their crucifying him, and using him so 
despitefuUy might have done it; yet, says he, go make 
offer of my blood and mercy to these my murderers ; and 
accordingly it was done by Peter, Acts 2, and many of 
them had this blood applied to them. 

Objection. But as my sins are grievous in their na- 
ture, so they are vast in their number; they are even 
like the sand by the seashore, both weighty and without 
number. 

Answer. Remember the merit of Christ's blood is in- 
voT. \rii. 19 



14 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

finite, but the number of thy sins is not so ; nay, though 
they were ten thousand times more than they are, they 
could not stop the current of this ever-flowing and over- 
flowing fountain; though thy sins he very numerous and 
extensive, yet the sea of Christ's blood can cover them all, 
and hide them from the sight of God, so that they shall 
never again appear or rise up against you in judgment. 

Objection. But my sins are not only grievous in their 
nature, and vast in their number, but they are of very 
long continuance. I am an old sinner, long have lain in 
the grave of sin ; surely Christ will never accept of me. 

Answer. Your sins may be old, yet they are not so 
old as Christ's mercies, which are from everlasting. It 
is not the first old disease that Christ hath cured : he 
raised Lazarus with a word, who had lain four days in 
the grave ; he stopped a bloody issue that had run twelve 
years, with the hem of his garment ; he loosed a poor 
woman that Satan had bound eighteen years ; he cured 
an impotent man that had had an infirmity thirty-eight 
years ; and can he not as easily cure all your old soul- 
diseases ? He received those that came in at the eleventh 
hour, yea, saved some at the last hour, particularly the 
thief on the cross, whom the devil thought he was sure of, 
having drawn him to the mouth of hell, just ready t'o cast 
him in ; yet even then, upon his looking to Christ, did the 
arms of mercy catch hold of him. 

"What more canst thou object, sinner? Hath not 
Christ provided answers to all thou canst say, either 
against thyself or him ? Hath he not given unanswerable 
demonstrations of his ability, fulness, fitness, and willing- 
ness to be thy Saviour ? Hath he not given full proof of 
his earnest desire to save thee, by the many methods he 
takes to prevail with sinners to accept of him ? "Will not 
all the pains he hath hitherto taken prevail with thy 
obstinate heart ? What more would you have Christ do 
for unwilling sinners ? There is yet one step further he 
makes, and that is a very low one ; he even, as it wor^', 



LOOKING TO JESUS. i5 

turns a humble supplicant to thee, and beseeches thee to 
be reconciled to him : read 2 Cor. 5 : 20, " We are am- 
bassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by 
us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to 
God." 0, wonderful condescension ; behold divine mer- 
cy importuning the sinner to receive his Saviour, accept 
of his pardon, save his soul, and be reconciled to God in 
Christ. Be astonished, heavens I Shall the sovereign 
Creator turn supplicant to the vile traitor, and follow him 
with his remission ? Or, the loving father to the prodigal 
child, and follow him with entreaties ? And, sinner, 
will thy stubborn heart be able to refuse peace, or slight 
the blessed peacemaker Jesus Christ, after all this pains ? 
If all his arguments prevail nothing, yet one would think 
that the humble entreaties of the great God will certainly 
do it ; how can you resist these ? 

Objection. I have no strength to come to Christ ; I can- 
not believe of myself ; I have a dead and hard heart, and 
1 cannot help it. 

Answer 1. Canst thou say in good earnest that thou 
art willing and desirous to embrace a Saviour, if thou 
wert able ? Alas, it is here that it sticks ; whatever you 
pretend, you are not truly willing : it is our unwilling- 
ness that ruins us ; it is not so much for want of power as 
want of will, that sinners want Christ; were yqu once 
willing, strength would not be wanting. to get the 
will conquered and made to surrender to Christ, then the 
day were won. for one gift more of omnipotent grace, 
to make you willing in the day of God's power. 

2. Labor for a deep sense of thy own impotency ; take 
your dead heart and lay it before God, and plead for pity. 
It is true, God is not bound to hear your prayer, but you 
may expect he will do it out of his great goodness and 
mercy He hears the ravens when they cry ; then, cry 
to him in a deep sense of want ; be as earnest seeking 
faith, as your daily bread ; cry as fervently for the life of 
your souls, as you would for the life of your bodies if about 



18 LOOKING TO JESUS. 

to shine forth ; so neither will it be to thee to show thy 
power and "mercy; a look or touch from thee will do it. 
A little thing will save a drowning man ; Lord, suffer me 
not to perish, when it is so easy for thee to prevent it. 
Lord, grant a hungry beggar alms out of the ocean of thy 
bounty. As the sun, the more it shines, displays its glory 
the more ; so thou wilt gain glory by putting forth thy 
power to help such a helpless creature as I am." 

Objection. I have often looked and cried to him for 
help ; but alas, I am such a grievous sinner he doth not 
answer me, unless it be with a frown. 

Answer 1. It may be there is some idol or sin still 
harbored, that thou art not willing to part with. This 
may be the Achan in ihe camp, that causeth the Lord to 
hide his face ; search for it, and cast out the accursed 
thing ; let not thine eye pity it, neither do thou spare it. 
If thou canfct not find it, go humbly to God, and cry, Show 
me, Lord, wherefore thou contendest with me. 

2. It may be thou art not in earnest. God keeps the 
door bolted, that you may be provoked to knock the hard- 
er : " Ask, and it shall be given ; seek, and ye shall find ; 
knock, and it shall be opened unto you." Mat. 7:7. In 
that one verse you have three calls to fervency : not only 
ask, but seek ; not only seek, but knock. The woman of 
Canaan readily took up the meaning of Christ's refusing to 
answer her ; she turns the more fervent and importunate, 
and so gets all her will. 

3. Resolve, whatever discouragement you meet with, 
you will never quit the throne of grace, but will always 
lay yourself in Christ's way, and never look to another for 
help ; yea, that you will die waiting on him. Remember 
the psalmist's experience : " I waited patiently for the 
Lord, and he inclined his ear, and heard my cry." Psalm 
40 : 1. Never any yet that waited on him, had cause 
to be ashamed. You may meet with many discourage- 
ments and temptations, and be put to very bad thoughts, 
"but you must be resolute in looking to Christ foi help. 



LOOKING TO JESUS. 19 

come what will. In imitation of the four lepers at the 
Biege of Samaria, reason with yourself, If I live at a dis- 
tance from Christ, I shall infallibly perish, there is no 
hope for me : if Christ pity me not when I am waiting on 
him, I shall but perish ; yet there is hope he will have 
pity ; therefore if I perish, I '11 perish at Christ's footstool, 
looking to him, where never one yet perished, and he will 
not let me be the first. 

4. Make use of arguments in pleading with him. 

1. Plead the freeness of his mercy ; it needs no motive 
and expects no worth, but, " Whosoever will, let him 
take the water of life freely." It runs freely, so that 
mountains cannot stop the current of it. Indeed, Lord, 
*' if sin and un worthiness could stop mercy, I might despair, 
for I am as unworthy a creature as ever the sun shone 
upon ; but blessed be God, grace is grace." 

2. Plead Christ's commission, Isa. 61:1. He was sent 
" to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of 
the prison doors to them that are bound." Lord, hear a 
poor prisoner, a frozen, locked, bound-up heart; loose me, 
knock off my fetters, and bring my soul out of prison. 
Thou hast all fulness dwelling in thee, and thou hast it 
to bestow on such miserable objects as I am ; Lord, here's 
a naked body for thee to cover, an empty soul for thee to 
fill, a wounded soul for thee to cure. Lord, thou camest 
to seek and save that which was lost, and wilt thou not be 
found of a lost sinner that is seeking thee "? 

3. Plead the communicativeness of his mercy to oth- 
ers : he had compassion upon men's bodies while he was 
upon earth, even the bodies of wicked men, such as the 
unthankful lepers, he let none of them go without healing 
that came to him ; say. Lord, didst thou show so much 
compassion to diseased bodies, and wilt thou not have pity 
on my dying soul? Plead the compassion he hath shown 
to the worst of sinners, such as Manasseh, Mary Magda- 
lene, Paul, and those who murdered him. Plead his com- 
passion towards the finally obstinate and impenitent, such 



20 LOOKINa TO JESUS. 

as Jerusalem, over which he wept, Luke 19. Lord, did 
thy heart melt with pit} to such, and wilt thou not pity a 
humbled sinner, that confesseth sin, and would fain he 
reconciled to God ; is net mercy the work thou delightest 
in? Mic.7:18. 

4. Labor for a sense of the misery of a Christless 
state, of your great need of Christ, and of the happiness 
of being found in him ; and in a sense thereof, look to 
Christ and make a trial to take hold of him ; stir up your- 
self to it, and rest your soul on him, and God will help 
you and communicate strength. " Who is this that engag- 
eth his heart to approach unto me?" Jer. 30 : 21. He 
will pity and help such. If you cannot apply Christ to 
yourself and say, He is mine, yet apply yourself to Christ 
and say, I fain would be thine ; yea, I am resolved to be 
thine. Go to Christ, an(l say with the poor man, " Lord, ! 
believe ; help thou my unbelief." 



IVo. 573. 



WHAT SHALL I DO FOR JESUS ? 



First ask, Did 1 ever do any thi7ig for Jesus? There 
are many things done in the church, and by professors in 
the world., which are not done for Jesus. There is some 
other object in view. The eye is not single. The heart 
is not true. The motive is not pure. Did you ever give 
yourself to the Lord ? This is the first thing to be done. 
Jesus will not accept any thing from you until you have 
given him yourself. His first claim is, " My son, give me 
thy heart." Withhold from him the heart, and you 
withhold from him all. He will approve of nothing that 
you do. He will receive nothing from your hands. You 
are his enemy. You are in rebellion against him. You 
refuse to acknowledge his claims. You withhold his just 
rights. You grieve his loving heart. If you have not 
consecrated yourself to him, let me beseech you to go to 
his throne, present yourself before him as a humble sup- 
pliant, offer him your heart just as it is, saying, 

" Take my poor heart just as it is, 
Set up therein thy throne ; 
So shall I love thee above all, 
And live to thee alone." 
Having given him yourself, you may ask with Saul of 
Tarsus, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" And be 
sure that he has something for you to do, and something 
that no one will do so well as you — something that no 
one ought to do but you. He will say, " Son, go work to- 
day in my vineyard." What can you do ? This you can 
never tell until you try. What are you tvilling to do ? 
This you may soon ascertain. 

There is the Sabbath-school. Can you do any thing for 
Jesus there ? Can you take a class ? If not, can you go 

19* 



2 WHAT SHALL i DO FOR JESUS? 

round the neighborhood and collect the children who are 
Ltill untaught, that others may teach them ? 

There is the house of prayer. Can you do any thing 
there ? Is it full ? If so, can you not look out for young 
persons who attend, unnoticed by any in the congregation, 
and notice them, trying to get from them whether they fed 
the power of the word, and can you not follow up the 
preacher's appeals by a word in private ? Great good may 
be done in this way, if the people of God are alive to its 
_mportance, and will do it for Jesus. 

Is the congregation thin 1 Cannot you increase it ? 
Did you ever set about trying in good earnest? Is there 
no one that you could influence to attend ? What, not 
one ? If you could influence one, that one may influence 
another ; and in this way our churches would soon be 
filled. 

There is the minister. Can you do nothing for him ? 
Do you regularly contribute for his support, according to 
your means, not making the subscription of any one else 
your rule, but giving as God has prospered you — doing it 
for Jesus ? Do you set apart a certain portion of time 
every week, that you may pray for him ? Are you regu- 
lar in your attendance on his ministry and always early, 
that you may pray for him as you see him enter his pul- 
pit? Do you take inquirers to him, encouraging them to 
go and open their hearts to him when concerned for the 
salvation of their souls ? 

There are the sick. Do you ever visit them ? Jesus 
takes the visits paid to his sick saints as paid to himself. 
He says, " I was sick, and ye visited me." " Inasmuch aa 
yg did it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye 
did it unto me." How often do the Lord's sick lie and 
long to see a fellow-worshipper or a fellow-member come 
in, to read a portion of God's holy word, to offer up the 
prayer of faith, or to speak a word to him of Je«us. How 
many fears may be banished, how many temptations may 
be removed, how many sufferers mav be cheered, how 



WHAT SHALL I DO FOR JESUS? 3 

many sorrowful believers may be comforted, if their fellow- 
believers, instead of indulging self, should visit them for 
Jesus, and speak to them of Jesus. 

There are the poor. Will you relieve them? The poor 
saints, more especially. Jesus takes what is gjvcn to them 
as given to himself, and promises a reward. Hear his 
'.vords, believe them, try to realize the truth and impor- 
tance of them, that you may be influenced by them: " Who- 
soever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup 
of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say 
imto you, lie shall in no wise lose his reward ^ Mat. 10 : 42. 
You see, if you relieve the least saint with the smallest 
gratuity, not being able to do more, and do it for Jesus, 
he pledges his word that you shall on no account lose your 
reward. And how striking is the language of the Holy 
Spirit by the apostle James : " Pure religion and unde- 
filed before God and the Father is this, to visit the father- 
less and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself un- 
spotted from the world." Jas. 1 : 27. Tried by this stand- 
ard, how much pure religio?i have you? Some church- 
members have very little. When did you dry the widow's 
tears, and satisfy the orphan's wants — going to them, and 
not waiting for them to come to you ? Will you do this 
for Jesus ? 

There are the enemies of Christ, as all careless sinners 
are. You may speak to them, offer special prayer for 
them, and try to wi7t them to his cause. " He that win- 
neth souls is wise." But if we would win, we must be 
winning. Love is the key of the human heart. Once 
get it in, and you may soon open the door. Love will use 
gold, silver, kind words, and winning deeds, and thus gain 
access to the heart that was locked against ' truth and 
against God. Did you ever attempt to do this for Jesus ? 

Once more, there is the heathen world. Men and 
money are wanted ; you may help to provide them. The 
power of the Holy Spirit is absolutely necessary ; you may 
help to bring down that. There is plenty to do, and !io 



4 WHAT SHALL 1 DO FOR JESUS? 

time to be lost ; for while we trifle or delay, Satan is work- 
ing, time is flying, souls are perishing, saints are suffering, 
the cause of God is languishing, infidelity is spreading, 
and we are missing the mark. 

Let every Christian man, let every Christian woman, 
then, put the question to the heart — What can I do for, 
Jesus ? "What more can I do than I have done ? What 
more can I give than I have given ? Consider what he 
has done for you, what he is now doing for you, what he 
has already given you, what he has promised you, what 
he deserves from you, what he expects at your hands, the 
honor he has put upon you, the trust he has committed to 
you, the charge he has given you, the account he will de- 
mand of you, the rule by which he will reward you, and 
then ask. What can I do for Jesus? And if there be any 
faith in his blood, if there be any love to his name, if there 
be any reverence for his authority, if there be any concern 
for his cause, if there be any zeal for his glory, if there 
be any pity for sinners, if there be any regard for his 
word, ask, and be honest in asking, What can I do for 
Jesus? Reader, there is much needs doing, there is much 
that you may do, and if you stand idle now, you must 
regret it by and by ; rou^e, therefore — 

" Rouse to some work of high and holy love, 
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know— 
Shalt bless the world while in the world above: 
The good begun by thee shall onward flow , 
In many a branching stieam, and wider grow ; 
The seed that in these few and fleeting hours 
Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, 
Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, 
And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN IK ACT SOCIETY. 



I¥o, 574. 

THE 

PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 



" There is but One to whom the preeminence belongs , 
God has determined that no mere creature should bear 
that honor, " that no flesh should glory in his presence.'' 
On his dear Son, as is most meet, he has bestowed it ; on 
his head he has placed the universal crown of glory — to 
his hand he has given the sceptre of universal peace, and 
seated him on the throne of universal dominion, when he 
raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right 
hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, 
and power, and might, and dominion, and every name 
that is named, not only in this world, but in that which 
is to come ; and hath put all things under his feet, and 
made him to be the Head over all things to the church — 
"that in all things he might have the preeminence." 
Eph. 1 : 20, 22 ; Col. 1:18. 

Let us see how He has the preeminence in the esti- 
mation of the Deity — in the testimony of Scripture — in 
the glory of his works — in the hearts of believers — and in 
the worship and acclamations of heaven. 

1. Christ has the preeminence in the estimation of the 
Deity. 

On whom does God the Father concentrate his love 
and delight ? Jehovah calls him, " his own Son," his 
*'dear Son," his " beloved Son," his " elect," his " chosen," 
his " precious one," his " beloved Son, in whom he is well 
pleased." St. John uses an expression implying a love the 
depths of which no human intellect has ever fathomed : 



2 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

the Only Begotten, which is in the bosom of the Father^ 
that is, in his dear and intimate love, in his secret counsels 
and fondest embraces. And ere he had formed a star, oi 
a river, or a mountain, or a plant, he gave him glory and 
honor : ** the glory vi^hich I had with thee before the world 
was." John 1:18; John 17 : 5. 

When he brought him into the world, he said, "Let 
all the angels of God worship him." Then the morning 
stars sang together for him, and for him the sons of God 
shouted for joy. At his baptism a voice from the excel- 
lent glory announced, " This is my beloved Son, in whom 
I am well pleased." At his transfiguration, he clad him 
in robes of light, made his face shine as the sun, and again 
proclaimed, "This is my beloved Son; hear him." Just 
before his agony, the Saviour prayed, "Father, glorify thy 
name ;" and a voice said, "I have both glorified it, and 
will glorify it again." "When his sufferings were ended, 
sin put away, atonement made, and everlasting right- 
eousness brought in, then Jehovah smelled a sweet savor 
from his oblation, and smiled with divine benignity on 
his victorious Son, because in that work he had frustrated 
hellish schemes, accomplished heavenly counsels, fulfilled 
inspired prophecies, glorified divine attributes, and saved 
immortal souls. He sent an angel to roll away the stone, 
loosed the prisoner from his bands, and " raised him up 
from the dead, and gave him glory " and " highly exalted 
him, and gave him a name which is above every name, 
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of 
things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under 
the earth, and that every tongue should confess that 
Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.'* 
Ileb. 1:6; Mat. 3 : 17 ; Luke 9 : 35 ; John 12 : 28 ; 1 Pet. 
1:21; Phil. 2: 9, 11. , 

And the same preeminence is given to him by the 
Holy Spirit. " He anointed him with the oil of gladness? 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 3 

above his fellows ;" he shed his influence upon him with 
out measure ; he descended on his head like a dove at 
the day of his baptism ; and he, in the multitude of his 
thoughts within him, made God's comforts to delight his 
soul. Psa. 45 : 7 ; John 3 : 34 ; Mat. 3:17; Psa. 94 : 19 ; 
23: 1. 

And of whom does He speak — whom does he exalt in 
the hearts of his people ? " He," says Jesus, " shall glo- 
rify me, for he shall receive of mine, and shall show it 
unto you." "He shall testify of me." Christ is the 
object to which the finger of the Spirit constantly points, 
and the fountain whence he draws all consolation to bleed- 
ing hearts. Oh, when the Spirit exalts his person, our 
souls are enamoured with his beauty. Oh, when he tes- 
tifies of his works, how readily we say, "My soul doth 
magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my 
Saviour." Oh, when he exhibits his fulness to our fam- 
ished spirits, we cannot but exclaim, " The Lord is my 
shepherd, I shall not want." Oh, when he sheds abroad 
the love of our incarnate God, we cannot but " love Him 
who first loved us." Brethren, in the estimation of Deity, 
"in all things he has the preeminence." John 15 : 26 ; 
1 John, 4:19. 

2. Christ has the preeminence in the testimony of 
Scripture. 

Whom among the inhabitants of heaven do the Scrip- 
tures compare unto the Lord ? whom among the sons of the 
mighty do they compare unto Christ ? " Search the Scrip- 
tures, " said Jesus, "for they are they which testify of 
wi€." The books of Moses, the Psalms, and the prophets, 
have writings concerning me. His name is, like precious 
ointment, poured forth on the pages of Scripture, which 
gives fragrance and unction to every portion of the volume. 
The lines of both Testaments meet in him as in one com- 
mon centre. Fn the testimonies of the Bible concernin'T 



4 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

the glory, grace, and work of Christ, the Old Testament 
confirms the New, and the New Testament illustrates the 
Old. The New Testament tells me that I am to see him 
in Adam as my covenant Head ; in Noah, as my Rest; in 
Joseph, as my Saviour; in Judah, as my Surety; in Aaron, 
as my Priest ; in Moses, as my Mediator ; in Joshua, as 
my Commander ; in David, as my King ; in Solomon, as my 
Wisdom; in Jonah, as my Resurrection ; in the ark, as my 
Refuge ; in the mercy-seat, as my Propitiation ; in the 
temple, as my Flesh ; in the passover, as my Deliverer ; 
in the brazen serpent, as my Medicine ; in the red heifer, 
as my Sanctification ; in the feasts, as my Joy . m the 
cloud, as my Guide ; in the manna, as my Food ; in the 
rock, as my spiritual Drink ; in his presence, as my Glory. 
" The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy ; " that 
is, the cream, the essence, the substance, the aim and end 
of all prophecy. Without the preeminence of Christ, like 
Samson shorn of his locks, they become like other writ- 
ings ; but admit this, and then there is but one gospel 
under all dispensations — but one Saviour for all sinners. 
And whoever are the speakers or writers, whether patri- 
archs, or prophets, or kings, or angels, or poets, or apostles, 
or disciples, each vies with the other to give Christ the pre- 
eminence. The glories of heaven and the wonders of the 
earth; the honors of offices, or the happiness of relations; 
the attractions of beauty or the authority of dignity, are 
chosen as metaphors to set forth the preeminent excellence 
of Christ. John 5:39; Luke 24 : 44 ; Rom. 5 : 14 ; Gen. 
5:29; 1 Pet. 3: 21; Acts 7:9; Heb. 7:14; 5:4; 3:2; 
4:8; Markll:10; Mat.l2:42; 12:40; Heb.6 : 18; Rom. 
3:25; John 2:21; 1 Cor. 5:7; John 3:14; Heb. 9:13; 
1 Cor. 5:8; 10:1; John 6:51; 1 Cor. 10:4; Jude 24 ; 
Rev. 19:10. 

Sometimes the church is compared to a building, and 
tlien He is the only and sure Foundation ; the Corner-stone, 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 5 

precious and tried ; the Door into the heavenly edifice, 
and the Top-stone, who bears the glory. 1 Pet. 2:5; Isa. 
28 : 16 ; John 10:9; Zech. 6 : 13. 

Sometimes believers are represented as an army infe- 
rior in number and discipline to the mighty army by which 
they are opposed, and then he is exhibited as the Captain 
of the Lord's host; the Deliverer of Israel; the Forerunner 
who has attained the citadel, crowned with the laurels 
of his victory and the trophies of his war. At other times, 
if in straits or difficulties, we are bid to engage Him on 
our behalf who is the Wonderful, Counsellor, the Advo- 
cate with the Father, the Defender and Pleader of the 
cause of the widow and the orphan, the Judge of quick 
and dead. Josh. 5:14; Rom. 1 1 : 26 ; Heb. 6 : 20 ; Isa. 9:6; 
1 John, 2:1; Isa. 1:17; Acts 10:42. 

"When our relations are dead, or unkind, or unable to 
assist us, we are referred to Him who uni1;es in himself all 
relations. He is a Brother born for adversity, a Friend 
that loveth at all times ; the everlasting Father, who pities 
his cliildren ; the Bridegroom, in whose presence the bride 
cannot mourn ; the good Master, who rewards his servants 
with the best wages ; and the Servant who undertook to 
come from heaven to save us. Prov. 17 : 17 ; 18 : 24 ; Isa. 
0:6; Mat. 9 : 15 ; 23 : 8 ; Phil. 2:7. 

He is the true Vine, the Branch of righteousness, the 
tender Plant, the plant of Renown, the Rose, of Sharon, the 
Lily of the valley, the Tree of life in the midst of the par- 
adise of God. Jer. 33 : 15 ; Isa. 53 : 2 ; Ezek. 34 : 29 ; Sol. 
Song 2:1; Rev. 2:7. 

All created good has no glory and beauty, by reason 
of his beauty and glory which excelleth; for He is the 
beauty of the Lord, the Brightness of his Father's glory 
and the express Image of his person, the Diadem of beau- 
ty, the Crown of glory, the Desire of all nations. Psa. 
27:4; Heb. 1:3; Isa. 62:3; Hag. 2:7. 



G rKEEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

He is the Lion of the tribe of Judah, who for his cour- 
age and strength is worthy to take the book, and to un- 
loose the seals thereof He is the Lamb of God, who, by 
his patience, purity, and blood-shedding, taketh away the 
sin of the world. Rev. 5:5; John 1 : 29. 

He is the Sun of righteousness, the centre of the sys- 
tem of mercy to fallen man, the Light of the world, the 
bright and morning Star, the Dayspring from on high 
which has visited us. Mat. 4:2; John 8:12; Rev. 22 : 16 ; 
Luke 1 : 78. 

Are any of you discouraged because of the way, and 
oppressed with difficulties ? Ascend higher than the ma- 
terial heavens. Within the veil he sits, the Angel of God's 
presence, the Heir of all things, the Lord of hosts, the King 
of saints, the Lord of glory. Heb. 9:12; Isa. 63 : 9 ; Heb. 
1:2; Isa. 54 : 5 ; Rev. 15:3; 1 Cor. 2 : 8. 

See the office's and characters your Lord sustains, and 
be comforted, beloved. These are all characters in which 
he has no equal; offices which he executes with unrivalled 
majesty and blessedness. He is the good Shepherd who 
gave his life for you, the Bishop of your souls, the Proph- 
et mighty to save you, the Priest after the order of Mel- 
chisedek, the Saviour of the world, the Refiner and Puri- 
fier of the sons of Levi, the Mediator of the new covenant, 
the Minister of the sanctuary, the Physician of souls, the 
Word of God,- the Resurrection, the Propitiation, the 
Fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness, the living 
Bread, the Way, the Truth, the Life, our Hope, our 
Peace, our Wisdom, our Righteousness, our Sanctification, 
our Redemption, the Author and Finisher of our faith. 
John 10 : 11; 1 Pet. 2 : 25 ; Luke 24 : 19 ; Heb. 5:6; John 
4:42; Mat. 3 : 3 ; Heb. 12 : 24 ; 8 :2; Mat. 9:12, IS^Rev. 
19 : 13 ; John 11 : 25 ; 1 John, 2:2; Zech. 13 : 1 ; John 
6 : 51 ; 14 : 8 ; 1 Tim. 1:1; Eph. 2 : 14 ; 1 Cor. 1 : 24 ; 1 : 30 ; 
Heb. 12:2. 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 7 

The Scriptures style him Jehovah-jireh, (the Lord will 
provide;) Jehovah-nissi, (the Lord my banner ;) Jehovah- 
shalom, (the Lord send peace;) Jehovah-rophi, (the Lord 
that healeth thee:) Jehovah-tsidkenu, (the Lord our right- 
eousness;) Jehovah-shammah, (the Lord is there;) the 
Prince of peace ; the Prince of life ; the King of Zion ; the 
King of righteousness ; the King of the Jews; Emmanuel, 
God with us ; the living God ; the true God ; the only wise 
God; the God over the whole earth; the mighty God; 
God over all, blessed for evermore ; Alpha and Omega, 
the first and the last ; the same yesterday, to-day, and for 
ever; "the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings 
and Lord of lords; who only hath immortality, dwelling 
in the light which no man can approach unto ; whom no 
man hath seen, or can see ; to whom be honor and power 
everlasting. Amen." Gen. 22 : 14 ; Exod. 17 : 15 ; Judges 
6 : 24 ; Exod. 15 : 26 ; Jer. 23 : 6 ; Ezek. 48 : 35 ; Isa. 9:6; 
Acts 3:15; Mat. 21:5; Heb. 7:2; Mat. 2 : 2 ; 1 : 23 ; 1 Tim. 
4 : 10 ; 1 John, 5 : 20 ; Jude 25 ; Isa. 54 : 5 ; 9 : 6 ; Rom. 5 ; 
Rev. 22 : 13 ; Heb. 13:8; 1 Tim. 6 : 14, 15. 

3. Christ has the preeminence in the glory of his 

WORKS. 

*'By him were all things cjeated, that are in heaven 
and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they 
be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all 
things were created by him, and for him ; and he is before 
all things, and by him all things consist." Col. 1 : 16. 

Nor is his work of providence less glorious than his 
work of creation. "All power is given unto him in heav- 
en and in earth ;" he upholdeth all things by the word 
of his power ; the government is upon his shoulder. And 
what must this be I The government of your little family 
often crushes you beneath its weight ; the government of 
one little spot on the earth has broken many a heart, and 
S3nt mjiny a noble patriot to an untimely grave ; but the 



8 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

reins of universal government are in his hands ; by him 
kings reign, and princes decree justice ; the eyes of all 
wait upon him, and he giveth them their meat in due 
season. The helpless, the widow, the fatherless, the 
needy, he provides for and protects ; while every event in 
the life of an individual, in the existence of a family, in 
the history of a nation, in the government of the world, he 
overrules for his own glory and the final triumph of his 
church, that in all things he might have the preeminence. 
Mat. 28 : 18 ; Heb. 1:3; Isa. 9:6; Prov. 8:15; Psalm 
145 : 15. 

And is not his work of redemption a glorious work? 
What can equal it in nobleness of design? "glory to God 
in the highest;" in the blessing it brings? "peace on 
earth;" in the aspect it bears? "good-will towards men." 
Sin had slain us all ; the curses of a broken law tied and 
bound our souls; justice called aloud to us bankrupts, 
" Pay me that thou owest, " and nothing but the prison of 
hell stood before us as our portion. But Jesus bowed 
himself to the burden, and the Lord laid on him the ini- 
quity of us all ; he was made sin for us, who knew no sin, 
that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. 
Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being 
made a curse for us. By himself he purged our sins ; his 
own arm brought salvation; he loved us, and gave him- 
self for us. And think. Oh think what this work does. 
"Which of all the works of men or of angels can procure 
such benefits ? Because Christ has by his atonement 
magnified the divine law, satisfied inflexible justice, and 
honored all the divine attributes, God can, without any 
sacrifice of his holiness, or any impeachment of his ve- 
racity, pardon the vilest penitent, and save the most aban- 
doned sinner. He is just, while he justifies the ungodly. 
Where sin abounded, grace, in this work of our adorable 
Saviour, does much more abound. It brings freely to 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 9 

man all the blessings he needs, to render him innocent be- 
fore God, happy in his own soul, a blessing to his neigh- 
bor, and meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. 
Isa, 53 : 6 ; 2 Cor. 5:21; Gal. 3:13; Heb. 1:3; Isa. 63 : 5 ; 
Eph. 5 : 25 ; Rom. 4 : 5 ; 3 : 2G ; 5 : 20. 

Beloved, hearken, all you who are guilty, "His blood 
cleanseth us from all sin ;" all you who are condemned, 
"His righteousness is unto all, and upon all them that 
believe ; " all you who have long scores of transgressions, 
" Through him is preached unto you forgiveness of sins ; " 
all you who sit down in despair, and say there is no hope, 
"Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out;" 
yea, he stands before you full of power, majesty, and 
love, saying, " Look unto me and be ye saved, all ye ends of 
the earth ; for I am God, and there is none else." Surely 
in all things that relate to the redemption of man, Christ 
has the preeminence. 1 John, 1:7; Eom. 3 : 22 ; Acts 
13 :38; John 6 : 37 ; Isa. 14:22. 

4. Christ has the preeminence in the hearts of be- 
lievers. 

There are many very dear to the saints, many v/ho 
have walked to the house of God in company with them, 
their fellow-pilgrims to the hill of Zion — their dear Jona- 
thans, dear as their own souls: then they have their 
precious husbands — their precious wives — their precious 
children — their precious health — their precious property — • 
their precious life ; but in their hearts who has the 
preeminence, who is welcomed to take the throne? Ev- 
ery voice of every redeemed spirit in his family woula 
say, Christ, none but Christ. "Unto you which believe 
he is precious:" the word in the original is preciousncsSj 
that is, preciousness itself — preciousness in the abstract — 
all preciousness. 1 Pet. 2 : 7. 

And although Christians are split into a thousand va- 
rious *sects, dissevered from one another by non-essential 



10 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

distinctions, and scattered over the Avhole globe, yet, find 
one of any sect that has embraced Christ and believes in 
him, of any color, any clime, and language, and ask him, 
What think you of Christ? And his answer will be, "He 
is the chiefest among ten thousand, the altogether lovely." 
Gather them all together, and though they have fought 
many a battle for a feather, and triumphed over each 
other where the victory was not worth having, and ask 
them to join in a hymn of praise to Christ; and with all 
harmonious human tongues, and in melodies which would 
charm an angel, and in hallelujahs which would make 
the pillars of heaven tremble, they would sing, "Unto 
Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own 
blood, and hath made us kings and priests to God and his 
Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. 
Amen." Many of them have proved it by their actions. 
Abram left his kindred, his country, and his father's house^ 
for Christ; he rejoiced to see Christ's day; he saw it, and 
was glad. Moses, though he stood fair for the throne, 
esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than the 
treasures of Egypt. Paul counted his birthright honors, 
prospects, gains, but dung, that he might win Christ 
Stephen cheerfully submitted to be stoned for him; the 
apostles rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer 
shame for his name. And the blessed martyrs were 
stoned, were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain 
with the sword, and would not accept deliverance at the 
price of denying him. Rev. 1:5; John 8 : 56 ; Heb. 11 : 26 ; 
Phil. 3:8; Acts 7 : 60 ; 5 : 41. 

And no wonder; who should be preeminent in their 
esteem, if Christ is not? He laid aside his robes of glory 
and took their flesh, to become their kinsman ; he redeem- 
ed them from slavery, not with corruptible things, as sil- 
ver and gold, but with his own precious blood ; he clothed 
them v;ith the garment? of salvation, and covered them 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 11 

with the robe of righteousness ; he has opened the gates 
of paradise, and removed the flaming sword out of the 
way, for their free access to glory ; he has gone to prepare 
mansions for them, and he will give them a throne, a 
crown, a white robe, a palm of victory, the vision of his 
glory, and everlasting rest. Oh, should not he be preemi 
nent in their esteem ? A thousand lives, if each had them, 
would be a small sacrifice for such love. The sweetest 
praise from the warmest heart must be cold and poor, 
compared with the immeasurable obligations under which 
his grace has laid them. Blessed Jesus, we beseech thee 
show us thy glory, that in our hearts thou mayest ever 
maintain the preeminence. 

5. Jesus Christ has the preeminence in the happiness 
and acclamations of heaven. 

Whence springs all the happiness of heaven ? It will 
be some part of that happiness, that the holy angels are 
there, who have attended us, ministered to us, and assisted 
us in a variety of ways, in all our afflictions and dangers. 
Oh, to be associated with those beings that never fell from 
their first estate, never sinned, and always do the Mdll 
of their Father in heaven ; surely this will be bliss. And 
it will add no small portion, to find the saints there, all 
the holy people the earth ever bore, gathered together to 
Christ, to be our companions for ever. "VYill you not re- 
joice, mother, to see your son there — your once rebellious, 
but in later years converted, and now glorified child, for 
whom you spent so many prayers, tears, and wrestlings? 
And will you not be happy, father, to find your daughter 
there, who aforetime was your cross, but regenerated and 
made a "chaste virgin to Christ?" And ye grandfathers 
and grandmothers, will not that be bliss, to see your sons' 
sons and your daughters' daughters, there, "walking with 
Christ in white ?" And you ministers, to see the children 
for whom you travailed in birth, and sometimes stood in 



12 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

doubt, now crowned with glory ? And ye friends, to se«; 
your fellow-laborers in the kingdom, and patience of 
Christ — who prayed with you, heard with you, wept 
with you — now before the throne ? And will not you be 
happy to find yourself there, after all your fears, dangers, 
and predictions to the contrary, without sin, and in glory 
unspeakable? Oh yes; but in all things in heaven. He 
must have the preeminence. This is heaven. *' Father, I 
will that they whom thou hast given me, be with me 
where I am, that they may behold my glory." Oh, to be 
with Christ I with him as my Redeemer, my portion, my 
all! And to see his glory, not, as I did here, veiled with 
clouds of doubts and sin, but without a veil. Oh. to see 
that face, once more marred than any man's, now bright- 
er than ten thousand suns — that head, once crowned with 
thorns, crowned with many crowns — those wounded hands, 
more brilliant than the topaz of Ethiopia. Oh, this is 
heaven I Methinks when a soul disimprisoned from the 
body ascends to glory, he stays not to look at Gabriel or 
Michael, as Dr. Watts intimates. No ; Abraham and Moses 
and Elijah have no attractions for him, but he presses 
onwards through the ranks of redeemed spirits to the 
great white throne, fixes his longing eyes on Emmanuel, 
and casts his crown before him, saying, "My Lord and 
my God," 

"Lost in wonder, love, and praise." 

And who has the preeminence in all the acclamations 
and worship of heaven ? Do angels and saints tliink of 
*praising one another ? Do they laud Abraham, or Moses, or 
Elijah, or Isaiah, or Daniel ? Oh, no : what they were, 
Christ made them ; what they have, Christ gave them ; 
where they are, Christ brought them ; and to praise them, 
would be to praise thp work instead of the workman, the' 
building instead of the architect. "This people have I 
formed for myself, they shall show forth my praise." In 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 13 

heaven tliere shall be "as the voice of many waters, and 
as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Hallelujah, for 
the Lord God omnipotent reigncth." Draw aside the veil, 
and take a glance at tliat blessed company. " I beheld, and 
lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all 
nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood be- 
fore the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white 
robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried with a loud voice, 
saying. Salvation to our God that sitteth upon the throne, 
and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about 
the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and 
fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, 
saying. Amen : Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanks- 
giving, and honor, and power, and might, be unto our God 
for ever and ever. Amen." And yet the chorus swells, and 
still the thunder rolls, and still the strain waxes louder 
and louder. " I beheld, and I haard the voice of many 
angels round about the throne, and the beasts, and the 
elders ; and the number of them was ten thousand times 
ten thousand, and thousands of thousands ; saying with a 
loud voice. Worthy is the Lamb tliat was slain, to receive 
power, and riches, and wisdom, Tvud strength, and honor, 
and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is in 
heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such 
as are in the sea, and all that is in them, heard I saying. 
Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power be unto Him 
that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever 
and ever." Rev. 19 :6; 7 : 9-12 ; 5 : 11-13. 

And now, beloved, let me entreat you, 

1. Give him the preeminence in your hearts. How 
lew hearts are Christ's temple ; in how small a number 
has he the preeminence ! Sin, pleasure, gain, have the 
preeminence. How many of you labor for these, welcome 
these I And will you harbor such a crew, that are rob- 
bing your soul of its peace now, and of its salvation hero- 

VOL. XIII. 20 



14 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

after ? What, not let Christ in, who by warnings, afflic- 
tions, sermons, threatenings, has been knocking so long ? 
What, not let Christ in, the Saviour of the lost, and the 
comforter of the miserable? What, not let Christ in, who 
brings with him pardon, peace, joy, heaven ? Lift up 
your heads, ye gates of indifference and sloth ; I demand 
of you, in the name of my Master, be ye lift up, ye ever- 
lasting doors of unbelief and impenitence, and let the 
King of glory in. I repeat. Lift up your heads, ye gates 
of indifference and sloth ; I demand of you, in the name 
of my Master, be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors of unbe- 
lief and impenitence, and let the King of glory in. 

If any doubt whether the salvation of Christ can ex- 
tend to such a state of exceeding sinfulness as theirs, let 
them know, that the intent of the gospel is to proclaim 
the preeminent mercy and grace of the Lord Jesus. He 
pardons not like man, but as God. His forgiveness ex- 
tends not to a few sins, but to all iniquities, though crim- 
son and scarlet in their glowing colors. None were ever 
rejected by him because they were too great sinners. Let 
no man's heart fail him, then, concerning his mercy. If 
sin be eminent, grace is preeminent; "where sin abound- 
ed, grace doth much more abound." Rom. 5:20. 

But if you rebel, if you will not give him the preemi- 
nence by submission, he shall gain it by conquest. Who 
art thou, sinner — canst thou contend with him ? Canst 
thou conquer Omnipotence ? Go, uproot the everlasting 
mountains; go, command the tide not to flow, or the sun 
not to shine : they shall sooner obey thee, than thou shalt 
escape his detection, or screen thyself from his power. In- 
the day of his preeminent glory, where wilt thou flee when 
his lips shall utter this command to liis angels? "But 
those mine enemies, which would not that I should reign 
over them, bring hither, and slay them before me." 

And you, Christians, who have received Christ Jcpus 



PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 16 

the Lord, which of you can say you love him as you ought, 
serve him as he deserves, that he has the entire preemi- 
nence, that you live for him, give for him, think of him 
preeminently ? What, not love Christ our King supremely ? 

"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, 
Prone to leave the G-od I love ; 
Here 's my heart, take and seal it. 
Seal it from thy courts above." 

2. Give Christ the preeminence in your houses. In the 
days of his flesh, there was no room for him in the inn ; 
so now there is so much other company, that you have no 
room for him in your house. And why shut him out? 
Oh, was there ever such a guest? Does he not repay those 
who entertain him 1 Did he not repay Zaccheus for wel- 
coming him to his abode? The first step he set on the 
threshold of his door, he exclaimed, "Zaccheus, this day 
is salvation come to this house." So that when Christ is 
welcomed to any habitation, salvation comes with him 
blessed guest I happy they who receive him joyfully I 
Was not Martha blessed for receiving him, her faith 
strengthened, and her brother raised to life ? Did she 
repent then of having opened her house for Christ ? give 
Christ the preeminence in your houses, set up an altar 
for Christ, speak about Christ, teach your children and 
servants about Christ, govern them by the laws of Christ, 
and say, "As for me and my house, we will serve the 
Lord." 

3. Labor that he may have the preeminence in the 
whole icorld. That preeminence he shall have, though 
his enemies oppose it. His Father has given him this 
patrimony : " 1 will give thee the heathen for thine inheri- 
tance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy posses- 
sion." Psa. 2 : 8. His Father has sworn it : " As I live, 
Haith the Lord, all the earth shall be filled with my glory." 
Presently the kingdoms of this world shall become the 



16 PREEMINENCE OF CHRIST. 

kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. " He shall build 
the temple of the Lord, even he shall build the temple oi 
the Lord, and he shall bear the glory, and shall sit and 
rule upon his throne." 

And who would not labor, like Samuel and Elijah 
and Isaiah and Daniel and Peter and Paul, to give him 
the preeminence ? Brethren, ye that " make mention of 
the Lord, give him no rest till he make Jerusalem a praise 
in the earth :" brethren, make wings for your riches, and 
bid them carry the glad tidings to the remotest river : 
brethren, ye who preach Christ, preach him more, " exalt 
hira and extol him, and make him very high'' — higher 
and higher and higher in every sermon. And I, if I for- 
get thee, Jesus, let my right hand forget her cunning ; 
if I do not remember thee, my Master and Lord, let rriy 
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I prefer not 
Christ above ray chief joy. 



TKo. 575. 

CHARACTERS 

OF 

A BELIEVING CHRISTIAN, 

IN PARADOXES AND SEEMING CONTRADICTIONS. 

BY THE CELEBRATED LORD BACON, WHO DIED IN 1626. 



1. A Christian is one that believes things he cannot com* 
prehend ; he hopes for things which neither he nor any man 
aUve ever saw ; yet in the issue, his behef appears not to be 
false ; his hope makes hrni not ashamed. 

2. He believes a virgin to be a mother of a son ; and that 
very son of hers to be her maker. He believes Him to have 
been shut up in a narrow room, whom heaven and earth could 
not contain. He believes him to have been born in time, who 
was and is from everlasting. He believes him to have been a 
weak child, carried in arms, who is the Almighty ; and him 
once to have died, who only hath life and immortality. 

3. He believes a most just God to have justified him, 
tl;pugh a most ungodly sinner. He believes himself freely 
pardoned, and yet a sufficient satisfaction was made for him. 

4. He believes himself to be precious in God's sight, and 
yet loathes himself in his own. He dares not justify himseU 
even in those things wherein he can find no fault with himself, 
and yet believes God accepts him in those services wherein he 
is able to find many faults. 

5. He praises God for his justice, and yet fears him for his 
mercy. He is so ashamed that he dares not open his mouth 
before God ; and yet he comes with boldness to God, and 
asks him any thing he needs. He is so humble as to acknow- 
ledge himself to deserve nothing but evil ; and yet believes 
that God means him all good. He is one that fears always, 
yet is as bold as a lion. He is often sorrowful, yet always 



2 CHRISTIAN PARADOXES. 

rejoicing ; many times complaining, yet alrays giving tlianks. 
He is the most lowly-minded, yet the greatest aspirer ; most 
contented, yet ever craving. 

6. He bears a lofty spirit in a mean condition ; when he 
is ablest, he thinks meanest of himself. He is rich in poverty, 
and poor in the midst of riches. He believes all the world to 
be his, yet he dares take nothing without special leave from 
God. He covenants with God for nothing, yet looks for a 
great reward. He loses his life, and gains by it ; and while 
he loses it he saves it. 

I. He lives not to himself, yet of all others he is most 
wise for himself. He denies himself often, yet no man loves 
himself so well as he. He is most reproached, yet most 
honored. He has most afflictions, and most comforts. 

8. The more injury his enemies do him, the more advan- 
tages he gains by them. The more he forsakes worldly things, 
the more he enjoys them. 

9. He believes the angels to be more excellent than him- 
self, and yet accounts them his servants. He believes that he 
receives many good things by their means, and yet he neither 
prays to them for their assistance, nor offers them thanks, 
which he does not disdain to do to the meanest Christian. 

10. He believes himself to be a king, how mean soever he 
be : and how great soever he be, yet he thinks himself not too 
good to be a servant to the poorest saint. 

II. He is often in prison, yet always at liberty ; a free 
man, though a servant. He loves not honor among men, 
yet highly prizes a good name. 

12. He would lay down his life to save the soul of his 
,enemy, yet will not adventure upon one sin to save the life of 

him who saved his. 

13. He swears to his own hinderance, and changeth not ; 
yet knows that his oath cannot tie him to sin. 

14. He beheves Christ to have no need of any thing he 
does, yet makes account that he relieves Christ in all his acts 
of charity. He knows he can do nothing of himself, yet labors 
to work out his own salvation. He professes he can do 
nothing, yet as truly professes he can do all things : he knows 



CHRISTIAN PARADOXES. 3 

that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, yet 
believes he shall go to heaven both body and soul. 

15. He trembles at God's word, yet cdunts it sweeter to 
him than honey and the honey-comb, and dearer than thou- 
sands of gold and silver. 

16. He believes that God will never damn him, and yet 
fears God for being able to cast him into hell. He knows ho 
shall not be saved by, nor for his good works, yet he does all 
the good works he can. 

IT. He knows God's providence is in all things, yet is as 
diligent in his calling and business, as if he were to provide 
for his own happiness. He believes beforehand that God has 
purposed what he shall be, and that nothing can make him 
alter his purpose ; yet prays and endeavors, as if he would 
force God to save him for ever. 

18. He prays and labors for that which he is confident 
God means to give ; and the more assured he is, the more 
earnest he prays. He believes his prayers are heard, even 
when they are denied, and gives thanks for that which he 
prays against. 

19. He has within him both flesh and spirit, yet he is not 
a double-minded man ; he is often led captive by the law of 
sin, yet it never gets dominion over him ; he cannot sin, yet 
he can do nothing without sin. He does nothing against his 
will, yet maintains he does what he would not. He wavers 
and doubts, yet obtains. 

20. He is often tossed and shaken, yet is as mount Zion. 
He is sometimes so troubled, that he thinks nothing to be true 
i?j religion ; yet if he did think so, he could not at all be 
troubled. He thinks sometimes that God has no mercy for 
him, yet resolves to die in the pursuit of it. He beheves, like 
Abraham, against hope, and though he cannot answer God's 
logic, yet, with the woman of Canaan, he hopes to prevail with 
the rhetoric of importunity. 

21. He wrestles, and yet prevails ; and though yielding 
himself umvorthy of the least blessing he enjoys, yet, Jticob- 
like, he will not let him go without a new blessing. He some- 
times thinks himself to have no grace at all, and yet how poor 



4 CHRISTIAN PARADOXES. 

and afflicted soever he be besides, he would not change con- 
ditions with the most prosperous man under heaven, that is a 
manifest worldling. 

22. He thinks sometimes that the ordinances of God do 
him no good, yet he would rather part with his hfe than be 
deprived of them. 

23. He was born dead ; yet so that it had been murder 
for any to have taken his life away. After he began to live, 
he was ever dying. 

24. And though he has an eternal life begun in him, yet 
he makes account he has a death to pass through. 

25. He counts self-murder a heinous sin, yet is ever busied 
in crucifying the flesh, and in putting to death his earthly 
raembei*s : not doubting but there will come a time of glory, 
v.hen he shall be esteemed precious in the sight of the great 
God of heaven and earth, appearing with boldness at his 
throne, and asking any thing he needs ; being endued with 
humility, by acknowledging his great crimes and ojffences, and 
that he deserves nothing but severe punishment. 

26. He believes his soul and body shall be as full of glory 
as them that have more j and no more full than theirs that 
have less. 

2t. His death makes not an end of him. His soul which 
was put into his body, is not to be perfected without his body ; 
yet his soul is more happy when it is separated from his body, 
than when it was joined uito it : and his body, though torn 
in pieces, burnt to ashes, ground to powder, turned to rotten- 
ness, shall be no loser. 

28. His Advocate, his Surety, shall be his Judge; hi§ 
mortal part shall become immortal ; and what was sown in 
corruption and defilement shall be raised in incon'uption and 
glory ; and a finite creature shall possess an infinite happiness. 
Glory be to God. 

Note. These Paradoxes are inserted in several editions of Lord Bacon'si 
works, but have recently been ascribed to Eev. Herbert Palmer, a leading 
member of the Westminster Assembly of Divines. 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 150 NASSAU-ST., N. T. 



IVo. 376. 

THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 



"In Ei5i," says the apostle Paul to the Colossians, 
"dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily; and ye are 
complete in Him." The inspired oracles abundantly show- 
that our glorious Redeemer was not only man, but truly God; 
"able to save to the uttermost" all them that trust in Him. 

I. The holy Scriptures ascribe to the Lord Jesus Christ 
all the peculiar and distinguishing names of the supreme God. 

Jehovah is a name peculiar to God — a name by which he 
is distinguished from all other beings. "I am the Lord 
[Jehovah] thy God." *"I am the Lord, [Jehovah,] that is 
my name." "The Lord [Jehovapj] is greater than all gods." 
''The Lord [Jehovah] is the true God ; he is the living God, 
and an everlasting King." "Whose name alone is Jehovah." 
This name is pecuharly descriptive of the divine nature, and 
altogether inapplicable to any created being. But it is 
repeatedly and emphatically ascribed to the Lord Jesus Christ. 
After predicting his incarnation the prophet Isaiah exclaims, 
"Trust ye in the Lord for ever ; for in the Lord Jehovah is 
everlasting strength." Again, "The voice of him that crietli 
in the wilderness. Prepare ye the way of the Lord, [Jehovah,] 
make straight in the desert a highway for our God." The 
prophet Jeremiah has called Christ Jehovah in the following 
remarkable prediction: "Behold, the days come, saith the 
Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a 
King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute judgment and 
justice in the earth. In his days Judah shall be saved, and 
Israel shall dwell safely ; and this is his name w^iereby he shall 
be called. The Lord [Jehovah] our righteousness." The 
Hebrew word which in these passages is translated Lord, is 
Yehovah— Jehovah. Exod. 20 : 2 ; Lev. 11 : 44 ; 18 : 30 ; 
19 : 3 ; 20 : 7 ; 23 : 22 ; Isa. 42 : 8 ; Exod. 18 : 11 ; Jer. 
10 : 10 ; Psa. 83 : 18 ; Isa. 26 i ; 40 : 3 ; Matt 3:3; Mark 
1:3; Luke 3:4; Jer. 23:5, G. 
20* 



2 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

Christ is frequently called God. "In the beginning was 
the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was 
God." That by the Word in this passage is intended Jesus 
Christ, appears from the fourteenth verse of the same chapter : 
"And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and 
we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the 
Father, full of grace and truth." " Of whom, as concerning 
the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever." 
''Unto the Son he saith. Thy throne, God, is for ever and 
ever." "Without controversy, great is the mystery of godli- 
ness: God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, 
seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the 
world, received up into glory." John 1:1; Rom. 9:5; 
Heb. 1:8; 1 Tim. 3:16. 

He is called the mighty God. " Unto us a child is born, 
unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his 
shoulder ; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, 
the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of peace." 
Isa. 9 : 6. 

He is called the living God. "That thou mayest know 
how thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God, 
which is the church of the living God, the pillar and ground 
of the truth." That Christ is here intended by the living God, 
is evident from the next verse : " Without controversy, great 
is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in the flesh." 
1 Tim. 3:15, 16. 

He is called the Son of God, and the true God. "Who 
is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that 
Jesus is the Son of God ? He that believeth on the Son of 
God hath the witness in himself : he that believeth not God, 
hath made him a liar, because he believeth not the record that 
God gave of his Son. And we know that the Son of God is 
come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know 
him that is true, and we are in him that is true, even in his 
Son Jesus Christ. This is tlie true God and eternal life.' 
"Truly this was the Son of God." 1 John 5 : 5. 10, 20; 
Matt. 27 : 54, 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 3 

He is called the King of kings, and Lord of lords. 
*' Until the app2aring of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is tke 
blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord 
of lords." He whose "name is called The Word of God," 
"liath on his vesture, and on his thigh a name written. 
King of kings, and Lord o^ lords." 1 Tim. 6 : 15 ; Rev. 
19:13,16. 

He is car.^>i the Holy One. ''Thou wilt not suffer thy 
Holy One to ^ee corruption." " I know thee who thou art, the 
Holy One." ''^lu ye denied the Holy One." Psa. 16 : 10 ; 
Acts2:27; 13:35; Mark 1:24; Luke4:34; Acts3;14. 

He is called the Lord of hosts. "Sanctify the Lord of 
hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and let him be your 
dread. And he shall be for a sanctuary ; but for a stone of 
stumbling and rock of offence to both houses of Israel." 
"Mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts.'* St. 
John assures us that Esaias said these things when he saw 
Christ's glory and spoke of him. Isa. 8:13, 14 ; 6:5; John 
12:41. 

He is called the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last. 
the beginning and the end, the Almighty. "I am Alpha and 
Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which 
is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." 
"I am Alpha and Omega," the beginning and the end, "the 
first and the last." "I am the first and the last: I am he 
that liveth and was dead ; and behold, I am aUve for ever- 
more." Rev. 1 : 8, 11, 17, 18. 

He is called Saviour. "My soul doth magnify the Lord, 
and ray spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." "For unto 
you is born, this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is 
Christ the Lord." " That they may adorn the doctrine of God 
our Saviour in all things." "We look for the Saviour, the 
Lord Jesus Christ." Luke 1 : 46, 47 ; 2 : 11 ; Tit. 2 : 10 ; 
Phil. 3 : 20. 

He is called Emmanud, which is, God with us, or God in 
our nature. "And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt 
call his name Jesus ; for he shall save his people from their 



4 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

sins. And they shall call his name Emmanuel, which beiii^ 
interpreted is, God with us." Matt. 1 : 21-23. 

These names are all expressly ascribed, in the holy Scrip- 
tures, to the Lord Jesus Christ. But they are the pecuhar 
and distinguishing names of the supreme, infinite, and eternal 
first cause of universal existence. Jesus Christ is, then, the 
supreme, infinite, and eternal Jehovah. 

II. Divine perfections are, in the holy Scriptures, 
ascribed to the Lord Jesus Christ. 

The uncreated, independent, and self-existent Jehovah is 
clothed with attributes which are essential to his nature ; 
which cannot be ascribed to any being whose existence is 
derived and dependent ; and which eminently distinguish the 
supreme Deity from all other beings. According to the Scrip- 
tures, he is omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal, un^ 
changeable, and infinitely holy, and righteous, and just, and 
merciful, and "long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and 
truth." All these perfections are also ascribed to the Lord 
Jesus Christ. 

Christ is omnipotent. The apostle declares that "He is 
able to subdue all things to himself." Christ has said, "All 
power is given unto me in heaven and in earth." "I am 
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the 
Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the 
Almighty." Phil. 3:21; Matt. 28 : 18 ; Kev. 1 : 8. 

Christ is omnipresent and omniscient. "Lo, I am with you 
alway, even unto the end of the world." "Jesus knew all 
men, and needed not that any should testify of man ; for he 
knew what was in man." "All the churches," said Christ, 
"shall know that I am he v/ho searches the reins and hearts." 
Matt. 28 : 20 ; John 2 : 24, 25 ; Rev. 2 : 23. 

Christ is eternal and unchangeable. He is from everlasting 
to everlasting. "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, 
and for ever." The great apostle, in writing to the Hebrews, 
applies to him the following passage from the one hundred 
and second Psalm. "And thou, Lord, in the beginning hast 
laid the foundation of the earth : and the heavens are the 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 5 

works of thy hands. They shall perish, but thou remainest : 
and they all shall Avax old as doth a garment ; and as a vesture 
shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed ; but thou 
art the same, and thy years shall not fail." Christ is "the 
King eternal and immortal." ''Having neither beginning of 
days nor end of life." His "goings forth have been from of 
old, from everlasting." He is expressly called the "everlast- 
ing Father." The voice of inspiration declares that "He liveth 
for ever and ever." Heb. 1:10; Psa. 102 : 25-27 ; Heb. 
1:10-12; lTim.l:lt; Heb.7:3; Micah5:2; Isa. 9 : G ; 
Rev. 4 : 9, 10 ; 5 : 14 ; 10 : 6. 

Holiness and justice, and all other moral perfections are, 
in the Scriptures, ascribed to God, in an absolute and appro- 
priate sense, in such a manner as to distinguish him from every 
created being. "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts." 
In this appropriate and distinguishing sense, and in the most 
forcible and unequivocal language, the same perfections are 
ascribed to the Lord Jesus Christ. He is emphatically called 
the Holy One, and the Just One. "Thou wilt not suffer 
thy Holy One to see corruption." "But ye denied the Holy 
One and the Just." "For Christ also hath once suffered for 
sins, the just for the unjust." Isa. 6:3; Psa. 16 : 10 ; Acts 
2 :27; 13:35; 3 :14; 1 Pet. 3 : 18. 

Indeed, every perfection which is essential to the supreme 
Deity, belongs equally, and in the same degree, to our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ. "For in Him dwelleth all the ful- 
ness of the Godhead bodily." That is, the divine nature, with 
all its essential perfections and attributes, dwelleth in Christ, 
in the most full, perfect, and complete manner. The Godhead 
is the divine nature ; and the fulness of the Godhead implies 
every divine perfection. The fulness and all the fulness of the 
Godhead, are as strong expressions as the apostle could havo 
used in proclaiming the Deity of Christ. 

III. Divine works are, in the holy Scriptures, ascribed to 
Jesns Christ. 

AYe are taught, in the Scriptures, that Jehovah created 
the world. "I am the Lord that maketh all things, that 



6 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

stretcheth forth the heavens alone, that spreadeth abroad the 
earth by myself." ''He hath made the earth by his power, he 
hath established the world by his wisdom, and hath stretched 
out the heavens by his discretion." But the creation of the 
world is clearly and repeatedly ascribed to Jesus Christ. "All 
things,'' said John, when speaking of Christ — "all things were 
made by him, and without him was not any thing made that 
was made." "For by him were all things created, that are 
in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether 
they be thrones or dominions, or principalities or powers ; all 
things were created bj him, and for him." Christ created the 
heavens and the earth, and all things that are therein. He 
created the spiritual and intelligent, as well as the material 
world. He created angels and men ; the invisible world of 
glory ; all the hosts of heaven ; all created beings, and all 
worlds. For "without him was not any thing made that was 
made." Isa. 44:24; Jer. 10:12; 51:15; John 1:3; 
Colos. 1 :16. 

Christ is the great preserver of all created things, "By 
him all things consist." "Being the brightness of his Father's 
glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all 
things by the word of his power." But this is mentioned by 
the prophet as a work peculiar to the infinite Jehovah. " Thou, 
even thou, art Lord alone. Thou hast made heaven, the 
heaven of heavens, with all their host; the earth and all 
things that are therein, the seas and all that is therein, and 
thou preservest them all." "In whose hand is the soul of 
every living thing, and the breath of all mankind." Colos. 
1:17; Heb. 1:3; Neh. 9:6; Job 12 : 10. 

The government of the world is a distinguishing work of 
God, and a work which evidently displays his infinite perfec- 
tions. But Christ is the supreme Governor of the world. He 
is elevated far above all thrones and dominions, and made 
head over all things. All events are subject to his control. 
All created existence is at his disposal. He holds the reins of 
universal government in his own hands. "The government 
ehall be upon his shoulder." "His dominion shall be from 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 7 

sea even to sea, aud from the river even to the end5> of tlie 
earth." "Far above all priiicipaUty and power and might 
and domuiion, and every name that is named, not only in 
this world, but also in that which is to come : and hath 
put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the Head 
over all things to the church." Isa. 9:6; Zach. 9:10; Eph. 
1:21, 22. 

Christ is the supreme Judge of all created intelligences. 
He judge th all nations and all worlds ; all men and angels ; 
and will pass the final sentence on all his rational creatures at 
the judgment of the great day. For "the Father judgeth no 
man ; but hath committed all judgment unto the Son." John 
5 :22. 

The work of salvation is a divine work. It is the work of 
the infinite Jehovah. "I, even I, am the Lord [Jehovah;] 
and beside me there is no Saviour." "I am the Lord [Jeho- 
vah] thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour." "And 
thou shalt know that I the Lord [Jehovah] am thy Saviour 
and thy Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob." But Christ is 
the Saviour, and the only Saviour of men. This is expressly 
asserted in many passages. "For we have heard him our-* 
selves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of 
the world." "And being made perfect, he became the author 
of eternal salvation unto all them who obey him." " Neither 
is there salvation in any other ; for there is none other name 
under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." 
Isa. 43 :11 ; 43 :3 ; 60 : 16 ; John 4 : 42 ; Heb. 5:9; Acts 
4 :12. 

The redemption of sinners is called a spiritual creation. 
This is the new heavens and new earth mentioned by the 
prophet Isaiah ; and which is represented as being a greater 
work than the creation of all things at the beginning. "Be- 
hold, I create new heavens and a new earth ; and the former 
shall not be remembered, nor come into mind. But be ye glad 
and rejoice for ever in that which I create : for behold, I create 
Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy." To create 
* Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy," or, in other 



8 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

words, to redeem any part of the moral world from bondage, 
sin, and destruction, and restore it to freedom, glory, and 
happiness, is a work so much greater than the creation of all 
things at the beginning of the world, that no comparison can 
be made between them. The work of redemption, then, is 
the most glorious manifestation that can be made of the per- 
fections of the one only supreme and unchangeable Jehovah. 
But this precious work is repeatedly and explicitly ascribed to 
Jesus Christ. He is "the Redeemer who shall come to Zion f 
the great "High-priest," who alone is able to atone for the 
transgressions of men ; the only "Mediator" between heaven 
and earth. To redeem men from the bondage of sin and the 
dominion of Satan, to dehver them from the blackness of ever- 
lasting darkness, and to restore them to the liberty and felicity 
of God's children, were the great objects for which he came 
into the world, and which, as inspiration assures us, he faith- 
fully accomplished. "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse 
of the law, being made a curse -for as." Isa. 65 : 17, 18; 
59 : 20 ; Heb. 2:17; 3:1; ^ . 14 ; 7 : 26 ; 1 Tim. 2:5; 
Heb. 8:6; 9 : 15 ; 12:2^; Gal. 3:13. 
*" Christ alone communicates to believers that saving know- 
ledge of God which is essential to salvation. " No man knoweth 
the Father, save the Son, and he to whom the Son will reveal 
him." He is the author of all spiritual illumination. He is 
emphatically called, "The light of the world ; and the light of 
life." "The true light, which lighteth every man that conieth 
into the world." Matt. 11 : 27 ; John 8:12; 9:5; 1:9. 

Christ changes the heart of stone into a heart of flesh, 
administers the washing of regeneration, and sanctifies and 
cleanses the souls of believers. " Christ loved the church, and 
gave himself for it ; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with 
the washing of water by the word, that he might present it 
to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or 
any such thing." "He washes away, in his own precious 
blood, the sins of believers ; delivers them from the condemning 
sentence of the divine law ; clothes them with his own spotless 
righteousness ; and admits them to all the benefits of justifi- 



1-HE FULNESS OF CilRIST. 9 

cation, adoption, and sanctification." Colos. 3 : 10 ; 2 Cor. 
4:16; Tit. 3:5; Eph. 5:25-2t; 2 Cor. 3:18. 

Christ grants forgiveness of sins. When a man sick of 
the palsy was brought to him, "Jesus seeing their faith said 
unto the sick of the palsy, Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be 
forgiven thee." And when the scribes were ready to accuse 
him of blasphemy for thus claiming divine power, he replied, 
''Wherefore think ye evil in your hearts? For whether is 
easier to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee ; or to say, Arise, and 
walk ? But that ye may know that the Son of man hath^oim 
on earth to forgive sim, then saith he to the sick of the palsy, 
Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thy house." Matt. 9 : 2-6. 

It is the work of Christ to overcome Satan, to bruise the 
serpent's head, and to "destroy," and bring to naught, "the 
works of the devil." He will cast the devil and all his angels, 
and all his followers, into the regions of eternal perdition. 
"Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared 
for the devil and his angels." "And the devil that deceived 
them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the 
beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day 
and night for ever and ever." Rom. 16 : 20 ; Gen. 3 : 15 ; 
John 3:8; Matt. 25 : 41 ; Rev. 20 : 10. 

Christ will raise the dejid. "We look for the Saviour, tjie 
Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it may 
be fashioned like nnto his glorious body, according to the 
working whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto 
himself." "The hour is coming, in the which all who are in 
the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth : they that 
have done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they that 
have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation." At his 
command "the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, 
and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ; the earth also, 
and the works which are therein, shall be burned up." Phil. 
3 : 20, 21 ; John 5 : 28, 29 ; 2 Pet. 3:10. 

He will conduct his redeemed family to the realms of 
immortal glory — to pleasures, riches, and honors which 'eye 
hath not seen^ nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 



10 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

heart of man." He will give to the church "new heavens and 
a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness." He will create, 
support, and illumine the holy city, the new Jerusalem. And 
he will crown all humble believers with eternal glory, and 
make them "kings and priests unto God." Matt. 25 : 34 ; 
1 Cor. 2 : 9 ; 2 Pet. 3:13; John 14 : 2, 3 ; Rev. 3:12; 
21 : 2, 6, 10, 23 ; 1 Pet. 1:11; Rev. 1:6; 5 : 10. 

Such are the works of our Lord Jesus Christ. And such, 
reason, common-sense, and divine revelation unitedly declare, 
are the peculiar and distinguishing works of the supreme, 
eternal, independent, and self-existent Jehovah. 

IV. The Lord Jesus Christ is represented, in the holy 
Scriptures, as an object of religious worship. He is worthy 
to receive the supreme homage and adoration of all on earth, 
and all in heaven. All intelligent creatures are commanded 
to worship him as God. "That all men should honor the 
Son, even as they honor the Father," "And let all the angels 
of God worship Him." But we are expressly taught that the 
supreme God alone may be worshipped. " It is written, thou 
shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." 
John 5 : 23 ; Heb. 1:6; Matt. 4 : 10 ; Luke 4:8; Deut. 
6 : 13 ; 1 Sam. 7 : 3. 

When Christ came, idolatry had extended its dominion 
over almost the whole world. One great end of his coming 
in the flesh was to destroy its dominion, and substitute in its 
stead the worship of the living God. But if he were not God, 
instead of destroying idolatry he must have taught the practice 
of it ; for he taught mankind to worship himself. In a 
prophecy of the incarnation and ministry of Christ, we read 
that "the Lord alone shall be exalted ; and the idols he shall 
utterly abolish." Isa. 2 : 17, 18. 

None will contend, that if Christ were a mere creature he 
ought to be worshipped in the same manner as the infinite 
God. Supreme worship is due only to the supreme Jehovah. 
But the Scriptures declare that the same worship shall be 
rendered to God the Father, and to Jesus Christ, without any 
distinction. "That all men sho'ild honor the Son, even afi 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. It 

they honor the Father." " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, 
to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing. And every creature which is 
in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as 
are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard I saying, 
Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power be unto Him that 
sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamh, for ever and ever." 
No difference was made either in the nature or degree of the 
worship which was given to Him who sitteth on the throne, 
and that which was given to the Lamb. Each received 
blessing, and glory, and honor, and power ; and each will 
receive them for ever and ever. The Father and the Son will 
jointly and equally and eternally participate in the same un- 
divided worship, from all the holy angels, and from the re- 
deemed of mankind. John 5 : 23; Rev. 5 : 12, 13. 

It cannot, for a moment, be believed that the infinite and 
eternal God will permit a mere creature to share equally and 
eternally with himself, in receiving the supreme worship of his 
children. It cannot be believed, that God would give to 
mankind, as a perfect rule of life, a revelation which teaches, 
"Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt 
thou serve," Matt. 4:10; and which, at the same time, makes 
it the indispensable duty of men to worship a mere creature. 
The word of God condemns, and utterly forbids the worship- 
ping of any created being ; and the word of God commands 
all men and angels to worship the Lord Jesus Christ. The 
only consequence that can flow from these facts is, that Christ 
is God ; and this consequence is irresistible, it flows by absolute 
necessity. 

While Christ was on earth he was worshipped by the wise 
men from the east, and by all who became his true disciples. 
After his ascension to glory, Stephen, the first Christian 
martjrr, expired under the hand of persecution, worshipping 
Christ, acknowledging him to be God, and earnestly pray- 
ing, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The inspired apostles 
worshipped him as God. Guided by the inspiration of the 
almighty God, they connected Christ with the Father and the 



12 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

Holy Ghost in the ordinance of baptism, "baptizing in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." 
And also in pronouncing the blessing of heaven on the churches : 
"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, 
and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all." 
And in every age of the Christian church, from the days of the 
apostles down to the present hour, the humble followers of the 
Lamb, the meek and lowly disciples of Christ have rendered 
unto him supreme, homage and adoration. In doing this, they 
have been guided by the almighty and irresistible operations 
of the Holy Spirit. And the sure word of prophecy attests 
that, aided by the same Spirit, all the hosts of heaven shall 
continue to offer equal and undivided praise to Him who sitteth 
upon the throne, and unto the Lamb ; to God the Father, and 
to his Son Jesus Christ, for ever and ever." Matt. 2:11; 
Acts 7:59; Matt. 28 : 19 ; 2 Cor. 13:14; Rev. 5 : 13. 

The Lord Jesus Christ is, in the holy Scriptures, represented 
as being in heaven, sitting on a throne, at the right hand of 
bis Father, with whom he is continually interceding for be- 
lieving sinners, he is represented as searching the hearts and 
trying the reins of the children of men ; as being everywhere 
present with his faithful disciples, even unto the ends of the 
earth ; as coming to, and making his abode with all who love 
him ; and wherever and whenever two or three are gathered 
together in his name, he is said to be in the midst of them. 
Acts 1 : 55, 56 ; Matt. 19 : 28 ; Rev. 3 : 21 ; Heb. 8:1; 
Mark 16:19; Rom. 8 : 34 ; Colos. 3:1; Heb. 7 : 25 ; Rev. 
2 : 23 ; Matt. 28 : 20 ; John 14 : 23 ; Matt. 18 : 20. 

The Being who sustains this character ; who can compre- 
hend, in one intuitive view, the whole compass of universal 
nature ; who can be in heaven, making intercession for his 
children, and on the earth, making his abode with them ; who 
can at once search all the hearts, and know all the thoughts 
and words and actions of men throughout the boundless 
extent of creation ; and who can hear all the prayers, and 
praises, and holy aspirations of million^ of souls scattered over 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 13 

the whole face of the earth, and who can do all this at the same 
instant* must be the eternal, uncreated, and omnipresent God. 
Such is the nature of some part of the testimony which 
the holy Scriptures afford, to prove the absolute and supreme 
divinity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This view of 
the subject is supported by almost all the doctrines of the 
gospel ; by the miracles which Christ wrought in his own 
name, and with his own power, John 11 : 43 ; Acts 16 : 18 ; 
3:6; Matthew 10:1, etc. ; by the unlimited and personal 
authority with which he predicted future events ; and by a 
cloud of witnesses and floods of evidence, at which I have not 
here even glanced. Who can open the volume of inspiration 
and honestly examine those witnesses and that evidence, and 
not pour out his soul to Christ, in the affecting language of 
Thomas, "My Lord and my God I" 

The subject suggests some practical inferences of moment- 
ous import, 

1. If Christ be truly God, then sin is exceedingly vile, and 
sinners are unspeakably criminal in the sight of God. 

If the plan of redemption adopted by heaven required 
the interposition of a divine Mediator, then an infinite sacrifice 
was absolutely and essentially necessary to redeem man from 
eternal perdition. If sin were not vile in its nature, and de- 
structive to the good of the universe in its tendency ; if the 
sinfulness of man could have been removed, and his salvation 
effected at a cheaper rate ; if reconciliation between the holy 
God and sinful men could have been produced, and the honor of 
the divine law supported, without the interposition of a divine 
Redeemer, God would never have given his own Son : Christ 
would never have left the realms of glory, assumed human 
nature, obeyed the law in our stead, endured the penalty of our 
disobedience, and suffered the most painful death on the cross. 

2. If Christ be God, then God has displayed infinite benevo- 
lence in the great and precious work of redemption. 

When man had destroyed himself, in the God of Jacol) 
was his help. When by their own wicked rebellion mankmd 



14 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

had forfeited the favor of God, and exposed themselves to 
eternal misery ; when no plan of redemption could be devised 
by the invention of man ; when no created eye could pity, nor 
any created arm could bring salvation, then the eye of heaven 
was full of compassion, and the strong arm of Jehovah 
brought salvation. The infinite Emmanuel interposed. Having 
wrought everlasting righteousness, and made an infinite atone- 
ment, he delivers believing and penitent sinners from eternal 
perdition, and restores them to perfect and consummate bliss. 
Of his own self-moving goodness he devised, and is accomplish- 
ing the glorious plan of redemption. How wonderful, how 
boundless, how truly infinite is the benevolence of our almighty 
Redeemer I Let believers render unfeigned gratitude to God 
for benevolence so great, so divine, so infinitely glorious. 

3. Christ is able to save all who accept of Mm on the 
terms of the gospel. 

If Christ be God, he has unquestionably offered, for sin, 
an infinite sacrifice. He has brought in everlasting righteous- 
ness. He has made an atonement of boundless merit. He has 
opened the way for the everlasting felicity of all true believers. 
He is infinitely "able to save them to the uttermost, who 
come unto God by Him." The righteousness which he 
wrought, and the sufferings which he endured, received infinite 
merit from the union of Deity with the suffering humanity. 
Being God as well as man, his ability to save cannot be 
limited. It is truly infinite. None, therefore, who truly seek 
an interest in the great salvation of Christ, need despair on 
account of either the multitude or the magnitude of their sins. 
Although their sins be as scarlet, he can make them as white 
as snow ; and though they be red like crimson, he can make 
them as wool. Whosoever will, may come, and take the 
water of life freely. All who, truly humbling themselves 
before God, feel their extreme unworthiness and moral im- 
potence : receive Christ as their prophet, priest, and king ; 
acknowledge his divinity, obey his precepts, and rely on his 
atonement for the pardon of their sins, and on his righteous- 
ness for the justification of their souls, shall be saved, however 



THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 15 

numerous, however aggravated may have been their past 
transgressions. 

i. If Christ be God, then all who die in an unbelieving and 
impenitent state, and of course without an interest in the mer- 
its of Christ, must be eternally miserable beyond the grave. 

Unbelievers can have no part nor lot in the salvation of 
Christ. None who reject the offers of mercy, who obstinately 
persevere in a course of rebellion against God, and who finally 
go down to the grave without faith, repentance, and holy 
obedience, can derive any future benefit from the meritorious 
life, suiferiugs, and death of Christ. "Without faith it is im- 
possible to please God." Without repentance there can be 
no remission of sins ; and ''without holiness no man shall see 
the Lord." The condition of hypocrites and unbeliovers will 
be more dreadful in eternity than it would have been had 
no Saviour been provided. Having lived under the light of 
the gospel, to have despised and rejected the almighty Re- 
deemer, will complete the measure of their guilt, and draw 
down upon their heads the curses of the divine law. "He 
that believeth not, is condemned already, because he hath 
not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God." 
And if he persist in his unbelief until summoned to the judg- 
ment-seat of Christ, he must atone for his own sins, by enduring, 
in his own person, the "wrath and curse of God." He must 
be cast off into the "blackness of darkness for ever." No 
hope of pardon can, for a moment, be indulged. An interest 
in the righteousness and atonement of Christ will never more 
be offered. Having sinned away his day of grace, there will 
"remain no more sacrifice for sin." The divine law will for 
ever demand perfect and sinless obedience. The condemned 
sinner, having finally rejected the perfect righteousness of 
Clirist, will never be able to meet the demand of the law ; 
and consequently must eternally endure its threatened penalty. 
The miseries of the damned must be eternal. 

Christ is an infinite Saviour. He is "Emmanuel, God 
with us." He is "the chief among ten thousand," the one 
"altogether lovely." He is infinitely worthy of all your love, 



16 THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. 

fear, faith, trust, and hope. And he alone can save you from 
"indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish." Go then, 
I beseech you, to Christ. Place your affections supremely 
upon him. Trust in his merits. Exercise "repentance towards 
God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." No longer 
persevere in a state of "enmity against God." No longer 
despise the almighty Saviour. No longer reject the offered 
mercy. Let it not be your everlasting "condemnation, that 
light is come into the world, and you have loved darkness 
rather than light, because your deeds were evil." The precious 
light of the gospel is now shining upon you. The glad tidings 
of redeeming love are sounding in your ears. You are invited, 
warned, and entreated to flee from "the wrath to come." If 
you continue to reject the almighty Redeemer, and waste the 
remnant of your days in the practice of unrighteousness and 
impiety, you must "be punished with everlasting destruction 
from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power, 
when he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be 
admired in all them that believe." But if you now humble 
yourselves before God, repent of all your sins, believe in 
Emmanuel, consecrate what yet remains of life to his service, 
and rely on his obedience and sufferings alone for salvation, 
you shall become everlasting trophies of redeeming love. You 
shall be adopted into the family of God. And hereafter, 
standing on mount Zion, you shall mingle your praises with 
" ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands, 
saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, 
to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing." "Blessing, and honor, and 
glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever." Amen. 

Perpetuated by the liberality of the author, Ptev. Isaac Lewis, D. D., 
of New York, in the donation of one hundred dollars, just before his 
death, which occurred, September 23, 1854, in the 82d year of his age 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



r¥o. 577. 

DENNIS AND THE PRIEST. 

A DIALOGUE. 



" GooD-moniing, Dennis." "Good-morning, your rever- 
ence." 

"What is this they say of yon, Dennis? I am told yon 
have been to hear the preachers." "Yon have been told the 
truth, sir," answered Dennis. 

"And how could you dare to listen to heretics?" "God 
is not a heretic," said Dennis, "and it is the word of God, the 
Bible, that they read." 

"Aye, the Bible explained by a minister." "The Bible 
explained by itself," said Dennis; "when it is allowed to 
speak, it explains itself without assistance from any other 
quarter ; and in the very act of reading it, we allow it to 
speak." 

"But, after all, the minister preaches; and be insists on 
your believing what he preaches." "The preacher," replied 
Dennis, "tells us, when we go home to take the Bible and 
examine whether it contradicts or confirms what he has said 
from the pulpit." 

"But, don't you see that this is a mere sliam ; and that 
you, the common people, cannot examine the holy Scriptures, 
so as to judge whether they confirm or contradict what the 
preacher says?" "x\t that rate," said Dennis, "St. Luke 
made fools of the common people ; for the preacher pointed 
out to us a passage in the Bible which mentions that the 
Bcreans compared the preaching of the apostle Paul with the 
holy Scriptures ; and more than that, St. Luke commends 
them for doing so." Acts H : IL 

"Admirable! master Dennis; you are quite a doctor in 
divinity. You know as much as a whole synod of bishops. 
Your decisions will be equal to those of a general council." 
"I make no pretensions to judge for other persons," replied 
i)ennis, "but take the liberty of judging for myself. God 
inspired the Bible, and I read his inspired word." 

"But you are not able to understand it." "The best 
jiroof that I can is, that I really do understand it," said 
Dennis. " Why should I not understand the Bible, which has 

VOL. XIII. 21 



*2 DENNIS AND THE PRIEST. 

God for its author ? Cannot God express what he means as 
.well as a mere mortal? Besides, the Bible, speaking of itself, 
says that it is 'a light/'' Psa. 119 : 105. 

"Dennis, you are obstinate and conceited." "If he is an 
obstinate man who never changes his opinion," said Dennis, 
"it is you who are obstinate ; but as for me, I found myself in 
a bad road and changed for a better, that is all. I have 
never pretended to be infallible." 

"You are very conceited to think that you know so much 
more than others." "Others," replied Dennis, "are not very 
humble in thinking that they know more than God ; but it is 
to God and not to my fellow-men that I hold myself responsi- 
ble." 

"I must tell you that if you go on reasoning in this way, I 
shall not admit you to confession." " I confess myself," replied 
Dennis. 

"Not to me, at all events." "No ; but to God." 

"To God?" "Yes," said Dennis, "to God, who declares 
in the Bible, that 'if we confess our sins, he is faithful and 
just to forgive us our sins.'" 1 John 1 : 9. 

"The church will not marry you." "I will get married 
elsewhere." 

"The church will not bury you." "I shall not trouble 
myself about my dead body, if 1 save my soul." 

"You will be excommunicated." "No matter, if I am 
received by God." 

"No prayers shall be offered for you." "I shall pray for 
myself." 

"No masses will be said for you to release you from pur- 
gatory." "They would be of no use," said Dennis, "for I 
reckon on going to paradise." 

"To paradise, do you?" "Yes ; to paradise." 

"How do you know that?" "Why," said Dennis, "I 
read in the Bible that one of the thieves who were crucified 
Avith Jesus, after having confessed his sins to Jesus Christ, who 
is God, said to him, ' Lord, remember me.' ' And Jesus said 
unto him. Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with 
me in paradise.' Luke 23 : 41-43. If, then, a penitent male- 
factor could be pardoned by believing on Jesus Christ,' 1 can- 
not see why, if I repent and trust in the same Saviour, I may 
not obtain salvation ; and the proof that my hope is well 
founded lies in what I have read in the same blessed book, 



DENNIS AND THE PRIEST. 3 

that ' God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but 
have everlasting life.' John 3 : 16. If I beheve, I shall be 
saved." 

"But while you are waiting to go to paradise, you must 
live in this world, and I tell you plainly, that you will lose 
your livelihood by joining these heretics. No one will have 
any thing to do with you." "I trust in Him who gives us 
'day by day our daily bread,'" said Dennis, ''and if God be 
for me, what can all those do who are against me ?" 

"You will be a laughing-stock to every body." "And 
was not Jesus Christ mocked and set at naught ?" 

"Every body will shut their doors against you." "Jesus 
Christ had not where to lay his head." 

"You will be called an apostate." "Was not St. Paul 
thought to be the greatest of apostates at his conversion ?" 

"Every body v/ill take pleasure in refusing to do you a 
kindness." "The world persecuted the Master, and may 
persecute his disciples ; the more I am persecuted for my faith, 
the more I shall feel that I am truly a disciple of Christ." 

"Well, we shall see how long you will hold out. First of 
all, no one will give you any work." "And what next?" 

"No one will admit you under their roof." "And what 
next?" 

"No one will have any thing to do with you either in 
buying or selling." "And what next?" 

" No one will receive you into their society." "So then 
the whole world will conspire against me ?" 

"Certainly." "And who will be at the head of the con- 
spiracy ?" 

"Who I who! what does that signify ?^' " At all events," 
replied Dennis, " whoever he may be, you may tell him that he 
is not a Christian, for Christ commands us to forgive offences, 
while this man indulges revenge. Jesus commands men to 
love one another, and this man appears quite disposed to hate 
me. Should he happen to be a priest, you may tell him of 
the Sanhedrim, who, through hatred, condemned Jesus to 
death. Should he be a Jesuit, you may tell him that I am 
astonished at nothing done by him and by those who invented 
the inquisition. Christ said, ' Forgive,' and tlie inquisitors and 
priests take vengeance. Christ said, 'Teach all nations,' and 
you refuse even to let them read the Bible. Clirist said, 



4 DENNIS AND THE PRIEST. 

'Freely ye have received, freely give/ Matt. 10 : 8 ; and you 
sell — not, indeed, the gospel, for that you conceal — but you 
sell your masses, your prayers, your dispensations, your rosa- 
ries, your tapers, your indulgences, your baptisms, your inter- 
ments ; but as for me, I can make shift to do without any of 
your wares, while I apply to that God who gives heaven 
gratuitously." 

"Gratuitously!" "Yes," said Dennis, "God gives, and 
you sell. God pardons, and you punish. God loves, and you 
hate. How can you expect that we should not go to God, or 
wonder that we do not come to you ? But act towards me 
as you please ; I have learnt not to fear those who can kill 
the body, but to fear Him who can destroy the soul." 

"You are an insolent fellow." "I have the courage to 
speak the truth," said Dennis. 

"You are impious." "I was so," he replied, "while bend' 
ing the knee before images of wood or stone, but I have be- 
lieved in the living God, and trusted only in my Saviour." 

"You are a miseraljle wretch." "Yes, a miserable sin- 
ner ; but a penitent and humble sinner, I trust, whom God 
has pardoned." 

"You will always be a ." "What I shall be," said 

Dennis, "I do not know, but I know what I wish to be. I 
wish to live a godly life, because it was my sins that crucified 
the Saviour. I wish to be sincere, just, and charitable, 
because Jesus has been so good as to give me every thing, 
even more than I have words to express. He has granted me 
pardon, and heaven, and eternity. Thus my heart bounds 
with joy, and I am ready to do all that God requires of. me ; 
but what he requires of me is most delightful. It is to love 
him and love my brethren, to love even you, reverend sir." 

"I do not want your love." "I shall not the less pray 
for you," replied Dennis. 

"I do not want your prayers." "See the difference be- 
tween us," said Dennis, "I love you, and you hate me. I 
offer you my prayers, and you refuse me yours. But Jesus 
Christ has said, 'By their fruits ye shall know them;' and I 
wish to be an humble disciple of Jesus Christ." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Wo. 578. 

SAYINGS OF JESUS. 



All the words of Jesus were full of truth and love. 
He taught great truths in such a way that the people 
heard him gladly. They soon saw that he was meek and 
lowly in heart, and was a friend to the poor. Many of his 
words are to be found in the Bible. They are there for 
our sake. If we attend to them they will make us truly 
wise. They will bring peace to our hearts, and point out 
the way to heaven. 

Only a few of the sayings of Jesus will be here given ; 
but if you read them with care they will, with God's 
blessing, do you good, as they have done to many before 
you. 

1. Except a man be horn again, he cannot see the kingdom 
of God. John 3 : 3. 

Jesus spoke these words to a wise and rich man, but 
they apply to all men. To be "born again," or ''born 
from above," means to have a great change take place in 
our hearts and lives. All who are born into this world 
bring with them a sinful nature. You feel that your own 
heart is evil. Your eyes and ears tell you that there is 
much sin in the world. The Biljle speaks of men being 
"dead in sins." Eph. 2 : 1. Men are alive, awake, and 
active for the things which belong to this short life. But 
they have no sense for the better things of God and the 
soul. AYe read that "there is none that doeth good, no, 
not one," Rom. 3 : 12 ; and that "the heart of the sons of 
men is fully set in them to do evil." Ezek. 11 : 19. 

Man was made to love and obey God ; but he docs 
not do so. He lives as if there were no God. He does 
not sec, or feel, or desire what is good. He loves what 



2 SAYINOS OF JESUS. 

God hates, and hates what God loves. His heart is hke 
a stone, Ecd. 8:11; it is hard, cold, heavy, and barren 
in regard to what is good. So long as he is in this state, 
God is angry with him every day. Psa. Y : 11. 

Now can you think that a sinful man is fit to dwell 
for ever with God ? Can any one who all his life long 
goes on in an evil way, be ready to join the holy angels 
and happy spirits in heaven? Can a man who has on 
him only filthy rags, be in a state to sit down in a king's 
presence ? No ; it is plain that a great change must first 
take place in him. A new life must be begun, so that ho 
is made like to a new man. Then he will feel and think 
in a way that a wicked heart does not. He will do the 
will of God with a loving mind. 

This change can only be made by the power of God 
the Holy Spirit. What is wrong in the heart and life can 
only be made right by him. A bad tree cannot bring forth 
good fruit. But if the tree be made good, then the fruit 
win be made good also. Matt. 12 : 33. If you make a 
spring of water pure, then the stream will be pure too. 

But do you ask. How may I hope to have the Holy 
Spirit come to my heart ? Listen to what Jesus said : 

2. If ye, Icing evil, know how to give good gifts %nto your 
children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy 
Spirit to them that ask himl Luke 11 : 13. 

We are here taught to go to God as to our Father, and 
to ask him for the gift of the Holy Spirit. Even sinful 
men will hear the cries of their children when they ask 
for bread. And will not God, who is love, listen to us 
when we pray to him for the Holy Spirit ? Yes ; he will 
do "much more" than any parent can do. 

The Spirit is now the best gift of God to us. He brings 
light into our dark minds. His power is like a fire, and 
like a hammer, to melt and break our hard hearts. If he 



SAYINGS OF JESUS. 3 

is given to us, he will teach us that sin is a great evil. 
He will make us humble and sorry for it. He will lead 
us to see how great was the love of God that he should 
send his Son to die for us. And then he will make us 
happy in the hope that we have found pardon. 

To enjoy this gift you must ask for it. For so again 
we hear Jesus speak : 

3. Ask, and it shall he given you; seeJc, and ye shall find; 
hiodc, and it shall he opened unto you. Matt, t : 7. 

In these words you are taught that God w^ll hear your 
prayer. Every wish and word and tear will be known to 
him. Ask then like a beggar who seeks for bread, or as a 
man who wishes to know the right road. Seek, as for a 
thing of value w^liich has been lost. Knock, like him who 
wants to enter the door, and find shelter from a storm. 

God will give to you not only like a king, but with the 
love of a father. But do you say you do not know what 
to ask for ? The Bible has some short prayers that will 
suit you. " God be merciful to me a sinner." Luke 18 : 13. 
''Lord, help me." Matt. 15 : 25. ''0 Lord, hear me ; for 
I am poor and needy." Psa. 86 : 1. ''Turn me, Lord, 
and I shall be turned." Lam. 5:21. " Hide thy face from 
my sins." Psa. 51 : 9. "Create in me a clean heart, 
God." Psa. 51:10. "Lord, save: I perish." Matt. 8 : 25. 
There are many more such prayers in the word of God. 
They suit the man who works in the field, or in the fac- 
tory, as well as the prince who lives in a palace. They 
are short and plain. These prayers have been often 
heard by God ; and he will hear them again, if you ask 
in faith. 

To pray in faith, is to pray believing that God is true 
to his word ; and that, for Christ's sake, he will bless us. 
A- long prayer without faith will gain nothing. A short 
prayer with faith will niove God to help us. 



4 SAYINGS OF JESUS. 

Now attend to some more sayings of Jesus. 

4. The Son of mail is come to seek aiid to save that which 
was lost. Luke 19 : 10. 

Jesus has told us of the love of God as a Father, and 
of the work of the Holy Spirit on our hearts ; he here 
speaks of his own work in saving the lost. We were like 
lost sheep, that have broken over a fence, and have gone 
in a wrong way. Jesus came to lead us back to the fold 
of God. He saw that we were lost, and he came to save 
us. The way to heaven was closed by our sins, and he 
opened it by dying for us. We were in danger of hell, 
and he held out his hand for our help. 

Jesus did not come into the world because it is a happy 
place ; for he knew it was full of evil. He did not come 
to enjoy it, but to save men. Though he was in the form 
of God, and was equal with God, yet he was among men 
as a servant. He came into the world as a babe ; he lived 
in it as a poor man ; he died in it a death of shame and 
pain. In his life he kept the law which we had broken. 
The blood he shed on the cross takes away the sins of 
those who believe on him. 

Jesus now seeks in order that he may save. But you 
ask, Will he save me ? Hear him : 

5. Come u7ito me, all ye that labor and arc heavy laden, and 
I will give you o-est. Matt. 11 : 28. 

Who but the Son of God could invite all to come ? He 
only can supply the wants of the world. No man, nor 
angel, can do that. He speaks to all who have a burden. 
Have you a load of care and sorrow ? Have you not found 
rest in the world ? Do you weep and groan because you 
feel your sins hang heavy upon you ? He speaks, then, 
to you. 

But do you ask, How am I to go ? Just as you ore 



SAYINGS OF JESUS. 

now. Though you are full of guilt and misery, you may 
draw nigh to him. The worse you are, the more ready 
Tou should be to take him at his word. 

If Jesus were now on earth, you could go to him a& 
the poor and sick once went to him. You could look upon 
him with your eyes, and hear the words of his own lips. 
But this might not be so easy for you as you think. How 
could you get to a land far away ? Where could you find 
time and money? How could you cross wide seas, and 
travel over strange parts of the earth ? It is your mercy 
to know that Jesus is in heaven ; yet, as God, one with 
the Father and the Holy Spirit, he is in every place. The 
way to go to him now is with the heart. It is the com- 
ing of the soul to him that he desires. The man who feels 
his sin and danger may come to him by faith ; that is, by 
believing and trusting in him. We may come to him in 
any place, and at any time. When in your own room, in 
the shop, in the field, or in the house of God, you may 
come to him there. You will find that if you believe his 
words, if you call upon his name, if you look to him in 
love and hope, it is the way to come to him. Those who 
thus seek, will be sure to find him. And in this way they 
find rest for their souls. 

But do you still fear that what has been said does not 
apply to you ? Attend then to another of the sayings of 
Jesus : 

6. Him that coimth to inc I will in no wise cast out. John 
C:3T. 

You may fear that he will cast you out. You feel that 

you deserve to be turned away. But take him at his word, 

and you shall know that he means what he says. He will 

not cast 3^ou out on account of your age. You cannot be 

too young, nor too old. If you are young he has said, 

"Those that seek mc carlv shall find me." Prov. 8:11. 
21* 



6 SAYINGS OF JESUS. 

If you are aged, he will not forsake you when your strength 
faileth. Psa. U : 9. 

He will not reject you on account of your condition in 
life. He can make the poor rich in faith. Those who can 
read but little, may be made truly wise in the truths of 
the Bible. The light of that holy book can shine into a 
mind that is quite dark. He will not receive you because 
you are better than others ; he will not cast you out be- 
cause you are worse than others. He saves none because 
their sins are few and small, nor sends any away that 
come to him because their sins are many and great. He 
knew what sinners there were in the world when he spoke 
these words. He knew there would be such a sinner as 
you are. He knows the worst about you — all your secret 
sins. And yet he says, "I will in no wise cast out." 

Take, then, these words as spoken to you. Look to 
him for pardon, and every mercy you want. But if you 
do not attend to them, you will have no excuse. You will 
not be able to say that Jesus did not bid you to come to 
him. You will not say that you died in your sins because 
there was no hope for you. 

The words which we have now given arc the gospel — 
good news for sinners — glad tidings of great joy for all 
people. As we read them we may almost say. They are 
too good to be true. But we must not, for they are the 
words of the Lord Jesus, who would not raise our hopes 
in vain. But these are not all. Once again he speaks : 

7. If I go and p'epare a place for you, I will come again, 
and receive you linto myself; that where I am, there ye may le 
also. John 14 : 3. 

Jesus is now in his glory. He has made heaven a 
place for all who love him. A time will come when he 
will call them from their graves. Then he will say to 
them, ''Come, ye blessed — enter ye into the joy of your 



SAYINGS OF JESUS. 7 

Lord." Matt. 25 : 21, 34. 0, happy state ! There they 
shall know no sorrow nor pain, for they shall know no sin. 
All tears will be wiped from their eyes, for there will be 
no grief nor care. They shall be like to the angels, and 
they shall serve God for rvr>i\ Then shall they know 
how much they owe to Jesus for his great love to them. 
Then shall they sing this song to his praise, " Unto him 
that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own 
blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and 
his Father ; to him be glory and dominion for ever and 
ever. Amen." Rev. 1 : 5, 6. 

Do you wish to go to heaven when you die ? We hope 
you do. Then turn again to the great truths which have 
been set before you in plahi words. You must be born 
from above. The Holy Spirit must change your heart. 
You must seek his grace l3y prayer. You must have 
faith m Jesus for the pardon of your sins. If j^ou seek 
him, he will not cast you out ; and if you trust in him, 
and love and serve him now, you will be with him for 
ever. Think of these things ; and may God bless them 
to your souls. 

AYe said we would give you some of the sayings of 
Jesus. We have done so. Are they not good and plain — 
true and loving words ? Do they not meet the case of 
every sinner ? Do they not suit you ? If so, -find out 
others like them in the Bible. But how great will be j^our 
folly and sin, if- you do not attend to them. You must 
then perish — be lost for ever. "To-day if ye will hear 
his voice, harden not your hearts." Heb. 3:7, 8. 



SAYINGS OF JESUS. 
COMING TO CHRIST. 

Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." John 6 : 37. 

Just as I am — without one plea, 
But that thy blood was shed for me, 
And that thou bid'st mo come to thee — 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am — and waiting not 
To rid my soul of one dark blot — 
To thee, Avhose blood can cleanse each spot, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am — though tossed about 
With many a conflict, many a doubt, 
Fightings within, and fears without— 
Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am — poor, wretched, blind 5 
Sight, riches, healing of the mind, 
Yea, all I need in thee to find — 

O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am — thou wilt receive. 

Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, 

Because thy promise I believe — 

Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am — thy love unknown 
Has broken every barrier down ; 
Now, to be thine, yea, thine alone, 

Lamb of God, I come! 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



ZVo. 379. 

JAMES NEWHALL; 

OR, 

GODLINESS EXEMPLIFIED. 

BY REV. PARSONS COOKE, D. D. 



That Christianity is now alive, and productive of the 
game results as in its first ages, is seen at least in here 
and there an example. One of these examples recently 
appeared, in James Newhall, of Lynn, Massachusetts, who 
died in August, 1854, aged eighty j^ears. As religion 
is wont to reveal itself with peculiar strength in cases 
of extreme suffering — like a flower, that gives its richest 
fragrance when it is crushed — so the highest manifes- 
tations of divine life in him were during the last of his 
years, in Avhich he was brought down to death by the lin- 
gering ravages of a cancer in his face. The writer, his 
pastor, was especially moved to give to the public some 
sketch of his experience, by observing what was the lead' 
ing aspiration of his mind during his whole sickness. He 
was ever, in every form, expressing the desire, that he 
might do something to manifest to others the excdknce of religion. 
Naturall}^ ardent, he expressed nothing with so much ardor 
and frequency as this. When I reminded him that his life 
and active service were nearly spent, and that what was 
now required of him was, to suffer according to the will of 
God, and illustrate the power of religion by its supports 
under suffering, I little realized how effectually he was to 
do that part of his work. 

Soon after the cancer of which he died appeared on his 
mouth, and foretold what a terrible scene was before him, 
he had a severe attack of influenza, which at his age of 
eighty years, seemed to make his death certain. Neither 
he nor his friends dared to ask for his recovery, thinking 
fie was to be mercifully released from evil to come. Yet 



2 JAMES NEWHALL. 

contrary to all expectation he recovered, and to the surprise 
of all, he rejoiced in Ms recovery. Not that he doubted 
his preparation for death, nor that the longings to be with 
Christ, which in his sickness he had expressed, were abat- 
ed. But he said it was strongly impressed on his mind, 
that God had brought him back from the grave because ho 
had yet some important work for him to do, "in manifest- 
hig" the excellence of religion. He delighted in the pros- 
pect of doing something more for the glory of Christ. His 
heart was so warmed with this theme, and his mind was 
60 full of it, that his common course of rapid utterance 
seemed insufficient for him. I often sat in mute astonish- 
ment, wondering that one on the threshold of heaven, ten 
years beyond the limits of human life, having the actual 
imprint of death on his lips, should speak of doing yet a 
great work for Christ on tho earth. But now I am con- 
vinced that that impression came of the Spirit of God. Af- 
ter that time, he did indeed "manifest something." In the 
last year of his life he was instrumental of a more practi- 
cal demonstration of the power of godliness than in any 
ten years before, and on many minds he made impressions 
that will never be forgotten. Cut off from the ordinary 
ways of Christian labor, his fervent spirit labored, and his 
tongue told of his desire for manifesting something for 
Christ, yea, and did manifest it till his tongue was literally 
consumed, and ceased to articulate. 

Mr. Newhall entered upon life during the agitations 
immediately preceding the war of the revolution. He was 
an infant at the time of the battle of Bunker hill, and amid 
the alarms occasioned by the marches of British troops he 
was carried in the arms of a sister from home to a place of 
seclusion. The first impressions of his childhood wcro 
received when the common mind was inflamed with all 
that is malignant and demoralizing in war. The religious 
state of those around liim was at that time at the lowest 
degree of depression. But there were a fevv^ persons even 
then sustaining the life of religion, and shining as lights in 



JAMES NEWHALL. 3 

a dark place ; and one of these was his mother, who was 
faithful in her endeavors to bring him up in the nurture 
and admonition of the Lord. But the good impressions of 
his childhood passed away. 

What his character was till middle life or after, was 
described to me most faithfully by himself. I spoke to 
him of making his history a source of instruction to others ; 
and in a spirit far enough from a desire for posthumous 
fame, he expressed his gratification on the ground that his 
case was a wonderful instance of the grace of God, which 
would be likely to make a good impression. I remarked 
to liim, that in order to set forth what God had done for 
him, I must plainly tell what his life was before his conver- 
sion. He repUed, "By all means do it;" and then at- 
tempted to give me some information about it in a way to 
show his intense abhorrence of it. 

After his death, Eev. Otis Rockwood, who was his pas- 
tor at the time of his conversion, at my request kindly fur- 
nished me some materials of his history. His conversion 
took place when he was past tlie age of fifty, and after he 
had been for many years confirmed in habits of the free 
use of intoxicating drinks, and was bound to them not 
only by the fetters of his own custom, but by strong as- 
sociations with a club of kindred spirits. 

His mind was first aroused when he was sick of a fever. 
He seemed to be sensible of his great sinfulness, acknow- 
ledged his condemnation by the law of God, and was fear- 
ful that he should not hve. He was instructed as his 
case required, and after his fever subsided, continued anx- 
ious, and seemed to have some right views of the way of 
salvation by grace ; but without satisfactory evidence of a 
saving change. 

At this point Mr. Rockwood said to him, "There seems 
to be something that obstructs your spiritual progress. For 
several weeks you have seemed to be anxious to obtain 
salvation ; I have endeavored to open to you the way of 
life, and have thought that you had generally a correct un- 



4 JAMES NEWHALL. 

derstanding of the nature of repentance and faith in Christ, 
and of your duty. You know that Christ is wiUing to re- 
ceive even the chief of sinners, and yet you remain where 
you were weel^s ago. There must be some obstacle which 
you are unwilhng to remove ; some sin, I fear, which you 
are unwilhng to abandon. Now, Mr. Newhall, I wish to 
know if you have not begun to use ardent spirits again ?'^ 
"As I paused," says Mr. Rockwood, "tears started in his 
eyes, and he replied, 'I must acknowledge that I have. 
After my fever left me, the doctor directed me to take a Ht- 
tle wine. And after I began to work I felt weak, and as 
I could not afford wine, I have for a few days taken spirits 
once or twice a day, thinking that I needed it.' " His pastor 
reminded him that this was the direct way to grieve the 
Spirit of God, and fall back again into his old besetting sin, 
and he confessed with tears the truth of what was said. 

"A week after this he said, 'I do n't think I am a Chris- 
tian ; but I have left off the use of spirits. I saw that I 
was going to destruction. I resolved that I would drink no 
more. I have not tasted a drop since, and, God helping me, 1 
never wilV 

A fortnight after, he was calm and cheerful, expressed 
great delight in reading the Bible and in prayer, spoke 
of the wonderful love of Christ, and of his desire to make 
some grateful returns for it. At length he sought admis- 
sion to the church, but was advised to delay in considera- 
tion that his habits had been such that it was prudent to 
take a longer time to test the reality of his experience. In 
a confiding spirit he replied, ' I will do as you think best ; 
I do n't want to bring any wound upon religion.' His con- 
nection with the church was delayed nearly a year, but he 
continued to grow in grace." 

Probably no one who knew him both before and after 
his conversion, doubted its reaUty. Whatever uncandid 
judgments they might form of other Christians, ungodly 
men were forced to confess that here was an Israelite in- 
deed. The contrast between wb-^^' ho was and what he 



JAMES NEWHALL. 5 

had become was so striking, that his example was a stand- 
ing rebuke to infideUty. 

The wisdom of God was apparent in the choice of him 
as a vessel of his mercy. All the difficulties of his posi- 
tion, his being enslaved to ruinous habits, banded with 
corrupting associates, broken in body and mind, and ap- 
parently past hope of redemption, magnified the glory of 
the grace of God in him. Out of that club of inebriates 
and gamblers did God take one to be an example of his 
long-suflFering, and a preacher of righteousness to the rest. 
Admonitions such as he was wont to give, coming from 
one of their own number, had upon them the force and 
solemnity of a voice divine. He vividly illustrated Christ's 
principle, that one who had been forgiven much would 
love much. He ever felt that his debt of gratitude was 
immense, that he had been the chief of sinners, that his 
recovery was a wonder of mercy, and that he was bound 
to show forth the praises of Him who had called him out 
of darkness into marvellous light. He was careful to im- 
prove every opportunity to speak a word for Christ. And 
yet I could never learn that any person, saint or sinner, 
took offence at his endeavors. There went along with his 
words such evidence of his sincerity, such assurance that 
what he said came from the heart, and withal such expres- 
sions of kindness, as to disarm both prejudice and malig- 
nity. Those who knew his history, saw in him that which 
it was impossible to despise. 

Prayer was the element of his life. The places of so- 
cial prayer seemed to be to him heavenly places. He gave 
the best proofs that his heart was in them. Distant as he 
lived from the place of worship, lie was always there — and 
that even after age had laid its heavy burdens upon him, 
and he had begun his descent to the grave. When he 
was leading the devotions in the prayer-meeting, it was 
plainly seen that he was there to some purpose. Such 
outflowings of heart, in simplicity and godly sincerity, are 
rarely seen. Humble as his natural endowmenta wore, I 



6 JAMES NEWHALL. 

have heard from him, in his prayers, as true and effective 
eloquence as I ever heard from human lips ; and it was 
the simple outflow of a heart in its fulness going forth to 
God. His prayers, neither in thought nor phrase, followed 
a beaten track. He made little use of the commonplaces 
of expression, but in words prompted by present feeling, 
he gave to his petitions a freshness and force rarely attain- 
ed by men of greater natural powers. On such occasions, 
the thought often forced itself on my mind, That man is 
what religion has made him ; in him the natural endow- 
ments have humbled themselves that the supernatural 
might be magnified, and that out of weakness God might 
bring forth strength. He was what religion had made 
him, and had received elements of greatness that might 
v/ell be envied. 

His attachment to the house and ordinances of God 
was what might have been expected of one who Hved so 
near to God. Few of the congregation lived at such a 
distance from the house of God, yet few were absent so 
rarely. He was never absent on the Sabbath, when it 
was possible for him to be present. Some two or three 
winters ago we had a striking illustration in this particu- 
lar. The Sabbath brought with it a driving storm of snow ; 
the snow had fallen to the depth of a foot, and was still 
falling and badly drifting by a strong wind, so that few of 
the congregation living nearest to the church thought it 
possible for them to attend. I think there vrere not over 
twenty persons present, whether old or ^''oung. And y^t 
here was a man of near eighty winters, tottering with age, 
and through all that distance facing the storm and wading 
the drifts, through a road peculiarly exposed to drifts, to 
take his place in the sanctuary. So hazardous was the 
walk, that on his return some of his friends felt it neces- 
sary to watch him, lest he should perish in the snow. One 
friend expostulated with him, and told him that he was too 
old a man to be out on such a day. He replied, that his age 
was the reason why he did it. He knew that he should 



JAMES NEWHALL. 7 

be able to go to the house of God but a few times more, 
and he wished to improve every opportunity that he had. 

To him tlie Sabbath-school had an interest scarcely in- 
ferior to that of the sanctuary. Loving the word of God 
and rejoicing in it as in great riches, every occasion that 
brought his mind in contact with that word was entertain- 
ed with delight, and to the latest periods of his life, even 
after the fatal disease had made decided progress, he was 
found in his place reciting the lessons of the Sabbath-school, 
and giving a practical proof that a man of fourscore years 
is not too old to be taught in the everlasting gospel. His 
love for the Sabbath-school consisted, in no small part, in 
his love for children and his zeal to promote their salvation. 
His own experience as a wanderer from Christ for more 
than fifty years, and the dangers which he incurred in that 
wandering, the very scorcliing as if from the flames of hell 
w^iich he received, had taught him how important it is that 
the heart be secured by being bound to Christ in youth. 

Another trait in Mr. Newhall's character was an exem- 
plary cheerfulness. He always seemed to be, for some 
cause, remarkably happy ; and certainly the earthly sources 
of his happiness were not abundant. Many, placed in his 
circumstances, would have been found repining at the allot- 
ments of Providence ; but he seemed to feel that his bless- 
ings were multiplied, and his occasions for gratitude were 
his constant theme. The ordinary gifts of friends or of 
Providence were noticed by him with special pleasure. 
After his disease had begun to increase upon him, I once 
asked him if he could still read the Bible. He said that 
his sight had of late so failed him, that he was troubled to 
read in the fine print of his Bible ; and then he added, as 
though he had found a pearl of great price, "Don't you 
think that Mr. ," meaning a friend that had been espe- 
cially kind to him — "don't you think he came the other day 
and brought me a fine large Bible, with great large print, 
and now I can read as well as I ever could." If one had 
given him a princely fortune, he could not have expressed 



8 JAMES NEWHALL. 

more happiness than he did at this gift. In short, he so 
saw the hand of God in all events, that every thing seemed 
to come just right. He had nothing to complain of, nothing 
to make him nnhappy. With narrow means, he was hap- 
pier than most who had abundance. He envied no one, as 
he had no occasion to envy any, because he had a treas- 
ure in the heavens which no earthly good could equal. 

Indeed, submission to the will of God, or rather, an 
absorption of his own will in the will of God, was one of his 
most prominent traits. That was a time of great trial, 
when he foresaw that he must die by inches ; that at his 
advanced age, a cancer was no trifle ; that months, if not 
years of consuming agony were before him. He was fully 
aware of all this, yet as cheerful and hopeful as if nothing 
had happened. I asked him if he did not consider it an 
afflictive and mysterious appointment of God that he should 
have such a prospect of suffering before him. To all ques- 
tions of this kind he had but one reply, that God's will and 
appointment was best. It was his satisfaction to know 
that God's will was to be done. After Ms disease had far 
advanced, and his sufferings had reached their highest 
point, he continued of the same mind. I said to him, ''You 
feel so sure of heaven, and you are here in so much pain, 
would it not be a great relief if you might be dismissed at 
once ?" His reply was, "Not as I will, but as God wills." 
I asked him if he had any doubts or any fears of death, 
that should make him wilhng to linger here. He assured 
me that he had long ago done with doubts, and heaven 
was full and clear in his prospect, but if God saw fit to hold 
him longer here in suffering, there was a good reason for 
it ; that he was willing to suffer, and thereby be reminded 
of the sufferings of Christ, and of the sins that had caused 
his sufferings ; that God best knew when it was best for 
him to go, and he would gladly wait his time. 

I once told him his case presented to some minds a dif- 
ficulty. " Here is Mr. Newhall," tliey say, " who has appear- 
ed to be a very good man. But now when he comes to die, 



JAMES NEWHALL. 9 

God appoints to him a most painful form of death. Does not 
this sliow that God has no special regard for Christians ?" 
He repUed with energy, " Tell them that whom the Lord 
loveth he chastcneth ; and that others are recei^'ing their 
portion in this life." He said that however it might seem 
to others, it was no mystery to him that he snflfered so 
much ; and that he never had such a rich consciousness of 
the love of God, and such satisfaction in the thought that 
he was in the hands of God, as he then had. At that time 
his pain was constant and extreme, day and night, and 
one side of his face had been nearly consumed, so that an 
intelligible utterance was made with difficulty. 

He was now a source of valuable Christian instruction 
to the many that were attracted to his bedside, and he 
seemed to be living to a higher purpose than ever Ix'fore. 
The contrast between the spectacle of great unremitted 
bodily suffering, and the bright gleams of eternal glory 
resting upon his soul, could not fail to make an impression 
iipon all that came near him ; and Christian friends were 
so much attracted to him, and such was the estimation in 
which he was held by many, that he suffered, and testified 
for Christ in his sufferings, before many witnesses. He 
seemed to attach an extravagant value to the visits of his 
pastor, even to the extent of making me asliamed by the 
expressions of his gratitude ; for I was there more to re- 
ceive than to give instruction, more to rejoice than to im- 
part consolation. I was somewhat struck with his saluta- 
tion at one of my visits. He said, "There, I knew you 
would come to-day ; I told my daughter so : I liave been 
praying that 3'ou might come." It was in the middle of one 
of the hottest days of the season, when it suddenly occurred 
to me that his sufferings must be great ; lliat if my pres- 
ence and sympathy could alleviate a tedious hour, he was 
entitled to it, and that my walk in the heat of the sun 
would be a trifle compared witli what he was suffering. 
This incident may illustrate his state of mind in relatioii 
to providential occurrences. 



10 JAMES NEWHALL. 

His attachment to his friends seemed to advance with 
the approaches of death. He showed it by pressing them 
more urgently to make their visits frequent, and by the 
height of his enjoyment of tlieir visits. Nor would he allow 
the thought of his death to carry with it that of a separa- 
tion from them. As ever that thought intruded, he would 
say, "I shall meet you in heaven," This reply, on one 
occasion, had an impressive appropriateness. One of his 
nearest friends, but two or three days before he died, on 
taking leave of him in what proved to be his last visit, 
said, "I will call and see you often." Instead of pressing 
him to do so, as usual, he simply said, "I will meet you 
in heaven." 

While he was able to command his organs of speech 
he was wont, in all our visits, to give expression to the 
abundance of his joy and consolation. I often returned 
with the thought that in him the extremes of pain and of 
rejoicing had met. Whoever conversed with him on that 
bed of death, saw religion in the hour of its triumph— its 
triumph over all that is to be dreaded in pain, and all that 
is terrible in death. The presence of a consuming disease 
was not more manifest upon his body than were the rejoic- 
ings of a heaven begun in his mind. And in the fact that 
this scene had many witnesses, his desire to do something 
to manifest the power of religion, for the honor of Christ, 
seems to have been remarkably answered. What a rich 
and rare opportunity had he to set forth the sustaining 
power of godliness and the triumphant energies of faith. 
And how nobly did he improve it. It was not in vain that 
he had come back from the grave at the time before alluded 
to, to fill out another year in sufferings. 

At that time he said that he felt as sure as if he had 
had a revelation, that he had come back for an important 
purpose, to manifest something for Christ. And he formed 
his plans of the way in which he would execute the pur- 
pose — little thinking what different plans God had formed. 
He said on his recovery from that sickness, that as soon 



JAULES NEWHALL. 11 

as he recovered strength enough, he intended to visit 
every family and every person in the congregation, and 
exhort tliem to become partakers of the grace of God. 

To what effect he Uved the last year of his life, and gave 
forth from that dying bed — that scene of his and his Ec- 
deemer's triumph — his testimony, his living demonstration 
of the power of rehgion, we shall better know another day. 
But who can doubt that it was the most fruitful of all his 
years, and that all his sufferings were a hundred-fold com- 
pensated in the good impressions then made on other minds. 

The influence of such a man in the church may be lit- 
tle thought of. Yet where is the man that has contrib- 
uted more than he to sustain the life of religion in the 
church, and to aid the impression of religion which she 
should make on other minds ? If those who live nearest 
to God and draw most from the living fountains, those 
who pray most and communicate most of the sympathies 
of the divine life, do most to keep the church active aiid 
strong, where is the person that has done more than he ? 
Besides, his experience and example were a living argu- 
ment which the adversary could not gainsay nor resist. 
The word preached is powerfully enforced, when we can 
appeal to such examples of the servants of sin made ser- 
vants of righteousness, having their fruit unto holiness. 
For more than twenty years, while the gospel was uttered, 
there sat the man who had so luminously proved the gos- 
pel's power, and while the preacher spoke of the power of 
the Holy Ghost in the regeneration of sinners, men's con- 
sciences felt that instance of the power of the Holy Ghost 
confirming the word. 

The good which such men have done will be but poorly 
apprehended until that day wlien God makes up his jew- 
els. But I cannot here forljcar to relate an incident whicli 
was reported to me by another : On one of the public occa- 
sions connected with the origin of the Central church in 
Lynn, one person was congratulating another who had had 
a leading instrumentality in the work. The person tlun* 



12 JAMES NEWHALL. 

congratulated pointed to Mr. Newhall, who was sitting by 
in silence, and said, ''There is the person who has done 
more than any other towards building this church." He, 
in astonishment, said that he had done nothing ; and 
wondered what he meant. The other replied that it was 
greatly owing to that man's prayers that this work had 
been undertaken and done. In whatever sense this was 
supposed to be true, it shows that at least one has felt 
the value of the influence that went out from him. 

If any one is in doubt as to the reality and power of 
religion, here is an instance of Christian character that 
challenges his scrutiny. This man, hy the grace of God, 
was what he was. Say, if you please, that a large portion 
of Christian professors are hypocrites ; but here is an in- 
stance of godliness unquestioned — enough to prove the 
reality of religion. And I lodge the appeal with the con- 
science of any candid man that knew the deceased, wheth- 
er there were not in him indubitable proofs of regenerate 
character — of something which no man, not regenerate, 
ever had. Yea, where is the man who knew him well 
who will not say, Let me die his death, and let my last 
end be like his. 

He has gone before us in a way to show that death in 
its most terrible forms may be met with joy and triumph. 
It is a reproach to the profession of those who have life 
and immortality brought to light, who have a fountain of 
life in their union with Christ, if through fear of death they 
are all their lifetime subject to bondage, so that they suf- 
fer many deaths in the fear of one. To have such a degree 
of faith and hope that we can die without regret, is count- 
ed a great attainment. But we have before us an exam- 
ple in which one has met the worst that death can do, in 
one of its most frightful forms, and met it with songs of 
triumph. His example teaches an important lesson — 
teaches how we may make the gates of death as a tri- 
umphal arch, conducting us to heaven over a prostrated 
and vanquished foe. 



